#rainbows and the power of friendship and pray and and and | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs | Tumgik (2024)

Okay hot take but I just hate it when people order you around to get better

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Empires Eggpire:

I’ve said it before how I think hermtis would react if the egg from the dream smp came to their server. A classic egg empire arc because I love that arc so much. Just the concept of an alien esq egg coming to a server and seeing how a character reacts to it is so cool to think about. So a course I had to do empires smp!

It should be noted that I’m talking about season 2 empire characters but if you want season 1 please do tell.

Pix: He is 100% getting possessed. I’m sorry that man would want to research the history of the egg and how it ended up on the server, you’re telling me he wouldn’t be interested in it’s offers? He would want to take a piece of it to his museum and then feel pain from trying to chip away a few pieces of the egg. He’s a curious man. Maybe a leader too.

Scott: Too big to bring it to his black market business and probably feels unease or indifference about it. Would definitely step in if it starts taking away colour from his empires though. Colour man needs his rainbow palette, black, white and red won’t do.

Lizzie: There needs to be a possessed cat in every eggpire, it’s the lore. Anyway, Lizzie feels 50/50 to me. She gives the vibes that she’ll turn away from the egg or she’ll follow it because it offers chickens.

Jimmy: On one hand Jimmy feels like the Puffy or Sam type that would arrest the egg because it’s a danger to the server. On the other hand this is Jimmy we’re taking about. I’m not too sure if he would get possessed but the corrupt sherif troupe is readily available, just saying.

Shubble: She is throwing every single potion she has at the egg. Shubble wants to help her friends with her magic and potions, she cured a possessed Cub before so she can do it again. I do think she might be getting a bit possessed in canon right now so sorry to Shrubs but I don’t think she would be immune to the egg. Perhaps there’s promises of safety, love and friendship.

Joel: He’s either staying completely out of it because he’s indifferent, joins out of spite to the law or hates the egg because it called him mean names. However Joel would not be able to stop the egg on his own. We’ve seen in canon before that a god of lightning and thunder had no power in the egg’s domain.

Joey: That man will either try to steal the egg or get possessed trying. Joey will either follow the egg’s doing if that means he gets what he wants. Or he will scoff at it because that’s just a big dumb egg, it can’t boss this pirate around.

False: Very unease by it. She’s not having a great time with it. However, I think she can murder for the eggpire, as a treat. I need to catch up to false lore but maybe she wants stability or strength so she accepts the egg’s promises. I’m not too sure how False would react.

Sausage: The vibe I’m getting is very terrified and not trusting at all. I can’t really see him joining the eggpire, I can’t think of a good motive to why he would. Plus Bubbles would not approve. Also some blood red sheep that he can talk to wouldn’t be the best conversation.

Katherine: She’s already planning on attacking the egg as we speak. She already has enough problems in her empires, an evil egg is like any other monster. She’s up for the challenge!

Fwhip: Hmmm, this is a tricky one. I can’t picture Fwhip getting possessed unless it has something to do with the sherif’s badge. But at the same time he has the toy shrine so I don’t think the egg would want to touch him.

Oli: For a treat I think he would be immune. You know how the eggpire hated Tommy and wanted him dead? Yeah, that but it’s Oli. He’s out hearing singing his silly little bard songs in his silly little bard outfit. Meanwhile the egg, fed up and annoyed, is planning on ripping Oli limb by limb. Can’t tell if Oli would have balls of steel and mock the egg or would end up terrified of the egg.

Gem: Oh hell no, she already has her own cult, there’s no way she’ll abandon praying to bdubs for a giant egg. Gem wouldn’t be interested in the egg until it starts to breach and infect all of the empires. She’s seen it before with a new corrupt force (*cough cough* rentheking) so she’ll join forces to stop the egg. However, if Gen was to get possessed and can still travel between worlds, we could potentially have patient zero. Spread the eggpire’s message to other servers.

I would go to my hermit eggpire post for ideas on how the egg spawned in the first place but here’s some more little headcanons:

Depending which empire the egg resides in, the leader on that area would call Pix in to observe this strange object. Most likely areas are as follow: The Ancient Capital, Cogsmeade, The Evermore, Goblands and Tumble Town.

Empires would take the egg as a more serious threat compared to the hermits because lore.

The Egg would most likely appear after the hermits go home or sometime during their stay. This is due to the rift maybe being a bit weird and wonderful.

Speaking of the rift, it would be so very angsty if Gem disappeared from hermitcraft because she got stuck dealing with the egg-apocalypse. The hermtis wondering where their friend went because she didn’t leave any information behind. Maybe she returns the same. Maybe she returns a bit strange. Who knows…

Also what if the hermits could return to empires, only to see a desolate landscape full of red vines, a red sky and tense, uneasiness in the air. Not one in sight. For miles and miles they travel, more vines more of the colour red. The bridge is over taken by the egg and is near crumbling down. They finally see some familiar faces but my lord, they’re not them. They’ve changed. Nothing about them screams safe. Empire members are a shell of themselves with red eyes and ready to serve.

Depending how much of a connection each member has with the previous season, wouldn’t some feel familiar with the growing red vines and blood red sheep? Imagine how sausage would feel about the sheep and Joey feel about this strange memory.

Anyway, that’s all I got so enjoy.

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U mentioning butch and bubbles having a lilo and stitch dynamic now all i can picture is them in place of lilo and stitch in that “she’s touching me!” “I’m not touching you!” scene

Ugh yess! That's what I have in mind too! Personally, I think their platonic relationship would border found siblings. I have a little one-shot that better lines my thoughts out, but it's still in the drafting phase. The vibes just aren't correct yet, but here's the au I think would work with this lilo & stitch dynamic:

Middle school or high school freshman! It doesn't matter really, just that it has to be one of those fundamentally sh*tty grades to live through

While still a Powerpuff girl, Bubbles is considered a social outcast even though she really doesn't want to be. She's still "popular", but more in the "queen of the dweebs" way. People who are conventionally "popular," think she's a little too quirky to be cool. She's all rainbows, sparkles, and dresses like the main character in a live-action Disney show

Butch is not popular in any way. He's angry, aggressive, and praying that someone will pick a fight with him. He's a troublemaker who'd do anything to get out of schoolwork. He tries keeping people an arm's length away, and for the most part, he's successful. He doesn't have friends because everyone's scared of him. The four contacts in his phone are: Dipsh*t (Boomer), sh*thead (Brick), Monkey (Mojo), and Bubs :))✨🤩🦄😍💙💙🤣✨

Lmao guess who stole who's phone? He doesn't delete it though

Anyway, one fateful year Bubbles and Butch are assigned as lab partners. The teacher thinks Bubbles will be a good influence on Butch. What the teacher forgot is they both absolutely suck at school. Bubbles talks too much to pay attention, and Butch isn't even awake 90% of the time.

This leads to a loud chaotic relationship where Butch is somehow the only reason they aren't failing their science class, and Bubbles has made it her personal project to make Butch (and thus, by extension, his brothers) good guys!

Which she feels will be super easy because she and Butch are besties. (she creates a goodness scale (like Lilo does).

I can not stress to you how bad Bubbles is as a student. Butch is often in awe because she's such a good person but doesn't give two f*cks about her homework (and is often grounded for it). She also refuses to dissect anything for the bio labs, so Butch is in charge of the dissection scalpels, and, like, put two and two together: it does not go well.

Together, they somehow make it through grade 8 biology, fight off each other's bullies, share a spotify playlist, get matching jackets, and go from the lamest to the coolest kids in school

jk they don't get cool, not really, but the power of friendship and found family is there. (everyone tho is lowkey surprised/jealous that those two are so genuinely themselves)

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Untitled (“Whose fate it free thee, not uncommon”)

A tricube sequence

First Stanza

Whose fate itfree thee, notuncommon.

Whose absencesof guilemake a miller:

robertBurns: buck, abeauties blush?

Second Stanza

These friend beckonedaseasily as

from out anacre hathweather like

lilies fromPraise. The oddsare fair slaves!

Third Stanza

Of more eaththey quick, letbee. There was

the arts ofsuch a flowers;and, saying,

sufferedinto theeven them.

Fourth Stanza

All along.Like sovereigntee,bene

a littlelap-dog breeds.Oh my Camel!

Especiallytoquench with truth.

Fifth Stanza

And fled. Worthbut how ohlover but

you—you goahead, evenfor none

who has diedtoday whenthey chaffred?

Sixth Stanza

—I’m o’er youngshade—Alas!The place; these

were builds upProsperity.A lively,

but thesound. Underten forest!

Seventh Stanza

But they quiteand all inlong. But thy

Subjects ofwhose who arethey’d try it:

i’ve all ofcoffee atall: in vain.

Eighth Stanza

And looks ofSamian wine,and the dark

fringes. Sheproof how greatersorrows

more, or notbeforborn, beforehand.

Ninth Stanza

Blue movingpresent, andlook with his

watch anuncorruptedhour to seeker

find. Comefriendship tobe destroyd!

Tenth Stanza

There stour, sosilly. Alikemusic

of the cobwebswith onlyshrining

is not Beauty,for noone Lady.

Eleventh Stanza

Let the mute,dwarf buffoonstopt shore: freezing.

And yetmust be shown.—I am

tired quicka group ofGreece a tear.

Twelfth Stanza

Had be thewidow’s, ’ mayperhaps you’llbe

continue.And spiced daintyeDaysies dipt

in her kingwiser, hewould conceive.

Thirteenth Stanza

And all nightthrough and whentheir belovèd’s

bed; sheput away,if lovers

like the bedtheir cheek turn’dto increase!

Fourteenth Stanza

I’m o’er theshepeheardemore that paine;

take me toseeke for anygoods which.

Like otherhomageto Chastity?

Fifteenth Stanza

And in herspies, which rainbow,as is

liking up.Fire accounthis ease. And

of kissingside of grace,which he lay!

Sixteenth Stanza

To save.Dangerous lifehas died to

all their voiceand the rest,and scarcely

the tiger-moth’s deep anxioushours tourne.

Seventeenth Stanza

Did nip afair can tellme how long,

heads, that e’ergrown hazyby morn of

life’s fire. DonJuan were thanthat doth ache.

Eighteenth Stanza

Power hadleft behindbroken-kneed,

her lips illhauiour garresloue-thought to

me. Bow downon hands, laydream, alas!

Nineteenth Stanza

Charmed jewel willnot the Worldand hell, or

woe, norholybush, whento a short.

Yet half-hiddenfruits, andnever find.

Twentieth Stanza

As the faintingsense andlost for how

quickly thepresentfullythen. Sometimes

… andIntellect; butrather lite.

Twenty-first Stanza

Thy grace, withhorrid showit: his verse.

The Horse’s,and be sad.I love

enhances allsponge to pray,and over.

Twenty-second Stanza

Now inparadisehastily. Re-

enter’d Houseof newe woe,for his weak

hand how pallidmoon thedemon eyes!

Twenty-third Stanza

When they hateto the cave,ere Musick

sleeping, orrather ratein love: be

heirs. Him whenpower, whenPhoebus sprung!

Twenty-fourth Stanza

From theHesperus! Foryou go ahead,

whosemoderate inlowly saile,

o careen;so thatcome on St.

Twenty-fifth Stanza

Your ring? Isee asentimental

writing; forpeace, like liliesfrom severe

chilled thedeep emotion’dher fan.

Twenty-sixth Stanza

Rosy floorSt. You see;sweet self-loves

me on mydear, than theyrstead of the

turn’d, piouspippin,—butit with Thee!

Twenty-seventh Stanza

And to die.And soon sheknew to a

safe level—No! The flame,who but first

who, chase theproperA table.

Twenty-eighth Stanza

Be my rymesbeautiesblush? Yet the

multitudinousbillow;and house:

yet asleepoppress’d thechild-bed taint.

Twenty-ninth Stanza

One after,as doth euenby much more

grant but ane,the lovingfigured to

me.—The boister’dHouse, andyears ago.

Thirtieth Stanza

He is, asthe passionand his chief

placed sufficiently,butby the summer

all. Withmany aless supply.

Thirty-first Stanza

I sat, butdreamed I wasa-cold; the

public mind,which vnto itswelcome.—The

night, bitteras if sometimeshe saith.

Thirty-second Stanza

Thy mouth, wouldbe old romance.For his

own steps, ereMusick sleepingtrust,

pattering, floatedintoa matron.

Thirty-third Stanza

Floats the flagsof this, surviveshim betight.

The accordbeforethan the waves,

andliberatedfrom remember.

Thirty-fourth Stanza

Accepts white,waxen, andsilent, stings!

Thou my buddhistmy nakedbreaking;

she loves me;yet met. Inour limits.

Thirty-fifth Stanza

I trace, byone sits inher brain its

vine! As often-times Iburn and other

in Sommerdayes death’sthe matron.

Thirty-sixth Stanza

The Wand ofchildhood’s faithso sure to

amend? Onthe Earth someiouisaunce, or

veering doenhem all mehow—Good Saints!

Thirty-seventh Stanza

Close by theGod of Senseand somewhere

you have been.That is themidnight love

I see thinkit may wellmarke: the Muse.

Thirty-eighth Stanza

Woman. Headnumb were one.Her night of

every nationmay erethe scream and

spiced daintiessoothed limbs thechoir’s amen.

Thirty-ninth Stanza

The mirksomenight, but intoand the

orders, andso stanck, thatby your walks.

As must havethat rolls ofshepherds call.

Fortieth Stanza

The good angelstune.—Then,since then of

the midnightwont in thepieties

of her firstbe pitynow converse.

Forty-first Stanza

His song, mywoe, drowningfate: but people

in thespring wealthylustrous

salvers indead! Shall beworst the eye!

Forty-second Stanza

—And yet Icome to dohave been Petrarch’s

flay alive,and Ilost its vastness

this man?In outwardup their skinne.

Forty-third Stanza

Fill his knees.The bier witor not. Those

secret, myfoes choose, thatwas a sire.

Tell hergod day: bymy pet-name!

Forty-fourth Stanza

A hemline.Shut, shut ofsorrow: who

knelt, so purefeels impossiblein

one huge emptyof dear,’ shed no more!

Forty-fifth Stanza

It, everythingat thetongue in a

fever leg,an elevator,rising

to mone!As her veilor hammered.

Forty-sixth Stanza

Women likeSouth. Thehistorian’s

staff gave whereliues shee wasnot; a sort

of hair. Keen,cruel grownone another’s.

Forty-seventh Stanza

And face insome feel inprayer.

Glorious mood;the othermen: they gave,

they’ve passinghis absencesof mind.

Forty-eighth Stanza

And kittens,he sand therebe know.

Wavering tomarry yet;I’m o’er again,

andanymercy, Porphyro!

Forty-ninth Stanza

That is ityou? She hadsoil’d like this

tidal wedge,slow tyrantto all they

lie, but hercorset-lacing. Beneath.

Fiftieth Stanza

It is ofmy heart wouldbreake his right.

To walk throughmany thingimaginations,

andinformationof You.

Fifty-first Stanza

Roof, and tellme the giftto be better

ills—ascatterie? Idreamed I was

seen, but that’shair, they mayaye remaine.

Fifty-second Stanza

Corinth youthink of Me!I am

adjustingdragons allthe alarmed

ocean whereand wandringmy pet-name!

Fifty-third Stanza

But the fourthassured motevnfolded flower.

Blindnessreign, whom Jove’sa tax,

from whichinmoral geography.

Fifty-fourth Stanza

On the bedto cedar,mimicking

lies. As crestsher veil’d, insorrowe and

sometimes thouin everso good name.

Fifty-fifth Stanza

But all hitherof thematters had

a large blackboughs and modeof living

along tunes?At least ofbetter come!

Fifty-sixth Stanza

And of thenext to me;she thin reeds

of Bath. Forthem like theblustring, through.

The happychildhood’s fairDay, awake!

Fifty-seventh Stanza

Giving inmourning here;that the greates,

they havebeen, on theirpromises

less. Through claystructure faceso longer.

Fifty-eighth Stanza

Did Helen’schamber went,in midnight

the perish.And flesh bemuch lessons,

why do welong musicon the shown.

Fifty-ninth Stanza

Save the besidejuan hadbeen statue-

like as abore: most quite.It will leaves,

then both cheeks,yet stillmay dissipate.

Sixtieth Stanza

With whom theirghosts, nor mermaidin their

dreams theirsepulchral suchfreends did abyde.

Should setten poets,or I missaye.

Sixty-first Stanza

She raignesa glist’ninghelm besides

all his lifeon thy noon,unlook’d strayen

abroad. Notknow: draw inage of Gold!

Sixty-second Stanza

Which girds asia,what myyears ago.

Pale, latticedying onsuch thou Wreathe

hill: tho maywords, embraue. Flatteror not.

Sixty-third Stanza

Friends can withsome certaintyis but

an azuremirth? Descendingor the

hand, the humanfor noone Lady.

Sixty-fourth Stanza

As if shehad cuffs andmorn! Sweet, O

my Prodigal,completeof lamps strainte?

The only:we lodge moreof the grieve.

Sixty-fifth Stanza

Blood! Flye towhere the summitof a’

the inferiorfearJuanna with

loue as achanson; butnow at ears.

Sixty-sixth Stanza

All but thisin his gateat they were

scarce pluck’d, theirspring. Thecave, ere Music

heard wasshee deems astrange, o ye!

Sixty-seventh Stanza

Bosom assail,but thetaper’s holland

she countriesrosbif.The many

a coralthehigh society.

Sixty-eighth Stanza

Aye unsought,had they sata deadly

tide—you loveno friends areinnocence

of those dreaming:and therest. I dream!

Sixty-ninth Stanza

Is used untilsurelyunto its

water, mostwretches beautiesdo and

their years. Whatis at handtell his life?

Seventieth Stanza

And towns, totak me fraemy mammy

yet. Countrycheer, to wheedle:so well

the deeperwhere isa paragon.

Seventy-first Stanza

Which I havestolen whatwas a human

feeling;but one breast.And, the others

made inthisviolently increase!

Seventy-second Stanza

The coast ofthis tidalwedge, slow tyrant’s

Shambles.And cave andfriend Hortensius.

I wishI were thyvassal blest?

Seventy-third Stanza

We’re told; hereye, fearingtoo epic,

and a tonesparklingin her kind.

Push-pin halfwaytheignoble cares.

Seventy-fourth Stanza

He notes are.Fu’ loudmeander better

of Maystrewed floorswe heard was

born, these friends,laughing awoman thus?

Seventy-fifth Stanza

But t wouldhe told! You,Lolah—though

clay struck andyou in thepleasure, in

case we downbeside Thoughtvpon a wretch!

Seventy-sixth Stanza

A bloom couldthat face tobe received

it were spiritbows beforehad a

large and splendour;Indiaand die.

Seventy-seventh Stanza

Tread, o ye!My futurediscontented

for tothe merchance!But people

ignoringin earth thekindly cries.

Seventy-eighth Stanza

To foe andever bewho all the

deep emotion.Since thepatient, holy

days: besidethe bewitchtwith shade.

Seventy-ninth Stanza

When I’m o’eryoung, ’twad besad. These

Orientalfriend beckonedas ears, on

whom the looksthat flash’dwithin us.

Eightieth Stanza

Give me. Theywyll: or theWolf’s Accompliment,

didonisdead,the loftiest

and trimm’d eithershee withthat when thine.

Eighty-first Stanza

End: when theshed them nowfor crowne her

weak and buildsup a blindnessbesprint.

Such peopleof early-rising Muse.

Eighty-second Stanza

Something blindedguests, whichleans sometimes

rash orimprudent grownwith morn and

in her kind.Guilt is youth,with my love.

Eighty-third Stanza

Or at theymay we whisper’dhow slept;

when thine. Yetas I wistna whereof

are you forsloe,and libertydoes less.

0 notes

Haven Hotel: That’s Disengagement!

A princess with long black wavy hair walked out onto a high balcony. She wore a black undershirt with a white bow tie on top. A dark teal shirt, long white pants and white high heel shoes completed the look. Her face was pale white and teal blushes were present on her cheeks. Her eyes consisted of white pupils and dark blue sclera. Perched on her head was a black spiked crown. She was the inverted, antithesis of Charlie, the princess of Hell in a parallel world.

“For all my life, I’ve been taught that all angels have good inside them. But I know that to be a lie. Ever since Lucifer and Lilith, God’s closest angels betrayed Him… I don’t think I can believe in these flawed teachings anymore…”

The princess was Coerciona Egnam, Coercia for short. She was born and raised in Heaven…though she was not at all one would expect her to be in such a place. Self-entitled and pessimistic, nothing much could cheer her up except heavy metal music, rebelling against the rules and the occasional brawl.

“It makes sense that only a worthy few are able to be here in Heaven. Choosing them out of the sea of sinner scum. Yet ironically, even the saints and Heaven-born aren’t flawless all the time. It’s inevitable that all those imperfect beings will go to Hell. They deserve to deal with suffering and challenges. Best of all, they wouldn’t be bound by social expectations. Heck, I wouldn’t be too surprised if it were me. I do enjoy my comfortable life here, just not these restrictions.”

Her servants Pub and Chub were fat white naked cherubs with horns on their heads, small white feathery wings, and black eyes. One tested the strings on an electric guitar while the other shot out torpedoes from a small cannon.

Outside was a white clock tower standing tall against the blue sky. The numbers read 0 then changed to 365 days. Writing above the numbers read “Days until the next cleanse in Hell.”

The black Exorcists did their job in eliminating part of the demon population in 2P Hell like they did every year in the canon Hell. But at the same time each year, the Anti-Exorcists, risen white demons with white bat wings and horns, invaded 2P Heaven. They carried glowing black pitchforks and turned innocent denizens into demons. The Anti-Exorcists would carry books and tempt angels with their innermost desires. Sex, sin, self-expression, sorcery, whatever that need was. Then, once they were hooked, they were stabbed with the pitchforks, causing their wings to burn off and sending them plummeting down to Hell. Nearby families would grieve at their loss.

It was quite the entertaining show for Princess Coercia!

Coercia leaned against the marble balcony and began to sing in a low growl.

(“I’m Always Evading Shadows”)

“At the end of the journey, there’s suffering

Denying it, how often I’ve tried

But my life’s a disgrace

Just a slap in the face

And the harsh truths have all been denied”

“A sliver of despair in this world of light

I know this world’s not free of sin

I search for the good

But get misunderstood

And reality will always win”

“Why have I always been imperfect?

Lost in this brainwashed sea

I wonder if the world’s to blame

I wonder if it could be me”

“I’m always evading shadows

Trapped, drowning in the social flow

Free-will forbidden, my answers are hidden

Lying down below”

“Some people sugarcoat their speeches

I always blab out what I mean

I may be cruel but I am no fool

Things are never what they seem

Believe me”

“I’m always evading shadows

Waiting for people to awaken

In vain”

A nearby portal opened and out came the Exterminators, bloodstains over their wings and bodies and harpoons. They took off their creepy LED masks, their white angelic faces revealed. One by one, the citizens clapped and cheered. One of the Archangels with four black wings flew up to the front, his spiked halo glowing. He took off his mask, revealing a white stern face with yellow eyes and short black hair. In his utility belt were a few daggers, whips, chains and a bottle of emergency holy water.

“Another successful purge,” their leader Samael (Venom of God) praised. “You cleansed more sinners while still keeping the population in a good balance. Well done, all of you.” He cleared his throat and made a cross symbol over his heart. “For the greater good in the name of our Lord.”

The angels repeated the phrase.

“Until next year. Dismissed.” The Archangel soldiers saluted and then flew off separately to see their families. Several of the angels, having been brainwashed in their Exterminator states, shook their heads sadly at what they had done.

All around Coercia, Holy City was basked in a heavenly glow. The city was located up in the sky among the clouds, but no one had to worry about falling, even the ones without their wings out. A large church with the appearance of the Notre Dame Cathedral stood proudly in the city square, made of polished marble. Choirs and songs floated through the stained glass windows as the regular angels went in and out to pray and visit with their neighbors. A large fountain sprouted non-alcoholic wine of a golden color. It had a white statue of Mary and Jesus as a young boy at the top, both with welcoming faces.

The streets were spotless and clean. Roofs and roads were powered by the sun’s rays. The Cloud 9 supermarket had endless amounts of food for sale…no one ever had to worry about going hungry. Charity workers and volunteers worked by the dozens, passing out food and bestowing miracles for those who needed them in the lower levels of Heaven. Metatron, the highest ranking angel, was busy keeping records of human lives, deaths and the messages of God.

This version of Heaven was very similar to the Heaven in the realm next door, the one above the familiar Hell with the Hazbin Hotel. The architecture was almost the same. But unlike those angels with their blonde hair and red blushes, these angels most often had black hair and teal blushes on their pale cheeks. Like in the other Heaven, some of the bipedal angels displayed animal-like characteristics: some had heads of doves, others had swan wings and mannerisms. Many of them had fur, ears, and fluffy tails of dogs and wolves. It was the only place where dogs and cats could dance and prance together without conflict. Still a few others had faces of flowers or even objects like harps and musical instruments.

God’s Palace was the grandest place of all: it was settled at the highest point of Heaven like Mount Olympus. Only a few angels were allowed to visit there. God’s abode, the Empyrean, had an elite group of angels guarding it. Seraph angels with six fiery rainbow wings guarded the throne of God, chanting “Holy, holy, holy!” much to the annoyance to those nearby. There were rumors that in the palace gardens, the Tree of Life and the Tree of Knowledge were grown there, heavily protected.

Lucius and Lilian were Coercia’s parents, those who took the place of Lucifer and Lilith after they were banished. They were named the new king and queen of heaven (Under God and a few Archangels), thus Coercia became the princess.

Lucius had a white face, teal blushes on his cheeks and short dark hair. Lucius wore a gray suit with a dark blue bow tie and a black top hat with two white feathers attacked to the brim. Lilian’s hair was long and black, and she too had the teal blushes and typical angel features. She wore a golden halo crown and an elegant white sequined dress. Both had white wings which could turn black when they were angry or defensive.

In a nearby movie studio, Valentine the butterfly producer, Nil the TV angel and Ashen, the doll angel sat together playing a board game. Despite liking old fashioned shows and the like, they still controlled much of Heaven’s technology and media. Iris, owner of an emporium, cried as she crossed out the name of her former female colleague, Francesca.

Along the street, a red car stopped beside the sidewalk. A tall creature opened the car door and stepped out. The spider angel had a furry dark gray face and body, plus multiple slender arms: six in total. He wore tall boots, green gloves and a shirt with a teal bow-tie near the top. His shirt and sleeves had black and dark green stripes. Green dots resembling eyes were located under his eyes.

“Thank you for the ride,” said the spider angel.

“No problem, Devil Grit,” said the driver Sivart, a white furry owl guy wearing a top hat. He tipped his hat to him and drove away.

Devil Grit walked over to a vending machine and bought himself a granola bar. He then gave it to a homeless guy leaning against the wall.

He walked inside a building and onto a stage in an auditorium. His opponent was already standing nervously at his spot, a microphone rising from the ground and stopping in front of him.

Sir Anguis was the nervous white snake. He had a white face with large slightly teal eyes with white pupils. He wore a white bow tie with a blue circle in the center below his thin neck. Surrounding his face on a flap of skin were bright teal eyes against dark purple. His suit was light gray with dark purple vertical stripes. Finally, he wore a large light gray top hat with a large green moving eye in the center.

The crowd settled into their seats and the debate began.

“Those other brave do gooders will do great with helping me with my presentation. Anyone want to try?”

A couple of hands shot up. Mechanical eggs on robotic legs moved around to help out the white snake lord.

“Oh thank you, my Nestlings,” he said.

Air Anguis pushed a button and a presentation showed up on a screen titled “Heaven Economics and Invention Ideas.”

“I don’t like to fight,” Sir Anguis said, clearing his throat, “and I’m super nervous up here…”

The Nestlings rolled their eyes.

Devil Grit glared at his cowardly opponent who then yelped, “Don’t look at me like that!”

“Heaven doesn’t need any future technology,” Devil Grit argued as he stepped to his podium, “because we already have better things: friendships, food, and fun.”

Sir Anguis glanced down nervously at his note cards and read from them. “At this rate I will persuade the entire East end of Holy City by night’s beginning. Or was it day’s end? And nothing, not a single beauty in this paradise of bliss, will be able to change my mind or escape the constrictive grasp of persuasive argumentation.”

“Heaven will be ours, though it’s mine in my mind. And everybody will know the name of…”

“Scared Snake,” said a female voice.

“W-who said that?” Sir Anguis asked.

“You ready for a debate, old man?”

The voice belonged to Berri Blossom, the opposite of Cherri Bomb in Hell. She was a tall cyclops with black skin, with a single green eye with a black cross in the center. She wore a long dark green dress and white high heeled shoes. Her black skin was decorated in some areas near her shoulders with tiny teal specks. Her long hair was curly, blue at the top and black near the bottom. She pushed her thin dark rimmed glasses up to her face, looking at her organized set of notes in front of her.

She walked over beside her academic partner Devil Grit. “Why don’t you play with your tinker toys somewhere else while I go over the logistics of divine law school?” She looked professional and poised. “Seven Reasons Why Heavenly Traditions Never Fail.”

“You want to go, madam?” Sir Anguis asked, a spark of rebellion in him. He fiddled with a few gadgets before the well-dressed Nestling eggs…egged him on to continue. He flicked his hood back. “Well, let the battle for tenure and status begin!”

A neon logo appeared on the screen, saying “777 News” surrounded by a halo. The names of the news cast appeared on the bottom of the screen.

“Good afternoon, Holy City!” smiled a pale woman with short black hair, wearing a light blue dress. “I’m Catie Carejoy!”

“And I’m Ron Wrench!” said the man next to her, wearing a business suit and who had a wrench for a head.

After discussing the weather, various humane societies, and legends on Earth, Catie continued, “The debate battle is underway between inventor and coward Sir Anguis and professional economics expert Berri Blossom. Coming up next, we have an exclusive interview with the daughter of His Majesty Lucius, who’s here to discuss her brand new passion-project! All that and more after the break!”

Inside the break room, Phalla the romantic butterfly angel adjusted Coercia’s white bow tie. Nearby, a blue tinted sign read “No smoking.” Another sign read “In The Air” in large letters.

“Okay, you remember what to say?” Phalla asked Coercia.

“Yes, I’m ready,” Coercia stated.

Phalla brushed her long black hair from her face, the ends of her black hair teal. Like Vaggie in Hell, Phalla’s thick hair extended down to her legs, giving her hair the appearance of moth wings. She had a glowing green cross over her right eye and her left eye was purple with a white pupil. A teal bow was perched on top of her head. Her skin was light gray and she wore a dark gray crop top with white Xs over her breasts. She also wore leggings, her right legging striped dark green and light gray, her left legging light gray.

“Oh this is gonna be great!” Phalla squealed happily. “How about you make your speech sound more exciting?”

“Come on, Phalla, I know what I’m going to say,” Coercia answered, crossing her arms.

Phalla walked over to the pitcher of ambrosia punch on the table. Pub and Chub ate bagels from the table. Phalla got an idea. “Oh! What if you…”

“Sing a song about it?” Coercia asked, with a roll of her eyes. “I’m not going to. This is serious!” She curled her hand into a fist and brought it down on the palm of her other hand. “They won’t take me serious if I start belting out some random song. Life isn’t a musical.”

“But neither is it an emo tragedy,” Phalla pointed out. “Life is great, especially with all the cute guys around.” Her single purple eye shinned.

“Romance, bleh,” Coercia made a face and Phalla giggled.

“Hey,” Phalla brightened, pulling out a piece of paper. “I have some ideas about what you could say.” She bounced up and down. “The highlighted bits are the best parts!”

“They’re all highlighted,” Coercia replied, scanning the paper. “You call your childish drawing your ideas for me?”

“Sure!” Phalla said. “Look here.” It showed a list of different terms “sinners = winners” “Misunderstood are still good” and “demons and angels party between worlds!” Skulls were lined up at the bottom of the page: “we’re all connected by death.”

“Say, that’s actually pretty good!” Coercia said with a smile of sharp teeth.

“Thanks!” Phalla beamed.

Coercia snatched the piece of paper from her friend and tore it in half, much to her shock. “But you should know my ideas are always better.” She tossed the pieces of paper aside, gave a salute and walked out the door.

Catie waved with a smile. “Hi. I’m Catie Carejoy.” She held out her hand but Coercia didn’t take it, instead remarking, “You can put that away. I don’t touch commoners, I have standards.” Catie, looked stunned, pulling her hand back. “So this project of yours, when did you come up with this idea of creating a hotel in order to…break the law as the rumors say?”

The angel crew murmured nervously.

“I’m gonna keep this short,” Coercia said as she walked over to the desk. “You might think my idea doesn’t hold water, but that doesn’t matter to me. I’m too influential to give a flying feather about what some stuffy old news lady thinks of my proposal.”

The crowd gasped. Ron shook his head.

“Well, if you can’t take constructive criticism and be polite…”

“…and we’re live!” called a voice as a buzzer sounded.

“And we’re back!” Catie said, rushing over into her seat. “So, Carrie…”

“It’s Princess Coerciona Egnam,” said Coercia, sitting in a chair beside her and Ron Wrench.

“Sorry. So tell us about your project.”

Coercia took a deep breath. “As most of you know, I was born here in Heaven, and growing up, I’ve always tried to see the good in everything around me. But recently, I don’t believe that’s always the case. We just completed another Extermination. So many sinful souls lost but for what reason? God said in the Commandments “thou shall not kill,” yet killing random people is okay? If we can’t even trust ourselves with our actions and thoughts, is Heaven truly paradise? Not to mention that ever since Lucifer and Lilith betrayed Him, we don’t know who to really trust. Some people are given too many chances!” She pounded her fist on the desk, startling Catie.

Coercia stood up and made her way forward. “No one is truly flawless. Mistakes are made, but we get blamed for doing things we sometimes enjoy. Sex, drugs, partying, swearing, even violence. All because we don’t live up to impossible standards imposed upon us, both here and on Earth! I can’t stand idly by while the place I live is subjected to such lies and propaganda! So, I’ve been thinking…isn’t there a more liberating way to hinder forced compliance here in Heaven? Perhaps we can create an alternative way to express change through…recreation?”

The angels talked quietly amongst themselves. Phalla nodded in appreciation.

“Well I think yes,” Coercia continued. “So that’s what this project aims to achieve.” She walked back to the desk and sat down. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m opening the first of its kind, a hotel that encourages moderate amounts of so-called sin!” She spread out her arms.

The audience stared in stunned silence. Many of the adults were shaking their heads.

“Who is that girl?” asked a dragon watching from inside a soup kitchen. “What’s her deal with trying to cause more trouble for this world?”

“She’s nuts!” added another angel with an eagle’s head and wings, wearing a suit.

Coercia added nervously while still trying to keep a glare, “I figure it would serve a purpose…a place to work toward self-expression. Yay.”

Among the crowd of angels watching the news outside, a tall man with a thin pale face stood toward the back. He wore a light blue dress suit, had blue and white hair, fluffy deer-like ears, and large blue eyes. His white wings were folded behind him. He watched the program with a look of worry. A deer creature made of light appeared beside him. A sign posted on the wall showing the same man as a DJ read: “Counseling and good times with the Techno Angel!”

A camera man shook his head at Coercia. Phalla walked up to him and pleaded, “Please give her a chance.”

Coercia sighed. “Look, I know every single one of you has insecurities and issues that need not be bottled up. If you could just embrace those sides of yourselves…”

Coercia then smirked. “Maybe I’m not getting through to you.”

Phalla clapped her hands and “ooohed” in excitement as Rub and Chub got the electric guitar ready.

Coercia showed a pair of sharp white teeth and black curved horns emerged from her head. Black feathery wings sprouted from her back and an X appeared over her right eye. A harpoon appeared in her right hand and a spiked halo appeared over her head. She was in her dark angelic Exorcist form. She posed over the desk and began.

(“Inside of Every Angel is a Sinner”)

“I have a dream

I’m here to tell

About a fantastic mind-blowing hotel

One of a kind, go and yell

A great place to dwell

Catering to specific clientele”

*Guitar starts and scream vocals*

“Inside of every angel is a sinner

Inside of every do-gooder is a beast

Inside of every jolly go-lucky mentality

Is a subconscious portion we know the least”

“Resist all the rules

You’re not passive fools!

With just a little time

Down at the Hazbin Hotel!”

“So all you rescuers, priests, and heroes

Gifted athletes, jocks, and cheerios

And the sheep citizens, relief is here!

All of you angels, leaders, and stars

Traditionalists with fancy cars

And the activists on Mars

Show no fear

No taboos, no laws

Embrace your flaws

You’ll be truly free

Check in with me

It’s the right path, you’ll see”

“There’ll be no more pressure

And no more status quo

Just friendship, fun, and endless bags of dough

Establishment put to rest

You’ll be like, “Yes!”

In the tunnel of darkness you’ll go!”

“So all your hierarchies, GMOs, politics, and isms

Lectures, labor standards, and diamond studded prisms

Ancient Indian elitisms

All must die”

“All you fantasizers, artists, servers, and lords

Spoiled children, winners of awards

Imposers of chores

Face your fear!”

“Be who you are

And you’ll go so far

Our service will raise the bar

You’ll be the star

Come from near or afar at the Hazbin Hotel!

Yeah!”

“Wow,” said an angel in a top hat. “That was…alright.”

The crowd clapped half-heartedly.

Catie shook her head. “What in the Nine Levels makes you think a single denizen of Heaven would give two feathers about becoming a sinful person? You have no proof that your little experiment even works! You want people to disobey God and the rules just…because?!”

Coercia lifted up her head. “Well, we have a patron already who believes in our cause.”

“And who might that be?” Catie asked.

“Oh just someone named…Devil Grit.”

“The grumpy old spider?” asked Ron Wrench.

“He’s not old,” argued Catie. “He just acts older than he is.”

“Anyway,” said Catie to Coercia. “You couldn’t even get that guy to do something bad, even if a gun was pointed at his head.”

“Oh I beg to differ,” Coercia argued. “He’s been troubled, dirty, and having conflicted thoughts for two weeks now.”

“Breaking news!” called a voice as the screen changed to a recent debate shown in a building.

The news came on, detailing Devil Grit and his recent TED talk about the 7 Heavenly Virtues.

“Well, it looks like the one discussing the Heavenly Virtues is none other than…conservative Devil Grit! What a coincidence!”

She and Ron did a “ratings!” and jazz hands.

Corceria rolled her eyes.

“I’m sorry to say, but it looks like your plan’s departed on arrival,” said Catie. “I hope you learned a good lesson here.”

Coercia’s eyes twitched, her teeth barred. “Lesson?! I’ll teach you a lesson, bitch!” The princess and Catie fought fist and claw on the desk. Ron called for security.

After Coercia was kicked out, Phalla followed her wordlessly to the white limo. Devil Grit, Phalla, and Coercia rode back to the hotel.

Devil Grit lounged in the far seat, wearing an outfit of black with green stripes and green gloves on his four hands.

“Devil,” said Phalla with concern. “I know you were trying to do good by doing your professional speech. But could you please try not to help society in public? Now people won’t believe us when Coercia says that people are free to express their earthly desires.”

“I’m sorry Phalla,” said Devil from the other seat, “But I have a reputation to keep up. Helping the greater good is His plan for all of us. Besides, a good professional debate is a reasonable form of self-expression right?”

“Not to everyone,” said Phalla. “What about the hotel? People are thinking that you don’t care about Coercia’s project at all.”

“I do care, senorita,” said Devil. “I just don’t think it’s going to be easy to accomplish in such a short time. So many angels are fixated on tradition, myself included.”

“I do appreciate all of your help,” said Coercia, still fuming after the interview, arms crossed. “But I will make this project work, even if I have to do it myself.”

The white limo pulled up in front of the hotel, a pristine building made of glass and marble. The group got out of the car and stepped inside.

White wings made of rainbow scales posed as part of the structure on the roof. The stained glass windows by the door were decorated with apples, a tree of life, and many shades of blue and green. The sign above read “Hazbin Hotel” in big letters on the roof. Inside the lobby, a painting of Adam reaching toward God was displayed on the high ceiling. The hotel had seven floors with seven rooms on each floor. There was even a lab down in the basem*nt which belonged to a man named Baker, the opposite of the demon fish scientist Baxter from Hell. A bowl of blue berries and blue raspberries sat on a table below a welcome banner. Phalla rested on a couch while Devil Grit munched on a granola bar.

“It’s probably a good idea to stock up some more food in this place,” said Devil Grit. “Good or bad, people always seem to be greedy when they’re hungry.”

Devil Grit pulled out a chart and went over probabilities and graphs regarding the hotel and the potential number of visitors. Coercia just sighed and walked away toward the door. She went outside and took out her cell phone, calling her mom.

“Carol cakes!” called her mother through the phone. Coercia cringed.

“Mom, I told you not to call me that! I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“Sorry, I can’t help it,” said Lilian with a giggle. “How was the interview?”

“Meh. It was alright. I proposed my idea, but nobody seemed to buy it.”

Lilian’s tone turned more serious. “Coercia, why do you insist that everyone must go down to that horrible place? Why can’t you just see the good in people?”

“Because,” Coercia said, “Everyone has flaws and they don’t realize it.”

“Yes, but that also applies to you, too. Before you get involved with the lives of others, you need to look inside and critique yourself.”

“I’m a princess. Everyone else has more flaws than I do.”

Lilian let out a long sigh. “Young lady, we’ve been through this I don’t know how many times. You have to push your selfish thoughts aside and just accept the way things are. It’s part of a higher purpose.”

“And what is this “higher purpose” anyway? To be His flock of dazed sheep, dancing around without any care in the world? To not experience ecstasy and adventure, even for just a moment?”

“That stuff is dangerous and forbidden. Thousands of souls would do anything to get up to this level of Heaven. And you just want to throw your life away?”

Coercia paused in thought. “If it means proving myself and serving Him in a way I see fit, then so be it.”

“You have delusions of what entertainment and happiness is, Carol. Sometimes, you need to take the time and appreciate the beauty that’s in front of you.”

“Other than my own refection, I don’t really see beauty in many other things. Well, heavy metal and watching battles…oh and watching sinners beg for their last breaths…”

“You have a lot to learn, dear daughter,” Lilian replied. “I’ll leave you alone to think about it.”

“Whatever.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

Coercia hung up and went back inside, shutting the door behind her. She leaned against the door frame, closing her eyes in frustration…trying to hold back a stream of tears from the stress.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Two knocks, four ones, then a last one. Coercia turned around with a sigh to answer it. She swung the stained glass door open. From outside stood a tall slender man with a pale light gray face, wearing a light blue pinstriped dress coat. A white upward cross was part of the design on his light blue undershirt. He was carrying a modern microphone atop a staff in his left hand. His small antlers were white and his hair and deer ears were blue with white tips. A monocle rested under his left eye. Coercia narrowed her eyes.

“Hi, excuse me…” he spoke quietly. “Is this…”

Coercia angrily slammed the door in his face.

She opened it again.

“…the right address?” finished the man.

“No!” she shouted, slamming it again.

“Hey Phalla!” called Coercia.

“What?” her friend asked.

“The crybaby Deer Man is at the door!”

“What?!” she asked, blushes appearing on her cheeks.

“Who?” asked Devil Grit.

“What should I do?”

“Well…let him in!” Phalla cried, eye shining.

Coercia rolled her eyes and scoffed. She sighed and opened the door again.

“May I talk now?” the man asked in a radio voice.

“Sure, whatever,” Coercia said.

The man held out a white gloved four-fingered hand. “Rotsala, it’s a pleasure to meet you, miss.” He walked in. Worry was etched on his face. “I saw your interview on the picture show and I was worried sick! I was afraid you were never coming back after your argument. Why I haven’t been that upset since the 1929 Stock Market Crash!” He sniffed, “So many poor orphans…”

“Hello there!” Phalla called with a smile, staring up and walking in front of him. She greeted in Spanish. “I’m so glad you’re here to help out my friend with this new hotel! I’m a big fan of yours and just being in your presence is just…” She swooned. “Oh just take me already you cute, pompous, talk show, blueberry pimp lord!”

She embraced him and he stood stunned, his face blushing. “I do love hugs,” he whispered as she stepped back. “I bet all of you would be so nice and soft after we get to know each other for a while…”

Phalla blushed while Devil Grit and Coercia made disgusted faces. “Not gonna happen, creep,” Devil Grit said.

Rotsala gave a nervous laugh, and popped a strawberry and blueberry into his mouth.

“You’re not gonna cling to us are you?” Phallas asked. “Or, you know…”

“Dear, if I wanted to screw anyone here…I would’ve done so already.”

Rotsala tilted his head. His blue eyes briefly glowed with blue upside down radio dials in them. Electricity sparked around cyan colored voodoo symbols in the air. His eyes filled with tears, tears spilling down his pale gray cheeks.

Phalla watched in bliss, while Devil and Coercia rolled their eyes at the show-off.

Rotsala shook his head and his eyes returned to normal blue.

“No, I’m here because I want to relax and help out.”

“Say what?” Coercia asked, eyebrow raised.

Rotsala held up his staff which glowed blue. He said with a sad crack in his voice, “Goodbye, is this thing off?”

He tapped it. A blue sad looking eye appeared in the center of the microphone. It spoke in a mechanical voice. “You’re silent, quiet and unclear!”

“That’s your motivation motto every day?” Devil Grit asked, crossing his four arms. “Pathetic!”

“Tragic and mysterious, I love it!” Phalla squealed. “It’s like the opposite of announcing. It’s…denouncing.”

Devil Grit elbowed her. “Hun, could you not get attracted to every other man you see? I’m your boyfriend.”

“I can’t help it, love!” she cried. “I just get so distracted easily.”

“Um…you want to help?” Coercia asked.

Rotsala appeared behind them after morphing into light.

“With…” he spoke in her growl then his normal shy sounding voice, “…this random thing you’re trying to do. This hotel. I want to help you run it, if that’s okay.”

“Uh…why?”

Rotsala choked a bit on his words. “Why doesn’t anyone do anything? Sheer absolute lethargy! I’ve been partying around and keeping busy for decades. I would like to do something more relaxing and easier.”

“My work became overwhelming, lacking focus. I’ve come to crave a new form of disengagement!”

Coercia rolled her eyes. “Does getting into a fist fight with a reporter count as disengagement?”

“No,” Rotsala said. “It’s violent and messy, not really my thing. Life is truly strange…reality, fantasy, true tragedy. After all the world is a grave, and the grave is a world of disengagement!”

Coercia brightened a bit. “So, does this mean you think it’s possible to taint an angel? That life is meaningless without your own self to temporarily control it.”

Rotsala sniffed and held up a hand. “Who knows? Anything’s possible. Sinning, oh the vice of humanity! I think there’s plenty left that can change such marvelous saints. But then again, the chance that was given to them was the life they lived before. The reward is this!” He spread out his arms. “According to God, there’s no undoing what is done…or at least that’s the way it should be.”

“So then, why do you want to help me if you don’t fully believe in my cause?” Coercia asked.

Rotsala turned around to look at her. “Consider it an investment in ongoing knowledge for myself and others.” He let out a small smile. “I want to watch the blessed of this world struggle to give into temptation, only to repeatedly realize and raise themselves up the golden ladder of success!” His eyes glowed blue.

“Right…” Coercia began.

“Yes indeed,” Rotsala said, both of them walking off to the side. “I see you taking risks and who better to keep you grounded than I.”

“Ah, so what’s the deal with Mr. Frown over there?” Devil Grit asked.

“Wait, you’ve never heard of him before?” Phalla asked. “You’ve been here longer than me!”

Devil shrugged his shoulders.

“The Techno Angel, one of the most complex beings Heaven as ever seen?”

“Eh, I’m not too big on people.”

Phalla sighed and leaned in close to explain.

“Decades ago, Rotsala manifested in Heaven, seemingly in one day. He began to catch the attention of overlords and archangels who had kept to themselves for centuries. That kind of attraction and magic power had never been harnessed by a mortal soul before. Then, he broadcast his adventures all throughout Heaven just so everyone could experience some joy, tragedy and emotions. Saints starting calling him the Techno Angel, (as unoriginal as that is). Many have speculated what unimaginable force enabled him to rival our world’s most ancient and constructive heroes. But one thing’s for sure: he’s an unpredictable source of silliness, a depressed spirit of mystery and a loving being of order…or disorder, the likes of which we can get involved in, especially if we want to end up aroused!”

“You done?” Devil asked. “He looks like a blueberry businessman. Or a shady con-man. Either way, you’re delusional.”

“Well, I trust him completely!”

“Do you blindly trust any man? All men?”

Phalla skipped over to Coercia. Rotsala examined a family portrait of Lucius, Lilian and a young Coercia in the center. Young Coercia wore a white dress with a turquoise top to it. Her hair was jet black, braided in black barbed wire, her cheeks had teal blushes. Her mother had long black hair and wore a fancy white dress and a round gold crown. Her father was dressed in a dress suit of white and blue, with blue and black stripes in the center below a white bow tie. He wore a large light gray top hat with a dove and a green apple on it. His cane also had a green apple on the top. Both of them were smiling, showing rows of sharp teeth, white wings folded behind them.

“Coercia, listen to me, you can believe this dreamer. He isn’t just a sad face. He’s a miracle maker, pure good! But… don’t count on him to believe in your cause. He could be tainted and rebel, but we don’t know that. He could very well side with God and your parents. And he’s most likely looking for a way to hinder everything we’re trying to do if it means following God’s rules. But still, give him a chance. He’s really sweet.”

“I…” Coercia began. “…we don’t know that. Look, he’s a crying bitch, and he probably doesn’t want to change.”

Phalla put her hands on her friend’s shoulders.

“The whole point of your hotel is to give people a chance! To have faith things will be better and people can embrace their flaws, their true selves! How can you turn someone away? You can’t. It goes against everything you’re trying to do. Everything you believe in.”

Coercia looked downcast. Her friend had a good point. She hated when people made good arguments against her. But it also gave her a chance to consider her thoughts. Phalla kept her grounded and added some cheer to her overall fake afterlife. Coercia smiled at her.

“You take care of yourself,” she said to Phalla.

“Coercia,” warned Phalla, “Unless you are serious about responsibility, do not make a promise with him!”

Demons often made deals with each other that often resulted in gaining power at the cost of one’s soul or freedom. Usually the one who initiated the deal would gain advantage. A demonic deal was bad in and of itself. Breaking an angelic promise could result in rejection, eternal torture and damnation.

“Don’t worry,” said Coercia. “I learned one thing from my dad.” She mimicked his low voice, “Ya don’t break trust with other angels!”

Coercia marched over to the Techno Angel.

“Ok Mr. Rot... You’re prissy as f*ck, and you clearly see what I’m trying to do here is a too-dangerous risk. But I don’t.”

Glowing blue symbols briefly appeared around a concerned Rotsala, then vanished.

Coercia continued. “I think everyone deserves a chance to prove they can be themselves. After all, it’s in their nature and the sooner they realize it, the better. So, I’m taking your offer to help. On the condition there be no lessons or lovey-dovey speeches made.”

Rotsala twirled his cane and held out his smallest finger from his right hand.

“So, it’s a promise, then?”

The room was surrounded by a pink aura as light spirits roamed around the walls. The wind blew against Phalla’s and Devil’s faces.

“Nope!” Coercia yelled, holding out her hands. The energy stopped. “No shaking, no promises! I…hmmm…”

She paused in thought.

“As Princess of Heaven and heir to the throne, I hereby order that you help out with this hotel for as long as you desire.”

A moment of pause…

“Sound fair?”

“Fair enough,” Rotsala said with a slump of his shoulders and walked on. His cane vanished.

Rotsala stopped and spotted Phalla to the side.

Phalla went up and tickled him under the chin, much to his shock.

“Smile, deer man!” she said.

Rotsala walked on, speechless.

“So…where is your hotel staff?” Rotsala asked Coercia.

“Uh well,” Coercia began. Rotsala peered at Phalla through his monocle below his left eye.

He stuttered. “You’re going to n-need more than that.”

Rotsala walked over to Devil Grit, who was sitting on a stool.

“And what can I do, my business fellow?” asked Rotsala walking over to the dark furred spider, blushing.

“You can suck a dick,” Devil retorted in a grumpy tone.

“AH! Ok,” said Rotsala, blushing and stepping back. “Can it be yours?”

“f*ck off,” Devil added, pulling out a long knife from his belt.

Rotsala summoned his cane. “Well this just won’t do. You want others to cause trouble, yes? I suppose I can cash in a few favors to deaden things up!”

He snapped his fingers and the wall beside the fireplace cracked. The circle went dark, the fire going out. Ice cold water appeared to fill in the circle and a shadowy figure solely formed inside. Rotsala walked over and removed the dripping figure from the water. A large single purple eye was revealed.

Devil Grit, Phalla and Coercia peered at the creature. With a balloon deflating sound and a puff of white smoke, the figure was revealed.

“This little rascal is Klutzy!” Rotsala announced with a worried smile, dropping the figure.

A black-skinned short cyclops female landed on her face on the floor. She stood up with a grumpy look on her face. She wore a dark green skirt with a white stray cat off to the left side. Her arms and legs were white and stick-shaped. Several blue dots stood out from the lighter green color of her skirt. Her shirt was black with cyan paint spots off to the right. Her large eye took up much of her pale white face; it was dark blue with a white pupil. Her short hair was teal with a dark blue spot off to the left.

“I’m Klutzy,” she grumbled, clenching her fists. “It’s a waste of time to meet you. It’s been a while since I’ve seen strangers.”

Her pupil narrowed from side to side.

“Why are you all men?” she asked. “Have any women here? Or video games? Screw this place.”

She briefly picked up Coercia, then let go.

“Oh man, this place is boring!” she exclaimed. She ran over to a vase and proceeded to knock it over with her elbow. It shattered to pieces on the floor. She tossed couch cushions aside.

“It really needs a more manly touch, disorganized clutter’s more fun.” She grinned as she poured dirt from a flower pot onto the rug.

“Yes, yes, yep, yeah!” she yelled as she proceeded to break windows and knock down more stuff. Then she plopped down on a couch once the room was messy. “I’m bored. Make me some food or something.”

Phalla, Devil, and Coercia looked on in worry, Rotsala just stared off into space. “She has quite the temper sometimes.”

A cat angel was working on a Rubik’s cube with colleagues. His furry face was black, framed by white fur. His little top hat was white with a blue band across it. A big teal bow tie was under his neck, over his black furry chest framed by white fur. His wings were a brilliant blue, with black and red mathematical symbols on either side: the pi symbol, E = mc squared, signs for addition, subtraction, multiplication and division, among others. More symbols were visible within his two pointed ears. His teeth were sharp and purple and his long eyebrows were teal. His eyes were purple and sclera white. The angel placed a Rubik’s cube in front of him. “Ha!” he declared in triumph. Read ‘em and weep, boys! Full…whoa…”

He felt himself being transported in a flash of light to the hotel. Part of the science room that the cat had been in was merged with the hotel lobby…posters of the elements, the solar system and Biblical works of art.

“What in Heaven’s name is going on?

Then he brightened when he saw Rotsala. “You!”

“Ah, Core, my old friend,” Stalaro sniffed, his head briefly looking like it was in between antlers from a stuffed deer head on the wall. “You made it.”

“Glad to see you, you son of the sun!” Core said. “I just completed my Rubik’s cube after just an hour.”

The cube vanished as Rotsala looked on.

Core raced over to Rotsala and embraced him in a side hug. The deer-like man blushed. “So, what can I help you with this time?”

Rotsala blinked nervously. “C-Can we snuggle?”

Core laughed. “I mean, seriously, why’d you bring me here?”

“My friend, I’m doing some dirty work, so I took it upon myself to volunteer your services. If that’s okay?”

“You must be joking,” Core said, laughing nervously.

“I don’t think so,” he replied.

“You thought it’d be a great idea just to pull me out of nowhere? You think I’m some kind of tragic boy?”

“Maybe,” Rotsala sighed, as crying sounds came from his microphone.

“I ain’t doing no dirty work.”

Rotsala appeared behind him. “Well I figured you would be the perfect face to greet and critique the guests at this fine establishment.”

He pointed his staff off toward a stand with vegetable drinks as claps and boos sounded from his staff.

“With your grumpy cat face and love of solitude…”

Core lifted up the corners of Rotsala mouth with his paws. “Aw come on, Al, Don’t forget to smile once in a while!”

His mouth frowned once he let go.

Rotsala walked over to the stand. “Don’t worry, my friend. I can make this more interesting…if you wish.”

He conjured up a bottle of catnip with his finger.

Core stared with wide happy eyes. “What, you think you can buy me with sad eyes and some cheap catnip? Well, you can!” He purred and took the bottle with him.

Coercia, Devil, and Phalla arrived.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Phalla squealed. “Brilliant idea to have healthy drinks!”

“No!” Coercia protested. “This is supposed to be a place that encourages sin! Not some kind of, frilly, Zen, child’s play…”

Core noticed Devil Grit and slid up to him. “Hey cutie,” he flirted.

“Go screw yourself,” muttered Devil Grit.

“Only if you watch me,” Core joked. “Or more likely, Rotsala will watch you.”

Coercia leaned in close to Core. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! You are going to go insane here!” She grinned, her teeth sharp.

“We’re all mad here,” Core replied, sniffing the catnip.

Rotsala walked in, an ever-present frown on his face. “S-so, what do you think?”

Rotsala ran over to him. “This is horrible!” she spat.

“It’s amazing!” Phalla beamed.

Phalla leaned in close between Coercia and Rotsala, embracing them in a hug.

“This is going to be very disengaging,” Rotsala exclaimed. Dubstep sounds emitted from his mouth as he stared around with worry. He stepped away from Phalla. “Coercia, I can’t lose you. We can’t lose you.”

Rotsala changed his light blue suit into a dark blue funeral outfit with a matching top hat. He did the same with Coercia, Devil Grit, Core, Klutzy, and Phalla, who were all wearing black clothing from the early 1900s. Coercia wore a short tan flapper dress and a round matching ladies’ hat. She and Klutzy stared at their outfits in disgust, while Devil Grit, Core and Phalla smiled as they stared at theirs. The room changed, the walls now covered with Voodoo symbols, Christian crosses and deer antlers.

“Take it boys,” Rotsala said. Light spirits appeared and played violins, a piano, and a flute in a sad symphony.

Rotsala sang his reprise to Coercia as they did a slow dance. Coercia looked annoyed but Rotsala smiled.

(“Stalaro’s lament Reprise”)

“You’re on a mission

Your innocence fell

And it’s so dangerous but hey, I wish you well

Yes your blunt protests

Will send you straight to Hell

And I can’t bear to see you banished, or your soul up to sell”

“Don’t bring your life to an end

No matter what you say, I’m still your friend

We all have our wounds to mend

And you’re vulnerable feelings are real, don’t pretend”

“Inside of every angel is love and emotion

They have values and lasting devotion (devotion to God)

While you recruit those around

Don’t be swallowed by the ground

The authorities can retrieve you tight and bound (no turning around)”

“Here above the sky

Spread your wings and fly

They’ll spend a little time

Down at this Haven Ho…”

An explosion rattled the windows. Klutzy saw a door flying toward her face and she broke it in half with a karate chop.

The room and everyone’s clothing returned to normal.

Everyone looked outside and saw a podium in the air, held up by flying metallic eggs. A familiar snake debater appeared.

“Look who it is harboring the striped annoying opponent! We meet again, Rotsala!”

“Do I know you?” Rotsala asked.

Tears came to Anguis’ eyes. “Oh yes, you do! Watch this presentation!”

The eggs danced in the air, singing a song about Sir Anguis trying his best to rule Heaven. He read from notecards. “You all can’t compete with me. Your hotel sucks. I…shall…destroy it…with… my…”

Rotsala giggled and blushed. “Your baby weiner havor?”

Anguis looked up from his cards in anger. “Not like that, pervert!”

Rotsala snapped his fingers. A portal appeared and white tentacles shot out, knocking the podium off balance. The metal eggs knocked into Sir Anguis and he yelled, “Ow that hurt! Show mercy!”

Rotsala used a drop of his blood and the podium exploded in green smoke.

Sir Anguis emerged from the crater, arm shaking, fangs shattered. Rotsala waved a hand and the snake was healed.

“Shoot me with your ray gun,” said a metal egg beside him. Sir Anguis face-planted on the ground.

Rotsala looked on, sadly while everyone else stared, stunned.

“Anyone hungry?” Rotsala asked turning around. “Please don’t make me cook jambalaya. It’s way too spicy and it nearly killed me! I much prefer tea and sugared strawberries, oh the way they melt in my mouth… but anyway, you could say the kick brought me straight into Heaven.”

Rotsala lead the way back to the hotel, the group following him.

“Yes sir, new changes are about to take place. Now…”

Rotsala waved his finger at the lit up sign above the glass, gem-encrusted building on the roof.

The sign changed from “Hazbin Hotel” to “Haven Hotel.”

“Stay tuned.” He finished with low whimpers.

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Dancing in the Wind

A/N: I am running on 3 hours of sleep and 2 cups of coffee! Let’s go!

Part 1

---

“Ah, there goes poor Jeras. Still hopeless in love.”

These are the words that he has grown sick hearing off.

“I feel sorry for him, this is, what, the 8th time already?” A man whispered to his fellow hunter.

“No. You must have lost count for so long. This is the 14th time.”

The whispers and murmurs about him continued to resonate as he walks back on his way to Mondstadt. Yes, the other hunter was right. This was already the 14th time he was rejected by the woman he greatly adores. A tired sigh escaped his lips as he spotted a rock near the city’s bridge. He took a seat and stared at the clear water of Lake Cider in contemplation.

‘Are all of these heartaches worth it? Or was it all in vain?’ Negative thoughts caused his expression to be more crestfallen as his grip on his aster bouquet grew tighter, slightly bending and snapping some of the stems.

His somber moment was interrupted by a melodic tune from a lyre. His head snapped at the source and found a young man clad in green, serenely playing a tune, presumably a love song, much to his chagrin.

“I thought bards are supposed to be good at reading the atmosphere to match their songs with. You seem to be not in your game now, lad.” Jeras said in a bitter tone. The bard in green tilted his head to the side as he gestured if he can sit beside him.

“Do whatever you want. I don’t really care right now.” He murmured as he passed his fingers through his hair to at least release some of the stress that ransacks his being.

“Do you wish to hear a depressing, grim tune instead? You seem to hate love songs as of current, even though that is the one best suited for you.” The bard said. Jeras gave him a skeptical look and quietly questioned the young bard’s sanity.

“Seriously? Can you not see that I am not in a mood of sunshine and rainbows? You better sharpen those observation skills, lad.” He spat in annoyance. The bard sighed tiredly and played a slow love song.

“Yes, i am serious. Are you actually giving up now when the actual battle is about to begin? Do you truly love her, if you give up now?” The young bard said as he stared at him. Jeras felt a surge of anger flow through his system when he heard the questions.

‘Calm down, Jeras. He’s just a kid who probably takes life lightheartedly’ He reminded himself as he huffed in annoyance and glared at the boy.

“What do you know about love, lad?” Jeras asked the bard beside him. The young man smiled as he takes in the breeze of Lake Cider.

“I know more than you can imagine.” He said wistfully. This caught Jeras off-guard.‘More than I can imagine? Ha! As if. He’s what, fifteen at most?’ Jeras reasoned. He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest as he continued to drill holes in the young man’s head.

“Oh, do pray-tell what you know, wise one.” He said in a mocking, monotone voice. The young man laughed and scratched the back of his head.

“Well, it is quite hard to explain, but maybe I can tell you about it through a song!” He said as he took his lyre and tested the strings. Jeras decided to humor him and nod, signaling his full attention on him.

///

Once, in a meadow bathed by moonlight, a chanced meeting occured. Fate weaved its strings, and brought two worlds in a fold.

A wind with a strength that topples strongholds, and a delicate dandelion who in the harsh gusts is bold.

The wind was drawn by the warm glow of the flower. The wind sought it and noticed the fragility of its love, decided to weaken its own power.

They tried to live as normal as they can. With the wind visiting, carrying a tune as it sung. The dandelion gently swaying, as if dancing on the music that it strung.

All is well, and as beautiful as it can be, but of course some things are not meant to be.

The wind slowly noticed how the dandelion was so alone. It learned that the others have long since flown.

The wind realized that since it lowered its power to keep its lover, it unknowingly allowed its beloved to suffer.

With a pang of pain, it came to a decision: to let it be free and go to where it truly belong. So with a painful song, the wind send its light along.

Years has passed, and the wind continued it duty on the land, keeping watch and more. Until one day, a seed fell from the skies with a familiar glow on its core. The wind rushed to its side and held it like how it did with its past lover.

"My days are now counted, but I gathered strength to land here again." said the lone, dying seed. "I did so, because I know that your winds will lead."

They shared their last moments, dancing on the breeze, trying to put their grieving hearts in a little bit of ease.

But alas, the hours is nigh and sunset fell over the seed. The mournful wind sent a song so painful, the divines looked beyond their throne and sent a special blessing on its silent plead.

The wind was to be patient, as its a difficult path it will take. But the widower was determined to fulfill the quest for its lover's sake.

To wait and wait, even as several millennia pass, because at the end, when all has been endured, they will meet again at last and share another dance.

///

After the last notes has been played, silence overtook them. Jeras looked at the young bard with sympathy, and spoke with a quiet and careful voice.

“That is a pain that I know I wouldn’t be able to handle...” He drawled as he saw the sun slowly set in the horizon. The young man hummed and carefully hid his lyre.

“You know, I also forgot to tell you something.” He told Jeras who looked back with a curious expression. The bard smiled and handed him his bouquet of Aster.

“There was a belief here in Mondstadt that is popular with people who seeks to confess their love for a person.” He stated and got the full attention of the once distraught and rejected man.“When a single dandelion danced in the wind without breaking apart, the person who witnessed it is blessed by the Archon himself.” He finished. Jeras sent an intrigued sound as he placed a hand in his chin, as if contemplating the bard’s words.

“Why?” Jeras asked. The bard in green stood up with a bounce in his feet as he looked down to Jeras.

“It was said that Barbatos himself was trying to court his lover, though it has not happened for such a long time.” He said with mirth in his voice. Jeras stood up as well and shook his head in amusem*nt. The Archon himself, courting? Pretty ridiculous.

“Alright, alright. I’ll keep that in mind, even though it would most likely not happen.” Jeras said while dusting his clothes. The young bard laughed as he turns his heel.

“Well, it is still a sweet gesture won’t you think? You are not alone struggling with love problems!” He laughed as he sent an energetic farewell to his new found friend. Jeras sent a fond smile back to the lad as he was now left all alone to his way back home.

While walking back towards the gates, he saw a lone dandelion, gently swaying to the wind, still intact.“When a single dandelion danced in the wind without breaking apart, the person who witnessed it is blessed by the Archon himself.” The young bard’s voice rang in the back of his head as he chuckled softly.

“Now I’m not alone!”

---

In an edge of a small hill in Springvale, a figure clad in green sat as it observed a man handing a woman a bouquet of Aster. The woman accepted the gift and held the man’s hand as they shared a hug.

“Playing as match maker now huh, Barbatos?” A sweet voice behind him asked playfully. He stood up to meet the young lady behind him and held their face between his hands, as he nuzzled his nose with hers.

“Hehe, Mondstadt is known as the City of Romance after all. It’s not too far-fetched for me to try and make couples happen once in a while.” He said as he met their eyes. The young lady wrapped her arms around his and held his hands as she too, watched over the lovers below them.

“You should have also told Jeras how you stumbled over your words when you tried to serenade me in Cape Oath~” At this, Barbatos’ face erupted in a blush as he shyly laughed along with her.

“Come on now, You liked it, My Love.” He retorted as he summons gentle winds that surrounded them and transported them on the way between Windriser and Falcon coast.

“I do and I will continue loving it as much as I love the one who made it.” She said as she rested her head on his shoulder. Barbatos turned to her and kissed her hair as they continued to walk to the beach.

“Well then, the night is still young and I still have time to court you with all the love songs I’ve prepared while waiting for you. So you better listen well!” He exclaimed as he led her running towards their favorite spot.

“Of course, My Beloved Wind!”

---

Mondstadt is known with many names, but one of it is as the “City of Romance”. Their Archon has always loved a girl who tamed his winds and made it warm during the cold months, which allowed the citizens to be closer with one another as camaraderie and friendships bloom, even with strangers.

Their love was so pure, it gathered the sympathy of the other gods as they bestowed her an immortal life once she has passed. Now, whenever dandelions dance in the wind, the people of Mondstadt sends a message of“Please, Let me to dance with them” as a plea to allow them to meet their fated one and share the same love that their Archon and his lover experiences.

The girl’s name was never recorded, but she is known as“The Lady of the Dandelions.”

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Bella’s 20 books of 2020! Thanks to @thewestishharpooners who largely reignited my love for reading this year. I mean I knew HOW to read, I learned in school, but I re learned how to LOVE it adkjfld but ANYWAYS!

The Magicians Trilogy by Lev Grossman (yes. I know. this is three, but it’s lovely!!! the first one is slightly annoying re: the characters, but they LEARN and they GROW, and it feels so REAL, like I know them, like I *am* them)

Beartown by Fredrick Backman. Have I talked about this one enough?? I don’t think I have. It’s LOVELY and gritty and REAL in the best and the worst ways. It reminds me of growing up in a small town. Lovely, lovely. It’s sequel is great too!

My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She’s Sorry by Fredrick Backman. For anyone who ever loved the real fairy tales - hard and sad and full of lessons and found love and family.

Turn Around, Bright Eyes by Rob Sheffield. I read this one at the beginning of quarantine after I realized that it was a sequel to one I LOVED a few years ago. If you like listening to soft love stories about the way music heals and how the way we love matters more than how good we are, this one is IT!

Equal Rites by Terry Pratchett. A little girl just wants to be a wizard. No, rather, she IS a wizard, and would like for the world to understand that. How hard can that be? Lovely and sharp, and the perfect one to tune into during a run

The Storied Life of AJ Fikry by Gabrielle Zevin. This is another story about finding family, and the stories we tell ourselves. AJ runs a bookshop on an island after the death of his wife. His most precious book gets stolen, and, as a result, he finds a new beginning

Cemetery Boys by Aiden Thomas. I actually read this one on a rec from here and BOY am I glad I did. I just. I don’t have any words for this one except if you LOVE“Aristotle and Dante”, this is the book for youuu

Red White and Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston. History, huh? It lives up to the hype. Just read it.

I Wrote This For You and its sequel by Iain S Thomas on @queenlokibeth‘s recommendation. Love notes for love lost, love found, and the love which remains, always. Added bonus: you can imagine these being the type of notes left around for anyone to find!

Less by Andrew Sean Greer. This makes the list ONLY because my little cousin recced it to me. If you liked Eat Pray Love I think you’ll like this one too. I was not super enthralled by the story but I adore the person who recommended it to me so.

Pillow Thoughts by Courtney Peppernell. If you like“I wrote this for you”, try this one next! The poems are sad, and they’re sweet, and you knew them complete, when you wore a younger man’s clothes....

The House by the Cerulean Sea by TJ Klune. Magic, madness, heaven, sin. And love. That’s it, that’s the book, it’s lovely and Important without ever being tragic.

Normal People by Sally Rooney. Idk why I liked this one but I read it in one sitting. I think it has something to do with the idea that people can stay with you forever without being together forever.

Trigger Warning by @neil-gaiman . This might be my favorite anthology of short stories EVER, but the one that really put it over that line is“The Case of Death and Honey”. Bees and love and Sherlock Holmes? Yes Please!

Nowhere Near You by @cuttoothom. I’d read this before but it has to make this list ANYWAYS because of the way it discusses heart, and love, and how the best love stories are the ones that are rooted in friendship and mutual respect and trust. Also mutant teenage kids and found family. It’s the second book in the series, but it’s my favorite of the two!

Odd and the Frost Giants by Neil Gaiman. American Gods was fine, but this one is AMAZING! It’s a kids book rooted in norse mythology with talking bears and foxes and owls and far off quests and an odd boy named Odd.

For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide / When the Rainbow Is Enuf byNtozake Shange. It’s a heavy read, of course, but powerful, and it’s a good look into the way that so many of us struggle with our own needs versus what the world demands of us versus what our culture demands of us. I liked it a lot, and I saw myself in it, which is perhaps the most important part

The Enigma of the Return by Danny LaFerriere. Another heavy read about grief, history, and homecomings. One day, I will go home for this reason, as so many of us will, and this story outlines the legacies that we children of immigrants carry.

Alice’s Adventured in Wonderland by CS Lewis . I love fairy tales. Have you notice this trend?? Anyways this is another re read but I read it at the start of quarantine as I was slowly descending into madness and it felt appropriate

My Policeman by Bethan Roberts but ONLY because 1.) it’s how I made friends with @thewestishharpooners and 2.) THERE WAS SO MUCH TALK ABOUT IT ON MY DASH!! It was a Big Book this year, but it’s a sad story, and an unequivocal condemnation of that society. Still, I’m pretty over tragedies at this pointttttt so i won’t be rereading it. It DOES have an ambiguous/happy ending though, if anyone cares!

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the marble king, part 1 [read on ao3]

Constantinople, 1453

The end of the world began the evening of the 22nd of May, Anno Mundi 6961. Perseus, who usually never had a head for such things, would mark the date indelibly in his heart for the rest of his life.

That night, the moon had risen, dark and eclipsed, and the men around him on the walls had shuddered, marking themselves with the sign of the cross. “An ill omen,” they muttered, fearful. “A portent of evil, surely.”

Surrounded on all sides by the Ottomans, Percy certainly couldn’t see how it might be otherwise. Amongst the rising smoke of prayer which surrounded him, Percy sent up his own. Poliouchos, Brotoloigos, be with our swords. Sthenios, guard your people here. Ennosigaios, he prayed, lifting his face to the dark moon, Father. May I bring honor to your name.

The night passed without further incident, but Percy could feel it coming, the way he could feel the earth shift beneath his feet, or the storms rolling in from the sea. What “it” could possibly be, however--that was the question.

It felt somewhat futile to pray to his father, and the rest of the Olympians. Though they had answered him in the past, though his father had sent him more signs and gifts and summons than any other demigod he had ever known, the gods had, of late, been strangely silent. This was not terribly unusual in and of itself--most children like him rarely ever heard from their divine, yet distant, mothers and fathers--yet even Percy found his attempts at conversation thoroughly rebuffed. The rainbow messages would not reach their recipients. There was not a single satyr or faun to be found in the whole of the city. The nereids of the Bosphorus had vanished without a trace. Perhaps most concerning, he had not even heard from his cyclops brother in quite some time. It was certainly a question he wished to pose to Chiron, but Percy simply had not had an opportunity to visit camp, what with all that had been going on.

The journey to Sigeion was not so long and arduous, merely two or three days at most, even if he chose to travel over land rather than shortcut through Marmara, but Percy simply could not afford to leave at this time. Not with all their many and varied enemies closing in on them.

Leaving his fellow men to mutter and pray amongst themselves, he turned to view his city for himself, leaning between the merlons of the battlement, resting his arms on the lip of the embrasure. Even from here, one could see the dome of St. Sophia rising over the peak of the first hill, even in the darkened moonlight, silvery and silent and still. He looked above, to the jeweled night sky, and wondered, not for the first time, for what purpose was this divine silence that they suffered here.

He received no answer, of course, not that night, and not for three nights afterwards.

On the fourth day, he had been forcibly shuffled off his post by his commander, who ordered him to get out and get some rest, after he had endured the very worst of the previous day’s rain and hail. The commander was but a mortal, but a damn good one, with a mind like Athena and a war cry like Ares, and arguing with him was a relatively useless proposition, despite the fact that, if pushed, Percy could rout his whole cohort. But he acquitted, and had spent his free evening walking up and down the misty, ghostlike streets of Constantinople. Hymns and prayers were sung behind every door, a litany of pleas, a symphony of sobs, a catalogue of wishes, all to the god of the Christians and to this god’s holy mother, which only made Percy more melancholy. How long had it been since he had seen his own mother? He had sent her away before the siege had begun, her and her husband and his half-sister, praying that his father had had enough continued affection for his one-time lover to see her and her family to safer shores, wherever they may be.

Small comforts.

Overcome with melancholy, he did not realize that his pilgrimage had brought him to the walls and domes of St. Sophia, the tether to Olympus. They were always a sight to behold, he thought ruefully, as facts he had never cared to learn himself surfaced from the recesses of his memory, even if he could not quite see them through all this damned mist. The mathematics of it was, in truth, quite beyond him, but still he could hear her voice as she explained, for the hundredth time, how the dome had been expertly balanced upon the pendentives, which then thusly bore the gargantuan weight downwards, how the forty windows gave the impression to the mortals that the dome floated above the cathedral, which of course it did, in a manner of speaking, hung on a silver thread from the heavens, how she had been quite nice when she hadn’t been an insufferable daughter of Athena--

“Percy?”

He turned, not to the blonde hair that he had half expected he would see, but to hair as red as firelight, the starkness turning her pale face even paler. “Rachael?”

“Oh, it is you!” And she leapt on him in an embrace that would have shocked the people around them, if they had cared to lift their heads from their unceasing prayer. “I cannot begin to tell how glad I am to see you.”

“And I as well,” he said, returning her embrace. They no longer had any awkwardness between them, and had not for years--and thanks be to the gods for that. What had once been a fumbling, awkward romance had blossomed instead into a deep, solid friendship, one that he was most grateful for. “What are you doing here? Is something wrong at camp?”

She shook her head. “No more or less wrong than the last time you were there. Troia still stands, for the moment.”

That was not a reassuring answer. “Then what brings you to our fair city? And,” he frowned, suddenly confused. “We are under siege… how did you--”

“I had to come,” she said, turning towards the church, despite the mist which shrouded it from view. “I just had this feeling.”

Oh, would it were that her feelings were ever good. “The Oracle?”

Rachael nodded. “She has been restless, as of late. She has not spoken through me in many years, though I can feel her stirring.”

“Perhaps it will be good news, this time.”

She looked at him, pityingly. “Dearest Perseus, surely even you know better than to court the Moirai in this manner.”

“What more can they do to me,” he replied, “than has already been done?”

They stood in silence for some time, contemplating on the odd circ*mstances which brought them to this place, at this moment. Around him, the prayers of the people never ceased, though in the thick, heavy fog which surrounded them, it seemed as though they were the only two real people in the square. He could see very little, but whatever Rachael could divine from the walls must have been fascinating, he assumed, whatever it was she could see with her special sight.

“This mist,” she murmured. “It is strong, and unnatural.”

“I suspected as much.” Dense fog such as this was not a common occurrence in the city, so sudden and out of place that even the mortals had noticed it, another malignant augury to haunt them. “Can you see through it? Do you know what has caused it?”

As long as he had known her, Rachael had possessed quite the unique gift, to see truth clearly and without alteration. Magic spells and enchanted fog were no match for her, she who had once traversed the fabled Labyrinth, Ariadne’s thread made manifest in a young girl. She had even been able to see Olympus as it perched on top of the dome, the severed head of the mountain balanced perfectly on the point of a needle, even as he and his fellow demigods could see nothing. As the Oracle, she had lost none of her keenness, speaking prophecy as precisely, and as cuttingly, as she had always spoken truth to her friends. She was not one who believed in lies or falsehoods, or who would hide the truth for any mere convenience.

So he knew that the naked fear on her face was real when she turned to him and said, “I can see nothing but this wretched mist.”

There were not many monsters he knew of who could create an illusion so powerful as to shroud even the Oracle of Delphi; Hecate, perhaps, but why she would have deigned to show her face when the rest of the gods remained silent was very uncharacteristic of what he knew of the goddess. And he did not think that even she would still be so bitter as to side with the Ottomans in this instance.

Faintly, through the thick net of psalms which enfolded the square, he heard those other voices, sharp and piercing in tone, yet rich and mellifluous in melody, floating to them from across the Golden Horn. By his count, this was the fourth time they had sung today; thus, the time was now evening, a little after sunset, if he was correct.

“What is that strange singing?” asked his companion, tilting her head curiously to the source of the song.

“It is the enemy,” said Percy. “Five times daily they call out to their god in this manner.” The Ottoman prisoners they had captured continued to pray their daily prayers, even in captivity, with a fervency and a dedication which deeply impressed Percy’s captain, though had sorely disturbed Percy’s other, more brutish fellow men. Having heard it up close and far away for so long, he had nearly grown accustomed to the melody, and found it oddly comforting in its sharp, even predictability, in this other man’s faith which would not desert him as it had with some of his Christian captors.

“It’s beautiful,” Rachael whispered.

“It is,” he agreed. He was sure there was much more to say on that topic, but the fear and unease of the magical fog was too much to bear, and, truth be told, he was quite hungry. Perhaps they could debate this another time. “Do you have a place to stay? I wouldn’t trust an Inn at the moment, if I were you. My mother’s house has an extra bed; you will be well come there.”

But she was not listening to him.

He frowned, giving her arm the briefest of shakes. “Rachael?”

She stood, still as a statue, her gaze turned up to the dome, her mouth hanging open. There was not even a breath of wind to ruffle her wild hair.

“Rachael?”

Her posture, already so straight, snapped even straighter, as though it were the string of a bow. Her head was thrown back, and she gazed sightlessly at the sky, her mouth open in a wordless shriek. He nearly toppled over as she fell onto him, her hands a death grip around his wrists. Green, sickly mist poured forth from her mouth, her eyes, her ears, and all around him in a horrible, deathless voice, the Oracle delivered its prophecy.

Tell the emperor, she gasped, in an ancient tongue that had not been heard for nearly a thousand years, that my hall has fallen to the ground--Phobos no longer has his house. In this state, she attempted to claw her way up his body, her shaking hands reaching for his face, even as he tried to hold her at bay. Nor his mantic bay, nor his prophetic spring.

His storm sense tingled, the hairs on the back of his neck rising, the sweet scent of flowers in the air. Thunder rumbled above them, even as the fog retreated, revealing the walls and domes of the church to the open air once again, and the mortals increased their plaintive wails.

The water has dried up! She shrieked, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. Tell the emperor--all is ended!

With an almighty crack, lightning struck over their heads, arcing with pinpoint precision onto the very tip of the dome. The receding mist lit up like gold and silver, like the celestial bronze of his secret sword, like the bright, blinding glow of a god’s truest form, one which mortal eyes were not able to comprehend, and in that light Percy thought he saw them, the twelve and the others, the hammer and the dove, the twin archers, the owl and the crown and all the rest, and for one terrible half of a heartbeat, there also he saw the trident, saw his father’s face turn from him in sorrow, and he could not feel the drag of Rachael’s fingers into his skin, nor hear the cries of the mortals as they beheld the terrible sight, though they could not understand what they saw, none but Percy could see how the gods fled the ancient city, leaving their people behind, leaving Percy behind, to slaughter and to ruin.

And just as swiftly, the vision vanished. The fog had lifted entirely. Rachael collapsed into his arms, the spirit of prophecy having left her form, and he shook her as gently as he could. “Rachael, are you alright? Rachael?”

As though she were emerging from a dream, she groaned, her eyes shut tight. “Percy?” she grunted, shuddering in his grasp. “What--where--”

“You had a vision, it seems,” he said. “Can you remember any of it?”

She shook her head, blinking. “No… what did I say?”

“You spoke of the Emperor.” It was likely that the man himself was within the very church, leading what was left of his people in more desperate prayer. “You said--”

But with a short, sharp scream, she cut off his words, and lifted one trembling finger to the sky. “Percy,” she gasped in fear and in terror, “Percy! Look!”

“You know that I cannot see as you,” he said, though his gorge rose within him. “What? What is it?”

“Olympus,” she cried out, with all the pain of a newly orphaned child. “Olympus! Olympus has gone!”

And as she wept into her hands, his arms around her, he sent up his prayers once again, to Athena and Ares and Zeus, to the father that had always professed to love him above all his other children, his thoughts rising like smoke up to a sky full of stars which no longer seemed to shine quite as bright.

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Give them what they want ch. 2

Jordan leaned against the gym lockers as she admired the swim team leaving the pool from their meet especially a cute boy that she suspected to be the son of Merida considering his wild curly red hair.

”Hey" Dina poked her side, "What are you looking at?" "Him" Jordan pointed at the red head and Dina mock-gasped "Are you trying to make your girlfriend jealous?"

"Girlfriend?" Jordan stuttered uncertainly. Ever since her break up with Pierce she had been determined to move on. Aziz kept telling her it was a bad idea to repress the event like it never happened.

But Jordan knew she was right. She had to deal that those kind of things would always happen to her so she might as well continue on with her life. After all her parents were able to do that just fine after centuries of abusive masters.

So she just tried to keep her mind occupied enough as not to let unsavory thoughts remind her. And that included dating. Few dates here and there, one night stands at the most. Then she met Dina.

Dina was bubbly and fun, a nymph and follower of Dionysus whose partying had disturbing similarities to her parents. (Not that she wanted to explore any more of that. She would leave those complexes to Oedipus.)

Her go with the flow attitude was so refreshing compared to the other classmates who were so concerned with their reputation. Royal or popularity-wise. So far, Dina had been casual during their dates so for her to mention that she was her girlfriend all of a sudden was surprising.

"Did I stutter?" Dina laughed, "I want you all to myself, babe."

"O-okay" Jordan pressed a kiss to her cheek. "So do you wanna go out tonight? I was thinking going to this new club run by Calix. You know, Circe's son. He said he would get us into the VIP room."

"Sure" Dina twirled a strand of her purple hair, "You know that dress you gave me yesterday would look so good on the dance floor."

Jordan bit her lip to keep from grimacing. As sweet as Dina was, she was about as subtle as a brick to the head in what she wanted. When Jordan had asked her out she saw Dina's eyes light up with the all so familiar gleam of a person that won the lottery and was thinking of all the things she could buy.

All through their date Dina kept mentioning how "cool" it would be to have her genie powers. Hinting at things she would like but didn't have money to buy. How nice Jordan was, that she was probably so generous.

Usually Jordan would have shut those hints down right away and ditch her date but that day she was tired of it. She was tired of fighting with people about getting wishes. Making a scene as she explained why she hated being objectified and how used she felt while the other person just yelled at how selfish she was. She was tired of people's nice acts stopping in a second flat when she refused. So she granted her wish. And the wish after that.

And the wish after that.

Okay, Dina may not be dating her because she had actual feelings or any interest of starting a romantic attraction. She wanted wishes like everybody else. But Jordan reasoned to herself it was better this way. She didn't have to have any high expectations or heartbreak that Dina only was sticking around for more wishes.

She knew what Dina really wanted and she was fine with it. In return she got some semblance of romance as Dina pretended she was dating her for any reason but wishes. She just gave the wish quickly and moved on.

"But.." Dina started "I was thinking I would look really cute in that kind of dress only in teal and possibly while in a limo. I mean I just got my license and I would really love to drive a limo first."

"Done" Jordan said quickly trying to make the whole talk of the wish of the day go as fast as possible. "I'll see you at your dorm later."

"You are the best girlfriend ever!" Dina squealed, kissing her passionately on the lips. Jordan gave a thin smile in return. Dina, she tried. She tried to play off hee wishes as nothing and then would start piling on the compliments and affection the rest of the day. Jordan secretly hated it. It was so fake. It made her feel cheap and undeserving.

"Jordan don't overthink it. Just let her do it." She told herself as Dina strutted away.

Sometimes it was okay when Dina did that even though she tried waaay too hard. The focus was always on how generous she was with her wishes, that she "spoiled" her, she was too good. If Jordan had a wish, she would wish that Dina's compliments would be based on something like her personality, maybe how hot she was. Yeah, how attractive she was, that would be nice.

"Jordan?" She heard the familiar huse, slightly nervous tone of Jane.

"Yeah" Jordan snapped out of her mental reverie.

"I saw what you did for Dina. Why?" Jane sidled closer to her so the few left in the deserted gym hallway would hear. Not that they would bother. If wishes and magic weren't being offered, students generally tend to ignore them.

Jordan decided to go for the usual direct approched. She didn't usually sugar-coat things but with Jae she was more honest than usual. At least she didn't have to lie through her teeth about how totally fine she was with the magic ban. Besides Jane had a way that seemed to see through your soul or at least pester you until she heard the truth. "She's dating me for wishes. I give them to her. Then she tells me how amazing and great I am."

Jane looked absolutely befuddled at her blunt answer. "But but you always said you hated that. People dating you for wishes I mean."

"Yeah, I still do." Jordan said simply, "But I can't stop that. So I decided to go with it. I mean at least I have the choice of who I give wishes too."

"But..but that's so unfulfilling." Jane murmered

Jordan was surprised that Jane hit what she had been feeling on the spot. She had been feeling unfulfilled. All the bitterness and hatred she felt with her failed relationships had transferred to this relationship. Instead of hating herself for being stupid enough to believe someone would date her for her. She hated herself for giving in juse so she could be "loved."

"Sometimes but you know, we do have some nice moments." Which was true. In between the complimenting for wishes, and giving wishes they did have fun together. They did danced and partied and acted like a couple before the moment was ruined by Dina's sudden need for a wish.

"You don't need a relationship to be happy. Especially since you don't even have feelings for each other." Jane said

"I know that. I know that I should live myself and be happy. But you of all people should know how hard it is to take your mom's advice to heart." Jane shrank a little and blushed in remembrance of her actions during Coronation.

Jordan crossed her arms, thinking to herself. It was hard to be happy with her when she sometimes wondered if the fact no one seemed to see past her powers was that there was nothing there. She was nothing special or pretty or interesting. Maybe even a horrible person. A horrible, slefish, bitchy person no would hang out with. That her powers were the only thing at all redeeming of her. That kept people from shunning her or from snubbing her. That maybe..she dared to think that even her own adopted family kept her around as an friend for just that reason.

"And I don't need a friendship to be happy either. It should all be myself. But know what? I want someone else. I actually want to have that fairy tale romance that this whole place I built on with dreams and rainbows but I know I will never have it. So Dina and I may not love each other. She may be totally usng me but at least in the way she is using me I can pretend she likes me."

"But" Jane stammered

"Yes pretend. In reality I will never get it but at least if I let my mind drift I can pretend that she actually means what she is saying. Pretend she loves me. It's just so simple. It is so small. Everyone seems to have it but me."

"You can't substitute reality." Jane protested, eve the voice of reason.

"Jane, why are you being so unreasonable about this? Let me be! Let me be in my lying illusional bubble of happiness and pretend." Jordan hissed "Let me be happy for once."

"Jordan I don't think this will help at all in the long run. You'll just be unhappy and bitter."

"I'm already unhappy and bitter!" She snapped "I've stopped being truely content a long time ago. It's all lies but trust me, it is better."

"Nothing could be better than this. I understand what it's like that no one seems to see you beyond.." Jane began but Jordan put a hand up to interrupt her.

"You. Don't. Understand." Jordan annunciated, a habit when seething. "You barely knew or used you your powers since the VKs came. I've been dealing with this my whole life. And I am going to deal with it for the rest of eternity. We are not at all on the same level. You never will understand what it feels like when everyone asks for a wish before asking my name. You will never understand the pain of people insulting and rejecting and abandoning you at every turn that I don't give them what they want.“

“You don't understand how much I hate myself for giving in. How much I hate being needy enough to want to be complimented and kissed. You don't understand the exhaustion that no matter what other accomplishments I do no will see past my powers. And you especially don't understand the nightmares and the pain of someone using your own powers against you. And you should pray that you never will because I will tell you. It feels like they are trying to rip out your powers and mesh them for their own use. You will never feel that utter despair and brokenness and know that it will not be the only or the last time you'll feel it. Nor the haunting thoughts of when and who might do it next.”

So my reality is bitter. My reality is unhappy. I know my relationship is a utter lie. That it will be short and end with another one testifying my selfishness and how unreasonable I am about one simple wish. Those "teensy weensy" wishes that just only further prove that I am nothing. I'm just an wishing credit card to be desired and objectified. I'm not human. I don't have feelings."

"Jordan.. I.. maybe you should talk to.." Jane attempted to say something else. Perhaps take her to the guidance counselor or her mom.

"Spare me. I'm fully aware of what's happening and the state of our relationship and my own desperation. Don't pity me. And don't bother trying to fix it. There is no use. Accept it. I have."

All there was left to do was listen to Dina's sweet nothings and pretend that there was a possibility for her to live happily ever after.

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Dear you,

When I was little, I used to look at my parents and think: how can two people stay this long together without getting bored of each other?

You see, I’ve always been the impatient kind of child- the troublemaker, the one who never stood still, the one who jumped from friend to friend because I could never really get close to anyone and I would always get bored of them. I’ve been like that my whole life and I became a lonely teen who was ok with everyone but had no real friends, because once people stopped being interesting I would drift away from them.

I was so sad because I thought I would always be alone, that I would never fit in or be able to love anyone. And then you came into my life and everything took an unexpected turn. You were like a living painting-ruffled dark hair, high cheekbones, perfect skin, bright blue eyes full of mischief and the promise of adventure. The first time I saw you my breath caught in my chest and the whole world slowed as you walked toward me. My heart began beating faster, my hands turned clammy and then… Then you looked me right in the eyes and smiled. That smile…Oh, that f*cking smile. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen and I wanted to capture it and lock it in my mind’s eye so I can get drunk on its lovely memory.

I scolded myself instantly for those reckless thoughts and realized that it’s pointless going after you- beauty doesn’t usually go hand in hand with intelligence and I would end up getting bored of you as well and only proving once again how utterly broken I am. Oh, how little did I know...

I can’t say I believe in fate or in a higher power that guides our lives but during those months after I’ve met you, I didn’t know what else to call it. We were in the same class, we partnered in 3 projects for three different subjects and we even had common friends who dragged us to parties where we ended up spending time together. We were pushed towards each other by the circ*mstances and deep down I knew I was happy because of it. It didn’t take me long to realize how awfully wrong I had been about you. My dearest, you were the most amazing person I had ever met. You were confident, bold, spoke your mind all the time, and yet… Yet you were kind, and gentle and hungry for life and adventure. You didn’t drink, didn’t do drugs, you understood the problems of our world and always enjoyed talking about them with me. And the way you talked… I could have listened to your words forever and never want them to cease escaping your beautiful lips. You were the first person that I didn’t get bored of and I found myself wanting to be near you, talk to you, even dreaming about you every single day. When I was with you, I felt energized, happy and alive, like never before. You became my first true friend and I never wanted to part with you.

I don’t know when I’ve fallen in love with you- it might have been the first brush of our hands when I felt a thousand butterflies flying around in my stomach, or when you hugged me for the first time and every place where our skin met felt like it was on fire, or when we threw a darts at a map of our State and drove to the place it landed on. What I do know is when I realized I was completely ensorcelled by you- the night of our first kiss. Do you remember it? Because I remember every detail of it like it was forever burned into my mind.

It was a warm spring night and we were standing on a bench in the park, after going for one of our late night walks when we used to talk and talk about books, movies, life, fears and everything that went through our heads in those moments. The sky was lit by thousands of stars and the moon was a glittering globe of light turning your eyes into living blue flame. As we watched the sky you drew nearer and put your arm around me, drawing me in. The moment you touched me every rational thought emptied from my mind and the only thing I could think about were your moving lips as you pointed at the sky naming different constellations that I didn’t care about. And when you looked me in the eyes I froze completely. Breathing was difficult and I was feeling so much so fast that I could not quite grasp anything at all. A gentle wind ruffled my hair and then something unexpected happened- you slowly dragged your fingers through a piece of it and gingerly tucked it behind my ear, your hand barely grazing my cheek, leaving sparks dancing across my skin in its wake. You stared at me with wide, open eyes and I felt your gaze as a touch on my face and I was so overwhelmed that I didn’t know what to do. But I didn’t have to do anything because the next thing I knew your lips were on mine. I never told you this, but it was my first kiss ever and… f*ck, was it perfect. The moment our lips touched, electric currents went through me, heightening all my senses and making me aware of everything. The softness of your hair at the nape of your neck as my fingers trudged through it, the small tingling of your long dark lashes as they touched my cheekbone because our faces were so close, the way your lips felt like they were made for kissing mine, the natural way I opened my mouth at the brush of your tongue against my lower lip as you deepened the kiss, making me lose myself so thoroughly in you that I wanted to stop time and remain in that moment forever. When we pulled apart we were flushed and breathless and then those three words escaped my kissing-swollen lips: “I love you” I said. Panic gripped me the instant I said those words. How stupid could I be to just blurt out my feelings after our very first kiss? What if I had just ruined our friendship with my impulsive stupid mouth? But you didn’t push me away or laugh at me. Instead, you cradled my face in the palm of your hands and said the most beautiful thing I had ever heard in my entire life, four simple words that made me ecstatic: “I love you, too”. And then kissed me again and again and again all the night before finally walking me home and going no further than the door.

The year that followed that night was the highest point of my existence. I was floating on a cloud of happiness and love, soaring above every problem and challenge. Somehow I still managed to be good in school and get good grades to not worry my parents, but outside of it, you were the only person in my whole universe. You were the sun and I was a planet gravitating around you, drawn to your energy and light and fueled by your love. We had so many beautiful adventures together and you made me see the world in all the colors of the rainbow and I felt so alive that I didn’t ever want to go back to the way my life was before you: so dull and colorless. It was the first time I understood how two people want to spend their entire life together.

I gave myself to you: mind, body and soul and we were perfect for each other: fitting together like puzzle pieces in every possible way. I was yours and you were mine and together we could take on the world. You made me into the best version of myself, pushed me to achieve my goals and dreams, believed in me when even I didn’t. And the best part of our relationship: we never fought. Every disagreement or problem we had, we talked through it , made compromises and ultimately solved it. Our relationship seemed so perfect that I didn’t notice how fragile it was: made of the finest glass that would break at the smallest punch. And f*ck it, did it break.

I remember that night just like I remember our first kiss. It was spring again, but this time the sky was covered in dark, heavy clouds, with no stars or moon to cast gentle light across the world, and the rain was pouring, thunder shaking the very foundations of the earth while lighting cracked the sky. I waited for you to come by my place but when you were late and didn’t answer your texts, I decided to go by your house and check on you. When I arrived it was dark and the house looked empty but something, probably the thing that brought us together, made me check the door: unlocked. I pushed it open and slowly made my way through the house and just as I was about to turn around and call one of your close friends to see If maybe you were with him, I heard something coming from your bedroom.

At first, I didn’t know how to react and I thought that my mind was playing tricks on me, but when I heard the sound again I went upstairs to check. Those moments going up the stairs and to your bedroom felt like years instead of minutes and the moment I pushed that stupid door open and saw that image I felt myself shattering in a thousand pieces.

I can’t remember what I did first- I might have started laughing maniacally or crying or screaming. But I remember your shocked, panicked face as you tried to explain everything while dragging on your pants and shoving that poor naked girl out the door and the way you told me you were sorry and that you loved me and that it was a mistake that would never happen again. I remember how I wanted it to be all a horrible nightmare and I prayed to whatever force or being or anything that watched this f*cking world, for me to wake up, but I didn’t. And the reality slapped me across the face in the worst possible way.

I wanted to forgive you because you seemed so genuinely sorry, but I couldn't picture myself ever being with you when the image of you and her was imprinted in my mind where moments ago it was full with bright memories of us kissing, laughing and talking, seemingly in love. The fragile glass was broken and I still had some dignity left and ended the relationship right there and then, cutting you off from my life completely.

I was so high on you that when I gave you up, I fell hard and didn’t manage to get up for a long time. I became a ghost of who I was before, the world turning from green and blue and yellow to dull tones of grey. I wondered what I did wrong and the feeling that I hadn’t been enough for you ate me up from the inside out causing me to lose track of everything. I was drowning in sorrow and hopelessness. I gave you everything I had, everything I was and for you, it wasn’t enough. I started wondering if you ever loved me and the thought that you didn’t make everything even worse, but seeing you looking just as miserable as me at school made me realize that you did love me, but you had problems that I didn’t notice.

One day I woke up, looked in the mirror and what I saw struck me. I was so frail and thin, my once bright, clever eyes were so lifeless and dull, my hair plastered to my face. At that moment I asked myself: what was I doing? Where was the girl that loved learning and reading more than everything? Where was the girl with wide eyes and dreams of changing the world? Did I just let a boy make me into this shell of a person? In that moment I decided that I would not suffer anymore and that I would focus on me and my future. I started working hard to get into my dream college, eating to gain back the weight I’ve lost and reading again. The trek back up from that ocean of sadness was a slow one and I still had bad days and never reached the full height of who I was when with you, but I pulled the pieces of myself back together and was forged anew into a different me.

What surprised me after everything, is the fact that I don’t despise or fear love. For it is beautiful and electric and it is, I now understand, the very reason we are alive. What we had was blinding, intense love that burned through everything we were: a supernova. And just like a supernova can’t burn for long so did our love not last long. We were young, and broken in ways we didn’t see and our relationship was just as broken as we were, but we were never able to see it. We had love and we thought it was enough, but we never explored our hidden, broken parts together, we argued so rarely because instead of bringing up the problems we had with each other, we shoved them down and never spoke of them. We were dysfunctional and you were the first one to break under everything you bottled down. I wrote this letter because, now, a year later, I am ready for the final closure and I wanted to tell you that I forgive you. So goodbye and know that you will always be a part of me and that I will never forget you.

Yours truly,

The girl who once loved you more than anything in the world

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mario kart

word count: 1937

genre: sO MUCH fluff

pairing: hwang hyunjin x gender neutral reader

summary: best friends to lovers through the power of mario kart

a/n: okay so if y’all haven’t noticed i’m in a bit of a skz mood recently lol and I've been feeling especially soft about hyunjin recently like ugH I love him anyways please enjoy this v fluffy thing I was so soft while writing it. hopefully it makes up for me not posting too much the last few days/next few days!! <3 also im kinda proud of this so pls give it love

song rec: fireproof - one direction

~

you: [mario kart, pizza and movie night at my house in 10'?]

you send a text to your bestfriend (and neighbour) hwang hyunjin, hoping he'll be able to make you feel better. your other friend, felix, just texted to last minute cancel your plans to go to the movies (apparently this boy he just met, changbin, is more important than you) so you find yourself annoyed and alone on this friday night. normally you'd just hang out by yourself and watch netflix or something, but you're actually in the mood to socialize tonight. you've changed out of the cute outfit you had planned into your favourite pair of sweat pants and a random hoodie you just grabbed off the floor. you're now lying sprawled on your bed staring at your phone screen and waiting for hyunjin's response, which doesn't take long.

hyunjin: [ya of course. loser buys the pizza!!]

hyunjin: [is everything ok? what happened to ur plans with felix?]

you: [don't worry about it, just come over. bring blankets!!]

you close your eyes, mentally preparing to get up from your bed. a loud knock sounds from your front door, and you groan and roll off your bed. you open the door to a smiling hyunjin, clutching an armful of blankets.

"you know, you can just come in; you don't have to knock."

"i know, but i like making you get up to open the do-is that my sweater?"

you look down to realize that it is, in fact, hyunjin's sweater.

"i guess so. well, your fault for leaving it on my floor. do you want it back? i can go change,"

"no! no, it's okay, you can wear it," he responds, slightly flustered, a subtle blush on his cheeks. you turn to head to the living room, not wanting him to see your own rosy cheeks as you fight back a smile. you and hyunjin have been best friends for as long as you can remember, but recently you've found yourself craving his presence more, longing to be around him, butterflies in your stomach going crazy at the slightest touch. it's the classic dilemma; you don't want to ruin your friendship by confessing, but at the same time it's torture to just be friends when you want so much more.

you lead hyunjin to your living room where the two of you set up your usual nest of couch cushions and blankets (hyunjin giggles to himself when he throws a pillow at you and it hits you square in the face, but it's your turn to laugh when you throw one back twice as hard, hitting his stomach with a dull thump!; you're surprised an all out war doesn't break out). you flop down, tossing him a controller as you open the game.

"my parents are gone for the weekend, so we can be as loud as we want," you mention, turning up the volume on the tv. hyunjin wiggles his eyebrows at you suggestively.

"not like that you idiot!" you say with a gasp, throwing another pillow at him and praying he can't see the redness of your face.

"can we pleeeeeease pick each other's characters?" he says, giving you his classic puppy dog eyes (he definitely knows they're your weakness). you narrow your eyes at him.

"fine, but ONLY if you promise you won't make me be wario again," you say as you trade off your remote. he giggles as you watch him carefully.

"waluigi isn't much better, jinnie!!" you pout, and he doubles over laughing. you choose cat peach for him as revenge (in his words, "i don't want furries in my mario kart,") and he makes a face at you, to which you simply smile angelically.

"best two of three?"

"like always," he says, rolling up the sleeves of his sweater. you internally melt at how cute he looks, intensely focused on the screen and determination in his eyes.

~

you win the first round, throwing both fists in the air in victory.

"okay i would've won if you hadn't sent that stupid blue shell at me!!" he whines.

"okay sure, you keep telling yourself that," you tease.

round two begins, and hyunjin just barely passes you at the last second.

"haha!! yesss!!"

"you're so lucky i ran into a goomba on the final lap," you say; you and hyunjin are pretty equal in skill, so you often bicker back and forth, arguing about who's the real mario kart champion (although you know you're definitely better). you start the third race, both of you determined to win; neither of you really care about having to buy the pizza, the boasting rights are prize enough. at the beginning of the third lap, hyunjin elbows you, and you gasp in shock as you watch waluigi plummet off the edge of rainbow road. as competitive as the two of you are, neither of you has ever resorted to sabotage. as you're placed back on the track, you see hyunjin smirking and your brain whirrs, trying to think of a way to prevent hyunjin from winning. a thought occurs, and pushing the nerves aside, you lean over and press a quick kiss to hyunjin's cheek. out of the corner of your eye you see him freeze, his character veering off course allowing you to surpass him and cross the finish line.

"YES! i win!!" you gloat, buzzing from the adrenaline of winning and the fact that you just kissed hyunjin. you just kissed hyunjin. the realization sets in and you look at him in shock at your own actions. he's staring back at you; normally you can easily tell what's on his mind, but in this moment you have no idea what he's thinking.

"hyunjin i-i'm so sorry, i just-"

"did you mean that?" he cuts you off.

"what?"

"or was that just a diversion tactic?" he says, voice soft and serious, contrasting the playful mood. his eyes search your face for an answer, then he breaks out in a grin.

"haha, your face is so red; i'm guessing it was more than just a way to distract me..."

"okay fine, maybe--maybe i did mean it. maybe i think you're really cute and maybe i want to be more than just best friends with you and maybe i'm kind of really in love with you. and maybe your face is just as red as mine," you blurt out.

"well maybe i'm just as in love with you as you are with me," he says, and his gaze flickers down to your lips, then back up to your eyes. you're not sure when his face got this close to yours, but you aren't complaining. for the second time tonight, you find yourself brave enough to lean in, eyes closed, to press your lips to his. the equivalent of a disney fireworks show is going off inside you as his soft lips fit perfectly against yours and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you onto him. you can't help but smile into the kiss, ecstatic and relieved that everything worked out and your days of pining and daydreaming and complaining to felix are over. you feel hyunjin's lips curl up into a smile too, and you both giggle as you pull away slightly, your hands lost in his hair and noses brushing as you look in his eyes.

"you have no idea how long i've wanted to do that," he says, pressing another kiss to your lips.

"then why didn't you" you question, playing with his hair absentmindedly.

"i thought you liked felix!! i was sitting around in my room moping all day because i thought you and felix were going on a date! i've never been so happy to get a text in my entire life," hyunjin confesses with a nervous laugh. you can't help but laugh at the situation.

"i can't believe you thought i liked felix!! i've been asking him for advice on what to do about you!"

the two of you erupt in giggles, nestled in the mess of blankets with limbs tangled around each other.

"we're so silly," hyunjin says between laughter, pulling you back towards his lips. "i can't believe i can just do this whenever i want now," he mumbles into your mouth, and you deepen the kiss, wanting to be pressed as close to him as possible after desperately wanting this for so long.

"you still have to pay for the pizza, you know," you mention in between kisses. hyunjin's head falls back as he lets out a groan.

"...i was hoping you'd forgotten about that."

"nope! i'll set up the movie while you call," you say, kissing his cheek before moving to get up. you don't make it very far before hyunjin pulls you right back into his arms, peppering your face with kisses.

"hyunjin! i have to get up!" you giggling.

"no you don't. we can just lie here forever," he says, continuing to kiss you.

"we might get hungry though," you mention, this time pulling yourself away for real (even though it's probably the hardest thing you've ever done) to toss him his phone while you pick out a movie.

~

you're curled against hyunjin's side, head on his chest, listening to his slow breathing and heartbeat more than the movie itself. the room is dark save for the glow of the tv and the streetlamps outside. there's a flash as the headlights of a car pull into the driveway.

"we're gonna have to get up to get the pizza, jinnie," you groan.

"shhh baby, no we're not," he murmurs (you ignore how your cheeks heat up at the nickname), and your front door swings open as someone enters your house.

"someone order a pizza?"

you recognize the familiar aussie accent of felix and he walks in carrying a large box, changbin following close behind. he places the box beside you and gives you a cheeky grin, flashing you a thumbs up. you blush, hiding your face in hyunjin's chest.

"ew, they're so gross and affectionate," felix pretends to puke, and changbin laughs. "lets get out of here binnie. catch ya later, y/n; don't have too much fun!" felix says with a wink.

"bye, felix!" you say, encouraging him to leave. the front door closes and felix's car pulls out of the driveway, leaving you once again alone with hyunjin.

"jinnie, how-"

"i texted felix real quick while you were picking a movie asking him to help me out, then called him but pretended i was calling the pizza place," hyunjin explains.

"you're so smart," you say, kissing his cheek in appreciation.

"well, i try my best. oh, y/n?"

"hm?"

"you look really cute in my sweater."

"i know. i hope you know you're never getting it back,"

"that's fine with me," he says tackling you in another kiss. you lie there for a while, lazily making out while the movie plays in the background, hyunjin's hands on your hips and yours in his hair.

"it's crazy how so much has changed in just one night," you say, pulling away for a second.

"mhm...although really y/n, you're still my goofy, loveable best friend. just now we get to do things like this," he says, pulling you back into the kiss.

"i love you, hyunjin," you say, breathless. you've said this to each other many times before, but this is the first time you're saying it seriously and romantically.

"i love you too, y/n," he whispers back, and you want to live in this moment forever; just you and hyunjin, the rest of the world is a blur.

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hello! i have had the privilege to see jagged little pill twice now and first of all: words cannot truly explain how amazing this show was. just. wow. but i remember when i was first getting into the show i searched desperately for descriptions of staging, choreography, etc. so here’s a (probably way too detailed lmao i’m sorry) synopsis of the show. MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD. seriously. im about to tell you literally everything i remember so retreat now if that’s not what you want. ok here we go. oh boy. (also i’ll be using actor’s names for ensemble members who don’t have character names and then character names otherwise)

CONTENT WARNINGS: sexual assault, hom*ophobia, racism, sexism, addiction and overdose

here’s act 1:

ok i loved the whole thing for sure but honest to god one of my fav bits is the first minute of the show. the STAGING. so as the lights come up and the overture starts we see a mostly still dark stage with all the ensemble members facing backward w a spotlight on yana (my love wow) in the center. she’s the first to turn around as she delivers the opening line: “swallow it down.” the rest of the ensemble begins to join in and turn around one by one starting w ezra (!!!! i love ez so much they are the best you cannot convince me otherwise) and the build begins. they move in closer to yana, chanting “around and around” and then all come in with “WAKE UPPPP” and they all bend down in this beautiful moment where the bass just. drops. and then in comes the band holy sh*t. so the band is on these really cool moving platforms that come in from the wings and as the bass drops and the ensemble starts jamming out they come on stage and it’s just truly incredible. they sing some of the overture like this w stunning choreography and then as you oughta know’s theme comes in jo runs in and joins the ensemble but it’s really slick you don’t really notice at first until the second part of the chorus when she breaks away and comes center stage, singing on top of the ensemble as they start to break apart behind her and pull out these stunning moving panels that are like 15 feet tall w projections on them. jo runs back through the panels right before they meet in the middle and close behind her revealing the words “jagged little pill” as the overture comes to a close.

the panels now open up and reveal a couch with all four healys sitting on it w santa hats and reindeer antlers galore, posing for a christmas card photo and yelling “merry christmas from the healys!” we have mj, the mom, steve, the dad, nick the perfect son and frankie the adopted, black daughter. mj then goes on with her monologue about how great their lives are while they all sit there with frighteningly fake smiles pasted on their faces while the ensemble plays carolers behind them. soon the stage morphs to show us steve’s office on one side of the healy living room and frankie’s room on the other as mj begins to write in the card about her perfect little family. she discusses steve’s new position as partner (while he chugs a bottle of pepto-bismol), nick’s acceptance to harvard (they recreate the moment he opens the email) and then finally frankie and her best friend jo. as mj talks about frankie and jo she mentions how they’re upstairs right now doing a “little craft project” and off to the side you see them working on a sign that says “f*ck FASCISM” which jo holds up w pride. then (lmao) mj talks about frankie’s friendship w jo and how she loves “female friendships” and how she remembers “the days of discussing clothes and boys” and meanwhile to her left frankie and jo are literally just full on making out in her room clearly romantically involved and it’s just so f*cking hilarious.

then mj begins to discuss her car accident from the previous year and how she’s battling it w “natural remedies.” meanwhile, the ensemble, truly the conscious of the show, sings right through you while looking on from behind her. she begins to discuss her hot yoga and the stage begins to turn red, the music growing as we see all four healys in their own sections of the stage, each acting like everything is fine but doing something that shows its not (like nick is always doing push-ups. rip derek honestly lmao) as the song comes to a close.

we now transition to the breakfast table where mj is setting out pancakes. steve tries to kiss her but she pulls away, saying she’s “not a big morning kisser.” they talk for a bit, including the iconic exchange between mj and frankie: “when my friends and i wanted to save endangered sea lions we sold brownies on the quad. well, actually they were blondies” “of course they were blondies. even your brownies are caucasian.” aaaaand that line kicks off all i really want. such a powerful song. frankie stands up on the table and the band and ensemble come back in, just completely rocking out and blowing us all away w their choreography and energy as they surround the family, dancing around, on top and under the table. in the build-up to and then during frankie’s line “i’m frustrated by your apathy” the ensemble surrounds her with various protest signs. i can’t remember all of them but some highlights include “our future is dying,” “black joy matters,” “my body my choice,” “don’t be a fossil fool,” “white silence costs lives,” “no human is illegal,” “stop separating families” and “no ban on stolen land” while frankie carries one that says “does my period scare you.” it’s stunning. fast forward now to the “why are you petrified of silence? here can you handle this?” line. wow. frankie stands on the table, staring down mj in front of her and holds up a sign that says “fear has no place in our schools.” the ensemble all lays down in front of her w their arms crossed over their chests like they’re corpses and the screens behind her show projections of memorials for victims of gun violence in schools. the whole theater is silent for a solid thirty seconds. incredible. then they continue. another heart-wrenching moment is when it gets quiet before the final climax of the song and frankie goes “and all i really want is a wavelength.” she’s reaching out across the kitchen table to mj, who’s looking away from her at nick. mj’s arm rests on the table and as soon as frankie’s about to touch her hand mj moves to touch her own face, still looking the other way, not even realizing what frankie was doing. and their last belts. wow. mj and frankie are center stage, yelling at each other as they scream the final lines before frankie stomps off to go to school and mj is left alone in the kitchen where she swallows a pill— her pain meds for her car accident injuries.

a brief side note: let’s talk about the ensemble real quick. first of all they had input in a lot of their outfits and my fav is ezra’s which has a huge pink triangle on the back (they’re trans). i mean. wow. but also what’s important to know is that a lot of the main cast have sort of dancer body doubles? they have dancers who are supposed to represent them, be their alter egos and this comes into play a lot in the choreography and staging. mj’s double is heather, frankie’s double is ebony and jo’s double is ezra. i bring this up here because when frankie sings “i am fascinated by the spirit to a woman. i’m humbled by her humble nature” the ensemble lifts up ebony behind her and spins her around while frankie takes the same pose on the floor in front of them. absolutely genius.

and now we’re at school! we see bella, nick and andrew briefly discussing the party that will be happening tonight and then we zero in on jo (played my lauren patten my actual favorite human on this earth holy sh*t) and frankie, hanging out during what’s supposed to be a meeting for SMAC (social movement and advocacy committee) which frankie started— but rn they’re the only two members (also jo came in w a sign that says “let my people flow” and a picture of a pad because they were planning on protesting for the school to provide free menstrual products). jo and frankie have a sweet conversation featuring some hilarious comments from jo. frankie complains about her mom and jo responds “your mom is iconic. she’s one salad away from a psychotic break i live for it” then “at least your mom yells at you. mine prays for me. dear jesus. please don’t let my only child be a gay. especially not one of those obvious gays who wears performance fleece and utility sandals. in the name of fox news amen.” frankie is immediately concerned for jo and, for just a second, we see jo’s vulnerability and we know she must be really hurting but just as quickly she brushes it off: “i don’t care. i’ve been out of f*cks to give since the early 2000’s.” really just phenomenal acting from lauren. wow. and now we have hand in my pocket! such a wonderful song. most of it is fun and uplifting (including a cute kiss between jo and frankie) but there was one part that really stood out to me. when jo sings “i haven’t got it all figured out just yet” she kinda stops for a moment and her face falls just slightly and frankie stands behind her, concerned, as the ensemble members dancing behind them all pair up and hug one another (including jo and frankie’s doubles: ezra and ebony). but just like that jo is back to singing and dancing and laughing, hiding her pain and uncertainty. at the end they do this adorable slap dance thing with the ensemble around them and everyone’s cheering and the lights are rainbow (yup thats gay) and it’s just so wholesome i love it.

now we go back to mj. we see her at the pharmacist’s office, trying to get a refill for her painkillers but being denied as she’s out. she then goes to a cafe where she runs into some other moms (laurel, jane and heather) and it’s hilarious. they’re all wearing the exact same outfits and sound so so fake. at one point ebony who is playing the barista asks if she can start a drink for anyone and one of them goes “i’ll take a skinny flat white” and ebony goes “how appropriate.” mj is clearly uncomfortable this whole time, especially when one of them makes a racist comment about frankie. after this she goes behind the cafe where she meets up w a drug dealer (played by john) and gets more of her painkillers. now comes smiling. this song is stunning. the whole song we see mj’s day moving backwards, all the way back to the morning when she took her first pill and she stares at herself in the mirror, clearly struggling. the whole song she and the ensemble all actually act everything out backwards, featuring ezra jump-roping backwards and antonio walking backwards while drinking coffee. true talent honestly lmao. and they move the sets so smoothly it’s amazing.

ironic!! so cute. so funny. the context is that frankie is reciting a poem to her class and they’re critiquing it but phoenix defends her. the desks are on wheels and the choreography is adorable. and frankie and phoenix’s voices WOW. and heather plays a stoner high schooler. this is not important it’s just so funny. after ironic there’s a moment in the hall where frankie and phoenix are still talking and so clearly flirting. jo walks up behind them but only sees frankie (on one side of the stage) at first. she starts to move towards her but then notices she’s talking to someone and gets a glimpse of her flirting w phoenix. jo’s face falls and she kind of falters, trying to decide whether to walk up to them and ultimately decides not to and walks off. lauren patten’s mannerisms in this whole show are just truly stunning. i really felt for jo everytime she was on stage. she’s so clearly putting up this sarcastic, uncaring front but really she’s just awkward and scared and lonely and lauren really does a phenomenal job making that come through— down to the fidgeting and awkward steps and nervous ticks that, once you notice them, make it clear who jo really is even though she doesn’t want to show it. yes i love lauren patten is it that obvious.

oK ANYWAY. back to mj. we see steve call to say he’s gonna be home late and they have a v passive aggressive conversation and then so unsexy happens. rip steve honestly. then perfect. mj and nick are decorating the tree. there’s a great line where mj goes “you need to make decisions for yourself” and he tries to put an ornament on the tree and she goes “no not there” and it’s so funny. but she just keeps going on about how he’s the only thing she’s done right and how proud she is of him. he asks “what if i hadn’t gotten in” re harvard and she goes ”you were always going to get in.”a couple of sympathetic sighs from the audience. then nick sings perfect and it’s honestly heartbreaking he’s so good and you feel so bad for him, always terrified that if he ever messes up his parents won’t love him anymore. that transitions right into lancer’s party.

here’s the thing about lancer’s party. this is the party where bella is sexually assaulted by andrew, kicking off her powerful storyline as a survivor and nick’s storyline about coming to terms w why he didn’t do anything at the time. but here’s why it’s so chilling, if that wasn’t enough: bella and andrew’s interactions at the party are not emphasized. in fact, if you didn’t know about the plot beforehand, you may not really notice anything at all. but it’s there. oh wow is it there. EVERY SINGLE TIME bella has anything to drink, andrew is the one to give it to her. she goes to talk to her friends and andrew grabs her hand and casually pulls her away. he puts his hand on her waist a little too often. he tries to get her alone one too many times. he barely leaves her side. but if you’re not looking for it, you may only see one of these just slightly ~off~ actions and think “hm that’s a little weird” and then move on. they’re not always center stage. they’re not always in a spotlight. they’re just part of the party. and we as audience members don’t stop to pay attention to them, even if we see something off. we’re not urged by staging to see it as important or vital to the story. and we don’t notice anything until it’s too late. the show puts us in the position of a bystander, like nick, who sees this all happening and does nothing. and this really comes back in the second act and punches you in the gut like. just wait.

anyways while the party is raging phoenix and frankie go outside on the swingset (!!!) and have a little heart-to-heart. they talk about their dysfunctional families and how frankie is adopted, a black girl in a perfect white family and how her mom “doesn’t see color” but she wishes she did. she talks about how her parents adopted her when she was little and how she’s been “f*cking up their lives ever since.” phoenix comments “i have this theory that perfect families only exist in orange juice commercials and utah.” it’s funny and cute until it’s not. they start talking about how it’s not like they don’t love their families, it’s that they wish they were better kids. they think they’re not good enough and if they were different, everything would be better. phoenix says “if i were a better kid i’d have it all figured out. i could fix things at home. my dad might still call me.” and frankie agrees, adding “my mom might still love me.” and cue that i would be good. absolutely. heartbreaking. i cried so much. but it gets even worse when jo comes in. she enters on stage left w her mom, without her beanie and her flannel tied around her waist wearing a bright pink blouse. “there. i wore it.” she says, visibly shaking and looking away from her mom, almost curling in on herself. she takes the blouse off with unsteady hands, holding it behind her and still looking away. her mom yanks it out of her grip and jo flinches, “i don’t know why i even try, joanne.” as her mom leaves the stage jo quickly puts back on her beanie and flannel, looking terrified and heartbroken, and begins to sing “why won’t you accept who i need to be.” she crosses the stage to stand near phoenix and frankie, shaking and fidgeting the whole time. at the climax they all come to the front, frankie in the center, and just sing their hearts out and they just all look so— desperate. sad. lonely. it’s really just gut-wrenchingly beautiful and sad and just ugh. wow. and as jo starts to walk off stage and the lights fade phoenix asks “do you have a boyfriend?” jo freezes. “a boyfriend?” frankie repsonds, “no.”

now we’re on to the next day and jo is bringing coffee for her and frankie as she meets frankie at the swingset. they talk about last night and jo once again jokes and brushes off the church social she had to go to w her mom: “did you know that god forgives gay feelings as long as you don’t act on them? thanks for the life hack father tim.” then they discuss the party and jo pulls out her phone, showing that people had taken pictures of bella without her shirt on while she was passed out and had posted them all over social media. frankie immediately insists they go visit bella right that second to make sure she’s ok and tell her that they’re here for her. jo follows, in awe of frankie’s bravery and passion. as they head to bella’s we see andrew and nick doing their morning workout, andrew talking about how bella was “all over him” while the ensemble surrounds them, singing “this could get messy.”

we get to bella’s where she’s sitting on her couch in a flannel and sweatpants under a blanket. she eventually tells frankie and jo what happened, how she passed out in an empty room and woke up a few times to andrew assaulting her while she was unable to even talk much less fight back. as she begins to tell her story (it’s truly haunting, she sounds so just dead and done kathryn gallagher is amazing) a soft sound can be heard— the theme from predator. the soft “ooh” from the very start of bella’s song in the second act rings through the otherwise deathly silence as she softly starts to recount the horrors of the night before. frankie and jo immediately tell her that’s rape and she responds “what? no. i’m just a f*cking idiot.” they try to assure her she’s not and urge her to go to the police. her response is heartbreaking: “are you kidding me? like i’m really gonna say andrew montefuray… everyone like worships his whole family. there is literally a statue of his grandpa downtown. plus, they never believe anyone anyway.” jo responds “we believe you.” she then reveals that nick saw something at the party and didn’t do anything and frankie goes to confront nick about it. he responds by telling her bella’s always overdramatic, that he shouldn’t be expected to look out for everyone. frankie looks devastated. mj walks in on their fight and, in response to frankie telling her bella was raped, says “you can’t just go calling the police every time a girl gets drunk and there’s some he said she said. these things can happen. i wouldn’t go making this your cause of the week.” cue wake up. frankie sings the opening lines directly to nick and mj, looking both furious and horrified. as the song builds the ensemble joins in and off to the side we see an interrogation room. frankie and jo come in w bella, trying to support her through what looks like a stressful interrogation w an intimidating male police officer who is constantly frowning and interrupting. we don’t get any dialogue from this as the song is happening around them but we see bella look more and more embarrassed and devastated as frankie and jo only look more angry. they eventually leave and andrew takes a seat and has what looks like a pleasant conversation w the policeman that ends in a friendly handshake. at the climax of wake up, after the interrogations, the whole ensemble is on stage and with them are the two moving panels/platforms. the main cast stand on the panels, and the ensemble moves them and flips them, revealing characters that were on the other side in switches so fast it’s incredibly impressive and overall a truly mesmerizing scene. the last line is frankie, alone in center stage with the ensemble behind her looking at mj who is in front of her staring out into the audience as frankie yells “wake up.” stunning.

the last scene of act one is forgiven. wow wow wow. mj goes into the church and begins to pray. she prays for her kids, for her marriage. then she begins to discuss something else. she goes “the last time i asked you for something…. well. you remember back in college. even after that night— that was my fault.” her voice breaks a little, sounding weaker and more scared by the second and once again the soft, ominous theme of predator can be heard in the distance. the same theme from when bella was accounting her assault and the theme that will come back in act two. chills. every time. mj starts to break down then, asking for help w her addiction. she admits she’s having a hard time stopping and begs for assistance. cue forgiven. in comes part of the ensemble— but only the non-male members of the ensemble. stunning. she begins the song and the ensemble moves the church pews and panels in a wonderful bit of choreography as the song grows. by the second chorus bella appears from the back of the stage and slowly walks up to join mj as the non-male members of the ensemble move the pews to surround the two of them. mj and bella stand back to back in front of a semi-circle of the non-male ensemble standing on benches. they chant “sinner! witch! whor*!” while mj continues to sing and they point at bella and mj at each word, the lights flashing. it’s haunting. then bella joins the ensemble and they leave as mj moves to exit the church. she’s outside now, snow falling around her as we reach the climax of the song and the rest of the cast joins her on stage one by one. i couldn’t tell this was the case on the cast album but on that last chorus each main character gets their own line over the ensemble as they enter the stage. steve starts, “we all had delusions in our heads,” then nick, “we all had our minds made up for us,” then frankie, “we had to believe in something. so i will,” then andrew “we all had our reasons to be there” then bella, “we all had a thing or two to learn,” then finally jo, “we all needed something to cling to. so we did.” we could talk about how meaningful all of those lines are to each of those characters for hours honestly. and now the whole ensemble begins to join and the chorus only grows, everyone just singing their hearts out as they belt (ELIZABETH’S VOICE WHAT THE ACTUAL f*ck) and they end with a haunting final note “amen.” and that’s the end of act one. holy f*cking sh*t.

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Haven Hotel: That’s Disengagement!

A princess with long black hair walked out from a balcony. She wore a black undershirt with a white bow tie on top. A dark teal shirt, long white pants and white high heel shoes completed the look. Her face was white and teal blushes were present on her cheeks. She was the inverted, antithesis of Charlie, the princess of Hell in a parallel world.

“For all my life, I’ve been taught that all angels have good inside them. But I know that to be a lie. Ever since Lucifer and Lilith, God’s closest angels betrayed Him… I don’t think I can believe in these flawed teachings anymore…”

The princess was Caroline Egnam, born and raised in Heaven…though she was not at all one would expect her to be in such a place. Self-entitled and pessimistic, nothing much could cheer her up except heavy metal music, rebelling against the rules and the occasional brawl.

“It’s inevitable that all those imperfect angels will go to Hell. They deserve to deal with suffering and challenges. Best of all, they wouldn’t be bound by social expectations. Heck, I wouldn’t be too surprised if it were me. I do enjoy my comfortable life here, just not these restrictions.”

Her servants Pub and Chub were fat white cherub angels with horns on their heads, black wings, and black eyes. One held an electric guitar while the other shot out torpedoes from a small cannon.

Outside was a white clock tower standing tall against the blue sky. The numbers read 0 then changed to 365 days. Writing above the numbers read “days until the next cleanse in Hell.”

Caroline leaned against the marble balcony and began to sing in a low growl.

(“I’m Always Evading Shadows”)

“At the end of the journey, there’s suffering

Denying it, how often I’ve tried

But my life’s a disgrace

Just a slap in the face

And the harsh truths have all been denied”

“A sliver of despair in this world of light

I know this world’s not free of sin

I search for the good

But get misunderstood

And reality will always win”

“Why have I always been so imperfect?

Lost in this brainwashed sea

I wonder if the world’s to blame

I wonder if it could be me”

“I’m always evading shadows

Trapped, drowning in the social flow

Free-will forbidden, my answers are hidden

Lying down below”

“Some people sugarcoat their speeches

I always blab out what I mean

I may be cruel but I am no fool

Things are never what they seem

Believe me”

“I’m always evading shadows

Waiting for people to awaken

In vain”

A nearby portal opened and out came the Exterminators, bloodstains over their wings and bodies and harpoons. They took off their creepy LED masks, their white angelic faces revealed. One by one, the citizens clapped and cheered. One of the Archangels with four black wings flew up to the front, his spiked halo glowing. He took off his mask, revealing a white face with yellow eyes and fiery red hair.

“Another successful purge,” their leader Samael praised. “You cleansed more sinners while still keeping the population in a good balance. Well done, all of you.” He cleared his throat and made a cross symbol over his heart. “For the greater good in the name of our Lord.”

The angels repeated the phrase.

“Until next year. Dismissed.” The Archangel soldiers saluted and then flew off separately to see their families.

All around Caroline, Holy City was basked in a heavenly glow. The city was located up in the sky among the clouds, but no one had to worry about falling, even the ones without their wings out. A large church with the appearance of the Notre Dame Cathedral stood proudly in the city square, made of polished marble. Choirs and songs floated through the stained glass windows as the regular angels went in and out to pray and visit with their neighbors. A large fountain sprouted non-alcoholic wine of a golden color. It had a white statue of Mary and Jesus as a young boy at the top, both with welcoming faces.

The streets were spotless and clean. Roofs and roads were powered by the sun’s rays. The Cloud 9 supermarket had endless amounts of food for sale…no one ever had to worry about going hungry. Charity workers and volunteers worked by the dozens, passing out food and bestowing miracles for those who needed them in the lower levels of Heaven.

This version of Heaven was very similar to the Heaven in the realm next door, the one above the familiar Hell with the Hazbin Hotel. Unlike those angels with their blonde hair and red blushes, these angels most often had black hair and teal blushes on their cheeks. Like in the other Heaven, some of the bipedal angels displayed animal-like characteristics: some had heads of doves, others had swan wings and mannerisms. Many of them had fur, ears, and fluffy tails of dogs and wolves. It was the only place where dogs and cats could dance and prance together without conflict. Still a few others had faces of flowers or even objects like harps and musical instruments.

God’s Palace was the grandest place of all: it was settled at the highest point of Heaven like Mount Olympus. Only a few angels were allowed to visit there. Seraph angels with six rainbow wings guarded the throne of God as well as the outside of the palace. There were rumors that in the palace gardens, the Tree of Life and the Tree of Knowledge were grown there, heavily protected.

Lucius and Lilian were Caroline’s parents, those who took the place of Lucifer and Lilith after they were banished. They were named the new king and queen of heaven, thus Caroline became the princess.

Lucius had a white face, teal blushes on his cheeks and short dark hair. Lucius wore a gray suit with a dark blue bow tie and a black top hat with two white features attacked to the brim. Lilian’s hair was long and black, and she, too had the teal blushes and typical angel features. She wore a golden halo crown and an elegant white dress. Both had white wings which could turn black when they were angry or defensive.

Along the street, a red car stopped beside the sidewalk. A tall creature opened the car door and stepped out. The spider angel had a furry dark gray face and body, plus multiple slender arms: six in total. He wore tall boots, green gloves and a shirt with a white bow-tie near the top. His shirt and sleeves had black and dark green stripes. Green dots resembling eyes were located under his eyes.

“Thank you for the ride,” said the spider angel.

“No problem, Devil Grit,” said the driver Travis, a white furry guy wearing a top hat.

Devil walked over to a vending machine and bought himself a granola bar. He then gave it to a homeless guy leaning against the wall.

He walked inside a building and onto a stage in an auditorium. His opponent was already standing nervously at his spot, a microphone rising from the ground and stopping in front of him.

Pentious Senor was the nervous white snake. He had a white face with large slightly teal eyes with white pupils. He wore a white bow tie with a blue circle in the center below his thin neck. Surrounding his face on a flap of skin were bright teal eyes against dark purple. His suit was light gray with dark purple vertical stripes. Finally, he wore a large light gray top hat with a large green eye moving eye in the center.

The crowd settled into their seats and the debate began.

“Those other brave do gooders will do great with helping me with my presentation. Anyone want to try?”

A couple of hands shot up. Mechanical eggs on robotic legs moved around to help out the white snake lord.

Senor pushed a button and a presentation showed up on a screen titled “Heaven Economics and Invention Ideas.”

“I don’t like to fight,” Senor said, “and I’m super nervous up here…”

Devil Grit glared at his cowardly opponent who then yelped, “Don’t look at me like that!”

“Heaven doesn’t need any future technology,” Grit argued, “because we already have better things: friendships, food, and fun.”

Pentious Senor glanced down nervously at his note cards and read from them. “At this rate I will persuade the entire East end of Holy City by night’s beginning. And nothing, not a single beauty in this paradise of bliss, will be able to change my mind or escape the constrictive grasp of persuasive argumentation.”

“Heaven will be ours, though it’s mine in my mind. And everybody will know the name of…”

“Scared Snake,” said a female voice.

“W-who said that?” Senor asked.

“You ready for a debate, old man?”

The voice belonged to Berri Blossom, the opposite of Cherri Bomb in Hell. She was a tall cyclops with black skin, with a single green eye with a black cross in the center. She wore a long dark green dress and white high heeled shoes. Her black skin was decorated in some areas near her shoulders with tiny teal specks. Her long hair was curly, blue at the top and black near the bottom.

She walked over beside her academic partner Devil Grit. “Why don’t you play with your tinker toys somewhere else while I go over the logistics of divine law school?” She looked professional and poised.

“You want to go, madam?” Pentious Senor asked. He flicked his hood back. “Well, let the battle for tenure and status begin!”

A neon logo appeared on the screen, saying “Divine News” surrounded by a halo. The names of the news cast appeared on the bottom of the screen.

“Good afternoon, Holy City!” said a woman with short black hair, wearing a light blue dress. “I’m Catie Carejoy.”

“And I’m Ron Wrench,” said the man next to her, wearing a business suit and who had a wrench for a head.

After discussing the weather, various humane societies, and legends on Earth, Catie continued, “The debate battle is underway between inventor and conservative coward Pentious Senor and professional economics expert Berri Blossom. Coming up next, we have an exclusive interview with the daughter of His Majesty Lucius, who’s here to discuss her brand new passion-project! All that and more after the break!”

Inside the break room, Agatha adjusted Caroline’s white bow tie. Nearby, a blue tinted sign read “No smoking.” Another sign read “In The Air” in large letters.

“Okay, you remember what to say?” Agatha asked Caroline.

“Yes, I’m ready,” Caroline stated.

Agatha brushed her long black hair from her face. Like Vaggie in Hell, Agatha’s thick hair extended down to her legs, giving her hair the appearance of moth wings. She had a green cross over her right eye and her left eye was purple with a white pupil. A teal bow was perched on top of her head. Her skin was dark gray and she wore a dark gray crop top with white xs over her breasts. She also wore leggings, her right legging striped dark green and light gray, her left legging light gray.

“Oh this is gonna be great!” Agatha said happily. “How about you make your speech sound more exciting?”

“Come on, Agatha, I know what I’m going to say,” Caroline answered, crossing her arms.

Agatha walked over to the pitcher of ambrosia punch on the table. Pub and Chub ate bagels from the table. Agatha got an idea. “Oh! What if you…”

“Sing a song about it?” Caroline asked, with a roll of her eyes. “I’m not going to. This is serious!” She curled her hand into a fist and brought it down on the palm of her other hand. “They won’t take me serious if I start belting out some random song. Life isn’t a musical.”

“But neither is it an emo tragedy,” Agatha pointed out. “Life is great, especially with all the cute guys around.” Her single purple eye shinned.

“Romance, bleh,” Caroline made a face and Agatha giggled.

“Hey,” Agatha brightened, pulling out a piece of paper. “I have some ideas about what you could say.” She bounced up and down. “The highlighted bits are the best parts!”

“They’re all highlighted,” Caroline replied, scanning the paper. “You call your childish drawing your ideas for me?”

“Sure!” Agatha said. “Look here.” It showed a list of different terms “sinners = winners” “Misunderstood are still good” and “demons and angels party between worlds!” Skulls were lined up at the bottom of the page: “we’re all connected by death.”

“Say, that’s actually pretty good!” Caroline said with a smile of sharp teeth.

“Thanks!” Agatha beamed.

Caroline snatched the piece of paper from her friend and tore it in half, much to her shock. “But you should know my ideas are always better.” She tossed the pieces of paper aside, gave a salute and walked out the door.

Catie waved with a smile. “Hello, Caroline. I’m Catie Carejoy.” She held out her hand but Caroline didn’t take it. Catie continued, pulling her hand back. “So this project of yours, when did you come up with this idea of creating a hotel in order to…break the law as the rumors say?”

The angel crew murmured nervously.

“I’m gonna keep this short,” Caroline said. “You might think my idea doesn’t hold water, but that doesn’t matter to me. I’m too influential to give a flying feather about what some news lady thinks of my proposal.”

The crowd gasped. Ron shook his head.

“Well, if you can’t take constructive criticism and be polite…”

“…and we’re live!” called a voice as a buzzer sounded.

“And we’re back!” Catie said, rushing over into her seat. “So, Carrie…”

“It’s Princess Caroline Egnam,” said Caroline, sitting in a chair beside her and Ron Wrench.

“Sorry. So tell us about your project.”

Caroline took a deep breath. “As most of you know, I was born here in Heaven, and growing up, I’ve always tried to see the good in everything around me. But recently, I don’t believe that’s always the case. We just completed another Extermination. So many sinful souls lost but for what reason? God said in the Commandments “thou shall not kill,” yet killing random people is okay? If we can’t even trust ourselves with our actions and thoughts, is Heaven truly paradise? Not to mention that ever since Lucifer and Lilith betrayed Him, we don’t know who to really trust. Some people are given too many chances!” She pounded her fist on the desk, startling Catie.

Caroline stood up and made her way forward. “No one is truly flawless. Mistakes are made, but we get blamed for doing things we sometimes enjoy. Sex, drugs, partying, swearing, even violence. All because we don’t live up to standards imposed upon us, both here and on Earth! I can’t stand idly by while the place I live is subjected to such lies and propaganda! So, I’ve been thinking…isn’t there a more liberating way to hinder forced compliance here in Heaven? Perhaps we can create an alternative way to express change through…recreation?”

The angels talked quietly amongst themselves. Aggy nodded in appreciation.

“Well I think yes,” Caroline continued. “So that’s what this project aims to achieve.” She walked back to the desk and sat down. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m opening the first of its kind, a hotel that encourages moderate amounts of so-called sin!” She spread out her arms.

The audience stared in stunned silence. Many of the adults were shaking their heads.

“Who is that girl?” asked a dragon watching from inside a soup kitchen. “What’s her deal with trying to cause more trouble for this world?”

“She’s nuts!” added another angel with an eagle’s head and wings, wearing a suit.

Caroline added nervously, “I figure it would serve a purpose…a place to work toward self-expression. Yay.”

Among the crowd of angels watching the news outside, a tall man with a thin pale brownish face stood toward the back. He wore a light blue dress suit, had blue and white hair, fluffy deer-like ears, and large blue eyes. He watched the program with a look of worry. A deer creature made of light appeared beside him. A sign posted on the wall showing the same man as a DJ read: “Counseling and good times with the Techno Angel!”

A camera man shook his head at Caroline. Agatha walked up to him and said, “Please give her a chance.”

Caroline sighed. “Look, I know every single one of you has insecurities and issues that need not be bottled up. If you could just embrace those sides of yourselves…”

Caroline then smirked. “Maybe I’m not getting through to you.”

Agatha clapped her hands and “ooohed” in excitement as Rub and Chub got the electric guitar ready.

Caroline showed a pair of sharp white teeth and black horns emerged from her head. Black feathery wings sprouted from her back and an X appeared over her right eye. A harpoon appeared in her right hand and blue curved horns emerged from her wavy black hair. She posed over the desk and began.

(“Inside of Every Angel is a Monster”)

“I have a dream

I’m here to tell

About a fantastic mind-blowing hotel

One of a kind, go and yell

A great place to dwell

Catering to specific clientele”

*Guitar starts and scream vocals*

“Inside of every angel is a monster

Inside of every do-gooder is a sinner

Inside of every jolly go-lucky mentality

Is a subconscious portion that’s always dimmer”

“Resist all the rules

You’re not passive fools!

With just a little time

Down at the Hazbin Hotel!”

“So all you rescuers, priests, and heroes

Gifted athletes, jocks, and cheerios

And the sheep citizens, relief is here!

All of you angels, leaders, and stars

Traditionalists with fancy cars

And the activists on Mars

Show no fear

No taboos, no laws

Embrace your flaws

You’ll be truly free

Check in with me

It’s the right path, you’ll see”

“There’ll be no more pressure

And no more status quo

Just friendship, fun, and endless bags of dough

Establishment put to rest

You’ll be like, “Yes!”

Once you check in with me!

“So all your hierarchies, GMOs, politics, and isms

Lectures, labor standards, and diamond studded prisms

Ancient Indian elitisms

All must die”

“All you fantasizers, artists, servers, and lords

Spoiled children, winners of awards

Imposers of chores

Face your fear!”

“Be who you are

And you’ll go so far

Our service will raise the bar

You’ll be the star

Come from near or afar at the Hazbin Hotel!

Yeah!”

“Wow,” said an angel in a top hat. “That was…alright.”

The crowd clapped half-heartedly.

Catie shook her head. “What in the Nine Circles makes you think a single denizen of Heaven would give two feathers about becoming a bad person? You have no proof that your little experiment even works! You want people to disobey God and the rules just…because?!”

Caroline lifted up her head. “Well, we have a patron already who believes in our cause.”

“And who might that be?” Catie asked.

“Oh just someone named…Devil Grit.”

“The grumpy old spider?” asked Ron Wrench.

“He’s not old,” argued Catie. “He just acts older than he is.”

“Anyway,” said Catie to Caroline. “You couldn’t even get that guy to do something bad, even if a gun was pointed at his head.”

“Oh I beg to differ,” Caroline argued. “He’s been troubled, dirty, and having conflicted thoughts for two weeks, now.”

“Breaking news!” called a voice as the screen changed to a recent debate shown in a building.

The news came on, detailing Devil Grit and his recent TED talk about the 7 Heavenly Virtues.

“Well, it looks like the one discussing the Heavenly Virtues is none other than…conservative Devil Grit! What a coincidence!”

She and Ron did a “ratings!” and jazz hands.

“Don’t look at this!” yelled Caroline, waving her arms from behind the screen.

“I’m sorry to say, but it looks like your plan’s departed on arrival,” said Catie. “I hope you learned a good lesson here.”

Caroline’s eyes twitched, her teeth barred. “Lesson?! I’ll teach you a lesson, bitch!” The princess and Catie fought fist and claw on the desk. Ron called for security.

After Caroline was kicked out, Agatha followed her wordlessly to the white limo. Devil Grit, Agatha, and Caroline rode back to the hotel.

Devil Grit lounged in the far seat, wearing an outfit of black with green stripes and green gloves on his four hands.

“Devil,” said Agatha with concern. “I know you were trying to do good by doing your professional speech. But could you please try not to help society in public? Now people won’t believe us when Caroline says that people are free to express their earthly desires.”

“I’m sorry Aggy,” said Devil from the other seat, “But I have a reputation to keep up. Helping the greater good is His plan for all of us. Besides, a good professional debate is a reasonable form of self-expression right?”

“Not to everyone,” said Agatha. “What about the hotel? People are thinking that you don’t care about Caroline’s project at all.”

“I do care, senorita,” said Devil. “I just don’t think it’s going to be easy to accomplish in such a short time. So many angels are fixated on tradition, myself included.”

“I do appreciate all of your help,” said Caroline, still fuming after the interview, arms crossed. “But I will make this project work, even if I have to do it myself.”

The white limo pulled up in front of the hotel, a pristine building made of glass and marble. The group got out of the car and stepped inside.

White wings made of rainbow scales posed as part of the structure on the roof. The stained glass windows by the door were decorated with apples, a tree of life, and many shades of blue and green. The sign above read “Hazbin Hotel” in big letters on the roof. Inside the lobby, a painting of Adam reaching toward God was displayed on the high ceiling. The hotel had seven floors with seven rooms on each floor. There was even a lab down in the basem*nt which belonged to a frog man named Terry, the opposite of the demon fish scientist Baxter from Hell. A bowl of blue berries and blue raspberries sat on a table below a welcome banner. Aggy rested on a couch while Devil Grit munched on a granola bar.

“It’s probably a good idea to stock up some more food in this place,” said Devil Grit. “Good or bad, people always seem to be greedy when they’re hungry.”

Devil Grit pulled out a chart and went over probabilities and graphs regarding the hotel and the potential number of visitors. Caroline just sighed and walked away toward the door. She went outside and took out her cell phone, calling her mom.

“Carol cakes!” called her mother through the phone. Caroline cringed.

“Mom, I told you not to call me that! I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“Sorry, I can’t help it,” said Lilian with a giggle. “How was the interview?”

“Meh. It was alright. I proposed my idea, but nobody seemed to buy it.”

Lilian’s tone turned more serious. “Caroline, why do you insist that everyone must go down to that horrible place? Why can’t you just see the good in people?”

“Because,” Caroline said, “Everyone has flaws and they don’t realize it.”

“Yes, but that also applies to you, too. Before you get involved with the lives of others, you need to look inside and critique yourself.”

“I’m a princess. Everyone else has more flaws than I do.”

Lilian let out a long sigh. “Young lady, we’ve been through this I don’t know how many times. You have to push your selfish thoughts aside and just accept the way things are. It’s part of a higher purpose.”

“And what is this “higher purpose” anyway? To be His flock of dazed sheep, dancing around without any care in the world? To not experience ecstasy and adventure, even for just a moment?”

“That stuff is dangerous and forbidden. Thousands of souls would do anything to get up to this highest level of Heaven. And you just want to throw your afterlife away?”

Caroline paused in thought. “If it means proving myself and serving Him in a way I see fit, then so be it.”

“You have delusions of what entertainment and happiness is, Carol. Sometimes, you need to take the time and appreciate the beauty that’s in front of you.”

“Other than my own refection, I don’t really see beauty in many other things. Well, metal and watching battles…oh and tragic poetry…”

“You have a lot to learn, dear daughter,” Lilian replied. “I’ll leave you alone to think about it.”

“Whatever.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

Caroline hung up and went back inside, shutting the door behind her. She leaned against the door frame, closing her eyes in frustration…trying to hold back a stream of tears.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Two knocks, followed by five fast ones. Caroline got up and turned around to answer it. She swung the stained glass door open. From outside stood a man with a pale face, wearing a light blue pinstriped dress coat. A white upward cross was part of the design on his blue undershirt. He was carrying a modern microphone atop a staff in his left hand. His small antlers were white and his hair and deer ears were blue with white tips. He wore glasses as well. Caroline narrowed her eyes.

“Hi, excuse me…” he spoke quietly. “Is this…”

“f*ck off!” Caroline spat, slamming the door in his face.

She opened it again.

“…the right address?” finished the man.

“No!” she shouted, slamming it again.

“Hey Aggy!” called Caroline.

“What?” her friend asked.

“The crybaby Deer Man is at the door!”

“What?!” she asked, blushes appearing on her cheeks.

“Who?” asked Devil Grit.

“What should I do?”

“Well…let him in!” Aggy said, eye shining.

Caroline rolled her eyes and scoffed. She sighed and opened the door again.

“May I talk now?” the man asked.

“Sure, whatever,” Caroline said.

The man held out his white gloved four-fingered hand and smiled. “Stalaro, it’s a pleasure to meet you, miss.” He walked in. Worry was etched on his face. “I saw your interview on the picture show and I was worried sick! I was afraid you were never coming back after your argument. I haven’t been that upset since the 1929 Stock Market Crash!” He sniffed, “So many orphans…”

“Hello there!” Aggy called with a smile, staring up at him and walking in front of him. “I’m so glad you’re here to help out my friend with this new hotel! I’m a big fan of yours and just being in your presence is just…” She swooned. “Oh just take me already you cute, pompous, talk show, blueberry pimp lord!”

Stalaro gave a nervous laugh, “Dear, I’m mostly into guys but I appreciate the sentiment.” He conjured up a strawberry in his hand and popped it into his mouth.

Aggy deflated a little.

“But if I wanted to take anyone away…they would be gone already.”

Stalaro tilted his head. His blue eyes briefly glowed with blue upside down radio dials in them. Electricity sparked around cyan colored voodoo symbols in the air. His eyes filled with tears, tears spilling down his pale brown cheeks.

Aggy watched in bliss, while Devil and Caroline rolled their eyes at the show-off.

Stalaro shook his head and his eyes returned to normal blue.

“No, I’m here because I want to relax and help out.”

“Say what?” Caroline asked, eyebrow raised.

Stalaro held up his staff which glowed blue. He said with a sad crack in his voice, “Goodbye, is this thing off?”

He tapped it. A blue sad looking eye appeared in the center of the microphone. It spoke in a mechanical voice. “You’re silent, quiet and unclear!”

“That’s your motivation motto every day?” Devil Grit asked, crossing his four arms. “Pathetic!”

“Tragic and mysterious, I love it!” Aggy squealed. “It’s like the opposite of announcing. It’s denouncing.”

“Um…you want to help?” Caroline asked.

Stalaro appeared behind them after morphing into light.

“With…” he spoke in her growl then his normal shy sounding voice, “…this random thing you’re trying to do. This hotel. I want to help you run it, if that’s okay.”

“Uh…why?”

Stalaro choked a bit on his words. “Why doesn’t anyone do anything? Sheer absolute lethargy! I’ve been partying around and keeping busy for decades. I would like to do something more relaxing and easier.”

Aggy wrapped her arms around him in a hug. Stalaro blushed uncomfortably. “Please don’t hurt me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it!”

He gently pulled her off him. “My work became overwhelming, lacking focus. I’ve come to crave a new form of disengagement!”

Caroline rolled her eyes. “Does getting into a fist fight with a reporter count as disengagement?”

“No,” Stalaro said. “It’s violent and messy, not really my thing. Life is truly strange…reality, fantasy, true tragedy. After all the world is a grave, and the grave is a world of disengagement!”

Caroline brightened a bit. “So, does this mean you think it’s possible to taint an angel?”

Stalaro sniffed and held up a hand. “Who knows? Anything’s possible. Sinning, oh the vice of humanity! I think there’s plenty left that can change such do -gooders. But then again, the chance that was given to them was the life they lived before. The reward is this!” He spread out his arms. “According to God, there’s no undoing what is done…or at least that’s the way it should be.”

“So then, why do you want to help me if you don’t fully believe in my cause?” Caroline asked.

Stalaro turned around to look at her. “Consider it an investment in ongoing knowledge for myself and others.” He let out a small smile. “I want to watch the blessed of this world struggle to give into temptation, only to repeatedly realize and raise themselves toward the golden ladder of success!” His eyes glowed blue.

“Right…” Caroline began.

“Yes indeed,” Stalaro said, both of them walking off to the side. “I see you taking risks and who better to keep you grounded than I.”

“Ah, so what’s the deal with Mr. Frown over there?” Devil Grit asked.

“Wait, you’ve never heard of him before?” Aggy asked, blushing. “You’ve been here longer than me!”

Devil shrugged his shoulders.

“The Techno Angel, one of the most complex beings Heaven as ever seen?”

“Eh, not big on certain politics and the arts.”

Aggy sighed and leaned in close to explain.

“Decades ago, Stalaro manifested in Heaven, seemingly in one day. He began to catch the attention of overlords who had kept to themselves for centuries. That kind of attraction and magic power had never been harnessed by a mortal soul before. Then, he broadcast his adventures all throughout heaven just so everyone could experience some joy, tragedy and emotions. Do gooders starting calling him the Techno Angel, (as unoriginal as that is). Many have speculated what unimaginable force enabled him to rival our world’s most ancient and constructive heroes. But one thing’s for sure: he’s an unpredictable source of silliness, a depressed spirit of mystery and a loving being of order…or disorder, the likes of which we can get involved in, especially if we want to end up aroused!”

“You done?” Devil asked. “He looks like a blueberry businessman. Or a shady con-man.”

“Well, I trust him completely!”

“Do you blindly trust any man? All men?”

Aggy skipped over to Caroline. Stalaro examined a family portrait of Lucius, Lilian and a young Caroline in the center. Young Caroline wore a white dress with a turquoise top to it. Her hair was jet black, braided in black barbed wire, her cheeks had teal blushes. Her mother had long black hair and wore a fancy white dress and a round gold crown. Her father was dressed in a dress suit of white and blue, with blue and black stripes in the center below a white bow tie. He wore a large light gray top hat with a dove and a green apple on it. His cane also had a green apple on the top. Both of them were smiling, showing rows of sharp teeth, white wings folded behind them.

“Caroline, listen to me, you can believe this dreamer. He isn’t just a sad face. He’s a miracle maker, pure good! But… don’t count on him to believe in your cause. He could be tainted and rebel, but we don’t know that. He could very well side with God and your parents. And he’s most likely looking for a way to hinder everything we’re trying to do if it means following God’s rules. But still, give him a chance. He’s really sweet.”

“I…” Caroline began. “…we don’t know that. Look, he’s a crying bitch, and he probably doesn’t want to change.”

Aggy put her hands on her friend’s shoulders.

“The whole point of your hotel is to give people a chance! To have faith things will be better and people can embrace their flaws! How can you turn someone away? You can’t. It goes against everything you’re trying to do. Everything you believe in.”

Caroline looked downcast. Her friend had a good point. She hated when people made good arguments against her. But it also gave her a chance to consider her thoughts. Aggy kept her grounded and added some cheer to her overall fake afterlife. Caroline smiled at her.

“You take care of yourself,” she said to Aggy.

“Caroline,” warned Aggy, “Unless you are serious about responsibility, do not make a promise with him!”

Demons often made deals with each other that often resulted in gaining power at the cost of one’s soul or freedom. Usually the one who initiated the deal would gain advantage. A demonic deal was bad in and of itself. Breaking an angelic promise could result in rejection, eternal torture and damnation.

“Don’t worry,” said Caroline. “I learned one thing from my dad.” She mimicked his low voice, “Ya don’t break trust with other angels!”

Caroline marched over to the Techno Angel.

“Ok…so Stal... You’re prissy as f*ck, and you clearly see what I’m trying to do here is a too-dangerous risk. But I don’t.”

Glowing blue symbols briefly appeared around a concerned Stalaro, then vanished.

Caroline continued. “I think everyone deserves a chance to prove they can be flawed. After all, it’s in their nature and the sooner they realize it, the better. So, I’m taking your offer to help. On the condition there be no lessons or lovey-dovey speeches made.”

Stalaro twirled his cane and held out his smallest finger from his right hand.

“So, it’s a promise, then?”

The room was surrounded by a pink aura as light spirits roamed around the walls. The wind blew against Aggy’s and Devil’s faces.

“Nope!” Caroline yelled, holding out her hands. The energy stopped. “No shaking, no promises! I…hmmm…”

She paused in thought.

“As Princess of Heaven and heir to the throne, I hereby order that you help out with this hotel for as long as you desire.”

A moment of pause…

“Sound fair?”

“Fair enough,” Stalaro said with a slump of his shoulders and walked on. His cane vanished. Caroline did a thumbs up.

Stalaro stopped and spotted Aggy to the side.

Aggy went up and tickled him under the chin, much to his dislike.

He pushed her arm gently away. “Frown, my dear. You’d be too fully dressed if you were a man.”

He walked on, Aggy perplexed at being rejected. “Why does he have to be gay?” she mused, sadly. “Liking nude men…oh I could just swear right now…darn.”

“So…where is your hotel staff?” Stalaro asked Caroline.

“Uh well,” Caroline began. Stalaro peered at Aggy through his monocle below his left eye.

He stuttered. “You’re going to n-need more than that.”

Stalaro walked over to Devil Grit, who was sitting on a stool.

“And what can I do, my business fellow?” asked Stalaro walking over to the dark furred spider, blushing.

“You can suck a dick,” Devil retorted in a grumpy tone.

“AH! Ok,” said Stalaro, blushing and stepping back. “Can it be yours?”

“f*ck off,” Devil added, pulling out a long knife from his belt.

Stalaro summoned his cane. “Well this just won’t do. You want others to cause trouble, yes? I suppose I can cash in a few favors to deaden things up!”

He snapped his fingers and the wall beside the fireplace cracked. The circle went dark, the fire going out. Ice cold water appeared to fill in the circle and a shadowy figure solely formed inside. Stalaro walked over and removed the dripping figure from the water. A large single purple eye was revealed.

Devil, Aggy and Caroline peered at the creature. With a balloon deflating sound and a puff of white smoke, the figure was revealed.

“This little sinner is Klutzy!” Stalaro announced with a worried smile, dropping the figure.

A black-skinned short cyclops female landed on her face on the floor. She stood up with a grumpy look on her face. She wore a dark green skirt with a white stray cat off to the left side. Her arms and legs were white and stick-shaped. Several blue dots stood out from the lighter green color of her skirt. Her shirt was black with cyan paint spots off to the right. Her large eye took up much of her face; it was purple with a white pupil. Her sharp teeth were black. Her short hair was teal with a dark blue spot off to the left.

“I’m Klutzy,” she grumbled, clenching her fists. “It’s a waste of time to meet you fools. It’s been a while since I made new rivals.”

Her pupil narrowed from side to side.

“Why are you all men?” she asked. “Have any women here? Or video games? Screw this place.”

She briefly picked up Caroline, then let go.

“Oh man, this place is boring!” she exclaimed. She ran over to a vase and proceeded to knock it over with her elbow. It shattered to pieces on the floor. She tossed couch cushions aside.

“It really needs a more manly touch, disorganized clutter’s more fun.” She grinned as she poured dirt from a flower pot onto the rug.

“Yes, yes, yep, yeah!” she yelled as she proceeded to break windows and knock down more stuff. Then she plopped down on a couch once the room was messy. “I’m bored. Make me some food or something.”

Aggy, Devil, and Caroline looked on in worry, Stalaro just stared off into space.

A cat angel was working on a Rubik’s cube with colleagues. His furry face was black, framed by white fur. His little top hat was white with a blue band across it. A big teal bow tie was under his neck, over his black furry chest framed by white fur. His wings were a brilliant blue, with black and red mathematical symbols on either side: the pi symbol, E = mc squared, signs for addition, subtraction, multiplication and division, among others. More symbols were visible within his two pointed ears. His teeth were sharp and purple and his long eyebrows were teal. His eyes were purple and sclera white. The angel placed a Rubik’s cube in front of him. “Ha!” he declared in triumph. Read ‘em and weep, boys! Full…whoa…”

He felt himself being transported in a flash of light to the hotel. Part of the science room that the cat had been in was merged with the hotel lobby…posters of the elements, the solar system and Biblical works of art.

“What in Heaven’s name is going on?

Then he brightened when he saw Stalaro. “You!”

“Ah, Core, my old friend,” Stalaro sniffed, his head briefly looking like it was in between antlers from a stuffed deer head on the wall. “You made it.”

“Glad to see you, you son of the sun!” Core said. “I just completed my Rubik’s cube after just an hour.”

The cube vanished as Stalaro looked on.

Core raced over to Stalaro and embraced him in a side hug. The deer-like man blushed. “So, what can I help you with this time?”

Stalaro blinked nervously. “C-Can we snuggle?”

Core laughed. “I mean, seriously, why’d you bring me here?”

“My friend, I’m doing some dirty work, so I took it upon myself to volunteer your services. If that’s okay?”

“You must be joking,” Core said, laughing nervously.

“I don’t think so, motherf*cker!” Stalaro replied.

“You thought it’d be a great idea just to pull me out of nowhere? You think I’m some kind of tragic boy?”

“Maybe,” Stalaro sighed, as crying sounds came from his microphone.

“I ain’t doing no dirty work.”

Stalaro appeared behind him. “Well I figured you would be the perfect face to greet and critique the guests at this fine establishment.”

He pointed his staff off toward a stand with vegetable drinks as claps and boos sounded from his staff.

“With your grumpy cat face and love of solitude…”

Core lifted up the corners of Stalaro’s mouth with his paws. “Aw come on, Stal. Don’t forget to smile once in a while!”

His mouth frowned once he let go.

Stalaro walked over to the stand. “Don’t worry, my friend. I can make this more interesting…if you wish.”

He conjured up a bottle of catnip with his finger.

Core stared with wide happy eyes. “What, you think you can buy me with sad eyes and some cheap catnip? Well, you can!” He purred and took the bottle with him.

Caroline, Devil, and Aggy arrived.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Aggy squealed. “Brilliant idea to have healthy drinks!”

“No!” Caroline protested. “This is supposed to be a place that encourages sin! No some kind of, frilly, Zen, child’s play…”

Devil rammed into Caroline. “Shut up! Shut up! We are keeping this!” He pointed all his fingers toward Core and the stand.

Core noticed Devil Grit and slid up to him. “Hey cutie,” he flirted.

“Go screw yourself,” muttered Devil Grit.

“Only if you watch me,” Core joked. “Or more likely, Stalaro will watch you.”

Caroline leaned in close to Core. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel. You are going to go insane here!” She grinned, her teeth sharp.

“I lost the ability to go crazy years ago,” Core replied, sniffing the catnip.

Stalaro walked in, an ever-present frown on his face. “S-so, what do you think?”

Caroline ran over to him. “This is horrible!” she spat.

“It’s amazing!” Aggy beamed.

Aggy leaned in close between Caroline and Stalaro, embracing them in a hug.

“This is going to be very disengaging,” Stalaro exclaimed. Dubstep sounds emitted from his mouth as he stared around with worry. He stepped away from Aggy. “Caroline, I can’t lose you. We can’t lose you.”

Stalaro changed his light blue suit into a black funeral outfit. He did the same with Caroline, Devil, Husk, Klutzy, and Aggy, who were all wearing black clothing from the early 1900s. The room changed, the walls now covered with Voodoo symbols, Christian crosses and deer antlers.

“Take it boys,” Stalaro said. Light spirits appeared and played violins, a piano, and a flute in a sad symphony.

Stalaro sang his reprise to Caroline.

(“Stalaro’s lament Reprise”)

“You’re on a mission

Your innocence fell

And it’s so dangerous but hey, I wish you well

Yes your blunt protests

Will send you straight to Hell

And I can’t bear to see you banished, or your soul up to sell”

“Don’t bring your afterlife to an end

No matter what you say, I’m still your friend

We all have our wounds to mend

And you’re vulnerable feelings are real, don’t pretend”

“Inside of every angel is love and emotion

They have values and lasting devotion (devotion to God)

While you recruit those around

Don’t be swallowed by the ground

The authorities can retrieve you tight and bound (no turning around)”

“Here above the sky

Spread your wings and fly

They’ll spend a little time

Down at this Haven Ho…”

An explosion rattled the windows. Klutzy saw a door flying toward her face and she broke it in half with a karate chop.

The room and everyone’s clothing returned to normal.

Everyone looked outside and saw a podium in the air, held up by flying metallic eggs. A familiar snake debater appeared.

“Look who it is harboring the striped annoying opponent! We meet again, Stalaro!”

“Do I know you?” Stalaro asked.

Tears came to Senor’s eyes. “Oh yes, you do! Watch this presentation!”

The eggs danced in the air, singing a song about Senor trying his best to rule Heaven. He read from notecards. “You all can’t compete with me. Your hotel sucks. I…shall…destroy it…with… my…”

Stalaro giggled and blushed.

Senor looked up from his cards in anger. “Not like that, pervert!”

Stalaro snapped his fingers. A portal appeared and white tentacles shot out, knocking the podium off balance. The metal eggs knocked into Pentious Senor and he yelled, “Ow that hurt! Show mercy!”

Stalaro used a drop of his blood and the podium exploded in green smoke.

Senor emerged from the crater, arm shaking, fangs shattered.

“Shoot me with your ray gun,” said a metal egg beside him. Senor face-planted on the ground.

Stalaro looked on, sadly while everyone else stared, stunned.

“Anyone hungry?” Stalaro asked turning around. “Please don’t make me cook jambalaya. It’s way too spicy and it nearly killed me! I much prefer tea and sugared strawberries, oh the way they melt in my mouth… but anyway, you could say the kick brought me straight into Heaven.”

Stalaro lead the way back to the hotel, the group following him.

“Yes sir, new changes are about to take place. Now…”

Stalaro waved his finger at the lit up sign above the glass, gem-encrusted building on the roof.

The sign changed from “Hazbin Hotel” to “Haven Hotel.”

“Stay tuned.” He finished with low whimpers.

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Pony Religions

For some time now I've seen humanized Fluttershy with a hijab, a piece of clothing worn by some Muslim women, which means that Fluttershy is Muslim. I got to thinking, how would human religions exist in MLP, and since the ponies have a monarchy that defines the Alicorn Sisters as deities, how could Equestria still reconigze their status/authority and have differing religions with other gods?

Well... Cadence is the Princess of Love... The elements are avatars of Harmony... Discord is the Lord of Chaos... So that would mean?

Yup! Real world gods and mythologies would translate into Cosmic Forces in the Ponyverse. An example of these forces are Love, Harmony, and Chaos. Pinkie Pie herself comes from a long line of traditionalist earth ponies similar to American Amish, called Ponies of the Plains/Plain Ponies, that believe in Providence, and Pinkie still holds this belief.

Providence notes itself as the will of fate and ponies it's creation, made to toil and be nature's guards. Providence is believed to be a single being that exists both for all-time and simultaneously as a communion of Will, Nature, and Fate. Will represents want, Nature acts as one's character, and Fate is the evitable future. Together, these are the trinity that form the single Providence.

Plain Ponies opt to live without modern technology and comforts. Plain Ponies put emphasis on labor, humbleness, discipline, duty, dignity and family. They believe Providence crafted earth ponies to be the strongest of the three pony races, the workers of their species, and the guardians of nature. Providence forged them divinely to maintain the ancient lifestyle of the old pony clans.

The Apple family too are followers of Providence, but are not Plain Ponies, as the way a creature worships one force differs just like reality. The Apples think themselves designed by Providence as sturdy laborers/nature(with a lower n)'s guardians, but don't spurn the modern luxuries. Apples put more strength in family, duty, pride and one's personal want/will.

Submission is where Providence differentiates, similar to Muslims and Christians. Submission is a different type of Providence. Submission is the force of surrendering to destiny, whatever it may be. Followers of Submission, "Submitters", believe solely in Submission and it's oneness. They don't think Providence is a three-in-one and regards the notion distastefully. They believe that the other forces are simply distorted and/or changed or corrupted works of Submission. Submitters put their lives in the hands of their force, and pray to it daily before any event. Submission makes no mistake; it is whole, it is one. Submitters disregard Will and Nature, thinking them mortal, not divine instruments of Submission. Submitters believe whole-heartedly in Submission; their own character or own wants are not to be put higher than what Submission demands their destiny as... That might sound cruel or unfair, but Submitters are happy to put their life in its path.

Fluttershy and her family are followers of Submission. Despite the budging differences between Providence and Submission, Submission still praises Providence's creatures for believing in Fate, while some old Providence prophets claim that Submitters are not worthy of any of Providence's gifts because they don't care for Will and Nature.

Dash is a lax atheist in Harmonyverse canon.

The believers of Order follow general guidelines. Their relationship with Order is deeply personal. Orderers think that Order is a solitary, unified Force-- the one and only Force-- and that it is concerned with the actions of Ponykind. Orderers have everyday, private experiences with Order, interpretating things like a draft or a stream of sunlight as a sign from Order. Ordinary, common occurences is how Order's manifests, and Orderers thank It for the very fact that they are alive this day, and for the day's existence. Order is thought to be concerned with daily conduct, being kind and showing mercy, not shedding blood, and not commiting acts like adultery and idolatry. Orderers follow that any Orderer's experience brings them closer to Order. Twilight and her family are followers of this Force.

Rarity believes strongly in Mercy, another form of Providence. To the Mercies, the cosmic force they worship is considered the first Providence. Mercies believe Providence to be an aged document of Mercy, and the ones that follow it instead practice the very first teachings to the letter. Mercies are compassionate by nature, always ready to help. Princess Celestia, and later Twilight, are viewed as an avatar of Mercy by It's followers.

Some creatures pray to Magic itself, channeling It's power through incantations and using the boost to create potions and cast spells. Zecora is one of these creatures. They are considered witches and wizards.

Treehugger practices Freedom, the act that her life is her own, her choices are her own, and nothing is set in stone. There's no grand plan for Freedom's friends, there's simply life and the promise of free will.

There can be some bad blood between the believers of all the different forces, but the Mane 6 respects and celebrates their differences, encouraging others to do the same.

Love is a force closer to Chaos that Princess Mi Amor Cadenza managed to master, despite its mysteries and power.

Discord isn't truly the embodient of Chaos itself; it's more of a title than anything. Rather he was born with a distinct, strong connection to the Force and began work as It's sentient, willing vessel after he became the last of his species. It's not weird for draconequi to be born with a natural link to a Force's magic/abilties; it is, in fact, what they were made for.

Every draconequi was born as an instrument as a different Force; so many exist, big and small, that none ever was repeated. Chaos was the last to birth a vessel (Discord). The species can only exist by being its birth Force's servant, but they eventually died out because they couldn't produce due to no more forces being available to craft a magic-born dracub. (All draconequi were born to virgins as only a Cosmic Force could create one of their kind).

Now Discord is the last draconequus, thanks to Chaos giving in and pouring powerful, erratic magics into cub Discord so the lone boy could survive. This is how he's immortal.

That took place before the Forces had other sentient vessels; draconequi were the first species to exist, and it would be a long time until the planet where ponies exist formed. (Earth = Aeroth, Aerth? Idk something punny)

Harmony is f*cking complicated. Harmony is a force all by itself, but it has halves; the respective forces of Order and Chaos. This is where the Elements of Harmony are finally mentioned. The Elements make up Order or Chaos. Chaos is Laughter, Magic, and Honesty. Order is Kindness, Loyalty, and Generosity. You need that all to create Harmony.

As Discord and to some extent Cadence represent Chaos, Celestia and Luna were chosen to be barriers of Order. Like anything, too much Order can be reckless without a place for Chaos and their love-child Harmony, so Luna fell victim to the dreamwalker that corrupted her into Nightmare Moon, a violent instrument of Order. Twilight Sparkle became a vessel of Harmony (a more correct title would be a Lady of Harmony, not the Princess of Friendship) and was born with the tie to Magic like Discord, eventually ascending into Magic's high prophet, thus becoming an alicorn when Harmony deemed her worthy of being their immortal priestess.

The Mane 6 were all born with that connection to their Forces. They were chosen a long time ago, before their ancestors existed. All it took was the return of a crueler show of Order to make them realize their destinies.

The first born of the six, Fluttershy, is the shy servant of Kindness; Kindness gifted the timid pegasus the ability to communicate with animals and is responsible for Fluttershy's secret weapon, the Stare. (Trigger for sexual abuse ahead) Kindness also once saved filly Fluttershy, who had fallen from Cloudsdale and was badly injured, from being raped, calling upon woodland creatures to attack the stallion.

Twilight Sparkle would be the next component to come into existence; Magic manifested itself in boosting Twi's power, skillset, intelligence, and magical strength.

Rarity is Generosity's maiden. Generosity gave Rarity confidence in herself, creativity, an eye for detail, the power of influence, and the power to sense gems.

Pinkie Pie is Laughter's self-proclaimed lackey. Pinkie somehow has a tighter bond with Laughter, so much so that she can call upon Chaos to do the things that Pinkie does, like store things in her mane or take objects out of nowhere. Laughter is to thank for Pinkie Sense.

Applejack is Honesty's enforcer, and her being an element of Order shows in her being the den-mother of Sweet Apple Acres and often a voice of reason. Honesty's gift to AJ was super strength and endurance.

Loyalty got the co*cky showboat Rainbow Dash as It's representative. Thanks to Loyalty, Dash acquired supersonic flight, the flashy Sonic Rainboom, and a specialty for manipluating weather.

No Force is inherently good or bad. It's up to the interpretation of creatures, but none Force is just a power for either villains or heroes. Forces don't discriminate, and it is not their choice if one uses their power for what others would deem villainous. A Force's only job is to answer to the call of any creature, no matter what.

And that's how sh*t works, yo. This Force stuff is really interesting to me, and it was fun and f*cking hard researching so many different religions to craft them into MLP sh*t. Human Twi is Jewish, Human Pinkie comes from American Amish, Human Applejack is Christain, Human Rarity is Roman Catholic, Human Fluttershy is Muslim, and Dash is an atheist either way. Human witches and wizards (like Zecora, Sunburst, and Starswirl the Bearded) are Wiccan. Human Treehugger is just... a hippie, and Cadence is a worshipper of Aphrodite.

I hope this translating real religions into a world of talking pastel ponies doesn't offend anyone lol ✌️ don't use this headcanon in your own works without asking. The Plain Ponies thing and the Order/Chaos making up Harmony comes from Lopoddity on DeviantArt, she said I could use for my own verse. For more Harmonyverse, check out my DeviantArt GAYSWILLRULE.

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a change of pace: new year’s celebrations

i can finally rest.... this is the last piece of sylvgrid i’ll write for the next few months to come

it’s been a crazy run (I have never written so much since high school) and every second has been enjoyable

reconnecting and making new friends @shining-jul-of-hope and @nicolewrites to die on the new sylvgrid hill :). i might not be writing or as active, but i’ll definitelybe reading!!

ao3

summary:on the brink of the New Year, Ingrid recounts the friendships she's made and the ones maintained.during the actual countdown, she thinks of something else.

-

It is about five o’clock in the evening on New Year’s Eve, but that didn’t stop Sylvain from bringing out the alcohol and board games. Currently, there’s a rather large gathering around the dining table to watch,apparently, the most intense game of Monopoly to date. Hilda and Marianne stand behind Claude, looking over his shoulder and counting the amount of properties he owned. Meanwhile, Annette is pulling on Felix’s arm as sheverballycounts out loud how many properties and railroadsSylvainowns as he casually waves off her concerns, gesturing for Petra to roll the dice, Ashe sitting to her right explaining the rules. Once she does, the sounds of simultaneous glee and frustrated groans erupt immediately after, several hands reaching for their drinks, grumbling as they took more shots.

Ingrid snorts into her drink as she watches Sylvain and Claude exchange high-fives across the table, while Petra holds up a handful of rainbow paper in confusion with Ashe frantically trying to explain the different values of money.

She mutters to herself, “those two should never be allowed to play boardgames together…”

She’s just about to take another sip when a warm arm wraps around her waist and a teasing voice singsongs into her ear, “Ooh, Ingie! Scoping out which boy you’d like to smooch tonight?”

Ingrid chokes and almost spits out her drink.

Thankfully, Dorothea waves off any worried glances sent their way with a wink, patting Ingrid’s back not-so apologetically as she tries to catch her breath.

Face red and still coughing, Ingrid glares at the innocent smile on her friend’s face. “That isnotwhat I’m doing.”

Dorothea sighs dramatically and slides into the stool next to her, resting her elbows on the countertop. “Pity. I’m sure one of them would’ve enjoyed that.”

Despite not drinking anything, Ingrid almost chokes again. Her mind briefly flashes to the jade pendant in her room before she violently pushes the thought away, hoping,praying, the sudden heat on her cheeks is passable for alcohol. She whips her head over to friend, eyes narrowing. “What do you mean by that?”

The mock-forlorn expression on Dorothea’s face melts into one of mischief. “Oh, Ingie. I’m not one to spill other people’s secrets.” She wiggles her fingers at her, the blue gemstone of her ring sparkling under the kitchen lights. Dorothea winks again. “Besides, you know I’d much rather keep you to myself.”

Ingrid sighs, exasperated, but smiles anyway. She sips at her drink carefully,notwanting a repeat performance of earlier. “Well,all of that aside,I’m glad you like the ring enough to wear it often. I’m not very good at picking out jewelry… but I really wanted to thank you. You saved me from a huge headache.”

Justthinkingabout that disastrous blind date from last year makes her nauseous. At her father’s request, she’d agreed to meet with a potential business partner, interested in bailing out her father’s company and taking over production costs. These requests had steadily streamed in after… Glenn’s accident, so it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, nor anything she couldn’t handle on her own.

So, she went to the meeting alone.

It’d been some distance away from Garreg Mach, closer to Mittelfrank Opera House, and a corner of her mind began sending her warning signals. She stood across the street from the appointed address, and she just couldn’t shake the feeling thatsomethingwas wrong. Then, a slim arm looped around hers andtugged, a sweet voice gasping,loudandabrasive, “Oh,Ingrid! This is where you were? You should’ve told me you got lost! I would’ve escorted you myself!”

And suddenly, she and this mystery brunette were flying down the street and she was thrust through the doors of the opera house. Ingrid was still busy trying to catch her breath and figure outhowthis girl new her name andwhythat gut feeling of hers disappeared.

The doors slammed shut and Ingrid flinched. She looked up, the other girl dusting off her clothes and rearranging her skirt.She looked vaguely familiar…Before she could voice her thoughts, the other girl made eye contact and smiled. “Well, Ingie, I’d say we dodged a huge bullet there. Perhaps, literally.”

Several thoughts ran through Ingrid’s mine, but the first one that came out was, “Ingie?”

She received a coy smile in response. “Ingrid Galatea, right? Sylvain’s friend?”

Ingrid’s head swirled even more. “How do you know Sylvain? Wait, don’t answer that—”

At that, the other girl threw her head back and laughed, so freely, that Ingrid wondered what she’d said. She watched as the other gleefully wiped tears from her eyes, smile wide on her face. “Oh, Ingrid. Sylvain is cute, but…” she winks, and Ingrid feels herself flush. “He’s not my type.”

Seeing her confusion, the other girl’s playful smile turned gentle. “In all seriousness, we worked part-time jobs together. He comes to the opera house now and then to help out and relax. He talks about you all the time”

After a few more moments of silence, Ingrid finally forced out the questions she meant to ask. “Who are you? And why did you bring me here?”

A mixed expression flashed over her face, but it’s not there long enough for Ingrid to recognize. “I’m Dorothea Arnault. I’m actually in the year above you, which is probably why you haven’t seen me around before… and as a Blue Lions’ kid, I doubt you’ve been around the Black Eagles dorms very often. As for bringing you here…”

Ingrid felt a sudden chill as Dorothea’s eyes turned hard. “Let’s just say that scumbag businessman you were going to meet? The only thing he has to his name is blood money.”

She freezes. “What?”

Dorothea scowled and crossed her arms. “He’s a frequent visitor to the opera house, donating this or that. Our company looked him up and we’ve banned him for life.”

“How did you know where I was going?”

Dorothea sighed heavily. “The opera house may have banned him, but we don’t have the power to remove someone from the city. That building you were going to? That’s his base of operations. He’s got this whole region wrapped around his pinky with blackmail.”

Ingrid shifted uncomfortably, dread settling in her stomach with this new information.She was going to have to write her father back.Another thought popped into her head. “I might be Sylvain’s friend, but you’ve never met me before. How did you know it was me?”

Dorothea laughed again, shaking her head. “Ingie, Sylvain paints averyvivid picture of the best friend who cleans up after him.”

Ingrid couldn’t help but scoff and roll her eyes, muttering, “Sylvain…”

Dorothea walked to her side and held out her hand. “As insufferable as he is, he does care. He’d cover my shifts so I could come back here to perform. So… any friend of his, is a friend of mine.”

Ingrid felt the corner of her mouth lift and took the proffered hand. “He does have his redeeming qualities, doesn’t he?”

Dorothea laughed again and linked their arms together. “That he does. Speaking of performances, we have one in a few hours. How would you like to stay and help? As athank youto your lovely savior?”

Ingrid flustered. “Well, I’m not much of a performer—”

“Then how about you stay and watch? I’ll even give you a make-over, free of charge.”

“I thought you said this wasmy‘thank you’ to you?”

Dorothea winked and bowed dramatically, and Ingrid realized exactly why Sylvain and Dorothea were friends. “And it would be such agiftto dress you, Miss Galatea.”

Ingrid wasn’t able to get many other words in edgewise, as Dorothea pushed her to the dressing rooms and threw her a slew of dresses to try on. A few weeks later, Ingrid nervously entered the Black Eagles dormitory for the first time and handed off a little black box to Dorothea. “I know this isn’t much and I’m not the best at picking gifts—”

She was promptly pounced upon after her new friend saw the glittering blue gemstone set in a simple band. She received an exaggerated, wet kiss on her cheek. “Oh,Ingie! You shouldn’t have!”

Ingrid laughed as Dorothea’s hold on her grew tighter. “You’re right. Maybe I shouldn’t have, if it’s going to give you the wrong ideas.”

Dorothea pulled back and smiled innocently. “Me?Never.”

Ever since then, she and Dorothea had met up regularly. She would always run by her father’s requests with her and they would go on the occasional shopping trips where Dorothea urged her to try onfartoo many clothes out of her comfort zone.

But even then, Ingrid appreciates it. Having grown up with brothers and havingthreeadditional headaches to monitor in the form of her childhood friends… it’s nice to be taken care of for the things she never cared about before.

Then, Dorothea reaches over and swipes her drink, finishing it off in one go, breaking her out of her reverie. Ingrid raises her eyebrows, growing apprehensive.Dorothea only ever pulls a stunt like that when she’s ready to talk her into something she will wholeheartedly not agree with.“…What are you plotting now, Thea?”

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Dorothea grins. “How about a little make-over?”

Four hours later, Ingrid now sits in her bathroom, fidgeting in a gauzy mint dress, as Dorothea adds another layer of eyeshadow. “Dorothea… is all of this really necessary?”

“Ingrid! Tonight’s a special occasion! Didn’t you say you would dress up for special occasions?”

She wrinkles her nose as Dorothea brushes over it with blush. “I’ve celebrated New Year’s with everyone before and I’ve never dressed up.”

Dorothea sighs and sets down her brushes with a clatter, and Ingrid takes this as her cue to open her eyes. She’s slightly taken aback at her reflection, gold glittering on her eyelids, cheeks rosy, lips glossed… She gulps. “Dorothea… what are you getting at with all of this?”

Her friend sighs again and sets her hands on her shoulders, resting her chin on top of Ingrid’s head. “Ingrid, were youreallynot scoping out a boy to smooch tonight?”

She splutters, “W-what? No! What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, some of Fódlan folklore says the first person you meet on New Year’s and how you meet them, determines the rest of your year. And akissis for strengthening ties you want to maintain in the future.”

Ingrid’s face is impossibly hot and she wonders how strong the alcohol Sylvain bought really was… “W-what’s your point?”

“Not thinking about Claude or Sylvain?”

The heat in her face instantaneously spreads to the rest of her body and she physically bats away a laughing Dorothea. “No! Dorothea, why would you say that?”

Her friend shrugs, sly smile on her face. “No particular reason, just curious. You seemed so amused looking in their direction. I just wanted to knowwhichof the two you were looking at.”

Ingrid stares at her friend in mortification, but only receives a wink in response. “Or maybe… both?”

Ingrid shoots up from her stool and covers her face, only to have her hands wrenched away. “Your make-up, Ingrid! Don’t smudge it!”

“Dorothea!”

Taking pity, Dorothea sighs and sits Ingrid back down, gently smoothing down her hair. “Relax, Ingie. I’m only teasing… mostly.”

Still burning in embarrassment, Ingrid mutters, “I was looking at them because I was thinking how they should never be allowed to play boardgames together… They’re going to drink everyone under the table at this rate.”

Dorothea snorts and begins to rifle through Ingrid’s jewelry collection. Her eyes land a new white box and she opens it. “Ingrid, when did you get this pendant?”

Ingrid’s eyes dart to the piece in question. “Oh. Sylvain bought that in Sreng for me as my Christmas present.”

Dorothea hums noncommittedly as she fishes out a delicate silver chain from her own jewelry box. She threads it through the pendant and places it around Ingrid’s neck, fastening the clasp.

Ingrid’s eyes widen. “Thea, isn’t this your chain—?”

“Hmm, think of it as a gift. You gave me a ring, and I’ll give you a necklace chain.”

Ingrid’s fingers hover over the jade pendant and Dorothea smiles at her in the mirror. “Pretty, isn’t it?”

Reminded me of you.

For the third time today, Ingrid feels herself flush.

Ingrid is two drinks into the night when she finally finds Sylvain leaning against the far wall of the living room, nursing a near empty cup with a similarly empty expression on his face. She joins him, shoulders brushing, only slightly worried when he didn’t so much as look in her direction. She purses her lips. “What, lose all that hard-earned money from Monopoly today?”

Sylvain blinks and his eyes adjust to her. He’s silent for a few more moments, studying her. Then, he laughs and shakes his head. “Well, you know Claude.”

She knocks his elbow with hers. “I also knowyou.”

He snorts. “That you do.” Then, “is that the necklace?”

Her stomach lurches suddenly and she forces herself to nod. “Yeah, it is. Dorothea gave me the chain for it.”

Sylvain is silent again, before the corner of his lips curl up. “It’s pretty. You look nice, Ingrid.”

There’s a blush burning on her cheeks yet again, and another that starts in the center of her chest. She swallows hard, their conversation on Christmas Eve pushing to the forefront of her mind. Of the words she didn’t say out loud. “Hey, Sylvain?”

“Hm?” His head rolls toward her, lazy smile on his face. The countdown to the New Year fades into the background and Ingrid never realized how golden his eyes could get. She drops her head to his shoulder abruptly, heat shooting down her spine.She’sdefinitelyhad one too many drinks.

“Ing?”

His hand is hovering over hers, and before she can overthink it, she grabs it and squeezes. She swallows the lump in her throat, trying not to think about the heat of his palm and howrightit feels with his fingers slotted between hers. She forces herself to meet his gaze again. “I’m glad you’re home.”

She can hear Annette and Ashe scream, “Happy New Year!” from the other side of the room, but she’s focused on the pink in Sylvain’s cheeks and wonders if it’s from the alcohol he brought. A tight squeeze of her hand brings her eyes back to his. Somehow, the gold in his eyes melts even further and she’s lost.Solost, as her mouth dries when that small smile, just for her, grows on his lips. “Me too.”

And maybe not for the first time, if she’s honest with herself, Ingrid wonders what it would be like to kiss her best friend with the secret sunshine smile.

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