#and next thing you know she's been found dead. killed herself by slashing her own throat open.

[unionizedwizard]

man. i just had the single most emotionally scarring dream ever. and this is coming from someone who only ever has nightmares and awful stress dreams. what the fuck

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Darkness Declares Glory | Chapter 9 | S.R

Previous Chapter

A/N - this fic deals with some very dark themes such as drug use, self-harm and suicidal ideation. Please proceed with caution and Minors DNI. There is a reader insert but it is very Spencer-centric.

Chapter Summary - George offers Spencer some words of advice as they grow closer. A familiar face from his past surfaces but things don’t go as Spencer anticipated.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | eventual happy ending.

Warnings - Spencer’s wrongly directed anger, suicidal thoughts, past drug addiction, flirty nurse, aggression, threatening behaviour, mentions of bisexual Spencer, tears, suicidal ideation, Garcia’s flashback, vomit.

WC - 4.9k

Chapter 9 - Don't You Dare Forget the Sun

He had a long time to think about Maggie’s words as he was left alone for the rest of the day. His only interaction came in the form of an orderly bringing his lunch and then later dinner. 

He wasn’t sure if it was in protest or just not being hungry, but Spencer didn’t eat a thing. Instead he slowly pulled apart his food and made a game out of throwing it at the wall. He enjoyed the mess it made. 

Once the sun had gone down he slipped out of bed and hopped to the desk before opening his journal. He stared at the next blank page for some time, but when he did start writing, the words flowed. 

I’ll never forgive her for this. I’ll never be able to look at her the same. It’s her fault I’m here, she made the call, she got the judge to sign the preventive confinement order. 

I hate her for doing this to me. I hate all of them for doing this to me. It’s doing more harm than good, I can feel it…I can feel it slowly destroying me. 

If I can’t get my hands on those drugs I will find a way to kill myself. I’ll think of something…I’ll formulate a plan one way or another. It’s drugs or death. 

If she’s gotten her hands on this it’s because I couldn’t get the drugs and I’m already dead. And I hope she knows this is all her fucking fault. I hope she takes the guilt to her own grave.

In putting me in here, she basically signed my death warrant. So I hope for as long as she lives, she hates herself for what she’s done. I hope it’s her that has to explain to Henry and Michael and little Hank why Uncle Spencer isn’t around anymore. 

I hope it’s her that has to tell my mom what happened to me, explain all the grisly details of how they found me with my throat slashed or hanging from the rafters from a noose I made out of bed sheets. 

I hope the team falls apart. I hope every single one of them carry my death on their shoulders for the rest of their days. 

I hope if you’re reading this, you know you’re the one that really killed me, Emily Prentiss. 

***  

His night was spent mostly staring at the same ceiling, unable to give over to sleep. He was already awake the next morning when he heard the trolleys being wheeled down the corridors and the nurses skirting from room to room.

He knew it was George who entered his room without tearing his eyes away from the ceiling. He had a distinctive smelling aftershave and it wafted straight to Spencer’s nose. 

“I hear I should be thankful I wasn’t on the morning shift yesterday.” He spoke as he wheeled the trolley towards Spencer’s bed. 

“News of my breakdown travels fast.” He sighed, looking at George now. 

“You scared the crap out of poor Linda.” George picked up the medicine cup and a cup of water before handing them to Spencer. 

“It wasn’t intentional. I just…you wouldn’t get it.” He necked the pills and downed some water. 

“Try me.” George narrowed his eyes on him. 

Spencer heaved a sigh and pulled his hands up the sleeves of his sweater. 

“Unless you’ve been where I am, you wouldn’t understand.” 

George looked around the room momentarily as though he expected someone to be lurking in the shadows. When he looked back at Spencer his eyes were a little sad. 

“I have been where you are.” 

“What?” Spencer frowned.

“I mean not in that exact bed at this exact facility. But I was…I guess I am a drug addict.” He shrugged. 

“I’m confused.” Spencer’s frown deepened.

“I’ve been sober for thirteen years. I was just a kid when I started taking drugs. My boyfriend at the time was older than me and a huge junkie. I started using recreationally to seem cool around his friends. Then it got out of hand. By the time we broke up he left me with a broken heart and a pretty bad cocaine addiction.” 

Spencer’s eyes widened as he consumed George’s words. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t think of anything to say. So George continued. 

“I voluntarily checked myself into a facility. Getting clean was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. But I did do it. I got clean and I went to nursing school and now I dedicate my life to helping those like me.” He offered Spencer a sympathetic smile.

“It isn’t triggering? Working here and being around addicts?” 

“Quite the opposite actually. I find it cathartic.”

“I don’t know that I can do this, George. I don’t think I can get clean. I was sober for over ten years and I was so quick to give it up. I can have a good day but then in an instant it’s like I’m back at square one all over again.” Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. 

“Healing isn’t linear, Spencer.” George sighed a little. “Sometimes you have to take two steps forward and one step back on the road to recovery. Sometimes it’s two steps forward and five back. You’ll have good days, great days even. But you’ll also have the worst days of your life. But I can tell you with absolute certainty that it is worth it in the end. 

I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to say without a shadow of a doubt that I won’t ever touch drugs again. Nothing in this life is certain. But I can say for a fact that I don’t want to do drugs today. And I probably won’t tomorrow or next week or even next month. The thing with addiction is you just have to take each day as it comes, as you know. But you can’t expect to just get better overnight.” 

“You should be a therapist.” Spencer found himself smiling. 

“I can’t deal with listening to people whine about their problems.” George laughed. 

The sound was infectious enough to make Spencer laugh too, for the first time in a really long time. 

“Fair enough.” Spencer nodded, feeling lighter than he had done since he woke up in this place. 

“I should uh…” George pointed over his shoulder to the door. “You have got to stop monopolising my time, Doctor. Just because you’re cute, doesn’t mean you can have me all to yourself.”

Spencer’s cheeks instantly flushed pink and buried himself further down in his sheet to try and hide his embarrassment. He watched George leave, sending Spencer a wink before he closed and locked the door behind him. 

And goddamn if it weren’t for you constantly on his mind, he might have let himself fall for the dreamy nurse. 

***

He was brought his breakfast by an orderly but he just moved the food around his plate with the plastic fork without eating any. 

When the door opened again he assumed it would be the same orderly collecting his tray and was surprised when Doctor Delaney strolled in the room. 

“How are you feeling?” He didn’t seem amused, he was frustrated if anything. 

“Not great.” Spencer admitted. 

“You terrified nurse Linda.” Delaney folded his arms not trying to hide his annoyance. 

“So I’ve heard.” Spencer rolled his eyes. 

“You’re going to go and take a shower and then it’s time for group therapy.” 

“Pass.” Spencer folded his arms to mirror him. 

“Excuse me?” Delaney raised an eyebrow at him. 

“I said pass. I don’t want to get up. I don’t want to shower and I don’t want to go to group therapy. So I’m not.” 

“You can’t spend all day in your room.”

“I did yesterday.” Spencer shrugged. 

“Because you couldn’t be trusted around other people after your outburst.” 

“Maybe I still can’t be.” Spencer unfolded his arms, picked up the plastic fork and stabbed it hard into a piece of bacon. “Do you want to take that risk?” 

Delaney exhaled loudly through his nose.

“You’re a lot calmer than you were yesterday. I think it would prevalent to all involved that you-“

“Here’s the deal.” Spencer cut him off by shoving his tray of food on the floor, the sound clattering around the small room. “You make me leave this bed today and I will not be held accountable for my actions. I will strangle you with my bare hands just to get hold of a key to the medicine cabinet so I can get high. Does that sound calm to you?” 

Delaney narrowed his eyes before scoffing and shaking his head. 

“You’re only ruining your own life, Spencer. If you don’t want help then that’s fine by me. But if you threaten me or any of my staff again, I will turn you over to the cops.” Delaney spat at him, knowing it wasn’t at all professional and then fled the room before he said something he might regret. 

As he locked the door behind him he heard Spencer screaming at the top of his lungs. Some people were beyond help. Maybe Spencer was one of them. 

***

Spencer’s combination of medications made him inconceivably tired and he found himself sleeping through most of the day. He wasn’t sure if he was happy or not that it had been dreamless. 

A part of him wanted to see your face even if only in his dreams. But now you were starting to fade from his memory it scared him every time he saw you. 

This was the longest he’d been sober in years. He thought if anything his memories would be clearer once his mind was less foggy but it seemed to be having the opposite effect. He couldn’t lose you from his memories. He would break entirely if he lost all his recollections of you. He had to convince someone to call you. He had to see you no matter the cost. 

He snaked his arms up the sleeves of his sweater under the sheet and wrapped them around himself. He rolled his head to the side on the pillow and was startled by a pair of icy blue eyes staring back at him.

“Who’s Y/N?” George smiled at him from where was sitting in the chair at the desk. 

Spencer pulled his arms out from under the sheet and rubbed his eyes. 

“What are you doing here? Where’s your scrubs?” He croaked.

“I got off shift a little while ago, thought I’d come check on you.” George shrugged. 

“You’ve been watching me sleep? You do realise that’s incredibly creepy don’t you?” 

“Who’s Y/N?” He avoided the question. “You were mumbling the name in your sleep.” 

“Something you wouldn’t know if you weren’t watching me sleep.” Spencer scoffed. “She’s my ex-girlfriend.” 

“Ah.” George pulled a face. “I always crush on the straight guys.” 

“Should you be telling me that?” Spencer couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“Probably not but I don’t think you’ll tell anyone.” George smiled at him and it was a very nice smile. 

“And I’m not necessarily…straight. I’m…something.” Spencer shook his head. 

“You’ve slept with men?” George smirked, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Seems like an inappropriate question coming from my nurse, but…yes. I have been with men and women.” Spencer laughed again. 

“So there’s hope for me yet?” George teased. 

“I mean if this emaciated, drug addict look is your thing…?” Spencer rolled his eyes.

“I told you, my ex was a junkie. Guess I have a type.” George’s eyes sparkled playfully. 

“Is it weird if I say I’m kind of flattered?” Spencer frowned. “I did not expect someone to find me attractive like this.” 

“Well, I do.” George shrugged. “Which is kind of why I’m here.” 

Spencer’s eyes widened and he hugged himself tighter. 

“I uh…I don’t think we should…”

“Not that.” George laughed, standing up from the chair. “You think I’ve come here to get into your pants while you're trying to recover from a drug addiction? Please, I have morals.” 

“Oh.” Spencer frowned again. “What did you mean then?” 

George came to his bedside and smiled softly at him. 

“I came to tell you that because I am attracted to you, I have requested a floor change. I’m not going to be giving out meds on this floor anymore. I think it’s for the best.” 

“Oh.” Spencer pouted. “That’s…that’s a shame.” 

“I can’t fall for another addict.” George took a step back. 

“Fair enough.” Spencer nodded. “Thank you for being honest with me.” 

“You’re welcome.” George shrugged. “I should be getting off. I have two very hungry cats at home and if I’m late there will be hell to pay.” 

“Ok.” Spencer didn’t know what else to say. 

George backed towards the door and he reached it and opened it with one hand behind his back. He kept his eyes on Spencer and smiled wistfully. 

“I hope you beat this Doctor Reid. I really hope you do.” He stepped out into the corridor. 

“Me too.” Spencer admitted out loud. 

He watched George close the door and lock it behind him. 

He really meant it. Spencer really did want to beat this. He fought it so hard because it was easier being a drug addict than actually dealing with his trauma. But he did want to get better. He wanted to get clean and he wanted to be ok again. It wasn’t going to be easy, he knew that. But he had a new found determination that he was going to get better. 

When another orderly brought him his dinner a little while later he asked to see a doctor. He wasn’t even a little surprised it wasn’t Delaney that came to his room. 

He convinced the doctor to help him into his chair and wheel him to the right place. Thankfully he met little opposition from the new doctor who’s name he forgot, and he was taken to his destination. 

Once inside the room with the door closed behind him, Spencer broke out into fits of sobs. He sobbed into his hands, loudly whining and whimpering as he got it out of his system. His whole body wracked with the weight of it all. His small frame shuddered from his sobs that he seemed to have been holding in for a lifetime. 

He cried so much his eyes were sore and his nose was completely blocked. His sleeves were drenched with tears and snot but he didn’t seem to notice, let alone care. He cried for several long minutes before he forced himself to stop. There would be time for tears later. 

He wiped his eyes on his sleeves before looking up. His bottom lip quivered as he looked her in the eye and squeaked, “I want to get better. And I want you to help me.” 

Maggie smiled softly at him, nodding her head. 

“Of course, Spencer. Of course I’ll help you.” 

***

Three days passed and Spencer went about his new routine with surprisingly little resistance. That’s not to say he was thriving, not yet at least. But he hoped he’d get there. 

Group therapy was by far his least favourite activity of the day. He was still reluctant to open up to Cedric and the group and when he did speak he usually kept it unemotional, facts rather than feelings. 

His sessions with Maggie were much more preferable although still difficult. They’d started as she suggested in his childhood and discussed his fathers leaving and his mothers illness at great lengths. They moved on to his life as a child prodigy and to Spencer’s surprise they’d started unpacking a lot from that time. 

Spencer had never really dwelled much on the pressure being so intelligent had put on his shoulders. Even when he joined the BAU, he was mostly just a prize for Gideon to show off, his walking talking know-it-all. He’d never realised how much that had affected his mental well-being, or how much of an intense burden it was to be so smart at such a young age. 

She’d made him see that because of his intelligence he’d been more aware of all the bad in his life. Most ten years old wouldn’t have been so impressed upon by their fathers abandonment. But because Spencer was smarter than the average ten year old he’d been more conscious of what was happening. The same could be said for his mothers illness. 

In their session today they’d started to unpack the stresses and strains of a twenty two year old genius joining the FBI. 

Therapy exhausted Spencer mentally. PT exhausted him physically. But he could now take tentative steps with the aid of crutches, even if it had pained him tremendously to do so. Nick advised using the wheelchair where he could but said as long as he was careful he was happy for Spencer to try using the crutches to get about. 

He still craved drugs and he knew that wasn’t going to change any time soon and his medication was yet to make an impact. But he was trying. It was going to be an uphill battle but he was really trying. 

It was Tuesday which meant it was visitation day. It was a sunny afternoon and his new doctor, who he’d learnt was called Doctor Sanderson, suggested having his visitor meet him in the courtyard. 

Spencer used his crutches to get from his room to the garden area and found his guest at a bench next to some rose bushes. When he saw the back of her head he picked up his speed, almost tripping on the crutches in his excitement. 

“Garcia!” He called her name as he approached and she turned to face him.

The minute she laid eyes on him she started crying instantly. 

“Boy wonder!” She screeched, jumping up and almost tackling him in a hug. “Oh my gosh I missed you so very, very much!” 

“I missed you too.” He couldn’t hug her back as he was gripping his crutches but he nuzzled his face in her neck so she knew he was trying. 

She pulled back and looked him up and down, her face contorting into an expression of sadness. 

“Oh Spencer, look at you.”

“I know.” He nodded. “It’s not ideal.” 

“Come, sit down.” She motioned him to the bench and he hobbled behind her on his crutches before falling to the bench rather unceremoniously.

Garcia plastered her practiced smile back on and reached next to her, producing a Tupperware pot full of cookies. 

“For me?” Spencer’s eyes lit up slightly. 

“As long as you don’t mind sharing.” Garcia popped the lid and let Spencer help himself to one of the chocolate chip discs of heaven.

He took a large bite and hummed around a mouthful.

“Holy crap this is the best thing I’ve eaten in…a long time.” 

“Good huh?” Garcia took a bite of her own. “I made them with Henry and Michael. Michael said to make sure you know he sprinkled it with extra love.” 

Spencer’s eyes immediately glistened with tears. 

“Tell him I can taste it.” He sniffed. 

“Also they drew you pictures. They couldn’t wait until JJ came to see you for you to have them.” She picked up the stack of childrens drawings and handed them to Spencer while he finished the cookie and helped himself to another. 

“These will certainly brighten up my room.” He smiled a little sadly. “Thank them for me.” 

“Oh I most certainly will.” She smiled at him but it faltered. “How are you?” 

“I honestly don’t know. It's hard, being here, being sober. It’s hard to open up when I’ve spent so much of my life shutting down. It’s a struggle every day. But I do want to get better.” Spencer gave her a tight lipped smile. 

“You had me worried sick.” She nibbled on her cookie. “I thought you were going to die.” 

Spencer sighed and chewed on his lip. 

“I wanted to die. I know that’s not what you want to hear but if being in this place is teaching me anything it’s that I need to be honest. And the truth is I wanted to die.” 

Garcia pouted her bright pink lip and put the half eaten cookie back in the container. She turned her body towards Spencer and gently placed her hand on his shoulder. 

“Do you still feel that way?” Her voice cracked a little.

“Honestly, sometimes. I think it’s going to be a while until I don’t feel that way.” 

“Oh Spencer.” She squeezed his shoulder. “I should have done more to help you.” 

“Don’t say that, Penelope. I pushed you away, I haven’t seen any of you in so long you couldn’t have known…” he trailed off when Garcia’s expression changed. “What is it?”

“I saw you…seven, maybe eight months ago.” A tear rolled from her eye under the thick rim of her purple glasses.

“You did?” Spencer frowned. 

“Yes.” She sniffed dramatically. “I was on my way home from work and this new Thai place had opened down the street and I thought boy genius loves Thai food, I wonder if he’d like some. So I brought some food over.”

“And I was high.” Spencer filled in the blanks. 

“You were a mess…”

She tottered up the stairs on her too high heels, balancing take out containers in her arms with a smile on her face. It had been so long since she’d last seen Spencer and she couldn’t wait to see the look on the good doctor's face when she showed up with his favourite cuisine. 

But when she reached the top of the stairs, she immediately dropped every single one of the containers on the floor. 

“Spencer!” She shrieked, running as fast as her heels would carry her to his door. 

Spencer was slumped on the floor, his back to his apartment door, head bowed and eyes closed. There was a puddle of vomit next to him on the floor. 

“Spencer! Oh my god Spencer! Are you breathing? Please tell me you’re breathing!” She fell to her knees, gripping his jaw to pull his head back and pressing her fingers on her other hand to the pulse point on his neck. 

She breathed a sigh of relief when she felt his pulse, albeit a thready one.

“Spencer! Boy wonder! Can you hear me?” Grabbing him by the shoulders she gave him a firm shake. 

His body was limp like a rag doll for a moment and then suddenly he stiffened and his eyes shot open.

“Huh?” He blinked a few times trying to focus. 

“Spence, it’s me, Penelope. Can you hear me?” 

“Y-yes.” He nodded. “What are you doing here? Where are we?” 

“Outside your apartment G-Man. What are you doing here?” She helped him to his feet and he wobbled a little before leaning against the wall for support.

She saw the cogs turning in his head for a moment before he nodded to himself.

“I locked myself out. I lost my keys.” 

Garcia looked around but it didn’t take her long to see his set of keys dangling from the lock in the door.

“Those keys?” She frowned, pointing at them. 

Spencer rubbed his eyes with his palms and blinked again before smiling dumbly. 

“My keys!” He cheered. “What would I do without you Garcia?” 

He pushed himself away from the wall but stumbled and Garcia quickly steadied him. 

“Let’s get you inside.” With one hand she balanced Spencer and unlocked the door with the other. 

“What happened? Spence? Where have you…”

“Y/N?”

“Sorry?” Garcia snapped out of her story and looked at Spencer who was staring off across the courtyard. 

“I thought I saw…” he shook his head and looked back at her. “Sorry, carry on.” 

Garcia narrowed her eyes on him briefly before exhaling and continuing with her story. 

“What happened? Spence? Where have you been?” She aided in getting him inside and couldn’t hold back her gasp at the state of the apartment. 

Spencer didn’t even seem to notice, or he was just used to it, and manoeuvred the obstacles of destruction towards the couch. 

“Hmm? Oh just out.” He shrugged, collapsing on the beat up leather. 

“Are those…bullet holes?” She gasped again at the obliterated end of the couch. 

“Hmm.” Spencer hummed, swinging his legs up and laying down. 

“Spencer, what’s happened here? I’m really worried about…”

“Y/N?” 

Garcia trailed off again to see Spencer once more looking out across the courtyard. 

“I…I’m sure that’s…” he frowned, grabbing his crutches and pushing himself up with them. “I’ll be right back.”

“Spencer, where are you-“

“I’ll be two minutes.” He called over his shoulder but he was already hobbling away on his crutches. 

It was frustrating not to be able to move faster as he tried to hurry after the familiar back of a head he’d seen wandering the institute's grounds. He followed the path he saw you take behind the building into a more secluded part of the gardens. 

He found you sitting in the grass with your back to him, legs crossed and your head buried in a book. His heart raced partly from the exertion of getting here but mostly from excitement. You were here. You were right in front of him. You’d found him. 

“Y/N?” He called your name as he approached and you spun round to face him, wide eyed.

For the first time in a long time your features weren’t blurred. You looked exactly as he remembered you, maybe a little skinnier and with the addition of dark circles under your eyes. 

“Y/N!” He choked, feeling his tears gathering. “Oh my gosh, you came! Y/N I can’t believe you’re here!”

You jumped up from the grass and clutched your book tightly to your chest. You kept your eyes firmly on him, your back was up instantly. 

“Y/N, say something.” Spencer smiled shakily at you and when he got too close you took a few steps back. 

“This is my reading spot. My private reading spot.” You spoke quietly. 

“Maybe it can be our reading spot?”

“No. No.” You shook your heading, taking another step backwards. “I like to be alone.” 

“Y/N, what’s going on?” 

You clutched your book tighter against your chest as though it was a shield. You took another step backwards and swallowed hard. 

“Look, I just want to be left alone ok?” Your eyes held a hint of fear to them. 

Spencer’s eyebrows knitted heavily as he profiled your expression as you looked at him. He didn’t see a hint of recognition. It was like you had no idea who he was. 

“I…we…” he stumbled on his words. 

“Look I was on a lot of drugs ok? So if we slept together or something I’m sorry but I don’t remember a lot of stuff.” Your eyes shifted about, not able to look at one thing for too long. 

“Drugs? You weren’t on drugs.” Spencer shook his head. 

“Why do you think I’m here?” You shrugged. 

“You’re not…I thought you were here to…see me?”

“Why would I be here to see you?”

“Because we...” He trailed off, his head spinning. Was he asleep? Was this just another of his vivid dreams? 

“Please leave me alone” you whispered, hugging your book even tighter. 

What the fuck was going on? 

“Y/N, I…”

“Spencer?” Garcia’s voice came from behind him and he looked over his shoulder to see her toddling his way, heels sinking into the grass. “Spencer, what are you doing?” 

“I…I was just…” he turned back to face you only to find you gone, vanished as if into thin air. 

What the fuck is happening to me? 

“You need to sit down, come on.” Garcia waved him over. 

He looked between her and the now empty space. Was he completely losing it? 

“Spencer, come on.” 

He sighed heavily and turned himself around and hobbled towards Garcia. He kept his thoughts at bay until they were seated back on the bench. 

“Garcia, I need to talk to you about Y/N.” 

Much like Emily, Luke and Rossi, her facial expression changed to one Spencer just couldn’t read. 

“Uh…” she fiddled with her hands in her lap and wouldn’t make eye contact with him. “Emily said we aren’t supposed to talk to you about that.” 

“What? Why?” Spencer frowned. 

“I just can't, ok? I promised Em.” 

“Penelope, tell me what’s going on.” Spencer spoke sternly and Garcia still didn’t look at him as she pushed herself up from the bench. 

“I should go. Take such good care of yourself boy wonder.”

“Garcia!” He pulled himself up too. “Tell me what’s going on! Please!”

“I can’t.” She turned back to him and he saw the tears in her eyes. “Just trust me ok? Please, just trust me.”

“I need someone to explain to me why nobody will talk about her. What am I missing here, Penelope?”

He looked so sad and confused and it broke Garcia’s heart. 

“Sometimes the truth doesn’t set us free.” She sniffed and suddenly she was hurrying away as fast as her heels would carry her. 

Spencer watched her go, in complete uncertainty. Something was going on. Something bigger than he could comprehend. He was missing something and he was sure it was something big. 

The team was keeping something from him. Something pertaining to you and he had no idea what. 

But he had to find out. 

Next Chapter

Taglist

@andiebeaword @measure-in-pain @takeyourleap-of-faith @dirtytissuebox @smurphyse @ssa-uglywhore27 @reidselle @reidsbookclub @tiredmilky @thatsonezesty13 @1mechanicalalligator @elle-28

[kudosmyhero]

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (IDW) Micro: Villains #5: Karai

Read Date: April 10, 2023 Cover Date: August 2013 ● Writer: Erik Burnham ● Art: Cory Smith ● Colors: Ian Herring ● Letterer: Shawn Lee ● Editor: Bobby Curnow ●

**HERE BE SPOILERS: Skip ahead to the fan art/podcast to avoid spoilers

Reactions As I Read: ● looks like only two of the five students we can easily see were able to "steel themselves against surprise." ● "What were you before you felt this way?" / "Younger." - oof, felt that one ● Karai is an autodidact. she is … really growing on me as a character

● harsh Leo is harsh ● 👏👏👏👏👏

Synopsis: The issue begins at the Foot Clan's genin training facility in Westchester County, New York. The head teacher Toshiro is leading a group in a training session, teaching them the importance of moving in unison. Karai appears and intentionally surprises the group, seeing which students are startled and which are not. She seeks council from Toshiro. Karai tells Toshiro she is unsure of what direction to proceed in; she struggles to accept her new place in the clan (under Leonardo, now a chūnin). She knows she cannot hope to challenge her grandfather Oroku Saki for control of the clan and win, nor can she leave the clan for without it she feels she is nothing.

She tells Toshiro how in her youth her father Oroku Yori told her stories of the Foot Clan's glory and told her to draw strength from the, but saw that it was apparent that he himself did not, having turned the clan into a legion of lawyers and accountants. On one occasion, she saw one of her father's advising subordinates, Nakamura, speak to him with disrespect, and how he brushed it off with the promise of monetary gain. Caught eavesdropping by her mother, she is sent to he library to occupy herself. It is then that she found the Ashi no Himitsu, the book containing all the history and secrets of the Foot Clan. She studied it in secret, learning everything she could. For years she lived a double life: the prim, proper upper class girl her mother wanted her to be by day, and the ninja her father never was by night. One night, Oroku Saki appeared before her in a dream. He compliments her form, good for one with no formal instruction. Saki admires that she does not fear him. Karai says she has nothing to fear from a dream. Saki slashes her across the hand and asks if one feels pain in a dream. She says he is a ghost then, but still shows no fear. She says she plans on bringing the Foot Clan out of the mire her father dragged it into. Saki tells her that they will do it together. He may be dead, but he tells her that she can bring him back to life.

Karai spent the next few years building the clan's resources, recruiting capable bodies to her cause and eliminating those who were responsible for dragging the clan down. Eventually, Karai hunted down Nakamura, the man who she'd witnessed disrespect her father, and killed him. Without him to aid in the running of the clan, her father eventually died of stress.

She laments to Toshiro that after rebuilding the Foot Clan and resurrecting its jōnin, he chose another as his second-in-command. If she has nothing to offer but her past accomplishments, she wonders, what use is she? At that point Leonardo arrives and derides her for coming to whine to an old man, for not having the strength to deal with things on her own. Leonardo says that he was sent to evaluate the effectiveness of the training facility, and he has deemed it nearly worthless. Karai tells him that Toshiro is an excellent teacher but he has not been given enough time to train the new recruits. Leonardo tells Karai that her opinion is worthless, and her only worth to him is in how fast she can do what he tells her to. Leonardo continues provoking her, taunting her with her poor ability to lead. Karai attacks him and Leonardo is pleased, eager to put her in her place. During their fight, Karai realizes that Leonardo's movements are slower, less sure. She knows she could finish him once and for all if she chose to. Karai feigns defeat and Leonardo leaves. Toshiro asks why Karai stayed her hand. She explains that if she had killed him, her grandfather would kill her for disobedience. She knows she must change Oroku Saki's mind about Leonardo first. She vows to have her revenge, and makes the decision to look to the future rather than the past.

Two days later, Karai has gathered potential recruits (two of whom are Bebop and Rocksteady) at Shorai Research & Development, one of the Foot Clan's facilities. She tells them they have all been chosen for their understanding that power is what makes one last in this world. She tells them that there is one final test before making the decision on who will be chosen for the procedure. They will fight until the last two standing.

(https://turtlepedia.fandom.com/wiki/Karai_(IDW_issue))

Fan Art: Leo and Karai by ice-mei

Accompanying Podcast: ● Shellheads - episode 46

[fetabathwater]

so can i ask how you see amma and gortash's relationship prior to receiving a knife in the head? ive seen how other people write it and then i found your fics and im interested in how you came to liking the dark urge and gortash

honestly found it due to insanity. < joking.

on a serious note my kryptonite in games has always been some degree of connection between characters, because i have such a love/hate relationship with how it widens the world and interpersonal relationships but can also simultaneously seem to make everything seem relatively small. but with bg3 i kind of really like that balance there because like, anything is quite frankly possible with durge anyway - the only traits are like 1) spawn of bhaal 2) serial killer (?) 3) worked with the other dead three chosen within the last 2 years and 4) was knifed by another chosen of bhaal and tadpoled. you can make up anything and everything because the game is dnd and the rules are whatever, too. yeah you get context clues from other characters, like that ketheric fundamentally can't stand anyone, but the chosen(s) of bhaal more so, and he tolerated the durge bc at least they had a work ethic (LOL), and gortash like plans 500 steps ahead so made it his prime directive to touch base with the bhaalist leader and be like, hey man, wanna go break into some places with me? or wanna take over the world? raphael is also there. yknow.

also definitely the delivery of lines sold me too - not just gortash's VA, but the way orin kind of like looooaaattthhhheeesss how durge was seemingly wrapped up in other shit ( slash sarevok is even like. yeah you thought you were untouchable and didnt notice that orin was making her own move for the throne . idiot. stupidhead. worst chosen next 2 me). also all the other characters as well who have something to say, like kressa, helsik and naaber, never mind all of the moonrise tower and then the quests in act 3, but starting earlier with just partially revealed information.

i . okay yeah like i have seen some interesting sort of takes of durge / gortash and each to their own etc etc but i think that the durge has a lot more agency than ppl wanna give them credit for, and i think people also vastly underestimate that gortash also seemingly underestimated them as well - like just bc durge wrote some like note about forgive me father but i am being charmed by the chosen of bane (however u wanna interpret that ofc), they did still end it with oh well ! i'll probably feel a tiny smidgen of guilt when i backstab him but we're gonna end the world in ur name dad ! praise bhaal! LIKE. THE DURGE WAS DEFINITELY GONNA STILL KILL EVERYONE - EVEN THE NETHERBRAIN WAS LIKE. YEAH YOU HELD IT ALL TOGETHER AND YOU SCARED ME EVEN A LITTLE BIT. YOU WERE GONNA KILL EVERYONE.

honestly though ive barely actually posted anythign i have written for them teehee i checked. it was like 2 fics. 1 of them they were fucking. so i mean take that how you will ... but like i mean amma and gortash's "relationship" extends back longer than what the range of the game gives, at least in my mind and what ive like. got an idea of anyway for her pre-bg3 life / adventures were like. but as far as how they like interact it is barely above tolerable. towards the absolute sort of planning it is running a lot warmer, but theyre just. aware of each other. in some similar circles because of well. lower city activities etc. a general equal partnership with stepping on each others toes, seeing how far to push the other. amma probably does hold on some threatening level a bit more of a . position. just because like (okay hindsight compared to orin), it is literally her own person not having her run gortash through - and he knows that. with orin he makes her basically agree to a magical contract to not harm him, but amma's the only thing holding herself back from just like. killing him. and for the most part she probably would just be mildly inconvenienced and it would probably leave her bed running a bit cold but like. she would bounce back. it would just INCONVENIENCE the plan heavily because chosen of bane are few and far between.

and also she knows that gortash also primarily gives the targets that are convenient for him, and there definitely times when it was bordering on a bit too much pointing and doing - and in her mind not enough equal weight pulling definitely. very much a case of balancing the scales in terms of doing their part, especially with the like multiple heists they perform (at least 3 minimum), and not just being aware of the other especially prior to both being selected as the chosen of their respective god. but yeah. there is no real "love" between them, no love lost either. arguably amma doesnt really know what love is, or in her own roundabout way expresses it much in the way of loving something so much you have the urge to eat it. yeah, amma does have a slight attachment, one that kind of hits a higher speed immediately prior to being knifed and tadpoled, because that is when we get the heists and actual partnership and its not just the introduction of the steel watch and him clawing his way up the social ladder by encouraging favour by lords and ladies and their beds, and its not the bhaalists just kind of sitting by idle and waiting for something to kick them into gear because yeah people are dying but at the same time, its not striking the fear into people's hearts like it used to, just letting them fade into history, despite bhaal's return like 10yrs prior.

amma kind of hates that gortash actually gave her a way to bring them back into the fray, and that she also does have to hold off from not ending him before the plan would have worked completely. a lot of that feeling is in the few times that she does like, strike out at him, either with planned wounds or if she has violently lashed out in general and even when they fuck, honestly. when amma does wrangle herself back into that position of control, especially in a position where gortash is incredibly vulnerable, its messes with her hatred so bad. she doesnt know if he is willingly submitting to her, because yeah she loves a bit of fighting back, hair pulling, scratching, getting told off, what can she say. definitely does something to her. but amma kind of loves when she's almost literally got him underfoot.

she wouldve followed the plan through to the end as well, so it is a mixed blessing for a lot of people that orin took an opportunity to strike at her.

ultimately its not so much that whole like 'i can fix him / i can make him worse' stuff either, because like amma did have a chance at a "normal" life, but she still returned to the temple of bhaal (whether or not by her own choice is ofc . debatable lmao). gortash was sold to a warlock, beaten in the house of hope routinely, escaped only to wind up in street gangs, eventually made his way to being an arms dealer, worked up the social ladder with equal parts sex and money and blackmail, sold possibly his friend into slavery for technology (we just really dont know the full extent of what zariel promised yknow), was the one who reached out to the bhaalist leader and concocted the idea to raid a vault or two, both in faerun and the hells. like, they were choices that were made, to keep them both firmly though on the side of like... theyre not realistically good people, their childhoods definitely shaped them, but they didnt try to change then and there. they just stay the same, and there is no getting better or worse. there just is.

[translations-by-aiimee]

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 22

Original Title:  二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 22 - This Venerable One's Shizun is Getting Angry

When Chu Wanning heard this, he was so angry that he could barely keep himself from retracting Tianwen and slashing the Chen couple. But he couldn't open his eyes to confront them. Once he opened his eyes, the barrier would be broken. The Return to Truth barrier could only trap a ghost once. If his interrogation was interrupted, he wouldn't be able to listen to any more of Luo Xianxian's story.

All he could do was contain his overwhelming rage and continue listening to Luo Xianxian.

After she died, her soul entered the underworld, unaware and confused.

The only thing that she could make out was a woman wearing red and green robes with facial features that resembled the Master of Ceremonies Ghost enshrined in a temple. The Master of Ceremonies Ghost stood in front of her and asked her in a soft voice: "You and Chen Bohuan couldn't share a bed in life. Would you like to share the same grave in death?"

She hurriedly agreed: "Yes. . . Yes please!"

"Then I can let him come join you right away. What do you think?"

Luo Xianxian wanted to blurt out a yes, rushing to agree, but suddenly remembered something and froze. "Am I dead?"

"Yes. I am the Master of the Underworld Ghost. I can give you the destiny you deserve and fulfill your long-cherished wish."

Luo Xianxian was startled: "Then, if he comes to join me, will he. . . also die?"

"Yes. However, if loves persists in the afterlife, life and death are irrelevant. What difference does it make?"

Chu Wanning heard this, he thought to himself that he had been right; this Master of Ceremonies Ghost would persuade others to make a wish so that she could reap the benefits. This immortal was truly diabolical.

Although Luo Xianxian died unjustly, she hadn't yet become a malevolent ghost, so she repeatedly shook his head: "No. It wasn't his fault. You can't kill him."

The Master of Ceremonies Ghost smiled compassionately: "And what did you get in return for this kindness?" It didn't force Luo Xianxian to do anything. As an immortal being, they could persuade someone to make a bad wish, but they couldn't force them. Its figure gradually faded away, its voice becoming hazier and hazier.

"Return to the world in seven days. During those seven days, go and see how the Chen family is faring. After that, I'll ask you again if you still have no regrets about your decision."

Seven days later, the day arrived.

Luo Xianxian's soul returned to a conscious form and returned to the world of the living.

Following the old road, she eagerly walked towards the Chen house to see her husband for the last time.

Unexpectedly, the Chen house was decorated with lights, and outside the courtyard, there were fireworks. Bridal flowers were decorating the halls. and a big "double happiness" banner was hanging in front of the main hall. Madam Chen was radiant, not appearing sickly in the slightest. She was smiling and instructing the servants to wrap the bouquets with red silk.

Who. . . was having a wedding?

Who. . . were the bride and groom?

Who. . . no one was engaged, what was going on?

Who. . .

She walked through the busy crowd, listening to the sound of people in the world of the living.

"Congratulations, Madam Chen. Your son is getting engaged to the daughter of the county magistrate. When's the wedding?"

"Madam Chen, you're so fortunate."

"Yao Qianjin is truly the lucky star of the Chen family and they aren't even official yet. Madam Chen, you look so much healthier already."

"Your son and Yao Qianjin are a match made in heaven. I'm so jealous, hahahaha."

Her son. . . Her son. . .

Which son?

Which one was marrying the daughter of the Yao family?

She shuttled back and forth across the familiar front yard, growing more and more frantic, looking for that familiar figure in the midst of all the laughter.

Then she found him.

In front of the peony flowers in the back hall, Chen Bohuan stood with his hands behind his back with a haggard face and sunken cheeks. However, he was dressed in red. Even though it wasn't a traditional wedding outfit, it was a Caidie Town custom. When a prospective son-in-law comes to propose marriage, he should wear this type of red gown.

Was he. . . going to propose. . .?

The decorations in the whole house, the strings of gold and silver beads, was it all. . . was it all from Chen Bohuan, her husband, as a dowry for the daughter of the Yao family?

She suddenly recalled the time when they got married.

There was nothing but two people that shared one heart - nothing else.

There was no master of ceremonies, no bridesmaids, and no dowry. The Chen family weren't wealthy at that time and didn't even own a decent set of jewelry. He went into the yard and picked a delicate orange blossom from under the orange tree they had planted together and carefully tucked it behind her ear.

She asked him: "Does it look good?"

He said it looked beautiful. After a moment of silence, he stroked her hair with some sadness and told her: "You deserve so much better than this."

Luo Xianxian smiled and pursed his lips, saying that it didn't matter.

Chen Bohuan told her that when he married her three years later, he would hold a lively wedding banquet. He would invite people from all over the world. He would have her make a grand entrance on a large sedan chair. He would give her gold and silver to wear, and the dowry gifts would fill the entire main hall.

Those vows still echoed in her ears. Now, all those promises have come true, the hall filled with gifts and guests.

He was getting married, just not to her.

A monstrous flame of anger and sorrow surged through her. Luo Xianxian screamed, trying to tear at the hanging red silk in the room.

But she was a ghost; she couldn't touch anything.

Chen Bohuan seemed to vaguely notice something. He turned around, staring at the silk moving despite there being no wind. His eyes were dull and hollow.

His little sister came over, a white jade hairpin clipped on the side of her bun. She didn't know who she was secretly mourning by wearing it.

She said: "Big brother, go to the kitchen to eat something. You haven't had a proper meal in days. You have to hurry up and go to the county magistrate's house later to propose. Your body won't hold up."

Chen Bohuan suddenly asked without thinking: "Sister, did you hear someone crying?"

". . . What? No, brother, I think you're still. . ." She gritted her teeth and didn't finish her thought. Chen Bohuan still stared at the fluttering silk sheets.

"How is my mother? Is she happy? Has her illness been cured?"

". . . Brother."

". . . I'm glad she's feeling better." Chen Bohuan stood there, muttering to himself. "I already lost Luo Xianxian, I couldn't live without my mother."

"Brother, go eat something. . ."

Luo Xianxian wailed. She yelled and bawled with her head in her hands.

Don't go. . . don't go. . . please don't go. . .

Chen Bohuan said: ". . . Alright."

The tired figure disappeared around the corner.

Luo Xianxian stood alone in a daze, large tears rolling down her face. Suddenly, she heard the brothers of the Chen family who killed her approaching. The second eldest brother and the younger brother were whispering to each other.

"Mother is finally happy. Finally, things are going our way."

"Right? She pretended to be sick for half and year. Now that that cursed bitch is gone, how could she not be thrilled?"

The younger brother tsked and said, "How come she died? We wanted to force her out, not kill her. Was she really so stupid that she couldn't even find someone to help her?"

"Who knows. She was weak, just like her rotten father. It's not our fault that she died. Even though mother pretended to be sick to get rid of her, our family has its own struggles. Think about it, when the options county magistrate’s daughter and some pauper girl, only a fool would choose the latter. Besides, even if Yao Qianjin is a brat, she's got enough money to go around."

"Yes, she's so dumb. She didn't want to live so she let herself freeze to death. No one could've saved her."

The words drifted to her ears.

After Luo Xianxian died, she finally understood the so-called "Divine Fate". She was completely broke and couldn't compare to the county magistrate's daughter who was so noble and honourable.

Only a fool would choose the pauper girl.

She finally snapped.

She returned to the Master of Ceremonies' temple full of hatred and resentment.

She died there. Unlike how weak and helpless she was when she died, she returned with overwhelming hostility.

She used to be such a kind person, but now, all the hatred and evil that had been built inside her while she was alive came flooding out. She roared, her eyes turning red, her soul trembling.

She said: "I, Luo Xianxian, would like to give up my soul and follow the path of wickedness. I only ask you to avenge me! I want the Chen family - I don't want you to kill them!!! I want. . . I want to let my beastly mother-in-law kill her sons by her own hand! All her sons!!! I want Chen Bohuan to go to hell with me!!! Let him be buried with me!!! Do it for me!!! I hate them! I hate them!!!!"

The eyes of the clay sculpture on the shrine shifted and the corners of its mouth slowly raised.

A hollow voice echoed through the temple.

"I have heard your prayers. It will be as you wish. As an evil spirit - kill all those that you resent -"

A piercing blood-red light flashed, and Luo Xianxian couldn't remember anything after that.

However, Chu Wanning already what happened next. After that, the Master of Ceremonies Ghost manipulated Luo Xianxian's spirit to possess Madam Chen and force her to kill each member of the Chen family.

The red coffin on the top of the mountain, the reason why Chen Bohuan was dug up, naturally, was because the Master of Ceremonies Ghost was fulfilling Luo Xianxian's greatest wish - "Let Chen Bohuan and I be buried together." Moreover, it deliberately placed the coffin on the property of Chen Bohuan and his new wife as an act of spiteful revenge.

As for the floral scent in Chen Bohuan's coffin, it was the scent of the butterfly fragrance powder that Luo Xianxian had worn before her death. The resentment and fragrance in the coffin were both extremely strong because Luo Xianxian's soul was resting alongside Chen Bohuan inside it.

Luo Xianxian had no family. According to the customs, if a person like that dies, their bones should be cremated instead of buried. Therefore, she had no physical body and could only be contained within the coffin by the Master of Ceremonies Ghost. That's why, when Chu Wanning opened the coffin with his willow vine, Luo Xianxian had escaped the coffin's containment. Her soul flew away, and it was difficult to recapture. It was a situation of "a closed coffin being heavy with resentment but an open coffin being light".

But during the illusion, why did other people have dead bodies as their partners but Chen Bohuan only had a paper-mache ghost bride?

Chu Wanning thought for a moment and figured out this much:

The Master of Ceremonies Ghost didn't break its promise. The paper-mache bride was the "physical body" that it gave Luo Xianxian. It was a vessel so that Luo Xianxian could be buried with Chen Bohuan.

Everything was clear.

Chu Wanning looked at the weak and helpless girl in the barrier. He wanted to say something but didn't know what to say.

Elder Yuheng wasn't particularly good at comforting words. He couldn't think of anything, so he stayed silent, not having anything he could say.

The girl stood in the vast darkness with her soft round eyes open.

Chu Wanning looked at her eyes and couldn't bear it. He wanted to leave. He didn't want to take another look. He was about to open his eyes and leave the Return to Truth barrier.

Then the girl suddenly spoke.

"Lord Yama. I. . . I have something else I want to tell you."

Chu Wanning: ". . . Alright."

The girl suddenly lowered her head, covered her eyes, and cried. She said softly, "Lord Yama, I don't know what I did after that. But, I. . . I really didn't want to kill my husband. I didn't want to be an evil spirit. I really. . ."

"I didn't steal the oranges. I really am Chen Bohuan's wife. And I truly, truly didn't want to hurt anyone either."

"I truly didn't want anyone to get hurt. Please believe me."

Her voice choked and trembled, her words breaking.

"I. . . didn't lie. . ."

I didn't lie.

Why is it that, in this life, almost no one believed me?

She sobbed and screamed. Chu Wanning's voice sounded low in the darkness. He didn't say much, but he said it with conviction.

"Okay."

Luo Xianxian was shocked.

Chu Wanning said: "I believe you."

Luo Xianxian wiped her tears with her hands indiscriminately but couldn't hold them back. Hiding her tearful face, she lowered her head and bowed her head in his direction in the darkness.

Chu Wanning opened his eyes.

After he opened his eyes, he didn't say anything.

Time in the barrier wasn't the same as in reality. He had stayed there for a long time but, for the people waiting outside, it had only been a moment. Mo Ran hadn't returned yet. The few remaining people in the Chen family were still looking at him with bated breath.

Chu Wanning withdrew Tianwen and said to Madam Chen: "I'll avenge you. You can find peace."

Madam Chen froze and opened her blood-red eyes, and suddenly fell to the ground with a thud, knocked out cold.

Chu Wanning raised his head again. His eyes swept across Chen's face then landed on the youngest son. His voice didn't waver, and it was still frighteningly cold.

"I'll ask one last time." He said each word slowly and decisively. "Did you really not recognize whose voice that was?"

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

[i-love-you-all]

(don't know if you still take requests/ideas, if not feel free to ignore)

angsty idea: there are some types of box jellyfish whose venom, among other things, causes the victim to feel a sense of panic and impending doom. Enemy Skye (or enemy Viper) managed to incorporate that into their arsenal, and test it on one of the agents. The victim is of your choice.

Ah yes... pain/injury stuff... my fave :)) I hope I haven't lost my experience writing action sequences, but I still hope you enjoy this either way.

Btw, I hold onto the idea that Nora is his daughter. Just don't want anyone to get surprised :))

~1.2k words, poisoned, laced weapons, scratch marks, paranoia, gunfights, death, implied death.

“Cypher – the dog!”

The warning was too late. Sova looked behind him at where he heard the dog coming from and saw Cypher on his camera. By the time the words left his mouth, Cypher was leaning against the wall, dazed and a little pained.

“Гавно.” Sova muttered to himself as he rushed forward to meet up with him. “Not right now.”

Because they were in the forest, they were now sitting ducks. Cypher was writing on the ground, and the enemy Skye was still nowhere to be found. When he finally got a good look at Cypher’s wound, he could only feel the worry turn into confusion. There were three slash marks across his chest and waist, but it didn’t look deep or all that serious. There was very little bleeding, and the cuts were clean.

It would sting, and Cypher would need some bedrest, but there was no reason for the man to be thrashing around like this. This shouldn’t have been his first time getting hurt or bit by Skye’s dog, but— He noticed stripes of red close to the slash mark. He dug his knife around the thick leather coat and cut the fabric back to reveal more red lines. He’s never seen this sort of wound before, but the discolouration made him think poison.

Sova really didn’t know what to do now. If it was poison, he’d be unable to help other than to wrap the wound in bandages to stop the bleeding. If it wasn’t, then he really didn’t know what was causing this all. But all those panicked thoughts stopped when he heard a single snap of a thin branch. Quick as he could, he whipped out his pistol to point at where the sound came from. The slight green glow caught his eye, and he took aim and shot three bullets.

Three more and the mag would empty. If he could switch to his arrow now, he’d get a few more shots than he would with the sheriff, but that would give her enough time to kill him. And then Cypher would actually be dead. “What did you do to Cypher?”

“Like you really cared about him,” the response came. He once again redirected his aim at where the voice came from. Skye was just as comfortable as he was in a forest, but she had the clear advantage here. He stood over Cypher’s trembling body, trying to ignore the grunts of pain while trying to locate where the woman was.

“I assume I’m next. What did you do with him?”

A shot fired from somewhere in the trees and Sova ducked, noting where the bullet hit the tree. He took aim at where it must’ve come from and shot once. She was playing this smart. If she outright killed Cypher, Sova would be free to hunt her down and fight. By keeping this man alive for now, she could buy herself time to find a way to kill him without his retaliation. Sova at this moment was bound by Brimstone’s trust and the Protocol’s best interests. It was almost like he was back in the military under someone else’s control. Still, he wasn’t going to leave this man to die. Despite his mistrust of the information broker, leaving him to die was out of bounds of his own morals, no matter how much he hated this man.

A hawk came at him and he barely closed his eyes in time to avoid the flash. After he heard the blind pop, he blinked his eyes open to shoot at the first red tuft of hair he could see. He’s had years of training, many missions, and even more time spent with his bow and arrow. Shooting was as natural as breathing. Unfortunately for Skye, shooting just happened to be a recently learned skill.

As the body fell down, he tried to move forward to search it, but something was gripped hard around his ankle. He looked down to see Cypher holding him in a death grip.

“Don’t…” he gritted his teeth as another spasm took over his body and he was gasping for air. “Don’t let me …argh… die here. I have thi…things to do.”

Sova almost rolled his eyes and jerked his foot free.

“Sova!”

He ignored the call to search the body. In one of Skye’s pockets, he picked up a vial with messy handwriting scrawled on a piece of tape. It was emptied, likely recently, and was likely the chemical affecting Cypher right now.

“Box… jelly?” Sova asked, reapproaching Cypher. “Heard of it?”

“Please.”

Sova looked from the glass vial up at him, making eye contact.

“Please… It burns.”

“Relax. I’m not the one that’ll kill you.”

It didn’t stop Cypher from squirming under his hands as he pressed the bandages against the wound to stop the bleeding at the very least.

“Sova… Sova…” His hand was on Sova’s wrist, squeezing hard enough to get him to wince.

It wasn’t until he started digging his fingers into Sova’s bicep that he finally had enough. “Stay down,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “I’m helping you as best I can.”

The fingers didn’t budge though.

“Sova… Please I… I can’t die.”

The breathing was speeding up, not what needed to happen if Cypher wanted a chance at getting out alive.

“Sova, I can’t die, there’s so much to do, they’re not safeyet.”

The reason why Sova didn’t like Cypher had to do with the secrets that the man held. He knew more about Sova’s past than Sova. And it was always that uncertainty, that imbalance of power that Cypher liked to dangle in front of his nose, like raw meat to a wolf, just to pull it away whenever Sova lunged at it. The information broker always reveled in secrets…

…It was only fair. “Who?”

“N-… Nora. I know she’s out there… She must be.”

“Your wife?”

“Daughter. Please, Sova. I need to see her again.”

Do you have a photo? The grudge inside of him whispered in his mind. But the human part, the part that could sympathize…

“Then stay still and let me work.”

“No… I’m…” Cypher struggled around Sova’s arms to hold onto the edge of his cape. If he were not dying, this move would be threatening. As it was, Sova pitied him. “I can’t… I can’t see Sova.”

Sova clenched his jaw. Cypher always hid behind that mask, and as the blue still glowed, he just assumed—

“I’m dying… I can’t die here. Not now.” Cypher was shaking the edges of Sova’s cape, but he was not moved by the weak pulls at his shoulder. “I… no… I can’t…”

Perhaps it’d be better to put him down. At the very least it wouldn’t make as much sound, Sova considered in his head. Still, his sympathy won out.

“Rest, Cypher.” You will not be missed.

Perhaps that was all he needed, or the poison became too much for him to bear. The grip around his shoulders weakened, and the man flopped onto his back, unconscious, and soon, dead. In this state, Sova could at least make a difference. He just needed to reach Sage in time.

The scales of power were evened out, just a little, and Sova needed him alive if he was going to use that to his advantage. He took whatever he could get off of Skye’s body, and slung Cypher over his shoulder. The trek would be long, but if Sova could learn – get the answers he’d waited so long for… Perhaps it’d be worth it.

[free-pancakes]

Dreams and Nightmares

Summary: Canon-Divergence fic

Hange barely survives the final fight against Eren, and is saved by inheriting the Beast Titan from Zeke Yeager in the end. However, the Scouts soon find that this would come with a heavy price--particularly at Levi's expense.

Chapter 3/? Chapter 2 Chapter 1

crossposted to ao3 here: link

Notes: meeeeeep another chapter here ya go

CHAPTER 3

Levi paced back and forth, looking up every so often to stare out at the ocean. He came out to the shore every day this week. Living here on the outskirts of Marley had been pretty jarring, unfamiliar. But the sea was the one thing that brought him at least a little bit of solace. It used to be something quite terrifying to him, but Hange showed him that it wasn’t so bad. She really did have a way of making any situation feel at least a little brighter and a little less hopeless, he thought.

Onyankopon had urged him to relax and not to worry, assuring him that he’d look after Hange for him. Meanwhile, Armin assured him that he deserved to rest and did not need him to help out with his commander duties this week. But Levi knew he wouldn’t be able to rest or relax—how could he?

He held onto what little hope he had—Armin said that Bertholdt’s memories bothered him only a few times, and then they were gone. Maybe it would only be temporary. Levi had scared Jean into telling him a little bit about how Hange was over the past few days, and he mentioned that her biggest concern was that the memories would be enough to cause her to hurt Levi. But Armin had said that his titan shifters memories only ever affected him in his sleep, and the feelings never carried over into action. Again, it made Levi a bit hopeful.

However, his fear that Hange might never recover lingered in the back of his mind—and with that, he still kept that pact he made for himself. If his presence would continue to make her recoil and fall apart as she did that horrible morning, he would leave, so she could live happily. He sighed—he’d find out soon enough if this was the route he’d have to take.

It was just one more day. One more. And he’d find out if…

If he would ever get the chance to hold her again.

That night, Levi tossed and turned even more than usual, so he began wandering the complex in hopes that it would tire him out a bit. But, he soon found himself standing right outside Hange’s door. He stared at the doorknob and reached his hand towards it, and only then did he realize he was shaking from the nerves. Lowering his hand, Levi hung his head and sighed. Before he could walk away, he heard foot steps approach and come to a sudden stop.

“Levi?”

He turned quickly to see Hange standing at the end of the dimly lit hallway, a surprised look on her face. Levi saw her squeeze her eyes shut and grit her teeth, and watched her hands ball into tight fists.

Oh no.

“Hange, I’m sorry, I was going to wait, I swear, please. I’ll go get Jean—“

He paused to wait for an answer, but none came. Instead, Hange came running at full speed towards him, jumping straight into his arms, burying her face into his chest. Levi’s heart raced, afraid to lay a hand on her in the chance that it might frighten her again. But he stared down at her face—her eyes were still squeezed shut, but she seemed okay. He carefully wrapped his arms around her and placed his forehead on the crown of her head.

The subtle scent of coffee and lavender shampoo reached his nose, and like clockwork, Levi felt all the tension in his muscles release.

Hange.

———

Hange held Levi tightly, her mind focused on the feel of him, his rough hands gently rubbing at her back, the smell of his honey-based soap filling her with comfort. The sound of his breaths lulled her into a sense of calm. She squeezed her eyes shut and focused—and it was working!

All week, Armin and Jean had told her to simply relax and rest, but how could she?

Onyankopon shared the same opinion, but he gave in. Hange couldn’t just... lie there. Doing nothing? Preposterous. By her request, he brought her all the Marleyan books and journals he could on memory. And with that, she convinced him to sneak in Annie and Reiner behind Armin and Jean’s back—Hange was that desperate. She only had a week to make progress.

Unfortunately the literature didn’t come with too much more than what she knew already, and she was in a bit too unique of a situation—Annie and Reiner didn’t know their previous titan shifters too well, nor did they have any connection to any of their loved ones. Hange was going in with very little, but she was determined as always. Nothing would stand between her and Levi, not after surviving everything that they did up until now.

She tested different techniques for herself to help rewrite her memories over Zeke’s—essentially focusing on happy memories of Levi along with what she had seen. It was grueling work, she was emotionally wrecked every night that week facing Zeke’s fears again and again, playing it over and over, hoping it would become less menacing with each time she tried. What worked the most for her in the end was closing her eyes and focusing on one object in her hand. For example, she would hold a flower as she sprung herself into remembering Zeke’s fear, honing in on the smoothness of the stem, the softness of the petals, the sweet smell of its nectar. And it calmed her.

And with this trial, it was indeed working. She held Levi and wanted to scream with joy and relief and excitement and a multitude of other feelings she couldn’t even verbalize while hugging her beloved shorty with a clear mind, only her own.

Eventually they both fell tired, as it was the dead of night after all. Hange brought him into the room with her, and patted the bed next to her.

“Hange... are you sure you’re okay with this?” Levi wasn’t so sure this was a good idea.

But with this big victory won, Hange was quite optimistic. She was able to hug him and talk without feeling that same horrid rush of fear and pain like before. And on top of that, she hadn’t had a nightmare since. Dreamless sleep, calm and restful.

It was over, Zeke didn’t have a hold on Levi anymore, and she was grateful.

She gestured Levi to lay next to her once again. But as he put his hand on top of her, she felt a fleeting urge to pull away.

But, she was able to suppress it. She peeked at Levi—he didn’t seem to notice. So, she fit her head right into the crook of his neck, perfectly snug like a final puzzle piece being snapped into place. She focused on his breathing and the sound of his voice nagging her not to drool all over him tonight. She drifted off to sleep, a tiny smile lingering on her lips as he hugged her tight.

———

The sound of ODM gear reeled, echoing into the air. Hange was running through the thick foliage, deep inside a forest. Fear bubbled up inside her and anxiety spread like wildfire all over her skin. Loud thuds echoed through the forest as titans dropped left and right from all sides. She felt the fear increase even more, it’s like she knew only person was taking down all these titans. Oddly enough, the smell of wine also lingered in the air, and Hange wondered why that was.

Suddenly she felt blades slash at her legs, an insane amount of pain zapping through her. She fell, almost in slow motion, and saw the culprit before her eyes.

Levi descended from the trees above, his face showing nothing but determination to kill her. She felt herself wanting to reach her Beast Titan arms forward and strangle him.

——- “Four-eyes!” Levi gasped.

Hange suddenly felt herself holding down Levi under knee, one hand pushing on his throat, and one hand held in a fist in the air, blood dripping over it.

She gasped and saw Levi beneath her, his face bloodied, his eyes wide as he coughed and inhaled sharply.

Hange felt arms grip at her shoulders and pull her back, restraining her.

“Hange! Are you awake?!” Jean yelled.

Hange stared, dumbfounded, trying to make sense of what was happening. Jean figured she wasn’t going to move, and ran for help as Armin stood over Levi trying to keep a compress on his wounds.

Hange felt tears streaming down her face, and she stared down at her hands. She was trembling and her vision was still going in and out of focus. She saw the color red all over her hands, and some splattered over her shirt. She stared at Armin who stood above Levi laying in bed, asking him if he could hear him. Her eyes glazed over the floor, a smashed mug and coffee over the floorboards.

Hange slowly put everything together. But the worst part of it was, Levi easily could have overpowered her—but he probably tried to figure out a way to wake her up without hurting her. He took the beating just so she’d go unscathed.

Jean ran in with Onyankopon and they came to check on Levi while Hange slowly backed out of the room. And then, she ran.

Zeke’s memories had a stronger hold on her than she had thought—one simple dream was a enough to set her off in real life. And it was her fault. Why did she let him sleep next to her? She scolded herself, wondering why she could have been so selfish.

More tears welled up in her eyes and she ran outside, and collapsed on her hands and knees, right onto the grass. She let out a scream and cried out—her worst fear about all of this had come true.

She hurt Levi, and she’d never forgive herself for it.

[sleepdeprivedqueer]

So, since I have been getting back into Red Dead Redemption, I went ahead and made myself an oc. At some point, I will get the pic of my online character. But I dont know when that will be, but I shall try my best to describe her for a fanfic.

Name: Michelle Iris

Birth town: Tumbleweed, New Austin

Parents: unknown

A supppsed to be father figure: Flaco Hernandez

Gang: Del Lobos/Dutch Van Der Linde

Height: 5'3

Weight: 146 lbs

Age: 24

Hair length: To her breast

Hair color: Dark brown/some points black

Horse: A blue roan Missouri Fox Trotter mare named Splash

Body type: Curvy but has a little bit of added thickness to her tummy, ass and thighs.

Winter clothing: A black leather jacket that buttons on the side with a blue, purple, and whitr poncho wrapled around her shoulders. Leather fingerless gloves, normal pants with knee high boots.

Spring like weather (Like the Heartlands and Big Valley): A gray leather jacket that buttons on the side, same leather fingerless gloves, normal pants and knee high boots. Or a plain white shirt without buttons wearing a black leather long jacket over it, pants, same boots, sleeves rolled up with the gloves.

Summer like clothing: A red or white shirt with any vest that she has, sleeves rolled up.

Pistols: Two blue and gold Volcanic pistols.

Main rifle: Bolt Action.

Main repeater: Lanchester.

Main Shotgun: Pump Action.

Hat(s): A sombrero and then a normal western white leather hat.

Any close members in the gang: Héctor Secada.

Personality: Playful, tease, curious, caring, supportive, is that one friend who is everybody's therapist, loyal, protective, trusting, anxious, that one person who will try to earn respect, one scary noise and she is out of there, or she will try to fight the person, creature, thing, or ghost, maybe even a ghost, seductive.

Hobbies: Sight seeing, exploring, night trail rides and or early morning/sunset trail rides.

Favorite place on the map: Big Valley.

Past story: A runaway from Tumbleweed who ended up killing three Del Lobos, brutally. Getting trapped inside a barn after a group of Del Lobos found her blood covered bodies and the hellish bloody bodies. A member of the group, Héctor, watched her, befriended her, and then convinced thr group to let her go. Not fully but to keep her free but she needed to stay at the ranch. But her acts weren't forgotten and she would be called a witch or 'devils daughter'. Her and Héctor got enough to get two horses, him a brindle buckskin Missouri Fox Trotter stallion and her a blue roan Missouri fox trotter mare. After a year, the two had to be seperated, Héctor needing to go back to Mexico. Michelle being moved up to the mountains with some others to the leader's, Flaco, camp. After being pushed around by them and Flaco ignoring her, she tried to prove herself only to fail at any attempt. It wasn't until she overheard Flaco talking about the near by bears and went to take care of them herself. It didn't go as planned, and got a long slash on her back, being heavily yelled at by Flaco infront of the others, them getting a good laugh out of it. Being tired of trying, after her back was healed, she packed what little things she had and left one night. The next day she found a injured man that was attacked by wolves.

And that's when the story picks up, it is gonna be a Javier Escuella x oc, the man needs lots of love. I will try my best to keep the characters in character, I do not own anyone except my oc, the idea of Héctor, and that's about it. Everything else belongs to Rockstar. I don't know how much or what days I will update, I have been busy these past few weeks with things such as family matters. But I will try, this story will not be light hearted, there will be sex jokes, death, gore, thoughts and talk of sex, murder, basically the game. So it will be for mature readers, I hope any of the readers that read it that you will enjoy it. That's all, have a goodnight, or a good rest of the day. Bye!

[crimsonfluidessence]

Prompt 21: Feckless

Content Warning: Torture, Intense Psychological Warfare, Body Harm, Physical and Emotional Abuse It was just supposed to be getting his money back. That was all he wanted out of the woman. But oh, how quickly it had turned to seeing some of the purest forms of red Esredes was capable of seeing. Being pickpocketed in Ul'dah was to be expected to happen eventually- inconvenient that it occurred while he was trying to get supplies for his family, but just a detour to follow the woman into a more secluded space and request his money back. No big deal. He had his ability to cloak himself with an illusion, and so she didn't see him following her down past that door behind the Miner's guild and into an alley. He watched her begin to count his money with a smile on her face and a whisper of "Oh, yes." Just a common pickpocket. No need to escalate anything. "All right, little lady." He began, the illusion still disguising him, causing the woman to freeze and look around trying to locate his voice. Just to make it worse, he began pacing all around to make it more confusing as he spoke next. "Cute. Real cute little move you pulled back there, but I have places to be and so do you, no? Just give it back without trying anything and I'll leave. I'd rather not have anything unpleasant happen today now." "Who are you and what little move?" The woman hissed and tightened her hold on his gil pouch. "Don't play dumb with me, ma'am. Give me my gil back, please. Just toss it out in front of you." "This? Mine from the start," she retorted as she closed it up and put it away, then dashed past him and tried to run away. Esredes raised his hand up and fired a pink beam at the retreating woman's head without a second thought. The woman cursed sharply and she doubled back as her balance faltered, sliding a dagger out of her pocket to slash at the air. "What the hell are you?" With ease, Esredes moved behind her and rammed his sword handle into her upper back. She grunted and stumbled forward, then fell to the ground, the dagger clattering on the stone a good two feet away. She didn't get much time to struggle to get up before he knelt down and pinned her body under his legs, his sword arm securing her at the back as well. "For fuck's sake, Priya." The woman muttered under her breath as she found herself trapped. "Someone who wanted to mind his own fucking business and ask you nicely not to waste our time." Esredes finally answered her question as he retrieved the gil pouch from her pocket. The woman tried to fight back under his weight, but she was getting nowhere. She lashed a hand out to bat him away from her pocket, but Esredes lengthened his hand to form claws and slashed at it, and she tucked it back inside herself as he pushed down more with his sword. "You know, is it not a rule of thievery to fold it when you've bitten off more than you could chew? You'd do best to learn it." "As if you'd know," she spat out. "Leave me alone; it isn't like you'd need any of it!" "I was completely content to leave you alone before you pickpocketed me, thank you very much. And you don't know anything about me, little lady, so fuck off with that. You're not giving me any incentive to not report you right about now- what did you call yourself? Priya? Pretty name for a vicious little rat," Esredes remarked. "If you've eyes, this city doesn' do handouts." Esredes paused, her reply passing him over. Priya... why did the woman's name sound faintly familiar? Enough to bug him even through his tendency to forget names? It had to mean something, be from somewhere, but he didn't know a lot of people from Ul'dah... But someone he had interacted with a lot recently did, and... Esredes' eyes widened. Yes, it had been Elouan who mentioned that name to him during their most recent therapy session. The name of an ex of his who had beaten him for not making her enough money. Just a common pickpocket. Now she was also the woman who hurt his sunflower. "...Say, you must do this a lot, hm? Trying to get your way into money by any scummy means possible? Do you remember Elouan?" Priya froze at Elouan's name, but soon shifted into a smile that did not ease Esredes in the slightest. "Elouan? Dumber than a rock? What, isn't he dead?" "My gods," Esredes said. So it was true. This was the same woman and not a coincidence. The black heart in his chest pulsed hard, and dark, inky matter quickly spread through his insides. He moved his sword hand up and hit her on the side of the head with its handle. "I thought you were a simple thief, but no, you truly are a disgusting little parasite under there, aren't you? Shut the fuck up about handouts, I know what this city is, but you don't deserve them even if they existed. I show no sympathy towards an exploitative and manipulative abusive little monster like you. Oh, today is not going to be your day, little monster lady." He never did change his other hand back down- in its full display of rough and leathery skin she couldn't see, he wrapped it around her throat and pressed lightly. "Have you any idea how much you have to answer for?" Priya let out a soft noise and struggled much more aggressively now, clawing at the leathery hand with her own. "Hh--Answer? I'm answering to nothing. Call me what you want, I don't care. If you're calling me a monster, what're you?" With no eyes to find, she couldn't make eye contact, but she still shot quite the devilish look. "So he isn't dead, is he? Such a shame; I thought the 'yotes outside of Ul'Dah got him! It wasn't like he was worth much with the bets..." The inky matter only kept spreading. "He's worth far more than your pathetic, greedy little ass will ever be. But you wouldn't know anything about the worth of people because all they are to you is an ends for money, hmm?" He drew a line of blood across her throat. "I should fucking kill you. No one would be around to even notice your corpse or look for you, would they, hmm?" The woman laughed, even despite the pain. "You should? What's stopping--? No, who's stopping you? Elouan? That dumbass? Have you ever seen him come back from a loss down there? Do you know what it's like to not have any gil? Anything?" She spat at him and continued trying to fight, but his grip remained iron. "Shut the fuck up." Esredes ran his blade lightly across her forehead. She moved her hands to the ground and tried propelling herself up, but she couldn't even upset his balance. "To answer your question? Yes, I do. That's no fucking excuse to beat a man up who is willing to mutilate himself and risk his life for a woman who doesn't even consider him above maggots. He loved you because he didn't know better, didn't want to accept the evils of people, and you felt nothing." Her body tensed up and her eyes became even more hostile. "You don't have anything, no, a heart or any redeeming qualities included. You're a street rat who deserves to writhe in filth, because no part of you deserves even a single piece of gil! And to answer your other question?" He decided now was time to flicker back into existence before her eyes, his pupils compressed to slivers and sharp teeth grinning as he leaned in close to her face. "Well, if no one will find the body, I suppose nothing at all is stopping me, hm?" "He wasn't worth it. You're all talk and you still hesitate," she snickered at him. "You're still hesitating because of him, aren't you? Because you're just as weak. He wasn't fit to live long, y'know. Probably still isn't, too." "Oh, I'm not hesitating because I'm weak," Esredes smiled and pressed back hard against her struggle attempt with his sword and body, leaning even further in. "I'm hesitating because you're not getting off that easy after all you've done." He pressed harder on her throat and dug his thumb claw into it harder. "We're only getting started here. No one has made you answer for what you've done to him, and I am so glad we could meet for the occasion, unexpected as it is. Tell me, do you think you look good in red?" There was barely the shape of a creature below him by this point, just red. He ran his claws down her face, he ran his blade down both of her arms, he slapped her, all while taunting her about what a pathetic creature she was. "Get OFF," she soon shouted. "Oh, I'm sorry, you want me off?" His eyes widened for her. "Did you listen when Elouan asked you that, hmm?! Did you stop hitting him for things that were your fucking fault?!" She bit her lip and clenched her fists, shaking. "My fault? Who was the one that lost bets? Who was the one that just had to stop because it was 'too much'? Me? No; it was him!" There was venom in her words, and a lot of it. "One hit wasn't enough for him and you know that, don't you? You have to keep drilling it into his fuckin' head. He couldn't even find his way to the aetheryte even if he was fifteen fulms from the thing!" Esredes almost couldn't believe the things coming out of this rodent's mouth. "You're fucking disgusting. And wrong, on top of that." He hit her with his sword handle again. "No, your problem is that you're an impatient, selfish little aggressive piece of shit. If you actually had an ounce of patience and kindness that wasn't faked to all hell, you'd know the man can listen and learn quite fine if you explain it to him well enough. But you're not capable of that because you're not smart enough for such things and you don't actually bother to learn a thing about how people actually work. Maybe if you had the consideration outside of yourself for it, you wouldn't be stuck here pickpocketing people like a street rat, hm? People don't bend over for vicious worthless scheming selfish lowlives like yourself. You will never get anywhere in life. You cry so fucking much about how you have nothing, but in all your years of exploiting and robbing people, you still have absolutely nothing. I don't think you have anyone to blame but yourself at that point. You will die filthy, worthless, and alone, and no one is going to miss the dirt on the side of the street. Now, how many hits will it take for you to get it into your head, hm?" He punched her once. Twice. Three times. Four times. The last punch managed to make her wheeze, and she shut her eyes. "When is ever enough for you?!" "...enough," she said at last. "Enough!" His fist was raised for another blow, but he grinned at hearing the word out of her. "Ah. She did it. She is capable of having enough." He laughed for a solid few seconds. "For the first time in your life, something is enough. How does it feel, hm?" She wrinkled her nose, and tried to muster one last kick, but couldn't even. She said nothing, reaching up to try and pull his hand off her with trembling hands. Esredes took her hand and held it up by the wrist, staring at it. "Look at it. So weak, so small, so pathetic. If you'd held on to someone like Elouan and actually loved him, he'd protect you from something like this, you know. As is, you're not strong enough to protect or help yourself alone. And you never will be. You're a cold, vulnerable little lady in a harsh world, and your only response is to make it so your own existence has no justification for itself."

He wasn't done. He wasn't anywhere near done yet. He kept on going, tearing into her with more wounds. He even took his little pair of scissors he used to cut his emergency supply of gauze and cut away at her hair.  She kept helplessly trying to fight back, kept trying to scream at him to stop or go away. "I'm not going anywhere yet, little lady." He eventually said, grinning as he ran a clawed finger down her face. It was gentle enough not to draw blood, and she shivered under it. "Because I am your nightmare, I am the harbinger that comes for naughty little ladies who need to be a taught a lesson about the cruelty of their own heart." He then slapped her again, and continued cutting her hair. "You want to be a cruel and heartless beast to people who don't deserve it? Well, tell me, is it worth it? Is it worth it to sit here trapped in a reflection of your own cruelty and be content to bleed out in the darkness?" "Why should I talk about worth with you?" The venom and bite of her words had gone; she no longer had the energy for it, it seemed. It wasn’t long before she even started producing tears in her eyes. "Aww," Esredes said in a low, mocking voice. "Does the beast want to cry now? Cry like you made Elouan do countless times? It didn't mean a damn thing to you. Your tears are nothing to me." “I don’t care,” she said in a low and rough voice. "Don't care about you 'n what you say." "Then why are you crying?" "I'm not crying." Tears were treading down her cheeks. "Lady, look at your own goddamn face. You can't even hold it in. Is this too much for the poor little snake to handle, hmm? You're breaking this easily? And to think, Elouan survived multiple beatings from you, and you can't even handle this. Who's supposed to be the weak one again?" "Just shut up!" She croaked in a broken voice. "Shut up! This is pointless! Leave me alone. You've got what you wanted. You've gotten more than what you wanted already," even when she shut her eyes, the tears did not stop. "This is not enough." Venom dripped into his voice. "This is nothing to what you did to him. You can wish for it to stop all you want, but that never helped him, and it's not going to help you, either. Cry all you want, it only makes this all the sweeter. You get everything that you deserve." "He's just another pet of the sands, don't you see?“ The woman said through her shaky voice. "I thought I'd be better with more than what the trade offered. I couldn't start off without--without that." "And? And? That gives you free reign to crush his heart and body for not doing every little thing perfectly for you? When this man was willing to give you all of his love and torment himself far too much for you? You know, pickpocketing a man with a voice like mine? Fair enough, I know what city I walked into. But that? That as your excuse to be cruel in pursuit of money? No. No. Here, little lady. Answer me one little thing. Do you do all of this alone, in the true sense? Do you ever have a person to your name who isn't a tool you discard?" She finally opened her eyes again, staring at her hair on the ground. "Alone? Why'd I do it with anyone else? We're all just tools for anyone else to use--you either climb the ladder or get stuck in the lion's den. He was--he was too fuckin' much! His whining, his talking, his forgetfulness. All I wanted was gil for myself 'n business. Not the thing behind it." It wasn’t every day Esredes held true evil in his hands, trapped in his talons like a snake to an eagle. But hearing her twisted explanation only further caused his heart to rage in hatred. "Good. Fucking. Lord." He said. "People like you are the kind I despise the most. Your entire philosophy is so fucking stupid at its core, and all of you claim it's the most intelligent thing ever. I'll tell you a little story. I too have had absolutely nothing at multiple points in my life." On he went snipping her hair as he talked. "Do you know how you get away from having absolutely nothing? Yes, you have to have sharp skills of self reliance and the ability to climb out yourself, but you can only get so far on your own. You need, and I mean truly need, other people in order to truly build yourself up past a certain point. This is why types like you either never make it or end up dead eventually when someone else brings you down. You only make your own life harder by approaching people so selfishly without anything to add to it. People will see right through you, they'll tear you apart without sympathy or mercy, because you don't offer anything to last with people beyond the short term. If you don't blow everything in the short term with other people, and they aren't people like you, you get rewarded for being good to them. People are more willing to help you out of bad situations without you needing to do a thing because they remember when you were there for them, therefore becoming much more viable and sustainable than a one time deal you blow and suffer the consequences. You really think the world is going to bend to your greedy little will because you want money? No. It won't. It doesn't fucking care, and you know this. Lady, I don't know why I have to be the one telling you this with how smart you think you are, but here's a simple lesson on how people work. People talk. People complain. People forget things. People are not perfect little devices for you to drain gil out of, they are incomplete and flawed things trying their best. And people aren't very useful if you can't follow the basic law of economics and make a fair trade. You'd think growing up here, you'd understand this. Now, my point is, I was alone with nothing. And now? I have enough that you don't want to know the number of people who fear me, little lady. I didn't get this way by draining gil out of people like a vampire. I had to give something of myself, I had to sacrifice, I had to bleed for other people first, but people don't forget what you do for them, or to them. Each person you meet is a powerful weapon in their own right, a valuable resource beyond just money they make. And only a fool would discard such power. You're just a weak, stupid little thief who will never make it because you don't even understand what it takes to get out of your situation. You'll forever be in the den because you fall off the ladder every single time. There is a place to be vicious, there is a place to be kind. But you wouldn't know the difference if it held you down and punched you repeatedly in the face. I truly hope you never make it in life. The world doesn't need more people like you. Your kind can only drain the world of its resources and make it a worse place, all while declaring that the world is the evil one. Well have you ever fucking thought of being something that isn't so deserving of the world's evils? Because here you are now, bleeding out and crying, while Elouan is somewhere safe, having escaped, and is much happier because he's with people who appreciate his kindness for what it is. You have nothing for others to see. No one will ever lift you up off of here, because you'll never, ever deserve it." The woman laid there and absorbed his verbal blows, still too weak to fight back in any way. Tears still streamed down her face. "So what if I don't deserve it? I don't care. I don't care, I don't want to care, I just--" "You just what, lady? What is it? What is it you want to scream out right about now?" Priya gritted her teeth and out came a strangled cry. "--I don't want to be here. I don't want people around me or in m'life. I don't want anyone close to me! I don't want to be hurt like I've hurt them. I just want to be.  Be dead? Fuckin' fine, do it already!“ "Is that seriously all you want from life? To be alone with money?" "What else? Money can't hurt me like they could." "Wow." Esredes said. "Just wow. You know, popular sayings exist for a reason. People who are alone with money are some of the people most likely to drink themselves or take drugs into dying. I grew up in Ishgard. Everyone in the noble circle has money and guess what? We're all still fucking miserable and want to die, broken empty shells of people. People still treat you like trash and shit no matter how nice you look and how perfectly polite your tone is. You still die empty and unfulfilled and ultimately meaningless. ...But you know this in some capacity, don't you?" He leaned down close to her face again, and she shut her eyes. "Is it not just because you want this to stop that you keep trying to taunt me into ending you, hmm? Are you sick enough of festering in your own shallow existence that you want to just spare the world the burden of you?" “You already know the answer, don’t you? I’ve got nothin’ to my name or kin! Why keep me around if that’s all I have, aye?” "Exactly. There's no reason at all." He smiled. "If I gave you your dagger back, would you be able to do it, hmm?" Priya kept sniffling. She opened her eyes and they landed on her dagger, past the scraps of her hair. "It'd be the one good thing you ever do in your life." He continued on. "You'd finally give back to the world, as your corpse decays and the nutrients can be absorbed to go to things more deserving of them..." “Stop talking,” she mumbled yet again. But Esredes only grinned. "Just think about it. No more waking up in pursuit of your empty desires. No more pickpocketing and feeding on scraps. Just the sweet embrace of nothing washing over you, finally an end to all the suffering. You won't be weak anymore. You won't have to feed for more, and more, and more... you will finally have enough." “I said stop.” "You'll never make it. So why keep trying? You're not smart enough to make it, you're not clever enough. You don't have what it takes. All you'll ever do is prolong your own agony, stuck in the same cycle, over and over and over... is that really a worthwhile existence?" “Stop it! Stop talking! I’ve enough of this and, gods, just stop.” The woman managed to shout, but it so quickly became shaky, weak, and small once more. "You keep telling me to stop because you know I'm right. You just don't want to admit it." He took the final strands of her hair and positioned the scissors around them. "One moment, you're here, writhing in your own filth, and the next..." Snip. She hissed. "Release. Catharsis. Nothing." He held the hair out to her to look at. "See, you have a golden opportunity. No one cares about you. No one will notice if you die. You have no burdens tying you down to this earthy plane, you can release yourself like a balloon and fly. Wouldn't that be so wonderful, to see the sky...?" “I won’t see shite,” she retorted with certainty, stretching her arm to try and reach the dagger, only for Esredes to move it further away with a rock. "Alas," he said. "If you do it later, I won't stop you- but for right now, it's not time yet.” He threw the hair to scatter about the tunnel. “All this talk for not yet? Bullshite!” "You're not deserving of a quick death, dearest. No one with a heart as cold and empty as yours is." It would still be some time before he finally let her go. Tied up and unable to escape the tunnel with that pouch of opioids on her- a perfect trapped creature for the local authorities of Ul’dah to pick up. It was not enough. He couldn’t make it enough no matter how little he held back, and he knew it. Nothing would make up for what she did to his beloved Elouan. He would never completely understand the local parasites of the world that pretended to be human like her. Why were they all so content to live a destructive life focused only on themselves? Were they so wrapped up in themselves they couldn’t notice how boring they were, how little and shallow of an existence it was? They would go on, intimidating or charming those around them to feed their selfish empire- but at their core, they were weak nothings, and Esredes saw them for what they were. “Sorry, it was very crowded at the market today. I couldn’t get everything.” Esredes said to his parents later. “I’ll get it all in the morning before I leave. It should be much easier to navigate…” ——— @shieldbcund Priya, Elouan

[ladyhallen]

Never Count the Cost

Read on AO3| FFN

It was hopeless.

The Death Eaters numbers weren’t going down. And maybe they were, but not visibly, not enough. Kill one Death Eater, and five more would take their place.

Hermione had given people new, more destructive spells and Ron’s strategies were getting more and more geared towards mass destruction. But it wasn’t good enough.

It shot down morale and everyone was getting desperate.

Harry was getting desperate.

She’d asked Kreacher, which was the start of a series of bad decisions.

Kreacher knew the Black Library better than anyone, and gave Harry a book bound in questionable leather.

Harry took one look at the book, and felt her skin crawl. She decided not to ask the house-elf questions.

“Thank you, Kreacher,” she said.

She read the book when it was supposed to be her turn to be sleeping, and lost her appetite at the horrifying and terrible rituals that the book had. She was pale and unhappy reading the rituals.

Still she found one. One ritual among hundreds that suited her purpose. A ritual to “Summone a Moste Powerful and Chaotic Monstere.”

Harry read it dozens of times, memorized the words and knew the sacrifice.

Desperation and bad decisions led her to the forest with a stone floor. She had left a note with Dean, hopefully, it would stall her friends.

Her hands remained determinedly steady even as she carved the damned sigils on the floor with an enchanted knife. Her hand slipped at one point and bloodied the runes on the floor. She paid it no mind, bandaging her hand and continuing again. She didn’t dare use magic until the ritual was complete and she broke the circle. She endured her throbbing hand and at one point forgot about it, she was so focused on getting it right.

She took a deep breath and started the chant, just as Hermione and Ron sprinted into the clearing.

But Harriet had already started, the words coming out of her mouth frosty and hot in turns, some words tumbling out as heavy as a boulder, others coming out quickly and speedily like an eel.

Ron stopped Hermione, more aware than her about the dangers of interrupting a ritual.

“…in sumptus vitae meae,” she finished with a shout, slamming her hands on the sigils firmly, smearing it with blood. At one point, she had started to bleed from her injured hands.

“Harry, no!” Hermione screamed, held back by Ron’s hands on her shoulders. Of course, her friend could understand the Latin.

Smoke started rising from the blood and sigils, and from that smoke, something with tall with horns emerged.

Harry would be panicking, except she had gone so far from panic that she’d circled around to glassy calm. She’d be hyperventilating later.

If there was a later.

“At the cost of your life, huh,” a lovely, deep voice said inside the circle. “That’s a very interesting payment.”

The smoke cleared, and standing inside the circle was a man. Or as close to a man as a demon could get. His horns were long and curled back, the points curling at the tips and shining a dull red. His eyes shone yellow and his teeth were very sharp. His feet were cloven hooves and covered in shaggy fur, with a tail that flicked as he stood.

And his face. Harry instinctively shied away from looking at his too perfect, too beautiful face.

“Whatever is your trouble, lovely summoner?” the demon asked.

“Me and my people are at war,” she said, as boldly as she could manage. “And I am willing to pay anything for you to help us win.”

The demons beautiful face started to smile, a slash of a terrible smile on an otherwise inhumanly beautiful face.

“Break the circle, dear one. And I will seal the contract with you. You’ve already given me such lovely blood,” he whispered, a hypnotic ring in his voice.

Harry found herself moving despite Hermione and Ron’s shouts in her ears. She broke the circle with the knife still in her hand and the demon stepped out.

As he did, there was a ripple in the world like an invisible curtain, and the goats feet, horns and tail vanished. In his place was a man.

Still beautiful, but no longer inhumanly so. Enough of a change that she could look at his face without feeling that otherworldly aura.

“I am a chaos demon,” he declared. “And we seal these things with a kiss.”

The glassy calm broke, and Harry managed to squeak out, “What?” before the demons lips were on hers and she was consumed by the best kiss she’d ever had, all heat and passion.

After a minute, he pulled away and smiled at her dazed face.

“Stay here, my bride,” he said.

Harry crumpled to the forest floor and her best friends rushed to her, holding her hands and touching her shoulders. Hermione looked seconds away from crying. Ron looked like he wanted to wrap her up in bubble wrap.

“He just called me bride,” Harry managed weakly. “What just happened?”

Ron gave a tired huff into her neck, hugging her almost desperately.

Hermione gave an exhausted sigh.

“Harry,” she began slowly. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but I think a chaos demon just propositioned you.”

When Harry whined pathetically, Ron started to give little huffs of hysterical laughter.

.

.

The three of them staggered into Hogwarts, holding onto each other for support as well as comfort.

For Harry, she needed the help. The ritual took almost all of her magic. If she were a weaker witch, she would be dead.

“Ms. Potter,” Professor McGonagall said grimly. “Something has changed the battlefield.”

They looked into Hermione’s Seeing Mirrors, and Harry tried not to cringe at the sight of the stylishly dressed demon just. Walking and causing immense destruction with just a gesture.

It was one thing to know you’d summoned a monster, and another thing to see said monster in action.

“Oops,” she managed. “I guess he was more effective than I thought.”

That caught everyone’s attention.

“You did this? At what cost, Harry?” Neville asked.

Harry gave a wan smile, and he inhaled in understanding. Before he could open his mouth, the chaos demon came strolling back, hands in its pockets and a very cheery smile on its mouth.

“My bride,” he said. “I have killed all the leaders and destroyed their souls and happiness. I will, of course, wait for a week to see if they reform. After that, we will marry.”

“Ex-cuse me what?” Seamus said loudly. The noise of a couple hundred students causing chaos was defeaning.

The demon picked her up like she weighed like nothing and carried her off.

.

.

Harry thought the demon would eat her soul. Or even just eat her, she hadn’t thought demons were picky about corporeality.

Nowhere does cuddling factor into it. Or hand feeding her grapes while making encouraging noises. Somehow, her fear just…went away when he was holding fruit to her mouth.

“You are too skinny,” he said, looking at her critically. “You must eat more.”

Uhm, no? They were at war…had been at war. Rationing was a thing. Still a thing while they solve the food issue because the first thing the Death Eaters had targeted were the Hogwarts Farms.

“If I eat more,” she explained to the demon currently holding her in his lap. “Then the children will eat less.”

He pouted. “And these….children…are important to you?” At her nod, he added, “then I will get you more food.”

He vanished for an hour, and returned with an entire freaking passel of pigs. Harry felt her mouth drop open.

“You will eat more?” he asked, like he hadn’t just solved their food problems for the next few weeks. If the keep some female alive and one or two boars, they can even keep some pigs for livestock and feed the entire school for years.

“Sure,” she said weakly. “I’ll eat.”

He looked so immeasurably smug that she wanted to hit him.

.

.

Outside the repaired grassy knoll beside the Great Lake, Harry enjoyed the rare sunshine and the lovely view of the lake.

Well. She tried to.

“Harry,” Hermione whispered. “Can I see the ritual you used?”

Harry had no qualms about that. Just. There was a chaos demon sleeping on her legs and she couldn’t move, or make much noise.

“Ask Kreacher,” she whispered back. “I don’t think I’m moving anytime soon.”

The chaos demon, who still hadn’t given his name – that was bothering her, hugged her thighs tighter, his face on her stomach. Harry oofed, leaning back to be more comfortable.

“Get me a book?” she asked her friend. “I’m stuck.”

Hermione looked bemused and handed over The Hobbit.

Harry, who actually hadn’t read the book yet, found herself combing her fingers through the demon’s hair as she read. Eventually, the heat of the sun and the cool wind combined with the firm weight on her stomach made her fall asleep, the book falling on her face.

Unseen to her, the demon’s tail flicked with pleasure.

.

.

A week filled with trials and burials later, she finally broke.

“What’s your name?” she asked. Hermione, opposite her in the sofa, crossed her arms frantically. Well, too bad for her, but Harry was tired of these unsaid things.

“It’s Reborn,” he rumbled. “And you are Harriet.”

Something about the way he said her name made her shiver.

“Yeah,” she said. “Why didn’t you eat my soul?”

He slow blinked at her. “That was not what you offered. You offered me your life. Not your death, or your soul, or even your blood and bone. Just your life. Obviously, in order for me to partake of your life, you have to be alive.”

“You are…feeding off me?” she asked.

“No,” he huffed. “I am experiencing it with you.”

Ron choked. “Isn’t that just marriage?” he coughed. His face was red. Harry’s own face was steadily going red.

The de – Reborn nodded. “I know! It surprised everyone too. It was so forward.”

Harry covered her beet red face and groaned.

.

.

Reborn had to leave on some business. According to him, paperwork originated in hell and it was needlessly complicated. If he delayed further to log his contract with her, he’d have to fill out an extra fifty forms.

He kissed her very thorougly, rendering her stupid for a minute, before leaving.

Hermione then pounced, explaining what went wrong. Thank Merlin for Hermione, the lack of explanation reason was driving her crazy.

“You read it wrong,” she said. “And a good thing you did. Though how on earth you read ‘animae’ as ‘vitae’, I wonder. It saved your life.”

Harry blinked at the horrific ritual book and sighed. “I was reading it sleep deprived and at one point, I think I was starting to hallucinate?”

“You and your luck, Harry,” Hermione said. “And did I scold you yet for summoning a chaos demon?”

Harry felt her everything tense up. “…No,” she cringed.

She prepared for a lecture mostly done in yelling. She was braced for it.

Except Hermione hugged her tightly instead. “Thank you,” her dearest friend whispered.

Harry felt unintentionally teary. “For you and Ron? I would do it again,” she said into the bushy mane.

They both took a moment to compose themselves.

“So,” Hermione said in that tone that by long association, made Harry feel dread. Hermione only ever used that voice when she was being a little shit. “The chaos demon didn’t proposition you. You propositioned him first.”

“Oh my god,” Harry groaned. “You’re never gonna let this go, are you?”

She gave Harry such a look of mischief. “Never. I thought you were going to die, Harriet Potter. I’m going to say this to your wedding, and to all your birthdays.”

Thank Merlin that she was still alive to have birthdays.

She complained to Hermione just for the spirit of it, but was just as glad.

[nightowlfandom]

I’m a Bad, Bad Man- AU! Criminal! Levi Ackerman X Detective! Reader (Part 1)

I blacked out while writing this...it get's crazy.

So this mini series will have mentions of death, blood, murder, smut, smut with a criminal, mentions of gangs. A. LOT. OF. VIOLENCE. This isn't for the faint of heart...so with all that said, please proceed with caution. I will even include a read more break just incase you don't want to read it all.

Leggo!

...

You lazily wiped the stray hairs off your forehead as you finished typing up your monthly reports. The life of a private investigator has it's ups and downs. This was definitely a down. Super fucking boring.

"Another case closed." you smiled tiredly at yet another victory. There was a reason Y/N L/N was considered the best of the best. "Time for me to-"

You were about to sit back and take a small break when the door to your office slowly opened. A woman walked in, looking as if she saw a ghost and was trying to convince herself she hadn't. You instantly straightened up and put on your professional front. "Can I help you miss?"

"You're Detective L/N, right?" she asked. "Please forgive me, the front desk man said I could walk in."

"Not a problem at all. Who are you?"

"Miya Johnson. I'm sorry Detective, I didn't call in advance. I just didn't know where else to go."

... (Read more below the cut)

"Please, call me Y/N. Have a seat." you immediately unlocked your phone, tapping away at it's screen without breaking eye contact with the woman. You opened up the recording app and readied yourself for what was to come. The woman silently sat down across from you, fidgeting with her fingers. This was normal for new clients. "I hope you don't mind, I always record sessions so I can listen later."

"That's fine." she nodded.

"Good." you had to put up a tough front, it made your job easier. You hit 'record' and went into action. "What seems to be the problem?" Your eyes darted down to the filing folder that seemed to be filled beyond it's capacity. "Take your time, this is a safe place."

"I have reason to believe my dear husband was...murdered." she choked.

"I'm sorry to hear that." you expressed. "Can I ask when the last time you saw him was?"

"Last Friday around 9:30."

"So you cam confirm the last time you saw your husband was last Friday at 9:30." you repeated, just to make sure you heard right.

"Yes. He kissed me goodbye to go to work around 6:00 AM, came back around 9:00 at night with this scared look on his face, told me he loved me and that he'd be back, but he didn't." she seemed eerily calm speaking, but you nodded along. She was probably trying to keep it in. "About four hours later I got from the police telling me a body was found next to the Sleeping Dogs Night Club! It turned out to be his!"

"Miss, excuse my rudeness, but are you sure foul play wasn't involved."

"No, Detective. With all due respect, I have reason to believe he was a target." she held her folder up. "I went through a lot to get these."

"Explain." you raised an eyebrow.

She slid the folder across the table over to you. "He was found with not one, not two, but five bullet wounds, multiple slashes, not to mention several bruises around his neck and arms." her voice cracked. You could tell she was trying to mirror your actions, but couldn't. It was too much. "He was also found with something carved into his right thigh."

You opened the folder to find several pictures of said accident. "Where did you get these?"

"I took a few pictures with my camera when the officers weren't looking." she confessed. "They were telling me it was nothing more than an accident, but even I know that's bullshit."

She was right, this wasn't some random accident. Ever detail down to the area of which his body was found screamed 'routine'.

"So you launched an investigation of your own." you looked up at her. Of course you couldn't blame her. Officers in this town were about as useful as wasps without stingers. You looked back down and flipped through the photos. She was right, exactly as she had described. Her husbands body had bullet wounds in several places, bruises that looked like they had been made in the same place, slashes that looked as if they were meant to symbolize claw marks.

The last photo was a close up of said symbol.

"Why were you at the club?" you looked up again.

"I had gotten a call saying I was needed. I work in forensics. The minute they realized it was my husband's they tried to get me to go home."

You immediately spotted the holes in her story, but went along with it. You weren’t a stranger to stories that didn’t make sense at first, so you didn’t hold it against her. "So at the time when you were called in, you had no idea your husband was dead?"  

"Yes, Detective."

"What happened when you realized it was your husband?"

"They tried to tell me to go home and that they'd get someone else."

"Okay, but you said he came home at 9:00, care to elaborate?”

“I tried to get him to stay. He always had a problem with getting...involved in things. A small argument broke out and that’s when he left, saying he’d be back.”

Obviously this was a result of gang related affairs but there was definitely something this woman wasn’t saying. “Okay, I’ll take your case.”

“Thank you Detective!” she breathed in relief. “I just want answers.”

“And I’m gonna get them. I’m going to give you my work phone. You find anything, you call me.” you grabbed a sticky note and scribbled your number across the square piece of paper. “If you talk to Ryan at the front desk, he’ll take you to our personal scientist to study your pictures close up.” you handed over the folder. “I’ll take over the investigation from here.”

... (Le Time Skip)

You first thought was to go straight for the Sleeping Dogs Night Club, undercover of course.

Your driver had opened the door for you to step out. You pulled at the hem of your dress as you stood up straight. You had to look the part and that meant dressed like you had money to waste on literally nothing. Thanks to the rest of your team for helping you with that part, you strode past the line of patrons waiting to get it. All you had to do was slap several bills on the bouncers chest and he let you in like it was nothing. 

The roar of music had you dazed. The sweaty bodies rubbing on one another disgusted you. How people could do this for fun was beyond you. You were looking for something out of the ordinary, something that didn’t make sense. You walked over to the bar, hoping to gather your thoughts.

“A glass of white wine please.” you leaned against the tables. The bartender nodded and turned his back towards you.

“Never seen you here before.”

You turned your head to your left to see a man facing you. He wore a black shirt with the first few buttons undone with a dark tan jacket. His hair hung in the front of his face but you could tell he had an undercut.

“I don’t party.” you turned your head back towards the bartender.

“Why is that?”

“I just don’t.” you answered dryly. You bit back the urge to roll your eyes. Of course, some asshole is trying to chat you up when it’s obvious you want to be alone. 

“Such a shame, girl like you looks like she loves a good time. I know a few cadets like you that could get crazy if they wanted.”

“I’m not one of those people.” you replied.

“One white wine for the lady.” The bartender set the glass down on the table.

“Put it on my tab, Jeff.” the man took at seat on one of the stools. “and bourbon for me.”

“Yes, Mr. Ackerman.”

That name instantly made you eyes widened. You looked over at the man who had been talking who was still looking at you. Ackerman? As in Levi Ackerman? You allowed your eyes to scan his face, it couldn’t be could it? “Something the matter, sweetheart?”

“No...” you shook your head. You grabbed the glass of the table and went back to your thoughts. You were looking for something off, something out of the blue. 

“Hm...What’s your name?”

“...” you didn’t answer. “You first.”

“Heh, playing that game with me eh?” he huffed with laughter. “Levi...Commander Levi Ackerman.” he reached forward and grabbed your free hand. “At your service, sweetheart.” he kissed your knuckles.

“Commander of...” you expected him to finished his sentence. Of course you already knew. You knew all about the criminal underworld and especially about how this man single-handedly took it over. You had gotten cases and files about this man in the past. You knew all about him. You had caught several of his wannabe proxies, but it was the first time you were meeting him face to face.

Levi let a smile cross his face, a sick smile that told you he was playing a game with you. He released your hand and leaned forward, as if waiting to tell you a secret.

“I think you know...Detective L/N.”

You previously curious look hardened into a harsh glare. You hated yourself for allowing such a filthy man to put his hands on you. Levi Ackerman was probably the most dangerous man alive. There wasn’t a limit to him. He killed his own friends and laughed about it afterwards if they crossed him the wrong way. 

“I know why you’re here.” he continued speaking. Seeing your hate filled gazed, he put his hands up in defense. “I just want to say, whatever you think happened...wasn’t my fault.”

“That’s what every criminal says.” you scoffed. “But since I can’t prove you had anything to do with my case, I can’t tazer you in the balls.”

“I’m just saying.” he shrugged. “I know a lot about you Y/N.”

“So I’m assuming you’re familiar with my case then.” you drank from your glass, clearly unamused.

“I am.” he agreed just as the bartender came back with a glass. “I have agents everywhere.”

“Of course you do.” you scoffed. “Fine. I’ll entertain you for a minute. Why should I believe you have nothing to do with my case?” You finished the remnants of your glass, now very interested in the excuses he was about to use.

“We’ll we can’t really talk here. I don’t talk about work out on the open. Follow me.”

Levi stood up straight and dusted himself off. He began walking off, not looking to see if you were following him or not.

Maybe you were too curious, but you just had to follow him. 

It wouldn’t be the first time your curiosity got you into trouble.

(So it seems like this is gonna be multiple parts. Yay?)

[histrionic-dragon]

Leverage and the Black Widow

Found some scraps/scenelets I wrote a while back.

 “Look at this,” Hardison said, staring at the security footage. “She’s like if Eliot and Parker had a scary ninja baby!”

“Ew,” Eliot and Parker muttered at the same time.

~

“Wait, she was at the thing earlier. She’s Goffson’s newest secretary-slash-trophy-girlfriend. Facial ID confirms it. It’s her. But her identity is airtight, guys—she’s got a Masters in HR from NYU and grew up in Wisconsin, series of moderately crappy boyfriends, no criminal activity. There is no reason this lady should be skulking around on a rooftop beating people up. There’s no way she should know how.”

“Well, obviously, she does.”

“Ohh, shit. Facial recognition just gave another ping. But something’s wrong—there’s only two records I can find here, it’s like it’s been . . . it’s been scrubbed, like what I do for us after a job. Only here, someone missed something. And she’s a totally different person. This was in Nevada eight months ago, and she was a historical monument docent or something.”

The shadowy figure slipped over the side of the building and down.

~

[later, they all surprise each other on the rooftop and the Widow Bites come out]

“I was wrong earlier.”

“Wrong about what, Hardison?”

“She’s like you and Sophie had a scary murder baby and then Parker raised it in the ways of the rig and the taser.”

“Can you stop saying stuff like that?!”

 ~

 “You know her?  You know her.  –Pretty lady who can kill us, of course Eliot knows her.”

“Shut up, Hardison.”

“I’m just saying, it’s pretty much par for the—”

“And I’m just saying, shut up!”

 ~

“Long time since Romania.”

“I hear you’re working for another side since then.”

“I hear you went freelance.” Her eyes flicked to Parker and Hardison. “But apparently not anymore.”

He took a step closer to the others, putting himself between her and them, knowing she’d read it as acknowledgement. “Found a good crew. You?”

A corner of her mouth turned up. “They sent a smartass with a bow and arrows to kill me, and he decided to recruit me against orders. I thought that was . . . interesting.”

“I kinda know what you mean.”

“Well, it’s been great catching up, but I’m afraid I can’t let you cover for Goffson.”

There was an offended squawk from somewhere behind them. It had to be Hardison, because the “Hey!” was Parker. Very stealthy.

“We’re not covering for him,” Eliot said, watching her carefully.

“No?”

“But we thought you were.”

“I have reason to believe he’s been selling classified information,” the Black Widow said. “I’m here to make sure he sells something else. Swap the intel, wipe everything that’s valid, let the rest play out.” By which she meant let them find out they were sold bad intel and take retribution. Elegant and brutal. “If you’re not protecting his sales, what are you here for?”

Apparently this sounded enough like a briefing that Hardison thought it would be a good idea to jump in, yelling out from behind the stack of crates they were using as cover for his little workstation. Great. “We’re actually more interested in his quote-unquote ‘legitimate’ business, by which I mean the way he’s been ripping off hundreds of people’s life savings to bribe his way into…something. Which is guess is your thing.”

The Widow frowned. “What does a group of thieves get out of that?”

“We’re the good guys now,” Parker said from behind her, just about giving Eliot a goddamn heart attack. “We steal from people who steal from people who need the money, and we give it back. Oooh, this rope is tiny. What is it?”

Fortunately, the Black Widow didn’t automatically kill people who snuck up on her. She had the look on her face that most people did when they first met Parker, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. “How did you get that without me noticing?”

“Thief,” Parker said, pointing to herself without looking up from the thin coil she was inspecting. “Hacker.” She pointed to Hardison. “You know Eliot. We’re as good at what we do as he is.” She finally looked up, though she kept fingering the rope. “You’re not as good as me.” She smiled. “You’re close, though. And I really like your gear,” she added, with the look that said she was remembering one of Sophie’s lessons, probably about softening interactions with compliments. “Seriously, where did you get this?”

“It’s carbon fiber,” the Widow said after a moment. “And it’s not available to the public.”

Parker shrugged. “That’s not a problem,” she said, and waited expectantly.

“Don’t steal from the SHIELD depot, Parker,” Eliot said, sighing, and gestured toward the ledge of the rooftop: truce? Let’s all sit down?

“Why not?” Parker demanded, as the Widow gave a sigh of her own and sat down next to Parker. It didn’t make her any less dangerous, but it was still probably a good sign.

“Professional courtesy,” Eliot answered.

Parker frowned. “But our profession is thieves.”

“Ours is,” Eliot said. “Hers isn’t.” He looked at the Widow. She was wearing a very small, patient smile. “She’s a spy.”

“She steals intel instead of money,” Hardison said, walking up to them. “I’ve disabled all the motion detectors up here for another ten minutes,” he added. “We can talk. But I’ve re-activated other parts of the security system and I’m not telling you which ones, so if you try to do anything—”

~

[They talk. Hardison has heard of certain shadowy operatives but….]

“No. That’s not real. That’s a myth. The Black Widow doesn’t exist.”

“Well, then if I have to kill you, you’ll be pleased to know you’re dead of natural causes.”

“You—buh—that’s like saying you’re Slenderman or something!”

~

It actually didn’t take long to come to an agreement, even if Nate was sputtering on the coms the whole time. Their aims weren’t in conflict, just their methods, and they could be more efficient if they teamed up. Hardison would bring down the security system. The Widow could go in and get her data directly, skipping about three steps of her existing plan, and plant some of their evidence while she was in. The Leverage team wouldn’t have to go in at all that night. She’d make sure they had access during the confusion of the bust the following afternoon.

“What if it’s a setup?” Sophie kept fretting. Nate wasn’t fretting; he was just yelling.

“She wouldn’t bother,” Eliot said. “We don’t have anything useful to the US government and she’s not in any kind of law enforcement that would bother with us. If she wanted us out of the way, we’d be dead.”

“That’s not as reassuring as you seem to believe it is.”

 ~

The files were all in Goffman’s office—not even in a safe, just in a locked drawer in a filing cabinet. Parker seemed personally offended by that. But there was one more thing they found when they checked the “secretary’s” desk. Nora Riddel had obviously left in a hurry, and everything she’d left behind would corroborate her cover story, from the tissues in the trash can to the photos on the desk, but one thing didn’t fit: A silvery envelope tucked under the keyboard, labeled only “Leverage.”

The envelope contained a list of account numbers that would make going through Goffman’s files even easier, and—Parker squealed—a length of very thin, very tough rope.

[fanmoose12]

Partners

Characters: Petra Ral, Levi, Hanji Zoe x Levi Genre: Action / Mystery / Romance Rating: T

Detective!au

Summary: when Petra was promoted to a detective and partnered up with legendary Levi Ackerman, she felt like the happiest person in the world.

But, as she soon found out, detective Ackerman she used to admire so much was actually a far cry from the ideal policeman Petra thought he was. He was rude, harsh and easily annoyed. And, in addition, he still hadn’t moved on from the death of his previous partner - detective Hange Zoe.

Chapter 5/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Сhapter 3

Chapter 4

It took two sets of the alarm to wake Petra up the next morning. Still sleepy, she yawned and slowly sat up. Rubbing her eyes, she looked out of the window. The weather was awful - the sky was grey, heavy clouds were hiding the sun and making everything look gloomy. It was raining too, the sound of raindrops, hitting the window, was defining in the otherwise silent apartment.

Petra groaned - she hated the rain. Sure, occasional summer drizzle was enjoyable, but weather like this? The cold and harsh autumn rain? The mighty wind that threatened to blow the umbrella out of her hands and then throw her onto the ground as well? She hated it more than anything.

But, whether she liked it or not, Petra had to go to work. So with a heavy sigh, she got up from the bed, shivering as her bare feet touched the cold floor. Draping a robe over her shoulders, she was going to head to the bathroom. A sound, announcing a new message on her phone, stopped her. She reached for the phone, quickly unlocking it. It was seven in the morning. Who could be messaging her so early?

Remember the cafe we visited yesterday? I'm waiting for you there. Don't take too long.

So it was from Levi! But didn't he request a day-off? And what was the meaning of his text? Was it his awkward manner of asking her out on a breakfast? Was it his way of apologizing for the failed interrogation?

Whatever it was, Petra wasn't courageous enough to call and ask him about it. She'd get ready quickly and meet him there. Certainly, things would be cleared out then.

After taking a quick shower and putting on a dark blue dress and a striped black jacket, Petra got in a taxi and soon arrived to the cafe.

And as she got out from the car, the small red umbrella as her only protection from the thick rain, Petra felt dread settle in her stomach. There was shivers running down her spine, and they had nothing to do with the droplets of cold water hitting her face.

The cafe. It was surrounded by police cars.

Fearing the worst, she made her way through the crowd of police officers, ignoring the trembling in her knees. Her hand was clutching the umbrella almost painfully. Her heart was beating so loudly, she could barely hear what the others were talking about. Only when she walked up to the entrance and saw Levi, sitting on a curb and comforting the owner of the cafe, that sweet old lady with a kind smile, only then Petra allowed herself to breathe out in relief.

"What happened?" she demanded from Levi, looking around in alarm.

"Another murder," Levi answered curtly. "The body is inside, I've been waiting for you to show up, so we can get a look at it together."

Petra nodded, ready to start the investigation. Before he got to his feet, though, Levi turned around, whispering something to the old woman. His voice was too soft for her to hear, and Petra turned around, giving them at least some semblance of privacy.

"Let's go," he said as he stood next to her.

"Detective," the woman called, before Levi and Petra disappeared inside. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

For a second, hurt flashed in Levi's eyes. He reached out and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry for yours too, Dorothy."

The woman, Dorothy, looked so sad, so weary and tired. Petra's heart clenched painfully, as she was reminded of her own mother, who had died years ago.

"We'll find the killer," Petra promised her heartily. Levi turned his gaze on her, but Petra didn't let it steer her. She stared straight at Dorothy. "We'll find him and bring him to justice."

The old woman smiled weakly, but genuinely. "Thank you, dear," she whispered softly. "It means a lot."

Petra smiled back, but before she could give Dorothy a reply, she was roughly dragged away by Levi.

"Never give promises you're not sure you can keep," he said sternly.

"But I—"

"You're right, though," Levi continued, cutting her off. "We'll catch that bastard. I'll do whatever it takes to ensure that."

Without sparring her another glance, Levi pushed the door to the cafe open, walking inside.

***

As soon as they entered, a short red-headed woman approached them.

"Detective Ackerman!" she exclaimed, clearly surprised. "Why are you here? Isn't today your day-off? Today is the anniversary of—"

"I know what day it is," Levi gritted through his teeth. "But we've got a dead body in the cafe. So, maybe, you would be so kind as to walk us through the case, Nifa?"

"Ah, of course, I'm sorry,” Nifa pursed her lips, looking up at Levi with caution. But then she sighed, taking out two pairs of sterile gloves and handing them to Petra and Levi. She straightened out and started leading them to the scene of crime.

"The woman, waitress, had her throat slashed, just like the previous victin. According to the owner of the cafe, the waitress had a night shift and was supposed to be working till seven am. At a little past six, the owner came to help with preparing for a morning rush and that's when she had found the body. She called the police and we arrived at half past six. Judging by the rigor mortis, the victim was killed approximately three or four hours ago. There," she gestured at one of the booths, where a woman sat, her head lying on the table.

The first thing Petra noticed about the victim was the yellow jacket that was draped over her shoulders. She wasn’t surprised by its flamboyant, cheerful color, or the fact that it looked like it was put over the victim after her death, no, it was the state of the jacket. The color definitely was bright and vivid before, but now it was covered with dust and soot. The hem and sleeves looked torn and ragged. It seemed as though... the jacket was burned.

Next to her, Levi took a sharp intake of breath.

"We don't know for sure yet!" Nifa blurted out, seeing the expression on Levi's face. "We'll need to search for DNA or—"

"No, it's Hange's," he murmured. His hand was slightly trembling, as he reached out to gently stroke the dirty clothe. His eyes were filled with affection and his lips curled into almost a smile, as gazed at it. “Only that idiot could wear such an ugly jacket.”

Petra and Nifa exchanged a worried gaze.

"That bastard," Levi growled a second later, all signs of that softness gone. He squeezed the hand on his side so much, his knuckles turned white. "He's playing with me again. Fucking asshole,” he spat, his eyes burning with rage. “Well, he can play as much he wants, I'll catch him anyway. And then I'll make him pay." Levi paused, lowering his head and taking a deep breath. Then he looked up, fixing Nifa with sharp gaze. "What else did you manage to find?"

"Not much," she answered honestly. "We couldn't find any fingerprints or other signs of the killer. The victim obviously didn't put up a fight, there is nothing under her fingernails and the only visible injury is the cut on her throat."

"Could she be dragged like the previous victim?" Petra asked.

"Possibly," Nifa nodded. "We'll determine it for sure at the lab. The killer obviously tried to keep this scene of crime as clean as the previous one, but we found traces of blood on victim's blouse and skirt."

"Is there any blood on the jacket?" Levi questioned.

"There is blood," Nifa confirmed. "But it's not fresh. We’ll need to run tests at the lab. To find out, whether the blood belongs to the victim, or...” she paused, staring at Levi apologetically.

“Or if it is Hange’s,” he finished for her. “Well, whatever you find, it’s probable that the jacket was put on the victim after her death."

Petra nodded, satisfied with herself. She came to the same conclusion.

"What about security cameras? Did they manage to catch something?"

"There are no security cameras inside the cafe, but we are still looking for them in surrounding areas."

"Alright," Levi concluded. "We'll take it from here. Let's go and ask around," he told Petra. "Maybe, we'll find a witness."

"Wait a second," Petra stopped Levi with a hand on his sleeve. Her eyes were still focused on that jacket.

It looked like....

Petra quickly put on sterile gloves and carefully tugged at one side of the jacket, revealing the inner layer. Just as she thought, there was something in the inside pocket.

A note.

Grinning victoriously, she took it out. The smile disappeared from her face as soon as she read the contents. Her heart missed a beat as soon as she read the contents.

Levi snatched the note out of her hands before Petra could begin to tremble.

"What is this shit?" he muttered, looking at the note. "You'd better stop looking for me, detective. Or the next souvenir I'll bring you will belong to your new partner," Levi cursed as he finished reading the note aloud. He crumbled the piece of paper in his fist, clenching his jaw.

Petra watched him with a detached face. The edges of her vision began to swim, as the words, written in that note, kept replaying in her head, ringing louder than the noise around her. Her limbs grew limp and her heart rate quickened, as she fruitlessly tried to breathe.

Even though, it didn't happen to her ever since she graduated high school, Petra could never forget the symptoms, the way her body felt in the beginning of a panic attack.

She tried to take a grip on herself, remember the lessons her father taught her. But his words, his wise advices kept escaping her, getting out of her reach before Petra could piece them together.

Her father always said, he always said that in situations like this the most important thing was to... was to…

"Breathe," Levi's gruff voice penetrated through the fog around Petra. "Petra, you just need to breathe, c'mon," he gently but firmly squeezed her shoulders. "In and out, slowly," he instructed her patiently.

After Petra managed a couple of calm exhales and inhales, Levi sighed in relief. "Here," he pressed on her shoulder to sit her down at a chair. Immediately, Nifa appeared with water and granola bar in her hands.

"Are you alright?" she asked, genuinely worried.

"Yeah..." Petra nodded shakily, avoiding looking at Nifa and especially Levi. She felt like an idiot. It was just some stupid note, and she almost fainted because of it. What a badass detective she was. "Sorry for worrying you."

"I understand if you want to drop this case," Levi told her, surprisingly soft.

"No!" Petra jumped from her sit. Nifa, who was hovering over her and measuring her pulse, gave Levi an angry look. "I just overreacted, but I'll be fine, I promise! I can take it!"

Levi watched her for a long moment, his eyes skeptic and doubtful.

"I can't always be there to protect you."

"I know.”

"And yet you still want to continue the investigation?"

"Yes," Petra answered without hesitation.

Levi kept staring in her eyes, as though searching for a sign of doubt. When he couldn't see any, he sighed and shook his head.

"There is nothing I can say that would change your mind, right?"

Petra nodded with a smile.

Levi cursed under his breath. "Tell me when you're ready. Rest for a while, and then we'll start the search."

"I can handle the investigation by myself today," Petra offered. "It's your day off after all."

Levi frowned. "I shouldn't leave you alone."

"I can go with her!" Nifa cheerfully exclaimed, putting a hand on Petra's shoulder.

"Don't you have to be at the lab?" Levi asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Nah," Nifa waved her hand. "I already came here at half past six, the boys can take care of the rest. Besides!" she turned to Petra. "I always wanted to take part in investigation. Oh, we're going to have so much fun!"

Petra couldn't keep a smile off her face, Nifa's excitement was infectious.

"Fine," Levi rolled his eyes. "Go together, but be careful. Do you have a gun, Petra?"

"Of course."

"And my phone number?"

"Yes."

“Good, if you see anything strange or suspicious, call me immediately. Deal?"

"Deal," Petra agreed. And before Levi left, she reached out to him. "Can we talk before you go?" she threw an apologizing look in Nifa's direction. "In private."

Levi tensed ever so slightly, but nodded without hesitation. "We'll be back soon," he said to Nifa and then turned around, leading Petra out of the cafe.

Before they left, he grabbed the granola bar Nifa brought to Petra.

Navigating through the crowd of policemen and curious pedestrians, Levi reached to his car. He opened the passenger door, gesturing for Petra to get in. Then he sat down in the driver's seat.

"Eat," he ordered, thrusting a granola bar into her hand. "And talk."

"Djel Sannes asked me to spy on you," Petra blurted out, shutting her eyes tightly. She was afraid to look at Levi's face. What if he gets angry? What if he is disappointed? What if he stops trusting her?

"Oh," Levi breathed out, surprisingly calm. "I didn't expect that. Did you agree?"

"What!" Petra opened her eyes widely. "Of course, not!" she exclaimed, but then paused, remembering their conversation with Sannes. Technically... "Well, truth be told, I did agree... But only to fool him! I'm not going to report anything to him!"

"You should," Levi said, shocking Petra even more.

"I... I don't understand."

Levi tiredly rubbed his forehead. "I need to discuss it with Erwin first, and I know I'm asking a lot of you..."

"Nonsense!" Petra cried out. "I'm on your side! And I really want to help!"

"Thank you," Levi told her earnestly. His eyes were a little softer than usual. It made Petra feel warmer.

"After what I just revealed..." she began uncertainly. “You still trust me? I could be working for him actually."

"No, you couldn't," Levi answered without an ounce of a doubt.

"And what makes you so sure?"

"Because you're a good person, Petra. And," a little smirk appeared on his lips. "You are a terrible liar."

Petra let out a surprised chuckle. She looked at Levi, feeling her smile grow wider. "So... What do you need me to do?"

"As I said, I need to talk with Erwin first, but... we could make a double agent out of you. You'll give Sannes some false information and then tell me his reaction. I need to know how much he knows."

"You can count on me!" Petra cheerfully promised. A moment later, however, a little frown appeared on her face. “By the way… why does he hate you so much?”

For a long moment, Levi was silent. His fingers drummed rhythmically at the steering wheel, as he appeared deep in thought. Petra was starting to think she won’t get her answers, but then Levi turned to look at her, staring right into her eyes.

“The trust should go both ways, I suppose,” he said. “I... found an informant. I don’t know who they are and I’ve never met them, but every once in a while, they bring me little messages with information. It’s the location of Sannes’ next deal, or a name of some politician who was bribed by him... that kind of stuff.”

“And these messages… they turn out to be true?”

“Every goddamn time. Sometimes I act on them, do whatever I can to stop Sannes’ dealings. Not always, of course, or Sannes would have me removed a long time ago. But he still suspects me, I guess.”

“Oh.” That was a lot to digest. "Oh!" Petra repeated, suddenly remembering. "Nifa is probably waiting for me! I should hurry!"

"Be careful!" Levi told her as she opened the door. "Don't forget to eat," he pointed with his chin at the granola bar she was still holding. "And call me if anything goes wrong, okay?"

"Of course!" Petra waved at him, and then ran back to the cafe.

Despite the worrying information Levi had revealed to her, she felt giddy and relieved, as she maneuvered between the pedestrians under the still going rain. He trusted her. Maybe, they’d be able to become real partners after all.

***

"I'm going to be honest with you," Nifa mumbled after taking a bite from a chocolate cake. "Today kinda sucked. I always thought that detective work was more exciting that just going around and asking people the same few questions."

Petra sighed. She felt exactly the same. They've spent the majority of the day, trying to find some witnesses, but were met with failure after failure. Now she and Nifa sat in break room at the forensics department, drinking tea and eating cake. Moblit was right after all, their tea collection was more than impressive. And Nifa's pastries were delicious.

“I'm sorry that I've dragged you into this," she told Nifa. "You're probably regretting your decision to accompany me."

"Oi, don't be ridiculous. It wasn't as thrilling as I hoped, but it was still better than being stuck in here."

"Huh?" Petra frowned. “You don't like working here?"

"No, don't get me wrong," Nifa answered. "I love my job, but I spend day after day, surrounded by dead bodies, and, more terribly, three boring nerds," she pointed to Moblit, Abel and Keiji, who were discussing something at the other side of the room. "So thank you for taking me with you," she smiled prettily. "I hope we'll become friends!"

"I would like that," Petra smiled back. Nifa was really nice. She would love to be friends with a woman like her.

"I hate to interrupt, ladies," Abel approached them. "But we'll be starting the dissection soon, so..."

Nifa groaned. "What do you need me to do?"

"No, no," Abel assured her with a nervous smile. "The three of us are more than enough for the job, but detective Ral probably isn't as used to smell as we are."

"Oh, of course, I didn't think about it. C'mon," Nifa took Petra's hand, dragging her upwards. "Let's go to your office then. I know where detective Ackerman hides his precious tea stash."

"You want to steal his tea? Won't we get in trouble with him?" Petra fretted, following Nifa out of the break room and up the stairs.

"Don't worry. If your partner wants to yell at me, he'll need to come down here first. Which I doubt he’ll do."

"I thought he visited your department a lot," Petra said with no small deal of confusion.

"Only when he needs an autopsy report or for us to look over some evidence. And he never stays for long."

"Oh."

"It wasn't like that before," Nifa noted sadly. "Before..."

"Detective Zoe's death?"

"Yeah,” Nifa shook her head. “Before that he frequently visited our department. He always complained about the smell," a wistful smile appeared on Nifa's face. "But usually, whenever detective Hange went, detective Ackerman followed. She always managed to bring him out of his shelf. Wait!" Nifa took out a phone from her lab coat. "You really need to see this!” she pushed Petra into an empty hallway, all the while searching for something on her phone.

"Found it!" she exclaimed, thrusting the phone in Petra's hands. She pressed play and cocked her head, hovering above the phone alongside Petra.

A video started to play. Whoever was recording it had really shaky hands, and the image wasn't in a good quality, but it was obvious that it was recorded in some kind of a bar.

"I took it two years ago. We just finished one extremely troublesome case and decided to celebrate with a night of karaoke," Nifa explained, as the camera focused on a small stage.

Three people were standing there, their hands wrapped around each other, as they struggled to keep themselves upright. One person in particular seemed painfully familiar.

"Is that..." Petra gasped, not quite believing her eyes.

"Yes, it's detective Ackerman, Сaptain Erwin and detective Hange," Nifa snickered, watching Petra's shocked expression.

Meanwhile, the first notes of "Don't Stop Believing" started playing. Immediately, Captain Erwin and detective Hange started singing. Erwin's voice was deep, and unsurprisingly, quite nice. However, the effect was somewhat ruined by his extensive slurring. Detective Zoe, on the other hand, wasn’t actually singing. It was more like she was screaming the lyrics into the microphone.

As soon as he noticed that Levi wasn't singing along with them, Captain Erwin nudged him. However, it had no effect at the other man, so Erwin redirected his gaze at Hange. She glanced at Levi and scowled, elbowing him in the side.

Someone in the background shouted "Detective Ackerman, don't be shy!", and Hange elbowed him again, leaning in to whisper something in his ear. Levi rolled his eyes and tugged Hange by the shirt down to his level, so he could reply to her. Whatever he had said made Hange threw her head back and laugh. For a moment, Levi was staring up at her, seemingly mesmerized, but then he shook his head and started singing. He was barely heard, since Captain Erwin's and Hange's voices were so much louder, but there was a soft look in his eyes and a small smile on his lips, as he watched his friends.

"I can't believe that it's the same Levi I know," Petra confessed after the video was finished.

"You should have seen him and detective Hange doing a power duet to “I Was Made For Loving You”. That was something,” Nifa giggled again. “Too bad I was too drunk to record it. So yeah,” she said, hiding the phone back into her pocket. "Detective Hange had an uncanny ability to make your partner more fun."

"Yeah, I wish I could see him act like this..."

"Oh gosh! I'm sorry for putting the mood down! Let's change the subject!" Nifa linked her hand with Petra's, as they started walking again. "Do you know any interesting gossip?"

"G-gossip?"

"Ah, I can see that you don't," Nifa shook her head in disappointment. "Alright then! Do you have a crush on someone from the precinct?"

"What!" Petra's cheeks flamed up. "Of course, not!"

"Liar," Nifa sang. "C’mon, you can tell me! I won't tell anyone!"

And before Petra could deny it any further, she noticed Oluo on the other side of the hallway. He noticed her too. Smiling happily, he hurriedly made his way to her and Nifa.

"Petra!" he greeted. "You didn't change your mind?"

"Of course, not," Petra assured him, ignoring Nifa's curious gaze.

"Awesome, I'll pick you up at seven!" Oluo’s smile grew wider. He waited for Petra to smile back and then left, still grinning from ear to ear.

"It looks like I've got my answer," Nifa's voice was full of smugness. "For how long have you been dating?"

"It's our first date," Petra revealed, deciding that it was easier to just tell Nifa everything she wanted to know.

"First date? How romantic! What are you going to wear?"

"Er," Petra glanced down at her dress. "I was actually going to wear this..."

"No!" Nifa's hands flew to her face. "You can't just come in your work clothes! Absolutely not! Change of plans," she announced, as she turned around, dragging Petra along with her. "We're going shopping."

"But! It's only three o'clock! Our shift has not ended!"

"Calm down," Nifa rolled her eyes. "No one will notice if we leave earlier. Besides, we've done a lot of work today. We deserve some rest."

"But—"

"No buts!" Nifa ordered with a strict face. "We need to hurry, you don't have much time left. It's your first date! Everything should be perfect!"

Petra surrendered with a sigh. Obviously, there was no point in arguing with Nifa. She obediently followed after her new friend.

***

"Look at you!" Nifa cooed, as she finished painting Petra's lips. "You're so pretty! Honestly, I'm starting to envy that Oluo guy. If the date ends up being horrible... well," she winked with a sly smile. "I can always make it better."

"Stop it!" Petra playfully smacked Nifa’s shoulder, blushing furiously.

"It's just an offer," Nifa shrugged. "But seriously, he'd be the biggest idiot in the world, if he doesn't ask you out on a second date," turning Petra around to face full-length mirror, Nifa smiled softly. "You look gorgeous, Petra."

"I..." Petra stared at her reflection, eyeing it critically. She wore a knee-length blue dress. It was simple, but the color accentuated her eyes nicely. Her hair was put up in a small bun with a few strands failing at the side of her face. She had to admit it - she looked good. "Thank you. It's all your doing."

"Nah, I didn't do anything."

"Don't say that!" Petra protested with a strict face. "You took me out for shopping, you helped me pick the dress, you even helped me with make-up and hair!"

"Alright, alright, I accept your gratitude," Nifa smirked cheekily. "And now I take my leave. Your date will be here soon," she turned around, walking out of Petra's room and heading to the front door.

"I had a lot of fun today," Petra admitted, while Nifa was putting on her coat. "We should do this more often."

"Absolutely," Nifa nodded in agreement. "Good luck with your date," she gave Petra a quick hug. "And be careful."

"Of course," Petra promised, returning the hug heartily. "Thank you once again."

"You really need to stop thanking me so much," Nifa scolded, but then smile was back on her face. She waved her hand. "Goodbye!"                                     

Petra closed the door after her, and then walked back to her bedroom. She checked herself in the mirror once again. She nodded to her reflection, more than satisfied with her attire. Then she grabbed her purse, putting phone, keys and lipstick inside. Her gaze darted to a drawer, where her gun was hidden. Maybe, she should take it? Petra almost refused this idea, normal people don't bring a gun on a date. But then again, normal people don't receive death threats.

No one would know that I have it, she tried to reason with herself, but it would make me feel safer.

Ignoring the sensible part of her, Petra swiftly put the gun inside. She closed the purse, and then the doorbell rang.                                               

She hurried to the front door, opening it. Oluo stood on the other side, holding a bouquet of daisies and smiling shyly.

"For you," he said, awkwardly handing her the flowers. He desperately avoided looking at her face. Petra smiled, charmed by his bashfulness.

"Thank you so much," she leaned in to give him a small peck on his cheek. The skin there immediately reddened. Petra giggled, as she took the flowers from his hands. Oluo's eyes instantly snapped to look at her.

He gasped.

"You look..." he cleared his throat, tugging nervously at the collar of his dark red shirt. "Good. Yes, v-very, um, good."

"You don't look so bad yourself," Petra looked him up and down, smirking slightly, when she saw that the blush on Oluo's face became a deeper shade of red, almost in tone to his shirt. She turned around to find a vase for the flowers. "Just a moment, please! I'm almost ready!"

"Just don't take too long," Oluo huffed. "We have a reservation."

The smile didn’t leave Petra’s face while she was putting the flowers into a vase. It seemed like the good old Oluo was back. Of course, she enjoyed watching his embarrassed face, but, as weird as it was, she liked his usual self much, much more.

Huh, Petra mused, as Oluo helped her put on a coat and she felt her heart rate increase, when their fingers brushed against each other, she really liked that idiot. Who could have thought?

***                                                                                                                           

"...And that's how I ended up cleaning the entirety of Erd's apartment," Oluo concluded, hanging his head in defeat.

“You really should stop making bets with him,” Petra rolled her eyes. “He’s clearly smarter than you.”

“Oi!” Oluo cried out, offended.

Looking at his pouting face, Petra started laughing. Gosh, she had never felt so relaxed while on a date. Usually, she was anxious, picking her words very carefully, worrying about her posture and make-up. But being on a date with Oluo was easy, talking and joking and teasing was almost natural. She didn’t remember the last time she enjoyed herself so much.

“So, now that I’ve told you all the embarrassing stuff that happened to me over the weekend,” Oluo drank from his glass of wine and looked expectantly at Petra. “What were you up to?”

“Well, you know,” she self-consciously tucked a stray lock of hair behind ear. “This and that.”

“C’mon!” he nudged her leg under the table. “You’re a detective now! And a partner of Levi Ackerman himself. Spill it out, Petra. How does it feel working with him? Is he as badass as everyone says he is?”

“He’s an ace detective, that’s for sure,” Petra said, remembering her first day and the way Levi cracked the case even before she went to question the suspect. "But sometimes..." Petra stared at her plate, mindlessly tossing the food around. "Sometimes I feel like he looks at me and sees someone else, you know? And he gets frustrated when that illusion is shattered."

"Oh. That must be tough for you," Oluo reached out and covered her hand with his.

"No, no, it's fine," Petra put on a smile. Oluo's gentle touch made her feel all fuzzy inside. "Despite all of this, I like working with Levi. He's really great at what he does. There is a lot I can learn from him."

"What about your case, though? I've heard it's really messed up."

"I..." Petra faltered, not knowing where to begin.

"You don't have to tell me, of course!" Oluo blurted out with a panicked expression, mistaking her uncertainty for unwillingness. "I mean, it's probably confidential and…"

"No, it's not that," Petra assured him. "You're not a civilian after all, and, besides, I trust you," Oluo's eyes softened at her words and he squeezed her hand a little tighter. Petra sent him a grateful look. "I just... it's so complicated, but maybe, you can help me. See something that I don't, you know?"

"Alright," Oluo nodded with determined face. "Tell me about it."

"So the whole case revolves around detective Hange Zoe? Levi's previous partner. On both scenes of murder, we found evidence that's directly linked to her... The glasses were confirmed to be hers, and Levi recognized her jacket that was draped over today's victim... And both scenes of crimes, the apartment complex and that little café, play a big role too. It’s clear that these places were important for Hange, and… for Levi. And!" Petra put her hands into her hair, getting more frustrated as she recalled more details from the case. "There are so many things that make no goddamn sense! Where do Zoe's things come from? What does the killer want from Levi?

Petra took a deep breath and then continued.

“And another thing! The first scene of the crime was meticulously cleaned, the woman had her throat slashed, but there was no sign of blood. The second was mostly clean, too, but blood wasn't cleaned out from the victim's clothes. So the killer goes out of his way to ensure that the scene of murder is clean, but he's clearly not obsessed with it. Then what is his deal? Is it just a habit? Why does he do that? Ah, just thinking about it makes my head spin! There is so much I don't understand."

Petra took a large gulp of wine, avoiding Oluo’s eyes. She probably told him too much, burdened him with her work problems. The first date shouldn’t go like this. You shouldn’t talk about murders. And to think that she didn’t even mention the most disturbing thing – the today’s note!

"Hey..." Oluo began to gently caress her hand. Petra looked up at him, and was shocked to see a proud smile on his face. "Don't beat yourself over it. You haven't made much progress, but you're trying. And, I think, you're asking all the right questions. Now all you need to do is to find answers."

"And that's the hardest part," Petra muttered bitterly.

"Maybe," Oluo agreed. "But you're smart, Petra, and, god knows, you're stubborn. You can do this. I believe in you."

"Oluo..." Petra whispered, her eyes filling with tears. "Thank you so much. I... I really needed to hear it today."

"Oi, c'mon, don't start crying on me," he bent over the table, wiping tears from her face. "You’re not crying, because the date is so terrible, right?"

"No," Petra shook her head, chuckling. "The date is perfect."

"So that's a guaranteed yes for a second one?" Oluo asked with a smirk on his face that was clearly put there to mask his nervousness.

"You know what?" Petra smiled widely. "That's a guaranteed yes for the third date too."

"Yes!" Oluo pumped his fist in the air, attracting attention from all the patrons at the restaurant. Some looked at him with amusement, while other's eyes were filled with annoyance.

"Now let's eat our delicious dinner," Oluo told her, already stuffing his face with pasta. "Now that I'm not afraid that my awful table etiquette will push you away."

"Oluo," Petra smirked. "We've worked at the same office for years. I already know that you eat like a pig."

"And yet you agreed to a date with me."

"And yet I did," she answered with a sweet smile.

***

"Don't take me home," Petra said, as Oluo started the car. He froze with his hand still on the ignition key, staring at her with an opened mouth and wide eyes.

"No!" Petra cried out, as it dawned on her, how Oluo might have interpreted her words. "I need to go to the precinct, and not, um, you know…"

"Thank god," Oluo muttered, as he drove out of the parking lot and onto the street. "Not that I'm against it!" he quickly added. "But let's not move too fast, yeah?"

"Yes," Petra smiled, happy that she and Oluo were on a same page.

"Wait a minute," Oluo fixed her with a suspicious gaze. "What are you going to do at a precinct? It's almost nine pm!”

"I was hoping... to get some work done?" Petra answered sheepishly. "Your words... kinda motivated me."

“Well, of course, they did. I’m an awesome guy,” Oluo said with a pride smirk that made Petra roll her eyes. He was absolutely ridiculous. But, good lord, did she like him. “But shouldn’t you go home and rest? Can they even let you in at that time?”

“If I tell them I need to work, I’m sure the security will gladly let me in. Besides, I’m not going to spend the whole night there, don’t worry. I’ll just look over the autopsy report and then head home.”

“Promise?” Oluo briefly looked away from the road to give Petra a careful look.

“Promise,” she replied, feeling her heart skip a bit. Oluo’s concern, even it was really unnecessary, was extremely endearing.

“Fine,” Oluo huffed. “Go and do your job, you workaholic,” he stopped in front of a precinct and hurried to get out, so he could open the door for Petra.

“Text me, when you get home, okay?” he took Petra by the hand, helping her get out of the car.

“Of course,” she said, reaching out to press a brief kiss on his lips. “I’ll be waiting for our next date,” she whispered, enjoying the dazed look on his face.

Still smiling from ear to ear, Petra entered the precinct.

***

That same dreamy smile was still present on her lips, as Petra made her way through the precinct. She reached the hallway, where their office was.

And the smile disappeared instantly. A cautious, almost worried expression took its place.

There was a light coming underneath the door to their office.

Who could be inside at such hour? Was it Levi? But it was his day off.

It didn't make sense.

Petra slowly reached into her purse and took out a phone, her eyes never leaving that little shimmer of light. With trembling fingers she dialed Levi's number. One beep... two... Petra anxiously waited to hear Levi's ringtone on the other side of the door.

The hallway was silent.

"Petra?" Levi's voice in her ear made Petra jump. She hurriedly backed away, taking a few steps away from the door. "Petra, do you hear me? Is everything alright?"

"There is someone in our office right now," she whispered. "It's not you, is it?"

"What the fuck are you doing at the precinct at night?" Levi asked angrily.

“I wanted to do some work…”

“Jesus—” it was obvious that Levi was pissed and wanted to yell at her, but he took a deep breath, calming himself down. "Doesn't matter now," he added in his normal voice. "I'll be there in ten minutes. Wait for me and don't go in there, understood?"

"Y-yes," Petra answered shakily.

"Don't do anything stupid." Levi warned and then ended the call.

Putting the phone back into the purse, Petra carefully took out a gun.

Levi would be there in ten minutes. It wasn't that long. She could wait for him. It would be a smart choice.

Unfortunately, Petra wasn't feeling particularly smart tonight. She gripped the gun more securely and quietly made her way towards the door. The clicking could be heard inside, as though someone was typing on a computer.

Petra narrowed her eyes, feeling angry. She just couldn't let some stranger, probably a criminal, go through their stuff. It was illegal. And her job was to protect the law. So ignoring her trembling knees, Petra busted the door open and immediately aimed her gun at the intruder.

Their face was obscured by strands of hair, as they stared intently at the computer screen.

"Freeze!" Petra shouted. Thankfully, her voice didn't waver.

It didn't, however, have much of an effect on the stranger. They continued typing something with an impressive speed. They didn't spare even a single glance in Petra's direction.

"I said freeze!" she repeated with more force.

"And what happens if I don't?" they asked in a deep voice, still not lifting their face. "Will you shoot me?"

"Breaking into detective's office is illegal!"

"Technically," the intruder finally looked up. Petra gasped as she took a good look on their face. The hand with a gun fell limply at her side. "It was my office too. Still is, considering that my desk is unoccupied."

Unbelievable. Impossible.

She looked a little different from the woman on the photo Petra found in Levi's desk. She looked older and more tired. There were wrinkles on her face. Her shoulders were slumped, as though an invisible force was dragging her down. There were deep, almost black circles under her eyes— well, eye. Her left one was covered with a black patch.

But even with all those changes, there was no doubt in Petra's mind as to who was sitting behind Levi’s desk.

"...D-detective Zoe?" Petra uttered, staring at Hange with wide eyes.

"Oh, they still remember me in here," Hange noted with a self-satisfied grin. "That's flattering."

"Y-you're alive?"

Hange chuckled, her eye sparkling with amusement. "You have excellent observation skills, detective."

"B-but! How?!" Petra cried out, ignoring the jab.

"Ah, that's quite a boring story. A really long one too, and, unfortunately, I'm in a hurry."

"Wait! You can't leave just yet! Levi— y-you have to see him. He'll be so happy to find out that you're still alive!"

The smile slipped from Hange's lips instantly.

"No," she said coldly. "He can't see me. And you can't tell him that you've met me, Petra."

"How do you know my name?" Petra asked with a deep, suspicious frown. She was sure she didn't introduce herself.

Hange turned her face away. "I know a lot of things," she nervously fixed her glasses. "I... watch over him."

"So you still care about Levi!" Petra pointed an accusing finger at her. "Then why don't you want to meet him?"

"I have my reasons," she sounded strained, almost desperate. It seemed like— seemed like Hange wasn't trying to convince Petra. She was trying to convince herself.

It was obvious that Hange wanted to reunite with Levi. Petra could see that desire in the poorly hidden pain at the bottom of her brown eye. In the hard line of her mouth. In her palms that squeezed the edge of Levi's desk so hard her knuckles turned white.

And it was obvious that there was something keeping her away from acting on that desire. Some conspiracy Petra couldn't even begin to understand. Some plot, set in motion long before Petra became a detective. Possibly even before Hange's ‘death’. But she didn't care about that. Nothing mattered for Petra as much as the sadness in Levi's eyes and her wish to make him happy.

Besides, whether Hange wanted to meet him or not, it wasn't important anymore. That choice was made the moment Petra crossed the threshold.

"Levi will be here soon," Petra stared straight at Hange. "I called him before entering the office."

"No!" Hange's face twisted with panic. "Why would you do that? Fuck, I need to go," she glanced back at the computer, typed a few more words and then rose to her feet.

She wanted to leave. Petra couldn't allow it.

She raised her gun, aiming it at Hange.

"He misses you so much," Petra whispered softly, trying to plead with Hange. "Please, just let him see you. Let him know that you're alive."

"No, I can't, no, not now," Hange ran a shaking hand through her hair. "I have to go."

She took a step forward, seemingly undisturbed by the fact that Petra's gun was trained at her.

"I can't let you go," Petra firmly planted her legs, staring up at Hange defiantly.

"What?" Hange lifted an eyebrow, giving Petra an unimpressed look. "Are you going to shoot me?"

"I won't hurt you," Petra promised. "But I'll do whatever it takes to make you stay."

"Oh, Petra," Hange shook her head. "You're a sweet, sweet soul. And it pains me to do this, but if you don't let me through, I'll have to fight you. And I will hurt you."

Petra anticipated that answer. She also knew that in a fight against Hange Zoe, she didn't have a single chance. It wasn't her wide shoulders, or muscles that were showing even beneath the oversized green shirt. It was years and years of experience that separated them. Hange was skilled, she was smart.

But Petra didn't have to win this fight, just hold out until Levi arrives.

Hange moved fast, so fast Petra was barely able to take a fight stance. She tossed the gun onto the floor and raised her arms, thinking that Hange would hit her in the face. But Hange approached her and laid her hand on Petra's shoulder. She was going to throw her onto the ground, Petra realized, but it was too late to move away. Hange lifted her leg, meaning to kick Petra.

She wasn't quick enough.

Their struggle was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. Hange tensed immediately, squeezing Petra's shoulder painfully.

"No." she whispered, her eyes filled with panic.

"Petra!" Levi shouted behind the door. “Where are you?”

"I'm here!" she screamed back, watching Hange carefully. All color left her face and her breath quickened, as she watched the door.

"Petra!" Levi threw the door open. "I told you not to fucking go… inside."

Levi's hand remained on a doorknob, as he froze on a spot, his eyes wide and mouth open.

"P-petra?" after several seconds of looking at Hange, he turned to her. His gaze, which usually held so much indifference, was now filled with implore. Petra helplessly stared back, not knowing what to say. Not knowing what Levi needed to hear.

"It's me," Hange said, understanding what Levi needed without words. "It’s really me."

"Hange," Levi breathed out. His voice was filled with so much relief and happiness. He ran to her, almost knocking her to the ground. Instantly his arms circled around Hange, as he held her in an almost suffocating embrace.

It must have been painful, Petra thought. But Hange didn't seem to care. She wrapped her hands around Levi just as tightly.

“Please tell me this is not a dream,” Levi asked in a shaking whisper. He lifted his head to stare at Hange. “Please tell me you’re really here.”

“I’m here, Levi,” Hange replied, almost choking as she said his name. “I’m here, with you.”

"You are alive,” Levi spoke fervently in her shirt. "Hange, you really are alive, I can’t believe it."

Hange moved one hand to Levi's head, stroking his hair gently. "You can't get rid of me that easily, shorty."

Levi softly chuckled, not making a single move to untangle himself from Hange.

They would probably stay like this for a very long time, Petra concluded. They more than deserved it. And they also deserved some privacy.

So Petra picked up the gun that was still lying on the ground and then quietly walked out of the room.

Before she closed the door, she threw one last glance at the still embracing couple.

So that was Hange Zoe, huh? A person, who can make Levi come completely undone with just her presence?

Petra smiled to herself. These two suffered for so long. She was glad that they finally managed to find each other again.

[asknerdizzy]

Sirens Call Arc 3/3

“Did you kill all of these people!?” Izzy exclaimed mortified at the scene before her. Haven herself had to looked away from Kerberos holding her hand up to her mouth.

“No f***ing sh** Sherlock. Did you figure that out all by yourself toots?” He drawled out, not at all fazed by the carnage he had created.

“Now if you a**hats could get out of my way. That would be fan-f***ing-tastic. Or would you like to join the lot of ‘em”

“That won’t be happening.” Shard glared having his stand [Another Way Out] put up a barrier that surrounded Kerberos.

With a smirk Kerberos looks up and down Shard humming to himself. “You’ll be fun. I’m Kerberos, and this is my little friend [Pink Party].” Setting down the Stand Bow to the ground. A pink looking stand with a muzzle appears behind Kerberos in the barrier. The Stand proceeds to rapidly claws at the barrier, soon tearing it to shreds.

Shard takes a step back shocked as Kerberos pounces at him. As he does this, [Pink Party] destroy/ the floor beneath the two of them. Having them fall to the next floor. Izzy scrambles over and grabs the bow, and tries to go after Shard. Ready to jump in after him, but she’s,stopped by Haven.

“Now that he’s distracted we can get the bow to a safe location.”

“But I can’t just sit here while Shard is fighting that man! I should back him up however I can.”

“I think Shard can take care of himself. Either way, you don’t know the situation enough to go jumping down there Willy nilly. You could get in the way, or worse, get hurt.

Izzy thought it over and reluctantly had to agree.

“Let’s go to the roof. It’ll be hard for anyone to try and get us from up there.”

Izzy looks over at the hole, and reluctantly follows Haven. Wishing the best for Shard.

———————————————————————

Meanwhile Shard and Kerberos land with a loud thud on top of a huge aquarium full of colorful exotic fish. A crack forming at the impact, but the glass is somehow still intact.

Kerberos is the first one to get up. He crouched down as he allows his Stand [Pink Party] to scratch him for a partial transformation.. His wolffish grin becoming more feral as his canines grew to fangs, his nails extending into claws, and his ears becoming more wolf like.

“C’mon it’s time to Party! Come at me!” Kerberos growls out as he goes in low to slash at Shard. A barrier blocks the assault. With Shard deftly dodging out of the way.

Kerberos goes to attack Shard again in a flurry of blows. Leaving Shard with many cuts and bruisers as he keeps dodging each attack with his stand until he had an opening to upper cut Kerberos in the face.

His head flings back and he tumbles backward. However the opening made way for Kerberos to badly cut Shards arm in the process.

By how things were going so far Shard wouldn’t win. It was time for a different plan. Looking down he saw the cracks in the aquarium. That could work…

“I hope you like fish!” Shard uses [Another Way Out] and his own fist to further crack the aquarium until it finally broke underneath them.

“SH**!” Kerberos curses as he falls, fully submerging into the aquarium, while Shard stands on top of a barrier to keep him out of the water.

Trying to swim back up Kerberos is blocked by multiple barriers. Angry gurgling and pounding ensue, as Kerberos keeps trying to get out of the water. His best bet was trying to break the glass on the sides or swim up, but he keeps getting bombarded by barriers. Making it impossible for him to do any substantial damage to escape.

After a few minutes Kerberos passes out much to Shards relief. He mulls over if he should save him, and ultimately decides to jump in and drag Kerberos out. He should have some information that could be useful to the SPW. First and foremost Shard puts anti-stand cuffs before he starts to preform CPR on the man. Coughing out water Kerberos becomes alert for a moment, but passes right back with a swift karate chop from Shard to the neck.

Shard slumps over wet and exhausted on a nearby table. He used some of his coat to wrap around the worst of his wounds as he caught his breath.

“Wait…Am I forgetting something? Sh** I left Izzy alone!”

He shoots back up with new vigor running back to the theater floor where he last saw her.

———————————————————————

Izzy and Haven make it up to the roof without any trouble. “Okay give me a moment I have to call the SPW for some backup.” Izzy readjusts the bow in her grip as she pulls out a portable phone. After a few back and forth Izzy hangs up.

“They should be here any minute now. All we got to do is wait up here.”

“I-mmh-this may be unprofessional of me, but can we do a victory hug. This is my first mission and it being a successful and all….” She trails off bashful about her request.

“It’s totally fine! Come here.” Izzy pulls the taller woman into a big hug.

“It’s too bad that I have to do this.” Haven says as she brings out a dagger tipped with paralysis venom, plunging it into Izzy’s back. “We could have been such good friends, but you just had to commit the deadly sin of getting in my way.” Havens voice becomes intertwined with a deep masculine voice. As they push the dagger deeper into the paralyzed Izzy. They stab her again and again in multiple areas to make sure that she couldn’t do anything, and pushes her to the ground.

Everything was happening so fast she couldn’t react. Izzy coughed up blood, and found herself unable to summon her Stand. Internally she was panicking, and starting to get woozy from the loss of blood. She looks up at Haven trying to figure out what was happening. If she had to guess, it appeared as if there were two separate beings in front of her, but using the same body in harmony.

How could she have been so stupid to be tricked like this so easily.

“You should really consider not using code words. I just had to torture one of your members for it and you completely trusted me. Though I think it helps that I’m such a good actor.” They say more so to themselves, as they yank the bow out of Izzy’s hands. “Now I think I’ll be taking this.”

———————————————————————

Ardram finally arrives at the casino running inside. As he’s running he fetches the watch inside his coat, and opens it revealing a tiny bunny Stand inside. “Okay where is she!?”

“Noneedtobesorude. She’sotheroof.” [Out Of Touch] blurts out rapidly. Ardram clamps the watch shut, putting it back into his pocket. He full on sprints up, pushing whatever gets in his way to the side

Once he reaches the roof he found horrible scene unfolding before his eyes. A passed out Izzy lying in a pool of her own blood, and a blond haired individual, with a flickering being next to them. It wasn’t a Stand, but he couldn’t care less at that moment as he saw the blond standing over Izzy about to plunge a dagger into her chest.

Immediately Ardram uses [Fools Gold] to have a gold spike come up and try to impale the offending individual. They dodge at the last moment and look over at Ardram with a smirk.

“I think that’s our cue to leave.”

“Oh no you f***ing don’t.” Ardram yells with a look of pure unbridled rage on his face. As gold starts to cover the roof.

“Oh, I think I will.” They say as they go over to the ledge of the roof. “You could one, fight me right now, but she’ll certainly bleed out to death before our spar ends. Or two, you could ignore me and get her to a doctor. In the hopes that she’ll live. I think we both know which choice you’re going to make.”

Ardram just grits his teeth as he runs over and gently picks up Izzy. “I’m going to f***ing kill you once I see you again.”

“Oh do try. It’ll be a futile effort though.” With that Haven jumps off the building. Shadows enveloping them into darkness. Leaving no trace of them ever being there or the Stand Bow.

Ardram runs down holding Izzy’s body close to his own. He could still hear and feel her heart beat, and she was still warm to the touch. She could make it. She will make it.

He finds Shard when he running over to him looking quite pale , but looks even paler once he sees the horrible state Izzy is in. Ardram reluctantly hands her over to Shard with an unreadable expression on his face. “Heal her.”

Shard summons his Stand trying to stabilize her enough for when the paramedics would arrive. Ardram had to walk out for a moment to collect himself. He wasn’t much help when it came to trying to keep people alive, unless he made them undead. He found himself in the theater where the auction happened

Ariel stirs, and opens her eyes to see Ardram. She knew who he was from the debriefing her boss gave her, and by the look on his face the plan worked. She grins wanting to gloat their victory to the vampires face, “Looks like the boss’s plan worked. Is the pint sized b**** dead, or is it that masked freak? Hopefully both of em are rotting.” She cruelly laughs.

Without a word a gold spike erupts and pierces Ariels skull. Killing her instantly. “Oops, my hand slipped.” He numbly states, not even sparring a glance at the woman. He leaves the room once he hears the sound of sirens and rapid footsteps approaching.

[bruhstories]

Will You Finish the Song?

Summary: Reader grew up with Illidan Stormrage. Everything was peachy until he betrayed everyone. Lusting for power, he turned to the dark side, while Y/N prepared for war. Pairing: Illidan Stormrage x High Elf!Reader Warnings: language, sadness and a nude reader Word Count: 1313

A/N: sooo this was supposed to be a multi-chapter fic but I didn’t wanna ruin it so there you go – one angsty piece of fiction.

Illidan felt his body give up. He pushed himself to his limits and so did his army of Illidari. Whoever was in charge of the Alliance division was a fine strategist. On the opposite side of the battlefield, Y/N felt exhaustion creep into her muscles and mind, and witnessed soldiers collapsing from fatigue. She knew the Legion would never give up but the lives of her soldiers were more important than her revenge. It's what she's been taught by Jaina. And one battle lost didn't mean they lost the entire war. She ordered the retreat and created a portal back to Dalaran while burning demons to a crisp. Y/N knew she was low on mana and made a difficult decision: she'd close the portal and stay behind. If everything went according to plan, all she had to do was stay hidden until she’d recover enough strength and mana to zap herself to the nearest Alliance city. "Eriser!" She called the dwarven warrior, "Take the men and go! We can't win!" "Not without you, lass!" Eriser replied, slashing his way through hordes of demons. "Yes without me! I can't hold it any longer, go, please!" "Men, retreat! RETREAT!" The dwarf yelled his lungs out. "Y/N, go through the fucking portal!"

"I'm sorry, Eriser..." she whispered, teleporting the warrior to Dalaran with the little mana she had left. She closed the portal, summoned her mount and ran for her dear life. As much as she wanted to stay and rip Illidan's heart out, she couldn't do that if she was dead. Calculating her next move, Y/N decided she'd hide in a cave, rest and recover, and then teleport herself to Dalaran. Even her Gryphon grew tired of flying so much, so when Y/N found a cave she retreated there. The first thing she did once she felt safe was to pull out her map and estimate where she was. Since the fight was in the North of Hellfire Peninsula and she flew straight South, Lyn guessed she was in Shadowmoon Valley, close to Terokkar Forest. "Fuck." The high elf whispered. "Fuck, fuck, FUCK!"

Demons were in swarms in Shadowmoon Valley and Illidan himself lived in the Black Temple. Y/M had to make a quick recovery and teleport herself as soon as possible. She didn't have enough mana to conjure something to eat or drink so she had to do this the hard way and just rest in enemy territory. Fortune was in her favour, though, at least for now, as the cave seemed uninhabited by any creature. Y/N ventured deeper into the cave and found a spring and a space she could bathe in.  She stripped her armour and robe and soaked her feet into the cold water, eventually sinking her body into it. The water made her shiver but she got used to it after a while, embracing the cold. Y/N carefully cleaned her wounds and since no one was around to hear her, she sang a song.  "Are you going to Darkmoon Faire:           Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.                   Remember me to one who lives there.                               She once was a true love of mine." She sighed. She was so obsessed with avenging her family that she never thought of starting her own. To be fair, she didn't think it was possible to find love or even raise a child in such a... plagued world. And to think that she used to be in love with the very man she’s now fighting.  "Tell her to make me a cambric shirt            Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme                    Without no seams nor needle work                            Then she'll be a true love of mine."

"Your singing is as beautiful as your military strategies." A voice disturbed her ballad. She froze in place, not because of the cold water, but because she knew she was going to die soon. "Illidan Stormrage. Betrayer!" Y/N hurled a ball of fire to her enemy, a mistake which cost her more time to recover, as she almost lost balance and had to lean on rock for support. "Save your mana, mage. I'm not here to fight." Illidan dismissed her and her fireball. "I wouldn't attack someone who can't defend herself." He added, taking a seat on a stumpy stone and groaning from the pain of his wounds. "You took everything from me! My parents, my brother! He was only a boy!" She cried out, the pain in her own wounds incapacitating her as well. Illidan sighed. He was oh so tired of people not understanding his sacrifices. He didn't betray his kind, he saved them. He will save them. The demon unwrapped the bandages covering what was supposed to be his eyes and rubbed his forehead. The mage was confused, enraged and slightly embarrassed. His blindness didn’t stop him from seeing her figure, he just couldn’t distinguish her features. "Do something! Say something, you fucking monster-" "I didn't kill your family!" Illidan cut through her words, his voice louder than hers. "I did not kill your family, the Legion did. And you, just like everyone else, think I betrayed you when in fact, you all betrayed me." He finally shut up, his last words mere whispers that echoed in the cave. Y/N’s lower lip trembled. She was on the verge of crying, and she hadn't shed a tear in ages. Was this demon delusional? He joined the enemy, he turned his back against his race, his people. She moved to the edge of the pool and dressed herself in her robe, the material and hugging her curves. "You..." Illidan spoke again, "Should understand what it means to sacrifice yourself for the greater good." Y/N watched him carefully, a brow raised at his affirmation. "I watched you on the battlefield. You took your chances and made a choice, knowing exactly what risks that choice entailed. For your people, not for yourself. You were willing to die for them." He continued. "And I joined the Legion so I could strike it from its very core." The elf pondered Illidan's words. And in a way, what he said made sense. But he was still a demon. And demons were nothing but cruel liars. A minute ago she was ready to slit his throat for killing his family, now she's confused and clueless. "But," he added, "you and your Alliance are never going to trust a demon. It's understandable. I'm sorry for your loss but don't blame me for what the Legion did. I am not the Legion. And I will never be the Legion." Silence echoed through the cave for what seemed like an eternity, and the only sounds that could be heard were the beatings of their hearts and the ripples of the water. Y/N shed a tear, after holding back for so many years, she shed a tear. And after it, another came. And another. And another until her cheeks were wet, the salty drops dripping down her chin and neck. "I've spent lifetimes learning how to fight. Learning how to kill. Learning how to kill you! I never wanted this life and after so many decades you expect me to give it up? What, because you're innocent?" Y/N shattered the silence with her broken voice. "No, I expect you to keep fighting and never give up until either you or the Legion are out of breath." "I- wh-." She stuttered. Her glossy eyes looked into his fiery orbs. "Will you just finish the song?" Illidan asked, his voice softer than ever, if that was even possible. “Please.” She nodded. "Tell him to find me an acre of land        Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme           Between the salt water and the sea strand                Then he'll be a true love of mine.   Are you going to Darkmoon Faire?         Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme            Remember me to one who lives there                  He once was a true love of mine." 

[teenwolffanclub-me]

Season 1, Episode 5: The Tell (Part One)

Hey there beautiful reader! If you’re new here, this is a series I’m writing where each chapter is an episode from the first season of Teen Wolf. If you’ve been here before, hey! I missed you! Previous and future chapters are linked at the end of each part if you want to catch up.

Pairing: Stiles x Psychic! Reader (eventually)

P.S. Stiles and Y/N have a sleepover (things are happening!!) and Jackson just got on the struggle bus.

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

“Whoa, whoa. Slow down.” I sat forward in the passenger seat and put a calming hand on Allison’s arm. 

She took a deep breath and slowly relaxed her iron grip on the steering wheel. If she kept freaking out the way she was, we’d be laying in a ditch instead of making it to school.

“I’m telling you, Y/N. Something is really not right.” Her voice trembled as she spoke, clearly very upset. 

“Just...start over.” I shook my head, not even clear about what she was trying to tell me.

She let out a slow sigh. “Last night, I found broken glass on the window of my aunt’s car.”

“Okay?” I prodded, glancing at the road to make sure she was driving straight again. 

“So they both lied! My dad said she needed a jump, and she said she ran out of gas. Clearly something else happened if her window was broken. But...that isn't even the worst part.”

I nodded encouragingly so she would continue. She needed to just spit it out already. I really wanted to know if this freak out was supernatural related or not. After helping save Derek’s life and learning that the Argents are werewolf hunters, it was hard for me to believe that anything in this town wasn't supernatural related. 

“I heard her and my dad talking.” Her knuckles turned white again as her grip tightened on the wheel. “She said she was attacked by something. And...and that she shot Derek Hale.”

I choked on my own spit and began coughing aggressively, but she didn't seem to notice beyond her growing hysterics. 

“They were talking about packs, and an alpha, and some code...and I sound crazy, don't I?” Tears were streaming down her face now and my chest tightened uncomfortably. 

I wanted to tell her everything. She was so close to figuring it out on her own, anyway, but Scott and Stiles had made me swear not to tell anyone the things I’d learned. I knew it would be dangerous for Scott, but what about Allison? She was caught up in this too, she just had no idea. How would she protect herself if she didn't even know what was going on half the time?

“Hey, no, no. You don't sound crazy at all.” I soothed, placing my hand back on her arm. She let out a quiet sob and sniffled, wiping her nose with her sleeve. “That’s definitely weird. What do you think it means?”

She threw her hands up, suddenly angry. The tears were gone. “I don't know.” She looked my way, determination swimming behind her eyes. “But I’m going to find out.”

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

“Hoosiers is not only the best basketball movie ever, it’s the best sports movie ever made.”

“No.”

“It’s got Gene Hackman and Dennis Hopper.”

“No.”

“Lydia, I swear to God, you’re gonna like it!”

“No.”

“I am not watching The Notebook again.”

The car fell into silence. I just rolled my eyes at Jackson and Lydia’s bickering. It was all you could do, really. The two of them fought so much, I was honestly surprised they were still together. They had quite possibly the most toxic relationship I’d ever seen. 

Lydia turned and looked at him expectantly, and he folded. Like he always did. Allison snickered from beside me, enjoying his pain way too much. It was bad enough the poor guy had to have a movie night with his girlfriend and her two best friends. The least we could do was pick a movie everyone would enjoy.

He moved to get out of the car, and a sudden wave of nausea hit me. I clutched at my stomach and winced. 

“You okay?” Allison turned to me, her brow furrowing in concern. 

As he walked toward the store, my uneasy feeling only got worse. I knew I had to go with him, or something terrible was going to happen. 

“I’m gonna go help him.” I huffed and popped my door open. 

Lydia rolled her eyes and pulled her phone out, opening the camera to take selfies under the florescent lights. “Suit yourself.”

Once inside, Jackson and I walked through the narrow isles. The shelves were small, only coming up to my shoulder, so we got a clear view of the entire store. It was completely deserted, which only added to my anxiety. It was a week night, sure, but there was no way we should be the only people in here. 

“Can someone help me find The Notebook?” Jackson called, only to be met with eerie silence. “Hello?”

“Is anybody even working here?” I asked, my eyes shifting up to one of the lights that was flickering above us. There was a ladder beneath it, suggesting that someone was here at one point. On the other side of the store, the phone began ringing. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Jackson muttered, clearly annoyed by the whole situation. 

I got the impression that he wasn’t picking up the weird energy in here the way I was. Something just wasn't right. I could feel it. 

Just then, I caught sight of a pair of shoes at the end of an isle in front of us. But they weren't standing there browsing like us. No, they were laying down, almost as if they were...

“Jackson.” I breathed, and he stopped beside me. “We should go.”

He just scoffed and continued walking. “You know Lydia will kill me if I don't get this movie.”

I couldn't take my eyes off the shoes. My heart began racing in my chest. He seemed to finally take notice as his quick steps faltered.

“What the hell is that?” He kept moving toward it, so I had no choice but to follow. 

I didn't want to be alone in here, even if he was only a few feet away. I shuffled close to his back and peered around his shoulder as we approached the shoes. A gasp tore through me as the sight of a dead man came into view. He was slumped over against the shelf, his throat slashed open. Blood coated every nearby surface. I staggered back a step, horrified. 

Jackson did the same, accidentally knocking over the ladder that was just behind him. The lights flickered and sparks shot out of the ceiling panel as the whole thing came crashing down. A deep, animalistic growl sounded from the other end of the store and we both froze. 

We weren't alone. 

We shared a wide-eyed look, both of our breathing labored. I turned and, through the darkness, saw two glowing red eyes. The thing growled again and I shoved Jackson behind a nearby shelf, choosing the one next to it for myself. I pressed my back against the hard surface, trying to slow my rapid breathing. This was so not the time to have a panic attack. 

Jackson’s terrified eyes met mine before he slowly leaned around to see what was going on. At the sound of shuffling, he whipped back into place. I swallowed thickly, my body beginning to tremble with fear. A few movies were knocked off a nearby shelf and I stiffened. It was close.

Then, each shelf in the line Jackson was hiding in began tumbling down. I called his name in a panic, but it was too late. Within seconds, he was trapped beneath the heavy pile. He tried to jump out of the way, so only his lower half ended up caught. But he still couldn't move. 

He struggled for a few seconds before I stood to help. At the sound of heavy breathing, I froze. I was completely paralyzed by fear. I couldn't have moved even if I wanted to. All I could do was watch as the most terrifying monster I’d ever seen hovered over him. 

It was all black, and huge. It looked like it was covered in fur, but I couldn't see very well under the low lighting. It huffed out harsh breaths as it inspected Jackson, it’s head tilting back and forth as it did. It had a long snout, like a dog, and razor sharp teeth. It lifted a giant paw and delicately peeled back the collar of Jackson’s leather jacket with its long claws. It’s head lifted slowly, it’s bright red eyes locking on mine. 

And then, it was gone. It bolted toward the entrance and jumped through one of the windows, which shattered instantly. A high pitched scream echoed through the night as the thing fled the scene. 

I jumped to my feet to help Jackson, who seemed frozen in shock. He had no idea what the hell just happened, but I had a guess.

It was the alpha. It had to be.

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

I sat beside Lydia, my arm wrapped around her shoulders comfortingly. She was still shaking twenty minutes later. After the alpha ran off, she and Allison had come barreling into the store. They saw the dead body, rightfully freaked out, and helped me free Jackson. 

An ambulance arrived shortly after, which is where we all sat now. I was shaken up, yes, but I more so just wanted my questions answered. I wanted to know who the alpha was, and why they were running around murdering innocent people in Beacon Hills.

Sirens sounded close by and the Sheriff’s car pulled up. My eyes instantly found Stiles through the passenger window. His lips parted in shock and he moved to take his seatbelt off, but his dad put an arm across his chest. He said something, and Stiles sagged against his seat looking defeated. 

As soon as the Sheriff stepped out, he practically smooshed his face against the window to get a closer look at the scene. 

“Paul, let’s get this area locked up.” The Sheriff called, putting on a pair of back gloves as he walked our way. 

A crowd had gathered, too, which only raised my anxiety. There was a chance the alpha could come back, and I didn't think it would stop at just one victim this time. 

“Why the hell can’t I just go home? I’m fine.” Jackson barked at Sheriff Stilinski the second he joined us. 

“I hear ya, but the EMT says you hit your head pretty hard. They just wanna make sure you don't have a concussion.” The Sheriff tried to reason with him, something I’d learned was almost always a losing effort. 

“What part of I’m fine are you not grasping? Okay? I want to go home.” Jackson took a step into his personal space and raised his voice. 

Lydia frowned and laid her head into my chest, so I pulled her in tighter. The small glimpse she’d gotten of the alpha had really scared her, and now Jackson was making it worse by refusing to cooperate.

“And I understand—”

“No, you don't understand!” Jackson only got louder. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Stiles slowly getting out of his dads car. “Which kind of blows my mind because it should be a pretty basic concept to grasp for a minimum wage rent-a-cop like you! Now, I want to go home!”

A beat of tense silence passed before two paramedics rolled a gurney out of the store. I grimaced, knowing exactly what was under the white sheet. 

“Oh, whoa! Is that a dead body?” Stiles called, drawing everyone’s attention to him. 

His dad sent him a disappointed glare and he awkwardly slithered back into the car, his cheeks turning pink.

“Everybody back up.” The Sheriff sighed. “Back up.”

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

I turned onto my right side, squeezing my eyes shut tightly. With a huff, I flipped onto my back and tugged my blanket over my head. I forced my eyes to remain closed despite the horrible images flashing behind them. I’d been trying to sleep for hours, but I couldn't stop thinking about the alpha. 

I’d been so close to dying. I mean, it had looked right at me. But it didn't hurt me or Jackson. I wanted to know why. It didn't make any sense. The thing hadn't hesitated to kill the movie store employee, so why let us go?

I froze as the sound of rustling outside my window caught my attention. Slowly, I lowered the blanket and swept my eyes across the room. I was still alone. I was completely alone, actually. Mom was working the night shift again. I chewed on my bottom lip as I realized I still hadn't told her what happened. What would I even say?

Hey, mom. I ran into a homicidal werewolf tonight, but it’s all good. It let me go for some reason.

She would definitely make us move again, and I couldn't let that happen. I was starting to really like it here, despite the weird and dangerous situations I kept getting thrown into. 

Just then, my window was shoved open and something thumped to the hardwood floors. I bolted upright and shoved my back against my bedroom wall, trying to get as far away from whatever it was as possible. My breath hitched and my throat constricted painfully. 

My mind was racing. It could be the alpha coming back to kill me, or a random burglar, or maybe something worse. The thing moved around on my floor with a groan. 

With trembling fingers I fished for my phone in my heap of blankets. Once I found it, I slowly turned the flashlight on, making sure it wasn't visible yet. I took a deep breath and prepared myself for the worst before jerking it upward. 

A scream tore through me as the light illuminated a very startled looking Stiles, who was standing at the edge of my bed. He squinted and covered his eyes before smiling sheepishly. I put a hand on my chest and let my phone fall onto the bed. My heart was still pounding as I leaned across my mattress to flick on the lamp. 

“God, Stiles. What the hell are you doing?” My voice sounded angry and breathless, even to my own ears. 

He played with his fingers and raised his eyebrows. “Checking on you.” 

A few beats of silence passed between us, and I realized that tears had gathered in my eyes. That was so unnecessarily terrifying. 

“In the middle of the night.” I deadpanned, trying to calm my racing heart. 

“Yeah.” He smiled his charming lopsided smile, as if he didn't realize how that was so majorly not okay. 

“You can’t just sneak into my house to check on me.” I insisted, despite the way my chest swelled at the thought of him worrying about me. 

“Well, I couldn't just knock. It's the middle of the night.” He chuckled quietly at his own joke. 

I sent him a glare and an unwanted tear escaped the corner of my eye. I internally cursed myself for not wiping them away earlier. His face softened at the sight and I looked away from him, embarrassed. He quickly closed the distance between us, kneeling on my bed with one knee. 

“Hey, I’m sorry.” His voice dropped to a whisper as he cupped my cheek and caught my tear with his thumb. “I wasn't thinking. I’ll go.”

My hand wrapped around his wrist before he could fully pull away. “Will you stay?” 

Now that he was here, I realized how much I didn't want to be alone right now. My overaction just now showed me how much I was actually worked up over this whole thing. I’d pushed it away earlier, but I was still really scared. 

Stiles nodded with a small smile. His warm caramel eyes flickered over my face and he cleared his throat before releasing his hold on me and pushing himself up off my bed. He rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly and glanced around my room. 

I chewed on my bottom lip and fiddled with the blankets at my waist. “You can sit, you know.”

His eyes widened. “Uh. Yeah. I was just, you know...um.”

“Relax, Stilinski. I’m not gonna take advantage of you.” I rolled my eyes with a chuckle. I’d never seen him so uncomfortable. 

“Right. Obviously. Okay. Um...how do you...where should I...?” He scratched at the side of his head and didn't look any closer to moving, so I grabbed one of his hands and pulled him down.

He flailed at the unexpected movement and flopped onto the bed next to me. He scrambled up instantly and pushed his back up against my headboard. He sat there, stiff as a board, his legs crossed and his hands at his sides. 

I laughed at his frenzied state. “You’re the one that climbed into my window. Why are you being such a spaz?”

“I didn’t think I’d get this far.” He muttered and started playing with his hands again. “I’ve never, uh...been in a girls bed before.”

My eyebrows rose in surprise. He was an attractive guy, so I found that a little hard to believe. “Seriously?”

“Yes, I know. My lack of sexual experience is laughable.” He finally looked at me and rolled his eyes in annoyance. 

I shifted into a more comfortable position, letting my legs stretch out in front of me. I leaned back on my hands, now facing Stiles. Our feet were almost touching. 

“It’s not that. I haven’t either. Been in a guys bed, I mean.” I stammered, suddenly feeling nervous. I hadn't been alone with a guy in a long time. And it was Stiles. He always made me just a little flustered. 

His gaze lifted from his hands slowly, his eyes moving across my legs, then my torso, before finally stopping on my face. I swallowed under his intense stare, unable to look away from his eyes. They were so beautiful, and expressive. When he was happy, they shimmered with a light honey color. If he was scared or angry, they dulled just a little into more of a burnt caramel. Right now there was an unreadable emotion swirling in them. 

I decided to go out on a limb. “Have you ever...kissed a girl?”

I watched his breath catch in his throat as his lips parted. He stammered, looking shocked by my question, and I could’ve sworn he started hyperventilating. “A c-couple.”

“Then you’re not a lost cause.” I sighed. That meant he had me beat. I’d never stayed in one place long enough to have a boyfriend. I hadn't even had my first kiss yet. It was pretty pathetic, actually. 

“Have you?” He asked, sounding breathless. 

I chuckled, deciding it couldn't hurt to mess with him a bit. “Kissed a girl?” 

His cocked his head in annoyance and looked at me expectantly. 

“Um.” I was back to chewing on my lip uncomfortably. “No. I haven't.”

“Nice.” He let out a relieved huff with a small smile, but backtracked at the sight of my glare. “I mean, it’s just good to know I’m not the only one who sucks at that stuff.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”

Feeling a sudden wave of tiredness wash over me, I pushed myself up onto my knees and leaned across the bed to flick my light off. I realized too late, after my arm was already outstretched toward the switch, that I had gotten myself way too close to Stiles. Our faces were only inches apart, and I was practically sitting on top of him. 

His throat bobbed as he gulped. His eyes trailed over my form slowly, starting with my bare legs that rested on either side of his. Oh yeah, I’d completely forgotten that I was only wearing an oversized t-shirt. Up until now, my lower half had been covered up by my blankets, but they’d fallen away when I moved. 

Stiles’ eyes met mine and my breath caught. I only had a split second to study the mix of emotions in them before he glanced down at my lips. 

Oh, God. Is this really about to happen?

My eyes fluttered shut as we inched closer together. I wasn't even trying to. It was like my body had developed a mind of it’s own. His nose brushed against mine, then his lips in a feather light touch, just as thunder suddenly cracked in the distance. 

We bolted away from each other, both breathing heavily. We shared a long, wide-eyed look while trying to collect ourselves. 

“Um—” I started, my heart going right back to beating erratically. 

I can’t believe I just almost kissed Stiles. My friend. What the hell am I thinking?

“I...” He looked petrified by what had just happened. His eyes were wide and his whole face was beet red.  

“Sorry.” We both muttered in unison. 

A long beat of silence passed between us, and I cleared my throat, feeling incredibly awkward.

“That was...um...”

“I can go.” Stiles interrupted, but didn't move a muscle. “If you want.”

I chewed on my bottom lip, surely about to break the skin this time, and shook my head. I still didn't want to be alone. “It’s okay. Just turn off the light.”

He nodded in understanding and complied, blanketing us in darkness instantly. I crawled beneath my comforter, silently offering him to do the same. Within minutes I was fast asleep, surprised by how peaceful it felt to lay beside him. 

And, for the first time since moving here, I didn't have a single dream. 

Episode 4       Episode 5, Part Two