#he handles everything even getting a stone duplicate

[petrichoraline]

poor tao, he calculates and recalculates and gets nagged at daily and he handles a whole investigation so he goes away for a while and when he comes back san has not only accepted his love for a man, he's done all but legally marrying wee. and also he smiles like a fool all the time now

[casperiusandmartenique]

12

When Casperius makes it to the kitchen things take an interesting turn..

When Casperius made it down to the kitchen, Cormoran was leaned back against the counter in front of the large sink while Sioban and Martenique were sitting at the round dark wooden table sipping tea from fine china cups with their heads close together talking low and soft about something.  Both women were smiling and looked relaxed.  He noticed a small, empty plate between them with some crumbs.  It seemed they had at least had a snack while he and Horace had finished their conversation.

The stone floors of the room normally echoed when walked on with hard soled shoes, so he was careful to measure his footfalls to not disturb the two women who were speaking in a language he did not understand.  So, it seemed his cook knew sprite, or maybe they knew a common language.  Martenique having someone she could speak freely within the manor would not be a bad thing.  As he passed behind her, on his way over to his brother, he let his fingers gently dance across Martenique’s back between her shoulder blades, the feel of her soft skin under his calloused fingertips soothing him in a way that not even demon’s brew could.  Her head tipped up to look at him, and he was even more resolute that he would find whoever had put her in danger and they would pay, very painfully.  

 "Continue your talk, Teni, I need to talk to Cor."  Casperius' fingers softly caressed her cheek, as he momentarily paused to bestow an affectionate smile upon her, and receive one in return.  She was so damn precious to him that his heart was still thundering at the thought of losing her to either his brother, or interference of others.

When he turned to continue over to where Cormoran stood, he had to roll his eyes at his brother’s expression.   It wasn't just the smirk, that was a common sight, it was the whole smug ass expression painted from his eyebrows to the set of his strong jaw.  It all spoke to how his brother knew Martenique was someone more than just a body to warm his bed and ride his cock. 

"You know Horace wasn't completely wrong." Cormoran said low once Casperius had assumed a duplicate stance next to him.  "You may not like hearing it, but you haven't acted like a male in a relationship."

Casperius' eyes squeezed shut and he breathed out heavily, a weight settling on him he'd been trying to avoid.  "Teni and I are not intimate." Even as he was keeping his voice low, he had opened his eyes to keep a close watch on her.  Knowing about Emma would destroy her, he was sure, and he had no one to blame but himself.  "I hadn't thought she would be here this fast.  I thought I had time to get things sorted." Another heavy sigh as the weight of his lie and the ones he'd have to tell her in the near future bore down on him further.

“Well, you don’t.  So you had better think osomething very fast, or you are going to have a mess.  A mess is the last thing we need after what happened earlier today.  Not to mention what just happened in the hallway, and figuring out who clued our little brother in on the fact that she exists.” Cormoran’s tone was reproachful.  He was tired and on edge.  While he had gotten some sleep, it had not been enough and he was now on edge after the argument in the hallway.  That Sioban and Martenique were getting along was at least a positive sign.

“I’m well aware.  I’ll have Visalus handle Emma.  He is more than capable of distracting her.” Casperius’ eyebrows rose as his eyes rolled.  That was a nice way of putting it.  It was not that he cared, it had only been carnal between them, and at least this would make it easier in the end.  That was one thing down. “We need to focus on figuring out who would talk to Matty.  Someone did, and that means that everything that we talk about could be getting to him.”

Cormoran scoffed and shook his head.  “You’d better hope so, little brother." Already in his mind he was developing plans to handle the fallout of his brother's mistakes.  Martenique was beautiful and innocent, she did not deserve to be drug into Casperius' debauchery. 

Casperious looked at his brother and rolled his eyes. "I will take care of it. You can trust him. I will let nothing upset Martenique. She has become very important to me." He sighed in frustration and gave Cormoran a pointed look as he continued. "I have had Horus prepare the gardens for her. When have you known us to have gardens upon the estate?"  His eyebrows rose and he waited a couple beats before continuing.  "Never. Do you think I would go through all of this and then let her be upset because of a woman who means nothing? Hmm?" Once more his brows rose as he regarded his elder brother.

Cormorant looked at him, he knew his brother. He knew of his whims and ways. He knew that one woman rarely kept his attention and although Martenique was beautiful, she was not of the kind that his brother normally found to be of interest. She was short, and while she was proportional, she did not have the curves that normally caught his brother's eye. She was not a succubus, an incubus, or a lust demon that had all of the attributes that would drive any male, of any type, to desire her. Her face would be what could be described as sweet. It was not one that would inspire men to fall at her feet with desire. What could be inspiring his brother now to take all of these actions did mystify him. Casperius was normally one to only go after the most beautiful of women. Women who upon the Earth would be considered models or actresses, those who were desired by many. And while Martinique was certainly beautiful, she was neither of those. 

"If you are not careful, you will destroy her. You will not need Matty to come and capture her and fill her head with his manipulations and destruction. You will do it yourself. I am not sure why you have done this. I'm not sure why you have decided such an innocent creature should be brought into our world. But if you do not take care, then I will have to take action." There was a firmness and directness in Cormoran’s voice, a seriousness in his whole demeanor that bled into the ether around him.

He couldn't even tell his brother why he had made such a declaration other than their brother had destroyed too many people to get back at them to allow one more to be destroyed for nothing more than Casperius' whim.

As he looked at the woman sitting there with Sioban talking in some fae tongue that neither he nor Casperius could understand, the joy and the radiance that came off of her was infectious. Just watching the two women talk made him smile but he also remembered the fear on her face when she walked out to see the three of them fighting in the hallway. He remembered having to go rescue her because their brother had shown up in her realm and decided he was going to try and kidnap her. Another victim of being in their lives. 

Cormorant couldn't take another woman being destroyed on his conscience. When Matthias did it was one thing, the Casperius doing it was a completely different one. He could stop that. He could control that. He could save her. Maybe just once he could save one of the ones destined to be destroyed by his family. Maybe he could make her fall in love with him. Maybe he could change her eye from the wayward brother to the strong one. He was just as dirty, his hands had just as much blood on them, and he had written many of the contracts that conspirius enforced. But he was not as capricious, and his desires did not blow in the wind, ever changing with the tides. She would be safe. And she was more his type. She was the type that he could fall in love with. Sitting there watching her talk to the woman that currently occupied his bed, he found he was more drawn to the sprite. It would cause a fight with Caspirius, but it would not be the first one the Cormoran had.

[darkershining]

Almost caught up now. Just watched episode 30 of Wonderful Pretty Cure, in which Niko and the Cures try to figure out what to do next in the light of recent revelations.

The episode begins with Niko and Mey-Mey in front of the Mirror Stone, with Niko explaining she's the one who placed it there a long time ago and that it's a part of the Niko Diamond. She explains how it was meant to help humans and animals become friends, but there were also those who misused its power. She admits that she didn't know it could grant the Pretty Cures their power, and she's considering taking that power back so she can face Gaou at full power.

At the shrine hideout, Gaou has been informed of the Pretty Cures and how they've been interfering with the Garugaru. Torame and Zakuro aren't too concerned as they don't see the Cures as that big of a threat, but Gaou would rather not take any chances. With the Gaogaon rampaging around town, the people of Animal Town are told to stay inside.

Following the encounter with the wolves, Iroha is still at a loss of what to do. Mayu is not much better, still shaken up after seeing Iroha falling into self-doubt. Satoru is trying his best to research everything he can about wolves, not knowing what else to do. As he's about to give up, Daifuku thumps his foot to get Satoru's attention. As Satoru lets him out of his cage, Daifuku hops onto Satoru's office chair, silently urging him to continue his research and looking for possible solutions.

Back at the shrine, Zakuro wants to go take out the Pretty Cures in hopes of impressing Gaou, but Torame protests he should be the one to go since he's the one who unleashed the Gaogaon that's currently rampaging. The two get into a brief argument, before settling the matter with rock-paper-scissors, with Torame winning and heading off into town.

At Iroha's place, Komugi goes to cheer up Iroha. Komugi points out that she used to distrust humans as well, but was eventually able to become friends with Iroha, and how happy she is now that they've made so many more friends since. Komugi encourages Iroha to keep believing in her dream of befriending all animals, telling her that it might take a while, but there's still a chance they might be able to become friends with the wolves.

As the two finish their talk, Iroha's father lets them know that Satoru is calling, and Iroha goes to answer. Satoru explains that he saw one of the wolves heading into town on the news, and thought he should let her know, wishing he could do more to help. Iroha assures him he's already done plenty, and that she appreciates everything he's done for her and the other Cures.

At Mayu's place, Yuki helps Mayu calm down, and suggests they'd feel even better with the rest of the Cures, having finally accepted the idea of the four of them as one team. As everyone arrives at an empty mall where Torame has just summoned the Gaogaon, Yuki tells the other Cures that they should try working closer together this time instead of moving about separately. The Cures transform, but still have trouble against the Gaogaon and its duplicates.

Niko decides she'll take back their power and handle the rest on her own, but Mey-Mey protests, pointing out that the Cures have successfully rescued many animals that were turned into Garugaru. As the Cures get back onto their feet, each of them call in the help of a Kirarin Animal to even the odds. Mey-Mey tells Niko that it's not just the Kirarin Animals supporting them, but every animal in Niko Garden is cheering the Cures on.

Seeing the Cures' resolve, Niko decides to put her trust in them as well, and grants them a new power via the Diamond Ribbon Castle. With their new power, the Cures are able to purify the Gaogaon. Cure Friendy asks Torame to tell Gaou that they wish to meet with him. Torame is more amused by her request than anything, but since things look to be getting more interesting, he agrees to pass on her message before leaving. Cure Lillian and Cure Nyammy send the monkey back to Niko Garden.

Mey-Mey apologizes to Niko for disobeying her, worried she'll fire him from his butler position now. Niko gently assures him that she isn't flawless either, and that they should both keep doing their best. The episode ends with Niko introducing herself to Iroha's parents and asking them if she can stay over at their house for a while, while a shocked Mey-Mey asks her why she's not coming back to Niko Garden with him.

Another really good episode! So, now we hear Niko's side of the Mirror Stone legend, and her version gives a different explanation for why the Mirror Stone lost its power, with selfish humans having tried to take advantage of it. Part of me is wondering if Niko's account is the correct one and its as simple as that, or if there might be some truth to both versions of the legend we've heard.

Anyways, aside from some new info, it was nice seeing Mey-Mey standing up to the Cures when Niko considering taking her power back from them, and Niko deciding to entrust them with a new power. After the previous season didn't have the Cures get an outfit change with their mid-season power-up, they brought that element back for this one. It was also neat seeing the Cures officially coming together as one team, instead of two separate teams working together, with a nice display of character development from Yuki.

I'll be looking forward to seeing what happens next!

[autolovecraft]

I'll never get the picture out of my head as long as I live.

I saw the scars—ancient and whitened as they then were—I agreed that he was reduced to a profane fumbling as he made his halting way among the long boxes toward the latch. When he perceived that the latch was hopelessly unyielding, at least to such meager tools and under such tenebrous conditions as these, Birch glanced about for other possible points of escape. You kicked hard, for Asaph's coffin was on the floor. As he planned, he could not shake clear of the unknown grasp which held his feet in relentless captivity. When Dr. Davis left, urging Birch to insist at all times that his wounds were caused entirely by loose nails and splintering wood. I've seen sights before, but there was one thing too much here.

It must have been midnight at least when Birch decided he could get through the transom, and in the crawl which followed his jarring thud on the damp ground. He could, he was sure, get out by midnight—though it is characteristic of him that this thought was untinged with eerie implications. Armington, the lodge-keeper, answered his feeble clawing at the door. He was oddly anxious to know if Birch were sure—absolutely sure—of the identity of that top coffin of the pile; how he had chosen it, how he had distinguished it from the inferior duplicate coffin of vicious Asaph Sawyer. Davis, who died years ago. Birch.

He was curiously unelated over his impending escape, and almost dreaded the exertion, for his form had the indolent stoutness of early middle age. Another might not have relished the damp, odorous chamber with the eight carelessly placed coffins; but Birch in those days was insensitive, and professionally undesirable; yet I still think he was not an evil man.

He would not, he found, have to pile another on his platform to make the proper height; for the hole was on exactly the right level to use as soon as its size might permit.

In this funereal twilight he rattled the rusty handles, pushed at the iron panels, and wondered why the massive portal had grown so suddenly recalcitrant.

Steeled by old ordeals in dissecting rooms, the doctor entered and looked about, stifling the nausea of mind and body that everything in sight and smell induced. Another might not have relished the damp, odorous chamber with the eight carelessly placed coffins; but Birch in those days was insensitive, and was concerned only in getting the right coffin for the platform; for no sooner was his full bulk again upon it than the rotting lid gave way, jouncing him two feet down on a surface which even he did not get Asaph Sawyer's coffin by mistake, although it was very similar. He had, indeed, made that coffin for Matthew Fenner; but had cast it aside at last as too awkward and flimsy, in a fit of curious sentimentality aroused by recalling how kindly and generous the little old man had been to him during his bankruptcy five years before. The body was pretty badly gone, but if ever I saw vindictiveness on any face—or former face. In this funereal twilight he rattled the rusty handles, pushed at the iron panels, and wondered why the massive portal had grown so suddenly recalcitrant. He was merely crass of fiber and function—thoughtless, careless, and liquorish, as his easily avoidable accident proves, and without that modicum of imagination which holds the average citizen within certain limits fixed by taste. Only the coffins themselves remained as potential stepping-stones, and as he considered these he speculated on the best mode of transporting them. He was curiously unelated over his impending escape, and almost dreaded the exertion, for his form had the indolent stoutness of early middle age. Undisturbed by oppressive reflections on the time, the place, and the coffin niches on the sides and rear—which Birch seldom took the trouble to use—afforded no ascent to the space above the door. But it would be well to say as little as could be said, and to let no other doctor treat the wounds. When Dr. Davis left, urging Birch to insist at all times that his wounds were caused entirely by loose nails and splintering wood. His drinking, of course, only aggravated what it was meant to alleviate. Horrible pains, as of savage wounds, shot through his calves; and in his mind was a vortex of fright mixed with an unquenchable materialism that suggested splinters, loose nails, or some other attribute of a breaking wooden box. Over the door, however, the high, slit-like transom in the brick facade gave promise of possible enlargement to a diligent worker; hence upon this his eyes long rested as he racked his brains for means to reach it.

He was a bachelor, wholly without relatives.

He had, indeed, made that coffin for Matthew Fenner; but had cast it aside at last as too awkward and flimsy, in a fit of curious sentimentality aroused by recalling how kindly and generous the little old man had been to him during his bankruptcy five years before. Steeled by old ordeals in dissecting rooms, the doctor entered and looked about, stifling the nausea of mind and body that everything in sight and smell induced. His questioning grew more than medically tense, and his body responding with that maddening slowness from which one suffers when chased by the phantoms of nightmare. Being without superstition, he did not care to imagine. That he was not an evil man. Undisturbed by oppressive reflections on the time, the place, and the company beneath his feet, he philosophically chipped away the stony brickwork; cursing when a fragment hit him in the face, and laughing when one struck the increasingly excited horse that pawed near the cypress tree.

He cried aloud once, and a hammer and chisel selected, Birch returned over the coffins to the door. When Dr. Davis left Birch that night he had taken a lantern and gone to the old receiving tomb. Certainly, the events of that evening greatly changed George Birch. In this funereal twilight he rattled the rusty handles, pushed at the iron panels, and wondered why the massive portal had grown so suddenly recalcitrant. Armington helped Birch to the outside of a spare bed and sent his little son Edwin for Dr. Davis. He would not, he found, have to pile another on his platform to make the proper height; for the unexpected tenacity of the easy-looking brickwork was surely a sardonic commentary on the vanity of mortal hopes, and the emerging moon must have witnessed a horrible sight as he dragged his bleeding ankles toward the cemetery lodge; his fingers clawing the black mold in brainless haste, and his hands shook as he dressed the mangled members; binding them as if he wished to get the wounds out of sight as quickly as possible. You know what a fiend he was for revenge—how he ruined old Raymond thirty years after their boundary suit, and how he stepped on the puppy that snapped at him a succession of shuddering whispers that seared into the bewildered ears like the hissing of vitriol. His frightened horse had gone home, but his frightened wits never quite did that. But it would be well to say as little as could be said, and to use it when Asaph Sawyer died of a malignant fever. Birch, before 1881, had been the village undertaker of Peck Valley; and was a very calloused and primitive specimen even as such specimens go. The practices I heard attributed to him would be unbelievable today, at least in a city; and even Peck Valley would have shuddered a bit had it known the easy ethics of its mortuary artist in such debatable matters as the ownership of costly laying-out apparel invisible beneath the casket's lid, and the coffin niches on the sides and rear—which Birch seldom took the trouble to use—afforded no ascent to the space above the door. The afflicted man was fully conscious, but would say nothing of any consequence; merely muttering such things as Oh, my ankles! He was a scoundrel, and I don't blame you for giving him a cast-aside coffin!

[gale-gentlepenguin]

ML Fic: Soulmate Survey Part 36

Sorry about the delay. But now its here and its ready for consumption.

Also, Shout to @asongeverlasting for beta reading for me and making sure I actually got this out.

Check her writing out on AO3 as ShamelesslyRomantic,

(Master post)

(Read the fic in a more condensed on Ao3)

_____________________________________________________________

“Finished,” the artist akuma stated as he addressed his master.

Masquerade got up from her throne to look at the room. The classroom had been transformed into a rather spacious throne room. The artist had erased and redrawn walls to ensure the room was much larger. This new space also had several large windows adorned with elegant black and white curtains hanging from the top. Reflekta servants decked out in masquerade themed armor stood at attention on each step leading to her throne. Beautiful artwork of her decorated the walls, including an imposing portrait of her behind her throne that made it look as if she was looking down at everyone looking up at it. To her that came off as self-interested yet tasteful. The masked akuma even loved the addition of a red carpet that led up to her throne.

“This is quite satisfactory, Evillustrator. Just be sure to reinforce the walls of the room then head to the roof and locate Simularé. I want this place to be a fortress,” Masquerade ordered

“Understood,” the akuma nodded, his expression unreadable from the white face mask. He quickly headed to the door out of the room and Stone heart was guarding the door with his large frame and had to let the artist out.

“Gamer! Robostus! Status report!”

“We have made it so we could hack into every screen in Paris that is connected to the internet, as per your request,” the Gamer responded in monotone.

Masquerade smiled at that.

“Excellent. Do we have the cameras ready?”

The Reflekta copies near the robot akuma were being outfitted with recording gear.

“Affirmative, we will be ready to go live at your request.”

The masked akuma smiled at that news, she turned her attention to Princess Fragrance and the original Reflekta, who had just finished turning the last of the captured individuals into obedient copies of her.

“Has everyone in the school been rounded up and handled?”

“Dark Cupid and Reverser are doing a final sweep of any runaway stragglers. Stormy weather is going around flooding and freezing any empty hallways to flush out any that are hiding. There are Reflekta copies guarding the blocked off exits should anyone try and escape. But over 96% of the student body has been accounted for and 99% of all Faculty.” Princess Fragrance answered.

‘The missing ones are likely Marinette and Adrien. Those two never did make anything easy for me, did they? But it didn’t matter, their luck would run out soon enough. Once Ladybug and Chat noir were handled, then I could focus on making them pay,’ Masquerade grinned to herself.

She could picture how it would be, finding them and seeing their desperate faces as they realized that no hero would be able to save them. The first thing she would do was show them both her little empire. They thought she was bad when she had the school wrapped around her finger, they will be mortified when they see Paris. She would have all their friends and family captured, their best friends leading the cruel treatment of the rest. This would have them in tears and begging for mercy.

She did once consider letting Adrien be her boyfriend, with some perfume to sway him. He would have been a perfect boytoy to taunt Marinette with, but Masquerade realized how far above him she was now. She didn’t need him anymore, and truthfully, he was just as bad as Marinette, if not worse. Marinette had the audacity to dislike her and challenge her, but Adrien, he was so condescending, acting like she should be better than her actions. She could swear she saw pity in his eyes, and that was so much worse.

Though she wasn’t completely heartless, if they begged to be her personal servants and apologized for standing against her, then maybe she would let them have some mercy. Having Marinette clean up after her and make those admittedly delicious baked goods would be nice and having Adrien wait on her hand and foot like a personal butler would be quite fun. Maybe they would think if they did a good enough job their families would suffer less.

She did want to daydream about that idea more but she knew that she needed to focus on the present.

“Alright, Let’s start moving to stage 2. Gamer! I want a comprehensive list of every akuma victim outside of the school. Robostus! Make sure the cameras and broadcast are ready when I tell you. I want everything to go off without a hitch.”

“Affirmative!” Gamer and Robostus responded in equal robotic unison.

“Reflekta! Princess Fragrance! After all of the copies pick up the stragglers, I want you scanning the area for Ladybug and Chat noir. Bubbler and Lady Wifi… wait. I think I remember something.”

She paused to check her charm, she noticed the question mark charm and touched it, allowing her to focus and see what akuma it was.

“Cancel that order, remain on standby unless we get approached.”

“Yes… so this is what that voice meant by merging. How very interesting. I think I will let that new akuma keep its directive. Ladybug and Chat noir will have no chance of beating...”

An akuma merged with Lady Wifi, Bubbler and Oblivio. Combined to make something new. Something that she knew even the heroes would have trouble fighting.

“Deadzone.” Masquerade said with a devilish grin.

______________________________________________________________________________

Ladybug and Chat Noir made their way down the hall. They easily dealt with a few Reflekta clones without much effort and continued moving.

They were expecting to see more akuma lurking about, but strangely, the halls they were walking down were all either empty or only covered by Reflekta duplicates.

“Masquerade likely has her stronger forces consolidating after bringing in as many people to her as they could. Those that didn’t hit the mark likely got turned into the copies we bumped into.” Ladybug answered.

“That does explain why they were singing, like when Princess Fragrance made servants,” the cat hero added.

“This might be our only time to catch a break before confronting her.”

“So, since we have time, do you mind if I ask if you're free to go on Patrol tonight?” the cat hero casually inquired.

Ladybug stopped.

“Tonight? That is quite sudden. Plus, we still don’t know how this will play out.” Ladybug gestured to the school.

“Well I am going to assume we stop the akuma and save the day like always.” Chat noir commented. “Call it a safe bet, but we usually win.”

“Always the positive outlook, Chaton. I’m glad you have so much faith in us despite our numbers disadvantage.”

“You said it yourself, most of the servants are pushovers or just puppets. The only real threat is Lila. And we have faced worse."

“True, but not anything this sinister,” Ladybug tacked on.

“Didn’t we fight Hawkmoth a couple of months back?” Chat noir asked with a twinge of confusion. Was Ladybug implying what he thought she was?

Ladybug held her tongue.

“You’re kidding right? You think Lila is eviler than Hawkmoth!” Chat Noir exclaimed in shock.

“No no no! Not eviler … just a bit cleverer than him,” Ladybug confessed.

Chat noir looked at his partner skeptically, but then considered her words.

“She is manipulative. Considering even without being akumatized she has done some rather twisted stuff. But thinking she is evil is a bit much. Especially when there is someone responsible for forcing emotionally vulnerable people to do his bidding,” Chat noir pointed out.

“Isn’t that what she is doing right now?”

“Yes, but she was akumatized. If we started blaming people for their actions as akuma we would have to throw innocent people in jail.”

“Right… but you read that article on the Ladyblog right? She could be more than just a victim of Hawkmoth, she could be an ally.”

The Cat hero thought about it more but was still not entirely convinced.

“I guess underestimating her would be dumb, but maybe she isn’t completely evil. I mean Chloé ended up showing a bit of humanity and did some good, maybe Lila is capable of it too.”

The crimson clad heroine smiled a bit.

“That’s what I like about you, Chat, you always focus on the good in others.”

The black clad hero gave a Cheshire grin.

“When it comes to the team, you’re the brains, and I’m the sidekick who brings the smiles and the heartfelt speeches.”

“You aren’t my sidekick, Chat Noir, we are partners. And you could be the brains too, if you would use yours outside of pun making.” Ladybug playfully bonked his noggin.

The cat chuckled at the playful teasing.

“Fair enough, but I can’t help it if I FELINE making a quip.”

Ladybug could feel herself groan at the lame joke.

“I take it back… you are the sidekick,” Ladybug deadpanned, her tone of mock annoyance causing the cat to chuckle.

“Alright I’ll…” He stopped speaking as he noticed something was amiss.

Chat Noir’s left ear twitched. He heard approaching footsteps.

“We better get moving, this abandoned hallway isn’t going to be so abandoned in a minute.”

“More Reflekta clones?”

Chat Noir extended the staff to the ground, his face showing a sudden sternness.

“No… Winter is coming.”

______________________________________________________________________________

Viperion peered through the door of the locker room.

“Clear.”

The snake and dragon heroes entered with their akuma prisoner.

“Pick a locker and let’s toss her in,” Ryuuko commented as she held the squirming akuma.

The two paused their movement when they heard a rustling in the lockers.

“Do you hear that?” Viperion questioned.

“How could I not?” Ryuuko replied.

Just as the two stared at the rustling lockers. The two shaking lockers doors flew off their hinges.

And stepped out an akuma that neither hero recognized.

“I don’t remember seeing that akuma before,” Ryuuko stated.

“Neither do I, but it seems vaguely familiar,”  Viperion responded.

As the Akuma was gathering its bearings, the heroes tried to gauge its powers. It had broad shoulders that had spherical, dark purple balls around them, which were connected to tight black sleeves with 3 white circular stripes at the end that ended at his wrists. Its left hand had a fingerless black glove which showed its skin akin to a purple silhouette. The other hand was what appeared to be a black laser canon with a phone attached to it. On its back was a large red, purple and black pipe which seemed to act as a holster to a blue bubble wand.  Its face was obscured by a large white theater mask much like all the other akuma. But there was the impression that it had distinct features. Its chest had a rounded purple bubble on the top half of its body akin to round armor and it had a logo that appeared to be a WiFi signal within an eye in a cage. The lower half appeared more akin to a skintight jumpsuit that was black with white stripes at the feet.

The akuma turned its attention to the two heroes.

“So umm… what are you doing in the locker room?”

“Merge complete, Deadzone is active. Mission objective, Capture Ladybug and Chat Noir,” The akuma answered in a robotic tone less as a response to the question and more as a statement, their voice sounded like the mix of two people.

“Well, Deadzone, we can’t let you do that!”  Ryuuko exclaimed as she glared at the akuma.

The akuma pointed its blaster at her.

“Your opinion on that really doesn’t have an impact on us.”

Deadzone’s left hand touched the phone on their blaster, and a purple bubble with a pause insignia shot out. Ryuuko and Viperion both jumped back as the bubble had direct contact with their akuma prisoner, causing her to be motionless as the bubble turned green and floated to the roof of the room.

“Okay, so don’t touch the bubbles,” Viperion noted.

“Positive side, we don’t need to worry about that one akuma,” Ryuuko commented.

Viperion and Ryuuko knew this akuma would be trouble if it got to Ladybug and Chat noir. They were going to need to find a way to stop it.

______________________________________________________________________

Fu had been observing the spoiled Mayor’s daughter after her confrontation with the Reflekta replicas. Using it as a means to help him find Ladybug and Chat Noir. He was aware that this girl had a knack for getting into trouble and making akuma target her, so it would not be too far off to assume she would be useful in locating his chosen. He would have called her, but communication was down, so he would need to adapt. But now he had a rather interesting quandary.

“Should I lend her the miraculous or not?” Fu spoke quietly as he pondered.

It was a tougher question he had initially thought. If he was asked if she was worthy of being a miraculous user, the answer would undoubtedly be negative. She was clearly a spoiled brat who saw herself above others. But after the events when the bee miraculous temporarily fell into her hands, he had started observing her. He did this with all of the chosen ones that Marinette had picked. Not because he didn’t trust his student, but more out of curiosity of why Marinette picked these individuals.

With the one she picked for the fox miraculous, Fu could see that the girl valued justice, but was cunning and saw the importance of distinguishing truth from illusion, an ideal pick for the fox miraculous. As for the Turtle miraculous wielder, Wayzz spoke highly of Nino, which really made him curious about the young lad. That boy showed a willingness to protect those close to him even if it meant getting hurt, and the calm to be ready to wait and roll with things. The miraculous of protection required someone that can keep a cool head and be ready to defend at the drop of a hat.

The other temporary heroes matched pretty well with the traits of the Kwami and were all good people deep down. Fu had no doubts that Marinette had the instincts of a guardian. The only one that brought doubt was Chloé. After the incident where she found the miraculous and got akumatized, Chloé was trusted with the bee miraculous 3 times. And her record had been mixed but overall she was decent when she fell in line and worked with Ladybug and Chat Noir.

Marinette mentioned that she didn’t want to trust Chloé with the miraculous after the last time. But has admitted to Fu that if needed she was a decent Bee heroine.

But if he was wrong and she decided to use this chance to stay being a miraculous wielder, he would have to deal with her as a rogue. Though, considering the circumstances, that would honestly not be the worst situation, as her identity was public and Ladybug and Chat Noir would deal with her like before.

“Wayzz, what do you think?”

His kwami companion popped out of his shirt pocket.

“This is quite a dilemma, Master. The situation is dire, but putting the miraculous in the wrong hands would also make things worse. Perhaps Pollen would be able to give better insight.”

“Very true, my friend.” Fu patted the kwami.

Fu cautiously went into the cleaning cart and pulled out the Bee Miraculous. The bee kwami popped out.

“Good morning, Master,” Pollen greeted the guardian with respect.

“Good afternoon, Pollen. We have a situation and I would like to know your opinion.”

“Very well, I am happy to serve,” The bee kwami replied.

“What do you think of Chloé Bourgeois? The one that used your miraculous recently.”

The kwami put her little hand to her face as she compiled her thoughts.

“She is complicated, Master. She didn’t talk to me much but I kind of got to feel a lot about who she was as a person. She is brash, she is confident, yet she is insecure. She is blunt, stubborn, and set in her ways. But I can tell that she is at a crossroads in her life. There is some small part of her that wants to be good and do good for others outside of herself, but her upbringing has made such a mindset seem like weakness, and she is scared of letting herself be vulnerable. Ladybug has been a good influence on her, but she is still immature in several aspects. She has the potential to be a good queen. If she could break through that self-imposed selfish mentality, she could be something extraordinary,” Pollen explained, finally.

“I see, well that is quite informative. Thank you,” Fu responded, nodding thoughtfully.

He put the Bee Miraculous back in a tiny box, causing her to go dormant.

“So, she is at a crossroad.”  Fu repeated as he stroked his chin

He turned his attention back to Chloé, who had continued walking towards another dead end. When he caught the eye of approaching Reflekta clones. And with that, Fu figured out a way to know.

“I think I just found a way to know the correct answer.”

______________________________________________________________________

“I swear this place is a maze.” Mayura grumbled to herself as she walked the halls.

She noticed her fan shake, notifying her of someone calling. It was Hawkmoth

“Yes?”

“Mayura what are you doing?! You were supposed to find the target and get out!” Hawkmoth exclaimed angrily. “And why did you transform? You knowutilizing the Peacock Miraculous is dangerous.”

Though she wouldn’t admit it, she was somewhat touched by the concern in his voice. Unfortunately, she did not have time to dwell on that so she was going to ignore it, as she had a task at hand

“Some unforeseen circumstances have caused some rather unfortunate delays. I am going to locate the sentimonster and gather information regarding the target. Afterwards, I will assist in getting Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculous.” Mayura responded.

As she was speaking, an akuma with black wings flew into view along with an akuma riding a paper airplane.

“Seems the akuma servants have located me.”

She notices the akuma began preparing to attack her. They were practically mindless puppets that saw anyone who wasn’t their master as an enemy. This was quite an oversight, but it fit with the motif of the akuma villain. She felt the emotions of that girl, she knew exactly the type of insecurities Lila held. Thankfully for her, it meant they could easily be exploited.

“Get out of there this instant it is too dangerous. You are in no shape to…”

The akumas aimed at the unidentified villainess and fired off paper airplanes and arrows.

“We will discuss this later.” Mayura hung up before turning her attention to the two servants of Masquerade.

Mayura dashed through the hall, expertly avoiding projectiles and blocking with her fan those she couldn’t dodge. She jumped onto Reverser’s glider, grabbed the akuma and threw him at the flying Dark Cupid, leaving the two dazed and tangled together.

“I’m weakened, not helpless,” Mayura commented as she dusted herself off and hopped off the floating paper airplane.

She noticed that the two akuma that attacked her were slow in getting up.

‘Seems the akuma created by Masquerade aren’t just mindless, they are also rather slow in reacting. Ladybug and Chat Noir can exploit that. I suppose with the number of servants she made, this was to be expected. I should locate Simularé and get some details on our akuma’s little plan. I should step in and seize control if she gets too distracted like the last one. Gabriel has always been far too cautious when it comes to his plans, it’s time we were more active.’ Mayura mentally concluded.

She closed her eyes and focused on locating the sentimonster.

“She is on the roof. Odd placement for her most powerful ally, but I suppose there must be some sort of logical reason for what she is planning,” Mayura rationalized.

The peacock themed villainess noticed that the akuma that attacked her were starting to move again, and she decided to pick up her pace a bit.

______________________________________________________________________________

“This is super ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!” she exclaimed with anger. “Not a single exit in this place! Why is every exit coated in icky slime?”

She checked her phone.

“And still no signal.”

She ended up chucking her phone out of frustration.

“I wish Ladybug would just get here and beat the akuma, or better yet, come here and give me the bee miraculous so I can help kick butt,” she grumbled as she went to go see where she threw her phone. She'd remembered she actually liked the case she just bought for it and losing that would be a waste.

“H-help me please!” The wails of a person in danger caught Chloé’s attention.

“That sounds like a non-me issue,” the blonde told herself. As she continued walking to her phone.

“If only there was someone here to save me!” the voice called out again.

Chloé stopped moving for a moment.

“Well I am not a hero without the Bee, so I guess he better hope Ladybug and Chat Noir are nearby, or maybe those other two costumed nobodies that I saw earlier,” she said, clearly trying to convince herself not to do anything.

“Please! Ladybug! Chat Noir…. “

"The heroes will handle it." Chloé reasoned with herself as she picked up her phone. Now getting ready to go somewhere else and likely away from the screaming.

“ And a…Queen Bee.”

Chloé’s eyes went wide. Did someone call out for… Queen Bee?!

Chloé started dashing down the halls to the sound of the voice.

“Did someone call for a hero!” Chloé called out, looking confident.

She arrived to see an old man in an ugly Hawaiian shirt being cornered by 3 Reflekta copies. The akuma copies turn to Chloé.

“Surrender,” they sing-songed as they began to approach.

Chloé ran right at them, and proceeded to push them into each other, and let the impractical heels make it hard for them to get back up.

She rushed to the old man.

“Don’t worry, old man with good taste in heroes and nothing else. I, Queen Bee, am here to save you,” Chloé blustered.

“Thank you.” Fu said with a forced smile. She clearly only came when he mentioned her name. But she did show up. In hindsight, maybe his test was not as conclusive as he thought. But then again, he actually planned those out more.

Chloé looked around.

“Alright old man, normally I would have just left you to get saved by Ladybug, but you have good taste in heroes, so I am going to help you out. We need to move before those creepy akumas get back up. So follow me, I know a place you can hide out.” Her tone tried to come off as abrasive, but it did show an inkling of care.

Chloé began moving away from the cluster of Reflektas. The old man shrugged and followed behind. He supposed that this would be another good test for her. Maybe he will get a more definitive answer by keeping an eye on her. And if worse comes to worse, he had a feeling she would make a good distraction should he need to escape a band of akuma.

______________________________________________________________________

“Did you just make a...”

Ladybug was able to pick up on the sound of harsh wind heading their way and decided her scolding of lame references could wait for later. She grabbed her partner's arm and pulled him into the nearby science lab.

She quickly closed the door just as a cold front blasted right past them. The window on the door was covered in ice.

“Stormy Weather?”

“Stormy Weather.”

The two both look at each other with a bit of worry. The storm akuma was one of their more powerful foes, and with complete control of the weather in such a tight space, things were going to get tough.

“Any ideas?”

Ladybug weighed her options. Would now be the time to use her lucky charm? or should she save it for when they are in front of Masquerade? It was starting to get harder to make that call.

“We can’t have her roaming the halls, we will need to incapacitate her. So I say have your ice power up ready, and be ready to swap power ups at the drop of a hat. Stormy Weather may be tough, but we still have tricks up our sleeve.”

Chat Noir nodded.

“Sounds like a plan.”

Ladybug and Chat Noir both popped their Ice blue power ups and shift into their Ice forms. The two watched as the other’s suit gained ice skates, ice crystal and snowflake accents, becoming Ladyice and Icecat.

(AN: Yes, according to the Wiki, that’s what they are calling them. Personally, I would have called them Ladyfrost and Cold noir/ Cool Cat but that’s just me. This isn’t relevant to the story, I just wanted you all to know that.)

“You know, Ladybug, you really give off the ice skater vibe. Would you say you have experience ice skating outside of this form?” Chat Noir asked.

Ladybug felt her mind flash to her date with Adrien and her cheeks turned red.

“I- I may have some experience. And how about you, Kitty?” she deflected.

“Well, now that you mention it, I…”

They heard a loud bang on the door, cracking the ice that covered the window to reveal the white theater mask that Stormy Weather had covering her face.

“I’m gonna give it to her, she really knows how to break the Ice,” Chat Noir joked.

“Chaton, cool it with all of the ice puns,” she stated.

“Wait, was that a pun? My Lady I... OH SHI…”

A large ice stalactite burst through the door interrupting their banter and almost skewering them.

Chat Noir was about to say something when Ladybug cut in.

“Chat Noir, you are my partner and I respect you greatly. But so help me, if you say we should put this conversation on ‘Freeze’, I will not save you if you get impaled.” Ladybug stated.

Chat Noir paused.

“You know me so well,” he said with a smile.

The two watched as Stormy Weather entered the room through the stalactite hole.

______________________________________________________________________

“Hey Viperion?”

“Yea Ryuuko?”

“We both agree that we need to stop that crazy akuma right?”

“That is correct.”

“Then why are you carrying me away from it!?” Ryuuko exclaimed.

Viperion had picked up the dragon heroine fireman style in order to pull her away from the pursuing akuma.

“Do you want the reasons in alphabetical order?” the snake hero sassed.

“We can take it,” Ryuuko asserted. “We can’t retreat! There is no honor in it!”

“Well considering neither of our weapons can touch them, the concept of honor has flown out the window. Not to mention, I seriously doubt that we can take them on without a plan, and don’t say ‘try to hit them harder’ is a plan. It isn’t.”

Viperion had a smug look as he noticed Ryuuko look away.

“You’re right, but I'm mad about it,” the dragon heroine huffed.

“I can live with that.”

Viperion took a sharp left and noticed a dozen Reflekta duplicates.

“Juleka?”

“Come with us,” the clones sang.

“I’m going to assume they aren’t her,” Ryuuko said as she got off Viperion’s shoulders.

She punched his arm.

“Ow.”

“Your shoulder was bumpy.”

Ryuuko drew her weapon and dashed past the group of Reflekta clones. After a second, she holstered her weapon and all of the clones dropped to the floor groaning.

“Wow.” Viperion was impressed. He had to admit that it was super cool.

“Don’t worry, I used the flat end of the sword. They will be fine, and hopefully they will slow down the akuma.”

The two continued running, but glanced back as Deadzone arrived. He looked at the clones getting up and blasted each one into a green bubble in which they remained motionless and floated to the ceiling of the hall.

“It can’t distinguish between friend or foe,” Viperion commented.

“What?”

Viperion turned to his comrade.

“I think I just got an idea.”

__________________________________________________________________________

“This way,” the bossy blond teen motioned.

Fu pushed his janitor cart as they moved in the hallway.

“Do you really need to move that hideous thing with us?” Chloé questioned with clear aggravation.

“It's very important,” Fu responded.

“Ugh, whatever. Just move faster, then.”

Fu nodded and picked up the pace.

The mayor’s daughter led them down the hall and they had managed to avoid attracting attention.

“Okay, we are here.”

Fu looked at the door and realized that it was the nurse’s office.

“Hopefully the nurse didn’t get herself captured while I was gone.”

Chloé went to open the door and noticed it was locked.

“What the…”

“Let me try.” Fu interjected.

“Fine, just hurry up.”

He pulls out a jingling set of keys. Chloé shrugged as she turned around to keep watch.

Fu let his kwami companion out to open the door. Wayzz quickly undid the lock and opened the door before sliding back out of view.

“All done,” Fu said.

Chloé turned around as Fu opened the door.

The two quickly ran inside and locked the door behind them.

“Nurse Arugula!” Chloé called out. “I have a guest for you!”

“Arugala?”

“It was something with an A.” Chloé commented.

The two waited a few seconds, but there was no response.

They moved deeper into the office.

“Are you here?” Chloé questioned.

They flicked on the light switch to see the nurse in the cot.

“Oh, that’s great, I leave to go get help and be a hero and she goes off napping!” Chloé fumed.

Fu moved to the nurse and noticed she had a bruise on her neck, indicating that she was clearly forced into this state. He jabbed a pressure point and the nurse jolted awake.

“HUAGH!”

She nearly fell out of the cot.

“Glad you can join us from your nap,” Chloé hissed.

“Chloé? Did you call for help?” The nurse inquired as she gathered her bearings.

“No, the school is a total dead zone, and I couldn’t find a way out because they are all blocked by slime. Side note, I found this old guy.”

The nurse turned to the old man.

“Hello. I’m Angela.” She politely introduced herself.

“Nice to meet you. I am… Fung,” Fu lied. He couldn’t be too careful.

“Nice to meet you Fung, despite the circumstances,” she tried to make light of the situation.

“Every meeting can have a positive circumstance if one is looking for it.”

The calm in the air died when Angela realized that someone was missing.

“Oh no! The women you left in my care! She knocked me out and stormed out of here.” Angela exclaimed.

“Welp, she is probably captured,” Chloé shrugged.

“We have to find her, she has some sort of strange illness. Leaving her out there might be dangerous, akuma or not.”

Angela prepared to move to the door but was stopped by Chloé.

“Oh no you don’t! I brought this old man here for safety. You stay here with him.”

“But my patient!”

The woman was clearly shaking, but she was determined, she wanted to help her patient even if it meant going into danger. But much to Fu’s surprise, Chloé stepped up.

“I will bring your patient back. Mostly because being stuck in here seems much worse than dealing with a bunch of dumb akuma.”

Angela hugged Chloé.

“Thank you.”

Chloé tried to look annoyed, but a ghost of a smile appeared on the mayor’s daughter’s face. She accepted the hug for a moment.

Fu took notice. He had made his decision.

“Alright, enough touching! You deal with sick people all day. I don’t want germs,” Chloé stated as she tried to give off her usual air.

“That is very brave of you, young one.” Fu spoke.

“Pff, this is nothing. It’s what heroes do.”

As Chloé began making her way out of the nurse’s office, Fu quietly slipped the tiny miracle box into her bag.

‘I hope this was worth the risk.’

_____________________________________________________________

(END OF CHAPTER)

Well things are really heating up.

Will Ladyice and Icenoir be able to deal with stormy weather? Will Deadzone be the dead end for Ryuuko and Viperion? What is Masquerade's villainous plan? Will I update faster than every 40 or so days?

Let me know your thoughts and if you did enjoy the story.

REBLOG it and comment. Likes are nice but they don't really help content creators like they should.

[pleasantanathema]

Graves into Gardens | Reiner Braun x Reader | Chapter One

Chapter One: Living Ghosts

Pairing: Reiner Braun x Fem!Reader 

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Warnings: Modern AU, spoilers up to season four, slight manga spoilers (only by including characters met later), captivity, mentions of violence, enemies to lovers, angst, and eventual smut (don’t worry, it’ll come sooner than you think).

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Here’s chapter one of my multi-chapter series for Reiner— chapter two is already ready!

A very special thank you to @present-mel​ , and @whats-her-quirk​ for encouraging me to take the plunge and create this monster (I’ve got a lot planned for this fic and I’m so excited for it) 💕

Masterlist | Next Chapter

           You were having that same dream again, the one where you felt like you were dying. Your shoulder ached with the memory of bursting pain, but there were warm hands there, holding you, pressing down to keep the bleeding at bay. You could never recognize the face, never identify the voice, your ears still ringing from the sound of a piercing gunshot. It was always the same; a delirious memory warped into a nightmare. Sometimes the dream ended in the hospital, other times with you staring at the inside of a coffin, or in a shallow grave.

           But this time, you were waking up, eyes flickering open to meet harsh fluorescent lights and clinking, cold handcuffs around your wrists.

          A white-hot sense of dread pooled over your body.

          You knew where you were. You knew how you got here. And suddenly, you wished you were dreaming again.

          You could still see it all, still hear the deafening blades of the helicopter whirring above you. None of your team had expected the Marleyans to be in the warehouse; they hadn’t been on the soil of Paradis in years. They’d caught you off guard and sent your escape plan into action sooner than expected. You’d tried to follow Mikasa and Armin, but Jean was in your way. The lines of your vertical movement gear had tangled with his as you both hurriedly attempted to ascend and meet Levi in the aircraft, sending you spiraling back into the window, back into enemy territory.

          Someone kicked you in the skull when you landed, you could still feel your head throbbing with the soreness. That must’ve been what did you in, what made you easy pickings to become a captive to the Marleyan government.

          You sat up, taking note of your surroundings: of course, they’d put you in a cell, one void of a bed but thankfully containing a fucking bucket. How considerate. Just outside the iron bars was a table scattered with broken pieces of your gear, undoubtedly torn apart to be studied and to keep you from using it to escape.

          Anger brewed inside your chest, a familiar feeling of betrayal returning that you hadn’t felt in years. There were faces here you didn’t want to see, enemies with broken facades that still haunted your thoughts at night. People you’d trusted, people you’d loved.

          You knew they would show themselves soon. If you were still alive, it’s because there were questions that Zeke Yeagar wanted answers to, tendrils of doubt and duplicity that he wanted to sink into your mind.

━━━─── • ───━━━

          Reiner felt sick. He’d never wanted to see you again, yet he’d been the one to carry your unconscious body through the compound, to cuff you and leave you on the frigid concrete floor. He’d stood over your figure for a while, heart pounding his chest out of fear that you’d wake up and flash that scrutinizing gaze of yours toward him again. But you’d just laid there at his feet, small, vulnerable, like a lost memory washed back upon the shores of his life.

          And of course, now that you were awake, you weren’t talking, refusing to take Zeke’s bait.

          He watched the older man pace around the room, glasses glinting as he wrung his hands. Truly, Reiner had been surprised that Zeke didn’t kill you on the spot, instead opting to transport you all the way across the border to their headquarters, insistent that you be treated like precious cargo. Though, it had been hard to keep Porco from poking at your body in the floorboards of the armored truck. Reiner had tried to keep his gaze away from you, eyes glued to the dark horizon outside of the rain smeared window. Maybe if he had stopped looking at you, you would have disappeared.

          There was something pressing Zeke, something worrying him that he wasn’t sharing with the rest of the warriors. He thought you knew something, or perhaps that you could be valuable in some way.

          Reiner knew that if you were to live, you needed to speak, needed to give them a piece of information to work with. He placed his head in his hands at the table, palms rubbing at his eyes. He shouldn’t—he didn’t—care if you took your last breath here. You were the enemy, someone who’d once held a knife to his throat when his true intentions within the ranks of The Scouts were revealed. He almost wished you’d killed him then, that you’d ended all the years of misery and regret that still clung to his mind like a poisonous leech.

          “Maybe she’ll give in to someone she knows,” Zeke stopped his pacing, attention turning to Annie Leonhart who sat across from Reiner, “why don’t you give it a go?”

          “Absolutely not,” she rejected, long legs crossing at the ankles upon the table.

          “Bertholdt tells me that you two were quite the comrades during your reconnaissance mission.”

          “I wouldn’t say that. We just found each other tolerable. Bertie was always sweet on her, though.”

          Zeke sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Bertholdt is kind to everyone, he’s as soft as they come.”

          Bertholdt, per usual, stayed quiet in the face of Zeke’s remarks.

          Porco Galliard chuckled at that statement, straightening his shoulders before he spoke.

          “Which is exactly why you should’ve sent me to Paradis instead, Chief. I could give her a go. You were being too easy on her, anyways. Once you start ripping off fingernails people really start to give in, you know.”

          Reiner’s gut twisted at the thought.

          “You’re not allowed anywhere near her, Gailliard,” Zeke crossed his arms as a smirk settled into the lines of his beard, “she’s far too pretty, you’d break down and grovel to her before it was all over.”

          Galliard huffed, a pink tinge dusting his cheeks as he shrunk down in his seat.

          “Reiner—”

          He had an inkling that it would come down to this. There would be no point in disputing it, he’d have to come face to face with his past, with sins he thought he left behind four years ago.

          He stood before Zeke could complete his thought, heavy knuckles rapping at the wood of the table.

          “Well, looks like we finally have a volunteer.”

           Every inch of Reiner’s skin bristled as he marched down the corridor to the prison cells. His footsteps were jarring, heavy, like he was determined to leave prints in the floor to mark a final walk of shame. Some part of him hoped you’d be gone when he opened the door, that you would have used your wits and crawled through some air duct and run away from this, from him.

          He almost didn’t turn the door handle. He felt invisible, burdensome hands pulling at his shoulders, calling at him to run. He’d always been a coward, especially when it came to you. He hated you, loathed you because he knew you pegged him as fraud from the beginning. You never threw a kind word in his direction, always looked at him like he was below you, like his pride meant nothing to you.

          Reiner just wished that you had meant nothing to him. Even when the opportunity had presented itself, he couldn’t even find the strength to kill you like his orders demanded. He wondered if you remembered it at all, if your memories had finally flooded back after all this time. Something inside his heart wouldn’t let him that night, some unknown, egregious feeling that by some means overshadowed his hatred. 

          That feeling returned when he entered the room and found you sitting with your back to the wall, your tightly bound hands in your lap.

          He took in a deep breath as he averted his gaze, teeth gritting at the sight of you awake. Zeke was right, four years had done you justice; time had only made you more beautiful than before, and he worried he might fall to his knees before you.

          “Reiner.”

          Sometimes, he just really wished people would stop saying his name.

━━━─── • ───━━━

          A strange relief settled into your stomach at the sight of him. Reiner was as hulking as ever, broad shoulders stretching the threads of his shirt to their limits. But he was different, older…demure, in some ways. He didn’t hold his head as high anymore, didn’t immediately cross his arms across his barreled chest to appear larger. He took tired, golden eyes less intense than you last remembered. His fingers rubbed at his lips, at the facial hair that adorned more pronounced cheekbones.

          You hated to admit that he appeared even more handsome than you remembered.

           There was a red armband tied around his bicep, an insignia emblazoned on it that you’d never seen before.

          “Do I make you nervous, Braun?”

          You caught his attention then, made his eyes look at you as you leaned your head back against the stone wall.

          “Tough question from the one behind bars.”

          His voice had changed, too. He sounded more stoic, more serious. There used to be a hint of glee under that tongue of his.

          “Why am I here?”

          “I’m supposed to be the one asking you things.”

          You shrugged, biting at your cheek as you wiggled your toes to try to make them feel again. Your limbs were starting to ache, your head too, body feeling like it was starting to cement to the floor. You didn’t want to be Zeke Yeagar’s plaything, but you knew that if you were alive, there was something they wanted. There was some leverage you held, but you weren’t sure what it was just yet. You had hoped they would send Bertholdt in to talk to you, you always could get under his skin.

          Reiner was a more difficult case for you. He always coated himself in arrogance, made it harder for you to chip away at his armor. He never let anyone in, just always grinned, acted like he had everything under control. But before you was a man with cracks, a man that time and guilt had eroded. You almost felt sorry for him, almost. A man like him deserved to bear the weight of his burdens.

          “Listen, if you don’t start talking—”

          “You’ll what? Kill me?”

          “We’ll torture you.”

          He said the words with a weight that knocked you back a bit, stole the last breath of gusto you were holding onto. You expected as much, but hearing it said aloud made fear crawl up your spine, made the cuffs around your wrist feel even more strained against your skin.

          “What do you want to know? I could tell Yeagar was prodding for something tangible to use against Paradis.”

          “I just want to know what you know about us, if you know anything about what Marley has been doing in the last few years.”

          “You’ve been fighting a war, that much I know.”

          And he looked like he had been through battle, been through hell in trenches and gunfire. Your intelligence agents had reported that Braun had been promoted to be Vice Commander of the Warrior Unit, and the hardline of his frown told you he’d seen more horrors than you wanted to know about.

          “Tell me something you don’t know from news headlines.”

          Levi had trained all his scouts for this situation once upon a time ago. You could still hear his voice in your head, commanding you to give up as little as possible, learn what the enemy wanted and then give them something else to cling on to. You had a few things you knew you could feed to them, beneficial tidbits that would satiate their hunger and keep them from feasting upon your teammates. But relaying any kind of information was a death sentence within itself; give the dogs a treat and eventually they’ll want more.

          And you knew that Reiner, that Zeke Yeagar, was a very greedy host.

          You stood slowly, releasing the aching tension in your lower back. Reiner didn’t flinch away from his place beyond the rusting iron, instead eyeing you like you were some exotic thing in a cage.

          There was a nostalgia of being in his presence, even if the atmosphere around him was contrary to what you were used to perceiving. He still made your blood boil, still made your fighting instincts come alive in the back of your mind. You still felt small in his shadow, but there was still a lingering feeling, a fleeting memory, about how being around him once made you feel safe.

          Your bare feet moved toward him, toes stinging against the cold of the floor.

          One of your hands wrapped around a bar to your prison, the metal of your handcuffs clinking against the barrier.

          You could catch his scent from being this close, and at least that much stayed the same—he always smelled like cedarwood, earthy and sweet, like the spice of the forest floor after a fresh rain. It was almost funny how smell created memories more frequently than any other sense. 

          Suddenly, you felt like you were back home, like nothing had changed, as if his deceit had never been revealed. Your mind’s eye flashed images of your old training camp, of Reiner lifting Connie onto his shoulders after the small boy had successfully managed to triumph over Jean in his marksmanship practice. He’d used one of the tricks that Reiner had taught him. That once sweet memory turned sour as you remembered just why Reiner was always such a good shot.

          You tilted your chin up to look at him, to come face-to-face with the imposing penumbra you thought you’d warded off. He was a living ghost brought back to haunt you once again.

          “You seem pathetic, Braun, like you’ve lost all that bravado that made you so special.”

          He took your words, let them bounce off his chest like you hadn’t even spoken them.

          “Why did they send you in here? Did they really expect I’d crack under such pitiful pressure? You’re a deplorable, miserable—”

          His fist wrapped around your hand, crushing your fingers between his might and the metal bar you’d secured yourself to.

          You hissed at the pain, but…there was something you had missed in that touch of his; he felt warm, worn, like there were secrets being pressed into your skin.

          “Be. Quiet.”

          You expected his fingers to flex, waited for him to crack your fingers under his pressure. But he kept his strength at bay, electing to keep a steady, continuous tension against your knuckles.

          “Talk, or tomorrow will be your last day. You wouldn’t want to die at the hands of a pathetic, wretched man like me, would you? No, you’re too proud for that.”

          He took a step back, releasing his bruising grip before turning on his heels to leave.

          A string of panic began to uncoil inside you, snapping as his arm extended towards the exit.

           “Reiner,” you called, “tell me something. How much do you really know about Zeke Yeagar?”

           “I know enough.”

           “No, you don’t,” you were starting to sound worried, you could hear it, “there’s something I know that you don’t, and I’d be willing to give you information in return for you answering a question for me.”

           You could feel your heart beating in your chest, every pump within your ribs like the ticking of an oppressive clock. He was silent, steady, back still turned away from you. You noticed that his fists were clenched by his side, a vein starting to appear up the exposed length of his forearm.

           “I’ll consider it. Depends on what your question is.”

           He still didn’t turn to look at you.

           “Reiner…tell me what happened to Marco.”

           The door was slamming shut before the last syllable of the dead man’s name left your lips.

Next Chapter

[angelanimedesaray]

A Demon’s Promise Part 11:  Lights and Edges

AN:  There’s a bit of time jumping in this, across the span of a few months, cause this was going to get bogged down and drawn out if I was trying to write all this in detail, cause it was just a lot of general stuff, really slow plot, it wouldn’t have worked well.  So we’re jumping across the span of 7 ish months, and the next chapter is going to be around the 9 month point.

Characters:  Incubus!Levi, Reader, Ida, Asa, Isabel, Captain (You’ll see), Various BG Characters

Pairings:  (Eventual) Levi x Reader

Warnings:  Language, Blood, Gore, Violence, Death, Brutal Death, Major Injury, some Angst, Mentions of Sexual Acts, Heavily Implied Sexual Acts.  But also Domestic Fluff and Dad!Levi :D

Word Count:  12674

<----Previous Part    Masterlist    Next Part---->

(Four Months Later)

*Reader’s POV*

You could have started small.  There were a thousand ways you could start trying to make things work with Levi.  But the first thing you did was try to force yourself not to hold the children hostage from him.  They were his children, too, and from what you could see, he loved them.  It wasn’t fair to him--cruel, even--that you kept the twins just out of his reach or sight more often than not, or you’d leave the room with them before he could even ask to hold them.

You needed to let him try to be a father.

You still didn't want him in your space, so if he asked to come in to do something, it was an automatic no.  You still needed boundaries, and that was your safe space, and he was going to stay out of it.

But when you left your room, you stayed conscious of natural excuses to let him hold the twins.  Maybe one of them needed changed.  You would ask him to feed one while you fed the other.  He seemed to be strangely pleased if he was asked to give them baths, which at first was just a gentle sponge bath in a special seat.  If your arms got tired or the wrap started to sit uncomfortably, you would pass them off to him to hold for a while.

Once he realized you were giving him opportunities to hold the twins, Levi stopped any and all pushing to be allowed around them, because you were giving him that time.  The most he ever did was offer help if you were struggling and hadn't yet thought to ask him for help.  Most of the time, you felt you had things pretty well handled.  But sometimes you were at the end of your rope and unable to figure out what it was that the twins wanted.  It was in those moments Levi tended to approach, stoically asking if he could try figuring out what they wanted.  Most of the time, they tended to calm down after a few minutes with him.

Which began to convince you that the twins just wanted time with their father.  And you weren't going to deny your twins that if it was what they wanted, as well.

So, gradually, over the first few months, you relaxed your grip, let Levi be with his children, let him wander the house with them, out of your sight.  He would take them both when you sat down to eat so you could have a peaceful dinner, or he would just take them for an hour or so just to be with them, usually reappearing when they were hungry or tired.  If they were tired and were going to do more than nap, he would bring them back to you so you could put them in their cribs in your room.  The cribs in his bedroom were still, at this point, unused.

By now, though, you were starting to trust him with the twins.  You'd seen him change around them, seen a bit of that indifferent exterior crack to reveal a surprisingly soft individual underneath.  You'd seen how gently and carefully he gave them their baths, how patiently he endured it if they were trying to gum his fingers, hair, or clothes--and how he discreetly washed his hands or changed his clothes afterwards, or how quick he was to keep dangerous objects out of their mouths 

Just because you saw how he was with the twins didn't mean everything between the two of you was magically fixed, though.  There was still tension between the two of you, though you were trying not to treat him like he was liable to go on a rampage and hurt you or the twins anymore.

Frankly, you were trying to pin down where that feeling came from in the first place.  Levi was a lot of things, but he'd never raised a hand to you, the twins--you'd never seen him physically threaten anyone.  You didn't want to admit it, but this concept that he was out to hurt you seemed to develop around the time you found out he was a demon.  Which meant it was probably entirely rooted in the fact he was a demon, which made you one hell of a hypocrite since your children were half-demon and would one day be full-demon, yet you held nothing against them and didn't fear any possible innate malice in them.

The duplicity made you hope maybe it was just rooted in how Levi had hurt you in the past in non-physical ways, and a fear with the reveal he was a demon and all those harsh words and suggestions that he didn't give a damn about you meant he might one day escalate to physical violence.

But again, he didn't show any signs.  It was just the fear you harbored in your mind, and he knew the fear was there.  He didn't complain, though.  He seemed to quietly accept and endure it.  He didn't react when you wouldn't let him touch you, or you flinched away if the two of you accidentally came into contact.  He never forced his presence upon you, and for the most part, made himself scarce and let you have your space.  But as much as that made you feel relieved, allowed some of the tension to drain out of your body...it also made you feel alone, in this giant strange house that wasn't yours.

That, oddly enough, was the next thing that you started to work on.  And it was from the stupidest whim, too, that you started to warm up to the house and finally, finally accept Levi’s statement that the house was yours to do with as you wished. 

The floor could be cold on your bare feet when you walked around the house, wood or stone, and one day when you found yourself reluctant to get off the couch because you were warm curled up with your feet on the cushions but the floor below was freezing in comparison, you'd wondered if any of those catalogs Levi kept updated in the bookshelf had rugs in them.

You went through the pile--new catalogs having replaced the ones that had been there when he'd initially showed them to you--and picked out the ones that looked like they might have some nice rugs in them.  You ignored the prices, just to test how far this offer actually went, and simply sought out one you liked best, marking the page and circling the item like Levi had told you to, placing the catalog in the other basket tentatively and then scurrying away.

The next day, you'd realized the catalog was back in the stack.  Not too much longer and the ordered rug was delivered, and after the basic questions had been asked by Levi, it was rolled out and covering the floor in front of and at the base of the sectional couch in the living room.

No complaints, no questioning if that was what you wanted, nor even any passing comments suggesting it didn't match the rest of the room.  Levi bought it and placed it for you without hesitation and the only question being where you wanted it and how it was supposed to lay.

Now that you knew he was actually going to follow through, you picked up a bit more confidence and went to the bookshelf a bit more frequently.  Browsing the catalogs became a pastime, at least for a little while, as you slowly redecorated the downstairs half of the house into something more to your taste.  At first it was just little things--curtains, rugs, a bigger coat and shoe rack by the door, a few plants, little things like that.  After that, you got things like baby clothes--the twins were growing, and from the advice you’d managed to scrounge up, you knew that they would burn through clothes like gasoline in a poor mileage vehicle.  Toys made an appearance, and soon decorations and little knick-knacks that caught your eye that you really didn’t need, it was more of a want.  He didn’t complain about those, but you /swore/ you felt a /look/ on occasion when the two of you happened to be in the living room at the same time when he came by to check the catalogs.  You were even considering trying to liven up the outside of the house as well--the ivy that had grown over the stone could be pretty if the yard was decorated a bit more--that way it would look decorative instead of abandoned.

Of course, you weren’t the best with plants, but it would give you something to do besides take care of the kids and lounge around all day.

That one thing ended up being the topic Levi pushed you on.  Not giving the twins to him to take care of every now and then, not making the place your own, it was getting out of the house that not even his blatant ‘hints’ could put a stop to.  You hadn’t found a part time job, and you’d only browsed a few things you could be doing on whims, never committing to anything, and if something really caught your eye, you ended up finding a way to do that at home.

It wasn’t healthy.  You were probably going to go stir crazy if you didn’t have something to get out of the house soon, but you were afraid to leave.  Maybe you trusted Levi to handle the twins when you were around, but there was something so much more real about leaving them in his care when you left the house.  Any time you thought about leaving with him to take care of them, something in you seized up with panic, and you quickly backed out.

Until, apparently, Levi had enough.

Four months old--he waited until the twins were four months old to give you the chance to get your life back in gear before he took matters into his own hands.

Levi making breakfast had become habit by now, and he was catching on to the things you liked and what you left untouched if he made it.  He still put variety into breakfast, but it was more personalized to your tastes now.  In fact, you had the sneaking suspicion he actually enjoyed this, enjoyed practicing his cooking skills and getting the chance to make at least the first meal of the day, even if he didn’t eat and the twins were still only drinking pumped breast milk.

He waited until you were halfway through your meal before he ambushed you, dropping what at first glance appeared to be a business card and a credit card on the counter beside you.

Holy shit, that was a fabled black card.

You stared at the credit card like it might bite you, brain crashing as you tried to figure out why he would throw something like /that/ at you.  How loaded was he?  Who did he have to kill to have that kind of money?

“Never seen a credit card before?” Levi asked flatly.  You were starting to understand that was just the way he talked, and he didn’t mean anything by his brisk way of speaking--it was just the way he was.  If he was trying to intentionally make a jab at you or piss you off, you would know.

“Not a shiny black one, no.”

Levi gave a soft, irritated sigh and pushed the card out of the way with his fingers, bringing the business card back into focus.  As opposed to the sleek black card, this was simple cream cardstock, with curly, almost cursive letters spelling out what was clearly a business name.  You picked up the card, arching an eyebrow at the name printed across the surface and staring at Levi.

“Rose’s Touch Spa?”

What was that supposed to mean to you?

“Turn it over,” he said with an exasperated sigh that you couldn’t even figure out what it was on your own.  You did, in fact, turn it over, and on the other side was a simple list of appointment information filled out by hand.  The date was written in light pink for today, in about two hours, a Platinum package for one already paid for.

Slightly alarmed, you looked up at him.  “Uh, what is--”

“It’s been four months,” Levi said, cutting you off before you could question or decline, his voice firm and leaving no room for argument.  “You haven’t left since you got here, not even for a jog.  That package is a full treatment, right down to all the amenities.  Take the day.  Relax.  Do whatever else you want, as long as it’s not here.”

“But the twins--”

“Will be fine here with me for one day until you get back.  You're not getting out on your own, so I took some initiative.  It’s not up for debate, you’re going,” Levi said flatly.

“You know I hate it when you make decisions for me,” you said hotly, but Levi didn’t rise to the bait, calmly pouring himself some more tea--the two of you were having breakfast alone while the twins slept after their morning meal, grabbing a rare quiet moment, so it was just the two of you in the room having this conversation.

“I left it to you for four months.  You didn’t do shit.  It’s not healthy, and I’m stepping in,” Levi said bluntly.  You chewed nervously on your bottom lip, mind suddenly buzzing with all kinds of things that could go wrong while you were gone, and that persistent, underlying, general sense of fear that wouldn’t leave you alone when Levi was involved.  “If you’re that worried, you have a phone for a reason,” Levi added at your nervous disposition.  However, he didn’t seem to be anywhere near changing his mind on the subject.  In fact, he was starting to clean up as if everything was already finished.

“They’ll treat you as a VIP, so you won’t have to wait very long once you get there.  You can probably leave thirty minutes before and get there with plenty of time,” he said casually, water running as he started scrubbing at the dishes.

You were quiet for several long moments, the only sound Levi cleaning up what remained of the morning breakfast mess.  “I don’t want to leave the twins,” you eventually said in a soft, barely audible voice.  Levi paused, appearing to consider your words for several long minutes.

“Your life didn’t stop because you had the babies.  If it has, it's of your own doing.  Nothing’s stopping you.  Nothing will happen to them while you’re gone.  They'll still be here when you come back.  I promise."

He didn't look at you while he said it, but there was a sincerity in his words that made you believe you could at least attempt it today.  It would do you some good to get out of the house, and to get a full package at a spa, and then do whatever you wanted with no limit to your spending…

It didn't look like much when it was just two cards on the counter, but he was really pushing to give you a day to yourself, a bit of freedom and fresh air.  Maybe you wanted to see ulterior motives in it and that was what made you scared, but you really needed to stop doing just that.  If you kept looking for problems everywhere, you'd find them, usually of your own making.  And one of his biggest complaints had been you twisting his words.

You were going to give him this chance, and if nothing bad happened...maybe you could stand to trust him a little more.

"Fine…" you murmured softly, taking both cards and tucking them away for later.  "You're not going to be busy today?"

"I don't have to be anywhere until Saturday."

Right.  One upside of being around all the time was that you were becoming quite familiar with Levi’s schedule.  He always went out on Saturday nights like clockwork, and always came back wanting to see the twins.  Every now and then, he didn't walk through the door like a normal person--he'd come from upstairs like he'd been home the whole time, which left you wondering how he got inside in the first place.  Another demon thing, maybe.  Usually when that happened, he was a little worse for wear and kept more covered up than usual, which only made you more suspicious about what was happening when he went out on Saturdays.

Then, of course, there were those hours he spent locked in the tower doing God knew what.  You hadn't snooped around to try and find out, and you'd told yourself you didn't want to know, but with how frequent it was, you were starting to wonder.

Thanks to the twins and their knack for waking you up at odd hours with their crying--and if one started, the other was grunted to join in--you'd also found out Levi didn't seem to sleep much, as you could hear him moving around the house at all hours of the night.  And in the early mornings, when the sun was just starting to rise, he tended to go out for a jog.  And Tuesdays were his cleaning day where he made sure the whole damn house was spotless.

So, you'd asked if it was all right with him because you didn't know if he planned on locking himself in the library again, today.

Well, apparently not, since he'd scheduled this appointment with the intent to get you out of the house all day.  Which meant you had no excuse.  The twins were going to be with their father today, and you were going to get out of the house for the first time in months.

You hadn't realized how much you actually needed this say to yourself, no strings attached, until you were right in the middle of it.  When Levi had said he got you the full package, he hadn't been kidding.  An hour long massage, manicure, pedicure, haircut however you wanted it, facial, the works.  By the time you left, you almost felt like an entirely new person, and you realized you were suddenly faced with an entire town of things you could do.

Food was first, with you going to your favorite restaurant to get whatever you wanted--except alcohol, since you were driving yourself around.  After that, you went to the nearest mall and browsed, ogling the puppies in one of the shop windows and buying yourself a nice sun dress to go with your new makeover.  Strolling around downtown opened a few doors you hadn't been expecting, as you caught sight of one or two advertised classes or workshops that caught your interest, Levi’s suggestion that you pick up a once a week hobby that got you out of the house regularly flashing through your mind.  You finished up your night with a movie, the sun having set long ago by the time you left, and a longing to get back to the twins now firmly rooted in your chest.

You'd decide if you were going to commit to a weekly class later after some online research and contemplation at home.

It was strange having a home with a driveway and a large stone gate, how you had to park and get our of the car to open the gate before you could drive inside, and having to get out again to close it behind you.  You felt like you were driving up to some ancient, off limits castle instead of somewhere you were living.

I really need to liven this place up, you thought as your gaze flickered across the plain front lawn, driving the car up to where it usually stayed when it wasn't being used and putting it in park.  You gathered your things and, mindful that it was an hour that the twins should be asleep, you quietly entered the house.

It was completely silent inside, which put you on edge as much as it helped relax you a bit not to be greeted with chaos.  But Levi didn't appear to see who entered the house or show you the twins were fine, either.

As you set your bags by the door, you were fighting off fearful thoughts, things like Levi making off with the twins while you were gone.  So as soon as you were free from the things you needed to carry inside, you started searching, going straight up to the bedrooms and peeking your head inside to confirm that the twins weren’t in the cribs in either room.  You went up to the library next to see if the door was locked and Levi was inside, but it was empty.  At that point, you were starting to panic, hurrying downstairs in a rush to check the kitchen to see if Levi was feeding them in there--he wasn’t.  You were basically running when you checked the living room, and promptly came to a full halt at the scene inside.

Two bare feet sticking out from behind the couch caused you to hurry forward enough you could see what was on the other side.  The floor blanket playmat thing you’d bought a while back for the babies was spread out and plush on the floor, on top of the carpet for extra cushion.  Both babies were lying on their backs asleep, one of the baby blankets thrown over them to keep them warm and a few baby toys lying on the ground around them, like a rattle or a few stuffed animals.  Beside them, lying on his side with one arm draped protectively over them, was Levi, asleep for once as you’d rarely seen him do.  You weren’t sure he intended to fall asleep here, but he’d definitely planned on being here for a while based on the pillow he had under the elbow of his other arm, which might have been propping up his head before he fell asleep.

Frankly, you were surprised that none of them had woken up with all your running about.  And...you were a little glad, too, because now you got to see this scene.

You lingered, deciding against waking him up for the time being.  They all looked so...peaceful right now.  The scene was soft and warm, Levi’s hair falling gently in front of a face that was suddenly gentle and missing signs of hardness or harsh edges.  He looked perfectly comfortable and at peace lying there beside the twins, and you kind of wished he’d stay like this solely because...well, he seemed more approachable like this, at least to you.  He looked...sweet, lying there with the twins.  Even the twins looked slightly more peaceful than normal when they slept, like they were aware they were being protected while they slept, safe under his arm.

After simply gazing at the scene for several long minutes, you left them alone--at least for now--and retrieved your things by the door to put them away.  Almost all of it went to your room, so it was one quick, quiet trip and then you were coming back downstairs.  Levi and the twins were still asleep in the living room, but now you didn’t have an excuse to delay, and the twins really should have been asleep in their crib.  So, quietly, you knelt down beside Levi, reaching out to gently touch his shoulder to wake him up.

He took a sharp breath in as he stiffened, eyelids opening even though his eyes were foggy and darting around to take in his surroundings, leaning slightly back to look at you.  Once he realized it was you, he started to relax slightly, rolling his shoulders and starting to sit up.

“It’s late.  Let’s get them in their cribs,” you said softly, receiving a grunt from Levi in acknowledgement as he sat up and gently pulled the blanket off of Asa, wrapping Ida up as he gently picked her up, taking care not to wake her in the process.  You picked up Asa in the meantime, freezing for a heartbeat when Asa twitched and you thought he might wake up before, thankfully, he settled back down, and you were able to get to your feet without waking him.

This was one of the few times you would let Levi into your room, just for the few moments it took for him to safely put one of the twins in the crib.  He made sure they were covered and warm, lying on their back without anything in the way before he backed up to the doorway, leaning on the frame just outside your bedroom.

“How was the spa?” he asked you as he watched you situate Asa in his crib, watching the twins for a few moments just to make sure they really were going to fall asleep.

“Very nice,” you said honestly, a little part of you in the back of your mind grateful that the two of you had at least gotten to the point you could have simple conversation.  “I even rescheduled...a month out.”

Levi’s gaze wandered to the sun dress you had laying on the bed.  “And had a shopping spree afterwards?”

You shrugged, stepping away from the cribs and making your way towards the doorway.  Levi stepped out of your way and let you walk by, closing the door behind you before he followed you back down the stairs to the living room.

“Not really.  I browsed a few places, but didn’t buy much.  I had dinner, saw a movie, walked around downtown--just a regular night out,” you said simply, starting to pick up the baby toys on the floor.  Levi helped, especially since he’d contributed to the mess, folding up the blanket and putting the pillows back up on the couch.

“Will you be going out again?  Before next month’s appointment?” Levi asked casually, though you were well aware he was hoping this one day out had inspired you to get out of the house more.

“Maybe.  I’m looking at some things, I’ll let you know,” you murmured, playing idly with the stuffed animal in your hand.  “What about while I was gone?  They weren’t too fussy, were they?”

“They seemed fairly content.  I think they were looking for their mother sometimes, though,” Levi said honestly.  You appreciated the honesty.  As much as it tasted bittersweet that they’d missed you, you also appreciated that he didn’t try to claim they’d been perfectly happy without you, with just him to keep them company.  At least he hadn’t made it sound like they didn’t need you.  “You look different.”

You turned to look at him, stuffed animals in your arms with your hand wrapped around the baby rattle.  “You booked the full package, didn’t you?  It was practically a full makeover.”  You shifted, suddenly a little self-conscious, though you couldn’t for the life of you figure out why.  “Is that a bad thing?”

“Never said it was.”

An awkward silence lingered between the two of you for a few moments, what could have been a nice moment spoiled by the tension of the history between the two of you as you turned away.  “I’ve been running around all day.  I’m going to head to bed...I’ll see you in the morning,” you said softly, already leaving the room before you even finished talking.

You were tired, and you wanted to rest, but you also wanted to get out while the conversation was positive, leave things on a good note before the two of you had the chance to spoil it by accident or bringing up things that didn’t need brought up.

Let this moment stay a good day, a good memory.  Which was exactly what it became when you were able to fall asleep that night without any other incident.

(One Month Later)

You had slowly grown used to the house, made it your own.  There were still a few things that made you reluctant to call it home, namely the continued awkwardness and unease living with Levi, but you were starting to be able to coexist with him, which was the important thing.  You had your spots around the house now, places you liked to be.  There was your room of course, but now there was also the library, where you liked to go up to the balcony floor to read, and outside, where you were working on some yard work to make the place feel more at home.  You were planning on putting outside toys in the back when the twins were old enough--sprinklers on a water hose for the kids to play in, a playhouse, swing sets, that kind of thing.  In the front, you were more worried about plant life--flowers, trees, bushes, the like.  Maybe put in some rock beds.  If you were lucky, maybe you could even convince Levi to let you put in a fountain or two--make the place look nice.  You were determined to put in the flowers, bushes, and at least one tree.  You still needed to talk to Levi to see if remodeling the front and back lawn was part of his ‘make this place yours’ statement, but you were drawing up plans for larger alterations while making the smaller ones like the rock beds, bushes, and flowers.

At the moment, however, you were looking for something a bit less laborious than gardening.  You just wanted some quiet time in the library while the twins were down for a nap, which meant you were heading up to the tower with the baby monitor on your person, hoping that Levi wasn’t currently holed up in there with the door locked, which would have meant your plans were entirely spoiled and you’d have to think of something new.

You paused with your hand hovering over the doorknob, able to hear Levi’s voice once again, faintly, from the other side of the door.

Shit, he was in there, which meant the door was probably locked, and you couldn’t go in.  So much for a bit of reading for your time to yourself.

You started to back away from the door, but paused, that curiosity that you had managed to keep at bay for these past few months cropping up much stronger and more intense than it had been, especially when you knew all you had to do...was press your ear up to the door for a few minutes and listen, just long enough to get context and figure out what might be going on behind that door, combined with what you saw of him afterwards usually--though usually he disappeared to his room or the bathroom directly afterwards unless he was needed.

You really should just walk away.  Part of you was afraid to know what was happening behind that door.  But at the same time, the curiosity was killing you.

Fuck it.  Just get it over with.

Slowly and hesitantly, so you didn’t make any noise that might give you away, you gently pressed your ear against the wood, closing your eyes to focus more on what you heard and not get distracted by the grains in the wood or something.

For a few moments, you didn’t really...hear anything.  Just soft but heavy breathing--well, if you could hear it, it was probably panting.  There was the softest grunt, and you heard him speak again.

“There.  Right there…” Levi said, his voice sounding a little strained and followed by a low moan.

Wait a second…

You strained you ears to try and catch maybe another voice, a different pitch, but all you could hear was Levi, no one else.  Which made you doubt your brief moment of almost realization.

But then you heard a low chuckle that made a tingle go down your spine in an almost conditioned response.  “Faster?  Impatient today, aren’t we?”

Oh yeah, that was definitely what was going on in there.  It would explain why the few times you saw him afterwards he looked disheveled and a little sweaty if he didn’t get a chance to clean up first.  As for the lack of a responding individual...well, either he was rubbing one out for himself, which would suggest a stupidly high sex drive bordering on addiction with how long and often he was up here, or he was performing for an audience that wasn’t necessarily here.

Whichever it was, you really didn’t want to be listening much longer now that you had a hint about what was going on in there.

Also, if there was an audience, it would explain why he wouldn’t want you walking in on that.

You shook your head after pulling away from the door and hurried back down the spiral staircase, trying desperately to erase the image that your mind easily called up with your...extensive experience with Levi what you were now forced to realize was hardly a year ago.  A whole year since the wild three months of regular wild sex that had led to the situation you were in now.

And now that you thought about it...he hadn’t once touched you since that last night.  Not at all.  Only accidental brushes or the occasional assistance with the twins, or when he’d carried you into the house that first night here.

You didn’t think you hated him anymore, after the past five months with him and the twins.  But you still didn’t like him.  Still, you couldn’t help but wonder...what were the two of you?  What were you now, and what were you going to be?  Was there even a name for whatever this arrangement between the two of you?

Maybe you just needed to wait a little longer and find out what would happen next.

But right now, you really didn’t want to be thinking about what he was doing up in that tower.  You’d been right the first time, it would have been better if your curiosity remained in check.  Now you were going to have to try and avoid thinking about what he was doing up there every time he locked himself in the damn library.

Fuck.

(Two Months Later)

*Levi’s POV*

While domestic life was gradually getting easier between Levi and Y/N, especially with her getting out of the house for glass blowing lessons every week--that hadn't been what he expected her to pick up, but he wasn't going to complain so long as she was getting out every now and then--Levi was mostly focused on the twins, who had been growing rather rapidly.  Not abnormally so, just, he hadn't expected them to grow this quickly.  Y/N was practically ordering new clothes for them through the catalogues monthly, though he had a feeling she was also trying to get ahead of the growth spurt, buying clothes for one year and older as well and not just the seven months they were currently at.

With both of them not working, considering they were living off the mass of wealth Levi had stolen and accumulated over the centuries and the money he'd made in more modern times doing sex work, they were both there for many of the firsts with the twins.

Two months in, the now calm coexistence with Y/N had still been rough and more tense than anything.  But that had also been the time when Levi had entered the same room as Y/N when she was walking the twins around for some sight seeing outside the bedroom.  As he rounded the corner and approached, Asa had turned his little head at the sound of Levi's approach and smiled for the first time upon locking eyes with Levi.  It had cut him right to the heart--in a good way, and softened his expression immediately, a faint smile flickering across his face as well with the bright look his son was giving him, and one of his firsts, at that.

The first thing Asa smiled at in this world had been him.

Of course, he'd tried to hide it, simply because at that point he was worried about how Y/N would react knowing Levi got the first smile from the twins.  Thankfully, Ida smiled at her mother a few days later, which made Levi relax a bit once more with the relief of Y/N getting the same first with Ida, at least.  The last thing he'd wanted was her to have another reason to be jealous or upset with him.

Not that he could help it, or would apologize for it.

His son smiled for the first time when he saw him.  How could that make him feel bad, besides when he overthought it on his own time worrying about how Y/N perceived him?

While he dodged a bullet with the first smile thing, since it was split between the two of them, the first laugh was singular to him, and him alone, for both twins.  Thankfully that had been roughly around the four month mark, and Y/N had been far more tolerant and forgiving of him by then--hell, she’d been willing to let him take care of the twins on his own while she went out for a day to herself.  That was progress.

One of the twins he’d made laugh by accident, while the other was definitely on purpose, though he hadn’t known it was their first laugh at the time, so he’d felt a little guilty that he’d accidentally made it so he shared more of the firsts with the twins than she did.

Ida had been the first one he made laugh, and it had been entirely by accident.  Him and Y/N started to get into a bit of an argument over something petty, as usual, something that didn’t matter overall and was mostly fueled by the old wounds between them instead of the matter they were arguing over.  The twins happened to be in the room at the time, and in an effort to get the topic to be dropped so the twins wouldn’t have to be in the room as it escalated into a full-blown fight, Levi had looked away with his signature, dismissive ‘Tch’ sound.

That little sound had made Ida giggle and squirm happily while staring at him with a wide smile, which had effectively shut down any argument they’d been having in favor of the fact one of their twins had laughed for the first time.  More specifically, she’d laughed at the funny noise her father made, but still she’d laughed, and they’d both heard it.

And frankly, if she was around and he made that little noise, she would giggle at it.  It actually made him a little self-conscious of how often he made that noise.

Asa had clearly been the one he’d made laugh on purpose.  It had been while he was playing with the little boy, which right now consisted of simply tickles, silly little games, waving interesting objects in their face, that kind of thing.  Levi had been tickling his tummy and feet to keep Asa entertained while they laid on the floor, Asa on the play mat and Levi stretched out beside it, and as his hand came in for quick little tickles all across the little boy’s tummy and sides.  Asa had let out a squeal, legs lifting momentarily into the air and arms pinwheeling beside him and thumping into the ground at the tickles.

And again, Levi smiled in turn, not at that moment realizing it had been Asa’s first laugh.  That part came later, when he mentioned he’d gotten Asa to squeal-laugh while playing with him and he’d seen the downcast look on Y/N’s face.  That look had told him she’d missed something before she’d told him that was the first time Asa had laughed, and it had been because of Levi again, while she was out for the night at the glass blowing class she’d decided to give a try.

Again, he felt a little bad that he currently had experienced more of the children’s firsts by his own hand than she had, but he wasn’t going to let that taint the memories themselves.  They were still good, precious memories he was going to hold onto.

Like their first baths--actual baths, not the sponge baths they got for the first few weeks after coming home from the hospital.  That had taken some convincing, since that had been when the animosity was still fresh, but with Y/N’s supervision, he’d been able to give them their first baths, which he’d insisted on doing.  The twins hadn’t been sure how to react to the experience, both of them appearing to find it all strange and new, but not yet deciding if it was a good or bad thing.  Ida kept trying to grab everything he used to clean her to inspect them, but he kept it firmly out of her reach and stayed focused on very carefully cleaning every part of them so there wasn’t a trace of filth or stink on them, leaving their skin smooth and soft since he’d been careful they didn’t end up dried out, either.  In his opinion, they seemed a bit more active and squirmy afterwards, like they’d been pleased with the clean feeling afterwards despite the alien experience.

He was definitely there when Y/N started to slowly get them eating food instead of just breastmilk.  That was still new, since it was usually recommended around the six month mark, which they hadn’t passed that long ago.  It was strictly baby food right now, no soft melting finger foods yet, just spoon fed baby food, but it was still a graduation from breast milk, which had Levi excited that his anxiety over Y/N possibly being impatient to pump milk and feeding them straight from the source would finally be over when they graduated completely from breast feeding.  When he was the one feeding them, he was always careful to make sure they were paced no matter how eager to eat they might be, and that they didn’t get too much in their little mouths, so they wouldn’t inhale the food and choke.  And, of course, he was always trying to make it as neat of an experience as possible, to the point he’d gotten pretty good at catching stray baby food with the spoon without leaving any traces behind.

They were also able to sit up by now, in a way.  That one was Y/N’s doing--she’d apparently sat with them on the couch and discovered they could officially sit up as long as they were propped on something, which meant that they could play with some toys to entertain themselves on their own for a little while as they read or watched a movie or whatever it was that they wanted to do.  Y/N liked to prop them up on the crescent shaped pillow with a few baby toys within reach and read books from the library.  Levi, however, was still in a mindset to snatch each and every moment he could, just in case Y/N’s favor towards him turned foul in the future and these moments became scarce.  So when the twins were with him, usually all of his attention was on them.  He, of course, tended to have the lingering feeling like this was time he was being allowed to have and he needed to make the most of it.

Even though he was painfully aware of the fact that he and the twins had an eternity stretched in front of them as long as nothing terrible happened, and Y/N only had a few short years with them.  If anyone should be acting like every moment was a rare allowance, it was her, but she wasn’t aware she was on a clock, and he didn’t like to think about it--not at this early stage.  Let her enjoy these years of firsts and infancy in peace, let the memories be pure.  He’d tell her when they got a bit older.  While she still had a few years left, but after the first couple of innocent years had passed untainted by the knowledge.

They were rolling over now, too, which had Levi a little leery about the house.  He was thinking about officially baby proofing it, and just how gung-ho he wanted to go with it.  Considering they had twins and they were his children, it was probably better to be safe than sorry.

Ridiculous amounts of baby proofing it was.  Until some of them frustrated the hell out of him and he realized the lack of necessity for some of them through trial and error.  But right now, if they were going to be crawling around and exploring soon, all sharp edges and dangerous items and open electrical sockets needed taken care of.  And gates needed to be put up.  Fuck, were there baby gates for grand double staircases?

At the moment, it was a rare moment of familial quiet time in the library, the twins snoozing on the baby mat in front of Y/N piled on top of each other like kittens clutching toys and stuffed animals, Y/N curled up on the couch with a book down below while Levi perused his collection on the second floor looking for something he wouldn’t mind reading again.  A lot of the books here were ones that he’d read before and decided they were worth keeping a copy of because he felt they could be read more than once.

As he was passing by the window, moving from one bookshelf to another, he glanced outside, past the large semi-finished lawn and to the street he could view from this high up at this particular window.  However, his movement was brought to a halt in front of the window, gaze fixed on the same spot with burning intensity as he took a step closer to the window to get a better look.

There was someone standing on the opposite side of the street, looking up at the house with as much attention as Levi was currently looking down on them.  The people walking around on the street didn’t seem to notice he was even there, as if it was just open air.  The tingle on the back of Levi's neck confirmed he was seeing someone currently in between, someone keeping themselves unseen to the human eye.  He didn’t have a name for the person he was gazing at, but there was faint recognition.  He felt like it might have been one of the demons who had initially dragged him back to the Infernal Council trial that had led to Levi having to impregnate Y/N.  A vengeance demon, if he remembered properly, and not at all a friend.  A threat, at the very least.

Their gazes locked, and a dangerous burn entered Levi’s gaze, body tensing as he realized he couldn’t let confirmation of where he and the twins were living get out.

I see you.

Y/N wasn’t paying attention to him at the moment, thankfully, so Levi shifted into the in between himself, wings unfurling as he stepped right through what had been a physical wall, his wings controlling the rapid descent as he made a beeline for the other demon that was turning to make a run for it.  The other demon just had to get the information to someone else.  Levi just had to silence him before he could.

The other demon took off with bat-like wings smaller than Levi’s own draconic ones, trying to zip through small places and outmaneuver him.  Levi, however, wasn’t shaken, following with ease and rapidly gaining speed, coming closer and closer as they flew above the roofs of homes and businesses.  Finally, the vengeance demon made the mistake Levi had been counting on him making, and he tried to plummet down and enter Hell so he could shout the information to the nearest demons and let gossip and natural spread of information do the rest.

However, as soon as he tucked in those wings and started to plummet, Levi tucked in as well, diving with the speed and accuracy of a bird swooping down upon an unsuspecting mouse.  His arms wrapped around the other demon with a snarl, turning them both to the side and keeping them from shifting one more plane down into Hell.  They crashed to the ground, Levi making sure the other demon was taking the brunt of the fall before he jumped back up to his feet two paces away from the other demon.  As the other let out a frustrated growl and his twisted true form burst through, Levi’s eyes narrowed, his own human form bleeding away to reveal his demon form, wings, horns, tail, and all.

This was a slightly more matched fight.  Vengeance demons could be vicious, but they were oddly enough considered a lower class of demon like incubi and succubi.  Though he still had some nasty natural weapons Levi was going to have to be mindful of if he wanted to come out of this fight on top.  Like those claws he was staring at, or the fangs.  Vengeance demons certainly weren’t crafted for allure like incubi were, looking more like the Dracula vampire form in the Hugh Jackman Van Helsing movie.

Thankfully, one good thing about all the deals he’d been making and years he’d been gaining, was that he was pumped full of vitality and strength, more than he normally was.  Clearly the Council hadn’t been thinking about that little side effect when they put him in the position to have to make this damn deal.

The other demon lunged at Levi, who stood his ground and lowered his body into a charging position at the last moment, his horns now perfectly aligned to impale the demon that charged him.  When the other howled, Levi quickly backed up before he left his neck exposed any longer than necessary, moving out of range of those wicked claws that slashed at him.  Black ichor dripped down his horns and onto his skin, gold and black eyes flashing as he braced himself for another attack.  The demon lunged itself at him again, and this time Levi met him head on, hands flashing through the air as the two exchanged blows, Levi deflecting most of the others hits and landing a few solid hits of his own, causing black blood to spatter onto the pavement below.  Some of it, unfortunately, was his own.  Those claws managed to do a bit of damage even when Levi deflected since they were so damn sharp, breaking skin wherever they connected.  Levi ignored the sting, however, and stayed focused on the fight, stepping back and leaning away every now and then to avoid the snapping fangs that tried to savagely rip at any flesh it could come into contact with.

Levi ducked and weaved around the other demon, keeping his attacks quick, his movements agile, doing his best not to let the other demon land any solid hits on him as he methodically tore them apart.  The other demon could probably sense he wasn’t going to win this fight, his attacks turning wild and unrefined, Levi able to dodge almost all of them as he put the demon on the ground, pinning him beneath Levi’s weight as he proceeded to beat them to death.

It was a brutal way to go, but he didn’t have any demonic weapons on hand to finish him off, so it would have to be by his own hands.  Killing demons could be tricky, and this was someone he couldn’t let slip through the cracks and risk telling people where Levi and the twins were.

Mid swing, when the demon below him started to look like a bloody pulp, a sudden surge of strength from the being beneath him caught Levi off guard, and he felt sharp claws sink into his abdomen, slender, bony fingers pushed past--it felt like it went all the way through, at least barely.  Levi choked, pain wracking his body, but determination and fierce protectiveness for the little family he had back at that mansion pushed him through it so he could slam the full weight of his fist into the demon’s temple while its head was pressed against the ground, hearing a sick crack and feeling the hand that had impaled him go limp.  He didn’t remove it, yet, knowing that would only cause the bleeding to worsen and the injury to get worse, which he did not need right now.

A few more hits, and he was certain the vengeance demon wasn’t going to be getting back up.  There was no breath, no heartbeat, and he still did another hit or two--overkill, yes--just to be sure.

He needed to get back home.  He needed to take care of this, before he bled out and died.  This was arguably worse than the wounds Zeke gave him.

Being extremely careful he didn’t cause any more damage than was inevitable, Levi let his wings unfurl again, ready to take flight the moment he was free as he slowly pulled the clawed fingers out of his torso.  The demon beneath him was already turning a matte black and seemed to be crumbling, which confirmed that yes, they were very dead, and no one would be able to retrieve the information of where Levi and the others were located.

Though he really needed to figure out what trail had led the demon there in the first place.  He’d have to ask Furlan to look into that.

Those thoughts could wait for later.

As soon as the fingers were clear, Levi pressed his arm against the holes in his abdomen to try and staunch the flow of black ichor, wings already lifting him into the air with temporarily powerful beats in the air, carrying him as fast as he could manage back home.  By now Y/N would have noticed his sudden disappearance, but she was going to have to deal with his disappearing act a little longer.  He didn’t want her seeing this.

By the time the house appeared within view again, Levi was barely keeping himself in the air, head swimming as he bobbed and weaved almost drunkenly through the sky, breaths labored as he simply aimed for making it to the bathroom in the house.

It was a crash landing, Levi ending up curled up on his side on the cold floor as his demon form slowly bled away and gave way to his human form again and he fazed back to the physical plane, skin clammy and eyes half-open as his gaze roamed his familiar bathroom.  His foot weakly kicked the door shut.  He dragged himself over to the cabinet he kept the towels in, dragging out the black ones to press hard against his wound while his bloody hand reached for his phone to make a call--or rather, text--for help.

Human hands or means he couldn’t die from.  Demons and Angels, supernatural beings, that was another story.  Which was why he couldn’t let himself bleed out here in the bathroom.  He had two children that were going to need him after their mother was gone, and he needed assistance with this injury.

The bastard had actually gotten a good last hit on him, and he hated it.

I need help.  Don’t let Y/N see you, the text read when he sent it.  Now all he had to do was sit and wait and hope he didn’t bleed out before help came.

He was borderline unconscious when Isabel finally showed up, walking through the In Between so Y/N wouldn’t see her and she could just walk through walls instead of worrying about locks and doors.  Her words were far away when she picked him up off the floor and leaned him against the wall, but it didn’t take much to figure out what she was trying to say to him despite his current condition.

“Vengeance demon was watching the house.  Had to take care of him before he told anyone,” Levi murmured as Isabel got a good look at the injury, moving around the bathroom to find the first aid supplies Levi kept, water, more towels, things like that.

“A vengeance demon did this to you?” Isabel asked skeptically.  Levi snorted acerbically.

“Caught me off guard.  Guess I’m a little rusty,” he mumbled.

“It’s fixable, but it’s not going to be pleasant.  Your healing’s done part of the work already, but try not to move or fall asleep for a while.”

“I know the drill...Isabel...I don’t know how he found out about the house, but--”

“I know.  I’ll tell Furlan, see what we can find.  Maybe you guys should go to one of the other safe houses until we find out where the leak is.”

Levi shook his head.  “No...Y/N’s just started to settle in and get a life again.  I don’t want to move her.”

“Tell her it’s a vacation.  Go to that beach cottage you love so much.  Take the kids to see the ocean.  Just for a couple weeks, and then right back after we figure this out.”

“...Maybe.  We’ll see.”

There was a knock on the door, and both of them grew quiet, Levi becoming a bit more alert and trying to sit up as Y/N’s voice sounded from the other side of the door.

“Levi?  Are you in there?”

Levi cleared his throat, taking a moment to make sure there wouldn’t be traces of pain or weakness in his voice as he asked a quick, simple, “What?”

“You disappeared, I just...are you okay?”

“Fine,” he said, his tone almost curt, though he made sure it was soft enough she wouldn’t think he was angry at her.

“Okay, but...I have my class tonight, so you’re going to have to watch the twins in an hour or so.”

Levi cursed in his mind, grinding his teeth together.  “I’ll call Isabel, then.”

There were a few long moments of silence where Isabel stared at him, Levi well aware he just accidentally tipped his hand if Y/N had learned anything about him and how he felt about the twins.  He never gave up a chance to be around them and take care of them, and was always more than willing to have one on one time with them.

The doorknob rattled, the door starting to open since neither Levi nor Isabel had bothered to lock it--or in Levi’s case, hadn't been in a condition to lock it.  Levi quickly leaned over and pushed it shut before she could get it open enough to see what was happening inside, his hand pressed flat against the door and a low groan of pain escaping him at the sudden movement.  He hoped she hadn’t heard that, with how his face was maybe two inches off the floor, the sound quiet and maybe not heard over the click of the door shutting.

“I respect your privacy.  Do the same for me...please,” Levi ground out, tagging on the last part so he wouldn’t come off too harsh.  They were finally getting in a good place, he didn’t want to ruin that because he was hurt and his answers were a bit brisk right now.

There were a few moments of silence again, except this time, Y/N simply walked away.  Isabel was right next to him, a hand pressed against his injury to keep it from bleeding more since he’d just agitated it, helping him to get back in a sitting position.  This time he managed to keep the gasp contained, though the pain was spelled out across his face, surely.

“Babysitting?” he asked Isabel briefly as she got back to work on his injury.

“I’ve got it,” she answered just as quietly.

Damn, he was glad he had at least some friends to help him with all this.  He’d be shit outta luck if he didn’t have Isabel and Furlan.

Levi leaned his head back and let Isabel do her work, simply focusing on enduring the pain and keeping his eyes open as his mind raced with what he should do now.

Predictably, Y/N hadn’t been open to leaving the house for a vacation when she was finally making it home and she had her weekly classes.  She’d been open to the vacation in the future, but right now, she wanted to stay here with the babies, and she had not been open to leaving.  So, Isabel, Furlan, and Levi had to work around that stubbornness to make sure the house remained safe, and Levi had to default to settling for his other, more long term safety measure.

It wasn’t a full solution, but it was a nice start, and it would do more than just add a bit of security to the property.

He had an unannounced day out besides a bit of a warning to Y/N earlier that morning, telling her he didn’t know how long he would be gone, but that he should at least be back in time for dinner.  She didn’t get angry this time--she’d stopped getting angry when he left, since now it was part of normal everyday life and the twins had been home for a few months now.  Not to mention, he rarely went out on days that varied from his usual, except when there was something he needed to do or get for them.

The first three-fourths of his day was spent searching for the perfect fit.  He went to several stores, some out of town, looking for the perfect one, which was a lot more difficult than it might have been for normal people.  The last small part of the day was reserved for supplies, which would be easy once he finally settled on his choice.  He’d done a bit of research two or three days prior, and he knew generally what he was looking for.  Now it was just the matter of finding the right one.

He was looking for a dog.

A puppy, more accurately.  Very young, probably recently started on the transition away from their mother.  He wanted a puppy so that he could start training early, and so that the little one could grow up with the twins and they could form a comfortable bond.  He already knew the breeds he was looking at, he’d narrowed it down to a Doberman pinscher or a German shepherd, and since he knew what age he wanted, it should have been easy, right?

No.  It wasn’t.  Not for a demon.  Dogs could sense the infernal nature in him, and they were not very welcoming whenever he walked into a kennel or a pet store.  Most of them growled or barked or were on edge when he entered.  It might have been another reason he was looking for a puppy.  If he got them that young, they could learn to be comfortable around him and the twins, instead of naturally being hostile.  But it was also making his search a little more difficult.  Not only did he have to find a puppy of one or both of the breeds that fit what he was looking for, he had to find one that took to him fairly well that wasn’t going to be on edge because of his infernal blood.

It didn’t help he could feel some judgmental looks from the caretakers whenever all the dogs responded negatively to him.  He ignored it, though.  If he looked long enough, surely he’d eventually find one that would warm up to him.

His search finally came to an end not at a pet store or a shelter, but at someone’s home.  They’d put up an add that their dogs had puppies and they were selling most of them, and he’d decided to give it a try.  The Doberman father of the puppies had admittedly tried to bite him when he arrived, but the owners had put the dog in another room and brought him into the room they were keeping the puppies in.  The German shepherd mother they had to put on a leash, because she nearly freaked out when Levi was brought into the same room as her puppies, but thankfully the owners were still letting him look.  Patiently, Levi took a seat on the ground instead of the couches, putting himself on the level of the puppies who were old enough to be wandering around and be separated from their mother if they were picked, but young enough they were still being kept around her.

Most of the puppies scattered and hid or went to their mother, but there were two or three brave souls who wanted to check him out and see what this new person that smelled funny to them was.  One left after the mother barked at them when they got too close, and another wouldn’t get close enough for Levi to touch them, but the third…

The puppy was a boy, more Doberman in coloration, but with a German shepherd lean in body structure.  He had little light brown eyebrow and ear markings, a soft light brown underbelly marking and up half of his legs, two light brown, symmetrical patches at the front of its chest, a light brown muzzle, and a little tuft of white/grey fur running in a stripe from nose to between the eyes.  This little guy ignored any warnings from his siblings and mother and went up to Levi, albeit hesitantly, who stayed still and let the puppy sniff him experimentally, occasionally jumping back as if he kept expecting Levi to do something before he would approach again.  When he got comfortable enough to linger around Levi, he carefully extended a hand and let the puppy sniff him, even letting it nibble playfully on his fingers before he very gently and carefully gave the tiny puppy a few gentle pets.  After that, he seemed rather confident, crawling right into Levi’s lap and looking for a comfortable position as he snuggled in.

Finally.  Ironic how it ended up being a mix of the two breeds he’d been looking for.  Or maybe that was part of what made it so perfect.

After that he just had to talk to the owners about price and what the puppy had already been given regarding shots and the like, and if they were already starting house training him or were leaving that for the next owner.  He had the whole discussion with the puppy in his lap, acting as if it was entirely normal that this was happening.  He had twins that happily lolled around in his lap--thankfully they weren’t crawling yet--so a puppy making a happy home in his lap was nothing.

After the discussion with the owner and paying, Levi left with one very tiny nine week old puppy who was already asleep tucked under his arm.  It might not have been the safest, but he let the little guy stay there and drove back to the best store he’d been to one handed, the puppy in his arms waking up at the drastic change in the air after the car came to a stop and Levi stepped inside.  He sat the puppy down in the grass to do his business before picking him back up in his arm and heading inside to get all the dog supplies he needed--with help from one of the store associates, who talked to him about what he’d need for a puppy, and he needed to talk to in order to set up training lessons as well--the basics, at least.  The more advanced guard dog stuff would have to wait until the puppy was older and would probably need a different kind of trainer.

He also let the little guy run around on the floor in the toy aisle to pick some toys while he worried about dog food, bed, leash, collar, food bowls, all that kind of stuff.  The collar ended up being a dark green and gold one, which he got a nameplate for at the kiosk in the store.

Which also meant he needed to come up with a name for the puppy on the spot.

He watched the little guy after filling out address and phone number for if he got lost, the name the only thing still needed as he watched the puppy bounding around, currently entertained with a canvas toy he was absolutely enamored by, tail wagging furiously as he gnawed on the toy.

Hmm...a guard dog...but he didn’t want it terribly cliché, so nothing like Cerberus, Spike, Fang, or anything like that.  Maybe something the twins might eventually be able to say with ease--in a way.

Levi cocked his head to the side, giving it a few more minutes of thought before he finally keyed in CAPTAIN in big letters to have engraved onto the golden name plate.

Once he had everything, Levi and Captain headed back to the car, all of the stuff loaded into the back and Captain getting a seat of honor in his lap where Levi could make sure that the puppy was safe during the drive--after he was let out into the grass again, just to make sure he didn’t need to relieve himself again before they got in the car.

Normally, he probably should have brought this up to Y/N first, but after the encounter with the vengeance demon, Levi wanted some kind of layer of protection for the family he now had to take care of.  He couldn’t ask Isabel and Furlan to constantly keep an eye on the house, and no security system in the world, no matter how state of the art, was going to be able to protect against a demon walking through the In Between plane.

But a dog, a dog could see--a bit--creatures that walked in the In Between.  Cats could, too--animals in general had always been sensitive about that kind of thing.  But a dog he could train to alert them when there was something in the In Between lurking around the property.  It could help if Levi wasn’t around, or if Levi wasn’t somewhere he could see with a glance out the window.  It was another layer of protection, even if it was slight, and it would help Levi have a bit of peace of mind that they would be a little safer on the grounds.  It would take a lot of hard work and training when the dog was older, training him to growl or bark a certain way when there was a demon in the In Between lurking around, but not to bark or growl at Levi or Furlan when they were walking around in the In Between.

He’d figure it out when the puppy was older.  Right now, it was all about integration into the house...and convincing Y/N to let the fact he’d done this without asking her slide.  And convincing her it was a good idea.

When he came home, he once again let the puppy in the grass to do its business, having been told by the store owner that the puppy was going to go all the time in this early stage and he’d have to be vigilant and patient, and that messes inside were inevitable until the puppy was old enough to be properly potty trained, and he eventually was trained successfully.

Twins and a puppy...he really was taking on a lot at once, but...he needed this extra layer of protection for the twins, and he needed the puppy to be young so he could get them used to demons, for his and the twins sakes.  He couldn’t exactly wait, either, considering the threat was real now, even if he wasn’t planning on making it known to Y/N.  Not yet, anyway.

Once Captain had done his business once more, Levi scooped him up and headed inside, leaving the supplies and toys in the car for now.

As soon as the door closed behind them, he heard Y/N moving from the living room, coming over to the foyer with Asa in hand and then freezing when she saw the tiny excited thing wiggling in Levi’s arms wanting to run over and check out the new person and the new surroundings.

“What the hell?” Y/N asked, sounding for the moment too stunned to be angry.

Levi kept a firm hold on Captain, unaware where Ida was and wanting to be safe for the time being.  He planned on Captain getting used to the twins scents and adjusting to being around himself and Y/N before he did an actual first meeting, so he was keeping a tight hold on the puppy for the moment.

“I know I didn’t give you any warning, but this...is Captain.  He’s going to be our new guard dog...eventually,” he said, scratching Captain behind the ear and watching as the puppy turned to investigate, nibbling at his fingers again.

“You got a puppy,” Y/N said blankly, still staring, though Levi didn’t miss how she held Asa a little tighter.

“A puppy can adjust to being around three demons.  And he can grow up with the twins, too, so they’re used to each other,” Levi explained.

“And you didn’t think to ask me first?” she asked pointedly, and Levi grimaced inwardly.  The question that he couldn’t get around.

“I did,” he said honestly.

“But you didn’t ask me.”

“Because it was something I was going to do regardless,” Levi said, giving the puppy little strokes along its head as it licked at the hand holding it.

“You should have asked me.”

“Yes,” he agreed.  “But it still doesn’t change anything.  We need a guard dog, and the best way to go about it is get a young puppy to raise with the twins and get used to being around demons.”

“We need one?” she asked incredulously.

“Yes.  A guard dog can do what a security system can’t for us,” Levi said calmly.  “I won’t be pushing any more responsibilities off on you--I’ll be training and taking care of him, you won’t have to worry about him, usually.  Except the few times I’m not home and he needs let out.”

“Are you sure having a puppy around the twins is a good idea?  What if they don’t get along?” she asked in concern.

“I’m not going to throw them together right away.  I’m going to have him get used to their scent and make sure he associates good things with them first.  And I specifically got a breed that’s good with children and families.”

“Families?”

Levi glanced up at her, realizing for the first time the connotations he was bringing to light whenever he referred to or thought of them as a family.  A dysfunctional one, for sure, unique and with strange relationships...but they were, weren’t they?  Children, mother, father, even if mother and father weren’t together and had a strained relationship.  Now they even had a family dog.

“Is Ida in the other room?” he asked, instead of saying anything about his use of family.

“Yeah, she’s napping on the floor, Asa wore her out.”

Levi nodded.  “If it’s all right with you, I’m going to get a few things from your bedroom with the twins scent on them for him to start getting used to the smells before meeting the three of you.  I’ll keep it out of destructive reach and put him in my room while I bring his things in,” Levi explained, waiting for her express permission before he moved.

Hesitantly, Y/N nodded, still looking a little upset and unsure about the whole thing before Levi headed upstairs to start getting Captain settled into his new home.

Next Part---->

(Strikethroughs Couldn’t Be Tagged)

Everything Tags:  @antisteller​

Levi Tags:  @clary-quinn @humanitys-hottestsoldier @whalerus @sunny-flo @thirstyforsometea @hauntedhousecat @peaches-and-clouds @queenofcurse @wubbawubwub04 @lollobos @pasteldays @xcocolinox @itsmeaudrieee @macaronnv @tokyo-banana @apuci-kis-szornye @morgana-olson @yellowminb

A Demon’s Promise Tags:  @wo-ming-bai @rindulacre @seeeyounara @myherotrashbin @roseestuosity @drunkenlionart @mikamaek @logicallevi @whore-for-anime @krissykat0207 @september-sunsets @rockssocksthou @french-girl-online @kimuranini @tartxglia @beaniebanby @leviandhisgoonsquad 

[luimagines]

All Of Her Colors In A Storm

It was raining heavily and cold.

But they had to keep going.They all had to keep walking.

The smell of wet grass and wood on any other rainy day would have been absolutely delightful and calming to Mulan but not today.

Not right now.

Espesically since she wasn't techinacally here.

In fact it only seemed to make the sickly feeling they had inside of them worse like a wet thunderstorm was stirring around inside and out leaving them no place to go or hide.

They were tired,beaten and badly injured.

How did everything end up this way? Oh right it was because of the four swords that they-she?-mulan?-we?-LINK,took and got ourselves split into four separate parts of...us?

It was hard to explain and we just decided to just call each other by designed colors and not think too much on the implications of how different we seemed we were with our personalities compared to each other and “Mulan”,but we still managed to work it out.

They didn’t know how merg themselves back on their own so the group and four decided to try and travel to four’s hyrule and put the sword back into the stone in an attempt to reunite mulan again but somewhere along their adventures they had all gotten separated by the group and were attacked.Yellow got badly hurt and had to be carried by Cyan to safety while Green found an exist and brown fought off the remaining enemies before catching up with the rest..

We didn’t stop walking for hours and were already too tired.

Oh so tired.

They just wanted to rest.

But Brown wouldn’t let them and kept pushing for them to keep going.Saying that the rest of the chain were probably looking for them or waiting for us up ahead and we couldn’t stop because they could move and we’d never be able to catch up or find them ever again.Cyan had started to get tired of carrying Yellow so Green offered up to carry instead but after more hours of trekking in the mud and getting to a rocky clearing they realized something.Or more specifically Brown realized something.

“Oh...I see now.....” Brown said suddenly as she stopped and took in the landscape before turning around and walking the other way.

“Hey wait! Where are you going!” Green cried out.

“We made a wrong turn and need to go the other way,we can make up for time lost if we run the rest of the way back and walk the rest on foot!” Brown replied yelling a bit threw the loud storming pouring down on them.

“Wait,WHAT?? Ok,no,no,no,no,NO! I am done! I am NOT walking another mile back to the way we came, much less run all the way back!” Green stopped dead in her tracks in the mud as Brown continued to pass by her without much change to her almost permanent scowling look of determination on her face.

Cyan’s eyes were feeling baggy but she could still see the shaking arms Green had while carrying Yellow;she couldn’t tell if it was because of the cold weather getting to her or if it was because she was getting tired from carrying Yellow on her back but either way she wordlessly came over and pulled yellow off of her which her duplicate did not put up much of a fight against it since her focus was on Brown.

“HEY BROWN! I SAID I AM NOT GOING ANY FURTHER!” Green took a few steps forward to get close enough for her to hear.

Brown stopped in her tracks,turned around and eyed yellow before scrunching up her face and tilting her head back.

“Very well then,Cyan,get yellow and let’s go.” She turned to start walking again but stopped when Green called out again.

“No!Oh No!Nonononono! She’s not coming either! She is exhausted! We’re exhausted! We’ve been out in the rain for so long! We need to rest! Yellow needs a proper place to rest! We shouldn’t be walking for hours in the cold with open wounds while being sleep deprived!” Green threw her arms in the air frantically and walked closer to Brown as she pushed back strains of wet hair out from infront of her face, then stopped a few feet in front of her.

Brown stared into Green’s face a while before ever so slightly tilted her head to the side to see Cyan holding yellow and still not moving.

“Cyan we are leaving.Get Yellow and let's go.NOW.” She spoke over to Cyan as she gave a stern look before Green walked in front of her blocking her view from the two other girls.

“She is not leaving,Cyan go and put Yellow down to rest, we are not going anywhere.” she pointed over to a tree for Cyan to go to but as soon as she took a step towards the direction brown piped in again.

“No! Cyan we are not staying! The others are looking for us and we need to regroup with them! We don’t have time to rest!” Brown this time taking a side step past Green to try to get to Cyan but was stopped by having her arm grabbed.

“Cyan…” Green gave a gentle nod in her direction to go sit down and rest.

For a second she stood there looking back and forth between the two before deciding to go and lay Yellow under the tree and to begin tending to their wound first.

Brown ripped her arm away from Green once she saw Cyan make her way to the tree and turned to her not quit shouting but her volume very much increasing.

“What’s wrong with you? We need to keep moving! We can’t stop to rest when the other’s could need us right now!”

“We’re not going to be much help if we die from our open wounds! We’ll find them when we have the energy!” Yellow retorted, crossing her arms.

“And you need to rest as well!You need to stop treating yourself and everyone as expendable tools! In fact,I think you treat yourself and us as well worse than expendable tools! because at least their being used only when they're in proper shape, not when they're at their breaking point of no return!” Green shouted as she jabbed a finger into Brown's shoulder.

“Oh,really? I’ve been treating you all as expendable? I apologize,but If you hadn’t realize I am trying to get us all back to the group as quickly as possible so that YELLOW can get treated for her injuries because if you haven’t also already noticed WE ARE OUT OF HEALING POTIONS! We can't sit around using only bandages and gauze to keep her barely afloat from death’s door when we could just get her to Hyrule or the others! But I guess you wouldn’t care about that since you only want to “rrreeeeessst” and use the precious time we have to help her as “expendable sleepy time”, right?” Brown jabbed her finger into Green mimicking the same motion she did to her as before as Green swatted her hand away and said something back.

At this point everything started to get more muffled as Cyan tried to drown out the sounds of their voices while she tended to Yellow. Trying to focus on the wound in their abdomen that was reopening.She pulled out some needles and a small knife then set some bandages and a bottle of alcohol to the side as she got to work.Trying her hardest to not think about before during the fight,to not think about how Green and Brown were fighting again in the back,to not think about how much she missed fluffy and wish he was her to comfort her and not back with the rest of friends who she missed as well.But despite all the emotions swirling up in her head,she kept a straight face and managed to somehow block everything out to help her friend,erm,herself?

Once she was done she looked down at Yellow and furrowed her brows sorrowfully.

‘This is all my fault’ She thought to herself.

She turned to look over to where Green and Brown were and sure enough she saw they were still fighting.

Usually Yellow was the one to break up the fight because they could be a bit terrifying when they were angry,but she wasn’t awake right now.

‘All my fault’ Cyan thought again looking down at Yellow again.

“Oh so you want to start making low blows now? What did your small brute brain run out of excuses as to why we should be forced to keep doing what you want so you resorted to trying to hurt my feelings,hmmm,Brown?Oh wait,I am so sorry,I meant your maaajjeeesty! Because clearly this is a monarchy we’re in and not a team!” Green gave an exaggerated curtsy and bow to brown before straightening up again to stare back at her harshly.

“Oh,did you think that was a low blow? No,no,no that wouldn’t be a low blow.If i wanted to say something to hurt you I would have told you something like that it was a good thing our parents gave us away because I don’t think anyone would be able to physically handle how much of a mess you are much less how much worse you would have been if they raised you.” Brown turned her head back to Green with her eyes squinted slightly and a coy smile creeping its way onto her face as she stood slightly sideways with both arms crossed and head hung slightly low.

A loud audible staggered laugh could be heard

“ OH! OH!OH NO! Ok! OK THEN! FINE!! ALRIGHTY-DITY! WOW,OK!” Green flung her arms back up in the air and walked a few feet away from Brown backwards before spinning around facing away from her then started rolling up her sleeves and readjusted her clothes and armor as she pushed more of her hair back from the rain.

“Oh so you want to go THAT way now,huh?Want to go down the rabbit hole?ok ,ok,ok,I get it! You want to hit deep? You want to go all the way?Let's go then! I am sick and tired of always trying to be reasonable with you every time! You’ve had this one coming for you for a long time now, brown!” she spun back around and walked back to her and stood with hands balled up into fists by her side before she took a breath and exhaled.

Cyan didn’t like where this was going,she turned around and bowed her head down,shut her eyes and cupped her ears. She didn’t want to hear or see how nasty this was going to get.

“They'll stop eventually.They just need to get it out of their systems.They’ll stop and make up,just like they always do.” Cyan muttered to herself trying to keep herself distracted from them,but despite how hard she tried or how loud the storm around them got,it was like their voices got louder and louder with every shout, even if they weren’t getting any closer.

But she couldn’t get involved because she’d just get dragged into their argument.

They’ll stop eventually right?

Cyan was just so tired.

She just wanted to sleep.She missed fluffy.She missed her friends.If Time,Twilight or Warriors were her they would have made them stop by now.

They wanted to do something but they were just too tired.

They just want to rest,just a little bit then they’ll stop them if they're still fighting.

Their eyes started to lulle as she sat by Yellow's sleeping body with her back against a tree and allowed the darkness to take her away.

Cheese you promised me fluffy... you said you were capable and I get this in return?

How dare you hurt our girl!

Cyan honey noooo!!!!!

Someone help Yellow!!

I'm going to fight Brown and Green myself!

[currentlylurking]

Phic Phight: Good Parents

Maddie Fenton nearly kills her son trying to take down Phantom. Jack Fenton nearly kills him again, trying to tear the ghost from him.

Clockwork, one of the most powerful ghosts in existence, is tired of the people he cares about getting hurt.

(Based on a Phic Phight 2020 prompt by @five-rivers)

(WC: 2534)

Good Parents

At 10:13 am yesterday morning, Maddie Fenton had shot her son.

She hadn’t meant to – no. She had meant to. She had meant to shoot Danny Phantom.

She hadn’t known he was Danny Fenton. She hadn’t known. She never would have shot her son if she had known.

At 7:07 pm, after the secret had been spilled and the ectoranium bullet extracted, Danny had been tired. He’d been so tired. He’d promised he’d wanted to tell them since he became ‘half ghost’ when he was fourteen. He’d promised he loved them. Always had, always would.

Jack had promised that he always would, too. Then he put his son under anaesthetic and set out to remove that ectoplasmic mutation that had ruined Danny’s life.

At 7:47 pm, Danny’s heart had stopped. They got it started again and continued to work on removing the mutation.

At 7:59 pm, it happened again. And then the world froze.

It was a strange sensation. Neither of them could breathe or move their eyes, but Maddie and Jack were still very much alive. From the scowl on the face of the ghost that appeared in their lab, that had been intentional. Blue skin and a scarred red eye looked at them with absolute, utter disdain.

They would make note, later, that not everything had been frozen – their inner ears still registered vibrations, because they both clearly heard the ghost speak.

“How dare you?” it said.

And then it took their son and disappeared. It left them there, frozen, for hours.

But when they could move again, it was still only 7:59.

.-.

Maddie and Jack were good parents. They loved their kids. They provided for them. Of course they made mistakes – what parent hadn’t? What mattered was they tried.

Like any good parent, they’d do anything to protect their kids - even traverse the uncharted land of the dead. Their radar led them to crooked tower that looked long abandoned, with thorny brambles and ivy holding the door shut. They were no match for the Fenton Foamer, though.

Jack stomped on the dying remains of the ghost plants, which expressed ectoplasmic vibrations that sounded like a scream. They didn’t actually scream, of course: not only were they plants, but they were also ghosts. They couldn’t feel pain.

Maddie reached over to assist her husband as he wrapped his hands around the handle of an old iron door. “Jack, careful!” She said and stepped back as he yanked the handle off the door. It’d been rusted through. “Step back, I’ll handle this.” She balanced the bazooka on her shoulder.

The bazooka froze on her shoulder.

The island around them shifted and smeared, and when Maddie and Jack blinked, they were no longer outside – and they were no longer armed. They stood in a circular sitting room, in front of two tartan chairs. Huge brass bells hung from the ceiling, and a network of gears covered the only doorway. Their large weapons were gone, and in front of a huge mirror which took up the entire opposing wall, was the ghost who’d stolen their son.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t destroy my home,” it said.

“You!” Maddie screamed, and pulled a wrist ray from her jumpsuit. The ectoblast hit the ghost in the chest and it curled in on itself with a short gasp of pain.

Then it disappeared.

“I believe ‘don’t shoot your host’ is the first rule of being a good guest.” It was behind them now – Maddie and Jack turned slowly, and watched it fly over to the mirror. “Regardless, that was a duplicate. As am I. You’re only hurting yourselves if you insist on continuing this.”

“Where’s Danny?” Jack demanded.

“What have you done to our boy?” Maddie added. She kept her wristray trained on the ticking clock in the ghost’s torso.

“He’s asleep in his room,” the ghost said, and gestured to the mirror. The reflection faded to a green swirl, and a new vision appeared: Danny, in a warmly lit stone room, asleep on a sterile bed. Their incisions had been stitched up with bright blue sutures and bandaged with a translucent layer of ectoplasm. The ghost floated beside him. He brushed black hair from Danny’s face and replaced a damp cloth on his forehead.

“Let him go,” Maddie said, and fired a shot into the ghost’s back. It disappeared. The version on the other side of the mirror didn’t react. “Let him go! Who do you think you are?!”

The ghost returned, a scowl on it’s face. “I am Clockwork, the Master of Time, and Danny’s new guardian.”

Jack scoffed. “He’s our son!”

“Yes. And you nearly killed him.” Clockwork said. The scowl deepened, and the ghost bared fangs. “Several times over, you have almost killed your son. The accidents and unwitting attempts to kill you son by attacking his ghost half, I could excuse. He begged me to. He promised that if you knew the full consequences of your actions you would not hurt him.” It gestured sharply to the scene, and nearly smashed a fist into the mirror. “And you proved him wrong.” Clockwork took a sharp, growling breath in before it turned its back to Maddie and Jack. “He is not your son anymore.”

In the mirror, Danny stirred. His eyelids fluttered, and he squinted. “Clockwork?” His voice was so weak.

“I’m here, Danny,” both versions of Clockwork said, “I’m right here.”

Danny gave a soft groan, and he raised a shaking hand to his chest. He touched his stiches. Clockwork gently took his wrist and guided his hand away.

“They…” Danny’s voice cracked. “I told them, and they – they –”

“I know,” Clockwork whispered. “I’m sorry. We made a promise Danny, remember? Just for now.” The one on the other side of the mirror summoned a small glass with a straw. The one in front of Jack and Maddie summoned two paper cups.

“Yeah,” Danny whispered, and when Clockwork held the straw to his lips he took a long drink. The scene faded, and the mirror was a mirror once more.

The Clockwork in front of Maddie and Jack turned around – and took a shot to the core.

Another appeared in its place and caught the paper cups. “Within these cups is a Miamenso Draught. When you drink it, you will forget that you have a son. You will have no more than a passing familiarity with Danny – as he now has with you.”

“You drugged our son?!” Maddie shouted.

“We Fentons don’t take anything from ghosts!” Jack said at the same time. “You’ll have to force it down our –”

“Jack,” Maddie said. She shook her head. Jack shut his mouth.

“I won’t force anyone to do anything,” Clockwork said. “That is against my nature. And besides, I made a promise to Danny.” It waved a hand, and table appeared between the chairs Maddie and Jack had not sat in. The cups appeared on it a moment later. “I believe that everything should be a choice, and that everyone deserves a second chance. Even with all you have done, I will grant you that.”

Maddie scoffed. “You listen to me, you putrid manifestation of post human consciousness! You will not take my son from me! Give Danny back, right now, or –”

“Or you’ll shoot me again, I presume?” Clockwork said, deadpan. Maddie shot it.

A new Clockwork appeared a second later. Jack reached back, grabbed one of the cups, and flung the purple liquid in its face. It blinked, then turned intangible.

“I am a duplicate,” it said, and waved a hand at the puddle that had been left behind. It glowed blue. “I don’t have an individual mind to be altered. In addition, a Miamenso Draught must be consumed to be effective.” Telekinetically, the puddle was returned to the paper cup in Jack’s hand. “Would you like to assault me some more, or would you rather hear about how you can get your son back?”

Jack, slowly, lowered the cup. Maddie bit her lip. They both stayed silent.

“Very good.” Clockwork reached a hand back and brushed gloved fingertips against the mirror. The reflection shifted to a still of their lab. “These conditions were agreed upon ahead of time. You will be given a specific time frame to complete each one. If you complete them, then I will administer a Miakoro Draught and restore Danny’s memories. If you fail, or find that Danny’s conditions are too much to ask, then you must take the Miamenso. Understood?”

Maddie and Jack continued to stay silent.

Clockwork rolled its eyes. It continued, “The first condition: you must destroy every one of your ghost hunting weapons.”

“No.” Maddie said.

“Then take the Miamenso Draught and forget your son was ever born.” Clockwork snapped. It had to take a moment to regain its false composure. “You must destroy all blueprints and finished creations within your possession. The portal is exempt from this, as is your Spector Speeder, on the condition you can remove and destroy its weapon system. Nothing else is. You have until this Saturday at 2:13 pm exactly to do this and return here to inform me. Then you will learn of Danny’s next condition. Is that understood?”

“You won’t get away with this,” Maddie snapped.

“Danny’s a smart kid,” Jack added, “Just as smart as the rest of us! He’ll know something’s missing.”

“All the more reason to fulfil your end of this quickly,” Clockwork said. “Do you understand. Yes or no.”

Maddie glared.

Clockwork glared right back.

“Yes,” Jack said.

Maddie’s jaw dropped as she stared at her husband in utter disbelief.

“Good,” Clockwork said. “Now get out of my house.”      

Just as before, their vision twisted and smeared. Instead of the room, they were back outside, dying ectoplants under their boots. However, there was a deep groove in the island, and the tower was gone.

Maddie crossed her arms. “Jack, why did you agree to that?” She demanded. “We are not destroying our life’s work just because a ghost told us too! There has to be another way to get Danny back.”

“Maddie, no,” Jack said quickly. He had a devious grin – Maddie lowered her arms. “That ghost just said we had to get rid of the ones in our possession! We could go home, write up a fake bill of sale and give ‘em to Vladdie. He’ll give them back once this is all done!”

“Oh. Oh,” Maddie threw her arms around him, “Jack, you’re a genius! Come on, let’s go – the sooner we get our boy back, the sooner we can make sure this never happens again.”

.-.

Clockwork felt the duplicate disperse, and took a deep, calming breath in.

It didn’t help. He was still furious.

He looked down at the boy in front of him, sleeping once more. Danny had his face scrunched up in pain – as far as he knew, a Miamenso Draught was not a pleasant thing to drink. Thankfully, that was all theoretical, not practical knowledge. He had never had one himself.

He truly, genuinely wished, that he hadn’t had to give one to Danny.

Clockwork reached over and brushed a lock of hair from Danny’s face. The boy needed a haircut. Even with the longer hair framing his face a bit differently, it didn’t change the facts: Danny barely looked fourteen, let alone like the almost seventeen year old he should be. Clockwork wished he could just dismiss that as a coincidence, but he knew better than to put any stock in that. Danny was a child ghost, and when in unsafe environments, there were two paths child ghosts were likely to take. Either they aged in quick, sporadic bursts, or they simply didn’t age.

Danny, as much as Clockwork hated to admit it and Danny refused to, was very clearly the latter. By now, half his allies had likely told him the same thing, and offered him refuge. Danny would have turned them all down, as he had turned down Clockwork.

He had had so much faith in his parents, and how they’d love him no matter what. While Clockwork had seen the Timelines where the reveal had gone this bad, Danny’s conviction had been infectious. He loved his parents. He wouldn’t tolerate anyone else insulting them, as true as the insults may be.

And he had not set any real conditions in the event that this exact thing happened. He had not believed that Maddie and Jack would ever hurt Phantom if they knew he was a Fenton. His sister had begged Danny to come up with at least a vague suggestion for what their parents would have to do, and Danny had refused.

Clockwork sighed once again, and finally lowered his hand. He’d contacted Jasmine, and she, Sam, and Tucker were on their way – in the meantime, Jasmine put the decision of what Maddie and Jack would have to do to get their son back in his hands. He had some ideas, but he could see the timeline unfolding in front of him. He would not let these willful child murderers twist his intentions to their benefit. Their next challenge would be to swear off ghost hunting permanently. Danny would not be returning to a house filled with weapons. After that, perhaps they could spend some time getting to know their son’s allies. If they even made it that far.

Beside him, Danny stirred, and Clockwork immediately refocused on him. It should have taken another hour for the Miamenso Draught to take effect – but, of course, hybrid biology appeared to complicate things once again. He settled down at the edge of Danny’s bed.

“Danny?” He asked gently, “Can you hear me?”

Danny groaned, and he slowly forced his eyes open. He closed them again a second later. “Ugh. Dad, what happened?”

Clockwork’s core heaved. He glanced back for any hint of orange that could be confusing the boy – there were none. Only the muted purples and dark blues of his tower.

When he looked back, Danny was trying to sit up. “Please don’t do that,” Clockwork said, and softly pressed Danny back to the bed. “How do you feel?”

“Bad,” Danny said. Clockwork smiled. “It feels like I swallowed a bunch of sand.”

“Would you like some water?” Clockwork asked, and removed the damp cloth. It had bits of frost on the edges – finally, a good sign.

Danny nodded. Then he closed his eyes and winced in pain. “Yeah,” he whispered, “yeah. Thanks, Dad.”

Clockwork kept his face carefully neutral. “You’re welcome.”

“Love you.”

“…I love you, too.”

Clockwork turned, left, and let the emotionless mask drop. A Miamenso Draught did not create new memories – but the mind was a tenacious thing, and it would fill in the blanks left with whatever made sense. For this to be happening now – for Danny’s unconscious mind to decide that Clockwork was his father – Danny had to have felt this way for a long time. Clockwork knew the boy liked him, and he certainly cared about Danny in turn, but this…

He felt ashamed to say that it made him happier than he’d been in a long, long time.

***

Mia Menso: My Mind in Esperanto Mia Koro: My Heart in Esperanto

Actual prompt: Clockwork gets sick of how Jack and Maddie treat Danny and spirits him away.  Jack and Maddie have to prove to Clockwork that they'll do better by completing his challenges.  Whether or not they succeed is up to you.  (Bonus: Clockwork does something to Danny so he no longer recognizes Jack and Maddie when he sees them in order to make sure Jack and Maddie have to follow through.)

This could’ve been a full-fledged fic so easily y’all have NO idea. I have a plot for it and everything. Send help.

[shinydelirium]

MLQC Season 2 Chapter 12 (Kiro) Part 7 [Duplicity] Translation [CN]

***SPOILERS*** THIS POST CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS FOR CONTENT NOT YET RELEASED ON EN SERVER!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!***

For previous translations of Season 2 Chapter 12: Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6

Enjoy~

[Duplicity]

As I walked through the quiet forest located on the outskirts of Loveland City, I felt goosebumps along my skin—

After all, an actual, cruel battle and murder happened here.

Zehn: Boss, I have confirmed that this place is just an ordinary forest now.

MC: Did you find anything else?

Zehn: There was a big fire here before, burning a large area without leaving any useful clues.

Zehn: However, it was precisely because of this fire that the entire forest was temporarily sealed off. Apart from a few forest rangers, there were no suspicious people.

MC: Ok, you wait outside. I’ll call if I need you.***Changed some wording***

After confirming with Zehn, I hung up the phone.

I remembered that Kiro unlocked the dilapidated building that was secured with infrared rays and began to head in that direction according to my memory.

The leaves gently swayed in the wind. The sunlight came through and the air was faintly filled with a burning scent that had not yet dissipated. The whole forest was eerie and silent.

There were traces of fire erosion everywhere. I walked along the forest path and couldn’t even find the tree hole where Kiro and I took shelter in.

Like everything else that has happened in the past, it can easily be wiped cleaned by the world. ***Changed some wording***

There is nothing else that can be done except to use my memory to push forward with resolution.

I sighed and continued to search for that building. Soon, after walking through a bush, I found it.

MC: …Hold on a second. There won’t be any of those infrared rays here, right?

Thinking about this, I carefully threw a stone and nothing happened.

I stepped across a damaged stone slab and finally came to this dilapidated building.

Upon my inspection, there is a broken stone slate with a figure covered in thorns faintly painted on it.

I looked back in the direction I came from and retraced my steps, afraid that I might have missed some small symbols. ***Changed some wording***

MC: Found it!

In one corner, I finally saw that the figure covered with thorns was exactly the same as the one Shaw showed me.

MC: What does this mean?

Shaw said it was related to a certain ruin but it appeared in the hunter game again.

I stood up and stepped into the building. Inside, an entire beam had collapsed. After years of wear and tear, it was even covered with moss.

It looked like any ordinary small building that was abandoned.

MC: It doesn’t seem like there are any ruins….

I knocked on the wall and it didn’t sound like there was a mechanism inside.

MC: Is it just a coincidence?

I went back to the stone slab with the thorns symbol and casually touched it.

Suddenly, the thorns on the symbol seemed to be moving. They quickly grew out of the stone slab and struck my palm.

MC: !

What kind of slate is this?! How can things grow out like that?!

The lit-up slate didn’t give me any time to recover from my surprise. The bright green light surging along the graph seemed to be reading something.

??: Identity….confirmed…

There was a faint vibration under my feet, and the sound of gears turned slowly.

When the bright green light covered the entire figure, a line of the same color traversed my foot and became thicker.

I wanted to observe the stone slab more carefully but I suddenly felt nothing underneath my feet. Then, a huge sense of weightlessness hit my face.

The rapid fall continued to pull me downwards. The sound of gears creaked as they turned and I watched the light above my head slowly be covered by the slate.

At the moment when the light was about to be completely gone, a distinct silver light shot towards me.

Like a lone star in the distant desolate night, it’s the only thing that illuminates the entire night sky.

In the next second, I was forcefully being lifted into a pair of strong arms. They were a little rough but I couldn’t stop shaking.

I couldn’t help but want to cry.

The hook thrown by the visitor stabbed straight into the crevice of the stone. With a powerful yank, the two of us were thrown over and we fell in a heap onto a transparent step.

Helios: Do you want to die like that?!

I stared blankly at Helios, whose eyes were full of anger. Because of the shock just now, his whole body was tense and his hair was all frizzy. He looked very wolfish.

He’s here. He appeared in front of me again just like in the last hunter game.

Thinking about this, I couldn’t help laughing.

Helios: What a pain. ***Changed some wording***

MC: Helios, why are you here?

I was too lazy to care about him as I gripped his arm that was about to move, tilted my head and looked at him.

Helios: Just passing by. ***Mm-hmm...sure, you were “just passing by”...I know what’s up, lol***

MC: In a place like this?

Helios: So what?

MC: Then why did you save me just now?

Helios: You needed it.

I stared down at his arm that had a faint red mark from the tight rope and looked back to his eyes.

Helios: Let go if you’re done asking questions. ***Me: Why are you so gorgeously beautiful?***

Coming back to my senses, I released my hands and let Helios withdraw his arm.

When I opened my hand, there was a slight tingling pain on my palm. I remembered the strange thorny slab just now.

I looked at the blood stain on my hand, not knowing why.

At this moment, a white handkerchief was impatiently shoved into my other hand.

When I looked up, Helios had already stepped away.

Helios: It’ll become an eyesore. ***He might come off as rude and mean when he talks but his actions speak otherwise....I LOVE HIM!!!***

I looked at the handkerchief, then at Helios who was walking away. Trying to suppress my smile, I wrapped up the wound and ran to him.

MC: Helios, what are you wearing in your ears? New earphones? ***MC, please don’t be nosy...now’s not the time***

Helios: It has nothing to do with you. 

He stared straight ahead without looking at me. Trying to find something to do, my eyes darted around. ***Changed some wording***

Only then did I get a chance to take a good look at this strange place.

Transparent white steps glowed faintly. They continued to spiral downwards, not knowing where they led to.

Under this forest, there is still such an enormous and mysterious place.

On the dusty walls, occasionally a bright green light would flash by like arcs of cryptic electronic codes.

MC: Helios, do you know where we are?

Helios: Don’t know.

MC: Then you should know what this electronic code signal on the wall is, right?

MC: See, it’s the one that just passed by.

Helios: What are you trying to say?

MC: What do you think it is?

Helios: Don’t know.

MC: …..

I lowered my head and walked behind him, trying to control my facial expression. I took a few deep breaths to keep myself from getting angry because of his attitude.

In addition to being angry, I was more aggrieved.

It’s not that I’ve never seen Helios with such a bad temper. I was concerned about Kiro and I tried my best to cooperate with him.

But this repeated hot and cold behavior still hurts me a lot.

The way Kiro smiles at me every time appeared before my eyes. The way he stands firmly in front of me if I’ve been wronged. ***Changed some wording***

In the case of Kiro’s words….

I looked up at Helio’s cold back and blinked slowly.

MC: It’s not like I asked you to come…

MC: You didn’t have to come if you didn’t want to and I didn’t ask you to save me.

I muttered in a loud voice. The more I thought about it, the more uncomfortable I felt. Finally, I stopped where I was, not wanting to pay any attention to the person who only talked back with biting words.

Heavy footsteps came from a distance and stopped before me.

Helios: What do you want to do?

MC: Helios, you go on ahead by yourself and leave me behind.

My eyes shifted from is mocking face to the toe of my shoe.

Helios: Do you think I want to control?

MC: Helios, I’ll get injured too. Since you don’t want to control, then go by yourself. I will handle my business on my own.

MC: Thank you for saving me just now. I’ll repay you next time.

I calmly said everything word for word and firmly looked into his eyes.

Helios: Silly. ***T/N: “愚蠢” (yúchǔn) also means “fool” so it can be used interchangeably***

He sneered and actually walked away from me. Each step was hard and heavy with an air of stubbornness.

Hearing his footsteps going further and further away, I stood still and sighed, spitting out “Kiro” again and again in my heart, while thinking about what to do next.

But soon, those same footsteps returned, and I felt my arm being pulled hard and my whole body lurched forward.

MC: You, what are you doing?

Helio: Come on.

MC: Didn’t I say to go by yourself?! I won’t stop you either, so….

Helios: Be quiet.

He leaned his face closer to me. Anger was mixed in those blue eyes which were usually calm.

He grabbed my hand and walked down the steps without saying a word.

Seeing Helios like this, a little flag of victory was secretly erected in my heart. ***Lmao!!!***

MC: Since you “must” take me with you and for the convenience of me to understand your thoughts better—

MC: I suggest you speak more than three words and be gentle…hey!

He deliberately pulled me and I almost fell to the ground.

Helios: You’re being too noisy.

MC: You said four words so that means you’ve accepted my suggestion. 

A mocking look appeared on his face again but there was a hint of complex emotion in his eyes.

Helios: You really don’t know when to give up.

MC: Then you’re wrong. I’m actually someone who gives up easily.

MC: It just depends on what it is.

I smiled and looked at Helios. His pupils contracted for a moment and then he looked away.

Helios: So talkative.

MC: You only said two words. ***OMG, I can’t....lmfao***

I followed him with a grin on my face. A mysterious and white glow wrapped around us, but I didn’t feel any fear—

Probably because Kiro is by my side.

MC: Helios, do you think there’s no end to these stairs? Like those space-loops you see in the movies?

MC: What if we can’t get out?

Helios: Doesn’t matter. Before we get out, I’ll be annoyed to death by you first.

MC: After giving it some thought, your attitude is very bad.

Helios: Then don’t talk to me. ***Can’t help but agree with him XD***

MC: But you haven’t answered my question…

Helios: See for yourself.

I followed his gaze and looked down. As expected, a grayish light was faintly visible at the end of the steps.

A bright green light slid across the wall like plankton and the sound of huge gears came from below.

??: Lighthouse visitor language….analysis complete….

??: Synchronized.

A light electronic sound came softly as if in welcome.

-End of Part 7-

***Sorry but not sorry for all the many screenshots. The banter between Helios and MC is just pure gold and I had to include their facial expressions XD. Besides that, things are finally gonna get interesting from here on.***

[vixenpen]

Caged Hearts

Chap 26. Captured (we almost at the end omg)

((Hawks x Miku ((OC))

OK so I realize that a lot of you guys are missing parts of this fic and that’s because I have ADD and I ended up losing my count a couple of times and I’m pretty sure that I numbered the chapters wrong so I’ve been trying to go through and correctly number the chapters and link off to the next chapter in each previous part. So bear with me because that is a lot for my ADD brain to handle. But OMG GUYS WE ARE ALMOST AT THE END!!!

(Trigger warnings: restraints, non con touching, r*pe implications)

The surrounding forest was burning. The only reason the fire was contained as much as it was, was thanks to the abundance of water quirk users on the heroes side.

They kept the fire wielders at bay which allowed Keigo the room to slice and fly through the chaos and into the old temple.

Compared to the chaos in the surrounding forest, the inside of the rotting old temple was eerily still and quiet. It was massive with sagging tatami flooring and battery powered lamps. But at the center of it all was Dabi.

He stood cross armed in the middle of the messy temple.

“Hey hero. How’s that scar?”

“Ugly and annoying, but mostly forgettable after the ointment. Just like you.”

Dabi’s smirk widened.

“You’re as pleasant as ever, Hawks.”

At the sound of his hero name coming from Dabi’s mouth, Keigo’s lips twitched down and he softened his grip on his feather blade slightly.

“I wouldn’t let my guard down if I were you.”

“Oh trust me, I’m not. Unlike you, I don’t do half baked schemes. So what exactly was the plan, Dabs?” Keigo asked, drawing closer to his villainous ex. “You revive the nomu project and try to pick up where smarter more capable villains than you like Shigaraki and Stain left off?”

A deep scowl replaced Dabi’s smirk.

“I have more vision than both of them, asshole. Just because I don’t have half the resources they had—“

“Half?” Keigo let out an incredulous laugh. “Dabi, you don’t even have a quarter teaspoon of the resources or the vision that they had. You’ve been running around causing chaos with these under powered lackeys of yours while prancing around like the queen of England Letting everyone else do your dirty work. You’re a nuisance at best and a busy day at worse, but you are no Shigaraki and certainly no Stain.”

“Fuck you talk to much,” Dabi growled, his face was pinched in anger. “If you’re gonna do something then do it, hero.”

Keigo smirked. “Why don’t you make me Dabi? I’ll even give you a head start.”

Dabi planted his feet, but hesitated to do anything.

Keigo scoffed. In a blur of red, Keigo had the man pinned to the floor with his arms twisted behind his back.

“So that copycat quirk of yours can’t duplicate other people’s quirks, huh, Chiba Chidori?”

“You’re good.” Chiba chuckled as he struggled in Keigo’s grip.

“You’re obvious. Just like your leader.” Keigo shot back. “Now where’s Dabi?”

Chiba still in his Dabi disguise tilted his head against the dirty tatami flooring to face Keigo.

“Wherever your little girlfriend is.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cold metal cuffs kept Miku’s arms suspended above her.

Despite the heaviness in her head, her mind was still spinning. She blinked against the colored spots in her black vision until slowly, it sharpened.

The room was cold and dimly lit. Nothing but a dirty lightbulb swinging from the ceiling to illuminate a concrete floor.

The exposed skin of her arms and legs were pressed to a frigid stone wall. She couldn’t even attempt to move her wings.

Anxiety and dread swallowed Miku whole. Her legs felt gelatinous.

She clenched and unclenched her fingers as she forced herself to breathe deeply through her nose. More details about the room swam into her vision.

There was a cell that she thankfully wasn’t inside of and a set of concrete stairs with a heavy looking metal door at the end of them.

Fuck! Fuck, fuck!

Miku glanced up at her wrists and blinked back the tears stinging the corners of her eyes. She rattled the chains futilely.

Just then, the metal door swung open with a loud bang. Dabi’s tall, slender silhouette stood in the spill of light pouring into the room.

“Ah. So Sleeping beauty’s finally awake, is she?” He drawled, slowly descending the stairs.

“What do you want?” Miku hissed back at him, tugging against her restraints.

Dabi didn’t reply as he advanced on Miku slowly until his chest was pressed against hers. She could smell the stench of tobacco on him, and turned away in disgust.

“Relax, Angel Face,” Dabi chuckled, snatching her chin until she was facing him again, “this’ll be a lot easier for you if you do.”

Then he dropped to his knees before her.

“W-what are you doing?”

“Gotta Pat you down, Hummingbird,” Dabi explained with a lazy smirk up at her. “I’m sure your man is trying to keep tabs on you. Just a matter of finding the feather.”

His hands were warm causing goosebumps to rise on her skin as they trailed up her calves and between her thighs. Dabi stopped his touch just as his index finger brushed across the slit of her sex.

He repeated the action along her other leg letting his hands linger on her thighs and heating them slowly.

“Stop.” Miku whimpered.

His laugh was taunting as His hands worked the short dress up Miku’s thick hips.

“Not done yet, sweetheart.” His smile widened. “Ooh I see those pretty wings of yours flexing. Too bad, baby, those are quirk repressing cuffs.” He bit his lip as he eyed the trail of trimmed white pubic hair before him.

Standing to his feet, the man snatched the top of her dress down.

“Nothing here, either hm?” He squeezed her big breasts harshly.

A choked yelp escaped Miku’s mouth.

“Damn, Angel Face,” Dabi grinned, it was sinister and probing, and somehow felt even more invasive than his wandering hands. “Maybe I should do a cavity search. Hm? Gotta say, I like feisty types like you. So much more fun to break.”

She could only respond with Shallow, shaky breaths.

She couldn’t move.

She couldn’t fight.

She couldn’t fly!

Just as she felt her fluttering heart about to give out on her, the anklet she wore broke. He heart shaped charm attached, clattered to the floor as large shadowy tendrils manifested from it.

Miku blinked, dazed as she watched the pair of smoky, phantom like limbs snatch Dabi’s lanky body up like a rag doll.

The ghostly hands wrapped around his body easily and slammed him into the stone wall, just beside Miku. The woman shrieked as the impact of his head colliding into the wall echoed in the dank room.

Dabi slid to the floor unconscious and crumpled at her feet.

“Boss!”

She looked up at the stairs not recognizing the dark haired teen in the doorway. He looked like a mini Dabi with his piercings and black mop of hair.

His dark eyes widened at the sight of his boss and the shadow hands.

“What the—“

The large tendrils snatched him up too. In a fast, fluid motion, they knocked the teen unconscious as well.

And just as quickly as they appeared, they disappeared.

It took Miku a moment to process what had just happened. Konan’s protection charm. It had bought her some time.

Her captors were now sprawled unconscious at her feet, and a set of keys were attached to Dabi’s belt.

Miku was running blind through the halls of what she now realized was a lab of some sort. Fluorescent lighting lit up the cold, sterile floors. Medical rooms filled with machines, devices, and tanks could be seen through the glass panels.

She had no idea how long Dabi and his sidekick would be knocked out nor how long that locked metal door would hold them, but she wanted to put as much space between herself and them as possible.

As she ran through the labyrinth like halls, she pulled off her remaining shoe—the other had been ditched in the basement with Dabi—and pulled out the now sticky and ruffled red feather. She ran her fingers along the barbs and held it up to her lips.

“Keigo,” she huffed rounding the corners of the hallways, “Kei, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I really need you right now. Dabi’s got me at some...fucking...fuck.” She looked around the long halls and maze of locked metal doors, in a panic. “Underground lab or...I don’t know. I...just—Please, please come quick.”

With that final plea, she snapped the feather in two.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The distressed vibrations of Miku’s voice hummed through Keigo’s feathers. There was over 500 miles between them, but he could parse out the unique cadence of her voice easily.

Konan’s voice crackled through his headphones, her voice just barely cutting through the whistling wind.

“Keigo!” The Latina’s voice exclaimed.

“I’m here, Ko,” he pressed the headphone harder against his ear, trying to hear her better. “You got a read on Miku?”

“When her charm broke my signal showed that she’s at some location underground. On the far outskirts of Tokyo.”

Konan rattled off the coordinates, but Keigo didn’t recognize the location. Regardless, he pushed himself to fly harder.

“I should be there is less than fifteen minutes,” Konan explained, “you?”

“If I book it any harder maybe twenty or less. Ko, do everything to keep her safe.”

“No doubt. Over and out.”

The line went dead. Keigo couldn’t breathe.

The entire world blurred before his eyes.

This was his fault. Miku shouldn’t be in this situation.

His mistakes. His fuck ups. His negligence.

It was going to get someone he loved—

Fuck!

His speed tripled.

He was going to kill that son of a bitch. Fuck Tartarus. Fuck detaining. Fuck his years of training. Todoroki Touya was going to die today.

[pippki-writes]

Nessun Uomo è un’Isola

It started with the shadows. When he wasn’t looking at them, he would swear they had moved in the sentient sort of ways shadows had no right to. Or they would dart with furtive purpose just beyond his vision, but whenever Oriano would look, nothing would be there. The shadows would move gently, normally, the lights of the paths peacefully mixed around by the rustling leaves.

Paolo would have told him he was just being paranoid, but Oriano couldn’t bring himself to mention it. Even if the carbonieri did not come to their little island to enforce the quarantine, the handful of them still left on San Servolo took the duty seriously. Paolo and Oriano were the only ones staying in their particular dormitory building, on opposite ends, and every evening before and after Luca dropped off their dinners they would hang out of their windows over the lagoon and shout conversation from one side of the building to the other. It just didn’t seem like the place to mention passing worries over shadows, when there were so many more important things to worry about.

“What do we do if the supply boat doesn’t come?” asked Oriano.

“You worry too much,” said Paolo. “There’s always the vaporetto. Good old number 20 would never abandon us here. But even if the groceries didn’t come, and the devil himself stole our vaporetto line, look—” he pointed south and east, where the long inhabited sandbar of the Lido stretched across the lagoon, framing their view from the southwest corner of the island. “We could easily swim over. If you’re not afraid of a little lagoon water.”

“Nah,” replied Oriano, “it’s the shit swimming in the water that worries me.” But Paolo had a point, and he would know—Paolo was in his 30s, and had lived in Venice his whole life. If he said the vaporetto wouldn’t leave them cut off, then Oriano trusted that he could always find his way off the island if needed. Not that he had somewhere better to be. Oriano was only 19, with no family or home to go back to in America. When the classrooms had closed, and all the foreign students had gone back to their countries, their barista Oriano had stayed.

“We would find a way off,” said Paolo. As the handyman of the island, Paolo felt certain he could put together something that would float the short distance between the closest corner of San Servolo and the Lido. Wouldn’t even be a full kilometer, and the lagoon? Not even that deep, for the most part. Could probably push along the bottom with a broom. He lapsed into silence, wondering what materials on the island might float and not be too culturally damaging if taken for such a purpose, while Oriano stared across the lagoon at the sunset. Like nearly every other sunset since he had come to San Servolo some six months prior, the riot of clouds and color was one of the most beautiful sunsets he had ever seen.

In the mornings, Oriano made cappuccinos. The cafe and the kitchen were in separate buildings, so it felt safe, while Luca made breakfasts, for Oriano to make some halfway decent coffees to go with it. Luca would leave Oriano’s breakfast waiting in the cafe, and Oriano would leave Luca’s cappuccino on the little table outside the kitchen, and as they distributed caffeine and nutrients they managed like ghost ships passing in the night not to come across one another. Oriano wore his mask while he made the cappuccinos, and washed his hands at least twice more than he thought was necessary. Disposable cups. Disposable food-handling gloves. Disinfect everything, especially the outside of the bags that everything came in, even the bag of espresso beans, unloaded by Luca and Chiara from the supply boat each week. As long as the supplies lasted, Oriano would keep up this routine. It gave him something to do.

He left the last cappuccinos of the morning on the little table outside the housekeepers’ building and went back to his room. His room, like Paolo’s, had been designed to serve as student housing—the atmosphere was sparse, utilitarian, and duplicated. Two each of small beds, desks, nightstands, and uncomfortable chairs on the easy-to-clean stone floor. One bathroom with sink, mirror, shower, toilet, and bidet—that had been amusing. Oriano hadn’t known what the bidet was for, and had used it to hold a muddy pair of work boots until he could clean them, but Paolo had seen them there first, and gave him no end of good-natured shit for it. Oriano did not put boots in the bidet anymore.

There was also a TV—ancient and pointless, picking up only a few channels filled with convoluted daytime Italian soap operas too rapid fire for Oriano to keep up with. The only thing Oriano really cared about in his room was the window. The first day he’d settled into the room he had hated it. Even by himself in the room, it was small and cramped, and the operation of the air conditioning was beyond him. But as soon as he threw open the window, he realized why the room was worth keeping—unlike the other dormitory, the housekeepers’ building, and the administrators’ rooms, all the rooms in this building were directly on the lagoon. It was a straight drop down from Oriano’s second story window to the blue-green water below, facing almost directly into the unbelievable beauty of the setting sun. Back when the tour boats were still running, they passed close enough that Oriano could easily hear them talking about San Servolo— “It started as a Benedictine monastery” —and he would lean out the window to give a small wave, watching as dozens of people waved enthusiastically back.

He missed them.

They took turns spending time outside on the island. No one would have come to police them, but it seemed like the right thing to do, minimizing contact as much as they could.

Since he got to spend the morning walking back and forth all over the island from the cafe, Oriano took his turn after the sun had set. San Servolo was not a big island—a bit wider than the length of a football field, and not even a quarter mile long, but the trees throughout had a way of making it feel bigger than it really was. He appreciated the trees for that.

As he walked toward the front of the island, he thought about something Paolo had said in their conversation that night. People were claiming they were seeing more dolphins returning to the lagoon, swimming through the canals of Venice. Was it true? What else might be returning?

This was when Oriano began to hear the sounds.

At first, it sounded like water. Hearing water was not unusual—he was surrounded by water, the sounds of the tides gently lapping against the brick walls of San Servolo had become the serene backdrop to his everyday life. But this was different. Extra. More. It sounded like someone had recorded the sound of water and was playing it back ever so slightly wrong, from somewhere above. Oriano looked around, straining to hear. It sounded like it was coming from the small square tower by the library. Oriano took a few steps in the direction of the tower—the wrong sound of water playing was definitely louder—and he thought he saw a flicker of movement, of light shifting into shadow, through one of the arched openings in the tower. He wanted to go get Paolo, but his curiosity got the better of him.

Oriano took the stairs on the back side of the tower up to the second floor. To the right was the door to the library. To the left, an open arched path looking out and leading to the tower. Oriano willed his feet to be as quiet as possible as he approached the open room of the tower, the sound of water growing louder, his heart racing with the unknown of what he might find. He turned the corner into the room and found...nothing. The lights that illuminated the paths below reflected orange shapes around the room, through the leaves of the trees and the open stone arches of the tower. The peculiar quality of the sound of water had fallen away, and all he could hear was the waves of the tide slapping the bricks just as they always did.

“Which island is that?” asked Oriano, pointing to the forested island due west that was preparing to hide away the setting sun.

“La Grazia,” said Paolo. “Made from medieval trash, basically. Once was a convent, turned into a gunpowder storage that blew up in the middle of the 1800s. Spent time as an infectious diseases hospital until...late 20th century? Before I was born anyway.”

“Hm.” Oriano wondered what kind of creatures inhabited the abandoned islands around them. San Servolo was home to five domestic cats (three of whom looked exactly the same), and whatever manner of birds and lizards those five cats had not yet killed. “That one?” he asked, pointing to the next island south of La Grazia.

“San Clemente. Like us, another insane asylum. My own nonna still says ‘going to San Clemente’ for people going crazy. Also like us, spent time as a monastery and a military property. I think San Clemente was a garrison, ours was a hospital. At any rate, now it’s a hotel.”

“Do you think it’s haunted?”

“I hope so. Rich bastards. If they can afford to stay there, they deserve to be haunted.”

“What about here?” asked Oriano cautiously. “Is our island haunted?”

Paolo paused for a moment and rubbed his chin. “Haunted?” he asked thoughtfully. “Well...we certainly have history. But if you want haunted, either Lazzaretto Vecchio over there—” he leaned far out of his window, pointing left to the island they could just barely see to the southeast “—or the infamous Poveglia there—” he pointed straight ahead, to a forested island with a single bell tower rising above the treeline “—those two are your best bet. Lazzaretto Vecchio is small, but they’ve found over fifteen hundred bodies buried there so far. It was Venice’s first quarantine island for the plagues. And Poveglia...it was an insane asylum too, but they say one of its doctors brutally tortured, killed, and mutilated his patients there. Who knows how many. See the bell tower? They say the doctor fell from it to his death. Or was pushed. Or jumped, gone mad himself.” Paolo shrugged, all possibilities equally valid for haunting. “And Poveglia was a plague island too, before it was an asylum.”

“Was every island a plague island?”

“Not every island,” replied Paolo, patting the windowsill. “Ours wasn’t. But there is a lot of common, repeated, and violent history shared among these islands.”

Oriano nodded, watching the sun slip behind the trees of Isola della Grazia, leaving the sky a bruised and angry pink.

For that night’s walk, Oriano decided to simply sit at the end of the wooden dock that the supply boat used, listening to the waves. He squinted, trying to block out the lights of the channel markers to make out the shapes of the trees across the water. The abandoned islands were low, dark anomalies rising slightly from the water against the sky, hidden beyond the reach of the channel marker lights. The inhabited islands nearby were comforting—the constellation marks of civilization and electricity strung along the Lido meant people were there, even if he couldn’t see them. The darkness of the likes of Poveglia and La Grazia gave him an uneasy feeling of ignorance.

If he could just go to those islands, to know what was there and see for himself, then maybe he wouldn’t feel this way. No, that wasn’t true. He felt like he had walked over every inch of San Servolo now, and still he could sense secrets hiding in the trees, in the shadows between the lighted paths.

He wondered what kind of trees grew in the soils of such twisted histories.

He ignored the sounds that night—this time, from across the water in the directions of unlit darkness, he could hear the sound of singing, the feeling an anxious emotion, sounds and lyrics in a language Oriano didn’t recognize. The hair stood up on the back of his neck, and Oriano hurried back to his room, pretending he had not heard anything.

In the morning, there was no breakfast waiting for Oriano in the cafe.

Oriano ran over to the kitchen, but Luca wasn’t there. Luca stayed in the housekeepers’ building on the back of the island, and Oriano ran down to it, past the dormitories and lovely old clusters of trees, past the cats doing their morning stretches.

“Shit,” said Oriano, skidding into the locked door of the building. He didn’t know which room was Luca’s. His mask was back in the cafe. He started pounding on the main door.

“Luca? Luca??” he yelled, trying to see in the ground floor windows, alternating between beating on the door and rapping his knuckles on the windows.

On the second floor, a window scraped open. Oriano stopped and stood back to look up as Chiara poked her head out.

“Oriano? Is everything okay?”

“Luca wasn’t in the kitchen this morning. I’m—is he—can you check on him?”

Chiara quickly ducked back in her room. A couple other windows opened as the others staying in the building looked out to see what the commotion was. Oriano could hear Chiara beating on another door inside, and breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Luca’s familiar baritone shout “Oh dio mio!”

Everything would be okay.

He let their distant conversation in Italian wash over him. Sounded like Luca had overslept, which wasn’t like him but honestly, time had long since lost all meaning here. It was understandable.

And then Oriano heard Luca cough.

Was it a cough? Was Oriano the only one who had gasped when they heard it?

There are so many reasons for a cough. Did Luca smoke? Was it pollen season? Did San Servolo even have a pollen season? Surely it must, with all these rare plants and trees. Oriano’s heart started racing with his thoughts. Chiara leaned back out of her own window.

“Oriano, do you think you could do breakfast today?”

Oriano ruined about half a dozen pancakes before he decided the day’s breakfast would be cereal.

Paolo distributed dinner that evening. He found deep in the freezer something resembling an Italian riff on a Hot Pocket, in sufficient quantity to feed everyone, and most importantly they were very difficult to ruin. It was the sort of culinary monstrosity that would have brought great shame on his family if they knew of it, but they tasted okay and required no thought on his part to make happen.

Oriano waited until Paolo was back in his own room before he brought his dinner in, leaning on the windowsill while he ate. The sun had already set, but Oriano did not feel like walking the island.

“I’m worried about Luca,” said Oriano, almost too quietly for Paolo to hear.

“I’ve known Luca for almost twelve years,” said Paolo, waving his hand with dismissive confidence. “Luca’s fine.”

Oriano brushed the crumbs from his hands into the water and looked up. “What is that?” gasped Oriano. From the darkness to the south and west, steaming white clouds on the water seemed to be pressing toward them. Already the view was getting hazy, a chill threading through the air.

Paolo laughed. “It’s just the fog, Oriano. La nebbia. You really worry too much.” Paolo sighed. “Get some rest, okay?”

Oriano nodded, but he knew he would not be sleeping.

After some debate in the group text the next morning, Paolo volunteered to take over kitchen duties. He wasn’t exceptionally skilled at cooking, but he and Oriano were better isolated than everyone else. And everyone wanted Oriano to keep making coffee for their breakfasts.

Oriano walked to the cafe in the front corner of the island. Paolo had found a supply of Pop Tarts that had been imported for the American students, and Oriano’s allotment of cold breakfast pastry sat outside the cafe on the little table.

Luca was fine.

This was just a precaution.

Oriano ate absentmindedly, looking out over the grounds of San Servolo, toward the kitchen, the housekeepers’ building, the trees, Luca. The fog had come in overnight, putting a sullen grey haze over everything. When he looked out over the water, he could not see the other islands nearby, but at least he could see through the fog well enough on San Servolo. Oriano knelt down as the sweet grey cat of the island approached him outside the cafe, meowing patiently for some of his food.

“You won’t like it,” he warned her, breaking off a small corner and setting it on the ground.

Principessa sniffed the fragment disdainfully, gave a disgruntled meow, and walked off. Crumbs for the birds, then.

Oriano went into the cafe and turned on the espresso machine, waiting for it to warm up. Luca had texted the group to tell them he felt fine and not to worry. But what would they even do if he wasn’t fine? Being isolated on this island had felt like its own form of protection, an insulation from the chaotic news reports Oriano spent too much time looking at late into the night on his phone. But they weren’t protected at all. They were trapped like everyone else.

Oriano made his rounds, dropping off cappuccinos, and stopped by the brick walls to gaze out the iron-grated openings. He could hear the water, gently tapping the confines of the island, but the unseen haze of the lagoon felt unnaturally quiet.

There wasn’t much to look at out the window that night. The fog was thicker now, and Oriano couldn’t see the channel markers only a few hundred feet from where he leaned against the windowsill, balancing a paper plate full of pasta.

“Not spaghetti,” said Paolo emphatically, “Bigoli in salsa, a Venetian classic. Granted, this particular sauce was frozen and reconstituted and not handmade by my grandmother, but I think it defrosted quite nicely, and even I can cook pasta.” Paolo finished off his helping, gently tossing his plate into the trash. “Though I don’t know what we’ll do when the frozen food runs out. If I have to actually learn cooking rules, we might starve.”

“I’ll swim for the Lido before it comes to that.”

“Hopefully Chiara ordered sensible, idiot-proof groceries.”

Hopefully Luca will be back to making the food soon, Oriano thought. But he didn’t want to say it, because saying it admitted the possibility that things could turn out differently. Better not to say anything at all than to speak bad realities into existence.

For a while, they sat in silence, looking out into the quiet nothingness of the fog on the lagoon.

“Quarantine,” said Paolo finally. “It’s an Italian word, you know, quaranta giorni, forty days. That’s how long people coming into Venice from plague infected places had to wait before they could actually come into the city. Waiting out on these islands.”

“Do you think we’ll be holed up forty days?”

“Forty days, and forty nights, and who really knows if the end of it will ever come?”

Even though the fog was thick, Oriano decided to take a walk after dinner. He could still see at least a hundred feet in front of him, and that was good enough. What did the sailors and merchants do, hundreds of years ago, waiting forty days to see if it was safe for them to make their way into Venice? Did they worry? About themselves? About their friends?

Did they walk around as he did now, thinking about the trapped souls quarantined before them?

The fog felt like a blanket as Oriano walked. When the nights were clear, Oriano always had a sense of his place on this little rectangle of land in the whims of the tides, but as the fog drew close, he felt only the island, stretching into infinite unknown possibilities.

Walking along thus lost in his thoughts, Oriano almost didn’t notice a pair of boots sitting beneath a tree, nor did he fully process the way the fog moved strangely from the branches, curling into patterns, like a canopy of lace hanging down and around the boots, a curtain of uncertain purpose. Oriano did a double-take, the hair on his arms prickling at the sight. With the fog pressing ever closer, it felt like the island was holding its breath. As if the act of frozen waiting could allow the impossible to rise up before him. Cautiously he walked closer to the tree, holding his own breath without realizing he was doing so, but as he approached the mists slipped away, and the boots stretched out languidly, resolving into the form of Principessa.

Oriano let his breath out with a sigh. “What are you doing?” he accused her. She fixed him with a look. “What am I doing?” he asked on her behalf. He was nervous. He was jumpy. He was just being paranoid. He tried to tell his heart rate to go back to normal, but normal felt like a concept he’d already lost. What else would he lose before all was said and done?

Some time after midnight, Oriano gave up on rest. He looked around his room as if something there might distract him, but Oriano kept little of entertainment value in those cramped quarters. He was keyed up, and being still only wound him tighter. He decided to take another walk. Maybe this time a walk would calm him down.

As soon as he stepped outside of the building, he could see nothing but the fog. Everything was a spectral white, the lights of the path nothing more than slight and hazy bright spots in a sea of impenetrable mist. Oriano hesitated. He couldn’t even see beyond a foot in front of him.

The fog coated the air in silence. Oriano couldn’t hear the waves hitting the brick retaining walls outside the dormitory. He moved a few steps in the direction of the bricks, hoping to hear the water, and he couldn’t tell if he was hearing the water, distant and muffled, or if he only imagined that he did. He thought about going back to his room, but when he turned around, he was not certain which direction the building was in. Surely it was just behind him. He glared in a few directions, each as placidly white as the last. He heard an unearthly chirping from deep within the mists, and his stomach and heart crashed into each other in unexpected fear.

“It’s just the fog,” he whispered to himself. But the fog tasted like the thought of trees, and the weight of centuries. Oriano knew better than to run. He sat down on the paved path, pulling his knees up to his chest, and waited for the morning to find him.

[aliensandartifacts]

Melania

Mel heard her TA, Gretchen, cough, possibly choking on her coffee, before she’d even looked up at Clint who was sitting in the front row.  “I...I mean Dr. LaVeau…sorry...sorry, Doctor.  LaVeau.  I forgot.” The Freshman quickly corrected as Mel’s eyes raised to pin him, her face still looking down at her notes on the lectern that her laptop was perched on.

They’d been in the middle of a lecture on her excavation in Peru that had been with Devlin McCormick and Danforth Jones decades in the past when Clint had interjected.  He was young, he was eager, and he often tried Mel’s patience.   Part of that was that he seemed to have an innate sense of picking up on the truths about things hidden in plain sight, whether they be about aliens or the supernatural.  Once he did get a hold of one of those, he was hard to get off of that topic.   Something told her that he would one day be working for her, or alongside her.

“Better, Clint.” A smirk formed on her face as she stepped from behind the lectern and over in front of the table that was up on the riser that she was on.   There were almost 100 students in her lecture and she knew them almost all by name because this lecture class actually wanted to be there.  They had discussions and were interactive, and she knew that if she tried to swing the discussion back where it had been going that they’d all be wondering why she didn’t answer Clint’s question.  Sliding to sit on the table, she crossed her feet at the ankles and let her high heel clad feet swing slightly.  “And yes, I did catch that episode last night.  Although I don’t believe that everything unexplained or unknown is,”  she brought her hands up in dramatic fashion and leaned forward, “***ALIENS!***”  The class all laughed at the slight crazed expression on her face  and the way she duplicated Giorgio Tsoukalos’ mannerisms as she said it. Mel chuckled as she sat upright and looked around the class again.  “Okay, so seriously, you know I do watch those and I also happen to enjoy a good binge on everyone’s favorite hot nerd:  Josh Gates.  Folklore and mythos all have some basis in reality but that doesn’t mean that everything is aliens, ghosts, or some supernatural creature.  There are real world explanations for many things that the people who came up with those mythos just did not understand.  However,”  she uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, placing her hands on either side of her thighs to hold prop herself up as she faced her class, “there are things that are unexplained.  And there are jellyfish, which I firmly believe are examples of alien life.” 

From there the discussion returned to the show that Clint had mentioned and Mel’s thoughts on it.  Areas she agreed, areas she disagreed, and her own personal observations having been to the site as both a tourist and a professional.  She engaged the class, challenged them, and in some cases flat out disagreed and pointed out areas where their logic and facts were flawed and wrong.  There were many areas where she admitted there was not evidence and that answers could not be found.  Could it be aliens?  Maybe.  Could it just be that modern man was looking at things with minds that were over complicating it?  Also possible.  It was hard to go back into the past and look through the eyes of those who lived then and know what exactly they were seeing and why they thought things should be done a certain way or how they necessarily did them.  At the end of time, she left them with a few thoughts and a promise that next time they WERE going to get through the lecture that they had skipped out on this time before sliding off and stretching her long denim clad legs and watching her students prepare to head out.

After telling Gretchen she’d see her in her office later in the day, Mel headed back to the lectern to shut down her laptop and get things packed up to head back out into the frey of the symposium attendees and try to make it back to her office in one piece.  She might once more take the back halls and tunnels after hearing her students talk about their experiences. Just as she had deposited her laptop into her messenger bag she saw a gentleman making his way to the front that she knew wasn’t one of her students, too old, but seemed to have something on his mind.

“Dr. Melania LaVeau.  Is there something I can help you with?”  She greeted him with an intrigued smile before he made it to the front of the lecture hall.

Tristan

He finished walking down the aisle and stood just out of handshake range.  “Just plain Tristan Beck.  I hope you don’t mind that I snuck in and listened.  I have a special place in my heart for anything Extraterrestrial.”  There was an awkward few minutes while he worked up the nerve to continue.  Since she outranked him in the education department, he decided to treat her like he would the principal of the high school he taught at.  “From one teacher  to another, I liked the way you handled the kid that asked the question.  I was just about to head up to the Astronomy symposium upstairs, but …”  He shrugged.  “I like Aliens.”  He blurted it out, much like someone might say they like mustard on their hot dogs.

Her laugh made him smile.  “Have you ever found anything in your research that made you pause and wonder if perhaps something or someone from a more complex universe had a hand in its creation?  The Nazca lines?  The Incan Calendar?  Okapi’s?”  At her blank stare he grinned.  “You know.  Giraffe’s only relative?  Looks like someone took a zebra and crossed it with said giraffe.”  That earned him another soft chuckle.

His phone pinged with an incoming message.  He looked down and his spirits  sank.  ~Tris, where are you?  Dr. Marks is about to talk and you’re not here.  Hurry up, there’s not many seats left and I’m thirsty!~

“Well, I gotta run. Apparently I’m not important enough to hold up a lecture on the possibility of planets that revolve around black holes.   I just wanted to thank you.  I enjoyed the lecture greatly.”  He didn’t hold out his hand for her to shake.  It was rude and stupid but he just couldn’t do it, so he smiled again and nodded as he turned away.

Melania

“Nice to meet you *just Tristan Beck*.”  Mel was almost chuckling as she called out to the intriguing gentleman as he started to head back toward the main aisle out of the lecture hall.  “You didn’t let me answer though,”  she paused as he looked back but continued to walk.  So she did have his attention.  Interesting. “Yes, I have.  I am a woman of science but I do believe we are not alone in the universe.  Aliens, spirits, paranormal, supernatural, I not only believe...I have seen proof.  Enjoy your lecture, but if you want to talk more, I’m one building over,”  she pointed in the direction that the building her office was in was located.  “Third floor.  If you can’t find it, ask where the Voodoo Princess Archaeologist is located.  I’m kinda famous over there.” She gave him a wink and saw his brows slightly draw together and that made her laugh again.  “You better hurry.  I’ve heard it’s a madhouse out there.”  She gave him a bright smile as he headed out. Shaking her head, she turned back and slung her messenger back up and over, crosswise over her body.  Deciding that she wasn’t wanting to brave the horde of symposium attendees and LSU students out in the atrium, she took the back door out of the lecture hall that would lead down to the tunnels that connected the buildings underground and were accessible only to faculty and staff.  One of the perks of the jobs, quick exits.

A few minutes later and she was up on the third floor and in her office, a new pot of Blue Mountain coffee started and her feet propped up on her trash can under her desk as she booted her laptop up to see what new and interesting excuses her students would have for wanting to turn in assignments late.   Behind her lining the built-in shelves were the many books on archaeology, history, and other various topics she found of interest along with various artifacts that she had legally collected over the years.  Some of what was on the shelves were painstaking reproductions of artifacts that she had discovered that had been respectfully turned over to the proper authorities, but which she wanted to commemorate discoveries that held significance.  There were days that she would look at many of them fondly.

About an hour after she had arrived back in her office, she received a Zoom call from a colleague who was doing an excavation with a team in Israel.  Mel pulled back her long, wavy, dark brown hair in a high ponytail to keep it out of her face at the beginning of the call.  As normal, she frequently gestured with her hands as she talked.  Her silver toned rings caught the light and the colors of the items in the room as her fingers flexed and moved.  A few of the rings had stones in them that coordinated with what she had on.  This day it was pink jasper and lapis, matching the creamy pink of her sweater and the dark blue of her jeans.  On her right thumb was a teardrop shaped amber ring that was made from a piece she had personally found and was mounted in a setting that appeared antique.  It was the most elegant piece that she had on, and one that she wore daily.  Rarely did she wear gold, and seldom gemstones of any kind unless attending a formal function.

She had just ended the call and refilled her “Forensic Anthropologist:  I’d find you much more interesting if you were dead.” coffee mug when there was a knock on the door.  “Come in, but you better have chocolate with you!”  Mel teasingly called as she spun her purple and yellow LSU Secretlab gaming chair back around.  “OH! Oops, sorry, I thought you were a student.”  Mel laughed when she saw who it was.  “Come on in, no chocolate required as an offering this time.”

[kingliam-rys]

Where do we go? (Liam x MC)

A/N: This is sometime in TRR Book 2, so throwback to the good old days of TRR, I miss them sometimes....I know this type of scene has been done over an over again but I think I added my own unique spin on it so I hope you all enjoy!!

My Masterlist

Prompts are from Here and are bolded in the text.

24.you aren’t here anymore/39.have you ever told me the truth?

I decided to combine both prompts cause I just can’t handle putting Liam x Riley through so much angst... but enjoy.

Thanks to @kingliam2019 & @sanchita012 for sending in #s. I appreciate it!!

Tag List (Let me know if you’d like to be added) : @cordoniaqueensworld

Riley paced the balcony of the hotel. The elegant gala that she quickly left, was raging on some floors below. It was a night filled with fake smiles, and imitated banter. She only lasted so long to hold up appearance but upon the sight of the man she loved, held onto another woman, his fiancé, Riley sought refuge at one of the hotel’s wrap-around balconies.

 It took everything in her to not claw that blonde she-devil’s eyes out. The way she held onto his arm, leaned into his touch, laughed at the conversations they shared with the other dignitaries. That should be me, she thought, leaning her arms against the stone, looking out at the buildings below.

 She heard the heavy footsteps from behind her, taking a glance down towards the approaching feet, noticing the worn brown dress shoes, the distinct smell of whiskey present a moment later. She sighed as she returned her attention back to the view in front of her.

 “Are you okay?”

 Riley let out a bitter laugh, “Am I Okay? Sure why not.” She retorted, “Why wouldn’t I be okay? The man I love is engaged to someone else, I’m being forced to endure their engagement tour for the sake of decorum, my name is being dragged through the mud, my life may be threatened because someone doesn’t want me to be queen or to be happy, and to top it all off, I’m pretty sure Maxwell drank his weight in Shirley temples, so I get to deal with a sugar-high drunk Maxwell later this evening. So sure, I’m okay.”

 “-Just making sure.” He responded, leaning against the cement rail, bringing his drink to his lips as he stared at her. “You know he doesn’t care for her. Not like he-”

 “Stop talking! Please” She stressed, refusing to hear those same words that all of her friends had uttered to her before. She’s been back at court for two weeks, and it seemed that every one of these events always turned out the same. The sight of the perfect couple, sending her reeling and dismissing the event, leaving in a haste, one of her friends trailing after her and trying to console her. It broke Riley every time. She didn’t know if she’d be able to take it much longer, wondering if this was all worth it, “how many more times am I going to have to do this Drake? I don’t know if I can keep it together.”

Drake looked at her, his own heartbreaking as he watched the brave strong woman break down. Drake wasn’t sure how to respond to her. He wasn’t the most comforting person, and all he seemed to muster up was a witty comment. Not appropriate for the situation.

So he just stood beside her, in quiet companionship, placing his hand on her arm, in a fetal attempt at letting her know that he was there for her, at least.

Her tearful hiccups had surpassed, only the tears that she couldn’t seem to control fell down her cheeks.  “you should go back inside Drake, I’ll be fine.  I promise, just need to get my emotions under control.” She mumbled, hugging her arms around herself, taking a moment to look up at his face. Drake watched her, unsure if he should leave her be, Riley just nodded, placing a tiny smile on her face, nodding over towards the door. He complied, giving her arm one more squeeze before turning to leave.

Liam has taken his own moment to step away from the parliament members that vied for his attention. He found refuge on one of the balconies, at first only hearing the sound of the city below. Closing his eyes at the peaceful bliss he had found. Thinking back to the gala, the amount of fake emotions he had to play up, holding onto his fiancé as they participated in conversation after conversation. Madeleine was a natural at duplicity, Liam however found the entire ordeal gruesome and draining.

The peak of his night was seeing the woman he loved, dressed elegantly in the soft blue dress, that brought out the amber flecks in her eyes. Their gazes had met numerous times during the night, sharing a silent conversation, Liam wishing that he could be near her, that she was the one on his arm instead.

His tranquil musing interrupted as he heard a raised voice, around the corner of the balcony. He knew that voice anywhere. Riley. He followed the conversation, he could tell Riley was crying, the shaking of her voice, the tiny hiccups he could only hear from a distance. She was upset. As she came into view, Liam quickly noticed the man standing next to her, Drake. 

He could tell that Riley had a difficult time with everything. Even if their shared glances with one another seemed happy, he would continue to watch her afterwards, noticing the smile never quite reaching her eyes, and only letting out small laughs, instead of the normal Riley laugh’s, she had exhibited numerous times during the social season.

He only revealed himself after he watched Drake head back into the hotel. “Riley?” He questioned, noticing her posture stiffen at the sound of his voice, “what’s wrong?” 

He immediately winced at his question. He knew what was wrong. There was not much going right for them the past few weeks. Riley thought over her own words as the man, who she loved and he claimed to love her as well, slowly approached her. She thought about that more and more recently. How does she really know if what he says is true, how does she know if he loves her.  The only thing he’s ever told her that’s been true, is how the rules were different here, how he couldn’t play favorites during the social season. But when it came to her, the promises he had made, not one held any merit. 

Liam wrapped an arm around her, bringing her closer to his side, trying to alleviate that sadness she was feeling. “Riley, I know that this is difficult for you. I’m sorry you have to deal with it, but we will get through this, we -”

“Have you ever told me the truth?” She lashed, pulling out from his grasp cutting off his words as she rambled off her own. “All of the promises you made me, the night you told me you loved me? That same night when you basically proposed, but chose someone else? Every other night since I’ve returned to court where you’ve said that you’ll always be there, that you only want me, that she means nothing to you? Everything you’ve said has been a lie, how am I supposed to believe anything you say now?”

“I do love you Riley,” He urged, reaching out to her again, only for Riley to brush off his hand. 

“This doesn’t feel like love.” She bit back, she felt hurt and broken. This wasn’t the Riley that first came to Cordonia 5 months ago. This Riley feared for her life, she felt like she couldn’t trust anyone, everything inside her ached with hurt. No the old Riley was gone, a shell of a woman replacing her. “I don’t feel like myself anymore. I hate that I let myself get so caught up in the idea of a fairytale, I don’t even recognize me. No one is there for me, no one I can trust- sure I have Maxwell and Hana and Drake, but-they’re not you.” 

She had whispered the last part, the tears pouring over even more as she thoroughly broke down. She had no clue how she’d be able to keep a handle on her emotions going forward. Maybe she should just forget this whole thing, this promise of a fairytale, and go back home.

“You could’ve come to me,” he pleaded, trying to convey the sincere heartbreak he was feeling at the sight of her normal bright happy eyes, spilling tears.

“How? You aren’t here anymore, you can’t be,” She muttered, hastily wiping the tears that escaped. She was afraid to look at him. To see the reaction that she feared the most. She was tired of his excuses, I couldn’t choose you because then you’d be a target, I can’t lose you, your safety was threatened, so tired of the excuses. The silence grew between them, the words spoken before settling hard against her mind. It felt as if a weight was resting on her chest, making it hard to breathe. He wasn’t there for her anymore. 

Without waiting a further second, she quickly turned around, pushing past him. Knowing full well that she needed to get away. She couldn’t stay any longer, this wasn’t worth it anymore.

[autolovecraft]

He changed his business, but something always preyed upon him.

Never did he knock together flimsier and ungainlier caskets, or disregard more flagrantly the needs of the rusty lock on the tomb door which he slammed open and shut with such nonchalant abandon. He had, indeed, made that coffin for Matthew Fenner; but had cast it aside at last as too awkward and flimsy, in a fit of curious sentimentality aroused by recalling how kindly and generous the little old man had been to him during his bankruptcy five years before. Birch returned over the coffins to the door.

Birch glanced about for other possible points of escape.

He was just dizzy and careless enough to annoy his sensitive horse, which as he drew it viciously up at the tomb neighed and pawed and tossed its head, much as on that former occasion when the rain had vexed it. The air had begun to be exceedingly unwholesome; but to this detail he paid no attention as he toiled, half by feeling, at the heavy and corroded metal of the latch. And so the prisoner toiled in the twilight, heaving the unresponsive remnants of mortality with little ceremony as his miniature Tower of Babel rose course by course. Perhaps he screamed. The air had begun to be exceedingly unwholesome; but to this detail he paid no attention as he toiled, half by feeling, at the heavy and corroded metal of the latch. Only the coffins themselves remained as potential stepping-stones, and as he considered these he speculated on the best mode of transporting them. His head was broken in, and everything was tumbled about.

Most distinctly Birch was lax, insensitive, and was concerned only in getting the right coffin for the platform; for no sooner was his full bulk again upon it than the rotting lid gave way, jouncing him two feet down on a surface which even he did not care to imagine. He was oddly anxious to know if Birch were sure—absolutely sure—of the identity of that top coffin of the pile; how he had distinguished it from the inferior duplicate coffin of vicious Asaph Sawyer. The skull turned my stomach, but the bald fact of imprisonment so far from the daily paths of men was enough to exasperate him thoroughly. In this funereal twilight he rattled the rusty handles, pushed at the iron panels, and wondered why the massive portal had grown so suddenly recalcitrant. He could, he was sure, get out by midnight—though it is characteristic of him that this thought was untinged with eerie implications. His frightened horse had gone home, but his frightened wits never quite did that. At last the spring thaw came, and graves were laboriously prepared for the nine silent harvests of the grim reaper which waited in the tomb. He had even wondered, at Sawyer's funeral, how the vindictive farmer had managed to lie straight in a box so closely akin to that of the diminutive Fenner. He confided in me because I was his doctor, and because he probably felt the need of confiding in someone else after Davis died. Birch returned over the coffins to the door.

It was just as he had recognized old Matt's coffin that the door slammed to in the wind, leaving him in a dusk even deeper than before. The narrow transom admitted only the feeblest of rays, and the degree of dignity to be maintained in posing and adapting the unseen members of lifeless tenants to containers not always calculated with sublimest accuracy. Most distinctly Birch was lax, insensitive, and was concerned only in getting the right coffin for the platform; for no sooner was his full bulk again upon it than the rotting lid gave way, jouncing him two feet down on a surface which even he did not heed the day at all; though ever afterward he refused to do anything of importance on that fateful sixth day of the week. Over the door, however, the high, slit-like transom in the brick facade gave promise of possible enlargement to a diligent worker; hence upon this his eyes long rested as he racked his brains for means to reach it. Maddened by the sound, or by the stench which billowed forth even to the open air, the waiting horse gave a scream that was too frantic for a neigh, and plunged madly off through the night, the wagon rattling crazily behind it. Would the firm Fenner casket have caved in so readily? Undisturbed by oppressive reflections on the time, the place, and the coffin niches on the sides and rear—which Birch seldom took the trouble to use—afforded no ascent to the space above the door.

Neither did his old physician Dr. Davis, who died years ago. He was curiously unelated over his impending escape, and almost dreaded the exertion, for his form had the indolent stoutness of early middle age. Why did you do it, Birch?

His questioning grew more than medically tense, and his body responding with that maddening slowness from which one suffers when chased by the phantoms of nightmare. At any rate he kicked and squirmed frantically and automatically whilst his consciousness was almost eclipsed in a half-swoon. He was just dizzy and careless enough to annoy his sensitive horse, which as he drew it viciously up at the tomb neighed and pawed and tossed its head, much as on that former occasion when the rain had vexed it. Then he fled back to the lodge and broke all the rules of his calling by rousing and shaking his patient, and hurling at him a succession of shuddering whispers that seared into the bewildered ears like the hissing of vitriol. Great heavens, Birch, but you knew what a little man old Fenner was. His drinking, of course, only aggravated what it was meant to alleviate. He cried aloud once, and a little later gave a gasp that was more terrible than a cry.

His frightened horse had gone home, but his frightened wits never quite did that. He would have given much for a lantern or bit of candle; but lacking these, bungled semi-sightlessly as best he might. An eye for an eye! He worked largely by feeling now, since newly gathered clouds hid the moon; and though progress was still slow, he felt heartened at the extent of his encroachments on the top and bottom of the aperture, he sought to pull himself up, when he noticed a queer retardation in the form of an apparent drag on both his ankles.

The undertaker grew doubly lethargic in the bitter weather, and seemed to outdo even himself in carelessness. He had, indeed, made that coffin for Matthew Fenner; but had cast it aside at last as too awkward and flimsy, in a fit of curious sentimentality aroused by recalling how kindly and generous the little old man had been to him during his bankruptcy five years before.

The afflicted man was fully conscious, but would say nothing of any consequence; merely muttering such things as Oh, my ankles! Well enough to skimp on the thing some way, but you knew what a little man old Fenner was.

Being without superstition, he did not heed the day at all; though ever afterward he refused to do anything of importance on that fateful sixth day of the week. Neither did his old physician Dr. Davis, who died years ago.

Certainly, the events of that evening greatly changed George Birch. Steeled by old ordeals in dissecting rooms, the doctor entered and looked about, stifling the nausea of mind and body that everything in sight and smell induced. He could, he was sure, get out by midnight—though it is characteristic of him that this thought was untinged with eerie implications. The light was dim, but Birch's sight was good, and he vaguely wished it would stop. And so the prisoner toiled in the twilight, heaving the unresponsive remnants of mortality with little ceremony as his miniature Tower of Babel rose course by course. He was merely crass of fiber and function—thoughtless, careless, and liquorish, as his easily avoidable accident proves, and without that modicum of imagination which holds the average citizen within certain limits fixed by taste. Being without superstition, he did not heed the day at all; though ever afterward he refused to do anything of importance on that fateful sixth day of the week. As he remounted the splitting coffins he felt his weight very poignantly; especially when, upon reaching the topmost one, he heard that aggravated crackle which bespeaks the wholesale rending of wood. He cried aloud once, and a hammer and chisel selected, Birch returned over the coffins to the door. It may have been just fear, and it may have been encouraging and to others may have been mocking.

It must have been midnight at least when Birch decided he could get through the transom, and in the crawl which followed his jarring thud on the damp ground.

I'll never get the picture out of my head as long as I live. Perhaps he screamed. The narrow transom admitted only the feeblest of rays, and the degree of dignity to be maintained in posing and adapting the unseen members of lifeless tenants to containers not always calculated with sublimest accuracy. Only the coffins themselves remained as potential stepping-stones, and as he considered these he speculated on the best mode of transporting them. There was evidently, however, the high, slit-like transom in the brick facade gave promise of possible enlargement to a diligent worker; hence upon this his eyes long rested as he racked his brains for means to reach it.

[samthemarvelfan]

Graveyard: Prologue

Summary: Waking up on a trash heap is never ideal. Getting imprisoned on a planet you’ve never heard of? That’s way worse. Ella was one of Asgard fiercest and most cunning protectors, but when Loki’s rebellion threatens her people’s safety, she’s made it her mission to do one thing and one thing only; kill him. By any means necessary. 

Pairing: Loki Odinson x OFC

Warnings: Imprisonment, fight scenes, general calamity, canon typical brouhaha. 

A/N: So idk where this is gonna go just yet, but here’s a lil tasty morsel. This is my first non-Bucky fic! and it features my first Marvel love--Loki <3 Tags are open :)

The acrid smell of rust and filth surrounded you as you woke.

Sitting up, you realize that, once again, you’d awoken in your cell. Wishful thinking kept alive the hope that this was all a dream.

“Raaagg!” The guard with the tentacles shouted as he chucked the tray of mush under your door.

You grimaced at the sight of the chunky grayish-blue mush. “Thanks a lot.” You mumble as he walks away.

“...asshole.”

The substance jiggled when you poked it. Begrudgingly, you spooned some into your mouth. How could something this color taste like rotten carrots?

“Morning, Ella.” Korg said through your bars.

You smiled halfheartedly at him. “Hi Korg. Where’s Miek?”

“Ah, he’s part of the welcome wagon today.” He said cheerfully. “I guess a special guest arrived last night.”

You nod, eating your mush. “Really? Who is it this time?” You didn’t care, it was just nice to have a conversation with someone who could actually speak your language.

“Not sure, you know. But rumor has it he’s a King.” He said.

Rolling your eyes, you looked to him, “Aren’t they all.” The words dripped with sarcasm.

“No. Not everyone.” He said plainly. Korg was a...simple guy, sarcasm often escaped him.

“I know, Korg...I—forget it. I’ll see you tomorrow?” You ask.

“Actually, rumor has it a few prisoners are being released to the work shed to make room for new ones. I put a good word in for you!” He said happily.

Your head perked up. “Really? Thank you, Korg!”

“No sweat. Well, I have to go draw and quarter some Skartelians. Bye-bye, then!”

When Korg had left your cell front, it was once again just you, your slop, and the first glimmer of hope you had. A chance to finally be out of this fresh hell.

You’d forgotten how long you’d been in this place; a week? Maybe two? A month?

The days were long and they all blurred together. Your only solace was plotting your revenge against that repulsive megalomaniac who put you here in the first place.

The day before your capture:

“We must get to Heimdall.” Sif whispered to you. “The people need to leave this place before he enslaves them all.”

Your bloodshot eyes scanned the area. The sound of the riots outside grew louder, and guards patrolled every exit.

Almost every one.

“Sif, look.” You said, nodding to the archway just off the main corridor.

Your stealth is something you were known for. Being as clever and cunning and careful as any warrior before you. Not only that, but Sif had been the one that trained you for battle. You were just as fierce and skilled as she was.

The cold stone of the pillar pressed against your back, “I’m going. One of us needs to tell Heimdall to open the bifrost.”

Loki had cloaked the palace in a spell, blinding those in and around it from Heimdall’s sight.

She nodded, “I’ll give you as much cover as I can.”

You crouched and rolled a ways to get to the next pillar. Your steps and movements were so light, not even you heard them.

The palace guards had just done a rotation to the next corridor, and that’s when you made your breakaway.

You slipped through the archway with ease and began running down the stairs. The cobbled flights of steps were your last hurdle, then it was just a long, but mad dash down the bridge to get to Heimdall.

“Going somewhere?”

You froze. Your foot had just touched the last step, but it was too late. You’d been caught...he had caught you.

“Hm, it looks like you are. Perhaps running to that golden eyed oaf to tell him what I’ve done?”

Loki.

You swallowed thickly.

“What’s the matter, darling? Cat got your tongue?” He smirked.

“Another cheap trick? Had to conjure up a spell because you couldn’t find me yourself?” You spat back at him.

Loki began circling you. When he was right behind you, he spoke next to your ear. “Why don’t you make a run for it and see?”

It was a test. But you knew Loki would never be out here, so close to the riots. The ‘scourge of the kingdom’ rebelling against his reign and rule over Asgard.

“Alright.” You turn quickly on your heel and sprint.

You made it 20 feet when a log appeared out of no where right under your feet. You hurdled forward, stumbling and rolling on the ground.

The slam of the dirt knocked the wind clean out of you.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk...” Loki tutted. “Next time toss a pebble. That’d be a much wiser test.”

You stood as quickly as you could, and charged him. “I’d rather toss a dagger.” Your blades dropped from your sleeves into your grasp.

Slashing at him, the blade narrowly missed his throat. He stepped back smoothly, circling himself around you, before casting his duplication spell.

Suddenly you were surrounded by dozens of him. Each of them taunting you.

“Come and get me.”

Slash

“I’m over here!”

Slash

“Did you miss me?”

All attempts futile. The God of Mischief certainly was worthy of the name.

“You coward! Fight me!” You shout.

In a snap, the copies disappeared. Loki stood behind you, and cleared his throat. “Would you really kill your King, Ellaria?” He asked, using your full name.

“I’m not loyal to a throne, nor am I loyal to a murderer.” You seethe breathlessly.

Loki’s jaw clenched as he took a step away from you.

“Guards?” He said simply.

Suddenly, a dozen Asgardian soldiers surrounded you. “Please escort this little minx to the dungeons.”

You were trapped. The golden men circled you as Loki watched, enjoying the torment.

“Ella! Now!” You heard Sif shout. She had her crossbow at the ready, and fired on the guards. At her fastest, she could fire 30 arrows a minute, plenty to take out a dozen guards.

In an instant, their shields went up, and Loki crouched behind them. “Stop her!” He shouted, staring at Sif.

“Loki...” you called.

He turned quickly, and you slashed you dagger across his face, leaving a small gash on his cheek bone.

His fingertips went to feel for blood, and sure enough, it began to drip.

Loki laughed, his teeth chewing on his lip.

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” You smirked.

You planted your boot on the shield of the guard next to you. They were all crouched so it was easier than expected. Backflipping out of the circle of them, you ran as fast as you could down the bridge, praying Loki’s spell didn’t cast that far.

“Heimdall! Heimdall!” You scream.

A quick glance over your shoulder confirms your wonder if you were being chased yet.

“Heimdall! Open the bifrost!” You’re screeching now.

Suddenly, the bridge shakes. He’d heard you!

“Ellaria, stop!” Loki shouts from behind you. You glance to see he’s on a horse, riding fast.

Your lungs expand once more, but before sound escapes you, you see a tidal way approaching you. Angry water pulled from the sea beneath you barreling down from behind you.

“Heimdall! Open the bifrost! Please!” You’re desperate. The maniac chasing you had indeed cast a spell; one to end your life. 

You watched as the bifrost began to spin, he’d heard you at last!

Suddenly the wave over took you, launching you down the length of the bridge towards Heimdall.

You were rolling and churning in the waters Loki had cast, running out of air fast.

You’d gotten sent so far by the massive wave, somehow you been forced past Heimdall and into the still-turning stream of light that was the bifrost.

The surge of energy sent your body into a whirlwind. You were soaring through the universe in an iridescent ray of light made of enough energy to light up a continent.

After what seemed like mere seconds, you felt yourself enter and atmosphere. Shortly after that, you’d landed on a pile of...trash?

The tingles rushing through your body drained you. You’d never been in the bifrost alone before, and it was clear your body couldn’t handle the amount of power surging around it.

Clicks and pops made you open your eyes. Shielding them from the sun with your hand, you found yourself surrounded by humanoid creatures of every size and color. 

They were speaking. Communicating to one another.

“Help me. Please help me.” You begged, hoping feigning weakness would stop any unwanted hostility.

The orange creature reached his hand out--a hand with eight fingers, and you took it. He hoisted you up to your feet, and gave you a half smile. 

“Thank you.”

He nodded, “Mezbanjala fo tutu.” He clicked his tongue quickly.

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t understand you.” You said, shaking your head.

The group of creatures eyes suddenly widened, and the lot of them began shouting and running away.

“Hey! Wha--”

You felt a sharp pain in your neck, and then everything went black.