#help I’m tired and I have a twinge of a headache so the first draft was—

[hello-eeveev]

I have to wonder if Essek’s heartbreaker comment wasn’t also based on picking up on Dorian and Orym’s pretty-intense-but-not-explicitly-defined vibes that were happening and going, “oh you are handsome and awkward and in love with a Liam O’Brien PC in Aeor? been there. make good choices!”

[lalainajanes]

This completes column #2 on my bingo card, the square was “Eager Backstage Groupie”

Another Shot of Courage

 Saturday, May 1st, 8:16 AM

Caroline wakes up in an unfamiliar bed, in the little black dress she'd worn to Kat's birthday party, with a headache and a foul-tasting mouth. She's sprawled in the middle of a very large mattress, so the first thing Caroline does is explore. She stretches her arms out tentatively, expecting to poke someone (hopefully an unobjectionable someone) awake.

She appears to be alone, and Caroline relaxes into the fluffy pillows. She wiggles experimentally, satisfied when her bra and underwear dig into uncomfortable areas and gives in to the temptation to burrow under the duvet.

She just needs a minute to regret her life choices before she confronts them. Caroline sighs, stretches, and her fuzzy head begins to clear, memories sharpening.

And yikes.

Can she stay in her self-made blanket fort forever? A lot of her conduct last night had been highly irrational, some of it downright hypocritical. She is a public relations professional, highly sought after. Her clients pay many pretty pennies for her services.

Had she seriously mauled Klaus Mikaelson in one of the trendiest clubs in LA?

Caroline tugs down the blanket, intent on confirming her suspicions, allowing her to look around and study the room with new eyes.

There's a brick fireplace at the end of the bed, a wide armchair in front of it – not particularly revealing. Her eyes flick to the left. There's nothing, but dark curtains pulled tight over a wall of windows.

When she looks to the right, there's a smoking gun. Well, kind of. It's a drafting table, an easel, and shelves featuring paintbrushes, haphazardly stacked sketchbooks, and a bunch of other things that Caroline doesn't currently have the brainpower to identify.

She considers slipping out of bed and checking to see if those curtains cover any kind of door. She thinks it's logical to assume so. She's only been to Klaus' home a few times, tries to insist they meet at her office. She's never ventured far beyond the kitchen and living rooms, but it's a Spanish-style bungalow on a sprawling lot. Why wouldn't he have a walk out into the yard from his bedroom?

She discards the idea with some regret. Running away without a word is a coward's move and would probably backfire. Klaus is still her client, whatever psychosis had gripped Caroline last night, and it's not like she could dump him via email at this point. He's got a huge movie coming in three weeks, and they're flying to London tomorrow to begin the premiere tour. She could probably pass it on to another publicist, but she'd still be on the hook, would have to coordinate her plans long-distance.

Selfishly, Caroline hopes that's not necessary. She'd hate for someone else to reap the benefits of her hard work.

She heaves herself into a sitting position, wincing when her head throbs. Her stomach seems solid, with no hint of queasiness, so that's a plus. Caroline tosses the covers aside, shifts until her legs slide over the side of the bed. She catches a glimpse of herself in a mirror through the open closet door and cringes.

She'd done an excellent smoky eye last night, and it's migrated all over her face. She doesn't even want to consider how long it's going to take to detangle her hair. She decides she can wait a bit to hunt down Klaus, stepping forward and twisting the knob on the closed door. "Jackpot," Caroline mutters, walking into Klaus' bathroom. There's a stack of towels on the counter, and she figures it won't hurt to take a shower.

She'd had her tongue in his mouth and had apparently kicked him out of his bed, so what's one more presumption?

Friday, April 30th, 10:47 PM

In the VIP lounge Kat had rented, elevated above the main dance floor, Caroline waves away a shot of tequila. She'd had one during the birthday toast, wine at dinner. Had just ordered an overpriced cocktail. She's pleasantly tipsy but needs to pace herself because she can't get too drunk tonight.

Besides, Caroline and tequila have a complicated relationship.

Kat boos her, a few of the other girls joining in. Caroline laughs, "I know, I'm boring. I have a million things to do tomorrow to make sure I'm ready to live out of a suitcase for weeks."

Katherine scoffs, "Just make Klaus buy you anything you forget. What good is a guy who's hot for you and makes big fat superhero movie paychecks if he won't buy you pretty things?"

They've discussed this a bajillion times. Caroline has actually run away from this exact conversation, shouting nonsense syllables, with her fingers jammed in her ear, as if she and Katherine still fight over Barbies and who gets to wear dress-up trunk's best princess dress.

Caroline still can't resist arguing – it's a character flaw. "He's my client. That's it."

"Oh, please. Men in this town bone their clients all the time."

"That doesn't make it okay!"

Usually, this is the part where Katherine tries to convince her that Klaus is dying to be boned – her words, not Caroline's – but she gets distracted, squinting across the bar. Kat's lips curl, expression growing sly, "It appears my argument is moot."

Um, what? Katherine's literally never backed down from an argument in the twenty-plus years they've been friends. Puzzled, Caroline turns, trying to see what caught Kat's attention.

The club features several VIP lounges, each located at the top of a short staircase and decorated with wide velvet sofas and crystal chandeliers. There's an attendant who keeps booze and food flowing. It's clever – the sofas are inviting and squishy, tend to force people close together. The chandeliers ensure that anyone who happens to take a picture can get a decent shot, and the free flow of liquor has lowered the inhibitions of at least half a dozen celebrities, resulting in photos that send the gossip blogs into a tizzy as soon as they hit the internet.

When Caroline spots Klaus across the way, a redheaded model sprawled in his lap, she's immediately fuming.

"Looks like he got tired of waiting," Kat drawls. "Wanna reconsider the tequila?"

"Katherine. I love you. But zip it."

Katherine makes a face but leaves Caroline alone, turning to another one of their friends and asking a question. Caroline takes a deep breath, counts to ten.

She'd busted her ass to make him appear family-friendly enough to land the movie with the very PR-conscious studio that had netted him the big fat checks Katherine had just been crowing over. He's jeopardizing that on the eve of the most significant press tour of his career.

She looks over again, leaning forward. The redhead's moved away, she's sitting at Klaus' side, and they now appear to be merely engaged in conversation. Caroline does her best to think like a photographer – is there an angle that could make the scene look tawdry?

Probably not. So really, Klaus isn't jeopardizing anything.

Caroline's anger doesn't cool at the revelation.

She's so screwed.

She's on her feet before she decides to be, stalking down the stairs. She hears Katherine yelling borderline lewd encouragement at her back, but Caroline knows better than to take her advice.

She's marching over to diffuse, not inflame.

Hopefully.

Saturday, May 1st, 9:01 AM

She finds Klaus in his living room, asleep, his legs hanging awkwardly over the arm of a too-short couch, his torso twisted so awkwardly that Caroline's back twinges sympathetically. With the confirmation that she had stolen his bed, more of Caroline's irritation fades. The shower had helped, as had the bottle of water she'd guzzled and the three Tylenol she'd popped.

She takes a seat on his coffee table, setting down her second bottle of water. Caroline reaches out, shaking his shoulder gently. "Klaus," she murmurs when he begins to stir. "Wake up."

She could probably leave him to sleep. Klaus' stylist will handle most of his packing; he's borrowed a dizzying volume of outfits and accessories for Klaus to wear on this trip. The announcement won't come for another two weeks, but Klaus is shooting a Dior cologne ad once his press obligations wrap. The brand had requested he start wearing the newest line. Caroline had attended the last fitting, and she'd had a hard time keeping her blatant ogling under wraps.

Klaus looks good in ratty jeans, in a suit tailored to his measurements? Just about anyone attracted to men would have struggled not to appreciate the sight.

That's how Caroline had justified letting her emails pile up that afternoon.

She'd been a little worried about her control slipping on this trip, once they were alone in the hotel, and Klaus dropped the shiny, press-perfect façade he's learned to maintain. Caroline had designed that mask to appeal to the broadest possible audience. Doing interview prep has unfortunately only emphasized how much more she likes Klaus without it.

Klaus stretches, eyes fluttering open. "Good morning," he murmurs, voice husky with sleep. "I hope you slept better than I did."

Caroline winces, "Don’t you have a guest room or two you could have shoved me in?”

He smiles lazily, “You were quite insistent on touring my bedroom.”

Her eyes slam shut, face heating, “And that is why I don’t drink tequila unsupervised,” she grumbles.

He laughs, sitting up, his legs bracketing hers. He reaches for her water bottle and helps himself to a sip. Caroline leans back, fishing the Tylenol out of the pocket of the hoodie she’d stolen from his closet. She’d needed something bulkier to hide the fact she hadn’t been able to convince herself to strap her bra back on. “Do you want these?” she asks, rattling the bottle.

Klaus shakes his head, “I’m not hungover. I didn’t drink at all, and you stole that shot of tequila that was meant for me, remember?”

Ohhh no. She’d forgotten about that. She’d stolen his and the model’s.

Which, in hindsight, goes a long way to explaining what had happened after. Caroline’s problem with tequila is that once she starts, she has a hard time stopping. It heightens her usually non-existent impulsive streak, leads to sub-par decisions.

Occasionally, tequila does make her clothes fall off.

Caroline buries her hands in her face, wishing she hadn’t tied her hair back. She’s mortified, probably growing splotchy. “I am so sorry,” she mutters.

Klaus sighs, tries to tug her hands away. Caroline resists, tensing her muscles, wishes she’d gone with her first instinct and fled out the backdoor. He rests his hands on her knees, squeezing, voice dipping into coaxing tones. “No apology necessary. I’m not the least bit upset.”

Unfortunately, Caroline’s totally up to the task of being upset enough for the both of them.

Friday, April 30th, 10:53 PM

Once the attendant in Klaus VIP area confirms that he does know Caroline and lets her up the stairs, Klaus has managed to increase the distance between his body and the model’s. He seems pleased to see her, grabbing her hand and tugging her to sit next to him on the couch.

Close enough that they’re connected thigh to shoulder.

The model, whose name Caroline doesn’t particularly care about, is less welcoming. She glares daggers at Caroline’s hand, still enclosed in Klaus’. He makes polite introductions. “Genevieve, this is my publicist and very good friend, Caroline Forbes. Caroline, Genevieve. She’s a friend of Kol’s.”

Klaus’ younger brother is also an actor, still firmly in the throes of his wild child phase. Caroline finds him entertaining, despite her best intentions, but he’s known to delight in making her job more complicated. She glances around suspiciously, “Is Kol here?”

Klaus gestures vaguely to the dance floor. “Somewhere. He dragged me out to celebrate a pilot he booked, then disappeared.”

Hmm, that could lead to disaster. Caroline wonders if she should shoot his publicist a text as a professional courtesy.

Caroline smiles at Genevieve sharply, “So sweet of you to keep Klaus company.” It’s mean, but Caroline wonders if Genevieve has somehow heard about Klaus’ Dior deal through the grapevine. Maybe she’s aiming for a co-starring role – Caroline’s read the treatment for the commercial; it’s supposed to be streamy.

Oh, good lord, High School Caroline has somehow time traveled and taken over her body.

Genevieve pastes on an equally fake smile (at least Caroline’s not the only one regressing). Before she can snipe back, a silver tray is set in front of them, two shots resting on it. The attendant catches Caroline’s eye, “Can I get you anything, Miss?”

Klaus interrupts, squeezes her hand in an absent apology, “Sorry, there must be some mistake. I ordered a water.”

He’s contractually obligated to maintain a ridiculously chiseled body. Caroline’s got a reminder in her phone to order him a pile of celebratory spaghetti after his press obligations are officially over and he can relax for a few months.

The attendant’s eyes flit to Genevieve in confusion, “I…”

“I cancelled that,” she chirps, sliding her hand up Klaus’ arm. Genevieve leans in, tone lowering to what Caroline thinks is supposed to be a seductive level. “Figured we would toast.”

Caroline catches it because she’s practically plastered to Klaus’ other side. “Who toasts with tequila?” she asks. “Other than creeps at bars, I mean.”

Had Caroline not been well acquainted with Katherine Pierce, she might have been intimidated by Genevieve's attempt at a lethal glare.

Caroline stares back, reaching blindly for the first shot. She tosses it back, then the second, fighting the shudder that wants to wrack her frame through sheer willpower alone.

“Bitch,” Genevieve mutters, standing and flouncing away.

It’s petty, but Caroline savors her win.

Klaus is staring at her oddly, a touch concerned. “Maybe we should get you some water, love.”

Saturday, May 1st, 9:04 AM

“There were more shots when I got back to Kat’s party,” Caroline moans. “I’m going to kill her. She knows my weaknesses.”

“While I am reluctant to defend your irritating friend, she did seem rather intent on her fun. It was her birthday, wasn’t it?”

Caroline nods, “Yeah. And Kat’s always been firmly convinced that she should get to do whatever her little black heart desires on her birthday.”

“She did insist I ensure you get home safely. I’m afraid you were rather reluctant to supply your address.”

She sighs, finally dropping her hands. “Honestly, I just moved into a condo. I might not have remembered it.” That’s the less embarrassing option. It’s probably more likely that tequila drunk Caroline had crafted a plan to seduce Klaus, and step one entailed getting invited to his house. “I know you said not to apologize, but I obviously put you out. I’m supposed to babysit you, not the other way around.”

Klaus laughs, his knee nudging hers. “I haven’t needed that for ages, as you well know.”

He has a point – Caroline likely wouldn’t have agreed to take him on if he was still indulging in public drunkenness and paparazzi punching. When she’d first met with Klaus, it had been out of curiosity. She’d made a comfortable living from her client roster, did not need to take on the project of a difficult actor.

Klaus’ bad behavior had been a few years in the past, and he’d just come off a run of festival darlings and had produced a surprise hit sci-fi drama. He’d been frustrated by the doors that remained firmly shut to him, had laid his ambitions on the table.

Caroline had been intrigued. While she’s excellent at her job, but it’s always easier to work her magic with clients who are willing to dive into the work. Klaus’ talent was undeniable; she’d thought he could be a household name with the right opportunity. She’d agreed to take him on, and three years later, it’s paid off.

Caroline tugs the sleeves of his sweatshirt down over her hands, eyes on the frayed trim. “I was mad when I saw you last night, and that wasn’t fair. You’d set you were resting up for the press tour, but it’s not my business if you changed your mind.”

“Did you think I was resuming some bad habits?” Klaus asks. “I know that particular venue has a… reputation. Probably why Kol picked it.”

Caroline sneaks a glance at him, trying to gauge how he feels, but he’s not giving much away. “No, not really. I trust you. I wasn’t thinking super logically.”

She has to admit, at least to herself, that she’d been jealous. Caroline’s going to have to think about how deep that goes, if the feelings that had slapped her in the face last night will prevent their working relationship from being effective. What if Klaus meets someone? Will she be able to plant sneaky tidbits about how happy they are, scour the gossip blogs for rumors that could become issues?

“You? Not thinking logically? However could that be?”

She glares at him, though she knows his teasing is good-natured. “Some of it was the booze. I totally wouldn’t have hauled you onto the dance floor without it. And I wouldn’t have… well, you were there.”

She’s not up to list her transgressions. If Klaus hadn’t been drinking, then his memory of her wandering hands, her flirtatious comments, and heated invitations should be crystal clear. Caroline had been drunk, and she’s having a hard time not dwelling on the kiss – which, to be fair, Klaus had enthusiastically participated in – that she’d initiated.

“I was there. I have no objections to anything that occurred last night, save perhaps wishing you’d been sober.” Her head snaps up, eyes widening in shock, and Klaus laughs incredulously. “Surely you must know of my interest in you, Caroline.”

She’s suspected, but she’s also well aware that Klaus has no shortage of offers. Last night is proof of that. Caroline has always assumed that take one of them, at some point, and his flirtatiousness with her would fade away. She’d dated an actor or two when she’d moved to LA after wrapping up college. Caroline had been working insane hours then, trying to claw her way past the other assistants at the agency where she’d worked. Her exes from that time period had been quick to move on once they realized she wasn’t willing to center her universe around them.

“Interest can be fleeting.”

“It’s been three years.”

“You never made a real move.”

Again, Klaus counters quickly. “You’d not have accepted, and then you’d likely have pawned me off on someone else.”

Yeah, he’s got a point there. “I’m your publicist.”

“I have no objection to mixing business with pleasure. If you do, I suppose I’m willing to suffer a less competent publicist.”

“I’m beginning to suspect you’ve been plotting.”

Klaus shrugs, entirely unrepentant. “Perhaps a bit. I’ve always been entirely honest with you, I merely prevented a situation that would lessen the time we spent together until such a time as you were ready to consider me in a romantic light.”

“That’s a lot of words to confess you’ve been trying to flirt me into submission while flashing your hot body at every opportunity,” Caroline grumbles.

Klaus’ smile widens, dimples now visible. “It seems to have worked. Assuming that you meant the things you said to me last night?”

“I…” she hadn’t been expecting him to ask her that directly. She should have been – Klaus is skilled at choosing the best way to catch someone off guard. Caroline glances away from him, eyes catching on the clock across the room. Crap. She has so much to do. “I have to go,” Caroline tells him, standing up.

His eyes narrow,  and his head tips to the side, like he’s searching for a sign of weakness. Both telltale indicators that Klaus is gearing up to argue. Caroline holds up a hand, “I know, okay? This looks like I’m running away, and technically I am, but this is not the time to begin that mixing you mentioned. We’ve both worked too hard to risk screwing up the next few weeks. Did you read your contract? The fines for non-compliance are no joke.”

“Now is not the time,” Klaus says slowly. “Meaning?”

“We table it now. I’m open to a discussion later.” Three weeks is plenty of time for her to sort out where she stands, right? Caroline never sleeps on flights anyway.

He runs a hand through his hair. “I want a timeline. I understand that you feel obligated to ensure this press tour goes smoothly, but you can only use it as an excuse until it’s over, love. I’m prepared to be persuasive.”

“What, do you want me to schedule something on your calendar? Maybe set an agenda?”

“No need to be so formal. Just agree to have dinner with me once we return. Here, if you’d like, so we don’t risk inflaming the tabloids before you’re ready.”

“You seem awfully sure that this is going to go a certain way. So eager to fire me?”

Klaus gets to his feet, and Caroline sucks in a nervous breath. Sitting across from each other, he’d been a reasonable distance away. Now, with both of them standing in the narrow gap between his couch and coffee table, if one of them breathes too deeply or shifts deliberately, they’ll be plastered together.

She’s tempted despite knowing she’s right about the timing.

Klaus rests his hand on her waist and turns them so Caroline could step back if she wanted to.

She stays where she is.

A tiny smile curls Klaus’ lips and his hand moves, pressing her closer. “As much as I enjoyed your more… explicit ramblings last night, I must confess my favorite revelation was when you confessed to just how long you’ve had them.”

Caroline, not for the first time, curses tequila’s wretched existence.

Wednesday, May 5th 2:20 PM

The meet and greets are going to kill her.

Caroline had thought they were a good idea when she’d poured through the itinerary the studio had sent over. Inviting popular bloggers, auctioning off tickets for charity, allowing fans to enter random draws – it’s great PR and provides the opportunity for viral moments, while also controlling the environment.

Caroline’s leaning against one of the walls, unnoticed, eyes on her client.

A lot of eyes are on her client, some of which irritate Caroline more than others. The two teenage girls, trailed by an exasperated dad, who’d both burst into tears when Klaus had smiled at them? Totally adorable. The nerdy college student who’d grilled Klaus about his character’s comic backstory? Kind of a pain, but Klaus had done his homework, and Caroline had been impressed.

And annoyed. Excessive preparation is very attractive and unhelpful at this juncture of the press tour. Caroline’s already begun to reconsider what they’d agreed to, wonders if knocking on his hotel room door on the last night would be such a bad thing.

That line of thinking might be overly influenced by the scene in front of her.

Klaus is speaking with a woman in an afternoon inappropriate silver dress. Caroline’s sorely tempted to have her escorted out by security. She’d slipped a key card into the back pocket of Klaus’ jeans within 90 seconds of meeting him.

He’s handed it back, said something that made her laugh. They’re still talking.

Klaus glances up, eyes landing on her immediately. Caroline hastily tries to soften her irritated expression lest he guesses its reason. Klaus smiles, subtly tips his water bottle in her direction. Silver Dress invades his personal space a little more.

Ugh. It’s gonna be a long three weeks.

[codyfernaesthetic]

Dichotomy

Part 4:

The Sanctuary holds a massive celebration in honor of Michael Langdon’s return from Outpost 3. Mallory attempts to adjust to her new life with the help of new friends.

Author’s note: Hello! Shorter chapter this time, but I didn’t want to put it off any longer. I have big plans for Dinah and other minor characters so I wanna draft that out and get all of it together. Until then, here’s the ballroom scene! I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Warnings: Language, mild sexual themes, mentions of anxiety

Mallory didn’t have long to settle into her new home when a knock came from the door. Rhoda quickly rushed forward past Mallory who was already making her way and opened it. Outside the threshold was an older African American woman, short and stout; brown freckles were dotted across her round cheeks and nose, framed by dark curly q’s with stripes of gray splashed throughout. She wore a black, purple brocaded vest over a flowy white shirt, a violet skirt decorated with black silk trimmings stopped below her knees in the front and fell past her ankles in the back. Her shoes were royal purple, large black stones sparkling in their center. In her right hand she carried a large, worn leather bag.

“Hello, dear.”

She entered without Mallory having the chance to grant permission. As Rhoda shut the door, the woman held out her hand, “You must be Mallory. My name is Lydia Porfirio, perhaps you’ve heard of me?”

Mallory took her hand with a small twinge of uncertainty, until taking another moment to think and realizing where she recognized her.

“Yes!” She exclaimed with a smile, “Coco sent me to pick up your summer collection that she got for her birthday.”

“Coco?”

“My...” her face fell, a wave of further realization crashing over her, “former employer.”

Lydia patted her hand sympathetically, “She didn’t survive, I’m assuming?”

She shook her head and muttered, “No.”

She released her hand and set down her bag, saying, “You look devastated over it. I’ve known too many assistants who would’ve loved to murder their employers. Hell, I know I did when I was working for some no talent hacks before selling my soul to ol’ Beelzebub,” she removed a pair of black gloves and set them on the bed, “So, I suppose you two must’ve been good friends.”

She began opening the bag, pulling out measures and sewing kits and patterns; all the while Mallory watched, dumbfounded, unsure how to voice the forming ideas in her mind.

“So, this is all a Satanist thing.”

She stopped. She turned her face to her with a wry smile, “What was your first hint?”

Mallory hesitated, then asked in a low voice, “What does that make Mr. Langdon?”

Lydia cocked her head to the side, as if registering her question. She slowly stood straight, sudden realization in her eyes that Mallory truly didn’t know, “Michael Langdon is the Antichrist.”

Her head spinned as she grappled for the edge of the love seat, “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Now, hold on,” Lydia grabbed her by the arms and gently helped her sit down, “just take a deep breath, honey.”

She threw her head back and commanded Rhoda, “Go get her some water.”

She rushed to complete her task and knelt down in front of Mallory, presenting the glass before her. She waved it away, rubbing her temples, her breathing shallow.

“Why am I here? Why didn’t he just kill me?”

She wished she’d stayed dead the first time. She wished she never had to learn about Coco. Everything she knew was twisting and morphing before her eyes and she didn’t understand why.

“You must be something very special,” Lydia consoled, “Only the richest people got a chance to come to The Sanctuary. I know it’s a lot to take in, but you really are a lucky girl.”

She tried to chuckle, but it only came out as a mirthless, throaty grunt. She rubbed her eyes, a sharp pinprick headache forming at the base of her skull.

“I hate to do this to you,” Lydia stood, twirling a tuft of hair, “but I do need to start working if we want you in something presentable for the celebration.”

She looked up at her, “What?”

“I was sent here to make you a dress. I’m assuming you just came here with the clothes on your back.”

Mallory shook her head, disgusted and tired, “I can’t.”

Lydia answered sympathetically, but with a warning undertone, “It’s not optional, dear.”

She wrung her hands and closed her eyes, she never remembered praying to anyone or anything before, but now found herself calling out into the universe. Like an ant screaming to the top of a mountain, begging for anyone at all to hear her and help.

“Ok.”

*.*.*

The grand ballroom of The Sanctuary sprawled the length of a football field, its floor pure black marble, shined to reflect the domed ceiling towering above. Chandeliers of silver hung from the rafters, red rubies spilling down them like drops of blood. Murals were scrawled across the entire circumference of the ceiling, resembling the art of the Sistine Chapel, but with a much darker overtone. The people of Babel stood in pride, beholding their beautiful tower that touched the stars, defying the will of God; another, the grizzly scene of the murder of Abel, his brother Cain violently crushing his head with a stone. But in the center of the dome was the most vivid of them all. The scene was a perfect cloudscape, hues of gold and violet and orange dazzled and danced between puffs of white, the sky above radiant with white light, with the exception of one lone aberration. A figure with his arms outstretched, encrusted head to toe in clothes of fine silk and jewels, wings sprinkled with starlight, golden hair swirling around his angelic face, branches of lightening cracked around him to form a terrifying halo. Below him, his reverent epithet, the words, “Lucifer, The Morning Star, Conqueror of Earth, Harbinger of the Apocalypse”

The denizens filled the room, clad in gothic balllgowns and crimson waistcoats. The women’s hair was pinned and braided with jewels, and the men wore ostentatious rings of black diamond and silver, every outfit attempting to outdo the other. Long tables of rich food and decadent wine were placed all around. However, all eyes were focused on one man who stayed off to the side, surveying the crowd of his loyal subjects. Michael Langdon hung back from the crowd, arms behind his back in typical fashion. He was every inch an imposing, demonic king. Upon his head he wore a crown of silver thorns, entwining into three spirals at the top, tipped with rubies. His flowing, golden hair framed piercing eyes rimmed in black; black eyeshadow sexily smoked out on their corners. He wore a long, velvet coat, decorated with silver buttons and accents of leather over a black shirt with a thin mesh V sliding down his broad chest; a silver pentagram pendant around his neck, and leather boots, laced in silver.

Men and women eyed him, some with reverence, others with lust, but all watched him with hungry and desirous eyes. A particular rumor was buzzing around about the Devil’s son and the Cooperative’s plans for him, and all wanted to know how their King and Savior would go about fulfilling the plan.

But their heads turned with his as he stared awestruck at the ballroom’s threshold. Mallory stood there, escorted by Rhoda, panic seizing her as all eyes latched onto her at once. Lydia was a fast worker, though she had worked from a previously created pattern. Mallory’s gown transformed from a black satin bodice at the top to red strips swirling around the bottom like flames, her dark hair curled and done up with red jewels. She might’ve been the most simplest dressed there, but she might as well have been the only one in the room with the way Langdon’s eyes were locked on her. They tried to ignore him and continue conversation as he strolled towards her. Langdon, sensing their gaze, turned and waved them off, signaling that they best continue their revelry, and mind their own business; but some still gave Mallory dirty looks.

He appraised her; clinically, or so she thought. She balled her hands into fists, trying to hide how badly she was shaking.

“Your dress is lovely. Lydia works well under pressure.”

He tilted his head like a curious owl spying on his prey from up in his hideout; icy blue eyes drilling into her with such scrutiny that a pleasant heat pooled into her core, mixing with frozen shards of fear.

His lips pulled into a genuine smile, “May I have this dance?”

She tore her eyes away from his gaze and took his hand with trembling fingers, panic and rage swirling in her gut. Violins began their sweet, hypnotic tune. With one flowing movement, his left hand gripped her waist with a firm, but gentle touch, while gracefully whirling them onto the ballroom floor. She felt his eyes burning into the top of her head, her gaze fixed on the steps of their feet on the black marble floor.

“It’s very rude to not look your partner in the eyes.”

When she said nothing in response, he stopped abruptly. She braced for the worst, terrified that she had angered him, and would be severely punished for her insolence. Instead, his hand snaked further around her waist and up her back, drawing her closer til there was no space between them. His fingers pressed into the bare nape of her neck, a strong pressure, yet teasing. His warm, full lips made contact with the curve of her neck, pressing a tender, innocent kiss. Without her consent, a gasp of surprised pleasure escaped her throat. Within an instant he moved back to his original posture, a devious smirk adorned his face now that her eyes were well-fixed on him. His hand slipped back to her waist, but no effort was made to separate their bodies. They returned to their dancing without a word, the ghost of his lips haunting the dip of her neck.

“Did you ever dream of this when you were a child, Mallory?” He asked, his eyes lingering on her neck, brushing his tongue over his bottom lip, “Being in a beautiful gown, at a ball, in the arms of a king.”

Suddenly, a vision came upon her. Black, bat-like wings stretched out from behind Langdon’s form, spanning across the entire room. Serpentine black horns climbed from his head. His eyes became as red as blood. The same grasping darkness she’d encountered in the tunnel sprung up from the ground and entwined itself around her legs.

“And the fact that the same king holding you close,” he continued with a heady voice, “Could twitch his finger and end your existence, does that scare you?” His mouth twisted into a grin, “Excite you? You know who I am, what I am capable of,” he leaned in closer and whispered, “Are you frightened, Mallory?”

She gulped back tears, the terror threatening to overtake her. The darkness tightened its grip.

“You will speak to me,” he commanded with a dangerously gruff voice.

She grit her teeth and looked him in the eye, power coursing through her, pushing back the darkness.

“I am not afraid of you.”

When the words left her mouth, the vision vanished. The normal sights, sounds, and smells wafted all around her, bringing her back to reality. Langdon took a step back, still holding her right hand. He tilted his head in a slight bow, as if agreeing to a challenge.

“Good.”

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

DOTW 57 - Full draft

Jolted awake again, Levi growled. He was so fucking done with his boss. Sure. We can give you mental health leave, but first we need you to finish your shifts, then we need you to go see our counsellor, get declared crazy and then, we might be able to give you leave next month... and then we're going to send you to another therapist because we don't agree with the first assessment. Levi wasn't happy. He felt like a corroded rubber band stretched too tight. He couldn't stop thinking about Eren, to the point his omega had started ignoring his messages when he was supposed to start working. His fiancée was tired, and clingy, repeatedly apologising for taking up all his attention, and the repeated trips to the bathroom, that meant dozing rather than sleeping properly didn't fucking help. He was exhausted... and last night... he'd slightly over done it in the need to blow off some steam. And who could say no with Eren in their lap "Late night?" "Is it still a late night when you haven't fucking slept?" "Is Eren alright?" Eren... yeah... his omega was... "He's fine" Levi's tone was unintentionally bitter. Eren had managed to keep to the no sex memo for four days... but last night... things sort of progressed. One moment he was helping Eren lactate... purely because Eren was in so much pain... cough... the next he was buried in his sopping wet omega. And sex happened... a lot of sex happened... his dick still tender from the previous night. They'd gone at it like rabbits all over their apartment until Levi remembered, they weren't even supposed to be having sex in the first place. But by then it was a little bit late. The bed was a mess, he'd bitten Eren's nape and shoulders red, while Eren was purring up a storm "He's fine? No complications or bleeds? No fights?" Fight. Yeah. More like a fucking attack... "Erwin, he's fine. Stop it" "Mike said he's happy to examine Eren..." "I swear to god, I'll kill you" Erwin laughed, not giving two shits about his icy scowl. Couldn't bushy brows fucking let him sleep?! "Fine. Fine. Did they authorise your leave?" "Would I be here if they did? They said I have to finish my shifts and then maybe, just maybe, I'll get time off next month" "That's not right" No fucking shit "Well, apparently their shrink doesn't think I'm crazy enough" "Have you been to see Krista?" "When have I had time?" "Off shift?" "Sure. Because I don't have Eren to look after when I get home" "Hey, if you need a break, Hanji is always happy to step in" "I thought we didn't want him going into labour before 37 weeks" "Hanji's not about to send him into labour" "Sometimes I feel like we aren't talking about the same person" "She is super excited about your engagement, so you may have a point" Oh. Yeah. That was a thing. Coming home from Mike's, they'd made their engagement Facebook official, setting the date back to original date Eren had proposed. Hanji had lost her shit, spamming the fuck out of them for not telling her sooner, while Eren hadn't wanted to deal with any of it. Ignoring her completely in favour of belly rubs and cuddles. The sedatives Mike had given Eren to help him sleep helped the first two nights, though left Eren with a constant headache and nosebleed of impressive proportions, so Levi had binned them... "Did you two remember to pay Mike?" "Hanji says all bets are void thanks to you two already being engaged" "And what does Mike say?" "That I can work off my debt in his bed" Ew... he didn't need to think that "That might work with you, but what about Hanji?" "You know Mike's more than happy to let me work her debt off too" "I really didn't need to know that" "You're the one who asked" "Mostly because I'm sick of you asking about Eren" "I'm just worried for you both" "We're engaged. He's going to give birth by the end of the month. We're bonded..." "Eren is?" Levi frowned. He was certain Erwin knew, or he was fucking with him "I feel like I told you that they're going to give him a c-section before the end of the month if he doesn't go into labour" "Have you stocked up?" "On?" "Everything? Nappies? Wipes? Milk?" Levi's mind flicked to the previous night and the milk dribbling down his chin... while Eren rocked on his leg, soaking his pants with slick and cum "Organised" "How about Christmas presents? Have you got him something yet? In case he's in labour and doesn't get to celebrate Christmas at home" "He's sorting tree ornaments today. I dragged it all out for him the other day" Actually, Eren was probably sleeping. He'd asked for the tree before everything had gone down, but he'd firmly told his fiancée not to put the tree up on alone. He kind of hoped he wasn't napping, on the off chance he could get a full nights sleep "Alone?" "He's fine. Ok. My phone hasn't gone off. Your phone hasn't gone off. Mike's phone hasn't gone off. As for Christmas shopping, I showed him how to shop online" "That's him, I was asking about you" He was trying to find something perfect and it was yet to happen... "I'm getting there" "Levi..." "What the fuck do you want from me Erwin!? I'm trying my fucking hardest. They won't give me time off work. Eren needs constant attention or he'll push himself too hard. The pup's going to be here by the end of the month and I'm fucking exhausted. So just back the fuck off" Pulling off to the side of the road. Erwin climbed from the ambulance. Walking around, he opened the passenger side door "Get out" "What?" "Get out" "Why the fuck would do I do that?" "Just get out already" Cursing Erwin, Levi nearly whimpered as he jumped down from the ambiance. He was so fucking tired that everything fucking hurt. Pulling out his cigarettes, Erwin pulled two from the pack, lighting them both before handing him one "What?" "You fucking need it" "What I need is more fucking time between now and Eren going into labour" "Give him a call" "What?" "Call him and let him know you'll be home late" "He'll worry..." "And you'll explode if you keep up like this" "I don't have a fucking choice" Choking on the smoke filling his lungs, he was pretty sure the cigarette wasn't solving any off his issues, but fuck... it helped "Then I'll call him" "No. It's fine" "It's not fine. You're working yourself into..." "Give it rest" "What would Eren think?" "Erwin, I'm fucking warning you. I have a headache the size of your fucking ego" Erwin let him finish cigarette, before starting again "I'm just saying. Eren would be disappointed to see you like this. You don't have to try do this alone" "I can't fucking do anything about it. Work won't give me time off. I'm supposed to be starting parental leave next week, but that isn't happening either. And that's been booked since I came back to work" "Levi. Just stop and take a breath" "I don't have time to" "You're going to burn yourself out. What if Eren..." Erwin was sounding like a broken record. Sick of it, he opened he passenger side door, only for Erwin to stop him half way up his step. Pulled down, he growled, kicking out. Erwin gut punching him as he went... both alpha's dropping each other, because by some miracle, his foot had found Erwin's balls. Glaring at each other, Erwin was the first to crack. Starting to laugh, he clutched his crotch with a whimper "Fuck" "You asked for it" Levi felt like he was drooling like an idiot "You need to slow down" "Pup's aren't cheap" "No. But what's Eren going to do if you work yourself into a heart attack" "Then tell me what to do" "I'll talk to human resources. Give Eren a call and let him know you'll be a little late" "Fine... fuck. Between that punch and that cigarette, I would say you're trying to do me in" "I'll be nice and let you recover before you call him" "Fuck you" "Nah. You've got Eren for that" "That's true..." He didn't regret the smugness that bled into his tone. Erwin and Mike night have an open relationship of sorts, but what he had with Eren... that was something he'd never be able to put into words. Even though he'd been partially regretting the night before, one thought of Eren's dripping opening... and fuck. He wanted to be fucking buried balls deep in him. Recovered enough to crawl back into the ambulance, Levi pulled out his phone. Erwin watching as he opened up Eren's contact details and called his mate. It took a few moments before Eren answered "Levi. What's wrong?" Eren's voice was shaking "Oh. Nothing. I was just ringing to see if you're ok" "I'm ok. I was hoping you'd ring. I'm just sitting under that flocked blanket..." Eren sounded pained... he was emphasising words as in moaning in pain, without the actual moaning. Levi drew his brow in concern "Are you alright? You don't sound alright" "Like I said, I was hoping you'd ring. I really like this flocked blanket... but more importantly, what time are you getting home?" "Oh... I'm going to be a little late" "Ok. Cool. I got my first Christmas delivery today. I wasn't expecting it. But if you're going to be late, I guess it can wait" His omega was being weird "Eren. Are you sure everything's ok?" "Yeah. Take your time coming home. I know what you're like, jumping the gun and all. I love you" "I love you too" The call ended. Levi still frowning deeply "What is it? What's wrong?" "Something's off with Eren" Erwin sighed "You're probably being paranoid" "I don't know..." "What did he say?" "That he was hoping I'd ring and that he's sitting under his flocked blanket" "That doesn't sound like anything to worry about" "It's the way he said it, like he was in pain. Then he told me not to jump the gun on the way home" "We can call by, if you want?" "No. No. He said he got a Christmas delivery today. He's probably being weird because of that" "It was just weird. He started talking about how he liked his flocked blanket. He said it twice..." "Look. He probably just forgot he'd mentioned it" Levi wasn't sure. Something felt off... "It's fine. You're over thinking things. You probably feel guilty as you're doing something for yourself" "He sounded pained" "Possible Braxton-hicks, or he could have twinged his back. I bet he didn't wait to do the Christmas tree" "I wouldn't put it past him. He saved some of Isabel's old ornaments. I think Christmas is is his favourite holiday of the year" "Too bad he can't perk your mood up over it all" "I don't know. Last year was pretty good" "I seem to remember you being shoved into an ugly sweater, and not being too happy about it" "But before that, Eren was a naughty little ho. He made me birthday cake, sang happy birthday. Made a fuss about it being something other than Christmas" "So, he's busy planning this years costume?" "Not this year. He's too swollen for that" In more ways than one. Eren's back had been tender for a long time now. Maybe he had just been trying to hide how uncomfortable he really was, so that Levi wouldn't worry? If so, he'd done a fucking shit job of it. Work unfortunately picked up, and Levi swore they'd been called to the exact same house the previous year, for the exact same reason. People can't hang Christmas lights without getting the urge to throw themselves off their own roof. It was fucking frustrating. Though he'd told Erwin he'd take some time at the end of his shift, he couldn't be fucking bothered. Even if it meant possibly snapping at Eren, he was far too tired. He just wanted a fucking shower and to collapse in bed for a year. Or at least until Eren went into labour. He could barely keep his eyes open. The lights of Shinganshima seemed blinding to his poor sensitive eyes, the red brake lights in front of him were the worst. They seemed to bore right into his brain. Parking in his bay, Levi literally fell out his car. He was fucking dead on his feet. If Eren wanted sex or cuddles, he was going to have to do all the work while Levi slept. Or maybe he could play with his toys... shit. No. He wanted to watch that. Locking his car, the alpha made the conscious effort to drag himself towards the elevator. The stupid thing way too far away from his parking bay. Prodding the shitty button, Levi hefted out a groan. It annoyed him to no end when people continued to poke at buttons once pressed, like in elevators or at crosswalks, but today he just wanted the stupid thing to reach the parking basement already. Too tried for his senses to realise anything was wrong, Levi didn't even feel it coming until an arm wrapped around his neck, a hand over his mouth as something was burning at his nose and throat. Kicking and snarling, whoever behind him was wearing a scent canceller, and way bigger than he was. He felt like a small pup in their arms as he was lifted by his neck... unconscious before he even know what happened to him. * Growling his was back into consciousness, Levi felt like someone had taken a baseball bat to his head... and the rest of him. Instinctively, he tried to raise his hand to his aching head, only to find he couldn't move. Snapping his eyes open, Levi growled again. His gut felt like it was on fire. His back and hips throbbing in time with his own heartbeat "There he is. You took so long, I thought you were going to miss the main event" Levi froze. He knew that voice. Sucking a deep breath down, he nearly heaved at the stink in the air. God. What the fuck had happened to him? Blinking, the world slowly came into focus. Strapped down to the dining chair he was in, Eren was staring at him with pained eyes. Something was wrong with his mate. He could smell it. He could feel it. With Eren to his left, he swallowed hard as he looked to the right, vomiting into his mouth as he did. A very dead Bertholdt sat there... fuck. Fuck... at the opposite end, the head of the clumsily dressed table, sat Reiner. The gun in the man's hand was pointed right at Eren "What the fuck?! How fucking dare you come into our fucking apartment and how fucking dare you point a gun at my fucking mate! I'm going to fucking kill you!" Struggling against his bindings, Reiner just laughed "Now, is that anyway to treat your host. Maybe I need to give you a lesson in manners?" Levi's eyes narrowed, his chest heaving as he panted and growled "I'm going to fucking kill you!" Lowering the gun beneath the table, Reiner pulled the trigger. Eren's shriek only angered him further as flash of pain flashed his gut "What was that? Need I remind you, I have the power here" "Leave him alone!" "Why would I do that? Did he tell you what he did? What his father did? He took my mate away, and now I'm going to make him watch as I take his away" Eren shrieked "You killed by fucking brother!" "You killed my fucking mate" Rising from the table, Reiner walked around to wrap his arms around Bertholdt. Stroking the corpses stringy hair, he looked so pained "He didn't want things to be like this. Why did you do it Eren? Why did he have to die?" "He tried to kill me! He tried to kill my baby! You were there! You could have stopped him!" "And what? They would have killed us!" "You were helping them torture omegas!" "We had no choice!" "You always have a choice!" "Like you. You could have kept your mouth shut. You could have handed over your baby. But the moment you found out you were pregnant, it became the Eren show all over again. You know what you are? You're a parasite. You suck the life from all those around you. Your mum. Your dad. Your brother. Your friends. And those omegas. What do you think happened to those omegas? Do you really think the church let them go so easily? All you did was lead them to their slaughter!" Eren paled, his omega shaking his head "No! No. We helped them!" "You helped them to their death. Their rotten bloated corpses are still in that forest. All those children are dead because you selfishly wanted your child. Bertholdt is dead because of you! Why should you get to be engaged?! Why should you get to be with happy? You did this Eren! You killed them! You killed him!" "All I wanted was to go home! I wanted them to go home! Bertholdt was the one who came after me! He could have run! You both could have escaped while the main building burnt! You had to know they were all dead in there! You had to know dad killed them..." "What home? Tell me Eren, what home do you think that cattle had? You ruined their lives. You ruin everything. You're fucking ruined everything! Now you're going to sit there while your pup dies inside you. Then, you're going to watch as I kill your mate" Lifting Bertholdt's rotting body, the stench was incredible. Eren throwing up down his side, while Levi fought not to. Reiner had lost his mind with grief. He was an alpha who'd lost his mate and lost his mind as he did. Carrying Bertholdt from the room, Levi renewed his struggles. He needed to get Eren the fuck out of here "Eren, what happened? Are you ok? Did he hurt you?" "He... I thought it was something I ordered... please tell me you called Floch?!" "What? What does Floch have to do with this?" Eren groaned "Really?! I tried to fucking tell you!" "You didn't!..." "You really think I was talking about Floch-ed blankets for nothing! Or gunning home?!" Levi groaned at himself "I thought you were the smart one!" "Me! Why didn't you just... fucking tell me you were in trouble!" "He has a fucking gun! I tried!" Eren whimpered, his head rolling back "Eren?" "Don't fucking talk to me!" "Don't yell at me!" "Fuck off!" "What are you getting so mad at me for? It's not my fault I didn't get your cryptic fucking message" "What was I supposed to say? Reiner was right there?" "I don't know! Just... how's the pup?" "Oh. Fan-fucking-tastic!" Levi almost would have preferred Eren was mute. His throbbing head would have. Sighing angrily, he stopped struggling. He needed to think... "Can you move?" Eren glared at him "Can you move, or not?" "Not" "Fuck. Fuck! My head hurts too fucking much to think clearly" "I don't want to hear it" "Who's fault do you think it is? You're the one who wanted to fuck! And your constant trips to the bathroom!" "Excuse me for being fucking pregnant! At least I won't be for much longer!" Levi snarked "What's that supposed to mean?" "Oh, you know. I'm in labour, but I guess that's something you don't care about" "You're in labour?! Now? Seriously?" Oh fuck... "I'm sorry! You try having your head slammed against the ground and gun shoved in your fucking face. You're stress levels tend to shoot right the fuck up! God! Please tell me you can get out of that chair" "Do I look like I can?" "You're an alpha! I know you're strong" The plastic ties around his wrists had already cut in. The blood making things slippery, but there just wasn't enough give "I'm trying to figure this out" "Well try harder" "You try harder! You're the one that was awake" "I did try!" Levi scoffed. He was royally pissed, but if he kept Eren mad at him, his mate might just stay angry enough to help him find a way out this... Eren definitely smelt angry enough... They didn't have time to be sitting there like fucking idiots. Eren needed a hospital. He needed professional medical help. Even if something where to happen to him, he couldn't let his omega give birth in a place like this "Sure you did" "Fuck you!" "Do you know where we are, at least?" "Yeah. We're trapped with a psychopath" "Jesus Christ, Eren. I'm trying to fucking think here!" "Well think faster!" "I'm thinking!" "And I'm..." Eren shut his mouth as Reiner returned. The alpha stalking over to his mate, before backhanding him hard enough that Eren, and the chair he was strapped to, tipped sideways. Screaming, couldn't protect himself as Reiner laid into his face "Stop it! You're killing him!" Snarling as he turned his murderous gaze to Levi, Reiner dropped his bloody fist to his side "You're right. I can't have him dying before you do" Stepping over Eren, Reiner ran his fingers through his hair "It takes a certain kind of person to love some thing like this. I suppose he's told you all about the time he spent living with us. The tight little outfits he'd wear. The way he'd climb into bed with Zeke. The sounds he'd make through his heat, only letting Zeke touch him... he enjoyed being in his brother's bed. He enjoyed giving himself to us... How can you love such a loose omega? Though. That arse of his... so fucking hot and wet" Levi couldn't help himself. He laughed. Reiner was trying to get under his skin, but fuck. Really? "The way I heard it, you never stood a chance. That's why you had to settle for another alpha. No omega was satisfied with that pimple you call a dick. Tell me. Did you really make Bertholdt happy? Or were you just a convenient hole to fuck" Reiner's fist slammed into his face "Don't you fucking talk about him!" "What? Hit a nerve? Stuck knowing you'd never have an omega of your own. You'd never have Eren to yourself. You'd never have his love so you had to settle for second best" Reiner roared "It wasn't like that!" "Really? It sounds to me like you're trying to convince yourself of that..." Grabbing him by the hair, Reiner slammed his head against the edge of the table. Eren screaming at Reiner to stop, like that was actually going anything. Throwing him back, Levi hit the floor. The chair underneath him cracking from the weight and impact. Sitting blood from his mouth, Levi smirked "A little too close to the truth. Did he love you? Did you two fight over Eren? Or didn't you know Bertholdt was going to buy him off Zeke" Levi had no idea who the fuck Zeke planned to sell Eren too... buuuut... "Shut the fuck up! I was going to wait. Let you see that dead bastard of yours, but now you just keep talking... Maybe Eren will bare my pup next. Bertholdt would have been such a good mother" Pulling his gun back out, Reiner didn't even hesitate as he shot him through the left thigh. Levi couldn't stop the strangle scream that escaped as the pain assaulted him. Fucking shit. The pig had actually shot him?! Had he shot Eren too? Or just as their feet? Looking for his mate, there was an alarmingly amount of something pooled around his omega. He needed out "Oh look at you. A big boy because you've got a little gun? You don't fucking scare me" "Is that right?" The next shot went right through the middle of Levi's left hand. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Fucking fuck fuck "This house... this house was going to be our family home... we thought we'd escaped Zeke. But he just couldn't leave it alone..." Tears filled Reiner's eyes, leaving Levi feeling like he'd caught a glimpse of something he wasn't supposed to be. Growling as he recovered, Reiner booted him solidly in the side of the abdomen "This wasn't how it was supposed to go! We were kids! No one cared what we wanted!" Whimpering, Eren caught Reiner's attention. Turning from him Levi nearly passed out from the pain of his fucked up hand, tearing up against the restraints as the wood had been shattered by the bullet. He now has enough give to get one hand free... kind of... the plastic had cut in so deeply, and his hand was so fucked, that all movement was clumsy and uncoordinated "Bertholdt loved you..." Whimpering the words, Reiner sank down beside Eren "What the fuck did you just say?" "Bertholdt loved you... he... he told me that he..." Eren's sentence trailed off, his mate coughing. Grabbing him by the neck, Reiner snarled into his face "What the fuck did he tell you?!" Oh hell no. Uh uh. Now that he was on his way to freedom, Reiner was not touching his omega like that. He didn't care how fucking uncomfortable or how much it fucking hurt. It wasn't fucking happening! "Eren! What did he say!?" Struggling with renewed vigour, all Levi could focus on was his rage. He wanted Reiner dead. He wanted his hands off Eren and the man dead! Ripping free his right hand, he scrambled to work at his ankles. His actions turning Reiner's attention back on him. Coldly, and without releasing his hold on Eren's neck, Reiner fired his third shot into him, Levi's eyes widened as the pain bloomed in his right side, and stayed wide as Eren plunged as piece of chair arm into Reiner's neck "How dare you touch my fucking alpha!" Dropping the gun and releasing Eren in surprise, both Reiner's hands went to his neck. The man visibly swallowing as he tried to figure out what the fuck had happened. Abandoning his ankles, Levi wriggled, dragging the chair with him as he went for the gun. Reiner lunging the same time Eren tore the wood from his neck, spraying bright red blood up and across the wall. Stabbing down again, the alpha backhanded Eren so hard the crack echoed in the space. Blood bubbled at Reiner's moving lips... the alpha looking so shocked and hurt by Eren's actions that it was almost comical... Levi might have laughed if it wasn't for his own shock. Seeing someone die, and being completely responsible for their death were two unbelievably different things. He wouldn't allow Eren to carry the sin of killing Reiner. He wouldn't allow him to carry that stain on his heart forever. Using the tips of his fingers to pull the gun closer with his left hand, he damn near ended up looking like a turtle as he grabbed it with his right, and fired blindly at Reiner until the gun clicked empty and everything fell silent "Eren?!" Not getting a reply, Levi lost his shit completely. The plastic ties cutting deeply into his hand as he fought to free his ankles, his side hurting so fucking badly that he wanted to throw up, but his heart and mind were racing with a need to get to Eren. Finally freed, Levi dragged himself up, stumbling then tripping over the sack of shit formerly known as Reiner. Landing by mate, he gasped in pain... and not just at his own pain. He'd been wearing his work uniform when he'd been taken. His thick pants and thin shirt offering some tiny measure of protection against the cables. Eren didn't have that. He was simply wearing the same shirt and underwear he'd been in when Levi left for work. His mate had struggled so hard, the plastic ties had cut in deep enough to start "degloving" the skin around his ankles bunched in a way that made him see black for an instant. God. It was revolting and barbaric. Holding his left arm to his stomach protectively, he crawled up Eren's side. Between his legs was wet with blood, way too much blood... but as he kept going, he almost wished Eren was staring at him "Eren?" "It hurts... the baby... he's..." "Shhhh. I know it hurts. I know, but we need to get you out of here. Can you do that, for me?" Shit... moving... he didn't want to keep moving. He needed to dress his own wounds... if he bled out, he'd be no fucking help to Eren Eren sniffled softly as he gave a tiny nod "I need to find a knife or something. Something to cut you free. I'll be right back. Ok" "L-Lee... what about you?" "I've got this" "Liar..." "Let me get you out, then we'll go from there" * Freed from his constraints, Eren was in better shape than Levi. His alpha stripping off his ruined shirt to dress his wounds. His alpha pale and drenched it sweat, his pain flowing through their bond... which meant Levi definitely had to be feeling the pain he was in. He needed to push. The feeling only growing, but there was no way he was giving birth to his pup here. He wasn't having his pup come into the world here "Eren!" Clicking his fingers, Eren blinked at Levi "You're going to have to help me here" "Right..." "Does Reiner a phone or anything? Do you have your phone?" "N-no... it's at home" "Fuck... right, I know it hurts but we're getting out of here..." * They made it to the door before Levi had to go and faint. His alpha was drenched in sweat, his breathing ragged as Eren was forced to drag Levi out the front door. He mentally apologised as Levi smacked into the doorway, he only one hand to use to use, the other clutching his stomach. The need to fucking push was all the could concentrate on as it was, but he was definitely not giving birth in Reiner's fucked up house of horrors. Levi was lucky he'd been unconscious, he'd missed Reiner fawning over Bertholdt... climbing into the lap of his mate's corpse at the dinner table and yeah... no... Dragging Levi down the front step, his legs gave out, squashing his alpha as he fell on him. Levi letting out a soft growl as he tried to push him off "Eren?" "L-Lee... I need to push..." "Shit... shit... did I faint?" "Ye.... ahhhh.... fuck..." His contractions hurt so fucking much "Eren... ok... I need... to... to look at you. Are you sure you need to push?" Levi was struggling to breathe, while Eren felt like a beached whale on top of him "Of course I'm fucking sure! God... Levi... it hurts so much... something's wrong with him" "Ok... just let me do my job" "I... think..." "It's ok. It's ok, we can do this" Giving birth in an a some overgrown front yard was not part of his birth plan. Nor was Levi silently crying as he peeled Eren's ruined underwear off him. He knew he was bleeding. He could feel himself bleeding. Reiner had gut punched him, there'd been a kind of "pop" feeling, then... he had no idea how long he'd been with Reiner... it hadn't been that long after Levi left. Reiner had started screaming at him about how it wasn't fair he was engaged... and how he'd tried to ignore him... but then Bertholdt had died and he knew what he had to do... he'd lost his mate and his mind. Eren could smell the deep pain coming from Reiner. He wanted to help him... but he'd lost that chance when he'd fucking shot his mate "Eren... I need you to keep breathing for me, just like that" He wasn't sure he was breathing. He was on his back, but that was uncomfortable as fuck... and he was so fucking tired "I... can't do this..." "It's ok... just don't push" "I need to push" "Eren, you're not dilated enough..." His body wasn't exactly programmed not to push. Especially when his contractions were nearly atop each other. His back felt like it was about to snap... sobbing, he shook his head "I can't do this... I can't..." "You can. You'll be ok... you'll..." Levi coughed, blood dribbling from his alpha's lips. Watching Levi wiping the back of his lips with his hand, Eren cried hard "I can't... I..." He really had to push. Trying to breathe through it, he bored down with all he could. He could feel himself tearing as he screamed "Eren! Stop!" His scream stopped as he slumped back "You're not dilated enough... I know you want to push... I know, but you can't yet... shit... shit... the blood won't stop..." Babbling Levi's name, he waited for the next proper contraction to start... beginning to push again "Eren! Stop... stop. You're bleeding too much..." Eren had already run out of fucks to give. He'd stopped feeling his baby moving after Reiner hit him... right now, he didn't care if he died. He just wanted his pup to live... Reiner was right. He ruined everything... Levi had gotten hurt because of him. His pup was probably dead because of him... he never did anything right and he'd never accomplished anything in his life. All the time he'd spent studying. All the time he'd spent dancing. All the time and money Levi had poured into him to help him... and he was just nothing... * Blood wouldn't stop spilling from between Eren's legs. Each time Eren pushed, Levi watched as his omega tore deeper, more blood spilling onto the path beneath him. Trying to stop the bleeding with Eren's ruined underwear wasn't helping, and the tears flowing thickly down his face as he sobbed made it hard to see. Eren was fucking dying in front of him. Eren and his pup were dying... his alpha was screaming at him to save their mate, to save their pup... but the blood wouldn't stop. His arms were covered in it. Eren was covered in it. Howling, he felt so fucking useless. Eren was still struggling. Still trying to birth their pup... hanging his head, he didn't know what to do. White noise had filled his head... blocking out the pained way Eren was whispering his name over and over. Slumping sideways, he couldn't stop himself. He was supposed to be the strong one. He was the fucking alpha. He was supposed to protect Eren from all the horror in this world... Laying on his back, Levi stared up the sky. It'd been late when he'd left work, and now the sun was up... how fucking long had he been here? Wherever here was? Why hadn't he figured out Eren's message? His omega had tried to warn him. He'd tried to tell him Reiner was their was a gun, and that he needed to ring Floch. Why the shit was the sky so blue? And why did the sun feel so cold... his eyes slowly slid closed... he just wanted to be with Eren. If god or whoever was listening, he prayed they'd let him see his mate again. Eren was the love of his life... and he might not believe in resurrection, but if they could be born again, he'd want to be a bird... because Eren would like that. Eren would love to see the whole wide world. "Levi!" Sucking in a huge breath, Levi was confused as fuck. Erwin's shitty face hovered in front of him, swinging like a pendulum, in and out of focus. Coughing, it turned to a groan as he tried to curl around his stomach "Don't move... you're going to be ok, you stupid arseholes" "E-Eren..." Trying to look past Erwin, he could see the basic blur of their uniform... "No. Focus on me for now" "Eren..." "Levi. Focus. I need you to stay awake. They're are working on Eren... How did this happened?" Coughing again, he choked on his own spit "Hold on, I've got you" Lifted by Erwin's stupidly thick arms, Levi felt like a rag doll in his hold. Carried away from his mate, he whined in distress "Eren would want someone working on you" "How... the... fuck... are-you-here?" "I couldn't get Eren's phone call out of my head. I went to your apartment, and you were gone... the only thing left was blood on the sofa and the smell of a scared omega in labour. I couldn't smell you at all, so I called the hospital, you weren't there. It didn't sit right with me... so I called Floch. He traced your car's GPS to the next suburb over. He knew Bertholdt had died... he was in custody of the Karanes Police, but comatose... they had no idea where Reiner was. This place was brought by a company under the name of the "The Church". They searched it before and it's been left like this since" Erwin talked way too fucking much. He could tell his friend was scared by the way his tone was clipped as he seemed to jump from sentence to sentence. Hauled into the back of the ambulance, Levi shivered as his back hit the cold floor "You look like shit" "Next time I get shot, I'll try and make it pretty" "How bad is it?" "Not great. Through and through left hand, left thigh. Right side entry would, I don't think it exited" Erwin swore, rummaging through the drawers for gauze "How the fuck are you conscious?" "I was busy dying... I just want to be with Eren" "You're not fucking dying" "Please, Erwin. You need to take care of him. He's all I have" "He's not all you have. You have him and your pup" "Is he... is he alive?" "You're having a boy?" "Y-yeah... when Eren found out, he was so happy..." Shit. He could almost see Eren's smiling face. He'd said he'd wanted it so bad that he'd made it happen, even if they both knew it wouldn't work that way... "He was such a cute kid..." "Then let's hope the pup looks more like him than you" "I know..." Shit... he could barely keep his eyes open... "Keep talking to me. Do you have names picked out?" "No... not yet" "Erwin's a great name" "I'm not cursing my kid with eyebrows like that" "At least I don't look constipated... fuck, up you go" Levi was confused as he dragged up, that was until the gurney was slid into the back of the ambulance. His eyes on Eren. Erwin growling as moved the EMT out the way. He'd thought them paramedics... why was he even thinking about this...? "How is he?" "He's bleeding out..." "Switch with me. Pad the bleed on the right side. Bullets still inside him" He didn't want some stranger touching him, but Erwin had moved to Eren. That was good. Leaning down, he stroked Eren's hair "Hey. It's going to be ok" His mate was awake? "How's the pup?" "Breach birth. If we don't get to hospital soon..." Erwin cut him off, moving to examine Eren "I'll take over here. Eren, it's Erwin. It's going to be ok. You and your pup are going to be ok" His mate didn't smell ok. He smelt... if Levi had to describe it, like death. It was something beyond pained and into the realm of nothingness "E-Erwin?" "He's trying to birth the pup, but he's just not strong enough. Eren. Eren. I need you to stop trying to push" "He's supposed to have a c-section" "It's too late for that, he's already starting to crown. Eren, I need you to take a few deep breaths. We need you to gather some strength up. Get him a pain whistle. Levi's right here, ok. He's ok. I'm going to try my fucking hardest for you and your pup" "Let me at him..." "Levi, you need to stay still" "Let me hold his hand! He's my goddamn mate!" The EMT looked to Eren, before Erwin nodded. Helped to sit by his omega, he buried his face against Eren's neck "You've got this. I'm right here" "Levi...?" "I'm here. I'm here. You're going to be ok" "It hurts... so much" "I know. I know, baby. I love you" Eren was still struggling through his labour when they reached the hospital. Each time he pushed, he cried out in pain. Levi holding one hand, while watching as Eren was forced open by their son, the tears growing before his eyes. Blood and birth didn't seem to end, nor did the cum oozing from Eren's limp dick as the pup stimulated his prostate. It was clear his mate was not enjoying himself in the slightest. He'd heard some omegas found birth erotic. Right now, Levi wished he was the kind of alpha who could look away. His mate was going to be butt hurt for the next century. Erwin's fingers delved into his mate's heat, his arse not as supple and forgiving as a bitches sex organ. The tiny boy's shoulders getting stuck, while Eren didn't have the strength to push any harder. Still. Eren kept breathing and pushing, his hold on Levi's good hand crushing. They'd barely made it though the glass doors before Eren let out an almighty howl. His back arching off the bed before he slumped back down. His doey eyes glossed over with pain. Kneeling on the bed, Erwin yelled to stop. The flurry of medical staff around them all seemed as confused as Levi was "Erwin!" "Come on... come on..." Climbing off the bed, Erwin stood at the edge. Levi couldn't take it. Snarling at the staff trying to help him, he abandoned his wheelchair. Someone grabbing at his arm, but he shook them off. Making it to Eren's side, he grabbed for Erwin. The man clearing the face of his tiny son with one hand, while massaging his chest with his other. His pup... the tiny boy was absolutely perfect... "Come on..." "Lee?" "He's beautiful. He's beautiful, Eren" "C-can I... see..." "Come on!" Pushing harder on the pups chest, the infant let out a tiny squeak... Levi's stupidly addled mind now releasing the boy hadn't been breathing. How Eren was conscious, he had no clue. His stats were spiralling downwards... "He's beautiful... you did so good. So good, brat. Erwin, he needs to see him" Delivering the afterbirth while Erwin worked, it was a mess as Eren was shown their new born son. His mate's face lighting up with an exhausted smile "Thank... god" Erwin barely gave them half a moment, before yelling "We need to move! Eren's still bleeding..." Levi really didn't mean to pass out, but his pup was born. His omega in hospital... and he was just so fucking tired.