#just going through my morning fangs of fortune feelings again

[incandescentflower]

noooo just saw a gif set of when Xiao Zhuo was attacked with all the produce and it hurt me physically

[sparrowrye]

Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, part 23

Synopsis: soulmate AU where you have the same mark on your body as your soulmate, and if your soulmate dies, you die too. Alastor needs to make sure that his soulmate is safe so he can continue his reign - whatever that takes. Though it looks like we have a couple secrets of our own.

Previous part

Part 23: the starting works

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I lowered my head so the sun didn't blind me through the brush. My nose flared as I drew in my prey's scent. They were completely unaware of my presence, unaware that their life was about to end. My claws punctured the soft earth and I leaned back on my haunches.

I sprang.

My bad leg pinched, causing me to land a hair before my prey. They jumped and zipped through the forest with a squeal. I gave chase on all fours until I was in my full dragon form. I weaved through the trees with ease as I ignored the small pains throughout my body. I wasn't fully recovered but that couldn't stop me.

My prey tripped and rolled several paces. I lunged and landed firmly on its head. I stepped back to look at the dead rabbit. It's energy faded from its body and snaked its way through my nose and into my head. I felt ready to keep running.

I laid down and sank my teeth into the soft, fuzzy flesh. The blood pooled in my mouth and oozed down the back of my throat. It wasn't nearly as good as a Demon's blood. It was thinner and had a bitter taste to it. It was like the comparison of eating bone broth to actual soup. It soothed the hunger pains but wasn't actually filling.

It had been a week after my incident. I would wake up in the middle of night craving the blood. I had dreams and nightmares about the killing, even messing with my memories from the ring fights. The nightmares were horribly gruesome and I couldn't believe that my mind was actually producing these images. I was eating limbs and sucking blood until their skin went pale. I was horrified at myself.

I mostly felt the cravings at night or early in the morning after my gruesome dreams. After the second day I was pulling out my hair and trying to suck on my own blood just to stop it. It actually hurt when I didn't have anything. It felt like my veins were being thinned and my muscles would tense until they were rock solid.

Fortunately, in my fit of furry, I had run into the forest and caught a bat between my fangs. Its blood instantly soothed the tense muscles and I felt like I could breathe again. So I made it a habit to go hunting in the mornings for small creatures like rabbits or squirrels. A single creature could suffice the hunger pains for the day until the following morning.

Husker knew what was happening. When I asked him about it, he told me that he didn't have this issue. It was something he knew Alastor had to deal with as well, hence his broadcasts and constant victims.

Another wonderful thing I get to share with him.

I asked Husker to keep my hunting a secret from Alastor. He was always making comments about my 'desires' and I wasn't about to let him know he was actually right. So Husker sat on the porch and waited for me to return every morning.

I swallowed the last of the rabbit and forced myself to feel satisfied, to no avail. I shifted into my Demon form and wiped my lips of the bitter blood. My eyes blinked back to their normal color.

****

Husker and I sat in the library with a radio on the desk. Outside was wet and cold. A rainstorm had come through from the sea and pelted the side of the house relentlessly. It knocked on the library windows, unable to get in. Husker was changing the radio stations every so often.

The broadcast about Demon-kind had aired only a few days ago. Everyone was in an uproar. Vox had used his broadcast to show them the physical difference between Slight magic, Full magic, and Demon magic. Alastor's had been more informative and gave more finite details.

Humans weren't happy. There were countless radio shows and other tv news where the reporters went back and forth about the topic. Some people were angry that they kept the truth hidden for hundreds of years, while others were angry that Demons were showing their true forms around and acting 'above them'. In my opinion, Demons always did that but people just assumed it was a personality trait.

We always kept the radio nearby to listen in. Some cities tried banning Demons and those with Full magic as a whole. Others formed groups to hunt them down but it didn't last very long. Overlords had enough manpower and magic to stop any hunting party, making others less willing to try that tactic again.

Even so, the death rate in this nation skyrocketed. From hunting parties to riots to territory battle to everything, people and Demons alike were getting killed.

This stirred up a lot of political issues too. On this part of the map, towns and cities operated much in the same way and all followed standard protocols for everything - something created long ago before the Great Collapse. Now, rules were being changed left and right without warning and proper justice wasn't so proper anymore.

According to Alastor everything was going as planned. The disruption and confusion left the Humans divided, meaning most of the Demon population was safe.

Most.

I didn't realize how many were dying, or how exactly, until I received a visit from the princess of Hell herself. She, Vaggie, Husker, and Alastor were chatting in the sitting room when I walked down the stairs. She greeted me with a hug and insisted I call her Charlie instead of princess. Fortunately, she was moving so fast that I didn't have to figure out how to return the hug. It still made me uncomfortable.

"Finally, someone who actually cares about Demon-kind," Vaggie remarked, casting a glare in Alastor's direction. He stood with his arms behind his back, like always, and his smile widened at her comment.

"Did something happen?" I asked. I was in my Human form as were Charlie and Vaggie.

"Hell is getting overrun with Demons," Charlie answered, "It was already overpopulated but now there's more and more Demons running back to escape Humans."

"The humans haven't rioted though. Sure some towns are doing it but nothing big," I said.

"It's been fairly decent from what we've heard on the radio," Husker added.

"Not in other places around the world," Vaggie said.

"Across the ocean Humans are coming together and hunting down anyone with Full magic." She looked so pained as she spoke. "Full magic Humans are being killed left and right, and Demons are running back to Hell and making it way overcrowded."

"What's uh...what's...what's your father doing?" I asked, unsure of how I was supposed to refer to him.

"He's locked in his room trying to figure out a way to handle it. Buildings are being built way high up to accommodate more people and some Overlords are straight up just killing anyone who walks in their territory."

"I don't see the problem," Alastor interjected, "Hell's Overlords surely sound like they're doing their part. I know Cannibal Town is doing well."

"That's not the point!" Charlie and I said at the same time, in different tones. Hers was more ecstatic and mine was a growl. Everyone looked between the two of us, just as shocked as we were. Niffty broke the silence as she chased a bug through the sitting room.

"What about the ring fights?" I looked to Husker. "Are those still active or are they killing the champions? They tend to be Full mages."

Husker shrugged. "I know as much as you since we threw out my phone." After my incident, Husker immediately threw his phone into the ocean. We weren't about to risk him getting to me again. Apparently, Vox was trying to use me to force Alastor not to broadcast until after Vox had done his. I discovered this was a petty rivalry.

I scratched the back of my neck. "They probably killed any children who showed signs of having Full magic. Or even the police went after some rings and just killed any and all of the fighters. That would be the easy way to go about it."

"There has to be something we can do. Demons and innocent Humans are being killed. All because of us." Charlie put both hands over her chest and looked down. Vaggie put a hand on her shoulder as comfort.

I was surprised to see the princess of Hell acting like this. I was expecting her to be just as bad, if not worse, than the likes of Alastor. Yet here she was worrying over the death of Demons and Humans. It was hard to believe she was heir to throne of Hell.

A thought came to mind. My thought. This could be the perfect opportunity to separate from Alastor, to put my plan into action. It was way earlier than I expected but I wasn't about to pass it up.

"What about...a safe haven? A sanctuary of sorts?" I offered. Everyone's eyes fell on me. Alastor pressed through my shields as his eyes narrowed. "You've already done something similar."

"You mean make another hotel?" she asked.

"More like a city. Take over a city and let the persecuted come to us. There's more space up here to expand."

"And fix the relationship between Humans and Demons since even Full mage Humans are being attacked," Vaggie said.

"Yeah...yeah that could work!" Charlie's eyes lit up and she seemed to radiate sunlight.

"Defending it would be a problem, though," Husker sipped on his alcohol. "It paints a big red target for Humans to team up against."

"That's true." Charlie started to pace.

"Fear is a great tool for controlling people's actions," Alastor said, placing a hand on my shoulder. My fingers fluttered as our energy shot through my body. I plucked his hand off my shoulder as Charlie spoke.

"That's not really what we're trying to do..."

"But it might be necessary at first," Vaggie moved her hand to Charlie's back, "as much as I don't want to agree with him." Alastor's smile widened.

"The Radio and Snake Demon aren't exactly something most people want to piss off," Husker added. My pride swelled a little.

"Would people even want to come if they knew he was involved? Would they be too scared?" I questioned, positioning myself so I could see Alastor fully in view.

"Maybe not if we really push that he won't kill anyone at the Safe Haven," Vaggie crossed her arms as she looked at him.

"I make no such promises," he laughed, "but those in the Safe Haven would be far from the top of my list."

"Where would even have it?" I asked, ignoring him, "What city would we use?"

"We could build it here," Niffty appeared behind me. She twiddled into the middle of the circle and looked up at Charlie. "We have a big ocean behind us and a big forest between here and the closest town. Easily defendable." She spoke so quickly but everyone had managed to catch it.

"She's got a point." Husker took another sip.

"We'd have to actually build it here, though. As opposed to finding a city or even one of the old abandoned ones to use instead. We'd have a framework."

"True, but it might not be nearly as defendable," Vaggie reasoned. "Are those buildings even safe? I've seen all over social media about them collapsing from how old they are. Our buildings would be knew and could stand for much longer."

I opened my mouth to counter it but Charlie beat me to it, "We'll have to work out the logistics later. I need to talk to my dad first."

She and Vaggie went to the cliff and teleported back to Hell, leaving a different scorch mark in the earth. I closed the back door and walked right into Alastor who had been standing behind me.

"What?" I demanded.

"You had a similar plan, already."

My eyes narrowed as I tried to keep my cover. He must've seen my memories when we touched earlier. "And what if I did?" I pushed past him and walked through the library.

His shadow slipped past my feet and he formed in front of me, hands resting on his cane and his body leaning forward. "You still seem to think you belong anywhere but my side."

"I'm not a tool to be used, Alastor." It felt strange using his name like that. "My lifespan just got hundreds of years added onto it. You really think I want to spend all that time with you?" My heart was racing at the confrontation.

"I think you'll find it rather hard to live without me."

I braced for something as I walked past him to the stairs. "Oh yeah? Why's that?"

Without turning, he asked, "How are your cravings?"

I stopped in my tracks. His laugh made me grimace for stopping. Now he knew. Of course he would know. How long did I really think I could hide it?

"Those little animals aren't nearly as fulfilling, are they?" My ears twitched as I heard him walk up behind me. I turned to face him and he stretched a sharp claw towards my chin. "They just don't cut it. Wouldn't you agree?"

"No." I carefully pushed his hand away. "They work just fine."

He chuckled again and straightened up. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, darling. It's merely a diet."

"It's more than just that. And it is something to be ashamed of."

"What is the difference between a Human or Demon to a rabbit or squirrel?" he asked.

I fell silent. I didn't have an answer to her than that Humans and Demons were intelligent, that I had my own morals I was wrestling with already. Adding this just made things worse.

I was staring at the ground when he grabbed my chin and tilted it up towards him. The energy bounced between us again and I could tell he was getting a high from it. "You need only ask, darling, and I will provide you with what you need."

I jerked my head away, severing the contact. "I won't need it." I stormed up the stairs to my room.

"We shall see."

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

Author's Note:

Well well well, here ya go. I have nothing to say except I really liked writing that last part :P

[moefongo]

Sorry for using an ask, but my app wouldn't let me make a submission for some reason. Writing through the block is always the best method, take that crap head-on. If you feel like it, what about how the various bachelor's react to the supposed death of builder (after they've been romanced) from the new update.

If you feel like it, no rush, and even if you don't, thanks anyway! Have a lovely day!

Don't worry anon, tumblr is weird like that. And yeah you're right I've even worked on really old asks i had half way through because i couldn't bring myself to write anything and its worked so far! And this is right up my alley since I do love some angst, though i wont write for Fang since I have a whole fic dedicated to this and Justice since I have something related to this for him as well, so I hope its ok w you!

Oh yeah and if you want a whole fic about any of these im down to do it lol

The bachelors (romanced) reacting to the builder's death (Part 1)

I'm putting this under a cut for spoilers!

(Also trigger warning for suicidal thoughts and mentions of suicide its nothing too explicit but i just want to make sure to tag things properly! If you want me to add any other tag let me know, thanks!)

Arvio

They had told him the night before that they had an important mission with the Civil Corps early in the morning and Arvio had a terrible feeling about it ever since they told him. He barely slept that night, he even prayed to the Light to keep them safe. Which is something he never does since Arvio isn't really a man of religion, but he really wanted them to be safe.

The next day, everything was normal and he hoped everything went well with the builder so he went to work as usual since he had no choice but to wait for them to visit him after the mission was over. They never really told him what it was, just that it was related to Logan. The morning passed quickly, but there was an unpleasant atmosphere in town that day. It wasn't even 1 pm when Justice told Arvio the terrible news. He had been the first to know and the town followed suit when Arvio's screaming and crying could be heard all over Sandrock. 

Arvio wanted to die in that same moment that Justice finished talking, he just wanted to run and jump off the same cliff they fell from and join them. He couldn't bear to accept the fact that they're gone. 

Things got so intense with Arvio that Fang had to go and sedate him. Fortunately the builder came back relatively unscathed aside from a few cuts and bruises and found out about what happened with Arvio and decided to stay with him until he woke up. 

Once he did, he swore that it was the builder's spirit visiting and since he was still a bit loopy he broke down to cry again despite the builder hugging him so he could feel that they were there with him. Then when he came back to his senses, Arvio refused to leave the builder alone and forbade the Civil Corps from taking them to dangerous missions again.

Burgess

This surely had to be a bad joke, Burgess knew nothing could happen to the builder. He had been praying all morning for their well being so it was impossible for them to have passed.

But no matter how many times Matilda or Miguel explained it to him, the poor soul always remained optimistic on their return, hoping that the builder would prove them wrong and come back to Burgess's side. 

 However deep down, way below that denial, Burgess knew that his prayers went unheard and that the Light abandoned him just when he needed it the most. He prayed and prayed for a safe return and all he got was condolences. 

 Burgess did cry and uncharacteristically questioned the Light's reason for their passing and no matter how many times Miguel or Matilda told him that it had been the Light's purpose, Burgess refused to accept it. In fact those words angered him, how could such a loving and benevolent deity let something so awful happen, especially to someone as good as the builder. 

But since the Light works in mysterious ways, the builder managed to scramble back to town before sundown. They were exhausted, roughed up and dirty and all they wanted was to nap with Burgess for a while. And despite everyone's concern to stay home they made their way back to the church where Burgess was still praying. 

 It was kind of dramatic, the builder swung the church doors open and surprised Burgess turned around to see who it was and as soon as he realized it was them he ran up to them, enveloping them in a gentle hug. Still wrapped in his hug, the builder couldn't help but to break down in tears as they apologized over and over for making him think they were dead. But he didn't care about that anymore, the builder was back and the Light was true to its word and brought them back safe and sound. 

Then they spent the rest of the day being taken care of by Burgess, who helped them get clean and comfy and then settled in to sleep with them. 

Ernest

He really hated this Podunk town and its lack of basic commodities, but the only one who made the stay worthwhile was the builder. He had high hopes of convincing them of ditching Sandrock and moving to Atara with him; he wanted to make sure they had everything their heart desired, including the best work opportunities. 

Unfortunately this silly little dream of his would be crushed when he found out the builder had died. Ernest was dumbfounded at the level of incompetence of the Civil Corps. He wasn't angry, he was fuming and it was damn sure that there would be hell to pay in Sandrock. 

By the time Unsuur left his apartment, Ernest was already writing a hefty letter, reporting the Civil Corps for their ineptitude.  It was a hefty letter, spanning at least three pages. Once that letter was done, he packed his bags hastily as he fought back tears.

For the first time, someone liked him for who he was and not for his wealth. They were kind, sweet and genuine, and they made Ernest a better person, and most importantly, they became that light in his life they were looking for and now that light is gone.

He spent less than an hour getting everything packed and made his way to the train station. He had finished buying the ticket for the next train to Atara when he saw the builder running back to the town. At first he thought it was his mind playing tricks on him, but as they approached, Ernest was able to recognize their form and instinctively ran to them, leaving his bags at the station.

Ernest ran as fast as possible and stopped the builder dead in their tracks. They looked like they had seen better days, but that doesn't matter now, they were right there in front of him and a sense of relief washed over him as he grabbed their hand and ran back to the station, he was now intending to buy a ticket for them and take them to Atara. He wasn't going to let them get hurt again in this town. But thanks to the builder's persuasion he ended up staying in Sandrock for now. However he was still going to send that letter after he edited out the parts where he stated that the builder was dead.

Miguel

Out of all the members of the church, he had to stand on the stage alongside Matilda, who gave out an eulogy for them. Miguel had to do his absolute best to keep it together as per Matilda's request but if it were for him he would've searched for their body instead. Miguel felt absolutely horrible at that moment, feeling as if his heart had been ripped right out of his chest, but perhaps it was the Light giving him the strength to stand there.

Though occasionally during the eulogy, he managed to catch on to comments others said about how he doesn't look devastated to know that his lover is dead. Fools they are, Miguel loves the builder more than anything, except the Light above. If they knew the pain he is going through right now, that ignorant bunch wouldn't dare to say such things. 

Thankfully, the Light performed a miracle in front of his eyes and the builder came in running towards the stage. Once up there they stopped to catch their breath since they had been running the whole way back. But before addressing the concerned citizens they hugged Miguel as tight as possible and in return Miguel let go of his typical decorum and simply broke down in tears as he held on to them for dear life. He didn't care if it made him look unbecoming of a minister to break down like this but his beloved builder was back and that was all that mattered.

 However he made sure to give the Civil Corps a stern lecture on safety procedures as well as on rescue procedures since he didn't want this to happen again.

Owen

How the hell did Justice allow something like this to happen? If Justice promised to keep them safe out on missions and he couldn't even do that? It was a simple request and Justice fucked it up. That day as soon as Justice came by to tell him the unfortunate news Owen broke down. He didn't know if he should cry or be angry. He didn't even let Justice finish talking and he was already screaming at Justice to leave the Blue Moon. It was rather rare to see Owen like this and even Grace who witnessed the whole thing. 

It was only a matter of seconds before Owen would start throwing things at Justice but luckily he ran off before Owen could throw a salt shaker at him. 

 Once Justice was gone, Owen dropped to his knees and began to cry inconsolably. Grace on the other hand was at a loss, she didn't know what to do with him at that moment since she obviously knew the builder was alright and she had to go meet up with them soon. So Grace suggested that they close the Blue Moon for the day since Owen wasn't in any condition to handle customers today. Somehow she managed to convince him and accompany Owen back to his place. 

Owen was silent on the way back to his house, except a few sobs here and there. Though it was a short walk he wanted to pretend he hadn't cried just moments ago, despite looking like a mess.  As soon as Grace shut the door she could hear Owen screaming and throwing things around his house. It devastated her to see him in this state but she couldn't do anything to comfort him for now. 

About half an hour later, Burgess knocks on Owen's door and surprisingly Owen opens the door telling the poor Burgess to leave without even hearing what he has to say. Still he insisted Owen came by the outdoor stage because Matilda would be giving an eulogy for them soon. Owen remained quiet as he closed the door on Burgess's face. 

After some consideration he washed his face and fixed himself to look presentable enough and headed out. Matilda's eulogy was lovely and Owen couldn't help but sob the whole time. Coincidentally Grace came back and stood next to him. She tried to cryptically let him know that the builder was on their way but he was too distraught to catch on and simply dismissed her comments as words of comfort. 

Thankfully the builder didn't take too long in coming back to town, and they were going to head to the stage but before that, the builder felt a pair of strong arms take hold of them and wrap them in a hug. It was Owen, and he was crying of joy seeing that the builder was there with him. Him being happy was an understatement, Owen was beyond ecstatic. He was holding the builder in his arms and refused to let them go, despite the builder trying to break free from his grip. 

Still though he was mad at Justice for what happened and if it weren't for Owen's busy schedule he would've gone and accompanied them in future Civil Corps missions just as a safety precaution. Or more likely Owen carried the builder so they don't get tired or hurt in any way. But he has to handle the Blue Moon so that only can happen in his dreams.

[purpleturtle9000]

I needed Tello and Jones Jr in my life

When Casey Jones was six years old, he would sit in entle Tello's lap as Tello worked on their drones. Everything was okay when his entle was there. Despite the strength of the Krang, and everything else the world could throw at them, nothing could ever get to him when he was being held, something he knew as early as his own name.

It was different, with them gone. Not just because Casey had lost one of the people most important to him, but because of the impact it had on his dad, too. Six months had passed before Leonardo even considered smiling again.

Casey understood loss, of course. His mother had died three years before Tello, when he was seven, and the incident had permanently altered his ability to feel safe.

Even in the future-past, some things are still the same. Some things still hurt. He's friends with Donnie, at least, he's pretty sure, or at least Donnie trusts him babysit Shelldon. If there's a difference there, Casey isn't going to be the one to find it, not when he missed his entle for six years.

But as much as he enjoys Donnie's and Shelldon's company, they aren't Tello.

Fortunately for him, they don't have to be, not when Tello is here.

It's just past three-thirty in the morning, and Casey is silent as he moves through the lair, shivering slightly in the cool air. He passes a row of dark rooms, some doors ajar and one entirely open. A peek shows Mikey fast asleep, his phone screen dully lit beside him.

Reassured that everyone is all right, Casey moves on. There's no lights on at night, but he doesn't need them. Not after a lifetime spent slipping from shadow to shadow, chasing the safety of the darkness. Like a cat, his dad called him once, though cats had all died before he was old enough to remember them.

Tello had been the only one willing to tell him, as a boy, that all the junebugs already died too. When they promised him that he wouldn't, he'd believed them.

He never thought to make them promise the same thing about themself, because there was no need to. Until the very moment he heard of their death, they were a constant in his life; it was the same thing he had once believed about his mother.

It's only in the past few days that he's dared to start hoping that Tello won't be taken again.

Red light pools around the bottom of the laboratory door. There's a whiteboard to its side, Casey knows even though he can't see it, scrawled with messages left in the course of the day, when Tello wouldn't open the door because they were too busy chasing some answer. He brushes his fingers across the words carved into the top of the door, GO AWAY BLUE THING, and knocks just below them.

Two raps on the door, a pause, then a third. Like the syllables in Junebug Jones.

Tello opens the door, of course, because they always do for him. His dad pouts about it, in a way that Tello calls Shakespearean, but never too seriously. Everyone knows that nobody can separate Tello and Jr.

The seven-foot-tall figure stares down at him, shadows lurking in the curves and joints of their Terminator-like legs and arm, red reflecting off the swooping angles of the goggles on top of their head and the chipped upper fang poking past their lip, face too dark to be seen.

"Hi," he says, and shivers as a draft brushes past his legs.

"Are you cold?"

"Mhm."

"You take after your father."

The words are said with exasperation, but Casey just shrugs. Tello's been mad at him before, sure, but not about foolishness. They claim it's a natural effect of being around 'that damn blue thing' too long.

The red light, he sees when Tello steps aside, is from a row of long lights set up over a wood table by the door. Terra cotta pots sit beneath them, half a dozen buds visible and even one fully-formed blossom. He stops to peer at it, not recognising the type, though he thinks it might be bright red even without the grow lights.

Steps come back towards him, and he straightens just in time for Tello to put a blanket around his shoulders like a cape. His hands come up to hold it in place, and he feels more than sees Tello lean down to kiss the top of his head.

When they move away without a word, he follows them. They sit down at the workbench at the end of the lab, turning on a small light on their goggles. The beam wobbles as they adjust its angle, then sweeps across the surface in more regular lines as they sort through the tools they have laid out.

It almost seems like they aren't aware he's there any longer, except for the fact that they nudge a stool his way with their foot, and hand over a pair of welding glasses before they begin soldering again.

He sits there with his chin in one hand, the other curled in the blanket. It's always warm in Tello's lab, because of the plants, and it's not long before his shivers stop. Even though it's hard to tell, he's pretty sure Tello notices.

They hand him the soldering iron, and he holds it quietly, the rubber grip warm against his palm. Sure, he remembers Tello being in the lab all the time, working with tech that Casey wouldn't have been able to imagine if he hadn't seen it for himself - but this is what he knows his entle for. Warmth, and quiet, and peace.

At least when it's just the two of them. Twins are fully incapable of being quiet or peaceful when together, obviously, but Leonardo rarely bothers Tello at night unless it's an emergency.

Casey always comes here when he can't sleep, and Tello always welcomes him. The silence settles as it does, comfortable and warm, no need for it to be broken.

Eventually they unplug the soldering iron and turn off the light on their goggles. Casey can hear the faint clatter of them being hung on the metal pegboard.

"Sleep?"

It's the first word either of them have said in over an hour.

Casey winces a little, looking away as he shakes his head. Neither of them are any stranger to nightmares, and he knows they won't ask for any details if he doesn't want to volunteer them.

Instead they nudge his shoulder, a silent follow me, and lead him to the couch. It's old enough to be a rather uncertain shape and colour, but the layers of soft blankets and pillows make it second to none, in terms of comfort. Casey sinks down in a hollow between a pillow and a weighted blanket, and waits.

There's another clatter-click-slide, and something cool and smooth is set against his hand, a soft glow lighting up his legs and blanket. A tablet, he realises, already turned on. He gives his eyes a few moments to adjust to the change in lighting before turning it over so he can see the screen.

A game. Tello's favourite walking simulator, to be precise, where various animal companions follow the player as they run around finding exotic plants.

They always play this when they can't sleep, and they always invite him when they know he's struggling with the same thing. Sometimes it's the only thing that works to help calm him.

The red lights switch off as sunlight begins to warm the room, but Casey, curled up against Tello's plastron, isn't awake to see it.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Assassins

( Don’t forget to come see my on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord )

 The soft light of the morning dawn slowly filtered into the room through cracks between the lavish curtains. Streaks of light bounded off the polished gold detailing of the rooms furniture and made the room appear as if the very stars themselves had come to adorn themselves upon the walls. So bright were the reflections that it managed to find their way underneath several layers of bed sheets and directly into the face of ambassador Glifin.

Roused from his seemingly peaceful sleep Glifin slowly pushed off the sheets one by one and rolled to his feet. The loud thuds of his hooves touching the floor sent a shudder through the room as he stood and stretched out, his general grogginess slowly shaking off. With a loud yawn finally leaving his throat he rose and shambled over to his desk to begin his day’s work.

Tonight he was hosting a party honoring visiting royalty from his home world on Argon. The prince had decided he wanted to visit this miserable planet he had been stationed on, though why anyone would want to visit this world was beyond him.

Glifin’s posting on the human homeworld had been sold to him as a great honor but in reality it had been a means to keep him from continuing his political rise. On Argon he had been a senator whose mere whisper was enough to make generals and minor nobles quiver in fear. His star struck ascension didn’t go unnoticed however and just before he was to be elected into the office of Artock Supreme and reside over the entire senate the royal family had stepped in and given him the position of ambassador to humanity.

Within the spam of a solar month he was shipped off the throne world and sent to this backwater dump of a world; were he had to smile and feign sincerity to these miserable sacks of flesh all the while his political powerbase slowly began to crumble in the senate.

Now fully consumed by feelings of dread over his situation Glifin did not hear the sudden knock at the door. Only after several more knocks did Glifin look up from his paper work.

“Come in.”

The door slowly opened and Glifin’s aide Jafal walked in and bowed.

“My apologies for disturbing you at this early hour, but Mr. Robinson has arrived with your evening wear for tonight’s event.”

Glifin nodded and shuffled his papers back into his desk and locked it just as a new figure entered the room.

“Say what you want about Argonian fashion, but they do have such a wonderful sense of aesthetics when it comes to room decoration.”

A slim human emerged from the doorway pushing a small cart with a metal rod built in holding up two clothing bags.

“You have a problem with Argonian styles?” Glifin said as he rose to his feet and walked over to Robinson as he pulled out a tiny box device and casually threw it down on the floor. The moment of contact it sprung open and in an instance a large set of mirrors emerged from it giving an impressive view from all sides.

“Oh far be it for me to question ones culture, “ Robinson continued as he opened the first bag and stepped aside for Glifin to see the contents, “but some would consider the amount of dead mammals your people adorn on themselves to be a tad morbid.”

From the corner of his eye Glifin saw Jafal’s face redden from anger but with a motion from his ambassador kept his tongue still.

“I would find it surprising for a human to find anything morbid with the amount of toxins you willingly consume.”

Robinson flashed a brief smile and shrugged. “You do have me there; personally caffeine will most likely be the end of me one day, but we’re not here to talk about my eventual demise.”

“An end that will come much sooner if you continue to waste my time with idle chatter.”

Humanities incessant need for small talk and idle conversation was something Glifin had never come to terms with; and this human fashion designer was by far the worst example he had ever put up with. Part of him viewed it as a challenge to see how long he could endure before snapping the tiny man’s neck, and though such a moment would no doubt bring him great pleasure the other part of him realized that Robinsons work was well regarded among prominent members of society. Not just with other humans, but with other alien dignitaries who had embassies on the human homeworld. It had been surprisingly an ambassador from the Hive that had recommended the human’s services when it was suggested that Glifin update his style to match his new role.

Walking up to the first black bag that Robinson had opened Glifin inspected the wardrobe.

Inside was a finely trimmed suit of Rygonian Leaper fur of a dark blue with a sash of Haponi tongue and a dashing pair of pants metal grey Roller Worm hide.

It was custom in Argonian culture to wear the skin of that which you have killed, thus the outfit before him was a prime example Glifin’s traditions.

“A fine work indeed,” Glifin said as he ran his fingers across the material, feeling the roughness against his skin. “For a human” he finished as he turned and smirked at Robinson.

“With the effort it took to obtain the materials you requested I would say it is nothing less than an example a miracle performed before your very eyes.”

Glifin stopped his examination of the attire and looked at the human. “For a miracle you sound so…displeased with your work.”

Robinson crossed his arms for a moment and pouted as if considering his next words.

“My work is perfection, I can assure you, but a man in my trade is not just meant to listen to the specifications of their client but their intention as well.”

“And your point?” Glifin queried.

After a moment he outstretched his hand and casually gestured to the Argonian clothing. “Is this really the message you want to be sending?”

Glifin looked at the suit again then back at Robinson. “I don’t understand.”

“If you go to the event dressed like this it will send the message that you still value your traditions, but I worry that it shows a disconnect with your current situation; almost as if you are attempting to relive the past.”

“You would appear as an old war hero trapped in past glories that the other guests would acknowledge, but not make to engage in conversation.”

Glifin opened to rebuke the human but stopped himself as he pondered the man’s words. Robinson stepped forward to the other black case. “Now this,” Robinson said as he slowly pulled down the zipper revealing the contents, “this would make you not only the talk of the party, but would make you the talk of the after party all the way back to your homeworld were many people would no doubt be very much interested in your on goings.”

“Each piece has been designed by some of the most dangerous animals on this planet, and in some cases far more ravenous then anything back on your respectable homeworld.”

Robinson went about and pointed out the specific materials used one by one.

“The body is made from a powerful species that inhabits the various swamps and wetlands around the globe with jaws so powerful they could cut you in two with a single bite.”

“Each of the buttons along the coat are the fangs of the most poisonous reptilian creatures on the planet; each one capable of killing a human let alone an Argonia ten times over with a single drop of their venom.”

“Now the pants I am particularly proud of as they are the skin of the deadliest hunter of all the planets seas. They can smell fresh blood from miles away and commonly take on prey twice their size.”

Gliffin heard Robinson go through the list of creatures but his expression remained emotionless.

“Why would these creatures be any more interesting than my own worlds?”

Robinson smiled. “Because everyone from your world already knows about them and have hunted the same creatures for generations. Yet I would be so bold as to wager my humble shop that none of them have ever faced down the black eyed stare of a great white shark, nor wrestled the deadly crocodile demons of the swamps, and most certainly have been quick enough to pluck out the teeth of rattle snakes just as they lunge to strike.”

“Neither have I,” Gliffin said with a hint of disgust in his tone, “and you would make a liar out of me for saying so.”

“My dear ambassador, who but you could say what you do or don’t in your free time?”

Robinson leaned forward and whispered into Gliffin’s ear “I am no doubt sure many of your females would find the idea of a striking Argonian such as yourself sneaking off to go hunting the unknown for sport a rather attractive quality.”

Glifin looked at the new set of clothing and then back at the original set of traditional clothes. He went back and forth for several moments before finally settling his gaze on the traditional garments.

“Take these away.”

_______________________________________

The lights outside Robinson’s humble shop slowly went off one by one as he walked between the displays straightening out garments and folding tossed aside pieces customers had casually put aside when the door rang.

“I’m sorry but we are closed for the night.” Robinson said as he returned behind the counter with a stack of clothes.

The figure slowly approached the counter and took off their hat. Robinson looked up from the register to see the figure was a Rohanan; a species known for its gel like appearance yet could collect random bits and bobs to create a sudo skeleton and present themselves as humanoid.

“That’s alright,” the Rohanan said, “I am here to pay for a set I ordered for a….friend.”

“Then they are most fortunate to have a friend such as you then.”

Robinson’s smiling nature unnerved the Rohanan but nonetheless they placed a small envelope on the table and slid it across. Robinson placed a hand on it and tapped his fingers several times against the contents inside before opening it and spilling the credit chips on to the table.

“Is it satisfactory?” the Rohanan said, their nervousness building as the human finished counting the chips.

“Oh yes indeed; I believe you have paid in full for your order.” With a swipe of his hand the human pushed the chips back into the envelope and sealed it. “Always a pleasure to deal with such an honest and upstanding man such as yourself during such troubling times.”

Robinson leaned in towards the Rohanan, his expression shifting from smiling to one of mild concern. “I heard there was a most unfortunate incident up at the Argonian embassy several nights ago.”

“Several guests including the visiting prince and ambassador himself all died from poisoning.” The Rohanan confirmed.

“How gruesome!” Robinson said as he recoiled in shock and finished putting away the remaining clothes while he talked over his shoulder.

The Rohanan regarded the human for a moment before continuing. “The strangest thing was that the poison was not native to this world, but is most common in the Hagar system under Dovorian rule.”

“A most embarrassing situation I am sure considering the Dovorian and Argonian people despise each other.”

“Indeed; one might wonder how such a toxin came into contact with them.”

Robinson shrugged and turned as he finished placing the final shirt back into the display. “With all of those fangs, bones, and animal skins I would not be surprised if someone grabbed a tooth or two that hadn’t been fully drained of its contents.”

The Rohanan laughed and placed their hat back on their head just as they stopped at the door.

“You were worth every penny, assassin.”

“An assassin you say?” Robinson’s smile returned and he casually waved to the departing customer “You must have me mistaken for someone else, as I am but a simple tailor.”

[ladydimitrescuspet]

Just The Way You Are

ao3 link! hope you enjoy this, tell me what you think! apologies for any grammatical errors!

Este o poveste lungă și nu una pe care sunt dispusă să o împărtășesc acum - It's a long story and not one I'm willing to share now

***

You always made sure to keep to yourself when doing your chores, never complaining about then even if some of them sounded impossible to get done. Fortunately, your shy and quiet demeanour kept you out of trouble with the Lady of the Castle and her daughters. So, when it came time for Lady Dimitrescu to pick a new handmaiden at the sudden demise of her old one, it wasn’t a surprise when she picked you. You only had one task that night and it was to bring her her midnight tea.

“Since it’s your first night, I wrote out how the Lady likes her tea. Memorise it and then get rid of the note when you get the chance.” Garbriela said. She was the Head of Staff.

You nodded your head. “And the, um, special stuff is here, right?” You asked. Gabriela nodded her head. “Okay, okay. Wish me luck.” You said as you grabbed the tray and headed up to the Lady’s chambers.

You made sure to memorise how much tea to pour, how much sugar she liked, and how much of Lady Dimitrescu’s special additive to put in. Oh, and that little drizzle of lavender honey she liked so much. You put the piece of paper in your apron and then knocked on the door. There wasn’t a reply, but you entered the room still, you didn’t want to get in trouble with the Lady on your first night as her handmaiden.

You set the tea down on the table that the note mentioned, although the description was a little vague. You thought about putting together her tea, but you waved the idea away since Lady Dimitrescu wasn’t in the room. Looking at the clock, you realised that you’d been a bit early, assuming that’s why the Lady was nowhere to be found in her chambers. Not wanting to just stand around waiting for her, you decided to tidy the room up a bit.

You straightened up the pillows on the lounge, straightened up her bed, and then made your way over to her vanity disregarding her laundry until you were dismissed by the Lady. You picked up her signature shade of lipstick and stared at it. She had all kinds of lipsticks, eyeshadows, and blushes lying around on the desk. You always thought that she looked beautiful with and without makeup on, but you would never have the courage to admit your little crush on her.

You frowned as you looked at your reflection in the mirror, lipstick still in your hand. You didn’t like how flawless your skin was, in your eyes. Sure, your acne wasn’t bad, but you still felt like it made unattractive and you were insecure about it. Maybe that’s why you felt like you’d never be able to work up the courage to tell the Lady how you felt about her. Since the moment you stepped foot in the castle, you really did make sure to keep to yourself, but a part of you hoped that one day the Lady would push you to be more out there like the other maids. She never gave you criticism or compliments on your work around the castle like she did them and it made you wonder if you were really right for the job as her handmaiden. Maybe if you were to cover up your acne, make yourself more attractive then she’d give you more attention instead of just allowing you to scamper through the castle like a little mouse.

“See anything you’d like to try?” A voice asked, startling you. You recognised it as Lady Dimitrescu and dropped the lipstick before turning to face her. You were paralysed with fear and frozen to the spot where you stood while she stalked closer to you. “No, need to be afraid, draga mea. I don’t bite… hard, that is.” She gave you a grin, one of her fangs poking out from behind the expression.

“La-Lady Dimitrescu, I, um, my apologises. I was just,” You cut yourself off and gestured to the room. She raised her eyebrow. “Cleaning. I was cleaning.”

Lady Dimitrescu hummed. “Is that what you call rummaging through my makeup and staring at yourself in the mirror?” Lady Dimitrescu asked. Your face flushed. “Oh, no need to be embarrassed, draga mea. As I asked before, see anything you’d like to try?”

You bit your lip before nodding your head a bit. Lady Dimitrescu hummed again before she walked over to the tray that had her tea on it. You had finally managed to find your footing and rushed over to the tray. “Um, let me, my Lady. Where would you like your tea?” You asked as you began making it for her.

“The vanity. And do make yourself a cup, if you wish.” Lady Dimitrescu replied as she watched you closely. She watched you for a few seconds more before turning to head back to the vanity. “Would you like me to do your make up, iubirea mea?”

You didn’t reply as you brought her tea over to the desk. Do you say yes? Do you say no? “I wouldn’t want to take up your time, my Lady.” You said.

Lady Dimitrescu let out a small laugh as she sipped her tea. “Delightful. But, my dear, I simply do not mind the task since I am proposing it. You wouldn’t deny your mistress the pleasure of something so frivolous, would you?” You shook your head. “Good, good, now sit.” You sat down in the chair on the side of her.

“When you are putting on your makeup, it’s like you’re an artist. But instead of painting on a canvas, you’re painting on a face.” Lady Dimitrescu said. You stared at her for a bit. “It’s not polite to stare, little one. Now close your eyes for me.” You did so and felt something wet wipe across your face, your assumed it was a makeup wipe to make sure your face was clean.

“Where did you learn how to do makeup, my Lady?” You asked. You felt something glide across the bottom of your closed eyelid.

Lady Dimitrescu didn’t reply for a while, focused on the task at hand. When she pulled away you open your eyes a bit and she gave you a small smile. “I learned from my mother. I was always fascinated when I watched her do her makeup with her friends. She was an actress, not a popular one, but she still made a name for herself. Didn’t your mother ever teach you how to do your makeup?” Lady Dimitrescu replied.

You shook your head. “No. My, um, my mother died when I was young. I hardly remember her. I spent most of my life going through different foster homes until I, well, ran away. Somehow, I found myself here in Romania and then I was chosen to get sent to the castle. The villagers weren’t too keen on having an outsider around them, can’t say I blame them, to be honest.” You gave her a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry. I, you didn’t ask for my life story. I apologise, my Lady.” You lowered your head as you chewed on your lip again.

Lady Dimitrescu lifted your head back up by your chin. “Close your eyes for me again, dear. That’s a good girl.” She started to apply eyeshadow to your eyelids. “You’re right, I didn’t ask for our backstory, but I am sorry you led such a life before finding your way to me and my castle, iubirea mea.” You felt your face flush at her saying that you’d found your way to her. “You remind me of someone I knew a lifetime ago.” She was silent for a while after that. You revelled in the silence, trying to will yourself to add on to her conversation.

“One of your old staff members, my Lady?” You asked. You still had your eyes closed, but you heard the sharp breath she took. “I’m sorry, my Lady. I feel I might’ve crossed a line by asking.” You said rather quickly.

“No, no, my dear, it’s fine. It’s just a rather touchy subject.” Lady Dimitrescu replied. “To answer your question, yes and no. They started out a maid and became something more to me and my daughters. I was in love and we were quite the happy family once upon a time, if you can believe that.” The Lady let out a dry laugh and you felt yourself frown a bit at the self-deprecation of her voice. “Don’t frown, drag mea, you’ll get wrinkles.” Lady Dimitrescu chastised and you softened your expression.

“What happened to them, my Lady?” You asked. You heard her mumble something, but you couldn’t figure out what she said, it must’ve been in Romanian.

“Este o poveste lungă și nu una pe care sunt dispusă să o împărtășesc acum.” Lady Dimitrescu grumbled. “I’ll tell you another time, my dear. You can open your eyes now.” And you did. “Lipstick?” She asked. You nodded your hesitantly. She picked up her signature colour and applied it to your lips. “Open. Close. Done.” Lady Dimitrescu said once she finished blotting your lips. “So what do you think, iubirea mea?”

You looked in the mirror and gasped softly. You looked absolutely darling, but you still frowned a bit when you saw your acne. “You didn’t cover it.” You said softly. Lady Dimitrescu raised an eyebrow. “My acne, it’s not bad, but I thought you’d cover it. To make me look prettier, so to speak.” You added.

Lady Dimitrescu took your face in her hands. “Miel mic, you’re beautiful just the way you are. And you’re more than just your looks, remember that.” Lady Dimitrescu. “Now, run along, you have a busy day tomorrow.” She pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and patted your head. You made sure to grab her laundry as you were getting to leave, but before you closed the door you turned to face her. “Yes, dear?”

“Thank you, my Lady. For doing my makeup.” She gave you a nod and a smile. “Good night, my Lady. I’ll see you in the morning.” And with that you shut the door, to allow her time to herself for the rest of the night.

[twistedtummies2]

Descending From the Sky - Part 1 (500 Followers Special)

IN CELEBRATION OF 500 FOLLOWERS...! (freezes as someone whispers in my ear) ...Eh? You...say I have 509 now? ...Frick. WELL, BETTER LATE THAN NEVER! Something a lot of people have wanted me to write - on this site as well as an alternate site I frequent - is a “rampage story.” You know the type: macro-sized predator goes stomping around eating people and causing destruction in their wake. I have several ideas for such tales, though most of them are still in the “pre-production” stages.  I decided to go with the one that could offer me the clearest possible plot, and which I know a few people were hoping to see: this is the third chapter in my Giant AU for My Hero Academia, based on Jack and the Beanstalk. In the past two sections, Midoriya and Kaminari went up to see the Giants. THIS time, however, one of the giants comes down to Earth themselves.  I mustn’t say more though, or I shall spoil the fun. This is a two-parter; part two will be up tomorrow. As is typical, this first section is mostly just expository stuff and...well...actual STORY than anything else. Most of the “fun stuff” will be in tomorrow’s second half. Keeping this in mind, I hope you all enjoy, and thank you for the support!

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Three months had passed since Izuku Midoriya and Denki Kaminari had descended from the beanstalk with the Golden Eggs.

The result of their fortunate adventures were plainly visible: the farm where they both lived had become far more prosperous. The fields had been able to widen, as their master, Aizawa, had been able to hire new farmhands, buy new equipment, and even purchase a new cow for milking! (Although Izuku couldn’t help but notice how much whiter Milky White’s output had always been.) The farmhouse had been repaired, and plans were in motion to construct a larger building, all while a second barn was being built to house all the new supplies. Over all of this rising splendor towered the magnificent beanstalk...and on the unusually hot morning where our story begins, the boys were very glad about that. Kaminari sighed as he paused in his work, wiping his brow with a spotted handkerchief before stuffing it back into his pocket. Though the boys could afford nice clothes, they usually wore their old peasant garb while working After all, there was no point in ruining the good stuff. “Y’know something, Midoriya?” he mumbled out, looking up. Midoriya paused, putting down his hammer and looking down at Kaminari. His expression was wide-eyed and attentive. Kaminari huffed, leaning against the side of the shed the two were in the process of building. “Life doesn’t make sense sometimes.” “Yeah, that’s a fact,” Midoriya said, with a small smile, and chuckled, turning his freckled face back towards his work. He was standing on a ladder and tapping nails into place to hold the roof boards. Kaminari was holding the nails in a jar, and passing them up, and was supposed to be holding the ladder. In that moment, however, the distracted blonde was more focused on the jar, biting his lip as he stirred the nails boredly. The pair had been alternating positions every couple of boards, since, obviously, it was a lot more work to hammer than to hold. Not that the heat made either of the stations particularly fun. Kaminari tried to get a bit of shade from the side of the shed, but as the Sun was facing in the wrong direction, there was no shade to be had. “What I mean is,” Denki went on, “I thought all this extra stuff would make our lives easier: a little less of a workload on us. Instead, it feels like we haven’t a chance to just...you know...breathe.” “I know,” Midoriya murmured, pausing in his work and dipping his head. “Nor a chance to visit our friends ‘upstairs.’” “Friend. Singular,” Kaminari corrected. “Unless you count that mean man-eater as a friend…” Both of the teens shuddered, and Kaminari even crossed himself. Midoriya shook his head and refocused on hammering as Kaminari passed up another nail, and made sure to grab hold of the ladder with one hand. He didn’t want Midoriya to fall over. For one thing, it would be kind of embarrassing if either of them broke an arm falling from a ladder after managing to climb up and down a mammoth beanstalk and never tumble once.

“Mr. Aizawa says that after this is built, we should be able to rest a bit,” Midoriya said, with a bright-eyed smile that made his green irises look like emeralds. “Maybe we’ll get to go back up there in a couple weeks.”

“Maybe,” murmured Kaminari, and frowned. “Hey, do you think he’s giving us extra work to keep us from going up there?” Midoriya frowned and turned carefully on the ladder, looking to the beanstalk, then looking over the farmland...and shook his head again, this time in disagreement. “No,” he answered, and continued hammering; the boards were hard and the nails long. “With everything going on, I think we can give him the benefit of the doubt there. There’s just...so much expansion, with all the buying and selling we’ve been doing…” “I’m glad he let us keep those Golden Eggs!” grinned Kaminari. “They look cool in the bedroom.” Midoriya nodded wordlessly in agreement, and began to descend the ladder. It was Kaminari’s turn to take care of the next few boards-and-nails. “We’ll get back there soon,” he said. “Things just have to get harder before they get easier.” “That’s one way of looking at it,” shrugged Kaminari, giving Midoriya the nail jar as he took the hammer. He bit his lip and looked off to the side. Midoriya tilted his head, concerned by the unhappy expression on his friend’s face. “Hey...something else wrong?” he asked. “Just...when I went up there last time…” Kaminari trailed off...took a breath...and shook his head. “Never mind,” he said, and smiled. “Let’s just get back to work. The faster we finish, the faster we can get inside where it’s cool.” Midoriya looked skeptical, but before he could answer, a voice interrupted the pair… “It’s going to take a little longer than expected to do that.” The boys looked up. The baggy-eyed figure of Aizawa was approaching the pair. The teens stiffened, almost as if standing at attention. “Good morning, Master!” they chorused, as if speaking to a drill sergeant. Aizawa rolled his eyes and made a grumpy sound. He made a lot of those. “Relax, you’re not in trouble. Yet,” he mumbled, then went on a bit more clearly: “I need you two to stop work on the shed today. There’s another job for you both now.” The teens looked at each other, then back to the head farmer. “Um...no offense, sir,” Midoriya spoke up, and sounded sincerely polite and curious as he spoke, “But why not get one of the others to do it?” “Or do it yourself?” suggested Kaminari, in the same tone. Neither sounded defiant, just a little confused. Aizawa crossed his arms and sighed through his nose, looking out over the farmland, watching the new helpers hoe and shovel and rake away… “I have to stay,” he said, simply and strictly. “And as for the rest of the farmhands…” He looked back to the pair somewhat earnestly. “...I trust you both more than most of them.” The two boys practically had stars in their eyes. “You...you trust us?” peeped Midoriya. “Really?” Kaminari gasped. Aizawa narrowed his eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head,” he droned, drably. “I trust Mineta more than you both, and he’s a donkey. And I trust my dog more than I trust him.” The pair ducked their heads with nervous, bashful smiles. Kaminari scratched the back of his head, kicking an imaginary pebble, while Midoriya rubbed one arm, trying to look anywhere but into Aizawa’s face. Aizawa rolled his eyes and then cleared his throat. “Ahem...the new help has loaded the wagon with produce to take to market,” he informed the pair. “Change clothes and hitch the horse up, then take it all. And this time, PLEASE don’t try to trade anything on the way for Magic Beans. One big green liability is enough.” He looked to Midoriya pointedly with those words. Midoriya gulped guiltily. “We’ll do our best, Master,” Kaminari promised, and slung an arm around Midoriya as he gave a cocky grin. “Just leave it to us! We’ll come back with more money than you can shake a stick at! Although I don’t know why you’d want to…” Aizawa just made another grumpy sort of sound and paused before going on… “Mind your way through the forest. Don’t stray from the path. Keep the cart moving on its course: some of the new boys have said they’ve encountered robbers in the woods, ever since…” He pointed up towards the clouds indicatively. “We’ll be careful, Mr. Aizawa,” vowed Midoriya, then looked to Kaminari. “C’mon, let’s get moving!” The duo folded up the ladder, and darted off to put away their tools before getting ready for the journey to market. Aizawa watched them go, then looked back to the partially finished shed, then turned his gaze heavenward. He glared as he looked at the top of the beanstalk...or, at least, the furthest point he could see, as it disappeared beyond the blue sky’s crest. He shook his head and pinched his brow as he walked off to see about feeding the chickens. “This place has never been the same,” he whispered. “I wouldn’t mind so much if I could decide if that was good or bad…”

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Meanwhile, in the Land of the Giants… “Sure you’ll be okay while I’m gone?” The red-haired, fang-toothed giant known as Kirishima looked with concern to his friend. His fellow titan, Bakugou, narrowed his own crimson eyes, a sour expression on his face as he lounged on a sofa in their living room. “Hell’s that s’posed to mean?” he sneered. “What do you think’s gonna happen while I’m here?” Kirishima opened his mouth to answer...then closed it again. “...Never mind,” he shrugged, and gave a cheerful smile as he slung the leather backpack over his back. “Anyway, I better get going. Tamaki’s probably gonna get all anxious if I’m late; start thinking if I still wanna be his friend, and so on…” “Tch,” Bakugou scoffed, and took a sip of the coffee he held in his hand. “How come you hang out with that wuss anyway? He’s softer than you are!” “Hey, you can’t pick your friends!” “Yes, you can,” droned Bakugou, boredly. “It’s family. You can’t pick your family.” “That, too.” Bakugou blinked slowly, his expression tremendously dull as he took another drink. “Whatever. It’ll be nice to not have your dumb hair poisoning my vision,” he grumbled. “Yeah, I’ll miss you, too,” Kirishima chuckled. Bakugou just grunted, taking yet another drink. He licked his lips thinly as Kirishima tilted his head. “Hey...you certain you’re alright?” “What makes you think I’m not?” “I dunno...just...you’ve been a lot quieter lately. And you haven’t gone down to mess with the little guys in a couple of months. Not that I mind that at all…” He grinned. “Am I rubbing off on you a little, maybe?” “Dream on. I just haven’t had an appetite for ‘em.” “Uh-huh. Sure,” Kirishima mumbled, sounded unconvinced, and gave a smile. “Well...anyway, I’ll be back by tomorrow. Guard the house well!” “The fuck do you mean ‘guard the house well’?!” snapped Bakugou, barking out his annoyance. “DO I LOOK LIKE A DAMN GUARD DOG TO YOU?!” Kirishima sniggered, and responded with a jaunty mock-salute. Whistling merrily, the friendly giant thus left the house. Bakugou growled (ironically sounding VERY much like an angry guard dog), his fingers twitching around his coffee cup as he finished his drink. He stifled a burp in his ballooning cheeks - “HHHMMMRRRLLLRRRPH...grm…” - and swallowed the excess gas back down, thumping his bare chest with a beefy fist before rising to his feet. The Barbarian-garbed colossus then tromped back to the kitchen, cleaning his cup and putting it aside to drain and dry. In truth, there was something on Bakugou’s mind. Something that had been buzzing around in his brain for months, and had become increasingly more annoying. I climbed a beanstalk to the top of the sky...I befriended a giant, was able to hide from another...and I was able to make my whole village happy, and even the king...do you think anyone who’s ‘just meat’ could even think of all that? The giant ground his teeth together, fingers twitching again. “Worthless little runt,” he growled to himself. “What does he know?” The little one Kirishima called “Midoriya” wouldn’t leave his mind. He kept trying to force the small one’s words aside, but the pathetic rat wouldn’t get out of his head. It was starting to drive the titan insane. He’d spent his whole life eating humans. He was bigger, stronger, faster, and all around better than they were. It was the law of the jungle: they were SUPPOSED to fill his belly. It was just their fault they were so small and tasty! That’s how he’d always justified it. That’s how he’d always felt about it. And it wasn’t as if he ate indiscriminately. But now… Someones gotta knock some sense into you, Bakugou! You can’t just eat people, it’s...it’s not right! And if one of my friends is in danger...I’ve got to do whatever I can to help them! No matter what! Bakugou snarled, clenching his fists at his sides. The little vermin had guts. What he wouldn’t give to introduce them to HIS guts... Still...he hadn’t been down to eat in months now...and the truth was, what he’d told Kirishima was true. He just...hadn’t been in the mood to eat little people in a while. It was really starting to piss him off, because this had never happened before. They were his FAVORITE food...so what was holding him back? GRRROOORRRLLLB… Bakugou winced and hissed through his teeth, clapping a hand to his belly. His fingers rubbed over his bare, strong, well-sculpted abs as his stomach gurgled and “brumbled” noisily. So far, all he he’d had that morning was coffee. It seemed his gut was demanding something more substantial. For a moment, the thought of dozens of squirming little morsels flashed in his mind...but he shook that thought away with a toss of his messy blonde locks, and instead relaxed slightly as he stomped towards the icebox. “Something light oughta kill those damn noises,” he muttered coarsely. “Where’d I put those cold cuts…?”

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The wagon full of pumpkins, apples, cucumbers, potatoes, corn, and all sorts of other home-grown delights rattled along the semi-level road that twisted and twined its way through the forest. Kaminari sat beside Midoriya, who held the reins, while an old gray mare hauled the cart along at a steady trot. “Easy there, Chiyo,” Midoriya smiled gently, as the horse huffed softly, ears flicking at a noise from somewhere in the underbrush. “Just a jackrabbit.” “Hopefully,” mumbled Kaminari, then cocked his head to the left. “Say, Midoriya? Do you think we’ll run into that Yagi guy who gave you the Magic Beans?” “I doubt it,” Izuku said wistfully. “I get the feeling that was a one-time deal, or something.” “Hm. Got it,” Kaminari grunted, looking away again, a somewhat pensive, pondering look on his face. Midoriya’s smile faded. “Kaminari...seriously, what’s been bothering you?” “What do you mean?” “You’re thinking. A lot. That’s...very unusual for you.” “Hey. Thinking is dangerous. It can lead to headaches.” Midoriya smirked and chuckled, then paused, pulling the horse to a stop. “Come on,” he said, gently, placing the reins at his side nad putting a hand on Kaminari’s shoulder. “What’s wrong? Tell me.” Kaminari squirmed a bit uncomfortably. “We should keep going,” he said, quietly. “Aizawa said there were-” “We’ll be fine. Talk to me. We’re friends, right?” “Right...well, um...it’s just…” Kaminari took a deep breath, and let it out before speaking. “...I’ve felt...really bad ever since I went up the beanstalk.” “Bad as in sick?” “No, just...bad. Emotionally. I really messed things up, and I almost got killed for it. I was being greedy and stubborn and selfish, and...look, I still love money-” “And girls.” “Well, duh, girls are what make life worth living, and money helps there.” Midoriya sighed and rolled his eyes, still smiling. “But seriously,” Kaminari went on, shifting his position so he could look Midoriya in the face, “What I did was wrong and...well...kinda stupid, even for me. I wanna make up for it somehow, just...I don’t really know what to do. And with all the time that’s gone by-” “I forgive you.” Kaminari stopped short. “I forgive you,” Midoriya said, his smile gentle and friendly. “And I know Kirishima forgives you, too. If it makes you feel so bad, we’ll find a way to go up there and see if you can do something more. I wanna go back up there just as much as you do. But work’s gotta come first.” “Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” Kaminari sighed...then smirked, and adopted a dramatic pose, pointing forward. “Well...drive on, my good man!” Midoriya snickered at Kaminari’s over-the-top impression of a pompous nobleman. “Yes, My Lord,” he winked, and whipped the reins, clicking and calling out Chiyo’s name. Chiyo let out a soft whinny and began to move forward again. Kaminari paused to adjust his clothes: both he and Midoriya were dressed in sharp-looking coats and breeches, so they could look more presentable at the market. “Yellow and black are good colors,” smirked Kaminari, admiring the golden lining of his jacket. He grinned somewhat sneakily. “Hey, think I’ll impress a few ladies while we’re out?” Midoriya was about to respond...but before he could - and after the pair had only traveled about twenty or thirty yards - Chiyo suddenly let out a sharp cry and came to an equally sharp stop. “Whoa, whoa, girl!” called out Midoriya, and as the horse settled, he and Kaminari frowned and stood up in the wagon to see what was the matter. The pair were surprised by what they saw: a small girl, dressed in a somewhat ratty-looking white dress. She had metallic-colored hair, almost the color of steel, and red eyes that looked like a couple of fresh, ripe cherries. The girl was trembling slightly. Her eyes were wide and unblinking as she stared up at the pair. She didn’t move off the path, even as she stood. The two teens looked to each other, then back to the girl, and smiled. “Hello there!” Midoriya said kindly, and stepped down from the cart, while Kaminari stayed aboard and took the reins, just in case the old mare got a bit fidgety. The girl didn’t answer. She stayed still as Midoriya approached. His smile remained gentle and good-natured as he got down on one knee, bringing himself to the little girl’s height. “What is your name, little girl?” he asked, sweetly. The girl paused, blinking just once, before answering in a plaintive, soft voice: “Eri.” “Eri,” repeated Midoriya. “That’s a nice name.” He looked back to the wagon. “Don’t you think so, Kaminari?” “Oh, yeah. Short but pretty,” Denki nodded. Midoriya smiled a little wider, and looked back to Eri. “What are you doing out here, Eri?” he asked, carefully, and looked about with some small amount of worry. “Are your parents around?” Eri bit her lip and squirmed where she stood, looking away and hugging herself. “My...my papa needs help,” she admitted quietly, sounding almost ashamed of the words. “I...I heard your cart coming, and...c-could you...could you help me?” Midoriya frowned with concern. “Of course we’ll help,” he promised sincerely, and looked back to Kaminari. “Stay here with Chiyo and the market goods. I’m gonna see what’s going on, then we can figure out what to do.” “Gotcha,” Kaminari nodded. “Be quick though.” “I’ll try,” Midoriya said, then looked back to Eri with another kind, sweet smile. “C’mon, Eri...let’s go, okay?” He extended a hand...and to his surprised, Eri stepped back, letting out a tiny, timid whimper, as if she expected to be hit. Midoriya looked at his palm, then up at the little girl. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I won’t hurt you. Just...take my hand, and tell me where to go. Alright?” Eri blinked a few times, looking between Midoriya’s face and his hand...then, her own tiny, trembling fingers clasped about his. Midoriya smiled and stood up, holding firmly but carefully onto the young lady as she led him off the path into the forest. Kaminari, for his part, watched them go. Once they were out of sight, he reached into the cart and picked out a juicy yellow apple. No reason he couldn’t have a snack while he waited: there was plenty in the cart to sell at market, anyway. He checked the surrounding trees as he took a crunching bite from the fruit. He made sure to be alert; he didn’t want to make any mistakes. After all, if Aizawa was right, it wouldn’t be a good idea to let their guard down in the forest… While Kaminari dutifully and calmly guarded the wagon, Eri led Midoriya deeper and deeper into the untouched woods, away from the road. Midoriya looked back and frowned; the cart disappeared from sight behind him. “How far away is your father, Eri?” he asked. “And what happened to him?” Eri bit her lip, and paused, keeping her head down. As they stopped, Midoriya looked to her with concern. “Eri?” he checked, quietly. “Please answer me.” Eri let out a whimper...and, without warning, pulled her hand away from Midoriya’s, as if his touch burned her. He stepped back with some alarm as her tiny, frail shoulders began to shake. He could hear her starting to cry. “...You’re nice,” she said very, very softly. “No one...no one has been nice to me...in such a long time…” She gulped and looked up to the teen with misty eyes. “I’m so sorry.” No sooner had Eri uttered the words...then suddenly, someone leapt out from the bushes behind Midoriya and grabbed hold of him. Midoriya gasped and whirled to try and fight back...but another figure lunged from behind a tree and grabbed hold of his other arm. Izuku’s eyes widened: both of his attackers were strapping, masculine figures, dressed in long black robes, with plague doctor’s masks upon their faces. “Wh-What is this?!” he shouted, and struggled to break free. “Let...LET GO OF ME!” “Good work, Eri.” Midoriya froze as he heard the words...and his eyes widened as a third figure stepped out from behind another tree, moving over to Eri’s side. They placed a dark-gloved hand on the girl’s shoulder; she whined like a kicked puppy and shuddered, clearly repulsed but unwilling to move away from the figure’s touch. This figure wore a long green coat, lined with unusual violet fur. He, too, wore a plague doctor’s mask...but this one was not the plain ivory visage the two strikers wore. His was decorated in red and gold, and covered only everything below his eyes. The golden eyes in question narrowed, a supercilious gleam in them. “Very good work, my daughter,” the voice behind the mask intoned. “Thank you for helping us, Izuku Midoriya. We have much to discuss.” The figure then pointed off in another direction, and uttered one command to the two cloaked men: “Take him!” “KAMINARI!” Midoriya yelled at the top of his lungs, struggling harder as one of the two attackers pulled a short club out of their robes. “KAMINARI! KAMINAR-!” WHACK! The world became fuzzy and filled with plain. Midoriya’s voice slurred unhealthily. “...K-Kamin-ar-i…” WHACK! Izuku knew no more. However, his cries had not gone unheard. Kaminari jolted as he heard Midoriya call to him with what sounded like real panic, the apple dropping from his hands and rolling across the dirt. It stopped right in front of the gray mare, who, thinking it was a treat, nibbled it happily. It was a lucky thing the apple distracted the horse, because the moment Kaminari heard the calls stop just as suddenly as they had come, he was on the move. He bounced off the wagon and bounded into the woods, calling back as he ran in the direction he’d seen Eri taking Midoriya. “MIDORIYA! MIDORIYA, I’M COMING!” Naturally, he was too late. Kaminari skidded to a halt, his expression horror struck, as he saw a second wagon not so far ahead...but this was no produce cart drawn by a farmer’s horse. Instead, it was a prison wagon, a cage-cart drawn by two black horses. He saw the driver’s plague doctor mask glint in the sunlight, and heard them laugh jeeringly as they whipped the horses up...then, the wagon rolled out of sight. Just before it disappeared, he caught sight of Midoriya, slumped over in the prisoner’s cage...alongside Eri and another figure he couldn’t rightly make out. Once it was gone, Kaminari stood stock still for several seconds, processing with dread what he had just witnessed...then, cursing under his breath, he dashed back through the woods to his own cart. Chiyo had just finished her apple, and let out a startled sound as the blonde-haired, yellow-eyed youth leapt back into the driver’s seat, tugging and cracking the reins. “C’mon, old girl!” he shouted. “We have to get back to the farm! This is an emergency!” The horse neighed, and the cart was soon turned around. Then, with another crack and a click, Kaminari rode the rattling wagon back down the road towards Aizawa’s farm as fast as he could…

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“Kidnapped?!” “Yeah!” Kaminari confirmed, emphatically. “I saw it happen, Mr. Aizawa! They were riding off with him; I couldn’t hope to catch up in time!” Aizawa grinded his teeth; a look of intense worry burned in his eyes. “Which way were they going?” he demanded, standing up from his desk in the room Kaminari had found him in. “South? West?” “East,” Kaminari replied. “Due East, no doubt of it.” “And you said the driver of the cart wore a plague doctor’s mask?” “Yes, sir!” Aizawa sighed. “There’s no doubt of it then,” he murmured, in an ominous tone of mortal dread. “He’s being taken to Yakuza.” Kaminari gulped nervously. Everyone in the Kingdom of Ua knew about Yakuza: it was one of two neighboring kingdoms, which had been feuding with the land for years on end. It was ruled by the evil King Kai; its armies were ruthless, and its defenses plentiful. While outright war had not been done in many years, relations between the kingdoms were still intensely...well...tense, to say the least. No one in Ua ever went to Yakuza...and lived to tell about it. “Wh-why would they take Midoriya?” Kaminari almost whimpered. “I can make a few guesses,” growled Aizawa curtly, as he dressed himself in his best hat and coat and looked to Kaminari. “I’m going to to take the new stallion to the castle. I have friends among the King’s Knights, they might be able to help us.” “I’ll go with you!” “No,” ordered Aizawa. “You stay here. I already have one of you in danger. I’m not getting you into any more trouble, and I don’t want you causing it, either.” “But I want to help!” “I know,” sighed Aizawa. “But this is no time for rash action!” “This is the PERFECT time for rash action!” Kaminari almost screamed out. “They took Izuku, and who knows what they’re gonna-?!” He stopped short at a burning, searing glare from Aizawa. He ducked his head and looked away. “...I’m...I’m sorry…” “Stay. Here,” Aizawa commanded, then added more softly, “Please.” Kaminari said nothing, but remained where he was. Aizawa looked the blonde haired boy over a time or two...then sighed again and shook his head, before hustling out of the house. There wasn’t a moment to lose. For a time, Kaminari stayed perfectly still where he stood. He listened. He waited. And the instant he heard the sound of Aizawa whistling to his horse, and the sound of the horse hooves galloping off into the distance...his eyes lifted. He looked to the beanstalk outside...and then moved to Aizawa’s desk. He hastily pulled out a small piece of parchment, and scribbled a message onto it. You said to leave you a note next time, the message read. I’m sorry, Master. I have to help my friend. I have to make up for my mistakes. Signed, Kaminari. With this managed, Kaminari clambered out of the open window, and crept towards the mighty beanstalk. He glanced from side to side, to make sure no one was looking...then, without another thought, he latched onto its based, grabbed hold of its stems and leaves...and began, once more, the long climb up...Up...UP…

“I’ll save you, Midoriya,” he promised, as he soon climbed up past the roof of the house, and kept right on climbing. “I’ll save you...one way or another…”

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“UUUURRRRRRRROOOORRRRRPH...mph...weak…” Bakugou snorted as he lounged back on the couch in the den of his and Kirishima’s home. His stomach was ever so slightly distended; just enough to make the strong, deep crevices between his six-pack muscles a little less well-defined, a clear but very small curve of fullness along his middle. One of his hands was resting upon his gut, covering his deep, black navel. He didn’t rub his stomach, didn’t scratch it...simply let his hand rest there, the limb rising and falling as his gut moved with his breathing. The ogre’s other arm was slung behind his messy-haired head as he glared with his usual, grouchy scowl at the ceiling, red eyes smoldering as he seemed to look through the ceiling itself...thinking and thinking. The (relatively) light meal he’d enjoyed left a pleasant warmth in his belly...but was not truly full yet. It barely made the slightest dent in his gut, and he knew he could fit more. But nothing around the house seemed to his satisfaction...and he had a feeling he knew what he wanted. What was stopping him? He knew what his stomach desired. He’d never denied it before. So why was he purposefully avoiding it now? He couldn’t even blame his appetite: he clearly wanted it, so what was holding him back? He didn’t know. This was...annoying. “Pissing me off,” he all but hissed to himself, fingers curling over his bare belly and twitching slightly with his ever-present anger. “Damn that little snack-rat...how’d that little fucker get inside my head anyhow…” He growled and shook his head, trying to push away the thoughts and the ever-repeating words. But they wouldn’t go away. He covered his ears, snarling and pulling at his hair. “Die, you stupid thoughts!” he snapped, trying to think of a way to force them out of his mind. He couldn’t take this much more…! He froze in the middle of his thoughts. His eyes widened as his ears pricked up. The giant listened closely. He could have sworn...he’d heard the scampering of tiny feet. He sniffed the air...and growled again, almost like a wild bear. “Fee, Fi, Fo-Fuck it. I don’t have time for this shit…” The giant swung himself out of his seat and onto the floor...but he didn’t stomp his way towards the source of the sound and scent. Instead, he cautiously began to prowl towards it, moving almost like a giant cat. He was fairly certain the little rat hadn’t realized he was around, and he wanted to keep it that way… The giant tip-toed out of the living room and towards the main hall. He peered around the corner, and his red eyes widened at what he saw. He looked both surprised and angry at the same time. Creeping across the floor was a familiar little fellow - no bigger than a mouse, compared to the man-eating man-mountain - with yellow hair and matching eyes. He nervously moved across the floor, peering from side to side and looking all around. “Kirishima?” he called out. “Hello? Is anybody home?” “Yeah. Someone’s home, little snack.” Kaminari jumped...then squealed with fright as he saw Bakugou step out from hiding. The giant’s teeth were bared in a vicious snarl, his fists clenched and visibly shaking. With a comical holler, Kaminari flailed and turned around, trying to make a mad dash back the way he had come… “COME BACK HERE, RAT!” Katsuki roared. “I’LL KILL YOU!” “That’s not a good incentive for me to come back!” Kaminari called back. Bakugou just let out a wordless shout of anger, and lumbered forward. In three long, strong strides, he moved in front of Kaminari. Kaminari skidded to a halt as the Giant glared and lifted one massive boot over him... “DIE, RUNT!” “YIPE!” Kaminari barely had time to scramble out of the way before the giant’s foot slammed into the floor. THOOM! Denki stumbled as the floor shook with the force of the stomp. He hit the floor was was briefly winded...and barely had time to lift a hand in a pleading gesture, a futile attempt to stop the inevitable, as Bakugou’s own giant fingers came swooping down towards him and snatched him. Kaminari cried out as he was hoisted into the air; vertigo hit him in an instant, and he felt woozy...but only for a second or two. He had much worse things to worry about as he was soon held up to the giant’s face. “What are you doin’ back here?” sneered Bakugou. “I...I was lookin’ for-GACK!” Kaminari choked and gasped as Bakuguou gave him a squeeze. His ribs felt nearly ready to cave in, and his spine creaked forebodingly. “I don’t give a damn,” Katsuki snorted, then smirked. “Guess it’s my luck you decided to try and rob us again. This time...you’re not goin’ home, runt.” Kaminari let out a terrified moan as Bakugou licked his lips. “I haven’t had a human to eat in months,” the ogre rumbled, his free hand rubbing his belly up and down. “Now, I’ll finally get a small taste again...thanks for comin’ to me, meat.” So saying, Bakugou closed his eyes and opened his jaws. Kaminari cried out as he was brought closer to the stinking hot maw of the man-eating monster, the tongue twitching as the teeth parted to reveal the slimy chasm of pink, soft flesh that would consume him. “W-Wait...WAIT, JUST A MINUTE! WAIT, PLEASE!” Kaminari yowled as the mouth loomed closer and closer, and he struggled in the giant’s grip. “I DIDN’T COME HERE TO STEAL, I PROMISE! PLEASE!” Bakugou stopped. His eyes opened...and he pulled Kaminari away from his jaws, closing them and glaring at the small morsel. “You’re...not here to steal?” he repeated, skeptically. Kaminari - relieved to be away from that mouth and the odor of digesting meat that came from it - sighed and nodded in confirmation. Bakugou glared darkly. “Why should I believe you?” “Um...b-because it’s true?” Kaminari eeped out. Bakugou’s glare did not soften. “Listen,” Kaminari said, and took a breath to steady himself before going on, still wiggling to try and find some semblance of comfort between the boa constrictors that were Bakugou’s mighty digits. “L-Listen, I...I’m sorry. For what I did last time. I know it was wrong, a-and I won’t do it again.” “Apology not accepted,” sneered Bakugou. “And if that’s all you’ve got, I’m eating you.” “It’s not, it’s not!” exclaimed Kaminari, desperately. “Please...wh-where’s Kirishima? I need his help!” “Stupid hair’s not here. He won’t be back till tomorrow,” shrugged Bakugou, carelessly. Kaminari looked mortified. “But...but...oh, no...now what do I do?” the human worried, speaking more to himself than the giant. “By tomorrow...b-by tomorrow, he could be dead…” Bakugou looked the tiny morsel up and down, and tilted his huge head curiously. “What do you need that extra’s help for, anyway?” he groused. “Midoriya. My friend. He’s been kidnapped.” Bakugou’s eyes widened anew. “Kidnapped?” he repeated, voice soft and somewhat shaky. “Yeah,” Kaminari nodded, his expression dour. “He...he was tricked…a-and a bunch of creeps from a rival kingdom took him away. I...I was too late to stop them. I though...maybe Kirishima could...you know...help me rescue him. Being a giant and all. But...without his help…” “Without his help, you’ll be better off,” snorted Bakugou. “Where is this kingdom?” Kaminari looked up, seemingly stunned. “Wait...you mean...YOU’LL help me?” “Psh. Don’t think of it as me helping you. I’m just helping myself,” Bakugou snorted, and smirked cruelly as he jabbed his free thumb to his chest, head held high. “No one’s gonna kill that green-haired, worthless idiot except ME. Besides, I’ve been on a ‘diet’ recently, you might say…” He licked his teeth as his stomach let out an excited burbling noise. “...I think it’s time I broke it. So...where do I need to go to eat?” Kaminari gulped nervously. “Um...uh...y-you need to go due east, f-from our home. I...I can point the way if you...um...maybe...p-promise not to eat me?” Kaminari smiled hopefully. Bakugou glared. “I don’t make promises to snacks,” he growled...then paused before going on, slowly: “Still...it’ll be hard to find the place without a guide...I guess I can let you live a little longer.” Kaminari sighed with even greater relief. “Thanks,” he breathed...then squeaked like a rodent as the giant quickly tucked him into his vest pocket. “Stay right there, and if you do anything stupid, I’ll squash you flat,” Bakugou grunted. “Now come on, snack. You’ve got another annoying bug to save…” He grinned viciously as he began to march out of the house. “...And I’ve got dinner waiting for me now. Heh heh heh…” Kaminari shuddered as he heard the giant smack his chops hungrily, and looked out over the white and blue landscape of the Kingdom Above the Clouds as his “ride” stepped out into the daylight and went on his way. “I hope I don’t live to regret this,” Denki murmured to himself. “Hang on tight, Midoriya...I’m coming…” “Ahem!” “Uh...oh, uh...w-we’re coming.” “Hmph. Better. Don’t make me regret not eating you…” “I’ll try...h-heh…”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Izuku Midoriya groaned; a splitting headache greeted him as he opened his eyes. Breathing, itself, required great focus, which only made the throbbing, stinging pain in his cranium worse. Something prickled like nettles inside his nostrils - it smelled like ammonia - rousing him from the bleary, black haze he’d been in for some time. He could still feel the weight of the club against his skull, and hoped he didn’t have any lasting damage to worry about. Midoriya sneezed as the odor became stronger, and shook his head with a louder groan, trying to clear it and focus on the fuzzy, faded-out world around him. “That’s enough,” a voice grunted. “He’s coming to.” The scent went away, and that’s when Midoriya became aware of a few things. One, his hands and ankles were both bound with what felt like rough hemp cord. Two, a large wooden post or pole was against his back, his arms wrapped around it behind him. Three, as he shifted his bound feet he realized they brushed against splintery wood. Finally, vision and total awareness returned to him...and Midoriya felt a chill go up his spine. The location appeared to be a city square, a huge black castle not so far in the distance, and various buildings all around him. This, however, was no city square he’d encountered before...and the people around him were the most unsettling part of all. There were hundreds gathered all around him, and while many of them looked perfectly ordinary in dress and appearance...at least a third of them were wearing dark robes and bone-white plague doctor’s masks, thee black lenses blankly staring at Izuku upon the pyre he was stationed on. At the base of the pyre, Midoriya became aware of a flicker of flame. He looked down and gulped nervously: one of the Plague Doctors carried a torch. Beside him stood King Kai: his purple eyes peering over the crest of his ruby-and-gold mask, dressed still in his expensive-looking green and purple coat. Half-hidden behind the King was Eri, who was visibly shaking, eyes darting about to look anywhere except at Midoriya. Midoriya blinked at Eri...then looked up with a glare at King Kai. “Where am I?” he asked, bluntly. “Wh-What’s going on?” “Welcome to Shie, the capital city of Yakuza,” King Kai answered, and Midoriya could sense the smirk behind the mask. “I am-” “I know who you are,” Midoriya said, trying to sound as brave as he could, but unable to stop shaking. “What do you want with me?” Kai blinked slowly. “Why don’t you guess, filthy Uan?” he responded, his voice cold and cutting. Midoriya bit his lip. “In the past few months, the Beanstalk you grew has helped make your kingdom’s capital all the more prosperous,” Kai decided to explain, his voice business-like. “I would like to know how you were able to create such a thing, and where all the wealth came from.” “And why should I tell you that?” Kai narrowed his eyes, and with a slight motion of his head, the robed figure holding a torch stepped forward. Midoriya shuddered, but held up his head, straightening against the post as he glared defiantly. “Y-You can do what you want to me,” he said softly. “I’ll never tell you anything. If someone like you figured it out, who knows what you could do!” “I can already think of a few possibilities,” Kai said, coolly. “But I would recommend reconsidering. Burning to death is a TERRIBLE way to go. Trust me.” Midoriya’s defiant expression did not shift. “Please don’t hurt him…” Both Kai and Midoriya looked down at the furtive little voice that spoke. Kai’s eyes widened as he found Eri tugging on his pant leg. “Please...j-just let him go,” she pleaded. “H-He’s nice, he didn’t-AH!” Kai sneered as one of his minions struck the girl across the face, knocking her back. Kai checked his leg and sighed with relief when he saw nothing wrong. “Never touch me,” he said, in a soft, warning tone. “How often do I have to tell you, Eri? You. Do. Not. TOUCH ME.” Eri sniffled and whimpered, holding her cheek; a bright red mark was visible upon it. “Leave her alone!” snapped Midoriya. “She’s your daughter, isn’t she?” “She’s useful on occasion,” Kai answered, in the same icy tone as before. “But she’s very undisciplined. A father is supposed to discipline his child when they misbehave, yes?” Midoriya looked ill. He looked to Eri with sympathy. “Are you okay?” he asked, gently. Eri blinked, clearly not sure how to respond to the question under the circumstances. “She is far from your concern,” Kai intruded. “I’ll ask again: will you tell us where you got those so-called Magic Beans that brought that stalk to fruition? This is your last chance.” Midoriya struggled against his bonds for a moment, but the knots were strong and taut. He heard several in the crowd snicker. Sighing in defeat, he glared at Kai, who stared up patiently. “Even if I knew where you could find them,” he said, firmly, “I would never tell you.” “Very well,” shrugged King Kai. “In that case, you are of no use to me.” He held out a hand, twitching his fingers in a beckoning gesture. The minion holding the torch handed it over. Kai then turned to address the crowd. “Citizens of Yakuza!” he thundered. “The enemy agent has refused to tell us the secret of the Magic Beanstalk. Today, we burn him, and purge his sorry existence from our clean and well-ordered society. Tomorrow, we shall treat those who live on his farm the same way...and then cut down the mighty beanstalk itself!” The crowd cheered, lifting their fists and shouting jeers at Midoriya. Kai smiled darkly behind his mask, amethyst eyes glittering maliciously as he turned back to Izuku. “Any last words?” Kai hissed. Midoriya blinked once...and gave his reply quickly. PHUT! Kai stumbled back...and his expression became one of livid horror as he felt the slimy substance on his cheek...felt his face burning, felt the hives itch and puff up… He glared with psychotic, feral fury at Midoriya, who smirked back with undying defiance after spitting in the evil king’s face. Kai snarled, and without further hesitation, hurled the torch onto the pyre. The kindling at the base of the pyre began to crackle and burn in an instant. Midoriya’s smile faded, and he began to struggle again. The crowd cheered louder than before, laughing and mocking Midoriya’s struggles as he fought for dear life. Smoke was wisping up, and growing rapidly in density...the fire would be burning fiercely in a very short while. If smoke inhalation didn’t kill him, the flames themselves would. Either way, it would be a lingering, painful demise. “HELP! HELP ME!” he called out, struggling to loosen the knots. Kai glared with triumphant anger as his robed minions taunted Midoriya by mockingly screaming for help, and the crowd pointed and hollered. “NO! NO, LET HIM GO! STOP!” Eri cried out, as two of the masked men held her back. “Perhaps you’ll scream out the answer while you burn, you diseased piece of trash,” sneered Kai. “If not...at least tomorrow we’ll make sure your family suffers the same fate.” Midoriya struggled harder in response, which made Kai chuckle. He crossed his arms, the dark king patiently watching the fire rise and the smoke billow, quickly growing into thicker and thicker curls of vapor...it wouldn’t be long before Midoriya began coughing and wheezing. He was going to enjoy every last second of this he thought, shuddering with revulsion as he touched the stinging portion of his face the boy had spat on. “Bring me my balm,” he muttered, looking towards one of his minions. “I need to-” THUMP-A-THUMP-A-THUMP… Kai froze...and the crowd soon went silent...as a huge, pounding sound echoed through the air. The ground began to tremble, and all across the city went very quiet, confused and frightened as the noise grew steadily louder, and the vibrations more intense… Midoriya blinked, and looked upwards, as did Eri and Kai and nearly everyone else gathered in the city square. Midoriya saw a huge, towering silhouette - at least as large as the castle itself - approaching the area… “Kirishima?” he whispered to himself hopefully, with an optimistic smile.

“A Giant!” exclaimed King Kai, and barked orders to some of his soldiers as he moved a few steps away from the pyre, the people of the city clutching each other, their chatter turning into frightened noises as the King shouted and cried out: “Get to the edges of the city! Fan out! Do everything in your power, but don’t let that...that THING pollute my capital!” The soldiers hurried to move, forgetting all about Midoriya, whose pyre still burned. Midoriya himself had almost forgotten, himself, given the circumstances.: the adventurous lad’s smile quickly faded into a look of confusion and fear as he realized the hair didn’t look like Kirishima’s...and as the giant moved closer and closer, and people in the city began to fretfully murmur, he soon saw the glare of two glowing red eyes. So like Kirishima’s, yet so unlike them. A flash of green and orange caught his eye...and that’s when Midoriya knew. “B-Bakugou?!”

To Be Continued...

[love-and-monsters]

Starfaller

Agender tiefling X gn reader. 7,005 words.

You’ve fallen into a strange world. Things are unfamiliar and strange, but at least you’ve got a cute doctor to look out for you.

“Come now, sugar. Open your eyes.” Someone was shaking your shoulder gently, but insistently. You didn’t want to wake up. Pain radiated along your back, growing sharper the closer to wakefulness you got. “Up you get. There you go.”

Your eyelids flickered open. Bright sunlight fille d the room with a blinding yellow-white glow. You were lying on some kind of cushy couch, across the room from a set of large, glass doors. The room looked like some sort of old-fashioned apothecary, with pale wooden walls and a floor. Dried and partially-dried herbs hung from the lofted ceiling. Cabinets with glass doors lined the room, full of plants and vials of liquid and metal devices made for measuring. The smell was sharp and made your nose itch faintly.

“Here. Drink this.” Someone cupped your head in their hand. A cup pressed against your lips. It was cool, and the water that flowed into your desiccated mouth tasted pure and crystalline. You gulped it furiously. Oh, god, it was so good, like someone was pouring a sparkling stream of energy down your throat.

“That’s it. Good.” The cup moved away from your lips. You made a quiet noise of protest. “I know, but you have to go slowly. You’ll make yourself sick if you don’t.”

You turned your head, wincing as the motion pulled your muscles. Every breath hurt, like you’d pulled every muscle in your chest and back. The person who had been allowing you to drink was sitting next to you, hand still resting on the back of your head. “There you are. You’re looking a bit better now, aren’t you?”

They smiled, revealing needle-sharp fangs. You felt something in your stomach drop and twist. This person wasn’t a human. They were pale, with nearly pure white skin and white-blonde hair. Their eyes were pale as well, with pink markings along their cheekbones and forehead. Their hair was tied back into a short braid, carefully woven around their enormous, curving horns. They wore a long, pale robe, a long, thin tail with a thick tuft of white-blond hair at the tip. Their feet ended in short, white fur and white, cloven hooves. Their eyes gleamed oddly in the sunlight, their pupils several shades too pale.

“Oh, dear. Lie back down, you look awfully wan. Might have sat up a bit too quick.” Their voice was soft and accented in a way you couldn’t quite identify. Maybe vaguely southern? “Here. Drink.”

Another cup was pressed to your lips. This one was warm and tasted savory. It made your stomach growl. You were starving, lightheaded with hunger. Your fingers fumbled to cling to the bowl, trying to gulp it faster. “Easy there. Slowly.” The bowl was tugged from your mouth once more. “Though it’s good you have an appetite.”

Your caretaker allowed you to drink slowly, pressing the cup to your lips and taking it back away in intervals. Eventually, you managed to drink all of it, your tongue flicking out to get the last few drops from the bottom. “There you are.” Your caretaker ran a hand over your forehead. “All right. It’s good that you got some food in you.”

You sagged back onto the couch. The longer you remained awake, the worse the pain in your torso was getting. Every breath was a struggle. “You must be in a lot of pain,” your caretaker murmured. “Hold on. I’ll get you something for that.” They moved away to one of their cabinets and returned with a spoon and a tiny vial of a green liquid. “This should help with the pain. It’s quite potent, though, and it won’t taste nice.” They tipped a few drops onto the spoon. “Here.”

A flicker of concern moved through you, but it seemed silly not to trust them. They seemed to be taking care of you, at least. The spoon touched your lips and you sipped the droplets from it.

The effect was immediate. For a moment, your mouth tasted sharp and nasty, then a wave of numbness spread outward from everywhere the drops had touched. You sagged back onto the couch. Your eyelids drooped. “Get some sleep. It’ll help you recover,” your caretaker said. “I’ll be back to check on you later.” The world fuzzed and faded as they stood and started to walk away.

You woke again some time later, this time under your own volition. The sun had set, making the room mercifully dim. You were still in pain, but it seemed distant, less urgent.

Grimacing, you rolled onto your side. The caretaker was nowhere you could see. Across the room, you could see the beautiful night sky through the window.

It was more breathtaking than any night sky you had ever seen before. There were thousands of stars, more than you could ever remember seeing. There were even variations of color across the sky, from dark blue to purple to even a few splashes of green. Sitting high at the apex of the sky were two gently glowing moons.

Your breath caught in your throat. The caretaker had obviously not been human, which had been strange, but this. This confirmed it. You weren’t just in some strange place with nonhuman creatures. You were in some entirely different world.

From behind your head, a door creaked. You twisted around, ignoring the sharp pain in your chest. “Ah, you’re awake again. Good.” Your caretaker placed a basket on the table and swept off their coat. “How are you feeling?”

Your voice cracked as you tried to speak. “Wh- Where…”

“Here. Wet your throat. You’ve been out for a while.” They swept over to you, holding a cup. “There you are. Can you hold it yourself? Good.”

Again, the water was cool and clear and you drank it desperately. “Where,” you sputtered as soon as your mouth was no longer achingly dry, “Where am I?”

“Ah.” The caretaker took the bowl back form your hands. “I take it you realized you’re not home anymore.”

“There’s two moons,” you said. “And… and you’re not… human.”

“Mn. No. I’m not. Your Fall must have been particularly bad if you’ve never even met a tiefling before.” They gave you a sympathetic look. “You’re fortunate you weren’t more injured, really. Only a few cracked ribs and some bad bruising.”

“Then where am I?” you insisted. The caretaker gave you a soft, soothing smile.

“In specific, you’re in my house, the healer’s residence of Torthall. It’s a small town in the kingdom of Ristoranth- though I suppose we haven’t been a proper kingdom in a couple of decades.” They paused. “But that’s not terribly helpful to you, is it? Hm. Well, have you ever heard of the theory of multiple worlds?”

You mulled that over. “Like multiple universes?”

“Mm, yes. Roughly. There are many different worlds, and a lot of them overlap. Some of them overlap rarely, and some of them have many overlaps. We call the ones with many overlaps hub worlds.” They made a vague gesture at the world around you. “This world is a hub world. When two worlds overlap, things have a tendency to slip through the gaps. Sometimes they’re small, but sometimes, people slip through.”

You took a deep, slow breath. “I slipped through the gap between your world and my world?”

“Yes. That’s pretty much the summation of it. There’s some more metaphysical aspects to it, some complicated things that I won’t even pretend to understand, but the basic gist of it all is that people often slip through the cracks between the universes and land here. Usually there are a few dozen Starfallers every year. We call them Starfallers,” they clarified. “Usually they fall from the sky, out of a flash of light. The scars last for a few days, like large stars.” They tilted their head back toward the windows. “We could probably still see it, if we went outside.”

You curled your fingers around the blankets. “How do I get home?”

The caretaker’s face went still. “Ah.” The noise was soft and hesitant and confirmed all of your worst fears. “It’s… I don’t want to say that it’s impossible. There have been a few Starfallers who have gotten back. But… Hm. It’s a bit like we’re at the bottom of a funnel. It’s quite easy to get down here, but it’s difficult to get back up. And yours… well, if your world has no active magic component, then it’s likely quite far away from ours. It’s not impossible, but it’s not likely for you to get back either.”

You swallowed hard. The back of your eyes stung. “So, I’m stuck here.”

They folded their hands in their lap. “I’m afraid it’s the most likely scenario.”

You were trying to keep your face still, but your lips were twitching insistently downward. Your breath kept catching and stuttering in your chest. “Oh, dear. Here, it’s all right.” The caretaker fished something out of their pocket and passed it to you. You buried your face in the handkerchief as the tears started falling. “There, there. I know.”

You snuffled, mopping at your eyes. “I’m s-sorry, I hate crying in front of other people.”

“Oh, hush. Don’t apologize.” They smiled softly. “I could turn my back, if you’d like.” You snorted. “But seriously, I’m a healer. I’ve seen many people cry. It won’t make me think any less of you.”

They stroked along your back as you cried until, finally, you had exhausted your water supply. You slumped back onto your pillows. “Feeling any better?” the caretaker asked. They brushed a hand along the top of your head, then swiped away a few of your tears with a thumb.

“I don’t know.” There was still a knot of emotion in your chest, but it had loosened ever so slightly. “I think so.”

“You should probably get some more sleep,” the caretaker said. They stood up. “We can keep talking in the morning.” They yawned. “Both of us need some sleep, really. I’ll see you in the morning.” They gave you an affectionate pat on the head before striding out of the room.

You had expected to have trouble falling asleep, but crying had apparently taken it out of you. Before you knew it, you were blinking your eyes open in bright sunlight. The room was full of the sound and smell of cooking eggs. The caretaker was wearing a purple and gold robe, bent over a fire. “Good morning,” they said, smiling over their shoulder at you.

“Morning,” you croaked. You pushed yourself upright. Your muscles were still sore, but you felt better than you had the night before. “Do I get breakfast?”

The caretaker laughed. “I’m certainly not going to starve you. Though you should eat slowly. Starfalling can do some strange things to your insides.”

You gratefully accepted your plate of eggs. They looked and tasted pretty much exactly like chicken eggs, which was a relief. The caretaker sat down next to you, chewing idly on their own breakfast.

“I don’t know your name,” you said hesitantly after a few moments of eating in silence.

“Silaris. You can just call me Sil.” They smiled. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Better. I think.”

“Mm. That’s good. You’ll probably be able to get out of bed today, though you should take it easy. I don’t want you to do anything that will exacerbate your injuries.”

You took a careful bite of eggs off your fork and chewed it slowly. “What, uh. What happens now? I mean… what happens now that I’m here?”

Sil lowered their fork. “I’ll get you in contact with the Starfaller agency. They’ve got a small fund they set aside for Starfaller relief, so you’ll get an allowance for a few months until you’re adjusted. They’ll probably also interview you about what you did in your world, to see what relevant skills you have.” They patted your hand. “Don’t look so worried, sugar. We’re going to make sure you’re safe here.”

“I don’t know if I have any relevant skills I can use here,” you said. “I worked in tech support back in my world. Unless you need someone who’s good with computers here…” Your breaths were starting to come more shallowly. The edges of panic were creeping into your voice.

“Hey. Hey.” Sil took hold of your hands. “Breathe. You’re all right.” They smiled soothingly at you. “If you don’t have any skills that will work for this world, we can get you apprenticed to someone. I’m sure there’s someone who can take you on.”

You took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

“It’s certainly no trouble. Right now, you shouldn’t worry too much. Just try to focus on getting better.” Sil stood. “Your appetite seems healthy, at least.” Your fork scraped against your plate and you looked down. It was empty. You’d been absently shoveling food into your mouth the entire time they’d been speaking. “Ah, don’t look embarrassed. It’s good. If you weren’t hungry, I’d be worried.” They stood, taking your plate. “Give me a moment.”

They left the room. You took their absence as an opportunity to fully assess yourself. Aside from being painfully stiff and needing to breathe shallowly, you felt all right. Your chest was bound in bandages. Bracing yourself against the couch, you pushed yourself to your feet.

Your legs were shaky, but willing to support your weight. You took a few cautious steps. Your side blazed in protest. Every breath made your damaged ribs throb. Grinding your teeth, you took a few cautious steps across the room.

“Oh, I wasn’t expecting you to be walking around so quickly.” You looked over. Sil was standing in the doorway, eyebrows raised. “You must be in better shape than I thought. How do you feel?”

“It hurts,” you admitted. “And-” The wooziness you’d been holding at bay by sheer force of will finally pushed its way into your head. You wobbled on your feet.

“Oh, dear. All right.” Sil half caught you, half propped you back up. “Sit back down.” They pushed you back over to the couch, easing you down. “It’s good that you can be up and about. Any nausea, intensifying pain?”

You shook your head. “I’m okay.”

“Good. Here, take some of this.” Sil held out a tiny, thimble-sized glass with a pale, cloudy liquid in it. “It’s an infusion of a few herbs, often referred to as ‘bone-knit’. It’ll help with the pain.”

You tossed the liquid back and grimaced. It was bitter beyond belief. “Ugh!”

“Not pleasant, I know.” Sil took the bottle back from you. “I’m going to need to go out for a little bit, just to get some more supplies. Just rest while I’m gone, all right? I’ll be back soon.”

“Sure,” you said, leaning back onto the couch. Sil smiled, gave you an affectionate pat on the head, then turned and walked out of the room.

You heard the door open and shut. Your ribs prickled, not just aching, but also itching. It was constant, insistent, and it made it impossible to sleep. After several minutes of trying, you gave up.

Walking was still a little shaky, but you managed to complete a circuit of the room. Most items were fairly uninteresting, or at least not anything you found helpful. One of the cabinets had a series of medical instruments that looked only vaguely familiar, not that you had much experience with medical devices. Another cabinet contained strange herbs and stones, each of them labeled. A leather-bound journal sat on the bottom of the shelf. You picked it up, flicking through the pages. Drawings of leaves and stones and even a few pressed flowers sat on the pages.

On first inspection, you couldn’t read most of the writing and assumed it was in some strange language. After looking a little longer, though, you realized that the handwriting was simply so messy it looked like another language. With some squinting and puzzling, you could decode most of it. It was a handwritten journal, listing the locations, growing seasons, and medical properties of each plant.

When Sil returned home, you were still flipping through their notebook. “Sorry I’m late,” they said. “I got caught up in town. There was a toddler with a bit of a cold and his father was terribly worried. What are you reading?”

You closed the journal, a little embarrassed. “I was just looking through your journal. It’s interesting.”

“It’s not anything truly spectacular. Just my own notes on what sort of plants and stones have what sort of uses. I’m sure you could find a basic medical book that has the exact same information,” Sil said, but they looked faintly pleased. “Speaking of reading, I got you a few things.” They swung their bag off their shoulder and rummaged inside it. “Some books. Basic history, basic science, basic culture.”

You took the books from Sil and flipped through them. They had thick pages and were mostly illustrations. “These are books for children.”

“Well, yes,” Sil said, scratching at the back of their neck. “I’m afraid so. I’ve got a couple more advanced books for you, but I though you should start with those first. You’ll need to learn about our world, and children’s books do give the most basic knowledge.” You grimaced.

“I suppose.” You picked up the book titled The History of Ristoranth. “Thank you. You didn’t have to get these for me.”

“As I keep telling you, it’s really no trouble. Start reading. I’ll get us some lunch.” Sil swept out of the room and you picked up the book and started flipping through it.

It was amazing how quickly you settled into a routine. You spent much of your time trying to understand the world you were suddenly in. Despite some strange similarities, like the languages being identical, there were some massive differences in the basic laws of nature.

“I’m sorry, you can grow new rocks?” you asked. Over the past couple of weeks, you’d taken to confirming your most surprising discoveries with Sil. There had been an embarrassing few days where you’d assumed the kingdom had actually been named after the first Queen’s three pet birds, until Sil had explained that was a metaphor.

“They were her advisors. Or consorts. No one’s sure. But they always were referred to as her birds in fable, because they were each nicknamed after a sort of bird. Anyway, they may have had shape changing abilities, but they weren’t really her pet birds. Didn’t you think it was odd that she went to them for advice?”

Given some of the other things you read about, the idea of the Queen using real birds as her advisors didn’t seem that unusual. “There were mentions of her going to animals for advice before.”

“Those weren’t real animals. Those were spirits.” Sil made it sound like this should be patently obvious. You sighed.

“Anyway. You have… Farm quarries?”

“Specialists grow new gemstones all the time. I mean, you need a seed gemstone, and some quarries just produce metals or certain forms of clay and such, but yes. They do.” Sil looked at you questioningly. “How does your world get new materials?”

“We find them,” you said. “I mean, we can dig them up. And things change form. Eventually you can make coal or graphite or something into diamonds. But you can’t just take a gemstone and make it get bigger.”

“From what I know, it’s a little more complicated than that. It’s about agitating the crystalline structures using the harmonic resonance of magic and transitioning new materials into the same structure as-” Sil trailed off. “Er. This isn’t making any sense to you, is it?”

You shook your head. “And this references weather control?”

“Oh. High level mages manage the weather.” You rubbed your forehead. “How do you ensure that the weather is appropriate in your world?”

“We don’t! We just try to predict it and deal with it as best we can.”

Sil’s brows furrowed. “But crops rely on certain weather patterns. How do you ensure best yield if you don’t have weather management?”

“I just said, we don’t. If something like that happens… food prices go up, I guess, or we do without.”

Sil looked disturbed at the very concept. That was one of the other things you’d noticed. Their world seemed… gentler, in some ways. More forgiving. The weather could be managed, and rare materials could be obtained with little effort. There wasn’t as much scarcity.

“It’s extropic,” you said. Sil gave you a bewildered look. “Er, instead of entropic. It’s extropic.”

“You’ve lost me.” Sil closed their book. “What are we talking about?”

“Your world. My world is entropic, which means it moves away from order and toward chaos. This world’s the opposite, extropic. It moves toward order. Through magic, I would assume. But it means that you aren’t as concerned with… I don’t know, losing resources.” You flipped your book closed. “It’s a lot less cutthroat than my world. I guess because you can always be reassured there will be enough to go around.”

Sil didn’t seem to entirely understand what you were musing about, but they understood that you were melancholy. “Do you miss your home?”

“Yeah. I do.” You pushed yourself to your feet, grimacing at the pain in your side. Sil had been giving you some kind of potion that stitched your ribs back together rapidly, but they still ached after a couple of weeks. “Even if it was a hard place to live, it had some advantages. Like the internet.”

“The what?”

“Ah. Never mind.” You stretched and groaned. “Ow.”

“I did tell you that you should rest,” Sil said. They had been growing more insistent on you staying in bed the longer you stayed with them, as you had grown more insistent on getting up and walking around. It felt wrong to be lying around in bed while Sil worked.

“I can’t just lie around forever. I want to help out,” you said. “I can’t keep being a drain on you.”

Sil’s face scrunched up. “People aren’t a drain. I became a healer to help people get better. I’m helping you do that right now.”

“Yeah, but you’re not getting paid to take care of me. I can at least pay you back another way.” Sil stared at you, head tilted slightly to one side. That seemed to be a difference in the worlds. There was some system that at least resembled capitalism, with shops and craftspeople and the like, but Sil never seemed concerned about money, even though they didn’t really charge most of the people who came to see them.

“You don’t need to pay me back,” Sil said, but you glared and they gave up on protesting. “All right, all right, if you’re going to insist on helping me, I suppose I wouldn’t want to turn down the extra help. Come. I’m making salves and antiseptics. It’s fairly easy. Shouldn’t strain you at all.”

Sil took you across the room to a small worktable covered in bundles of herbs. “All right. Take these three herbs and roll them in the binding sap, then mash it all together. It’ll create an antiseptic paste that also has some numbing agents in it. Very useful for bad cuts.”

You sat down across from Sil and started separating herbs and mixing them in the way Sil had instructed. It was slow, soothing work. “And you sell these?”

“Mn. Mostly. I’ve given some away, if the customer can’t pay.” Sil gathered a bundle of herbs together and examined them for a moment before tying them together. “You’re very concerned about money.”

“Oh. I don’t mean to be shallow or anything. It’s just… I was very concerned about money in my own world. I was pretty poor.” You carefully scooped every last bit of the paste you’d made into a jar and set it aside. “I was actually about to lose my apartment because I couldn’t pay rent. It was something I thought about a lot back then. I guess I can’t get rid of the worry even now.”

Sil seemed vaguely disturbed by the concept, but didn’t say anything. You got the idea they were refraining from critiquing your home out of sheer politeness.

“We’ll need to go to market a little later today,” they said, gently changing the subject. “Would you like to come?”

You perked up at that. “You’ll let me?” Sil had been cautious about letting you leave the house, probably out of an overabundance of caution.

“I can tell you’re getting cagey,” Sil said. They gave a small, fond smile. “I know I’ve been trying to keep you from doing very much, and I know that’s frustrating. I assure you, I won’t keep it up forever. I just don’t want you to be injured.” Their smile widened. “It would be a shame if anything happened to a cute thing like you.”

You started, face burning. Sil had a habit of dropping little compliments into conversation. Either they were unaware of how much it flustered you, or they found it amusing. Sil turned back to their bundle of herbs, leaving you to think on that.

Were they flirting with you? It was… well, you didn’t want to get ahead of yourself. They were cute, certainly. Their little fangs were almost painfully adorable, as was their habit of absently humming to themselves and the way their tail curled around one of their legs when they were nervous. And, well, their personality certainly wasn’t half bad either. Caring, gentle, a good sense of humor.

On the other hand… well, they might not be flirting with you. They seemed generally friendly, so it might just be them being nice, or caring for you because you were their patient. Would they even want to consider dating you after treating you as their ward? Were you even really crushing on them or would the feelings fade once you left them?

Sil cleared their throat. “Something wrong?”

You startled out of your thoughts. “Uh, no. Just thinking.”

Sil lifted an eyebrow. “You were staring at me.” Did they sound amused? Flattered? Pleased? Were you reading too much into this?

“I was just staring off into space,” you said. Sil looked at you for a moment longer, then went back to their work. You breathed a sigh of relief. Your heart fluttered rapidly in your chest.

About half an hour later, you had finished prepping the herbs and Sil was preparing for market. They pulled a coat over their shoulders and held out one for you. “You’re still feeling all right?” they asked as they slid the coat on for you. “The pain isn’t too bad?”

“It’s fine. Honestly, it’s itching more than anything.” The feeling of your ribs stitching themselves together manifested as a nearly constant pricking under your skin. Attempting to scratch only made the pain worse, so you had to grit your teeth and deal with it.

“That’s good,” Sil said. “It means it’s healing.”

You rolled your eyes as Sil opened the door and stepped outside. “You would say that. You’re not the one who has to experience it.”

Sil laughed and made a sympathetic clucking noise with their tongue. “I’ll see if I can’t make you something to soothe it when we get back home. But it is good that you’re healing. You’ll be able to go out on your own soon.”

A flicker of nervousness jumped through your stomach. “Mmhm,” you murmured. Sil didn’t seem to notice your hesitation. They strode down the dirt pathway that led to the proper town, the hand on your back gently steering you along.

Sil had taken you into town a couple of times before, though only for a brief time and always with the maximum amount of concern and fussing. This time, they were actually content to let you walk away from them, though you could feel their eyes on you like a hawk.

“Looks like the little human is up and about again!” You tried not to jump in surprise as a booming voice echoed out from a shop. A tall, muscular woman with a cow’s head stood in the doorway of her shop, arms folded over her chest. She was the town tailor, and stood at least six and a half feet tall. Her calling you little was less about your shortness and more about the fact that everyone was shorter than she was. You’d met her out of necessity, as she was the one who’d gotten you most of your clothes.

“Hi, Matilda,” you said. “Yeah. And thanks for all the clothes, by the way. They fit really well.”

“I’m glad you’re pleased with them. Not my best work. I’ll need to get some more measurements to get you some more fitted stuff.” She nodded at Sil. “As long as they allow it, of course.”

“Not yet. The ribs aren’t fully healed, and I know you don’t mean to, but sometimes you don’t know your own strength,” Sil said. “I’m sure we’ll be back to get some more clothes at another time.” Matilda shrugged and gave you a small wink.

“Come back anytime, dear.” She headed back into the shop. Sil rested a hand on your back and led you further into the town.

“We’re just going to get some supplies,” Sil said, glancing down at the list they were carrying. “I need more bandages. And some more food. Hm, and I suppose it’ll be good, now that you’re feeling better, to show you around town.” They tucked the list back into their pocket. “You are still feeling well, yes?”

“Sil, I’m fine.” They looked concerned, still, but they dropped the subject.

The town Sil was a part of was ridiculously quaint, at least by your standards. According to Sil, it was actually fairly advanced. You were at least glad the place had running water and indoor plumbing. Still, it was a closely knit community where, if you needed something, you were probably going to go to someone in town to get it. There was a potter, a blacksmith, a carpenter. Sil could practically name where every item in his house came from. It was sweet, really. It made every part of the community feel important.

On the other hand, it meant that there were very little openings in the town. Sil had made a casual mention that you might need to move to another city, and the thought of that sent a nervous flutter through your stomach. Be on your own? In a world you didn’t quite understand? But you couldn’t impose on Sil anymore than you already had. If they wanted you to move out, how could you say no?

“Sugar.” Sil’s gentle, lilting voice pushed into your consciousness. “Everything all right?”

“Fine. Just thinking.” Sil tilted their head, a crease of worry forming between their brows. “I’m really fine, Sil. I can just drift off sometimes. It doesn’t mean I’m in incredible amounts of pain.”

Sil pressed their lips together. “You aren’t, are you?”

You rolled your eyes. “No. I’m fine. Are you this fussy about everyone?”

“Are you kidding?” You glanced over your shoulder. An enormous naga was slithering toward you, her tail undulating as she approached. “I once broke three of my fingers and this one just tied them together and told me I should be fine to keep working if I really wanted to.”

“They weren’t broken. You sprained them!” Sil sputtered. “And I did not say that. I said you should be able to return to work soon. It wasn’t a bad sprain.”

The naga, Evelyn, rolled her eyes in your direction. “I once got a hand full of splinters and they snapped at me every time I flinched. No bedside manner at all.”

“Really?” That seemed hard to believe. Sil had been nothing but sweet to you since you arrived.

“You were whining! And splinters certainly are not the same thing as broken ribs.” Sil’s face had brightened to an impressive shade of red. “And just because I choose not to exercise it on you doesn’t mean I don’t have bedside manners.”

Evelyn rolled her dark, glittering eyes. “Sure, Sil.” She lounged closer to you, drooping the upper half of her body over your shoulder. “Watch their tail,” she said, lips close to your ear. “If the tip starts going mad when you touch them, make a move.” She shot Sil a grin and dropped off your shoulder. “If you want another storage case, stop by any time,” she said, waving a hand back at you as she slithered off. “I’ll be around.”

Sil’s cheeks were still brightly flushed and they spent a moment fussing with their robes before looking aback at you. “She ought to be more careful, throwing herself all over someone who was recently injured.” Their voice was full of indignation, almost as though her presence had genuinely agitated them.

“I told you already, Sil. I’m fine.”

“Oh, all right.” Their hands fluttered tentatively against your side for a moment. “Do you want to stop by the bakery? You didn’t have much for breakfast and you need to keep your strength up.”

“Sure,” you said. Then, just as an experiment, you reached out a hand and placed it on their shoulder. The edge of your hand rested at the hem of their shirt, so there was a flicker of skin-to-skin contact. Their tail shivered, the tip dancing back and forth in the dirt. The flush, which had been slowly fading from their face, returned in full force. “Thank you, Sil.”

They moved their mouth for a moment. “Oh. Uh. You are very welcome.” They squeezed your hand before gently removing it from their shoulder. “Come on.” Their hand lingered against yours for a moment before they released it.

The bakery was run by a pair of fauns. As far as you were aware, they were twins. Evidently, Sil had helped them both on a couple of occasions and now they could get free food almost whenever they wanted. By the time you left the store, your arms were laden with sweets.

The pair of you munched on them casually as you walked around town. There were a few faces that you didn’t recognize, but you knew most of them, and most of them could remember you. The town was so small that new faces were almost immediately recognized. All of them seemed to know Sil, and greeted them with familiarity and reverence.

Still, the longer you spent time in town, the more uncertain you grew about your place there. None of the skills the townspeople had were skills you could really help with, and when you thought through your own abilities, you weren’t sure you had anything to offer. Every person in the town seemed to fit a niche. You weren��t sure what niche you could fill.

“Sugar?” Sil nudged you. “Are you in pain?”

“What?” you said, starting out of your thoughts again. Sil hesitantly extended a hand and cupped your chin in their palm. Their thumb swept along the underside of your eye. Something wet came away with their fingertip.

“Your eyes are watering,” they said. “Is the pain that bad? You should have said something.”

“Oh.” There was pain, a dull ache in your side that radiated along your back. But it wasn’t bad enough to cry over. “No, no, it’s not that.”

You had intended to be reassuring, but Sil’s expression only grew more concerned. They stepped in closer to your side, allowing you to lean on them as you walked. “What’s the matter, then?”

You took a deep breath. Worry jumbled up in your chest and throat, jamming the words from coming. After a moment, you just shook your head. To their credit, Sil didn’t push. They just put an arm over your shoulders and helped you back to their house.

When you were seated back on the couch and Sil had finished putting the materials you’d acquired away, they settled in next to you. “Do you want to talk about what’s wrong?”

“It’s…” You fumbled the words once more. There was a lot you were feeling and you weren’t sure how to get it all out in a way that made sense. Sil waited for you, eyes solemn and patient. Finally, the words came out. “Do you want me to leave?” The question that emerged was more pathetic than you’d hoped for. There was a pleading edge to it. Please, I’m scared, don’t make me go!

Sil’s mouth popped open, then snapped shut. They seemed genuinely thrown. “I- No. Where is this coming from?”

You took a deep breath and attempted to sort your thoughts out. “You keep talking about me leaving. Maybe needing to go to the city. And there’s not really any place for me here, nothing necessary. But…” Your voice wavered embarrassingly. Damn. You didn’t want to cry in front of Sil again. They’d seen quite enough of that.

“But?” Sil pressed. Their voice was gentle. One of their hands rested on your knee.

“I don’t want to leave,” you said. “I know it’s selfish, and I really don’t want to impose, but I’d miss you and I’d miss this place. I- I feel like I’m actually starting to make a life here, and I don’t want to leave everything again, but I don’t want to stay here if I’m not wanted-”

Sil hugged you.

Their arms around you were gentle, exerting a reassuring amount of pressure. One of their hands splayed across your back, moving in slow, soothing circles. You hugged them back, pressing your face into their shoulder.

“Shh,” Sil murmured. “Shh. It’s all right.” They pulled back a little, letting their other hand come up to your face. Their thumb stroked along your cheekbone. “You’ve been worrying about this for a while, haven’t you?” Their voice was soft, utterly caring. A swell of tears formed in your eyes again. You blinked rapidly and nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to make you feel like you weren’t wanted here.”

The hand on your face moved back to stroke through your hair. Sil took in a deep, slow breath. “I think I may have overcorrected, slightly,” they said. “I know I’ve been bringing up you potentially going to the city a lot- I was trying to give you an out, you see, if you didn’t want to stay here. I didn’t want you to feel like you were trapped. I suppose I may have pushed it too hard.”

“Oh,” you said. Relief flooded through you. “Then you do want me to stay? Or, at least, you’re all right with it? I mean, I don’t want to push to stay if you don’t want me here. Is it weird having me in your house? I can start seeing if I can move out-”

“Shh, shh,” Sil said, lifting their voice over yours. “Oh, you really worry too much. No. I don’t want you to leave.” They licked their lips. “There may have been a bit of a selfish reason I’ve not been so keen on you staying. I kept suggesting the city because… Ah, I was trying to work up the courage to ask you something. I didn’t want to make it awkward for you, since you’re staying here. I thought, maybe if you had somewhere to go, it wouldn’t be so bad if you, ah. Turned me down.”

Your heart thundered in your chest. Heat rose to your face. “Something you wanted to ask?”

Sil nodded. “I’ve been thinking about it for a bit. I don’t want you to think- well, it’s not something I’m jumping into rashly. I’ve considered it. And if you refuse, I certainly won’t hold it against you. I just… I don’t want you to leave, either. Having you around here isn’t a burden. I enjoy it. Ever since I met you. And not just because you’re a human, and a starfaller. You’re… smart and thoughtful and considerate and determined, I-” Sil cut themselves off. “I’m getting ahead of myself. I should come out and say it.” Sil took a deep breath. “I’m attracted to you. Very attracted to you. I have been for a little while. I know that it might not be a good time, and I understand if you don’t want a relationship right now. If you want to leave or stay somewhere else, I understand. But… I want you here. I love every minute you’re here with me. I just thought you should know that.”

Sil fell silent. They fidgeted slightly, barely able to look you in the eyes. You felt slightly stunned. That explained a lot. Their fussiness over your wounds, their insistence that they enjoyed having you around. And, as they had confessed to you, you felt something. A relief, a gratitude. A sort of tremulous oh, thank God. They like me too.

“Sil,” you said in a quiet voice. “I want to kiss you right now.”

Their eyes widened. “I… I think I would like that.”

Your lips met tentatively, then with more passion. Sil pressed their mouth firmly against yours, leaning you back against the couch. Their hands fumbled to cling to your shirt. Behind them, their tail waved furiously, curling and twisting with delight.

One of Sil’s hands pressed against your side and you gave a strangled groan. Sil pulled back immediately. “Oh! I’m so sorry. Are you all right? Oh, dear, I didn’t mean to hurt you. Let me see.” They fussed at your side for a moment. “Perhaps we should wait a little longer before we try anything rougher, hm?” They gave you a sheepish grin.

“I suppose,” you said. You leaned up and gave Sil a peck on the cheek. One of your hands trailed casually down their front, prompting their pale skin to flush deep red. “I’ll be eagerly awaiting the day.”

[i-am-bitterly-jittery]

Three’s A Crowd, Four’s A Party

My Best Friend’s Brother pt 1, pt 2, Breakfast

This takes place mostly after Breakfast

Word Count: 3048

Rating: Teen

Pairings: pre-intrumoxceit, mostly anxceit with a healthy dose of pining!moxiety

Warnings: minor swearing, dark-ish jokes, Virgil being afraid of being murdered cuz anxiety, nothing major

~~~START~~~

Virgil Knight has had a crush on Janus Parcel for years — probably his whole life. He met Janus in pre-school and has been absolutely devoted to him ever since. 

From an outside perspective, it probably looked like Virgil was head over heels for Janus, and Janus was completely indifferent to him, but Virgil knows that’s not true. Janus likes keeping his cards close to his chest — he always has — but he’s completely devoted to Virgil, too. 

Janus is the one who told him about the rumors that were going around about him in seventh grade. Middle school meant new classmates, and new classmates meant people who’d never met Virgil before, people who didn’t watch him spend the last seven years following Janus around the playground like a lost puppy. They thought Virgil was a loner (he wasn’t a loner, Janus just had a different lunch than him), they thought he hated people (usually true), and they thought he couldn’t talk (it’s true that Virgil didn’t particularly like talking to people he didn’t know, but he’s not sure how everyone could possibly think he couldn’t talk). Virgil’s favorite rumor had been the one that he was a vampire; he once wore fangs to school just to freak people out. 

Virgil returned the favor by telling Janus the rumors that spread about him in ninth grade. 

During the summer between eighth and ninth grade, Janus fell face first into some sticker bushes while trying to pop a wheelie on his bike. The end result was a long, thin scar trailing down his face. When they started high school in the fall, a rumor spread like wildfire that Janus had been injured in a knife fight. 

The very thought that Janus would ever fight someone with a knife was ridiculous (“always bring a gun to a knife fight, Virge,” Jan liked to say, not that Jan had a gun, or liked to fight, but he did like winning), but Janus found the rumor hilarious, and never did anything to dissuade people from it. 

It was in high school that Virgil realized that he loved Janus romantically. It wasn’t that the feelings started in high school, that’s just when Virgil realized they were there. 

He didn’t do anything about them, Janus was always the leader; Virgil figured that if his feelings were reciprocated, Jan would let him know. 

There was one time in tenth grade that they almost kissed. They’d been watching a movie at Janus’ house, or rather, they’d been having a heated debate about philosophy (a subject Virgil only started arguments about because Janus was cute when he was passionate) while a movie played in the background, when they found their faces very close together — Virgil could swear that Janus had been looking at his lips — but Mrs. Parcel had walked in before anything happened. 

They never talked about it. 

Two months later, Virgil met Remus Kingsley at an art competition, and suddenly their twosome became a threesome. 

Virgil’s crush on Remus had been much easier to identify — especially since he’d been crushing hard on Remus’ identical twin brother Roman the year before. Until he learned that Roman was a pompous jerk that is. 

Remus wasn’t a jerk though, which is why his crush didn’t go away after a month like it had with Roman. Remus was sweet, and affectionate, and so very very excitable. He could be loud, and impulsive, and sometimes he stepped over the line, but he was very good at remembering where the line was once he’d crossed it once so that he wouldn't do it again. 

Remus had his own rumors floating around school. Well, ‘rumors’ wasn’t really the right word since most of them were true. Any rumor that wasn’t true was like a self-fulfilling prophecy, and Remus almost always followed through — he never killed anyone though, and that’s always a huge plus in Virgil’s book. 

It was easy for Virgil to fall in love with Remus, but it was even easier for him to see that Janus fell in love with him too. 

Eleven months after Remus joined their group, Virgil noticed a shift in Remus and Janus’ relationship — it was subtle, but it was there — and that’s all Virgil needed to know that his best friends were dating and hiding it from him. 

Two months into Janus and Remus hiding their relationship from him, Virgil was sitting on Janus’ couch, waiting for Remus to get there so they could start movie night. He barely paid attention when the doorbell started ringing (and didn’t stop until after Janus answered the door), or when Remus burst into the living room cheering about a ‘party’, but when a solid weight landed in his lap, he noticed. 

Virgil let out a startled hiss, thinking that Remus had launched himself into Virgil’s lap, but the blue eyes that blinked up at him owlishly from behind a pair of large, round glasses were decidedly not Remus’. 

The boy in his lap and Virgil stared at each other for a moment as Virgil’s brain tried to think of something to say, literally anything to say. ‘Looks like you’ve fallen for me’, ‘come here often?’ or even just ‘hi’. Anything. 

“S-sorry,” the boy stuttered, blushing. 

Virgil blushed too because this was Patton Morales, Virgil’s third persistent crush. Patton Morales was sitting in his lap. Virgil’s gay heart might just explode right now because Patton Morales is talking to him. 

“It’s, uh, it’s fine,” Virgil finally said, like a moron.

He’d never actually met Patton before, never even had classes with him, but Virgil knew who he was. 

Virgil’s admired Patton Morales from afar since freshman year when Patton yelled at a group of seniors for pushing around a couple of seventh graders that included Virgil’s younger sibling, Elliot. And since Patton wasn’t one of their friends, Virgil might have mentioned liking him once or twice to Remus and Jan, a mistake that probably led to Patton falling into his lap a few seconds ago. 

Fortunately, Virgil’s saved from having to think of anything else to say by Remus jumping on the couch and yelling “movie!”

Unfortunately, Remus began bouncing up and down, and as a result, Virgil instinctively wrapped his arms around Patton Morales’ waist to keep him from flying off. 

So now he was sitting on the couch. With Patton Morales in his lap. With his arms around Patton Morales’ waist!

Honestly the rest of the evening was a bit of a blur because the only thing Virgil could focus on was how warm Patton was. Every time Patton shifted, Virgil had to fight the urge to tighten his arms around his waist — if Patton wanted to move, Virgil would let him — he never even attempted to get up though, and Virgil hoped he couldn’t feel his heart racing. 

At some point, Remus got up from the couch, stripped most of his clothes off, and lay on the ground. At the same time, Janus also got up and turned the light off before settling himself onto the recliner, leaving just Virgil and the now-sleeping Patton on the couch. 

“What am I supposed to do?” Virgil hissed, praying that Patton didn’t wake up. 

“Sleep on the couch,” Janus deadpanned, clearly conveying how ridiculous he found the question. 

“What do I do with Patton?” Virgil rephrased. The blond stirred against his chest and Virgil held his breath in fear that he’d disturbed the sleeping boy, but Patton just sighed and burrowed deeper into his chest, completely out. 

“Wake him up if he’s bothering you,” Janus answered knowing full well that Virgil would rather die than inconvenience someone. 

“Sell him on the black market!” Remus piped up. 

“Maybe we should try selling you on the black market,” Janus suggested. “Might go for a few bucks.”

“Aww, Janny, you love me too much to sell me!” Remus grinned. 

“You’re a stepping stone on my path to world domination,” Janus replied breezily. 

Normally, Virgil would enjoy the playful banter and might add something to this conversation, but right now he’s too focused on getting into a reclined position on the couch without waking Patton. Once he was in the recliner position though, his legs stuck off the couch awkwardly and he had to shimmy up the couch until his head was against one armrest and his feet were against the other. 

Luckily, Patton continued to slumber. Virgil let out a small sigh of relief, he could hear Janus laughing at him from the recliner, but he refused to acknowledge him. 

 There was a clock on the wall somewhere in Janus’ house. Usually the sound of it ticking out the seconds was drowned out by the TV, or Remus, or something. But right now, at dark o’clock in the morning, with the other three people in the house fast asleep, and the menu screen for the last movie they watched was illuminating the living room, there was nothing for Virgil to do but listen to the steady ticking. The steady ticking, and the soft breathing of the boy sleeping on top of him. 

For hours, Virgil’s brain had been consumed with thoughts of Patton. What will he do when he wakes up? Does he like Virgil back? Is he going to be creeped out that he essentially slept on a stranger? Does he like Virgil back?

All important questions, and all too loud for Virgil to fall asleep. 

Light was starting to peek in through the window to Janus’ living room by the time Virgil finally managed to fall asleep. 

 He awoke hours later when someone sat down on his stomach. 

“Up and at ‘em, sleeping beauty!”

Virgil opened his eyes to glare at Janus. There’s significantly more light now, and Virgil can’t see anyone in the living room other than himself and Janus. 

“I hate you,” Virgil groaned, pushing Jan off him. 

Janus moves easily enough, allowing himself to be pushed off the couch. 

“Remus left to take Patton home,” Janus told him, moving over to sit on the recliner. 

“Hmm,” Virgil sat up to stretch, his back popping satisfyingly. “What time is it?”

“Almost two. How long did you lie away thinking about Patton?” Janus asked, resting his head on his fist and smirking. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” but his blush betrayed him if Janus’ growing smirk was anything to go off. 

“Of course not. Patton made pancakes for you, they’re in the freezer but he left specific instructions on how to reheat them.”

“Wow, actual breakfast food? How glamorous.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Janus warned. 

The pancakes were pretty good heated up, and definitely beat the dry cereal/leftover pizza they usually ate for breakfast when Janus’ parents were out of town. 

“You can stay, you know,” Janus said after pancakes, as Virgil was gearing up to go home. 

“Nah, I haven’t been home for like two days, I should make sure it’s still standing and stuff.” Honestly Virgil would love to stay at Janus’, but he’s gotta make sure Elliot is ok. 

He walked home from Janus’, it took him over half an hour, but it let him delay the inevitable a little longer. 

 Virgil lay awake that night long after even Elliot had fallen asleep, quietly snoring in the bed across the room. Virgil himself was still suffering from having laid awake the entire night before, so he just lay in bed, scrolling through Tumblr on his phone, while blasting Fall Out Boy through his headphones. 

At around two a.m., a pillow flew across the room and hit his legs, effectively gaining Virgil’s attention. He pulled the headphones off one ear and turned to his sibling quizzically. 

Elliot continued to lay on their side, looking asleep except that they stuck one arm out to point at the window. 

“Window,” they muttered, grabbing their own headphones as best they could while refusing to open their eyes. 

A second later a tapping came from said window, and Virgil turned to find Janus balancing on the tree branch outside. He glanced back to Elliot, but they were steadfastly refusing to move. 

Virgil crossed the room to open the window and let Janus in. 

“What are you doing here?” He hissed, listening for any indication that his parents had been awoken. 

“I wanted to try something,” Janus said quietly, refusing to meet Virgil’s eyes as he slowly peeled off his gloves. 

“What?”

This time Janus did meet his eyes, he had clearly steeled himself up for whatever he wanted to try. 

“If I make you uncomfortable,” he whispered. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

Virgil was about to ask what he was talking about, but Janus brought both his naked hands up to cup Virgil’s face, and his entire being just froze. Had Janus been standing this close the entire time? Janus was leaning even closer- shit shit shit. 

Their lips connected and the only thing Virgil’s goddamn cursed mind could come up with was ‘kiss kiss fall in love’. 

Janus started pulling back after a couple of seconds of Virgil just standing there, frozen, which finally spurred Virgil into action. He placed his hands on Janus’ hips, returning the kiss to the best of his ability. He could feel Janus smirking against his lips, but he didn’t care as long as they were still kissing. 

A pillow hit the back of Virgil’s head. 

He turned to find Elliot still curled in their bed like they hadn't moved at all, but now they had no more pillows

Janus chuckled quietly. “Can we go somewhere to talk?”

“Yeah, you go ahead, I’ll be down in a second.”

Janus nodded and headed back out the window. 

Virgil grabbed his backpack and his headphones before heading for the window. 

“You’re leaving?” Elliot asked, no longer ignoring him. 

“Yeah, cover for me?” Elliot shrugged, but Virgil knew that was a yes. 

Janus was waiting for him on the ground, and once Virgil got down, they both silently headed off towards the park located a few blocks away from Virgil’s house. 

“So,” Virgil broke the silence once he was sure they were far enough away. “That was…”

“Late?” Janus offered with a rueful smile. 

“I was gonna say ‘nice’, but yeah.”

“Well I wouldn’t be opposed to doing it again.” Janus slipped his hand into Virgil’s and gave it a squeeze. 

“I thought we were supposed to be talking?” Virgil teased as they finally reached the park. 

“We can do both,” Janus suggested, his blush visible even in the sparsely lit park and Virgil snorted. As much as Janus liked to pretend that he was suave and mysterious, he was just a dork. 

“We’re outside,” Virgil pointed out. 

“So?”

“Lots of serial killers target young couples out late at night.”

“Oh my god! That’s what you’re thinking about right now?” Janus demanded. “Our chances of being murdered?”

“I’m always thinking about my chances of being murdered,” Virgil answered earnestly. 

“Oh my god,” Janus repeated as he pushed Virgil into a tree, pinning him there. “You’re the worst.”

“I know.” Virgil smiled innocently up at Janus, wrapping his arms around his neck. Janus continued to glare at him, so Virgil added a slight pout. 

“You’re too cute for your own good,” complained Janus as he leaned forward. 

This time when Janus kissed him, Virgil was ready to respond in kind. He’d been thinking of doing this for so long that he could hardly get enough. 

A branch snapped a few feet away, causing Virgil to jump back from Janus. Unfortunately, he was still pressed up against a tree so all he really did was hit his head on the bark. 

“Shit!” 

“Are you alright?” Janus asked, managing to hold back his laughter, but unable to keep the smirk off his face. 

“We’re going to be murdered,” Virgil informed him, ducking away from the tree and heading off in the direction of the noise. 

“We’re not going to be murdered, it was probably a squirrel or something.”

“That’s what murderers want you to think!”

By the time Virgil was responsibly certain that there was no one else in the park — let alone anyone that would kill them — Janus had taken a seat on one of the swings. 

“We’re doing all the stereotypes,” Virgil commented as he sat on the swing next to Jan. “Teenagers, having a deep conversation in the park at night, on the swing set.”

“Hmm.” Janus kicked his foot against the ground, moving his swing slightly. “I like you.”

“Yeah I kinda figured that out.”

“Hush, I’m trying to talk. I like you. You like me. Both of us like Remus. Remus likes both of us.”

“You’re sure?” Virgil whispered. As far as Virgil could tell, Remus never acted like he had a crush on Virgil, and he’d hate to be operating on an incorrect assumption moving forward, it would be too awkward. 

“Yes, Remus and I already had this conversation. We both decided that I should tell you alone so as to not overwhelm you.”

“What- uh, what now?” Virgil stuttered. He was blushing so hard that Janus could probably feel the heat radiating off of him. He’d liked Janus for years, and then he’d liked Remus for almost as long as he’d known him, and they both liked him back? He could barely wrap his head around it. 

“My original plan was for the three of us to get together,” Janus said slowly. “But I’ve realized there’s one more thing I forgot to factor in.”

That was so vague. Too vague, it gave Virgil way too much room to overthink. Luckily, Janus seemed to know that, and continued speaking unprompted. 

“And I think that instead of a threesome, we should become a foursome.”

“A foursome?”

“You and Remus are both clearly smitten with Patton Morales,” Janus explained. “And I can, erm, see his appeal.”

It was Janus’ turn to blush, and Virgil could help but wonder what had happened yesterday to cause that reaction. 

“So you want the three of us… and Patton?” Janus nodded. “But how are we- he’s afraid of us! He’s like- he’s like a fluffy little puppy, and we’re like a pack of feral cats!”

“Puppies notoriously love everyone,” Janus shot back. “Besides, I have a plan.”

~~~END~~~

Up next will be Janus’ absolutely 100% foolproof plan to get Patton to fall in love with them (it’ll be 5 parts, one for every step in the plan)

Taglist:

@royalty-of-all-things-snuggly @pixelated-pineapple @the-sunshine-dims @taylorxoxo22 @oatmealoatmealoatmealoatmealoatm @007ardra @fandomfan315 @sophiexteresa @smolemopotato @contemplativespectrum @theyluna-womoon @queer-chair @your-gay-enby-highness @sanderssides-angst @idont-freaking-know @marshymoop @imlovethomassanders @sourshadowling @frogsandcookies @aricana8 @cute-and-angsty-princess @icantthinkofacreativeurl @captain-oats

[yandere-daydreams]

A Yandere!Lucifer/Reader commission for the very lovely, very creative @pyrokittyowo​, with just a couple hints of Yandere!Diavolo. I really do love writing for him, if only because he’s got all the time and resources in the world to make everyone’s life a living *hell*, and nothing better to do than put his heart into it. What else could you ask for in a man?

Word Count: 3.1k

TW: (Minor) Physical Violence, Manipulation, Abusive Relationships, and Dehumanization.

Diavolo couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy feeling superior.

It was an odd sensation. He was a demon, for all intents and purposes, but it was hard to feel like one, regardless of how often he tried to do so. It was the disorientation that came from being the strongest of your kind but still living so far below the next step, more powerful than those that surrounded you but unable to reach another level, one where he’d certainly be eclipsed by monsters who didn’t carry the same regard demons did for other living, breathing creatures. Diavolo didn’t think of himself as above the average creature, but the idea would arise in his subconscious from time to time, nagging and irritating and refusing to drown until it was acknowledged, even if dismissal always followed his admission. He was strong, and he was powerful and he was capable, but he never let it affect his ego, not when doing so would only push him further away from his subjects, as it had with his father and every ruler before him. Still, he knew the limits of his control, and he was keenly aware of all the many beasts and brutes went about their never-ending lives within those limits.

With this in mind, Diavolo’s annoyance upon seeing one of his most obedient pets start to walk along the edge of that boundary was understandable.

Diavolo had always prided himself on not having to keep Lucifer on a tight leash. The man was loyal to a fault, the reason behind his dedication long-since having become more of an excuse than a binding contract. Lucifer didn’t have to be given orders, anymore, there wasn’t a need for threats of discipline or the poorly veiled warnings that’d dominated the early stages of their relationship, not when he seemed to think of paperwork and politics as a hobby to be enjoyed rather than a responsibility to be dreaded. He was useful, hell, he was one of the few people Diavolo might call an equal, but this wasn’t the time to get sentimental. Not when Lucifer’s attention seemed to wander more and more with each passing day.

Even now, he seemed distracted, his eyes only ever occasionally meeting Diavolo’s. Instead, they darted around the ballroom anxiously, first to the flute of champagne in his hand, then to the tiled floor then a nearby staircase then anything, as long as he didn’t have to linger on it for more than a moment. It wasn’t uncommon for people to be uncomfortable during Diavolo’s parties, his guests and all their many fangs and talons caused more than enough unease for the average visitor, but it was unheard of for Lucifer to fall into a similar discontent. His feathers were beginning to ruffle unconsciously, his secondary wings already curling towards his chest, and his posture was no better, too rigid to mean anything good. If it’d been anyone else, Diavolo might’ve shrugged it off and suffered through a one-sided conversation, but it was Lucifer, his confidante, his willing servant, his friend. If something was bothering him, Diavolo was sure he wanted to know.

So, he glanced in the general direction of Lucifer’s temporary focus, clicked his tongue, and frowned knowingly. “You’d tell me if Mammon got his hands on the key to my vault again, wouldn’t you?” He asked, flatly, aiming to keep his tone as serious as possible. “I’d hate to have to find another of my treasures ‘relocated’ to the House of Lamentation, especially after the fuss it caused.”

Lucifer jumped to alertness, shoulders squaring defensively and his gaze sharpening to a glare as he stuttered out something incomprehensible, stopping to compose himself before giving a coherent response. “We had a talk about that, last time,” Lucifer assured, his fingers flexing around his glass’ neck. “He won’t try anything, this time, I’ve made sure of it. As long as he values having the same number of limbs he had this morning, I mean.”

“And I’m sure your methods were effective, as always.” Diavolo gave Lucifer a minute to flush and fluster, but he pulled his companion out of his stupor with a hearty laugh, Diavolo nudging him gently with his elbow as Lucifer took to sulking. “But something is bothering you,” He confirmed, only pausing for a brief moment to allow Lucifer the courtesy of a nod. “Might as well tell me, Luci’. You know I’m not going to let it go until you do.”

Lucifer let out a long, labored sigh, but didn’t struggle before giving in. Silently, his concentration shifted, turning towards the ballroom’s center, where assorted couples were dancing and talking and doing whatever couples chose to do when music and drinks were in abundance. It took him a second or two to settle, his eyes eventually landing on you, already in the arms of one of Lucifer’s brothers, completely unaware of the agony you were causing him.

Diavolo couldn’t say he saw Lucifer’s reasoning. If he was a pet, you were a bug, something insignificant and defenseless in the grand scheme of things. With all the trouble you got yourself into, you should’ve been caught under someone’s heel and crushed months ago, but Diavolo was never one to refuse entertainment. And yet, if he was to trust the fury suddenly smeared across Lucifer’s expression, he would’ve thought you were the most unignorable pest across the three realms. “The exchange student?” He asked, absentmindedly. “You’re not going to tell me you let a human drive you into such a state, are you?”

“It’s an… unfortunate affliction.” As Lucifer’s eyes followed you, he only seemed to grow more agitated. He twitched when you smiled, flinched when you laughed, and when you pulled away from your partner, curtsying with an unsteady grace, Lucifer’s hold on his glass grew tighter, tighter, tighter, the flute eventually cracking and splintering, shards digging into Lucifer’s gloved hand and the translucent fluid beginning to leak out. If he noticed, though, he didn’t intend to show it, only gritting his teeth and giving an explanation. “It’s… It’s annoying, when she insists on lowering herself to their standards. I love my brothers, I do, but…” He trailed off, shaking his head and scoffing, as if he was still trying to dismiss whatever thoughts were plaguing his mind. “Am I supposed to watch this? It’s disgusting, it’s infuriating, it makes me want to do something unpleasant, My Lord.”

Although Diavolo doubted the sincerity of Lucifer’s declaration, he recognized that tone, that foolish, irrational anger. The awareness of power and the willingness to put it on display, the desire to use it on something smaller and weaker than himself. Diavolo felt his grin broaden, a solution to more than one of his problems arising. He could only chuckle, resting his hand on Lucifer’s shoulder as his open wounds began to drip and bleed.

“I know exactly how you feel, my friend.”

~

“He’s been acting strange, lately. I was just wondering if you’d noticed.”

You were no more impressive in person. When Diavolo approached you, your reactions had been so pitifully predictable, your demeanor vulnerable and unsuspecting, prey in every sense of the word. You’d been assigned to clean your homeroom after hours, a fortunate coincidence on Diavolo’s part, and he’d sent Lucifer off on some trivial, time-consuming task he wouldn’t be done with any time soon. When he finally addressed his concerns, you were all wide-eyes and parted lips, curling around the broom in your hands whenever he mentioned your companion’s name. But, if you considered Diavolo a threat, you were smart enough not to say it. A wise decision, really. He wanted this to go as smoothly as you did.

“No stranger than usual,” You said, tossing the wooden handle from hand to hand. You didn’t try to hide your anxiety. “I’m probably not the best person to ask. He’s never been normal, to me.”

Diavolo knew what you were talking about. He’d bandaged Lucifer’s hand the night before while being thoroughly educated on just how not normal the relationship between you and Lucifer happened to be. He simply pursed his lips, letting his gaze bore into you as he replied. “What do you mean? You’d tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you, (Y/n)?”

You let out a heavy sigh, your shoulders dropping in some personal show of complacency. “I know how close you two are, but he scares me,” You admitted, your reluctance only momentary. “He loses control of himself, sometimes, I get it, but it’s not just when he’s in a rage. Ever since we made our pact, he’s been touching me more often, and saying these... these things. I can’t really explain it, but whenever he looks at me-” You stopped without warning, cutting yourself off. As if the only words you were capable of using were those you’d already convinced yourself not to speak aloud. “He’s controlling. I don’t know how else to describe it. It’s like he gets off on backing me into a corner and making me beg to be left alone.”

You looked towards him when you finished, searching for any traces of sympathy you could get, and Diavolo did his best to indulge you. He was still trying to figure out how he felt about your… dynamic, with Lucifer. He understood the temptation. Even now, alone and standing in front of a man you didn’t trust, you made no effort to protect yourself, exposed to any demonic being that wandered in and helpless, despite how adamantly you insisted you weren’t. With someone as stifling as Lucifer, such negligence must’ve been intolerable. But, he wasn’t Lucifer, and for now, you were more of a distraction than a pastime. Something that needed to be dealt with promptly and played with later on.

“I can take care of that. He goes through a rebellious phase, every now and then, but it’s nothing he can’t be snapped out of.” He smiled, delicately, putting on a grin not unlike the one he’d used with your counterpart.

“But, it’ll be much easier for both of us if you lend me a hand.”

~

Diavolo was the only one speaking.

The conversation was tense, at first, but existent. In the cramped walls of his office, both you and Lucifer had done your best to give suitable (albeit bland) responses whenever they were called for, more Lucifer than yourself. Your voice had been smothered by Lucifer’s gaze, intense and burning into you until you were rendered quiet, and his own words becoming less and less as more of his focus was dedicated to drumming his fingers against the arm of his chair and biting at his bottom lip and growing more impatient. You’d lied to him, to get here, promised that you were going back to the House of Lamentation and insisted that you’d never think of trying to run around behind his back, which was, evidently, untrue. You weren’t sure which he found more maddening, the violation of his control or your willingness to break out of it. You weren’t sure which he’d you punish you for more violently.

It didn’t matter, honestly.

You’d have scars for both, tomorrow morning.

So consumed by your own demise, you didn’t notice when Diavolo’s voice went quiet, too, leaving the room in a tense, frigid silence, as purposeful as it was terrible. It couldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds, but it might as well’ve been years with the anxiety suddenly racking over your nerves. Luckily, Diavolo didn’t let it go on for very long, breaking the stillness with a crisp, defined knock to his desk, a familiar grin stretching across his lips. You rose, right on cue, suddenly more uncomfortable in your own skin than you’d ever been before. It didn’t feel any better to take your place on his side, separated from Lucifer by a mahogany desk and a small mountain of paperwork, but you were glad to be standing. It was part of a plan, and plans meant security. They meant you knew what was going to happen next.

You couldn’t bring yourself to be surprised when that security was ripped away, as fast and as carelessly as any time before.

Diavolo was supposed to confront Lucifer about his treatment of a valued exchange student. He was supposed to be professional, and strict, and move you into an empty dorm in Purgatory Hall, just to show that he could distance you from Lucifer, if he deemed it necessary. Lucifer was supposed to pout and argue and agree, and that was supposed to be it, that’s all that was supposed to happen. Still, your shock was muted as a strong arm looped around your waist, pulling you effortlessly into Diavolo’s lap, holding you there when the reflex to push yourself away and struggle took over. You threw your elbow into his chest, taking hold of his bicep and attempting to drag yourself away, but your efforts were made in vain, Diavolo only laughing and bringing his free hand up, letting it come to rest on your shoulder. A nail, a talon, really, sharp and pointed and blood-thirsty, tapped twice against your jugular, and you froze, not wanting to find out how easy it would be for him to drive them through your flesh.

Lucifer’s reaction was instantaneous. His mouth opened, something hushed and vile slipping out, and he clambered out of his chair with a shameless desperation, but haulted as soon as he was on his feet. A mix of instinct and common sense fueled him, his anger, his self-restraint. The overwhelming desire to stop someone else from putting their hands on something he so obviously considered his, but the prevailing knowledge that trying to take you back by force would only lead to hands too broken to do so. You couldn’t imagine how many times he’d been through this, with Diavolo. He certainly seemed experienced, when it came to holding himself back.

“Why?” He spat, the question blunt, but dripping with something venomous. He took a step forward, slowly, moving to edge around the obscuring desk. Diavolo didn’t stop him, his grin only turning towards a smirk as he watched Lucifer make his cautious approach. “I’m not going to let your hurt--”

“I won’t have to hurt her.” Your breath hitched in your lungs as the hand on your shoulder slipped downwards, trailing over the shape of your collarbone before trailing its way to your neck, rubbing an apologetic circle into the edge of your jaw before taking your throat in a vice-grip, not choking but ready to. You were suddenly made aware of just how small you were, compared to both men, Diavolo’s palm pressing against the length of your throat and his fingers struggling to fit without forcing your head back. You didn’t doubt a thoughtless movement or jerk too sudden would be enough to crush anything vital. “I don’t want to hurt her, but you’re not giving me a choice.” He paused, pouting, tilting his head to the side and drawing attention to just how badly you’d started to shake. “It’d be a shame if I had to do something drastic to some poor human because of your actions.”

Lucifer locked his jaw into place, his fists clenching at his sides. “I haven’t taken action, yet. If I’ve done something to offend you, I apologize, but my feelings for (Y/n) aren’t…” He bit his own tongue, running a hand through his hair, searching for a distraction that refused to make itself apparent. “She doesn’t have anything to do with us. You understand that, don’t you? (Y/n)  doesn’t have anything to do with any of this.”

“I’d like to believe you.” He let out a ragged exhale, as if the thought had been weighing on him. He wasn’t the one with claws pressed against his skin, though, a thin, red line slowly forming along the side of your neck as Diavolo dragged his thumb lazily over your skin, leaving a muted, stinging pain in its wake. “I worry about you, sometimes, Lucifer. You’re so helpful, and I’d hate to lose you to some uncontrolled obsession. But, I fear you’d come to resent me if I deprived you of your vices completely.” Another squeeze, this one testing, teasing. As if you and him were in on a joke, some parody of a bastardized friendly scheme. “That’s why (Y/n) is going to fall under my protection, from now on. When I’m confident in your loyalty, you can carry on with your little courting ritual. I’ll even give you two a room in my estate, somewhere more private. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Privacy?”

Lucifer only glowered. “And if I don’t agree?”

At this, Diavolo chuckled. He chuckled, then he laughed, then he took you by the throat, lifting you off his lap and letting you sputter and cough and suffocate as he held you in place, ignoring your attempts to loosen his grip. Lucifer moved to lunge forward, to tear you away and take solace in whatever survived, but Diavolo just shook his head, something in your neck cracking as he clenched down. “I don’t take kindly to defiance. You should know that better than anyone, and you should know how little I care for being challenged. Either you get down on your knees and bow, or-” He dropped you, abruptly, but your freedom was short-lived. As soon as you’d gotten a decent breath in, fingers were entangled in your hair, jerking you upward and forcing a meek, pathetic whimper through your lips. You couldn’t tell whether Lucifer was concerned for your wellbeing, or jealous that he hadn’t been the one to elicit such a pitiful sound. “Or, I break your favorite toy and no one gets to play. It’d be a shame to give something so disobedient an easy way out, but it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make, if it means you step into line.”

He released you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look, to move, to do anything but catch your breath and hide, your face soon buried in his coat. You heard rustling, the thud of something solid hitting the wooden floor, but those noises were distant, drowned out by something dark and dominant, as overpowering as it was oppressing.

You wondered if you’d ever be able to hear something other than Diavolo’s laughter again.

[hateswifi]

Twice Fated: Chapter Two

Okay! Here Part two of the salt, @salty-fang should post the sugar soon

Twice Fated: Master List

The Master: Master List

---------------------------------

Due to Marinette’s nauseous feelings and the encouragement from Sabine, Marinette decided to go to the doctor after her fitting appointment for a new client. She wasn’t too worried about the doctor would find but she would go anyways because it will make her mom better. She sighs, the client gives her a weird but she shrugs and continues measuring.

Before she knew it, she was shaking hands goodbye to her newest client. She then quickly stops home to grab lunch before heading to her appointment that her mother was nice enough to make for her. She finishes her lunch and calls the cab and just watches the city move past her while listening to her music. Not too long after the car ride had started it had come to the end with the sight of the hospital.

She takes out her headphones to talk to the receptionist lady. “Hello, my name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I have an appointment?”

“Ah, yea Ms. Dupain-Cheng, fill this out and give it to the doctor when you see them in a minute,” she responds with a smile.

“Thank you,” Marinette says, putting her headphones back in and she sits quietly as she fills out her form. As she was signing the form, the door opened and called her name. She greets the doctor with a smile before following her to one of the examination rooms. After the standard examination and questions, a nurse came in and he drew some of her blood for testing.

She had to wait in the examination room, listening to the music, for the results from her blood work. It’s about half an hour later when the doctor walks in smiling at her clipboard. “I have excellent news for you!”

“So there’s nothing wrong with me, I’m going to assume,” Marinette giggles, taking out her headphones. She puts her phone in her purse before smiling up at the doctor.

“Congratulations, you’re two month along in your pregnancy. You’re very fortunate that you started feeling the effects of morning sickness later than the average woman”

“I’m what? That can be true, I- we use con- we use protection,” Marinette says, running a hand through hair. “It’s not like I haven’t thought about it, it’s just we haven't talked about it. Thank you, I must be going.” She says, abruptly, standing up and quickly leaving the room. “We’re going to have a baby,” she whispers under her breath, she touches her stomach, a stray tear slipping down her face. She has a life growing inside of her, a beautiful one that her and Adrien made, together. She smiles as she hails a taxi, she will tell everyone, including Adrien, at their family dinner.

She decides to go home and start sketching in her sketchbook, now with a new sense of motivation. She gets out of the cab. She sets an alarm to let her know when to get ready for the dinner and starts sketching. Her pages slowly fill with baby clothes among other baby-oriented things. What felt like minutes later, her alarm was going off, she sighs and gets up to take a shower and to get dressed.

She was ready to leave and the only thing stopping her from leaving was because Adrien wasn’t home yet. So for the second time that hour, she called him only to be sent to voicemail once again. She sighs and leaves a message saying that if it wasn’t home in ten minutes, she was leaving without him. She had hope that he would show up because her family loves him.

It was fifteen minutes later when she was fed up with Adrien and went to her parents’ house. She knocked on the door with a meek smile. “Hey mama, papa, nonna,” She says, hugging each as she greets them.

“Hi, sweetie, it’s good to see you,” Sabine says, kissing her head. “Where is Adrien?”

“Umm… he had something come up,” Marinette shrugs, putting her purse down.

“Do you want to wait to eat?” Tom asks.

“No, don’t worry about,” Marinette says, a sad-ish looking smile spreading across her face.

“Little Fairy, I heard you went to the doctor today,” Nonna says, pulling out her seat.

“Oh yeah,” Marinette says, rubbing her neck.

“So what’d you figure out?” Sabine says, serving some food.

“You’re going to be a grandma, mama,” Marinette smiles. “I was going to tell everyone tonight, but Adrien isn’t here so I decided to tell you all first.”

“I’m going to be a grandma!” Sabine says excitedly, standing up.

“I’m going to be a great grandmother!” Nonna says, hugging Sabine.

“I’m so happy for you, honey,” Tom says, hugging her gently.

Dinner and dessert flew by with happy chatter. She was so happy, forgetting about the embarrassment of being stood up by her boyfriend. It was later than she thought when she entered the apartment. There stood Adrien. He was just standing there, clearly drunk.

“Adrien, you have some nerve not answering your phone,” Marinette exclaims, putting her purse down.

“Damn, Princesss you’re sexy! I thought you were gonna keep me waiting by myself,” Adrien purrs, approaching her with a sway. “We gotta we gotta go quick, my um, my girlfriend has a stupid dinner.” He says, attempting to pull her in for a kiss.

“I’m your girlfriend,” Marinette says, pushing him back.

“No you’re not Lila at least not yet, you you know Marinette is, she she is my girlfriend,” Adrien chuckles, unbuttoning his shirt. Marinette lets a tear slip down her face, knowing she can’t reason with a drunk man she takes a deep breath.

“Go lie down.”

“But princessss I want to have some fun! Marinette is no fun” Adrien pouts while he once again tries to kiss her.

“We can once you sleep,” Marinette lies, leading him to the couch. She cries as she looks for apartments. She writes an email to the building manager saying that she’s willing to buy out the lease. She sets up her plan before crying herself to sleep.

The next morning Marinette wakes up early, before Adrien, and tilts the couch, making him plummet to the floor. “What the hell!” Adrien shrieks as he stumbles to stand up.

“We are done.”

“What! Is this because I missed dinner?” Adrien demands.

“No, it’s because I’m ‘no fun’,” Marinette says, using air quotes.

“You’re fun! I love you, my lady!”

“Don’t lie to me! You were drunk again last night and you stood me up! I came home and you thought I was Lila!”

“Please, I didn’t mean to forget your dinner,” Adrien pleads, ignoring the Lila comment.

“It’s clear you are cheating on me! Why would you mistake me for another girl and ask to ‘have some fun’?” Marinette asks, putting her hands on her hips.

“Honestly fuck this, I don’t have to deal with this. You’re not even worth the trouble,” Adrien says.

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?!” Marinette screams.

“It means! You look like her, you act like her, but you’re not her! And all this shit is not worth a knock off!”

“And who is she that she’s so important that I have to be second best! Because I’ve been nothing but good to you!”

“Ladybug! Who else do you think I’m talking about! I’ve always loved Ladybug, I tried to make you more like her calling you, my lady, and our ‘Everyday Ladybug’. I’ve worked my ass off but it’s just not worth it!” He got slapped for that.

“GET OUT! I don't ever want to see you again!” Marinette cries as Adrien shoves passed her. She falls to her knees and cries. She spent the day, after Adrien left, collecting her things along with Adrien’s to sell at a later time.

At the end of the day, the apartment was bare and she ended the lease. She put everything in a storage unit further notice when everything of Adrien’s has been sold. At the end of the day, she shows up her parents’ house with a packed bag.

“Honey? What’s the matter?” Sabine asks, taking in Marinette’s disheveled look along with red puffy eyes.

“I- I broke up with Adrien,” Marinette hiccups.

“What why?” Tom asks, coming to the door, his eyes are filled with worry.

“He… he was cheating on me,” Marinette says, wiping her eyes. They wordlessly took her into their embrace. She lets herself cry in the safety of her parents’ arms.

It was a month later, she’s now around three months along when she had finished selling everything that Adrien had owned. She took some of the money for herself and her coming baby before donating the rest to a charity. She had gotten an angry call from Adrien the night she had left. He had shouted curses at her about taking everything and how he couldn’t get into the apartment because their lease was canceled. She had told him to screw off and blocked him.

“Little Fairy,” Nonna said, bursting into Marinette’s childhood room, where she had been residing as of recent. “It’s not healthy to stay here, you’re coming with me and we’re going to travel.”

“I can’t yet, I have to finish Jagged’s clothes,” Marinette says, turning away from her desk. “I don’t have much less, we can make a stop to drop off the clothes. He’s in London at the moment.”

“Of course, dear,” Nonna says, kissing Marinette’s head. Marinette sighs and continues to sew. She knew that her grandma is right and getting out of Paris to clear her mind so she can be in her right mind for when her baby is born.

It was three days later when she finished her work for Jagged, she packed her stuff in her grandma’s car and they headed off after saying goodbye to her parents. It didn’t take long to get to London.

“Hey Jagged,” Marinette says, greeting her pseudo uncle in a hug. “I got your clothes and some exciting news!”

“That’s rockin’ Mari!”

“So here you go, here are all the outfits you asked for,” Marinette says, handing him the bags where his clothes were safely stored.

“Now the news?”

“I’m pregnant!” Marinette says with a smile plastered across her face.

“That rockin’! I’m going to be a great uncle!” Jagged exclaims, pulling her in for a hug. “I’ll you and Adrien all that I can!” he says, putting her down with a big smile.

“Well, it’s just me, Adrien was cheating on me so I broke up with him because he found out,” Marinette responds quickly. “But that’s not important, go try on your clothes.” She says, hoping to end the conversation by ushering him off.

He had come back a bit later, wearing an outfit. “If I ever see Agreste again, I’m going to let Fang get ahold of him,” Jagged says, turning to show off the outfit.

“Is it comfortable?” Marinette asks, looking up from her spot on the floor where she was playing with Fang.

“It great little rocker! I love it,” Jagged says, crouching down in front of her and Fang. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I would’ve preferred to found out know instead after the baby was born,” Marinette says, letting a breath out.

“It’s good you got out of Paris,” Jagged says, leaning over Fang to give her a sincere, serious hug.

“So on a different topic, where’s your next stop?” Marinette says, standing up.

“Some city on America’s east coast,” Jagged shrugs. (yes, ik he’s oc but like i don’t wanna keep saying rockin cuz then it’s overused). “Want to tag along, we can keep an eye out for of favorite awesome niece while finishing the tour, your Nonna would even be able to come along.”

“I’ll ask her about it,” Marinette says, hugging Jagged. “I’ll let you know when I know.” She hangs around with Penny, Jagged, and Fang for a bit, her and Jagged played UM3 together because she was a touch homesick, or it was morning sickness she couldn’t tell them apart yet, either way, she got to play video games.

She met up with grandma at their hotel room a little after lunch, her nonna was on the phone when she quietly entered the room. She waves and goes to freshen up in the bathroom. She comes out a bit later to see her Nonna off the phone with a smile.

“Hey, Nonna, who was that?” Marinette asks, tying her hair up in a bun.

“That was a dear friend of mine,” she smiles.

“Cool, I was talking to Uncle Jagged and he invited us to go on tour with him,” Marinette says, starfishing out on her bed.

“Where’s he going because I wanted to see my friend,” Nonna explains.

“East coast, he’ll probably hit the west coast later,” Marinette says, attempting to shrug.

“Well it’s a good thing Alfred lives on the East coast,” Nonna says before standing up. “Want to go to lunch?”

“Sure, I’m eating for two and I’m right now starving after playing with Jagged and Fang,” Marinette says, sitting up. They ate lunch together before looking around London together. Later that night, she would call Jagged and let him know that Nonna was on board.

It would be three days later when Marinette boarded Jagged’s private plane where he would perform later that week. He would perform two shows in New England, one in Boston and one in Providence on two separate nights. Marinette loved seeing Jagged play, it brought her back to her college years. She loved seeing her outfits being worn. It helped inspire her to sketch out more ideas for Jagged, her line, and her coming baby. She had begun to think of some names for a boy she was thinking either Oliver or Alvern and for a girl she was thinking about something like Sophie or Charolette. (Leave what you think below)

She was now three and a half months pregnant and they were off to a couple of performances in New York. She enjoyed the life of the city and spent lots of time drawing when she wasn’t exploring with Jagged, Penny, Fang, and her Nonna, who hadn’t mentioned her friend since London. She really enjoyed all the lights and how modern the city was.  While in New York, she went in for her three-month check-up, where she told her baby was healthy and Marinette couldn’t be more happy.

They spent a week and a half in New York before moving onto the next city, New Jersey. She enjoyed her time there but didn’t want to stay too long, she wanted to see more. She was a bit restless. So she decided to start planning for after she gave birth, she decided to start looking for apartments in France that were still close to her friend and family for support, little did she know her plans would be changing very soon.

---------------------------------

@mlbchaosqueen is this enough angst?

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[sparrowrye]

Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, part 24

Synopsis: soulmate AU where you have the same mark on your body as your soulmate, and if your soulmate dies, you die too. Alastor needs to make sure that his soulmate is safe so he can continue his reign - whatever that takes. Though it looks like we have a couple secrets of our own.

Previous part

Part 24: fulfillment

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

"There needs to be a central place," Charlie paced around the small map lying on the library floor. "Somewhere for everyone to hang out and share feelings and meet each other."

Husker and I sat on one of the window seats with a drink in hand. He had alcohol and I had tea. The hot summer days brought heavy rain in most of the afternoons, either cooling things off or making everything hot and muggy. Fortunately, today was a cool day.

Alastor stood in the corner between me and the fireplace. Since the start of this project only two days ago, he had been increasingly annoying and bothersome. He always had some snide, rude, or sarcastic remark to make to anyone and everyone. When it came to me, he was always putting a hand on my shoulder. Each and every time I pushed it off.

"What about just one big hall? Meals and other activities can be held there, too." Vaggie was just as smiley as Charlie. If I had to guess, they had been bored out of their minds for decades since their hotel went under.

To my great dismay, I had been outvoted for location of the Safe Haven. We were going to build it from the ground up in the field and forest right outside the house. Alastor had casted a smug smile, one without teeth, in my direction when the decision had been made. It infuriated me.

Later, when the sun had sunk into the ocean, I was told there would be two more people arriving shortly. They were residents of Charlie's hotel long ago and apparently jumped at the chance to help her again.

She greeted the Demons at the back door and brought them into the library. One of them was a huge black snake with red eyes dotted across his skin. He wore a black hat and had long fangs poking out of his sweet smile.

The other one had four arms and a pair of legs. I thought he was a woman until he spoke and introduced himself otherwise. Husker had immediately stood beside him and the new Demon wrapped his arm around his shoulders. Husker had never told me about him before.

My veins suddenly tightened. 

Oh no. 

I asked if anyone wanted anything to eat or drink and hurried into the kitchen. I used my tail to move the one door closed, quietly, and leaned on the counter. I clutched at my chest and tried to push the feeling down. I had forgotten to hunt this morning since Charlie had practically dragged me out of bed and downstairs to plan.

"Everything alright?" Alastor's condescending tone reached my ears.

"Never better," I said through gritted teeth. I took a deep breath and grabbed mugs from the cabinet. "And no, I don't need you."

"I didn't ask."

I casted a glare up at him. I used magic to heat the kettle faster and poured hot drinks for four Demons, knowing Husker wouldn't take anything other than alcohol. I brought the drinks into the library and set them in the desk. They were all in heated discussion and I realized just then how good of friends they were with each other. I suddenly felt very out of place.

I silently disappeared and fled the house. I shifted into my Dragon and hunted through the forest for any critters. I needed something to make the pain stop.

It ended up being a bat. I sat under a large tree to stay out of the rain and sunk my teeth into its skin. No matter how much of it I drank and ate, the satisfaction grew worse. It was almost as if my body had grown immune to this type of blood.

Shit.

I made my way back to the house. Once the planning for the Safe Haven was finished, I needed to convince Charlie to let the first inhabitants be the children from the ring fights. I could get what I needed in the skirmish.

Alastor was waiting just inside the front door. "Did it suffice?"

"Leave me alone." I went back into the library feeling itchy all over. Even my blood felt itchy. At least the sharp pain was gone and it was just an annoying thorn in my back.

I was quiet for the remainder of the night for the most part. I let the group do their own thing and only offered my input when no one could decide on something. Alastor perched himself on one of the chairs in the corner and was also relatively quiet. He pushed my shields a few times as if to remind me he was there.

****

Building began the very next day. Alastor, Husker, and I spent the morning casting the water into the ocean and drying up the earth. Apparently all Demons hated rain, execept for me. Fortunately, the sun came out and helped speed up the process.

The group from last night came back ready to build. My heart stopped when I saw the King of Hell walking down in front of them. Alastor's eyes locked on the small man and static gurgled in his throat. It took all of three seconds before the two of them were at each other's throat. No one could tell me why they hated each other.

The group had decided to focus on creating basic housing 'huts', food gardens, and a common space for the newcomers to use. Once we had more people, the easier it would be to truly build the city. Charlie seemed to have a certain vision for it and some of her sketches looked interesting. She was incorporating a lot of nature into the layout. I couldn't say that I hated it. I had lived on concrete most of my life and being close to nature in the past year was really nice.

The basic layout followed most of what today's cities followed: brick and stone. She was already accounting for lots of inhabitants so the building had at least two layers to them. Everything had lots of windows to allow as much sunlight in as possible. It made sense since, even in the summer time, all the Demons wore long sleeves and pants. Husker and I were the odd ones out who were always sweating and complaining of the heat.

Alastor didn't do much to help the group. He stayed on the porch and simply watched from afar. Lucifer helped by magically spawning the material into existence but even he didn't do much to actually build anything. The rest of us used bits of magic to build the basic huts and the 'grand hall', as Charlie put it.

It felt good to have something physical to do. It was also refreshing to be around people other than Alastor and Husker. I didn't really say much, content with being silent and observant. They all seemed like really good friends and I even noticed Husker was especially close with Angel.

Everything was going fine for the most part. The huts were made from basic wood dug deep into the ground. There was a glass wall at the front where a curtain could be pulled across at night for privacy. Each one held four beds. They would soon be filled with ex-ring fighters.

Everything was going fine...until it wasn't.

We were nailing in one of the boards on the side of the hut when Angel nicked one of his arms on a nail. He pressed at the wound and dropped the hammer. My eyes widened as the smell reached my nose.

Oh no.

My feet were bolted to the ground and my hands hung still in the air. My Demon side came out as the smell only strengthened when he pulled his hand away. My veins tightened and breathing became really hard. Everything hurt. Husker was too busy tending to him to notice my state.

I breathed out through my nose and held my breath. I squeezed my eyes shut and took the to the sky in my Dragon form. I wanted to turn around so bad. I wanted to taste his sweet blood. It had been so long since I last had Demon's blood and he was so close to me. But I couldn't. That wasn't me. I wasn't a Demon like that.

But boy did Demon's blood taste sweet.

My mind started to hurt. I flew deep into the forest and landed in a cold river. I tried covering myself in the freezing water but it did nothing to rid the feeling. My eyes scanned the scenery for life, finally landing on a deer. I ran and caught it within seconds, tearing apart it's fresh and drinking it's blood.

It did nothing.

I shifted to my Demon form and tried again. No amount of blood or flesh eased the agony. It was so painful everywhere, inside and out. I needed to breathe, to think, to be normal. I needed blood other than an animal's.

I looked at the dead animal in front of me. My claws up to my elbows were covered in blood and the fronts of my pants were soaked with it. The poor creature had died for nothing.

Pain surged through me again. I curled inward and fell on my back. It felt like my body was eating itself from the inside. I crawled over to the water and looked at my reflection. My horns were obvious and blood was smeared across my face. I looked like a real Demon.

I dunked my head into the river and rubbed it off. It took several tries before most of it had finally come off my skin. My shirt and pants would need to be thrown out.

"This is very unbecoming of you." My head jerked up to see Alastor standing a few paces from me, cane in hand.

"What the hell do you want?" I snapped. I dried my face with the clean part of my shirt. I was afraid to stand in case it made the pain pulse again.

"To ensure my soulmate doesn't die because of her stubbornness and stupidity."

"I'm not stupid."

"You have waited so long and let yourself reach such a painful state because you couldn't set your ego and morals aside."

"You're one to talk about ego." Another pulse ran through my body. I curled further into myself as nausea took hold of me. I dug my hands into the earth and let out a strangled yell. I just needed it all to stop.

"All you had to do was ask." His cane tapped the rocks as he stepped near me. He knelt down and held out his hand. A piece of red meat sat on brown paper in his palm. He used his claw to poke it so blood dripped out.

Hunger and pain threw me off balance. I clung to the grass as my world began to tilt wildly to one side. My breathing came out in long, hard gasps. My head felt cloudy and I couldn't think straight. All I could focus on was the sweet smell of the blood in his hand.

I reached for it but he held it up. "Ah ah, you have to ask me first."

"What?" I choked.

"If you want this pain to go away, you have to ask me for this simple antidote."

"I'm not...you're...you can't..." I gagged as the pain worsened. I put a hand into the cold water but it did nothing to wake me up. "P-please..."

"Please what?"

"Please..." I started to drool as I struggled to push myself to my elbows. Everything took thrice the effort. I didn't want to ask him but it was so close. All I had to do was ask. That's it. "Can...can I have it?"

"What was that, dear?" He put a hand up to his ear condescendingly.

"Can I have it?" I asked through gritted teeth.

"Of course, darling." He held out the meat and I snatched it from his grasp. My teeth pierced the sweet flesh and the blood soothed every ache and pain in my body. It felt so satisfying as it slipped down my throat and warmed my body.

My head cleared and my muscles relaxed as I swallowed it. I let out a heavy sigh and laid down. I craved more but it had satisfied what I needed. I felt calm.

"Come, darling, let's make you presentable."

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

Author's Note:

OoooOoOOoh I liked this one a lot. Also, would y'all be interested in the Spotify playlist I listen to when I write this story?

[ymiwritesstuff]

I know I've already given you a request but this is stuck in my head. Could you do a Gyro x female vampire reader who is trying to go without feeding but just becomes weaker as a result and Gyro has to help her? Thank you and you're amazing!!!

Aah, thanks so much for the request and I am so sorry this took so long. I hope this will make up for it. I tried my best as I still need to get used to writing regularly but I sincerely hope you enjoy this!

Regaining Strength

Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure Part 7: Steel Ball Run

Gyro Zeppeli x Vampire!Fem!Reader

Summary: When the sun begins to raise the three travelers find themselves spending the upcoming day resting at a motel. However you quickly notice something isn’t right and it doesn’t take long before a certain Italian offers his help.

Notes: A bit of blood

The sun peaked over the vast horizon, bringing the rays of yet another morning with it and coating the area in a pleasant warm glow. This would mean yet another day of tiring riding for the majority of the racers of the Steel Ball Run, but not for a certain group of three.

The staff of the small motel looked at you and the two males rather curiously when you reserved a room to spend the day in, having been riding on horseback the entire night. Competitors occasionally traveled during the dark time of the day, however, none did this as consistently and often as you did. And the sole reason for this unusual time of travel was you.

Being a vampire provided a certain set of advantages but with those advantages came things that made life just a tad bit more difficult. Any exposure to sunlight could mean certain death for someone like you so the only way you could advance in the already dangerous race was doing so only when the sun set. Fortunately for you, you quickly found yourself in the company of Johnny and Gyro, the latter of which you had grown quite fond of during the Steel Ball Run.

After the curtains of the room you were to reside in had been closed and the young Joestar fell into a deep sleep on one of the beds, you found yourself looking around the quite charming space surrounding you, while secretly looking for any places from which the deadly sun could seep through. Gyro stood in front of the now-closed curtains and carefully peeked through, as he often did.

“Damn, the daytime looks so weird now. Who knew I’d get used to being awake at night so quickly,” he said while his emerald eyes scanned the sight of the morning before him. You looked at him while standing next to one of the empty beds and chuckled lightly. “Welcome to my world.” The Italian glanced at you and flashed a grin that slightly showed his golden teeth before turning back to the window.

“You sure you don’t wanna come take a look at this? The sun looks awfully pretty today,” he joked, knowing full well that his request would receive no action as you weren’t dumb enough to walk into certain death. Still, you played along.

“Oh, really? Well, perhaps I should-”

“When did you last eat?”

Suddenly, completely out of nowhere your legs gave out and you instinctively relied on the bed next to you for support. Your vision got strangely blurry and everything around you seemed to spin and distort in all kinds of ways. Having heard your sentence cut short as well as the small groan that left your mouth, Gyro quickly turned around, his previous joking attitude disappearing entirely.

“(Name)? Everything alright?” He swiftly approached you and helped you on your feet once more, however the strange dizziness was still very much apparent. “Y-yeah... I just... Felt dizzy all of a sudden...” Your hands held onto him for support while your mind tried to go through the possible causes for this sudden sensation. You were just about to realize what made you feel this sick, but Gyro seemed to reach a conclusion faster.

His question immediately caused you to look up at him and you began thinking back at the earlier events of the night. The distance you rode with your horses was a long one and Gyro made sure you were properly fed the entire time. However, for some reason, the feeling of hunger never hit you, or you had somehow managed to ignore it entirely. “Just before we started moving,” you say quietly, as you know that he realized just how many hours it had been.

Consuming blood was something you never enjoyed, yet you had to do it in order to stay alive. Starvation was already bad for a human, but when a vampire like you was in its clutches, things could get dangerous quickly. Gyro stayed quiet for a few seconds and you expected him to scold you for allowing yourself to go without food for such a long time, but instead, he let go of you and walked to the bed you had been next to, sitting down.

“Alright, you know the drill,” he said and began to remove his scarf that was loosely around his neck, the sight of which immediately made your eyes glow. “You know I’ll worry my ass off if you don’t eat.” His voice was unusually serious. Despite his playful and sometimes sarcastic personality, Gyro took you and anything you needed very seriously, to the point where he didn’t mind offering his blood in order to keep you strong. However, he also knew of your unwillingness to feed on human blood, let alone his.

“Gyro... You know I don’t want to. Besides, I feel just fine. Look,” You spun around a couple of times to try to convince him that you didn’t feel the previous dizziness anymore. But you couldn’t control the underlying desire to consume the delicious liquid flowing under the skin of his neck. Gyro looked at you, giving you a look that was not impressed by your convincing and you secretly knew he wasn’t going to let this one go.

“(Name), you know damn well I’m not gonna move or rest until you’ve been fed.” He said, still looking at you with eyes that were filled with determination and slight worry. He was stubborn about all of this, but it only because he cared. His gaze softened lightly. “I’ll be fine, you don’t need to worry your pretty little head off.” The small hint of playfulness in his voice returned and admittedly eased your discomfort slightly. However, you were still reluctant.

“But... What if I drink too much?” Your thoughts immediately went back to the last time you had drunk his blood and just how overwhelming the feeling had been. It was always risky and the last thing you wanted was to hurt him. His brows frowned slightly, but his gorgeous emerald green eyes were still locked on your currently weakened form.

“You won’t.” This caused you to finally look at him. The amount of confidence his words had puzzled you, how could he be so sure? “Gyro, this isn’t a game. How could you possibly know-”

“Because I trust you.” The way he spoke stuck to you like tar, his words reaching the very core of your being. He knew the risks, but was still willing to help you in any way he could, from traveling at night just so he could have you near him, to offering you his very own blood that you needed now more than ever. You accepted defeat with a sigh and made your way to him. It was not merely because his words and trust in a creature of the night had such an effect on you, it was also because the unbearable lust for blood seemed to partially be controlling your movements, your nose picking up the scent of the liquid under his skin.

You swallowed nervously as you sat next to him, the sound of his blood flowing in his veins echoing in your ears. “Just... Please tell me if it gets too intense,” you said, voice barely audible. “Sure thing, cara.” You barely caught the reassuring grin he flashed you as your eyes were already staring at the spot you desperately wanted to sink your fangs into. With slow movements, you lowered yourself to his neck and could hear his heart beating rapidly, despite his calm demeanor from the outside. It calmed you in a way.

With a small sniff you took in the captivating scent of his blood and after placing a gentle kiss on the soft skin of his neck, you pierced the delicate flesh with your fangs and immediately felt him flinch. You held onto him and as soon as the warm liquid hit the sensitive sensors on your tongue, something snapped within you, and that overwhelming lust you experienced last time you did this only seemed to grow. With every gulp, you regained your strength, and the more you consumed, the more addicting it became

It was unreal. Your claws gripped onto the material of his shirt and the desire to feel stronger kept your fangs in his neck even after you had devoured enough. You couldn’t stop. You wanted more. You needed more. All the surrounding sounds were overpowered by your own inner voices demanding more of that heavenly blood of his. It was intense, and Gyro could feel it too.

“W-woah... Hey, listen, (Name),” he said, his voice becoming much quieter and raspier. He felt his blood being drained from him and as your lust grew and your grip on him tightened, he knew it was time to stop. “I... I think you’ve had enough...” He gently grabbed your shoulders, which fortunately seemed to bring you back to reality as almost immediately, he could no longer feel your fangs digging into his skin.

Your (E/C) eyes looked up at him, worry sparkling in them. You were so quick to check up on him, you didn’t even notice the blood dripping from the corners of your mouth. “Are you okay?” You simply asked, feeling stronger than before, but worried about his condition. As a response, he merely chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. And you seem to be as well.” He said and looked at you, noting just how much better and healthier you looked. A sigh of relief escapes your lips and after you wipe the remaining liquid from your lips, you gently bring them to his cheek, as a sign of gratitude.

“Thank you.”

Gyro grinned at your action and immediately threw his arm around you. “Anything for you. Oh, and thank you for not killing me.” He joked once again, which made you giggle and wrap your arms around his neck.

“Of course, dear. If you died who would be my personal blood bag?”

The fact that he seemingly took this lightly was unbelievable to you, but then again, Gyro Zeppeli was one of a kind and you were fortunate to have him by your side.

[crazyyanderefangirlfan]

Bring on the Mania Pt 7

"I can't believe you're a designer."

"I can't believe you've been living under a rock."

After their encounter with Vil and Rook, the pair made their way back to Ramshackle. But not without Amane playfully scolding the girl.

The girl flushed at his response. "W-Well, I don't really watch fashion shows or anything related to it. But after coming here, I do now." She confessed.

He quirked a brow. "Only now?"

"Well, yeah." She said, re-adjusting the crate on her arms.

"I don't really pay attention or follow the trends, too much of a hassle. But, I am beginning to watch them after meeting Vil. Just want to support him, even if I can't understand everything."

Amane blinked at her answer, felt the corners of his mouth twitch to a smile. Despite admitting her lack of knowledge of the subject, she still made an effort to understand it for his sake. She's so sweet.

Though; that begs the question...

"So, you don't have a preferred style?" He asked.

"Not really. I just wear what makes me feel comfortable. My mom doesn't care as long as I'm happy, and my grandparents just remind me to wear shorts under my skirts."

Wow.

What felt like an hour, they finally spotted the gates of Ramshackle. Beyond the gate, Valerie could vaguely make out Gerald's ghostly form watering the flowers he planted last month.

"Hey, Gerald."

Her loud voice made the ghost pause and lookup. Upon recognizing her, Gerald placed the watering can down and flew over to open the gate. When his eyes landed on their items, he smirked.

"Ya, feeding an army, kid." He joked.

"Nah, just a chubby and over-indulgent trash cat." She retorted. The ghost chuckled.

Gerald flew overhead and opened the front door. He even offered to carry the two other bags for Amane, but the demon declined, saying it was good exercise. The ghost went back to watering.

When they entered Ramshackle, they found Grim on the couch. Taking a nap with an empty tuna can next to him. When they entered the kitchen, they found Lisha picking on some stray beetles on the counter. When the little strix noticed them, she grabbed a piece of paper next to her and flew over to Valerie. Dangling it for her to read. What it said made her bit her bottom lip.

Crowley may be the closest thing she had for a father, but sometimes she wants to shove a transformation down his throat. Turning him into a real crow, and breaking a wing, so Grim can hunt better,

She shook her head from those morbid thoughts, not the time.

"Sorry, Amane, but I have to do something. I'll come back as soon as I can to help you." She said, putting the crate down.

"Oh? What happened?" He inquired, placing the bags on the counter. She sighed.

"Crowley asked me to clean his office; while he has something to attend to."

"The fuck? Why would he do that?" Above all things crow shit makes her do...

"It's okay. In fact, I was first a handywoman and cleaning lady, along with Grim. But after a certain incident, we became students." She explained, running her fingers through her ponytail.

"Okay, let's go." He announced. The girl sputtered.

"I-I'm sorry, w-what?"

"Let's go to Crow shit's office. I wanted to see more of this school again. It's been ages." He answered, taking her hand and leading her to the door.

"W-Wait! Amane, I have frozens!"

"Don't worry, we'll handle it." As if on cue, Bennett and Wilbur floated down and began arranging.

"Well, you heard your ghostly guardians. Let's go!"

"Alright, I'll be quick, don't cause any trouble." The opal-eyed girl begged. Standing in front of the office.

"No promises, Sugar tits." The hetero-eyed male winked playfully. The brunette rolled her eyes and went inside.

With the two monsters back in Ramshackle, the demon was alone. Free to flirt with any one of these gorgeous boys without Lisha clawing his eyes out; or having her turned into her original form and trying to eat him.

He smirked.

"Get ready boys, this demon is on a hunt."

For the past hour, Amane happily flirted with several students; some even try to give him their numbers or ask for his. But he turned them down, he may love good-looking guys, but he ain't touching that.

"Oh baby, maybe if you and your dick grow a few inches, then I'll see." The incubi playfully boop a pouting student's nose before happily running away.

He turned to the corner to catch his breath, but the grin never left his face. This was too much fun!

In the corner of his eye, he found something glinting under the sun. Curious, he walked over. It was a blue tablet; it looked like it was charging. Intrigued, he pressed the power button. What he didn't expect was a voice on the other end.

"W-What a-are y-you d-doing?"

Idia felt the world finally turned against him. First, he forgot to charge his tablet last night, making him replenish it in solar mode. Next, he missed a rare event that won't come back in six months. To top it all off. A normie found his tablet.

Joy.

"Oh fuck, it talks." The person on the other side of the screen said in surprise.

'Ugh, go away. Talking to people like you drains all my health.'

"Hon, if you don't reply. I'm just gonna grab this thing and drop it somewhere-"

"No!"

Idia could feel their smirk from the screen. He wants a restart.

"The name's Amane Mania, you?"

The flame-haired male wanted to deny but decided he should if he tried anything.

"I-Idia S-S-Shroud."

"Idia, huh? What dorm are you from?" Amane questioned.

"I-Ignihyde." Idia could feel a severe drain of his energy.

"Ah, Ignihyde. A bunch of shut-ins, but high in sex drive." Amane sighed blissfully.

"What!?" The man barked in laughter.

"When I was still here, I had an occasional fuck with guys. What they lack in skill, they make up for enthusiasm."

There was silence from Amane's end; before purring his following sentence.

"Let's test that with you~" Idia's hair flared up. But, he didn't stop.

"Would you like me to call you daddy or master?"

Great seven's he cannot handle this. Please, Lord of the underworld, save him.

Fortunately, his prayer was answered.

"Excuse me!"

Startled by the loud voice, the incubus turned around and faced a...Kid?

Huh?

"That's my brother's tablet. May I have it back, please?" Innocent amber eyes stared at him.

"Umm, sure. Give me a moment." Though still confused on why a child was here, he was not going without the last word.

He whispered to the tablet, making sure the kid didn't hear him.

"Until next time, Dom switch."

Amane could have sworn something exploded on the other end, but he paid no mind. Instead, he gave the tablet to the young cyborg.

"Here ya go, Kid."

The child beamed. "Thank you!" Then zoomed off.

_______________________________________________

"Anything interesting happened when I was gone?" Valerie asked.

Just as she said, the girl didn't take too long and now walking back to Ramshackle.

"Well." He began his retelling his meeting Idia and a short cyborg.

"Oh, that's Ortho. He and Idia are considered one student. Like, me and Grim."

"Except, the little guy had a better personality than the gremlin." Amane retorted, earning a playful slap on the shoulder.

"Hey! Cut Grim some slack. Yes, he can be too much sometimes, but he has his moments." She defended. Amane just pulled her hood to her face.

"My~ Is this the infamous Amane I've been hearing so much about?"

"Fucking crack whore hell!"

The suddenness of the interruption causes the incubus to cling to the girl like a frightened cat.

Hanging upside down in mid-air was Diasomnia's playful vice-dorm leader, Lilia Vanrouge. The vampire had an amused smile on his face when he perceived Amane's shocked expression.

"Fufufufu, forgive my sudden appearance. I was merely interested to know the demon who cooked that delectable food Sebek brought."

The shock quickly wore off his body, replacing it with a familiar smugness Valerie knew.

"So, my cooking became legendary already? I'm flattered." The incubus fluffed up his hair and shot Lillia a sensual look. The ex-soldier chuckled.

"I believe we haven't been properly acquainted." Lilia landed in front of them, took Amane's hand, and kissed his knuckles. Flustering the demon and surprising the girl.

"My name is Lilia Vanrouge, a pleasure to meet you." His eyes were half-lidded, his smile fanged and filled with flirtatious mischief. For the first time Valerie has met him, Amane was blushing.

"Amane?" She called out hesitantly.

That seemed to snap him out of it; the poor man tried to laugh it off.

"Well, aren't you a gentleman? But I welcome change of pace." Amane smirked.

"Lilia!"

Recognizing the voice. The young brunette peered behind the senior. Jogging his way over was Silver.

"Finally found you, old man." The young knight huffed, relieved that his search is over.

"Good morning, Silver!" The girl beamed up at him.

The aurora-eyed male smiled softly in her direction; he took her hand and placed a lingering kiss.

"Good morning to you too, Valerie."

Lilia let out a small gasp as if realizing something.

"Oh, Dove. I forgot to greet you as well. Let me fix that."

Coming near her face, he gave her cheek a sweet kiss. The girl smiled, especially feeling the strands of his hair on her face.

"Lilia, your hair is on my face." She giggled.

Standing on the side, Amane could only freeze and stare with wide eyes and raised brows. A man was kissing her cheek, which lasted longer than necessary, and not even the slightest bit affected.

Just how dense is she?

"Okay, old man. That's enough."

Silver forcefully removed the shorter male off the girl. Jealousy bubbled in the pit of his stomach. But he tried his best to ignore it.

Lilia pouted. "Your no fun, Silver."

"Remember why we needed to find Valerie, and it's not just to thank Amane for the food." The silver-haired male sternly reminded.

"Yes, yes, I know." Lilia waved him off. Reaching to his coat pocket, he drew a small velvet pouch with a yellow rope. The sound of coins jingling can be heard within it.

Valerie groaned.

"You two know how I feel about this." She complained, rubbing her temples.

"I know, Valerie. But please, accept it just this once." Silver coaxed the girl, giving her a reassuring smile. However, she shook her head.

"Tell him, I appreciate that he's trying to help me. But like all the other times, my answer will still be no." The vampiric fae sighed at her declaration.

"You are absolutely stubborn, Dove." He said, pocketing the pouch.

"But then again. It is one of your charming points." The raspberry-eyed male flashed her a fanged smile.

"We'll be going now. We at least completed one thing needed. Though once we inform him that you refused again..."

"I'll deal with him once he comes to Ramshackle." She can already picture his pouting face in her mind.

Lilia nodded and gestured Silver to follow, giving the girl one last kiss on the cheek (Lilia) and hand (Silver). They walked away.

"Hold on." Amane broke in. "Someone wanted to be your sugar daddy?"

"My, what?"

A hoard of bats attacked the poor demon.

_______________________________________________

"H-Hey! Be gentle." Amane hissed as the cotton swab touched his face.

It took a while to get the bats off him. Thankfully, they left on their own accord, and an injured Amane too. Bite marks littered across his body, more so on his body; the skin on his arms was punctured and bleeding. Some even left small scars on his legs and stomach.

The midnight-haired male never felt so relieved for the girl's abnormal strength, carrying him bridal style and dashing all the way to Ramshackle. Without breaking a sweat or looking remotely tired.

Currently, the man was having his face nursed by Wilbur. His arms, legs, and stomach were neatly wrapped in bandages. Meanwhile, the girl was in the kitchen preparing lunch.

"I am being gentle. You keep fidgeting." The ghost remarked, dabbing Amane's face.

"What did you even do?" Grim chimed in.

On the coffee table, Grim and Lisha were waiting for his answer. Concern shone in the little Strix's eyes while Grim looked bored.

"I...Might have said something wrong." He confessed.

"Not surprising." The feline snorted.

"Hey-Ouch!"

"I told you to stay still." Wilbur chided.

"I dearly hope you won't influence Valerie too much."

Speaking of which.

"Hey, Grim. I need to ask ya something." Amane gritted his teeth, feeling another sting of pain on his face.

"Oh? So you require my wisdom? The great Grim will happily provide, what is it?" A smirk formed on the monster's face. Lisha rolled her eyes at his cockiness, and Wilbur chuckled under his breath.

"Where does Valerie get her money? I know Crow shit gives her allowance, but I'm not convinced."

"Mmm? that's it?" Amane nodded. "Alright, I'll tell ya."

"Yeah, bird brain gives her money. But we do random jobs to earn extra; she even works part-time in the Monstro Lounge sometimes." Grim explained.

Amane carefully regarded this new information and came to one conclusion.

"So, in other words. Valerie is deadass close to being broke."

"Pretty much."

Amane grimaced. This girl seriously needs help.

Loud knocking brought their conversation to a halt. Amane tilted his head, brows furrowed. Please don't tell him it's crow shit.

"I'll get it!" Bennet's voice rang through the air. There was a thick wave of silence; before a sound of footsteps and Bennet's uneasy voice were coming to the lounge.

"H-Hey, now wait for a second"

"Where is the child of man?" A deep voice interrupted the ghost.

Entering the lounge was a tall male with black hair, lime green eyes, and horns on his head. Behind him was Bennet, who shifted his eyes to Amane.

Lime green eyes fell to the demon, raising a brow.

"And who might you be?"

Amane had to seal his mouth shut to keep himself from drooling. This male before him is positively gorgeous! Tall, dark, and cool air of mystery, piercing green eyes stared into his very being, made him chew his inner cheek. Damn, he wanted to see those in the bedroom, and judging by his size, he has to be packing under his pants.

"The name's Amane Mania. I'm pretty famous here for my notorious good looks."

The demon flashed him a flirtatious smirk but cringed when he felt something stick to his face. Weakly glaring at Wilbur, who held a pack of band-aids. The ghost gave him a warning glare, but Amane stuck his tongue out at him.

"Ah." Realization dawned on the tall male.

"The demon currently living with the child of man and the one who cooked that exquisite meal."

"Damn straight. Now, I would like to know your name, handsome."

Everyone, save for Lisha, stared at Amane like he actually said, something prude.

"A-Amane." Wilbur stammered.

"You...Don't know who he is?" Bennet questioned, just as stunned. Amane shook his head.

"Even you, Lisha!?" Grim shouted in surprise. The little strix shrugged her wings, just as confused as the incubus.

"Interesting." Mused the ebony-haired male.

"Oh! Malleus, you're here."

The lime-eyed male, Malleus, straightened his posture when he heard her voice. Valerie peeked through the door with messed-up hair.

"Child of man, may I have a word with you?" He inquired.

The tone of his voice made the girl fidget in place. His stare prompted her to clutch her apron.

Looks like he's upset with her rejection.

"Fine, but let talk outside." She answered. She took off her apron and gave it to Bennett. She followed the tall male out, leaving the rest of the inhabitants to process what they witness.

The pair walked a safe distance away from the dorm; and sat on a bench underneath a tree large enough to shade them.

"Why did you reject my gifts? You need the money, correct? So, why?"

As soon as they sat down, the fae prince wasted no time questioning her. Confusion and hurt shone in his eyes, completed with a pout.

Valerie sighed.

"Malleus." She began. "I know you want to help me, and I'm grateful for it. But please understand, you giving me money so freely? It makes me...Um, well." She paused to find the right words.

"I feel like I'm leeching off you-"

"You're not." He firmly objected. Taking hold of her hands. Eyeing down at her in all seriousness.

"Even so, accepting money; I didn't earn leaves a bitter taste in my mouth."

Silence befell the two students. Malleus seemed to contemplate on her words, rubbing the back of her hand in small circles. After a few tense seconds, he sighed in defeat.

"Very well." He conceded, reluctantly pulling her hands away.

"However. If I ever find you struggling even more as it is, please don't refuse what I give you."

His tone made it clear that he was not giving her a choice, but there was a tinge of desperation.

"Okay, fine." The fae smiled in relief.

"Although. If you want to properly earn the money I give you, you can always come and cook for Diasomnia. I cannot count how many times Sebek has eaten Lilia's cooking for my sake."

The smile faded from his face to a tired frown upon remembering the times Lilia made those horrendous concoctions and insisting for the entire dorm to try. Out of everyone, Sebek suffered the most.

That earned a sympathetic smile from her. "I'll think about it."

She stood up, re-arranged her hair into a neat ponytail again, and faced him.

"Would you like to join me for lunch, Tsunotaro?" Her smile radiated warmth like a fireplace.

Ah, that nickname such fond memories. Enough to muster a small smile and a response.

"I would be delighted."

_______________________________________________

"So...He's a prince."

"Yes."

"And one of the top five powerful wizards."

"Yes. I'm surprised you didn't know about this."

"Eh, not into that sort of stuff."

Meanwhile, the residents of Ramshackle were busily explaining who Malleus was to the two ignorant demons.

"You could at least know he was royalty. Doesn't your family branch over Twisted Wonderland?" Gerald asked. He got back from the kitchen, and here he was.

"I honestly have no fucking interest that shit." Amane's heated reply stunned the ghosts. This is the first time they saw him this angry.

Those who had witnessed it reacted in their own way. Lisha had an understanding look in her eyes. Grim, however, yelped in fear and accidentally shot a fireball at him. Who immediately dodged.

"Gah!"

"Grim!"

"What the fuck, you little shit!"

"Screee!"

"You were about to go on demon mode!" Grim argued, swatting the flames with his tail.

"No, I wasn't!" Amane protested. He grabbed the bowl of water Wilbur used to clean his face and splashed it on the burning couch. It worked, but now they were left with a charred piece of furniture.

"Oh, boy." Gerald muttered under his breath; as he scanned the mess.

Valerie won't be happy with this.

"I'm back!" Speak of the devil.

"I hope you won't mind that Malleus will join-" Valerie blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Yeah, this is real.

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply; before letting it all out.

"Alright." She finally said. Opening her eyes, she surveyed their tenses expressions.

"Grim, what did you do?"

"Why me!?" The monster complained.

"You're the only one who does fire magic." She deadpanned.

"I thought he was going on demon mode, that's why." The cat explained, pointing an accusatory paw at the incubus.

"No, I wasn't, ya little shit!" The midnight-haired male furiously retorted.

"You were!"

"Why I oughta-"

"Okay! That's enough." Valerie interrupted, stepping between the demon and monster. Both looked more than eager to fight.

"Since this is clearly an accident, and Grim just went on instinct. So Grim, please apologize to Amane." She calmly instructed the monster, who looked offended.

"What? Why should I-"

"Do it, or I'll make you go on an all broccoli and spinach diet for two weeks." Her smiling face did not match the threatening tone in her voice.

If Grim was human, he would have paled at the thought only to eat those for two weeks straight.

"Sorry, Amane." The monster mumbled, but it was audible enough to hear. Valerie smiled at her accomplishment.

She turned to face everyone and clapped her hands.

"So...Ready to eat?"

Lunch had been thankfully more tamed. Even Grim didn't give his (loud) compliments on her cooking. Looks like her threat left him silent. She did well on lunch.

Kung pao shrimp, roasted salmon with green beans, and tomatoes. A chicken and radish salad, followed by pink lemonade.

"You're an excellent cook, Valerie." Malleus complimented. Taking another bite of his salmon.

"Thank you." Valerie smiled.

"Yeah, not bad. You're almost better than me. Almost." Amane emphasized the last part with a teasing grin. To which the girl rolled her eyes.

After lunch Amane's phone went off, taking it to the lounge with Lisha on top of his head. Leaving Grim and Valerie to do the dishes, Malleus decided to stay and talk to his favorite human more.

Once that was done, she scooped Grim onto her arms, walking out the kitchen with the fae prince in tow. Making their way to the lounge, they paused when they heard Amane's voice. There was slight aggravation in his voice.

"I see. In that case, please forward it to my assistant."

Valerie peered from the entrance. The man sat on the couch, running his fingers through his hair. He finally turned his head, nearly jumping out of his skin when he saw her head.

"Lover of cow tiddies!- Don't do that!" He cursed. Amane slumped on the burned couch, mentally drained from the call.

"Is something troubling you, Mania?" The fae prince questioned. Taking a seat on a nearby chair, and the girl sat next to the demon.

"Nothing to sweat about. But it looks like I have to cut my time short." The incubus confessed, tiredly rubbing his face. Lisha rub his cheek in comfort.

"Huh, why?" Valerie's face wrinkled in concern. But the demon chose to ignore what she said.

Amane got up and dragged his feet out of the room. Disregarding the concern or curious gazes of the others.

The girl wordlessly watched the man walked out. As much as she wanted to help him, she knew it wasn't her business and might anger him.

"You care for him quite a lot." A deep voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

Malleus has been observing her reactions ever since they came back to the dorm. Safe to say, he was a bit jealous of the demon. The fae prince had been vying for her attention since the VDC. Even more when she saved him from his overblot.

The girl rubbed her arms. "Y-Yeah, he opened his heart towards me the last time he stayed here. So I have to be worried for him."

The lime-eyed male stayed silent.

"You didn't forget anything, right?"

"Nope, and don't worry about cleaning the room. I already did that."

The pair stood in front of the entrance door. Amane carried a small bag filled with the items be brought and bought. In the background was Malleus, who was holding Grim at the moment. Lisha was on top of the incubus' head.

"Really? How sweet." Valerie gave him a small smile. Appreciating the gesture.

"You suffered enough bullshit from this school. It the least I could do." The hetero-eyed male playfully pinched her cheek, earning a whine from her. Making him snicker.

"See ya next time, Sugar tits, and you too ya, fat gremlin."

"Quit calling me that!" The monster fumed. Long and slender fingers scratched under his chin, causing him to purr in content. Malleus let out a mirthful chuckle at the action.

Retrieving his hand, Amane gave the girl a mock salute and stepped.

_______________________________________________

Valerie hummed as she fixed her hair into her signature style, albeit replacing her pink ribbon with a black one.

It was getting dark, which meant it was time for her shift in the Monstro Lounge. Malleus left hours ago after watching some historical movie, knowing fully well Sebek and Silver would go out and bring him back to the dorm. Meanwhile, her little monster was sleeping peacefully on her bed.

Valerie checked herself on the mirror for the final time. She was currently wearing a female version of octavinelle's dorm uniform. Except, she replaced it with a black mini pencil skirt, lavender stockings with garters, and black kitten heels.

Once she deemed herself presentable, she grabbed her phone from the bed to check the time. However, when she opened it, there was a text. Her eye twitched when she noticed it was from the headmaster.

"Please don't let this be another errand." The poor girl prayed before reading it.

'Ms. Kemonohito, I'm happy to inform you that all your student debts have been by none other than Mr. Mania. He will also pay for your schooling and accommodations from now on. Ahh, it brings my heart such joy that Night Raven alumni can be as kind as their headmaster.'

Valerie had to re-read the text five times to make sure her eyes weren't playing tricks. She stood there, frozen in shock.

Just why?

A loud knocking brought her out of her dilemma.

"Come in."

Opening the door was Gerald, who held a folded piece of paper.

"I accidentally phased in Amane's room and found this on the bed. It had your name on it." The ghost informed before heading out.

Valerie eyed the piece of paper in her hands; it felt hard. Carefully unfolding it, she let out a small gasp.

Credit cards. Amane's credit cards, there were about five of them in her hands. Quickly, she read the note, desperate for an explanation.

'Hey, Sugar tits.

I hope ya like the gift I left ya. I know what you're thinking, 'I can't accept this!' But I really want you to have it, you deserved it. You've been thrown into an unknown world; and placed in the care of an arguably competent man. Which I know by experience can be utterly useless in some situations.

I also took the liberty of paying for your academics and housing of that dorm of yours too. Don't worry about paying back; it's alright, really. You worked your ass since you got here. You are tired, I can see it. Lorelei is good at hiding it too.

Also; If you are worried about earning money, I think I can arrange something, but it's a surprise.'

-Love your new reliable (and gorgeous) guardian, Amane.

A smile threatened to form her face when she finished reading it. This man, whom she known for a short while, was going above and beyond to help her. This feels like those found family tropes in media.

As thoughtful as it was, Valerie recalled a certain fae making a similar promise, and it made her stomach churned. She wasn't sure how to break the news to him. She already made him upset with her rejection, and she raised his hopes up with her promise.

The opal-eyed girl just hopes he'll take it well.

Taking a deep breath, she texted Azul that she's unable to work tonight due to feeling unwell and needed time to rest. Once she has his confirmation, Valerie flopped on her bed.

"Oi! Henchwoman! What the heck and aren't you supposed to go to work!?"

Grim growled, obviously not happy from being woken up.

The girl simply just pulled her little monster close; and buried her face on Grim's fur.

"Not tonight. Actually, I'm going to tell Azul I won't be working in the Monstro Lounge anymore unless he needs a favor." Her reply was kinda muffled. But audible. This confused them.

"Eh? Really? Then where will you get the money?" The cat monster implored. The girl merely raised her head and smiled at him.

"Let's just say; we got a certain weirdo taking care of us now."

Bonus:

"..."

"..."

"U-Uhhh, Malleus?"

"..."

"Listen, I really value your generosity and concern for me. Trust me, I was just surprised. Please believe me-"

"I do."

"Really!? Your not mad?"

"I am disappointed that I won't be able to help you, but I am thankful to him and his ability to provide for you."

"I'm not."

"No need to be jealous, Azul."

"Be quiet, Jade."

A/N: Finally done with this chapter! Sorry for the long wait, I know this long over due but I hope you like it.

[madhare0512]

If it’s not too much trouble, could I bother you for a part 2 to rescuing the detective? Maybe when the detective wakes up?

yes! I'm so sorry to cut it off there, my brain just wouldn't give me anything else. I'll time skip to when Tiv wakes up! tagging: @codebreaker-manes-files

content warning: mentions of bullet wounds, death

Tiv Setter comes into awareness slowly. When his voice box is properly working, there’s a cut off whimper, then he shoots up with a gasp, eyes flying open.

“Easy, buddy. You took a bullet. Are you alright?” asks a kind voice. 

Tiv glances over. “I’m alright,” he says.

The speaker nods with a smile. “My name is Blank. Phantom and Mare asked me to look after you while they figure out what’s going on.”

“How do you mean?” Tiv asks nervously. The last time he’d heard that phrase, six people died. 

“Well, see. You look exactly like someone under the Battle Brothers’ protection. We just want to make sure this isn’t a dark spell. They should be back any second.”

Tiv nods, “Alright.”

He takes a stock of himself. The banadage wrapped around his torso is neat and clean, the wound itself feels less like a bullet wound and more like a scratch. He wonders what they had to do to make the pain go away like that.

The door opens suddenly and in stroll two men who look remarkably similar. Tiv assumes the pair are the Battle Brothers.

The one in red speaks, “You’re awake. That’s good. My name is Phantom, this is my brother Mare.”

The one with sharp fangs and glowing blue eyes offers a nod. 

Tiv blinks, then replied, “Detective Setter. And yes, that is my legal name, not an earned job position. You can call me Det of Tiv.”

Phantom chuckles softly. “Pronouns?”

“He/him.”

“Mister Setter, do you know how you came to be in my club this morning?”

Tiv hums, “It’s kind of blurry.” He thinks, “I was looking for my brother. I’ve been looking for a few years now. I was on the street, following a lead and someone... Someone shot me, I think.” He sighs, “But I don’t remember after that.”

Tiv smiles apologetically, “I’m afraid that I’m a bit of an amnesiac. I forget things easily.”

Mare raises an eyebrow. “A bit?”

“Yes. I forget short term things easily, like where I put certain things or who i’m supposed to meet and when, but I don’t forget important things. My doctor seems to think it’s all trauma from my childhood and I’ll rediscover it in time.” Tiv smiles, 

Mare glances at Phantom and nods. Phantom hums, “you said you where looking for your brother. Who is your brother?”

“His name is Maddox Theoria.”

Phantom raises an eyebrow. “I see. Mare?”

Mare huffs, then turns and heads out. Blank steps closer to Phantom. Phantom hums again. “You seem to have either the best luck of anyone I’ve ever met or good fortune with probablility. I apologize. We’ve been through much, Mad most of all. We had to make sure you wouldn’t hurt him.” 

Tiv sits up a little straighter. “I understand. I’ve done similar things to protect my clients as a private investigator.”

Phantom smiles. He goes to say something, but then the door opens and Tiv looks over. 

Standing in the doorway, a man with deep brown eyes and sandy brown hair steps inside the room. He’s quietly confident though he sticks close to the siren who guides him in. He’s perfectly at ease, even surrounded by people who could easily cause him harm.

Tiv sits shocked, staring up into a face that looks exactly like the one he sees in the mirror every morning. 

Mad stands there just as shocked. He steps forward, reaches out. 

Tiv meets him halfway, grasping his hand. “Detective Setter,” he says softly.

“Maddox Theoria,” Mad returns.

Det smiles. “I’m so glad to finally meet you.”

Mad sniffles, eyes filling with tears. “You too.”

[slippinmickeys]

The Earl (9/13)

If you’d like to read this on AO3, you may do so here. 

CHAPTER NINE

Mulder rode Hercule into the village alone, as stipulated by the menacing note. Byers, Frohike and Langly had taken Byers' carriage to the edge of town just after they all broke their fast that morning and were set up at strategic locations around the village church. They were watching and waiting. For whom, no one was quite sure.

At the appointed hour, Mulder stabled his horse at the village blacksmith and walked to the church, opening the gate, according to his pocket watch, at precisely 3:00. He walked through the small graveyard and on to the door. Quiet seemed to expand all around him; no horses or carriages passed by in the street, no villagers seemed to walk by, nor call out greetings to each other. All he could hear was the sound of his breathing and the sound of his own heart. He stepped through the door under the tower.

He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting to find. Some swarthy-looking brigand or even Spender himself. Instead, the church was empty.  

“Hello?” he called out. His voice seemed to echo coldly against the stone walls. His call was met with silence. He made his way slowly through the nave, the box pews on either side of him empty. He approached the chancel, passing the steps to the empty pulpit, and stopped when he got to the rail before the altar. He turned slowly until he was facing the pews and again called out, “Hello?”

It was then that he noticed a sheet of parchment sitting on the bench of the first pew. He hurried toward it and picked it up, flipped it over. It was blank. When he looked up, there was a gentlewoman standing just inside the south aisle. When he took a step toward her, she turned before he could see her face and rushed out the door of the south porch. He gave chase.

She was wearing a light green frock with a matching bonnet, the sides of which flopped low over her face. She hurried through the gravestones and around the back of the building. When he rounded the corner, he nearly ran into her. She was standing, holding out a piece of parchment like the one still clutched in his hand.

When he took it, she raised her head and he finally saw her face.

“Miss Spender?” he asked, his voice croaking in surprise. “Are you-”

She raised her hand higher, holding the paper almost up to his face.

“Take it,” she said, insistently, “you’ll need to give it to the proprietor of the coaching inn just south of town.” Mulder slowly took the paper from her, his face still frozen in surprise. “He will give you a trunk in which you will place the 20,000 pounds. Once the trunk is secured, he will give you further instructions. You have… you have one week exactly to comply, my lord.”

She turned to go. Shaking himself, he grabbed her arm. She startled but turned.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked.

She smiled sadly. “You have made your choice in this life, Lord Wexford,” she said, “and I have made mine.”

Anger flared in him and he gripped her arm a little tighter.

“Why are you here?” he asked. “You could have just as easily given these instructions via the post. Why have you implicated yourself in an act so heinous as this?”

“I suppose I wanted to see you, one last time,” she said. “I wanted to say to you… I could have made you happy. We could have been happy together.”

“I am happy,” Mulder said simply.

“But I am not,” she replied in a voice devoid of feeling.

His anger coiled into a snake of rage, fangs bared and ready to strike. He squeezed her arm harder -- hard enough to leave a mark -- and she winced.

“We are going to the constable, you and I. Right now,” he said, his voice low and angry. He turned to leave and pull her along but she resisted.

“If I am not back to my father by an appointed hour, he will hurt Lady Wexford. I swear it.”

Mulder released her and took a step back, gasping. The hand that gripped the paper she had given him was curled around it like a vice, the paper crumpled and crushed. “Tell me where she is,” he whispered.

Diana nodded toward his hand. “Take care with that token, Lord Wexford,” she said, “your wife’s life depends on what you do next.” With that she turned and walked through the back gate, disappearing under the branches of a tree in the village center.

When Mulder emerged onto the street, walking in a daze, Byers, Frohike and Langly all came trotting up from different directions.

“What happened?” Frohike said. “I saw no one. Langly?”

Langly shook his head. They turned to Byers.

“I saw no one but a gentlewoman praying over a grave,” Byers said, a little out of breath.

Mulder couldn’t bring himself to meet their eyes.

“A gentlewoman in a light green frock?” he asked. Byers nodded, his brow creasing in concern. “It was Miss Diana Spender,” Mulder said without inflection, “I have one week to put together 20,000 pounds.”

He turned toward the blacksmith’s and walked away from his friends.

XxXxXxXxXxX

The next morning after bringing her breakfast and a fresh chamber pot, Duane Barry came to clear her plate and stood in the doorway of her room, hovering.

“Mr. Barry?” she asked, looking at him in question.

“If you care to follow me?” he said, “you’ll want to grab your washing.” He then turned on his heel and marched out the door. She grabbed her clothes and rushed to follow him before he could change his mind.

He hastened through the house, and she looked around her, trying to memorize the layout. The house was well appointed, but not necessarily well kept. There seemed to be a layer of dust that lay over all the furnishings, reinforcing Barry’s stance that he was indeed the only other person (or at least the only staff) in the house. She listened for any other movement but heard none.

He led her down a hallway and a staircase, turning left, then right, and down a small set of stairs to the kitchen, through a scullery door and out into the blazing sunshine. He turned to her expectantly and she gathered her wits, looking about her.

Several feet away sat a large copper boiler atop a small fire, which steamed in the sunlight. Next to it sat a tub, a two foot long wooden paddle and a short table upon which sat lye soap, chalk, a lemon, and a small bottle of clear liquid. She approached the table and gave the bottle a dubious sniff. Kerosene.

“The kerosene is for bloodstains, ma’am. My lady,” Barry amended, looking away. She nodded. “Has a lady as fine as yerself ever done the washing, ma’am?” he asked.

She took a deep breath and decided honesty was the best policy. She knew the basics, but...

“I have not,” she said, “But I am a woman of my time, Mr. Barry, eager to learn anything and everything.”

“You’ll boil the clothes first in the copper kettle,” he said, then pointed to the paddle, “you’ll want to agitate them for a quarter hour. Then into the tub with the lye soap. Once washed, you can treat for, uh, stains… Again, the kerosene is for blood,” his cheeks colored, “the chalk for grease, the lemon for any bleaching as it may need. Should you, uh, ever need to do laundry again, nearly every kitchen is outfitted similarly.” She nodded. “Then you wring out excess water, and hang to dry. There is no clothesline here, but some fine bushes and hedgerows. If’n you’re lucky, they’ll be dry by evening.”

Scully looked about her, taking the opportunity to scan the area around the small kitchen garden. Beyond the garden gate, there was a decently sized but unkept lawn and beyond that, the iron fence. There was a back gate in the fence, likely used by household staff.

She looked back toward Barry, who lowered himself onto a three-legged stool by the kitchen door and watched her warily. She turned toward the few pieces of clothing she needed to wash and dumped the lot of them into the boiling kettle. Picking up the paddle, she swirled it through the water, tentatively at first, and then with more force, careful to keep the hem of her skirts away from the small fire beneath it.

Once she got into the rhythm of it, she turned to Barry, stirring all the while. “Is this your first kidnapping?” she asked, peering closely to gauge his reaction. “Or is it your main profession?”

He had the decency to look abashed.

“It is my first time being abducted,” she went on, and with that word, he got a queer look in his eye. “I suppose we shall get through it together,” she finished. She turned back to her washing. Her arms were beginning to ache and her brow to sweat, but she was too proud to do anything but carry on.

“I am sorry for it, ma’am,” he said, “my lady,” he corrected.  

“Are you?” she challenged him.

He took a deep, bracing breath, and then he looked away.

XxXxXxXxXxX

“I care not about the money. I will pay it,” Mulder said, as they sat around the dining room table later that same evening. The Wexford fortune was large enough to weather a 20,000 pound blow. “But I’ll not let the Countess be imprisoned by that man for another minute. We must find him. We must find her .”

The other men around the table grumbled their agreement. Suzanne was so distraught by what had happened that she’d taken to eating all of her meals in her chambers.

Mulder pushed the food around his plate for one more minute and then rose quickly, startling the footmen who stood about the room, ready to serve. Food tasted like ash in his mouth. The world had no flavor and less color without his wife beside him to enjoy it with. “I cannot countenance this,” he spat and turned to leave the room. “Alex!” he said -- his own footman had been helping serve the meal.

“My lord?” Alex said, stepping forward.

“With me,” Mulder said and strode from the room. Alex followed obediently. The footman had been extremely helpful; going out of his way to assist Mulder with nearly all of the searches for the Countess. Mulder thought that perhaps he felt guilt for not being able to identify the rider who had returned to the estate with Easterly the day Scully had gone missing. When pressed, Alex did admit that it could very well have been Duane Barry. Alas, there was nothing for it, Mulder concluded, but to carry on.  

“Get a coat,” Mulder said, making his way to the door of the manse, “and meet me in the stables. We’re riding into the village.”