#when he restores them he is suddenly plunged into a wave of memories: of the entire Fives discovering the chip arc

[yukipri]

Before the Bad Batch S2 premieres tonight, sharing what I hope happened after S1:

Echo is fixing AZI, and notices some wiped memory data. He offers to restore it, and sees—

~~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, EDIT, TRANSLATE, OR OTHERWISE USE MY ART. To share, please reblog! Reblogs and comments greatly appreciated!!!

❀ You can see the rest of my art through the Masterpost pinned to the top of my blog!

#YukiPri art #TBB #the Bad Batch #SW TBB #ARC Trooper Echo #Arc Trooper Fives #TCW #The Clone Wars #AZI-3 #Star Wars #Fives #Echo #echo tbb #OP/Artist comment: originally I had this planned out as a comic I wanted to draw after S1 ended but I never got around to it #in that comic Echo plugs into AZI and finds his wiped memories #when he restores them he is suddenly plunged into a wave of memories: of the entire Fives discovering the chip arc #from AZI's POV #afterwards as he sits there stunned #he says to AZI 'You told Fives you wanted to feel human emotions. Do you still want to?' #and AZI tells Echo the same thing he told Fives: yes he's always wanted to feel human emotions #so Echo lets him FEEL because he's human but can connect to droids and transfer his memories to them—including his emotions and #AZI is like oh...i feel sadness. i do not like this...i now want to cry but i cannot...you will have to cry for both of us #and Echo suddenly realizes that yeah he's crying #....that would be nice in S2

[athina-blaine]

MoMM Chapter 4 - The Storm, Part 1 (Preview #1)

(Note: this is not the finalized draft; anything featured is subject to edits or deletion!)

Chapter 3: The Empty Corridors

“To be honest, I’m not entirely sure I deserve that. Your friendship. After everything I’ve done since…”

“Of course you do. Listen to yourself; it’s not like you wanted to frighten me.” An inch of space sat between their hands. “Is this …? Um. Is this okay …?”

The winds continued to howl, and Martin's hand lay limp on the bed sheets. His face grew hot, and he started pulling back. Stupid idea. But then Jon slid his hand closer until their fingers brushed. Emboldened, Martin wrapped his hand around Jon's, his burn scar grazing the soft skin of Martin's palm.

He squeezed gently.

“No one deserves to be lonely, Jon.”

Jon had no response, staring out to the storm that continued knocking on their windows. He stared, and he let Martin hold his hand.

Chapter 4 - The Storm, Part 1

Martin was an optimist. He had to be. Anything else would have been utterly unbearable.

That being said, he was… relatively confident things would get better. Jon had confided in him the terrible secret of Magnus Manor and the truth of this hellish storm. The Lonely. And understanding a problem meant you were one step closer to solving it, right? It meant one step closer to getting out of the cursed estate you’d found yourself trapped in.

Most importantly, though, the two of them were talking again. Above all else, that gave him hope.

 Jon was waiting for him in the foyer the next morning. His nose was buried in a book, but when Martin approached, he looked up, and Martin liked to think he looked pleased.

“Good morning,” Martin said, hoping he didn’t sound too flustered.

“You as well. Would ... would you be amenable to sharing some morning tea? If ... if you're still offering ...”

“Y-yes, of course.” So yesterday hadn’t been a fluke; Jon wasn’t going to leave him alone again. “That sounds great. Um. English Breakfast, then?”

Jon smiled, nodded, and fetched them both a pot and one cup apiece. The porcelain warmed Martin’s aching fingers, a refreshing respite from the chill that crept so subtly through the halls.

They drank, and they talked about very little. Martin’s tongue burned with questions (–what’s it like living with these entities? How do they manifest? Will we get out of here soon?–), but he restrained himself; the age lining Jon’s face had soothed as he sipped his tea,  and when he asked Martin how he’d slept, there was a shy twist to his mouth.

Right now, Martin wanted to enjoy himself. Enjoy Jon and a warm cup of morning tea. There would be plenty of time to agonise later.

In the meantime, he’d just need to keep busy. Now was as good a time as any to give cleaning the manor another chance. Masochistic, maybe. Impossible, certainly. But at least this time he didn’t have to worry about being reprimanded. Probably.

One of the many study rooms that littered the estate would be a good place to start. Small as it was, its sooty fireplace and dusty couch was enough of a time sink for his purposes.

He was in the middle of battling a particularly stubborn stain when the door opened and Jon peered inside. Despite everything, Martin couldn’t help his trill of anxiety, made all the worse when Jon kissed his teeth.

“Must I iterate that it’s not necessary for you to – ”

“I want to.” It was still such a shock to just see Jon, to have them talking, that the words came out in a breathless, jumbled mess. “I promise. I-I like cleaning, honest. It keeps my mind off … you know, things.”

Jon paused mid-stride. For a moment, Martin thought he was going to be chased off anyway, and then he’d have to actually beg to clean, because the thought of spending another minute with nothing to do but contemplate their situation– 

“I–” Sighing, Jon brought a hand to the bridge of his nose. “Fine. Yes, fine, if you insist. So long as you understand that it is absolutely not an expectation of you.”

Martin’s shoulders sagged with relief. Another hurdle crossed.

He’d just convinced himself to relax and finally let his mind wander, soothed by the familiar, tediousness of cleaning a fireplace, when Jon unclasped his cloak, lying it over the sofa. 

“What are you doing?”

“Assisting you, obviously. Having you clean it in my stead when I’m the one responsible for it falling into disrepair doesn’t bear thinking about.”

Doesn’t bear thinking about. What didn’t bear thinking about was a man of Jon’s stature doing menial work like this in the first place. But Martin was hardly about to refuse his help … or his company, so freely given. “Um. Thank you. You don’t have to be so hard on yourself, though. There’s literally no way you could have kept this place clean all by yourself.”

“I appreciate the reassurance, but the point is moot.”

Well, if Jon wanted to roll up his sleeves and work at a grimy fireplace, Martin wasn’t about to stop him. When Jon literally rolled up his sleeves, he bit back a smile. The skin of his forearms was paler than that of his hands and face, smooth and free of blemishes. When was the last time he’d enjoyed a bit of sunshine without his shirt buttoned up to the chin?

Not that Martin had any business considering a thing like that in the first place. God, his face was burning again.

“I hate cleaning,” Jon murmured as he dunked the spare cloth in the water bucket. “Nothing ever stays clean.”

“Yeah. Gotta do it, though. Oh, you should keep your elbow up. You won’t tire out your arm as quickly.”

“Oh. Yes, I see.” Jon sighed. “Perhaps the fault lies with me. I’ve never been particularly good at domesticity, after all. The rare times my grandmother was home, the only thing we talked about was how untidy my room was.”

Martin’s ears perked. The opportunity to learn more about Jon and his past? It was too enticing to resist. “Your gram wasn’t home much, then?”

“Not often. She was the matriarch of our family, so important business kept her in the capital most days.”

Oh. How … odd. Martin didn’t know anything about how noble families handled representing themselves, but … “I figured your mom or dad would take care of that sort of thing after a while. Did your gram just enjoy the work?”

“Both of my parents passed when I was a child.”

Martin’s stomach plunged to his feet. What a stupid blunder to make. “I’m … I’m so sorry.” 

“It was a long time ago,” Jon said, waving him away. “I was barely more than a baby at the time. I simply don’t remember enough of them to mourn their loss.”

Martin wasn’t sure if that made it worse. For all that Martin mourned the absence of his father, at least he had fleeting memories of warm hands and a deep voice to prove he’d existed at all. That he’d had a father once. “Still, that must have been … a bit lonely.” 

“Not at all. I always had my governess’ supervision. She provided the structure and discipline I required.” Jon laughed, a wistful, breathy thing, and lowered his head. “I was … a rather troublesome child.”

That did even less to make Martin feel better, because he suddenly had this image, unbidden, of a little boy with big eyes and gangly knees, head hanging as his grandmother told him off in clipped tones, before leaving once again to the bustling capital. No hugs, or gentle forehead kisses. Just a scolding about his messy bedroom.

I’m sure you were wonderful, he wanted to say. I’m sure you deserved better than that. 

But he was probably just projecting again.

“I’ve always liked cleaning,” Martin said, instead. “Makes me feel useful. My mum, she’s … she’s been sick most of my life. Nothing too serious,” Martin added quickly as Jon turned his head. “She just gets tired a lot. You know, hard to stay upright most of the time. There wasn’t a lot I could do to make her feel better, but keeping things clean helped.”

“I … I’m sorry to hear your mother is ill.”

“We were really lucky, actually. We lived in the same town as a really good doctor. He was really generous with us, but eventually … I-I couldn’t keep up with the bills running the farm all by myself, especially after our last goat died. We had to sell a few years ago, and I had to find work in the city.” Even after all this time, his throat tangled at the memory of leaving his childhood home. “Managed to land a really good job at the lord’s castle, so I always had money to send home. Every month. Haven’t been late once, yet. Until …”

“… Until now.”

Martin opened his mouth, because, well, he wasn’t late yet. There was still time for Martin to send his letter: about a week or so. That was plenty of time. But he refrained, because saying as much to Jon felt … dangerous. Like he was tempting fate. 

Things were going to work out. They had to. The storm was going to clear, they were going to get out of here, and then … 

“Your devotion to your mother is admirable,” said Jon.

Warmth ballooned in Martin’s stomach, spreading to the tips of his ears. It was an absurd thing to receive praise for (oh, you love your mother, really going above and beyond), but … well, it was still nice to hear, every once in a while. Or at all. “Thank you.”

It took most of the morning, but, with their combined efforts, they managed to restore the fireplace to an off-colour white. Martin stepped back, basking in the glow of a job well done. Jon, however, didn’t appear quite as chuffed as Martin felt. Rolling out his wrists, the man collapsed onto the couch, kicking up a cloud of dust in the process and triggering an intense coughing fit.

“Break time?” Martin asked, taking a much more gentle seat. His only answer was more coughing. Poor thing looked utterly done with the whole enterprise, if the curl of his nose was any indication. “So, what do you do for fun around here?”

“Fun?”

“Yeah. Unless you really intend to help me clean this room all day?”

Jon laughed, turning away sheepishly.  “I … yes, um … Well, this and that, I suppose. Reading, mostly. I’ve always had a penchant for it, and I’ve yet to make my way through the library. Um. Music, although it’s been quite some time since the gramophone worked. I took to baking for a time. I like to think I’d gotten rather good at it.”

“Wait, so you did bake that bread? When I first got here?” Martin thought back on it, how crispy the crust was, the soft and tasty inner dough, how fresh it had been. Martin couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten fresh bread. “That’s seriously amazing.”

“It’s hardly a complex task. But … yes, thank you.” Martin wasn’t sure if it was the haze of the dust, but Jon’s face looked a bit darker, a bit flushed. But then, the good humor in Jon’s eyes fell away. “And then there was the garden, of course. It was … well. A disaster, to put it mildly.”

“What happened?”

“Well, I killed everything, didn’t I?” Jon’s eyes dropped to his lap, shoulders sinking. “Not a single bulb flourished under my care. I … I eventually figured it was more merciful to give up than keep trying.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s not that bad.” Would be better to start with anything but roses, he wanted to suggest. You’re just setting yourself up to fail. But that would certainly come across as annoyingly patronising. “Maybe I can lend a hand?”

“Pardon?”

Wait. No. What business did Martin have making an offer like that? It wasn’t as if he knew any better about keeping things alive. But something about the resigned nature of Jon’s tone tore at him; his mouth had fallen open of its own accord. 

“I-I mean … Well, it might be fun, yeah?” Martin tried. “Personally, I’ve always wanted to learn how to garden.” 

“Is that so?”

Martin nodded, intending on leaving it there, but Jon was watching him, waiting. Oh.

“W-Well, uh, when I was a kid,” Martin said, face warming, “I’d always dreamed of having a, um, like a little cottage? That I owned? With a great big plot of land in the middle of a forest somewhere. Would get married, settle down, grow flowers and all kinds of food together. It’s … it’s a bit silly.”

“Not at all,” Jon said, eyes softening, and Martin’s heart fluttered something fierce. “I think that’s lovely.”

He smiled, hoping it didn’t come out as a grimace, because it had been a long, long time since he’d indulged in that particular fantasy. It just wasn’t feasible, these days, having a little cottage of his own or … or finding someone who’d want to marry him when he’s never even had a serious relationship before.

“Thank you, though, for your offer,” Jon said, cutting through Martin’s thoughts. “I’ll … be sure to consider it.”

The tight knot in Martin’s stomach unwound just a bit. “‘Course.”

By that point, the dust had become utterly unbearable, and they were forced to evacuate.

.

The brass of the door handle glimmered under the lamplight, rusted with age and disuse. How long had Martin been standing here, knees locked and shivering beneath the thick chill? Ages, by now. Griffiths was going to have his skin peeled for shirking his responsibilities like this, and the head butler would be perfectly within his rights.

But every time Martin tried to remind himself, that he still had so much work to do –

“… Hello?”

That voice. Still out there, somewhere behind the old door. Distant, but not beyond Martin’s reach. If Martin had already been here for ages, then that voice …

Wasn’t anyone coming for them?

If he opened the door, he could just take a quick look. Call out, see who needed help –

“And what do you think you’re doing, young man?”

Martin yanked his hand back, hand burnt on the molten brass.

“M-Mum?”

“I always knew you’d leave for good someday. I could see it in your eyes, you know. You couldn’t bear to take care of your poor, sick mother, and now you’re off to traipse about the countryside with some invert.”

“I didn’t leave.” Tight pressure strangled Martin’s throat, the back of his eyes burning. “I’d never do that. Where are you? I’m coming, I-I’ll find you–”

“And what, pray tell, would be the point of that?”

“Mum, please, just tell me where you are, I’m coming–”

“You’ve always been a wretched liar.”

.

Martin lurched upright, sucking painful gasps through his aching teeth, his sleep shirt sticking to his sweaty skin. No light permeated the windows— he may as well have been in a tomb, for all that he could see.

Jon was out there somewhere. Alone. As was his mother.

I’m coming back to you. I’ll find a way out of here. I’m doing everything I can– 

Liar.

Martin curled up onto his side, wrapping trembling arms around himself. Even though there was no one else to hear him, no one to stifle himself for, he drove his teeth into his lip until his mouth filled with the dull taste of copper.

Check out the Monster of Magnus Manor here!

#the magnus archives #tma #jonmartin #fanfiction #fic #[air horn noises] #yes chapter 4 will now be officially two chapters #their love just could not be contained #momm

[tres-spades-hotel]

Day 1 - Game.

Twists & Turns

For years she has been by my side. For years we fought together to keep everything we knew and held dear. My family has been restored and we’re on the verge of expecting a new addition to the Ichinomiya family. One month pregnant Vivian has been excitingly anticipating our anniversary this year and I am not one to disappoint. I just hope the others don’t ruin it.

‘Where are we going Eisuke? And why did you blindfold me?’

I stifle a chuckle as I keep my eyes on the road instead of my adorable wife.

‘Don’t worry, we’re almost there.’

‘But where is there Eisuke?’ Vivian whines. Her face is lightly tinged with pink ever since I had blindfolded her back at the penthouse.

‘Eisuke what are you doing?’ she asked as I turned her around in our bedroom. I smooth out a black blindfold in my hands.

‘Close your eyes.’ Whether or not she obeyed me is of no concern to me as I cover her eyes with the blindfold.

‘Um, Eisuke?’

‘What?’

‘W-why did you blindfold me?!’ I feel myself smirk at the sight and hug her gently from behind.

‘You are not allowed to see the surprise. I’ll tell you when to take it off.’

‘Are we there yet?’ Vivian asked.

‘Yes.’

I park the car and help Vivian out of the car. I lead her to the entrance where Eiji, Akira and Yukari stand smiling. Everybody else is in position and now for the game to begin. I nod to Eiji and head to the exit of the maze.

*

‘What is going on?’ I ask, blindly waving my arms around trying to feel for any object.

‘Happy Anniversary Vivian!’ I hear a chorus of voices shout out.

Somebody finally takes off the blindfold. I rub my eyes and look around.

‘Huh? Yukari? Akira? Eiji? What are you all doing here? Where am I? And where’s Eisuke?’ I say, quickly giving them tight hugs.

‘And thank you!’ I smile at them.

‘Welcome Mrs Vivian Eisuke Ichinomiya to the Maze of Love!’ Akira says, bowing theatrically.

‘Akira.’ Eiji chuckles at Akira.

‘Sorry. I mean, the Maze of True Love.’ Akira laughs. Yukari turns me to face her.

’You have to go through the maze and find brother. His friends are in the maze too and will give you questions which you need to answer.’

‘If you successfully answer the questions, then you will get a special present. There are 4 presents in the maze and then race to the exist to see your anniversary surprise!’ Eiji enthusiastically explains.

‘Here take this.’ Akira hands me a phone.

‘There is one contact in this phone. You are only allowed to call this number once.’

‘Who is it?’

‘You’ll find out. Only use it when you are stuck.’

‘Use your pager to speak to brother’s friends if you get lonely. Have fun!’ Yukari says before pushing me into the large, green maze.

*

I've been wandering the maze for a while but I haven't seen anyone yet. Yukari said that I can use the pager to communicate with the bidders but as soon as I turned it on, they quickly became irritating so I turned it off. I placed it inside my pocket and continued to wander for a while.

I’ve been following my gut this whole time but I still feel pretty lost. I stop, take the pager out and turn it on.

‘Vivian?’ I hear Baba's surprised voice.

‘Finally! I can't believe you turned us off.’ Ota says.

‘You two were… breaking my concentration.’ Is all I say before I hear more voices -well more like laughter.

‘Pfft, she's right.’

‘Kishi!’ I yell and he shouts.

‘Ah! What?’

‘I'm here too.’

‘Soryu! If I had known you guys were on as well I wouldn't have turned the pager off.’ I say, pouting to no one but myself.

‘What?! Aren't we important Vivian?’

‘Not when you're distracting me,’ I say. My feet have led me another dead end but then I hear a scream close by.

‘Mamo?! Are you okay?’

‘Of course the lazy smoker is in trouble.’ I hear Soryu say. I sprint in the direction of the shout and hear Mamoru scream out in irritation.

‘Lazy smoker?! I'll show you a lazy smoker!’ I turn right to see him stamping on a piece of cloth.

‘What happened?!’ I ask as I run over to him.

‘Geez, you found me quick, kid.’

‘She found Mamo already?!’

‘Sor, you better be hidden well.’

‘I thought the whole point of this was to help Vivian.’

‘Yeah, it is.’ I continue to look at Mamoru and he finally lets out the truth.

‘Ah, my cigarette caught fire on my handkerchief. I was just putting it out before the flames could spread.’ He says, scratching his head.

‘Well, at least you're not hurt,’ I say after I sigh exasperatingly.

‘Course not. I'm a detective. I wouldn't let a small fire kill me so don't worry about me kid.’ He said.

‘She's not worried about you. Vivian's just nice at heart.’ Soryu said.

‘Shut up!’

‘Aren’t you meant to give me a question?’ I ask. 

‘Oh yeah. Here.’ Mamoru hands me a card and I flip it over.

What statue did you break when you entered my life?

I recognise Eisuke’s handwriting immediately. A statue?

‘Oh! The Glass Statue of Venus!’

‘You got it right kid, here.’ Mamoru hands me a little bag. I put my hand in to find a ring with an amethyst gem in the middle.

‘Oh wow! It’s beautiful!’

‘Probably worth millions so keep it safe. And don’t lose it in this maze!’ Mamoru tussles my hair.

‘Hey! Not the hair! I spent hours on this.’ I pout, smoothing the hair strands down.

‘Well that’s one question kid. Time to move on.’

*

I didn’t even know it but the moment I turn a corner a few minutes later, I bump into Ota.

‘Ota! Why are you running?!’

‘Ah, sorry Koro! I was flipping my paint brush and it flew past you.’

‘It did?’ Sure enough, I look behind me and see a long brush on the ground.

‘Ota, did you hurt Vivian?’ Soryu’s voice comes out through the pager.

‘No! She’s fine! She didn’t even hit the ground!’ He says defensively.

‘Anyway, here’s your question.’ Ota walks back to his spot on the ground and hands me another card with a spade symbol on it.

When was the first time you were introduced as mine to the public?

To the public? Hmmmm….

‘Was it Akria’s birthday celebration?’ I ask.

‘Yeah! You got it Koro!’

‘Oh yay! I nearly forgot about that day. It was insane, all the press taking photos of me.’

‘Trying to more likely. Eisuke had your face blurred out until his announcing of his engagement with you.’ I hear Baba’s voice say.

‘Yep. Here’s your present.’ I take the small bag from Ota’s hands.

‘Did you make it?’ I ask.

‘Nope. Eisuke bought it but I didn’t make it.’ He says, sitting crossed-legged on the ground.

My hand plunges into the bag and pulls out a little glass figurine of a dolphin. A small note is attached to it. Remember the dolphin watching us outside the submarine?

‘Oh, this is beautiful! I remember when this happened too! The dolphin gave me such a fright.’ I say, turning it over and feeling its smooth surfaces.

‘What kind of stuff did you do with Eisuke Vivian, huh?’ Baba asks.

‘Shut up Baba, nobody cares about your fetishes.’ Ota says into the pager.

‘Hey! They’re not fetishes! It’s called curiosity!’

‘That’s even worse!’ Mamoru’s voice calls out.

*

Only Baba and Soryu left. I wander around for a little before finding a little area in the corner of the maze.

‘Baba? Is that you?’ A figure in red turns around and gets on his knee.

‘Far maiden, are you lost? Shall I bring you back to the light?’ Baba holds out his hand, expecting me to take it.

‘Stop with your antics Baba. Just give her the question.’ Soryu says. Baba frowns, pretending to wipe tears from his face.

‘Oh come on! Can’t I have this one thing?’

‘No.’ Everybody’s voices ring out loudly.

‘Sorry Baba. Let’s see the question!’ I say enthusiastically, attempting to lift his spirits.

‘Alright, here you go!’

What did you lose that I walked into a fountain for?

‘My engagement ring! It got loose because I lost weight and fell into the fountain and Eisuke got it for me.’ I would never be able to lose that memory because it was so unusual of him to do something like that.

‘Yeah, we we’re all pretty shocked to hear Eisuke do that for you right out in public like that.’ Baba says.

‘You guys teased him for weeks after.’

‘Obviously. He kept leaving the room whenever we mentioned it. But it was hilarious blackmail material!’ Ota laughs. Suddenly, Baba hands me a little box.

‘Your just reward, my fair-‘

‘Shut up!’ Their voices echo out and we burst out laughing. Inside the box is a small keyring photo of Eisuke sleeping.

‘OH! This is so cute! Where did you get this photo?!’

‘Don’t tell Boss this, but I took it when you were away for a family event. Eisuke was so miserable without you that I needed evidence of it.’

‘Eisuke’s seen the photo and made me delete it, but Ota and I kept a copy to give to you.’ He pats my head and I give him a smile.

‘Thank you! I’ll treasure this forever!’

*

Just one more to go now. Soryu has to be here somewhere. I’ve travelled quite far into the maze now. Every wall seems to look the same but I feel like I’m making progress.

‘Soryu, do you want to just tell me where you are to avoid all this wandering around?’ I ask.

‘No.’ A short and crisp answer, which is basically what I expected from him.

‘Oh come on Sor! Give her a hint!’ Baba protests. I hear Soryu sigh on the other end of the pager.

‘I’m in the middle.’ He says.

‘… I don’t kn- Oh hey! I found you.’ I say. Soryu is sitting at a desk with Inui and Samejima.

‘Hello Miss Vivian!’ Inui says, waving at me adorably. Samejijma gives me a nod and a shy smile.

‘I didn’t know you two where going to be here as well.’

‘They both followed me in here. Inui got lost in the maze when we were setting this up for you.’ Soryu rubs the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed for his subordinates.

‘Haha, that’s okay. The more the merrier! So, question time.’ I say.

‘Here it is!’ Inui hands me a white card and I flip it over.

How did I make you mine the first time?

‘What does that mean? The first time? What is he referring to?’ I ask myself.

‘First time might mean before you both got together.’ Samejima suggests.

‘Hmmm….’ When I realised that I loved Eisuke, he pushed me away to protect me. At that time, Takahiro confessed his love for me. And that’s when…

‘OH! Eisuke came running from the hotel to the boardwalk where I was that night! He confessed that he wanted me and would give me all the happiness in the world.’ I say and the two young mobsters look at me like goldfish.

‘Woah! Mr Ichinomiya is a romantic!’

‘Boss sure is.’ Baba laughs from the pager.

‘Eisuke wouldn’t admit it though, even when Vivian told us!’ Ota says.

‘Anyway, here’s your last reward. Now you have to make your way to the exist.’ Soryu says, handing me a small bag. I pull out a hair clip with a red bow which has a diamond in the middle.

‘Awww, this is so cute!’ I clip the bow into my hair.

‘It looks wonderful!’

‘Thank you, Inui.’

‘Well, better get going or you’ll miss your surprise.’

*

I’ve been walking around the maze for nearly an hour now. It’s been ages since I left Soryu and haven’t seen anyone else. I feel like I’m on a hike rather than in a maze!

What did Soryu mean by surprise?

Finally at my limit, I sit down on the ground. I wasn’t given a map or any directions. All the hedges look the same green and the ground is just… well, the ground. I can’t see over the walls and I can’t do anything about the dull ache in my feet.

‘Eisuke… what should I d- OH! The phone!’ I take out the phone that has the one contact number in. And I have a feeling I know who it is.

‘What?’

‘Eisuke!’ I shout out and jump to my feet.

‘Help me! I don’t know where I am or where to go!’ I nearly burst out in tears at my predicament. I hear Eisuke sigh on the other end of the call.

‘Calm down. I know where you are. Follow my instructions.’

‘Okay.’ I pick up my things and head off.

‘Turn left. Then right. And keep going to the end, don’t stop. Vivian! I just said don’t stop!’ Eisuke’s voice echoes across as the maze as I put him on speaker.

‘Sorry! I was adjusting my shoes! I think I stepped on a pebble.’

‘Be careful.’

‘I will. I am! I’m always careful Eisuke.’ I hear him chuckle.

‘Oh really? You nearly tripped just walking up the stairs a few days ago.’

‘I was… distracted… by… the others.’

‘I’ve never heard you blame them for your disasters.’ I can just hear the smirk behind the phone.

‘Haha, very funny. Now where should I- oh, what’s this?’

When I turn the corner, I see photos lining the wall. A lot of them are of me. Some from when we first met. Look, that one is when Eisuke and I went to the IVC for the first time together! That one is a few weeks after Eisuke first told me he loved me. The images don’t just contain me and Eisuke either. The auction managers are there as well. Baba, Ota and I posing after a Marvel movie binge watching night. Soryu, Eisuke and I are posing in this one after Soryu got new territory in Brazil. There’s even one with Mamoru after Baba and Ota pranked him by putting shaving foam in his hand then tickling his face with a feather. A classic that was.

I’ve already fallen in love again. All of these photos are attached by a red thread and a note.

Take this and come back to me.

I smile at the handwriting and taking hold of one end of the thread, I continue my journey to the man whom I love most in this world.

Finding the entrance, I see a large green arch made of English roses and smile at the memories they give me. As I step through the arch…

‘HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!!!!!’

An explosion of flower petals rain down as I hear the happy shouts of everyone. All the auction managers, Akira, Eiji, Yukari and her daughter cheer and clap. In the centre is Eisuke holding the end of the red thread and a present. I run to him, nearly drained to tears and hold him tight.

‘I missed you.’ I say into his clothes, his scent calming me down from my adventure in the maze.

‘I have a GPS on your pager, you know that. Did you really think I would allow you to get lost in a maze while carrying my child?’ I laugh and look up, resting my chin on his chest.

‘No, of course not. Thank you Eisuke! This was an amazing anniversary present.’

‘Pfft, it’s only getting started.’ He gives me the small box and picks me up bridal style.

‘Eisuke!’

‘Have fun Vivian!’

‘Be careful not to hurt the baby!’

‘Damn I’m tired.’

‘You nearly set the maze on fire.’

‘Shut up. I did not!’

The voices of the others drift away as Eisuke takes me into the mansion behind the maze.

*

‘So you own this place?’

‘No. You own this place. The maze is the garden with English roses growing around it. I had them planted a few months ago.’

I’m touched by Eisuke’s thinking. Getting this place for our anniversary even though it was still a long time into the future makes my heart race at his thoughtfulness.

‘Thank you Eisuke. I’m not sure what I will do with this place but thank you! I love it! And the maze was so fun! I loved all the little presents. I’m sure you picked them all out?’ I ask as he sets me down onto the luxurious bed.

‘Of course. Everything was my plan and I’m surprised that it was uneventful. Although you did worry me when you stopped moving on the tracker.’ He says with a frown.

‘Yeah, I got tired. And lonely. And upset cause I didn’t have you with me.’ He sighs and leans over to pinch my cheeks.

‘Owww! Efuke!’

‘Always think only of me. You know I would never let you get lost in a simple place like a maze.’ He lets go of my cheeks and strokes them to soothe the skin.

‘I know hon. By the way, what’s this?’ I lift up the small box still in my hands.

‘You’re second-to-last present for the day.’ He promptly says. I pull the ribbon from the bow and watch the wrapping unfold. A sleek black box unveils itself upon lifting the lid. When I open it, I see a pretty English rose pendant.

‘Eisuke! An English rose!’ I excitingly point out.

‘Pfft, I can see that. Here.’ He leans over and pulls the pendant out, revealing a long rose gold chain attached.

‘Oh it’s a necklace! How beautiful!’

‘Turn around.’ I do as he says and feel the pendant rest against my chest.

‘Eisuke!’ I hug him with all my might.

‘You do love this flower. But that’s not all.’ I bring my head out of the crook of his neck and narrow my eyes.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Look.’ He takes the pendant and opens it up to reveal a picture of us from our wedding.

‘Oh, this is amazing! Thank you!’

‘Hm.’ He takes a strand of my hair and pushes it behind my ear lovingly.

‘Did Ota make it?’

‘…. Maybe….’

‘Haha, I know you love them really.’

‘Not as much as you. Happy anniversary Vivian.’ His kiss fills me with warmth and happiness. I pull away slightly with our noses touching.

‘You said second-to-last present. What’s the last present?’ He gives me a knowing look. Suddenly, Eisuke lowers me onto the bed and climbs above me.

‘You and I both know what your last present is. I’ll give you all of my love, all night long.’ Gazing at his mesmerising profile, I wrap my arms around his neck and lean his forehead against mine.

‘Happy anniversary Eisuke. I love you, so much. And you know what? I think I just figured out a use for this place.’

‘And that is?’

‘Our baby can play in the garden when he’s born.’

‘I’ll put a tracker on him so he doesn’t get lost like you did.’

‘Eisuke!’

His chuckles ring out in the bedroom and we enjoy a blissful night for our anniversary, awaiting the arrival of our child.

#eisuke ichinomiya #kissed by the baddest bidder eisuke #kissed by the baddest #kbtbbweek #kbtbbweek2020

[echoes-of-the-clockwork]

Book Three: Pestilence (Ignis x Reader) Chapter Twenty-Five

A/n: This part gets a little gory near the end. It's for a short bit, but I just wanna warn everyone in case someone's grossed out by blood. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Love you all!!! •••••••••••••••••••••

Noctis, Gladio, and Ignis didn't make it far into the city before being separated by the wrecked train. The raven-haired boy was forced to trek the innards of Zegnautus Keep by himself while his advisor and shield did the same. Minutes turned into hours as they searched the large stronghold for the Crystal, Prompto, (Y/n), and each other.

Ardyn had taken it upon himself to taunt Noctis as the boy meandered through the halls and rooms of Zegnautus Keep. He tried to ignore the chancellor as he continued his search. At one point, the man teased him by creating images of Prompto. Noctis would chase after his best friend, but in the end, he was always greeted with a mangled body of a magitek. He growled under his breath before setting out and ignoring any other spectral images of the blonde.

While in the deepest parts of Zegnautus Keep after falling down the central shaft from the upper-level catwalk, Noctis discovered the bodies of imperial troopers. Among the corpses, he found Ravus' own lifeless body and his father's sword. Claiming the weapon, Noctis no longer needed to rely heavily on the Ring of the Lucii.

After more hours of traversing through the stronghold, Noctis was able to regroup with Gladio and Ignis. Now that they were all together, searching the Keep proved to be easier.

Eventually, they arrived in the cell block of Zegnautus Keep. There, they found Prompto and freed him from the device restraining him. The blonde falls to the floor once liberated and Noctis bends down to help him.

"Hey, you alright?" Gladio asked once seeing the bruises and scratches across the younger boy's body.

"Are you hurt? Do you need help?" Ignis questioned as he also noticed how battered his friend was.

"I'm fine. Thank you, Noct." Prompto fights through the pain and manages to sit upright. He stared at his best friend with an unwavering gaze. "Tell me. Were you worried about me?"

Noctis was taken aback at the question but didn't hesitate to respond. "Of course I was. What kind of question is that?"

"Of course. That's why you came, like I believed you would," the blonde said.

"Prompto..."

"That's why I told myself I couldn't die. Not until I could see you and hear you tell me I'm not a fake-that I'm the real me."

The raven-haired boy looked away with a guilt-stricken expression. "I'm sorry."

Prompto shook his head. "Don't be. Everything's alright now."

"If you four are done, we better get moving," a feminine voice said.

The boys turned their heads and saw War standing outside the cell with her arms crossed.

Gladio couldn't help but snicker at her appearance, memories of her helping him in Altissia flashing through his mind. "When did you get here, Firecracker?"

The redhead glared at the brute. "Don't call me that." She uncrossed her arms a placed a hand on her hip. "I'm here for my sister. That's it."

"(Y/n) is our next priority," Ignis stated.

Prompto pushes himself off the floor alongside Noctis. "I know where they're keeping her."

"Good," War sighed. She then looked toward Noctis. "Before we search for Pestilence, returning your power should be our next focus. Let's make this quick so we can find my sister."

Noctis, Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis followed War out of the cell block and in a different direction then they trekked before. The boys were relieved the Horseman was with them for her presence alone was enough to keep them safe from daemons with their lack of weapons at the moment. As the group makes their way back toward the central area of Zegnautus Keep, War and Ignis suddenly froze.

The girl turned around and faced the others. "What a strange sound."

"Indeed," Ignis agreed before glancing toward the raven-haired boy walking beside him. "Noct, do you hear that?"

Noctis glances between War and his advisor. "Hear what?"

"I've heard this sound before-on the train, just before your weapons failed you. It's nearby, and it may hold the key to restoring your power," Ignis answered.

War's cerulean eyes scanned the area around them. She used her ears to tune into the low humming and walked forward. When she realized the noise crescendoed, she gestured for the boys to follow her. "This way."

The boys and Horseman make their way across the catwalk leading to the central area of the current level they were on of the Keep. They came across a room, which was sealed by mechanical doors.

Ignis' eyes narrowed slightly as he listened closely to the noise. He knew for certain it was coming from the other side of the door. "It's here."

Noctis stops in front of the closed metal doors in the center of the enormous room. "This thing?" He places his hand against one of the doors and tried to open it. However, it didn't budge. "Door's locked."

"It's coming from within. Is there no way through?" The strategist questioned, using his good eye to search for a way in.

"There's a way," Prompto sorrowfully said. The others watch him closely as he hesitantly steps up to the door's scanner and raises the back of his right wrist to it. When the doors slide open, the blonde resumes speaking, staring off into the room. He found himself unable to make eye contact with the others. "So, MTs... They've got those codeprints...just like I do."

"Do they? Never looked," Noctis replied, unfazed by his best friend's words.

"Yeah... So, as it turns out...I'm one of them. Not exactly something I could tell people growing up in Lucis," the marksman confessed, his voice lower than usual. Tears threaten to fall, but he manages to keep them at bay. "Still... You guys are like...the only friends I've ever known. I just hope that things can stay the way they were."

"Whatever. Who cares where you were born?" Noctis responded.

"I don't see you turning against us. Not now, or ever," Ignis stated.

Prompto looked around at his friends. "Thanks, guys. Still...I can't change where I came from. What I am."

"Since when does where you come from matter to you? You never once treated me as a prince," the raven-haired boy said, playfully punching the blonde's shoulder.

"He's got you there," Gladio commented.

"Never so much as a "Highness"," Ignis added.

"We're done here," Noctis said. "C'mon, crown citizen."

War, who remained silent during the exchange, walked inside the room. Gladio steps over to Prompto and gives his shoulder a friendly smack as he follows the redhead. "You're one of us, right?"

Ignis stops and turns back toward Prompto, looking over his shoulder. "Unless you'd rather not be."

Prompto smiles, nods, and follows them.

Inside the room, they find abandoned clothing laying upon the throne and a large bank of computers. War stepped forward, warning the others to back away. Once they put enough distance between her and them, she waved her hand and six lances materialized behind her, each one different in design. She raised her hand and with a simple tilt of her finger, the lances flipped position and their sharp blades were now pointed at the computers. With a swift slicing motion of her hand, the six lances flew forward and plunged into the machinery. The computers sparked before a small explosion erupted from inside. The lances disappeared as the lights of the computers blipped out.

"There," War sighed. "It's done."

"Think you could teach me that?" Noctis asked, awed at the girl's power.

She smirked at him. "You don't want me as a teacher."

"If I can handle Gladio's teachings, I know I can handle yours," Noctis confidently responded.

The Horseman walked past the boy, not sparing him a glance as her smirk vanished. "Trust me, you'll experience hell with me." She exited the room, turning around the face the group when noticing they weren't following her. "Hurry up and make sure your power's back, Noctis. We still have to find Pestilence and I don't wanna dawdle any longer."

"Alright." Noctis held out his hand and inhaled deeply. "Moment of truth." He stares down at his empty hand and summons a sword. When it appears in his hand, he exhaled.

Prompto claps in celebration at the revelation. A smirk appeared on Gladio's face when seeing Noctis' power was restored. "We're back, baby."

Noctis nodded. "Let's roll."

"Hey, blondie," War called out to Prompto, who met eyes with her. "You said you know where they're keeping her, right?"

"Uh, y-yeah," the sharpshooter replied nervously, shaken by her intimidating gaze.

She gestured to the way they came from. "Lead the way."

<----------<<<<<

Another hour passes by the time they reached the lab Pestilence was being held. They stood outside, wondering how to get inside. There was no scanner or a keycard slot.

"How the hell're we supposed to get inside?" Gladio hissed.

War approached the door and tried using several weapons from her arsenal and her own magic, but she only left scratches and burn marks on the metal. She let out a frustrated cry before dispelling her weapons. "How annoying..."

"Noct," Ignis spoke up. "You still possess (Y/n)'s staff, correct?"

"Yeah. Why?" Said boy asked.

"You mentioned how your own magic was enhanced with the staff. It is possible there is still some residual mana left from (Y/n)'s usage. One spell may be the key to getting through."

The redhead spun around and faced Noctis. "Pestilence's magic is the most powerful out of all the Four Horsemen's. If there really is a small amount of her own mana left in the staff, it'll definitely blow a hole in this door."

"Guess it's worth a try." Noctis held out his hand and conjured (Y/n)'s staff. He could feel the small amount of mana remaining in the staff and decided to use it. "Here goes nothing." Using his own fire spell, he was able to create a bright, burning flame that melted the metal door. Now there was a hole big enough for them to pass through. He ridded himself of the staff and led the group into the lab.

Inside, they found (Y/n) floating inside a glass tube with wires protruding from her back. Her (e/c) eyes were dull and lifeless, which made War grit her teeth. "Dammit..." She rushes over the console in front of the tube. Her eyes scanned over the myriads of buttons and switches. She wondered how to free her sister as the others gathered around. "Any idea here, blondie?" She asked, looking toward Prompto.

"I only saw him press one button." The gunman searched the console and found the button. "It was this one." He pressed it and they heard a small alarm trigger.

Everyone looked around and saw a red light above the tube flashing as the water inside slowly drained. Once the water was all gone, Pestilence's body hung from the wires like a lifeless marionette waiting for someone to pull the strings.

War pressed a few random buttons, which many were duds. Fortunately, one of them opened the tube. A few droplets of water rained down on the console. "Now for the wires." Pressing another random selection of buttons, she managed to locate the one that dislodged the wires from her back, revealing the sharp needles attached at the ends.

With the wires now gone, (Y/n)'s body toppled out of the tube. Ignis was the first to react and lunged forward, catching her body in his arms before she could collide with the floor. While one eye was fully recovered and the other still blurry, he could distinctly see something on her chest. His attention was diverted to her back when he felt a warm substance soaking through his gloves.

The crimson-haired girl dashed over and kneeled beside Pestilence. She examined her body, asking Ignis to turn her over. When seeing her back and ripped open flesh from the wires, she frowned. "Why isn't she healing?" She took (Y/n)'s body out of Ignis' grasp and laid her down on the floor. She saw something on her sister's chest and grimaced. Pulling her clothes away from her chest, her eyes widen in horror. She spotted a circular object protruding from her chest, black veins sprouting from it and creeping across Pestilence's body. It pulsated like a heart as an eerie black substance oozed from it.

"Wh-What is that?" Prompto asked.

"I have a feeling this is the "dark entity" King Aeshema spoke of." War summoned a dagger, placing the sharp tip a few inches above the anomaly.

Before War could plunge the blade into (Y/n)'s body, Ignis grabbed her wrist and stopped her. "What do you aim to accomplish?" His tone was stern and hinted with a slight tinge of anger from the girl's rash decision.

She yanked her wrist out of his grasp, glaring at him. "Cutting this thing out of her. You've any other ideas at the moment?"

Ignis remained silent as he met the Horseman's furious gaze. He lowered his hand with an exhale, looking down at his beloved.

"It's worth a try, right?" Gladio asked.

"I know how much you care for Pestilence, Ignis," War groaned. "But remember who she is. Once I cut this entity out of her, she'll no longer have to fear Ardyn taking control of her body and using her against you."

The strategist was silent for a few more seconds before nodding. "All right."

After receiving his permission, War didn't hesitate to plunge the dagger into (Y/n)'s chest. Noctis and Prompto immediately looked away when the girl forcefully peeled back the skin to view the inside of her sister's body. Seeing the black veins wrapped around her heart, she scowled. "Sorry, sis." Using her dagger, she sliced through the sable veins and yanked the entity out of her body. It shrieked in pain as the veins wiggled wildly.

War quickly set it ablaze, turning it into a pile of ashes. With her bloodied hands, she reassembled her sister. Holding her breath, she waited for the skin to mend. "C'mon, c'mon..." Minutes ticked by and no one spoke. When (Y/n)'s body began to mend, the redhead sighed in relief. "Thank the Six..."

Ignis reached out toward Pestilence and pulled her body into his arms, checking her back. Feeling her wounds had mended, the tenseness in his muscles vanished.

"Is she...?" Prompto asked, his voice trailing off.

"She'll be fine." War stood up, ridding herself of the bloodied dagger. "For now, let's find a dormitory. You all look exhausted."

"Worried about us, Firecracker?" Gladio questioned with a grin.

She jabbed a finger at him. "Stop calling me that, dammit!"

Prompto saw Ignis was about to pick up (Y/n)'s body and offered to carry her in his stead. The advisor shook his head as he scooped up the girl's body in his arms. "While my eyesight still remains in shambles, my strength isn't."

The blonde respected his decision and backed away. Noctis stepped toward the hole he created in the door. "I could use a break."

"We passed a dormitory not long ago," War said. "Head back the way we came and you'll find it."

"Where're you going?" The raven-haired boy inquired.

"To meet up with Death and Famine. They'll want to know how Pestilence is doing." She turned her back to them, waving at them over her shoulder. "See ya." With that, she vanished.

#ffxv x reader #ffxv #final fantasy xv x reader #final fantasy xv #ignis x reader #ignis scientia #prompto argentum #gladiolus amicitia #Noctis Lucis Caelum

[isafalco]

Getting Back Into Nico’s Good Graces

Featuring: @silasbriar, @thomaswieland, @presleystone, @isafalco​

Location: The Barn

Summary: Silas convinces Thomas to force Blair to torture Isa and Presley to test his and her loyalty and possibly impress Nico with some sadistic tendencies. 

Warnings: Gratuitous violence, torture.

Silas:

It takes a little artistry to get it all set up, but nothing even remotely outside of his abilities. The chains in the barn are prepped and there are two vials of wolfsbane in Silas’ pocket as he stalks his first target. The manor is abuzz with one panic or another, a wolf recovering from her near-death encounter, or a human seriously injured for reasons unbeknownst to him. They’re distracted, and not looking to the shadows where Silas lurks. 

He spots the first one, the former Beta (the bonded one) and is grappling her from behind before she could make a sound. He plunges a syringe full of wolfsbane into her neck until he can feel her struggle losing its strength, then has them both out of the back door and into the barn in seconds. 

The second wolf he’s less graceful with. Isa gets a hand over her mouth, seemingly from nowhere, dragged backwards out of the manor, then tossed halfway across the lawn in a display of strength to set the tone of helplessness for the rest of her unfortunate evening. He’s at her side again before she can recover, and throws her, again and again, until she’s inside of the barn being chained up against the wall, directly opposite from where Presley droops in her own mess of chains– wrists and feet– and feeling the effects of the poison. 

 Silas rubs his hands together and sighs while he admires his work. “Thank you for joining us this evening. And now we wait for our guest of honor.”

Thomas:

Thomas does no explaining, already testing the limits of how obedient Blair plans to be tonight during their little show. The scene is already set by the time they enter, the two wolves chained and the smell of wolfsbane sharp and cloying. Blair must be able to smell it too. The role of tormentor is all too easy to fall into, and he finally turns to the wolf by his side. 

“Earn your place. These wolves practically attacked my dear brother and they need punishing. If you’re truly on our team, then there’s no going back to this wretched little pack anyway. Time to strike a match and burn the pieces of your old family to ash.” 

Thomas rummages around in his pocket, transferring a few items in slow movements into Blair’s hands. A dagger. A lighter. And another syringe of wolfsbane for good measure, destined for the wolf of her choice. “Restore the family name, pet. Get as creative as you’d like. I’ll stop you when I’m satisfied.”

Blair:

Blair doesn't know why exactly Thomas called her, though she has been enjoying the brief respite after her encounter with Nico. Not that it seemed to help, considering Riley almost got murdered because the head vampire wanted to throw a tantrum, but that is a problem for someone else that wasn't her. Thomas seems uncharacteristically silent as he leads her to the barn, and her steps falter briefly as the acrid bitterness of wolfsbane reaches her nose. She's had enough of the scent for the rest of her life. 

But none of that compares when she sees who is waiting for her. Silas, and Isa and Presley. She doesn't know what they did to anger Silas, whether they did anything at all. The lighter and dagger are pressed into her hands but Blair simply stares at the two wolves in front of her, a blank expression on her face.

Internally, she is scrambling. She has known this moment would come and yet she still feels entirely blindsided. Finally, she turns back to Thomas and Silas, hoping that her internal conflict is not written all over her face. 

"How is me torturing anyone fun for you? Okay, I get it, this is a loyalty test. So let me fight one of them. We've got dead leg Barbie over here and the dead Alpha's runaway sister, so it's hardly a fair fight to begin with, but at least it doesn't feel like kicking a puppy." 

She keeps her eyes trained on the vampires, back ramrod straight, knowing that if she turns around, she may lose her nerve. "If I win, then pretty sure that bridge gets burned anyways. If I lose, well then, better you know sooner rather than later."

Silas:

Silas rolls his eyes and with heavy, impatient steps in Blair’s direction, he gets a hand around the back of her neck and forcibly walks her towards Isa. “You were given an order, pet, and a purpose. We’re not interested in standing here and watching you negotiate your way around this like someone who may be a tad bit still on the fence about where her loyalties lie. Which brings us right back to–” He pushes, hard, when they reach the chained wolf, then takes a few steps backwards with his palms toward the ceiling like a showman. “–Get creative! Cut your old, beloved Alpha’s memory from your life and you’ll have won the beginnings of an official welcome to the family. This isn't fun, love, it's principal. It's symbolic. It's loyalty, earned." When he finds his way back to Thomas' side, he places a hand on his shoulder and flashes a toothy grin. "The fun is just a bonus."

Isa:

She's never felt so helpless in battle before. A trained assassin who traded her life of camaraderie and family for something she probably will never come back from, and she had never been bested like this. Her body flies across the lawn like she's nothing but a rock skidding across the surface of a still body of water; Isa rolls, and then she's tossed again, and again, until she's inside the barn and chained against the wall with the same ones they use for the full moon. To her left, there's Presley, and the rotten smell of Wolfsbane that has her struggling against the chains like a wolf possessed, a growl sitting in her throat furiously. 

There's a second, when Blair appears before her and she's given a dagger, that she pulls on her chains so hard the wood cracks under the pressure, but they're enchanted, and keeping Isa so tightly in place she knows she won't get out of them. But anger boils in her chest, and when she finally settles against the chains, she blows her hair out of her face, looking at Blair through her eyelashes. She knows what's coming; Isa grips the chains harder, grips her teeth. Its not the first time she's been doused in wolfsbane, it probably won't be the last. 

"Do your worst, bitch". She spouts, laughing under her breath. "Loyalty means nothing to you anyway".

Blair:

Of course Silas is the one to respond, his inability to stay out of anything probably causing a good chunk of this. She doesn't bother masking the annoyance or the trepidation that she felt. Hiding would only make it seem like she has something worth investigating, and that would be worse. So if he gets an extra wave of disgust, that is all sincere on her end too. Her jaw twitches slightly, wanting to point out that she could "get creative" by doing exactly what she had asked, but she doesn't know what else these two have planned. If this is only the first part, she couldn't pull out her ace at the start of the game. Isa and Presley would be fine. They are both soldiers, and beyond that, both are survivors. Even after telling herself that, Blair doesn't feel any better. 

A cold expression sweeps across her face as she turns toward Isa. Presley is still in and out of it seemingly, with wolfsbane already running through her so Blair turns her focus back on the brunette. She steps into Isa's space, face to hers, and holds out the syringe to her. "All right hero, since you want to talk a tough game, I'll make you a deal. Either, you put this entire syringe of wolfsbane in yourself or I'll put it in Presley and we can see what her pain tolerance really is."(edited)

Isa:

Up close and even through the syringe, the wolfsbane reeks, and it makes Isa's nose flare. She bares her teeth, hands tightening around her chains and sweat running down her forehead. Of course she would take the wolfsbane, better her than Presley. The decision is easy, as her eyes flicker to her unconscious beside her. But its not just about Presley, or her, or this -- its about betrayal, and thinking about Blair making a mockery of her brother's legacy and Victoria's pack like this. 

They're too close, too close and personal and Isa's pissed. So pissed that all she does is tighten her jaw, draw her head back, and head-butt Blair on the nose as hard she possibly could while dangling from those chains. It makes her forehead throb, bruise, but it leaves her with a sadistic sense of satisfaction. Like killing hunters again... "I already said do your worst. What are you waiting for? Instructions?"

Presley:

It happens fast. Presley hears footsteps, goes to turn and before she can clue in to the smell of wolfsbane, she feels it. It's a low dose but mixed the right way, like a sedative. She fights for only a second before it passes and when she finds realy consciousness again, she's in the bar, chains holding her arms and legs, her head hung. The sound of something like a scuffle besides her clues her in just as Blair knocks backward. She sees who did it, eyes suddenly wide and on high alert as she pulls against the chains holding her back. "Isa? What's --" There are two vampires in front of them, and Presley knows the feeling of the weakness in her bones all too well. The very thought of that, and Isa beside her makes her heart race. She looks from Blair, to the vampires, the woman chained beside her. "Let her go. Let us both go. Blair you don't have to do this."

Thomas:

An involuntary snarl leaves his lips as he watches Isa wind up and headbutt Blair with jarring force, some misplaced protective instinct for this wolf he was supposed to be protecting surfacing. He finds a place for his fury to go. Presley stirs, pipes up, and he draws more attention to it, forcing Blair to acknowledge it. If he wants to earn Nico’s forgiveness, it needs to be a good show. Both wolves will have to come back bruised and shaken. Drifting close behind Blair, he runs fingertips lightly over the curve of her shoulder, full of taunting advice. “No pressure, pet. But I’m bored already.  Nice half-hearted attempt. Choices are always a good start, it’s a real lose-lose situation. But you know from experience wolves are suffering, simpering, stoic little martyrs. She’ll always choose to hurt herself first. These two are lovers. The pain isn’t in hurting them both. It’s in them having to watch the other get hurt. Why do you think they’re face to face?” 

He raises his voice to address the two wolves. “This is Blair’s little show, and she can steer the ship, but one note from me. Lock eyes for that romantic ambience, you two. If either of you choose to look away from your beloved, to look down from the pain on her face, to shut your eyes for a momentary respite….I break one of your girlfriend’s fingers. I guess that gives you ten chances to look away.”

Blair:

The burst of pain that explodes behind nose makes her eyes water, and she can immediately taste the blood from where her teeth split her lip. The growl she lets out in response isn't forced, and she bares bloody teeth at Isa before her eyes snap towards Presley who is now awake, with her idiotically earnest eyes. She is barely able to meet her gaze for a second before Thomas commands attention once more, his hands ghosting along her skin. For a split second, she has the urge to shove the dagger into his throat, but she stamps that down. 

Blair knows that having two wolves out of commission, especially having these specific two wolves out of commission is dangerous to the pack. She has to make a decision, and it would be far easier to throw a punch at Isa than at Presley, not because the blonde was weak, but because knowing that the other wolf would spend the entire time trying to make everyone other than herself feel better. 

"If I'm supposed to be the creative one, you both are trying to take a whole lot of artistic license. And you suck at emotional torture. Sure, you can send them back all bruised and bloody, but they puff out their chests and tell each other how proud they are of each other for making it through. It doesn't last past tonight. Send one back pristine while the other ends up in a full-body cast? That's where you make the guilt roll in. Also, Presley's bonded. If you want to piss off Miss Aemilia, again I might add, go right ahead, but that probably would be the opposite of making your daddy happy. So I'll do whatever sick torture porn fantasy you have with Isa, make Presley watch, because that's going to hurt her way more than any bad leg ever would. Then when all this is over, she can torture herself for being perfectly unharmed while her girlfriend is nursing some broken ribs. Everyone happy with that?"

Isa:

In the most twisted of ways, Blair is right. This is a sure way to make them suffer. Making the other watch while one remains unharmed, but its relieving, all in the same, because she'll be the target of Blair's torture and Presley will come out unscathed. Its not the first time she's been tortured, something tells her it won't be the last. Whatever pain Blair puts her through she knows she'll be able to handle, regardless of how beaten, and bruised, and out of commission it will put her. 

She tilts her chin up, looks at Presley apologetically -- she doesn't know why, this isn't her fault, but she has the vague reminder that Presley had watched someone she loved be tortured before, in a way that was eerily similar to this one. Isa inhales sharply, lets the air fill her lungs like she's preparing herself for the inevitable. "What are you waiting for? You're wasting my time. If you're going to torture me get on with it. I'm bored".

Presley:

It takes only a second or her to get her bearings, to take in the situation, hear Thomas's voice again and understand fully what's going on. presley's heart hammers, her blood runs with wolfsbane -- no doubt so does Isa's now too. And as they continue, as she hears Blair's spiel and fights the hold on her chains, she's reminded of this moment -- of staring back into the eyes of someone that matters and not being able to do anything. Her stomach flips, the air leaves her lungs. And in that moment, exactly, it all makes sense. She and Blair had discussed Eden, discussed the torture Presley had faced while her girlfriend watched. Switching the target -- it's protective. It has to be. Which means that somewhere, somewhere in Blair there's a shred of who she really is underneath it. "Blair --" Presley tugs at the chains but her eyes stay on Isa, not at all willing to break the vampire's rules. "Blair you don't have to do this. We're a pack. We're your pack. I know you feel scared, and alone, and you don't want to lose things again but none of us -- we can help you. I'll do it with you. You don't have to hurt her, you don't have to prove anything to anyone."

Blair:

Blair is glad that for the twisted instruction that makes Isa and Presley look at each other instead of at her. Hearing them is hard enough, but to face either of their accusatory stares would make this near impossible. And Presley... listening to her plead with Blair is both exactly what she wants and the opposite of that. Hearing those worlds helps, knowing that maybe people haven't entirely given up on her yet, but at the same time, she needs everyone to give up on her for this plan to work. 

"Give it up, Superstar. We're not a pack. Even your girlfriend over there will tell you that. We're not going to kumbaya this away with your trusty guitar, so as Isa requested, let's get on with it." 

She tosses the dagger on the ground, not caring to give herself yet another edge during this farce of a test. If they won't let Isa out to create a fair fight, then she could do at least this much. Without warning, her fist strikes out and catches Isa on the bridge of her nose, and Blair takes advantage of the surprise to stab the syringe of wolfsbane into her neck. She steps away briefly as the poison works its way through Isa's body, and Blair takes a moment to steady herself. There is no more need to gloat or talk, just a singleminded focus on getting through this intact. And with that, she wastes no time on raining blows down on Isa.September 7, 2020

Isa:

It comes fast and it comes hard, a right hook to the nose that immediately makes her bleed, blood rushing down her mouth. She doesn't wince, she only takes it, but she knows its broken and she'll have to set it back in place by the time this was all over. But what comes next is even more painful: wolfsbane. She's always described the feeling as being shot up with embers, the type that sizzle and make her entire body burn like she's been set on fire. What comes out of her mouth is a whimper, like a dog defeated; her muscles go weak and she looses her grip on the chains keeping her steady until she can't hold her neck up any longer, and she falls limp against her chains. 

She's been beat up before, multiple times, with and without wolfsbane, but with the wolfsbane coursing through her veins, she can't tense her muscles to make the blows hurt less. There's blood on her neck from her cracked nose and bruises surely forming under her shirt, Blair's punches making her rock against the chains like a punching bag, all the while keeping her half open eyes on Presley as she watches Blair beat the crap out of her. 

Isa coughs, with a second to breathe, and spits blood on the floor that she wishes she could wipe with the back of her hand. She opens her mouth as if to say something, but air gets caught in her throat at the pain on her sides. All she can do is grit her bloody teeth together again.

Blair:

She channels all of her rage and hurt into her attack on Isa. Blair tries to forget the way she can feel bones cracking under her knuckles, hoping that maybe some of those crunches are her own hands giving way. A small price to pay in exchange for this. She doesn't bother to check whether they're still looking at each other and she figures that one of the vampires will have something to say if they don't. 

By the time she pauses, there is a thick scent of blood filling the barn, almost enough to mask the wolfsbane. Blair blinks, staring at a very battered and bruised wolf, and she almost loses her nerve in that moment. Loyalty means nothing to you anyway. Isa's words bounce and rattle around in her head, along with Presley's pleas for her to do the right thing. It's too much and enough is enough. Maybe if she can end this now, she would have enough time to pass a message to Ellery before even more damage was caused. 

She steps away from Isa and turns to look at Presley for a long moment, wondering if the wolf finally hates her now as she should. Then she glances at Silas and Thomas, a disinterested expression flitting across her face. "Okay, so we good here? Let them limp back, I'm sure the wolves will cry about it some more, and you get to have all the angry threats you can twist into something else that's fucked. Did I pass? Again?"

Presley:

She wants to look at Blair, wants to look her in the eyes and see what's there, figure out what's causing all of this. Because Presley can't fathom that it's betrayal. It doesn't make sense, as Blair calls Aemilia Miss Aemilia, and forgoes the tools for her fists. She can't fathom that the same Blair who sympathized with her brother and their pack and everything they'd gone through would turn and betray them all -- betray Derrick -- now. I must be something else. She repeats the broken sound of Blair's words when they fought in her head, and knows if nothing else, that there's a person under all of this pain that wants something. Like Elias, like Ronan, like the people who they'd all met who had done awful things for reasons people couldn't understand -- but reasons all the same. 

But her focus on what Blair might need goes out the door fast when she starts wailing on Isa anyway. At first, Presley flinches, a few times, jaw steeled as much as she can against the wolfsbane in her own system. BUt as she continues, panic hits. "Blair, stop!" She finally blurts out, abrupt and pained and pushing past all her better judgement about giving them the satisfaction they want. There are tears in her eyes she'd barely felt, and her head feels foggy with memories and her rapidly beating heart. Her voice cracks when the beating stops and she tries to use it again but she doesn't look away from Isa's bloodied face. Not once. "Please stop...."

Thomas:

The dagger hits the ground and Thomas sighs, a quiet sound. Fists and fighting don’t seem out of the usual for the wolves, just more of the same pain, but the wolfsbane will bring a sharper, less familiar edge to it all. The barn smells of iron and the cracking of bones bounce back from the barn walls, and he by the time Blair stops it looks like the chains are the only thing keeping Isa’s slender body from crumpling the the ground. His eyes stray to Presley, treated to the novel sight of the stoic wolf streaked with tears and panicked. He doesn’t answer Blair's question. Silas is the supposedly affronted party and the one who wanted to watch the wolves bleed, the one who didn’t trust Blair, the one who might whisper to Nico that Thomas was still worth trusting. 

“Up to my elder, pet. I always respect the hierarchy.” 

Supernaturally fast, he flits to pick up the dropped and forgotten dagger and  is back in front of Blair in an instant, dragging the blade across his palm. If she’s so determined to leave Presley unmarred physically, he refuses to let her escape the same fate. No, he wants the scrapes across her knuckles to disappear and the fragile bones of them to mend. Let the other wolves picture darker weapons than her fists when they looked at her torn apart packmate. He presses the bleeding gash to cover her mouth, blocking Blair’s air until she’s forced to swallow. It’s the first time he’s forced her to do anything, a conscious choice since she first told him she didn’t have a choice in her original bond. Turning to exit the barn, he squeezes Silas’ shoulder on the way past but doesn’t make eye contact, giving him little chance to stop him from leaving. He doesn’t believe his brother will bicker about family drama in front of the wolves, not when it would sour the mood of the performance.

Isa:

She's barely holding herself together, once Blair stops railing on her with her fists, but barely makes a sound. Something akin to a shaky breath leaves her lips, and she doesn't know if what falls down her cheekbones is sweat, blood, or tears. Her wrists are limp against the chains as her head lulls forward, unable to hold herself upright for much longer; she thinks she sees Thomas heal Blair, but its a blur, even Presley looks foggy through her eyes. 

Its hard not to focus on her pain, but its everywhere, on her chest, on her ribs, on her abdomen. In a fair fight she might have the upper hand, but with the wolfsbane weakening her body its so incapacitating she can barely move, and when she finally decides to speak up, her words tremble, her lips shake, they come through a bloodied mouth and a hoarse voice. "When... all of this is over..." She spats and even though her eyes are on Presley, the threat is for Blair, and only Blair. "... I'm going... to slit your throat... and I'm going... to enjoy it. Remember that... Falcos... Keep their word".

Silas:

Silas lingers with his lips pursed. He’s not completely satisfied, what with all of the excessive talking and negotiating, the dropping the knife and the lighter when they were the sole, implied parameters, the lack of the creativity he had expected… but then again, these are wolves, and he’s not completely disappointed either. Isa is in rough shape, and the threat to Blair is the cherry on the cake. It takes a second of mulling over his level of satisfaction before he turns sharply on his heels and begins to follow Thomas. "Come, pet," he commands over his shoulder with a sharp whistle like one might call a dog. "Leave them."

Blair:

She doesn't know what she was expecting, but the bitter taste of blood explodes on her tongue as Thomas shoves his bleeding hand against her lips. There is a slight albeit futile struggle, and there is a stark look of shocked betrayal on her face before she forces it away. She supposes this is a small price to pay for defying their demands, but as he walks away from her, she can feel the split skin on her knuckles beginning to knit back together. The ache remains, but as though this had happened days ago, not minutes. 

Isa's threat, as labored as her words are, hits home and Blair turns, caught between Silas and Thomas' retreating backs, and Presley and Isa still hanging by their chains. She wants to ask how long they'll be locked up, but she knows she's not supposed to. She's not supposed to care about them. But she also can't say nothing. So she walks back over to Isa, uncaring about the bloody mess that is spattered around her. She tilts her head up, gently but with purpose, and she blocks her view of Presley so that the wolf has to focus on her. 

"If you manage to get the jump on me, I'll let you do it." She forces a levity into her words, but she means them nonetheless. Not that either of them would understand. She doesn't bother to look at Presley as she turns and follows the vampires. 

Blair needs to find Ellery.

#c: presley #c: silas #c: thomas #c: blair

[loki-godofmischief-myking]

Love Is For The Foolish (9)

Loki x Asgardian!Reader

Warning: This chapter contains suggestive content and will probably leave you with many questions I will happily answer.

<== Previous | Next ==>

Chapter 9: Restless

“With the Bifrost gone, how much dark energy did the Allfather have to muster to conjure you here, your precious Earth?”

“He did not...”

Thor angrily sighed recalling very well how you nearly begged him to never disclose the fact that you were the one providing the dark energy. He was a man of his word. Never would he think to betray your trust if there wasn’t a sufficient reason. 

In this case, he felt telling Loki would give him the sense he needed. Thor knew the tesseract had changed Loki but surely his feelings for you were still there.

“The dark energy was provided by Y/N.” Thor prodded further trying to appeal to his brother’s emotions. “Your wife. You do recall your wife, do you not brother?”

Loki’s breathing hitched, his chest constricted with the mention of your name. The memory of having harmed you was so hard to forget. His mind burned with the image of your pained expression.

“I thought you dead.”

“Did you mourn?”

“We all did. Our father-”

“Your father,” Loki decided to direct his emotions elsewhere. It was easier to avoid the topic of you and focus on his anger. “He did tell you my true parentage, did he not?”

Back in Asgard, you looked out from Heimdall’s tower towards the still broken Bifrost. After having aided Thor’s return to Midgard you were literally drained of all energy. You weakly clung to Sigyn who aided your visit.

Sigyn was especially worried when you suddenly clenched your eyes shut feeling yet another dizzy spell. “Perhaps we should go back Y/N, you need your rest.”

That phrase had been thoroughly exhausted towards you. Since the day you awoke from the rest Loki imposed on you till now. At first, they worried of your loss, then of the impact Loki’s betrayal would have on you, now it was the fact that you had given your everything into aiding Thor. You supposed they were right to be concerned with your current condition.

“I won’t be long, I only wish to know one thing.” You turned your sights to Heimdall who already had the answer. “Did he tell him?”

“That you gave your energy, yes.” Heimdall paused for a moment knowing very well your one question expected two answers. “That you are with child, no.”

You sighed as instantaneous relief washed over you. To think you were still willing to put not just your own life on the line, but that of your unborn. It may have been unintentional or perhaps you never really were exempt from his charms and mischief- Loki had won you over completely. The coldness of your heart had been no match for him.

Sigyn watched your hand smooth over your swollen belly unconsciously at the news. There was a content upward curve at the end of your lips. She knew very well you cared for Loki and your children equally. The reason you ever agreed to put yourself at risk was that deep down you wanted Loki back. You had confessed to her when you thought Loki dead.

“I would give anything to let Loki know that he was going to be a father.”

Now that you could, you did. You gave your all to have Thor retrieve Loki.

Sigyn smiled as she once again held your hand. “Now then I won’t take no for an answer. I’ll drag you back to your room if I have to.”

“I doubt you could carry all three of us,” you fired back. 

It was important to show that you weren’t just some hopeless abandoned wife carrying the disgraced prince’s offspring- as you heard it be said in passing. Even if it was difficult, you would hold your head up high to show you were dependable even when the situation was dire.

“Norns,” you exasperatedly sighed with a roll of your eyes. “I can hardly manage!” You smiled with an exasperated sigh. The hours of being on your feet coupled with the sleepless nights you’ve faired were catching up to you. “Let us get back before the Allmother finds us gone.”

\\\

It wasn’t long after you had recovered from exerting your dark energy that you heard from the Allfather that Thor would be bringing Loki back as a prisoner. 

“When he arrives I do not want you here.”

Shocked by his choice of words Frigga stepped in. She did not want you mistaking what they were asking of you. “What he means to say is that it would be best if Loki did not see you immediately upon arrival.” 

Loki had a tendency to react strongly to emotional events. No doubt he would cause trouble if he were to see you in your current condition.

“Of course, as you say Allfather.” You nodded not really having a choice but to follow their orders. That didn’t mean you agreed it was the best thing to do. “We all know how well Loki reacts to secrecy.”

Odin did not care for your sarcastic response. He stood from his throne in a confrontational manner. “Do you think you know better than I?”

The question echoed the empty room say for a few guards it was just you three there at the time. 

“I am just curious to know how long you intend me to hide from Loki.” Eventually, he would hear and the result would be worse. “Believe me when I say there is no one more eager to condemn his actions than I am!” 

Your outburst caused the palace walls to shake and all lights to go out reminding Odin that Loki wasn’t the only one whose power was linked to their emotions. 

As your chest rose and fell harshly you exhaled a cool puff of air. Anyone would have apologized or at the very least looked away when Odin narrowed his eye but not you. You continued to hold his gaze with a furrowed brow. Your hands protectively held your swollen belly knowing very well they grew just as restless as their mother.

With a wave of her hand, Frigga restored the lighting before walking down the steps to be at your side. You had just recovered your energy and could not afford these outbursts. “Y/N please save your strength.” She put her hands atop yours feeling the restlessness within you. “It will do no good to the little ones.”

You nodded with a sigh. It was hard to hold back even when you knew what was going on. Pregnancy changed a woman physically but were far more affected emotionally and mentally. All the things you would normally keep to yourself were being expressed without your consent. 

Frigga wiped away the single tear that rolled down your cheek with a sympathetic smile.

“I did not will this,” you pointed to your cheek where the drying tear trail was evident.

“I know.” She smiled knowing very well how hard you tried to keep up the facade. “Y/N, I promise you will see him soon.”

\\\

“Did you not once wonder about your wife,” Frigga asked. Her heart had been broken by her son’s harsh words but there was even greater pain in what was left unsaid. She could hardly recognize the man that stood before her. Was he really the boy she nurtured and cared for?

Loki swallowed the lump forming in his throat. He could not afford to ever think about you. Even now the memory of his dagger in your side haunted his conscience all the while his heart ached to be with you. 

“Not once,” he confirmed.

Frigga nodded in understanding. “But now?”

Loki turned his back to her knowing very well that she knew what he wanted most was to see you. That he was absolutely distraught by the fact that you had yet to be seen. It made him wonder if you had recovered.

“I promised her I would allow you two to speak...”

Frigga gave you an apologetic look as you appeared beside her. She did not expect Loki to be so crass.

"Thank you Allmother.” You exchanged a final look before she disappeared leaving only you two in the cell. 

The moment was long overdue, you anticipated the fact that what you two would discuss was not to be heard or seen by anyone else. A wave of your hand shrouded the outside of the cell in darkness, isolating him and you.

Loki scoffed at the sight of you in his cell while still maintaining his signature smirk. He believed you to be an illusion just like Frigga. “How lovely of you to visit me Love.”

He had to admit his heart skipped a beat as he took in the sight of you with plaited hair. It had grown longer and perhaps that was your reason for fashioning a crown of it. Your look was complemented by the emerald green dress he figured you recently fashioned as he had never seen it before.

You said nothing in return only taking a few steps to close the distance between you and Loki. At the final moment, your dominant hand was engulfed in your signature dark smoke as you conjured up your dagger.

Without hesitation, you plunged it into Loki’s side, channeling all the built-up resentment.

Loki doubled over with a grunt of pain as he realized what you had done.

“Now we are even.”

He looked up to see a satisfied smirk playing upon your lips lifting all his previous worries. "Guess I deserved that," Loki groaned after pulling out the dagger in one quick motion.

“That and much more,” you sternly assured. Although you had been betrayed that day you would never forget how much more painful it was to awake to the news of having lost Loki. 

That physical pain was long forgotten in your distress.

Loki healed his wound almost immediately before stretching his hand out to you.

“You are such a fool Loki!” You planned to make him suffer some more but you could not resist placing your hand in his. As soon as you did tears began to obstruct your vision. “Faking your own death so you could try and rule Midgard...”

“That was not my intention from the beginning.” Loki thought back to The Other and Thanos thinking it best he never speaks of them to you. They were not people he wanted you to be involved with.

“Then what was?” You felt restless from all the contradicting thoughts and emotions you had yet to process that you could hardly control yourself. The temperature inside the cell began to drop rapidly. When icicles began to form you turned your back to Loki and laid your hand on your belly. “There, there... calm down...” you muttered under your breath as you ran soothing circles around it.

Actions Loki found most intriguing. He was far from naive to miss the signs if there had been any. To his eyes you were unchanged. That’s when it occurred to him, you were every bit as talented as he was.

The next time you expressed a wave of discomfort he saw it. It was merely a glimpse but the glamour spell faltered as your concentration did. In an instant, he was before you giving an accusatory look. “You are with child.”

You shook your head.

“Do not try to deny it!” 

With the next wave of pain, you completely lost control allowing him to see how you caressed your swollen belly. “I am not denying that I am pregnant.” You sighed, “I am denying that I am with child because I am not only carrying a single child.”

Loki opened his mouth as if to speak yet nothing made it past his lips.

“What has happened to that quick wit and silver tongue of yours? Is it really that hard to fathom the idea that you have once again tricked me? What a horrid trickster you are, faking your death so you may run off to another realm. “Professing your love for me only to disappear once you have filled my womb.”

"How could you be so reckless!” Loki was extremely gentle as he picked you up princess style. He sat you down on the bed with a scowl when he recalled Thor regaling him of how you had given your all into sending him to Midgard. “You are in no condition to be thinking of anyone other than yourself!”

“It became inevitable when I realized how irresponsible and idiotic that fall had made you.” You were back to your stoic self once the pain subsided. “Or perhaps it started before only I wished not to see it.”

Pregnant! Loki could hardly wrap his mind around the revelation. Then that night, before Laufey came... when I- Loki tried to hide the fact that he was battling himself internally. He could have harmed more than just you that night. Had his dagger been longer... 

“Stop,” you held his chin in your hand making him turn towards you. Tragedy had brought with it many things. One was the sharpening of your eyes. You had become far more vigilant and aware of the slightest shifts in expressions and moods. “There is no use worrying about the past when the present is before you.”

The way he eyed you and your protruding belly said it all.

“They were never in danger.”

Your body ached not of pain but of restlessness like you had been bedridden for days. There was some physical discomfort but not too much. Most importantly it was coming from your back, not your side meaning it wasn’t Loki’s doing.

“Y/N,” a look of relief washed over Queen Frigga as you made a move to sit up. She held your hand helping you comfortably shift your weight around so you may sit at the edge dangling your feet.

“Here is some water your highness.”

Thanks were unnecessary and impossible at the moment with how painfully dry your mouth was. You could feel an irritating prick a the back of your throat when the cool liquid was reintroduced. It felt as if you had been on the brink of dehydration.

Frigga’s hand gently held your back so you wouldn’t overdo it. “Slowly my dear.”

Once the glass was empty it was taken by the maid. As you grew conscious of your surroundings you noted several maids present along with a single healer who seemed to be taking their leave.

“How do you feel?” Some light-headedness and nausea were to be expected, she wouldn’t be surprised if you confessed to those.

“My back-” you sat extremely straight up stretching every which way to alleviate the pain. “I feel as if I have been in bed for days.”

Frigga gave a half-hearted smile. “That is because you have.” To be exact it had been weeks.

“That long?” Your eyes went to the location of your wound curious to see it but were obstructed by the nightgown.

“Do not worry, no one was in danger.”

Her phrasing seemed odd to you, “No one?” You grew worried when she held your hands in hers with an unreadable expression. It was as if she were hiding something and was trying extremely hard to keep from expressing her emotions.

“Please do not worry my dear Y/N.” Your emotions were strongly bound to your magic. It had been something to look out for before, she could only imagine how recent developments might affect it. “Women must rest and be mindful of themselves in your condition.”

“Condition?”

In a way, you were just as surprised by the news as he was. The timing was horrible but the circumstances were not. Loki was or rather still is your husband, a man you had passionately embraced countless times. There was no one else you could envision yourself with, he was the only man you would ever consider bearing children for.

“And you? You are not meant to carry a Jotun child much less two of them.”

“Yet here I am.” You stand, making it a point to show you were absolutely capable of carrying your children. What had broken your spirit was the devastating news of Loki’s fate that day. “You are what worries me Loki.”

Just moments ago he had been talking to his mother in a manner that you had never seen before. There was a look in his eyes that spoke louder than words. “I could hardly recognize you before.” Your brow furrowed in remembrance, “I know you did not lie to your mother. All this time you did not think of me until you were confronted by Thor.”

“I-” His jaw tightened. The fact baffled him as well. He did not notice it before but perhaps the tesseract had clouded his mind to the point where all he thought of was power. It pushed back every thought of you making it that much easier for him to hide your existence. That is until Thor began using your name to weaken his resolve.

“Whatever the reason may be, I hope you regain your composure.” You sent him a pointed glare to show you were far from fooled. “I’ve never been one to tolerate foolish men and I won’t start now.”

Loki was beside himself, his jaw had gone slack. He had just been stabbed and scolded by his pregnant wife yet all he could think about was the fact that he was going to be a father. “I did foolishly manage to unleash two more Jotuns onto Asgard...” His hand went to your stomach feeling for himself.

Loki gave a pained expression when he met your eyes again. He wasn’t expecting you to be so welcoming of him after all that he had done.

And you could see it. 

”I never intended to have children after knowing what I really was.” Jotuns were heartless monsters who readily abandon their young if they do not meet expectations. Such was his fate. Although Odin may have taken him in he was far from the ideal father. “Laufey, Odin, and even your father- they all had their faults.” He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat at the thought of him being next. “I do not wish to fail.”

His confession garnered one of your own. “I love you Loki.” Your hand steadied over his assuring him he was not alone. “Even if all you wanted is power-” You sighed loudly trying to keep your wits about you."I am overjoyed that I got the chance to share this with you.” 

That was all you wanted. 

Asking for anything else would be selfish.

“Foolish enchantress,” Loki scolded. His lips pressed against your cheek in a chaste kiss. “I undeniably love you as well, far more than power.”

You smiled at the unmistakable fluttering in your stomach. “Once again you have smitten me with your words.”

“I can give you far more than words.” 

\\\

Frigga gives you a gentle smile as she enters your bathroom where you have taken solace in the bathtub. “You must be in a great deal of discomfort to call upon me.” She had offered her help throughout your pregnancy but you were always reluctant to accept. “Always wanting to prove your strength when there is also strength in numbers.”

You sighed eyeing the ice-cold bath water with a thin layer of literal ice crystals hardening at the surface. Beads of sweat continued to form and roll down the sides of your face. One fell from your chin onto your chest before disappearing into the bathwater.

“I do not know what else to do Allmother.”

Displeased by your inability to cool down, you shut your eyes and leaned your head back. You were burning up inside and out making your skin glow with the sheen of perspiration.

“Give me your hand dear.”

All the Allmother did was rub your knuckles with her thumb. Her eyes closed in concentration as she hummed to an unfamiliar tune.

Your own eyes shot open once you began to shake. It was as if your nerves could once again feel. The ice melted but the water remained incredibly low in temperature. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” she admitted giggling. “They were only restless so I soothed them by soothing you.”

By now Frigga knew you were expecting twin boys. It was a revelation that had her grinning from ear to ear. She would be able to relive her memories of a young Loki through her grandchildren. 

“It can be avoided if you were to stop harboring all the burden on yourself.”

You shook your head unable to accept that sharing the burden would help.

“Odin has not allowed you to see him yet, it is understandable for you to be upset.”

If it weren’t for Frigga you would have probably done something unfavorable against Odin. Thankfully you managed that one visit with her help. You promised yourself it would be enough until Odin came to his senses. 

“I underestimated the Allfather, he is far more stubborn than I could have ever imagined.”

Queen Frigga helped you out of the bath offering a nice warm towel to help balance your body temperature. By now you must have been freezing. “He is preoccupied by other matters but I will speak with him.”

The Aether was keeping Odin busy but it was no excuse for why he had not allowed you to see Loki. Truly even Thor was preoccupied with Jane that neither of the Odinson men had taken time to visit you.

“I wish you were well enough to walk the gardens again.” With your pregnancy advancing you were much more vulnerable and weak. Bouts of sickness, dizziness, and extreme heat flashes plagued your days. “I know you and Thor’s friend would get along.”

“Thor’s friend?”

“Jane, she is a lady friend from Midgard.”

\\\

“Your Highness!”

“Your Highness-”

“Princess!”

Your door is broken down as a flurry of maids and guard invade your private rooms full of concern.

“What is it?” You hardly had time to slip a robe over your shoulders when they ushered you out. 

“We must get you to safety there has been a riot in the prison.”

“What?” Your heart sank at the thought of it being caused by Loki.

They were extremely careful with you as they transported you to a much more secure location with the secret halls of the palace. Neither Frigga, Thor, or Odin were in sight but you were much more concerned with thoughts of Loki.

You were far from relief when you found out your husband had nothing to do with the rioting prisoners because you had lost the one person in all of Asgard who had cared for you besides him. The woman who not only cared for you as her son’s wife but as a young child.

She knew you.

She knew of what you were capable, of what you had done. She helped you. Your teary eyes lowered onto the black hematite necklace than hung from your neck. The hematite she acquired for you so you may live a normal life.

Unbeknownst to you Loki too mourned her loss. 

You angrily eyed Odin who would still keep you from seeing him. Now is when he needs me most. Although you voiced your thoughts to him before, Odin would not give in.

Just as anger was ready to consume you Heimdall caught your eye. He seemed to call you silently with his eyes. You did not bother to excuse yourself from Odin and went to him.

“Go to them,” Heimdall whispered. “Thor and Loki are waiting for you.”

If he was the one to suggest it you knew it was possible. Heimdall was able to keep this from Odin giving you the chance you had been waiting for.

An opportunity you could not miss.

\\\

When you appeared from behind Thor you expected Loki to be happy to see you but it was quite the opposite. He shook with anger, seething at Thor. “The only time you and your father allow us to be is when you mean to use her.”

Odin would use you as a means to keep Loki grounded while Thor seemed to have no qualms over using your dark energy. This would be the second time and far more discerning with you being far more pregnant than the last time.

You were still unsure of what role you played. You only appeared as Heimdall asked you to but something told you this had to do with what lead to Frigga’s death. Indebted to Frigga you were, and so you would help. “Allow me to help if it will honor Frigga.”

“We need a portal out of Asgard that will be undetected by Odin,” Thor informed you hastily.

“I can do it,” you nodded although part of you feared the amount of energy would put your unborn at risk. 

Loki saw your reluctance as your eyes shifted to the hand you kept cradling your swollen womb with. “There is no need.” In a single blink, he was beside you holding your hand. “I will return,” he informed his brother before teleporting you and himself into your room.

“Loki-”

Your protest was muffled by his lips. Loki could no longer hold back his desire to kiss you, to be close to the only other person left in this world who understood him. “There is no need for you to be in harm’s way. I will help Thor on my own.”

“But-”

Again your lips were claimed by his in a manner that left little protest.

Both your eyes closed allowing your other senses to take over. His lips pressed hard against yours molding into each other as your arms came around his neck and his lay at your sides minding his unborn children. 

There was a salty taste, his dried tears were gone from the eye but they remained on his lips. Your tongue swiped his bottom lip ridding him of all his past tears and making way for your new ones as they ran down your cheeks.

“Loki please don’t leave me.”

But leave you he must. “If I do not do this, I’ll never be free to live my life with you.”

You shakily sighed clutching onto him burying your face in his neck were you continuously kissed. “Did she tell you?” Your voice wavered as sorrow took over once more. She was so happy though. “They are boys, surely they will resemble you.”

Frigga had indeed told him. She regularly updated him on your health and theirs. “I’d rather they take after you.” His hands held your face so he may have a final look.

“Loki~”

“Do not worry.”

But worry you did when Thor alone returned.

-end-

A/N: Sorry for the long wait, but I kinda played myself with the last chapter and threw myself a curve I wasn’t ready for. So I hope you like it!

Tag List: @drakesfiance  @sweetacp  @fyeahlitaajpunk @cosmicsskies  @marisayouass  @woohoney

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki x asgardian!reader #loki #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Laufeyson x Reader #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson x y/n #loki odinson #loki odinson x reader #loki odinson x you #Loki Odinson X Y/N #loki scenarios #loki imagines #loki fanfic #loki fan fiction #loki fics #marvel scenarios #marvel imagines #marvel fan fiction #thor

[omgilostmyshoe]

Writing Challenge Day 6: aftermath

Lungs burning with every labored breath, muscles sore and used, tensing uncontrollably, throat just... numb from all the exhaustion and screaming, yet it is still not over. Battle rages on, and the stench of blood fills your nose in inescapable cloud, fogging your senses. Shake of the head, yet another desperate breath to try to clear it up, you need to concentrate, your friends need you.

So you focus, reaching inside, drenching up every scrap of power, energy you have left to release it in earth shuddering sound wave, trying your best to not think, not count all the people you're hurting, literally breaking their bones... But no, not the time, because as much as you hate the violence, letting them inflict it on your family is way worse, it's worth your agony, worth every tear and pang of guilt. It's probably even worth the deal you made. It should be... It must.

In your scattered state you don't notice the lonely figure that slipped past your defense line. Don't see the shining dully blade in its hand, don't feel the danger now that you alone again and there is no supernatural being in your head to warn you. It doesn't even really hurts the first couple moments as the dagger sinks in you back, boring deeper in the vulnerable flesh, until it does, pain flaring and radiating in scorching ripples across your chest, spine, echoing in your head. It fills you to the brim, and more, and then even further, until you left gasping weakly, collapsing to the ground, and finally -  surrendering to silence...

 ...only to be awakened from the nightmare suddenly, gasping yet again, confused and terrified at how real that felt. But the soft hand soothes its way through your hair, rub gentle circles in the shoulder, massages open tightly clutched fists. You relax, momentarily appeased, still reeling from the dream, but a bit more centered, comforting yourself that it was all it was. If it was a reality, then surely you would be dead and not enjoying this soft caresses from... who was it comforting you? Probably Amarel, always physical, always worrying. Or maybe Gleb, he hated nightmares too. Might as well be Eira even, though she was suspiciously quite in that case, but maybe...

"You really should try to sleep a little bit more, it'll help with the recovery."

But you can't sleep now, drowsiness replaced with dread so fast it can give you an emotional whiplash, because you know that voice, hearing it so many times, so many month, right in your head, instead it rings out tired and worried near your ear.

So eyes snapped open, blinking against semi-darkness of the room illuminated only by fully stocked fireplace, scrambling away, nearly falling off the.... bed?.. You were laying on; you just look. Finally look at the man, committing his features to memory, wishing suddenly yours was as good as his. You wish you could preserve the brief spark of hurt from your movement in dark brown eyes, the angle of the tightly clenched jaw, the hands, twitching as if trying to touch you again. It is gone as soon as it comes though, replaced by collected facade, impassive expression, that you instantly hate so, so much.

But can't do anything to change it. You swore to yourself after all, you already chosen your path, already excepted the deal with the closest thing to a Devil that probably ever existed and there is no way back on that. Even if that thought makes your heart clench painfully, and your hands tremble, and the tears threaten to spill like a river in the spring. But he takes your cues and reads them all wrong, fingers - actual, real fingers strong and positively male - twitching again in clear attempt to reach you.

"Does it hurt? I can renew the healing spells, it would help with the p..."

"No."

The single word falls between you like a wall, or a blade, cutting deeper than the dagger plunged in your back, which apparently did happen... You can feel the subtle throb where it was, dulled by the magic and who knows what else, but that's about it, you don't even feel any blood or stitches, more of a nasty bruise, than a life-threatening injury.

What actually hurts is insistent longing, near damn thirst to touch, to hold, to be closer, closer, closer, to finally feel his warmth and hear him breathe and know, that he's real and here. It hurts, now that it's possible - you can't, not allowed, in some twisted irony of the cruel universe denied by, well, yourself. In the stupid, rash, fucking noble attempt to be a decent human being for once, not the selfish mess of self-pity and helplessness you always were. You hope it worked, at the very least, because just as you suspected, being righteous equals being miserable, but hey, it's all for the greater good, right?..  

Quiet "I'm sorry..." falls from his lips just as the first tear rolls down your cheek, only to be followed by another one, and another. You can't stop it, they just come and refuse to stop, just as you refuse to stop looking at him, even if it tears you heart to pieces. Even if it does the same to him. You can see it through the blur of the tears, the haunted look he now wears, the slumped posture, shadows clinging to his back as if answering to his mood. Hell, they probably are, his power is restored to full now, he can do whatever he wants now.

Well, almost whatever...

You don't know how much time passes until your tears dry out, leaving pathetic hiccups in their wake first, and only exhausted misery later. He doesn't move from his spot in the foot of the bed, and you don't lower your eyes, still locked on this vision of your heaven and hell rolled in one single being. Finally, the sleep claims you, drags back into thankfully dreamless abyss, and on the verge of falling into it completely you fell gentle arms around you again.

You allow yourself to cuddle closer this time, appeasing screaming conscience that you can't control it, when you're so sleepy, it's just instinct.

It doesn't really convince you.

You don't really care either, because as you drift off, you feel a barely there, soft and loving, bittersweet kiss on the corner of your mouth and can't help, but

smile.

#writing #snippets #t.o.d. #leanan #MC #my writing

[thecomicsnexus]

SPAWN #2-5 JUNE-OCTOBER 1992 BY TODD MCFARLANE

SYNOPSIS (FROM IMAGE COMICS WIKIA)

A clown stands in an alley discussing all the gruesome ways he can kill someone to a regular alley cat. The clown claims to be the Violator to the cat and that he would be going after Spawn later that night.

Spawn is drawn to the top of a church cross for the second time. He begins wondering how he'll find his wife and how she'll accept him now that he's been disfigured. He curses at the devil for betraying him in his deal to come back and knows that he's messing with him. He knows he's controlling when he gets these visions and thinks it's a sick twisted game to him. His thoughts are interrupted when he spots a strange clown waving at him from the shadows of a nearby rooftop. The clown disappears into the shadows.

Later that night at the Dawncorp Building, mobsters are attacked and have their hearts ripped from their chest. The Violator stands over a bloody mess.

The news channels report on more "heart surgeon" killings. Another channel reports on Wanda Blake opening a new care clinic for disabled children.

On top of the church, Spawn attempts to use his magic to transform his skin back to the way it was before he died. He's shocked to find out that he turns himself into a white man when he knows he should be African American.

Sam Burke and Twitch Williams discuss the paperwork piling up on their desk. They now have six cases from the heart surgeon and no leads.

The violator takes out a mob boss named Gino. He shudders when Gino mutters the name, "Jesus" over and over again and rips out his heart.

Spawn receives a flashback of Jason Wynn, who had taught him to fight. He recalls getting into more fights and disagreeing with Wynn's ideals. He found that Wynn was slowly becoming evil. Spawn becomes faint from the shock and exhaustion. He falls into a nearby ally.

Upon waking up, he finds the clown and recognizes him from the rooftop. The clown tells him the he is the Spawn and a hellspawn sent back to earth. Shaking it off, Spawn dismisses the clown and walks away. Upon turning his back, the clown reveals his true form of being the Violator and asks him to not turn away and to, "have a heart!"

Spawn suddenly recalls his ex-wife's name is Wanda Blake. He decides to head to Central Intelligence Agency Headquarters to dig up Wanda's file to find her. He thinks about how he used to think it's an invasion of privacy but now he just wants his old life back. His memories are slowly returning to him and he knows the devil is playing with him. He knows there are many unanswered questions he needs to solve like who the clown was he met in the alley.

Elsewhere, Malebolgia laughs as he watches from his throne. He continues his plot to expand his army and use Spawn to aid in gathering the requisite soldiers. He's glad he has sent several other followers to check in on him as no one from Hell truly trusts each other.

Sam Burke and Twitch Williams pour over the casework they have pilling up with the mob heart surgeon killings. Outside, Violator prowls the alleys singing songs to himself about murder.

At the Central Intelligence Agency Headquarters, Spawn breaks in to find Billy Miller sexually harassing his secretary Linda who is already married. Spawn picks him up by the throat and warns him to keep it in his pants. He then takes the file on Wanda Blake and retreats into the night.

Malebolgia laughs as Spawn uses violence which he loves and yearns for.

On the rooftops, Spawn reads she had started a fund in his name and maps the information to her current location.

Outside of Wanda's house, Spawn uses his Necroplasm energy to transform into a Caucasian once more. He rings the doorbell and is beside himself with how beautiful she is. When a small child named Cyan comes to the door, he faints.

Upon waking up, he finds Wanda has married Terry Fitzgerald, and together they had Cyan. He is belittled as he could not have children with Wanda and now understands the devil is playing with him showing him that his wife has moved on, remarried, and had children. Spawn leaves wishing her happiness.

In a nearby alley, Spawn's spell wears off and he returns to his vigilante costume. The clown walks up and threatens him again. This time he transforms in his true form of the Violator in front of him. Slightly surprised, Violator takes advantage of Spawn's distraction and quickly plunges his hand into his chest ripping out his heart. Spawn collapses on the ground dead.

Violator walks away, shocked that Malebolgia's favorite human was already dead.

Violator hears, "who said anything about being human" from behind him and turns around to see Spawn rejuvenated with green Necroplasm healing his heart wound.

Violator and Spawn engage in a brutal showdown with both loosing appendages. Violator is surprised Spawn is more powerful and claims he was supposed to be the stronger one. Malebolgia intervenes, explaining to them that they are both his minions in his battle against Heaven. Their goal is to cause man to do wrong, and Spawn will stop and kill them while doing so locking them on Malebolgia's side. He claims that heaven is strong but they won't be able to create the numbers he can.

Malebolgia restores Spawn's lost arm and shows pity on him. He then punishes Violator for his unscheduled killing spree because it has influenced crime lords to slow down their evil ways. he locks him in his clown form for a temporary time period.

At the Fitzgerald household, Wanda Blake wakes up with a nightmare that Al was reaching out to her for help but had changed somehow. Terry Fitzgerald lovingly supports her and feels she doesn't have to hide that she can't forget about Al.

At the Windgate Institution, Billy Kincaid is read his rights and claimed to be a cured man. He is being released from jail after good behavior. Billy smiles as he coyly still dreams of killing small children. He was placed in prison for 22 years, out in 10 on good behavior, for being caught with the murder of a Senator's daughter, Amanda Jennings. He had pulled out her teeth and placed maggots into her wounds in a heinous crime. At that moment, he half-fantasizes how he's killed at least 29 children by luring them to his ice cream truck and then abducting them and how he's bid his time to be released so he could return to his activities.

As he leaves, Billy sings about ice cream and Sam Burke, who was standing behind him, screams that he's insane and not actually cured. Sam believes that the murder of Amanda Jennings was not an isolated incident. Sam thinks about how he's always played by the law, but the law sometimes doesn't win.

That evening, the news reports about the release of Billy Kincaid.

In Queens, Wanda Fitzgerald puts Cyan Fitzgerald to sleep in her crib while Spawn falls asleep in the alleyway amongst trash and rubble.

Sam and Twitch Williams discuss the release of Billy at the New York City Police Headquarters. They agree to perform a midnight stakeout to see if Billy has reformed.

Billy takes Sherlee Johnson, finger paints

Cyan excited to see Wanda after day care.

Bums get hit by cops, cry about Billy. Spawn over hears, recalls how he was hired by Jennings for a hit on Kincaid. Cops go to him first. Problem was they found all the mutilated bodies but evidence went missing, and then the shack blew up. Jason Wynn then told everyone to drop the case.

With Sam and Twitch on stakeout outside Billy's house, Spawn sneaks in through the back. When he spots Sherlee Johnson's bloody dress, he moves into the house. Twitch spots a caped figure in the back and they both move in. Inside the house they find the evidence but no Billy.

At New York City Police Headquarters, Sam and Twitch begin plotting their search for Billy. When they walk into a back room, they find Billy Kincaid's body, bloodied and strung up with chains and a note. It reads, "Boy's screamed and girls screamed, so I made him scream... and scream... and scream...."

REVIEW

Sometimes this comic book feels like it is trying to be something it is not yet. But I have to give credit on how dark it is. Issue 5 is really twisted and it’s something that McFarlane wouldn’t have been able to do at Marvel. Sure, it was the nineties. But that is twisted.

The scene that didn’t work for me was Al’s reunion with his wife. Wanda and Terry sound so calm in front of this stranger, and they have the most surrealistic conversation about his ex-wife and how much the dog loved Al.

I give the arc a score of 9

#image #comics #review #1992 #spawn #violator #malebolgia #modern age

[dracox-serdriel]

Restoration, Chapter 2: Hypnogogia (Daredevil/Defenders) - a Mattelektra Fic

Title: Restoration Chapter Title: Hypnogogia Universes: Daredevil/Defenders Relationship: Matthew Murdoch/Elektra Natchios (Matteleketra) Rating: MA/NC-17 (eventually) Summary: Canon-divergent as of Defenders 01x06 Ashes, Ashes Matthew returns to his apartment to dig into everything he has on the Hand and Midland Circle, only to discover that he has a very unexpected guest in his apartment.

Written in honor of Mattelektra Week.

Read on AO3.

Restoration Chapter Two: Hypnogogia

About thirty minutes ago in Hell's Kitchen... Matt kept in step with Jessica Jones, who apparently not only possessed super-strength but also the gait to rival a gazelle.

"Shit," she said as she stopped abruptly at the edge of the alleyway.

Her exclamation came less than a heartbeat before her arm shot out to obstruct is path, so he didn't have a chance to avoid the collision. It wasn't enough to knock the wind out of him, but it came close. Her arm felt more like a bar of steel than human flesh.

"That one-handed guy said we only had an hour," she replied. "Barely enough time to get to my client, let alone dig through whatever the hell you've got on these assholes."

"Luke will buy us time," he pointed out. "If he doesn't, believe me, Stick will."

"I'm not leaving him with that fist thing and only that old guy with the stupid name as backup. We gotta do the divide and conquer thing," she said. Then, before he could reply, she added, "And you have to change out of that stupid costume."

"It's body armor," he countered.

"Whatever," she said. "Bring everything you have back to the warehouse."

"And the architect?" he asked.

"I've got that covered."

She turned the corner and started down the street, and he withdrew into the alley. He could tell from the tension and tone of her voice that there was no use arguing; besides, she had a point about his suit. There was a reason he didn't wear it in broad daylight.

So he decided to clear his head by taking the long route home. He retraced his steps to the other end of the alley and climbed a fire escape. He favored stealth over speed until he reached the roof, where he broke into a full gallop. There were surprisingly few prying eyes to avoid, so he quickly traversed the rooftops, descending to ground level solely as a precaution.

That, and the stairs would do him some good. His mind was reeling and swirling with plans to save Elektra, each one more ludicrous than the last. But stopping was too much like giving up, and he wouldn't give up on her. He couldn't.

He was so distracted that he was on the third floor before he heard it: loud, strong, and terribly familiar: Elektra's heartbeat. He knew it well intimately, but during their last two encounters, he didn't hear it at all. She had hidden herself like all the Hand's ninjas, but there was no mistaking it now.

He doubled his pace, taking the stairs as fast as physically possible, only slowing when he reached his door and only to ensure a noiseless entrance into his apartment.

He did his best to ignore the nagging doubts in the back of his head - the one that sounded remarkably like Foggy - warning him that this could be a trap. So he proceeded with caution, even though every part of him was screaming to rush to her.

Nothing had been disturbed in the main loft, so he continued to his bedroom. Matt spotted her weapons first. They were discarded beyond the nightstand, completely out of reach from the bed, where Elektra was curled up, asleep.

Her breaths came in long easy waves that made a perfect tempo with the samba spun from their two heartbeats. Everything around him felt serene and fragile. He found himself holding his breath as he stepped quietly into the room.

She was here, in his apartment. The only way she known where he lived was by memory. She must've remembered and come looking for him.

He desperately wanted to speak with her, but nothing on earth could make him disturb her. Not yet.

So he knelt beside her, and, unable to help himself, he took her hand in his own, cupping it like a priceless treasure. Then he said a prayer of gratitude and another for strength.

And he waited.

It could've been minutes or hours; it was impossible to tell when he tuned out the world beyond his apartment. All of his senses honed in on her, and everything about her engulfed him, consuming every ounce of his awareness.

And then she spoke, "Matthew."

His head snapped up as he said, "Elektra."

"It's good to see you again," she said.

Suddenly his head was empty, and he couldn't think of a single word worth speaking. Nevertheless, his lips moved as if on their own accord, imparting the only thought lingering in his mind.

"You're here," he replied. "You came back."

He wanted to tell her everything. But where to start? Should he tell that he would do anything to help her? How he felt (feels... has always felt) about her? Should he apologize for failing her so badly in her past life? Or should he confess his gratitude? Because no matter how horrible the means, he was thankful that she was alive and here with him.

None of that seemed right, so instead he said, "You remember. How much?"

Elektra didn't respond immediately, and when she spoke, he heard a furious and wild current of emotion in every syllable before it swept up her voice and forced her to stop.

"Everything," she said. "I remember everything."

She reached out to him, and he reached back. Then the gap between them vanished, and his lips were on hers, sweet and sure. It was wonderful, and he never wanted it to end.

But, after everything she had been through, she deserved someone who would always let her choose who she was. He owed her that much. So he pulled back to give her the space to turn away if that was what she wanted.

Clearly it wasn't, because she only allowed the shortest of moments before following him and continuing the kiss. But this time it was hard and needy, driven by hot-blooded passion and pure want, resulting in a powerful seduction that eclipsed any thought of

too much

or

too soon

in Matt's mind.

He needed to touch her, to feel her skin under his. Unwilling to break the kiss, he gracelessly climbed onto the bed. His free hand went to her cheek, then followed the familiar path down her neck to her collarbone. She gasped at the faintest of contact there, just like she had countless times before, and he darted his tongue in between her parted lips, eager to taste every corner of her mouth.

He quickly lost his leverage as she jockeyed for control, but he didn't care. Losing himself in her embrace was the tonic for every ill borne from her loss, the sole remedy for the nightmare of reliving her last breath in his arms. His hands retraced her supple and sinewy curves as he drank her in all over again for the first time.

His pounding heart skipped a beat. The first time. Not the last and not the only. Not if he could help it.

Matt needed to talk to Elektra, which meant he had to break away, and that took more will than he seemed able to muster. By the time their lips parted, they were both panting for breath, limbs entwined and hearts drumming hard.

It was now or never.

"I thought I'd lost you," he said quietly.

"Never."

"But I did," he continued. "Elektra, you died, and I - I am so sorry."

Her grip reflexively tightened, her fingers digging into the flesh of his shoulder and hip as if she feared he might get up and leave.

"It wasn't your fault."

"If I had listened to you, we wouldn't have been on that rooftop, and - "

"If not that rooftop, it would've been another," she cut him off. "It wasn't your fault, Matthew. In the end, you were the only one fighting for me. The only one who cared about me. Not the Black Sky, not the soldier... me."

"I'll always fight for you. I love you."

He knew that she knew how he felt, yet as soon as he said it out loud, he worried that she would shove him away in disgust.

Her muscles clenched, and her heart rate spiked dramatically. She was so lost in her thoughts that he couldn't read her reaction. Clearly he had upset her, but she hadn't pushed him away. Not yet.

His hand found her cheek as he tried to reconnect with her. "Elektra?"

"You haven't said that. Not in ten years. Not... not in the present tense."

A rush of relief caught in his chest.

"I should've told you. I regretted not saying it every second after - "

A finger pressed against his lips, trapping what he planned to say on his tongue.

"Me too. I should've said it every day."

Part of him said that they should wait. There would be plenty of time for sex and sparring and whatever else they wanted to do together after they dealt with the Hand. Being with her like this wasn't right. Not now.

But wasn't that the same thing he'd told himself before? He had believed that they could be together after they captured Nobu, that they could run away together after they survived the Hand's trap. He had pushed her away again and again for one foolish reason after another, always acting as if he had a tomorrow to promise and the endless luck required to keep it.

Yesterday was already gone, and Matt was finally ready to admit to himself that the only thing he had to offer was today, the here and now. In his world, the battle was never truly over, and he was done lying to himself about that, too.

No longer wounded by yesterday or bound to the tomorrow that may never come, he plunged headlong into the present with Elektra's lips on his.

Chapter Notes: The title of this chapter, hypnogogia, is the transitional state of consciousness experienced when falling asleep. 

Chapter 1: Hypnopompia Chapter 3: Hypnophobia

Written in honor of Mattelektra Week.

#mattelektraweek #mattelektra #mattelektra fanfic #daredevil fanfic #defenders fanfic

[charmscale]

A Demon’s Lust Chapter 7

Anita

As I was finishing my packing later that evening, Marian entered my room. She looked at my packs, almost ready to go on the bed, and frowned.

“You’re leaving? Why?” she asked.

I looked up from the dress I was carefully folding. “I wanted to study earlier, so I chained up the demon,” I lied. “He… he managed to break the chains.”

Marian shuddered. “What happened? Are you ok?”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine,” I told her, deciding not to mention my decidedly low power reserves. Those would recover soon enough.

“Why are you leaving? You have backup chains, right?” Marian asked.

“Who’s to say he won’t break those?” I replied. “I’m sorry, Marian, but I’ve got to go back to Rowan. I’ve got to be able to cage him, as well as chain him, next time I sleep. Who knows what he might do if he breaks free when I’m not able to get him back under control?” I finished folding the dress and carefully inserted it into my bag. I was officially packed.

“But the trials…” Marian looked scared. My heart broke.

“You’ll have to convince the king on your own,” I said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

Marian shook her head. “Don’t be. Just get back home safe. Ok?”

I nodded. “Ok.”

“So you won’t be sleeping the next few days as you travel?” Marian asked. When I nodded, she said, “I’ll get you some of my keep awake herbal tea.” She smiled. “Remember that assignment? Mine was so strong it kept the test subject awake for two days, and he only had one cup.”

I sniggered. “And I started a fire trying to enchant the leaves they gave us. I remember. I almost failed that class.”

“My tea’s probably lost a bit of potency now, but still, be careful,” Marian said. “A cup a day should probably be enough.”

I nodded. “You should go get it. I’d like to leave by sunset.”

 Saban

As the sun rose the next day, my mistress and I were on the road once more. I could tell she wanted to hurry, but she kept to a relatively slow pace. Probably worried about the horse. After all, it had only gotten to the capital recently, so it hadn’t had much time to rest.

I was… Uneasy. To defend herself on the road, Anita needed to be able to use magic, but her power reserves were dangerously low, and she wouldn’t rest to restore them out of fear of what I might do while she slept. I had tried to convince her to rest while at the palace, but I could barely believe my feelings for her myself. How could I expect her to believe in them? And my aversion to hurting her didn’t exactly apply to other mortals, so maybe she was right not to trust me.

We came to a fork in the road that evening. Well, sort of a fork. One path, the one we had arrived by, was well traveled, with deep ruts left by wagons and lots of hoofprints, and the other was barely a path at all. There was a sign denoting the well traveled path as the Rowan Way, and the grass covered trail as the Cendan Border Road. My mistress stopped, chewed on her lip for a bit, and then took the less traveled side of the fork. I grabbed her horse’s bridle. “Shouldn’t we be going the other way?”

She looked down at me impatiently. “This is a shortcut. Let go of the bridle.”

I knew a bit about Cendan from the memories I had acquired during the summoning and pledge. It was a rocky country with poor soil, forever raiding its neighbors for supplies. Its capital city was the interesting part. It apparently had a portal to my world, the demonrealm, in a large temple there. Sacrifices, usually captives from raids, were thrown in, and demons came out. Or, at least, they use to. I seemed to remember that, while the priests of Cendan still summoned demons regularly, the portal had been quiet for about 200 years or so. I wondered idly whose territory the portal was in, and why this demon lord wasn’t taking advantage of such a useful thing. The mortal population believed that the demon lord had lost interest. I doubted that. No demon lost interest in potential power.

I was also wondering what my mistress thought she was doing. “If it’s a shortcut, why is it so little used?”

My mistress snorted. “Because it’s considered dangerous. I, however, am a wizard. I can take a few wild lesser demons. Now, shut up and let go!”

Not with low power reserves you can’t, I thought as I was forced to obey. She was probably doing this because she wanted me in a cage as soon as possible. I hated that my actions were causing her to take risks like this.

The first hour or so was uneventful. Then we entered the forest. Soon, a thick canopy of leaves blocked out the meager light of the moon and stars. My mistress summoned a light. It was very dim, barely enough for her horse to see where it was going. Fortunately, I had good eyes, and could see well in the dark.

We stopped for a rest an hour later, and my mistress kindled a fire so she could have a cup of keep awake tea. I noticed that she used a flint and steel, not her magic. Her reserves were very low indeed. I felt a bit guilty.

I protested a bit when she chained me up and gagged me. “I want to relax awhile,” Anita impatiently explained. “And I can’t do that while you’re loose. Or talking.”

Because of the gag, I was unable to warn her when I felt another demon approach. It was a lesser demon, moving quickly. I began to fight the restraints. I could break free, but could I break free in time?

 Anita

I was just starting to drink my tea when the demon began to thrash. I groaned. “Stop that,” I ordered without looking over.

He was fighting my orders much harder than normal. I was just beginning to wonder why he was so frantic when, suddenly, I was encased in a translucent, sticky net. Before I could begin to cast a spell, before I could even think about what to cast, a giant spider was on top of me. My horse panicked, pulling free of its tether and bolting. I couldn’t blame it. The spider was bigger than it was.

The webbing the spider began to loop around me was thin, but strong. Soon I was too encased in webbing to gesture or speak. As the spider bared its fangs, I began to form a fireball in my mind. I hoped it would be enough.

As the spider’s fangs sank into my arm, I felt a sharp pain. Then, seconds later, all thought of fighting back faded from my mind as waves of bliss washed over me. I smiled.

 Saban

As the spider attacked, Anita’s command faded from my mind, and I renewed my struggle against the shackles. Soon she was encased in webbing. When the spider bit her, I began to panic. I knew of this breed of lesser demon. The real danger was its venom. Anita smiled woozily up at the spider, and I knew it was up to me to save her from whatever it decided to do to her. If it was a female, it might… I growled at the thought.

 Anita

The spider pulled its webbing away from my crotch, and ripped through my traveling pants like a kid opening a present. I continued to grin. Whatever she wanted was ok with me. When my loins were bare, the spider began to insert its ovipositor into my pussy. My smile broadened. I was going to be a mommy.

Her member was thicker than Saban’s, but, oddly, it didn’t hurt. It just sent waves of shuddering pleasure through my body. I moaned, and arched up toward my lover as best I could while bound in webbing. The ovipositor went in deeper and deeper. The spider shuddered, and I felt warm liquid gush into me. I closed my eyes and sighed happily.

Soon after the first egg, big around as a man’s fist, began to make its way down the tube. As it shoved its way into my pussy, past my dilated cervix, and into my womb, I came, hard. It was magnificent. I never knew I could feel this good. I had just come out of the orgasm and was blinking dizzily up at her, the spider, the source of my pleasure, when the second egg entered me. I came again. And again. And again. And again.

 Saban

I fought helplessly, growling, as the spider began to fill my Anita with its eggs. She came each time one entered her womb, though it should have hurt like hell to have something that big stuffed into her. The eggs came faster and faster, until she was basically having one continuous orgasm. My eyes glowed red.

Soon her belly began to bulge with the intruders. Still the eggs kept coming, and still I couldn’t break free. I focused my efforts on the shackles around my legs. When they finally snapped, Anita looked 9 months pregnant. The spider began to withdraw its ovipositor from her thrashing form.

I awkwardly maneuvered myself to my feet, and charged the spider. My head rammed into its abdomen. It squealed, and tried to wrap me with webbing, but I was stronger than its webs. I heatbutted it again. It squealed again, and began to retreat, attempting to take Anita with it. I was not about to let that happen.

The shackles around my wrists, weakened by my long struggle, finally gave way. I materialized a sword in one of my hands, and plunged it into the creature’s abdomen. The spider screamed as I split it open. Eggs and ichor gushed from the wound. I shoved Anita away from the rush of acidic blood, and shielded her with my body. Patches of my skin dissolved away in the flow, and then grew back almost instantly as I healed.

In a last ditch effort to survive, the spider tried to bite. I blocked with my arm. One of its fangs sank into, and through, my hand. I gripped the fang and ripped it out, unleashing another rush of black blood. I plunged the fang into one of its eyes, and my sword into another. The spider stumbled back. It twitched madly, then fell over on its back, dead.

I turned to Anita. Carefully, I removed the spider’s silk from her. She blinked up at me, confused, and then smiled as I carefully inserted my hand into her pussy. Her cervix, which had been dilated by the liquid the spider released into her pussy, was already beginning to close. I doubted I could remove an egg without seriously tearing something. Not with these large, clumsy hands. I removed my gag.

“Anita,” I told her gently, “I need you to do something for me.”

“Mmmmmmm…” Anita slurred. “Where did the spider go?”

“Anita, I need to remove these eggs,” I insisted.

“I like the eggs,” Anita murmured. “They feel nice. Saban? Why are you so worried?”

“I’m worried because, when your cervix closes and the egg fluid dries, it will be nearly impossible to get the eggs out. Then, pretty soon, as the painkiller wears off, they won’t feel so nice. And then they’ll hatch, and-”

“And I’ll be a mommy,” Anita sighed happily.

“No, they’ll eat their way out from the inside, and you’ll die. These eggs will kill you, Anita!” I was close to yelling.

Anita closed her eyes. Her breathing began to deepen.

“Anita. Snap out of it.” I was close to panicking now. “You’re a wizard. Snap out of it!”

I slapped her. Not with my full strength, of course. It was a human level slap. It was enough, however, to bring her out of her stupor.

“Wha-” Anita blinked. “Saban?”

“Anita,” I said. “Listen to me. I need you to allow me to shapeshift. Ok?”

Anita’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why? What happened? What did you do?”

“You got attacked by a Demon Spider,” I explained, guiding her head to look down at her bulging stomach. “It laid eggs in you. Remember?”

Anita turned pale. “Saban-”

I covered her mouth. “No, listen to me. I need you to allow me to shapeshift. Ok? We have to remove the eggs now.” I lifted my hand.

Anita swallowed. “You have my permission to shapeshift.”

“Good girl,” I said. I shifted one of my hands into a slender tentacle, and reached into Anita’s pussy.

At first I thought that I was too late, that her cervix had closed, but then I found the opening. It was still just barely dilated enough. Quickly, but carefully, I extracted an egg. Then another. Soon her stomach was just stretched, not bulging. But her cervix was still closing, and I hadn’t gotten all the eggs out. The next one made Anita wince.

“Painkiller wearing off?” I asked.

“Keep going,” she ordered.

After that each egg removal got progressively more painful as her body remembered that being stretched like this wasn’t a good thing. Anita bit her lip until it bled. “No one will think less of you if you cry,” I told her.

“Shut up,” she ordered through clenched teeth, and I had no choice but to be silent.

I was beginning to wonder if I would finish before the size of her cervix opening made removing the eggs unfeasible. I was having to carefully pop each egg free now. Despite herself, Anita was starting to cry.

I was reaching for another egg when I realized that this was the last one. I was going to make it, I realized with relief. This one, though, came out a bit bloody as her cervix tore, just a little. Anita screamed, and then began to weep, losing her hold on the command preventing me from speaking. I pulled her into my lap and made soothing noises. “It’s over now. You’re ok.”

Anita stopped crying abruptly. She looked up at me suspiciously. “Why?”

“Why what?” I murmured, lightly kissing her on the forehead.

“Why save me? Why not feed while I was in pain? Or while I was euphoric? Why in the hell are you being so nice!” Her last question was closer to an exclamation than a question.

She tried to stand. I tried to stop her. “Let me up!” she ordered, and I obeyed. As she stood, wincing, she told me to go find the horse. This command I fought. I didn’t want to leave her alone.

“Aren’t most lesser demons territorial?” Anita snapped. “Particularly the animal-like ones? What are the odds of another being nearby?”

She had a point. I reluctantly went to fetch her horse. It wasn’t a particularly flighty animal, and had been trained to tolerate demons, so it hadn’t gone far. When I got it back, Anita didn’t let me help her mount up. She didn’t even let me touch her. It was... Irksome. I had just saved her life, after all.

We reached the town surrounding Rowan Castle around dawn. Apparently the Cendan Border Road really was a shortcut. By then, Anita looked a bit less suspicious. More smug.

“I really did a number on you, didn’t I?” she asked abruptly, as we walked through the gate, past the sleepy guards, and into the empty town.

“Excuse me?” I responded, looking up at her.

“The binding. I did a really good job. That’s why you saved me, isn’t it?” she queried, sounding very proud of herself indeed. “It’s the only logical reason.”

She would never believe the real reason. It was far, far from logical. Reluctantly, I nodded.

“So you couldn’t have actually done anything to break the binding back at the palace, when you overpowered me. That would put me in danger, and you’re not allowed to endanger me. I was perfectly safe the whole time,” she said.

And why shouldn’t she be proud of herself? I wondered. Why shouldn’t I give her this moment of satisfaction? “Yes, mistress,” I pretended to admit. “While I did greatly enjoy your fear, you were never in danger.” That, at least, was true. I did enjoy her fear, a bit, and she was really never in any danger.

I looked up at her hopefully. “Does this mean I will be allowed to bring you to orgasm again?”

She considered it. “Not immediately. You still need to be punished so you learn to behave. But, eventually, yes, you will.”

And, suddenly, everything was alright in my world. Anita was safe, and she, believing her binding kept me from mischief, would allow me greater freedom in the future. And, best of all, I could make her cum again. Well, I would be able to eventually. I was a patient demon. I could wait.