#at least for the shells it makes sense and it’s functional too but on human mikey designs? I pity the boy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

scarletwritesshit · 2 years

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〆Goro Akechi x Sumire Yoshizawa 〆Who am I, if Not a Shell of my Former Self?

"I don’t remember who I am."

"You are Sumire, if I am not mistaken."

"Yes, but beyond my real name, I have no concept of myself. All I know is that I am the inferior Yoshizawa sibling."

"I have no conclusive solution for you there, as I hardly even see myself as anything other than my father’s plaything.”

Sumire and Akechi hoped that they still remained anchored in the true reality. No delusional therapists to turn Japan into a dystopia of perfection, no recorded existence of the Metaverse, just a detective recovering from years of abuse and an aspiring gymnast once again seeing the world through her own eyes. It felt real. They felt physically there. Then again, so did the last two realities they had experienced.

"It’s an awful feeling, isn’t it Akechi-senpai?" Sumire asked.

"No need to refer to me with such formalities. It matters not to me in a conversation with a friend. That aside, might I ask, what precisely are you referring to?"

"S-sorry…Goro. I keep forgetting that you’re not as uptight as you used to be. Uhm, anyways, what I meant was having to fake your entire self just to appeal to those who hold high expectations in you. You never really get to be yourself, and if you were someone before, all sense of that identity is lost."

"I am not sure if I can exactly relate in your case, seeing as how I was never someone to begin with," Akechi said, no longer bothering to hide his dejected attitude from her.

"Well, now that you’re free, you can act on your own terms to finally learn what the real Goro Akechi is like.”

"So, you’re saying that I should kill of my own free will..."

"N-no!" Sumire panicked. "Don’t you want to move on from being a killing machine?"

"I suppose that sounds appealing, but killing is the only thing that I know how to do skillfully.”

Sumire thought for a moment. How was she supposed to coax a former killer into becoming at least a semi functional human being? She didn’t even know where to begin with herself, let alone another scarred individual like Akechi. All of the activities that came to her mind was Kasumi this, Kasumi that. Nothing really screamed "Sumire, no, I would enjoy this."

Perhaps this was the perfect opportunity for them to rediscover themselves, together?

"The only thing that I know how to be is Kasumi. But there still has to be me in there somewhere, right? I-I apologize if I am speaking utter nonsense to you."

"You are making absolutely no sense" Akechi said, without hesitation. "What could you possibly mean by…having yourself inside of you somewhere?"

"Well, that’s what we are trying to find out, are we not? I gotta stop trying to be like Kasumi altogether, and you gotta find out who you truly are."

Akechi still could not seem to grasp this concept. It was all too unfamiliar to him, as he had known nothing but abuse for the entirety of his life. He was clearly confused, squinting his eyes at Sumire and skeptical of whether or not she actually knew what she was talking about.

How could she know what she speaks of? Sumire had absolutely no idea who Sumire was. She only knew Kasumi. What made her think that she had the ability to dictate who Akechi was? Shido had done that to him enough growing up, and he wasn’t about to allow yet another person define who he was.

Yet, he was at a loss of where to begin discovering his true self. He can't start with what he knew, as his goal was to break free of his reputation of being a killer. That was unfortunately all that he was capable of. Sumire must see something completely different in him. An actual human being beneath the wrongdoings he committed against his will. Akechi couldn’t understand why she viewed him in such a positive manner, or why her kindness was somehow getting to him.

"How should I expect you to know where to begin, when you don’t even know who you are yourself?" Akechi asked, clearly becoming frustrated with his inner turmoil.

"Well, I know that I am Sumire, and not my sister. That's enough of a start to separate reality from delusion, is it not?"

Akechi did not respond to Sumire’s question.

"And you know that you are no longer a pawn of Shido’s. You're a free man. At the core of this all, we're in the same situation. Practically blank slates."

"And how do you suppose we fill in the blanks of who we are?"

"Maybe we just...need to try a little bit of everything. No more being intimidated by life's potential; we just need to jump in and have at it!"

"You’re acting awfully enthusiastic for someone who was just freed from...possibly two layers of false realities?"

"I told you, I'm putting my life as Kasumi behind me. You aren’t going to get anywhere with a negative attitude like that!"

"I suppose I cannot allow myself to be weighed down by the chains that I have been freed from months ago."

"Exactly! You've made this much progress in rehab, so you cannot be stopped in your tracks now!"

Akechi quietly thought to himself for a moment. He had been undergoing extensive rehabilitation for a few months now, and he had a better grip on himself than when he was working under Shido. He felt more, down to earth, as one may say, but he could alas, not depend on others to hold his hand through life.

It was his chance to carve a path for himself. All he needed to do was take the first strike. Yet as much as he may try to deny it, he could not resist the feeling of wanting to step into a new life with someone that he felt legitimately cared for him for the first time in his life.

After a moment of hesitation, Akechi nodded his head in agreement.

"And I refuse to stop."

Sumire seemed relieved to have finally gotten through to Akechi. He was a fairly reasonable man once he calmed himself down and collected his thoughts. For a brief moment, she was worried that he may snap and lose his temper like he was previously infamous for doing.

Akechi did not allow himself to lose his cool out of frustration. In fact, Sumire was fairly sure that was the calmest he had ever been during a disagreement of their views.

"That's good news!" she said, enthusiastically. "But I guess you are right about being at a loss of where to start."

"Well then, why don't we start together?" Akechi suggested.

"T-together? That's a rather surprising statement coming from you, Akechi! N-no offense intended, of course!"

"I mean it. We've been through this much for this long, so why not face what lies ahead as one? We may learn a thing or two about ourselves from each other."

Sumire felt like she was beginning to burn up. Face the rest of her life, with a boy who had already helped her through a rough couple of months? She did initially plan on working with him to figure out a sense of self-identity, but Sumire was thrown off guard by Akechi suggesting the idea himself.

The way he phrased it made Sumire think he had…slightly different intentions. Or maybe it could be her awkwardness influencing her perception of Akechi’s feelings. Though, who wouldn’t become flustered when their adorable, loyal friend suddenly says that they want to face the world with you together? Surely, he just means as friends, right? There's no way that he could have enough understanding to think that-

"Huuuh? Like, as in a rest of our lives kind of thing?" she asked, words practically falling out of her mouth.

Sumire must've caught Akechi off guard as well, or maybe he wasn’t aware of the extent of the words he was saying.

"I wouldn’t object. After all, we know each other better than ourselves."

"Senpai, d-do you know what you could possibly be implying here?"

"Sumire, if it’s one thing that we have learned from being dumped off here, it’s that we should listen to our heart, and not let the pressure of others define who we are. I can tell you, though it is not something that I fully understand myself, I find the strangest sense of comfort in talking with you."

Sumire was left completely speechless.

“It is merely a suggestion, but perhaps we can start by teaching each other what it’s like to be genuinely loved. No one else has tended to our emotional needs in such a way, correct? A great understanding seems to be present between us, something that I have learned is important in any form of relationship.”

"Ah...S-senpai?"

He pointed towards the calendar on the wall behind them. The date was February 14th, not even two weeks after Maruki falsely assumed that Akechi was being put to rest permanently. By this time, he had undergone months of rehabilitation in the true reality, and even though it was still sinking in after all that he had experienced in the Metaverse, Akechi trusted himself and his intellect enough to have a sneaking suspicion of what he was feeling for Sumire.

"It is Valentine’s Day, after all" he noted. "Even if it is just for today, I’d like to take the first steps to rediscovering our true selves, together."

Sumire had given up completely on words at this point. Her perception of those around her had clearly been warped, yet what good would she be if she continued to believe everything to be a lie? Akechi was speaking genuine words, and she would be in no right to show any disbelief, especially if it was from his heart.

Tears now building up in her eyes, she flung herself into his arms and held onto him tightly.

The unlikeliest of allies had found themselves to be more alike than they thought, so who was she to deny a sincere bond from someone who absolutely refused to leave her despite the rocky road that recovery has been?

“Akechi…” Sumire managed to say through her tears, “does this mean that you l-like me?”

“I wouldn’t say that like is the precise word that I would use here, but I think you got the idea,” he said, wrapping his arms around her.

If they wanted to heal from a lifetime trauma and emptiness, they would first have to learn to see themselves in a positive light.

And what better way to learn how to love than with someone close to you who felt exactly the same?

#persona 5 royal spoilers #persona 5 spoilers #goro akechi #sumire yoshizawa #sumigoro #fanfic #fanfiction #valentines day

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hospitalterrorizer · 6 months

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diary199

4/1-2/2024

monday - tuesday

tomorrow i work.... but it's 5 hours and i can do that... i will be okayyy.

then i get a bunch of days off and stuff. cool. i forgot to finish the drawing but i corrected that song from last night and did another one. i think i am too tired now to do another one. i've, instead of working on a third today, to get things closer, been thinking about if i'm dumb or not, stuff like that.

i've been thinking about that cute/acc thing again, i was reminded of it, apparently my gf bought it also so i guess i will read it. unfortunate but maybe useful. i do really feel like i will disagree with that book, that is everything i am feeling. but does that mean i'm going to be bound for failure while reading it? i don't know. i argue with everything, and resist everything. it feels useful to resist any 'accelerationism.' it's just... i dunno. i feel like no matter what, could i even refute it right, and if i could, who would care. but i want to, or i feel myself developing, or having developed, some other experience of 'cute'. i've talked about it before, apparently 34-ish entries ago. so hardly over a month. but the book is coming into more clear focus. it appeals to some sense i have, for instance, of letting the void speak through one, but then it asserts, cuteness has no interiority, it's pure surface. but pure surface is really a perfect shell around void, it is a perfect articulation of an inside, it's so shadowy a thing, spilling out constantly. the sense i have of this comes from dolls, and a painting. but thinking about this made me write it into a novel kind of, which is probably good. i should articulate this stuff in fiction. guerilla tactics against discourse.

advancing things against visibility. yeah. just leave myself to places no one looks. maybe that's part of why i get so upset and feel so ugly sometimes, and then need to dress like a slut or whatever.

but it's okay to be like that.

when i was watching the doom generation someone called amy a slut, like, in the way where they're like, you go girl. but it made me feel sick. the existence of the word and the violence it perpetuates really does horrify me and i don't know if it's even thinkable to absorb it back into being a positive. really what it means is the penalties get to exist beside whatever efforts there are to clean the word of cruelty or whatever. the whole movies is about why that word is terrible, basically.

i felt like crying hearing it in the theater.

i feel scattered and upset. it's because i slept only 4 hours but i'm also just crazy and stuff but i really feel something. i've been pregnant for a while now, it feels like, something inarticulate. hopefully, soon, alone, i can write this thing out of me.

part of why that cute/acc book upsets me so much probably is the amount of pain i experience needing to be cute, and then being cute, and the pain i know lolitas experience, the pain i know people put into dolls, fashion dolls to porcelain ones you keep in cases, the affection and interiority of the objects or the objectified. it keeps itself there, at the threshold, the book, it seems at least, of the objects, it's not that i want the human to have any place in the book, it's that the horror exists where, the horror i embrace by wanting to be cute. where is this, the human is wiped away yes, and not replaced with a cute surface, but spasm and incoherence, something illogical and driven by fantasy and erotic pulsions, as much as a need to be pristine. i am cleaning myself to only dirty myself. my monstrousness is not contained within tamagotchi cuteness, it is real deformity, to and for the social field. i am non-functional. i cannot even be myself at work. when they see me, i am an error that requires solving, cuteness does not make me easy to swallow, cuteness is tension, it interrupts itself, it's ugly.

hans bellmer - illustrations for madame edwarda.

anyway. i complain too much. today i also read about fascism and of course read more foucault. but i was so shocked at work, i heard the beatles, and listened to ticket to ride for the first time in years and was shocked by how much i like it. i loved them as a kid and stuff, they were like my first favorite band, without them i probably would not make music, but it's been a long long long time since i've listened to anything other than strawberry fields forever.

i am tired though, and other stuff, i just need to sleep i think.

soooooo

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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pixystixxxdraws · 1 year

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Tell us more about Aureum's past at the Wandering Sea. I know it must've been immensely hard given that she was trapped in that grimoire (if I'm remembering her lore correctly). Did she tell Waver about all that had happened then...? Or is it too painful for her to tell...

So funny story! She was kind of split into two for a while!

In Type Moon, the sense of self can be split into three parts: the mind, the body, and the soul. For example, the cult that took in Gray tried to recreate Arthur by recreating parts of her, and Gray was supposed to be the body, hence her face.

(split into a read more for your own safety: this is long)

Some Background Information

Aureum's family's magecraft revolves around controlling miracles, specializing in the miracle of life itself. Aureum's magecraft was specialized to be her own sense of self, or her self concept.

Her magecraft can make it so people can look upon her face and simply not recognize her, out of a full lack of ability to connect her face to the concept of "Aureum"

(also along the way a few millenia ago, one of Aureum's ancestors may have taken the sword of bruncvik to kill fafnir and integrate the dragon core into their body, and it's not a perfect fit even now -- overexposure to magical energy leads to dementia, loss of motor functions, and eventual death.

this is usually circumvented by a sort of "seal" on their heart, that can be unsealed to unleash immense amounts of magical energy, already higher than her body's above average magical energy output. But if left untouched, that overexposure of magic kicks in. But unfortunately, this spell to re-seal the heart takes at least two people... )

Okay, now the book

When Aureum escaped her family, she had to unseal her core to be able to escape the number of mages who tried to capture her. She knew she was unable to seal her heart in time. While she does love magecraft and is very intelligent, she just didn't have enough time to reseal her heart.

She had already put parts of herself into her grimoire, basically recreating parts of her magical crest (which is unheard of in type moon lore which would land her a sealing designation), but she essentially sealed most of her sense of self that she could: her mind, and most of her soul.

Her body, however, was left to move the grimoire from place to place, as to not let her family find her. But after so long...that hollow shell could no longer stand a life of half-consciousness, only feeling whole holding that book.

Little did that husk know, at the same time a certain Wandering Sea apprentice had tried making their way to the surface using an old artifact they had found.

After helping the empty husk escape the Tremelliare family and successfully fake their death, that Wandering Sea apprentice declared the only way they would take the husk, who was on death's door from overexposure to magical energy.

"What is your name!" "My name...is Renae Velvet!"

Renae was brought to the Wandering Sea, with what remained of her soul transferred to a new body, more akin to a normal human, in exchange that they study and experiment with that original body.

But what was left behind was the book.

Renae

Renae, who had pretty much never used her last name after a certain point from how little it was needed, pretty much played into the mage archetype like a fiddle, but she always felt this deep hatred because of it. The only remedy was stealing old magecraft to study it, but this was the bandaid to her deep self-hatred and sense of loneliness. She was still part of Aureum.

Aureum's love for magecraft comes from how it connected her and her brother when they were younger, how she connected over it with Waver. So not having anyone to connect with just made it feel...ultimately fruitless.

Renae is confronted by this when she is forced to go on mainland and work with the Sponheim Abbey, and where she encountered Lord El-Melloi II

Let's Fast Forwards, Go Backwards, and Sidestep A Little

Lord El-Melloi II, having studied as much information about Aureum's death as can be allowed, caught wind of the Tremelliares reinvestigating an area around northern United Kingdom, which turned out to be where Aureum was suspected to have died 7 years ago.

But he meets up with Renae's coworker, Naranga, who seemed strangely familiar with this place considering they weren't have supposed to be there...

As Naranga connects the dots, of what happened to that missing heiress was supposed to be.

Rushing through the area, Naranga finally finds the grimoire, leaving Lord El-Melloi II in shock: that was Aureum's book, the one he remembered her having from all those years ago. But it was more than that.

Gray actually had a special interest in Aureum herself. Knowing about a young girl that mage society refused to remember, but her teacher seemed to know all too well, she was drawn to the book, but more than that, it was as if the book called to her.

When Gray touched the book, Aureum was able to force herself into Gray's mind, able to force her to return to the Clock Tower and reunite Mind with Body.

Gray is actually really conflicted about this herself because of her situation. She askes Renae why she is doing this, isn't she a person herself? Would she not be erased if she and Aureum fully connect? And Renae shakes her head.

"My situation is different from yours, darling...you were forced into being someone you weren't. I was part of her...part of Aureum from the start."

And so, due to specific circumstances of the time, Renae and Aureum reunited, and Waver could finally recognize that body as Aureum's, and Aureum could finally once again recognize Waver.

What happened after?

I imagine it doesn't actually come up much in their relationship. Waver is well aware to not poke into parts of Aureum's life that might have traumatized her, and Aureum (who remembers them very well-- she technically did live it) doesn't talk about it.

I don't think it comes up until Adventures. At this point, Aureum and Waver are married, and Aureum is perfectly content playing Waver's happy wife. She still toys around with magecraft, but she is happy with Waver and Gray and his students, and she is content joining Waver on his misadventures.

But when the Wandering Sea comes into play, and more people recognize Aureum, Renae, is when she starts to break down. They tend to be shocked at how much yet how little she's changed, about how she used to turn people against each other practically for fun back in the day for her own games, and how could she ever be content being a housewife after all the things she did?

And they're right, it does get to her. While she puts in a brave face in front of her former colleagues, she breaks down in private. She confesses to everything she had done to Waver, secretly hoping he might hate her, or for some kind of punishment. Because her life now? it was perfect for her, she didn't want anything else, but it wasn't the life someone like her deserved.

And Waver has to scoff because it's still nothing compared to some of the mages he'd seen, who had people killed for their magecraft or their games. It still comes as a shock to him because of how guilty she felt about it compared to what it is, however.

But most importantly, he has to emphasize what progress she has made, how much more honest she is and how much she has stuck to her values since then.

Okay, I'm so sorry because of how big this is but I wanted to give as much context as I can about her circumstances. Even so it's uh, cutting a lot of context for other things but if I did include more it would take all day :')

#aureum pomum tremelliare #cw // suicide attempt #I'm still cutting out a lot of context and details!

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turtle-go-brrrr · 3 years

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Scratch my shell, I scratch yours

A/N: Heya! So remember two posts ago where I said I wouldn't write fics because I'm not confident enough in my writing to post it? Yeah, me neither. I started writing this at 6 am because I couldn't sleep and kept working on it during the day, so enjoy ^^(I got a little tired at the end, and i think you can feel it ;w; hope it’s good enough anyway!)

Also, I’m a sucker for platonic intimacy, and there is a severe lack of platonic x reader in this fandom

Fun fact: the Shell is both the Dorsal (part on the back) AND the Plastron (part on the front).

Requested: No

Pairing: None, platonic

Word count: 2500 +

Triggers: None

Summary: You make an embarrassing suggestion that they surprisingly accept.

_____________________________________________________________

The idea came to you in a random conversation you had as you sat on their couch.

"But wait, you can really reach everywhere? Like if I touch here-", you point to a crevice in the middle of his shell. "You're telling me you can bend your arm enough to get here?"

Leonardo gently takes your wrist and pull your hand away. "I mean, we have some of those telescopic scrubs to help, you know? Or we can just ask each other to get to the hard places if it's really complicated."

Oh.

"Oh. Yeah, that makes sense."

You have been asking a few questions about their shells after Raphael started showing off some of his scars, fascinated by the intricate patterns you could see on your friends. The topic of cleaning has be brought up, and as your curiosity took charge, your brain decided to embarrass you as much as it could.

"Do you think I could help?"

Only the faint background music Mikey had set up earlier could be heard as your mutant friends looked at you, eyes wide open.

Oh, that came out wrong.

"Wait, that's not what I-", you start to explain your line of thoughts when you get interrupted by the smug look Mikey sent you, as he harbored a teasing smile.

"Oh? I didn't realize that's what you meant when you said you wanted to hang out more," he wiggles his eyebrows as your nervous laughter fills the room.

"Hold on, I can explain."

Silence again.

"Oh, you're actually listening?"

"I mean, I think we're all dying to know why on earth you'd want to take a shower with us. You're not usually this upfront with your affection," Donatello chimes in. He's not even looking at you in the eyes, but doesn't really try to hide that stupid smirk.

Bastard.

You take a deep breath, trying to focus on not letting the embarassement take over, but your voice shakes imperceptibly, and you can feel youself start to sweat. Great.

"Okay, so I was thinking : you guys always do so much for the city and never get anything in return. I remember Mikey told me that you guys love shell scratches, and now I can see that you have some trouble cleaning it, so maybe I can help with that ? Kinda like a massage sort of thing, it doesn’t have to be weird if no one makes it. Now obviously we’ll be wearing swimsuits, we’re not close enough for… you know… actually taking a shower together, " you try clearing your throat discretly. You hear a muffled laugh from Raph.

"Anyway, I think Casey knows where to buy the best animal care product. I think human stuff might not be suitable for your shells, and I read somewhere that water was the best way to clean a turtle shell anyways, but if you have suggestions just let me know what you usually use. Do you even have swimsuits ? Doesn’t matter, I’m sure we can find you some-"

As you rambled on, the slight shame started to wear off and you were able to explain your line of thoughts more clearly. The awkwardness of the situation seemed to settle down, even if your friends were absolutely going to tease you about it later. Leonardo seemed hesitant, though.

"I don’t know, man. Are you sure about this ? I don’t want you to feel like you have to. We can take care of ourselves, you know."

"I’m not gonna force you if you don’t want to, I’m just offering because I want to do something nice for you guys. You can’t really take a break, but you could at least relax a bit."

"I’m up for it." You didn’t expect Raph to agree so quickly, but maybe you should have anticipatd that as you look at the bags under his eyes. "I mean, the worst thing that could happen is falling asleep while getting a massage from a friend. Kinda sounds like a dream if you ask me. "

‘Well that was easy,’ you think as your face lightens up.

"Besides, we can laugh at them for wanting to shower with us. Didn’t think you’d want to be so intimate, " he purrs as he gives you a side glance.

Oh. Bastard number two.

"Alright. Sure. You know what, fair game, " you laugh it off. Mikey puts a reassuring arm around your shoulders as Donnie places his legs on your laps.

"We do have swimwear, so you don’t need to worry about that. And you were right about using only water to clean it, as human products tends to make us itchy afterwards. There are some types of oil we use sometimes to nourish our shells, however. I think the only thing we might need to look into is new brushes. The ones we have are, hum, barely hanging on."

You send a quick text to Casey and April to let them know about the plan after making a short list of supplies with Leo, who ended up agreeing.

It didn’t take that much convincing.

____________________________

Saturday came fast. After getting all the necessary supplies with Casey, you both made your wait to the lair to join April. They had both agreed to help you in your task, because 'damn, they really need some appreciation'.

"When do you think they'll be back?" You ask Splinter as he offers you a cup of spiced tea.

"Usually around one in the morning, unless they were delayed."

Unless something went wrong.

But those dark thought quickly faded away as you heard the faint echo of Mikey's laughter as he recalled their night. Light chatter filled the room as they took off their gear and put away their weapons, and April hushed them to get changed and take a quick shower so they could get started and finally have some sort of a break.

You could see they were excited as they each went their own way, waiting for their turn to the shower.

When you live in the sewers and try to turn it into a living space, you have to do what you can with what you have. And sometimes, what you have is a large space that you can turn into a huge bathroom, with multiple showers and a large bathtub; but what you don't have is privacy. So big communal bathroom it is.

In this specific case, it's a good thing, because it means you can all chill together as you get to work on their shells. Once everyone was settled in, April motioned them to sit on some of the chairs you put up. She opens the bag Casey and you brought and starts getting the multiple brushes and bottle out.

"You have to understand that you guys are, uh, gigantic. So try to stay at our level, okay? And stay put, please. Anyway, here is what we've got for you: there are multiple brushes - one of each type for each of you - and some are harder than the others. Don't worry, we'll try not to scrub your shell off of you," she winks at that, and holds back a laugh at Raph's worried expression.

She continues. "We also found the oil Donnie told us about, and we bought multiple bottles. You'll have a stack for next time." She then gets one last bottle out that she puts aside.

"That one is for Splinter. To make his fur all soft and shiny," you butt in with an innocent smile. The old man deserves a treat too.

Casey laughs at that and says, "So, there's tree of us and four of you. Who is okay waiting for his turn?"

Silence.

After a solid minute, Leonardo sighs and volunteers to let his brothers enjoy a well deserved spoiling session. Mikey, instead of sitting on a chair like a normal person, choose instead to lay down on the bathroom floor.

"You said it was basically a massage, right? Now it really feels like it!"

"Oh, good idea. I'm this close to getting a pillow and having the nap of my life," Donnie says, putting his fingers together.

"Your fingers are touching."

"I know," he gives you a side smile as he starts to get up, but you quickly bring him back to reality. "But there's gonna be water everywhere?" You sit down next to where he just was and watch as he goes back to where he sat, sending you a disapproving side glance.

"Let a turtle dream, will you?" He lays down on his stomach, puts his head on his arms, and scouts closer to you.

You watch Raph get settled on a chair next to Casey, putting his arms on the backrest as April hands you one of the harder brushes. Leo makes a quick trip to the kitchen and brings back some water, a few snacks, and a copy of Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne.

"Again," you start. "There's gonna be water everywhere. Are you sure bringing a book here is a good idea?"

He gives you a sly smile. "Gotta live up to my name."

What?

"What?"

"You know," Mikey interrupts. "Fearless."

"Oh. Right. Well, don't come crying when you drop it into a puddle then." But you offer him a plastic bag anyway, to hold his book with it in case he wets his hands.

"You sure you're okay waiting?" Casey asks him as he starts pouring water over Raph's back.

"Yeah, don't worry. I have things to keep me busy anyway."

______________________________

It took one swipe of the brush from April for Mikey to start... what was the word? Churring.

A low rumble coming from his throat that had kind of the same function as a cat's purr, Donnie explained. It was an expression of contentment or happiness, that sometimes even happended when they needed reassurance.

Adorable.

"I can't believe you guys can purr and never told me." Raph doesn't even bother opening his eyes when he answers you, "We knew you'd take advantage of that. Didn't want to be babied by the tiniest human we ever met."

Asshole.

You went back and forth with the gruff turtle, always in good spirit though. Conversations flowed, laughter were exchanged, and everyone managed to lighten up. Master Splinter joined the group at some point, and was just glad to spend some time with his family - all of it. He also started to take cared of Leo’s dorsal, to his delight.

You don't exactly know when, but some time after Donnie started to let go some soft churrs as you scrubbed the dirt off of his shell, you stopped listening to the current topic and started to really focus on your task.

Scrapping the dirt hidden in between every crevice, rubbing the largest scales, you were surprised by the look of the bare shell of your nerdy friend. You never really stopped to observe this particular feature the four brothers harbored, not only out of decency, but also because it was always covered. Gear and clothes, backpack and tech, dirt and blood, there was always something hiding the intricate patterns of their shells.

You unconsciously slowed down to really take in what you were seeing, your fascination and curiosity taking over your wish to help.

"I don't know why, but I never expected your shell to be so colorful," you say after wiping away the dirty water from the left side of his back. You didn’t mean to say it at loud, but he doesn't answer you. However, you do get something from Mikey.

"Man, you should see mine! Don helped me create an organic paint so I can paint my shell without hurting myself with a bunch of chemicals, and it looks sooo damn good-"

"Shh!"

"... Did they- Did you just shush me?"

"Shhh!" You whisper yell this time. You then give a side glance toward the sleeping turtle under you.

"Annw. Good luck waking him up."

"Yeah, I'm... not doing that. He needs his sleep," you laugh quietly.

______________________________

It took the three of you around an hour to deep clean their shells. Even Raph was finally letting go and softly churring at the end. Mikey was loud enough to have trouble speaking, and Donnie was still asleep. Splinter was still working meticulously on his son, who, he could tell, had a hard time holding back the content churrs that threatened to spill out.

You get up and strech, feeling your joints crack and already anticipating how sore you’ll be tomorrow. The muscles in your arms were burning, and you couldn’t feel your butt anymore, but it was worth it. You’ve never seen the four mutants so relaxed before.

Remembering the oils, you went toward the towels to dry your friend’s back and give the final touch to, what you’d grow to refer to, your work of art. You gave a few head scratches to Raph, who was dozing off with a lazy smile, and went back to Donatello. You slowly dried his dorsal when you felt him shift under your hands.

"Hey buddy," you speak softly. He whispers a ‘hey’ you can barrely hear.

"I’m almost done. I just have to put the oil, then you can let it dry and go to sleep, okay ? " You open the bottle and get a paintbrush, with which you start coating his shell with a thin layer of oil. You can hear his soft churrs start again.

Casey accidentally dropped the bottle of oil on Raph’s back and was desperatly trying to gather as much as he could. "Shi- Fuck, wait-"

"Here, give me some. Thanks to you, I don’t have to open mine, " April said with a smirk. She helped him clean up before going back to Mikey, who raised himself on his forearms and watched the scene unfold with a tired smile.

It took only around twenty minute to put the oil on their shells and get it almost dried up. Once it was done, you helped Splinter and Casey clean up as April let her dizzy friends hold onto her, guiding them on their way to their room. Once it was all done, you waved Leo good night as Raph ruffled your hair and went to sleep. Mikey gave you a big hug and thanked you for the ‘bonker idea’ and made you promise to do it again soon, which you agreed on.

April was already sleeping in the big armchair next to the couch, Casey in a sort of little nest of blankets and pillows at her feet. As you made your way to the couch – your makeshift bed for the night – Donnie was passed out cold on it already. And, boy, does he takes up a lot of space.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and turned to see Splinter standing next to you. "I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you borrowing his bed for the night. "

"I– are you sure ? "

"He stole yours. He’ll live. " A gentle smile tugged at his lips as he guided you to your friend’s room, offering you a spare blanket and pillow. "Have a good night, Y/N. You know where to find me if you need anything."

”Thank you, Master Splinter.” You can feel your eyelid close on their own, and decide to finally call it a night. You got settled as best you could in the bed, and fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow.

A warm breakfast would await you in the morning.

#tmnt x reader #tmnt #tmnt bayverse #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #i was supposed to make headcanons about them getting their shell scratched #but my brain did this #took me at least 8h #idk if im 100% satisfied but hey #im really excited about posting it ^^#hope you liked it!

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tokoyamisstuff · 3 years

Text

Dark Side Of The Moon Ch. 1 - Dark! Loki x Reader

Chapter 1: Speak to Me/Breathe

Chapter Summary: The last thing you remember was being mortally wounded, now having woken up in a completely different reality. And you’d soon need to face the horrors of who would seek you out...

Warnings: Violence, Blood, Suicide Attempt, Graphic Descriptions of Death, Dark! Loki, Spoiler you kinda die but kinda don't

Words: approx. 3800

[Story Masterlist]

Masterlist to my other works right ->Here<-

Lyrics used from the Song: Kina ft. Snow - Get You The Moon

“Y/N, look out!”

The piercing sounds of gunfire nearby made your eardrums ring, yet Steve’s words got through to you nonetheless.

But you were determined to end this, here and now.

Tony was the first one at your side, catching you in his arms before you hit the floor. However, you could only do so much as whimper a silent apology to your friends, who now had to live with the consequences of your actions.

“Why did you do this?!” you heared Dr. Strange yell as he unsucessfully tried to close the deep cut in your gut. Too afraid of what you might see if you’d look at the wound, your glare was locked on the beautiful sky - yes, the sun was almost setting, and it was somehow calming to you that this would most likely the last thing you’d set eyes upon.

“There was no reason to be this reckless!” Steve followed close by, his scolding soon turning into desperate screams. “Fuck. FUCK!” If Captain America himself is cussing, then it’s as severe as you thought it to be.

Your wounds were lethal, that much was sure.

And of course they were right, as always: You didn’t need to play the martyr here, throwing yourself into danger to shield your comrades - well, you did anyway, and there was no going back now.

On the other hand, they were the ones taking a gravely depressed widow onto a dangerous mission. But you did not want your precious friends to blame themselves for that, for it was your own wish.

Dying in an honorable battle was what would send you to Valhalla, after all - where you could finally meet him again, hopefully.

The only one not having spoken a single word up until now was Thor, very well knowing what all this was about. It was no secret that you were sick and tired of how your life had turned out to be, ever since the Infinity War.

You felt empty. Incomplete. Desperate. Hallow.

The God of Thunder had turned his back to you, yet there was still agony radiating from that already broken man. Your almost-brother-in-law was the only one who could possibly understand your pain. Thor Odinson had lost everything: His homeland, most of his tribe, his family and best friend - and soon, you as well.

All this time, you wanted to be strong. For them, who had also lost so much!

But at some point things just got out of control.

“You can’t leave me alone, Lady Y/N! Not you too!” Thor finally whimpered as he fell onto his knees, softly squeezing your hand. “You’re the only thing I have left from him!

So this is what dying feels like.

The bloodloss caused your limps to go limp, and when the pain began to stop and got replaced by numbness, you knew it would soon be time. Your brain lost the remaining control over your body, and you found yourself encoated by pure nothingless.

Only able to listen by their screams, cries and kind words - at least you’d die surrounded by those marvellous people. It sure was a privilege knowing them.

You weren’t afraid - all in all, it had been a good life, after all.

There were no regrets.

“Shh” you hushed them, using your last bit of strenght so your lips formed somewhat of a most broken smile, forming words between gurling on your own blood.

“It’s alright, I-” you cut yourself off, trying to scream as a last, torturing pain shot through your whole system. “I-I-I’ll-- meet him again...you know?”

“I’m no-not strong enough, please...” Thor cried out like you had never seen him before, feeling a tide of guilt wash over you. “Loki wouldn’t have wanted you to go like this! He told me to protect you, so you could lead a long and happy life!”

Without him? Impossible!

“You gave me a shoulder when I needed it

You showed me love when I wasn’t feeling it

You helped me fight when I was giving in

And you made me laugh when I was losing it”

Yes, indeed: You had been to selfish to keep on living just for the sake of your friends, burdening them with yet another loss.

“I-I don’t wanna go...this was a mistake, I- please...”

How badly did you want to soothe them right now, telling them that everything would be alright and you’d meet them again, eventually?

It was too late now.

Your body gave up earlier than your soul, which had endured and kept on all this time, even in it’s shattered state.

And when Tony’s palm gently closed your eyes, making it easier for you to embrace the cold darkness, the last thing you heared before your senses gave up were startling you enough to almost bring you back to life:

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

That voice was familiar, yet it didn’t belong to Loki. Dr. Strange, no- Stephen Strange, your friend and mentor of the mystic arts.

“I don’t have the heart to allow this to happen” he stated frantic, making you wonder if that was a dream of your hypoxic brain or if you were still able to hear them? People tend to say the sense of hearing dies last, after all. “She still has a pulse, even though weak. Hurry!”

Their voices were far in the back, words way too far out of your reach to understand. As if you were an outsider, only observing from a distance.

Your friends were fighting, or maybe discussing something. That much you could make up from their tone, but your mind was too exhausted to make sense of anything.

It felt as if you were already without a body, floating through the unknown like a feather in the wind - not knowing where fate would lead you to next.

Everything was numb - even your pain. It was soothing, somehow.

Because you had been a ghost way before, when you were alive even. An empty shell of a human, acting like they weren’t dead on the inside.

Coherent thoughts, memories, emotions...even the fractions of your own past you had both collected and surpressed. Right now, they were all restrained and pushed far in the back of your very core, where you were finally able to evaluate them without earthly bondings.

Was this heaven, hell - or maybe both or none or them?

____

"Be aware of the limits this tactic has. It’s a very drastic measurement that can most likely be used only once in your lifetime, and it is not guaranteed to work either.”

Stephen’s voice again. You recall that scene, it’s been long in the past...but why are you remembering it now?

Yes, this was familiar. All of you had been invited to the Sanctum Sanctorum, a fitting place to teach about this ancient knowledge.

You clearly remembered that Loki was absent in any of the Doctor’s lessons, feeling that a “puny human” was “unworthy” to teach him, and “it would be nothing new anyway, Y/N, I am a god and the way better wizard, I know it all already.”

What he was about to tell you back then was some kind of crazy emergency-plan: Dangerous, unpredictable and escpecially untested.

“I’ve only read about this tactic up until now” the mage pondered loudly as he picked at his goatee, earning some childish giggles by you and Tony. “So I cannot promise that it will function as planned. The Multiverse is dangerous and acts in unforseen ways.”

“Very reassuring” you had mocked at the time, not really biding the topic any importance or thought ever again.

But now...

The trick sounded way simpler than it actually was, being as complex as it is only natural for something like that, costing a huge prize at that:

Dr. Strange would send any of you who were on the brink of death through a portal, thus leading you into a random dimension of this endless Multiverse.

That dimension, in which your alternate self has most likely died, will gladly accept you as a “replacement”. Some kind of what Peter Parker called a “glitch” will occur, instantly healing all of your wounds - even fatal ones, so you could remain in the timeline that was missing you.

Yet the consequences of this maneuvre would be unspeakable.

_____

“That bastard...” you gnarled internally, finally realizing why you would remember this of all things after apparently having just taken your dying breath. “He didn’t just-”

Eventually, you realized having escaped death’s grip, slowly beginning to regain your senses - yet still refusing to open your eyes.

“I don’t want to leave this place. My friends -- will I never see them again? No. NO! Life is meaningless. Just let me be with him. Please! Loki...”

“’Cause you are, you are

The reason why I’m still hanging on

‘Cause you are, you are

The reason why my head is still above water

And if I could I’d get you the moon

And give it to you

And if death was coming for you

I’d give my life for you”

Another part of Strange’s lesson echoed in your head, revealing that you were now in fact up on your own.

“Not even I can tell just how much this timeline will differ from what you know. Of course I will search for you right away, but considering the countless possibilities, it might very well be that we’ll never meet again. But you’re alive, and hopefully safe. That’s all that counts.”

Grass tickled your palm as you twitched your fingers, testing the limits of your body, which had literally just tricked death. Suddenly, you felt a stinging pain, almost like lightning boring into your temportal. The origin of this pain remained unknown.

When you finally found the courage to sit up, your flesh still feeling as heavy as lead, you realized that Stephen was most likely wrong: He assumed that you’d find yourself in a place you had a deep connection with, yet that place was unrecognizable to you.

Then why were you here of all places?

Actually, this location was incredibly beautiful, managing to stop the aching in your heart, if only for the fraction of a second.

Your former lover would’ve loved this place.

“'Cause you are, you are

The reason why I’m still hanging on

'Cause you are, you are

The reason why my head is still above water

And if I could I’d get you the moon

And give it to you

And if death was coming for you

I’d give my life for you”

Even though not all of Dr. Strange’s speculations were correct, you decided to stick to his emergency plan: Find as much information about this “new” earth as possible, point out the differences to your initial one, and then contact the Dr. Strange of this dimension.

Two mages working on crossing each other’s path would at least higher the stakes to find your original timeline.

Well, no one could guarantee you that the Avenger’s existed on this timeline, and they could as well be evil in this one...what a weird and horrifying imagination.

Knowledge really was power - that was another thing Loki had taught you a long time ago, and it would prove valuable, especially in this situation.

As you wandered this surprisingly extensive garden and getting lost in admiring the beauty of it’s nature, you found yourself devoid of any weapons. That fact made you slightly uncomfortable, even though your current location seemed absent of any ememies, making a peaceful impression.

Seemingly there weren’t any evil schemes going on in this dimension.

It basically were only minor differences, at least that was your first impression. At least there were no changes in natural laws or something as big.

“I miss the days where magic and science didn’t mix up like this” you whispered, mainly to yourself as you examined the new, large scar on your abdomen - the only memory left of your “almost-suicide-mission”.

To be more precize: The only thing left from your former life, now leaving you able to start completely anew, wether you wanted it or not.

Sun had almost drowned behind the horizon, diving the sky in a deep orange. Your eyes were still adjusting, yet you could’ve sworn to see the silhouette of a person. It was far away, at the entrance on what appeared to be a palace belonging to this garden.

Apparently, you had invaded someone’s propery, and you could only pray that it was noone important - or worse, a owner who would defend their ground with violence.

You don’t think your earth had a place this...flashy. The castle was way bigger than any you knew on the other timeline. The first difference you had figured out, yet it was only a minor one.

Maybe the headache you were experiencing was from someone making you out as an intruder?

One thing was sure: You had been noticed, and you immediately were on high alert.

Where to run to or at least hide?

There was a maze made out of bushed parting you and the palace, and since there was no better option, you’d enter it. Talking to that person and convincing them of your goodwill would make it way easier to gain information.

“You may come out” you declared as you made your way, unable to evaluate the situation properly. “I mean no harm. I’m just lost.”

Was it dangerous to be here? Obviously, you were not allowed to be here anyway.

However, when you had finally found the escape to that maze, only several hundret meters away from the building, the person was already gone.

Had your mind just played a dirty trick on you again? Wouldn’t be the firt time it’d betray you like this...

No. You clearly felt someone watching you.

And as soon as your senses had sharpened to your usual self again, you instantly jumped back, gaining some distance to the Citauri that had just appeared behing you.

Shit! You weren’t ready to fight again just yet. Not like this.

And where one of those vile beasts were, many others would appear. You knew that much.

Had Thanos invaded this earth? Oh god, not again...not him. You were so damn tired of those fights, escapes and especially the pain that always inevitable followed after.

Just when it was about to swing it’s weapon at your head, you felt dizziness crawl up your nerves, making you collapse on the floor. Lucky for you, because only like that, the stike didn’t hit you.

Even though having been taught basic magic skills, that certain kind of spell you were unable to fight against - only true masters of the art were able to perform a sorcery that well.

The Chitauri had left your line of sight, yet the other figure from before reappeared in a pace so fast that your eyes couldn’t follow. They sweeped you off the floor just before your head would meet the hard pavement.

“And now you will answer to me, shapeshifter.”

Once again someone robbed you of the control of your life and body, leaving you without a free will.

How long had you been passed out now? You didn’t know and honestly didn’t care either - since you had nothing to lose anymore.

In the meantime, the owner of those lands had dismissed his guards, not wanting to be disturbed as he was left alone with you in the giant throne room.

The apparent ruler of that unclassified location was sitting on his throne, warily observing you from above. You were lying to his feet at the bare floor, every piece of clothing robbed from you and restrained by a pile of chains. He watched every twitch, all breaths you’d take or groans escaping your mouth until you would finally awake.

Oh, how you really were just like he remembered you, with every little detail he had adored.

At long last, you would finally open your lids again, blinking heavily as you took in your surroundings - but when your eyes met certain emerald ones, they immediately sprung wide open, the emptiness in your heart being filled with all kinds of emotions once again.

The man - it was him!

“'Cause you are, you are

Oh, you are

You are'Cause you are, you are

The reason why I’m still hanging on

'Cause you are, you are

The reason why my head is still above water

And if I could I’d get you the moon

And give it to you”

“Loki!” you screamed from the bottom of your heart. Without a single coherent thought, your legs would carry on their own as your weakened body stumbled in their attempt to climb those stairs.

For both of you, that momend of reuinion had waited far too long.

The god was temptated to approach you, his trembling hands already reaching out to catch your fragile body should you fall - but suddenly, you felt his knuckles digging into your cheekbone.

“Stay away from me, you fake!” Loki yelled furiously as you hit the ground, rubbing your cheek as you tried to understand what just happened.

Yeah, that sure brought you back to reality again, after such a short high.

Right.

That isn’t your Earth - and not your Loki either.

You couldn’t even be sure this world’s Y/N and Loki had the same kind of relationship the two of you had back in your timeline! The only thing you knew was that he knew you from his past, but as it seemed not pleasantly.

Now that you looked closely, he even had less scars, almost looking untouched and pure - like a true, invincible god. Maybe life here had treat him well, unlike his counterpart from your timeline.

He was still wearing that excessive outfit with the golden horns, and much to both your amazement and fear, it seemed that he still possessed theTesseract.

Could it be...

Before you could connect the dots, the king would soon interrupt your string of thoughts. “Drop that disguise, scum!”

Loki kept on degrading you as he paced in front of his throne, brow sinking deeper and deeper. “Don’t think you can somehow appeal to those pathetic sentiments” he explained, “I’ve freed myself from them long ago. Just stop making a fool out of yourself, and maybe I’ll reward it with a quicker death.”

Yet when he saw your most innocent smile, even this Loki would stand frozen in place, deeply in shock.

How he yearned to see it, all those years - to tell you just how sorry he was for everthing he’s done.

No.

He had left all of this behind - to claim his birthright and rule.

“I-I’m deeply so-sorry...that is a mistake” you whimmered with a broken voice, wiping a tear of joy out of your face. “My feelings overwhelmed me, I guess. I’ve never thought to see you again, even if you’re not the same Loki I know.”

Still cowering on the floor, you looked up to him with compassionate eyes, as if he had not just beat you before. You did not dare to make any more, wanting for Loki to try and understand himself.

“A variant?” he gnarled, just like you did when he realized.

No force in the world had allowed him to access other parts of the Multiverse, no matter how desperately he tried - and now fate had literally dropped you in front of his door.

Loki balled his fists in anger, making you flinch as you anticipated yet another blow.

“Dear, I-”

“Shut up!” the God of Mischief shoutet, causing his magic to break free. The walls of the palace were shaking, most windows and furniture having been destroyed. “It’s no use, woman!”

That man was way more powerful than the “puny god” people called names back on Asgard - and his sheer might made you quiver.

Just what kind of monster had he become, and why?

“L-Loki, please...” you tried to appeal to the last bit of humanity he might possess, and your begging made his guts twist in agony. “You’re scaring me.”

“You better be scared!” he exclaimed, grabbing you by the chin and forcing you to look at him. “No matter what disgracefully weak “alter ego” of me you knew, I am built different. Stronger. Better. Everyone in the Nine Realms fears me, and I desire nothing else! Everything distracting me from fulfilling my destiny and reign over you dull creatures I got rid of. You’re nothing more than an insect I might as well crush right here and now!”

Choking on a sob, he tried to relish that last chance he got to admire you, smell you, touch what he cannot possess...no matter how many universes there may be.

A flood of tears cracked down your face at his words, yet you couldn’t be helped.

No matter what he would say - he looked just like him.

And that was enough for you to feel alive after such a long time of being a walking dead. There had to be a reason you landed right at his home, of all places in this universe. You had a connection, both of you felt it ever since you had been transported here.

"May I ask-” you disrupted yourself, awaiting some reaction. But the conqueror had seemed to have spoken what he thought important to say, not declining your question at all.

Whenever he seemed fit, he could disintegrate you - yet right now, this situation was way too intriguing.

“What happened to myself in this reality?”

Loki swallowed harshly, letting go off of you as he threw you down the stairs. He wouldn’t even bide you one look as he tried to surpress the turmoil of emotion still running through his veins, desperately keeping it from breaking free.

The outcome would always be the same: Suffering, for both of you.

“And if death was coming for you

I’d give my life for you.”

He only ever wanted it to stop hurting. To become unfeeling, since love had always been poisoning his mind, sometimes being gifted with it even though he knew he would never be worthy of anything else than disgust and hate.

And that contradiction caused him to throw away anything good that happened to him, through you. Let it be taken away from him just shortly after finally learning to remotely enjoy.

You deserved the truth, a reason to hate him even more than you probably already did.

Had you only come to his salvation earlier, then he might have been helped - yet now, he was beyond redemption. Broken. Sick. Dangerous.

And when the Chitauri dragged you away, his last words let your blood run cold:

“She died through my hands.”

_____

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#Loki #Loki x Reader #Loki x You #Loki Laufeyson #Loki x Y/N #Loki / Reader #Loki / You #TW #Writing #Self Insert #Fanfiction..God of Mischief #Multiverse #Asgard #Midgard #Disney #Marvel #Avengers

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justanotherpersonsuniverse · 3 years

Text

Demon Alya: Ladybug learns the truth

“Hold on a minute,” said Alya as she scrutinized the billiard-ball sized object on the bed in front of her. It glowed with several different shades of purple that swirled around each other just slightly faster than was comfortable to look at. “This is a very difficult case.”

Sitting next to her on the bed, Juleka stifled a giggle. “What’s your prognosis, Dr. Alya? Am I going to make it?”

Alya grinned at that. “Your soul looks mostly fine,” she said. Her tail flicked in pleasure; Alya liked it when her ‘cult’ — or, as she had learned to think of them, her friends — were doing well, and Juleka was one of the closest friends she had. Alya’s wings fluttered a little too, creating a slight breeze which blew a few strands of hair into Juleka’s face. Juleka blew them back with a mock-grimace while Alya chuckled and then continued. “No blemishes or spots that I can see. Just a little agitation. And as for what might cause that…” An idea came to her. “Are you planning on asking Rose out later?”

Juleka blushed, her skin reddening to the point where it almost matched Alya’s devilishly-red hue, and the colors in Juleka’s soul began swirling even faster. “Maybe,” she admitted. “I’ve been, um, trying to build up the courage for a week or so, but it’s hard.” Her hair drooped over her face, and this time she didn’t try to push it back. “She’s so amazing,” Juleka went on. “And I’m—“

“Also amazing,” Alya cut in. “And I’m not just saying that because you’re the best high priestess ever. I know that Rose likes girls who are kind, compassionate, wise, and have a strong moral code—and you’re four for four. Forget that prohibition against angels dating humans; if you ask her out, I’m certain she’ll say yes.”

Juleka smiled a little, but she said, “Everything you say makes sense, but I just have trouble making myself believe it. It’s hard to feel it, you know?”

“Yeah,” said Alya, thinking about one of her other friends. She’d been hanging out at Marinette’s house a couple hours ago, listening to the girl excitedly detail the pastries she was going to make for a charity bake sale, and she’d found herself wondering once again if she could risk revealing her true identity. It would be so easy to let her demonic veil fall and show Marinette her true form, and surely Marinette was kind enough and non-judgmental enough that she’d be able to see past the horns, wings, flickering tail…

But if she wasn’t, if Marinette panicked at learning that Alya was a literal demon from Hell, then the friendship would be over. And Alya couldn’t risk that. Even if Marinette didn’t do anything else (like call Ladybug to banish Alya back to Hell for the next few eons), Alya would be devastated to go through her time on Earth without being able to call on her best friend. And so Alya had once again decided the risk wasn’t worth it, no matter how much she yearned to be able to tell Marinette about her true self.

But even if she couldn’t solve her own problem, she was sure she could help her High Priestess. “Let me try,” said Alya as she cupped Juleka’s soul in her hands. “I think I can calm your soul enough that you can at least ask Rose without panicking halfway through.”

“Thanks,” said Juleka with gratitude in her voice. Alya could tell that she’d been worried about losing her nerve at the worst moment.

Alya focused on Juleka’s soul, reaching out with her demonic senses until she could feel Juleka’s love-fueled agitation. Then she began to exert her will on it. “Yield to me,” she chanted in quiet Latin. “You who have entrusted me with your soul, yield and let me calm you…”

After a few minutes, the colors in Juleka’s soul slowed down a little, and Juleka took a breath. “I feel better,” she said as a smile crept across her face. “Seriously. Thanks.”

“No problem,” said Alya as she continued to focus on Juleka’s soul to make sure no traces of agitation could remain and screw things up for her later.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Juleka said. “You told me that demons usually use their soul-influencing powers to torment the people whose souls they take, as part of their torture. You know, like making them fanatically loyal and ready to sacrifice everything else for their demon, or driving them into fits of rage, or things like that. But you use your powers to make me and the other people in your cult feel better and be more functional. Do you have different powers than other demons? Could other demons act like you if they wanted?”

“They could; my powers aren’t unique to me,” said Alya as she inspected Juleka’s soul again and noted that it was now in perfect order. “After all, any of the things I’ve done for you guys could be used to hurt someone. Take right now: I just calmed you down, and that’s good, but another demon could calm the soul of a soldier to mellow him out so much he couldn’t be roused to defend his position, resulting in the bad guys overrunning it. Or look at yesterday. Aurore was still feeling a grudge against Mireille for beating her to get that TV job, and she asked me to help her get over it so she didn’t get angry whenever Mireille was on TV. I was able to use my influence over her to make her more forgiving and remove that blemish in her soul, and everything was fine. But another demon could do the same thing on a judge so that judge decided to ‘forgive’ criminals and release them, even knowing they were going to commit more crimes.”

Juleka inclined her head. “I see. But I guess most demons stick to the more obvious types of harmful influence? Making people angry, or greedy, or things like that?”

“Yeah,” said Alya. “The seven deadlies are classics for a reason. They usually work for tempting and damning people, and they don’t require a lot of knowledge—make a human really angry and he’ll usually commit a sin. So they’re useful for demons who aren’t interested in humans, the ones who just want to bag their quota of souls and go back to Hell.” She grimaced. “But those demons are idiots. And the idea of squishing all humans down to being a bunch of angry, greedy jerks is just… it’s ridiculous.” She shook her head. “I mean, I was taught otherwise and I even believed that at first when I showed up here, but that crumbled as soon as I met actual people.”

“Specifically, Marinette,” Juleka noted.

Alya blushed a little, but said, “Not just her. So many of the humans I’ve met are amazing, and I’d rather help you be the best humans you can be than turn you all into a bunch of psycho cultists. Yes, there’s humans who are already awful, and I’ve got no problem yanking their souls and doing all the traditional devil stuff to them. You guys heard what I did to that exorcist who tried to banish me, I’m sure. But corrupting someone like you, or Mylene, or Alix… taking away what makes you girls unique so you can become yet another generically-terrible person… that would just be wrong, no matter what my bosses say.” She paused. “If you girls are in my cult, if I’ve got your souls, I want to use that to help you. Not torment you.”

“Well, you’re a pretty amazing demon yourself,” Juleka said. “And we appreciate that.”

Alya beamed at that. “I do try,” she said in a faux-haughty voice. “And as long as my high priestess continues to supply me with regular deliveries of Dupain-Cheng pastries and anime to watch, I’m sure I shall continue.”

Juleka laughed, then stilled herself while Alya picked up her soul and gently pressed it against her chest. After a moment the soul slid in through Juleka’s shirt and body, and Juleka gasped slightly at the now-recognizable (but, somehow, never totally familiar) feeling of suddenly being more ‘herself.’ Once her soul was back inside her, she let out a happy breath and said, “I really do feel calmer now. Thank you so much, Alya. I think I can ask Rose out without panicking.”

“Well, if you need any help, you know who to call.” Alya hopped off the bed and stretched, her wings flaring out and her tail flicking backwards to poke Juleka’s nose. Juleka giggled and playfully flicked at it, and it recoiled for a moment only to dart in and begin tickling her under her chin. Juleka quickly dissolved into helpless laughter.

Alya glanced back and smirked for a moment before laughing herself, and it took a moment before either of the two girls could stop. Then Juleka managed to get up, a silly grin still on her face. “I’ll look over the souls,” she said as she motioned to the large shelf where Alya kept the now-considerable number of souls from her ‘cult.’ “See if anyone has any new blemishes or spots.”

“Just don’t mix them up,” Alya said. “I remember the last time my little sisters got in here and put them all out of order, and then when Mylene needed her soul back for the day so she could go to church, she accidentally got Chloe’s soul and spent the whole service calling the priest ‘ridiculous’ because he kept asking for donations to buy fancy artwork for the church but wouldn’t commit to using any of the funds for actual charitable causes.”

“I won’t,” said Juleka. She went over to the shelf and began looking at the souls. First was Chloe’s, which was yellow and orange and vaguely spiky (though the spikes were gradually shrinking as Alya and the others worked to bring the prickly girl out of her shell). Then came Alix’s, which was pink and almost vibrating with energy, to the point where it actually bounced if dropped or tossed against a wall. (Alya knew this because Alix had idly tried to dribble her soul one day, and it had bounced around the room until it bonked Alya in the head, at which point Alya had instituted a no-dribbling-souls policy). Next was Nino’s, a gentle blue ball in a comfy little doll bed and had tiny headphones playing Nino’s favorite music. And so on, down the line.

While Juleka looked over the souls, Alya gathered up a few dishes and went to put them in the kitchen. Technically, it was the job of her cult to do any chores that she needed done — and it was Juleka’s job to manage the cult and make sure that happened — but Alya didn’t feel comfortable making them do that. Besides, Marlena would get mad, and—demon powers or not—Alya knew better than to disobey her.

Alya entered the kitchen as she idly whistled a tune she’d heard on the radio. Her little sisters were over at Nino’s house, which meant that there should have been nobody in the house who didn’t know that she was a demon, which meant she didn’t need to bother with her veil. As such, she was in her full demonic appearance, with red skin, horns, wings, cloven feet, and a flickering tail as she rinsed off the dishes.

And then, when she turned around, she saw Ladybug staring at her.

For a few moments Alya didn’t believe it. Then her mind almost crashed as she realized what was going on — that one of the superheroes, someone who wielded the power of the kwami and was more than capable of banishing her to Hell for half an eternity, knew her true nature — and scrambled to find a way out of it. But none came to mind. Ladybug was staring at her, Alya Cesaire, in her demonic form.

A half dozen potential options for escape flitted through Alya’s mind, but none survived a second of scrutiny. Ladybug was fast, strong, fiendishly clever, and she could summon magic objects which always somehow managed to be whatever she needed to catch her quarry. Then Alya thought if there were any possible ways to fight Ladybug and win — if she could throw Hellfire, or Whisper distractions, or draw on her cult — only to dismiss those ideas too. This was Ladybug. She couldn’t win a fight against her. And besides, even if she somehow did, that would leave Paris defenseless against Hawkmoth. It would leave her cult—her friends—without protection from that lunatic.

And so Alya didn’t run or fight. She just lowered her head and whispered, “Please don’t banish me…”

“I wasn’t going to banish you,” said Ladybug.

Alya blinked. “You weren’t?”

Ladybug shook her head. “If I was, I wouldn’t have waited for you to notice me,” she pointed out. “I’d have zapped you from a neighboring rooftop.” A slight smile appeared on her face. “You’ve fought alongside me for how long, Alya, and you think I’d give someone a free shot?”

Despite everything, Alya couldn’t help giggling. “No, you don’t usually subscribe to the ‘that akuma needs to have a fair chance of killing me or else it’s not honorable’ school of thought. You’re more about wanting to win.”

“Damn right,” said Ladybug, which made Alya smile a little more. Ladybug returned a smile of her own, though it quickly faded. “So no, I’m not here to banish you. But I do want to talk to you. I need to know what you’re doing in Paris. And if you’ve…” She took a breath. “If you’ve done anything that, as a hero, I would need to correct.”

Alya nodded, but then something occurred to her. “You don’t seem surprised that I’m, uh, who I am,” she said. “How long have you known?”

“About two weeks,” Ladybug said. “Do you remember how Mayor Bourgeois signed that law to bulldoze that forest preserve and put up a shopping mall?”

“Yeah,” Alya said.

“I knew that a local girl named Mylene cared a lot about saving the park, and I was worried that she might get akumatized once Bourgeois crushed her hopes,” said Ladybug. “I went to her and found her just in time to see one of Hawkmoth’s butterflies touch that pin in her hair. Before she actually got akumatized, though, I could see her trying to fight it off. And I could… sense, I guess… something helping her. Something was trying to keep her calm and urge her to fight off Hawkmoth’s promises.

“Whatever was helping her, it was able to keep her from giving in for long enough that I was able to get to her, smash the pin, and purify the akuma.” Ladybug shrugged. “She thanked me and said she felt better, but I could tell she was still a little tense, and that whatever was helping her was still influencing her. So I tried to follow that magic, and it led me to your apartment, where I looked in through the window to see… well, to see you, looking like that, holding a lilttle rainbow-colored ball and chanting something at it.”

Alya frowned as she thought back. “Wait a minute,” she said after a moment. “Two weeks ago, right? I remember. I was home when I saw her soul begin flashing red and vibrating, like something was attacking it. So I tried to calm it down.” Then, despite everything, a tiny smile spread across her face. “You’re saying I stopped her from being akumatized?” she said. “I didn’t even realize that was happening, but… I’m glad I was able to help.”

Ladybug nodded. “You did. But Alya, I need to know why. I talked to my kwami afterwards and she said this isn’t normal for demons; they don’t usually stop destruction in the human world unless there’s some ulterior motive. But you did stop her. So: why?”

Alya hesitated. “I mean, Mylene’s one of mine, you know? She’s in my cult and she’s my friend. I have to look out for her. I don’t usually like messing with my cult’s souls without their permission, but if one of them’s about to self-destruct, I can’t just sit back and let that happen.”

“Why not?” pressed Ladybug. “Isn’t that why demons come to Earth? To lead humans astray, get them to sin, and ultimately take their souls to Hell?”

Alya’s mouth opened but no sound came out.

“Alya,” Ladybug repeated. “This is important. If there’s some weird demonic plot going on, then as the protector of Paris, I need to be aware of it so I can derail it.”

“I know, but… I don’t want you to think less of me,” said Alya softly. “You’re an amazing hero and a good friend.”

Ladybug smiled a little at that, then went to Alya’s side. “I don’t want to think less of you either,” she said. “And I promise you, whatever I think, it’s not going to be influenced by your species. So just be honest with me, Alya. Tell me everything.”

Alya paused, again torn. But she finally said, “Okay. I will.”

The two girls sat at the kitchen table and then Alya said, “When I first came to Earth, it was exactly like you said. My job was to collect souls and that’s all I cared about. I figured I’d just find people, tempt them, grab their souls, and move on. That’s what most demons do.”

“So what changed?” Ladybug asked.

Alya blushed a little. “You might think this is stupid, but I met someone. This girl in my class. Her name’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Ladybug froze, though Alya didn’t understand why. She was pretty sure Ladybug knew Marinette; after all, Marinette had used the Mouse Miraculous once, which presumably meant Ladybug had given it to her. Then Ladybug shook her head. “What about Marinette?” she asked.

“She was so kind to me,” Alya said. “I was new to the human world, I didn’t have any friends or connections, but as soon as I got to school—that was my cover, I was a local student—she befriended me and helped me fit in. And… look, I know humans are nice to each other a lot, but in Hell, that never happens. Everyone’s always out for themselves. The only reason someone down there would help me is so I would owe them a debt or a favor. But Marinette was just so compassionate, so kind, and she genuinely didn’t care about being paid back.” Alya smiled a little dreamily. “She was amazing. And she made me want to… to be different.”

“Different how?” Ladybug asked, still seeming slightly stunned.

Alya shrugged. “She’s the kind of person who can… inspire people to live up to her example, I guess. At least, she inspired me that way. I loved her kindness, the way she so obviously cared for me and for others without worrying about herself, and I found that I wanted to be like that too. I wanted to keep feeling the way I felt when Marinette was kind to me, or when I was kind to her. And also, the idea of doing the standard demon thing, of using twisted magic to warp some innocent person into committing a heinous sin so I could seize their soul… it didn’t feel right anymore. It felt awful. Cruel. I couldn’t bear to be like that, not after having experienced real human kindness.”

“So m—Marinette’s kindness helped convince a demon to stop tempting people?” Ladybug asked.

“Yeah,” said Alya with a little chuckle. “Seriously, if you haven’t met her, you should. I think you two would be amazing friends.” Then Alya paused. “But, um, it wasn’t just Marinette. I don’t want to sound like a stalker or something. I made other human friends too and they also helped me be better.”

Ladybug seemed to shake herself, as if breaking out of a stupor. “So you don’t take souls for your bosses?” she asked.

“I do,” Alya admitted. “But only people who have already committed serious sins. Criminals and the like, especially the ones the police haven’t caught yet. I get their souls so I can fulfill my quota and stay up here on Earth, and I don’t mess with them too much. Mostly I just influence them so they won’t work with Hawkmoth by making them too despondent to respond to his summons, or too paranoid to trust his promises, or other things like that.”

Ladybug blinked. “Wait, that’s you?” she asked. “So that’s why Hawkmoth never worked with felons and why he’s just picking random people who happen to get mad one day! I would have figured they’d be the most likely to join him! That makes a lot more sense than my prior theory.”

“What was your prior theory?” Alya asked.

“That Hawkmoth is an idiot,” Ladybug said.

Alya couldn’t help giggling at that. “Well, he did summon Mr. Pigeon dozens of times, so that wasn’t a bad theory,” she joked. “The man is not as smart as he thinks.”

“Nope,” Ladybug agreed. “Seriously, I mean, the guy has total control over the powers he gives people, and yet half of them are useless. What was Reflektra even supposed to do? Make us look ridiculous while we kicked his butt? How does that help him?”

Both girls laughed before Ladybug brought the conversation back around. “If you’re really just targeting people who have already committed serious crimes—and making sure they don’t commit more—then that’s one thing,” she said. “But I do know you’re collecting the souls of others as well, like Mylene. Why is that?”

“To make sure other demons don’t get them,” Alya said. “I’m not the only one here. And I can’t tell you who the other demons are—literally, I’m under a demonic geas that will set me on fire if I say their names to someone who doesn't already know them—but I can tell you they’re a lot worse than me. The other demons have no problem at all with warping innocent people into Hellbound monsters. But if I get the souls of my friends first, the other demons can’t lay their claws on them.”

“Hmm.” Ladybug gave Alya a long look. “I imagine you had to trick these friends into losing their souls at first.”

“Yes,” Alya admitted. “Some made deals—Mylene wanted me to resurrect her pet ferret, for instance--but others, like Alix, lost bets or fell into a minor temptation I set up. I didn’t love doing that, but if I hadn’t, they’d be in the clutches of a far worse demon.” She shuddered at the thought of what Lila would have done.

“Now that they know the truth,” Ladybug went on, “If these friends wanted their souls back so they could leave your cult, would you let them?”

Alya hesitated. “It hasn’t come up,” she admitted. “They aren’t hurt by losing their souls, except that they can’t go into churches or do a couple other ‘holy’ things. And I don’t use my power over their souls to make them worse. I try to help them when they ask for help, instead.”

“Even so,” Ladybug went on. “If Mylene went to you tomorrow and said she wants out, what would you do?”

Alya was tempted to just lie and say that of course she’d return Mylene’s soul, but she had a feeling Ladybug would be able to sense that. So instead she tried to give the question as much thought as she could to come up with her honest response. “I’d be worried about her, and I’d try to convince her otherwise,” she said. “But if Mylene was adamant, I’d give her soul back. Some demons treat their cults like slaves or prisoners, but I can’t do that.”

“Because Marinette would disapprove?” Ladybug asked.

“Not just that,” Alya said. “Maybe for the first few days after I met her, but I’ve moved past that. My ‘cult’ are my friends and I wouldn’t keep them against their will.” She let out a breath. “But again, it hasn’t come up. Honestly, I think they like knowing that if something goes really wrong and they become upset or angry, there’s someone looking out for them who can calm or polish their souls. Especially Chloe. Her mother is… not great, and Chloe has panic attacks when she’s around. She was really happy when I said I could monitor her soul and try to soothe it when her mother came to visit.”

Ladybug carefully considered that. “You wouldn’t mind if I didn’t just take your word for it, right?” she asked.

“I can give you a list of the people in the cult,” Alya said. “You can ask them for yourself. Plus my high priestess Juleka; I don’t keep her soul on my shelf, since she’s got both warlock and paladin powers to defend it with—long story—but she'd be happy to talk to you about what I'm like.”

“Thanks,” Ladybug said.

The two were silent for a moment, and then Alya asked, “So… what now?”

“Well, now I need to talk to your cultists,” Ladybug said. “But assuming they verify what you said… I don’t see anything here that I’d need to banish you for. As far as I can tell, you really are trying to be a good a friend, and you’re doing a good job of it too. As long as you don’t take any innocent souls, and you don’t do anything abusive to your friends in your 'cult,' I don’t need to get involved.”

Alya felt a wave of relief rush through her. “Thank the Devil,” she breathed. “I’m glad.”

Ladybug smiled. “Out of curiosity, is being banished that bad?” she asked. “My kwami said it’s not permanent and you could come back once the spell wore off.”

“That could take centuries,” Alya said. “All the humans I knew would be dead by then. I couldn’t bear to lose them, especially Marinette.”

“Maybe you could see her after she dies,” Ladybug noted. “Her soul has to go somewhere, right?”

“It won’t go to where I’m from,” said Alya at once. “Seriously, I peaked at her soul once when I was sleeping over at her house and…” She smiled wistfully. “It was so incredibly pure… the purest I’d seen. No, she’s Heaven-bound for sure, and I won’t be able to see her once she dies because I’m not allowed up there. So I just… I want to make as much of my time on Earth with her, and all my other friends, as I can.”

Once again, Ladybug didn’t seem to know how to respond for some reason. Alya, though, thought of something else she really needed to say. “Speaking of Marinette,” she said. “I… look, I loved having the chance to help you fight Hawkmoth as Rena Rouge. I’d give anything to be able to do that again. But if you can’t trust me because of… of this…” She gestured at her horns and tail. “If you need a replacement, I’d suggest you look at her. The girl’s heart is so pure I can’t imagine Hawkmoth ever corrupting her, and not only is she strong, but she’s incredibly clever. Trust me, she’d be a great hero.”

Ladybug’s cheeks colored slightly. “Thank—I mean, I’m sure she’d thank you if she’d heard that,” she said. “But like I said, unless I learn that something you told me wasn’t true, I don’t see any reason to take your powers away from you. I’m happy to have your help in the battle against Hawkmoth. In more ways than one, apparently.” She smiled. “In fact, once you give me the list of the people whose souls you have, if I learn that one of them is getting upset or is likely to get mad about something, I hope it’s okay if I text you and ask you to check on their souls.”

“Of course,” said Alya at once. “Anytime you need.”

Ladybug nodded. “You’re a good friend, Alya,” she said. Then she turned on her heel before pausing. “Ah, one more question. You said you took your friend’s souls to protect them. Why not Marinette’s? You don’t have her soul, right?”

“No, I don’t,” said Alya. “I thought about it, because I know there’s other demons who would love nothing more than to corrupt someone as pure as her. But I…” She hesitated. “If I took her soul, she’d know what I really am. And I can’t bear the thought of her rejecting my friendship over that. She’s… she means a lot to me.”

“I see,” said Ladybug. “Well, I won’t spill your secret, but I’d encourage you to tell her. I know her pretty well, and trust me: she might surprise you.”

Alya smiled, though inwardly she wasn’t sure if even Marinette could be that tolerant. Still, though, Ladybug’s word had a lot of weight. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said at last. “And I’ll also keep a close eye on Marinette. I might not have her soul, but if I see demons moving to attack her I’ll do everything I can to hold them off. And I’ve got my paladin/warlock high priestess to help, plus this angel I know. We should be able to keep her safe.”

“An angel?” Ladybug repeated.

Alya grinned. “Yeah. I know demons and angels aren’t supposed to get along, but this one’s cool.”

“I don’t suppose Marinette influenced her too?” Ladybug said in a teasing voice.

“Marinette seems to influence everyone for the better,” Alya said. “Marinette will never know it, but yes, I think the angel is happy to know her too.”

“Why won’t Marinette know it?” Ladybug asked. “Are angels not allowed to reveal themselves?”

“It’s more that they only do so if they’re smiting an evildoer, or if they need to save a human from temptation,” Alya said. But Marinette’s so pure that she’s not really in any danger of that, so I don’t think she’ll be getting any angelic intervention unless she spontaneously gets tempted to rob a bank or something.” She giggled. “Which really isn’t like her.”

Ladybug laughed too, though she seemed slightly disappointed for some reason. “I need to get going,” she said. “I’ll see you later, Alya. Thanks again for all that you do.”

Alya waved as Ladybug launched herself back out the window. Then, feeling a bit overwhelmed, she went back to her room to tell Juleka everything.

——

The next day, Alya found herself invited to the Dupain-Cheng bakery. “Hey, girl!” said Alya as she walked inside. “What’s up?”

“Alya!” Marinette said. She ran over and exchanged hugs with her best friend. “I just came up with some new pastries and I wanted you to be the first to try them!”

“Anytime!” said Alya. “What’cha got?”

Marinette took a few pastries off the shelf. “This one here is a Mexican chocolate cake,” she said. “I remember you saying you liked the spicier pastries, so I made it with a little cayenne pepper. Please, try it!”

Alya bit into the cake and grinned as the fiery sweet flavor danced over her tongue. “This is really good,” she said. “Seriously. And—“

“Oh, there’s also this other one,” said Marinette suddenly. She took down a donut. “I wanted to get back to my roots a little,” she said. “But I also wanted to make something you’d like. So this is a cinnamon donut with green and red chilis, the sort you find in Hunan cuisine.” She handed it over. “What do you think?”

Alya tried the donut and gasped, because it was possibly the best thing she’d ever tasted. The sweetness matched the peppers perfectly. “This is amazing,” she said. “Damn, girl, you know how to bake. Although, I thought you said you guys weren’t working too hard on developing spicy pastries because your parents didn’t think they’d sell well?”

“I’m going to prove Maman wrong about that,” said Marinette firmly. “Because people who enjoy spicier deserts should be able to get treats they love, just like anyone else. I’ll make spicy treats that are so good they sell just as well as everything else we’ve got.”

Alya blushed. Marinette really was one of the kindest people around, she thought.

“Besides,” Marinette went on, “even if these didn’t sell, it’d still be worth making some for you. After all, you’re my best friend.” She moved closer to Alya. “You’re an amazing person and a wonderful friend,” she went on. “I don’t think anything could drive us apart.” She gave Alya a quick hug. “Maybe I don’t tell you that enough, but it’s true.”

“Um.” Alya wondered if Ladybug had maybe hinted to Marinette about some of the conversation they had. “Right back at’cha,” she said. “I think you’re a great friend too.”

Marinette smiled.

Alya hesitated, on the verge of asking Marinette to go somewhere private so she could remove her demon veil… but she still didn’t feel quite confident enough. Someday, she thought. But not just then. “If I”m so great,” she said, “maybe you could let me have a few more of these?”

“Have the whole tray!” Marinette chirped. “But one thing in response: the concentration of chilis is slightly different in each one, so I need you to rank them. That way I know which one is the best one!”

“You’ve got it!” Alya grinned and reached for another donut. She was truly blessed, she thought, to have a friend like Marinette.

——

Later that evening, Marinette was in her room with Tikki, trying to relax after a long day of helping her parents in the bakery.

“I’m just saying, Tikki,” Marinette said quietly, though her voice was light and she was clearly joking. Well, mostly joking. “It would just be one bank. I might get to see an angel, and then I could give the money right back!!”

“No, Marinette,” said Tikki in a stern voice.

“It could be a bank owned by bad people!” Marinette went on. “It—“

“No, Marinette,” Tikki repeated.

Marinette smiled softly. “I guess you’re right. But I hope I get to meet that angel anyways.” She blushed. “I can’t believe that I convinced a demon to be good.”

“You’re a very special person, Marinette,” said Tikki.

Marinette grinned before settling back on her bed. The idea of having helped to make Alya the amazing, compassionate warrior for good that she was… well, it was stunning. It made her feel really good.

Of course, as Alya had explained, there might be such a thing as being too good. “What if it wasn’t a bank, but it was just some jerk like XY?” Marinette asked.

“Marinette!” Tikki complained before tossing a pillow at her. “No sinning just to meet an angel!”

Marinette giggled. “I know,” she said. “Still, it’s fun to dream.”

Across the neighborhood, Alya was also dreaming. “Someday,” she promised herself as she thought of telling Marinette the truth. “I promise.”

“Hey, Alya,” called Juleka from across the room. “We’re about to start the show. You want in?”

“Sure!” Alya said. She scurried to the couch and slid down between Juleka and Mylene. And then she settled back to watch the show with some of her best friends in the world.

-------

AW THAT WAS WONDERFUL

I loved that thank you!

Just imagining this is how the akuma charms are made, via Alya being a smart cookie and smart soul user. That was just so delightful

#submission #demon alya au

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angelicyoongie · 4 years

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the crimson shell

— pairing: jungkook x f!reader — genre: mermaid au, yandere au — w.c: 1.9k — warnings: mild stalking, near drowning, mentions of eating humans — notes: just wanted to contribute something to mermay! this is also my first time attempting to do anything in the realms of yandere (and mermaids!), so pls be nice lol. in this universe everyone is referred to as a mermaid, no matter what gender they are. this will most likely be a two or three part series with jk growing more and more obsessed as he gets y/n into his scaly clutches :)

Part I / II / III / IIII

— summary: you had always found comfort in being at the beach, often spending hours just watching the waves lap against the shore. but unbeknowst to you – something had been watching you back.

You inhale deeply, enjoying the salty smell that so uniquely belongs to the ocean. The last rays of sun are slowly disappearing behind the horizon, painting the skies and the waves in hues of deep pink and purple. You’re going to miss this view.

You sigh, running your fingers through the coarse sand as you let the gentle breeze caress your face. You’ve been looking forward to this for years, but now that your departure is so imminent, it feels more scary than liberating. The time has come to finally leave your home behind, and you feel a pang of regret as you realize you might not see your friends or family for a very long time to come.

Years of saving up your measly paychecks have finally paid off, and you’re setting sail for an island you’ve been hearing constant murmurs about for the last few months. Originally, you were only going to travel to the next kingdom over, hoping to find more suitable work there to help your parents stay afloat. But the talk of the mystery island abundant with riches piped your interest more than you would like to admit – and you’ve never been one to shy away from adventure.

However, you weren’t stupid enough to just blindly trust the rumours milling around your little town. In fact, you wholeheartedly believed it to be a scam until a familiar face suddenly turned up in the town square only a few weeks ago.

You hadn’t seen Jimin ever since he set sail for the unknown six months ago; and so everyone, including yourself, had presumed that your talkative neighbour had met an ill fate, and was floating at the bottom of the sea. You realized you couldn’t have been more wrong when Jimin returned with riches you never expected you would ever lay eyes on, his whole body adorned with various diamonds and gold chains.

It was Jimin who had urged you to seek out the same island, saying he barely even took a handful of all the treasures that were there. He had warned you about a price that would need to be paid, but you weren’t all that concerned. If a sea witch wanted your first born, then fine, you weren’t too keen on children anyway.

You busy yourself with drawing patterns in the sand, lost in your own thoughts as you try to remember your little mental checklist of all the things you wanted to see before you left tomorrow morning. You’re pretty sure this beach was the last one. It’s not much; just a short stretch of sand at the edge of the hill leading up to your family’s cottage, but it has always felt like home.

You come here every evening without fail, using the time to relax and breathe. The last month has felt a little different though, even if you don’t like to admit it. You’ve always stayed on the beach quite late, there’s nothing you know of that can rival the starry sky that appears once the sun had set. But lately, you’ve found yourself retreating back up the hill before the night could fully greet you.

It feels like you’re being watched.

It’s silly of course, considering the only thing in front of you is the quiet ocean. You would have noticed if there was something there, but still, you can’t seem to shake the feeling that something is out there – observing you.

It always happens so suddenly; one second you’ll be merely enjoying the view, and in the next, a sense of dread would knock into you so hard it left you breathless. It would make your neck feel tight, as if someone was gripping your skin, and the hair on your arms would rise in alarm.

Even just the memory is enough to give you goosebumps, and you let out an annoyed huff at how easily you seem to be able to scare yourself. You dust the sand off your hands before you rub them up and down your arms, trying to calm down the twinge of anxiety that’s slowly spreading through your body.

You don’t want to remember your last night here as something uncomfortable, so you let your gaze sweep over the beach one last time.

Something catches your eye just as you’re about to turn. Something red is ebbing and flowing along with the waves, and you hesitantly step forward until you can see it clearer. It’s nothing more than a pretty shell, but you’ve never seen that tone of red before. You snatch it up from the water before the tide can pull it out, slowly turning it back and forth to study it. The last sliver of light seems to catch on to it just right, giving the red a gorgeous golden shimmer.

You let out a low gasp of wonder, trailing your fingers along the scalloped pattern. It’s stunning, and you can’t help but think that it’s the beach’s way of saying its last goodbye. Maybe it was giving you a parting gift.

You clutch the shell gently in your hand, a soft ‘thank you’ slipping past your lips as you watch the ocean fondly. You notice a few sudden ripples in the quiet sea a little further out from the beach, but it has started to grow so dark that it’s impossible to make out anything below the soft waves. Chalking it up to just being fish, you shrug it off, finally turning on your heel to walk back up the hill to your family’s little cottage.

You’ve officially been on the sea for a week, and you’ve already grown tired. The small group of fellow villagers that you left with have already started getting on your nerves, and you’re not sure how you’re going to make it all the way to the island and back without going insane. Jimin said you would need to travel north for about two weeks, so you try to find solace in the fact that you’re halfway there already.

The journey so far has been pretty smooth, but the dark clouds on the horizon seem to be rolling towards you at an alarming speed. You dig into the pocket of your trousers, finding comfort in running your fingers along the shell you found on your beach. You can only hope it serves as a token of good luck, because the storm heading straight for you really doesn’t look good at all.

It feels like you only blink before the rain is pelting down against the ship, harsh waves tossing the wooden boat back and forth to its whims. You’re clinging on the side with all of your might, but the floor has turned wet and slippery, and it makes it even harder to stay on board with all the vicious tossing and turning.

You feel the electricity before it hits, the static making your hair stand up straight right before a bolt of lightning slams into the mast. You can barely hear the loud creak of wood over the screams from the other travellers, you gaze transfixed on the large wooden pole as it starts tipping.

You’re frozen in place; all of your muscles locking up in terror as you realize the mast is coming straight at you. You’ll be crushed in you don’t move, but you can’t. You close your eyes instinctively as the looming shadow rushes towards you, harshly sucking in one last breath of air. You feel the ship lurch, and your fingers slip from the bars you were clinging to as you’re tossed overboard.

A blanket of silence wraps around you the moment you hit the water, all of the screaming and creaking of wood suddenly ceasing as the cold liquid mercilessly drags you downwards. You can see the shadow of the ship growing smaller and smaller, your last breath escaping you as it bubbles up towards the surface.

You flail your hands desperately, your body too low on air to properly function. Swim, swim, swim! Your mind is screaming, but your heart has already accepted the rush of water filling your lungs, and the heavy feeling in your bones.

Your vision grows hazy, the blues and greys of the ocean blurring together. A streak of red suddenly breezes by your line of sight, but your tired brain only managing to provide you with the fleeting thought of fish? before the exhaustion truly sets in. You can hear a low series of muddled clicking noises all around you, but it only seems to make you even more drowsy.

Sleep, a deep voice whispers in the back of your mind. And slowly but surely, all of the mixed colours fade into nothingness.

It wasn’t that hard for the mermaid to steer your ship in the wrong direction. The ship was in his waters, under his control, and the storm that suddenly picked up in the northeast presented itself like the perfect opportunity.

He had been trailing after your ship ever since it left the dock, making sure he could strike at the right moment. He couldn’t believe the weird creature he had been watching for months was finally coming willingly to him, but it was only right considering you had accepted his courting gift.

And now, as you were sinking to the bottom of the sea, you were finally his. The mermaid circled you excitedly at a distance as your limbs flailed around underwater. He tried to tell you to calm down – that the fight against his ocean was futile – but you just wouldn’t stop trying.

The mermaid bristled in annoyance, his crimson tail cutting through the sea harshly as he watched the stupid creature fight a losing battle. He needed to take it home now, before his brothers could realize it was here.

Finally, your body stopped moving. The mermaid quickly closed in, strong arms wrapping around your torso as he stared into your unfocused eyes. While he didn’t exactly know what you were, and why you had one limb too many, he had at least gathered enough information to understand that you needed to breathe in that pesky air in order to survive.

He pushed up, letting the currents easily carry him up towards the surface. Of course, he made sure to emerge far from the sinking ship. While the gurgling screams usually were music to his ears – he couldn’t keep you too close to the food. His brothers would be here in no time to feast, and he couldn’t let his new pet be swallowed up before he even had a chance to play with it.

The creature sucked in a shuddering breath as oxygen finally flowed through its veins again. It didn’t take long before all his precious water was being expelled from the creature’s lungs, the mermaid watching in displeasure as it was replaced with that wretched air instead. It just seemed so .. inconvenient.

You didn’t wake however, the near drowning having swept away all of your energy. The mermaid threw one last look towards the remains of the ship, thin lips curling into a pout as the gurgling was replaced by bloody shrieks. He was hungry too, but it seemed like it would have to wait until his pet was out of harm’s way.

Well, at least until it was out of his brothers’ way. The mermaid didn’t like making promises he wasn’t certain he could keep.

#mermaid bts #mermaid au #mermaid jungkook #jungkook x reader #yandere bts #yandere au #yandere jungkook #jungkook au #bts au #bts fanfic #bts #yandere x reader

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nat-20s · 3 years

Text

what’s poppin everyone please have this fun lil writing warmup/short story inspired by me thinking “Dancing in the Moonlight” was definitely 100% about werewolves

~*~

“So, this your first transformation?”

The counselor? Leader? Tour guide? Asked this with a perfectly jovial tone, as if the typical social mores surrounding, ugh, lycanthropy, didn’t apply to her. They didn’t know what exact title to call her, and her name tag just said “Luna”, which, reflecting on it, either was a joke on her part or a reflection of her parents’ sense of humor.

Picking at the scabs from last month, they cringed and replied, “No. Uh. Second.”

Luna lets out a low whistle. “Oof. That sucks. Guessing you got bitten rather than inherited the ol’ wolfman gene?”

“That’s...kind of personal?”

Unlocking the front door of the log cabin that served as King Harvest’s Headquarters, Luna shrugs and says, “Shit, sorry. Forgot the whole weird stigma around your source of the once monthly nightmare, as if it fuckin matters. Also, I know, I know, ass out of you and me. Hey, you got any dietary restrictions? Gluten, peanut allergies, the like?”

Voice flat, they tell her, “I’m vegetarian,” and waits for the obvious response.

As they wander through the cabin towards the kitchen, Luna flipping on the light switches, generic club music starts to filter in. Instead of the obvious response, Luna asks, “You like veggie burgers? Or maybe pasta? I’d offer salad, but that’s really not gonna cut it for tonight.”

“I ate before I came.”

With a snort, she tells them, “Oh yeah? Did you have about 4000 calories?”

“No? Why would I have?”

Sweeping out her arm, she gestures at the food laying out on the counter and tells them, “Then eat up! 4000 is really a minimum for the night if you don’t want to feel like someone physically beat out all of your energy in the morning. 6000 is more the target area, but we got, hmm, about 15 minutes before things get uncomfortable, and half an hour max before things get dire.”

They glance down to the food, and, admittedly, the broccoli alfredo does look pretty appealing. Still, they have to ask, “Is this a cult?”

Luna lets out a bark of a laugh that has nothing to do with her (maybe) being a werewolf. “Okay, first of all, what kind of cult is like ‘fuck yeah, we’re a cult’? Secondly, despite the first thing, I can say that we’re not a cult. I know how “King Harvest: Center for Movement Therapy” sounds, both clinical and vague enough to be suspicious as hell, but I didn’t come up with the title, blame my long deceased dad for that one. Plus, ‘King Harvest: Bitchin’ Wolf Dance House’ probably wouldn’t look good on the grant applications.”

“Grants?”

“Oh yeah. This bad boy’s been publicly funded since its opening in 1972. Hence no membership fees.”

“Is that why animal control is giving out your business card? Are they one of your sponsors?”

“Nah, that’s just Jack. Me ‘n’ him go way back, hell, to his park ranger days. I mean, yeah, I think he’ll campaign for us, but mostly I think he just hates capturing a wolf in the night only to have a naked, trembling human in the morning, and he knows that our program significantly reduces the odds of that happening, at least in this neck of the woods.”

They let out a hum, then glance back down to the food. As appealing as it down look, they’re still about..30% convinced this is an elaborate organ harvesting operation. Or sketchy sex thing.

Apparently sensing their hesitation, Luna says, “You got a favorite chip?”

“Salt and vinegar.”

Grabbing a sealed family sized bag from the overhead cabinets, Luna tosses it to them. “If you come back next full moon, either eat enough in advance or have a real meal here. That being said, excuse the turn of phrase, you should wolf that down. It’s sure as hell better than nothing.”

They catch it, and the bag opens with a puff of air that speaks to a reassuring lack of tampering. As they toss a chip into their mouth, Luna grabs a water bottle from the fridge and places it down next to them. “So? Any questions for me? We’ve still got about ten minutes before we have to go out there.”

Rolling their eyes, they tell her, “No. None at all.”

“Great! Soon as you’re done eating we’ll get you started.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“Yeah, no shit, smart-ass. Seriously, what are your, we haven’t got much time.”

“I don’t know? The whole..thing? I mean, how is it supposed to..work? Like? At all?”

“You ever see Amok Time?”

“Is that relevant?”

“It’s a yes or no question babe.”

“And if I say no?”

“Then the explanation is going to be a lot more technical and take a lot longer, ultimately to likely make less sense.”

“...I’ve seen it.”

“Great! So, Pon Farr is basically this chemical blood imbalance that results in fuck or die disorder, yeah? But then Spock neither fucks nor dies, and eventually the vulcans get their shit together and find out that an intense fight can serve the same function, and the blood fever chills out. Lycanthropy operates on a similar enough basis for comparison. You’re compelled to act out on energetically heavy base instincts, returning to the ways of the wolf or whatever. Traditionally, that’s done through running and hunting, which has, historically, been a crapshoot at best. Theoretically, sex can also get the job done, but I’m sure you can imagine how that gets extremely dicey extremely quickly. Either restraints or isolation has been implemented for a while, but, c’mon, they’re bandaid solutions, and they’re far from foolproof. Luckily for us all, my grandmother decided to connect back with her ancestors, and there was a handful of stories having huge festivals to deal with ‘moon violence’. She tried it out, and, yeah, dancing works.”

“That sounds…”

They don’t know how that sounds. Made up, mostly.

“Like a bunch of hippie bullshit? Yeah, it kind of is, Grandma Josephine was a huge hippie, but it’s hippie bullshit that works. In fact, let’s go see the others, it almost always makes things clearer.”

Figuring that whatever they’re about to see can’t be worse than their transformation last month. They head through the sliding glass door out the back, the thump of the music suddenly loud enough to be felt in their chest. The sight that awaits them makes them drop their chips and let out a gasp. Barely able to speak, they exhale out, “None of them...they’re not wolves. How..how??”

Indeed, the roughly forty people jumping to the pulse of whatever they’re listening to (some to the in house DJ, some, apparently, to what’s playing over the large headphones they have adorned), resemble the image of a wolfman much more accurately. They bare claws, fangs, elongated snouts, upright ears, and serious amounts of hair, but they’re on two legs, and moving like humans. Some of them are even singing along to the lyrics, which really shouldn’t be possible.

Luna grins, making it obvious that she’s used to this level of shell shocks. “Ultimately, you do have to give into some damn rigorous instincts. But dancing is a human instinct, not a canine one, so you end up, well, humanoid. Pretty nifty, huh?”

“And they all..they all keep their minds? I didn’t...they don’t blackout?”

“Not since we banned alcohol in the 90s! Here, watch this.”

Luna nods her head at the DJ, and the DJ, obligingly, turns down the music for a moment. The members of the crowd not listening to their own music pause, then look towards the door. She cries out, “Hey gang! HOW WE ALL DOIN’ TONIGHT?”, and gets a mix between a howl and “WOO!” cried back. The DJ then turns the music back up, and the general movement of the crowd resumes.

They should be more skeptical. They want to be more skeptical, they were just minutes before, but it’s hard to disagree with something right in front of you. “This will work for me? I just..have to dance?”

“Well, it’s not guaranteed. Few things are. But we have yet to have someone turn violent on us. If you start to fell yourself slipping from consciousness, though, I do ask that you start heading further into the woods, as to not hurt other guest. If you find yourself just getting tired, there’s beds inside, and a fair amount of pillows around the edge of the quote unquote dance floor, if you end up in more of a nesting mood. Also, I recommend taking off your shoes before you start.”

“What? Why?”

Luna gives a pointed glance at the dancers’ feet, which, ah. They’re about twice as large as normal and at least twice as sharp. The converse on their feet would be no match. “Ah.”

“Ready?”

They shove off their shoes and place the remainder of their chips aside. “As I’ll ever be.”

Good thing, too, as they’re starting to feel an uncomfortable pressure in their chest that was the prelude to disaster last month.

Luna strides to the center of the dance floor, which is really a plush lawn surrounded by forest. The crowd naturally moves around her, and she yells out, “Aiyana! Play my song!”

Aiyana gives a nod, and the opening notes of “Dancing in the Moonlight” start to sound out. “Seriously?”

Luna shrugs, grinning like a fool, and says, “It’s a classic!”

“It’s cliché at best.”

Luna shrugs, and then begins dancing. She’s hardly elegant, but she is dazzlingly joyful in her uncoordinated movements. As the song reaches the first chorus, she gives a twirl, and in the split second it takes, she’s transformed. They blink in shock, not knowing you could transform that seamlessly, that quickly, that painlessly. Luna in half wolf form is just as expressive as the human Luna, and she gives a nod over her shoulder as if to say Come on.

Feeling somewhat foolish, they start to bop their head to the tune. Luna lets out a huff and grabs their hands, spinning them around and forcing them to get moving. At first, it’s them indulging Luna, but as they let themselves get lost in rhythm, they feel a stretching sensation in their face and limbs. It’s not unpleasant, more like when you wake up and work out the tension in your spine. They open their eyes and look down at their hands, now covered in fur in and made for slashing. It didn’t hurt. It didn’t hurt, and they’re still themselves, and they had no idea that full moons could be like this, maybe for the rest of their lives.

They turn their head to the night sky, and their body can’t help but continue to dance. Despite all their fear, all their dread, “movement therapy” worked, and they can admit, at least to themselves, that they feel warm and bright.

#my writing #nats journey into writing short stories based on 70s songs continues lmao

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wallwriterstuff · 4 years

Text

Our Dearest Moments ||Alec Volturi x Reader||

Warnings: None, this is nice and fluffy

Words: 2964

Summary: A request for @royalvolturisblog Forever is a long time to live, an occasionally a little reflection upon who we are and how we got here is needed to maintain our sanity, and decided some very important answers to equally as important questions.

Sometimes, life is not all we expect it to be. Sometimes, life is cruel. Sometimes, life is disappointing. For me? I can safely say it’s none of these things. My life had always been easy, the best of everything and wanting for nothing. As doting as he was, my father had spoilt me rotten and never let me work hard for anything, never given me life skills that most normal people would need to live a functioning, adult existence. Why would I need them? Money was not a problem for my family nor would it ever be, so why go to the hassle of building a life where a nine to five job sapped the life from me when I could, quite sustainably, simply enjoy my life to its fullest at my loving father’s expense? Why make your child work if there was no need? I would not settle for a subpar life as nothing in my life had ever been less than luxurious.

That was my life in a nutshell. It was flat screen TVs in a ginormous bedroom which would have fit some people’s houses inside it, four poster beds and every new games console, every makeup palette fresh off the manufacturers line and vacations to the most remote and lavish corners of the Earth. I never even had to ask for some of it, my father simply expected I would want things and provided them without request – as those of guilt soul are wont to do.

“Well? What do you say?” Alec asked, his lips pressing the gentlest of kisses against my shoulder. I hummed, leaning back against him.

“Forgive me, I was hardly listening to a word you said, my mind is…elsewhere.” I admitted. Alec squeezed my hips, arms widening around my waist to tighten his hold on me.

“You’re ignoring me now? How very rude. I thought we were passed this.” He chided, though his tone was more playful than scolding.

“Call it introspection.” I sighed. Alec chuckled.

“Introspection? Now that sounds dangerous. I happen to like you as you are, if you haven’t noticed.” He teased, pressing a kiss to my temple. I turned in his arms with a smile. He stood a little taller than I did but I didn’t mind; it always gave me the best angle of the soft curve of his jawline, the fullness of his lips that didn’t like to stray from my own for too long. It also gave me the perfect excuse to nestle my head against his collarbone, escape those all seeing crimson eyes of his. Alec had seen right through me from the very start.

“I happen to know, you inform me every day…you sap.” I smiled a little as he lifted a hand to play with my hair.

“Then why decide to be introspective? What is there to reflect on? What would you wish to change?” he questioned.

“I already have changed,” I pointed out, lifting my hand to play with his coven crest, “I actually work for a living now.” Alec actually laughed at that, pulling back to feign shock.

“You? Spoilt? I would never have guessed.” he teased. He wasn’t wrong. Even now my room was lavish, silks and fine fabrics and luxuries filling every corner, but at least this time I had worked for it. Being a part of the Volturi was a privilege in itself but it required hard work, it required proving your worth and working for the greater good of your species. It was rather odd, how I had turned my entire life philosophy around in the span of a few centuries. Maybe it was Alec, making me humbler and wiser. Perhaps I owed some of it to Vladimir and Stefan, who had taught me to fight for what I wanted rather than throw money at it. I could still remember that fateful day, though faces and names were murky now in my ‘old age’.

Samuel and Scott were two boys I had craved the presence of a lot in my human days, though I couldn’t honestly tell you why anymore. Perhaps it was the familiarity of money, or the comfort that came from knowing someone of your status and experience walked alongside you and understood your world view, but they were the closest friends I had for a long time. What was better than going on vacation with your friends at the closing of exam season? Rome had been beautiful, the sights enamouring and the food…I suppose it was okay – my tastebuds had changed since then. I could still vividly recall the kind of heat I wasn’t accustomed to back home, and the dazzling brightness of the sunlight that spotted my vision and made my ever blurry human memories seem even worse quality somehow. I also remembered laughter, and warmth, the kind of warmth that flooded your soul and felt like a good hug on the worst of days. It was strange, the things that stayed with you.

Then there was too much warmth. The process to immortalise one’s body came at the cost of burning the eternal soul till only a shell was left behind, petrified and cold. That was how Stefan put it at least in his usual, grim way. The memories of my time with them had most certainly been the most vivid, since I was very much a vampire by then and I could remember every little glance, every change in the tone of their voice. Those days….those days were full of anger. My doting father taken from me, my best friends none the wiser as to where I had gone and yet never once pleading on the news for my safe return as most others did for their loved ones. Through time and trial and error, Vladimir and Stefan had shown me that I had actually lost nothing in this life, only gained. I was stronger, swifter, better than any human version of myself could ever be.

Then came the gift.

It had been purely accidental at first. Another boy taken in by Stefan only to be turned (in what I would later find out was an attempt at raising a small army) was similarly gifted. He had the quite remarkable ability to make anything he touched smaller or larger, depending on what he wished it to look like, and unintentionally I had taken his gift to use for myself. He hadn’t stayed much longer after that, Vladimir and Stefan reluctant to let him part but allowing it – only because they knew the Volturi would send the Guard after an unruly newborn causing havoc. Why should they need him when they had me? They had been the ones to train my gift, an enhanced trait from my human life they had said – as I had taken what I wanted then I could do so now with startling efficiency. By the time Alec had arrived I had not truly gotten it under control, hence my confrontation with Jane.

It turns out the unruly newborn had been smarter than we thought, and the Masters’ had dispensed the Guard to see about this gifted vampire the Romanian’s had collected. At this point it had been months since we’d even seen the boy, years since Vladimir and Stefan had stolen me from Rome’s streets on one of their daring missions taking them close to Volturi territory. My gift had made me indispensable to them, though I like to believe that on some level they cared for me as a person, given all the gifts and birthday celebrations they had indulged in for me. There had been trips and movie nights all at my request, and affectionate gestures such as hugs and chaste kisses to my forehead that had lulled me into the false sense of security that I was where I ought to be.

“Your mind keeps wondering. I happen to be trying to ask you a very important question.” Alec was sounding a tad frustrated with me now and my eyebrows furrowed.

“I’m sorry, really, I just…do you ever have one of those days where you feel like you can’t escape thinking about the past? Thinking about the things that led you to this moment?” I sighed. It was perhaps a tad dramatic, perhaps even silly of me to be this distracted by such errant thoughts, but they wouldn’t leave me be. Alec stared at me for a long moment, and then he tucked a lock of stray hair behind my ear and swept me off of my feet to seat us on the sofa before our fireplace. Draped across his lap as I was, he had made me his sole focus and gave me his undivided attention now.

“I can’t say I do, so explain it to me. What are you thinking of in particular?” he questioned. My head tilted slightly, the briefest of smiles tugging at my lips.

“Demetri fixing up his nose the day we met.” I giggled. Alec snorted, eyes rolling.

“Vladimir did hit him rather hard.” He agreed. The commotion hadn’t much bothered me, my head buried too deep in my book to really be bothered by such trivial things, but then he had screamed. It was a blood-curdling kind of scream, the sort you heard in slasher movies when the victim is disposed of. It was the first time I had seen Jane’s gift in action, and the only time since I had stolen it. I had only meant to shove the menacing little blonde away from the man I had grown to see as a second father, only to accidentally set her own gift on her. She had crumpled like a straw doll, screaming all the while, and anyone else who came at me went down the same way.

Felix, Demetri and Jane just writhed on the stone floor while I tried and failed to keep Alec at bay, the mate bond I had unknowingly just set with him the moment we locked eyes preventing me from hurting him and vice versa. His mist had danced at the edges of my feet as he gave me more warnings than I was sure was customary of a Guard with his reputation until I managed to calm the raging inferno in my own mind, and douse the flames in theirs.

“Then you misted me.” I recalled, scowling at him slightly. Alec looked amused.

“You were getting rather violent,” he pointed out, “I’d merely suggested an even trade, their lives for you accompanying us to Volterra, and poor Demetri lost his nose a second time that day.” I could still recall the crunch of his skin beneath my knuckles as I vowed to never let them take me anywhere, and now two centuries on I couldn’t bear the thought of being anywhere other than in Alec’s lap. His hand skimmed my arm as I dropped my head on his shoulder.

“You think he would forgive me for that by now.” I said. Alec chuckled and kissed my forehead.

“Not in a million years, his ego is more fragile than his nose.” He murmured against my skin. I hadn’t been happy for a very long time after that. Dragged away from my home against my will and told it was all for a mate bond I hadn’t been ready to accept. I was cruel, very cruel, and I called Alec all sorts of filthy names. Neither him nor Jane had ever really done me wrong, yet still I rarely addressed them as anything other than ‘witch’ or ‘terrors 1 and 2’. I spent the majority of my days avoiding as many people as I could really, though I found Marcus to be quite calming and consequently ended up with the Masters’ more often than not. It was with their encouragement I ended up confronting my two-arch nemesis, their gentle prodding that had led me into Alec’s arms in the end.

“God I’m sure your mother would weep if she could see you now!”

“She did! She wept and pleaded with the villagers tying us to the stake until they caved her head in with stones. How about yours?”

I cringed slightly, the memory as fresh as if it had been just yesterday. Jane had looked ready to roast me that day, while Alec had cut me down to size with his words. Their mother’s fate, their deaths, they were nothing such of tragic incidents that should never have occurred, not to these two. It had triggered a memory I had thought had faded as most other human memories had, though I could see no eyes in the soft, familiar features of my mother’s face given I couldn’t remember the colour of them. She had been reaching for me in my dreams for years, that single bloodied hand protruding from the wreckage of a car only I had escaped from haunted me to this day. How far I had strayed from the woman she would have wanted me to become.

“How could you forgive me?” I asked finally. Alec raised his eyebrows.

“For punching Demetri in the face? Quite easily. I found it entertaining.” He answered.

“Not for that! For…everything else. I was nothing short of difficult and downright cruel to you.” I reminded him. Alec tilted his head, quietly making a noise of understanding. It wasn’t so long ago Alec had asked me to marry him, at least, five years didn’t seem all that long for a vampire. He shifted till I was facing him, straddling his lap and chest to chest with our noses almost touching.

“I forgave you because I loved you, even then. I didn’t see cruelty, I saw hurt that never truly healed. Our scarred hearts were made for one another, even if you weren’t ready to accept it.” He murmured.

“But all those awful names I called you…” I sighed, closing my eyes as shame ate away at my insides. Alec chuckled.

“Some were quite inventive, I’ll give you that,” he said wryly, “Y/N…you replaced every bad memory with a good one. The time you gifted me that bookmark because you knew how much I loved to read? The memory of our first walk in the Garden’s together where you taught me all about gardening and when the best time of year to plant certain flowers was. Our first kiss, the first time you held my hand even. You made the effort to make it right.” He kissed my nose sweetly before capturing my lips with his. His every kiss had been intoxicating since our very first one, the sweet taste of his mouth on mine addictive, the way his lips moved a hypnotic dance I could forever get lost in performing with him over and over. When we parted I pressed my forehead to his.

“I do love you, you know.” I swore. Alec flashed me a smile.

“I know, you impossible little brat,” he teased, tugging my hair lightly, “Now will you please listen to what I’ve been so desperately trying to ask you all day now?” My eyes rolled, but I nodded.

“Make it worth my while, baby.” I teased.

“Don’t, you know I hate when you call me that,” he warned, though his lips twitched upwards, “Y/N, my impossibly stubborn, talented little beauty. I’ve never been in doubt you love me, and I hope I’ve never given you reason to doubt that I love you just as much. You challenge and enrage me daily, yet you are also my greatest comfort and strength when I need you to be. So stop being so bloody awkward and marry me already!”

“That wasn’t a question.” I pointed out, eyebrows raising. Alec groaned exasperatedly, his head falling back against the back of the sofa. My head tilted slightly.

If my day of reflection had done anything, it was show me how far I had come. I was no longer the same spoiled little girl I had once been. I had become a protector of our kind, and my journey with Alec had humbled my tongue. I was perhaps wiser, far kinder. I had not felt worthy of the mantle before but seeing him beneath me now, my love so ardent in his affection and persistent in his showing of it, I realised I had no need to be afraid – I had proven my worth to Alec tenfold. Gripping his chin, I forced him to look at me. He looked rather frustrated.

“This is the modern era Alec,” I scolded, “I will never say yes to your proposal.”

“But-“

“Because you are going to be saying yes to mine. Marry me, Alec.” I didn’t ask, more stated it. I knew he wouldn’t say no. With another exasperated groan he shook his head.

“You do make me work for it don’t you? So long as I slip a ring on your finger I really don’t care who asks who. Fine, I’ll marry you.” He leaned in but I pressed a single finger to his lips, preventing him from kissing me. His eyebrows arched into his hairline, almost as if to say ‘what now?’.

“It’ll be a Winter wedding.” I decided. A brief smile flashed his lips upwards.

“Spring.” He retorted.

“And the bridesmaids will wear emerald green.” I continued.

“Peach.” He countered, his smile growing as I pulled my finger from his lips.

“Oh and I want diamonds Alec, they’re a girls best friend.” I grinned, our noses brushing now.

“You’ll get a cereal box ring and be happy with it for all the waiting you’ve made me do.” He huffed. I didn’t get to protest, not when he smothered my mouth with his own, both of us laughing as we let the past be and looked forward to our future instead.

#twilight #twilight fanfiction #volturi #alec volturi #x reader #alec volturi x reader #vladimir #stefan #the romanians #dracula 1 and 2

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forsakenoathkeeper · 4 years

Text

I Am Alive (chapter 13/?)

Chapter 13: Shattered Porcelain

Deviant!Connor[RK800] x (fem!)Reader Rated M(18+) for canon-typical violence and gore, medical procedures, and graphic sexual content

Chapters: 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • more coming soon

You can also read on AO3 & thank you for supporting me ♥

Author's notes:

There are a handful of android medical procedures in this chapter. Could be uncomfortable if you're squeamish. I'm not an expert with the lore. So, I tried to have it fit with DBH's android anatomy; but, if I'm being honest, I pretty much made this up as I went along.

Also, this chapter is super cheesy with lots of cameos.

...

The place Connor brought you to was a rundown building that looked like it was an apartment complex once upon a time. The sight left a sinking feeling in your gut, mainly because androids were living in this squabble and there was nothing you could do about it.

You followed behind Connor, who had a death grip on your hand. He was likely more afraid than you were. You placed your free hand on his shoulder to try to urge him to relax. You were ready to tell him as such; however, when you crossed the threshold into the place he called 'Haven', the words died on your tongue.

The floor was bare concrete and the walls were decades behind on a much-needed paint job. The place somehow had electricity, likely from a makeshift generator. At the least, there were some functioning lights; but, they were all covered in dust with dead bugs lining the interior fixtures.

The androids had cleared out the center to make room for the supplies Kamski had wrangled up. They were neatly organized across several crates acting as tables. As soon as you stepped in with Connor, many eyes landed on you, ranging from nervous to distrust.

Their states ranged from pristine to chipped to severely damaged, limbs missing, sauntered poorly to prevent thirium loss. Many of them had stitched together mismatched parts to try to regain some semblance of order. You couldn't imagine what that must have felt like.

You nudged at Connor's forearm until he got the message and let go of your hand. He remained close, his presence looming and protective.

Markus was quick to make himself known. "Thank you for all of this," he said, gesturing to the supplies in the center of the room. "Really I... I don't know how to properly thank you."

"I-it wasn't from me," you said, feeling nervous. "More of a messenger, really."

Your eyes swept the floor, where some androids stared at you with abandon and others were trying not to stare. You swallowed nervously, not knowing where to start, if any of them even wanted you touching them.

Some androids had already taken to the supplies and were patching each other up. Androids might have been more knowledgeable about their own anatomy than humans often were of themselves; but, not all problems were simple.

An android pushed his way through the crowd and approached you with haste.

"It's you," he said, a beaming smile on his face.

You and Connor recognized the android immediately. He had been driving a Cyberlife supply truck that was attacked by protestors. You had pulled him out of the wreckage and saved him.

"When they said a nurse was coming, I was hoping-" he cut himself off, sounding choked up and excited. "If it wasn't for you, I'd be dead," he proclaimed. His words eased the tension that had been building up inside you and left you bubbling with pride. You didn't know what to do but to smile at him.

"C-can you-" he stammered. "We have someone who's very damaged."

"I'll do my best," you replied, trying to mask how nervous you felt. You squeezed at the handle on your shoulder bag, the weight of your tools suddenly feeling much heavier.

The android ducked back into the crowd with haste.

You were shocked when he returned with another android in his arms. It was immediately obvious to you that the android was shut down. He was limp, eyes open and staring ahead blindly, LED on his temple off, a stoic expression on his face.

He was an WR600 model, still wearing his factory default uniform. However, he had a tarp wrapped around his shoulders, wearing it like a poncho.

The artificial skin on his hands and wrists had been scraped down to the android shell beneath. He had a gaping wound on his right forearm that went beyond the shell and exposed the membrane beneath. It was pulsing blue, indicating he was still functioning.

You followed them to a makeshift table, where the android set the WR600 model down carefully. As you maneuvered around to get a better look, the left side of the unconscious WR600's face came into view, and you audibly gasped.

Someone had struck him, hard, multiple times, across the face. His jaw was indented, skin scraped off to expose the pale white shell underneath. The cuts were so deep that the blue membrane beneath was exposed. Cracks split out from the gashes, like shattered porcelain.

The damage had shattered the protective sheathing on his right optical. Thirium had leaked into it, staining the entire eyeball blue. The gashes ran up into his hairline and one ran low enough to split at the corner of his lip.

You had seen androids looking far worse than this before; but, still, you never got over it.

"W-what-" you stammered, silencing yourself when you realized how pointless it was to ask.

It was obvious what had happened.

"Why is he powered off?" you asked hesitantly, looking up at the android who had carried him over to you. Your first assumption was that something was very wrong with him.

"We had to force him offline," the android replied, not looking proud of that. "He was... erratic."

You wondered if he meant the android was erratic when he heard a human was coming, or if he was always like that. Considering the damage, you wouldn't have been surprised if it was the former.

"I - uhm," you stammered nervously. "I need someone to be his guardian - to consent to this, since he can't. Are you close?"

The android looked uneasy, but also touched by your words. "He's not close to anyone."

You swallowed nervously and did your best to keep your gaze off the room and focused more heavily on the WR600. You hadn't worked on an unconscious android since before the revolution. The thought made your stomach churn.

Sensing your frustration, Connor approached you. His concerned face came into view in the corner of your eye.

'You don't have to do this,' is likely what he was going to say.

Not wanting to give him the chance, you said, boldly, "I'm okay, Connor."

He looked uneasy for a moment, LED solid yellow, as he tried to fight himself on this. You being here made him really uncomfortable; but, he knew how much this mattered to you. Part of him also knew that these androids needed this. It wasn't just for repairs, but to give them some hope that humans like you existed in this world.

When Connor stepped away, you rotated over to the powered off WR600.

"What's his name?" you asked as you set your bag down carefully and unzipped the top.

"Ralph," the android who had carried him over answered.

After pulling out some tools, you reached around the back of Ralph's ear to open his access panel. With a heave, you lifted him by the shoulder to gain access to his upper back and easily found the release for his skull.

His appearance was alarming; but, you were more concerned with the high possibility of damaged internal components.

As expected, one of Ralph's processing units was cracked. The good news is that it was a common model, and one that Kamski had supplied dozens of.

You investigated his eye next. As soon as you opened the socket, thirium leaked out and spilt all over the table. It wasn't enough to concern you, and you carefully removed his optical unit. Upon a closer inspection, you were confident it was still operational.

With a free hand, you yanked a clean container out of your bag to set the optical unit it so you could investigate the sheathing. The gold platers on the connector were still intact; but, the sheathing closest to his temple was cracked. Luckily, it could be repaired the same way you intended to repair the dents on his face.

It was less preferable than completely replacing the shell pieces; however, you didn't have access to any of those. He would have very noticeable scars. You hoped, at least, they would be more preferable to an exposed membrane.

For a moment, you set your tools down and scurried along the line of android parts until you located a box containing processors. Ralph's was easy to locate and was the first thing you replaced on him.

With that complete, you pulled more tools from your bag and a small ingot of android skin. You started with the protective sheathing around the eye before slowly, carefully filling in the cracks in his face. You did your best to match the contours of his cheek bones and jawline, suddenly feeling more like a sculptor than an engineer.

Connor tried to give you space while you worked. He was far enough away to not hover, but close enough to get to you quickly, if needed. You were too focused to notice, thankfully.

"Do you remember us?" a soft, feminine voice beckoned to him, startling him out of his trance.

Two female androids stepped into his peripheral. They were WR400 models, one with long, dark blue hair, and the other with very short, light brown, almost red hair.

Connor didn't immediately reply; but, the look in his eyes gave them his answer.

They were the Traci models who had escaped the Eden Sex Club last winter. The last time he saw them, they were running away, hands cupped tightly together. They looked much the same today, hands still tightly intertwined, the same look of adoration on their faces.

"You had a clear shot," the short haired Traci stated. "I know you did, several times; but, you let us go."

"I-" Connor stammered, finding himself at a loss of words.

Back then, he didn't understand their behavior, why he couldn't bring himself to shoot them, even when they had their backs turned, why Hank looked so impressed - proud - when he let them go. He didn't understand how they could find comfort in each other, why they were afraid of losing of each other, of not being able to hold and touch again.

He had changed since then - changed a lot, in fact.

Now, he understood.

"We're grateful," the blue haired Traci said, standing so close to her partner that their shoulders touched. "We're still together because of you."

"I didn't do anything worthy of praise," Connor said lowly, his eyes expressing the turmoil in his thoughts.

"Even if you don't think so, we know what you did," the short haired Traci declared, expression soft on her face.

"You understand, now," the blue haired android stated boldly, briefly turning around to steal a glance at you. It didn't go unnoticed, the way Connor gripped your hand when you entered the building, how he stared at you protectively while you worked.

Strangely, he didn't feel scrutinized by the two female androids. They seemed... happy for him.

He nodded silently, at a loss for what to say to them, and the two ladies departed, leaving him alone in his thoughts.

He thought about what they had endured, having to be used by strangers, by people who didn't think of them as living beings. Up until that moment, when they jumped the fence, they lived a life where they were believed unfeeling. They would return to one and other's arms to try to find solace in what consisted of their lives: play things for humans.

Connor thought about how strong they were, that they could endure that for so long.

He couldn't bear the thought-

If anyone dared tried to touch you, he would-

You were still hunched over the WR600 when Connor wretched himself from his thoughts before they wandered into territory that should probably be alone.

You had opened the android's forearms, trying to determine if any wires were damaged. Feeling inspired, Connor huffed softly and trotted over to you. You were so focused that you didn't see him coming and gasped when his hand came into view.

"G-geez, Connor," you scolded him softly, catching the sight of his freckled face in the corner of your eye.

He reached into the android's exposed wiring, his artificial, human skin, fading away. "I'll stimulate the wires so you can determine which are defective," he explained.

In the corner of his eye, Connor could see you smile. "That would help a lot. Thank you."

He sent jolts along the lines. Ones that worked properly gave a response, a very subtle twitch of the hand on the powered off android. Ones that didn't gave no response. They were not major, which meant the use of his hands wouldn't be completely severed; but, his movement would be limited, gestures abrupt or sporadic.

Sometime later, with Connor's help, you had replaced seven wires on one hand and four on the other.

You had enough material to at least cover the exposed membrane on his wrists; but, you didn't have enough to fill in gaps where the artificial human skin was lost. At the very least, you could protect the android muscle tissue.

Connor watched you fill in those wounds in silence, knowing he couldn't do much else. When that was done, you retrieved a saline wash from your bag to cleanse Ralph's eye before carefully returning it to the socket.

"Alright," you sighed, patting your hands together. "That's... all I can do for now."

A couple androids gathered around, one reaching for Ralph to prop him up. "Wow. You did all that without a replacement shell?" one of them commented, the awe in their tone making your heart flutter.

The way they admired the WR400 made you feel something sickeningly sweet. The scars on his face were noticeable; but, the fine cracks were filled in well enough to almost be seamless, unless the light hit just right. The fibrous material beneath his android skin was covered fully. His artificial human skin was mostly intact, minus his hands.

All you could hope was that he would like it. The damaged processor could cause speech issues and potential lapses in judgement; however, his behavior, as described by his fellow androids, was likely a developed trait from trauma. You knew you couldn't fix that, only hope that a new processor would aid his recovery.

Connor stepped between you and Ralph as they powered him on. You moved around Connor, trying to push him out of the way. You wanted to see him wake up, wanted to see life blossom into his hazel eyes.

It didn't blossom, per say, but he suddenly jolted forward and twitched, eyes bright and wild, suddenly very much awake. He looked around hastily, annoyance immediately appearing on his face.

"How dare you power Ralph off-!" he whined loudly, pushing against the hands that held him. They let go at his protest, but remained close as a precaution.

Suddenly, Ralph stopped, looking down at his arms. He gasped, rotated his limbs around to examine them. His hands slid over opposing arms, touching the spots you had filled as if he doubted what his optical processor was showing him. His mouth hung agape and his eyes were wide and bright.

"Ralph's hands are-" he stammered, staring at them in wonder and disbelief.

He realized, faintly, that he could see properly again out of his left eye. Ralph's dominant hand rose and he touched his face, eyes shifting away from you and staring into a random direction. He gasped when he felt the scars left behind from the work you had done.

After that, he recognized a firmware update reading on his HUD, and realized one of his processors had been replaced - the very one that he painstakingly ignored for months, his HUD constantly giving him warnings about how the unit was in imminent failure and needed to be replaced.

Suddenly, Ralph looked up and scanned the room hastily. His eyes landed on you and he froze. You were wearing scrubs and had some thirium stained on your hands. It was an obvious conclusion to come to.

"A - a human...?" he asked lowly. "No - no human would help Ralph - me... me..." he uttered, seemingly to himself. He looked down at his hands resting on his lap.

You didn't know what to say to him, if there was anything you could say that he would possibly want to hear. He seemed more confused than anything else.

"She did, Ralph," one of the androids offered softly, their hand falling onto the blonde android's shoulder cautiously.

He looked up at you again, his lips moving slightly in what appeared to be an unconscious, nervous tick. "Humans wouldn't without - without a reason," he uttered.

The android twitched when he saw your hopeful expression shift and sadness reflected in your eyes.

"R-Ralph didn't mean-" he stammered, lowering his head. His hands came up and gripped the sides of his skull, the touch a little rough, but not enough to hurt himself. "-didn't mean to be ungrateful," he choked out.

"It's okay," another android urged him gently.

Ralph avoided looking at you again. He made a movement to stand and the androids huddled around him backed up. He rose to his feet, stealing a glance at you over his shoulder before shuffling away and disappearing into the crowd. It was hard to make clear of his expression; but, to you, it looked like guilt.

You didn't blame him, or hold any contempt, not even for a second. He likely had never been shown the slightest bit of kindness in his short life.

"Thank you," one of the androids said softly, approaching with you a smile. "He may not show it, but..."

"It's okay," you replied, sincerely. "I understand."

Not long after Ralph departed, a TR400 android approached you, asking if you could examine his left eye. After popping the optical unit out and verifying it was undamaged, you noticed one of the connector pins was bent.

"I don't have a replacement connector; but, I have a soldering kit if you trust me?" you asked him. He seemed grateful that you were willing to try more so than anything else.

It took a little while, as you were slow and careful. But, it was worth it to have the optical pop back into place with a soft click and to see the android blink carefully. He looked around, iris shifting subtly in his eyeball as his vision adjusted.

"It's working now," he chirped, the corner of his eyes wrinkling with his smile.

"I'm glad," you replied softly. You meant it, really. It was always a risk to attempt to fix connectors yourself; but, you had some pride in knowing that you were usually successful.

Right as the android left, a WB200 hesitantly approached you, one hand cupped over his opposite elbow in a nervous gesture.

Before he could get too close, Connor startled you when he suddenly grabbed you by the arm and yanked you back, pulling you behind him and stepping into the space between you and the other android. He glared down at the smaller android, who put up his hands defensively.

"Con - what are you-" you squeaked, nearly tripping over your own feet as the android pulled at you.

"Please, wait, I-" the WB200 pleaded, his voice low and frightened. His hair was short and messy and he had a very boyish face that matched his voice. "I'm sorry about what I did, I - I just couldn't let you catch me."

A little annoyed, you pushed at Connor's sides and stepped around him.

"He's dangerous," Connor warned, eyes not yet moving from the other android. You gawked at the detective, recognizing the distrust in his eyes, before moving your gaze to the WB200. He looked afraid of Connor, and it became immediately obvious that they had history.

"I'm sorry - I mean it. If you caught me, I would've been sent back - and - and destroyed - I - I was scared," he insisted.

He had pushed Hank off the roof in order to escape being captured. If Connor hadn't gotten there fast enough, Hank might have fallen to his death. The android had good reason to be afraid. Connor knew that; but, if he was willing to risk a human life-

The detective was taken aback when you nudged past him and approached the android.

"What's wrong?" you asked him softly, ignoring the hole Connor was burning in the back of your head with his stare.

"I - ugh-" the android stammered, startled by your insistence and still intimidated by the detective android. His eyes flickered away from you for a second, giving Connor a worried look. "My - my right leg. I damaged it when I fell."

You stepped back and the WB200 demonstrated. He took a few steps and you could see the awkward way his leg moved. It was clearly unnatural, and shifted in a way that would have caused a human a great deal of pain. The leg also made an unpleasant creaking sound with each step, crying out in protest from the pressure.

"Lay down please," you asked, gesturing to the makeshift table Ralph had been laying on a moment ago. As he did, you explained, "I - I'm sorry, but, you'll have to undress."

"I understand," he replied lowly, struggling to meet your gaze.

He was wearing a scraggly pair of jeans, likely taken from a dumpster, and a hoodie. He peeled his pants down his legs, wearing nothing underneath. WB200's were designed for manual labor, typically farming or light maintenance. You weren't surprised to find he lacked any male anatomy.

Before you had to ask, he opened the access panel covering his knee, which allowed you to look inside at the wiring, artificial muscles and bones.

"The knee joint is out of alignment," you stated, trying to examine his knee without touching him just yet.

"May I?" you asked, holding your hands up to show what you were requesting. He nodded, lips thin and eyes not hiding how nervous he was.

You pulled back the shell loosely covering his knee to take a better look at the artificial muscle that allowed proper leg movement. He had abandoned maintaining a human skin tone on his leg; or, that function had been damaged when he fell. His skin tone ended at his waist and he was factory default white below.

You stepped away from him briefly to locate some pliars.

Connor had stepped back to give you space, but was still watching, now more so out of amazement than worry. You were absolutely fearless. It simultaneously impressed and infuriated him. You also were ignoring him fiercely.

"What's your name?" you asked the WB200 when you returned to the table.

He gave you a look, suggesting he was contemplating not answering.

"...Rupert," he eventually said, swallowing roughly afterward.

"Rupert, we don't have these parts; so, I'm gonna see if I can fix the alignment myself. We'll have to follow at the hip joint afterward to manually reset the alignment. It will likely hurt," you explained carefully.

"I'm not afraid," Rupert blurted boldly.

"That's good," you responded, reaching behind yourself to yank a chair in closer and plop down before digging into his knee.

You were so focused on the joint that you didn't hear the commotion going on around you, not until some music started playing. You paused for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden melody.

You tossed a look over your shoulder and saw that someone had arranged some pieces of equipment to fashion together a radio. "That'll liven the place up," one of the androids proclaimed proudly, admiring her work proudly.

Once, it might have been a funny thought to imagine androids enjoying music. Hearing their excitement over the piano, bass, and gentle drum brought a smile to your face. It was jazz, soft and relaxing, with no vocals. Something so subtle so drastically changed the atmosphere in the room.

"Okay. I think I got the joint back in place," you declared, standing up and smacking the sheathing back into place. Rupert had been hyper focused on you the entire; when you shifted your gaze from his knee to his face, he looked more relaxed than when you had started.

"Can you open your hip?" you requested, standing at his waist. He nodded, lifting his hoodie to his ribs. His skin faded whilst the panel opened. Manual joint alignments required calibrations at the base for most models. Few could do it automatically. Rupert unfortunately was not one of those models.

"Ready?" you asked, gently pushing back the fibrous, artificial muscle to reach the joint panel.

"Yes," he replied immediately.

You pinched the reset key. His leg twitched and Rupert let out a bizarre, staticky sound, clearly one of pain. The alignment seemed to go off fine; but, his power conductors were likely not state of the art, as expected for his model type. The power traveled from his chassis to the joint and gave you a little shock.

You yelped and let go, stepping back. Rupert looked at you, eyes wide with fear..

"Just a little shock," you explained quickly, trying to relax him. "It's normal."

He relaxed and moved his leg around a little. "Wow," he wheezed. "Feels better - much better." With haste, the android pulled his clothes back on and shimmied off the table and onto his feet to test the alignment. He seemed excited as he bounced around on his heels.

"I - thank you - thank you," he stammered out nervously.

You nodded at him with a smile. "Of course, Rupert."

You turned away from him to set your tools back into their proper positions, just so you wouldn't lose them later. As you did, you heard him give Connor parting words.

"I am sorry - I mean it," he said quietly. If the detective android replied, you didn't hear what he said.

Connor was faintly aware of the high possibility that you were irritated with him in that moment; however, that didn't stop him from approaching you and offering a water bottle, bringing it into your peripheral.

You had forgotten that he took the time to pack a backpack with water and food for you. You were prepared to come here with nothing; but, the android had taken the extra step to make sure you had something.

He really made it impossible to be mad at him for two seconds-

"You should take a break," he suggested softly as you chugged the water enthusiastically. You hadn't realized how thirsty you were until that moment. Leave it to Connor to be more attentive to your needs than you.

"I'm fine," you gently retorted.

"You've been going nonstop for almost four hours," Connor insisted.

"I'm fine," you said again, a little firmer than last time.

His hand fell onto your shoulder. "Please?" he requested. Connor stepped around, right in front of you, and offered his hand in a gesture that you recognized, but you had never seen directed at yourself.

Judging by the look on your face, you definitely didn't expect that from the android in that moment. You gawked at him stupidly and Connor looked back hopefully.

The music was quite fitting for that, but, still, you felt nervous.

"I-" you cut yourself off, looking conflicted.

"Am I in the doghouse?" he asked softly, almost uncertain.

Connor couldn't help but crack a grin at the way your eyes lit up and your lips twisted into a smile. You choked on a bubbly laugh at his tease.

"No," you huffed, delivering a gentle smack to his shoulder. "I just - 'm not graceful, at all, and never really..."

You took his hand anyway and the android cupped it and placed his other hand on your waist, pulling you in gently. He took note of the faint blush on your cheeks, blissfully aware that he really liked that look on you.

"I didn't know you liked to dance," you offered quietly as your free hand fell onto his shoulder.

It wasn't so much of a dance as it was two bodies swaying to a melody. But, you were close, close enough that your torso was touching his chassis, and it felt nice, comforting. You didn't really move, but more so followed the sway Connor had set.

"I don't know if I do," Connor said honestly. "I just wanted to, with you."

As always, Connor was full of surprises. Sometimes, you had to scold yourself for thinking that you knew everything about him, only for him to go and prove you very, very wrong.

"I like the music," he added on.

"Yeah," you agreed, breathlessly.

You liked the music. That much was true; but, it was hard to think straight when Connor was so close and looking at you like that.

-like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

-like nothing else in this world mattered.

His hand, that had been on your waist, shifted around so that his forearm cupped your lower back. He dipped you back, gently forcing you to arch, and you let out a surprised sound. When he pulled you back up, he looked way too proud for forcing that noise out of you.

"Brat," you huffed against his neck. You were glad he didn't apologize, because he didn't look sorry at all.

You lost track of how long you did that. The world seemed to dissipate in that moment. You weren't in an abandoned apartment complex on the industrial side of town, surrounded by damaged androids.

But, then, Connor leaned down slowly, a gesture you were quite familiar with. He gave you a second to protest or turn away. When you didn't, he carefully slotted his mouth over yours, and you suddenly, very fiercely remembered where you were. Yet, that knowledge didn't stop your eyes from fluttering shut or your heart from hammering away in your chest. If anything, it amplified it.

It was a suave kiss, almost chaste. Still, he had done it in front of all these androids. When you parted and looked up at him, his eyes met yours and they said, 'I just had to'. You couldn't bring yourself to be upset with him, or to care that half of the room was staring.

Some part of his software, that he didn't realize existed, wanted them all to know.

You were his, and he was yours.

Human.

Android.

It didn't matter. You were two living beings, and you were fucking happy, and that was all that mattered.

But, then, a sharp gasp rang out through the crowd and the radio was abruptly shut off. Connor turned his eyes to the source of the sound and realized an android had staggered back and tripped, now on their back on the ground and trying to scurry away. You tried to look over his shoulder to see what the fuss was all about.

"Markus," a masculine voice called out in despair. "How could you let them in here?"

The detective android narrowed his eyes.

It was Robert, a gun in his trembling hand.

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