#he sends me a drawing of a little black goat and goes 'it reminds me of you : )'

[angelicichor]

Nothing so utterly loving, so fucking sanctimonious, so embarrassingly moving for a goth chick like being compared to a black baby lamb.

Put me in the ground this fucking second.

[modestlyabsurd]

Just a Dance (Loki x Reader)

"Let's hear it for the gride and broom!"

The formal crowd of green and red erupts into applause, and your glass of green punch fogs up from a sudden laugh after seeing a tipsy Tony Stark on the stagefront - using the microphone stand as a cane.

Having never been fond of line dancing but finding it very entertaining to watch, you nestled yourself away from the commotion by the food bar, lined with tables under black cloths and stacked high with elegant dishes, to observe the dance floor. The cha-cha slide never disappoints; the look of concentration on Peter's face as he tried (and failed) to hit the poses was enough, but add that to the honest yet terrible attempts from the "gride and broom" and you've got a beautifully orchestrated shit show.

Tony's drunken voice continues to blubber incoherent sounds of happiness over the crowd. "Where are you guys anyway? Get up here - blurgh - it's sappy mushy speech time, come on!" With that, everyone encourages the newlyweds up to the stage.

Even from your nook, the brightness of the couple's smiles are blinding, nevermind the spotlights following them along. You feel your cheeks getting tighter as an unconscious smile spreads across them, marvelling at how Bruce lovingly carries Natasha's long, white train up the steps. Her red lips and braided hair contrast gorgeously against her dreamy wedding gown, and Bruce can't take his eyes away - nor can either of them help the huge, toothy grins on their faces.

A hopeful phenomenon. Two tortured souls who found peace and love in one another. You knew no one deserved it more.

Natasha urges Bruce to speak first. He makes a face, but happily obliges nonetheless. "I guess this thing's on then?" he says, eliciting modest laughs from the people. "Ah, thank you all again for being here, hope you're having as good a time as we are. Thanks again to Tony for providing us with pretty much everything, from the venue, to the decorations, to the food, to the music, to gifts, to our honeymoon - this could go on for another forty-five minutes,"

"Hey," says a deep voice; you turn to find a sharp-dressed man-bunned Thor standing next to you. "Missed you on the dance floor."

You offer a smile. "Not exactly my cup of tea. Neither is this, though," you swirl your punch around.

"The red one is far superior," says Thor, stepping around you to ladle himself another glass. "Have you tried it?"

"Yeah, that's the spiked one. No wonder you like it more." You hear Bruce speaking of how trapped he felt for so long, until Natasha swindled her way into his life and somehow made him feel worthy of living.

"Really? Hm, I couldn't tell. But you have a point, it's at least a bit better than that," says Thor, though you barely hear him - and when he meets your eyes, you don't really see him either. "Everything alright?"

"Hm?" you chirp. "Oh yeah, I'm fine. Why you ask?"

"You just seem ... elsewhere, I suppose. But perhaps it's my own longing disguising itself as someone else's." he says nonchalantly, looking to the floor and downing his glass of red punch in one go.

You open your mouth for a humorous response before you see a wave of sadness wash over Thor. Instead, you nudge his tree trunk of an arm, "C'mon. I give it two weeks before Jane comes back."

He scoffs dismissively and draws a pattern on the floor with his shoe. "Sure. She, erm ... has she, mentioned anything about it, to you?"

"Actually, make it one week."

It was indicated that Bruce's speech had ended when the crowd started cheering and the lights dimmed. With the spotlights still on Natasha and Bruce, they hold each other intimately close and dance to another slow song below the stage. The band's soft guitar and bass vibrates from the soles of your feet up through your bones, all the way to the condensating glass in your hand. It was both a riveting and soothing sensation all at once.

A few feet away, you spot a familiar dark figure weaving through the dancing couples toward you and Thor. As his confident strides bring him into clearer view, your mouth suddenly feels like it's full of cotton and the room gets warmer. Wishing to just become invisible, you attempt to busy yourself with one of the vast cheese platters nearby - haphazardly, having no idea which cracker goes with goat's milk brie or which fruit goes with English Stilton.

He emerges and taps the shoulder of his oblivious brother's maroon blazer. "Don't blame the messenger, but a drunken game of truth or dare has resulted in your friends attempting to lift Mjolnir."

"Gah, not again!" Thor slams his glass on the table, causing some of the cake and hors d'oeuvres to rattle, before running away and disappearing in the sea of people. You're left alone with Loki, and your invisibility attempt has resulted in a not so nice bite of smoked gouda and white grapes.

Next thing you know, your punch glass is empty and your mouth is still dry.

Loki makes a point to look into your eyes rather than gawk at your formal wear as others have already done. It's a breath of fresh air, yet at the same time, his small, polite smile makes you forget how to breathe altogether. You force a smile of your own despite your growing nerves.

"How can you be enjoying yourself tucked away from the fun like this?" says Loki. His voice reminds you of melted chocolate, which draws your attention to the gloriously flowing chocolate fountain across the room. Enticing as it was, looking at the confection was a futile effort to avoid staring at Loki's dark green suit and black bowtie, or his new short curly hair that worked so well.

"You're one to talk. Haven't seen you having much fun either," the words flow smoothly. A nice surprise.

"I never said I was enjoying myself."

You laugh and shrug in concurrence. "I dunno, it's better than it seems. I'm here with all the food and drinks, everyone else is busy, and I have a bird's eye view of the dance floor."

Loki reaches an arm around you and grabs a finger sandwich; the brief closeness sends pleasant goosebumps over your neck. "I suppose. But wouldn't it be nice to see it up close?" he asks. The way he deftly held and nibbled the tiny food ... Jeez. How in the world can someone make eating a sandwich attractive?

In desperate need of a distraction, you turn to the three tier display of sandwiches and take one at random. From your side vision you see Loki anticipating your answer, so you reply with a mouthful of cucumber and cream cheese, "I don't dance."

"Oh, come on. Will you dance for me?"

You stop chewing to stare at him wordlessly.

"Ahem, bad choice of words," he clears his throat and says with a grimace. "I do beg your pardon. Rather," he extends a chivalrous hand toward you, "will you dance with me?"

The disbelief that Loki wants to dance with you, out of all the single people around - most of whom aren't chipmunking all the snacks - it almost leaves you dumbfounded. Almost being the keyword, being as how you took his hand so quickly. The coldness of it shocked you a bit, but the lightness and warmth of his hold made you feel safe. As if you could hold on, or even let go if you wanted, and he wouldn't mind.

He lead you to the center of the floor. The two of you were engulfed by the sea of people dressed in dark shades of red and green, dancing closely to the music. Just as the anxiety began to set in, Loki lifted your interlocked hands up to shoulder level and held you just beneath your ribcage with his other hand. Your mind is whirring, you can't decide if your shivers stem from anxiety, the temperature of Loki's skin, or the mere fact that you can smell him and it's driving you a little crazy.

He squeezed your hand, and patiently placed your free arm around his shoulder. Breathe, you remind yourself. Relax. It's just a dance. It's nothing. The vibrations from the music soothed you, slowly swept you away from your worries. When you dared to reopen your eyes, you found that it was not only the band, but Loki's gentle swaying that carried away your fears.

"See? It's not so bad."

You shake your head. "Just wait until I step on your feet."

He looked at you and you looked at him. You, a clumsy bag of bones, and he, a skillful puppeteer, gracefully carrying your bodies' movements. You both smiled. Like pots of water, overflowing with nervousness and happiness alike.

As he found you relaxing and absorbing the moment, Loki finds himself gazing at the way your hair is framing your face. It hangs and accentuates the softness of your features, but somehow reflects a distinct royalty in you, despite there being none. He can't bring himself to look away. You hadn't seemed to notice that the song had ended and a new slow song had begun to play, and Loki didn't bring it to your attention.

Rather, he brought your warm hand in his grasp up around his shoulder, matching the other, and placed his own hand to match the one at your side. He was testing the waters, really, and was relieved that you offered no protests to his actions. In fact, you seemed to meld into him further by laying your head on his chest, making his heart jump miles into the air.

He was good at concealing his emotions. Or he thought he was. Before you.

The light vibration of your voice against his sternum pulls him from his thoughts. "Pardon?" he asks.

"What are you wearing?"

He glances at himself. "A suit."

"I can see that, dipshit," you chide. "I meant what Asgardian fragrance are you wearing?"

"Oh," Loki croaks, biting away a sting of embarrassment. "I dunno. Must be my natural scent. Pheromones, as your human science says."

"Liar," you playfully squint your eyes at him.

He raises a hand with three fingers, "Scout's honor."

If you could facepalm without breaking away from Loki, you'd punch yourself in the face. "That's, that's not how it works - "

"Shhhhh ... we don't speak of the Scout's rules," he presses your head back into his chest with an open hand, subsequently silencing your laughs and concealing his own blushed cheeks from your view.

"I just realized something."

"What?" he says cheerfully.

You pull your head up to look at Loki. "Everyone in this room is staring at us."

Discreetly, Loki looks around and sure enough is met with many prying eyes. It made you want to crouch behind his legs to hide, but since that's not socially acceptable, you study Loki's dark green Victorian jacket. Is there food on you or something?

But he, on the other hand, lapped up every bit of the attention of the wedding guests. He flexes his fingers a bit, pinching your hips; a gentle reminder of his closeness to you. "Mm, perhaps they're jealous."

"Jealous of what?" you wonder. People are whispering under their breath in a way that instantly made your palms sweat. You try to decipher what they're saying, but all that's clear is that you're the topic.

"Of me."

"Psh. Yeah, you're probably right." You allow your eyes to drift over to his slightly crooked bowtie. It accentuates his boyishness; it sends butterflies through your chest and down to your belly.

"Do you know why they're jealous of me?"

"I mean, I can think of a few reasons."

His cheekbones round out as he smiles. "Well there's one reason in particular that is driving them all mad at the moment. Aside from my mere existence, of course."

A laugh puffs from your throat. "What is it?"

"It's the fact that I'm dancing with the one person that everyone in this room wishes to dance with."

You blink, as his bowtie seems to become a blobby rectangle shape. Me? you think. The room was already too warm, and now your face is uncontrollably heating up. You notice the scuffs on his shiny black dress shoes.

"You're crazy."

Loki looks up momentarily, feeling warmed from the inside out by you. The damp hands placed around his neck are all that's holding him on the ground. "Call me what you will - I know envy when I see it."

You miss a beat and step on his toes, but he doesn't react; in the same moment, the lights brighten, as the crowd began to applaud and mindlessly you did too. The dance was over.

When you turn back, you find that the lights have enhanced Loki's vivid green eyes. They were happy. They captivated you entirely, drew you in to him. You felt drunk; Loki was your liquor and you'd drank more than you ever had before. Someone's speaking on stage but you don't hear them. It's just you and Loki.

Cold, fingers sweep behind your neck and effortlessly bring your mouth to his. Drunk, without inhibitions, you allow for the kiss to deepen and Loki obliges, but only modestly, mindful of the ever prying eyes. You couldn't have been further from them. His hands held you in place, kept you tamed. He pulled away ever so slightly to let you breathe - and indeed you needed to, for you were breathless completely.

It took all you had not to kiss him again and never stop.

"YAAAAAS!" someone shouted.

You and Loki both turn and find Peter cheering like an idiot. And if for some reason you were imagining everyone staring earlier, though somewhat preoccupied, they're definitely staring now. Mentally you were screaming at Loki to poof you two away from it all as you hid your face in his lapels. The scent of him encased you in a fleeting blanket of safety.

"Please," Loki assures - still holding your hand, "there's nothing to see here. Do return to the party."

And they did. They listened to Loki without another glance. As they dispersed to mingle, you caught sight of Natasha and Bruce across the room; you mouth an apology to Natasha, but she shrugs it off with a smile and a knowing wink. Which didn't help the the fact that your face might as well be melting from embarrassment.

An icy breath in your ear takes the wind out of you.

"What did I tell you? They're all envious of me. Because of you."

~

🎶they come runnin bustin down all the doors

cuz EVERY girl's crazy bout a sharp-dressed Thor 🎶

tag list: @sydneyss-worlddd @afinedilemma @fire-in-her-veinz @belladonnabarnes @drakesfiance @internetgremlin @dragon-chica @triggeredpossum @tarynkauai @sadwaywardkid

[providentially-demonic]

The Devil and the Dead: Chapter Nine

Based on @ectoimp‘s absorbing AU sketches (Most of which can be found here!).  

I’m giving credit and kudos to @arthur-tristan-kingsmen, @phantoms-lair, @answrs and of course, the illustrious @ectoimpfor some of the discourse which guided the idea from vague AU to the story that does not want to stop running through my head. And for constantly adding new cute headcanons that are promising to make this longer.

Summary:  At first all he knew was darkness— rage, pain and the ultimate sting of betrayal.  And then Lewis opened his eyes…

Back to Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine: Into the Fire

It took longer than any of them wanted to get to the van. Vivi scowled as she stumbled over a root. “If you’re going to live out here, we need to invest in a better way of reaching this place; a nice driveway or something.”

Arthur looked up from helping Lewis, who hadn’t the energy to float, over the same root. “Um, Viv, I think that would defeat the purpose of hiding away in the woods. You know, so great big bat-winged green thing doesn’t freak everyone out?”

Vivi waved a hand irritably. “Pssh. Look at me, I’m not freaking out.”

“Because you’re you.” Arthur snarked back.

“Oh, shoosh.” Vivi returned, digging for the keys in the pocket of her skirt as they broke through the trees. “That reminds me, we need to let Lance know you’re okay. I mean there was the note, but, I mean, he really needs to know.” She pointed with the hand holding the keys to a familiar van parked on the side of the road.

“What note?” Arthur squinted suspiciously at her as she unlocked the back door of the van and he helped Lewis climb up and slide over to the middle of the seat so he could see where they were going.

“The one you sent to me, silly.” Vivi had unlocked the back of the van and was rummaging in her chests of magical supplies and relics, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth. “I mean you didn’t sign it and your handwriting has actually improved, but it said you had been hurt and were recovering and asked me to let Lance know. You also asked me to let the Pepper family know that Lewis here was “still around, in spite of evidence to the contrary,” and man, let me tell you did that one get me some strange looks!”

“Vivi, I didn’t send you any note.”

“I sent it.” Lewis confessed, petting his little deadbeat’s head absently. “You were so worried about letting Vivi and my folks know that we were still— around, but you never once mentioned Lance. Did you think he wouldn’t be worried sick too?”

Arthur ducked his head, lips pressed tight. “It doesn’t matter now, does it? We have more important things to worry about, like getting your anchor back.”

“It does matter!” Vivi huffed, emerging from her excavating with her hands full of an assortment of esoterica, including a small vial that glowed with an eerie red luminescence. “And we’ll be talking about it later, like it or not, you can bet your scrawny green butt on that!” She hip-checked the rear door closed and shifted things into the crook of one arm until she had freed a hand to pull the keys out of the lock.

“Think fast!” She chucked the keys at Arthur, who yelped, but snagged them out of the air almost instinctively,

“Vi—” he protested, keys dangling loosely from one claw. “I can’t drive. Not like this!”

“You can. I need my hands free to work on something to deal with Mystery. And he’s too weak to drive.” She cocked a thumb at Lewis as she clambered into the passenger seat. “You always were the best driver. I trust you.”

Arthur shut his mouth with a snap, blinking. He glanced back at Lewis, and then once more at Vivi, before nodding firmly and climbing into the driver’s side door. It took him a moment to arrange his bandaged wings and tail so they were out of the way, but at last he swallowed hard and inserted the key into the ignition. He turned it and the van rumbled smoothly to life. “Here goes nothing.”

Gingerly he pressed the ball of his elongated foot on the gas pedal, flinching a little when the van responded by gliding forward back onto the road. “W-which way, big guy?”

Lewis indicated the division in the road. “Left. It’s east of here.”

Arthur nodded, his hands clenched tight around the steering wheel, and a little more confidently, pressed on the gas.

Between giving Arthur more directions, Lewis watched Vivi curiously. She had a cloth spread over her knees and three slips of vellum that were inked with black kanji and other sigils he did not know. He knew some of the kanji though, Vivi had taught him and Arthur the most basic of wards long before they had taken to the road in search of the paranormal.

As he watched, Vivi picked up the tiny vial and stared at it for a long moment, brow creasing in a frown. Finally she sighed heavily and picked up one of the wards. One at a time, she wrapped each strip around the softly-glowing bottle, muttering something under her breath that might have been japanese, but it didn’t sound like any of the words Lewis knew. Each time, the red glow of the vial dimmed a little more, and the sigils and kanji started glowing with the same clear ruby color.

At last she settled the slips back onto the cloth on her lap and let out her breath in a long exhale. Her forehead was beaded with sweat, but her fingers were steady as she rolled each ward into tiny little scrolls and inserted them each into small two-part metal capsules with a loop on one end, screwing the two halves together tightly. She lit the stub of a red candle with the van’s cigarette lighter and carefully dripped wax over the seals of each of the tubes. Finally, she threaded each one onto a leather thong that she knotted to make a necklace out of.

Lewis accepted the one she handed to him. The metal was smooth and cold and a dull gray-silver that he knew without asking was cold iron. Mystery wasn’t hurt by it, but his magic did nothing absolutely against it. “What did you just do? That wasn’t like any warding I’ve ever seen you do, even though I recognized some of the symbols.” He slipped it over his head, a strange tingle passing through his entire being.

Vivi held up the small glass vial, now much dimmer than before, studying it contemplatively. “This is a sample of Mystery’s magic, taken directly from his Hoshi no Tama. I used it to ward him from ever coming near us.”

Arthur gulped. “Vi, he’s really, really not gonna like that.”

“Maybe— but maybe he needs to learn this lesson the hard way, He’s not thinking rationally right now. How else do you explain his actions? He’s convinced you’re a ‘demon’, yet he leaves me alone with you— after weakening the only other person there who might protect me from said demon.”

“Would protect you,” Lewis muttered. He hated that she didn’t know him well enough to know that he would walk barefoot through hell for her. “And Artie’s not a demon.”

“I know that and you know that, but Mystery— he’s not playing with a full deck at the moment. He needs something, a— a shock to the system to make him realize just what he’s doing.” Her face was grim as she slipped one of the pendants over her own head. “Maybe this will be enough to do it.”

Arthur looked down at his hands on the wheel briefly before returning his attention to the narrow dirt road they were now following. “I— I won’t deny that I’m terrified of him. For what he did and what he tried to do. But— It’s still Mystery. I can’t like this plan entirely, Vivi.”

Vivi sighed, reaching over to drop the last necklace over Arthur’s head, delicately keeping it from blocking his vision or tangling on his horns. She smoothed his hair back into place once it had settled around his throat, the metal looking bright against his green skin. “To be honest, neither do I. I think—” she heaved another sigh. “I think it’ll scare him, and I hate to do it in the state of mind he’s in right now. But it can’t go on like this.”

Lewis lifted his head. His locket was close now and the proximity made him feel so much better than he had since the moment Mystery had stolen it. “We’re close,” he warned. “The road’s gonna fork up ahead and there’s one that’s barely even a goat track; that’s the one we need. Take it as far as the van can go, but we’ll never make it up the bluff in the van. We’ll have to go the rest of the way on foot. It won’t be an easy climb.”

“Before you ask, no, I can’t fly us up there.” Arthur shuddered. “I don’t even know if I can, much less want to be that far off the ground.”

Vivi stuck out her lower lip some but didn’t argue with him.

It wasn’t very much farther before the van couldn’t push on. Arthur grunted with frustration and killed the engine. “Looks like we’re hoofing it from here.” He shoved the door open, wincing at the sound of underbrush scratching against the paint, and clambered out. He hurried to pull the side door open for Lewis, but Lewis did it himself. Now that they were closer to his locket, he felt more like himself, if still a little weak. He did accept the arm Arthur held out to help him out though.

Vivi had already disembarked and was squinting at the path. “With brush this deep he won’t see us coming, that’s for sure.”

Arthur nodded. His face was still pale, but he gamely started forward. His toe-talons actually helped in terrain this rough, allowing him to grip the uneven ground. He had folded his wings as close as he could, but branches kept snagging at the bandages and causing him to wince at the tugs on his wounds.

Lewis found he could float now, and drifted upwards so he was no longer tripping on everything. He helped Arthur untangle a wing before drifting over to Vivi. “Any idea what we’re going to do when we get there?”

Vivi pursed her lips. “Arthur and I will draw him out. He can’t touch us unless we take the wards off and neither of us are going to do that. You can go intangible and go after the locket. He can’t set a ward directly on your anchor, not if he intends to purify it, so expect some barrier between you and it. There might be other wards, and you’ll have to watch out for those. Even if you can’t touch them, there are ways to disrupt them. You can find ways to break them if you try.”

Lewis nodded. She hadn’t lost her ability to take command with her memories. “I trust your wards but are you sure he can’t hurt you?”

Vivi measured a space out from her body, not quite the length of her arm. “He won’t even be able to get close enough to try. That’s what I used the sample for. The wards I made act to repel his magic alone. And since his magic is inherent, there is no way around it for him. Even if he stops using his magic, because he is inherently a magical creature, he cannot pass the ward.”

Arthur had obviously been listening in, and fingered the tiny capsule around his neck. “I-it won’t hurt him, will it?”

Vivi’s face softened and she reached out to sock Arthur lightly in the arm. “No. I promise. It just won’t let him get near.”

“G-good.” Arthur relaxed a little.

“Silly,” Vivi chided. “Even scared to death, you worry for him.”

Arthur’s cheeks flushed a darker shade of green and he ducked his head. “He’s still Mystery. And he’s just as screwed up as the rest of us. We all suffered because of that damned c-cave. I’m gonna be scared of him, no matter what, because all I remember is that moment up there where he came for me. Maybe he didn’t mean for me t-to f-fall, but I did, and that’s not gonna go away that easy for me.” He rubbed the back of his neck, mindful of his claws. “But, I think— maybe— the reason he’s acting so crazy, trying to a-attack me and then running away with Lewis’s locket— is cause he’s all scared and messed up.” Arthur ducked his head. “That’s a feeling I know pretty well. He’s running scared, not only because he’s messed up in the head by what happened, but because he messed up too and he knows it. He lied to you, and he knows you don’t forgive lies easily.”

Vivi’s expression softened and she reached over to take Arthur’s hand in her own. “I know. We’re all of us messed up.” She glanced over at Lewis. “Even me. I’m missing memories— and I’m going to guess they are pretty danged important ones from the way you keep looking at me like you do.”

Lewis didn’t even know he could blush anymore, much less turn so bright a red he felt like he was glowing. “U-Umm, w-well...” he stammered helplessly.

Arthur looked up at him with a lopsided smile. “Big guy, she’d’ve had to been blind not to notice you mooning at her.” A surprisingly cheerful chuckle escaped him.

Lewis ducked his head sheepishly. He hadn’t even realized he’d been doing it. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Vivi hopped over a tangle of twisted roots and struck a pose. “Don’t be sorry. If I had someone as awesome as me, I’d be all love-struck too.”

The teasing worked to break the embarrassment Lewis was feeling and he laughed. Vivi’s sense of humor was matched only by her exuberance.

“Careful, Vi. Your ego gets any bigger and there won’t be room for the rest of us on this bluff.” Arthur poked back, his grin widening enough to show the tips of his fangs.

“Pfft.” Vivi waved a hand in the air, but as quickly as she had switched into joking, she flipped back to the serious leader. “I think I see a break in the trees ahead. Lewis, now would be a good time to find a place to go in. Stay hidden until Artie and I provide the distraction you’re gonna need.”

“Gotcha,” Lewis nodded, and drifted away from the two of them. He knew he could trust Vivi to protect Arthur.

He hadn’t gone far enough to not overhear what Vivi said to Arthur in an undertone. “That’s another lie Mystery’s got to answer for. He... he told me that Lewis was a friend and nothing more.”

Lewis’s anger burned again at those words. Why would he have lied to her about that; about what she and Lewis had been, about what they had meant to each other? Mystery might have been as fucked up as the rest of them, but Lewis wasn’t going to be above scorching a few tails for that little tidbit... and for attacking Arthur.

He circled around the church, hoping that this close to his anchor, he would feel strong enough for that fire. Spotting a mostly unbroken stained-glass window, he sent his remaining deadbeat to peer inside, cautioning it silently to remain unseen. It nodded and drifted soundlessly up to the window. In a moment, Lewis was seeing what it saw in that strange sense of double vision from before. The interior of the tiny church had been swept clean, the broken pews shoved against the walls to clear the stone floor. What had been the altar had been pushed to the center of the floor, and his locket glowed softly atop it, hovering in a circle of colorless flames that burned nothing.  There was a simple circle of salt around the fire and beyond that, Mystery paced the floor in what seemed to be growing frustration. His tails lashed the air and he growled softly, teeth snapping every now and again.

Mystery padded up to the very edge of the salt circle and leaned in, brows furrowed as he peered anxiously at the locket. “It should be working. Why isn’t it working?” His voice pitched up in a worried whine.

“Mystery!” Vivi’s voice was the roar of a general in full command, echoing in from both the deadbeat relay and Lewis’s own ears. It shook dust from the rafters of the old church.

Mystery whirled away from the heart, eyes pinning rapidly and ears up.

“You get your fuzzy flea-flipping furry foundation out here before we have to come in after it!” Vivi challenged.

Mystery’s ears flattened to his neck. “We—?” He barely breathed the word. He rushed to peer out one of the broken windows, claws clattering noisily on the stone. “Oh, Vivi, no—!”

A snarl ripped out of Mystery’s throat and he flung himself at the heavy and still solid oak doors, bulling through them in a rush that gave disregard to any damage they might do to him as they shattered from the force of the blow.

Through his deadbeat’s eyes and the ragged splinters of the doors, Lewis could clearly see Vivi and Arthur standing shoulder to shoulder a few feet from the rusted iron gate of the tiny cemetery, backlight by the lowering sun that was turning the clouds to vivid orange and red. Vivi looked magnificent in her justified fury, the image of a warrior-queen, expecting everyone and every thing to bow to her whims.

Beside her Arthur was shrunken in on himself, shoulders hunched defensively and his wings furled as tightly as the bandages would allow. But he still stood firm, never giving an inch, and his gold eyes nearly steady on Mystery’s baffled face.

Mystery surged forward, stopping a few feet away. His hackles were up and he growled long and low in his throat. His eyes glowed in fury, claws tearing at the dirt beneath his feet and tails lashing in the air like a multitude of irritated cats. “Vivi, you fool! Get away from that thing!”

Vivi planted her hands on her hips and favored Mystery with one of her very best ‘you are an idiot’ glares. “Mystery, you need to pull your stupid skull out of your seven supernatural sphincters. He is not a thing; he is Artie, our dearest friend!” Her fists clenched, Vivi took a deep breath. “Please, ‘Stree...” Her hands loosened and she held them out pleadingly to him. “You’re not thinking right. You know that... you have to know that!”

Mystery shook his shaggy head violently.  “No, Vivi— you can’t trust anything he says.”

Lewis’s deadbeat chirped and drew his attention back to the job at hand. As much as he wanted to be out there protecting Vivi and Arthur, he needed his locket back to do that best.

Lewis passed through the wall easily enough, though he could sense a sort of low-level shiver across his senses from the colorless flames surrounding his anchor. Surprisingly, there seemed to be no other wards... probably a good indicator of Mystery’s state of mind.

Cautiously, he crossed the floor, and stopped just short of the line of salt. They had used salt in investigations before, as it did seem to give some ghosts pause, but he had never had an issue with it in the time since his— death. Warily, he reached out, expecting a shock or something unpleasant, but felt nothing. His fingertip touched the grainy surface of the line of salt and made an impression. A small laugh bubbled up and he broke the circle by brushing some of the salt away easily. Some cook he’d be if he couldn’t even handle a little salt!

The translucent fire around the locket was another matter altogether. One careful prod earned him a nasty shock that made him feel like he’d stuck his whole body in an electrical outlet. Yelping, he drew his hand back and stumbled backwards, too stunned to hover.

His little deadbeat whirled around his shoulders, cooing worriedly as he examined his fingers for damage. He could see nothing, but the memory of that shock made his fingers shake.

Wavering, Lewis straightened up and faced the altar and the fire that kept him from his heart. He had to get it. Nothing else mattered but reaching it so he could help Arthur and Vivi.

He glanced up at his remaining deadbeat, the lonely wandering spirit that had attached itself to him, and sent it to watch out for Arthur and Vivi. If something went wrong, he didn’t want it harmed.

He took a moment to study the fire, barely visible flames that wavered the air around the locket like a heat shimmer. He’d heard of a purification fire before, but never seen one, not a real one anyway. It was an old spell, predating a lot of religions and civilizations. The basest idea was that it could burn away corruption, an idea that had been perverted in other hands until it became indistinguishable from the witch-fire used against those accused of witchcraft.

Vivi had said Mystery didn’t want to hurt him, but that hadn’t felt like something that would do him no harm.. It had been the closest thing to real pain aside from the theft of his locket that he’d felt since the cave. Maybe it wouldn’t harm his anchor, but it seemed it could do him some real damage.

And unfortunately, the only way to get to what he needed, was through it, and he had a feeling no water would put this fire out.

He heard a snarl from outside and knew time was running short.

With a silent thought at his deadbeat to look after the others should the worst happen, he stepped forward and thrust his left arm into the shimmer of fire. For a second, he could see the flames crawling up his arm, now flickering with hints of ebon and scarlet. Then...

Lewis screamed.