#He couldn't kill her in a way that mattered

[illumoria]

INTRODUCING...BABYMAMA!READER

RICH!BABYDADDY!PATRICK'S INTRODUCTION

patrick's #1 girl. white rabbit. morning walks. vanilla and cherry. new york's sweetheart. big heart bigger tits. glass half full kind of girl.

spoiled (by patrick). peonies. summer time. milky white.

sensitive. baby pink and chocolate brown. soft love.

overprotective mama bear when it comes to her daughter.

jonny: faye webster. her and her baby girl against the world....and patrick.

sweet but stubborn. slaps him right on top of the head when he pulls a cigar out in front of the baby.

BABYMAMA!READER who used to work a 9-5 every day–even weekends so she could make enough for her life and her daughter's, reluctantly leaving her baby at patrick's house. she'd never tell him of her situation though–no. never. but one day she couldn't take it, and when she'd came by to pick her daughter up from his apartment–she instantly passed out. not even making it to the door. from then on he made her quit–always sending her money even when she insisted not to.

BABYMAMA!READER who lives in a separate apartment (that he pays for) even though he's begged her to come and move in with him. each time she says no and each time he sulks. he tells himself he'd rather be sad then push you, though deep down he'd kill to see that sleepy little look on your face in the morning. eyes barely open with your little girl in your arms.

BABYMAMA!READER whose eyes linger a little too long on her baby girl's eyes anytime she plays with her, familiar icy blues staring back at her as if reminding her of him. every single day she looks at her girl.

BABYMAMA!READER who will never be able to fully let go of him. he was her first love, her first everything. the father of their child. no matter how badly she wants to move on she knows she'll never be able to–and maybe some small part of her doesn't want to.

BABYMAMA!READER who really misses the way things used to be.

XTRA:

babymama!reader actually has a little tattoo in the middle of her chest! (shown above). she'd gotten it back in highschool with patrick, and while she has it on her sternum he has it behind his ear.

masterlist!

line dividers: @/hyuneskkami

[osatokun]

Olga's story (or at least a bit of it)

People asked for Olga's backstory, so I decided to write a lil bit down. I could probably add more, but it's ok for now. ( by the way, Sych means Owl, so she would be translated as Olga Owl XD)  The story happens in 1998th, in Moscow.

Olga was a 25-year-old paleontology student. She combined a love for quiet, monotonous research and history with a readiness to protect her friends, not just with words, but with fists too (despite her short height). She had always been a fairly athletic girl and loved going hunting with her grandfather. Olga preferred museums and quiet evenings with a book over partying with peers. But at some point wild creature,  a party queen named Georgina appeared in her life, so Olga was doomed to at least minimal social interaction. Plus, Gera often occupied Olga's flat and started parties... Hard times. 

There was also a romantic affair in her life that ended in total disappointment: a married, older professor who turned out to be nothing like the passionate, dedicated man he pretended to be. The affair ended, but the rumors lingered (as if students had nothing better to do than gossip). By the way, Gera sent that professor her bikini photoshoots to pass the exams.. There was also a hard tragedy in her life: she spent much more times with her granddad and granny, than her parents, and was very found of them. But once her granny died in hospital, she was told the reason was the blood poisoning. Olga couldn't process the loss and she locked the feelings so deep, they caused nightmares and later on claustrophobia - she couldn't stop imagining that it's not her granny, but she herself was put in the coffin. Not so long ago she learned, that her granny was killed by vampires because she learned too much. It seems like she and granddad tried to investigate supernaturals of the city and got too close..

And once, for an urgent and difficult task, the Prince happen to need some very young vampires. And if they die while completing it - no matter, their sires would finish the job. And so, he forced 4 old vampires to embrace new kindred. For reason that is still unknown, the choice of the Hound of Moscow, a blacksmith from clan Brujah, fell on Olga. He tore her from her normal life, took her to his forge, and laid it out plainly: she was a weapon now. Her task was to kill on command.

But despite the roughness, cruelty, and frightening strength of her sire, Olga, being observant and unfortunately fairly optimistic, managed to see something in him that touched her soul. Unlike many people she had met in life, he was honest (as much as he could be. She saw that he has no rights to say some thing, so she didn't try to make him do it). His training was harsh, but she could see he truly worried about her being unprepared for what was to come, even if he tried to hide it. He didn’t hide behind masks, sarcasm, or jokes, it was clear he simply preferred silence over pretense. In the world of masks, he choose not to hide himself, at least not from his childe, and that strongly impressed her. 

It also became clear right away that he didn’t want a childe at all. And later he admitted it to her himself, saying that if he could have avoided it, he wouldn’t embrace her. Or at least, not now and not like this. She treasure his honesty.

So instead of hiding from him in the corners, being afraid or hating him, she chose a different tactic. She didn’t shout back, but tried her best to stay calm, and even began to show care. She felt sympathy for this old, worn down man who had outlived nearly everyone he had cared about, witnessed dozens of deaths, and was now forced to embrace someone who would most likely die too, like everyone else. And on top of that, she started pestering him with personal questions, trying to know him better. She was  amazed by the idea of a blacksmith, who knows old traditions and mastered his forging skills for HUNDRED of years. And now she is  not just asking, but almost demanding to teach her the craft of blacksmithing, once she proved herself worthy of his time.

All of this threw the old Brujah off-balance, but running away wasn't in his nature it seems.. 

~~~~

One night, he told her:

-When you become a neonate, I’ll no longer be your sire.

She replied:

-No way. You’re my only family now. You’ll always be my sire. ~~~

At one point, she said:

-I know you're probably going to say something like 'don’t fill your head with stupid questions,’ but this is important to me, so I’ll ask anyway. Tell me—does the fact that you made me mean anything to you? Or am I just a thing, a tool, expendable?"

He tried to change the subject, but she asked again.

And his answer was:

-…Don’t fill your head with dumb questions.  She laughed sincerely. 

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

And he probably shouldn’t have started their first talk like this:

-You’re a vampire now! A monster of the night! Seen Dracula? That’s you now! Dracula!

-…No.

-What do you mean no?? Yes!

-I mean… no, I haven’t seen it.

-Well that’s a shame. Great film!

-Well, I’ve seen From Dusk Till Dawn. So what now, should I make everyone lick my feet?

-…Well, I mean, that’s also an option,- he said, thoughtfully sitting on a step - But that’s more of a Toreador thing.    

~~~~~~~~~~ 

And aside from torturing her sire with attention, she is working on understanding the new world she was dragged in. She is trying to learn all she could, but trying to be careful. She wants to know about her clan history, about other vampires and their wars. She has a great memory and collects every bit of information, sorting it and using it. She decided that this is similar to the hunting experience: you have to learn how wild animals think and act, to be able to find them, catch them or avoid them. And she's also trying to gently ( or not so gently) guide her coterie of fledglings, as everyone here are rebels and loners.  She is also trying to learn, what is the Beast inside her, and what is the true power of kindred (or human) soul..  

~~~ Ah you had to see how mad her sire was, when she went to the oldest Brujah in the city, without notifying anyone or asking permission. But it all was worth it, she learned a lot about Brujah, about the city and about sad story of her own sire..

Also, personal one-shot game they had can be read here

[arthurmorganrp]

"Oh sure I know. I know those bastards." It was not even needed to say. The Van Der Linde had been fighting them for a while- they had been enemies for long- Dutch's morale against the pure hatred of the civil war- those men were like the worst that had been left by the conflict.

Arthur shook his head and looked down when he sas Cole bring the corpse. Those girls, if Arthur's son had survived, he would be by their age now- they could be his daughters, so young and so broken. "So you know the town. Good. Let's get going then." The young woman started to cry again. 'Maggie...' She muttered her name. The other girl was Maggie. 'We tried to escape....she distracted them while I tried to break free, but they got her, then got me and dragged me back inside-' she was sobbing again, shaking against Arthur's chest. She indeed looked so small close to him, small and scared.

The fact Cole called the small villages he visited and adopted "home" was amazing. Something Arthur's gang never did- try to help the places instead of ending up bringing just chaos.

"Let's take Laura to her mom. Then we check the village for anything suspicious, and then the surroundings. I hope it was just a bunch of these guys settling near a small town to find an easy life out of stealing it like parasites, and not the Lemoyne trying to settle a hideout by these parts." He started to trottle towards the small town with Cole.

"If I find any camp around these plains with any more of then, I'm killing them all, leaving their bodies spread full of bullets to send a message to any other of them who think this is a safe area for their gang." There was so much hate in Arthur's eyes, and the way he kept one arm around the girl he was carrying was pure fatherly instinct- he knew how to carry her, how to hold her, how to shield her, how to cover her, and now, just like a bear with a cub, he would kill anyone who dared to come too close to that girl.

Isaac may have died young, years ago, but the fatherly instincts had survived in Arthur, and it was very difficult to turn them off, specially when there was a kid or teenager struggling. While he was taking that girl home, he would kill for her and die for her, and nothing else mattered, it was in his eyes, and while in that state, Arthur was extremelly dangerous.

'She has a family.' Laura muttered, given enough time. 'Maggie's father worked at the bakery. I know him. We were all like family. Christ...he will be so sad...' The poor girl couldn't help but grip Arthur's shirt, creasing the fabric- so much pain in her hands, in her eyes, in her everything.

"Nah, Ashe didn't tell me, I assumed you couldn't read because how you looked at my journal at the saloon, you losed so damn confused, it was adorable-" Arthur shut up- he didn't mean to say it- and that had been the last phrase that came from him before he went to the cabin.

"I don't think nothing, Cass." Arthur's tone was....weird. It was almost as if he was someone else. All serious. He left Cass talking to the lady, took a bag and started to fill it with all the money and jewels he could find. "And ya even know if she can ride? And if she goes alone, what if another one of these bastards show up on their way back here? What if there was more of them." He seemed brute and violent and he robbed the place, searching the drawers and chests he could find. "It's a gang hideout, Cass, there has to be more of them."

He sighed, finally finding a clean sheet folded in a drawer. "Come here, ma'am. Easy now. I'll take you home, where do you live?"

Cole was right, no way she would trust a man ever again, but even so, Arthur seemed to want to trample any logic that didn't involve getting that poor young woman home. "I...don't wanna know I'm taking her home. Playing hero...? For real...? I just killed five bastards in cold blood."

She took the knife back, holding it down with both her hands, slowly raising it and pressing it against Arthur's throat, but without hurting him, he kept his hands up, holding the sheet. 'C...can I keep holding it like this? Can I keep holding it??' The woman asked and Arthur just nodded as he wrapped the sheet around her. 'I live in a small town not very far...there's a road through the woods, north from here.' He allowed the woman to keep the knife against his neck the whole time, if it would make her feel a bit safer. The confusion and fear in her eyes, so scared but having to trust the murderer in order to have a chance. 'Please don't leave me here, I can't even look at them.' She tried to walk, but her legs were shaking so hard, she was so sore and hurt. Arthur then just picked her up in his arms and took her outside, she kept holding the knife with her shaky hands against his neck, his eyes full of hope and fear, both emotions fighting each other. Due to her shaky hands, she cut Arthur's throat a little, so superficial, but it bled, and she dropped the knife, realizing she didn't want to harm him, and he wasn't reacting. 'I live with my mom...'

"Come on, let's go, I'll take you home." He went up the stairs carrying her and helped the woman sit on the saddle, and soon he followed. "What's your name?"

She said Laura, and then curled against Arthur's chest, closing her eyes, as if accepting whatever fate she was destined to reach.

Arthur turned to Cole adjusting his hat. "I'm taking her home. You know these parts better than I do, come on." His eyes were so different. They were dark and severe, as now he was so protective of that young woman.

After a long pause, he finally said something. "I'll tell you later. Just...come on, let's go. Her life is way more worth than mine, if you wanted to help me then help her, boss." Arthur insisted using 'boss', to poke Cassidy a bit harder, maybe to remember him what he was. A savior to lost people.

[dammit-tazmuir]

I very frequently quote C— telling John to pick a priority and his "It's both. How can it not be both?" and her telling him it can't, and the fact that it wasn't. But there's another line in that exchange I also think a lot about.

C— kept saying, Pick one. Are we more invested in proving this new plan is bullshit, or in saving you? I was like, It’s both, how can it not be both. C— was like, It can’t be both. Pick one and stick to it. Decide what you give a fuck about. He said, I found that the problem with being the death man is you stop giving much of a fuck.

Necromancy is stagnation, necromancy is the refusal of change, and John has always hated change, and falls back on systems because they're familiar, and all that is still true. But the backstory segments are also very much about how much he changes over that one year.

John who goes from barely reacting to the bad stuff happening to them, struggling to process and just continuing his work anyway, to loud angry outbursts. John who goes from sleeping like a baby and waking up to have six breakthroughs a day to no longer sleeping and barely eating and keeping his body running manually with magic.

John who saw their corpses as friends and was appalled by the idea of having to destroy the bodies to dispose of them, who went around to his favorites "not even saying goodbye, just saying it’ll be fine, hang on for me, kia kaha, kia māia." Be strong, be brave. John who Alecto chose "for John so loved the world."

Who then stops giving much of a fuck. Except he also doesn't. In ways he gives a lot more of a fuck.

"Not as long as there's still breath in my body" is giving a fuck. "I still have breath in my body. They're still out there" is very much giving a fuck. Way more than being unable to cry with A— and M— when they got shut down a year prior.

Diving after Harrow in the River— Harrow who he actively feared, Harrow who he didn't want dead but was willing to have killed if he couldn't find a way to fix/"save" her, Harrow who it would have been so easy to let die then and there and not one person including himself would have had to think it was remotely his fault— saving her anyway even when he's seemingly vulnerable in the River and at minimum risked outing himself to Mercy about it, is giving a fuck.

The ways he angsts and broods and laments. The ways he worries and ruminates and obsesses over plans and gets embarrassed when Harrow catches him still going over the BoE attack reports months after the fact.

"Augustine says thinking about it before we endure Number Seven is folly, but the way I see it, if I fail with Number Seven nothing matters; if we win, then this is the thing that matters most.” It was always I when God ideated failure, as though the rest of you were not accountable for anything.

"I will love you three until the end of time" and even "I didn't offer it to Mercy because Mercy really pissed me off." Immediately retaliating even when she'd fully offered to let him rewrite her memories instead was an emotional reaction; that's unfortunately very much giving a fuck. The mid-dismyriad crisis that follows, drowning his sorrows, etc, he has more feelings than he wants to.

But it's also undeniable the ways and degrees to which he gives a fuck change drastically. From "those are our friends, we need to treat them with respect" to playing dolls with his bodyguards to playing dolls with the whole universe.

And that's the big one, isn't it? He cares about humanity as an ideal, about the collective, but he becomes increasingly dismissive of individual people, and cares less and less about the value of life. Death stops seeming so bad. "I found the problem with being the death man is you stop giving much of a fuck."

I could take that alone and talk about the tragedy of how the power Alecto gave him to save people specifically contributed to him being less inclined to do so. I could talk about about how he never asked for this, didn't get instructions, started exploring from the starting point of the first act she showed him being preventing decay, how even if she couldn't communicate maybe if she'd shown him a different miracle first it would have influenced him to pursue the path differently (but why would she, when she was only afraid to die?).

But do you know who else simultaneously cares so much so deeply at all times and is also very detached and blurry about it?

Nona loved to watch the moon tremble in front of the big broken hanging blueness in the sky, careless of it, while Honesty prised bullet casings out of holes in the walls and Kevin played with his dolls.

The plants filtered out some of the clinging smoke, and Nona loved to look at the trees and the bristly, curving shapes of the shrubs and bushes.

“I love Crown,” Nona protested, giving the smallest bone a desultory grope. “Why do you love Crown?” Nona thought about it. “She has lovely hair. And when she hugs you she smells like cinnamon, and her breasts feel nice, and she’s so big and pretty.”

“And why do you love Camilla?” Nona struggled with this a little. It was like asking why you breathed air. “I love the way she moves,” she said pitifully.

“That’s okay. I love you. Tell Palamedes I love him too, don’t forget.”

But Nona loved the blue sphere as much as she loved everything else. She, and nobody else, could hear it sing. “Good night, Varun,” she said.

“I love you, Pyrrha, and I think you’re wonderful and very beautiful—” [...] “—but I don’t want to be married to you. You’d never act like you were married to me.”

This made her ears go up slightly with the smile, which Nona loved.

“No,” said Hot Sauce. And: “I’m here, Nona. I’ll look after you.” “I love you, Hot Sauce,” she said.

She said, “Thanks—I love you,” and then darted away into the elevator well as fast as she could, feeling red hot with embarrassment. She hadn’t meant to say it—it was like the time Born in the Morning had called the Angel Dad—only she did mean it. She did love the Angel, after today.

Nona, grief-stricken, hollered— “Not like this. I love this place.” “Do you love?” said the Captain’s mouth. Nona struggled. “Yes—no—yes,” she said, then: “I don’t know what it means. I say it, and I don’t know what it means … Did I ever know what it meant?”

The love is real and it's everywhere. It always has been. We can see it, we can feel it, in every breath. But has she ever understood it? Has John? I sincerely believe both that there's a reason out of everyone in the world, everyone who was also working to save her, everyone even in John's specific project, there's a reason she chose him; and that in doing so, she inadvertently but absolutely made him worse.

[junemary]

Fengcui are ridiculous. They're fully making out at this point but they REFUSE to acknowledge it out of pure spite they NEED to get the upper hand the other one must be the one to confess first!!!! Can you imagine? Sticking you tongue 5 inches down someone else's throat and still have the guts to say to THEIR FACE that they're the one coming onto you and you don't get it- have they fallen for you? Ooh how interesting, maybe elaborate on that? No? Well fuck you then. And then they do it again. And then they sacrifice themselves for each other MULTIPLE TIMES. Only to share the most disgustingly sweet romance that is CLEAR to everyone around them yet it remains!!!! Unspoken!!!! Even to each other!!!!

[fromtheseventhhell]

"It's powerful, it's visceral, it's dark, it's like a Shakespearean tragedy. There’s no Arya — a character everybody's going to love. They're all flawed. They're all human. They do good things. They do bad things. They're driven by lust for power, jealousy, old wounds — just like human beings. Just like I wrote them."

Seeing people debate which grey characters can still be considered "morally good" and somehow Arya never makes the list, so it's the perfect time to bring back this quote from George which shows exactly how he views her character 🫶🏾

[thesilvermoonrays]

"I think y'er confused. First of all, ya don't know shit about what I say ta anyone about anything. Second, you make it sound like I care what anyone thinks of me. Standin' up for myself ain't the same as caring. There's a difference. Learn it."

Of course he cared, but there was no outward display of it whatsoever. Of course it still hurt somewhere deep inside of him. But centuries of that treatment really helped in building a near flawless mask, cracks that certainly wouldn't be visible to even an acquaintance, let alone a total stranger.

"I'll answer it for ya. Probably been runnin' a lot. Anyone like us? They run, they learn ta fight, or they die. Ya obviously ain't been fightin' enough, where's the thick skin? Ya gonna get scared and cry if I yell at ya? 'Cause that's life, and it ain't gonna change no matter how long ya live when y'er mixed blood. I can tell y'er a runner just by the way you reacted."

A single golden eye opened halfway, if just to observe her. There was a time in his life where Inuyasha did nothing but run. Just a little kid, with humans and demons alike trying to kill him, and he couldn't defend himself. But he could now. Older, more experienced, and bitter towards most of the world.

"But I ain't gonna attack ya or anything. Probably happens enough to ya already. Happens ta me too, it's just what we are."

Man, what the hell is up with this guy? Whatever apology she had for him has now vanished upon hearing such things and she stands back up in a bit of anger.

"You don't like being treated badly and then go and say that whenever anyone apologizes for it and felt genuine remorse over it. You're a walking contradiction."

Right now she thinks that hanyou is just another word for hybrid. She turns her back to him with a sigh and her ears lowered back down before speaking.

"However. I also ask myself that very question...."

She can feel nearly all of the scars on her body begin to hurt. It is a burning and aching sensation but she ignores it to remain standing.

[tenwhiteandalusians]

and then no one said anything about the fact that if i watched ONE MORE episode tenax pulls a "i'm not angry i'm just disappointed i'm hurt" about scorpus signing with the white faction.

[juliareed]

You still cling to naive ideals. I learned, at a very young age, the only currency worth anything in this world is power.

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

light/moderate spoilers for 3-MS but do you think jenny would have Done That if she and jeremy weren't on camera? because personally i don't

[tardis--dreams]

Me panicking because i have 9 missed calls and 5 emails talking about my absence and how "a colleague could take over for me" vs. Me knowing it's really not that important no matter how pushy a client is and that on top of it I'm underpaid and have way to much overtime so i shouldn't even care

[soutsuji]

Do you even understand what Chiori was to Morisu

[monumentethos]

Crazy that I tried to kill myself yesterday. It feels like it was years ago. It doesn't feel real. It wasn't me, y'know? It was something else that compelled me to the river. I snapped out of it when I got there, then texted my mom to come pick me up and she drew me a bath and gave me an emergency mood stabilizer. But it's crazy that it happened in the first place.

[theglassofmiddleearth]

Imagine Being Isekai'ed into KPOP DEMON HUNTERS. (part 2)

This chapter is mainly Abby (Abel) oriented!) Each member will get a chapter since you guys showed so much support!

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Y/N awoke, gasping much needed air into her lungs as she sat up. Clasping one hand to her chest, she panted, reliving all her memories, as the flow of thoughts slowly settled into her mind.

‘Hey, hey. It’s okay, you’re safe.’ A familiar voice whispered, gentle and soft. The owner of the voice had meant for it to be reassuring, but Y/N instantly recognised the voice. It was Jinu, the popstar demon.

But he was dead? All the Saja boys were meant to be dead. If they were still alive, this meant she had transmitigated before they debuted. 

She had time to stop the events of the plot. She could make sure none of the boys died. Maybe she could even…

‘Gwi-ma…’ She whispered, eyes still fixated on the crisp white bed sheets she was sitting on. The sheets wrinkled as she grasped onto them, fists trembling in unspoken anger.

She almost forgot about the demon lord, the one who caused all this. He was the reason the men died. He was the reason so many people had died. All the innocent people who had lost their souls, just because Gwi-ma wanted more than he had.

‘She knows about Gwi-ma?’ Another voice, deep and dry mumbled, from her right side.

Y/N lifted her head slowly, eyes meeting Jinu’s hesitantly, concerned gaze. Wow, he was good at masking his emotions. Her gaze danced between all the men who were standing in the room. Each had a slightly different stance. Yet, each seemed to be leaning towards her, eager to hear her voice. To swallow up whatever noise she would make next.

‘Where am I?’ Y/N’s voice came out, a scarily, even tone. The room was unfamiliar, meaning that she was likely at the Saja boy’s own residence. It wasn’t too bad, it was a pent house too. She could tell by the way the room was almost fully covered in glass window.

In fact…

Wait.

This was the penthouse right next to hers. 

SHE COULD SEE HER OWN MINI STUDIO SET UP, THROUGH THE TALL GLASS WINDOWS FROM HERE.

‘I need to invest in curtains.’ She mumbled, staring at the revealing scene of her apartment. Luckily for her, she had cleaned up just days ago, just after she finished up producing Golden. Otherwise, she couldn't imagine the embarrassment that she would be facing if the men saw her… personal belongings.

‘I hope you don’t mind that we’ve taken up residence near your home. It’s just that much easier for us y’know?’ The buff one smirked, sitting down on the bed, leaning towards Y/N’s face.

‘Alright enough with this pretty boy act. I’m not helping you kill thousands upon thousands of people.’ Y/N swung her legs over the side of the bed to stand.

‘What if-’

‘No matter how painful the memories are.’ Y/N snapped, whirling around, her body flush with rage.

She could see it. The shame, the flash of pain and sudden confusion in Jinu’s eyes. She chose to ignore the pang of regret that rippled through her chest. He dug his grave. He could lay in it for all she cared.

��How do you-’ Jinu stuttered out before Y/N pushed him out of her way. 

Grabbing a random jacket, she used it to cover her shoulders as she walked out of the bedroom, into the spacious living area. It was decorated with a modern feel, suitable for a seemingly new rising pop band. It looked to be fairly new in its decoration. No one had lived here previously. Y/N remembered this since the apartment before was empty of furniture. At least this meant they hadn’t taken the lives of anyone yet. 

How pretentious.

Finding the front door, she stalked out of the apartment and into the elevator, pulling the jacket around her tight. 

Her notebook.

It wasn’t with her, the guys must have taken it from her whilst she was out cold.

Y/N groaned, slapping a hand onto her forehead as the elevator doors opened.

‘You have some serious talent.’ 

Y/N blinked, as she was met with the view of Abby, waiting at the elevator door entrance.

‘How did you-’

‘Demon, remember?’ He chuckled, moving aside, gesturing for Y/N to pass through. ‘Besides, you left your note book so I thought I’d return it.’ 

Y/N gave Abby a once over, pondering his trustworthiness. She relaxed slightly, as she took back the notebook from Abby’s outstretched hand.

‘Y’know, Jinu’s pretty shaken about what you said.’ He kept talking, walking side by side with her as she walked out of the Saja boy’s apartment building and into the doors of her own building.

‘I stand by what I said. I’m not helping you kill people.’ She whipped around, jabbing a finger into the muscular man's chest.

‘Hey, look. I don’t actually care what happens.’ Abs shrugged, gently placing his palm over Y/N’s accusing finger. His face was soft, eyes sincere in a way Y/N simply couldn’t refute.

‘Then why are you here Abby?’ Y/N swiped her key card and punched in the top level into the elevator panel. To her displeasure, Abby had also slid into the elevator with her.

‘Call me Abel.’ He grinned, leaning back against the handrails, arms crossed. ‘I’m here because I wanted to walk you home. We’re here because Jinu wants to forget. You were right.’ He sighed as the elevator rose higher with a soft hum.

‘And you? The rest of the group?’ Y/N turned, mimicking Abel’s pose.

‘I’m here because Jinu’s my friend. Despite what your friends say about us, we do have feelings. Humans and demons are not all unalike. In fact, I’ve seen humans act more like demons than we do.’ His eyes glazed over, as if stuck in a memory of his own.

‘We feel more than just greed and shame, but you’re not ready for that conversation.’ The grip on his arms was tight. Y/N could see the way his fingertips were turning white.

‘I never said you couldn’t feel anything.’ Y/N turned back to face the opening elevator doors as the elevator happily dinged. 

‘All I said was, I wasn’t going to help you kill thousands of people so Jinu can feel better, about his mistakes.’

‘I get that, and you’re right.’ Abel agreed, as Y/N walked into her apartment, gesturing for him to follow her.

‘But for some reason, I can feel that you’ll be the one to change it. All of it.’ Abel’s eyes trailed on Y/N’s form as she took off her shoes before flipping open her notebook. Y/N didn't take it to heart, yet to Y/N's ignorance, Abel was being genuine.

Y/N frowned, sitting on a bar stool at her marbled kitchen island. Pulling out a pen from her pocket she scribbled something down. The original song was already written in her notebook, the title and almost all the words. It seemed as if, she had written all the backbones of the songs in the movie already.

‘The girls are going to know you’re demons. If I can see the patterns, so can they.’ She pointed her pen at the man who sat down across from her.

‘Huh, you have more than one seat. You have friends?’ He chuckled, dodging Y/N’s thrown pen whilst catching it in one swift movement.

‘You want your stupid song or not.’ She snatched the pen back, grumbling. It seemed like these guys were intent on teasing her. What assholes.

‘I couldn’t care less.’ He grinned, before suddenly clutching at his head. The smile on his face was gone in an instant, replaced with one marred by agony.

‘Ah..’

Y/N stood, her stool being pushed back with an ear wrenching screech. 

‘What, what's wrong?’ Y/N rushed over, hands hovering over Abel’s shivering form. ‘Talk to me!’

‘Ugh, just my head. Gwi-ma wasn’t too happy about that comment.’ Abel chuckled spitefully, pushing into his forehead with his index and middle finger.

‘He can hear your thoughts?’ Y/N frowned, leaning forward to observe the man in front of her. He seemed to be in genuine pain. She gently reached forward to touch Abel’s right temple with her fingers.

‘Yeah, he whispers in our minds. It’s how he controls us-’

A flash of gold and white blue. As if the strings she could see at the concert had suddenly erupted from her fingertips and rippled across Abel’s patterns in an instant.

‘What the.’ Y/N jerked her hand back, as if she had been shocked with static electricity.

A warm hand wrapped around her wrist, gentle yet insistent.

‘What did you do?’ Abel looked up in wonder, his eyes filled with slight suspicion.

‘What do you mean what did I do?’ Y/N blinked, looking between her caught hand and Abel’s glittering eyes.

‘I can’t hear him. Gwi-ma. My head, it’s silent… I can hear myself think.’ He sounded just as shocked as Y/N felt. ‘I haven’t been able to think on my own for years.’

‘I just, I touched your temple. I didn’t even-’ 

‘I have to tell the boys. We have to show them!’ He stood quickly, releasing Y/N’s wrist, taking large strides towards the elevator.

‘But, the song?’ Y/N blinked, waving her notebook.

‘Bring it with you!’

‘Okay but wait. Listen for a second.’ Y/N tugged at Abel’s sleeves. The man turned around, eyebrows raised. His heart thumped as his gaze flitted toward Y/N's hand.

‘Jinu wouldn’t be happy about this. He wants Gwi-ma to win.’ Y/N’s reminder, halted Abel’s excitement quickly. 

‘Damn. I didn’t think about that.’ His eyebrows creased into a deep scowl.

‘Okay look. I’ll write you a debut song. But you have to promise me, you won't take souls.’ Y/N’s grip tightened on Abel’s shirt. He softened his stance and turned back to Y/N.

‘I’ll do my best darlin' ’He hummed, placing a reassuring hand over her fist.

‘Alright. I’ll write your song. Get your boys to come over. I’ll set up my studio.’ 

‘Really?!’

'Really.'

'You're serious? You'll write for us?!'

‘Offer ends in five minutes.’

‘OKAY OKAY.’ 

Y/N rubbed her hand over her weary eyes. Writing the song would take minutes. Recording, mastering and mixing would take hours. Maybe she wasn’t going to sleep tonight.

She heaved a sigh, walking over to her set up, spotting Abel waving his arms frantically around in the apartment next to her.

Wow, he was fast.

She continued watching the interaction between the men, smiling slightly at the sight. If she didn’t know, it almost seemed like a real boy band, rejoicing over finding their new producer. The way each was frantically grabbing phones and note books was actually refreshing. As if they were truly excited about debuting.

Y/N shook her head, sitting down in her gaming chair,  booting up her PC. She still had to be careful. Abel was the only one she had actually spoken to. And who knows, he could also be faking it. 

She failed to see Jinu’s figure, looking through the glass, his face bewildered as he peered at Y/N flitting around, testing all her equipment.

Part 3

Tag list: @ajunoiseee @silverklaus @thesimppotato11 @devilchicc @imlost-sendhelp @tumblblob @arieslucy @maybeethan69 @t4naiis @6demonica9 @suzieq1948374 @katzline @justyourlocalfriendlydinosaur @1950schick @myjerseygirlblog @sky2lar @itsjustkhaos @nevermorekisses @valeriele3 @yoongi-tunes @reibelhearts @satansdaughter123 @iheartyourgrandpa @justanindiangirl12 @uniquecutie-puffs @xyndyn @akiqvq

[lostalioth]

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭

→ premise: eddie wasn’t convinced you were as innocent as you acted. his pervy thoughts of you were often guided by all the little dirty things you did. he knew he shouldn’t think that way you were his friend after all but you had to know what you were doing to him right?

→ pairing: perv!bestfriend!eddie x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, 2.1k words, corruption kink, dacryphilia, frontagge? [eddie rubs his dick against her til he cums?] unprotected penetration, small bit of degrading language [whore], nicknames [baby, pretty girl, sweets, pretty best friend], reader is described to wear eddies shirt and pink/girly clothing a bit, not proofread

→ a/n: kinktober 12

Eddie was a touchy guy, a very touchy best friend in fact. He seemed to lack any awareness of personal space when it came to you.

Having you sit in his lap during movie nights whether it's just the two of you or if Robin or Steve join in. Laying his head in your lap while you play with his hair and his hands palm at your thighs tracing shapes on them. Draping his arm over your shoulders and pulling you to his side when you're in the middle of a conversation with someone or leaning his body weight against you. Now to you and your naive mind, you found all this and everything else he may do as innocent, you didn't understand why everyone new you met assumed the two of you were dating.

Except for Eddie everything he did, he had a little pervy underlying reason to it. Leaning on you and pulling your body against his to feel your soft skin on his and subconsciously claiming you as his. Sitting you in his lap to feel the heat radiating from your pussy on his cock even through multiple layers of fabric. Laying his head on your lap and rubbing on your thighs Imagining his head is buried between them instead.

Constantly he came up with any excuse he could to have his hands on you, to have your body against his, even rub up against you when given the chance when he’d scoot behind you to get somewhere even if there was a clearer path to his destination. Rubbing his bulge lightly against your ass when he’d brush by. To him there was no way you weren’t aware of his intentions when he did these things and all the little pervy moves he made. Every dirty thought he had or thing he did was guided by the seemingly not so innocent things you would do.

Though you weren’t actually aware of just what the things you'd do, did to poor ole’ Eddie. Batting your eyelashes at him when you wanted to be the one to pick the movie, pressing your body against him of your own accord when a scary part came on during one of his movie picks. He even swears though he isn’t 100% sure it wasn't a very vivid dream that you were grinding your ass against him for a second one time you were sitting in his lap.

It was currently one of those frequent movie nights and Eddie was painfully hard, his cock has been aching the moment he walked inside your house. Part of it sure was that he was just excited to have quality time with his pretty little best friend but then when he came in and saw the state you were in he was a goner. You were more comfortable around Eddie than anyone and you had opted to be cozy so all you had on was a long t-shirt and frilly pink socks, no pants on. Being the perv he was and with the fact he couldn't tell exactly he was secretly wishing you didn't have any panties on either.

Eddie got to pick the movie and it was one he’d seen a million times over so it didn't matter that he couldn't bring himself to pay attention. His eyes glued to you, your thighs exposed almost more than they are when you wear your tiny lacey skirts that also almost kill Eddie. Any last drop of reserve or self-control he had was slowly draining away from his body.

If he thought too hard about everything he felt like a piece of shit bestfriend that all he could think of during movie nights anymore was bending you over your living room couch and claiming your pussy as his. Making you his as you whine and moan that it's too much to take and he tells you what a good girl you’re being. Expect there was a small denranged part of him that desperatly wanted to corrupt your sweet naive mind until you’re the one who can only think about him fucking you, making you just as much of a pervert as he was.

Far too lost in own dirty thoughts he fails to notice that the movie has now ended, meaning it was your turn to pick and he should probably stop staring at your body.

“That was a good movie. Ed's wasn't as scary of a movie as you usually pick” your sweet voice snaps him out of his trance and he reluctantly tears his gaze away from your thighs crossed over one another.

“Oh uh yeah, figured I’d pick a calmer one this time for you sweets” he explains, lightly coughing as he squeezed the pillow that's been covering his lap this whole time, a small smile that doesn't reach his eyes forms on his face as he finally turns his attention to your face. Though switching his focus fails to dull the throbbing in his stiff cock, if it goes on any longer there's definitely going to be a wet spot in his boxers. You smile back at him before getting up from the couch, running over to the kitchen and putting the empty popcorn bowl in the sink. He watches as you walk away, a small groan leaving his lips, it didn't help that the shirt you wore was one of his old hellfire shirt’s. You in his clothes always made his heart ache just as much as his dick, you often stole his shirts or hoodies which didn't help people thinking you were dating and Eddie secretly loved that.

With a bounce in your step you make your way back over to the couch, standing more in front of Eddie as you do. Bending at the waist you lean over to pick the remote up off the oddly low coffee table, your shirt riding up as you do. Giving him an agonizingly perfect view of your ass and the mound of your pussy in your little pink panties. “Oh fuck..” he groans out, his knuckles turning white from how hard he is gripping the pillow infront of him. You turn around facing him now as you lean back up, having heard Eddie mumble out something. “What’d you say Ed’s??” You question with a cute look of confusion on your face.

His last ounce of composure and restraint flies out the window as he throws the pillow off his lap and grabs ahold of your hips pulling you into his lap.

“You fucking feel that pretty girl? That’s what you do to me, fuckin’ killing me sweets” he groans out, his bulge pressed right against your cunt, his jeans and your thin panties do nothing to stop him from feeling the heat settling in your core. you gasp out dropping the remote onto the cushion besides you as you feel just how hard he is. The cold metal of his rings sends a shiver down your spine when his hands push up at your shirt, bunching it up as they go. “But- I didn't do anything, or- I didn't mean to anyway Ed’s” you manage to stutter out, taken aback by both his abruptness and how good his cock feels against you even confined in denim. Lifting you up before letting go of your hips for a second so you're hovering over him, he unbuckles his belt and button to his jeans before tugging them down his thighs. “Ed’s I-I dont think best friends do this…” you whine out yet don't make any move to stop him as he grabs ahold of your hips again, planting your pussy right on his cock again with only thin underwear separating you now. You may be naive and innocent but you weren't a virgin you were well aware of what he was doing.

“it’s okay baby, just be my pretty little best friend and let me play with you okay, my cocks aching for ya’ yeah?” His tone is soft and slurred, his head going hazy in desire for you and the fact you were letting him go this far. “Mhmm~ okay i can do that” you whine out, your hips having a mind of their own squirming and grinding against him as his hands rub down your thighs.

“Atta girl sweets, s’good to me, always so sweet on me” he groans out as his fingers inch closer and closer to your aching pussy. Your slick has managed to begin soaking your panties, while Eddie's tip leaks precum forming a matching wet spot on his boxers. Tugging your panties to the side he runs his middle and ring finger through your slick folds, running over your clit that jumps at the small bit of attention. Your breath catches in your lungs as your eyes are glued to where your best friend's hands are playing with your leaking pussy. “Eddie.. it feels s’good” you whine out your hips bucking at his touch every time his fingers brush over your bundle of nerves.

“Look at you pretty girl, so fucking wet f’me like a little fucking whore” he groans out as he pushes down at his boxers, you lift your hips to help subconsciously. He pushes them down only enough to let his cock spring free, his cock thick, tip reddened and as veins run along the underside of his shaft. Your eyes are entranced by the sight, your mouth watering and your hole clenching around nothing, who knew your best friend had such a pretty cock.

Grabbing onto the base of his cock he angles it to nudge open your slit and run his tip through your soaked folds, grinding his shaft against your pussy. “Ahh~ pleasee Ed’s need you inside” you whine out, already getting overwhelmed, his cock rubbing against your bundle of nerves and tip just barely pushing at your hole before slipping out. The ongoing teasing and desire for him to push inside you crowd your head making it go fuzzy. “Nooo not yet baby, not till you're begging for it, gotta corrupt my sweet innocent little best friend til shes a cock hungry whore begging for me to fuck her” he chuckled darkly, even though he was more desperate than you to finally push into the warm heat of your cunt he was gonna make you beg for it.

Tears well up in your eyes threatening to fall as you buck against him in response to his hips grinding against your pussy. “Aww ya’ gonna cry sweets? Go on cry baby, beg for it” he groans out, he knew it was sick but as your tears fall down your cheeks he can feel his balls tighten, heavy and full of cum that's almost ready to burst. Your slick and his precum mix together to soak your panties, the thin fabric turning see through as he hooks it over his cock to keep it pressed between your folds.

“Fuck im gonna cum pretty girl, should cum in these fuckin’ flimsy panties and ruin em’ then stuff them in your mouth as i stuff this pussy” he growls out, his words making your pussy throbbing and your head spin, your head nodding frantically desperate for him to do exactly that. “Yeah baby? Want me to do that?” He taunts, a lopsided smirk glued to his lips as he leans in closer, forehead pressed against yours while your tears continue to fall down your cheeks, your eyes turning red and puffy the longer you cry out in pleasure.

“Please Ed’s yes!~ please need you to cum and i need you to fuck me please” you moan out, a deep stasifaction settled in eddie at your plea and he surges forward to press his lips to yours muffling your whines. Your thighs burning from grinding desperately against him, the last string of Eddie's snaps just as you dig your nails into his biceps and cry out his name into the heated frantic kiss. Hot ropes of cum spurt out and coat the inside of your panties and paint your puffy folds. Not stopping his thrusting Eddie grabs his cock that's still sandwiched under your now ruined panties and guides his still leaking tip to your entrance. Pulling away from your lips, he slaps his hand over your mouth just as he pushes inside you in one sharp hard thrust. A cry of pleasure and maybe some pain falls from your lips, along side a long line of curse muffled agianst his rough hand as he fucks up into the wet heat of your pussy that clenches down on him.

“My pretty bestfriend’s gonna be such a good fuckin’ cock drunk whore, all f’me now, all mine” all you can do in nod in respone, your eyes nearly rolling back in pleasure.

→ a/n: I rushed the end of this so i could get it out today and get back on track with kinktober lmao and somehow its still 2 thousand words and some change lmao but anyway enjoy loves give me feedback and tell me if something is misspelled this wasnt read over as im tired.

[sangunary]

- Hush now Crybaby.

YANDERE BATFAMILY X NEGLECTED READER.

\\ Part 1 // \\ Part 2 // \\ Part 3 //.

You would stay by your rotting corpse, gently brushing your hair out of your face or just starting at it in general. Your corpse was becoming stiff and extremely cold, at times you tried to warm it by holding it.

A soft sigh left your mouth as you give up on trying to warmth the body display infront of you.

"How much longer do I have to wait...?"

You've been thinking alot, wondering why your body is still chained to Earth and you realised your physical body never got the rest it deserves.

The body laying on your coffin underground was a decoy made by your father, as twisted as it sound he only did it in hope of putting your soul back into the body.

Alfred and Bruce knew that, they knew that your current physical body was hidden inside the batcave. Alfred was hesitant at first but Bruce assure him that what he was doing might be morally wrong but it was the best option they have, if they want a new start.

Even after death nothing was better, your life only change slightly and it was for the worst. No one could see or interact with you, but you can uncover all the secrets which was alot more depressing than you expected.

You've found out how your mother died recently after a drug overdose... She was found stiff and unresponsive in her motel and a foam seeping out her mouth, surprisingly everything was clean, no missing things or any sing of struggle.

It was ruled as a sucide, the media claimed it as 'Woman killed herself after her daughter died of her neglection' it was Ironic... You couldn't help but stump your feet a little at that information, first your mother would never neglect you... and Second she was the best mother you could wish for.

You couldn't bear the silence inside the room so you decided to go outside to check on a particular individual.

Dick Grayson.

He was sitting infront of your grave cleaning it with his bare hand, replacing the previous flowers with Rose's. Since your relationship with him was on the edge when you died he doesn't even know your particular taste in flowers , as a result he would pick out new flowers everyday and replace them each day.

Your ghostly figure sit next to his watching him clean your grave once again, atleast he was being productive. Some especially Tim was coping in an unhealthy way.

Locked himself and barely ate anything, everything reminded him of you... His favourite coffee was now leaving an extremely bitter taste on his tongue, it was only because he realised how involved you were in his life and how without you his daily routine weren't the same.

Tim have also started to spiral into madness, doing research on you instead of his usual detective work. Who have hurt you and who have been nasty to you, he was willing to do anything but blame himself for your death or the family.

He's been looking back at every video footage of you and him and storing it into new files each file were specifically made for each video.

"Im sorry little wing... I couldn't find anything new today, so you'll have to take this for today"

Grayson gently murmured as he pluck out the old Lily's- old by one day - Wiping the vase carefully, holding as if it were the most fragile vase in the word.

"Life been abit hard... I know I shouldn't burden you with my problem especially when... You never had them. But, Kory and I took a break..."

His voice was more high-pitched than normal... Yet he continues to look after your grave, dealing it with great tenderness.

His mind flashing back to everything he had done wrong, prioritising joker over you... He remembered how he left you inside a burning building and instead saved the joker, as a result you got a nasty burn mark on your left hand.

Although he doesn't know who to blame you or the joker. Cause you're a hero, he thought you could save yourself... It doesn't matter that you were like what 7? Thought he did half heartily apologise after being lectured by Bruce.

"If you were back... Everything would be fine, im not blaming you of course... Just, I don't know anything good from bad especially after you left us"

"I do not know what possess you to be so reckless... I can't imagine what you must have felt but it's selfish"

"If you were here, Kory and I would take you before any of those... people could. It'll be just the three of us, I'll be the one you will depend on... You won't need to worry anymore, We'll never let you get hurt. Never again"

Dick continues to pour his heart out and slowly he began to smile, his mood began to shift from gloomy to thrilled, suggesting places and activities as if you were still alive.

If anybody was to come across this interaction it's either they'll lable him as mentally challenged or is high on sadness that they ended up talking to a grave.

You stood up getting ready to walk away, it's abit hard to pity them. They never acknowledged you when you were breathing and it's messed up that they only care after realising their mistakes.

"...Huh?"

A mysterious man was standing infront of you, you wouldn't be startled if he wasn't staring right into your eyes. A white lantern...?

You know him only because of the file you would read when you were bored out of your mind. Bruce must have called him, afterall he was a very new and surprising face to see in Gotham.

"...Nice to meet you?"

After your short introduction and your very long introduction on why he must not interfere at all, because as much as it suck being a ghost being alive with your current family would be hell.

Thought he does not seem to value your opinion at all, directly telling Bruce about your presence.

"You can speak... she can hear you"

Deadman informed Bruce.

"I apologise for my negligence and your mother unexpected death. She was a great woman just like you... I don't expect you to forgive so easily but, I want to see you smile again"

You didn't utter a word. You wanted to comfort him yet it was hard pitting the same man who avoid your presence when you were alive.

"Can't you bring her back...?"

"No, she's too far gone"

Your corpse look fine from outside but your inside were rotting and molding. Bruce tried his best yo preserve your body but what's gone is gone. All you want is for your body to rest.

"I refuse to believe. There must be a way for her to be back."

"I have no saying in logic. But there are artifact's that allows one to see ghost"

"I will do anything to see that smile again... I want to apologise to her face to face as well"

Your Father was one of the rare people in the family taking the responsibility in your death, this wasn't the first time he utter an apology. He would slept in your bed missing you, crying or talking in his sleep apologising it seem as the guilt never stopped chasing him.

Though he was the same man who left you unattended during gala surrounded by random man while you were a child. The same one who lecture your brother for leaving you in a fire only because he would have to explain why the burnt mark was there and not because it was wrong.

It was only natural for guilt to cling onto him the longest, he already lost Jason. But you were different, Jason died while having a somewhat happy memories. You died with nothing but bitterness and salty tears.

As much as you would love to fulfill your father's dream you couldn't help but be uncomfortable.

You've overhead Bruce and Jason conversation once and you regretted it. Jason being the most experienced in dying suggested the worst thing possible.

A new bedroom, made just for your liking.

A dingy room with chains to restrain you. All the window must have bars, even if you somehow managed to broke the iron chain you wouldn't be able to jump out and possibly risk breaking a bone.

"It's a necessity, I went mad when I came back, what gives you the idea that she won't be the same and in our case you'll be her first victim"

Jason harshly spit out. You couldn't help but disagree you wouldn't dare to hurt your family, even if they have hurt you in unexplainable ways. Your heart still ache for them in vain.

"Even if she dare to break out I have another method, far more wise and useful but I rather we use it as a last resort"

The last resort was, smashing your ankle. It was simple and Jason already have experience to make sure you won't be in more pain than necessary.

To put anything between your foot and for that object to be used as a support, tying the foot and arm's to restrain you. With a hammer all they have to do was to smash the bone into pieces, you wouldn't be able to walk at all but it was also necessary to treat the bone to avoid disability.

If the bone was to be left to heal by itself it would reconstruct themselves wrong leaving you to excruciating pain, not being able to depend on your foot and you might need to cut your foot off.

Another reason why you dread to be brought back, no amount of convincing or pleading would make them understand... They'll break you and rebuild you as if that was nothing.

They can't treat you like a daughter or a sister even tho they seem so willing... To you they only love you because of the guilt and not because they understand.

Damian was a reason itself, didn't even let a single tear drop during your funeral and the visit at the hospital. He did cry in secret which was pleasant to watch.

He's either beating people into pulp for the smallest crime or is actively trying to bring you back in another form. He have asked Raven to assist him but even the girl found it inhuman, suggesting for him to just mourn you and let your soul be in peace.

It was now noon the whole family jam inside the living room discussing.

"She can't be brought back? Jason died, the Lazarus pit can and must brought her back"

Damian argued, as much as he doesn't wanted to be emotional your absence was taking a toll on him.

You were the first to treat him like a human and he took that for granted. When he realised others weren't as understanding as you were he would get bothered... As much as he hate you that was just the crust of his heart, to him the core matter more... It was totally not an excuse for his horrible behaviour.

"You haven't tried that, father we must try before coming into conclusion!"

"I have tried Damian, nothing worked. Her body was rotting from the inside I was not aware"

Finally Barbara spoke up.

"You have tried? I have been visiting her grave everyday when did you di-"

"It was a decoy"

Jason decided to told the truth. The room felt into a long silence and suddenly shouting and names. They weren't happy that Bruce didn't tell them about the decoy, to them that was a breach of trust Bruce desperately tried to build after your death.

"Silence! There is another way we can see her, Deadman suggested using special artifact's that allows people to see ghost... We will us that as a temporary comfort and we'll find a way to bring her back... with us "

Everybody agreed, unknowns to them you were contemplating life whether you should leave your family and risk the chance of being brought back to life against your will or... Leave.

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