#can I not find it because I forgot the tag or did the author take it down??? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aurumalatus · 4 months ago

Text

𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 [𝟑]

pairing. kinich x fem!reader

word count. 3.6k

genre/warnings. childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff and angst, drabble collection, cursing, mentions of abuse/alcoholism, character death and graphic descriptions of death, mentions of vomit

summary.

in which kinich learns the value of all things: lives, friendship, and, of course, you. or, in which kinich realizes that you are the only priceless thing in this world.

author's note. this one is... a lot. take heed of the warnings/let me know if there's something i forgot to tag! i might've missed some errors because it's late so i will fix in the morning, otherwise please enjoy! reblogs/interaction highly appreciated!

↢ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ↣

𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗗𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗢𝗡 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗟𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗚𝗢

When the meadows grow full and lush, Kinich awaits your reappearance.

The winter had been long—with his crops iced over, he’d had to rely on hunting to survive. His mother’s absence had taken a heavy toll on his family (though he uses the word loosely), and his father somehow finds more time to drink his life away. Now the sole homemaker, Kinich finds himself as his father’s newfound punching bag as well.

He discovers that he has a talent for patching wounds and bruises.

Some days, the man awakens in the dead of night, freshly sober—Kinich can hear him crying his mother’s name in the dark. He doesn’t know whether to take that as regret, or simply loneliness.

They don’t talk. They never really did, but the silence grows quickly, curling and weaving and winding like vines through the house, until Kinich can feel it wrapping his throat shut. Days and weeks go by without him talking to anyone at all.

Still, he moves on.

The ice finally melts, and he welcomes the sight of animals returning from hibernation, despite how they nip at his garden. New life sprouts from the ground, and it’s only a matter of time before you appear in the forest again as well.

This time, you’re touting a burlap bag of Quenepa Berries, and you offer him one as he approaches.

“They’re sweeter at this time of year,” you comment, before popping one of the fruits into your mouth. He accepts and does the same—this batch is fattened and sweet, he thinks as the juice dribbles down his chin. You must have an eye for a good harvest.

“You came back,” is all he replies, as a greeting.

An incredulous expression crosses your face, almost judgmental—you hold the bag of berries away from him as teasing punishment. “You thought I wouldn’t?”

He reaches over you, quick as a fox, catching one of the fruits in his fingers.

“Don’t know.”

There’s no way to tell you about his mother’s disappearance, at least not one that he’s confident about. After all, he feels there’s no logic in informing you anyway—there’s no solution that you could potentially offer, and it’s not as though it affects you. But it’s the thought of that, and the lasting image of her footsteps, that had instilled this fear within him.

The fear that you would never return.

But you’re here, he soothes himself, another berry in your outstretched palm. He takes it, just as your voice rings out again.

“So, do your parents not like girls?”

The skin of the fruit catches in his throat at your question, and he lets out a series of wet coughs—you pat his back, eyes wide with concern. It takes a few moments for him to return to his senses.

“What are you talking about?” he splutters, uncharacteristically flustered.

You don’t seem to notice, too absorbed in picking through your bag—you prefer the lightest blue berries, the ones that are still slightly unripe. Perhaps you enjoy the tartness they offer.

“I don’t know,” you reply. “It just seems like you don’t want your parents to see me.”

And there’s no easy way to explain his situation, so he doesn’t. Instead, he hums, watching the birds soar by overhead. His heart vaguely tugs with jealousy at the sight of them.

“It’s not that. My parents just…don’t like people hanging around our house. That’s why we moved out of the village.”

Not a total lie, he reasons—the financial issues were the root cause, but his father had also grown tired of neighbors attempting to intervene in his parents’ endless disputes. It had given him hope, for a time, that someone might be able to remedy the situation.

But that hope was quickly snuffed out.

“Makes sense,” you say, tracing shapes in the dirt with your foot. You draw a heart, a smiley face, and then something that looks like a defective Yumkasaurus. “Your dad is the mean one, right?”

You’re still not quite educated on social faux-pas at your age, and Kinich almost chokes again.

“What?”

Something rustles in the bushes nearby—an animal scared away by the sudden loudness of his voice.

“He always used to yell at me when I’d come around to leave you things,” you explain, overwhelmingly casual. “Smelled like that stuff that us kids aren’t allowed to go near in the market.”

Kinich vaguely remembers hearing his parents argue about something like that, but all the fighting tends to blur together after a time. He’s not sure how to reply to that, or what you might think if he did.

So he doesn’t.

He asks you about your winter instead, a topic change that you welcome eagerly. You tell him about the village, the white-topped roofs and the way the Yumkasauri would redden and sneeze, whelps hiding in their mother’s wings. You tell him about how you tried ice skating on the frozen river, recounting how many times you fell flat on your face. The thought makes him smile faintly.

He’s almost surprised by how enthusiastic you are about it—you’d told him before about your parents’ death in the cold season. He wonders how you seem to move past it all.

You turn your attention back to him, curious. “What about you? What happened during your winter?”

There’s a lot he could say, but none of it feels right, every word sticking to his tongue, stubborn.

“The winter felt really long,” he finally says, mostly to himself, chewing thoughtfully.

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye. “It did. But it’s not so bad, I think.”

He hums. “Really?”

You shrug. “Spring always comes again anyway.”

On Kinich’s seventh birthday, you knock at his door in the evening.

The November air is crisp, but not yet chilling. After all, the nation of Pyro tends to run warm until the very depths of winter. It’s for that reason that the fireplace still lies darkened and empty, and that the kitchen window is still open a crack.

The sound shocks him at first—it’s been a long time since anyone has visited at all, so much so that the dull thump is unfamiliar. Wilder animals tend to come out when the sun sets, so he tries to finish up his farming and hunting beforehand—at this time, he’s usually preparing some sort of meal for the next day.

He glances at the source of the noise, then at his father, slumped over the kitchen table, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth. The man will likely be asleep until the early morning anyway.

So Kinich pads to the door, pulling it open just a crack, and it’s your eye that peers back at him, curious.

Another inch, and then the rest of you is revealed to him—you’re holding a neatly wrapped box in your hands, an innocent smile spread across your lips.

His first words come out in a hiss.

“What are you doing here?”

He thinks he’s been quite clear about your need to return to the village by this time, for many reasons. It’s growing dark, a time where animals and humans alike grow more dangerous, and his father tends to be home. The man has a talent of putting Kinich in the worst moods, and he’d rather not spread that to you.

“It’s your birthday,” you greet, as an explanation, shrugging like it’s all so obvious. Kinich tilts his head.

“So?”

“So, we’re celebrating! I spent the whole day baking this cake with Chief Wayna’s help.”

Kinich steps outside, quietly letting the door shut behind him. The sunset sky is burning away at this time, pinks and reds fading into black and blue. The stars will be out soon.

“It’s nighttime,” he says, crossing his arms.

You nod vigorously, undeterred. “Yup! All so you can see the candles better. It looks so much cooler when it’s dark.”

It’s a ridiculous statement to someone like him, and Kinich is once again reminded how different the two of you are. His sense of logic doesn’t seem to align with your enduring enthusiasm. Still, he likes the fire that you have about you, and has no interest in snuffing it out, so he merely sighs and leads you away from the front door.

Once you’re a bit away, the house still in view, he looks to you again.

“So, what is it about candles?”

Without a reply, you turn away from him, fiddling with various things—he hears a match being lit, sees the faint light reflect from behind you—and then you’re facing him again, proudly holding out the cake.

There’s seven brightly colored candles sticking out from the top. The candlelight illuminates your face with a soft glow, a cheeky smile spreading across your lips.

“It looks good, right?”

Kinich peers down at the treat—it does look good, with the expensive kind of frosting that he used to look at longingly in the market. He hasn’t had something this sweet, this luxurious, in a long time, or maybe ever. When he glances back up, you’re staring up at him expectantly—he shrinks back from the pressure.

“What is it?” he asks, feeling self-conscious. You point to the candles.

“You have to blow it out.”

Vaguely, he thinks back on when he used to live in the village. He’s seen people hold birthday parties before (though he can’t say he’d ever been invited), but he’s not sure he’s heard of this tradition. Birthday celebrations weren’t something his family could ever afford anyway, or maybe they just didn’t care to.

Kinich realizes he doesn’t even know when his parents’ birthdays are.

But you’re still watching him, so he pushes that thought aside. Instead, he leans over and gently blows out the candles in three small puffs of breath.

“It’s fun, isn’t it?” You cheer, tilting the cake toward him. “I hope you made a wish!”

You’d forgotten to mention that before he blew out the candles, he thinks to himself, but he’s in no position to argue with your good will anyway. So he nods, silently making a wish after the fact.

“Alright, the best part is eating it,” you whisper conspiratorially, like you’re sharing a life-shattering secret. “And Elder Leik says it’s bad to have sugar before bed, but I think it’s okay just this once—”

“Kinich!”

That voice—

His heart freezes in his chest. Your face morphs in confusion, and then he’s grasping at your arm and yanking, hiding you behind him—you’re not much smaller than him, though, so it’s a futile effort. At the force, the cake slips out of your grip, smashing uselessly into the grass.

Kinich has half a mind to apologize, but he can’t—instead, he holds you tighter.

“Kinich?” A hoarse voice echoes in the dark. “Where the hell are you?”

“I’m here. I was just taking a walk,” he replies. His voice shakes at the edges of each syllable—he hopes his father doesn’t notice.

Something crunches in the distance; it’s the sound of grass underfoot. His father is coming this way, Kinich realizes in a panic. He glances back to your fearful eyes, clutching at the back of his thin t-shirt, and his chest burns with the desire to protect.

It’s too dim to see the man until he’s a few feet in front of you—he’s dressed in a tattered shirt and loose pants, feet dragging through the grass. His eyes narrow when he gets close enough, brows knitting together.

His gaze zeroes in on you, venomous. “It’s you again.”

The collar of Kinich’s shirt grows taut against his throat as you pull against him, afraid. He squeezes at your arm once, a comfort.

“You damn orphans, got nothing better to do? Just fucking around on my property, I should throw you off this goddamn cliff! Not like you got anyone to miss you.”

Kinich grits his teeth. “Leave her alone.”

His father laughs, a grating sound like nails on a chalkboard, then belches. The smell of cheap alcohol filters through the air, even from a distance.

“Go do something useful then. Too many useless people in this world, ha! Just like your damn mother.”

The mention makes the blood ice over in Kinich’s veins, a sharp frost crawling up his spine. Your grip loosens just a hair, likely in confusion, but the detail barely reaches his mind.

“You know where she is?”

The image of his mother’s footsteps in the newly fallen snow had never left his mind—he sees it in his nightmares, trapped and crawling in an endless frozen landscape, alone. He thinks of her when he farms, when he weaves, when he’s forced to eat another Grainfruit.

He thinks of her always, maybe, in the back of his mind.

And his father does too, maybe, based on the way his whole body seems to tighten with anger at the question. He doesn’t reply, at least not verbally.

You watch, horrified. Even as his father’s eyes glow with rage, even as he drunkenly hobbles toward you both, hands outstretched.

(Kinich blankly notes that they form the shape of his own neck.)

The man isn’t too coordinated, especially with the alcohol coursing through his veins—he stumbles a few times on the way, the grass seeming to curl around his ankles, slowing him down. Perhaps it’s the land’s way of protecting him, Kinich thinks.

He grabs your hand, pulling you behind him. “Come on!”

Kinich runs, wind whipping at his face, the way he always does when his father gets this way. He takes you through the backyard, toward the forest, where his father might lose sight of you both and give up the chase. He knows the paths there and knows them well—the shadows of the trees will protect you both.

But the man is picking up speed behind you, roaring about what he’ll do once he catches you.

“Kinich,” you wheeze. You’d already been semi-exhausted by your trek here, and certainly not expecting a sprint like this.

“I know,” he pants back. “Just a little more.”

You’re trying your hardest, he knows.

But he’s faster than you, and you stumble, lagging behind.

“Kinich!”

His father lunges, fingers barely grasping at the leg of your pants. A shriek erupts from your throat as you tumble to the ground in a twisted pile, and Kinich cries out with you, just as the cliff seems to rumble beneath his feet.

It happens in slow motion.

Kinich’s father meets his son’s gaze, enraged, then afraid. Terrified, just as he feels his legs dangle over the edge of the cliff, just as the weight of your smaller body pushes his torso over. Shocked, just as the rest of you starts to come down with him.

Your screams echo off the darkened mountain.

Kinich weighs his options—it doesn’t take long—and then leaps forward. His chest smacks painfully into the dirt, but he manages to grab your wrist just as you slip down the cliff.

“Kinich!”

His father is screaming his name, and so are you, pleading, begging for his help. And you’re still in his grasp, but you’re slipping, and his father is reaching for him, and if he could just grab him with his other hand, he could maybe pull you both up, but—

Kinich’s gaze meets your tear-filled eyes.

So he grits his teeth, clawing at the dirt, and with his other hand, he grabs—

You.

He doesn’t have time to catch his father’s expression—he doesn’t think he’d want to see it anyway—before he’s hauling you up, yanking you into his arms until you’re both collapsing into the grass. The crown of your skull clashes with his chin harshly.

His father is still bellowing curses, not that you seem to hear it over the sound of your screams and cries. But Kinich hears it, somehow, floating above the chaos and agony in your voice.

“It’s your fucking fault! This is all your fault!”

His eyes flutter shut as the voice fades away, and then grows silent.

It’s too quiet.

Even the crickets seem to censor themselves, hiding from the entire ordeal. Kinich releases his hold on you, rolling onto his stomach, then onto his knees. The grass seems to waver under his stare, rippling and oscillating until it feels like the entire world is quivering beneath him.

He barely registers that you’re struggling to pull yourself upright behind him.

You turn away from Kinich’s hunched form to vomit in the grass, overwhelmed by it all. A corpse lies at the foot of the cliff now, one that could’ve just as easily been you. One that might have actually been your fault. The thought makes you vomit again.

After a few more dry heaves, Kinich’s hand rubs at your back, the other gently easing your hair away from your mouth. You look over your shoulder at him, eyes filled with tears and nose dripping with snot.

“Kinich,” you sob, trying to catch your breath. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I was too slow, and he—he fell. I didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry. I know he wasn’t—I don’t—but that was your—your father—”

He takes you by the shoulders, forcing you to look at him—really look at him. His expression seems the same as always, but you know the difference. You note the quivering at the edge of his lips, the light sheen at the corners of his eyes. It disappears as quickly as you notice it, flattening under a disposition of stone.

“I weighed the value between you,” he says, gaze meeting your glassy stare. Your heart flutters. “And I chose you.”

And for a bit, you pretend that you can’t hear the thick lump in his throat, or the way his nose scrunches to keep the tears from slipping. Instead, you take his hand, struggling to your feet.

Kinich gives you a once-over—your pant leg is tattered now, a long strip of fabric ripped from the bottom. A flash of crimson peeks from under the remaining cloth.

Thin lines of blood bloom over the joint there, slowly running down the length of your leg.

“You’re bleeding,” he rasps, assessing the extent of your wound. It’s not deep—a skinned knee at most, which he’s grateful for. He’s treated much worse on his own body.

There’s so much to do, he thinks, pushing through the foggy haze permeating his mind. He has to retrieve his father’s body. He has to treat your wound. With his father gone, he needs to make a plan for his own survival.

It’s not as if his father ever really helped out anyway, but the thought of being truly, totally alone is harrowing. It takes another minute for him to remember that you’re still standing at his side.

“Go back to the house,” he mumbles, almost to himself. “Wait for me in the kitchen—”

“No!” You blurt, looking surprised despite yourself. Kinich jolts, meeting your eyes. “You’re going to get his body, right?”

After a moment of hesitation, he nods solemnly.

Kinich has looked down these cliffs many times; he knows the sheer height of them. There’s absolutely no chance that his father’s body is in any sort of good shape at the bottom. The thought makes bile rise in his throat.

You swallow. “So let’s go.”

The fear is reflected in the way your hands shake, but your shoulders straighten and you reach for him, slotting your fingers together. It’s the most bravery that you can manage, at least right now. Kinich accepts it gratefully.

Making your way down the cliff is treacherous with the little light you have. You don’t speak, barely even breathe. The stars lay watchful above, winking and illuminating your way.

Even with your hand in his, Kinich glances back occasionally, ensuring you’re still with him—you always are, still sniffling and scrubbing at your eyes.

It’s hard for you, and it’s obvious; he has to catch you several times when your foot slips off the stone, but you’re still with him. You’re still with him, he thinks. Kinich repeats it to himself a few times, letting it anchor him as he struggles down the rocks.

His father’s body is stiff by the time you reach it.

You’re too afraid to look at first, meekly standing behind him. It takes a few minutes before you work up the courage to peek over his shoulder, one hand over your mouth. Kinich isn’t sure whether to pray, or cry, or leave it all behind—for a few minutes, he doesn’t do anything at all.

The body is mangled, as he’d expected. You don’t dare to look at it again; you pace about the area, trying to keep your wits about you.

Everything about it is too familiar. He sees himself in the corpse, the blond hair fanned around the head like a halo, the golden eyes forever stuck in a faraway stare. The grappling hook that he always kept on his person.

His father. A half of him. His flesh and blood.

And he’d let him go.

Kinich feels for his own heartbeat over his shirt, fisting at the cloth there.

You are still alive, it whispers.

So he calls your name, soft. You peek at him through the darkness.

“We have to bring it back,” he murmurs.

And you, despite it all, despite the terror that licks hot up your neck, simply nod.

“Okay.”

As the two of you drag the corpse back toward the house, fingertips sticky with blood that freezes in the passing wind, Kinich realizes it—

This is the coldest November he’s ever experienced.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #kinich x reader #genshin impact #kinich #genshin impact imagines #kinich x you #adeptus ink #tw death #tw vomit #tw abuse

472 notes · View notes

urno1luv · 1 month ago

Note

Loved the fanfic of Sub!Giselle! 💜

Can you make a part two author nim, but make it longer?? Pleasee??

But no pressure! Take your time and have a break author nim!! Love youu 💜🫶

i didn't expect so many ppl to see my work omg...🫣but ofc!! i think this might be the only sub idol thing i write bc it took so long to get out of that mindset myself😭😭hope u like this ♡

part 1 for anyone who missed it, but it's also a standalone so it doesn't matter which order u read it in <3

tags: this is actually a very cute fic if you ignore the sex, sub gigi, bratty gigi, sexually frustrated gigi, sex(🤩), pussy eating (both recieving), face sitting, gigi has pierced nipples, mommy kink, ass slapping (gigi recieving)

💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

Living with your girlfriend was a test of patience you were constantly failing. It wasn’t just that she was bratty—it was the artistry behind her annoyance. She made being difficult seem like a sport, and you were her unlucky opponent. Gigi loved you very much, but sometimes you couldn't help but think she did this to rile you up on purpose. The reason for this? You would find out soon enough <33

"Can you not breathe so loud?" she asked one morning, flipping through her phone at the breakfast table.

You paused mid-chew, glaring at her. "I’m eating cereal."

"And I’m eating in peace—or I was," she snapped, taking a delicate sip of her iced Americano, which she’d made you buy because "I just can't function without caffeine."

She left dishes in the sink like a declaration of war. “I’m giving you a chance to prove your cleaning skills,” she said with a smirk when you confronted her, her lacy bra strap slipping down her pale shoulder. It was almost like she did that just for your attention...

“Giselle, you’re literally standing next to the dishwasher.”

“Yeah, but my nails are wet,” she whined, holding up perfectly dry, manicured fingers. “You’re welcome for the visual.”

And don’t get started on her shopping habits. Packages arrived daily, piling up at the door like a shrine to her online shopping addiction. One time, she ordered a $200 sweater and wore it ONCE.

“Why didn’t you return it if you didn’t like it?” you asked, baffled.

“Because the hassle is too much. I dont have time for that. Im a busy woman,” she purred, draped across the couch, in an inviting manner.

If you so much as hinted at getting frustrated, she doubled down. “Aww, is living with me too much for you?” she teased one night, stealing the last slice of pizza you’d specifically saved for yourself. “Poor thing.”

But the worst was how she always needed the last word. Arguments with her were unwinnable, because no matter what, she’d throw out a smug, “You’re just mad that I’m fucking right,” and leave the room, huffing.

Some days you wondered why you hadn’t packed your bags yet. But then she’d do something annoyingly cute, like poke her head into your room at 3 a.m., blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

“I can’t sleep. Wanna watch something?”

You sighed, and begrudgingly made space for your girlfriend. God, she knew how to make you stop being mad at her so easily, and all she had to do was flash a smile in your direction.

She removed her blanket to reveal a silky lingerie set, in a colour matching her beautiful hair. She crawled over to sit on your lap, her sultry gaze meeting your surprised one. "Put a show on already," she whined, "accidentally" grinding on you.

You realised just then, as you grabbed the remote that Giselle was frustrated because you didn't fuck her for 2 days (a new record for your little slut). Oh, you didn't realise how much fun u were gonna have with her <33

An hour passed, and you forgot just how annoying your girlfriend was. Only 15 minutes were spent watching the movie, the other 45 spent arguing with Aeri over the smallest stuff. How you sat, how your room looked, how bad the movie you chose was, and you've just about had it with her.

Your hand snaked up her back, as she yapped, and tightened, before flipping her over so that she was face down into the mattress. A small yelp was heard, but you didn't care. This brat was gonna pay.

Youre both in the middle of the bed, and you dragged Aeri by her hair so that she rested her head on the pillow instead. She moaned at the sharp pain in her scalp, the sound so lewd and pornographic. "Baby, if you wanted to get fucked so bad, just fucking ask, okay? Don't piss me off, I'm not a patient person," you snarled at her.

Her pussy clenched at your tone of voice, back arching into you. Within minutes, you had her ass up and her hands tied behind her back, with one of your hands roughly gripping her hip, holding her down, the other pushing her head down into the pillow as you thrust the dark strap inside of her dripping cunt. You slapped her ass a few times, the flesh jiggling, her guttural moans escaping her mouth. The muffled cries and moans sounded like music to your ears, bringing you both closer to your edge, but you weren't gonna let Giselle off. No, not yet.

You removed the strap and threw it aside, and she groaned loudly at the action. "What the fuck are you- a-ah.." You slapped her before she could even complain, and told her that if she doesn't make you cum in the next 5 minutes, she's not gonna cum at all tonight. The threat of Aeri's pleasure being taken away had her scrambling, her lips connecting to you clit, and the moans you were letting out had her encouraged.

"F- fuck... that's a good g-girl..." You gasped, pushing Gigi's head into your pussy. Hearing your praises got her dripping again, and she sighed into your cunt, the action bringing you closer and closer to your climax.

Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, and you screamed out loud, thighs closing like an oyster around your beloved pearl, Aeri, who whined as she tasted your sweet essence, pleased to have made her girl happy. "My turn, please, mommy? I've been s'good to you..." You obliged, already losing your anger.

"Come here, Gigi," you softly murmured, and she obeyed, eagerly pushing you down, her pussy hovering above your face. You wrapped your hands around her plush thighs, pulling her so that her full body weight rested on your face. She immediately started grinding, and you plunged your tongue into her, swirling inside of her warm, pussy.

While sucking on her clit, your reached up to twist her pierced nipples, and Giselle threw back her head, squealing, reaching her high withing seconds, squirting all over your face. "M-mommy.... h-hah..." Aeri's body twitched, and she slumped beside you, completely fucked out.

Shakily, you got up and started to run water in the bath, before coming back to nuzzle into her neck. Giselle reciprocated, her arms wrapping around you, holding you closer.

Although she could be too much, you wouldn't trade her for the world.

#urno1luv #aespa x reader #aespa smut #giselle aespa #giselle x reader #giselle x fem reader #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #girl group smut #girl group x female reader

198 notes · View notes

hello-xiao · 8 months ago

Text

cold mornings ᯓ 🌫️

featuring.. aventurine. veritas ratio. caelus. dan heng (il).

cold mornings with your favorite characters.

part one.

tags/warnings!! not proof read! pure fluff. established relationship (aventurine, dr. ratio, dan heng (il)). post-penacony (aventurine). you can imagine whether dr. ratio leans up or down on his part. spoilers for character story (dr.ratio). dr. ratio and reader lives in a house together. fwb (not.. those types of benefits) (caelus). post-xianzhou luofu (dan heng il). dan heng hates hates the thought of being "one" with dan feng. gender neutral reader.

authors note!! hiiiii, this was a work in early may which i never actually did hehe.. if you couldn't already tell, english is not my first language so forgive me if it looks messy/unintelligible because most definitely i forgot words and i couldn't even search them up because i didn't know how to explain them..

rating: thirteen ++

Aventurine ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

Aventurine laid on the bed, his arm slung around your waist as he breathed in your scent. It was a quiet, cold morning, the shuffling of the bed sheets, the soft sound emitting from the humidifier and soft breathing being the only noises heard throughout the room.

The soft smell of hydrangea and citrus filled the room as Aventurine let out a small groan, he blinked open his eyes, letting out a yawn as he looked down at you, your head resting on his chest, he couldn't help but smile and mess with your hair.

He couldn't help but notice the room was a tad bit chilly, "Oh? Are you cold, Pilea?" "Oh, pray tell, how could you tell?"

He chuckled as he cuddled into you. "Now now, come, I'll warm you up." You couldn't help but smile as you held him close to you, letting a soft sigh leave your lips. You ran a hand through his hair. "Aven.." You could tell he was close to falling asleep. It had been a long month for him, he had just returned from Penacony. He didn't seem to want to talk about anything that happened, and you were just glad he was back in your arms.

Your hand rested on his head, gently running your hand through his hair as you rested your cheek atop his head, his head resting on your chest. "Sleep well, Aven.."

Veritas Ratio ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

You awoke in bed, all alone. Which was the usual in your shared home. After all, Veritas often awoke early, often leaving you alone in bed whilst he was in another room, either reading or researching.

You got out of the bed, grabbing the blanket off the bed and wrapping it around you as your feet met with the cold ground. You moved around before opening the door to his studies and taking a peek inside.

"Veri?" You smiled as you walked inside, finding him buried in his work. Papers worth of years of research surrounding him as his gaze moved to look at you. "Morning, dearest." He greeted you, before his attention moved back to his papers.

He pushed the chair back a little, giving you access to sit on his lap and rest your head on his chest. You noticed his glum expression, you were unsure if he wanted to talk about it. "Veri? Is something.. Wrong?" A silence filled the gap, he let out a grim sigh before a small self-depricating laugh followed.

He simply smiled at you - something rarely seen on the man's expression, yet here it was. He leaned to bury his face into the crook of your neck. "Everything.. Is fine." With pursed lips, you bregudingly accepted that answer, knowing full well he wouldn't say any more than that. But as your eyes made way to his research, you saw it. "--test-firing of the anti-planetary weapon was a success."

Yes.. Perhaps it was better not to push him to answer.

Caelus ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

It was an early morning on the express. You sat on the lush red couch as you watched the conductor sweep the floors. It wasn't shocking that it was practically freezing on the express. Your hands were wrapped around a mug filled with hot tea, blowing on your drink just lightly as you took small sips, careful not to burn your tongue.

You looked over at the door as Caelus comes out, he stretched his arms, you could only chuckle, feeling a bit bad for him as he had just returned from his adventure in the Xianzhou. From what you could tell, from the rambling of March 7th.. You were lucky to not have joined them.

You watched as he sat down next to you, sighing as he rested his head on your shoulder. "Tired?" He only nodded, wrapping his arms around you.

"Want a drink?" You wanted to laugh, he truly was no different than a raccoon, not to say it was bad. It was adorable. "No." His answer was short but quick.

You allowed him to rest his head on your shoulder as you placed the cup down onto the table. This was nice. Mornings like these.. Were always ones you look forward to.

Dan Heng (IL) ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

Dan Heng looked at the data bank, looking at what needed more editing and which didn't. He was lost in thought when he continued working, his eyes flicking back and forth to multiple different datas.

When he suddenly thought back to the events prior of returning to the express after their adventure in the Xianzhou. How much he was reminded of him. Dan Feng might be Dan Heng. But Dan Heng will never be him. But, in the same time.. Nothing could ever be his, could it? For Dan Feng haunted him, and probably, always will.

He wasn't fully paying attention to his surroundings when he let out a surprised noise at the sudden tug on his tail.

He turned around, only to find you, your arms wrapped around his tail. "Did I scare you?" You chuckled as he let out a sigh of relief. "[Name].. No. Just surprised." He smiled a bit.

"It's quite cold.. Aren't you usually in bed at this hour?" It was true, whether you choose to sleep-in or too cold to leave the comforts of your bed.

"Yeahhhhhh, but.." You rested your cheek on his tail, your fingers gliding across his scales as red hued his cheeks, a chill running up his spine at the sensation. "I decided to get up a bit earlier.." You smiled. "To see.. You."

Dan Heng looked away, his cheeks hueing red as he covered his face, clearing his throat as he glanced back at you. "I.. See."

You got up and stretched your arms. "It's so cold.." Dan Heng nodded his head, agreeing with you as he paid attention towards the data bank. "You don't mind me using your tail to help heat me up, right?" You grinned, hugging his tail, it was a comfortable pillow.

"No.. Feel free to use my tail as you please.."

And.. Just in this moment, Dan Heng couldn't help but smile. Nothing in the world belongs to him, for it belonged to Dan Feng. But you? In this moment.. Your love was his. Not Dan Feng's. But Dan Heng's.

#hsr x readers #aventurine x reader #dr. ratio x reader #veritas ratio x reader #caelus x reader #dan heng x reader #dan heng il x reader #honkai star rail x reader

658 notes · View notes

i-hate-peas · 5 months ago

Text

The Old Guard Fic Recs

So I've been a long time lurker within the fandom without ever getting particularly involved, but I wanted to show some appreciation for some of the super talented people who go here, because I have read a lot of incredible TOG fic.

Most (probably all) of these authors have loads of other amazing fics, but I've tried to just chose one from each, to keep the list a vaguely reasonable length. Although then I cheated and did some honourable mentions.

** just a note to say I started this list year (s) ago and forgot about it until literally today when I saw fic recs going round. Any of these fics I haven’t put a description for it’s because I didn’t do it at the time, and if I go back to reread them all this would never be posted, not through any lack of affection or enjoyment **

If any writers want tagging/ untagging etc please let me know! (i knew/ could find some blogs more easily than others lol)

Within Canon

Old Olives by aeli_kindara

Garden of Gethsemane mention = instant tears

Death in Her Hands by superblackmarket

Nile's growing relationship with Joe and Nicky. All of their fics are so beautifully written, but I especially love Nile's relationship with the boys and her facing her own immortality.

Honourable mention: Station to Station

Between the Hour and the Age by hauntedjaeger (@hauntedfalcon)

Andy! Nile!

Ouroboros by CypressSunn (@cypresssunns)

Set after the film, literally just read it.

compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience by Jack_R

A pair of early days Joe Nicky fics that reminds me of 'my wife is a bitch and i love her so much'

let's give them something to talk about by lacecat

When The Cherries White With Blossoms, Be Ready & Be Brave by chapstickaddict

Unearthed by merle_p

I think this is one of the most kudosed fics in the AO3 tag, but it deserves the hype!

Kidnapping for Dummies by Amiril

Similar to above, already very popular, but great and very funny!

The Last Man on Earth by Survivah (@optimismology)

I will admit I don't normally go for Booker/Nile, but this fic sold it to me. Looking at them and their developing relationship as the newer immortals.

Canon Divergent

Retrograde by Pinkninja

I mean this fic is the Big Bitch of the fandom for me, if you haven't already read this, where have you been? But also if you haven't already read this I am so jealous, read it and take your time with it and bawl your eyes out over it and appreciate the joy of reading it for the first time. The level of detail and planning in this fic is indescribable. It follows Nicky trapped in a Time Travellers Wife style life where he jumps back and forth throughout his own timeline, whilst Joe lives his life in chronological order. Exquisitely written.

If Never Again, If Every Day by gallifreyburning and takiki16 (@gallifreyburning, @takiki16)

Another absolute Titan of the genre. I know you’ve already been recommended this 500 times, what more can I say.

though I'm dying to (fall in love with you) by yusufsmoon (@babygirlyusuf)

Travellers from an Antique Land by kaydeefalls (@kaydeefalls)

Andy, not Quỳnh, trapped under the sea. I love all their fics.

AUs

Makes Me Want You More by Sixthlight (@sixth-light)

Perhaps not the typical favourite choice from Sixthlight, one of my absolute favourite TOG authors, but one that is funny and lovely and sweet that I keep coming back to. Shorter than many of theirs but perfectly formed.

pumpkin gnocci verse (series) by Liadan14 (@bewires)

I mean it's got estranged family, suspenseful chronological structure, cooking, spies, intimate and honest sex scenes, hilarious misunderstandings involving keeping halal, lovely found family moments, and the actual recipes used. What more do you want.

The Reality of Everything by Marbletopempire

One of the fics I desperately waited for each instalment for. Very funny, lots of sexual tension, plenty of Cate Blanchette spotting opportunities.

sine qua non by mellyflori (@werebearbearbar)

One of the first of their fics I read, with a very sweet build up of misunderstanding to friends to lovers, involving growing up, discovering sexuality, trying to be nice about your best friend's bad boyfriend, and a long suffering sofa.

The Brooklyn Verse (series) by GayLittleEarring, yusufsmoon, nicelytousled (@marwankenzarisgaylittleearring @babygirlyusuf @nicelytousled)

I saw the creation of this on Tumblr before it was a fic, and it lived up to every expectation. Very sweet and sincere, with lots of great discussions about art, whilst also very funny (Lamp the free loader, Joe sending thirst traps out of irritation) and hot. ItalianAmericanNickyfromBrooklyn and Joe my beloveds.

a good (eighth) impression by deaniker

I love a good hook-up to 'oh shit I have feelings' fic, and this is even more entertaining because Nicky is Lykon's ex, and Joe has very much seen him at his worst.

You do not have to be good by emjee (MerryHeart) (@emjee)

At one point a tumblr post about Joe the Professor and Nicky the Priest got very popular, and I'm not sure if this fic was inspired by that, but is one of the great fics with similar concepts. Such a lovely, gentle fic about love and also identity, featuring also Nile and a very sweet snail.

it's such an almighty sound (series) by raedear (@raedear)

A secret service AU that goes full enemies to lovers, with lots of tension, plotting, betrayal, frustration, and tenderness.

Honourable mention: take my hand (you got me rockin' and rollin')

fight 'til the day that i die 'verse by incurableromancer

Suspenseful, noir, super hero AU that has such a great writing style and is very atmospheric.

if you do take a thief by knoepfchen (@knoepfchen)

Cluedo style AU with lots of fun twists and slow building of backstories, with the whole gang.

Honourable mention: life is not the things that we do (it's who we're doing them with)

#the old guard #fic rec #champagne?#now I need to go back and reread all of these

216 notes · View notes

the-lazyyy-artist · 27 days ago

Text

crush yukimiya kenyu x fem!reader

Summary: it seemed so distant, yet seeing him now, you get reminded of your pathetic pining towards him years ago.

Tags and Themes: cringe and awkward, high school setting, reader has a big fat crush, yukki being who he is, loosely based on a true story, mentions of other blue lock boys, reo being your bf lmao

Author's note: this happened to me personally. high school crush and s/o are currently friends, and I'm surprised he knows me lmao wtf. anyway, enjoy the story! reblogs, likes, and comments are much appreciated!

@fishii28 @x3nafix ✨

Crazy how it's been years since you met him.

You stood awkwardly in the restaurant where your boyfriend and his friends decided to meet for a little get-together. You knew it was someone's birthday, but you forgot who it was. However, everyone was familiar; there was Nagi, then Karasu, then that guy with a streak on his hair that you always forget his name and Rin. Most of all, there he was, your high school crush who you never thought you'd meet again at this age.

God, how long has it been?

Yukimiya Kenyu. Once you hear that name, expect a trail of girls squealing at his presence. He was not only good-looking; he was gentlemanly, kind, very intelligent, and an athlete. He was your school's most treasured player, a master at beating opponents 1-v-1. The girls in your school would try to catch his attention, and he would politely smile and wave at them. An angel, some would call him. The cherry on top is he's a model at a young age.

You transferred to his school in your 2nd year of High School. Typical, but it was for the best, your mother said once. It was pathetic. You skipped the first period two days in a row because you forgot where your class was. You could've asked, you knew that, but it took a lot of guts to approach someone and try not to look like a total idiot while doing it. Luckily, you found friends in your class: the prettiest girls to ever exist in your section. Chizu and Kimiko. You thought these two lovely, kind, and smart girls couldn't befriend a shy, simple, and awkward girl like you, but it worked. You ate lunch with them, laughed with them, and did your homework with them. They even helped you with math, which was great!

How'd you meet Yukimiya?

For context, you didn't know who the hell he was.

Every afternoon during the first months of the beginning of that school year, the football team would be training on the school's football field. The girls would spend too much time gawking at the athletes, calling their names, and squealing. It was a sad sight for you. You know the appeal of athletes. Heck, you had a few crushes of your own growing up because of your aunt and mom watching sports on TV, gushing over players they found attractive, and in return, you did too. Walking past the field, Chizu pulled you to the fence near the bleachers. "I need you to do me a favor," she said sweetly. "Sure, what is it?" I asked, smiling at her. You watched her smile back at her, then she turned you around, so you'd face the field. "Do you see that guy in purple?" she pointed, and you did. The guy in purple on the other side of the field, looking around at the players. I nodded and focused on him. "He's one of our friends; his name is Yukki. Can you call him for us so we could meet him?"

"Eh? Couldn't we just go around the fence and catch his attention there?" you asked, frowning. It was embarrassing to yell across the field, especially with the guys taking their break on the bleachers. "We can't," Chizu reasoned, "practice is ongoing. We need to call for him from here."

"Don't you guys have his phone number?" you asked again, now looking at Kimiko, hoping she'd find the logic in all of this. Sadly, they both shook their heads. You sighed and agreed with what Chizu asked you, earning small yays from them. With a deep breath, you held your hands around your mouth and yelled, "YUUUKKI!"

The guy in purple did not turn his head in your direction.

"YUKKI! HEY!"

Nothing.

"YUKKI! YUUUUKI!!! YUKKIIIIIII!!"

You got a little frustrated as you turned to look at both your friends, who were already snickering. "You're doing great! He might've not heard you. He has bad hearing, you see," Chizu said with a smile on her face. Kimiko beside her was having trouble holding her laughter. You felt a little embarrassed now, but you still called for Yukki several more times, and the guy across the field didn't budge.

"This is stupid, let's just go to him," you said, walking away. You heard Chizu and Kimiko burst into laughter as they pulled back, stopping you in your tracks. "I'm so sorry," Chizu said, "We're so sorry to play you like that! The guy Yukki you've been calling for the past 3 minutes now..."

She lifts her hand to point at the guy in the bleachers, looking confused. Him with his orange goggles and his messy brown hair. He was looking at your direction... no, at you, specifically.

"... It's him on the football team!"

You felt your knees buckle as you blushed widely, realizing that this prank ruined your reputation as the new girl. Now, everyone's gonna know you as the weird girl who screamed Yukimiya's name furiously on the field. You met Yukimiya's confused gaze, and you smiled at him awkwardly. You then took your leave, never turning back despite Chizu and Kimiko's calls.

The next month was horrible as you would avoid seeing Yukimiya in the halls or anywhere at school. You'd take a quick u-turn whenever you see his hair in the hallways, hear his voice ringing in the cafeteria, or hear girls calling his name because that meant he was nearby. Chizu and Kimiko teasing you about it for weeks didn't help, imitating your yells whenever you guys hung out or scaring you about Yukki being around. It was overbearing!

And in a turn of events, your avoidance turned into admiration. Crazy.

You began to watch him play, see how he moved on the field. He was amazing, crippling the other team with his footwork. Hearing more about him being a model and always being in the 1st section since 1st year amazed you, too. An intelligent and sporty guy sounds perfect at that time. The more you heard about how kind he was too, how he said hello to every girl who looked his way, and how he looked so clean and neat every day deepened your admiration towards him. Honestly, your friends already knew you'd like him eventually. Who wouldn't?

However, even though they pushed you to say hello to him, you never dared to. All you can do is look at him from afar as he laughed with his friends or as he practiced football on the field. You felt like there was no chance. You two were worlds apart. You were a nobody, and he was somebody everyone knew and admired. Heck, even the teachers liked him! They favored him for his courtesy and politeness, making him the role model for everyone at school.

3rd year came, and your pining increased as Yukimiya ran for the student body. It was a surprise when you received a letter on your desk with your name on it, your heart pounding in your chest as you opened the letter, and it was the most heartwarming letter you've read... though it was written in Microsoft Word. It was a little thank you letter for supporting him in everything he did and now as he ran for the student body. The best part is that he knew you. He knew your name. It made your whole day!

Until you found out how everyone in class received the same letter.

And that your class president submitted a list of your names to him for the campaign letter.

What a bummer.

The way it ruined your whole day was pathetic because you really had your hopes up. You thought that it was finally that moment where you could say there's a chance. You pined for Yukimiya for so long and all you can do is to watch him walk by, watch him laugh, and watch him...

Watch him give his second button to the prettiest girl in his class during graduation.

After leaving high school, you left your admiration for Yukimiya, no longer learning about his whereabouts.

Until tonight.

"Y/n, right?" Yukimiya asked, approaching where you stood. You must've looked stupid when he asked because he smiled widely at you and said, "Yeah, I know you."

"Oh, you do now?" You asked awkwardly. Yukimiya nodded and chuckled softly. "You were pretty memorable."

You laughed at him and shook my head, suddenly remembering the scream fest you held that day on the field. "Please," you said, "let's not talk about that. It was so embarrassing. I hated it." Yukimiya laughed as he cradled his glass. You both fell quiet for a moment, watching his teammates talk from afar. "I really wanted to be friends with you back then," he spoke softly. It was stupid how your heart was pounding so hard in your chest. Never in your life have you expected this to happen; to finally talk to him like a normal person and not as an awkward teen that you were before.

"I don't think we'd gel well, Yukki," you replied as you looked up at him. It's crazy how he still looked so beautiful. His orange eyes were still so soft as he gazed at you. His hair was still styled neatly and still kept his circular specs. It makes him look prettier.

"Who knows? You never knew how much of a weirdo I was in high school."

"Well, I never knew that."

"Weirdly, you're in a relationship with Reo," he said, nodding at Reo's way who was busy talking to Nagi. "Did you know we were teammates?"

"No," you lied. Then you heard him scoff jokingly. "Alright. I knew. I've been avoiding his invites to your get-togethers since everyone's girlfriends also join, and he feels like he's being left out because I don't come with him."

"Is it because of me?" Yukki asked. You nodded, and said, "I couldn't face you after my hopeless pining at you for two years before."

Yukki was about to respond when Reo jogged in your direction. "Baby!" Reo chimed, kissing your cheek. "I want to introduce you to Nagi. Remember Nagi?"

"Of course, I do!" You giggled, pulling him closer to you. "Thanks for keeping her company, Yukimiya," Reo said as he pulled you away from the brunette. You looked back at Yukki, and you saw him raise his glass to you, to which you smiled.

111 notes · View notes

ziminy · 14 days ago

Text

Coming back to you

How to get back with your ex

Tags: smut, minors and ageless blogs do not interact, f!reader, normal au (because we suffered enough), my bbg Caleb the manipulative king he is (break me in half and all I'll say is thank you), implied stalking (if you squint), creampie, oral (f! receiving), fingering, marking, dirty talk, praising, size difference, little bit of crying, not proofread

Author's note: almost lvl 60 affinity with him, it was hard work and a lot of dedication. Trust me when I say I won't be able to recover financially from this any time soon.

Masterlist

Life was good when you were together, and somehow it even better after breaking up. It's not like your split up was messy, because you two parted ways on mutual accord, deciding that this isn't going to work since both of you were so busy lately. Why dragging the other down when you have your futures set?

In fact, the break up wasn't even supposed to be a break up, you were supposed to take a little break from each other that turned into a break up some time later. You said that you'd still be friends, that it's alright to talk and greet each other if you somehow managed to meet again.

But it was all lies. Both of you knew that. Because you never texted each other after that, and somehow you tried to avoid all the places he might be at. You don't really know why you're doing that, if just.. you feel a little uncomfortable looking back at what you two used to have.

Perhaps it was the way he looked at you, how he leaned down to talk to you, or that dumb smile that made your heart skip a beat.

He was caring, attentive, maybe a bit obsessive, perhaps a bit insane too. And maybe that what scared you, kept you away from dating again. Finding another one like him. God, what if you had the misfortune to wake up with another one like him at your door? You'd rather jump out the window than have the luck of getting another Caleb.

But he was good, in his own ways.

Well.. you can't really name any of his good traits at the moment, but he was a great guy. If you put aside his manipulative side, that he doesn't even try to hide to begin with.

You promised yourself to not fall for another guy like him, that empty words mean nothing to you. Threats had no effect, and you don't feel guilty anymore over things that you shouldn't be to begin with.

So, why was he here? You were supposed to meet with the old friend group, to reconnect and talk about the old days and how college used to be. I mean, he was part of the group, but why exactly was he here? And why did nobody told you he was coming?

"It's so good to see you guys!" one of your friends said, instantly jumping from person to person to hug.

"I feel like we're young again." someone else said, making you shake your head and let out a soft laugh. You can't show that you're affected, you're all grown now, you matured. He had no effect on you anymore. Even if it only been a year, you're still a different person that you were a few months ago.

"We aren't old to begin with." you said with a smile on your face. "How haves everyone been?" you sounded so calm, like you forgot how much stress was put on you back then. Everybody looks in much better shape after graduation, perhaps that place was rough for everyone.

"Let's just skip greetings and drink." of course there was that one person. "Caleb, you pay." everybody's eyes were on the tall man.

"You brought your wallet, no? Why should I pay." your eyes made contact for a moment, and you felt your face getting hotter. This night better go quick, because you don't know for how much longer you can handle this.

Everything was how it was back then, the way you sit in groups at the bar. How you found yourself next to the same girls you used to, deciding that you don't want to be loud and take it easy, just like before.

"So, how have life been for you? Haven't heard anything from you after we graduate." one of the girls looked at you, reminding you of how you chose to go no contact with everybody after your breakup.

"You and Caleb broke up? I thought you'd last a life time." is there nothing better to talk about?

"I'm a career woman now." you decided to change the subject, rather chosing to talk about work that your failed relationship.

"Oh?" why everybody looked so surprised was a mystery. But somehow you understood their reactions, you're also surprised you went this path.

"Got any boyfriends?" they still want to get info on your personal life, huh? Well, guess you won't be able to dodge that question any time soon.

"Nothing at the moment. Just focusing on work."

"I guess it's hard to date again. Normal guys must be so bland, not comparing to that piece of meat over there." you looked displeased with your friends choice of words. Yes, your ex might look good, but looks isn't what matters right now. Your well being was your top priority, and you enjoyed the freedom you had way too much.

"I'd be like that too if I had your ex. Imagine recovering from that." you don't even have to imagine.

"Is it even humanly possible to find somebody who's better than him?" their questions doesn't affect you, because you already know that you're the best you'd find. You understand and give yourself more than enough space that it's needed. So the right questions was if he will be able to find someone as good as you, because he won't.

"He's looking in this direction." the girls started giggling, and somehow, this was nostalgic.

Didn't this happened already? Before you started dating, right before you two confessed your feelings. Because somehow, you managed to do that at the same time. It was funny, if you're thinking about it. How you two were so in sync, you had no idea.

"Go talk to him." the girl next to you tried to push you, to make you get up and walk to the dark haired man.

"Don't want to." you kept avoiding any eye contact ever since you got in that bar. If you don't acknowledge him then he doesn't even exist to you.

"But he's looking at you." you grabbed the drink in front of you and gulped everything down your throat, trying to ignore him.

"Are you shy?" the girls started giggling again.

It was annoying. Why can't they understand that it's over? He understands this, so why can't they do it as well?

"We don't have anything to talk about."

"But he seems to want to?" it doesn't matter even if they point it out. It's been a long time already, you both moved on.

"Isn't there anything you want to tell him? Like things you didn't got the chance to while you were together?"

"This is the time to clear any bad blood between the two of you." but that wasn't necessary.

Frustrated, you looked in his direction. Eyebrows furrowed and biting on your lip so you wouldn't let out any curses you wanted to say at the moment. That classical expression, looking like he's good, even if there was no smile on his face, but he kept nodding to what his friends were saying. His eyes were betraying him however, those sleepy eyes, looking at you like you were more interesting, like he had to or else you'd evaporate from there or who knows what worse. It wasn't often when you'd see him like that, so you can't even answer your own questions on why he seemed like that.

No, if you payed attention to his surroundings, his friends might be annoying him. Saying something that he doesn't like, or.. they were talking about you. Just the way your friends were talking about him.

Was he feeling like that because he didn't want to talk to you either? No, you doubt that. It's probably because you refuse to give him any attention.

You turned to face the girls around you, who still seemed to push you to him. Maybe you should in fact go for it?

But, was there really anything that needed to be said? You don't have any regrets, you can't think of anything you want to say. And he's the same, even if he looked like he was holding back from time to time. You doubt he ever did something he's regretting. After all, you matched each other's freaks. You managed to stay together for that long just because you completed the other, understood yourselfs on a level no one else around you could.

Was this why you were pushed to him? Because everyone knew how well you fit each other?

You looked at your friends one more time, sighing as you finally gave up. You're still afraid to approach him, because he was still intimidating in a way you can't explain.

Or you can, because whenever you look at him you feel a chill down your spine. Your head was filled with stuff you said to him in the past, memories coming back to embarrass you, to make you forget what you want to do so you'd fuck up in front of him.

You stopped in front of him, staring at him as he looked at you. He still had that expression on his face, like you're still his softest spot, his weakness that makes him weak in the knees when he's around you. You opened your mouth, trying to say something but then forgetting everything once you looked into his purple eyes.

You can't be like this forever, you had to step up your game. You really had to move on, and maybe that's what you have to talk with him. Because he seems to be stuck in the past too. "You have time?" you noticed the way he almost raised his hand, to grab onto you and drag you closer like he always did. But he held back, because he knew this wasn't the time.

"Yeah." he tried to keep it nonchalantly, but you could see past his poorly executed facade. Should you feel happy with how you still affect him? You feel like you could laugh.

"Wanna talk outside?" you don't even know why you said outside of all places. You wanted to stay inside, where everybody else was. You wanted to have a reason to keep it cool, to not lose yourself in your emotions, because you know you'll fuck up if you're alone with him.

He got up, standing much taller than you as he followed you quietly. Seriously, this was like a deja vu. You still remember how you used to follow him just the way he's doing now. Not questioning a thing, and trusting him a bit too much. But you also had no idea where you're going. All you know is that you want to go outside, take some fresh air, say a few words and then go back to your friends.

For a moment, he got in front of you, opening the door and letting you walk out first. He used to do this all the time, didn't he? You almost forgot about it.

You walked a little further from the bar, resting your back against a building's wall as you looked at the sunset. No one said a thing, and the distance between the two of you was colder than the night's breeze.

"So.." a few words and then go back, that's all. You can go to your friends after this and rest. "How have you been." avoid eye contact, because you don't know when you'll fuck up, look forward, don't let yourself be distracted.

"Busy." his voice still makes something in your head ring, like a little bell that seems to not calm down until he said so. "You?"

"Busy." you couldn't even think of what to say, just biting your lip in frustration.

It was quiet again, like both of you forgot how to communicate.

For a moment, you looked to your left, at where the bar was, and then at him, catching him staring at you with a expression you can't quite explain. Sadness? No, it was a mixture of sad and frustration. And you understood him. He had you this close, next to him, and yet he couldn't do anything.

"You're bigger than I remember." you don't even know why you said that. It's just.. he looks different and you can't exactly say what it was.

"I stopped growing a long time ago." he kept looking at you, at the way you were scanning him for anything that it might have changed. "Maybe you're the one who shrinked." he extended his hand, he doesn't really know why, but it seemed alright in that moment. Like he knew you wouldn't run anymore. "My hands are still the same."

You looked at his palm, at his long fingers and at the way he looks so familiar, yet new. Like you forgot how his body looked for a moment, like you were back in the past before you two started dating. Because you did this back then too, you were in this situation before.

How he was trying to tame you, let you touch him just the way you want, explore and discover more. All just to show you how inoffensive he is, that he's not a threat.

And you bite the bait every single time. Taking his hand in yours, slowly touching it just to see if it was indeed like what you remember.

You should put more effort if you don't want him back in your life. Just look at you, you look like you've missed him so so much. You shouldn't be this sweet or else you might not be able to break up again this time.

He tried his luck, interlocking his fingers with yours, and showing you more of that size difference you haven't seen in a while.

You don't reject him, his actions only made you be more curious. What else was he hiding? You looked up at him, only to see that expression again. You really didn't understand how his eyes can be just this dark, like there was absolutely no life in them, only a purple abyss that seems to drag you in towards him.

"It's getting dark." he said in a low voice, forgetting that he was supposed not to scare you for a moment. "Let me drive you home." he's the same as ever. Getting ahead of himself just because he was able to feel your perfume for once, the same scent that you had since back then. It suited you, and he missed it.

"Alright." he always knew how to calm you, let down your guard so he can get more under your skin. Or perhaps you were doing that voluntarily, because he doubts you'd be like this just for anybody.

The ride back to your place was quiet, only the radio on, playing some mainstream songs over and over again.

The silence was loud, but not uncomfortable. It was better this way because you had nothing to say. And he will not talk until you talk.

But once you got to your house, you somehow didn't wanted to get out the car just yet. It's just.. can't he stay? You don't know why you want him there, and you don't want answers to that.

"You're.." you played with your fingers. "You're not busy, right?" you avoided his eyes, or to look in his direction at all. This was all his doing, wearing that one fragrance that made your head spin, and the shirt that he knew was your favorite. "Want to come inside?" you're doing this on your own accord. Because he wouldn't push you over your limits like this, especially when you just met again after a long time.

You came to him, you talked to him, and you dragged him into your home on your own. He didn't do anything, this was all your doing.

You were brave enough to make the first move, so he might as well reward you for it, no?

You didn't looked surprised when you started kissing the moment the front door closed behind you, you also looked unfazed when he started taking off your clothes, now going towards your bedroom, looking for a bed so he could place you on it.

How could you forget this feeling? Or the way he used to take care of you. Always stopping you from lifting a single finger, not letting you do anything until you start begging him, or worse, do things without even warning him first.

"Tell me if it hurts." he placed a kiss on your cheek before going down, biting softly on your skin and leaving kisses all over the places he touched. He was going to mark all of your body, so people would see a part of him on you even if you're not together.

He stopped when he got to your pussy, leaving a kiss on your inner thigh, before placing his lips over your heat. He was going to scream, he missed this so much that he just couldn't help but let out a lustful moan deep from the bottom of his heart.

How could you left him? Take this away from him, leave him all alone to suffer. If he didn't craved so much for you he would have punished you for it.

"You're so tight." he said as he got two of his fingers inside.

"It's been a while since I did it." he looked up at you from between your legs, placing a kiss on your clit.

"Have you done it with someone else?" he was asking as if he didn't knew everything you did while he was gone. And yet, hes jealous.

"No." you shook your head. "What about you?" are you questioning his loyalty?

"Did you touched yourself?" if this was his way of changing the subject, then it wasn't working. Because it only made you want to ask the same thing, embarras him just the way he did to you.

"Did you?" he should feel embarrassed, ashamed or anything between those two, but no, it was just you who feeling that way.

"Every time I missed you." seriously, can he calm down for a moment. You can't take it. "You didn't do a good job." he said, licking on your clit as his fingers curled up. "But I guess you can't do much with those fingers of yours." you couldn't face him when he was saying such dirty words. "Did you had a hard time stuffing yourself? Don't worry, I'll do it for you from now on." you placed a hand over his face, to cover his eyes so he would stop looking at you.

"Don't look at me." you whimper. "It's embarrassing." you were always so easy to tease.

"Alright." he moved your hand away. "I'm sorry." he was in fact not, but if that's what you want to hear then he'll lie again and again, as long as you're happy.

Your pleasure was more important to him. So he focused on that, paying attention to the places that made you melt, on your soft voice and your touch. You're still so hesitant, like you don't really trust him, like you're still testing the waters.

What more do you want from him? What can he possible give that he haven't gave you already? You have his heart, you have his mind and soul, his well being is all yours, his body and everything he owns. So give him attention, touch him more and tell him that he's doing good because he's about to burst.

For a moment he looked up at you, just to see how you're doing, to check on you and make sure you're alright.

How did he lived for so long without looking at you was a mystery. Why he accepted you leaving him and trying to move on. Who else is going to make you feel like this? You need him, you needed his cock and his touch.

But he's not going to fuck up, since it's been a while since you last did it, he shouldn't push you. So, he placed a last kiss on your clit before taking his fingers out of you, leaving you panting and waiting for more. He didn't even let you cum, how mean of him.

Still, how dumb of him, to come here with nothing on him, not even a single condom. I mean, it wasn't really his fault because he never knew he'll end up like this.

"Take it off, your clothes." you were all naked while he was still fully dressed. He also looked like he wasn't planning on getting undressed any time soon and it was annoying you.

"I don't have any condoms." that was the problem?

"It don't matter." you took him by surprise. "Come here." you knew how rail him up. And you better not regret your decision later.

You looked at him taking off his shirt, his defined muscles jumping right into your face. You were right when you said he looked bigger, he must be working out a lot more lately. He took his pants off after, your eyes on his hard cock as he came back next to you.

"Relax." he said when he got between your legs. "Look at me." it would only be harder for you if you keep overthinking. Yeah, he was big, so what. He's going to give you all the time in the world until you adjust yourself to take him. It's gonna be hard at first, but it's going to be so much easier once he models your insides into the shape of his cock. And that's a promise, believe him.

He slowly pushed the head of his dick inside your wet core, making you move a little from how it was feeling, trying to find a better position. He lowered himself, now his chest pressed against yours, placing kisses all over your face as he kept pushing more of him inside your warm pussy. It's alright, take your time. He's not going anywhere, he'll wait until you're ready for him to move.

"You're doing good." he whispered in your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin. "I'm all the way inside, see? It doesn't hurt." it hurts a little, maybe more than just a little. But wasn't it normal when he was stretching you like that? But just as much as it hurts, it also felt good, in a way that left your mouth watering. He was going to be the end of you, really.

"Move." you ordered him, wanting to feel more. Just being stuffed to the brim wasn't enough, you needed much more than that.

He followed your orders, moving his hips slowly, paying attention to your next move.

You were so cute when you're sticking to him like that, holding onto his shoulders and trembling every time he touched that spot deep inside that he wasn't trying to touch to begin with, to not overwhelm yourself.

He's going to give you everything you want, there's no need to rush. If this was how much you can handle then that's how much he's going to give you. So why were you grabbing him like that, and asking for more? "Deeper." but you couldn't take it? You're going to say that he bullied you later, and he doesn't want to take the blame for something you made him do.

"You're sure?" you nodded, looking at him through your eyelashes with a pout on your face. Alright then, if that's what you want. How could he refuse you?

So he got deeper, hitting that spongy spot with long slow strokes that seems to work wanders on you.

He kissed you, again and again, to mark everything that missed his touch. To make sure you feel him, more than just inside.

"Is it good?" he asked as if he doesn't know your body like the back of his hand.

"Mm." you nodded, leaning in to feel more of his warmth.

"Then say my name. Let me know how good I make you feel." how could you forget he was like this. He always had to mark his territory as if you're not already his. But unfortunately for him, you're not in the mood to fulfill his desires. Screaming his name seemed nice, but at the moment all you wanted was to feel him, have him to yourself and let nobody know about your business.

Maybe his greedy side rubbed on you, or maybe it's the other way around. Or not, because at the end of the day you both knew that your unsolved issues can't be fixed that easy, and it can't be passed into the other when both of you are insane.

That's why you're trying to consume each other in other ways.

Kisses that seemed way too loving for someone who just got reunited after a long time. Touches that linger on the other's body even after moving away. Whispers and words that really makes it seems like you two were just a day apart, talking about moving with him, how you don't need anyone else but him. And at the moment you're too drunk on him to even realize that you're nodding, agreeing to every little degrading thing he's saying.

You want him, don't you? You missed him, you were such a mess without him. Right? Why did you permited him to leave when he's made for you. "I love you." that's the most normal thing he said tonight. "I love you, you heard me?" you heard him, but if you're giving him an answer that satisfies him, you'll never make him pay for the pain he caused you.

"You do?" you didn't sounded loving at all, even if your arms were wrapped around his neck, looking at him in the eyes with something only he saw before, your lust and obsession.

"I love you." he'll say it until you finally give up. Placing a kiss right next to your eye, he caged you in his arms, a hand under your ass and lifting up so he could go even deeper than before. Move in even more, since you said you wanted deeper. He'll show you places you didn't even know existed if you're asking for it.

He can't say that he's a brat tamer, because he's not. He likes everything about you, your sweet side, your mean and angry side. He likes it when you punish him, it shows him that you care. And if you believe that he's not doing enough to deserve your love just yet, then he'll do more.

He liked trying after all. And he'd be damed if he said that he doesn't want to show you just how far he can go. Because trust him, you can't handle it.

He's going to eat you, or even better, sacrifice him as you see fit. He wants to be inside you forever, be part of you. Because he feels like he's finally at home only when he's with you, in your arms. And when he's balls deep inside you? He's in heaven.

"Does it hurts?" he licked your tears away, wanting to taste them and claim them as his.

You nodded, feeling his cock twitching before moving in a way that got you throwing your head back. This fucker. He thinks that he can just do this to you and not pay a price? And perhaps sometimes he forgets how you can be so cruel, mean, and play with his feelings in a way only you could.

All he needs is a look from you, fluttering those eyelashes in a pretty way, and a sad expression that he can't resist.

You win, if you wanted him to fumble, then you win. He's all yours, do whatever you want with him because he doesn't have the ability to think anymore. "Cum with me?" what gives you the right to ask such a dumb question when you knew that's the only thing he wants. If you're not, the he's not doing it either. He knows he's asking for too much, but let the man dream.

"I'll fill you up nice and pretty, alright?" he made it sounded like a question, but you both knew he was just letting you know.

"Mm." you nodded, your lips smashing together the next moment. Eating each other out as you were both so so close. Touches becoming more and more desperate, his grip on so tight you won't be surprised if it leaves a bruise. But it's alright, because you feel like that's not quite enough.

More, you both needed more. And some heated sex after fucks knows how long won't be enough to satisfy the empty holes in you. You needed so much more.

Will you even be able to get out the bed tomorrow? Both of you. Because from the way you drag each other back, refusing to give up just yet was more than enough proof to show you won't step back any time soon.

But who knows, maybe you'll finally be happy by the time you both dry your energy out.

#lnds caleb #lads caleb #love and deepspace caleb #caleb x reader #caleb #love and deepspace #lads smut #lads x reader

100 notes · View notes

archivequinn · 1 month ago

Text

MADNESS (Eddie Munson x American Horror Story: Asylum)

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five

Summary: Three years after his disappearance, Eddie Munson is arrested for the murders of Chrissy Cunningham, Fred Benson, Patrick McKinney and others, but the truth is very different. Unable to convince anyone that Vecna exists and that he is innocent, he is locked up in an asylum. But the only way out is to prove to his psychiatrist that he is not insane. If he fails to convince the psychiatrist, he will be executed as a murderer. He must hurry to do so, because Vecna has returned to finish the bloody unfinished business and take revenge.

As Eddie fights for his life, how far can his psyhiatrist go to save him when she finds out he is innocent? Perhaps the only reason his psychiatrist wants to save him is not because of Eddie's innocence, but because they have developed feelings for each other over time. In the midst of all this confusion, a series of secret experiments on patients in the mental hospital and a series of dark secrets make everything more difficult.

Warnings: Blood and Injury, Mentions of execution, Execution, Death, Mental Health Issues, Asylum, Mental Hospital, Horror, Psychological Horror, Survival Horror, Thriller, Claustrophobia, Prison, Doctor/Patient, Serial Killers, Hospitals, Pain, Depression, Violence, Blood and Violence, Suicidal Thoughts, death of a family member, Nudity, Smut, Sex, Slow Burn, Experiments, Explicit Sexual Content, TraumaPost-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Disorders, Smoking.

Before you read:)

This fan fiction is inspired by American Horror Story: Asylum. It contains a lot of horror and thriller content. Since the story takes place in a mental hospital, there may be various triggers. Please check the tags first as there is a lot of violence, sexuality and depression contents. This story is for adults, so close the page if you are a minor.

Please let me know if there are any tags I forgot to add. read on ao3

Dr. Oliver Owsen was deeply interested in what Arthur had been doing. In short, he was searching for someone named Ginny. After checking all the hospitals, he had come here as a last resort. One of the reasons that brought him here was that Dr. Arthur had also worked at the last hospital where Ginny was seen—at least, that’s what Violet had learned.

Who was Ginny? How did Oliver know her? Why was he looking for her? Frankly, Violet didn’t care much. The only thing she cared about was that she was tired of all the dirty dealings in this hospital always going unpunished. Someone needed to expose everything happening in this place.

Apparently, Violet no longer had the authority or power to do that. But she could help someone who did—namely, Dr. Oliver Owsen.

After finishing her therapy session with Oliver, she glanced over at Eddie, who was whispering but speaking heatedly with someone in the corner. Because of his fluffy curly hair and tall stature, she couldn’t see who he was talking to.

She went over to John and Max and gestured toward them with her head. “What’s going on over there?”

John rolled his eyes and sighed. “Our only ticket out of here just flew out the window. The guys who were supposed to get us out have now come inside. ”

Violet frowned. “Steve is here?” John sighed again in frustration and threw himself onto the couch. “Steve and his buddy. Now we have two more people we need to keep safe.”

Violet wondered what they were talking about. Eddie’s anxious appearance was fueling the growing fear inside her. When the door to the common room opened, everyone turned their heads in that direction. Prosecutor Robert Hills had finally graced them with his presence.

As Violet tried to predict his next moves, she noticed Eddie clenching his fists and shooting hateful glares at Robert. The tension escalated as Robert approached; Eddie looked like a tiger waiting to pounce.

Robert, however, walked calmly as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t turned their lives into hell. Without looking at anyone, he went directly to Max, extended his hand, and introduced himself.

“Hello, Max, I’m Robert Hills, the prosecutor in the Eddie Munson case,” he said with a fake smile. “We’ve actually met before, but at that time, you had just come out of a coma. I understand you want to update your statement. The necessary procedures have been completed for your release. Come to my office, and we’ll update your statement. Afterward, you’ll be able to leave this place by the afternoon.”

When Max looked nervously at Violet, she nodded in approval. At least someone would get out of here.

After Max left, Eddie, Steve, and a blond young man approached Violet. When the young man extended his hand, Violet shook it and learned that his name was Jonathan.

“We need to make a plan with you. But not here. Where’s the safest place?” Eddie asked, quickly darting his eyes around at everyone. Steve and Jonathan shrugged and looked at each other. “They haven’t given us a room yet,” Steve replied. Violet raised her hand and said, “Max is staying in my room. She could return from Robert’s office at any moment.” Eddie put his hands on his hips and turned to John. John, somehow, had produced a chocolate bar and was eating it. With his mouth full, he looked at each of them in turn and said indifferently, “What?”

John’s single room looked like a five-star hotel suite to Violet. While the double rooms gave off the impression of a mousetrap, this one felt relatively spacious. Jonathan had brought a chair from the common room and was sitting with his feet propped against the headboard of the bed. Steve sat on the floor, leaning against the wall. John had sprawled across the bed so much that Eddie and Violet were forced to squeeze into one corner of it.

Eddie smiled and patted his knee twice—a wordless way of saying, “Come on.” Violet smiled back, got up, and sat on Eddie’s leg. Wrapping her hands around his neck, she rested her head against his soft hair. Eddie’s scent and warmth created a brief wave of calm within her.

John pulled a lighter out of his pocket and flicked it on. “So, you want me to burn a little girl now, is that it?” he said, examining the lighter closely.

Jonathan replied, “Not burn her, just bring the flame close. If she gets scared, we can figure out if Vecna has taken her or if he’s still inside her.” John rolled his eyes and said mockingly, “ Of course she’d get scared, genius. Everyone’s afraid of fire.” Then, suddenly, he thrust the lighter toward Jonathan. Jonathan toppled off his chair, and Eddie’s giggling filled the room. Violet, sitting in Eddie’s lap, couldn’t help but chuckle as she felt the vibration of his laughter.

Steve said, “It’s not logical to burn her, but we could touch her with something heated by the lighter,” his face thoughtful.

Eddie raised his eyebrows. “You do realize we’re talking about a person, right?” he asked.

John added dramatically, “Also, I don’t want to go down in history as an arsonist. I don’t want to be the first person people think of when they hear the word ‘fire.’ ”

Violet bit her lip, smiling. “I think you’re a bit late for that.”

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Eddie said, “Something keeps poking me. Dude, your bed is so uncomfortable.” He looked annoyed. John smirked slyly, and Eddie gave him a suspicious look. “What are you up to?” he asked.

When Eddie lifted the cushion on the bed, the pile of junk food, cigarettes, and cassette tapes underneath. Eddie turned to Violet with a mocking expression. “And we thought the real spy was Robert. Turns out the real sneaky one was right next to us all along,” he said.

Folding her arms across her chest, Violet asked, “How did you even get all this stuff in here?”

John put on an innocent expression, pursing his lips and raising his hands. “If you had a brother working here, you’d also have someone bringing you whatever you wanted,” he said.

Suddenly, Steve stood up excitedly. “This brother of yours… Can he smuggle anything in?” he asked.

Eddie placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder, smirking. “I don’t think he can smuggle in what you’re thinking about, dude,” he said with a sarcastic grin.

Steve stared at Eddie for a few seconds, then raised his hands. “No, you idiot. I’m not talking about what you think,” he said.

As Eddie burst into laughter, Violet realized his joy came from being surrounded by his friends. Even in the midst of all this chaos, Eddie’s happiness was contagious. He was like a bond that brought his friends together. Somehow, even in these tough times, being with them gave Eddie a small sense of peace.

John asked, “Hey Steve, what do you need? What’s on your mind?”

Steve said, “If your brother can smuggle in a heater or something similar, Violet could say she’s cold in her cell and turn it on. That way, we wouldn’t have to burn Max, and we could still learn if she’s sensitive to heat.”

John threw himself onto the bed with a disappointed look on his face. “Brendon can only smuggle things as big as what he can fit in his pocket,” he said.

Eddie added, “And even if he did smuggle in a heater like you said, we don’t have sockets in our rooms.”

Jonathan turned his chair backward and leaned his head against the backrest. “Besides, Max is leaving in a few hours. So this plan wouldn’t work,” he said.

“Maybe you could’ve just asked,” said a sudden voice.

Everyone turned to see Max standing at the door. She rolled her eyes, walked toward them, and took the lighter from John’s hand. She lit the flame and brought her hand close to it, almost touching it. She didn’t react at all and then shrugged as she looked at them.

“I mean, there are five of you, but if I added all your brains together, it wouldn’t equal Nancy’s.”

As Violet looked on curiously, wondering who Nancy was, the others all nodded in unison. The three of them moved so in sync, it was like watching the three wise monkeys.

Max clenched her fist and held it out toward Eddie. Eddie mirrored her gesture and bumped fists with her.

Max continued, “I changed my statement about you, Eddie. The prosecutor said you might be able to get out of here in a day or two. Oh, and he’s waiting for you in his office now. As for me, I’m leaving. This madness is too much, even for me and even they call me MAD MAX.”

She finished her sentence with a laugh, but as she smiled, her eyes filled with tears. She hugged Eddie tightly.

“I’ll be waiting for you, Eddie. You’re the big brother I never had but always wanted. I’m sorry for everything that happened. I love you.”

It was clear that Eddie was struggling to swallow the lump in his throat. He hugged Max back in return.

Violet silently made a wish: I hope it happens as she said. I hope Eddie gets out of here.

Eddie opened the door to the prosecutor’s office and stepped inside. He hadn’t bothered to knock, not even out of courtesy. He went straight to the chair and sat down. Prosecutor Robert was organizing files with the male nurse standing beside him. This nurse was the same jerk who had taken Eddie to his cell on his first day at the mental hospital.

Robert picked up a piece of paper, held it up in the air, and shook it noticeably. “Do you know what this is, Edward? ” he asked. “Eddie,” Eddie replied calmly. He hated being called Edward.

Robert continued, “This is your ticket out of here, Edward. It’s the petition Max wrote, saying you’re innocent. I could send it right now, this very minute, and you’d be a free man tomorrow.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, already guessing where this was headed. “But?” he asked tersely.

Robert stood up and began speaking as he gazed out the window. “But your girlfriend and your friend will stay here. I don’t think you’ll ever see them again.”

He then picked up a blank sheet of paper and placed a pen from his pocket onto the desk. “If you write here that you take full responsibility for everything and claim that Max wrote the petition out of fear, then maybe I’ll give a statement saying you’re insane. That way, you, your girlfriend, and your friend can live happily here forever.”

Eddie crossed his arms and spoke with determination, “No. I’m getting out of here. Then I’ll take Violet and John with me. And there’s no way you’re going to make me do this.”

Robert leaned forward, placing both hands on the desk as he fixed his serious gaze on Eddie. “Perhaps I wasn’t clear enough. Edward, if you don’t write what I’ve told you, you’ll be the only one responsible for what happens next,” he said in a threatening tone.

Eddie gritted his teeth. “What are you going to do? Rat us out again, you Snitch Snitchson?” he shot back.

Robert responded with a filthy grin. “How about we give your girlfriend a nice volt of electricity right in front of your eyes, Edward? Will you still keep up this defiance then?”

When Eddie walked out of Robert's office, his hands were trembling. The prosecutor had given him two days to think, but there was nothing Eddie needed to think about. He would never allow Violet to be electrocuted.

But he didn’t trust Robert either. If he wrote the statement taking responsibility for the crimes, he was told he’d be deemed insane and allowed to stay there. But what if it was a lie? What if Robert took that statement and used it as evidence?

In that case, Eddie would be doomed, and Violet would never get out of here. He felt like a rat cornered in a trap.

He walked into the common room and looked for Steve and Jonathan. However, none of his friends were there. His eyes landed on Brendon, who was trying to get an old woman to drink soup.

Eddie approached him and asked, “Where’s John? Violet? Or the other two idiots?”

Brendon paused for a moment, his gaze drifting to the wall. “John’s in his cell. I don’t know where the two idiots are. I think they went to beg Manager Wilson to let them share the same cell. As for Violet, I last saw her with Doctor Oliver,” he said.

Eddie’s already frayed nerves worsened. He didn’t like Oliver at all; there was something off about that man, he thought. Deciding that John was the easiest person to locate, he headed toward the cells. Just as he reached the hall, he saw John walking toward him, grinning.

“Dude, you won’t believe what happened,” John was saying.

The only thought running through Eddie’s mind was: Wait until you hear mine, John.

John’s gaze turned to Eddie with concern. “What’s wrong?” he asked. Eddie was about to start talking when he saw Steve and Jonathan approaching from a distance. He gathered all three of them and led them to the cafeteria. Since no food was served at this hour, the place was quiet. Once everyone sat around the table, Eddie explained the blackmail Robert had used against him.

Steve suddenly stood up and started pacing around the table. His tension was evident in every movement. “Dude, you can’t write that statement. It’s obviously a trap. He’s going to take that paper from you and have you executed. The guy’s too smart,” he said. John, however, responded with a hesitant expression, “But if you don’t write it, they’ll torture Violet.” Jonathan, trying to lighten the weight of the situation, said, “Do you think Vecna’s inside this Robert guy?”

Eddie frowned as he spoke. “Could be. The guy has this grudge against me that I can’t figure out. Anyone would think I killed all his loved ones.” Steve sat back down and took a deep breath. “So, what are we going to do?” he asked. Jonathan followed with a question that hung in the air. “Do we have to escape again?”

Eddie shook his head as he answered. “We can’t escape. Oliver told Violet that all the patients in Ward C have been moved. I’m sure they’ve locked the doors too. We’re stuck here.” Steve, searching for a glimmer of hope, said, “Max got out. They’ll help us once they realize we haven’t left.” But Eddie still had doubts. “What if it’s too late?”

At that moment, everyone at the table seemed to focus their attention on the door. When Eddie looked, he saw Violet and Oliver walking toward them. Rolling his eyes, he muttered in a jealous tone, “One day, I’m going to land a good punch on that Oliver.”

When Violet reached them, she sat next to Eddie and took his hand. Oliver, on the other hand, started shaking everyone’s hands one by one. When he reached Eddie, Eddie only touched his hand lightly and responded with a fake smile.

Violet spoke with a serious expression on her face. “Oliver has something to tell you.” Eddie turned his head as if uninterested, but curiosity was growing inside him.

Oliver began to speak. “I know about the experiments and filth that Arthur has done. And I know he values those experiments too much to destroy them all at once. Those patients are somewhere in this hospital right now. I know that. And I’m sure, after your escape plan, he’s no longer keeping those files in the manager’s office. He must be keeping them in his own operating room. I’ve tried to get in there, but unfortunately, I’ve failed. No one can enter there except the assistant he keeps by his side.”

Eddie’s voice broke the silence in the room. “I’ve been inside,” he said.

Everyone turned to look at him. John had his head down, staring at his shoes, as if he already knew the answer. “When they gave me the electric shocks... I was in his operating room,” Eddie added. John raised his head slightly and spoke. “There’s only one way to get in there, and I can tell you it’s going to hurt.” Oliver slammed the table in frustration. “Great. Just great. So how are we supposed to get in?” Eddie fixed his gaze on Oliver. “Why do you even want to help us? What’s in it for you?” This question made Violet squeeze Eddie’s hand, but Eddie’s mind was elsewhere. He could understand John—he had followed Arthur this far and ended up stuck here. Violet was in trouble because she wanted to help Eddie. And Eddie himself had become a target after uncovering Arthur’s experiments. But what was Oliver’s motivation?

Oliver pulled out a chair and sat down at the table, his eyes turning to Violet. “He’s not the first doctor to fall in love with his patient,” he said. Eddie was confused. Was he in love with Violet? He opened his mouth to say something, but Oliver, realizing the misunderstanding, raised his hand to stop him. “No, not Violet. Ginny. I fell in love with her. She was transferred to another hospital at the time. I planned to follow her to wherever she went. But I couldn’t find her anywhere I went. It was like she had disappeared. There was no record of her anywhere. At the last hospital she was seen in, there were reports of other missing cases. Guess who the doctor there was?”

John, clenching his teeth, answered, “Arthur.” That single word revealed the weight of John’s guilt.

Jonathan, processing Oliver’s words, asked, “So, one of the patients in Ward C that he’s experimenting on could be Ginny?” Oliver shrugged as if to say he didn’t know, but his expression showed he thought it was possible.

Steve voiced his thoughts aloud. “Since we can’t just go up to the guy and say, ‘Hey, experiment on us too,’ or, ‘Go ahead and fry us like potatoes...’” John paused for a moment and looked into Eddie’s eyes. Then he turned to Violet.

Eddie shook his head in refusal. Jonathan and Steve understood the situation, but Oliver and Violet were looking at them with curiosity.

Violet, unable to bear it any longer, asked, “What’s going on here?” Steve turned to Eddie, about to say something. “Robert made Eddie an offer…” he began, but Eddie kicked him under the table. Steve groaned in pain. Violet suddenly stood up, crossing her arms, and spoke in a stern voice. “ I said, what is going on here?”

Eddie realized he had no choice but to tell the truth. With a sigh, he stood up, placed his hands on Violet's head, gently pulled her closer, and looked into her eyes. "Robert said he’d declare me insane in court if I wrote a letter confessing to all the crimes. And if I don’t... he said he’d torture you," he said.

Violet frowned as she looked at Eddie. "You didn’t agree to write the letter, did you?" she asked.

Eddie’s voice trembled, and he struggled to find the words. "How could I not? Violet... If they touch you, I’d die. I can’t let that happen," he said.

Violet stepped back, her expression revealing her anger. "If you write that letter, Eddie, you silly, the first thing Robert will do is drag you out of here and take you to court. You have a chance to escape, Eddie. Nobody else here does, but you do. You will never write that letter," she snapped.

She stepped forward, placing her hands on Eddie's face. Eddie put his hands on hers in return. Tears were streaming down Violet’s cheeks. Eddie’s eyes were also filling with tears. "You will never write that letter, Eddie. Promise me," Violet said, her voice trembling.

Eddie found it hard to respond to her insistence. "Violet..." was all he could say. "Promise me!" Violet shouted, tears streaming down faster.

Eddie pulled Violet close and rested her head against his chest. He held her tightly as sobs echoed through the room, placing his head to stop hers. For a moment, silence enveloped them both.

Oliver broke the moment. "Actually..." he said, as though a new idea had just occurred to him.

Everyone turned to look at him. His expression suggested he had figured something out.

John intervened quietly, "This could be really dangerous."

Oliver continued to explain his plan. "Just five minutes is enough. Less than five minutes, even."

Eddie and the others tried to grasp what he was suggesting. John, however, seemed to have already figured it out. Still, the group turned their expectant gazes toward Oliver, waiting for clarification.

Oliver elaborated. "When they take Violet into that operating room, you’ll go into the operating room too, Eddie. Isn’t that right? They’ll make you watch as they torture her. The door will be open. There’ll be staff. There’ll be doctors, nurses. It’ll be a crowded room, and while everyone is focused on the girl being tortured, no one will notice someone rifling through cabinets and drawers."

Steve interjected, " Someone who works there..."

Jonathan picked up the thought, "Like Brendon. "

Eddie raised his hand in frustration and let out a hysterical laugh. "Do you realize what you’re planning?" he said, his voice full of anger.

Violet turned to Eddie and said resolutely, "Let’s do it."

Eddie shot Violet a sharp look, grabbed her by the shoulders, and shook her angrily. "Violet. I will never allow such a thing. Never," he said.

As Eddie’s anger made his breaths heavy, his thoughts echoed in his mind. He wouldn’t watch them torture her. Not for five minutes, not even for a second. The plan was to steal the files while everyone was distracted with Violet. But for Eddie, this was unacceptable. If he were the one lying on that table, he would do it willingly. He had done it before, and just remembering the pain made his whole body tremble. But for Violet, never.

"What if the files aren’t where you think they are?" Eddie asked, his voice a mix of anger and worry. "What if someone notices you before you even get there? And let’s say you get the files. Then what happens to Violet?"

Violet took Eddie’s trembling hand and brought it to her lips. Her gesture was meant to both calm him and provide comfort in this difficult situation.

John stood up and came over to Eddie. Trying to encourage him, he spoke softly, "Do you remember the song you sang to Violet, Eddie?"

Everyone was looking at Eddie with sad expressions. However, expecting him to agree to this plan didn’t seem very fair. The anger and helplessness within Eddie were written all over his face. John continued speaking.

“You've got to lose to know how to win,” he said. It was a quote from the song Dream On that Eddie had once told Violet.

“We won’t let anything happen to Violet. We all love her so much. But we have no other choice. If they send you to your death, then how do you plan to protect Violet when you’re dead? Don’t rely on me; I’m the arsonist. Remember? After you, I’ll be the first one they come for.”

Oliver spoke, trying to calm the situation. “We’ll be quick. We promise,” he said.

Violet looked into Eddie’s eyes with a deep expression. “Can we talk for a moment?” she asked. She took Eddie by the arm and pulled him a little further away from the others. Eddie was struggling to control his emotions. If he weren’t so ashamed, he would have collapsed to the floor in sobs. Violet’s determination, however, was hidden behind the tears in her eyes.

“I can endure five minutes,” Violet said. The determination in her voice made Eddie feel even more helpless.

“I know the dose they give. I know this torture they used to do in the past. As long as they don’t exceed a certain dose, I can endure it. When I confronted Wilson about it, he said they only give the ‘legally permitted’ dose. That makes it 100 volts. Five minutes won’t cause severe trauma to my body. I’ll just recover slower than you did. Maybe by then, we’ll be free.”

Eddie gritted his teeth as he looked at Violet. “No matter what I say, you won’t back down, will you?” he asked.

Violet slowly shook her head to indicate no. Her decision was final. Eddie realized that she would proceed with this dangerous plan with or without him. If it was going to happen, at least he had to be by her side.

Together, they returned to the others. The group, looking at them with curious eyes, was impatient to learn what their decision was. Eddie carefully raised his finger and pointed at each of them one by one.

“If anything happens to her, it’s on you. I will never forgive you,” he said. His face was serious and threatening. These words created a slight sense of relief within the group, but the fear was still evident in their eyes.

Oliver finalized the plan and distributed tasks. “Go and tell Robert that you’ve rejected his offer. John, you go and inform Brendon. When they take Violet, we’ll be ready. As soon as we get the files, you tell Robert you’ll write the statement he wants. When they take Violet to the infirmary, we’ll get you all out of here. But we can’t all fit in one car.”

Violet smiled. This smile lightened the tension in the room, even if just a little. “My car is still parked outside. I’m sure the keys are in the guesthouse. You get the keys, and we’ll find someone to drive,” she said.

Steve raised his hand and volunteered. “I’ll drive.”

When Eddie told Robert that he was rejecting his offer, the expression of shock on Robert's face said it all. He had been completely sure his plan would work, but seeing Eddie refuse the offer made it inevitable that he would become suspicious. In response, Eddie, thinking that Robert might already be suspecting something, bluffed, “You wouldn’t dare anyway.” But deep down, he knew Robert would.

In the dim light of the room, Eddie held Violet tightly. Today could be the day. They had to understand that sometimes you have to lose to win. His eyes had been brimming with tears since the morning, and now they were starting to burn. As the memories of what he had experienced in this room before came rushing back, he began to tremble.

When they started laying Violet down on that stretcher, he questioned how he had been convinced to go along with such a stupid plan.

He tried to stand up and go to Violet, but the guards immediately moved to grab him by the arms and forced him back into the chair. His attempts to intervene were futile. As they began smearing that gelatinous, sticky substance on Violet’s forehead, the helplessness inside him grew.

“Stop! I’ll write the statement! Wait! Don’t do this! Don’t touch her!” he shouted.

Violet looked at him and gave him a pained smile, a single tear sliding down her cheek. She slowly shook her head, signaling no. At that moment, Eddie froze. Was this all part of a plan?

The door opened, and Brendon entered the room. His icy blue eyes met Eddie’s, and he shook his head no. Eddie wondered why Brendon wasn’t rummaging through the cabinets and hurrying to find the files. His mind was in chaos… but deep down, he knew the truth.

Violet had planned everything, solely to prevent Eddie from writing that statement and taking the blame. There were no files to be found, and no one was coming to retrieve those stupid files.

Eddie was furious with himself for even thinking that the files might still be there. Those men had probably already fed them to the shredder.

Violet had warned the others to stop Eddie from surrendering himself and ending up in the electric chair. She had orchestrated this as a way to sacrifice herself to save him. And now, Eddie was forced to watch her suffer.

He struggled against the chair, but three men held him down tightly, making it impossible to move. The tears streaming down his face blurred his vision.

Robert walked around to stand behind Eddie, placed his hands on Eddie’s shoulders, and forced his head to stay fixed on Violet. Leaning down, he mockingly whispered in Eddie’s ear, “I hope your freedom is worth this, Munson.”

Eddie tried to turn his head, but no matter what he did, it was useless. His movements were completely ineffective. Arthur stuffed a cloth resembling a gag into Violet’s mouth.

“Try not to scream too much,” he said before putting on his gloves.

Eddie was overwhelmed with unbearable helplessness. His voice had gone hoarse from screaming, and now all he could do was plead in faint whispers. Arthur turned to the nurse beside him and calmly gave instructions.

“Let’s start with 150 volts.”

“Please stop!” Eddie screamed. Manager Wilson and several guards had also entered the room, making it so crowded that it was difficult to move. Three guards held Eddie down firmly, while Robert kept his head fixed on Violet. Two nurses were holding Violet down on the bed.

Violet’s hands and feet were tightly strapped to the bed. One of the nurses was waiting to check her pulse, while the other was ensuring Violet didn’t move too much during the electroshock. The nurse picked up the electroshock device next to the machine and handed it to Arthur.

Everyone in the room watched in fear, wondering if Arthur would really go through with it. As Arthur prepared the shock device, a nun entered the room and stood by Violet’s bedside. “May God forgive your sins,” she whispered to Violet.

Violet’s fear-filled eyes were testing Eddie’s limits. Eddie was crying so much he could no longer speak. With all the strength he had left, he begged Robert.

“I’ll write whatever you want. I’ll sign anything you ask. Kill me right now. Please, kill me. I’m begging you, kill me but don’t let them touch her!”

Eddie glanced at Brendon, hoping he might help somehow, but Brendon was just standing there, frozen in fear, waiting for what was about to happen. At this point, only God could help them.

Dr. Arthur positioned the shock device on Violet’s head. He glanced at the clock hanging on the wall, then took a deep breath.

Arthur turned to Eddie and yelled angrily, “Shut him up, or I’ll increase the voltage!”

Robert grabbed one of the cloths from the nearby table and shoved it harshly into Eddie’s mouth. Eddie’s screams echoed throughout the room. Even God seemed to have abandoned them.

When Arthur pressed the button on the control panel, one of the nurses holding Violet checked the pulse in her neck. The other glanced at her watch while gripping Violet’s arm tightly. The nun standing at the head of the bed tried to steady the part of the electroshock device touching Violet’s head. The electricity was so strong that the lights on the ceiling dimmed and flickered constantly. Eddie’s guttural, animal-like cries grew more muffled.

Arthur spoke without taking his eyes off the device. “Let’s make it 200 volts.”

Brendon stepped forward and shouted angrily, “Are you insane?! You’re going to kill her!”

Arthur ignored Brendon’s words as if they were nothing more than the buzzing of a fly. He continued turning the dial on the machine to increase the voltage. One of the nurses holding Violet shouted in a panicked voice, “Her pulse is racing! She can’t take it!”

Violet’s initial screams had turned into gasps and choking sounds, as though she were struggling to breathe. Her entire body convulsed uncontrollably. Tears streamed from her eyes, and her entire body trembled, down to every strand of hair. Meanwhile, Eddie was writhing in helpless desperation, the nails of those restraining him digging into his skin.

Suddenly, Robert exclaimed, “What the hell is that? For Christ’s sake…” Everyone turned their heads to follow Robert’s gaze. The nun had momentarily pulled the electroshock device away from Violet’s head.

Violet continued to convulse. The electricity coursing through her body caused her muscles and joints to seize involuntarily.

At first, Eddie thought everyone was staring at him. But when Robert slowly removed his hands from Eddie’s head and stepped back, Eddie lifted his head and followed Robert’s gaze. Looking at the door, Eddie realized that everyone in the room was staring in fear at the same spot.

It all happened in an instant. When Eddie looked in that direction, he nearly fell off his chair in terror. The nurse standing next to Brendon was slowly rising into the air. Her pupils had turned completely white, and she appeared to be in a trance. Eddie had seen this sight before. Three times, to be exact: with Chrissy, Jason’s friend Patrick, and Violet.

It was him. Vecna was here.

As everyone ran toward the nurse now floating near the ceiling, Arthur, Wilson, and Robert seemed frozen in shock, rooted to the spot. Eddie’s thoughts were clear: He wasn’t crazy. He wasn’t a killer. The proof was here, alive, for everyone to see. Now everyone would know that Eddie hadn’t made all this up and that everything he’d said was true.

When the nurse’s right arm suddenly snapped, everyone in the room started to scatter in panic. Female nurses and nuns were screaming at the top of their lungs. Eddie began crawling on the floor, trying to make his way toward Violet’s bed. He didn’t care about the kicks and stomps from the frantic people running past him. He couldn’t control his hands or feet out of sheer terror. His brain had shut down, and his movements were reduced to instinctive thrashing. Finally, he reached the stretcher where Violet lay.

Brendon suddenly appeared, running toward him. He grabbed Eddie by the arm and pulled him to his feet. Without saying a word, Brendon began dragging him toward the door. Eddie, bewildered, protested.

“Wait! What are you doing?! I have to get Violet!” he shouted.

Brendon angrily grabbed Eddie by the shoulder and shoved him toward the door. “Go save yourself! Go! I’ll take care of her!” he said firmly.

Eddie tried to re-enter the room, but just then, he saw the lightbulb inside explode. Screams echoed in the darkness. Someone else inside had been taken, now a victim of Vecna.

At the end of the corridor, Steve and Jonathan appeared. They ran toward Eddie and grabbed him by the arms, dragging him away. Eddie resisted with all his might, but when he tried to speak, he felt the pain in his throat. As he saw Brendon rushing back inside, everything became blurry. His vision darkened, and silence enveloped him.

When he opened his eyes again, he realized they were driving through rows of trees. His head was resting against the window, and they were in a car. As his vision cleared, his eyes focused on the sign by the roadside, "Welcome to Hawkins!"

Eddie suddenly straightened up, causing Jonathan, who had been dozing in the seat next to him, to wake up and look at him. “Hey... You’re awake. Are you okay?” Jonathan asked softly.

Eddie realized he was in the back seat. When he looked ahead, he saw Hopper in the driver’s seat and Steve next to him. Both were looking back at him with curious expressions. A frustrated smile spread across Eddie’s face.

“Am I okay?! What am I doing here, huh?! Take me back to the hospital right now!” he yelled angrily.

Jonathan explained in a calm voice, “Your innocence was proven, Eddie. The judge saw Max’s statement. Plus, Manager Wilson signed off this morning saying you’re not insane. Right now, the culprit, ‘Henry,’ is being hunted everywhere. If they can catch him. You’re free now.”

Eddie clenched his teeth and said in an icy voice, “Stop the car.” Hopper kept driving. Eddie shouted louder this time, “I said stop the car!” Hopper slammed the brakes, and the car came to an abrupt halt. Eddie opened the door and started walking away without looking back.

Steve ran after him, trying to catch up. “Eddie! How do you plan to get to Michigan from here?! On foot?!” he asked, concerned.

Eddie stopped for a moment, took a deep breath, and asked without turning around, “Is Violet dead, Steve?”

Steve stayed silent for a while. The expression on his face made it clear he was trying to avoid answering. Eventually, he turned around, looked at the others, and scratched the back of his neck.

Eddie shouted angrily, “Do you expect me to leave her and John there and come here to start my ‘new life’? If they’re still in there and I’m out, it’s my fault! How could you leave without them?!”

Hopper approached him calmly and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Our priority was getting you out, son,” he said in a serious tone.

Eddie took a step back, causing Hopper’s hand to fall from his shoulder. He raised his hands to his head, nearly pulling at his hair. “Take me back there. I need to get them out. I have to save them,” he said. He was trying to speak angrily, but his voice sounded like that of a desperate victim pleading for their life.

This time, Jonathan stepped forward and spoke to Eddie. “Eddie, it was Violet and John who made us promise to get you out of there safely and bring you here. No matter the cost, we swore. They want you to move on with your life.”

Eddie quickly approached Jonathan and shoved him. Jonathan looked surprised but didn’t retaliate. Eddie continued angrily, “Isn’t Nancy your girlfriend? If the same thing happened to her, would you leave her there and move on with your life?”

He stepped aside and then moved toward Steve, shoving him too. “What if it were Robin in there? Isn’t she the sister you never had? Would you leave her there and start a new life?” he said, his voice trembling.

Eddie’s eyes filled with tears as he added, “You might love me, but if I survived in there, it’s because of them. Do you understand what you’re asking of me now?”

Hopper took a deep breath, removed his hat, and held it tightly in his hands. He was trying to find the right words. “Son, even if you went back there right now, they wouldn’t let you see them. We need a plan. Right now, you’re the only witness who knows what’s happening there. We can’t let them take you back inside. We have to think logically,” he said firmly.

Eddie, trying to believe but still hopeless, asked, “How?”

Hopper shrugged and replied, “We’ll get a search warrant. You’ll tell the national media everything that happened there. We’ll shut that disgusting place down for good, and no one will ever go near it again. But we can’t do it this way. Even the worst plan is better than no plan. You can’t just go back there on a whim.”

When Hopper gestured toward the car with his head, Eddie turned back to Jonathan and looked him in the eyes. “Is Violet dead?” he asked.

Steve chose to speak this time. He bit his lip and answered with pain in his voice. “She’s not dead. But it can’t be said that she’s alive either. They practically fried her brain. Filthy bastards,” he said angrily. Eddie, trying to stay calm, walked toward the car. About half an hour later, they reached the town center. But just then, a large crowd began running toward the car. Eddie, trying to figure out what was happening, glanced at the others in the car. They were just as confused as Eddie. When Hopper stopped the car, Eddie slowly got out.

This crowd consisted of the people of Hawkins. Dustin was at the forefront. He ran to Eddie and hugged him, and then the other kids followed, wrapping themselves around him. Max, on the other hand, stood at a distance, looking at Eddie with an embarrassed expression. Her eyes were brimming with tears, and she stood silently.

Max spoke with a trembling voice. “They told you what I did to you… I’m so sorry…” Eddie felt the moment, surrounded by the kids. Struggling, he reached out his hand toward Max. When he made a slight nod, as if to say, “Come on,” Max hesitated no longer and ran to him, hugging him tightly as well. Eddie realized how much he had missed them. These kids were his family. Since his uncle’s death, they had never left him alone. Then, he turned to the crowd waiting ahead. After letting go of the kids, he walked into the midst of the crowd. The expression on everyone’s face was the same: guilt. A deathly silence prevailed. Eddie began looking at the banners they held and read each one out loud, in a clear voice. “We’re so sorry, Eddie.”“We’re so happy you’re back home.”“We knew you were innocent.”“We’re sorry.” As he read each banner, Eddie burst into more hysterical laughter. Eventually, his laughter ceased, and he placed his hands on his hips, giving the crowd a stern look.

“You can take your apologies and shove them up your ass,” he said, as parents hurriedly tried to cover their children’s ears. Eddie stepped closer to them and continued, his voice filled with anger. “Why are you covering their ears? You let them hear the disgusting stories you told about me, didn’t you?” he said, his voice trembling with rage and pain. Eddie looked into each person’s face. He stepped toward the crowd and raised his voice. “A week ago, the same people who wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger if they saw me on the street are now looking me in the face and apologizing, is that it?” he said. The fury in his words pierced through the silence like a knife. He took another step and his tone grew louder. “You’re the same people who didn’t believe me when I said I was innocent, the ones who collected signatures to send me to the electric chair without a trial. Do you realize that?” Hopper, leaning against his car with his hat in hand, watched the scene unfold. Those surrounding Eddie followed his every move, curious about what he would do next. Eddie walked toward the banners in people’s hands. He grabbed them one by one and threw them to the ground. Then he turned to Hopper and asked for his lighter. Hopper silently handed it over. Eddie bent down and lit one of the banners. The fire quickly spread to the others. Eddie stood in front of the burning banners and raised his voice even more. “Because of the music I listen to, the clothes I wear, the hair on my head, because I wasn’t one of you, you've targeted me. Because that’s what you are. You always judge a book by its cover. You called me a murderer, but while the real killer of those kids was out there, you wasted time chasing the wrong person, making you the true killers of lost time. You’re the reason my grieving uncle took his own life. These banners you wrote with your bloodstained hands have now ruined two more innocent lives. If only once… just once, you had chosen to believe me…” Eddie’s throat tightened; he couldn’t swallow. Steve and Robin quietly approached him, taking him by the arms. They tried to lead him away from the crowd. Eddie turned once more to look at the burning banners and the guilt-ridden faces staring back at him. The pain and anger inside him grew larger with each passing moment. This town owed him a youth. It owed him a graduation. It owed him a family.

They were finally sitting in Mike’s house, in the basement. They were waiting for a voice to come through the walkie-talkie placed in the middle of the table. Before leaving the hospital, Steve had left a walkie-talkie with Brendon. Somehow, when the lights went out and the doors were locked, John would be able to reach them through this walkie-talkie.

Eddie’s eyes kept glancing at the clock. He felt like time wasn’t moving. Back in Chassell, evening would fall quickly, and the doors would shut in no time. But here, in Hawkins, it was as if time had stopped. A voice came through the walkie-talkie, filling the room. “Is anyone there?” Eddie grabbed the walkie-talkie reflexively. “Oh my God... John, is that you?” he asked, his voice trembling with both hope and fear. John’s voice echoed through, cutting the static. “Thank God you’re okay, Ed!” Eddie’s voice was filled with desperation. “John. Please tell me. Is Violet okay?” The voice from the walkie-talkie went silent for a moment. The quiet made everyone in the room more impatient. Then John’s voice echoed again, slow and hesitant. “As okay as she can be.” Eddie’s voice wavered between hope and despair. “Can I talk to her? Please. Can Brendon take the walkie-talkie to her?” John remained silent for a moment, then spoke in a regretful tone. “I don’t think that’s possible, Eddie.” Eddie’s determination was evident in his voice. “We’ll come there tomorrow with a warrant. We’re going to get you out of there.” John took a deep breath, his voice full of sorrow. “Dr. Oliver submitted a petition to the board saying Violet had overcome a critical condition. They’re going to transfer her to another hospital.” Eddie quickly asked, his voice filled with concern, “Where?” John’s response was vague and helpless. “I don’t know, but you better hurry. Eddie, I hate to say this, but I don’t think there’s much left of Violet anymore.” Eddie’s face turned pale, and fear was evident in his eyes. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice cracking. His hands wouldn’t stop trembling. John spoke quickly to end the conversation. “I have to go. Manager Wilson has increased security. He’s terrified because of the things he saw related to Vecna. We’ll talk later, Eddie.” As the voice from the walkie-talkie faded, Eddie threw it onto a chair. He paced the room, consumed by anger and helplessness. “Damn it. I have to go there. I have to get in.” Dustin spoke, his face filled with worry and disbelief. “Eddie, have you lost your mind? We literally risked our lives to get you out of there. You just got out. Now you want to go back in?” Without thinking, Eddie ran to Eleven. He grabbed her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Can you reach Violet? Please.” Eleven shrugged, her expression uncertain. “Do you have a photo or something that belongs to her?” Eddie paused for a moment, then shouted in frustration. “Damn it. No.” At that moment, Lucas suddenly spoke with excitement. “No, wait! We do!” Everyone turned their curious eyes to Lucas. He was quickly rummaging through the magazines and newspapers on the table. “Here it is!” he said, holding up a newspaper clipping and handing it to Eddie. Eddie stared at the clipping in his hands, focusing on the photo. It was taken the day they escaped from the hospital, after a car accident. The photo showed the crashed car, along with John, Eddie, and Violet. He read the text beneath the image silently, each word catching in his throat like a lump. “Two patients who escaped from a mental hospital and the hostage doctor they took with them were involved in a car accident. One of the patients and the young doctor died at the scene.” This report had been the trap set to admit Violet into the hospital as a patient, ensuring her family wouldn’t come after her. With trembling hands, he handed the newspaper to Eleven. He also took off the bandana from his head and gave it to her so she could blindfold herself. Silence filled the room. Everyone was waiting for Eleven to try reaching Violet. A few minutes later, Eleven pulled the bandana from her eyes and looked at Eddie. She slowly shook her head no. Max walked over to Eddie and hugged him. She gently wiped away the tear that had fallen from his eye. “Don’t be sad,” she said softly. “When I fell into a coma, El couldn’t reach me at first either. But now I’m here.”

Hopper placed the paper on Wilson’s desk and then slammed his fist onto the table. His face was taut with anger. “We have a warrant to search for Violet George. If I want, I’ll tear this place apart,” he said, his voice filled with determination. Wilson, however, didn’t back down. In a composed manner, he replied, “You can’t search for Violet. Because there’s no such person .” These words pushed Eddie over the edge. He strode quickly toward Wilson, but Steve immediately stepped in front of him to stop him. Eddie’s anger was written all over his face. Hopper fixed a hard stare on Wilson. “Wilson, are you not afraid of what’s coming your way?” he asked. Nodding toward Eddie, he added, “You’re really testing my limits not to let Eddie destroy you.” Wilson didn’t flinch. He responded coldly, “You can’t search for Violet because there’s no such person here. Yes, a temporary doctor was assigned to handle her case while Eddie was here. And that doctor died in a car accident. Try keeping up with the news.” Eddie took a furious step forward and shouted his question. “If she died in the accident, where’s her body? Where’s her grave?” Wilson replied with a mocking tone, “That information is only available to family members. And you’re not one of them, Mr. Munson.” Eddie’s hands were clenched into fists, trembling with rage. Hopper, however, took a deep breath and signaled with a nod for them to leave. Eddie couldn’t believe how quickly Hopper was giving up. He looked at him in shock, but Hopper’s face betrayed no emotion. Once they were outside the hospital, Eddie could no longer contain his anger and started shouting. “You said you’d get her out! I trusted you!” His voice was thick with both frustration and helplessness. Hopper calmly placed a hand on Eddie’s shoulder and said in a reassuring tone, “We need to get back in there. I mean you.” Then, with a faint smile, he added, “We’re going to bury these bastards in a septic tank, son.” Eddie paused, taken aback by Hopper’s resolve. Slowly, a smile returned to his face, and he nodded in agreement.

After dropping Eddie off in front of the hospital’s guesthouse, Hopper quickly drove away. He had mentioned a soldier friend of his, someone he spoke highly of. It was a name Eddie had heard before but had never met. This person was one of Hopper’s connections from Russia. Hopper had said they could help and even alert U.S. National Security. But while Hopper was handling his affairs, Eddie was determined to get back inside. The sky was slowly darkening, providing the perfect backdrop for another covert mission. Eddie noticed a tall figure approaching from the distance. It was clearly a man. Speaking to himself in a low voice, he thought, “I hope it’s Robert. So I can give that bastard what he deserves.” It wasn’t who he was expecting, but if Robert showed up, Eddie knew exactly what he would do to him. Anger burned like fire in Eddie’s veins. What Robert had done to them would not go unpunished. A list ran through his mind: Dr. Arthur, Manager Wilson, Prosecutor Robert... These were at the top of his target list. And then there was the nun who stood over Violet and gave her electroshock, and the male nurse who had walked with him when he first arrived at the hospital. All of their faces were etched into Eddie’s memory. He believed it was his duty to make these assholes pay, especially since the police seemed to be doing nothing. But Eddie couldn’t help asking himself: “Am I strong enough? Am I brave enough?” He had never been in a serious fight beyond high school scuffles with other teens. Yet he was convinced that these people didn’t deserve to breathe. Eddie wouldn’t let the fate of the past dictate his future. The things he once believed in had been lost under Vecna’s chains. But now there was no running. Only fighting.

When he realized the approaching person was Oliver, he stood up from the sidewalk where he had been sitting. The person he had been waiting for was finally in front of him. Oliver looked surprised when he saw Eddie. Quickly, he pushed his curly hair away from his eyes with his hands and took a step toward Eddie, extending his hand. “Eddie? What are you doing here? You left, I thought they saved you,” he said, his voice full of astonishment. Eddie gave a bittersweet smile. He wanted to show Oliver the determination in his eyes. “It would be better if we talked somewhere more private,” he said, and Oliver nodded, motioning for him to follow.

As they entered the guesthouse, Eddie took a long look at the door he believed once belonged to Violet’s room while climbing the stairs. He couldn’t think about anything but Violet. The regret inside him was growing. “I wish I had never dragged her into this,” he thought to himself. But what was done was done, and Eddie needed to find a way out of this chaos.

When Eddie and Oliver entered Oliver’s room in the guesthouse, Oliver threw the bag in his hand into a corner. He loosened his tie with his hand and took a deep breath. “What do you want to drink?” he asked, heading toward the fridge. Eddie, trying to maintain his composure, replied, “Something cold would be nice.” Oliver took two cans of soda from the fridge and handed one to Eddie. He sat on the opposite couch and opened his can. After a brief silence, he spoke. “You’re here to ask about Violet,” Oliver said, looking directly into Eddie’s eyes. Eddie hadn’t opened his soda yet. His eyes were filled with anger and despair. “Nobody’s telling me anything about her,” he said. “Oliver, you’re her doctor. I know you know something. And don’t think I’ve forgotten the dirty game you played with Violet. You tricked me! You let her sacrifice herself for me! But I still need you. Please, tell me, is she okay?”

Oliver placed the soda on the coffee table. He clasped his hands together and remained silent for a moment. He seemed to be choosing his words carefully. Finally, he spoke, “Eddie, the dose of electricity Violet received caused significant damage to her brain nerves. I don’t think she can even handle her most basic needs on her own right now. I don’t know when—or if—it will pass. I think she may have sustained permanent damage.” These words drove Eddie mad. “Do you think ?!” he shouted, leaping to his feet. His eyes were blazing with anger. “For God’s sake, did you study all those years to get that medical degree for nothing? Don’t you understand what’s happening to your patient? How is she?!” Oliver continued in a calm tone, unfazed by Eddie’s anger. “Eddie, mental illnesses are not like physical illnesses. When you have the flu, you get treated, we give you medicine, and tell you when you’ll recover. But we can’t predict when a virus growing in the mind will pass. I don’t know Violet’s condition, and I won’t be able to assess the extent of the damage for some time. She can’t even speak.”

Eddie turned to Oliver in horror. His eyes were filled with desperation. “I need to see her, Oliver. I’m begging you. Help me get in there,” he said, his voice both pleading and determined. Oliver took a deep breath and shook his head negatively. “The person you want to talk to isn’t an ordinary patient. And I can’t arrange a visit for you with a patient who is officially recorded as deceased. Wilson and the others are breathing down my neck. They’re just waiting for a chance to lock me up in blue clothes as well.” Eddie continued impatiently, “I didn’t ask you to arrange a visit for me. Get me in. As a patient. ”

Oliver raised his eyebrows in shock. He looked at Eddie as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You just got out of there, and you’ve already forgotten how you got out? If you go back in, you might never get out again. Are you insane?!” Eddie stared directly into Oliver’s eyes and replied, “If I were insane, would you admit me?” Oliver gave a faint smile. “I still wouldn’t, Eddie. We promised Violet… We would save you.”

Eddie angrily sat back down on the couch. His hands were clenched into fists, and his eyes burned with rage. “If one more person says that, the next one is getting punched. Enough already. Didn’t you come here looking for Ginny, Oliver? Aren’t you staying in this disgusting place because you think she’s here? Would you leave?” he asked, his voice rising in fury.

Oliver met Eddie’s words with a moment of silence. Instead of answering, he headed inside. A short while later, he returned with a pillow and a blanket in his hands. He tossed them onto Eddie. “Get some rest tonight. We’ll see what we can do tomorrow,” he said in a soft tone.

Eddie had been staying in Oliver's room at the same guesthouse for three weeks. During this time, they made a plan every day, but something always went wrong. Eddie needed to get inside; every second without news from Violet and John was growing heavier. Three weeks had passed, and he hadn’t heard anything about them. He had seen Brendon a few times from the window, but Oliver warned Eddie strictly not to make any contact with him. Oliver had mentioned that Violet’s condition had slightly improved, but it wasn’t enough for Eddie. He couldn’t even imagine how bad Violet’s state was. His patience was running thin.

Meanwhile, Hopper kept calling and asking if Eddie had gotten into the hospital yet. When Eddie turned off the stove after heating some canned food in the kitchen, he heard the door lock turn and stood up. When Oliver walked in, his face was filled with triumph. Eddie raised his eyebrows and looked at him curiously.

Oliver’s face was glowing with excitement. “It worked, Eddie!” he said enthusiastically. Eddie asked in surprise, “What? How?!”

Oliver continued smiling as he explained. “You’re going back to that hospital tomorrow.”

Eddie smiled and gestured toward the table with his head. Oliver excitedly rushed to the table and sat down. He pulled out a file from his bag and slid it in front of Eddie.

Eddie picked up the file and began to go through it. It was an application form. It belonged to a family from a farm in Detroit who had applied to the hospital, claiming their son was “possessed by the devil.”

Eddie looked at Oliver with confusion. Oliver smirked slightly and pointed. “Look at the child’s name and surname.” Eddie glanced at the corner of the file and read the name written there: Edward Francis Munson. A surprised smile appeared on his face. “All the Edward Munsons in the country must be nuts, I guess,” he said sarcastically.

Suddenly, a realization hit him, and he asked quickly, “Wait a second, are you going to get me inside pretending I’m this kid?” Oliver grinned and nodded. Eddie hesitated for a moment but couldn’t hold back his objection. “But what if the kid’s family comes in and asks about the application status? And everyone in that hospital knows me. They’ll know I’m not this kid. Wilson will never let me in.” Oliver spoke with confidence. “The kid’s family applied to several hospitals along with this one. And right now, one of them has already accepted them. We even had a document confirming their acceptance, but guess what—I ‘accidentally’ fed it to the shredder...”

Eddie was first shocked, then burst into laughter. “Alright, the family won’t come. How are you going to get me inside?” he asked. Oliver maintained eye contact with Eddie as he spoke decisively. “I’m a doctor, remember? If I submit a petition diagnosing you as ‘schizophrenic’ and get this file approved, once they realize there’s another Eddie, it will already be too late. They’ll think they’ve admitted another Eddie. And don’t forget—they’ve already issued death certificates for two living people. They’re aware of this. If they try to kick you out after admitting you, they’ll be in trouble because it’ll be revealed that they issued fake death certificates for you. So, Eddie, I’m asking you one last time. Do you really want to go in? Because you might never come back out.”

Eddie nodded without hesitation. “I accept the risk,” he said.

The next day, Eddie was waiting in front of the hospital doors. He ignored the curious glances from the staff passing by, merely raising his middle finger at them mockingly. At that moment, Oliver came running out of the hospital and approached Eddie. He motioned with his head that they needed to move. Eddie followed Oliver.

The pair headed toward the laundry room they had gone to the first time they entered the hospital. When they entered the laundry room, the same secretary, with the same indifferent attitude, gestured toward the section with clean clothes. Eddie removed his rings. As he started taking off the sleeveless denim jacket he wore over his leather jacket, the secretary was watching him closely. While taking off his t-shirt, he winked at the elderly secretary and headed to the section with clean clothes to put on the blue clothes.

After putting on the blue clothes he returned to Oliver, who was waiting by the door. “Can I go see Violet now?” he asked. Oliver shook his head. “First, we have another task. We’re going to the manager’s office,” he said. Eddie nodded in agreement. As they walked down the corridor, Eddie saw Brendon coming from the other direction. Brendon initially glanced at Eddie and turned his head away. But a second later, he froze and turned back to Eddie.

Brendon’s eyes widened as he recognized Eddie at the end of the corridor. He struggled to catch his breath as he spoke in astonishment. “Eddie?! You... This clothes... What are you doing here?!” Eddie smiled and responded calmly. “I’ll explain everything. Can you bring John and Violet to the common room? I’ll be there shortly.” Brendon, unsure how to respond to this unexpected request, nodded and quickly walked away. Eddie and Oliver had reached Manager Wilson’s office. With a sly grin on his face, Oliver knocked on the door and went inside. Eddie could hear the conversation inside clearly as he waited outside.

Wilson began speaking in an irritated tone. “What is it now, Oliver?” Then Arthur’s stern voice followed. “Didn’t we tell you not to come here unless it’s something important?” Oliver didn’t seem to take the situation seriously. He replied in a relaxed manner. “I want to introduce you to the patient you admitted today.” Wilson sounded exasperated. “Are we supposed to meet every patient we admit? Get out.” Oliver chuckled and added, “You’ll want to meet this one. Eddie, come on in.” Eddie pushed the door open and stepped inside. The expression that appeared on Wilson and Arthur’s faces was pure shock. Eddie watched this change with great delight. The satisfaction on his face was almost a challenge to the dismayed mood of those in front of him. Wilson quickly opened the drawer next to him and pulled out a file. He flipped through the pages so fast that they almost tore. Finally, he stood up and angrily pointed his finger at Oliver. "You... You played us, didn’t you? You tricked us. Do you think you’re very clever?" Oliver didn’t seem affected by Wilson’s threatening demeanor. He spoke calmly. "If you want, you can discharge Eddie right now. But that will lead to two outcomes. First, a public lawsuit will be filed against you for endangering public safety by releasing a potentially dangerous 'schizophrenic' patient without completing their treatment. Or Eddie will sue you after being discharged because you admitted the wrong person and kept someone innocent here. In short, Manager, you’ve stepped in it. You have no choice but to keep him here." Arthur, who had been quietly listening to Oliver, turned to Eddie with a conflicted expression. "You shouldn’t be here," he said. Wilson glared at Eddie with a displeased look, while Arthur stepped forward and began speaking in a threatening tone. "You think you’ve done something clever by coming here. Right now, you’re nothing more than a lamb that’s returned to the wolves’ den." Eddie, unfazed by the threat, replied. "Want to give it a try? This time, we won’t stay silent. We won’t let people like you torment people like us. By the time I’m done here, Arthur, they’ll strap you into a straitjacket and fry you." Arthur’s face reddened with anger at Eddie’s words, and he snapped back. "Do your worst, Munson." Eddie kept his composure and delivered one final remark. "Careful, or my worst might blow up somewhere inappropriate for you." Despite Arthur’s shocked expression, Eddie merely stared at him coldly. Oliver took Eddie by the arm and led him out of the room. Together, they walked toward the common room.

In the common room, Brendon and John were sitting on a couch. The moment John saw Eddie, he jumped up and quickly embraced him. Tears streamed down his face. "You’re an idiot, Eddie. You’re an idiot for coming back here," he murmured. Eddie hugged John tightly in return. His eyes were searching for someone else. John noticed that Eddie was looking for Violet, and his expression suddenly turned serious. Bowing his head slightly, he spoke. "I wanted to warn you before you see her, Eddie. I’m not sure if you can handle it. Actually, I asked Oliver to wait a few weeks before bringing you in. Seeing her in those first moments wouldn’t have done you any good. She’s a bit better now." Eddie interrupted John’s explanations, impatiently asking, "Where is she?" The lump in Eddie’s throat made it hard to breathe and swallow. John nodded toward Brendon. Brendon silently left the common room and returned a few minutes later, walking with someone holding onto his arm. Eddie froze for a moment when he saw that person. Was that... Violet? Violet was stumbling as she walked and struggling to stay upright. Her gaze was vacant and fearful as she glanced around. Even from a distance, it was clear her mind was in disarray. With each step, she looked at Brendon in fear. Brendon spoke softly, encouragingly, as if trying to reassure her. "It’s okay. We’re almost there." Eddie noticed the red scars on either side of Violet’s forehead. The wounds had scabbed over, and some areas had stitches. The sight made Eddie’s hands tremble. He couldn’t stop the tears welling up in his eyes. Violet and Brendon had barely managed to cover a few steps in a minute because of Violet’s frightened and shaky movements. John watched Eddie’s face, waiting for his reaction. But Eddie didn’t know what to say. Violet was standing in front of him, but she wasn’t the Violet he knew. An indescribable fear filled him. Brendon walked over to Eddie and placed a hand on his shoulder. "This is her good state, buddy," he said. "At least she can form sentences. She couldn’t even swallow without help before." Brendon’s attempt to console him only deepened Eddie’s pain. When Violet finally reached Eddie, she still wasn’t lifting her head. Eddie gently held her face with his hands and raised it. "Violet?..." he said, his voice trembling. Violet looked into Eddie’s eyes, frightened. The fear in her eyes was unmistakable. Eddie, feeling like she might break if he touched her, slowly pulled his hands back. At the same time, Violet took a step back and hid behind John. Like a child embarrassed and hiding behind a parent, Violet peeked at Eddie from over John’s shoulder. Then she leaned into John’s ear and whispered. Her voice was soft but clear enough for Eddie to hear. Violet tilted her head toward John’s shoulder and whispered fearfully, "John... I don’t know him..." After those words, tears streamed uncontrollably down Eddie’s face. John bit his lip and grimaced, hugging Violet tightly. As Violet’s sobs grew louder, Eddie stopped trying to hold back his own tears. At that moment, Oliver moved to Eddie’s other side. "For now, she only trusts me and John," he said quietly. "She doesn’t recognize anyone else. We don’t know when she’ll come around or start remembering things." Eddie couldn’t find anything to say. The lump in his throat felt like a sharp blade, making it impossible to swallow. John looked into Eddie’s eyes and spoke firmly. "But that’s not our biggest problem," he said with determination. Eddie fixed his gaze on John. What could be worse than this?

Oliver pointed to someone sitting in the corner. At first, Eddie couldn’t recognize who it was. There was a familiar feeling, but the person had changed so much that it was hard to remember. He was clean-shaven, wearing blue clothes, and his haggard appearance made him nearly unrecognizable. But when Eddie looked closer, he realized. This was Prosecutor Robert Hills.

When Robert saw Eddie, he stood up. Eddie held his breath. Rage enveloped his entire body, and his vision seemed to darken with fury. There was only one person responsible for Violet’s condition, and that was Robert. Dr. Arthur might have strapped her to that bed and administered the electric shocks. Manager Wilson might have turned a blind eye or even supported it. But the one who started it all, the one who pulled the pin on the grenade, was Robert.

Eddie started walking quickly toward Robert. Robert took a step back at the sight of Eddie’s furious approach. He was taller than Eddie, but that didn’t matter to Eddie in the slightest. Just before landing his fist on Robert’s face, Eddie’s expression shifted into a cold smile.

With Eddie’s first punch, Robert was pushed back against the wall behind him. He tried to shield his face with his hands, so Eddie directed his next blows to his groin, stomach, and ribcage.

As the assault intensified, Brendon and Oliver rushed to intervene, grabbing Eddie’s arms. But Eddie didn’t stop; he began kicking Robert instead. Finally, Robert fell to the ground, curling into a fetal position to protect himself.

Oliver, furious, grabbed Eddie and shoved him forcefully. “Do you want to end up in a cell your first day here, Eddie?! Get a grip!” he yelled.

At that moment, Wilson and Arthur entered the room, probably having heard the commotion. They stood there with expressions of both concern and curiosity. When they saw Eddie, they exchanged a sly smile and simply watched the scene unfold.

Arthur spoke in a mocking tone, “So, you’ve seen the big surprise, I take it.”

Eddie shouted angrily, pointing toward Robert. “What is this asshole doing here?! Did you put him here so I’d kill him and become a murderer?!”

Wilson shrugged nonchalantly and replied, “Do whatever you want with him. We’re done. Just try not to make too much of a mess. Bloodstains are hard to clean.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Wilson and Arthur turned and left the room without the slightest concern. Meanwhile, Robert struggled to his feet, clutching his stomach. Slowly, he wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and took a deep breath.

Breaking the silence, Robert spoke in a pained tone. “If you’re going to kill me, then do it, Eddie. I don’t have much reason to live anyway.”

Eddie fixed his gaze on Robert and raised his voice. “Shut up. Don’t try to play the victim. I don’t feel a shred of pity for you, Robert. You deserve every bit of what’s happened to you.”

Robert lowered his head at Eddie’s harsh words. With a slight sigh, he said, “I can’t blame you for thinking that way. If you were in my shoes, maybe you’d understand.”

Eddie laughed bitterly. “I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes. You’re a disgusting piece of trash. We trusted you, and you threw us back in here. You’re going to rot here, Robert,” he hissed.

Robert replied calmly, “So will you. You’re no different from me now.”

Eddie’s eyes darkened further. As he lunged forward to attack again, Brendon quickly grabbed his arm and forcefully pulled him back. “Can’t you see? He’s provoking you. They’ll really lock you up if you keep this up, Eddie. Let’s get out of here,” Brendon said, his voice carrying a clear warning.

Clenching his teeth, Eddie broke free from Brendon’s grip and turned away, heading toward where Violet was. Violet watched Eddie’s approach with fear. As he got closer, she retreated further, hiding behind John. Eddie tried to put on a soft and innocent smile. All he wanted was for Violet not to be afraid of him.

When Eddie reached out his hand, Violet locked eyes with him. Eddie spoke gently, “Hi, beautiful, I’m Eddie. Do you remember me?” he asked. Instead of answering, Violet looked over to the corner where Robert stood. Her gaze clearly revealed that she was now afraid of Eddie because of what he had done to Robert.

When Eddie saw that look, he bit his lip. Suppressing the wave of regret rising within him, he took another step closer and gently took Violet’s hands in his. “He’s a bad man,” he said, his voice trembling.

Then Eddie looked deeper into Violet’s eyes and continued, “I would never hurt you, Violet. I’d never let anything happen to you again. Never,” he whispered. The sincerity in his words seemed to slightly ease Violet’s apprehension. Instead of pulling her hands away, Violet held Eddie’s hands in return.

Eddie was sitting at the long and uncomfortable cafeteria table with John and the others. It had only been three days since Eddie returned to the hospital, and he had been waiting for news from Hopper ever since. Hopper claimed he was making arrangements, but whatever he was arranging, he needed to hurry. The hope inside Eddie was fading a little more with each passing day.

He looked at John sitting across from him. John was playing with his food, appearing distracted and lost in thought. Eddie turned his gaze from John to Violet sitting beside him. Violet was trying to eat, filling her spoon with soup and struggling with her shaky hand. But her wrists were so weak that the soup spilled all over her before she could even bring the spoon to her mouth.

Eddie picked up a napkin from the basket next to him and gently wiped Violet’s mouth. Then he placed his hand over Violet’s trembling one. Violet looked at Eddie with surprise.

“Hold on, sweetheart, let me help you,” Eddie said with a smile. He took Violet’s spoon and began helping her drink the soup.

John rubbed his face with his hands. Taking a deep breath, he grumbled, “How much longer is this going to go on? I can’t stand seeing her like this. We need her right now.”

Eddie set the spoon aside and raised his head slightly. “She’s in this state because of me,” he said, his voice breaking.

John sighed and looked at Eddie. “We’ve talked about this, Eddie. It was her choice. No matter what you did, she would have sacrificed herself anyway. For your freedom.”

Eddie replied sharply, “Freedom, for me, isn’t outside these walls. It’s wherever she is, John.”

John rolled his eyes and spoke in a sarcastic tone. “Dude, if you don’t get out of here, you’re not going to marry her and live happily ever after. You’ll either die from the filth here or the experiments. This place isn’t safe for anyone.”

Eddie ran his hand through his hair and chuckled lightly. “Speaking of filth, we could use a shower,” he said.

John nodded in agreement. Eddie continued, “I’ll take Violet to her room and be right back.”

When Eddie took Violet’s arm to support her, she clung tightly to him. She did this every time they were going somewhere. She held on so tightly that her nails dug into Eddie’s arm. She was afraid of everything and everyone, as if she had aged prematurely. Her memory was completely blank; she remembered nothing and no one. Eddie placed his hand over Violet’s and spoke softly.

“Baby, you’re cold,” he said. He took off his jacket and gently placed it over Violet’s shoulders. Then he leaned down and zipped it up.

Violet suddenly asked, “What day is it today?”

Eddie looked up at her, as if not understanding the question for a moment.

Violet continued with a hint of curiosity in her eyes, “Have I ever asked you this before?”

A smile spread across Eddie’s face. He stood up quickly, pulled Violet close, hugged her tightly, and stroked her hair while inhaling its scent. “Yes, my angel, you’ve asked me. Every day, you used to ask me. Do you remember?”

Violet nodded slightly in affirmation. She was beginning to remember. Eddie waited patiently. No matter how long it took, he believed Violet would get better. Even though Oliver had said Violet might regain some memories but would never be the same, Eddie didn’t want to believe it. Violet was his Violet.

After taking Violet to her room, Eddie went to the men’s bathroom. John had already filled the tub with hot water and gotten in. There was no privacy here; all the tubs were lined up side by side.

There were no curtains or stalls in the bathroom, as if the only way to prevent people from harming themselves was to leave everything open. But in this hellish place, where rapists and murderers roamed freely, was this truly the safest solution they could come up with? Lost in these thoughts, Eddie took off his clothes, threw them on the floor, and turned on the water in a tub.

He got into the tub, trying to relax. His eyes fell on John in the next tub. “Got a cigarette?” he asked, dunking his head underwater and wiping his face as he surfaced. John bent down, grabbed a cigarette, and tossed it to him. Eddie struck a match, lit his cigarette, and leaned against the edge of the tub, watching the smoke drift through the air as he sought a moment of peace.

John suddenly jolted and spoke. “Hey, someone’s coming.”

Eddie quickly flicked his cigarette to the floor. The room was already filled with steam from the hot water, so it was unlikely anyone would suspect the smoke. When Eddie saw that it was Robert who had entered, he sighed deeply and rolled his eyes. He would have to light another cigarette. Robert walked over, turned on the water, and sat on the edge of the tub as it filled, looking as if he hadn’t expected to find them there.

Eddie took a drag from his cigarette and spoke with a mocking expression. “What’s up, Robert? Here to wash away your sins?” he said, smirking slightly. Robert didn’t reply.

For three days, every time Eddie saw Robert, he made snide remarks, trying to provoke him. But no matter what Eddie did, Robert rarely reacted. Still, it was fun to mess with him like a cat playing with a mouse. Robert was terrified of Eddie, and Eddie enjoyed it.

John joined in with a laugh. “Oh, come on, Eddie. Even if Robert washed with all the water in the city, he still wouldn’t be clean. He’s got the blood of the innocent on him,” he said sarcastically.

Robert silently took off his blue shirt and looked at Eddie as he spoke. “You know, Eddie?” he said, his voice carrying a hint of mockery. Eddie looked at him with an indifferent expression. Robert continued in the same calm tone, “It doesn’t suit you to treat the only person who can help you like this.”

A look of anger spread across Eddie’s face. “Help me with what, exactly? You’re not capable of helping anyone but yourself. We’ve seen that once, and we’ve learned our lesson,” he said sharply.

Ignoring Eddie’s reaction, Robert replied, “I can heal Violet.”

With these words, Eddie slowly straightened from where he was. Holding onto both sides of the bathtub, he stood up. He grabbed the towel nearby and wrapped it around his waist. Water dripped from his hair and body, forming small puddles on the floor. As the sound of his wet footsteps echoed through the silent bathroom, he walked toward Robert. His eyes radiated sharp anger in response to the words he had just heard. "What did you say?" he asked harshly.

Robert rolled his eyes, ignoring Eddie's reaction. "You heard me," he said indifferently.

Meanwhile, John, observing the situation, burst into laughter. "A seasoned doctor can't do anything, but our little runt prosecutor is going to heal Violet? Really?" he said mockingly.

Robert tilted his head slightly and looked at John. "Do you honestly think that's my profession? A prosecutor?" he retorted.

Eddie took a deep breath and leaned against a bathtub, speaking with a disdainful expression. "You're right. Prosecutors are men of justice. The only thing you'd be fit for, Robert, is a circus freak," he said coldly.

Robert turned off the faucet filling the tub and replied in a calm tone, "Fine, if you don’t want my help, that’s your choice."

Eddie's expression hardened. "You're right, we don’t. Because there’s nothing you can do," he countered.

Robert stared at Eddie’s face for a moment before slowly stepping toward him. The distance between them was nearly gone. Eddie had to straighten up from where he was leaning. John, startled by the sudden movement, became alert. As a trained officer, he was ready for any threat and quickly stood up.

Robert extended his hand toward Eddie. As Eddie tried to figure out the meaning of this gesture, Robert turned his arm. Eddie froze in place as if rooted to the ground, staring at the tattoo on Robert’s wrist. He quickly looked over at John. John, who had approached with the towel still tied around his waist, was also looking at Robert’s extended hand.

John asked in astonishment, "003? What does that mean?"

Eddie’s voice was filled with mixed emotions. "You’re one of them… like Eleven," he said.

Robert nodded in confirmation. Eddie ran his hands over his face, muttering, "But… How? Why? What?"

Robert responded with a sly smile on his face. "You couldn’t even figure out where it was coming from, could you, Eddie? Why I was so determined to see you dead? Because he wanted it. Vecna. Henry, to be precise."

Eddie spoke as if the air had been knocked out of him. "You knew about Vecna all along. You knew about the murders. You knew everything. Even while we were running."

Robert nodded in acknowledgment of Eddie’s words.

Eddie’s gaze was fixed on Robert. The questions in his mind grew with every passing second. "I don’t understand. What are you doing here?" he asked.

Robert took a deep breath and answered with a composed expression. "I started working for Vecna, and we became… connected, in a way. If he dies, I die too. So I have to do whatever he wants. When I came here, my main goal was to have you executed. But then I realized something even Vecna didn’t know. Eddie, you’re not so different from me after all."

Eddie’s eyes narrowed further. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Robert continued, "You remember the day Violet was hooked up to the electroshock machine. Two people in the room went into a trance and died. You saw it, didn’t you?"

Unwillingly, Eddie nodded.

Robert’s words were chilling. "That wasn’t Vecna. It was you, " Robert said with conviction.

Eddie’s teeth clenched as he retorted angrily, "You’re lying."

Robert maintained his composure as if he had anticipated this reaction. "Believe me or don’t. Until that moment, even I didn’t understand. Because Vecna wasn’t there. I can feel him. I know where he is. He was definitely not there that day. And I wasn’t doing it either. Something like that requires great power, pain, and anger. And at that moment, you were the only one in the room with those feelings. You did it."

Eddie’s voice rose, filled with conflicting emotions. "I didn’t do anything! I… I don’t have any connection to Vecna! I’ve never even seen him alive!"

Robert stepped closer to Eddie and pointed to his side, where his kidneys were. "You don’t need to see him to be connected to him. The demobats bit you. Hive mind. You’re connected to him now. So Eddie, if Vecna gets hurt, if he dies, you’re connected to him. You’ll die too. You have powers you don’t even know about yet. And you don’t realize how dangerous you are."

Eddie’s eyes were burning with anger. "I don’t believe a single word you’re saying, Robert. Even if I assumed it was true, I would never serve him," he declared with determination.

Robert smirked mockingly and shrugged. "You don’t choose to serve him, idiot. He uses you whenever he wants. Since you were bitten, has he ever tried to come and hunt you down? Have you ever found yourself passed out without meaning to?" he asked.

John, overwhelmed by the conversation, raised both hands in the air. "Wait, wait. What’s a demobat? I don’t understand anything. Is someone going to explain this to me?" he asked desperately.

Robert began speaking calmly, as if giving a lecture. "Vecna was once a normal but dangerous kid with superpowers. I was the same. I was always different. But one day, in the lab where the doctor who wanted to test our power worked, something happened. A portal to another dimension was opened. Vecna is now the king there. And everything connected to that place serves him. Eddie was bitten by the creatures there. And he quite literally came back from the dead. You remember, don’t you, Eddie?"

Eddie lowered his head and said nothing.

Taking encouragement from the silence, Robert continued. "Your survival isn’t a miracle. You weren’t supposed to live. He brought you back to life. Just like he brought me back and bound me to him. Now, you were saying we’re not the same, that we’re different. Doesn’t seem so different to me, huh?"

As these words echoed in Eddie’s mind, he couldn’t help but ask another question. "What you said about Violet. Were you serious?"

Robert, exuding confidence, raised his hand and moved his fingers one by one. "I have my own tricks."

taglist:@arabellagreenleaf @cokepowder55 @nessa3nessa @25bohemianmoons @nicholaschavezslut69 @multyfangirl @t-folklore13

62 notes · View notes

thetreefairy · 2 years ago

Note

Is it alright if I request Yandere father Gojo satoru where his daughters ability is to control time since Gojo has absolute control over space at an atomic level and she also has infinity but he never taught her how to use it but durining the shibuya arc she either reverses or stopped time to save a couple of people a d stop certain events from happpening (if this is too much you do t have to do the whole shibuya arc part )

Sorry that this is long anyways have a nice night/day ( `ε´ )

Since I have not watched season 2 yet, I am not doing the shibuya arc part. Since you also specified fem pronouns, the reader will be fem.

edit: hehehe, I forgot to say: have a nice day as well and I loved this request :D

warnings: yandere themes, isolation mentioned (I do not condone this and if you can seek help please do), Gojo is a piece of shit and two-faced, Reader is done with life, swearing because author is in pain and sick and when the author is sick they swear a lot, vague ending

I don't understand the ability completely, but I made it so that if you didn't master it properly you can get hurt when you use the ability (which might actually be apart of it, but my memory is shit)

Ko-fi

Consequences and actions

Goji Satoru was the first sorcerer to be born with limitless and six eyes in 400 years, so truly he was surprised when he saw that his daughter had them too. It was weaker than his, yes.

But he didn't know what to do. He didn't want his daughter to master both because then she wouldn't need him anymore.

"Dad can you teach me use both?" Reader had once asked, and his answer was: "There is no reason for you to learn."

It frustrated Reader to no end, she had the abilities but she wasn't allowed to develop and become a full-pledged sorcerer.

Satoru could understand Reader's frustration to an extent, but after a while of you complaining and begging to start training, he started to get annoyed.

"Reader, if you don't stop complaining right now, you will lose your communication privileges." Satoru hissed. Reader scoffed and muttered; "You should just call it isolation."

"Watch your mouth." Satoru hissed. "That's no way to speak to your father."

Reader rolled her eyes. "I just don't get why." Satoru sighed and spoke softl; "It's too dangerous, you would get on the curses radar and right now I got the world believing that you are just a child with no special powers, with no grade."

"When you are gone." Reader started. "How will I be able to protect myself if you aren't here?"

"That's not for you to worry about, now stop complaining and whining about it."

Unfortunately for Satoru his students like Reader more than him, so they helped her with learning how to control their abilities. Well to the best of their extent.

So when Reader had been good in Satoru's opinion she could tag along on a school mission. "Remember, if there is a fight run don't fight. I'll find you with your tracker."

"Wait what tracker-"

"Excuse me I misspoke. Habits, I meant habits." Satoru lied quickly with a grin and kissed Reader' forehead, sounding rather soft. "Now can you promise me you'll stay out of the way before we meet with the class?"

Reader nodded and hugged Satoru. "Thank you dad for taking me with you."

"No problem, kid." Satoru chuckled.

Unfortunately for Reader she couldn't keep that promise. Out of instinct she protected Satoru and Yuji for a curse that suddenly appeared. What was worse is that she used her abilities.

But using your abilities out of instinct can hurt you quite a lot, Reader started to bleed out of her eyes..

"D-dad." Reader muttered out. "I am sorry, I didn't mean to, I'm sorry."

Satoru brushed away Reader's blood stained tears. "It's okay, you did it out of instinct." This caused Reader to become confused. "Y-you aren't mad?"

"Baby, you are injured you think I will be mad right now?" Satoru asked Megumi to grab his eye cream and used it on you. "Class dismissed."

Satoru took Reader home, unexpectedly calm. Causing Reader to feel like a storm was coming. Satoru was making her a drink when he asked: "You trained your abilities, didn't you?"

Reader tensed up and nodded slowly. It was better to be truthful, right now. "... I suppose I cannot be that angry as it might have saved your life." Satoru muttered with a frown. "Drink this."

A glass of soda was put infront of her. Reader drank it, she was quite de-hydrated. "Thank you, papa."

"Why did you train without my permission?" Satoru asked. "I want to be able to protect myself." She admitted. "So that you can trust me with going out more."

Satoru chuckled as her eyes became dazy. "Perhaps you should figure out when your drink is spiked then."

Reader stood up and stepped back in shock.

"Awh, did you really think you wouldn't be punished?" He grinned. "How cute my dear daughter."

She tried to back away knowing full well what will happen.

"Maybe I should break your legs." Satoru mumbled doing a fake thoughtful look. "I got it!"

"Dad, please."

"I will make sure that you fully understand my love!" Reader knew what this meant, being locked up, and much more. "Maybe I should get you another parent to help with that as well..."

Oh, that was new.

"But I don't want to share you at all...."

667 notes · View notes

kaylopolis · 4 months ago

Text

Alastor's Shadow (18+) - My Fawn & My Shadow: Chapter Eighteen

Alastor x F!Reader

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months earlier than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. After all, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plan brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down but also challenge your grab for power…

Tag List: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

(Let me know if you want to be added to the Tag List!)

____________________________________________

Author note: Dear Hoteliers,

Why 2 alternate endings? A few reasons; the main reason is because I wrote this first part with Angel and Mikaela and FELL IN LOVE with it. It was so cute and adorable I had to include it somehow. Also, because not everyone loves a pregnancy trope. I, particularly, was genuinely torn. I could not decide how I wanted things to end. "My Fawn and My Shadow" will include a pregnancy trope but "Paris" will not.

I will say, the epilogue I have planned for "My Fawn and My Shadow" had me crying (were they happy tears? were they sad tears? Is she foreshadowing? IDK!) - but, that being said, to each their own. Should you choose to read both, be aware that some sections are straight up copy and paste. The Epilogues will obviously vary greatly.

P.S. Ignore the timeline for the pregnancy trope. In reality, this is not how biology works. But someone *cough* author *cough* forgot to factor in the timeline by the time she got to this chapter... It was part of my original outline, but I got carried away *insert upside-down smiley face here*

<3 Stay smutty

My Fawn & My Shadow:

Chapter Eighteen

Content Warning: Unwanted Pregnancy, Suggestions of Abortion, Self Harm

T-6 Hours Before the Portal Opens...

“Angel!” you practically screamed, falling into the spider demon’s destroyed room. Well, technically, it was not destroyed; this was his normal state of being.

You fall onto the bed, your foot catching on a wadded-up sweater on the ground. You got a face full of Fat Nuggets before Angel jumped up and almost punched you in the stomach.

“What the fuck are you doin’ in here, Hairclip, screaming and scaring the shit out of me this early in the mornin’!?” He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. You noted the time - it was ten in the morning - not that early. Well, early for Angel.

“I need you to come with me somewhere,” the anxiety was bubbling in your chest, overflowing into your words.

Angel paused, “Is everything okay? Is it the Extermination? Did they come early!?”

“Angel,” you bite. “Please?”

He looked at you, trying to read behind your eyes, before fully seeing how serious you were. He nodded before pushing Fat Nuggets to the side so he could get up and dress.

“So, uh, where we goin’?” He asked as he pulled on a pair of pants. The demon struggled a bit, be it the sudden cessation of slumber or the booze from yesterday, or both, you didn’t know.

You curl into yourself on his bed, knotting your hands together to stop the shaking. “Wrath.”

Angel froze, his eyes alight with shock. “I’m sorry, toots, I don’t think I heard ya’ right. Wrath? As in the Circle of Hell?”

You nodded.

“Wow,” he gawked. “This is serious… Wait, I can’t leave Pride, so how…”

You snapped your fingers before he finished his sentence, amassing a portal in the middle of his room. The Circle’s familiar orange glow illuminated his white fur.

Angel jumped backward and fell on the ground, his mouth gaping at the interdimensional crack you just punched into his bedroom wall. “Holy shit fuck!”

Oh, you forgot only Alastor knew you could do that. Desperate times, however…

“You can, actually,” you shrug. “Just gotta take a different door.”

Angel looked between you and the wall a few more times before shaking his head and finished dressing.

Your mind was numb, your thoughts all jumbled into a knotted mess. How could this have happened? It wasn’t possible. It just wasn’t…

“Hey,” he put a hand on your knee, pulling you from your thoughts. “Ya’ okay?” He looked down at you with wide eyes. Angel was the only one you could trust right now.

You nod before taking his hand.

Wrath was a time capsule, stuck in the ages of the Wild West: the American Frontier. Fitting the place named for anger was a desert.

Despite the change of seasons in the world above, Wrath was scorching. Although the Harvest Moon Festival was still a few months away, the locals were skittering about the small town in preparation. They were so busy they didn’t think twice at the two strangers zipping through the traffic, hidden under hoods and glasses. Angel protested at first, but once you pointed out that Wrath natives were imps, then he understood - the spider demon would stick out like a sore thumb.

The demon ducked under the doorframe - probably three times the height of an average imp, but you couldn’t help that. The imps stared but not too long.

“A convenience store? You dragged me all the way down here for a candy bar?” Angel spun in circles, taking in everything.

God, he was so obvious.

“No,” was all you could manage.

Being a Native Heaven born you were subject to certain… biological processes that Human Sinners were not. No surprise the Pride Ring didn’t sell the necessary products to aid in those situations, so you’d slip down here, grab a few things and head back up.

But this…

You headed down the aisle labeled “Feminine Products” and stopped deadpan at what you were looking for. There were so many options, how did you know which one was the right one?

“So hey, how about we check out a bar while we’re… Oh,” Angel came to a stop next to you, noticing the blood drain from your face at the things you were looking at. “Oh, shit, Hairclip.”

“Yeah,” your voice cracked, trying to hold back tears.

Angel’s hand found your shoulder. He shook his head. “But how? I thought Human Sinners couldn’t… ya know?”

“Reproduce.” You filled in the blank for him. “Me neither.”

Angel was silent for a moment, letting it all sink in.

“But…” your lip quivered, “then I remembered my brother and Lilith. Where Adam was the first human soul in Heaven, Lilith was the first human soul in Hell, technically, and they had Charlie. I’m an Angel, like my brother and Al is a Human Sinner so…”

“Shit,” Angel breathed.

Then you started to chuckle, “I don’t even know which one to buy.”

Angel pulled you close, “Me neither, dollface, but we’ll figure this out together. I’m assuming you got money?”

You nodded, the anxiety bubbling over into silent tears on your face. You started hiccuping, the emotional wave too much for your frazzled mind to handle.

Angel grabbed all five of them, paid for them with the Native money you pulled from your pocket, then dragged you into the bathroom and locked the door.

You sat on the floor, Angel starting a timer for the three minute countdown. Longest three minutes of your life.

The spider demon sat cross-legged across from you. “So, why bring lil’ ol’ me and not Smiles?”

You hiccuped, bringing your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around yourself. “The Extermination is today. I can’t… He can’t be thinking about me. He has Adam to deal with. He can’t…”

“And what about yous?”

You breathed, “I’ll be on the field with you guys, just like we planned.”

“But…”

“No.” You stopped him. “No, Angel. No matter what happens, Al can’t know. Not until after. Please,” you begged. “He can’t know anything is wrong he…” you hiccuped. “Al isn’t as strong and invincible as he seems.”

“Wow, here I thought you thought he walked on water.”

You dropped your face into your knees and gave a small sob. The memories of the fake Radio Demon being held hostage at Voxtech flit through your mind. And, although it wasn't actually Al tied to the chair, he was still a Human Sinner. Which meant he could die. You could as well but not as easily...

“Hey, hey,” Angel crawled to your side and pulled you into your arms. “Okay, okay, I won’t say nothin’.”

“Not around radios either,” you sniffled. “They work both ways with Al.”

You had tested it in passing the other day. Just to see what would happen. Although Al was not happy about the dirty comment you made into his speaker - as it pulled him from important business in one of his territories - he didn’t seem too upset when he pulled you through his shadows and properly snogged you in the Hotel hallway.

“Shit, seriously? If that’s the case then that man’s heard a lot of things from me he shouldn’t have. A lot of fun noises, too.” The spider demon wriggled his eyebrows, making you giggle.

Angel always knew how to bring a smile to your face.

“So, can I ask ya’ somethun’?” Angel’s tone turned serious, making your heart skip a beat. “Is the sex good?”

You snorted, drying the tears under your eyes.

“Look I ain’t judging, Hairclip, but ya’ always come down with these bruises and… marks. Don’t get me wrong it's hot, but I just wanna make sure he ain’t like… hurtin’ ya’ or nothin’?”

“No, no Angel. Al is a gentleman, I assure you.” A small smile formed on your lips.

“So?” He nudged you.

“Insanely,” you giggled.

“Figures. He’s hung isn’t he?” He winks.

You snorted into your hand. “Angel!”

“Oh, come on. You ain’t gonna tell me the Radio Demon ain’t packin’? No way, I don’t believe it.”

“Well…” your face turned a bright red.

“I fuckin’ new it!” Angel cheered.

RING! RING! RING!

You stopped breathing completely. Angel shut off the alarm, before turning to you. “You want me to…?”

You nodded, your eyes staring off into space, the only thing you could hear was the pounding of your heart in your ears. You couldn’t look up as Angel checked the tests, didn’t dare try to read the expression in his eyes and mouth.

The demon grabbed one, wrapped in a paper towel, and knelt before you.

“Before I show you this,” he turned the test upside down so you couldn’t read it. “Tell me what you’re thinkin’.”

A shaky breath escaped your lips, “I…”

What were you thinking? Fear, definitely fear, but were you devastated? Excited? Filled with hope or filled with dread? You didn’t know what to feel. You didn’t know what to feel because you didn’t know how Al was going to react if it came back positive.

Would he be angry? Would he be excited? Would he even react at all?

No. Your heart sank. No, he wouldn’t be excited. There are two things Al cares about: power, and chaos. There wasn’t room for anything else… or anyone…

You’d have to get rid of it.

“I think, no matter what, I’ll tell Al after the Extermination tomorrow.”

Angel nodded and flipped the test over.

____________________________________________

T-3 hours until the portal opens…

“Okay, okay, I got this!” Collin breathed.

Cletus banged him atop his head, “Just open the door!”

The sheep shot a dirty look at the… baby?... before drying his sweaty hooves on his overalls.

This was it. This was the moment Collin had been waiting for his entire life. He has only ever seen the famous General at a distance and worshipped her from a far during meetings and through photographs. He had every single one of her fan club t-shirts and collector’s pins. He knew her battle strategies inside and out and scored perfect at every trivia night. He was the ultimate fan-girl and this was his moment to shine.

And he was terrified.

“Oh, my gosh!” Kennie shoved past him. “I’ll do it!” She prostrated before pulling the bedroom door open.

The group froze, stunned by the sight of the yellow-eyed Angel ready and waiting for them on the other side. Mikaela Morningstar sat in a clothed chair perfectly perched in the entryway to her bedroom. The Angel had just finished the top laces of her leather boots before the Cherubs burst through the doorway.

Mikaela had been waiting for them.

Collin’s jaw audibly hit the floor at the sight of the warrior, legs crossed, one eyebrow perched in question, staring down at the three of them. She was like a goddess in material form - not to disrespect the Maker, of course. Her beauty practically radiated off of her in golden light as captivating as her irises. Although she had changed her hair and her wings were tucked out of the way, she was a vision. Collin couldn’t help but drool at the sight of her.

“About time the three of you showed up,” the Angel laughed. “Talk about keeping a girl waiting.”

“You…” Cletus stumbled over his words. “You knew we were here?”

“Knew?” The Angel tipped her head in question. A habit she had picked up from a dear… friend. “You’ve been following me for days. Nifty’s collection of wool can only grow so much before a girl gets suspicious.” Mikaela laughed it off as if it was a joke, but Keenie’s head was still very, very sore.

The Cherubs had no answer for her.

“What can I do for you?” With hands perched in her lap, the General inspected the three of them, lazily soaking in their forms as they collectively entered the room.

Wow. Mikaela Morningstar had expected them. Well, duh! Of course! She was God’s General! How could she not have seen them coming? She probably knew about everything: the phone call from Velvette, the orders from Rachel, their banishment from Heaven. She was, after all, an Archangel. Collin still couldn’t comprehend the situation.

“Ms. Morningstar,” Collin began. Did he sound as nervous as he felt? “We have been sent from Heaven to return you to the Seraphim.”

The Angel blinked, but didn’t respond. Her face remained neutral as Collin spoke and even for a few moments after. He wiped his hooves on his pants again. The Cherub was thoroughly drenched in anxious sweat, which, hopefully, no one noticed.

“Why?”

“Why?” Kennie shoved her way forward. “Because you belong there? You’re Mikaela, the General, Heaven’s Archangel. You’ve been gone for over a hundred years doing…”

“God’s work.” Mikaela interrupted the sheep.

“What?” Cletus asked.

The Archangel chuckled. “You didn’t seriously think I just ran away from Heaven on a whim, did you?”

The three Cherubs looked at each other for an answer, but it was the sheep who spoke first. “No, of course not!”

“Thank you, Collin,” Mikaela smiled.

The Cherub’s heart jumped right out of his chest. “You know my name!?”

“Of course,” her eyes softened. “Why wouldn’t I know one of my biggest fans?”

____________________________________________

Yesterday…

“Hello, thank you for calling, C.H.E.R.U.B., how may we bless you today?”

“Hi! I’m calling about a loved one back on Earth who needs some help. It seems he’s lost his way a bit and I’d really rather not see him down here.” You twirled the cord in your hand.

Alastor sat across from you, a cup of tea in hand, one leg crossed over the other as he enjoyed the dyling light of day.

“Of course! Can I get a name?”

“Well, actually… I’m quite protective of him, you see, and I want to know that you are sending your best.” The sweetness in your voice was practically sickening, but it made Alastor chuckle. “I was wondering who would be going. Would it be the three from the television commercial?”

“Cletus, Collin, and Keenie? By golly, no! They don’t work for us anymore.”

“Interesting…” You smiled.

“Can I get the name of the person who needs a blessing?”

“No,” and you hung up the receiver.

Alastor chuckled as he sipped his tea. “You make this look too easy, my doe. If it weren’t for the circumstances, you'd be running the place.”

This place... As in all of existence.

You grabbed your jasmine tea and clanked your cup with his. “How unfortunate the plan is to destroy it all instead.”

____________________________________________

Now...

The Cherub nearly feinted.

The Archangel leaned in, speaking to the sheep directly. “You have to promise to keep everything I tell you a secret. No one can know that I am here.”

Collin blinked the stars from his eyes, “Of course! I would never!”

In a whisper, Mikaela continued, “I’m on a secret mission from God. I can’t go into any detail, naturally…”

“Naturally!” Collin was nodding his head so hard he could have been mistaken for a bobble head.

Mikaela leaned in a whispered, “... I’m here to find Roo.”

Collin stopped nodding. “Roo?”

“Roo.” Mikaela repeated, as if that answered all of their questions.

“Wait!” Cletus interrupted once more. “You’re telling us that you are supposed to be here? Cavorting with demons!”

“Shhh,” Mikaela shushed. “Yes.”

Keenie scratched her sore head. “To find someone named Roo?”

“She’s the biggest threat against Heaven. Rumor has it that she’s planning an uprising against God. That’s why he left with me and went into hiding. Couldn’t have him unprotected while I hunted down this rebel.”

Too much information? Nope! Who the fuck is going to believe a bunch of banished Cherubs anyway? They can’t get back to Heaven and no one in Heaven would take them seriously even if they did. Negatives of fucking up with the Upstairs Management but a positive for you.

You could have told them any story that convinced them to leave you alone, and it would be no sweat off your back.

“Oooooooh,” Collin nodded. “That makes so much sense!”

“What!?” Keenie and Cletus echoed each other.

“What?” Mikaela looked confused. “Do you think I’m lying?” She laughed. “Come now. I may be surrounded by demons, but I am still an Angel.”

The three Cherubs blinked at her.

“Oh.” Cletus awkwardly scratched his large head.

Heaven Natives are so naive. Were you this gullible way back when?

The Angel adjusted the tie on her leather bracer. “And the three of you are interfering with my plan.”

“What!?” Collin gawked.

“I can’t exactly have Heaven stalking my every move while I’m on the job,” Mikaela rises from her chair, a towering figure over the tiny Cherubs.

“Right! Right!” Collin was already headed for the door.

Mikaela quickly ushered the other two out, ignoring the look of disbelief on their faces.

“Thanks for understanding, guys.”

And then door shut behind them.

Collin continued to drool in the direction of the doorway.

“Now what?” Keenie asked as she dragged him by the collar down the hall.

“She’s so cool,” Collin gawked.

Cletus smacked his face and rubbed the tension from his temples. “We return to Earth. I need time to think about this and I’m starving. I sure as fudge am not eating anything down here…”

____________________________________________

You shut the door behind them.

“See,” you turned to the shadow at the back of the room. “I told you they’d believe me.”

Alastor materialized from the darkness. With his cane in hand, he snaked the other around your waist and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You tried not to shutter at the contact, tried not to think about your stomach pressing into Al's…

This was not the first time you had run into one of Father’s minions. With Eve’s wild party streak, the two of you didn’t exactly keep a low profile. In fact, it would be odd for the two of you to not run into one of the Ishim or even a few Cherubs while they were on the job. You were recognized - because of course - and typically played it off as a happenstance run in while on a mission.

After all, the rumors in Heaven were that you were on some top secret mission with Father anyway. What were they more likely to believe: you were being a good little “Golden Girl” or playing Armageddon with Eve?

Eve on the other hand, either slept with the Holy invader if able, convinced them she was mortal if they were too young to know her face, or simply disappeared leaving you to fend for yourself.

What a friendship the two of you had…

“I never doubted you, my doe,” the demon mumbled into your hair.

Trying to distract your mind before it decided to focus on the adventure from this morning, you grabbed for Alastor’s lapels to pull him down and…

“Alastor, what’s in your coat pocket?” Your fingers met something hard and boxy.

The demon ignored your question. Instead, from the Void, Alastor pulled a hair clip - a new one. The metal was red, and pointed, with a small “A” pressed into one of the tongs.

“I had Carmilla make it,” the demon holds the clip between the two of you, pushing you back so you are no longer pressed so closely together.

Which greatly helped the nerves.

The red was a perfect match to Alastor’s eyes.

How intentional…

“Thank you,” you reached for it, but he pulled away.

The demon was distracting you, but you allowed it. Your nerves were shot anyway and Alastor felt… off…

“Allow me?” He offered.

Turning towards the mirror above the dresser, Alastor flipped your hair into a bun, clipping it at the back of your head perfectly square with your shoulders.

You stared at the demon’s reflection in the mirror, noting the lack of music playing on his radio, noting the loss of static in his voice. He was nervous…

“Al, everything changes after today. This is where the Endgame plan truly begins.” You tested the waters to see if that was what was bugging him.

“Hmm,” the demon continued to inspect your hair, his mind clearly stuck on something else. Not Armageddon playing his thoughts?

“But,” you turned to him, your back leaning against the dresser. “If I know war, and I do, there is always a lull after a battle. Perhaps, if just for a few days, we get out of here?”

“Oh?”

“I have safe houses in every Ring of Hell and in a few major countries on Earth - including an emergency backup in Heaven if things end up truly terrible… I have an apartment…” God, why were you so nervous? “In France.”

The demon’s eyes sparked.

“It’s in Place de l'Estrapade, not a far walk from the Pont Neuf bridge, just across the way from Jardin du Luxembourg*. I know it’s not Louisiana, but… There’s this adorable bakery in the square that I know you will love and…”

The demon swallowed your words with his lips. “Mes valises sont déjà faites. My bags are already packed.”

Right, why did you ever think Alastor Hartfelt would turn down a trip to France?

Alastor’s shoulder slacked just a bit.

Then it hit you.

It was the after that was bugging him. After the battle that is. He comforted you last night in regards to your qualms with the battle, but funny how facing imminent death felt like an everyday for the Overlord.

But the after made him nervous.

The after…

Fuck, you promised Angel you’d tell Al after.

Your stomach turned itself into knots and threatened to spill all over the carpet. How would you explain that one to the demon?

Fuck.

Did you tell him now that you and Angel went to Wrath? Tell him what happened? Your mouth watered bitterly at the thought that you were lying to him - you had promised no more lies - but were you truly lying? This was for his own good. This was for his protection. If anything happened to Al, it would be your fault.

Your fault.

YoUr FaUlT.

YOUR FAULT.

The air was suddenly sucked from the room.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

“You lovebirds done shackin’ up o’ what?” Angel screamed from the other side of the wall.

“Seriously?” Husk scoffed. “You called me up here for this?”

“What? Come on, Whiskers, you love spendin’ time with me,” Angel teased.

You could practically hear the disbelief on Husk’s face through the door, “I thought you wanted me to help you bring something down, not hold your fuckin’ hand because you’re too scared of the Boss.”

“I ain’t scared of nothin’!” The spider demon protested.

You smiled at Alastor, grateful for the spontaneous distraction. The demon pressed a kiss to your cheek and melted into shadow.

Throwing the door open, both Husk and Angel jumped back in surprise before they realized it was just you.

“Ha!” Angel crosses his arms. “See yous was scared, too!”

“I..!” Husk’s face turns red. “I was scared because she fuckin’ appeared outta nowhere, not because of…”

“Me,” Alastor melted from the floor, appearing behind the two of them.

Angel jumped into you, grabbing onto your arm for support, while Husk remained utterly unphased.

“Yeah, him,” the cat crossed his arms.

You giggled at the sight of the two of them, the laughter breathing life back into your chest.

Just don't think about it... Yeah? Yeah! Don't think about it. Everything is going to be okay! It's fine. Everything is fine!

Taking a deep breath, you planted a smile on your face. “Come on, boys, we have an army to ready.”

You snuck a glance at Alastor, who looked distracted, wholly unaware of the nerves in your belly. Whatever was captivating him, you were thankful for it. It was quite uncharacteristic of him, but then again, you’ve never seen Alastor in the hours leading up to battle.

For whatever reason, you were disappointed in the last few remaining private moments you might possibly have with the demon. Not that you were expecting a big declaration of love from him.

Holy shit, you still hadn’t even told him you love him!

Oh, no, no, no, no.

You put the brakes on.

You’d been so distracted about this morning that you completely forgot about everything from last night! “Al, I need to talk to you-“

“There she is! There’s my little tomatuh!” Rosie had you in a hug so tight one would argue it was a chokehold.

“Rosie, dear! How delightful to see you!” Alastor pressed a kiss to the top of her hand. “Is that a new scarf? It looks astonishing on you darling, absolutely astonishing!”

The Overlord’s eyes shined like stars, “Oh! Al, stop! You flatter me.” Rosie ran a hand through her new purple boa.

“It isn’t flattery if it’s true!” Al came to stand beside you, his hands wrapped around the top of his cane.

The smell of the forest after rain calmed your nerves.

It’s okay. After. You can tell him after because there will be an after.

There will be an after.

Heading down the hall you ignored Angel's worried eyes on you. You ignored Alastor's shadow swirling about your feet with concern. And you ignored Husk's offer for a drink. For you had too many things to focus on right now...

A battle to win...

An identity to keep hidden...

A Human Sinner who still didn't know how you truly felt about him...

And a secret to keep...

Welcome to the Endgame.

____________________________________________

T-1 minute until the portal opens…

“This is it,” you press your forehead into Alastor’s. “Al, I -”

“Shh, my doe. Entre deux cœurs qui s’aiment, nul besoin de paroles,” and then the demon melted into shadow, to find his place atop the Hotel.

Goddamit, the demon switched between French and English so fast you couldn’t keep up half the time.

Charlie appeared next to you, a hand on your shoulder. “You’ll get a chance to tell him.”

You blinked. But how did she…?

“Uh,” Vaggie cut in. “I don’t mean to break up this moment, but we have Angels incoming.” The ex-Exorcist pointed her spear at the sky, where a large portal had cracked through the walls of reality.

Fixing your hood atop your head, you summoned your two short blades from the Void and readied yourself next to the Princess.

On the other side of the portal, you could make out the beautiful golden glow of Heaven. God, you did not miss it.

Two figures stepped through: Adam and Lute.

And then the onslaught began - but not before Alastor summoned his dark shield. The mass of magic covered the Hotel in a dome. Some of the Exorcists made it through, but the less fortunate ones bounced off in a wave of broken bones.

“It’s working!” Charlie screamed.

Until it wasn’t.

With a flick of Adam’s wrist the shield melted and then the exorcists fell through.

It was a dance of a battle. A beautiful pirouette of savagery and desperation, impregnating the air with the stench of golden iron.

You would have found yourself riding the high of battle had you not had Charlie to look after. Yes, Vaggie could well protect her on her own but it was the deal with Lilith that ensured no harm came to the princess.

As the princess shot sparkles you shot daggers. As she sang apologies you delivered death. Constantly you were forced to grab her by her wrist and twirl her from danger. It was hard work, one that captivated all of your attention.

Good. You needed the distraction.

BOOM!

Cherries’ explosions began, the next line of defense before the Exorcists reached Sir Pentious and his battery of cannons.

This was good! Things were looking good!

Fuck you might actually all make it out of this thing.

BAM!

The next thing you knew, you were on the ground, a pain so powerful ripping through your core it blinded every sense, every fiber of your being.

Green light exploded from the scar which cut you from neck to hip, a beacon of agony which temporarily halted the onslaught from Heaven as Human Sinners and Angels alike were forced to shield their eyes. The wall of light shot up into the atmosphere of Hell before dispersing into a rainstorm of sparks that fell upon the whole of Pentagram City.

You felt, rather than saw, hands upon you. The green had burned your retinas, completely blinding you. Your body healed fast, however, but not fast enough to clearly make out the fuzzy grey/red blob shaking your shoulders.

“Come on, kid! Come on! Don’t quit on me!”

The pain numbed your body, but your Angelic blood quickly fought against it. Your fingers and toes tingled as your mind reset itself over and over again. Where are you? What happened? The memory of pain threatened to spill as the ability to breathe found your lungs, as your eyes remembered how to blink.

“Holy Hell, what da fuck was that!?”

“I don’t fucking know, but both Boss and her went down at the same time.”

“What da fuck kind of Voodoo shit did he do ta ‘er?”

You forced your mind to clarity, forced the blurriness into - somewhat - sharper objects. A vague outline of Husk and Angel came into view, along with a background of Exorcist Angels flying overhead. The fighting had resumed despite the interruption.

“Husk?” You mumbled. Grabbing onto the cat’s paw, you slowly pulled yourself into a sitting position. Despite the pain which had surged through your scar, no wound was visible. You hadn’t been struck after all. “What…?”

There was a pull behind your navel - it was weak, oh-so weak.

Alarm bells immediately went off.

Alastor.

Without a thought, you shoved away from the cat demon and shot into the air, not caring that your wings were now on full display for the entire Angelic Army to view. Not caring that the hood Charlie helped make you was now shredded to pieces.

You hit the roof, landing practically on top of the red and black mass crumbled in a heap of blood. Using your black wings, you attempted to shield as much of Alastor as you could.

You couldn’t make out Alastor completely, your vision was still sluggish to return despite you willing your blood to heal as fast as it could, but you could feel him. You could feel his heart beating wildly, feel the pain with every breath, feel the one ounce of panic the Overlord allowed himself to feel in this moment as he watched you take up a defensive fighting stance over his prone form.

The demon was hurt and bad.

Like a panther protecting her wounded mate, you unleashed the full force of your power. Dark and twisted horns grew from your skull as you morphed into your demon form. A spiked tail uncurled from your backside, your fingernails sharpened into claws, and your fangs elongated to a point. The sclera of your eyes flashed black as the rune on your back was unlocked, the text from the Book of Knowledge melting into your hands, forming an exoskeleton of Newtonian fluid that flowed over your appendages.

As your vision healed, the Angel’s stupid helmet sharpened, a look of pure shock reflected in the metal. Adam had his guitar and Alastor’s blood was still fresh as it dripped off the blade.

“Don’t…” Alastor protested, but his sentence was cut off with a cough.

“Mikaela?” Adam’s jaw dropped.

Your only response was a low growl. Pure instinct had kicked in. You were more animal than Angel.

You felt the coldness of Rolf wrap around your ankle, but it was barely a whisper compared to how solid the shadow normally felt. The shadow tugged, threatening to whisk you away from the rooftop, but be it the weakening of Alastor’s magic or your stubbornness, you did not move.

“Holy shit, it is you! How you doing, sister?” The First Man smiled, lowering his sword.

Behind you, you could feel the blood flowing from Alastor’s chest as real and as solid as it would your own. It only added to the panic and anger and desperation you were feeling in this moment.

“Where’s Eve?” The Angel looked around as if the Second Woman might turn the corner at any moment and join the conversation.

“Dead,” you bore your teeth and growled, your voice laced with Alastor’s radio static.

“What?” Adam did a double-take.

You pulled your sword from the Void, your blue fire licking the steel’s surface as small green bouts of static danced its way down your arm and disappeared into the heat. “And you’re next,” you threatened, your voice filled with static.

“Wait,” Adam narrowed his eyes, his pupils darting back and forth between the two of you as he slowly put the pieces together. “Wait. Wait. Wait.” He put up a hand. “You’re defending this loser?”

You growled, your teeth itching to sink into flesh.

Kill him. Kill him. Kill him. Kill him. Kill him. A voice rang in the back of your head.

“Woah, there, sister. We’re on the same fucking team!” Adam had a look of pure terror on his face.

From your crouched position on the ground, you moved forward.

Adam immediately dropped his sword and began backing up. “Listen! Listen! Listen!” He stammered. “Let’s just take a fucking second and talk like bros. Okay?” His laugh was strained. “I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation for why you’re down here defending the scum of existence? Ha, ha. Right?”

Kill him, the voice commanded.

You growled again and attempted to take another step forward, but a clawed hand wrapped around your tail and tugged. Finally, you turned to face Alastor and the sight knocked you out of your bloodthirsty trance.

The demon was pale, a deep gouge sliced right across his chest in an exact mirror image to your injury from Velvette. You felt the anger flee from you then, only to be replaced with pure terror. You met Alastor’s stern eye and the look he shot you stopped you dead in your tracks.

But it was already too late. All of Heaven had seen. Mikaela Morningstar was alive and well in Hell, defending Lucifer’s daughter in a battle against Heaven. You had killed Exorcists. A war was brewing, and you were a part of it.

The demon shuttered out a pained breath, one you felt reverberate through your own chest. You dropped your sword, the steel popping back into the Void before it even made contact with the ground. Falling to your knees before Alastor, you cupped his face in your hands and pressed a soft but shaky kiss to his forehead.

“What, the fuck?” Adam gawked behind you.

Every part of you was screaming to rip the Angel limb from limb, but you fought the instinct, and instead channeled that energy into the connection that had ripped open between you and Alastor. You let your magic flow through your inky fingers and into the demon, willing his heart to beat faster, to slow the blood seeping from his wounds, to staunch the pain in his chest.

Alastor’s eyes fluttered closed as he took a deep breath, already the color returning to his cheeks.

You turned to Adam then, your black sclera burning pure hatred into the Angel’s heart. “I won’t be the one to kill you today, Adam.”

“I am so fucking confused,” the Angel scratched his head.

“Adam!” Charlie appeared atop the rooftop, royally pissed as she hung from the Hotel sign.

And with that, you shadowed the two of you from the rooftop, landing in the only place you could think of to go right now: Alastor’s radio tower.

Atop the balcony, you pulled the clip from your hair and slit open your wrist, dripping a waterfall of golden blood into Alastor’s wounds.

“Stop,” the demon tried to shove your hand away, but he was too weak at this moment to do anything other than lay there and breathe.

Clenching your jaw shut, you didn’t let up until you watched the first stitches of skin begin to form. Jesus Christ, the wound was deep. It had cut through several ribs but, thankfully, had not nicked his heart. Alastor would have been dead before you had even landed on that rooftop had it gone any deeper.

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! You knew! You fucking knew this was going to happen!

A tear fell from your cheek and landed in the mixture of black and gold liquid swirling atop the demon’s chest.

“Stop,” Alastor said more forcefully. The demon wrapped a hand around your wrist, the golden liquid bubbling through his fingers. He pulled you down into him and pressed his forehead into yours. “I’m alright, my doe.”

“This is my fault,” your voice cracked. Green static danced across your skin, your demon form still out in full force. Sucking in a breath, you forced yourself to your feet. Sinking your inky hands into your hair, you paced the floor, your wings dragging behind you.

Alastor’s magic jumped off your form in sparks. Which was impossible but you didn’t have the mental room to even consider why.

Alastor had almost died! He could’ve died! Adam almost killed him!

“My doe,” Alastor attempted to sit up, but the pain from the wound was too much, his body demanding every ounce of power to heal.

“My fault,” you shuttered. “My fault. My fault. My fault!” You bent over the handrail and threw up.

Alastor jumped to his feet then, one hand wrapped around his middle to stop his insides from spilling out. “Mikaela!”

Using his cane for support, the demon forced himself to stand next to you. His red irises bled into your soul, his brow crinkled with worry.

Your entire body was shaking as he wrapped his arms around you. “It was not your fault.”

“We almost lost you,” you mumbled into his coat jacket, drenched in blood.

“We?”

____________________________________________

Somewhere Else in Hell…

“Ha, ha,” Striker plucked the cigar from his mouth and tapped the lit end into the cement lining of the roof.

The imp pulled the rifle to his shoulder and aligned the scope with his eye. “Too easy.”

And pulled the trigger.

____________________________________________

You saw the bullet before you heard it.

BANG!

The metal object soared towards you as if in slow motion, the iconic swirls of Angelic Steel clearly coating its surface.

But the bullet meant for you did not hit its mark.

For Alastor shoved you at the last moment, appearing between you and the shooter.

Red irises met yours, “Mourir d’amour, vivre de haine…”

The bullet met its mark right between Alastor’s eyes.

Dying for love…

“Nooo!”

The demon went down, his cane smacking against the metal balcony in an explosion of green sparks.

You spun, immediately knowing where the bullet originated from. You didn’t care who or what was on the other end. Fuck you didn’t even care why.

Kill, the voice echoed as a blast of dark ink shot out from your hand. Like a wave of a tsunami, the mass collided with the building the shooter was perched atop of, taking out the top twenty floors. You swung down, collapsing the building in on itself in one fell swoop.

Whoever it was - plus the inhabitants of the building - were dead.

“Alastor!” You screamed as you collapsed onto the ground next to him. Dark blood pooled beneath his head. The wound between his eyes steamed with green as his magic desperately fought to heal.

But fought in vein.

You watched as Alastor’s eyes fogged with the veil of death.

“No! No! No!”

And felt his Soul fade from his body.

“Alastor!”

You screamed. You begged. You cried.

“Don’t!”

You even heard yourself begging with God to let him live.

“You promised you wouldn’t leave me again!”

But you could do nothing as his Soul slipped from his body…

“No! Don’t! You can’t!”

… and faded from this world entirely.

“Don’t leave…”

Alastor was dead.

“Don’t leave us…”

____________________________________________

You don’t know how long you lay there.

Minutes?

Hours?

Days?

Years?

Long enough that Alastor had grown cold next to you. Long enough that the blood began to crust against your skin. Long enough that your joints hurt and your body begged to move.

He was gone.

Alastor was gone.

You curled into him, praying somehow your warmth might leech into him and warm his cold body back to life. Praying he’d brush a hand through your hair and tell you everything was going to be alright.

Praying this was just a dream.

Praying that you were the one dead instead.

Praying that you were both dead and this was some sick version of Purgatory Father had concocted for you as a punishment.

“Al…” You mumbled into his jacket, your fingers curling around his lapel as if he would fade beneath your touch entirely.

Too soon. Too fast.

And all your fault.

All your fault…

And then your fingers brushed something hard.

In his jacket, hidden away in a pocket you didn’t know he had, was a small leather box.

Fuck.

No. No. No. No. No.

Sitting up with alarm, you dropped it on the balcony and scooted away.

That better not be what you think it is.

Open it.

You jumped.

A young woman with hair as brown as mud and eyes to match sat across from you. Cross legged, arms folded neatly in her lap as her curls pooled down her back, the girl stared intently at the small leather box.

Open it, she repeated.

You didn’t respond, your mind was too preoccupied with trying to comprehend how this was happening.

It’s a ring, obviously, but you already knew that. You think that’s why he was so distracted today? She motioned to the blood. So distracted he didn’t even notice the fawn growing in your womb. How pathetic…

“Shut up!” You bit, your throat raw from years of crying.

Ouch. Is that anyway to greet an old friend? Oh, wait, sorry. Were we even friends? I mean, you did murder me and all. Did Alastor…

“I said, shut up, Eve!”

Her eyes found the box once more. Do you think he’s an emerald man or a diamond man? Emerald is more classic for the 30s but diamonds! Ugh, I’m just dying to know, aren’t you?

She went for the box, but you were faster. You held it against your heart, “Don’t touch it!”

Eve gasped, Is that why he asked you to take him to Louisiana to visit his Mother!? Awww, he stayed behind to tell his Mom about the ring. How sweet. Too bad she wasn’t actually there. - ya know, being in Heaven and all. But I suppose it’s the thought that counts.

“Why are you here?” The words seeped out from behind clenched teeth.

She smirked. Because you let me out.

You followed her eyes to your hand, still black from the ink. You never sealed the power away after desecrating the building.

Fuck, you were still in your demon form.

You’ve never let me out this long before. Figured it was time to stretch my legs and finally introduce myself. She stood and made her way to you, stretching her limbs as she went. Holding a hand out to you she made to help you stand.

Hello, I’m the Book of Knowledge, but you can call me Eve and we are going to have so much fun together.

You didn’t take her hand.

Your eyes found the dark jacket seeped in blood laying a few feet away.

You went to him, your fingers brushing the curls away from his face. With his eyes closed he looked as if he was sleeping - so peaceful.

Even in death Alastor smiled.

The girl frowned, clearly annoyed that you weren’t giving her your full undivided attention. What about power and chaos, and all that jazz? What about revenge!?

To power and chaos…

Your hand found your belly. “There is no power and chaos without him.” Pressing a kiss to his forehead. You whispered, “I love you, too.”

Wait, so that’s it? Eve threw her hands in the air. The plan is over? The big Endgame we’ve been planning for over one hundred years is just done!?

You stood, “New plan.”

New plan? Eve scrunched her nose. What new plan?

You smiled softly, the dark ink slowly invading your arm, “The one where everyone dies.”

Oh! Oh! Oh! I like that plan. Where do we start?

You turned to the pile of rubble 100 yards away. “Greed.”

*Yes, this is totally where Emily in Paris is shot lol

Annnnnnnd yet another cliff hanger. Come on guys you know me by now. Not everything is as it seems!

Hang in there :)

-> My Fawn & My Shadow: Epilogue

Tagged Hoteliers: (Let me know if you wish to be added!):

@sirens-and-moonflowers @wonderlandangelsposts @saccharine-nectarine @goyablogsstuff @mommymilkers0526 @eris-norwega

@missgirlsstuff @alastor-the-radio-demon @sillywormtrixareforkids

@its-a-dam-blue-brick @cloverresin20 @blue-bird251 @speedycoffeedelight @littlebluefishtail @sawi1987 @mopeyghost

@beelz3bub @fraugwinska @minamilinaqueen @demoarah @diffidentphantom @divineknightmare @animecrazy76 @sleepykittycx @graunta @reath-solia @satansdaughter123 @mysticatto @freshonyourpages @chibistar45 @rapunzelbro

@stephydearestxo

46 notes · View notes

skeedelvee · 2 months ago

Text

Carry On Countdown Day 13 - Lyrics

For this year's COC I've decided to put together daily fic rec lists! Let me know if you find any new favorite reads from these <3

For todays prompt I've gone with fics that prominently feature music and lyrics

All I Ever Wanted was the World by @facewithoutheart

Rated E, 30,152 words

Simon finds himself at the Wank of England, Vauxhall’s infamous gay pub. Ruled by drag queen Baz Pitch aka Tyra Fangs, and staffed by lovable queer misfits, many lost souls have found themselves within its dark walls. But Simon’s not just another lost soul, and Baz is more than the sparkling gowns he wears as armour, and together they may build something better than a place to grab a pint.

Only Creatures by @emeryhall

Rated E, 88,073 words

After Simon dumps Baz in the San Diego airport, Baz tries to be normal about it. He finishes up at LSE, gets an MSt in poetry from Oxford, dates a few men, fucks around. Then he gives up and retires to the Scottish Highlands to cultivate his “Rick Rubin beard” and “Unabomber vibe.” Everything is going just bloody brilliant. That is until Fiona shows up with some unexpected news. Oh yeah, and a porno mag featuring his ex wearing nothing but wings and a tail.

Ride 'Em Cowboy by @wolfywordweaver

Rated M, 9,673 words

Before going on a months long trip to the Midwest with his father for business, Baz is dragged to a strip club on a Cowboy Themed night for one last hurrah by his friends Dev and Niall. It just happens that at the club he meets Simon Snow, a stripper that shakes his world and makes him want things that he think he can't have. Except, maybe Simon wants those things too.

Across the Universe by @sillyunicorn

Rated T, 8,815 words

School has started, but where is Baz? And where did this cat come from? Simon searches for his missing roommate, learns to love the Beatles, and finds comfort in his new furry friend. And maybe, just maybe, what he’s been looking for has been here all along.

Take On Me by @basic-banshee

Rated T, 49,589 words

Baz Pitch is an overworked uni student who -- between his heavy course load and his shifts at his aunt's bookstore -- is stressed all the time. There are expectations on him to follow the family footsteps, and he doesn't want to deal with that right now. His aunt Fiona's bookstore is his one oasis in this (except for on poetry slam nights) and he's glad to have her -- even if she does come with her own brand of crazy. But when Simon Snow, a lit student with a short temper who's trying to distance himself from his bad history, starts working at the bookstore, Baz's life gets infinitely more stressful. Amidst bad poetry slams, author signings, getting locked in storerooms and gaining a (unwanted) roommate, Baz comes to realise that Simon Snow is so much more than he's prepared to take on.

✨Gratuitous self rec✨

In Just Seven Days (And Six Long Nights) I Can Make You a Manahhahaan! by me! @skeedelvee

Rated T, 30,109 words

Reccing this one again because I messed up and forgot I was saving it for this day's prompt before

The Popped Cherry shadow cast is in dire need of a Rocky. Simon Snow has a week to prepare for the role. The person enlisted to help bring him up to snuff? None other than the show's star (and Simon's roommate), Baz Pitch.

If you have any recs that fit the prompt that I've missed, feel free to leave them in the comments! There's plenty of gaps in my reading so there's a good chance I may not have read it

Also I've had a hard time finding if some people are here on Tumblr, so if you know someone who hasn't been tagged, feel free to leave that in the comments as well <3

#coc 2024 #carry on countdown 2024 #skeedelvee #fic recs #carry on rainbow rowell #snowbaz

25 notes · View notes

c-u-c-koo-4-40k · 4 months ago

Text

What do I know about you? - Part 4

Previous Chapter Here!

Next Chapter (Under Construction): Here!

Where it all started! HERE!

Summary: Lullaby finds some common ground with the marine serving as Khopesh’s eyes and ears, and a slightly more positive perspective. Meanwhile Khopesh is facing very Un-Astarte like feelings and does Not enjoy it.

Tags: @felinisnoctis @barn-anon @kit-williams @sleepyfan-blog @bleedingichorhearts @egrets-not-regrets @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @passionofthesith @bispecsual

Authors Notes: Another collaboration with @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan and characters from @kit-williams and @sleepyfan-blog! If I've used one of your boys and forgot to mention it please tell me.

As the familiar sight of his neighborhood and specifically his Lullaby's home comes into view Khopesh feels…uneasy.

There's no active danger. No charging enemy force or xenos threat, the landscape is as peaceful as he'd left it.

So why does he feel like he needs to burst from his armor and Run with every step. His insides feel jumbled and conflicted and his hearts are racing.

Get inside, get the items, get back to Lullaby. He repeats the mantra in his head over and over. Using it to stay focused.

He's so focused on getting Into Lullaby's house and getting this Over with he nearly jumps when movement over to his left catches his attention.

“Khopesh? Is that you?” A salt and pepper head of hair popping up from behind one of the vehicles is what had triggered his reaction. Even if he'd never met this human personally he knows instantly who he is.

Lullaby takes a great deal after their father. The older man notices him and heads over to the Nightlord.

“Ah- there you are Khopesh,” Lullaby’s father says, looking him over. “I’m just heading out to see Lullaby.” He explains.

Khopesh doesn't know how to respond. His body is still thrumming, and he really is Not in any mood for small talk. In fact talking feels like it would exhaust him even more than he already is.

But Lullaby's father continues. He...Just…Keeps…T a l k i n g!

“They mentioned you'd be swinging by to grab a few things. I've got them packed up here so you wouldn't have to dig for em.” The man says gesturing to a box he has on his car. “Said they wanted their rabbit, their blanket and-”

(!) Something suddenly snapped in the Nightlord. (A small snap though, he wasn't going to harm his Lullaby's father.) “I Am Well Aware of what my Lullaby requested.” He cut the older human off with a sharp hand wave. “AND I would have been more than Capable of Digging, these items out.” Khopesh continued with a mild growl in his voice.

“Your interference was unneeded, I will take it from here-” The Nightlord attempted to brush past the human male.

“What did you just say to me?”

Khopesh perked up at the shift in the man's tone. It had been awkward but friendly at first, now it sounded…much less so.

Fine. “I said your Interference was unneeded.” Khopesh replied with a bitter edge to his voice. “I will be gathering and giving these items to My Partner. Your involvement otherwise would only be A Hindrance.”

A new expression settled over the human man's face, and Khopesh felt a strange new emotion twist inside, competing with his pent up frustration.

It almost felt like…guilt. Maybe because that was the specific look Lullaby had given him when they'd told him to back off trying to prove something with the spicy ramen.

Curze's sake they really Did look very much alike. Nature vs nurture who can say?

Khopesh was broken from his train of thought when the father before him spoke up. “Listen, you might be my child's ‘partner’ but that's just it. They were my child first young man!” Oh damn he'd seen this before, his Vada looked a lot like this when he got protective. And more guilt filled his gut with each passing word. “And I know when my child is lying to me.” He affirmed. “So don’t bullshit me! What’s going on with them?”

Khopesh pulls himself together for a moment from the disbelief. Is Lullaby's whole family so bizarrely fearless??

He pulls on his Nightlord intimidation and looms as he frowns down at the older baseline human. Most tend to be nervous around Space Marines- and a lot are openly fearful of Night Lords.

But apparently not in this Family??? The old man (who isn't quite as old as his Vada) squares his shoulders and meets Khopesh's gaze head on. He’s surprised that Lullaby’s father isn’t backing down.

“I can do this All Day.” He huffs, crossing his arms. “So you might as well tell me sooner, rather than later.”

Caught out, flat footed, utterly exhausted and looking into the stone set gaze of a man who reminds him far too much of both his Vada and His Lullaby.

Because he's Lullaby's vada, of course he reminds you of both. An inner voice replies.

And that's when Khopesh realizes… he…he actually Does want to tell him. I mean…he's literally half of what Created his Lullaby, raised his Lullaby, helped make them the person that Khopesh had grown to…care for so much.

However, Khopesh knows that he can’t directly tell the man what is going on.

Partly because the man won’t understand what’s happening to them, and another because even He doesn't fully understand what's happening to them.

Which is terrifying.

He struggles for a moment before saying, “Lullaby is under the Care of Apothecary Hura, so they are safe.” His voice is more dampened, neutral, trying to keep a leash on just how unhappy he is about the situation, and the fact that his Father Anrir and Hura had basically stolen Lullaby from him.

The human man notices the subtle souring of his expression, and the way the younger man’s hands clench and unclench.

Lullaby’s father arches an eyebrow at the young Nightlord , “Is there…. Anything about their situation that has worsened?” That is one of the most pressing concerns that he has.

“...” Khopesh is uncertain as to how to answer that question. There is so much that he doesn’t know and its starting to really bother him.

He’s… he feels so lost at this moment, and Khopesh takes in a slow deep breath as he pulls on his Bond- the urge, the need to check on his Vada and Muti. Safe- alive, happy, healthy. That soothes something deep in his hearts.

“You're just as much in the dark as we are I guess.” Khopesh turns to the man, and he sees a similar expression of worry.

“You know…when that one first had their…fall.” He begins, swallowing as he seems to be mulling over the words. “It was the Worst feeling I had ever known. And I always wondered…if I'd been there. Or maybe if I'd stayed home that day. Maybe…maybe it wouldn't have happened.”

Khopesh listens. In all this happening and stress, he'd actually forgotten the Golden Bastard was a factor. The factor really.

He'd kill him. Skin him. Force feed him his own intestines for this-

“It was hard…going back to work. Not being able to help as much with their recovery. Of course I'll never be able to thank the Astarte therapists and doctors enough. And especially the ones who helped them that day they…They saved my b-bear…” The Baseline begins to choke up a bit.

“But…as odd as it sounds. Having you around it…put my mind at ease.”

Khopesh perked up at that, but he was confused.

“Now don't get me wrong when you First showed up I…won't deny I was pretty uncertain. But then you know what happened?” The man asks Khopesh with a slight mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Lullaby came home, raving about how you'd spooked them. At first they were annoyed. But the more they talked, I could tell they…didn't really mind you popping in from time to time.”

“Talking about how they sassed you. Or managed to not jump at your latest prank. Or even how Cute you looked helping Nancy and Gary or chasing the chickens or trying to handle the feed scoops.”

Khopesh snorted, Astartes shouldn't appreciate being called cute but…it was from his Lullaby so it was Different!

“And…knowing that you were always so close. Basically another set of eyes and one that was more a fixture in the neighborhood, it…helped me. Helped all of us feel…just a little bit safer. That if something bad, like another…fall, were to happen again. My bear bear wouldn't be left without help.” The man finishes, putting a hand on the Night Lords arm. “Thank you for that. Truly. I'm glad you came here and decided to stay.”

Khopesh feels his insides churn again. This time with a mix of sadness, guilt and warmth. Why'd he have to be such a fuckin prick before!? Lullaby's vada didn't deserve that! He decides to put those feelings aside so he can respond. “Thank you…I wish I could…do more.”

“You've done a lot. I know my Bear appreciates you.”

He's…he’s so fucking glad to hear that but F-fuck! Those fucking squirming feelings in his insides are flaring up again. He feels like he's about to…

No. No he can't do that here! He won't!

(!) Then he feels it. Another pull on his bond, a more insistent one this time. His head immediately swivels to his house.

The Baseline human notes his attention shift. “What is it?”

“My Vada and Muti…I need to go check on them.” He states knowing this is undeniable. “But…Lullaby needs their comfort items I can't -!” He feels a bit like he's about to tear his hair out.

“Go.” Khopesh turns to Lullaby's vada. The human Baseline encourages him. “I'll tell Bear you needed to check on your family. And you'll bring the box with you once you're done.” He states picking up the box of items from his car hood so he can hand them to Khopesh. “They'll understand.”

Khopesh looks at the box, then at Lullaby's vada. He's still clearly worried, but he's putting on a warm brave face.

Yes, Lullaby wouldn't fault him for needing to take a family detour but…

Khopesh gently pushes the box back into Lullaby's vada's arms.

They don't Need Him to be the one to deliver these items. “They should get these items as soon as possible.” Khopesh explains to remove the baselines confusion. “Go to them. Tell them I will be there as soon as I can and…Comfort them…while I cannot.”

Lullaby's Vada adjusts his hold on the box and smiles. “Alright. I will. My wife will be there soon too.”

The human man loads the box into his car and starts on his way down the road as Khopesh proceeds in the opposite direction.

He picks up speed and vaults towards the source of his bond. And while he's still uncertain, he appreciates his Lullaby won't be alone for much longer.

_____________________

Claude had sent the request to Anrir and Hura that he be able to speak with Lullaby, in part because access to them had become restricted due to the unknown and unrecorded nature of their bond and their potential for being a Psyker- one of the first recorded that they have heard of.

At least they are letting you see them.

The Medical-talk is confusing- see if Cedric understands their ramblings when you talk to him next time.

Hope you don’t fuck things up for Khopesh and Lullaby further.

Claude is allowed to visit them for a bit, and he’s going to be allowed to talk to them, just keep at least a five pace distance between himself and them. For the next test, he’s not allowed to touch them, for now to see if there is anything that happens or doesn’t happen.

Quick! Say something nice.

At least Lullaby understands what it’s like to be a Cursed Wretch.

Like you are. A Cursed, wretched half broken tool.

Even the absence of something happens could give them new data, or at least another route to take. Or so Claude heard the older space marine mutter- him and Hura talking hypotheticals that make his head hurt.

Claude knocks on the door and hears Lullaby’s voice that bid him to enter, “Hello Lullaby,”

They look so tired.

Your little zap has caused SO much trouble!

What a mess you helped make!

He tries not to be nervous, and rubs his hands against his pants and looks over at them.

“Ah so…” You pose somewhat awkwardly. “You feel anything different happening?”

Claude shakes his head. “No…but I um…”

Your eyebrow raises curiously at the way Claude seems to be fumbling to get his words out.

“I just…I wanted to let you know, that I know what it’s like to be cursed.” Claude means that very sympathetically.

Uh…what? “What do you mean?” You ask, confused, frowning across the room at Claude a little.

Claude reminds you of the words you’d spoken earlier, and his earnest expression as he rubs his chest as he explains how he understands what it’s like to feel so wretched, so cursed, how, “And you feel like everything you touch gets corrupted or perverted. Or like you are a plague upon others- only meant to cause them harm.”

Hopefully Anrir and Hura will remember their limits as a baseline human.

I hope that they can learn to control their powers.

If A psyker cann’t control their powers. Their only use is to die.

You have a sudden realization, like a crashing wave, as you hear some of the words, thoughts and feelings that you'd had, reflected back at them from Claude.

And however right it had felt in the moment to voice those negative thoughts they'd clearly sunk deeper into more than just yourself.

“I…don't think it's healthy to be talking about yourself that way.” You say.

Of course its not healthy.

You aren’t the most stable of Astartes.

I wonder how worried they’d be if they knew about the voices in your head.

Claude's brow furrows in confusion. “I don't understand.”

“Look, I know what I said earlier.” You explain shifting to fully face the young space marine. “I was angry and frustrated and…scared outta my mind that something I don't fully understand could end up hurting the people around me.”

“And while it's fine to be cautious, and to self-reflect, I went too far, letting my meanest inner voice speak. But you know what I'm starting to realize?”

Don’t listen to them!

They’re just a baseline- what do they know about the burdens of Astartes?

“What?” Claude asks tilting his head a little curious to what you are going to say next.

“That inner voice is full of horseshit.” You reply, cheekily. “And if your mean inner voice is telling you Anything like what mine tells me, I'd say it's pretty full of horse shit too.”

Claude doesn't seem fully convinced. “I'm not sure about that…”

You had a feeling Claude's…perspective on this had more history than just your recent outburst.

Sure- they may have a potentially parasitic bond.

At least it’s no where near as deadly as psykery can be.

They don’t understand just how dangerous the warp touched are. Not yet at least.

Guess that meant you had more threads to snip than just your own.

“You remember what Anrir said, right? After I called myself a parasite?” You prompted. “It's a phrase I've heard before, and I stand by it. The most important part of Any tool is how it's used.”

“You, and I have Tools, that others don't. And sure we Could do bad things. A brick can smash a window, but that same brick can also help build a house.” You continue. “And if I'm going to be a parasite, then you better damn Bet that I'm gonna be a useful parasite. A parasite that helps.” You declare.

Claude actually cracks a smile. “Parasites can indeed be important to ecosystems.”

So long as they are not overeager.

So long as the parasites don’t take over the ecosystem.

“And so can your so-called ‘curses’.” You insist. “Without your powers we'd still be in the dark about mine.”

Claude seems surprised, before he mumbles a bit. “If I didn't have psychery you wouldn't be stuck here…”

“Maybe, but that also means I could've accidentally harmed Khopesh's bond without knowing, or zapped someone else who…would not have reacted as well to what's going on with me.” You counter. “As scary as this all is, I'm glad I'm in a place where people can help me. I wouldn't have that without your zap.”

Someone far worse and cruel could have zapped them.

Like a Chaos Astartes. That would have been so much worse.

The teal in Claude's eyes flares up for a moment. “Ah…I guess that is true.”

“I mean it Claude. I…I'm very grateful that you're helping me. And I'm glad You helped me discover this. Rather than something more…traumatic happening.”

Now you see a slight blush appear on the space marine's face. “Ah…you're welcome? I still feel a little bad though…for all This, happening…”

You grin wryly. “Tell you what? You can make it up to me.”

Here comes the other shoe.

The catch twenty two, or so others on Ancient Terra call it.

I wonder what they want?

Claude perks up. “What is it? What can I do to help?”

“I'm only gonna ask one thing. And so I'm not a hypocrite, I'll agree to it as well.” You say. “I don't want you calling yourself cursed, or a blight, or Any of that negative self talk around your powers. And as long as you do. I'll do the same. Deal?”

Claude flushes, his nose and ears and cheeks going bright pink, “I…I will try not to say that about myself, so long as you do, Lullaby.”

You nod approvingly. “Good. Then it's settled. By the way, is the touch timer up?” You ask, genuinely curious but also for another reason.

Claude thinks to himself for a moment. “I think it has been long enough.”

You shrugged. “Good.” You hopped off the hospital bed, and strode towards Claude. Before the Primaris could question your actions you opened up your arms, lifting them. “You okay with a hug or should I pretend I meant to just stretch my arms…save us the awkwardness?”

Well Claude hadn't been expecting that but…hugs Were nice. Plus if it made Lullaby more comfortable with their situation it would fall under the category of caring for them while Khopesh was unable.

“I…am amenable to that.” Claude replied, he leaned down.

Claude, though firmly introverted, had received Some physical affection in his troubled lifetime. Mostly as an aspirant from his close battle brothers. And ironically with his Primaris brother's busy schedules these days he received quite a bit from Khopesh and the other Night Lords.

Anrir was a good shoulder to lean on. Karlsor would allow it if he was psychery drained though he pretended not to enjoy it. Khopesh naturally enjoyed spooking him with a sudden grab out of nowhere, sometimes lifting him up for a moment. Which was annoying, but the embrace itself wasn't Terrible and the hair ruffling that followed was…a bit childish but not unwelcome. Ghosk would also hair ruffle from time to time.

But admittedly…being hugged by a Baseline was Far different. He thought, as Lullaby's much smaller body fit into his. And he was careful not to exert too much force.

For one they were Warm! Very Warm! Almost too much so. And despite picking up the scent of the sterile hospital environment there was a well set scent underneath that reminded him of soil baked under the sun and animals.

He could always hear their heartbeat, but he also felt it now. And he felt them squeeze him firmly with their much weaker arms. It was a combination of soothing sensations Claude could easily see himself falling asleep to.

No wonder Khopesh called them Lullaby.

They pulled back after the firm but brief embrace. And naturally Claude allowed them. He did miss the warmth a bit. Maybe it was a Nightlord or Raven (or Teal) thing to run colder. He didn't notice large temperature differences with most other Astartes of those kinds.

Knock knock knock

The knock at the door behind you caused both of you to turn your heads.

“Who is it?” You ask.

“It's Apothecary Hura dear. May I come in? We've received your items and some guests are here to see you.”

Your heart leaps into your throat. Is Khopesh back? Will you get to see him now? You feel excitement mixed with churning anxiety rocket up your body for a moment.

But wait guest(s)? Plural? “Ah please come on in!” You say hurriedly and naturally the Death Guard on the other side opens the door.

Instead of a 8 to 9ft tall pale ghoulishly handsome Nightlord…your heart leaps again to see two Very familiar faces standing beside Hura with a box.

“MOM! DAD!” You bolt to your parents without thinking.

“Lullybird!” “Bear bear!” They respond almost in unison. Your dad holds out the box to you.

“I ran into that ‘friend’ you'd sent to get these things.” He winks cheekily at you which causes you to blush. “He had to go check on Nancy and Gary, so he sent me on my way so you could have these sooner.”

“Your father told me, your ‘friend’ would also be along later, after he made sure Nancy and Gary were alright.” Your mother supplied.

Oh…well, while you were disappointed you wouldn't be able to see Khopesh for a bit longer, you couldn't blame him for needing to check on his folks.

I mean how could you? Right now you had your own parents in front of you (talking about knowing your special ‘friend’. Wait does that mean they know you and Khopesh are- You know what you're not gonna think about that right now.) and wanted to hug them so tight and Never let go. Speaking of which…

You take the box properly but quickly set it aside, before snagging both your parents into an embrace, one arm each. “I'm…I'm so happy to see you both you have N-no Idea!” You felt like crying. You felt like laughing. But you settled on sniffling a bit and hugging your loved ones close.

“Oh Lullybird.” Your mother cooed, wrapping her own arms around you, returning your firm embrace.

“We're here now Bear,” You father reassured, stroking your back like he'd done when he soothed you as a baby.

Meanwhile Claude and Hura watch the tender scene. Hura feels both content satisfaction and a bit of longing. He could imagine a similar scene playing out with his Mouse if they could ever produce offspring…unlikely as that is to be possible with his chaos genes.

Claude also feels happy. Glad to see Lullaby looking happier than they had been. (And also secretly a Little jealous that he'd not had a normal family experience.)

You do pull back eventually and ask, “How much have Hura and Anrir filled you in?”

Your mother and father exchange a look. “Apothecary Hura explained the basics once we were out of the main areas. Something about a mutated bond?” Your mother replies.

You nodded. “Yeah…something's changed about it. The Astartes here want to make sure the change isn't harmful.” You add, then turn back towards Claude. “Claude here's the one who found out about it. Without him it might've gone on and caused problems later.” You say, gesturing to the Primaris in the room behind you.

Claude feels an embarrassed blush creep up his face at being put on the spot. “Ah it was r-really more of an accident.”

Lullaby's mother approaches him, “Accident or not you helped our baby. Thank you so…So much young man.” She gestures for him to lower his face and she gives him a quick motherly smooch on the cheek.

Lullaby's father approaches next. “My wife is correct. You've done us a great service son. You have no idea how much we owe you.” The gentleman holds out his hand and though Claude is still surprised from the cheek kiss, he remembers this time to hold out his own hand.

So it's still surprising when the older baseline pulls him (more like pulls himself towards Claude but still) into a quick one armed hug while also still doing the handshake and Holy Stars Lullaby's father runs even hotter than they do.

His hand is starting to sweat, and he Is getting a bit overwhelmed but thankfully the contact is short.

He now understands where Lullaby gets it from. But pushing that aside the family continues to talk.

“So what comes next?”

“Apothecary Anrir and Hura are testing me…testing It rather. Seeing how it works.” You explain. “They haven't found anything super harmful about it…yet. What comes next depends on their best ideas on where to go.”

“Indeed.” An old regal voice agrees, you see Claude perk up out of your peripheral vision and You recognize it too. Anrir steps through the threshold, How had you not noticed him behind Hura??

He addresses your parents. “Greetings, I am Apothecary Anrir, of the Nightlords.”

Your parents react…a little less warmly to Anrir then they did to Claude. But they do respond Politely at least. “Ah hello.” “Hello sir.”

“Your dear child is correct. This…phenomenon is the first of its kind any of us have witnessed.” Anrir continues. “Their bond, went through the normal path of withering and desiccation after it was…rejected.” Anrir explained, and seemed to feel the discomfort slightly spike in the room when referring to your…bond breaking. “It was simply doing so at a much slower rate than normal, however, Now it has taken on a completely new form. And with new side effects.”

“What are the side effects?” Your mother asks.

Anrir pauses, seemingly thinking over his next words. But rather than an explanation, he puts forth an offer. “I believe a demonstration would be most appropriate to explain the Nature of this mutation. If you would all follow me.”

Hura seems confused by Anrir's actions and stops the Nightlord. They have an exchange in Gothic. Hura seems upset for a moment, but after a few back and forth retorts he sighs…Heavily, and steps to the side.

You stay where you are. “What do you mean a demonstration?” You pry, preferring not to be led by the nose. Even by someone who Is and Has been helping you.

Anrir smiles. “You said you wanted to be a Useful Parasite did you not? A parasite that helps?” He presents your own words back at you.

I mean are you really surprised the solitary room has surveillance? They'd have to be watching and listening for that to work but you still feel embarrassed.

Anrir continues. “I believe an opportunity has presented itself so that we may see if that is possible. Of course your parents and Claude may accompany you, just not Inside the testing room.”

You feel even more in the lurch, but… “You think…I can help someone. Right now?” You ask, half incredulous, half hopeful.

Anrir nods. “Indeed I do but of course…as a medical professional I can only present Options, I cannot Force you to undergo any tests.”

Your parents look to you for your reaction. You have a feeling with Anrir that line about force is just Slightly bullshit. But…you also Do want to help. You want to Understand.

You want to be useful.

You square your shoulders, and stride up to Anrir. “Show me how I can help.”

The Nightlord smiles in a way that you think is meant to be reassuring but comes off unsettling…or maybe that's your nerves distorting your view.

“Excellent, now without further delay.” He responds, giving a slightly smug look towards Hura. “If you would all follow me.”

_____________________

Slam! The door to the house shook as Khopesh bolted inside, much like earlier.

Though instead of delight and excitement he was filled with dread and anticipation.

He scanned his eyes around as if he was scoping a battle ground quickly; side door, living room, step over barking chihuahuas, kitchen, Muti shuffling through mail…

“MUTI!” Khopesh called out, a bit louder than he intended which caused his Muti to startle a bit.

“Oh hey Baby what's-EEP!” The older southern woman didn't have time to finish her statement as Khopesh crossed the distance in a second. Quickly checking her for any injuries with eyes and hands like he would an ally in battle.

But...Nothing, nothing was wrong. He came here for Nothing! Khopesh felt his hands come up and clench into his long dark hair.

It wasn't nothing you felt your bond react. It could have waited till after you checked on Lullaby. Lullaby has Their vada and muti by now they don't Need you. Is Lullaby suddenly more important than your bond? You can love both! THEY'LL BE TAKEN AND IT’S ALL YOUR FAU-

“Baby?” Khopesh breaks from his spiraling, when his Muti puts a soft hand on his face. He realizes his long nails were digging into his scalp hard enough that it probably left some shallow cuts.

He looks into his Muti's eyes. He sees her warmth, the love he'd been denied all his existence, finally willingly given which is what led him to stay in the first place. “What's wrong? You know you can tell me baby.”

After everything…the pain…the stress…the uncertainty…he couldn't hold it anymore.

Khopesh breaks.

The proud, frightening, cocky, self assured shock trooper of the imperium collapses to his knees, wrapping his arms around the mortal woman's waist and Weeps.

“Ooooh, com'ere sweetie,” Nancy cooed, still confused but easily switching into comfort mode. Her large adopted son was Clearly dealing with something he had no idea how to cope with. Which is somewhat concerning, given how capable her Khopesh is normally. But she'd weather it with him regardless. “Let it all out baby.” She gently strokes his hair to his back as Khopesh continues to sob.

“There there, do you wanna talk about it?”

Khopesh sniffs and hiccups, shaking his head as he continues to cry into Nancy's shoulder. “I-I c-can't! I can't tell you!”

Before Nancy can ask why Khopesh continues. “Nothing is going the way it should be! Why is everything going wrong!”

“Can you…explain what's going wrong?” Nancy asks tentatively.

Khopesh's head shakes again. “I…I can't tell you…everything in detail.”

“Then tell me what you can, my son,” Nancy says gently petting her son’s hair, holding him close to her as he sobs and breaks down.

And so Khopesh does; carefully omitting the full nature of the classified information. He tells his Muti about how Lullaby and him had Finally gotten together.

“About time. I was worried I'd lose the bet.” His mother chuckled as his tremors and sobbing eased.

He told her about how they'd spent the day and Night together (not in detail thank God), how they'd shared their first meal together, how everything felt so…So Good.

And then how it all came crashing down. “Now they have to stay at the base. I cannot Touch them. I cannot Comfort them. I'm…” And that's when it hits, the full realization of the fear that's been eating him alive. “I'm terrified they'll be taken from me and I'll never see them Again!”

Just like psychers had been in his days serving the imperium.

That bleak set of memories was interrupted by his muti gently brushing her fingers through his hair. He turned his gaze to the mortal woman who held so much of his heart. While another piece of it sat where he couldn't reach it.

“Life is never just an easy ride down the hill. And that's especially true when you love somethin or someone a whole heck of a lot.” Nancy exposits gently. “But as long as you both take care of each other, you can weather any storm that comes,” Nancy says after listening to what he says.

Khopesh understands what his Muti is saying. He hopes she can give him more clarity on other things too. He wipes his face free of tears and asks, “How did you and Vada meet, Muti?”

Nancy smiles, as she recalls when she first met her husband, “Well I first met him when we were both at college.”

“I remember how fiery you were,” His Vada suddenly walks into the kitchen chiming in. He must have overheard their conversation and was letting them work through some of it before joining. “The sass you had!”

“Oh- like you didn’t give as good as you got, Mister!” Nancy retorts, a faux-stern look on her face.

“I remember, when we lived in separate apartments, on the same floor.” His Vada says, “And you started cooking your Pot Roast- god, everyone on the floor could smell how good it was. So I wiped up a batch of quick-biscuits and knocked on your door, a hot plate of biscuits in hand, and hope in my heart.”

“Ah- I remember that,” Nancy replied fondly, pressing a kiss to her husband’s face. “And we kept trading food. I remember that smoked pork you gave me half a pound of it.”

“And you turned it into hot bagel sandwiches and gave me the tupperware container back with the bagel sandwich,” His vada replies with a dreamy sigh, “Gods, I kept trying to get better at cooking to share with you, just to see how you’d turn it into something better and we’d share the food together.”

Khopesh marvels at the sweetness before him, but part of him is also confused. “Wait…so neither of you promised the other protection or shelter in exchange for company?”

Both his Vada and Muti give him a quite confused look. “Ah…no son. Can't say I ever did that.” Gary replies, scratching the back of his neck. “I Did give you my umbrella that one time you were running late for class I think. Whatever happened to it by the way?”

“Oooh ah…when the rain stopped I think I…accidentally left it inside one of the classrooms.” Nancy replied sheepishly.

“Nanc!” Gary gasps with mock disbelief.

“I wasn't used to carrying one around! Gar gar!”

Khopesh looks on the scene and feels a…bit better- that he hasn’t made any major missteps that would fuck up his chances with Lullaby. And he relaxes a little. He had listened to the stories that his parents had shared about their life together- and how they had built it together. It makes him feel… warm. Soft? In a way that he struggles to identify. It wasn’t a bad feeling though. Just- warm all over.

And he is firm in his conviction now. He wants to share that warmth with his Lullaby. Khopesh gives his Vada and Muti a hug, “I’m going to return later.”

“We’ll be here,” They both say giving him hugs, one pressing a kiss on each side of his face.

_____________________

Anrir, with a still hesitant looking Hura following after, moves smoothly along the hallway. Followed by you, your parents, and Claude. Claude looks at you with a concerned, and confused expression on his face as he follows after them, curious to see what the next test was, and he hadn’t been told he couldn’t watch. Not by the Apothecaries, nor by you.

Claude’s head snaps up and he shifts you and your parents behind him protectively, as he hears the sound of a thrashing, howling marine in agony. You clamber to see what's causing the noise and gasp when your peeking around Claude’s large form reveals a familiar marine beyond the glass of an operating room.

He's even still dressed in the smart dark green uniform you'd seen him in not 24 hours ago.

“Dear God,” Your mother mumbles in horror. “What on earth?” Your father says in a similar tone.

“Pyrus?” You murmur confused, “but just hours ago, he was Fine!?”

“What’s wrong with him?” Claude asks in alarm.

Anrir turns to look at them, a neutral- yet expectant look on his face as he explains the situation, “Pyrus was struck by an Intense bond.”

“Oh no,” Claude murmurs with a wince, those bonds can drive a Brother or cousin mad if they aren’t careful.

“The human Rejected him,” Hura continues to say as he heads over to the window of the suffering Salamander, who keeps sobbing, and writhing in the bed. Trapped and blubbering in a mixture of High Gothic and Nocturna.

“This could kill him, if something isn’t done about it,” Claude says, teal and black eyes wide with concern. He doesn’t want his friend to suffer a horrific death. “Or something worse.”

“Normally,” Anrir says, “We would have to wait out and hope that the bond breaking isn't strong enough to strangle the life out of Pyrus- and bleed his soul into… the afterlife.”

“It is not the most common thing, normally the way an intense bond kills is the spiritual strangling causing the marine to act erratic and eventually injure themselves fatally. But sometimes the bond itself back firing is enough to kill.” Hura explains as he moves, giving you a less obstructed view.

Even Pyrus's head and jaw is restrained, probably to keep him from biting his own tongue. The sight and thought makes you nauseous.

“But…with the odd mutation You have my dear, You might be able to help Pyrus,” Anrir says looking towards you with a curious, expectant expression on his face, “Of course- it’s your choice on what you decide you want to do.”

You look at the suffering marine again, but your mind is already made, despite your parents unsure muttering. “It's worth a shot.” You say, simple but firm. Poor Pyrus- he’s clearly in a lot of pain, and you wanted a way to help.

“Are you Sure Lullybird?” Your mother asks. Always the more overprotective of your two parents.

You turn to her and give a small smile. “I want to understand this…part of me. And I want to help.” You nodded.

“There will also be three Astartes in the room supervising; Myself, Apothecary Hura and Karlsor.”

You father nods. “Alright…but If you let my child get hurt…”

Anrir isn't offended, he smiles as he replies. “I know Exactly what you would try to do to me. I would do the same.”

“Oh hohoho there will be no Try,” Your mother assures. “We Will, make it happen.”

Your smile turns wry. “I'd believe her if I were you, Doc.”

While you and Anrir discuss how the entry and application of your abilities will work, a message comes to Claude's vox. The young marine glances down.

“What is it?” Hura asks in Gothic.

Claude responds in the same, understanding the unspoken request. “It's Khopesh, he's just returned.”

“I’m going to speak with Khopesh,” Hura says still in Gothic as he leaves the room, he doesn’t approve of using a Baseline for something so potentially dangerous.

Besides, with so many unknowns with what they don’t know about what Lullaby can do, it worries him that this could go poorly. Hura finds Khopesh, who looked a little more steady when he’d last talked to the younger Space Marine.

“Khopesh,” He calls out, “I need to speak with you privately.”

“Of course, Hura,” Khopesh says. “What’s going on?”

After they get somewhere private Hura explains, “Lullaby is being led to a room with an Astarte who’s Intense Bond was recently Rejected.”

“You mean a dangerous Astarte,” Khopesh amends, he’s somewhat appalled that Hura is telling him this -that he’s allowing this. “What if the Astarte hurts them!?”

“I didn’t want to do this test,” Hura says, “But Anrir insisted that we ask Lullaby if they were willing to help or not.”

“And they wanted to help,” Khopesh says, slumping a little.

“Yes.” Hura replies.

“Which room is my Lullaby in?” Khopesh asks of Hura, a scowl on his face.

Hura pauses, but tells him which room Pyrus is in. He sent a message to Anrir- who sent a message to Cedric. Khopesh is close to the room, when Cedric blocks him, as Hura, Anrir, Karlsor and Lullaby have just entered the room with Pyrus.

“Khopesh!” Your parents seem surprised to see the Nightlord suddenly appear.

And to see him look so furious and determined.

“Wait,” Cedric calls out to Khopesh and body blocks him from the door, “the treatment has started- and it might not be a good idea for you to go into the room until Karlsor and Anrir or Hura say it’s safe for you to go into it.”

“It will not be safe for Any of you, (except my Lullaby's family and Claude), if you do not Let Me Through!” Khopesh snarls. “If Lullaby wants to do this, Fine. But I will not take being unable to help them lying down!”

“I'm under orders to not let Anyone else into the room. If I have to, I Will sedate you!” Cedric replies. “You're helping more being out Here as an extra line of defense.”

While Cedric deals with a very protective Nightlord, you (unaware of Khopesh's return) stare down at the thrashing Marine- he looks to be in a lot of pain, you…don’t know what to do.

You turn to Anrir who is also having Karlsor prepare for a warp examination of what’s going on.

“Do I just…touch him- Ah!” You ask them to recoil as another fit of thrashing occurs.

Hura tries to stabilize the movements, while Anrir responds. “Just do Exactly what you've done before.” He says, he then puts a hand on your shoulder again. “And remember, We are With You.”

Looking into those dark eyes you actually feel comforted. So you take a deep breath, square your shoulders, and step to the table again. You decide Pyrus's shoulder or arm would be a good option. Hand holding could get your fingers crushed, and the face could get them bitten off.

Gently, as the downed marine huffs quick pained breaths with large tear tracks still marking his face, you lay your hands on Pyrus's huge bare forearm and try to get him to talk.

“Woah, there big fella it's…it's okay. It's going to be okay. Woah now….” Okay you're talking to him like you would a horse, but he seems to be hearing you.

Meanwhile Karlsor watches the way the mycelium tendrils start to curl onto Pyrus. Just like with Hura they beeline for the vines, and start to sap at the ragged edge of the broken Intense bond. Pyrus is still overwhelmed and in pain. He looks up at you and chokes out in the local language, “I… am sorry that you have to see me like this.”

You take a moment to respond. “You shouldn't feel ashamed of something that isn’t your fault.”

Pyrus responds, shaking his head a little, as tears fall down his face, “but it was though.”

“What do you mean?” You ask, trying to keep him talking but also legitimately curious.

“I was too abrupt, too brash.” Pyrus replies, his voice breaking a little, as tears fall freely down his face, as he whispers in shame, “I chased my potential bond away, this pain must be my punishment.”

You didn't agree. “Being rejected…it hurts. But it does Not mean you were too bad…or even too Good. It just Is.” You object, shaking your head a little as you take in a deep breath and continue to speak, “I don't know why your bonded did what they did but…I know that it doesn't mean You are any lesser. And I Know for a fact no one deserves to go through this.”

As they speak these words, Pyrus seems to calm down, and the agonizing, soul deep pain that is tearing him apart slowly eases. The words that you have spoken, ring something strong and deep within both of you.

Karlsor watches as the strangling vines and thorns that were carving into Pyrus and having his soul bleed and suffocate were slowly shrinking and withering, releasing their grasp on Pyrus until they resemble a more normal broken bond.

As that happens, he sees that Lullaby's mutated bond in turn grows a little brighter with the addition of the power it just absorbed.

You still can't see Any of this happening but you Do notice a sudden uptick in your energy; like getting a direct injection of caffeine. Are your hands trembling? You're pretty sure they're trembling.

Anrir calls out, “Lullaby, please back away from Pyrus- so I can examine him.”

You nod and step back. You feel- really good. You'd been tired and kinda numb before, but now you feel like you can do almost anything! Anrir checks over and Pyrus tells him, “Your vitals are back to normal. How do you feel?”

Pyrus pauses and takes stock of himself and licks his lips and, “I still feel emotionally drained but no longer in agony.”

“That’s a lot better than you were before,” Anrir says pleased.

“Yes! That's amazing!” You cheer, pumping your fist like you just won a war!

Anrir turns to look at them, eyeing them carefully and asks them, “How do you feel?”

“I feel…pretty fricken awesome! I mean!! I just helped save somebody's life! Also I feel like running, or dancing to music or just going outside and doing cartwheels on the lawn Also can somebody stop my hands from shaking, cause they're Really shaking-”, You take in a deep breath and closes their eyes as you take stock of yourself and say with a note surprise, “I also feel…good. Hopeful. I think what I'm feeling is Hopeful. That's good right?” You ask, mostly joking.

Anrir nods. “That is most certainly a Good thing.” You smile.

Before the room can settle into full content, there's a knock on the door. Hura peaks out and a pleased expression appears on his face as he calls out, “Pyrus? You have a visitor.”

“Oh? Let them in,” Pyrus says as he shifts a little in the med bed, unfortunately, still tied down as he looks at the door to see who it was. His eyes widen as he recognizes the human who’s in the doorway looking painfully self conscious.

“Ah…hello,” They address those in the room they hadn't met including you. “My name is Saytr. I…called emergency services when Pyrus collapsed.”

Wait does that mean this human was. Oh…Oooooh…

Saytr turns more fully to Pyrus and addresses him. “I…wanted to say…I'm sorry. I got scared. When you first approached me for a-a Bond.”

Pyrus winces and looks down and away from them at that, he hadn’t meant to scare them like that. Satyr speaks up again, “I've been thinking over my decision. And- when I saw that you collapsed. You looked so- badly hurt. I…. I realized that I’d let my fear make the decision for me.”

Pyrus peers up at them, his ember red eyes sparkling with fragile hope and caution at the same time. Satyr comes into the room and paces a little bit as they take in a deep breath and says, “I … want to get to know you Pyrus… maybe just save what was essentially a marriage proposal for after we get to know each other, yeah?”

Pyrus gives them a big, bright smile and nods, “I can do that. I really do want to get to know you.”

Karlsor can’t help but groan a little as blood trickles down his nose and eyes. He’s got a massive fucking headache. As he’s been using Warp Sight for far too often. Also this sappy fucking bull shit is making him want to throw up.

Anrir turns to his fellow Night Lord, “Karlsor- look at the two newly Bonded, well, Rebonded.”

“I’m really fucking tired, Anrir!” Karlsor snaps, “And bleeding, and headachy.”

“Do it,” Anrir orders, his voice deepening.

“Fucking- fine,” Karlsor hisses, and switches on his Sight and sways dangerously, as he leans against a the far wall. “The bond has come back- all glowing with sparking plant life and fewer thorns.”

Wait a minute. “Karlsor! Say that again.” You demand striding up to the Nightlord with the bleeding nose.

He looks at you incredulously as he's leaned down due to exhaustion. “The bond looks all flowery and shit?”

You feel yourself buzzing! “Do you know what this means!?” You ask excitedly, and impulsively grabbing Karlsor's face with both hands. (Which he surprisingly doesn't bite you for but maybe he's just too taken aback you're being bold enough to grab his face.) “It means even if I Can sap a Bond, it can come back! I don’t have to worry about hurting the Bond that Khopesh already has with his Vada and Muti! I can actually Touch him!” You release Karlsor's face and immediately snag him in a hug around the waist.

“H-hey! QUIT It Would ya-” Who is still on the back foot, and not sure how to handle your burst of energy.

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you! I gotta go find Khopesh!” You declare, releasing a still Very confused Karlsor. “Hang on sweetness! I'm comin for ya!” You charge out the door like a soldier on a mission from God!

You bolt out the door and start sprinting down the hallway, firmly intending to run! Run! Run! Run! RUN! AND FIND YOUR KHOPE-OOf!

You almost fall ass over teakettle as a firm forearm? Came into your path, and damn near knocked the wind out of you. You see the pale color with blue viens and immediately assume it's Claude.

“Claude lemme go! I gotta go find Khopesh and tell him everything's alright!”

“Um…Lullaby?” You whip your head around at the familiar voice…that Wasn't Claude.

Long dark hair? Check.

Scar across the mouth? Check

Mirthful (if a bit tired and unsure) twinkling dark eyes?

Check!

“Khopesh!” You crow joyfully, shifting so you can pull your Nightlord into a tight embrace.

“Oh! Lullaby! My Lullaby!” He returns full of relief and delight and you feel your own delight skyrocket when he pulls you close and you feel his roaring purrs start up.

You nuzzle and snuggle and press quick sweet kisses to the side of Khopesh's face and his lips in between saying,“I missed you! I missed you So Much!”

You put your hands to the sides of Khopesh's face as he lifts you, holding you up around the waist. “My bond isn't dangerous! I can touch you! I can touch you!” You cry out with joy. Then another realization, with your voice momentarily taking on a Slight sultry edge. “And I can Love you up…as much as you want me to…”

Khopesh's beautiful face takes on a blush that makes your heart Melt. But he also looks a biiiit embarrassed.

And you realize why when you look past Khopesh's head…and see your parents and Claude looking at your and Khopesh's -ahem- Affectionate exchange.

Well if they didn't know already, they sure do now…shit.

“Oh ah…Hi mom…dad.” You greet your parents. “So ah…the test went…pretty well.” Khopesh gently sets you down, but keeps an arm around you.

You understand. You don't want to lessen the contact between the two of you right now. You have your arm resting on his lower back.

“So…you two Really are?” Your mother poses, and you feel a small amount of traitorous Shame creeping into your gut.

But after Everything you've been through, you are Not letting Khopesh slip away. “I'm happy mom. He makes me happy.” You affirm, looking into Khopesh's dark eyes, before meeting your parents' gaze.

Your father seems to be waiting on your mother's response, he wraps his arm around her shoulders.

She sighs, and leans into your father's touch, before opening her eyes again.

“Alright.” She finally says.

“Alright?”

“Alright.” She nods. “If he makes you happy, and treats you well…I have nothing to say.”

“...Mom!” You cry with happiness reaching out and leaving Khopesh for just a moment. So you can hug your parents tightly.

Khopesh misses your touch, but he can be patient; especially for this.

“But if he hurts you I will Kill him, and dump his body in the fields.” Your mother adds.

“Mom!” You reply, with only half shock.

“You'd better trust her Bear.” Your dad replies with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Oh trust me I do.” You assure your father, before returning to Khopesh's embrace.

Claude watches the tender moment between all four of you with a smile, as Anrir, Hura and Karlsor exit the testing room.

“Oh fuckin Greeeeeat, they're back together.” Karlsor grouses, as he adjusts his shades.

A look of confusion passes over Claude's face. “Are you not glad we achieved a decent outcome?” He asks the older Nightlord.

Karlsor groans. “Tch, yeah sure I'm fuckin glad or whatever. Woo-hoo everybody's happy and in fuckin Love! But do they have to be so fuckin saccharine about it??”

Claude smiles awkwardly. “Oh I don't know, I find it rather cute.”

Karlsor looks back at the happy little family and his lovesick battle brother. “Yeah…whatever, at least my headache's fuckin died down.”

“Language, Karlsor.”

“Ack!” Karlsor yelped as Anrir suddenly joined the conversation him, and Claude were having. “Fuckin! … I'm not gonna finish that sentence.” Karlsor decides as Anrir gives him a Look.

Anrir strides to You and your family. You note how Khopesh's arm becomes just Slightly tighter upon seeing the Nightlord Apothecary.

“Anrir,” Khopesh says, not full of vitriol this time but…not entirely friendly either.

Anrir acknowledges his son. “Khopesh…I am glad to see you have returned.”

Khopesh's grip doesn't lessen. “My Lullaby has told me their bond is not dangerous.”

“Not Quite.” Anrir responds. “But at this time it doesn't appear to pose a permanent threat to any bonds.” Anrir clarifies. “However…”

You suck in a breath, gripping Khopesh back.

“I believe this phenomenon will require further study. In fact, I believe Lullaby may be able to learn to Harness this ability, so they can control it. Rather than simply using it passively through touch.” Anrir explains.

Well…that doesn't sound too bad. But Khopesh doesn't relax.

“And this control…how will they be taught to achieve it?” He asks, tamping down on a growl in his throat.

Anrir straightens his posture. “As any psychery inclined battle brother would be.” He says. “They will be monitored and trained by limited and trusted individuals Here at Gannett Point.”

“Oh, OoOoh!” Khopesh lets out a sigh of Intense relief. You finally feel his posture relax. “That…that makes sense…”

Anrir raises an eyebrow. “Khopesh…did you think I would send them…elsewhere?”

The Nightlord holding you bites his lip, but doesn't respond.

“Khopesh,” Anrir half laughs in disbelief, before swapping to Nostraman. “Where in the stars would I send them?? We don't exactly have an imperium of training worlds to choose from.”

“Ah…right. I just…I remembered how it was when psychers were found…in my time…” Khopesh replies, sheepish in Nostraman. “But they will be Here. They can stay Here?”.

“They will need to stay here.” Anrir confirms, swapping back to the local language so you and your parents can understand. “At Minimum for tonight as I want to monitor their status after the test.”

“I mean…I'm fine staying the night, but my job and my mom need me. I can't just up and leave.” You protest slightly.

Anrir does pause at that, seemingly thinking it over. His eyes glance back at Hura, who is also listening to the conversation. “You'll no doubt need training. We will work out an arrangement at a later time so you may help your family.” He states. “As for your job, as a participant of a scientific study you can be compensated. This way we can counteract any reduction in hours or extra travel you undertake.”

“Naturally, we would prefer your lodging to be at the base, but if you'd prefer commuting we can accommodate.” Anrir acquiesced. “If you are to ever change your mind we can set you up with a room.”

“You could stay in mine!” Khopesh cooes excitedly.

While a permanent bunk was a bit of a step, you couldn't deny the thought of sharing a bed with Khopesh again was enticing.

Especially with how tired and lonely and drained this whole roller coaster of events had left you.

“Right now…resting next to you sounds like the Best compensation for…everything…” You agree, leaning on your precious Nightlord.

Anrir chimes in. “I'm afraid I'll have to insist you stay in the observation room. We must be able to monitor you for any changes.”

“Aw really?” Khopesh groans with disappointment.

Anrir held up a hand. “You may share the space. Provided there are no objections.”

“The space won't be too bright for you will it?” You ask Khopesh.

“My darling, I would brave a solar flare for you!” Khopesh declared with a dramatic flare that made you giggle. “Besides…the hospital rooms can be dimmed, you know this don't you Lullaby?”

Now it was your turn to look embarrassed. “Ah…now I do?”

“Pftt-Hahahahaha!” Khopesh let out his trademark cackle. You honestly didn't think you'd ever thought it sounded sweeter.

You brought your hand up, gently placing it on the side of his face. “Let's go to bed Khopesh. I want to hold you.”

You feel the purring come again, Khopesh nuzzles into your hand. “Of course, my Lullaby…let us retire for the evening.” He agreed, pointedly ignoring Karlsor making a blech face in his peripheral.

“Sounds like you two have everything planned out.” Your mother chimes in.

“Don't forget, if you need us we're just a call away.” Your father reminds you.

“I know. Thank you guys so So much.” You say, feeling tears starting to well up. You bring your parents into another embrace.

“I love you both…I'll be home as soon as I'm able.” You promise, giving both your parents a kiss on the cheek.

Your folks then turn to Khopesh. “I meant what I said.” Your mother vows.

“Hey! Just take good care of our Bear bear, and you've got nothing to worry about.” Your father jokes as well.

Khopesh brings himself to attention. “I vowed the same to my Vada and Muti. You have my word.” He swore. “I will protect them with all my life, and soul.”

Your parents nod, and with another round of goodbyes and I love yous, they are escorted by Apothecary Hura back to the entrance. Meanwhile, you, Khopesh, Anrir and Claude make your way back to the observation room.

As you come to the room, you turn back to Claude. “Thanks again for all you've done Claude.”

The short haired primaris blushes, a little less than before. “Ah well…I was just trying to do right by Khopesh.”

“And you did so in Spades, little brother!” Khopesh cheers, slapping his brother on the shoulder.

“Indeed,” Anrir agrees. “You should be proud Claude, you have been an invaluable help. I'm sure Karlsor is grateful to have another Psycher to aid in warp examinations.”

Karlsor rolls his eyes and grumbles but doesn't disagree.

Anrir shows you where and how the dimmer switch works, before he and the other Night Lords depart. (You do give Claude one more hug.) Then you pick up the box of items your parents had dropped off earlier; glancing inside you feel your chest blossom with warmth.

Seems your folks hadn't forgotten your previous hospital stays. There were fresh clothes and your dental care items; as well as the items you'd actually remembered to request.

But before you get changed. “Hey! If anybody is listening, turn around so I can change!” You call out.

Khopesh comes up behind you, resting his head upon yours. You'd never get tired of his purrs.

“Hmmm, I need a little more space sweetness.” You coo, shifting to remove your shirt, Khopesh responds by nibbling a little on your ear a little, but he does back up enough.

You realize he's acting as a barrier. He might know where the survelliance viewpoint is. “Thanks cutie,” You wink, and finish changing.

You brush your teeth in the room's sink. And place your possessions as you like them on the bed. Once done, you clamber up, and snuggle beneath the covers.

It is a decently large bed after all, made for a good range of astarte sizes. Comfortable for both of you.

Khopesh sets the lights to his preference, hence why you got on the bed first as to not be clanking around in the dark. And it is very dark. You can't see a thing besides a slight glow from where your phone is face down charging.

The dark shifts, you feel different parts of the bed dip with weight, you feel a familiar breath drift over your lips.

“Mmm,” You don't hesitate to follow that breath back to the lips it came from. This kiss wasn't like the exuberant ones you'd given before. This one was…deeper…more sensual. You move gently, and Khopesh does the same, pressing close so you have more contact.

Nose to nose, forehead to forehead.

“I've missed this…so badly my Lullaby.” His voice fans out in another soft breath.

“I've missed you too.” You reply. You couldn't show Khopesh the full physical affection you Really wanted to. Not in this room, while being watched.

But you could lay next to Khopesh as he settled in beside you. You could drape your arm across him and pull yourself to him. And you could feel yourself readily and Quickly lulled to sleep by the sound of his purrs, and the feeling of him running his fingers through your hair and the sound of his two…hearts…

…zzz…

Khopesh smiled, he felt himself drifting as well; to his Lullaby's scent, their gentle breathing, and the sound of their heart…

…zzz…

__________________

Back in his study, Anrir continues to write down and transcribe his recent findings, as well as plans for future tests, possible training exercises, those sorts of things.

“You know you can go about your evening Karlsor.” Anrir says, noting how his son seems…oddly attached at the moment. Normally once testing was done he'd be on his way to get looked over for psychery pain or handle other duties.

The foul mouthed Nightlord shifts where he's standing. “I've got a fuckin question.”

Anrir pauses in his writing, the tension in the room feeling thicker. He sets down his stylus. “Of course, what is your quandary?”

“Why'd you let Lullaby argue their way out of fuckin staying so Easily? Doesn't seem like you to be so…easy about something so Security risk-ish.”

Anrir pauses, thinking over his response. “Well there was simply no need to push dear Karlsor.” The older Nightlord replies. “You of all people should know baselines can be…Stubborn. Trying to force them would have made them less cooperative.”

“But by presenting it as a choice, and one that will be present and more appealing as time goes on and commuting and training makes them more affable to it, we've a better chance of achieving the desired result.” Anrir concludes.

Karlsor nods slowly. “Okay. Makes sense…now my Other fuckin question. Who's supposed to train them?”

“...”

“You gotta be fuckin kidding me!” Karlsor growls. He's got his hands full with the Scouts and barely being able to use his powers period! He doesn't need a baby baseline psycher on Top of that. Fuckin dammit.

“Now now Karlsor, don't be so quick to dismiss.” Anrir chides. “They'll also have physical training days and I will ensure you don't have to oversee those. However…I Believe you may come to appreciate their presence when you train your psychery.”

Karlsor looks confused. “And why's fuckin that?”

“Because even without psychery I noted the improvement in your status After they'd touched you.” Anrir said pointedly. “Did you not find it strange that your warp migraine dissipated so easily? So much Quicker, than it usually does.”

Karlsor takes a moment, he's mildly stunned to realize Anrir is right. “I…You're fuckin right…what the Fuck?”

Anrir smiles, a true Nightlord grin. “I believe our dear little Lullaby could be a great benefit, not just in terms of research but in how psychery may be able to function in the future here.” Anrir's eyes take on a wild quality. “Imagine it! A psychic conduit, able to absorb and redistribute the energy from bonds!”

Karlsor is a bit…overwhelmed by his father's sudden enthusiasm, but he's not stupid. He understands the possible perks. “Uh yeah…I'd definitely appreciate less shit fuck nosebleeds and pain.”

“This is only the beginning of a long road of discovery my dear Karlsor.” Anrir proclaims, turning back to his notes. “And while you are here tell me, what sounds better: a training regime leaning more towards that of a typical Guardsman or perhaps one more akin to a Sister of Battle?”

Karlsor feels some nervous sweat bead on his brow. Lullaby better be ready for the long haul ahead.

#c u c koo anon #space marine husbandry #space marine husbandry sentience #oc: khopesh #oc: hura #oc: cedric #oc: claude #oc: karlsor #oc: anrir #gallifreyian writing

22 notes · View notes