#okay here we.go

[legobiwan]

Whumptober #1 (shaking hands)

TW: functional alcoholism

Fandom: Star Wars (Obi-wan Kenobi)

Notes: this is kind of experimental, guys

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His hands shake. 

Fatigue. Overused muscles. Drawing on an already-depleted reservoir of adrenaline, just one last time. 

A simple explanation, really.

Obi-wan brings the metal flask to his lips, drawing deep. Liquid fire burns a path down his throat, pooling at the base of his empty stomach. Sharp, ragged edges give way to a quiet, consistent thrum.

A crisis. Florrum had been a crisis. 

Obi-wan knows how to handle a crisis, how to stay steady as everything else falls apart, how to cleave the unnecessary fat of his emotions from the meaty, immediate task at hand.

He can handle a crisis. Perhaps even enjoys them. The cold logic of it, the way they leave no room for thinking, for emotion, for contemplation. Pure mechanics, even in the context of diplomacy. Press here, compliment there, a knowing nod and a well-placed chuckle and everything fell into place.

Obi-wan Kenobi was a master at crisis. 

But every storm eventually dies out, worn down by the elements, by time itself. 

He doesn’t have the luxury of falling apart. Not now.

Not ever.

His hands shake.

It’s a terrible manifestation, this loss of control, of his locus in the Force, a bright-lit sign, just like those ones in the Entertainment District. It shouts his failures at all who pass, showcasing his buried doubts, flashing in garish neon lights for each tourist, each drunk, each criminal, each passer-by - that he has never been enough.

Obi-wan takes another sip. The world warms from grey to sepia.

It's just something to take the edge off, he tells himself, his invisible critics. Something to round the sharp edges of the after.

A quick nip, hidden in a corner of the Temple, ashes of his dead Master still clinging to his robes. The first few months, a frantic blur, shuttling a small blond ball of energy from class to quartermaster to meetings to...

He hadn’t felt good about leaving Anakin with the Chancellor. But he had been desperate for the respite, unwilling to extend himself, to ask for support, lest he been seen as incapable.

Qui-gon had deemed him, if nothing else, capable. He would not fail his former Master in that. 

And so what else could he do but acquiesce, to allow the most powerful politician in the Republic to have his way?

(You could have done more. You could have accepted the invitations from the others. Instead you demurred, claiming a need to meditate, to catch up on paperwork, to perfect your Form III.)

Sometimes, it was the truth. Other times, he snuck down to the mid-levels, broad hood hiding his red-faced shame, long sleeves covering shaking hands, shaking hands, which, with enough help, would turn steady as he forgot, as his stubborn brain produced the chemicals necessary to remember what it was like to be...)

His hands were always steady as he stepped into the turbolift, racing back to the grand halls of the Senate, Anakin’s grin as wide as a desert canyon.  

Obi-wan needed that anchor, that control. 

(Meeting with the Chancellor always left his Padawan in a state. Recalcitrant and proud, unwilling to follow the simplest of Obi-wan’s dictates. He wasn’t capable of being a tyrant, didn’t have the unshakable confidence in his own moral code as Qui-gon had. All he could do was fall back on what he knew, on what others had provided for him, for the Order, over the years.)

The Code, did not waver, did not shake in the face of questions.

The Code remained steady when he couldn’t.

There was another way, of course. His hands had been steady in the red shadow of the reactor shaft. His hands had not wavered in the face of Dooku’s silky temptations. 

(If only his thoughts had been of equal fidelity.) 

Not a single tremor on Mortis. No tremble of an outstreched, pathetic arm on Zygerria, laid low on his knees, begging for the salvation of another. (Never his own.)

(Later, aboard the safety of the Star Destroyer, he would hole up in a forgotten cargo hold, his only company a ratty blanket, several generous bottles of Corellian whiskey, and the stern glare of a good friend. Cody, true to his word, had kept his disapproving silence, taking a place next to Obi-wan on the unforgiving durasteel floor, bottle dancing back and forth between their hands (Obi-wan’s steady hands) well into the night.)

Falling apart had not been a luxury during the Rako Hardeen debacle, and on Raydonia - 

Not once had his hand wavered on Raydonia. His thoughts had stumbled, his ribs had pulsed in an unrelenting ache, blood seeping from his right ear, the jagged tear in his lip screaming at nerves - 

But his hands had not shaken as they held Ventress’s lightsaber.

Then again, rage did much to focus one’s thoughts.

He remembered it from Naboo, the way the Force coalesced, a single point in his subconscious, a weapon of his will, his gathered ire, barely able to wait, yearning to be unleashed on its target.

Maul’s survival had served as odd comfort. For as much as he had been disgusted by his own descent into that well of hatred, it had been mere child’s play in comparison to Maul’s unrelenting rage, an anger so deep, so broken in the Force that it had allowed him to survive, bisected, stranded in a garbage heap, for years.

Maul’s hands, Obi-wan had noticed, never shook.

Cool metal meets his lips. Obi-wan takes another gulp, the cheap, barely diluted liquid razing what is left of his esophagus. 

Maul had razed Raydonia, too, burning it, fires towering, swallowing, suffocating what little life had been left as witness to his terror.

Pain gives focus. Focus, as Obi-wan knows all too well, is central to the life of a Jedi, to his relationship with the Force. He briefly wonders if this is how it is with the Sith, if they torture and maim and kill by means of a million small cuts as a way to focus.

It’s disgusting, a perversion of everything meant to be be good in the galaxy.

It’s also highly effective.

The battle on Florrum shouldn’t have him so distracted. Unlike Raydonia, unlike Naboo, unlike Geonosis, he knew what - who - awaited him on that dusty backwater.

And yet it still hadn’t been enough.

Not for Adi Gallia.

His hands had been steady. But his eyes had widened, unable tear themselves away from the gruesome image of Adi’s skewered, smoking corpse. His hands had not wavered as he leapt from the fallen speeder, vision filtered through the crimson blade at the side of the enemy, his body, his thoughts steel as he landed a single kick at Savage, his own blue weapon raised to cleave the bastard in two.

Hate, anger, fear - it wasn’t that a Jedi never felt these emotions. They were sentients, and even Yoda himself manifested moments of irritation, the closest to any negative emotion the old troll had likely come close to in many years.

It was part of their training, to familiarize themselves with these negative thoughts, to identify their triggers, to understand what was at the heart of that ball of anger, to be able to pull at the thread which would undo the dangerous tangle in a single motion.

Or, that’s what it should be. What he tried to teach Anakin, tried to communicate to Ahsoka. 

That’s what he should have done for himself years ago.

Instead, that knot of unpleasantness only grew, threads multiplying, sprouting, decaying, only to rise again, twice as terrible, twice as tangled. And each time Obi-wan shoved the whole ugly shape into his metaphorical closet, shaking hands the only indication anything had been at all wrong, slamming the door shut with a silent curse and a deft movement to his belt.

Enough alcohol locked the whole thing away, buried under layers of thick, woolen denial

Better quality than the blankets we receive from the Republic, he had mused once, fingering the standard-issue military fabric draped over his knees.

Obi-wan reached for the flask stationed on the floor. Nearly steady now.

His hands had not shaken as they brandished the dual weapons - his own and Adi’s. Backed against a wall, at impossible odds, the image of a fallen body playing on repeat -

He had been confident, steady as he jumped onto the back of Hondo’s speeder, even as his growing unease wrested against the heavy locked door. He had not shaken as he excused himself to one of Hondo’s last intact holding cells, stopping by the abandoned bar to swipe several bottles of alcohol likely made in some ‘fresher still.

A precautionary measure. He had felt fine, good even. Steady, focused in the Force.

Perhaps this time he had been able to banish that knot once and for all.

And then the closet burst open.

He nearly dropped the bottles - once, twice, three times. Only with the minor application of the Force had he been able to open the damned things, bringing the aperture to his lips, his swallows as desperate as those of a man stranded in the desert.

It had been an hour. Maybe two. He would need to report to the Council. Make arrangements for transport back to Republic space - for both himself and Adi’s body, he thought grimly.

Obi-wan lifted an arm.

Steady.

No tremor, no spasms. Not even a twitch.

Crimson threads gathered, contorting, a haphazard weave of guilt, anger, and sadness - no pattern, meaning, no reason why. 

(You know why, Kenobi).

Strong hands grabbed the traitorous little ball, shoving it to the back of the closet once again, the heavy door slamming shut with a dangerous finality.

Steady hands turned the lock as long, confident fingers cast the key far into the ether of his own mind.

Somehow, it always came back.

Hands. His hands. Which did not shake, did not waver - reached for the communicator buried in his utility belt.

Obi-wan sat straight. His vision remained fuzzy, his mind a delicate balance of temporary, blunted euphoria and rigid logic.

It would have to do for now.

With a sigh, he pressed the activator.

“This is General Kenobi…"

[mycatshuman]

The Demonologists

Chapter 6 The Possession

Warnings: Possesion, attempted murder, blood, brief gun mention, an exorcism, please let me know if I missed any!

Pairings: Prinxiety and Logicality

Masterlist | Previous | More

Thank you so so much to @icequeenoriginal for reading through this chapter for me!!

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Roman and Toby quickly packed up their gear as Logan and Patton got their kids into the car to go stay at a motel until the problem was fixed. "I'll get the evidence over to Father Gordon as quickly as possible. I imagine we'll get a rapid response." 

"Okay," Logan said as he tried to process that this was really happening. 

"And, uh, Logan?" Roman asked apprehensively. 

"Yes?" 

"I'll get the exorcist and be back but Virgil.." Roman trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid. 

Logan nodded. "Don't worry. I understand." 

"We'll have Toby keep an eye on you all until then, okay?" 

Logan nodded. "Yes, thank you. So much." Roman nodded swiftly as he continued packing up the van. 

-------

Inside the house, Virgil stepped out onto the back porch and glanced around. "Daddy?" Virgil snapped to attention as he heard a child's voice ring out from somewhere near the dock. It sounded startlingly familiar. He walked down to the dock as the voice called out again. "Daddy?" Virgil looked down into the murky green water and let out a gasp of horror. "Thomas! Oh, God!" He exclaimed as he saw a vision of his child floating through the water. "Thomas!" He dropped to his knees and tried to grab his son only to splash the image away. With panicked movements, he rushed up to the house and raced inside past Roman who had just come out to get him. 

"Virgil?" He shouted as he followed his husband into the house. "Wait!" Virgil rushed to his phone sitting with the last of their things and quickly picked it up and fumbled to dial his mother's number. "Virgil?" Roman questioned as he noticed the tears flowing down the other’s face. Virgil glanced at him. Just as he was about to answer, his mom picked up. "Mom! Is Thomas okay?!?!" 

"What?!?!" Roman exclaimed at the mention of his son. 

"Can you go check, please?" Virgil sobbed. "Damn it, Mom! Just check!" 

Roman felt his heart rate pick up at the prospect of his son not being okay. "Virgil, please tell me what's going on." 

Virgil turned to Roman again. "It's Thomas." 

"What do you mean? Please help me understand!" 

"Oh! Thank God!" Virgil let out a breath of relief. "I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't mean to scare you. I'll explain it all later. Thank you." Virgil hung up as Roman waited, with bated breath. Virgil sighed wearily as he slipped his phone into his pocket. "I had a vision of Thomas, in the water." Roman froze. "I just know it was some kind of warning. I-" Virgil stopped to breathe as his heart raced. 

Roman stepped closer to his husband and wrapped his arms around him. "Okay, let's get going. Okay? Let's go." The Warrens rushed out of the house as quickly as they could. 

-----

Roman and Virgil watched the footage they had captured while also keeping an eye on Father Gordon's reaction. Soon the video ended and the room went silent. Father Gordon removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "So?" Virgil asked. 

"Well...you weren't kidding." Father Gordon put his glasses back on as he chose his next words. "You know….it's complicated. The kids aren't baptized and the family, they're not members of the Church-"

"Oh, come on!" Roman and Virgil exclaimed. 

"The approval has to come directly from the Vatican." 

"But Father, we have never seen anything like this." 

Father Gordon sighed and picked up the images taken of Kai as they walked up the stairs in their sleep. In the first one, there was a mist like a hand that laid on top of Kai's shoulder while the second one contained a full-body apparition standing behind them as they walked up the stairs. "Neither have I." 

"Father, they don't have a lot of time." Virgil pushed. 

"I will push it through myself." 

"Thank you so much," Roman sighed. 

"We'll wait for your call." 

-----

Thunder roared as the sky poured.  On the table beside Thomas's bed, the locket containing the pictures of his parents began swinging wildly as if moved by the howling wind outside. Thomas jolted awake as a flash of lightning lit up the room with the accompaniment of thunder. He blinked. "Daddy? Papa?" He called out. He stepped out into the hallway and flicked the hall light on. He walked down the stairs and looked around the living room. "Daddy? Papa?" He called out again. He turned toward the stairs leading down into the basement as he heard a noise in that direction. Thomas walked down the stairs and moved past the artifact room to go into the office when the door clicked open. He turned around. "Papa?" He pushed the door open slightly but saw no light inside the room. I guess they're not here. He turned to go back up the stairs when the light from the second floor flipped off, drenching the living room in complete darkness. 

Thomas froze. Fear flooded his senses as he stepped back as seemingly darker darkness crept forward and engulfed the stairwell. Thomas screamed and turned to run into a room on the other side of the stairs. He slammed the door shut and placed his hands over his ears as something pounded heavily on the door. But no matter how hard he pressed against his eardrums, he still heard the loud bangs. He screamed with each one. The sound suddenly stopped. Thomas gingerly took his hands away from his ears and peaked at the door. 

Thomas whirled around at the sound of rocking only to freeze as he saw someone sitting in the rocking chair, facing away from him. He slowly backed away as he noticed the doll in the person's lap. Annabelle. His eyes widened as he saw the doll’s head turn slowly to look at him. He screamed and turned around and tried to leave only for the door to not move. "Nanny!" He screamed. "Nanny!" Thomas began beating on the door petrified as he screamed. "Nanny! Help!" 

Upstairs, Nanny woke up to the sound of her grandpa's screams. "Thomas?" She climbed out of bed and raced down the stairs. "Thomas!" 

"Nanny!" 

Nanny let out a gasp and began yanking on the doorknob. "Thomas! Open the door!" 

"Dad!" Thomas cried out as his fear began to overwhelm him. 

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"Roman!" Virgil shouted as they pulled into their driveway. The sound of Thomas crying out for him rang in his ears. "Something's wrong!"

"What?!" Roman exclaimed as he haphazardly parked the car and raced into their house. 

"Thomas!"

"Nanny!" 

"Open the door!"

"What's going on here?!" Roman asked panicked as he raced into the basement with his husband. 

"Thomas! Get back, honey!" Roman shouted through the door as he began ramming his shoulder against the wood. "Get back!" 

"Help!" Thomas screamed as he looked back and saw the chair swirl around to face him. 

"Thomas!" Roman shouted as he busted the door open and yanked him out of the way as the rocking chair from the corner of the room flew over and smashed against the wall where his son stood not moments before. 

Virgil scooped Thomas up in his arms as he panicked. "Are you okay?" He asked, frantically checking over Thomas for any injuries. 

"Someone was rocking in the chair with Annabelle!" Thomas sobbed. 

Roman eyes blew wide and he raced to the door and unlocked it, racing in and immediately going to the back of the room where Annabelle sat in her case. He sighed and left the room, locking it. "She's still in the case." Virgil's face fell as he realized the witch from their current case was going after their son now too. Trying to stop them from helping this family. He hugged Thomas closer as he worked on slowing his breathing. 

-------

Logan pulled up to the hotel room in the van with Toby.  He frowned as he noticed Emile standing outside. "Dad! Dad!" Emile shouted, worry evident in his voice. "Pa just left with Jericho and Dante."

"What?!?!" Logan exclaimed.

"He didn't say where he was going." 

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Jericho held his brother tightly as they sat in the backseat of the family car. "Where are we.going?" Dante asked softly. 

No answer. 

"Pa?" 

Still no answer. Jericho pulled his brother tighter into his embrace. Dante curled in and hid his face. Something felt off about his Papa. But he didn't know what. And that scared him. 

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Roman answered his phone as it rang and looked down at Virgil and Thomas as he talked. "Hello?" 

"Mr. Warren, it's Logan. Something’s wrong with Patton. Emile said that he just left with Jericho and Dante. And the kids say he smelled like rotting meat." 

Virgil was suddenly up onto his feet, handing Thomas off to his mother. "She possesses a parent to kill the child. That's what she does. She's taken them back to the house." 

Roman gasp. "Logan, get back to the house now! Meet you there!" He hung his phone up and raced to grab his things. Virgil followed. "Virgil.." Roman started. 

"No, I'm coming with you." 

"No! Stay here with Thomas!" 

"The only way to protect Thomas is to stop this, otherwise she's just going to latch on to us again!"

"That's why I'm going!" 

"You're stupid if you think I'm going to let you do this alone." 

Roman sighed as he marched to the door. "I don't want to lose you." 

"You're not going to," Virgil responded. He marched out the door and placed himself firmly in the car before Roman could stop him. "Let's do this together." 

-------

Roman pulled up to the house to find Logan and Toby outside pounding on the door. "It's locked!" Toby called out to them. "Patton!" Virgil shouted as he ran up to one of the windows and peered inside. Remy's patrol car quickly pulled up and he leaped out of the car. "Logan! Move!" He exclaimed as he raced up the stairs. Then he pointed his gun at the lock and shot the lock off. He quickly kicked the door in. The five adults pushed into the house and found Patton in the living room holding a sharp knife as he got ready to stab Jericho. "Patton!" Logan screamed. He rushed forward and pulled Patton off their son as Virgil pulled Jericho into his arms.  

Roman grabbed one of Patton's arms and instructed Logan to do the same. "Come on! We'll take him to the priest for the exorcism!" Virgil let Toby take Jericho as he moved to go with the others. 

"Wait! Where's Dante?" Toby called. His voice was drowned out by Patton's screams as he fought against Roman and Logan's holds. He kicked his feet and tried to yank himself out of their grasps. 

Toby ran out the back door with Jericho to go around to the front and put him in the car and keep him away from the possessed Patton. 

Just as Roman and Logan were about to bring Patton over the threshold and out of the house, a force stopped them and Patton screamed as a welt burned onto his neck Virgil whirled around and gasped. "Shit! She's not going to let him leave the house!" 

"What?" Remy shouted. 

"If we take him out the witch is going to kill him!" 

Patton was suddenly yanked backward. "Logan!" He screamed as he was dragged by his feet down the hall and down into the cellar. 

"Patton!" Logan screamed! Roman, Virgil, and Logan raced forward as the door to the basement slammed shut. Remy followed and quickly kicked the door down. 

Outside, Toby calmly spoke to Jericho. "Alright, you have to stay in here, I'm going to find Dante. Just stay down." Jericho cried as Toby left but he had to find his brother and get him to safety too. He couldn't just let him stay in there where he could get hurt. 

Downstairs, Remy tackled Patton and fought to keep him under control and Roman and Virgil tried to figure out what to do. Virgil let Roman think it out as he took charge. "Get something to tie him up! We don't want him hurting anyone or himself!" Logan nodded and quickly found some rope among the things left behind by the previous family. 

"We have to get Father Gordon out here," Roman said. 

Virgil shook his head. "No! He's too far away! He's not going to make it if we have to wait!" 

Roman watched as Logan and Remy fought to tie Patton up. "You have to leave," he said, turning to Virgil. 

His husband was already shaking his head. "No, God brought us together for a reason. And this is one of them. I'm going to get the book." And before Roman could stop him, Virgil was running up the stairs and outside to grab Roman's bible. Roman sighed and looked for a chair they could get Patton to sit in. As Virgil came back down the stairs, Patton was able to break free and take a chunk out of Remy's arm. 

"ARGHH!" 

Virgil quickly thrust the bible into Roman's hands and yanked a sheet off of a nearby table and covered Patton with it. Together, he helped Logan tie Patton into a chair. 

Roman took a deep breath and pulled out his crucifix. Virgil and Remy stepped back beside the other two. Roman crossed himself and Virgil followed suit. "In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Vade retra, Satan! Sante Michele Arcangelo, defende nos eo proelio." 

Patton began screeching. "Don't give in Patton! Virgil called out. "Don't give in! Don't let her take you!" Logan watched with fearful eyes. He was terrified for his husband. 

"In the name of Jesus Christ the saints and all the angels, I command you to reveal yourself!" Suddenly, blood splattered the inside of the sheet. "Stop!" Logan screamed. "You're killing him!"

"We are fighting for his soul!" Virgil shouted. "We can't stop!" 

"...omnes inimici, et invisibilium, et liberabitur! Omnes fantasma, omnis legio, in nomine Domini nostri lesu…" Roman paused as Patton stopped screeching. Everything stood still. Then, the chair Patton was in slowly floated up into the air before their very eyes. Logan felt faint. The chair spun upside down and began to repeatedly but the ceiling with the legs.  "Put him down!" Roman shouted. "Put him down!" The chair smashed into the floor and Virgil rushed forward to hold Patton in place with Logan following. 

"Hold him still. Don't lose him, Logan!" 

Anger got the best of Logan and he tore the sheet off of his possessed husband's face. "Dammit! You leave my husband alone! Let him go! Just fucking let him go!" Patton stopped thrashing against his hold and slowly turned to look at him. Logan nearly recoiled. That wasn't his husband. It wasn't his face, it wasn't his eyes.

A voice came from his husband's throat. It wasn't Patton's voice. "He's already gone. Now, you're all going to die." Then he laughed wickedly. Logan's grip loosened. 

"I found Dante! He's under the floor in the kitchen!" Toby shouted, barely even thinking. 

Patton scrambled out of Logan and Virgil's hold and crawled into the walls as he grabbed a pair of long scissors.  "Patton!" Logan screamed. Everyone raced after him. 

Virgil gasped and threw himself up the stairs and into the kitchen. But he was too late, Dante saw possessed Patton coming and he screamed and quickly began trying to crawl away. Logan and Roman tried to follow but found they couldn't fit through the spaces Dante and Patton had fit through. "No!! Patton!" Logan screamed as he watched Dante get yanked into the other's arms, he raised his arm high and prepared to stab the scissors into Dante. 

"PATTON NO!!!" Virgil screamed. 

"BETHSHEBA!" Roman thundered. Patton jerked his head to look at Roman but it wasn't his body.  For a moment, the image of the witch shone through. "By the power of God, I condemn you back to Hell!" 

Virgil reached down and placed his hand on Patton's forehead, his rosary wrapped around his hand and wrist. "This is your son! You can not give in!" 

"Logan, you have to get him to fight from the inside!" Roman shouted. 

"Don't let her do this to you, honey, fight her you can do this, please fight her!" 

"Remember what you showed me!" Virgil shouted down to Patton as he laid against the kitchen floor, his arm scraping against the edges of the hole. Patton cried out again and Dante ripped himself from his grip and scrambled over to Roman who handed him off to Logan. "You said that your children meant the world to you, this is what you'll be leaving behind." 

"Daddy?" Dante called out as he stared at him through the gaps in the wood separating them. Patton looked over and then went over and began throwing up a dark sludge. Once he stopped, he looked over and cried.

"I'm so sorry! I love you so much! I'm sorry baby!" Virgil, Logan, and Roman let out a collective sigh of relief. He had done it. 

-------

As Logan helped Patton outside, the rays of the sun shone down on him and his bruises faded away and he began to look healthier than he had in weeks. "Dad!" The rest of the children raced up to hug their parents.  Roman and Virgil smiled as he dropped down to sit on the edge of the porch. Remy sat beside them, pressing a rag to his arm. 

"Did a draft do that?" Toby asked. 

Remy groaned. "Yeah, whatever. "

Virgil snickered. Then he turned as Dante walked over to them with a smile. He carefully handed him the locket that had been yanked from his neck nearly 24 hours ago. "Thank you," he said and Dante smiled brightly before returning to his family. 

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"I'll call Father Gordon and let him know what went down," Virgil said as he returned home with his husband. 

"Alright," Roman responded before breaking away from his husband and going down into the artifact room.  He pulled a ragout of his bag and went to a nearby shelf. He then carefully pushed away some other artifacts to make room for their new one. Taking the music box from their most recent case out of the bag, he then gently set it down in its new place among the other haunted and cursed items. 

"The Vatican approved the exorcism," Virgil said as Roman left the artifact room. 

Roman snorted."Nice timing."

"He also wanted to discuss a new case with us." 

"Well.." Roman started. "Let’s go discuss it."  

-------

The Warrens remained friends with Patton, Logan, and their family. They even recommended a good therapist for them that would help them move on and move past this dark chapter of their lives. And when Dante began showing signs of being able to see through the veil and into the spirit world, they helped with that too. In the end, they had come to see each other as family. And Thomas suddenly had a few new cousins to make trouble with. 

The end.

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And that is the last chapter. This has been such an interesting journey. And since I started writing this story, at least two new Conjuring Universe movies have come out. I find myself loving Annabelle Comes Home and I was thinking of making a sequel to this book but following Thomas as he goes through what Judy does in Annabelle Comes Home. I already have ideas of who could be Danielle. If you could let me know if you would like to see an Annabelle Comes Home squel type thing to this book, please?

Thank you so so much for reading!

Taglist: @spxced-oxt @superwholocked-for-life @mirror2thespirit @aroundofapplesauce @lyditist @little-euro-girl @unicornofdarknessstuff @maryann-draws @odette-ssbu

Demonologist taglist (if you would like to be added to the sequels taglist, please let me know): @bisexuallyinlove @under-the-blue-moonlight @jadeace115 @sweetsmalldog @thefancon10ent @mrtacothethird @ilovemygaydad @whump-a-phobia @cas-is-a-hunter