#Doctoring Slitting Machine

[pucksandpower]

The Center Cannot Hold

Charles Leclerc x wife!Reader

Summary: one cruel diagnosis sends your hopes and dreams crashing down in painful shards around you

Warnings: cancer, medical procedures, infertility, religion, recommendation to terminate pregnancy

The sun sneaks through slits in the blinds, casting patches of warmth on your shared bed. You’re nestled against Charles’ chest, his heartbeat a gentle hum beneath your ear.

“Morning,” he murmurs, voice thick with sleep.

You smile, shifting around to meet his gaze. “It’s beautiful outside.”

Charles brushes a stray hair behind your ear. “Every day with you is beautiful.”

There’s a silent pause as the two of just stare at each other. You both know there is more to this morning than mere pleasantries. You think of the tiny stick in the bathroom, far more significant than its small size would have you believe.

“Should we?” You ask hesitantly.

He nods, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. “Together.”

You both rise hand in hand, making the short walk to the bathroom. Your hands tremble as you reach for the plastic stick on the granite counter.

With a deep breath, you pick it up.

Two lines.

Positive.

Tears prick your eyes and you turn to Charles. “Look,” your voice barely a whisper.

He chokes on air. “Is this ... are we really”

“We did it,” you confirm, tears streaming freely.

Charles’ eyes shimmer with unshed tears of his own. He pulls you into his arms, burying his face in your hair. “We’re going to be parents.”

You pull back slightly, placing a hand on your stomach. “Our baby.”

He nods, laughing softly through his tears. “Our little miracle.”

Holding the test between you both, you share a look of wonder. It feels like the universe has just shifted and realigned in the most beautiful way.

***

The waiting room is a sea of neutral tones and the soft murmurs of hushed conversations. You sit, nervously tapping your fingers on your knee, while Charles wraps an arm around your shoulders in an attempt to calm you.

He leans down to whisper in your ear, “You alright?”

You give him a small, tense smile. “Just a bit nervous. First-time jitters, I guess.”

Charles gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Everything will be fine. It’s just a routine check-up.”

Before you can respond, a soft voice calls out, “Mrs. Leclerc?”

You both rise and follow the nurse as she leads you into a cozy exam room, pastel walls adorned with photos of smiling babies and happy families.

After a series of routine checks and questions, the mood remains light. However, when the doctor enters, a middle-aged woman with a kind face, there’s a subtle shift in the air, a feeling that’s hard to pin down.

“First-time parents?” She asks with a warm smile, trying to put you at ease.

Charles nods, beaming with pride. “Yes and we’re over the moon about it.”

She returns the smile but then her expression becomes more clinical, professional, as she reviews the ultrasound. The room is filled with the sound of the machine and your quiet exhalations.

Minutes stretch on, the silence growing more pronounced. The doctor’s brows furrow, her lips pressed into a thin line.

Charles, sensing the change, grips your hand tighter. “Is everything alright?”

She hesitates for a moment before turning to face you both. “Your baby seems healthy but there’s something concerning about your cervix. I would like to run a few more tests to be sure.”

Your heart plummets, the room suddenly feeling colder. “What ... what do you mean?”

She chooses her words carefully, “There is a chance that it is just a benign irregularity but we need to be certain.”

Tests turn into more tests and the hours seem to blur. Charles is fidgeting anxious mess beside you but his thumb never stops stroking your hand.

Finally, the doctor returns, the weight of the world seemingly on her shoulders. “I won’t sugarcoat it,” she begins heavily. “The results point to cervical cancer.”

Silence deafens the room. The world around you blurs and you feel Charles’ arms wrap around you, holding you as if you might shatter.

“No,” Charles whispers, his voice breaking. “There must be a mistake.”

The doctor looks at you with sympathy. “I wish there was. We caught it early but it’s aggressive. My recommendation would be to terminate the pregnancy and begin treatment immediately.”

Your mind races, heartbreak and disbelief clashing within. “Terminate? But our baby ...”

She gently cuts you off. “It’s the best chance to save your life.”

Your vision blurs, the reality of her words crashing over you like a tidal wave. The room, with its softly painted walls and happy baby pictures, suddenly feels like a cruel mockery.

Charles eyes are clouded over with tears and despair. “Please,” he whispers, holding your face between his trembling hands. “I can’t lose you.”

You choke back a sob, the enormity of the situation making it hard to breathe. “But our baby, Charles. Our little miracle.”

He hugs you close, his voice muffled as he buries his face your hair. “I know. But I need you. We promised each other forever, remember?”

You clutch at him, memories of shared dreams and whispered promises flooding back. The villa by the sea that you would fill with warmth and laughter, growing old together, watching sunsets side by side.

“I can’t imagine a life without you,” he continues, voice breaking. “Not a single day.”

The pain in his words cuts deep, each syllable a raw wound. You hide your face in his chest, tears soaking his shirt.

“We wanted this baby so much,” you whisper brokenly.

“I know,” Charles chokes out. “But I need you with me. I can’t be alone. I can’t live without you.”

***

The soft glow of a lamp casts long shadows, making the room feel both intimate and immense. You sit on the couch, a soft blanket draped around your shoulders, staring blankly at the tea that has long gone cold in your mug.

Charles sits opposite you, unmoving. He clears his throat, searching for words, “I’ve been thinking ... about what the doctor said.”

You look up, meeting his gaze, a storm brewing within it. “So have I.”

Charles closes his eyes, struggling with his emotions. “I can’t bear the thought of a world without you in it. I would be content, you know? To grow old, just the two of us, if it means I spend every day of my life with you by my side.”

Your heart aches, tears pricking your eyes. “Charles, our baby ...”

He cuts you off, voice filled with raw emotion. “I know. But you’re my world. I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you.”

A heavy silence settles between you two, the weight of unsaid words pressing down.

You take a deep breath, “I want this baby. I want our baby. But I also want to grow old with you, to be there for every race, for every win and every loss, on and off the track.”

He reaches across, taking your hand in his, fingers interlocking. “We’ve faced so much together. But this is tearing me apart. I just want you safe.”

You squeeze his hand, searching his eyes. “If I choose the baby, will you ... will you resent me? Will you resent them? If I choose the baby, and ... leave you alone?”

He looks away, the pain of thinking about it clear on his face, “Never. I would be lost. Completely and utterly lost. But I’ll never hold it against you. Or them. I’ll cherish our child but my heart ... my heart would be forever broken.”

You both sit in silence, lost in your thoughts.

“I’ve made up my mind.”

Charles looks at you intently, waiting.

“I’m going to keep the baby.”

He shuts his eyes tightly but a tear manages to slip through the crack and down his face. “I will support whatever decision you make. I just ... I love you so much.”

You move closer, wrapping your arms around him. “I love you too. We’ll face this together, no matter what.”

As you lay down beside Charles, the comfort of the familiar sheets beneath you, he wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. You can feel the tension in his body, the struggle to be the rock, to be strong.

In the quiet darkness, you feel more than hear his silent sobs, the tremors that shake his frame. You reach out, intertwining your fingers with his, offering the only comfort you can as the world falls apart around you.

***

“Please, mon amour, just eat something,” Charles implores, voice laced with worry as he holds out a plate of your favorite pasta.

The aroma drifts to you, making your stomach churn, but you force a weak smile. “I’ll try.”

It’s been months since that fateful doctor’s appointment. The specter of cancer looms over your pregnancy like a dark cloud, casting shadows on the joy you should be feeling.

Days blur into one another. Doctor visits are now your routine. Charles, who once sped around racetracks with fearless abandon, now navigates the hospital corridors with a silent determination.

There are days when weakness consumes you, moments when you can’t summon the strength to get out of bed. Charles has become your lifeline, helping you dress, making sure you eat, and even carrying you when your legs give out.

“I can’t do this,” you whisper to him one night, tears tracing down your cheeks. “I’m not strong enough.”

He cradles your face, his own eyes brimming with tears he refuses to shed. “You are the strongest person I know. You’re carrying our baby. That’s the bravest thing anyone can do.”

The pain is relentless, a constant companion. Each doctor’s visit brings more bad news. The cancer is spreading and your body is weakening. Yet, you cling to hope, to the belief that your love for each other can conquer anything.

One evening, you're curled up on the couch, aching and exhausted. Charles, sitting beside you, traces a finger along your cheek, his touch gentle as he tries to be strong for both of you.

“You’re my world,” he murmurs, voice thick with emotion. “I hate seeing you like this but I would rather be with you in this darkness than without you in the light.”

Tears well up in your eyes as you reach for his hand. “We’ll get through this together. Our love is stronger than anything. Even cancer.”

But you’re not sure how much you can believe that anymore.

***

“You’re playing with fire,” your sister blurts out the moment she steps into your living room. Her eyes are red, mascara messily smudged around them.

Charles’ jaw clenches but before he can retort, your father interjects, his voice roughened by age and worry, “She means you’re risking too much. We all see it.”

You sink further into the couch under the weight of their stares. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you really?” Your mother questions wetly. “Every time we see you, you’re paler, weaker. Is it worth it?”

Charles steps forward, taking your hand. “It’s her choice. And I’ll stand by her through everything.”

Your best friend sighs deeply. “We’re just scared for you. We don’t want to lose you.”

The room becomes a whirlwind of opinions, tears, and pleas. They all mean well, you know that, but the their concerns feel suffocating.

The tension escalates, words sharper than intended, when suddenly Charles explodes, “That’s enough! It’s her decision and it’s not up for you to debate.”

The room falls silent.

Your sister speaks up, “We just love you, that’s all.”

Charles collapses onto the couch beside you, burying his face in his hands. “And you think I don’t? I don’t want to be a widower. A single father looking at our child and seeing only the love we lost,” he admits in a hushed tone, his voice breaking. “It’s the only thing I see whenever I close my eyes. It plagues my dreams. But that love means supporting Y/N even if seeing what she’s going through breaks my heart.”

You pull him close. “I know. But I need to hold onto hope. To believe we can have it all. Our baby and a lifetime together.”

He gazes deep into your eyes. “I love you. More than words can say. I just want you with me, always.”

Tears flow freely down your cheeks as you reach for his hand. “I know you’re scared. I am too. But I believe in us, in our love. And I can’t bear to let go of our baby.”

He wraps you in a hug and you can feel his body trembling. “I don’t want to lose you but I can’t stand to see you suffer like this either.”

***

“Do you think they’ll have your eyes?” Charles murmurs, his hand gently resting on your swollen belly, fingers tracing small circles.

You smile weakly, feeling the flutter of tiny kicks in response. “Or your fearless spirit?”

He chuckles softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your baby bump. “Hey there, little racer. Promise me you’ll take after your mother more.”

Despite the weariness that constantly lingers, these quiet moments fill your heart with warmth.

“Imagine,” you whisper one evening, “our little one’s first day of school or their first race if they decide to follow in their papa’s footsteps.”

Charles grins, “And inheriting their maman’s stubborn streak will surely mean they’ll be a world champion.”

As your body grows heavier with the weight of the pregnancy and growth of the cancer, your time spent outside the confines of your bed becomes increasingly limited. The facade Charles wears for your benefit becomes increasingly brittle. He’s your rock, never letting his worries show in front of you, but you still see the toll it’s taking on him.

One evening, after ensuring you’re comfortably tucked in, Charles kisses your forehead softly and whispers, “Rest, mon amour. I’ll be right here.”

Drifting into a fitful sleep, you wake to the muffled sound of heart-wrenching sobs. Curiosity pulls you from the warm cocoon of your bed with the last of your strength, guiding you towards the soft light spilling from the slightly ajar bathroom door.

Listening closer, you can hear Charles’ broken voice, “I can’t ... I can’t lose her. Not like this.”

You press your hand to your mouth, tears spilling down your cheeks as you realize he’s on a call, probably with one of his brothers.

“You don’t understand,” Charles continues, his voice trembling with emotion. Every time I look at her, I see our future slipping away. Our dreams, our plans ... everything is fading into ashes.”

There’s a pause, punctuated with stifled sobs. “I have to be strong for her but it’s tearing me apart. Every smile I wear, every reassurance I give, it all feels like a lie because I am so freaking scared.”

Your heart aches, hearing the raw pain in his voice, knowing all this time he’s been shielding you from his own agony.

Silently, you retreat, not wanting him to know you’ve overheard. Slipping back into bed, you grapple with the weight of the shared pain, the collective heartache that has become your reality.

Minutes later, Charles returns to the bedroom. His eyes red-rimmed but determined. He sends a shaky smile your way, “How’s my brave girl?”

You reach out, trying to pull him against your chest with tired arms. “Let’s be brave together.”

He nods, choking back fresh tears. “Together. No matter what.”

***

The old church stands quietly in Maranello, its tall steeple pointing skyward, as if reaching out to the heavens. Inside, the soft glow of candles flickers as the side door swings open. Don Pietro, an aging priest with kind eyes lined with crow’s feet, is startled by the sudden entrance.

“Charles?” His voice, filled with surprise, echoes softly in the hushed space.

Charles’ normally confident stride is replaced with hesitation. “Don Pietro,” he tries to muster a smile but fails. “I ... I didn’t know where else to go.”

The priest approaches, eyes filled with concern. “I’ve been worried. When Ferrari announced you were taking a season off, I prayed for you.”

Charles chuckles bitterly, “Prayers. Never thought I would be seeking those.”

Don Pietro studies him for a moment. “Pain has a way of making us turn to the unexpected.”

Charles’ face contorts in anguish. “I’ve always called myself an atheist. After Jules ... after my father ... I felt abandoned by any god that might exist. But now, she’s ... she’s everything to me and I’m powerless to stop losing her.”

The priest’s voice is soft when he replies, “Life may test us in ways we can’t comprehend. But God never gives us more than we can bear.”

Charles’ laugh is hollow, devoid of mirth. “Bear? I can’t bear the thought of a world without her. Tell me, how does a loving god allow such pain?”

Don Pietro sighs, the weight of many years shining through. “I won’t pretend to know all the answers but sometimes faith is all we have.”

“I feel like I’m being punished, like I’m cursed. Why else would I lose the people I love most?” Charles looks at the ground, his shoulders slumped in defeat as he takes a shuddering breath. “I would give anything ... anything to save her. I have thought to visit mosques, synagogues, temples ... anywhere some higher power might listen to my pleas. I’m desperate, Don Pietro.”

The priest speaks gently, “Turning to God in times of despair is not weakness. It’s human. But faith is not about bargaining, it’s about having trust.”

A tear rolls down Charles’ cheek. “I’m so scared. Every night, I watch her sleep, wondering if it will be our last night together. I would gladly give up everything else if it means she stays with me.”

The priest reaches out, placing a comforting hand on Charles’ shoulder. “Then let’s pray, my son. Let us pray together.”

The tears turn to a steady stream rolling down Charles’ cheeks as he falls to his knees. “Please ... I’ll do anything. Just don’t take her away.”

Don Pietro kneels beside him. “God hears you, Charles. And He knows your pain.”

They stay united in prayer. Two souls reaching out to the heavens and begging for a miracle.

***

“It’s too early,” you gasp, clutching the bed sheets as another contraction grips you.

Charles is by your side, panic evident in his eyes even as he tries to keep you calm. “Breathe, love. Just breathe. We’ll get through this.”

But the pain is relentless, each contraction more intense than the last. The hospital room is a blur of activity, doctors and nurses rushing around, preparing for the premature delivery.

“You need to stay strong,” one of the nurses urges, trying to guide you through the pain.

Charles, pale and shaking, holds your hand so tightly it’s almost painful. “Stay with me,” he pleads, his voice breaking. “You and our baby, both of you, stay with me. Please.”

The labor is grueling, each passing minute a test of your willpower and strength. Charles is crumbling into pieces beside you, every ounce of his pain clearly written across his face.

“I can’t lose you,” he whispers, leaning close. “Not now, not ever.”

But the world around you is fading, the pain becoming too much to bear. “I love you so much. In this life and the next,” you choke out with the last of your strength as your vision tunnels.

Suddenly, alarms blare. The room becomes a whirlwind of organized chaos. “We’re losing her!” A doctor shouts.

Charles is pushed aside as they work to save you. “No! Please, no!” He screams in agony.

You’re dimly aware of being rushed into another room, doctors shouting orders and starting emergency procedures.

Then, everything goes black.

Charles is left in the corridor. A broken man, waiting for news, praying for a miracle. Hours feel like days, each passing second an eternity.

Finally, a doctor emerges, his scrubs covered in spots of dark blood. “The baby is fine,” he begins, “But your wife ... we had to put her in a coma. The cancer is advanced. We’ll do everything we can but she’s not out of the woods.”

Charles sinks to the floor, tears streaming down his face. “Please, just save her. Please.”

***

“It’s a girl,” a nurse approaches Charles with a small bundle wrapped in a soft pink blanket.

Charles, tears still fresh on his face, looks up, momentarily stunned. “A ... a girl?”

The nurse nods, offering the tiny newborn to him. “Would you like to hold her?”

He hesitates, then slowly reaches out, cradling his daughter in his arms. Her small face, a canvas of peace among the chaos, is a stark contrast to the turmoil surrounding them.

“She’s beautiful,” he whispers, tears starting anew. “Just like her mother.”

The nurse smiles gently. “Have you thought of a name?”

Charles nods, “Juliette. After my godfather.”

Gently rocking the infant, he leans down, pressing a tender kiss on her forehead. “Hey, Juliette,” he murmurs. “I’m your papa. Your maman and I have waited so long for you. We love you so much.”

Juliette stirs, her tiny fingers curling around one of Charles’ own.

“I promise,” Charles voice breaks, “to protect you. I will be here for you, always.”

A doctor approaches, clearing his throat. “Mr. Leclerc, your wife’s condition is critical. But she’s a fighter and she has a lot to fight for.”

Charles nods, looking down at Juliette. “She does. We both do.”

Gently rocking your daughter, he loses himself in the rhythm of her soft breaths and the warmth of her tiny body against his chest. It’s an odd feeling — holding the fresh promise of life in his arms while the love of his life hangs in the balance.

***

“We’ve run all possible tests,” the oncologist begins. Charles, clutching a sleeping Juliette to his chest, waits with bated breath. “The cancer has progressed aggressively. To give her a fighting chance, we need to perform a hysterectomy.”

The room grows cold as the gravity of the doctor’s words sinks in. Charles’ voice trembles, “But that means ...”

The doctor nods, voice as gentle as the situation allows. “She won’t be able to bear children again.”

Silence stretches as the weight of the world seems to fall on Charles’ shoulders. He gazes down at Juliette, the embodiment of the dreams and hopes you both had.

“We had plans,” Charles whispers, more to himself. “We wanted more children, a big family.”

The doctor waits. “I understand how hard this is. But without the procedure, her chances ...”

“I know,” Charles cuts him off, voice breaking. “Do it. Do whatever it takes to save her.”

The doctor nods, squeezing Charles’ shoulder in a gesture of comfort. “We’ll do our best.”

As preparations for the surgery commence, Charles sits in the dimly lit waiting area, holding Juliette close. The baby, as if sensing the heavy atmosphere, remains unusually quiet.

“It’s not fair,” Charles’ lips form words meant for the void. “She’s sacrificed so much already. She deserves a world filled with joy and laughter.”

From across the room, a nurse, having overheard, speaks up, “Life has its cruel twists but the love you both share … that’s rare. Hold onto that.”

Charles nods, taking solace in the nurse’s words. Time seems to lose all meaning, each tick of the clock amplifying the uncertainty and fear.

Finally, a surgeon approaches, fatigue evident in her posture even as her face remains carefully professional. “The procedure went as well as could be expected. Your wife is stable for now.”

Relief floods Charles so rapidly that he has to stop himself from falling to the ground as he murmurs a heartfelt, “Thank you.”

But as he sits by your bedside, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest, the reality of what you had lost sets in. The dreams of a large family, shared laughter, and memories, all stolen by this cruel twist of fate.

***

The world around you is a haze of light and shadow, the sounds a distant echo. Your eyes flutter open and for a moment you’re lost, disoriented, and overwhelmed. Then, you see Charles, his face etched with relief and sorrow, tears glistening in his eyes.

“Welcome back,” he whispers, his voice cracking with emotion. “We’ve missed you so much.”

You try to speak but your throat is too parched to make a sound. Charles offers you a sip of water, his hands trembling as he helps you drink.

“What happened?” You finally manage to croak, your eyes darting around the unfamiliar room.

Charles takes a deep breath, his gaze never leaving yours. “The cancer ... it had advanced. They had to perform a hysterectomy to save you.”

The word hangs in the air, heavy and final. Your abdomen feels sore and you reach down, fingers tracing the bandages. Panic seizes you and the tears pour down without permission as the reality of what’s been taken from you crashes down.

“It’s gone,” you sob. “Our dreams ... our family.”

Charles leans in, tears mingling with yours. “Shh, mon amour. None of this is your fault. We’ll find another way, another path to happiness. We have Juliette and we have each other.”

But the weight of guilt is crushing. “We dreamed of a big family,” you cry, the depth of your loss piercing. “And I’ve taken that away from us.”

He brushes your tears away. “You have nothing to be sorry for. This is not your fault. We’ll make new dreams together, I promise.”

“I just wanted to give you everything,” the grief wracks your body.

“You already have,” Charles insists. “You’ve given me love, you’ve given me our little girl … our Juliette. That’s more than I could ever ask for.”

With great effort, you lift your arms, weak from the ordeal. Charles, understanding your unspoken desire, carefully places Juliette against your chest. You’re too weak to hold her on your own but together, you and Charles support her tiny form.

“Hello, Juliette," you whisper, tears of joy mingling with your earlier tears of grief.

She blinks up at you, her eyes wide and curious. You’ve never felt anything like what fills your heart as you look at the perfect human you both created, the embodiment of love and resilience.

“I love you both so much,” you whisper, heart swelling with a dizzying mix of joy and sorrow.

Charles, his own eyes filled with tears, leans down and kisses both you and Juliette gently. “We have each other and right now that’s all that matters.”

***

“I never imagined it would be like this,” your voice wavers as you lie propped up by pillows in the dimly lit bedroom.

Charles, his fingers intertwined with yours, meets your gaze. “Neither did I.”

The weight of all that’s transpired hangs heavily in the room. The joy of Juliette’s arrival is marred by the pain and loss you both feel.

“I feel ... incomplete,” you admit, tears forming in your eyes. “Like a part of me is missing.”

“I wish I could take away the pain,” Charles responds. “If I could trade places with you, I would in a heartbeat.”

You squeeze his hand. “It’s not your burden to bear. But it’s … hard. I wanted to give Juliette siblings, the big family we always talked about.”

Charles leans in to rest his forehead against yours. “We still have a family. We have each other and we have Juliette. We can still have a full, beautiful life together.”

You sigh, “But do you ever wonder why? Why us?”

He hesitates, searching for words. “Every day. Sometimes, there’s just no answer, only a path forward.”

You curl into him, drawing comfort from his warmth. “What does our path forward look like?”

Charles pulls back, looking deep into your eyes. “It’s filled with love, with hope. We heal together. We face challenges together. And we build a future together. No matter what.”

“I’m scared.”

He brushes away your tears. “So am I. But we have each other and that’s a pretty good place to start if you ask me.”

***

“She smiled, Charles! Did you see that? Juliette smiled!”

Charles rushes over and peers into the crib with gleaming eyes. “There it is! That little grin,” his voice is filled with wonder. “Our little miracle has the most beautiful smile. Just like her mother’s.”

Juliette, seemingly aware of the shared happiness in the room, gurgles softly, her small fingers reaching out to grasp a lock of Charles’ hair.

You watch them, a gentle smile playing on your lips. “She brings us so much joy. It’s amazing.”

Charles nods, his eyes never leaving Juliette’s face. “She’s our light in the darkness.”

Leaning over, you press a soft kiss to Juliette’s forehead. “I’m so thankful for both of you.”

He shifts closer, resting his head against yours. “You know, mon amour, I’ve been thinking ...”

You turn to him, curiosity piqued. “About what?”

He takes a deep breath. “About our dreams. I know it’s not what we originally planned but what if we consider adoption?”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, love and hope blossoming. “Adoption?”

Charles smiles warmly. “Yes. We’ve always dreamed of a big family. And there are so many children out there who need a home, who need love. We can give a child all of that and more.”

Tears well up in your eyes but they’re tears of joy and gratitude. “That’s a beautiful idea.”

He leans in, pressing his lips to yours gently. “Our love knows no bounds. The path to our dreams may not be as simple as we once imagined but we will get there, one step at a time.”

***

Charles’ phone buzzes with an incoming call in the early hours of the morning. Seeing a familiar name flash across the screen, he answers immediately. “Don Pietro? Is everything okay?”

“Charles, you need to come to Maranello. Both of you. As soon as possible.”

Charles exchanges a puzzled glance with you. “Is something wrong?”

“Just come,” Don Pietro insists, “and bring your wife. I believe there is a miracle waiting for you.”

The drive to Maranello is filled with anticipation. Your mind races with possibilities, questions whirling in a tornado of confusion and hope.

Upon arriving at the church, you’re met with the sight of the elderly priest holding a tiny bundle. The baby, with soft tufts of hair and eyes wide with curiosity, looks up at the two of you.

“This,” Don Pietro begins, “is Enzo. He was left on the steps of our church last night. And the moment I held him, I thought of you two.”

Charles’ eyes widen. “Enzo ... like Ferrari?”

Don Pietro nods with a soft chuckle, “It’s as if the universe is trying to tell us something.”

You reach out, taking the infant into your arms. Enzo’s little hand wraps around your finger, his eyes meeting yours. The connection is instant, like two souls recognizing each other.

Charles’ voice is thick with emotion, “It’s as if he was meant to be with us. A sign, maybe?”

Don Pietro smiles warmly, “Perhaps a nudge from above, reminding us that miracles happen when we least expect them.”

Tears spring to your eyes, the weight of the moment overwhelming you. Charles is equally moved, his eyes glistening and lips trembling.

“We talked about adoption,” he murmurs. “But this ... this feels like fate.”

Don Pietro nods. “He needs a family, love, and a home. And I believe you two can give him that.”

As Charles takes Enzo from your arms and cradles him close, a bond that goes beyond words quickly forms. You lean in, touching Enzo’s chubby cheek, your heart swelling with love.

The moment feels destined — a new piece seamlessly fitting into the puzzle of your family.

***

“Look at that, Julie and Enny! Those cars go vroom vroom,” you point out with a smile playing on your lips as the roar of engines fills the air.

Juliette’s eyes widen in awe, her tiny hand pointing excitedly. Beside her, Enzo claps his hands, giggling. “Vroom!” He mimics.

Charles, his racing suit on, kneels to their level. “Would you like to see papa’s car up close?”

Both children nod eagerly, their eyes sparkling.

As you make your way through the paddock, team members and other drivers stop to meet the kids. “Look at these future champions!” Exclaims one of the engineers, ruffling Enzo’s hair.

Juliette, ever the social butterfly, giggles and offers a shy “Hello.”

Reaching the Ferrari garage, the team breaks into smiles. “Looks like Charles brought his lucky charms today,” someone comments, causing a round of chuckles.

“Ready for a photo op?” Charles grins, lifting Juliette into the driver's seat as you follow suit with Enzo, placing him right beside his sister.

They look so small in the cockpit, faces full of wonder. “Beep beep,” Juliette laughs, pretending to steer.

“Future Ferrari driver right here,” Charles beams.

As the team gathers around, cameras flashing, you take a moment to soak it all in. The laughter, the joy, the memories — this is what life is about.

“There were times I thought this day would never come,” Charles whispers to you, his arm wrapping around your waist. “Our family here, all together.”

You squeeze his hand, tears of happiness threatening to spill over. “Our dream is now … and it’s only just beginning.”

***

“Henri and Helaine, look it’s your sister!” You cheer, pointing to the massive screen as Juliette’s Ferrari speeds past, making your young twins cheer and clap clumsily in excitement.

Charles grins as an orange blur follows shortly, “And Enzo’s not far behind. What a race!”

The atmosphere in the paddock is electric. Red for Ferrari, orange for McLaren, the colors of a family divided by teams but united by love.

Suddenly, a microphone appears as a familiar reporter approaches. “A quick word for the fans? It must be a thrilling day for the Leclerc family!”

Charles grins, adjusting his half-Ferrari, half-McLaren cap. “Oh, absolutely! We couldn’t be any prouder. A bit of sibling rivalry never hurt anyone, right?”

You laugh, nodding in agreement. “We’ve always said, as long as they’re safe and enjoying themselves, that’s what matters. Though,” you add with a playful wink, “I always wear both colors, just in case!”

The reporter chuckles. “And the young ones? Future racers in the making?”

Henri, with all the innocence of childhood, pipes up, “I wanna go vroom too!”

Helaine nods rapidly. “Me too! Super duper fast.”

You and Charles exchange a glance in amusement. “Well, there you have it,” Charles says with a smile. “Looks like the tracks will be seeing Leclercs for many years to come.”

The race ends with both Juliette and Enzo clinching a podium finish. The celebrations are loud and filled with joy, but for you, true happiness is seeing your family — past, present, and future — come together just like you always dreamed.

[justmeinadaze]

Little Girl Gone Part 4 (Steddie X You)

Warnings: Officer Steve harrington/ Gangster Eddie munson & Doctor fem submissive Y/N, SMUT, degrading, some spanking, LOTS of dirty talk, handcuffs, slight overstimulation, after care of course.

ANGST, Jason causing problems before the meeting with his dad. Mentions of explosions and shooting. Eddie being sexily intimidating <3, Steve's dad makes a cameo and undermines the readers profession like a dick. Slight cliffhanger ending...I guess. Idk lol

Word Count: 5993

Last Chapter Here

“Last chance, sweetheart. Are you sure you want to do this?”

Your hold on Eddie’s arm tightens as you exhale out your nerves. This entire week had been rough not just on you but them as well. You were ready for it all to be over so you could just enjoy being with the new men in your life. If this is what you needed to do for that to be done so be it. 

“Yeah, I’m sure.” 

As you smile up at him, he leans down to kiss your lips making you laugh as you quickly wipe away the lipstick that lingered on his mouth.

Both your demeanors hardened as the door to the venue was opened and Eddie led you inside. 

***

The gangster ran into the hospital room with you trailing behind, glancing at the chart that was attached to the wall as Steve stood by Chrissy’s bed side. 

“What happened?!”

“Witnesses say they don’t know. Just, suddenly, her store was fire.”, the officer relayed with a sigh. “It’s all gone, Ed.”

“It says here she should be fine…physically at least.”, you add as your sad eyes shift towards the unconsciously girl in front of them. 

“We-we can rebuild her store. That won’t be an issue—”

“EMS found a note pinned to her sweater.”

Steve handed him the slightly charred piece of paper that Eddie read aloud.

 “No, Kiddo, this moment…this is me at my most masochistic.

Three.”

“The fuck does that even mean?”

“It’s a quote from Kill Bill. Everything but the three. I don’t know what that means.”, you answered, trying to hide the fear and worry.

Placing his hands on his hips, Eddie begins to pace. 

“I really think you two should stay in my apartment until we get this resolved.”

“You and I both know I can’t do that.”, Steve murmurs as his face scrunches in thought. “And we both know she’s not because of her patients.”

A knowing smirk flashes along your features as you shrug. 

“I don’t like this. I still think—”

“I know what you think, Ed, and I’m telling you no.”, the officer cut him off. “You already went and attacked him once and look what’s happening.”

“I feel weak, Steve. Like I’m letting him get away with this bullshit.”

“You’re not weak. If anything, he’s weak for reacting this way.”, you respond as you wrap your arm around his waist and in response he kisses your forehead. 

“I just… I’m still going to have some of my guys watching over you two. Y/N, Gareth will be in the clinic with you and Steve, Jeff can linger out of the way so he isn’t seen.”

######### 

“Jesus, ALL of Hawkins High Society is here.”, you murmur as you two enter the garish ballroom style area where extremely well-dressed people had gathered. 

Eddie had taken you shopping and bought you a beautiful (expensive) red evening dress that flowed to your ankles but had a slit up to just below your hip. He had bought you some equally expensive jewelry to match except for the bracelet around your wrist. 

“I know it’s not as lavish as what Tony Montana here got you but I saw it in the store and it made me think of you.”, Steve blushed as he hooked the bracelet to you and spun it around. It was a simple silver chain but in the middle was what looked like a heartbeat reading you see on ECG machines at work. “Since you, ya know, stole the other half of my heart.”

“Wow, Steve Harrington. That was smooth.”, Eddie chuckled. “Um, here. Here’s MY other half as well.”, he grinned softly as he slides one of his rings onto your finger. 

“Yeah like you said before, ‘rich people trying to make themselves feel better.’.”

Eddie insisted you both should stand out so not only would people see you together and know you’re his but it would draw the eye of Mr. Carver so he’d hopefully come talk to you two. His suit matched your outfit with a red button up but every other piece on him was a crisp black that made him seem even more handsome. 

While your hair was down around your shoulders, his was up and pulled back so you could see his face a bit more. Occasionally during the car ride, you would lean over and kiss his cheek just because you could making him beam over at you as he squeezed your hand. 

Leading you to the bar, he ordered you both a glass of champagne making you giggle as you watch him chug it down and ask for another. 

“Nervous?”

“Uh a little but not for the reason you might think. I’ve never met Steve’s parents. I’ve heard stories and of course they don’t know about us but for some reason I still want them to kind of like me.”, he playfully winces making you laugh harder. 

“That’s normal, baby. You love him so you want them to like you; to approve.”

Grinning in your direction, Eddie leans down to kiss your cheek while you were taking a sip from your glass.

“What was that for?”

“I’m just so glad we met you. I wish it was under different circumstances but—”

“One bourbon, straight, please and thank you.”, Steve sighs heavily as he leans over the counter waiting for his drink. “My parents are on their bullshit tonight.”

“I’m sorry, honey.”, you whisper with a smile as he thanks the bartender again and knocks back his drink. 

“Steven, I thought you were bringing everyone back something.”, a man practically whined as he came up behind him. 

“I was. Dad, this is Dr. Y/N Y/L/N and—”

“Edward Munson, sir. Nice to meet you.”, Eddie greeted as he enthusiastically extended his hand for him to shake. 

As the officer turns to grab the drinks and hide his smirk, you subtly bumped him with your hip.

“Hm. I’ve heard your name around town. Very prominent young man. What do you do exactly?”

“Management you could say sir.”

“And you young lady? Are you a real doctor or just one of those professor types?”

“Um, I own my own clinic and treat patients.”

“Oh yeah? Where?”

“It’s Hawkins Virtue Clinic on the lower west side.”

“Ah on the crime riddled side of town where people can’t even afford napkins from a restaurant let alone healthcare.”

Your gaze shifts to Steve who tilts his glass towards you in a cheer gesture with a little smile as he knocks back its contents. 

“I guess you could say that. That’s why I don’t charge them more than they can afford.”

“How do you make money then?”

“It’s not always about money. For me, all that matters is people can live long healthy lives.”

“Not in Hawkins, honey, but it’s a cute dream. Come on, Steve, your mother is waiting.”

“I’ll see you peasants later.”, he teases as he winks and follows his father. 

“Well, that was a good test run.”, you joke as you turn to face Eddie. 

“Yeah, hopefully George isn’t that cynical.” 

#############

“Thank you for keeping an eye on me these past few days.”, you beam at Gareth as you both walk to your car. 

“Of course. It’s actually been oddly exciting. I learned that green is never really a good color especially on or IN your skin unless its vegetables, obviously.” He grins when you laugh. “I also learned that sick kids are VERY loud and nurses deal with way too much. 

“They really do. I try to give them raises as much as I can to show my appreciation but it’s hard with my lack of funds.”

“I’m sure Eddie could help if you asked.”

“Oh, no. I couldn’t impose.”

Your guard paused, holding his arm out to stop you as well.

“Stay here.” Drawing his gun, he slowly walked forward towards your car, scanning the interior and around the side. Noticing a note tapped to the door handle, he carefully pulls it off and reads the contents before his wide eyes meet yours. 

“Y/N RUN!”

As he starts sprinting your way, you suddenly feel heat and a strong wind that knocks you off your feet as your car explodes.

***

Eddie’s tires skid as he slams on his breaks when he arrives at your clinic. Bypassing all the fire fighters and EMS, he entered the building hunting for you. 

“What happened?! Baby, are you alright?”

Silently, Steve grabbed his partner’s arm and dragged him off to the side. Digging into his pocket, he handed Eddie the note that was taped to your car.

“I'm not gonna kill you. Your job will be to tell the rest of them that death is coming for them, tonight. Two.”

“I looked it up, it’s a quote from another movie involving revenge. And I’m assuming—”

“He’s counting down.”, Eddie interrupts. “I’m going to fucking kill that son of a bitch.”

“No, hey. We have a plan, remember? Right now, she needs you.”

After coming back around the corner, Steve shoos the EMS people away as he sits beside you in your waiting area with his pencil and pad pretending to take your statement while the gangster takes a seat on your other side. 

“Princess, look at me. Are you ok? Did you get hurt?”

“Uh, no. Gareth, he, um, he did though.”, you respond as your tear-filled eyes meet his. “I tried to do what I could, Eddie. H-He was badly burned. I-I-I don’t have stuff here for those kinds of burns.”

Tilting you against him, he presses your head to his chest as you sob.

“EMS said that he will most likely be ok and if you hadn’t been there he would have died. Honey, you saved him.”

“H-He saved me, Steve.”

“You’re both staying with me. No arguments.”, Eddie announced as you nodded.

“I have to go in and fill out my report—”

“Steven…”

“I know, I know. I’m probably next but there’s nothing I can do, Eddie. I have to go in and do this. Plus, I have Jeff and a station full of cops. I’ll be ok.”

############

“I’m going to go smoke a cigarette, sweetheart, ok? Don’t go far.”

You nod as you watch him reach into his pocket and pull out his pack as he disappears out on the nearby patio. Glancing at all the people around you, you suddenly feel extremely isolated completely unsure of what you should be doing. 

“Don’t let them see you crumble.”, an older man chuckles as he steps closer to you. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I know what it’s like to walk into this sea of rich people and feel completely out of place. When my father and I moved here, we had nothing but a few pennies in our pocket but he knew how to finagle. Networked his way to his first 100K and used that to start an empire.”

“That’s amazing. My, uh, my grandparents were the same. They said personality goes a long way in any business. My grandma opened a tutoring center on the east side and helped so many underprivileged kids go on to college. My dad thought she was ridiculous. ‘You’re barely making ends meet, ma!’”, you roll your eyes.

“Ah, one of those.”, the man smiles. “I inherited my father’s company and then gave it to my son. Did your grandmother do the same?”

“Oh, no. She got sick pretty early on in her life and I moved in with them to help take care of her. It’s what actually sparked my interest in medicine. I’m a doctor and I run my own clinic, Hawkins Virtue.”

“Oh! I’ve heard of that place. You help a lot of people who are struggling.”

“I try.”, you grin, happy to meet someone who seems to genuinely find interest. 

“Do you need funding? I’d love to come by and see what you do.”

Shifting your gaze, you notice Steve watching you intensely from beside his parents.

“I would like that very much. I’m Dr. Y/N Y/L/N.”, you introduce as you offer him your hand that he takes and kisses the back off.

“George. George Carver.”

***

Steve sighs as he heads out of the police station to go home. Placing the ear bud in his ear, he taped his phone to immediately call Eddie. 

“What’s going on?? Are you alright?”

“Yeah, babe. I’m fine. I’m on my way now.”

“Ok, stay on the phone with me till you’re almost here.”

“Heh. I love when you get protective.”

Eddie listens to every footstep with anticipation as the officer heads towards his car.

“You’re my Paladin, babe, but I’m the Master. I can take care of you to.”

“You’re such a nerd.”, he chuckles, pausing at the sight of the note on his windshield.

Trying not to startle his boyfriend, he carefully removed it as he backed away from his car.

“Killing's got to be accepted. Murder was the only way that everybody stayed in line. You got out of line, you got whacked. Everybody knew the rules. One.”

Something suddenly whizzed passed him, shattering his driver’s side window.

“Fuck me.” As soon as he hit the ground, multiple rounds of gunfire went off around him. Steve could barely hear Eddie in his ear as he crawled behind a nearby vehicle and waited.

“STEVEN! ANSWER ME GODDAMN IT!”

“I’m ok! I’m ok!”

Pointing his gun towards the car, he fired a few rounds before it disappeared around the corner. 

***

Eddie paced as you cleaned the cuts on Steve’s hand he had received from all the glass on concrete. The gangster was on edge since he had to wait for police to scope the scene and take the officer’s statement. 

“Fucking asshole. Steve, I’m sorry but I can’t let this slide. Two of my friends are in the hospital and he almost killed you two.”

“No. He wants to kill us in front of you remember. This was just to toy with you and us.”

“I don’t like the casual way you said that.”, Steve teased as he pokes your nose with his free hand. 

“Excuse me. Not a joke here!”

“You’re right, baby. Talking with his father won’t be enough. He crossed a line but we need to focus on this first to keep Y/N safe. After we handle that, then we can handle him.”

“I may have an idea that won’t upset his father IF we get that approval and will get your message across.”, you announce as they give you their attention. 

############

“Mr. Carver.”

“Ah, Mr. Munson or should I saw Edward. We don’t want to confuse you with your father now do we?”, the man laughs light-heartedly as your gangster circles a protective arm around you. “Do you know Dr. Y/L/N here?”

“Oh, please, sir. You can call me Y/N.”, you beam trying to remain as calm as possible.

“Yes, sir. I met Y/N when she saved me from a nasty wound I got. I had heard of all the things she’s done for the community so, of course, I had to get to know her better.”, he grins as he pulls you closer.

“That ‘nasty wound’ wouldn’t have been inflicted by my son per chance?” Eddie stiffened a bit beside you as the man gave him a once over. “Yeah, I know you and Jason don’t get along but that doesn’t give you the right to invade his turf and kill his best friend.”

“If I may, Mr. Carver, is there a private place we can talk?”

“No, you may not. Whatever is going on between you and him doesn’t involve me. You two are in charge now. Handle it.”

As he starts to walk away, you reach out to grab the man’s bicep.

“Please, sir. So many innocent people have gotten hurt just in this week alone. Your son is throwing a tantrum over something he started and is upset because Eddie didn’t let it go like his father used to. Please, just listen to what he has to say. We don’t want anything in return or anything like that. Just…listen.”

Jason’s father sighs as he glances you over.

“You would even decline the generous donation I was thinking of giving to your clinic? That’s a lot of funds that could help a lot of people.”

“This will help more.”

At your sentence, he blinked and stood up straighter. 

“Ok. Ok, Mr. Munson. Let’s talk.”

***

Jason exhaled as he took off his tie and laid his gun on the kitchen counter with his keys as he headed towards his living room. 

“Long night?”

“Jesus Christ, dad!”, the man jumped as he clutched his chest. “You scared the shit out of me. What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing. I thought you were going to the fundraiser event tonight.”

“I was busy.”

“I hope you weren’t busy with anything involving the Munson crew.”

As his father rose to his feet, Jason stood up straighter.

“I told you. That asshole killed Andrew—”

“After you broke into his girlfriend’s house and pulled a gun on him?”

“He killed Patrick and my friends!”

“AFTER you kidnapped his friend WHO IS A COP and beat him up! You stupid idiot!”, his dad growls as his son flinches. “What’s this I hear about you starting fires, blowing up cars, and doing shootings outside of a police station?! And leaving these moronic notes like this is some gangster movie!”, George shouts as he grumbles the papers he was given and tossed them his way. “This is not how we run our business, Jason.”

“Edward Munson needs to be taken out.”, he seethes. 

“Edward Munson will be left alone and so will his crew. That includes Steve Harrington and Y/N Y/L/N. Do you understand me, son?”

“Are you kidding!? He just gets away with killing my friends?!”

“BE GLAD I DON’T KILL YOU! Sit down!” Jason cowers at his father’s anger as he sits on the couch. “If you weren’t my son, I’d have gotten rid of you for how sloppy you’ve been. That being said you still need to understand that there are consequences to your actions.” Looking past him, George addresses the darkness behind his son’s ear. “He’s all yours.”

Something sharp stings the gangster’s neck as his world begins to spin. 

“I trust whatever you come up with, Mr. Munson, the punishment will fit the crime.”

As you and Eddie come into view, Jason’s world goes dark.

#################

“Good morning, sunshine.”, Eddie jests as Jason’s eyes flutter open. “I wouldn’t wiggle too much if I were you. The view up here is pretty great but not when you’re falling down eight stories.”

The rival gangster’s eyes finally adjust to see the other man in front of him with you and Steve on either side. He tried to move but soon realized he was bound to a chair with duct tape over his mouth, completely at your mercy as he was perched near the edge of a tall building. 

“You know, I’m a fan of movies myself. The one thing my father and I could connect on was The Godfather trilogy. Did you ever see those, Jason?” The man’s only response is trying to tug at his restraints. “No? That’s ok. The third one is utter garbage but that second one. Oof…so good. There’s one line in there that always stood out to me. ‘Chiedi di me ai tuoi amici del quartiere. Ti diranno che so come ricambiare un favore.’”

Stepping forward with his hands in his pockets he continues. 

“It’s Italian. ‘Ask your friends in the neighborhood about me. They'll tell you I know how to return a favor.’”

The rival gangster’s eyes widen as Eddie kneels to his level, balancing on his heels as he speaks to him again is a soft tone laced subtle venom.

“You crossed a line, Carver. If it were up to me I would have killed you and your entire enterprise after hurting Steve and threatening Y/N. After the stunts you pulled this week, I almost did. You can thank this young lady here for talking me out of it.”

Jason’s eyes flick to your angry ones before looking at the other man again. 

“She also suggested we talk to your father which was a brilliant idea. He’s very levelheaded and kind of funny. Right, guys?”

“Hysterical. He thought what you did at the police station was so amusing he recommended I take you in and throw you in a cell with Allen since you miss him so much.”, Steve quipped with a smirk. 

“After blowing up my car and breaking into my apartment, he thought I should use some of things I learned at medical school as a punishment. Oddly enough, castration was the first thing to came to his mind. I told him I didn’t think you had any balls to remove since you were acting like a five-year-old.”, you add making Eddie’s smile widen. 

“He also suggested we make the punishment fit the crime thus you’re ours for the next week, buddy!” As the gangster lightly taps his face, Jason starts to cry. “But, Carver, I’m not going to do that. Do you know why? I’m not my father and I’m not like you. I don’t kill for pleasure and I don’t like hurting people. I want this to stop. But make no mistake…” Eddie reaches for Jason’s throat and squeezes it between his ringed fingers. “If you ever threaten or hurt these two again or even fucking think of coming on to my side of Hawkins, I will burn your side to the ground and make you regret ever being born let alone taking your father’s mantle. Am I being clear?”

Ripping away the tape his lips, the gangster squeaks as he continues to cry. 

“Yes! I understand. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Eddie.” After tapping his cheek again, Eddie turns taking your hand in his as you three head for the door to leave the roof of the building. “Hey! What about me?!”

“Oh, we’ll call the building super in the morning. Just…don’t lean back.”, Steve answers with a sarcastic thumbs up as the door closes behind him.

##################

You giggled in Eddie’s arms as he held you to him, kissing your lips with vigor as he carried you up the stairs with Steve trailing right behind. 

“You…are…amazing.”, he cooed between each breath as he fell with you onto the bed. 

“You really are.” Steve added as he threw himself beside you and began sucking on your neck. 

Ringed fingers glided hastily up the slit in your dress, moving the silk blocking your core, and effortlessly pushed into your entrance, pumping in and out so quickly the sound of your arousal filled the room. 

“Fuck, Eddie.”

“You got me so hard, sweetheart, watching the way you took control talking to George. Jesus and in that beautiful fucking dress.” Your hand floated down to cling to his as his digits inside of you moved at a relentless pace. “I had to keep telling myself to focus because all I wanted to do was push you against that wall and fuck you till you couldn’t walk straight.”

Steve gripped your chin turning you so your lips could meet his as the gangster’s head fell into the nook between your head and shoulder. 

“You’re a bad girl now, baby. OUR bad girl.”

“Tr-treat me like one.”

The officer chuckled at your needy tone as you panted into his mouth. 

“Yeah? You want us to show you how bad girls get treated?”

“P-Please…please. Fuck I’m gonna cum.”

“Ask nicely, Y/N.”

Leaning your head against the gangster’s, you murmured consistent pleas, begging for relief that he granted as the coil snapped and you practically screamed his name. Offering his fingers to his partner, Steve licked them clean before leaning over you so their lips could mingle together. 

After digging in one of his drawers, Eddie produced some handcuffs and passed them over to Steve who took hold of your wrists restraining you to the headboard. 

“These are my own set so they should feel more comfortable on your skin than his steel ones.”, Eddie grinned as he kissed your lips.

“Babe, you forgot to take off her dress.”

“Fuck, silly me.” Grabbing the slit in the fabric, he yanked it apart tearing it up the middle till it split in half and fell away. “There we go.”

“No bra, honey? Definitely bad girl behavior.”

“Eddie told me not to wear one.”, you whine as Steve’s gaze shifts his way. 

“What? I like her tits. Sue me.”

While Eddie removed his suit, the officer yanked down your panties and tossed them onto the floor while he kissed your lips. 

“I bet you want to suck my cock, don’t you dirty girl?”

“I do. Please.”

“I like that. Keep beginning me like that.”

Jumping back into bed, the gangster took hold of one of your legs and lifted it over his shoulder before guiding his cock into your entrance.”

“Oh my god.”

Fingers circled tightly around your neck as your eyes met Steve’s anger filled ones. 

“I said beg me for my dick, little girl.”

“P-Please, Steve. I wanna—fuck, Eddie—I wanna choke on your cock. Please! I need it!”

Quickly, he unbuckled his belt and shimmied down his pants enough to free his length, allowing it to hover over your lips. 

“Tap three times loudly if you need to stop, ok?”

“Yes, yes sir.”

“Oh, look at that, Eds. Little girl found her manners.”

Eddie smirked as he continued to slam his hips into yours at a rough pace, his thick fingers digging into your thigh as he used it for leverage. 

Opening your mouth, you prepared for some the things they had been teaching you. Flattening your tongue you waited, mewling when he finally gave you what you were begging for. As his cock slid down your throat, his fingers tangled in your hair and you focused on the feeling as he slowly thrust his hips. 

“Good…good girl. That’s it. Shit, baby. That’s it. You’re almost taking all of me.” Feeling your body tremble, Steve holds you still, allowing you choke and gag around him as you cum. “Yes! You’re ok, baby. Just a couple more seconds.”

Tapping once, you signal you need air and he immediately pulls out to pet your head, murmuring praises as Eddie slows his rhythm to almost a complete stop as he caresses your leg comfortingly. 

“Good girl, honey. You did so fucking good. It took all my energy not to cum to but I want to cum inside your tight pussy, pretty girl. So beautiful. What color are we at, Y/N?”

“Green, baby. Green.”

At the word, the gangster lifts your other leg, pushing them together as he slowly thrusts his cock deep inside you. 

As your eyes roll back and you moan, Steve kisses away your tears before murmuring against your lips, “Do you still want my dick, baby girl? Do you want me to fuck your pretty little throat? Feel us both deep inside you. I wonder if I can feel myself here.”, he coos as he gently places his hand on your neck. “I know I can feel Eddie fucking you so good. Right, honey?”

His large palm trails down your skin till you feel him press on your lower belly making you whimper louder as your back arches and you tug on your restraints. 

“Yeah, he’s right here, nice and deep.”

Eddie grunts as his pace hastens, his partners words amping him up as Steve smiles. Lifting up on his knees once more, the officer holds his tip just above your lips, chuckling as your tongue needily reaches for him. 

“Don’t forget what we talked about. Tap if you need to breathe or stop, baby. I’m gonna fuck your throat hard, ok?”

“Y-Yes. Please—fuck—please.”

Sliding his dick into your mouth, your eyes squeezed shut as he did what he said, constantly hitting the back of your throat over and over as the obscene sound of you gagging and drooling filled their ears. Both men became almost feral at the noise, Eddie shaking the bed as he pounded into you and Steve tugging harshly on your hair while mumbling under his breath. 

“That’s it, little girl. Jesus. Your mouth feels so fucking good. Atta girl. Choke on my cock, you dirty little whore making a fucking mess. Mmm!”

Your legs abruptly hit the mattress as Eddie fell on top of you, wrapping his arms around your back as he rolled his hips into yours. The officer pulled back, stroking himself with his hand as he watched you both cum together. The gangster laid still trying to catch his breath as Steve reached down to play his hair.

“Fuck me. This pussy is too good.”, Eddie groaned as he sat up and lightly spanked your behind. “I’m glad it’s ours.” 

After pulling out of you, both men shared a passionate filled kiss as they switched places, Steve wiggling underneath you so your back was on his chest. While the officer ran his palms over your breasts and along your sides, Eddie took hold of his partners cock, spitting over the tip before running it between your folds, teasing you both as it grazed your clit. 

“Please.”, you whine.

Smirking, he did what you asked as the two of you groaned. Steve’s hands gripped your thighs, holding your legs open as he planted his feet into the mattress and thrust up into you. 

“Fuck.”

“God, sweetheart, I wish you could see you both from my angle.”, the gangster moaned as he watched his boyfriend’s cock disappear inside you as he stretched you open. “Fuck me. Stevie didn’t even have the patience to take off the rest of his clothes.”, he chuckles, faltering the man’s rhythm as Eddie tugs his pants that had been pooled at his ankles the rest of the way.

Dropping your legs, one of Steve’s hands pulled your hair back as his other roughly kneaded your breast. 

“Move your hips.”, he growled as you mewled, trying your best to bounce and roll your waist. “Harder, little girl. Make yourself cum again.” He continued to grumble with a rough tone in your ear, commanding you to move faster repeatedly while smacking your tits with his palm. Screaming his name, you stopped moving as your body shook against him and you pulled hard on the cuffs above you. “Atta girl. Fuck, I can feel your pussy quivering around me. You’re gonna give me one more and I’m gonna cum with you.”

“I…I can’t.”

“Color, princess?”, Eddie whispers as he presses his nose to your cheek. 

“Green.”, you mumble as the tears stream down your face. 

“Yeah? Fuck you look so beautiful like this with your make up running down like this. Fuck, baby. You can do it. You can give us one more.”

Steve starts moving again with purpose knowing he won’t last long and you most likely will spent after this. After licking his fingers, the long-haired man places them on your clit, rubbing circles into your nub as your sweaty head leans back while the other man clings to your waist.

“There you go, Y/N. Come on, baby! One more. You can do it!”, Eddie encourages, both men moving so fast you don’t even realize it’s coming till your orgasm hits you like a freight train. “Good girl! Good fucking girl.”

Circling his arms around you, Steve’s pace becomes sloppy till you feel him warm your insides as he grunts in your ear. 

“Please…please…no…no more. I can’t.”

“No, sweetheart. You did so good. I’m going to uncuff you ok?” You nod as the gangster releases you from your binds and you wince at your sore muscles as you slowly bring your arms down. Steve carefully turns you both onto your side before pulling out of you, mumbling soft apologies as he tries not to hurt you. “Whenever you’re ready, we’re going to take a bath, ok? It will feel good on your body.”

After a few minutes of them smiling tenderly at you as they caressed and kissed parts of your skin, you signaled you were ready and Eddie lifted you into his arms as Steve ran the water. Doing what had become the norm, the gangster lit a cigarette as he sat behind you on the edge of the tub with his feet in the water as he began to clean you. What was new was when the officer pulled a wet wipe from a bag and kneeled beside you to clean your face.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, um, makeup remover. I bought it a while ago before all the bullshit happened for when you spend the night with us. Chrissy said this was a good brand for girl’s skin but if you have another just let me know.” It took him a moment to realize you two were staring at him with small smiles on your lips. “What? Hey, I’m a nice guy!”

“Yes, you are, pretty boy.”, Eddie coos sassily as he leans over to give him a peck as the man rolls his eyes. 

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

His eyes remain downcast as he throws it away and places the bag on the counter. 

“I know I don’t have to. I want to. WE want to…want you to be comfortable…and happy. Are you? Happy I mean.”

Tilting his chin, you kiss his lips as well making his smile grow. 

“I am happy. Thank you for everything. It means a lot to me.”

Eddie’s already prepared when you lean your head back to kiss his lips as well making you giggle when he lingers making a loud mwah sound. 

“Just because we settled the stuff with Jason doesn’t mean I’m out of danger does it?”

Both men freeze in place as they blink before Steve climbs into the bath in front of you and Eddie slides in behind you.

“No, it doesn’t. There’s always going to be people that want to challenge me and just because we scared Carver doesn’t mean he won’t fuck up again.”

“And like I told you before, now that people know you’re with Eddie, it may cause some ears to perk up with the police which may put more eyes on you than you’re used to.”

“But, sweetheart, we promise you we will do everything we can to keep you safe. I’d hurt or kill to protect you just like with Steve.”

“And, honey, I would hide evidence or lie to anyone in the department to protect you. Not just from people but any kind of jail time.”

“You’re ours, Y/N, and we will take care of you no matter what.”

You can feel their eyes penetrate you as your own remain off to the side as you absorb what they are saying. 

Gently, fingers grip your chin, turning you to meet Steve’s soft honey hues.

“You can still leave if you want to. We can come up with a story to explain the party if you still want to have some���semblance of normalcy.”

“Whoa. Steve Harrington is breaking out the big words.”

You laughed at Eddie’s joke as the officer narrowed his eyes in playful annoyance.

“I don’t want to leave. I…”

You want to say it so bad. You want to tell them that you love them. But it’s only been a couple of months and they’ve been together for almost a year. No. You don’t want to scare them away after everything they just did to keep you safe. No…

“I…I trust you both.”

When you flash them a smile both men grin back as Eddie hugs you against his chest and Steve kisses your forehead.

##############

@5tud10-54r4h @munsonzgf @eddiesguitarskills @supraveng

@lilaclazer @ima1986 @micheledawn1975 @foreverminliv @corkadymu

@lemme-slytherin-that-dick @joannamuns9n @dashingdeb16 @sashaphantomhive @corrodedcoffincumslut @aactuaaltraash @nailbatanddungeon 

[hawkheartt]

Can we explode them

“You know, I only really used these on Spider-Man, and he hated the things,” Olivia’s offhand remark is accompanied by the quiet snapping of an actuator, the claws just inches away from Lucielle’s face. She was sat like a queen on the dark steel chair that was usually reserved for much more unethical parts of her profession. Only a single tentacle was active, much of it was slung over Lucielle’s shoulders, and the open claw practically covered her face.

“Why wouldn’t he? He still can’t stand you,” Lucielle adds as she raises her hands to the base of the claw. Cool palms meet the colder metal bands, and she tugs the claw down to meet Olivia’s gaze just as the doctor rests her chin in her palm. The selkie gives a small smile before finally looking to her real point of interest, the machine. “How many times did you toss him around with these?”

Olivia hummed quietly, eyes narrowing as she thought, “Mmh… Maybe a dozen? I mean- At least,” Her added statement draws out into a low chuckle, one that makes Lucielle’s smile persist as she inspects the almost gear-like base of the connecting rings. After they finally established their relationship, Olivia was much more lenient with accepting Lucielle’s help. Beforehand, Olivia would say she had to the work herself to practice and pin down her mistakes; now, she’s more than happy to let Lucy pitch in with ideas- And in this case, to let her assist with tweaking the actuators.

“I don’t blame him too much, that must’ve hurt,” The mutant’s voice is just a touch quieter once she brings the tentacle closer. She brings her right hand back slightly, just so she can examine a small slit between layers. That’s what she was looking for, and Olivia can pinpoint the exact moment that sparkle appears in her eyes. The tips of her sharp nails slip in perfectly; the outermost gear-like layer disconnects with a small click, and she quickly grabs it with her other hand so it doesn’t slide down the tentacle.

The claw had malfunctioned that morning, it wouldn’t close fully, and thankfully Lucielle had a keen eye for anything her lover made. Olivia stays quiet for her, but she sits up in her seat, bringing her hand to fix her glasses as she watches intently.

There’s silence until Lucielle speaks up once more, “We must’ve messed up the assembly last time.” She slips the piece back in place, but not before adjusting her thumb to hold another ring of metal down. When they do fit, there’s a small click, and Olivia instinctively flexes the claw to test it out.

“Damn it…” The doctor mutters, resting her jaw back on her hand as she tugs the tentacle a bit more taut around Lucielle’s shoulder and twist the end of it like a wrist. “I must’ve done it too quickly, or focused too much on the other three,” She sounds like she’s talking to herself now, mulling over her mistakes like usual and causing Lucielle to raise a brow. “I probably just didn’t hear it when it didn’t click, and… You know.”

The doctor seems to deflate, taking a deep breath before rising from her seat and stretching her arms in front of herself. “I’m sorry, I really am.” With her position at Alchemax, she wasn’t really used to apologizing, or taking accountability, or even thanking people personally. But this was her girlfriend; she looks to the side, measuring the short distance between them before giving a small smile. Lucielle just listened to her spiel, still gently cradling a part of the tentacle and looking over it every now and then. When Olivia stops, though, she glances up with eyes like a doe.

Their eyes meet, and Olivia’s smile grows. The tentacle tugs closer, not wrenching itself out of Lucielle’s hands, but pulling her closer and causing her to trip slightly. “Do I really have to thank you? Don’t you technically work for me?” Olivia stretched her arm out and leaned to the side with her hand on the top of the chair. She points just above the hem of Lucielle’s shirt with her other hand, and her glasses slip a little when she leans her head down.

“Do I work for you? I thought this was just a favor!” The selkie teases, taking a moment to straighten herself as she talks. Even if all of her actions are accented with hints of nervousness, she’s more than happy to play along. Olivia just rolls her eyes and tightens the tentacle’s grip on the other woman’s shoulders. The claw darts out, brushing against her hands, and streamlining itself just to tap the tip of Lucielle’s nose. She sniffles quietly at the action, leaning back a touch as she tries to hold back her laughter.

“You’re in my office, and you did what I asked you too- And you’re getting something out of it!” Olivia shifts to stand at her full height again, gesturing widely at nothing in particular. “That should count as something,” The tentacle squeezes again at the end of her statement. “And I promise I’d never forget about payment.”

Olivia keeps the tentacle in its position, as it makes it far simpler for her to dip in for a few quick kisses, as well as finish off with one right on her lips.

[I’d love to write more but their days do consist of a lot of little things like this,, plus this has been sitting in drafts for a bit lol]

[mad-hatter-memes]

Ice Nine Kills: The Silver Scream Starters

A collection of dialogue prompts from the songs of Ice Nine Kills "The Silver Scream" album. Feel free to edit quotes as necessary.

TW: Swearing, threats, violent and gory references, suggestive references

The American Nightmare

"Rest your head, here's a lullaby."

"Welcome to your worst nightmare!"

"But I won't be forsaken."

"The beast has been awakened"

"It's fate that I'm still here."

They all think it's just pretend..."

"You'll never ever sleep again."

"All your friends are fucking dead!"

"You can't turn down your own deathbed."

Thank God It's Friday

"Throats get slit in this neck of the woods."

"You just scratched the surface of the curse of the [Location]"

"Thank god it's Friday..."

"Did you know my son drowned in this lake?"

"He should have been supervised. But the counselors were off having filthy sex!"

"His name was [Name], and today is his birthday..."

"Don't you know he'll never be gone for good?"

"We'll never get out of the woods..."

Stabbing in The Dark

"Oh doctor, can't you see...?"

"These are the devils eyes!"

"Your kids won't make it home tonight."

"I'll haunt you day after day..."

"I've carved up quite a scene!"

"You can't kill the boogeyman!"

"He is armed and extremely dangerous..."

"Shoot to kill. I repeat, shoot to kill."

"It's either you or some kid down the street"

"Trick or fuckin' treat!"

SAVAGES

"We're lethal liabilities 'till we die."

"Mess with the horns, and you get the devil!"

"You're not invincible."

"Stay on your side of the tracks, if you know what's good..."

"You won't make it out of our neighborhood."

The Jig is Up

"Morality takes casualties..."

"My blueprint to salvation shall breed a worthy generation."

"You want to play a fucking game?!"

"I saw through the selfish but saw no soul..."

"They're all just gears in my machine."

"They said they had a purpose, but they're losing their composure..."

"They said that they were grateful, but the jig is up..."

"Will you find integrity, when there's nothing left of me?"

A Grave Mistake

"Till death do us part came far too soon..."

"Buildings burn and people die all of the time."

"You can't save yourself or save your soul."

"Payback for what you took from me!"

"No forgiveness, just farewell."

"May you rest in pieces..."

Rocking the Boat

"Shark!"

"This is [Name], do you read me?"

"This is an official distress call, over."

"There's a monster lurking underneath!"

"I've got a fish to fry that's feeding on the weak."

"We're all just floating in a shallow grave."

"We'll compare scars with each other 'till our very last breath."

"The boat is under attack, it's a great white!"

"In fifteen minutes we'll be fucking shark bait!"

"Last chance to make amends, so try to stay afloat."

"We'll need a bigger boat!"

Enjoy Your Slay

"Going down, sir?"

"The writing on my walls will tell you how it's gonna be"

"Can't you see that you're just rats within my halls?!"

"To hell with hospitality!"

"Don't overlook the past..."

"If you need help finding peace of mind, don't hesitate to ask."

"We're here to help you on your way."

"Oh, I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm just gonna bash your fucking brains in!"

"Hey, [Name], come play with us..."

"I'll hit your whole bloodline!"

"Shall we tell old [Name] what he's won?"

Freak Flag

"We kept the pace, but we're done pretending."

"We're all messed up inside, and forced to act like everything's alright..."

The World in My Hands

"How'd I end up here?"

"I'm a stranger in this body..."

"The world's an ugly place..."

"I had to disappear, so it would all just go away..."

"The end is drawing near..."

"God I wish you would've stayed..."

"I almost held the world in my hands."

Merry Axe-Mas

"If you meet Santa Claus tonight boy...You better run for your life!"

"Don't ask for Santa's forgiveness..."

"You will believe in me."

"I won't leave a witness."

"So much for a "merry" Christmas..."

"So much for a "silent" night..."

"You're a slave to your vice."

"I'm gonna find out who's naughty or nice."

"[Name]'s taking out the trash."

"It's fucking garbage day!"

Love Bites

"The softer the skin, the sharper the teeth."

"It's tearing me apart..."

"It's us or them..."

"Call the nurse, cause it's worse when I'm alone..."

"I've fallen to a curse I can't disown..."

"Is it all in my head?"

"This is love I just can't live without."

"I'm counting on beauty to kill off the beast."

"You bit off more than you could chew."

"Now it's time to put me down..."

IT is the End

"Did you hear my circus was in town?"

"It seems I have your boat here..."

"Just reach your hands down here and take it!"

"Step right this way..."

"I'm at your service with a smile"

"I've got some big fucking shoes to fill!"

"Follow me and I'll show you the truth..."

"It's more than just a costume and red balloons."

"You know what makes me smile?"

"They say laughter's the best medicine!"

Your Number's Up

"I'm sorry sir, but I think you have the wrong number."

Tell me your name and I'll tell you mine."

"I wanna know who I'm looking at."

"Don't you know not to ask those questions?!"

"What will become of me?"

"You ought to know it's a sure death sentence!"

"Have you not seen this movie?!"

"I won't fall victim to the blade!"

"I wanna see what your insides look like..."

"How could you be so evil?!"

"Bitch, I'll leave your body on the cutting room floor!"

"All bets are off, I just buried [Name]!"

"Just let me go!"

"The call's still listed as unknown..."

[seralahbloodhaven]

The Ubiquitous Mister Brackwater

TW/CW: GRAPHIC smut for humorous effect? Unethical job interview

When one encounters the surly hand of Fate, one might wonder how far back its machinations extend. Was it the ad in the paper? But she would not have bothered to read it were her family not dead and she was alone, left to her own rather morbid devices. Did Fate take them in screaming agony just to set Seralah on this singular path? It would never be possible to say, but it would be pondered much later when, in the still watches, she would wonder if the price she paid was worth it. 

Lady Seralah Stellara Agatha Bloodhaven lived all alone in the sprawling Bloodhaven Manor in Eversong. The sole surviving member of her House, she lived as though she were in some strange fairytale. Oh, not the ones read to children to help them sleep, no. The ones that were dark, cautionary tales. Had Seralah not been rich, folk would likely think her far more menacing than merely eccentric. But because she had enough money and a good family name, her strange hobbies were not given the proper scrutiny. 

Rumors, being what they are, largely exaggerated her activities. Seralah was not doing blood sacrifices nor hosting ritual orgies in her mostly empty manor in Eversong. But that is what people thought and thus, friends quit calling and there were no more suitors. Only some of the rumors were true, and far less salacious. 

Regardless, the ensuing years left her lonely. Especially after her expulsion from the Alchemy Guild. Her life fell into dreary patterns of much the same every single day. Like the ghosts of her family that haunted the manor, stuck in a loop of repeating time, Seralah too felt she was trapped. 

Until she saw the ad in the paper. She met all the qualifications: she was an orphan, she would not be missed if she were to die, and she had an open mind. Finally, a way to the break the doldrums, something to change the loop she was in. 

The Doctor subjected her to a rather…intimate sort of examination, but Seralah had an open mind and as she’d never had any sort of employment before, so she assumed the strip search was common practice (it wasn’t). After, there was some kerfuffle hardly worth mentioning and she had the position as Doctor Heathcliff Dracone’s laboratory assistant and resident Master Alchemist! 

He put her atop his spectral steed and whisked her away and it all felt very out of focus. The world was suddenly cast in pastel smears and a sweet dreaminess settled over her as they rode away from Silvermoon. 

And because he had a vested interest in a certain famous pillowbook, Island of Depravity, he asked her to read from it. He wished to know all about Arothir Brackwater. 

And since, once again, Seralah had never before been employed, she didn’t find it irregular that her boss asked her to read erotic literature while they shared a saddle. 

She took up the book and looked quite prim sitting there, gazing down at the filth-filled pages. However, it was all quite unseemly. Heathcliff had a young woman in his employ with her pert bottom pressed against his groin, his arms caging her in as she began to read some of the most ribald and lurid things he’d ever heard. 

Seralah cleared her throat. “This is one of my favorite passages,” she told him with a look over her shoulder, eyes twinkling in mischief. 

“Arothir Brackwater slid his broad shoulders under Lady Lyriel’s plump thighs and used his rough, calloused fingers to pry apart the swollen, arousal slicked lips of her cunt,” Seralah said, her voice not wavering. She read not as one would a medical journal, not clinically. She read it as one might an exciting children’s adventure tale. Without any shame and all the enthusiasm. 

“As she whimpered in anticipation, he dragged his tongue up the seam of her slit until her thighs quivered and her hands sunk into his mussed, raven dark curls,” she went, stopping only to lick her leather-gloved thumb to turn the page. Slowly. She went on. 

“He devoured her quim like a man starved and only the slick, musky nectar of her sex could provide him any sustenance. He groaned into her pussy, his hand around his cock, pumping it furiously, the passage of his fist eased by how much his cock had wept for her already.” 

Her voice was so…chipper. She seemed delighted by every word! There was no hint of shyness and as she finished that passage, she laughed, a naughty little snicker. 

She went on, “His long, thick tongue speared into her tight entrance which had been desperately fluttering and clenching around nothing. Oh, she felt ever so empty, wanting only to be impaled upon his throbbing, drooling tumescence.” She shook with laughter. “Goodness, that bit is a tad overdone. Tumescence is not the most arousing word for cock, I should think.”

The ride ended with her nearly toppling out of the saddle and onto her face when her boot became entangled in the stirrup. Into his arms she’d crashed, far too comfortably and far too gently. They gazed at each other a little too long. 

And then a man fell from the sky. Which was the least interesting part of the day. 

Seralah was grateful when he stepped away and made no mention of the awkward moment. Though she’d never been employed, she doubted it was wise to flutter at one’s boss. 

And then the imposing castle comprised of ominous spires and mismatched architecture, threw open the doors, rolled out a violet carpet and showered her with rose petals. It was a most ostentatious and…odd way to be welcomed to her place of employment, but Seralah was charmed and delighted and falling right into the hands of Fate without realizing it. 

@wraheathcliff

[lucky-lady-clover]

OPEN ROLEPLAY STARTER

[Copied from a priv discord but yknow, its blank enough to work for anyone.. Pov, ur at the casino lol]

The night outside may have been cold and foreboding but inside the Ladybug? The atmosphere was anything but. Warm inviting; Bright lights both from the ceiling lights and the various game machines which lined some of the walls. The sound of chatter, laughter, shuffling cards and the oh so addicting sound of slot machines would fill your senses as you enter the grand building. One could almost forget it was run by a criminal.. Almost.

But here and now, That didn't matter. Not to Amelia. Here, She wasn't just Clover, She wasn't just a sidekick.. She was one of the main events. And god, did she love it. The air of excitement, the rush of possibility, anyone who stepped in here would certainly feel just how electric the patrons were.

Amelia did her usual rounds, Dressed in a cocktail dress with a generous cut in the front and a revealing slit at the leg, green fabric glittering underneath the multi-coloured lights which painted the room. She could see people drooling over her, men and women alike; And if not for her? Well, Her luck certainly did the trick for most. People would call her over, ask her to blow on their dice or lend them the luck at a poker game.. And she was more than happy to do so, for the attention she oh so craved.

She knew this wouldn't last forever, eventually The Riddler would need her help or maybe next time would be the Penguin and then she'd end up in Arkham, unable to visit her darling Ladybug for whoever knows how long til she either fooled the doctors to let her out or she'd escape. And so? Amelia didn't even bat an eye when she approached yet another group to idly watch them play, Drink in one hand and the other on her hip.

Her favorite part of this place? You could run into anyone. Because everyone was welcome. Heroes, Villains and Civilans alike.. So long as they play by the house rules, don't break anything and don't kill anyone on the premises.

Or if you're the Joker. He was instantly banned.

[ejzah]

A/N: What if Deeks was injured more significantly in “Free Ride”? Let’s explore that question in my Whumptober fic of the year. Ignore any medical inaccuracies.

***

Blunt Force

Kensi raced through the halls, pushing past crew in an effort to reach the man pushing the garbage bin. Sam rushed past her, tackling the guy, and the bin tipped over, Deeks spilling out in a limp heap.

“Oh my god,” she murmured, dropping in front of him. He’d fallen at an awkward angle with legs twisted beneath him and his head tilted to the side. She hovered over him, hesitant to move his head or neck if he had any injuries. Thankfully, she could see his chest rose and fall shallowly, but evenly.

“Deeks. Deeks, can you open your eyes?” Kensi asked, unable to control the shaking in her voice. Carefully, she slipped her left hand under his head and probed the back of his skull, wincing when she felt a prominent bump just below his crown.

“Kensi,” Sam prompted from behind her.

“He’s not responding at all. He needs medical attention.” She smoothed his hair back with the tips of her fingers. It scared her to see him so still.

“I’ll alert the on-board medic and have Eric call in a med-evac,” Sam said, and Kensi nodded without looking at him, completely focused on Deeks.

***

Deeks woke with a pained grimace, instinctively tugging away from something tangled around his arm. Opening his eyes, he squinted against a bright flare of light, and after a few blinks, realized he was in a hospital.

Crap, he must have pissed off a defendant.

Wincing, fumbled at his nose and after a few tries, removed the nasal cannula, instantly feeling better without it scraping the inner tissue. With that out of the way, he took stock of his situation.

His head throbbed worse than the only time he got drunk in college and opening his eyes more than a slit made the pain spike and his stomach clench. He heard the door open, and lazily turned his head towards it, praying that whoever it was wouldn’t turn on a light.

Fortunately, the nurse who entered with a rolling cart of medical equipment kept the lights off and spoke in a low tone as she greeted him.

“Good to see you awake, Mr. Deeks. Let me just check your blood pressure and heart, and I’ll grab your doctor.”

As she placed the stethoscope on his skin, he noted the name tag displayed below her left shoulder.

“Tamara, what happened to me?”

She recorded his heart rate, wrapping a blood pressure cuff around his bicep. She offered him a smile. “I wish I could tell you, but you’ll have to wait for the doctor. You just rest for now.”

“You can’t even tell me how I bumped my head?” he pressed, turning up the charm as much as he could in his current state.

“Sorry, no chance, darling. I’ll come check on you in a little while. Maybe I’ll even bring you some jello.”

“Well, that is my favorite,” he commented with a wan smile. The thought of eating sounded awful right now.

Tamara left, and he leaned back, closing his eyes in a futile attempt to ignore how truly awful he felt. He let his thoughts drift to the last thing he remembered, but all that came to mind was something involving spinach.

The last case he’d worked involved a known drug dealer. No, a DV case. He rubbed his temples as his thoughts and memories ran together in a dizzying, confusing mess.

***

Kensi had been waiting for Deeks to regain consciousness for the better part of a day. He’d been through CAT scans, and MRI, and numerous other tests to ensure he didn’t have serious brain damage. So far they’d all come back with minimal signs of injury, which was a relief, but she wouldn’t breathe easily until he woke up.

She’d spent the morning pretending to read a book one of the nurses gave her—she hadn’t processed a single word of it—and staring at Deeks, silently pleading with him to wake up.

At lunchtime, the lead nurse had convinced Kensi to grab something for herself while she checked on Deeks. Kensi reluctantly agreed, running down to the vending machine rather than the cafe for a pop tart, which she ate cold before heading back to his floor.

As she stepped off the elevator, the nurse flagged her down. Kensi’s stomach sank and she thought she might be sick or faint as she rushed over to her.

“Agent Blye, Detective Deeks is awake,” she said, offering Kensi a smile.

“Oh my god,” Kensi whispered, pressing her hand over her mouth. “Is he ok? Did he say anything?”

“He’s conscious and responsive, but the doctor will need to examine him to know more,” she responded not unkindly. Kensi frowned at the vague answer and the nurse clarified, “It’s good news. Why don’t you go on in. Just remember to be gentle since he’s likely to be sensitive to light and sound.

“Of course. Thank you, Tamara.”

Kensi opened the door stepping into the dimmed room. Deeks turned his head, squinting at her through the slits of his eyes.

“Deeks,” she said, relieved to see him indeed conscious and apparently alert. “I’m so glad you’re awake. How do you feel?” She stopped at the side of his bed, resting a hand on his arm before removing it just as quickly.

He followed the movement with a confused frown. “Hi,” he said, voice throatier than usual. “I’ve been better. Have we met before? My memory’s a little shaky, but I’m pretty sure I’d, uh, remember a gorgeous brunette.”

Tilting her head, she gave him a measuring look, then folded her arms across her chest as she recalled the last time he’d been in a hospital bed. “Deeks, this isn’t funny. Stop messing around.”

“Believe me, I wish I was joking, but I don’t have any idea who you are,” he insisted.

“I’m Kensi. Kensi Blye,” she tried out of desperation. There wasn’t a hint of recognition in his eyes though. He stared back at her with a growing look of dismay, and licked his lips, lifting a hand to drag his hand through his hair before he apparently remembered it wasn’t a good idea.

“Well, this is new,” he muttered to himself. “I guess this explains why I can’t remember what I had for breakfast or my last case.”

He sounded so perfectly like her Deeks, his upper lip quirked in a half-smile as he stared up at her. He was as friendly as ever, but as he would be to a potential witness they met on the strange. Not his partner of three years.

She paced a few steps away, leaning against the nearest wall. “Ok, so what do you remember?”

Leaning his head back, he squinted as though the effort of thinking physically hurt. “Uh, my name is Martin A. Deeks. Most people call me Deeks, but some call me Marty. I am a public defender for the LA county court system and I like to surf,” he said, nodding as he said each point.

Kensi suddenly felt like her knees might give out, and she quickly grabbed onto the back of the chair next to her. Deeks hadn’t just forgotten her, but entire years of his life.

“Are you ok?” he asked, because of course even with a concussion and amnesia, he still picked up on her distress.

“Um yeah.” She awkwardly tugged on the hem of her shirt. How the hell did she break this kind of news to him. She supposed she could let his doctor handle it, but that seemed cruel. Not to mention, cowardly.

“I take it you know something I don’t. What exactly happened to me?”

Kensi inhaled deeply before she took the plunge. “Um, this is going to be difficult, but you were hit in the back of the head.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured that out from the pounding headache and ostrich egg sized bump. What else?”

Suddenly standing felt to impersonal for this conversation, so she pulled the chair up to the side of his bed, sitting on the edge with her hands folded tightly in her lap.

“Deeks, you are not a lawyer. Well, you are, but you don’t practice anymore. You’re a detective with the LAPD,” she told him.

He took the revelation remarkably well, barely showing any reaction other than a slight widening of his eyes and flaring of his nostrils.

“Wow, ok. That’s, uh, that’s unexpected,” he said on a breathy laugh. “What year is it?”

“2012.”

“Crap,” he muttered, rubbing both hands over his face.

Kensi looked away, uncomfortable with his distress. She wanted to comfort him somehow, but they didn’t do that. At least she didn’t. She dealt comfort in stilted words and pulled punches. Besides that, Deeks didn’t remember her.

“So this absolutely isn’t an elaborate scheme?” she checked one more time out of sheer desperation.

“Fraid not,” Deeks drawled, rubbing his chin with his knuckles. “Though that would be significantly more fun than laying in a hospital bed recovering from a concussion. with nothing to go on from the last 6 years.”

“I feel like I should say touché or something.”

He gave her an odd look at that, then huffed another laugh, lowering his eyes to his lap. “I guess you do know me.” He scrutinized her for a few seconds, squinting with obvious effort before he made a pained expression. “Are you a cop too?”

“I’m a federal agent.”

“Based on the fact that you’re talking to me, I’d guess I either did some really bad, or I work with you in some capacity,” he said. Of course his mind worked just as quickly as ever.

“You’re a liaison for my agency,” Kensi told him. “And we’ve been partners for the last three years.”

“Oh.” He blinked a couple times. “That’s unexpected.”

“Why?” It came out a little more defensively than she intended.

“I tend to get on people’s nerves. They say I talk too much, or it’s my hair,” he explained, then added with a touch of bitterness. “Or I don’t know how to leave well-enough alone. I’m a trouble-maker.”

It sounded like he was quoting someone, and Kensi winced a little at the memory of how she and the rest of the team had treated him his first several months.

“Well, it was kind of a rocky start,” she admitted. “But I have a pretty strong personality too.”

“That sounds like a story waiting to be told.” He shifted uncomfortably, squinting again. He looked paler than when she’d walked in.

“Maybe for another day.”

They were both silent for a few minutes, with Deeks looking increasingly less well. Eventually, he sighed, pushing himself up on his forearms.

“Can you help me get up?” he asked.

“I think you should wait until your doctor sees you. You probably have a serious concussion.”

“I want to see what I look like.”

“Don’t you think that can wait?” she said, completely perplexed by the unexpected request.

“Right now I’m working with the Marty Deeks of 2006. A lot could have changed since then,” he explained, shifting around with the obvious intent to get up with or without her help.

Giving a perturbed sigh, Kensi held up a hand before he could try to get out of bed himself. “Let me go ask a nurse if I can borrow one. And don’t even think of leaving that bed.” She gave him a severe look that hopefully had more effect than on an unconcussed Deeks.

It took a few minutes, but with the combination of her badge and the mention of Deeks—who apparently was popular from his previous stays—Kensi returned with a small hand mirror. Fortunately, she found him still in bed when she returned.

He had a small furrow between his eyebrows, his head turned towards the wall. Kensi faltered, once again unsure how to proceed. Last time Deeks was in the hospital, they’d had catching his shooter to focus on. Now, the way forward seemed far more nebulous.

“I’ve got the mirror,” she murmured. His head jerked at her voice, and he ran a hand over his face before turning to face her. She handed him the mirror wordlessly, watching as he positioned it in front of his face.

“Huh.”

“Not what you expected?” she asked, and he shrugged, eyes shifting back and forth.

“I guess I finally ditched the baby face,” he commented wryly. “Or maybe it’s just the beard.” He touched his jaw almost absentmindedly. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”

“Somehow I can’t picture you without a beard,” Kensi admitted. He’d always had some facial hair as long as she’d known him.

“Yeah. Shoulder length hair too.” Now his hand drifted to the matted hair at his cheek. “I’ve had it pretty long most of my life, but I grew it out in college and I keep it out of principal. Or I guess kept.”

His eyes took on that distant look again and Kensi guessed the full weight of the situation had finally hit him.

“Well, you can always grow it out again. If you want.”

He shook his head slightly in response. “I’m not sure it would fit anymore,” he murmured.

“Deeks, I—”

A firm knock on the door interrupted Kensi, though she had no idea what she would have said in an attempt to reassure him.

“Mr. Deeks, I hear you’ve rejoined the waking world,” his attending doctor, Dr. Lesley said. She nodded to Kensi before focusing her attention on Deeks again.

“Yeah. It’s been a wild ride so far,” he responded dryly.

“I’ll let you have a few minutes,” Kensi told him, hurrying out. Maybe she was a coward, but she couldn’t sit through Deeks finding out the full extent of his amnesia.

She headed for a restroom, locking herself inside. In the tiny room, she sank to the ground, and quietly sobbed, mourning the loss of everything she and Deeks had shared.

***

A/N: Part 2 to follow soon.

[zelphin124]

LCB-3 -> Canto 1: Chapter 11

This chapter did... not turn out as I expected it to...

Masterpost

Chapter 10 <--> Chapter 12

~o0o~

"His Demons under My Command lay waiting to strike my bidding. The dedication is astounding! I am blessed to be the King's Right Hand... I already have a project in mind with the revenant's return noted. The Burner of Surya will suffer every hell when I am through. I shall claim him, for our King."

Jekyll rolled her eyes before putting the new set of notes in the same pocket as the old scrolls. She goes on and on about the same thing…

Hyde herself was groaning in anguish. These are the flattest people I’ve ever met. 

Jekyll had left the altar after the mermaid flashed across the room another time. They picked up any notes that she could find, but none of them held any useful information. Every time Jekyll tried to go anywhere and dry off, the mermaid came so close to knocking her down it drenched her each second. 

The dripping sensation started to drive Jekyll insane. It’s like it wants us soaking cold and wet! Why not just hit us? 

You fool, that would damage us. It’s better to just be drenched in the waves it splashes. Let’s not get hit by a moving truck of water and slime. 

I thought you had a death wish. 

I’d rather go out in style. 

There were shouts on the other side of the room. Jekyll could recognize Mallo, Jatayu, and Mark’s voices shouting back and forth at each other. She couldn’t tell what they were saying from so far away, but she could tell the retorts weren’t necessarily friendly. She shivered in her boots; she hoped they wouldn’t lash out at her like she thought they were doing on each other. 

A bright light turns on in the distance, revealing another part of the room. Perhaps the rest of the party was working their way through the lights and fixing them. Jatayu was an engineer of P Corp, right? 

That’s what the drone lady said. 

Maybe he’s just fixing the lights and they are shouting to communicate… Jekyll forced her heart to give her party the benefit of the doubt. 

She turned her head to look behind her, spotting another water portal forming in her line of sight. She shuddered and stepped out of the way, hoping that she wouldn’t get hit by the massive mermaid flying across the room now and then. The simple sight of it terrified her; the doctor and the painter were both sick of walking in wet socks. 

There. Hyde pointed into the darkness, showing yet another disruption in the shadowy fog. Likely another note with more useless information. 

Jekyll heaved a sigh, taking a step towards the note and picking it up gently, unscrolling its purple fabric to read what it said. 

"However, we mustn't lose sight of our reasons for this return to the Home. We must procure the Treasured Relic, even at the cost of Q. Corp's ire...perhaps, that is the reason for the Chariot Breaker's Return. Perhaps, he knows the greatness we have stowed away here. Does he hunt for it?"

“Must be the golden bough,” Jekyll muttered to herself, placing the purple scroll with the others. She walked along the section of the room until she stumbled upon another button. She glanced curiously at it. Oh! This could be another light! Perhaps–

Wait. 

Hyde forced her hand back, resisting the urge to press it. Jekyll paused, very confused. Hyde, what the hell–

Do you see the small slots on the side of the box? Hyde pointed out the opened slits on the top corners of the box, able to fit a spider-leg through them. This button is also a different shade… it’s more yellow, more meek, it speaks of something alive rather than a simple machine of a dull gray. 

Jekyll didn’t notice the two different shades until Hyde pointed it out. She withdrew her hand, smiling softly. Your artist's eye finally came to good use. 

Has it ever not? 

The doctor sighed. …No, you… kept us alive this far… 

Hyde ignored her passive-aggressive tone and glanced into the darkness once more. There’s likely a button over there, try that one. 

Jekyll obliged and waddled over to the new button, examining it for the same slits in its corners and its shade of color. When she saw none, she gently rested her hand on the button. 

Nothing happened. 

Hmm… Jekyll tried looking at the box to look for any loose wires; which she discovered zero. Where is the engineer when you need him? 

The veteran? Hyde forced Jekyll’s head to peek into the darkness again. You should’ve followed his voice instead of getting distracted. I have questions to ask him, and now you need him to fix this light. 

Well, perhaps we can try it ourselves… Jekyll recommended. Do we really need the light on, anyway? 

Before Hyde could answer, there was a call in the air. Someone was calling Jekyll’s name, but it wasn’t one she recognized immediately. It was so casual… so… unusual. It rang through the air like a feather trying to cross a cavern. 

The doctor drew her paintbrush, readying for combat. Is it the mermaid? Did it learn my name? Is it trying to play a trick on us? 

For once, the painter did not answer her. 

Jekyll heard the voice call again; the voice approached her from the south with loud clanks across the floor. The figure walked rhythmically, much to the beat of Mallo’s foot pacing. Jekyll sighed in relief, and shouted with all her might, unable to tell how far Mallo truly was from her. “Mallo?” 

Mallo poked her head out of the shadows into Jekyll’s vision, plugging one of her ears and casting a glare toward her. “Ahh, there you are. Just wanted to make sure everyone in the group was alright, cause’ be and Jatayu went off, splitting up the party. Mark confirmed that Pen was by his side… did you travel with Lenore?” 

Jekyll stammered over her words, muttering over her own breath. “L-Lenore stayed behind to p-protect Dante.” She’s going to scold me, isn’t she? 

“So you went all by yourself?” 

No, I’m here. Hyde scoffed. You’re never alone, save when I want to leave you alone. 

Jekyll closed her mouth after she opened it to reply. There was a notable pause before she spoke again, adjusting her brush to rest behind her. “Well, I’m never really… by myself…” 

“You know what I meant,” Mallo adjusted her ponytail and narrowed her eyes, pulling out another cigarette. 

Seriously, where does she get all those? “Yes, I explored… by myself…” 

Mallo lit the cig and inhaled a part of it whilst keeping eye contact with Jekyll. She heaved a disappointed sigh. Letting out a puff of smoke. “I don’t know why you didn’t stick with one of us. This place could’ve been dangerous.” 

That’s the best part–

Not now, shut up, Jekyll snapped. We are a drenched puppy right now, making that argument will not help us. “Was the… non-verbal suggestion not to split up and cover more ground?” She asked in a gentle tone, trying to deflect what she thought was anger. 

“Yes, which was good,” Mallo flicked the end of her cigarette to get rid of the curling ash. “But it’s no use splitting up if we are dead.” 

Her lack of faith in us is despicable. Hyde spat, glaring at Mallo. I am not a force so easily snuffed. 

Mallo ignored the glare and continued to talk. “Did you at least find anything?” 

Before Jekyll could form a proper response, she blurted out a nonchalant “no” and sighed. Hyde! What the heck?!

We found nothing of importance, there’s no need to inform her of that. 

“Alright, well…” Mallo trailed off, believing the lie. “I found these, at least.” 

Jekyll took from Mallo’s hands three new scrolls of information. She unwinded each of them and read them carefully: out loud so Mallo could hear. 

"The Chariot Breaker will not claim this. If he does, our King will take notice of our failure today, and he will not take lightly. Alas, I am too busy within my workshop to be there to resolve the issue in person, and the higher leveled Demons were not available for this venture... Is it wrong to be more excited? To see the depths that the Burner of Surya will go to for whatever reasons he may fight for? I can already hear the screams of my Demons. The monsters are vicious. Let us see if they are enough. The one fish creature.. reminds me of our Master's Chariot.. surely, the bird is too weak to flap its wings once more.. then again.. he survived our King once. I will be eagerly hoping to see him break again, like that night we took the Star-to-Be."

Wonderful, Hyde smirked. This helps us with the other notes we found. 

Should we not tell her? Jekyll pleaded, feeling a knot of guilt tie up around her chest. She’s our teammate; we are supposed to work together. 

She doesn’t need to know, Hyde shrugged and smirked with glee. Information is not free. 

Jekyll sighed, not having the strength to say no to the painter. She moved her head to line up with Mallo’s. “Did you guys figure out anything else from these notes? Any cryptic messages, or what they could mean?” 

“The fish creature is the mermaid that’s been gliding across the floor. By the looks of it…” Mallo glanced at Jekyll’s coat dripping water from every side. “You’ve seen it already. I assume the Charior Breaker is… Jatayu?” 

Jekyll raised an eyebrow. Yes, and? 

“Look, I’m not the best at discerning cryptic messages. Whoever the person is, the one writing the notes… I don’t like what they are planning.” 

The altar came back into Jekyll’s mind, and she turned her head toward it. She couldn’t see it anymore due to the darkness, but everything slowly started to click. “The new era they talked about doesn’t sound nice…” 

“Hold on,” Mallo turned away from Jekyll, her back facing her. She cupped her hands around her mouth before shouting in the south direction. “Jatayu! Did you get that button to work?!” 

A faint voice replied; one that was clearly the veteran. It wavered amongst the darkness like a candle giving off light. “Not yet. Where are you? I… can try… to work?” 

Jekyll didn’t catch everything he was saying, but hearing his voice alive and well gave an odd sense of reassurance to her. 

Mallo turned to Jekyll and lowered her voice. “Did you find any button that might’ve been a light?” 

“Y-Yeah, one over there,” Jekyll pointed across her body with her opposite arm into the darkness. She turned and walked over to it, glancing towards the north wall. “This one?” 

Mallo started counting down the rows and columns of the room. “A, B, C, D… Jatayu, I got it! You have the wire plugged into I-3, right?” 

“Yes?” Jatayu faintly replied. 

Jekyll tried to see him in the darkness, staring in the direction his voice came. However, there was one very large object in the center of the room that disrupted the shadows and everything around it. What… is that? 

“Do any of the plugs say 2?” Mallo continued. 

The veteran called back in another faint voice. “No!”

Mallo cursed under her breath. “Is there one that says E?” 

“Yes!” 

“Try plugging that one in!” 

“Got it!” 

Jekyll glanced at Mallo. What the heck is going on–

“Jekyll, try pushing the button,” Mallo’s demand immediately interrupted Jekyll’s train of thought. 

Her hand rested firmly on the large red button before she pressed it down with precision. The moment she did so, the room suddenly lit up in all the directions of that light, revealing another section of the large floor plan. The red tiles on the floor became much more vibrant and silky under the light; they waved like the texture of the ocean. 

Jatayu was visible next to a large gray box in the center of the room, which appeared to be some sort of maintenance generator at first glance. Jekyll also spotted the mermaid in the light, getting a good glimpse of it. 

Although she had caught glimpses of it before, the picture in the doctor’s head was now complete. A large, blue-haired mermaid hovered in the red metal ground like it was water. Her hair flew like water and peeled against her flaky pink skin. The mermaid was armless, and her pink skin traveled all the way down to her silky green tail. Her eyes were large hearts with a sharp, white, cracked line between her pupils. It appeared as if the hearts in her eyes were meant to be broken. It slowly eyed Mallo, approaching her much more slowly than the quick, deadly strokes it was taking across the room earlier. 

Mallo shuddered as she eyed it back. “That’s the thing…” she clamped her mouth shut, wrinkling her nose. 

Jekyll glanced toward the north wall once more. She saw the exit. It was a large door with a complex mechanical design. The door had three bright green lights in a horizontal scope, with two of the lights still dull, indicating five lights total. The bar in the middle of the door was pulled back to the last two unlit lamps. It was clear the last two lights needed to be lit before the door would open. 

Huh. Hyde nodded slowly in Jekyll’s head. Not a half-bad design. 

“Jekyll?” 

Jekyll turned to face Mallo obediently, offering the former lobotomy corporation employee her full attention. 

Mallo cleared her throat and adjusted her uniform. “Did you find any more of those buttons?”

“Yes,” Jekyll stammered before Hyde could interject. “I’ve seen two. One of them lit up way back where Dante is, and the other remained dead.” 

“That door has five bulbs,” Mallo pointed to the red exit door. “We’ve pressed three buttons so far, lighting up three sections of the floor plan. The generator over there has five ports. If we light up all of the room, that door should unlock. It’s a stupid disciplinary team design… but it kept abnormalities like this one contained.” She glared at the mermaid. “We need to press all of the buttons, light up the room, and the door will open.” 

Jekyll followed Mallo’s gaze to the mermaid, her heart beating faster. “With… that thing flying around?” 

“Just hit it,” Mallo said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Stick by me, and it won’t be a problem. It’s predictable.” 

Nah, remember the last time we stuck near an abnormality? Hyde forced a memory of the White Lake to Jekyll’s thought. I ain’t doing that again. 

No… and the Red Queen, Hearts Lady, thing… it wasn’t reasonable either. “I know where the button is. I can press it, but I need to get past the mermaid.” 

“I’ll distract it, then,” Mallo gestured into the darkness where the other button resided. “Go.” 

Jekyll obliged and quietly sneaked around Mallo, double-checking to make sure the mermaid didn’t spot her before slowly working her way around. 

Mallo took notice immediately and acted upon her promised distraction. “Ugh, love… I hate it,” she cursed under her breath before shouting towards Jatayu, giving him instructions. 

When the mermaid’s gaze locked onto Jekyll, she took a step back behind Mallo once more. She decided to glance at the door one more time before making her move. 

“I’m burning alive, but still alive!” Mark’s voice could be heard shouting throughout the room. 

“What happened?” The veteran asked. 

“This… bastard of a spear keeps burning me!” 

“Why is Mark burning alive?” Jekyll glanced towards Mallo, wondering why she hadn’t acted upon the mermaid via a distraction yet. 

Mallo’s face showed how done she was with the situation. “He called the spear a bastard, like the idiot he is. Do not mess around with tool abnormalities, lest you wish to be bound to more trouble.” 

Jekyll opened her mouth to reply but clamped it shut as a heap of coughs claimed her vocal cords. She faced north to see a blue gas seeping out from the open parts of the door. There is an odd noise from the other side which accompanied the leaking gas dripping through the cracks. The fog was blue and felt hideous to inhale. Jekyll’s skin didn’t react well to touching it, either. 

Jekyll flattened her face and stepped away from the door, spotting that the mermaid made its way closer to Mallo. She decided to start heading into the darkness as Mallo and Jatayu conversed more. 

“Right… I am going to put this into Port C, or something!” The veteran stepped into the generator and started to fiddle with some of the wires inside of it. “I have no idea which one it is… it says C6?” 

“It is probably the one Jekyll is heading towards!” Mallo nodded toward the doctor before communicating again. “That way!” 

“Oo! A box!” The veteran stopped what he was doing. “This one has a green button on it!” 

“A green button?” 

“It’s yellowish like the bomb boxes… but the button is green instead of red.” 

“Press it; see what happens!” 

Jekyll stopped dead in her tracks. Are you insane?! Her eyes widened. Those were bombs?! Why are you telling him to press it?!

There was a loud click, followed by silence. Even the mermaid took a moment to look at the generator. 

Mallo tapped her foot impatiently. “Jatayu?” 

“I think I’m being surrounded!” 

“Don’t touch the boxes!” 

“They want me to press them!”

“Don’t press them!” 

I’m getting a headache watching this, Hyde rubbed her head. We have a party of idiots. 

“Yeah,” Jatayu shouted toward the faint Mark voice. “The spear corroded two of the LCB-2 members and tried to stab me when it gained control. No, we can’t break it… that thing has ruined many lives.”

The what? Jekyll stood dumbfounded. Are they all on crack? What are they talking about? 

“You can’t break abnormalities, that’s not how they work! They physically cannot die, they just turn into eggs!” Mallo added. 

“Mark, you won’t be successful!” Jatayu pleaded. “I would like to see it die, but it won’t work!” He waited as Mark shouted something before replying. 

Mallo’s voice was louder than his. “It definitely won’t work! Hop around the generator, the mermaid is on my side!” 

Mark stepped briefly into the light, but not enough for Jekyll to see. However, Jatayu’s reaction was enough to get a grip on what changed. “MY GOSH WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?!”

The conversation had taken so long, the mermaid was inches away from Mallo. It approached slowly and with great caution, trying to get as close as possible. Jekyll was about to alert her, but Mallo spotted it first and unsheathed her stave, pointing it at the abnormality. “Hey! Don’t come any closer!” She hissed. 

The mermaid formed a mouth; it looked horrendous when it spoke. “You… you stopped me on my laps before… Why? Do you… do you love me?” 

Jekyll saw this was the only opportunity she was going to get. She made her way around Mallo, approaching the darkness slowly. 

Does it want love? Hyde raised an eyebrow. That’s it? 

Jekyll shook her head. I don’t think it’s that simple… 

A contagious, psychic laughter left Mallo’s lips as she towered over the creature’s head. “Love you? Really? Do you really think I could love something like you? That’s cute… and pathetic. I have no love in my heart anymore.” 

The world briefly stood still. A knife shot itself through Jekyll’s heart the moment Mallo said that. No love within her heart… W-What? The doctor gripped her brush, thinking back to all the caring moments and the love Mallo had shown her. But… But I thought–

It only made Hyde roll her eyes. I knew it. The motherly act was a lie. There is no love in her, Jekyll. You heard her say it with her own mouth. 

Jekyll did her best to slow her breathing, but it didn’t stop tears running from her eyes. Surely, she–

Jekyll! Hyde snapped. We have a door to unlock, and a golden bough to retrieve! This is no time to be moping about someone not caring about you. No one ever did! Stop believing they will! 

The mermaid resonated with the plea Jekyll almost uttered. “I’ll do anything for love, please!” the creature begged, the hearts in its eyes cracking. 

“People promised me that before; do you think I’d believe you?!” Mallo grabbed the abnormality by its throat, scoffing in its face with a wicked smile. She pressed her fingers into its neck as a form of intimidation. Memories flashed before the woman’s eyes. 

The mermaid started to cry, staring into Mallo’s soul. “I just want you… to love me…” 

Before Mallo could speak and Jekyll could think, a light began to shine from the mermaid’s point of contact with Mallo. AN invisible force pushed Mallo, forcing her to be drawn to the mermaid.

Mallo became panicked as her hand merged into the mermaid’s skin. “Wait, wait! What the hell are you doing?!” She spoke quickly and in a panic. “Stop that, stop that!” She tried pushing the mermaid away with her foot, but it only merged with her foot as well. 

Jekyll watched in horror as the mermaid grew in size and devoured Mallo in a matter of seconds. Mallo fused with the mermaid effortlessly, and was nowhere to be seen as the mermaid took on aspects of Mallo’s body; black hair and bright blue eyes. 

Hyde watched in terror herself. …What the actual f–

Inelligle voices ran between the air in the form of the mermaid’s voice and Mallo’s, only uttering one word Jekyll could understand. “Mark.” It didn’t take long for the mermaid to zoom into the darkness in the last direction Jekyll heard the prisoner’s voice. 

PFFF– Hyde burst into a peal of laughter. They’ve become like us! Fighting for one mind! How ironic, how diabolical! 

Jekyll only snapped out of her thousand-yard stare from Hyde’s laugh. She stumbled onto the floor and up again, bursting into the darkness and as far away from the abnormality as she could get. It… It took Mallo… Mallo is gone…

Relax, Hyde’s cackling subsided. She never cared about us anyway, there’s no need to care about her. 

Jekyll frantically lunged through the darkness before stopping to take a breath, spotting the altar once more. Hyde… Is it… Do you think–

We don’t need her, Jekyll. Hyde narrowed her eyes. We don’t need any of them. Each of us is in this company for our own gain. I’d say we get that golden bough ourselves, and get the hell out of here. 

Jekyll paused, wiping away her tears. 

Hyde used her silence to continue. How have you not learned this lesson yet? Stop seeking Mallo’s validation, she is not our mom. She never will give you what you want. No one actually cares about anyone in the city. 

Jekyll stumbled from side to side before reaching the button she found previously, still eyeing the altar. She glanced into the darkness, faintly hearing footsteps approaching her. “Who goes there?!” 

Jatayu’s voice accompanied the figure merging from the fog. “Jekyll? Is that you?” 

Oh great, just the Burner of Syra we needed. Hyde rolled her eyes.

He… At least he cares about finding his niece… At least someone cares about someone else in this City. 

Stop sulking. That doesn’t matter right now. Let me ask him my questions. 

“Yes,” Jekyll finally answered the veteran as he came into view. He also looked incredibly drenched and sopping wet from the mermaid’s sprinting rounds. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, adjusting his tanfas in his hands. 

Jekyll nodded before she froze, seeing the dark outline of the mermaid in the distance. “Uh… Mallo has fused with the abnormality…” 

“What?!”

“I don’t know!” Jekyll raised her hands instinctively after Jatayu’s roar. “Stay there, let me come to you!” 

“You stay safe!” 

Murmurs about ‘family doesn’t matter’ echoed from the mermaid as it splashed across the room. Jekyll eyed it carefully before she reached Jatayu, pulling him out of sight of the creature. “Thank goodness you're safe…” 

Jatayu glanced around, confused. “What happened?” 

“So… Mallo fused with the abnormality, I think…” She glanced at the button next to her. That’s… odd. I thought it was more south. 

It’s the yellow one with the slits, Hyde observed. 

“This button is suspicious,” Jekyll watched Jatayu eye the button before pushing his hand away from it. 

He gripped his hand with the other one before glancing up at Jekyll’s hair. “Mallo said the yellow ones were bombs, is it yellow?” 

“Yes.” Jekyll sighed. “Do you see anything else? Perhaps another button?” 

Jatayu stared into the darkness. “I see… two things… one by the west wall, and a button-shaped thing south of us.” 

Jekyll clenched, stress building up in her shoulders as she looked over them. “You… see that?” 

“It looks like a small… no, large… box? I am not sure,” the veteran looked curiously at the doctor. “Do you know what it is?” 

Perfect time to bring up the questions–

“Uh… I don’t know if we have time to dive into this,” Jekyll was almost answering Hyde more than Jatayu, but he seemed to take it as an okay answer. 

The mermaid is distracted. Ask him about stone altars. 

Jekyll paused, stammering over her words. “Do you… have any experience with… uh… stone altars?” 

…Are you serious right now–

“Not personally,” Jatayu’s face wore confusion like a mask. “I remember one of my fellows saying they had visions of stone altars when they held the tool abnormalities…” 

It was Jekyll’s turn to be confused. Who? 

Probably the LCB-2, Hyde groaned. He doesn’t refer to any of us as ‘fellows’ anyway. He is probably referencing whatever’s burning Mark alive right now… Somehow, I think that thing and Jatayu are linked to the altar. 

They were supposed to sacrifice him on the altar, right? Jekyll reasoned, putting her hand up to her chin. So… was that a tool they tried to use? 

“I see more boxes, a few yellow ones… and… I think I see the mermaid?” Jatayu continued, spinning in a circle to name everything he could see. 

Hyde scoffed in a light-hearted manner. Dork. 

Jekyll didn’t take his response the same way and hyperfocused on what he said. “Wait, what? You see the mermaid?” 

“Over there in the distance,” Jatayu pointed southeast. “I see its figure… where Mark was. Wait, it might be chasing Mark!” 

Jatayu turned to take a step in that direction, but Jekyll grabbed his arm. Hyde was clearly not done with him yet. “Considering how fast that thing is, there is not much point in helping Mark if the being is after it.” Jekyll stammered over her words, eager to get answers out of the veteran before he disappeared. I don’t need you merging with the abnormality, too. 

Jatayu did not take her comment lightly. He turned his head slowly, his gaze full of anger and his voice one with authority. “What do you mean there’s no helping him now?” His tone was one of someone offended by the sheer thought. “Mark might be a dick, but he is still our comrade!” 

“Jatayu, I need you to listen very carefully,” Jekyll returned in a serious tone as she stared into his soul, her gaze unwavering. You’re the only one that cares about anyone else at this party, why can’t you think of yourself? “We need to solve the puzzle in this room and turn all the lights on so… we can help our comrades better.” 

Hyde paused, a look of surprise on her face. You are a smoother liar than I thought. 

W-What? 

I see your intention. Hyde scoffed, waving her finger. We can urge him to help us solve the puzzle… then we can get out of here. 

Jekyll paused. Well, yes, but–

No, no, I like this. Hyde smirked with a hint of villainy. Keep going. Use these… ‘titles’ of his to get his attention if you must. 

…okay. 

“Our comrades are being chased by the mermaid, Jekyll!” Jatayu combated. “They are heading for Mark– oh no, they could be heading for Dante too!” 

“Jatayu!” Jekyll snapped, gripping his arm and pulling it towards her. It was enough force to make the tall veteran look down at her. “I don’t know who you are, or whether or not you truly care about the rest of the party. I cannot judge that after these titles of… ‘Burner of Syra’ or ‘Chariot Breaker’ I’ve learned about you from the notes on the ground I found. But I need you to set your emotions aside and work with me here! You need to focus on the puzzle and help the party solve it, otherwise, the mermaid will freely travel in the dark and claim us all as it did Mallo! I don’t want that… for you…” She stumbled over the last part, trying to make it as sincere as possible. “I need you to promise me that you will not go to the altar behind me, and you will press the lightbox on your way to the others.” 

Hyde’s smirk only grew as Jatayu became convinced of Jekyll’s quick plan; she also noticed how he tensed up at the titles used, delighted in the fact she had found another button to poke. 

“Okay, I promise not to go near the altar… And I will press the button as I head towards Dante. You should go to the generator and plug in the wire for the last button.” Jatayu forced his arm out of Jekyll’s grip, heaving a heavy sigh. Regret was written all over his face, and he actively tried to pull himself together. 

I… can’t believe he actually fell for it. Jekyll nodded firmly. “Okay.” 

What do you mean you can’t believe it? You gave him no room to suspect otherwise. Hyde said through the grin that hadn’t faded. I’m impressed, Jekyll. 

The veteran stepped into the darkness before looking over his shoulder, his eyes softly wishing a farewell to the doctor. “Good luck,” he said sweetly. 

Jekyll felt guilt wrap around her soul like a chord as Jatayu walked over to the light button and pressed it firmly, turning on the lights for the area and revealing the generator to Jekyll’s eyes. He then took off running southeast, on a mission to make sure Dante was okay. 

Jekyll clenched her arm, staring at the ground. At least he will not go near the altar, now… 

Don’t beat yourself up about the motivation behind your ask, Hyde chuckled to herself. We got what we wanted from him. Let’s finish this puzzle and be on our merry way. 

Jekyll slowly walked to the generator, trying to obey Hyde in not beating herself up about it. Is it the right thing to just… take off, and not look back? To leave them? 

They’ve been making points about how useless you are to the group, Hyde reminded her. They don’t trust you, just like Mark said. They don’t love you, just like Mallo said. Do you really think a group like that is worth fighting for? Are they worth your time and effort? 

Upon those words, Jekyll hardened her heart, remembering the prior experiences she had with similar people. She was not going to be walked all over again by those who didn’t care about her. She was not going to fall for any of it. No, no they are not. 

Hyde seemed satisfied. Then let’s open the exit and get out of here. 

[rebel-hunk-enjoyer]

wip tag: grippy sock vacay, please? the title is intriguing, is the sock going on vacation? if so where, and why?

Ahaha, thank you for the ask! The grippy socks are on Kallus' feet. 😅 Because he is sent to a rebel mental health facility for defectors straight out of Zero Hour. 😅 Mostly because I had a throw away line in 'dead letter' about "deprogramming therapy" and wanted to explore more of what that might look like. 😅

So, yeah, in this one Kallus is having a little "vacation" between S3 and S4 to get him over the hump of being a nasty little imp gerblin running mostly on caf/nutrient bars/fear and into being, like, something the rebellion can actually reliably use without the threat of a complete mental breakdown.

It's very character study and idk there's honestly something so personal about writing a wet tissue man working through it instead of just going through it, you know? I wrote this and then went into my next therapy session wanting to work on myself. So it's a very indulgent kind of hopecore thing that I think I'm drawn to because I'm Kallus' age and have (capitalized for emphasis) Issues and really vibe with the idea of someone actively choosing to be better and actively working at that betterment.

And also he's very much in love with Zeb at this point but doesn't think he deserves to even feel those feelings. Ahem.

So here's a bit of that!

The stark white lights dim to an ominous shade as reserve power kicks on. He’s running, foot falls and harsh breath ringing in his ears. A door closes in his path, followed by another and another until he realizes with a sinking feeling that he’s being herded. 

Red eyes. Voice like the edge of a blade. Closing in on him, pushing him through a maze of Imperial hallways, all familiarity leeched from the walls and replaced with contempt. Those walls close in as more avenues of escape are shut, his destination determined for him by an unseen puppet master tugging at his strings. 

Purple and steel flash across his vision, a familiar bo-rifle in staff configuration blocking his path down the ever darkening corridor before him. He spins and raises his own weapon, but his hands are empty. Hot panic flashes through him and his opponent lands a kick square to his chest, sending him sprawling backwards.

It’s wet where he lands. Cold. Flakes of snow drift across his vision as he stares up at Geonosis. Green eyes come into focus above him with soft, concerned words that he can’t make out. It scares him how badly he wants and cannot allow himself to smile.

Pain cuts through him, a bright red splatter across crisp white snow, and he feels claws rip into his flesh just below his cuirass. Flex, twist, pull. The eyes above him shift to yellow, narrow into hateful slits, and Kallus gasps himself awake. 

Around him, there is neither snow nor an Imperial hallway. The room is dimly lit in comforting pools of soft yellow placed at intervals along its walls. Kallus counts the lights as he breathes in and breathes out, slow and measured. The room is filled with the soft hum of machines, the occasional beep of a vital monitor, the barely perceptible din of a ship traveling through hyperspace. Kallus flexes both hands, sits up in bed, and swings his legs over the edge but doesn’t stand.

He doesn’t feel grounded but at least he doesn’t feel adrift. 

It’s been days since the remnants of Phoenix cell regrouped in a backwater system to treat wounded and make emergency repairs. Kallus was shuffled aboard a cruiser for medical attention and assumed he would be back aboard the Ghost before the convoy returned to hyperspace, but treatment for his cracked ribs and fractured leg tapers into a defector’s suicide watch. 

The doctors explain it with the sort of empathy one doesn’t find in an Imperial medbay and only seem more concerned when Kallus attempts to tell them that, no, he isn’t a spontaneous defector, but had been acting as a double agent for the rebellion for nearly a whole standard. While he feels that gives him room to wiggle out of protocol perhaps intended for someone in a more precarious mental state, the doctors all agree that his mental state might be that much more precarious due to his experiences.

They may not be wrong, given the difficulty he has falling asleep and the subjects his mind drifts to once he manages to get there.

He flips open the pad of flimsi on his bedside table and scrawls out a few short sentences, neatly summarizing the mix of anxiety and dread and primal fear that had gripped him throughout the nightmare. Causes, insights, just a few broken sentences of thought on the matter. Kallus hesitates, wrinkles his nose, then commits to the distasteful act of bettering himself by adding another line: Garazeb is my lifeline, I hate myself for the comparison my subconscious makes to the mercenary.

Zeb is and Kallus does and committing it to words feels uncomfortable and too comfortable all at once.

I miss him, Kallus adds - because he really does hate himself and that admission twists the knife in. 

Still, looking back over the previous pages of the journal and each stilted description of a hellscape from the depths of his own subconscious, Kallus admits to some improvement. He started keeping record of his feelings (and dreams) on a doctor’s recommendation, the suggestion being that defectors often feel like they can only trust themselves but are still susceptible to reimagining their own internal narrative even without a steady stream of Imperial propaganda and fear of reprisal. Having his emotions written down in his own handwriting, being able to check back over the pages to solidify for himself his thoughts and feelings, is such simple validation - one that would have been suicide just a few short days ago, a record of weaknesses just waiting to be used against him.

Gradually, a defector’s suicide watch becomes a kind of voluntary deprogramming therapy. Not long after that, the cruiser infirmary becomes a quiet facility on a planet whose name Kallus doesn’t want to know, for fear it might be dragged out of him one day. At first, the facility feels wholly alien with its warmth and care, a place for healing wounds of the mind where nothing moves at the breakneck speed of rebellion or with the calculated military precision of the Empire. 

Kallus wakes from his first night there to a sunrise tinged pink and the sound of birds outside the window of his room. He feels a wash of panic when realizes there isn’t a single chronometer at his disposal to tell the time, then a more intense bloom of panic rises tight in his chest when he tries to rationalize that knowing the time is effectively meaningless. There’s no military schedule, no morning drills, no reports to submit or operations to plan, no data that needs to be gathered and sifted through and transmitted to his rebel contacts. No immediate danger, no imminent threat to his being. 

For now, for however long, he’s free.

His panic subsides into a hot, sick feeling of elation.

Thankfully, that feeling doesn’t last.

[rinwellisathing]

I like writing a whole bhaalspawn family because it lets me explore all the kinds of horror I love so here are just a few inspirations for each of my little guys and how I write them (and also the inspirations I think of for Orin and Default Durge when I write them) keep in mind, this is writing them in particular, the overall vibe for Papa Bhaal's House of Horrors is as follows:

Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2 especially)

House of 1,000 Corpses

Pumpkinhead

The Hills Have Eyes

Wrong Turn

Sentry Ojeda:

Johnny The Homicidal Maniac by Jhonen Vazquez

Dead By Daylight (The Legion and Trickster in particular)

Scream

House of 1,000 Corpses (shades of both Otis and Baby)

Lisa Frankenstein

Outlast(shades of Eddie Gluskin)

Theatre of Blood

Tomi Kisaragi:

Jennifer's Body

House of 1,000 Corpses (Mama Firefly)

Imprint

Audition

The Botanical Daughter(which is actually a really good book I recommend)

Carved: The Slit Mouthed Woman

Bloom (another great book I recommend highly)

Suspiria

What Moves The Dead(yet another book rec)

Tomie (obviously)

Orin The Red:

(Obviously her canon portrayal)

Dead By Daylight (particularly The Legion and The Spirit)

The Ring (particularly the western remake since I write her as a child in my horror AU)

Dead Silence (creepy doll vibes lend themselves really well to the twelve year old version of her)

Child's Play (not the shitty remake)

Dead By Daylight(The Legion and The Plague)

Soichi

The Haunting of Hill House

Jackal Silk:

Incident On And Off Mountain Road

Thir13en Ghosts(The Jackal and Juggernaut)

Dead By Daylight (The Trapper)

House Of 1,000 Corpses (shades of Otis, RJ, and Captain Spaulding)

Texas Chainsaw Massacre(Choptop)

Gabraela Grimmaldi:

Outlast (Marta)

Dead By Daylight (The Huntress)

Pumpkinhead (Ed Harley)

The Grudge

Friday The 13th

Sweeney Todd

Gary (default Durge) :

American Psycho

Dead By Daylight (Skull Merchant, Oni, and Trapper)

The Casting of Frank Stone

Outlast (shades of Walker and also sometimes Gluskin)

Amnesia: A Machine For Pigs

The Fall of The House of Usher(Price, Flanigan, original story, take your pick)

The Devil In Me

Hellraiser

Desdemona(actually my fiancee's character, this is just what I use when I'm writing her based on how mt fiancee has RPed as her) :

Resident Evil

Dead By Daylight (The Doctor and The Blight)

Outlast

Cabin In The Woods

The Fly

Hellraiser

[boyakishantriage]

The ship shook violently, as I suddenly became aware of the searing pain across my chest, a headache soon filled my mind as it went into overdrive and then. Calm. As I always did, I checked my body. Nothing broken, just a couple of ribs. Blood streamed down my ears, as I quickly figured what happened.

We'd been hit, a laser striking the side of the vessel causing it to crash... The sound of wind whistling its way down the halls, we had 32 crew. 9 humans including myself in that 32...

A hand reached for a needle, with pins coursing through her body as it began to freeze up. Pushing past the function, she stabbed herself with the EpiPen.

Blood flushed through her system, as everything ran into overdrive. Heart pounding, she forced herself to slow down as she staggered her way down the hall. Gripping her diaphragm as she leaned into a door with her bag of drugs.

Sam lay on the bed, frozen as he processed what just happened. Then pain in his leg, as a bag was thrown into him.

"oi. Dick sucker, go wake up the others. I'm gonna. Fucking. I'm gonna go close the fucking hole." He barely managed to mumble his thanks as she walked out.

BZZT. BZZZT. BZZT.

Her sister called her stupid. Bringing a bag of EpiPens, a small fusion reactor and some bits and bobs of tech. Wearing a face mask, she fused the metal together, every so often swearing as she walked up and down covering the holes with spare doors, plates, panels. Anything that wouldn't let out oxygen when they got off the ground. Which would probably take weeks, then something caught her ear.

Something coughed, tall and lanky with a dark deer complexion, the engineer of the ship swore as he dragged himself towards the engine room.

"Uhh. What?"

"engine. Explode. Gotta. Off."

The man thing lost his strength, legs probably broken I shrugged and opened the door.

I dragged the deer man into the med bay, dragging the delirious doctor with me as I threw him into a pod. Bacta tanks, suspend the person and healing liquid helps relax the body speeding up healing. Shoving a strawberry into his mouth, the girl woke up. Spitting the strawberry like a pepper, because that's what it was in her biology.

"GAH. WHAT?" She turned to look at me, as I burped.

"I'm going into a tank. You need to turn it on before the adrenaline wears off. Ok?" I helped myself into the tank, as everything went dark.

The shadow realm. A place of darkness and evil, a well of black magic. Figures move around me as I stand over Tartarus. The deepest part of the pit, linked up to here and comes to what can only be described as a pit of tar. Tying my hair back, slitting my wrists I dive down.

"MOTHER FUCKER." I shouted in reflex, spitting out phlegm as the captain looks at me.

"... What?"

"we crashed."

"I mean. Yeah."

"but we're not dead."

"That can happen."

"... And our communicators are out."

The orc like woman took a seat. Probably having a breakdown. The slime nurse woman looked at me.

"she's uh. Been doing that for a while now."

"how many people injured right now?"

"like lethal? Uhhh. 1, but they're. Well."

He closed the tube, turning the machine on.

BOOM

I flinched, reaching for my knife as he paused.

"oh right. We need the engine for power but we. Uh. Couldn't do it without breaking it, so..."

"... I get it. But damn."

I turned to the captain, her head in hands as she appeared to be breaking down.

"so. I'm just gonna..."

I reached forward, taking her card.

I wandered the ship, soon finding a group appearing unsure what to do.

"Good morning."

"... Ah. Human Eleanor..."

He trailed off, the goblin like alien losing his train of thought as I looked around.

"Alright. Fuck this. Warg. Hey. WARG."

The goblin snapped to attention.

"yes?"

"Can you clean up the halls?"

"i- the ship."

"WARG. Stop thinking, clean the halls. We can't have more accidents, so make sure we can walk through the halls without getting hurt."

The goblin hesitated, pausing as he nodded.

"clean the halls."

"RI-RI HEY. YO. YOU AWAKE?"

I jostled the chef awake, the squid cousin to Dina the doctor snapping awake.

"uh- what?"

"how much food we got?"

"I- err."

"how long can we last with the food and water we have?"

"umm. Eight months? But-"

"ok. And if we ration it?"

"... Half a year?"

"great. Can you preserve what we have, make it last longer and organise the kitchen?"

"but-"

"Stop thinking about it, your job now is preserve and organise ok?"

I met Sam and John, the pair arguing as they always did.

"OI. DICK SUCKERS. GET OUT THE SHIP, RUN ANALYSIS AND FORM A PERIMETER AROUND US. BUILD A CAMPSITE!"

The gays looked at me, each other before shrugging and moving off.

It took three hours, three hours of organising and sending people to do things, at some point I'd handed out radios for people to call where they where, who they were and whatever they wanted to say. Most of the aliens were in a daze, with the other seven humans either trying to figure something out or arguing on what to do.

"Anthony. Find Wargo and figure out how to fix this ship. Liam, quit your bitching and go make a farm or something. Pashi, go with Tina and get everyone in the right headspace. Here's a radio, get them into the cafeteria. Saw, go out and help John and Sam. Onion, come with me to the cafeteria."

The others broke off, as the captain began gaining her senses.

"the ship-

"Shut up. We're going to the cafeteria."

[hawkheartt]

hi. as usual. something happened

i said this earlier but i’m worried this could count as suggestive. so. whoops. altho on second thought probably not

i mainly just wrote it because i really like liv’s doc ock suit and i wanted to incorporate how it’s built into something. so if you can piece that together in this, yay!

“Can I help with that?” Lucielle’s voice cut through the silence like a sunbeam through the canopy. She stepped into her bedroom and sat on the edge of her bed, heels perched on the side rail. Her small tail shifted over the waistband of her pajama shorts. A small lamp with a stained glass shade is somehow able to illuminate the whole room, casting the women in a gold, faintly amber glow.

Olivia had been pacing around for just less than a minute, that latex and silicone suit practically plastered to her lithe form. She was out of most of it, the leggings, shorts, and long gloves were easy enough, and she replaced the former for loose mint sweatpants. The two largest straps have also been removed, hanging down over her back. Her hands were on her upper back, elbows up as she tinkered with a small blue wire that laid right beside the base of her neck. She turned her head, brows furrowed as her hair tumbles past her arm.

“What?” She questioned instinctively, the little wire popping out with a click. “No, no, I’ve done this myself for years.” Her hands shift to the back of her left shoulder, brushing along cool metal in search of another wire.

Lucielle rose from the bed, cautiously stepping up. She doesn’t reach forward right away, just fidgeting with her nails. “You sure? You’ve been out all day in that, and it’d be best if you just, well, let me help.” She rounds the other woman, eyeing the lower parts of where the harness meets the corset. Olivia just watched her after plucking out the second wire. Her face softened, and she smiled.

“Go ahead, but only if you let me tell you how to do it,” Olivia shrugs and moves the rest of her hair over her shoulder. “And please, be careful?”

Lucielle lit up, peeking around Olivia’s shoulder with a sweet grin. “Yes, doctor,” She snickers before standing back and keeping her hands on Olivia’s shoulders. The doctor never let other people tinker with her machines, let alone the very one connected to her brain. She disconnects one last small wire on the back of the corset, before holding her hands closer to wait for instructions.

Olivia just stared at the bed, hands frozen at her sides as she just traced the faint folds of their favorite grey blanket. She just couldn’t help her gaze from drifting to the fuzzy octopus plush lying on the other side of the bed. “Now, the corset first..” She swallows, and pulls her right arm over her chest, “There’s a slit in the metal right below the harness, it goes all the way around and hooks into itself.”

“Mhm..”

As Olivia spoke, her words kept calm and articulate as to not concern Lucielle, the selkie went to work. She’s just barely able to fit the tip of her claw into the slit, and slide it down to fit a few more in. With her thumb pressed, she’s able to press down and push the metal forward, unlatching it with a small sound. No matter how many times she’d helped, Lucielle still couldn’t tell if that small sound was from the metal, or from Olivia taking a soft breath of relief.

The doctor doesn’t dare to turn her head as she smiles at the ground. “There, now it should just open at the other side.”

With how the corset dipped to sit somewhat above her tailbone, Olivia wasn’t able to fully pull up her pajama pants yet. So, when Lucielle accidentally brushed the skin of her hip as she removed the light metal corset, the doctor couldn’t help but tense up. She had no clue what this girl has done to her.

When she’s finished with the corset, Lucielle keeps both halves separated, moving to gently lay it on a dresser they have beside the door. With the mutant’s back turned, even when there was a mirror just above the dresser, Olivia is quick to fix her pants and pull the drawstring tight, her heart just about fluttering.

“You’re lucky I did most of the work for you,” Olivia remarked, finally beginning to slide off the remaining silicone piece of the suit, “It’s mainly just the wires… But trust me, a lot of that isn’t just for looks.”

Lucielle glance down to the corset, specifically at a few curved stripes of deactivated lights. Definitely for functionality. She’s quick to look back, though, smiling like usual as she reaches out to assist. Without the corset, the dark gray straps around Liv’s shoulders could finally be removed as well.

“You made it, I trust you there,” Lucielle adds, tossing the thick fabric to the dresser. She steps into Olivia’s view, the top of her head meeting right at her forehead. Although, she is looking down, face a bit harder than the usual sweet smile that’s plastered there. As Olivia slides off the second plasticky sleeve, she looks down as well.

“The whole chest plate is loose, hun, you can do the honors.”

Lucielle’s dark eyes snapped up, wide as a wild animal’s. She can only stare for a second, even as her hands creep forward to hold under the main silicone layer. But a smile from the doctor melts that worry, and her face softens.

“Will do…” Lucielle mumbled, her fingers finally hooking under the shirt of silicone. It comes off Olivia’s undergarments with the faintest sound of suction, but she’s able to slide it up with little issue. Olivia fumbles some with removing the sleeves, but the flexibility of the material makes it easier. The mutant steps around, and Liv lifts her freed arms to accommodate the shirt sliding up all the way around her neck. Lucielle was nervous, she knows she’s the one who suggested this, and she’s happy to help, but the last thing she wanted was to breach her lover’s privacy.

Thankfully, under the suit, Olivia was able to wear undergarments. They were oddly modified to fit around the machine attached to her back, but when Lucielle noticed the small white straps of fabric around the back of her neck and below the harness, she couldn’t help but light back up.

“Do you need help with your hair?” She chimes in, her voice nervous. Olivia looks over her shoulder before turning around to sit on the edge of the bed.

“No, no.. I’m used to this part,” She answers with a smile, removing her glasses and placing them on the bed. Her hair, while already up, had begun to come loose from its bun. So, with a clearly practiced deftness, and a slightly uncomfortable sound of plastic, Olivia hoists the last piece of the suit over her head to let it drop behind her.

Lucielle was barely paying attention, curiosity painted on her features. At first she looked at the “shirt” Liv wore, what used to be a simple white tank top with a sizable hole in its back that stretched around her arms and took the entire size of the harness. It did cover her well, but with a trained eye for the woman she loved Lucielle was able to pick out the faint slope of her chest and the curve of her sides. Then, she looked to the glasses, and lastly to the doctor’s face just at the end. At how her hair messed up from the suit’s removal, almost puffing up entirely as deep brown and violet strands curl this way and that, how the stress of the day that seemed to be etched into her features just washed away.

The mutant is torn out of her thoughts when Olivia stretches her neck and sighs. She gently rubbed above the inhibitor attached to her spine, before smiling as well.

“That was much easier.” Is all she states as she puts her glasses back on.

Lucielle is already in the middle of putting all the pieces of the suit in one spot, on the dresser with the corset, and Olivia can’t get a word in before she’s done.

“I’m glad I could help..” The mutant added, still turned as she organized the pieces. Olivia frowned faintly, standing and stepping forward to try and get Lucielle’s attention.

“Thank you, really, that thing gets insufferable.” Olivia said, rolling her eyes at the last word. Her hands drift to Lucielle’s shoulders, before she tenses and puts them at either side of her on the edge of the dresser. They almost immediately made eye contact in the mirror, deep blue meeting striking hazel as they smile.

“Do I get to do that whenever you come home now?”

Olivia lowers her head to answer, thick bundles of loose hair cascading down when she looks to the woman in front of her. “Of course you can.. I trust you there.”

Lucielle just stared straight into the mirror, right at the smile on Olivia’s face, and right at the faint flush rising to her own. Before she can get too nervous, she quickly leans back, turns her head, and kisses the doctor right on the side of her mouth. Olivia can’t react much, especially not when the mutant swiftly turns herself around all the way to wrap her in a hug with her hands just below the harness.

[pysoch]

Hi guys I am going through sometjing RN so I thought I'd use my break at work to type out medic angst with my personal hcs woaowoaowa

Huge tw for the everything basicallt

Also tw for first person lol

=================

I am old. Each year I age and grow and change and I am old. There isn't any comfort in that, but it's hard to find any nowadays. I don't take to things like I did as a boy. Even with the new resources I have, I am old. Cutting down the skin of a man and splitting open whatever's inside him had started to leave me empty and bored. I've defied death, created machines to heal others of fatal wounds in an instant, invented immortality even if for a small duration, and it has given me nothing but a yearning for-

For..

Nothing.

For nothing.

I've accomplished it all. Done every feat doctors and medical professionals have beaten their lives for, and yet I have no celebration. I sit in my sterile office, on my uncomfortable chair, and stare at this form on my desk lengthening my employment. Even my coworkers give me no more than living entities to accompany my melancholy. And all I do as I stay here is get older. There's nothing left for me. God, I wish there was.

My thoughts wandered far, far from my accomplishments. No matter how I anchor them. It drifts. My eyes wander, too. They rest on the silver tray I have a lengths way from my desk. I kick the corner of it, full of floor-level marks in an odd streak. They resemble tally marks, six in total, all etched in dried fluid. It'd been too long, too many weeks for me to recall what for. On the surface is various tools I've used through my wretched career. Still probably clean from when I last polished them. Not probably; definitely. It's all I can do. Before my body and mind communicate it's already put me out, and back in the chair. The only thing that changes is the silver tool now in my palm. Scalpel. Yet my thumb pressed on it slightly too hard; tense arthritis is my one ail. A trickle of blood brings warmth to my hand and the silver handle, now coated in red. It's a hive, and the swarm of vermin that follows is natural.

It's not as if I haven't seen my own blood before. I usually wipe it, cleanse it, more often than not leave it to dry. The difference now is what comfort is brings me. I've played God so long that being reminded of my mortality has nearly set adrenaline through me too fast. My lungs pause their usual track before continuing the laborious activity. A small droplet sinks between the meticulously crafted oak paper below me and stain a word I was writing. An ugly thing blotting up my paper and driving me to pull back and out a paste to cover the mistake and keep writing. My body doesn't budge. I've forgotten I can bleed. I've forgotten I am not immortal. I press into the edge again.

Another slit. Yet more falls down my thumb. Instead of a stinging sensation of air hitting the receptors in my skin, I feel an overwhelming sense of joy. My body pumps itself out of the seat and to the desk itself while I stand hunched over. My untarnished thumb retracts the cuff of my sleeve and brings to light the pale flesh I hide under layers of professionalism. I can see blue and purple lines so faintly through them, pushing on their cages every time my fingers curl. I could hear them. They were suffocating while I watched and put all my focus into the dull throb they released in pain of claustrophobic masses. Hundreds of them; veins. Desperately wanting to be shown the world and I wielded the exit. It didn't take but a moment for me to unlock it, twisting in the key until the prongs fell into place, turning, and yanking it back out again. It jammed. I repeated the process thrice on the different locks of my mortal vessel until finally I withdrew. Their screams were of joy, and I was immediately rewarded with a blissful pleasure that hardly allowed me sense to stand.

Of course, my limb was coated with the slick and foul liquid that had drowned my unwilling captors. It slid out of the exits and down into clusters that dropped on the desk and scrawled away in feverish escape. The paper was nearly coated, now. Ink replaced for crimson and sometimes clotted so close it appeared black. I could only bite down on the inside of my cheek as I beheld my damage. Three- no, four- large gashes that no longer had blue visible. Yet still, the pulsating plead for release filled me deeper than lust for an untampered body devoid of scars. I attempted to put my freeing tool more and more within me, seeing white gifts spot my vision as my eyes tilted back to behold the ceiling fluorescents like angels. The euphoria was halted almost instantly as I realized I was unable to go further into the lock. Through squinting I could make out a thick white layer below the red, and under that an even sea of solid mass my scalpel couldn't sear through. My own bone. It shone gorgeously in the room. A gem hidden away in a tower that took perseverance and understanding to climb. It shone brilliantly. I nearly welcomed it as a friend before noticing it was merely a fragment. Loneliness is the death of man, I'd be no better than a tyrant if I forced him alone.

So further I worked to peel back the layers on my arm that read white. Eventually, I had accumulated so much shredded flesh on the desk it appeared like a normal surgery. Cutting back bit by bit rendered my arm suddenly useless. Hardly could I raise it above my waist anymore. And so it was; residing like a sleeping prince and pouring out waterfalls of life each passing second. Guilt consumed me at the sight of that lonesome bone, even if revealed. It's two-hundred brothers still begged unveiled beauty. Not a time to let rest take over. Instead, it was back to slashing and inserting, twisting and squelching up my side. The fabric of one of my favorite button-up shirts was no doubt long gone to these fruitful messes. There was a issue when it came to my sides. Through years of core strength in lifting men, gear, and other objects around there was a large barrier of muscle. It'd take toiling I had no patience for. The ribs could wait. It was truly my spine aching release. Not aided with a mirror nor flexibility, it was certainly wise for me to begin where it was most prominent and accessible. I tilted my head down in a mockery of prayer and found my way easily until the back of my neck had vertebrae poking through the mesh. A matter of seconds passed before the thin layers were able to reveal the bumps and grooves. It brought unbridled sensations down to me. I clung to that high, ripping away all I could and following the skin's path until a hasty move made my limbs render weak and useless. I felt everything spin and heard the resounding crack of my skull on the office floor. I never came to, as I hadn't passed out. Instead I was almost paralyzed in this state. I heard a faint drip and couldn't locate the source with my eyes. It took another two minutes for me to realize I was dying. A path of fatty tissue had falsely lead me to slitting out the front of my throat, causing my breathing laboured through blood and instead of my mouth, instead travelling out the crack. I was horrified and appalled at myself. My planning was so hasty, so unwise, that I led myself to death before getting to experience more of my precious body and its ability to be mauled by my own motivation. I'd remember next time the neck stays last. Everything was suddenly getting all too quiet for me. I raised my finger, dipping it in my excess fluids and deeply swiping it on the bottom wall of my desk. A tally of seven times by now that I've ended up dead at my own hands. Such is the way of suicide. After being robbed of death, it becomes a mercy. Most methods are unconventional, sloppy, and boring. Bullets don't give you time, hangings don't give you pleasure, and overdose hardly lets you feel at all. By the time I walk out of the doors to respawn, I'll have forgotten. I'll forget the love and darling sensation that is agony and killing yourself to revel in the beauty. It was far too late for me to write it down for reference; I undoubtedly had less than ten seconds left. The first time I died, I felt a cradle of my mother hold my head tenderly and comfort me. God took her away the third time I didn't learn my lesson that this game I play with myself was a mockery of his gift of temporary joys of Earth. Damn that bastard for being right. I'd prove his creation wrong once more the next time around.

As for right now, my lungs have stopped. My heart quit beating twelve seconds ago. My hearing is the last to fade in the gorey scene, but my own gasping and dripping wound excrements are a lullaby I hold dearer than most.

[l2bbocsstuff]

Tea and Tumult

This is a small Arcane (CaitVi) drabble I wrote for a Discord I belong to. I hope you enjoy it.

It was that time of year again.  The time Vi could not stand but being the good girlfriend she was, she just grinned and bared it.

Caitlyn was hosting, on behalf of her mother, her annual high-end tea party for the elite up-and-comers.  Every twenty-something snobby person Vi had ever met was on the guest list.  Caitlyn, wearing her Louis Vuitton dark blue, tailored suit, greeted each of them with her usual courtesy as she had been trained to do by both her parents. 

All the fashionable, beautiful people were sipping tea and eating fabulous desserts made by the kitchen staff.  A handful of servers, wearing white jackets and white gloves, had been hired to keep the food and refreshments flowing.

Vi knew she shouldn’t be sulking but she couldn’t help herself.  This was a Piltover party and nothing like she had been accustomed to from her years in Zaun and certainly not from when she was in prison.  She stood in the corner wearing a fake smile and her Sunday best.  Vi was trying to fade into the brocade covering that adorned the walls of the salon in the family mansion.  The scale of the hypocrisy in this room is amazing.  Most of these people would slit their best friend’s throat if it moved them up the social ladder she thought to herself.

At that moment Caitlyn elegantly made her way across the room to Vi while balancing her teacup and a piece of cake.  She gently kissed Vi on the cheek to the amazement of some of the other guests and said, “You should try this dessert.  It’s delicious.”

“Shouldn’t you be eating a cupcake instead?” Vi replied with a wink.  “You know all these people don’t want me here.  It’s just another example of oil and water.”

“Vi, these people are only here to ingratiate themselves with my family and more specifically with my mom because of her council membership.  They are all trying to get to her through me.  This sickens me too but I can’t say no to my mom.  Just grab some tea and get yourself some food.  It’s only one afternoon.”

Vi nodded and made her way over to the smorgasbord of pastries and confections.  She was waiting patiently when she overheard two men speaking.  “The Kirammans are all so pretentious.  They wouldn’t be in the ruling class or have any pull at all if not for the rigged election of the mother.  Everyone knows the voting machines were tampered with.  It’s an outrage.”

Vi blanched.  She couldn’t believe what she had just heard.

The second man responded, “I mean really, the father actually has a job.  A doctor, no less.  Not a fit profession at all.  Cassandra definitely wears the pants in that family.  And the daughter.  Everyone knows she can shoot.  I’ve seen it myself at the last competition but I hear she slept her way into the police force.  God knows why anyone would be interested in spending time in the undercity.  Having to deal with low life and scum all the time.  It makes me shake my head.”

Vi couldn’t take it anymore.  She clenched her fists and then took a deep breath.  She was trembling.  “Hey jackoffs!!  What did you just say?”

The first man’s eyes went wide then a smirk appeared on his face, “I said, this seven-layer cake only has six layers, I counted.”  The second man was about to speak when Vi punched the first man directly on the chin.  He was unconscious before he hit the floor.  The second man walked away feeling very relieved and lucky.

Vi leaned down and felt the first man’s pulse.

“Violet!!  What the hell are you doing?”  Caitlyn yelled crossing the room.

“This jerk,” she pointed at the comatose man on the floor, “and his buddy insulted your family and insulted you.  I couldn’t take it so he got what he deserved.  At least, I checked to make sure he was still alive.  I’m leaving now.”  With that Vi planted a fiery kiss on Caitlyn’s lips, gave everyone else in the room the finger and walked straight out the front door.

The prompts were FASHIONABLE, SCALE. BALANCE and the sentences were "I checked to make sure he was still alive." The seven-layer cake only had six layers.

[aroraeyecentre]

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[zelphin124]

LCB-3 -> Canto 1: Chapter 12

Time to go away from the party, yipee! Masterpost Chapter 11 <--> Chapter 13

~o0o~

The generator was the dullest Jekyll had ever seen. M Corp was well known for their engineering and talent with machines, but this particular object in the center of this floor plan was duller than Jekyll’s will to live. It was a simple gray box with a gray hatch as a door, similarly designed to the light buttons she’d seen around the floor. From what she could tell, there was no button on top. Its color did not clash well with the red interior of the disciplinary floor, telling the doctor that it did not belong there. It was likely a machine brought inside by the demon syndicate. 

There was a small panel on the side Jatayu was facing earlier that day. Jekyll gently rested her hand on its hatch and opened it quietly, doing her best to not alert anyone of her presence. She didn’t want to talk to anyone; the goal was to get out of this hell as fast as possible. 

There were many cut wires on the other side of the panel. Most of them hung low, but some flew around, sparking whatever energy they had left out of them. There was only one intact wire, and it extended from the north side to the south, plugged into an outlet that read ‘C9’. Three of the letters were glowing, indicating that they were on. Although Jekyll wasn’t correct about her assumption of the room being similar to a chessboard, it definitely was a labeled grid of sorts. 

I3, E2, and C9 are done. Hyde glanced around the lights in the large room. B6 won’t be hard to turn on, and all we need is wherever H is. 

To Jekyll’s left, she could spot Mallo curled up on the floor, incredibly hurt. Mark was also close by, facing the figure of the mermaid just a step away from Mallo. Did… Did Mallo get free? Did Mark help her? 

She thought she was dreaming, but Jekyll spotted a similar silhouette to that of Lenore’s out in the shadows. Huh. Perhaps she and Pen traded places… 

Jatayu wasn’t too far off from the others, either. He walked in the darkness, pressing a few buttons. After the click, a series of childlike laughter filled the air, and hissing noises zoomed passed Jekyll as Jatayu threw the bombs at the mermaid figure, flying past everyone with great ease. 

The button next to Mallo and in front of Jekyll suddenly sprouted out spider-like legs made of metal from the slits Jekyll had observed earlier. It picked itself up and giggled, walking out of sight. 

What the hell are these things? Hyde narrowed her eyes. 

Jekyll shook her head and plugged the cord into the H column. Doesn’t matter at the moment. 

Hyde nodded and started counting the grid spaces on the floor. She laughed to herself, a sense of pride. Lenore should be next to the H button. Ask her to press it, and we can get out of here. 

We are using her, aren’t we? 

Yes, now call out to her. 

“Lenore!” Jekyll called out, hoping her voice would reach her coworker. “Can you look for a GRAY button and press it? Be sure that it is gray and not yellow!” 

Lenore’s silhouette stood still, turning toward Jekyll. There was a nod from her shadow. “Sure.” 

Jekyll glanced around again before giving further instructions. “It should be near the east wall!” 

“I don’t have a compass on me!” Lenore retorted in a harsher tone than usual. There was a quick breath, and her voice became calm again. “But I can decipher it is in the unlit area.” 

“Gage where the other lights are in the room and try to guess based on proximity,” Jekyll suggested. Surely, that makes sense…

Lenore’s shadow disappeared only for a moment. There was a soft click, and the cord in the generator-powered on, shooting electricity through its veins. The light lit up a good circle of the room, providing light to almost all the room. 

The mermaid came into view again, its broken-hearted eyes shaking in its pupils. There were also a few demon syndicate members, confused as ever about where they were. 

Lenore also came into view. She stared at the demon syndicate for a hot minute. He stared back at her, before scowling at her and spitting at her shoes. She did not take his action lightly and lunged for him. 

Jekyll would’ve watched if her attention wasn’t forced onto Mallo who picked up a box in front of her and pressed the top button. The boxes’ legs came out, giggling as they started to sizzle. Mallo grunted as she walked in between Mark and Lenore before chucking the bomb at the mermaid and syndicate’s location. 

The throw must’ve torn at her ligaments because as Mallo tried to reach for another bomb, she fell flat on her face. She grunted, her face turning red from embarrassment as she snapped at Mark, slowly getting back up on her feet. “Why did you run away?” 

“It’s not my problem,” Mark replied. 

“It is!” She glared at the mermaid and back at the prisoner. “It is our problem!”

“I’m going back to Dante to change my identity,” Mark started walking towards where Dante was last left, not giving Mallo the time of day. “You can’t beat the Piscine Mermaid with maracas.” 

Mallo struggled to her knees, staring at the button in front of her. “Can you at least throw the bombs at it?” 

“If I have the time.” 

“What do you mean if you have the time?!” Mallo snapped, finally standing. Something changed in her eyes; she didn’t look at Mark with full hatred anymore. However, the situation was still frustrating to her. “Just shout at Dante–” she stopped, facing south. “Dante! Change Mark’s ID! He’s running from a fight! I also need my ID switched and healed!” 

There was a pause as everyone–including the mermaid–stared south. There was a faint reply of ticking. “Which IDs?” 

“Use my extraction ticket! I need R Corp!” Mark barked. 

“I think I did pull that a bit ago, okay!” 

Mallo patted her chest to clear her throat before yelling as well. “I need a ranged weapon in my ID!” 

In a few seconds, Jekyll watched as Mark transformed into what she thought was a R Corp ID, and Mallo into one she did recognize: LCCB manager. 

The doctor watched as Mark immediately sprang into action. He hauled the bomb in front of Mallo over his shoulder, pressing its button firmly and flinging it toward the mermaid. Everyone else stood around as they watched the bomb hiss through the air, landing in the same grid square as the mermaid. 

There was a loud, low, resounding screech. All the buttons that were not thrown sprouted legs and started collecting behind the generator. They clicked their metal spider legs across the floor, paying no mind to any of the people or monsters they passed. One of the bombs got unlucky enough to be shot by Mark, sitting in place behind the mermaid as it laughed. 

Mark didn’t waste any time waiting for his party to take action. With his high speed, he lunged toward the mermaid, implanting his knee into the ground before firing multiple rounds of gunshots at its face. He stood, taking out two knives from his thigh gear, and stuck it into the mermaids' skin. 

The bullets and knives did real damage to the abnormality, but the materials faded into its skin, and it forced the creature to cry. She whimpered over her voice. “I thought… you loved me… I loved you… Why don’t you love me?” 

Mark’s only reply was a look of pure joy on his face. 

Hah… no wonder his relationship with Chesh didn’t work out… Hyde scoffed. Look at the way he scoffs at another’s pain. 

Jekyll narrowed her eyes. It’s an abnormality. It deserves to be punished. 

I doubt all of them are bad, Hyde shrugged. They could’ve been put to good use, somehow. The ones we’ve met are just… really clingy. 

Mallo adjusted the gun in her hands, clocking it with prepared bullets before she turned to Jatayu. “Can you change into a ranged ID?” It was more of a demand than a suggestion. “So we can shoot this thing; I have an idea.” 

Jatayu turned slowly toward Mallo after a long stare in Dante’s direction. Perhaps he was checking to see if the manager was okay. He nodded towards the former employee. “I’m all ears.” 

“Let’s shoot the abnormality when we are out of its range,” Mallo gestured to her gun, pointing it at the mermaid who was distracted by Mark. 

Jatayu nodded, changing into his G Corp ID. “That sounds like a wonderful idea,” he smirked. “Do you think this will do?” 

Wait… we can change our own IDs at will? Jekyll stood dumbfounded, staring at Jatayu. How did he do that? 

…We could always try. Later, though. 

Mallo wasn’t impressed. “Is it ranged?” 

Jatayu outstretched his arm, aiming for the brokenhearted mermaid. “You tell me.” 

His arm shot forth two attacks of some type of energy Jekyll couldn’t describe. They blasted through the air with a static sound before burning the abnormalities’ skin. The creature shrank back, its eyes becoming dark. 

What the hell did the party do to break its spirit? Jekyll raised an eyebrow. What did I miss? 

It doesn’t matter, Hyde snapped her fingers. Let’s get out of here while we can. They got this fight in the bag. 

Jekyll shut the panel of the generator gently and turned north, her footsteps echoing softly on the red floor. 

“Jekyll! Hyde!” 

Jekyll flinched as she heard Mallo call out her name. Oh, no…

What does this selfish brat want now? Hyde narrowed her eyes. Ignore her–

Jekyll had already turned to face Mallo, staring at her with the most blank, stoic expression she could muster despite her inner turmoil. 

“I have an idea,” the woman took a step closer. “Do you have an ID that is a long-range weapon? Can you switch to it?” 

Jekyll glanced to the floor. “I do,” she replied softly. “The LCCB manager–” 

But we are not changing into it, right? Hyde’s voice was low and threatening. You need me to get out of here. 

“Dante! Switch Jekyll into the LCCB manager ID!” 

Jekyll stared up in fright, her arms outstretched to say no. Wait! I didn’t agree–

Dante’s faint voice could be heard amongst his faint flames in the distance. “On it!”

Jekyll clasped her hands over her mouth, feeling her clothes immediately shift into ones so familiar yet foreign to her. Her paintbrush shifted into a gun, and her mind became more at ease. 

Hyde, I’m so sorry–

There was nothing but a lingering feeling of disapproval as Hyde was flung into the back of the mind, forced to stay silent. 

Jekyll peeked behind the generator, spotting the mermaid. She zoned out as Mallo went over the plan again. Having already heard it, Jekyll adjusted the scope on her firearm before firing two bullets: one at the mermaid, and one at the bombs. The bullet sank into the mermaid’s skull, and the bullet flew straight into the slit of the bomb with careful precision. 

The bombs exploded immediately after her shot. They damaged Mallo, Lenore, the demon syndicates, and the mermaid. The light around them was almost blinding, and the stench of ash and fire fueled the air, making it difficult for Jekyll to breathe. 

The mermaid cried out in pain with an eerie screech before diving back into the floor like it was water. She disappeared from sight, but the water portals on the wall returned. It was about to soar across the grid once more. 

Lenore grunted as she got up from the explosion before walking up to the demon syndicates and conversing with them. By the looks of it, they agreed not to fight each other and focus on the mermaid first. 

Jekyll bit her tongue. Oh, so when others converse with the enemy it’s totally fine–

A certain drive filled Jekyll, and an aggravating light radiated from the pack attached to her ID back. Her eyes filled with terror as the water portals targeted her. Anxiety wrapped around her heart and neck, seizing control of her hyperventilation. She had gained too much aggro, and the mermaid was forced to target her. 

Mallo! Mallo what have you done?! She glanced around in a panic, calculating quickly what she had to do to survive. You sentenced me to death with this ID! 

The first portal summoned the mermaid, and it came flying at her with great speed. Jekyll barely managed to leap out of the way, coughing up the water that soaked her and almost drowned her on the spot. She scrambled to her feet, placing her gun on her back and running behind the generator. 

The second portal went off, splashing Jekyll from head to toe behind her. She barely stood her ground as she discovered all of the bomb buttons surrounding a box with a green button on top of it. The bombs! Perhaps I can survive this! 

As she hastily pressed the green buttons, all of the smaller bomb boxes attached themselves inside the green button box, collecting each other into one container. Jekyll tapped her foot anxiously, hoping the hissing sound would come before the next portal activated. 

Nothing happened. The box simply spun around, revealing itself to be a tool abnormality, and gifting Jekyll with an EGO and an EGO gift. 

That… Jekyll sighed, picking up the objects and equipping them. That wasn’t what I needed right now! She glanced at the portals still targeting her. I needed you to explode, not gift me! How is this going to help me?!

More shots of guns went off on the other side of the generator. She could hear Lenore and Mark arguing. 

“You idiot! What are you doing?!” Lenore shouted. “We have a bigger fish to fry, literally!” 

“It is unwise to associate with the enemy!” Mark retorted.

“Dante! Can we not have a truce with the enemy for now as we deal with the abnormality?!” 

Dante and Lenore continued to converse, but Jekyll did not have time to listen into the conversation. She dove into a separate grid with all her force, barely avoiding another mermaid swipe. Anything in its path was drenched and destroyed, planting and growing fear in Jekyll’s heart. 

Hyde, where are you when I need you?! Why did I have to be in THIS ID?!

If Jekyll knew her kit well enough from the ID memories, she knew the aggro wasn’t going to go away anytime soon. It was designed to be targeted first and deal damage first in human combat, not when facing an abnormality. 

The radio on Jekyll’s ID rang, vibrating on her chest. “Ugh Jekyll it’s me, Mallo…” Mallo drew out her words, apparently annoyed to talk to her. “Dante is telling me to tell you to stay safe or whatever, ugh… bye.” 

Jekyll’s hands shook as she took her eyes off the water portals on the walls and onto her walkie-talkie. She unclipped it from her chest strap and stared at it in her hands. She… she really doesn’t want to talk to me… Jekyll held back a few tears. Hyde… Hyde was right… She pressed a button on the radio to automatically reply before taking off, avoiding yet another close attack from the mermaid that came flying towards her. 

She rolled across the floor, going under the mermaid’s big waves. She coughed up water and wiped her face before stumbling on her feet, and taking off to the other side of the room. The abnormalities' strikes only lasted two seconds before they reached the other side, which didn’t give Jekyll proper time to plan a counterattack. She panicked, and the only thing that came to mind was to flee and get out of the room. Although that was her original plan, Jekyll felt more justified in doing so. 

The mermaid was careful to target Jekyll each time; she barely dodged each one, getting drenched in the waves in the aftermath of each attack. Her heart pounded as she ran, struggling to breathe and see. She wondered if she would make it to the other side alive, or if the mermaid would kill her before she could. Her vision became blurred and her eyes burned from the water splashing against them. The mermaid zoomed in front of her, almost knocking her off her feet as the water forced her to the floor again. Jekyll coughed, clenching her chest, Her feet ached from all the twists and turns. I’m so close!

More shots can be heard behind her, causing Jekyll’s head to spin. The radio in her hand beeped as Mallo spoke again. “Bullets are ineffective, proceed with caution,” the robotic voice echoed. 

Gee, you think?! Jekyll scoffed before ducking again, avoiding yet another strike from the mermaid. Jekyll felt her sanity drop as she continued to make her way to the unlocked door. Everything in her body ached, and she shivered from the cold as she lost feeling in her hands. 

Another portal formed behind Jekyll. She stumbled to the floor and glanced behind her, scrambling to move out of the way. However, her side ached and she threw up into a heap of coughs, her eyes widening as the portal swished back and forth, indicating that the mermaid was about to fly from it. 

Jekyll closed her eyes and counted to four, embracing for impact. However, nothing came. She opened her eyes slowly, struggling to stand on her feet as she glanced down the grid line to the portal. 

Jatayu was in the way of her and the mermaid. He was in his base ID, and one of his tanfas was on the floor. His free hand rested on his chest… no, it was in his chest. He reached into himself and pulled out what looked like to be a mechanical heart. It glowed bright blue as it hung from artificial blood vessels still hooked into Jatayu’s body. He crushed his heart with his hands, slamming the remains into the ground. As he did so, a large, blue barrier surrounded him, blocking the mermaid’s path. The life drained from Jatayu’s face as the mermaid emerged from the portal, slamming into the blue force field at full force. It was as if the abnormality had run into an indestructible wall. It cowered back in pain, crying before it plunged into the metal floor again, it and its water portals disappearing. 

Jatayu fell to the ground, limp over his broken heart, hanging onto life by a thin thread. 

“Jatayu!” Jekyll clasped her hands over her mouth, trying to find the energy to run over to him. 

Mallo got to him first, and Jekyll was too far away. Jekyll could see Mallo talking into the LCCB manager walkie talkie. “No need to shout, Jekyll. Uhh, Jatayu took his heart out? Can he do that? He made a shield with it too, is that normal?” 

Jekyll stopped in her tracks, seeing her comrade on the floor. She took shallow breaths and felt as if she would pass out. Why did he do that? Why?!

“Look, Dante will heal him. It’ll be fine, okay?” Mallo voiced into the radio, her head turned to Jekyll’s direction. 

Jekyll glanced around the generator the best she could from her perspective. The demon syndicates looked around the room, trying to find the mermaid. When they didn’t, they turned on Jekyll’s comrades, running towards Mallo and the unconscious Jatayu. 

It’ll… It’ll be fine… Jekyll took slow steps back, glancing around. They… they got this… 

Her steps led her until she was in front of the mechanical door once more. All the lights were lit up, and the door was ready to be open, the mechanism no longer prohibiting entrance. Jekyll ran into it with her back before she turned around. Now’s the time to get out of here… She stammered in her own thoughts, guilt replacing her worry. They don’t care… remember? They don’t care about me… They can do this without me… That’s what they’ve been saying this whole time. 

It bothered Jekyll that she had to convince herself to move forward. She hesitated, glancing over her shoulder back at the fallen Jatayu. Is he going to be okay? 

The doctor’s radio went off again. “Do you know how to put a mechanical heart back in, Jekyll?” 

Jekyll couldn’t leave Mallo hanging with a question like that. Everything in her resisted replying as the mere thought of talking to Mallo repulsed her. I hate that I want to help you when you only lied to me… “It’s mechanical right?” She turned on her radio and spoke as calmly as she could. “Have you tried putting it inside of the body?” 

She knew that hearts needed CPR to help pump the blood inside them, but those were for biological hearts. Beyond that, she had no knowledge of mechanical hearts. Why is she asking me? I thought Dante was going to help. 

The radio cut out, giving a scraped piece of what Mallo said. “...Off his hands… and kill… him? I don’t know.” 

…What? Jekyll paused before radioing back. “It’s mechanical… does it need to be charged?” 

“I’m just gonna put it in,” the radio turned off. There was a moment of silence. 

Jekyll sighed and eyed the door, staring at the seeping blue gas. Thankfully, she didn’t have as much showing skin so it couldn’t itch. However, it still made it difficult to breathe. Is the next room full of this stuff? 

The radio turned back on. “I got Jatayu up,” Mallo sighed in relief. “He’s slowly recovering and Dante is winding the clock back.” 

Oh. Jekyll sighed. So, they truly didn’t need me. “Roger, I’m close to the next door.” 

There was a loud silence. “...Why are you at the next door?” Mallo’s voice carried demand and disappointment at the same time. “We need to clear a way for Dante! Also, may I remind you, that Jatayu JUST TOOK HIS HEART OUT!” 

Jekyll turned down the volume of the walkie-talkie, wincing as Mallo yelled into it. But, you took care of the issue without me. You don’t need me there. 

“Come back here, NOW, Jekyll,” Mallo demanded, her voice fueled with a wave of fiery anger. “Now! That is an order!” 

Jekyll clenched her fists around her gun and radio. Anger boiled inside of her. Where were you when I was about to be murdered by the mermaid? You sentenced me to death with this ID, Mallo. You have no love in your heart, why should I show you mine? 

A familiar sense of pride built up inside her; a pride that did not belong to her directly. Jekyll could feel emotions that Hyde usually felt, but she couldn’t put her finger on why. She decided to try and blow off the order by giving an excuse. “Dante instructed me to get to the next door,” she lied. “So I continued onward.” 

“No, Dante told you to stay safe!” Mallo saw right through her lies like a bullet and shot the bullseye. “That’s what I told you, but now I’m ordering you to come back here and protect Jatayu now!” 

No. A deep-planted rage fueled inside Jekyll, one that spun out of her control. Turn it off. 

Jekyll was taken aback, her eyes widening. Hyde?! She turned the radio off, feeling overly compliant to the voice that supposedly wasn’t supposed to be there. Are you there? 

There was no reply. The anger subsided the moment she obeyed.

Jekyll took a moment to process what happened before filling her actions with determination. I must move quickly… I don’t have much time before she comes after me. Her hands rested on the split of the door. I have to get the golden bough and get out of here… Leaving them behind, because… She bit her tongue again, her fingers clenching. They didn’t come to my aid. Like Hyde said… Like Hyde has shown me before, people like them are not worth my time of day. I should not protect them when they are a threat to me. 

Jekyll swung the large red door open. The blue fog filled her face and covered her surroundings, making her invisible to any outside onlooker. She coughed and waved her hand around, taking a step into the next room and leaving her party behind. 

As she stepped into the next room, the environment around her changed. According to her observations, she was no longer in a lobotomy corporation facility. All she could see was a simple plain covered in blue fog. The environment was filled with a deep aura of regret which was felt with each breath she took. The place was dark, and there was an eerie but faint smell of fire. The blue gas was everywhere, covering visible objects, unlike the shadows in the previous room. 

Slightly northeast of Jekyll flew a large, blue butterfly. It was covered in various eyes across its wings, and it stared at Jekyll with its intense antennas. It shared many shades of blue across its features, and it was as if its eyes read Jekyll’s soul like a book. 

Jekyll tried to crouch in the gas, trying to hide from its many gazes. When it followed her movements, she sighed and stood up, figuring it was no use to hide if it already spotted her. She glanced around to see a few demon syndicates amid the fog, whilst one of them ran north with a shiny object in his grasp. It was a faint, golden glow, but it wasn’t so bright that it blinded Jekyll. It resonated with her, called to her, and begged her to come close. Despite never seeing one before, Jekyll immediately knew what it was. The golden bough… 

The demon syndicate ran toward the north wall where a bunch of stairs led upward. He took off up them with great speed, leaving Jekyll and the other syndicate members alone with the abnormality. Jekyll adjusted her gun and started walking towards the stairs, but stopped as the abnormality slowly approached her. 

“Uh… Hi…” Jekyll backed up, trying to make her movements unpredictable. “...Blink twice if you can understand me.” 

“I do not need your incompetent and incompatible ways of communication.” The butterfly sneered in a cocky, stuck-up voice. “Co-co-co,” it laughed in a mocking tone as its gaze intensified, making Jekyll feel as if she was being turned inside out and read like a book. “You have a lot you wish to share, don’t you?” 

Nope, that’s suspicious, I am not dealing with that! Jekyll crouched again, gently moving to her left. Hyde! I need you right now! I need your help! I need to get out of here! 

She froze for a second, watching the butterfly get closer. She searched her mind for any information before a light bulb went off in her head. The IDs… Jatayu changed IDs all on his own, surely there’s a way to do it… Do I have a fast ID that can get me out of here? 

The fog surrounding Jekyll made it difficult for her to breathe. She coughed; it felt as if her pain and struggle to breathe made the butterfly move faster toward her. Hyde… she sighed. I know you can hear me… you have a stronger mind than I do. Take control, change my ID, I permit you! Please, help me–

Jekyll felt a chain wrap around her chain of thought. Her eyes widened in surprise as she felt the weight of the LCCB manager pack lifted off her back. Her clothes became more sleek and agile, and her gun transformed into a large, red katana. Her hair was slicked back into a ponytail, and she felt her tongue disappear. 

Jekyll was thrown into the back of the mind, unable to speak as Hyde surfaced. Hyde glanced around and quickly analyzed the situation and the ID she transformed into. Huh. Shi ID. Perfect. She cracked her neck, getting used to not having a tongue. Dangit, why can’t I speak? What– oh. The memories of this ID flooded back to her, and she recalled how the current equipped ID lost her tongue. …Well, at least we know we can change IDs on the spot with enough willpower and fear, right Jekyll? 

No one answered her. 

A tinge of pain filled Hyde’s heart. Unlike the other ID from Nagul Und Hammer, this one felt as if it missed Jekyll in her world. Hyde sighed, adjusting her agile sword, and started to walk around the abnormality at a slow speed. It’s close… I can feel it… 

The butterfly waited a few more seconds before it fluttered its wings and flung right at Hyde, preparing for an attack. 

But Hyde was faster. She had gained great haste with her new abilities. She dodged the attack with ease and dashed through the fog towards the north stairs. Nothing but dust and a flash of red light was left in her previous path. She quickly stepped onto the first step, having crossed the entire room with incredible ease. She adjusted the mask over her face as she glanced back, eyeing the abnormality. 

The multi-eyed butterfly only laughed at her. “Co-co-co…” It muttered gently as it flapped onto the ground. If it had a mouth to grin, it would have. 

The golden bough was up ahead; the syndicate member was not far away from her. Hyde raised her middle finger to the abnormality, flipping it off before she dashed up the stairs. Her eyes were locked on the target ahead. It’s right there, the golden bough is so close, then we can leave this company… 

Guilt could not find a place to claim in Hyde’s mind. She felt no remorse for leaving her party behind; the thought didn’t even pass her consideration. Her feet effortlessly flew up the stairs, gaining ground on her target with great haste. She was a Section 3 assassin after all; nothing would put her between her and her prey. 

The stairs went up high until Hyde reached the surface. Despite the previous experience in the Q Corp Backstreets, Hyde found herself on top of a grassy plateau with a bright sun shining down upon her. The day was at its highest peak. The sun gleamed down on the beautiful meadow before her, and a gentle breeze tangled Hyde’s long hair. 

The demon syndicate member continued to run, having spotted Hyde chasing him. He cried out in fright and panted from exhaustion, clutching the glowing object in his hands. He looked back at Hyde, fear glistening in his silver eyes. His dirty-blonde hair bounced up and down in curls as his foot hit the ground, trying to find a direction to run. He was trying to get away and hide the object in his hands, but the golden glow on his face told the painter exactly what it was. He picked the direction of the cliff at the end of the plateau, running towards it. 

Hesitation was not a word Hyde knew. She charged at her target, her sword drawn as she caught up to him with great speed and accuracy, slicing his back. 

The sky darkened. As the demon syndicate cried out in pain and fell forward on the object he was holding, the sun started to hide behind an object that grew bigger by the second. She was more than fast enough to catch her target, however, she only had a few split seconds to book it out of the approaching threat from above. 

The sun dimmed before it disappeared, and the object blocking the sun became bigger; it was a large spire falling down to where she stood. The shadow of it covered her face, making it difficult to assess which direction she should run in. The air rumbled and the ground shook. 

Aw f–

Hyde didn’t have time to react as the spire came crashing down on her, crushing her ribs as she was flung back from the impact. The demon syndicate man and the object he was holding were crushed under the weight of the spire in front of Hyde. It loomed like a large tower, and the shockwave of its descent sent Hyde flying back into the base of the tree. 

Hyde coughed in pain, rolling on her side. She barely survived the freak accident, the incident having zapped at least eighty percent of her health. The meadow was gone; it turned into a grand monument to climb. Dust filled the air as the landscape and sky became dark. The sun looked like it had come down from the sky and rested on top of the spire. As Hyde grunted in pain, she heard a booming voice that shook every fiber of her being. 

“I’M BACK!”