#in a chapter full of fights and redemption

[faun-the-fawn77]

"𝐻𝒪𝑀𝐸"

Lucifer Morningstar x F!Angel!Reader

Genre: FLUFF/ANGST

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Lilith is a bitch, manipulation, violence, emotional abuse, Michael is okay now, Lucifer and Y/N very much in love, Adam isn't an asshole but he still swears

Desc: PART TWO! After that phone call, Lucifer couldn’t go back to his room. Not with Lilith in it. He fell asleep in the little loveseat by the window with his phone in hand, Y/N’s number on full display. The cleaning imp came into the room that morning to tidy up when they spotted the king curled up in the loveseat. They picked up the discarded phone only to notice that a number from Heaven had called…and that the call lasted well into the night. The imp looked at their king and back down to the phone. Surely Lilith had to know about this. She’s the queen! Lucifer woke up slowly and noticed Lilith sitting at his desk with a cup of tea in hand and another cup placed at the chair in front of the desk. Lucifer then knew that Lilith had found out… And Hell was about to rain down.

Note: ahhhh long summary again:') i dont like filler chapters so i try to put more detail in summaries so i dont have to write out a lil something for before the event. Hope you don't mind! Also! Requests are open!!

I’m staring out into the night

Tryin’ to hide the pain

I’m going to the place where love

And feeling good don’t ever cost a thing

And the pain you feel’s a different kind of pain

The view from the top of Heaven’s headquarters in Hell was beautiful. It felt as if you could reach Heaven just by stretching your arm out towards it. Lucifer was doing just that. He wanted to be home. To be in the arms of his lover once more. The fight with Lilith that day really drained him and it hurt him badly with some of the words she spat at him. He knew it wasn’t true, what Lilith had said about Y/N. Trying to hide the pain from his face when she said those awful things was hard. 

He sat atop the building some more to make sure his emotions were in check before he took off to his daughter’s hotel. Despite them being sinners, the people there made him feel loved. His daughter was doing absolutely amazing with her hotel. It’s a place where feeling good never costs a thing. 

Lucifer spread out his six wings and took flight towards the redemption hotel. He wanted to talk to Charlie about the call. Get some ideas and pointers about… well, everything. He had to make sure that Charlie knew that he and her mother were over and that he wanted to get back together with his actual wife. 

He created a portal mid-flight and soared right into the lobby of the hotel. He put his wings away and dropped to the carpeted ground. He noticed the cat demon at the bar cleaning glasses and stopping to sip on a bottle of whiskey. 

Lucifer walked towards the bar and took a seat. He huffed and grumpily asked the cat, “Where’s Charlie?”

Husk looked up and raised a brow at the grumpy king. He set down the glass he was cleaning and brought out the ingredients to make an appletini. 

“She’s doing some exercise with the others. Said she’ll be back in…actually a few minutes.” Lucifer grumbled some more. He needed to talk to his daughter and he couldn’t wait the few minutes. The appletini was slid in front of him and he picked it up only to down it in one go.

Charlie burst through the doors of the hotel with her girlfriend, Vaggie, and the rest of the residents in tow. Charlie took one look at her father, who was downing drinks left and right, and immediately knew something was wrong. 

“Hey, dad! How-uh-how are you today?” Charlie placed a hand on her fathers shoulder as comfort. Lucifer turned to look at her and he immediately lit up with happiness. 

“Oh, my sweet apple! You have no idea how much I’ve needed to talk to you! Come! Let’s head to the penthouse!” Lucifer took his daughter’s hand and dragged her through the gold portal he created with a snap of his claws. Vaggie tried to follow only for the portal shut close in front of her.

Lucifer sat Charlie on the couch and took a seat next to her. He took a deep breath before telling her everything, “Char, your mother and I are…no longer together. Considering a little someone I know gave my wife my number, Lilith found out about the night we talked and we had gotten into a fight.”

Charlie looked at her dad. She knew that he knew it was her that gave Y/N his number. Charlie loved Y/N when they first met in Heaven. She was so sweet and Charlie could see how much Y/N missed Lucifer. When they had talked after the meeting, Charlie learned what her mother had done to the two lovers. How she had manipulated her father into doing those sins and that her mother was the one that made Lucifer fall and get torn away from Y/N. She wanted so bad to tear Lilith a new one but that just wasn’t her. Sure, she had her mother’s temper but Lilith was still her mother. She’ll definitely have few choice words for Lilith when she goes to her family home. 

“Does she hate Y/N that bad? What did Y/N ever do to her?” Lucifer looked at his daughter and let out a sad laugh.

“Y/N had what Lilith wanted: Me. Lilith was human and humans are tempted by the things they can’t have. When Lilith saw Y/N talking to me in the garden after I had visited Adam, that’s when she started to speak to me. It gradually went from normal conversations to Lilith flirting with me and touching me in ways only a lover should. I should have stopped it but I didn’t know any better. I have never interacted with humans considering they were the first to be created. When Y/N had yelled at me that day and we fought about it, I finally realised what was happening. Lilith figured it out and started to manipulate me into thinking that Y/N hated me and that she didn’t want me around so… I Fell. I Fell because of your mother.” Charlie was quiet. She was processing everything that her dad had said. She was even more upset that her mother was cruel enough to tear her dad and, what could’ve been her mom, apart. 

“When I talked with Y/N last night, she mentioned a plan.” Charlie perked up at that.

“A plan? Do you know what her plan is?” Lucifer shook his head. He wished he knew but Y/N said she had it under control and that it will be happening sooner rather than later. 

“We’ll just have to wait and see, apple pie.”

Well, I’m going home

Back to the place where I belong

And where your love has always been enough for me

I’m not running from

No, I think you got me all wrong

I don’t regret this life I chose for me

But these places and these faces are getting old

So I’m going home

Y/N called him a few minutes later. Charlie was still with her dad, Vaggie had joined them. Lucifer was quick to answer the phone and put it on speaker so the other two could hear.

“Hello, love. How are you?” Her voice was sweet. Vaggie immediately recognised the voice as the one who would always talk to Adam during their training. That was the only time Vaggie had ever seen Adam polite and smiling a genuine smile. 

Vaggie was quick to blurt out, “You’re the one who talks to Adam during the exorcist training days,” she covered her mouth in embarrassment. Charlie giggled while Lucifer looked at the other fallen angel with a smirk.

“Oh? There’s another fallen angel down there?” Lucifer hummed and confirmed. He made sure to mention that his daughter and her lover were there in the room.

“Charlie! Oh, I’ve missed you! And I assume Vaggie is the one that joined you in Heaven for the meeting? I’m sad that we couldn’t talk then.” Vaggie blushed at how sweet the archangel’s voice was. 

“What did you want to talk about, honey?” Lucifer and them could hear muffles on the other end. 

“The plan. It’s happening now. Adam is the one that mainly uses the portals to Hell and when I mentioned to him that I had gotten back in contact with you, he jumped to help out immediately. He misses his best friend, Luci. He wants to destroy Lilith for what she did to us and to Eve.” Charlie and Vaggie were surprised by this information. Adam was best friends with Lucifer? But Adam hated Hell…

“I’ve missed him as well. So, what’s the plan?” The three of them leaned closer to the phone to hear the plan.

“Adam is gonna open a portal for me. He’s going to lead the army down and make an attack but only to injure, not kill. He has a special group of exorcists that he’ll lead to where Lilith currently is and try to subdue her. If we can trap her and cage her, we’ll have you three and the army will retreat to Heaven. I’ll then demand a meeting with Michael and Sera to explain what had happened eons ago. Who was responsible and that Hell can make things work between them and Heaven. Hopefully, with you three there and Adam, we’ll have Lilith locked away for eternity and we can have the sinners down there redeemed with Charlie’s hotel and that you guys can visit up here whenever.” The three were silent. They looked at each other and then nodded.

“Sounds amazing, Y/N! Oh, I’m so excited for this! Just-uh- can I talk to my mom first?” Charlie nervously asked. She wasn’t gonna mention any of this to Lilith but she wanted answers.

“Of course, sweetheart. I know that she’s still your mother and that you have questions for her. And I know you won’t mention this to her.” Charlie almost cried. Lilith was never this sweet to her. Lilith wanted her to rule Hell but now that Y/N is back in picture… Charlie wanted to see what Heaven was like and to see her father happy. 

“I’ve always known that Hell wasn’t truly my home… and that dad had missed something about Heaven. When I was there, I just…felt so at home. Like I belonged. Adam was welcoming when I said my last name. He made sure to take my side during the meeting with Sera,” Charlie stammered out. 

“You’ll be home soon, sweetpea. Go talk to your mom and when you’re back at the hotel have your dad text me and we’ll begin with the plan.” Charlie mumbled a yes and went to gather her thoughts before confronting her mother.

Lucifer watched as Vaggie guided his daughter out of the penthouse. He turned to the phone and sighed.

“I know this is hard on her but…”

“There is no ‘but’, Luci. It’s her mother. Sure, her mother is a bitch but she’s only known Lilith as her mother and not as the monster that tore Heaven apart. That tore us apart.” Lucifer was quiet. Y/N was right. Charlie is gonna have a hard time accepting that her mother is evil. 

“I can’t wait to be home. The places and faces down here are getting old. We’ll just have to make sure that the Sin’s can also visit. They’ll love you!” That’s when Lucifer went on to talk about his family down here and Y/N asking questions about them.

Well, I’m going home

The miles are getting longer, it seems

The closer I get to you

I’ve not always been the best man or friend for you

But your love remains true, and I don’t know why

You always seem to give me another try

Charlie was livid. She loved her mom and now? She doesn’t think she can love her the same again. When she had arrived at the manor, Lilith was smiling and sitting on the couch in the living room. She was swirling a glass of tequila around in her hand and beckoned her daughter to sit by her.

“Charlie! Oh, how I’ve missed you!” Charlie took a seat away from her, on the chair closest to the exit. Charlie folded her hands in her lap to keep her shaking at a minimum.

“Hello, mother. I-uh-I missed you too…” Lilith tilted her head, setting her drink down, and leaning closer towards Charlie’s direction. The smile on her face was unnerving for Charlie.

“Why so nervous? It’s just your mother!” Charlie laughed nervously. She bounced her leg with anxiety and looked away from her mom.

“I have a few questions for you… I hop-”

“Is this about your father and that stupid bitch of an angel? For the love of Satan, that bitch manages to screw me over now of all times? And to turn my daughter against me?” Lilith broke the glass of alcohol in her hand. Charlie jumped and sunk as far as she could into the chair. She’s never seen her mother this mad.

“Y/N is not a-”

“Of course she is, darling! She had what I wanted and when I made sure that the two had hated each other, someone gave Lucifer her number and now they know the truth! Now my plan is in ruins all thanks to the fucking prick who-”

“I gave Y/N his number.” That shut Lilith up quickly. Lilith turned to look at her daughter who was red in the face with anger.

“I gave her dad’s number because when I went up there to convince them that my redemption plan will work, I ran into her and we got to talking. When I brought up dad, I have never seen a being so sad. She told me everything so when I talked to dad about it today…Why would you do that? They’re so in love and you destroyed something that was so pure. Are humans really that selfish?” Charlie could feel the tears in her eyes. Her mother, a human turned demon, was really so selfish? Selfish enough to turn two lovers against each other because she wanted Lucifer?

“Humans have always been selfish! Have you seen the amount of sinners here in Hell? They’re all here because they’re selfish!” Charlie stood up, marched up to the taller demoness, and slapped her across the face.

“You are not my mom. You’re not fit to even be a mother. A mother is supposed to care about her child! She’s supposed to be sweet and nurturing! You are a monster!” Charlie huffed. The tears burned down her cheeks as she stared at the shocked look on Lilith’s face. A handprint was beginning to redden on Lilith’s cheek. 

“I hope you rot.” With that, Charlie walked out of the manor that she had once called home. 

Lucifer hugged his crying daughter to his chest. He held her tightly, rocking side to side, shushing her quietly and whispering reassurances into her pointed ear. He wanted so badly to rain Hell down upon that bitch but his daughter was more important. He sat her onto the couch, covering her in a blanket and motioning for Vaggie to take over. 

“I’m gonna send a text out to Y/N and tell her we’re ready.” Vaggie nodded, holding tightly onto her girlfriend 

“I’m glad Y/N gave you another try, dad…” CHarlie mumbled. Lucifer looked at her and smiled. Even in her current state, Charlie had put others before herself. Lucifer was glad that Y/N had contacted him. He definitely wasn’t the best being or friend but at least Y/N and Adam are giving him another try. Another chance.

So I’m going home

Back to the place where I belong

And where your love has always been enough for me

I’m not running from

No, I think you got me all wrong

I don’t regret this life I chose for me

But these places and these faces are getting old

Y/N was pacing in front of the Garden. Adam was late. Why was he late? She chewed on her thumb nail as a million thoughts ran through her head about what could’ve happened to her friend. 

“Where are you…” She muttered to herself. The flap of wings caught her attention and she looked up to see the golden wings of her beloved friend frantically flying her way. The breath stuck in her throat was released as the weight from her shoulders lifted. 

“Oh my, Adam! I almost had a panic attack! Why are you so late?” Adam was panting from how fast he had to fly there. He placed both of his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N/N. Lute was up my ass about Sera needing me for something. I totally ditched them but I’m so gonna get an earful from both of them later. So, is Luci boy in on the plan?” Y/N smiled. She told him what went down. That Lilith was gonna be in foul mood now that her own daughter had turned against her.

“Let’s bring them home, Adam. Right where they belong.” Adam hugged Y/N to him and patted her back. He knew how much she missed her husband. Lucifer was everything to her. They’ve been together since almost the beginning of time. Adam could see why Lucifer had chosen her out of all the others. She was sweet, charismatic, and so kind to every soul that was in Heaven. She was always there for Adam when he needed her, especially when the whole thing with Eve happened. 

“I wish I could kill that blonde bitch but… making her suffer in Heaven’s jail? That’s definitely punishment enough.” Adam smirked and pulled his mask back on. 

“Let’s do this!” 

In Hell, Lucifer waited for a text from his wife that they were on their way. When his phone quacked, he lunged for it and checked to see if it was his beloved. 

“They’re here! Everyone! Aim to injure, not kill! They’re here as our friend, not enemy. Lilith has run this place into the ground far enough!” The residents of the hotel hollered with glee and proceeded to ready themselves for attack. Lucifer flew towards his daughter to make sure she was protected.

“Ready, apple pie?” Charlie nodded. She wanted both Heaven and Hell to thrive. If getting rid of her mo- Lilith was the best way then she was all for it.

“I’m ready, dad.” The two smiled at each other. 

The portal to Heaven opened and an army of grey-clad angels rained down on the ring of Pride. Lucifer saw Adam and a group of angels head towards the manor. The group prepared for combat only to see that none of the angels went near the hotel. They seemed to steer clear of the area.

Lucifer was confused. He was told that this was supposed to be made as an attack. He turned around when the others gasped. He almost cried tears of joy at the sight of his wife in front of him. He raced towards the taller angel and caged her in with a bear hug. 

“Oh my Father, I’ve missed you! I didn’t think I would ever get the chance to touch you again…” Lucifer cried into her neck. This is the happiest he’s been since Charlie was born. He was home.

“I’ve missed you too, Luci.” Y/N whispered into his hair. She hugged him just as tightly, like he was gonna disappear from her arms. 

Lucifer pulled away, took her face into his hands, and kissed her. Her lips were just as soft as he remembered. Her face was wet with tears but so was his. He moaned into the kiss and tangled his claws into her hair. He could feel his lover’s hands dig into his back as she kissed back just as passionately. 

Charlie awed at the sight. She grabbed onto Vaggie’s hand and looked at her with love. Vaggie was blushing but smiling at the love of her life. 

“Dad? Sorry to interrupt but I think Adam had cau-”

“WHAT’S UP, BITCHES!” Adam’s booming voice yelled out from the sky. The couple and others looked up to see Adam and his army holding Lilith, who was bound by Heavenly rope, entering their field of view. Lilith was dropped onto the ground roughly. Her dress was shredded in places and one of her horns were broken off, cuts and bruises littered her violet skin. 

“She must’ve really put up a fight, huh?” Lucifer looked at Lilith with contempt. Lilith glared past him and right at Y/N.

“Ready to head back to Heaven?” Y/N gathered Charlie in her arms while Vaggie and Lucifer spread out their wings. 

“Alastor! Please watch over the hotel while I’m gone!” Charlie yelled out. The angels took flight and flew through the portal that was open to Heaven. This was it. Hopefully this was the end of the war between Heaven and Hell.

Be careful what you wish for

‘Cause you just might get it all

You just might get it all

And then some you don’t want

Be careful what you wish for

‘Cause you just might get it all

You just might get it all, yeah

“What are these… beings…doing here, Y/N?” Michael was looking at Lucifer with disgust. Sera was glaring holes into Adam, who avoided the seraphim’s gaze. 

“Michael, do you remember why Lucifer was kicked out of Heaven?” Michael slowly nodded, switching his gaze from his brother to his brother’s ex-wife, or, what he assumed was his ex-wife.

“Well, when his daughter had visited a few weeks ago, I had gotten in contact with the king of Hell himself. Do you wanna know what I have learned?” Y/N nodded towards Adam. Adam nodded back and dragged Lilith, who was still bound, into the centre of the room. The angels around had gasped at the sight of the once beautiful human. Lilith glared at everyone and stopped her gaze on Michael. Michael was looking at her in surprise.

“I have learned that the mastermind behind the Lightbringer’s Fall was this human. She had become selfish, as humans do, and manipulated Lucifer into committing the sins that had caused him to Fall. The evidence comes from Lucifer himself, Adam, and the recording on Charlie Morningstar’s phone of when she had confronted her mother.” The angels on the balconies murmured to each other and looked at the fallen human with anger. 

Michael looked towards Sera, the seraphim frowning, and looked back at Y/N. He nodded and told them to make their statements.

Adam was the first to state about his time in the Garden. How Lilith had ignored him when he tried to talk to her just to get to know her. He told them how he had befriended Lucifer, who snuck into the Garden, and that Lucifer was slowly being manipulated after witnessing Lilith’s anger towards Y/N. 

Lucifer stood up next and told his side of the story. The angels were surprised by how sad the Morningstar was when he recounted his tale of Falling and having to leave his wife behind. That he thought she had hated him for the longest time because that was what Lilith had made him think. 

Finally, Charlie stood up and produced her phone. She tapped her screen and soon enough the recording played out. Everyone turned their eyes towards the demoness who sat silently. A smirk played on her dark lips and malice swirled in her red eyes.

Y/N stood up and looked at Michael, “Now, should we hear from the human herself?” Michael gazed intently into the smaller angel. He could feel his thoughts fighting to believe these angels. That humans could really be this selfish. He nodded slowly once again. 

Lilith sat up and smiled, “I didn’t do anything. Lucifer was the one that manipulated me. I’m only a human! How could I have power over an archangel?” 

Michael glared into the demoness’ eyes. He was royally pissed at this scum. With a booming voice, he announced, “Lilith, queen of Hell, is to be sentenced for life and to rot away in Heaven’s jail. She is not to eat, drink or talk to anyone for 50 years. She will have no light and no communication with the outside. Lilith, you are a liar. You have manipulated my baby brother into committing the sins that he has now repented for. I will also allow Lucifer and his daughter, Charlie Morningstar, access to Heaven. They will be allowed to have a home here. The exterminations of the sinners in Hell will stop and the hotel that Charlie Morningstar is hosting will be used to redeem those who wish to be redeemed and they will be allowed into Heaven.” With that, Michael spread his six wings and flew through the skylight. Lucifer, Y/N, Charlie and Vaggie cheered. 

Y/N turned to Adam and beckoned him over. Adam reluctantly joined in the group hug and smiled when he saw Lucifer gazing at his family happily. 

“Well, you guys know I can just talk my way out of that cell.” Lilith’s voice cut through the happy atmosphere. The group stopped and turned towards the demon.

“You will be guarded by Lute. I’m afraid nothing can get past her,” Adam smirked. Lute stood up and glared down at the tall queen. She roughly grabbed Lilith by the arm and dragged her to the high security prison. 

Lucifer turned back towards his wife, grabbed her hand and flew towards the skylight. He wanted to be alone with her for just a few minutes. He watched as she fumbled to spread her wings and follow him towards the Garden. When they landed, Lucifer took her face in his hands and kissed her. She gasped a bit before letting out a sigh and leaning into the kiss. 

Lucifer pulled away and rested his head on her chest. He could hear her heart beating and her breathing was calming his muddled mind. 

“You’re home, Luci. You’re finally home.” He hugged her tighter. Her words dug deep into his mind and settled in his heart. He was home. He was finally in her arms. 

Well, I’m going home

Back to the place where I belong

And where your love has always been enough for me

I’m not running from

No, I think you got me all wrong

I don’t regret this life I chose for me

But these places and these faces are getting old

I said these places and these faces are getting old

So I’m going home

I’m going home

IT"S DONE!!! Hope you all enjoy! If you wish to be tagged in any future works then please comment below! Hope you all have a wonderful night!

Taglist:

@alastorswifeee

@junieshohoho

[mrzombielover]

- slow ride ch1

feat. sinner!adam x fem!hotel worker!reader

series masterlist | next chapter

warnings: NSFW, enemies to fuckbuddies, adam and reader both suck, unhealthy relationships, size kink oooops, light degradation

a/n: oh my god this is so self indulgent. something is fr wrong with me bc all my favorite men are irrevocably fucked up and toxic and emotionally damaged and would treat me like shit teehee

wc: 2.2k

“You took my shame and you took my pride / And now you gonna take me for a slowride”

When even Charlie is trepidatious about checking someone in to the hotel, you know they’ve fucked up bad.

Adam had shown up, tail between his legs, admitting something about how he’s “desperate enough to try anything,” even this “stupid delusional humiliating hotel.”

Charlie, who’s more like an angel than Adam ever was, had ultimately decided that he could stay. After a lengthy and heated discussion, she’d reminded the group that the hotel’s policy states that everyone deserves a chance at redemption, regardless of the sins they’ve committed. Considering he killed your friend, you thought that was bullshit, but it’s Charlie’s hotel at the end of the day, and you’re just along for the ride.

You like Charlie, which is why you put up with having Adam around. She’s a good person- genuinely, deep down. There’s no hidden motives in her actions. You’ve not met many good people in your life, so she’s won your respect, even if you have your doubts about the hotel’s premise.

But for as much as you love her, you briefly questioned her sanity when she asked you to keep a special eye on Adam.

“…and how exactly is that the job of treasury secretary?” You deadpan.

“Wellll…” Charlie trails off, looking away for a moment. “It isn’t really. Buuut what if I was asking as a favor, for your friend?” She clasps her hands together, giving you a smile. You have to avert your eyes from the hopeful look on her face before your resolve cracks.

“No way in hell,” You say quickly.

“Please!”

“No,”

“Pleaseee!”

You bite your lip as you think. He’s obnoxious, yes, but what’s really the worst that could happen? You close your eyes and sigh.

“…you owe me one,”

You regret accepting every day. Nobody got along with Adam. Well, nobody except for Nifty, who seemed thrilled to have a real bad boy staying in the hotel. You, however, got along with him the least of all.

For someone who’d come to the hotel in his time of need- who was in no position to ask for anything other than forgiveness- Adam sure has a smartass mouth. It seems Charlie just wants to give you a brain aneurysm, that’s why she gave you this job. Even if that wasn’t her goal, that’s certainly the stage you’re approaching, because fighting with Adam everyday is 100% going to make you pop a blood vessel.

You can’t help it. Something about him- the way he acts, the forced proximity, just gets under your skin, makes your eye twitch. He should be groveling, begging for forgiveness, putting his heart and soul into bettering himself, yet all he does is bitch and moan. Constantly complaining would be one thing, hell’s full of whiners, but he also feels the need to voice every thought he’s ever had, which often includes insults and snide remarks about those around him. You’ve never been one to take that shit- though, nobody at the hotel really does. It seems to be much worse with you two, specifically, though.

The problem comes in because, as much as you hate to admit it, you might sometimes occasionally have some things in common with him. No, you’re not quite as loud or crude or obnoxious, you don’t generally insult people for fun, but if someone deserves it?

You’ve tore into people for way less than murdering your friend, showing up on your doorstep and being a pain in your ass 24/7, especially if you’re in a particularly shitty mood. Reduced people to tears for mildly inconveniencing you, having an annoying voice, wasting food, etc etc… all of which Adam does.

Generally, you’re apathetic to what goes on around you, especially at the hotel. You’re fed, don’t have to pay rent, and can pretty much do whatever you want, so dealing with the annoying, traumatized, dramatic residents and staff is a fair trade off in your eyes. Adam should, in theory, be no different than the rest of them to you. So you cannot, for the life of you, figure out what about him makes him so much worse than the rest.

You just try not to think about him as much as possible. But when you ignore him, he just seems to get worse.

“Jesus, you don’t think it’s a bit early to start drinking?”

You mentally groan as you hear his voice, avoiding eye contact as you crack open the bottle.

“I mean, Isn’t this shithole supposed to be for rehabilitation?” You can practically hear the smirk in his voice as he opens the fridge.

“Why don’t you focus on your own rehab first, dick? Been weeks now and you’re still an asshole,” You snap, before taking a swig of your beer. He shrugs, grabbing the orange juice from the fridge and placing it on the counter. He walks past where you’re leaning on the counter to get a glass.

“I mean, damn, you didn’t even try today, huh?”He laughs.

“Why are you pickin’ a fight with me right now?” You raise your voice a little, exasperated and too hungover to deal with this.

“oh, uh, i dunno… i’m bored?” He shrugs again, looking over to you with a self satisfied smile. You groan in frustration, then sigh, forcing yourself to keep it together.

“…and you wonder why your wives left you,” you mumble with a roll your eyes, turning to quickly leave the kitchen. you don’t see his face, but judging from the sound of a crash and footsteps quickly following you into the hallway, you hit a nerve. oh, god, here we go…

“you fucking junkie bitch!” he yells after you as you stomp up the stairs.

“you’re proving my point right now!” you say over your shoulder.

“Like you have room to talk? Let’s bring up your love life, huh?!”

“oh my god shut up!” Angel yells through the door as you pass his room. “Every fuckin’ morning with you two!”

Adam ignores him, continuing to rant as he follows closely behind you, every degrading name he can think of spilling from his lips.

“…fucking whore cunt- whose not even fucking listening to me!” he says as you turn into your room. you turn, attempting to slam the door, but he sticks his foot in the gap and grabs the door, shoving it back open.

“what in the fuck is your problem today?!” you yell.

“it’s you, bitch!”

“oh my god- how do you care about anything this much? Seriously, it’s not that deep!”

you jump a little as he suddenly slaps the beer bottle out of your hands, the glass shattering loudly and the leftover beer soaking your socks. your jaw drops, outraged, and you can’t help the reflex to reach up and smack the side of his head.

“ow!” he yelps, and you raise your fists to hit him again, when-

“you- fucking bitch-!” he shouts. you cry out in surprise as he grabs your wrists and yanks you with surprising ease, shoving you roughly into the wall behind you.

theres a struggle, both grunting with the strain of pushing against each other as Adam wrestles to keep the upper hand. You go to knee him, but he moves quicker, slotting one of his legs between your own and pressing his body against yours to pin you completely against the wall.

then, something changes. he pauses, the close proximity seems to have finally registered in his brain. his eyes widen and you pause too, both panting, faces inches apart. his grip loosens, and a flicker of confusion crosses his features.

“wait, what’s-“

“shut up,” you snap suddenly. before you even realize what you’re doing, your hands are on his chest, and you’re shoving him towards your bed.

“take off your shirt,” you command as the back of his knees hit the mattress and he’s falling backwards. he quickly does as you say, looking up at you with wide eyes as you straddle him and rip your own shirt off as well. he mumbles a nice when he sees you’re not wearing a bra. you reach to tug off the sweatpants you had on, and as soon as you can kick them away Adam’s hands are on your waist and flipping you over. He hurriedly rips off the rest of his clothes before he’s back on you, leaning down to eagerly press kisses down your neck. you have to tilt your head to make room for the horns now permanently attached to his head, and you think of the irony of this situation.

the sound of fabric ripping followed immediately by two of his fingers finding your clit makes you gasp. you bite back a whimper as he begins to rub rough and sloppy circles on your clit. the pleasure doesn’t last long before he’s pulling his hand back, only to shove a finger inside your cunt quickly, and you gasp again. being so unprepared, the stretch burns a bit. fuck, has he always had such big hands? he’s gentle at first, as he works the single finger in and out of you, and once the pain subsides, he quickly adds a second one.

“Oh, fuck,” you can’t help the curse that slips past your lips, and before long you’re rocking your hips against his hand. his movements are rushed and sloppy, impatient as he stretches you out. he chuckles dryly, and you shoot him a glare.

once again, before long, he’s pulling away, and grabbing you by the shoulders to make you sit up with him. you whine involuntarily at the loss of contact, and the cocky bastard laughs again.

“So impatient, babe,” He grins.

“Shut up,” You say again, pushing him so that he’s sitting up against the bed frame. You crawl over to him, and straddle his lap. His hands find your ass, groping it roughly while you grab the base of his cock and align the tip with your entrance.

You both gasp in unison when you swiftly lower yourself to take his full length. A strangled moan escapes from your lips and you let your head fall forward to rest on his shoulder. Eyes squeezed shut, you wait so you can adjust to his size. Seriously, how had you never noticed how big he was before now? Prematurely, Adam angles his hips and suddenly thrusts up into you, making you cry out in pain and pleasure.

“Oh you like that, bitch? Huh?” He says teasingly, running his hands up and down your back before moving his hips again.

“You have seriously got to learn to be quiet,” You retort through gritted teeth, reaching up to pull his hair from the roots. He lets out a groan, followed by a more pathetic whine as you begin to move on his length.

It must be all the pent up emotion, because you’re very quickly unable to speak beyond a few curses and wanton moans. Adam however, can’t seem to stop talking. Mumbling about how good you feel- for a whore, how he didn’t think you’d be so tight, how you’re so fucking sexy he wishes he’d done this sooner.

“Ugh, Adam- shut up!” You groan as you move desperately. He whines as you pull his hair again for emphasis, biting his lip as you feel his hips snap up into yours.

“Oh, god-“ You’re squealing, back arching as you can feel your whole body tense. You’re on top, but as you grow more limp, he’s holding you upright as he roughly fucks into you. “I’m close!” You warn, and it comes out a strangled sob.

You’re so, so close. Euphoria clouds your brain, and collapse onto him as he continues to hold you up to thrust into you.

You fall backwards, and Adam follows, caging you underneath him as he chases his own release now.

“oh- fuck- don’t stop!” You’re practically screaming as your orgasm crashes over you, and you wrap your arms around and claw at Adam desperately, fingernails leaving marks on his fleshy back. You only faintly register the breathless laugh he lets out at your state as he now pounds into you.

He slams into you with an intensity that forces the air out of your lungs, and even Adam can’t form thoughts or speak anymore.

“Oh, fu-uuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god,” He can’t believe the noises that are coming from him, but he also can’t find it in himself to care when you feel this good. You’re so sensitive, and still tight from your previous climax, and he can feel your pulse in the walls of your cunt as you clench around him.

Pleasure quickly turns to overstimulation, and you moan his name again, reaching up to pull at his hair, horns, wings, anything, as tears begin to prick at your eyes. Hearing you moan his name, seeing the look on your face, knowing he’s the one doing this to you is what he needed to send him over the edge.

“o-oh my god-“ he groans, hips stuttering as he presses his body as close to yours as possible, spilling his cum deeply inside of you with an actual moan.

He stays still for a moment, both of your breathing labored, sweat making your hair stick to your foreheads and necks, but you stay holding eachother. While both your brains are still fuzzy, thoughts muddled from the aftershocks, he takes a hand up and wipes your hair away from your face, and the tears from your eyes.

Eventually, he sits up and pulls out of you, rolling over to lay next to you on the bed. Neither of you say anything, too fucked out to think of the repercussions from your actions.

[fangsandfracturedhearts]

Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Chapter 9: Beneath the Veil

Summary: After embracing eternity as a vampire spawn under Astarion's wing, the Crimson Palace becomes a haunting symbol of the man he once was. As his personality unravels into a dark abyss, you flee. A year of hardship unveils the harsh reality of existence as a vampire spawn.

Just as all hope seems lost, a twist of fate reunites you with Astarion, revealing a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows. As you navigate the complexities of your relationship, you must confront the unsettling truth behind the Rite of Profane Ascension and the devilish secrets it holds.

In a race against time, you embark on a daring quest to save Astarion from his descent into darkness. With each choice you make, the stakes grow higher, testing the limits of your courage and determination.

Will Astarion find redemption, or is he destined to succumb to his own inner turmoil?

Word Count: 6.5k

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn

Warnings: [Will try to continue to add more, but in general expect explicit content for mature audiences]

Possible spoilers. Eventual Explicit Content. Slow Burn. Thoughts of Suicide. Violence. Blood. Injury. Mature Content. Self-Harm. Mentions of in-game content. Completely fabricated camp events.

If you notice a very critical tag missing, please don't hesitate to let me know

Rating: Explicit 18+ - [Meant For Mature Audience]

He soars above the roofs, moving swiftly with every forceful downbeat of his veiny, membranous wings. The moon shines bright and full tonight, the sky encrusted with stars glinting like polished gems against the pitch black.

Elowyn and the revolting Drow kept him far too late tonight, requesting additional samples of his blood, trying to justify their incompetent failures. If those two whelps make him miss his chance at seeing her tonight, he will punish them. Severely. The thought fills him with sadistic glee, and the lips of his snout pull back to reveal rows of sharp, needle-pointed teeth, as close as a smile as he can manage in this form.

A hoarse voice pierces through his morbid contemplation like hot steel, “Where is he, spawn?”

For a fleeting moment, he looks around, thinking someone is talking to him. He will torture whoever dares call him a spawn. He will make their death drag on for days, weeks, months, perhaps. He is a pathetic spawn no longer. He is the Vampire Ascendent, and he will not be belittled.

“Did I stutter? I said I don’t fucking know!” Her voice, usually sweet like wind-chimes in a gentle summer breeze, is bristling and teeming with bitterness that nips his ears.

He angles his wings, drawing them close to his body and dives, rapid and sure. He swerves between obstacles, beady black eyes darting around. That overly sweet scent of powdered iron vine stirs unwelcome memories as it hits his nostrils and makes his eyes water.

Shit.

He pumps his wings hard, heading straight toward that sickly sweet scent. He can feel himself start sinking into the mire that has muddled his mind and held him hostage, but he cannot allow it to swallow him in its gaping maw this night. She needs him.

Astarion, he must remind himself of his name. He is not just the Vampire Ascendent; he is Astarion.

“Kill her. She either can’t or won’t give him up. She’s useless to us.”

No. No. No.

His newly beating heart arrests in his chest, immobilized all over again, as he sees the hunter and watches them draw the stake from their hip. She... Gods, she doesn’t do anything. She closes her beautiful eyes and accepts her fate without a fight.

What in the bloody Hells is she thinking?

Fight! He wants to scream but cannot as he shifts forms in a fraction of a second, hauling one of the Gur holding her steadfast into the treeline while drawing his dagger, twirling it into his grip with a flick of his wrist and plunging it into their chest. Pivoting with bared teeth, he does not even bother waiting to revel in their dying shudder.

He is liquid lightning made flesh, and he takes the next hunter in a flash, slashing his dagger across their jugular with a satisfying spray of blood that splashes against his ivory skin and glazes his silver hair with a rust-coloured tint. He discards them just as quickly.

He does not waste a second and spins on his heel, lunging forward, every muscle and tendon in his body buzzing with the energy of 7000 souls. He rips the last Gur away from her, slinging them into the air with no more effort than it would take him to lift a speck of dust.

He regards the flailing human through narrow eyes with brows pulled down in a scowl that darkens his face. He’s going to snap their neck like a matchstick for thinking they can kill his beloved dark consort.

No, he corrects himself - his spawn, his toy, his possession.

“Please, don’t,” she pleads.

Her voice snaps him out of his grisly ruminations, and his eyes meet hers. Those round moon eyes that used to burn vividly with the glow of her blazing spirit now appear almost matte, and his heart clinches in his chest. Where is the fire he’s used to seeing in those eyes?

The scent of blood lingers heavily in the air, his heart pounds with the exhilaration of battle, and the gurgling sputters of approaching death stroke his ears, enchanting him.

Does she truly expect him to spare this feeble sack of shit? He does not spare lives simply because she requests it.

Yet, he is considering it. Why?

He cocks his head, straining against the insurgence of the other presence that threatens to gain control of his body. Ripping himself from the savage chomping jaws of this monster within is painful.

Agony, worse than any torture Cazador ever inflicted upon him, flares through every sinew of his body as he thrusts the hunter against the wall.

His breaths come in ragged, quick succession, but he is back, he is present, he is Astarion.

She stares at him with shock and winces. Her brows furrow with confusion as her eyes cast down and his follow their path.

He had not been fast enough.

Her body trembles as panic channels through her. She grips the stake and rips it out. The sound makes him nauseous and sends bile rising into his throat.

“... Astarion?”

His ears twitch at his name. Her eyes flutter closed as her consciousness begins to slip. Reflexively, he dives forward, arms outstretched, and for the first time in what feels like lifetimes, her name tastes like honey on his tongue as he cries it.

He catches her before her limp body can hit the ground. Gods, she’s far too light and bony with gaunt, hollow cheeks and dark circles under her eyes. His mouth drops open, horrified. Squeezing his eyes closed, he grimaces and shakes his head slightly. He does not have time to dwell on this right now. He must get her help.

The Cleric.

He does not want to, but he can do nothing for her. He moves quickly toward that little house he has watched her return to time and time again.

He considers breaking the door down, but if he does that, the Cleric is likely to attack first and ask questions later. He slams the heel of his boot on the door with a loud thud.

“Astarion?” Shadowheart blinks the sleep from her eyes rapidly, bristles and lunges for her mace, “You should not have-”

“Shut up,” he spits harshly, pushing past her, “Put your distaste for me aside. She needs your help. If you wish to try and kill me after, I will gladly do away with you.”

The golden glow of Shadowheart’s magic recedes from her fingertips as she looks at her in his arms, mouth agape. Her eyes harden as they meet his, “Did you do this!?”

“Me?” He’s astonished at the accusation. Why would he do this? He would never, nay could never. How dare she accuse him of such barbarity!

“Yes, darling,” he drawls sarcastically through clenched teeth, “I thought it was a lovely little icebreaker. I stake my dearest spawn and then show up on your doorstep requesting your help.” He scoffs indignantly, clicking his tongue at her, “Do not be so stupid. I care not what you think of me, but this is not my doing. If I had wanted her dead, she would be dead, and I would not be here.”

“She is dead,” Shadowheart snarls, gripping the hilt of her mace so hard her knuckles strain white, “You already fucking killed her.”

“I-” He did, didn’t he? She is dead, and it was him that drained her of life. No. He pushes the thought away. He had given her the choice. She chose this, and he could not be blamed for her choices.

“Semantics,” he recovers quickly with a shrug, “I could argue them with you all bloody night. Will you assist, or would you prefer to continue glaring at me? I do love the attention, after all.”

Shadowheart scoffs, nose rising with a grimace, “Put her down and step away from her.”

“Absolutely not,” he snaps. He will not lose her again. He cannot. “You have a choice, my dear. Help her as she is, in my arms, or do not. Stop wasting my fucking time.”

“Gods, you’re still as insufferable as you ever were!” Shadowheart stomps her foot, balling her fist up at her sides and levelling the mace at him before discarding it.

“Thank you,” he grins victoriously.

Magic encompasses Shadowheart’s hand. She steps close but warily as if he might pounce on her, and he rolls his eyes with a dramatic huff. Shadowheart recites an incantation, lays a splayed hand on her, and the spell flows over her body. The bleeding slows but does not stop. Shadowheart tries again, stronger this time, the magic suffusing the dim living area with a light blue luminescence.

“Take her to her room and show yourself out, Astarion,” Shadowheart instructs and points toward a darkened staircase, “It’s at the top of the stairs, second door in the hall.”

He chuckles at the silly notion he would leave her in this condition. He’s finally got his hands on her again, and there is no way he is letting her go, “No. She’s coming to the palace with me tonight.”

Shadowheart shakes, trembling with rage, “No. I will not allow you to take her.”

“Try and stop me,” he sneers, his brows knitting together, “She needs more healing, of course. You are most welcome to join us at the Crimson Palace if you wish.”

She will heal, although he’s not sure how fast in the emaciated state she is in. He will take her home where he can watch over her.  He will take her back where she belongs, with him, forever.

He shoves Shadowheart with his shoulder and heads for the door. He hears the crackle of her magic as it leaves her fingers and braces himself to absorb the attack. It hits his back, warming and prickling his skin.

He feels it again, the tug in his mind, demons creeping closer, trying to pull him into oblivion. He takes a deep breath, and his hands squeeze her more firmly, grounding himself.

Turning, he chuckles at Shadowheart as she stares at him, eyes wide in confusion but keen with determination, “That tickled, darling.” He taunts, “I will overlook this little altercation. After all, what’s a little quarrel between old friends? Now, I really must be getting home. You know where to find us should you come to your senses."

He wonders if Shadowheart will try again. She was a determined little spitfire, after all. He quickly slips out the door into the night and laughs when he hears Shadowheart’s livid scream.

“Fuck!”

It’s not long before Shadowheart jogs to his side, “What the Hells happened, Astarion?”

He’s surprised she did not come fully clad in her armour with every weapon she has. Surprised and rather disappointed. He thought she was more intelligent than to walk into the devil’s den defenceless.

“I’m so glad you decided to join us,” he says mirthlessly and shrugs, “She was attacked.”

“Yes, Astarion, I can see that.” Shadowheart scoffs at him, frowning and crossing her arms with a snort, but her expression softens when she looks at her, “Can she die from this? For good, I mean.”

He shakes his head, clenching his jaw, “I will not allow it.”

He walks quickly with long, ground-devouring strides. Shadowheart has to trot alongside him to keep pace.

She stirs in his arms now and then, trembles rippling through her muscles, fingers twitching, and he pulls her into him as close as he can get her. He wants to tell her it’s okay, to whisper that he’s got her and she is safe, but he bites his tongue.

The walk to the Crimson Palace is silent from there on out, and he’s thankful for it.

He lays her down on his bed as Shadowheart yanks scrolls and potions from her bag. He runs his fingers over her cheek when Shadowheart isn’t looking to let her know she’s not alone. He’s here. It’s been so long since he felt her skin. His heart feels like it palpates, skipping beats and is uncomfortably heavy in his chest. He cannot remember feeling anything similar in all his 200 years.

Shadowheart expends every scroll and every ounce of energy she has. Sweat rolls down her temples, and her magic dims and fizzles out on her fingers.

She pants, bracing herself against his bed, “I can do no more until I rest.” Shadowheart nudges him with an elbow to the ribs, “Get out. I need to clean and wrap her wounds.”

He narrows his eyes and quickly snatches the roll of bandages from Shadowheart’s hands, “Allow me.”

Shadowheart stares at him, teeming with hatred, “You will not. I need to undress her. Get out.”

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” he snickers, “Many times, might I add.”

Shadowheart snarls and digs her finger rigidly into his chest, “You would violate her like that for your sick pleasure?”

Violate her? He would never do such a thing. How sick does Shadowheart think he is?

“Pleasure? There is absolutely nothing pleasurable about this!” He howls, affronted at the accusation that he would somehow get satisfaction from such an act. He runs his fingers through his blood-stained hair, “If she wakes while you are at it, she will drain you dry. She will have no control and will not be able to stop herself.”

Truth but not the reason he is being so insistent. He could not care less if she drained the Cleric drier than the desert at noon. He would watch it happen with glee. The truth he is reluctant to admit even to himself is that he wants to be close to her.

Shadowheart’s eyes narrow at him, and she crosses her arms with a huff, “Fine, but I am not leaving you alone with her.”

“Fine by me,” he smiles amicably, with a shallow bow, “May I?”

Shadowheart watches him with the same intensity and mistrust she used to watch the Gith with, and he rolls his eyes at her.

His fingers nimbly undo the clasps and laces that hold her robe closed and peels it from her body, sticky with drying blood. He’s careful, keeping his movements slow and measured.

Good Gods, there is so much blood. It coats his hands, up his forearms, muddying his skin and getting under his fingernails.

“Fetch that, will you?” he points to the glass basin filled with clean water, “Cloths are below. Bring them all."

Shadowheart grumbles under her breath but obediently does as he asks. He cleans her with gentle strokes, discarding the rags as they become blood-soaked and spoiled.

Hells, she is thin beyond his wildest imagination. Her collar bones, hip bones, and ribs jut out from her sunken stomach. He could count every vertebra in her spine. She looks frail and sickly. It takes considerable effort for him to keep his facial expression impassive as if he doesn’t care, but her condition makes his bones ache. It reminds him of the time he spent the year sealed away, starving and alone in that old, dusty tome. Is he no better than Cazador? He buries the thought.

“I should have brought her a change of clothes,” Shadowheart cringes while discarding the robe, fabric soaked and heavy with blood.

“I have her clothing. I will fetch her something when we finish,” he concludes almost absentmindedly, his mind focused on wrapping her with the roll of bandages.

“You have her clothes?” Shadowheart gawks at him, eyes rounded with surprise, “Still?”

“Yes.”

He does not explain further. He still can’t recall why her bedroom was separate from his. Worse yet, it was down in the spawn quarters. Did he put her down there? Why?

“We can do no more for her tonight,” he murmurs as the backs of his fingers graze down her arm. He doesn’t even bother to look at Shadowheart. He points toward the door, “Guest bedrooms are in the west wing. Take your pick.”

Shadowheart crosses her arms and sniffs, “I will not be leaving her half-naked with the likes of you.”

He tires of this and these accusations that he will act indecently. Maybe he is a monster, but he is not as twisted as they all seem to believe he is. He does not have the energy or the restraint to participate in petulant arguments. If Shadowheart pushes him too far, which is an utter certainty, he will be Astarion no longer.

Astarion, he reminds himself again. I am Astarion.

He catches Shadowheart’s eyes and compels her, “You will go to the first guest bedroom you find, and you will sleep until dawn."

Shadowheart’s pupils dilate wide, and red tendrils trail around her as his compulsion roots into her mind.

“I will sleep until dawn,” Shadowheart repeats, absent and emotionless, getting up and leaving him alone.

He sighs with relief and drags a chair to the side of the bed. Dawn is an hour or two away, at best, but it is enough. He leans back, resting his elbow on the armrest and his forehead in his hand. This was his fault. He dragged her into this mess with the Gur. He knew they had been trying to track him, but he did not know they knew about her.

He will find where they are hiding and slaughter the lot of them for this. Why stop there? He will hunt every tribe of Gur to the ends of Faerûn and eradicate them from existence entirely. They will all pay in blood for what has occurred tonight.

She coughs and mutters indiscernibly. A voice inside his head wails that he should destroy her because she makes him feel, and that makes him weak. She makes him weak. He thrusts the thought down, frowning in disgust at himself for ever having it in the first place.

Gods below, what has he become? He’s spent months watching her from a distance. At first, he told himself he kept being dragged back to that terrible little hovel because he felt a foul sort of gratification in watching her suffer as she withered away to skin and bones or cried on the ground.

It made him feel good, powerful, but above all, needed. For a time, he savoured her misery as if he were sipping it like a fine wine.

He can’t remember exactly when it stopped being enjoyable.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles with a shaky breath, kissing her palm and interlocking his fingers with hers, “I’m so sorry. I will not fail you again.” 

“It’s the wizard.”

He can hear emotion siphon from his voice, a sheet of ice crystallizing it. Her beautiful eyes are wide and round with fear, her mouth dropping open slightly. The tips of her fangs peek out of her full lips, disorienting him for a moment. Those fangs do not look like they belong in her mouth. Yet, he had put them there, didn’t he? She pulls the bedsheet up, grasping the silken linen in her fist and bringing it to her chest, shielding her body from him. He loathes the way she is looking at him. She is frightened of him. There was a time not too long ago when she trusted him beyond measure. He longs to see her look at him like that again.

But right now, the wizard is here to take her from him. He cannot lose her again. Gale cannot have her. She is his.

He takes a deep breath, trying to center himself. He can feel that unholy abomination within him start rampaging against its shackles. It pulls at the borders of his mind and whispers corruption in his thoughts, begging to be released.

“No. No, it can’t be. Gale doesn’t know where I am,” she stutters, panic taking flight and soaring into her voice, “You’re mistaken.”

If only he were.

He cocks his head, eyeing her warily and waves dismissively, “Shall we answer the door and find out?”

He tries to sit up. She relinquishes her linen shield and scrambles into his lap, squeezing him tightly between her thighs and straddling his waist. She plants her splayed hands on his chest and thrusts him down, grinding him into the bed with all the strength of her vampiric form.

She looks to the door, brows upturned, portraying her unease, and then looks back at him, “Ignore it.”

He lets her push him back and narrows his eyes in a challenging glower. Even with all her strength and weight behind her, he sits upright effortlessly in a slow advance. She forgets herself sometimes, forgets what he is, the power he possesses. He can feel her body trembling, her fingers digging into his chest, and he revels in the fear illustrated in the intricate details of her features.

He blinks hard and rids himself of that thought. It’s his ire forcing impulsive whispers through his head. If he wanted that, he could simply let himself slip away, and he would not even have to remember the savagery he dealt.

“Now, why ever would I ignore my old friend Gale?” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s another well-practiced veneer, just another mask, one of his many.

“Please, Astarion,” she takes his hand and begs, “Ignore it.”

“No,” he retorts, easing her off him gradually and sliding off the bed. He grabs his trousers and throws them on.

She clambers ungracefully, grabbing her clothes, “Astarion, listen to me. Please. At least stay in here while I talk to him.”

He whirls on her with a snarl before he even knows what he is doing, “I am the Vampire Ascendant!” He shouts at her cruelly, “I take orders from no one!”

His eyes start their restless shifting. He marshals his resolve and the muscles in his arms strain. His fingers twitch as unseen talons claw rifts into his consciousness, and he reels to keep himself tethered to reality.

He must not give in.

Her arresting eyes bore into him. She speaks to him softly, using that silver tongue in her most zephyr intonation, “Stay you, please.”

She watches, observing his every movement. Shooting pains cleave through him. It feels like he’s being torn apart from the inside out, and Gods, it hurts. If she were not looking at him like that, he might let himself be dragged away.

Astarion, he prompts himself; I am Astarion.

He jerks his eyes away from her while buttoning his chemise, “I’m trying,” he growls low, “Do not challenge me right now.”

A warning. He can feel himself sinking. All grace and fluidity have been depleted, and he moves stiff and rigidly. She picks up her shirt and stares at the tattered rag he tore from her body. He can still taste her pleasure sweet on his tongue, feel her dissolving around him, while his name rang like a prayer through these halls.

He told her he was going to make love to her, didn’t he? Why did he say that? He does not make love. A lapse in judgment in a moment of passion, surely. He does not dig deeper. He dares not follow the trail because he’s afraid of what he will disentomb.

He shifts his form and reappears by the door. Her footsteps descend the staircase so quickly he’s surprised she hasn’t sent herself tumbling. Perhaps he has managed to teach her something, after all.

He knows what awaits when he opens this door. Gale will try to take her from him again as he did before with his trivial illusions, sincere confessions and genuine love, but she belongs to him.

Astarion, Astarion, Astarion, he chants to himself as he takes a deep breath and opens the door.

Gale’s voice clamours through the halls as he pushes in, “Where is she, Astarion? What have you done to her!”

“That’s Lord Astarion to you, Gale.” His voice is tight, soaked in cordial falsity, “How lovely to see you. Welcome to our home.”

Gale scoffs at him, brows furrowed, “Lord Astarion? You cannot be serious?”

“Oh, I am dead serious.” He seethes through clenched teeth, brows pulled down in a menacing scowl, “In my home, you will show me the proper respect I am due.”

“Respect?” Gale shouts at him in a rage, arms gesturing wildly, “You lost any hope of respect as soon as you forced undeath on her.”

Forced undeath on her? Forced?! He did no such thing! He requested, and she accepted. Her undying loyalty for an eternity with him.

A simple transaction.

... Right?

The edges of his vision are starting to ripple and blacken, a sure sign he is losing.

She runs around the corner, almost tripping over her feet, and her words blunder out of her mouth briskly, “Gale, stop! You don’t understand what you’re doing. You’re putting us all in danger.”

“Yes, Gale,” he chimes cooly, “I am very dangerous.”

His memory flashes with images of himself standing, blood dripping from his hair, off his fingertips and chin. Mangled bodies are strewn haphazardly around him, open mouths lamenting silent screams as their milky eyes cast judgment on him. He does not recall dealing these deaths, only waking up in the aftermath of his primal sadism.

Gale ignores him and reaches toward her. He doesn’t even realize he’s moving until he’s twisted Gale’s arm behind his back. He fumes, “Do not touch her. She is mine.”

He considers breaking the wizard’s arm with a gleeful, ghoulish smile, tugging his lips up. He applies a little more force, and Gale cries out. The pained bawl is music to his ears, and he almost floats away on the bewitching hymn.

“Astarion, stop it.” Her cold hands clutch his heated cheeks, “Look at me. I’ve got you, but I need you to hold on.”

He focuses on those fascinating multicoloured doe-eyes through the storm clouding his vision. Gritting his teeth, he forces himself to release Gale with a grunt. His limbs feel numb - like they are not his and should not be attached to his body. He shudders and leans back against the wall, with such pressure that cracks begin extending across the wood panelling. Agony explodes behind his eyes. He’s sweating, perspiration rolling down his forehead and temples and the delicate black fabric of his chemise clings to his damp body.

She drags Gale out of the manor into the sunbathed street, trying to put as much distance between him and Gale as possible. She squeezes her eyes closed and grits her teeth as the radiant light spreads over her snowy skin.

I’ve got you. You’re safe with me. He wants to tell her, but he is no liar. She is safe with him, Astarion, but he cannot be sure of his actions if he is overtaken and subdued.

“What in the Hells is going on here?” Gale yells at her, “What are you thinking going back to him? He killed you and then left you to rot in the sewers! Do you remember how Shadowheart and I found you? You were out of your mind with hunger!”

Rot in the sewers? What the fuck was Gale talking about? He never left her in the sewers. Did he? His memories are fragmented and unreliable. He remembers defeating the Netherbrain, the searing pain in his head, standing on the docks, and little else. The first vivid thing he can recall is watching her walk out the palace door, tears gliding down her face, her eyes shimmering wet in the moonlight, and her voice trembling as she said goodbye.

He does not know what is happening to him, but he knows there is more to the Rite than the devil let on, and whatever ails him is slowly eating away at whatever is left of him.

“Yes,” she mewls, a hand coming to her forehead in an exasperated gesture, “I remember. It doesn’t matter now. You shouldn’t be here, Gale. Go home. I will come when night falls, and we can discuss this then.”

“Why are you putting yourself in harm’s way again, for him of all people.” Gale scolds her and makes those voices in his thoughts croon louder, promising the wizard’s death, telling him he won’t have to blame himself, “Is this some sort of compulsion? Has Astarion forced you to do this? You’ve always had a big heart, but you have never been stupid.”

Did he call her stupid? He will rip out Gale's fucking tongue for speaking to her in such a manner.

“Astarion hasn’t compelled me,” she retaliates in a cutting inflection, but he hears the unmistakable notes of uncertainty, “I am here of my own volition.”

“No, I do not believe that.” Gale decrees, sure and confident, “I think Astarion knows how to manipulate you, and he continues to do so, as he always has done.”

“Perhaps he is,” she sighs, “But perhaps he isn’t. It matters not. The choice is mine to make, and the consequences are mine to bear, whatever they may be.”

Gale’s voice loses its keen edge and drops low, “You fled from Astarion, from this life. Why return to it? Help me understand, my friend.”

Her fists clench at her sides, and she growls, frustrated with the inquisition. “Isn’t it obvious? I love him,” she shouts, squaring off with Gale, “I love him, and I will not, cannot, give up on him!”

He stares at her back, mouth dropping open and eyes rounded. He did not expect this. She is doing this because he promised her freedom, is she not? Another transaction.

“That man,” Gale spits, “No, that monster cannot love you. Not anymore. You’re coming home with me.”

Bitterness rises hot in his throat and coats the back of his tongue. He’s spent lifetimes having someone dictate what he can and cannot do, and he will stand for it no longer.

He does love-

He cuts the thought off abruptly as if it were a stray stitch unravelling from a grand tapestry. His blood solidifies, icy in his veins.

If he admits this, it becomes real, and she alone has the power to destroy him, wreck him beyond all hope of repair.

Yet, despite his best efforts, whatever he retains of his soul weakly whispers on, ruing against his restraint.

I love you too.

He groans and leans forward, hands on his knees, trying to keep himself upright. His brain feels like it’s twisting in his skull. Oblivion is edging closer, vines made of shadow reaching out to him and twisting around his limbs.

“No, Gale. Stop,” she screams, her feet dragging across the paved stone street, “You are going to get us both killed!”

“I am not afraid of Astarion,” Gale says, resolute.

He’s heard enough, “You should be, Gale.” he hisses as he emerges from the doorway, “Leave. Now. She has made her choice.”

The sun is bright in his eyes, much too bright and hot on his already feverish skin. He forces himself to stand straight, though he wants to double over.

Gale scowls at him, brows pulled down, “You did this, didn’t you? You compelled her, exerted your will over her and forced her into this servitude!”

Gale would want to believe that, wouldn’t he? Blame him for being the puppet master, because then Gale would not have to face the truth.

Despite it being the objectively stupid thing to do, she loves him.

“Gale, go home,” she screams, anger thrusting into her voice, “I will explain everything, but you must go before it’s too late. You have no idea what you’re doing.”

His body does not feel like it’s under his control, and movement feels wrong. Gripping her arm, his fingers dig into her flesh, and he hauls her backward toward the manor with so much force that he wrenches her off her feet and into the air. An anguished cry chokes from her throat. It breaks him from the daze. He did not mean to hurt her.

“I didn’t mean to-”

He doesn’t get to finish before he’s pushed back and off balance by a sudden, strong gust of wind, far too powerful to be anything natural.

He rights himself quickly, whirls, and watches in horror as a radiant beam of pure sunlight careens toward her. It washes over her before he can move, and a shrill, soul-shattering scream wrests from her throat.

The demon bursts from its prison with pain so torturous it fractures his psyche, liquefying his brain matter.

He’s dragged down, down, down, where everything is quiet and dark.  

Sunbeam spills over you in an upsurge. Your skin sears, your eyes sizzle in their sockets, and white-hot pain swarms your vision. Falling to your hands and knees, a cry so shrill tearing from your throat, it feels like it rips your vocal cords to tatters.

“Are you pleased, wizard?” Astarion drawls, “Look what you’ve done to my most precious treasure.”

Astarion’s voice is distant and emotionless, and you don’t have to look at him to know he’s lost the fight with himself. If you do not do something quickly, Gale’s blood will soak these streets, and it will be on your hands. Astarion told you those who provoke him rarely survive. Gale will be no exception.

Gritting your teeth, you push through the pain, making your nerves sing and blink to clear your vision. Astarion stalks toward Gale, laughing as if deranged while he nimbly dodges every one of Gale’s attacks, a predator playing with their prey like a cat with a mouse.

From the ground, you cast Hold Person, halting Astarion. He wars against his restraints. You will not be able to hold him long.

“Gale,” you sputter as you feel your concentration breaking, splintering at the seams like an overstuffed doll, “I cannot hold him long. Run to the waypoint and get home.”

Gale shakes his head, “I won’t leave-”

You trample over him, “If you don’t, we are both dead. Go! Now!”

Seconds that feel like hours pass before Gale turns and disappears down the street. You hold Astarion for as long as possible, vying to give Gale enough time to get to the waypoint. You can only hope Astarion does not decide you’re too broken and no longer fun to toy with.

Astarion rallies against your impediment and Hold Person breaks and shatters as your concentration is pushed beyond its limits.

Trembling, you try to push yourself to your feet, but you can’t get your limbs and muscles to obey orders. You don’t hear Astarion’s footsteps as they approach, but his proximity is betrayed by his beating heart.

Astarion’s hand curls into your hair, pulling you to your feet with an unforgiving yank, “You should not have intervened in my fun.”

“Astarion-”

His hand slams into the bottom of your chin, making your teeth clash with so much force you’re sure they will buckle and disintegrate in your mouth.

“Don’t “Astarion” me. It will not work this time,” he growls with a taunting edge, “Astarion is gone. I am the Vampire Ascendant! I am a God, and I will not be caged! Do you hear me? You are nothing, and you cannot save him.”

He talks about himself as if they’re two different people.

Astarion looks around, and a menacing smile slinks across his lips, “Perhaps I should simply let you burn and put an end to this once and for all.”

Panic forces your hand. Whoever this person is, he is not Astarion, and he may very well let you burn. You press your palm against his chest and let liquid fire, hot as the fires in Phlegethos, explode against him. The instant you feel his clutch release, you throw yourself back into the safety of the manor.

Crawling further inside, you push yourself up with the aid of a wall as your knees quake under your weight. You look up just in time to see Astarion’s hand as it slams into your throat, and he lifts you off your feet. His grip is stringent and unforgiving, and bruises instantly varnish your pallid skin, narrating abuse with dark hues of blue, purple and red. You kick against the air hopelessly, feet trying to find purchase.

You pull at his wrist and hand, digging your nails into him, blemishing his ashen skin with bloodied, jagged lacerations. You try to speak, but he increases the pressure on your throat, and nothing can make it out of your compressed esophagus.

You keep your eyes away from Astarion’s; you cannot look into those ruby-red eyes and see him look at you like you are nothing. Not after he has been looking at you like you’re everything.

Astarion’s head rears back, and his fangs plunge like icepicks into your neck. He shakes his head side to side like an animal trying to tear your throat out. You try to cry out, and your fingernails claw at his arms and face. He draws blood in erratic, unrestrained gulps and swallows it greedily. It spills from his mouth, running down your neck in a tributary, soaking into your shirt.

You oppose his hold on you, but it’s no use. Astarion is too strong, and you’re far too depleted. Astarion is going to drain you dry once again, and you stop fighting it. He cannot kill you like this, but what he does with your unconscious body afterwards is another story entirely. You dare not think about it.

Your limbs are the first to start feeling the effects of blood loss with tingles spreading to your fingertips. Even though it’s not possible, you still feel the sensation of paling further and growing colder as you begin to feel faint. Your body goes limp in his clutch as it numbs to the point where not even your fingers have the energy to twitch. Your eyelashes flutter as your eyes spurn your effort to keep them open. A quiet, pathetic whimper escapes your parted lips.

Suddenly, Astarion rips his fangs from your neck, rough and painful. The agony snaps you back into your body. You fall to the ground in a shuddering heap. Blood continues to flow freely from your neck and spreads sanguine streams in the cracks between the wooden plank flooring, overflowing and pooling around your face and shoulders.

You watch Astarion stagger backward. Violent spasms wrack his body, and he falls to his hands and knees. He convulses, body writhing and twisting, and his fingernails make deep, long gouges into the floor, bloodying his fingertips.

You’ve seen him fight himself before, but it’s never looked like this. Good Gods, this is pure, undiluted suffering, and tears well up in your eyes.

I did this to him. This is my fault.

You try to speak, but the pain in your throat is unbearable. Your fingers splash in bloody puddles as you flex them. It takes every ounce of energy you have left, but you reach out and place your hand over Astarion’s as it claws the ground. His surprised eyes dart to you at the contact.

You keep your eyes focused on the beautiful red of his, in case it’s the last time you see them, as your world fades to black.  

Big thank you for everyone who takes the time to read/reblog/comment, and all the other magnificent things. As always, I hope you enjoy this, darlings!

AO3 [Crossposted]

Master List of Chapters: Fangs and Fractured Hearts

If you're interested I write another fic with Spawn Astarion x Tav called - Shadows of the Past

Small Notes:

So we did backtrack quite a bit in this chapter, but I thought it was important to learn why Astarion was even around for the Gur attack, and also to get a good look into what's going on in his head.

Trying something new with Astarion's POV. Let me know if it works or not, and I might keep switching perspectives.

Also, the new patches additional kisses - be still my beating heart.

[sunflowhamato]

ROTTMNT Curiosities Part.5

The ideas of making and ending the series through IDW comic would be easy to do

If the series is picked up, the tone of Rise would remain the same

Some chapters discarded were the following, (I took the information from

where it will be more complete, in case you want to read it)

Wedding Smashers: Ghostbear marries his fiancé Ghostpepper, a Chupacabra yokai. Raph and Mikey crash their wedding dressed as their aliases Shadybug and Dr. Rude.

Dog Dale Afternoon: April finds out that Baba Yaga cursed Dale to be a werewolf, but he doesn't know what's happening to him, Donnie shows up to “help him,” and be his doctor.

Shred Dead Redemption: Screenwriter Sheldon Vella shared the first board of his showing the brothers chasing the cupcake van called Fire and Icing in Turtle Tank. Unfortunately, a piece of cardboard (Donnie's cloaking device) blocking the front windshield causes the Tank to crash gracelessly into a Lou Jitsu poster.

Warren Stone 2: Warren Stone is cut in half again, but this time the lower half of him becomes a different Warren sporting a beard and shaved head. Warren Stone II ends up becoming a competent and dangerous enemy for the turtles. Realizing that Warren is upset, Warren II has taken his title of "The Turtles' Greatest Enemy", April helps Warren regain his charm.

Gourd Almighty: A comedic episode about Donnie trying to grow the world's largest pumpkin for a contest.

T-Hex: It was going to be about Mikey wanting a robotic toy with a "boopable snoot." After getting the toy he turns out to be not as innocent as he seems.

Lost Goat: Draxum leaves after having a fight with the family (Turtles and Splinter). As he does so, he is abducted by the foot. While trying to rescue Draxum, the family has no choice but to resolve their issues regarding him.

Goyles just wants to have fun: Huggin and Muggin are confused when they find Draxum working in a school cafeteria. Draxum asks Leo and Donnie to help improve his image so as not to lose the respect he once had for the Goyles.

Rampaging Raph: Raph comes to Draxum for help after getting trapped in his enormous mystical form. He is ashamed of not having mastered his mystical powers like his brothers. Draxum ends up splitting Raph and his mystical power, which then becomes a problem when the Red Hulk turns red and begins crushing the city, getting stronger with each hit. To save the city, Raph has to confess and ask his brothers for help.

The Island of Dr. Noe: Hunter/dentist Dr. Noe kidnaps Raph and Leo and takes them to his home island. The doctor wants Raph's tooth in his tooth collection.

Toddler Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mikey becomes the oldest when his siblings turn into little turtles after being attacked by an immortal mutant jellyfish bank robber. 163.There is a small chance that Such TMNT and Rise exist at the same time. 164.Production ties were a little over a year from premise. About 8 weeks from premise to draft record, about 12 for a storyboard, 8 for final animation, with design happening all the time. 6 months for full animation, music, etc. 165. You always interacted a lot with the design team when writing 166.Here is the board with the episodes of the series (in season 2), although some are jokes 167.Although Netflix supported Rise for the movie, it is not Ron or Russ's decision whether the series will continue or not, but they want it to continue supporting 168. The best way to support Rise is to keep watching, posting and spreading the word for the show

[bloodlust-1]

The Consort ₊⁺જ⁀➴

NSWF | Explicit 18+ | Angst | Blood | Ascended Astarion | Spawn Tav | Dark | Smut | Trauma | Stockholm Syndrome | Violence

Ascended Astarion x fem Tav

Chapter: 8 | Reflection

Summary: In a tumultuous tale of love, power, and betrayal, Tav finds herself entangled in a complex relationship with Astarion, a heartless vampire lord who will stop at nothing to maintain control over his newfound spawn. As Tav witnesses Astarion’s transformation and descent into darkness, their love is put to the ultimate test amidst love triangles, drama, and the pursuit of world domination. Redemption seems like an elusive goal while Tav grapples with the realization of who her lover has truly become.

UPDATED EVERY MONDAY.

Notes: Hey sinners x) this is a LONG one. I wrote my heart out. Definitely, some Stockholm happening in this chapter…ENJOY;*

AO3 LINK | MASTER LIST

Lovely photo by @astarionposting

Tav’s footsteps echoed through the stone walls as she approached the doors of the Szaar palace. Tav appreciated sharing a home with Astarion, but these walls held so many centuries of trauma...You could feel the unease in the air.

Upon entering, the only sound that greeted her was the crackling of the fireplace in the background and the flickering light across the room.

Her voice settled in her throat, looking around for Astarion, but nothing. It was as if no one was home.

Maybe Astarion wasn't home.

Tav gently took hold of her hair, guiding it over her shoulder, combing her locs over and over to self-soothe herself. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for anything weird.

Everything seemed fine...

Tav took a few steps into the hallway staring down at her feet until that uneasy feeling like she was being watched crept on her. Tav's ears perked up and she saw Astarion standing at the end of the long hall.

He stood tall, emotionless apart from the dried tear streaks covering his cheeks. Red bore into Tav's eyes, sending a cold sweat down her spine. His glare was angry, but his face was a void of any emotion.

Tav's eyes dilated, batting her eyelashes in an attempt to think of...something to say.

Then, the guilt twisted in her stomach when her eyes caught a glimpse of the fresh cut on his cheek. She never meant to hurt him. It was like an animalistic being, deep in her lashed out, literally.

Her lips parted, attempting to speak before Astarion cut right threw her unspoken words.

His chest heavily rose and fell as he uttered her name in a tone devoid of any feeling, “Natavia.”

She flinched at the sound of her full name.

He never called her that. The pit of her stomach knotted and she knew whatever came out his mouth next was serious.

He lifted his chin slightly, staring down at her like she was his prey. "Come here."

Tav stood frozen, unsure of how to proceed as Astarion commanded her to come closer with a sharpness that cut through the silence like a blade.

His sharp tone cut through the silence once more, demanding her with a stern, “Now.” His eyes narrowed even further, oh if looks could kill.

With glossy eyes, she tentatively approached him, her hands fidgeting nervously threw her hair.

Astarion took a deep breath, visibly struggling between anger and sadness. Tav’s gaze drifted to the deep cut, and then to the glisten of old tears on his cheeks.

Was he actually crying for me...?

The gap closed between them in an uncomfortable silence. And when their eyes locked, she saw a storm of conflicting emotions swirling in his eyes.

Anger.

Sadness.

Resentment.

Love?

She reached out her hand to touch his cut, but Astarion instantly grabbed her wrist, pulling her into a tight embrace. He clutched onto her like he'd never held anyone before.

Has he ever held someone like this before?

No.

Just Tav.

Her body was like a bug caught in honey. Unknowingly, he was squeezing her flesh tightly into his hands, his nails digging into her skin.

Tav winced and squirmed under his hold, but he kept her knit in place, fighting against her struggles to keep her close. Scared of her running away from him again.

ASTARION’S POV

He didn’t know why it hurt him so much.

He loved being alone.

But that's how he knew it was different. Because he regretted pushing Tav away earlier.

It was all he ever knew until Tav came into his life, and when Astarion felt a glimmer of that go away;

It was like a stake to the heart, and the consequences of his actions only twisted it further.

Astarion’s vision began to blur, and the walls around him seemed to close in.

Why does it hurt so fucking much?

Mentally, emotionally, physically. Love was too complex for Astarion to understand. He only knew how it felt, but why?

Navigating through emotions was bad enough. He didn’t even know what the hell he was even feeling.

Amid his reeling mind, there was a spark.

Deep in his mind, there was a memory carefully hidden away, to shield him from past traumas.

A memory of Cazador, gripping Astarion much like he held Tav - with a tightness that bordered on possessiveness.  Cazador’s face twisted with control as he dug his nails into Astarion’s flesh, issuing a stern warning never to defy him and emphasizing that his watchful gaze would always linger.

That memory…It was a repeated cycle.

His mind played tricks on him, as if Cazador was there, laughing at him from between the shadows. The taunting echoes of Cazador’s voice rang in his ears.

He knew.

Cazador.

Cazador always knew when Astarion was suffering, and even in death those taunting memories still haunted him so deeply.

Astarion gritted his teeth, burying Tav between his arms as he stared out behind her. The empty hallway was still, but his reality distorted into something much darker.

A hallucination.

For a moment he swore he could see Cazador, standing there with a malicious smile on his face, dripping in his own blood.

The stab marks that Astarion inflicted on him were oozing blood in a grotesque scene and this image burned into Astarion's memory.

It felt so real.

He was there.

Laughing at me.

It was as if Cazador was relishing in Astarion’s fear of loneliness.

The sound of Cazador’s laughter grew louder in his ears, filling the room with a sinister echo. The drops of blood fell from his body and puddled on the carpet.

Astarion clenched his jaw, enfolding Tav protectively within his embrace as he peered past her into nothingness, "No - You're not real!"

The rattle in his dead chest trapped him back into a state he hadn't felt since being Cazador's slave.

Astarion continued to stare out into the empty hall. Only in his mind could he see Cazador taunting him. His breathing became rapid and his tears were histarical. Tav trembled under his hold by the fear in his eyes.

She didn't know what the hell was happening.

Didn't understand what he was seeing.

Tav struggling against Astarion's hold, clutching onto his shirt, "A-Astarion?! What the hell are you talking about." Her voice cracked with concern, hurt, and confusion.

The hallucination tilted their head eerily, whispering devilishly, "You will never be more than what I made you."

"Dirt."

A single word escaped Astarion's lips, barely audible then growing louder with each repetition. “No,” he whispered to himself over and over.

Tears welled up in his eyes, tracing fiery paths down his cheeks. The trauma of being alone ate at him. Tav leaving him after their fight only triggered past feelings of Cazador. It scared him for Tav to leave, even if he pushed her to do it.

And then it hit him.

 I laid bare to the depths of my own vulnerability.

"I killed you!" Ripped from Astarion's lungs.

Astarion dug deeper into Tav's skin and she cried out, "Ahh! Y-You're hurting me!" Tav fought to look back behind her to see who he was yelling at.

But there was no one.

Tav turned her head back to him, her heart squeezing at the fear in his eyes. She wiggled her arms up to cup his face, her hands shaking from his panic attack, "Shhh...Star.."

Astarion hyperventilating, still looking straight forward in front of him with dilated pupils.

And then, the warmth of hands on his cheeks. The touch startled him and felt like protection from this evil hallucination.

Tav’s fingers traced the lines of his cheekbones, and Astarion trembled. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. It felt like a lifeline in the darkness that surrounded him.

The warmth seeped into his skin and felt like a protective barrier against the cold emptiness that usually consumed him.

Like old times.

Is that a bad thing...?

Tav’s touch lingered on his face, Astarion felt something stir within him that he had long forgotten - a flicker of emotion that he dared not name. It was a feeling so foreign yet so achingly familiar, like a long-lost memory resurfacing from the depths of his mind.

Something he neglected to tell Tav.

I love you.

The way Tav’s hands cradled his face with such care and gentleness made Astarion’s unbeating heart skip a beat. It was as if her touch was weaving a spell around him, softening the hardened walls he had built around himself, especially after ascending.

In that fleeting moment, it felt like love - pure and unadulterated.

Tav slowly sank down onto the floor with him, sighing in relief as his nails loosened from her skin, "There's no one there...I'm here now."

His shoulders bounced to the sobs that pressed into her neck. He felt safe, and this 'Ascended Vampire' act fell apart in the moment. Clearly there was still so much unresolved truama that still ate at him.

Even if he didn't want to admit it to himself, Tav was his crutch.

And I was treating her with such disregard.

Why do I do this to myself?

A fear was instilled in him.

That Tav will see me in the way I see myself.

Self sabotage was Astarion's biggest downfall and the only person telling him that was Tav. He didn't want to lose her, not now.

He cried into her shoulder, and Tav wrapped her arms around him. Waiting for his panic attack to subside as his sobs broke her heart into millions of pieces.

He could feel her breathing hitch in hurt and it made him feel so weak.

END POV

She reached out her hand to touch his cut, but Astarion instantly grabbed her hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing the softness of her inner palm. Tav's eyes narrowed to his actions and he tried to calm himself down, for her sake.

Softly with hurt, he spoke, "Don't ever leave me again."

Tav lifted an eyebrow and silently shook her head with confusion, "But you told me to -"

"I don't care what I said." He snapped.

Quickly he took his voice back down, correcting himself. "I...didn't mean it." He ran his fingers over Tav's knuckles, "I....don't know what I meant."

Eating his pride was something Tav knew was hard for him. And he was actually doing it. She noticed the fever on Astarion's cheeks and the somber expression etched in his features.

They held each other in their arms, calming down and catching their breaths from the intense moment. The air around them felt heavy - uncomfortable. And when Tav felt Astarion's body grow relaxed she spoke,

"I'm so sorry for scratching you. I never felt uncontrollable before."

Astarion caught eyes with her and it panged deep in her chest, "And ruin this beautiful face? I'm not worried at all."

Ouch.

Tav flinched at his sarcasm, and she hovered her palm over his cheek. The spark of magic glowed over the cut. She picked up some simple healing spells from Halsin and was now using it on Astarion.

The healing magic kissed his skin, taking away the raw sting from his cheekbone, "There...Beautiful again." Tav sadly smiled with a shrug.

Astarion's breaths were still unsteady and both of them looked like a crying mess. Astarion clicked his tongue and held Tav by the shoulders. He peered closely at her face. In those white voided eyes.

"I've been harsh towards you, haven't I?"

Tav's eyes went wide for a moment. She trailed his features, trying to get a good read on him, "I-....Y-yes. You have."

Astarion nodded as if he was confirming something in his head.

And then those simple words that left his mouth so painstakingly hard, "I'm sorry...my love...my heart." He took her hand and placed it over his heart, sadness in his eyes, "You're right, I didn't respect your opinion as my consort."

"Not even when it came to picking fabric." He added between hesitation, trying to lighten the mood.

Blinded by the ambition to take it all; he abused the respect of his other half. To look down at his most beloved, most loyal, like a common spawn.

Tav was not a 'nobody',

not just another spawn,

She was his.

And anything his was not of little worth. Tav is an important integral part of Astarion. He made her what she is today, and vice versa.

Tav's hands balled up and she pulled away from his touch. Astarion's heart raced and he instantly felt the pit in his stomach.

"I can't keep quiet anymore." A sigh left her lips and she wiped away the tears left in her eyes.

Tav still had blood stained over her mouth, her hair tousled, and reddened eyes and cheeks. She was a mess, "I can't keep this in any longer."

Tell him the truth.

"I killed what was left of you that day..." Tav began, her voice tinged with remorse. "I helped you ascend because I couldn't say no when you looked at me with that face...When you begged me for help. I felt so - horrible for you. I wanted you to get your justice and every desire."

I was so wrong.

She whispered, her voice barely above a breath, "But the old Astarion is gone and I have to live with that, and for this, I'm s-so...sorry."

I am just as horrible as he is.

Tav gleamed at Astarion, their eyes locked in a dance of emotions too complex to name.

He was broken, unloved, and torn between his past self and who he had become. Astarion could see the burden in Tav's eyes and felt the guilt in her touch.

But he never had anything to call his own.

Not until now.

Astarion’s gaze held a mixture of gratitude and sorrow as he spoke, his voice soft yet carrying the weight of centuries. "Regret is a bitter companion, isn’t it? This cannot be undone, my love."

"You sought to help me rise, to grant me what you thought I desired most. I am thankful for it." Astarion continued, his voice tinged with an angered sadness. "The old, weak, Astarion may be gone, but his essence lingers in the shadows of my being."

He never let anyone see right threw him, except Tav.

Astarion leaned his head against Tav's forehead, connecting in a bittersweetness. "Let's not dwell on what once was, and forge a new path forward."

"Together," Astarion whispered.

"I was meant to be here with you. In these damned walls that hold my screams... What once was and what will be, my love...

If I am the villain of this story then so are you. Because I will always be there to protect us."

....

..

..

.

"Protect you."

Tav felt her world grow still, quiet. She helped create this mess and she had no choice but to live in her own chaos they created...maybe it was better to find peace within this chaos. To love Astarion for everything he is and has become.

Tav was never willing to let him go. She made up her mind already that he was hers forever, as did he. She wanted him forever.

Her little love she found at the crash sight so distantly ago.

Maybe it was time to accept.

His red eyes burned into Tav's ashen ones, whispering in an almost alluring tone, “Isn’t that what you want to hear?"

He reached out to grab her chin, nodding her chin up and down with his influence even before Tav could answer for herself, in a breathy tone, "Us - together side by side for eternity..." She could feel his breath hit her lips, "I know it is.”

Tav started to nod 'yes' without his influence, shallowly swallowing, "I want only you out of this world."

She added between his softened gaze on her, "I'll learn to love this new you, even if it pains me."

Astarion brought her frame back into his hold, hugging her with an urgency. "I'm glad you said that. Because I will never let you walk away from me again."

A promise he'll keep.

Tav slowly wrapped her arms around him, hesitant but willing. A sigh of relief left her lips and she finally felt the weight off her heart slowly disapate.

Love went deeper than logic, and maybe she wished to be possessed and wanted by Astarion. To feel a sense of security. His most favorite spawn. It made her feel oddly...special?

Softly, "Astarion?"

Still in her arms, "Yes?"

"It was Cazador wasn't it?...you saw something back there."

Tav felt Astarion stiffen under her hold, "Yes." was all he could muster up. Not that he needed to say anything more.

"He could never hurt you again, Star." Tav buried her head into Astarion's nape and planted a soft kiss on his skin, "I Love you."

Her voice cracked softly, "...so..much."

He believed it.

Tav cared so much for him, and he knew it.

Tav deserved something real and he was willing to accept he may have been treating her with such disregard, "You are the light in my eternal darkness."

A kiss on her forehead. Tender with an unexpected softness, "I love you too."

SOME TIME AFTER ~

Astarion carefully carried Tav to the tub, the warm water invitingly steaming as he helped her sink into its comforting embrace. The room was dimmed with the soft glow of a single candle.

As Astarion began to peel off his clothes, he couldn’t help but notice an odd scent emanating from Tav - a hint of sage that seemed out of place to him.

“That smell, it’s absolutely horrible, dear. It smells like sage,” Astarion remarked with a quirked eyebrow, his red eyes studying her with a frown.

Tav tilted her head slightly, a small smile playing on her lips. “I must have brushed against some on my way here,” she replied softly.

Astarion shrugged it off. He never smelled such a scent on her before. She had to go in the woods somewhere near, it only made sense to him.

He undressed, stepped into the tub, and reached out for a cloth, gently wiping away the smudged blood stain on her chin, his touch surprisingly gentle for someone with his reputation. “You must be full of blood,” he commented curiously.

Tav's eyes fluttered closed, enjoying this rare moment of softness, “I fed on a hare earlier.”

Astarion clicked his tongue against his teeth, washing away the metallic smell, “I could see that.” He stared at the obvious flush in her face. It was something that always happened when fresh blood ran through her veins.

In return, Tav offered to wash Astarion’s back, her fingers tracing the intricate patterns of scars that adorned his skin. A faint sigh escaped Astarion’s lips as he leaned into her touch, allowing himself a rare moment of vulnerability.

Within the comforting silence Astarion questioned Tav, “Where did you run off to?” he asked voided of any emotion.

Tav hesitated for a moment. “I needed some time alone outside the city walls,” she replied simply, leaving the rest unspoken between them.

Tav swallowed softly, gazing down at the scared skin. She didn't want to tell Astarion about Ross. She was scared and anxious. Not after what had just happened.

She shook off the thought...nothing happened between them anyway.

Tav was allowed to have friends...

Wasn't she?

At that moment, a secret desire stirred within Astarion – the longing to share his blood with her so she could walk freely in the sun. He had kept this a secret away from her, to keep her close to him by all means.

It was a power play to test Tav of her loyalty.

However, Astarion had a new desire to spoil his most beloved, and sharing just a drop of blood will grant her Metotopholese's gift. Of course Tav would still be a spawn, not a true vampire like himself.

Astarion slowly turned his gaze towards Tav, the gentle ripples of water caressing her skin as he drew closer. In the moment, a flicker of softness caught in their stares, his eyes like a sad puppy. It was filled with unspoken emotions and tenderness.

Tav gently tilted her head as she peered into his face. Her question hung in the air, “Is everything okay?” she spoke softly.

He didn't answer her question.

Instead, He pushed back the strands of dark locs to get a clear view of her neck. Astarion's hand fell over her flesh, the warmth of the water caressed Tav's nape as his hand rested on her neck.

His touch was gentle as his thumb traced the faded fang marks. The memories of them running off together at camp flooded back, it bittersweetly played like a movie reel in his mind.

A soft single chuckle huffed out his nose with a cracked smile. How Tav used to smile brighter back then.

That cheeky grin of hers.

Astarion gently pressed his lips against Tav’s cheek. He then brought his hand to his own mouth, using one of his fangs to delicately slice the tip of his finger, allowing a small bead of blood to form.

Tav's initial shock quickly turned into panic, "What the hell are you doing?!" She instinctively reached out to grab his hand, but Astarion was quicker. He brought his finger to her lips, brushing against them lightly despite her resistance.

“At the party…I told you I wanted to share something with you. Just trust me,” he affirmed sternly in a whisper as he smeared the slick of blood against Tav’s lips.

She hesitated for a moment before slowly opening her mouth, her eyes glossed in curiosity and nervousness. Her fingers automatically wrapped around his wrist as he slid his fingers into her mouth.

Tav's taste buds were greeted by the metallic flavor of blood, with an unexpected touch of sweetness. It was unlike any blood she had ever tasted before.

Her tongue sensually brushed his fingers, gliding over the fresh cut while obediently sucking. Astarion watched her with possessive eyes, a glint of satisfaction dancing in them while continuing to savor the taste of blood on his fingers.

Astarion pressed his finger deeper into her mouth, urging her jaw to widen to accommodate its size. His thumb tenderly brushed against the side of her cheek, causing her eyes to water over with submission.

There was an undeniable allure in degrading Tav that ignited a sense of power within Astarion. It stirred every fiber of his being, exhilarating him to no end.

And the best part about it - she'd let him.

Astarion wetted his lips while watching Tav gag on his fingers. With a satisfied glint on his features, Astarion pulled his fingers away. He hungrily bore into Tav's eyes, sucking the excess blood off his middle finger with a 'pop.'

Tav's face flushed with fever, taken off guard from his sudden advancements. She couldn't tell if this was a good deed or if there was a trick to it...

“It shouldn’t take too long to run through your veins,” Astarion murmured, his voice low and hypnotic.

Tav shifted uncomfortably in the warm water, a flicker of unease crossing her features. “You’re kinda freaking me out,” eyeing Astarion warily.

Astarion chuckled softly, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “No need to be afraid, my treasure,” he reassured, reaching out a hand toward Tav. “You’ll see soon enough.”

Tav hesitated for a moment before reluctantly extending her own hand towards Astarion’s outstretched palm. “Now be a good pup and heal this,” Astarion whispered, his eyes gleaming with an otherworldly gaze.

“Yes, love…” Tav replied uncertainly.

The flesh glowed between their skin with magic. The soft light touched his skin back to normal.

In the midst of healing, Tav felt a sudden fiery sensation coursing through her, a euphoric feeling that tingled her skin and momentarily hazed her vision.

A voice broke through the sensation, "My dear - Do you feel it yet?"

What's happening?

Tav's body went still for a moment, her eyes darting around the room in confusion and awe. The world around her seemed to shift and everything became hyper-focused, she became acutely aware of her surroundings.

It's freaking me the fuck out.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly with panic, struggling to comprehend the overwhelming sensations clawing at her.

Astarion gently held her by the shoulders and whispered reassuringly, "There, there... let it take its course."

she nodded, between panicked breaths, Just as her lips were about to speak she looked down at the water. And there it was.

My reflection.

Tav’s heart leaped in her chest, causing her to jump back in surprise, her breath catching in her throat as she looked at Astarion with wide, glossy eyes. “How… My reflection!”

She couldn’t help but admire the sight of those pale eyes she had missed seeing for so long. Her fingers gently grazed her cheeks, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

A sudden realization dawned on her, and she whispered to herself in a gasp, “Oh! That means…”

“Darling?”

Astarion’s voice broke Tav out of her trance. Without a second thought, Tav booked it.

With a splash, Tav scrambled out of the tub, quickly, tripping over herself in the rush of the moment.

Astarion sighed out loud, shaking his head with an exacerbated chuckle. But his ears perked up when he heard a nearby door slam.

She was completely naked.

He knew exactly what she wanted to see.

The sun.

Near their biggest window.

Astarion's eyes went wide,

"....For fucks sake!"

Next part here

Any thoughts? Comment 👇🏼 I love to engage!

Okay— admitingly I’m still educating myself about ascended Astarion, and things in this fic aren't always game canon. Again, this is a fic and it’s totally made up.. ^^

Ahh, an emotional rollercoaster, and some comedic relief at the end there. Expect some fluff and mending of Tav and Astarion's bond ^^ they deserve some personal time together. We'll get back to some drama soon after...see ya next week!

[bonefall]

Talk and/or rant about why you like Bumble from DotC please?

Bumble makes me want to cry. Her story is just... heartbreaking. She's one of the sweetest, most honest characters in the entire series, and the way she is abused by Tom the Wifebeater and denied asylum by the Moor Cats, then murdered for Clear Sky's arc, genuinely makes me feel sick.

But I've talked about that before. Many, many times. Let me celebrate her brief life for this one post, just covering her during The Sun Trail. Her first appearance in Book 2 where Clear Sky murders her, Thunder Rising, is the start of the scene that begins her slow, agonizing death.

I don't only love her out of spite for how she died; I love her because she was a wonderful, warm, confident character, and an excellent friend. She provided relief from the agonizing Settler group, who are insufferably angsty and controlling of each other, and most importantly, space away from Turtle Tail's awful friend, Gray Wing.

The closer that Bumble gets to Turtle Tail, the more confrontational Gray Wing becomes. He starts to hate Bumble, as if she's stealing his Plan B while he spends all the rest of his time with Storm. I'm convinced that the writers (and the fandom sometimes <_<) believe that this is "compelling romantic drama" which makes Turtle x Gray sweeter when it finally happens, but it just makes me feel like TurtleGray is the Bad Ending for every woman character involved.

After a brief appearance as she witnesses the Settlers arrive on the moor, the very first time we get to meet Bumble is when Gray Wing and Turtle Tail are hanging out on some sunny rocks. She's cheerful, outgoing, and curious, wanting to get to know her new neighbors.

Gray Wing, the POV character, immediately makes an incorrect assumption about her weight, thinking she won't be able to climb. She can, just fine, and she plays an Uno Reverse card on how skinny they are lmao

First thing out of her mouth is, "Oh you are SKIN AND BONES!!" Same energy as grandma who is about to make you feel more full than you have ever been in your entire life, considering she's going to open her home to Turts in a couple chapters.

They get into a conversation where Bumble asks where they came from, and why they left the mountains. She remains friendly and open, just enjoying small talk with these total strangers. She's enjoyable and lighthearted, in welcome contrast to the Settler's group which is full of moping, miserable cats.

(and in my live-read I was even frustrated at the time by how it seemed like the Settlers would have 1 or 2 nice moments, and then go back to fighting or brooding. It's unpleasant.)

In this first interaction it's just a glimmer, but it seems that what Turtle Tail LIKES about Bumble is that she makes her feel special. She LISTENS, unlike how Gray Wing is going to be in a couple of chapters.

She likes telling the shocking tale of giant birds to Bumble, and Bumble is happy that they're away from such hardships now. When Turtle Tail turns the questions back on her, Bumble is happy to gush about her life as a house cat.

She loves her people, playing with their children and always having plenty of food, explaining that when she gets bored she comes to the woods for a nice walk. Then, she mentions something very important.

Historically, there WAS no aggression towards outsiders. Cats like Bumble didn't take what they didn't need, and were left alone for it. This first interaction paints the full picture. Bumble wasn't afraid of the Settlers because there never was a reason to be scared.

CLEAR SKY is inventing the borders to aggrieve random cats. Him. His idea. Before him, you could walk through the forest freely like Bumble did.

This is before the arc irrevocably goes up in flames at the end of Book 3 by committing to a Clear Sky "Redemption," and is forced to create One Eye and Slash out of nowhere for Books 4/5/6. Before that absolutely baffling mistake of a choice, it is clear that The Settlers are the problem.

There WAS no Slash or One Eye. They were retconned in midway through the arc to make Clear Sky and The Settlers look less bad.

After this exchange, Turtle Tail dismisses Bumble's way of life and chuckles at a joke Gray Wing makes about how they'll probably never see Bumble again because she'll be afraid of them... but she's thinking about her. It strikes me as being the same kind of feeling as the swirling, murky feeling of a new crush.

Can't get the chunky kitty girl out of her head, can you, Turtle Tail?

We don't see Bumble for a few more chapters, but in her next appearance, it's implied she's been visiting Turtle Tail for a while. Gray Wing sees them sharing a meal. Please note how Turts is immediately defensive. As if she feels like she's being caught in the middle of doing something wrong.

(Tangent: note the constant suspicion and aggression towards Wind and Gorse. who live here.)

Gray Wing is as oblivious as ever. For a character described as "wise" he's incredibly dense towards the feelings of others. Yet, always, ALWAYS, Bumble is cheerful. This brewing animosity is NOT returned, she's happy to see him again.

He tries to recruit her to the moor group and she enthusiastically declines with a "No way! I love my life, actually!"

As soon as she's out of earshot, Here Comes The Confrontation. The exact one that Turtle Tail correctly anticipated when she got defensive earlier;

"You shouldn't have friends I don't approve of, Turtle Tail. It bothers me."

How can I NOT love Bumble? When her primary purpose is to be a friend for Turtle Tail, while Gray Wing is either ignoring her or sending her on guilt trips through this entire book? She's RELIEF for a woman who's being treated like trash, and every time she shows up she's doing something cute or helpful!

(Tangent: This book's pacing is garbage. The next scene is a sudden fox raid where a billion foxes attack the camp, and then the Settlers reveal that they don't know what a fox is. BUMBLE taught Turtle Tail about the danger of foxes. This is contradicted by the later books where there's cats back at the tribe named after foxes and Quiet Rain calls her shittiest son a foxheart. But there's waaay worse continuity errors in this arc.)

Gray Wing, the POV, hates her for no goddamn reason. It's right there on the page that he can't give Turtle Tail an answer as to why she should stop hanging out with her. The two continue to fight as Turts desperately tries to salvage their relationship while Gray Wing finds ways to snap at her or offend her.

I think the next appearance of Bumble is actually the most cringeworthy, though. I get secondhand embarrassment reading this one.

Turts just stayed with her friend overnight, and Gray Wing throws a fit about it, hissing at her that she's using the wrong terms and that she's forgotten where she belongs. Bumble watches this all happen like 😬, and then when Turtle Tail apologizes for this asshole having a conniption, he hisses AGAIN and whines about how he doesn't need to be apologized for.

But Bumble, up to her very last appearance in this book, is helpful and open.

After Gray Wing is nearly slaughtered by Fox at the border on Clear Sky's orders, so he kills him in self defense, causing Clear Sky to disown Gray Wing as his brother, which is the final straw for the pregnant Storm to run off, and then The Pacing Brothers have a casual chat over the still-warm corpse of the dead lackey, the input lag finally sends the signal to Gray Wing's brain that he needs to go find Storm.

It's BUMBLE that tells him where she can be found, as always, cutting through tension. Turtle Tail stays behind because she's understandably fed up with Gray Wing, so Bumble brings him where he needs to go. She guides him through the town, over roads, to the abandoned building where Storm is staying.

Gray Wing whines the whole time because he is a loser.

It's also interesting to me that when Bumble's annoyed with him, she doesn't huff or even get rude. She just glances back, and points out that there's disadvantages to his lifestyle too. You get used to it.

In better books, Gray Wing's POV would be considered unreliable in the end. He's an oblivious jackass whose thickness causes him to treat other people poorly, EXCEPT for his monstrous brother, whose violence and abuse he enables through the entire series. Though he's hailed as a "perfect boy so very full of love," he causes a LOT of the problems in his own relationships and familial dynamics.

Smarter books would encourage you to step back and think critically about the events as he perceived them;

Why did his judgement of Bumble begin to harden as Turtle Tail spent more time with her? Did Bumble do anything to deserve this?

Did Gray Wing's behavior lead to Turtle Tail's eventual decision to leave the moor? Were there other factors?

What are the flaws he can identify about himself? How will he grow from this?

Are there broader problems with The Settlers, which may have influenced the mindsets of both Turtle Tail and Gray Wing?

Unfortunately with Gray Wing, the only thing they identify as a "problem" in how he treated Turts in The Sun Trail is that he spent less time with her, as he pursued Storm. The controlling behavior and frequent arguing, the condescension, and the public embarrassment are NOT treated as negative traits to address as the series goes on.

(they never are. These are not directly addressed in any of the other terrible men in the series; Clear Sky, Bramblestar, Raggedstar, etc. only paternal neglect is condemned. Men are even allowed to beat their kids and it will not be called out.)

And breaking through that lens, you see Bumble. Who is just here to be a person that Turtle Tail needs, a good friend, someone who's confident, self-assured, and LOVES the life that she lives. I can't help but feel joy every time she walks onto the screen in The Sun Trail, because Gray Wing is SO frustrating that I'm rooting for Turtle Tail to go somewhere that she'll be appreciated.

It's as if they NEEDED to invent Tom the Wifebeater, who spawns in like some kind of random event just before Thunder Rising (the humans just... went to the shelter and adopted The Worst Cat. No checks on if he's aggressive towards other cats or anything), so that Turtle would HAVE some kind of reason to leave. Because, as you can see here, she wouldn't have gone back otherwise.

[j-eryewrites]

Look for the Light

The final part of A Sinner's Redemption

SERIES MASTER LIST | MAIN MASTER LIST

Previous

Word Count: ~9.8k

Author's Note: Agh, I'm honestly crying. It's all too bittersweet. I started this fic over a year ago, and now it's over. I'm happy with how it ended and I'm glad you were all there along for the ride. Thank you for all your support for "A Sinner's Redemption". I hope you all enjoy the conclusion to Ellie, Joel, and Piper's story.

- With much love, the author.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, spoilers for the last episode and game, Joel goes full momma bear, mentions of death, suicidal ideation, mental health, explicit language, major angst and hurt (with comfort), deceit and lies, gun violence, mentions of gore, description of gore, Joel kills a whole bunch of people, mentions of surgery and medical procedures, mentions of infected, descriptions of child birth, mentions of trauma and coping mechanisms, mentions of injuries and scars (let me know if I missed anything)

Look for the Light (the Final Chapter)

Piper seemed to hit every low branch as she was dragged along. The warm hand holding hers was sweaty. Her mother’s long fingers tightened its hold.

“Ow, mommy,” Piper whined. She looked up at her mom, who quickly apologized, fighting off a painful groan.

“Baby, let’s keep going. Come on.” Anna, the girl’s mom, tugged her child along. A distant howl made her blood run cold. Everything was going wrong. Contractions constricted her body’s muscles. A runner was after them.  She’d been running for who knows how long with Piper in tow. Despite the overwhelming surge of fear, Anna knew one thing. She had to keep her sweet girl safe. Both of them, now that the other one was fighting to come out into the world. 

“Mommy, I-“

Anna pulled Piper along. “I know, sweet girl. I know. Once we get to the house, we’ll be safe. I promise.” 

Heavy huffs of breath fall from Anna’s mouth. The pains were getting worse. She couldn’t keep the sound in—the sound the monster used to track them. 

“Fuck,” Anna cried, using her free hand to clutch her round stomach. 

“Mommy?” Piper peered up at Anna with worried eyes.

Taking a deep breath, Anna softly smiled down at her daughter. “Mommy’s okay, Pipes. Mommy’s okay.” She knew Piper didn’t believe her. Three-year-olds were brilliant, especially when it came to their mothers. 

“Look, Pipes.” Anna pointed to the tall gray house up ahead. “We’re here.”

Anna hastily waddled her and Piper along into the house. The door swung open. “It’s me!” Anna announced. No one answered. Frantically, she looked around. “Anyone?!”

“Mommy?” 

“Not now, sweetie.” A screech pierced the air. “Shit!” Anna cursed, pulling Piper up the stairs and into the farthest room. “In here, sweetie.” 

Letting go of her daughter’s hand, Anna closed the door, locked it, and dragged a chair to barricade the room. 

“Mommy?” Piper whispered. Her tiny finger pointed to the puddle of water underneath Anna’s legs. 

“Oh…” Anna grasped her stomach. “Sweetie,” Anna winced. “Help mommy sit down.” 

Piper ran to her mom’s side, reaching for her hand. With a thump, Anna collapsed against the floor. Gently, she wiped some of the grime off of Piper’s face. 

“I love you; you know that, right?” Anna asked. Piper nodded.

Suddenly, glass broke. It came from downstairs. Anna bit her lip to stifle her groan. “Baby, go hide in-,” Anna howled in pain. “Go hide.”

The chair against the door thumped. Growls seeped through the cracks. It found them. 

“Piper! Go-“

The door flung open. The infected charged into the room. Its sights were set on Anna’s little girl. Except it didn’t attack Piper. With a swing, the girl was tossed to the side. The infected’s actual target was revealed as it lunged at Anna. 

Piper screamed, and Anna fought. With a switchblade, she swiped at the monster, fighting it off as her body fought to push a baby out. The creature gnashed its teeth, searching for something to bite. The rotten bones found home in Anna’s thigh. She cried out in pain, bringing down the blade into the Infected. She grunted with each slice of her weapon until it dropped dead. 

A new cry filled the air. It was the baby. 

“Oh…oh…” Anna cooed, lifting her baby. She was tiny. Her frail arms flailed in the air. Her dark eyes crinkled open. 

“Mommy?” Piper’s voice called to her mom.

Anna glanced up. “Piper, come meet your sister.” 

Piper tip-toed over to her mom and new baby sister. 

“Hi…hey…” Anna cooed. She turned the baby over to Piper. The young girl brought her face as close as possible to her new sister. 

“She looks funny,” Piper muttered. 

The baby started to cry again. Anna held her close. “Did I make her cry?” Piper sniffled. Anna shook her head and chuckled. 

“No, sweet girl. Babies just cry.” Then Anna turned to the baby.  “Yeah, you tell ’em. You fuckin’ tell ’em, Ellie.”

“Hi Ellie…” Piper whispered. Baby Ellie grew quiet. Her bright, wide eyes looked over at her mom and sister. “I’m your big sister.”

“Do you want to hold her, Pipes?” Piper nodded. With her tiny arms, Piper held Ellie close. 

“Hold her head like this, and-“ Anna adjusted Piper’s arms. “Just like that.” Anna sank deeper into the wall. Her eyes watched over her daughters, the view growing blurry. 

“Yeah, it’s okay…” Anna whispered to herself. The pain in the thigh crawled its way around her body. She could feel the infection spread. 

“Piper,” Anna said. “Can you take your sister and sit in the corner over there?” Piper looked confused but did as her mother said. 

Anna bit back a growl. “Fuck,” she quietly cursed. She prayed that Marlene and the others would be back soon. She prayed the last thing her daughters would see was their mother become a monster. 

“It’s okay.” 

When Anna opened her eyes next, crickets began to chirp outside. Silently, she scolded herself for closing her eyes. Beside her, Piper sat, curled up around her baby sister, the two of them fast asleep. Anna lovingly smiled even if Piper had left the corner. 

Taking a hand, she began to run her fingers through Piper’s hair. Her voice croaked but quickly smoothed out as she sang to her baby girls. 

♪ Hold me ♪

♪ Close to your heart ♪

♪ Touch me ♪

♪ Give all your love to me. ♪

“Anna?” Marlene’s voice called out. Anna sat up straighter as the door to the room creaked open. Bright white lights momentarily blinded her. 

“Oh god,” Marlene cursed, noticing the bite on Anna’s thigh. 

With a calm voice, Anna looked up at her friend. “It’s not your fault.”

“We were delayed getting out of the zone. I’m so-“

“They’re hungry,” Anna said, looking down at her girls. “The baby needs to be fed, and I…I didn’t wanna nurse her.” Marlene furrowed her brows in skepticism. “I cut it before I was bit, and it never got to Piper. Marlene,” Anna begged.”Before.”

Sighing, Marlene lowered her gun and approached Anna. Her hands gently reached for the baby in Piper’s arms. Unconsciously, the young girl’s grip tightened around her sister. 

“Sweet girl,” Anna whispered, rubbing her finger gently up and down her daughter’s nose. “Piper, I need you to wake up.”  Piper stirred and snuggled deeper into her mother’s side. “Baby, please.” Piper awoke. Bringing her hands to the sides of Piper’s face, Anna smiled. Her eyes fought back tears. “There’s my sweet girl.”

“Mommy?” Piper said groggily. 

“Yeah, it’s mommy. I need you to promise me something, Piper. Can you do that for mommy?” Piper nodded. “Can you promise to watch over your sister?” Again, Piper nodded, wiping the sleep away. “I need you to be a big girl and a big sister.” Tears began to flow out of Anna’s eyes. “I need you to promise me you’ll always be with her. Piper and Ellie forever. Okay?” 

“Mommy, why are you crying?” Piper’s hand reached up to her mom’s face. Her tiny fingers wiped away tears. Anna struggled to peel off her daughter’s hands. 

“Piper, remember Aunty Marlene? She’s gonna take you and Ellie to a new home.”

“Where are you gonna go, mommy?” Piper asked, and Anna wanted to break in two. 

“I want you to…” Anna’s voice trembled as she looked at Marlene. “…take them with you to Boston… find someone to bring them up, and make sure that they’re safe.” 

“I can’t do that,” Marlene breathed, but Anna ignored her.

“And I want you to give her this.” Anna handed over a small switchblade. 

“Anna.”

“Her name is Ellie,” Anna explained. 

“I can’t,” Marlene sternly said.

“How long have we known each other?” Anna asked. Her eyes held strength even as her mind fought the monster crawling within. 

“Our whole lives,” Marlene answered.

“So you pick her up right now…take Piper, and then you kill me.”

“I can’t kill you.”

“Please, please, please.” Anna cried as Marlene stepped away with her daughters in tow. “Please!”

“Mommy?!” Piper began to cry, seeing her mother so distressed. 

Anna groaned as a growl grew from her chest. It was coming—the monster. 

“Marlene!” Anna screamed. Tears poured freely from her face. 

“Mommy!” Piper flailed around as Marlene drew her back from her mom. “Mommy!!”

Suddenly, Marlene’s hand withdrew and was replaced by another. 

“Here,” Marlene instructed the Firefly. “Hold her head… There you go.” Ellie cooed in the man’s arms. “Cover her ears.” Then she crouched down to Piper. “Cover your ears for me, Piper.” 

Piper shook her head. Her only thought was her mother. “Mommy!” She cried. Anna’s sobs followed the sound. 

Marlene clenched her jaw and stood up. The gun felt heavy in her hand as she marched back into the room. She had to make it quick. Anna nodded and closed her eyes. Thoughts of her daughters flashed before her as the bullet tore through her skull. 

Piper’s ears rang. Ellie cried, and her sister screamed. Piper didn’t stop screaming for her mother until sleep overcame her petite body. Even when she woke up, she still cried for Anna. But she’d never come. Instead, Piper clung to her baby sister. Although memories faded with time, one thing remained clear. Piper promised. It was her and Ellie. Sisters forever. 

꧁_____________꧂

A smile beamed from Joel’s face at his surprise find. Pulling himself away from the car, he called out to his girls. There was no response. He sighed. 

“Ellie! Piper!”

No reaction. Joel walked closer to the truck the girls sat on. Their eyes glazed over, stuck in their own heads. 

“Girls!” 

Piper blinked, her ears ringing as Joel’s voice called out to her. With a gentle nudge of her elbow, she pulled Ellie out of her trance. 

“D’ya hear me?” Joel asked the girls. 

“No…,” Ellie shook her head. “What?”

“Well,” Joel began, “found this in there. Beefaroni. Chef Boyardee.” He proudly grinned at them. 

“Oh, cool,” they muttered at the same time. Their postures shrank back down. 

“And have you ever played this?” Joel blurted, regaining the girl’s attention. “Boggle? It’s a word game.”

The girls shook their heads. 

“Well, if you wanna beat me at somethin’, it would be this.” Ellie’s ears perked up at Joel’s words, but she didn’t speak. Neither of them did. 

With each moment of silence, Joel felt his heart tear in smaller and smaller pieces. “Well, all right then. We’re gettin’ close.” He strolled over to the girls, packing away his finds. 

“Mm-hmm,” Ellie hummed. 

“Hospital that way.” Joel pointed over their shoulders. “May be the one we’re lookin’ for.”

“Got it,” Ellie muttered, hopping off the back of the truck. 

Slowly, Piper placed her feet on the ground. Her hands clutched tightly to the metal of the vehicle. Joel’s eyes flashed with pity, looking at the teen. 

Scars had littered her body. The biggest one was found on her face like a crevice carved by tears from her now pale eye. She couldn’t see out of it anymore. A consequence Joel blamed himself for. Joel had done his best to help her heal, but it was never enough to stave off the bouts of pain that would arise from time to time. He knew even more scars were hiding deeper under her skin—for both of them.

“Take this for me?” Joel asked Piper, holding up his gun. She held it as Joel slung the backpack over his shoulder. “Thanks.” Piper nodded, brushing her hair behind her ears. 

It had grown out since they’d left Jackson. Her dark curls were tucked beneath her chin. The length helped hide some of the more minor scars that lined her face. 

“They had a guitar in that RV,” Joel announced as they passed an abandoned RV on the highway. The girls nodded with false amusement. “It was all smashed up but got me thinkin’, maybe I should find one. I haven’t played in forever.” Joel turned to look behind him at Ellie and Piper. “In fact, I was thinkin’ maybe I could teach you two. I bet you guys be great at it. Maybe make our own little band.” A slight chuckle left Joel’s mouth as he thought about a band of the three of them plucking away at guitars. “Do you two wanna learn how to play guitar?”

Piper shrugged before tripping over some rubble. Thankfully, she caught herself before falling to the ground. 

“Ellie?” Joel muttered. 

“Hm?” Ellie’s brain quickly recovered. “Oh, yeah. That’d be great. A little guitar band.”

Joel smiled at his girls. His grin was big enough for the three of them when neither of his girls felt like smiling. 

The birds chirped louder and louder as they entered Salt Lake City. Even in late spring, the city emitted a ghastly heat. 

“Okay, so this is what I’m thinking…” Joel began, wiping sweat from his forehead.  

“Cut through that building to get around that stuff, find the skyscraper, go up and look around,” Ellie vacantly finished.

Joel’s eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly collected himself. “Uhh, actually, this time, I was thinkin’ we blast our way through that rubble.” The girls looked up at him with expressions of pure confusion. “I found some dynamite in that RV back there,” Joel said, fighting off a telling smile. 

“Really?” The girls cocked their brows. 

“No,” Joel teased. The smile exploded on his face. “So we’re gonna cut through that building, find a skyscraper, go up and look around. But I had you goin’, didn’t I?”

Piper rolled her eyes and bit back a smile. Ellie scoffed and continued on walking. 

“Look at this place,” Joel muttered, peeking around the abandoned construction site. “Talk about bad luck.” Ellie sent him a questioning look, and Joel answered. “Military drops bombs… not one of them hits the building you’re trying to demolish.” 

“No way up,” Piper mumbled. Joel peered around, discovering she was right. Spotting the edges of a ladder above, Joel turned to the girls. 

“I get you two up there. You guys can drop that ladder down; maybe we go through that way,” Joel proposed. “Come on. I’ll give you a boost.” 

Piper stepped up. Her hand clutched onto Joel’s shoulder as he hoisted her up. He could feel her legs shaking in hesitation as she reached for the edge. Suddenly, her legs buckled beneath her. 

“You okay?” Joel asked. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just my leg.” Piper’s hand rubbed the area where she got shot. “Get Ellie to do it.”

“Alright.” Joel nodded. “Ellie?” The girl didn’t answer him. “Ellie?”

“Els!” Piper yelled. 

“What?” Ellie said, whirling around. Her attention had been taken away from the flapping construction sheet. 

“You alright?” Joel questioned. “It’s just you kinda seem extra quiet today, so.”

“Oh… I’m sorry,” Ellie apologized.

“No, it’s fine,” Joel reassured her. “Did you hear what I…”

“Yeah, boost. Got it.” 

Marching over to Joel, Ellie copied Piper’s earlier motions.

“One… two, up.” Ellie stood up tall and reached for the edge. A grunt escaped her mouth as she pulled herself up. The ladder clattered as Ellie slid it down to Joel. 

“Ya got it?” Ellie asked. 

“Yeah,” Joel huffed, trying to latch onto the ladder. Suddenly, the ladder dropped. The metal clambered to the floor. Joel narrowly dodged the object. 

“God damn it, Ellie!” Joel cursed and picked up the ladder. “Shit.”

“You stay there!” He instructed Ellie. 

She didn’t listen. Joel heard her voice echo off the walls of the building as she moved away from the ledge. “You gotta see this!” She exclaimed with excitement. 

“Ellie?!” Joel yelled. Climbing up the ladder. Upon reaching the top, he helped Piper come to her feet before they ran after Ellie. 

“Up here!” Ellie announced. 

“Ellie!” Joel reprimanded. 

“C’mon!” He could practically hear the young girl jumping up and down with joy. “C’mon, slow pokes.”

“Just wait. God damn it,” Joel grumbled. His knees ached as he trekked up the stairs and after Ellie. When he got to the top, his breath stilled. 

His feet didn’t move. He stood there watching Ellie admire a giraffe. Piper stopped beside him, catching her breath before she approached her sister and the animal. Joe wanted to freeze time as the girls stared in awe at the peaceful creature. But time didn’t work like that. 

Slowly, Joel stepped forward. 

“Don’t scare it,” Ellie whispered. 

“I won’t.”

His hands deftly snapped some leaves off the tree the animal was munching on. He passed the leaves to his girls. 

“What are you doing?” Ellie asked, taking the leaves.

“It’s all right.” Then Joel stuck out his hand, feeding the giraffe. He raised his brows and motioned for the girls to do the same. “Come here, hurry up. Come on.”

Ellie was the first to step up. Hesitantly, she stuck out her hand as far away as she could from her body. The giraffe sniffed the leaves before opening its mouth to munch on them. Its dark tongue licked around Ellie’s hand. Giggles erupted from the girl’s mouth.

“Ellie, give me a try,” Piper interjected, sticking her hand of leaves to the creature. The giraffe moved from Ellie’s hand to Piper’s and began to feast. Disgust and amusement contorted on the teen’s face. 

“God, it’s wet and it tickles.” Piper felt a shiver go down her spine. Ellie laughed and teased her sister. 

Scratch what he thought earlier. If Joel could freeze time, he’d do it now. His girls were happy. God, he hadn’t heard them laugh in so long. It was better than any music he’d ever heard in his life. 

“So fucking cool,” Ellie muttered at the giraffe. Before the girls knew it, their hands were empty of leaves, and the giraffe had pulled back. Its lanky legs were taking it away. 

“Aw, where’s she going?” Ellie hopped back before entering a sprint, determined to follow the giraffe. “Come on, come on, come on, come on!”

Piper skipped after her, eager to spend longer with the animal. 

“Okay,” Joel chuckled, chasing after his girls.

When he finally reached them, Joel couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of deja vu. There, Ellie and Piper stood, gazing out across a city. The sunlight reflected off the shattered windows of the skyline. Nature overcame the city. Vines and trees ensnared everything in sight.

“So… is it everything ya hoped for?” Joel repeated himself. 

Ellie grinned. “It’s got its ups and downs… but you can’t deny that view.” 

Joel laughed and then joined them. The view was lovely. His eyes scanned the scene and froze on what appeared to be a hospital. 

“Look,” he turned to Ellie and Piper. “I don’t know exactly where this hospital is…”

“Yeah, we’ll find it.” Ellie didn’t remove her gaze from the view. 

“Sure. It’s just…” Joel trailed off, thinking of his following words. “Maybe there’s nothin’ bad out there, but so far, there’s always been somethin’ bad out there.” 

“We’re still here, though.” Ellie was facing him now. 

“I know. I’m only saying there’s risk.” Taking a deep breath, Joel made sure he had both girls' full attention. “We don’t have to do this. I just… I want you to know that.” 

Piper froze. All of a sudden, she felt like she was on fire. Did she want to do this? She knew what awaited her and Ellie. Sick boiled in her stomach, and Piper wished she hadn’t eaten anything that day. 

“What do you mean? What else are we supposed to do?” Ellie questioned. 

“Nothin’. We just go back to Tommy’s.” Piper could tell it was all he wanted to do by the way Joel spoke. “We forget about the whole damn thing.”

Ellie shook her head. “After all we’ve been through… everything I’ve done… it can’t be for nothing.”

With Ellie’s confirmation, Piper knew her answer. She could see the hope in Ellie’s eyes. Those eyes had been so void of anything since their entrapment with David. Piper had already failed Ellie once. She knew she couldn’t do it again. How would she live with herself if she let her sister mindlessly walk alone into death's hands? 

“I know you mean well,” Joel began. 

Standing straighter, Ellie interrupted. “I know you wanna protect me. You have. And when we’re done, we’ll go wherever you want. Tommy’s, sheep ranch, the moon.” Joel laughed. 

Inside, Piper cried. Her dream flashed in her mind. She returned to it every night and almost stayed in her dream that day.  God, Piper wanted more than anything to have her dream come true. But Piper had made a promise. It was her and Ellie until the end, and if Ellie wanted to march right into death's arms, so would she. After all, maybe then Piper could do something good. Maybe in her death, she’d finally be able to do what she always wished- then perhaps she’d be able to save someone instead of killing. 

“I’ll follow you anywhere you go,” Ellie continued. “ But there’s no halfway with this. We finish what we started.” 

꧁_____________꧂

Joel’s plan was a plan. That was all Piper could say. After they’d found a way around all the rubble, Joel decided they would just walk around. They’d stumble upon the hospital eventually. However, Piper saw through Joel’s confusion. It was hard to comment on anything over her pain. 

The worst of it came from her leg. Getting shot wasn’t fun. It's definitely an experience Piper wouldn’t recommend. Next came the pain in her eye. About a day or two after they escaped from the cannibalistic cult, she started to lose vision until she became completely blind. 

It was tricky navigating the world with a crippled leg and a narrower peripheral vision. Some days, it was too hard. Phantom pain from her other injuries nabbed at her, cutting deep into her mind. She was weak. Piper couldn’t even walk a few miles without her leg giving out. Most of their travels to Salt Lake consisted of Piper using Joel as a crutch. Eventually, Joel assembled one for her, but she refused to use it. She just couldn’t. Not when she knew how strong she could be. If anything, Piper would just suffer through the pain. After all, it’s what she deserved for failing her sister. Piper deserved it all. 

“Was this a FEDRA thing?” Ellie’s voice cut through the torment circling Piper’s mind. 

Joel shook his head as they entered the abandoned encampment. “No. Army,” he corrected. “They put these places up all around the first few days after the outbreak. Emergency medical camps. Obviously, it didn't last. They had me in one just like this.”

Looking back, Joel noticed Piper lagging. Her face clenched as her hand grazed over her leg. Nodding to Ellie, he led them to a makeshift bench. The tension in Piper’s face eased.

“Were you there with Sarah?” Ellie asked, resuming their previous conversation.

“No,” Joel’s face dropped as he looked at his hands. “She was gone already.”

“Oh,” uttered Ellie. 

“So what did happened?” Piper piped up to distract from the lingering pain in her thigh. 

“It was for this.” Joel pointed to the scar on the side of his head. 

Ellie’s eyes widened with recognition. “Ah, the guy who shot and missed. I figured that would’ve happened later.”

“No. Second day,” Joel explained.

“Well, I’ve gotta hand it to the Army people,” Ellie sighed. “They were way better at stitchin’ you up than Piper was.” She peered at her sister, hoping her teasing comment would help distract Piper. It didn’t. 

“It was me,” Joel admitted. “I was the guy who shot and missed.”

Piper gulped. “Oh…” She breathed. All thoughts of her pain were replaced with concern for Joel. 

“There’s no story.” Joel began. He hated telling this story. He was at his lowest. His weakest. He had lost everything. “Sarah died… and I couldn’t see the point anymore. Simple as that. And I wasn’t scared either. I was ready. I couldn’t have been more ready. When I… When I… went to pull the trigger, I-I flinched. Still don’t know why.” 

Piper fiddled with her fingers, tracing the scars along her palms. She’d been there. Piper would have done it, and she wouldn’t have missed. In her mind, she saw the mall, the infected, and Ellie and Riley. Unconsciously, Piper trailed up to the scar of her bite mark. The mark was a perfect match to her teeth. She could still hear Riley and Ellie’s begs–asking her to kill them. 

“Anyway, the reason I’m telling you all this…” Joel trailed off, looking at Piper’s, whose knuckles had turned white. 

“I know why you’re tellin’ me all this,” Ellie interjected. 

Joel turned to her. “Yeah, I reckon you do,” he smiled. 

“So time heals all wounds, I guess.” Ellie jokingly rolled her eyes at the cliche. 

“It’ll be fucking years then…” Piper mumbled, making Joel’s heart shatter. 

“It wasn’t time that did it.” It was said so softly, but even through their trauma-induced daze, the girls heard it. 

“Oh…” Piper softly said. A faint smile ghosted her lips. 

“Well, I’m glad that… that didn’t work out,” Ellie muttered. 

“Me, too,” Joel admitted. 

Suddenly, he felt a gentle weight on his side. Joel’s eyes trailed over to Piper, who leaned against him. She avoided his gaze, but the gentle pressure said more than anything she could muster. Like a domino effect, he felt Ellie rest her head on the other side. There, they sat in silence, embracing each other’s comfort. 

Just as fast as their moment started, it ended. 

“We should probably get going,” Joel sighed, pushing himself up. 

“Yeah,” the girl half-heartedly agreed. 

“You know what I’m in the mood for?” Joel announced. 

“What?” Ellie asked.

Joel smirked and peered down at her. “Shitty puns.”

A groan erupted from Piper’s mouth. “God no, Joel, why’d you have to-? “

“Oh-ho-ho.” Ellie chuckled, already flipping through the pages of the book. “People are making apocalypse jokes like there’s no tomorrow.” Joel winced. “Too soon?”

“No, it’s topical.”

Ellie giggled. “Oh, I love this one.”

“Moon rocks taste better than Earth rocks. Why?” She paused, wiggling her brows at Joel and Piper. “Cause they’re meteor.”

“Oh, that’s terrible,” Joel exclaimed.

“Fuck you,” Ellie scoffed. “That was actually good.”

“That’s a… That…,” Joel waved his hands in search of words. “That’s a zero outta 10.”

“All right, all right.” Ellie read a new joke. “What did the green grape say to the purple grape? Breathe, you idiot.”

“That was a three outta 10.”

Ellie shook her head. “Seven, minimum.” 

“Uh-uh.” Ellie disagreed.

“I’m sticking with the three,” Piper added from behind the group. 

“I’ll give it a five,” Joel settled.

“Five outta 10. Five?” Ellie dramatically gasped. 

CLANG!

The trio whirled around. In between Ellie, Joel, and Piper sat a small flash bomb. Joel grabbed onto Ellie’s shoulder, pulling her close. Piper ducked and covered her ears. 

As Piper’s head hit the ground, she couldn’t hear anything. She knew she was calling out for Joel and Ellie. It looked like they were saying her name if she squinted hard enough. Her head hurt, and it felt wet. She groaned and fell to her side. Two foggy figures loomed overhead. And then it was black.

꧁_____________꧂

“Is her head okay?” A faint voice tickled Piper’s senses. 

Someone was touching her. Piper’s hand clasped around the person. Her eyes whirled open, and then she pounced. She fought until the poor woman lay on the ground. The teen could see the terror oozing from the woman, her hands raised. 

“Piper?” A familiar voice commanded. “Piper! Let her go.” Piper tore her gaze off the trembling woman and onto Marlene.

“Marlene?” Realizing she still sat over the woman, Piper pushed herself off. She sent a silent apology, collecting herself. One thing was for sure. Everything hurt, more so than usual. “What happened?” She croaked, rubbing her aching head. Her hand felt sticky. It was covered in a clear ointment mixed with blood. Her blood. 

Marlene dismissed the woman, who quickly left the room. “Patrol didn’t know you were coming. You got the worst of it.” The woman pointed to Piper’s head injury.

“Yeah,” Piper scoffed. “I could tell. Where’s Ellie and Joel?” 

There was a pause before Marlene answered her. “Ellie’s fine. Been asking about you. Joel’s still unconscious.”

Ellie. The Fireflies. If they were here at the hospital, then… “Can I see Ellie?”

“Piper,” Marlene’s gaze grew avoidant. “All you need to know is that she’s safe.”

It was a bullshit answer. An answer Piper wouldn’t take. “Marlene, where’s my sister?” 

Marlene sighed with a look that made Piper fear the answer. “She’s being prepped for surgery…” Piper shuddered, and a gasp left her mouth. She couldn’t look at Marlene. She couldn’t look anywhere. Piper couldn’t do anything as sobs choked their way out. 

“You know.” Marlene stood straighter and marched over to Piper. Her eyes glared down at Piper. “Did Ellie-?”

“No,” Piper sniffled. “I…I couldn’t tell her. Not when I had- can I say goodbye?” Marlene shook her head. “Fuck…” Piper whimpered. Tears stung her skin as they trickled from her eyes down her cheeks. 

“Piper, I’m sorry-” Marlene tried to comfort her. 

“What about Joel?” Piper yelled. She stared up at Marlene. The pools in her eyes reflected the woman’s stern expression. “Can I say goodbye? Please, Marlene. Please.” Marlene didn’t answer her. Piper had to see Joel, she had to–“I’m saving the fucking world, and you won’t let me say goodbye?!”

Marlene took in a deep and steady breath that seemed to last hours. She raised her finger, and in came a Firefly soldier. “Grab her some paper and a pen.” The materials magically appeared. Marlene threw them into Piper’s hands. “Here, you’ll write your goodbye.”

Piper hurriedly placed the papers down and uncapped the pen. “Does Joel know?” She asked. 

“Know what?” Marlene’s voice came out harsher than Piper had ever heard it. 

“That you’re killing us for the cure.”

There was a deafening silence before Marlene answered. “No.”

“Are you gonna tell him?” Piper asked, tearing her attention away from the letter. 

“Just hurry up and write that goodbye,” Marlene hissed. 

Piper didn’t need another warning and scrambled to scribble on the papers. Her hands shook so much that Piper worried her last words would be illegible. She inhaled. She exhaled. She calmed herself, but only as much as could be expected from someone about to die. As she wrote, her vision grew sloppier. It was hard to see even with her blind eye. Still, she pushed through. With a trembling hand, she signed the letter. When Marlene snatched it out of her hands, a strangled sob scrambled out. 

“Promise me he’ll get it,” Piper begged. “Promise me, Marlene.”

Marlene folded the letter and shoved it into her pocket. “Finish bandaging her up and get her prepped,” she instructed her fireflies. Then, turning on her heel, Marlene stepped out the door. 

Behind her, Piper yelled. “Marlene, please! Please promise me. Please!” 

꧁_____________꧂

“Welcome to the Fireflies” was the first thing Joel heard once his consciousness returned. Groggy, he pushed himself up to sit opposite Marlene. 

“Easy.” Marlene gently spoke. “Ya got hit pretty hard. Patrol didn’t know who you were.”

Joel’s eyes scanned the room. Something was missing. Someone. His girls. “Where’s the girls?”

“Ellie wasn’t hurt,” Marlene began. Her answer relieved Joel, but it was not what he needed to hear. “Not even a scratch. Piper got the short end of the stick. My people are fixing her up now. They’re mostly worried about you.”

“Where are they?” He gruffly asked. His eyes stared down into Marlene’s, who remained calm. 

“We lost half our crew crossing the country.” Joel frowned. She didn’t answer him. Why? She refused to answer him. “I had five men whose only job was to protect me. And I still almost got killed. How’d you do it?”

“It was all them,” Joel admitted. “Ellie and Piper fought like hell to get here.”

Marlene shook her head in disbelief. “They would’ve been dead on day one.” Sighing, she leaned back into her chair and crossed her arms. “You are the one person I never wanted to be in debt to. But I owe you. We all owe you.”

“Just take me to them,” Joel pleaded. His voice was soft, and in a tone Marlene had never heard from the man. 

“I can’t.” Joel’s face contorted, and his jaw clenched. “Ellie’s being prepped for surgery. Piper soon after.”

“What surgery?” Joel questioned Marlene so slowly it sounded like a growl. 

“Our doctor…,” Marlene explained, “he thinks that the Cordyceps in the girls have grown with them since birth.”

His teeth started to grind against the others. His tanned knuckles grew paler by the second. “Why is Ellie in surgery?”

“It produces a kind of chemical messenger. It makes normal Cordyceps think that she’s Cordyceps. It’s why she’s immune. He’s gonna remove it from her, multiply the cells in a lab, produce those chemical messengers… and then we can give it to everyone. He thinks it could be a cure, Joel.”

“A cure,” Joel scoffed. Then he froze. 

No. No. No. No. No!

“Cordyceps grow inside the brain,” Joel stated. 

Marlene gulped before confirming Joel’s fears. “It does.”

“Find someone else,” Joel gasped. 

“There is no one else.” Marlene stood up and held out her hand to Joel. In it were wrinkled papers. He could see dark ink seeping through the thin sheets. “Here, this is for you.” 

He snatched them from her hand and flicked them open. His hands gently straightened out any faults caused by Marlene’s mishandling. His breath shuddered, and his body trembled as he began to read. 

To Joel:

I’m not really sure when and if you get this, but God, I hope you do. Marlene wouldn’t let me see you; she said you were out. She wouldn’t let me see Ellie either, and I’d rather get out one goodbye than never have said anything at all. 

When we started this journey, we were just cargo, and you were our carrier. That’s how it was supposed to be. Then you did something I never thought would happen. You made me trust you. You made me feel safe. You made me feel at home, even when it was the last thing I ever wanted to feel. You reminded me how to live and not just survive. 

God…I…there’s so much I want to say, but I can’t. Marlene’s getting impatient. Ellie’s going into surgery, and then I’m next. You came into this thinking we’d walk out, but we won’t. And it’s okay. It’ll be okay, Joel. Maybe now I can save someone. Maybe with me dying, I don’t have to kill anymore. 

I just want you to know that when I go, I’m gonna dream of that farm. I’m gonna dream of Ellie and her puns, you playing guitar and yelling at some stupid sheep. Cause that’s my dream. A home with my family. A home with my sister and my dad. 

Goodbye Joel Dad

- Piper Williams 

With as much care as he could muster, Joel folded the letter and placed it in his breast pocket over his heart. A large tear fell to the floor, and Joel stifled a sob. 

Marlene took Joel’s silence as a cue to speak again. “We didn’t tell Ellie. We didn’t cause her any fear; there won’t be any pain. Piper-she knows.”

Joel’s head started shaking. A physical sign of his rejection. He couldn’t let them do this. He wouldn’t lose his girls. Not when he’d just- “No. No, you take me to them. You take me to Ellie and Piper right now!” He stood up, all anger and fury, and lunged for Marlene. Joel was fast, but her men were faster. With a swift kick of the knee, Joel toppled to the floor. 

“Please...” Joel cried. You don’t understand.” He kneeled in front of Marlene as if to pray. He needed the girls; he loved them. They were his redemption. “Please.” 

“I do. I was there when she was born, Joel.” Marlene glared down at Joel. “I promised her mother that I would save her children. I promised. So I do understand. I’m the only one who understands. I’m sorry. I have no other choice.”

But he did. Joel had a– “I do,” he growled. 

“Walk him out to the highway,” Marlene commanded. “Leave him there with his pack. Give him this.” Joel saw the glimmer of Ellie’s switchblade. His baby girl. “He tries anything… shoot him.”

The Fireflies nodded and nudged Joel off the floor with their guns. Joel scowled as Marlene watched him be escorted away. Each step farther away from the room, from his girls, was agony. In the dimly lit hospital hallway, Joel plotted. He was Joel fucking Miller, and he was going to get his girls back. The lights flickered, and Joel saw it. It was a sign reading “pediatric surgery: 6th floor.” The sixth floor. That’s where his girls would be. 

“I didn’t hear anyone say, “Stop.” One of the Firefly men shoved Joel along. 

“Which way?” Joel mumbled. 

“Down the stairs.” They pushed Joel along. 

As Joel stumbled down the staircase, he found his feet frozen. He refused to move any farther. 

“The fuck are you doin’? Keep walking!”  Joel stayed still. He waited. Marlene had only sent two men to escort him out—a mistake. Marlene should have known it would have taken much more to keep Joel away. “I said keep walk–”

Joel brought the heel of his palm into one of the men’s noses. CRACK! Blood poured out of the broken nose. The firefly tumbled to the floor, clutching his injury. Joel saw his chance and grabbed the gun. He cocked it and fired. The second man died. Shot right in the head. 

“Where is she?!” Joel demanded, holding the gun to the surviving Firefly's head. 

Through all the blood, the man looked up at Joel. “Fuck you.”

“I don’t have time for this.”

BANG! The Firefly fell limp. His radio blared to life. 

“Shots fired. Shots fired!” 

Joel frowned. They’d all be coming for him now, but he didn’t care. He had to save his girls. Marching up the stairs, Joel began his prowl. Expertly, his gun aimed and fired. The soldiers dropped like flies in the path of Joel’s protective fury. 

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

The sound of the gun followed Joel wherever he stalked along the halls of the hospital. Some of the people he came across fought. But like a bear in pursuit of protecting its cubs, they didn’t stand a chance. There was no such thing as mercy for Joel when these very people were out to kill his girls. He was swiftly making his way through the hospital–a trail of bodies in tow. 

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

And then silence. His breath stilled as the sign for pediatric surgery came into view. He scoured each room for any sign of his girls. But he found none. Still, Joel trekked. A faint light seeped from beneath a pair of doors up ahead. Quiet beeping sounds echoed louder than the shots from before. 

“Do we have enough power?” Someone asked. 

Joel pushed the door open with the butt of his gun. 

“She’s ready,” a nurse said. Her hands hovered over Ellie. 

The young teen’s hair lay long and brushed. All the grim from before had been washed from her body. She looked clean and peaceful as she lay on the surgery table. 

“Unhook her,” Joel uttered. The nurses gasped at the sight of the gun, immediately raising their hands. 

The surgeon, however, seethed with anger. In his hand, he held a scalpel. The blade glinted over Ellie’s scalp. “How did you get in here?” 

Joel carefully watched the blade. “I said unhook her.”

No one except the surgeon made a move. The surgeon surged forward and stood between Ellie and Joel. In his hand, he defensively held the scalpel. “I won’t let you take her.”

BANG!

The surgeon dropped dead. Nurses screamed and cowered. 

“Unhook her!” Joel yelled. “Move!” 

Quickly, the nurses unhooked Ellie. Silently, they prayed to a god, to anyone to have mercy. The beeping monitor went silent. Blood trickled down Ellie’s arm from where the IV was placed. 

“Cover her arm,” Joel commanded. “Fast.”

Within the blink of an eye, one of the nurses had covered the wound. 

“Turn around.” Joel watched as the women quickly turned away. Just as fast, Joel lifted Ellie off of the table. She was cold but breathing. Her head flopped against Joel’s shoulder, and he worried. If Ellie was in this state, what about Piper? He didn’t have the arms and the strength to carry both girls out of the hospital. Joel held Ellie tighter. He’d have to do something he never wanted to do. Joel would have to get Ellie safe and then find Piper. He just prayed she’d be fine until he could rescue her. 

Elevator doors closed in front of Joel. His arms ached from the unconscious weight of Ellie. He sighed, and Ellie snuggled closer to him. Soon, the silver doors slid open. Joel stepped out into the hospital’s parking garage. If the Fireflies had power, then they’d have cars. Working ones. The low rumble of a car engine drew Joel’s attention. He shuffled over to the vehicle.

CLICK!

“You can’t keep her safe forever,” Marlene taunted. Joel turned around. There stood Marlene with a gun. But it wasn’t pointed at Joel. No. It was pointed at Piper. 

“Joel,” Piper sobbed in Marlene’s clutch. Relief flooded her body at the sight of Joel holding Ellie. She was alive. Her sister was alive. 

“Piper…” Joel met her dark eyes. “Let her go.” He demanded. 

Marlene shook her head. “No. I won’t let you take them, Joel.” Her hand pushed the barrel of the gun deeper into Piper’s head. The girl groaned from the pain. 

“Let her go!” Joel yelled. 

“Joel!” Piper gasped. “Take Ellie. Take her and let them have me. Save Ellie. Save her.”

Shaking his head, Joel fought back tears. No, he had made it this far. He was going to save them both. He had to save them. “No, Piper. No. I’m gettin’ you both out of here.”

“No matter how hard you try, no matter how many people you kill, they’re gonna grow up, Joel,” Marlene scoffed. “And then you’ll die. They’ll leave. Then what?” Marlene cocked her head. “How long till they’re torn apart by Infected or murdered by raiders?” Piper whimpered under Marlene’s grip. Her grasp tightened around the teen’s neck, making it hard to breathe. “Because they live in a broken world that you could have saved.”

“Maybe,” Joel agreed. “But it isn’t for you to decide.”

“Or you,” Marlene scolded.  “So what would she decide, huh? ‘Cause I think Ellie’d wanna do what’s right. And you know it. It’s not too late. Even now…even after what you’ve done. We can still find a way.”

Joel gazed down at sleeping Ellie and then at Piper. They were his world. Maybe he wouldn’t be saving the world by taking them, but he’d be protecting his. It was selfish. He knew, but Joel deserved to be selfish, and so selfish he chose to be. 

“Piper…” Joel muttered. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” Piper whimpered. 

BANG!

The world thrashed around Piper as the tight hold on her loosened. Marlene groaned. Her body was on the floor as blood flooded from her. 

“Joel!” Piper screamed, running to him. Her feet tripped over her hospital gown as she ran. “Joel!” She collapsed at his side, clutching his shoulders. Sobs ransacked her body. Joel leaned his head against hers. It was the best he could offer with his hands full of Ellie. 

“I got you,” Joel whispered. “I’ve got you, sweet girl.” 

A guttural cough cut through their reunion. Joel’s softened face grew dark as his sight landed on Marlene. It was a pitiful scene. The woman’s hands clawed at the floor over to the discarded weapon. A trail of her blood trickled after her. 

“Piper,” Joel calmly said. “Take your sister and put her in the car.” He passed Ellie’s body into Piper’s arms. Momentarily, she buckled under the weight. Regaining herself, Piper limped over to the vehicle. She braced Ellie against the doors before lifting her to lie in the back seat. 

Behind, Joel stalked after Marlene. 

“No, wait.” Marlene raised her hand. “Wait, wait, wait.” Joel peered down at her. “Please,” she begged. Her breaths had become pants as her body pumped more and more blood onto the concrete. “Let me go.”

“You’d just come after them.” Joel cocked his gun and aimed. “You’d come after my girls.”

꧁_____________꧂

They had left the city far behind. Now, the tall buildings were specks of dust in the wind. Piper sat with her head against the passenger window. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to feel. One thing was for sure: Piper didn’t feel numb. After she danced with death in the smoke of the room, she was almost butchered in; Piper found it hard to feel anything but pain. A part of her only wanted to feel pain. It made everything easier: the guilt of failing Ellie, the guilt of leaving Joel in that basement, the guilt of– Piper hissed. Her nails had dug into the skin around the scar on her thigh. Damn, these hospital gowns for being so thin. 

“You okay?” Joel asked, peering over at her. 

Piper removed her hand and shrugged. “I’m…” fine. It was the easiest thing to say. She’d said it before, and Joel didn't push. But was it what she wanted to say? “No.” Joel stayed quiet. She was thankful for it. As long as she continued to look out the window, maybe she could trick herself into thinking she wasn’t telling anyone these dark thoughts–that she wasn’t telling anyone the truth. “I don’t think I’ve ever been okay. Ever.” 

Getting into a more comfortable position, Piper continued. “I was twelve when I first…when I first killed someone. I thought I could trust him, that he’d keep me safe, keep us safe.” Joel peeked at Ellie through the rearview mirror. “But his safety came with a price. One I couldn’t pay, so I–”

“Piper,” Joel interjected. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“But I do, Joel. I need to. Please?” Joel nodded and remained silent. “I killed him, and then FEDRA decided that if I could kill a man in self-defense, I could kill for them. So I did. That’s all I did for five years.” She stifled a sob. “I couldn’t–mess up, get sick, nothing, or else they’d leave Ellie all alone. It was my punishment. Then, one night, we ended up in the clutches of the Fireflies. They kept us chained in a room until you came along. Next thing I knew, Ellie and I were special cargo to be taken across the country.” 

Piper sniffled and then chuckled. “You know when I first met you, I hated you.” She laughed again. “Funny how we ended up here, huh?” Joel gazed over at Piper. Her laughter died down, returning to sniffles. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah,” Joel replied. 

“When you said,” Piper hesitated, “you weren’t afraid of death, that you welcomed it, what did you–what did it feel like?”

Joel sighed. “It felt…easy. Every day after Sarah’s death was filled with pain. It still hasn’t gone away,” Joel turned to give Piper a comforting smile. “But it has stopped hurting.” 

Piper nodded, taking in Joel’s words. “When I was trapped in that building, knowing I failed Ellie, that I’d failed you-” Joel desperately wanted to tell her she hadn’t failed. She had survived. They all had. “I wanted to give up. It was easy just to lay down and breathe in the smoke till I–” She looked down at her hands. “But, I didn’t…and some part of me still wishes I did. That’s why I didn’t tell you or Ellie. It was easy to keep quiet and march like a lamb to slaughter. I wouldn’t be in pain anymore. I wouldn’t have to feel all this guilt and hate. I wouldn’t have to be a killer. I wouldn’t have to be Piper.” 

A warm hand encased Piper’s shoulder. Joel’s fingers rubbed up and down in a soothing manner. “Even if some part of me wanted the easy way out, the others didn’t. I-” Piper took in a shaky breath. “Thank you, Joel. For saving me. For saving Ellie.”

Joel knew that no simple “you’re welcome” would suffice. Instead, he wrapped his arm around Piper and pulled her to his side. “Always,” he whispered. “Always.” 

Pulling back, Piper wiped tears and snot away from her face. “Joel?” Her quiet voice questioned. 

“Hmm?” He hummed. 

“What are you gonna tell Ellie?”

Joel sighed. His hand holding the wheel tightened. “I don’t know, kid. I don’t know.” 

As if on cue, Ellie groaned. Her body shifted on the back seat. Piper grew quiet and leaned back up against the window. 

“What?” Ellie mumbled. 

“It’s all right,” Joel cooed. “You’re with me.” Ellie pushed herself up but immediately toppled back down. “Take it slow. The drugs are still wearin’ off.”

“I was with the Fireflies, and then…,” Ellie groggily furrowed her brows. “What drugs?”

“They were runnin’ some tests on you…” Joel trailed off, finding his next words. “And some others. Turns out there’s a whole lot more like you… people that are immune. Dozens of ’em. And the doctors, they couldn’t make any of it work. They’ve actually…They’ve stopped lookin’ for a cure.” Joel heard Piper hold her breath at the lie. 

“Where are my clothes?” Ellie wondered in her dazed state. 

“Raiders attacked the hospital. I barely got ya outta there. We’ll find you some new ones on the way.”

Ellie laid her head back down, snuggling into the seat. “Were people hurt?”

“Yes,” Joel solemnly said. 

“Is Marlene okay?”

Joel gulped. “I’m takin’ us home.” Ellie half-presently nodded before dozing off again.  “I’m sorry,” he whispered to the young teen. 

After Piper was sure her sister was out, she turned to Joel. “Joel?” She asked. 

“You should get some rest,” Joel brushed off her inquiry. “You’ve been through a lot.”

Piper scoffed and shook her head. “I’m not tired.”

A knowing smile crept onto Joel’s face. “That’s what they all say, kid.” Piper wasn’t having it. Sighing, Joel compromised. “Just rest your eyes. It’ll be a long drive.”

“Okay…” Piper reluctantly agreed. She sniffled one last time before closing her eyes. The constant rumbling of the car’s tires rolling against the road beneath lulled her to sleep. Her breath slowed, matching the cadence of her younger sister's slow inhales. All the while, Joel drove. Strangely enough, he found himself feeling content. His girls were safe, and they were going home. Home. 

꧁_____________꧂

“Well,” Joel’s hands slapped against his thighs as the car hood shut. Steam angrily fled into the air. “She got us close enough. We gotta walk the rest of the way.” He trotted to where the girls sat and leaned against the car's frame. “Probably about a five-hour hike… but we can manage that. Remember?”

“Yeah.” Ellie nodded. 

Piper finished rolling up the sleeves of her shirt. Joel had found both her and Ellie new clothes. The hospital gowns weren’t the chosen attire for an apocalyptic world. “Yeah,” Piper chimed. 

Joel flashed them a smile, and then they went off. Piper found herself welcoming their journey. She hated to admit that she missed trekking through nature. While driving in a car was nice, easy, and fast, it wasn’t what she was used to. Besides, Piper preferred feeling the ground beneath her own two feet. 

“You know,” Joel huffed. The hike was getting to him. “Sarah and I used to hike like this all the time. I wouldn’t say it was her favorite thing. She wasn’t a fan of the mosquitoes and such. But she was a big climber… or scampering. That’s probably the right word. That girl… she’d see a big rock and just… pew.” He chuckled as a memory of his daughter appeared in his mind. 

Piper nodded her head and playfully nudged Ellie. “Sounds like someone I know.” Ellie rolled her eyes. 

“Sounds more like you–” Ellie countered. 

“Well, you were the one who climbed up a tree and couldn’t climb down.”

“That was–”

Joel snickered at their bickering. “She woulda liked you two.” Piper and Ellie stopped arguing. “Not to say the three of you are the same.” Joel smiled as if he knew some inside joke the girls didn’t. “Definitely different kids.”

“How so?” Ellie wondered, stepping up beside Joel. Piper stood on Joel’s opposite side. Their attention was drawn to Joel. 

“Well,” He began, “she was a lot more… I wanna say girly, and I’m not sayin’ that you’re not girly.”

“I’m not,” Ellie smirked. “If anything, Piper’s more girly than me.”

Piper wasn’t sure if she should take it as a compliment or an insult. However, responding to an insult was preferably much more fun. “Hey!” She feigned offence. 

“Yeah, you’re not,” Joel agreed with Ellie. “She was taller. She had a killer smile. Again, not sayin’ that you two don’t.” Ellie smiled broadly at Piper and winked. Piper rolled her eyes but smiled back. Joel laughed. “But you know why I think she’d like you, Ellie?”

Ellie’s smile fell. “Why?”

“Cause you’re funny,” Joel stated. “I think you would’ve made her laugh. Anyway, I bet you would’ve liked her back.”

“Yeah, bet I would’ve,” Ellie muttered. 

“And for Piper,” Joel said, not forgetting the other girl. “Sarah would love to try and make you laugh. And she’d look up to you.”

Piper paused, and a soft smile appeared on her face. “Thanks, Joel. Sarah sounds nice.”

“She was.” Joel concurred. Briefly, he looked down at the cracked watch adorning his wrist. Once he glanced up, he beamed. Ahead stood the faint outline of Jackson. Home. “Not much further now.”

Joel and Piper eagerly continued down the path. Ellie did not. 

“Hey, wait.” Joel and Piper whirled around. Ellie’s eyes widened as if she didn’t expect them to respond. “Fuck,” she softly cursed. “Back in Kansas City, you asked me about the first time I killed someone.” Joel placed his hands on his hips. His ears listened as Ellie spoke. Meanwhile, Piper grew distantly quiet. 

“When I got bit in the mall, I-It wasn’t just Piper and me.” Ellie looked away. Piper could see the tell Ellie tried to conceal. “My best friend was there, and she got bit, too.” Ellie sniffled. Piper felt her own eyes grow watery. Riley. Sweet Riley. “We didn’t know what to do, and she says, “We can just wait it out… be all poetic and just lose our minds together. And then she did. And I had to…” Piper wanted to draw Ellie into a hug, but she knew her sister had more to say. The comfort could always come later. “Her name was Riley… and she was the first to die. And then it was Tess. And then Sam and Henry.” 

Joel shook his head. “That’s not on you.”

“I know, but…” Ellie tried to argue, but Joel continued. 

“Look, sometimes things don’t work out the way we hope.” Joel peered over at Piper. He wasn’t just saying this to Ellie. It was a message for both of his girls. “You can feel like… like you’ve come to an end… and you don’t know what to do next. But if you just keep goin’… you find something new to fight for. And maybe that’s not what…”

“Swear to me,” Ellie interjected. “Swear to me that everything you said about the Fireflies is true.”

Piper looked away. She had never been more interested in her feet. Joel had an expressionless face as he answered her. “I swear.” 

After a moment, Ellie spoke. “Okay.”

She had believed him. Piper let out a shaky breath and looked over at Joel. They shared a glance. Their eyes agreed to the lie. It was a necessary one. A lie that they both now concealed. 

The rest of the journey to Jackson had been uneventful. Tommy had found them close to Jackson when he was on patrol. The reunion was sweet. Joel hugged his brother before breaking away, allowing Tommy to steal hugs from the girls. They hadn’t been expecting it by how brief and tight the hugs had been, but they had been welcomed embraces. 

Maria smiled when they walked back into town. The streets had changed from the snow-covered, Christmas-decorated roads to colorful and lively bustling ones. People discarded their winter gear for lighter clothes. The summer sun and heat crept over the mountains, waiting to pounce. But for now, the air was at a pleasant temperature. As Maria showed them back to the house they had stayed in during their brief stay in Jackson, Piper spotted a familiar head of curls. Charlie. He amicably waved at her. By amicably, Charlie practically jumped where he stood, calling out her name. Piper flushed a deep shade of red and flipped him off. Joel laughed, and Ellie smirked. Her clever eyes darted between the two teens. She had something to tease her sister about. 

The sun had begun to set as Joel, Piper, and Ellie settled back into the house. Each crawled out of their rooms after a long nap. Joel was the last to emerge. Age had made his cravings for naps extremely powerful. With a yawn, he pushed open the front door. A wave of deja vu fell over him. 

There sat his girls on the porch. Ellie was teasing Piper about the boy they’d seen on the street. Piper rolled her eyes and denied everything, making it hard for Ellie to continue her interrogation. Instead, the young teen pulled out her pun book. Fingers flipped through the pages, landing on a particular joke. Piper dramatically groaned, and Joel realized he had seen this all before. 

It was the dream. Joel’s dream. Here they were, his girls safe and sound with a whole life ahead of them. Joel felt a pleasant warmth spread throughout his body. He stood and leaned against the door frame for ages, capturing this moment in his head. The girls had been his redemption–a sinner’s redemption. Now that he had his dream, Joel was content with just living it. This was why he missed that day. This was why he stayed. He, too, deserved a second chance. They all did. 

꧁_____________꧂

Thank you all again for your support. If you enjoyed this series please comment and reblog so that more people can embark on this journey with Piper, Ellie and Joel. :)

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[altocat]

While we're all waiting for the new chapter, I felt it appropriate to discuss the subject of Genesis further.

Clunky writing aside, controversies aside, it's extremely interesting to me that out of all the characters in the Compilation, Genesis is the only one who functionally meets a GOD and is granted what amounts to a full pardon. One might look at his scene with Minerva and initially view it as rejection. But it's, in fact, REDEMPTION. Redemption that neither Sephiroth nor Angeal were permitted. Minerva certainly didn't speak to them. And they were both worthy, sympathetic figures in their own right.

So why Genesis? Genesis, who has been a jerk and a hothead the entire game? Genesis, who spends years rotting away and clinging to life, who antagonizes his friends out of sheer anger and desperation?

This might be hard to imagine, but I think that for all his flaws, Genesis was always the one with the most potential. Yes, he was arrogant. And brash. He acts before he thinks, and you can see this throughout his story. But it would not be amiss to recognize that both Angeal and Sephiroth were also deeply flawed individuals who commit their own sins. Angeal abandons Sephiroth and Zack, flip flops in his motives, and ultimately forces his own apprentice to kill him. Sephiroth --well you don't need an explanation for that one.

Out of the entire trio, I think there's a reason Genesis was saved. He's the most true to himself and doesn't try to mask how he feels or what he is. Genesis endures, survives. He crawls towards what he wants or expects and he doesn't pretend to be someone else while doing so. He doesn't allow himself to be a puppet for Shinra like Sephiroth and he doesn't lie to himself under a false code like Angeal. Sure he's got his passion for Loveless, but it's what DRIVES his ego, not masks it.

Genesis is Minerva's chosen because he can earn his right to be a hero. He was as doomed as his friends and suffered his own brand of hopelessness and despair. But he has the guts to live and fight, to become a kind of hero not just for his own sake, but also in the name of his departed friends. He can be what they weren't, honor their memories by continuing, striving.

If anyone is going to save the world, it's Genesis Goddamn Rhapsodos.

[allastoredeer]

Name: Terms and Conditions Apply

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Relationship: Alastor/Vox

Characters: Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Valentino (Hazbin Hotel), Velvette (Hazbin Hotel), Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Vaggie (Hazbin Hotel), Husk (Hazbin Hotel), Rosie (Hazbin Hotel), Niffty (Hazbin Hotel), Charlie Magne | Morningstar

Additional Tags: Post-Series, As in this is set AFTER the entire series would likely end, This is after they fight the big bad, Serious Injuries, Disabled Character, Hurt Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Injured Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor Needs Therapy (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor Needs a Hug (Hazbin Hotel), Vox Being a Jerk (Hazbin Hotel), Vox is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Rape/Non-con Elements, Soul Contracts, Valentino is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Valentino & Velvette & Vox Friendship (Hazbin Hotel), Velvette is So Done (Hazbin Hotel), Velvette Being a Jerk (Hazbin Hotel), Velvette is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel). Manipulation, Hypnotism, Aphrodisiacs, The Vees are each others greatest allies and each others worst enemies, Toxic Relationships, Fucked Up Relationships, Alastor/Valentino, Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Aromantic Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), World Building, Dark Fic, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Bottom Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)

Summary:

It's been a full year since the Hazbin Hotel started its silly redemptive crusade and Pentagram City still couldn't give a flying fuck about it. That is, until after a catastrophic battle takes place on the hotel grounds that leaves the population wondering two things:

1) What exactly happened behind the force field that prevented them from witnessing the battle?

And

2) Why did the infamously anti-modern Radio Demon join the Vees a week later?

<><><><><>

My first dark fic for the Hazbin Hotel fandom. I enjoy reading dark fics as much as I enjoy writing them, and I love me some fucked up and toxic RadioStatic

If toxic and fucked up RadioStatic is your jam too, give it a looksie :3

I'm very excited to get into this fic. I've got a lot planned.

[srs-deep-dives]

Minato & Kushina: A "Deep Dive" Analysis (Section A, Part III)

Today we will conclude Section A on Minato and Kushina as each other's anchors. (Parts I and II here.)

Picking up where we left off in Gaiden, we have Kushina’s coming-to…

…and the climaxing showdown with Kurama.

(Section A) III. Minato and Kushina as unified anchors

Now it must be emphasized that, as the manga has shown all along, Minato and Kushina rival Kurama together. There is no ‘Minato fights Kurama’ or ‘Minato wins ‘with Kushina’s help,’’ as many fans have misread. The two are a duo, a uniform team; two equal halves of ONE. And ONLY against these two equal halves of one TOGETHER is Kurama overcome. That is how it is here. That is how it is the night they save the village. And that is how it is with Kurama’s redemption (the baby born of their love, half-Minato-half-Kushina, fulfilling their legacy).

To make this abundantly clear, Kishimoto filled the oneshot with notes to Kushina’s prowess. So let us consider the showdown within its proper context.

The chapter opens with Iwa’s two jinchūriki saying to an outmatched Team Jiraiya, “If you really wanna fight us you better bring Nine Tails’ jinchūriki.” Their use of Bijū Bombs tells us they would be rivaled by Kurama’s power. And it tells us Minato is no match for Son and Kokuō’s, who, put together, are weaker than Kurama by himself. Thus Minato by himself (let alone with a Sannin) cannot match two Bombs weaker than one from Kurama. “...you better bring Nine Tails’ jinchūriki.” The very opening line foreshadows Minato and Kushina fighting together.

A few pages later, Kushina meets her keepers, saying she has “sealing jutsu training with Namikaze Minato.” The next page reveals she is teaching Minato Uzumaki fūinjutsu. When Minato augments her seal in his own style, he is adding to and enhancing a jutsu he learned from Kushina. “I promise to go all out again today!” (Kushina has been giving these lessons her all and Minato has more than kept up.) “You pick up things real quick, Minato. And there are still tons of Uzumaki clan sealing jutsu WE haven’t covered yet, so...” (They have been doing this together for quite a while.)

Skipping forward (in flashback), Mito remarks that Kushina has “much more lustrous hair” (strength) than her – i.e. Kushina will surpass the woman who sealed the full Nine Tails inside of herself. This flashbacks takes place a few years ago. And we have seen a 24-year-old Kushina give birth, have Kurama extracted, subdue him while at death’s door, and offer to fully seal him back and drag him with her into death all within the same hour. At death’s door. Are we for a moment to assume she didn’t have even a portion of this power as a teenager? Why is this emphasis of Kushina surpassing Mito important? Because it is a mirror parallel: Minato has “a most powerful shinobi ranking alongside First Hokage Hashirama;” Kushina is “a strong child” with “much more lustrous hair than [First Hokage Hashirama’s wife Uzumaki Mito].”

While Minato is creating the Rasengan, Kushina with implied ease binds her ANBU guards (two of the top jōnin in the village) with both unable to break free. One thinks to himself how her binding power is getting stronger with age – implying that it may not be the first time she has done this.

The jutsu common to dying-Kushina, the ANBU-binding, and the present fight against Kurama is her Adamantine Sealing Chains. What do these Chains seal? Chakra. What is Nine Tails? A breathing mass of chakra. Where is she currently sealing him? Inside the seal binding him inside her. He is not at his full fighting capacity.

So we are inside Kushina’s seal by which Kurama is already bound. He has struck and stabbed Minato (we’ll get to Minato’s nerfing in a moment) and is wrestling Kushina for control – i.e. Minato and Kushina are also not at their full fighting capacity. Kurama is forming a Bijū Bomb in his (breaking) binds while Kushina is further binding him with her Chains. Our weakened Minato uses Rasengan against Kurama’s weakened Bijū Bomb and manages to match it enough to fix Kushina’s seal in a double knockout.

Minato is seriously underrated. But let us not forget: so is Kushina. And it is their combined, two-halves-as-one power that defeats Kurama. Just like their final fight which saves Konoha.

Now onto Minato’s nerfing. Kushina is knocked down and he is stabbed in her seven-tailed bijūfication. Kushina screams for him to leave her and save himself, but he refuses. If this isn’t a display of utter, unwavering devotion I don’t know what is. With a literal hole through his stomach, Minato tells her that he will never leave her.

But let us backtrack even further. First, Minato has been training all day. Since he returned from the battlefield. Creating his A-rank jutsu. The training grounds are covered in craters he made, and he promised Jiraiya he would rest. This is no run-of-the-mill practice session. He is exhausted. (Similar, to note, as he is the night of Naruto’s birth. He – excruciatingly – keeps Kushina’s seal together throughout her entire labor.)

Second, the wound Minato has already received – from chakra tail one – was no run-of-the-mill slap. Recall a parallel when Naruto bijūfies and Sakura, trying to call him back, takes a similar hit. It effectively poisons her; Kurama’s chakra seeping through her wound and numbing her body. Even after she heals herself with medical ninjutsu and is later healing Naruto.

Sakura was struck by a manifesting half-Kurama. But Kushina, unlike her son, had the full Kurama inside her. Take the damage that Sakura – the Hokage’s apprentice and a medic-nin more adept than anyone in the whole Sand Village – took, and double it. That is Minato’s blow.

Poisoned (essentially) and stabbed (foreshadowing his future death), our man is facing losing odds. On top of having worked on his jutsu all day, expending a considerable amount of chakra. Yet in his endurance FOR Kushina (inspired BY Kushina's endurance as we noted last post) he realizes a way through. What a man. And thus, we have the climaxing resolution of the vessel motif: Kurama proclaims Kushina as his “pillar” – that, in effect, he has filled her vessel. Minato, sensing his own love inside her, tells him that he is wrong.

Here we play into the ninshū lore of people sharing chakra and emotions. We’ve seen it with the Sage bestowing ninjutsu. We’ve seen it with Naruto and the Allied Shinobi. Here at last, Kushina realizes her vessel full, and Minato, feeling those feelings, projects himself into the seal. This can also be viewed in terms of being a seal itself. Kurama is literally sealed, permanently, within Kushina. The exact same can be said for Minato’s love. Note his language, present tense: “I exist inside Kushina at all times!!”

Finally, persisting in their love and endurance, they muster the mental and physical power to together defeat Kurama.

This parallels Naruto’s overcoming – again right to the angle – where Kushina also uses her Chains and Naruto his father's jutsu. Put together thus, this moment in Gaiden foreshadows Kurama’s defeat – where his arc will shift from vengeful monster to redeemed friend of Konoha. Moreover, it foreshadows the climax of Minato and Kushina’s arcs: their legacy as fulfilled in Naruto, for both Naruto and the village.

So in summary so far, Kushina is Minato’s anchor and Minato is Kushina’s. Each sees the other as the stronger one, while simultaneously strengthening the other. They change each other for the better, and endure, embodying what ‘Hokage’ stands for. Which brings us now to our next section concerning the wider narrative: their dream of Hokage.

Section B, Part I here.

[everlastingdreams]

The Weeping Monk x Reader : Born In The Dawn Chapter 41

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Story Summary: Locked inside a dark room in a dungeon, kept alive only for your power, you believed you’d never see the daylight again. That is until the Weeping Monk finds his way down and steals you from your captors. It is the beginning of a journey that leads you through hardship and newfound hope, but nothing is assured in a world that is changing for the Fey. The magic that runs in your veins is drawing out the worst the world has to offer, does it include the man who pulled you from the dark?

Chapter Title: In Saecula Saeculorum

Notes: Contains spice. 🌶️ I can't believe it's the last chapter. 😭

Warnings: Grief. Violence. Torture. Sexual Assault. Rape Threat. Gore. Enemies To Lovers. Pining. Trauma. Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Gore?. Misogyny. PTSD. 🌶️!!!Spicy and smut parts!!!!🌶️. Slight redemption arc.

Special warnings: Scent-Kink. Foreplay. Unprotected sex. Consensual. Strong language.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn…

Word count of this fic: +220K

Chapter:  41/41

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Perhaps it was silly, but you lighted every single candle that was in your bedchamber, the small flames were barely enough to see the room and it’s furniture. You took the figurine from the pocket of your vest and placed it next to the doll on your bedside table. Then you fished the nightgown from under the sheets where it was left that morning, it’s thin fabric would not offer much protection from the cold but a solution would be entering the room soon.

Your clothes were discarded into the wardrobe, the nightgown slipped on so easily and it flowed around your curves freely. In the back of your mind, you kept thinking of what you had agreed to. Never did you think you would ever wed, the idea was almost ludicrous. But now… now it felt so natural, so right to take the step. You were fidgeting with your fingers when the knock on the door came, your heart picked up it’s pace and for just one small moment your confidence wavered. You tried to beat that feeling down before it could grow stronger, it was just nervousness because everything was still so new.

You went to the door, slowly opening it, and ignoring how shaky your legs were. You peaked through the gap and saw those weeping eyes stare back at you.

“Hello…” There was not a chance that your smile didn’t give away your nervous state to him. He tilted his head a little to the side, eyes inquiring.

You swallowed hard and opened the door further, letting him in. He placed the promised bucket of warm water near the bed. The only thing that betrayed his own spiking nerves was his hand clasping and unclasping at his side a few times. Your eyes were drawn to it, to the shape of his hand and the form of his fingers, the strength with which it had often held you. When your gaze lifted, you found his own studying the way you were undoubtedly staring at him, a hint of a smile formed on his lips.

His eyes narrowed, smile growing, a teasing statement, “You appear nervous.”

Your chest felt full of air but none of it would release to let the wit out, a shrug of the shoulders would have to suffice. The Ash Man’s gaze lowered from your face, brow slightly arching as he took in the sight of you.

“Maybe I am.” It was unfair how much your voice was fighting your will to keep it steady.

He had definitely heard that tremor in your voice, he forced his attention on something else, the doll sitting beside the figurine on the bedside table was his chosen target. Lancelot picked it up again, the faint smile disarming as he looked down at it.

“Are you here to play with my doll again?” You jested.

“Not with your doll, no.” He flashed a grin.

Your mouth fell agape, an incredulous look send his way, “I beg your pardon?”

He grew a lopsided grin, to timid to face you after that bold statement. You walked further into the room, stopping a little away from him at the foot of the bed. He placed the doll down again, then took in your appearance once more, his gaze grew undeniably hungrier.

He took off his cloak and draped it over the foot of the bed, then stopped right in front of your nose. His hungry eyes flowed over your form, even as he circled around slowly and stopped behind you. He pulled you closer by the hips, his palm skimmed across your abdomen.

“I love how you look in this.” His mouth moved against the skin the nightgown left uncovered at your shoulder.

You felt the fabric move against your leg and realized he was bundling a side of the nightgown up. Soon your thigh felt the chill in the room. He kissed the back of your head, you felt the heat of his quick breaths on the nape of your neck. His fingertips grazed over your bare thigh and your breath hitched.

“Do you know,” He said softly, “how much I wanted to have you among those books back there?”

He left you to think of that whilst he kissed your shoulder.

Back in the library, he was astonished by his own self-control. It had crossed his mind more than once to put you on that table, instead of the book, and read every inch of your skin with his eyes, his mouth, his hands…

But the risk to be disturbed was far too great and only the heavens knew if you would even have agreed to it. Never did he think it would be like this, to have such improper thoughts that were so difficult to contain in the back of his mind. Never did he believe to be the sort of man to even consider such actions. You had awoken something that had been kept buried inside, and whenever you were near it rose to the surface and clouded his mind into an irresistible haze.

You bit your lip and leaned into him a little. “You have been very patient tonight.”

He hummed, hearing the playfulness in your tone, and made you turn to face him, “And you? Have you been thinking of this moment?”

Your nod in response came comically quick. Tentatively, his fingers skimmed over the fabric of the nightgown, until they began their work to undo the small knot at the neck that kept it secured.

“As lovely as you look in this, I will have to take it off of you.” He nodded to the bucket of water.

You gulped at the huskiness in his voice. He sought your eyes while slipping his fingers under the shoulders of the nightgown, the fabric slipped down your arms and bared you upper body. He helped it fall to the ground completely after it had stopped at your hips. The cold chill ran over your skin until his warm hands came to brush along the length of them.

“Alright?” He asked when seeing the slight shiver.

His arms wrapped you in his embrace, his body shielded you from the cold in the room. You hadn’t noticed until now how hot he felt, warmth was radiating from him.

As he warmed you up, he asked, “Must I ask Helio’s permission for our joining?”

He didn’t sound opposed to the idea.

“You didn’t ask permission for anything else.” You deadpanned with a grin.

“I prefer to not make you a widow so early.” He jested back, a pinch of genuine concern.

You leaned back and pecked his lips. “I will wed you, even without his permission. But it would be nice to have it.”

He shared the opinion, his gaze fell to your bare front. “I will prove to him how good I will be to you. I swear it.”

His hand moved from your waist and slithered it’s way higher to cup a breast, his head tilted to kiss your throat. “I will show to you tonight how good I’ll be.”

You suppressed a giggle when he began to nip at your throat, and neck, rather playful. “Promises, promises…”

“I always keep my word.” He breathed.

That wasn’t quite true. “You are literally breaking the vow you took while saying this.”

He was smiling against your neck. “I always keep my word to you.”

Your soft laugh filled the room. “You’d better. I want my husband to be truthful.”

He leaned back to see your face. “I want my wife to be content.”

With one step back, he broke away and saw how you moved your arms to cover yourself. It was mostly because of the cold chill that hanged in the room that you were still adjusting too.

“Fear not. I made certain the water I brought is warm.” He consoled, while undoing the belts of his jerkin.

The sight of him undressing helped warm you up rather quickly. He took the leather off, and then the shirt, placing them both near his cloak and making matters more fair. He came closer again, you met him halfway.

You weren’t going to let some cold air ruin the plans you had made. You noticed a small birthmark on his neck that you hadn’t before, and touched your fingertips to it. He studied your actions for a moment, chest rising and falling quicker, then he took hold of your hand to lead you closer to the bucket with him.

“Do you still want this?” He asked, eyes locking on yours.

You were trembling, this time with anticipation. “As much as you do.”

A spark went through his eyes, that boyish smile tugged at his lips. His breathing was uneven, as if he hoped to get just enough air to keep his lungs working. He swallowed the dryness in his throat away and reached into the bucket to grab the rag. Suddenly the wet rag was above your head and he squeezed, the water dripped down heavily onto your hair and made you flinch.

“You rotten knave!” You cursed, and tried to cover your eyes against the water. Another spark flashed through his eyes, the smack to his arm did not discourage him in the slightest.

Now that the excess water was out of the rag, he started. It was surprising to see how he took the task seriously. He began at your face, went carefully around and over your lips, making his way down your neck. That rag moved over your skin with precision and eye to detail. You felt like a book being read, letter by letter. By the time the rag was at your chest, you wanted to take it from him and discard it, too eager to grab him close.

Still, you stood very still. Even as the rag tickled down your sides, to your hipbone. He sank to his knees, moving the rag over your thighs, slowly the warm rag slipped between them and your hand flew to his shoulder for support at the contact. He was ever so patient and gentle, letting the warmth of the rag tease a little. His lips touched your abdomen lovingly brief. He rinsed the rag in the bucket and continued down to your calves, careful at the scar of the wolf’s bite. His mouth brushed over your thigh, and he gingerly held your leg.

The scent of you like this made desire hit like a kick to his stomach.

He was on his feet again, took the linen towel and began to dry your skin. For him, it was easily the perfect excuse to touch you. Then it was wrapped around your shoulders, the fabric hugging you, as well as him. The warmth of his chest heated up your back, the hotness of his breath took away the chill on your neck.

You reached behind, to cup the side of his neck while he nipped at yours. His firm grip turned you by the hips, you leaned in to kiss the small scar that sat on his chest, your hands greedily skimmed over his abdomen. Your bottom lip dragged over his skin to his collarbone, where you placed another wet kiss, not caring in the slightest if you behaved licentious. You wanted to taste him, to feel him shiver under your affections and bring him to the edge of that self-control he always had. The linen fell off your shoulders, he held you tight, touching the low of your back.

“On the… bed…” He could barely form the words through the haze he found himself in. “Get on the bed.”

It could have been an order, if it hadn’t sounded so desperate, almost pained. For a second you thought about giving a witty response, until you saw how the raw, pure, lust had overtaken the blue of his eyes. Your mouth crashed to his, tongue touching his lips. All you registered was that he had turned with you, the next second you found yourself on the bed. The chilly sheets were a great difference to the heat of his body that was already covering your own.

His knee was placed between your legs and moved so little just to create more space for himself. As his tongue searched for yours, he began to undo his trousers and soon they were discarded on the floor. Your hands didn’t know where to touch him first. His neck, his chest, the muscles of his back, you wanted to feel all of him.

His mouth slowed down as it moved across your skin, a sudden patience had taken over in him. You intended to continue what had been interrupted the previous night and reached down to palm him. He prevented your hand from getting anywhere close to his groin and pinned it down above your head.

“You will feel me soon enough.” He tsked into your ear.

You already had, his hardness had brushed against your inner thigh. His mouth moved along your collarbone, the touch of his lips increased the further down your body he went. His hand glided down the inside of your wrist and arm, and made you learn how sensitive the area truly was.

A pleasant tingling spread up your chest, to your neck, and down your shoulders. You couldn’t help the content noises and small gasps from flowing out. It only seemed to encourage him, spurring him on to flood your being with all he could give. He brought his hand down between your legs, stroking through the wetness with two fingers. He was sucking on the skin of your neck with fervor, it was a feverish mess of moans and increasingly strong need.

His hand was gripping at your hip, trying to bring you closer than you could possibly be. He was breathing hard, his thumb was circling exactly where it needed as he sank two digits inside with ease. You grasped a hold on his shoulder when he began to slide them in and out at a steady pace right away. A moan spilled out. “Oh… gods… fuck…”

He crashed his lips to yours at hearing the crude language. It still wasn’t enough to silence it when it spilled from your lips again, and the word rolled into his mouth, where it soon escaped him too. He knew then, that you couldn’t help it, and neither could he.

The knot in your core was winding itself up tightly, he was getting far too good with knowing how to work your body. It felt like such a desperate need to have all of him, but he was so focused on your sole pleasure. With the last bit of self-control you had left, you grabbed his shoulders, moving him up more. His movements halted, eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort or even protest. The first thing you did was move a knee up against his hip, another push…

He read the silent request in your eyes and made you hook your leg around him, he rolled over, and by doing so got you on top of him. The pads of your fingers pressed into his chest, slightly grasping at him as your lips dove down to litter his skin with their silent confessions of love. His hands never left you, one skimmed over your torso, the other caressed your thighs and between them again.

“Oh… f-” You swallowed the curse, for a moment it brought you close to crying at the sudden pleasure it caused rippling through your bones.

He could see you shiver, feel you try to clamp your thighs together more to try and numb what he was doing.

“Does it feel that good?” He was genuinely curious.

How good must it feel for you to be moaning like this and looking close to tears? The thought that you were as desperate for him as he was for you made his mind spin.

“Uhuh.” You barely managed a nod.

Your mind and body were fighting each other when you took his hand and stopped it from bringing you to your release. He looked up a little lost, until you palmed him, positioned and brought him inside. A strong jolt went through him, his hands flew to your hips.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t wait.” You grinned down at him devilishly.

He was upright and locked on your lips instantly, a breath, “I don’t mind.”

You cupped his face and let him steal the air from your lungs, letting him replace it with the essence of his being. The kiss was intense, consuming you of time and place itself, for a moment nothing else existed. Your hips had moved almost by their own volition, he groaned into your mouth and drew in a sharp breath through his nose. Once they had moved, they didn’t stop their calm pace. The difference in being above him, was having more control, it was surprising how willing he was to give it. It was almost as if he was less hesitant to think of his own pleasure now that you were on top and reminding him of it. His neck was already flushed down to his chest, his skin hot beneath your palms everywhere they moved over him.

He had to break away from your lips, his breathing was heavy, he began to kiss your collarbone up to your neck and down again. The cold in the room was long forgotten, heat spread through your body and caused lightheadedness. His body started to meet your movements, and you had to hold on to his shoulders at the feeling it send into you. Your fingers laced themselves into his hair, massaging his scalp while you felt him leave a wet kiss against your throat. “I love you. I love you so, so much.”

The confession caused a strong reaction. A quiet gasp escaped him, a shiver made his whole body tremble. And then your back met the sheets again, he never even broke the contact between you. He took control again, quickly putting you under him. His hips rolled into yours, chasing what was being build together. It left your breathless, your mind a cloud.

His husky voice snaked into your ear, warm breath running over your temple. “I love everything you are, my sweetheart. Now and always.”

The lovely admission was yet to be processed, when he made another of a different sort. He said it just when he thrusted, slow and deep, “I love the way you look at me when I have my cock inside of you.”

You gasped, he grinned. This time he caught your hand before it could deliver the scolding smack to his arm, and he pinned it above your head into the mattress. His pace was beginning to quicken, as he held your hand down.

It was indescribable to be at his mercy and be rendered speechless by how good he was making it feel. Your eyes fluttered shut, head lolling back, surrendering to the feeling it was building. You felt his other hand return to tease, two fingers working together, circling and stroking until he knew where they were needed to draw the moans from you.

The urge to press your legs shut was building along with the tightening knot in your core. Your hand was finally freed, thank the gods because you needed to hold on to something as the overwhelming sensation was nearing. You held on to his arms, told him to keep going how he was going because it was just what you needed. He obliged, clearly close to his own release, but by the gods he obliged.

And then the knot in your core snapped loose. Stars exploded behind your closed eyelids, cries fled their constraints, your mind lost control over your body as the sensation coursed through your veins. He thrusted deeply once more and moaned lowly as his release hit him. The tense muscles in his arms relaxed, just like the rest of his body as it entered a state of bliss.

Shaking breaths of air filled your lungs slowly, you wrapped him in your arms, his head came down to rest on your chest after he withdrew himself. Silence enveloped you, and you listened to his slowly steadying breaths and found your own start to match. It wasn’t long before his lips trailed over your collar bone, working their way up your neck to your face. He kissed your chin before locking his mouth with yours, cupping your cheek ever so gently.

His stubble tickled your jaw. “I cannot get enough of you.”

“I can tell.” You tried to keep the giggling quiet. “You’re in luck. I cannot get enough of you either.

He gazed down into your eyes, a smile that bordered on shy curving his lips. You cupped his neck and kissed him, holding him close and hearing the content sound erupt from deep within his chest.

You broke away and bit your lip. “I think I will need that bucket and rag again.”

“And my aid?” He asked.

“That sounded hopeful.” You jested, a grin formed on your face.

He tilted his head.

The idea did sound nice. “Your help is welcome.”

His eyes squinted for a second, then the offer came. “I must admit, the effort of bathing you now could be pointless again.”

“Meaning?” You dared him to say it.

He opened his mouth to answer, but then it curved into a smirk. The answer became evident when he started kissing you again, with the same passion and fervor. Bathing would indeed be pointless, because neither of you were done for the night yet.

~~~♡~~~♡~~~♧~~~♡~~~♡~~~

It was the first time when waking up into his arms came without a certain rush to avoid being exposed as a couple. And you took your time just enjoying the earlier morning, his arm around your waist and his quiet calm breathing on the back of your neck. You turned around, facing him. He was sleeping so peacefully, some stray hairs falling over his closed eyes. It was irresistible to touch his hair, his face…

It took him quite some time to wake, it happened so calmly. A smile was forming first, his eyelids still heavy from sleep opened very slightly.

“You are not sending me out the door?” He sounded so content while stating it.

Your index finger traced the mark under his right eye. “No. We do not have to hide anymore. So, I’m enjoying my morning with you.”

He lifted himself up to sit upright, and was quick to grab you. You gasped when his first action of the morning was to kiss you so fierce.

“Gods.” You scrambled out of his grasp, giggling at how his greedy hands tried to catch you again. Almost did you fall off the bed to get away.

His eyes took you in slowly, the hunger in them appeared near instant, it took far too long before they reached your face. Your cheeks burned, and you quickly grabbed your nightgown off of the floor to cover up.

“Good morning to you too.” You grabbed the cloak hanging on the foot of the bed and tossed it in his direction.

Even when just awake, his reflexes did not fail him and he caught the cloak before it could hit him. The way you looked, bare in the morning sun, a divine vision to behold.

Lancelot put the cloak aside, laughing quietly, “My trousers.”

You watched him gesture to them and look at you inquiring. You tossed them at him next, and a laugh erupt from him in response.

“You are feisty this morning.” He commented, and saw you search your wardrobe for clothes to wear.

“If you are to be my husband, you should get used to it.” You shot him a grin.

He stood up from the bed, confident and bare, to put his trousers on. Your eyes had wandered briefly and he had caught you looking. Whatever he must have seen on your face, it had certainly stroked his ego.

He smirked. “I am going to ask Helio for your hand. Unless you object?”

You winced. “He might cut off your own for it…”

He approached while you began to put your clothes on, not to help, “Will you still wed me with one hand?”

You heard the amusement in him. “Without a doubt.”

He stole the bodice to delay you getting dressed. You stole it back after a brief struggle.

“I want to tell Percival. Before he has to hear it from others.” He said.

A smart decision. “Good plan. I do find it important that he is alright with us joining.”

He hummed in agreement. It didn’t need to be said that the boy’s opinion could potentially end this betrothal.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to tell my father of our plans first?” It would not be surprising if he feared a bad response.

“He would not appreciate it if I do not show the courage to tell him.” Lancelot said.

It was perhaps correct to assume that your father would react better if he knew the Ash Man showed the courage. “Alright then. Just know that I’m here for you. Whatever happens.”

Without asking, he helped you close up the bodice, often letting his fingers brush against your chest. You cupped his neck and drew him closer to kiss him.

“Get dressed, Ash Man.” You spoke against his lips, smiling.

It took him another moment to show the self-restraint and step away to do exactly that. A lifetime of mornings like these, was a beautiful prospect.

~~~♡~~~♡~~~◇~~~♡~~~♡~~~

Stepping out the door of your room together did not go without a moment of awkwardness when Ser Florent walked past.

“Good morning.” The knight said to the both of you. Without a warning he leaned in and tugged at the hem of your shirt that had been stuck under the bodice, the fabric fell more neatly now.

“Uhm… thank you, Ser Florent.” You were a little amazed at how observing he was.

“You are welcome.” He said, then turned to Lancelot. “I would think you would have noticed that, considering you never stop looking at her.”

Lancelot let out a small breath, seeing how the knight was almost grinning. “Good morning, Florent. Have you seen Percival?”

He gave a nod. “I saw him run in the direction of the dining hall.”

Lancelot thanked him for the information, and before the two of you could walk off, Ser. Florent pulled your attention.

“Y/n. Colette has been speaking of you. Would you sit with her at breakfast? She would like that.” Ser Florent was asking so politely and full of hope.

You couldn’t say ‘no’ to that. “I’d love to.”

Ser Florent smiled at you, something he didn’t often do for others. Maybe the knight considered you a friend, you hoped he did. “I appreciate it. As you may have noticed Colette is quite shy, it’s good for her to have someone to converse with more often.”

You touched his arm amicably. “I look forward to getting to know her better.”

Ser Florent gave a respectful tilt of the head. “Lancelot, I was informed that I am to guide you through your duties as a knight until we know for certain that you will do well on your own. Is that alright?”

The Ash Man was a bit surprised by the news. “That sounds alright. Thank you, Florent.”

The knight bowed his head once more, and went on his way again.

“He avoids much conversation with the knights, but seems to enjoy conversing with you.” Lancelot said.

It was nice to hear it. “He’s kind. I like him.”

“As long as you like me more.” There was just a pinch of jealousy under the jest.

You sighed. “There is only one other knight you have to compete with. Don’t worry.”

His brows knitted together. “Who?”

“Squirrel.” You reminded him.

He drew a deep breath and cleared his throat. “Oh. Of course.”

“Oaf.” You said, and started to walk to the dinning hall.

He quickly caught up to walk along. And you found Squirrel not far from the dining hall indeed. Lancelot called out to the boy, beckoning him over and sharing a look with you.

“What is it?” Squirrel wondered why you were delaying getting your breakfasts.

Lancelot knelt down to the boy’s level. “Percival, I wish to tell you of my plans before others hear of it.”

The boy was more than happy to hear a ‘secret’, “What plan?”

How was it possible, that he was more nervous to tell the boy than he was to face the wrath of Helio?

“I have asked y/n to wed me.” He searched the boy’s face for any reaction, big or small.

Squirrel blinked a few times, then leaned back a little. “Have you gone mad?”

Madly in love, more like.

Squirrel looked up at you, pleading for the Ash Man. “He can be a bit daft. Please, don’t be angry with him for it-”

Lancelot narrowed his eyes at the child. “She agreed.”

Squirrel’s eyes darted between you and the Ash Man in disbelief. “What-… how?”

You snorted a laugh and turned to hide it.

Deep down, he knew the boy was just doing it to get on his nerves. It was perhaps Percival’s way of showing affection. And he could not deny that it did entertain him often.

He was patient with the witty boy. “Because she loves me, as I love her.”

Squirrel looked up at you again. “So you’re staying here right? With her, with us?”

Lancelot smiled at him, it was clear that the boy had still been worried about him staying at the fort. “Percival,” He placed a hand on his shoulder, “do not doubt your importance to me. I never wanted to part with you, or her. I am staying.”

“Won’t Helio be mad at you again?” Squirrel was concerned.

Lancelot squeezed his shoulder. “Let me worry about that.”

You knelt down too, taking hold of Squirrel’s arm “May I have your blessing for our joining?”

The boy looked at you and Lancelot, both on your knees to seek his approval. The nod from the child send a wave of relief through you and the Ash Man.

You pulled Squirrel into a tight hug. “Thank you, my Little Squirrel.”

Mirena’s voice sounded, and offered Squirrel the freedom he was trying to regain from your arms when you let go. “Such emotions so early in the morning, how come?”

Helio stood at her side, looking down at Squirrel with curiosity. You and Lancelot stood up from the ground, he held Squirrel’s shoulder and you believed it was for the unspoken support he was about to need. Mirena was smiling, blissfully unaware of the storm that threatened to come down on this peaceful morning. Squirrel seemed to sense the anxiousness in the Ash Man and stood in front of him, shielding him from Helio with his small frame.

Lancelot cleared his throat, looked at you once before locking eyes on Helio. “I asked your daughter to wed me.”

You drew in a sharp breath at the announcement. Mirena looked stunned, then her eyes went to her husband to see his reaction.

Helio’s voice was colder than frost in winter. “Did you now?”

Lancelot’s confidence wavered for only a second, he picked it back together and said, “Yes, sir.”

A chill crept up your skin when they let their stubborn nature match against each other.

“And why do you believe I would allow it?” Helio’s tone was firm.

“Helio.” Mirena tried to get him to control his flaring temper.

Lancelot tried his best to speak of it in a calm manner. “You love your daughter. You want to protect her, I respect that more than you might believe I do. Truly, I-”

Helio stepped forward and took you by the arm, “I will speak with my daughter of this. After all, it is her life and future this concerns.”

You couldn’t bring a word out and Helio walked off with you.

Two hallways of silence, and you couldn’t take it anymore. You dug your heels into the floor and made him stop. “Father. I know you are against this-”

He turned to you, grabbing you by the shoulders. “How can you be certain? Little Moon, how can you know he will not break your heart? Wait a while, if he truly loves you he will wait.”

Words failed you, you had never seen him like this. He was begging you to think about it, to wait.

“Father…” You kept calm, trying to be considered of his concerns. “Nothing is for certain, only the presence. And what I am certain of now is that he loves me, and I love him. I am certain I want to join with him.”

He pulled his hands away, composing himself, the agony in his voice remained. “When you wed, where will you live?”

Was he sending you away?!?

“I swore to Squirrel I would never abandon him, you cannot throw me out of our home!” Your voice raised a little.

Helio recoiled like it had physically struck him. “I will not discard my child!”

Relief washed away the worry. “Then why did you say that?”

“Because if I let him wed you, the Ash Man will have to consider this place his home. He is not riding off with my daughter never to return. You, and him, remain here. With us.” He pointed at the floor, making his point.

You found those terms agreeable. “I understand. I think he will agree to-”

He interrupted. “There is more.”

Oh…

Helio laid out his plans. “Listen well. I am not getting any younger. This place is all there is left of our clan. Someone should always be in charge, someone of the Dawn Folk. Ciro, bless the boy’s heart, is not suited for this task. But you are. And perhaps Lancelot is suited to stand beside you in this task with his experience. We have a duty to our people, to this court that carried the hopes of our clan. Stay here, with him, with us. Learn to rule this court from me and ensure it’s future. That is what I ask in exchange for my blessing.”

You were quiet for a while, processing what this meant. Helio’s eyes fell on something behind you and you turned just enough to see Mirena and Lancelot standing at a small distance.

Mirena pushed him forward a little by the arm. “Go…”

The Ash Man slowly approached, stopping a few steps away.

“My home is wherever she is.” Lancelot said. “If she agrees, I will be at her side and rebuilt what has been lost.”

He must have heard the terms Helio had laid out. But he had only just broken free of having to lead an army of Red Paladins, did he not wish for another life? One where responsibilities were not so heavy to bare.

“Are you sure?” You asked him, this would change the future. “Lancelot, my father is asking us to be in charge of this fort in time. Are you sure you want to do this? I will not force you into a life of duty if this isn’t what you want.”

Lancelot locked eyes with you. “I understand the choice I am making. And I understand why it must be made.” He looked around himself for a moment. “This place, it’s history, it cannot be forsaken. Your home, your heritage, you still have it. It can still be saved. How could I refuse?”

You quickly walked up to Lancelot and whispered. “You don’t have to do this just to please my father. He’s not Father Carden, he won’t-”

He silenced you by cradling your head all of a sudden. “I am not doing this for him. If this was my home, if these were my parents, my heritage… if you were asked to help rebuild what was lost of my clan, what would you do?”

You realized he was doing this not out of duty, but out of the love he had for you. It rendered you speechless.

His voice was softer. “Would you stand by my side?”

You were nodding, and quietly answered. “Always.”

He blinked, his gaze intense and full of devotion. It made you forget who watching this display.

Helio tried to sound firm, but it was audible that he couldn’t muster it. “That is settled then. Yes?”

Lancelot’s hands fell away, letting you answer the question for the both of you.

“We agree.” You faced your father.

Helio gave a nod of approval. “We will talk about this after a meal. We cannot fill our stomachs with romance.”

He walked in the direction of the dining hall again, only stopping to tell the Ash Man, “Treat her well. My legs may be getting slower, but no man can outrun an arrow.”

“Helio.” Mirena sighed.

“Father.” You scolded.

Lancelot reaction was unexpected, he smiled at him. “I swear it. Sir.”

Then Helio smacked his hand unto the Ash Man’s shoulder, and looked absolutely amused by the way he nearly jumped. “Good.”

Helio released him and walked away. Mirena was smiling at you widely.

“My Little Moon is going to have a joining.” She was delighted and came to cup your cheeks, pressing a kiss to both of them. “I cannot believe it. I still sometimes think I will see you run in here with your trousers full of mud from playing in the creek.”

You couldn’t say a word when you saw her become emotional for a moment. She was apologizing for the way her eyes were getting watery. You embraced her until it stopped.

She took a step back and looked at Lancelot. “Not many are brave enough to face my husband the way you have done now.”

Lancelot tilted his head down. “I will do what I must to stay with your daughter.”

Mirena hummed, then said, “Helio likes you. It does not appear so, but it’s true.”

He wasn’t sure on how to respond to that claim and only gave half a smile, a sign of hope.

You still wondered what her opinion on the matter was, “Father will agree to us joining. But will you?”

Her gentle eyes rested first on you, then on him. “The paladins, Father Carden, the Reaper… no one has been able to keep you apart. I believe it is your destiny to be together.”

It was true, the odds had not been in your favor, and still you and him had stood strong against it all.

“And with that in mind, I give you my blessing.” She said, then turned to Lancelot. “Although I doubt it would stop you if I didn’t.”

The Ash Man send his eyes to the floor, always surrendering to Mirena’s knowing looks.

“We should be heading for our breakfast, before young Percival takes our plates. We did send him in there alone.” She said.

You took hold of Lancelot’s arm. “Good plan.”

She gave you a secret smile and walked ahead, still she caught a glimpse of how the Ash Man leaned in and kissed your head whilst walking behind her.

~~~♡~~~♡~~~♤~~~♡~~~♡~~~

Ser Florent had come to collect Lancelot right after breakfast, the knight took the task of guiding the newest knight serious. When evening came, and after you had read for Squirrel and Ciro until they fell asleep. You searched for your betrothed throughout the fort, but it was outside the curtain walls of the fort that you found him. He was sitting in the same spot as the night of the feast. You went to sit beside him as he watched the sea in the distance, the moon reflected on the water as if it was full of stars.

You sat down, not close enough to his liking because he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you against his side. His nose was in your hair, inhaling a few times. You felt his heartbeat under your palm, it quickened just before he kissed your temple. For a while nothing was said, you held his arm around your waist.

“That was your way of asking my father for my hand?” You broke the silence and snorted a laugh at the memory of the moment.

He was chuckling. “It is harder to say ‘no’ to a statement, than to a question.”

Your shoulder bumped into his. “Oh, you think you’re so clever.”

“It worked.” He protested.

You leaned your head against his shoulder, fingers playing with the leather straps across his chest. “We’ll be ruling over this place someday. I don’t know if I’ll be ready when that day comes.”

He brought a hand up to massage the back of your neck. “Everything will be alright. You are far stronger than you might think. I’ve seen it. And if there are matters you cannot handle, I shall take care of those. We will do as we have been doing, work together.”

You nodded, it was hard not to think too much of the future and get anxious over things that didn’t even happen yet.

His hand was brushing over your abdomen. “A warm day of spring was a good idea from Mirena to choose for the joining.”

It also offered your father what he so wanted, some time to get used to the idea.

“By then, everyone will have processed the news.” You hoped.

He hummed. “And Helio might be less inclined to chase me with that crossbow again.”

A small laugh escaped you, before you could stop it. “I’m sorry.”

“Do you think he would ever left me borrow it?” He sounded like he was already dreaming of it.

“I would wait to ask him that.” You said. “For at least a year. Don’t tempt him too much.”

He chuckled. “I suppose you are right.”

You couldn’t stop grinning. “You already have his daughter. Don’t try to take his weapon too.”

His chuckle turned into a laugh. He pulled you closer again, moving some of his cloak over your form as well. It was a pleasant way to sit together like this.

His nose touched your temple, “The last time I tried to kiss you here, you turned away from me.” He recalled the moment he regretted. It often still caused him shame.

You lifted your head, your own nose almost touching his. “I don’t think I would have turned away if you hadn’t be drunk.”

That certainly surprised him. “No?”

You shook your head. “You are hard to resist.”

He tugged at your waist, smirking. “Then don’t.”

His hand came up to your face and his fingertips glided down over your cheek, he repeated the caress with the back of his fingers. You followed that advice and brushed your lips to his, and broke away two seconds later.

His hand was on the back of your neck quickly, a smug smirk dancing on his lips, “Think you can get away so easily?”

You furrowed your brows until his mouth collided to yours, a silent scolding for denying him what you were so eager to give. When his hand on your waist accidentally made you ticklish, your giggle made your lips break free.

He couldn’t stop gazing at the way you smiled.

“I need you with me. Always.” The confession fell from your lips so effortlessly.

Raw emotion flashed through his eyes, intensifying them so much that it was hard not to look away.

“My sweetheart…” He whispered, quietly.

Your lips reconnected and refused to part for the night.

The Hidden had been persistent since the day you met him, and now you were grateful for it. They had brought you together.

Two summoners, chosen by the gods themselves.

Two lovers, chosen by free will.

Two lives, to spend together as one.

And a love that was written down in a book on matters of the heart, to be read and spoken off for centuries to come.

Taglist:

@ourlazydetectivekitten​​ @the-great-adventures-of-me​ @linkpk88​​  @fxrchxldws​​  @elenaoftheturks​​ @slytherlight​​ @beananacake​​    @crystallizedtime​​  @moonlightaura03​​  @angrygardendeer​​  @have-aheart​​   @5am-cigarette​​ @arcanenature​​  @thewinterskywalker​​ @notyourwildestdream​​ @coloursforyourportrait​​ @koressecretidentity​​ @nike90​​ @n1ghtlux​​ @rachlovesactors​​ @luckyzipperscissorsbat​​ @morena-doing-stuff​​  @the-fangirl-diaries​​ @gipsydanger17​​ @heavenly1927​​  @phantasmalbeiing  @labyrinthonmymind  @asarcastic-thiamstan​​  @rainyv-skies @kissingandromeda @stclairesplace @​​katjusja @isla-bell-blog @beebeerockknot @sahvlren

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist of this story.

[snowbellewells]

Self Promo Sunday: "The Belle Dame Emma"

This short MC fic was my @cssns21 entry, and I tried my hand at a fae version of Emma and a knight version of Killian with it. It took a fair amount of inspiration from the classic Keats poem "La Belle Dame sans Merci", the lines at beginning and end of the chapters are from the poem, as well as from my desire to explore the Dark Swan idea from a different angle, with more of Emma's fighting back against those tendencies as we saw at first. At any rate, as I am going back through my @cssns contributions, I was excited to find this one next. I hope you will enjoy this if you didn't see it back then, and even if you did, maybe you will enjoy it again...

Summary: Legend has it that the fae woman in the meadow will ensnare any who dare enter her domain, but the knight who chances a meeting can tell there is more to the story than superstition and gossip has allowed. The path to the truth and redemption may be fraught with dangers - to the both of them - but is it not the sworn duty of a true knight to help any who may be in need?

**Thanks a million once more to @caught-in-the-filter who made the gorgeous cover art for this fic! I absolutely love it! **

{Also available on AO3, if that is your preference}

by: @snowbellewells

Part One

I met a lady in the meads,

Full beautiful - a faery’s child,

Her hair was long, her foot was light,

And her eyes were wild.

Some folks say that she was always malevolent. Born to beguile and lure the unworthy to their doom. The fae, after all, were not to be trifled with, and those who dared do so learned their lesson at high cost.

The whispers around the fog-wisped edges of her meadow haunt, the word spoken as warning with anxious glances over the shoulder, was that her beauty was matched only by her fury. That she was possessed with a thirst to punish those who would be lured by her fair form and bewitching song. Those who were wise came to skirt wide around those fallow fields in that sparsely populated corner of the kingdom, for it was said that even those of stoutest resolve and pure intentions found this powerful nymph - be it by her face alone or some magic she wielded to draw them into her web - nigh impossible to resist.

Some retellings of her legend had her thrown from the sparkling court of the fair folk for her cruel and deviant nature. Others claimed she possessed more power and magic than any single faery had before her, and it had simply been too much - bending her better nature into madness. Still other storytellers would paint her more as a tragic sacrifice. The Fae Folk must have one who punished those unworthy of their own kind, as well as the humans who got too close to discovering their kingdom’s gates or who would dare to upset the fragile balance of peace between the two species - who might dare to think themselves equal to, and attempt to win the heart of, a faery. She was simply the one chosen to mete out these judgements. A Guardian and a Gatekeeper, as it were.

And though there is often a grain of truth to any rumor, very rarely do such stories paint their characters as they truly are. Not in full. And the ballad of awe and fear told of the beautiful, but deadly, lady Emma - La Belle Dame Sans Merci - was just such a tale. The whispers bore fragments of reality, but could not explain it all. Though she was not blameless, she was not completely lost. Perhaps there only needed to be some small spark of light, some reason for her to look within for any shred of mercy she might still possess.

~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~

The wind rushed across his forehead, lifting the strands of his dark hair from his heated skin pleasantly and ruffling his steed’s mane before dancing on to bend the grasses along the quiet roadside and tug at the leaves on nearby trees. It was a pleasant morning to be about, though the way seemed strangely untraveled since his turn-off at the last crossroad. Killian Jones, knight-at-arms, found he didn’t truly mind the peacefulness and lack of fellow travelers, enjoying the sounds of breeze and birdsong and mulling his own thoughts. Though adventure, daring battle, and quests of honor made his blood pound with vigor, causing excitement to tingle in his nerve endings and a sense of fulfillment in being where he was needed and doing what he must flooded his being, he could admit if only to himself on this placid afternoon, that he sometimes still wondered if there was more.

He certainly did not wish to change his profession. He would never be happy as a blacksmith, farmer, or tradesman; anything so mundane, necessary as those roles were, would never satisfy him for long. And yet, he had begun to feel the weight of many battles, the lives he had held in his hands, and the blood he could sometimes still see behind closed eyelids, had begun to haunt him. If there was always another fight, another enemy to vanquish, more violence and death and Darkness, were they making any difference? Was a glimmer of the light they fought for shining through, or were they merely treading water, waiting to be subsumed?

It was what had brought him to this quiet roadside meadow alone, rather than back on the high road with his fellows, moving on to the next castle and the next foe they needed to vanquish. He had called out that he would rejoin them further down the road; it was not unusual for one of them to split off on some personal venture from time to time. It was a life of constant movement, never truly being at ease or settling anywhere, and yet it made sense that sometimes one would need to pause, linger, and think for a moment where it was still and inviting enough to do so.

Killian knew he had traveled in this corner of the kingdom before - though it had been some time back. He did not remember the way this road had curved and twined, becoming narrowed and more removed from the larger surroundings as it followed a trickling brook along its way. The sounds of the village some miles back now, of other travelers whom he had not seen for some time, even the rustling of leaves and grasses and the twittering of the birds seemed to fade. A stillness encircled him such as he had never experienced before. It might have been unnerving if he had not been seeking quiet and peace to think, answers for the questions that troubled him. His mount danced fitfully on occasion, tossing his shaggy black head as if ill at ease, but Killian found he was too entranced, too breathlessly curious to turn back now. Plus, Shadow was a spirited animal and his fitfulness did not truly alarm his rider. There was a reason only Killian seemed able to handle him. 

The brooke, and the path following it, both turned again sharply, and Killian ducked to ride under the low-hanging branch of a tree, and when he sat back up in his saddle once more, the sight around that bend brought him up short. The creek came to a stop at last, running into a still pond, dark and motionless, and on the far side of the pond was some sort of cave, its mouth wide open as if beckoning those brave enough to explore. Flowers grew strewn through tall grasses, and all of it was waving soundlessly in the breeze like a beckoning sea.

Again, Killian found he was almost mystified by his own impulse to dismount and come closer. To seek out every secret corner of this meadow hideaway. He knew well enough not to venture into dark and unknown caves and underground passages, and yet the pull was nigh irresistible. He stood in wonderment, taking it all in as he stroked Shadow’s nose, soothing the restless gelding.

“What is it, lad?” Killian murmured to his horse, scratching behind its ears and trying to keep a firm grip on the reins as the creature continued to shuffle and toss its head.

Suddenly, the knight sensed he and his steed were no longer alone, a strong scent of apple blossoms and sweet honey stirred on the breeze and a chill ran over his skin, making the small hairs on his arms stand on end.

A dulcet, hypnotic voice spoke on the horse’s other side, a delicate feminine hand stroking over the animal’s nose caused Shadow to calm instantly. “Perhaps,” it offered subtly, “he knows something you do not.”

Killian had never known Shadow to gentle for anyone else; the creature rarely grew that still even for him, and the chill which had run through him a moment before now shivered down his spine. “And what might that be?” he questioned stoutly, not allowing any of his trepidation to show in his tone. “And who are you and what might you know of it?”

A form so fair, so ethereally bright and beautiful that he knew immediately she must be more than human, stepped into view from the other side of his horse. Long, glowing golden hair hung to her waist, twined with buttercups and bluebells, her feet were bare and gracefully shaped, her eyes a verdant green he wanted to fall into like a thick carpet of clover and grass, and the slight tilt of her voluptuously shaped pale pink lips somehow seemed to hint she already knew she had entranced him. The lady who had materialized there in the meadow at his side was breathtaking; her smile serene and inviting, her voice low and melodic, drawing him to lean in closer to hear what she would say next.

“Do you not hear strange tales of this place, warning travelers to be on their guard?” she tilted her head slightly, studying him as if bemused.

“I am a knight of the Realm, milady,” he replied, “Sworn to go where others may fear to tread, to protect the helpless and vanquish dangers wherever they might be. Seldom am I in one place long enough to hear all the local legends and superstitions, but even so, I would not let such talk turn me from my duty.”

That pale, lovely face continued to meet his own gaze head-on, not doubting, but merely watching as if weighing his response and gauging the sincerity of his words. Humming lightly to herself, she stepped away from him and Shadow, turning towards the pond’s smooth surface, almost as if taking for granted that he would follow.

Killian found to his chagrin that he had blindly followed two strides in her wake before realizing he had done so. Glancing back over her shoulder with arched brow and genuine question in her tone she asked, “Your duty brought you here then?”

Dipping his chin slightly toward the metal armor that covered his chest, Killian offered her a slight show of respect. He was not sure just where he had wandered, if he was trespassing on some royal land and this was some trick to ensnare him in wrongdoing, if he had wandered into some sort of enchanted space and she was a siren risen from the depths, or perhaps she was their next evil wizard or monster to fight, taking on a disguise of fair form to spy upon them and learn their weaknesses. As much as he felt a pull toward her and wanted to stay there speaking with her, there was at the same time a warring sense of unease in his being. The day was wearing on, he had yet to make arrangements for the night, and he had given his word to find his fellows once more as well.

“That I do not yet know,” he finally replied. “I broke off from a larger company at the last bend in the road. This meadow was so peaceful and inviting, and I suppose curiosity led me further as much as anything.”

For a time neither spoke, and Killian noticed for the first time that all other sounds had ceased as well. The rustling of the leaves and grasses, the birdsong and the plash of the brook into the larger pool were all muted; every bit of their surroundings gone strangely still. He knew it impossible, but for a moment it seemed as if he were frozen in a still life, unmoving, unblinking, like a statue carved in stone.

The beautiful vision stared into the water silently, so long and so deeply he wondered if she had forgotten his presence. Killian did not know whether to address her further or to turn and go, nor was he certain that his feet would move to turn from her if he did attempt to leave.

As eerily still as all was around him, he felt more concern in that instant that he had upset her, troubled or disturbed her somehow with his presence or his answers to her questions. Urging Shadow forward, he came to stand beside the mysterious lady once more, reaching out a hand meant to soothe or comfort.

But before he could make contact she whirled to meet him, her face a mask of pained struggle, her eyes wide and alarmed and so much darker than the jeweled green they had been before. Her voice was harsher, rough as she screeched for him to stand back, to get away from there. He didn’t understand the transformation, but he could see she was nearly vibrating with tension, trembling as if some force wanted to burst from her and she could scarcely hold it back. What had been a gentle breeze now howled about them, and the still pond was whipped into choppy waves. Killian stumbled back, dumbstruck, uncertain what was happening.

The idyllic beauty of his surroundings and the pleasant stranger before him had been changed instantaneously. None of the calm tranquility or gentle smiles which had lured him further in lingered now, and the enthralling vision before him now radiated tension and warning, her voice still rasping as if dragged over glass, saying that he must flee, she could only hold back so long.

Nearly as confused as he was alarmed or frightened, Killian shook his head, anxious to clear it of the doubt swirling through - had he imagined everything before? Or was he imagining things now? The anguish on that fair brow was enough to send him away for the moment, the pale maiden well on her way to enchanting him looked stretched to her limits, beseeching him to leave while he was still able. The chilvalrous knight he was fought against leaving such a one in pain or distress, but he also knew that he did not understand the situation, did not know all that was needed to act wisely.

And so, reluctantly, he swung up into Shadow’s saddle, his steed at least feeling no qualms about leaving. The beast tossed his head and wheeled to gallop off at the first mere prodding, hide quivering as he carried his rider back the way they had come in haste.

Killian, for his part, felt compelled to look back. For a moment, he could still see her form, curling in on herself slightly as she seemed to double over, and growing ever smaller in his view. The whole vista seemed to waver, partially obscured by a rising haze, until he could not have pointed out exactly where it had been.

Soon after, Shadow had carried them back to the main road, and Killian urged him to turn back onto it, to once more find his fellows, quite possibly in the next small village. Yet, though he appeared safely back on course, Killian could not forget what he had seen and heard… haunted by the face of the troubled maiden.

~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~

The faery, Emma, sagged in relief as the knight finally rode from view. She was breathlessly grateful for the mist which rose up from the surface of the pool, and the very air itself, now heavy and charged and hiding her from view, where before it had been so fresh and light with Spring. No wonder the man had been drawn to the small oasis. With the flowers and cool breeze and sparkling waters, her hidden grotto was made to be inviting, dangerously appealing. As was she herself - in form and face - or so she had been told when the curse was placed upon her.

Sinking to her knees in the tall grass, the thin blades and the faces of the daisies both brushed her skin if trying to offer comfort, Emma panted rapidly in effort to regain her breath. She had managed to hold it back, the dark power which had been twined with the natural light fae magic inside her. Her song, once capable of brightening skies, coaxing plants to blossom, and raising spirits that were broken or bowed, now would ensnare and entwine those same lost souls who might cross her path, draining them and never allowing them to leave.

One solitary tear slipped down her cheek as her breathing calmed and she contemplated the change wrought upon her being against her will. It kept her even from her own kind; loved ones who might ease the hurt and loneliness. For she did not know for certain if they were immune to the strange siren call she had been infected with, and she could not bear to risk such folly. It was horrifying enough to have almost trapped and harmed the handsome stranger who had stumbled upon her hideaway, but she would not surve being the death of one she loved.

Sadly, Emma finally managed to stand again, making her way slowly back to the mouth of the cavern where she spent so much of her time hidden away from the trees and flowers, the sunshine and fair breezes and springtime that she loved for fear of her curse withering it all and destroying others who wandered near, appreciating the same beauty of which she had once been the caretaker. Folly it had been to venture out today, and yet she had been unable to help herself, needing to see and smell and touch the bounty she had been denied. Then it had seemed the knight had just appeared.

Those eyes… a new sort of pang in her heart twinged at the reflection. They had been so blue, searching and deep, as pristine and sparkling as the waters before her and seeking to understand as if he sensed her pain. What an idea! Emma shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself to ward off the frail hope. That could lead nowhere but disaster for the both of them. A proud, strong young life cut down for no reason if he did return. She was not sure exactly how her powers would snare him in thrall, drain him of life, only that the dark and twisted caster had proclaimed it would be so. She had managed to hold the welling of destructive energy she could feel rising within herself until the man had gone. And normally she managed to stay hidden well enough, removed from all others, that she did not chance unleashing it.

What had drawn her to this one? Caused her to show herself? Why had it almost seemed as if the knight could sense something was wrong? She did not know, and it troubled her, but there was no one to ask for advice. Quite possibly no answers to be had at all. She knew no other faery who had been punished in such a manner.

Turning to slink back into her cavern, Emma’s shoulders slumped. She certainly couldn’t risk being seen again this day; her strength was far too diminished to fight the poison surging to escape if any other hapless being discovered her. Such a horrible, unending punishment, for an unknowing, well-intended mistake, her spirit railed fruitlessly once again. How could she have known that bestowing her innocent heart in love would bring her here?

I made a garland for her head,

And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;

She looked at me as she did love,

And made sweet moan.

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @laschatzi @whimsicallyenchantedrose

@jrob64 @apiratewhopines @anmylica @xarandomdreamx @booksteaandtoomuchtv

@donteattheappleshook @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl

@spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @stahlop

@xsajx @bluewildcatfanatic @kday426 @superchocovian @jonesfandomfanatic

@motherkatereloyshipper @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @lfh1226-linda @linda8084

@winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @darkcolinodonorgasm @myfearless-love @undercaffinatednightmare

@belovedcreation @ultraluckycatnd @drowned-dreamer @ineffablecolors @goforlaunchcee

[clouzyday]

Title: 30 Days In Purgatory

Chapter 5: Day 5

Rating: Mature

Chapter Summary: After Izara's Night of Terror, Nanami and Gojo agree to ignore her. Lucky for her, she's too occupied fighting off spirits to take much notice. When she finally sees Nanami that night, the visions of her body once again bring him a tingling excitement he can't fight off. Instead of fighting the urge, he chooses to succumb to it and finally pleasure himself to end his sensual thoughts of her.

This chapter has a Nanami solo. :D

Read the story here!

Story Summary

*Anime/Manga Spoiler*

Following Gojo and Nanami's sudden deaths, they find themselves in an afterlife that seems like heaven. A woman, Izara, reveals that Gojo and Nanami have a chance to return to Earth or ascend to heaven after thirty days, with the option to free her from purgatory. However, Nanami remains skeptical, questioning Izara's intentions and the true nature of purgatory. The story unfolds as they all navigate this enigmatic realm, with Gojo expressing eagerness to save Izara and Nanami maintaining a cautious stance.

As Izara struggles to gain trust, she can only unveil fragments of her family's cursed history. As time goes by, feelings change, decisions will be made and possibilities of betrayal are right around the corner. With Izara's fate in their hands, she'll do anything to escape the hell she's been placed in. Soon, everyone's destinies become intertwined in a complex web of curses, trust, and the quest for redemption.

All illustrations made by me :)

To see the full, uncensored (NSFW) unblurred version, visit my twitter here!

[tokiro07]

Undead Unluck ch.204 thoughts

[Lord Forgive Me But It's Time to Go Back to The Old Me]

(Contents: Parallels - Nico/Feng/Ichico, Character development - Feng, Power system development/speculation - Souls, Character speculation - Sun/Luna)

Well! I guess we didn't need to worry about Nico staying a non-Negator after all, now did we? So much for keeping Nico "Unforgettable-free" eh, Ichico? Still, I feel better knowing that my prediction that they'd trigger it on purpose was correct, even if the exact method was a bit off

As usual, Tozuka continues to impress me with his ability to compose iconic panels. Nico's face when he absorbed all of the memories from Acopalypse is simply Unforgettable, particularly since it so immediately reverted him to his classic L100 appearance. What's really fun about that is that it's probably not that his body just suddenly remembered all of the stress and sleepless nights of Unforgettable, but rather it's the logical extreme of Artifact-based memory influx. We've seen characters develop headaches and nosebleeds from it before, most notably from Fuuko digging through an huge box full of Artifacts, so for Nico to absorb presumably ALL of Apocalypse's stored memories (stated to be the most of any Artifact), it makes sense that even the capillaries under his eyes would all burst at once from the pressure

The question now is whether or not this is a permanent change. I imagine not, since his previously haggard appearance was indicative of his suffering, the haunting knowledge that his most sacred memories would soon fade and be permanently replaced with the most wretched. L100 Nico had the opportunity to create new pleasant memories but actively rejected the possibility out of fear of losing the old, while in this world Nico is going to be able to embrace the support of others as he won't have lost Ichico this time. Honestly, no wonder Tozuka waited to introduce Mico to this world; he wanted to make sure Nico would be able to make room for her in his heart rather than keeping her at a distance

I wonder if that's another reason Tozuka chose Feng for this fight; not only is Feng's current focus on making himself unforgettable to future generations, but he's also a good parallel to Nico's role as a father. Both L100 Nico and Feng prevented themselves from properly forming attachments with their children, and L101 has given both of them the chance to make right on that. Shen explicitly acknowledges that he loves Feng as his father, and Feng even calls Shen his son, so while Feng may not be the best or even a good role model for fatherhood, he does make a compelling argument for parental redemption. If Nico really does have complete knowledge of the previous Loops now, the significance of this change won't be lost on him, and he'll be certain to make sure Mico can grow up happy and loved

Speaking of, Ichico's final speech in this chapter remind me a lot of Nico's in L100. She tells Nico that she knows he can save her because he's the first person she's ever loved, while as Nico was dying in L100, Ichico asked if he thought Mico could handle saving Fuuko's life and he replied "she's our daughter. She doesn't make mistakes." Both of them have absolute faith in their loved ones to pull through when the chips are down, and both of them hold each other in extremely high regard. These two really have such strong chemistry, I'm excited to see the sorts of interactions they have now that the cat's out of the bag

Now that I think of it, Nico's refusal to let Mico into his heart was pretty ironic since Ichico explicitly wanted to make sure that Nico wouldn't ever feel alone. Just like Leila asked Rip and Latla to find love in each other, Ichico wanted Nico to fill the void she left with Mico, and just like them, he couldn't let go of the past and move on. Leila and Ichico were also both in poor health and believed that since their lives were short they held less value, and instead sought to leave as much of an impact as possible in the time that they had, even if it was just to make the people closest to them happy

Looking at Ichico in that light, we can see another fun parallel to Feng! Feng's Unfade made him believe that he had all the time in the world and that he didn't need to leave anything behind because he'd always be there, while Ichico's Unsleep made her believe she had no time and had to leave as much behind as she could. Both of them, however, had adverse effects on their families, as Feng believed his children to exist for him to become stronger and Ichico believed her child to be an adequate replacement for herself, when in reality Feng should have focused on raising someone to surpass him and Ichico should have focused on preserving her life to be present for her family. Heck, Unforgettable manifested in Nico both times specifically because he saw Ichico's last moments and thought something to the effect of "I don't want her to die, I want to remember her." Doomed by the narrative, indeed!

Man, I'm so glad Tozuka used Feng here, I had no idea there was so much connective tissue between all these folks! I bet we still would have gotten something cool if it were Tella, but damn this is such juicy stuff!! I hope Tozuka keeps throwing all of his toys together in fun combos that get me to think this deeply in the other Master Rule fights too

Feng's inclusion here also continues to demonstrate how far he's developed, forcing him to put his money where his mouth is and sacrifice himself for someone else for a change. He was a bit incredulous at first that Ichico was suggesting he should die, which is pretty hypocritical coming from the guy who just last chapter said "you should sacrifice your wife to get stronger, it'll be cool." Once he realized that dying would help him understand souls better and that Nico could save him AND bring him back to life, Feng was all for it, and may well come to understand that being with people provides more opportunities for growth than treating them as expendable ever could

I am very interested in seeing how his death will improve his understanding of souls, though. The damage he took from Luna's soul blast as well as the damage he dealt to Sun (who Language stated has a physical body) with his knock-off Kamehameha both prove that souls can directly interact with the physical plane, something that Ghost previously stated couldn't be done. This may be a matter of interpretation, though, as Ghost also stated that Andy only couldn't move his limbs after having those parts of his soul cut off because he believed he could move his body using his soul. Ghost's interpretation was that souls couldn't touch physical matter and vice versa, so only a physical attack coated in soul could harm him by ensuring it didn't matter which form he was in

Luna's attack seems to be pure soul, so by that logic, she shouldn't have been able to deal damage to Feng's body, and yet she did. Is Luna's interpretation that a soul attack damages the soul and reflects its state on the body? Probably not, then one wouldn't be able to detach their soul for attacks in the first place, as that would cause the body to change shape (see Mahito's Idle Transfiguration in JJK). Does Luna interpret souls as having different properties at different concentrations? Is she coating her soul around the air to create physical pressure when launching her attack? Or is it something entirely different? Whatever it turns out to be, I think it will have pretty drastic implications for how battles are fought going forward

Finally, I want to touch on an interesting line from Language. She referred to Luna and Sun as "the Pinnacle of the Spiritual and the Pinnacle the Physical" respectively, and given Luna's hazy silver appearance, it does track that she is literally made of soul, but then does that mean Luna doesn't have a physical body at all? And in fact, if Luna is only a soul, then how did she exist prior to UMA Soul's creation? Is Soul really the Rule that allows souls to exist, or the Rule that allows other souls, existences like Luna, to be?

And if Luna is a soul without a body, then...is Sun a body without a soul? Can soul-based attacks work on Sun, or does the Union need to focus solely on physical attacks? Or, does defeating Sun require that Luna be defeated simultaneously, just like Ghost, because Luna is Sun's soul?

I know I say it all the time, but Tozuka really is following Oda's footsteps incredibly well. They're both so good at sprinkling in hints that make me ask questions rather than just spoonfeeding me answers, so while I desperately want the answers, the time I get to spend chewing them over and looking for them myself makes the questions stick with me and leave that much more of an impact. I sincerely hope that other mangaka are taking notes, cus I want to see so much more of this in Jump's future!

Until next time, let's enjoy life!

[azlan-snow]

Humble Beginnings(Radiobelle)

Chapter Eight: A Trying Mother

(Still told from Lillith’s POV)

“Hello, Charlotte.”

“Dad?”

“CHARLIE!”

“What are you doing here?”

“We’ve come to see you and your ‘redemption’ project,” I say. “But will you introduce us to your lovely residents first?”

“Of course!” She pulls Alastor down the rest of the stairs, taking him by surprise. “This is Alastor, my business partner!”  Alastor furrows at the introduction from her, and continues to introduce himself. “Quite a pleasure to meet you both, quite a pleasure.Your daughter is quite the demon belle.” His smile never fades as he looks at us, staring us down. He extends his hand to greet us, and I take it, seeing how much of a gentleman he is, but Lucifer, on the other hand, decides to decline, not liking how buddy-buddy he was acting with our daughter. “Come this way, Mom and Dad!” We follow her to the bar, when Lucifer speaks. “What in the UNHOLY Hell is that?”

“Just some of the reservations we had done, your Majesty. Adds a bit of color, don’t you think?”

“No, I don’t. I think it’s quite hideous.”

“Luci, that’s disrespectful,” I say, trying to be kind. 

“It’s true! It’s so tacky!”

“Dad, come on. Be nice! It adds color, just like Alastor said."

“Alastor. Your name sounds familiar,” I say, pondering where I had heard it from. “You’re the infamous Radio Demon, aren’t you. The one with the jazz and classical radio station.”

“That’s correct, Your Majesty,” Alastor says, congratulating her. “I’m surprised that the Queen of Hell knows who I am.”

“Yes, you have quite the reputation of carnage. Quite a feat, if you ask me. Congrats.”

“Thank you, Your Eminence. Thank you very much.” He looks at me with such pride, and looks down at Charlie, pupils dilating, and smile softening. “I noticed that the two of you have a special…bond per se. Is there anything you would like to tell us, Charlie?” Charlie blushes hard at the question, full of embarrassment. It seemed as if I asked the right question. 

“Unfortunately, no, Your Grace. Charlie and I are merely business partners, nothing more.” 

“Unfortunately, Alastor?”

“Yes.” 

“Sounds like someone needs to get a move on.”

“Mom!” Charlie, blushing even harder now from embarrassment, looks at her in stress. 

“What are you two talking about? You…like my daughter,” Lucifer asks, confused. 

“Yes. I do. Who would have thought the Radio Demon of all people would have stuck on somebody?  Never would I have thought I could love anyone, in life or in death. She proved me wrong. She deserves love. Love that you two failed to give her.” I was shocked by the comment, but remained emotionless. My husband, on the other hand, lost it. 

“How dare you! Insulting us in our faces!” Lucifer turns to his demonic form as he grabs Alastor by the neck and throws him against the nearest wall he could find. Alastor looks up at him, fear evident, but not affecting his decisions. He dodges Luci’s next attack as he releases hellfire.

“Dad, Stop! Please!” Charlie shouts at him running towards the fight. The closer she got the angrier she got. When she reached her father, she displayed the family resemblance: horns, red and black eyes, fire in between her horns, her adorable little tail, and angelic wings, just like her father. She pins him to the floor in a nice bodyslam that I believe was well-earned. “Mom, do you mind,”she asks, gesturing to my out-of-control husband. I walk over to her and pick up my squirming husband. “Luci, please. Calm down.”

“ Why should scum like you have our daughter?”

“Because your daughter changed me. She made me see things from a different perspective. I used to think that murdering people was the way to happiness, but she changed that. She showed me that there is happiness in people. She showed me how to love others, something I wasn’t capable of in life.” Charlie was in tears. Demon form still present, she rushed over to him and hugged him. His face shocked, then warmed up as he hugged her back.

“Thank you for loving my daughter, I say. “She deserves love. Love we failed to give her.”

“I still don’t understand,” Lucifer remarked, still in my grasp. “Why her?”

“Did you miss the whole two speeches I gave explaining why? Or were you just not tall enough to hear me?”

“Alastor! Apologize,” Charlie scolded, looking at him in shame. 

“No. It’s true. Your father is quite short, Charlie.”

Charlie punches him in the shoulder , earning a wince of pain from him. “Apologies, your Majesty,”he says. 

“Apology declined.” Lucifer laughs at the Radio Demon as he begins to glare at him.

“Well, I guess we should clean up this mess. Dad, Alastor? Do you mind working together to get this done?” She smiled sweetly at the two, and they couldn’t say no. As they clean, we talk. 

“Charlie.”

“Yes, Mom?”

“ Do you love this man?”

“I don't know, but yes. I do.”

“Very well. As long as you love him, I’m happy. Your father, on the other hand, may not be.”

“He’ll get over it. Hopefully.”

“How did it happen?”

“He started helping me a couple days ago as I was having a hard time due to insomnia. But I didn’t know I did all that for him. I’ll have to ask him later.”

“Well if you did this for someone, hopefully you will forgive us. He looks at us with such disdain.”

“Well, he doesn’t like you two. He knows what you leaving and Dad shutting himself out did to me. Which is probably why he treats Lucifer the way he does.”

“Who do you think would win in a fight?”

“Obviously Dad. Alastor is strong, but not that strong.” I chuckle at her answer as she looks me dead in the eyes. “Mom. I need to know. Why did you leave?” I looked back at her, hurt in her eyes, as in mine. 

“I made a deal. I was sentenced to Heaven for seven years in order not to cause any backfire in the exterminations. I wasn’t allowed to leave nor roam Heaven. I wasn’t able to get any of your calls either, little one. I’m so sorry.” I was in tears, kneeling before my crying daughter. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, Charlie. But I am truly sorry.” 

“ I do forgive you, Mom. I do. Thank you for telling me the truth.” We hugged, crying into each other as Luci and Alastor stared at each other and us. They walk over and join the embrace, Charlie and I still crying. Once we cease, we prepare to leave. “We’ll do the tour on a different day, Char-Char. Okay?”

“Of course, Dad. Farewell!” 

“Goodbye, my beautiful daughter,” I say, embracing her once more. 

“Goodbye, Mom. See you later?”“Of course.” We exit the hotel and enter the limo to return home.

“That went well, didn’t it?”

[dysthanasia-series]

Story (Re)Intro

Title: Apophenia

Genre(s): Speculative fiction, vampires, urban fantasy, paranormal fantasy, near-future

Summary:

Mermaids don't exist. Every agent of the Coven, the organization that researches and governs the supernatural community, knows that. Accepting a classified assignment to investigate sightings along the Broken Coast is just an easy paycheck as far as Isaac Soto is concerned (not to mention another way to avoid dealing with his trauma and relationship issues).

A chance meeting with a charming stranger in a roadside diner changes not only the course of Isaac's assignment but the trajectory of his life. A life now in danger of being cut short unless he figures out how to escape the bloodborn who takes him hostage, a necromancer out to kill both of them, and the corruption at the heart of the organization he thought he believed in.

Apophenia is the introduction to Dysthanasia, a series that follows a cast of human and supernatural characters as they navigate a post-climate apocalypse Earth, fight against (or with) various factions vying for control, and find peril, solidarity, love, redemption, and purpose along the way. Discover what the world became and meet those who will determine what it might yet be.

Taglist Sign-Up (or just ask to be +/-)

Dysthanasia Taglist: @thecyrulik @k--havok @thatndginger @space-writes @sunset-a-story @theglitchywriterboi @extrabitterbrain @ashirisu

Full first chapter under the cut

Words: 3,553

Content Advisory: Swearing, flirting, mentions of past bad breakups

To Chapter 2 >>

Comic Sans Character Guide

Taking an assignment along the Broken Coast always got a reaction. Everyone from the archivist gathering relevant case materials to people not even in Isaac’s department eagerly volunteered a list of their deepest fears as soon as they heard where he was headed. Storms out that way were ten times as crazy—tornadoes, hurricanes, flash floods that could sweep away anything or anyone in their path. Then all the earthquakes left over from the Break to boot? It was a miracle humans survived out there at all. The drive from Chicago alone was brutal, at least twenty-six hours, assuming the highways were in decent repair and smugglers hadn’t set up roadblocks to ambush travelers. No civic guards in the territories made it a wonderland for criminals plying their dark trades, from thieves to murderers. Any decent people that far outside a reliable grid scratched out an existence through hunting and gathering, their tech and habits straight from the paleolithic. The coast was as far from civilization as anybody could get without joining half of California under the Pacific. That’s why they never went any farther west than St. Paul, and if he were smart he’d follow their examples.

So, Isaac had let out a sigh of relief when Director Khang told him this job was strictly classified. Not a word breathed to archives—all the info he needed would be accessible from his tab. Even his colleagues wouldn’t know where he’d gone until after he submitted a final report. As great as the other agents in his department could be, salt of the earth really, Isaac appreciated having breathing space to work. Nevermind if that work was the Coven equivalent of a wild goose chase. He got paid per diem anyway.

He did have to admit his coworkers’ unsolicited past comments had one thing right. The drive to Nevada territory, while scenic at times, wore him out even when broken up over two days. He might’ve extended the trip to twice that long under normal circumstances if Director Khang hadn’t stressed urgency. Stopped to buy a pie at the shelter farms strung all across the Midlands since berries were in season. Taken a dawn hike when he hit the Rockies and allowed himself to think of his dad, tía, and cousins where no one could see him break down. Still, when he spotted a roadside rest stop with a little place to eat about an hour south of Sin Strip Beach, Isaac decided he’d earned a leg stretch and some breakfast.

He parked under the last row of solar panels, patted his car on the hood, leaving a handprint in the layer of desert dust that had settled over it, then plugged it into the charging station. Eight other vehicles shared the lot even at three a.m. Mostly pickup trucks that had the rusty scars and mismatched parts of salvages, but there were a couple of humble sedans just like his mixed in. A breeze tousled his already messy curls but didn’t have the teeth to bite through his jacket. Under the smell of sun-baked earth and creosote, Isaac caught a whiff of sea brine. He squinted toward the western horizon. The glitter of stars remained unbroken until they met the gentle swelling silhouette of hills in the distance. No incoming storm clouds, not yet. Roads and weather permitting, he’d reach Eureka by mid-morning. Maybe he’d even manage to get some actual work done. Maybe.

The rest stop had all its windows intact, metal storm shudders rolled up. Though a big terra cotta pot beside the entrance brimmed with gravel and cigarette butts, the walkway itself was swept clean. A little bell over the door tinkled to announce Isaac’s entrance. About a dozen pairs of eyes spared him a glance, but his old jeans and faded green flannel jacket sparked zero interest. Just another traveler passing through. He made a beeline for the narrow order window. No kiosk interface waited there, only a board on the wall listing menu items and a magpad to jot down the ones he wanted. The chilaquiles plate was crossed out, which was a shame. Isaac settled on a waffle, huevos con nopales, and coffee. He pushed the magpad and a credit charge chit through the order slot, nodded at the kitchen staff behind the glass, then snagged the only remaining table, luckily beside a window.

Isaac pulled his tab from his jacket pocket and checked the outer screen. Two message notifications greeted him. The same two he’d been putting off replying to for a month. Jonah, ever patient, hadn’t added anything since sending his initial one, of course. The number of unread replies on Elfy’s, however, had ticked up, making for a grand total of fourteen. A long string of attempts to reach out, starting at hey, how’ve you been, morphing into I’m worried about you, and winding up around don’t make me hunt you down, prick.

He'd answer soon. The moment he finished his assignment he’d get back to her, to both of them. A week, at max. Elfy would let him have it for keeping her in the dark for so long, but then they’d make plans to grab drinks and catch up once he returned home. Jonah would joke about Isaac training to become a hermit before telling him all about his weird adventures in the northwest territories, tracking down tales of dire wolves and Bigfoot. Maybe Isaac would even get an assignment out that way so they could see each other outside of the Coven’s winter solstice party for once. Nevermind how awkward the visit might be at first because of Isaac’s drunken decision making at the last one.

Promises made, Isaac flipped his tab open to use the full inner screen. He tapped the file application and scrolled through until he found the assignment info Director Khang had sent him. He’d skimmed the basic objectives between rushing to pack for the sudden trip, so he took his time looking them over again. Sightings off Broken Coast. Integrated wereshark community in Nevada territory headed by Hart, Lawrence M. Verify eyewitness testimony. Coordinate search efforts and data collection. Isaac continued down to the attached transcription of statements. He kept them on one side of the screen while making notes on the other.

Multiple unidentified creatures had been encountered along the shoreline as well as in open ocean, both near the surface and as deep as a thousand meters. Anthropoid from the midsection up—arms, hands, shoulders, rounded head. Below the belt, however…caudal fins or flukes. Tentacles. Even a spiny carapace equipped with four or maybe six segmented legs in one case. If the reports had come only from humans in the community, Isaac wouldn’t have bothered to accept the assignment, per diem or no. It wasn’t like drunk people seeing mermaids while they were out fishing was a first. The fact that the bulk of the details came from three weresharks, though…well.

We couldn’t smell any plastic or rubber o algo así, claimed Tecla Santana Machado, speaking for both herself and the spirit of the great white shark bound to her soul. Didn’t smell like any prey we knew either. Se nos cayeron los chones cuando lo vimos. Scared the hell out of us tambièn.

One second it was there, and the next it kind of, like, I dunno, flickered? And then it would show up somewhere else. From Anaru Shortland, a thresher. We could sense the little pins and needles coming off it when we saw it. The, you know, like, electricity. When it disappeared or, or teleported or whatever it was doing, it felt more like a current. Just water pressure swirling around.

Isaac had formed a couple of hypotheses by the time the order bell announced his food was waiting on the pickup counter. First, that someone had figured out how to bind new types of animal spirits. While the Coven only had records of success with big cats, wolves, seven species of sharks, alligators, crocodiles, and bears (though not since the sixteenth century) that didn’t mean people weren’t experimenting. Isaac scowled while drizzling salsa over his eggs. He refused to congratulate anyone for butchering wildlife just because they didn’t like the species of spirit being handed down from their elders, or they wanted to stand out. Turning the culprit(s) in wouldn’t necessarily fix the problem either. The Coven might prosecute them, but once word got out that another kind of transformation had been discovered it would inspire other careless people to replicate the results. Not such a simple assignment, after all. Then again, the werecreatures Isaac had become familiar with preferred to enforce their own codes of conduct. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d buried his head in busywork while the community beat a greater sense of responsibility into a troublemaker. He added inquire about local customs to his list of notes.

The second, more optimistic explanation for the whole situation involved forms of sorcery or witchcraft above his paygrade. Illusion or summoning or other stuff that involved drawing intricate chalk diagrams under a certain phase of the moon. In which case, he’d gladly report what was happening and let the higher-ups bicker amongst themselves about whether the werecreature or magic department held higher jurisdiction.

Headlights pierced the night outside and slashed across Isaac’s vision. He shielded his face with one hand, peering through his fingers. A sleek black sedan with official-looking plates whipped around a corner of the parking lot, looking for a space. His heartbeat gave an arrhythmic jump and kicked into a faster pace. Corporate farm or railway reps never made a night more relaxing. Highway bandits and smugglers at least had the decency to let people go about their business after a modest bribe. Isaac slouched farther into his seat and noted all exits.

A lone, short figure wove its way through the parked cars from the back of the lot. Isaac allowed himself to breathe a tad easier. Company shitheads were always at their most dangerous in packs. The light filtering out from the diner illuminated the newcomer as they approached. Clean-shaven, no suit or tie, although there was a white button-down shirt beneath their close-fitting athletic jacket. Isaac’s hand clenched around his knee when he caught a nocturnal-green flash reflected from their eyes. Or…no. No, they were just a naturally lighter color. He relaxed and stopped pressing against the window to stare. Straightening up, he did his best to fake nonchalance.

Every gaze in the diner locked onto the owner of the fancy black car as soon as they were through the door. Rather than shrivel up and wither into dust, they offered a smile, complete with dimples, that could’ve been brought home to the most skeptical parents. They gave a sweeping bow to the room in general before strolling straight up to the order window. The click of leather dress shoes against the tile floor sounded loud enough to carry for miles into the surrounding hills.

The newcomer paid no further mind to their audience as they put in a quick order and received a steaming coffee mug in return. Turning from the little window, they scanned the room for a spot to sit. A collective shift of unease rolled through the crowd. Isaac’s blood pressure doubled when the stranger’s eyes—a startling shade of blue-green like a tropical sea—settled on him and his window seat. He considered just getting up and leaving as they made a beeline for his table. Except a) that might spark a confrontation if they got offended, and b) he hadn’t finished half his plate yet. Isaac made the tactical decision to grit his teeth and stay put.

“Olá, tudo bem?” The stranger motioned to the chair across from him. “Posso me sentar aqui?”

Portuguese, spoken at a low pitch and rapid pace, but Isaac understood enough. “No hay bronca,” he mumbled.

That did the trick. The stranger sat and gazed out the window, hands wrapped around the mug but not sipping from it. One by one, wary stares glazed over with indifference and disengaged. Breathing easier, Isaac turned his attention back to his food. Mostly. Between bites he snuck peeks at his uninvited guest. Smooth brown skin a couple shades lighter and warmer than his own. No ink, no mods, no scars or lines on face, neck, or hands. Early to mid-twenties, though one could never be sure. People tended to place him a few years over his actual age of twenty-nine—his grumpy attitude and habit of dressing like somebody’s abuelo threw them off, according to Elfy. Like Isaac’s hair, the stranger’s was black. Unlike his, it was combed and stylish, shorn close at the sides but left longer and tamely wavy on top. Even their brows didn’t have a strand out of place, thick and arched and providing a perfect frame for the unusual eyes that darted over and caught him.

Isaac choked a little on a piece of waffle. He coughed and swallowed, a hasty apology loaded on his tongue. Too late. A dimple reappeared along with the stranger’s smile.

“Você é local?”

He had the courtesy not to sigh. At least the rest of the place had resumed their own conversations so one more wouldn’t stand out. “No.”

“De onde você é? Você percorreu um longo caminho?”

“Eh…”

“Oh, desculpe! Você fala espanhol, não? How about English?”

“Sure.”

“I was asking you where you’re from. Sorry—the coast is the only place I get to speak Portuguese anymore, so I use it whenever I can.”

Coming from anyone less well-dressed, Isaac would’ve flagged the question as a prelude to robbery. Not that he had much worth stealing besides his tab and the pistol he’d left in his bag in the trunk. Well, they could swipe the six silver-tipped bullets the Coven had issued him in the side zipper pocket too. He’d tossed the rifle the rounds had come with into Lake Michigan years ago, though, so unless they had their own he didn’t see much of a point. Interesting conversation pieces maybe.

“I’m from Chicago,” said Isaac.

“And I thought I had a long trip!” A second dimple appeared to match the first. Combined with lips and a set of cheekbones won in a genetic jackpot, it really wasn’t fair. “Ah, sorry again. Maybe I should make introductions before attacking you with questions. I’m Renato, he and him. A pleasure to meet you.”

Isaac shook himself out of the daze that’d fallen over him and clasped Renato’s extended hand. Elfy would skin him alive if she found out an attractive stranger had crossed his path and he didn’t at least attempt friendliness. “Isaac, also he, him, his. So, um. I take it you’re not from the coast either?”

“Oh, no, though I travel up and down it for work sometimes. I just finished a job down in the Floodlands and I’m on my way up to Denver for another. No rest for the wicked, as they say.”

“What do you do?” Something illegal probably, but the ritual of small talk demanded he ask.

“Security for a research organization. I’ll be escorting someone from the city to a new project out here for a few weeks. Something about taking stock of marine life.”

“Like seeing how the fish population is doing, or looking for new species?” Hopefully not the mythical variety.

Renato’s shoulders rolled in an elegant shrug. “Oh, I don’t know the details. I’m only the muscle after all.”

Compact muscle. Isaac was willing to bet they’d come to the same five and a half-ish feet if they both stood—he might even beat Renato by an inch if he stopped slouching so much. He looked down at tan hands wrapped around the plain white coffee mug. Long fingers with short and manicured nails, prominent sinew under the skin, no nicks or bruises on the knuckles. Maybe he wore gloves when he punched people. Maybe he just carried a gun under that sporty jacket of his. Or, like Isaac, maybe he relied on negotiation instead of the skills he’d acquired on a shooting range (six months training followed by recertification every three years as required for all Coven researchers, plus blasting empty bottles or cans in a field for the fun of it sometimes). A face like Renato’s had to be a free pass to charm his way past a lot of obstacles.

“What brings you out to the western wilds, Isaac?”

“Well…something similar actually. I study big predators. Wolves and cougars mostly. Alligators once in a blue moon. I keep track of their movements and population sizes, births, deaths, habits, that sort of thing.” True, even if the predators in question spent most of their days on two legs and paying the bills just like him.

“Que coincidência. Do you enjoy your job?”

“Mostly, yeah. I get to travel a lot, see tons of interesting places, expand my horizons and all that.” Nevermind that if not for the Coven—and Elfy especially—he wouldn’t have made it through the past ten years without degenerating into a mat of depressed lichen on his sofa.

“Doesn’t your sweetheart…or hearts…get lonely with you away that much?”

Tension knotted between Isaac’s shoulderblades, but he managed to keep his face neutral. “I don’t have any to worry about. Turns out having a partner who isn’t home for weeks or maybe months at a time is a big turnoff for most people.” It’d definitely been a dealbreaker for Jeremy, who’d come to believe the long absences and great pay meant Isaac was secretly a smuggler kingpin. A couple of years after their breakup, the absurdity almost outweighed the pain.

“Love is a tricky thing to keep, isn’t it? Like a rare fish in an aquarium. Too much of one thing, too little of another, the slightest unplanned change in conditions—anything can wind up killing it, even when you pour everything you have into its care.”

Despite the dramatic delivery, Isaac found the corners of his mouth twitching with an urge to smile. “I take it you haven’t had much luck with romance either.”

“Alas, no. Despite the fact my ex-girlfriend and I grew up together and went on to work for the same employer as adults, we were terrible for each other. Selfish asshole and spiteful bitch isn’t a winning combination, as it turns out.”

Isaac’s eyebrows jumped up. “Is that how you’d describe yourself? An asshole?”

“All my critics agree, and that many people can’t be wrong. Selfish, easily bored, insincere, manipulative.” He ticked each condemnation off on his fingers and sighed. “Who knew a pretty paint job could hide so much rot within the walls.”

“Mm. Sure is a shame none of those qualities can be changed.”

Renato nodded, his eyes wide and sad. The little divots starting to form on either side of his mouth, though, suggested his critics had a point. “Isn’t it? Things are going much better in my current relationship, though, so perhaps there’s hope for me yet.” He dipped a hand into his jacket and pulled out a tab. “Do you want to see a picture of my darling Tes?”

The sinking sense of disappointment in his middle caught Isaac off guard, but he made himself nod. After a bit of scrolling, the tab was offered to him. Isaac stared at the candid picture on the screens, then glanced up at Renato, who had to cover a grin that broke containment with one hand. He returned to the image again to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

“She’s beautiful,” he said with a snort. “Did you buy her a castle or a cave?”

“Please. Meu amor deserves only the best—I got them a castle and a treasure chest that blows bubbles to decorate their tank. And I have no idea if Tes is a girl, now that you mention it. I’ve never bothered to look up if you can tell that sort of thing with goldfish.”

“Either way, I’m sure your ex is seething with jealousy.”

“She should be. I won Tes as a prize at a carnival game for her the night we had our final breakup fight.”

“I can see why fish like you better than people do.” He soothed away any sting the words might have carried with a smile, though.

“Oh, I’m told I can be charming company, at least in small doses.” Renato’s fingers were warm against his when the tab was passed back.

“You must be, if you have any ex at all. Not to mention your own panel of critics.”

“Such cruelty and judgement. You and her would get along great.”

“Do you have her contact info? Is she still single?”

“Sadism. Pure and simple. I can’t—” A notification ping interrupted. Whatever Renato saw on his screen put a dent between his brows.

“Do you have to go?” The drop was much steeper for his spirits the second time.

“No, no. It can wait.” The tab protested with another ping. “I’ve been driving nonstop since sundown, so I’m ahead of schedule really.” Eyes never straying from Isaac, Renato held down the device’s power button and slipped it back into his pocket.

Isaac’s hopes rose again with a flutter. They also stirred up the old post-breakup excuses he used whenever someone showed interest in him. One by one, though, he swatted them down. Two years since Jeremy. Almost five months since he and Jonah had desecrated some poor archivist’s office. He could let that stretch into three years…ten…twenty-five…an entire lifetime measured in loneliness.

Or.

He could take a step toward rebuilding his crumbling personal life. If he made a leap of faith here and he landed in a huge pile of disappointment, well, so what? He’d be driving up the interstate come morning regardless. If it went smoothly, he’d have an exciting story to share with Elfy as an extra peace offering over those drinks.

Isaac rested his chin in his hand and looked out the window. “So. Your car. Is it as nice on the inside as it is on the outside?”

To Chapter 2 >>