#tw: so much 1980s

[mariocki]

Blood Beach (1980)

"You got any opinions on it?"

"None that I'd care to say out loud."

"You and me both."

[cherub014]

🫵🫵 !!!!HEY YOU!!!! 🫵🫵

do you want to do research on true crime RESPECTFULLY but "can't find any good documentation :'(" about it??

😱😱✨ WELL I GOT NEWS FOR YOU!!! ✨😱😱

i found out about this AMAZING tactic called-

just read the fucking wikipedia article.

it's free, does not fetishize serial killers, and doesn't put any money in anyone's pocket. the articles are provided by people who want to educate, not profit.

stop watching documentaries that do not aim to educate, that do not help the families of those effected, that rather try to fetishize, glamourize, and pity horrible people who did horrible things.

researching true crime is something you must tread carefully on. you should be researching true crime from a viewpoint of wishing to learn. it isn't some fun drama to watch and observe like a circus.

"but wikipedia articles are too long and boring and i just want to hear the drama :((((" WATCH A FICTIONAL CRIME SHOW THEN. YOU SHOULDN'T BE MAKING A SPECTACLE OUT OF A TRAGEDY.

being curious of dark events in human history is normal, and educating yourself on WHY does this happen, is what will allow us to grow and adapt.

fetishizing a murderer and acting like they're a video game character blorbo is going to do NOTHING but hurt others and show you're a real piece of shit.

i'm tired. read the fucking wikipedia articles. stop giving money to shitty companies trying to profit off of tragedies that effect people to this day. thank you.

[artyandink]

the art of heresy | two

SUMMARY: Modern day, 2022, and you have no clue what’s going on. You knew what you went through. You knew it was real, but why were there people trying to convince you that everything that happened to you wasn’t real. Hell, you called bullshit. But you get your chance to fight back when you get a call at your door.

TW: psychological torture, trauma, angst, smut, drinking, consumption of drugs, smoking, mentions of sex, Ben (cause he’s an individual warning), it’s The Boys so be careful guys, really creepy shit, literal crack

STW: sex when high, brief hj I think unprotected sex (not advised)

A/N - divider by @chachachannah

Song Inspo: Look What You Made Me Do by Taylor Swift

V420

1980:

The snow crunched beneath your boots as you moved silently through the Russian forest, the cold biting into your skin despite the thick layers you wore. The trees around you were tall, dark sentinels, their branches heavy with snow. The sky above was a blank canvas of gray, promising more snow before the night was through. The air was crisp, your breath visible in the frigid temperature as you scanned the area for any signs of movement.

Beside you, Soldier Boy kept pace, his footsteps just as quiet as yours. He was a formidable presence, his broad shoulders clad in his signature uniform, the American flag emblazoned on his chest. His expression was one of grim determination, his jaw set as he surveyed the terrain with practiced ease.

"How much further?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly. There was a tension in his tone, an eagerness for the fight that was to come.

"Not far," you replied, your voice just as quiet. "They should be just up ahead."

You had been tracking this group of Russian soldiers for days, ever since your intel had confirmed their presence in the area. They were a small unit, but dangerous—armed to the teeth and highly trained. But you and Soldier Boy were more than a match for them. With your abilities and his strength, they didn't stand a chance.

As you approached the clearing where the soldiers were camped, you slowed your pace, motioning for Soldier Boy to do the same. You crouched low behind a snow-covered bush, peering through the branches to get a better look at the enemy.

There were five of them, huddled around a fire, their faces illuminated by the flickering flames. They were speaking in low tones, their words indecipherable from this distance, but their body language was relaxed, confident. They had no idea you were there, no idea what was about to hit them.

"What's the plan?" Soldier Boy asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You glanced at him, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I'll take out the two on the left. You handle the rest."

He nodded, a fierce grin spreading across his face. "Easy enough."

You closed your eyes, focusing on the soldiers across the clearing. You could feel the power inside you, a warm, comforting presence that was always there, just beneath the surface. With a thought, you reached out to the two men on the left, planting the seeds of your illusion in their minds.

When you opened your eyes, the men were already reacting to the images you had created. One of them jerked back from the fire, his eyes wide with fear as he stared at something only he could see. The other drew his weapon, pointing it at the empty space in front of him, his hands trembling.

"What the hell?" one of the other soldiers muttered, turning to see what had spooked his comrades.

That was Soldier Boy's cue. He sprang from his hiding place, moving faster than any normal human could, his fist connecting with the nearest soldier's jaw with a sickening crunch. The man crumpled to the ground, unconscious before he even hit the snow.

The remaining two soldiers reacted quickly, raising their weapons and opening fire, but Soldier Boy was already moving, a blur of motion as he dodged their bullets with ease. He grabbed the barrel of one soldier's rifle, wrenching it from his grasp before slamming it into the man's face. The soldier went down hard, blood streaming from his nose.

The last soldier tried to retreat, his hands fumbling for a grenade at his belt, but you were already on him. You moved silently, coming up behind him and placing a hand on his shoulder. He froze, his breath hitching in his throat as you leaned in close to whisper in his ear.

"Sleep," you murmured, your voice soft and soothing.

His eyes fluttered shut, his body going limp as he collapsed to the ground, fast asleep before he even realized what was happening.

Soldier Boy finished off the remaining soldiers with a few well-placed punches, making quick work of the men who had once seemed so threatening. When the last of them was down, he straightened up, wiping a bit of blood from his knuckles with a satisfied smirk.

"That was almost too easy," he said, glancing over at you.

You shrugged, your expression calm. "They never saw us coming."

He nodded in agreement, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—doubt, maybe, or concern. You weren't sure, and before you could ask, he turned away, surveying the fallen soldiers with a critical eye.

You joined him, scanning the area for any signs of life. But the soldiers were either unconscious or dead, their bodies lying motionless in the snow. It had been a clean operation, efficient and quick, just the way you liked it.

"Let's see what they were up to," Soldier Boy said, nodding toward the small tent at the edge of the clearing. "They had to be guarding something."

You followed him to the tent, your senses on high alert. There was no telling what you might find inside, but you were ready for anything. You always were.

Soldier Boy pushed aside the tent flap, stepping inside with you close behind. The interior was dimly lit, the only source of light a small lantern hanging from the center pole. The space was cramped, filled with supplies and equipment, but your attention was immediately drawn to the table in the center of the tent.

Spread out across the table was a map, marked with red circles and lines that crisscrossed the landscape. You recognized the area immediately—it was a map of the surrounding region, with key locations marked in red.

"They were planning something," Soldier Boy muttered, leaning over the table to get a better look. "Looks like they were setting up for a major operation."

You studied the map, noting the positions of the red circles. They corresponded with several small villages in the area, all of which were home to innocent civilians. Whatever the Russians were planning, it wasn't good.

"We need to stop this," you said, your voice firm. "If they launch this operation, a lot of people are going to die."

Soldier Boy nodded in agreement, his expression serious. "We need to move fast. There could be more of them out there, getting ready to strike."

You reached out, placing a hand on his arm to get his attention. "We can do this. But we need to be smart about it. We can't take on an entire army by ourselves."

He looked down at your hand, then back up at you, his eyes searching yours. There was a moment of silence, the tension between you palpable. But then he nodded, a grim smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Alright," he said. "What's the plan?"

You didn't hesitate. You had been in situations like this before, and you knew what needed to be done. "We split up. I'll head to the nearest village and warn them. You take out any enemy forces you find along the way. We'll meet back here when the job is done."

He nodded again, his expression resolute. "Got it. Just be careful, alright?"

"I always am," you replied with a small smile.

With that, you turned and left the tent, moving quickly and silently through the snow. The cold wind bit at your face, but you ignored it, your focus entirely on the task at hand. You had a village to save, and you weren't going to let anything stop you.

The village was small, a cluster of wooden houses huddled together against the cold. Smoke rose from the chimneys, a sign that the villagers were home, going about their lives, unaware of the danger that was closing in on them.

You approached cautiously, staying hidden in the shadows as you made your way to the nearest house. You needed to warn the villagers, but you couldn't risk alerting any Russian soldiers who might be in the area.

As you reached the door, you paused, listening for any sounds from inside. When you heard nothing, you knocked softly, praying that the occupants would keep quiet.

A moment later, the door creaked open, and an old woman peered out at you, her eyes wide with surprise. "Who are you?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

"I'm here to help," you said quickly, glancing over your shoulder to make sure you weren't being watched. "You need to gather everyone and leave the village. There's an attack coming."

The woman's eyes widened further, fear creeping into her expression. "An attack? But... where will we go?"

"Anywhere but here," you said firmly. "You don't have much time. Gather your family and anyone else you can find, and get as far away from here as possible."

She hesitated, her gaze flicking to the dark forest beyond the village. But then she nodded, her face set with determination. "I'll do it. Thank you."

She closed the door softly, and you moved on to the next house, repeating the process until you were sure that everyone in the village had been warned. It wasn't long before you saw people emerging from their homes, bundled up against the cold as they hurried toward the forest, their faces pale with fear.

You watched them go, relief washing over you. They would be safe, at least for now. But your work wasn't done yet.

As the last of the villagers disappeared into the trees, you turned and headed back the way you had come, your mind focused on finding Soldier Boy. You had to make sure he was alright, that he hadn't run into any trouble.

But as you neared the clearing where you had left the Russian soldiers, you heard the sound of gunfire echoing through the trees. Your heart skipped a beat, and you broke into a run, your feet slipping on the snow as you raced toward the source of the noise.

When you burst into the clearing, you saw Soldier Boy standing in the middle of the carnage, his fists bloodied and bruised. Around him lay the bodies of several Russian soldiers, their weapons scattered across the snow.

He looked up as you approached, a grim smile on his face. "Took you long enough."

You skidded to a stop beside him, your eyes scanning the area for any more threats. "What happened?"

"They had reinforcements," he said, wiping the blood from his knuckles on his uniform. "But I took care of them."

You nodded, your pulse starting to slow now that you knew he was safe. "The village is clear. The people are on their way out."

"Good," he said, his expression softening. "Let's get out of here before more of them show up."

You were about to agree when you heard the sound of footsteps crunching through the snow. You spun around, ready to fight, but then you saw them—dozens of Russian soldiers, emerging from the trees and surrounding you.

You cursed under your breath, your mind racing as you tried to come up with a plan. There were too many of them to fight off, even with your powers. And you couldn't risk using your illusions—there were too many minds to control, and you might not be able to maintain the illusion for long.

Soldier Boy stepped forward, his fists clenched, ready to take on the entire army if he had to. But you placed a hand on his arm, stopping him.

"Wait," you whispered, your mind working quickly. "I've got an idea."

He looked at you, his expression wary, but he nodded, trusting you.

You closed your eyes, reaching out with your mind to the soldiers around you. You could feel their presence, their thoughts a chaotic jumble of fear, anger, and confusion. But you focused, reaching out to the nearest one, planting a single, powerful command in his mind.

"Stop," you whispered, your voice firm and authoritative.

The soldier froze, his weapon lowering as he turned to his comrades, confusion written on his face. "Hold your fire," he said, his voice loud and clear.

The other soldiers hesitated, glancing at each other in uncertainty. You pushed harder, sending out the same command to each of them, overriding their instincts, forcing them to obey.

One by one, they lowered their weapons, their expressions blank as they followed your command. Within moments, the entire group was standing still, their weapons at their sides, waiting for further instructions.

You opened your eyes, breathing a sigh of relief as you turned to Soldier Boy. "Let's go. They'll stay like this for a while, but we need to get out of here before they snap out of it."

He nodded, clearly impressed. "You never cease to amaze me."

You smiled, the tension in your chest finally easing as you led him out of the clearing, leaving the soldiers behind.

“CUT!” The director yelled, which left you and Ben to relax a little bit as the crew clapped. “Excellent take, you two. Make your way to hair and makeup.”

“Who the fuck wrote this script?” Ben scoffed to you, running a hand through his hair. “I have half a mind to tear his fucking balls off.”

You raised an eyebrow, grinning. “Keep his nuts on in the meantime, eh, Ben? I’ll help you bust a nut when we’re outta filming later. I got a shipment of V420 from my guy in the labs. You know, the good stuff.”

“The good stuff.” Ben muttered, cracking a smile and slapping your ass briefly with a wink. “You’ve got my back, darlin’. Always know you do. Can’t wait to get high tonight.”

“The usual shit ain’t doin’ it.”

“It never does, doll face.”

“Touché.”

The door to Ben's hotel room slammed shut behind you, cutting off the cold, crisp air of the night. You were finally alone after a long day of chaos and combat. The room was small, but the heavy curtains and dim lighting made it feel like a secluded haven from the world outside. Ben had already cracked open a window to let some fresh air in, and the faint smell of cigarette smoke mingled with the sharper, more exotic aroma of V420.

You moved to the center of the room, pulling off your gear with practiced ease. Your muscles ached, a reminder of the day’s exertions. Ben, meanwhile, was already lounging on the bed, a satisfied grin plastered across his face as he rolled a joint of V420. His green eyes sparkled with mischief and excitement, the kind of look that always preceded some kind of trouble.

"Ready for this shit?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. The room was heavy with the scent of anticipation and a hint of the spicy herb he was about to light up.

You raised an eyebrow, your own grin matching his. "Hell yeah. I could use a fucking break."

Ben chuckled and tossed the joint to you. "Light it up, then. And don’t hold back."

You caught it effortlessly and took a moment to admire the intricate design Ben had rolled. He was a damn good roller, no surprise given his penchant for precision in everything he did. With a quick flick of your lighter, you ignited the end, taking a long, slow drag. The smoke was smooth and thick, swirling in your lungs with a pleasing warmth. You exhaled, the room filling with the rich, heady aroma of the compound.

Ben watched you with a predatory glint in his eyes, his own cigarette dangling between his lips. He leaned back on the bed, stretching his arms out and cracking his knuckles. "So, you think this will be enough to chill us out?"

You passed him the joint with a smirk, leaning against the wall as you watched him take his turn. His expression shifted to one of relaxed satisfaction as he inhaled deeply, the stress of the day visibly melting away. He exhaled slowly, the smoke curling around his head in a lazy dance.

"Fuck, yeah," he said, a rough edge to his voice as he offered the joint back. "This stuff always hits the spot."

You took it from him, your fingers brushing against his as you did. There was an electric charge in the air, a crackling tension that had been building since you’d first walked into the room. You could feel it in the way he looked at you, the way his body moved, the way the smoke seemed to heighten everything.

"Looks like we're in for a wild night," you said, your voice low and sultry as you took another drag. You could already feel the effects of the V420 starting to take hold, a heady, euphoric sensation spreading through your body.

Ben's gaze dropped to your lips, his own lips curling into a wicked smile. "You know, I’m always up for a bit of chaos. Especially with someone like you."

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound loud and brash. "Is that so? And what exactly do you have in mind, then?"

His eyes narrowed playfully as he pushed himself off the bed, closing the distance between you with a confident stride. "Well, considering how things went earlier, I’m thinking we might as well enjoy ourselves."

Before you could respond, Ben’s hands were on your waist, pulling you closer. The heat from his body was intoxicating, and you could feel the weight of his touch, the roughness of his hands contrasting with the softness of your skin. The joint was forgotten, dangling loosely from your fingers as his mouth found yours.

The kiss was fierce, demanding, a clash of rough edges and raw need. You responded eagerly, your arms winding around his neck as you pressed closer, deepening the kiss. His hands roamed over your back, his touch igniting a fire that you hadn’t realized was burning so hot.

"Fuck, you’re so goddamn irresistible," he muttered between kisses, his voice a rough growl. His hands slid lower, gripping your ass firmly as he pulled you up against him. You could feel his hard-on pressing against your thigh, and the sensation made you shiver with desire.

"Glad you fucking think so," you replied, your voice breathless as you tugged at his shirt, eager to feel his skin against yours. The V420 made everything feel more intense, more electric, and you were caught up in the heady mix of pleasure and adrenaline.

Ben’s hands moved to your shirt, yanking it over your head and tossing it aside with a growl. His eyes were dark with lust as he traced a path of kisses down your neck and chest, his rough stubble grazing your sensitive skin. Each touch, each kiss felt magnified, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

You moaned loudly, your fingers tangling in his hair as you tilted your head back, giving him better access. The world outside was fading away, leaving only the two of you and the intoxicating high of the V420. His hands explored every inch of your skin, his touch both rough and tender.

Ben’s shirt joined yours on the floor, and he pushed you gently toward the bed, his green eyes never leaving yours. "We might as well make the most of this."

You nodded, your heart racing as you fell back onto the bed. Ben followed quickly, his body pressing down on yours with a delicious weight. His kisses were relentless, his hands roaming over your body with a hunger that matched your own.

His pants were discarded in a hurry, and soon you were left with nothing but the heat of his body against yours. The room was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, muffled moans, and the occasional curse as Ben’s hands and mouth found every sensitive spot on your body.

You could feel the tension building between you, a delicious pressure that seemed to grow with every touch. Ben’s hands were rough and demanding, his kisses urgent and passionate. You responded in kind, your own hands roaming over his body, exploring every inch of him.

"Fuck, Ben," you gasped, your voice strained with pleasure. "I need you."

He growled in response, his green eyes flashing with a fierce intensity. "You’ve got me, baby. All fucking night."

And with that, he entered you, the sensation both overwhelming and exhilarating. The V420 made every touch, every movement feel magnified, and you were lost in the sensation of his body moving against yours. The world outside ceased to exist as you and Ben lost yourselves in each other, the room echoing with the sounds of your passion.

Hours later, you lay in bed beside him, the room now dark and quiet. The high from the V420 had faded, leaving behind a satisfying sense of relaxation and contentment. Ben’s arm was draped over you, his breath warm against your neck.

You turned your head to look at him, a small smile playing on your lips. "Not bad for a night’s work, huh?"

He chuckled softly, his green eyes meeting yours with a satisfied gleam. "Not bad at all. I think we make a pretty good team."

You nodded, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. "Yeah, I think we do."

For a moment, there was a comfortable silence between you, the intimacy of the night making everything feel just a bit more real. You had both been through a lot, and this night was just one more chapter in your shared story.

"Get some sleep," Ben said, his voice a low rumble as he pulled you closer. "We’ve got a lot more shit to deal with tomorrow."

NOW:

The bathroom was quiet, save for the faint hum of the ventilation fan and the soft drip of the faucet. You leaned over the sink, staring at your reflection in the mirror. The fluorescent lights cast a harsh, clinical glare over the room, illuminating the traces of wear and tear on your face. It had been a while since you had looked at yourself with such scrutiny, and the sight wasn’t comforting.

Your fingers traced the lines of age that etched themselves into your skin, each one a silent witness to the years you’d spent in the grip of Vought’s psychological hell. The scars were invisible but just as real—the remnants of the psychological torment that had twisted your mind and worn you down, year after year, decade after decade. You looked tired, though you had long ago lost the ability to distinguish between physical and emotional exhaustion.

The room was filled with the faint scent of antiseptic, mingling with the tang of old, stale air. You pulled the light blue towel from the rack, patting your face dry with a slow, methodical rhythm. Your hands were steady, but your mind was anything but. The feeling of loss—so deep, so profound—was a constant companion. You tried not to dwell on the what-ifs, the could-have-beens. Instead, you focused on the immediate, on the tangible.

There was a slight bulge under your shirt, a telltale sign of a once-shared joy that now felt like a cruel joke. You avoided looking too closely, the memory of its presence both a reminder of something you’d never fully understand and a painful absence that had left a hollow space in your heart. It was not something you talked about, not something you wanted to discuss. Not with anyone, especially not with Ben. The pain was yours alone to bear.

As you pulled your shirt back down, you heard the faintest knock on the door, a sound so subdued it might have been a figment of your imagination. But you knew better. Ben had a way of making his presence known without being intrusive, always respectful of your space while never completely backing off.

"Yeah?" you called out, your voice rough from disuse.

The door creaked open, and Ben’s tall frame filled the doorway. His green eyes scanned the room, taking in the scene with a mix of concern and curiosity. His face was etched with fatigue, his usually sharp demeanor softened by the events of the past few weeks.

"You decent?" he asked, his tone light but laced with an undercurrent of genuine worry.

You gave a curt nod, your gaze returning to your reflection. "Just taking stock. You know, having a moment."

Ben entered the room, his heavy boots thudding softly against the tile. His presence was a grounding force, but it also carried an air of unpredictability that had always been part of your dynamic. You could tell he was holding back, trying to give you space while also checking in.

"You doing alright?" he asked, his voice softer now. "I know shit’s been rough."

You glanced at him through the mirror, meeting his gaze briefly before turning back. "Been through worse," you said, forcing a grin that didn’t quite reach your eyes. "Just needed a break from the bullshit."

Ben didn’t push, though you could tell he wanted to. His eyes flickered with unspoken questions, but he remained silent, respecting your boundaries. He walked over to the counter, leaning against it as he lit up a cigarette, the smoke curling around his head like a ghost of the past.

"So, you got any plans for the day, or are you just gonna brood in here?" he asked, attempting to lighten the mood.

You snorted, shaking your head. "Plans? Hell, I’m just trying to figure out what day it is. Been so long, I’ve lost track."

"Tell me about it," Ben said with a wry smile. "Time’s been a real bastard lately."

You turned to face him fully, crossing your arms over your chest. "Yeah, well, that’s one way to put it. Seems like every time I think I’ve got a handle on things, life decides to throw another curveball."

He took a long drag from his cigarette, his expression thoughtful. "You know, back in Nicaragua when Payback had me, it felt like I was stuck in a loop. Like every minute was a replay of the last, just with a new layer of shit on top."

You chuckled cynically, shaking your head. "Fuckers don’t know when to quit. At least we’re out now, right? Got some breathing room. Hell, I could use some V420 round about now, but I’m pretty sure my guy’s dead.”

Ben gave you a bark of a laugh, his head tipping back slightly. “Fuck yeah, I could use some too. We’ve both been through the run of it, huh? I’d wanna kill them Russian dickless Commies if I see ‘em.

You wanted to kill Vought. The sense of freedom was often a deceptive one, a cruel illusion that hid the scars and the memories. You had your own demons to wrestle with, your own chains that didn’t vanish with a simple escape.

"Yeah, I get it," you said quietly. "It’s all just fucking complicated."

Ben flicked the ash from his cigarette, his gaze settling on you with a mix of empathy and frustration. "Listen, if you ever need to talk, or if there’s something you need—"

You cut him off with a wave of your hand, shaking your head. "I’m good, Ben. Really. I appreciate it, but talking’s not going to fix anything. Unless you’d rather not talk about it."

“Oh, I’ll take you up on that later, sweetheart.” He studied you for a moment longer, then nodded, seemingly accepting your words at face value. "Alright. But if you change your mind, you know where to find me. You’re my fuckin’ soldier, I can’t see you down. W-When we gotta fight."

You gave him a half-hearted smile. "Yeah, yeah. Now get outta here. I need some more time alone."

Ben made a show of saluting you with a mock-serious expression before heading for the door. "Don’t let the door hit your gorgeous ass on the way out. Or, you know, do. Whatever."

As the door clicked shut behind him, you let out a deep breath, leaning against the sink. The mirror reflected a woman who was both familiar and strange, the result of decades of fighting, surviving, and enduring. You saw a glimmer of something that was hard to pinpoint—hope, perhaps, or just the flicker of a flame that refused to go out.

You reached for the tap, turning on the water and letting it run over your hands. The cool liquid was a small comfort, a simple pleasure in a world that had become so complicated. As you washed away the grime of the day, you found yourself staring at the drain, lost in thought.

Ben’s words lingered in your mind, a reminder of the shared burdens you both carried. It was a twisted kind of solidarity, born from suffering and survival, but it was something you both understood. His presence was a reminder that, despite everything, you weren’t alone in this.

You dried your hands on a towel, the fabric rough against your skin. The bathroom was still quiet, the only sound the faint hum of the fan. You stood there for a moment, lost in the rhythm of your thoughts, trying to make sense of the fragmented pieces of your life.

With a final glance at your reflection, you turned and left the bathroom, ready to face whatever came next. You had survived the worst, and while the scars of the past would always be a part of you, they didn’t define who you were now.

You headed back into the main room, feeling a renewed sense of determination. Ben was right about one thing: sometimes it felt like a goddamn coffin. But at least you were fighting for a chance to breathe, to live, to find something resembling peace.

And as you walked through the dimly lit space, the remnants of the day fading into the background, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, there was a sliver of hope left after all.

The air in Hughie’s apartment was tense, a low buzz of anxiety humming beneath the surface of everyday routine. The dim light from the single lamp in the corner did little to dispel the shadows that clung to the room, mirroring the heaviness in your chest. The past had a way of catching up with you when you least expected it, and today was no exception.

Butcher stood by the window, his silhouette outlined against the faint glow of the streetlights outside. His expression was unreadable, the stern lines of his face etched deeply. You could tell he was struggling with how to deliver the news he had come to share. Hughie was perched on the edge of the couch, his eyes flickering nervously between you and Butcher, clearly uncomfortable but trying to maintain his usual demeanor of supportive calm.

"So, I reckon it’s time we talked," Butcher said, finally breaking the silence. His voice was gruff, but there was an undertone of something softer, something almost hesitant. "Hughie and I did some digging."

You shifted your weight, the old, familiar restlessness stirring within you. “Yeah? What’d you find?”

Butcher took a deep breath, his gaze locking onto yours. "We found Elizabeth’s daughter. Your niece, Georgia."

The name hit you like a punch to the gut. Elizabeth. Your sister. The memories were a maelstrom of regret and sorrow. The last time you had seen her, she had been holding a tiny newborn, a bundle of joy in her arms. The thought of Georgia, now grown, brought a strange mix of emotions crashing over you.

“Georgia,” you repeated, the name tasting foreign on your tongue. “She’s... she’s grown up now, isn’t she?”

“Forty years old,” Butcher said, his voice steady despite the weight of his words. “We managed to track her down. She’s living in a small town in Georgia. Thought you might want to talk to her.”

You glanced at Hughie, who gave you a small, encouraging nod. He looked as if he were holding his breath, waiting to see how you would react. You could feel the tension in the room, the unspoken weight of what this conversation meant.

You swallowed hard, trying to push aside the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. “Alright. Let’s give it a go.”

Butcher handed you a phone, the kind that looked like it had been pulled from the depths of an old drawer. You took it with trembling hands, the device feeling oddly heavy, as if it were laden with the ghosts of your past. You took a deep breath and dialed the number Butcher had provided.

The phone rang, each chime echoing the growing knot in your stomach. You could almost hear your own heartbeat in the silence between the rings. Finally, a soft, sweet voice answered on the other end.

“Hello?”

You hesitated, struggling to steady your voice. “Hi. Is this Georgia?”

“Yes, this is she,” the voice replied. It was warm, inviting, and filled with a quiet strength that made you want to hold on to it. “Who’s this?”

“It’s... it’s me. I’m your aunt.”

There was a brief pause, and then a breathless, almost incredulous response. “My aunt? Oh my God. I—I wasn’t expecting a call like this. It’s been forty years.”

You could hear the excitement and curiosity in her voice, mingled with a touch of apprehension. It was strange, this sense of distance you felt despite the familiarity of her voice. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t expecting to make this call. It’s been a long time, I know, but I can’t explain.”

Georgia’s voice softened, a gentle, almost comforting sound that made you want to pull away from the phone. “I understand. It must have been hard. I don’t know what’s happened, but my mom—Elizabeth—she told me so much about you. It’s good to finally hear from you.”

You struggled to keep your emotions in check, your fingers gripping the phone tightly. “Yeah, it’s... good to hear from you too. I remember when you were just a baby. Elizabeth... she had just had you. A tiny fuckin’ rugrat— sorry. Language, I know. I never thought I’d get to speak to you like this.”

A faint, nostalgic laugh came through the line. “I’ve heard so many stories about you. Mom always spoke of you with such love and admiration. I’m sorry I never got to meet you before.”

You nodded, though she couldn’t see you. “Well, life has a way of fucking things up. But here we are.”

There was a pause, and then Georgia spoke again, her voice carrying a note of genuine warmth. “I’ve been wanting to know more about you. About what happened. Mom told me bits and pieces, but it’s all so fragmented.”

You took a deep breath, your mind racing as you tried to find the right words. “Yeah, it’s a long story. Things haven’t been easy. You know, the usual—people trying to break you, make you lose yourself.”

“I can’t imagine,” Georgia said softly. “But I’m here now, and I’d love to hear more about you. About what you’ve been through. Maybe we can piece things together.”

There was something about her sincerity that made it difficult to maintain your hardened exterior. Despite your resolve, a lump formed in your throat. “Yeah, we can try. It’s just... it’s been a rough road.”

Georgia’s voice took on a note of encouragement. “I’m sure it has. But you’re talking to me now, and that means something. We can start from here and see where it goes.”

You chuckled softly, the sound tinged with sadness. “You’re a lot more optimistic than I am. But I appreciate it.”

“So, tell me,” Georgia said, her voice brightening with curiosity. “What’s your life been like? What have you been up to?”

You leaned back against the wall, trying to piece together the fragmented memories and experiences that defined you. “Well, I’ve been through a lot of shit, honestly. Nothin’ you need to worry that head about.” You wanted to be bitter at her softness and sweetness. You wanted to stand up and yell to her in the phone that life would cut you down and she should get herself as far away from everything as possible.

Instead, you cleared your throat. “Where are you at now, peanut?”

Georgia’s voice was steady, but you could hear the hint of a smile in it. “Well, I’ve had a pretty normal life, I guess. Got married, had a couple of kids. They’re grown now, off doing their own things. I’ve been working as a teacher, helping kids learn and grow.”

“Sounds like you’ve made a life for yourself,” you said, feeling a strange mixture of pride and something you couldn’t quite place. “That’s good.”

“I try,” Georgia said with a soft chuckle. “It’s not always easy, but I make it work. And hearing from you now, it feels like I’m finally getting a piece of the puzzle I didn’t know was missing.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of her words. “Yeah, I guess that’s one way to look at it. It’s strange, you know. I was there when you were born, and now you’re a grown woman with your own life. It’s hard to wrap my head around.”

“I can imagine,” Georgia said, her voice gentle. “But we can take it slow. One step at a time. I’d really like to get to know you, if you’re up for it.”

You could feel the sincerity in her words, and despite your usual resistance to emotional openness, you found yourself softening. “Alright, let’s do that. We’ll take it slow.”

“Thank you,” Georgia said softly. “I really appreciate it. It means a lot to me.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the conversation lift slightly. “Yeah, me too. I guess we’ll see where this goes. Holy fuck, peanut, you’ve got a life, a husband, kids. You sound so fuckin’ beautiful as well. Your mom always said you’d grow up pretty.”

Georgia was everything you weren’t.

©️ 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐤 / 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲’𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨

𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐝/𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝

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[lalalian]

anti shifters are actually worse than yall think

‘you’re mentally ill’ ’get help’ and then they try to explain why they’re being a whole ass bully with ‘but im just trying to help’

so if you think we’re mentally ill, why treat us like bugs… you wouldn’t tell a depressed person that they’re a weak ass piece of shit for being depressed, would you? you wouldn’t dox a person with dementia, would you? So are you trying to help, or are you trying to feel superior to us?

I’m gonna be honest, I wouldn’t harass a person who believed the earth was flat. I absolutely don’t believe the earth is flat; why? Not only bc it’s not destroying their lives, but because there are so many different tests to prove the earth isn’t fucking flat.

You can’t prove shifting isn’t real just as much as we can’t prove that it is real. I can’t bring a piece of a different dimension back to this reality, sorry!

‘but if shifting was real, wouldn’t this be a big breakthrough in science?’

TW: mention of babies undergoing surgery without anesthesia

…Humans discovered that babies could experience pain in the mid 1980s. The 20th century. Babies underwent surgery without anesthesia. Only muscle relaxants were provided to prevent them from thrashing around while they’re literally being cut open.

If someone were to say in the 1970s "babies literally can experience pain…"

"but wouldn’t that be a huge scientific breakthrough….?"

Did we have the same advanced technology in the 20th century as we do in the 21st century? No. We didn’t even think we would be able see to our fucking bones without hacking our flesh open until 1895. We didn’t have the same technology then. We won’t have the same kind of technology 100s of years from now.

Nobody is forcing you to believe in shifting. YOU are the one commenting, hating, dehumanizing people. Just because we can’t prove something with the technology we have now, doesn’t mean we won’t in the future.

Just because shifters believe in shifting doesn't mean we're a cult. There is no cult leader. People come and go from the shifting community like water and without shame. Nobody is shamed, doxxed, or outcasted by giving up shifting. Nobody has to pay to shift. People who haven't shifted aren't shamed. People who have shifted aren't better than those who have not, and instead of acting like they're better than anyone else, most just provide tips or post storytimes. Shifters aren't forcibly isolated from the outside world, and the vast majority of shifters have non-shifter friends (including me). Questions about shifting and the logistics of shifting are more than welcomed by the shifting community; people want to learn more about shifting. Nobody has unrelenting, unconditional loyalty to 'the leader'. Literally if a shifter is a piece of shit, they're called out on their bullshit. Shifting is not a means to better 'the leader', which, again, there is no leader. Who tf would even be the leader of the shifting community anyway...

ugh it makes me so angry when ppl call shifting a cult. literally, i saw one girl put up a chart on tiktok that LITERALLY CONTRADICTS HER CLAIM that shifting is a cult. but non-shifters in the comments were eating it up... did nobody look at the chart.........????????????????????

We do not have the means to prove shifting as of right now, well maybe besides for bringing back skills-- but yk besides that (even then I’m sure people would think we’re lying)

[yournowheregirl]

one hand, one heart

tw: mention of HIV/aids crisis and the general blatant (sometimes violent) homophobia of the 1980s

steve harrington loves musicals.

it’s something he inherits from his mother, something he always shared with her while growing up and his father is at work. she puts on hello dolly! on vinyl and sing along as she cooks, or my fair lady as she cleans out her closet, or the king and i as she does her morning crossword. 

steve doesn’t really get the songs at first, but his mother is patient with him, explaining the stories and characters of every musical and replaying his favorite songs when he asks and soon enough, steve finds himself singing and dancing alongside his mother, knowing each and every word. 

one night west side story is on tv and his mother allows him to stay up late since his father is away again. they’re huddled on the couch together, throw blanket in their laps and hot cocoa on the coffee table and steve can’t tear his eyes away from the screen. the costumes, the songs, the dancing, he just can’t look away, it’s all so pretty. 

the movie gets a bit scary at times. during the big fight scene, he squeezes his eyes shut and ducks away into the safety of his mother’s arms and when tony dies at the very end, there are tears rolling down his face. his mother tries to tell him that it’s just a story but steve knows one thing for certain now.

it’s dangerous to love someone who’s different. 

as steve grows up, his mother seems to have less and less time for him - now suddenly joined at her husband’s hip as he goes away on business trips - and their movie musical moments slowly fade away. but it’s fine, steve is at that age that people no longer find it cute when you know every word to don’t rain on my parade. no, when he tells people that, they look at him funny and whisper something that he can’t quite make out.

so he stops talking about musicals all together.

(he still listens to certain albums when he finds himself coming home in the big, empty harrington house once again. it’s comforting, almost like he’s hugging his mother again, but not quite as warm). 

he hides his love for musicals throughout most of high school. doesn’t even try out when the drama department is doing a rendition of bye, bye birdie, no matter how much he actually wants to. laughs and lies when tommy finds the sunday in the park with george album in the living room, saying the housekeeper must’ve misplaced it. acts all tough and aloof when nancy asks him to watch grease together, even though he’s watched it four times already. 

with all nightmares he gets during year after year of somehow surviving all that upside down bullshit, steve once again turns to musicals when he can’t sleep. usually it’s just a mixtape he made, consisting of his favorite songs that’ll sing him to sleep like a lullaby. but when the nightmares are particularly bad, he drags his duvet all the way downstairs, settles down on the couch and rewatches the sound of music until his eyes start to burn. 

no one knows about it. not even robin, even though steve think she might suspect a thing after he suddenly knew exactly who julie andrews was. and he had planned to keep it that way, until one night when he finds himself on the couch once again but this time, in the company of eddie munson. 

never in his life would steve have imagined that eddie munson would be one of his closest friends, but stranger things have happened. like dragging eddie’s lifeless body through the literal gates of hell and watching how he miraculously recovered from his near-fatal injuries. 

but it’s more than friendship at this point and steve is well aware of that. others may think of him as oblivious but he knows himself. he recognizes that fluttery feeling in his stomach, he felt it dozens of times before. he notices the way his face heats up when eddie calls him sweetheart and lets his hands linger a second longer than necessary. 

he knows damn well that he’s crushing on eddie munson and it scares him half to death. 

it’s movie night and they’re on the couch together. eddie is flipping through the channels when steve notices a very familiar scene. 

“wait, no. go back.” he says, gesturing towards the tv. eddie looks confused but complies anyway, until the opening scene of west side story appears on screen again. 

“you wanna watch this?” eddie snorts.

“yeah. it’s good.” 

“...right.”

steve is well aware that eddie is even more confused than before, but at least he doesn’t seem to question steve’s sudden interest in the movie. doesn’t tease him about it either, not when steve’s feet start tapping along to something’s coming all on their own and not even when he softly starts singing along to maria. 

it gives steve enough confidence to lean in during gee, officer krupke, barely able to hold in his laughter. “twenty bucks say you pulled shit like this with hopper at least once.”

eddie rolls his eyes, but smiles anyway and steve thinks he’s just made easy money, only for eddie to retaliate during i feel pretty. “twenty bucks say you pull shit like this in the mirror at least once a week.”

“fuck off, man.” steve mutters, bumping their shoulders together in an attempt to hide the pink flush that’s spreading across his cheeks. 

“no can do, stevie. that song is practically made for you.” eddie grins. 

he doesn’t pull away after that. stays right there, glued to steve’s side for the remainder of the movie, which makes it all the more difficult for steve to focus on whatever’s happening on screen. 

it’s a good thing steve knows this movie by heart already because it quickly becomes virtually impossible to focus on anything other than eddie when he notices eddie’s hand moving closer and closer towards him on the couch. and as soon as he feels eddie’s pinky finger curling around his own, steve’s pretty sure his brain goes static at the mere feeling of eddie’s calloused fingers against his skin.

now, it has been said that steve is the bravest one out of all of his friends - always throwing himself in danger headfirst to protect the others - but steve can still feel his heart beating in his throat as he lifts his palm and links his and eddie’s hands together. it shouldn’t be as scary as facing a demogorgon, but it’s still the most courageous thing he’s done in a long time. 

with one small, almost insignificant movement, steve can suddenly feel eddie’s eyes on him. feels his gaze burning into his skin, though he doesn’t have enough courage anymore to look back at him. instead, he lets outs a shuddering breath and tries to pay attention to the story again. 

and even though holding eddie’s hand seemed scary at first, steve soon comes to the conclusion it’s the best decision he’s made in a logn time because it’s just so fucking nice. their hands fit perfectly together and it gives him something to hold onto. an anchor of some sorts to get through the last few emotional scenes of the movie. 

eddie’s hand keeps him grounded, keeps him from bursting into tears when tony dies like he did the first time he watched it with his mom. still, that scene does something to him. hits him right in the gut and he can feel himself stiffen as maria finds tony’s lifeless body on the ground. eddie must notice it too, because he squeezes steve’s hand a little tighter, runs his thumb across steve’s knuckles, helps him stay in the moment.  

not much later, the credits appear on the screen and steve knows he no longer has an excuse not to look back at eddie. he takes a deep breath and glances to his left and- yup, grave mistake because eddie’s gaping at him, with his dark doe eyes even bigger than usual. 

still, steve can’t look away, even though the silence between them stretches longer than it should be. he should say something. anything. ask if he wants something to drink. if he wants to watch another movie. if he-

“steve?”

“yeah?”

“can i kiss you?”

steve just blinks at him, a response of any kind dying on his tongue. fear creeps up on him - what if he’s dreaming, what if eddie doesn’t mean it, not in the way steve wants him to, what if-

but he was brave before, he can be brave again. he meets eddie’s eyes and nods, trusting his body just enough to take over and say what his words can’t. 

as soon as he feels eddie’s lips pressed against his own, steve is hyper-aware of every sensation - the lingering taste of diet coke, the slight stubble on his chin, the loose curl that brushes against his cheek. he almost feels like he’s floating, like the fluttering feeling in his stomach has lifted him up and transported him to a world where it’s just eddie and his lips gliding in synch against his own and it feels so, so good.

okay, screw the hand holding - this is the best decision steve’s ever made.

as eddie moves closer and tilts his head to the side to deepen the kiss, steve’s hand find its way to eddie’s chest. he lets it linger over eddie’s heart, almost as if he’s trying to make sure that this is really happening. that eddie is here and he’s alive and he’s kissing him.

it’s only their first kiss but steve decides then and there that he doesn’t want another day go by without kissing eddie. doesn’t want another go by without eddie in it, period.

fuck. this is more than just a crush, isn’t it? this is so much more than that. this is almost like love. this is... this is a lot.

and that’s when it hits him. the message that’s been burned into his brain ever since he saw west side story for the first time - that loving someone who is different is dangerous.

not because he plays a fantasy game that no one seems to understand. not because he listens to metal and sold drugs in his spare time. not because he got falsely accused of murder and the whole town looks at him with disdain.  

it’s dangerous simply because it’s another guy. 

steve’s not stupid. he reads the newspaper, he watches the news, he knows all about the protests and the hate crimes and the thousands of innocent people dying of a disease that no one seems to care enough about to help. 

it’s terrifying to love someone when the entire world seems to be against you.

he doesn’t even realize he’s crying until he tastes the saltiness of his own tears and feels eddie pulling away from him. eddie’s eyes are filled with worry and that’s somehow enough to break steve, the tears just keep coming and coming with no end in sight.

“hey, hey, look at me.” eddie says softly, his hands gently cupping steve’s face. “did i do something wrong? what’s going on, baby?”

steve shakes his head, unable to form any words just yet. there are just tears and sobs and terrifying thoughts of what would happen to them if one of them- no, he doesn’t even want to think about that, it’ll only make him more upset. 

“okay, take your time. i’m here.” eddie mutters. he presses a kiss to steve’s forehead, his hands never once leaving steve’s face. 

the tears slowly but surely stop after that and steve somehow manages to regain control of his voice, even though it’s raspy and broken.

“it’s just... i just like you so much and it makes me so fucking scared. because what if...” he swallows the lump in his throat again, gasping for air. “what if we end up like them? what if we end up like tony and maria? it just takes one wrong move and we’re- you could- i can’t lose you, eddie.”

“then we’ll go somewhere safer. we’ll go to chicago, or new york, or, or, literally anywhere you wanna go where you feel safe.” eddie says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. his thumbs wiping away the tears on steve’s cheeks. “it’s like that movie said, y’know. ‘there’s a place for us, somewhere a place for us. peace and quiet and open air waits for us, somewhere.’”

steve’s eyes widen. he blinks once, twice, almost feeling speechless. “you know this musical?”

“i may have seen it before. i was in the drama club after all.” eddie shrugs, but when steve looks at him in disbelief, he sighs and adds: “okay, maybe i rewatched it because i was bored on a saturday once. it’s a good movie.”

“it really is.” steve nods, a small smile playing on his lips.

“we’re gonna be okay, y’know.” eddie assures him. “we survived literal hell, what’s a few bigots in comparison to that?”

steve nods, and as his tears are starting to dry, he’s finally starting to believe that that eddie means it. that he wants him, that he wants them, that he wants a future, together. and that might just be just enough reason for steve to lean back in again and kiss eddie with every ounce of his being, slow and warm and deep until all his worries float away and eddie is the only thing left on his mind.

(and later on, when eddie’s whimpering ‘steve’ over and over and over again, steve fully understands what tony meant when he sang that a name could almost sound like praying)

hi friends! it’s been a damn minute, i’ve been dealing with one hell of a writer’s block but this just appeared outta nowhere so i hope you enjoyed! thanks as always to @legitcookie & @sidekick-hero for their endless support as i went through the five stages of grief every time i attempted to write ilyyy <3

[scoutswritingcorner]

The Hotel

Charlie Morningstar x GN!Reader

HORROR.

TW: THIS IS A HORROR STORY- IT HAS DARK THEMES. IF YOU DO NOT LIKE IT, DO NOT READ IT. Uncanny Valley effect, there is no good ending, Lost media kinda deal. Body horror.

A/N: I’ve been watching too much lost media/analog horror type of stuff for my own good.  ENJOY~

You are an Urban Explorer who has a very popular channel. You got word of this old Hotel that’s supposedly haunted but you're more interested in how it looks on the inside. Turns out to be your final resting place.

~~

You pulled to a stop in the wooded area near the desolate town, quickly turning your vans lights off and pulling the keys out of the ignition as a police car slowly drove by as you snuck into the back of the van pulling your bag closer and making sure that you had everything. Strapping the small hidden camera to your chest before pulling out your phone and starting the livestream, your viewers slowly start to trickle in as you patiently wait for the cops to stop roaming around where your car is, too afraid to say something. But you slowly take a deep breath and collect your things, trying to make sure if you needed to run or climb over anything nothing would be holding you down.

Slowly pulling the duffle bag over your shoulder, you checked your phone once more before quickly turning off any sound notifications that could get you caught and sent one last text to your roommate and dad, before putting it away and into your pocket as you carefully left the comfort of your own vehicle. You locked and closed your van before slowly and carefully making your way towards the silent town, weaving through alleyways as you dodge the police and making your way towards the brightly lit hotel that sat on top of the hill. “..sorry for not talking to you guys, I don’t want to be caught” You whispered out as you quickly walked up the hill, trying to stay away from the bright lights of the path leading towards the hotel itself. You’ll check your phone once you get inside.

As you get to the front door of the hotel, you send a glance back towards the city to see the cops still patrolling the town, it wasn’t worth going back down, you were so close to what you’ve been dreaming about for months…but..you never knew about this place…why did you dream about it? You slowly opened the door expecting to be greeted by ruined furniture, walls lined with graffiti, broken things strewn around and nature reclaiming what was left of this hotel but..it looked brand new…well except for the tech stuff that looked like it came out of a 1980’s catalog…this was weird. First the townspeople were basically hostile towards you and when you asked about the hotel they shut down, some even pulling a weapon on you. 

You closed the door behind you, fixing your jacket as you took a step forward the scent of a freshly smoked cigar hit you as if you walked through a cloud of it. You looked around, stepping further into the hotel to your left was a bar with an assortment of liquor on the wall behind it, to your right was what looked like to be the foyer. 

“Oh! Hello!” A voice called from behind you making you jump and turn around dropping your bag on the floor. You cursed yourself and hoped your equipment wasn’t damaged. “H-Hi..I thought this place was abandoned..” you replied smiling, something felt off about her but you couldn’t seem to figure out what. “Oh no silly!~ Most of them are already asleep in their own rooms or just busy!” A sense of comfort washing over you as jazz starts playing down the hall causing you to look away from her. Unaware of her eyes snapped down to the camera strapped to your chest and her smile grew wider.

“Someone..awake?” You asked, looking back at her and crouching down to grab your duffel bag. “Oh yes! That would be the hotelier, he likes to listen to jazz as he works. It won’t bother you will it?” She asked and you shook your head watching as she looked around, “give me one moment okay?” She asked turning to head into an office…was that always there? You looked down and quickly checked your phone to see it was 3:30 am?? It just turned 12:00 when you left your Van, that didn’t seem right. Looking up as she walked back over and quickly getting you a room, her smile grew as she handed you the key, “If you need anything else don’t be afraid to call down to the front desk!~” She called after you, smirking as you unknowingly sealed your fate.

You looked down at the key, the room number '204' staring back at you. It wouldn’t hurt to stay the night, it beats sleeping in your van than anything. Sleeping on a bed will do wonders to your back too! As you went up the stairs, it seemed someone rushed past you with a sweet smelling perfume which made you do a double take..no one walked past you? You stopped and looked around before continuing up the stairs..that was strange.

It didn’t take you long to find your room and get set up for the night, as you looked around it had occurred to you that something about this place felt..off. The spear above your bed was certainly off putting, was it real or fake? You placed your bag down onto the bed, opening it up fast to make sure you didn’t break anything.

~~~

It’s been days since you’ve been at this hotel, at first you thought you were there for that single night but you haven’t. The footsteps got louder but now it was someone knocking on your door and a pile of dead bugs littered at your door. You started the camera that sat patiently on the desk in front of your bed, the red light on it slowly flashed as it began to record. A sinking feeling sat in the pit of your stomach as you stared back at yourself in the mirror..when did you become so sickly looking? Quickly you packed up, shook your head and grabbed the key to your room, “Just in case,” you whispered out “Just in case.”

You slowly made your way to the door ignoring the literal mountain of bugs next to your bathroom door. You slowly opened your bedroom door and peeked out seeing..no one. No one was around yet there was a distinct smell of that perfume that lingered way too long on the staircase. Another difference was that the lights were off and the wallpaper started to peel like the hotel was left abandoned for decades. A soft and distorted tune started to echo around the empty hotel, you moved to the railing of the gigantic staircase and slowly made your way down throwing the bag over your shoulder as you tried to ignore the creepy distorted music and creaking stairs.

As you reached the bottom of the stairs you slowly and carefully started to walk towards the front desk placing the room key on its surface before moving towards the front doors themself.  Your hand wrapped around the golden door handles as you moved to open the doors..but they wouldn’t budge. How were they locked, you couldn’t be locked in here without anyone knowing. 

“Leaving so soon?” A distorted voice called out as you slowly turned around, facing the woman you met a few nights ago. But something was wrong, her face looked..too human- too unnatural. “Oh uh..yeah..I have to go.” You said trying to ignore how suddenly it felt like there were a million eyes on you, your breath hitched in your throat as the lady's bones snapped and reformed into longer limbs and horns protruded from her head. “Why don’t you stay just a little bit longer?” she asked but her mouth didn’t move as if someone was pulling the strings..giving her a voice to use. You looked around her, trying to see if there was a way to get past her and back to your room safely. 

You shook your head watching the hotel fall into disrepair in front of your very eyes. You took one last deep breath before throwing yourself into a sprint down the hallway and up the flight of stairs, a loud inhuman roar echoed through the hotel as you tried to open one of the many emergency exits. It was locked just like the front door, you silently cursed to yourself and made your way to the staircase to go higher up. Your legs and lungs started to burn as the once comforting smell of the perfume turned sour as something ran into your legs knocking you face first into the flight of stairs.

A sickening crack echoed through your head, you grabbed your camera and climbed up the steps as blood coated your tongue and dripped onto the old mold covered shag carpets. Throwing the bag down you forced yourself to keep running up the million flights of stairs this fucked up hotel had. You couldn’t look back and you couldn’t stop, if you stopped you would die. She knew where you were and she wouldn’t stop until she got you.

You slammed onto the fire exit door at the top of the stairs..once..twice..she was getting closer. That foul lingering smell wafted through your broken nose and it made you gag loudly as you looked down to see her staring back at you. Body visibly mutilated as her sunken eyes glared up at you, drool dripping from her maw. You slammed into the door and fell onto the roof as she stalked closer and closer to you- her prey. You scrambled to get up but stopped to see a large red pentagram that outlined the city.

You didn’t stare for long as long black claws wrapped around your ankle, digging into flesh and shattering bone as it dragged you back into the hotel. Your chin hit the ground as you tried to claw and beg whatever god was there to help you. The camera you were holding shattering upon impact as the door slammed shut behind you and your screams were forever silenced.

A/N: SORRY IF THIS FEELS RUSHED- I kinda did rush it cause I wanted to get this out to you lovely people. But I hope you enjoyed it and Happy Pride month!~

[gallifreyanhotfive]

Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 43

Tw: some description of post mortem decay

Tegan once found herself in the mid-1980s. While here, she had an encounter with a rather stroppy teenaged waitress. This waitress was named "Dorothy." (Novel: The Crystal Bucephalus)

During funerals on Venus, the brain of the deceased is cut up and eaten by those attending. This was a way the deceased could live on as they would gain the deceased's memories this way. The First Doctor could take this in stride, but Barbara and Ian were a bit disturbed by it. (Novel: Venusian Lullaby)

Rassilon feared for the survival of the Time Lords so deeply that he sent biogenic molecules back in time that would force all life forms in the universe that were affected to evolve into something similar to what was the Gallifreyan standard. This is why so many species look similar. (So Time Lords don't look human...Humans look like Time Lords, just as Trions, Trakenites, etc etc do, because Rassilon interfered with their natural evolution). (Audio: Zagreus)

The Doctor's previous selves maintain awareness in their subconscious, and for a while, the Doctor would keep some of them imprisoned in their mind. For example, the Fifth Doctor was kept in chains in a pit. (Novel: Timewyrm: Revelation)

They also kept the Sixth Doctor imprisoned very deep inside the Doctor's mind for fear of the Valeyard. (Novel: Head Games)

Indeed, the Seventh Doctor started having dreams that his Eighth would lock him in a "room with no doors" after their regeneration. (Novel: The Room With No Doors)

The design for the Mondasian Cyberman was based off of a body scan of the Fifth Doctor. (Audio: Spare Parts)

By some accounts, Liz Shaw died of Agent Yellow, which is a virus that turns oxygen into sulfuric acid somehow. (Novel: Eternity Weeps)

The Fatkats are a race of giant, intelligent cats. They sometimes keep humans as pets. Rory was kidnapped by a Fatkat and given to his kid as a gift, and the kid renamed him Cuddles. The Eleventh Doctor and Amy eventually convinced the Fatkats to help them free Rory, and as a thank-you gift, he left them a life-sized stuffed Doctor doll for them to play with. (Comic: Humans Aren't Just For Christmas)

The Tenth Doctor once wrote a letter to the Brigadier, saying he felt guilty for not visiting and that he was thinking of him. When the Brigadier died, this letter was found lying on his bedside cabinet as though he had just been reading it. Thus, it is likely that the Doctor’s words were the last he ever read and that he might have even passed thinking about his old friend. (Novel: The Time Lord Letters)

When Time Lords die, their TARDISes do as well. (Audio: The Axis of Insanity)

The Axis is a place in interdimensional space that holds together and regulates all damaged timelines to prevent the contamination from spreading. Time Lords typically aren't welcome since they are responsible for most aberrant timelines, but one was sent to investigate when Jarra To took over. This Time Lord was later found by the Doctor, oozing pus and covered in roaches after being murdered by Jarra To. (Audio: The Axis of Insanity)

One time after stumbling on alien invaders, the Eighth Doctor and Charley used their acting skills to save the day. Charley became Lady Charleyostiantayshius, a Gallifreyan observer, and the Doctor became a transcriber from the High Council, who is pretty much Lady Charleyostiantayshius's excitable if a bit bumbling companion. They both wear the proper Gallifreyan regalia, and Charley was so good at her act that the Doctor thought she made a better Gallifreyan than he did. The Doctor convinces the captain of the alien fleet that there is a plague and gives him large quantities of the "vaccine," which is actually just straight up alcohol, so the captain gets wasted. (Audio: Living Legend)

The Doctor's memory of his first two incarnations is hazy, to say the least. (Audio: Cold Fusion)

Patience regenerated into a female form only after meeting the Fifth Doctor. The description of their prior incarnation is ambiguous in that regard. (Audio: Cold Fusion, Novel: Cold Fusion)

Peri was infected with a virus that copied all of her DNA and turned anyone she touched into a clone of herself. This included the Fifth Doctor, who started at first by repeating what Peri said and then became her. Based on the classic Big Finish noises that accompanied this, the change is graphically painful (Audio: Mission of the Viyrans)

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[hbyrde36]

Caught in the Undertow

Hi, 👋 Welcome to another old fic made new again! I promise this is my last re-write, but in similar fashion to Times Like These I found myself fixated recently on giving this fic the more practiced hand it deserves. I hadn't planned on posting much about it until the full re-write was done, but with the Steddie big bang deadline rapidly approaching, it's going to take a little longer than I thought. (And being a slut for encouragement, I figured why not start sharing the first 5 redone chapters now while I work on the rest, in hopes someone will enjoy it.)

Summary:

Against all odds, Steve Harrington saved Eddie Munson from certain death. And Eddie doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forgive him for it.

Chapter One

WC: 1980 | R: Explicit | TW: Suicidal ideation/depression | Ch 1/10 | AO3

~Eddie~

On some level, Eddie had always sort-of wanted to die. 

He never planned it out, and he wouldn’t actually do anything about it—probably—but he fantasized about it a lot. 

Which was maybe something he should unpack with a therapist at some point, but that type of thing wasn’t really in the budget for a kid who lived in a trailer park and sold a little weed on the side for extra cash.

Sometimes, on the really bad nights just before falling asleep, he found himself wishing, praying even, not that he really believed in such things, to just not wake up again. And deep down he knew that if he were ever faced with the opportunity to bow out, so to speak, especially in a way that wouldn’t burden anyone—bonus points for a blaze of glory—he’d take it.

The idea came to him as he was helping Dustin to climb up the sheet rope and into the safety of the right-side-up, the thumping sound of the bats throwing themselves into the sides of the trailer, trying so desperately to get in, grating on his already frayed nerves.

It had truly been the week from hell. 

He was cold, dirty, and scared. Overwhelmed with the new reality he’d been forced to accept with exactly zero time to process, and having to come to terms with the fact that there’d been a whole other world existing right under his feet for fucking years, all while on the run from the cops, as well as a community calling for his head on a pike. 

It left him with that all too familiar feeling—weary down to his bones in a way that no nap or good night’s sleep could ever cure.

It wasn’t even a debate in his mind.

Eddie pulled his switchblade out from one of the many pockets on the snazzy green vest Harrington had picked up for him from The Warzone, and slashed the rope, ensuring that Dustin couldn’t follow him—ensuring the kid’s safety before rushing out into the dark to lead the bats away.

Life sure was funny, he thought wryly as he mounted one of the bikes they’d left behind during their last jaunt into the Upside Down, it can take you to places you never even dreamed of, and yet you’ll still wind up exactly where you’re meant to be. 

He peddled as fast as he could, trying to get the bats as far away from the gate as possible.

This was it, the chance he’d always longed for, and at least this way he could leave knowing his life meant something. His sacrifice would keep Dustin safe, keep the demobats out of their world, and buy more time for Harrington and the girls to kill Vecna.

It was a win-win.

And really, what sort of life would he be going back to anyway?

Devil worshiper, cult leader, freak, murderer. It was too many labels, too many things to overcome, just too much, the way he’d always been too much. Too loud, too different, too broken for anyone to want to get too close. 

Worse—when he wasn’t busy being too much, he wasn't enough. Not smart enough, clearly. Who takes this many tries to graduate high school? Not a good enough son, if his parents dumping him on Wayne’s doorstep and never looking back was any indication.

Wayne.

Thinking of the older man caused a brief stab of guilt. Uncle Wayne would be sad when he was gone, no question. The old man wasn’t shy about his love for his only nephew, but honestly this was for the best for him too. One less thing to worry about, and one less mouth to feed. It couldn’t have been easy on his uncle all these years. Raising a kid was never easy, surely, let alone raising someone else’s, but Eddie had no doubt that he’d posed an especially unique challenge.

It wasn’t long before Eddie’s legs failed him, exhaustion making them feel like lead, slowing his pace to the point that the bats were right on his tail, the bulk of the swarm a swirling black cloud above him. One of the little fuckers peeled away from the group, swooping down to knock him from the bike. He flew over the handlebars, hitting the dirt hard, rolling several times before coming to a stop and scrambling back to his feet. 

Eddie screamed his pain at the advancing hoard, banging his shield and raising it against the onslaught of gnashing teeth and beating wings. 

He stood his ground. 

He didn’t give up.

He fought to the very end, until he was overtaken and brought to the ground, laid out like a feast for his unsightly foe.

Later—minutes or hours he had no sense of time anymore, as he lay there dying, soaking the ground beneath him as he bled out, Eddie wondered at his own actions. It must have been a reflex, some long dormant base instinct to survive popping up at the last second, because why else would he fight so hard when it would have made more sense to not? When the writing was on the wall, when this was what he wanted?

Eddie had wanted this.

Hadn’t he?

~Steve~

Steve was soaring. 

He was fucking ecstatic. 

They did it, they’d killed Vecna. 

They fucking won for once, their years-long nightmare finally over for good. 

He, Nancy, and Robin smiled at each other, laughing in hysterical relief as they bounded down the crumbling old steps of the Creel house, the criss-crossing vines that decorated nearly every surface laying dead and dormant. 

The walk back to Forest Hills was spent recounting every detail of their battle. Each one of Nancy’s expert shots, and every molotov cocktail that Steve and Robin had thrown. So sure he was that their little group had had the most dangerous job, save for maybe Max, it didn’t even cross Steve’s mind to worry about the others just yet. He couldn't wait to see Dustin's face, to celebrate this victory with him and the rest of the twerps. 

It wasn’t until they were nearly back to the trailer that he realized something had gone terribly, horribly wrong.

He heard Dustin’s cries long before he saw him, and Steve didn’t hesitate to take off running as fast as his legs would carry him in the direction of the sound, trusting that the girls would follow. 

Steve’s heart dropped when the scene finally came into view—Dustin with his head bowed, sobbing as he knelt over the lifeless body of Eddie Munson.

“What happened?” Steve asked, skidding to a stop at their side, dropping to his knees next to the younger boy.

“H-he said he was gonna buy more time. The bats started getting into the trailer and he made me go through the gate first—he made me—and then he cut the rope and then he—” Dustin's voice shook, his eyes shining and red rimmed as he raised his head to meet Steve’s gaze. “He’s gone.”

Those two words broke something inside Steve. 

He couldn't allow this, wouldn’t accept it. They fucking won goddamn it. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. If any one of them wasn’t going to make it out of this place alive, it should have been him, not Eddie.

“Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Steve bent over the prone figure, listening closely for any signs of breathing while pressing his fingers to Eddie’s neck to check for a pulse. He found neither at first but didn’t let that deter him. Eddie’s skin was still warm and Steve's hands were shaking, his own heartbeat pounding so loudly in his head that it could feasibly be drowning out signs of life.

He gently nudged a still silently weeping Dustin aside and began CPR. 

“What can I do?” Robin asked from his left. She and Nancy must have finally caught up, he hadn’t even heard their approach. 

Steve kept an even rhythm, concentrating all his effort on his compressions as he replied. “Find something to wrap his side, I think that’s where most of the blood is coming from. Then take Dustin back through the gate and call an ambulance. I want them waiting on the other side before I try to move him.”

Robin quickly jumped into action, slipping her jacket off to remove her button down, and with Dustin’s help began working it around Eddie’s middle.

“Steve," Nancy whispered his name, carefully, gently. She was kneeling down on Eddie’s other side, her ear practically pressed to his mouth. "He’s not breathing and he’s lost a lot of blood. I’m sorry, but did he even have a pulse when you got here?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said immediately.

“Steve–”

“Just go! Please, Nance.”

Steve wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Robin finally came back, and if Dustin had put up a fuss at being made to leave, he hadn’t heard any of it. His entire focus narrowed down to his hands on Eddie’s chest, pumping, his eyes locked on Eddie’s face as he counted to thirty, the taste of blood on his lips as he administered rescue breaths. 

Lather, rinse, repeat… 

“The ambulance is five minutes out, how do you want to do this?”

He could have kissed her in that moment—in the most sisterly way of course. 

She didn’t waste any time questioning if they should be doing this, or if Eddie’s condition had improved. Accepting that Steve had made up his mind and she was going to do everything in her power to help him make it happen. 

The thing was, Steve had felt a faint tap against his fingers the last time he’d checked, and he was 99% sure Eddie did have a pulse now, even if he hadn’t before, and it could have been his imagination but he could have sworn he heard the other boy take a few shallow breaths on his own too.

Together, he and Robin hauled over a piece of discarded corrugated metal, moving Eddie onto it as gently as possible, using it like a stretcher to carry him back to the trailer. 

Getting him through the gate was a bit trickier. Even more-so with the rope being cut, but Robin and Nancy had shoved a bunch of furniture under the hole in the ceiling, and Steve somehow managed to climb up the precarious tower one-handed while balancing their unconscious friend on his back.

When they made it to the other side, Steve carried Eddie in his arms all the way to the ambulance doors, insisting on riding along with them to the hospital. He must have been a sight, sweaty and out of breath, covered head to toe in muck and the other boy’s blood. The EMTs didn't even argue, except to insist Dustin come along too once they noticed his limp. 

Robin and Nancy followed behind in the RV, promising to pick up the others on their way so everyone could regroup at the hospital.

Things changed drastically once they arrived at Hawkins General, and the staff realized just who their patient was. Thankfully the paramedic in the ambulance had managed to stabilize Eddie before he was recognized. Steve shuddered to think about what might have happened otherwise.

Though unconscious and in critical condition, Eddie was treated like the dangerous criminal the whole town thought he was—handcuffed to his hospital bed, and an officer posted up at his door. 

No visitors allowed. 

Once Dustin was released, ankle wrapped and with orders to take it easy for a few weeks, their group was asked in no uncertain terms to leave. Told that no updates would be given on the suspect's condition.

Suspect. 

Steve wanted to throw up, but at least Eddie was alive. 

Chapter 2

Thanks and love to @penny00dreadful and @pearynice for all your help and encouragement with this.

Permanent taglist(open): @penny00dreadful @pearynice @hitlikehammers @bookworm0690 @wonderland-girl143-blog 

@goodolefashionedloverboi @themagicalari @awkwardgravity1 @rocknrollsalad

P.S. Taglist friends, I know this one might not be for everyone, if you'd prefer I not tag you in this fic pls let me know, I totally understand 💜

[silly-inky]

Hazbin Hotel Characters Ages

TW: mention of death, drugs, alcohol, guns

So I got bored and wondered about the ages of some of the Hazbin Hotel characters, so here is the information I gathered, this also includes their theorised causes of death as well

Just be aware that some of this information may not be the most accurate so if I get something wrong do forgive me

Anyways

Charlie is in her 200’s, she doesn’t exactly look it, but she is immortal and her parents haven’t exactly aged much either, so she appears to be in her 20’s

Angel Dust died in his mid 30’s in 1947 from a drug overdose, he is the only one (apart from Baxter) who has a confirmed cause of death

so that would put him currently in his 110’s

Husk died at 75 in the 1970’s his death is not confirmed but is theorised to be from alcohol poisoning/ some other alcohol related incident, or he possibly could of took his own life

That would put him currently in his 120’s

(that would mean he would be, at the oldest, 52 when angel dust died)

Vaggie died in her 20’s in 2014, she does not have a confirmed cause of death, the theories I have heard about her death may not fit well now that we are aware she originally ended up in Heaven

So that currently puts her in her 30’s

Niffty died at 22 in the 1950’s, she does not have a confirmed cause of death, but some theorise it was either from being shot, falling down a chimney/ into a fireplace or being caught in a house fire

Which puts her currently in her late 90’s to early 100’s

Alastor died in his 30’s-40’s in 1933, his cause of death was a dog related incident, it is theorised he was shot and killed in a hunting accident (Alastor was either hiding a body, or was out hunting himself, when another hunter’s dog(s) was alerted to Alastor’s presence and started barking at him, the hunter mistook him for a deer and shot him in the head, and then was possibly mauled by the dogs afterwards)

So that currently put him In his late 120’s to his early 130’s

Sir Pentious died in his 40’s in 1888, he does not have confirmed cause of death but it has been theorised that he died to an invention failure

Which currently puts him in his late 170’s

Cherri Bomb died in her 20’s in the 1980’s, she does not have a confirmed cause of death but it had been theorised she was shot and killed by police during one of her rallies judging by the X’s on her body, tho is could of also been in an explosion she caused

Which currently puts her in her 60’s

(Dickhead) Valentino died in his mid 40’s in the 1970’s, he does not have a confirmed cause of death but has been theorised to have died from some form of std probably HIV/AIDS, since it was around the time of the AIDS crisis between the 1970’s and 1980’s where unfortunately a lot of people, primarily gay men, were getting it and passing away (I’m apologise but I really don’t like this character)

which currently puts him in his 90’s

Vox died in his 30-40’s in the 1950’s, he does not have a confirmed cause of death but has been theorised to have been killed on set with a piece of equipment or a literal TV (he could have been a TV host in life)

Which currently puts him in his 100’s

The list of oldest to youngest with years of existence overall

Charlie (200’s)

Sir Pentious (late 170’s)

Alastor (120’s-130’s)

Husk (120’s)

Angel (110’s)

Vox (100’s)

Niffty (90’s-100’s)

Valentino (90’s)

Cherri bomb (60’s)

Vaggie (30’s)

The list of oldest to youngest according to the age they were when they first died (this is more of a rough estimate and personal opinion)

Husk (75)

Valentino (mid 40’s)

Sir Pentious (40’s)

Alastor (30’s-40’s)

Vox (30’s-40’s)

Angel dust (mid 30’s)

Cherri bomb (20’s)

Vaggie (20’s)

Niffty (22)

If you are interested in learning more about the characters causes of death theories, there are a few posts on Reddit and YouTube (and here ofc) that go more into depth about it, the video I originally watched was:

“How every Hazbin Hotel character perished” by the YouTuber KolkoCat

I believe the YouTuber “Ayy Lmao” has also touched on the topic multiple times as his channel is mostly dedicated to Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss content, you can also find other theories, reviews and analysis about the show there as well

[whiscey]

drop your devastating banana fish fanfics list bestie 🙇🏻‍♀️

AHSHWJEVJ YES OMG thank you so much for this ask!!! i have a very very long list of fanfics that i love so im not gonna put every single one here, but here’s a list of my favorites :)

note: 1) of course please be mindful of the tws— most of these have the usual list of the tws associated with ash’s trauma; 2) i don’t read anything that complies with the canonical ending cause i cannot handle that lol; 3) the first half of this list is just purely devastating, and then the second half is mostly just hurt/comfort; 4) the order in this doesn’t mean anything

I fell in love with a war and nobody told me it ended (by ihavenomorals): very shorter-centric; retells the canon events in his perspective (with it being heavily implied that he’s in love with ash); definitely very devastating, i cried multiple times while reading it

dead birds and bloodhounds (by ihavenomorals): also very shorter-centric lol; incredibly devastating for similar reasons as the last one (i also really really loved the ending of this one)

Streetlight angel. (by chaos101): this one’s also shorter-centric; a lot of pre-canon shorter’s thoughts about ash; i do not have words to describe how much i loved the whole “streetlight angel” thing

New York, New York 1980 (by wbss21): ash-centric; talks about precanon ash living on the streets (no shorter); genuinely so so heartbreaking

Just offscreen. (by chaos101): focuses on ash; please be very very careful with the warnings, this really graphic and can be very triggering; i almost feel weird recommending this one cause it’s not really meant to be read for enjoyment, but it’s very well-written and really really impactful so i do want to include it; almost threw up the first time i read this (and i mean that as a compliment to the writing, not in the sense that i personally found it triggering), it was so incredibly devastating and gut-punching

how strong the blood (by ihavenomorals): nadia-centric; it’s about nadia’s experience raising shorter on her own; one of the only fanfics i’ve read that focuses on nadia and i loved it so so much

Odour of Chrysanthemums (by nyanja14): eiji’s-mom-centric; eiji’s mom’s perspective on ash and his relationship with eiji after they move to japan; this was so cool ahdhwje, i loved how much depth and backstory they gave to eiji’s mom; one of the less devastating ones on this list, but it’s still so sad in its own right

like a peach (by Quintessence): asheijiii; eiji takes care of ash’s wounds (canon-compliant, takes place around when they rescue ash from dino) and they talk about how he sees himself; definitely a lot more hurt/comfort than pure devastation but the way ash sees himself is so heartbreaking :(

Hydrangea (by Bleed_Peroxide): jessica-centric; first half is jessica’s thoughts as she gets to know more about ash and then second half is an expansion on that one scene where jessica asks ash about what foxx did to him; also more hurt/comfort lol, but i love found family sooo much

Even that could be forgiven. Even Ash. (by chaos101): focuses on max and ash; obviously had to include this since i literally requested it lmao (don’t get me wrong tho– that’s not the only reason why it’s here; it’s here cause i love this fic a lot :3); ash thinks max is going to punish him for talking back to him and max comforts him; hurt/comfort

You’ve paid this world more than enough. (by chaos101): also focuses on max and ash; pretty similar to the last one but i just had to include this cause i love it so so much; hurt/comfort

Safe and Sound (by Dodici): focuses on shorter and ash; pretty short but so so impactful (literally took my breath away ahdvwjeh)

I wish that things had been different. (by chaos101): focuses on ash and griffin; it’s about ash’s reunion with griffin after he starts recovering from the effects of banana fish; this was so emotional and well-written abdvwjbd

Down toward the Healing (by Dodici): asheiji; part of a series (i recommend the series as a whole honestly, but definitely this fanfic in particular) called Eight Million Gods; it’s about ash struggling to find a therapist who works for him; the writing is so beautiful in this and i personally find it somewhat devastating in the sense that it’s a big reminder that healing takes time and a lot of effort

Feed My Body. Feed My Soul (by Wings_and_Feet): asheiji; it does have one (consensual) explicit scene, which is important to the plot but can also probably be skipped over if you’re not comfortable reading that; talks about ash’s relationship with food through eiji’s perspective (please be careful with the trigger warnings)

To Sleep; Perchance to Dream (by Wings_and_Feet): asheiji; it’s about ash and eiji’s post-canon life in japan and eiji’s family’s reactions to eiji being ash back home; literally one of my favorite post-canon japan fics ever, it’s soooo good; a lot of hurt/comfort

Pain Management (by Wings_and_Feet): asheiji; discusses ash’s struggles with addiction as a result of his experiences at Club Cod (not elaborating on this cause of the triggering content); i haven’t read many fics that talk about this, so i thought this was really interesting lol (and also it was very well-written)

Just because I love you. (by chaos101): asheiji; ash sickfic combined with ash and eiji talking about the horrible “he’s not your salvation” stuff blanca said to ash; genuinely one of my favorite sickfics ever (although that’s not really entirely the focus of the fanfic but like still)

How to love someone back. (by chaos101): asheiji; i saved the best for last :3; this is a character study of ash and it’s literally one of my favorite fanfics ever – please go read it, it’s so good aksjdke

bonuses :D (these count as bonuses since you requested devastating fics and these are pretty fluffy lol):

What you’ve been waiting for. (by chaos101): professor ash!! this fic is so sweet 🥹 i love it so much, it’s one of my comfort fics

the Childhood at Eighteen series (by armjail): asheiji; these are my other two comfort fics, they’re both so incredibly wholesome 🥹🥹

[section-chief-prentiss]

loml

Summary: Almost a year after Aaron and Jack enter witness protection, Emily spots them while on a case in Wisconsin. 

AU that takes place sometime during season 12. 

Pairing: Emily Prentiss/Aaron Hotchner 

Word Count: 1980 

TWs: blood, suicide, death 

Ao3

“Tara and Alvez, take the front. JJ and I will go around back,” Emily said.

The team dispersed, careful to keep themselves concealed as much as possible under the cloudy, Wisconsin spring sky. The agents surrounding the isolated cabin where, if their profile was right, Patrick Winters was hiding, the 42-year-old UnSub who, in the past month, had kidnapped and murdered over a dozen women. The team hadn’t yet located all of the bodies, but Emily was determined. 

They needed Winters alive. 

While Alvez announced the FBI’s arrival at the front door, JJ and Emily snuck in through the back, guns raised. 

A gunshot sent off a frenzy. From both entrances, FBI agents flooded the house. JJ and Emily cleared the kitchen and small bathroom before hearing, “Prentiss!” 

They rushed into the living room to find Patrick Winters, gun in hand, lying on top of a growing pool of blood, a single shot to the side of his head. 

“Damnit,” Emily cursed, stowing her gun. “Clear the rest of the house.”

The only remaining room was the cabin’s one bedroom, which the agents cleared quickly. 

“There are no bodies here,” JJ reported, rejoining Emily and holstering her weapon. “There are still four women we haven’t found…”

“I know.” 

JJ winced at Emily’s tone, and the Unit Chief sighed in response. “Jayje, I’m sorry. I just don’t—”

“I know,” JJ said. “I hate it, too.”

The team jumped in to help the local police secure the crime scene, but Emily stepped away for some much-needed air. On her way out of the house, she passed Rossi and Reid speaking with the police chief, who looked at her with unspoken questions in their eyes, but she didn’t pause until she was next to one of the team’s SUVs. Alone. 

When she was sure no one could see her, Emily leaned against the car, pressing her palms into her eyes. What was she doing? Snapping at her team? Breaking down at crime scenes? She wasn’t being the leader her team needed. The leader Hotch had always been. 

It had been 11 months and 2 days since Aaron and Jack Hotchner went into WITSEC to protect themselves from Mr. Scratch. 

Not that Emily was keeping track.

11 months and 2 days since Emily found out she was never going to get a chance to tell Aaron how she felt about him after all these years.

She always thought she had time. That she could wait until she was sure he returned her feelings. 

Until Peter Lewis surfaced at one of Jack’s soccer games, and Emily never saw Aaron again. 

She was grateful he’d done it—that he’d protected himself and his son. She wouldn’t have to worry about them being in danger anymore. But damn, if she didn’t miss him every day since.

Emily turned back toward the house, and her heart skipped a beat as a dark-haired agent approached the front door. He was tall, like Hotch, and wore a white button-down under his bulletproof vest. She found herself taking a step toward him instinctively.

But when the man turned to speak with Rossi in the doorway, the light revealed the truth she’d known deep down—this wasn’t Hotch. It was just another agent. 

“Get it together, Em,” she whispered, turning away from the crime scene. 

With the one-year mark approaching, Aaron was fresh on Emily’s mind. She was sure she saw him everywhere—the movies, her favorite restaurants, even at the BAU. But as soon as she’d blink, the illusion would be gone. 

For the Hotchners’ security, the team wasn’t allowed to know where Aaron and Jack were living. But every time a case took them to a different state, Emily couldn’t help but keep an eye out, wondering if they were somewhere nearby. Living the normal lives they so deserved.

Sometimes, in the dead of night, when she was alone, she found herself wishing she was with them. 

“You okay?” 

Spencer’s voice caused Emily to jump, and one hand flew to her holster out of habit.

“Sorry, it’s just me,” Spencer said, raising his arms. 

Emily blew out a breath and put her hand down.

“I’m fine, just a long case.”

“Chief Rogers asked if we could stay until tomorrow, try and help them tie up the loose ends of the case.”

Before Spencer was finished speaking, Emily was already nodding. “Of course.”

“I’ll let him know.” 

As Reid headed back toward the house, JJ made her way toward the SUV.

“The local police said they can take it from here for tonight,” JJ reported. “I know this case has taken a toll. I was thinking, since we’re staying another night, maybe we pick up some wine and food on the way back to the hotel? Have a girl’s night? I already asked Tara, and she’s in.”

Emily smiled. “That sounds perfect. I can grab the wine, if you two want to pick up dinner somewhere, and we’ll meet back at the hotel?”

“I can come with you,” JJ offered. 

Emily shook her head. “That’s alright. I need a minute alone before I’ll be fun to be around. Can you let the rest of the team know?”

“Of course. See you soon,” JJ said.

Emily fished the car keys out of her pocket, grateful for the excuse to leave without talking to anyone else. She searched for the nearest grocery store in this small Wisconsin town and found only one, but it was just a few minutes away.

Emily drove in silence, relishing this brief reprieve. 

The Pick ‘n Save parking lot was emptier than she expected, until she remembered where she was. This wasn’t D.C., where she dreaded going to her local grocery store because there was never anywhere to park. It made her grateful to be on the road as often as she was.

She left her Kevlar vest in the car and tucked her gun into the glovebox before heading inside and beelining to the alcohol section. Briefly, she lingered near the tequila, debating if she should bring something stronger. But they had work to do in the morning, and wine was risky enough.

She ended up with two bottles—Tara’s favorite red, and JJ’s favorite white. She glanced at the bottles in her basket, wondering if she should grab anything else. On her way to check out, the snack aisle caught her attention, and she knew that bringing JJ a bag of Cheetos would make for a great peace offering after her outburst earlier.

Emily took one step down the aisle when a flash of dark hair halted her in her tracks. 

She stepped out of the aisle, closed her eyes, and counted to ten.

It’s not him, she told herself. You’re just tired and stressed. 

But when she peeked around the corner again, the image hadn’t changed. A dark-haired man in a blue polo and slacks stood with an unmistakable smile on his face as he looked down at the little boy with sandy blond hair at his side. The boy who had grown so much since she’d seen him almost a year ago. 

Her heart skipped a beat.

But it couldn’t be. 

They were at the far end of the aisle—far enough away that this could still be her mind playing tricks on her. But she couldn’t leave here unless she was sure.

Retracing her steps, she headed down the next aisle, walking as calmly as she could to the end. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she forced herself to move slowly. 

She stopped at the end of her aisle, pretending to be immersed in the selection of cereals, listening as closely as she could.

“Buddy, we can’t get Doritos and Cheetos; you have to choose one.”

“But I want both!” 

It took all of Emily’s strength not to drop her basket and shatter the wine bottles inside it. She knew those voices as well as she knew her own.

Aaron. Jack. 

“How about this? We’ll get one this time, and we can get the other next time. So which do you want today?” 

“Umm… Cheetos! No, Doritos!” 

There was rustling as one of them grabbed the chosen bag. 

“Alright, what’s next on the list?” 

“Cereal!” 

Emily’s blood ran cold. For their protection, she knew she couldn’t interact with them. And that was more important than anything.

But if she lingered here for just another minute… she’d get to see them. Maybe for the last time. 

In the end, her training took over, and she jogged into the next aisle over. She knew she shouldn’t linger, so she retraced her steps to the opposite end, speed walking past the cereal aisle, not even daring to risk a glance in the boys’ direction, before turning down the chip aisle. 

Emily stopped in front of the Doritos and Cheetos, feeling odd knowing that Aaron and Jack had stood here just moments before. 

But every moment that she lingered she knew risked them crossing paths. So she picked up a bag of puffy Cheetos and tossed it into her basket with the wine. She was about to turn away when a voice froze her in place.

“Okay, I’ll grab the Cheetos instead, but this is the last time you can change your mind!” 

Emily knew she should leave, but her feet wouldn’t budge. Leaving her to watch, frozen, as Aaron Hotchner walked into her field of vision. Watch as he staggered back a step when their eyes locked. 

Emily sucked in a breath and held it, as if doing so would keep her in this moment longer.

I miss you, she thought as hard as she could in his direction.

His eyes softened, and he nodded once, as if saying that he understood. 

He glanced down at the basket in her hand, unable to fight back a smile when he saw the chips she’d chosen. 

He raised an eyebrow at her. JJ? She imagined he was asking.

She cracked a smile and nodded.

“Dad, what’s taking so long?” 

Jack’s voice snapped them both into motion. Aaron quickly put the Nacho Cheese Doritos back on their shelf, substituting them for a bag of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos.

“Be right there,” he called to his son.

Aaron glanced over his shoulder to wink at Emily before disappearing once more. As if he’d never been there at all. 

Emily felt like she was moving through water—each step slow, her breath difficult to control. She picked up the bag of Nacho Cheese Doritos that Aaron had put back and threw them in her basket, unsure why she did it. She hated that flavor. But as she made her way to the checkout, she realized—she wanted something that he had touched. It was as close as she would ever get to touching him. 

Emily’s hands shook the entire drive back to the hotel. She mindlessly carried her things to her hotel room, where JJ and Tara were already waiting with boxes of Chinese food. 

JJ frowned upon seeing the expression on Emily’s face. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Emily said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just a long line at the grocery store.”

Emily showed off her purchases, and JJ’s face lit up at the sight of the Cheetos, not paying attention to the second bag of chips Emily had.

But nothing slipped Tara’s notice. She tilted her head in confusion. “I thought you didn’t like that flavor.”

All Emily wanted to do was tell them what she saw. But even though it broke her heart further, she knew this would have to remain a secret. 

“There was a sale,” Emily shrugged. “Thought I’d try something different.”

That was all her friends needed to hear. They cracked open the first bottle of wine, and by the time Emily poured her third glass, she’d forgotten the memory she was so desperately trying to numb. 

Tag List:

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[agent-barnes40]

They know

William Afton/Steve Raglan x GN!Reader

Inspiration from my friend, @kristopher-1105 post!

TW: Child murdering, 1980's William Afton warning, Garret Schmidt mentioned

William kept looking toward the clock, his gloved hand tightening around the knife as he waited for the child to stop chattering, his wedding anniversary was tonight. Eventually, he wrapped the other glove around the child's mouth, squeezing it tightly and plunging the knife into the child's torso. He got quickly to shoving the child's body into one of the animatronics, he was running on autopilot. He didnt notice the safe room's door opening and closing behind him. "Did you have to do this tonight?"

His head whipped around, the rabbit ears flopping as he located you, his gorgeous partner, an eyebrow raised as you gestured to the bloody suit, knife, floor and animatronic. "The reservation is in an hour, Will! You couldn't have waited until tomorrow?"

"He was being a brat and i had.." William stopped explaining himself and pointed the knife towards you, tilting his head as he studied your expression. "You aren't disgusted? You should be calling the police." "The only reason I'll be calling the police is if you cut any part of my outfit, William. Get cleaned up, get dressed, and meet me in the car. I can't believe you did this again. You said Garret was the only one, but nooo you had to choose our wedding anniversary to kill another kid." You rambled on and on, your hands flopped around as William started to step towards you and pull the head off. "And if you so much as get anymore near me with that bloody rabbit suit, we will be getting this outfit dry cleaned! You can kiss me in the car." You turned around, leaned your head out of the door, checking for anyone watching before stepping out of the room and closing the door. William dropped the head on its designated spot on the shelf and shook his head with a grin. "How did I get so lucky?"

[whatswrongwithblue]

The Fire in the Sin

Chapter 11 - Stitches

Word count: 8,912. Read on AO3. Series Masterlist. <- Previous Chapter.

Summary: Mina and Alastor FINALLY talk . . . sort of. And then fuck. TWs: canon typical violence and language, recreational drug use, mentions of a past abortion, panic attack, brief self harm, p & v sex, creampie, very brief use of tentacles. Smutty, but still pretty vanilla fluffy lovey dovey sex.

This lovely artwork was done by @ver0xinart and used here with permission. Please follow them for really unique and wonderful Alastor fanart!

Series Summary:

In the 1950's, Alastor met the woman he would eventually marry but unfortunately his Radio Demon persona went for her soul rather than her hand. He has to learn what it means to love, and cherish, without possessing and he does. Their relationship is beautiful, strong, unbreakable . . . but he carries a dark secret through their marriage for decades until eventually he has to face the consequences of that secret and leave her, without warning, for seven years. He returns, finding her at the Hazbin Hotel, and has to convince her to forgive him, while being literally bound to secrecy, unable to tell her any of things he now is desperate to explain to her.

(This is a duel timeline fic, timestamps will be a the top of every chapter.)

Chapter 11 - Stitches

Present Day

Mina’s friend had been waiting for her.

Fae was much younger than her and, in most ways, the complete opposite of Mina. Fae had died in the 1980’s, spent her entire life in New York City, was extroverted, loved being around people and partying, posted everything on social media, dressed in brightly colored scandalous clothes, and went through lovers as often as she changed her hair color, which was near weekly.

Despite these differences, they had gotten along well when they had first met. When Mina confessed to Fae that she was struggling with the symptoms of her heat cycles without Alastor around to help her through them, Fae had introduced her to the variety of dance clubs Pentagram City had to offer.

Mina had been skeptical at first and made it clear that any sex themed danced clubs were not an option – her husband was missing but not dead and she still considered herself monogamously married. Besides, large crowds gyrating around to loud emotionless sound that passed for “music” had never been the kind of thing Mina approved of. But once she had tried it, it quickly became one of her favorite ways to release the energy that was pent up inside her.

It wasn’t just sex her body craved when she was in heat. She was always so wound tight, irritable, and overstimulated by everything. And the music in the clubs overpowered all of that. She could feel it reverberating through her, pounding in her chest, pushing out all thought, and guiding her to move in mindless, energetic ways. It was addicting.

And if other dancers dared to try and touch her, it was just an excuse for her to be violent, which helped sate her needs even more. They’d leave without a hand, or an entire limb, depending on how aggressive they had been and how much bloodlust she was feeling. One time someone with a few extra hands managed to grab both her and Fae’s ass at the same time, and they had danced under his dripping, decapitated head.

After all, it wasn’t just their job descriptions that gave Abaddon’s demons their reputation for brutality. And Mina had to remind people that although the Radio Demon wasn’t around anymore, it was still in everyone’s best interest to leave her the hell alone.

That night, Fae listened as Mina filled her in on what had transpired that day, and the awful argument she and Alastor had just had. Then Fae took her to a dance club they hadn’t gone to in a while, one they were less likely to be recognized at, and therefore more likely to catfish some demons into harassing them. So they danced, and maimed, and danced some more.

Hours later, they played innocent as they left the club, allowing themselves to be followed. Fae was even better bait than Mina, with her shorter stature, purple afro dyed to match her wings, pink skin, and lime green sequined dress. Only her sharp teeth and jet-black eyes looked remotely demonic, otherwise you might think she was a harmless little wood nymph straight out of a fairy tale.

She and Mina tore their would-be rapists apart and didn’t make quick work of it.

At the end of the evening, with dawn approaching, the two blood splattered women shared a joint on a rooftop ledge, letting their bare feet dangle over the sides, their shoes discarded behind them.

“You know what the most insulting part is?” Mina asked as she passed the joint back, “it really was the sex that was keeping me quiet. The minute I go into heat - and he’s not around – I figure it out. And he knew that was going to happen, that’s why he’s been on top of me so much lately.”

“That just sounds like a guy,” Fae choked out a smoke-filled laugh. “I mean . . . you said you were sure he wasn’t having an affair, so it was seven years for him, too.”

“Alastor’s different,” Mina said, not defensively. It was just the truth.

“Please girl, everyone woman says that about her man.”

“No, he . . . I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. Sex is just . . . not important to him.”

“Come again?”

Mina sighed. It really was hard to explain.

“I mean, it is and it isn’t. The . . . mood has to be just right for him. If he’s mad, or even agitated, or if I even remotely hint that I might not be enthusiastically ready myself, he is just . . . not interested. I’m sorry,” Mina said, hanging her head and laughing a little. “I think I’m too stoned to be explaining this.”

“But didn’t you just say he was giving it to you like . . . all the time lately?” Fae asked. “What, did you guys not have sex before?”

“Of course we did!”

Fae raised an eyebrow, obviously confused.

“He . . . I mean, we-“ Mina let out an exasperated breath, “Okay, I didn’t have sex for a long time after I died. But that’s because honestly, it was never all that good and after you’ve had to kill all of your exes, it kind of puts you off men. But I still wanted it. But Alastor had two short-lived relationships when he was young and then spent the last ten years of his life a bachelor and when he came to Hell, it was like he had never even considered romance until well after he met me. The man just doesn’t think about sex like the rest of us do. He likes it. And he’s really good at it, believe me. But it’s not a priority for him. So when I say, it was out of character for him to be wanting it almost every day, I really mean that.”

Fae blinked at her for a moment, considering.

“Is he ace?” she asked.

“What?” Mina asked in return, thinking she misheard her.

Fae busted out laughing.

“Oh my God, are you telling me the great Radio Demon is acespec?! Man looks like a walking freak in the sheets!”

Mina just stared at her, not understanding half the terminology she was saying.

“He’s ace!” Fae cackled again.

“Repeating it is not going to help me understand you any better,” Mina responded, annoyed.

“Asexual. Graysexual. Demisexual. None of those words mean anything to you?”

“Fae . . . what the hell are you talking about?”

“Girl, you old as fuck. Okay,” Fae sucked in a breath, controlling her laughter. “You should really Google it but, Alastor doesn’t want sex unless he feels a super strong emotional connection, is that what you’re saying? And even with you, he has to be like . . . really happy and feeling it,” she said, with a saucy role of her shoulders that made Mina blush.

“Yes . . .” Mina answered, a little upset that Fae described him better than Mina had been able to.

“And after an initial rough couple of weeks, you two were getting along better - once you stopped having to secretly run off to go to work and pissing him off – and you stopped picking arguments as much - and then suddenly he’s all mister love machine?”

“Yes . . .” Mina repeated.

“You dumb bitch!” Fae smacked her in the arm. “He wasn’t ‘manipulating’ you, he was just happy. You,” she said, stabbing her with a pointed finger where she had smacked her, “were making him happy. After seven years apart, you really think he didn’t miss you as much as you missed him?”

Mina scowled and looked down at the street below them. She hated how much Fae was making sense, even without her friend knowing a lot more intimate details about her husband that she was purposefully leaving out of the conversation.

“Asexual,” she said, trying out the word. “I thought he was just a psychopath.”

“Oh, he’s also that, for sure.” 

She knew he was a rare breed of serial killer, one guided by a dark and strange moral compass, rather than a deviant sexual appetite. It would never have occurred to her that there were others out there that shared this label with him. Now she felt awful for not having figured this out herself after a lifetime of marriage when Fae grasped the concept immediately.

Of course Alastor hadn’t been using sex against her, that had never been his style. He would have been appalled if he knew she had thought that of him. Mina really had let her thoughts spiral completely out of control that morning.

Regardless, she was not the one with the most blame on her shoulders.

“He still sold his soul,” she mumbled.

“Okay, well honestly, only you are surprised at that one.”

“Excuse me?”

“Like, be pissed that he kept it a secret. You can murder the man for up and dumping your ass for seven years and walking back into your life like ‘hey honey, I’m home’ but the deal making? You married a deal maker. You either gotta own that or leave his ass, but don’t act surprised about it.”

Mina yanked the joint from Fae’s hand and took a long drag.

“He’s the deal maker. He takes peoples souls, that’s why he’s an Overlord.”

“Oh come on, even you’ve had to have heard the rumors about why he’s so powerful.”

“They’re just stupid rumors,” Mina huffed.

Of course she had heard them. Whispers that he had sold his soul while he was still alive. Whispers that he was just the instrument of something much more powerful. There were even more ridiculous ones. He’s a fallen angel. He’s half-Eldritch. He’s an entirely unknown entity all together. She’d heard it all and knew it was all bullshit.

“Obviously not,” Fae countered. “You know now he’s got a chain around him same as most sorry bastards down here do. What you don’t know is who’s on the other end of that chain and how long they’ve had hold of it.”

“He was supposed to be better than this,” Mina said, feeling her eyes begin to burn. She took another drag, breathing in until she felt the threat of tears dissipating.

“You’ve been looking at him with rose colored glasses on for too long, babe.”

Mina rolled her eyes. “I know exactly how awful he can be.”

“No, you don’t,” Fae said firmly. “You think you see Alastor and The Radio Demon as one and the same, but you really don’t. You see ‘Alastor’, your devoted, loving husband. And he is that. But when he’s all big and scary and doing his evil shit, you’re into it! And hey, not blaming you. The man is a walking thirst trap. What you aren’t seeing, is what the rest of Hell sees. A cold and calculating son of bitch who wants power, and attention for that power, above all else. And he is incredibly arrogant. It makes a whole lotta sense that he made a deal a long time ago – maybe even more than one - in order to get the kind of power he has and he’s just recently started to face the repercussions of that deal. And he honestly never even considered that it would jeopardize your relationship. He might love you, but he’s a narcissist. It’s going to take a whole lot more than a bit of anger from you for him to get the idea that you’ll never get over this. He’s so overly confident in how much you love him, he’s sure he can get away with anything with you, if he just gives you enough time to get over it.”

Mina was shaking her head. “I’ve loved him for 70 years. I know him better than anyone, you think I don’t know all the worst parts of him? I know how self-absorbed he can be and I know all the gory details of the awful things he’s done to others. I’ve helped him do some of it! I still never saw this coming.”

Fae stood up, exasperated now. “You are too close to him to see it. Mina, I love you girl, but we just killed like five guys tonight. And it was awesome. I was having some girl time with my bestie. I look at you like you’re this sweet, bookish, kind-of-awkward nerd who’s got some man issues and needs to blow off steam. The rest of Hell sees you as a stone-cold murderess bitch who hides in whatever fortress you’ve chosen for the decade and only comes out when you feel like eating someone.”

“How many times are you going to call me a bitch tonight?”

Fae clapped her hands together in front of Mina’s face. “You are both those things. Doesn’t mean you are two faced or faking it or whatever. It means you’re fucked up, but it also just means that your perception of people changes when you get closer to them because sometimes, you’re too close to see the whole picture. You get me?”

She did. But it didn’t make her feel any better about the state of things, it just made her feel worse. It didn’t change the fact that Alastor was still keeping her in the dark about everything.

“So, you’re saying I should just forgive him? Because I’m not sure I can do that.”

“Hell no!” Fae said. “You need to tell him in no uncertain terms that he’s gotta come clean to you about everything. Deal or no deal, you deserve to know. The only thing I’m saying is, if he does that, then you gotta really be prepared to forgive him.”

Was she?

She would still be angry. She would still feel betrayed. And the sting of seven years alone wouldn’t go away overnight. But she would certainly be a lot more willing to keep trying.

“And if he still doesn’t tell me anything?” Mina asked.

Fae handed her the joint, now just a stub, and waited for her to take the last drag.

“That’s for you to ask yourself, babes. I can’t answer that for you.”

Mina flicked away the joint and watched it tumble through the air, then she stood up, and put on her shoes.

“I have to know. Even worst-case scenario, I have to know. And I’ll promise him, that no matter how awful the truth is, I’ll stay and try to work through it. But if he doesn’t . . . then I’ll leave him,” Mina said.

She had lived for decades in Hell and done well for herself before him. And even when she was completely shattered and driven nearly insane by his disappearance, she got through it. It would hurt to learn how to live without him again. . . but she could do it. He had already forced her to face that challenge and she had come out the other side.

“Can you do it?” Fae asked, as if she could read Mina’s thoughts.

Mina recalled the last time she had made an impossible decision.

She remembered the sickness and the cramping that came hours after drinking the poison, and then the horrible gory mess of blood and tissue that came from her body weeks later. Alone, on the floor of her room on the ship to America, everyone assuming she was just seasick and leaving her be, as her body finally expelled her aborted child from her. The tiny, shapeless, barely formed infant she had held in her hands and sobbed over, before wrapping the whole mess up in her bed sheets and tossing it all overboard.

Mina shook off the memories and looked at Fae, trying every bit to be the “stone-cold bitch” she was apparently viewed as.

“I’ve had to hurt myself worse than this to survive before. I can do it again.”

____

It was daylight by the time Mina returned to the hotel and rather than raise any more suspicions with the other staff and residents, she forwent her ability to portal and chose to simply walk through the front doors. She would already have to come clean to Alastor about her job after she had used a portal in front of him, but it was still best not to let Charlie in on her secret just yet.

She glanced up at the radio tower as she approached the hotel. Alastor was up there, watching her; she was sure of it. And he would be furious.

Mina braced herself, not quite ready for the storm she was walking into, and lied to herself that she would not let him get under her skin and ruin the calm and determined emotional control she had built up on her journey home.

Seconds after she walked through the door, she was accosted by a taller blonde woman.

“Mina!” Charlie yelled as she threw herself around her, wrapping her in a tight hug. “You came back!”

Mina sighed and returned the hug. It was . . . nice, having someone just be relieved she was okay. Charlie could be annoying at times, but her genuine sweet nature was charming.

“Of course I did,” she said, and then wriggled free from the embrace. “What did Alastor tell you?”

She looked around the room. Everyone was already up and about. It looked like Mina had walked into another bonding activity and there were pages full of handwritten scribbles scattered all around the coffee table and bar.

“Honestly, not very much. He was up in his tower all night. What happened to you?” Charlie gasped, taking in the blood splatters that had dried in her hair and across her clothes.

“Not a drop of it is mine,” Mina said with an assuring wink. “It may not count for redemption, but I might have traumatized a few Sinners into behaving better.”

“Oh . . . well,” Charlie said, searching for the words. “That’s good . . . I guess? Anyway! We’re discussing boundaries this morning and I have a lot of apologies to make so if you would have a seat-“

“No, love. I need a shower, and a nap, and then I need to talk to Alastor. Perhaps later,” Mina said and began to walk away.

Charlie grabbed her hand and tried to pull her towards the group.

“But we already lost all of yesterday! Please, Mina, this is really important!”

Mina yanked her hand free, then took a breath, trying to remain calm. Charlie did not deserve her anger.

“Listen, dearest, I am here to help you in whatever way I can. Really. But I am not here for redemption for myself and I need . . . what is the term used these days? . . . A ‘mental health day.’ So please, excuse me.”

Mina went to turn around but stopped short as Alastor materialized on the other side of Charlie.

“If Charlie is hosting an activity on apologies, my dear, then I think it prudent that you of all people attend the day’s festivities,” he said, his hands placed atop his microphone, and his brilliant, lying smile dominating his features.

“Don’t you start,” Mina warned. “You are at the bottom of the itinerary I just listed and believe me, you want to stay there.”

Alastor couldn’t hide the scowl that narrowed his eyes.

“Or what, darling? You’ll act like a child not getting what they want and take off again?”

“You have no room to talk!” Mina shouted.

“Okay, so this is a great start, but I think we should lower our voices-“ Charlie started but Vaggie took her hand and pulled her out from between the two arguing spouses.

“Not right now, babe,” Vaggie said quietly.

The other residents stayed still as statues, caught between fear and enjoying the drama.

“Two wrongs don’t make a right,” Alastor said in a sing-song voice. “Maybe that could be the focus of Charlie’s next activity!”

“Do not stand there and pretend like you have any kind of moral pedestal to stand on! You walked out on me-“

He rolled his eyes.

“-pushed me aside when I was no longer convenient for you-“

His smile dropped just a little.

“-lied to me, kept secrets from me, betrayed me-“

Light itself seemed to flee from him as his eyes took on the red glow that always came to them when he was close to becoming unhinged.

“-you won’t even tell me what was so much more important than me, after six decades of me giving you everything. Who had something better to offer you? Or was it just new and exciting? What about me wasn’t good enough for you to even bother saying goodbye?!”

“THAT’S ENOUGH!”

He towered over her, his body and shadow seeming to envelope the whole room, and everything went blurry. Every light went out and strange flashes of red symbols appeared on the walls, and the large matching menacing smiles on Alastor’s face and his shadow’s glowed brighter, looming above all of them.

In a second, the room had returned to its normal appearance, only without Mina or Alastor.

The other six people in the room looked around, but still, no one dared utter a sound.

After a moment of peace and quiet, there was the sound of a door slamming shut upstairs, followed by an electric surge that brightened all the lights in the lobby. A few of them burst, and the ones that didn’t began to erratically flicker.

“Should we uh . . . should we do something?” Charlie asked, looking up at the ceiling.

“Nah, best to stay out of it,” Husk said.

Niffty giggled as all of the light bulbs were exchanged for rushes of green flames momentarily, and then shifted back to their normal states.

“He’s not going to hurt her, is he?” Vaggie asked.

“I’m more worried about what she’s going to do to him,” Angel said.

“Not a chance,” Husk said. “They’ll yell and carry on like this for a while, but they’d never lay a hand on each other.”

More light bulbs burst into flame and this time stayed that way, and a crack ran up the bar room wall.

“Are you ssssure about that?” Sir Pentious asked, looking nervously at the damage.

“Yeah, yeah. But uh . . .” Husk said, and the lights went out for good, leaving them all in darkness. The dim red morning light that was just able to come through the painted glass of the front doors was the only source of illumination for the entire lobby. “Maybe we should get out of here for a little while.”

“Okay, great. Let’s all go out for breakfast this morning!” Charlie said and ushered everyone out.

As everyone quickly gathered their stuff and headed out, Charlie darted back towards the lounge and grabbed Niffty by the arm, who was still standing there, giggling and staring up towards the floor above.

____

Despite the display seen down below, once they were alone in their room together, Alastor had returned to his normal appearance, but his shadow still moved from wall to wall, agitated and larger than usual. His expression was wild; eyes wide and frantic, his smile full and strained. He looked insane but no more demonic than usual.

Even if Alastor had unleashed his more terrifying forms on her, Mina wouldn’t have backed down. She was too angry and too hurt to have rational thoughts about her safety.

“You are such a fucking arse!” she screamed at him.

“You should have listened to me,” he said, deadly quiet.

“Listened to you?! I can’t listen to you if you don’t tell me a damn thing! I can’t listen to you if you aren’t here!”

“I told you to be patient. And before I left, I told you not to go back to work for that angel. I told you to stay far away from the Morningstars. And I come back to find you doing the exact opposite.”

“Abaddon is my family, Alastor. And they were here. They’ve never left me, they have always been there for me. Just because you aren’t man enough to do the same, doesn’t mean you get to be bitter that someone else treated me better than you did. Of course I went back to work for them. You left me with no one else.”

He was visibly shaking now. His fists were balled so tightly Mina was certain his claws had to be digging into the palms of his hands. Good. She hoped he bled.

“You should have trusted me,” he said.

“Why?” she asked, making her voice as calm and cold as his.

He wasn’t expecting that, and his lack of response spurred her on.

“You lost the right to my trust, Alastor. You lost the right to everything when you tossed me aside like I was nothing.”

“That is not what happened!” He was raising his voice now and that was even better. It meant he was losing.

“Then tell me what did happen, because that’s all I see. How am I supposed to trust you and listen to you when all you continue to do is hurt and humiliate me?”

“Because you are stronger than this!” he shouted. He was breathing hard now, the static crackling with nearly every inhale. When he continued, he spoke in a lower tone, but his voice was still warped. “Is seven years really so much? Compared to seventy? Compared to the infinite amount of time we have ahead of us now? Are your feelings for me really that weak?”

She gaped at him, feeling his words like a dagger at her throat.

“Fuck you,” she whispered, struggling to get the words out as her chest tightened. “You don’t get to break my heart and then judge me for how it shattered.”

Something in his features softened then but she didn’t want to see it. She didn’t want his pity, she just wanted answers.

“You weren’t even looking for me when you came here!” she cried out, forcing her outrage to build up again. “How much longer would it have been if I wasn’t already at the hotel? How am I supposed to live with someone who treats me like an afterthought?”

He shook his head. “If you had listened to me . . .  I had a plan. I was going to come find you, when I could tell you everything. And now we’re here and look what a mess you’ve made of things. If you had just stayed out of it-“

“You want me to leave then?” she interrupted; her jaw set tight.

“Well not now,” he said, with a dismissive tone.

“No, that’s just fine with me,” Mina said. “I’ll leave right now.”

“Don’t be dramatic, dear,” he sighed, clearly thinking she was bluffing.

“Alastor,” she said. “Tell me who you made a deal with.”

She watched him grit his teeth, his smile reduced to a thin line.

“I. Can’t.”

“When did you make it?”

“For fuck’s sake, Mina-“

“Why did you do it?” she continued, ignoring him.

“I can’t tell you!”

Her next few breaths shook in her chest, but she managed not to cry this time.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she said quietly. Sadly. “I love you so much, but I just can’t. Answer my questions and I’ll stay . . . or this is it. I’ll leave.”

He looked at her in shock and she knew then Fae had been right. No part of Alastor really believed he had pushed her so far away. Mina watched as the panic grew in his face and she tried to close herself off from how much it pained her to see it.

“I swear, Mina. I swear. I have told you everything I can,” he said in a rush.

She sighed and closed her eyes in defeat, trying to block him out.

“I have been trying,” he grabbed her shoulders, begging her. “I want you to know everything. I do. I just . . . I can’t.”

“I’m not listening to this anymore,” she said.

His hands dropped from her shoulders. Defeated, he turned his back on her, shaking his head.

“Mina, please,” he begged, still turned away from her, his voice low and raspy. “I am trying to find the words.”

“Just spit it out!” she snapped and he turned on her.

“I CAN’T!”

It was like a bomb went off.

All the power he had shoved off into the far corners of the hotel rushed back into the room. The floorboards and ceiling glowed and pulsed green, the lights exploded, the windows and doors rattled in their holdings, the floor beneath them rumbled, and the walls groaned.

Despite the chaos, Mina’s whole world narrowed to Alastor’s face as she saw them for the first time; the green, luminescent stitches laced through his mouth. Forcing his smile into place.

Forcing him into silence.

And the faintest outline of a chain, transparent but the same shade of green, flickered for just a second around his neck, the links behind him trailing upwards before fading into nothing.

Mina blinked twice, trying to process, when suddenly the room returned to normal.

Alastor was seated on the edge of their bed, clutching at his hair and audibly hyperventilating.

Everything switched for Mina in those few seconds after she saw the very real, very tangible magic that was controlling him.

He hadn’t lied, not about a single thing. He had been trying to tell her everything since he got back and literally could not.

That changed everything for her.

She went to him, placing her hands over his fists that were threatening to tear out his hair. For a moment, she was confused by the way the static was affecting his harsh and rapid breathing until she realized he wasn’t just having a panic attack, he was crying. Sobbing.

Alastor was having a complete breakdown and she had pushed him to it.

“Alastor?” she said, trying to wrap her fingers around his. “My love. My heart . . .”

He was still so tall, even sitting on the edge of the bed and bent over, that his head was level with her belly. She cradled him to her, keeping her hands over his own.

“You need to let go, love,” she said softy. “You’re hurting yourself.”

He let his grip loosen from his hair but then he was just pressing his palms to his temple, still looking down at his feet.

Mina ran her fingers through his hair, feeling the shallow scratches in his scalp his claws had made, before she let her hands fall lower, caressing his cheek and cupping his jaw. She tried to get him to sit up and look at her, but he was so stiff she couldn’t budge him, so she just held him instead.

She had never seen him cry, not in all their years together. He had, on a rare occasion or two, become choked up and silent, but she had never seen him like this. Never felt his tears gather on her skin as she held his face, never heard his ragged breathing as his chest heaved with sobs.

She had done this to him. Her, and whoever had control over his soul.

Mina was no longer angry at him. She was angry for him.

“I’m sorry,” she said, using one hand to stroke the back of his head as she held him to her stomach. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know but I do now, okay? And I need you to calm down. I’m not going anywhere, I promise, so just breath for me, my love.”

“I just,” he gasped out, “want to stop smiling. For one  . . . God damn . . . minute.”

Mina looked over at his shadow, which was hovering anxiously over the bed. That thing was always hard to read, even for her, but she swore she could see concern in its demonic gaze. It looked from Alastor to her, making hard eye contact with her for a moment, before seemingly deciding on something, and trailed across the wall to the door and faded through it.

Mina was sure it was standing guard outside, ensuring their privacy wouldn’t be interrupted.

“Give me your hands,” she said, reaching for them again to try and pull them away from his face. He complied finally, and she guided them until they were wrapped around her hips. Though he was still far from calm, at least she could keep him from harming himself.

“Alastor, if you can’t calm down, I’m going to sing for you. Would that be alright?” she asked. Mina was almost to the point of not waiting for a response. He could be upset with her later for using her power on him against his will, but she had to get his breathing under control now.

But after a few seconds, she heard his strained response.

“Please,” he whispered.

It had taken her some time to perfect the use of her power for pleasant things. Mina had initially only used it to harm or control others. It wasn’t until Alastor that she realized she could simply influence the emotions of others, though it had been tricky business at first. He had helped her hone that skill and now she put every ounce of her love for him behind her words as she sung.

“Why should thy cheek be pale,

Shaded with sorrow’s veil?

Why should’st thou grieve me?

I will never, never leave thee.

‘Mid my deepest sadness,

‘Mid by gayest gladness,

I am thine, believe me;

I will never, never leave thee.”

Mina felt him relax within the first line and by halfway through, he had quieted completely. She rubbed his shoulders and back, stroked his ears, and then ran her fingers gently through his hair, checking on the bloody scratches he had etched into his scalp already beginning to heal. By the end of the first verse, he was completely asleep in her arms, but she continued to hold onto him, bracing his weight against her until she felt his self-inflicted wounds fully close and her own heart began to heal as well.

___

Eventually, Mina pulled herself free of him and gently guided his unconscious form down until he was laying on the bed. She took his shoes off, placed his microphone so that it was propped against the nightstand, put his monocle on the nightstand, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Then she switched off the lights and closed the curtains to keep the daylight out, leaving only the soft glow from the bayou to illuminate the room.

She took a quick shower, just to wash the dried blood from her hair and skin, trying to keep her mind blank. Once clean, she used her blow dryer on low, trying to make as little noise as possible, running it over her hair, ears, and tail, until just the longest parts of her hair were damp.

Alastor’s shadow slipped between the door and wall and briefly came up to her side before exiting, leaving Mina to wonder if it was checking on her of its own accord or if Alastor had woken and sent it in.

She threw on her black bathrobe and went back into the bedroom to see.

Indeed, she found Alastor awake again, sitting in a recliner he must have just manifested, placed in the middle of the bayou. He was smoking a pipe that smoldered with a dim green glow, his jacket off, his bowtie undone and hanging limp around his neck, and one socked foot was resting atop the opposite knee, as he stared into the distance of the swamp he had created.

He looked at her as she stepped into the low light of the bedroom and held out his free hand to her.

“Join me, mon cher?” he asked.

Mina’s bare feet carried her over carpet to moss in a few strides, and as she took the hand he offered, he adjusted his seat and gently pulled her into his lap. She rested her body between his spread legs, her feet dangling over the edge of one of his knees and tucked her head under his chin.

He tossed his pipe to the ground, and it burst into green flame, leaving no trace of it but a small, lingering trail of smoke. With both hands now free, he cradled her to him, one hand stroking her thigh over her robe while the other traced lazy circles at the base of her neck.

“When you left,” she began carefully, speaking softy, “I was so alone. I needed my family.”

“I know,” he said quietly.

“Abaddon didn’t take me back as a torturer. They promoted me. Offered me the chance to go to the mortal world and look for you, if I worked as a bounty hunter instead. Even Rosie thought it was a good idea. She’s the only other one who knew.”

She felt him stiffen a little beneath her, but he stayed silent, allowing her to continue.

“I didn’t know what else to do. I had nothing left. So, I took the job. And when they told me about Charlie’s idea . . . there were these rumors. And you probably can’t tell me if they are just rumors, can you?”

She felt the slight shake of his head above hers.

“No, I’m afraid it doesn’t seem to work that way. You could be dead wrong about something but as long as you’re making guesses, I can’t even try to lead you in the right direction. It’s . . . maddening.”

“Okay,” she said. At least she understood the rules now. She could work with that. “Well, there were rumors that somehow Heaven was involved. That it had something to do with exterminations. Or Lillith and why she left, too. That’s why I came here. If anyone could get a key to that place, it’s Charlie. There must be something to all that because this is the first place you showed up, right?”

She sat up a bit to look at him, to try and read anything in his face, but he just looked at her with a sad smile. Mina sighed and rested her head against his shoulder again.

“I would have told you all of this sooner. I don’t know if I would have quit once you got back because honestly . . . I really enjoyed it. But I thought you were purposefully keeping things from me. So, I kept my own secrets from you and I continued to work, just out of spite, because I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” he said.

“There’s something else.” She paused, still nervous to tell him the next part. “I’ve been let go. At least for now. I’m not sure what I’ll do if I get asked to come back. Abaddon took the fire from me. I can still use the portals, but I can’t wield any flame. That last night that I disappeared, things went really badly. I wasn’t just shot . . . I . . .”

Mina stopped, taking a deep breath. She closed her eyes, and pressed her face deeper into the side of Alastor’s neck as she recalled the sight of Ro falling dead from the sky.

“Someone had a gun with Carmine steel bullets. I almost died. My partner, Roena, she did die. And Abaddon blames me, at least partly. I wanted to tell you, I really did, I was just too mad. I almost wanted you to find out from someone else, just so you would know how I felt every day that you were gone. How much it hurt not knowing if you were okay, or hurting, or happy . . . without me.”

The hand on her thigh ghosted up her side until he reached her shoulder, then he slipped it under her robe and palmed the smooth, scarless skin on her shoulder.

“I was okay,” he said after a beat, “because I knew you were okay. But I wasn’t happy. I hated that you weren’t with me. If I had come back from that, just to lose you forever-“

His voice cracked and not just from the radio effect.

Mina knew he wasn’t just talking about her brush with death. It was the combination of that, and her threat to leave him, that still had him so shaken.

She sat up enough to look at him again.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said with conviction. “Whatever happens, whatever your deal is, whatever it makes you do, I refuse to let it break us. You were right. We’re stronger than that. And I swear, I will burn everything around us to the ground if anyone tries to take you from me again.”

His smile shifted into what she knew to be his genuine smile.

“That’s the most romantic thing I think you’ve ever said to me.”

Mina didn’t return his smile.

“I said such horrid things to you,” she said, cupping his face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean any of it. I love you. I need you to know that, okay? I love you more than anything.”

“Je t’aime aussi,” he said, and pulled her robe down from her shoulder to kiss where his hand had been.

I love you, too

“Je t’aime chaque jour davantage,” he said, and kissed her throat.

I love you more each day.

“Je t’aime pour toujours,” he said, and kissed her mouth.

I love you forever.

Mina kissed him back, trying not to let her thoughts wander to the stitches she had seen on his lips earlier. Trying not to wonder if they were there now and if they were, how many times had she kissed him like this, not knowing they were there. She still knew almost nothing about why he had left, but she knew one thing for sure.

She ran her fingers through his hair, grasping at the back of his head, intensifying the kiss.

He was hers.

Alastor matched her fervor, parting her lips and meeting her tongue with his own. His hand slipped lower under her robe and caressed her breast, playfully pinching a nipple until it stood taught and hard beneath his fingertips.

She was his.

Mina forced his head back and kissed the exposed skin at the top of his high collared shirt, growling as she bit the soft flesh there just hard enough to mark it.

There was no room for anyone else in their relationship. Whoever bargained with him for control over his soul clearly hadn’t counted on Mina being in the picture. But she was, damn it, and she was not about to back down from a fight.

Alastor’s hand left her chest and found her thigh again, slipping under the robe there and following the path up the back of her leg to her ass, and finding only disappointment with how her legs were pressed tightly together due to the position she was in on his lap.

“Are you still in heat?” he asked, digging his claws into the supple flesh cupped in his hand.

Mina didn’t know how he had found out because she was certain she hadn’t told him, but it didn’t really matter then anyway.

“No, I don’t think so,” she said honestly. Not that she needed to be with the way things were going.

“Pity,” he said, and lightly spanked her. “Stand up.”

She did as she was told and he undid the loosely tied sash of her robe and Mina dutifully helped him get the rest of it off of her. It was tossed onto the mossy ground somewhere behind her and immediately forgotten.

He scooted to the edge of the recliner and pulled her naked body flush against him, kissing her at the bottom of her sternum and slipping a hand between her legs.

Mina shifted her weight, parting her legs to better accommodate the width of his hand, and he began expertly moving a finger between her slick folds.

She kept one hand on his head while the other groped at his shoulder, squeezing tightly as she held on.

In seconds she was gasping and moaning as he worked her up, her legs going weak at the knees, and she had to lean into him more for balance.

“I think you are still in heat,” he said, nipping at the bottom side of her breast. “You’re positively dripping right now.”

“Hmmm,” she whined, rocking her hips a little as he curled a finger inside. “This is all your doing.”

He took a nipple in his mouth and sucked, letting his teeth graze and tease the pale skin around it until it turned bright red as his attention. Then he slipped a second finger inside, careful not to let her feel his claws, and pressed the heal of his hand against her clit.

Alastor must have been right, and the last remnants of her heat cycle were still affecting her because Mina came hard, crying out his name. But it was over too quickly, and she was still aching desperately for him now that he had turned her on.

She shoved him back and he laughed as his back hit the recliner. Then she was kneeling between his knees, undoing his pants and impatiently yanking on them until he obliged and lifted his hips enough for her to pull them down to his thighs.

Mina purred as she buried her face in his crotch, breathing in the musky smell of him and she took his length in one hand and began to stroke. She felt another rush of wetness between her legs and fantasized regretfully about what an amazing day they would have had in bed together if this is how strongly she was desiring him now, in the final hours of her heat.

She bit hard into the flesh of his inner thigh, earning her an appreciative yank on her hair, before she took his shaft into her mouth and began moving up and down, sucking and working her tongue along the bottom vein, feeling him twitch with arousal. His head fell back as she gave his tip special attention, swirling her tongue in small circles around its opening, while pumping her hand at his base. If she knew him well, he wouldn’t let her go down on him for long, so she had to make the most of it while she could.

As expected, it wasn’t long before he was saying her name and grabbing her again by the hair, guiding her back up and on top of him.

Normally she would try to protest a little, but she knew then that they would both prefer for him to cum inside her. Especially with her hormones flooding her brain, she really wanted to feel him fill her up.

She rested her knees on either side of his hips, impaling herself on his length. She was so wet that her slick coated the inside of both her thighs, and his cock slid easily inside. It allowed her to waste no time adjusting before she was rocking her hips against his.

Mina grasped at his shirt, frustrated at the lack of skin-on-skin contact, but the teasing that the barrier between them created helped build up her arousal even further. She rode him just like that, with him nearly completely dressed while she was fully nude.

Alastor stayed leaning back deep in the recliner, enjoying the view of her pleasuring herself on him, and with enough space between them to adjust his arm at the right angle, pressed the pad of his thumb against her clit, so that she rocked against it with every forward motion.

His other hand roamed her body, scratching up her thigh, stroking the end of her tail, massaging her breast; touching her everywhere that it could reach.

After a few minutes, Mina was arching her back and crying out, so he pressed his thumb harder into her clit, working her with fast little circles until her walls were clenching around him once more. He had just barely refrained from cumming himself as he watched her reach the peak of her pleasure and he was glad for it as she caught her breath. Alastor could always tell when she was really sated or not and the needy look on her face told him she needed one more.

He wrapped his arms around her torso as he sat up, letting them both fall into shadow, and reappear naked together on the bed.

They spent a minute just kissing and caressing each other, letting Mina’s desire rebuild and his own retreat just enough to help him last another few minutes. Then he flipped her so that she was on her knees facing away from him, and he grasped his cock, using it to tease and rub against her soaking wet core, until she was crying his name again, her tail raised and held up to the side, giving his eyes a full view of her needy sex. He braced his tip at her entrance and pushed in with a single hard thrust, earning a satisfied moan from his lover, as she arched her back deeper and let him pound into her harder.

He fucked her hard and fast, just the way he knew she liked it when her body desired to be bred. But after several minutes had gone by, he could feel his balls beginning to tighten, his antlers growing large and heavy, and knew he wouldn’t last much longer at that pace. She was right at the edge of her third orgasm but Alastor knew she was overstimulated and needed something to push her over. From experience, he knew the angle wasn’t right for him to stimulate her clit with his hand. He couldn’t reach her there, not with how much she had her thighs pressed against her body.

But his shadows could.

He sent two tentacles to wrap around her, one to caress and pinch at her breasts, while the other went between her legs and began stroking her clit. With his hands free, he dug his nails into the flesh of her thighs and hips, and she pressed herself harder against him in response, begging for him to mark her until she bled.

They came together, her screaming into the bed sheets as he silently gripped the curves of her hips, feeling the blood gather at his fingertips, his rocking becoming slower as her body relaxed beneath his and he finally began to soften inside her.

Then he pulled out and fell into bed beside her, his shadowy tentacles dissipating into nothingness, as she flipped onto her side and spread herself across his chest. Both bitten, scratched, and bleeding from purposeful, territorial marks, and finally fully sated.

She languidly ran her fingers up and down his chest, over the permanent scars that she had memorized over the years. He rubbed circles around the base of her ears, letting the sounds of her purring relax him further.

Eventually, their love marks healed, leaving only traces of blood that would be washed away later. It didn’t matter. They only served as temporary reminders as to what they were. Even the rings they each wore were simply symbolic. What mattered most was each other.

He was hers. And she was his.

And now he was certain that no force would ever be able to take her from him again.

They crawled under the blankets together, uncaring about the late hour of the morning, or the rest of the hotel, and fell asleep wrapped up in each other.

___

They were both startled awake by the sound of the bedroom door flying open and slamming against the wall.

“It stinks in here!” Niffty cried out and frantically began rummaging around the room.

She grabbed at Alastor’s jacket and then quickly darted over to Mina’s robe, tossing them into the laundry bin.

“Why are you two so messy?! Don’t you know where dirty clothes belong? Who raised you? You don’t have to make my job harder, you know.”

Mina and Alastor sat up, watching the tiny woman as she worked her way around their room. Mina cautiously kept the comforter held tightly to her naked chest.

“Are you kidding me?!” Niffty said as she flung the bathroom door open and looked inside. “Mina, you left black fur everywhere in here!!”

“That can’t be sanitary!” she said, pointing at the bayou sitting nestled into the far wall. “How many fireflies having infested the hotel because of that?!”

She scurried over to the end of the bed and began yanking on the blankets.

“Blood? Really? Do you know how hard blood is to get out of silk sheets?!”

“Niffty!” Alastor shouted, grabbing hold of his edge of the sheets before they were pulled any lower down.

Niffty froze and blinked up at her boss, looking shocked that he had raised his voice at her.

“Give us an hour,” he said sharply, then lowered his tone. “Please.”

She looked abashed for a second but then rolled her one large eye at him.

“Fine. But don’t complain to me when your bed isn’t made in time.”

Niffty slammed the door on her way out.

Alastor and Mina looked at each other.

“Didn’t we lock that door?” she asked.

Next Chapter ->

@inuhalfdemon @saccharine-nectarine

Author's Note:

I make it very clear in this chapter that Alastor is depicted as demisexual, and hinted at being demiromantic. Asexuality and aromanticism are spectrums and can vary from person to person, so rather than try and write him in a way that everyone under those labels can relate to, which would be impossible, I've chosen to write him experiencing sexual attraction and love in the same way I do as a demi person. Write what you know, as they say.

Being aroace-spec is part of the reason why reader inserts are something I struggle to write, even if they are more popular. Although I am a cis woman, I relate strongly with Alastor's character, and Mina is based off my own wife rather than myself.

The conversation with Fae was important to write out as a statement of respect towards Alastor's canon asexuality, but also for Mina to understand him better going forward in this story.

That all being said, there will be a lot more smut in this story going forward, including kinks that I would never be interested in real life, but are very fun to explore in the world of fiction. So, if an ace person having a lot of explicit sex is going to bother you, you have been warned. And if you are a smut skimmer and just here for the cartoon dick, please stick around.

[iantos-coffeemachine]

read the torchwood archives book today, and felt like sharing some things because this book gave me a headache (ft the ages of tw3 members and when they allegedly got recruited. "allegedly" because the consistency is bar to none and must be taken with a very large grain of salt).

tldr: information is very inconsistent and i would trust information given in the show more than from this book about timelines any day. i apologise in advance if none of this makes any sense lol

explanation under the cut cause this turned out to be much longer than i thought it would be lmaooo

reblogs always appreciated, helps the post circulate 🫶

these are all documents in the torchwood archives book where it says each member's date of birth (among other info) where it does state clearly that ianto is the youngest (1983) but what i Wasn't aware of was that owen was born only a year (+ 6months) before him

here is also a note from the margin on owen's page

now this is where it gets confusing. because s1 came out in late 2006-early 2007, i assumed that that would be more or less when they were set (me when im Wrong). s1e10 (out of time) is very clearly set during/around christmas, despite coming out before christmas, and e11 coming out on christmas eve, which obviously throws the timeline off. we know s1 of tw occurs sometime during 2007 before doctor who s3e10/11 (when jack runs off to the tardis and briefly comes back to the main series), so that matches up with the dates written in the margin of the document page.

in s2e12 (fragments), it says that by that point ianto had been working for tw3 for 21 months (or it had at least been 21 months since the first time he met jack, but i feel like its safe to assume those two didn't happen that far apart), and if that happened in early 2007, it would mean that the end of s2 would be set sometime in late 2008-early 2009 which also matches up with when doctor who s4 was set, when again jack leaves and goes to the doctor (we know this is after the end of tw s2 because the only people in the hub are jack, gwen, and ianto, therefore happened after owen and tosh's deaths. also other pretty obvious things im almost definately forgetting about).

anyways all that to say that during owen's fragment (ha) of fragments, it says he met jack 4 years before late 2008/9ish, and then had spent "months" looking for jack which would set katie's death at around 2004/5, and his torchwood recruitment at mid-late 2005 but. that doesn't make any sense if in the note in the margin it says 2006.

yk what Also doesn't make any sense? tosh apparently joining tw3 in 2005 (and other things mentioned in the tw archives). because we know fragments was set in 2009 at the latest, where it states that tosh got arrested by UNIT 5 years prior, which would mean at the latest in early 2004, which again contradicts the tw archives.

tosh apparently got arrested by UNIT in early 2005ish, which would make it a year later than possible if fragments is in fact set in 2008/9 and her arrest happened 5 years before it. her being held in UNIT makes this worse cause it would mean she joined tw3 somewhere in mid-late 2005, which makes sense with the dates given in only the book, but with nothing else outside it, since the latest it could possibly be if we followed the show would be 2004.

because of the inconsistencies of recruitment dates (and birthdays of everyone apart from ianto and suzie, but i will Not be getting into that rn), it's pretty difficult to put exact dates on recruitment, but what i've generally managed to gather according to information from the book (and other snippets of lore i can remember off the top of my head) is:

owen: joined tw3 2005 or 2006, making him around 23yrs old when recruited, but is stated to have been born in 1980 in s2e13 (exit wounds) so possibly 25/26.

tosh: joined tw3 either in 2004, or 2005, making her around 28-30yrs old, but stated to have been born in 1981 in exit wounds, so possibly 24-25.

suzie: joined tw3 anywhere between 2000-2005, making her 27-32yrs old at recruitment.

gwen: joined late 2007, making her 29yrs old.

ianto: joined tw3 early 2007, making him 23yrs at time of recruitment, would've turned 24 that same year though.

edit: ianto joined tw1 as a junior researcher in 2005, which would make him 21-22yrs old at the time.

in conclusion: the book seems pretty inconsistent with information. birthdays, recruitment days, loads of other things are off, so despite having spend almost a whole day compiling information for this post from this book, i don't think it's a very trustworthy source for timeline stuff (or much else really). i don't think the writers really bothered with making the timeline consistent and accurate because, let's face it, most fans probably don't care enough to make a complete and accurate timeline down to months and years for a spin-off show from the mid-late 2000's. if you're still reading this, you deserve financial compensation. won't be the one providing it though.

[anarcoqueer1994]

TW: transphobia:(

But it has a fluffy Steddie ending.

After Spring break, after Vecna was defeated, after Max and Eddie lived, after everything had finally settled down, she finally felt comfortable to come out. Stevie, despite being terrified that it could change everything, told her friends she was a girl, and to her delight, every single one of them was loving and supportive. And they supported her as she started to present more femininely in public, starting off with a little make up, but eventually working her way up to dressing more how she felt, even daring to wear pretty little dresses, and growing her hair out. And of course people were mean to her. It was 1980s small town Indiana, after all.

But she had her friends, people who loved her. She and Robin got a place together after her parents kicked her out, disowned her. Anyone of her friends, including the teens still in high school, were ready to pounce on anyone who had anything shitty to say. There was a particularly brutal time when Erica told off some mom who dared to insinuate that Stevie, because of who she was, was dangerous, perverted.

And Stevie's own mean girl streak came back in full force, when needed. She wasn't above bitching out some asshole who deserved it.

During this time, other things changed too. Eddie, who she had saved, carried out of the Upside-Down, stayed by his hospital bed for weeks, became one of her closest friends. They spent so much time together, Stevie loving how comfortable Eddie made her feel. Little does she know, Eddie, had fallen head over heels for her.

Unfortunately for him, Stevie was with someone else; Tommy. After she had come out, she had run into him. She had been wearing light, pretty makeup, and a soft pink skirt that Nancy had given her. She had been ready for a fight, ready for Tommy to insult her, berate her, but he didn't. Instead, he apologized for everything. He apologized for high school, for not being a better friend, and asked if they could maybe try again.

And Stevie knew what it felt like to want to change, to want another chance, so maybe against her better judgment, she gave him a chance. And for a while, things seemed better. After a few months, Tommy even confessed his feeling for her, told her she was beautiful, asked her out, and she said yes. They went to a basketball game that night, and had the time of their life.

But it's been a year, and their relationship isn't perfect. It's hard and they have to work at it but Stevie was always willing to give Tommy another chance. To her friends though, they watched on as Tommy repeatively would slip into his old ways, and how he wasn't always the nicest to her. But she kept taking him back, and they didn't know why. Unbeknownst to them, though, she was desperate for someone to love her romantically and with how mean people could be to a transwoman, she convinced herself, this was her only chance.

That all changed one night. Eddie was at home, alone in the trailer, as Wayne was at work. It was raining hard, and thunder continuously shook the trailer. He had been watching some b-rated horror film, when a pound at the door nearly caused him to jump out of his skin. He wasn't expecting anyone.

He cautiously heads to the door and opens it, only to find Stevie standing in the rain, makeup running, and looking like she was about to break. Without thinking, he throws his arms around her, pulling her in close. She instinctively buries her head in the crook of his neck. He feels silent tears against his skin.

He pet her hair softly, wanting to know what has made his usually strong friend crumble. He had seen Stevie tear monsters in half, heard stories about how she endured the torment of the Russians, hell, she deals with terrible, mean people every day. And yet, here she is looking so hurt in his arms.

After a minute, Eddie pulls away slightly. "Hey, let's get you inside, princess. You're going to get sick." Eddie says gently, the pet name came out without a second thought.

This seems to snap Stevie out of it, pulling away. "Oh my God, Eds. I am so sorry, I don't know why I came here." Guilt starts to creep in over burdening Eddie with her problems. "I...um, I'm just going to go home." She starts to back down the steps. But she doesn't get far before Eddie has gently grabbed her wrist.

"No, Stevie. Come in, please?" Eddie gently implores, knowing how she keeps things bottled up, how she is always there for his problems, everyone's problems.

She wants to say no, but she is helpless against Eddie’s requests. She ignores the feeling in the back of her head that secretly wants more from Eddie, focuses on how good of a friend he is instead. She timidly nods her head, following Eddie in.

She stands shivering in the doorway, not wanting to sit down and get the furniture wet. She is drenched from standing in the rain. Eddie wonders how long she has been standing there before working up the courage to knock.

She doesn't say anything as Eddie walks to his bedroom, bringing back dry clothes a moment later. Luckily, he has the soft, pretty yellow cardigan she left here last time they smoked together. It is distinctly feminine, knowing that sometimes, when Stevie wears more traditionally masculine items, she gets in her own head and experiences a disconnect. Robin explained it as dysphoria once. The pretty sweater softens the plain oversized Metallica T-shirt and sweat pants he hands her. She shyly takes the clothing to the bathroom, where she changes, coming out minutes later.

When she does, Eddie is waiting on the couch. "Thanks." She says uncharacteristically soft, as she takes a seat next to Eddie on the couch.

"No problem." He tries to stay calm, trying not to get mad at whatever caused his favorite girl...his favorite person, to get so upset.

He twists his body, so they are both looking at each other. "So, are you going to tell me what happened?"

Stevie looks away, embarrassment covering her face. "It's dumb."

"Stevie, I bet it's not. Whatever made you look like that couldn't be dumb." Eddie reassures.

"It's...um Tommy." She starts, and immediately Eddie sees red. He has watched as Tommy continuously let her down. But he has never seen it be this bad. He tries to not lose it.

"What did that piece of shit do?" He spits despite his best efforts.

"Eds..." She says gently.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I just don't like how he treats you."

"I, um, agree, actually. I don't like how he treats me either. I think it's really over this time." She says, voice trying to sound confident but wavering anyway.

Eddie is not sure if he believes that. Tommy has hurt her before, and she has taken him back. But he does not let his doubt show on his face. "What happened?"

~~

She thought it was going to be a good day. Tommy had taken them to a Hoosier's game, one of Stevie's favorite teams. It was supposed to be fun. But when they got there, Tommy kept his distance. He barely talked to her, touched her, really did anything to indicate he knew her, let alone that they were dating. It made her feel terrible the entire game.

This was compounded by the fact that quite a few people around them made comments about her. She wasn't cis passing, not having the money to do anything medical, and not really wanting to yet. And she was fine with that. She still had felt beautiful today when she had pulled her hair up in a pink scrunchie and donned a floral crop top and jean shorts that Robin and Eddie had bought for her. She had pretty soft eyeshadow and a pink lip gloss, and was wearing the pair of purple earings Nancy gave her. But people around them, weren't so nice, made jokes and hateful remarks, calling her a tranny or faggot. And she was sadly used to this, knew how to bite back with bitchy words, but it hurt that Tommy didn't say anything, just pretended he did not know her. To top it off, a pretty blonde girl sitting nearby was flirting with him the entire game, and he didn't stop it, actually flirted back as Stevie watched.

After the game, in the car ride home, Stevie sat quietly stewing in her own anger and hurt until Tommy put his hand on her thigh and she pushed him away.

"Hey baby, what's wrong?" He asks dumbly.

"Are you kidding me?" She snaps.

"What?" He feigns ignorance.

"You literally pretended like I did not exist the entire game! All those assholes were insulting me and you pretended you didn't know me! You were too busy flirting with that other girl! You wouldn’t even hold my hand and but you were all over her.

"Oh, come on, baby." He pleads as he drives. "You know what kind of attention you draw to yourself. Why don't you just wear your old clothes when we go out? People would just think we are just two guys hanging out."

The words cut deep, but Stevie tries not to show it, keeps up her best bitch face. "But we aren't two guys...I'm your girlfriend. And you said you liked my outfits."

"I do like your little outfits, you know I think you look sexy. But maybe they should just be between us, for when we are alone and can have some fun. " He tries to say smoothly.

Stevie's heart drops, she can't hide the agony, the pain in her voice. "Wait...is that all I am to you? The way I dress and look is just some weird fetish? Just for you to get off on?"

"It's not like that!" Tommy says defensively. "It just in public, it's embarrassing when you wear girls' clothes because it's not like you're a real..." He stops short, realizing what just came out of his mouth.

Stevie closes her eyes, trying to will away the tears that she felt coming on but it is useless. "Not a real what, Tommy?" She chokes out.

"That's not what I meant!" Tommy puts his hand up as he comes to a stop light now back in Hawkins.

"Come on just say what we both know you're thinking! Not a real woman!" Stevie is shouting now through her tears. The weather outside getting worse, rain starting to fall.

"Stevie, I didn’t mean it..." He says pathetically.

Stevie looks down, shakes her head. In a defeated voice, she whispers. "Yes, you did." Without a second thought she gets out his car, running in the rain away from him. She kept running until she was Eddie’s doorstep. Tommy didn't bother to go after her.

~~

Stevie finds herself in tears again as she finishes recounting what happened. Eddie is practically shaking, angry over what Tommy did to this beautiful, wonderful human being overtaking him.

"I'm going to fucking kill him!" Eddie spits.

Suddenly, Stevie grabs his hand, holding it in her lap. "No, Eds. He isn't worth it, okay?"

He meets her eyes, his face softening when he sees all the pain dancing in her brown eyes, replacing the sparkle that usually takes refuge there. "Oh Stevie..." He says her name so reverently, like a prayer almost. He places his free hand on her cheek, she leaning into it. "You know what he said, isn't true, right?"

"I...I know." She lets out a sad sigh. "I just thought he was one of the people who actually saw me for who I really am, I thought he accepted me. For fuck sakes, we've been friends since we were 12. But I'm an idiot who was so desperate for someone to love me that I let him use me. And I am so fucking stupid to think someone would actually want to be with someone like me..."

Eddie’s feels a pang in his heart, hating to see how small Tommy made Stevie feel. He would never make her feel less than, make her feel small. "I don’t think you're stupid. Please don't say that..." He whispers, hand still resting against her face.

"Eddie..." That voice in the back of her head that always has wanted more, the voice she tries to ignore because she wasn't single and Eddie couldn't possibly feel the same way, is trying to push through.

"Stevie, can I ask you something?" His voice is gentle.

"Yea, anything."

"Why did you come here? Why didn’t you go home, crawl in Robin's bed and cry together?" Eddie feels invasive asking but the words already left his mouth.

Stevie pulls away, looking anywhere but at Eddie, a blush showing through her tear stained face. "I...I don't know. I didn't choose to, like...consciously. I just started running and my body brought me here...I'm sorry..." she is obviously embarrassed.

"Hey, hey, hey. Look at me, kitten." The name elicits a deeper shade of pink on her face. She nervously looks up, meeting Eddie’s eyes once again. He scoots closer, taking both of her hands in his, being gentler than he ever is. His loud over the top attitude replaced with a softness reserved only for Stevie. "I'm glad you came. How else would I have been able to tell you that if...if you would let me, I would never make you cry like this. You're much too pretty to have such ugly words thrown at you. Tommy doesn't know how much of an idiot he is because you're great, Stevie. I love everything about you, even when you make me watch some sports thing on TV. " He cracks a smile. Eddie knows he is taking a big risk, practically laying his heart out on the table for all to see. But how can he not when the prettiest girl in the world is sitting here in front of him, terrified that no one will love her.

A beat passes. Then two, before Stevie is smiling big, eyes still blood shot, but happiness shining through. "You really mean that, Eds?"

Eddie lets go of a breath he did not know he was holding. He lets out a little breathy laugh, smiling from ear to ear. "Cross my heart, princess. Can I tell you a secret?"

"Yea, anything." She scoots closer, legs folded up underneath her practically touching Eddie's.

"I hated Tommy."

"Obviously. " Stevie cuts him off. "You literally named the villain of your last campaign "Thomas the Horrible." She giggles.

"Yea, I guess I wasn't so secretive about that." He pulls his hair across his blushing face. "But most of me hated him because of how he treated you, but another part of me, a big part of me, was jealous that he got the girl of my dreams."

Stevie is blushing even more before playfully hitting Eddie’s shoulder. "You're such a sap!"

"Yea, I am." Eddie readily admits.

"But it's okay... I like it. I like you, Eds. I've liked you since I saw you in the halls my freshmen year. And over the past year and half, since Vecna, since I thought I lost you for good, I realized that I love you. I just never thought you could see me like that."

"Like what?" Eddie whispers as he leans in, forehead resting against Stevie's.

"Like your girlfriend." Stevie admits.

"I would be the luckiest guy in the world to have you as my girlfriend, kitten." He puts his hands on either side of Stevie's face before pressing a his lips against hers. Stevie's lips are soft and warm, and feel great against his admittedly chapped lips. She tastes like strawberries.

"Love you too, Stevie." He says as they pull apart.

And it's like second nature as Stevie settles against him, cuddling together watching TV. It's like they were always meant to fit together. And for the first time in a long time, Stevie was content.

Thanks for reading! Feeling very gender dysphoric and need some fluff to feel better. Also I totally picture Stevie going to Eddie’s shows in a black leather mini skirt, and fishnets and a cropped Corroded Coffin shirt , just to get Eddie riled up while he was on stage.

[i-write-hurt-not-comfort]

@yuukanaazu hi there! thank u for your question, i would LOVE to talk about this. i've thought about this so much and i love the who Mukami backstory. i would like to disclaim i'm not a history expert but i've researched this a fuck ton. whilst a lot of the Mukami routes have bits of the Romanian history lore scattered around, the most lore comes from Ruki's MB but especially his LE, so i'm going to be using that as my main source.

putting this under a cut here because it's very long. TW for discussions of the Romanian orphan crisis.

so right off the bat in MB, we see Ruki clearly has this trauma surrounding something which happened in an eastern european nation, as seen in this manga panel when he's sitting in class and the teacher is talking about an outbreak of orphans.

although they don't SAY Romania, it's pretty heavily implied that it's Romania as this was where the infamous orphan crisis occurred and we know the Mukami's met in an orphanage. the REAL confirmation of what actually happened in Romania comes from Ruki's LE.

credit where credit is due, rejet did alright with the Romania lore. in the 1960s, Romania was under a dictatorship by Ceaușescu. Ceaușescu's socialist policies had Romania and its capital Bucharest in declining conditions. wild-spread poverty caused children to run away from home so there were already some children on the streets. Decree 770 was enacted in 1966 which banned abortion and contraception with the hope of population growth directly leading to economic growth.

Ruki's father was supposedly a politician during the time of Decree 770 being enacted. it is implied Karlheinz convinced Ceaușescu to impose Decree 770 to cause wide-spread casualties particularly in children and use these for ghoul experiments. Karlheinz also convinced Ceaușescu to impose higher taxes and embezzle public funds.

it's unclear exactly when Ruki's father was dismissed from his political position, but we see it happen in LE and he becomes an alcoholic. over the next few years, birth rates would increase substantially, especially over 1967, 1968 and 1969 when the policy was still knew. parents who were unable to take care of their children gave them up to orphanages. by 1977, parents were taxed for being childless. potentially this is when Ruki's father dies and they all enter the orphanage.

children ran away from home due to parents being overloaded with children and poverty stricken. by the 1980s, conditions in the orphanages had significantly declined. Ceaușescu was killed in December 1989. supposedly, Kalrheinz was assassinated at the end of the revolution too, and was hung in public, but his corpse disappeared.

conditions in the orphanages were as follows:

Children did not have access to food, water, medicine or basic needs

Many were not educated and were illiterate 

Hygiene was below standard and sexual assault common 

HIV/AIDS spread throughout orphanages particularly in the 1980s 

Military run orphanages often saw violent child abuse 

Children self-harmed and abused aurolac, a type of paint inhaled as a solvent (commonly distributed around Bucharest during this period right through to common times) 

Gangs were formed inside and outside the orphanages which led to further violence

There weren't enough beds 

Some children were sold off as slaves for money or to be abused (Kou is an example of this) 

Disabled children were sent to special places and were treated the worst

the Mukami's lore is mostly implied from theories, and the bullet points i'm about to drop are only my perspective. though it is based off canon events.

here, we are going to assume the timeline matchup or make some kind of sense…

it DOES kind of make sense if you imagine the Mukami's to be born in 1966/67 due to the abortion ban

thus they would be around age 10-11 in 1977 when they all entered the orphanages

obviously the orphanages were overcrowded by this point in time, hence the conditions were so bad 

Azusa was at the orphanage first and when Ruki arrived, he followed him around

Ruki was creeped out at first but eventually came to see Azusa as a younger brother

then Ruki meets Kou when he's in the middle of trying to kill himself and calls him a loser 

Yuma joined the orphanage last, and became friends with everyone after meeting Kou in the punishment cell 

so the order is Azusa, then Ruki, then Kou, and then Yuma 

Ruki

Ruki's father was a politician… until he wasn't

when Decree 770 was enacted, he turned into an alcoholic and began abusing Ruki's mother

it's explained in Ruki's LE Maniac Epilogue and it's a bit vague but I do think the implication is that Ceaușescu imposing higher taxes (potentially the childless tax in 1977) is what caused Ruki's father's dismissal 

this means Ruki was a baby when Decree 770 was first enacted but he was pampered so he didn't know that was going on in the real world 

1977, Ruki's father was fired then committed suicide, his mother had an affair and ran off, and Ruki entered the orphanage

he was beaten up a lot for being an ex-aristocrat 

Kou

Kou was born to an aristocratic family but they were exiled when he was still young 

(i headcanon his parents being from another country, possibly Italy considering his name was Emilio) 

he was off-handed to a nanny but she abandoned him when he was young

she potentially abandoned him due to having to care for too many orphans (early 1970s)

kou spent most his childhood on the streets, at which point he was shown to beg for food and money

he exchanged this (IN CANON!!) for aurolac (which i write about here) 

eventually he was taken into the orphanage, right when some army officers shot some people in front of him 

there he was sold off to aristocrats, aka slavery, and gouged out his eye

continued using aurolac in the orphanage

Yuma

i will assume he ended up in Bucharest around mid-1970s

his farming family in the village which burnt down was poor due to socialist policies and higher taxes 

he was in a gang as the name Bear and was one day thrown into the orphanage when everyone else was shot 

his leader Lucks had been shown to be prostituting himself to get money for the gang

Yuma steals food from the orphanage and got into a lot of fights due to people insulting his gang

Azusa

Azusa was raised by Romani people

it isn't clear whether he was born into a Romani family or whether he was born accidentally and abandoned and then taken in by the Romani people 

i personally headcanons the former 

he was weak compared to everyone and Justin, Melissa and Christina beat him up a lot

one day they were killed for burglary and Azusa cried

then he passed out in front of a shop and was sent to the orphanage 

he enjoys getting beaten up at the orphanage and that's when he meets Ruki 

i am sorry that this is SO LONG. if you made it to the end, thank u and congratulations. i love this lore. if you want it saved somewhere, i have it all here (+ more information).