#So I thought it might be a dream and willed myself to wake up but I guess I only woke up into that other dream where it already was 10-11AM | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writethrough · 1 year

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feel free to imagine a sexy interpretation. Also, I'm going to add a loss of virginity here just for fun. In this scenario, Dream is finally willing to admit to himself that he loves the reader, but he's still not willing to confess (and he's also still a possessive/obsessive jerk), so instead he chases after the woman's dreams, especially until even your wet dreams. And 2 possible catalysts here, either Dream sees that the reader is dreaming about having sex with someone else and becomes insanely jealous or he sees someone flirting with the reader in the waking world and becomes insanely jealous XD. This is so Dream, like a king, he feels entitled to the reader and his time, and while he's trying to work up the courage to confess, he makes sure the reader can't hook up with anyone else.

I Am Yours, But Are You Mine

(Morpheus x Female Reader)

Warnings: Minor language, suggestive situations, kinda possessive Morpheus

Word Count: 1651

A/N: Oh my goodness, thank you so much for being so patient! Unfortunately, Morpheus has been one of those characters that I haven't been as motivated to write. And I hate forcing myself to write when I'm uninspired. Thankfully, I found sparks of it here and there.

I tried to follow your request as truly as I could (the lost of virginity didn't quite make it), but I ran with your possible catalyst options! I do think I need to work on my jealous/entitled Morpheus, though. I think he could've turned out better.

Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it! And thank you for requesting it!

Images of you and that human haunted him. It was all he could think about as he sat on the staircase to his throne. How that man approached you. How he smiled, and you returned it. How he made you laugh, soft and delicate.

Morpheus’ jaw tightened, and he snapped his book shut.

Was it too late?

Had he lost you before he could have you?

He closed his eyes, trying to fight those thoughts with the ones of you and him.

How, when Morpheus appeared, you greeted him with warmth and tenderness. How you touched his arm in reassurance or when you were startled. You knew he would protect you. It was instinctual how you moved closer and tucked yourself behind him.

He had never felt more vital.

And yet, earlier, you had that same kindness for that man.

How long had you known him? When did you meet him? What was he to you?

You would have told Morpheus about any romantic partners.

His fist clenched as his arm hung off his knee.

To think, mere days ago, he had realized that he loved you. He would have been content to dedicate himself to you silently. An ever-present confidant for his heart’s deepest desire. How quickly things could change.

He had to do something.

—

Morpheus had grown more agitated throughout the day. The more he thought about you and that man, the darker his mind became.

He had finished crafting new nightmares when he sensed you had entered the Dreaming.

He had to go to you. He needed to know what that man wanted from you—and if you wanted anything from him.

You didn’t need anything from that human.

He was quick to find you within your dream.

A replica of your home, which he found strange. Rarely did your dreams play out here. You were usually conscious within the Dreaming. And his heart went out to you, knowing your day must have been stressful.

He peered into your room and nearly unleashed every nightmare in his realm.

You were laid bare with that man hovering over you.

Morpheus’ knuckles whitened. And before he could think better—before he could calm himself. He swiped the dream away and sent you into the Waking World.

—

You woke with a frustrated groan.

Of course. Of course, you had to wake up when things were getting good.

You scrunched your nose when you recalled who had been in your dream.

You sighed. At least your subconscious knew not to dream about Morpheus in his kingdom. You might actually die if that happened.

Though, the replacement for him wasn’t all bad. You had noticed the similarities when you met him right away. Tall, black hair, lithe, but his eyes were brown and not the blue you had come to love. And where Morpheus’ presence held authority and power, the stranger’s had a shyness, a quiet confidence that you may have been attracted to in a different time. However, you only wanted one being.

You stretched before climbing out of bed.

You weren’t sure when you realized you loved Morpheus, but after you internalized it, you promised to never act on it.

There had to be hundreds, if not thousands, of creatures who had fallen for the Dream King. And yet, you had only heard of two that captured his attention. Who were you to think you stood a chance of being his? He was one of the most important beings in existence. You were a measly human—here and gone before he could blink.

You shook your head.

You were grateful for Morpheus’ friendship. He listened and held an interest in you that you couldn’t understand. You would gladly take whatever relationship you could have with him.

You slowly got ready for your day. You had more time with your early waking and decided to do more with your makeup. It had been years since you applied makeup for someone else’s benefit. But you wondered if Morpheus would notice anything different.

Scrunching your nose again, you rid that thought from your mind. Morpheus didn’t care about how you looked. He’d told you appearances meant little to him, that it was dreaming that held someone’s true soul.

You wished you could know his.

—

Morpheus would’ve broken his teeth if he were human—and perhaps his wrist, too, if he squeezed any tighter.

He stood with his hands behind his back, staring out the stained glass windows in his throne room.

He had stopped your dream from continuing, but the reality was different.

His entire arsenal of power was at his disposal. Morpheus could do whatever he wished to that human, but that would only end in you being upset with him—or furious if extreme enough.

No, Morpheus had to prove himself. He had to make you see that he was the only one for you—that only he could provide for and protect you—stand by you in the way you deserved.

And he’d do so tonight.

—

Morpheus appeared in your kitchen doorway, mind racing. Anger and fear and uncertainty beneath a stony exterior.

And then he saw you. As stunning as ever.

And it all vanished.

All except his desire to tell you.

Your kindness and strength had lured him to you the moment you met. He’d come to know how closely you held those you cared about, and somehow, he was one of them.

And the thought of letting you go, of you choosing someone else…he couldn’t fathom that.

You brought him so much peace.

You spun from your refrigerator to your island, produce in hand, and finally saw him.

“Shit, Morpheus!” You held a hand to your heart. “Give me a warning next time.”

His face remained as still as ever, but you swore you saw a passing gleam in his eyes.

“My sincerest apologies,” he said, stepping toward you.

You waved it away, half believing him.

“Want anything to drink?” you asked, chopping the first ingredient.

He scanned the food, but you weren’t entirely sure he was seeing it.

“I must ask something of you,” he said.

“Okay.” You placed the knife down. “What is it?”

“Have you found someone?”

You tilted your head, brow pinched. “Found someone?”

Morpheus never hesitated when speaking—and you weren’t sure that was the word for it now—but something made him consider his next question carefully.

“Are you spoken for?”

You opened your mouth, then closed it, slowly connecting the dots.

“Are you asking if I’m dating anyone?” Your heart picked up. He had never asked something so intimate before.

“Yes.”

“No.” You licked your lips. “No. What brought this on?”

The faintest pink graced his cheeks. His eyes shifted to the side, then back.

“...You dreamt of him.” He breathed like something terrible would happen if he spoke louder.

Your heart clenched at his look of betrayal, trying to recall what he meant. Then, your eyes widened. He must have seen what happened at the coffee shop.

“Are you talking about that guy who came up to me?” you asked.

Morpheus shifted his chin downward, the most movement he used for a nod, and didn’t break eye contact.

“Morpheus…I don’t even remember his name,” you said, being as gentle with him as possible.

The space between his brows twitched. “You dreamt of him.”

Your head dropped in embarrassment.

You shrugged. “It’s been a while.”

It wasn’t much of an explanation. Although the guy had been attractive, you weren’t interested in him when he spoke—something unnecessary in dreams. All he had to do was get the job done, but with Morpheus' attitude, you could guess why that dream ended before anything could happen.

“Are you…jealous?” you asked.

“I am a king. I do not experience jealousy.” His head lifted ever so slightly.

“Historically, you do,” you said pointedly, trying to hide your smirk.

He hummed as if annoyed, but you knew better. You had stumped him.

“You are fortunate I hold you dear,” he said. “Not many can speak to me as such.”

You laughed breathily and stepped forward, grateful your answer pacified him.

You regarded him carefully. The smooth plains of his face, the sharp lines of his jaw and nose, his blue eyes. His lips. Your feelings for Morpheus were bubbling to the surface in a way you couldn’t ignore, and to think he possibly returned them? It nearly sent your head spinning.

“You know…I wouldn’t mind if you were a little jealous,” you said.

“And why is that?” He arched a brow, trying to remain composed.

“Because then it would mean you share my feelings,” you whispered. “It would mean I could kiss y—”

Lips were on yours—warm and powerful, a surge of pent-up passion. He’d waited far too long to taste you, to know the curves of your hips and the dip in your spine.

Your body melded into his as if he was the lock and you were the key. You opened him up to things he never thought he’d want to experience again. And you kept his secrets. You protected him. Made him feel safe. He was desperate to do the same for you.

You pulled away, but Morpheus followed, giving you quick kisses until you put a hand on his chest, laughing.

“Just…give me a second.” You inhaled. “One of us needs to breathe.”

The faintest pink graced his cheeks, and you grinned.

“I apologize. It slipped my mind,” Morpheus said.

You shook your head. “Don’t. Never apologize for doing that.”

You pecked his cheek, then the corner of his mouth, and lingered just beyond his lips.

“Guess I have someone else to dream about,” you whispered, each word brushing your lips against his.

He let out a low rumble. “There is no need to dream.”

His hands grasped the back of your neck and pulled you into him. You moaned when his sand whirled around you, knowing exactly where you were headed.

Taglist: @sayumiht, @hatterripper31, @snowsatsu, @1950schick, @navs-bhat, @bookshelf-dust, @sapphireonline

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factorialsotherfandoms · 8 months

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Philza looks better in his usual clothes, Bad thinks, but still terrible. Perched on a lamp between his children's beds, a blanket pulled tight across his shoulders, sleep deprivation in his eyes... Bad is not really surprised he has called someone to speak to, just is confused as to why its him.

Bad has better things to do. Like look for the eggs. And search for the eggs. And interrogate Federation Workers about the eggs.

But then, Philza also has better things to do than just sit there and stare at him.

So Bad stares back.

Eventually, eventually, Philza breaks the stalemate and speaks.

"What do you know of dreams?"

Bad raises an eyebrow at the comment, unsure what that could lead to, and even more confused as to why it was him called here to handle this.

In the end, he settles for the simplest answer. "People have them when they sleep."

Philza hums in return, eyes skittering a little frantically. He adjusts his position to be a little higher, but holds himself lower, peering down, "… you know my wife, yes?"

Now there is a loaded question. Bad tilts his head to one side.

"Kristin."

"Yes," Bad answers, seeing no reason to hide it now. Part-time grim reaper, Goddess of Death... Of course her husband knows something. "I work for her, on occasion."

"And you would kill anyone - myself, yourself - if we were a threat to the eggs?"

"Yes."

"Even Skeppy?"

Bad's nose twitches, warning in his tone. "He's not /here/, Philza."

Philza gives Bad an unimpressed look.

"If he was /somehow/ a threat to Dapper? Yes. Happy?"

Somehow Philza looks like he both tenses and relaxes at that answer. He moves as though to sit on the lamp he is perching on, before realising what he is doing and slipping onto the mossy floor.

"I had a dream while I was asleep," Philza says instead of answering the question. "But, the longer I am awake, the less like a dream it seems."

"Dreams usually work the other way," Bad frowns, checking his evidence in his mind. He does not really know much - Philza was missing for nine days, claims to have been asleep and woke up in his basement, and a potato and a poppy appeared on his person in that time. Bad suspects the Federation has done something to the old crow, probably made him some sort of sleeper agent, but… If Philza is willing to trust him, Bad supposes he can give him the benefit of the doubt and assume any betrayal is unwilling.

"I remember it too well," Philza replies, and Bad frowns some more - it is the opposite reaction most people have to the Federation. "I don't usually remember my dreams, or have them that vivid, or have space so perfect in them. I laughed it off to Tubbo, pretended I usually have dreams like that, but… Even my dreams of my world are not as clear as that."

"And you were left with the potato and the poppy after," Bad keeps his voice level. He tries very hard to keep his voice level as his mind runs away, wondering what is up. "You don't usually wake up in the basement either?"

"I should wake up where I fall asleep," Philza points at the chair. "I sat down, I told myself I wouldn't spend a night anywhere else until the eggs were back. I dreamt. I woke up in the basement."

There's something a bit distant to Philza's voice which Bad does not like, but does not like in the way of children crying in their rooms, or the thought of Baghera alone in the Federation's hands, or the silence which now reigns over his dungeon-home. He does not like it in ways of betrayal and pain and fire, either, but he is old. He knows better how to deal with those.

"… Are you not going to ask me?" Philza asks.

"Do I need to?" Bad asks back.

It must be the correct answer, as Philza gives a laugh.

"In the maybe-dream, I woke up in the chair," Philza says, pointing towards it. "The trapdoor was gone - it might have been when I went to bed, too, but the memory is hazy."

Interesting, Bad would say. He half remembers the trap door being missing on Monday as well, when he went to check on Chayanne and Tallulah's beds, but in not paying attention… It was there by Saturday, so Bad really is not sure either if he made that up.

"I thought I heard a sound in the basement, so I went to look. There was a box with two new pot plants, one on each side. The box was… one of those new ones, like Toby has on his burnt up platform? The dyeable ones - it was Tallulah's purple. Inside were a lot of poppies, and a book."

"A book?"

"Right," Philza frowns as he talks, sinking deeper into the mossy floor. "I don't remember exactly what it said, but it was about an old crow whose children were missing. I thought… I think I thought it was Tallulah sassing me - you know how it is - for not being here when they hurt… At the end was an instruction to travel light, and a set of coordinates."

It sounds like a trap. Bad doesn't say that - he knows Philza must know that, but he also knows that if he saw something written maybe by Dapper… Bad wouldn't hesitate to do what it said. Not a chance, not when his child might need him. So, Bad doesn't say anything, he just nods.

"Do you know my nest?" Philza asks, almost out of the blue.

"Your nest?" Bad blinks, trying to string it together.

Philza is already moving for the nearby warp access. "I'll leave a red sharestone. If you walk to spawn, it'll be ready by the time you get there. You should probably have it, just… bring anyone else. Not even Dapper - the eggs bought Tubbo, but nobody else knows. It's our safe place. But… nowhere's really safe. And I can't always be there to save them."

It's a branch of trust that Bad has been offered, one he isn't sure he deserves but is absolutely not going to turn down. If Philza's children like it then, yes, he needs to know. In case they are ever hurt there, in case one of the children needs their uncle Bad.

He walks the shirt distance to spawn, chewing over so far. It's not hard to work out why Philza is in a spin, but Bad is missing some of the puzzle. He hates having half of an answer more than none at all, but at least he seems to be getting everything about /this/ question the old bird knows.

Sure enough, by the time he has worked out which of the sharestones Philza meant by the red one, there's another option just reading 'bad uppies?'.

It's kinda funny, and funnier still when he takes it and ends up… up. High in the sky, so high he can see the peaks of great pillars of stone, and the top of a fortress-dungeon, but not the floor.

"Take the warpstone," Philza gestures to the centre as he puts the sharestone away. "Just in case."

"Just in case," Bad repeats.

The warpstone is itself called 'uppies', and it is a nest that is not quite a nest. It is suspended in the air, not in a tree, and made of harsh stone not twigs. A few bits of furniture are scattered about, however, and a brightly coloured rug. Signs from the children learning new words, and a lip at the edge to stop anyone tripping to their demise. If Bad's timeline is correct about the word learning task, it must have been the last place Philza took his children before he left for a week - and they vanished.

"The coordinates were near here," Philza says, then pauses. "Not super close, but closer than anything else. About another thousand south, if you have your glider?"

"Not grapples?"

"I remember the exact route I took in the dream, not the numbers," Philza shrugs a little, smiles self-depreciatingly. "Never was any good with numbers or words. If I do it differently, we might not get there." Bad hums, and nods - to know the entire route in a dream? Very strange - and follows as Philza jumps from the southern edge. Follows him to one snowy peak.

"I stopped here to get my stamina back," Philza explains when Bad also lands. "I was in a rush for my eggs, but I know how bad that fall can be."

Bad nods again; they continue.

They land at the edge of some water and a village, then walk the rest of the way in silence. Philza's steps are very certain, too certain to have only walked it once in a dream and a second time guided by one, and Bad checks over his inventory.

Just in case it is a trap. He doesn't think Philza could fake this confusion enough to willingly lead him into a trap, but that only stops it happening if he knows what he's doing.

Philza leads Bad to a patch of hill where the trees are strangely cut. A couple of hummingbirds sit, tame, on the floor.

"There was a giant birdhouse here," Philza says. "It was cute - I remember thinking Chayanne and Tallulah had built it. Should really have noticed the windows were made of reinforced concrete," another, self-hating chuckle. "Inside… so many hummingbirds. And… And Chayanne's floaty, and Tallulah's hat. Next to them was a book. I explored a little, looking to see if the eggs, were there, before going back for it - 'A Cage for a Cage' the book read."

From Philza's flinch that means something - Bad isn't sure what, but he can make a few guesses.

"Then Cucurucho was behind me, laughing. I begged him, threatened him, asked for the eggs. But he just kept laughing as he ran out of the door. Sealed me in with reinforced something or other 'I hope you enjoy the island' my ass."

Philza seethes, and Bad expects him done. He still gives him a moment before asking, "and then you woke up?"

"No," Philza frowns further. "That's the strange part. I cried myself to sleep wrapped around their items. I dreamt… more like I usually dream - of my home, of my hardcore world, small glimpses. /Then/ I woke up. Still in the birdhouse. I knew it had been a long time, then, days at least - I was hungry despite all the golden apples. The hummingbirds were sat on me, but the book and the eggs' things? Gone."

Dreams inside dreams? A continuious narrative broken by another sleep? A walk remembered fully and that maps onto reality one to one? Bad can see why Philza is suspicious.

"The door was different, too, no longer a security door but this cute flower covered thing. When I opened it, it just… lead me out. And there was a path over… this way?" Philza leads Bad along, maybe a minute's walk through the trees at most.

"You remember in the nether there were the half destroyed Federation booths?"

Bad nods; he does.

"There was… kinda like one of those, just here. Two partial walls, a bit of a roof, some floor. A table with two chairs - Cucurucho at one, watching me. I screamed for him to give my eggs back. He gave me a book. It…" Philza takes a deep breath. "It teased me for falling for the trap so easily, then it told me I had to wake up - if I didn't wake up soon, I never would."

Dream fudgery, maybe? Bad already suspects memory alteration, so the Federation implanting dreams, or otherwise messing with them, is not impossible. Or, perhaps, making reality into something dreamlike.

Bad knows Philza was neither in his chair nor in his basement last night, but Philza doesn't seem to.

"I was confused, then I woke up in the basement, right by where the box had been. But no box, all my items from before back… just with the extra poppy and potato in my inventory. And Pierre yelling outside asking if I was okay. Wasn't really time not to be, what with the Duck's messgae starting right after he dragged me down to spawn."

Bad hmms to himself and watches Philza check the floor again, looking for quartz that very definitely isn't there. He is not really sure what the angel wants from him. It certainly doesn't make Bad less suspicious - the Federation could easily have implanted other orders into his dreams, ones Philza won't know about until they are triggered - but maybe that's the point.

"I don't sleep like that, either. Never that long. Too easy for someone to sneak up on you," Philza frowns. "Tubbo suggested the food at the party was drugged, but for all I took I barely ate any. Why wouldn't someone else have passed out too?"

"Tubbo's… interesting," Bad offers, not even sure what he means by that himself.

Philza laughs, and its something a little manic, "I was asleep a week and despite Fit and Pac's best efforts he broke into the Federation twice, found the room the happy pills were forced on people, and got shot. And made enough factories I pass out from the air quality if I walk too fast through his base. Interesting's a word for it, mate."

"The Federation is messing with your brain," Bad says, rather than address the imploding disaster which is Tubbo. "I don't know what exactly, but… while you were asleep, people loosing memories was talk of the island."

"I /know/," Philza snaps. "How do you think I don't know they've done something to me? Who the fudge else would be able to break my reinforced trap door entirely? One way or another that was gone when I woke up that Saturday, and the party was real, and the maze? But it was there when I woke up for Carre. But it was a dream, it was just a dream, but now I have a flower and a potato and that can't have been a dream, but it has to have been. I had dreams inside that dream, Bad! How do I even know this is real? That I'm talking to you now? That I'm not still trapped in that stupid birdhouse? That the island is even real? That any of you are real? That this isn't some… Isn't some fevered dream as I die of some ancient illness I picked up from the sniffers. What if- What is even real, Bad? Is there even a reality? Do our eggs- I don't- I don't know any more."

It's then that Bad thinks that, maybe, he has worked it out - the illusive thing which Philza wants from him. He thinks of how, as soon as he saw him after the eggs went missing, Philza just stepped up and offered him a hug. How, for a moment, the world was real and for a few seconds Bad felt safe and like his skin was his own. Neither of them have any answers, Bad can't even promise this is real in the end.

But he can open up his arms, so he does.

Philza collapses into them, gripping onto his hoodie as he lets out an ear-splitting shriek. Once, twice, and then it calms slightly into choked off sobs and half-chirped phrases both apologising and doubting and Philza cursing himself.

Some birds scatter, others peer down from the nearby, fudged up trees.

"I'm here," is all Bad can offer to the man in his arms. "You didn't do anything wrong," it tastes like a lie and yet Bad can't tell where the mistake was.

"I'm real, and I've got you."

Nearby one of the blue hummingbirds starts flying away. Bad does not trust it; he leans close and whispers, "where's your closest warp to mine? Let's go there where we can sit down."

Philza gives him the name, and Bad encourages him to warp - promises to follow. He watches for Philza's name disappearing and then reappearing on the map.

And then he grins a little sharp, turning his face out into the woods. "I don't appreciate spies."

Something atarts running; Bad lights a match, and starts a forest fire.

Surrounded by flames, he warps after Philza.

He has muffins at home. Muffins will cheer Philza up a bit, yes? They can have muffins, and coffee, and hug on the couch, and work out who they need to kill.

#qsmp fanfic #qsmp philza #qsmp bbh #what is this? it is what it is #hurt/comfort #I think #Philza's doing his best to cope so hard but its a bit flexible #something something he seemed pretty convinced it was a dream to tubbo but not so much once he was alone...#'would you kill me/yourself/your off island boyfriend if they were threats to our children' as a trust test #bbh and philza are both going through it

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the-modern-typewriter · 2 years

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Ngh, I have to agree with that anon, you're really talented at writing vampires who truly feel dangerous, and not just softies with fang. If you like the idea, do you think you could write something about a Victorian maiden alone in her bedroom, waking up to a vampire scratching at her window, begging her to let him in because he's just so very cold, and he longs for her warm embrace to feel alive again. She doesn't want to at first, because even though he's beautiful, he's also pale with long teeth and nails and a wicked smile. But then she gazes into his eyes, and they draw her in irresistibly. Basically, I'm really curious about how you'd write vampire hypnosis, old school Gothic novel style!

Everyone knew that vampires went for the pretty girls and handsome boys, the lords and ladies of fortune and good breeding with their soft skin like fine-china to serve such lethal meals, tucked away from the world and oblivious to the rules beyond their gilded towers.

So, when the vampire first tapped at her window, she assumed she must be dreaming. She certainly didn't think to scream. Instead, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and stared.

Maybe it was already too late, truly, from the first their eyes met. Even if it was only for a heartbeat. She should have known better. Mostly, though, she simply wanted to know - to bite the forbidden fruit of him, and taste the sweetness of such an otherworldly thing.

He was pale and delicate in the moonlight, like a boy from an old painting. A man. He was not a boy, he was a man, and even as that registered, she felt her heart skitter. He appeared older than her, but not by much.

He was beautiful.

It felt a odd to even think it - beautiful. But, he was. The most beautiful thing she had ever seen, though she could admit that there was scant competition. Beautiful things did not often come calling for her.

So, she stared, and prayed maybe god might forgive her a few moments at looking at something so lovely. Surely he would look, too, with a face like that at his window?

"I'm so cold," he said. "Won't you please let me in?"

The fine points of his teeth shone in the light.

She realised she had stood up from her bed. She realised she had half crossed to the window towards him, her trembling fingers curled around the latch. Her breath fogged up the glass and his did not.

She swallowed. Fear - and something else, something unfamiliar - curled like smoky invitation in the pit of her belly.

"Let me warm myself in your arms," he murmured. "For I am so cold, and you are so lonely. Are you not, miss?"

She yanked her hands back from the latch as if she'd been scalded, taking a few stumbling steps back. And...

He grinned. His voice changed, away from its sorrowful longing, and terribly it suited him more.

"That's how the line goes, isn't it?"

She squared her shoulders, heat flooding her face. "I ask that you leave, sir. You are not welcome here."

"Oh, miss." He wet his lips, and craned a little closer to the glass, as if he could feel the warmth of her even at such a distance and longed for it. "The pounding of your heart protests otherwise."

She had no proper response for that, and so she whirled away from him - it - with great determination, and returned to her bed. She put her back to the window and willed herself not to turn and check again.

He was back the next night, and the following, and soon enough she felt a little dizzy from sleeplessness and stolen glances. When she did manage to fall asleep, her dreams were strange fragmented things, consumed by the wicked smile of a pretty man warming up beneath the forbidden press of her hands. He would kiss her neck, and the swell of her chest, and hold her with such strong arms. And his eyes...they would burn into her, as if he had never once been made to be dead, made to be cold.

Curse the creature! And yet, she could not shake the thoughts of him.

After a week of it, she went over to the window again, with every intention of scolding him for his efforts. Just because he was a thing of the night, did not mean he had to be so improper when she was trying to sleep.

Their eyes met again.

His were very pale, as silvery as the rest of him, like a cat's eyes glinting in the night. They were...they were...

"Won't you undo the window latch?" he asked, and then with another quirk of a smile, as if to mock them both. "I am so very cold."

She didn't remember exactly undoing the latch, but then the window was open and the night air was cool upon her flushed skin. It was awful cold, and she shivered.

He rested his arms upon the sill, preventing her from slamming it shut again, but did not enter yet. He watched her as intently and as transfixed as she observed him.

"Are you ready to ask for what you want, miss?"

What she wanted?

"You intend to kill me. I suppose you imagine that nobody will miss me." She jutted her chin up. "I have told the priest of your visits-"

"-You have not."

She faltered.

"But I can humour you, if you wish to tell what you confessed." He raised his brows, a small smile playing on those lips again. "Perhaps that you have allowed a gentleman caller at your window at all hours? Vampires do not go for the likes of you. You must have done something wrong."

Had she?

"At least," he said, with a careless shrug, "I imagine that is what they will say."

"You are a monster. A damned thing."

"Indeed, but that does not mean they will not be quick to find fault in you for my sins. It comforts them, you see, to believe that they would never do the same."

In an instant, like an unravelling of smoke or another glancing of moonlight, he was inside her home. He smelled like snow. His mouth had more colour than the rest of him, red roses to the lily of him, and she felt her breath catch in her throat.

"Let me get that," he murmured, and closed the window behind him with a soft click. "I would so hate for you to catch a chill."

She backed up a step, though it was far too late for that.

"You have - my mind -"

"Yes." He closed the gap between them, only to cup her face gently, and oh he truly was cold. It made her gasp. Her knees felt weak. He did not let her fall, cradling her in the careful cage of his embrace. "You could not have resisted. It is not you - anyone would be the same."

"Then why me?" It seemed a small, pitiful question. It exposed too much that she was not the girl that people wanted. That she was the one whose mother was gone, and whose father didn't notice anything, and who nobody in the village would much miss.

"Because." He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and then her lips, and brushed her hair back from her shoulders to expose the line of her throat. "You are beautiful." He kissed her neck, her aching pulse. "And when I held your eyes in mine," he whispered in her ear, "I could not resist you."

The next night, he was back again, and the window was open.

"Do you know what you want?" he asked.

And she said, "I know what it is like to be the stranger in this town."

She said, "I know what it is like to always be the one outside, never invited in. I understand it all now, and you..."

She said, "it's dreadful cold, sir. Come in."

#all this talk of vampires and I'm in a mood #next thing won't be vampires haha #vampires #writing #story #creative writing #fiction #sometimes I forget how much I love vampires #i know little of Victorian ettiquette

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fanby-fckry · 2 months

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Like I had a dream of Season 2 last night, and weirdly it seemed exactly like what Season 2 might actually be like in terms of reveals. Like it turned out Alastor was actually a fraud, he didn’t kill all those overlords when he first got to Hell, but rather lied and said he did, and began attaining some power over the years with that rep, never a lot but enough to beat out smaller names, that being why he was so dependent on smaller deals like those he had Rosie keep an eye out for. He wasn’t pacing himself but desperately trying to live up to the myth of the Radio Demon. And it turned out Husk had been more powerful than Alastor when he acquired his soul, and the day he did was just as stressful for Alastor as it was for Husk. Then Vox tried to have him join the Vees, Alastor turned him down since he didn’t want to truth of his power being much lower than thought being found out, they got in a fight, and Alastor was legitimately hurt but managed to hide it and leave before Vox realised, just as he did with Adam. Alastor then encountered the real force responsible for those overlords going missing: Eve, the first woman. Basically in the world of ‘Hazbin’, before Heaven and Hell, there was simply Good and Evil, literal personifications, concepts given awareness. Good was the first to gain mass, becoming God, creating the angels and then Earth, Adam, Lilith, Eve, while Evil was left a simple force, until Lilith formed the apple of free will and gave it to Eve, infecting her with Evil, and so she became its embodiment, God’s counterpart in evil. Who could be seen in the opening storybook in the first episode, Go(o)d a closed eye amongst clouds, Evil a red eye(s) and smile amongst darkness, I checked once I woke up to ensure that shot was real. So basically all descendants of hers, humanity, would have both good and evil within them: the reason Adam was in Heaven was that in spite of being a jerk, he never had Evil as a concept within him. So what neither Alastor or Eve would have known was that because of this, he was among the few that could ever kill her (Evil), and now that Niffty took him out of the picture, the only ones left who could do so are Lilith and Charlie, the only ones of human descent not to be infected with Evil on some level (angels not having the right stuff to make it work). Anyway my dream had it that Alastor and Lilith hadn’t really met, but once Alastor made his deal with Eve, and she got herself a representative, Lilith felt it, and immediately fled to Heaven. And we would find this out since in Season 2, overlords started to go missing again as they once did before, only this time Alastor couldn’t really claim credit. My dream ended before it was clear who had killed them, whether it was Eve trying to find a new rep (the process having dissolved the souls of most whose wills were not powerful enough to escape her, before she had found Alastor, who would have spent the seven years he was gone attempting to escape her mass, regain corporeality to act on Eve’s behalf), or whether it was Lilith trying to figure out which overlord was Eve’s rep and wipe them out, but it did feature Vox be killed later on in the season, and Valentino and Velvette had a beautiful mournful ballad in response to this, like with her being the source of all Evil in this world I could have seen Val apologists in real life saying all he did wasn’t his fault because of her, what her influence did, which wouldn’t be great, but the scene my mind came up with was (great). So anyway Alastor’s purpose would have been to prevent redemption within Hell from being possible, since it would ruin Eve. It seemed surprisingly plausible to canon as we know it: I was thoroughly impressed with my subconscious mind on waking up.

Anon, I am going to dramatically throw myself in between you and Apollo’s dodgeball like I’m taking a bullet.

Your subconscious is incredibly thorough and well-written, but I swear if any of that becomes canon I will cry.

Ok, so some of it seems fine, but my poor Alastor loving heart cannot take it if he turns out to be entirely a fraud.

Don’t get me wrong: The smile is a mask, he’s hiding his weaknesses, he’s hiding his Deal, and he is not infallible by any means. But I can’t see him having faked the whole thing to begin with, and I will be fucking devastated if that was the case.

Now, at the risk of getting this post as a copy-pasta in my inbox:

Yes, I am going to critique your dream.

In regards to Rosie offering up “smaller deals,” I just kinda have to say, they don’t sound very “small” to me?

I got a premo-connect on a guy with about eight blocks of territory and not enough goons to run it. Prime pickin's for a deal to be made, my friend.

I mean, sure, it’s not another Overlord, but eight blocks of territory is still a pretty big achievement. It’s possible the guy has some Souls in his inventory that Alastor could get access to, or that his Soul is worth more (either in terms of power or just for the bragging rights, lol) than your average Sinner’s.

Meanwhile, the Vees appear to be picking up ordinary, less powerful Sinners one at a time through exploitation and/or capitalism.

Of course, Alastor didn’t actually go for the guy Rosie offered up, which makes me think either:

He didn’t think it was worth his time.

He wanted to focus on Extermination 2 Electric Boogalooo.

He thought that discussing it in front of Charlie would damage her view of him.

Something in his own Deal prevents him from getting the most out of it. (People have talked a lot about how despite having a reputation as a Soul-stealing Dealmaker, none of the Deals post 7 year disappearing act have actually resulted in Alastor getting someone’s Soul.)

I think option 1 actually further supports the idea of Alastor’s power. He’s powerful enough that he can be picky about what Deals he chooses to go pursue.

Meanwhile, 2-4 don’t necessarily say anything one way or the other about his power before the 7 year disappearance.

And the one Soul we know for a fact Alastor owns is Husk’s. Who was 100% an Overlord. So it’s not like he hasn’t gotten at least one Overlord, one way or another.

As for the disappearing Overlords, while we don’t have definitive proof that Alastor was the behind it in the form of like video evidence or eye-witness testimony, nobody else came forward to claim the kills.

If it wasn’t Alastor, and Alastor took credit anyway, why is he even still alive? Er, after-alive? Why didn’t the mysterious Overlord killer kill Alastor for taking credit for their kills?

I’d be pissed if that was me. You think you can show up and claim my kills? Nuh uh, you’re next, radio deer.

Alastor is hiding something. And he’s coming apart at the seams trying to keep his secret, trying to maintain an image that does not tell the whole truth. But I don’t think it goes that deep. I think if it did, he would’ve crumbled decades ago.

#fanby answers #anon #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel theory #kinda?#alastor #id in alt text

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dyns33 · 1 year

Text

The Ending

Last Morpheus x Hob!Reader. A bit hard to read, and with spoilers from the comics, careful.

Y/N Y/L/N couldn't die.

Not if she didn't want to.

Lord Morpheus repeated this to himself over and over as he continued to search for her everywhere. He refused to think that his sister might have changed her mind or that his immortal lover might have decided to leave without telling him.

Something else must have happened, and though it might be horrible, Dream told himself that he would find her, that she would be alive, and that he would help her get better, for as long as necessary.

She had told him about her long life, he had seen some of her nightmares. Y/N had experienced a lot of things, she was strong, smart. Everything would end well.

Her disappearance dated back to a few days now. If he hadn't learned to control his rage, Lord Morpheus would have punished Johanna Constantine for causing all this trouble. She had come to seek the help of Y/N and Hob for a dangerous mission, thinking that it would be better to be accompanied by people who could not die.

There are fates worse than death, Dream had once told Robert. You can be injured or captured.

It had happened to him soon after, like a premonition, and now Y/N might be stuck somewhere. Maybe she was being tortured, and if he didn't move fast enough, if she lost hope, then she might call his sister to end her suffering.

But no, she couldn't die, he refused that.

Despite his best efforts, traveling the waking world and dreams, dispatching Matthew and his most loyal subjects, he was unable to find her.

The Hecate didn't give him any help, answering with riddles and mocking him. Lost, he did something he hadn't even thought of doing when he was captured : he called his family. It wasn't as helpful as he would have hoped.

As always, Destiny couldn't do anything, saying whatever was supposed to happen would happen.

Death only reassured him, promising him that Y/N had not contacted her, and that if she did, she would take him with her to save his beloved. She looked strange, but said nothing.

Destruction didn't answer.

The twins were a little surprised by his request, savoring this moment, happy to see him so weak in their domains, desperate and in love.

"We'd be willing to help you just because we pity you and you finally seem to realize you're no better than us..." Desire began.

"... But we can't do anything for you. An ancient magic seems to have taken your lover." continued Despair. "She's too far from us. Sorry."

It was out of sheer politeness, knowing how susceptible she could be, that Dream went to Delirium. Poor Delirium, his youngest sister would probably not achieve more than the others had already done.

She jumped up when she saw him, saying that she had missed him, before saying a lot of nonsense, but listening all the same to the reason for his coming. Delirium looked serious for a moment, thinking hard, before jumping up again.

"I dON't KnOw wheRe Y/N Is. BUt I knOw whO I CAn Ask !"

"Come find me if your friend brings news." sighed Morpheus who wasn't really listening.

"He'S nOt MY fRIenD, BUt OkAY !"

A few hours later, someone showed up at the gate of the realm, and Matthew flew as quickly as possible to his master to tell him that Y/N had returned.

In an instant, Dream appeared beside her, hugging her, asking her if she was hurt, wiping the tears from her cheeks, touching her bloody hands.

"... I'm fine." she whispered without looking at him.

"Obviously not. If those who hurt you are not dead yet, I will find them and lock them in an eternal nightmare."

"Forget it, Morpheus. I don't want to talk about it."

"I cannot leave unpunished those who have dared..."

"Nobody hurt me." Y/N said more firmly, but still avoiding his gaze. "It's not my blood. I lost myself, in limbos. It was impossible to find my way, I was alone, and I was afraid of arriving in hell, or of dying without doing it on purpose. Then he... I do not want to talk about it."

"He ? Who is he ?"

Y/N initially refused to answer, continuing to cry, before falling to her knees and beginning to ask his forgiveness, as if she had committed a crime. The pleas came next, her love saying that she would understand that he hated her, that he never wanted to see her again, but that she had no choice. She was shaking, as if she was afraid of him.

"He asked me... He was so tired, so kind. His voice... His voice..." she sobbed, taking Morpheus's hands. "He had such a beautiful voice."

Then Dream understood. And after having focused his attention only on Y/N, he contemplated the universe and whispered the name of his son who was no longer there. That was what his sister had hidden from him. What his brother had meant.

Y/N was alive, and Orpheus was dead.

Delirium had had the idea of going to ask her nephew for help. She had never thought of it before, but he was a oracle, so he knew everything, and he didn't have to keep quiet like their big brother. She wanted to ask him where her dear other brother Destruction was, but Orpheus had smiled, saying that his uncle didn't want to be found, that there was more important matters to deal with at the moment, and that he wouldn't be here afterwards.

Using his link with the Limbos where he had lost Eurycype, he had found Y/N and he had guided her to the exit. He had, however, asked her for a favor.

"He said he wanted to join his wife. He couldn't stay like that anymore. He was already dead, or almost. He was staying for his mother, and you, even if he was convinced that you didn't love him anymore and that you would never come back to see him. He would have wanted to see you, and at the same time, he was afraid. Afraid that you would reject him, or that you would accept his request. He knew the rules, he knew what he would happen to you if you released him, so... He asked me. I didn't want to do it. I said there had to be a solution. I didn't want you to hate me."

"My love..."

"He said it would be fine. That you would understand. He sang to calm me down. A lullaby you made for him. It was beautiful. Oh, Morpheus, it was beautiful. Forgive me."

Unable to speak, he took her in his arms. His son was right, he didn't hate Y/N. He would never hate her, he was glad she was back, that she wasn't hurt. Yes, Orpheus was long dead, though none of them wanted to accept it.

"My love..." he whispered again, continuing to rock her, trying to calm her crying, as he had done with this little baby that Calliope had given him. "There is nothing to forgive. You granted his wish, you did nothing wrong. You gave my child peace, something I could never have done. I wanted him to live, I was not here for him. At least he's with his wife now. He's happy."

Y/N continued to cry and apologize for several hours, hugging him and letting him kiss her until she was too exhausted to move.

It was not necessary to warn anyone. Once his partner was calmer, although still feeling guilty despite all his reassuring words, the family came.

Morpheus was afraid that they would be violent towards Y/N, that they would insult her, curse her, try to kill her.

The meeting was very strange.

Destiny didn't speak much, only repeating that what had to happen had happened. He quickly added that the other option would have been difficult, for everyone. Death hugged his brother, then Y/N, without saying anything, because it was not necessary. Destruction did not come.

The three youngest were the most surprising. Very serious, very solemn. Despair offered her condolences. Delirium apologized if she had made a mistake. Desire remained in a corner. It wasn't time for teasing, but none of them were mad at Y/N. Their nephew had been on the borders of their domains for too long, it was good that he was free.

Calliope arrived last, calm and serene, but with tears streaming down her cheeks. By stupid reflex, Morpheus stood in front of Y/N, but the muse smiled sadly at him, before passing and taking his companion's hand.

"Thank you." she said. "Thank you for helping my son."

Not considering that she had helped him, Y/N just nodded trying not to cry again. She couldn't, and Morpheus took her back to their room as soon as everyone had left.

Of course, there remained the dreams and nightmares, curious and worried, who wanted to check that everything was alright for their creator, but also for his lover. They all adored Y/N, they didn't like to see her so sad, but above all, they wondered if their master might not blame her for what had happened.

"I do not understand what you mean."

"Well... She... She killed your son, boss." muttered the raven as if he had just said an insult. "Yeah, he asked her, and she's sorry, and I understand, but… You might be upset, and angry."

"I am not."

"Not even a little ?"

"I'm not saying that the loss of my son doesn't cause me any pain. But Y/N is safe and sound thanks to him, and I've only felt joy since her return." he said, stroking the hair of the immortal, who was starting to wake up. "Excuse me, Matthew, but I don't want to leave her alone during this moment. I'll join her in the Waking World, tell Lucienne to watch over the realm while I'm gone."

"Yes, boss. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. If anyone is responsible, it's me. I had minimized my son's suffering. If Y/N had died today... Maybe I would have gone to hell for her. My sister would have laughed at me, saying that I was selfish. I could have helped him, I didn't. My brother is right, things happened as they were supposed to , and now I have to follow my own advice. Accept that he's gone, and savor every moment with Y/N, my Y/N, that he brought back to me."

The raven refrained from answering. He wasn't really satisfied, but he couldn't do anything. It wasn't a nice ending, like in the fairy tales, but it wasn't a bad ending either. Life like stories, their master well knew, did not always have happy endings. They had endings. And if in his Y/N was at his side, that was enough.

#Sandman #dream of the endless #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless imagine #dream of the endless fanfiction #morpheus #morpheus x reader #morpheus fanfiction #morpheus imagine

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ohblackdiamond · 3 months

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liner notes/unused joke summaries for kiss fics (part vii)

Despite what my general dislike of the shift key and my tendency to mock all that I love might imply, I actually overthink everything I write to a great extent. I make no claims to these explanations being in any way enjoyable, but if you wanted to know what I was thinking while writing KISS fic… now you do. Part one can be found here. Part two is here. Part three is here. Part four is here. Part five is here.

shock them, show them --Ace and Paul have smoking hot lesbian sex just like in a drive-in movie theater porno. Well. Except for the part where Ace makes Paul sing "Shock Me" acapella, post-coital.

>>Ace/Paul is one of my not-so-guilty pleasures and they just have a fun dynamic. It had been a long time since I'd written the pairing, and I really enjoyed Ace's lack of pretense and impatience with Paul's stress and tendency to overanalyze. I also enjoyed small bits, like the fact that even though Paul tells him they'll go again if he (Paul) gets eaten out first, Ace doesn't ever eat him out, and that Paul initially refuses the thought of scissoring only to get really into it not too long after.

Other things I liked: Paul feeling more masculine/more himself around Ace (after all that time with Gene), and managing to seduce him a bit. Title is, of course, another lyric from the Stones' "Little T&A."

little rock 'n' roll --Paul spends five days doing almost nothing in the wake of getting turned into a girl by a vengeful groupie by way of a demon. Besides try to masturbate.

>>I had written this out in part a long, long time ago mostly as a writing exercise for myself while writing "little t&a," but as it kept expanding, I decided someone might find it interesting enough to actually post. I wanted the freedom to explore some really weird things-- I don't think Marbas had anything to do with the dreams Paul was having, but that's up to interpretation. I wanted to work with Paul's poorly-established sense of self and his own issues with sexuality/gender, which was mostly accomplished through the dream sequences where he was, in effect, reinterpreting parts of his life with a female lens, and (poorly) addressing things he had latent issues with (his own bisexuality and femininity). Also, I just found the body horror aspect interesting to explore and the difference Paul experienced in how other people were treating him, especially when he was alone.

catch my drift --Gene manages to bed one of the hottest women of the eighties after nerding out about Lon Chaney movies.

>>I really wrote this in an attempt to fully get at what it's like to be around Gene Simmons as a woman and get a sense of his presence/confidence as he's really... the guy is something else, all the rumors are true, etc. etc. etc. He has ridiculous eye contact, he pays ridiculous amounts of attention to everything you say, and he acts extremely invested in what you have to say. Yes, it's because he wants money/sex/etc. out of you, but boy, the times I have seen and the time I have met him, I have fully understood exactly how he got so many women. I don't think I fully encapsulated it in the story, but I tried!

I hesitated to finish and post it, too, because Vanity in real life was extremely troubled and, in the early nineties, changed her life very dramatically and became a preacher, so I worried that writing about her during this point in her life would come off as if I was disrespecting her and ignoring her later choices to focus on a period she wasn't proud of. I thought about it and then decided that if her story was one she was willing to share in her autobiography and in public (in some amount of detail), then, well, I was probably okay to go ahead with it. Vanity's eighties lifestyle was not sustainable on any front and she battled addiction, eventually getting clean in the nineties after some serious health consequences. I'm proud of her for that.

c'mon, get your feet wet --Ace lets Peter hit it from the back, until he decides he'd rather him hit it from the front. Then he meets Marbas, who doesn't bother trying to convince him he'd be better off with tiny boobs.

>>I find Ace really funny even in the face of situations that are terrible. You get the impression in interviews and even in behind the scenes stuff that a part of him is always dryly laughing at how everything has turned out and that he's basically along for the ride even in his own life, for better or for worse. Ace's rockstar insulation isn't that thick, really, and he's at least somewhat self-aware.

That being said, his dynamic with Peter meant that he couldn't manage to goof around and act like things weren't bothering him, which meant he kept trying to turn to drugs and alcohol instead. He's only aware he has a problem that can't be laughed off in the context of where he would be without the creature comforts of being a rock star. An alcoholic drug addict twenty-something girl with no money or family will end up in an objectively worse position financially and physically than an alcoholic drug addict twenty-something multimillionaire (or at least millionaire at that point) rockstar guy. Marbas points out he's set to lose everything anyway, but of course once he's gone, Ace can push all that aside again.

Ace isn't focused on trying to be a girl (for whatever that means) or what that means or anything along those lines. He doesn't have Paul's relatively weak sense of self and nothing about staying like he is is enticing for him. Ace doesn't care about that and all he cares about are the limitations of his current position and the ramifications.

I had a hard time with this piece for a very long time because I didn't feel like I was making it hot enough at all, and when I just gave up on that aspect, the fic managed to come together in an evening (after being on the backburner for months and months). The shower scene was hard up until that point-- once I embraced that Ace would never not be falling over in the shower, it was fine. Peter doesn't really have a whole lot to do beyond treat Ace right, but I wanted him to still feel like Peter.

#kiss the band #kiss fanfiction #liner notes

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complicatedchelsea · 1 year

Text

Fallen Through Time For You

Chapter Five: Conspiracies for Breakfast

Masterlist:

(gif not mine)

(Sydney's POV)

The sound of a crash and loud laughter jolted me awake the next morning. The sun was coming in through the window and the blankets on the ground were empty. I couldn’t tell what time it was, but it seemed Max and El left me to sleep while they joined the others. My bladder made the choice for me about leaving the room or waiting till someone came to find me.

I opened the door quietly, but no one was waiting outside for me. Taking a quick glance down the hallway, I assumed that most of the noise was coming from the kitchen. No one was in the bathroom when I entered, so I took a minute to gather my wits. I washed my face and stared at my reflection in the mirror. I was still here in the Byers house, which meant I was still here in the 1980’s. All this meant that this wasn’t some weird dream, I actually woke up here and the mark on my wrist was real.

I glanced down at the silver mark. It still stuck out as much as it did yesterday. I traced it slowly, it still felt like a part of me. So it was real, I reassured myself. Eddie was my soulmate. I fell through time to show up at the feet of my soulmate. What the hell even is this world?

I left the bathroom before I could fall into a deeper rabbit hole. Being around Eddie, he helped silence most of these thoughts by just being around me. It was like he took up all of my attention, and I didn’t have time to think these overwhelming thoughts. The closer I got to the kitchen, the louder the talking got. I practically ran into Will as I rounded the corner.

“Shit!” I said as I laid a hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to run into you.”

Will smiled. “It’s okay, it can get pretty chaotic when we are all together. Did we wake you?”

I shook my head. “Of course not. It was about time I got my lazy self out of bed.”

“Did you want some breakfast?” Will asked as he scratched the back of his neck. “Mom’s making pancakes.”

“Has everyone already eaten?” I asked. I really didn’t want Joyce to feel like she had to make me something if everyone was already done. I could wait.

“I was actually waiting for you,” Will said with a small smile. “Eddie mentioned that you don’t want anyone to go out of their way for you. I can be the same way at times. So I offered to be your breakfast buddy if he wasn’t here.”

I blinked at him, surprised that Will was so willing to wait for me. “Eddie isn’t here yet?”

“Another thing you might have in common,” Will started as he grabbed my arm and led towards where Joyce was at the stove. “Eddie can sleep like the dead and not wake up for anything. That’s the only reason why he isn’t here yet.”

“Huh,” I said. “He was here pretty late last night waiting for Wayne. He seems like the type to either run on no hours of sleep and just crash when he’s exhausted.”

Will laughed. “You have no idea how much these past few months we’ve seen him just crash and sleep through a whole hour of Dustin arguing with Steve.”

Joyce turned to look at me from the stove, a plate of pancakes in hand. “Morning!”

“Morning,” I returned with a smile. “I didn’t mean to sleep so late.”

She waved a spatula at me. “Nonsense, you needed it. I was just hoping the kids didn’t wake you from being so loud.”

I waved a hand. “I’ve slept through worse.”

Will picked up a plate and handed me one before taking one for himself. “Would you like some orange juice?”

“Sure,” I said as Will darted towards the fridge. Joyce motioned for me to reach out my plate as she placed a few pancakes and some bacon on it.

“Do you want me to make you anything else?” She asked as she shoved a fork in my hand as well. “I don’t mind, all the boys are really picky so it’s no issue. We’ve got syrup on the table, there is some jelly in the fridge, or-”

“Joyce,” I said with a small laugh. “I’m okay, really. This is way more than I usually eat in the morning. Thank you.”

“You don’t eat in the morning?” She asked me as she started loading up another plate as Will reappeared with two glasses.

“Not exactly,” I said as I sent him a smile and took one of the glasses from his hand. “It’s a bloodsugar thing? If I eat too early it makes me nauseous; so normally I just keep something with me in case I get lightheaded.”

Joyce didn’t like that answer, I could see the way her eyebrows pinched together and her lips drew into a line. “What about your mom? Did she not try to keep food in the house that wouldn’t make you sick?”

I shrugged my shoulders, not liking the idea of Joyce being mad at me.

“Sweetie,” Joyce started as I heard her put down the spatula and grab one of my hands that was holding the plate. “You give me a list of some of these safe foods and I promise that I will keep them here for when you need them.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” I stammered out. Some of that stuff was hard to keep on the shelves in my time, god forbid I make life harder for anyone else here. “Really, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not,” Joyce said as she turned back around. “What kind of parent doesn’t make sure their kid eats?”

I didn’t answer her question and Will just nudged me in the direction of a dining table in the connecting room. Steve, Hopper, and Robin were already seated at the table with full plates. Hopper was sitting at the head of the table, Robin and Steve sitting across from each other on separate sides of the table. Steve smiled and motioned to the seat next to him.

“Just so you know, Mom wasn’t mad at you.” Will said as set his plate down next to Robin. “She’s very protective of all her kids. Ask anyone.”

Will didn’t mention it again as I sat next to Steve, pushing the food around on my plate. Robin was telling some story about a rude customer, her arms gesturing wildly. Behind her I could see the rest of the party sitting around the living, cartoon’s seeming to be playing on the TV. I managed to eat a few bites of the pancakes before I could feel the heaviness in my stomach and decided that maybe waiting a bit could help me finish the plate.

“So did you end up getting any sleep last night?” Steve asked and it took me a second to realize he was looking in my direction. “You know, after your little adventure outside?”

He said it with a teasing smile and I just rolled my eyes before lightly hitting his elbow with mine. “I did, actually. I just knew that I had a protector in the next room and that gave me the power to relax.”

“Okay, smartass.” Steve said with a chuckle. “How are you feeling this morning? Still freaked out?”

Hopper interrupted me before I could answer Steve. “You went somewhere last night?”

“No,” I said, scared. Hopper was sending me this look like he caught me selling drugs to a minor. “Of course not. I couldn’t sleep so I ended up on the swing out front for a bit. I just needed a few minutes alone to think about some stuff.”

“Is that what you are calling Eddie now?” Robin snorted as she shoved another bite into her mouth. “‘Your alone time’?”

“Robin” I hissed as I felt my face go red. I rubbed at my face, hiding from the other gazes at the table and let out a groan.

“So that’s why he’s not here now,” Will said and I could hear the humor in his voice. “You kept him up late?”

I lifted my head to send a glare towards Will and he just laughed. “Eddie was already out there when I got out there. I had some questions, and he answered them.”

Steve let out another laugh. “We’re just ragging you, Sydney. Eddie’s like a freakin’ vampire. Guy barely sleeps at night.”

I sent a look towards Hopper and he was just sitting back and watching me, lighting up a cigarette. It seemed to be a battle of wills as I didn’t want to look away, but he folded with a sign and rubbed at his beard. “Do you want to know what I found out at the station?”

I sat up in the chair. “You found something?”

Before Hopper could answer me, there was an obnoxious knock at the door. Will rolled his eyes and stood up to answer it, and I could hear Eddie’s chain’s as he entered the house.

“Morning!” He said cheerfully. I watched him greet his way through the living room before he followed Will back toward the table. When he spotted me, Eddie sent me a wide smile and I couldn’t help to send him one back. He surveyed the table before grabbing a chair from the small table in the kitchen and planting himself down beside me at the end of the table.

“Morning, sweetheart.” Eddie greeted me as he leaned forward to give the hand closest to him a squeeze. “Sleep well?”

I nodded. “Feeling better now that you’re here.”

“Is that so?” Eddie sent me a smirk and leaned back. “I have to say I feel the same.”

The sound of a throat cleaning at the other end of table drew my attention back to Hopper. “Are you two going to keep this up or do you want to hear what I found?”

Eddie leaned out of my space a bit. “Floor is yours, Chief.”

Hopper let out another grunt before taking another drag on putting out the cigarette. “So you want the good news or the bad news first?”

“Bad news,” I said as I let my eyes flick to the rest of the group at the table. “Always bad news.”

Hopper let out a sarcastic chuckle. “So bad new’s is I couldn’t find anything about you. You are not listed in any missing person’s boards, no criminal record, or birth records. Sydney Thompson does not exist.”

“Not yet,” Eddie pointed out.

Hopper nodded. “That is still a possibility. But I was hoping that her name would at least pop up in the system. It would’ve made this whole thing easier.”

“When has anything been easy for us?” Joyce said as she made her way towards the table, coffee mug in hand. When she saw Eddie, she frowned. “Eddie, I’m sorry but I’ve already cleaned up the kitchen. Did you want me to make you something for breakfast?”

“Don’t worry about it Ms.Byers” Eddie said with a smile. “I should have been here earlier. I’ll be okay.”

“No,” I said as I nudged my plate in his direction and held out my fork. “I’m not going to be able to finish. Share with me?”

“Didn’t we already argue about this?” Eddie laughed as he took the fork from me. “You need to eat.”

“I did eat some,” I pointed out. “Who says I’m finished?”

I didn’t let him argue back as I turned back to Hopper. Joyce had moved to stand by his side, slightly leaning into him with a smile on her face as she tried to hide it behind her cup. “What’s the good news?”

Hopper leaned forward so his arms rested on the table. “Good news is that your parent’s do exist. I was able to find their names in the system. Your father is living somewhere up north and your mother is living in North Carolina.”

I frowned. “Are you sure that’s right? By this time my father was already living in North Carolina. He should be sixteen.”

Hopper nodded. “His criminal record showed his last known address as a small town in Maryland.”

“Criminal record? My father doesn’t have a criminal record. Unless…” I trailed off. Unless he did get trouble up there and that caused them to never move down here, which means he wouldn’t meet my mother in this universe. Meaning I wouldn’t exist.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie said as he shoved the glass of orange juice in my hands. “You are looking a little pale, drink something.”

I took a few drinks before handing the glass back to him. I watched as he drank after me before setting the glass on the table. He picked up a piece of pancake with the fork and offered it to me. I took the fork from him, taking another bite before turning back to Hopper. I felt a little nauseous, but I didn’t think it was from eating too early.

“He’s never going to meet my mother,” I said to Hopper. “By this age he was bothering her in homeroom while she kept turning him down and then sixteen years later I came about. So that means I won’t exist in this universe.”

“Are you sure?” Steve spoke for the first time since Hopper started. “Maybe you have the date wrong?”

I shook my head. “No. They were already living in North Carolina by the time he was thirteen. This means that they won’t meet.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Robin asked. “That there won’t be two Sydney’s running around in twenty years?”

Hopper rubbed his chin. “I don’t know. I also don’t know which alternative would have helped us here. I was going to do some more digging because we can’t be too sure that you are Sydney Thompson.”

I stilled from where I was pushing the breakfast plate back towards Eddie. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Hopper started as he looked up at Joyce. “Just like with your memories, can we even be sure that you are Sydney Thompson?”

“But what about the marks?” Eddie asked, confused. “You saw how she reacted to the mark!”

Hopper held a hand out. “But we also know that the mark is the name that your soulmate goes by. Why don’t you think ‘Edward Munson’ isn’t on her wrist instead of Eddie? Just because she goes by Sydney Thompson doesn't mean that she is.”

It almost felt like my head was spinning. This was a lot. The concept of my memories not being real, my name not being real. I could feel the panic creeping up into my chest, my palms beginning to sweat with the idea that I literally have nothing to me. Not even my name.

“Sweetheart. Hey, Sydney” Eddie’s voice was soft as I felt his hands cup my face and tilt it towards him. “Look at me, baby.”

I met his dark brown eyes. He seemed so calm, so level headed during all this. Why wasn’t he freaking out? Wasn't his world tilting just as mine? He scooted closer, taking over my complete line of vision. I felt his thumbs slowly caress my cheeks as he took an exaggerated deep breath. I tried to follow suit, closing my eyes to try and calm down.

“Hey,” Eddie said again and I opened my eyes again to look back at him. Trying to stay tethered to something and not go into a full blown panic attack. I think Eddie could read it clearly on my face. “You are Sydney Thompson. That is your name on my wrist and that is my name on yours. We know that is the truth.”

“But-” I started before he interrupted me.

Eddie’s voice got lower, his tone a bit sharper. “You. Are. Sydney Thompson. There is no question. You wouldn’t have shown up here if it wasn’t. I’ve been trying really hard not to freak you out about this stuff, but I’m laying claim here. You are my soulmate and I am yours. That’s what brought you here. You, Sydney Thompson, belong here with me. That is not going to change. What I’ve been feeling for the past twenty-four hours? You can’t make that shit up.”

I took another deep breath before reaching up and placing my hands on his. Grounding. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Eddie reaffirmed as he ducked his head to be in line with mine.

I nodded and Eddie dropped his hands from my face, but he didn’t let go of my hands. I let his words anchor me back down. I was who I said I was. I wouldn’t be in this room with these people if I didn’t belong here. I wouldn’t feel what I feel about Eddie if I didn’t belong with him here. I might not be from where I think I am, but I’m here now and that’s what matters.

My eyes searched his and what I was even looking for, I didn’t know. But his eyes were so sincere, so genuine that I had to believe him. Since I fell into his life, Eddie has been nothing but honest with me. If I could completely trust anyone here, it would be him.

I realized I had an audience and felt myself flush as I tore my eyes from Eddie and looked around the table. No one seemed angry, all watching me with careful eyes.

“Jim,” Joyce hissed. “You need to apologize. You just can’t go around saying stuff like that! Especially at times like this!”

“You belong here with us,” Steve said as he directed my attention back towards him. “Don’t doubt that for a second. You’re stuck with us now.”

I saw Robin nod enthusiastically. “It’s official, you are part of the ‘Bullying Harrington Club’, you can’t leave now.”

Steve let out a low whine and Will just chuckled across from me.

“Sydney,” Hopper drew my attention back towards him. “You want to speak about this privately?”

I nodded and with a quick glance towards Joyce, I pushed my chair back to follow Hopper into the kitchen. Eddie wouldn’t let me release his hand, instead pushing his chair back and following me. I raised an eyebrow but didn’t complain and let him follow me.

Hopper eyed Eddie. “Privacy?”

“Sorry Chief,” Eddie said with a grin that didn’t give off the vibe of amusement. The hand that was holding mine let go and moved to wrap around my shoulder and I just melted into his side, seeking for the comfort he gave me last night. “Packaged deal now. Can’t go one without the other.”

Hopper shook his head and looked up at the ceiling for a moment before making eye contact with me. “That was insensitive. I’m sorry.”

I shook my head. “It’s okay, I know why you said it. I didn’t mean to cause a scene.”

“Sydney,” Eddie said. “You are allowed to be upset about this. This was a lot to bring up at breakfast.”

“No,” I said as I looked up with Eddie. “He was just being honest, and he does have a point.”

Eddie let out a frustrated noise and just shook his head.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said to Hopper. I meant it. Sure I didn’t like what he had to say, but he was just being honest. After being thrown through time, it’s not crazy to think that I might not be who I thought I was. I don’t know how much more that I could take of these revealments, but it was good that we laid everything on the table.

Hopper nodded. “I’m going back to the station today. You know if you need anything you can reach me there?”

I nodded. “Is there anything I can do today?”

“Stay out of trouble,” Hopper said. He eyed Eddie with amusement. “But with Munson here, that might take a lot of effort.”

Eddie rolled his eyes with a laugh. “Scout’s honor that I will be on my best behavior. Thought about taking her on a tour of Hawkins. Can’t leave her cooped up in this house.”

Hopper rubbed his chin. “It’s a small town and frankly most of the population here like to gossip. What are you going to say if someone asks about you?”

I shrugged. “What do you think is best?”

“Maybe that you are his niece?” Joyce added as she entered the kitchen and headed straight for the coffeemaker. “Jim is a bit of a touchy topic around here, no one will push for information if they hear that.”

“Coming back from the dead with a government cover story will do that for you,” Hopper said. “You comfortable going with that? Being my niece?”

I shrugged. “Sure, if you think it’s best. I guess there are worst people to be related to.”

Hopper laughed. “Okay, kiddo. Remember if you need anything-”

“Call the station,” I finished with a smile. “Got it, Uncle Hop.”

Hopper just shook his head and muttered about gray hair before making his way towards the door. Joyce followed after him, and I could hear the sounds of everyone greeting Hopper before he left. Then it was just us two in the kitchen.

“Why do you do that?” Eddie asked as he took a step back and leaned against the counter behind him. He reached out to grab my hand again, seeming to not like being apart from me. I couldn’t blame him, I liked it better when I was touching him too.

“What do you mean?”

“You had every right to be upset with Hopper!” Eddie said as he tugged his free hand through his hair. For the first time this morning, I took the time to take in what he was wearing. Still in the ripped black jeans with the chains, and this time a worn Metallic t-shirt under the denim vest he was wearing yesterday. He looked as good as he did yesterday.

“I was upset with Hopper,” I admitted as I took another step towards him, having the urge to be in his space. “But he’s not wrong. We’ve got to look at this from every angle.”

I could see the fight leave Eddie’s body as he slumped backwards. “Just because you are mad at him doesn’t mean that he’s going to kick you out or anything.” Eddie looked me in the eye. “You know that right? You don’t have to be worried about your reactions getting you in trouble here.”

I floundered. Was I that easy to read? Was I walking around like a kicked puppy?

“But-”

Eddie interrupted me. “Promise me that if you are ever mad at me, you’ll tell me. You have every right to be emotional here.”

I nodded, it was the least I could do. It didn’t seem like I could get mad at Eddie anyway. He made everything too easy. “Promise”

Eddie nodded and smiled wide. “So now that the heaviness is out of the way, you ready to explore Hakwins with me?”

“Us,” Steve corrected as he entered the kitchen with some dirty plates. “You know everyone is going to want to come.”

Eddie groaned dramatically and titled his head back. “So now I have to share my soulmate? How fair is this?”

I laughed and gently patted his check. “Better get used to it. Seems like I’m more popular than you,” I teased.

Eddie gasped. “For some of those kids in there, I’m their DM. I think you are greatly underestimating me.”

I heard Steve laugh as he put the plates in the sink. “Don’t even get him started on the debate about Dustin.”

Eddie pushed off the counter and dragged me with him as we left Steve to the kitchen. Before I could start towards the living room, his hand tugged me to a stop. He scratched at the back of his neck before he looked down, his leg bouncing nervously.

“Did Ms.Byers give you something to wear today?” Eddie asked me and then glanced down. “Or are you wanting to spend the day in your pj’s?”

“Ha ha,” I rolled my eyes. “No, I didn’t ask this morning.”

“Well I brought you some of my clothes,” Eddie said towards the ground before he looked up and met my gaze. “If that’s okay with you? I understand if you’d want to wear someone el-”

“Eddie,” I interrupted and gave the hand still holding mine a tight squeeze. “That is fine with me. What did you bring me?”

Eddie smiled widely. “You want to wear my clothes?”

“As long as you didn’t get me something hideous,” I teased with a laugh. “What did you bring me?”

“It’s out in the van,” Eddie said. He leaned forward to kiss my forehead, taking me by surprise. I felt myself flush when he stepped back and dropped my hand. “I’ll go grab it so you can change.”

With that he turned and rushed back towards the front door. I stood there for a second before I shook my head and ventured into the living room. Dustin clocked me first.

“Sydney!” He said as he got to his feet. “Steve said that Eddie’s going to show you around Hawkin’s today. Can we come?”

“Eddie wants to show me around Hawkin’s?” I asked him. It was just so easy to mess with Dustin, I couldn’t help it.

Dustin’s face fell and as he stumbled over his words to explain himself, I let out a loud laugh and leaned to squeeze his shoulder. “I’m just fucking with you kid. Of course you can come, I don’t think I could hide from you guys.”

I heard some snickers from the others and Dustin lazily pushed at me before walking towards the kitchen muttering about “telling Steve that he’s getting picked on”.

“Can you rebraid my hair?” Max asked from the couch. Her braids were a little loose, some of the hair falling out of the side that El had done.

“Of course,” I moved towards her. She dropped to the floor and let me take a seat on the couch. “Do you want one or two?”

When Eddie came back in, I was already done with Max’s hair. Just as I was tying off her braid, he popped up in the doorway and jerked his head towards the hallway. When I joined him, he had a pile of folded clothes and a plastic bag.

“So Nancy caught me outside,” Eddie said as he guided me back towards the bathroom. “She figured you might need some of these and said that they should be the right size.”

Eddie thrusted the bag at me, his face pink. Curiosity won over and I peered into the bag to see a handful of bras and some packaged underwear.

“Eddie,” I said teasingly. “Did you not want to look at my underwear?”

A startled noise came from him and he met my eyes. “Of course I want to see your underwear! Wait-no! I mean, no I didn’t look in the bag because I didn’t know what exactly she gave y-”

“Hey,” I interrupted him with a wide smile. “Eddie, I’m just messing with you.”

“Oh,” He said and leaned his back towards the ceiling with a groan. “Don’t do that to me, jeez.”

I reached into the bag and checked the sizing, Nancy had got it right. “How did she get the size correct?”

Eddie shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. Don’t you girls have a radar for that stuff or something?”

I shrugged back. “How the hell am I supposed to know?”

Eddie shook his head and reached out with the folded clothes. “I didn’t think you’d want to wear my jeans, but I did bring you a shirt and one of my flannels because I’ve noticed you stay a bit cold. If you don’t like it, we can always find something else.”

I took the clothes and hugged them to my chest. “I’m sure these will work fine. You going to wait out here for me?”

Eddie just took a step back and leaned against the opposite wall. “I’ll be right out here.”

I just shook my head and closed the door behind me. I laid his clothes on the closed toilet lid and saw that at some point Joyce must have place my clothes on a shelf near the door. I cleaned up quickly with the toothbrush from the night before and used some of Nancy’s face wash again. Swapping the pj pants out for my leggings from the day before, I took a moment to see what Eddie had actually brought me. The flannel felt very soft and smelled very nice, but I could still make out that underlying scent that just screamed Eddie. The other shirt he brought was a three-quarter sleeved shirt. The sleeves were black, chest area white, and had some design on the front. There was a red-faced demon right in the middle, “Hellfire Club” printed right about it. The shirt was soft as well, and after making sure the bra I took out wouldn’t show from under the shirt, I tugged both on.

When I looked in the mirror, I was met with the sight of just how possessive the shirts look. Not that it was a bad thing, but you could definitely tell these weren’t my clothes and they belonged to a very particular group. I couldn’t fight the smile that crossed my face. I know that if I went back out there and asked for a different change of clothes, Eddie would get it for me, hands down. But these clothes gave me a sense of security. The fact that Eddie tripped over himself to hand them to me, maybe a tiny part to show off himself but also to make sure I was comfortable.

I tugged my hair out of its braid, letting the soft waves fall down my back. I checked myself in the mirror once again, making sure that I hadn’t changed places once again. Before I could let myself get lost in those trains of thoughts, I opened the door finding Eddie still standing across from the door. This time now, Dustin had joined him.

“What do you mean I can’t ride with you?” Dustin said. “You always let me ride in the van!”

“Dustin,” Eddie said as he placed a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe next time? I want Sydney to be comfortable today. If you guys keep throwing these questions at her, she’s not going to want to be around anyone.”

Dustin nodded and when he turned, he zeroed in on me. “Holy shit, you gave her your Hellfire shirt?”

Eddie’s gaze snapped to me, a delighted smile crossing his face. “Well, look what we have here.”

He took two large steps towards me, tugging on the material of the flannel. “Don’t you look good, sweetheart.”

I felt my face flush. “The clothes work fine Eddie. Thank you.”

“Sydney,” Eddie said as he reached out to tug at a strand of my hair. “You can have my whole closet if you are going to look this good in my clothes.”

I bit my lip to try and hold back the smile that was threatening to take up my face.

A cough brought me back, Dustin coming up behind Eddie. “Can you two not do this for two seconds?”

My face got hotter as I took a step back from Eddie. Only Eddie didn’t seem to like that, and moved forward to take my hand and angle his body towards Dustin. “This is what you are going to have to put up with if you ride in the van. You still trying to beg for a spot?”

Eddie pushed past him without an answer, dragging me with him by our interlocked hands. I let out a surprised laugh and let him lead me back towards the others. It seemed that most of everyone was packed up, trying to divide into who would go in which car. Steve was standing dead center in the living room, hands on his hips as Max waved her hands at him for something I couldn’t hear.

“Do they always do this?” I asked Eddie as I leaned closer to him. God forbid Max actually hear me and start on me like she was with Steve.

Eddie chuckled. “Always. Red knows exactly what buttons to push and usually guilt trips Steve when she wants something.”

“And Steve folds like a wet paper towel,” Robin said as she rounded the corner. She snickered, “Steve can’t say no to any of his kids.”

Steve then threw his hands up, shaking his head and then gesturing to the door. “Fine! But Nancy and Jonthan are going to pick you two up, I’m not driving back out there.”

Even though I couldn’t see her face, I could just feel the smirk that Max was sporting from here. “Thanks, mom.”

Steve groaned and Max grabbed El’s hand and started towards the door. Robin let out another snicker before grabbing her boots near the door. “Are you two going to come to Steve’s while we wait for the rest to get ready?”

Before I could answer, Steve made his way to us and swatted at Dustin’s hat. “Please make sure that Max and El don’t try anything with the beemer. I’ll give you a lift home.”

Once Dustin was out the door, Steve turned back towards us. “I have to drop Max and El off at the cabin and then drop Dustin off at his house. Do you want to come back to mine with Robin? Nancy and Jonthan are going to take care of dropping the rest off and taking them to the arcade.”

“Is that where the tour starts?” I asked. “You guys actually have a functioning arcade?”

Steve nodded and I looked up to Eddie. I really didn’t care where we went today. As long as I was with Eddie, I could go anywhere.

“Do you not have any arcades?” Eddie asked.

“More rare now.” I said as I looked back at Steve. “I haven’t been to one in ages. I’d love to start there.”

Steve clapped his hands together. “Then it’s settled. Robin and Eddie know where I live. Let me drop off the other’s and I’ll meet you there?”

Eddie nodded and gestured towards the door. “You okay with Robin coming with us?”

Robin snorted. “Excuse me, we have a meeting to attend. ‘Bullying Harrington Club’ has to brainstorm ideas.”

Steve groaned as he shrugged on his shoes and started towards the door. “Don’t start that.”

“Too late,” Robin said and stuck out her tongue at him. “We have to have a ceremony for our newest member.”

“How many members do you have?” I asked with a smile.

“Three now,” Eddie said with a laugh. “You, me, and Robin. Adult’s only.”

I laughed. “Well I guess I should feel honored.”

“You should”, Robin said with a chuckle and weaved her arm through mine. “Only the best of the best can bully Steve.”

After pausing to let me tug my converse on, Robin guided me out the front door while she rambled about getting matching t-shirts to piss off Steve. Joyce was waiting out on the porch, pushing a jacket into Will’s hands. She turned to us with a smile, waving at Steve as he drove off. Robin let go of me to give her a hug, Eddie doing the same. Lastly Joyce turned towards me with her arms stretched out.

“Is this okay? I always hug my kids before they leave.”

Jesus Christ. If Joyce kept this up she was going to become my favorite out of everyone. I felt a lump form in my throat as I stepped forward into her arms. “Of course it is.”

She held onto me for a few moments longer than she did Eddie and Robin. When she stepped back, she patted my face softly. “You need anything, you call the house. The kids know my number. Anything at all.”

“I know,” I said as I took a step back and she dropped her hand. “Thank you.”

Joyce smiled again and waited for us to be loaded into the van before she stepped back into the house. Robin let me have shotgun, Eddie gesturing to the glovebox for me to pick a tape.

“Is she like this for everyone?” I asked as I read the label of a tape before picking up another one.

“Like she said,” Eddie said as he plucked the tape from my hand and shoved it in the radio. “Trauma bonds us together for life. With everything we’ve gone through, it’s safe to say she views us all as her kids now.”

I let that settle over me as we drove towards Steve’s. Was it that easy for some people? Mothers like Joyce? To take one look at a child and be claimed there’s?

If it was so easy for her, why couldn’t my own mother do it?

“So should we start with saying his hair is turning gray or we think it’s falling out?” Robin said with a laugh.

I turned to face her, mischief written all over her face. “Steve?”

She rolled her eyes. “Who else? C’mon, give me some ideas here Eddie! We can’t go after his room again, he’s already changed his comforter.”

Eddie laughed and I’ve noticed that when he full-body laughs, he throws head back like the laughter is fighting to burst out all at once. “Shit, really?”

“Yeah!” Robin said. “You gave him shit about that for weeks. Obviously he got into his head about it.”

“That room gave me a headache, thank god.” Eddie said as he turned to look at me. “Sweetheart, you should have seen it. Everything was plaid.”

I felt myself grimace as I tried to imagine it. “That would hurt my head.”

“Thank you!” Robin shouted from the backseat. “He didn’t believe me. You can thank his mom for that.”

“So it was his mom’s choice?”

“Uh, you’ll see when we get there. It is so minimally decorated, his parents are never home but refuse to let him change the house in any way.”

“So that’s what he meant about an empty house.” I said. “His parents just aren’t around?”

“Steve doesn’t like to talk about it.” Eddie said as he took a sharp turn and Robin shouted from the backseat. “Don’t say anything to him about it.”

“Sure,” I said, I would hate to offend Steve, he’s been nothing but kind to me. “Why aren’t they here?”

“Steve claims it’s because his dad works a lot and his mom follows so he can’t have affairs.” Robin started. “But I think once Steve feels like they realized he was a waste of their time they just stopped back here. His dad was pissed when he didn’t go off to school.”

“I know that feeling.” I said. I could almost feel the anger that my dad had the day I told him I wanted to take a break. Telling me that I was a disappointment, even when the man himself didn’t go to college. “I can see why he doesn’t want to talk about it.”

“Well,” Eddie said as he turned into the driveway of a big house. “I guess the only thing rich, absent parents are good for is keeping this place paid for.”

From the window of the van, I couldn’t tell how big the house was inside but I could practically see the dark hallways that Steve had to trudge through day in and day out. Sometimes you could tell the vibe of a house from the condition of the outside; but just because it looked well taken care of, doesn’t mean the inside held any warmth.

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dameronology · 2 years

Note

Omg! Steve Harrington with Taylor Swift prompt 4 please?? 😭

steve harrington + "you know damn well i would ruin myself for you a million little times"

(but i had to make it a little fluffier because i just rewatched vol 2 and quite frankly my heart cannot take angst right now)- p.s apologies for the lack of capital letters, i still haven't fixed my caps lock key <3

tw: mentions of injury

steve harrington's bedroom had become your haven amongst all the chaos.

with high ceilings and big windows, it was bright and airy. his sheets were soft and smelt like him and his mattress felt like it cost a million dollars. it was all a testament to how rich his parents were but for the sake of your own comfort, you were willing to disregard any personal feelings you had towards the matter for the sake of how fucking comfy you felt right now. it had just gone 8am and steve was passed out beside you, dead to the world for the first time in months.

the last few days felt like a pipe-dream; the upside down, max, eddie, everything. your life had become a game of dungeons & dragons, but every coming second had been a bad roll. there had been moments where you weren't even sure you would make it out the other side - even less so for steve. steve harrington, who always had to be the fucking hero. steve harrington, who threw himself in front of any sign of danger to protect you. you'd made it out the other side with a fair amount of cuts and bruises but nothing amounted to the ones littering the man you loved. he had both arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you to his chest and plagued with the fear that you might slip away. that he might wake up and find that you had died in the upside down, and that all of this was just a weary dream.

you loosely ran a finger over his bicep, wincing to yourself as you followed the ridges and lines of his fresh cuts. you could recall every single one and the thing that had caused them - nine out of ten times, it had been steve protecting you. even though you insisted that you didn't need it and even less that you didn't want it, he hadn't held back. it was wired into his instincts to defend you.

"admiring my wounds?"

you glanced up at steve, a small smile forming on your lips as his eyes flickered open. "yeah, something like that."

steve gently rolled to the slide, pulling his arm from beneath you to prop himself up. his free hand came to push a few strands of hair back from your face, settling on your jaw and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. his own hair was a mess, strands of brown and auburn sticking up in a million different directions.

"they'll heal," he said gently, forehead lingering on yours for a second. "you don't need to worry."

"who said i was worrying?"

"your face," he teased.

"i just don't like that you got most of them protecting me, steve-"

"- that wasn't your decision," he cut you off. "it was mine and i don't regret it for a single second, because you're here in bed, glaring at me. i wouldn't have it any other way."

"but-"

"- no buts, 'kay?," steve placed his index finger on your lips. "can't live your life according to buts and maybes and the hypotheticals. fact is that we're both here, maybe a little worse for wear, and maybe you're gonna be pissed at me for a while, but it'll pass. i'll heal."

"what if you regret it in a few years when all this scars?"

"scars only make people hotter," he reasoned. "i have no regrets. i would ruin myself a for you a million times, even if it meant i ended up looking like vecna. y'know, assuming you wouldn't leave me if i got ugly all of a sudden."

"i would never," you pressed a kiss to his jaw. "your personality is why i fell in love with you."

"that's a lie," steve shotback. "i thought it was my hair."

#asks #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington reader insert #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #stranger things reader insert #stranger things

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hard-boiled-criminal · 3 months

Text

Brimstone from the Throat

Chapter 2 - Baldur's Isekai

< Ch 1 | Ch 3 >

Masterlist

Ao3 Mirror

Pliiing…pling-pling-pliNG-pLING-PLING. The rising notes of a plucked violin could be heard in the otherwise silent room as you sat there, steadily tuning your violin. Bing-bong-bong-bing. You smiled in satisfaction at the sound of the four perfectly tuned strings, softly humming after being plucked one final time. And then you purposefully altered your e-string, tuning it to be an e-flat instead. You’d always loved the solo in Danse Macabre with how the violin was purposefully out of tune to create that haunting tritone, the diabolus of music.

You pulled up the song on your phone as you stood up and let it begin to play as you readied your violin on your shoulder, bow in hand. You took a deep breath and put your bow to the strings, playing along with the music. You swayed along to your playing, letting the natural movement aid in your pushes and pulls with the bow.

You played the final note and stood there, relishing in the aftermath of a piece well-played. With a satisfied grin you gently moved the violin off your shoulder.

«That was lovely.»

You startled, hearing a disembodied masculine voice in your head, instinctively tightening your grip on your violin, afraid of dropping it.

“…Thank you? I suppose?”

Your eyes darted around the room, understandably confused and a bit freaked out at the situation.

«Ah, yes, one should introduce themselves when first meeting an other,» the voice, low and smooth, spoke in dulcet tones. «Thou mayst calleth this one Astaroth. A pleasure to make thine acquaintance.»

‘Astaroth? I feel like I’ve heard that name before…’ you thought to yourself.

«Yes, there is a chance thou hast heard of mine name before,» the voice responded to your thoughts. «If thou art willing, there is a request I wouldst ask of thee.»

“Wait, wait a minute,” you backpedaled. “Look, buddy, I have no idea what’s going on. Am I going crazy? I must be. I’m hearing a voice in my head and talking to myself.” You laughed to yourself. “Ok, (y/n), no more late-night horror for you—you know it always gives you nightmares, and now they’ve started seeping into the land of the living.”

«I assure thee, thou art of good health, thy mind included,» they spoke again, further dashing your hope of there being a sane explanation for this. «I only ask of thee to first hear mine plea.»

“…Fuck it, whatever. Go ahead.” You sat down, violin hugged tight to your chest. You must be dreaming, so you might as well let it play out.

A sigh of slight disappointment, though not malicious, came from the voice, «‘Twould seem thou still hast thy doubts, yet I thank thee all the same,» a pause and then they speak again, «I am knownst as Astaroth, a demon lord of the Abyss. I have cometh to thee in search of aid for thou hast magickal potential untapped and untampered with, and thou hast not been influenced by an other entity.»

“Okay, maou stuff, classic anime, gotcha,” you nodded, playing along with whatever dream scenario your subconscious mind has come up with.

«I knoweth not what thou speakest of, but mineself senseths no hostility, so I shall taketh thy words as positive.»

“Cool. So, what didja wanna ask me?”

«I require’st thine aid in—Zshaa!» They interrupted themselves mid-sentence with a surprised and desperate shout, a sound reminiscent to the violent crash of a wave.

The air in front of you rippled and you froze, a scream stuck in your throat as the space in front of you tore to reveal a black void.

«Quick—!» The voice was barely able to shout out a single syllable before it was abruptly cut off at the same time a giant tentacle emerged from the dimensional rip. You pressed yourself against the back of your chair as it shot towards you before everything went dark.

…

You awoke to the feeling of your mind being pulled at, an unnatural force compelling you to wake. It was a sensation unlike anything you had experienced before. It felt as if your brain got whiplashed while your body held still, with a pinpoint headache forming at the center of your forehead.

‘If this is what it feels like to open your third eye, then I’m never opening it again.’

This was your first thought as you were forced to consciousness, your eyelids flickering open, lacking the usual heaviness felt when being woken up.

‘…why is there a person-sized Cthulhu in front of me?’

Your second thought was about this strange creature in front of you, slate-purple in color with four tentacles in place of a mouth. You watched in morbid curiosity as the Cthulhu raised its four-digit hand and reached out towards you.

‘Is Cthulhu asking for an E.T. moment? Well, far be it from me to deny him.’

You tried to raise your hand, but found it trapped underneath something. Attempting to look down and see what held your hand hostage was met with failure as your head was suddenly snapped back up to face the creature head on. You started to look around in a bit of a panic, not understanding why your body was being pulled around. That panic increased tenfold as you watched the Cthulhu hold up a fleshy, leech-like creature and slowly bring it towards your face with its other hand. You tried to back up against the odd-textured surface behind you—solid in some places and squishy in others.

You tried to close your eyes, but they wouldn’t listen to you. They were being held open as the leech came closer, closing in on your eye. You could see it clearly: tentacles sprouting from its lips, serrated teeth forming a circle within its mouth, a high-pitched screech growing louder as it came nearer. You couldn’t tell if the screech was from it or if it was your own. Frozen in place, you could only watch as it leapt forward, grasping your eye.

You can’t recall what happened after that, now finding yourself spread out on the ground, the beginnings of a migraine forming behind your eyes. You sit up slowly, legs bent and splayed to your sides, hand resting on the floor in front of you. You stare ahead blankly, looking but not truly seeing what’s in front of you. You sit there in silence, minutes passing by, all sounds around you muffled to complete unintelligibility.

“…What the fuck,” you shakily whisper, but no one was around to hear it save for you.

Your senses slowly come back to you, letting you begin to process all the stimuli assaulting you. It was warm—hot— sweltering in the dimly lit room. The sound of roaring wind can be heard through the walls, interrupted by rumbling roars and quick, intermittent explosions.

«…ng one? Young one, art thou able to hear mineself?» You hear the warm voice of Astaroth, the only thing that’s at least slightly familiar right now.

“Astaroth?” You weakly ask. “Wha-what’s going on?”

You hear a sigh filled with relief and guilt pass through your mind. «I must apologize to thee, young one,» his voice is low, sad, and filled with utmost remorse. «’Twould appear that mine defenses were lacking, for a nautiloid breached mine channel and hadst used it to taketh thee. Thou art in a realm different from thy home, connected to a material world far removed from thine own.»

“I’m what?” ‘A different realm? A material world? What the fuck is happening?’ You glance over the dark room you find yourself in, trying to discern what exactly happened. You see your violin and bow scattered across the floor, both close enough for you to reach over and grab. You hold your instrument close as Astaroth continues to speak.

«…I am truly sorry, young one. More shall be discussed yet that must wait for a later time. I senseth the approach of three beings whose intentions I knoweth not.» He pauses for a brief second before taking on a serious tone, not unlike one of a commander. «Unto thee I swear this: For as long as thou art willing, I shall protect thee until the time hast come when thou returns to thine home. On mine name and on mine honor, I commit to this oath.» His tone then returns to a much softer one, gentler than anything else you’ve heard from him. «’Tis mine own fault thou art in this predicament. I shall aid thee. Thou wilt not be bound to fulfill mine request, though I hope thou shall consider it once there is time laid before us to allow us to speak.»

“I—I still don’t really know what’s going on, but thank you, Astaroth,” you can feel yourself begin to smile, “I’ll put my trust in you.”

You feel a gentle warmth bloom throughout your body, starting at your chest.

«Of course, young one. Now be on thy guard. The three of whomst I hast spoken of have arrived.»

You nod and stand up on mostly steady legs. ‘You can do this. You have a demon lord in your corner, after all.’ You hold your violin by its neck in one hand and hold your bow like a sword in the other. You really don’t want to damage it but if you can poke that squid-face’s eye out with it, then so be it.

Across the room, the sphincter-like portal opens by twisting apart from the center. The motion combined with its design made you want to retch. More light filtered in, enough where you could clearly see the finer details of your surroundings. Three humanoid figures entered, weapons drawn—well, one of them just held their fists up but to each their own. Then, you got a good look at them.

By the gods, they were beautiful. Three gorgeous femme figures: A pale one with dark hair tied in a long braid, one red-haired and green-skinned with black markings, not human but you shouldn’t be surprised after seeing a Cthulhu-type creature earlier, and finally a dark elf—a drow, skin purple and hair white as snow.

Your appreciation is sadly cut short when they point their weapons, or fists, courtesy of the drow, at you. Violin and bow still held tightly, you raise your hands: the universal sign of surrendering, or at least you hope it will translate as such in this different realm. Then the drow speaks. It’s a language unknown to you, its syllables filled with as many consonants as seemingly possible, including sounds you aren’t even sure your mouth can make. You stare, eyes wide open and flickering between the three of them.

“Uhhhhh…”

«Ah, yes, I hadst almost forgotten. This may feeleth a bit strange to thee, but it shall allow for you to understand the tongues of this world and its realms, to an extent,» Astaroth said, though it seemed the people in front of you couldn’t hear his voice, or they at least made no indication of hearing him. You feel a gentle touch to your temples, that same comfortable warmth you felt earlier spreading throughout your head and easing the small migraine to nothingness.

You see the drow open her mouth again before you flinch at a sharp pain in your mind in the same place as the migraine you had just been relieved of. You see flashes of one of those tentacled beings putting a leech in the green one’s eye before floating over to do the same to you. These aren’t your memories. You open your eyes, not realizing you had even closed them, and see the drow clutching her head, wincing in the same way you are.

“Looks like you’re in the same boat as us,” the drow says.

Your eyes widen a bit, amazed that you can understand her. You can still hear her speaking that odd language, but it is almost like it’s being automatically translated in your head.

“First things first, we need to get to the helm to get off this ship,” she continues. “You should join us. We infected should stick together, don’t you think?” She smiles kindly at you.

“Chk! We cannot afford to pick up any more strays, istik!” The green one, sounding very annoyed, directs her gaze to the drow.

“More allies means more firepower, right?” The drow tries to placate her.

“Hmph. This one looks pitiful. If they fall behind we leave them. I have no interest in the weak,” she turns around after spewing some harsh words at you. “We have no time to waste. We must get to the bridge now!”

As the green one starts to walk out of the room, the drow smiles sheepishly at you while the ravenette stares at you, appraising you, with arms crossed.

“Ah, don’t mind Lae’zel,” the drow says, “I’m sure she just stressed. We don’t want to get left behind, so let’s get going, yeah?”

“Oh, uh sure. Yeah,” you clumsily agree and step towards her.

She gives you a confused look but shrugs it off in favor of following the one you now know as Lae’zel. The pale woman eyes you one last time before joining her. You quickly fall into step beside them, the three of you trailing behind Lae’zel.

«Looks like you’re able to understand them now. I’m glad.» Astaroth speaks in what you presume to be his native tongue. His language is beautiful, sounding like softly droning ocean waves. «I’m afraid I was unable to, for a lack of a better term, import the ability to speak these languages into your mind. It is much more difficult to implant such finite muscle memory paired alongside their respective reverse-translation routes.» He hummed in thought, «This will take some time for me to formulate but I will grant you the ability to speak common as soon as possible.»

‘Ok, cool, but a quick question. Why did your speech pattern suddenly change?’ You ask him.

«I’m a bit embarrassed to say this but my knowledge of your language is a bit outdated. How I spoke to you is the most recent knowledge of your language I have,» he explains, sounding a tad sheepish. «If you would allow me to look into your mind, I could begin to compile an updated vernacular.»

‘As long as it doesn’t hurt, then sure, knock yourself out.’

«Thank you. Hopefully this will help quicken my composition process to allow you to speak freely. But for now, I’ve been seeing that drow stealing glances at you.» You turn your head to see and end up meeting the drow’s eyes. «I’ll leave you to speak with your new companion. Fret not, though, I’ll be here should you need me.»

Locking gazes with the drow seemed to be all the permission she needed to strike up a conversation with you. “Well, I think some introductions are in order. As I said before, that’s Lae’zel,” she pointed to the grumpy red-head. “The quiet one is Shadowheart,” she points at the ravenette this time, “and you can call me Tav.” She smiles at you, “and what about you? What’s your name?”

“…(y/n).” It’s just your name, so you shouldn’t need to rely on a translator, right?

“Huh, never heard that one before,” Tav taps her bottom lip once. “I like it! Exotic and pretty!”

“Silence your mindless chatter!” Lae’zel shuts down your introductions. “The bridge is just up ahead.”

Speech key:

«Astaroth»

(“Tadpole talk”)

‘Thoughts’ - can be to self or Astaroth, depending on context

“Spoken aloud”

Next Chapter >

#astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #BffT

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mango-bango-bby · 2 years

Note

(=ↀΩↀ=)✧ dereDere Anon back with !! A request!! I have so many ideas and I’d like to send in multiple requests , but I also know workload can pile up very quickly and I don’t wanna burn ya out!!

(Personally my biases are Bokuto:hq, Choso/Geto:jjk, and Mirio:bnha! ›:33 )

For nowww~!

May I ask for a darling who is freshly abducted; Bokuto’s chest is pounding with excitement. The areas of the house Darlin’s allowed in were exactly their taste. He should know after all, he’s their most bestest friend! He knows all of your likes and interests.

He expects for Darling to be scared, confused, not able to understand the circumstances.

But when Dalring awakes, and sees Bokuto, they simply breaks out in a smile and asks what’s up— why they’re tied up…

It turns out his Adored Darling has been contemplating suwuc*de for the last year, yet Bokuto’s kind acts of affection and persistence to be with them, He, without his knowing, had already been their savior for a while.

“I don’t mind throwing my life away… but if you would make better use out of it, i would happily give it to you, Kou!~” <3

// I can see myself very easily falling into stalkholm syndrome, as it would be a dream for me to have only domestic responsibilities, with someone who loves me throughly and deeply. This may be a repeat question for other characters, but Bokuto, Tsukki, and Suga are my favorite Yans<33333 ’=//w//=`

♡ A Purpose ♡

(A/N: I cant decide if this is angst or fluff... I think it’s somewhere in between 🤔🤔 I can also see myself calling for any yandere if they’re willing to just co,fort me or love me 🥺🥺 Also you have good taste in characters 💖)

Content Warning ⚠️: Yandere, kidnapping, reader has depression, implied suicidal thoughts, stockholm syndrome, fluffy angst

Summary: You never really had a purpose, at least you felt like you didn’t so if Bokuto wants your purpose to be his love, you’ll take it (Yandere!Bokuto x GN!Reader)

Masterlist ➸ ♡

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Bokuto anxiously sits next to the bed you lay in. He worked so hard to make it so everything was perfect. He understood that being taken from everything you knew was going to be very overwhelming, so he tried to make everything perfect for you. He decorated your abc his room exactly the way you like, he got you a lot of gifts, and he got all of your favorite foods and snacks for you to eat.

He watches you as you sleep in your new bed. He had knocked you out with a drug but he was incredibly scared it might hurt you. Bokuto is just so nervous to see how you react to your circumstances, he knows if you break down he’s going to be tempted to let you go.

Bokuto watches as you gently flutter your eyes, you looking up at the ceiling as you wake up. “Good morning, baby! Are you feeling alright?” He asks cheerfully, although he was worried you might not feel well because of the drug. You slowly turn to him, slightly confused. But you smile once you realize it’s him. “I’m feeling alright. Where am I?” You ask, although you don’t sound scared.

Bokuto thought you would’ve been scared, especially because by now you realized that your hands and feet were tied. “You’re at your new home” he says, before continuing. “I couldn’t stand you not being mine so I took you! I just want to love you and keep you safe from everything” he says, smiling the same smile he always has.

You can see this nervous look in his eyes as if he’s waiting for you to act scared or start crying but you don’t. “I know that it’s bad” you start, pausing before you speak. “But I don’t mind this. I mean I know you, you couldn’t hurt me. And you’re the only person I really have, I want to be yours. I just want to return how much you’ve helped me” you say, looking up at him with glassy eyes.

You didn’t lie. All those things you said were true. You weren’t in the best mental state when you meet Bokuto. But everyday he went out of his way to talk to you, he asked about you, he smiled at you. He always made you feel wanted. Knowing you were so loved made you happy, you felt like you belonged now.

If you could help him out, give him whatever he wanted, you would do it. He practically saved you, you watch as he pouts before hugging you. You can’t hug back do to you being tied but you lean into his touch.

“I’ve never really had a purpose, so if my purpose is to be yours then I’ll take it” you say, leaving Bokuto speechless. Even if you agreed to be be his, he can’t help but feel a bit sad at your words. He could never think of you as someone with no purpose because to him you were absolutely perfect in every way.

He saved you, you only find it fair you return the favor.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ Thank you for reading, darling!!

#yandere haikyuu #tw #yandere bokuto #yandere!bokuto #yandere bokuto x reader #yandere koshi #yandere koshi x reader #yandere

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panie-wanie-dean-bean · 6 months

Note

Something slimy in the mines, you say? Is it fuckable? Will it kill me in a sexy way? April is going to have to stop me from throwing myself down the mines

I'm following April into the mines to see what's up with the slime. If she can sneak into my bed I can sneak into her workplace - Anon

I thought I'd group these together since the people need to know what horrors await them in the mines lol

So, the mines are heavily, heavily, guarded. It's one of the only places in town with actual security cameras and there's a keycard system to make sure only April and Linda can get in. If you manage to swipe on of their cards you can get in though they will see you through the cams eventually after which they'll send in a rescue party, aka April

But, once you're in stuff gets a little funky. It starts out as a regular cave but the deeper down you go there's these patches of pulsating rock. They start small but the farther down you go the more common they are, get even further and the rock starts to fall away from the movement, letting you see the pink fleshy interer of the cave

You might be too caught up with that notice that the mineshaft beams have stopped being wood, white bones like structures hold the cave open for you as you descend even deeper down. The farther you go the stronger a sickly sweet smell becomes, culminating in a large cavernous room

Some of the walls before had eyes but the ones in this room are huge, all of them deferent colors, and all of them trained in on you. There's a rumble in the cave that almost sounds like a large purr as thick, slimy tendrils detach from the walls of the room and slither towards you

It's oddly gentle with you, the tendrils softly petting and hugging you. One glides across your lips, and whether it's because of the amount of slime or your own willingness, it slips into your mouth. You piece together that the scent must have been coming from the slime as a warm sweetness coats your tongue and throat

You begin to squirm as a familiar heat pools in your stomach, the tendril in your mouth only feeding you more of it's slime to help you prepare. More tendrils emerge from the walls, helping you out of your clothes and bringing a nice cooling sensation to your skin as they explore you

They make sure they've got a hold on you before lifting you up towards the ceiling of the cave, the giant eyes looking you over, studying you as it brings you over the edge again and again and again

You pass out eventually, waking up in your own bed as if it was all a dream. But you can feel it's slime still inside you, and the warmth hasn't left. Luck for you your savior April is right there with you, and more than willing to help you clean up

#little town #LT April #LT Linda #LT The Mines #chromic-acid #whispers of an angry god

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theratboyking · 1 year

Text

Softly Into The Night

Prologue: He Came in the night

Author's Note:

So this is the edited version of the prologue I wrote early this year to this series. There are still probably a few things I missed but I really hope you guys enjoy it. I have a few ideas as to where this story can go. Comments and such are greatly appreciated, I would love to know what you guys think :)

Pairing: Cardinal Copia/Reader/Papa Emeritus iii (this will also have eventual Copia/Terzo but that won't be for a while) (This is also a slow burn so it's gonna be a while until we even get here)

Word count: 6.9k (This is so close to 7k holy fuck)

Summary: Demons are real, angels exist, and my father is the Prince of Darkness. A dream I can’t seem to wake up from. And two mysterious strangers that seem to have a connection to me. What could possibly go wrong?

Chapter Summary: This couldn't be real, I was just having a bad dream. He can't be real. My mom might have kept a lot of stuff from me but surely she would have something as important as being the Antichrist. I was going to wake up any minute now. I will be in my bed and go about my day normally but as I slam my eyes close willing myself to wake up, Lucifer still remained.

Warnings: 18+ (this is going to get be a wild ride folks,) Slow burn, Idiots in love, kinda soulmates? poorly translated Italian (I am sorry to all the Italians out there) fluff, angst, this is a ghost fic so you know religious trauma, some chapters will like get kinda deep in the religious philosophy but maybe not depending on the direction this goes, eventual smut (Chapter will be label

AO3 Link Next ->

“I needed to get a car.” The thought left my head just as quickly as it entered.

The late hour left the streets unsettling, almost too quiet. Usually, I don’t mind the walk; it helps me calm down, but with the increase in late nights at the office getting out of hand, I find myself leaving later and later with each passing day. The vacant streets are filled with deadly silence, only broken by the sound of my steps meeting the sidewalk and the chilling howl of the wind. The feeling that I’m being watched becomes almost impossible to ignore. The cold November air was biting my face, and my steps quickened. The pit in my stomach that had been forming all sinking deeper the further I walked away from my job.

The moon hung high in the sky, providing more light than the flickering street lights. The breeze only seemed wilder with distance - it almost sounded like someone was screaming. The leaves on the trees cry out into the night with each gust of wind. I shiver, stuffing my hands in my coat pockets, seeking warmth from the cold. The feeling of dread grew further from my office.

I’m probably just being paranoid. The events of this miserable day are still fresh in my mind; that's what it had to be. I’m just tired. My bed practically called my name. All I could imagine was falling face-first into bed and forgetting about this whole day.

I was so lost in thought I didn’t even notice the cracks in the road. Losing my balance, I lost my grip on my bag. Some of the contents spilled out. I scramble to grab the contents, hoping that the feeling of being watched was nothing more than that. A feeling.

I couldn’t help but let my thoughts wander as I gathered everything, starting my journey home once more. Nothing seemed to want to go my way today. It all started with me sleeping well past my alarm. My morning consisted of me stumbling to prepare for the day, missing my mother's daily call worrying about how I was doing. She left a somewhat cryptic message stuck in my day this morning. I practically ran out my door by the time I was finally ready. My outfit was half haphazardly put together, and my coffee was missing the creamer I use, hoping I had enough time to make it to the bus stop. It seemed whatever higher power there is would not take pity on me today, the bus just leaving as I hurled myself around the corner. I was nearly two hours late when I finally got to work. My desk was already littered with piles of work I would need to have done before the end of the day. When it had finally come time for everyone to start heading home, it came to no one's surprise when Andrew dropped an additional mountain of papers on my desk, saying it needed to be done before the meeting tomorrow, his smug face almost sending into a rage.

No, today has not been my day. I can't help the groan that leaves my lips when I glance at my phone, 1:47 flashing across the screen. Even for me, this is late; I’m usually out of the office before midnight. It felt like whatever had been watching me started to join me on the venture home.

When the run-down building I call my home came into view, I had an internal panic attack. I practically sprinted into the lobby, relieved to see that the ancient elevator was working for a change. The only good news I’ve gotten today.

“Come on, come on, come on.” the words fell under my breath - my fist never let up on the button. I threw my head in panic, eyes scanning desperately to make sure no one had entered the decrepit building. The room remained empty, the only person crazy enough to be out right now being my frantic form.

It felt like a lifetime before the familiar ding broke the thick silence the room was drowning in. The doors opened slowly. “Thank God.” relief makes its way to my voice as I throw myself into the elevator's safety. My panic state only subsided when the doors creaked closed. Pushing the button for my floor, I slump against the wall taking a deep breath, trying to slow my racing heart. The confines of the lift calmed me slightly; my head began to rest against the cold metal of the wall behind my eyes started to close. My thoughts wander to the message Mom left me this morning. She sounded more paranoid, if that was possible. She frantically switched between telling me I had stayed here too long, how she should have said to me about my father - how I needed to get out tonight. The call only ended with her pleading that I did not go home tonight and that I call her back as soon as I could.

Her voice had an edge; I’d never heard her that scared. Usually, I don’t give her ramblings much thought; I left all of that behind when I moved away, but after my walk home tonight and the dread I’ve been feeling all day, I can’t help but believe her. She even mentioned my father; that was something she never did. My dad was a touchy subject for her. Maybe I should have just stayed the night at my desk. Sighing, my body relaxed further into the wall. I can already feel my frustration growing. Even after escaping, she still affects me.

The relationship between me and my mom was tense, to say the least. My mother always wanted to have kids but was told she could never. When I was young, she told me that finding out she would have a kid was some of the best news of her life. After that, it was just me and her for as long as I could remember. I never knew my father; my mom left him before I was born. Although I am my mom's pride and joy, to say that she is overprotective would be putting it mildly. It was scarce that she even let me out of her sight.

Throw in the fact that I was a magnet for the unexplainable. I had a knack for finding trouble, or rather, it had a knack for finding me. Strange things always seem to follow us to whatever poor town we wall home. The amount of time our power in the house would flair too much to count - objects fell off the counter when I was in a room - a mirror breaking when I was angry. The list was endless, if I’m being honest. We never really seemed to stay in a town longer than a year before the weird occurrences around me became too noticeable, sending us packing to whatever city she decided on in the car as we left.

Despite all the wild rules my mom made me live by, she always had my back in life, always coming to my aid when I needed her. Although my temper boiled over a lot as a kid, I struggled to control my emotions. Hell, I still do. I was always the scary new kid, an easy target for their endless bullying. Their cruel behavior often sent me over the edge, but Mom was always there to defend me. Mom had to come to school a lot to deal with the angry parents and teachers over whatever I had done more times than I could count. But she was never angry.

In a way, she understood the struggle I was having. It was one of the few comforts I had in my childhood. As I grew up, I started to loathe constantly moving; I just wanted to be expected. I couldn’t take running from place to place when things got terrible anymore. It was hard finally break free from the restraining rules she had in place for me all my life.

It was a nightmare telling her I wanted to be on my own. The argument was long and filled with every insult we could think to throw at the other, but it was a battle she lost. I was not taking no for an answer. It was the only time I had ever seen her genuinely angry. Even after I had moved to my current home, she called daily, always expressing her worry about me being in the city all by myself. I’ve grown so used to my mom's antics that I don't mind it anymore.

There was just something about this message that I couldn't seem to shake. I spring to my feet, huffing in frustration. I had hardly noticed how long it’s been. The abrupt halt of the elevator made me lose my balance; even the doors seemed hesitant to see what was on the other side.

I jumped as the moths flew in, going immediately to the bright light that hung from the center of the elevator. Then, clearing my throat, I composed myself. I relaxed at the sight; it was just how I left it, wallpaper peeling off. The dimly lit lights flickered as I made my way down the hall. Nothing was on fire, no weird man was standing in my hallway, and all my neighbors were probably sleeping in their beds.

But still, I paused when I reached my door, wondering if I should go in or not. Mom’s warning is playing through my thoughts; I’m thinking about just taking a cab to the airport to stay at her house for a bit. I shake my head; this is ridiculous. Nothing is going to happen; I’m being paranoid. I’m not a little kid anymore; Mom's crazy stories aren't going to run my life anymore. I shuffle around my bag, grabbing my keys. I am a grown adult; I can't keep running all my life. I unlocked the door, quickly letting myself in, relieved to finally be home.

Refelife was short-lived as I went to flip the switch to turn the lights on… Nothing.

I groan, flipping the button several times just for safety. Well, shit. The darkness I was met with did little to help with the fear I was already feeling, mentally punching myself. I could have sworn I paid the electric bill. Today just keeps getting better and better.

I throw my bag on the coat hanger I keep by the door. Quietly I removed my shoes, cautiously beginning to the living room. I hesitate right before I enter, almost convinced that someone will be sitting waiting for me. I take a deep breath bracing myself. As fast as I could, I rounded the corner, ready to fight any possible intruder, only to be met with the sight of my empty couch and TV. There was no sign anyone had broken in. Just like out there, everything is precisely how it was when I left this morning.

Ok, I may be paranoid. Just the effects of having a bad day today, that's what it has to be—relaxing with every small step I take to my room, laughing nervously as I go. I just need to go to bed. I have to be at work in less than six hours, and I still need to take a shower. So I continued to go to my room, lost in my thoughts.

“Hello, my dear.” A low infernal rumble surrounded me, sounding as if it was fading in and out of the silence of the room it was trapped in. My breath catches in my throat. My eyes go wide as realization dawns on me… I was not alone.

Oh fuck. I twisted around to see the figure that somehow went unnoticed. I stumbled back, falling when I tripped over the coffee table. The scream that left my body sounded like it came out of a horror film as I tried to return to my feet.

This is it. This is how I’m gonna die, isn't it? I could see blue flames floating in the darkness of the hallway I had come from. Oh fuck.

Fuck, I am not about to die letting my mom be right.

Regaining my balance, I look around desperately, trying to find a way to escape or defend myself. He took up the space of the hallway that led to my door. I couldn't run. I couldn't go out the window either; I lived on the seventh floor. My building's fire escape couldn't handle my weight being so unkempt. I couldn’t escape. Fighting it is. Grabbing the lamp from the coffee table, I bring myself to a fighting possession, ready to defend myself from the intruder. I stood my ground; I would not show whoever this was the satisfaction.

A deep chuckle emerged from the hallway, the two blue orbs getting brighter the closer he got. He entered soon after, filling the room with his impossible form, the moonlight from the window draped his figure with each step he took toward me.

He was abnormally tall, and his body was unnaturally thin. The massive pair of wings stretching from take up the most space. They looked like they had almost been scorched, the bottoms glowing with dying flames. His face was almost too perfect, skin impossibly smooth like it had never seen a blemish a day. His eyes danced with blue flames, piercing into my soul, lips stretched in a gentle smile. His gaze held something familiar about it like he knew everything there was to know about me, all my deepest darkest secrets. His hair almost looked like starlight cast a halo around his head, coming to rest halfheartedly around his shoulders. His body seemed to flare around him, not looking like it had a shape. The abnormally perfect skin poking out, marking the distinct forms of where his arms and legs should be, speaks of silver shining throughout the black void that made up the rest of his body. His movement was unnaturally smooth, making his body appear almost motionless as he approached me. He was unsettling to look at, but it was impossible to look away.

Why the fuck didn’t I listen to Mom

He stopped before me, looking from my face to my makeshift weapon. The void that was his body took up more space as he scratched what looked like his hand, gently taking the lamp from my hand. I couldn't seem to put up a fight, my body refusing to move in his presence. He looked at it in amusement before placing it back where it went. His gaze turns back to my eyes. My breath catches in my throat.

“You’ll have to do better than this if you truly wish to stand a chance against me, my darling.” His voice is low and smooth, like honey sounding like each word would build on itself, hanging heavy in the air until it faded. Amusement and wonder made their way to what should be his face, almost waiting to see what I would do next. Who does this creature think he is? Was he toying with me before it ended me? A sick display for his amusement? I refuse to play his game. I refuse to show how scared I am.

“If you’re going to kill me, just get it over with.” my voice was cold, my anger rising with each passing moment.

Confusion made its way to his face - head tilting to the side. “Kill you? No, I am not here to kill you.” He pauses, bowing, “I am here to meet the daughter who was stolen from me.” “Daughter?” The word slipped past my lips. So this thing was my father? This had to be some sick nightmare; there was no way this was real life.

I refused to look away from his eyes, trying to hide the fear racing through my veins, “No. No, there's no way that I’m your daughter. I’m sorry, but you must be mistaken.” My voice wavered, but I refused to back down. “Who… What are you?”

He took a step back, looking surprised that I did not know who he was, as if it was the most obvious thing on the planet. Then, he proudly gestured towards himself, lowering his body so that his intense stare aligned with mine.

“I am known by many names. Too many to count. I am the Devil, but your mother would have known me as Lucifer.” He paused, giving me a moment to process the statement, not speaking again until his words died in the air. “I have waited a long time to meet you finally,” his gaze softened, his lips morphing into a small smile. “Your mother and I did have a rather large love affair.” voice low and full of fondness. Finally, he returned to his impossible height, “Has your mother told you nothing?” The question hung heavy in the air.

The answer to the question was simple. “No.” It was so quiet I don’t know if he even heard it.

Mom was full of secrets; there was a lot of stuff according to her; I was better off not knowing. Mom refused to even acknowledge any contribution my father had in creating me. Always taking constant prying just for the smallest of details I begged for as a child. The very few times she would mention him, there was always a far-off look in her, losing herself in thought. But indeed, something as big as the fact that my father was the literal King of Hell would be worth knowing. The room was spinning around me; this couldn’t be real. My knees give out, and my body collapses on the couch. This had to be a nightmare. I will wake up at my desk any minute, then go about my uneventful day, rinse, and repeat.

“Well, that has certainly made matters a lot more complicated,” His voice appeared less distorted with each word he spoke, shrinking down to a normal-sized human,“ I was hoping to avoid this, I always hate to make myself more suitable for mortals, but your mother was always an exception.” The otherworld figure changed into something more human as he went.

He looked pristine, the black suit that came to rest on his body starkly contrasted with the pale skin that peaked out. Pushing his platinum blond hair away from his eyes, relieving them to be the same color as the piercing blue flames that previously took its place. Even in this form, he redacted an extraordinary power only he seemed to possess; even now, it was still otherworldly.

“I should have known Mary wouldn't have said anything, the stubborn woman she is.” He adjusted his outfit slightly.

”Now,” clapping his hand together, he carried on, “why don’t we bring her here so she can explain herself?” He cleared his throat, straightening himself to his new height, “Let’s not make this difficult, Mary; there is much to explain and not a lot of time to do it.”

Snapping his figures nonchalantly, there was a moment when nothing happened. I dared not make a sound as a ring of blue fire sprang to life in the middle of my living room, the vague shape of a figure appearing with it.

“What the hell?” The confused voice made me sit up in my seat. There in my living stood my mother, not phased by the fact that she had somehow ended up here. Scanning the room in confusion, she stops at the sight of me and Lucifer.

She looks like she's seen a ghost. “Lucifer.” Straightening her stance at the sight of him. “You haven't changed a day.” Voice losing its confusion. “Hello, my love.” Lucifer bows slightly toward my mother.

“So you finally found her?” She sounded defeated.

“I never lost sight of either of you,” an impossible warmth in his eyes at his confession.

“Of course, you didn't,” she chuckled softly, pausing, looking towards my disheveled form. “We don’t have to do this, you know.”

“I’m afraid that we must, my love. Time is running out” His voice was quiet as he shook his head, “She is only getting stronger; she needs to learn to control it.”

Mom scoffed and stepped out of the circle, going over to him; the flames collapsed as if they were never there. She stopped before him, hand gently cradling his face as she continued, “I tried my hardest to keep it under control. To keep her hidden. She knows nothing of your world, Lucifer. You can’t just show up now and destroy that for her. I told you I did not want this life for her. We agreed she would have a normal life. ”

“No, you made that choice Mary. You are the one who left our home, left me. You got scared of what we created, and you ran. You didn’t even allow me to prove I could be there for you throughout it. To prove that you were something so incredibly dear to me. You and our child.” His fiery gaze briefly rested on me before returning to Mom. “You ran as you did for everything else. That is your sin, Mary.” A warning tone filled his voice.

My mother looked shocked as he reached for the hands she had brought to his face, bringing them close to his chest. “We both knew this would happen one day. She has a right to know the realm she will one day rule. However, it’s becoming too dangerous for her to hide from her true nature. It is growing harder to keep her powers sealed inside of her; I’m afraid it's time, my love. The veil is only growing thinner; hiding what she is is hard. The time is coming when she will no longer be able to hide it anymore.”

“I need more time; she's still just our little girl, Lucifer.” her voice cracked, muffling as she dropped her face into his chest. His arms came to rest around her frame, doing his best to comfort her, “I am afraid we’re running out of time, My love.”

The room buzzes around me, a million questions flying to my mind as their conversion sinks in. What about a veil? What powers were they talking about? This is crazy; they talk about me like I’m not there. Was my whole life based on a lie? I couldn’t stand to sit there anymore; I need answers, and them now. “Can someone please tell me what the fuck is going on!” This snapped them out of their reunion; seeming to remember I was there. My sudden outburst surprised them; hell, even I was surprised.

Breaking from Lucifer, Mom made her way to the couch, taking me in her arms. “My baby,” swaying my body with hers, tears leaking into my hair as her body begins to shake, “I should have been honest with you. I should have told you when you first started showing signs. I didn't know what to do; I always thought I would have more time.” I couldn’t tell if she was trying more to comfort herself rather than me.

I jump when I feel a cold hand rest on my shoulder. At some point during Mom’s breakdown, Lucifer had moved so that he was now resting on the other side of me, allowing us to have our moment. This is surreal.

“I need you to tell me what’s happening, Mom.” Trying my best to keep my cool, slightly pushing her away.

Sniffing as she tried to dry the never-ending sea of tears, “Oh honey. I fell in love with a handsome young man long ago. He had a lot of money to spare and told me he worked in business. He said he made deals all day, so he was never home during the day. He told me I would want nothing for as long as I lived. Then one day, he asked me to marry him. I was young and in love with a man who showered me affectionately; baby, we were so happy. I was told I could never have kids; we weren’t using protection. And then, one day, I found out I was pregnant with you. I was thrilled; Lucifer was overjoyed at the news. But with the news, Lucifer suddenly had a lot he needed to tell me. He told me everything about who he was, showed me what he was, and told me what you could be. I got so scared of what could happen, and I knew I had to find a way to keep you safe.” she took a shaky breath pausing before continuing, “So I took as much money as I could and a suitcase of clothes, and I ran. Even after I had you and you started showing signs, we kept running; we have been running all your life. Honey, Lucifer is your father. You are the Antichrist…” Her mouth held agape; no words escaped after she uttered those words.

My mind goes blank at her confession. This couldn't be real; sure, I had my moments, but nothing extraordinary about me; there was no way I could be the Antichrist. I work in an office job, for god sake. Mom looked on helplessly, trying to give me answers to my raging questions but didn't know where to start.

As if sensing this, Lucifer said, “Growing up, did you experience strange things happening around you? It started small initially, things you could easily push to the back of your mind. A classmate falling after you said she hoped she would after she pulled your hair? Always a figure just out of sight but vanishing when you focus on it? Your favorite snakes appearing out of thin air just because you wanted them?” He stopped momentarily; I turned my body completely to look at him. I can feel my eyes widening in realization; everything he had mentioned happened in my childhood. Things I have never said to anyone before in my life. Not even my mom knew about these things, but it was as if he knew the memories by heart.

He didn't allow me to ask before he continued, an edge forming in his voice, “But as you grew up, they only seemed to become less and less explainable. More supernatural. The fire that mysteriously started in your kitchen when your date stood you up? The window at work shattering in front of your boss when you didn’t get the promotion you worked for? Or how about the time your coworker fell down the stairs just after he was getting just a little too handsy?” The horror began to sink in with each passing question; these were all things that happened in the last year. Events I had tried to brush off as mere coincidence, now I’m not so sure.

“Stop.” I can’t think; this isn’t real; I need to wake up now.

“And they have only been getting stronger; people are starting to notice, aren't they? This is but a fraction of the power you possess. We have tried to suppress them, but they are becoming too powerful to build up inside you. It is only a matter of time before it swallows you whole.” He refused to give up; he was trying to prove something.

“Please. Please stop” I can feel tears start to fall, I can't breathe, and I feel like my body is on fire. I think my mom grab my arm, trying to help calm me. I can feel myself losing control the more he pushes.

He was relentless “You are my child. You are forever burdened with darkness you cannot run from. Destiny is calling upon you, and you can no longer hide. You must face who you are.”

“Shut up!” There was a sickening shatter around the room. Glass fell to the floor. The coffee table and tv looked like a baseball bat had been taken to them. The tears fell silently as I looked on in disbelief. There was sadness in his eyes, but still, they held comfort in them. Almost like he was apologizing for everything. He returns his hand to my shoulder, slowly rubbing comforting circles into my shirt.

“I tried to let you live normally for as long as possible. I kept your true nature inside you, but even with that, it spilled out. You have only gotten stronger as you’re older, and I am so proud of you for controlling it as well as you have.” He stopped as if contemplating what to say next. His face held what looked like love as he gently pushed some of the hair out of my face, “I can not take this away from you, but I know a place that can help.” He was gentle with his words, a sort of parental comfort melting into his smooth voice.

Had he genuinely come here tonight with no malintent? Was he here to help me? I can feel my mom slowly rubbing up and down my back. This is happening. My whole life had been a lie. I’m not crazy. Everything that had happened in my life that I had tried so desperately to explain finally made sense. The weight of their touch was the only thing keeping me in this reality. I did not want my father to be Lucifer, but I couldn't help but feel like he had always been there. The moment felt all too comforting, despite my whole life falling around me.

“What can I do?” There was no going back from this, everything had changed, and I could do nothing to stop it.

His voice never lost its warmth as he explained, “There is a ministry where many of my most devout followers reside; one of the most loyal bloodlines to serve me runs the church from there. They have proven useful in spreading my message to the world. Although most of them have had experiences with the occult, they could help you understand your birthright. You would be well protected from those wishing to cause you harm now that you are becoming more noticeable.”

“Who would want to hurt me?” I question an edge of fear forming in my voice.

“The more powerful you become, you will become a beacon to the many creatures in this world. However, you would cause a lot of problems with the plans they have. Many would not wish to see you become a problem for them. Many would do anything to make sure you do not fulfill your destiny. It is unsafe for you to remain in the open like this; I might be unable to protect you from everything.” His warning crashed down on me, was I already being hunted? Was my intuition correct? Did they already know where I am?

“This is my life. I can’t just disappear from it, from all I know.” I protest weakly, the fear never leaving as he explains the danger I am in, but the desire to finally have answers for all the burning questions I had growing up only seemed to keep growing. What am I capable of doing?

“A life that has done nothing but shuns you for who you are. People have never understood you; you were never meant to live in such a dull world. I can offer you a place to finally feel as though you belong. Become something truly worthy of the world you will one day rule. But know this, it is your choice. Experience the world you were born to be a part of; you will no longer be an outcast. Embarrass the princess of hell you were born to be. The seal on your powers would be broken, you would be all-powerful, and you must learn to control it. If you do not go, you will lose complete control over who you are. The darkness inside of you will devour you till you are unrecognizable. Eventually, you will die and become something even more grotesque. If you choose this, I will keep your powers inside you for as long as possible; I will protect you with my life to give you as much time as possible. I cannot force you to make any decisions; it is up to you to make that choice. If you decide to go, you will not return to this life. You will have to embrace the unholy god you will become if you are to accept what destiny has laid out for you.” The warning hung heavy in the air.

I was beginning to fall for the temptation of his offer; I could feel my hesitation leaving me. The fear being the only thing remaining, do I have a choice? If I stayed here, there was a strong likelihood that I would die. People started noticing the connection between me and the events that seemed to follow me like a shadow. It was beginning to reach a point where I would have to move away anyway. He was right; nothing was keeping me here; it’s not like I had anything worth staying for. I had a job going nowhere that was working me to death. I had no friends and no boyfriend. There was no reason I really should stay. But if I go to this ministry to learn about what I am, to learn to control it, would I still be me, or will I become something else entirely? But then again, I have never indeed been me; I have been desperately trying to be what everyone else wanted me to be. I had been an outcast my whole life, trying to hide from others for some sort of acceptance; even in the life I’ve built here, I still do it. I have never felt normal because I have never been normal. Could this finally fill the void I have felt for so long? Can my soul finally feel like it is no longer wandering? The only thing keeping me from accepting was how terrified I was.

Mom shuffled from behind me, turning me to face her. She had been crying more than me. The tears stained her puffy cheeks as she tried to put on her best reassuring smile, “He’s right, honey. I tried to keep you safe, but I only made this worse. I had tried for so long to protect you from getting hurt that I never saw how much you already were. I’m sorry for everything; I’m sorry that I failed you. I love you so much. I wish I could have more time but baby, you need to go.”

I couldn’t hold it in anymore; I collapsed into her. “You never failed me, Mom.” I was holding her with such force I’m surprised I didn’t snap her in half, “I love you too.” We stayed like this for a minute, neither wanting to let go.

“I’m afraid we are running out of time; once the sun rises, I must return to Hell. The choice is yours, but it needs to be made.” Lucifer breaks the moment. I gazed at the clock on my wall that had been cracked during my outburst, 4:08. Shit, I hadn't noticed how long either of them had been there. I look back to Lucifer; I had made my choice.

“Take me there.” A fire had been lit inside me, a determination I had never felt setting in. I have to know who I am and what I am capable of. I would not succumb to this; I would not die. I will fight; I will live.

“And so it shall be,” he only remained serious for a moment, relaxing as if he was relieved by the outcome, “I love popping into the Abbey now and then; the ghouls there are always so fun.” He was no longer beside me on the couch; he stood by my mother; I didn't even feel him move.

He kneeled before her, taking her face into his hand, gently wiping away her tears. “My love, I promise we will not lose our daughter.”

She gripped his hand as if it were her lifeline, “I hope you're right, darling.”

“Next time, we will have more time to catch up.” Lucifer joked lightly, searching her face for reassurance that they would meet again.

“Here’s to next time,” Mom gently smiled at a silent promise being made. Then, she turned to look at me, breaking from Lucifer to take me in her arms once more. This time I’m surprised she didn't break me. “Destiny comes in many faces; you will find yours.” The cryptid words rang low in my ear as she pulled away.

She looked once more to Lucifer, voice trembling. “Make sure she is safe, my love.” They begin to move closer to each other.

“I will,” he vowed as their lips met.

A blue flame erupted around them, consuming their figures, and my mother slowly faded away. They only break away from the other once the two of us are left. He looked sadly at the vacant spot on the couch, a soft smile on his face as he looked at where my mother once sat.

Not moving from his spot, he turns his gaze to me. Red begins streaming down his face, silent tears falling from his eyes, “I wish things could have been different. I wanted nothing more than to have been a part of your life and truly watched you grow into the strong young woman you have become. But that is not what fate gave me, and I’m afraid I am out of time.”

The form he had taken since my mother had arrived began to melt. Black smoke emitted from him. The flames that had been there before sprung to life; he had returned to the form he had taken when we first met. His voice returned to the heavy force it once was, “Once you take my hand, there will be no going back. You will become a Princess of hell; I cannot promise that the transformation won't be painless.”

He stood up suddenly, and at such a speed it was almost impossible to see, “Do you understand?” He began to reach out his hand slowly, giving me one last chance to decline his offer.

"Yes.” I didn't hesitate in my response. I was no longer scared; I refused to be; a part of me wanted this; it was begging to be let out. Taring at its cage, freedom within its grasp. I stand from the couch, looking up to meet his gaze, “I understand.”

“Good.” Despite the gravity of the situation, he never changed how he looked at me. I looked at the hand he had stretched in front of him. I took his hand.

For a moment, nothing happened, then it hit me all at once; it felt like a thousand suns had gone supernova inside of me. I was being burned from the inside out; it felt like a fire was trying to burst out from the inside. I could feel my body contorting as I collapsed to the ground. I could barely make out my finger sharpening, my arm was getting long, and my fingertips turning jet black. My body felt as if it was being stretched out. The raw energy flowing through every cell in my body felt like I was being torn apart and put back together at a speed I could not comprehend. What must have been seconds felt like an eternity before it stopped.

I could faintly make out the sound of Lucifer’s voice, “Extraordinary,” before I lost complete consciousness, letting the nothingness take me.

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bittwitchy · 2 years

Text

TAYLOR SWIFT MIDNIGHTS SENTENCE STARTERS

Change pronouns as you see fit. CW: ED, depression, etc

Lavender Haze

“Meet me at midnight”

“You don’t ever say too much.”

“You don’t really read into my melancholia.”

“I’ve been under scrutiny.”

“You handle it beautifully.”

“All this shit is new to me.”

“I feel a lavender haze creeping up on me.”

“I’m damned if I do give a damn what people say.”

“I just wanna stay in the lavender haze.”

“All they keep asking me is if I’m gonna be your bride.”

“The only kind of girl they see is a one night or a bride.”

“I just need this love spiral.”

“Get it off your chest.”

“Get it off my desk.”

Maroon

“Cause we lost track of time again.”

“How’d we end up on the floor anyway?”

“The lips I used to call home, so scarlet it was maroon.”

“When the silence came we were shaking blind and hazy.”

“How the hell did we lose sight of us again?”

“Sobbing with your head in your hands.”

“Ain’t that the way shit always ends?”

“Carnations you thought were roses, that was us.”

“I feel you no matter what.”

“When I lost you.”

“Awake with your memory over me.”

“That’s a real fucking legacy to leave.”

Anti Hero

“I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser.”

“Midnights becomes my afternoon.”

“When my depression works the graveyard shift l of the people i ghosted stand in the room.”

“I should not be left to my own devices.”

“They come with prices and vices.”

“I end up in crisis.”

“I’ve realized all this time.”

“I wake up screaming from dreaming.”

“One day I’ll watch as you’re leaving.”

“You got tired of my scheming for the last time.”

“I’m the problem.”

“It’s me, I’m the problem, it’s me.”

“At tea time, everybody agrees.”

“I’ll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror.”

“It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti hero.”

“I’m a monster on the hill.”

“Pierced through the heart, but never killed.”

“Did you hear my covert narcissism disguised as altruism”

“Life will lose all of its meaning for the last time.”

“I have this dream my daughter in law kills me”

“She’s laughing up at us from hell.”

Snow on the Beach

“I saw flecks of what could’ve been lights.”

“It might have just been you.”

“Life is emotionally abusive.”

“My flight was awful, thanks for asking.”

“I’m unglued thanks to you.”

“It’s like snow on the beach.”

“Weird but fucking beautiful.”

“Tonight feels impossible.”

“I’ve never seen someone live from within.”

“To hide that would be dishonest.”

“It’s fine to fake it til you make it.”

“I can’t speak, afraid to jinx it.”

“I don’t even dare to wish it.”

“Can this be a real thing?”

You’re on your own, kid.

“Summer went away, still the yearning stays.”

“I play it cool with the best of them.”

“I wait patiently, he’s gonna notice me.”

“I didn’t choose this town.”

“I dream of getting out.”

“I waited ages to see you live.”

“Just to learn you never cared.”

“You’re on your own kid. You always have been.”

“I see the great escape.”

“I picked the petals, he loves me not.”

“Something different bloomed.”

“I run away.”

“I gave my blood, spending tears more or less.”

“I hosted parties and starved my body.”

“Like I’d be saved by the perfect kiss.”

“I looked around in a blood soaked gown.”

“Cause there were pages turned when the bridges burned.”

“Everything you lose is a step you take.”

“Yeah you can face this.”

Midnight Rain

“I don’t remember what you said or how you said it.”

“The way you looked at me so different.”

“Cold as ice, I won’t forget it.”

“The way you change your heart, it’s like the weather.”

“You’re willful, I’m headstrong.”

“The daybreaks, I move on.”

“Still one thing I can’t long for.”

“Feels like midnight rain.”

“I can’t help it, I hear your name.”

“I can’t seem to wash you away.”

“Still I got myself in your flames.”

“I wouldn’t wonder what you’re doing with your time.”

“If you have a lover.”

“I pretend you’re forgiven.”

“When I change my heart, you’re not forgiven.”

Question…?

“Big cities, wrong choices.”

“We had one thing going on.”

“I swear that it was something.”

“I don’t remember who I was before you.”

“One thing after another fucking situations, circumstances, miscommunications.”

“By the way, I just may like some explanations.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room?”

“Then what did you do?”

“Did you leave her house in the middle of the night?”

“Did you wish you put up more of a fight?”

“When she said it was too much, do you wish you could still touch her?”

“She was on your mind with some dickhead guy.”

“You’re not sure and I don’t know.”

“Does it feel like everything’s just like second best?”

“What was that that I heard? That you’re still with her?”

Vigilante Shit

“Draw the cat eye sharp enough to kill a man.”

“You did some bad things, but I’m the worst of them.”

“Sometimes I wonder which one of them will be your last lie.”

“They say looks can kill and I might try.”

“Lately I’ve been dressing for revenge.”

“I don’t start shit but I can tell you how it ends.”

“Don’t get sad, get even.”

“She needed cold hard proof, so I gave her some.”

“Picture me, thick as thieves with your ex wife.”

“And she looks so pretty driving in your benz.”

“Ladies always rise above.”

“Someone sweet and kind and fun.”

“Well he was doing lines, and crossing all of mine.”

“I don’t dress for villains, or for innocents.”

“I’m on my vigilante shit.”

Bejeweled

“Didn’t notice you walking all over my piece of mind.”

“And by the way, I’m going out tonight.”

“Best believe I’m still bejeweled when I walk in the room.”

“I can still make the whole place shimmer.”

“Familiarity breeds contempt.”

“Diamonds in my eyes, I polish up real nice.”

“I think I’ve been too good of a girl.”

“I think it’s time to teach some lessons.”

“I made you my world, but have you heard, I can reclaim the land?”

“I miss you, but I miss sparkling.”

“When I meet the band, they ask ‘do you have a man’ i can still say I don’t remember.”

“Sapphire tears on my face, sadness becomes my whole sky.”

“Some guy said my aura’s moonstone just ‘cause he was high.”

“What’s a girl gonna do? A diamond’s gotta shine.”

Labyrinth

“It only hurts this much right now.”

“Breathe in, breathe through, breathe deep, breathe out.”

“I’ll be getting over you my whole life.”

“You know how scared I am.”

“It rises past, it can’t last.”

“Uh-oh, I’m falling in love.”

“Oh no, I’m falling in love again.”

“How’d you turn it right around.”

“Lost in the labyrinth of my mind.”

“Break up, break through, break free, break down. “

“You know how much I hate that everybody expects me to just bounce back.”

Karma

“You talkin’ shit for the hell of it.”

“Addicted to betrayal but you’re relevant.”

“You’re terrified to look down.”

“If you dare, you’ll see the glare of everyone you burned just to get there.”

“I keep my side of the street clean.”

“You wouldn’t know what I mean.”

“Karma’s a relaxing thought.”

“But for you, it’s not sweet like honey.”

“Flexing like a god damn acrobat.”

“Weave your little webs of opacity.”

“My pennies made your crowns.”

“Trick me once, trick me twice.”

“Did you know cash ain’t the only price?”

“Ask me what I learned from all those years.”

“Cause Karma is the thunder, rattling the ground.”

“Sweet like justice.”

Sweet Nothing

“Does it ever miss sometimes?”

“They said the end is coming.”

“Everyone is up to something.”

“All you ever wanted from me was sweet nothings”

“You say what a mind, it happens all the time.”

“The voices that implore, you should be doing more.”

“I can’t admit that I’m too soft for all of it.”

Mastermind

“Once upon a time, the planets and the fates aligned.”

“You and I ended up in the same room at the same time.”

“The touch of a hand lit the fuse.”

“A chain reaction of counter moves.”

“Checkmate: I couldn’t lose.”

“What if I told you none of it was accidental?”

“The first night that you saw me, nothing was gonna stop me.”

“I laid the groundwork and then, just like clockwork, the dominoes cascaded in a line.”

“What if I told you I’m a mastermind.”

“And now you’re mine.”

“It was all by design.”

“We were born to be the pawn in every lovers game.”

“If you fail to plan, you plan to fail.”

“What if I told you none of it was accidental, and the first night that you saw me, i knew I wanted your body?”

“It was all my design”

“No one wanted to play with me as a little kid.”

“I’ve been scheming like a criminal ever since.”

“To make them love me, and make it seem effortless.”

“This is the first time I felt the need to confess.”

“I swear I’m only cryptic and Machiavellian because I care.”

“Saw a wide smirk on your face- you knew the entire time?”

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