#the truth is that my desire to be turned inside out is empty & fruitless. it does not matter how many warning signs there are

[chthonicillness]

i think it’s unfair that i could be losing my whole entire mind feeling like all of my bones are going to crawl out of my skin and stack themselves up into a living skeleton which will run around rogue committing acts of unspeakable violence and yet when you look at me from the outside there is no visible difference from when i am, like, thinking about what the weather will be like tomorrow and whether i should bother shaving my legs. my mental state should be observable so people will know when to just give me a minute. maybe my eyes could change color, or there could be like one of those scrolling led signs across my forehead that says PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE i don’t know i’m just spitballing here

#the truth is that my desire to be turned inside out is empty & fruitless. it does not matter how many warning signs there are #people do not listen to me when i tell them the truth about how i feel and those same people would not pay any attention to a visual marker #i’ve convinced myself that people do not see my needs because i make them small and quiet because i have to believe that there is some way #to force people to acknowledge them. but the truth is that i made my needs small and quiet because people refused to see them #and now i’m stuck here because i will never be acknowledged until i become an inconvenience #but i cannot be an inconvenience without risking punishment #anyway. all of this is why i should be able to turn into like a pterodactyl or something #who is going to blame a pterodactyl for shrieking and eating people. dinner that’s who

[semischarmed]

Projection

Have I ever told you about how the astral plane works? So, here’s a little secret about me. I’ve been dabbling the past few years a little in lucid dreaming. Well, it turns out I have a knack for it, and it’s amazing, I can go around doing whatever I want. I climbed Mount Everest, flew through the skies, visited Paris. The possibilities are literally endless. And, me being me, I like to go around in these dreams trying different ways at possessing people.

Of course, since it’s still a dream at the end of the day, the experience is somewhat detached. As fucking hot as it is, flooding my dream self inside my hot neighbor, or phasing into that cute barista at the Starbucks down the street, I always wake up to a sense of disappointment. There’s only so much the brain can make up. I’m not particularly smart or imaginative either, so it honestly feels like half my energy is spent just trying to maintain that dream.

So that led me to try other means. Of course, the next logical step was astral projection. Unlike a dream, when you project, you yourself are experiencing the world- the real world. I wanted to try my hand at projecting into people.

I found a book online that detailed specific steps on how to achieve this. I think this was where the trouble began. In addition to being a great lucid dreamer, I was apparently an astral projection savant. The book mentioned it could take months before I could manifest my full body outside the physical plane, and years before I could untether and explore the world. It took me two days before I was able to leave my own body and jump inside people.

All things considered, astral projection is a bit of a dead end. I thought I’d be able to jump inside people, control them, live as them, fuck as them, the works. Well, the human body is resilient. It knows what soul belongs in it, so there’s not much to do inside someone, you can’t really influence what they do, and people seem to pick up on the odd sensation of someone else being in the room with them, so even when I do jump inside someone masturbating or fucking, half of them stop on the spot. Still, when you’re in someone who’s a little more fearless, you feel their body as them, and, let me just say, it’s hot being inside someone when they masturbate. It’s like feeling your own hand do the deed, but you feel it as them. You feel every muscle, every feeling, every thought. The hot ones kind of suck at it, but the afterglow is pure bliss.

This book gives one strange rule on projection though: Twins, especially identical ones, are unique. They hold a special bond. “Do not project into a twin.” Given this ominous warning and my curiosity, and given how much of an expert I already was at this whole projecting thing, I had no choice but to try.

———

The first time I projected into a twin, was magical. Of course, I knew immediately who I wanted to test this on. The hot twins who lived down the street who were especially close. They seemed to have different people over all the time so at the very least, they were active. I had my sights on one particular twin: Chase. Goddamn what a specimen.

I decided to go into a sleeping Chase as a trial run during one of my late nights. The twins apparently slept on the same bed, which was a bit weird but was perhaps a testament to to their closeness. I thought it was kind of cute. Like with all projection, the body resists the intrusion and I have to claw my way into him. Easy enough.

Chase’s twin Caleb immediately stirred with eyes closed in confusion- “Chase... are you there?” The slumbering Chase did not respond. Upon closer inspection, I caught sight of Caleb’s slumbering form talking to the spirit of Chase that he took inside himself. Oh shit does this mean what I think it means? Then I decided to move inside Chase’s body while his form followed my spirit’s commands. I knew it.

The first thing I did once I realized I had full control of Chase, of course, was to start playing with this new dick. In my excitement, I was immediately drawn back into my own form, awoken by my raging hard-on. Damn it! Fucking tease. I decided to finish beating it out, with Chase’s hot bod on my mind and a resolve from then on to get better at this projecting thing and stay longer inside him.

I made a fascinating discovery that day- a discovery that had probably prompted that ominous message in the first place. Twins are already naturally connected in spirit, so when you astral project into a twin, you can displace them and the owner’s spirit actually has a welcome place to go.

———

The second time I projected into a twin, I went into the wrong one. Equally unfortunate  was that they seemed to have just had a fight, sitting in and angry silence before going to their respective rooms. I really should have done more research as far as who lived where because the person’s back that I slammed into was none other than Caleb. Likewise, it was apparently possible for twins to resist the displacement. This one was a fighter. The first thing I try to do in his body is flow into each limb and untether him. This proved to be fruitless, as he was easily able to fend off my attacks, kicking me right out of his body. I wasn’t one to lose a challenge so I again attempted a different route this time, concentrating all of me into his mind- control the mind and the body follows. Failure again. My final route was perhaps the cruelest, I expanded and positioned my soul to encompass all of him and began an all out barrage for control of his bod. Back and forth, my spirit squeezed in and out into him from all sides until he could no longer defend himself.

Finally, his soul submitted and I felt an emptying motion, accompanied by a quick shout from the other room. “H-What the fuck!” Chase barged in, visibly shaking, hands on his head in a mix of pain and confusion. He looked at me intently with an emotion I could not attribute. In response I gave a quick smirk and flipped him off with his own body before stating “Caleb, you’re pretty cute too. You like this? This is mine now.” As I start doing poses with his body, the emotion of my temporary twin became clear. Desire.

I stripped shirtless and began doing push-ups with his body, easily clearing 70 before finally breaking a sweat. I stood up and raised my Caleb arms, imbuing the room with his scent. Caleb looked on from Chase’s body with silent intent.

I then used Caleb’s nose to sniff his own armpits, used his own tongue to lick it clean, used his own mouth to flash him a demented smile. “Caleb, you taste very good, just like your hot brother,” I stated “-cmon, join meeee Chase... let’s do something sacrilegious” I ended with a wink. Of course, my fucking body woke up again, just when it was getting good. In the process, Chase also fell unconscious, as the real Caleb returned to himself. As I felt the last of my spirit be pulled back, and the waking world return, I caught the troubling sight of Caleb, back inside his own body, furiously masturbating over the events that had transpired.

——-

The third time I projected into a twin, he fell into depravity with me. Truth be told, I was again making a beeline right for Chase because, come on, look this face. Just as I was about to claim that tight ass, I felt myself get dragged into Caleb. A-fucking-gain. This time felt different though- he was still in the body with me. That in itself wasn’t too odd, given our fight from last time, but even  stranger this time around was that his body was willing. It readily welcomed my soul. His form followed my spirit’s every move, yet I still felt his soul present, compliant. I decided to do what I meant to do in Chase and began masturbating. At the end of the day, they were twins after all, Caleb was still fucking hot to cum through, and I was not one to miss an opportunity.

“Well I think today’s little trip is gonna be a two-for one” I said with his voice as I finished. I then purged myself from Caleb’s physical form and headed straight for Chase until I felt a part of my current body pull me back. My spectral form attempted to claw myself back towards Chase, but Caleb’s pull had been too strong. He wasn’t letting me go. My spirit recoiled and slammed right back into his and I felt a part of myself stain Caleb. “I didn’t say you could leave,” he commanded, forcing me to watch as he began to rub our body with his warm seed. Hot. We both brought some of it up to our shared mouth, taking in all that we had just completed. “If you want, I’ll let you go so you can go inside that asshole Chase”, he states, “Make him dirty like me...or I’ll have to”. That last line definitely threw me off. Though I meant to to investigate further, I again felt the pull of the waking world from my own body. He moaned a quick “thank you” before passing out.

The return trip to myself equally odd. The human body naturally resists a little before accepting a spirit, even when it’s the owner of that body but somehow mine accepted me with no push back. Something was off.

Still, being inside these twins was fucking hot and I was not going to let a few unfounded fears stop me. I set plans for my return trip to them.

———

The fourth time I projected into a twin was also the most impactful. I once again aimed for Chase, but immediately ran into a confusing sight...

Standing before me was Chase, or rather, Chase’s body, unconscious in frozen discomfort. As far as his soul, however, I could see its form convulsing and contorting in pain. I then catch sight of the cause of that pain- Caleb’s spectral form was somehow deep inside Chase’s filling into him. It’s like watching an infection in real-time.

I stood, or rather hovered, in silence at the bizarre display I had witnessed. Evidently, that was a mistake, because before I aimed to leave this terrifying sight and head back, I notice Chase’s unconscious form raise its head, turn right at me and give me a toothy, wicked smile. “I can see you”. Chase’s body licks its lips. “You probably didn’t know this but independent little Chase over here has been planning on leaving for a while now. Said we should split. Move to a different cities. Live out our own.” Chase’s body opens it’s eyes and starts walking to Caleb’s slumbering form. He leans over and starts making out with the unconscious Caleb. “Oh Caleb” he moans “Don’t worry. I’m never gonna leave you” Chase’s lips gently pry open Caleb’s and he snakes his tongue inside. Parts of Caleb’s cheek puff up and back down as Chase’s tongue explores every crevice. He sucks a little before letting out a satisfied sigh “so...so that’s what I taste like,” he says breathlessly.

Chase then starts playing with himself right next to his twin’s sleeping form and I couldn’t help but get a bit aroused. “You always were the hotter twin” Chase says to himself as he continues tracing his own calloused hands all over. His attention moves to the unconscious Caleb, who he stops first to ponder for a moment before beginning to pump. He then positions Chase’s mouth over his original body to expertly deepthroat his own dick. This stirs the Caleb body to life, and he makes them both finish on each other off.

With both bodies, Caleb finishes licking himself clean. “Since it’s all me over here, this is technically just masturbating” he says confidently, as if to justify the disturbing sight I just witnessed. Caleb then positions Chase’s sweaty body behind his and has Chase wrap his sweaty biceps into an embrace from behind. “Like I said bro [moan], I’m never leaving you”. Two amused pairs of eyes then look directly at me. “You’re never leaving us either right? We have to thank you somehow for this,” they say, gesturing at their incestuous selves. I am immediately creeped out. After thinking for a few seconds, they chime in unison “Welcome to the family! We have a present for you”. With that, Caleb drops unconscious. That was signal enough for me, giving me shock I need to head straight back for my body.

Of course, by the time I get there, I instead see my own self, sitting naked, eyes rolled back and moaning as he maneuvers my hands all over. I see him continue to explore me, twisting my nipples, which, fuck that feels good, masturbating me, using my own body to maneuver in ways I never did before. With Caleb inside, my body moves with a confidence I never had. The experience is surreal. The sheer pleasure more or less stuns my soul on the spot. When my physical body finishes cumming, Caleb brings our hands to scoop it up and, oddly, it tasted different- slightly salty, slightly sweet, slightly Caleb. He sniffs our armpit and, again, the scent was rank, putrid, and nothing I’ve ever created. What was coming out of my body was undeniably Caleb.

“Mmmmmm... property of Caleb now” he says with my voice, as he rubs my Caleb-smelling sweat all over. Admittedly this was kind of hot. With an assured stride that I didn’t know my body could perform, Caleb opens my door, greeted by a Chase carrying his own unconscious twin. Caleb brings my body to his own and starts defiling himself. He turns his own body around and starts fucking it with my penis. Fuck that also feels good. With each pump, his own body starts to animate, ever so slightly. When he finally cums, my physical form falls unconscious and Caleb stirs awake. I take this as my chance to get back inside me. Success.. and god with Caleb smeared all over me, I smell disgustingly good.

“You’ll never leave me, right?” The body in front of me questioned. I’m a bit taken aback and try to stammer out a response “Uh...-“ before I could finish, Chase penetrates me from behind. “That would be a no” He whispers before giving my ear a playful bite. Why did he have to be so cute. This whole series of events was something straight out of my dreams. Despite this, my self preservation instincts kick into overdrive. Whatever this is, however good this feels, I need to get out. Fast.

As if he could read my mind, Caleb’s body smiles as he makes his twin use his rough fingers to gently grab my hair and pull me back. He leans Chase over to give me a deep, sensual kiss. “Oh well, Chase isn’t here anymore. Caleb took me, all of me. We’ve always had a deep connection... but he wanted more-I trusted him and he used that love to get inside me, pervert my soul... he’s in so deep inside me now that Caleb is all that’s left.” He wipes his sweaty face all over mine and continues making out. He then starts gyrating his hips, pushing more of himself inside my body as the Caleb body does the opposite and swallows more of my still-hardened rod with his ass. I feel the throbbing almost impossibly deep inside me from Chase’s dick as they proceed. “Thank you for this” they moan in unison.

They continue humping me from both sides, locking me in a paralyzed bliss. “We wanted to give you something special for keeping us close” they say. Then I felt it in my soul. Caleb. He pulls my spirit out and with his twin souls begin to fuck me in the astral plane. The feeling is indescribable. Nirvana. Bliss. Ecstasy. Enveloped by and merged to Caleb and Chase’s spectral forms, completion. This could be me. This could be us forever.

Then reality snaps back and I am floating alone. I finally regain my composure I try to head back to my unconscious, smiling body. No dice. “Occupied” it says with a chuckle. I head for Chase’s instead, “mmmm getting close” it moans. My body grins wider and motions to the unconscious Caleb. He spits with both bodies at his own motionless form. “Go ahead, take you new place, Caleb”. With no other option, I fill into the empty Caleb shell.

Chase and my body then start fucking each other. Hard. Messy. He’s doing more things with my body that I didn’t even know was possible, and as the original owner of my body, and the current inhabitant of Caleb’s, I feel both motions amplified. Im sure he feels the same.

As Chase, he turns my body around, and again rams his thick dick inside. My body involuntarily gasps, which causes me to gasp inside of Caleb. He forces a wicked, dirty smile out of my body’s face as he plunges ever deeper. He slips Chase’s sweaty abs onto my body’s back, wraps tone, sweaty Chase biceps over mine into an armlock from behind and takes plump Chase lips into a quick peck on my body’s cheek. My body then sags unconscious. Despite the sight, the smell throughout the sweaty combination was undeniably just Caleb’s.

Chase’s eyes flutter and his body trembles as Caleb repossessed his twin’s body with the extra soul he stuffed mine with. With double the soul inside, Chase exudes double the vitality and in that sweaty embrace, Caleb again gyrated his twin’s body into mine as he fills it with double the seed- double the soul. “T-thank you for the house warming present. I’ll take real good care of you-you’ll take real good care of us” he moans, as Chase’s body now goes unconscious as well. Dread fills me.

Aside from the odd cases with twins, human bodies know who their masters are. The act of imbuing a soul into a different body is, in and of itself, unnatural. So it was at this point that my empty body starts involuntarily writhing, trying to escape. I see tears well in my closed eyes, still unconscious from effort. Of course, as Caleb, I motion to protect myself from whatever was going to occur next and set to pull my unconscious form off the Chase embrace. Before I could pull my body out of the entrapment, it shoots awake, face swinging upward to face me. Bright white eyes shoot open. Behind my skin I see a force pushing deep inside, stretching it unnaturally. The visage of Chase appears, beneath my flesh, wearing my face like a mask. Though it’s Chase’s spirit he melds, the smile growing is undeniably Caleb. When it all settles, eyes roll back into place. Instead of my normal eyes, Chase’s pale blue orbs appear in their place. The crooked smile grows to a laugh on my body, teeth looking odd, until I realize it was Chase’s own molars poking through my own mouth. He takes shallow breaths and smears more sweat around himself, and though I can’t place if it was my own body’s sweat or Chase’s, the smell emanating is fully Caleb. Bones crack, skin shivers and stretch and contract and construct and I feel, from my own soul, a massive wave of nausea.

If astral projection into another is, in itself, an unnatural act, astral displacement, astral merging was another layer of corruption entirely, it was unholy. He was changing something in me, fundamentally. Wave after wave of Chase’s flesh bleed into my body from Caleb’s onslaught. My nausea shifts into a unique pain, a pain of the soul, originating from where he stuffed my physical form full of Chase’s seed-Caleb’s seed, mixing and amalgamating us into a wholly new being. Musculature appears in place of the frame of my body’s previous shape as more and more of it is twisted and contorted. Then, perhaps in one last push of defiance, my body screams involuntarily, and I, in Caleb, scream.

“So you’ll never leave me, like he planned to” Caleb says, with a mix of my voice and his, as he rams the last, massive part of himself into my body. My physical form’s face contorts in discomfort one last time before Caleb settles it into satisfaction. “Look at us” he states as he runs vascular new hands over my body’s new face and then uses that new face to give me a seductive wink. “We’re cute as a button”. The transformation was complete- my old self no longer recognizable in the new brother he had created.

The change, of course, had hit my soul as well. From inside Caleb I screamed...convulsed...shook... moaned... you know, the works. When that last bit of Caleb dug inside my spirit and changed me, I truly felt him, felt my twin, felt his love. I’ll be a better Chase for him than Chase ever was. Our souls are bonded for life. I am a part of Caleb now, and he is a part of me. Everyone experiences it differently, but we’re all grateful after to have Caleb inside us, to be a part of something greater. I like to think I have the extra privilege of being his twin, new and improved, wearing his old body’s skin while he wears and controls mine. And sometimes, with his permission, I get to play around inside the others. Sometimes we switch and he lets me jump inside Chase, like I’m doing now. The only body off limits is my old one. I like to think that makes me special, it’s the only body Caleb keeps his soul in 100 percent of the time. It’s proof of our special connection. And he wears the new me so well, better than I ever could anyways.

And, well, that takes us to today doesn’t it? Why even tell you all of this? Caleb likes you. I like you. We like you. And we think it’s time to expand the family again. You got some good traits to work with- we’ll get a lot use out of that bod, after a few adjustments. You’re probably feeling a little sleepy now. Sorry, guilty, that was me. Oh this thick Chase dick you feel inching deeper inside your ass? Yep, obviously also me. But, cmon future bro, dig deeper, listen with your body. What else are you feeling? Do you feel our love, throbbing in you? Do you something else, leaking inside? Do you feel these calloused Chase hands pulling you ever deeper into us? Do you feel him? Do you feel Caleb already worming himself into you? Good. Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of you. You’re gonna love us. We’re gonna be fucking hot together after we’re done with you. Welcome Home.

—End —

Wanted to explore something a little different with this one. Hope y'all like it!

#male possession #twin possession #male body swap

[nsfw-bnha-and-dangan]

Commission

Heres a commission everyone! Its sort of a continuation/insert to the Gonta/reader/Hoshi mafia series! basically, it takes place during the second kidnapping!! Under the cut for length! (also I'm going to revamp my commission page soon, make look a little nicer mostly!)

Shuichi Saihara had a bad habit of looking into things he shouldn't have. It was part of his job, check every lead, overturn every stone to find the truth. So, after a very unusual run-in with Hoshi, the smaller man calling and asking Saihara to drive him home, along with Gonta and (Y/N), he decided to start looking for answers. The three of them looked horribly beat up, covered in bandages and the like, and Hoshi gave him only the briefest of explanations when asked, clearly hiding something. Saihara wasn't too surprised at that, the man could be quite private and no amount of prodding was going to get him to open up. So he dropped the trio off, wishing them luck as they healed and letting them know that they could call him for anything they needed.

Once they had made it inside Saihara drove away, his mind swimming with possibilities for what could have happened. A car accident would make sense, between their injuries and lack of transportation, but why would they be so sheltered about it? Any other ideas he had grew darker and darker as he drove home, unable to shake the questions he had. And, rather than bother the three of you about it, he decided to open his own investigation. No paperwork, no one else brought in to help, just him and his talent, searching endlessly for answers. He gave you rides a few more times until you all got another car, asking seemingly unimportant questions when he could, hoping to get more information. But, the deeper he dug, the worse things got. Once, someone had slammed a door while he was around you, making even Gonta jump and go pale.

He tracked people down, investing more time than was healthy into this. And then, things came to a screeching halt. You were missing. Well, missing may not have been the best term, because for all he knew the three of you might have gone on vacation or something. But it had been three days and he hadn't heard from anyone. Rather than call the police, as he should have, he went to your house, which was a mess. Drag marks left dents in the carpet, a swipe of blood on one wall, doors left open, all signs of foul play. All the evidence he needed to worry. Whatever had happened before seemed to have happened again, the three of you taken who knows where, likely being tortured just as you had before. And Saihara, as both a detective and a friend, couldn't just let that slip by him. He put in a call to a friend, another detective with more experience in gang and mafia activity, asked a few questions that had her probing for information, before making a guess at what happened. He knew of Hoshi’s past, had helped out with his record at one point, knew he had been in a less than desirable position with the local mafia. And, if he was right, this was them getting revenge for what he had done, a second time.

But guessing got him nowhere, an educated assumption wasn't going to locate the three of you. So he got to work, trolling the streets for information, meeting contacts in dark alleys, pen in hand. It was a week or two before he got a solid lead, meeting with a new contact who promised him good information on a location that had been rumored to harbor mafia activity. Saihara was the first to arrive in the dimly lit side street, sitting at a grimy table with a coffee in hand, the only thing keeping him awake at this point. He waited for ten minutes, nearly dozing off a few times till a figure, shrouded in the darkness, sat at the table.

“Saihara?”

“Detective Saihara, yes.”

“Wrong answer.” Saihara didn't have time to react as his throat was squeezed by the thick fingers of a man he couldn't identify.

“You’ve been sniffing in the wrong places, asshole. Shouldn't run around like a child asking about things you aren't a part of. But guess what cupcake? You just bought yourself a one-way ticket to all the answers you could ever want. Too bad you won't live long enough to do anything with them.” Saihara struggled, trying to move his arms, his legs, anything he could do to loosen the grip around his neck. But it was fruitless, the man was stronger than him, pressing on his airway til his vision went spotty. Everything went black as his body slumped onto the table, coffee falling to the ground and spilling on the dirty cement. He woke up under harsh lights, his every joint aching as he tried to sit up. Underneath him was hard flooring, covered in a number of stains that he didn't want to think about. Saihara blinked a few times, swallowing roughly and hacking at the roughness in his throat.

“So he wakes, huh? Bout damn time, Detective, we thought our guy might have killed you by accident, and where would be the fun in that?” Saihara just coughed again, rubbing his neck and sitting up to take a look around.

“Where…”

“The land of your dreams, bitch. You wanted to find this place so damn bad, we brought it to you! Of course, every gift has a price tag on it, this one just happens to be a little steep.” Saihara coughed again, his breathing heavy.

“And what would be?” He muttered, desperately trying to keep calm and fight off the overwhelming anxiety he was feeling.

“Your life.” From somewhere behind him Saihara sensed movement, having no time to dodge before his head was slammed to the floor, hard enough to knock him out. When he awoke next it was in another room, just as bright, but slightly less empty. With foggy vision Saihara started looking around, his movements sluggish as he took in his surroundings. It was a small room with an adjoining bathroom, dirty but not as bad as it could have been, a mattress in the center of one wall and little to nothing else around. What really through Saihara for a loop, though, was who was on that mattress. It was you and Gonta, dozing in each other's arms despite sitting at the edge of the bed as if waiting for him to wake up. More investigation found a wrapped up shirt under where his head had been, keeping him at least marginally comfortable till he woke up.

“Gonta, Gonta look!” You said loudly, enough to make Saihara wince at the pounding headache he hadn't realized he had.

“Huh? Oh! Saihara is awake! Gonta was worried he wouldn't wake up…” Saihara just nodded quietly, managing to stand up with a groan, wobbly on his feet.

“Whoa, sit, you got hit pretty hard, you aren't in good shape to be walking right now.” You held out a hand and Saihara gratefully took it, sitting on the mattress awkwardly, unsure of what to say or where to start. Luckily, Gonta broke the silence quickly.

“How is Saihara here? Gonta and (Y/N) thought they were the only ones the mean men cared about, besides Hoshi.”

“I… started looking for you. You disappeared and after that time I dropped you off from the hospital, I was worried. My leads led me to the mafia and I was supposed to meet a contact, who turned out to be a lot less helpful than I'd hoped. He knocked me out and brought me here, that's really all I can remember. I'm… sorry if this has made things worse for you, in any way.” You shook your head, offering a weak smile to your friend.

“Don't worry about us, we’re… used to this, I guess. That's kind of sad, honestly.” Gonta nodded, digging in a bag for something.

“Here, Saihara should eat something, Gonta and (Y/N) have plenty.” Saihara took the chip bag gingerly, holding it as if it were unstable.

“Sorry, it's pretty much all they give us, but at least they feed us.” Saihara smiled in thanks and slowly worked his way through the bag, finding he was far hungrier than he thought.

“Are you both okay? It's been a few weeks since we’ve seen you at all.” You nodded, running a hand through your messy hair.

“We’re alive. And that's all we can really hope for. They have Ryoma, we think he's being forced to do their bidding but we think he's alive still. Most of the time, nothing happens here. They give us food and every now and then talk to us, but that's it. They can watch us through that,” You motioned toward a camera in a corner, pointed at the mattress directly.

“So they don't bother to check on us, they can see everything. Right, assholes?!” You shouted at the camera, throwing a prepackaged snack at it and missing, a sigh heaving through you.

“Has it really been so long? Gonta didn't realize he and (Y/N) had been here that many weeks.” Saihara nodded, rubbing the bump on his forehead from where he had been knocked out.

“I should have called the police, I should have started a real investigation. I'm not a good detective, especially since I ended up making things worse.” You shook your head quickly, a hand on Saihara’s shoulder.

“No, you tried to help us. These people… these assholes have a lot more power than we thought.” Saihara just nodded, closing his eyes for a moment. He wasn't able to relax, though, jumping when a metallic creaking echoed through the room. Immediately, Gonta moved you and Saihara behind him, arms raised protectively.

“Awww how sweet, big scary animal is trying to protect you guys, isn't that cute?” The color drained from your face at an all too familiar voice, one you had hoped to never hear again if you could avoid it. It was the leader, still nameless to you, two men behind him watching with eagle eyes. You didn't dare attempt anything, though, you knew the consequences well enough.

“You, girlie, need to mind your fucking temper. Don't go trying to break our camera, those things aren't cheap!” He grabbed your chin, fingers digging into your flesh and forcing you to look at him.

“You remember what happens when you act up, right? Go on, fucking say it, bitch.”

“Someone gets hurt.” You muttered, using all your self-control to keep from spitting in the man's face, his scent making you feel sick.

“That's right. And now, we have another plaything to hit if we want to. We might need the two of you alive, but that goddamn snoop isn't important. We can kill him anytime we want to, so you better behave. And you better hope that your midget boyfriend does too. Wouldn't want to have to cut up that pretty face, would we?” The man smirked at Saihara, who kept his face void of emotion, hiding his fear despite the shivering.

“Enjoy this time with your friend, kitties, because he caught me in a good mood. I should have just killed him, made an example out of him, but instead, I've given you a second life! At least, for the moment. I don't like to make promises I can't keep.” Finally, he pulled back, letting you breathe for a moment. If there was one thing you were grateful for, it was that things never got more intimate than that, but that still left you with plenty to worry about. The door slammed shut and a collective sigh of relief echoed through the room, Gonta letting his arms fall to his side. You immediately wiped your face with your shirt, feeling disgusting from having those filthy fingers on you.

“Are you okay?” You nodded, letting yourself fall onto your back on the mattress.

“I'm fine, just… yeah.” Saihara nodded in understanding, unable to put a word to his current emotions. There was fear, sure, enough to make his bones shake under his skin. But more than that, there was despair. A feeling of hopelessness, like this was it, he wasn't going to get out. Maybe it was a premonition, maybe it was overthinking, but regardless, he couldn't shake it from his mind.

“Does Saihara want to lay down? He doesn't need to sit like that, Gonta and (Y/N) don't mind sharing.” Awkwardly, Saihara laid down as well, staring at the ceiling and letting his mind wander. It was all he could do, stare at the white sheetrock, covered in stains, and let himself drift til finally, his broken body gave in to sleep. You sat up after he fell asleep, smiling sadly. Gonta looked at you with worry in his eyes, a hand on yours.

“Is (Y/N) okay?” You nodded before laying back down, kicking the threadbare blanket over the three of you.

“Just worried. For Saihara, I don't think… I'm worried about what they’ll do to him.” Gonta threaded your fingers with yours, letting you squeeze tightly.

“Gonta will protect him and (Y/N), no matter what. A gentleman wouldn't let a friend get hurt.”

“I know.” You said softly, letting Gonta hold you close and sighing. Your hand didn't leave his, though, anchoring you as you slowly managed to drift off, all the excitement exhausting. Saihara was the first to wake up, hours later, gently slipping out of bed to use the bathroom and standing in the doorway when he returned. You and Gonta had curled up together, Gonta protectively wrapped around you with your hands clasped together closely. For only a moment, he smiled, because in any other situation it would be sweet, romantic even. But in here… It was an instinct, survival, a way to keep each other safe and sane. Saihara paced the room restlessly, keeping his shoes off in hopes of not making any sound, but before long you were sitting up.

“Saihara… what's wrong?” You asked, voice gravelly with sleep, your movement stirring Gonta.

“Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“You were muttering, but it's fine, we never sleep long anyway. What about you, though? Are you alright?” Saihara just nodded, forcing a pained smile and slowing down, not wanting to worry the two of you. He kept replaying it all in his mind, every word he had heard, every inflection of tone. He did this when he was anxious, worked himself into a frenzy, looking for a missing piece, a solution, an answer.

“Just restless is all.” You nodded in understanding, remembering how it had been when you and Gonta had first been taken.

“You get used to it, after a while. You’ll try not to, you’ll try to act like shit isn't as bad as it is, like everything is fine, but it's not. Nothing is fine here. Just… let us help, okay?” Saihara offered a thankful nod and finally sat down, Gonta pulling out more food, letting you pick first. He offered the options to Saihara next, letting him choose before taking the last one for himself.

“Wait, Gonta, you don't like those, switch with me.” You muttered, nudging your breakfast toward him gently.

“Gonta doesn't mind, he knows (Y/N) doesn't like this one either, so he’ll eat it.” You tried again to get him to switch, feeling bad that he was taking the worst choice for himself, but Gonta was determined, holding his ground till you gave in and started eating your own food. And slowly, Saihara settled into the routine, or lack of. With three people there were more options for conversation, but little more, much of the time spent in silence or napping, all you really could do. Saihara was the easiest to wake up, startling at even the slightest noise when you or Gonta wouldn't pick up on it. He spent those moments in deathly quiet, sat up in the bed while you and Gonta slept. The two of you always were close together, even on the occasional night that Gonta chose to sleep on the floor, feeling guilty for taking up much of the bed.

Tonight had been one of those nights, Gonta insisting he lay on the floor, using a variety of things to cushion the hard ground. But, Saihara noticed, your hand was hanging off the mattress, nearly linked with Gonta’s, the two of you had fallen asleep holding hands. Saihara swallowed thickly, trying to push down the growing fear that was rising in his throat. Things had been so… calm, as of late. No unexpected visits from anyone, no violence, nothing. And much as Saihara wanted to deny it, he had gotten used to this life of captivity. But, just as he had expected, things didn't stay calm for long. One night (or day, he couldn't tell anymore) there was a loud banging on the thick metal door that blocked the three of you from the outside world. It seemed more like a courtesy knock than anything, as the door slammed open quickly and a stream of men followed. At the front of it, of course, was the leader, smirking at your confusion as all three of you shot up in bed.

“Rise and shine, birdies, time to get the fucking worm! Well, I suppose you're the worms, what with the garbage you like to hang around.” You rubbed your bleary eyes and scowled, crossing your arms and glaring wordlessly.

“No smiles for the big boss today? Well, it doesn't matter, I'll be done with you three soon. Up, now, and don't fuckin’ try anything.” No one moved, the sort of quiet defiance that you exercised whenever you could.

“Really? Going to play this fucking game with me? I am <i>not</i> in the fucking mood for this. Get the fuck up so we can pick one of you to go on a trip.” Immediately Gonta moved, going across the bed in front of you and Saihara, arms out to the side and shielding you from the men's gazes.

“Gonta won't let you take anyone! He won't let (Y/N) or Saihara get hurt!” The leader rolled his eyes, tipping his head at two menacing looking followers.

“Really, jolly green giant? Come on, we’ve done this goddamn dance a hundred times now, your gentleman shit is getting really <i>fucking</i> old. Take him, boys, don't worry about being gentle.” You quickly grabbed Gonta’s arm, trying to pull him away from the other men, but it was fruitless. Someone's face moved far too close to your own, rank breath slipping between his missing teeth and nearly making you gag.

“Girly, I wouldn't try that shit if I were you. We’ve been very fucking nice with you and your boy toy, plus that fucking string bean detective. Play nice, or we won't.” He hissed, threatening enough to make you let go of Gonta’s arm. Immediately he was hauled up by the others, despite his struggling.

“Do what you have to to get him under control.” The leader sing-songed, barely audible over your screams.

“Let him go! Take me dammit! Fucking take me! Asshole, let Gonta go! Now!” You cried, fighting the tears that burned in your eyes. Never before had they separated you like this, every minute of this hell had been shared with Gonta, making it at least slightly more bearable. Now, though, Gonta was being dragged away, Saihara grabbing your hand before you could try to follow, just looking at you quietly with his wide eyes, pupils dilated with fear.

“Don't.” He muttered, keeping you still. You stopped struggling after a moment, knowing Saihara was right, although that didn't keep you from screaming. Gonta was no better, trying to pull out of the men's arms and run.

“Dammit, why is he fucking like this!?” One of the men yelled, the other landing a sharp punch to Gonta’s temple that left him dazed. It was enough to haul Gonta out of the room without much issue, leaving you and Saihara alone with the leader.

“See you soon, kiddies. Or, well, maybe not quite so soon, who knows.” The resounding noise of the heavy door closing rung in your ears as you fought to breathe, a panic attack welling up in your chest.

“Breath, breath (Y/N), please!” Saihara tried to hold your hand but you were shaking, getting up to pace by the door.

“They took him…” You muttered, breathing hard as you walked circles into the concrete floor. Saihara gave you a moment, unsure of what to do, before taking you by the arm and bringing you to the bed. You finally started to calm down when his trembling hand rubbed your back, lulling you slightly.

“What are they going to do to Gonta?” You asked quietly, choking on a sob.

“I don't know, but don't think too much about it, okay?” Saihara said quietly, his voice as uneven as your own.

“W-what if… what if they…” You broke into sobs despite your efforts to keep from crying, your entire body heaving with the force of it. Saihara awkwardly held you, doing his best to make you feel better as he tried to come down from his own anxiety. If they had taken Gonta, were you next? Or him? And where was he being taken to? Surely not outside, likely to some other room in the warehouse building, another one just as filthy and empty. But what was the reason for it? Just to torture you mentally? To keep you in line? All Saihara had were questions and the blank walls fielded no answers as you cried yourself into exhaustion, eventually falling asleep in his arms so that he could gingerly lay you down. But Saihara didn't sleep beside you, sitting up and watching the door vigilantly, knowing that this was his fault. Had he not gone digging around, you and Gonta might not have been pulled apart, you might have been much better off at this moment.

But it didn't matter, not a hissing sound caught his attention and a gas, odorless and colorless, filled his lungs, knocking the detective out before he could even register the disturbance. You woke up alone, hours later, the bed empty and cold on both sides of you. The realization was jarring, sending you sitting up in a panic before a blinding headache hit you. It was a pain you had felt before, when you had been taken from your home, and slowly the gears of your mind clicked into place, giving you enough insight to know what happened. However, that didn't stop you from panicking, getting up and grabbing a balled up wrapper, throwing it at the camera mounted in the corner.

“Asshole! Where the fuck are they! Tell me, now, before I fucking break down this door!” You screamed, going on and on until your voice was hoarse. And yet, still no reply. Nothing but silence and your own heartbeat reverberating off of the walls.

In another room, closer than you would have thought, Gonta was on the floor with his arms tied behind his back, sitting up and staring at the man in the nearby chair, who functioned as a guard. In another chair was Saihara, slumped forward with his arms tied behind the chair, still unconscious. After what felt like ages, a door opened, the man Gonta recognized as the leader striding in.

“He's still out? Damn, he's even weaker than I thought, fuck. This isn't even going to be fun at this point.” The man sighed, grabbing the front of Gonta’s shirt and tugging him up to his feet.

“You fucked up, asshole. If you hadn't tried to be so damn chivalrous, we wouldn't have to punish you. But, well, I can't say I'm going to mind that too much. You’re so weak-willed, it’ll be fun to see if this finally breaks you. You and that asshole boyfriend of yours. I want to see tears, got it?” The man left without another word, kicking Saihara’s chair and laughing. Gonta was only more confused by the mention of Hoshi, part of him wondering if perhaps he was going to get to see him. But that, as much as he wanted to see the smaller man, Hoshi being here never meant anything good. Yet, he was left with more questions than answers, just as you were left with dead silence in your own room. It seemed like years, all on your own in there, the only thing keeping you company being your own thoughts and the memory of Gonta being taken away. You had no clue what they were going to do with him or Saihara, memories of torture and pain flooding your mind.

You knew they had no souls, the men keeping you here, and they wouldn't have any qualms pushing Gonta to the brink of death, or even over it. You paced until your feet hurt, finally sitting in bed and breathing shallowly. You had no clue what to do, no amount of yelling or screaming was going to change the fact that you were alone. And so, despite your best efforts, you cried. It was all you could do at that point, curling up and shaking till you were too exhausted to even sniffle. Your eyes were heavy and aching, closing unintentionally. You had nearly fallen asleep when the loud banging of fists against steel, making you shoot up. Even though your blurry vision you knew what was happening, just letting yourself be picked up and dragged off without much struggle. You didn't have the energy to care or fight the men, just going along with whatever they wanted. Finally, you were dropped in a room, shoved to the floor unceremoniously and groaning at the pain. You blinked a few times, your eyes going wide when you saw Saihara and Gonta, both tied up and bit worse for wear.

“(Y/N)! Gonta is so glad (Y/N) is safe!!” Gonta smiled tiredly at you, Saihara weakly nodding along.

“You too, Gonta, I was so worried about you guys…”

“Better keep worrying, babycakes. Cause shits only about to get worse.” You winced at the sound of the leader's voice in your ears, the fine hairs on the back of your neck standing up.

“I fucking hate you.” You muttered, sitting up slowly and letting your arms be tied back, knowing fighting would only make things worse.

“Hate me all you want, not gonna change a single fucking thing. But hey, at least you’ll get to see your boy-toy today, since I'm so nice.” You perked up a little at the mention of Hoshi, cautiously optimistic about what was going to happen here.

“Where’s Ryoma?”

“Don't get your panties in a knot, bug boy. He's on his way now, but I'd be careful what you wish for.” The room went quiet as you waited, obsessing over every little noise, hoping it was Hoshi. Finally, the door opened, Hoshi accompanied by another man.

“What the fuck?! You told me-”

“What do you take me for, an honest man? Fucking hilarious.” You breathed a sigh of relief when Hoshi seemed unharmed, albeit exhausted.

“(Y/N), Gonta, are you alright? And what is Saihara doing here?” You tried to smile, hoping it would soothe Hoshi’s worries.

“We’re okay, I promise. Saihara was trying to help us after we were kidnapped, but they got him too…”

“Gonta made sure (Y/N) was kept safe, he tried to protect her.” Hoshi nodded and ruffled Gonta’s hair gently before shooting a glare at the leader, trying to keep his anger contained.

“Oh, little kitty looks fuckin’ pissed, did we do something wrong?” The leader teased, smirking as Hoshi dug his nails into his palm.

“Fuck you, untie them. Now!”

“Do you need a reminder of who’s in charge here? Cause me and the boys would be happy for a demonstration.” Hoshi shook his head, sucking air in between his teeth.

“Good boy. Don't let that shit happen again. Now, it's time for a little game!” You and Gonta each stiffened at the sound of that, Saihara still too out of it to realize what was happening.

“The fuck are you trying to do here?”

“It's fucking simple, but I guess your midget body comes with a tiny fucking brain. You have two choices, you pick one, you go through with it, everyone wins. Well, not everyone, but we do! And that's what matters, right?” You scooted closer to Gonta, hoping it would ease your tension a little.

“What do I have to choose, then?”

“Kill that nosy fucking detective, or watch those two get fucked up even worse than they are now. I know, I know, that's quite the fucking decision to make! I'll give you sixty seconds to figure out just how selfish you are, better choose wisely.” The man started counting down, each number sung out with far more joy than you could comprehend.

“Don't do it, Ryoma, we’ll be fine! You don't have to do it, Gonta and I will be okay!” You looked at Saihara and bit your lip. You could take another beating, sure, but you had no clue what the men were planning to do with you and Gonta, not to mention what they could do with Hoshi.

“Gonta doesn't want Saihara to be killed, Gonta would rather get hurt instead!” Hoshi kept staring at the floor, his expression never changing no matter how much you called out to him.

“Ryoma! Please!”

“If you aren't sure, let me remind you that we don't have to keep both your little treasures alive, we only really need one to keep you in check.” The man resumed counting, the numbers getting lower and lower as Ryoma clenched his fists.

“Five. Four. Three.” He started drawing out the words, grinning.

“Two.”

“Fine! Fucking fine goddammit!! I'll do it, I'll do whatever you fucking want, just don't hurt them!”

“Music to my ears, took you long enough, I almost thought I'd have to decide for myself!” Your eyes burned with tears that you couldn't hold back, Saihara finally gaining enough strength to struggle and cry out.

“No! Ryoma you don't have to do this, you can-”

“Will someone please shut that bitch up? I'm getting really fucking tired of her voice. Day in and day out, ‘<i>let us go</i>’ and <i>‘fuck you’</i> and oh, my personal favorite. ‘<i>You’ll fucking pay for this’</i>.” He raised his voice to mimic yours, making you seeth enough to try and get to your feet. Your attempt was shut down quickly as a dirty rag was shoved in your mouth, keeping you quiet. Gonta couldn't seem to find his voice, watching in horror as Hoshi was handed a gun.

“Nice and clean, got it? I mean, feel free to make it last if you want, have a little fun, but don't try anything cute. Those two will pay if you do.” Hoshi took the gun and gripped it with white knuckles, his hand shaking. He kept his vision trained on the ground, refusing to make eye contact with anyone.

“No… please…” Saihara groaned, his head weighing heavy as he tried to look up at Hoshi.

“Sorry,” Hoshi muttered, raising the gun slowly. He held it blindly near Saihara’s head, his heart beating out of his chest. He didn't want to do this, didn't want to kill anyone, didn't want anyone to get hurt, especially not Saihara. But if he didn't do this, if he didn't pull the trigger, you would get hurt. The men would use you like a punching bag, and Gonta too, there was no telling what kind of state you would be left in after. He was doing this to save the two of you, that was all. He was doing this for the people he loved, even if it would mean he hated himself forever. Hoshi could barely hear himself think over all the noise in the room and his own labored breathing, finger grazing the trigger and twitching against it. It was as if time slowed down, his body tense with anticipation as he tried to pull the trigger. But his finger shook against the chilled metal, unable to pull inward.

“R-Ryoma…” Gonta cried softly, watching with wide, wet eyes. And before he could stop himself, Hoshi let the gun drop from his trembling hands. It made a loud noise when it hit the cement floor, luckily remaining unfired, and it was like the world stopped for a moment. Despite himself, Hoshi’s eyes burned with tears that he bit his lip to keep contained, breathing softly.

“Fuckin’... wow. Just wow, that's all I have to say to you. You fucking shithead!” A nasty punch to the side of the head nearly knocked Hoshi over, barely catching his balance.

“You are just the same fucking brat I've been trying to teach a lesson to all this goddamn time! Here id thought you had fucking learned!” The leader punctuated his sentence with a kick to Hoshi’s shin, sending him to the ground so he could press a boot to his chest.

“I should fucking kill all three of them right in front of you, right now. I should cut up that pretty girl, then move onto to the baby detective, I'd do the giant last, make him suffer. That's exactly what I should fucking do, but I won't. In fact, I'm feeling very, very generous today.” The man took his foot off of Hoshi, smirking a little as he sat up.

“I won't touch their faces, this time. But I'll make sure I leave a few pretty little marks elsewhere.” Hoshi could barely watch as you and Gonta were yanked to your feet and surrounded by the leader's lackeys, holding you in place with a few well-placed blows.

“Where to start… How about here?” You screamed as a knife was dragged from your shoulder down your arm, leaving a six-inch slice that bled immediately. You sobbed at the pain, Hoshi yelling for them to stop, to hurt him instead. But no one listened, starting in on beating you up while a similar cut was made on Gonta’s back, diagonal and deep.

“Stop fucking hurting them! Let them go!” Hoshi tried to fight, finally getting the man to pause what he was doing.

“Had enough? I guess I could stop, for now, give them a minute to breathe. I gotta finish what I started though, wouldn't be a man of my word if I didn't, right?” He scooped up the gun from the floor, tossing it between his hands recklessly before pointing at Saihara’s head.

“P-please… don't… I w-won't-” He was cut off with the echoing noise of a gunshot, eyes frozen wide with fear as the life left his body immediately. You screamed through the rag in your mouth, blinking away the tears that you weren't able to wipe. Gonta was sobbing, Hoshi digging his nails roughly into his palms as he stared at the ground.

“It's really no fun when they die so fast, you know? Fuckin’ boring is what it is, but whatever, can't be helped. You, take our favorite little murderer and get rid of him, I'll figure out our next plan for him later. Put the noisy girl in her room, I'll deal with this one.” He nodded his head at Gonta, who looked all the more terrified. You fought as you were pulled to your feet and dragged out of the room, your protests and profanities lost to your gag. You were finally pulled entirely off the ground so that you wouldn't drag your feet, tossed into your room with a roll of bandages to patch yourself up. You could barely find the strength to move to the bed, breathing hard with the effort as you bandaged yourself as best you could. And, once again, you were left alone, haunted by the images in your mind.

Saihara was dead, all because he had tried to save you all, because he wanted to help. You had no clue what was happening to Gonta back in that room, or what state Hoshi was in either. You didn't want to let yourself hope, knowing that would only make it hurt more when things took a turn for the worst. Your arm stung like hell as you laid down, pulling the threadbare blanket over yourself. You didn't sleep, just watching the door with burning eyes, hoping someone would come through it. Hoshi had been none too gently escorted outside, a kick to the back of the knees sending him to the dirt.

“Fuck you! Let me in, goddammit! Let me the fuck in!” Hoshi banged on the door till his fists were bruised, finally sinking to the ground in anguish. He felt like he couldn't breathe, staring at his hands. He had killed so many with these hands, but this time… this time he had killed someone he cared about. Someone who had never done anything wrong, just wanted to help people. And to make it all worse, you and Gonta had seen it all.

Up till now, the two of you hadn't had to see him like that, had only heard the stories. And Hoshi wasn't sure he could face either of you again, in or out of the warehouse. Couldn't see the way your view of him would change, the inevitable fear and disgust in your eyes. He would get the two of you out of there, then leave, giving the two of you the best chance possible to lead better lives. That was the best thing to do, right? Finally, Hoshi got up, heading towards his car and finally sitting down, letting himself slightly relax. At least out here, in this car, he wouldn't be hurting anyone. Back in the other room, Gonta was cowering on the floor, not bothering to keep a brave face on.

“Now, what to do with you. See, we weren't planning to keep you here any longer than we had to, what with all the cleaning up I need to do. But you just <i>had</i> to fight again, had to be a stupid fucking gentleman, or whatever. Now, normally I just like to use brute force for this shit, keep it simple, have some fun. But I think it would be nice to see you squirm, and make that asshole feel just about as bad as possible. Read this, don't try and say anything else, no fucking funny shit. There may just be one of me in here right now, but I will knock your ass to the ground. Now, be a good little boy, and start talking when he picks up the phone.”

Gonta’s shaky hand took the paper that was handed to him, doing his very best to avoid looking in Saihara’s direction, unable to deal with the reality of the limp body in the chair. His ropes were cut and a phone was handed to him, still ringing, Gonta holding it to his ear and waiting.

“What the fuck now?” Gonta took a shaky breath and looked to the paper, glancing up to see a gun leisurely pointed in his direction.

“Y… you’re a horrible person, Ryoma. You killed so many people, and you don't even care.” Gonta tried to collect himself for a moment, only to have the gun shaken towards him. Over the phone, Hoshi tried to say something, but Gonta interrupted him.

“You killed our friend, Ryoma. You k-killed him. How could you do that? You don't care about u-us, me or (Y/N). You just want to keep yourself safe. We thought you loved us, Ryoma, we thought you cared. W-why are you so disgusting? Why are you such a bad person? Why did you kill our friend?” Gonta’s voice shook and he heard Hoshi choke back a sob over the line.

“Hang up.” The man muttered, and Gonta did as he was told, cradling the phone in his palms.

“Now, was that so hard?”

“G-Gonta… wants to go now.”

“I guess I can let you go back to your room, I have to deal with this mess. Get the fuck up, then, and you better not try to fuckin’ run, there’ll be so many bullets in you that all you can taste is lead.” Gonta handed the phone back and got to his feet, nearly stumbling in the process.

“Let's go, you little shit.” He was pushed forward, crying out at the hand over his still fresh cut, but walked regardless, following directions till he found himself in his room.

“Gonta!” You shot up, running to his side and helping him down to the ground.

“G-Gonta is… not a gentleman…” He muttered, eyes closing slowly as you held him tightly, letting him rest. Hoshi, still in his car, hadn't managed to move or hang up his phone since the call ended, the dull beeping ringing in his ears. Gonta had said everything he knew about himself, but hearing it from his boyfriend, his sweet, gentle, loving boyfriend… It was a testament to just how bad of a person he really was. He was beyond disgusting, this was just the final nail in the proverbial coffin. But something didn't seem quite right. After being with Gonta for so long, Hoshi had gotten used to the unusual way he spoke, always referring to himself and others in the third person. But the words he had just heard had been different, almost as if they were scripted.

But Hoshi tried to erase that thought quickly, it didn't matter, the truth wasn't any different. He still had to get the two of you out, and then get as far away as possible, for everyone's sake. There was only one reason to keep going now, to the people he loved and keep them safe, no matter what it cost him. So he drove home, doing his best to stay between the lines of the road in spite of his blurry vision. But once he got to bed, he couldn't rest, just replaying it all over and over. He could still feel the weight of the gun in his hands, the chilled metal heavy with burden. He could still see Saihara’s eyes every time he closed his own, terrified and haunting. And, somehow worse, the horror on your face when the gun went off, ringing in everyone's ears. He laid on his side, staring blankly at the wall, Gonta’s voice echoing through the silence, reminding of just how much worse than worthless he was now.

Back at the warehouse, you had laid down beside Gonta, precariously close to the door but not willing to risk waking him up to move him. You managed to use the bandages to wrap up his wound, a difficult job given its placement. Somehow, you managed to rest a while yourself, only waking up to the sound of sobs. You sat up slowly, quickly surveying the room to find it empty, aside from you and Gonta, the source of the noise. You moved over to where he was curled up on the bed, knees pulled to his chest as he cried.

“G-Gonta, he… he s-said horrible things to R-Ryoma…” You hushed him, pulling him into your arms and hugging him as tight as you dared with the fresh injuries.

“Its okay, shh.” “Gonta knows it's not! The m-man made him say horrible things to Ryoma, made him tell Ryoma he was h-h-horrible!” Gonta’s voice shook roughly and you ran your hands through his tangled hair, doing your best to soothe him.

“G-Gonta isn't a gentleman if he says such nasty things to people he loves.”

“Hey, you didn't want to say any of it, right?” Gonta nodded and you gave him a soft smile.

“Then it's okay. Ryoma might not know it yet, but next time we see him, we’ll explain, okay? He knows, and I know, that you aren't the kind of person to say something like that. You were threatened by that horrible fucking asshole, he made you say it, and that's not your fault, okay?” You thumbed away Gonta’s tears softly until his breathing evened out, finally losing the tension he had been holding. You pulled him close and muttered softly while gently taking knots out of his hair with your fingers, knowing it helped him relax. The peace only lasted for a few moments, though, until your door opened once again. You immediately moved in front of Gonta, just as he had for you and Saihara before, arms out protectively.

“Go the fuck away. Haven't you had enough of torturing us today?” The man smirked, arms crossed over his chest.

“Not quite, sweetie. See, my boys and I are getting pretty fucking bored of your boyfriend, he keeps actually managing to get shit done, and that's no fun. So we’re going to give him one more mission, then we’ll let you go!” You perked up but didn't lower your guard, knowing nothing was ever so easy.

“Where's the catch?”

“The catch? <i>Oh right!</i> That catch.” The man grinned, his yellow stained teeth making you twitch your nose.

“The catch is… that he's going to die in this mission. There's no fucking way he makes it out alive, not with what we want him to do. And once he's dead, and rest assured, we’ll make damn sure he's <i>actually</i> dead, your ours to do whatever with. I haven't decided what quite yet, but that's all the fucking fun! So many choices!” You shuddered to think of what might happen, but bit your lip before your thoughts could stray too far.

“And what if he doesn't?”

“Huh?”

“What if he doesn't die? What if he does this, lives, will you actually let us go? Or are you more of a fucking liar than I thought?” The man sighed, starting to back out of the room. “I wouldn't get your hopes up, darlin’. No need to waste brain cells on shit that's filed under the category of ‘never going to fucking happen’. Yeah, sure, if he somehow pulls this out of his ass, I'll let you go. But he won't. And you’ll be my little prisoners for the rest of your sad lives.” With that, the door closed and you turned back to Gonta, holding his hand tightly.

“This might be it, baby.”

“But what if Ryoma-” You stopped him with a gentle kiss to the nose, managing a smile.

“He’ll do it, he’s Ryoma, after all. We just have to believe in him, and before we know it, we’ll be out of here.” You were saying it just as much for yourself as you were Gonta, hoping that if you said the words out loud that things would end the way you wanted. You and Gonta laid down in silence, holding each other close, each hoping, with every fiber of your being, that Hoshi would come out of this alive.

#gonta gokuhara #gontaryoma #ryoma hoshi #ndrv3 #commission

[clouded-vxle]

Fruitless

February writing challenge day 9: Empty

Find my other day’s entries: here

Prompt list by Ishgard

Facial expressions gave people away; Looks of dissatisfaction, mainly. They look to the cards - to the hands they've drawn, only to empty them.. One after another.

Empty. To play the game, that's exactly what you'd have to become. In some sense. That, or you cheat. For, the hand you're dealt.. It can change, if one is willing.. But. Most become overwhelmed.. With that dreaded emptiness with just the realization of how their hand was panning out to be.

Now, she.. She wasn't empty. She'd cheated once. As the saying went - Nine lives.

It was certainly something she found herself good at - reading people, their emotions and their well-kept secrets. Most not realising that they told them right upon their faces. The eyes.. And how lips twist and turn in certain ways did her favours. The occasional "What's troubling you?" that she inquired of, without any prior reason to.. And the reactions that were always given; They only furthered this.

Vale was extremely observant. Some saying that those mismatched eyes of hers stared into souls. A silly rumour, she'd retort, should one press on such a thing however. The truth was, vacuity reached even her. Losses touched even those who were in some ways, untouchable. People often came and went from our lives. But those, who left something.. They hurt they most when that person.. suddenly vanishes. The Seeker was no exception to this, finding herself questioning.. "Why?"

It never had an answer. Even when she had /all/ the answers. A question the was held deep inside of her, encompassed not in her mind, where it could be easily let free.. Should one desire to. But, in the confines of a heart. The heart will always keep secrets, so long as one wishes to not betray.

Drumming fingertips found themselves coming to a pause, searching deep within herself for an answer to the most mysterious of questions, and only she would be able to find an answer.. Consulting another would be no help. Vale allowed a heavy, audible sigh to erupt from deep within herself.. Clearly not satisfied with the outcome that had come to occur. The answer, eluded her once more.

"One day." She murmured, ".. When, is always the question though, isn't it?" She added.

A hand ran through strawberry blonde locks of hair - the jingles of brilliant golden bangles that wrapped around her wrist as they clashed into one another rippled through the very air she absorbed. "To think..."

"That emptiness is the most peculiar of all things. For it is but an unknown, mmn?" A question that was not meant to have an answer, one she presented to herself for a reason, most assuredly. But one that would not manifest.

#i'm so behind ;; #february writing challenge #ic #writing

[xoxopandapanda]

A Functionally Dysfunctional Valentine’s Day

Set in the Functionally Dysfunctional AU

@inuyasha-valentines

Contrary to popular belief, out of the two of them, Inuyasha was the romantic. While Kagome did love a good romance movie and a date night with her husband, it was Inuyasha who loved to plan and perfect their outings. Kagome had been the one to introduce him to the world of wooing, but once Inuyasha got a taste of it, he was addicted.

Kagome’s work at the clinic had been busier than usual, due much in part to the recent cold snap, and she had all but forgotten Inuyasha’s favorite holiday was coming up. But he hadn’t, and was busily using the extra time that his wife was at the clinic to prepare his ultimate plan. ‘When you getting home?’ He texted his wife because he knew a call would prove to be fruitless. He also knew that expecting a response right away was stupid, so he tucked his phone into his pocket, and set to rotating the tires on the car that had been dropped off that morning. Once he was done, he set to changing the oil, mentally preparing a list of things he needed for his special day with Kagome. ‘I have the roses and chocolate…maybe wine? Oh I should stop by the card section and see if there is a good one. I think we need more dashi stock…’ The good thing about being excellent at his job was his mind could be elsewhere while he was working. It was well over three hours later that Kagome responded. ‘It’s slower today, so I can be home for 4!! :D’ Inuyasha snorted at the emoji attempt, knowing that Kagome had expected it to auto fill but it hadn’t. But nonetheless, 4 pm was good. It meant they had a long evening to themselves. ‘Maybe I should pick up bubble bath stuff too…but she probably has quite a bit of that...’ Inuyasha shot back an actual emoji, just to mess with her a little bit, before looking at the time.  ‘Almost one…’

He turned back to the cars he had to work on, and decided that if he worked efficiently enough, he could close up by three, giving him enough time to get to the store. When it came to Valentine’s Day, Inuyasha was always the first person to have in his order for flowers at the local flower shop. He also preordered all the chocolates from the fancy Swiss store on the other side of town, so he knew he was safe in that regard. He had picked them up that morning, and keen to get them home. It was sometimes a toss-up if there were any good cards left, but Kagome loved either cheesy or mildly offensive cards, so he figured he could find one that fit either category. After all, most wives wanted to be wooed on Valentine’s Day, but Kagome just wanted to spend time with him. Locking everything up for the day finally, after calling his regulars to let them know he was closing a little bit earlier than normal, and starving off the jabs from Totosai to ‘Go and love her right up’, he texted Kagome to tell her he was heading to the store, and to let him know if she needed anything. He arrived just after 3 pm at the mom and pop grocery store that Kagome loved, but he wasn’t the only person standing in the card isle. There were dozens of men, trying to find a nice card for their special someone, some toting kids along, some toting carts full of stuffed animals and chocolate. Inuyasha silently judged all of them for their lack of organization, while mentally praising himself for being such a thoughtful spouse. The only reason he waited until the last minute to pick out the card was because the more picked over the isle was, the more visible the most ridiculous cards were, which saved him time in finding one. Scanning quickly over the options in the Funny-For Her section, Inuyasha picked up the first one that caught his eye. It had a dog squatting on it, with ‘HEY HOT STUFF!’ written across the top at an angle in a font suspiciously similar to the word affects in Microsoft Word that every middle schooler loves. Opening it to read the inside, Inuyasha barked out a loud laugh before closing it, grabbing the envelope, and walking away, heedless of the stares the other people in the isle were giving him. He checked his phone, but Kagome hadn’t texted back yet, so he chanced a phone call to her. “Hi handsome!” She answered the phone. He smiled, always happy to hear her voice, “Hey beautiful. I’m at the store, what do you want for dinner?” “Oh! You’re there right now? I need some soy sauce, dashi, and veggies? I think I still have some tofu in the fridge. What are you thinking for dinner?” “Oden or something, should I grab some meat?” “Okay!” Inuyasha heard, her excitement at the thought of having her favorite meal for dinner shining through. “If you pick up a cake mix, we can have that tonight too! Weight need eggs though...” “Got it. I’ll pick up the mix and the ingredients for the cake to be sure.” “Good idea. Also grab whatever snacks you want. I’m certain we are out of those.” Inuyasha swung down the baking isle, grabbing a vanilla cake mix, vegetable oil, and pink canned frosting. “On it. Anything else?” He asked as he made his way to the refrigerator area. Kagome sighed loudly on the other end of the line. “No, I’m just really excited to come home at a reasonable time. I can’t wait to pet my cat while it’s still light out.” Inuyasha snorted while inspected the eggs in the carton he had picked up. “Your cat is more important than your husband? I’m mortally injured, wench.” “Oh you’ll get your attention. But you know how Buyo gets when you get kisses before him.” Inuyasha places the eggs carefully in the basket he had in his arms, and wondered if he should go back and get a cart. “Maybe I should start being fussier than him. I wonder if that would get me the attention I desire.” “… don’t you dare…” Kagome’s voice held no malice, and Inuyasha knew that she was just as amused as him. Deciding a cart was too much of a hassle, Inuyasha meandered towards the snack section, inspected sales as he walked by. “Tempting idea though.” “You’re being a brat. But I do have to go if I’m going to get out of here on time. I love you.” “Hmm, love you. See you at home.” “Bye!” Kagome hung up quickly. Inuyasha rucked his phone back into his pants pocket, and picked out his choice snacks for home. He had to back track to pick up the meat, but it was fate in a way. Kaede was standing next to the fish, inspecting the choices available. She mustn’t have noticed him, but, to her credit, she didn’t jump when he approached. “What are you going for Valentine’s Day, Inuyasha?” Inuyasha selected some thinly sliced beef, wrapped it in a bag, before placing it in his now-teetering-fully basket. He then reached over and took Kaede’s nearly empty basket. “Spending it with the wife at home. What else should I do?” “You’re not taking her out to dinner?” Kaede selected a nice and plump, but small, white fish, and placed it in her basket that Inuyasha was holding. “She’s not to into going out. You have plans?” “Oh yes. To come here tomorrow, once the sweets are on sale, and have my fill.” Kaede grinned up at his with a full smile and a sparking eye. Inuyasha smiled back, responding, “Now there’s an idea.” Kaede turned on her heel, making her way to the front to check out. “Well I have all I need. What about you, young man?” Inuyasha closely followed. “Yeah, I’m done.” He placed the two baskets at the register of a young teenager, who looked completely unenthusiastic. The boy started to mindlessly ring the items up, not even greeting either of the customers, not that either minded.

The two mildly chatted over the different Valentines Day sweets that they liked the most. As the boy finished scanning and bagging Inuyasha’s grocery items, Inuyasha finally spoke to the cashier. “Her items too, please.” The teenager grunted and began to empty the second basket.

“Inuyasha, please. I can pay for my own groceries.” Kaede chided, but made no indication that she wanted to stop him from doing so.

Inuyasha grinned over at her, pulling out the enough cash to cover the transaction. “I can’t ask you to be my Valentine, but I can pay for your groceries.”

Kaede laughed, and Inuyasha picked up the multiple bags, although only one was the older woman’s. Kaede continued her comments regarding the Valentine sweets she remembered from childhood, and how few of them were still around, while the two of them walked to Inuyasha’s car.

Once they were settled in, and Inuyasha was beginning the brief journey home, Kaede took a peek at the card Inuyasha had purchased for his wife. She read it out loud, pausing at the end to chuckled good naturedly.

“If I didn’t know you two,” she croaked out, her voice caught up from her deep laugh, “I would think this was man trying to get a divorce.”

Inuyasha laughed too. “That’s why Kagome’s the best wife. She thinks these things are funny!”

Kaede placed the card back into the envelope, and leaned back for the last block home. “You two are a match made in heaven.”

Inuyasha smiled, but said nothing further to her comments, knowing that she spoke the truth. Pulling into the driveway of their small but present home, Inuyasha turned the engine off, and grabbed Kaede’s grocery bag. He walked her over to her house in a comfortable silence, and was patted on the cheek for his efforts. After making sure she secured her door, he went back to the car to bring in the rest of the bags of groceries. He had enough time to start chopping the vegetables for the oden before Kagome came back and took over.

He figured his car, although it was his baby, could spend one night outside, especially since it was predicted to be a mild night.

Kagome came home just as Inuyasha was putting the broth in the serving bowl to heat it up and boil the vegetables, left over tofu from the fridge, and meat. Kagome greeted him with a warm kiss, and a soft “Happy Valentine’s Day” before jogging to the bedroom to put her pajamas on, with Buyo hot on her heels, true to his nature and displeased that Inuyasha had received any sort of affection prior to him.

Inuyasha took the brief repose from his wife to quickly sign the card, and put it on the table for her, next to the vase of roses and fancily packaged chocolates.

Kagome entered the room, wearing her soft fleece pajama pants with hearts all of over it and one of his old t-shirts he wasn’t allowed to wear in public anymore. Her hair was haphazardly tossed up into a messy bun, and she carried the vocally displeased calico cat in her arms. She saw the card, and tossed a sheepish look at Inuyasha.

“It’s Valentine’s Day, isn’t it?” She asked, remorse already filling her eyes and body.

Inuyasha placed the oden ingredients into the broth, and grunted. He rinsed his hands, and walked over to her. “Don’t stress, woman! Christmas is your thing, Valentine’s is mine. After all, I tried to stay open on Christmas this year.”

Kagome laughed, her tense shoulders easing, letting Buyo slip a little bit. Buyo quickly informed both of them exactly what his opinion of that was, but they ignored him.

“Tried being the key word. No one was willing to come themselves!” She leaned into his embrace.

“Ah, what diligent customers I have, thinking of my wife just as much as I do!” He planted a kiss on her head, before picking up the still yowling cat from her arms and placing him on his shoulder. “One day, someone is going to call the cops on us for animal abuse with the way he carries on.”

Kagome patted the larger brown spot on Buyo, snorting, “If anyone tries to take him away, I’m sure they’ll bring him back in the hour.” She reached down and opened the envelope to reveal the card front. She tossed him a deadpan look. “I think I made something similar to this in middle school.”

Inuyasha grinned. “Isn’t it great! Just wait, it gets better!”

Kagome narrowed her eyes, and read the card. “Hey hot stuff…” she opened the card to reveal the image of the dog defecating with a grimace on its face, “You’re the shit.” There was cartoon steam coming off of the pile of excrement, and the color of the words was a deep brownish yellow, also appearing to be a special word affect, done with bad taste.  

Inuyasha looked back and forth from the card to his wife’s face once, and then twice, before Kagome let out a howl of a laugh, which proved to be too much for Buyo who demanded to be place on the ground instantly. Inuyasha complied, knowing that something was probably going to get destroyed by the cat, but not really caring.

Kagome’s laugh was infectious, and Inuyasha started to laugh along with her. “Inuyasha!” she exclaimed, “You’ve out done yourself!”

“I knew you’d love it!” He accepted her arms as the flung around his neck so she could pull him in for a kiss. Pulling back from her affection, he added his last thought for a while, “The only issue is, it’s not really work appropriate, so you can’t show it off.”

“Oh well, it’s the thought that counts,” Kagome retorted before kissing him again.

He was only released when the boiling of the soup pot became loud, and Kagome took a moment to smell the flowers and appreciate the chocolates. They ate their dinner in comfortable quiet, only interrupted by the whizzing of cars outside, and the groans of a grumpy cat in the back ground. They held hands under the table, like bashful lovers, even though they were in their own home with no one looking. Together, they cleaned up the kitchen, and made the cake mix kinda-sorta to package directions, but not too terribly worried if it turned out.

Once it was in the oven and the 58 minutes on the clock, Inuyasha moved into the living room to put on a movie. While Kagome did love a good romcom upon an occasion, Inuyasha couldn’t be bothered to sit through even an hour of it, so he put on a good action movie that he knew Kagome would love.

She sauntered into the room holding glasses of wine. “Look what I found under the sink!” she called to him before noticing his movie choice. “Rush Hour? Heck yeah!”

Inuyasha accepted the glass from her. “Only the best for my better half.”

Kagome blushed mildly, pleased by his comments, but more interested in the movie than further the conversation. Together they snuggled, drinking wine, until the timer went off, and Kagome left to take the cake out of the oven. She came back with one of her abnormally fluffy and large blankets, and dropped her head on his lap for the rest of the film.

Inuyasha absent mindedly twirled her hair in his fingers, and appreciated the warmth of their love and home.

Once the movie was done, Kagome was lightly dozing off on his lap, her breathing deep and regular. Inuyasha made no move to wake her up, but as soon as the noise from the television stopped, she opened her eyes. Her body tensed for a moment, before she released a loud sigh and stretched long.

She rolled over to meet his eyes. “Wanna bath?” he asked her.

“Everyday.” She sat up, and lifted her hands above her head. “Whatcha thinking of?”

“You, in a bubble bath, me, on the floor reading you some stupid tweets.” Inuyasha rose himself, placed his hands on his lower back, leaning back to stretch. He then stepped just in front of her to lift her into his arms, carrying her bridal style.

Kagome laughed gleefully, “Ooohhh, Mr. Romantic! You know the way to a woman’s heart!” Inuyasha carried her up to their bathroom, before turning on the faucet for her bath. Kagome stripped down, wrapped herself in a towel, before reaching to grab some bath salts and a bubble bath gel. She handed them to Inuyasha who put some under the running water. Soon the bath was heavily scented and frothy – just the way Kagome liked.

Kagome crawled into the warm water, sighing in appreciation, and Inuyasha sat on the floor next to the tub. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, where it had yet to leave from his trip to the store, and pulled up his Twitter app. It was virtually the only social media that Inuyasha consumed, but he was never active on it. He just enjoyed the different tweets from comedians that he followed.

He read all of his feed, filtering none of it, and he and Kagome rated whether they thought they were funny or not. If there was a picture included, Inuyasha would show it to Kagome, and some of the bootlegged items that were begin inspected caused quite the uproar between the two of them.

“Oh yes,” Kagome exclaimed between her giggles, “the collaboration between Nike and Winne the Pooh was my favorite one.”

Inuyasha gasped out his laughter, nodding his agreement.

Once the wine and hot water got to Kagome, she beached her way out of the tub, completely unconcerned that she was the opposite of graceful, knowing Inuyasha had seen much worse from her. He handed her a towel after tucking away his phone again. Kagome stumbled, still chuckling to herself to the bedroom. She called over her shoulder, “Bring the car to the garage. Then come back to bed.”

Inuyasha knew he shouldn’t have been surprised that she remembered his car better than he did, but if it was important to him, it was important to her, and he was pleased to hear her remind him to take it in. Although he hadn’t intended to do so, he went to pull his favorite car into the garage. As he grabbed his keys, he saw the destruction Buyo had chosen to wreak. Looking at the little pieces of paper that was strewn all of the entry way to their home, Inuyasha halfway hoped the paper wasn’t important, but chose to do nothing at the moment, because, hell, it was already done.

Inuyasha stepped outside and brought his car into the garage, and was back in the house before Kagome could get her inebriated and happy self into bed. She had managed to get her pajamas back on, but was fighting a losing battle with the duvet. Inuyasha watched for a little while, Kagome’s giggling preventing her from being able to easily pull back the cover, and her wobbly legs making her teeter her and there. Eventually, after he got his fill of amusement, Inuyasha helped her into bed, before changing into his pajamas of light sleeping pants, and no shirt. He went downstairs to frost and bring up the cake that had been momentarily forgotten. He hadn’t realized at the store that the frosting container came with some gaudy hearts and kisses sprinkles, but he poured them on top of the frosting anyways. Although Kagome was a much better cake decorator than him, he knew she would love it regardless. He climbed back up the stairs with two larger slices of the cake, and found Kagome had snagged his phone out of his pants, her mostly likely downstairs in her purse still. She was playing Whitney Huston’s ‘I Will Always Love You’ at full volume. When she saw him enter the doorframe, she sang with it. Normally, Kagome had a lovely voice, that reigned in its listener, but slightly drunk Kagome was singing for the gods. And not in a good way. Inuyasha’s ears immediately pinned against his head, and he looked at her in horror. Kagome only lasted about 10 seconds before she started to cough from the effort, and began to laugh instead. “Let’s not do that again, wench.” Inuyasha approached the bed and put the cake slices on the side table on his side. Kagome rasped out, “You got it, dog boy.” Inuyasha took then phone and turned off the song. He set his alarm, a little later than normal for Kagome’s sake, and put the phone on the nightstand. Kagome was still laying down, looking up at him with eyes that shone so much love that Inuyasha had to take a second and kiss her. She tried to wrap her hands up into his hair and pull him closer, but he moved away from her to grab the cake slices. Kagome was easily persuaded to change her course of action, and accepted the plate with a wholehearted, “oh my, my, my! Thank you!” Inuyasha settled in next to her, still on top of the duvet, but in close proximity. They took turns feeding each other bites of their respective slices of cake, interrupted by kisses here and there. The cake was sweet, but not as sweet as the loved shared between the two lovers. Once the cake was finished, even the crumbs gone, Inuyasha picked up the plates, and walked them down to the dishwasher. He came back with a glass of water for both of them, but Kagome appeared to have already fallen asleep. She was curled up toward his side of the bed, her arm reaching out for him already. Kneeling on the edge of the bed, Inuyasha reached over her to place her water down on her nightstand. Placing his glass on his side, Inuyasha laid down carefully, waiting for Kagome to move her arm before placing his whole weight on the mattress. She pulled her arm back from instinct, and waited for him to settle on his back before reaching her arm across his torso and scooting closer. Inuyasha wrapped his arms around her, whispering, “You’re such a damn lightweight.” Kagome mumbled back to him, “But I’m your lightweight.” Inuyasha snorted lightly, “Yeah, you are,” before closing his eyes and chasing sleep himself. Except, Kagome’s giggles returned with a vengeance, and soon her entire body was shaking uncontrollably, and she looked up into his one opened eye and said, “You’re the shit…” Inuyasha screwed his eyes tight, trying to not laugh, but failing miserably. He too began to shake, and the two of them fell into hysteria together. Kagome reached up to pull him into a wet kiss, pulling away to say, “Happy Valentine’s Day to the best husband in the whole wide world. I love you more than you can ever imagine.” Inuyasha placed his hand on the back of her neck, and puller closer to him, tucking her head into the crook of his neck. “I love you too. You’ll never know how much.” Kagome sighed, and closed her eyes, finally succumbing to the call of sleep, with Inuyasha not far behind. The next morning, they’d go downstairs to find out Buyo had destroyed the water bill, and that they would have to call up the company for the amount they owed, would eat cake for breakfast, and would continue their week the best way they knew how: functionally dysfunctional. But for the moment, they were just in love, and happy to be that way.

#Functionally Dysfunctional #panda writes #inukag #inuyasha x kagome #inuyashaxkagome #kagome #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha ficlet #inukag valentine's day #valentine's day story #inuyasha fandom valentine's day 2018

[rather-impertinent]

The Girl Next Door: Chapter 1

A/N: Hello friends! Here is my newest Carolight AU, as promised. This is just an introduction, I pinky promise it gets better, I’ve kind of wrote this AU backwards tbh hahaha! It will also feature lots of other familar characters and pairings down the line, so stay tuned! I hope you like it xo

It had been fifteen long hours since Doctor Dwight Enys had seen the exterior of his flat building. He welcomed the sight of the somewhat overly-aggressive modern building with the familiar fondness of home. He began the usual dissection of his large collection of keys as he searched for the one that unlocks the outside door to apartment Block C. He really needed to colour code these damn keys. Honestly, one would think he were a janitor or a soccer mom with too many hobbies as opposed to a single surgeon, who ironically held no particular talents where tidiness and cleanliness were concerned, nor did he have any children to speak of.

Once the damn door had finally been unlocked, he groaned as he opened it into the warm building, thinking of the three flights of stairs he would have to now climb to get to his bed. But that would spur him on: the thought of his bed. His lovely, cosy double bed; his dearest friend; his one true companion in this life. Dwight had also just this morning remembered to wash his bedsheets, and so luxurious, fresh comfort awaited him just a mere sixty steps away. Rejuvenated by his thoughts of rest, Dwight made for the stairway. He climbed the first one, smiling, the thought of peace and quiet appealing to exhausted mind when-

Thump, thump, thump.

He stopped short on the fourth step and sighed. So, the Hunters have fallen out again, he thought. He really did not have time for this. It was after ten in the evening and he had stitched so many wounds back together that his fingers physically ached. If either one of the sweet, yet clearly drug fuelled, middle aged couple tried to drag him into whatever ridiculous argument they were having, he would just have to jump headfirst out of the nearest window and die. He took the next few steps two at a time, holding his breath as he got to the second landing, anticipating either Joan or Robert Hunter standing in the small, carpeted space, shouting profanities and very nearly kicking their door in. He was amazed to find it empty until he realised, to his horror, that the banging was coming from above him: his landing. He took the next few steps three at a time and was met by the silhouette of a woman he had never seen before.

She had not noticed his presence and continued to bang incessantly and shout for someone named Horace. Normally, Dwight was not one to intervene in the lives of his neighbours, except to help with the odd shopping bag or carrying a pram down the stairs, but the young woman seemed so genuinely distressed that he felt it would bother his conscience if he just silently slipped into his own flat.

He tapped her shoulder gently and she started, almost comically so. “Um, hi, are you okay?”

The woman turned to face Dwight and, despite the long black trails of mascara down her face, she was very beautiful. Ridiculously so. She sniffed fiercely, “No, I – I went to go to the shop a while ago and I realised I had left my keys inside,” Dwight closed his eyes briefly in sympathy: the doors locked automatically when closed – a usually useful modern feature of the building, “it’s been a long day,” she tried to explain, “but the thing is, my darling Horace is now stuck inside!” She began to cry softly again.

Dwight stared at her, trying to wrack his brains as to how to help the poor woman. “Ok. It’s alright.” Even he winced at his pitiful attempt to comfort her. Jesus, you twat it’s clearly not alright. He knew that they would probably have to call the fire station or the police soon if they couldn’t figure out a way in, which would no doubt be mortifying for the young mother standing in front of him. “Is there anyone I can call for you?” He hoped she wouldn’t take this to mean he was copping out of assisting her, he just felt that if he had accidentally left his child in his flat, he would appreciate some familiar company.

The woman shook her head slowly and tried the door handle again, as if it would magically unlock itself.

He chewed his lip as he watched her fruitless attempts to move the stubborn door. Think, Enys, think. You’re a fucking surgeon. Use your brain. He made a slight eureka sound as he fully took in her form. He pointed at her hair bun and snapped his fingers, an idea forming in his head. “Your hair!” She looked at him with a quizzical expression and smoothed her hair slightly – worried it was a mess. Dwight chuckled mutely, “No, I mean, do you have any hairpins?”

“Oh,” she said, blinking. “Yes. Why?” She continued to stare blankly at him, not fully understanding his meaning.

“I think I can help you out, can you give me two of them?”

She nodded quickly at the handsome stranger and pulled all the pins out of her blonde hair, which then tumbled down her back like a golden waterfall. She offered him the small cluster of pins and he chose two from the pile, quickly biting off the small circular ends. The blonde nymph was about to protest at the destruction of her property before he straightened the black pins and began to pick at the lock. She simply gawped at him, wondering what the fuck he was doing and if she had somehow moved in next to James Bond. She didn’t see how it could even be possible for James Bond to unlock a door with only two small hair grips.

After a minute, he sighed in frustration and squinted his gaze at the light above them in landing, as if scolding it for not being bright enough.

The young woman quickly fished out her phone from the pocket of her dark jeans and wordlessly shined the torch feature at the lock, so he could see better. He offered her a small smile in thanks before trying again – this time with a new pin. She eyed him with keen interest. “You don’t seem like the type of guy who would know how to pick a lock,” she commented, her blue eyes curious. How could a guy who looks like he volunteers at an old folks’ home for fun know how to break into someone’s house?

The corners of his lips tilted upwards as he continued to pry at metal slit. “A good friend of mine had a dodgy phase while at uni and he taught me how – only for emergencies, like this, of course.”

“Oh.” Is all she can say.

Dwight curses and encourages the pins as he pushes anticlockwise on them with all his might.

Click.

“Yes!” He exhaled, and before the breath had fully left his body, the woman had shoved past him and bolted into the flat. Dwight stood in the doorway and decided to take a couple of steps inside to ensure the woman was alright. She stood with her back to him, staring out of the window at the city lights in the distance, soothing a bundle of blankets. Dwight smiled and was just about to leave as she turned around, her bright blue eyes wide with appreciation and relief. Dwight’s breath caught in his throat and he felt a strange desire to laugh.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!”

He stared at her, dumbstruck, wondering if he was being Punk’d or something. Did they even still make that tv show? He blinked at the sight before him several times before he found his voice, “Horace... is... your dog?” She was still sniffing slightly, but looked at him as though he were the dumbest person in the world. “Yes, of course,” she told him, as though it were a detail she had already mentioned, and even if she hadn’t, that it should have been completely obvious.

They continued their awkward, confused stare off until the young woman looked at the beige pug in unmistakable alarm. “Oh, God. He’s breathing weird. Something’s wrong!” Fresh tears began to well in her eyes again.

Dwight had a good mind to leave, he had worked a fourteen-hour shift today and would repeat the torture in about ten hours’ time. Why was he wasting his time on some blonde ditz, who – judging by the lavishly decorated flat – could very well afford to pay a private vet for his or her services? Still, the expression on her face was one of such genuine distress and desperation, he felt like he would be failing in his duty as a doctor, as well as human being, to leave her by herself. “Let me see him,” he instructed in his best professional voice, stretching out his arms.

Her brows creased above her cloudy eyes and she held the dog even tighter to her chest. “What?”

His famed patience was growing thin. “I’m a doctor,” he explained, “and an aunt of mine used to have a pug, it had a lot of breathing problems, too. I might be able to help.”

The young woman took a seat on the sofa, with the pug firmly in her lap, and tapped the space next to her, encouraging Dwight to sit down. He did so, and then gently took the pug from her arms and placed it on his own lap. Despite its laboured breathing, it managed a decent growl in Dwight’s direction, which caused the woman beside him to chuckle. She watched with concern as Dwight poked and prodded the small creature.

He met her worried gaze and inhaled slowly. “His pulse is steady, and he doesn’t have a fever. But he’s had a fit, which are common in pugs,” he adds hastily as the woman sitting opposite him looks fit to burst into tears again.

She stroked the animal soothingly, obviously very fond of it. “Is there anything I can do?” Her tone was somewhat timid yet assuredly determined.

Dwight bit the inside of his cheek in hesitation before replying, anticipating a verbal or literal thrashing, “Yes. He is – uh – he’s too fat,” he stated plainly, and almost laughs when the girl gasped and covered the pug’s ears from the harsh truth of the matter, “but it can be easily remedied: take him for frequent walks, feed him less rich food, that sort of thing.”

She narrowed her eyes at Dwight and he winced almost imperceivably, but she then began to nod slowly. “Well, I suppose you are a doctor,” she conceded, watching him very closely, “and so I should listen to you.” Dwight did not know why but for some reason he felt like she was mocking him.

“He’ll be much less prone to fits if he loses some weight, it helped my aunt’s pug.” Dwight nodded politely and rose to leave, seeking the warm comfort of his bed at last.

She watched him go, somewhat annoyed that her first conversation of the day was coming to an end. “Did it, really?” She smiled as the doctor stopped in his tracks. “What was your aunt’s pug called?”

He turned back around to face the woman and Horace. “It did,” he confirmed. He chuckled then, fond childhood memories coming back to him. “My aunt Jane’s pug was called Doug. Doug the pug, you could never guess she’s a poet, eh?”

The siren laughed at his joke and smiled widely, her musical laughter ringing in his ears. He found himself unable to resist joining in, too. Once their laughter had faded and only an almost tense atmosphere remained, he coughed awkwardly, stood up to leave and walked several paces towards the door before stopping in his tracks once again, a thought occurring to him. “Your shopping. Or lack, thereof. Do you need to borrow anything? Like some milk or something?”

She shook her head and continued to stroke the pug on her lap. “No, it’s OK, thank you. I think after that experience I’d sooner have a shot of alcohol than of a cup of tea!”

“Now, that, I can definitely understand.” With a final smile, he turned his back and reached for the door handle.

“Wait!” she demanded in a light tone. His hand paused on the rectangular metal grip and he glanced at her over his shoulder, an expectant expression on his face. She pursed her lips, smirking slightly. “What is your name?”

#carolight #poldark fanfic #girl next door au

[thejackal64]

Star vs The Forces of Evil: Hidden Truth | Chapter 9: The Scribe

“Where are we going, mistress?”

“To the crypt.”

“To the… crypt.” Laar looked around and almost dared to yell “WE ARE IN SPOOKY CAVERNS FILLED WITH CREEPY BOOKS, WHY WOULD YOU NEED A CRYPT IN HERE?!”, but he kept his mouth shut. After all he went through, having Eclipsa being pissed at him was at the bottom of his to-do list.

His presence in this forsaken place wasn’t even on that list. Alas, the choice of picking the destination was never his, otherwise he’d be long gone not only from here, but also from Mewni, from her. He never liked Eclipsa, never trusted her, or her intentions. With all the power she possessed, she could be done with everything and everyone in a matter of days, hours even. But for some reason she always kept dancing around the possibility to rule the Mewni and even further beyond, way further. Then again, he never really grasped the concept of love.

“We’re here.”

He snapped out of his thoughts and gazed at front of him. He didn’t think it was possible for all the creepiness of this place to exist, but somehow this monstrous building was doing exactly that - a hell inside the hell. And they needed to get inside of that thing.

“W-What’s inside?”

“Books.”

He rolled his eyes. More books in more cramped space.

It was simply astonishing. Not the building itself; the monstrosity looked like it was created by an architect with some weird demons and severe digestive issues. No, the astonishing aspect of this creation was how anyone could conceive of such a thing, even as a thought. As was Laar trying to comprehend it, he looked back and realized how deeply wrong he was to criticize this lovely library. Because compared to this disgusting thing, it was a neat and comfy place where elderly people came to discuss their grandchildren.

Of course, Eclipsa being… well, Eclipsa, she walked inside with a grace of a person that just strolled out of a department store. But the moment Laar stepped his foot inside, his brain started to twist itself in a fruitless attempt to comprehend what his eyes were seeing.

While on the outside, the crypt looked truly ugly, the architecture inside it was beyond comprehension. And unfortunately for Laar, not in the cool sense of the word. It was wild, a violent mixture of incomprehensible shapes and indescribable colors, mixed together in a way that shouldn’t even be possible. Apparently, physical laws never really took any interest in this place and it was aparent.

“Can… I… leave?!” Every word that left his mouth was filled with the pain of his guts trying to escape his body in different directions. While he was a monster, he was one more by his appearance rather than his desire to conquer living beings and eat them.

Eclipsa just motioned her hand, without even bothering to check up on him. But he didn’t care, because with his sheer will power, he managed to drag himself out to the welcoming aura of the old, dusty, and musty library.

While silently moving through narrow corridors of the crypt, Eclipsa couldn’t help but feel a sense of belonging. As if some invisible force was welcoming in its hallways. This feeling was getting more intense with every step towards its center, where she hoped, would be a book containing the history of the family she had decided to join over 300 years ago. Those years were a gap that she wanted to fill with information.

But when she reached the center, nothing was there. “Wha…? No. NO!” The place wasn’t completely empty, as there was small piece of rugged paper on a podium. A note: Dear love, after what happened we couldn’t just stay here. We moved on. If you’ll ever read this, I’ll hope you’ll do the same.

As she was holding it, her hand started to shake. Only a little at first, but all the anger that was accumulating ever since she left the caves had to go. In what could be described only as madness, she started to randomly search the room. As her breathing was getting heavier, the wand was responding to all her rage that was flowing inside her body. The purple glow that started emitting from it got really dark, almost turning to pitch black.

Eclipsa let go.

Laar was silently sitting on the ground. Out of boredom, he started to count books in a nearby shelf. But that got boring too, so instead he started to imagine how he could make Eclipsa suffer, if he ever had the power do it. He was already thinking about the 96th way, when a tremor went through the ground. He swiftly jumped back to his legs, just in time to notice the flying crypt’s roof falling right down on him. He jumped away between two shelves at the last second.

When the dust settled down, he saw her. Or more precisely, a glowing figure at the crypt’s entrance. And it was staring right at him. Laar didn’t feel very secure at that moment, although he didn’t know why she would go after him. But it didn’t really matter, because back in his brain he just realized he’d picked the worst possible place to hide; there was only a wall behind his back. He still might want to try to run away, sure, but after all the trouble he went with Eclipsa, he just couldn’t care less.

And so he patiently waited, as the figure was silently reaching his position. It would be a lie to tell that he wasn’t scared. In fact, she was so close that he literally froze with fear. Unable to do anything with his situation, he accepted his fate, whatever it might hold. As it turned out, it wasn't immediate death. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it was nice to know he would find out while not dying.

“Did you know?”

Though, after hearing her voice, that chance shrunk down.

“W-What?” His voice was cracking from paralyzing fear.

She came closer. “Did. You. Know?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” He really didn’t, but his shaky voice was giving the impression that it was hiding something.

“LIAR!!!” Eclipsa clenched his throat and lifted him into the air. “YOU ARE ALWAYS LYING!”

“I assure-.. you, milady,-.... that I’m utterly clueless-... about most things.”

“I find it hard to believe it when you refused to go inside with me.”

“That place made me sick! UGH~ It had nothing to do with whatever you found there.”

“That’s the thing, I DIDN’T FIND ANYTHING! YOU TOOK IT AWAY!”

“I did no such thing! And even if I did, why would I still be waiting for you here?!”

“Don’t try to deceive me! YOU HAVE THE BOOK!!!”

“I CAN'T EVEN READ!” The remaining air in his lungs was depleting. “Please, I don’t know anything about any book. I even opened your dream journal without knowing what it was, remember?” Life in his eyes was slowly going away. “I’m too stupid to steal anything from you.”

And this was true. He even brought back her wand, even though he could just have run away. This sudden realization made Eclipsa calmer.

“Please, I- I don’t want to die.”

She loosened her grip around Laar’s neck and slowly put him back down. He was desperately gasping for fresh air. The darkness that was surrounding her was subsiding.

“I… am sorry.” Now that was something he never heard from her, but unfortunately he was too busy with maintaining his breathing, so he didn’t catch it.

She sat down on the rubble, with her wand in her hand. For the first time in a long, long while, she allowed herself to feel pain, remorse, regrets, and all those uncomfortable emotions that she had decided to block out because they were holding her back from reaching her full potential. As a result, the wand started to slowly wither. The human part of her was reasserting itself.

“I have nothing. I am alone.”

After Laar finally managed to ease up his breathing, he saw Eclipsa sitting on a broken rock. A while ago she looked like a rampaging monster, but now she looked… well, broken.

“Milady?”

Still scared, he carefully came closer. To his relief, she didn’t try to smite him. In fact, she didn’t do or say anything at all. She was just sitting there, motionless and… lifeless? He dared to touch her dress and it felt almost like dirt. The wand wasn’t looking any better.

“My queen…” Laar wasn’t exactly sure what to do. “My queen, what about your daughter?” The last time he had asked about her, she had gotten so mad that she blasted his arm off. In this case, he couldn’t think of anything else what could get her attention.

It worked. “Yes.” Her voice was still a bit off, but the menacing tone was back. “You’re right. There is still a way.” She managed to stand back up. “They are all gone, but I might go after them. I just need to know where they went. And the only place where I can possibly learn that is…”

“MEWNI?!” Laar shouted. “I mean- why would they know what happened to them?”

Eclipsa took a deep breath of fresh air outside the Forest of Certain Death.

“Why would they write down anything about monsters? They despise them,” Laar continued

“Indeed, but they also like to record victories over them. And I imagine that after capturing me, they went after them. Mewmen ego couldn’t just leave them alone.”

“I see.”

“If this was the case, they’d certainly send the Scribe with them to witness it. All we need to do is to get into Mewni Library.”

“I infiltrated Mewni several times before. This shouldn’t be hard.”

“Inside the castle.”

“Oh.”

Laar checked on Eclipsa. “Ehm, I don’t to be rude, but uhm I don’t they’d allow to walk in in this outfit. They might not remember what happened over 300 years ago, but they still remember you.”

“They won’t see me, or you.”

“Wait, what?”

“I might not be Queen of Mewni, but I am still a Queen of Darkness. One simple spell and they’ll believe they see a mother with his son.”

Now that was an idea he wouldn’t be able to get out of his mind for a long time.

The Kingdom of Mewni was towering against an orange sunset. Peasants were finishing their errands in a rush before dark enveloped the surroundings. As if they were spooked by something. Or someone.

“They’re sure in a hurry,” stated Laar.

Eclipsa just smiled. “Come, we need to get into the castle before the streets will be emptied.”

As they were speed walking through the streets, people were frantically moving from one place to another. It was really fascinating, like watching an ant colony during working hours: an old man was hurrying to buy candies for his grandchildren, a few meters further a mother was slapping her kid for eating dirt, and behind a corner, some shady doctor was offering to remove an “affected” limb for free. Yep, Mewni hadn’t changed much in all those years. Even the orderly panic caused by Eclipsa’s escape was familiar.

“Even though people don’t see us, you don’t expect to walk into the castle by front door, do you milady?”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“I’m trying, my Queen.”

“There is a hidden entrance just below the bridge.”

“Oh. A door?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Why would they put a door there? No, it’s a crack in the castle’s foundation. Over the years, water eroded it enough for one person to fit in. I used it to escape through it when I was little.”

“I can’t picture you as a rebel.”

“Neither did my parents. Anyway, we’re here. The opening is hidden at the bottom, near the river.”

“I can’t see it.”

“Because it’s hidden. We need to go down.”

Laar looked at the steep descent made by slippery rocks. “I can’t possibly climb this.”

“You have claws.”

“But only one hand!”

“Fair enough.”

Eclipsa shoved Laar off the cliff. She then jumped after him with her opened umbrella.

“Why?” asked Laar as he was spitting out dirt.

“You are a monster. You’ll live.”

“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

“If I knew you’d be this much of a wuss, I’d release someone else from the crystal.”

“I feel privileged.”

“You should. Now…” Eclipsa carefully inspected her environment. “Ah yes, there it is.”

“Were? I still can’t see anything.”

“Turn around and you’ll see it.”

The entrance was cleverly hidden behind the bush, so anyone looking at it from the top wouldn’t be able to see it. And by the looks of it, not a single Butterfly Princess discovered it during those 300 years.

Eclipsa moved the bush aside. “Looks like it wasn't used for quite a while. A shame, really. Thankfully, water did its work and eroded the entry; I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to fit in.”

“Even if it didn’t, you could still use your magic, no?”

She looked at him with disbelief, “This is Mewni Castle we are talking about. Even one spark of my magic would be risky. And I don’t want them to know we are, or ever were, here.”

“Oh.”

“Oh indeed. You know what? From now on you’ll stay silent. I need to focus and your constant idiotic questions are giving me a headache.”

“OK.”

“What did I just say?”

Laar wanted again to respond, but he stopped just in time. “This is the thanks I get for helping her.”

After closer inspection of the entrance, water did indeed widen the crack. But even 300 years weren’t enough to make it big enough so that Eclipsa could comfortably go through it. The tunel was crooked, narrow, wet, and smelly. All of this brought back memories of her childhood. The key difference was that she was a lot smaller back then and secret escapes had a sense of adventure. The young girl was now an adult woman, with grandiose clothing in tow. And in this case literally in tow - the sharp edges of cavern were leaving pieces of it behind.

Laar was actually enjoying every second of it. For once he did something better than she did. He couldn’t help but to keep smiling like a maniac, which was the price for trying really hard not to burst into loud laughter.

The tunnel now started to ascend. It was also getting darker, so Eclipsa lit up the crystal in her wand to illuminate the path. To Laar’s delight it wasn’t occupied by any creatures whatsoever. The only thing that was present there besides them was rushing water under their feet. Where was it coming from, he wondered?

The so far straight tunnel now started to have sharp turns, which made the already difficult path even more complicated. This isn’t how she remembered those exciting escapes at night, filled with expectations. Now it felt more like… work. A very unpleasant work at that. But if she truly wanted to learn what happened during her absence, she had to go through with it.

“We should be close now,” announced Eclipsa. And indeed, water was gone, the cavern a lot dryer, but still eating her address. “Wait, what’s this…? No, NO!” She was angrily tapping the wooden obstacle. “Someone replaced the bookshelf with a cupboard. Who would need it inside a library?! Laar, claw it!”

“Uhm, I know I’m not supposed to talk, but I can’t go past you. You’re on your own I’m afraid.”

“Argh! Useless as usual!”

This made Laar angry, but she was the Queen. Besides, what could he do, talk her to death?

Eclipsa tried to push it, but it was too heavy. “Looks like I will have to use my magic after all. Which I really don’t want to. Hmm, maybe if I’m really subtle…” She touched the wood with her wand, closed her eyes and silently started to mumble words. The cupboard started to glow in purple shade. The glow was really subtle and the rise of its strength even more so. It took her several minutes before she finally took the umbrella off it and then gently blowed it. The whole cupboard turned into smooth dust.

“Let’s just hope no one was inside.”

The room was empty. And old. And dusty. And moisty. This combination was very familiar to Laar. “Great,” he thought, “more books.”

Eclipsa looked at the room with subtle smile on her face. “Here again, in the hidden chamber.” She carefully touched the opened book lying on the table. It had a texture like sandpaper and the font was distorted a bit, but still readable. She read few lines. “Someone left it here on purpose?” She closed the book. Its title was The Great Hunt of Lost Souls. “Lost Souls? What happened?” She sat on a dusty chair, not minding all the dirt around. “Take a seat, Laar, this will take a while.”

Eclipsa opened the book.

Hi there! Wait, that’s not right. Uhm… Dear reader. Nah that’s still not it. Eh, hello? Argh, this is ridiculous! I wanted to be the scribe, but I can’t even write a simple introduction properly. Bah, screw it. I’ll just write what I see.

Right, so, m- ehm, since Eclipsa is locked up - I mean way locked up - it was decided to hunt down all the monsters she managed to ally herself with. Why, you ask? Good question. I was never into politics. I think it was something about security? I dunno, but it sounded really important. And I like to be around important stuff. Without others knowing I'm there with them.

That is why I am here right now, with the small hunting party, that will catch and kill said monsters. Between you and me, I never understood why we had to kill them. It’s not like they were trying hurt us or anything. But I was told it’s too complicated for me understand, so I will just have to believe them.

Anyway, the team has 5 members. First, the leader, he’s this tall, silent and menacing looking old man called Bher. Silent might be an understatement; when I went after him to introduce myself, he didn’t say a word. In fact, he didn’t move a muscle. Anywhere. Although his silence speaked volume and let me tell you, it was nothing pretty. But I guess you need these types of people for jobs like this. But you wouldn’t want to have him on your party, no sir.

Thankfully his second in command, Windblower, was a jolly little fellow. Always laughing, always smiling, always carrying heavy machinery, and for some reason always looking at me… I’m not sure why, but I always felt a little uncomfortable around him. It wasn’t that he was bad to me, far from it. But his jokes were alluring me and every time he said one, the retinue was looking at me. Weiiiird.

Then there was Spikee. I'm not sure what is his function on this journey, seeing as he has no weapons to speak of, at least I don't see any. But everytime he spoke up, others were listening closely to what he had to say. So I guess that was his function? As a moral booster? Though it stroke me as weird that any royal Mewman would need any boost of any kind. You know what I’m saying?

The last two members were twin sisters - Jawaal and Tristeen. Jawaal was the team’s medic. If I can be honest with you, she wasn’t exactly gentle with her patients and more often than not they ended up with new injuries after being in her care for just 5 minutes. But she loved her job, I could tell that from the looks on her face. Her twin, Tristeen, was, if you can believe that, a demolition expert. There were rumors that her techniques were so advanced that many considered them magic. So, as a chronically curious person, which I am, I naturally wanted to uncover her secrets.

Finding her carriage in the caravan wasn’t that difficult. It was the one heavily fortified. Hmm, she really wanted to keep her secrets… well, secret. Fortunately for me, uncovering mysteries was one of my specialties. There wasn’t one that could stay hidden from me for long. Unless, of course, its owner was watching me the whole time.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She was breathing down on my neck. How the heck did she get there so fast?

“Uhm, nothing?” Perhaps my answer would be believable if I wasn’t still holding a lock pick set in my hand.

“You sure about that?” she pointed to my right hand.

“Oh, this? Wait, how’d this end up in my hand? Go away!” I threw it away. Yep, my ability to handle awkward situations was smooth as sandpaper.

“Right.”

“Oh, come on! I need to know!” I’m pretty sure I was acting like a spoiled little girl.“What have you inside? Is it really magic? Or dragons. Do you have small dragons inside? Can I pet them? Would it be OK if I’d took one?” Dammit, I really needed to learn when to shut up.

“HA! Not such thing. But I do have very delicate cargo in there.”

“Ooh-ooh, I want to see it!”

“You do realize no one is suppose to see it, right?”

“Who I am going to tell it to?”

“Hmm, good point. OK, fine by me. I always wanted to gloat about my invention anyway.”

Hehehe, who is weird for being a loner now, mom?

I’m not sure what I expected to see inside, but crates filled with tiny jars with some kind of liquid inside wasn’t it.

“What am I looking at?”

“I still don’t have name for it, but this liquid is extremely unstable and violent.”

“Violent? How?”

“Come, I’ll show you.”

She picked up one jar and she took me away from the caravan and away from the castle. She stopped in the middle of nowhere.

“Do you see that tree?”

“Yes.”

“Now, watch this.” She threw the jar at the tree. What happened after that was simply glorious. That tiny glass vessel made a huge BOOM! A colorful smoke appeared and the tree was simply gone. Only a burning stump remained.

“WOW! That was- I mean- That thing- How?!”

“I know, right?! I created this mixture by accident when I was looking for bigger and better explosives. Who’d knew they can be make into something so small. It’s so practical!”

“Yeah, you can keep it in your pockets!”

“Eeee, I don't recommend that.”

“Why not?

“Let’s just say my colleague managed to bump into a wall.”

“I don’t get it.”

“I had to rebuild that wall.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Soon after, the whole gang came. No doubt to see the awesome fireworks. Or so I thought.

“What's happening over here?!” Bher wasn't happy.

“I just showed Co-”

“This is why I asked for a different demolition expert.” He turned to her sister, who didn't seem to be having fun neither. “We are suppose to hunt, trap and kill the monsters, about which we know nothing. We didn't even step foot outside Mewni AND your sister is already causing trouble. Deal with her, or I will!”

“Now wait a minute, I won't allow you to talk to me like that!”

“Shut up and come here!” Jawaal grabbed Tristeen’s hand and took her away.

I was at Bher’s mercy.

“Listen to me very carefully, because I'm going to tell this only once. I do not care who you are, or where you come from. Here you're just a scribe and as such you'll shut your mouth, stay behind the caravan, and the only sound I ever want to hear from you is that pen of yours scratching the paper. Do we understand each other?!”

And this was why I don’t like people so much. Especially those like him.

“Yes, sir.”

“Now get away from my sight!”

Nobody stood up for me. But then again I didn't expect them to; I'm just scribe and a girl at that. So I left the scene with my head down, thinking how stupid I was for actually thinking I could befriend some of them. Silly me.

Thankfully nothing happened after that, so without long overdue, the caravan moved to its goal: monster hunting. I, as a mere scribe, had the privilege to walk alongside the carriages, but not too close. Why, you ask? Well, according to Bher: “To not interrupt our work.” I guess it's an euphemism for “stop bothering us”. But I'm still here, still writing things down and with Mewni getting smaller behind our backs with each step, I feel confident that there’ll be something interesting to write soon enough.

That was the plan anyway. In 3 days, nothing happened. It wasn't just the lack of interesting things, it was the absence of any activity whatsoever. We passed Mewni’s borders two days ago, so I expected something to happen, considering the rumors about the outside world. But the truth was that the land here is just like the one we left behind. That means trees, grass, typical nature sounds, some hills on the horizon, and so forth. In other words, boredom everywhere as eyes can see.

There was one good thing though. I found out what Spikee’s function was: he was our trapper. I've never actually seen one in action before, but his methods looked a bit unconventional to me. I know, it was important to track down the monsters, but tasting dirt of the ground was just too much for me. I mean, how could he possibly learn anything from eating mud?

“They're only a day away from us, maybe less.”

Wait, what?

Bher wasn't exactly keen on publicly expressing his emotions, but I sensed in his voice a hint of excitement. “We need to speed up.”

Wait, WHAT?!

“Uhm, boss, we can't go any faster with the scribe still walking… And writing.”

Aww, Windblower, you care about me.

“I mean, I don't care what happens to her, but I don't think they'd take well to her disappearance.”

Now that was just cold.

“Bah, fine! She can sit next to Tristeen. But you'll both be silent, you hear me?”

Oh she heard him alright. Not a single word came out of her mouth. Heck, she didn't even look at me. I have no idea what her sister told her back then, but it was like sitting next to a completely different person that so just happened to have the same name. The awkwardness of this situation hit me like a brick and kept smothering me the entire time I was forced to sit next to her.

Lucky me.

And the luck continued to deliver throughout the entire day! First, one of the wheels broke. Luckily, they had proper tools to fix it. Unfortunately it took them almost 3 hours. The fearless leader didn't show any sign of emotional response, as usual. He remained stoic even after our carriage got stuck in a fresh mud, left by nearby rain. He just stood there, watching, looking like he was assessing the situation, but I knew better: his nerves had to be twisting into themselves trying to suppress the urge to hurt someone. And when that rain decided to revisit its old stomping ground, I was sure he's gonna chew his own arm off.

The rain that hit is us quick and hard wasn't like anything I've seen before. It was thick, fast, heavy and relentless. There wasn't a single sign on the sky that'd suggest it'll pass anytime soon. Dark clouds enclosed the small forest between horizons and they meant to stay there just for the sake of making our lives unpleasant. And if that was their true intention, then they were doing an excellent job.

That rain was so loud that they had to yell at each other. “WE CAN'T CONTINUE IN THIS WEATHER!” shouted Spikee. “WE HAVE TO STAY FOR THE NIGHT AND HOPE THIS RIDICULOUS RAIN WILL STOP!”

It was obvious that Bher wasn't exactly happy about this proposal. “NO! WE HAVE TO PRESS ON!”

“BOSS, I'D LOVE TO SLAUGHTER THEM AS THE NEXT GUY…”

Which wasn't me, just to make things clear.

“... BUT IF WE GO FURTHER IN THIS DREADFUL WEATHER, WE WILL GET LOST!”

“THAT'S WHY WE HAVE YOU!”

“THIS WASN'T EXACTLY A STROLL THROUGH THE PARK AND YOU KNOW IT! THEY HAD TO REALIZE WE'RE ON TO THEM AND ONCE THEY DID, THEY STARTED TO COVER THEIR TRACKS. SINCE YESTERDAY, FIGURING OUT WHERE THEY WERE HEADING WAS EXTREMELY DIFFICULT. EVEN IF THERE WERE ANY TRACKS AHEAD OF US AT ALL, THIS CRAZY RAIN DESTROYED THEM FIVE MINUTES IN! I MIGHT TRY SOMETHING IN THE MORNING, IF THE RAIN WILL STOP UNTIL THEN. BUT RIGHT NOW WE'RE PINNED DOWN.”

It was really difficult to remember all of those things he said, since I couldn't write anything at that time. But I managed to surprise myself! Yay!

As I am writing this in the comfort of Tristeen’s steel carriage, I couldn’t help but wonder if all this hassle was really necessary. I mean, I get that what Eclipsa did wasn’t to the taste of general public, but she was already dealt with. So why go through all this trouble just to catch a few monsters that were obviously not interested one bit in Mewni? Something isn’t right about this. Or maybe I’m just thinking too much.

Whatever the case is, Bher eventually agreed, although reluctantly, to camp here. In the middle of nowhere. And by nowhere I mean literally nowhere: these were uncharted lands. No one from Mewni ever visited this place and by its looks I’d say it’s because it has nothing of value to offer. Though, for me personally, having this secluded piece of land just for myself would be a great asset.

Anyway, the rain outside is still at its full force. Normally, I’d be happy for the chance to fall asleep with rain gently washing the hard cold stone of the castle. But this ain’t a stone castle and that thing out there isn’t normal rain. As it turned out, when a large number of droplets of water hits something made of steel, it creates this annoying, unpleasant and loud sound. Oh yeah and one more thing: IT MAKES IT IMPOSSIBLE TO SLEEP!!! Which makes it more surprising to see Tristeen sleeping like a baby. How on Mewni is she doing that?!

“She made me promise not to talk to you.”

So it seems that even she is not impervious to that loud crap.

“What?”

“My sister. She forced me to ignore you. Which I was strongly opposed to, because you look like a cool girl and, well… you know.”

“I really don’t.”

“Let’s just say my sister can hurt with words a lot more than with medications.”

“I know that feeling.” But the truth was - I didn’t. Everything was always handed to me. The only thing I ever need to do is to say “I want this!” and I got it. It was cool when I was little, because I thought everybody loved me, that I’m important. But as I got older, I realized that I got all those things simply because I was privileged. And as far as my importance went, I learned that I was merely a tool as a mean to an end. My childhood died that day.

“I’m really sorry.”

“Nah, it’s OK. I’m kinda used to it.”

“But you shouldn’t be.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a lot of things that shouldn’t be.”

“No!” As she swiftly sat down, her black hair unraveled like a neglected bush. Quite an interesting sight, let me tell you. “What are you smiling at?”

“Your, pfff-” Every time she moved her head, her hair assembled itself into a new shape. It was hilarious! “Your hair.” I tried so hard not to burst into loud laughter. Not that anyone would hear it in that rain.

“Oh. Yeah, they’re hard to manage.” As she was trying to adjust them, they continued to dance around her hand.

I couldn’t hold myself together anymore. “HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” I didn’t laugh like this for a long time. It felt good. “I’m sorry, I just- I never saw anyone with such huge…”

“Bush?”

“HAHAHAHA! Yeah. It looks exactly like that.”

“That isn’t funny.”

“Oh. I uhm, I didn’t mean- I thought that you-”

“I’m just playing with ya! HA! But seriously, don’t laugh at my hair in front of people. It’s humiliating.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t. Besides, I didn’t see you with the... ehm, construct on your head in day light.”

“I have a secret way to keep them together during the day.”

“Seeecret? Do tell! Please tell me!”

“Why would you need to know it? You hair looks great! They enhance your beautiful blue eyes.”

Ever since my Mewberty incident, I tried to avoid awkward situations at all costs. And I was pretty darn good at it too. But this situation was different. Not only wasn't it me who caused it, but for the first time ever I heard a genuine compliment. I just wasn’t sure what exactly made me feel awkward: the compliment itself, or the fact it came from a girl.

But it also could be the sudden realization that I didn’t mind it at all. And perhaps this would mean something, if things didn’t get hairy from this onward.

“I-”

“Shhhhhhh!” I put finger on her lips to suggest that I heard something other than rain outside. Apparently she didn’t get the memo, because she instantly started blushing. Looking back at it, this situation would require a lot of explaining. But I was so caught up in the mysterious sound that I didn’t pay attention to her reaction.

“What is it?”

“You didn’t hear it?”

“Hear what?”

“I’m not sure.”

“That’s just rain.”

“I know how rain sounds like. I was listening to it for hours. This was something dif- There is it again!”

Tristeen was obviously trying to hear it too. Fruitlessly. “I can’t hear anything.”

“Oh come on! That stupid rain is making this ridiculously annoying sound for so long I became sensitive to the slightest sound changes. Heck, I could even hear your bones cracking when you were turning over in your sleep.”

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t hear anything.”

Just a mere second after she finished her sentence, a light scratching noise came from the back of carriage.

“I am NOT imaging things!”

“Now THAT I heard.”

We both looked at locked doors. They didn’t seem to be moving.

“What do you think it is?” I tried to ask with as much confidence I could moisture in this situation.

“I don’t know. And I don't think I want to know.”

I turned my head to her with amazement. “What kind of demolition expert are you anyway?”

“Hey! Just because I like to blow stuff, and occasionally people, up, that doesn’t mean I’m so kind of killing machine. If I can clearly see the target and I have explosives with me, I’m fine.”

“But you have crates of them!”

“Yes. And where are those crates at?”

“What do you mean? They’re right here, with… Oh.”

“Oh indeed.”

So I’m not a bright thinker when my mind has to work under stress.

“Should we go to check it out?” Why do you look so surprised? I was the scribe!

“You’re joking, right?”

“If only. Stay here. I’m going out.”

“No! Stay!” She grabbed my hand.

“Look, I don’t want to go neither, but I have to. I write about this stuff, remember?”

She tightened her grip. “I won’t tell anyone. Stay in here with me. Please!” A true hero right there.

During this heart crushing demonstration of crippling fear, the scratching noise got a lot louder and the carriage started to shake a little.

“On second thought, I might stay here with you. At least for a while.”

She jumped to me and started to furiously cuddle with me, while her eyes were erratically jumping from one place to another. Ladies and gentlemen, the best demolition expert in Mewni. (Between you and me, I never cuddled with anyone before and it felt… good.)

Terrified to death, we didn’t get much sleep that night. We dozed off maybe for an hour, but our fears prevented us to have good night sleep. So when Jawaal opened the door in the morning, she saw two exhausted and scared girls hugging each other. She took it lightly.

“Whatever. Grab your gear and get out, we’ll be soon on our way.”

I looked at her and she looked at me.

“Is it over?” Her voice was still shaking.

“I think so.” And so was mine, though in my case it was more from exhaustion than from fear.

“The sun is up, so it I think it’s over.”

The sun wasn’t up. At least not how I expected it to be. You see, after that horrible rain, a fog surrounded us. White, creamy fog. But one thing still didn’t change since the night: we couldn’t see anything farther than 2 meters.

Windblower tried to up the mood. “At least the rain is over.”

And Spikee ruined it all right after that. “That won’t do us much good when we still can’t see crap. Let me see if I can pick their tracks again. I’ll go check up ahead.”

Bher was in his typical cheerful mood. “In the meantime we will prepare the caravan.”

I looked down at my feet dugged in fresh mud. “Guys, you’re not gonna believe what happened to us last night!”

“I don’t give a crap on what you have to say! Now get to your position!”

I was hoping that Tristeen would tell them. As I was moving away from the group, I looked back at her and I doubted my hypothesis. She was looking back at me with those sad eyes like hurt puppies. Maybe she’ll tell it to Jawaal?

“Stop embarrassing me and get yourself together!”

Nope.

By the looks of it, we were the only two who experienced it. Which made it that more unsettling. Why would it target only us? This reminded me to check the carriage. We both heard the scratching, so there should’ve been scratching marks. And there they were, running on both sides. What could do this?

After yelling at her sister as a supportive sibling should, Jawaal started to look around.

“Shouldn’t Spikee be back by now?”

Windblower joined the search. “I don't see him neither. HEY MAN! DID YOU FIND ANYTHING IN THERE?” His voice was really loud. But no response came back. “I'll go check on him.”

Bher had a different idea. “No, I'll go. You help with preparations.” His tall figure disappeared in the mist.

“Alright then. You guys have everything packed? You too, girl?”

I was buried so deep within my thoughts that I didn't realize he was talking to me. To be fair, no one has addressed me as girl before.

“Hmm?”

“I asked if you have everything packed.”

“Oh! I uhm… yes, I do. I'm ready.”

“Good girl.” I wouldn't mind him calling me like that, if it didn't sound so creepy.

When the rain hit, we didn't have much time to unpack much, so we were prepared to get going rather quickly.

Five minutes have passed and there was no sign of either Spikee, nor Bher.

“Where are they?!” Jawaal was getting angry.

“Wait, did you hear that?” Windblower pointed out to his right side. “I could swear I heard something.”

“I didn't hear anything. Did you?” Jawaal turned to her sister. Still shaken, she just nodded her head.

“I definitely heard something. And it came from there.”

“WATCH OUT!” I was the first who noticed an object flying our way. It come from the opposite direction. It flew right passed us and hit one of the carriages. It was Spikee. Or rather what was left of him; his head was missing. I never saw a dead body before, so naturally I ran away to go puking. Tristeen followed me shortly after.

“Damn! A perfect decapitation. There is barely any blood. What could have done this?”

“Animal?”

“Animals don't decapitate, idiot. Someone did this.”

As I was emptying the contents of my stomach, I couldn't help but notice faint voices all around us. It was hard to pinpoint their exact locations, but they were there, circling around us.

“Don't be ridiculous! There is no one out there. We're-”

In that very moment, everyone thought about the same thing: we were no longer hunters in this scenario. We just became the prey. And before anyone could say or do anything, a steel hook sprung out of the mist and pierced Windblower's chest. The metal contraption resting there for a solid second or two. We all knew what was going to happen.

“Oh for…!”

The hook retracted, ripping his heart out. His body was still standing for a few more seconds, but he was pretty much dead at that point. The moment his brain accepted its fate, the body dropped like a bag of corn. There was a high possibility that I would puke some more, but the fast pace of horrifying events has locked me in paralyzing fear. I couldn't do anything but watch.

“This doesn't bode well.” Jawaal focused her sight at a single point in the fog. Logically speaking, her behavior made sense. But it all went for naught when a wire reached her neck from behind, it was clear that logic wasn't on the menu. She touched the thin cable cutting part of her finger.

“Oh, so that’s how-” Before she was able to finish her thought, the wire stretched itself and with a swift movement cut her head off. Her body followed it almost immediately.

In just ten minutes, the team of five has shrunk into a single person - Tristeen. I looked at her and wanted to shout, but I was too slow. In retrospect I think I could have just gone to her instead of yelling, but it was done. Two hands with really huge nails came from behind the poor girl’s back and landed on her belly. She looked at me with sad eyes, defeated eyes.

“Corona? I-” All eight nails dug deep into her flesh and opened her stomach wide open. All her guts dropped out like a meat soup. Tristeen suffered the most.

The person to which those nails belonged shook the excessive blood out of its hands and started walking towards me. I was in shock and couldn't move. I was staring directly into the eyes of death.

“You're next.” Its voice was even more horrible than its looks. It didn't even bother to go through my ears and just went through my skull. “Chop chop, bi-”

“STOP!”

It wasn't alone. Two more monsters leaved the mist and were walking towards me. I wanted to start running away so badly, but I was unable to.

“I told you several times that the scribe should NOT be harmed in any way.”

“I don't take orders from you!”

“That's right. But if I remember correctly, they were the same orders from the general as well, am I right?”

This obviously enraged the female creature.

“Go display your tantrum elsewhere. I'm not interested.”

After she left the scene, the apparent leader of her turned his attention to me. I didn't like that.

“And how are we today, young scribe? Or should I say - your highness? As I understand it, if the current queen is gone, her daughter picks the the mantle. Are you the queen yet?”

I don't remember why, but I nodded with my head to confirm his inquiry.

“Well then, congratulations are due, Corona Butterfly.” He knew me. He knew my name. How? Was I a popular topic among monsters perhaps? “Hmm, you really do look like your mother. Especially those eyes. Speaking of which, is she OK?”

I couldn't answer, because millions of my own questions were running through my mind.

“Speechless, I see? No matter. I guess you're wondering who am I? Does this ring a bell?”

It took me a while to understand what he was showing me. I was staring at his raised left hand for what looked to me like an eternity. Eventually it hit me - it wasn't the hand that he was showing me. It was the golden ring on it. This realization worked like a cold shower.

“A-Are you… Him?”

“Clever girl! Yes, I am him. I won't bother telling you my name, because, frankly, it would be pointless. In any case, know this: we killed your companions because they were here to kill us. Typical Mewmen, full of themselves, thinking they are the rulers even of the land far away from their homeland. This is the price of such folly beliefs!” His companion threw a torso of a body from behind his back directly to my feet. “Not so fearless anymore, isn't he?”

He was a jerk, but he didn't deserve this.

“You're probably asking yourself why you’re still alive. Maybe we just want to play with you a little bit before we chop you into pieces?” He was obviously enjoying seeing me scared to death. “While it is true that this idea did cross my mind, it ain't the reason why you're still breathing. I know very well why you wanted to be the scribe on this particular expedition. You wanted to know why she left you. And my answer to that is: ask your mother. Oh, but you can't, right? Bummer. You are a victim of your own heritage and you don't even know it. Hmph! Anyway, I don't personally hold you accountable for their actions, or the actions of your people. And also because I made a promise to your mother. She actually wanted you to join her someday. I guess we will never know now, won't we?”

After he finished his long speech, he turned around and started walking away. But before he vanished in the fog, he looked at me one last time and said this:

“Send my regards to your father.” He took off the ring and dropped it.

And with that, he was gone. Together with the fog. I was left alone and shaken in untouched nature with the caravan and mutilated bodies all over the place. It took me a while to calm down, but after I did, reality sipped in and I cried for tens of minutes. Uncontrollably and without pause.

After all that, there was nothing left for me to do, than to bury my retinues. It was the least I could do for them. I left them behind in their last resting place, took the carriage and set off home.

The monsters were finally gone.

Eclipsa was staring at the last sentence for a good minute. “I had no idea. About anything. And by the looks of it not even about my own daughter. I always thought that Corona was distant, but she was just… weird. I wish I could tell her how sorry I am for misunderstanding her. Now it’s 300 years too late, I guess.” She sighed. “Well, at least he got away.” But a sudden blow of air revealed another page. “What’s this? I don’t remember journals having epilogues.” She turned the page.

Hi mom! I bet you’re really surprised that I addressed you specifically. How do I know it’s you? Funny story. I discovered this hidden chamber by accident. No, seriously, I didn’t even know it existed. It’s not like you told me about it, right? Anyway, when I entered it, the first thing that came to my attention was that specific smell of your perfume. To my amazement it was still strong, even though you set foot in here almost 17 years ago! You sure knew how to pick good stuff for yourself. I wish I learned that from you.

Anyhow, my first thought was to rebuild it so that my little sweetheart could study here when she grows up. Wait, didn’t I tell you? I’m a mom now. And you are a grandma! Ta-da! Isn’t that great? Her name is Solaria and I’m always there for her. Sometimes maybe too much, but that’s what mothers do, am I right? At any rate, after giving it serious thought, I came to the conclusion that it’d be better to just leave it as it is. I don’t expect you’ll ever visit this place again, but knowing you… Well, let’s just say I learned not to underestimate you. They don’t call you Queen of Darkness for nothing, isn’t that so?

Either way, I have decided that I’ll use this place as a time capsule. Now the question is what would I want to tell you after all the stuff you read in my journal, right? Well, it’s actually a hilarious tale. It goes like this: What you just read about your dear monster lover wasn’t exactly true. The story that went public had a happy ending, in which the entire crew survived and went living somewhere nice. But I kept the true ending just for you. I know what you’re going to say, princesses shouldn’t lie. But you see, I wasn’t a Princess when I went to hunt with them. I was a queen. A Queen of Mewni! Because you decided that ditching me and dad was a good idea. Well guess what: wrong call. I grew up without my mother. It took me years, long, hard years before I fixed myself, so I could start my own family. But here is the kicker: less than a year after you left us, dad killed himself.

I bet you must feel really proud about yourself right now, knowing that you achieved your goal. You managed to break a man that, for a reason I can’t fathom, decided to invest his whole life, his whole heart in you. I guess you felt he wasn’t good enough. He surely did, because he hanged himself in conviction that he had failed YOU. Are you laughing right now? Because I am. But not for the same reasons. You see, what really happened in that forest was that after he mentioned dad, I got a little carried away.

I felt I had to express my feelings of him mentioning my father. So, I found the best way to let my emotions out of my heart. You know, like you did for papa. I ran to Tristeen’s carriage, took out an entire crate of her explosive liquid and I threw it at him with all my heart. And let me tell you, my heart didn’t feel this happy for a long time. It brought me so much joy seeing that the only thing you ever loved was now a combination of dust and smoke. Even writing it brings a smile to my face. Isn’t that great? Well, I guess that’s all I wanted to say to you. There is nothing else I’m afraid. Wait... No, no, there is one thing, the last thing you’ll ever see from me:

WE ARE EVEN, MOTHER!

Eclipsa closed the book. Really slowly, almost gently. The air in the chamber started to heat up.

“Get out.”

“Is something wrong, milady?”

“I SAID GET OUT!!!”

Laar saw Eclipsa pissed many times before. However this time was different. For once, he was actually afraid of his own life.

“I’m going!” He couldn’t possibly run in the narrow tunnel, but he lost some blood while trying to do so.

And while Laar was trying to save his life from an explosion that could very well destroy the whole castle, Eclipsa was losing it. Back in the crypt, she thought she’d lost everything. However here she knew she’d lost everything. Even worse, she lost it by the hand of her own daughter. Anger and sorrow was fueling her rage that was harvesting all the dark magic she could gather. In this case the source was almost infinite and it ran deep. The wand at this point was glowing like a sun, ready to explode like one as well. She was ready and willing to wipe out the Butterfly lineage from the face of the planet.

“Star, wait!”

The voice was carrying itself down the hall.

“No! Marco, I’m done waiting!” Her voice spiked around the castle undergrounds. “I thought, I thought that you were my friend!”

“You’re mad at me! The emotional strain that-!” He tried to defend himself to no avail.

“I don’t want to hear it! I-I thought that you would… that you would at least respect my feelings! But all you do is tramper over them!” Faint sobbing is heard. “You fear me! You fear my affection! I’m tired of it!”

“I’m, ugh, we don’t have time for this Star!”

“You know what I saw in that tapestry? Something worth chasing, a friend that I could call a lover! You know what I see in front of me? A scared little boy, that doesn’t dare to let go of his prize! At this point I think she deserves better too, better than someone who kisses their best friend and decides to stay silent about it!” The roar visibly shocked Marco, more than what Star had expected.

“How do you- HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT TH-” The seeping fire was washed out by the sobbing Star.

“We’ll go to the stupid Silver Bell Ball! Okay? We’re going cause I’m expected to. Oh princess Star, always gets what she wants, look at her dancing with her true love!” She pranced around mockingly. “Well I don’t, do I! Can’t even get a best friend who can accept that my feelings exist!”

The door slammed, leaving just silence in both the hallway and the chamber. Eclipsa was intrigued. “Silver Bell Ball?” She was still panting quite heavily, but the idea of the ball got her attention. “Yes.” She grinned with the malice of a snake. “Yes!” She took her wand and calmly entered the tunnel. “I’ll show them the true meaning of suffering and pain.” Her voice was getting fainter by each second. “I’ll get my revenge on the Butterflies!” After that, the room remained silent as it was for over 300 years before.

Except this time it didn’t last long. A bright flash of white light accompanied by a buzz sound consumed the whole room for just a second. After that it was silent again. This silence however lasted even less.

A huge, heavy book fell on the ground, lifting clouds of dust after impact. The book itself was ornamented with all kind of jewels and markings, with several pages sticking out. Order clearly wasn’t its strong point. The weirdest thing about it was that it was making sound.

“Kch-kch-kch”

But we all know that books can’t make sounds. Right? Right, because it wasn’t the book itself making those sounds. It was the little blue man that fell out of it. Which, in retrospects, sounds a lot weirder.

“Wha-kch-kch-what just happened? Where am I?” He inspected the chamber he was in. “Oh, hmm, the hidden-kch-chamber. Yes, I know where I am. The mystery is how I got here.” He then proceeded to inspect the book. “Hmm. Yes. Yes. Interesting.” He was poking it from all directions, as if he half-expected to it to come alive. “Yeah, no. How did I get back? I shouldn't be here, right? I mean… I was… There… Helping… And now… Hmm.” The little blue man looked confused. “Well, I guess something happened for some reason. I mean, who am I to judge?”

Out of the blue, the book got restless. It was shaking, even jumping, almost like something was trying to get out.

“OK, now this shouldn’t be happening.”

The book was abruptly opened and it started listing itself through countless pages filled with texts and pictograms. It stopped when it reached a single blank page. It was simmering for some reason.

“Oh boy, this isn’t good.”

The blank page ripped itself out and swiftly went right through locked doors… with solid stone on the other side like if it was butter.

He closed the book and jumped right on it. “Up! We have to follow it!” The book went through the solid stone wall like a bullet, leaving a huge mess in its wake.

Ripped out pieces of paper were moving in a way that no pieces of paper should, ripped out or otherwise. It was swift, elegant and lightning fast, with no sound to speak of. The tiny dude flying on a book, a scene like from a movie which we can’t name because of copyright infringement, was anything but.

“Sorry. Sorry again. Oops. Out of the way, ladies!”

“Glossaryck?!”

“We’ll talk later, your highness! Now, where did it go? I lost it from my sight. No matter, I know where it went. I just really hope I’m wrong this time.”

He parked the book in front of a slightly opened door. A faint light was emanating from the tapestry room. It surely looked the exact way he thought it would. He slipped through the gap. It didn’t take him long to find what he really didn’t want to find there: he was standing in front of a finished tapestry of an unknown queen.

“Anima.”

#star vs the forces of evil #fanfic #hidden truth #eclipsa butterfly #corona butterfly #laar #glossaryck

[quinzelade]

By No Constraint (chpt 57)

SS x Danse

Chapter List

Thanks to my amazing beta, waiting4morning, for her wonderful work! Thanks to Musashi1596 for the title.

Major Brotherhood/Danse spoilers.

Want update alerts? Follow this story on FFnet or Ao3.

--

Goodbye

--

“What a goddamn mess.” Rachel turned her gaze from the bodies littering the floor to the great, sweeping vistas of the Institute. The trees and grass were burning, and scorch marks left a chaotic pattern on the walls of the towers. The glass floor was cracked and covered in blood. Some human. Most of it synth.

Quinn didn’t answer the knight-sergeant. She only had eyes for Casey.

Bantios hadn’t moved from Casey’s side throughout the entire fight. He was covered in cuts, bruises, and burns from where the synths had tried to pick him off, only for them to be brought down by the circling Carson.

Quinn knew it was fruitless. Although laser burns generally weren’t that severe, Casey had been caught in the face at close range by a courser. She suspected their weapons were better than standard synth rifles, and judging from Casey’s lack of movement, this suspicion was probably truth.

The second the last synth had fallen, Carson had abandoned his armour and returned to Casey’s side. No one had tried to stop him—not even Maxson. Instead, an uneasy look flickered amongst the seasoned soldiers, conveying the silent message.

Casey was dying.

How long she had left, no one knew. But it was impossible to pass from initiate to knight without losing someone along the way. Quinn wondered which loved one had been snatched from each and every soldier—a friend? A partner? A child?

Rachel hovered at Quinn’s side, watching with a blank expression as Bantios passed empty syringes and stimpaks to Carson. Bantios took the lilac-tinged gel he had just made and carefully applied it to Casey’s face.

Rachel turned away, helping the other scribes move the rest of the injured. The dead were left untouched.

Quinn stood rooted to the spot. Afraid to hesitate. Afraid to proceed. She was about to lose someone she cared about—did she really want another horrific death etched into her brain? Deacon’s eyes were already pushing her to the limit.

Finally, she took a deep breath and slowly walked over, her feet loud in the quiet ruins of the facility. As soon as she saw Casey’s wounds, Quinn wished she’d kept her distance.

Her left eye was completely gone. The remains dripping down her blistered, weeping skin, stripped raw on one side, while a good section of her hair was burned away.

Bantios didn’t look much better up close. He was pale and glistening, his own eyes intact and determined. The front of his uniform was badly charred around the midriff, but he seemed unconcerned, his hands shaking. Other scribes flitted around him, preoccupied with their own patients.

There was a surprisingly low body count, all things considered. If Quinn didn’t know better, she would have thought the Institute were caught unawares. Clearly Shaun hadn’t expected this deception from her.

Ingram’s voice crackled over the intercom.

“Paladin, we’ve located the reactor. It’s accessible through the Advanced Systems division. Only...you can’t reach it. The security override can only come from the Director’s terminal. You’ll need to access his quarters.”

His quarters? Oh God. Shaun.

“Ready when you are, ma’am.”

Quinn turned to see Rachel Marguerie at her elbow, a sombre Carson getting to his feet as Bantios continued with Casey. He dragged himself over, looking crushed, but still prepared to move.

“Both of you stay here,” Quinn said. She wouldn’t allow them to come with her. Not for this moment.

“But—”

“I said no.” Quinn reloaded her rifle and lowered her voice. “My son...he’ll be up there. I need to...I want to see him alone.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rachel hissed.

“You of all people should understand the lengths a parent will go for their child.”

The knight-sergeant looked as if Quinn had slapped her, her face going chalk white. Quinn was too far gone to care.

“Carson,” she said, filling the stunned silence, “go back to Casey and help Bantios look after her. Rachel, help deal with the dead and injured. We need to keep things moving. They’ve thrown a good chunk of their forces at us just now, so I highly doubt there will be much resistance.”

“You’re going to the director’s office. Of course there’ll be resistance!” Rachel had found her voice again, her cheeks blotting with indignant colour. “Let us help you!”

“I’ve given you your orders, now do it!”

Every head in the vicinity turned to look at them, including Elder Maxson’s. Rachel stood on the spot, her face burning—from anger or embarrassment, Quinn didn’t know. Would Rachel tell Maxson what Quinn was planning, or would she bow to her rank?

Rachel’s scowl deepened, but she nodded. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“Noted. Dismissed, knight-sergeant.”

Rachel gave her a jerky salute and marched away. Quinn waited until she was some distance from her, and then walked over to the elevator. She had just reached the controls when Maxson himself stopped her.

“You’re going alone, Paladin?”

Was that concern in his voice?

“Yes, sir,” Quinn replied, standing to attention. “I believe it will be easier to get through alone. They’ll focus their attention on the biggest threat, leaving me free to reach the terminal.”

Maxson frowned, obviously mulling her plan over in his head. But then he let go of her arm and stepped back, picking up his weapon again. “Ad victoriam, sister.”

“Ad victoriam, sir.” Quinn summoned the elevator, quickly forcing herself inside. her power armour just about fitting. There was a beep as the glass doors slid shut, and then she was lowered into the ground. Her friends watched from afar as Quinn disappeared out of sight.

Within seconds, she reached her destination. Stepping out of the elevator, Quinn deactivated it, just in case Rachel got any ideas about using a stealth boy and following. Then she walked through the maintenance corridors, vaguely remembering the way as she strode through the area she had first met Shaun, his synth clone trapped and terrified behind glass. Terrified of her.

Quinn’s stomach turned at the memory, but she continued on, steeling herself for their final encounter. She made her way into the next room, the decor changing from harsh yellows and off-whites to a series of subtle, soothing greys. Her heart raced harder with every step she took up the polished stairs, her armour making her progress bang.

And then there was Shaun.

He was lying in some sort of pod—a bed, she thought. His face was gaunt and ashen, his features in their usual blank arrangement. Even when Quinn left her armour, there was no trace of upset or surprise. He just stared at her, almost resigned in his mannerisms. Had he known of her betrayal after all?

“I didn’t expect to see you again.” Same monotone voice. Same calm expression.

Quinn licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. “The Institute had to be stopped, Shaun.”

He looked less than impressed with this answer. “And you’ve decided this for yourself? Or has it been fed to you by the corrupt societies above ground?” The blankness turned to anger. “It’s not enough that I lay here dying. Now you plan on...what? Destroying everything?”

Dying?

Quinn felt her mouth drop open, but she barely noticed. Her world was constricting, her breath caught in her throat as her heartbeat roared in her ears. She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. Despite it all, despite what she had left for Danse on that tape, Quinn had hoped there would be a way to get Shaun out. None of the Brotherhood knew who he was, after all.

Shaun took advantage of her silence. “Tell me, then. Under what righteous pretence have you justified this atrocity?”

“You’re dying?” she whispered. Even now, knowing this could be the outcome, the truth of it was too unbearable to accept. Her son. Her son.

“Answer my question,” Shaun replied, his voice tight and harsh. “Then I will answer yours.”

“I…” Quinn shut her eyes, trying to unfog her thoughts. He was dying. Why? How? The Institute was supposed to be the pinnacle of technology. Could they have saved him if she hadn’t led the attack? “I…”

“Why have you done this?”

The crack of his tone was enough to bring her back. Quinn shook her head and glared at him. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

For a moment, Shaun looked taken aback. But she didn’t give him a chance to speak.

“Corrupt societies? They’re just human beings trying to get by in this shithole of a world that you keep them in. You’ve barely walked amongst those people, Shaun. You just sit down here, deciding their fates for them while keeping the science that could improve their lives for yourself. Kidnapping them. Killing them. Mutating them into monstrosities and then releasing them back into the Commonwealth.”

“Ah, you found that old division, did you?” He didn’t seem bothered that she had learned such a dirty secret. On the contrary, he sounded curious. It filled her with a rage enough to drown out the mounting grief.

“Yes, I did. And I know you did nothing to stop it,” Quinn spat. “But even then, that doesn’t touch onto what you’ve done with the synths. You’ve creating living, breathing people, and you treat them no better than objects. I’ve found out firsthand the pain you cause them!”

A knowing look flickered across Shaun’s face. “M7-97?”

“Don’t call him that.” Her voice was sharp, and he looked surprised. She didn’t care. “His name is Danse. He’s a person, not a machine or an experiment. The same with your...replica.”

“I remember you telling me you would treat the child as though he were a human.” A faint smile played on his lips. “I’m glad to see there is now evidence for that.” He shifted in his bed and winced, his face taking on a dark look. “Your new companions will kill you both if they ever find out M7...Danse survived.”

“Maybe they will. But I’ll take as many of them as I can with me. He’s human, just like the rest of the synths. The Brotherhood’s desire to kill them is wrong.”

“You annihilated their biggest protector.” Suddenly he wore a nasty smirk. “The Railroad. You allowed us to reclaim many of our lost units once they were out of the picture. I’d intended to thank you, before all of this took place.”

“You disgust me.”

The words were out before she could stop them. Once again, Shaun looked stunned, but Quinn felt no regrets.

“It’s hard to believe I’m related to you,” Shaun said, his voice rough with anger. For the first time since she had met him, he looked truly furious, wearing a scowl worthy of Quinn herself. Then it was gone, and the unsettling blank returned.

“Well, none of it matters now. You’ll accomplish your task and ruin humanity’s best hope for the future. The only question then is why you’re still standing here. Is it regret, or did you just come to gloat?”

Quinn hugged herself as she stared at him, feeling the tears well up in her eyes. “I want to save you.”

“Save me? Why on earth would you do that?”

“You’re my son. I love you.”

Shaun stared at her for what felt like an age. Finally, he said, “How can you claim to love me after what has transpired? You have said yourself you are against all that I stand for, all that I believe in. And now you are here, making sure everything I hold dear burns.”

“Because that’s what love is,” Quinn replied, trying desperately to hold eye contact with him. “This has been hardest decision I have ever had to make, because I love you. But this can’t go on. You’ve hurt too many people. You had to be stopped, for the good of everyone in the Commonwealth.”

She paused.

“I’m just sorry I couldn’t help you before it got to this point. You became the man that you are, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. I failed you. But no matter what, you’re still my son. I will always love you. Even if you don’t love me. Even if you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” Shaun murmured. He closed his eyes and sighed. “I don’t hate you.”

“Then come with me,” Quinn said. “I’ll find a way to get you past the Brotherhood. Claim you were a prisoner, or—”

“As I said, I am dying.” He still hadn’t opened his eyes. “Cancer. I have already been told by my finest staff that there is nothing that can be done. Leaving with you would only prolong my suffering. And...I cannot go to...I don’t want…”

“You’re afraid of the outside world.”

Shaun nodded, and Quinn felt her heart break. There was nothing to be done. She couldn’t stay, as much as she wanted to. But the idea of leaving him to die alone in this godforsaken place was too much. She bowed her head, suffocating in her misery as she dug her nails into her hands, trying to stop herself falling over the edge.

“I can’t just leave you here!” she gasped, the tears now flowing freely. Shaun finally opened his eyes as he looked at her, alarmed, but quickly recovered himself.

“This is of your own making,” he replied coolly. “Go.”

Quinn didn’t move. It was wrong. It all felt so wrong. She glanced down at her Pip-Boy and knew what she had to do.

Quinn opened the holotape compartment, removed Nate’s precious recording, and handed it to Shaun.

He stared at it, frowning. “This is…?”

“Yes.”

“But...?”

“I can’t be with you until the end.” Quinn sniffed. “But your father can. It’s what he would have wanted. It’s what I want, too. So please, take it.”

“This is precious to you.”

She gave a small nod, but didn’t answer. She couldn’t answer. She was afraid she might crumble if she did.

Shaun held it out to her. “Put it in my terminal. I can control it from here.”

Quinn obeyed, his skin warm and worn as they briefly brushed hands. She walked over to his computer and inserted the tape, before going over the options. There was an evacuation order on it.

“Shaun…”

“Yes?”

“The Brotherhood...they have control of the teleporter. And they have some of your staff as well. They tried to kill them, but I intervened. I think Maxson is going to interrogate them, though...and after that, I don’t know. Is there a way to evacuate the rest of your people entirely without them falling into the Brotherhood’s hands?”

“Why would you tell me this?”

“I don’t want to hurt anyone I don’t have to. They’re scientists, not soldiers. They don’t pose a threat. They don’t need to die.”

There was a long pause. Eventually, he said, “You continue to surprise me, Mother.”

Mother. He had called her mother.

Without thinking, Quinn reached out to him, wanting to touch him. To hold her son. Shaun recoiled from her, wearing a look of uncertainty, and Quinn let her arms drop. Of course there were still boundaries. His rejection stung.

“There is more than one teleporter in this facility,” he continued, glossing over the awkward moment. “We need to let them know that particular exit point is off-limits. That way they can escape.”

Quinn listened as Shaun carefully explained how to change the evacuation instructions, trusting that he wasn’t leading her into some sort of deadly trap. After all, he had nothing to lose. When she had finished his orders, the usual female voice began to speak.

“Attention all personnel. Evacuate the facility immediately. Platform YB-06 has been compromised. Please use alternative evacuation points if this affects your evacuation route. Attention all personnel. Evacuate...”

Quinn felt a stab of relief. With any luck, most of them would get away. She could argue for the ones Maxson had captured later. Quinn returned to the terminal and deactivated the lockdown that had been put in place.

Ingram’s voice rang out over the intercom. “Well done, Paladin. Looks like a path should be clear to the reactor. And I am happy to report that reinforcements have arrived.”

Quinn leaned over the terminal and sighed.

“You really don’t want to be here, do you?” Shaun asked from behind her.

She looked over her shoulder and saw he had turned around to face her. Quinn shook her head. “No.”

Shaun studied her for a moment. Then he said, “Use the access code 9003. It will disable some of the synths.”

Quinn blinked at him, but followed his directions again. The option to disable the synth units suddenly came up, no longer hidden in the system. She clicked it, and a message flashed to confirm completion.

Stepping away from the terminal, Quinn walked back to him, twisting her hands together. She was confused. Why was he helping her?

“Thank you,” she said, meeting his eye again. He was wearing a strange expression.

“You need to go,” he replied. “Just...leave me.”

“I love you, Shaun.”

“I...I believe you.”

That was as good as she was going to get. But it was enough. He understood. He knew.

Quinn got back into her power armour and left the room. As she walked past a deactivated synth standing still in the corridor, she heard the terminal whir to life. The recording she could recite from memory began to play.

“Oops, haha. Keep those little fingers away…. Ah, there we go. Just say it, right there. Right there, go ahead. Ah, yay! Hi honey…”

--

The chaos returned with Quinn. As she made her way back into the main plaza, laserfire filled the air, synths pouring out of the now opened door into the Advanced Systems sector. But not as many as the first attack. It seemed Shaun had been as good as his word.

Bantios was still with Casey. It was a bad sign she hadn’t been moved with the rest of the injured. That meant she wasn’t stable enough. Quinn kept an eye on them both throughout the duration of the fight, killing anything that got too close. Carson also remained near, almost fanatical in his efforts to stop Bantios being disturbed. When the last of the enemies had been dealt with, Carson exited his armour again and returned to Casey’s side.

Quinn bit her lip, glancing to the Advanced Systems entrance. The emptiness inside of her was being prickled by fear. They were moving out soon, and she would need Carson with her.

Carson sat in silence, following Bantios’ instructions to the letter. On and on the scribe toiled, burning through stimpaks and med-x and God knows what else. Even from this distance, Quinn could see the frantic desperation in his eyes, and knew he was thinking of Núñez.

Finally, Carson put his hand on Bantios’ arm. “Stop.”

Bantios shook his head. “No. She saved me. I have to help her. She has to live.”

“You aren’t doing her a kindness by dragging this out.” Carson stared down at Casey’s ruined face. His skin was ashy, his eyes watery as he blinked repeatedly, a muscle jumping in his tense jaw. “I’d give anything for…just stop. Please.”

Bantios said nothing. Carson took hold of Casey’s hand, pressed his lips to her fingers, and then laid her hand across her body. He observed the unsteady rise and fall of her chest, before getting to his feet and walking over to Quinn.

“I can’t watch her die,” he mumbled, answering her unspoken question. “Let’s get this over with.” He clambered into his armour without another word.

Bantios didn’t leave Casey immediately, pumping her full of stimpaks and other chems with a frown on his face. Finally, though, he stood up. But instead of joining them, he stopped Haylen, saying something to her that Quinn couldn’t hear. Haylen’s brow furrowed, but she nodded and clapped a hand on his shoulder, passing him her pistol. Bantios stowed it away in his uniform and jogged over to Quinn.

“Requesting permission to join you in the reactor, ma’am.”

“Granted.” Quinn still didn’t like the idea of him tagging along, but with Casey on her way out, they were down a scribe. He didn’t smile this time, silently falling in rank with her team.

Unlike the duration of the first few fights, the Institute suddenly felt empty. Weapons were scattered everywhere, science equipment abandoned mid-experiment. Deactivated synths stood vigil around the desolate halls, their heads bowed, their arms limp. The evacuation notice had worked.

They moved through a room filled with giant yellow tanks full of liquid, and Quinn recognised it as the area she had found Doctor Li. The area she had first spoken to the synth of Shaun. Her skin prickled with...what? Apprehension? Hope? She didn’t know. But the child was not there. Would he die down here? Had he been left behind too, deactivated and forgotten? Or had the scientists deemed him human enough to take with them? Somehow, Quinn doubted it.

Her head was swimming again. She stopped in the middle of the hallway, swaying on the spot. How could she do this? Kill her son. How could she…?

“Quinn?”

Someone shook her and the haze cleared slightly. She turned her head to see Carson, and though he was wearing his helmet, the concern in his voice was loud and clear. His hand was clamped on her shoulder, and after a second she realised she was leaning into him.

Rachel and Bantios were at the end of the corridor, watching her with grave expressions. Thankfully, Maxson and his entourage had already gone on ahead.

“One last push, Quinn,” Carson said. “One last push and it’s over. You can do this. Come on.”

Quinn stepped forward unsteadily, grasping out to her friend to stay upright. Carson took hold of her elbow and helped her walk, continuing his mutterings until the tremors ceased and the moment passed. Whatever happened, Shaun was going to die. She had known this from the moment she’d given Maxson the Institute data. And if it had to be done, then she should be the one. Her child. Her responsibility.

Quinn straightened up, gently shaking Carson off. “Let’s go.”

They caught up with Maxson in the entrance to the reactor. It was a far cry from Advanced Systems. Dirty and rough, it reminded her of the Old Robotics section. Exposed pipes lined the walls, steam hissing out from gaps in the metal, and all the machinery was covered in a thick layer of grime, oil, and grease.

The reactor was supposed to be the most important thing in the Institute—it had been referenced numerous times in the terminals she had wormed her way into. Why then was it in such a state of disrepair?

Sirens raged on as oranges lights flashed across Quinn’s vision, dazzling her. Turrets in the ceiling opened fire, their lasers simply bouncing of Quinn and Carson’s armour while Bantios and Rachel took cover behind them. A few rounds from Quinn’s combat rifle later, and they were in pieces.

As Quinn progressed deeper into the reactor, things became familiar. Old consoles that wouldn’t look out of place in a wasteland factory. Pre-war safety posters plastered everywhere. Coffee cups and tool boxes. Even a battered clock on the wall, its hand forever frozen at quarter to ten.

“This must be the oldest part of the Institute,” Quinn murmured, peering through the grimy window to the reactor below. It certainly looked like a product of her time, so different from the clean, sleek decor of the main facility. The reactor was bulky and tarnished, though clearly maintained regularly, blue light flickering from the glass panels at its door. The core of the Institute, and the foundation on which the strife of the Commonwealth had been built.

Quinn moved on. Elder Maxson walked next to her, the others marching behind. She wished he wasn’t here. She would have much preferred Carson or Rachel at her side. But when they entered the main reactor room, Quinn quickly retracted her wish as a jet of flame engulfed them. Maxson only just got out of the way, the tips of his beard on fire. Better him than one of her friends.

Again, there was a distinct lack of humans in the area. But even though most of the synths had been deactivated, some still remained. Quinn gave out a yell as fire surrounded her, and she barrelled forward, barging into a synth holding a flamethrower and sending it flying.

These synths looked odd. They wore a mixture of white and black, their faces covered by dark masks. Not coursers. Not standard units. Something...different.

The battle that followed was the fiercest yet. Only three of these strange synths alongside a pack of the usual, and yet they seemed to shrug off the damage. The normal synths went down quickly, but the three… Even Maxson looked worried.

Pain.

Quinn screamed as something white hot pierced her back, sending waves of agony shooting through her body. The HUD in her armour was going haywire, flashing overload warnings from her fusion core port. She stumbled forward and turned to see one of the strange synths with a shock baton, advancing on her.

She knew all too well that an overload would cause the fusion core to explode. That in itself would kill her, but she was carrying the damn pulse charges. They were supposed to be put directly on the Institute’s power source, but if they detonated because of her armour, they could possibly set off the reactor anyway.

“Sto—” she began, trying to warn them, but one of the others must have been lurking behind her. Quinn felt the pain again as another shock baton was jammed into the port. The warnings flashed up again as her circuitry fried, informing at her that detonation was imminent.

Then it suddenly stopped. Quinn hit the release from inside her suit, and was relieved to find it still worked. She tumbled out onto the ground, her body stinging in the aftermath, and rolled over to see that Bantios had jumped onto the synth’s back. He was hitting it with everything he had and even managed to remove its helmet, exposing its head. Oddly enough, the synth seemed to be having difficulty pulling him off.

Quinn glanced behind her to see the other two synths hadn’t noticed she was now vulnerable. One was receiving a beating from Rachel Marguerie, who appeared to be letting out her anger over Casey with her fists rather than using her weapons, and Carson and Maxson had the last cornered.

A strangled yell dragged her attention back to Bantios. Quinn turned to see the synth drive a concealed blade into his stomach, penetrating his scribe’s armour as if it were nothing but cloth.

Bantios’ eyes bulged, each following stab causing him to convulse and groan. But instead of trying to pull away, his hand reached into his robes, producing the gun Haylen had given him. Gasping horribly, Bantios pushed the barrel again the synth’s temple and pulled the trigger. Both of them crashed to the ground—one still, the other twitching.

“David!” Quinn dragged herself across the floor, her limbs still tingling with pain, and reached him. Grabbing his robes, she rolled him onto his back and shook him. Bantios continued to stare blankly at the ceiling above, red slowly oozing from his mouth.

“No. No, no, no! Fuck!” Quinn reeled away from him. His blood was everywhere. It covered his uniform, his skin, her hands…

Quinn wiped it away on the dusty floor, ignoring the sounds of battle just feet away from her. First Casey, then Bantios. Another one. She had known this was a bad idea, and yet she’d let him come along anyway.

She thought of Danse. That first night in Piper’s when he had told her about the fate of his squad.

“Each one of them died because of decisions that I made.”

Wasn’t that the damn truth? But at the same time, if Bantios hadn’t been there, she might have been killed herself, along with every Brotherhood member still in the facility. That fact hurt her more than anything else. Bantios thought he’d failed everyone he’d tried to help, when in fact he’d just saved them all. And he’d never know it.

“Ah, fuck.”

Quinn looked up to see Carson standing over her, Maxson not far behind him. The knight’s reaction echoed her own.

“Fucking shitting fuck!” Carson strode off and kicked a dead synth on the floor hard in the head. There was a crack as its mask split.

“How did it happen?” Rachel asked, appearing at Maxson’s side. “I was...preoccupied.”

That was one way of putting it. Rachel’s knuckles were swollen and bleeding. Quinn wouldn’t be surprised if at least one of them was broken.

She explained in a monotone voice and then held her hand out to Rachel. “My legs are having a bit of difficulty at the moment.”

Rachel took the hint and pulled Quinn to her feet. She dusted herself down and glanced at Bantios again, before turning to see Carson stomping back towards them, taking deep breaths through his nose. When he calmed down, Quinn spoke again.

“You got it out of your system?”

Carson gave a slow nod. “Sorry, ma’am.” He glanced at Maxson. “Sir. Just...he’s only a kid. And I was hoping we wouldn’t lose anymore scribes today.”

Quinn knew he was downplaying what he really felt. He let his emotions run away with him at the best of times, but with Casey’s condition obviously on his mind, it was amplifying everything. Not that she thought Carson didn’t care about Bantios’ death—he would care regardless. But right now, it was rubbing salt in the wound.

Maxson seemed to think so, too. He kept uncharacteristically quiet.

“Carry him out,” Quinn said to Carson, feeling cold as she pointed to the scribe. “We’d be dead without him.”

Carson nodded and picked Bantios’ body up. He looked small and frail in the knight’s arms. Maxson stared at him for a moment as if he was going to say something, but then apparently thought better of it.

He turned to Quinn, taking refuge in the mission. “Codes to open the reactor. The honour is yours, Paladin.”

There was that ‘honour’ again. Honour of reactivating a war machine. Honour of destruction. Quinn wanted nothing to do with the Brotherhood’s idea of honour. She took the codes without a word and walked over to the reactor, making her way through the terminal. The door slid open without ceremony, and Quinn returned to her armour, removing the pulse charges from it.

“I’ll have to leave my suit behind,” Quinn said over her shoulder as she strode back to the reactor. She felt a stab of regret at this. The armour had been with her since she’d first joined the Brotherhood. Danse himself had tinkered with it for her. “The shock batons have ruined it from the inside out.”

“A pity,” replied Maxson. “We’ll issue you with a new set when we return to the Prydwen, Paladin.”

Don’t bother, she thought to herself, but didn’t respond.

The reactor was spherical inside, the walls curving around a central pillar. Quinn followed the handwritten instructions on the charges and managed to attach them to the metal surface, before setting it up for detonation. Once it was primed, she stepped out of the reactor and returned to the terminal, using the codes to seal the door. She looked at Maxson and nodded.

He smiled. “Good work, Paladin. I think it’s time to leave this place to its fate.” Maxson glanced up at the ceiling. “Proctor Ingram, do you copy? Our mission is complete. I need you to transport us out of here immediately.”

Quinn frowned. How the hell was Ingram supposed to—?

Her thoughts were cut short as the strange feeling needled through her, before the light swept her away.

--

Quinn staggered as the teleporter deposited her back in the entrance of the Institute. She clutched a hand to her head, nausea rippling in her stomach, when she saw a figure that rooted her to the spot.

It was something. It was selfish.

It was Shaun.

No...not Shaun. His synth. Down the corridor, standing next to a perplexed Ingram, was the boy. Quinn heard Maxson say something, but his words were muted, the buzzing in her ears drowning everything out. Ingram’s response was a little clearer.

“...he claims to be the paladin’s son, sir.”

Quinn’s breath was quickening, so sharp and shallow she could feel the dizziness creeping in. The boy was staring at her, his eyes wide with fear and...and something else. And Quinn could feel a peculiarity growing within her tight chest. Confusion, mingled with hurt.

This child was not the real Shaun, could never replace him. But he didn’t have to be a replacement. All he needed was a parent. Whatever Shaun’s intentions had been in creating this synth, Quinn knew she could do that—not just for the boy, but for Shaun too.

The child bit his lip. “Mom?”

That did it. Quinn dropped her weapon and sprinted down the corridor, shoving Maxson aside as he tried to get in her way. She threw herself onto the boy—onto Shaun—and dragged him into a hug. She couldn’t understand her feelings, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t deserve to die here, and the desire to protect him burned within her, to make him her own. Shaun had been her responsibility. This boy would be her responsibility as well. Completely. Gladly.

It took a good few minutes before anyone could convince Quinn to let go of the new Shaun. She was downright hysterical, rocking him in her arms as she cried out all of her grief. For what had happened. For what would happen. The end was in sight, but the last battle had sapped her of all her strength. She had nothing left to give.

Only Carson’s gentle touch and soft words eventually made Quinn relax her grip and let go. He promised he would look after Shaun if she chose to carry on. If there was one person she could trust, it was Carson. Even if he somehow found out the truth, he’d never hurt the child.

Rachel, meanwhile, was stood behind Carson, frowning. She cast her gaze from Quinn to the synth Shaun, and then back again. Her eyes narrowed, but she said nothing, and then a few minutes later her expression cleared and she stepped out of sight.

Almost gingerly, Maxson approached. Quinn had never seen the man in a state so tentative in his life, and for a second she wondered if he was channelling Bantios’ ghost. This thought immediately brought a stab of shame, and she looked around to see his body had been laid carefully on the floor. However, a few seconds later, Rachel came into view, picking him up and cradling him in her arms. Quinn smiled gratefully at her, and Rachel smiled back with a small nod.

“Paladin…Quinn.” Maxson crouched down to Quinn’s level, and she could help but notice that he appeared worried, as well as a little confused. A groggy thought crossed her mind—was the confusion because his own parents had never shown much love?

The Elder paused, and then sighed. “Bringing you here has been incredibly selfish of me. I assumed for the final push you would relish at the chance of vengeance, but I never considered that…” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “This must have been an ordeal for you. Though I am glad to see the Institute lied about the fate of your son. If you want to leave, then…”

“No,” Quinn said at once.

Maxson blinked in surprise. “You are not obligated to stay, Paladin. You have more than done your duty today.”

“I am obligated to stay, sir. They hurt my family.” She thought of Shaun—the original Shaun—alone with his father’s holotape, and felt a lump in her throat. “They are still hurting my family. I am seeing this through to the end.”

Maxson studied her for an age and then gave a slow, slight incline of his head. He straightened up and offered her a hand. Quinn took it and he helped her stand.

“Ad victoriam, Paladin.”

Quinn didn’t respond, her mind drifting. Everything became distant as he reeled off his instructions, and she shuffled forward, bending down to kiss the synth—her son—on his head.

“Stay with Carson,” Quinn mumbled. “He’ll look after you.”

Shaun gave a faint smile. “Okay, mom. I love you.”

Quinn’s breath caught in her throat. Did she love him? “I…”

Thankfully, she was spared the upset as Ingram’s voice cut across the gathering.

“Step back, ma’am. Teleporting you now.”

Quinn quickly obeyed, and within seconds the light engulfed her, taking her soaring through the atmosphere.

--

From the top of the Mass Fusion building, Boston greeted Quinn once again, splayed out in front of her like an old, dying friend. It teemed with invisible life, above and below, and she couldn’t help but wonder if it would ever be rebuilt. Probably not.

In front of her was the dreaded mechanism, its button primed and waiting. Behind her, Maxson wittered on, all business again, like he was hastily trying to cover up the glimmer of compassion he had shown her.

“Proctor Ingram has assured me we’ll be outside the blast radius.” He paused, and Quinn knew he was about to give some sort of practiced speech. She was right.

“Press that button and you not only defeat our enemy, you restore order and decency to the Commonwealth. It’s time, Paladin. The Institute and their synth abominations must be eradicated.”

Quinn ignored him. She continued to stare at the dead city with its parasitic inhabitants. The wind that was whipping through the air was suddenly very cold on her face. She knew what she was doing. Every second she delayed was a second longer in Shaun’s life.

“Paladin?”

“I need a moment. My son...my husband. Everything. This is just…” Quinn squeezed her eyes shut and then opened them. It was time.

Her hand hovered over the button as she stared at it. Drops of water pattered onto its rusted surface, and she realised tears were streaming down her cheeks. Quinn placed her thumb over the device and looked up towards the Institute.

She pressed it.

A huge white glow bloomed from nowhere, and then the ground shook as an explosion rocketed up in the sky, flame and dust and debris swirling like hellfire unleashed. Quinn closed her eyes, feeling the rush of heat whip through the atmosphere. Her knees buckled as the blast reached them, and she clung to the platform, barely feeling the hands grasping at her.

She was back. Shaun crying in Nate’s arms, Boston burning in the distance, the floor lowering them into their final resting place: Vault 111. She was choking on her fear, waiting for her death. Her son. Oh, her son.

The darkness of the vault swallowed her.

--

Nate smiled as he waved to Quinn from the living room window. She gave him a death glare and stomped off down the street. He waited until she’d disappeared from sight, and then hurried towards Shaun’s room, chuckling to himself. She was still angry that even after Codsworth had been fixed, he hadn’t returned her Islay to her. But as he’d said, why? She hadn’t fixed the robot for him. He’d had to call in a repair technician himself.

Fair punishment.

Nate picked Shaun up out of his cot and kissed the top of his head. “Hey, champ. Wanna help me do something nice for your mom?”

Shaun gurgled and grabbed hold of Nate’s finger, putting it in his mouth.

Nate laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He carried Shaun out to the shed—his man shed, a very important distinction from regular sheds, as he kept telling Quinn. The insistence usually earned him an eye roll. But it was the only place she wouldn’t hide his socks and screwdriver from him, and so the only place he could hide things from her. Well, except from the secret safe where he’d put her whisky. But that was an exceptional circumstance.

Sitting down on his stool, Nate shifted his hold on Shaun and picked up a holotape recorder he’d recently purchased. He showed it to Shaun, who immediately surrendered Nate’s fingers and put the recorder in his mouth instead.

“We’re gonna record a nice message for your mom,” he said, watching Shaun dribble away on the plastic casing. “So that when I give her the whisky back, she won’t divorce me. Good plan?”

Shaun made a babbling noise.

“Glad you agree, little man.”

Carefully, he edged the recorder out from Shaun’s grasp, distracting him so he wouldn’t cry, and then turned it on. Straight away, Shaun made a grab for it, and Nate nearly dropped it. “Oops!” He laughed and Shaun took hold of his sleeve cuff and started trying to chew that. Nate smiled as he said, “Keep those little fingers away…”

He hadn’t exactly planned what he was going to say in his holotape, and yet it all seemed to flow together naturally. How much he loved Quinn, what a wonderful mother she was, and his excitement for the future.

It was all true. Things would be hard, but so long as he had his family, he would be fine. Quinn had taught him that. He bounced Shaun on his knee, feeling a rush of love for his son. "Now say goodbye, Shaun. Bye bye. Say bye bye!”

Shaun gurgled again, and Nate grinned.

“Bye, honey. We love you."

--

A/N: So today is a monumental day for this fic! Aside from a few canon dialogue pieces from the aftermath of the game, this is it. We’ve reached the end of established Fallout 4 canon.

I finally have free reign over the story.

I am so damn excited. What about you?

#Fallout 4 #Paladin Danse #ss x danse #sole survivor x danse #fallout 4 fanfic #by no constraint #story #writing