Chapter 1: Coffin
Chapter Text
You Are Ashley!
Ughhhh...
Your head is pounding as your eyes are forced open. One of the myriad wonders of your current situation, a question answered that you never wanted to ask. Sleeping on the floor with the lights on, when you haven’t eaten in two weeks grants you:
A Headache!
But there’s no time to feel sorry for yourself. Along with your headache, you have a quest as your brain slowly turns on: It’s called Find Nutrients To Not Die!
Ready?
Set?
GO!
The universe has far too much energy for you today. You clamber and stumble onto your knees (you feel a dull, barely-there pain across the skin there), then to your feet. You look across your cheap apartment’s combined living area and kitchen, positive beyond doubt that you’ve found every scrap of edible material within it.
But you have very few options than to simply look again. Better than the alternative, and it isn’t as though waiting will produce any results. Each motion is painful, but you check every single (empty) cabinet in the little kitchen, every drawer and cubby in the living room (also empty), under the sofa, behind the freezer, the fridge, you pick across each of the trash piles (of which there are several, now), and find nothing. If your heart were still there, or you had any real hope of finding anything, you would say it sank.
You keep looking. The bathroom, washing machine, even the toiletries (though the cocoa scent makes drinking the shampoo seem more pleasant every day), and as you expect, nothing at all. Part of you thinks you should do the laundry while you’re picking around it, but if you’re going to starve to death anyway, you won’t bother.
You glance to your shared room, knowing just as well that there’s nothing inside (you looked yesterday, and the day before that… And many more days you didn’t count before both), then to the fourth and final room of the apartment. Knowing just as well it doesn’t have any food, but holds the solution to your problems, just out of reach.
You groan as you walk to it, seeing the blasphemous combination of a pentagram and a cross hanging from it, hand-made during a more normal, less objectively terrible time.
You don’t have the key to this room. Not anymore. You’ve thought about stealing them in the night. But if it goes wrong… You don’t want to lose her. You can't lose her.
You Are Renee!
Your little Mistake is throwing a tantrum in the room she shares with your little Disappointment. Again. You question if this is the tenth time this month, or the fifteenth. You stopped counting when she was six, and it’s been two years since then… No, three. You do your best to focus on filling out applications for work under your darling husband’s name (he was helping before, but you forced him to take a nap before his next shift), though the smashing of something made of glass catches your ear once more, then a second. A few moments later, a third. You question if you can afford to replace three more lightbulbs this month… Maybe you should just get the Disappointment a flashlight. He could make that work. You might be able to afford that… Next month.
You sigh, setting down applications as you rub your eyes. You need a break. You grab the newspaper on your way to the kitchenette, fill a mug with coffee (you used to add sugar and cream, when you could afford it), and see an ad you quickly dismiss for being religious nonsense as you take your first sip. But the words beneath it give you pause.
[Saint Mary’s Loving Arms: For Troubled, Criminal, and Unwanted Youth!]
You entertain the idea for a moment. Only a moment, quietly chiding yourself for doing so, but your eyes nonetheless follow the text.
[5,000£ For the First Child Granted Salvation! 2,000£ for the Second!]
You simply stop and think. Truly, honestly think, for far longer than you should have. You hear your husband wake up, an hour passed far too quickly, the sounds of tantrum having stopped at some point, but your mind caught on the idea of not needing to replace school supplies and ruined clothes and lightbulbs, or dealing with noise complaints and fines and crimes from your little hellspawn’s behaviour.
As you look upto him, seeing his tired eyes…
Oh Love… I might have found a better option for our family.
You smile at him. He looks confused but… He agrees before leaving for his shift, a smile on his face, too. You always wanted to see him smile more.
You Are Ashley!
You return to your shared room, starving beyond the point of feeling the pains of hunger as you silently open the door. Your sister is sleeping in her bed, curled up under simple polka-dot sheets. As has become your habit since well before quarantine, you check for anything sharp hidden near or under her bed, and thankfully finding nothing before looking at her necklace. Two keys, one black and one silver, a cross, and a little multicoloured heart charm. You got that for her, a year ago. Seeing her wear it still makes you happy, despite your dire circumstances.
You draw the blanket off of her, slowly, feeling her sleeves, finding them dry. You really are proud of her, for making so much progress. You feel her shiver, and you quickly shift the thick blanket back over her shoulders. She's lost so much weight, and she gets so cold now, even when covered in blankets, wearing clothes and a hoodie, even while cuddling. You sigh, walking over to your desk to grab a pile of papers, you think that was supposed to be used for drawing, but you haven't had the energy. Pairing it with your ash tray and a lighter, you carefully position your goods on the nightstand beside her, strike a small flame, and rest the burning pages beside her.
You sigh, pocketing the lighter and looking down at her once more, slowly relaxing with the added heat, though it won't last for very long. You once again can’t bring yourself to steal one of the keys. Instead, you climb into bed next to her, making sure she can feel your ribs as you cuddle in close. She’s been a lot harder to guilt trip than she used to be, but it’s your own fault for going easy on her. Your last thought, before dreams envelop you, is that you aren’t going to let up from here on out. Her morals be damned, literally, you’re going to get out, and you're going to drag her with you.
You Are Leyley!
Andy never came to save you. It’s the only thing you’ve thought all day, you’ve been abandoned. You knew it would happen. He must’ve panicked after ____’s death. He hates you now.
You hardly remember the previous night. Or the one before that, or before that. You didn’t even know it was Monday, until that hag forced you to go to school. You don’t know what any teachers have said, even when they yelled at you. And now, you’re only barely aware of the crying girl next to you. Your friend, maybe. She keeps apologizing between sobs. Part of you finds it annoying. Most of you simply… Doesn’t acknowledge it. You can’t even be upset that she isn’t asking you what’s wrong, since you killed her best friend. Part of you knows that you killed Andy at the same time, even though he’s the one who locked the box.
Suddenly, you’re being hugged. You don’t respond. Apparently you’re helping her though, because she thanks you. You almost want to snap at her. Just for hugging you, or crying, or saying something. You don't. You just stay silent.
Eventually you’re back in the orphanage. You remember eating. Drinking. Sleeping, maybe. Not much, of any of them. You tried drawing with the coloured pencils one of the nuns gave you. It wasn't the same, you hardly touched them.
Some days later, she asks you something.
How is Andy-
You want to snap. You want to scream about that traitor, about how he left you to rot, about how he didn't care, about how nobody cares, about how you're alone. You don't even hear the rest of her sentence, the blood rushes to your ears. You hear her apologize. You feel her hug you... Why? You're confused, until you realize you're crying, too. You feel cold, away from the numbness you feel bitter. The hug isn't helping you. It just reminds you of how you'll be alone, soon. You know she'll run away too. You killed her best friend. Andy killed her best friend. You killed Andy. You killed them both. Now you're alone. She'll abandon you, too. You know she will.
It doesn't take long for that to be true. You see her move away, more than feel the hug's conclusion. Maybe it did help, or maybe she just got your attention, because you can hear her. Understand her words.
-promise... It's going to be okay, you aren't alone-
And your blood boils again. You scream. You don't know what you're saying, but you're loud. She looks scared, but mostly sad. The words you're saying are inchoate to your own ears, but people start staring. Everybody starts staring, the lunch lady is staring, your friend(?) is staring. They're all hateful and mean glares, you can't hear yourself but you can hear them telling you to stop, to shut up, to go away, just leave, go end yourself-
You don't hear Julia. She's talking.
You run. You run under a teacher's arm who's come to grab you, out the doors. You hide, your favourite spot in the recess yard. Near where you used to play. Where Andy and ____ used to play.
You hear footsteps. Small ones. Shouting for you, scared. Crying. Not a teacher. This is where Julia played too.
She starts looking. She knows you're here, she's here to yell at you or hurt you or taunt you. Maybe she just wants you to see her leave.
But she doesn't. She searches. You hear a teacher. She hides, just like you are, except now she can see you. You see her, too. She's crying, but now she's quietly staring at you. You can't place the emotion in her eyes, it's one you've seen Andy wear before. Never her, though.
The teacher leaves quickly, you recognize her voice now. Your mother called her a filthy cunt, so did you. She's looking for Julia, not you. You knew that anyway, but it still hurts.
When they leave you expect Julia to run away. Find somewhere better. But she found you, she runs over, she catches you. She hugs you again. This time it feels warm. It helps. Even if you know it's temporary, it's nice, for a moment, to feel like you aren't alone.
You return the hug. She doesn't say anything, nor do you. But you're glad to have a friend, regardless.
You only stayed in the orphanage for one month, maybe less, maybe more. One saturday, a nun said you were being adopted. Part of you lit up with joy, thinking Andy... Really did come back for you.
But it was a woman you didn't recognize, with a husband you didn't recognize, a daughter you didn't recognize, and-
Her. She was smiling. Really smiling. You smiled back, before running over and giving your new sister a hug.
You Are Ashley!
You wake to an empty bed, and as your eyes open, an empty room. The pages rest, blackened and crumbled into your ash tray, but the blanket has been tucked against your chin. You smile, humming slightly before groaning out of bed. Leaving the dark room behind, you hear the stovetop burning and quickly, as though a switch was flipped, are enveloped in the warm blanket of hope. As you step out, however, rather than the thin hope of food, you see your sister heating a kettle on the stove. Her tea supply ran out a month ago, but she still heats water as if she were making it every day.
Your stomach still gets it's hopes up every day because of it, though. It hurts. You do your best to ignore it.
Ah? Good M-morning, Ash. Did you s-sleep okay?
You can't tell if she's stuttering because she's cold or if she's feeling anxious today. It could be either, but both have a similar solution, as you walk around, wrapping your arms around her. She's slightly taller than you when you aren't wearing heels, though thinner. She couldn't eat some of the food the wardens had brought, and you can feel it every time your hold her.
Absolutely bursting with energy, Juls. You?
Your sarcasm is lost on her. Or maybe she thinks pretending things are better than they are.
Nothing new. B-but I'm happy you s-slept well!
You sigh, arms tightening around her as she pours herself a glass of 'tea.' No more taking it easy on her, remember?
Seems like your prayers weren't answered. Again.
W-Well! It c-can take... Time... And...
it would be really nice if we had time. Think you should start praying for that, instead?
...
You are answered with silence, but you rest your forehead against her, holding her tighter against your chest.
You know... I do have food, and it's going to be here... Pretty soon. Maybe even tea, if I can swing it.
The silence turns colder, and she lowers her head. You do feel a pang of worry... Laying it on thick in the past almost lost her. But right now you don't have many more options.
Ashley... I-I don't want to...
She chokes on her words. You fill the gap in her sentence with your own.
You wouldn't do anything. I would. All you need to do is make a list and take off your necklace. Have a shower, or a nap...
This was always the weak point you knew to exploit, aside from guilt. But guilt doesn't work well on it's own, not anymore. You almost regret helping her grow away from that, but you're ultimately more content knowing fewer people could get to her, not like you do. You hammer the message home.
All you need to do is... Nothing. Just say what you want.
She sips at her tea hot water. You hear her mutter 'forgive me lord' as she unclasps her necklace, holding it for several seconds before placing it on the counter. She exhales, as though she had been holding her breath for months, before leaning back into your grasp. For a minute, then two, then five, before taking a deep breath. You know you've won, you don't want to push now, you don't want her to feel like you're controlling her, when you're so blatantly controlling her.
She finds a pen, and on an old grocery receipt circles... Almost every single item, writing in a few more before setting it next to the necklace.
I-I'm going to... T-Take a shower. Um... B-Bye, I... Guess...
You can hear the conflict in her voice, but all you can do is smile. You squeeze her tightly, pressing a small kiss to her shoulder.
Go get warm, Juls. Be... Careful. I'll be right out here.
You let go of her, and she slowly scampers into the bathroom, looking back at you, but never meeting your eyes. As an afterthought, you wonder if you removed all of the sharp things from the room...
You hope you did.
It'll be fine.
You carefully take the black key from her necklace. Your key, and you waste no time rushing to the locked room. The key fits like a glove, and the door swings open, traces of dust swooshing out. On the right side, Julia's half. A cross hangs on the wall. A handful of bibles on the drawer-top below it, a book of hymns, and a tape of most of those same hymns.
None of those are why you're here. On your left, your side. It's a mirror image of Julia's, with a drawer, a tape, some books, but this time a pentagram hanging on the wall. It's cheesy, and not something you particularly wanted, but it completes the look. You glance at the books. Satanic Bible, which you also didn't want. The Book of Coming Forth By Night, a pointless word scramble that was a lot more interesting, but also not something you care about. All of those were gifts, and if it was upto you, kindling. Julia said that it looked better to keep them. You went along with it only by virtue that when you threw away the pentagram anyway, she started crying, so on the wall it stays.
The third book, already open, is the one that matters. Demon Summoning for Dummies Vol. 666. It was a gag gift Jane had given you... But it was by far one of the best gifts you ever received. Better than anything you ever got from ______ or his hag of a mother.
Don't think about that. Stop.
Candles...
You think aloud to stop the thoughts in your head. Not very effectively, but it's something. You draw out the drawer with your supplies. Candles (five of which are already missing from the bag of 50 you had bought) and a knife are all you need today, though the eclectic mess of baubles is beyond enough to make Julia uncomfortable opening this drawer. If the pentagram and everything else didn't do it already, that is.
It even has chalk! You use it to sketch out a pentacle on the wood floor, then five more, one at each point, and five more circles, one between each pair around the outside, each of which you fill with a candle, then light them one by one. You know it doesn't need to be perfect, but you know you only have one chance. You can't waste it.
You take a deep breath, and put the tape in the little pocket player you left in here (you also used it for music a few times, but not recently). A strange, droning sound emerges, and you prepare yourself as you roll up your sleeve. You do your best to ignore the already-present scars, though you aren't able to fully dodge the pain of seeing them. You never are.
One chance, Ash. One chance. You can't fuck it up.
You steady yourself, press the blade to your forearm, and take a deep breath before making the cut. Crimson pain lights up your world, your breath ripped out of your lungs with even the small incision, you feel awake and alive despite the lack of energy, the lack of rest and food and joy. You simply need to stop for several long seconds, recovering in a certain sense, though savoring is a better word.
You almost pair it with a second, but the knock on a door- Not yours, the one across the hall, pulls you out. You focus, centre, and then set your knife down. You don't have long, only a few minutes. Streaking your free hand through the cut - it stings, burns, it feels like cold fire burning on your arm - you trace the chalk. Another knock, closer. After every inch has been coated, the blood soaks into the chalk, as though it were waiting for permission before turning a bright red, cast like liquid fire in the candlelight. Another knock, closer. You grab a roll of bandages, wrapping your arm as quickly as you can before rolling your sleeve back down. Another knock, one door over. But you hear some sort of conversation. You have a minute.
You run into the kitchen, grabbing the receipt Julia had added to, before returning to the circle. Speaking loudly, you glance to your book one last time, to remember what this demon likes to be called.
Hello hello, Duke of the Begotten! I will have a soul for you in only a few minutes, and all I need is help getting groceries~!
it's a tempting, easy offer in many regards. The book details very clearly that they only prize human souls, the less effort the better. Each demon has it's strengths. The Princess of Lies, good at fooling people, forcing them to believe false truths. The Page of Forever, clairvoyance. Lord Unknown, for recovering lost knowledge. And the Duke of the Begotten, for getting things. It really was a simple book, if people took the time to read the boring parts...
Which you hadn't. Julia had, and had written you a cheatsheet.
But maybe she wrote it wrong, because nothing happens!
Wait, wait! I... The Soul will be here in just... two minutes! Maybe three, and I'll summon you again to get one or two more within a day! I already have a list written-
A knock. Your door. A booming voice. Familiar. Cruel. This is the one that usually makes Julia cry. You smile, knowing this one will be the sacrifice, though the circle still does nothing.
Hey! You girls alive in there? All lonely and afraid?
You feel the rush of bad adrenaline as he laughs. This might go wrong. You just have to risk it.
You walk upto the door, and take a deep, stabilizing breath. The best way to draw this pervert in was to play into it, you know that.
Oh, of course we're lonely. With just the two of us...
You feel sick to your stomach, almost gagging on the words coming out of your mouth. But you've always been a good liar, and as the wood of the door and the board scrape together, you wear a tense, but hopeful, smile.
You Are Julia!
You do your best to drown out all your senses with the heat and sound and spray of the shower. The worst tradeoff you made, coming to this apartment, was the lack of a bath. But it made Ash hopeful, and happy, in some sense. It was a worthwhile trade, and by far one of the least stressful compromises you've made in your relationship with her.
Well not relationship relationship, you aren't sure if she's into women at all...
Or you! Specifically you.
The Lord is watching, Julia, stop thinking of your sister like that.
...You're going to hell anyway, right?
No! Definitely not, you're...
Ugghhhhhh...
You let out a frustrated groan, covering your face in your hands. Your eyes are closed, you tend to keep them that way until you're dressed again, but you know exactly where everything is so it's fine! Really it's okay.
Really, it is.
...It isn't. But it's okay that it isn't! That's what your therapist always says...
Jane and Ash always say you need a new one... And it's not like you've talked to him recently, given the quarantine and all...
The warm water is making you sleepy. It usually does, now, but that's because everything has been making you sleepy.
Unfortunately... Your mind is too busy for you to fall asleep and hit your head against the tiles.
Stop thinking like that. You're being such a fuckup.
Don't think that either! it's... Blasphemy, or something.
Your back hits the wall, you slide down until you're sitting on the floor, and you do your best not to cry as the water cascades across your body. Your left hand reaches out towards a cubby on the floor, and despite finding an empty can of shaving cream... You don't find a razor.
You take a deep breath, angling your head down so no water gets into your mouth. Ashley... Can be so cruel, even if she is trying to help. If there was something in here, which wasn't likely, you would need to open your eyes to find it. You would need to see... Everything.
Quick, think of something else! Think of... puppies! Or kittens! Or... Something, anything, for God's sake...
Fuck, that... was blasphemy. Jane curses so much worse, she would probably tell you it's fine. And it is, really, but... It still makes you feel cold, despite the heat of the water.
You haven't gotten to talk to Jane in... months. They cut the phone lines at some point, you're not sure when. You sob, loudly, at the sight of her appearing in your mind.
She and Ashley were the only ones who supported you, when you came out of the closet. Your mother took to Ashley's... unorthodox religious materials within a year, although it helps that it started as a joke. You think.
A mirthless laugh comes out of your mouth. Maybe you should have made jokes about liking girls first. Maybe that would've helped?
You can almost hear Jane's voice telling you that it wouldn't. You can see it now, striking some sort of scary pose, carding through her hair with one hand while the other makes a fist.
She's just a cunt, Julia. Dad's more chill, maybe he can convince her, but I'm proud of you for coming out how you did. It was bad ass!
...It's a fun thought but... It isn't far off from what she said, either. Just after a workout, a couple weeks after you came out. The same day your mother told the church, and everybody prayed for your salvation.
The only ones who didn't were your sisters... Well, that's because Ashley wasn't there, of course. But Jane had picked you up and carried you out without a second thought.
Your mind drifts to that moment. When she literally swept you off your feet, and carried you out like you weighed nothing. Big, strong arms wrapped around you...
You need to stop... thinking. Stop thinking of your sisters the way you do. Stop thinking of women-
You dig your nails into your arm. The water has made them soft, but it still stings. Stings enough to... Stop that train of thought. But not enough to make anything feel better.
What am I going to do... Maybe I sh-
Your thoughts are stopped by the sound of a door opening... And then a rumble through the floor. A scream, a man... Then nothing, for long seconds...
Then Ashley. Laughing. Giggling, even, talking... You... Suddenly miss her. You worry for her. For her soul, both in a religious, and in a literal sense. You barely remember what happened before, but... It sounds... Okay. She's laughing. You hear the static of a radio, and another rumble, probably the... Creature going away.
You turn off the water, not waiting until the air gets cold before you dry off and dress in the same clothes you were wearing before, only opening your eyes as you fix everything into place. You still feel naked, without your necklace, but you're covered enough. You listen for a minute... Two, then five minutes.
You hear running. Shouting, and another roar, another rumble. And Ashley is laughing again. Only once you hear your sister locking the door, the rumbling rift closing with the creature's passing... You hope... Do you dare to walk out.
It's cold... But you hear the stove blaze to life before you see her. A truly wicked smile across her face, ponytail lost in some sort of excitement as she empties a can of tomatoes (in sauce!) into a pan...
You look over to the door. Closed.
But with two bodies between you and it... Dead, maybe. Not moving, and not five feet from them, an entire shopping cart filled to the brim.
You never once thought you could forget seeing a dead body, never mind two when they were still in your vision... But in this moment, all you can do is run to your sister, and throw your arms around her.
Hers find your body, squeezing so tight it's nearly painful, and the way her laugh falls throughout your apartment, you can hear the manic energy in it, you can't help but be swept up, laughing and smiling with her.
There would be problems... Oh good lord would there be problems to solve. You know that somewhere.
Right now, however, you let yourself cry. You let yourself feel warm, and hopeful, and loved. Even if only for the day.
Chapter 2: Joke
Chapter Text
You Are Julia!
After you let go of Ashley (a grueling process), you did your best to look... Anywhere except the floor, where there are bodies. Soulless victims of demon worship and devilry...
Which you helped incite and are now benefitting from.
Your stomach growls, a high-pitched and achy sound you haven't heard in a while. You thought it had given up, nearly a week ago, but the smell of Ashley's cooking is more than enough to incite such a thing.
You do your best to ignore the bodies as you pull the cart closer to the kitchen, making it, in turn, easier to ignore them, at least for now. You're so visibly discomforted by them it's a... Whatever the opposite of a miracle is, that Ash hasn't noticed yet. But not wanting to detract from her... Bounty, you decide to keep quiet as long as you can, and distract yourself by making proper tea, setting the kettle on the stove as your sister makes...
You've only now paused to look over, and your heart pounds once, out of rhythm, when you realize she's making one of your comfort foods. A relatively simple grilled cheese and tomato sauce (not soup because it's too watery). You try not to read into it, she's probably just worried given your current... everything.
Still, it makes you feel nice.
You're laughing. Sitting on the couch, next to Ashley, both of you six sandwiches in and out of tomato to pair with the rest (not that it's stopping either of you), laughing together over a movie. You don't remember the name, Ash had picked it up months ago and you never got around to watching it together, until now. It had some ridiculous story about talking zombies learning kung-fu, with an amount of gore you never thought you could see without being disgusted.
Ashley has had that effect over the years, though. Most of the movies she likes to watch are gory splatter flicks. Today was no exception, but this one is by far the most ridiculous of them. You aren't sure how anyone could enjoy it unironically, but sitting next to Ashley as she gets excited and mocks every little detail is a truly blessed experience.
Eventually the two arbitrary love interests get together, though in this movie, the pair with no chemistry or buildup to their relationship, who don't seem at all interested in eachother but are going to end up together solely so the movie could put them together on the cover, isn't a man and a woman. In a progressive twist (which might be parody, it's impossible to know with a movie like this), the completely loveless pair was two women!
Ashley liked to pick out movies with gay people in it, for your sake, you think. You've never really talked about that before, with her. She didn't ask any questions or make any comments, like Jane did. Just accepted it like you had told her the weather. You thought she might have disapproved (which would have broken your heart), but you realized pretty quickly that she simply doesn't care. So long as nothing changed for her, it was a change in vocabulary. Now instead of looking out for 'womanizers' and 'manwhores,' she had to be on the lookout for 'hussies' and 'floozies.'
She still didn't want you to date. Which, frankly... Was alright with you. Limiting, but given your 'type,' you wouldn't want to date until... Well, you aren't sure. If you did find a woman you were attracted to, the odds are one of your sisters would notice the similarities. Which would be a problem, and that's a problem you've elected to solve if it ever comes up.
You're pulled out of your thoughts by the zombie women kissing. It's... A strangely gratuitous scene, one of them has somehow ended up naked, and both become human before the credits roll. Just as nonsensical as the rest of the movie, but it was entertaining. Unfortunately, Ashley's criticisms and jabs have stopped, strangely quiet, looking between you and the screen as she lights a hand-rolled cigarette. Her first in a month, as far as you know. She gestures between you and the screen.
How does that work?
You cock your head, curiously at her, Your eyes sting lightly with the smoke, but it's a feeling you're more than used to, one which provides a form of comfort by familiarity alone.
W-What... Do you mean? Like...
You know. Women. Like... How do you know?
Like... H-how do you know if you're... Into... W-women?
I guess? I mean, I'm not talking about some hussy you want to play around with.
The bluntness never fails to catch you off guard, sending a not wholly-unpleasant heat to your cheeks as she gesticulates with her cigarette.
How do you know you're actually into someone?
You pause for several seconds, face getting hotter as you contemplate how to answer. Who you are, as she says, into. You suddenly can't look at her face.
W-Well... If you... Are close to them. A-and you feel... Funny, but in a g-good way, and want to do good things to them and... Usually, i-if... You just want her to be all yours...
Your voice trails off at the thought. Your mind drifts to... Unpleasant thoughts about Jane's boyfriend, against your will.
Not that he's bad! He's a good man, just...
Your mouth feels very dry, you sip your tea, and realize Ashley asked another question. Which you didn't hear, because you were too much in your own head. Get it together.
C-Could you say that a-again? Sorry...
Ashley looks annoyed for only a moment, you shy away, then she looks sad. She doesn't apologize, but she does rest her hand on your forearm, comfortingly. Apologetically. You feel warm, as she takes her time, having a long puff before asking her question a second time.
I saaaiiid, that just seems normal to me. Except for the funny feelings part. Don't you get that around anybody you care about?
N-No? Like, you don't f-feel that way about mom and d-dad, do you?
She pauses to think as she takes another drag, tapping ash into the tray as she speaks again.
Well duh. But that's because they already have eachother, it's different.
You silently contemplate how to respond to that information, trying to decipher if you've said something poorly or if she misunderstood, but she interrupts your thoughts again, eyes narrowing at you.
Wait, how do you know what it feels like? What floozies have you been skulking around with?
Part of you can recognize the jealousy in her voice, but most of you gets caught up in the accusation, as though you had any real time away from her that you could use to meet someone.
Which you don't, especially not anymore. Not that you're complaining, of course. Other people would be more of a waste of time, when you're already so busy and surrounded by loved ones.
You feel that twinge in your chest again.
I-I don't-... I haven't met anyone, Ash, this is just...
You pray that your lies aren't going to damn you later.
Th-Things I've read and... Thought about.
Hmmph...
She crosses her arms, pouting, but the accusatory look doesn't fade.
You're probably just saying that so I don't try to burn her house down.
The pain in her voice doubles the amount of pain the distrust causes on it's own. Despite the happy tone from minutes before, you shrink in on yourself, and away from her.
D-Do you think so l-little of me, Ashley?
Now she feels bad. And so do you... Neither of you hide it well, but she's the one who puts out her cigarette before dragging you into a hug. She has to backtrack, losing her composure for only a few seconds. In happier times you take pride in knowing that you're one of two people who can drag that reaction out of her.
She isn't good at apologies, or correcting her behavior. But you can feel the way she squeezes you so close, there's a forlorn, possessive feeling within it. Sinking into the warmth of her body, you let yourself be lied to, and convince yourself that she really does feel the same way about you, that you do about her.
It's a nice fantasy... An unhealthy one. You know that. But after everything that's happened recently... You let yourself enjoy that fantasy. A small part of you prays that it doesn't stay just so.
You Are Ashley!
She fell asleep in your arms. Again. You're surprised that she didn't get sick, with how much she ate. That was the idea, of course. Not the sickening effect, but to get her fed despite the actions undergone to get to this point.
Your sister doesn't respond to overt force, well. Juls doesn't, anyhow. It's the only tool you've thusly found to handle Jane, but of course the two are near-polar opposites, and if Jane were here, your next steps would be a lot easier.
For julia you know you need to make sure she doesn't get her hands 'dirty' in any clear way. You need to keep your crimes out of her face... It's complicated, frankly. And it always frustrates you, how you always need to be so gentle with her... But it's worth the trade.
You take a deep breath yourself, enjoying her presence even while asleep, before remembering to clean up the bodies...
Your original plan was to call The Lord of Consumption... But that would need another sacrifice.
You're pretty limited on those.
Rising from the loveseat, gently laying her down in a comfortable position, wrapping the blanket you always keep draped over the couch around her, you glance at the bodies, laying casually on the ground. They might as well be sleeping, or in a coma.
They're both still breathing. A cursory check tells you their hearts are still beating, too, but they're completely unresponsive.
You could use this. You grab a pair of gloves from your closet before picking over their bodies, gathering keys, a radio, the gun one was carrying. Almost 500£ in cash (you leave the cards, too risky) is also gathered, but you put that in your wallet. If you mention it to Julia she might be upset about theft or... Something. So it's yours now (until you spend half of it on her anyway).
The gun... Makes you realize you should get changed. Your pockets aren't big enough to hide the revolver, and aside from that... Isn't the most practical thing to wear while moving bodies.
You return to the scene with a leather jacket, tall heeled boots (all your shoes have heels), fingerless gloves with latex under them (just to hide your prints), leggings under your shorts. You're pretty sure this is what you wore the last time you and Jane went to a concert.
You tuck the gun and the radio into pockets on the inside, throw their keys onto your keychain (which itself carried more stolen keys than you could ever count, but you know where all the important ones are), and start to walk out of your now-unlocked door, just to see what you're working with.
You stop at the door. You turn around, sketching out a quick note, leaving it on Julia's sleeve, before draping a sheet over each body, and leaving.
The air is musty. Dusty? Both, really. The building is old and worn down, but it seems even moreso now, without kids running in the halls or people coming and going. You light up a cigarette as you take the first steps out, mentally tallying that you have four more rolled, before inhaling deeply, letting yourself savour the moment and the warmth and the flavour for several seconds before breathing out. Things a little more clear now, you look at each of the doors. Some are left hanging open, so you have no shortage of places to hide the bodies, but half of them are still barricaded. Most have letters painted on, 'AB' on one door, Ax2 on another. A door you recognize as being the home of several children reads Ax2, Bx2, ABx3, O, all crossed out now. Their door isn't barricaded, but is closed. You look at yours and Julia's. O, AB.
You realize that aside from you and Julia, and your neighbor (a complete amateur that nonetheless hangs a pentagram on his door and scrawled another on the floor below), nobody else is on your floor anymore. Not a good sign, though there's also one unmarked door, with light pouring out from below. You leave the cigarette in your mouth, one hand on your new gun, the other on the doorknob.
You throw the door open, drawing the revolver as if you knew what you were doing.
Empty. Nobody is inside, just a bed, a fridge, a few amenities, and a security desk.
...
Well, that was easy. You check the bathroom quickly before locking the door and looking at the desk, seeing the cameras in the halls move slowly left, then right, then back again. Almost every door you see has the letters crossed off, no barricade, half of them are simply left open. You see another guard on the first floor, twitchy and weird-acting, constantly looking in the already-emptied rooms. One more on the ground floor, seemingly sleeping.
The first might be a problem. You see his hand constantly resting on his gun, you doubt you'd be able to shoot first, never mind scrawl a ritual in blood first. For now, you elect to watch, and think.
You Are Juls!
You get to show your new sister around! Well, more like it's your job, because mama is cooking dinner, and dad is going on a camping trip tomorrow, so he needs to get ready. But that's okay! You have Jane with you, and Leyley hasn't been as mean recently.
...The problem is, now she won't let go of you. For the last ten minutes, nobody's been able to get her away for more than a few seconds.
And that's okay! Even if she's squeezing... A little too tightly for your comfort. You do your best to wrack up the nerve to say something, now that your parents aren't here (they would tell you not to make a scene...), but Jane beats you to it.
Hey uh, Leyl-
Leyley died.
The silence that follows is enough for you to get your bearings, even if you make a fool of yourself right after.
Wh-What?
Leyley died with that traitorous snakefucker Andy.
There's heat behind her words, even if she doesn't raise her voice. You realize that ever since Nina died, she's been quieter than you, most of the time.
They must've been much better friends than you thought. Nina was like a sister to you, and now one of her (and your) closest friends is also your sister! You're suddenly wracked with cold, creeping guilt and shame that you didn't know how close they were.
It's almost enough to distract you from what she actually said, and you momentarily panic because of it all.
H-Hey don't say that!
You catch yourself. Too loud. Fuck. She grabs you even tighter, perhaps in punishment. Maybe you scared her. But Jane is there to help break up your thoughts.
Okay, no Leyley then. Ashley? Lea? Ash?
Sure, that one.
You don't... Understand which one. It could be any, but whichever one someone says first, you'll go along with that. Maybe then she'll cling on to you less painfully, she'll be happier with you then. Surely.
You're most of the way through showing her around. Not that it would take long on it's own, but you try to share stories about each room as you go. To help her get to know each room, in a way. You couldn't do that for the kitchen, because mama had gotten a phone call and seemed really upset about something. She was even cursing Mother Mary herself so you knew she was in a state.
Not that it happened that often! She just got angry sometimes, but it was always for things she should be angry about. Like mean teachers! Or someone not going to church enough. Or... Other things.
But it was all normal things to be angry about!
You drag Ashley away from the room.
S-Sorry about that, mama c-can be... Like that, sometimes.
Hah. That's nothing. My... Mine, used to...
She loosens her grip on you, for a moment. The reprieve is nice, but you're compelled to squeeze her just as tightly. You don't know what her mother was like, but... You'd heard stories from some of the teachers.
You don't want her to think about it for too long.
W-Well now your mama is mine, so... Th-That's how angry she c-can be. And she won't do anyth-thing bad. Just yells sometimes, b-but it'll be okay!
She stays quiet. You said something wrong. You don't know what you said that was wrong maybe you shouldn't have said you have the same mom now or maybe it's the yelling or-
She squeezes you back, tightly. It hurts. It gets you out of your thoughts for a second. It seems like she was just listening to mama's yelling, you didn't do anything wrong. Maybe.
Hopefully.
S-Sorry, do you... Want to see your room?
Your new sister gets a weird, sour look on her face.
Do you mean our room?
N-no? We cleaned a g-guest room up, all for you...?
She's quiet for a while. You think you might've said something wrong, she doesn't talk again until you reach the room. You helped decorate it! And Jane. You did most of the decorating really, everyone else was moving furniture. But you put your heart into it!
Needless to say... The rest of the tour didn't... Exactly go well. She cried and refused to leave your side until the bed was moved. At least she wasn't squeezing you anymore.
You thought your mama would've had a stronger reaction, but she just said it was your own fault, pleading for them to adopt Ashley. You agreed to try it out, and eventually just got used to it.
Having Ashley as a roommate caused all sorts of problems, but... Also brought a lot of good with it. For every night you got woken up by her opening the window and sneaking out (as was the case that night), there was another night that she came over when you were crying yourself to sleep. It didn't always help, especially with her... Openness to talk about how loud of a crier you were. But knowing there was someone there... Someone who would routinely greet you with a hug and sometimes broke into the kitchen to make you warm milk... It helped. She helped.
You Are Julia!
Your head is pounding. Not as bad as yesterday. Your dreams were... dangerously tantalizing, a sheer cold washing through you as you awaken, as you consider what this quarantine is doing to you. How far have you fallen, exactly, to have such sweet dreams of demonic dealings? Of your sister feeding you while bodies rot in the same room. You grasp at your cross, hoping to find some warmth, but you pause.
You breathe, deeply, slowly. There's only one key. You open your eyes to the looping introduction of Zombie Shaolin 9: Locked and ReLowded.
It wasn't a dream. You rise to a sitting position, the crinkling of paper reaching your ear, and you search for it, finding a note stuck to the outside of your sleeve. Clearly Ashley's sketchy style, it depicted a bunny in heels (you imagine they should be pink, though it was done in pen) kissing the forehead of a very comfy-looking bunny on the couch, with words written above and below.
Ash And Juls And The Best Movie Night Ever!
Don't you worry! I'm handling everything. Make yourself some tea <3
For only a moment, your heart swells, beating out of your chest. Then, you look around the room, the silhouette of bodies clear beneath a pair of spare sheets. You do your best to ignore the icy feeling that washes over you. Try to ignore the fact that those men died so you can drink tea.
Try to pretend like you won't be burning in hell as you start to boil the water.
Try to convince yourself that they deserved it as you put the bag in.
Try to remember that you didn't do anything as you look back to Ashley's note.
Try to ignore how far you've fallen.
Ashley will be back, soon. You don't know how long you were asleep or how long she's been out, but you start cooking one of her favourite soups. Potato, onion, carrot, pepper, it sounds (and is!) delicious. And then you add the part she likes. You aren't sure why they sell it at the market... Or, any of her favourites, really. Or why they're as cheap as they are... They positively can't be local. It's not like people farm alligators and snakes and bears anywhere you've heard of... You suppose the shark might be local?
Not that it makes it any worse for her, wherever it comes from. You weren't a fan of meat in the first place, but between Jane and Ashley they could eat an entire ecosystem.
You laugh to yourself, only a little, realizing that at least the bugs would be left behind.
You know that there aren't any knives in the kitchen right now, so you use two forks to rip apart some of the snake and some of the shark for the soup. Ashley said she liked the texture better this way anyway. You hope it wasn't a lie... Though, after the last few weeks, you have no doubt that she would say a can of worms was delicious.
While you wait, you aren't very hungry but you make two more of your sandwiches (this time in the oven because it's a completely different kind of food when it's baked!), and take the time to enjoy the warmth of the oven while you wash dishes. You had... Let them go, for a while. Ash tried to make you feel better by saying we didn't need clean dishes if we didn't have anything to eat off of them... You appreciated the attempt.
Your thoughts are interrupted by the door unlocking. You panick, but only for a moment, before it opens to show your sister...
You freeze, your chest feels like fire. You can feel your heartbeat in your face.
What? Is there something on my face?
She wipes at her face with a hand, and you exhale. You didn't even realize you were holding your breath.
N-No, you're perfect.
I-I mean! You look b-beautiful. Clean! Beautifully... Clean... uh...
Smooth, Juls. Smooth.
Hehehe!
She either doesn't seem to notice or doesn't care, because she bounds over to you and wraps her arms around your shoulders, giggling the whole time, leather creaking against you as she squeezes not quite tightly enough to hurt.
Weeellll, I missed you too, gorgeous-
Her lips press against your shoulder, then your cheek, you feel like you've been lit ablaze. God has mercy on you, though, as she jumps away from you, gesturing to the food being made with an energy that would be near-parody, coming from other people.
Ooohh! Is that-?
Swept up in the moment, feeling your face cool down only enough to make coherent thoughts again, you giggle, nodding eagerly as she gazes at you. An expression you could almost delude into thinking was loving.
Well you suppose it is, in a different way. You find your voice.
Y-Yeah! I used snake and sh-shark, this ti-
She cuts you off with another hug, though much shorter, separating to arm's length after only a few seconds. There's that look again, but she glances away, just past you. The look remains, but as she focuses on you again, it feels like a chilled echo of what came before.
Why don't you wash up before we eat, I'll get all set up on the loveseat.
You look at her confusedly, but she seems to cut off your confusion by pinching your sleeves, wet and soapy from the sink.
When you return from your shared bedroom in your nice hoodie (and some light makeup, just because you felt like it and for no other reason, definitely), the room seems cleaner in a way you can't place, and Ashley is just now pulling your food out of the oven. She looks a little more tired than when you first saw her, not that you were an unbiased viewer at the time. With the click of your door closing, she looks up at you, and you would love to think that her eyes are lingering for reasons other than questioning if her weirdo sister put on makeup. Though... After a few seconds, her eyes narrow sourly.
Maybe it was a little too obvious? or maybe a bad idea entirely. Maybe you should go wash it off and pretend like...
What would you even pretend happened, Julia? Get it togeth- AH SHE'S TALKING TO YOU.
-if you're just staying there?
Wait when did she... get to the couch... Oh, fuck. You almost run, stumbling over her, falling face-first into the loveseat in the process. On the bright side, you get to hear her laughter again. Not manic, it almost seems muted... You wish you hadn't heard it. It almost makes you feel less awkward as you squirm into a comfortable sitting position, though she puts a hand on your shoulder, trapping you (though without any force) in a half-reclined position.
Nothing is going anywhere, Julia... Besides, you don't want to mess up your makeup, right?
Though she sounds amused, there's a notable bite behind her words. They sting with accusation, but the pain behind them sends a dull chill through you. She really is upset, then... Food seems... A lot less appealing, now.
You Are Ashley!
She's upset. Good! She should be. The door is unlocked for less than a day and she thinks she should go on a date!? You hid the bodies and set up one of her favourite movies on the TV, after getting that demon to get groceries, and her plan is to go out with some hussy?
You know you aren't good enough for her. That's always been obvious, but you wish she didn't act like it. Bribe you with food and then leave while you're distracted... Hmph. Does she really think you're that stupid? She hardly made anything for herself, either. Probably a decoy. And the way she was acting before you got back... Clearly you caught her in the middle of something. She didn't think you would be back for a while.
...She isn't crying, but you can see her getting upset. She's realizing her plans are foiled... But it still hurts to see her like this.
All of this hurts. You knew it was coming. You've known it was coming since before you were locked in here. You pull your hand away from her, slipping it into the pocket with your lighter... but no cigarettes. Damn it. The silence is suffocating. You glance back at her, staring at the floor.
Why did you wear makeup, anyway? Does the hussy of your dreams have a thing for it or were you hoping it would help you get lucky?
You try to keep the self-hatred out of your words, but you can still taste the bitterness as they leave your throat.
H-Huh!?
She sounds confused. Probably shocked you were able to deduce her traitorous scheme so quickly!
I don't know who that floozy is, but you should probably call and cancel your oh-so perfect plans.
You gesture menacingly to the phone, which...
...They cut the phone lines.
How did she manage to get a date in here? Carrier pigeon? Did she use one of the neighbor's phones while you were out? Is she hiring a prostitute!?
...None of the phones work, so not that one. Pidgeon, then? You leave the dreadfully confused girl to stew... She probably did something, as you poke your head out onto the balcony.
No feathers or paper... Probably not a carrier pigeon.
You stare at her, suspicion slowly cutting in with doubts as you see her starting to panick...
Fuck. You did... This again.
You sigh, loudly, fingers twitching around your lighter. You try to strike it without removing it from your pocket, using your thumb to snuff the flame and sparks once, then a second time. Then a third. You hope she didn't hear, but you realize she is quietly apologizing into her sleeves... Seeing her like that... Hurts more than the lighter did.
I'm... Sorry. Fuck.
You sit down on the couch, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, literally pulling her out of her panick. You're not sure she heard you the first time.
I'm so sorry, Juls. Fucking shit, I... Can be a monster, sometimes...
She doesn't respond, but you can feel some of the stiffness leave her. You force your brain to remember how to handle situations like these, and verbally go down the checklist in your head, almost rote, but you do your best to convey emotion through the words. It isn't hard, given the fact that you mean each and every one of them.
This is all my fault, you didn't do anything wrong, I'm sorry... I'm not mad at you, I misunderstood and jumped to stupid conclusions...
You pause, trying to recall any forgotten elements as she slowly calms down... You hope. You squeeze her tighter, pulling her in as close as you can in hopes of helping her, as you remember the last thing to say.
Oh... And I still love you. I promise.
You rest your forehead against her temple, hoping that the proximity isn't making things worse.
'm sorry... Fuck...
Your hands feel hot, suspicions replaced with anxiety and burning dread that you were too aggressive this time. She's still quiet, even though she leans back against your touch, only lightly. You can see tears roll down her cheek, and another wave of self-hatred washes over you. You caused it. You're the reason she's crying. You're the reason she's always miserable, it's always you, you fucking useless cunt. She wouldn't be in quarantine or in this apartment if it wasn't for you.
She wouldn't be miserable if you didn't kill her best friend. She would be so much happier if you were simply never born. Everybody would be. The world would be a better place if you were de-
You feel her hand rest on yours. It isn't much, but it shakes you out of your head in time to see her looking directly into your eyes, scared. Still wet with tears, but not confused. Relieved, concerned, terrified. All your fault.
She looks away. She pulls her hand back, but you grab onto it like a lifeline. She looks surprised again, relieved, and you feel her fingers interlace with yours.
It isn't much. But in the silence, it's everything. You elect to hold her close... You don't deserve to be anywhere near her. She doesn't push you away. Nor does she apologize again. Eventually, she simply grabs the remote, and starts the movie, leaning back against you. Something about a college romance where the leads are dared to kiss eachother and it just... Works out.
Eventually, she starts enjoying the movie, you think. At least she starts laughing. You aren't sure... You're never sure, if pretending everything is okay just... Works, for her, or if she genuinely has moved on already. You hope it's the latter, but you know it's probably a masked hatred for you. Holding your hand throughout is probably a decoy.
As a test, you grab one of her sandwiches and hold it up for her to take a bite. She doesn't even think about it, simply doing so without pulling her eyes away from the film.
After going through both sandwiches like that, you start to eat your own food. It's fantastic.. You wait until she's done laughing (one of the leads fell off a couch while trying to be suave. You can't help but giggle yourself, despite the tense atmosphere).
Thanks, Julia... Sor-
She holds up a finger to your lips. Telling you to shush, but she's smiling at you, now.
You do your best to return it, and she just... Watches the movie with you. You laugh, when the credits roll.
Guess you got to go on a date after all, hmmm? Guess your dream girl material gives you panick attacks on the first one, you really know how to pick them, Juls.
She clearly isn't paying attention to you, simply nodding at what you said. Blushing at some of the saucier images shown during the credits. Not the reaction you were hoping for, but still enough for a quick laugh. You swear her blush gets deeper when you do. Maybe she's listening, after all. You decide to test it, pressing a gentle, light kiss to the back of her neck.
I guess now the only thing that's left is the 'getting lucky,' hm?
She jumps out of your arms faster than you've ever seen before, face red as a tomato, staring down at you with an expression you've never seen her wear before, and you lose it, cackling into the silence as she tries and fails to catch her voice. You lose your balance, falling onto your side, laughing so harshly that your ribs start to hurt. She runs off to get something to write on, coming back and shoving a piece of paper with WTF scribbled hastily on it, and you fall off the couch laughing.
She doesn't join you. Eventually, you look back to her, seeing her face contorted with hurt. You suddenly feel very bad for laughing, forcing yourself to stop and sit up again.
Too soon to... Joke about that, huh?
Her face turns to confusion, before corralling itself back into neutrality as she writes.
Pretend that never happened???
Which parts? The whole movie date?
Her face turns red again, your teasing tone not letting up despite everything.
The joke
You put your hands up in surrender, smiling as you do. Thankful she doesn't seem too upset.
Already forgotten. I don't even know what joke I made, I never said it.
You see your sister breathe a long sigh of relief. Is it that wrong of a joke to make? Something stings, realizing that, but you'll ask why not later. When it doesn't look like she might explode.
I'm going to shower. OK?
You stand up, nodding to her, and she rushes into the bathroom, near-sprinting and slamming the door hard behind her. You hear the water start soon after.
With her distracted again... You realize you have a minute to properly dispose of the bodies this time. Swapping out the latex gloves beneath your leather ones, you unlock the blasphemous door yet again. You glance at your cheat sheet one last time, grabbing the pack of candles, your knife, and a piece of chalk from the dresser, and retrieving your gun at the same time. This time, when you leave, you're dragging a body behind you, and it's only a few minutes before you come to retrieve the second.
Chapter 3: Release
Chapter Text
You Are Ashley!
You have two more sacrifices before you do something Julia wouldn't be able to forgive. One of them has to be The Lord of Consumption, but the other one? You'll need to decide on it first, but it isn't exactly an easy pick.
You won't be able to stay here (nor would you want to) for more than another day, two at the most. People will come hunt you down, and you can't just keep killing them. Purely for practical reasons. You might be able to ask The Mayor, but their circle isn't listed in the book, and even then they can't just create a house from nothingness... Legally speaking, that is. Which could cause problems.
Since the next semester of college is starting in a month, you might be able to get in on a false name. You might even be able to share a dorm room, cramped even tighter together than you are now... Best not to think about that, for now. Nor the temptation to summoning Lady Love to stop her from running off.
If people know you've escaped, they'll go after your family first. If you're there, they'd be in as much danger as Julia would, and she wouldn't exactly appreciate that. Not to mention it's still a bad plan.
Maybe... You could summon Lord Unknown, and ask who you might need to deal with to bury this all behind you? Or the Princess of Lies, and get the security guard to issue a false report while you destroy camera footage...
That one seems the most good, but you'd need another sacrifice for that, and Julia... Probably wouldn't appreciate it? You put it on the backburner as you return to the security office. A glance at the cameras shows the sleeping one is still... Sleeping, duh. The first floor has been vacated, and a look around places the twitchy warden in the basement, drinking a cup of coffee.
Looking at the doors again, you only see a single one on the second floor, room 202, that isn't cleared out, the barricade in-place, you can barely make out the letter A from the grainy footage. If it comes down to it, you have a choice between them and your neighbor for the additional sacrifice, but no new tools for actually dealing with your situation. You rifle through your pockets, cursing yourself for not grabbing your cigarettes while you were home. In an effort to not need to bother with it, you start rifling through the drawers of the security desk.
A spare key for... Something, probably the room you're in, but you take it anyway, some pens, pencils, markers, a pack of nicotine gum (which you steal, since they're better to have than to not), calculator... Nothing of real value. Folders, some of which talk about food prices, living expenses... Oh, it's for the guards. You set that down, the next folder is all about organ prices and profits made.
...So that's what's actually going on. Might as well keep it to show to Juls... She might want proof. You tuck it into your jacket before returning to your rummaging, only to turn up with a lease for room 104, bearing the name and picture of one of the guards you already damned, alongside two others, one of whom looks suspiciously like the sleeping guard on the ground floor.
...This might be your only good chance. You take one more glance at the cameras before shutting them down, ejecting the tapes and turning off the computer. The twitchy one is still in the basement, and the sleeping one... Lives upto his reputation. If you're lucky, you have one more sacrifice. If you're not... Well, you suppose you still have a sacrifice. It would be a waste to just kill them... And Juls... Maybe you just don't let her know about this one...
The door was locked, but the key you swiped opened it up just as well. The smell is horrific, like moldy muddy boots with... Everything wrong with them. It almost makes your eyes water, but you can very clearly see a young man, sitting up in bed. It looks like you just woke him up... Shame you weren't quieter, for his sake. You draw your gun, pointing it directly at his forehead.
You're going to stay quiet. One peep out of you, and I'll make sure you get to watch your two little buddies bleed out before I let you join them.
In the darkness, you can see him pale. Clearly he didn't hear what you said, because he thinks talking back is the best idea.
You're not going to get away with this, you-
You press the barrel to his forehead. His eyes close.
One more peep, shit-for-brains. Test me. Go on, give me a reason.
You click the safety of the revolver on, then off again, before pulling back the hammer. You're answered with silence.
Good boy, you're learning. Turn around, on your stomach.
He stays where he is for several seconds, clearly weighing the odds of fighting back, but he's smarter than that. Thankfully, there's enough sheets and pillowcases to bind, gag, hood, and silence him properly.
You Are Ash!
You caught Julia staring at you as you slipped out of the window. That's okay, she won't tell anyone. She's too much of a wimp to get you in trouble. The pajamas she gave you to wear don't have pockets, but you were smart and wore them over your overalls.
Most of all, you're happy they live so close to the orphanage. Running through yard, after yard, after yard, climbing over fences and crawling under barriers, you need to take a break when you're not even halfway there, sitting behind a bush and looking up at the night sky.
Your hand wanders into the pocket of your overalls, and you cheer, quietly, that the little pack of matches hadn't fallen out.
You correct an earlier thought. Most of all, you're thankful that the orphanage was built out of an old wood church.
You keep running, it takes almost 40 minutes before you have the orphanage in sight. You creep quietly, walking upto the building, putting a hand on the wall. Your fingers find an old crack in the timbers.
A match is struck, but you put the entire pack in alongside the lit one, sharp fizzing-striking noises erupt as each match lights in chorus with the first, and as the embers start licking the wood of the old building, you stare. For longer than you should, face getting closer until your nose is bit by the flames, stinging you back to attention.
You run. You don't watch the entire building burn, you stop when you see kids being led out. But you don't see the hag with them. You smile, wickedly, running home as fast as you can, adrenaline pushing you past needing a break until you're climbing through the window. You can just barely see the glow in the distance, but you draw the curtains closed. You're home-free, until you hear her.
A-Ashley? Where did you go?
You giggle, climbing into your bed.
Nowhere, silly. I was right in bed the whole time, you must be hallucinating.
Perhaps she sees your smug smile. Maybe she knows she'd be dismissed if she said anything.
But she never did.
Far from it, in the morning, when your new mom asks you if you knew anything, Juls speaks up just for you. She said you were in bed the whole time, and that she was telling you stories from the bible. You looked at her like she was crazy.
But her mom bought it... And you realized she just might be on your side. Not just a 'friend.'
You Are Julia!
Dear God, why can't she just be a friend? Why are you plagued with the thought of her being something more? Why can't you just be normal and think of her like a sister...
...Well, you still do. But that's hard to remember at times like these, when the hottest water your apartment provides still feels like ice against your skin. When all you can think about is how she grabs onto you like you're the only thing in the entire world. How she refuses to let go, and whispers sweet words into your ear. How her lips felt against your neck.
It's so hard to think like this, sitting on the floor of the shower, legs spooled out because even your thighs rubbing together is overwhelming right now. You're going to... Have to take care of this. Damn it all. You lean your head back, letting the water hit your face as you try to clear your head, trying to will yourself to stop having those thoughts.
It doesn't work, just like all of the other times you've tried, but this time is somehow even worse, casting your mind into a pit of perversions as you think of your sister.
It's so easy for you to think of her hands, not simply wrapping around your body but running along it, following your hips, your ribs, before finding the swell of your chest. Your own hands follow hers, tracing the feeling of 'her' hands, slowly rising and cupping your breasts, fingers digging in softly, her nails clawing a sound from your throat as she scrapes across the sensitive flesh.
Though your back is against the wall, it almost feels warm and soft as you press back against it, your mind remembering the feeling of her chest pressing against your back (she seemed more insistent to do so all throughout the last few days).
You feel one hand wander down from your breast, lightly scraping her nails down your stomach, reaching your thigh before gripping tightly. You gasp as her nails dig in, drawing your legs further apart as her other rolls the sensitive bud of your nipple around, squeezing, tugging, forcing moans from your throat. You can feel her press in against you, lips pressed against your neck, before they come up to graze your ear.
You're doing so well, Juls... Let it out... I'm the only one who can hear you...
You gasp, your mind turning hazy and mushy as her hand finds your core, gingerly tracing your outer lips, giving you the phantasm of sensation as she dances around your most sensitive place.
A-Ash... Please...
You can feel her giggle, emanating through your chest as it reaches your ear, sending your heart into a dark cacophony when her breath graces your ear. Husky, desperate, hungry against you.
Aww... How adorable... And pathetic.
Her fingers ghost across your core again, you whimper, forming into a moan as they only just flick across your clit before her hands pull away.
You're going to need to beg so much better than that, my darling sister...
Words aren't coming easily, whimpers rolling out of your mouth without your will.
P-Please, I n-need you, y-your fingers, I'll do anything, p-please, A-Ash-
Her hand comes down on your core, roughly, but not painfully, her palm pressing and grinding against your clit without any warning, and you see stars. She twists your nipple, just enough to hurt as her finger starts to probe into your folds. She doesn't give you any time to adjust, plunging as far as her finger will enter, palming across your clit, fingers grinding across your outer lips before dragging everything back, the now-wet digit dragging across the nub.
You don't know how long, you hear her husky breath in your ear, teeth nipping at the lobe as you get closer to that edge. A second finger joins the first, nearly uncomfortable to the point of unenjoyment, prolonging your experience, dragging it out further, forcing you to crave more, and more of her as her, as her thumb takes to slowly circling your clit, whenever her fingers aren’t dragging across it.
You're taking me so well, Juls... You're being so good, such a good sister for me...
It feels like your brain is melting under her touch, you try to say something, anything, but all that comes out is a gasping little moan as her hand moves from one breast, to the other.
Her fingers draw back, pressing down hard against your clit, pinching and rolling it with her thumb. She tugs at your nipple, whispering before she sinks her teeth into your neck.
Let go for me, sis... I love you-
Your vision goes white, a near-shout from your lips as your body locks with tension, legs kicking out around her hand, desperately pressing back against you, before it all crashes down, tension releasing all at once, leaving your body limp, gasping for air, heart hammering like a thousand drums. She brings her hand to your mouth, tells you to clean her...
Your fantasy crumbles, when your tongue laps across your fingers. As though a blizzard shot through your body, the water cascading down your body feeling colder than ever before, it's sound almost drowned out by your heartbeat and heaving breaths. Your back presses against the tile wall. You're too limp to curl into a ball, so you fall onto your side.
You do your best not to cry, do your best not to dwell on how alone you feel. You aren't sure if you do or not, your mind and memories are in a haze.
You got your release, at least. Aren't you satisfied yet?
You Are Ashley!
Your ropework isn't perfect. Clearly it's a sign from the dark forces that you need to tie people up more, but it'll do. You don't know how being asleep might fuck up a demon's work, so you need to wait until the twitchy guard is nearby before you summon the Princess in the first place, but you can prepare the ritual until that point. Chalking the wood floor, placing the candles... Audio. Glancing around, there's a cassette player you can use. You steal one of the knives from the kitchen, so as to not dirty yours with this piggy's blood, and just like before, the chalk begins to glow red as burning blood, but you don't call the demon yet. You wait.
Your sacrifice is grumbling. Maybe trying to yell, you aren't sure... But maybe it would be better if he did. You unlock, then leave the door ajar, pulling the makeshift gag from his mouth before hiding behind the door. Your gun is drawn, but you know you don't need it.
HELP! MARCUS YOU CUNT SAVE ME!
He looks in your direction, eyes covered but having heard your general location.
YOU FUCKING FREAKY BITCH, YOU AREN'T GOING TO GET AWAY WITH THIS! MARCUUUSSSS!
You hear running, and you smile.
Come out come out, Princess of Lies~! I have a soul for you, I just need help messing with one man... And he's also going to be here within the minute!
Huh, would you look at that. Even demons can't resist fast food. You hear the guard, Marcus apparently, stop at the door in shock as the circle roars to life.
You don't have much time to bargain, but you have enough. By the end of it, Marcus was just sleeping in bed, dreaming up stories about a cult that somehow managed to escape, and you're sauntering over to your last sacrifice to clean up the mess.
You Are Julia!
Another roar from beyond anything sane draws you out of your head. Another one dead because of you. You aren't sure how long you've been in the shower, but you're starting to get wrinkles, so it's time to get out. Turning the knob, getting dressed in your most comfortable tanktop and armwarmers, leaving the room all before you open your eyes. You're not sure why you bother turning the lights on, really.
The orange glow from beyond the view of your balcony says it's getting close to bed time, not that either of you have been keeping a real schedule. Your cheeks flush, thinking Ashley might come cuddle you tonight. Maybe. If you're good.
Stop that, you freak. You need tea. Reheating the water only takes a minute, and within five you have some tea in-hand, and in another five you're bundled up under a blanket in front of the TV. Not watching anything, just waiting, taking a moment to calm down and... Breathe. It's hard to sit at home, knowing someone you love is out playing hero... Or, supervillain, you guess, but really what... Are you going to do? This isn't an adventure, it's... Murders. And a lot of-
Another roar, from far below. At least four, now, in part because of you. Well, if you include all the people who died because you help cover up what she does... You shiver under the blanket, hesitant to even start putting the numbers together.
Not that you would need to think much about them. She and Jane have always... Kept you out of things like this. You can almost hear Jane's voice from years ago.
Princesses don't have to fight! They have knights to kick ass for them, and they get to be in charge!
You almost laugh. She said that when someone had started picking on her and Ashley. Of course, she was justifying Ashley sending them both to the doctor and stabbing one with a pair of scissors... Though he did try to cut off the sleeves of your favourite hoodie.
And when the principle called Ashley and you to talk about the incident? You gave them their best smile, said Ashley was just protecting you, and the bullies were trying to stab you with scissors first, that they had done it before and Ash wasn't letting it happen again.
At best, it was a stretching of the truth. But really... It always has been your job to look pretty and lie, so Ashley doesn't get in trouble. So she doesn't hate you. So you can pretend she's with you for a little bit longer.
Always back in an empty castle while other people solve your problems. You can't even stop yourself from causing problems, and now you can't even handle your own sins. Are you even trying to not be a fuckup?
Are you even trying to be a good christian anymore? Letting your hot, perfect insane psychopath sister sacrifice people to demons can't even remotely be lied about or covered up. You didn't even try to fight back, hell, all you did was force her to get your permission! All you did was force yourself out of plausible deniability. Filthy fucking sinner.
Murder, adultery (it counts, even if it's in your head you fucking pervert), theft, bearing false witness, cursing using His name, demon worship (well, you enable someone else's, but that counts), not keeping sundays holy, you definitely haven't honoured your mother and father, and you've spent the entire month coveting others for having the things you didn't.
...At least you didn't commit idolatry, you fucking sinner. You worthless, pathetic, unholy sack of-
The door is flung open, breaking your thoughts. You don't look up, but you recognize the click of Ashley's heels from anywhere. You obsessive little pervert. She flops down onto the loveseat sofa beside you, throwing an arm across your shoulders. You hate that you can feel her warmth through the blanket.
Heyyy there, gorgeous. Guess what I found, hm?
You finally look at her, though you refuse to meet her eyes so soon after... What you did. She's holding out a piece of paper for you, something about the price of organs and profits... Selling them? Your face must betray your confusion, because she groans, softly. You know this is her 'joke annoyed' sound, not her actually annoyed sound.
I got this from the wardens' office, Juls. And they've written everyone's blood type on the doors...
...W-Wait, are you...
You pause only for a moment, looking closer to her head but... Not, your eyes focusing on her shoulder instead.
There was n-no parasite?
Juls, you're missing the important part. They're harvesting organs, illegally, from the people here. It's a big corporation...
...But th-they had it coming. Is that w-what you're saying, Ashley?
You finally meet her eyes, the same confident, powerful look that you fell for she always has at times like this. She's smiling, too, not a manic one, just wide, commanding, kissable, reassuring.
I was going to say that this was self-defense... But I like the way you said it more.
She tosses the papers onto the table, eyes never leaving yours. Your face must be glowing with how warm it is, and it only burns hotter as she giggles, pulling you into a tighter hug. You need to squirm out of the blanket a little, but you wrap your arms around her midsection. Your head is pulled against her amazing, soft b- chest, your heart feels like it's exploding in your chest.
Her lips press against your scalp, and as her hand gently rubs your back, a... Sound, is clawed out from your throat. She pauses. Fuck. You god-damned pervert why are you always ruin-
Oh my, Juls. Feeling sensitive today?
She laughs at you. It feels like she dumped a bucket of ice water across you, even when her hand starts to gently move once more. You know it's... Platonic. Familial, even. That's... Why it hurts so much, when she squeezes you in, tighter. Almost enough to hurt physically, too. You clam up, and her hand stills again.
Julia... Is everything... Alright?
You don't even know how you're supposed to answer that. The answer is usually no. But you don't want her to feel like she's doing something wrong. It's like she can feel your silence, she pushes you off of her, so you're both sitting, though her legs still casually wrap around your waist. You look at her delicious, plump- legs, since you can't bring yourself to look at her face again.
She doesn't accept that reality, gently grabbing your chin and turning your head. She doesn't force eye-contact, but you have few places to look aside from her lips, her neck, her breasts... All inches away.
Do you need something to write on?
...You feel bad, that she's being considerate while you're... like this. You shake your head, forcing words out when none wish to be spoken.
N-No... I'm sorry...
She lets the silence hold, waiting for you to say more, but after realizing you have little more to say, she squeezes against you, forehead bumping yours before she untangles from you. You think she's going to leave, that she somehow deduced your impure thoughts.
Oh, how wrong you were. You realize only after she pushes you back against the couch, straddling your legs, using her arms to box your head in, limiting your field of view to... All the parts you can't bring yourself to see, right now.
...You're mad at me, aren't you? About earlier, and the... Demon... stuff...
Confusion strikes you like lightning, and you can't help but look at her face, now. You can see the uncertainty and pain when you glimpse her eyes, mouth curled into a shape of regret. She thinks you blame her, instead of... Yourself?
N-No, Ash... I'm... I could n-never be mad at you.
You can't even look at me right now... You probably hate-
You force yourself to meet her eyes. It's uncomfortable, it's painful, seeing the fear in her eyes, the disbelief. The distrust. But beneath them, seeing the hope...
Ashley... I l-love you. I'm not upset with you... I-I'm not mad at you... I promise.
She wants to believe you. You gaze into her eyes, letting her see... You aren't mad, or upset. It's... terrifying. Being so close to her... Not being able to hide. You look away, but her hand catches you, resting on your cheek, guiding your eyes back to hers. Your breath catches in your throat.
Why do you look so scared? I'm... Not that bad, am I?
Your heart throbs. You shake your head, eyes never leaving hers. Your throat feels dry.
No, y-you're perfect, Ashley...
Your eyes flicker down to her lips, pretty pink tongue poking out to wet them before you return to her eyes. They're closer, now-
You feel her lips press against yours. Her eyes flicker shut... Yours do the same, though you're hardly aware of it. You tilt your head, locking your lips against hers, feeling the softness, the warmth. The love, and care... You're distantly aware of a tear rolling down your cheek, of her hand getting lost in your hair. Of yours wrapping around her waist, holding her as close as you can.
You aren't sure how long time passes before your lungs are screaming, and you need to pull away. Your eyes flutter open, she's breathing just as hard as you are, eyes wide. You don't manage to catch your breath, before the two of you meet again, this time, hotter. Hungrier. Her tongue rolls against your lips, you let her in, she pushes you down. And all you can think is how she tastes like heaven.
Chapter Text
You Are Ash!
You're eating lunch, in the corner, with your sister. Julia has been sitting over here to avoid bullies, or more accurately, so you'll avoid her bullies. Not that it really works, it just means you get into fights between classes, or before and after school. But it's a worthwhile trade, since she started making lunches at home for both of you to enjoy. She even bought a lunchbox with a chained up skull and crossbones on it.
Which you have since used as a weapon. For her sake, of course. You almost think she got a heavy metal one for that very purpose, because after you knocked some bitch's teeth in (she called Juls a pig, she deserved it), she just wiped the blood off of it and made sure your food was okay.
But no such problems arose today, leaving the two of you to yourselves and a peaceful lunch. You got her to try something new, this unique, absolutely rare spice called pepper.
To generally positive results.
She took a risk with your food, too. Not by changing a recipe, but by making kebabs on the skewer, and leaving them on the pointy metal rods. You can almost believe she trusts you not to stab someone with them, and it almost feels nice to know that.
If all these cunts left the two of you alone, you wouldn't have to stab any of them.
Well, it does seem to have worked today. No stabbings are held, and when you're both done eating, you get to step outside to smoke.
Rather, the teachers don't bother stopping you from going outside, so you don't try to smoke inside. Unfortunately for you, your normal place (a bench near the school garden) is already occupied by Jackass, Cunt, Bitch, and Ugly Whore. You can already feel Juls tensing up beside you when they enter eyeline, and you're already turning around when you hear them walk in your direction. You let out a harsh sigh, flicking the lighter in your pocket, using your finger to catch the sparks and snuff the flame as you look to Julia.
Are you gonna be cranky if I-
She cuts you off without sound, shaking her head with a harsh, disappointed frown. Her entire body droops when she's like this. You bring a cigarette to your lips, lighting it without slowing down. Ever the gentlewoman you are, you offer one to your sister, though like always you end up putting that one back in your pocket. She doesn't smoke, probably never will.
Aww, look at the little lost lambs Calvin. Whatever should we do~?
You forgot. Cunt likes to try to sound clever, even though he reuses that line any time he sees the two of you. You do your best to usher Julia to just keep walking.
The ways I see it, I figures we gotta gobble'em up for bein' in our territory.
He proceeds to make a profane noise with his tongue, before walking in-step with the two of you.
Bitch and Ugly Whore proceed to laugh, but when he tries to put a hand on Julia's shoulder, you're already swinging.
Alright, you little firebug, we need to talk.
Your eyes narrow in on your older sister. You spot your younger behind her, trying to appear inconspicuous, but failing miserably. You don't know what she said. But you know it can't be good. Your hand flicks to your pocket, wrapping around the lighter as you try to stave off the burning feelings of betrayal.
She puts her hands up. You relax, even if only a little. If she's wanting to avoid a fight, that means she isn't mad. You flick the lighter when she starts to talk.
You can't keep getting into fights-
A scream starts to roll from your lips, but she quickly covers your mouth with her hand, pushing you back until your back hits the door. You try to scratch and bite at her, but her other hand is more than adept at fending off the two of yours, pinning them above your head against the wood, and your teeth meet leather.
She's wearing a glove on only one hand. She expected this to happen. It almost wants to make you scream more, but she knows you so well it's almost flattering.
Calm down, alright? You can't keep getting into fights without knowing what you're doing, you keep getting Juls all scared, and you suck at this.
She pulls her hand away from your mouth.
Well you suck with your people skills. You should've just said that from the start!
You're one to talk, Ash! You started biting and screaming before I even got a sentence out.
Well, yeah, but-!
She covers your mouth again. It's surprisingly effective, even if it makes you narrow your eyes into a death glare.
Stop that. Do you wanna learn how to turn people into pretzels, or keep making Julia cry?
Well now, you feel like shit. She can tell, you can feel her backtracking before another word leaves her mouth, drawing her hand back as she does.
Okay, how about this. If you can get out of a hold, I'll get you that fancy little lighter that mom wouldn't get you.
...And if I can't?
...Then you have to read the entire book I got you for christmas last year.
Your eyes narrow. A most dangerous game, but you stand to have much more to gain, than to lose.
You aren't able to get away from her, until she teaches you how, condemning you to several nights of reading. But she got you the lighter anyway, since you eventually got out. It's times like these that remind you just how much you love your sisters.
You Are Ashley!
Your heart is beating so hard you can feel it in your ears, your eyes glued comfortably shut as almost all your senses are focused on the woman beneath you. Your tongue slides across hers, lips parting ways only to allow the sound of ragged, desperate breathing to pour out from you both, before locking together once more. Her arms are tight around your hips, pulling, grinding you against her own as you straddle her, burning heat blossoming throughout your body.
Your hands glide across her body, your left coming to rest on her cheek, holding her close as your fingers find her hair, twirling it loosely, as your other runs down the swell of her breast, thumb casually hooking her tanktop. You let it go, letting the fabric guide your hand to the rim of her top, and you slip your hand against your sister's skin. She shivers with the sensation, whining gently into your mouth as you find her bra, before her head falls back against the loveseat, a thin line of fluid connecting your mouth to hers.
Just far enough that when your eyes open again, you can gaze into hers. Count the freckles on her face, appreciate the red of her cheeks. The way her tears roll down- Why is she crying? Your hand withers away from her breast, and it takes her nearly a full second to look confused, and in turn, worried. You pushed her too far, you useless fucking-
A-Ashley...?
You take a breath. Steady. Don't make things worse for once, would you?
H-hey, Juls! Sorry, about that, I don't know what-
Another tear rolls down her cheek, but now she looks terrified. You fucking monster. You glance towards the balcony, perhaps on instinct, but she grabs your shirt. Her other never left your hips, in fact she's pulling even harder now.
Ashley. S-Stop, please... What... Happened? What did I do wrong?
You blink at her. Eyebrows creasing as you stare back into her gorgeous eyes.
You... I'm the one who... Caused the issue, sis.
She looks at you in pure confusion. Somewhat disoriented, slowly-cooling confusion.
Weren't you the one crying?
She releases your shirt, bringing it upto her own face, as if to check. Is it for show? You can't tell if she's pretending if everything is hunky-dory again or if something else is going on. The way she looks away... Fuck, she's crying again. You bring up a hand to cup her cheek, not sure... How to recover from this situation anymore, when you hear her.
I was so... H-Happy...
Fuck. You... Did the thing, again, you useless asshole. Make it better.
You don't deserve the enjoyment that comes with this, but you guide your lips down to her cheek, kissing away one of the tears, the slightly-salty flavour instantly coating your lips as she turns back to you, not meeting your eyes. You kiss the tip of her nose, this time.
...I was happy too, Juls.
Her hand moves to cover yours, still resting against her cheek. You bring the other to her shoulder, resting it there, as her arm relaxes, subtly, around your hips.
Th-Then why did... We stop?
I just-... You were crying. I... Didn't want to hurt you.
She finds your gaze, and your heart aches with the pain in hers. The hope, the fear, the cold feeling of rejection that you never meant to give her. The look behind her eyes slowly softens, realizing... hopeful, that you're telling the truth. The hand around your hips retracts, resting just above your butt, fingers hooking through one of the loops, while her other hand laces it's fingers with yours.
D-Don't... Stop, this time. U-Unless you want to! Or... I say...
Your heart throbs, near-painfully in your chest, and you bring your lips to hers once more. It's slow, softer, like the first time, despite the hunger of the second. You fall against her, breasts pressing together as the two of you rekindle the atmosphere. Your free hand grips onto her hip, thumb pressing into the divot, holding as tightly as you can as her lips part for you once more.
Her tongue meets yours, and you feel a low rumbling moan emanate from your throat. Your fingers unlace from hers, squirming their way between you to grope her (admittedly larger-than-yours) breast, squeezing through her bra and the thin tank top. Despite the padding, her reaction is immediate, whining into your mouth, body arching against your own. Her free hand slides down, joining the other as they both round your rear, heat pushed through you as they squeeze down. You moan, softly, and your hands become more adventurous, rolling her tank top up before unclasping her bra, lips stubbornly refusing to part from hers for even a moment.
Until, unfortunately, they have to. Her hands leave your ass behind, rising to allow you to undress her, leaving her topless, save for her arm warmers. You freeze, mouth near-watering at the sight, seeing freckles pepper across her chest, rosy pink nipples, stiffened in pleasure. Your mouth finds hers once more, but only for a moment, before your lips find her neck. Kissing, suckling at the skin before continuing down, leaving wet marks across her chest, your heart beating to the sound of her high-pitched, breathy moans, each one more desperate than the last.
Just before you reach the perky peak of her breast, you hear her speak, the words only barely coherent, yet you agree with them without a second thought.
M-Maybe... Bedroom...
You pick her up, as you would your bride... Well, that's basically what you're doing, after all, and march her into your shared bedroom.
You Are Julia!
You thought your heart would burst nearly a dozen times in the last ten minutes alone, but as she picks you up... Pulls you close, kisses you like she loves you, filling your head with the taste of smoke and something sweet, something distinctly Ashley... More tears slip from your eyes, rolling down your cheeks as the door clicks behind you.
And then you feel it stop, as she throws you onto her bed. Like you weigh nothing... Like you're hers and nobody else's. You watch her throw her shirt, off to the side, her bra quickly following before she drops her bottoms. Though the room is dark you can see... Her. Every inch of pale, smooth skin, not at all made worse by the myriad of scars and burns, or the bandage from the morning.
You reach out, pulling her in against you as your lips crash together, legs parting as her knee finds it's place between your thighs, feeling like fire as it graces against your core.
A low groan escapes your lips, and you lift your own knee, to mirror Ashley's, but she pushes it down with a hand, gripping your thigh, silently telling you not to move it before moving on, nails gently trailing against your skin, letting trails of embers blossom in their wake. A light, stinging pain that feels divine as her hands once more find your breasts. Her lips pull away from yours, and her thigh presses hard against you, the fabric of your pants (which you desperately want to remove) dragging against your core. You cover your mouth with a hand, muffling your moan into a softer sound.
Until she snatches it away from your mouth, pinning both of your wrists above your head, a tingling, perfect pain radiating out from her hand.
Don't do that again, Juls... I like hearing you...
You're enveloped by a rush of heat, and your lips desperately try to meet hers once more, only to be greeted by giggling air. She shifts her knee, this time letting her entire thigh rub against your heat, turning your protest into a long, high-pitched moan. Your hips follow as she pulls it back, arching your back desperately for more, but she quickly presses you down with her free hand, leaving you to desperate, shuddering breaths, eyes glued to hers in the darkness.
You're so eager, sis. Honestly, if you weren't so hot, it would be kinda pathetic.
You involuntarily squirm beneath her, and she quickly rewards you with a loving giggle, before kissing your neck. Her free hand finds your breast, squeezing down as her teeth sink in. Sharp, rough pain claws another long moan from you, whimpering softly as she suckles on your flesh.
F-Fuck me, Ash, I- Ah-
She nips at your neck and collar, suckling just enough to reduce you to a shivering puddle before her lips sink down to your nipple. Her knee curls against you once more, and you feel the tension in your body quickly building, back arching into her touch, your eyes flutter closed.
And she pulls away. Her knee leaves you, her hand draws back to your wrists, her lips suck and pop off of your nipple, leaving you squirming, whining, frustrated, confused. Her lips grace yours, you can feel her smile, but she pulls away far too soon.
A-Ash, why-
She giggles down at you, her free hand following down, nails trailing across your body, hooking into the waistband of your pants.
You know... This can't be a one time thing, right?
You nod, eagerly. Her hand slips into your pants, leaving a trail of fire in it's wake.
And so... We're going to be together. Just the two of us... Right, Julia?
You nod again, your heart bursting in your chest.
Say it... Say it, sis.
J-Just the t-two of us, Ashley...
Her fingers graze your clit, and your breath catches.
And that means... I'm all yours. And you're all mine. Isn't that right?
You try to conjure the words, but her fingers find your button again, this time trailing a soft circle around it.
Say it.
You whimper, her mouth is so close to yours you can feel her breath.
I-I'm all yours, si-
Her lips meet yours, her fingers press harder as they circle, occasionally flicking across your clit. She lets go of your wrists, coming down to cup your cheek. Your arms wrap around her, and your every sense becomes bombarded.
Say my name, Julia.
I'm yours, Ashl-!
Her lips crash into yours, hungry, hot. You moan her name as best you can as her tongue pushes into your mouth. It's like a mantra, rolling from your throat as her fingers work their magic.
It doesn't take long until she throws you over that edge, but she doesn't let up. You spend long, rapturous minutes with your world confined to smoke, heat, and Ash.
You aren't sure how long passes, before that burning passion is replaced by slow, loving kisses. She holds you so tightly it's almost painful, and your arms are around her hips just as tightly. Your head is swimming, drowning in her, you breathe her air, you feel her breath, her tongue, her arms around you. Her hair tickling your face, even though you've shifted onto your sides.
She pulls away, kisses trailing to your cheek, then your forehead as you catch your breath. You can feel her hand clench and unclench, and you can't help but giggle against her chest. Her lips press against your hair, before pulling away.
Did I do something funny...?
It... felt like she cut herself off. You look up, into her eyes, and she meets them, with a... slightly forced smile. You press your lips to hers, to try and fix it, and while she seems to relax, it's still there, her feet anxiously wrapping around your calf.
No, just... Y-Your hand, being sore. I... Sorry.
You break eye contact, but her other hand cups your cheek, forcing you to keep it. Her eyes search yours, as though trying to find some regret or qualm with what happened. You nuzzle against her hand, maintaining that contact for several seconds before leaning in and kissing her again, lingering until her eyes flutter closed, before yours do the same.
This time, you push her back, not quite straddling her by the time you separate. It takes a moment for her to open her eyes, though you still see the anxiety in them. You do your best to cup her cheek, smile with all the love in the world, but little changes.
D-Did you mean... What you said? A-About us... Being together?
You hit the nail on the head. You realize just how vulnerable she is, right now. As though she's worried you would find some way to reject her, after everything.
O-Of course I did!
She almost sounds offended at the suggestion that she didn't. You lean in to kiss her again, but she turns her head at the last second. You kiss her cheek anyway.
Did you?
I-I meant every word, Ashley.
Her eyes meet yours. She wants to believe you. You rest your forehead against hers, noses just touching in the process.
Do you want me to say it, again?
She almost flinches, as though you caught her in some sort of scheme. Your heart aches, seeing her like this, so you start speaking before she gives any response.
I promise... I l-love you, Ashley. I love you as a friend, I love you as a sister...
You press a kiss to her cheek.
I love you as a... W-Whatever we are. C-Can I say... Girlfriend?
She nods, her eyes meeting yours properly once again. You take a deep breath, corralling your voice so it doesn't give out.
Then... I love you as my girlfriend, too. I'm all yours... O-Only, yours, if... You would be m-mine, too?
She wants to believe you. She so desperately wants to think you aren't trying to trick her in some way. You kiss her cheek, as she turns her head again.
What happens... When you find someone better than me? Or more attractive?
You kiss her temple, now, the pain in your chest throbbing as you shift your arms around her shoulders.
I'm not going to find s-someone better, A-
Bullshit-!
If I do... A-And that's a big 'if,' sis... I'll tell you.
You see her face drop, you kiss her forehead.
I'll tell you. And then I'll remind you... That I'm yours. Just yours. N-No matter what.
She looks confused, but when her eyes meet yours again, you kiss her on the tip of her nose. The ghost of a smile twitches onto her face.
...And then I'll tell the h-hussy to go away.
She laughs, a light airy thing that makes your heart do somersaults.
And I'll p-prove I'm yours... Every time, something like that happens.
...Promise?
I promise, s-sis.
Swear on it... With a kiss-
You don't wait for her to finish her sentence before you press your lips to hers. You feel her hands clench, grabbing your arm warmers, as you hold her close. One of your hands drifts up to cup her cheek, catching a stray tear. Your other hand joins the first, lovingly holding her face to yours until her hands relax, falling down to rest at your hips.
I promise, sis. With every fiber of my being. I'm yours, if you would be m-mine, too.
O-Of course I'll be yours, you idiot!
Despite the tender moment being ruined, all you can do is laugh, pulling her in close again. She joins you, sharing in an extended laughing fit that helps dispel any tension left between you.
At some point you fall onto your sides, clinging tightly to the other. Sharing kisses, some short, others longer, some quick and cute, when some are so fiery they leave you to question if you should push for another round.
But that question is answered by the exhaustion, which had been slowly mounting over the day. Eventually you hear her snoring, a precious, light sound that has never failed to make you want to sleep alongside her. You wrap one of her blankets around you both, pressing your forehead against hers, sharing her warmth, as you drift off into peaceful dreams.
You Are Ashley!
You awaken next to your sister, arms tightly wrapped around your naked form, memories of the night before coming to mind before you've even opened your eyes.
She said she was yours. Together, forever, just the two of you. Fat chance it's actually true, she'll find some hussy to replace you by the time you've left the apartment...
But she did swear on it. Your heart does somersaults as you remember... Her lips pressing against yours. How soft and sweet and warm every inch of her was. How... Open she was.
...This is too much for your brain, right now. You carefully untangle yourself, sliding out of bed with practiced silence, making a quick stop by your desk to write her a note-
What... Do you even write to her, this time? Really if you weren't craving a smoke you wouldn't be getting out of bed at all, you know how you would panick if she wasn't there, when you woke up.
For now, it's a simple note, to let her know you weren't more than a dozen feet away, placing it on your pillow. Hoping you would be back before she woke up.
You grab your pencils and your sketchbook, grabbing your leather jacket on the way into the living room. With nothing amiss, you fish your lighter out of your pocket, sit on the couch, and begin drawing. You casually grab a cigarette from your box, pulling it out with your lips, and lighting it without looking away from the page, taking a long, slow drag as you start.
It isn't a perfect drawing, but you know it doesn't need to be. You take your time with it, with every line remembering another kiss, another touch, another noise. Every second of the night before becoming a line on the page, before you shade and clean everything with every ounce of love you feel for her. Every bit of hope you have that... She really will be yours.
You don't label it. But after tearing it out, you flip the page over, and write... Well, it's a shitty attempt. But you try to write poetry, like the kind she likes to read. It's supposed to be the emotions that count, right?
When you put the pencils down, you don't feel like you've finished it, and yet you have nothing more to add. You kill your cigarette, leaving the butt in the tray as you walk back into your room.
You're about to crawl into bed with her, when a familiar piece of music reaches your ear. Except it's not coming from your ritual room, it's coming from the wall, which separates you and your neighbor. It's not uncommon to hear, but as the roar shakes the building...
Julia didn't wake up. You leave the page in the bed next to her, right on your pillow, and scribble another note, to go with the first. You move fast, though as quietly as you can until reaching the hall (having delayed only long enough to throw on a pair of leggings and a jacket), lighting another cigarette as you put your ear to your neighbor's door. Muffled voices, you can't understand most of the words, until a scream. Your neighbor, followed by a rumbling shock through the building.
And in the minute after it's wake, you hear the stairwell door open. You spring up, reaching for your gun-
That you kept in your other jacket.
You Are Julia!
For the first time in so long, as you awaken, your head isn't pounding like a hammer. You take it as a small win. Your dreams were... dangerously tantalizing, a thick, nervous cold settling over you before you open your eyes, contemplating how much quarantine is effecting you, even with food in your system. You and Ashley... It would be a dream come true, but there's no way she would be okay with you, nevermind... Do all of that, right after your first kiss. But your dreams are dreams for a reason. If only they included Jane, but you suppose that isn't as realistic for your mind to work around. You grasp at your cross, hoping to find some warmth, but pause.
It isn't there. You take a deep breath, opening your eyes to see you've woken up in Ashley's bed. A sticky residue is left on your thighs, and as your hand runs up to your neck, it stings...
Right where she bit you.
It wasn't a dream. Your hand reaches for where she should be, but all you find is the crinkle of paper. It's hard to read in the low-light, but your eyes settle on the words written by her. You're disappointed, seeing none of her sketches.
Just stepped out to smoke, I'll be back soon love! (the entire sentence, though especially the last word, are surrounded with little hearts.)
Heard the neighbor summon a demon. Gonna check it out, I'll be right back! I love you. XOXOXOXO, J+A forever.
...It really wasn't a dream. Tears slip from your eyes, and your mind starts racing, your heart beating like a hammer, you can feel it in your face. You... You fucking did that!
Your mind reels. Her lips were so soft Her hands were so strong, she lit every inch of you on fire and you begged for more. You said you were hers.
You feel heat rush to your face. She said it to you, too. Does that mean you're... Dating? Married, somehow? I mean you have the same last name anything is possible, right? Is this normal, now? What are you supposed to do when she comes back, hug her? Kiss her? Is she going to push you against the wall?
You subconsciously rub your thighs together as you cover your face in your hands.
She was so beautiful... She always is, of course. But remembering her above you, your hands pinned, her hair falling into your face... Your head is filled with smoke and fuzzy feelings. How are you supposed to think like this?
You look around the room for any other traces of her, and on her pillow you see... Art.
You swallow thickly, as you grab it. Gently, at the corner, as though you may tear it otherwise.
It's a heart, beautifully sketched and layered with shades of red and pink and yellow. Rather... It seems yellow has filled each and every split and crack between the other colours, curving, swooping lines filling in exactly where the others had let off, strewn throughout the drawing, all meeting in the centre. It seems she started by filling it in black, but so many layers of yellow and red had been redrawn over it that the dim shade is hardly noticeable, replaced by a beautiful near-golden colour. Your breath catches in your throat, but your fingers feel something on the back of it. Flipping the page as carefully, reverently as possible, you are greeted with... A note... A letter? After the first line, you correct yourself again. A poem, for your eyes only.
I found my light at the end of the tunnel.
Most people only die once, but I've had two.
If they did, they would know.
That in everyone's heart, is someone like you.
The light for my shadows, and the bright to my flame.
I'd ask you to marry me, if we hadn't the same name.
But now I know, the oceans of fire down below
Can't warm me, as much as a candle, of thee.
Yours, forever.
Got Ashley's Heart!
Notes:
Not that the story is over or anything, but the fifth chapter will definitely take a bit longer to come out. While I'm here, I'll encourage the comments and all because I like feedback, but I'm also going to take a moment to indulge a bit of character analysis.
Specifically for Ashley, there's a lot to be said about how her (in the game) personality is directly shaped and molded to fit Andrew's, which makes her an especially interesting study in how a character changes with her environment. In this story, her environment is entirely redefined at a certain point, and I've had a lot of enjoyment flipping character traits on their head because of it.
The one I'm very fond of currently is the fact that in the game, she doesn't get her hands dirty if she can get Andrew to do it. Why that is isn't perfectly formulated in my head, when she was younger (child/teen both) she got into fights and bit people, and was generally much more confrontational. I thought of it like a play on the whole 'knight and helpless maiden' angle, the knight gets their hands dirty.
In this story, she is the knight, not the damsel. Of course with the changes, she's not as directly mentally involved in the fantastical, everything is games and wonder.
Really though, most of the changes come about through the idea that Andrew can take a lot of punches before speaking up about it. Julia really can't. She might not directly say something, but she visibly gets nervous, or anxious, or scared, or cries. She's much more emotionally open, and frankly, a lot less manipulative. That change alone gives Ash the direct, immediate feedback for a lot of her actions. Combine with the fact that Andrew acts as Unwilling Accomplice most of the time, where Julia (as I've written and interpreted her) would be more along the lines of Eager Accomplice for a lot of shenanigans. She's desperate for attention and understanding (and in general I think her Vision Room sequence and her letter to Andrew reveal a lot about her).
Of course there's other majour changes too. Between her natural fascination with demons, to the interest in smoking, and the getting into fights constantly, or when she just... Randomly tried to burn the newspaper Andrew was reading? A lot of these traits get displayed at a young age, and I did my best to play it through. Alongside the idea that she's actually with people who want to foster her growth and development as a person. I only quickly mentioned it, but she IS going to college with Julia, and specifically she's an art student. Yes, her artwork is a lot better than what she can do in the game. It's one of many details where the original story shows Andrew and Renee recognize it's bad, and only encourage it to distract her. Whatever makes her less annoying, right? Not the case in this story.
This is a long story short of; I've had a very fun time giving her traits associated with Andrew, but flipping or inverting them, in tandem with her own character changes. Julia of course hasn't changed as much as Ash has, but that's a given, since Ashley and Andrew really were defined by eachother, while Julia was only partially defined by the two's abuse (aside from Nina's death, but that still happened, and no Ashley hasn't told her it was her yet.)
Anyway, long story short. The story is of course going to continue, I left it on a bit of a cliffhanger, it just won't be out within the day. Probably will within the week. Stay tuned.
Chapter Text
You Are Jane!
You're outside the apartment before the sun comes up. Again. One of the perks of being between jobs, you suppose. Every time you come here, you find another piece of the puzzle. Another set of photographs, another tape of video. After they cut the phone lines, this has been your life. Sitting in your van. Waiting for nothing to happen, as covertly as possible.
Stakeouts never were your specialty... Though today it's paying off. One person had gone in, but you haven't seen anyone come out. Ordinarily there's nothing strange about that, however no matter what angle you take, you fail to see more than a single person moving through the halls. Normally there's three, not including the one in the lobby. Sometimes, there's two. You've never seen just one, and it's the same one who had gone in. He looks spooked.
You suppose people could be on the top floor. Contrary to your best efforts, you haven't been able to see anyone up there. You had caught glimpses of your sisters, when they'd gone out to the balcony, but that was when things were less suspicious. You haven't seen them, recently. Probably locked in the apartment. If they haven't been bringing Ash tobacco, it explains why you haven't seen her, but the thought only makes you more worried.
You see nobody manning the front on the ground floor. Nobody on the first, and only the one man on the second. Something odd has happened in the last three days, probably the last day. You curse yourself for taking the snoop job, but you needed the money and rich people always pay whatever number you give them to snap a picture or two of their spouse holding someone's hand.
You don't want to make assumptions, but you're almost positive Ashley was behind at least some of it. The little firecracker would probably kill a dozen people on a whim, if she wasn't able to smoke for a month. You take one more desperate look up into your sisters' apartment. The lights are off. They usually are. Your family would have gotten a call if the parasite got them, right? Once there's a dead body, there's a paper trail a mile long, and even a big company has a hard time burying that.
...Shit, that...
You have to check in on them. You have to see them, today. You watch the building until the only guard has left your view, before moving your van closer, parking it on the opposite side of the street to arouse less suspicion. One more look. You wear gloves to hide your prints, your sunglasses to help hide your identity, and your mask, just in case the parasite is airborne, or something. The guards aren't wearing them... Or gloves, or any other medical equipment. So it's probably overkill on it's own. Your hood is drawn up, and you grab your taser and your handgun, putting them in opposite pockets, just in case things get messy.
And with that, you walk upto the building, taking an off-angle so if there were extra guards you might be able to play it off.
But guards, there are none. The front door is unlocked (you didn't see the guard lock it behind him earlier, but you're still pleased to know you were right). You never got a good look at the doors before now, but all five that you see are marked with some mix of A's and B's, sometimes together. All of which are marked off. Your mind goes through the possibilities. Blood type is most obvious, but it could be different treatment plans. Seeing no O's, you're leaning towards the latter... But there's nothing scientific about the messy scrawl. The only doctors you've seen coming in and out were in ambulances, sirens blaring. It's possible you simply missed the others, of course, but...
You shelve other ideas as you check behind the desk, though you pause as the building rumbles (an earthquake?). You don't let it slow you down much. Adorned with a pillow, blanket, coffee maker, and far more crosswords than you would expect, half of which have been scribbled out in utter frustration, despite each one having a dozen words... You don't find any documents, but you do find a key marked '301.' You pocket it, for the moment, knowing that might be an apartment repurposed into some sort of storage or security room. It's close to your destination, anyway.
Your right hand falls into it's pocket, hand wrapping around the grip of your pistol. You tilt the weapon back in it's pocket, aimed loosely. You might be being paranoid, but the atmosphere of the building itself lets you know you aren't safe. Up the stairs, quietly. The building maintains it's strange silence, akin to walking through a mausoleum. You glance over the first floor through the reinforced glass on the door. No wardens still, but a handful of stand out 'O's' confirm, or at least suggest, the tracking of blood types.
...And if the number of crossed out, unbarricaded doors is indicative of anything, they too confirm... or at least 'suggest' that you may very well be walking through the tomb of... dozens.
You've seen your fair share of bodies. Heard your fair share of stories about them. But... The sheer volume of death in this place is enough even to send a chill through your bones.
Eternal rest, grant unto them, O Lor-
Your quiet prayer is interrupted by a bang. Maybe a gunshot, perhaps a very aggressive door slam. You know you should lay low, but knowing it came from above you... Maybe, where your sisters are. You start running up the stairs. A second, louder bang gets the gun out of your pocket, held now in both hands as you pass by the second floor without a glance, running for the third without hesitation.
You Are Juls!
And this brings to eleven the number of houses that have experienced completely fatal catastrophic fire accidents this month. Each of the families refused to give comment when we reached out, but when we asked around at their funerals, loved ones overwhelmingly told us to 'Go fuck ourselves' and 'Leave us to mourn.' More at nine.
The news cuts out, leaving you with an extended infomercial for a special rice cooker with a buy one, get one free offer. You're not sure if you need two rice cookers, but Ash seems to have a stronger reaction.
Can you believe it, Juls? I've always needed two rice cookers!
You look at her, curious, though giggling at her words regardless, though the broadcast stuck with you. Rather... her lack of reaction to the broadcast.
Hey, Ash... D-Do you really... Not care that the news is talking about you?
She looks at you curiously, taking her eyes away from the cigarette she's rolling for only a few moments.
I mean, why would I?
I-It's just that... If I k-killed... So many people, I would get uncomfortable? If people brought it up, around me... You know?
Your sister casually shrugs, eyes casting back to the cigarette. Licking the small adhesive on the paper, dropping it into the little box Jane had made her, before moving to the next. Her dismissal fills you with a cold discomfort, but part of you is happy she's actually using a gift for once.
That's why you're not the one doing it.
W-Well, yeah but...
A sound escapes your throat, anxious and nervous. She looks up at you again, quietly finishing the cigarette before shifting to be next to you, wrapping her arm across your shoulders. You fix your sleeve to stop it from riding up.
Don't worry, Juls. Nobody else is going to bother you about your coming out. And if they do, I'll make sure they stop, okay?
That was... So close to being comforting. Honestly... It still is, in a twisted way. You instinctually fiddle with your cross, icy shame washing over you, despite the warmth of her arm around you. The warmth that fills your cheeks, with her so close.
Oh! Before I forget...
She runs across your room, rifling under her bed for a moment before finding a little wooden box. It has a heart burned into it, with your name emblazoned across it. You look confused for a second, before taking it from her hands. She rests her legs across your thigh, going back to rolling cigarettes as you open it, revealing a small metal charm in the shape of a heart, with five coloured diagonal stripes. Red, orange, white, pink, purple. A small loop lies in the top, to be threaded through a necklace.
You can't help but stare down at the charm, silently. You reverently pluck it out of the box, holding it in your hand to get a closer look.
Tadaaa~!
You look at her. Your head and chest buzz, your head turning fuzzy in the process, heat wrapping around your body. Her smile falters, and you throw your arms around her. You feel hers slowly wrap around your waist, in turn. You're only made aware that you started crying by the time you realize you've gotten her shoulder wet, though she seems to have little reaction, slowly patting your back and holding you tightly.
When you shift back, she gently swipes the charm from your hand, the other reaching for your necklace. Part of you wants to stop her, but as she unlatches it, and you see the heart settle in place beside your cross, your mind is enveloped by the warm feeling of... Right-ness. As though something had been completed, or moved closer to completion.
Your eyes meet, and your heart beats faster, the urge to move closer palpable. You look away. You don't remember what words you said, to thank her, but you're glad you did it when you did. It hurt, for the instant you saw her disappointment.
But it's better than the look she would have given you, if you kissed her like you wanted.
You Are Ashley!
The stairwell door is flung open, you have less than a second to dive across the hall, into the barely-open door. You definitely weren't that quiet, but you hear the footsteps now, slow. Deliberate.
Hello? Is anybody here?
You eye him out of the crack in the door, stressed. Scared, even. The first door is open, he doesn't pay it any mind. But your door... Closed, no barricade, no crossed out letters. You know he's going to look at it. You don't have any tools, but if he goes in he might...
You take a breath. The gun on his hip isn't fastened perfectly, probably so he can draw it quickly. You hatch your plan. It's stupid, risky, and careless, but you don't have many options in this situation.
Helloooo? I heard you banging around. I'm not gonna hurt you... Heh.
He gets to your door. At first he doesn't notice anything wrong, but his eyes linger on the letters. You hear him mutter something about 'fucking pigs' as he rifles through his keyring, producing one that matches your own. The door is unlocked, you'll have just a second where he thinks something is wrong before he realizes that. You have a chance.
He puts the key in the lock, and you use the rattling sound to ease the door you're behind open enough for you to cross through. The key finds the end of it's travel, he jiggles it, before turning it back.
You don't let him, you grab the gun in it's holster and try to pull it out as quickly as you can, but he notices. He turns, backhanding you, causing you to fling the gun, hitting the wall but thankfully not discharging. You can feel the bruise developing on your cheek already, but neither of you wait to process what's happened before taking your shot.
Your hand was already on his belt, so you pull, down and away, getting the leather around his thighs. He calls out for help as he tries pushing you away, but you bite his wrist, and he punches you with the other hand. You taste blood in your mouth, you don't know if it's just his or if it's a mix.
He takes the moment to pull up his belt, and you pounce again, tackling him against the wall beside your door, though he's larger than you, and you're out of practice (and weaker, from the starvation). He hits the wall, but he throws you to the side, your nails scraping chunks from his skin as he dives for his gun. You catch him by the ankle, grabbing and pulling him back before he can get it, and you're met by a boot in your face.
You pounce onto his back, but his hand reaches the gun. He doesn't have a good angle, but he points it behind him, and fires, missing you by a mile, and you're able to smack the gun once more out of his hand.
It seems he commits to simply not using it, however, because he rolls, your grip on him slips, and he ends up on top of you. He brings his hand down, punching you across the face, hard. You prepare for another, but a second shot rings out. You feel the splatter of blood gracing your upper body, your lips, your hair, as the body tumbles off you. You look to where the shot came from- Your room, and you see her only in time to pull your legs from under the body before Julia takes it's place, grabbing your shoulders.
You cough, trying to get a word out, but before a single sound can escape, her lips are on yours. You can feel the worry, the relief, the fear, every emotion pressed against your lips. You wrap your arms around her, pour every ounce of emotion you can into that kiss. Try to let her know you're okay. You wince, as her hand graces your cheek, shaking. You separate, almost flinging away from eachother as the stairwell door slams open, a gun immediately pointed in your direction.
What the fuck-!?
Then the gun be lowered to the ground. You can feel Julia's hands clench, a sharp sob rolling out of her throat. You can feel the waves of conflicting emotions coming from her, and you hold her as tightly as you can, as you slowly pull the both of you to your feet.
Jane takes a step closer. You can't see her face, but her bewilderment is obvious, as though she's questioning every single thing in her life upto this point.
You clear your throat, forcing air to come out, despite the discomfort. It seems to break your sisters out of their stunned silence, and your girlfriend(?) starts to cry, openly bawling in your arms. Jane steps closer, wrapping both of you into a tight, painful hug. Your arms don't leave Julia.
I don't really care what I just... Walked in on. I'm... Just so fucking happy both of you are still alive.
A snap of laughter barks out of you, not quite mirthless, and Julia's arms likewise wrap around both you and Jane. You acquiesce, joining the hugging circle in full, but pressing your side against Julia's as you do.
...Not to break up the reunion but... Maybe we should step inside.
Jane nods, and the two of you all but drag Julia into your apartment, pausing only for you to grab the guns, both of which having been left on the floor. You leave both on the kitchen counter, before you all sit on the loveseat. Your younger sister elects to sit on your lap, slowly tending your cuts with the medical kit you keep on-hand, rather than the cramped positioning. Jane watches her, a curious expression etched onto her face.
I'm... Not going to lie. I have a lot of questions.
Most of them have simple answers, Janey. Just ask.
Well, the easy part is asking the questions, obviously. The hard part is where to start, and it's obvious Jane has no fucking idea. As the silence drags on for two, three, ten, twenty seconds, you whisper into Julia's ear. You would rather not talk about the fact that she killed someone, and really you'd like her to think about it as little as possible. So you ask something that will hopefully get her attention.
Oh, beloved... Do you want to tell her about us, or should I?
It had less of an effect than you were hoping for, at least you think. But as she looks between you, and your other sister, and back to you, it's almost like a switch gets flipped. She doesn't smile, but you've gotten her out of her head for the moment.
You should say. She'll think it's a joke coming from me.
Jane, who has removed the sunglasses, clipping them to her shirt, raises an eyebrow, but Julia indeed speaks up. You rub lazy circles into her back, as she talks.
W-We're... We've... Decided. That we'll be... T-Together, from now on.
You said that when you got the apartment, yeah. What happens when you get a girlfriend, Juls? Is Ashley just gonna move in with you?
You can't help but snicker, interrupted by a hiss when an alcohol wipe touches the area you were punched.
W-Well, you see, Th-that's...
...You haven't actually thought it through, have you? Are you just giving up on dating?
N-No! Well, y-yes, kind of. I'm not...
You get tired of the back and forth, and seeing your sister is having a hard time explaining, you use the nuclear option, pressing your lips to hers. Her eyes flutter shut, before moving away in near-panick, almost falling off your lap. You can't help but laugh, seeing how red her face is.
H-Hey! You c-can't just do that...
She trails off as both of you look to Jane. Stunned silent, staring, mouth agape. It takes her nearly a full minute, before she blinks a few times. Her face corrals into a neutral appearance, before smiling. It seems almost unhinged, like she's watching a dark comedy on the telly.
...I have my concerns. But... If either of you hurt my little sister, I'm turning you into a pretzel.
You hear Julia start to laugh in your lap, quickly transitioning into a mix of sobbing, hiccupping sounds, raw emotion expressed in sound, and she pounces Jane, giving her a hug. You and Jane meet eyes for only a moment, laughing too, as you wrap around your other sister.
There will be more to talk about, later. For now... You have more important things to do.
Notes:
OKAY HEAR ME OUT I SAID THE LAST ONE WOULD BE THE LAST FOR LIKE A WEEK
AND I LIED
BUT I MEAN IT THIS TIME, IT'S STILL NOT THE END OR ANYTHING I JUST GOT INSPIRED AGAIN
Chapter 6: Recovery
Notes:
My partner got confused so I'm adding this, for people who didn't know.
An Athame is a knife used in rituals in a lot of Pagan traditions, as well as some Satanist traditions. They're usually blessed/sanctified/etc., usually have a black handle and a pentagram, and usually aren't used outside of their ritual existence, with some exceptions based on tradition and intent.
Chapter Text
You Are Julia!
Your head is swimming in chaotic, tumbling emotions. You almost threw up, the few times you've tried to process so far, so you're instead letting your body autopilot on your emotions. Crying now, you suppose, but you're laughing too. You feel your sisters wrapped around you, holding you close, almost too warm for comfort. Your heart is beating out of your chest, the sound so pounding you can't hear any of their words, though you know they're saying something.
The only thought that keeps repeating in your head, the one you can understand, is simply the moment you pulled the trigger. The way things seemed to stand still afterwards. The way Ash held you, the kiss... The taste of smoke and iron on her lips. On yours too, now. It won't leave your head.
Eventually their talking slows down. You feel lips press against the back of your neck (accompanied by a soft sting), before Ashley's arms disengage from your form. Your head shifts just in time for her to step into the bathroom, and you hear the shower running soon after, leaving you with Jane.
For a time, she's content to just hold you close. You're happy she missed you, perhaps as much as you missed her. You take a deep breath, pulling gently away from her. Your head is no less chaotic, but it is clearer, settled without resolution. She seems almost as lost in thought as you were, but as you look up towards her face, she seems to break from the moment.
Hey, Juls. How much of that did you catch?
N-Not much, sorry...
She pats you on the shoulder, and you rest your head on the back of her hand.
Don't worry about it. It's... Mostly things you don't like talking about, anyway.
What a way to get you to start thinking about things again. She reacts pretty quickly, though she fails to understand what part you're thinking about. Rather, how you're thinking about it.
What I meant to say wa-
Jane, I can... I-I'm not a child. I can talk about... What I did. What Ashley's done...
...And we'll have time to talk about that later, if you would rather talk about what the two of you have done together...
You blink at her a few times, hand instinctually drifting to your necklace, fingers wrapping around the heart.
...If you want me to... Talk about our relationship, I can. But don't... Try to distract me with it, okay?
Your older sister sighs, sitting back against the armrest of the sofa. Her legs adjust, crossing one over the other.
It seems like a more pleasant conversation than talking about how my baby sisters killed people.
Your eyes close, taking a deep breath.
You would rather talk about those same sisters... Being... T-Together?
Of course I do? Sure it's a bit weird, but it's not like you two were ever subtle about your feelings. For anyone, but that especially means each other.
She shrugs, and you get to have one more set of emotions and anxieties added to your brain.
Don't think mom or dad ever put two and two together, but... I've had time to adjust to the idea, in theory. You're both adults. If everything's on the up and up, I'm not sure what right I have to say anything.
She barks out a laugh, no longer looking towards you, but an arbitrary point on the wall.
Honestly, I'd be a lot more shocked if you two said you hadn't been boning since you were teenagers...
A-Ah... Haha... We haven't! We only had our first k-kiss yesterday...
Despite everything, that fact doesn't fail to bring a smile to your face. You have so many... Unresolved feelings about it, but in this case... Anxieties aside, they're all positive. That's pretty unique, for you. Your hand drops from your necklace to the opposite forearm, nervously wringing the two together.
...And did... Other things.
Your older sister mock-gasps, a loudly fake sound that almost makes you laugh on it's own.
On the first date? Good lord, Juls. And I suppose you held hands, too, you hussies.
And that got you to laugh, quickly joined by your companion. The word has had a unique comedy to it ever since Ashley discovered your preferences. It takes you several seconds to recover, and your head... It doesn't feel clearer, but it feels less mean. Your tongue comes out to wet your lips, and the taste of iron returns, casting a haze across your mind.
...Hey, Juls? You okay? Did something just happen?
You blink a few times, glancing back at her before looking away. Your head feels fuzzy. You want to see Ashley.
...N-No. W-Well, sorta. I just... Need to...
You can't find the words as your body starts moving, rising from the couch.
...Okay, be... Careful. Uh, wait, Ash is-
You don't pay her any mind as you slip into the bathroom, steam from the shower casting a thick, warm haze through the room, that nonetheless feels cold against your face. You see Ashley stick her head out from behind the curtain, red flecks still visible in her hair, expression curious and you think, maybe, a little scared, before she sees you. Confusion and other emotions dance across her features, before landing on a not-quite teasing smile.
Who's...? Oh... Hello~, Beloved. Planning on joining me?
You nod, silently. You're only half aware of the fact that you remove your clothes before you walk over, pulling aside the curtain and, without warning, hugging your sister, burying your face in her shoulder. Clearly she was expecting something else, because it's several seconds before her arms wrap around you, too.
There, there, Juls... I've got you. You're never going to need to do that again, okay?
Ah, she thinks you're thinking about that. Well... It might be part of it. Maybe? Probably. Hearing her voice helps. Feeling her arms around you lets you start... Sorting.
Not processing, just... identifying pieces. Your chest feels like it's on fire. Fear, maybe. Shock. You aren't panicking, or if you are it's a very quiet kind of panic.
...Your mind still reels, remembering. Pulling the trigger, the sound and the shock and the kick it had, your wrist had hurt afterward, but you didn't realize in the moment. The spray of scarlet across the wall. And Ashley. Her lips... Her face and hair, painted red.
...The heat in your chest gets worse, thinking of it. Your heart is throbbing. Hammering so hard you can feel it in your nose.
You're almost caught off guard at how... Not-obviously-terrible it feels. Everyone except Ashley always talked about a cold dread or regret, but you don't have any, right now. You haven't since you pulled the trigger. Of everything that is there, none of them are quite so rough...
You're shaken out of your head. Soft, warm lips press against your forehead. Your head tilts back, she looks... Scared. Worried, really. You press your lips to hers, hoping... You aren't sure, what you're hoping for. Maybe she could feel what you were and make sense of it? Maybe she'll think things are okay. Maybe she'll know things will be okay.
Her hand cups your cheek, and you lean against it. Her head turns the other way, letting your lips lock together, though she doesn't escalate things. It's a good thing she doesn't, because your head wouldn't be able to handle... All of it, at once. Your hand finds your wrist, wringing over the rough skin behind her back.
Eventually you pull away slightly, tucking your head into the crook of her neck. The warm water, the warm Ashley, the warm... everything... You can almost feel it melting all the chaos in your head. Letting it settle, stop storming and flashing and swirling, letting your heart calm down in her embrace, your hand grabbing back onto her. Your tongue pokes out of your mouth, expecting to find the taste of Ash's strawberry lip gloss on your own. You do get some, but it's joined by smoke and iron.
The chaotic mess settles, not fully. You want to cry, the cold needle-fingered spectre of grim recognition flickering through your mind. Your heart is screaming in your chest. Thunder in your ears, haze in your vision, pins and needles sprouting across your body.
You pull your head back. Ashley is watching you, you can see worry in her eyes. You feel a slim pang of guilt, for making her like this, when you're...
You.
Lips press together, you aren't sure who leaned in first, but they don't remain somber and emotional. This time, your tongue presses past her lips. The intoxicating blend fills your head once more, and you press her against the wall.
You Are Jane!
...You get the mild sense that your sisters are busy, right now. Considering they're in the shower together, you know you have time to look around. The couch hasn't been washed recently, which only adds evidence to the idea that they've been exhausted or busy.
Combined with the pile of dirty dishes and trash bags, your only conclusions would be that their depression got worse during quarantine (something you expected, and frankly their apartment isn't the worst you've seen it for the very same reason), or, the much more likely scenario, they haven't been getting food or supplies. The trash itself also accounts for that. Four months of quarantine would produce a lot more, and some of it looked almost so old.
Not that you missed how much weight they'd both lost, but that could be a result of the prior, too. You have a feeling you're right, given the ghost building they now live in, but evidence was always a fondness of yours. As has been snooping on your sisters... Though in Ashley's case, any snooping actually turned up evidence of her extensive crimes. She would've been caught years ago, if you weren't busy destroying and staging things, and Julia didn't provide an alibi.
But today you're not looking for Ashley's crimes. You check their cabinets, fridge, freezer, for any of the typical suspects. Cans of something that looked a year old, sauces with the same origin, something freezer burnt. Anything that the two would simply forget to get rid of and never eat. You find, unfortunately, nothing. Everything in their kitchen looks new and fresh, but you also know they haven't been able to get groceries, and they complained vocally about the guards bringing them the wrong supplies, before the line was cut.
So, in all likelihood, these are obtained through other means... Somehow. Too new and specific to have been stolen from other apartments. They didn't have contact with the outside.
You take a deep breath. This part didn't add up in your head.
A sound from the shower catches your ear, breaking your thoughts. Not very quiet, as it turns out. You almost snicker, turning your attention to other matters. Namely, a folder tossed onto the kitchen counter, beneath one of the guns.
...They have two guns. You know for a fact that before they got locked in, they had none, and checking the revolvers themselves, both of the serial numbers have been filed off. The warden they killed in the hall may have had one, though the presence of the second almost guarantees that they had killed one more, or at least robbed him blind...
But how, was the question. They were locked in, you can still see barricades on some of the doors. They couldn't get out to rob or kill without something happening. There's a lack of blood on the floor and door, so they didn't lure one in and kill him... At least not violently. Strangulation, maybe, but Ash didn't exactly have the same physique she used to. The idea of her successfully choking one to death without reprisal... Seemed unlikely. And beyond that, if they had the gun, she would've been shot.
Speaking of which, each gun is only missing one bullet. You heard two shots coming in, so you found the weapons, but it makes it even more peculiar. And, assuming it would all work out perfectly, which it could have... How did they move the body? They would've needed to drag it out into the hall, but they would've been caught by the others on staff.
...Maybe they dragged the body(ies?) all the way into the basement, or tossed them into one of the other rooms. Not something you're going to poke around with, for now, but it's shaping up in your head. Still, it seems unlikely.
You turn your attention to the folder. Organ prices and stocks for ToxiSoda on the very same graph. They aren't being anything close to subtle, here. Also explains the blood type markers on the doors, and why no doctors come in and out until someone dies.
...More and more pieces are clicking together, but your baby sisters (more accurately, Ashley) killing no less than two armed men, magically conjuring groceries (and, you note, a lot of them), and hiding the bodies seems... Desperately unlikely, not to mention completely impossible, unless that weird culty stuff of hers actually worked.
...One step at a time, Jane. The first guard. No signs of a struggle, and this must have been within the last three days. If they cleaned it...
Actually, you do see a faint impression on the ground, where the wood is slightly more reflective. Like something was wiped across it. Or, given the shape, dragged. It starts mere feet from the door, the idea of an entire scuffle taking place seems bizarre. Maybe they managed to inject them with... Something, somehow. You'll give them that, assume it works. Drag the body out into the hall, but there's a second trail, moving from their prayer room. They could've done it twice, whatever they did. Well, they really had to have.
So okay, that accounts for three killings. Two more should've been in the building, but they would have ran at the sound of gunfire, or met with the one who came in today. So, the ability to kill four people without a trace, but not the new guard? Neither of them showed any marks that can't be explained by... Other things. As though operatically, another sound emerges from their shower. Hard to say who's. Aside from the marks on Ashley's face, that is, and both of those were from this most recent warden. That's what she had said, anyway.
So they ambushed four, somehow, and weren't expecting the fifth. Okay. So where do the groceries come from? Assuming most of the bodies were tucked into random apartments, that's really the only lingering question. With the phone lines cut, they couldn't call for help. And if they left to get them, they probably wouldn't have come back.
You pinch the bridge of your nose. It's just not possible. You must be missing a detail, missing some clue, something.
You check the prayer room. Locked. You glance into their bedroom, and find yet again nothing out of the ordinary... Though, you don't look much. Just in case. Ashley's artwork, Julia's sheet music, a little cactus. Normal bedroom things.
Your gun is in-hand as you step out of the apartment. The key you found opens a door across the hall, so you may as well look while they're busy.
It's a converted room, obviously. Simple amenities, cheap noodles, not much in the fridge. The disheveled bed says someone has slept here, but your attention is on the computer. It's on, the cameras are running, though no indication that they're recording. You doubt that was the guards' intention, and given the strewn-about folders, matching the one you found in your sisters' apartment, you're almost certain Ash had handled this.
You're proud of her, honestly. She was never exactly consistent with using what you taught her.
You take the time to skim and pocket more of the documents in the small office (not much subtlety to be found, in what they were doing. Organ prices, soda prices, people drinking ToxiSoda, it's all there), and at the back of a drawer filled with paperwork that Ash very obviously didn't check, a small box of NoHand’s .45's, a pack of Breathless Cigarettes, and a can of BubblyPoppy Black Lime. No brand loyalty, you suppose.
The box only has 20 rounds left in it. 30 missing means five of those revolvers and nobody has needed to shoot yet. Could also be purely coincidental and bullets were removed for other reasons.
Either way, a gift for your sisters. 3 cigarettes left in the pack, you leave behind.
Content you've found basically everything you might find here, you lock things up, and return to the apartment.
You Are Ashley!
You need to process, by the time Julia pushes her tongue past your lips, only cursorily responding in kind. She was near-catatonic and crying, then followed you into the shower, kissed you (which is something you just do now, you suppose), hugged you in silence for a few minutes, and now she's... Doing this. Pressing you against the wall, hands roaming across your body while the water pours down across you both.
Her mood has been up and down since she shot the bastard. Which you expected, but you very much didn't expect... This. Who gets turned on after killing someone? Not just turned on, but... Pushy? Dominant? Hotter? ...Well, if that's the case, should you let her kill more people? You've spent half a decade making sure she doesn't have to get her hands dirty, and now you find out she's into it.
You'll need to talk to Jane about this. And Juls, obviously, but when she's less... Aggressive. Part of you is happy that-
She pulls away, drawing your attention. She looks worried, like she stepped over a line. Stop fucking things up for her.
H-Hey... Do you not... Want this?
No, we... can continue.
That isn't what I a-asked.
Damnit, she's challenging you on it.
...Why do you want to... Do this?
She seems a little confused, backing away a moment before your arms wrap around her again, preventing her retreat.
...Is it... Not o-okay to just want to?
Normally there's a reason, is all. I'm okay if this is just... A distraction, or anything, really. I just want to know, Juls.
She looks down, seemingly lost in thought for a moment.
...I'm... T-Turned on, and my head is swimming, and it's weird, and...
You want your head to latch onto something and feel good, and not... Yeah. I get it.
W-Well... I also want... You to f-feel good.
Her voice trails off toward the end. She seems nervous again, and between the infectious energy and the words she spoke, so are you. She picks up on your silence, much to your dismay.
Is... Is that wrong?
O-Of course it isn’t. It just doesn’t… Work, for me.
She looks curiously at you, worried and confused. You sigh, closing your eyes as you explain.
Things just don’t feel good, with me. I’ve tried, a-and it just doesn’t work. Never feels like something is happening, it’s just weird and… Usually uncomfortable…
You realize you’ve said something wrong because she gets that look. The one you never want to see, the grimly upset frown, her eyes casting down, entire body withering away from you.
Then w-why did you… we…
I wanted you to feel good, sis. And it’s not… like it was bad. It was fun and cathartic getting you to squirm and… Well, you were there.
…And… All of the k-kisses?
You sigh quietly to yourself. You’re about to let her down again, like you always do, before a memory catches you.
...There was the one that was… Actually good. I mean they’re all nice, don’t get me wrong, missy. But I was definitely feeling something, when we were on the couch.
Her full attention is on you, though you can see in her face that she doesn’t fully believe you. Probably thinks you’re lying to make her feel better, even though you aren’t.
To prove that to her, you shift your hand to her shoulder, pushing her down to the ground, quickly following and depositing yourself in her lap.
We were like this… Remember? You said I was perfect, and you kissed me… And we were just like this.
Your arms wrap around her shoulders in demonstration. Her hands gravitate to your hips, eyes wide. You think she believes you, now. At least moreso.
And this one… Had me feeling pretty… Intense, I guess. Not the same as… Everything else we did, last night.
So i-if we… Try from here, you might…?
…Don’t get your hopes too high, sis. But if this is what you want to do… I-
She cuts you off with a kiss. Caring, sweet, tender, with only traces of passion. It feels like a thankful gesture, more than anything else.
And true to your expectations… It feels nice. Warm, loving intimacy is quickly becoming one of your favorite activities, and even if there’s nothing titillating about it, it pulls a gentle rolling hum of enjoyment from your throat.
It seems she’s content with the feeling too, for a time. The warmth becomes hungrier, her lips press to yours with vigor, and heat, and you happily welcome her tongue into your mouth, when she decides it’s time. She hugs possessively to your hips, thumbs pressing in, claiming you as hers without a word. Your head feels fuzzier, with her passion, but nothing changes the feeling itself.
It’s almost anxiety-inducing. Will she be disappointed when she realizes that this is just how you are? Worse, will she blame herself? Should you just fake something and try to deflect?
You hate that your own brain stops you from enjoying the moment. Enjoying the way her tongue slides against yours, the softness of her skin, the way her hands move across your back, nails gently scraping across your skin.
…Well that feels different. Better, in some ways, the slight amount of pain a strangely enjoyable feeling. As her nails reach your upper back, near your neck, she presses them in slightly more aggressively, and it draws a surprised mewl from your throat.
You feel her lips curl against yours, smiling. Perhaps in simple confirmation that it did something for you at all. Though she’s smart not to overemphasize the feeling, letting her hands wander away to find more gaps in your proverbial armour. One finds your hair, carding through it, fingers tangling into your dark tresses, tugging gently. The other finds your rear, first caressing, then gently squeezing down on it.
And it feels good. Both of them, really, in very different ways. Different too, to the way her nails felt, or the way her mouth feels. Your body rewards her with a soft moan, without your approval, the betrayal casting a red, embarrassed heat to your cheeks.
She pauses for a near-imperceptible moment, before tugging harshly on your hair. It definitely does something, but you wouldn’t describe it as good per se.
Despite having expected it, you’re still disappointed when her hands decide to wander again, now coming around to your front. Squeezing at your chest, gently pinning a nipple between two fingers, and you get absolutely nothing from it. This is despite her groping and massaging and kneading, to no avail at all, before one hand trails down across your abdomen.
You stop her hand, before she reaches there, and much to your relief her hand simply slides around to your back again, the other following swiftly. It seems she’s done exploring, with one trailing down to your butt, the other gently scratching it’s way back to your hair.
Your body arches into hers, from the combining sensations as she begins to knead your rear, short, soft nails claiming the flesh, as she gently scratches your tresses, only gently tugging your hair as a side effect.
That new feeling remains in full swing, sending a cascading warmth through your body, up your spine, creating an intoxicating blur in your mind, a strange tension in your lower half, somewhere you can’t exactly place. Her teeth graze your lower lip, and you whimper as her hand leaves your hair, landing on your rear to join its twin.
Sounds like I found a something good for you, s-sis.
You quickly discover that talking is hard, and you let out a shuddering breath, nodding in its place. She chooses that moment to be a little rougher, squeezing, groping, kneading, spreading your ass with her hands, while her teeth latch onto your throat, just on a pulse point, and together they send you spiraling.
Her tongue laps across your skin as she begins to suckle, teeth scraping the flesh, and the pressure is fantastic, painful, perfect. It becomes hard to breathe, and your hands cling onto your sister’s shoulders as a lifeline, an anchor as your body feels like it’s rising, floating, slipping away. The tension in you is near painful, sending twitches through your muscles, your mind turning hazier by the moment.
Your eyes screw shut, a cold chill passing over your newly acquired hickey as her lips find a new target, where your shoulder and neck meet. A sharp, perfect sting shoots through you as one of her hand suddenly smacks against your butt, a harsh moan forced from your lips, as her other hand explores, wandering into the valley of your backside. Fingers find the sensitive ring of muscle, gently rubbing against it.
Your vision is getting spotty, whether it’s from the difficulty breathing or everything everywhere feeling like cold fire, you can’t say.
Her teeth pull at your flesh, drawing it away from your body with a desperate hunger. Another sharp smack against your rear. Your eyes open, finding her yellows looking back, loving, lusting, yearning, perfect, and suddenly you’re falling.
Your body becomes bowstring tight, pressed against hers desperately as your senses are completely overwhelmed, mind lacking the ability to control or process, your body moving, digging your nails into her shoulders, pressing back against her hands, the feeling of it moving without your command forcing a deep, warm sense of vulnerability and weakness that only becomes hotter as her hand smashes down again, now on the opposite side. Her mouth pops away from your skin.
You desperately push your lips to hers, knocking her back against the wall in the process, teeth clacking against eachother, and as your tongues meet again you completely unravel, only distantly, abstractly aware of the sounds you make, the actions you take, fully subsumed under her love and warmth as she refuses to cease her movements.
Your breathing is heavy, eyes comfortably closed as your girlfriend holds you, close, nuzzled into the crook of her neck. Tight. Your body feels relaxed, both rested and exhausted at once, a strange, unfamiliar sensation.
You realize she’s humming, gently into your ear, though she sounds calmer herself. Almost happy. All that comes out between shuddering breaths is simply…
W-Wow, sis… I…
You don’t know what your sentence would have been, as your voice trails off. But you would have said something. She giggles her angelic, perfect giggle, that makes you curl into her even more.
I-I wasn’t… Expecting that, either.
Which part…?
Well, any of it… b-but I’m going to remember this, for tonight… If it felt good?
You can’t help but nod instinctually. Tonight seems early, for another round of all this. You’ll probably try to scheme and take care of her instead, or do other things.
She laughs, again. This time, the laugh of a gremlin who’s ambush just succeeded, though you can’t find it in yourself to be worried.
Though it seems her nerves start to find her again, because her next words are coldly cautious.
Th-That was all okay, right? Should I have…
You kiss her. Slow, loving, reassuring.
…It was wonderful. Sex just… isn’t something I fiend over as much as you? But it really was great, okay?
She doesn’t fully believe you, but she does nod. Only now do you decide to lie, to help sell things, pressing a slightly hungrier kiss to her lips, before untangling from her.
…I’m looking forward to what you’re planning tonight, beloved.
It isn’t a massive lie. You’re definitely curious, but she does believe you more now. Her smile seems a little warmer. Less worried. You rise, shutting off the cooling water as you do, before offering her a hand. Her eyes never leave yours, and when she gets to her feet she kisses you again.
I l-love you, Ash. Sor-
I love you too, Juls. Don’t apologize, you did... amazing.
You continue to share little kisses, as you pull clothes on. Only now realizing that Jane may have heard… Any or all of that, you start mentally preparing for a Julia panick.
When you come out, however, there is no Jane. Left in her stead is a note in plain, simple handwriting.
Enjoy your time, lovebirds. I’m following a lead, be back soon, don’t worry.
Though almost operatically, the door swings open, revealing Jane’s return, jacket stuffed with documents and a small box in hand.
Good timing, found these.
She shakes the box, something metallic rattling around on the inside. She places it on the table next to the guns, and you realize (mostly from the NoHand’s label) that it’s a box of ammunition.
Surprisingly, Julia doesn’t tense up at the mention of them. Maybe sex really does let her process better than you expected. She walks over to Jane, you in-tow as you speak, hugging her tightly.
Fuck yeah, where’d you find them?
She takes Julia into her arms, but her face stays focused on you.
Warden’s office. Speaking of… We need to leave, today. There’s five people in the building at this point, and they aren’t exactly above covering their tracks.
You wonder if she’s accounting for the fact that your neighbor died. You never got to look into that, unfortunately, but it’s not like you would have found something new.
I was already thinking about that. Honestly I was thinking about leaving yesterday but we got... distracted.
You can see Julia has some reaction to what you’ve just said. Jane, being closer, caught more of it and her face quickly contorts to ‘stopping herself from teasing.’
Then let’s start packing, girls. The limit is whatever we can stuff into my van, so… Not everything, but don’t be stingy.
The next few hours are spent hastily packing, rolling some extra cigarettes, eating two nice hearty home cooked meals (which Julia mostly prepares while you and Jane continue packing). You do have suitcases, which aid the process, but not enough to transport everything. Garbage bags, 'bags' made from sheet and blanket, and everything else now pile at your door (the actual garbage having been left on the balcony so nobody mixes it up).
Left behind is the furniture, little of which you'll miss, a lot of random cleaning supplies and other such that can be rebought without issue, and most of the kitchen supplies for the same reason. You have to carry your Athame in your pocket (well, you probably could have found a place for it, but you really wanted to keep it nearby), and Julia has taken it upon herself to carry several of her own religious items manually, alongside some of your ritual supplies for safety, but with some careful planning and packing, most everything is ready to be taken.
Jane stops the two of you before leaving, putting a simple hand out.
Juls, take one more look around to make sure we have everything, okay?
She scampers off without a question, and your older sister whispers in your direction.
Ash, hood up, mask on.
You follow the directions, pulling out a mask from the pocket of your jacket (a precaution Jane has forced you to adapt to using), zipping up, and putting on a detached hood you almost never bother with, hiding the straps beneath the jacket to make it look seamless enough.
Without another word, she opens the door, you can clearly see her hand wrapped around her gun, hidden in her pocket. You follow suit, keeping your revolver hidden (though unlike your sister, you're not going to shoot through your jacket if you can help it). It's a quick jaunt around the building, tucking the body into the security room and locking it in (sliding the key under the door after), smashing the base of each camera and cutting the cables with a knife, eventually working down to the lobby. You can't lock the door to the basement, so instead use one of the barricading planks, leaning it against the handle and the floor so it can't be opened. Not easily, at least.
There's only one more person alive, on the second floor, and once you're confident all the cameras are cut, you say something.
We should probably let the last person out.
Your sister looks at you, nodding silently, though slightly confused. She takes the whole 'don't get caught committing crimes' thing a lot more seriously than you do. Up the stairs again (you're really glad you keep in shape, otherwise the stairs would be exhausting... Suddenly you're worried about Juls being able to go up and down them. Jane is the one who pulls out the plank, but you knock, a voice on the inside muffled, but clearly alive. You open the door, thankfully unlocked, and see a blonde-haired woman on the bed, looking like nothing ever happened, like she hasn't been deprived of all worldly needs for months.
...The monstrous stack of noodle cups in the corner tells you enough of that. Her hands are on a grey controller, eyes glued to the screen.
Hey! I said don't come in, what's-!?
She glances in your direction. Maybe she can see a gun, or maybe this is the normal reaction when two masked, hooded strangers barge into your room. Jane is the one who speaks first, but you hear her deepening and engraveling her voice, as a disguise.
Quarantine's over, but the apartments are closing. You should pack and leave before you get kicked out.
She looks at you, as though you were going to chime something in. The lady, intelligently, decides to nod, and you do the same to Jane. It takes less than a minute before you close the door, and it's only twenty from the time you left before you return to your apartment. You see Julia sitting at the kitchen island, rolling another cigarette for you, pausing only to look up at the two of you. For some reason, that makes your heart throb, and you can't help but remove your mask, and kiss her. She giggles against you, smiling against your lips, though it's not to last, your older sister clearing her throat behind you.
You reluctantly separate, and you take only a moment to cherish the adorable blush that spread across her cheeks before pulling back.
S-So are we... good to go?
...Should be. Just us here, aside for your downstairs neighbor. Sun's setting, it's our best chance to get out without issues.
She nods, rising to her feet, offering you the cigarette she was rolling to lick (which you do), before she finishes and dropping it into your box, then passing it to you. You pocket the box, though immediately pull it out to smoke. Julia beats you to your lighter, holding it up near your face, smiling as you lean in to ignite the tobacco. You draw in a lungful of smoke, letting your eyes close, enjoying it for only a moment, before exhaling. You feel her hand against your back pocket, sending a jolt through your body until you realize she was just putting your lighter there.
You know if you two are like that in front of mom she'll have a heart attack.
That brings down the mood substantially.
I-It's not like we were planning on seeing her anyway...
Or dad, before you say that.
You hear Jane exhale, sharp, but not upset with you two.
Yeah, guess not. Point stands, though. Be careful in front of people who know us, alright? I don't wanna have to fold someone if I don't need to.
Though the warning is jokingly said, nobody laughs, the silence interrupted only by your blowing smoke. It's something you haven't bothered to consider yet (it's not like you care if people know or not), but Juls might... Need time to think about that stuff.
...For now let's just get everything down, alright? We'll deal with that when we actually see someone we know.
Neither of your sisters object, Julia simply squeezing your hand for several seconds before letting go. And with no more interruptions, you and Julia’s entire lives are hauled down to the ground floor. Jane takes her time (something about a license plate) driving around, and it takes half an hour to shove everything inside, most of it barely fitting.
You add a minute to that time to finish your second cigarette, quickly killing it before climbing into the passenger’s seat. Julia climbs onto your lap to save space, one arm wrapped around your shoulders, as the other stabilizes your eclectic religious materials (though your tape player, still loaded, remains in your jacket pocket). Your own hands wrap around her hips, and you smile up at her, intending it to be calm and reassuring. She kisses your forehead, and Jane chuckles as she closes the driver side door.
Yeah, I'm gonna need to get used to that pretty quickly, huh?
Y-You're just as obvious with your... Boyfriend...
You first become aware of Julia tensing, uncomfortable, but you just as quickly realize Jane did the same.
Ex-Boyfriend, actually. Motherfucker actually...
She growls.
It doesn't fucking matter. But he's in the dust, now.
...A-Are you sure you... Don't... Want to talk about it?
Her fingers drum on the wheel, an immediately angry sigh emitting from her lips. This must have been extremely recent, within a week, perhaps.
...Not while I'm sober. Let's just say I told him something, and his reaction was fucking shit, and we fought, and I never want to see him again.
...We stopping somewhere to get a bottle? I'll pay.
...Yeah, fuck it. Might as well.
An hour later you’re walking into a cheap motel on the edge of the city, Jane taking a connected room for safety, and gripping a bottle of whiskey with a gladiator on the front, which is apparently her favourite brand.
Chapter 7: Time
Chapter Text
You Are Leyley
It's like you're trapped in an icy cell. A tiny room, no window, wooden everything, hardly enough space for you to stand next to the bed, perpetual grimness and cold in the air. A frigid closet, at best, but you need to store the few things you have under your bed, now. One change of clothes, some colored pencils and paper (both of which you were supposed to leave in the common area), an old bible picture book (for 'entertainment'), and most secret of all, a little box of matches you hid with the pencils.
You don't know how long you've been here, either the hours, or the days. At least they feed you (unless you do something 'bad'). You can see your breath. Your hands are tingling numb, the thin blanket doing absolutely nothing, even though you're sleeping in clothes.
You crouch beside the bed, pulling out the bible, and the book of matches. You rip out the first page.
In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without form, and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. And God said, Let there be light. And there was light.
You strike a match, and hold it beneath the page, the word 'light' first burning away, and you move the match to then ignite the drawn sun, the blaze taking the crinkly page without hesitation, and you let it burn in your hand, holding the corner until the heat reaches you, until it was too much to bear. You drop it onto the box of pencils, the only buffer between the wooden floor’s fiery death, and you not freezing.
The second page burns as easily as the first, but the match has burned down to your fingers, and you drop it with the pages. A third page, fourth, fifth, tearing them out and dropping them into the little pyre. Your blanket is bundled upto your shoulders, covering your back and sides, but letting your front feel the heat of the flame. Keeping the heat in. All the while, your eyes are glued to the flickering, dancing blaze. The carefree way it twirls and leaps, spitting little cinders, sputtering and popping in displeasure when you need to add another page, letting it become bigger, and bigger.
But with it's size maintains it's fragility. The dance becomes more frantic, licking at your face in the cramped amenity, cold no longer an issue, but still your hands tear pages and add them to the burn. The final page you rip out, at least for the night, refuses to simply burn, and a section of the page is ejected, with blackened burned edges and cinders clinging onto each word. The passage is broken, and yet it feels complete when you glance at the words.
[How art thou fallen from Heaven]
[I will exalt my throne above the stars of God]
[I will ascend above the heights of the clouds]
You simply stare at the fragment, reading it a dozen times, watching the edges continue to smolder, stopping before it touches the words, but only barely. You slip it into your pocket, carefully, and push your gaze back to the fire. Shrinking already, but not popping or yelling for more paper.
You hope it will be enough then, crawling back into bed, trailing warm ashes that simply refuse to make you uncomfortable, and a lingering heat that just barely keeps until you fall asleep.
You Are Julia!
You feel warm and fuzzy in all the wrong ways. The parts that should be tingly and warm are instead burning and weird, and it’s warm and tumbly where nothing should be happening, and you only had one paper cup of the stuff. It tasted like death and the smell of acid dissolving paper. You can barely keep your head on track, never mind form cohesive thoughts, all those cohesive thoughts are drowning in your skull, you can hardly listen to your sisters talking.
Their voices are nice, though. And you still can it’s just… weird. And it’s slowly getting better, though you slump against Ashley’s shoulder until it does. She scratches your hair, kisses your forehead. It’s nice, you can hear a giggle escape your lips, as your eyes distantly focus on the door to the motel room, cans and wires set in some kind of trap Ashley made.
Your eyes flutter shut and you finally tune back into the conversation, quickly realizing that your sisters seem hardly effected by the ichor that’s hamstrung your thoughts, though you’re mildly aware that Ashley simply hasn’t drank more than a sip… You should have followed her lead. And that they’re arguing about something, though the air of levity around it makes you less worried.
-but I’m an Artist-
With paper and pencils, Ash! Not a gun-
Art is art, dickweed!
That doesn’t mean you’re Robin Hood with a revolver!
Thats not what I said you-!
C-Can you stop yelling please…?
After a moment of silence, Ash kisses the top of your head. It makes you smile.
Sorry, Beloved.
Yeah, sorry Juls.
The silence drags on for another few seconds. You ruined their fun, you-
The bottle swishes. Ashley steers the conversation, passing you a bottle of water as she does. You drink half of it immediately, and proceed to sip on it aside.
Weren’t you going to talk about you hideous ex, Janey my dear?
You can hear the groan, and your eyes open in time to see her take another swig before slamming the bottle. She rubs her eyes, you can tell she’s getting her mind into the right space.
Your own head is sloshing less and less, the longer you spend leaning against your girlfriend (that fact always forces a smile to your face).
Yeah I can talk about the fucker. Soooo… Fuck, I gotta start there.
She takes a deep breath.
…Hate that I’m not doing it all cool like you did, Juls. But… Ladies are great, right?
You nod, but you’re a bit too buzzed to immediately realize what she’s saying. She must sense your confusion, because she clarifies, and you smile, giving a little round of applause that Ashley joins after a few seconds.
…I’m into women... I think. A bit. Technically that makes me bi, I guess-?
Woo!
She barks a laugh at your enthusiasm, before the serious demeanor returns.
Yeah I figured you two would take it well. I'm still figuring it out, you know?
Point is, I told Terry that, and the first thing he asked me is if I would have a threesome with him and his fucking mom for some reason. No… Round of applause or congratulations-
The whiplash is intense, and you cringe so hard Ashley puts a hand on your shoulder to help you stabilize, fingers sliding beneath the strap of your tank top. Jane deserves so much better…
-just, immediately, let’s have a threesome. With his mom, who is straight and married, who he wants me to seduce. Which is fucking… Fuck that, is the point. Fuck him.
She's obviously keeping her voice restrained, but you can feel the heat behind them as she takes another swig.
And when I fucking said no? Said ‘god was watching’ and if I didn’t repent I was going to hell. Fucking…
She rubs her face, growling into her hands. You reach out to put a hand on her own that… You hope she’ll take as reassuring. Ashley does the same, but on her knee.
I’ll take care of it, okay Janey?
Your older sister pauses completely, taking a deep breath and, you think, coming to terms with the fact that she just consigned her ex to a fiery grave.
Though you might be wrong, because she laughs, afterwards.
I hate that you two are… Ugh…
You pull away your hand, a confused chill casting through it.
…What?
It sounded confused, though laced in accusation. Jane sighs, and you put a hand on Ashley’s thigh as a silent way to stop her from reacting too quickly.
…You two are great. The best support I’ve had, ever. You’re understanding, fun, cool, I... Really hate that my brain gets jealous...
You can feel Ashley react beside you, tensing, almost possessively putting an arm around you, but you have a completely different reaction. Your brain immediately ignites with a completely different line of questioning and... Thoughts, about your sister.
...Jealous how?
Oh, she sounds almost venomous. It's honestly really hot, and your brain starts burning with ideas you shouldn't be having. Jane probably doesn't mean it anything like that anyway so you should stop being such a god damn pervert. Fuck, blasphemy-
The protracted silence leads to Ash digging her fingers into your shoulder. Possessive doesn't even begin to describe the tension you can feel in her. You put a hand over hers, the other resting on her thigh. You feel her relax only a little.
...Jane?
Sorry... I wish... I could find people like you two. Might be weird to say.
She shrugs, immediately swallowing another mouthful from the bottle. Your girlfriend doesn't seem to know what to say, leaving the door open for you, even if your voice trails off at the end.
I... Don't think it's weird, Jane... But... You can probably find someone...
Yeah, sure. Let me just win the fucking relationship lottery.
You aren't sure if her tolerance is just that high, or if she's going to crash out into a drunken heap in the next five minutes, because with another swig she's downed almost half the bottle on her own. You make a mental note to keep her away from bottles in the future.
Can't wait to pray for that. God's probably gonna think I'm a freak. 'Hey buddy ol' pal of mine, you mind helping me meet someone who's as smart and funny and cool and hot as my little sisters are?' ...Doubt that's ever gonna fucking work.
D-Don't sell yourself short! You're also smart, a-and you're funny, and cool, and h-hot...
You're vaguely aware of Ashley's grip getting tighter. She's worried. You've made her scared. Stop hurting her for once, maybe?
A-Anyway you'll find someone soon! Now you're open for new connections, and you can meet someone or... Multiple someones, I doubt you'll be single by Christmas!
Sure I will, Juls. I'll also win the lottery and demystify the universe. I'll be back.
Stalking off to the bathroom, the sarcasm in her voice bit, hard. But it's even more painful when Ashley pulls you in, pinning your head beneath her chin. A position that would be comfortable, if not for the words she speaks immediately after.
...Do you have something you want to tell me, beloved?
You tense in her grasp, forcing yourself to relax after several seconds.
...Somewhat. But not... Really.
Her silence is all the response you're expecting, and it hurts down to your core. See how much your sinful perversions fuck everything up? Fix it. Scratch that, you can't, you absolute fuckup! You can't make any of this better, you're constantly ripping your family apart-
Her nails sink into you. She's upset. Anxious. Worried.
...I... You're... Thinking too much, Ash... I...
You take a deep breath, holding her as tightly as you can manage, yourself. You already know... Well, you suspect, you know what she's thinking.
L-Look, yes. I think she's hot. It's... Do you... Not?
She awkwardly shifts beneath you. Around you, more so. But you can feel her shake her head, no.
...Okay, fair. But... It's not...
...Do you think anyone is h-hot, love?
She again shakes her head no, but clarifies quickly.
You.
...Your heart both throbs and implodes. How perfect, another reminder that you're the fucked up side of the relationship, and she's a serial killer. Your self-esteem is through the fucking roof, isn't it?
...Okay then it's... Like, food. You have a favorite, but... Other things can taste good, right?
She nods, but slowly. You can tell she's still uncomfortable, at minimum. Worried.
You're my favorite food, love. The... Most beautiful thing I've e-ever laid eyes on.
You can feel her relax, a little bit. You shift, in turn, pulling yourself onto her lap, not quite straddling her.
Without you... My life is just... A constant wreck. You're the reason I wake up in the morning, Ashley.
You meet her eyes, finally. Worried, scared, but hopeful pinks staring back at you. You slowly lean in, pressing a tender, loving kiss to her lips, which she returns after a second, before whispering against her lips. She does the same, but her voice comes out pained, louder than your own.
I love you.
...Then why am I not enough?
You are, Ash. You're so much more than enough.
But-
Permuting a lesson from your teenage years, you shut her up with another kiss, this time drawing away from her, but resting your hand on her cheek.
No buts, dearest... You're beyond enough for me. A-And I know I... Shouldn't... But I still do... See other people.
Her silence prompts you to find your voice, more confident.
Why don't you eat shark at every meal, my sweet?
...Because sometimes I want other food...?
But shark is still your favorite, right?
She nods. Understanding, to some extent, but you suspect there will always be an emotional friction on this topic. Still, it's progress.
W-Well... You're my favorite person, Ash. The most gorgeous woman I'll ever see... Even when I can… appreciate someone else's appearance, I always... Always think back and compare them to you... See how you're better.
Her sad, understanding, hopeful, scared eyes lock with yours again, desperate for you to be telling the truth. Luckily, you are, and the smile you send her way is genuine, if a bit lopsided.
...I'm always going to be yours. Always. The fact that other people are also hot... Or have other traits that I might... Find a-attractive doesn't change that.
Her gaze turns into an accusing glance, for only a moment.
...What about people who you actually want to be with?
L-Like...?
Jane? You're not exactly subtle... Or quiet...
Your face is instantly scorched red, and you suddenly can't meet her eyes as well... Wait, does that mean she knew... There's too many thoughts to have for this now. Far too many.
...W-Well that doesn't... I don't really want that... With her, uh... But, I still meant everything I just said… I'm with you. Only you, Ashley.
It seems that wasn't a satisfactory answer. Obviously, you smooth little sinner you. Silence stretches uncomfortably.
Okay, look, beloved. Unless you want things to be different with me... I am with you. I'm with you. Yes, she’s… a-attractive… A-And if we weren't together, then maybe... Maybe I would try something. But-
She cuts you off, a hand on your cheek forcing you to meet her eyes.
Julia. Do you... Want to be with her?
...Not as much as I want to be with you, beloved. And not in the same way-
Yes, or no?
...If nothing else changed. I-If I was still yours, and you're still going to... Be mine... Yes. But i-if we're not then-
She cuts you off with a kiss, this time, and it's desperately short. You would kill for more time before she draws away.
...Do whatever you want. But... You really are mine... Okay?
…You don't seem comfortable with the idea, Ash.
Her silence is joined by the failure to meet your own eyes. That answers your question, then, and you curl up against her.
...You're right though. I'm all yours, beloved. Only yours. Attractive women don't change that... J-Jane doesn't change that. A-And what I want... Is for you to be happy. So, unless you w-wanted to do something else... Being entirely yours is what I want to do.
Worried eyes meet yours again, and lips are pressed to your own. Your arms now wrap up, around her shoulders. When you part, she nuzzles her head into the crook of your neck, half-holding you up. You can feel the progress being made, but the tension is still there.
What's going on in that head of yours?
...Nothing.
I know w-when you're lying, love...
Warm breath tickles your skin as she sighs into your neck.
...It's just... You're not really attracted to people who aren't... Your sisters...
Ah, now she's calling you out for it too.
So how much is just... You know. Taboo? ...How little do I actually-
You matter, Ash... The 'You' part is why I love you.
The fact that... You know. It's... Fun. D-Definitely helped define my type. But it's... A happy accident.
Given the whole adoption thing, it’s not really an accident…
O-Okay, sure. But… It’s hot. It isn’t… What makes you attractive, to me. It isn’t what makes every fiber of my being want to cling onto you, and never let go, or what gives me butterflies whenever you look my way. Compare that to Jane, where... She's h-hot... But I think a lot of that comes from... You know. It isn't the same for you.
She draws back from your neck, and the pained, hopeful, desperate look on her face makes your heart clench in pain. You do your best to smile at her, and project all the confidence you can into your voice.
…I love you, Ash. The fact that we’re sisters… Adopted or not... Just adds another layer to that. But all the other layers are still there.
You pull her against your chest, cradling her lovingly. It feels like she relaxes, even if only minutely.
And you’re more than enough for me, beloved… I’m not perfect. I can’t… Stop myself from seeing attractive women… And I think about things, sometimes.
I-I’m really, really sorry for that, but… I’m yours. Only yours. I’m not going to run off because of I saw someone pretty, or someone I want to s-sleep with. That includes everyone from strangers to h-her.
You put a thumb over your shoulder, pointed vaguely in the direction of your older sister.
And nothing is going to change that… Unless you want something to change about it.
…What would I change about that?
Anything, beloved. Whatever... You might want, that I can do.
Your arms squeeze around her, carefully.
M-Maybe you’ll find someone better than me and move on-
She cuts you off with a withering, almost offended glare, though neither of you say anything in its aftermath for several long seconds.
I finally have you… Why... How could I let go now…?
You can’t help but giggle, leaning in to kiss her forehead.
I’ve been thinking the same thing about you, beloved… I couldn’t imagine leaving you…
She settles against you again, though you can tell it’s contemplative and… somewhat uncomfortable. This is definitely something you'll need to prove to her, over time. You aren't sure how. But for now, you simply decide to hold her, and let things sink in.
Eventually, you hear the crappy motel shower start, and realize Jane has probably gotten sick or too drunk to remember what was happening. Ashley breaks the silence.
Maybe we should just… Steal her room and leave a note?
H-Huh?
You know, so she doesn’t just walk in on us?
You question if that was intentional phrasing, though the heat in your cheeks betrays what your body assumes the answer is. For once you’re not the biggest perv in the room, that award goes to Also You.
Oh… right, good plan. Uh- AH!
When you start to rise, she does so faster, scooping you up properly, one hand on your thighs, the other around your hips, and your own arms wrap around her neck. Your everything is fluttering, even though she’s just doing this to save time. Probably.
She throws you onto the bed. It’s not just to save time.
You Are Janey!
You’re always the first awake in this house. You would say it’s lonely, but the time without the rest of your family is a welcome change.
You make yourself coffee, treat yourself to a decent breakfast of eggs and bacon, and go to the lounge to relax before school.
And rather than peace, you find a little girl curled up next to the fireplace, lighter still in-hand. Watching the flames lick across bundles of wood and paper.
Of course you know her, that’s your new little sister. And apparently she’s both a night owl and a morning person.
What’s the deal with you and fire?
She doesn’t turn to look at you, just shrugging.
Okay… You want food? Coffee? Tea?
She just shrugs again.
Let’s try this, then. When’s the last time you ate?
A protracted silence follows, and you think she’s ignoring you until she speaks.
Few hours ago.
We should probably get you something before school, then… And I’ll put out the fire.
No!
Now you have her attention. She springs up like you’ve threatened to kick her puppy. So much for a peaceful morning.
Yes, Ash. You can’t just leave the fire going when we leave.
She screams something. It wasn’t fully intelligible but that may be because your ears popped from the sound. Thankfully, it doesn’t seem like anyone else heard it. Sound doesn’t carry very well, here.
You sigh deeply, then remember something. She screams something else as you walk off, retrieving an old toy from your own room. Your grandpa had made it when you were… Tiny. You don’t remember it directly.
You return with the apparatus and immediately begin explaining, simply pausing when she tries to yell the first time, and continuing. You’re glad patience is a strong suit.
Look, it’s… a little dancing light thing. You just fill the bottom, and light it, and whenever you open it there’ll be fire.
So it’s a stupid looking lighter?
No, a stupid looking lighter makes its own. With this…
You take a piece of kindling beside the fireplace, light it, then put it into the shell, watching a small, sputtering jet of flame shoot out where a pearl should be.
Now it’s the same fire, and you can keep it with you. Just don’t open it where a teacher can see. Sound good?
She takes the shell from you, closing it and opening it again, expecting the fire to go out. However, it persists, the shuddering jet of flame dancing unnaturally, switching from side to side. As she’s watching the little fire, you take the opportunity to put out the big one.
You guide her to a chair so she sits down, and with a sigh go to make her the same thing you had.
You lament the passing of your relaxing morning. Maybe you’ll have more in the future. But as long as she doesn’t yell every day, there shouldn’t be a problem.
You Are Ashley!
The light stabs your eyes until you wake up, and your first thought is that it’s far too early, despite it being the time you normally wake up. You get up and close the blinds, hopefully Julia can sleep in properly.
Your second thought, as you crawl back in beside her, is what had gotten into you last night? She bombarded you with an ocean of reassurances, said she wouldn't leave you.
Even while asleep she grabs back onto you, as though asking why you ever left. This is all new, from her... It's probably just for the sex, but if she’s happy and next to you, what are you bitching about? Just keep her sated, don't fuck it up, and enjoy the parts you can.
Your eyes trace her neck, collar, her chest, counting the dark circles, most of which you left last night. Even her lips are a kiss-bitten red, to match what you did to… other things. Seeing the aftermath of what you’ve done… It fills you with something familiarly unfamiliar. Something warm, and fuzzy, and heavy, that tries to fight the icy haze of your former thoughts.
Cold air passes across a similar array on your own body, though many fewer marks so appear. You lean in to kiss each hickey, starting at her shoulder, and working down and across her breasts, back up, until you find her lips. She’s a heavy sleeper, but you doubt she wouldn’t wake up to that. It's surprising she hasn't awoken already (the blinds don't exactly block much light).
Her hands cling to you, short nails almost digging into your skin even in her sleep, sending a sharp but pleasant kind of pain shooting through you. Your own arms wrap around her again, pulling the blanket over the both of you in the same motion.
…You’ve never seen her quite so… peaceful. Lips curled into a lazy smile, no tension or stress in her entire body.
And it’s because of you.
That fact makes your heart swell. Unfamiliar emotions challenge your contemplation, but you bury your head into the crook of her neck again. Breathe. Feel her slowly waking up in your arms.
Take that, unfamiliar emotions!
Mmmnnh...
Her nails cut ever so slightly deeper as her body tenses and stretches, a cute high-pitched noise that makes your heart dance filling the air before she opens her eyes, yellows finding yours immediately, shrinking to focus on you.
Goood~ morning, beloved!
Lips curl into a perfect, dreamy smile, which you immediately reacquaint with your own, and you find the motion is much more comfortable and natural than you were expecting. Her hands slide up to wrap around the back of your neck, holding you close after you pull away long seconds later. She giggles as you part, a soft, airy sound that makes your heart flip.
Amazing morning, darling...
She brings her lips to yours again, giggling again. You wonder what's got her in such a good mood. Probably sweet dreams of other women. Some collection of mind-hussies to meet every desire you can't. Which is probably most of them. It seems she noticed your mental absence, because she pulls away quickly, cupping your cheek with a hand, glowing eyes replaced with worry.
D-Did something happen? What's wrong?
...Nothing, Juls. Don't worry.
She doesn't believe you. You're expecting her to back down from the question, but it seems she's bold today.
Ashley... Please. I can tell when you're lying.
You try to cook up an excuse, but she doesn't give you the time before continuing.
Ash... Darling. Beloved. If... We're going to be together, I want to be together. W-Whatever's troubling you... I want to know... Please?
Conflicting emotions battle in your chest. Together, she says.
...Well, it's been a couple days. Aside from what happened with Jane yesterday, together has meant together. You bite the inside of your cheek. Her eyes look... Scared. Worried. About you.
...Fuck. You're doing the thing again.
...I don't know... How to say it.
She nods, you can see her eyes thinking for a moment before she looks away.
D-Do you regret... Last night? O-Or... Us?
You blink. You really fucked things up this time, huh?
No! Of course not... How could I?
She looks relieved, but her eyes betray further worries. You lean forward, pressing your lips to her forehead.
I haven't regretted a single thing we've done, sis.
You kiss the tip of her nose this time.
Having you with me... Together... Is everything I've wanted for so, so long.
When you see her eyes settle, hope that you're being honest winning out over fear, you kiss her on the lips. It's slow, loving, warm, in just the right way your head doesn't have much room to run around. But when you part, she speaks again.
Then what's got you upset, love?
...Do you regret-
N-No!
...I didn't finish what I was asking.
You don't need to. I-If it's about us... I only regret not k-kissing you sooner.
Now it's her turn to grab your face, both hands finding your cheeks and refusing to let you look away.
I'm with you, Ash... I'm even more with you now than... Ever before, and it's... E-Everything I've ever hoped for, and so, so much more.
...It's hard to even try and doubt what she's saying, when she's like this. When she's feeling brave and open. You feel some tiny piece of you that thinks she might be lying...
That this might be some ploy, she's become a master manipulator in the hours at a time you haven't been with her, and you never noticed. All so she can get away from you without problems.
...But that tiny piece is surrounded and getting stabbed repeatedly by everything else in your heart that screams at you that she might... Actually be telling the truth. That she took your hand and jumped, this time. That you've pulled back the curtain and she's done pretending.
Your vision gets blurry. You blink back tears that threaten to pour out, and you see her face contort with worry for only a moment before she leans in. First kissing away a tear that betrayed your efforts, then to your lips, the thin saltiness the only distraction from... Her. She pulls away far too soon, eyes meeting yours.
Loving. Reassuring. Worried. Genuine. With nothing to hide.
You latch onto her, a manic laugh forcing it's way out of your throat. Her arms fall to your waist, pulling you in completely, and you hear her giggling too, that perfect sound gracing your ears, a sound that you aren't the only one who won today. You fall against her, cheap motel bed creaking and hitting the wall as you both drop onto the sheets, giggling and laughing-
The wall is pounded, once, with the ball of someone's fist.
If you two are going to fuck, please keep it down so I can actually sleep!
...Well, Jane's hung over. It gets the both of you to pause for several seconds, you meet her eyes again before both of you break down into giggles, a blush slowly creeping onto her cheeks, almost obscuring her freckles. You draw the blanket around you both again, repositioning your hands as you do, leaving one on her hips, the other slung across her shoulder. Your eyes meet again. and moments later, your lips to do the same.
I love you, Juls...
And I love you, Ash.
Chapter 8: Risk
Notes:
Also sorry this has taken so long I’ve been SICK.
Chapter Text
(‘‘Twas an accident ignore this)
Hey that’s pretty cool (Guest) on Chapter 1 Wed 20 Aug 2025 12:29PM UTC
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AbelofAure on Chapter 1 Wed 20 Aug 2025 01:23PM UTC
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Hey that pretty cool (Guest) on Chapter 1 Wed 20 Aug 2025 10:06PM UTC
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Rayj4ck on Chapter 1 Sun 31 Aug 2025 05:29AM UTC
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Hey that’s pretty cool (Guest) on Chapter 2 Wed 20 Aug 2025 10:35PM UTC
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kyaniteheart on Chapter 3 Sun 31 Aug 2025 11:07PM UTC
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AbelofAure on Chapter 3 Mon 01 Sep 2025 09:23AM UTC
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kyaniteheart on Chapter 3 Tue 02 Sep 2025 12:55PM UTC
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Rayj4ck on Chapter 4 Sun 31 Aug 2025 04:50PM UTC
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AbelofAure on Chapter 4 Mon 01 Sep 2025 09:27AM UTC
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Hey that’s pretty cool (Guest) on Chapter 5 Wed 20 Aug 2025 11:16PM UTC
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Rayj4ck on Chapter 5 Sun 31 Aug 2025 05:08PM UTC
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Rayj4ck on Chapter 6 Sun 31 Aug 2025 11:13PM UTC
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AbelofAure on Chapter 6 Mon 01 Sep 2025 12:00AM UTC
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Rayj4ck on Chapter 7 Wed 03 Sep 2025 04:36PM UTC
Last Edited Wed 03 Sep 2025 04:39PM UTC
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AbelofAure on Chapter 7 Wed 03 Sep 2025 09:20PM UTC
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