For one moment, Coronis was content. Cradling her beautiful twin boys, at home on the ranch with her husband. A happily ever after!
POOF!
Suddenly back in her old clothes, old room, old life. Back to square one.
"....."
"...did...."
"Did I just dream all that up!????"
______
In all seriousness, the mun of helluvaoutlaw has told me that they are closing up their Striker blogs (both helluvaoutlaw and in-my-sights) for their own reasons. I will miss them both terribly, they're a wonderful Striker! However all things must come to an end. I'll miss you Striker!
Coronis was thinking on Striker's phone call late into the next day, cradling the twins against her as she watched Kitty and the Wild Ones...not paying too much attention to it. The boys seemed to like it, likewise enraptured by the action on the screen and one of the guaranteed times they would both sit still. One episode was about all they could handle before they got antsy, but Coronis imagined it was sort of like storytime for them.
She had made her decision, but still wasn't sure it was the right one to make.
Octavia....who was still very much her own person, might not have gotten engaged for the best reason. From what Coronis could gauge, Paimon had likely encouraged the match and arranged it as Phel would not be considered a challenger to Octavia's power, and better served as her consort in order to be in a domestic position of maintaining her lands and titles without threatening her. And Phel would have no reason to object if Paimon assisted with his memory loss, and the recovery of Castle Noctua.
But she had escaped a marriage not of her choosing. She wondered if they hadn't.
With Sinsmas only two weeks away, Coronis had been excited to set up the family for their first Sinsmas together.
She was still mindful of finances. Even with a good savings pocket and regular income, now buoyed by her able to sell her small-batch alcohol products, she was careful to set a clear budget for gifts. For herself at least. Striker had his own money, and would likely spent it as he wished. But where the household and farm was concerned, Coronis was very cautious not to overshoot.
However, there was a good first sign. She had sold four crates to the local saloon, and three to the grocery in town to sell behind the counter. The grocery had sold out, and the saloon had turned down multiple offers to buy bottles full out, citing the need to save them for their mixed drinks and shots.
Coronis had a waiting list of locals wanting bottles for their shelves, and double the amount being brewed for next time.
So that meant there was money for an extra special Sinsmas meal, presents, and a holiday bonus for Virgil and Flint. Though she wasn't sure if they were going to be staying with family for the holidays, she trusted her husband to catch up on all the necessary work with the horses before they left.
At the very least, it was a warmer Sinsmas. Holidays back home would be frigid...because Andrealphus would host in his ice palace and Coronis would near freeze as winter was laid atop the already frozen household. In fact, it never dropped below fifty degrees, at worst. Nighttime was colder of course, but not by much.
Walker and Match were crawling. Their tails seemed to be getting more agile along with their little legs and arms too. As Coronis sat with them on the rug in the living room, making a few last details on handmade hat for Burt (the inner brim lined with an iron plate to protect him from...mole people, she thinks?), she watched them work out their little bodies. Their tails liked to grab on to things, and Match was quite insistent on trying to drag as many toys with him as possible, twining his tail and grunting as he tried to manage the weight.
Walker was still...slow to start. His tail was hugging his little stuffed crow tightly, but he only scooted in short bursts, and seemed more fascinated watching his twin brother go at it with endless energy.
*A letter arrives at Keenie's house with the morning mail.*
Dear Keenie,
Been way too long since I wrote, and I reckon I owe ya an explanation.
Life’s been one hell of a ride lately, so I figured I’d catch ya up. Inside this envelope’s a picture of me, Cori, and our little ones. Yep, ya heard right: two twin boys! Match and Walker.
Ain’t they adorable?
They got my ivory hair and stubborn streak, but there’s plenty of Cori in ’em too: look at them feathers along their tails. Sweet as can be, but already raisin’ all kinds of chaos.
After we found out Cori was pregnant, things went south fast.
Her family—Goetia—ain’t exactly what you’d call kind to imps or hybrids.
We’re talkin’ real nasty business...might’ve killed the babies or stolen ’em away, and Cori? They’d have locked her up somewhere to rot. We couldn’t let that happen, so we ran.
Now, we’re out here in Wrath, startin’ fresh. Built ourselves a home on Featherscale Ranch, raisin’ hellhorses and keepin’ life honest. Believe it or not, Lucifer himself gave me a royal pardon. Guess even the big guy knows folks can change.
Cori’s still nervous about her family, though, and I can’t blame her. Marquis Andrealphus and Stella ain't exactly the forgivin' kind...
But we’d love to visit ya at Sugar Buzzed when the dust settles a bit.
Been missin’ ya, Keenie: ya were there for me when I needed it most, and I ain’t forgot that.
Write back when ya can, alright? Hope things are goin’ smooth for ya.
Yours truly,
Striker
@helluvaoutlaw
Keenie's tail wiggles and she softly smiles as she reads the letter from her old friend.
So Striker finally got his happily-ever-after, and with a Goetian no less. That was a surprise. It was sweet to hear that he started a family, especially after the rumors she heard about his past.
But the biggest shock was to see Lucifer's name written before on the note before her. Striker received a royal pardon? A cowboy, who cursed the monarchy up and down, was able to put his bias aside. Maybe her friend was right... he really did change, just not in the way he described in the letter.
The lamb studies the picture of Striker and his beautiful family. Every member looked so happy and filled with love. Guilt tugged at her heartstrings when she felt the cool surface of the Asmodean Crystal that hung around her neck. Striker deserved to know her big secret. And if he really has changed, then maybe he would understand her choice.
Pulling out her phone she begins to type out a text:
Hey Striker! It's Keenie. I'm not sure if you still have this phone number, but I wanted to let you know that I got your letter. I think it would be a great idea to bring your family down to Sugar Buzzed to catch up!
But I will only let you come to visit on one condition... You better bring your guitar! I bet your boys would love to see you play on stage!
(as sort of a companion piece to @helluvaoutlaw's Fatherhood)
The babies are not crying when Coronis wakes up. She has learned by routine to wake with the sun, and feeling the first dawn of Wrath's many suns invigorates her better than any alarm.
She originally had an alarm. But she stopped because the twins would hear it and cry, as it disrupted their sleep. So she stowed it away, saving it for later. She was sure Striker had gotten up for her in the middle of the night, as he slept deeply beside her. She was good about hearing the boys first...but given they were still so young, it was impossible to stay awake for all their needs through the night.
For now, they slept. They would be up and at it in no time, but she had work to do.
She quietly slid out of bed, kissing Striker on the cheek, per her custom. It was time to start the day.
Cori cleaned herself up in the bathroom, brushing out her feathers, changing into her clothes. She peeked in on the nursery, but Walker and Match were still curled together like two kittens, sleeping peacefully. It was enough assurance that she could go downstairs and start breakfast without waking them.
First the coffee machine, then the kettle. Setting up her mug for tea and Striker's mug for coffee. Taking out formula from the fridge and adding it to the row. It would need time to be warmed up, but with the extra hot water from the kettle, she could set them in a bowl with the boiling water to get to the perfect temperature by the time the babies woke.
Coronis enjoyed establishing a routine. There was always work to do now, which had been a bit of an adjustment. Having jumped from a life of idle leisure to one of constants had been a bit of a leap. But she was proud of her work. The distillery was ready to sell alcohol, with the small batches having finished their fermentation, the ranch was well maintained with regular work to do. Being a wife and mother had put her to the challenge of organizing things, and she found she quite enjoyed it.
For breakfast, she mixed up fluffy biscuits and put them into bake, before putting sausages on the skillet to fry up. Setting out the spreads for biscuits, reheating the white gravy Striker liked so much on his biscuits, washing and chopping a basic fruit salad. Striker would get eggs with his, but closer to the time. And of course, keeping her ear peeled for the children. She could see that the ranch hands were already awake, the light in their cabin visible from the kitchen window. And by the time the sausages were crispy and set aside, she heard the first fussy wail.
"Bright and early." She sighed. The sun was finally over the horizon, just in time.
Walker was the one crying. Match was squirming, about to wake up, but Coronis picked up Walker first, and soothed him. "There, there my darling. It's a brand new day." He needed a new nappy and would be wanting breakfast soon. "Let's change that nasty diaper hm?"
Walker was relieved when he was changed, just in time for Match to squall in that he wanted his diaper changed too. Coronis affixed Walker to her back with the baby sling before picking his brother up, likewise working to change his diaper, before setting Match in the front sling. They were getting heavier by the day, even though she dwarfed them by a great deal.
"Oh..." Cori made a sad noise. "You two are going to get so big I can't carry you like this anymore...."
Not that would keep her from trying.
The milk in the warm water was just right as she tested the temperature on it, and breakfast was laid out. She sipped her tea, briefly having to stop Match from grabbing at it, before setting them in their high chairs. "We said we'd try peaches today didn't we?" She crooned, picking up their bottles. "So let's be very good and drink all our milk, okay?"
Blessed miracles, feeding the babies was never hard. Both of them are voraciously, without refusing anything, and by the time she'd finished giving them their milk, they were already gabbing at the table. Match had found his voice first and seemed to babble at his brother nonstop when they were awake and playing. Walker....perhaps he was self conscious? He made tiny little "ah" sounds. Sometimes trying to say something.
The peaches had been mashed up the night before, saved for breakfast. And she heard the tapping of hooves upstairs. Daddy was up.
She poured his coffee, and brought over her own plate of warm biscuits with marmalade and butter, before sitting down at the table. Trying to get the boys to try the peaches.
Striker yawned as he descended, but he was dressed and ready, and quickly came to kiss his wife and the two boys. "Mornin'. Smells good down here."
"Breakfast is all ready. Virgil and Flint look like they're up early too." She reciprocated, letting him take his breakfast. "I think Hindy will be by later to take a look at foals, but I'm afraid they were awfully vague with when they would visit this week."
Striker grunted. "Hmph! Hindy's always vague. He says this week, he means a month from now."
Nonetheless, Coronis was treated to a very cute tableau.
Her husband, the love of her life, constantly distracted by his breakfast because of his two sons, trying to encourage them to try more of the mashed peaches, or chuckling when they made a mess. Her babies, her wonderful boys, bright-eyed and curious, with pale yellow mash on their faces and on their trays. Walker with his look of wonder and Match just giddily enjoying himself.
Striker caught her look, and was amused.
"What's that look?"
Cori looked surprised, but laughed. "What look?" She questioned, drinking her tea. "This is just my face darling."
"You've got a look." He teased. "What happened? Did something good happen to you this morning?"
Cori thought it over.
"This morning." She nodded. "Yesterday morning. Tomorrow morning." Striker's eyes widened in realization, and he smiled warmly. "Every morning for the rest of my life."
The twins stopped their play-eating. They seemed to catch her blissful expression, and babbled, reaching out to her. And despite their sticky fingers and hands, she took their little paws and held them close.
I hope this here letter finds you in good spirits. I’ll admit, writin’ to you feels a bit outta my depth, but there’s somethin’ mighty important I wanted to share.
Now, you and I both know my past ain’t exactly spotless. I ain’t gonna pretend I didn’t do some terrible things...things that kept me lookin’ over my shoulder more often than not.
But ever since King Lucifer (themosthatedbeing) granted me that royal pardon, I’ve done my damndest to make good on it.
Your Majesty, I’ve built somethin’ here I never thought I’d have: a life worth livin’.
I’ve traded my old ways for somethin’ honest. Got myself a beautiful wife, Coronis, who’s the best thing to ever happen to me, and twin boys, Match and Walker, who’re more than enough to keep me on my toes. They’re loud, messy, and downright perfect, if I’m bein’ honest.
What I’m tryin’ to say is, I reckon my life now stands as proof that even the roughest, most broken soul can turn things around. Redemption ain’t easy, but it’s real, and I’d be honored if you’d come see it with your own eyes.
I’d like to invite you out to Featherscale ranch in Wrath for a barbecue lunch. Nothin’ fancy, just good food, good company, and maybe a chance to talk about what a second chance can mean.
Thank you for considerin’ it, Your Majesty.
With respect,
Striker
*At the bottom of the letter there are the exact coordinates of the ranch.*
( @helluvaoutlaw )
"Well, damn," Satan remarked. "So Charlie was right TWICE now..."
The contents of this letter compelled the Sin to reflect. Had he exercised severe punishment unjustly? Could the lesser demons he had condemned to death have been reformed? Was there more to the Princess' ideology than simply turning over a new leaf? Only time will tell.
*A letter for Susan arrives with the morning mail*
Dear Auntie Susan,
It’s been too long since I wrote or showed up at your house, and for that, I owe ya an apology.
Life’s been...well, let’s just say, complicated.
After we found out Coronis was pregnant, things got messy fast.
Her family wouldn’t have let us be happy, let alone let the babies live.
She's the half sister (she ain't her father's child) of Marquis Andrealphus and Stella, Prince Stolas's bitchy ex-wife, so y'know... petty, dangerous assholes.
They would’ve taken them from us or worse, and locked her away.
We couldn’t let that happen.
So, we ran.
We eloped and left our old lives behind to start fresh.
I wanted to share some news and let ya know how we’re doin' out here in Wrath.
Now, we’ve got a little slice of peace out here. I’m running a hellhorse ranch—Featherscale Ranch—and, believe it or not, Lucifer himself gave me a royal pardon.
Yeah, the big guy upstairs (well, metaphorically speaking) gave me a shot at an honest life.
Cori is still scared, though.
Her family’s cruelty ain't somethin' you just shake off overnight, and I’d never risk her feelin' unsafe.
That’s why we haven’t been able to visit.
But I’d love for you to meet the kids, Auntie. They’re everythin' good in this world, and they deserve to know the woman who made sure I never completely lost myself.
Inside this letter you’ll find a photo of me, Coronis, and the little ones, Match and Walker.
Ain't they cute?
They’ve got my ivory hair and stubborn streak (no surprise there), but ya can see Cori in them, too: the feathers along their tails and the way their eyes light up, just like hers.
I hope we can see ya soon, once Cori feels ready. You’ll love her, I know it. And the little ones... they’d melt your heart.
Take care of yourself, and write back if you can. I’ll be looking out for your letter.
With love,
Striker
@helluvaoutlaw
Rubbish. Rubbish. 99.9% of her mail was rubbish. Except today. A clean envelope with her name handwritten on it, and a faint scent of smoke, musty hay and a familiar musk she had come to know too well. The rest of the mail smoldered into ash as she dropped them into the garden but brought the singular one and the newspaper inside.
She poured herself a cup of tea and moved towards back of her home here back sunroom and porch were. It was getting too cold for the porch but the sunroom was still enjoyable.
It had been a while since he had last called her, even longer from the last time he visited. Over the years he had hardened herself to the idea that one day that slithering cocky bastard might never return, but she could not help but feel relieved when she caught wind of his antics while reading the news. She tore open the envelope and sat down with the massively and uncharacteristically long letter. Though....if she thought about it. She bounced the leaves of paper in her hand,
"Hm. It would equate to one of his long winded stories."
She adjusted her glasses and started reading through his lizard scratch. The further she made it down the page, the tighter her brow knitted.
"WHAT?! OOOH!" She exclaimed loudly, slamming her cup down onto its saucer. "I SHOULD HAVE DOCKED HIS STUPID TAIL! C-Coronis?! THE LITTLE NERVOUS TWITTER BIRD?!" The letter lowered for a moment and her nose wrinkled and her eyes narrowed. How? How? Was this the reason why he has been MIA for all these months?! He knocked up demon royalty?!?!
"Oh my brimming with brimstone Lilith in Hell!" She groaned as she continued to read more. Pregnancy, elopement, the Ice Bird, the Screech Owl, Stolas, Wrath AND LUCIFER?!"
He was exhausting her. There was no level of carrion he could send to her to make this mental and emotional exhaustion away. She continued on, flicked the next page to back of the stack and came face to face with a photo.
"You really can't stay away from them can you?" She lifted the photograph and looked at the family he had formed. "Stupid cowboy. Whatever happened to damning demon nobles and royalty? You started one job and you just sank deeper and deeper into their affairs."
She sat back and continued to look at the picture. "Well, if you have the protection of Lucifer. I suppose its alright." She paused and looked into her home and for a moment reimagined a bustling dining room.
"They're cute, Beanpole. I don't know how you fell for the greasy sweaty soot covered assassin, Coronis, but I hope he treating you and the children well." She paused and smiled.
"Well....I take that back I know he probably is doing it to the best as he can. Family was basically a pipe dream for most of these years. He's capable and.....stupid."
A set of paws and claws came scampering into the room and hopped up onto the nearby chair to sniff at the mail, Zilber's black tail wagging. "Here you go Zilber." She said handing the fox the letter and photo. You know what to do with it." The fox shuffled the papers under its two front paws and let out a loud bark, as the letters seemed to burn away into nothing. Safely stored away for no one to see or find.
Susan took her cup back up to her lips. "You better remember how to dodge when you visit, Beanpole. I'm going to ask Lambchop to stock up on all the decorative vases and saucers from Bee's parties for me." And petted Zilber, who panted happily, imagining the fun time it would be to run and dash with Striker as Susan hurled pottery and glassware at him.
