#fly into rage make a bad landing

[halloawhatisthis]

Elementary playing the long game with Odker (part 6):

5x09 It Serves You Right To Suffer 5x12 Crowned Clown, Downtown Brown 5x13 Over A Barrel 5x14 Rekt In Real Life 5x16 Fidelity 5x18 Dead Man's Tale 5x19 High Heat 5x21 Fly Into Rage, Make A Bad Landing 5x23 Scrambled

[claudia-kishi]

requested by @helloyona ♡

[heavenlyhischier]

𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐰 | 𝐋𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

word count: 3k

summary: what do you do when you fight with your best friend before you go back home and his brother calls you, offering to fly you out because his little brothers been moping around?

warnings: jealous luke (but only a little bit), cursing, angst but not too bad i don’t think (just besties fighting and making up), unedited, make out sesh at the end

You had been curled up on your couch all day watching Jersey Shore when you heard your phone vibrate on the coffee table. Pausing the show, you leaned forward to grab your phone and furrowed your brows when Jack’s name was displayed across the top of the screen. After the way you had left things with Luke the last time you visited, you debated on whether or not you wanted to answer the call. However, the anxious thoughts that something might have happened to your closest friend were enough to slide your finger across the screen.

“Hey,” You answered, fingers nervously dragging across the blanket in your lap, “Is everything okay?”

“Actually, I was going to ask you that question,” Jack’s voice came through the other end, laced with a slight sense of worry and curiosity.

“Everything’s fine,” You slowly spoke, straightening your back, “Why?”

“I don’t know, Luke’s just been super mopey since you left. Like even worse than he usually is, and he won’t talk to me,” Jack sighed, and you could picture him running his hand through his hair, “I was thinking that maybe I could fly you up here for the weekend. Seeing you always makes him feel better.”

Your breathing faltered at his words before you managed a weak, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Jack’s silence on the other end made you nervous. You don’t blame him, of course. You had been friends with Luke for nearly three years now and not once had you turned down a visit to see him. Not when he was at Michigan, and definitely not now that he was in Jersey. Typically, you would drop anything if it meant getting to visit your best friend.

“We sort of got into an argument before I left last time,” You explained, trying to push through the unnerving tension in your stomach.

“About what?”

Recalling the events of that morning, you let out a frustrated sigh. It was over the stupidest thing, and it got completely blown out of proportion. Truthfully, the arguing isn’t what had upset you. It was what Luke had said right before you left his apartment that truly bothered you.

“I don’t see why it’s such a big deal,” You yelled, throwing Luke a harsh glare as you gathered your stuff, “He gave me his number, so what?!”

“Why would you even want to go out with a barista,” He spit the word out as if it burned his tongue, “That’s so-”

“Oh my god, Luke! It doesn’t matter where he works. Stop being such a self-righteous asshole. Just because you’re a big shot hockey player, doesn’t make everyone else inferior to you.”

You were seething at this point, frustrated tears steadily rolling down your cheeks as you shoved all of your things into your bag. Truly, you wanted nothing more than to just drop the entire ordeal, but you knew that wouldn’t happen. In order to drop it, Luke would have to realize that he was wrong and apologize. Judging by the rage in his eyes and his rigid body, that wasn’t going to happen before you had to take leave to go back home.

“My ride is here, so I’ll just text you when my plane lands,” You dismissed, wiping at your cheeks as you grabbed your bags.

“Don’t bother.”

Your head snapped in his direction, and all you were met with was a blank expression on his face, his arms crossed over his chest. He raised his eyebrow as if he was baiting you, seeing if you were going to hit back at him. Instead, you shook your head as you let out a mangled scoff, walking out of his apartment and letting the door slam shut behind you.

“Something stupid. Doesn’t matter, but I don’t think me coming would be a good idea. I’m sorry, J,” You felt tears prick at your eyes as you denied his proposal. You wanted to see Luke more than anything, but he hadn’t even tried to text or call you since you left. He hadn't even liked the instagram picture you posted last week.

“Please,” He whined, “If you’re in some dumb fight, that’s all the more reason for you to come. So you can work it out.”

Jack went on for nearly fifteen more minutes, listing off all of the reasons it was a good idea for you to come. He told you that if Luke was an ass to you, then he would handle it and get you an early flight back home if that’s what you wanted. It wasn’t until you heard his voice in the background of the phone call, asking Jack who he was talking to, when you really contemplated it. You could tell Jack had pulled his phone away from his ear by the way the voices were muffled, but what he had said when he returned made you say yes.

The plan was as follows:

You board your flight at roughly 1:49 pm on Friday

Text Jack when you’re about to land and he’ll send a car for you since he had practice.

You go up to his apartment and wait for their arrival.

Most importantly, don’t tell Luke.

It seemed simple and easy, but your heart was racing a mile a minute as you walked through their apartment door and thought of all the bad things that could happen. Discarding your bag far enough away from the door that it would go unnoticed, you glanced around the living room to see that absolutely nothing had changed. Video game controllers were strewn across the coffee table, various blankets tossed haphazardly across the arms of the couch, and laundry baskets of unfolded laundry tucked in the corner. You couldn’t help but admire the random photos they had on their wall, most of them courtesy of Ellen or yourself, and on their tables. However, you paused in your steps as you heard the keypad beeping from the other side.

“Why are you smiling at me like that,” Luke grumbled, tossing Jack a glare he’s gotten used to over the last two weeks.

“What? I can’t smile at my baby brother,” Jack teased, ignoring his brothers bad attitude since he knew what, or who, was on the other side of the door.

“No. Not like that,” Luke pushed through the door.

You were holding your breath as you waited for him to notice you standing in the middle of his living room. Nerves crawled across your skin, lighting it on fire as you became fearful that you had made a mistake by coming. Fearful that he was still mad at you and would tell you to go back home. Fearful that he would take one look and completely ignore you.

His eyes finally landed on you, and it was as if the entire world stopped spinning. He stumbled over his own feet, eyes widening and raking over your entire body as if he was trying to figure out if you were real or not. You let out the breath you had been holding when you watched him throw his bag on the ground and take the two strides needed towards you. He slightly bent over, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you into him so close that you’re certain he was trying to merge you into one person.

You wasted no time in wrapping your arms around his neck as he buried his face in yours. His damp hair stuck to your exposed skin, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as you let yourself completely fall into the feeling of him. You could feel all of the tension you had been holding from your argument dissipate the longer he held you close.

“I missed you so much,” He whispered against you, his warm breath slightly tickling your neck.

“I missed you, too,” You murmured, feeling your chest strain as you struggled to breathe, “But you gotta let me go. I can’t breathe.”

He reluctantly let you go, and the tears that lined his eyes and his utterly defeated look made your heart break. You had to force yourself to break the contact, if only briefly, to make your way to Jack. He wrapped you up in his arms, but the feeling that it elicited was nowhere near the same when it was his brother. There were no butterflies filling your stomachs or sparks flying when he touched you. He whispered a quiet ‘thank you for coming’ before letting you go and retreating to his room.

“C’mon,” You called out as you grabbed his duffel bag, “Let’s go lay down.”

Luke took your free hand and let you pull him to his room. He cringed when you pushed the door open and realized that it was an absolute mess. He hadn't had the energy to clean it up recently, and the look on your face told him that you wanted to say something about it, but you didn’t. Instead, you placed his bag on the floor in front of his dresser, curtly nodding when Luke told you that he had at least cleaned his sheets a few days ago.

He watches as you kick your shoes off and settle into the middle of his bed, your brow raised as he stays put in the doorway. Regaining his composure, he rid himself of his own shoes and shrugged his jacket off before slipping into the spot next to you. He was hesitant to reach out and pull you over to him like he’d always done, but you simply tugged him down so his head was on your chest. He draped his arm around your waist and held you tightly, matching your breathing.

Your fingers carded through his damp, messy hair as silence enveloped the two of you. Neither of you said anything in fear of ruining the moment, but you both knew something needed to be said. It needed to be fixed instead of pretending like nothing happened.

“We haven’t talked in a while,” He started, trying to focus on the way you felt against him instead of the awkwardness that now hung in the air.

You let out a quiet hum as you reminded him, “You’re the one who told me not to text you.”

“I know, I’m so sorry,” His voice cracked as he clung to you, “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I should have never done any of that. I regretted all of it as soon as I said it. I hated not talking to you. It was the worst three weeks of my life.”

You dropped your eyes down to his face and saw a stream of tears flowing down his cheeks and onto your shirt. It was easy to ignore the growing wet spot in your shirt, but the aching in your chest wasn’t as easy to shrug off. Seeing Luke cry made you feel like someone was ripping your heart out. Tears of your own spilled down your cheeks as you shifted so that you were able to comfort him.

“Hey, it’s okay,” You whispered, gently wiping away at his cheeks with your free hand, “It’s okay, Luke. I’m sorry, too. We both said things we didn’t mean, but it’s okay. We’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”

He nodded against your chest, breathing shallow and uneven as he tried to get himself to stop crying. He felt pathetic and weak as he let his emotions get the best of him, but he at least felt safe and comfortable enough with you to not really care. He knows you would never judge him.

“I really did miss you. So much,” Luke sniffled, nudging his head against you.

“I missed you too, Luke. I missed you a lot,” You breathed out, closing your eyes as you leaned your head against his headboard.

“Not the same,” His voice was so quiet that you barely heard it.

“What do you mean,” You pulled your brows together, opening your eyes to glance at the boy on your chest.

“Nothing, never mind,” He mumbled as he shook his head.

Not wanting to press the situation any further, you lightly hummed and leaned your head back once again. You lightly scratched at his scalp as your fingers threaded in his hair, his breathing steadying down to a slower, relaxed pace. His fingers were digging into your hip as if he was afraid you were going to leave again, and it made your chest burn.

Intimate moments like this weren’t uncommon in your friendship with Luke, but they still clouded your thoughts nonetheless. He has always been extremely physical with you the entire time you’ve known him; a part of his body touching you no matter what was going on. His arm would be thrown over your shoulders, his hand on your lower back, his legs thrown over your lap, or one of you would be laying on the others chest as you watched tv. While you know Luke didn’t mean anything by his constant affection, that didn’t stop the warmth from spreading throughout your chest and to your stomach every time.

No matter how hard you had tried to push your feelings for Luke away, they would pop back up like they never left the second you saw him again. You had to constantly remind yourself that that's just how Luke was. He was probably a touchy guy with everyone he cared about in his life, and you shouldn’t read too much into it unless you wanted to get hurt.

“Saw that you scored a couple goals the other night,” Your voice cut through the silence, making Luke’s eyes snap to your own, “You played pretty good, I guess.”

“You watched the game,” He asked incredulously, eyes wide and lips parted.

“Of course I did, Luke. I watch every single one,” You lightly chuckle at the way his eyes were blown with surprise.

“But you- you always ask me how they were like you don’t ever watch them,” He lowly spoke, eyebrows knitting together in slight confusion. You could hear a slight hint of hurt when he mentioned you not watching his games, and that sent a pang of guilt to your chest.

“I know,” You bashfully spoke, cheeks tinging pink as you continued, “I do that because I like hearing you talk about them. You just get so excited and passionate, and I don’t know. I guess I just like listening to your perspective over anything else.”

The air around the two of you shifted as Luke’s eyes dragged from your eyes and down to your lips, and back up again. Your heart raced and your stomach twisted itself into knots as you waited to see what he would say, or do.

He rasped your name, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly, “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded a bit too quickly and eagerly than you would have liked, but the second you did, Luke was crashing his lips with your own. Your eyes flutter closed as you let yourself fall entirely into the moment in front of you, thoughts composing entirely of the way his lips felt on your own. You’d imagined this time and time again, but there was absolutely nothing that could have prepared you for the real deal. He was hovering over you, one of his arms supporting his weight while the other wound around your back to pull you into his chest, and you were falling into a blissful dizzying haze.

Luke pulled away, a small whine escaping your lips at the loss of warmth, but he simply pulled you on top of him. Your legs straddled his thighs, blood pounding in your ears and lip pulled between your teeth as you met his piercing gaze. His hands hesitantly dragged up your thighs, the skin underneath your leggings begging for his touch. Using his shoulders to keep your balance, you slowly leaned forwards, eyes darting from his eyes to his lips.

Your mouth finally meets his again, your dominant hand moving up his neck and to the back of his head to tangle in his mess of damp curls. A gentle tug to his hair allows you to slip your tongue in his mouth, a breathless whimper vibrating on your lips as his hands cups your thighs and moves you against him. He groans as your press yourself onto him, but you spring off of him when you hear the door opening.

“Are you guys hungr-,” Jacks voice cut off into a scream as he hastily slammed the door shut, “I’m going to go to that one place down the road to eat, you two carry on! I’m ready to be an uncle!”

You met Luke’s horrified stare, raising your eyebrows before the two of you fell into a fit of laughter. He threw his head back on to his pillow, his hands gently pulling you forward so that you fell against his chest. Your breathing is heavy as you nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck, fingers ghosting over the bare skin on his arm.

“I swear he has a sixth sense for ruining my moments,” He breathed out, glancing down at you as your face twisted in confusion, “I’ve wanted to kiss you before, but Jack always seemed to walk in just before I could actually do it. At least this time he waited.”

“Should’ve just done it,” You teased, lightly pinching at his skin.

“Yeah, but I wasn’t sure if you even felt the same way,” He admitted, shrugging before he continued, “I convinced myself there was no way you liked me back, especially after I got jealous because that barista gave you his number. The way I acted- I thought you were gone for good.”

His voice was thick with emotion and his eyes were screwed shut, and you knew that was his way to keep himself from letting his tears fall again. Your hand slipped up to cradle his jaw in your hand, “I will always be here, Luke. For the record, if it’s not obvious, I do like you back.”

His hand slips underneath your shirt, fingers dancing across the skins of your back as the two of you let the comfortable silence envelope you. The sound of the door shutting tore through the stillness in his room, letting the two of you know that Jack did indeed leave to get food.

“You know,” You peered up at him, placing a small, barely there kiss underneath his jaw, “He’s gone now…”

[sister-lucifer]

Apology, With Tears 

Lucifer x Gender Neutral Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst/Comfort

Summary: Lucifer comforts you during a hard time, and reminds you that your feelings are always welcome with him

Content/Warnings: Comfort, guilt, angst with happy ending, implied venting (the source of anguish itself isn’t specified, please project whatever issue you may be having onto this fic /srs)

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio! 

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

“I-I’m sorry….” 

Your voice was so small. Shockingly, terrifyingly so. For a moment Lucifer froze, unsure if he had really heard it. The words were as fragile as a single snowflake landing on the bare concrete, ready to break and melt into oblivion at any moment. They were as quiet as the coo of a dove in a raging thunderstorm, and yet they shook Lucifer to his very core. 

“Excuse me?” 

“I’m sorry, Lucifer…” 

There was a small part of him that thought maybe the repetition would bring clarity, but no such luck. Gently he hooked two fingers under your chin, tilting your head up towards him in a slow manner so that you’d have ample opportunity to resist him if you’d like. 

You did not. You allowed him to meet your eyes with his. 

That was the softest you’ve ever seen his gaze. 

The sharp brows that were usually taut with annoyance were furrowed just slightly in such a way that you could tell Lucifer didn’t even know he was doing it. He would never purposely let concern show so obviously, but it seems he was preoccupied with other, more pressing concerns at the moment. 

Something sorrowful in the swirling red of his eyes stabbed into your heart with a pang of guilt. To know you had caused Lucifer—the chronically overworked head of house—such worry brought a heaving sob from you. 

The last of your resilience disappeared like a flame in the wind. The tears flowed freely, and there was no stopping them. They ran fast down your cheeks and fell into your shaking palms and stained your shirt. They were shamefully, burning hot, like liquid fire on your face, but once they fell to your lap you could not feel them. You brought up an arm to cover your eyes, the tears soaking into your sleeve and soon after your skin. 

“I’m…I’m sorry, I—“ 

“Please, please stop saying that, my love….” 

The words are surprising, but even in your shock you can’t bring yourself to look up at Lucifer. 

“Why…” He begins, at a loss for words for the first time since he can remember. 

“…Why do you keep apologizing?” 

You thought you’d have an immediate answer, and yet when you open your mouth no words come. That should be an easy question. You knew why. 

Didn’t you? 

You have to search a bit more before you even think of speaking. 

“I just…I feel bad for…b-being like this—“ 

“Being like what?!” Lucifer interrupts, and now his confusion and desperation is showing through. He’s not raising his voice and yet his words hold a sense of urgency akin to that of a scream for help. He isn’t angry, but he is so overwhelmingly worried. 

“I…I-I shouldn’t…” You have to fish around in the word pool a bit more before pulling out the right ones. “I shouldn’t be…making you deal with this, i-it’s my problem, I can handle it, I…” 

The pause is heavy. Unbearably, crushingly heavy. 

“I shouldn’t be doing this to you…” 

It is in this moment that Lucifer’s black heart shatters into countless pieces. The larger fragments linger in their place, the smaller splinters go flying off in all directions. It is likely that he will never recover all of them. There is no way to when something like this happens. He knows that you have felt the same. You have lost many pieces of your heart along the way here. 

Fortunately, Lucifer has some to spare. 

“You aren’t doing anything to me, my love…” He assures you, taking your hands in his. His grip is loose, encouraging you to follow his movements instead of forcing you. 

“You talk about yourself as if you are some terrible, laborious thing that must be dealt with against all will. I’m not here because I am forced to or because I feel I must, or else. If I thought this wasn’t a serious matter I would have walked out of this room long ago.” 

He’s right. You know he’s right. Living with six unruly little brothers means Lucifer has a very high tolerance for emotional turmoil. You’ve seen him shoo his bickering brothers away or send an injured Mammon off with no more than a ‘good luck’ and a wave of his hand. He knew his brothers could deal with themselves. 

But you? You were not them, but he still knew exactly what you needed.

“You are not some heavy burden forced on my shoulders, I choose to be here. You have nothing to apologize for because I am asking you to seek me out for help.” 

A gloved thumb wipes a tear from your cheek, and for the first time you meet Lucifer’s gaze on your own. His expression is lighter somehow,  brows not pressed quite so tightly together. 

“Hardships cannot be endured alone, that is a fact. They are meant to be shared. So please, no more ‘sorry.’ Apologies are for when you do something wrong…like how a certain twin keeps eating the drywall in the common room…” 

You can’t help but laugh at that. It’s weak, hardly intelligible through your labored breathing, but Lucifer hears it. 

The smile that crosses his lips is merely a ghost, gone in a moment. 

But you see it. 

It comforts you in such a way that it destroys every defensive wall you had been fighting so hard to keep up. Suddenly you’re reaching for him, gripping onto his uniform shirt with aching fingers before pulling him to you. A loud sob echoes through you as you hide your face against his chest, hot tears leaving trails down his button up. 

If you were anyone else in any other scenario, Lucifer would probably be a bit appalled at how you were ruining his freshly ironed uniform. 

And yet, the thought never even crossed his mind.

A tender hand strokes the back of your head, and the other ushers you up into a more comfortable sitting position in his lap. 

He doesn’t shush you, or tell you it’s okay, because it isn’t. But it doesn’t have to be. He knows you will calm yourself in your own time. 

Until then, he is more than content to stay right here. 

[kurosstuff]

Hi could I please request a Lute x GN! Reader where Lute and reader get into an argument before the failed extermination and reader dies?

( if you aren’t comfy please ignore this ask ^^ thank youu )

But huge warning? This is a darkish fic. Like its detailed- kinda

I'm gonna mix this with an idea I was actually making similar to this request if you don't mind♡

Warning(s): cannibalsm(..there's cannibals around), blood. War. DEATH(a littke detailed) like? Implied what's happening. just? Very sad, slight toxic relationship?(lute doesn't understand-)

Lute x Reader

Fights were common. Especially in relationships. Only difference in heaven given how usually no one fights. Unless your lover happened to be lute.

Most fights with lute don't typically end with a screaming match. But in this case, it did. It was the worst fight you've ever had with her. You assumed it was from whatever Adam did. But now? As your pacing ignoring her as she screamed her head off at you. You don't know.

You don't even know what triggered her violent self. Sighing, you shook your head. "Lute. You're a cruel woman, " which? Set her off into a rose tantrum, sighing, rubbing your head at the growing headache. From these arguments, you opened your mouth to apologize just to get this over with

"Drop dead Y/N" she snarled out before freezing. Everything became quiet as you stared at her, confused, shocked? You didn't know what to feel. Turning you did what you should have done.

You walked away

-

Not once since your fight did you go back home. You didn't want to talk to her. Fight anymore, especially now as you trained for the next battle. Going to the hotel itself.

Frowning, you sighed, ignoring how Adam himself moved to try and convince you to talk to Lute "no Adam. She knows she fucked up. She needs to apologize, " you snarled, glaring at his attempt to again fix you both up. Walking right past him you sighed.

You both knew? Lute would never apologize. Her pride is too big.

If anything, she expects you to apologize to her for starting something(even though she did) closing your eyes to ignore the regret. Ignore the need to find her. Kiss her. Tell her everything is going to be fine- wrap her in your wings and hold your mate. But you don't. You walk right past her training

She needed to do it. You won't hold her hand through this. It's her responsibility to take care of her mistakes.

-

The battle was a mess. It's a huge mess. Everyone was dying. Angels demons - all around you was just blood shed.' Your missing leg was evidence of this matter. Closing your eyes behind your broken mask, you smiled. Lute would be fine. She's safe. She'd get out

That's all that mattered to you

You prayed Lute wouldn't find you. Prayed she would just fight leave with Adam like usual and just go home during arguments. Just have faith you'd come home.

Your lip quivered as memories with her flashed through your mind. All the good the bad. Everything. As footsteps and cackling was heard around you. A tear ran down your face

"I love you lute" was all you could say before hands grabbed at you.

-

Lute was in a panic flying around the blood shed searching high and low for you. Where the fuck can you have gone? Snarling easily sliced a demon, not even looking before she paled getting pissed the usual Lute as she stared at you cornered by cannibals watching you' as If? They were waiting for something to happen.

Lute flew fast, which was hard given the state of her bleeding wing plus missing arm? It wasn't gonna be easy "YOU LET THEM GO YOU FUCKER" she screamed filled with rage and panic.

Please. Don't take them- not them

Tears mixed with her blood as she landed on the ground on her two feet, rushing forward to fight to save you before hands pushed her down those bloodied cannibals forming around the two of you like a ring.

PLEASE- DONT FUCKING TAKE THEM. Is all that's going through her mind. She lost Adam. She was too late but- not you' not her dove. Not her lover. Not her life

"UNHAND THEM -" she screamed out as panic setting in once more as she - too weak from blood loss - was pinned forced to watch as the cannibals above you began their meal. Tearing your once gorgeous white wings off that gold blood splattering everywhere

She couldn't hear anything besides your screens. God. Those begs of Freedom and someone else's screams - before she realized the one screaming was her as she screamed bloody murder. Screamed for you to be let go' to get a chance at life. You didn't deserve this. "TAKE ME. IM THE ONE YOU WHAT NOT THEM THEY DONT DESERVE THIS PLEASE -" How pathetic. Her once cold, strong, commanding voice now broken hoarse clear pain as she begged for your life

She couldn't help but scream even louder as they mauled you like some starved animals given a meal for the first time in weeks. As if I had never been fed before - screaming loudly, she didn't stop until she no longer could anymore.

Until she tasted the blood eyes closing, no longer able to look at your mangled body. How bone poked out chewed up like dogs eat their bones. Hiding her face into the dirt screaming muffled that sickening crunch of bones shattering

She doesn't remember what happened next. Doesn't remember grabbing your halo with Adam's clinging to then as someone dragged her away. Looking she sobbed, unlike how Adam had a body. There was none. Just a golden ground. They ate you. Every single piece. Clothing and all. The only way she knew you were there was for the halo they allowed her to grab. The blood on the floor, as the cannibal who watched her licked the blood

She's going to make them pay. Screaming in rage. She'll make them all pay. She'll kill every single one of those fucking demons. Those vile things. She'll avenge her boss- Adam. And more importantly, avenge you. Her one and only love

Staring at them all, she spoke for the final time full of venom. Hate. "I'll kill each and every one of you"

-

Later, as she sat on your shared bed, unable to look in your side of the bed, she let herself grieve alone. Sob for Adam. But here and now? She sobbed for her true love. The one who would COULD own her heart. Soul and all.

The last interaction she had with you made her sob harder. Why was she cruel? Why was she such a fucking bitch? She didn't deserve you. She couldn't protect you. Hell, she couldn't even show she loved you -

As she held the picture of the two of you, she choked sobbing out, "I didn't even say I love you-" The last thing she ever spoke to you, her lover? Wasn't a gentle thing, but rather her telling you to drop dead. "I'm so sorry, my dove -"

And you did.

And lute? Has to live with that. Forever.

[heartfullofleeches]

Look, I don't want to sound like a presumptuous person but I just read your OC Vendetta and Healer Darling.

Now please consider Healer Darling that will beat someone till they almost died but Darling went "Not so fast-", will revive/heal them again with the power of healer because in their mind the beating is not enough. Then this cycle will go on and on till the Darling is satisfied. Just- just a healer person who are not afraid to use it for bad...

[Yan Magical Boy + Healer Reader Blurb]

[Tw: Violence, implied attempted assault]

"On your feet."

Choked sobs spill from blacked and bruised lips. Blood dirties your colthing and the filthy alley streets - kissing your aching knuckles and some even splattering on your face from the spray. Your would be assailant clutches their right leg, glazing up at you with their good eye and silently pleading for mercy.

You almost laugh - saving all your energy for the fist you throw at their jaw.

"I said - get on your feet."

"I...I can't...I'm sorry.. My.. leg.. my leg I think it's broken. I can't put any weight on it. Please, please just let me go. I won't do anything like this again, I swear-"

"I know you won't."

You place a hand on their leg, nails sinking into the damaged flesh as they jerk in a feeble attempt at kicking you away. Radiance emanates from your palm - the discoloration of their flesh peeling away as it flares brighter. Your attacker can only watch on in horror as the feeling returns to their battered limb. You beckon them upward.

"Come on. Get up. No excuses now."

They stumble to their feet. Silence falls over the scene say for their labored breathes as they stand there, weighing their options. Clenched fists relaxed around their cracked. They already underestimated you once tonight. Your attack takes a step back to leave the opposite way they came-

Ending up right back where they were moments ago as your foot connects with their chest.

Some of your shots may be cheap, but you'd have to be a coward to hit someone while their back was turned - and tonight alone you've proved you're anything but.

"You didn't actually think we were done, did you?"

The wet crack of flying teeth bounces off the alley walls. A molar lands at the feet of the shadow hiding just beyond a collection of dumpsters outside of your range of sight and rage - followed by another soon after presumably from the same placement. He probably should've stepped in by now, but the only time he cared to was before you threw the first punch and knock your attacker off their feet.

Vendetta waits until you're fully invested in pummeling the poor fuck before reaching out and scooping up the collection of teeth to keep as a trophy. Maybe he'll make matching necklaces to surprise you with some day in the future. For now he had to focus on regaining the strength in his own limbs so he could get the hell out of here before you noticed him. Who needed porn when he got to witness something like this? He was dying to meet you in person, but approaching you in this state probably wasn't the best idea for a first encounter. He'd probably ask you to punch him too and climax on the spot.

"h....help....."

Vendetta looks up - lips curling into a cruel smile as his eyes meet with the source of the pathetic whimper. He presses his fingers to his lips, hushing your attacker as they're dragged away screaming. Vendetta clicks his tongue as he pockets the handful of teeth - heartbroken over the fact he can't join the fun just yet.

He'll just have to settle for the leftovers once you're done.

[donelywell]

SPAGONIA October 2

> Tornado Defense Act 1 

(Use the joystick to move the Tornado-1 to targeted spots on the Egg Cauldron where Tails is automatically firing, meanwhile use the Square or Circle button [ps3 version] to have Knuckles and Sonic knock away Missiles.)

As the trio fly overhead towards Spagonia, they’re suddenly ambushed by Eggman on his Egg Cauldron.

Once they reach Spagonia, they bolt over to the university. Tails opens the door to the Professor's room, and pauses at the scattered paper and books all across the floor. With a human male hiding behind a tipped over table. He pokes his head out and sighs of relief seeing Tails, the human turns out to be the Professor’s Assistant. 

The Assistant explains that the Professor has been kidnapped by Eggman a few days before the Earthquake. Sonic and Knuckles look pissed, while Tails and Chip are concerned. Tails is worried for the Professor’s safety (and wasting time getting to Spagonia just to find out he’s been kidnapped), while Chip is terrified that he’s starving to death. Tails reassures Chip that even Eggman isn’t cruel enough to not feed his prisoners.

The Assistant says that they can stay in a dorm room at the University for the night so they can fly out to save the Professor tomorrow morning, but Sonic (finally out of his raging ramble about Eggman) sighs and predicts that Eggman is about to move the Professor somewhere else. He ambushed them getting here, so he’s gotta know that they’re looking for him now. If they don’t find him by the end of tonight, they might never get him.

The 4 head outside of the University to ask the civilians if they might know where Eggman took the Professor. Sonic got distracted when he came across a candy shop, deciding to restock Tails’ constantly dwindling pile of mints. He also spots some Chocolate Bars, and buys a few to see if Chip would like them.

As predicted, the little fairy loved it.

Knuckles finds intel that someone heard a radio from one of Eggman's Badniks that he was going to Mazuri. So after everyone picked up a quick sandwich for dinner, they hopped onto the Tornado-1 to fly over to Mazuri.

MAZURI October 2-3

While flying out to Mazuri, Tails attempts to apologize to Sonic for wasting time, but Sonic simply wasn’t having it. Pointing out that this is Eggman’s fault, Tails didn’t know there was something Gaia related, and he didn’t know that the Professor got kidnapped. Tails thinks to himself that he’s the smart one, he’s supposed to know everything for the team, but just agrees to not upset Sonic anymore.

They had to make a quick landing just a town over to the very obvious base Eggman has built so that Sonic can change form without the fear of him accidentally falling off the plane.

Sonic nervously waits for Knuckles’ reaction, but he just asks if Sonic’s hurt. He signs ‘no’ and they continue on their journey on foot. Knuckles does have many questions, but they have a time sensitive mission at stake and questions can be put on hold until then.

>Mazuri Night Act 1

(Basically exactly how the original game went down, but Tails and Knuckles are there to help you fight now. Knuckles is a good hitter for the base enemies and grabs their attention away from Sonic while Tails does chip damage and hits arial enemies. There is plenty of dialogue in the level.) Through the dialogue, Sonic begins to slowly warm up to the idea of the werewolf form (they're still debating on what to call it) while Tails tries to lift his mood.

Once they make it to Professor Pickles prison, he starts a long monologue about how bad Eggman makes his Cucumber Sandwiches. Knuckles comments about how bland it sounds and the two quilled brothers talk about how they’d improve the sandwich while Tails flies over to help the Professor get out, muttering to Chip that it’s an acquired taste, but he does add that he throws a little bit of mint to his sandwich whenever the Professor doesn’t look.

After the Professor is saved, Knuckles ends up having to stop him from storming up to the Mad Doctor himself to say a few words about his culinary catastrophe.

Meanwhile, Sonic gets the map from the vault, knowing that if Eggman has anything locked away that it must be important.

Now that the Professor is saved and that they’re heading back to the University, Knuckles feels that he can finally ask the questions that have been plaguing his mind. Pretty much every single question is Dungeons and Dragons related, but a few are about how strong Sonic is now. In short, it was a long flight back to Spagonia for the speedster.

SPAGONIA October 3

Finally back at the University with the Professor and Gaia Manuscripts in hand, the group head over to Professor Pickles Office to get as much information from him as possible (and enjoy some tea).

The Professor tells of a repeated legend that has been going on since the planet was born. That there is an entity in the planet's core that has caused all of the monsters to show up and the planet splitting apart.

Tails is keeping note and asking questions such as ‘How do we put the planet back together?’ and ‘Do you think this could be connected to why Sonic changes into this form every night?’ 

The Professor then tells about the mythical ‘Temples of Gaia’ which used to house the Chaos Emeralds thousands of years ago. He points at a part of the scripture and says that it tells of a being that traveled to each Temple and restored the planet's pieces.

He claims that he has managed to translate and spot one of the Gaia locations, but still has yet to decipher the rest. The Professor then turns to a map on his wall and points at a pinned location. Tails and Sonic immediately realize that it’s ‘Mazuri’.

Before the duo could high-tail it back to the Tornado, they’re stopped by Knuckles and Chip at the door, demanding that they get some rest. Knuckles reminds everyone that the Assistant gave them all a dorm room to rest up in, and they have all deserved a rest after today.

So after they wash up (with Sonic promising he’ll do it in the morning when he knows he won’t clog up the drains), they all get comfortable on the bed and rest. It seems that the Assistant gave them a room fit for Mobian sized well… Mobians. So it became a tight fit with Sonic taking up extra space. He suggested that he could just sleep on the floor, but Knuckles immediately sits down next to him with Tails by his side. So no escape, huh.

With Sonic being slightly more comfortable with his nightly form (aka feeling like he might not immediately harm someone by accident), he’s a little more okay with Tails being closer. But he still makes sure to keep his mouth firmly shut and his hands far away from the others.

Angel Island

[dtrghost]

closeness and proximity part.3

pairing: ghost x f!reader

synopsis: callsign is sunshine, because you're anything but. team 141 thought ghost was bad? at least they could crack a smile out of the guy from time to time, you? you were stone faced, all day, every day. until one day you're not, not with a certain someone anyway.

warnings: inaccurate military language and sequences, angst, allusions to mental illness (reader has sociopathic tendencies) you get the gist. Finally some fluff and emotional stuff between them so yaaayyy.

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT:

word count: 2.6k

The drive back was quiet. Price drove back with Gaz and had Soap drive Ghost and Y/N. He sat in the backseat next to her, growing genuinely concerned for her mental wellbeing. The more she thought about it, about the sudden flood of emotions from a small moment in a dirty, humid bar, the more she remembered. The quicker she'd sent herself back into that room to relive those moments again, the ones she never told a soul about.

Simon had to pull her out once more in the duration of the car ride, talking with Soap and forcing her into the conversation to take her mind off of it by asking her weird, off topic questions that she answered. They got back to base and she attempted to split away from the group to her room, only to be yanked back with a serious look from her comrade.

They sat her down at the dinner table, and she suddenly felt small. She felt like she was being interrogated with the eyes of 4 staring at her intently, waiting for her to say something. Yet she didn't, she stayed quiet for 3 minutes, glancing around the room and sighing irritatedly.

"Well. Are you going to tell us or not." Ghost pressed, leaning forward in his chair next to her. She scoffed, chuckling out of anger, the sound running shivers up their spines.

"What the hell is this. You're not my fucking therapists, so quit trying to act like it." She spat, her eyes full of fire and rage.

"You listen here muppet. It's one thing for you to be angry and violent out on missions, but it's a whole other when you lash out at us." Her eyes narrowed at him, watching the flames of determination and vexation dancing, growing. She was lost in them for a moment, the others completely confused about the sudden moment they were sharing. Simon couldn't describe the urge to help her, to get her to open up to them.

Maybe he was just too curious, but what about the slip up in the bar?

love?

She had none, that he felt sure of. Sympathy maybe, a simple attempt to ground her, that's all it was.

He saw something as he read past her rage, it was small and fleeting, a light. A flicker of a candle, but this one wasn't out of anger, it was soft, gentle.

The phone rang, interrupting them as Price pulled out his phone.

"This is Price how copy?" He listened before his eyes landed on her, and just like that, the candlelight disappeared, blown out and left like it was a figment of his imagination. Now there was a void, a shell of human ready to serve and follow her orders. All of her anger dissipated as she rose from her seat. "Rog." He hung up and sighed, looking at her with a sorrowful look, one that she didn't register nor care for.

"You and Ghost have orders to be shipped out to a distribution hub in Amsterdam, you'll fly in a heli and drive the rest of the way. Your chopper will be here in 20 minutes."

"Affirm." She stormed out after that, pissed off by what had just occurred. She angrily threw her civilian mask off to the side and yanked on her work one, strapping on her vest and clipping her gear.

"This is Sunshine, Bravo 0-7 confirm channel." She spoke into her radio, adjusting her gear to her liking, making it tight and in hands reach.

"Bravo 0-7 confirmed." His voice echoed in her room, earning a sigh of irritation as she turned to look at him. He was geared up, making him look thicker than he already was with the extra padding. Instead of taking him she shoved past him, earning a 'tch' as he grabbed her arm, yanking her back to look at him.

"What the fuck is your problem?" She was angry at him. Not at the team, not at headquarters, at him. Why after all these years he suddenly cared. After all the missions they went on together, all the looks she didn't understand or the fleeting moments where she felt something more than anger or a void nothingness. He could see her confusion, making him sigh and put a hand on his hip as a hand lifted to try and sooth her down.

"I'm just trying to help-"

"I don't need your fucking help. So back off." He watched her stomp away.

"Bloody Americans." He muttered, falling into step with her. She remained silent the whole ride there, from when they landed, she was to carride. He watched her, watched as flickers of emotion passed through her gaze. 6 years of pent up feelings did something to people, he knew that better than anyone, and because of that he knew she was going to crack soon, and it was going to be his fault.

He would continue to push until one day she snapped, whether she'd cry or scream or throw a punch at him, he would be there, he had to be. He recalled the nights he'd spent with her in the last few years, where they barely talked but rather absorbed each other's presence as they cleaned their weapons or read through mission briefs. When they did talk it was meaningless, it served no benefit, no new information learned about each other, but it was comforting. He felt comfort in her coldness at the time, maybe because there was someone just as fucked up as he was.

She thought about it often too, the time they spent together on missions, how it ran smoother with him around. She didn't understand the sensations she'd get around him, the heat that burned in her chest, her face. How if she thought about him at night while he slept on the hard floor next to her, she'd press her legs together because of the heat that festered there too. She knew what desire was, she was aware of the need for pleasure, but she never indulged. What was the point if it were not with him? And in her mind she would never be with him, she wasn't good enough for that, she wasn't there, enough for something so intimate.

She knew that maybe she could live a more normal life if she had let him help her, but everything was so on and off. During the ride there she'd think, maybe she would let him help, that wouldn't be so bad. Then she'd snap out of it and be angry with herself for even allowing that thought to cross her mind. She watched a safe house appear from beyond the trees.

"We're stopping here for the night. Intel says the shipment doesn't come until tomorrow." Their driver informed them. They filed out of their cars and distributed themselves to their assigned rooms, and lo and behold, she was forced to share with Ghost. Simon watched her sigh deeply and nod, following her to their shared room.

"Go shower first." He commanded, and she obeyed without a word. She was too exhausted to fight with him. She'd spent the whole way there trying to figure out her shit before it began to affect her performance, and it killed her. She was far off the mark, easily irritated, snappy. She hoped it would wash off in the shower, and she took deep breaths while staring at herself in the mirror, hoping to turn it all off like she did before.

But she couldn't, she'd look and see anger, or a foreign feeling she didn't have a name for. Sadness? No, she had nothing to be sad about. So she huffed, exiting the bathroom to see Simon waiting patiently on his cot. She didn't spare him a glance and laid down on hers, staring up at the ceiling as he analyzed her for a moment, getting no reaction to his intense stare.

He left for his shower, and she listened to his clothes drop, letting her mind wander to what he looked like underneath them.

It was a better distraction than negativity, it made her feel something more enticing, until she was left sexually frustrated. She listened to him shower. The way the water would hit the floor in ripples, imagining how his skin shined and dripped, the coolness of the substance and how they hit his scars. Yeah, this was a better thought. She stayed there, in that moment, even after he walked out.

He snapped his fingers in front of her face, earning a glare from her.

"What're you thinkin' about now then?" He questioned, grunting as his big frame hit his bed. She didn't respond, and he didn't expect her to, likely because she was still mad at him.

"You in the shower." His head turned to her slowly, flabbergasted by what he was hearing. He listened to the melody of her voice as her shoulders shook. For the first time since they met, she laughed, truly. She found his reaction hilarious, how wide his eyes got in horror and... hope? She found that funny too, so funny she doubled over the side, cackling like a mad woman.

"Jesus fuckin' christ." Simon sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose for a moment before laughing himself. He couldn't help it, she just had one of those laughs that forced you to laugh too, the wheeze, the gasps for air as she hit her stomach and fell onto the floor.

"Sunshine, you're gonna die of a heart attack at this rate." He spoke to her, watching her wipe the tears forming in her eyes as she took a deep breath, sitting on her floor.

"I hate you, ya know." She confessed suddenly, surprising him as he looked at her curiously.

"You piss me off, you fucked me up. Don't understand anything anymore. Spent the whole day trying to put myself back together and it's just-" She mimicked an explosion, her hands dropping heavily onto her lap. He sat up, sitting down on the floor in front of her with his knee facing up to rest in his arm on.

"Well if you tell me about it, maybe I can put some things into perspective for you." He offered. He watched her mental battle, the conflict blazing through her skull. He could practically see them floating around her head like a thunderstorm.

"Oh fuckin' hell, just say it. You're thinking too much." She huffed, letting her head fall back as she stared at the ceiling for a moment.

"I can't. I can't explain it. After I got out, I didn't understand much of anything, they tried to wipe me, break me in a way others couldn't by making me forget myself and replace it with what they wanted. But I was rescued before that could happen. I was thrown back in before I could fully recover, because I had a skill set others didn't."

"Things came back in fragments, pieces of my past came back to me, and I realized that maybe it was better that I didn't remember. That if I stayed a shell I wouldn't have anymore emotion burdens than I already did. But it was too late, and it all came back to me one night in shambles. From birth to that moment, everything. I couldn't handle it, so I turned it off, I reverted back to this technique I learned while I was kidnapped, and from then I could never turn it back on." He knew what she was referring to.

Autopilot, where your mind went blank and your body operated on it's own. You couldn't feel anything, you just did what you had to.

"Then I met you. And at first that was fine. You were just another soldier that I had to work with, and then we talked that one night, and talked some more the next. And feelings began to surface on their own. I don't know what it is, excitement maybe? All I knew was that I wanted to talk to you, I looked forward to it, I got these weird feelings in my gut whenever I did."

Was she confessing to a crush... on him? She didn't care. What she did or did not confess to wasn't a concern. He asked and he was receiving.

"And then you started caring, out of nowhere. Years went by and suddenly a few days ago, after I skinned someone alive and you found out some rough shit happened to me, you changed. It made me angry, because I hate feeling, especially things I can't understand."

He noticed that too, that he cared more.

"New information can change your approach, and you have to adapt and improvise." He explained vaguely. He saw something reaching out in her, even through this dump of emotion and information, he noticed the cry for help deep inside her. The part she buried underneath years of mistreatment and being used.

"Stop talking to me like a soldier." She snapped, earning a soft gaze from him that she hadn't received before. It made her chest feel weird, and he could tell by how she grabbed at the shirt covering it.

"You're pissing me off."

"No, I'm breaking you." They made eye contact. All the breath left her lungs in that moment, from his gentle tone and low volume to the look in his eyes that made her eyes water, it was too much. She couldn't take it. Her stomach lurched, and before another word could be uttered between them she scurried to the bathroom, emptying the contents in her abdomen into the toilet.

He was by her side in an instant, shushing her quietly and rubbing her back. His heart sank at the feeling of her shiver and the sound of her retching.

"I gotcha Y/N. Always have right?" She could feel her mind cracking, tears welling in her eyes from the pressure of the vomit and being an emotional wreck.

"I can't." She muttered weakly, sitting against the shower door, grimacing as the air entering her lungs burned with the raw feeling in her throat.

"You can. In all my years being by your side, there's nothing you can't do love, you and I both know that more than anyone." Her eyes met his, seeing his seriousness and true belief in his words. His hand came up and brushed away her tears before her mask absorbed it, the rough pad of his thumbs leaving sparks in the areas he touched. She didn't say anything at first, taking his hand into hers and giving it a squeeze of reassurance, more for herself than for him.

"After our mission. Please." He couldn't say no to a plead like that, so with a curt nod he agreed and held out his other hand to her. He watched her hand envelope his, finding the size difference amusing as his basically swallowed them in his grasp.

"Let's get some sleep yeah. You've done enough for today." She let him bring her to bed, his arm secured around her shoulders, feeling her hand on his waist. He sat next to her until she fell asleep before laying on his own cot. He looked at her for most of the night, making sure she didn't wake up, pondering about what she could be dreaming about as her eyelids flickered ever so often.

He followed her steady breaths to lull him to sleep, praying that tomorrow would go by without too much of a struggle so he could have another moment as intimate as the previous with her, even if it was small.

And that's part 3!! Finally some fluff and opening up, but I wouldn't get too comfortable with it just yet. I have some plans, not sure how I'll execute it but we're getting somewhere. Thank you so much for reading!!

[hbyrde36]

NOW COMPLETE!!!

For my beloved @penny00dreadful 💜🖤

My fandom bestie, writing soulmate, and one of my absolute favorite people in the entire world.

Happy (early) Birthday 🌈👠💖

Huge thanks to @pearynice and @hitlikehammers for all your help in making this story come to life!

WC: 3483 | Ch 1/4 | AO3 <-

Chapter 1: Over the Rainbow

To be perfectly honest, Steve always felt a little unsafe riding around in the van with Eddie. It wasn’t that he was a bad driver, per se, but he was definitely a distracted one, constantly needing to be reminded to keep his eyes on the road instead of the tape deck. He also tended to treat speed limits as more of a suggestion than something enforceable by law.

Tonight was no exception, the feeling of unease even worse than usual because of the storm raging outside. They shouldn’t have even been on the road in these conditions, a fact Steve had tried in vain to convince Eddie of. Hawkins was under a tornado warning for fuck’s sake! But the other boy wouldn’t hear it, their errand was too important.

They had plenty of beer, but they needed snacks. 

According to Eddie there was absolutely no way they could enjoy Friday the 13th part 27, or whatever ridiculous number sequel it was that he wanted to watch, properly without the three basic food groups: Pringles, Twizzlers, and some form of chocolate.

They were having a movie night, just him and Eddie. It was no big deal, really. Steve wasn’t nervous about it at all. They’d been getting along fine since Vecna had been defeated, better than fine! They just… hadn’t spent a lot of one-on-one time together. 

Typically, at least Robin, and some-or-all of the kids, would join them on a night like this, but the kids were set on going to the arcade, and Robin—who’d finally gotten over her fear of driving and managed to get her license on the first try—was taking Vickie out for what may or may not be a date, and borrowing Steve’s car to do it.

Therein lay the source of the problem, actually. It was usually Robin’s job to procure movie night snacks, and in her absence neither of them had thought to pick up the slack.

Which is what had led them to this moment. 

Flying down the road at 15 miles per hour over the posted speed limit, minimum, in a fucking downpour, at night. They were just asking for a deer or some shit to come bounding across the road and then—BAM!

As if on cue, just as Steve had the thought, something did indeed dart out from the side of the road to cross in front of them. Fortunately, for once, Eddie was actually paying attention. He slammed on the brakes, simultaneously jerking the wheel, allowing them to narrowly miss hitting the poor wild animal. 

Unfortunately, that combination of evasive maneuvers caused them to spin out, and sent the van careening into a ditch on the side of the road. The vehicle flipped, and Steve had just enough time to think how glad he was that they’d both been wearing their seatbelts, before something from the rear came flying up to smack him hard in the back of the head. 

-

Steve came to slowly, blinking awake, wincing as the bright light of day attacked his retinas. 

Day?

But it’d been night, hadn’t it? It was dark, and it was raining, and…

The evening before came back to him in a sudden rush. The van sliding across the road, the sickening crunch of metal as it rolled, gravity doing what gravity does. He didn't remember anything after that, but it looked like somehow they’d managed to land upright in the end at least.

He rubbed at the nape of his neck, pleasantly surprised to find no lumps, bumps, or blood, nor did he feel the telltale nausea that sometimes came with a really bad blow to the head. He wondered if Eddie– 

Oh my god, Eddie!

Steve looked to the left, finding the driver's seat empty and was instantly gripped by panic. He scrambled out of the car, nearly falling on his ass in his hurry.

“Eddie?” He called out, fear churning in his gut. “Eddie?!”

He spun a circle, relief washing over him as he found the other boy only a few feet away. 

Eddie was sitting on a large tree trunk, rocking ever-so-slightly back and forth, gnawing on his fingernails as he stared at the backside of the van.

“There you are! Dude, you scared the shit out of–” Steve trailed off as he rushed to Eddie’s side to see what he was looking at, and swallowed hard. It was a pair of legs in striped stockings wearing a killer pair of red heels, sticking out from under the rear tires. The shoes glittered cheerfully in the sunlight. “Oh, fuck.”

Eddie dropped his head into his hands. “I thought I swerved in time. I thought we missed it.”

“I thought it was a deer.” Steve mumbled.

Eddie cut him an annoyed glare. “Clearly not, Harrington.”

“Hey,” Steve said softly. He knew Eddie well enough by now to tell when he was scared—when he felt guilty, even if he was trying to act otherwise. “This isn’t your fault. It was an accident.”

“Yeah,” Eddie huffed. “Tell that to the cops! They thought I was a murderer once already. It’s only been a few months where I can actually be seen in public without someone calling me a devil worshiper, or worse. Now they’ll think they have proof that I really am a killer!”

“You know Hop will go to bat for you again, and I’m here. I can be a witness.”

“That’s not all.” 

“It somehow gets worse than us accidentally killing some lady?”

Eddie sighed, raking a hand over his face as he rose from the stump. He turned, gesturing to something behind them, but Steve was still stuck on those legs. He couldn’t look away. 

“Why the hell was someone out in shoes like that in the middle of the night anyway?” Steve mused. “It was pouring.” 

“Steve, look.”

“What if we just said I was driving? Then we– “

“Steve!” Eddie gripped his upper arms, forcibly turning him around. 

Steve’s eyes went wide. They were standing right on the edge of a little town. Little, not only in the way that the town itself was small in, like, area, though it was that—about the size of one city block—but for the fact that all the colorful little buildings and bungalows were miniature. The whole thing was surrounded by gardens laden with all sorts of beautiful plants, shrubs, and trees, with flowers of every shade in bloom.

“What the fuck,” Steve breathed, taking a few tentative steps into the vivid village.

“Yeah.”

“Eddie, what the fuck?! Where are we? And why is everything in technicolor?”

Eddie stepped up from behind to clap him on the back. 

“I don’t think we’re in Hawkins anymore, big boy.”

Steve shot him a look over his shoulder. “What was your first clue?”

“I see where Dustin gets his tone from.” Eddie mumbled.

Steve chewed on his bottom lip. “Do you… do you think it’s like the Upside Down?” 

“In the sense that it’s another dimension? Maybe, but I don't get the feeling this one has any terrifying monsters. It’s too clean. It even smells nice, like roses and shit.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. Eddie had a point, nothing about this place screamed danger. “The Upside Down always smelled like mold and rotting flesh.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”

“What do we do? How do we get back?” Steve asked, not really expecting Eddie to have all the answers, but he did his best thinking out loud with company. 

“No idea.”

“Should we start walking? Maybe try and find a payphone?”

Eddie scoffed. “A payphone?”

“Do you have any better ideas?”

The other boy was quiet for a moment, a rare occurrence, but eventually threw his hands up in defeat. “No, actually. So, I guess walking it is.”

Steve turned back, intending on pilfering the van for things that might be useful, like water, weapons, or one of the many lighters that littered the floor, when something in the distance caught his eye.  

“What the hell is that?” He asked aloud, pointing up to the sky at a giant pink bubble that was headed straight for them. 

Eddie squinted up at it. “I think there's something inside.”

“Should we run?”

“Maybe we should pop it.”

“You just said there was something inside! Wouldn’t that let it out?”

Eddie shrugged.

In no time, the bubblegum colored sphere settled near them and faded away, leaving behind a woman with long dark wavy hair. She held a long scepter, and wore a tall crown and a poofy ball gown, of all things. There was also something very familiar about her face. 

“Wait.”

“No.”

“Is that?”

“It can’t be.”

“Joyce?!” They both said, in tandem.

The woman in the ballgown tilted her head. “Who’s Joyce?”

“You are.” Steve said. 

She shook her head, offering him a kind smile. “I’m afraid not. I’m Glinda, the Witch of the North, and who might you be?”

Eddie leaned in, speaking out of the corner of his mouth. “Is she serious?”

Steve snorted a laugh, quickly trying to hide it with a cough.

“What’s so funny?” Not-Joyce asked. 

“Nothing, uh, I’m Steve, and this is Eddie.”

She stepped carefully around them, pointing her sparkly stick at the half-a-dead-body that jutted out from under Eddie’s van. “What do you boys have to say for yourselves?”

“I’m sorry?” Eddie said, sobering quickly. At the same time Steve insisted, “It was an accident!”

“Stop giving them a hard time, Glinda. They did us a favor!” A strangely familiar voice called out from behind a nearby bush, and a moment later 6 small-ish figures came popping out of the surrounding foliage.

“They killed The Wicked Witch of the East!” The one with curly hair shouted, as the others cheered.

Eddie jumped. “Jesus H. Christ, where did all you little fuckers come from?!”

“Oh my god.” Steve muttered under his breath.

It was the kids, except they were actually kids. The 11-year-old versions of Dustin, Will, Lucas, Mike, Max, and El pushed and shoved their way past each other, all trying to be the first to approach.

“Who you calling little?” Baby-Lucas said.

“Okay, what the hell is going on here guys? Why are you so young, and what’s with the outfits?” Steve asked, completely dumbfounded.

Once he’d gotten over the initial shock of their appearance, Steve realized they were all wearing costumes or something. The girls wore pink frilly dresses and tall pointed bonnets, something he knew for a fact Max would never have agreed to, and the boys had these funny little shorts with long socks and matching tops—except for Dustin, who donned long pants and an even longer coat, along with a striped bow tie and a giant pocket watch hanging from his side. 

Eddie looked similarly stunned. “How did you get us here? And how did you get Joyce in on it?”

“Who’s Joyce?” Mini-Mike-Wheeler asked.

“I think they mean me.” Not-Joyce said.

Tiny Dustin’s face twisted up in confusion. “But that’s not your name.”

She shrugged. “I tried telling them that.”

Steve groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “Okay fine, she’s Glinda. Who are you?”

“Oh! I'm the mayor of Munchkinland.” A wide, gummy smile spread across tiny-Dustin’s face as he stuck his arm out, er, up, for a handshake. 

Steve stared down at him, unimpressed. “You’ve gotta be shitting me. I'm done playing whatever game this is. How do we–”

A sudden explosion went off in the middle of the town square only a few yards away, creating a thick cloud of red smoke. On instinct Steve and Eddie both moved to place themselves between the oncoming threat and the Munchkins. 

The air cleared quickly, revealing a woman in a long black dress and matching cloak, carrying a broom and wearing a hard scowl.

Steve blinked at her, then looked at Eddie for confirmation that they were seeing the same thing. 

“Mrs. Click?”

Eddie nodded.

Her complexion was all wrong but the resemblance was uncanny.

Steve leaned in, whispering, “If that’s Click, who do you think the one we hit was?” 

Eddie grinned. “O’Donnel.”

“I am the Wicked Witch of the West. You killed my sister. Prepare to die.” The newcomer declared loudly, sneering at the two of them.

Eddie rounded on her, pointing a finger right in her face. “Look lady, we’ve had just about enough–”

Steve grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him back. “What my friend here means to say is, it was an accident and we’re very sorry.”

“I’ll show you an accident, young man,” The Wicked Witch said, raising her green hands and long pointy nails threateningly in their direction.

“Aren't you forgetting something?” Glinda raised her voice, as she too moved to protect the little ones.

“The ruby slippers! Yes!” The Wicked Witch smiled gleefully and made a beeline for Eddie’s van. 

When her back was to them, Glinda winked at Steve and did some kind of wavy-woo with her stick, which, in hindsight he realized was a wand, and the red shoes disappeared from the dead body’s feet right before their eyes, reappearing in Steve’s hand a second later.

“They’re gone!” The Wicked Witch gasped, whirling on the spot and narrowing her eyes at him.

“Why is it always me?” Steve grumbled, resigned to the fight, only to find Eddie taking a protective step in front of him as she approached. 

“You! Give them back. I’m the only one who knows how to use them. They’re of no use to you!”

She wasn’t wrong, but Steve felt like maybe it wasn’t the best idea to give what he suspected was a powerful magical object to a woman whose sister they’d just murdered. All those months of spectating while the party played D&D were finally paying off. 

“Put them on and stay tight inside of them, Steve.” Glinda said, her tone grave. “Their magic must be very powerful, or she wouldn't want them so badly.”

Nailed it.

“You stay out of this, Glinda, or I'll fix you as well!”

The Good Witch waved her off. “You have no power here. Now be gone before someone drops a… a… a…” She stuttered, waffling as if searching for the right word.

“A van?” Eddie supplied.

“Ah, yes. Thank you, Eddie dear.” She cleared her throat, pausing for what Steve could only assume was dramatic effect. “Now, be gone before someone drops a van on you, too!”

“Very well, but I'll be watching.” The Wicked Witch hissed, zeroing in on Steve once again. “I’ll get you my pretty-boy, and your little dog too!”

“Hey! Who are you calling a dog? You looked in the mirror lately?! Witch.” Eddie spat. 

She huffed, raising her broomstick high above her head and bringing it down hard against the road at her feet, sending more red smoke billowing up from the spot to quickly engulf her form. When it was gone, so was she.

“Little dog. Pfft.” Eddie muttered.

“It’s the hair.” Little-Max said, matter-of-factly.

“Yes,” Tiny-Dustin agreed, nodding as he rubbed stubby fingers against his small chin. “The word scruffy does come to mind, to be fair.” 

“Watch it, Mayor.” Eddie warned.

“That, and the way you were guarding your friend there.” Little-Max spoke again.

Eddie glowered as she dissolved into giggles that quickly spread through the small crowd. Soon all the Munchkins, as well as Glinda, were clutching their sides with laughter.

Steve didn’t get what was so funny. 

“Don’t listen to them, Munson. I like your hair. It’s very… metal.” 

Eddie put on a show of rolling his eyes, but under it all was a shy pleased smile. “Thanks, Harrington.”

“That’s rough, boys. You’ve made quite the enemy. The sooner you get out of Oz the better I think.” Glinda said, when the laughter had finally faded. 

“And how do we do that exactly?” Eddie asked. “The van’s broken down, and even if it wasn't, I have no idea where the hell we are or how we even got here! Let alone how to get back to Hawkins.”

“The only person who might be able to help you would be The Great and Wonderful Wizard of Oz himself.”

Steve pursed his lips. “Okay, I'll bite. How do we find this Great Wizard?” It took all his strength not to put those last two words in air quotes.

“He lives in the Emerald city.” She said.

“And how do we get there?”

“Follow the yellow brick road, of course.”

Eddie shook his head. “Of course, she says.”

“Do you not have yellow brick roads where you come from?”

“No.” Steve snapped. He was already so tired of this shit, and somehow he knew that the end of, whatever this was, was nowhere in sight. 

“My, my, you two are grumpy.” Glinda muttered. Without another word she took a few steps away from them and waved her wand, conjuring a new pink bubble around herself. 

“Wait, you can’t just leave us here with these kids!” Steve shouted, but it was too late, The Good Witch had already started to float away. 

“We’re not kids, y’know.” Tiny-Dustin said.

“You look like kids.”

“Whatever.” The boy shrugged, taking one of their hands in each of his. “Come on, we’ll walk you to the edge of town.”

-

The edge of town turned out to be roughly 10 feet away from where the van had landed, which wasn’t a surprise given the compact nature of Munchkinland as a whole, but it did have Steve wondering why they even bothered. 

At least the kids—sorry, the Munchkins, had been helpful enough to point out the yellow brick road. 

As if they could have missed it.

Eddie let out a long whistle. “Wow, that is YELL-ow. Like, I know they said it, but I guess I expected it to be dull or dirty or something, not this bright sunshine color. Kinda reminds me of that sweater you used to wear.”

Steve tucked the pair of heels awkwardly under his arm and started down the path, wishing he had a bag or something to put them in. Holding onto them like this was going to get annoying fast. 

“Aren't you going to put those on first?” Eddie asked.

“Are you serious, Munson?” Steve slowed his pace, turning to gape at him.

Eddie grinned, bumping their elbows together when he caught up. “What, afraid you can’t walk in ‘em?”

“I wear a size 13 men’s shoe, they’re never gonna fit me!”

For a fraction of a second Eddie’s eyes went as wide as saucers. “Jesus, guess I was onto something with that nickname, big boy.”

Steve rolled his eyes, shoving the shoes in Eddie’s direction. “Why don’t you put them on?”

“No, that Glinda lady gave them to you, expressly.”

“I'm telling you they’re not gonna fit.”

“Magic shoes, Steve.” Eddie wiggled his fingers for emphasis. “Magic shoes! Just try, I'm sure it’ll be fine.”

Steve glared as he toed his sneakers off, tying the laces together before throwing them over Eddie’s shoulder, and finally slipped his feet into the sequin adorned pumps. 

They fit like a glove.

He twisted at the waist, glancing behind his own back, sticking first one leg out, and then the other, as he looked down at himself. “Hmm, they do make my ass look nice, I guess.” 

He also just so happened to be wearing his date night jeans, the ones that hugged him in all the right places, and with the addition of the shoes? It was a good look, if he did say so himself. 

A high pitched noise escaped Eddie’s throat. “As if you needed any more help in that department.” He mumbled under his breath.

Steve swallowed hard. “What’d you say?”

“Nothing.”

Eddie was always doing that—flirting, making little comments and then pretending he hadn’t. It drove Steve crazy, never sure if Eddie actually meant it, or if he just liked to tease—not quite sure which answer he hoped was the truth.

Steve turned on his heel, literally, and strode away, tired of wasting time. His first few steps were a bit wobbly, a little like a newborn calf learning to walk, but he got the hang of it pretty quickly. He wasn’t, like, swaying his hips side-to-side confident or anything—yet—but he was reasonably sure he wasn’t going to randomly fall over. It was good enough for now. 

“What are we looking for again?” He asked without turning around. 

“The Emerald city.” Eddie replied, falling into step beside him again, cheeks a little pink. “The little guy who looked like Will said we’d know it when we saw it.”

“Nicely vague, figures.” 

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it. They seem to take everything very literally around here, so my guess is if we see a place with a lot of big bright green buildings, that’ll be the one.”

Chapter 2

[aries-rp-corner]

The time has come…night has finally come. Aries was at the front lines as she looked up to the sky…watching the Moon slowly turning red by the second. She can feel a heavy pressure forming in the air, until the Moon was now devoured in red. Looking out to the sea as it reflected the red color of the moon, it looked like someone stained the ocean in pure blood… The heavy pressure returned as a screech broke the silence as something swift grabbed a grunt, Aries in a quick response threw one of her Sickles to the figure. Making it cry out in pain as she now sees the grunt fall back on deck, confused and terrified from what the poor soul had experienced ... but the poor man felt like he'd been stabbed…and stabbed he was as he looked over to see the puncture wounds began to leak out blood and something else… Aries knew what that was as she ordered the others who were holding the antidote to quickly help their fellow grunt.

Aries meanwhile, looked around to find the “Pokémon” that landed the first attack, seeing a shadow swiftly flying by. Until feeling a strong breeze behind her, looking up to see a different type of Wyvern Pokémon. Landing down as dark energy gathered around the Wyvern until it shrunk in size to see a silhouette of a man. Finally it was revealed to be Durai, glaring down at Aries as she felt something sharp smacking her in the face.

“You had the nerve to cut my Wife, not once, but twice you stupid fox. Now, where is that leader of yours? I hope he made the right choice to spare the lives of his…“men”…from a bloodbath.” Durai spoke heavy with anger, along with curiosity of what Ghetsis chose his answer… The sound of speakers echoed all around the ship. “Ghetsis.~ I hope you made the right choice to give me Kyurem and now for that bastard of your son to give me both of the dragons. Now…I know you are in no condition to fight, so what answer did you choose?” Durai waited to hear the Lord of Plasma, until hearing dark chuckle from the PA.

“I am not giving up Kyurem without a fight. Fight us if you dare, but we will not bow to anyone to the likes of you!!” Ghetsis roared out, Durai gave a look of annoyance from the answer. Standing tall as he examined the grunts, Aries, and the Plasma Frigate. Until finally glaring down at the souls in front of him. “If you want them so bad, fight me for them! Even if I fall, I will not give them up!!”

“You all made your grave. Cipher! Show no mercy!! Leave no living soul alive!!” Durai roared out as he snapped his clawed fingers. Instantly, the Peons quickly climbed on board through the ocean and some in the air landing down as Cipher attack with full force. Aries staggered back up, holding her mouth as she tasted blood and her hand confirmed it, yet thanks to that Durai is now looming over Aries with a look that’s full of rage and annoyance…but fear as well? “If your family didn’t help Nasrin in the past, you wouldn’t be here. I don’t know how you survived my wife’s attack but I WILL make sure you stay dead!” He opened his claws in an attempt to slash her, but the only thing he felt with ripping what remained of her scarf and a Moon Sickle cutting his cheek.

“My family has been doing this ever since she found us, it was our kindness and urge to protect others is what led us here now! I’m not sure she saw my family’s future, but she knew how to pick ‘em!” Aries then grabbed her knife as she placed it between her jaws and whipped back her Sickle. “And she is making sure you fall tonight.” Durai looked very confused until he looked up to the sky. Seeing a yellow star and clouds forming in a shape of a fox consuming the moon. Even as rain descend from the sky, making Durai feel a familiar chill running through his body as he sees the woman’s eyes glowing piercing gold-yellow. All he saw was a ghost from his past returning one finally time to make sure he stays buried. “You wanted to fight, now stand and fight! If you want Kyurem, Zekrom, and Reshiram you’ll have to pry them out from ALL of our cold dead hands!”

“So be it….If you think you’re a hero, then die like one!” Durai roared with fury as he reformed back into a Wyvern like beast, delivering his roar across the entire Frigate. He and his Organization will not falter.

[starogeorgina]

Killer queen

Warnings: Incest, sexual content

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen × Targaryen OC

1.02

The north was far better than you imagined; the feeling when your feet sank into the snow for the first time made you feel ecstatic; and although not all the Northerners liked the Targaryens, they were fascinated by your dragons, and most were welcoming, although you suspected many acted that way out of fear.

As it was an unpolitical visit, you rode on horses to Winterfell to get a glimpse of the castle you’d heard so much about; it was just as you imagined. The outer wall was at least eighty feet high and surrounded by a large moat. Growing up in the red keep made you appreciate the beauty of the castle complex being covered in snow.

During the days, you and Aemond wore cloaks to visit bars and various other locations on horseback to try and blend in without being spotted while Aelora, your emerald giant, and Vhagar flew freely without disturbance.

The nights were different; Aemond took you whenever and wherever he could with his mouth and fingers. With your back pressed against a tree, he’d ignore the sting of the cold nipping at his knees as he kneeled on the ground in front of you, worshiping you with his mouth. Or toy with you by rubbing his hard on against you in a public place, causing you to become hot and flustered.

Aemond insisted it was impractical to have sex knowing there wasn’t a way for you to get moon tea while staying in the north.

“I don’t think Aelora likes the cold,” you state, watching as the dragon you bonded with curls herself into a ball on top of a small hill. Aelora was known for her gorgeous emerald green scales that glimmered under the sunlight. She didn’t hatch until your fourth name day and was the smallest out of all the Targaryen dragons, but she was fiercely loyal to you; she even hissed at Aegon the one time he accidentally pushed you to the ground while drunk.

“Perhaps she misses the heat of the king's landing.”

Rhaenyra and Daemon's feast should have ended a week prior; you hoped they would have returned to Dragonstone by the time you returned. “Maybe we should wait a couple more days before leaving.”

“Two more days, then where are we going?”

You feel yourself melt under Aemond’s gaze; the looks he gives you are always so full of love and admiration, even when he’s in a bad mood. You rest your head against his chest and say, “We can go wherever you want. It's up to you if we fly back to King's Landing or follow your heart’s desire to Dorne.”

Aemond didn’t answer. He kissed the crown of your head, keeping his attention on the two sleeping dragons in front of him.

—

Sitting in a chair by the fireplace Aemond watches as a pretty bastard called Iris Snow kisses your collarbone while straddling you. The idea of another man even looking at you with lust in his eyes was enough to drive Aemond into a jealous rage, but a woman... When you first said you were attractive to other females, he was happy for you to experiment, as long as he got to watch and occasionally join in.

When you first laid eyes on Iris two days prior, Aemond saw the devilish glint in your eyes and knew what you wanted. The brunette made it obvious that she was intrigued by you both, but only you got to play with her.

One of Almond's favorite sights was your legs spread wide open, giving him or whatever maiden you chose for the night access to your most sensitive area. Goosebumps spread across your body as the front of your low-cut dress is pulled down. Immediately, Iris attaches her lips to your breasts, sucking on them. You make eye contact with Aemond and say, “Not getting enough attention, my love?”

He doesn't take the bait and says nothing.

You let out a small moan as her teeth nipped at your skin. You look over again, expecting to see Aemond’s lilac eye clouded with lust, but it wasn’t; his whole demeanor was overshadowed by a stillness. You pull back and kiss Iris one last time, then whisper that you are sorry but she needs to leave. She looks disappointed but goes without argument.

When she’s out of the room, you walk over to Aemond and sit on his lap, your head resting against his chest. “What is wrong ñuha jorrāelagon?”

He doesn’t answer. You feel his arm tighten around your waist, his breath tickling the back of your neck, and his hand resting on your thigh. Something was gnawing at him; it had been since before you left home. That was two weeks ago. Every time you asked him previously, he just said he was distracted, but you weren’t going to let it go this time.

“Aemond,” you cup his chin, forcing him to look at you. “You’ve been dis-” You cut yourself off, scared you’d sound desperate and pathetic, but the truth was you were. Aemond has always clung to you; he’s never withheld a part of himself. The thought of losing him terrified you, “whatever it is, just tell me.”

He kisses the back of your hand and says, “My love, I’ve been holding back because I didn’t want to ruin your fun. Before we left, Mother informed me that my grandsire had started to look at possible suitors for your hand in marriage.”

You don't dare move. That knotting in your gut reminds you of the feeling you had when it was announced Aegon was to be wed to one of his sisters, and for a split second you thought it was you and not Helaena, and the feeling of your world crashing around you reappeared. Finally, you find your voice again. “I will have no other.”

“It is known in the realm that any man who asks for your hand in marriage will face the wrath of Vhagar,” Aemond kisses your cheek. “Although we should expect a battle when we return, convincing our mother we should be married won’t be easy.”

“We don’t need their permission,” you spin around on his lap so you're now facing him, your lips ghosting his. “We should just get married, here in the snow.”

He gives you a warning look and says, “Ashara.”

You lean into Aemond, capturing his lips with your own. “Nobody would ever come between us. No suitors. No men courting me. No women staring at you. I will be able to stop drinking that horrid tea and swell with your seed.”

A look you’d never seen before flashes across Aemond’s face; he looked like a wild animal about to pounce on its prey. He grabs you, but the hips pull you in closer, “Tomorrow night, we will become husband and wife.”

Grinning, you wrap your arms around his neck. “In that case, I want you to fuck me like a whore one last time before making me yours forever.”

—

“Can I ask you something?”

Aemond raised his brows, sighing. He wasn’t one for talking after making love, but he nodded regardless, “Anything, my love.”

Caressing his face, you gently brush hair out of his face, your thumb gently stroking over his scar. “When did you know I was yours?”

“You’ve been mine for as long as I can remember.”

You lick at your dry lips staring up at the ceiling, “the night you lost your eye….I knew I’d never leave you again. I've always regretted leaving you to drink with Aegon, things could have turned out so different if I’d stayed by your side.”

“I would never have approached Vhagar with you by my side.”

“You never would have lost an eye.”

Aemond sat up right, looking at you with a stern look on his face. “I told mother it was a fair trade because I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon but that’s not all I gained that night. Watching you cling to Helaena, crying, with a murderous glare in your eyes, I finally realized I was yours just as much as you were mine, even if I was too young to know what that meant.”

“Avy jorrāelan.”

“I love you too, my sweet Ashara.”

Avy jorrāelan - I love you

ñuha jorrāelagon - my dear

[iisasarcasticlittleshite]

An Innocent Mistake 4

The winner of the poll was "MC snaps at a demon who teases Luke too much", so here we have part 4!

Next part will be "Fall asleep on Lucifer's paperwork" which came second in the poll.

Should I make another poll so you guys can pick out your favourites?

"You do love getting yourself in trouble like this, don't you, MC?" Simeon simpered, stumbling across the dragon occupying the human's usual seat in Devildom History class.

They had managed to open their textbook and were currently trying to figure out how to hold a quill with their tail, ink smudged on the corner of their mouth.

"Woah! So Solomon wasn't kidding!" Luke exclaimed, delighted at the adorableness of the little dragon that's now his desk mate. "You look so cute like this!"

MC chirped, stretching out their wings with a friendly swish of the tail. It was hard to express themselves without talking, but everyone seems to have gotten the idea so far.

"Lucifer asked if we could look after you today, since Mammon got himself detention again." Said Simeon. "That's alright with you, I hope?"

MC nodded, purring gratefully as Luke took the quill and dipped it for them, allowing them to write what needed writing.

The younger angel continued to help them get their notes under control through class, and come lunch time, MC made themselves at home on Luke's shoulders.

"I have to go and find Solomon before he gets any ideas about actually making dinner tonight. Will you two be okay on your own?" Simeon's smile didn't faulter as he spoke, despite his slight concern.

He thought he'd given up on worrying about MC, the human version is as dangerous as any demon as far as he's concerned, but in this form, he's not so sure.

"We're not kids you know?" Luke pouted, his cheeks flushed with happiness, probably giddy for having MC on his shoulder so happily. "We'll be in the cafeteria. Come on MC, better hurry before Beel eats everything."

The dragon yipped, ruffling their wings to settle them more comfortably against their back.

Luke started for the cafeteria, his shorter legs made his gait harder to balance on, but MC managed, curling their tail in his clothes to keep themselves steady, just in case.

"Oh! I brought something for Beel to try today, forgot it in the classroom. Do you mind if we go back?"

MC chirped, spreading their wings to fly in front of him, hoping he'd get their meaning.

The angel frowned, but then his eyes lit up. "Hey! You can fly really well. You want to go get it for me?"

The dragon nodded, hovering in place was getting easier after all the practise they got in the demon lord's castle.

"Okay! I'll wait here, there's a yellow bag next to my books, I think I left it on my desk."

With a cheerful cry, the dragon swept forward, weaving between demons seamlessly back to the classroom.

It couldn't have taken them more than five minutes, but apparently that's all it takes for a Wrath demon to get a bad idea.

MC had the small bag of cookies trapped between their teeth, balancing carefully back toward where they left Luke, when they heard the angel yell out.

"Leave me ALONE, foul demon!"

Oh no.

MC beat their wings harder, gaining height until they saw the massive, gangly demon looming over Luke, their smile twisted and mocking.

"What's the matter, little angel? Don't like being alone?"

Luke's cheeks are flushed, with rage or fear, they can't tell, and his hands are up and at his sides as if he could wilfully push the demon away. "I'm waiting for someone, you better leave me alone or you'll be sorry!"

"Waiting for who? The little human that's turned into the tiny lizard? I could eat that for breakfast, pact or no pact."

Luke huffed, ready to start yelling, when suddenly...

A growl to rival Beel's stomach, snapped the demon's attention elsewhere, just in time for a blur of scales and colour to smack him in the face, a mess of teeth and claws and angry roars.

The bag of cookies landed squarely in Luke's hands, unharmed, as MC tore into the demon's face until Luke almost felt sorry for him. They didn't back off until the demon fell over, scooting away on his backside, away from the furious dragon now poised to strike on the floor, tail swishing from side to side, hackles raised to show off blood-stained razor sharp teeth.

The demon bolted, almost bumping into Belphie who came hurriedly around the corner, having heard the noise. Everyone else had swiftly cleared out.

"Luke! MC..? What the-?!"

"Wah! MC saved meeee!"

MC's posture eased, purring sweetly at the angel as they cast a spell to clean themselves off.

Luke dropped to his knees and immediately scooped them up into his arms, squeezing them tightly to his chest.

"You're the best! The best friend ever!"

Belphie scatched his cheek, silently slipping his DDD out of his pocket to snap a picture and send it to Simeon. They'd deal with the pesky demon later, or rather, Lucifer would. For now he gets to enjoy the cuteness fest that is a tiny dragon purring in the angel's lap.

What no one would notice until they compared pictures, was that this tiny dragon...had gotten bigger.

Part 5

@rustybucketofghosts (since you asked so nicely :)

[fxlling13]

Because Of You

Part 2.

Dh!Master x fem reader

Part 1

Synopsis: you finally get away from the doctor.

Warning: bad language. Blood. Pain

(A/N: so I decided to write part 2 haha. And in a different pov. Just ahead of this weekend obviously)

After another harrowing adventure, it was safe to say you were exhausted. And now the master was banned from tagging along. Apparently he’d become dangerous again. In reality, you knew the doctor was still bitter over your bond. Plus, it gave him alone time to plot an escape. He knew where his tardis was, it was just getting there. Before you had chance to find him, the doc stopped you and announced she had somewhere else to take the two of you. Yaz was thrilled, smiling as the blonde began to ramble.

“I’m tired.” You spoke softly, hoping for some understanding. At that moment, all you wanted was your bed. After spending the past five hours constantly running, that’s exactly what you needed. That and a bath. Instead, the doctor rolled her eyes and scoffed.

“I’m not stupid (y/n). I know that you’re just going to find the master.” You sighed tiredly, rubbing your eyes. Not having the energy to argue, you just shrugged.

“I wasn’t but never mind. Let’s go.”

Oh how you wished you could have stood up for yourself more. As you were hiding behind a large stack of crates, your heart was pounding and your ears ringing. The doctor and yaz were nowhere in sight. They had fled without a second thought. So here you were, listening as heavy footsteps grew louder and you knew you had to get out. Pulling yourself up, you dashed for the door and found a padlock. Great.

“Human life sign detected.” A robotic voice echoed around the metallic room and your blood ran cold. Having no other choice, you smashed the lock with your fists and ran through the door. Sadly, there were armed guards ready which meant your legs carried on. On the other hand, their weapons were knives so easier to evade. Saying that, one managed to snag your shoulder as you rounded a sharp corner. Quite literally. Seeing the tardis, you threw yourself inside with urgency and slammed the door.

“There you are!” Yaz yelled, but not with relief. Turning round, you gaped for air as your lungs were burning.

“The hell did you go! We’ve been waiting here like idiots. Couldn’t you keep up?” The doctor was almost screaming, storming over to you with purpose. Now confused, you rested against the wooden doors to steady yourself.

“We had the right to just fly off and leave you there!”

“Then why didn’t you? It’s not my fault, you abandoned me. I told you I was tired.” You spoke through heavy breathing, adrenaline wearing off. Once again, the doctor rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“You love to make excuses up huh? I hate liars.” Everything caught up to you, your anger becoming too much. Harshly, you shoved the blonde back.

“You think I’m lying? Look at me!” Yaz was quick to go to the doctor, holding her close.

“I’m covered in blood! Because you left me alone with a set of killer robots!” You shouted in a fit of rage. And you were right. Your hand was balled up, each knuckle wounded. Your shoulder had a large gash to go with this, the pain becoming more apparent each second. Huffing, you pushed past them weakly and began to walk up the stairs before stopping. Turning back to the two women, you pressed your lips together before speaking.

“He would never let me get hurt.” Your words hit the doctor hard and Yaz had to keep her restrained as you left. Once around the corner and down the corridor, your lip began to tremble and your body grew weaker. Suddenly, you felt hands land on your shoulders and gazed up only to instantly relax. The master peered down at you with worry. You succumbed to your needs and fell into his chest with ease. Your body wracked with sobs and the man holding you tightened his grip.

“Hey hey. It’s okay sweets.” Hooking his hands under your arms, he picked you up effortlessly. Your legs wrapped around his waist and you clung on weakly.

“I’ve got you now.” The masters voice was low and gentle, his hand running along your back. You faintly heard him mutter ‘hold on’ before your head began to spin. More than it already was. Everything was hazy, falling in and out of consciousness. You barely registered what your body was feeling. But you could make out the press of the masters lips to your temple. Then everything went black.

The doctor stood in the console room, messing around with the controls. She could feel eyes boring into the back of her head and sighed.

“What do you want?” She sounded bored, turning to face the master. He strolled over, jacket long gone and hands tucked into his pockets.

“You haven’t noticed.” Was all he said, standing right in front of her. The doctor furrowed her brows, casting her eyes around.

“What?” He just chuckled at her not knowing and aimlessly walked around the console.

“You and (y/n) had a pretty heated fight I see.”

“Only because you have corrupted her.” Scoffing, the male leant against a pillar and tilted his head.

“No I haven’t. And you know I haven’t. That’s what’s driving you mad.” He slowly took a step towards the blonde with a smile on his lips.

“You can’t stand that she chose me over you.” He chuckled, running his tongue along his teeth. Pulling his hand out, he twirled it round in the air with expression.

“And to make things worse for your overworked brain, it kills you that she loves me. Doesn’t it?” The doctors nostrils flared with rage, nails digging into her palm as the master continued on.

“And I love her. The one human you can’t have. Because she’s mine.” He finished, smiling smugly.

The Doctor went to slap him but he grabbed her wrist with force. They stared each other down, him finding intense joy at her upset. Laughing, the master moved away and head up the steps.

“What is it then? What haven’t I noticed?” The doctor spat, halting the man. Smirking, he turned and looked at her with pity.

“We’ve been gone three days.” He whispered patronisingly, waving at her before pulling out his TCE and disappearing. Leaving the doctor to wallow in her own feelings.

When you awoke, you found yourself in a room you didn’t recognise. What you did know, was you were lying in the most comfortable bed you had ever been in. Purple silk sheets surrounded your body, your head resting on two perfectly fluffed pillows. Gazing around the room, you saw how nicely it was decorated. In front of the newly found four poster bed, was a cracking fire. A beautiful grey tiled mantelpiece encased it with intricate galifreyan carvings. The wall to your left was lined with dark book shelves with the most luxurious books imaginable. There was also a desk slotted between. Slowly, you sat up and looked down at your hands. They were neatly wrapped up, as was your shoulder. Then you realised you were wearing only your bra and a pair of very loose pyjama pants.

“You’re finally awake.” The masters voice greeted you warmly, the door clicking shut behind him. Coming to your side, he perched on the edge of the bed.

“Where am I?” You asked, voice horse. Smiling, he placed his hand in yours and you relaxed immediately.

“On my tardis. In my room to be more specific.” He told you, happy to see the relief on your face.

“You got us out?”

“Of course I did, love. I couldn’t let her treat you like that any more.” Gently, he reached up and stroked your cheek, thumbing the skin with care. His eyes raked over your figure, fingers tracing the bandages.

“I hope you don’t mind your attire. I wanted to make sure I could clean everything.” Blushing, you shivered under his touch but shook your head.

“I don’t mind. How long was I out?”

“Three days, I put your mind in a deep state of rest.” The master moved closer, almost caging you against the pillows. But you didn’t complain, instead you felt comfort. He rested his hand by your waist, your own hand came to hold his arm securely. Almost hugging it.

“I went back to the doctor. Gave it to her straight. I should have hurt her but, I couldn’t leave you for that long.” Smiling at his words, you rested your head on his shoulder and sighed.

“How about my room? Do you like it? It’s much better than the doctor’s tardis right?” You almost giggled at his need of approval.

“I love it. It’s a lot nicer so far. Plus your bed is so comfy.” Leaning back against the pillows, the master helped you to sit straight and get comfortable. Inching closer, the man was still facing you but practically sat on the bed beside you. His hand landed on your clothed thigh, smoothing over the fabric tentatively.

“She hadn’t noticed, by the way. We’ve been gone for three whole days. And the doctor didn’t notice a thing.” He laughed, simpering as he lined the pattern on your pants with his finger.

“Why would she? I’m not important. You on the other hand-“

“Don’t say that ever again.” He spoke sternly, eyes looking straight into your own. Frowning, you cast your gaze down to his hand on your thigh.

“But I’m not important to her. And I don’t care.”

“Well you’re important to me. And I’ll destroy whole galaxies to prove that.” Your heart sped up, swallowing thickly and hoping he couldn’t tell how flustered he was making you.

“Really?” You questioned, causing him to hum in confirmation. Sucking in a breath, the master trailed his hand along your inner thigh and up to your waist.

“Yes. I will burn heaven and earth for you.” His eyes flicked down to your lips briefly, the blush on your face spreading to your ears. You looked up at him shyly, lashes fluttering.

“Stop looking at me like that, (y/n).” The master groaned, leaving you confused.

“Why?” Smirking a little, he cupped your jaw with intention. Without saying another word, he leant forward and pressed his lips to yours. Heat filled your body. You kissed back instantly, ignoring the initial shock. Your arms wrapped around his neck to tug him in closer, the male practically hovering over you by then. He pulled back with caution, smiling down at you.

“That’s why.” Gleefully, you rolled over, successfully pinning him beneath you. The master grinned, holding your waist. He looked proud at your tactical move.

“Hah. Got you.” You giggled playfully, resting your elbow down to get closer to him.

“Only you can get away with man handling me, dear.”

Delicately, he traced along your face before trailing down and leaving his hand to cup the side of your neck. Placing your own free hand on his chest, you sighed.

“How do we get back at the doctor? You must have a trick up your sleeve?” You wondered out loud, hearing him cackle slightly.

“Oh of course I do. And with you by my side? It’ll be easier than ever to get her exactly where she deserves to be.”

[dearanakin]

embers of affection - part 3

Summary: Anakin has to deal with so many emotions. This time, he tries to ask you to go on a mission with him after a while, but it doesn't go as expected.

Warning: Mentions of injury, fluff, slight kiss. (Note: I know these images aren't Anakin exactly but it fits this chapter!! This isn't the last chapter btw)

Word count: 2.2k

previous chapter

Anakin has been struggling to make amends and reconnect with you since that last fight. You’ve been bumping into each other a lot more lately, greeting each other whenever it’s possible.

It had been a while since you had fought alongside each other in a battle, and he knew he needed to make things right.

One day, he found you in the courtyard of the Jedi Temple, lost in thought as you observed the serene landscape. Your focus on the sight got interrupted by the sound of his footsteps approaching. As he reached your side, he hesitated for a moment before he spoke.

"Lovey, there's something I need to talk to you about" Anakin began, his voice filled with sincerity and a hint of desperation. You turned to face him, your eyes searching his for answers. 

You had noticed the change in him, the weight of his past actions taking his good side.

Before choosing his words carefully, he took a deep breath. “know I made a terrible mistake on Mortis, and I understand that it may be hard to fight by my side again. But I want to make amends, to show you that I'm committed to being better than I can be.”

Even though you were still in your forgiving phase, you could see the torment in his eyes, understanding the depth of his regret. Slowly, you nodded. He placed his large hand above yours before taking another deep breath. 

“Y/N, I'm asking you to go on a mission with me. It's been too long since we fought side by side, and I need your guidance, and your presence. I can't make things right without your help.” For a moment, you hesitated. 

You were torn between your desire to support him and your concern about his reactions towards you during a battle. “Alright, Ani. I'll go on this mission with you. But remember, we're in this together, and I won’t tolerate another bad behavior."

You watched as his eyes filled with gratitude while he nodded. He felt his body become lighter after your response. The Jedi smile widened when he squeezed your hand, and you followed his gesture. 

You were on a perilous mission to confront a group of dangerous Sith, and the battle was fierce. Anakin and you had been holding your own, your lightsabers dancing through the air, deflecting blaster bolts. But the odds were against you, and the Sith were relentless.

In a moment of distraction, you were caught off guard. One of the Siths landed a powerful blow, sending you flying across the battlefield. You crashed into a pile of rubble, your body battered and bruised, and you felt your lightsaber being knocked out of your hand.

Engaged in his intense battle, Anakin saw it unfold in a heartbeat. He felt a surge of panic and desperation, unlike anything he had ever experienced before. Without a second thought, he rushed towards you, feeling his heart pounding in his chest.

He fought with a ferocity he had never known, his rage and fear moving him forward. Blaster bolts buzzed by him, but he didn’t care about getting himself hurt. All that mattered was reaching you.

As he reached your side, he dropped to his knees, cradling your battered form in his arms. Your breathing was shallow, and your eyes reflected your pain. Anakin's hands trembled as he desperately tried to reach your injuries.

"Lovey," he whispered, his voice choking with emotion. "Hang on. You're going to be okay."

But you could only manage a weak, pained smile. "Anakin," you voice almost faltered. "Take care of the mission. Protect the Republic."

Anakin's eyes filled with tears as he realized the gravity of the situation. He had always cared deeply for you, but in this moment, he couldn't deny the depth of his feelings. 

It was as if a barrier had burst inside him, and he was flooded with a love he had never fully acknowledged.

"No" he said, his voice trembling. "Shit. I can't lose you, Lovey. Not like this."

Your eyes widened in surprise, and a faint blush colored your cheeks. "Anakin..."

But before you could say more, a group of Sith attacked you, and Anakin was forced to fight to protect you. He fought with a ferocity born of love and desperation, but the battle was far from over.

Amid the chaos, he couldn't help but think about the words he had spoken. He had finally admitted his love, and he didn't know if he would ever get the chance to tell you he loved you.

As the battle raged on, Anakin was consumed by a sense of urgency. He had to protect you, not just because it was his duty, but because he couldn't bear to lose you.

At that moment, he knew that his feelings for you were stronger than he had ever realized, and he was willing to do anything to keep you safe.

Anakin had been on the verge of leaving for his new mission, but the realization of the seriousness of the situation weighed heavily on his shoulders.

His former master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and the Jedi Council had been pressuring him to depart immediately, emphasizing the importance of the mission's success. 

Yet, he found himself torn between serving the Jedi Order and the Republic and staying to watch over you.

As he paced back and forth in the sterile confines of the medical bay, Anakin made a difficult decision. He approached your bedside, and taking a deep breath, he whispered.

"I can't leave you like this, darling. I can't turn my back on you when you need me the most. The Republic and the Council may demand my presence on the battlefield, but I can't ignore the bond we share."

Anakin continued, his voice was determined, with a hint of regret. "I know I'm supposed to be a Jedi and serve the greater good, but right now, the greater good is right here."

"I'm going to stay with you, watch over you, and ensure you recover. I'll find a way to make this right with the Council. We've been through too much together for me to abandon you." He was still hopeful.

With that, Anakin made a bold decision. He deactivated his comlink, effectively cutting off communications with the Jedi Council and his superiors, and he settled into a chair by your bedside. 

As the door to the medical bay slid shut behind him, he knew that he was making a choice that could have consequences, but he also understood that his loyalty to you was more important than any mission. 

Anakin was willing to give up on the orders and risk his own future as a Jedi to ensure that you would recover safely under his watchful gaze.

The Jedi Council had grown increasingly concerned about Anakin's prolonged absence from the battlefield, but they could not deny the genuine care and devotion he had for you. 

They allowed his deviation from his mission with a warning that his actions would be evaluated later, a message that Anakin received with an unspoken understanding that he might have to face the consequences of his choice eventually.

As a matter of fact, though, Anakin's heart was heavy with guilt as he watched you being airlifted to a nearby medical facility that day. He couldn't shake the feeling that this mission had been a grave mistake.

Day by day, he would sit by your bedside, talking to you as if you could hear him, sharing stories from your past missions together and the adventures that had developed your friendship. He couldn't help but blame himself for your injuries.

He felt a deep regret for bringing you on this risky mission, knowing that it had resulted in you getting hurt. He wished he had made a different choice, one that might have spared you this pain.

As the weeks passed, Anakin's initial hopefulness began to fade. He would clasp your hand, sometimes whispering promises of hope, scolding himself for not being able to do more.

He even spent long hours researching ancient Jedi healing techniques, desperate to find something that could awaken you from your deep sleep.

But then, on one quiet evening, as the dim light in the room cast long shadows, something happened. Anakin had been holding your hand as he often did, his head hung over in an exhausted sleep. 

The gentle rise and fall of your chest and the soft beep of the medical equipment were the only sounds in the room. It was in this silent, intimate moment that your eyelids slowly opened.

Weak and disoriented, you slowly took in the unfamiliar surroundings, the sterile smell of the medical bay, and the room. 

As your gaze shifted, you saw Anakin, his eyes closed, his breathing steady, and his hand still holding yours. A mix of relief and gratitude rose inside you, knowing that he had been there all this time, watching over you.

A faint smile adorned your lips, and you gently squeezed Anakin's hand, causing him to wake from his sleep. His eyes slowly opened, and for a brief moment, he found the sight of you, awake and conscious.

It took a moment for the realization to sink in, but when it did, his eyes widened with a mix of joy, surprise, and relief.

"You're awake" He breathed, his voice filled with emotion as he leaned closer, still staring at you. He hadn't expected this moment to come so soon, and it overwhelmed him.

You nodded weakly, your voice barely a whisper "I am, thanks to you."

With a tender smile, you watched as Anakin's eyes filled with tears of joy. He reached out to gently brush your cheek and then leaned in to give you a warm and affectionate hug.

One of his strong arms enveloped you in a tight squeeze. He grasped his metal hand gently on your jawline, stroking your soft skin. 

In that moment, you both knew that your bond as friends and allies had deepened, and the sacrifices Anakin had made to watch over you were worth every moment.

He slowly pressed a delicate kiss on the corner of your mouth, lingering on the touch for several seconds.

Resting his forehead against yours, the Jedi let out a sigh. He felt his heart flutter with emotion. "I couldn't let anything happen to you. I... I love you, Y/N."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and your eyes widened in surprise. You weren’t expecting to hear those words from him, especially not in such a vulnerable moment.

You reached out a trembling hand to touch his cheek, your fingers brushing against his temple.

"Anakin," you whispered. "I love you too."

A mixture of relief and joy washed over his face as he took your hand in his hands, his fingers trembling. "I'm so sorry" He said, his voice choking with emotion. "I should have told you sooner, and I should have been a better partner to you."

You smiled weakly, your eyes filled with tenderness. "You're not perfect, Anakin, but neither am I. We can learn and grow together."

Anakin leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I promise, Lovey, I'll do better. I'll be the partner you deserve, and I'll protect you with everything I have. I will never do that to you again, ever."

Your heart swelled with love and forgiveness as you looked into Anakin's eyes. Just then, you both knew that your bond had deepened in ways you couldn't have imagined.

It was a new beginning for you, and you were determined to face the challenges ahead as a team, your love stronger than ever before.

In the entrance hall of the Jedi Temple, bathed in the soft, golden light of the setting sun, Anakin stood waiting with a bouquet of freshly picked flowers in hand. The vibrant colors of the blooms were contrasting, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of nervous excitement.

You made your way through the towering doors of the temple, your steps hesitant but determined. Your gaze fell upon Anakin, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw the earnest smile on his face. Anakin approached you, his eyes filled with warmth and joy.

"Welcome back, Lovey" He said, his voice gentle and affectionate. He extended the bouquet of flowers towards you, a mixture of bright, colorful blooms and soft, delicate petals.

"Anakin, this is beautiful," You said, your voice filled with gratitude.

"I'm so glad to have you back, Y/N. The temple wasn't the same without you” Anakin’s face was bright and his smile was soft. 

You couldn’t help but smile at this demeanor and his actions towards you.

[jq37]

The Report Card – Fantasy High Junior Year Ep 19/20

Blinded By Rage

Welcome back for a final time this year to Fantasy High where we’re covering both parts of the finale in one go! 

Last we left off here, the Bad Kids had gotten control of the Hangman post dragon fight on election night and were flying back to a much changed Elmville, sky turned an angry red in the process of becoming the divine domain of rage. 

When we return, they’re running out of clouds to ride on and need to pick a place to land. Fabian is concerned about just plopping a chunk of his house randomly in town but time is of the essence so they land at school on the Bloodrush field. It’s 10:20 PM, so they have less than two hours until the polls close at midnight. All the non-Bad Kid students get the hell out of Dodge because they’re useless in a crisis as always and all the brave and competent students (read: The Seven) have graduated. 

Brennan rules that, despite how crazy it was, the K2 Divine Intervention was technically buttoned up and allows Kristen to choose a special effect. She wants K2 back to help with spellcasting which Brennan grants (and will live to regret). 

Elmville is NOT doing well. It’s like 107 degrees and they can hear sirens and gunshots. There’s some real The Purge energy. Mazey has the duffel bag of votes but says she’s not allowed to count them until midnight so they all take a short rest to get their stuff back. They send Jawbone and Ragh to make sure Lydia is OK. They also strategize and throw on a bunch of buffs. Gorgug drinks his crazy strength potion he got as a present from Riz that takes him to a 25 Str. Adaine casts Rary’s Telepathic Bond so everyone can communicate telepathically plus Fly on Fabian, Gorgug, and herself. Kristen handcuffs the duffel bag of votes to Mazey for safekeeping. Perhaps, most crucially, Kristen has K2 cast Ice Feat which has ascended from a mistake to a bit to a homebrew spell with the following effects:

Every creature targeted by this spell takes a level of exhaustion and 1d12 cold damage.

The targets are cured of all disease and poison.

All creatures targeted by this spell make constitution saving throws with advantage and their hit point maximum and current hit points increase by 2d10.

The targets gain immunity to fire damage and the stunned condition.

Remember that last one for later. 

Anyway, there’s a lot more that they do but I’ll mention stuff if they come up in a big way. For now, let’s bust into the gym where Porter plus Jace and the Rat Grinders are trying and failing to do the ritual because they never got the proper name (highlighted by Buddy who in his same blind earnestness from before he was rage star’d thinks Bakarath is the true name and they’re just not believing hard enough).

Porter is furious that he was tricked into using the wrong name and grows to an enormous size, doing the foot stomp stun thing from earlier in the season but Ice Feast gives immunity to the stun condition so with a successful “Loser says what?” from Gorgug, it’s time to roll for initiative! 

To set the scene, the gym (and all of Elmville really) is breaking apart. Team Porter has invoked all this energy but can’t do anything with it so it’s kind of like a ticking time bomb ready to explode. The floor of the gym is cracking and there’s bubbling lava underneath–lava that is actually the carcass of Ankarna and the rage domain is spilling into the material plane. 

I also want to mention that even though several people have abilities/spells active that allow them to see Invisibility, no one can see Kipperlilly. We learn later it’s because she’d never been truly invisible, she’s just that good at hiding. 

As always, I’m gonna just hit highlights for the fight but ooh man, there are some highlights:

Riz on his first turn does a super clutch casting of Slow which gums up the works for the Rat Grinders for a big chunk of the fight. 

Just as they planned earlier (both in game and as we learned during the AP, out of game) Oisin is the top priority to deal with. A tag team of Fig and Gorgug gets him off the board in the first round before he can even cast a single spell. 

Ivy attacks the Hangman on her turn and Fabian returns the favor by brutally one-shotting her his next turn. Like, *extremely* brutally. He has low key had it out for her since she was mean about Mazey way back at the top of the season. But even Mazey (who is joining the fight because they can’t actually kill her, logistically speaking since she needs to count the votes) is like hmm, don’t know if I *love* that. (For the record, Ivy is killed first but Oisin is attacked first. That’s why I have them in this order). 

After Ruben hits everyone with a 9th level spell (highest level a spell can be for anyone not familiar) Fig gives up on the dude. Once the 9th level spells get broken out, the time for talking is over. In disguise as Wanda, she rips a very confused Ruben a new one for not being receptive to any of her attempts to coax him onto a redemption arc. She eventually blasts him into hell which sounds brutal until you remember that it’s functionally just her office. 

Because the Rat Grinders are clustered together in a very non-strategic way, Adaine is able to hit them all with Synaptic Static which not only does damage but also forces a bunch of their spellcasters to lose Concentration on spells. Everyone but Buddy I believe. 

Kipperlilly gets Riz with 8 points of damage but he gets her with 21 damage on his Attack of Opportunity as she escapes which is almost triple. That’s crazy! 

And I wanna pause here to make a quick point. The Rat Grinders are kind of bad at this. Like, they have all these high level abilities–and we know Brennan can be brutal in how he runs NPCs cause we’ve seen them in Neverafter and ACOC. But the Rat Grinders are just seriously dropping like flies. And that’s due to a combination of three things. One, the Intrepid Heroes and by extension the Bad Kids are just really good at this. They’ve had a lot of practice and they’ve had time to strategize. They read the rules. They’re making clutch decisions. Of course they’re good at what they’re doing. Secondly, they got some great rolls. For instance, initiative worked out that they had the opportunity to merc Oisin before he could start slinging 9th level wizard spells. And finally, as we learned in the AP, the Rat Grinders had level 20 abilities but they were still very squishy because they didn’t level up properly. 

Anyway, back to the fight.

Jace splits himself into 4 copies and finally gets Ankarana’s name with a Detect Thoughts on Fig. That’s not the only road block for the Bad Kids. They’re doing really well considering but also taking some Ls. Fabian drops (as does Fig later) and Adaine gets caught with Flesh to Stone.

Riz tries to find Kipperlilly and, when he can’t, he goes under the gym floorboards, shoots at Porter, and introduces the last big element to this combat: with his last 5 feet of movement, he jumps into the lava to hide. Because, as Emily mouthed to him a few minutes earlier, because of Ice Feast, they’re all immune to Fire Damage. Brennan forgot to account for that. The lava is only a hazard for his NPCs. The Bad Kids are all immune. Kipperlilly is so baffled that she goes, “What the fuck?” and gives away her position. 

From this point on, utilizing the combo of Fly and fire immunity to stay out of range of enemies–either in the sky or below the gym floorboards in/near the lava–becomes a major part of their strategy. For instance, Kristen goes under there to do some Mass Healing without being a target.

Porter in this fight is very fearsome. He has Legendary Actions and he can attack so hard that you get hit just from the air moving so fast before his weapon even hits you. Later on in the two-parter, he stops on Gorgug’s skull and gives him two death saves. It’s a whole world of hurt. 

But, the Bad Kids also are no-selling him at every single turn. He insults them but they just say he was a shitty teacher. He tries to activate their rage crystals but, guess what? They all avoided taking a rage token all season so it has no effect. He even tries to give them a speech about how the school sucks and they should be on his side but they’re like, my brother in Ankarna, YOU’RE a big part of why the school has been sucking. Adaine and Fig have great back to back lines. Fig accuses him of having no principles, just pride. And Adaine says the school didn’t MAKE them waste their summer on the Night Yorb quest. That was their mistake and they fixed it. He seems a bit surprised and confused that they won’t engage with his philosophy but that’s really on him if he thought THIS would tempt the Bad Kids at all. They’re great at getting mad all on their own. All he’s offering is the destruction of their homes. 

Riz on his next turn sets himself up in a purposefully clumsy hiding spot where he will be easily visible to anyone looking for him but they will have to get in melee range to hit him and he readies an action to catch a spell. 

On Fig’s turn, she gets away from Porter to get in position but that earns her a nasty attack of opportunity from him that's so powerful it starts carbonizing her blood (which is what happened to Yolanda you'll remember so now we know for sure who killed her). But once she gets away from him, she is safe in the lava (which is also Ankarana’s body). She tells Ankarna that she needs to choose her own path and then does a huge Fireball (which is the actual killing blow on Ruben btw). The Fireball also breaks Buddy’s concentration on the spell he’s been holding all fight which was a Banishment on the ballot box. They now have a way to get the votes delivered! 

This is where part 1 ends but we’re rolling this all together for the recap so let’s keep going! 

(I also have to note that for part two, everyone but Brennan is dressed in emo gear. Do with that info what you will.)

Fabian pulls out Bakur’s gem and throws him out like a Pokemon. He doesn’t break out right away but Brennan takes the opportunity to intro a new mechanic where portals open and on a high enough roll, the Bad Kids can call allies to help. 

Fabian ALSO has the idea to push Jace (well, one of the 4 Jaces) into the lava which, surprise surprise, the fighter/dancer is stronger than the waifish sorcerer. And that’s 18d10 damage so yeah. This fight largely becomes the throwing people into lava challenge. And can you blame them? That’s so much damage!

We get a little bit of elucidation about how the rage crystals work. Porter is a kind of hive queen and he can exert influence over the people with crystals in their chest. We see him do it to Jace and we see crystals leave the chests of Oisin, Ivy, and Ruben (well not his chest cause he’s in hell but from where he was standing). The crystals are parasitic and jump ship to try and find new hosts. 

Mazey gets rage star’d. Bad! K2 Banishes Buddy. Good! (Extra good bc K2 is Invisible and can’t be Counterspelled) 

Porter chugs some devil’s honey and calls to Ankarna that he’s trying to rez her so he can worship her which we know is a lie cause his real goal is to usurp her. Fig and Kristen treat her like a friend who’s getting back with her shitty ex and are like girl he’s lying to you! 

In one of my fave moments of the ep, Kipperlilly falls for the trap Riz laid in part one, going to attack him where he’s awkwardly positioned and not realizing that he was actually forcing her to jump over a pit of lava. The moment she does, he hits her with a Hold Person which stops her in her tracks and causes her to fall straight into the lava. Riz gets in the last word in this one-sided rivalry, “Very good on paper, but no practical application.”

She sinks into the lava and, as she does, we see she doesn’t have a visible rage crystal (only a symbol) because, unlike the others, she is a full willing participant. (Note: She DOES have a crystal to be clear, Brennan mentions that later, it’s just put in a different way).

Mary Ann fully jumps into the lava to attack Fig, tanking the damage and downing a very injured Fig in one hit. 

Adaine gets a very clutch move next, whisking all her injured friends to safer parts of the battlefield and drawing a legendary action from Porter even though she’s one of the least tanky members of the group. But with her Mirror Images, she gets off scott free! Adaine, Battle Wizard! 

Since Mazey is under rage control, Porter tries to make her disband the school but a Clippy style pop up of Arthur Aguefort shows up to say that mind controlling the class president to make them do stuff doesn’t count, you have to win fair and square. The things that this man plans for vs what he overlooks is baffling. 

Not only that but with Kipperlilly dead (and no cleric to heal her since Buddy is banished) their plan is kind of screwed. Even if they can rig the vote, their candidate is dead. 

When Jace and Porter are squabbling about plan logistics, Porter says, “Figure it out Stardiamond or I’ll kill you again,” which confirms that Jace got roped into the plan that way. Maybe Porter knew he needed someone with spells?

Gorgug gets a Nat 20 to pop up (from Porter downing him and giving him 2 death saves as I mentioned earlier) and then destroy another Jace clone, again with lava. 

Gonna pause again to say that I am really skimming over a lot here. Battle episodes are just not conducive to straight up recaps when they’re this long and involved. I’m gonna steal a trick of Adaine and quickly reposition everyone so you know the state of the battlefield where I’m jumping back in with the plot-forward part of the fight. Bakur has busted out of his gem but isn’t sure which side to join at first. The Bad Kids eventually are able to roll high enough to get some allies on the field–Ragh/Lydia/Sandra Lynn/Jawbone/Gorthalax plus  Squeem and Balthazar (but don’t worry too much about them. The most notable things there are Lydia does a sick wheelchair jump assistant by Ragh to get an attack in and Squeem heals everyone with cortados). Mary Ann goes down to lava. Fabian is able to break Mazey out of her rage with The Power Of Getting Your Kisses In and they make it official vis a vis boyfriend/girlfriend titles. 

Fig and Kristen try to tag team to tell Ankarna that Porter is lying to her but they don’t make the Dispel Magic roll to get rid of the Devil’s Honey. You know who does though? With a crit? As she farts and days Blimey?

Yeah, I told you Brennan was going to live to regret letting her live. Zac takes over again and Brennan just says, “No,” and leaves for a bit while everyone else howls with laughter. 

Brennan is so over it that he rules that, after this fight, K2 will be granted true life (Pinnochio style) and then banished to real life actual England. (Which seems dangerous considering Unsleeping City takes place irl but dig your own grave man). 

ANYWAY, All Of That aside, the Dispel Magic does work and Bakur is able to see the lies despite the Devil’s Honey. He joins the fight on the BK’s side. 

Also the bird cop shows up to shoot the last Jace. Don’t worry about it. 

OK, so going into the endgame of this fight, All the Rat Grinders are dead except for Buddy who is Banished. Bakur is there, and fighting with our heroes. Some of their allies have arrived. Mazey and Fabian and both down. All but one Jace (the one who got shot) is fully off the board.  And they still have to convince Ankarna that Porter is a big liar. 

OK, pieces repositioned, let’s finish this fight up. 

Having just been brought up by Sandra Lynn (like I said, I skimmed a LOT), it’s Adaine’s turn and she decides to do something uncharacteristic for a wizard. She takes a leap of faith. She uses her earworm present from Fabian to cast Detect Thoughts on all of her friends in range (Kristen and Fig) plus Bakur and Porter. 

According to the wording of the card (which I assume has been partially homebrewed for the setting bc it’s a bit different than the one in the official book), using the earworm to cast Detect Thoughts sends the information gleaned to the nearest extraplanar creature. Which in this case is Ankarna.   

The Devil’s Honey is dispelled now so it’s just up to if Porter makes his save or not (Adaine tells her friends to fail on purpose). He makes it, but Gorgug throws one of his inventions–a flashbang grenade–at him with another great line. He goes out of his rage and says, “Hey. Don’t be blinded by rage.” FLASH! The grenade goes off and he’s distracted enough to fail the save. His thoughts get broadcasted right to Ankarna. 

Adaine says, "Is this justice? Is this a new dawn?"

In this moment, Brennan lets everyone roll as a cleric of Ankarna for Divine Intervention. I cannot BELIEVE he lets K2 roll but, thankfully, she doesn’t actually get it. It’s Fabian, unconscious and appropriately in a kind of liminal state that’s able to do it (Note: Mazey is supposed to be down at this point so I don’t know how this next thing happens–whether it’s just a continuity blip or in his head or whatever but I’m just reporting what happened at the table, OK?). In his unconscious state, Mazey is really emotional about Fabian going down. She says that he's a really great and caring person even outside all of the things that make him traditionally cool and she wishes they could have lost their V Cards together. Ankarna, goddess of justice, will NOT let such an injustice stand. That’s enough to make her emerge from the lava, fully formed (and Fig, who has the keys to her domain, of course lets her in). She pops up and immediately slices Porter in half with a huge ass god sword. Sayonara Porter! Maybe you can be a boat in hell with Goldenhoard. 

Things start to calm, but it’s still all weird and liminal as Ankarna’s domain is being reestablished. Everyone is separated and Brennan asks them all for a moment of something unfair that they regret accepting. What follows is a bit similar to the American Dream sequence in Unsleeping City where Ankarna offers each of them a chance for vengeance/justice but is turned down. 

Gorgug thinks of Porter unfairly writing him off. Kristen thinks of her bio family. Adaine sees her parents pitting her against her sister who she could have been loving this whole time. Riz sees how hard it was to connect with people but also how he pushed Fig and Kristen this year and sees a bit of Kipperlilly in himself. Fig sees all of her internal conflict from the past year from not being able to make a pact with herself to not being able to act for help. Fabian sees the burden of living up to his father's legacy. Ankarna heals everyone of their wounds but then sadly sends them to a Twilight Forest (presumably Cass’s domain) when they politely say that they appreciate the offer but don’t need vengeance.  

Fabian does have a moment come from this however as Gorthalax and Bakur tag team to bring Bill in for a little heart to heart with Fabian where he says that he’d love his son even if he wasn’t a Maximum Legend and he’d give up his legacy for one more day to spend with Fabian. 

(Also, Lydia and Bakur are cool now. They talked it out off screen.)

With all of that, everyone is now together and Cass is holding Ankarna who is badly injured. Ankarna kind of has the attitude that Cass had at the end of last season where it was like, it doesn’t seem like anyone really needs me and all I’ve done is cause trouble so maybe I shouldn’t be here. The Bad Kids reassure her that she’s more than just her usefulness and that contrary to her declaration that she has no followers, she has at least six in the six of them. Ankarna cries happy tears.

Cass and Ankarna are about to leave to have a well deserved reunion but Kristen holds them up to ask about where the hell Kalina is. Ankarna gets all agitated because she’s NEVER trusted that cat and she’s damn near about to go on a crusade to find her as soon as Kristen brings up her suspicions. Before they leave, they have some business to attend to. 

They raise Rat Grinders (sans Kipperlilly since she was a willing participant) and Ankarna takes her name off of Lucy and Yolanda’s bodies so they can be raised. Then, Cass takes a selfie with Kristen and Ankarna and drafts a social media post to send to Craig to post because Kristen may be great in a foxhole, but she’s not the most organized person in Spyre. 

With this all wrapped up, Aguefort (and Ayda!) finally show up but the Bad Kids absolutely refuse to let him take credit for their victory. Mazey counts the votes. Adaine gets Aguefort to remove the bit in the bylaws about drugs being illegal (he calls it “narc shit). 

Riz pulls Kristen aside to make sure she actually wants to be president and that she’s not just doing it for his sake and she says yeah, (though she later says she wants him to be VP with her which he is very down for). 

Bobby Dawn tries to leave town (without even taking his grandkid!) but Fabian is chasing his ass down for all of his bullshit against his friends. 

Lucy is brought back and confirms that her friends killed her but also says that Ruben was one of her best friends before this started, implying that he was fully personality changed by the rage stars (unlike Kipperlilly who was maybe made more extreme but was rageful from the start). We see this in action when Ruben is brought back, basically tabula rasa. He has no memories of his emo persona and is really stressed to have lost his puka shell necklace. Ivy and Oisin seem like they have more memories and are ashamed of what they did but there’s not an explanation given of why the difference in effect. 

Mary Ann is basically the same and has a very abrupt conversation with Gorgug where she asks him if he has a girlfriend, much to everyone’s delight. Gorgug is so baffled and frustrated but finally lands on, “She’s so hot,” to everyone's further delight. 

Time for epilogues y’all! 

Kristen decides to be a cleric for not just Cass but Ankarna too. She even talks to Tracker (who is on a break from both Nara and Nara's money) about maybe poaching Galacaea from Sol’s pantheon. She also drops Gertie for the possibility of getting into a situationship with Tracker, earning herself a nemesis. 

Riz decides to try and chill out a little and switch from coffee to tea. He still thinks change can be scary but he recognizes that without change, he never would have met his friends. 

Aelwyn delivers a letter from the Court of Stars to Adaine which they open over ice cream sundaes at Basrar’s. Apparently, some wizard is starting shit in Sylvere–their mother. They’re both ready to plan a road trip to go kill that bitch, but before their sister murder quest (a normal thing for sisters to do) Aelwyn says that she hopes she and Adaine can eat ice cream and do magic together forever, and that if the price to have Adaine was suffering their shitty parents, it was a worthy trade. Adaine happily agrees. 

Fabian gets the Tornado to put his house back and rolls for his first time with Mazey. The dice are not on his side but luckily Mazey likes him for his personality, lol. His mom and Gilear show up and announce that they’re expecting…a dog…to guard the new baby. Also Telemaine is moving in. Fabian is distraught, even moreso when he gets a ping on Nemesis Alert. The unborn baby has already declared themselves his nemesis. At least Cathilda is also back! 

Like Riz, Gorgug also takes some time to relax since he's no longer taking 4 classes at once. He hangs with his parents and gets some presents for Fig since she was such a big help to him this year. He also makes things official with Mary Ann. Aguefort asks if he's considered being a teacher after he graduates and Ayda boasts that she always knew he was special. Aguefort also stops just short of saying he might be the bad guy next year and disappears into a flock of birds when questioned. Maddening as always. 

Fig gets some time with Sandra Lynn who is very supportive of her (which is saying a lot considering Fig has Porter’s literal balls on a chain, do not even ask). She decides school isn’t for her and drops out which she is a little concerned Ayda might judge her for since she’s so studious but Ayda says that learning isn’t confined to a classroom and starts a spell to link Leviathan to her domain in hell. Ageufort is also OK with her dropping out personally, but he does warn her that attack robots WILL be tracking her down for dropping out. Insane, but she’s not too worried about that. She just wants some alone time with Ayda. 

And finally, two bits of unfinished business. Unseen to the Bad Kids, Buddy pops out of his Banishment, still a true believer in Bakarath. He believes SO HARD that a baby god comes into existence. Then, out of the shadows KALINA appears and says, "Buddy, we gotta get the fuck out of here. They are coming for us. Your grandfather is not gonna fucking believe this."

And that’s it! End of season. Class dismissed! 

Plot Post Mortem 

OK y’all there was a LOT going on this season and not everything was neatly wrapped up but I’m gonna take a little bit of time to try and put together what we do know. 

We know that Porter was the ultimate puppetmaster of his plot and everyone else was an underling of his to some degree. Jace had a visible rage star in him so it seems that he was forcibly drafted rather than being a fully willing participant. 

The Rat Grinders formed a party (at that time called the High Five Heroes) Freshman Year. They went to the Mountains of Chaos for Spring Break. Near the end of Sophomore Year, all of her friends killed her. 

The Rat Grinders are on record as just grinding rats which seems to be a half lie because we know from talking to rats that they WERE doing that for a time but eventually Porter recruited them and started farming XP for them.

And we know that Kipperlilly was a willing participant of the plan but the other Rat Grinders were forced. 

So my best guess for the series of events here are as follows. In Freshman Year or so, Porter forced Jace into having a crystal so he can have a minion with spells (again, Porter does explicitly say he killed Jace). He spends the year scouting for a good candidate for his plan and finds an already naturally aggro Kipperlilly. 

He starts showing an interest in her and lets her in on his plan. She’s super down because she’s already bitter about the perceived injustice of the system. He feeds her unhealthy thought processes. This is why she starts having more rage outburst in Sophomore Year.

Now it’s never made clear when the other Rat Grinders join the plan and how that goes down. The popular theory is that they all died in the Mountains of Chaos but that doesn’t quite make sense. The only way that works is if everyone died except for Lucy. Why would she leave Lucy alive though? Because she was the closest to her? Was it just happenstance? Another possibility is that once they got there, Kipperlilly was the only one willing to get rage star’d and everyone else got cold feet. So, once they got home, she started putting the pressure on everyone else and eventually started killing them one by one to forcibly recruit them, ending with the dogpile on Lucy. This is all speculation of course, I’m just trying to square the info we know to be true with the bits of lore we have. Kipperlilly expected Lucy to come back like the others and they didn’t. With her dead, they needed a new cleric for the plan which is why Buddy Dawn was drafted. 

Kipperlilly DID have a rage star–it just wasn’t put into her by force. She chose to take it on. It’s not entirely clear how much it affected her–or anyone’s–actions or personality. Emo Ruben still spoke fondly of Lucy and seemed sad about her death. Kipperlilly was more unhinged in Junior Year but it’s not like she was super hinged before. 

It’s also not clear how much autonomy you have when you’re rage star’d. It seems to me that the rage star doesn’t really mind control you so much as play up the rageful thoughts you already have–for instance Adaine when she almost gets rage star’d saying that if she was consumed by rage she’d destroy Falinel and Sylvaire looking for her mom. It CAN mind control you if Porter uses an action to control you but most of the time you’re just an angry version of yourself (though Ruben’s complete personality swap raises questions). 

Anyway, that’s the best I can figure. No need to keep spinning wheels now that the season is done. 

Honor Roll

Adaine Abernant for Some Unorthodox Wizardry 

I am biased towards Adaine but I think she deserves her props this episode. 

A Wizard putting themselves in a position where they have to tank damage is so risky, but she cares about her friends enough to Scatter them to safety and hope her Mirror Images do their job.

A Wizard getting in melee range with a Pally/Barb seems like a recipe for disaster but Adaine was able to parry Porter with her sword. 

And having faith isn’t really in a Wizard’s wheelhouse but she has enough faith in her friends to try a big swing in reaching out to Ankarna. 

(Big Honorable Mentions to Riz trapping KP and Gorgug using her grenade on Porter in the climax). 

Detention 

Kipperlilly for Being a Bad Rogue

I’m not even giving her this spot for being a bad guy. I’m giving her this spot for being a ROGUE and not HIDING when the plan hinged on her SURVIVING TO THE END. Girl, what were you doing in melee range??? You have a crossbow, bitch, use it! Frankly she shouldn’t have even been on the battlefield, but I know for story reasons she had to be. But if she had to be there she could have played it waaaaaay smarter. 

Random Thoughts

Oisin was rage star’d but I have to assume his grandma wasn’t, right? I mean she was buddies with Kalvaxus so she probably just is OK with pillaging and evil. From her POV was it just like oh thank Helio my nerdy-ass grandson finally got cool. 

The way that gods work in this world always kind of trips me up. Because gods have been established to not be autonomous individuals in the way that people are. Saying, “Choose your own path” is nice, but it doesn’t really make sense when your personality is literally decided by your followers. They’re more mirrors than they are people. Same thing with morality. If it’s not Ankarna’s fault that she was made into a rageful conqueror, it’s also not Helio’s fault that he’s a fratty college boy (allegedly, I still think that’s more what Kristen felt than what was textually there). Unless we’re saying that each god has a “true self” and anything that pulls them from that is anomalous, then it’s hard to have conversations about gods while viewing them as people with direct agency. 

What was up with the vision Adaine kept having? Was that a trick to get them to have that party? Because they probably wouldn’t have done that without her visions. Who did that? Was it a Dream spell like Fig was doing to Ruben?

I didn’t mention it but it was very funny for Adaine to pull a Brer Rabbit: Ohhhh noooo. Please don’t throw me in the laaavaaaaaa. 

Who was watching Fig/Wanda “die” in the window, Brennan????? You never told us!!!! 

I thought it was sweet when Kristen was like I do wish I had a sister and Adaine was like, I’m your sister :)

I’ll prob make a longer post on this later but I really do not understand why the Ankarna plot is what was picked for this season when it’s so similar to the Cass plot from last season: Goddess of a concept that can be good but people find scary/are skeptical about is changed by the actions of their followers into something monstrous that is being manipulated by bad actors in the current day who the Bad Kids win over to their side and one of them becomes the prophet/champion of. It even has the beat of the goddess, post-rezzing, being like, “Idk if you really need me.” They’re even married! I don’t have a problem with Ankarna the character but she does feel a bit like a rehash of Cass’s storybeats, just in orange instead of purple. 

I still have some thoughts but they’ll get answered over the next week as I go through the remaining asks in my ask box and I’ve been working on this for hours so I’m gonna cut this short. As a whole, I thought this season was so much fun! Plot-wise it was probably the muddiest of all the Spyre seasons and I would def have changed stuff but it didn’t hinder my week-to-week enjoyment and it’s always a good time hanging out with the Bad Kids. (Also you all know that the #1 thing I’m here for is Abernant Sisters content and I was extremely catered to in this regard, lol). 

Thanks for following these recaps this season! I really appreciate everyone hopping into the tags or asks to talk and theorize and stuff.  If you wanna engage with more of my writing, you can check out my podcast: Absolutely No Adventures or my visual novels on itch.io. It would mean a lot!

[coldresolve]

Moneymakers, pt.xliii // the_attic_181120XX

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Knuckles connect right under his eye, nearing the slope from his cheek to the bridge of his nose, and while the force behind it isn’t particularly damaging, it’s still enough to make his face snap sideways. The gasp he lets out stems mostly from surprise. In the moment where he takes a step backwards, gloved hand reaching to touch the site of impact, another punch lands on the side of his head, clipping his ear. That stings.

Renee sees red.

He pushes forward through flailing arms, slamming into the guy hard enough to knock them both over. Conrad lands partially on the mattress of his bed, and Renee follows closely behind, barely bracing himself before he shouts and brings his fist down, twice. A glimpse of red flying from the third one, low squawks of distress, barely noticeable under the ringing in Renee’s ears. But somehow, through the blows, Conrad manages to curl one leg up and plant a foot in his abdomen. He doesn’t have enough room to kick the wind out of him, but he accomplishes a solid push instead, one that throws Renee’s weight off, and he topples onto the bed, clawing at the covers as Conrad slips away, clearly headed for the door.

He doesn’t make it far. As soon as Renee has righted himself, he lurches forward, manages a slim grasp in the fabric of Conrad’s shirt. A hoarse cry is choked back when the collar draws tight over his throat, as is the one he tries to let out when he accidentally supports his weight on the bad leg in an attempt to keep his balance; his knee buckles completely, like the whole leg just gives out. The shirt slips from Renee’s fingers as Conrad sinks to the floor with a cry.

It’s almost eerie, how quickly Renee’s rage slides from frantic into something different. The sight of downed prey flips another switch. Your core is still burning, but your eyes latch on to him, much, much colder.

You get to your feet, close in his sorry excuse for a slipstream, boots treading over the drops of blood he leaves behind. You plant a foot on his lower back, and he crumples beneath you. He lets out this pathetic groan which only solidifies your desire to smear his guts on the wall. It’s just you and him, and nothing else. Nothing around you. Nothing in between.

You straddle his back, one gloved hand pushing his head to the floor, just keeping it steady. He can’t turn far enough to look you in the eye, but you can look into his clearly enough. There’s panic there, fear, but beneath it – what else? – disgust. He tries to hit your leg, weakly pushes at your knee, neck straining to raise his head. Wriggling, like a miserable little worm.

You’re sort of hoping something in his face breaks on the first punch. That’s the brand of effort you put into it, anyway; you want something to cave in. But once your fist has landed, and you hear that hoarse grunt of pain, feel his body twitch underneath you, you can’t bring yourself to pause and check. You just hit him again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again, until you lose track of anything else. Fucking cursed rhythm. The pain in your elbow rears its head, the bone that never really got a chance to heal. You can’t hear him anymore. You can’t hear yourself. You only hear the impact, the bludgeoning, aimless. The yawn of a void that aches to be filled, and what a goddamn bore it is. You’re predictable. This song is getting old, it’s nauseating, but you can’t stop.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And—

Davin’s voice is nearly inaudible. Intonation is hard to distinguish, as is volume. “Renee,” he says.

Conrad gasps beneath him, head still pressed down. Blurry splatters of vermilion on the floor. Renee stops, somehow. His fist hovers beside his shoulder, shaking. Teeth locked, panting through his nose. His vision is so clouded, he can barely see.

“Save it,” Davin tells him.

One of Conrad’s hands pushes against the floorboards in another attempt to get up. Blood bubbles from his nose, gets caught in the creases of a wince. Voice rattling, but there’s a trace of bitter laughter in it, too. “He’s, he’s using you.”

Renee doesn’t move. Doesn’t punch, but doesn’t let up, either. His thumb digs into Conrad’s cheek. His own breathing rings hollow in his chest, makes his whole body vibrate. It feels good to grind someone’s face into the floor. It feels fucking good.

But he’s calming down. He’s in control.

“Renee,” Davin repeats. Sounds impatient.

Renee lets out a hiss through his teeth, sneering as he grabs Conrad arm and twists it onto his back. Grunts of effort rise from Conrad’s chest, straining to pry himself loose. Thin little noodle arms, what the fuck does he expect? It’s not even a contest. Dumb motherfucker. Dumb fuck. Dumb fuck. Renee pins both wrists with one hand. He avoids looking at the guy’s face directly, even when a gasp sends pink spittle flying. The red in his periphery is enough to grasp the idea.

As Renee is patting down his pockets for the handcuffs, still breathless, he hears the chain rattle from a few feet to his right. Shuts his eyes, baring his teeth. If he has to take another smug look from the mop, he’s pretty sure he will actually, physically explode. He just holds a hand out in Davin’s direction, and waits, until the nonchalant footsteps have drawn near, and something bumps the palm of his hand.

Once the cuffs are on, he lets Conrad go entirely. Pushes himself to his feet, turning his back on them both as he digs his fingers into the joint of his elbow, searching for reprise from the pulsing waves of pain. He clicks open the button on his wrist to pull one glove off. When he touches his upper lip, his fingers, still shaking, come away red. He thought he could taste it; he spits on the floor. Wipes the bottom half of his face in his shirt. What the fuck am I doing? But he’s in control. He’s in control.

After a deep breath, Renee finally turns to Davin. Blank expression. Psycho. All the man does is hold the eye contact for a bit, and then wordlessly shift to look at Conrad on the floor. Renee steels himself, follows his gaze.

Lying on his side, half curled around himself. There’s a gash running parallel through the one eyebrow, another splitting the skin of his cheekbone. Blood from the nose too, and the mouth. Red marks of rapidly forming bruises, scattered all over that one side of his face. It’s already starting to swell. He's staring dead-eyed at something the floor directly in front of his face.

A molar. Looks like two at first, but no. It’s just cracked in half.

Renee inhales deep. Sets his jaw as he walks back to Conrad’s side, not that he really stands a chance of playing it off like nothing happened. He coughs to mitigate the uneven feeling of his own voice. “Get up.”

Shaky breathing interrupted briefly when Conrad swallows with some effort. That rattling sound again, like there’s something in his throat. “You s-, see it, don’t you? He’s using you.”

“Get up, Conrad.”

A grimace. “Go to hell.”

Renee feels his body tense up again, comes within a hair’s breadth of unleashing that energy in a hard kick. Instead he bows down to grab an upper arm. Conrad draws in a sharp inhale as Renee pulls him up. Strongly favoring the good leg, he staggers to keep his balance as Renee maneuvers him out the door, with Davin following closely behind.

It takes Renee a few too many moments of frustrated hauling along to realize Conrad isn’t just being difficult for the sake of it. He does try to keep up, but even the limping is off kilter, visibly dizzy. They’re halfway down the hall when he lets out a whine and sinks again, and Renee finds himself catching Conrad’s whole weight by the arm before he can fall on his face.

So be it. Renee picks him up. Hears the muffled croak as Conrad’s diaphragm is poised on one shoulder, the noises of discomfort for each step Renee takes. He’s skinny, but a hundred-and-some pounds still isn’t a light task to carry up a winding flight of stairs – by the time they reach the platform, Renee is winded once again, feels the sweat building under his clothes.

He drops Conrad rather unceremoniously in the open space in the middle of the room, and steps out of the spotlights’ rays to gather his bearings. Wipes his nose again – still bleeding, but it’s subsiding – as Davin takes up his usual seat behind the monitor, shaking the mouse to stir it from slumber. Their eyes meet. Renee is ready to snap back at another mention of the time, but it doesn’t come. Davin just turns to the computer. Types out a short command, then poises one elbow on the table, a closed fist covering his mouth.

Another deep breath, and more than one silent refrain of, It’s just a job. Get it over with. Renee turns. In passing, he hears the near-silent whisper from the body hunched on the floor.

“Don’t make me stand up.”

Gritting his teeth, Renee fishes both ends of the chain from the hook in the wall. It clinks from the exposed rafters above, sways with his movements as Renee returns to Conrad. He secures one end to the handcuffs by the heavy carabiner, fumbling briefly with the locking mechanism, getting more and more frustrated with how much his hands are shaking. Once it’s fastened, he pulls Conrad up by the arm again, eliciting a groan, and only lets go when Conrad’s trembling uncertainty has dimmed enough that he can at least keep himself vertical. And then Renee steps back, pulling the other end of the chain with alternating hands, until it draws taught, lifting Conrad’s bound hands up toward his shoulder blades. The wince, the way his torso curls forward, and his shoulders hunch to accommodate. He’s staring at the floor, teeth bared in a grimace. The streaks of blood on his face are drying rapidly under the heat of the lights, even if the wounds are still bleeding.

Renee can be cruel if he wants to. It’s nothing he hasn’t done before. Really, what’s another stream on his conscience? He can slip into the role of that giddy, vindictive host, and put on a show for the depraved. He can earn his fucking money, whatever that takes, and then fuck off to Vegas to see how long it’ll last. He pulls the balaclava out of his pocket, drags it over his head. These things are always mildly itchy, for some reason, and his stubble gets caught in the fabric when he moves his head.

It’s a reluctantly shared glance that settles it. A simple nod, and the press of a button. They’re live.

It takes him an extraordinary amount of time to speak. For the first minute of the stream, he slowly walks across the room to pick up a folding chair leaned against the wall. Its legs drag loudly across the floor as he hauls it back towards what he knows is center frame. “Ladies,” he mutters, and he lets that linger for a while. Flips open the chair, placing it no more than a foot from Conrad’s side. As he sits down, crossing one ankle over his knee, he lets out a sigh that gets caught in the fabric over his face. Scratches at his chin through the balaclava. “Gentlemen... Attic... Welcome. So on and so forth.

“It’s been a week, hasn’t it? But he’s not dead, so you can stop speculating. He’s even relatively intact still.” Renee hesitates. Nods his head towards Conrad’s face, but doesn’t take his eyes off the camera. “Don’t mind all that, we had a mutual disagreement.” He chuckles dryly, but it fades into another sigh, gaze wandering to the side. “Sure has been seven days on the calendar,” he mutters, trailing off for a moment, before he catches the eye of the lens again. “I wish I could show you all a gimp – sorry, glimpse of what’s been going on behind the scenes, but honesty, it’s been pretty uneventful. Just your average administrative bullshit. Paperwork, filing cabinets, office meetings… Boring shit. Lame, some might call it. Eh?”

He elbows Conrad lightly in the thigh, and although it elicits a hiss, Conrad doesn’t turn his head. Just keeps it bowed facing the opposite direction, hands curled into fists behind him.

“He agrees,” Renee concludes. Laughs again, and while it’s a far cry from genuine, he thinks it might at least be fake in a way that he can stomach. He makes a big show of stretching his arms out, only to fold his hands on the back of his head, leaning backwards. “Yeah, so, with all the usual coworker drama, I’ve been racking this galaxy brain of mine for ways we could have some fun for a change. Loosen up a little bit, y’know? Forget the stressors of our nine-to-fives in exchange for… something more lively. And the best way to do that, as far as I’m concerned—”

“I love my dad.”

Renee pauses. “Huh?”

Shoulders tense, eyes still fixed to the wall, blood dripping from his chin. Conrad blinks rapidly for a few seconds, swallowing. “I love my dad,” he says again, louder this time. Deep breath. “I love Howard.”

Renee nods a little, brows raised. “Heartwarming, C-boy.”

Swaying ever so slightly where he stands, Conrad continues. “I love Paisley, and Jude, and the, and the twins. I love Ma and Bill.”

Renee coughs. “I kinda had this whole bit planned out, you know.”

“I love, I love everybody.��

Renee snorts. “What, are you fuckin’ Jesus now? You know I’m included in that last one, right?”

Conrad lets out a terse breath though his nose. Still doesn’t look at him.

Renee casts a few raised-brow glances between Conrad and the camera. “Anythin’ else you’d like to share with the class?”

A minute shake of his head.

It’s that look Conrad has afterwards, resigned, something almost content in his posture, that finally makes it click for Renee. He freezes, feeling his shoulders sink. Suddenly struggles to process the implications of what just happened.

Was that goodbye?

For a few seconds, he forgets they’re live. Just sits there, hands still locked at the back of his head, staring into nothing. It takes a while before he’s able to gradually pull himself out of it. He clears his throat and gets to his feet, moves the chair off to the side. Wants to say something, to keep the show going, but he doesn’t know how.

Why today? Why did these big shows of defiance, this fucking declaration of martyrdom, have to come today, of all days, when Renee’s nerves are already in tatters, when the whole thing is already making him sick to his stomach?

He ends up by the table in the back, running his gloved fingers past the various objects. Eyes latch on to the syringe, waiting. The liquid encased in glass, measured out beforehand, is a clear brownish yellow. The needle is so slim, it’s barely even visible against the grain of the tabletop.

His voice sounds distant. Casual, but distant. “Hallucinogens are kind of funny,” he says. “There’s a plant called datura – it’s everywhere, it’s a weed, really. You smoke the leaves. Sometimes, it makes you trip for a few days. Other times, it triggers lifelong schizophrenia. Other times still, it just straight up kills you. Wild shit.”

He picks up the syringe, holds it carefully between two fingers as he circles back to Conrad’s side. Posture rounded as the guy pulls for comfort along the chain’s reach. His eyes are still fixed to the floor, but the muscles of his jaw are taught.

“This isn’t datura,” Renee says. “It’s not gonna drive you crazy, at least not permanently. I think,” he adds, laughing uncertainly. He can brush it off as a play on ignorance about the drug’s potency, but it’s a bait and switch. In reality, DMT isn’t all that - Renee just doesn’t know what to do.

How long is he supposed to wait for that feeling to reappear? The focus is lost, and in its place is this razor sharp amalgamation of everything and nothing at all. He can’t think.

They’ve gotta see through the act, whoever’s watching. Isn’t it fucking obvious?

Back at the fixture in the wall, he briefly pockets the syringe to haul the chain down further. The unmistakable whine from Conrad as his hands are forced upwards, arms stretching out behind him. Gasps of pain, an effort to writhe free that dissipates as he curls further forward to ease the strain on his shoulders. Soon enough, he has to stand on his toes, arms raised to the extent it looks unnatural, and Renee knows that if he keeps going, Conrad’s shoulders will both dislocate. He secures the chain then, and spends a few moments just circling, watching. Pretending.

Conrad is shaking again. The occasional jerk doesn’t seem intentional, it’s always followed by a small groan. The swelling of his face is starting to creep towards one eye, threatening to force it shut. Dried flakes of blood crack at every grimace, and the parts of his skin that aren’t dark red instead have a sheen, as beads of sweat spring from his forehead, his upper lip.

“Already out of breath, huh…?”

With all his energy spent keeping his weight off aching shoulders, it seems none can be spared for a flinch when Renee digs the syringe into Conrad’s shoulder.

Renee pushes the plunger in, slowly.

Halfway down, he hesitates. Eyes flickering.

Fuck it.

He pulls the needle out, quickly. As he trails backwards toward the camera, hands obscured from view, he drives the needle through the palm of his leather glove and bottoms out the plunger. Doesn’t feel it pinch, but he’s not sure he even would, it’s all muddled. He spins around again, grinning, and makes a show of brandishing the empty syringe to the camera before he tosses it away.

It's not penance, it doesn’t right his wrongs, and he’s not trying to dilute that fact; but maybe half and half is only fair.

Fair. Even as he picks the bat up, drags it along the floor, sees the distressed glances from the victim he circles. Fucking fair. Even as he raises it, and places the end in the middle of Conrad’s back, and pushes down.

A hoarse cry, but it’s wordless, so Renee increases the pressure. It finally draws out a “Stop – don’t.”

Renee snorts. He stops, only to come around and, drawing the bat in a wide arch behind him, he swings. The dull thud as it contacts Conrad’s abdomen, driving the wind out of him, doesn’t seem to hurt as much as the resulting full-body jerk. He trips in place, hands behind him open claws, body seizing, before he finally manages to heave in a breath. One proper cough, and a series of others that are suppressed to keep as still as possible.

The onset following an intramuscular injection is two minutes. Renee spots it in Conrad before he feels it in himself. As he circles, Conrad finally forgets the stoic act and strains to look him in the eye. Something there is dawning. A fear that feels more raw than it usually does, less inhibited. Dilated pupils which keep drifting, from Renee’s face to the bat, and eventually – to the wall behind Renee. His breath hitches in his throat, and he blinks hard, struggling to keep his gaze levelled in the same spot.

Renee brings the bat down again, overhand hit. He aims for the lower spine this time, and he doesn’t pull his weight. Conrad lets out a cry, and evidently fights the urge to not right his posture too much, as if he’s split between the pain in his back and the one in his shoulders. His voice creaks. “Please s-stop, please stop, it hurts, okay, please—”

Renee watches Conrad’s wide eyes drift again, and it’s strange. The guy keeps mumbling in that fragile, pleading way, and while it’s still presumably directed at Renee, his focus seems to be on the wall entirely.

“It hurts, okay, it hurts, it hurts—I didn’t—don’t hit me, don’t—”

He would’ve laughed. Perhaps in a past life, perhaps if he hadn’t felt it. He feels drunk, but not drunk. It’s the same lack of orientation, but missing the vital buzz. He raises the bat. He brings it down. He hears the cry of pain, the begging. Nothing.

“Stop, just stop, oh my god, please just stop—”

Whenever Renee moves, or breathes, or blinks, it feels detached, like he’s standing on one end of a tunnel, viewing reality through the pinhole at the other end. He brings the bat down, it draws out a scream, and this sequence is repeated ad nauseum, but nothing happens.

He brings the bat down, it does nothing, nobody’s there, he’s not even doing anything, he’s been dead for a while, his corpse is baking in the sun, the light is blinding, he can’t see, he doesn’t feel it, he can’t feel a thing, the sun isn’t even there, there is no sun, there is no tunnel, there is no corpse, there is no bat, but he brings it down, he doesn’t pull his weight, it’s what they want, he can be cruel, he brings it down –

It’s not until he hears the scream that Renee realizes the hollow thud of the bat against flesh was accompanied by another sound just then – a low pop of sorts, but wet-sounding, almost soggy. Gritting his teeth, he stumbles a few steps backwards, but the noise follows him, and Conrad is writhing. Something about his arm, gleaned from cries that all mesh together, the inarticulateness of his agony. The sound loops around the room like a vortex, deafeningly loud, amplified by itself like an endless feedback loop. Something about his arm.

The room is so hot. Nagging, pulsing.

Renee isn’t seeing things, but it feels like he might as well be. Feels like he’s frantically scrambling to scoop up all the fragments of something that shattered. Disorienting, nonsensical, churning. The bat slides from his palm, hitting the floor with a thunk before it rolls off to the side. He locks his hands over the nape of his neck, pacing, struggling to not fold forward, stomach lurching. He shakes his head in the hopes it’ll dislodge whatever fucking clot is causing it. He feels like a lump of butter sliding around a frying pan, slowly melting – of all the images he could’ve come up with, that’s the one that pops into his head. The ground underneath him is slippery, and whatever part of him hasn’t dissolved yet, under this kind of heat, it will.

In his periphery, Conrad’s bare feet shift. His bad leg is only supported by the toes, while the knee of the good leg bearing the brunt of his weight is visibly shaking from exertion. The strain of his body, the sweat collecting on his shirt, the blood coagulating on the floor. One shoulder is dislocated. One has to assume, given the strange way it dips in at the edge of his collarbone. Grotesque, gross-looking.

Renee lets his arms drop to his sides, shuts his eyes. Stands there for a few moments, panting, head bowed, just treading water. The fan of the server whirs dispassionately.  The spotlights are hot on his back. A drop of sweat trickles down his right side, over the soft protrusion of the bottom of his ribcage. It feels like an ant snuck under all the black layers and is now crawling over his skin. Strange how the sensation stands out so much when others fight harder for dominance. The pain in his elbow, the nausea, the overwhelming bewildered sense of urgency. The ant, crawling.

Gasps for air, the creaking of exhausted pain, interspersed with the clicking of the chain at every attempt to reposition a trembling body in a way that might bring relief. Renee hears the pause, the effort to swallow, followed by a high groan, too drained to even sound afraid anymore. Groan after groan after groan.

Fuck it. Fuck it. Fuck. Fuck.

Renee opens his eyes. He moves quickly; he has to.

His hands shake too badly to hit the camera’s button on the first go, so he sets his jaw and yanks out its power supply instead. He doesn’t spare a glance in Davin’s direction. Nor Conrad’s, as he resolutely crosses the floor. He has to pull the chain down a bit to free the link from the fixture in the wall, prompting a scream from Conrad, which turns into a yelp when the chain is freed, and Renee lets it go entirely. Conrad crumples to the floor like a ragdoll, with no chance of bracing himself for the landing. Doesn’t make a sound when he hits; maybe he blacked out.

Renee doesn’t stop to check the aftermath. He rips the balaclava off his head as he storms out of the room. Allows himself, finally, to heave for the air he’s been lacking. It’s all static in his head as he stumbles down the stairs, a tumultuous mess of half-finished thoughts, impulses, images flashing on repeat, blood and noise and flesh and screaming, hammering against the inside of his skull. His shoulder slams into the wall when the stairs pivot along their axis, and he staggers down the last flight, tripping at the bottom, landing on his hands and knees. Crawling forward, pausing when his lurching stomach finally wins, and he retches – dry. He lets out a grunt. Manages to push himself halfway to his feet again, but then he hits the wall, slides down, presses his back against the plaster, heaving. Stars dance across his vision, feels like a visualization of the pins and needles that wash through his whole body.

His hands shake so bad, it takes him five or six tries to finally get the button of the glove undone, and when he forcefully yanks the leather off, he hears a seam somewhere rip. Brownish liquid stains his hand, mixed with sweat, thick like honey, and just as sticky. His palm is otherwise spotless. No blood, no injection site.

The needle never breached his skin.

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