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madelynraemunson · 2 years ago

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CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!x reader)

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI | BOOK #2 (S.H.)

Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series (completed)

* loosely inspired by Sara Cate’s “Salacious Players Club” series

🔥 EXTRA CONTENT HERE 🔥

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014** , 015, 016** , 017, 018, 019, 020*

* = somewhat smutty chapters , ** = smut chapters

Summary: 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐓. After getting kicked out by your brother, you have no other choice but to take off your big girl pants and add stripper to your resume. Desperate to pay the bills and support your little sister, are you willing to accept the risks that come with such a perilous profession? With the stage name ‘Shy Girl’, you take the leap of faith, weaponizing your divine femininity to steal the hearts of all the bachelors in Hawkins — including Eddie Munson’s, the owner of Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club.

warnings & disclaimers — slow burn, eventual smut (a lot of it), voyeurism, mutual pining, sexual tension, jealousy, drug/alcohol, profanities, sexual harassment, domestic violence

Welcome to Hellfire.

theme song: meet you in hell by jade lemac “Look me in my eyes. I know that you’re scared. You see yourself and you cry for help. Look me in my eyes. Tell me it’s not fair. If you taught me well, I’ll meet you in hell.”

Chapter 001: Wolves

The Hargroves are cursed. Generationally, that is. One night Billy takes it too far, costing him the only thing he had left... his sisters.

TW — abuse, domestic violence, blood, profanities, implications of infidelity, death

word count: 8.5k words

author's note: there are four different acts to this introductory chapter :) so much foundation to lay down and i spent forever on this to craft it perfectly for you guys. thank you for being as excited about this fanfic as I am releasing it. i hope you all enjoy! -madelyn

tags: @changemunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n

_______________𓆩♡𓆪_______________

"Once I ran to you. Now I run from you."

♡

Duality of man. Mom was always a firm believer in that notion. In fact, she always used to say, "Inside of you, there are two wolves: a good one and a bad one. Depending on which mouth you feed, one will triumph the other.”

It became more evident when she died.

“YOU FUCKING SLUT. GRAB YOUR SHIT AND GO.”

Once identical in every aspect, the differences between you and your brother slowly began to unravel over time.

Being ‘good wolf’ was impossible while living under the same roof as Billy. So you settled for neutral wolf instead. Meanwhile, the big, bad wolf possessed him at age 15, when he realized hitting your father back would get him to back off.

It was 2010, post-homecoming game.

Dad nearly flung Billy into another dimension when he came home. The preferred alternative would have been attempting to reason with one another, but it just wasn’t something that was normalized in the Hargrove household. Communicating with words was a daunting task; but not nearly as daunting as accountability.

“I’M DONE WITH YOU, BILLY. GRAB YOUR SHIT AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FUCKING HOUSE.”

“I’m a literal minor, you can’t do this, Dad!” Billy wailed. "PLEASE!"

Over a football game.

The Friday Night Lights were a staple of Vista Palms High School. That and all of its nacho-eating, pot-smoking, LMFAO-playing, neon-filled goodness.

"C’mon V-P, c’mon, let’s beat S-D!” For weeks Billy had been chanting that mantra. There was no clearer indication that it’s where he would be the night of the championship game. He didn’t communicate it, of course, but it was implied. But still, it didn’t cross Dad’s mind.

Any parent who thought their child was coming home on time — and sober — that night was a foolish one. Especially if their kid was a sophomore with senior status.

“You sure as hell don't act like one,” Dad spat. “Coming home, acting all grown." Little did Dad know Billy was there for community service. Billy was a good student. More than anything he wanted a full ride to a UC, mainly to get away from home. Either that or military. Maybe then, walking on eggshells and being accused of something he didn't do — like drinking and doing drugs — would be a seasonal occurence instead of daily. "ACTING LIKE YOU PAY THE BILLS. YOU DON'T. YOUR MOM AND I DO.”

Dad knew he hit a nerve. It was his signature move aside from alienating his victims to establish control. While the feeling of getting your wings clipped really did you in, reactive abuse was Billy's top trigger, especially when Mom was mentioned. After all, Billy was the one who found Her.

Through glassy eyes and gritted teeth, Billy closed up his fists before mustering up the courage to say, “I’m…not…calling Sue... the operative word.”

Dad snarled. “Like there’s anyone else physically here you’ve reserved that title for?”

Oh.

"This tainted love you've given-"

Billy took the bait, lunging forward to grab Dad. As if on cue, Dad winded up his arm, assuming his usual position. You managed to assert yourself between in hopes of stopping them. Suddenly the back of Dad's hand collided with your cheek, sprawling you onto the couch. Billy watched horrified while you fought to keep your eyes open, growing anxious when all you could hear was the room pulsating around you at the highest frequency you had ever heard in your 15 long years of life. Enough was enough.

One punch. Bridge of the nose. Game over. The control Dad had over you both had ceased.

Billy rushed to your aid while Dad took a few moments to gather himself. It was then his beat-in, throbbing eyes realized that the little boy he mercilessly pushed around was no longer there. His own little Frankenstein had taken his place.

"I gave you all a boy could give you"

"Oh my god, Sissy," Billy cried, crouching down to run a soothing hand through your hair. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," you sniff, wrapping a hand around his arm. "I'm fine, Billy. I promise."

"I'm not gonna let that son of a bitch hurt you ever again," he vowed. "I'm gonna fuck him up and anyone else who tries."

"I love you, Brother."

"I love you, Sissy." The magnitude of power that surged through Billy melted into every neuron in his body, the warmth of its adrenaline imitating a tender — long overdue — embrace. He became fully enveloped in what was like an electric current, its tide higher than any wave he's ever surfed. It became more exhilarating than cruising down the I-5 in his Camaro at 130 MPH, and more intoxicating than any keg of beer he's ever swigged at a Wanna-be Project X Party.

It was the rush Billy had been searching for his whole life.

Every high Billy ever pursued before that rapidly declined in value. He would trade in anything for the static that had encoded itself into him. He felt untouchable, a luxury your father couldn’t afford his wife and children.

"YOU PUT YOUR HANDS ON HER AGAIN, YOU'RE DEAD DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

From that day forward, feeling respected was a freedom Billy was not willing to sacrifice, ever.

"Take my tears and that's not nearly all-"

But now Billy is the abuser, something you never imagined happening given his innately soft personality.

"Oh, tainted love. Don't touch me! Please.”

Slapping. Biting. Choking each other out. Pulling each other’s hair. Calling each other names. Spitting. Throwing things. Who would’ve thought the Hargrove twins were capable of the same horrors as their parents?

Yesterday was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Billy’s voice, like nails on a chalkboard, clawed at your brain in agonizing intervals.

“That’s all Max is. A pathetic little liar.”

“She will do anything for any bit of attention…even whore herself out to all the men in Del Mar.”

“You can get out. And stay out. Since you wanna act so grown all the damn time.”

He became the very thing — or person rather — he sought to destroy. The very person who indirectly, but explicably killed your mother.

And deep down you feared that if you and your stepsister Max don’t get out of that house, you’d both suffer that same fate.

“It's fucking JULY and 90 degrees out!” your sister retaliated. “What do you want me to wear to the beach? Fucking sweats?"

Max was out with friends the night prior. They hosted a birthday bonfire for her at the beach. She broke curfew and got a ride home from a friend. A guy friend. Billy wasn’t having it.

Max always got the short end of the stick. She was an easy target for Billy’s antics. Being the literal carbon copy of the woman he hates the most didn’t make it any better, and neither did taking the bait whenever Billy dealt it to “keep the peace”. Max believes being and acting helpless would get Billy to back down. It was far from the truth. In reality, she was feeding him his supply.

And what a volatile supply it is.

Mom also had another saying: "Anger is just grief with nowhere to go".

So you watched Billy and Max go back and forth with their pickleball tournament-o-insults, shouting at one another to their lungs’ capacity, their dead, black pupils strangling each other mentally while they gathered the physical strength to do so as well. You kept an arm halfway up and torso slightly turned in case you needed to butt in.

“I do this because I love you, Maxine,” Billy insisted. “So just SHUT UP and stop being a little cunt. Okay?”

“You stop being a presumptuous asshole first,” Max fired back. “We’re fighting again — why? Because someone with a penis drove me home? And we broke curfew by 10 minutes? I don’t control traffi-”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he dismissed her. “Just say you wanted some dick and call it a night.”

Classic slut-shaming, as if Billy’s Instagram following wasn’t all models, strippers, and OnlyFans girls.

Before you could even process what was happening, the blurbs of their argument skidded to a halt when Max finally broke. Billy watched in subtle amusement as she screamed, her fist meeting the wall repeatedly out of frustration.

Reactive abuse is Billy’s favorite abuse tactic.

“Someone who’s not guilty wouldn’t react like this,” Billy quipped in a sing-song voice, eyeing the new hole in the dry wall that Max had created.

There was no sense in backtracking if Billy already got what he wanted. Max just needed the last word. Before any of you could process it, an acrylic storage box soared through the air, hitting Billy right in the groin. He roared in agony while Max attempted to collect herself off to the side. She still saw red.

That’s when the knife came out.

One slice to the brow and it was over. To ensure the last word was his to keep, Billy ended up chucking a knife at your sister.

“OHMYGOD!” Max shrieked repeatedly, entering the ‘freeze’ stage of her shock. “OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD, I’M BLEEDING! I’M BLEEDING, THERE’S BLOOD!”

It was then you realized, the little boy you vowed to protect and refused to leave behind was long gone. Dad’s essence had taken his place now.

“You just don’t know when to FUCKING STOP, do you?” you exclaimed, putting pressure on Max’s eyebrow with a washcloth as she wailed. Suddenly it was Dad you were talking to. They had the same apathetic, dead look in their eyes. “I don’t care who said or did what, throwing a fucking KNIFE?”

“Me?” Billy tutted. “You wanna call me crazy, who did that?” He was referring to the hole in the wall. “And who was the one to throw shit first? EXACTLY. EXACTLY.”

While Billy was technically correct, he would never admit to what he did to provoke you two.

“So you can both get out if you’d like. Be my fucking guests.”

You and Max exchanged one look. The look. It was time. You both were ready and now had the green light. Now was the chance to bolt without immediate consequences.

So you and your sister spent several minutes rummaging through your pre-packed belongings while Billy continued to shit-talk aimlessly around the rental you shared. The place soon reeked of cheap bud and gas station gin. Trash bags were soon filled with your favorite clothes and you shoved them into as many of your childhood suitcases as possible. Struggling to see past your tear-coated eyes, you reached for your books, the ones you've hollowed out 300 pages deep to pocket all the tips from your waitressing job, and shoved the loose bills into your crossbody. You’d sort through them later. Lastly, you popped the cap off the bottom of your salt lamp. There was a pre-paid Visa you bought several months beforehand waiting for you. With trembling hands, you grasped it and whispered a gratitude to the Universe before tucking it neatly into the back pocket of your Levi’s.

When it was all said and done and everything was loaded into your car, you focus on the hole in the dry wall one last time.

Never again.

Billy was complacent throughout the entirety of the event. You glared at him while he continued to soothe himself with drugs and alcohol, refusing to own up to the irreversible damage he caused your little family.

“SIS,” Max boomed from outside. “LET’S GO!”

A part of you used to pity Billy, but now his destructive behavior took away any ounce of guilt you felt for leaving him.

You never fought back until you had no other choice. Similarly, and tragically, Billy shared that very sentiment.

Who the villain is in the narrative relied solely on whose lens you are looking through.

It took you by surprise all the time. How could identical twins, who grew up in the same environment, end up so different from one another?

“I love you, though you hurt me so. Now I’m gonna pack my things and go." - Tainted Love by Soft Cell

There are two wolves inside of everyone.

——————————𓇼——————--------

"Are the pieces of you in the pieces of me? I'm just so scared you're who I'll be. When I erupt just like you do, they look at me like I look at you" - DNA by Lia Marie Johnson

The heart-wrenching ballad by Lia Marie Johnson dissolves as you crank the dial to the left. Music is always depressing when Max has the aux chord.

"Did you hear what I said?" you question her.

Max abruptly sits up and reorients herself, attempting to shrug off the trance “DNA” had put her in for a few minutes.

"No, sorry. What'd you say again?"

"Do you need a bathroom break?"

"I'll go at the airport.”

"Okay, but if you change your mind and decide to take a leak one last time, I'll be happy to oblige.”

Swami’s is also an exit away and you’re just fixing for a hot meal before takeoff. But you don’t directly say that. Besides, Max loses her appetite when she’s upset and may only have room for shitty airplane food.

“I’ll just eat on the plane.”

Stale pretzels and flat soda it is.

Despite the decrease in appetite, Max is holding up well. As well as anyone-who-was-nearly-stabbed-by-her-brother-and-is-now-moving-states-away-from-everything-she’s-ever-known-with-her-sister could be.

It wasn’t your first choice to leave California. In fact, you did everything you could to avoid it. But nonetheless, anyone with a conscious and only $4,000 to their name would make the wise decision to move away to somewhere more affordable.

Enter your online friend, Robin.

Working ungodly hours six days a week to pay the bills took up so much of your time that you had no friends in San Diego — albeit high school friends who would have never guessed how you and Billy turned out. Those friends had happy families anyway. They couldn’t hold space for you. Your online friend Robin, who you met on an art forum, however knew your family dynamic and was there for everything. But she lived in Indiana with her partner and was never able to offer you any physical comfort.

You entertained Robin’s idea of moving to where she lives, a small town in Indiana called Hawkins just 20 minutes southeast of the city. Living under the radar to get your ducks in a row seemed like such a perfect plan, but you didn’t want to do so at the expense of Max losing her only support system she had outside of you.

Moving would’ve also meant pulling her out of school, which wouldn’t be possible because Billy was her legal guardian. Now that she’s graduated high school, and today is her 18th birthday, the game has changed completely.

“Donovan texted me happy birthday,” Max reports, finally disclosing a fragment of her inner conscience. “Thought it was sweet.”

You can’t help but smile. "You thought he wouldn’t?”

She refrains from rolling her eyes and shifts them towards the rocky beach cliffs outside her window.

“You know,” you add. “I really think you two could make long distance work. I’ve never seen so much chemistry between two people before.”

Max scoffs. "Yeah right. Long distance with a guy going to Santa Barbara for college?” She fiddles with the strings of the knit poncho resting atop her lap. “I'd be breaking my own heart."

You bite your lip to stop the waterworks. Max doesn’t deserve any of this. She deserves to enjoy bonfires with her skater friends, surf all the tubular waves, and go on all the nature hikes without worrying about her stepbrother’s codependent-fits-of-rage waiting for her when she comes home. She deserves to eat fried funnel cake at the county fair and share a kiss with the boy of her dreams atop a Ferris wheel on the 4th of July. She deserves a San Diego summer, not a summer spent in hiding from her abuser in the middle of buttfuck nowhere.

Max decides to change the subject.

“So what’s Robin like? Your online friend.”

“She’s very sweet,” you breathe. “Been, uh, telling her about Billy for a long time now. Her arms have been open since day one.”

“And her girlfriend?”

“Vicky’s the best,” you insist. “A match made in heaven for sure. It’s like they’re the same person, just different font.”

You get a giggle out of Max. Her laughter during such a turbulent time is like music to your ears. The non-depressing kind.

“I’m really sorry I couldn’t get you a gift this year.”

She side eyes you.

“What are you talking about? You quite literally gave me the best gift of all.”

“Did I? What did I give you?”

“You gave me safety.”

And with that, you give yourself a mental pat on the back, confident you made the right choice despite how foreign everything currently felt. The conversation dies down while you and Max ride on, driving further and further away from the Park and Ride you spent the night at, off Coast Highway, and onto the I-5 one last time.

Boarding the plane is a swift process. Your plane is a two-seater, so Max gets the window and you get the aisle. After receiving your snacks and drinks, you decide to play white noise and dissociate for the next five hours. It’s safe to do so, anyways. Liminal spaces were not something you took for granted.

Meanwhile, Max looks out the window, watching as the world she has come to know her whole life shrinks right before her eyes, before disappearing underneath a quilt of soft white cumulus clouds.

“This is 18.”

Goodbye, San Diego.

—————— ✈︎ ———————

Hello, Hawkins.

“Please, make yourself at home,” Robin incites, trudging through the miscellaneous projects that sit at her feet. “As if we weren’t DIY freaks enough, the pandemic really just amplified that.”

The pandemic was a hard time for everyone. You lost your fine dining gig and abruptly switched to UberEats to adjust to the flow of takeout. Billy couldn’t go to the gym, his happy place, and it took a toll on him mentally. Max broke quarantine multiple times to see Donovan, which didn’t sit well with your brother. He of course lashed out on her and also proclaimed that people like her were the reason why America hadn’t opened up yet.

“And I get no time at the gym!” Billy screamed. “So now I have to do this—”

You learned that a decent lamp costed $70 that night.

That wasn’t your first rodeo though. You and Billy grew up replacing furniture all the time. You two would gather up your money and spend it on replacing whatever needed replacing for Mom’s birthday. She always wanted to make your house feel like a home. Feel lived in. You and Billy thought you were heroes doing it, but it dawns on you now that you two were just babies.

“Oh!” Vicky interrupts. “Before we forget…”

You and Max watch her as she scrambles around, looking for something that she seemed ecstatic about.

“Happy birthday, Max!”

“No way, Kate Bush!” Max exclaims as she accepts the gift, an original Kate Bush vinyl record of her album Hounds of Love.

"Wow," you beam, rubbing your sister’s back. “Way to fuel her 80's hyperfixation, huh?"

“We found this at the thrift store,” Vicky boasted. “Knew we had to get it for ya.”

“It’s the real deal too," Robin adds. "Look, printed 1985.”

“It’s perfect,” Max gushes. “Can’t wait to play it on my Crosley.”

She thanks them both and hugs them before running back to the living room to get the rest of your belongings. You listen as she hums some of Kate Bush’s discography along the way.

You then observe Max as she unpacks her things one by one, slightly peppered with remnants of the California sand and the snobby fee it took to ship it all here via cargo. She then proceeds to sit on the new bed to check the springing quality, testing its bounce factor and comparing it to that of her old bed.

You let out a bittersweet sigh.

Suddenly you're eight years old, doing the same thing at the local motel Mom managed to snag a couple nights from when Dad trashed the house.

You turn to look in the mirror atop your new dresser.

Suddenly, you're Mom. Quite literally. You both have the same wavy blonde hair, scattered freckles across your nose that Billy used to call “stardust”, and the same tsunami blue eyes. It makes it no wonder why you and Dad never got along. You are Mom’s spitting image — and Billy is Dad’s.

Funny how life turns out.

You graze the crows feet at the outer corner of your eyes, realizing now how many years have silently passed you by, and then take note of the stress-defined scars in the form of eye baggage from all the sleepless nights that came as a souvenir.

You’ve put up with so much. For so long. The trauma is starting to manifest itself physically.

Robin snaps you back into present day. "So I was thinking we go to Applebee's for dinner, walk around Old Town, get you guys settled and unpacked when we return, Jenga at night, and then-"

She stops when she sees the horrified expression on your face.

“Hey…” the pitch in her comforting, raspy voice heightens. “What’s the matter?”

Your voice breaks. “It’s…” you manage. “It’s been a lot.”

Robin pats your back. “I know. I’m so sorry.”

Without looking, Robin snags a few tissues from a box laying around and gives them to you. You blot the tears away, careful not to mess up the makeup you had on with the intention to make you look less…dead.

“Sue didn’t even call and wish her happy birthday. Her own mother.”

“I’m so sorry,” Robin repeats.

“Every day I watch Max store her trauma in the box... and just shove it into the corner where it gathers dust,” you continue. “If she doesn't unpack it..."

You didn’t even want to think of the collateral damage you and your brother caused her. A part of you wants to think Maxine has remained untouched from that side of you, but the dry blood on her outer brow was a reminder that it was far too late to shelter her from that.

"You see yourself in her."

"And my mom in myself,” you admit. “Now more than ever.”

You rub your eyes.

“I’m rambling, I know. It’s just… SO aggravating. Max deserves better.”

“She’s handling it really well.”

“We don’t know that. I know Max. She’s a pro at hiding her feelings.”

“She’s being strong for you, like you are for her. It’s very endearing, whether you both admit it to each other or not.”

She rubs your arm.

“For as long as Vicky and I are here, you and Maxine have a soft place to land. We are here for you. Y’all are safe.”

You two glance over at Max, who is now unpacking your Zen Basics Himalayan salt lamp. She sets it on top your new bedside table, a reupholstered one whose old wood was painted over by an earthy olive green, the old hardware replaced by eccentric shaped, neutral-toned knobs. Her Crosley sits on your floor, now playing a track off Kate Bush's vinyl while she stares out the window. Your new view for the foreseeable future.

Can't you see where memories are kept bright?

Tripping on the water like a laughing girl

Time in her eyes is spawning past life

One with the ocean and the woman unfurled

Holding all the love that waits for you here

Catch us now for I am your future

A kiss on the wind and we'll make the land.

Dinnertime comes fast, but you blame it on the time zone difference. You call shotgun and ride with Robin in the passenger seat, catching up with your best friend while Vicky and Max watch YouTube shorts in the backseat.

Robin gives you a backstory of everything you pass on the way to Applebees, from the schools to churches to family-owned gas stations. She and Vicky seem to know everyone by a first-name basis, naming random people off and knowing exactly who that is every so often. You try to stay engaged, but the only thing on your mind is where you’re going to apply for a job.

Robin drives into a plaza next.

"This used to be a mall, but now it's completely empty," Robin continues pointing to an empty building with remnants of a star symbol etched on it. "E-commerce really turned this strip into a ghost town."

"So basically, if I wanted a job, it would have to be any of these food places, an office of sorts, or an off-brand Blockbuster store?"

"Family Video is closing too," Vicky chimes in. "It's sad. But I guess Hawkins needs yet another overpriced coffee shop."

"You could always work at the gentlemen's club," Max jokes, pointing off to the side.

You turn to where she’s pointing and take note of the matte black rectangular building by the Sizzler’s. It didn’t seem out of place, but the silhouette of an exotic dancer with devil horns gave the sinister establishment away. You couldn’t read the name of the club, but a part of you tries to.

Robin slightly turns and nods in that direction. "Oh yeah. I heard the girls there make bank in tips."

“I made bank in La Jolla doing fine dining,” you point out. “Maybe I can do the same thing here. But at a similar establishment.”

“Fanciest restaurant you’ll get here is Benny’s,” Vicky says. “You’re gonna have to go to the city for fine dining. I don’t think the commute is worth.”

“Guess stripper is your best option,” Max nudges you.

You shoot a glare her way. “Very funny.”

"I know, I was joking," she scoffs. "Billy would kill you anyways."

Billy would literally go insane if you dared to work at a strip club. The slut-shaming would never end. Not that he never slut-shamed you anyway. There was always something for him to be misogynistic and hypocritical about.

Then it hits you. Billy isn't here. And you really need the money since in this day and age, $4,000 meant nothing. You peer over at the gentlemen's club one last time as it shrinks out of view the further Robin drives.

HELLFIRE.

-----------𓆩♡𓆪------------

Dungeons & Dragons.

Of course one of the very few strip clubs in Hawkins has to be the dorkiest.

But you understand the vision. Beyond the cobblestone entrance, the veil between real life and fantasy thins.

As you near the club with nothing but a purse and car keys in hand, you notice that there’s already security by the door. You’re surprised to see a leaner guy, tall and slender with soft blonde hair and a soft grin to match. He catches sight of you and greets you with a nod.

��Good afternoon,” he says. “How are you today?”

“I’m good,” you nod. You reach for your wallet and give him your ID. Typical screening process. “Yourself?”

“Not too shabby,” he replies.

He examines your ID card. You notice his surprise when his eyes slightly widen before retracting shortly after. You guess that he was wondering why you are here out of all places. You peer over at his name tag while he concludes his screening. Henry.

Upon verification of your identity, the friendly security guard returns your card to you.

“Let me give you a wrist band.”

He motions for you to hold an arm out. You extend your right arm to him and watch as he gracefully pulls a paper wristband out of his pocket, clasping it into place with the side that read “21+” facing upwards.

You take the time to admire the gentleness of this man. The softness of his face. His dreamy gaze.

“Any weapons on you?”

“Uh…” you stammer. “Just pepper spray?”

A laugh escapes from his nostrils. “That’s fine, my dear.”

“I hope I don’t have to use it.”

“Don’t worry, darling. Under my watch, you won’t.”

Henry gently strokes your hand before motioning you inside.

“Enjoy the show.”

“Thanks,” you smile politely.

It’s a slow afternoon, but granted no one goes to a strip club at 2 PM. The Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club was comprehensively laced with playful innuendos. The accent wall by the entrance showcases an array of chains and handcuffs. Kukris, nun-chucks, and flails all of different variants and sizes are displayed on the walls, the point of balance being a vintage pulp print of a metal puppeteer. On the print, "OBEY YOUR MASTER" is written in edgy bubble letters.

Kinky.

And there’s a bonus of this themed club: the ladies are dressed in cloaks. You watch as beautiful women from all walks of life strut around the joint, leaving the clients with only their imagination to guess what’s underneath the tantalizing, medieval velvet.

There are LED signs that lit up corners of the space, indicating what they were for. KAS’ KORNER: GRAB A BITE, DRAGON'S BREATH: HOOKAH LOUNGE, and POTIONS — the bar.

You catch a glimpse of the private show rooms, or at least what you think are the private show rooms.

The LED sign to those rooms read, "I PUT A SPELL ON YOU AND NOW YOU'RE MINE."

The general seating area for the main event reads VECNA’S LAIR.

The Dungeon Master of this joint thought of every possible detail he could and ironed it into perfection.

Surely, someone who truly plays would adore every aspect of all the details, but it was evident that everyone came here for the same reason:

Girls, girls, girls.

You walk over to the bar to see two men conversing behind it.

One looked to be in his late 20s, with scruffy chestnut brown hair, some tired eyes, peach fuzz, and a patterned shirt decorated in a kaleidoscope of colors — a shirt meticulously calculated by quite possibly a girlfriend.

The other looked like he had another year left before being allowed to be behind that counter... of course judging by the “Hawkins High School class of 2021” on his insulated water bottle in his hand, a cracked iPhone in the other, and Beats with a small basketball sticker on it.

When you appear in their periphery, the conversation between the two gradually comes to a stop.

“Whoa,” the younger man hums. “New face. Welcome.”

“Hi. What do you recommend?”

“In terms of what?” the younger man questions slyly. There’s a timidness to the young man’s spirit, making his flirtatious demeanor somewhat dorky. The age appropriate bartender nudges him.

“Drinks, hotshot,” you refrain from chuckling. “Drinks.”

“Depends what you’re into,” the younger man replies, the slyness continuing. “If you’re into light liquors, Jonathan can make you a mean Cîroc with pineapple juice. But if you’re more into the dark stuff…”

He gestures up and down on himself.

“Then look no further.”

“That was very painful to listen to,” the older one who you assume is Jonathan cringes. “Can you get anymore corny?”

“Ta-ha!” the younger one tsks. “He said could I get any more corny. Can you get any more bitchless?”

“I have a girlfriend, Lucas.”

“Emphasis on the singular sense.”

“Nance is all I need.”

"Nancy is all you can pull," Lucas chuckles. "With that goofy ass shirt, man. Stop playing with me."

So you weren’t the only one who thought the shirt was absolutely ridiculous. It had "Bad Bitch Repellant" written all over it.

Jonathan whacks Lucas with the cloth that was sitting atop his shoulder. You request a double Tito’s straight on the rocks from Jonathan to which he automatically starts to make. Lucas continues to interrogate you.

“As you heard, my name is Lucas. Lucas Sinclair.” He extends his hands to you. “But my favorite ladies call me 'Dark Chocolate'. You can call me, 'The Man of Your Dreams' though.”

You take the youngster’s hand in yours and shake it. His heavy locker room cologne makes your nose swell, an uneven mix of what you believe is Axe and — is that Dior?

You tell Lucas your name then hit him with a, “But you can call me ‘When You’re Thirty’.”

Lucas laughs at your joke, beaming up at you as he does so. Then he nods to communicate a gracious fair enough. The flirting, you could sense, was in good nature, playful.

“It was worth a shot,” he shrugs. “Do you have a younger sister by any chance?”

“Oh in your dreams, mister.”

Jonathan chuckles and rubs Lucas’s back.

"That’s enough man, can you go buss that table over there?"

Lucas gives a thumbs up before putting his Beats on and walking away. You divert your attention back to Jonathan who is now done with making your drink.

“Alright… I got a Tito’s double shot — straight — on the rocks,” Jonathan announces as he slides your vice on over. He studies you as you take the drink and request to keep the tab open. “I’m inclined to ask. Are you okay?”

When you’re not around Billy, you wear your heart on your sleeve. It wouldn’t hurt to trauma dump on a stranger. Especially one who asked.

“Pretty far from okay,” you answer before chugging it. “Can’t you tell? It’s 2PM and I’m consoling…” You slosh the drink around in your hand. “…my man Tito.”

“I see that.”

“It’s been a long day,” you continue. “It’s my second day in Hawkins so I thought I’d scope this place out. Dilly dally for a bit.”

“Second day?” Jonathan questions. “As in…ever?”

“Yeah, just moved here.”

The bartender looks around as if he’s missed something. “But…why?”

It’s a fair reaction. If the welcome sign is correct, Hawkins only has a population of 1,314 people. 1,316 now including you and Maxine.

“My friend lives here and convinced me to make the move,” is what you explain, though it only seems to make Jonathan more confused. “Couldn’t take the heat Cali was dishing out. Hawkins seemed like the perfect place to slow down.”

“Oh man,” Jonathan mutters. “California to here, what a change.”

“You lived here long?”

“Lived here my whole life,” he answers as a matter of factly.

“What made you get a job at Hellfire?”

Jonathan didn’t have to think. “I love booze.”

You laugh together, raising your half-empty class to clink his invisible one.

“I hate 9-5s,” Jonathan draws on. “Working from home ‘bout damn near drove me insane, don’t know how my mom does it with such ease. My boss here smokes me out on occasion and my friends make me nachos.” He smiles. “Can’t think of anything better.”

“There we go.”

"I’ve also just been looking out for women my whole life," he adds. "Bout time I get some financial compensation for it, no?"

“Amen to that,” You chug the last of your drink. “Thanks for your service.”

"Pleasure is mine. Anything else I can do for ya?"

You think. "Hm, probably not you, but maybe the hiring manager can do something for me."

"You're looking to work here?" he clarifies as you nod. "Oh sweet, you're going to wanna talk to Eddie. He's the owner."

"And a dweeb," says a significantly younger looking fellow as he slides into the conversation.

“Here we go.”

In front of you now is a gentleman around Lucas’s age with wild curly brown hair. You watch as he helps himself to a club soda, dunking three large wedges of lemon into his cup as well.

The guy offers you a playful, pearly white grin. “Eddie may own a nice club with some smokin' hot babes, but he's got no game whatsoever."

“Hey Dustin.”

“Sup, man.”

“You think so?" you challenge him.

"I know so,” the boy who you now know as Dustin insists. “Can't talk up a chick to save his life."

"Yeah," Jonathan says, half-jokingly. "He's the bitchless one."

Dustin glances between you both, slightly puzzled.

You shake your head. "No way."

"I wouldn't say he's that bad," Dustin says. "I actually think he's seeing someone casually. But in general, dude's got zero rizz."

"Projecting are we?" Jonathan nudges him.

“HELL. NO.” Dustin booms. You attempt to refrain from laughing. “My game is what got me the baddest gal at science camp. Eddie? Clumsy as hell, stutters on his words, he's got the anxiety level of someone who drinks cold brew on an empty stomach… Now that I say it out loud, I think he does drink cold brew on an empty stomach. Some chicks dig it though, which is good for him.”

Curly was fun to observe. Once he’s done talking down on the club owner, Dustin politely walks over and shakes your hand, bowing to you like you’re a princess of sorts. You later find it that like Lucas, Dustin works as a bus boy and server, and his girlfriend makes sure that he remains in Kas’ Korner at all times. Dustin has about two years left before legally being permitted behind the POTIONS bar, but that doesn’t stop him from using it as his own storage shed.

You watch as he grabs some deodorant and hair pomade from an old shoe box under the counter.

“Anyways, later,” Dustin holds up a peace sign, starting towards the door. “I'm not on today, I'm just hitting the gym with Steve."

“Later, man!” Jonathan calls after him.

“Deuces. Say hello to Dark Chocolate for me.”

Before he could get any further, the loud swinging of a door closeby causes him to halt in place.

“ALRIGHT!” a loud, gruff voice booms from that direction. “Which one of you shitheads forgot to take inventory on the 10th?!”

You can’t help but turn your body towards the ruckus. And to your own pleasant surprise, you don’t regret it. Emerging from the door comes the possible shift lead, a tall and broad man with medium length wavy brown hair, chocolate-colored, youthful doe eyes that contradicted the deep lines on his face, bleach white Chuck Taylor’s, ripped black jeans, and a Hellfire Club baseball tee with the logo smack-dab in the middle.

The man looked to be in his mid to late 20s, with an assertiveness in his stride. His lips, a perfectly formed bow with a smirk-like undertone. The cool rings that rest upon his fingers look icy as they sway at his side, shining in contrast to his dark clothing.

The man is too tunnel-visioned to see where he was going. But that doesn’t stop Dustin from looking absolutely mortified.

“The 10th and the 11th,” the man clarifies. “So for all we know, we might need new kegs and ground chili, which is one more thing I have to d-”

Finally he looks up, with you being the first thing he sees. Proximity taking him aback, he snaps out of his stress-induced trance and softens up at the sight of you. You meet his eyes, big and beautiful with long wispy lashes and you can’t help but mimic the flutter in your heart in the form of a smile.

“Whoa.” He says, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Whoa, indeed.

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s Eddie’s first day back, he tends to get a little in the zone,” Dustin explains.

Eddie.

Does that mean…

“Are you the hiring manager?”

You didn’t know who you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the man in front of you. He must be proud of himself, having such a successful business so early in the game.

Eddie gathers himself quickly.

“Dungeon Master, hiring manager, manager, owner, sanitations, re-stocker,” Mr. Jack-of-all-trades confirms. “I do it all.” He grimaces at Dustin. "Since you know, some people don't wanna work."

"You said I can have off!" Dustin exclaims defensively. "I worked for you before the weekend already and I wasn’t even on the 10th and 11th, fuck outta here."

All it takes is a scowl his way from the boss and Dustin is radio silent. The look on Eddie's face definitely said "Watch your tone". Eyes are all on you once more soon after.

Eddie’s gaze softens when he looks at you.

“Were you…looking to apply?”

“Yeah,” you reply sheepishly. “As a dancer. I’d like to perform here.”

“You don’t sound too confident.”

“Some guys like shy girls,” you shrug.

He laughs, a dark honey kind of laugh that just oozed from the back of his throat. “That they do.” His voice deepens drastically. Eddie studies you. “Any dancing experience?”

“Dancing, yes.”

“Stripping experience?”

“None.”

“Hm,” Eddie says. “What do you have experience in?”

“I danced for a bit…I have good core strength,” you explain vaguely. “And I’ve worked in the restaurant industry so I’d say customer service is my superpower.”

Eddie soaks in the information.

“I know how to talk to people,” you continue. “I know the right things to say. Favorite pass time is upselling drinks. And dessert…”

You wait for Eddie to take the low hanging fruit. He doesn’t.

"Any experience with the pole?”

Your cheeks grow hot. You decide to lie.

"No.”

“Kinda essential for this profession, sweetheart.”

"I know," you respond humbly. "I wouldn’t doubt it for a second..." you scan the room. “So uh, do I need a permit to perform here?”

“Nah, Hawkins is a lawless wasteland pretty much,” he sighs placing his hands on his hips. “And my club does things a little different anyways. The ladies also don’t pay to perform, we pay them to.”

Shit. Strippers pay to perform at venues?

“The dining experience is what brings the base revenue in,” Lucas explains, returning from wherever he had been. “The ladies are a luxury.”

“And should be treated as such,” Jonathan chimes in.

“I take it you don’t work at any other clubs?” Eddie questions judging by your wide eyes attempting to take in every bit of information that has been dumped on you. The man sees right through your mask.

“No, but I-”

“I personally like to give everyone a chance,” Eddie says. “So don’t worry babe, you’re good. Even though you don’t have any experience, your energy tells me that you have potential. Wanna show us what you can do?”

Your heart sinks. The handsome club owner called you babe. And you’re also being asked to perform with the little experience you have — in front of girls who had tons of experience.

“Here? Now?”

Eddie nods.

You weren’t prepared to dance today. But with your sister and the mountain of debt on your mind, you are willing to do anything. So you walk over to Jonathan and tell him what song you feel most comfortable performing to and stretch as he takes the time to find it. When all is said and done, you make your way to the icy pillar made of chrome steel that was calling for your attention.

You exhale deeply.

Back to the old stomping grounds. The last time you worked with a pole you were wearing Heeley’s and light up sneakers. Of course in place of the horny spectators there were playground supervisors, and the only “bars” there were monkey bars. Oh, and you were 8, not 28.

The slut-shaming still existed, though. One time a boy told you that you were acting like a ‘hoe’ for trying to do a trick upside down. To Billy’s retaliation though. Before you knew it, the same boy was being shoved down and dragged across the wood chips, acquiring a series of splinters along the way. Admin phoned home. You and Billy got spanked. But, of course, Billy had no regrets. While you both cooled off together, you remember him grazing your hand, telling you he’d beat that kid up “a gajillion times over”.

He kept that promise. Except as you two grew older, it was you he was doing it to. A gajillion times over.

You laugh at the bittersweet nostalgia.

“Whenever you’re ready, babe,” Eddie says.

You give Jonathan a thumbs up to play your song selection. Soon, Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club is filled with the catchy, seductive tune that is Layla by Eric Clapton.

You start with a small stroll around the pole. Then a dramatic dip to flaunt your bouncy golden locks. Soon, the women of Hellfire gather around with the men following soon after to watch you work your magic in Vecna’s crowded Lair.

If muscle memory is in your favor, they are in for a good show.

What will you do when you get lonely

No one waiting by your side?

You've been running, hiding much too long

You know it's just your foolish pride

Eddie claims a seat at a throne directly in front of the pole. He studies your technique, your movements, your facial expressions. You aren’t sure if reality is projecting onto you or if you’re dizzy from all the spinning, but you almost see a slight smile spread across the club owner’s face. It prompts you to keep going.

Layla, got me on my knees

Layla, begging, darling, please Layla

Darling, won't you ease my worried mind?

It’s a lot harder, your techniques and tricks. Most likely since you weigh more than 50 pounds now and had to exert more energy to keep yourself balanced an aligned. But nonetheless, you persist.

Tried to give you consolation

Your old man had let you down

Like a fool, I fell in love with you

You turned my whole world upside down

You buck your hips upward from you back arch to go into an upside down position. It earns you some hooting and cheering from the crowd.

“You better work, mamas!” a dancer cheers.

“I KNOW THAT’S RIGHT!”

“YOU GO GIRL!”

“YAAAS!”

Layla, got me on my knees

Layla, I'm begging, darling, please Layla

Darling, won't you ease my worried mind?

Eddie watches intently, leaning backwards with his hands clasped forward. You feel his eyes burn through you, from the top of your head down to your toes. You feel as if he’s mentally scoring you like you’re at a competition, but the sisterhood that cheers you on makes you feel slightly less intimidated.

“SHE’S SO GOOD!” comes a high-pitched voice in the crowd. “I FREAKING LOVE HER!”

You turn to look at your own personal cheerleader, a bright-eyed cute little redhead with pigtails with an outfit that looks like an ode to Britney Spears’ “Hit Me Baby One More Time”. She has cherry hair ties that hold her two pigtails at the bottom.

You watch her clap and jump up and down, cheering you on with a beam in her eyes that made you feel like your souls have been friends for decades.

Motivated to attempt more risqué moves, you jump into the splits before kicking your legs around to end on your knees.

Clapping and whistling erupts from the lair. Once it dies down, Eddie stands up, offering you a delighted series of slow claps as he makes his way towards you.

"That was really good, Shy Girl. I like how you finished your set."

“Aw, thanks Eddie.”

He walks around you.

"Go like this?" Eddie does a stretching motion, lifting his hand up.

You imitate him and reach up.

"Okay, and... turn like this? Then pop your ass out a bit more."

The word rolled off the club owner's tongue like it was nothing. It was done in a way that was professional, a hint of respect in his tone with no sort of ulterior motive.

You swallow hard, attempting to internally tame the goosebumps on rising upon your skin. He’s just giving feedback, he’s just giving feedback. This is a professional line of work.

You do as he says as he circles around you, fingers grazing on the cool floor of the stage just inches away from your thighs. He taps them in thought.

"For a beginner you’re pretty damn good,” he says.

“Yeah?” you look up at him and smile.

“Yeah,” his voice deepens. “You’re a natural. All that shyness just went away.”

Well, it’s about to return, you think to yourself.

“Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”

“Not in this specific setting.”

There’s a slight shift in his eyes as his imagination wanders. The dimples at the side of his mouth concave slightly.

“I gotcha.”

Eddie clears his throat. “So uh, when can you start?”

Today is Wednesday. You have tomorrow, Friday, and the weekend to settle you and Max in and make any last minute stops. Then the appointment with the other loan officer and DMV appointment on Monday. Tuesday afternoons are dry — everywhere so that left the earliest you can start as

"Next Tuesday? In the evening?"

A soft snort escapes from the club owner’s nose.

"Driest night of the week," he comments, looking around his club.

He turns back to you.

"But a good time for orientation. Works for me, Shy Girl. Can I call you that?”

You smirk. “So I got the job?”

He nods.

“Then you can call me what you want,” you smile shaking his hand. “In this case I’m Shy Girl Hargrove.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he smiles. He knows you’re flirting. Eddie accepts your hand and shakes it firmly.

“Eddie. Pleased to formally meet you. And welcome to Hellfire.”

You two exchange contact information for professional purposes before he leaves. You study Eddie as he sees himself out, planting a firm, teasing smack on Lucas’s stomach on his way and whispering something to Jonathan as well.

Your cheerleader from the crowd excitedly makes her way over.

“I know a dancer slash gymnast when I see one,” she chirps. “I’m Chrissy. Stage name is Cherry.”

You two shake hands and exchange further compliments with one another. Your heart swells when you realize you’re slowly starting to find community.

“It’s so nice to meet you.”

Others come and say hello, but you’ve tuned out all the faces because all you can think about is Eddie. His demeanor. The way he carries himself. His presence alone was something so intoxicating that it lingered around the place in his absence.

Your heart flutters.

“Oh, Hargrove!” Jonathan says. “Before you go I just wanted you to know that you don’t have to worry about the drink.”

“Oh?” you respond. “No?”

“Eddie says it’s on the house.”

You smile and Jonathan returns the favor, making sure you see him when he voids your entire tab. As you wave bye to all your spectators, you release a grateful sigh. You felt very humbled about this new, yet unexpected beginning.

The happiness soon wears off when the events that just unfolded dawn on you. Suddenly, the flutter in your heart moves to your stomach, settling in a way that feels eerie. The unknown is pestering you again. Wrong, but oh so right and necessary.

You take in the area around you. You have a place to call home. You’re a stripper now. Your boss just bought your drink. You’re going to have money coming in. Oh, and YOU’RE A STRIPPER NOW.

Then it dawns on you. You need to go shopping.

#Spotify #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things 5 #hellfire club #Eddie munson fan fiction #Eddie munson fics

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gtwscratch · 4 months ago

Note

hey scratch :D

guess who finally got names for simulations and am now writing it since they dont know what to do with 012

yep its me-

heres the list of names:

simulation alpha (i really liked the idea you gave me, this was to see the development of the 14 subjects they have and how they react now meeting the others)

simulation mania (introduces the mania injection or as the subjects call it ‘the boogeyman’)

simulation soulink (linked subjects together due to other simulations showing they hgavce potential to work together)

simulation infinity (meant to see how subjects work under the pressure of time)

simulation enigma (testing secrets and task completion)

simulation beta (a shorter version of simulation alpha just an ability check honestly)

simulation wildcard (just forcing the subjects into absolute chaos)

sorry again you’re still my go-to

These are all genius names. I don’t think I could’ve come up with something that cool if I was the one making these.

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inposterumcumgaudio · 7 months ago

Text

Poedit Cut/Unused Content: Crones

Crones_1

000 PC_Sal All right, I have my pituitary extract and my amalgam. I need to replace the safrole and the mephedrone. How do I get those?

001 PC_Sal The weird sisters! They're always making potions and things out of herbs. I bet they could help me.

002 WellF Is the place still secret?

003 WellF Secret and swept and deep

004 WellF Who will call the Maiden?

005 WellF I have called her; she is here.

006 WellF Who will call the Mother?

007 WellF I have called her; she is here.

008 WellF Who will call the Crone?

009 WellF I have called her; she is here.

010 WellF Seven times four the Sun hath fell

011 WellF Now the prophecy fulfill

012 WellF Let the hurly burly quell

013 WellF Let her come forth, if she will.

014 WellF ‘Tis time, ‘tis time, she comes

014a PC_Sal Hello? Nimue? Vivienne? Morgause?

014b PC_Sal I could swear I just heard them! Where are they?

014c PC_Sal How do they do that?

015 WellF All hail Sally Boyle, mistress of alchemy!

016 WellF All hail Mistress Boyle, who knows the secret of maternity!

017 WellF All hail Mistress Boyle, who seeks the other shore!

018 PC_Sal I keep forgetting - you know my secret.

019 WellF We drew down the Moon!

020 PC_Sal You drew down the Moon?

020a PC_Sal This potion will help your daughter sleep.

020a WellF This potion will help your daughter sleep.

020b WellF She won't get hungry as quickly.

023 PC_Sal In fact … I came here for some ingredients I need for some … well, drugs.

024 WellF We'll help you with what you want. But first, learn what you need. You don't even know what that is!

024a WellF Before the learner attains wisdom, the teacher has the right to give several tasks.

024b PC_Sal Several.

024c WellF That's how it works, yes.

024d PC_Sal All right…

029 PC_Sal When will I see you three again?

029a PC_Sal When will I see you three again?

030 WellF When you know what is unknown!

031 WellF Anon, anon!

Crones_1_Chanting R_0 Is the place still secret?

Crones_1_Chanting R_1 Secret and swept and deep.

Crones_1-Chanting R_2 Who will call the Maiden?

Crones_1_Chanting R_3 I have called her; she is here.

Crones_1_Chanting R_4 Seven times four the Sun hath fell,

Crones_1_Chanting R_5 Now the prophecy fulfill.

Crones_1_Chanting R_6 Let the hurly burly quell,

Crones_1_Chanting R_7 Let her come forth, if she will.

Crones_2

001 WellF Who approaches the sacred circle?

002 WellF A maiden!

003 WellF A mother!

004 WellF A wise woman!

005 WellF Wise and yet not wise.

006 WellF Yet count them: One, one and one make one.

007 WellF One who is three comes near

008 WellF Three who are one await

009 WellF Tis time, 'tis time, she comes!

020 WellF This recipe cannot cure your daughter.

021 WellF But she'll be stronger. You'll have more time to save her.

022 PC_Sal Wait? What? Gwen's not sick!

022a PC_Sal Wait? What? Gwen's not sick!

023 WellF Um…

024 WellF Can't hurt.

025 WellF The magic will help her whether she is well or ill.

026 PC_Sal I… don't know that I believe in magic.

027 WellF What else is left to believe in?

028 WellF The potion isn't magic. It's herbalism. Your Mum knew herbs pretty well, didn't she?

029 PC_Sal Yes. Especially what you can do with foxglove.

029a PC_Sal Yes. Especially what you can do with foxglove.

030 WellF Have you tested magic and proved it wanting? Or have you simply assumed that what you don't understand can't be true?

031 PC_Sal I suppose I … haven't tested it.

032 WellF Then do this, if you like: we place our sacrifices in a chest in the wilds. I'll put the place on your map. Put some bricks in the chest. And say this prayer.

032a WellF Then do this, if you like: we place our sacrifices in a chest in the wilds. I'll put the place on your map. Put some bricks in the chest. And say this prayer.

033 PC_Sal Bricks?

034 WellF See what comes of it. And then return.

036 PC_Sal But … about my ingredients…

036a PC_Sal I was on Harry Haworth's team when we invented Joy. One day I hope the Goddess will forgive me for that.

037 WellF We'll help you with what you want. But first, learn what you need. You don't even know what that is!

038 PC_Sal Oh, of course the lads are here. Mustn't let the birds go thinking they can do things by themselves.

038a PC_Sal Oh, of course the hooligans are here. They've never liked the Sisters much, have they?

039 WellM We'll have no witches here thank you!

040 WellM We're not scared of you!

041 WellM Ye shall not suffer a witch to live!

042 WellM Monstrous regiment of women!

043 PC_Sal There we go. Five bricks. Now I just say this prayer…

044 PC_Sal Goddess, lighten my burden. Give me the strength to carry what I must, so I no longer need the strength of others. Goddess, I dedicate these bricks to you. Blessed be.

045 PC_Sal Huh. That's it?

046 PC_Sal That's strange. I do feel stronger. Maybe because I'm not carrying around a ton of bricks?

047 PC_Sal I guess I should talk to the weird sisters again.

Crones_2_Chanting R_0 Who approaches the sacred circle?

Crones_2_Chanting R_1 A maiden!

Crones_2_Chanting R_2 A mother!

Crones_2_Chanting R_3 A wise woman!

Crones_2_Chanting R_4 Wise and yet not wise.

Crones_2_Chanting R_5 One who is three comes near.

Crones_2_Chanting R_6 Three who are one await.

Crones_3

002 WellF Did you say the prayer?

003 PC_Sal I sort of feel stronger, actually. I think I can actually carry a bit more.

004 PC_Sal You can't prove it's magic, though. What if it's psychosomatic?

005 WellF So what if it is? you're still feeling stronger.

006 PC_Sal I'd rather you taught me about herbs. I need them, for the drugs I have to make.

007 WellF Patience. You are close to the learning you seek.

009 WellF Our henge has been occupied.

010 PC_Sal The old stone circle? The "Wedding Party Stones"?

011 WellF There's ancient power there.

012 WellF The sacred circle has been polluted.

013 WellF If you can clear it, then we'll teach you about the herbs you need.

014 PC_Sal Well, that sounds sort of fun and righteous. Why not?

015 WellM Do you think it's sweet enough?

016 WellF I was on Harry Haworth's team when we invented Joy. One day I hope the Goddess will forgive me for that.

016 WellF Why don't you taste it? Hah. Seriously, you won't die from just a smidge. It'll just make everything burn a little brighter, is all. Back at the house, we'll give everybody a huge cup of it.

017 WellM It doesn't hurt when we … free our souls from their fleshy prisons. Does it?

018 WellF I think your heart races for a bit, then off we go to the ethereal plane.

019 WellM Why don't we use hemlock? Like how Socrates killed himself. Hemlock doesn't hurt at all.

020 PC_Sal My god. They're brewing poison!

021 WellF Because we already made two big batches of digitalax. Can you imagine if we came back to Reverend Father with a big bowl of hemlock now? He'd laugh at us. Might not even let us come along on the sacred journey.

023 WellF All our questions will be answered once we're no longer in the prison of our bodies. That's what he said, right?

024 PC_Sal It's some sort of suicide cult! I'm not gonna let them poison a whole bunch of people!

024a PC_Sal I guess I can start by getting rid of this batch.

022 WellM I'll just keep stirring then.

025 PC_Sal Now I've got to get rid of this poison.

026 PC_Sal They've still got two batches back at "the house," wherever that is.

027 PC_Sal What's this odd sigil of theirs? Maybe the weird sisters know?

028 PC_Sal Huh. I wonder if I've "cleared" the circle. Shouldn't something have happened? God, now they've got me believing in magic. Still … I have a feeling there's something else to do.

029 PC_Sal What? Is someone here? … That was very strange.

Crones_4

001 WellF You cleared the circle.

002 PC_Sal I could swear something was there. Or someone.

003 WellF There's power there, if you let yourself feel it. They must have had a reason to put the stones in that place.

003a PC_Sal I'm sorry. I didn't clear the circle. I couldn't.

003b PC_Sal There were people there. Wearing these sigils.

004 PC_Sal The people there… they were wearing these sigils.

005 WellF Oh, Lord, the Space God people. Ransom McKenzie's congregation, in Gardner House.

006 PC_Sal They were making "digitalax."

007 WellF In small amounts, it's a drug. More than that, it's a poison.

007a WellF You can make it from red foxglove seeds.

007b WellF We make all sorts of useful potions and things out of it. You could, too.

008 PC_Sal I think their "reverend father" is planning for the whole lot of them to kill themselves.

009 WellF I can think of a lot of reasons to kill yourself in the Garden District. But no one should have their death chosen for them.

010 PC_Sal You know about my mum.

011 WellF I remember; there was a terrible accident. Your mum put the wrong herbs in the family dinner. The whole family died, except you. It was just before the train, so I always wondered. It wasn't an accident, was it.

012 PC_Sal I think she didn't want my sisters to be scared, all alone in Germany. So she killed them. And I guess she didn't want dad to hate her. So she killed him, too. And she couldn't live with herself. I don't know why she left me behind.

013 WellF Here.

013a WellF Mix it into their poison, and it should change from poison, to … let's call it an eye-opener.

013b PC_Sal This is the recipe for … digitalax? And something more…?

014 WellF Come back, and I'll have the rest of what you need. You're making a sort of herbal blackberry Joy, aren't you?

014a PC_Sal You know your chemistry.

015 PC_Sal For ladies who live on a crag in the Garden District, you seem to know a lot about what's going on.

015a PC_Sal For ladies who live on a crag in the Garden District, you seem to know a lot about what's going on.

015a WellF You'll need digitalax for that, among other things.

017 WellF You stopped them!

018 PC_Sal How do you know that? Magic?

019 WellF We can see it in your face.

020 PC_Sal They weren't very happy with me.

021 WellF You took away their sense of purpose.

022 PC_Sal I couldn't let them do it.

023 WellF What your mother did. Do you worry that you have that in you?

024 PC_Sal All the time.

025 WellF To be a mother is to worry.

026 WellM You have worlds within you. Only some are death.

027 WellF Here: the recipes you need to replace the blackberry Joy.

027a WellF You'll need red owl butterflies. Opsiphanes cassiae. They're hard to find, but they're all over the train station.

027b WellF You can use our old butterfly net!

028 PC_Sal Thank you.

028 PC_Sal Oh, perfect. Ollie Starkey lives there… who knows if he remembers me.

028 WellF Well then.

029 WellF Blessed be.

030 WellF Blessed be.

031 WellF Blessed be.

032 PC_Sal This is brilliant. I can replace almost everything I need with botanicals, and the odd butterfly.

034 PC_Sal Where do I get my mercury amalgam, though?

036 PC_Sal It's a byproduct of making Joy. But I can't get into the labs any more. Who can I talk to?

038 PC_Sal_Bill_Hockney Harry Cavendish. He was fired, wasn't he, and nobody would talk about it. Maybe I should pay him a visit.

040 PC_Sal They can't know if Gwen is sick? How would they know that?

042 PC_Sal I better check on her, though.

044 PC_Sal I wish I knew how they did that.

046 PC_Sal Off I go to the train station, then, to catch some butterflies

Crones_Mystery

002 WellM This is our test of faith, my friends. We hate this world, we all hate this world. We hate living in this flesh bag, not knowing our Higher Purpose.

004 WellM But … do we hate it enough? Anyone can say, sure, I hate living in a flesh bag. But then you say to them, "Well, don't, then." And they're scared. They're scared to jump. What if the Pickup Vehicle is not really in orbit? What if there is no Pickup Vehicle?

006 WellM That's why you need to hate, really hate the flesh bag. You have to be willing to not living in it, without any solid confirmation that the Pickup Vehicle is there.

008 WellM Does this seem strange to you? It shouldn't. Jesus Christ said, "For whosoever will save his life shall lose it," Matthew 16. The Hindus seek moksha, liberation from the cycle of rebirth. They all ask us to embrace the next world and to joyfully give up this world.

010 WellM Because, of course, there is a Pickup Vehicle. I've been on it. I've talked to the Transcended, both humans and aliens. Trust me, I would have been happy to stay up there. But if I had, I couldn't tell you the good news.

012 WellM I'm not talking about martyrdom. No one's talking about martyrdom. Okay what I'm talking about might look like martyrdom to the cowans. I'm talking about leaving the flesh bag behind. Throwing it overboard. How can you float up to the Pickup Vehicle if you're weighed down by a bag? You can't. It's ballast.

014 WellM We have to leave the flesh bag and be our soul, be only our soul.

016 WellM This is not suicide. Suicide is giving up. This is taking a leap of faith. We have to have faith that the Transcended will catch us.

018 WellM What else is there? Clinging to the life of this flesh bag until it rots? You've seen what the Blight does to a fresh apple. You know about the plague victims. Some of you have tried to talk to them. What do you suppose this world is doing to you, every day?

020 WellM Well, but, how do we know?

022 WellM We don't. That's the test. That's what makes us worthy of becoming Transcended humans, like the Transcended Humans before us, like Jesus, like Buddha, like Guru Nanak we've talked so much about. If we can see further than your sight goes. If we can feel what is just across the river on the other side, on the other plane of existence. Then they will know we're worthy.

024 WellM And what happens if you don't have faith? What if you don't drink the magic potion that takes us to the other plane of existence?

026 WellM Nothing. Nothing happens. Nothing new. Nothing changes.

028 WellM There's no punishment, except how you're already being punished. There's no retribution, unless you already feel like you're being retributed. You just won't ascend, you don't Transcend. And sooner or later, but probably sooner, the way things are going, your flesh bag dies.

030 WellM But then you're not worthy, and you don't float up to the Pickup Vehicle. Your fleshbag drags you down. Your doubt drags you down. Makes you heavy. You sink into the Earth you've always clung to. You've clung to it, now you get to have all you can eat. And your soul rots in the Earth.

032 WellM We're going to start handing out the cups now. Don't worry, there's enough for everyone, more than enough. But don't sip it, or you might feel sick for a bit. A little might make you queasy. A full cup, and you won't feel a thing. You'll just wake up in a little while, feeling no pain, feeling no gravity, looking down at the Earth from the Pickup Vehicle. And then you'll get to meet everybody up there.

034 WellM They've been watching you. They can't wait to meet you.

036 WellM Let's go, let's get those cups out to everyone who wants some.

038 WellM Once you've had your fill, if you feel like it, you can sing along with me.

040 WellM What are you doing? These people are trying to get to a higher plane of existence!

042 WellM Get out! Meddler!

044 WellM Heathen!

046 PC_Sal You sick, dying bastard!

048 PC_Sal Kill yourself if you like, but you're not taking anyone with you.

050 PC_Sal Pickup Vehicle Service on the Hammersmith & City line has been permanently suspended between Eel Pie and Apple Holm. Please make other arrangements for transport to your final destination.

052 PC_Sal SORRY, THE MASS SUICIDE HAS BEEN CANCELLED. I'M AFRAID YOU'RE ALL GOING TO HAVE TO LIVE WITH YOUR SINS LIKE THE THE REST OF US.

054 PC_Sal I could give them an antidote to their digitalax. But they'll just try again, won't they?

056 PC_Sal Mum made the antidote, didn't she? In case she had second thoughts. But she didn't have second thoughts.

058 PC_Sal Whatever I give them has to give them hope.

060 PC_Sal That's a tall order for a drug.

062 PC_Sal Maybe if I "cleanse the doors of their perception…"

063 PC_Sal They've already started! I've got to get to the poison before they all take it!

063a PC_Sal Fuck in a bucket! I'm running out of time!

064 PC_Sal That's it! That's what they're going to poison everyone with!

066 PC_Sal If I've done this right, they'll realize the world is a lot bigger than the Garden District. Or something.

068 WellM Now, everyone take a small cupful of the elixir we're passing out. You may feel a bit dizzy, that's to be expected. Shortly afterwards, you'll sleep, and when you wake up, you'll be in the Pickup Vehicle meeting some very wonderful exalted human beings and transcended entities.

067 Bobby Erm, the lads 'ave… prepared a little merriment to show our gratitude.

070 WellF Hands are … really beautiful … aren't they? They're like … God's hands.

072 WellF I'd never noticed all the colours. Is this heaven?

074 WellF Life's so… short … you know?

076 WellM This place is … bad. It's a bad place.

078 WellF Why did you want us to die? Why?

080 WellF It's because you want to die, isn't it? You just wanted company.

082 WellM Let's get out of here.

084 WellM We're leaving! You can kill yourself if you like!

088 WellM Wait! Stay! The next world is better than this one!

086 WellM Wait! Don't go! You'll miss the Pickup Vehicle. You'll all miss the Pickup Vehicle!

090 PC_Sal Are you mad, or are you just a swindler who's convinced himself? I don't think I care.

092 WellM Prove it's not true! You can't! You might as well try to prove that God doesn't exist!

094 PC_Sal I think Wellington Wells is pretty good proof of that!

096 PC_Sal Sorry, Pickup Vehicle Service on this line has been permanently suspended.

All of Sally's quests for the Weird Sisters. As you can see, this questline was placed earlier in the original draft than it appears in the finished game. Specifically, you'd be given the butterfly net before finishing "Reservations", meaning butterflies were meant to be an ingredient needed to complete it and you'd have to do "Ex Cathedra" first. They play a bit more with twining quests in and out of each other in Arthur's act (nesting "The English Vice" inside "House of the Inventor" or giving you "Haworth Labs" which can't be accessed until you've done, like, four other prerequisite quests). Sally's quests were apparently edited to be much more linear (excluding "Home Cooking", although that's not twined so much as over-arching).

In this order, the Witches would have told her how to make the mercury amalgam and Harry Cavenish (who according to the filename for the subtitle was originally named Bill Hockney) would only have told her where to find it outside the labs, rather than giving her the formula too as he now does. The lines at the beginning of Crones_1 may have been appended after this change, since a lot of times these subtitle bunches start on 002, not 000.

Ransom McKenzie's ramble was actually supposed to be a sermon with some discussion near the end, but that would have limited the audio design to the church room of the house. It was definitely the better choice to do the audio tape monologue thing instead.

I rather wish they'd have left Sally's lines in about sensing a presence at the Wedding Party stones. Like, it's not conclusive of anything, but it does reinforce that Sally is wise but not wise. Wish they would have left those chants in too, come to that.

Vivienne: A wise woman!

Morgause: Well, let's not go crazy. She doesn't even know her baby's sick.

The reveal that Gwen was sick makes a little more sense this way than it does in the game (as is, Sally just gets a premonition about it after seeing a rat), but that Sally doesn't worry about it until after the quest is complete is a little out of character, but that's why it's not in the final cut.

#sally boyle #the weird sisters #we happy few #poedit #cut/unused content

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or13m · 3 months ago

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Baited Breath, a FNaF story chapter 012

You didn’t know it, but someone was watching you.

Miles away from the colorful warmth of the Pizzaplex and the comforting presence of Sun and Moon, Dr. Luthor hunched forward in a dimly lit motel room, eyes fixed on a laptop screen. The pale, sterile glow reflected off his glasses, obscuring the furious glint in his gaze while his fingers flew over the keyboard.

You weren’t aware of it—drifting calmly in the safety of your tank after an overwhelming day—but the scientist watched your every move through grainy security footage. Each ripple, each hesitant smile, and flick of your tail drew him deeper into agitation.

You were changing.

Your once-frail body was fuller now—stronger, healthier. The bioluminescent glow of your fins was vibrant and shimmering brightly even on the pixelated footage. His jaw tightened. Fazbear’s had been taking better care of you than he’d expected. You were flourishing, becoming more resilient.

More independent.

And that made you dangerous.

He leaned closer, narrowing his eyes. From the hacked camera in the theater, he watched as you swam closer to the tank’s edge, your expression softening as the golden animatronic reached out to you. Even through the screen, Luthor could see the trust in your eyes. That fragile connection that had formed between you and Fazbear’s entertainment bots.

The animatronics.

Sun and Moon—mere mechanical puppets. They were only meant to entertain and distract children, yet, somehow, they were gaining your trust. They spoke gently, interacted softly, and protected fiercely.

They were taking his place.

Anger coiled tighter within him. He pulled up a separate file on the computer. A stolen medical report from the lab. Each word on the screen filled him with a fresh wave of fury, fueling the simmering rage.

Forty-two trials. Forty-one failures.

And then you… The sole survivor.

His most successful creation. The one they’d nearly discarded, deeming you a hopeless failure. But you’d defied their expectations. You’d thrived, surpassing every benchmark he’d ever established. You were supposed to be isolated, observed, controlled… Yet, there you were—free to smile, laugh, and form bonds with those stupid robots!

He stared at the notes he’d copied before abandoning his old job. The scrawled words documented your genetic makeup, your adaptations, and your history in cold, clinical detail. All the records he’d stolen and kept hidden from Fazbear Entertainment.

You belonged to him. His life’s work. His greatest achievement.

He shifted, uneasy as he glanced at the screen once more. On the footage, you were smiling at some unseen interaction with the sunny daycare attendant. Something twisted painfully in his chest. Was it jealousy? Bitterness? Fury? It didn’t matter.

What mattered was that you were slipping away from his grasp and forming bonds you should never have been allowed. He had underestimated the lengths to which Fazbear’s would go to tame you—to humanize you. It made his task more difficult…

But not impossible.

With a few keystrokes, Luthor pulled up your medical charts. They detailed your progression: bloodwork, nutrition, growth rates, and even behavior patters. Everything he needed to reclaim you.

His fingers paused on the keys as he studied your file. Without realizing it, you’d become more than a test subject. You’d become “Star”—a name given to you by those blasted machines. They had offered you comfort that he hadn’t.

He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes as he forced himself to refocus. It didn’t matter. Soon, all that would end. Sun and Moon’s pathetic attempts at friendship, the employee’s careful handling. They were nothing compared to what he could offer you: purpose, structure, and a place at the forefront of scientific discovery.

He reopened his eyes, gaze hardening. He had already found his way into the Pizzaplex’s security systems. Cameras, logs, access codes. He moved, unseen, through the facility’s network like a ghost. He wasn’t merely observing you anymore. He was preparing.

It was only a matter of time.

He would wait patiently. And when the moment was right, he’d reclaim what was his. You remained blissfully unaware, safe within the glowing waters of your new home, surrounded by playful distractions and gentle voices. Luthor would ensure that your peace was temporary.

In the end, you weren’t their star. You were his.

#fnaf story #five nights at freddy's #fanfiction #baited breath #fanfic #ao3 fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #fnaf fanfiction #fnaf fanfic #fnaf sun and moon #sun x y/n #sun x reader #moon x reader #moon fnaf #moon x y/n #sun fnaf

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vey-myname · 1 year ago

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[012] • if you’ll let me | take the stage!

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word count: 3.4k | cw: family issues, mentions of alcohol

time flies by so fast, you didn’t expect it to be friday already. today marks the day that you’ll have your first alcoholic drink ever. you weren’t one to party or to drink so you wanted to be cautious about your tolerance. regardless, you still think that passing the audition is worth celebrating.

your last class has just ended, curse the heavens for allowing a class to end at 7 pm. you had told your mom that you’ll be going home late since you wanted to finish your tasks at the 24/7 study nook near your university so that all you’ll be doing this weekend is to snooze off. but of course, that’s a lie. if she knew you were out drinking with friends, you know it won’t end all pretty. it sucks.

but hey, it’s time to loosen up. you’re in college now, after all.

you were fixing your things when a familiar voice calls out to you, walking towards you.

it was childe.

“how was class?” he greets you with a smile. ever since monday, whenever you two would plan to meet to eat or hang out, childe made it a habit to pick you up from your classes. it was really endearing.

you smile back at him, zipping your bag as you wear it on your shoulder.

“pretty okay. got called for recitation but i think i did good.” you share with him. “let’s go?”

“i’ll lead the way,” childe started walking off with you beside him, exiting the premises of your building and eventually your university.

“i would be lying if i said i don’t feel… nervous meeting your friends for the first time.” you admit out loud to him, fiddling with the straps of your bag.

“don’t be! they’re only mean to me,” childe laughs, his laughter putting you in a sense of peace which made you chuckle a bit. “two of them are really big fans of yours though, so i hope that won’t make you feel awkward.”

“oh, i have fans?” you wondered, looking up at him curiously. you never expected to hear that. sure, your friends, especially jean, always told you that they’re your fans but you always thought of it as friendly support. it caught you off guard knowing that beyond your friends, you do have people who genuinely admire you and your skills. it felt pretty foreign to you but you won’t lie that that also made you feel a bit more confident about yourself.

childe raises a brow at you, followed by a huff. he points to himself as he peers at you.

“what do you call me then?”

“a friend of mine?” you answered, quite unsure about what you were supposed to say. “well, my partner too.”

the last line you added made childe go a bit crazy inside, not expecting to hear that response. moreover, you said it so seriously which didn’t really help his situation.

“yeah…” flustered, childe coughs. “well, if it wasn’t obvious enough, i’m also your fan.”

he proclaims it so proudly, you can see his smile getting smug. you chuckle at him.

“you never mentioned this during our first dinner,” you respond.

“i didn’t want to scare you off…” childe pouts, response sheepish. “but yeah, i’ve been watching your competitions a lot. you’re a really different person when performing.”

“got to impress my mother,” you sigh a bit. “it’s hard when you’re the daughter of a popular person. the pressure is overwhelming.”

childe takes in your reply, surprised to hear your feelings. there’s so much for him to learn about you.

“it must have been hard carrying all that burden, huh?”

“it always has been.”

you two reached the agreed place. it was a bar not too shabby. considering it was a friday, there were a lot of people drinking.

childe ensured to keep you close to him so as not to lose you in the crowd while he scans the place for his friends.

“childe! over here!” kazuha waves his hand, catching the ginger’s attention to which he led the way.

“oh my god…” the twins say in unison, both staring at you in awe. you could swear that they both look like they were going to cry.

you shoot everyone a smile and a small bow.

“have you guys been here for a while?” childe asks, setting his bag down on the chair.

“yeah, you’re fucking late.” scaramouche retorts, fixing his glasses.

“don’t listen to him. we just arrived.” kazuha laughs.

“this is [name] by the way,” childe introduces you as he offers your seat for you.

“hello everyone,” you greeted them, albeit shyly. “it’s nice to meet you all. i’m childe’s friend.”

you thank childe for his kind gesture, settling yourself down. childe sits beside you.

“i can’t believe she’s real…” aether gasps, too busy processing that he’s actually meeting one of his idols. you laugh at his reaction.

“i’m lumine, by the way,” his twin introduces herself. “this is aether, my twin brother. we love watching dancesport competitions a lot.”

“nice to meet you lumine and aether,” you wave at them.

“scaramouche. unfortunately, i’m friends with them.” the guy with the purple hair introduces himself… almost against his will?

“i study at zapolyarny too. i’m a medtech.”

“must be stressful,” you comment.

“exactly. i deserve to drink tonight.” he leans back at his chair, crossing his arms.

“i’m kazuha,” the guy beside childe introduces himself. “i traveled from inazuma to celebrate you two’s success.”

“that’s sweet of you,” you compliment. “nice to meet you all!”

“is venti coming over?” childe asks.

“nobody knows, he might just appear out of the blue.” lumine responds.

everybody continued getting to know each other even after the drinks got served. you learned that the golden twins met childe during a competition while scaramouche and childe became friends since they knew each other from high school. kazuha, on the other hand, was childe’s co-trainee when childe was training at inazuma.

you also learned that childe knew a lot of the coaches and have become friends with them as well. to be fair, during your first dinner together, all you two talked about was the auditions so all of this information is new to you.

“am i late to the party?” your conversation got cut short when a random yet familiar voice cuts in. everyone looked at the source, including you. your eyes widen a bit.

“venti?” you blinked.

“[name]! it’s so nice to see you again!” venti gives you a quick side hug which you reciprocated, happy to see another familiar face.

“we did not save a seat for you, mr. latecomer.” lumine chuckles as she jokes, pulling the vacant chair near her.

“my knees are old as hell, have mercy on me,” venti fake cried, still as dramatic as before.

“why were you late though?” kazuha inquires, taking a chug.

“do college students these days not do pre-games anymore?” venti sighs.

“just say you drank before you arrived here.” scaramouche snides in as he pours himself another round.

“i didn’t expect [name] to be the one to drink though?” venti comments, looking your way.

“i actually don’t drink,” you affirm his statement. “this is my first time drinking, in fact. we’re about to find out my alcohol tolerance.”

“don’t worry, you have childe. he’ll take care of you,” kazuha grins, elbowing childe who is seated beside him.

childe almost spits his drink.

“[name] can i have your autograph on my forehead.” aether requests, slurring his words a bit even though it has just been his second drink.

“yeah…” lumine face palms. “i can’t drink too much, this guy can’t hold his alcohol.”

everybody was immersed in their own worlds, holding conversations with each other. you can hear scaramouche, lumine, and childe bickering with each other with kazuha as their amused audience. aether… you were unsure if he’s still with everyone but you can notice that he’s out of it as he’s staring off into the distance. you were just happy to be there.

with venti seated beside you, he taps your arm gently, catching your attention.

“what about your mother?” he whispers. you can hear his worry behind his query.

you shrug. “i lied to her. i’ll just face the consequences when they appear.”

venti sighs a little at your response. after all, he knows about your relationship with your mother as you opened this topic up before you parted ways with mondstadt’s group.

childe’s gaze flickers over at you and venti, curiosity filling him. he could see venti’s worried look at you, making him wonder what you two were talking about.

a little later on, venti was able to convince everyone to play king’s cup, claiming he was ready and he really was. it was proven true by him showing his deck of cards to everyone at the table.

aether has been sleeping ever since he got his autograph, just not on his forehead. his last words before passing out was “can you make this a tattoo? i need it on my forehead.” seems like he’s really adamant about having your signature on his forehead.

by the time everyone called it quits, venti was the first to leave the bar, not until he greeted other bar-goers. apparently, this is not a new scene to their friend group, even calling him “mx. congeniality” by them.

kazuha had paid for all the drinks even though he only promised to pay for the first round. he said everyone deserved it and that he missed being around his friends. he had to leave as well to help lumine bring her brother home. the trio left an hour after venti left, leaving you, childe, and scaramouche at the bar.

you can see the sour look on scaramouche’s face when he checked his phone before putting it down again.

“your mom?” childe asks, sipping on his beer.

“wished it was,” scaramouche leans over the table, cushioning his cheek in his palm. “guess she just doesn’t care about me at all, huh.”

you silently listen to their conversation.

“i messaged her that i’ll be going home late because we’re out drinking but she just left me on read.” scaramouche added. though he’s masking everything he’s feeling, those feelings in question are seeping through his words.

“i’d rather have her scold me than leave me be, you know? at least i can feel she cares for me one way or another.”

“oh,” you hold your drink close to you. you didn’t expect to have a conversation about mothers out of the blue, the topic that hits too close to home.

“something on your mind?” childe looks your way, noticing your hold on your drink. you shake your head though it was a lie.

“got mommy issues too like me, [name]?” scaramouche smirks. is this his way of coping?

you drank a bit of your cocktail. “since the day i was born, yeah.” you try to humor your own suffering. it’s like his coping mechanism is contagious.

childe raises his brows in curiosity but says nothing in reply.

“bet we’d be great friends than ajax and i are.” scaramouche muses, clapping his hands.

“ajax…” you trail off, your gaze focusing on the man beside you.

the way his name rolled off your tongue made childe feel things that he couldn’t even reply to his friend. it felt too intimate to be called by his name, especially by you. he felt paralyzed.

relax, it’s just some sort of happy crush because she’s your idol, right? childe convinces himself internally.

“yup, that’s me,” childe laughs half-heartedly, trying to mask his emotions.

right?

scaramouche’s eyebrow raises.

“you never told her your real name?”

childe only grins in response.

“you’re fucking lame.”

you share a laugh with them before clearing your throat.

it wouldn’t hurt sharing a piece of yourself, would it?

“we… really do everything we can just to get our mother’s attention, don’t we?” you start off, smiling but you can’t deny the sadness laced in your expression. you were sure they noticed that too.

“i don’t mean to be dramatic nor do i want to paint my mom in a bad light but it’s not all rainbows and sunshine with me and my mother.” you admit to your two companions, both of them listening intently to your words. suddenly, the attention they’re giving you made you a bit nervous which made you take a quick sip from your drink.

“i just want to be good enough for her and for others honestly,” you laugh bitterly. “but at the same time, i want to be good enough for myself too, not minding what other people think.”

they continue to listen silently, chugging their own drinks occasionally.

“in short, i really want to pursue latin but my mother keeps pushing standard for me, saying that i must continue her legacy. but even though i pursued standard, even though i brought home back to back wins during nationals, it still wasn’t enough for her.”

childe blinks, eyes widening when he realizes that everything you’re opening up are the answers to his question.

“is that why you agreed with me when i said you don’t vibe with standard?”

you nodded in response.

“instead of loving what i do, i just ended up hating it. that’s why i took a break from ballroom to at least mend my hatred.”

“well that puts things into perspective,” scaramouche breaks his silence. “i can relate. i only took medtech because my mother said she wanted to have a child who’s inclined in the medical field.”

“what do you really want to take?” you ask out of curiosity.

“i wanted to be a diplomat but what i want doesn’t matter,” scaramouche scoffs. “if taking up medtech would appease my mother then so be it.”

you frowned at his response yet you couldn’t help but to understand why he did what he did. after all, you did the same.

“it’s not selfish to do what you want for yourself too, scaramouche,” you blurt out. “my mother doesn’t even know i’m part of the fatui group now.”

scaramouche only looks at you, brow raised at your words.

“…i know.” he grumbles.

the three of you continue to talk about random matters until scaramouche decided he wanted to go home. he left the two of you together, bidding a quick goodbye. but before he left, as he passed by your seat, he stopped to give you a fist bump. you found that to be quite surprising yet endearing.

with only the two of you left at your table, you play with the orange garnish decorating your glass. seeing the pigment of the fruit, you couldn’t help but smile as it reminded you of the ginger beside you.

which reminded you…

“i’m quite taken aback by you, childe,” you break the silence, looking at your friend. “you’ve mostly been quiet tonight. is something occupying your mind?”

childe chuckles at your question. “worried about me so much, miss [name]?”

you swear you rolled your eyes at his reply.

“after spending tonight with you, i just realized that there’s so much to learn about you,” he answers. “and if you’ll allow me, i want to get to know you better.”

why does he have to be so smooth with his words?

“only if i’ll get the honor to know you better as well, dear.” you respond, unconsciously playing along. is it the alcohol doing its work or is it your competitive spirit responsible for your current demeanor? who knows.

childe rests his cheek on his palm the moment he propped his arm on the table, looking at you intently.

“be my guest.”

you rest both of your arms on the table, arms on top of each other as you return his gaze.

“i answered your question already, though,” you pout a little. “won’t i get my answer too?”

childe huffs, leaning back in his seat.

“honestly, i genuinely don’t know why i don’t compete,” he frankly answers your question. “i just don’t think it’s for me you know?”

“lies, ajax.” you glare at him, unamused by his response.

“enjoying my name a little too much, aren’t we, [name]?” childe teases you, making your brows furrow a little as you felt a little flustered.

“i don’t know if i’ve mentioned this already but i only started doing ballroom as a hobby. competing never crossed my mind.” childe scrunches his nose, playing with his beer’s bottle cap. you watch him fiddle with the tiny metal, waiting for him to continue.

“i’ve had a few issues with some of my previous partners too. they always tell me i lead them on but in my defense, i was only being professional. you know the themes in latin right?”

you nod.

“so it was always a hassle for me to find a permanent partner for ballroom that i can compete with without having any strings attached. you know how vital it can be to stick with a partner until you both decide to call it quits.”

childe drinks the rest of his beer.

“though i can’t help but think that maybe it’s a me problem too?” he laughs. “regardless, i’ve always told them beforehand that i’m only here to learn and have fun. to do my part as a dancer. after all, i know that my strongest points as a dancer are my expressions and connection with my partner so i make sure i weaponize that.”

“to be fair, i agree. you really know how to put on a great performance.” you compliment him, reminiscing about your auditions. it reminded you of how he maintained his eye contact with you as he counted under his breath to guide you.

“i take pride in that skill of mine,” he smirks proudly. “thank you for recognizing that.”

“of course. i can’t wait to learn more from you.”

“that is if the coaches will let us partner up for the rest of the year. they might end up sending us to perform right away if they see our chemistry as partners.” childe chuckles.

“now that’s a reach,” you laugh. “but i’d really love to continue partnering with you. we’ve somehow established a rapport with each other and i think that plays a role in good partnership.”

childe doesn’t respond right away, taking in what you just said. i mean, to be fair, you were right. despite only knowing each other for a week, he can’t deny the connection the both of you have built so far.

noticing the silence, you blink a few times as you realize what you just said. you felt awkward asking him to be your partner out of the blue.

“ah but if you wish to explore…” you trail off.

“no, no,” childe cuts you off, waving his hands in front of him.

“i’d love to be your partner. if you’ll let me.”

there’s only so much you can take honestly and you feel like this is all an overload. way too much for you to handle. you can’t help but be reminded about what diluc and eula told you in your group chat. now, that doesn’t help the situation.

you could only mumble an okay to him, breaking eye contact with him to return your attention to your empty glass.

silence continue to prosper between the two of you, taking interest in the most unnecessary things just to keep your minds off the previous conversation.

“but [name]…” childe gently starts. you hum in response as you play with your straw.

“i hope you don’t have to worry about carrying all the burden on your own. you can always talk to me if you want to let them out. i’ll always be here for you if you need someone.”

hearing his words, you could only hung your head low. you let the strands of your hair cover your face to conceal your expression. childe doesn’t know how much that meant to you.

“…likewise, childe. thank you.” you could only say a few words to answer him, feeling overwhelmed with the events that have unfolded.

it felt weird that you’ve heard similar words of kindness and support and yet this is the first time you felt this way. all warm and flustered. perhaps it was because it’s childe saying them? you were unsure of the answer to solve your confusion.

starting tonight, you decided to just let things play out the way they are supposed to. you accepted that there are so many things for you to know and learn beyond just dancesport.

❀ author’s notes: i didnt know how to end it!! but as u can see i got carried away in writing again 😁

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#smau #socmed au #childe x f! reader #childe x fem!reader #childe x reader #childe x reader smau #genshin x reader #genshin x reader socmed au #genshin x fem!reader #genshin x reader smau

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