#where am i SUPPOSED to keep ice pops)

[fingertipsmp3]

Someone needs to put me down like a sick dog

[yaksha-lover]

Thus Always to Tyrants

Summary: Lilia has always been an enigma to you; slipping through your fingers at every attempt to get close - follows fae!reader’s relationship with lilia from childhood to the war to present day in briar valley

Lilia Vanrouge x Fae!Reader, small background Meleanor x reader hehe

wc: 3.8k

cw: i’m too into medieval fantasy so i created unnecessary lore (clown noises), also i haven’t read book 7 so prob butchered canon, (but spoilers), angst, grief, unrequited (?) love, pining, mild description of war events/tragedy

Even then, he hadn’t seen you. Before the wars and before the bloodshed, when there’d only been long grass to tickle your ankles and azure skies allowing you to guess at clouds, Lilia had never seen you.

There’d always been something, someone, to distract him.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself. It’s easier this way, to imagine that there’s something other than disinterest and disgust keeping you apart.

The forests of Briar Valley are filled with pine trees, their scent so potent you wished you could bottle the air and take it home.

That was where you and Meleanor had met Lilia. You’d grown up in the royal castle, the two of you spending afternoons giggling about the latest court gossip and eating all the sweets you could before the queen could scold her daughter.

That day is one of your fondest memories, and not entirely because of him. The trunk of the giant oak tree was hard against your back, but you hadn’t been able to think about anything but the feel of your princess’ head in your lap. She’d simply closed her eyes and demanded you read to her, dark hair spilling around your legs.

“As you wish, Mel,” you’d agreed, gathering up one of her favourite books.

She’d only popped an eye open to tease you. “Mel, is it? Not princess? Perhaps I should have you punished for such transgressions~” She giggled.

“If I am to be placed in the dungeon, then who will feed you ice cream and read to you, dear princess?” you countered, ruffling her hair.

“Hmm, I suppose your insubordination will have to forgiven…but only if you allow me to remain on your lap for an adequate amount of time. Any sooner, and I’ll have to punish you myself~”

She was temperamental yet whimsical, delighting you as much as she terrified you. Mostly, Meleanor was your best friend. Your only friend, truly. There weren’t many children your age around the castle; you were only there because your father sat on the high council as the master of coin.

After you’d been reading aloud to her for some time, a sudden rustle in the trees caught the both of you off guard. The princess had jumped up quickly, all the combat lessons she’d taken with the head of the Queen’s guard finally paying off.

Out from the vegetation, a short, dark-haired fae who looked to be around your age emerged. He was fitted in what could only be described as rags; torn and stained all over. Despite his disheveled look, you thought he had a certain charm about him.

Meleanor, who’d grown taller than you ages ago, towered over him. It was almost a pitiful sight.

The princess had narrowed her eyes and asked: “Where have you come from?”

“Nowhere,” he’d answered simply, looking down at his feet. “I’m no one.”

That was the meekest you’d ever seen him, no indication of his true vibrant personality.

From that day in the forest, Lilia had been with you. Meleanor had begged the queen to let him stay in the castle, to grow up with you and her as another companion. The princess’ tears worked especially well on her mother, so of course she’d gotten her way.

As she grew up, the princess only became more and more beautiful. You weren’t the only one who noticed, either. The three of you were still young at the time, but Lilia seemed fond and more than fond of Meleanor. The princess returned his affections, but perhaps not with the same intent; she almost smote him when he’d jokingly proposed to her with a ring of grass. It made you angry, for a while. She was your friend first, and now Lilia had come to hog all her time and attention.

It was hard to see your only friend pulled in a new direction, especially one that seemed so far away from you. That was back when you were small; things settled quickly after that, with the three of you falling easily into friendship. There would still be times, occasionally, when you were envious of the friendship shared by Meleanor and Lilia, but it was on both ends. You simply wished to be included, not to have the princess or Lilia all to yourself. That was never a possibility, after all.

As you grew, it wasn’t long before Meleanor fell in love with Levan. You’d been…annoyed, at first, at how fast your friend had seemed to leave you behind yet again.

“You promised to take me flying today, dear princess,” you’d said, trying and failing to keep the gloom out of your voice. “Don’t you remember?”

Meleanor looked up from brushing her hair, making eye contact with you through the mirror. “Forgive me, I cannot turn away Levan…my heart will not let me.”

“But it will let you turn me away?”

She turned now, facing you directly, some of her signature anger evident in her expression. Her violent temper only seemed her grow with her adolescence. “Stop this foolishness! You are my friend, but Levan is my beloved. If you find issue with that, you will leave my castle at once.”

As though you couldn’t feel more humiliated, she’d moved, stopping in front of you and tilting your chin to meet her gaze. “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you’d whispered, wondering when things had changed.

And then she’d pulled you into her arms, and suddenly she’d felt all too familiar again, hugging you and telling you she loved you, asking you to always stay by her side. As her dearest friend.

Being cold to Levan only pushed you further from Meleanor, so you were forced to accept his presence. Once the initial hostility dissipated, you found that Levan was quite pleasant.

If Meleanor was always destined to be with another, then you were happy it was someone as great as Levan, at the very least. With your princess’ time now being taken up by her lover, you and Lilia spent much more time alone together than before.

The first time you had the courage to broach the subject of marriages and pairings had done nothing but splash the cold water of Lilia’s indirect rejection on to you. With how cold and empty you felt, it was as though the shivers went bone deep.

Your father had insisted on looking for a match for you. A political marriage to improve your family’s standing, surely. You had protested and held it off as long as you could, but now his asks were becoming unavoidable.

You’d thought - hoped - that Lilia might be interested. He wouldn’t be your father’s number one choice, but he would still accept it; Lilia may not have been of noble birth, but his status as a respected general amongst the court bought him points. Marrying him would certainly be better than any stuffy old fae you’d be forced to settle down with.

It wasn’t just avoiding others, either. You wanted Lilia, as loathe as you were to admit. He was your friend, a close companion, and perhaps you’d even desired more.

It was difficult to voice to yourself that your affections went beyond platonic when you were not so delusional as to imagine that he felt the same in any way.

No, you felt like an afterthought to Lilia. As though you were merely Meleanor’s friend, and not his own. He wasn’t so kind to you as he was the princess, and the affection he held for her, although now platonic, went beyond anything you could imagine receiving from him. Even Levan seemed to bond with him easier than you had after knowing him for years. It was like he tolerated you more than anything; when Meleanor was off with Levan, you were the only option left.

It shouldn’t have hurt so much when he said he didn’t wish to marry. The ‘you’ part seemed unspoken, even though he claimed reasons of freedom and lifestyle instead of saying anything about you.

Regardless, he’d made the decision for you. Your father would ship you away from the castle, to be married to a stranger, leaving behind your beloved…friends.

At least he would have, had the war not begun so suddenly.

-

If you believed Lilia had hardened his heart to you before, then becoming a war general had hardened his heart to the world. Although it was the last thing on anyone’s minds, had you tried to bridge the gap between the two of you, not only would you have failed, but you might’ve gained a nice scar along with it.

To the untrained eye, Lilia seemed to thrive on the battlefield; swift with strength that went unmatched by any. But you knew better. There was a sense in which Lilia lost himself in action, where he seemed so distant from the boy you’d grown up with; perhaps it was his own way of coping with the horrors he’d been forced to experience, fae he fought alongside being slaughtered. In the end, it hadn’t mattered who they were before the battlefield; nobles and common folk alike fought and fell.

It was torturous to wait out the war in the castle. Every letter that came made your heart race, fear taking ahold as you read through the list of your fallen companions. It almost seemed inevitable that one day Lilia or Levan might appear on the list and send you into despair. Your only saving grace was Meleanor, the two of you keeping quiet company during this time, both not allowed to join the conflict and feeling useless for it.

You begged your father to let you join Lilia; you weren’t the most skilled fighter, but your healing magic excelled beyond any other, and you could hold your own for the most part. He’d denied you until so many had been lost that the queen asked for your service. None of you had known just how close tragedy was, how your departure for Lilia’s camp would mean leaving behind your beloved princess to die.

-

“Go back,” Lilia had growled at you. It was the very first thing he’d said since you’d come to his camp.

“I’m here to help, instead of rotting away in the castle while my people suffer!” You’d followed after him as he strutted between tents, giving orders to the other soldiers.

He’d shook his head, glaring at you. “You’re a spoiled little noble, you know nothing of the battlefield. Go back home. It’s not safe here.”

“I know I’m sheltered, but I’d like to try and help where I can! I don’t care what happens to me.”

Lilia stopped in his tracks, not facing you as he spoke.

“You don’t care? You’re selfish, you know that? What would Meleanor do without you? What would I-” He shook his head. “I don’t have time for this. Go back. Don’t make me make you.”

“Perhaps I am selfish, but what about me, Lilia? Shouldn’t it matter that I can’t possibly imagine a life where we’re not together, fighting side by side?” Your voice goes quiet. “I had a dream, an awful dream. One where you were dead…I’m afraid. I don’t want that dream to become real.”

You’d thought, for a moment, that his hardened gaze had wavered, but the next second, he’d ordered one of his subordinates to take you back to the castle. Perhaps the softness you believed you saw within him was only a trick of the light.

-

You’d been a fool. A fool in grief and despair, but a fool nonetheless.

Meleanor’s death had pulled you away from yourself, made you into some automaton which possessed none of your good qualities, for which you had to wonder if there were any to begin with. She’d been your friend, your only family. You should’ve been with her; you should’ve died with her. You should’ve done anything you could, and you’d failed.

It was only by a day that you’d left the castle and missed the fight that occurred.

Meleanor fought bravely, a knight had told you. And Meleanor died.

You waited for Lilia to come back. To come home to you. Your heart sang, a brief reprieve from all the aching when you found out he was alive; he was all you had left.

He never came, at least not to see you.

You fled the castle. There’d been no goodbyes to your father and no concern for Meleanor’s child.

If she’d been around, she surely would have killed you for your selfishness, but your head swam with grief and so you left everything behind.

-

It had been…surprising, to hear from Malleus. You’d heard amidst your travels that your father still sat on the small council, so perhaps he’d heard of you from him, considering they were together in Briar Valley. Who else would have known about you and your relationship with his mother?

There was General Vanrouge, but he…why would he even mention you at this point?

You’d taken to calling him that in your mind, if only to distance yourself a little more from your past. You heard he’d returned to Briar Valley years after you’d departed, but other than acting as a guardian for the prince and a curious human boy, you had no idea what he was up to.

It was a wonder the world was as big as it was, meaning you’d never run into the general during your travels.

And here, on the desk of your hostel, sat a letter from the crown prince. Your Meleanor’s son. The one you’d left behind.

With the distance of time, a new feeling stirs in your chest. One of unease and shame, yet another failure to the Draconia’s. You hoped the boy was doing well. Would it even be possible to accept if he wasn’t?

Well, he was asking, along with Meleanor’s mother, that you pay them a visit once again. The Queen…you’d abandoned her too, in a way. You dared not hope that she thought of you as another one of her children, but in a way, you’d loved her as a mother.

Heat burned at your cheeks. With your focus on Meleanor, Lilia, and Levan, you’d forgotten there were more people you considered your family. More people that you’d left behind in Briar Valley.

After all this time, you owed them an explanation, no, an apology. You owed them your return home.

-

Malleus greets you at the gates.

You’re stunned, for a moment. Dark locks of long hair sprawled elegantly across his shoulders, two curved horns peaking out from his head. Piercing green eyes that look into your soul.

He’s the spitting imagine of your best friend.

You try to move forward, but a green-haired fae stops you in your tracks, moving between you and Malleus.

“Keep your distance! Have some respect for your Prince!”

Malleus is quick to shake his head. “Leave them be, Sebek. This is Lord Tyrell’s child. My mother’s childhood friend.”

Sebek is quick to step-aside, bowing before you in apology, allowing you to step forward and hug Malleus. He’s motionless for a moment, and you’re worried you’ve crossed his boundaries, before he slowly slides his arms around your back, returning the hug.

“The resemblance between you and your mother…it is truly incredible. Pardon me for getting emotional, but I wasn’t expecting you to look so grown up…last I saw, you were merely an egg.”

He looks at you, smiling gently. “It’s nice to meet a friend of my mother’s. I feel I hardly know anything about her. Even Lilia refuses to speak of her.”

Your heart stirs at the mention of your former friend’s name. “I hope I can provide some memories of her.” You look away from him. “I only wish I could’ve done so sooner…I apologize, Malleus. I should have been here for you, just as Lilia was. I should have taken care of you, not left you behind when you were only a child…”

He shakes his head once again. “You are here now. That is all that matters.”

“Thank you, I hardly deserve your kindness.”

He returns your smile. “It is what my mother would have wished for, is it not?”

-

He leads you through the halls of the castle, but you wouldn’t have needed his help to get around. Every wall in the castle is burned into your brain, engrained with a variety of memories.

The halls are vastly the same as you remember; the same silver trim, the velveteen carpets, and the Draconia sigil hung on banners.

Only one thing stands out as different to you: there’s one more portrait than before.

Normally the Draconia family portraits were done about every century, so it made sense that one had been added semi-recently. This one is just of Malleus and Maleficia, occupying a rather empty-looking frame. Even if you didn’t know about Meleanor and Levan, you would know something was missing from it.

Your train of thought is interrupted by the appearance of a Silver-haired boy. He pauses to stare at you for a moment before smiling.

“You must be MC. Father has told me so much about you.” He bows lightly.

“You’re Silver? Lilia’s boy?” You take his hands in yours. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“And you as well. We’ve promised to help some of the younger knights with their training, so Sebek and I won’t be able to stay for dinner, but I hope you’ll stick around. It would be nice to hear about you from more than the stories my father shares.”

“I’ve been gone so long, I certainly intend to stay for a while. Maybe I’ll be able to tell you some stories of your father when he was younger.”

With a nod, Silver is off.

Malleus leads you into the dining room and you catch your first glimpse of Lilia Vanrouge in over a century.

-

He’s different and the same, all at once. He’s maintained his youthful looks, but his hair has radically changed; cropped and pink, where it once flowed in its red glory.

You turn to greet Maleficia first, bowing in front of her. “It is an honour to dine with you, your grace.”

“Stop that nonsense. Come to me, my dear. It’s been ages since I’ve seen you.”

The queen embraces you gently in her frail frame.

“I am truly sorry,” you whisper.

“It’s already forgotten,” she whispers back. “The past is the past, and we are here now. Please, take a seat, so we may dine together once again.”

Maleficia and Malleus sit at the head of the table on each side, so you take your place across from Lilia.

“It’s nice to see you again,” you offer.

“You as well,” Lilia replies, seemingly at a loss.

The dinner proceeds, Maleficia and Malleus asking questions about your travels. Lilia chimes in occasionally, but he’s uncharacteristically silent. Or perhaps characteristically? You hardly know him anymore, after all.

Once the final course comes and goes, Maleficia stands from the table. “Malleus, let us take our tea in the garden today. I believe these two have a lifetime of catching up to do.”

With that, the two of them are off.

-

“I missed you.” You don’t intend the words to come, but they spill out of your heart anyway.

“As did I.”

You fidget with the cutlery in front of you. “You’re still so formal with me after all this time. Have we truly become strangers?”

“You could never be a stranger to me. Not a day has gone by without you being in my thoughts.”

“And yet you never went looking for me. You returned to the castle only after I left, starting a family, raising Silver and Malleus…”

“They needed me. You know that.”

“You left me. You were all I had left after…I would have done anything, followed you anywhere. I would have helped you take care of Silver, Malleus. But you left without saying a thing.”

“I never knew…”

“Of course you did. Everyone did.”

“Nothing good would have come from us being together.”

“At least you’re finally being honest about your feelings. If you hated me as I feared, you should have sent me away the moment I came.”

“Hate? No, it was never like that. The distance between us…it seemed quite impossible to traverse.”

“Distance? We grew up in the same castle for hundreds of years…”

“That’s not what I was referring to.”

“Then to what?”

“You know how they all thought of me. The senate, your father, all believed I never deserved to be so close to you and Mel-” Lilia takes a moment to breathe. “To you and the princess.”

The mention of her name has you squeezing your eyes closed. Even after hundreds of years, it hurts to remember your beloved friend, her sweet memory tainted with the despair of her death. “Why does it matter what they thought?”

“They never would have allowed it. You know that.”

“No, that’s not true. My father said…”

“He lied. He was the first to send me away after her death.”

“He what? I- I was told you left, torn apart by grief.”

“I was in pain, but I always planned to return home…return to you. But the senate, they declared that there was no place at court for me anymore. That I failed- I failed at protecting Meleanor.”

A short silence rings between you. It’s perhaps the first time either of you have heard her name said aloud in centuries.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I never knew.”

“I never wanted you to. I’d rather you hate me than your family.”

“I understand. But you were my family, too. Perhaps the only one who truly had my best interests in mind and not some political scheming or such. And now look at you: Silver, Sebek, Malleus. Against all odds, you’ve found yourself a new family.” While I’ve ended up alone, you don’t say.

“You know I’ve always said, families are better the bigger they are. Perhaps it’s far too late, but-”

“Later’s better than never.”

A moment of understanding passes between you two, perhaps for the first time.

“Your hair…you look quite different from when I last saw you.”

“Hmm, Red was going out of style, I suppose. Although I’m sure you wish I hadn’t changed it. You always did prefer red.”

You shake your head softly. “Perhaps in the past, but we’ve both changed, haven’t we? No, I was going to say that it becomes you.”

The silence that settles between you is filled by an exchange of gentle smiles and a skimming of one hand over the other, until the two finally link together.

[latenighttalkinqwp]

hiyaaaa could u write a fic/blurb abt maybe surprising kk while she’s doing one of her lil lives?!!!!!:)

surprising kk on live !

“hey girly pops!” kk threw up a peace sign, reading the comments. ice plopped on the chair beside her, waving to the live. “kk where is your man?” ice laughed, looking over at the brunette. kk rolled her eyes, propping her phone up on a water bottle. “okay so, my ‘man’ has been busy with sports. y’all girlies already know, we the athletic couple. period.” she looked at herself through the live, ignoring the face ice was giving her.

you had been gone for a few weeks due to dance. your coach always kept you busy, but during the summer before football season, kk felt like you never had time for her. currently, you were back in your hometown, hosting an intensive that your old studio planned for you to run. it would last about a week, not including the time you would be spending home after to be back with family. it was safe to say, that kk definitely was missing you.

“yall, it’s private but not a secret.” kk laughed, motioning for ice to come stand near her. “paige was supposed to be joining but i think she had an errand to run or something..” kk rolled her eyes, trying to change the topic off of you. ice nodded, even though she knew exactly what paige was doing.

kk knew you were coming back to uconn in the next week, since that’s what you guys had discussed over the phone. however, what she didn’t know was that you actually scheduled your flight back for the week before to surprise her.

about thirty minutes had gone by, and kk was letting random people join the live, whenever she seen your name in the chat. her eyebrows raised, pointing out what you commented to ice. they both waved, trying to let you know that they seen what you commented. “yall, my ‘man’ is lurking in the chat right now.” kk pretended that she was blushing, tucking one of her twists behind her ear. ice laughed, knowing what was about to happen.

you turned off your phone, looking up at paige. you guys were standing outside of the door, waiting for the perfect moment to go in. “are you sure she’s okay with me being on the live?” you asked, knowing how kk felt about keeping the relationship between you and her. paige nodded, motioning for you to walk in. kk looked up whenever she heard the door open, expecting it to be paige walking in.

“hi kam!” you smiled, scanning the girls face for a reaction. kk’s jaw dropped, covering her mouth with her hand. “wait- what are you doing here?” she asked, running over to pull you into a tight hug. paige and ice smiled, going over to talk to the live. “i thought i would surprise you! i missed you too much to wait any longer.” you felt kk’s smile widen into your neck, pulling you even closer. “i missed you so much, im so happy you are here right now.” kk pulled back, looking you up and down. “sorry- i am just making sure this is like…totally real right now.”

you rolled your eyes, pulling her back in for another hug. you put your hands on her cheeks, looking her in the eyes. she licked her lips, leaning in closer. you closed the gap between you guys, and pressed a tender kiss to her lips. you both pulled away smiling, looking over at paige and ice who were telling the live what was happening. kk laughed, looking back over at you. “do you think it’s real now?” you raised and eyebrow, scanning your eyes over the girls face.

“i’m not sure, i might need another kiss just to be sure…”

- thank u for reading all the way through! feel me to send me more requests !!!

- i hope this was good! im so sorry this took me so long to write babe 😭 this is easily one of the worst things i’ve written….

[savviathan]

Gem pushes a couch into the lobby of Decked Out, directly in front of the door.

She sits down, soul lantern in hand, and coughs expectantly. She waits a moment. She coughs louder.

It feels like the stone around her sighs outwards with an edge of Tango’s rasp in its voice, and the door to Decked Out opens on its own accord.

“So, do you want to start, or should I?”

The stone constrict again beside her, tensing up like pursing its lips. It looks around, blue light burning brighter on the snow layers, then in the egg hunt room, and then settles again down by the stairs. The pistons beneath the floor hiss, and Gem feels something like the cold burn of ice touching skin.

“Then I will start.” She smiles, holding her head up high.

Somewhere, the stone cracks. Her lantern flickers frantically, flames dancing around and almost dying. Gem only shakes her head.

“I’m not very happy with you, you know.” She starts, putting her free hand on her hip. “But I’m going to be cordial. For your sake. This is a therapy session.”

Decked Out’s doors whine.

“One of many if you keep this up.”

Everything seems to still. Then, Decked Out slowly, painfully, releases the pressure in the room. Suddenly, a card is pulled from the deck:

STUMBLE

Gem laughs, hard.

As much of a hard ass Decked Out can be, it still holds Tango’s breath, and his eyes, and his heart, and his sense of humor. It still carries its creator’s vision. That sort of thing is easy to forget sometimes, between all of the ‘killing you’ thing. Speaking of that. Gem settles further into the couch.

“So. As you know, I’ve been running a lot recently. I’m on a quest to get good.” She pointedly ignores Decked Out’s snickering in Tango’s voice. “And I would like to run deeper, but I just can’t seem to find any keys. What gives? Why are you so angry with me?”

At that, Gem gets a startlingly bigger reaction than she had anticipated. It feels like there’s someone sitting on her chest, and the walls close in, and then back out, and the lanterns flicker, and the shop shuffles its contents, and, and—

“Okay, hang on!” She yells, and Decked Out freezes. Literally; she can see her breath coming out in puffs, now. “Well, that’s a lot to unpack.”

Decked Out begins again slowly, reshuffling the shop contents back to where they used to be. Cards pop up and down, and a shard reappears, and Tango’s weird dungeon lackey hood stays just where it is in the corner.

“Is it tango?” She asks tentatively. Decked out laughs back at her incredulously with Tango’s voice.

“Is it me?” And beyond the opened doors, decked out whistles. “What did I do?”

Decked out quiets.

“Nothing. Okay, I’m not following.”

Decked out’s doors groan. It seems to fiddle with the latches quietly, thinking, gears and redstone turning in its head, then clicks rapidly. The doors shut in Gem’s face.

“Hey, just because it’s hard to explain yourself in a language that—“

“Take your items or I’ll feed them to the ravagers.” It interrupts her, loudly, and the lanterns flicker by the stairs. The freezing temperatures leave the room.

“Oh.” Gem says, standing up and following it around the corner. Though, she supposes, following is probably the wrong word. It’s more like, lets it guide her to where it wants her to be. Or something. She’s not a master with communication of card games, she’s good with staggering textures in the walls, and driving a sword into Etho’s chest.

Decked Out clicks the redstone beneath her feet. She stops. It’s led her out to the front of the Deepfrost Citadel, next to Scar’s impromptu line, in the middle of the night and the freezing chill. She stares up at the imposing walls and spikes.

“What exactly am I looking for here, buddy.”

The wind whistles around her. Decked out is utterly silent, out here, unable to talk and seek in a way that matters. It knows this. Down below, mobs walk around in the snow, zombies, skeletons, Gem recalls when hoards of phantoms swooped in from the tops of the towers and attacked the few that were talking outside. It would be nice if someone could take care of that, really, and spawn proofed the area. But Tango couldn’t do that all on his own, could he?

Oh. Wait.

Gem stares back down at the spot Decked Out has taken her to, to the outsides where it cannot touch, where other creatures brush past its domain, unwanted. Gem thinks of treasure drops around the dungeon, and finding no keys, and Etho’s chuckles as he makes sure to compliment her before he runs. She thinks of getting past the gauntlet seven times over, and the comments about her appointed title, Geminislay, that tango gave her, and Decked Out has surely known.

Inside, Decked Out’s flames brighten, welcoming her back inside but never past level one.

“You don’t want me to have keys because you want me out here, don’t you?”

And the air around her, whistles, sings. The lantern she’s still holding, the one she’d brought for the therapy session, dances around in the air as it whips past. Gem sighs.

“Come with me.”

She steps inside, and feels the flames brighten as she passes, and the stone press outwards as to give her more room, and the room goes cold again as she makes it to the top of the stairs. She sits back down on the couch in the lobby, closes her eyes, and releases a breath.

“It’s my turn again.” She begins, and Decked Out is quiet.

“I recognize your feelings. I understand what you mean. I want you to know that, firstly.” She pauses for a moment. “But I am not Tango. I am not a fool.”

Decked Out laughs, again, boisterous and knowing.

“But I know that if I want to play, this relationship must go two ways, healthily. And I definitely want to play.” Decked Out hums at that, a droning sound, but it does not move. Just thinks.

“So I will protect you, where you cannot. I will be your gargoyle.” She giggles.

The citadel is a castle, after all.

“But I would like some keys. And I would like them fairly, nothing extra.” She pauses. “And also, it would be really funny if you messed with Impulse. Make him get a little tilted.”

The flames brighten. The walls seem to thrum with excitement, and a smile.

“So we’ve come to an agreement?” Gem stands and sticks her hand out.

Decked Out rushes cold hair to her fingertips. Gem smiles brightly.

“Then Geminislay joins the dungeon!”

Decked Out’s door nearly breaks itself trying to fly open.

And somewhere deep below, in Decked Out’s redstone guts, the dungeon master shakes his head fondly.

…

[Author’s Note:] I want to also give huge credit to @slashmagpie, whose amazing idea it was that Gem was the gargoyle of Decked Out. He also let me borrow this silly concept of a fic idea from him and write it. Thanks magpie!!

[evans23]

Loving you is a losing game

Pairing : Judge Turpin x Reader OC

Summary : The Judge Turpin has married you by buying your hand to your father. Determined to not let him get close to you and even less reach your heart well kept under ice and resentment, you keep on to push him away. But after having been told that loving you is a losing game, something new seems to awake inside of you.

Tag(s)/Warning(s) : Forced marriage. Assault.

A/N : Hello dear 😁 here lay my first Turpin fiction. I didn't really know where I was going with it but here is it. I didn't proofread it so there are probably some mistakes, sorry for that. I forgot to mention I am not the one who came up with the name Richard. I read this name in the terrific trilogy “Judged and Sentenced” from @deepperplexity. Since then I saw the name pop up here and there and so, I suppose the name is sort of canon now 😅

Part II

Read also on AO3

You couldn't put up with the fact that he had bought you. But it wasn't really him, your husband, that you despised for that. It was your father. The man you thought you could always count on.

You had had quite an easy childhood with not too many constraints, which were rather rare at that time. You had been taught to read and to write. And you were a good writer. Such a good one that one day, a publisher from a local and independent Newspaper from London made you sign a contract to edit some of your short stories in his Sunday paper. And as he was well known in the literary sector, he put you in touch with a book publisher. This is how you became "Alexander Bryant" in the eyes of the public. Of course, you weren't able to be published under your real name. A female writer ? What an offense !

But you didn't really care as you were able to make some money from the sale of it. Some really good money, a rarity for a woman. It was fortunate as, for the biggest desperation of your father, you weren't, in any way possible, a good maid. You couldn't sew two points in a raw correctly, your cooking wasn't palatable at all and if you appreciated living in a tidy house, you couldn't spend more than one hour or less doing that.

But you didn't have to worry about it now as you had been married for two months to no one else than "The Death's Judge".

"How did it happen to me," you muttered to yourself, looking at you in the mirror without really seeing your reflection.

In fact, you perfectly knew how it had happened. You didn't know how and you didn't know where, but Richard, your now husband, had noticed you one day and since then, your faith was decided.

He came one day to your house with a bouquet of flowers for you. You had looked at him suspiciously. You knew who he was. His reputation preceded him of course but you also had a glimpse at him one day when you were at the court with your publisher and one of his associates to negotiate the terms of your new contract with a solicitor.

At that time, you didn't think anything peculiar about the man. You vaguely remembered having thought that he was quite handsome with his hooked nose, his tall frame and his charismatic presence. If you hadn't been forced to marry him, you would have admitted that you had found him alluring.

But here was the point : your father had sold you to the man.

That day when he came to your house with his bloody flowers and his absolutely not appealing smile. He had asked to talk with your father and you had fetched him as quickly as you could, afraid that he was in trouble.

He wasn't in trouble, nevertheless, the call of the money echoed deeply in him when Judge Turpin offered a generous dowry for your hand.

"I apologies to have to tell you are in the wrong Judge Turpin."

The man had looked up at you with a frown.

"This is the woman's family who have to provide you with a dowery and unfortunately, no one here is in measure to give you a penny."

It was half a lie as you kept your money in security into a chest under your bed. You weren't quite honest about your earnings with your father as he was quite a spendthrift. So, you helped him by giving him a small amount of money, keeping preciously the rest away to constitute a nest egg for later.

Absolutely not bewildered by your interruption and your statement, Turpin had grinned before announcing that you were the one making in mistake in this particular case.

"I had the sincere desire to marry you and as I just said, I will give a compensation to your father for the loss of his precious daughter."

You had retained a laugh, persuaded that never ever my father would agree to such an obnoxious offer.

You were so wrong. The Judge had let you some days to think over the offer he had laid on.

Tempted by this important amount of money Turpin was willing to pay to ensure that your father handed over your hand to him, your thoughtful father didn't need to think too long to accept his offer and in the blink of an eye, you were betrothed.

You had protested, swearing that you would prefer to kill you rather than marry the man, the deal was sealed without you having a say. In any way, no one was willing to listen to you.

During the ceremony, you were full of apprehension, afraid about your wedding night. But for your biggest surprise, nothing happened. After the party, the both of you retired in the privacy of his opulent mansion, he showed you your room and left you alone.

Your new house was daunting, not up to your expectations. The exteriors were quite imposing, displaying the wealth of the Judge, but the inside was… not really gloomy but also not really lively. It was as if the house was uninhabited. And you discovered later it was the case. Turpin, Richard as he asked you to call him, was seldomly at home. He departed for the court early in the morning and came back late in the night. Since your wedding, you didn't share a meal together and your only company was your maid.

For such a big house, he didn't have nearly so much staff as one could expect of a man of his stature would have. A cook, three maids, whose one had been hired exclusively for you, and the Beadle. You didn't really know who the man was and what clearly was his function beside your husband but you couldn't stand him. His ratty face didn't inspire you any confidence. He seemed deceitful and ready to betray his own mother if it could bring him any advantages.

"Like Richard," you said to no one as you were looking out the window at the crowd running around the city.

Hadn't you been so resentful about the latest events, you would have admitted that your life wasn't as bad as you imagined it would become after your wedding.

He didn't touch you that night nor any other after that. He didn't try anything which could have distressed you, didn't restrict you from any freedom you thought you would be longing for. You were allowed to write, he was more than happy to furnish you the papers and the ink you needed and he had arranged a room for you to make your office. You were allowed to go out, only on the condition to stay in the richest part of the town and you could visit your publisher when needed without his approval. His only wish was that you let your maid know when you were leaving the home. You weren't dupe, you knew that as soon as you set a foot outside, he was informed. But even if he was aware of each of your movements inside and outside the mansion, you were still able to enjoy your freedom, a privilege a lot of women lost after being married.

He also lavished you with presents. Valuable jewelry, the most beautiful dresses you had ever seen, books, flowers. Not a week had passed without an attention for you. In the beginning, you hesitated between bringing the presents into his office to let him know you didn't want to have anything to do with him but well aware of his reputation, you had been afraid of infuriating him. After all, you didn't really know the man and he could retake what he had given you at any time.

So was what you told to yourself rather than admit the truth : you were flattered and pleased to receive such beautiful gifts. Should someone have utter that maybe you could come to appreciate your husband you would fervently have denied it. After all, how could you become accustomed to him without having the opportunity to speak with him ?

The only moments shared together were on Sunday. Richard wasn't a fervent believer in God and neither did you, so you had a lazy Sunday at the mansion. It was the only time during which you ate lunch and diner together and during the afternoon, he systematically invited you to join him in the parlor but you rarely spoke to one another. In general, both of you were reading. Sometimes, you brought with you your ongoing book and he would ask you random questions about it. He had once admitted to having your previous literary work.

"And what did you think of it ?" you had asked with a feigned indifference.

Your stoicism hid your nervousness. You couldn't fathom why you felt nervous about his opinion about your work, but you were.

"Well my dear, It is unusual for a woman to write about such things as a vampire. Even less a love story like this one. Does the sexual tension between the human lady and the vampire make on purpose ?" he had asked bluntly.

You had nodded once, your cheeks flushing at the mention of some somewhat suggestive scenes from your book.

"Well, I am impatient to read the next part of it."

And that was all.

Mustering up the motivation you were lacking to officially begin the day, you pulled yourself away from the window and asked the help of your maid to get ready to go out. You had to go see your publisher and then, you expected to have a walk in the park to make the better of the sunny day, which began to spread ahead as the hours passed by.

But nothing happened as you had planned. While you were walking in the street, you took a side road to reach faster your destination. It was a dark, filthy little street dwelt with drunkers and dwellers. You weren't really scared as you had taken this path numerous times in the past and as long as you minded your own business, you weren't really in danger. At least, it was what you thought. How wrong you were, you realized when a callous hand had fallen on your mouth.

"Your lost little beauty ?" asked a raspy voice.

You shivered, trying with all your strength to get away from the man but his grip was strong.

"Don't make it difficult little beauty, you will like it."

You bit his hand to blood, which earned you a ferocious slap on the face. You fell on the ground, a bit dizzy, trying as hard as you could to pull yourself together but you didn't have the time than his hand clenched at your hair, pulling you violently towards him. Standing you up roughly, making you let a squirm escape your lips, he pushed you against the wall, a hand on your breasts, another trying to find his way under your skirt.

Totally paralyzed, you were unable to move or even scream. Your breath became heavy as you stayed motionless even though you knew what would happen next.

He has approached his face from yours, his foul breath caressing your lips, making you want to throw up, when a snicker was heard.

Not really moved by the onlooker, the man had run his tongue across your cheeks, which had the effect of waking you up from your trance.

You tried to slap him but he was faster and knocked your head with his fist.

"Constable !' shouted a voice.

In one instant, the man was pushed down to the ground by two constables. Behind them were the Beadle. The snicker-man.

"Having dared to touch the wife of the Judge Turpin…" he muttered, enjoying the moment.

"It is something that will send you right through your death," he added with a horrendous laugh.

You have been brought back to the mansion by another policeman while Beadle escorted your assaulter to the prison, clearly enjoying what he had witnessed and the fate of the mongrel.

When you arrived, Richard was already torn, the worry imbued all over his face.

"[Y/N], dear, are you well ?" he asked his voice full of concern.

He tried to take your hand but you pushed him away before holding yourself tightly to retain your shivers.

He didn't follow you as your maid came towards you to lead you to the bathroom where she ran a bath for you. You soaked in the water until it was cold. Then, you called for your maid. At any other time, you would have dismissed her as soon as your bath was ready. You didn't like having someone around you to help you with something as trivial as drying you off but you were exhausted and could barely keep your eyes open. But it's not your maid who entered into the room. It was your husband.

"Richard…" you whispered, not daring to look at him.

You felt suddenly wide awake, the tiredness dissipated and replaced with something else. You felt ashamed about what had happened. You knew it wasn't your fault, for that man had acted with malignancy and it couldn't have been the first time. At this thought, you bristled.

"[Y/N], let me help you," he said, stepping in carefully.

He dropped a thick towel around you but when he tried to rub you in the aim to bring some heat to your cold skin, you backed away.

"Don't be afraid [Y/N]. I just want to help you. I will protect you."

He tried again to approach you but then again you backed away, trying to shut him out from trying to break through your shell.

"[Y/N]," he said almost desperately.

You shook your head, muttering for him to go away.

"Leave me alone," you said with anger.

"No ! I want to help you," he replied, looking with disapproval at the bruises which began to form on your face.

"I don't want your help ! I want you to go out. Let me be !" you shouted.

"No ! You are my wife, my place is by your side."

"I'm not," you retorted.

"What ?" Asked Richard, his own anger boiling up quietly but surely.

"I am not your wife," you said with defiance.

He made one step towards you and this time you didn't move, holding his gaze with fury.

"You are my wife. We had wed in front of our families and of God !"

"God has nothing to do with our marriage. You have bought a wife as we bought a dog."

"I asked for your hand because I am in love with you."

"How ? How could you be in love with me ? We have never spoken together !" you shouted totally oblivious that the staff could hear you. "If you were really in love with me, you would have courted me properly."

"Would you have agreed ?"

You didn't respond as the answer was obvious. Never you would have paid the slightest attention to his advance, but there wasn't the point.

"So, no matter what, you get what you want by fair means or foul." you spit out.

"My patience grows thin, woman." he warned you.

"And what are you going to do ? Giving me a beating ?" you asked brazenly.

He clenched and unclenched his fists several times. Never would he have laid a finger on you on the purpose of hurting you but you were clearly unnerving him far more than anyone before you had dared to.

"I try [Y/N]. I try very hard. You are the one unwilling to make any effort to come to me and get to know me."

"Buying a hand doesn't mean you buy a heart !" you retorted coldly.

You were about to add something else, something you wish was hurtful but you didn't have time as he cut you off.

"I tried to talk about your writing, about your childhood, your hobbies. You always answered me with monosyllable, always with a bored look on your face. I gave you space, I didn't coerce you to oblige to your marital duty, I let you go out alone as a proper lady shouldn't do. And this is how you thank me each time. By pushing me away. Again and again and again. Each time I try to show you kindness, you answer with meanness."

He had said that in a calm, poised voice but his anger could clearly be heard. He had talked with the calm severity of a teacher who doesn't need to raise his voice to make his disobedient pupils obey.

"Richard," you whispered.

"Loving you is a losing game but things are going to change, woman ! I am not to let you mess with me anymore. Yes, mark my words, things are going to change for you woman !" he growled dominating you with his imposing presence.

His baritone voice sent some shivers along your backbone.

With one last look at your bruised face, he quit the room, slamming the door behind me.

You stayed there for a while, stunned by what had just happened. He was right. Now that you thought about all the moments he had passed with you, never had you let him reach you farther than the cold surface layer that prevented the world from knowing the real you.

You were so angry about having been bought like an animal that you had never tried to be more acquainted with him. He was right, never ever he could have had your attention, even less your friendship and certainly not your heart if he hadn't barged in your home. And if you were totally honest, you would admit that you begrudged far more your father than Richard for the deal that was made that day.

"But He still didn't have my heart." you reasoned with yourself.

But inwardly, you felt as if it weren't true anymore. Not totally. You couldn't tell you were in love with him but for the first time, you were ready to recognize that you felt something for the man.

Loving you is a losing game, had he said but at this precise moment, you felt as if you were the one losing the game you had settled the both of you in. You were losing the game of hatred in favor of love. And this night, whilst you were staring at the ceiling, you found yourself hoping that he take back his words, that he came to the conclusion that loving you was worth it.

[scorpioracha]

Dating Seokjin

I really hope you guys enjoy this one! I spent the better part of the day writing it and Jin has a special place in my heart as one of my first biases so yeah. Y’all know the vibes, reblog,like,comment and come yell at me if you enjoy it they’re really appreciated and encourage me to keep writing♡

김 석진 Kim Seokjin

-you and Jin met while you were working at a bakery in myeongdeong. It wasn’t your dream job but it payed the bills, especially during rush hour. Extra people meant extra tips, and working the morning rush didn’t seem so bad when the line was packed full of people with Chanel bags and Rolexes, you’re even sure you saw a Mercedes parked out front…

-So you were no stranger to slapping a smile on your face and putting on the charm for some extra won in your tip jar—you even decorated it seasonly—dedicated to the craft,born to the breed…this was not your first rodeo working customer service and from the looks of rent and textbooks it wouldn’t be your last

-When a handsome man walks in you weren’t even phased. You looked him straight in the eyes and asked him for his order. Then asked if he was okay because the pause in between was getting a bit awkward and there were more customers.

“You don’t know who I am”he mumbled, seemingly shocked. You just held back an eye roll strong enough to cause an earthquake and smiled again. Rich people.

“No, am I supposed to?”

-this caused the most heinous laughter you have ever heard and he recovered enough to say he wanted an iced americano and whatever you thought was best. Trying not to side eye him for wasting your time and causing the other customers to get antsy, you recommended him a slice of vanilla cheesecake and he laughed again, questioning if it was too early for cake. You couldn’t help yourself but to laugh too because his was quite something and you just winked at him and promised not to tell.

-you were understaffed that day—as usual, so you also got his order ready. You sent him on his way with a bow and a cake pop snuck in there cause no one really made you laugh on the job. And he left you with a hefty tip that felt like robbery.

-you thought that was the last you’d see of him. Until you started seeing him everywhere. Billboards,tv shows,magazines,posters—hell the bakery even had a poster of his band up in the coming month. You were sure it was him, those lips didn’t just belong to anyone.

-you found yourself looking for him during the morning rush but to no avail, he wasn’t there. He was everywhere else around you though and it drove you crazy. Your squeaky laughed paramour seemed to be gone with the wind.

-until your shift got changed sometime near December. With finals upcoming you needed the mornings to sleep and study, so now you worked closing.

-your first day on closing was similar to any other closing shift. Busy from 4-6pm and then dead the rest of the night. It was peaceful in a way, less tips but between customers you got to relax.

-Until he came in. He was wearing a mask and a hat and bundled up in about a million coats but it was him, you knew it. You had learned his name was Seokjin from your research(stalking) and maybe you were having hallucinations from your third espresso but there he was, staring at you with those beautiful eyes. Then he said the unexpected.

“Ya!”he exclaimed, ripping off his scarf. “Where have you been?! I’ve been coming here every night for the past three months! Do you not work the night shift?! Has nobody told you??”

You furrowed your brows, that’s not what you were expecting. “You could have come during the day time!”you argued. “If you knew I wasn’t here at night, why didn’t you come during the day?!”

“Because I can’t come during the day!”he argued back. By this point his jacket had been hung over a chair and his mask was pulled down on his chin. Damn. It was hard to argue with a man with those lips…

“…and I’ve been sneaking around like a creep looking for you—are you even listening??”

You blinked once. Then twice. Then found yourself laughing again like you had all those months ago. Who new a meetcute in July could make an argument in December

feel like a first date.

“You said you’ve been looking for me?”you said, looking at him with mirth in your eyes. He nods, his own eyes still wide from his ranting and his cheeks pink from adjusting to the warmth.

“I..yes, I just-I just couldn’t get you out of my head”he explained, “I’m at a point in my life where it feels like everyone thinks they know me. It was just refreshing to meet somebody without them having a million and one ideas of who they think I am”

You nod. “Well, I know your name now because who doesn’t, but you’re right, I don’t know you”

“Would you like to?”he asked.

“I would.”

And it was history from there. A slightly bumpy history.

-“do I get a kiss if I say today is my birthday?”

“You can get a slap”

-You two did in fact meet again on his birthday and after making sure(asking to see his ID) you celebrated with a slice of vanilla cheesecake and a candle that was half broken you found somewhere in the break room.

-this all happened in 2016. As the group grew and their popularity, your relationship definitely needed to adjust accordingly. Bang PD was less than thrilled by Jin getting himself into a relationship but one thing we know about Jin is that he’s stubborn🤡 so there was no way he was losing that fight

-you had to adjust to seeing him less earlier on when they were still making a name for themselves. But that didn’t stop you from packing up the pastries at the end of the and hauling them off to the boys at the dance studio. With a little scolding from Hobi that they were going to get cramps eating all these sweets, they were all very grateful.

-But Jin being the man he is made sure to stop in while you were working too. Mainly at night but on the random chance they got a break he’d come in the mornings and hang out in the kitchen, where you had been promoted to part time baker. Usually he brought you breakfast and coffee which you always scolded him for because you worked in a literal bakery but he’d just scold

you back claiming he hasn’t seen you eat a vegetable in weeks. And no it didn’t count if it was in a croissant.

-may or may not have told everyone he knows about the bakery and it may or may not have turned into an idol hotspot.

-don’t be too mad at him he just wants to support his girl😭

-outside of work for both of you guys Jin is pretty…quiet. You hadn’t expected it when you first started dating but that’s just because his guard was still up. Now that you’re happily settled into your relationship he doesn’t feel the need to be on around you. He doesn’t have to make you laugh,be world wide handsome or loud. He could be quiet and soft and wear cute pajama sets while playing his maplestory.

-sometimes he was so quiet in the house you forgot he was there. The world wouldn’t believe it if you paid them a thousand dollars but this knowledge was nice. Something that the world didn’t need to know, that you could keep for yourself.

For yourself and six other boys.

-they did have Jin first and honestly the first time you met them you always shit your pants. God they could be intimidating when they’re sussing someone out, especially Jimin. The hyung line liked you just fine but it did take a while to gain the Maknae’s trust. They’ve never seen Jin date or even think about dating so they were skeptical. Jin was the oldest and therefore a pseudo parent for the rest of the members, so you coming into the picture was different.

-but you’re you so how could you not win them over?

-the once hesitant maknae’s cling to your side whenever you’re at Hybe. Sometimes you swear you see them more than Jin.

“Y/n, let’s go shopping!”

“Y/n, have you seen x y and x?”

“Y/n, Taehyung hit me!”

And so forth.

-the hyung’s enjoyed your presence just as much. Yoongi was relieved someone else could take over as mom—he liked to joke that you two were the real parents of this band. Hobi would laugh at a bottle cap falling so you crack him tf up and namjoon our responsible leader is happy that his members are happy.

(He’s just trying to look cool, you two go on museum outings and have a book swap you do together)

Jin bits!✨tid bits about you and Jin✨

-every anniversary you guys start it off by having some form of vanilla cake in bed. His always with a candle on it.

-he always keeps a hoodie and a blanket in his car because this is not a kdrama and you are not getting a jacket because he’s cold too🙄

-you guys moved in together around your third year of dating, starting off in an apartment near myeongdeong for your job, but now y’all live in a house on the outskirts of Seoul

-if it’s not takeout, you most likely cooked the food for eat Jin. Can he cook? Yes. Does he cook when you’re around? Not unless you ask.

-you guys have so many matching pajama sets

-he cried when you said he wasn’t your bias. Fucking acting school😒

-you now own so much RJ merch it’s actually ridiculous and you asked him to stop bringing so many RJs home. The answer was no🤡

-after years of working your way up the ladder you own the bakery now! Jin wants to retire you because he doesn’t believe princesses need to work but you grew to actually the enjoy the job when you were no longer working cash register.

-his nickname for you is 공주님(princess)

NSFW

-idk y’all but Jin is giving me heavy experimentalist vibes. I think he’s less into the d/s side of bdsm and more into the bondage and the s/m side. He’s got clear limits but since your relationship is established and he trusts you so much he’s willing to try anything once within those limits.

-he also is the type to set the mood for these kinds of play. A spare room in the house with dark curtains,silk sheets and a chest full of all different types of things. He doesn’t really care who’s in charge in bed, that’s not really his aim. It could go either way for him.

-Jin’s kinda play is expensive. It’s nothing but the best for you, for both of you. He’s not one to flaunt his wealth but he’s always been a quality kind of guy. Your paddles? Leather,imported,small business. Your hand cuffs? Stainless steel and cushioned. Spanking bench? Cherry oak wood with velvet cushions baby. You’ve got matching harnesses in pink and white because of course something in here was going to be pink.

-he’s kinda just down for the ride. It’s that Sagittarius sun. You wanna tie him up? Cool. You want him to tie you up? Cool. You want to choke him? He’s down. His limits are around sharp pain and bodily fluids, besides cum because he’s very much so a much when prompted

-you better be ready though because when you get Seokjin in the right mood he is fucking until the sun comes up. This is usually when you’ve both been at an event—always his plus one—and there’s too many wandering eyes and not enough champagne. He’s surprisingly very possessive which you never would have clocked until it was prompted. So yeah he’s not one for sharing.

-he also does not breathe a word of your sex life to the boys or any other friend and he expects the same from you.

-lets just say that condom scandal held truth. because mans right here is packing the punisher. He got the back breaker, the cervix splitter 9000, you gotta be big and bad enough to ride this ride and you definitely are.

-as a trained actor one thing about Jin is he can embody a role. You want a mean dom? He can give you mean dom(after he’s done so so much research because he never wants to hurt you in a way that you don’t like). He can have you on the floor begging on your hands and knees tied to the leg of a chair like a mutt just to hump his shoe, when earlier that day homie was shuffling around the house in bunny slippers and an RJ headband. The duality with this one was crazy.

-he could also be tied up to the headboard of the bed begging you with tears in his eyes to just sink down on his cock and stop teasing him. Pretty pink harness on with pink padded cuffs to match. You know Seokjin and his love for pink, pink hair,pink microphone,pretty pink dick, just the basics yk?

-on the flip side if y’all aren’t in the play room, you’re getting your back blown out on your fluffy comfy king sized bed. It’s passionate, it’s sensual and it’s light hearted because one thing about Jin is he gonna laugh. One of you is gonna make a weird sound and he’s going to try so hard not to laugh, he really is, cause he’s balls deep and now is not the time but you guys make eye contact and it’s over. He’s fucking gone trying so hard to calm himself down.

Sometimes it ruins the moment but most of the time you’re able to pick up where you left off.

-all and all, Jin my first bias that wasn’t a leader, be throwing down in them sheets

[ratatatastic]

"Local kid makes good. Matthew Tkachuk, Stanley Cup Champion. So how does that sound? Stanley Cup Champion?" "I think it sounds better and better each time I'm hearin' it. It's been—I think—almost 2 months, I don't even know? Time has been flyin' but it just—each day is more and more incredible thinkin' about it." "So you're here to throw out the first pitch with Jayson Tatum, you're both Chaminade proud, like, you knew each other back then, you were friends in high school, and you're still friends—tell me about that relationship." "Yeah, it's been really incredible watching him—I think we both started out in the league very similar years. I might've been a year before when he was at College but it's been absolutely incredible to follow along his journey, and his career. I still keep in touch every now and then. I know we've played Boston the last few playoffs and he's been to a few of the playoff games for me. I went to one of his playoff games last year when we were in Boston. So really, really cool just to watch him, it was really cool to see him play in person. I'm excited to see him, and throw out that pitch with him today."

los angeles dodgers @ st louis cardinals pregame | 8.18.24 (x)

"When you guys were younger—both obviously stand-out athletes—did you ever imagine you would be a Stanley Cup Champion one day? And he would win a NBA Championship with the Celtics? Did that ever cross your minds?" "No, I mean, he was way better at his sport than I was at my sport when we were that young... I think I had a pretty good idea that he was gonna be a star basketball player. I guess you don't really think about Championships at that time of your life. You always dream about it but do you really think its gonna happen? And for us to do it, you know, within a week or however long apart from each other, it just—what a great time for all of our friends and family, and people that are just supporting us in St. Louis. I feel like St. Louis with not having teams to—you know, in their city to root for, I feel like they really kind-of hopped on and rooted for us and the Celtics. That made us, especially being from here, made us feel really special." "City was behind ya, one hundred percent! Let's talk about the final. You guys were up three-zip, it goes to a Game 7. What's that like?" "It's not supposed to be easy! I feel like it wouldn't have made sense or worked if it, you know—wasn't that scenario. It was always gonna be a long series. For us to win the first 3 and then lose the next 3—I mean, that wasn't ideal but at the end of the day we were comin' back to our incredible fans in Florida for a Game 7 Stanley Cup Final. What an incredible environment! That is a dream game! You always talk about the Game 7s when you're younger, and those are the moments you dream of, and I got to live out a dream this year." "What was it like sharing it with your pop? You know in the postgame coverage, I see your dad all over the place, your brother, your sister, your mom—what was it like sharing it with them?" "It was amazin'! Just handin' the Cup to my dad on the ice afterwards was super special there—the moment where he was actually in the locker room after the game when, you know, friends and family were startin' to come down, and I got to hand it to him, we got to beer-shower him, he got to lift it up in front of all my teammates, they were all goin' nuts for him too! Because they know that he played such a long time, and unfortunately wasn't able to win one in his playing career but I think he would've, you know, traded that all and done it exactly the way it happened for one of his boys to win it. It was such a family—It was such an incredible time for our whole family and I'm so lucky to have such great support from them." "Fun to watch too! Last thing before we let you go. You look good in the Cardinals red, Cardinals cap—there was a time where your dad, Big Walt, liked the Red Sox... please tell me you're a Cardinal fan..." "I am a Cardinal fan! Yeah, that time is—I was a big David Ortiz fan so when he was on the team like he was...him and Albert [Pujols] were my two favourites so it's actually pretty cool I got to hang out with Albert over summer in a golf tournament—the ACC tournament out in Lake Tahoe. He was one of my sports heroes! Yeah, I've been a Cardinals fan ever since I can remember with Albert." "Congratulations on getting the Cup, thanks for the chat!" "Yep, thank you!"

[aealzx]

The quiet of the infirmary was welcomed, but Leo also didn’t miss it when it was broken by Mikey bursting into the doorway with his hands holding an item above his head. “Leo! Mama and April brought strawberries AND watermelon!” Mikey announced, the huge melon balanced in his rocking hands.

“Two watermelons!”

“TWO watermelons!”

Mikey could barely contain his excitement, repeating April’s comment that filtered in from the other room and causing Leo to laugh. “She’s gonna see if Raph can fit a whole one in his mouth! You gotta come watch!”

“What? No way! There’s no way!” Leo sputtered even as Carol winced before rolling her eyes with a sigh. Leo was about to scramble off the bed, but stopped and turned back when he remembered he was supposed to watch after Donnie. Crouching close to his brother, Leo rested a hand on his shoulder and lowered his voice to almost a whisper. “Hey Dee, you wanna come get some strawberries?”

With all the noise being made it was safe to say Donnie was already awake, but he appreciated Leo being quieter to talk to him. Normally he loved strawberries, but right then it just felt like too much. So with a scratchy cough he just twitched his head to decline and buried down in the blanket.

Leo seemed a little concerned at the reaction, and moved his hand to rest gently against Donnie’s forehead again. “Okay. We’ll just save some for you for later,” Leo promised, nudging his own head against Donnie for a moment before squirming off the bed. “Can you keep an eye on him, Mom?”

“Of course, honey. Go have fun and enjoy the snacks,” Carol assured, not wanting to keep Leo from being the teenager he was. She wasn’t really in the mood to watch Raph shove an entire watermelon in his mouth anyway. Leo just flashed a bright smile before he gingerly hobbled out the door.

—--------

“Coming to you live from Subway Hamato, this is April O’Neil about to witness the beginning of a new record. ONE entire watermelon, carefully cut from its disgusting rhine prison, is about to be devoured in no more than two bites by none other than Raphael Hamato.”

April’s phone was swooshed dramatically between the lair’s kitchen scene, to herself, then to the red orb of one of the watermelon’s she and Carol brought, before swooshing back up to Raph, who just gave a big smile and wave.

“Blue! Where are your crutches?” Splinter’s voice came from off camera as Leo hobbled gingerly over to them from the infirmary.

A brief flash of fear from a teenager getting caught crossed Leo’s face before he brushed it off lightly. “It’s fiiine pops. It’s just bruised,” he waved, flopping onto the stool next to Raph.

“Don’t you downplay it Blue. It’s something worse, isn’t it?” Splinter scolded, pointing the blunt ended melon knife he had at his son without fully realizing it was in his hand.

That caused Leo to roll his eyes, avoiding the concerned look from Raph. “What? Psshhh, nooo. I was just sitting on it wro-.”

“Considering the way you were walking, it’s probably one of your ligameeeennnttts- um… am I cutting these right? I think this is the first time I’ve seen a strawberry,” Casey’s interrupting commentary about Leo’s injury was steered to a different topic when Leo gave the lad a pointed stare.

“You’ve never seen strawberries??” Mikey blurted, mouth dropping. “Oh mi gosh, you have to try one, now!”

With the conversation being torn away, Raph just made sure Leo saw his concern before he turned back to April’s camera and brought his smile back. Splinter just continued to narrow his eyes at Leo though, so Leo finally broke down and hunched across the counter to whisper rapidly. “Okay, it’s a slight ATFL tear. But I’ve already taken anti inflammatories, I’m still wearing the brace, and I’ll portal back instead of walking and get ice on it after. Alright?”

Splinter kept his eyes narrowed for a moment longer than necessary so Leo would squirm slightly, but then just passed a slice of the second watermelon over to him before patting his head gently.

Giving Leo a quick wink, April shifted her phone back into view to return to her mock reporting. “Spectating with us are Raphael's younger brothers, Leonardo and Michaelangelo, his esteemed father Splinter, and the newest addition to the family, Casey Jr.”

The introductions earned a dashing smile and mask tail flip from Leo, and a toothy grin and double hand wave from Mikey. Splinter just gave his trademark grin and wink, while Casey just looked confused. Something that only increased when April stayed on him for her next question. “What are your thoughts Casey Jr? Will history be made, or will we be cleaning watermelon from the floors?”

“Uhhhhhh…,” Casey’s blank answer was reflected on his face openly, gaze moving from April, to Raph, then the peeled watermelon orb.

“An astute answer, my boy! Who can say? Such a feat has never been attempted before, being deemed too unfair for the annual Lair Games. Raphael, are you confident in your performance?” April adapted to Casey’s non answer easily, swooshing the camera back to Raph.

“Raph is gonna eat this melon in one bite. Like a BOSS! I can fit my fist in my mouth, and this thing isn’t even as big as my fist!” Raph responded, pumping his arm and holding his closed fist next to the melon for comparison.

“There you have it folks! A man of confidence ready to take on his foe. If you’re ready, we’ll begin in three, two, one!” April cheered, figuring she shouldn’t delay them any longer since Leo and Mikey were already shoving their slices of watermelon halfway into their own mouths, and Raph already had the melon orb in his hands.

By the count of one Raph shoved the melon into his mouth and chomped down, the fruit being crushed and squished out from his cheeks even as juice poured down his chin. Leo and Mikey were belting out their laughter within seconds, only getting louder when Raph smiled proudly and cupped his hands under his chin to catch the falling fruit pieces. Mikey’s laughing ended up mixed with pained chirps though as his bruised ribs protested the rough treatment, and he slid off his stool and circled around his chest.

“Yu khey M’kee?” Raph asked around his mouthful, causing Leo to give a loud honk before he fell off his own stool, and April had to put her phone down so her own roaring didn’t shake it while it was still recording.

“HA - AAHHOW! SHUT UP!” Mikey howled, wheezing and slapping the floor while his other hand pressed against his side. And after a quick glance at Splinter to make sure the teens were actually okay, being met with loud laughter from Splinter, Casey gave a soft huff of amusement before he allowed himself to add his own voice to the raucous merriment.

--------

Previous

____________________

some silliness for you guys >U<

(leo's mask being pushed up for eating was directly inspired by this headcanon from thesofgengar )

[pinkrelish]

𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.

bestfriend!eddie x fem!reader

✶“So,” you leaned into the joke by lowering your voice to a provocative, airy tone, “What are you wearing?”✶

NSFW — smut, phone sex, mutual masturbation, secretly getting off while the other doesn't know it, voice kink, perv!eddie, perv!reader

chapter: 7/15 [wc: 4.4k]

↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11

AO3

Chapter 7: Satan Always Calls Collect

You shivered. The chilly air in the tiled hallway hit the dewy drops leftover from your shower, sending an eruption of goosebumps down your exposed legs. In your slippers, you shuffled to the ice machine, filled your floppy ice pack, and returned to your dorm room, where you were more comfortable limping to your bed despite not seeing another soul. Weekends were quiet on the athletic side of campus.

Getting ready for the night, you threw back your bed covers looking forward to a long rest; a nice relaxing time knowing your alarm clock was set two hours later than usual. That is, until the phone on the shared bedside table rang.

Sagging, you answered expecting your roommate to say she forgot something, “Hello?”

“Hey.” Your stomach clenched and flipped at his distorted voice over the line. “Was just thinking about you. Sorry it’s been two weeks.”

“Don’t tell me you read a magazine that said you should wait that long to call a girl, Munson.”

Exhaling in a short scoff, he set down a metal can of whatever he was drinking; a hollow tink, presumably an empty beer. “I’m afraid my magazines don’t have many articles giving dating advice in them.” Images of naked babes posed on cars entered your mind. Probably the same titles he collected when he was younger. Sounding more apologetic, he said, “I meant to call sooner. Between getting band stuff going, researching and writing out the rest of this campaign, and other bullshit, I’ve been busy. Just coming home and crashing at night.”

“And what about your homework?”

“Yeah.. Definitely been trying to–”

“Choose your words wisely.”

“..Copy someone else’s,” he caved. Popping the tab of another drink, he sipped a few times before he felt comfortable speaking again, in a much softer manner. “I missed you.”

Glancing at the door to make sure it was closed, you sank into your mattress and tried not to ruminate too deeply over him missing you. He’d said it before, there was no reason to latch onto it now. Playing it over, and over, again in your head. Wondering how often he missed you, or thought about you in general, and what sparked him to do so, and whether or not it was as frequent as you thought about him. And if those thoughts led to other thoughts.. Daydreams, even. The sort of questions you weren’t supposed to have about your best friend. “Missed you too, Eddie. You know, you have perfect timing. I just got out of the shower, and my roommates gone for the weekend over to her boyfriend’s.” Crinkly static responded. A buzzing lull as your words sank in through your thick skull. Putting your hand over your eyes, you explained, “That sounded weird. I meant I was getting ready for bed when you called.” You almost promised him you were wearing clothes, but that seemed like a suggestion too far in the area you were trying to avoid.

Except he careened right for it. “Not wearing your tracksuit, huh?”

“No.” God, you hated how high-pitched you went when you were grinning. Twirling the phone cord around your finger like a schoolgirl, cheesing so hard your cheeks hurt. “None of the windbreaker stuff you hate.. I’m wearing pink pajamas with little ladybugs on them.”

Embarrassing.

He snickered. “Sounds cute. Do you really go to bed at 8:30 like an old lady?”

“I am old,” you insisted. In the background, you heard him walking through his trailer, assuming from the kitchen to his room with the phone tucked to his shoulder, falling to his bed with a nasally huff directly into the microphone.

No amount of shame could keep your body demure. In any other context, you wouldn’t have noticed the soft fabric of your adorable matching pajama set brushing over your nipples; an action that would be ignored on any other occasion, if it weren’t for them being coaxed from their half-hardened state to fully erect with the knowledge of where your mind was wandering.

Listening intently, there was no mistaking Eddie’s long exhale as he shifted, and the grind of a zipper being pulled.

“So,” you leaned into the joke by lowering your voice to a provocative, airy tone, “What are you wearing?”

If you could bottle his laugh, you would. It would be lacking the nuances of how his chest shook, the intricacies of his short curls bouncing, and the twinkle in his eye when his gaze slid to yours, but it would suffice on these lonely nights made less lonely by him.

“I’m–just takin’ my jacket off,” he was quick to excuse, stunting his words in a believable way for someone struggling to remove the heavy-ass layers they wore when it wasn’t even cold out. “Wearing my Hellfire shirt, which reminds me.. I couldn’t help but notice you stole my other one.”

Your fingers sought the keepsake stashed beneath your pillow out of instinct. “Oops, my bad.”

“Couldn’t possibly be because you’re planning on making the drive to join us again?” He didn’t allow you time to reject the offer. “The brats have been bothering me about you.” Sucking in a long breath, you could visualize him struggling between a nod of approval and an admonishing shake. “They think they can weasel their way out of everything by concocting these asinine scenarios, like flirting with a magically locked door to open it. You’re a bad influence on them, y’know, you shattered my illusion of being the big scary DM, and now they think I’ll give in to their demands if they’re creative enough.”

“You poor baby,” you mocked, “Sounds like you don’t even want me there.”

“I want you here.”

Instant. An ache in your chest. Lump in your throat. A single sentence washing over you, bathing you, soothing you. Snaking its way around your body. Muddying your apprehensions. He just.. said it so boldly, and immediately with conviction. Serious. Not at all matching your cooing lilt.

You laid back in bed, and if the phone cord happened to drag over your clothed tits and brush your nipples as you switched hands, thus causing you to suck in your bottom lip between your teeth, then so be it. The sensation was electric. All pleasure. And he didn’t have to know.

Back to reality, you stifled a pained grunt from lifting your right leg onto the bed. Sighing in relief at the ice pack numbing your knee.

“That was quite a noise you just made,” he said, deeper in register, a little slower and coming from his chest. Helplessly gravelly, and directly into your ear pressed against the sweaty plastic.

And yeah, your sigh came out more as a whimper than you intended. “I told you I’m getting old,” you said, slipping the top button of your shirt undone. “Gotta ice my knee after every practice. And my hips, and my left shoulder after uneven bars, both ankles–especially after having two surgeries on the right one a few years ago. God, and don’t even get me started on my back.” The next button gave easily, and your tired body was accepted by your fluffy blankets. Weary head resting amongst the pillows as your eyes fell closed.

Your callused fingertips made contact with the sensitive skin of your clavicle and Eddie continued in the same measured cadence, “Are you taking care of yourself?”

Eyes very open and mouth very shut, you glanced around your room, unnerved he chose the very second your thumb strummed over your nipple to ask that question in that way. “Wait, what?”

“Are you eating properly and giving your body a break?”

Oh. “Yes and definitely not. I told you my money is mine now, so everything’s getting better. I mean, I can afford these cute pajamas, at least. No more canned green beans on plain rice and stealing my roommate’s ketchup, for me. Plus, I get free food at my job.” You opened the rest of your shirt, bare chest rising and falling in the indecent way it should when you stopped resisting your cravings. “Can’t make any promises about my body.”

His sudden caring attitude erred on the side of doting. “I just worry about you pushing yourself too hard, sometimes.”

Thumb and index giving yourself light pinches, your jaw slackened as your body didn’t, running one leg up the other until both your thighs squeezed tight. “That’s what comes with the sport. Teenage glory and then an early retirement when your knees no longer work.” He made a gruff sound from his throat. “Why do you care? I’m the one who got a silver medal on vault last Nationals. I’m geriatric, Eddie. It happens.” Your pinches escalated in strength, causing you to press your tongue to your teeth in order to discipline yourself from being so obvious.

“Is it so wrong I want you to be healthy?”

“It’s annoying.”

“Oh, but I like annoying you.” His smirk preceded his teasing remark. An undue bite to his inflection, like he was enjoying himself far too much.

And maybe you enjoyed the idea of him caring about you too much, too.

Flattening your palm to your belly, your fingernails grazed your delicate skin on their course downward. With the phone nestled under your cheek, you used your other hand to pull the tie of your shorts loose, and slid your fingers beneath the waistband, climbing over your mound. The tip of your middle finger paused at the height of where you needed it most. Tempting your desire to test the naughtiness of it all, holding your breath as you debated if this was crossing a line; and as your free hand cupped your breast, and the backside of your thumb teetered on the precipice of a bad idea, his warm voice pushed you over the edge.

“I’ll just have to take care of you, then, if you’re not going to do it yourself.”

A stroke: thumb, and middle finger. Acute delight fluttering your inhale, and a deep rapture between your legs. Once, twice, then a little circle. Back and forth.

“Oh? And how do you suppose you’ll do that?”

“Come back to Hawkins and find out.”

Not falling for that one. Speak all the fantasies you had aloud in that honeyed rasp of his, he would do nothing to relieve your stress. In fact, you were sure he went out of his way to avoid touching you at DND, acting out the goblin’s chants by gripping the other guy’s shoulders, whispering menacingly in their ear, drumming his fingers along their backs to creep them out. Except when it came to your turn. Your hair stood on end in anticipation. And he walked past you to sing the last sinister verse on his throne. Like you didn’t exist.

What was he going to do if you drove the 16 hour round trip? Massage your lower back through sheer will alone?

Heartbreak awaited you in Hawkins. That’s it.

“Tempting offer,” you mused past the sting of a lost cause, past the dulled pain of unrequited feelings, arriving at the selfish lust of pretending he was as affected by this phone call as you.

Delving lower, you crooked your fingers and glided your arousal to your clit, swirling more vigorous, purposeful, and needy patterns of bliss. Burning in a hot flush taking over you with the phone trapped beneath the side of your face, turned in a way that would allude to you looking at him laying next to you, noses and lips touching his. A perfect delusion. Somehow, you expelled your excuses coherently, “It’s not like when we were kids; I have training every morning before class, and a second session after, and I pick up hours at work when I can. Not to mention, you know, the actual classes, and exams, and stuff; the reason I’m here, if you remember?”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t you in your off season? Meant for recovery?”

Astute observation. “Coach, uh..” This clinical conversation was not exactly fueling your perversions. “I haven’t been given much of a break ‘cause Coach wanted me to test into the Elite program, and start vying for a spot on the ‘88 Olympic team.. I’d be able to take sponsorships, if I did. Sounds better than having my clothes smell like grease, and being subjected to drunk frat boys hitting on me for a paycheck.”

A little less groggy, he said in an excited lurch, “That’s an amazing opportunity, tell me you’re considering it.”

“I dunno..” An honest insecurity warbled your dilemma. “That’s still years away, and I’d definitely have to drop out of college to focus on it. And yeah, who knows what condition my body will be in at that point. Twenty-three-years-old is practically one foot in the grave for gymnasts. Can’t imagine competing when I can already feel myself slowing down. I’d rather retire young, finish college, and join the circus.”

He sighed your name– In frustration or something more tender, you weren’t sure since you interrupted him to steer the conversation elsewhere.

“Can we talk about anything else?” you asked.

His hard swallow funneled from Indiana to Pennsylvania. From his mouth to your ear. States away, but loud and clear.

Long pause.

Two fingers deep, you closed your eyes from staring at the ceiling, tongue lulled in a silent moan. Hips chasing the heel of your palm in search of the building tension ramping to mind-altering degrees. Forgetting everything that wasn’t in direct sight of your release. Including the near-mute whine escaping with your exhale. Fucking yourself at a faster tempo, imagining he’d be the kind to like it that way. Interrupting your gasps of his name with each thrust. His face, reddened from effort, hovering above yours. His hair sweeping your cheeks. Building. Building. Sending a wanton throb to your clit. Begging for the expertise of your thumb while your fingers were buried in your willing cunt closing in tight around inadequacy.

Long pause.

His mattress springs creaked before you became muffled to the world. His soft breath was replaced by the harsh noise of fabric rubbing against the mic. You jerked away, nose wrinkled at the loudness of it all, about to ask if he dropped the phone when he came back.

“We can talk about whatever you want,” he enunciated in a sweltering union of coercion and dare.

————

Eddie didn’t remember when, exactly, it happened, but he did recall forgiving it as an involuntary response to his nerves.

Metal can to lips, happiness resided. The first beer he downed quickly, but was still too aware of his inhibitions. It did little to hush his pounding heart stuttering his breaths, nor quench his dry mouth. The second drink was better at eliminating the shake in his fingers. The third dulled his face until it tingled under his prodding, feeling the sensation beneath a buzzing layer of haze.

The strip of your character sheet was balled in his sweaty fist. Resolute, he punched the number in order.

It was possible his body reacted to that first ring. Or when you attempted to disguise your annoyed tone under an air of curiosity when you answered with a curt, “Hello?” Or, maybe, his pants became uncomfortably snug when the both of you implied he needed dating advice to talk to you; his friend.

Or it happened when you mentioned what you were wearing.

Freshly showered. In bed all alone. Implying much, and saying so little.

Yeah, he definitely cupped himself then, reveling in the satisfaction of his hardon being treated with the kindness it deserved.

He didn’t waste time taking off his shoes before he was stretching the phone cord to its limits to reach his room. Falling into bed, laying slightly propped up by his pillow. An excited jitteriness to his movements as he unfastened his belt, leather ends dropping to either side of his hips, sucking in his stomach to unbutton his jeans, but as sneaky as he was, you heard the zipper struggle over the bulk of his increasing neediness. “I’m–just takin’ off my jacket,” he said, tilting his head up to escape the groan begging to be announced when his red boxers stretched to their limits in a swell between the black lanes his jeans created. Freed from its cage.

Not once did shame enter his mind. He knew his limits. He could be quiet. He could be quick. He could keep it routine. He was simply taking care of a momentary lapse in judgment, and you didn’t have to know. It wouldn’t get out of hand. Hell, he could even manage to carry a coherent conversation with you. Coherent, but a little apparent where his mind resided, repeatedly mentioning your body.

He shoved his Hellfire shirt up to his chest, giving himself ample room for later.

“Are you taking care of yourself?”

Why did you have to react that way, seconds after gifting him with the most delicious moan when you climbed into bed? Sucking in a breath like a gasp; so sweet and innocent, and naive to the rate at which his depravity shattered his illusion of self-control.

Are you hungry, sweetheart? I’ll make you dinner, just sit there and look pretty for me.

Groping his clothed length, he tightened his fist until his fingers circled around himself. Tugging once, twice. Dragging the tip to where it peeked out from under the waistband. Sticky precum glistening in a strand leading to his belly.

You’re tired, baby? Let me draw you a bath. Yes, of course I’ll join you. Don’t worry.

Stroke after stroke, he immersed himself in his fantasy.

But first, tell me where it hurts. Trust me. I’ll take care of you.

It was a secret he’d take to the grave. How much he wanted to be the one you sought after practice. Still dressed in your leotard. Smelling of chalk, sweat, and foam. Providing you with the needs you neglected. Nurturing you in the ways he could. Your muscles are sore? Let me massage them for you. Your thighs are shaking? Come lay down, my Light.

Eddie tried to keep his breathing level as he rocked side to side, shoving his jeans and boxers down. It was torture telling you to come back to Hawkins when he knew he wouldn’t act on his impulses and learn the different ways you could articulate his name.

Just friends. Just friends, he told himself as his skilled hand tamed his urges. Fitting his palm to the underside, fingers curled with his index lifted from the rest, black ring glimmering as he slid his grip upwards. A pleasant brush over the lipped edge. Itching for more, but some part of him wanted to savor the novelty of talking to you while he touched himself. Sullying the image of his perfect girl on her way to becoming an Olympian.

If only you knew how young he was when this idea first sprang to his mind..

What about between those strong thighs, sweetheart? I can make you feel better there, too.

Oh, how he wanted to bury himself there.

His hips jerked. Pumping his fist without his permission. He wanted to make this last. Explore those visions which became more frequent after seeing you train at the rec center. Delve into this region of the late-night images he tried to resist as of late, only to wake up covered in a mess. Dreaming of fucking his best friend and how gently he’d do it.

God, what he would give to have that reality. You sitting on the bed. Any bed. How he’d kneel before you on the floor, running his hands up your calves. Treating you to his thumbs massaging into the muscle. Relaxing you after a long day of training. Gazing into your eyes as he inserted himself between your legs. Slipping his fingers beneath the straps of your leotard, peeling it away from your exhausted body, sliding it over your shoulders. Chasing open-mouth kisses over the unclean skin he wasn’t familiar with. Salt mixing with his spit. Lapping at the column of your throat. Grazing his teeth over your pulse. Lower. Cherishing your warmth. Lower. Teasing the flesh responding to his prompting. He needed to go lower as you tangled his hair in your fists.

Stripping your upper half from the confining uniform, he would expose you for his veneration only. Pursuing where your stuttered speech commanded him. As tender as his hand cradling the back of your head lowering you to the mattress. As enthusiastic as his lips discovering boundaries beyond your friendship.

Even in his fantasies, every now and then, he’d keep your clothing on. He’d never admit he liked it in some ways. Implying how unhinged he was in taking you, that he couldn’t wait for you to undress.

He’d simply trace the edge of your leotard cutting from the crease of your hip to where you begged him to serve you. Moving the fabric aside to flirt, and lick, and suckle until his name was muffled from your thighs enclosing around his face, bucking against his tongue tasting you for the first time. Hailing him to the heavens as he honored you on his knees.

Then, he’d flip you over. Snatch the backside of your tight clothing and wedge it between your round ass. Hiking your hips up with a firm slap on your leg. Outlining your plump pussy under the taut fabric covered in the praise he gave you. Obeying the overwhelming desire to grind himself into the curve of your cunt and add his own decadence dripping down your beautiful thighs.

Fuck, he didn’t mean to sigh your name as he stroked his cock.

“Can we talk about anything else?” you asked.

Smothering the phone against his chest, Eddie rolled onto his shoulder and swirled his tongue around his mouth a few times, then spat into his hand.

It was a miracle he could speak with clarity.

“Of course.” Could you hear the lewd slap he was making, driving his hand up and down his shaft, trying and failing to keep a moderate pace? “Anything exciting you want to tell me?”

“Mmm,” you drew out the hum and he swore he could feel the vibration in his chest. “I’m going to New Jersey next week with a few girls from the team. We’re going to the beach.”

Faster. An open invitation for him to picture you in a bikini. Running his hands up your waist to the underside of your tits. Letting an accident take place; a loose string, and he’d have to help cover you up, and you’d thank him for being so chivalrous by using your mouth.

“Sounds cool. Never been to the beach.”

“One of them has a camera, so I can take some pictures for you. We went last year, too. The ocean’s really pretty.”

Faster, again, because your voice was getting huskier. A hushed caress along his cheek. Likely because you were falling asleep on him, but he didn’t care. Didn’t care. Didn’t care. So sweet and soft for him. Easing his fingers over his cock to your pretty voice coming from your pretty mouth. Each pump, each digit, each squeeze and twist of his wrist at the top bringing him closer to the edge.

There it was again–your quiet intake of breath being released as a whiny plea away from the phone.

Head tipped, he choked back a groan, and thrusted into his fist as if his palm were you, no longer concerned about the consequences of being caught.

You kept him on the line, “Tell me what you’ve been up to.”

Oh, baby.

Observing his red knuckles in a bout of lucidity, he played up his complaining to garner your sympathy, “Playing mechanic around the trailer park. Gotta be the one to fix everything for everybody. My hand got a little scraped up, though.”

“Aw,” you purred, “Want me to kiss it better?”

This was it. This was it. He was gonna–

Feathery, jumpy sentences spilled from his mouth all at once, “Hey–sweetheart–something just came up. I’ll call you back. Okay?”

You stuttered as well–an Angel’s hymn to his devilish ways, “Y-Yeah. Bye.”

He didn’t have time to hang up.

Slamming the phone to the side of his mattress, he prayed you couldn’t hear his groan of your name break on his tongue. Silent moans escaping past his sealed lips when he dropped his head back. Toes curling right as his thighs twitched and flexed. Erratic movements interrupting his rhythm. Panting as a throb trembled him. Desperately fucking a poor replacement for his best friend’s pussy.

“That’s it–fuck.”

Chest falling in great huffs, he watched his cum land on his shirt, covering him while his strokes faltered, slowed, using his dripping climax as lube. Body jerking from overstimulation. Sliding his thumb over the intoxicating nerves telling him to stop. But it felt so good to picture you straddling him, bouncing relentlessly until he was begging for mercy.

“Holy shit,” he sighed. And then a disenchanted, “Jesus,” as he looked at the mess cooling on his skin, alone in his bed, clear-headed and aware he would never have what he wanted, despite the temporary stupidity clouding his mind moments ago, encouraging him to risk it all.

A sober realization after the best orgasm he’d experienced in his recent years.

Racing heart on the decline, he faced his fears and picked up the phone.

When the dial tone reached him, he mumbled something in relief and let it fall to the floor, listening to the cord drag it back into the hallway while he body went lax, and his vision went dark with his arms crossed over his face.

————

Your phone sat crooked on the receiver.

“Ed–” you couldn’t complete his name, lost to the aftershocks of your climax. Circling your fingers again, and again, over your sensitive clit until, at last, you couldn’t handle more, and went languid. Blinking at the blurry ceiling, accepting it was time to surrender to your drowsy eyelids and sleep.

Reaching for the lamp, you noticed the phone wasn’t hung up. You scrambled for it, and held it up to your ear, listening to the other end of the line. More staticky fabric noise.

Eddie probably drank more than he let on and dropped it again. Meaning he didn’t hear you coach him into fucking you harder, faster at the height of your yearning. Thank God.

You ended the call for him.

That was close.

Taglist: @xxhospital-for-soulsxx @myfavoritesareproblematic @henhouse-horrors @tlclick73 @sidthedollface2 @i-will-duckyou-up @qnsfwthoughts @captainonaboat @eddiemuns0nl0ver @godcreatoreli @harrys-tittie @eg-dr3amer3 @trixyvix88 @venomsvl @lacrymosa-24 @sashaphantomhive @sharp-and-swift @emokid-ellie @mantorokk-writes @drdvlss @mirrorsstuff @bebe0701 @eddiethesexy 

[ravingramblings]

Fated Order: Twisted Wonderland

Ch 1: No Rest for the Wicked

    The Remnant Order is underway and you've already solved 2 of the Psuedo-Singularities. After having a debriefing with Mash and Da Vinci, you head to your room to shower and get some well deserved rest. You turn the lights off and climb into your bed, pulling the covers up and getting comfortable. Closing your eyes, you swiftly drift off to sleep, exhausted. 

    In your dreams, you see a mirror. Green flames flicker in the mirror's reflection. An unknown male speaks.

    "Ah, my dear esteemed benefactor… My proud, beautiful flower of evil. You are truly the fairest one of all. O magic mirror, thy wisdom I entreat… Reveal unto me the visage I seek…"

    A black carriage is drawn by horses toward a gate. On the other side stands what seems to be a massive castle with many spires. The full moon illuminates the path ahead. The scene returns to that of the mirror, and the voice speaks once more.

    "You, whose image the Dark Mirror did beckon forth… If your heart bids it, take the hand of the one reflected in the mirror."

     The silhouette of a hand takes shape within the mirror, enticing. The image is replaced by that of a vermillion flame.

    "As flame reduces even the stars to ash…"

    A shard of ice appears next.

   "As ice seals away even time itself…"

    Vibrant green energy swirls within the glass.

    "As great trees even swallow the sky…"

The imagery fades to black once more. 

    "Fear not the power of darkness. Now – demonstrate your power."

    A bright light grows, originating from the mirror, until it completely overtakes your vision. Then, nothing but darkness and that mysterious voice.

    "To me. To them. To yourself. The hour grows long and time is scarce. Keep steady your grip, no matter what may come…"

     You're startled out of the dream by the sound of something trying to open a locked door. You open your eyes to complete darkness. Feeling around, you seem to be in an enclosed space. Had you been unconscious in your coffin upon your return from a rayshift? That can't be right, considering there would probably be a lot more commotion had that been the case. So what happened then?

    "I better hurry up and find that uniform before someone spots me…" Somewhat of a nasally, quirky, whiny voice speaks from the other side of the door.

     This is also a voice you've never heard before. Could this be a random staff member you've never spoken to before? Why are they looking for a uniform in your coffin? Why do they fear getting caught?

      "Urggggh… This lid weighs a ton!" 

       Did the coffin door get stuck? You try pushing on it from the inside. 

       "Try this on for size! Mya-ha!" 

        You don't think you like where this is going. Suddenly, blue flames overtake the front of the coffin and you yelp. You kick open the door at the same time it gives way. The first thing that occurs to you is that this is not Chaldea. But that's to focus more on later; more importantly you bat down the bit of flame sparking on your robes, of which you've never seen before. 

        "What?! You ain't supposed to be awake!" You now see that the voice belongs to a gray, cat-like creature with flaming ears and a forked tail. You assume it's a magical beast or something, because last time you checked cats don't look like that, nor do they talk. 

         "What are you? A hellcat?" You squint at the small creature in front of you.

          "How… How DARE YOU! I am no mere CAT! I'm Grim, sorcerer extraordinaire!" 

          "Fou!" Out from your coffin pops none other than Fou. Curious how he always manages to sneak along with you. The small beast scampers onto your shoulder and perches there. 

          "That thing is more of an animal than I am! Tch. Whatever. You… human! Just gimme your uniform, and be quick about it!"

          You cross your arms. "I have a name, you know? And why would I give you the clothes that I'm wearing? They're the only thing I'm wearing and they wouldn't fit you, since they're human sized." Fou makes a sound in what seems to be agreement.

         "Oh-ho! You got a lotta nerve talking back to me, human! The name's Grim. Believe me, you won't forget it! Now gimme your uniform, and be quick about it! Cause if you don't… you're going to regret it!" Blue flames flicker to life again and lick at your legs.

          Jumping back, you yell at him, "Hey! Stop trying to roast me, you little rat! You're gonna set this whole place ablaze!" 

          You start to hear a muffled yelp from another coffin, accompanied by some commotion from inside. Next thing you know, the lid flies open and out jumps your dearest kouhai, Mash. 

         "Senpai, are you in trouble? I'm here to help!" She rushes over to you with a determined look on her face. 

         "Hey, come on! I'm on a tight schedule here!" 

          More fire spews forth from the cat-like beast and Mash maneuvers you both away from its reach, grabbing your hand and making a run for it. You burst through a set of doors and dash down an open corridor. You pass what seem to be classrooms and a perfectly trimmed courtyard. At last you both flee into a library. It's like one you've never seen before, and there are a couple of books literally floating around. You take a second to catch your breath.

          "Hey, Mash? Do you happen to know where we are? Cause I have no clue." 

          As soon as you finish speaking, you feel a flare of heat and Mash pushes you away from it again. Standing there, looking smug, is the hellspawn. 

          "Foolish humans! Did you really think you could slip away from ME? Now, unless you wanna get burned to a crisp, take off those– Me-YEOW! That hurt! What gives?"

         Behind Grim stands a pale man, dressed in a suit, holding the offending whip. He hosts a coat with an impressive blue collar and plenty of dark feathers. On his face is a crow-like mask that covers only the top half of his face. The man has beady gold eyes, pointed ears, and wavy black hair. The black top hat on his head has a blue ribbon around the base, with a decorative mirror, keys, and a feather arranged aesthetically. 

        "Consider it tough love," he starts to scold the gray beast. He then turns to you and Mash. "Ah, I've found you at last. Splendid. I trust you both are some of this year's new students? My, were you ever eager to make your debut." He crosses his arms. "And bringing a poorly trained familiar with you? That is a clear violation of the school's rules."

          His voice rings a bell, but you can't tell why. Also, this does seem to be a school, but not any that you are familiar with. 

          "As if I'd serve some lowly human! Now lemme go!"

          "Yes, yes. Rebellious familiars always say that. Do be quiet for a bit, won't you?" The mysterious man places a hand over Grim's mouth.

          "Mmmrrph!"

          "Yeah, he's not my familiar, I've never even seen his species before today. If anything, Fou here is more like my familiar than that little guy." You shake your head, disagreeing with the man's assumption, before motioning to the small beast still perched on your shoulder. 

          Unfortunately, it seems he completely ignores you. "Dear me. Of all the students I've dealt with, you two are the first with temerity enough to open their own gates and step out of them." 

           You go to speak up, but he continues to scold you.

           "Does the very notion of patience elude you? No matter. Your orientation has already begun. Let us return to the Mirror Chamber."

           "Uhhh, student? I don't recall signing up for school." You look over at Mash and she shrugs back at you. 

          "You awakened in a room full of gates, did you not? All of the students here at the campus arrived by passing through such gates. Although typically the students have restraint enough to wait until I open them before waking up."

          "Yeah, so, that hellcat totally tried to cremate me within mine, so no way I was staying in there. Then Mash heard the commotion and decided to help me not get roasted alive."

          "Yes, I helped my senpai evade the flames and we ended up running down here." She nods resolutely.

          "Fou-fouuu!"

          "You're the one who insisted on bringing it, so curtailing its behavior is your responsibility!" He raises a hand to his chin, "But now is not the time for such prattle. You've a student orientation to attend! Go on, now. Make haste." 

           You deadpan. He's been prattling this entire time. "Well, first of all, where are we exactly?" 

           Mash nods. "Yes, this does not seem to be the Clocktower, nor the Atlas Institute." 

           "Hm? Have neither of you fully regained consciousness? The timespace teleportation must have addled your memories… Well, these things happen, I suppose. I shall explain it to you while we walk. Truly, my magnanimity is boundless."

         With that the man turns and starts to walk back the way you came, Mash and yourself following after him. However, you both follow at a distance, so you can speak to one another without him hearing. 

         "So far, our situation seems pretty bizarre, but that's not too unordinary for us. I think I remember going to sleep in my bed last night, so I have no clue how we got here; I assume that's the same for you. We don't know where 'here' is yet, he didn't seem to recognize the Clocktower, nor the Atlas Institute. We seem to be in more modern times, considering our surroundings, and they know of magic,  however not of some of the most famous modern magic institutions."

          Mash nods and enters her own input, "These uniforms are not any I recognize either, and the magical energy feels different here. It's not quite on the same scale as the Age of Gods, but not quite the same as our modern magic either. We need to see if we can set up a connection with Chaldea, so we can communicate with them."

          "Let's prioritize finding the nearest leyline, if any, and finding out more information on where we are." 

           Mash nods in response to your order, "Yes, Master, orders received!"

           You find yourselves back in the courtyard when the man begins to speak again, "Ahem. This is Night Raven College. It is an institution for students the world over who demonstrate a rare aptitude for magic. It is the most prestigious academy of its sort in all of Twisted Wonderland. And I am Dire Crowley. Having been entrusted with its care by the chairman, I serve as headmage.” 

“Twisted… Wonderland?” You question, your expression scrunching up in confusion. You and Mash share an inquisitive look, then direct your attention back to Crowley. “And you have magic here?”

“Only those who the Dark Mirror perceives as having a talent for magic are admitted to the college. Those who are selected are summoned to the campus through those “gates”, which can appear anywhere. A black carriage bearing one such gate should have come to meet you.”

This elicits a hum from your throat as you bring a hand up to your mouth in contemplation. What he’s describing sounds like the strange dream or vision that lingers in the recesses of your mind. “I recall a dark forest…” You mutter to yourself. Mash looks at you curiously.

“Senpai?”

“That black carriage serves to receive a student chosen by the Dark Mirror. It too bears a gate that connects to this campus. And, as you know, sending a carriage to meet someone on a special day is a time-honored tradition,” Crowley says matter-of-factly. 

“Huh? Time-honored tradition? Where and since when?” You shake your head in confusion. Mash looks at you and shrugs, looking just as lost as you are. 

Grim starts to fuss at this, squirming in Crowley’s grasp. “Mmfff! Mmmmmmfff!”

“Now, let us attend to your orientation,” the headmage ushers you all along, bringing you all back to the mirror chamber. 

As your group enters, you hear voices speaking, the first of which being a boy with hair as red as a rose and eyes a striking silver. “We’re done with orientation and dorm assignments? All right, new students - let me be clear. At Heartslabyul House, I am the law. Break the rules, and it’s off with your head!” 

The next to speak up is a dark-skinned boy with long, brown hair, sharp green eyes, and lion ears that occasionally twitch, proving their authenticity. It’s a bit odd, as you don’t quite know what he is, but he’s certainly not a Servant. He yawns, looking extremely done with everything. “Well, that ceremony was as boring as ever. I’m going back to the dorm. If you’re in Savanaclaw House, follow me.” 

“New students! Allow me to be the first to congratulate you on your achievement,” this comes from a boy with glasses, silvery hair and eyes, and a beauty mark near the bottom corner of his mouth. “As dorm leader of Octavinelle House, I am honored to have the opportunity to support you in what I hope will be a fulfilling campus experience.”

Another voice speaks up to address the group, the owner being a very handsome boy with lilac colored eyes and shiny, blonde hair with purple highlights. “Hey, does anyone know where the headmage went? He disappeared midway through the ceremony…”  He trails off.

Before any from your group can announce your presence, yet another voice chimes in. Though, when you look for the origin, you notice it comes from a floating tablet. “Some headmage he is.” 

“Maybe he had a tummyache?” Another boy with dark skin responds; he has short, white hair and ruby red eyes. 

Crowley finally pipes up, “I most certainly did not!”

“Ah, speak of the devil,” the first boy mutters once more.

Ignoring this, the headmage continues. “If you must know, I was searching for the new students who’d failed to show for orientation. You two are the only ones who have yet to be assigned to a dorm. Step up to the Dark Mirror, and be quick about it. I’ll watch your weasel.” 

Grim growls in response to this.

“Again, not mine, but whatever,” you mutter under your breath as you and Mash step up to the Dark Mirror. 

Mash goes first, gazing deep into the mirror as it sizes her up.

“State your name.” A face that looks more like a mask is present within the mirror, a scowl etched into its features. 

“I am Mash, Mash Kyrielight,” she states, clearly and confidently.

“Mash. The nature of your soul is… unclear to me.”

“What did you just say?” Crowley questions in bewilderment.

“Magic resides in her, this much is true. However, it does not suit this place. The sound of it, its color, and its shape are not any that I’ve bore witness to before. Therefore, no dorm would be appropriate.” 

Everything is silent for a moment, then the headmage gestures for you to take your place in front of the mirror.

“State your name,” the mirror states again.

“Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

“Y/F/N. The nature of your soul… is the same, it does not suit this place.”

Silence takes over once more, then Crowley asks, “Are you suggesting that the black carriage went to retrieve two people who are incompatible? But that is absurd! The student selection process has not erred once in its century of existence! How could this have happened?” He brings his hand up to his face curiously.

Grim struggles until he frees himself. “Mmmph! Nnnrgggh… ME! Let ME have this student’s seat!” 

The headmage glares at the small beast, “Not so fast, you hyperactive weasel!”

“Unlike those humans, I totally belong here! So let me be a student here!” Grim crosses his arms with a smirk. “Look, I’ll show you! My spells’re the cat’s meow!”

Almost as if sensing the coming chaos, the red haired boy shouts out in warning, “Everyone, get down!”

With what seems to be his best attempt at a roar, Grim unleashes a burst of blue flames within the room. Mash quickly covers you with her body, materializing into her Servant’s attire and manifesting her shield. 

The boy with red eyes begins to yell. “AHHHHH! HELP! I’m on fire over here!” He frantically hops about, his tail end smoking. You rush over to help pat out the flame. 

“Someone catch that blasted animal before it sets the entire school ablaze!” The headmage shouts out.

The boy with the lion ears sighs, “Ugh. Can I go now, or…?”

“Oh? I thought you fancied yourself a hunter. Go and help yourself to that plump little morsel!” The handsome boy raises a brow with a smirk.

“Too much effort. Do it yourself,” the lion eared boy immediately quips back.

“Allow me to handle this, Headmage Crowley. If none of you are up to the task of catching a small animal, I will accept the responsibility.” Magnanimously, the boy with the glasses offers.

“WTG Azul. Rackin’ up those participation credits,” the tablet sounds off.

The boy with the red eyes looks at you with a bright smile. “Ah! Thank you! You really saved me there!”

“I’m sorry, were my instructions unclear?!” Crowley exclaims, frustrated. 

Entirely uncaring, the green eyed boy responds, “Preeetty sure you can handle catching one mangy weasel all on your lonesome there, headmage.” 

  “How many times do I gotta say it? I’m Grim, spellcaster extraordinaire! I am NOT a weasel!” The offending creature continues to run his mouth, much to all of your chagrin. 

Azul chimes in, “Aren’t you a spunky little fellow? Riddle, would you be so kind…?”

“Furry miscreant. I will abide no rule-breaking. You will be judged by my hand.” 

Riddle and Azul begin to chase after the creature and you turn to look at Mash. “Mash, go and help them. I’ll stay and help out here!”

“Orders received, Master!” And with that, Mash runs off to aid the two mages in subduing the cat beast. 

**I do not own Disney's Twisted Wonderland, Fate: Grand Order, or any of the characters present in either series, all proper rights belong to the proper owners.**

[amostexcellentblog]

The Hangman's Guide to Winning Over Your Disapproving Admiral-In-Law

Step 2: Keep Your Cool At All Times

(Part 1)

Maverick: Bradley, I was looking over the seating chart and you can't have Penny and Merlin at the same table, there's some bad blood over an allegedly unpaid bar tab that...

Hangman: *Enters, ignoring Mav and Ice* Hey babe, funny story. I just got off the phone with my dad, something that hasn't happened in 3 years, give or take. But it seems he wanted to personally respond to the wedding invitation he'd just got. Our wedding invitation.

Hangman: *Eerily Calm* He was, understandably, surprised to get one, seein' as he's made no secret of his distaste for my "lifestyle choices" as he calls it, but he told me in no uncertain terms neither he nor my mama will be attending this "afront to the holy act of matrimony." And that he hoped I didn't invite anyone else in the area, because that would be so embarrassing for him, having his wayward son shoving his decadent lifestyle in their pious faces. What would the neighbors say? How would this look at the club? Not to mention at church? He's on consistory you know! But hey, he says he still loves me. He hopes that one day I'll find Jesus and return to the fold. So there's that.

Hangman: The funny thing is, I didn't send him an invitation. In fact, I specifically remember saying to you that I didn't want any of my family at the wedding. And yet, somehow my dad got an invite.

Rooster: Jake, I thought... I'm sorry, I just wanted to...

Hangman: NO! You listen to me Bradley Bradshaw. I spent years trying to win that man's approval, and I'm still teaching myself that I don't need it. He fucked me up so bad I'm not sure where the real me ends and the self-hate he ingrained in me begins. There is no happy ending for me where that man is in my life! I thought you understood that?

Rooster: I do...

Hangman: Then why did you go behind my back? Treat me like I'm a project for your bleeding heart to fix? Did you think you'd just make a speech, he'd see the light and we'd hug it out? FUCK YOU!! The funny thing is, now I don't think there's gonna be a wedding. If you can't take me as I am, then what's the point?

Rooster: *After Hangman Exits* I just wanted him to get what we did.

Maverick: I know Baby Goose, your intentions were good.

Iceman: But they were wrong, you hurt him and you need to apologize.

Rooster & Maverick: Huh?

Iceman: You need to apologize to Jake. Bradley, not all fathers love as unconditionally as Nick and Pete. Some love you in a way that comes with so many conditions it makes you feel like a pretzel contorting yourself into someone you're not just to win his approval. Until eventually you're so twisted up inside you can't remember how you're supposed to be and just resign yourself to a life of dull convention until you die. Or until a bratty pilot lights a fire in your soul that burns through all those knots and you feel like you can breathe for the first time in your life.

Iceman: Give him some time to cool off, then go apologize. And I mean really apologize. Grovel, make it clear you will never do anything like this again. He'll forgive you.

Rooster: Thanks Pops. And for the record, I always knew your love was unconditional too. *Exits*

Maverick: You know, that's the first time you've gotten Hangman's name right.

Iceman: What do you mean? I've never forgotten Jonathan's name.

(Cont)

[bellofthemeadow]

Blended Heart and Bitter Brews | part 1/?

Masterlist

Summary: Your life was boring, hoping for your big break, you were stuck at Starbucks for what felt like forever. The hot metalhead that just came through your door might just be the amount of shit-stirring fun you've been looking for. (2.4K)

A/N: Hey everyone, first time venturing into the Stranger Things fandom. I know I am late to the party lol, but I was off TUMBLR when the show came out and I've just recently started rewatching it and I had the need to write a series on everyone's favourite metalhead! Hope you all enjoy it and lmy what you think  😊

Warning: Swearing, suggestive language, reference to bratting and brat taming (18+)

Working at Starbucks isn’t the most glamorous job in the world. It wouldn’t even make the top 500 hundred in your opinion. The hours were long, the pay was mediocre at best, and you didn’t even want to think about the tips.

After 3 years on the job, you came to the very scientific conclusion that there was a direct correlation between your empty tip jar and the ungodly amount of Frappuccino you’d have to do on a given day. To the point: right now it was just shy of 2 pm, and you had been making so many of those blended abominations that the front of your apron looked like a unicorn and a leprechaun had an orgy on it. And your tip jar was empty. Go figure.

Starbucks was supposed to be a temporary gig, something to keep the cash flowing between college and your big break. Unfortunately, there was no big break in sight, no producers had called you back because, your sound was “too 80s, but like the wrong 80s” so you were still there serving tweens their daily fix of sugar. You wanted to ram your head on the counter, maybe you should dye your hair platinum and get into pop. Maybe then someone would sign you since the whole metal vibe just wasn’t doing it for anyone. You sighed, just 1 hour and then you’d be free. At least for today, until you’d have to do it all again tomorrow. To avoid having a mental breakdown in the middle of the coffee shop, you distracted yourself by mentally running through the list of things you had to do when you got home:

Go grocery shopping. Nah you were positive you still had fruit loops; Grocery could wait.

Go over your demo. AGAIN

Therapy Oh yeah you couldn’t afford that. Maybe a good crying session to end the night.

Go grocery shopping. Nah you were positive you still had fruit loops; Grocery could wait.  GET BEN & JERRY

Yeah, that should do it.

As you were mentally ticking things off, you heard the shrill voice of a girl at the counter order, “I wanna Venti Caramel Frappuccino with extra whip and a blended cake pop inside. Oh, and with Skim milk!” Of course. Fuck that!

You groaned and pushed your way to the till where the newly hired 19-year-old was taking the order, “Swap with me.” You made sure that your tone left no place for arguments. “Ehhh, I’m taking an order.” Looks like new girl didn’t get the tone memo, “I’ll take the orders from now on, you go work the bar.”

“But I am in the middle of tak…” “Ok look, that’s great, hard-worker is such a good look for you. But I think I’m not making myself clear here; You are going to swap the bar with Me because if I have to make another fucking Frappuccino, I will set this place on fire with everyone inside! Capish?”

Silence.

Suddenly a loud guffaw reverberated from somewhere towards the end of the already long line. Your coworker and the girl at the till looked horrified. But your monumental side-eye was the last nail into the proverbial coffin because Emma didn’t try to argue with you and instead, scurried over to the coffee bar.

Victory.

You turned toward the girl and plastered the fakest smile you could on your face “And what did you say you wanted?” The girl looked like she was going to puke on your counter “… I’ll have a grande latte… Is iced, ok?”

You smiled broadly “One grande ice latte coming right up, did you want skim milk with that?” “Oh no, no. Just regular is fine,” She stuttered.

“Great just gonna need to add your name and that’ll be 4.00 $.” “… Its Josie.” Sacharine smile plastered on your face, “Great Josie, you can go and wait by the bar over there.” You dismissively pointed in the general direction of the farthest end of the bar, “I can take whoever’s next!”

For the next couple of minutes, your other customers were rather accommodating, ordering black coffees and lattes with no mod for once.  “All right next!” You passed down the cup for a “Grande Americano for Josh” toward Emma who was still doing her best to avoid any form of eye contact. You snorted a bit, to say that Emma might be a bit oversensitive was an understatement, maybe you’d apologized after your shift… Maybe.

You turned your eyes to the new customer in line and you couldn’t help but raise a brow at the yummy stud that just stepped up to your till.  You licked your lips appreciatively; the guy must be around your age, with shaggy brown hair, big brown puppy eyes and plush lips you wanted to snap between your teeth. The guy was totally your type too, you spotted how his slightly ripped 1991 “Wherever We May Roam” Metallica tour t-shirt was hiking up his belly revealing a toned stomach. But what really made you salivate was the sight of his numerous tats that decorated both his arms. You could also peek at some hiding under his collar.  Yummy.  

You gave him your best sultry smile, leaned forward, showcasing the unfortunate non-existence of your cleavage as it was all covered by your apron, and coyly purred, "And what can I get you today, handsome?"

Hot dude seemed happy with your flirting as he responded with a reciprocating smile before leaning forward. You were so close that you could almost trace the tattoos (were those bats?!) decorating his forearms. He hummed as though contemplating it, then offered you a sultry smile. You were more than happy to respond with your best fuck-me eyes.

Suddenly his sexy smile transformed into a wide shit-eating grin before he boomed loudly, “I’ll have a Venti Caramel Frappuccino, extra drizzle, extra caramel and extra whipped cream.”

Time stopped. Crickets chirping. Jaw Dropped

What in the actual fuck?!

You jerked your head back and grumbled. Displeasure etched on your face. Hot dude wasn’t so hot anymore as you reluctantly entered the order into the cash register. "Whatshisface" still wore that irritating grin as he leaned forward even further, granting you a clear view of his sharp collarbones. He began to toy with some of the chocolate-covered coffee beans next to your cash register. "You touch it, you buy it," you grumbled.

His Cheshire cat-like grin grew even larger, if that was even possible, and he let out a loud tut. “Aw sweetheart, you don’t have to get all bratty on me. Come on, I know under that little metal act you got goin’ on, you wanna be a good girl for me.” He finished with a little wink that made you want to shove the napkin holder on his stupid handsome face.

“That’ll be 9.85 $” Grin gone. Whatshisface looked completely flabbergasted, “9.85$?!? In what world do you live in that you think its ok to charge so much for a cup of coffee!?” He loudly gasped, affronted.

You flashed your most charming smile and fluttered your eyelashes innocently, much to your delight, you noticed the tips of his ears beginning to blush. In a syrupy tone, you purred “Well sir the caramel, the extra drizzle AND the extra whipped are all extra charges. But I understand if that’s too expensive for you, perhaps you could move over and explore other parts of the menu that are more… within your means.”

Hook, line, and sinker

Hot dude turned an even deeper shade of red and began to rummage through the bag he was carrying, all the while muttering less-than-flattering expletives under his breath. You were fairly certain you heard him mutter a rather pointed “disrespectful little brat,” which senta delicious shiver straight to your core.

You were feeling quite triumphant and began tapping your manicured finger on the counter, a gesture that seemed to further irritate him. After a minute, he forcefully slid a crumpled $20 bill your way, bringing a smug grin to your face. After making a show of counting his change, you grabbed the venti cup and the black Sharpie. “And can I have your name for that?”

“…Eddie.” You slowly captured the cap of the Sharpie between your teeth and started writing his name on the side of the plastic cup. You added a wide smiley next to it for good measure.  You triumphantly noticed that Eddie gaze hadn't wavered from your mouth, as if entranced by the sight of the cap being gripped by your teeth. Maybe he was imagining something else between your lips, you snicker to yourself.

After sliding the cup over to Emma, who appeared as though she had just witnessed a car crash, before hurrying over to start his drink, you coquettishly cooed at him, “Well Eddie,” you made sure to enunciate every word as you tasted how his name felt in your mouth. “I hope you enjoy your… expensive drink, Tip jar is right here.” You gestured with your impeccably black manicured nail towards the nearly empty box "Don't you think I deserve it? After all, I’ve been such a gooood girl for you and did everything you wanted?" You batted your eyelashes, ensuring to add ample emphasis to drive your point home.

As for Eddie, well he looked like he was about to suffocate. Red and blotchy all over, you could also spot some sweat gathering on his forehead. You almost started to pity the poor guy when he tried to stutter out a response to your teasing. Almost.

 In the end, Eddie dropped a couple of ones in the small glass before making his way toward the end of the bar. You also noticed how he had a slightly slouched gait—probably because you'd turn his attempt at embarrassing you on him. He finally stopped in front of where Emma was making his sugared monstrosity. As you were taking the next order, you could feel Eddie’s gaze burning your body. So, you made sure to give him a good show, laughing extra hard at the lame jokes from the college boy you were serving. Bending down a bit too low to grab an extra roll of receipt paper giving him a good view of your shapely ass, drawing large hearts on every cup and flirtatiously referring to every guy in your line with endearments like "sugar" or "handsome."

“A VENTI CARAMEL FRAPPUCINNO WITH EXTRA CARAMEL, EXTRA DRIZZLE AND EXTRA WHIP FOR EATDICK!!!”

“Jesus Christ, no need to scream in my ears like that.” Eddie, looking mortified, snatched his drink before sitting down at one of the empty tables. One of the only ones with a perfect view of the counter. You gleefully observed how Eddie nearly spat out his drink after taking the first sip, probably dying a little bit inside at the taste of the artificial sweeteners that must invaded his mouth.  Quite the smooth move, jackass.

You looked at the time, as your other coworker Jenson joined you behind the bar to relieve you of your minimum wage duties, “I’ll just make myself a drink and then I’m outta here!” You whoop, Jenson acquiesced with a shrugging smile before taking over the till. You shuffle toward the bar area and snicker as you start to make yourself an extra special drink.

“Hey Jenson, can you do something for me real quick after I leave?”

Eddie is grudgingly drinking the caramel monstrosity he ordered. His own fault really, he’s always been a black coffee kind of guy. When he was younger, he started to order it black because it fitted his whole metal vibe; “Black like my soul,” he’d ordered with a wink to the old-timey dinner waitress back in Hawkins. But now that he moved to Indianapolis to chase his music dreams, he realized that he couldn't enjoy coffee unless it was as bitter as the disappointment that people had in him.

While he wasn't usually a Starbucks person, he had stayed up until 4 am this morning after playing a gig downtown. And to top it off, he had to be at work on the dock by 6 am, leaving him with barely any time to sleep in between. At this point, he would have traded his soul for a coffee. So, when he spotted the Starbucks on his way home, he just had to stop. Mindlessly scrolling on his phone for any notifications of Corroded Coffin, you took him right out of his zombie-like trance when you shrieked about setting the place on fire. He hadn’t been able to stifle his laughter at your words. To top it off, you were hot, as fiery as the arson you threatened everyone with. So, when he reached the till and saw that his attraction was completely reciprocated, he couldn't help but tease you a bit.

He just hadn’t banked on you being such a brat. Now he was sitting alone with an almost inedible caramel concoction of his own making, swimming in the bitter disappointment of having made a fool of himself in front of you. As he was simmering in his annoyance, a cup of steaming Americano was placed in front of him. He raised his head fast and looked at the sheepish expression of a lanky guy with a freckled face, “I didn’t order that…”

“Eh, well she made it for you. Told me to give it to you after she left.”

Eddie’s head snapped back to the bar where you had disappeared. A bitter taste of disappointment coated his mouth as he realized he hadn’t even gotten your number, “Thanks, man.” The guy gave him a sharp nod in response before making his way back to the till where a line was slowly forming again.

Eddie took a deep breath, inhaling the tangy smell of the black coffee. Exactly what he needed.  As he was about to take a sip, black writing on the side of the cup got his attention.

Hey hot stuff, You looked like you wanted to put me back in my place back there 😉 I’d like to see you try, call me at xxx-xxx-xxxx -Little brat

A huge grin broke out on Eddie’s face as he took a sip of his coffee, letting the bitter liquid burn down his throat.

Today turned out to be pretty metal after all.

Part 2: The Phone Call

[the-whispers-of-death]

(maybe hellstorm angst where pilot!reader is recruited for a super dangerous mission because he’s young and ‘expendable’)

Hellstorm barged into the Rear Admiral's office, silently seething. The Rear Admiral was sitting at his desk, looking at papers, and Hellstorm went straight towards him.

"You picked {Name} for the newest mission?" he asked, trying to keep his tone neutral, though it was clear from the tick in his jaw that he wasn't happy with this.

"I did pick him for the new mission, he's the most qualified," the Rear Admiral replied, seeming unfazed at the rising heat in the air. "Besides, you've never cared about other pilots before, Commander."

Hellstorm's jaw clenched even harder. "I don't care about him," he said, spitting the sentence out like the words were bitter on his tongue. "I care that you're needlessly sending a young pilot out on a suicide mission because he's deemed "expendable" to you higher-ups."

The Rear Admiral bristled at the accusation Hellstorm so carelessly threw out, setting down his pen and looking up at Hellstorm. "This is not a suicide mission, Commander. {Name} will be fine," he explained.

"Then send me instead."

The silence that came after Hellstorm's words was deafening, the Rear Admiral staring at the other man like he was seeing someone new for the first time. And perhaps he was, considering Hellstorm had never felt so strongly about anyone before. Hellstorm had never even felt so strongly about himself before.

Here he was though, telling the Rear Admiral to send him instead. Like some savior, which couldn't be farther from the truth of who Hellstorm was as a person. He didn't care, he wasn't supposed to care. Certainly not for some Lieutenant.

"Commander, I'm not sending you on the mission," the Rear Admiral responded after a while, shaking his head at Hellstorm's request.

"Because it's a suicide mission?" Hellstorm asked, prodding and trying to bait the Rear Admiral into admitting it was a suicide mission. If he could do that, maybe you wouldn't be sent on this mission.

The Rear Admiral knew what he was doing though and his jaw clenched, his eyebrows furrowed in anger. "No, Commander," he said, his voice cold as ice. "It's because you're needed here and you do not get to question my decisions. You've done well with following orders up until now and you'll consider to do so, or face punishment. Am I clear?"

Hellstorm wanted to scream, wanted to make even more of a scene that he was already doing. But instead he reached down inside of him to the apathy that always laid within his reach and he pulled it over his emotions, suppressing them.

His face took on a bored expression like always, nodding his head to the Rear Admiral. "Crystal clear, sir," he replied, his voice monotone as always.

"You're dismissed, Commander."

With those words, Hellstorm turned on his heel and walked out of the office, closing the door behind him. He stood there, in the hallway, forcing himself to maintain his bored facade.

I don't care, I don't care, I don't care, Hellstorm chanted to himself like it was a mantra. He then walked to his barracks, leaving the thought of you behind.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)

[alphashley14]

One of Us

A Scooby Doo: Mystery Incorporated/Mystery Skulls Crossover

<Prev Next>

Chapter 21

Pay For My Sins

What happened? 

Ah, yes. He was in Shaggy’s body. And that was probably freaking her out just as much as her being alive was freaking him out. 

Where was he even supposed to begin answering that question? Ricky was still working out ‘what happened’ for himself. And he didn’t even know where to start with what he did know. With waking up in Shaggy’s body? No - he needed to tell her about the sitting room. And to tell her about that he needed to tell her about Nova and the Annunaki. But wait - Nova had wound up in a coma after Cassidy left. So he’d need to tell her about the Horrible Herd… and about the fact that he’d nearly helped Pericles destroy Crystal Cove. 

Uggghhhh there was too much… he didn’t want to talk about this. What he really wanted to know was, “How are you alive?” He croaked.

“You first,” Cassidy bumped the floor back to him.

“Well I don’t even know where to begin. You- *sniff* You died, Cassidy. You were dead. Velma told me how it happened. There was no way out of there, and yet you found one. So how?” 

“Well I don’t know either and what I do know is a long story,” Cassidy retorted, once again bouncing the demand for an explanation back at him like a game of ping-pong. 

“Try me,” Ricky dared, bouncing it back a little too aggressively. 

“You- just- please Ricky,” She pleaded, raising their joined fingers to hold his hand with both of hers. “At least tell me why you look… not like yourself.” 

Ricky swallowed down the butterflies dancing in his stomach and sighed. She’d been back from the dead for all of what? Fifteen minutes? And already they were… fuck, he didn’t want to argue with her. And she was right, really. Her being alive was unlikely. His current state was- should be impossible. 

“I’ve been… body-swapped,” Ricky admitted. “With Shaggy and Arthur.” 

Cassidy was so surprised she dropped his hand. “Shaggy… and Arthur?” 

Ricky shook his head incredulously. “Yep,” he half-laughed, popping the p. He’d kind of gotten used to it, but explaining it out loud to someone really put the ridiculousness in perspective all over again. “I’m in Shaggy’s body, Shaggy is in Arthur’s, and Arthur is in mine.” 

“Arthur was with the kids just now,” Cassidy said, thinking out loud. “So you mean to tell me that was-” 

“That was Shaggy, yes.” 

“Ohhh I was wondering what he was doing, and why he was wearing- where did you get this?” Cassidy asked, looking at his yellow and white striped shirt and lightly poking his jacket. 

“Daphne,” Ricky replied, as if that explained everything. 

“Ah,” Cassidy said, because that did explain everything. 

“We kept getting called by the wrong names,” Ricky shrugged. “The shirts-” He cleared his throat, trying to remedy the hoarseness from all the crying. “-The shirts remind everyone who’s who.” 

“Uh-huh… I can uh… see how that would be confusing but just- how did this even happen???” 

“That is… a perfectly reasonable question,” Ricky said perfectly evenly, pointing at her with a shaking finger. “And I’ll tell ya,” he laughed in spite of himself, “I just need you to keep in mind here… that I am completely serious about everything I am about to tell you. And it’s gonna sound insane. I’m gonna sound insane. Just know that I am not fucking with you.” 

“Baby. I survived killer robots and an exploding underwater lab, only to almost immediately meet a kitsune, a ghost, a girl with a magic ice bat, and a kid with a metal arm. Try me.” 

Ricky sighed and nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “I… guess it all started-” But Ricky was cut off mid-sentence by his own stomach growling. 

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuuuck! Not now! But his stomach growled again. Louder. Angrier. Hungrier. It was just like yesterday morning. In all the excitement, Ricky hadn’t realized just how hungry he was. It felt like his stomach was trying to eat itself. Was it like this for Shaggy every morning? Once again, his stomach snarled in ‘how-dare-you-go-this-long-without-food’. And Cassidy looked at his stomach like, ‘oh my God was that you?’ And his blood rushed to his face in ‘why-are-you-like-this?’ and his brain thought to itself: ‘can we just self-destruct on the spot please? Thank youuuu…’

“Uh… Shaggy’s body- comes with its challenges,” Ricky tried to laugh it off. 

But that was when Cassidy’s stomach growled. “I uh… haven’t eaten since the meal they gave us on the plane.” 

Ricky snorted. Cassidy giggled. And then they were laughing together in a way that they hadn’t since they were teenagers. Ricky doubled over, and Cassidy leaned back and clapped her hands. 

“This- haha- this is ridiculous!” Ricky cried between his laughter. 

“We’re ridiculous,” Cassidy agreed. 

That only made Ricky laugh harder until before he knew it, his guffaws gave way into sobs and- 

He was crying again. 

Why the fuck are you crying again?! 

And of course, Cassidy noticed.

“It- It really is you,” Ricky gasped, wiping his eyes. “I’m sorry- I don’t know- *sniff* I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Just- I’m sorry.”

“Ricky… it’s fine.” Cassidy put a hand on his shoulder, but he jerked away. He didn’t deserve it. 

“It’s not fine, Cassidy! Wait- sorry. I- I didn’t mean to snap. That came out wrong. I just meant… that’s not what I meant. Sorry…” Ricky put his head between his knees, his fingers in his hair, and forced himself to take deep breaths. 

You’re being ridiculous. You can’t talk when you’re hysterical like this. It’s stupid that you’re even crying. You’re a grown man, dammmit! Well- okay maybe not at this exact moment but on the inside you are what the fuck is wrong with you get a grip- 

Cassidy was touching him. Her hand was on his back, rubbing circles. 

He didn’t pull away this time. 

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

Another song had begun to play quietly from the dark recesses of the manor, harsh echoing beats of the keyboard like static with clashing crescendoing notes was the perfect accompaniment to the unease twisting her guts into knots.

What happened to you? 

The question stirring in Cassidy’s mind had made its way into her very bones. It was like there was a shaken soda can in her chest, the pressure building, expanding, steadily making its way towards that inevitable explosion. 

But she held it in. She watched. She listened. Because that was the only power she had right now. 

He jerked away at first, but Cassidy could tell - because she knew him, she knew him better than she had ever known anyone besides herself - that there wasn’t any anger behind it anymore. He was hurting, and he was scared, but this time he was trying not to push her away.

“Ba-by, I’ve been tryin’ to make shit right… For eeevry-one I’ve ever lied to…”

His snarky mask was the only way Mr. E knew how to deal with his pain. But Ricky Owens - Ricky used to talk to her. And maybe it was because he was technically seventeen again, but right now… 

Right now he didn’t look much like Mr. E at all. 

“With Mom and Dad, it was all fights…  But in the end it’s family that we are tied to…”

She waited for him to settle a little. Then she put her hand on his back. 

He jumped. But he didn’t pull away this time. 

“Lately I’ve been thinkin’ I’ve been too far gone, uh

“See, I’ve been tryin’ to pay for my sins. But they won’t take my money, baby…”

“Oh, I’ve been tryna pay for my sins!  Mh, but they won’t take my money, baby, oooh~”

Ricky finally sat up and licked his lips, but he didn’t look at her. “What I… what I was trying to say was…” 

“Oh, I’ve been tryna pay for my sins!  Mh, but they won’t take my money, baby, oooh~”

He swallowed and sniffed, then briefly wiped his nose with his sleeve. “What I um- what I said before… I’m sorry for exploding all over you like that. But uh… what I said. I know it didn’t come out right but… I need you to know. I meant every word.” 

Then he looked at her… suddenly she could hardly hear the music at all. Puffy eyed. Flushed. Tear stained. Broken, yet still going. The way he looked at her… she could see his very soul bared to her on that face. Every crack, scar, and open wound. Burdens as heavy as the sky itself. 

Most of them, Cassidy knew. 

Some of them, she carried too. 

But others… others were new. 

She asked herself again: What happened to you? 

“Cassidy I am so sorry,” Ricky said hoarsely, “For all of it. You were right about everything.” And the way he said it- the way he looked at her… as if he’d never meant anything more in his entire life. 

“Just give it a chance. Just give me a chance. Just give me a chance.”

“I was- I was wrong, and I should have listened to you. I- I don’t know what happened. It all went from protecting the kids to fighting Pericles, and then suddenly it became about the treasure. Mystery uh… The Mystery Skulls keep telling me I’m cursed. Or that I- that I was cursed. But… I don’t think that’s an excuse. I was selfish. And stupid. So, so fucking stupid. And because of me, people got hurt. You got hurt. I… Hurt you…” 

He trailed off, but she could see the horror written on his face. 

One of his burdens gained a name.

Ricky shook his head and cleared his throat. “And there’s… there’s only one thing I said earlier that I’ll take back. And that’s when I asked you how you could ever forgive me. Okay? Don’t-... Don’t forgive me… Just don’t. Because I don’t deserve it. And I’m never going to forgive myself.”

Cassidy was so stunned that at first she didn’t say anything. 

He apologized. He apologized! There was a time not so long ago when Cassidy thought she would never see the day. 

‘Don’t forgive me. I don’t deserve it. And I’m never going to forgive myself.’

The latter, she believed. 

But that face- ‘Don’t forgive me.’ His mouth said one thing but his eyes said something else. She could see guilt - but also that selfish wish we all have, for another chance. 

Maybe he didn’t deserve it. And Cassidy was still angry with him. One apology, no matter how sincere, wasn’t enough to change that. So for now at least, she did not forgive him.

But if he kept up whatever this was… then maybe one day she would. 

“Then I won’t.” And the way he deflated when she said it struck her right in the heart. But she wasn’t done yet. Once more, she took his hand in hers. “-But you’ve been one of the most important people in my life for over twenty years. I lost you for long enough - or maybe you lost yourself. Either way, I’m moving forward.” She lightly squeezed his hand. “-And this time I’m taking you with me.”

Ricky let out a choked, strangled noise and looked away, fast blinking before his emotions spilled out again. 

Finally, not meeting her eyes he croaked, “... Why?”

Cassidy took a while to answer that. Finally, she replied. “There was this kid I knew once. But someone hurt him, and he lost… everything. And the person he became as a result was very different from the boy I loved.” 

Ricky gulped. “... And what happened to that boy you knew?” 

“The rest of the world forgot about him, as if the man he became just appeared from thin air one day. But I never forgot about him. And as different as he was… he was still important to me. That’s why I stayed. Even though he was… lost. And made some pretty dumbass decisions. But I had hope that he’d get his shit together. And now that I think he has…” Cassidy trailed off, unblinking, staring pointedly at Ricky. “He doesn’t exactly look the same as I remember right now… but I’d know him anywhere."

“... I think he’s gone Cassidy,” Ricky whispered.

“I don’t think that’s true,” Cassidy disagreed firmly. “You look more like the real Ricky Owens right now than you have in over a decade, Ricky. Twenty years, and you finally get your shit together? I know what you’ve done… But I did not just get you back, only to shove you away.” 

“Maybe you should.” 

“Maybe I know that. And maybe don’t give a fuck.”

Ricky looked away sharply. They didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Then he whispered, “I thought I killed you…” 

Again, Cassidy had to take a minute before she knew what to say to that. 

“... Mystery told me that you had nothing to do with it… Is that true? Did you really not know?” 

Ricky shook his head, and his voice cracked. “No… And I swear I never would’ve let him if I knew. I’d’ve thrown him out… and he knew that.” Ricky’s voice hardened with rage as he gripped the edge of the step upon which he sat hard enough to turn his knuckles white. “He had to have fucking known that, because if he didn’t he wouldn’t have kept it from me!” Ricky started to shout, but he took a deep breath and checked his tone. 

“Cassidy,” he began again, “I swear. On. My. Mother’s. Grave. I didn’t know. About the robots or the fact that he was using them to attack you. Hell - I bet that’s why he used the damn robots. They weren’t Destroido assets, so there wouldn’t’ve been any way for me to find out what he was doing with them until he barged into my company with them!” 

Again, Ricky checked his tone. “-Sorry… the more I think about it, the angrier I get. But still… none of that changes the fact that your death… it would’ve been on me, Cassidy. You almost died. Because of me. And I’m going to have to live with that… for the rest of my days.” 

“Then explain it to me,” Cassidy said. “If you didn’t know, then tell me how it was your fault.” 

“I gave him the tools,” Ricky sighed. “He never would’ve had the resources to do what he did if it weren’t for me. The factory wasn’t mine and he did it behind my back, but he would’ve needed to use my assets to get it up and running again. Money, equipment, a submarine so that he could get down there to begin with… And secondly…” 

His whole body tensed. “-Because he said something needed to be done about you,” And he refused, refused to look at her when he confessed this sin. “... And I agreed with him."

"I don’t know what the wool over my eyes was made of. Was I so hopeful that I had my friend back? Did I just want so badly to think the best of him? Was I delusional? Stupid? Cursed? I don’t know! But I swear Cassidy, I swear on everything I hold dear. Somehow, it never even crossed my mind that- that he’d…” 

Ricky took a shuddering breath and swallowed before he continued. “I thought we were going to convince you to join us. Maybe threaten you. Convince you to leave town. And I know- I know how awful that sounds. It was awful. I’m awful. But at the time- at the time it seemed like what was best for everyone. But then he never said anything to me about it again, and eventually I noticed that it had been a while since I’d heard from you… then that you’d never gone so long without contacting me. And I- I was terrified, Cassidy. But for some reason I still told myself that you weren’t dead. That you couldn’t be dead. Because you’re… you’re…” 

“... I’m what?” Cassidy demanded coldly. 

Ricky’s face burned red with shame and as livid as she was, Cassidy couldn’t help but be reminded distinctly of how cute he’d once been - the way his whole face blushed when he was young. He looked away when he answered her. 

“... Because you’re the most powerful person I’ve ever known.” 

God. Fucking. Dammit. 

I’m angry. So fucking angry. Be angry with him, dammit! 

But fuck, he was making that difficult. Anything Cassidy had been bracing herself for, it wasn’t this. And he was still adding icing to the damn cake. 

“I took you for granted Cassidy,” he sighed. “When we uh… before we broke up, I was… I was such a jerk to you. And still, when I asked you to, you uprooted the life you’d built and you came back here for me. I never properly thanked you for that. And I never told you… how much respect I really have for you. Because you really are… the most incredible person I’ve ever met. And I’m sorry, because I guess that I sort of had you on a pedestal. So it didn’t occur to me that you were just as human as I was and that you could-” His voice hitched- “That what I was doing could get you killed… and I know ‘sorry’ is just an empty word… but I am so, so sorry for that, Cassidy…” 

STOP MAKING IT SO HARD TO BE MAD AT YOU!

Cassidy was just… stunned. It was such a drastic, drastic change from the man she’d left in the woods months ago. Once again, a question came to mind. And this time, she whispered it aloud. 

“... What happened to you?” 

He processed the question, and his face transformed. The sadness, the regret, the guilt all at once became deep shame and fear. Fear the likes of which she had only seen on his face a handful of times, even with how long she’d known him and all that they’d been through together. She could almost see the words forming on his tongue, but his lips just wouldn’t move. 

He wants to tell me, she realized. But he’s terrified to. 

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

What happened to you? 

Had he really been so changed that his scars were so easily visible to her eyes?

At once, Ricky’s whole body tightened as if he expected mutant venom to start coursing through his veins at any moment. Horrible images flashed before Ricky’s eyes, ghosts of cruel words echoing in his ears. 

“Oh Ricky, Ricky…” “-an idiotic human mascot!” “-Anyone who crosses me gets-” “You are in charge of nothing!” “eliminated.” “-A shoulder for me to perch upon!” “You do. As I say.” 

‘Tell her…’ A putrid, pitiful, desperate part of him begged. ‘Just tell her!... Please…’ 

And he wanted to. God, he wanted to… 

But how could he? 

“Perhaps… after breakfast, yes?” 

Both of them jumped and turned around to see Mystery sitting on the steps above them. 

Suddenly Ricky was back in the here and now. That frightened part of him went back into the box from whence it came and anger welled up instead. 

“Youuuuu…” 

“Good morning Ricky,” the kitsune said pleasantly with a flick of his tails.

“YOU COULD’VE TOLD ME SHE WASN’T DEAD MYSTERY!” Ricky shouted! 

“You’re right. I could have,” Mystery replied calmly. 

“SHE’S BEEN ALIVE THIS WHOLE TIME?! YOU KNEW THAT! AND I- YOU KNOW WHAT I WENT THROUGH! YOU WERE THERE!!!!” 

“I was,” Mystery replied, his pleasant tone unchanging. 

“YOU SHOULD HAVE FUCKING TOLD ME!” 

“You’re right. I should have.” 

“A FUCKING WARNING AT LEAST! What’s the use of having telepathy- WHYDIDN’TYOUWARNME?!”  

“Because I was a coward.” 

It was said with such ease and sincerity that it threw Ricky right out of shouting mode. “YOU- what?”

“I was a coward,” the kitsune shrugged with a sad smile. “And you’re right. I should have told you. In fact that was my intent. But I knew it would hurt you, and I was afraid. So in the end… For all my talk of lessening the shock for you, I let you see it for yourself. I shouldn’t have done that, Ricky. I’m sorry.” 

Ricky blinked at him. Raised an indignant finger. Opened his mouth with a deep inhale as if he wanted to yell… then let it out, defeated. “There were literally dozens of opportunities yesterday for you to have told me, Mystery. For any of you to have told me! So why didn’t you?” 

“Because we were worried about Arthur,” the kitsune answered honestly. “At least at first, that was the answer. We believed disclosing the fact that Cassidy was alive would hinder any efforts to rescue Arthur. But even after it became clear that no ‘rescue’ would be taking place, we knew we needed to come clean about our…” Mystery gave them a look and used a paw to gesture to himself and the very haunted mansion. “And if we told you about all of that and that Cassidy was alive, combined with everything else that happened yesterday, we believed it would have been too much for you. The plan really was to tell you about it this morning over breakfast. Cassidy wasn’t expected to arrive for almost another two hours.” 

“Dog. Do not put that on me. Vivi made it sound like-” But Cassidy glanced at Ricky and nervously cleared her throat. “-She said it was urgent. So I took shortcuts. No breaks… may have taken the speed limit as a suggestion.” 

“I wasn’t, as you say, ‘putting it on you’,” the kitsune sighed. “You’re both right. We should have planned for this. But we did not, and the result was a rather nasty shock. Vivi and Lewis will apologize personally as well, but at the moment they are in the kitchen with the kids, making breakfast. When you’re ready, I’d like very much for you to join us.” 

Ricky was staring at Mystery, dumbfounded. “... What’s the catch?” he asked suspiciously. 

“No catch,” Mystery said pleasantly. “I made a mistake. An apology is the least you deserve.” 

“So… that’s it? You’re just… you were wrong?” 

“I was wrong,” Mystery confirmed. 

“And you’re just going to admit it and apologize just like that?” 

“Just like that,” he nodded. 

Ricky could scarcely believe it. Where was the digging in? The dismissal? The gaslighting? To just… receive a genuine apology like this so easily was… weird. 

Dammit. Mystery had proven himself over and over again, and yet here Ricky was, once again comparing him to Pericles. 

And clearly Mystery realized this, not that he took it to heart. But, he couldn’t resist the opportunity to insert a jab at the parrot. He tilted his head and asked passive-aggressively, “What kind of egotistical, feather-brained cockalorum would do otherwise?”

“Shaddup! I’m not used to this!”

Mystery just laughed, tails wagging. And that’s the moment Ricky’s stomach decided to roar in protest once again. 

Uuuuugh… bury me… Ricky pulled his hood over his head with embarrassment and tugged on the strings to close it. 

“Breakfast?” Mystery chuckled. 

“Yez please…” Ricky grumbled, muffled through his jacket.

The kitsune laughed again and affectionately nuzzled him on the top of the head with his nose. “Come,” he said, stepping over Ricky and Cassidy to lead the way down the stairs. And Cassidy’s eyes followed him in utter amazement, hardly believing the interaction she’d just witnessed. But Mystery’s voice snapped her out of her daze. 

“We’re in for a treat. Lewis is making crepes in honor of your return Cassidy, he began making preparations early this morning. The Peppers run a restaurant as you know, and the crepes are positively delectable. Lewis hasn’t told me what kind he’s making though. The nutella filling with banana is divine, but a bit too much sugar for my taste. Then there’s the more pleasant tang of lemon and blueberry, or the subtle sweetness of vanilla and strawberry. My personal favorite is chicken, spinach, and basil sprinkled with cheese, but then again I am primarily a carnivore by nature so it is sensible that my palette would lean more on the savory side. Then there’s when he substitutes chicken for steak…” 

Smiling, Cassidy made eye contact with Ricky over Mystery’s tails as they followed him, and Ricky snorted when she shook her head and rolled her eyes fondly at the kitsune’s ramblings. 

Crepes really weren’t what was important right now, but Mystery seemed to have a mysterious way of knowing exactly what to say to make his friends feel better. The talk of food was entirely irrelevant to the issues at hand, and if anything it was just making Ricky hungrier. But the kitsune seemed so nonchalant, his rambling so utterly domestic, that as uncertain as what lay ahead was… 

He truly made it seem as if everything was going to be okay.

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

Vivi and Lewis were waiting for them outside the kitchen area, and Cassidy went inside while Ricky stood, arms crossed, and waited for the inevitable apology. 

They didn’t say anything for a couple of moments, the Mystery Skulls at a loss at how to begin, before Ricky grew bored of their squirming, pursed his lips, and said, “So. She’s alive.” 

Both of them gulped. “Yeah. Yeah, she is.” Lewis said. 

Vivi cringed, “We really did want to tell you-” 

“Save it,” Ricky interrupted her. “Mystery already told me why you didn’t tell me. And I…” Ricky groaned, frustrated, and ran his fingers through his hair. “I get why you did it. And it makes- sense. But dammit the more I think about it the more opportunities I think of for you to have told me, and the madder I get at you!” 

“Which is totally valid-” 

“And you’re just- accepting that you messed up, and owning up to it, and it’s weird!” 

Vivi and Lewis gave him a look. “Dude. Do the people around you usually… not?”

Ricky opened and closed his mouth, realizing there was nothing he could say without giving away yet another thing to make the Mystery Skulls feel sorry for him. So he just growled, frustrated, and marched into the kitchen. 

As mad as he was at the Mystery Skulls, his brain compartmentalized his anger the second he walked into the kitchen. 

Wow, am I happy to not be Cassidy right now. 

No one was eating yet, as Lewis still wasn’t quite done with breakfast. But Ricky didn’t think they’d be eating even if the food was ready. Nope. Fred, Daphne, Velma, Shaggy, and Scooby were doing the very same thing he’d been doing to Vivi and Lewis a moment ago: wordlessly glaring as both parties silently battled over who would talk first, and what would be said when they did. 

Ricky knew the feeling. He’d been in that very same position this time yesterday, when he’d awoken in Shaggy’s body. And now, it was Cassidy’s turn. 

The difference was that while they’d looked at him with confusion, anger, distrust, and dislike, the kids looked at Angel… hurt. Confused. Needing an explanation before they could move forward. 

And honestly, Ricky felt the same way to an extent. She was alive. It was a miracle, almost too good to be true. But there was an explanation for everything, rational or supernatural. Whatever had happened, to allow her to remain alive on the same Earth as him, he was grateful for it. 

And yet, he still needed to know: how?

As Ricky nervously approached, Cassidy was seated at the head of the table, and he got the impression that the kids had put her there based on the way they were sitting around her. Save one empty seat right beside her, which Daphne pulled out for him when he got close enough. 

Oh dear, they’ve put me right at the heart of it, Ricky realized with a gulp, sitting down in the seat they’d saved for him. Ricky tried to appear small as the tension in the room mounted. He felt his stomach twinge. Please do not growl right now, he begged himself quietly.

Angel started to say, “Babies-” 

“How are you alive?!” Velma demanded loudly.

Ricky jumped and suddenly didn’t feel quite as hungry.

“Yeah. Like, what gives? Like I thought you weren’t gonna lie to us anymore!” Shaggy said, hurt. 

“Hold on guys, give her a chance to explain herself,” Vivi said, sitting at the table next to Mystery, who had turned back into a dog for the sake of fitting at the table.

“You have no room to talk!” Fred snapped. “You knew about this, too! You’ve known since before you came to Crystal Cove! Why should we listen to you when you’ve been lying to us since the beginning?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe because the town is cursed and we’d literally just met you,” Vivi said pointedly. “It wasn't safe yet for Cassidy to come back into the fold. We couldn’t risk telling anyone until we were formally working together and had some trust built between us.” 

“Fine. That I can understand,” Daphne sighed. “But Cassidy… we cried for you. We’d just started trusting you again. You couldn’t have sent us a message? Something to let us know you were okay? How could you do this?” 

“I know, I know. Believe me, I had meant to never lie to you again. But then… you don’t understand-” 

“Then make us understand.” Velma demanded. 

Cassidy sighed, and began to tell her story.

Another short-ish chapter, but Chapter 22 is already well in the works and I've been working on something else as well that I really wanted to have done before I posted 21, but I'm at an art block rn and didn't want to make ya'all wait. I know a lot of you probably wanted to find out how Cassidy survived in this chapter, or for Cassidy to be caught up on a certain thing... but I thought that they needed to clear the air on some other things first. And the heartfelt reunion part 2/apology turned out a bit longer than I expected. So here we are. The next chapter tho, I will tell you, is dedicated entirely to how Cassidy survived and met the Mystery Skulls. It's going to answer a lot of questions, for sure... but will it raise even more? 😈 And uuuugh - again I need to write an entire post about why I picked this song for this chapter, but I just haven't! I haven't for 'God' yet either, but I really need to! Anyway - I hope you loved this chapter as much as I liked writing it!!! 😄

Chapters 1-20 of ‘One of Us’ are presently posted on Archive of Our Own!

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

Whumpril day 19

Content: Death mention

(Ice pack, muffled sobs, “I’m worried about you”)

"And then once you pathetic heroes are defeated, I’ll–...Okay pause. What happened to your face?" 

It wasn't a question Hero had expected to hear, especially not while they sat trapped in a villain’s base, power dampening cuffs binding their arms and legs. They especially didn’t expect to hear it while zoning out during one of said villain’s famously long rants.

“What?"

"Your face." Villain repeated. "You've got a nasty bruise. When did that happen?"

Hero glared. "We were literally just fighting. I'm a hero now, where do you think I get–Hey!" Hero's response was cut off by Villain grabbing their face, turning it to get a clearer view of the bruise. With a thoughtful look, they licked their thumb and rubbed it against Hero's cheek.

Hero did their best to pull away. "Cut it out!"

"We'll, we know it's not just dirt now."

"You could've just asked instead of licking me!"

Villain finally let go of their face. "When you become a parent, you'll realize that spit is an effective tool of injury identification and quick face cleanup." They stepped away. "You’ve been taking on a lot of villains lately. Are they being too rough with you? I can straighten them out if you need; they should know to go easy on a kid."

"I am not a kid."

"I remember when you were some sixteen year old clinging to Other Hero's cape like a duckling. You are literally always going to be a kid to me. That's just how it works."

Villain dug into their pockets. After a minute of rummaging, they pulled out a remote and pointed it towards Hero. They pressed a button, and Hero felt something in their restraints pop. The cuffs still remained firmly clamped around their limbs, but Hero found that they’d detached entirely from the chair.

Villain started walking."Let's put this on pause and get you some ice on that, m'kay? You look like you could use a meal and a break anyway." 

With how unpredictable they could be, nothing Villain did should’ve surprised Hero anymore. And yet Hero found themself looking down in shock at their freed limbs.  "What are you even doing?"

Villain paused, turning. "Getting you ice?"

"No, I mean," Hero stood, "this. Why are you trying to help me? You’re a bad guy."

Villain looked away, almost pouting. "It's embarrassingly non- villainous to admit it, but I suppose I'm…worried about you." They grimaced at their own words, as if they hurt to speak. "You didn't get this promotion under the best of circumstances–"

Hero scowled, looking away. "They died."

Villain flinched. "Right. Other Hero…died. Is it so strange that I’d want to keep an eye on my old nemesis’ sidekick?”

It wasn’t actually. Villain had always been, at least comparatively, the nicest villain in Other Hero’s gallery. They never targeted civilians with anything more harmful than a monologue. Even when they fought, Villain rarely caused anyone serious harm. In all their time as a sidekick, Hero could count on a single had the times when Villain had actually targeted them, and of those times they’d never been seriously hurt. 

But they weren’t a sidekick anymore. They couldn’t rely on a villain’s pity to keep up. “I don’t need your help.” 

Villain started walking, not even bothering to look Hero’s way. “You have it anyway! Consider it my new evil scheme if it makes you feel better. Plus, those cuffs are still blocking your powers, so you’re still technically kidnapped.”

Hero sighed.

[kaunis-sielu]

Eighth day of Christmas: Steve and Fawn

You were stupid excited about today. You’d bought an ice cream maker and when it got delivered it took every ounce of self control you had to not open it.

Okay if you were honest you had opened it but only to fish out the directions so you didn’t mess it up.

You have all the ingredients in the fridge when Steve comes home you pop off the couch where you’ve been working on your latest book.

“Hi!”

“Hi Omega, you seem excited.”

“I am.”

“Have you planned dinner yet or can I make it?”

“You want to? I thought we could just do pizza?”

“I want to. I also have your present upstairs. It’s kind of a repeat, I hope that’s okay.” He looks worried, like you’ll be upset.

“Well, I’ve loved everything you’ve given me so I don’t see this being any different.”

“God I love you.” He murmurs and you laugh softly before pressing a kiss to his lips. “It’s in the bathroom closet. If you wanna go get it I’ll get started on dinner.”

“Okay.” You jog up the stairs and he heads for the kitchen. You know he didn’t have any fires today, which is a massive relief. You find the gift in a bag in the closet then head back downstairs. Steve has some beef out and you can’t help but laugh, you’d expected something milk based, like something with cheese.

“Kinda morbid don’t you think?” You ask stepping into his side and wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Maybe a little. But I know you love a good burger.” He isn’t wrong.

You stay curled into his side while he cooks, you talk about your day and Steve presses the occasional kiss to the top of your head.

After dinner he slides your gift to you, it’s an oatmeal milk bath mix.

“Oh! I’ve always wanted to try this.”

“Really?”

“Yea, it’s supposed to make your skin so soft.” You tell him and Steve hums softly, “you wanna take a bath later?”

“Always.” He says with a little smirk and you laugh.

“You ready for yours?”

“Sure.” You pull out all of the ice cream making stuff and his eyes go wide. “Did you get me an ice cream maker?”

“Yup!” You tell him clapping your hands excitedly.

“Sweetheart! Yes!” He pulls you to him and kisses you quickly. “You have so much stuff!” He’s like a kid in a candy store and you can’t help but laugh, you love seeing him like this.

You spend the next hour making ice cream. You do a vanilla base with add ins of chocolate chips, peanut butter chips, strawberries and blueberries. The fruit is kind of a miss, it gets too cold when it’s churned but Steve is thrilled with the gift either way. You’ve got to admit you’re pretty proud of this one and you can’t wait to keep trying different add ins.