#Day 23 Prompt

[lostalioth]

𝐬𝐨𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐝

→ premise: he only intended to check in on you, he didn’t however plan on you exacting your revenge for him throwing you in the pool at that very moment. though it works out in the end to finally break the thick lingering tension between you two.

→ pairing: s1!steve harrington x fem!reader

→ warnings: 2.3k words, smut | 18+, unprotected sex, shower sex, fingering, edging, semi-drunk sex, underaged drinking they are described as drinking but they are a bit drunk/tipsy, season 1 steve harrington and so tommy and carol are in it, Y/N IS USED ONCE, nicknames [baby, cutie], description of wet clothes

→ a/n: 05 kinktober

“Ahhh Steve noo please!” You squeal and heat washes over your body, your skin burns where Steve's hands are gripping your waist. His touch sends butterflies to start violently fluttering in your stomach. He lifts you up and you feel like the air is punched from your lungs at the strength and his hands all over you. You hear a chuckle eurrupt from his chest right before you’re thrown from his hands. You squeal as your body breaks the frozen barrier of water and you splash into the icey grimy pool. You hold your breath as you look up from under the water and see the stars sparkle in the night sky. Slowly you come up out of the water, pushing your body up on the side of the pool glaring in Harrington's direction. The cold water is working to sober you up a bit, however not as well as you wished it to. The alcohol still streaming through your veins from those last few swings of the bottle now making you only a tad bit tipsy. Tommy and Carol are keeled over laughing, nearly falling off the lawn chairs they were laid out on. “Before you kill me you're gonna need me for new clothes you know? Right?” Steve lightly whines and backs up looking like a deer in headlights as he backs himself up against the sliding patio door.

“Show me where the shower is in this damn mansion of a house and maybe just maybe I'll spare you” you groan and look down at your body as your clothes sag and cling awkwardly to your body, water dripping off of you and onto the patio tile below you making you feel like a wet dog. He slides the glass back door open quickly and waits on you, not daring to make a move. “You're so whipped Harrington, how can you deny that?!?” Tommy calls over at the boy whose frozen stood, making Carol burst out into laughter again. You and Steve glare in their direction as you make your way into the much warmer house.

They shut up and put up their hands in surrender and shrug as you and Steve walk into the house. He leads you up the stairs and points you towards his bathroom. You give him a grimace before you walk into the bathroom, you decide not to lock the door and even to leave it open a crack.

Steve gathers clothes of his own for you to change into as he hears shuffling in the bathroom before the water starts running. He grabs a baggy pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt of his as well as socks of his for you. He walks a few feet out of his bedroom, passing the cracked open bathroom door. The smell of his body wash wafts out the door and under his nose. You were using his body wash, and you were gonna smell all like him and be wearing his clothes. He feels his cock stir and twitch in his suddenly ill-fitting boxers at the thought, god it made his stomach turn. It would be like you were his, all his, only his. He shakes away the cloud of lust overcoming him and makes his way into the laundry room. Opening up the dryer he throws in the clothes he grabbed as well as a towel for you, setting it to run for around 10 minutes so that it all comes out warm. It might appear as though he was sucking up cause he doesn't want you to kill him for throwing you in the pool, but he does genuinely want you to be comfortable and warm. He let Carol and Tommy get the better of him and get in his head, always calling him whipped for you and saying he follows you around like a puppy. The two of you weren’t together in any capacity besides friends and it kills Steve. Cause he knows he's very obvious with his affection and infatuation and yet he's oblivious to yours. Therefore him throwing you in the pool was so they'd stop their comments about how close you two were sitting or how he was looking at you. He shouldn't have let them get to him but that was all he could think to do so they’d shut up.

Making his way back into his bedroom he stands frozen in front of the bathroom door, hand wrapped around the side where it was left open a jar. He takes a deep breath and walks in, looking down at his feet. His intentions were purely innocent and yet he couldn't fight the flush of his cheeks or the growing bulge making a small tent in his jeans as he stood there. This was his bathroom after all and so he knew his shower doors were glass and if he just looked up just an inch. He’d see your beautiful silhouette through the fogged up glass door, your hands running over your body as you rinse off the body wash. his body wash. Steve clears his throat to both catch your attention and regain his own composure enough to speak again.

“Hey uh i grabbed out some sweats and a shirt for you, even a pair of my socks, they're in the dryer with your towel so they can be toasty for ya’ i thought maybe i could take your sopping wet clothes from you to wash those” the words all practically come vomiting out of Steve's mouth in a hurry he was doing his best to make up for his adolescent action. The strain of his aching cock against his jeans persistent and annoying however.

It was killing him, knowing if he only glanced up just a bit he could see your body in all its beauty and yet he wouldn't, he couldn't. He wasn't a perv though it may seem like it sometimes, he just felt the need to check in on you, you were tipsy still and not at your own house after all.

With Steve's head bowed and his eyes apparently glued to his own feet he misses the small evil smirk that spreads on your face. “Yeah yeah that'd be great Steve thank-” you cut yourself off and let out a small fustrated string of curuses before you fake whine.

“Y/N? What happened, hey you okay?” A confused Steve stands even more frozen but he's gotten closer to the shower door and has a hand on the door handle. “Oh fuck- ughh i think i got soap in my eye. I can't tell if I rinsed it all away. Can you look at my eye for me please?” You question and fight back the smile that wants to take over your lips, forcing a squinted and pained expression instead.

Without a second thought Steve flings the shower door open, eyes now glued to your face instead of the floor and his feet. He leans forward trying to get a better look in your eye when you grab him by the collar of his shirt. Quickly before he can question you, you pull Steve into the shower with you, sliding closed the door so no water escapes.

The warm water suddenly spraying at his back, soaking his shirt and running down, working its way to soaking his jeans. His jaw agape and his shoulders raised and tense for a moment before he adjusts and they drop. His already tight jeans are beginning to cling around his now very obvious bulge. “Alright yeah I deserved thattt-” he chuckles but his voice gets caught in his throat and his last word dragging on when he lets his eyes drift down your bare, dripping, glowing wet body standing in front of him. You watch as his brown eyes darken and cloud with desire, your own eyes slowly taking in his own body and landing right on his excruciatingly hard cock that's begging to be let out of his strained jeans. Your own eyes glaze over with lust and reluctantly they scan back up Steve's body to meet his. His eyes droopy and brows furrowed, strands of his brown locks now soaked and a darker color as they stick to his forehead jaw still practically on the floor.

“Steve.. please” you whine, your voice coming out more breathless than you intended and full of vulnerability. “Oh fuck it” he grunts and surges forward, his warm hands wrapping around your slippery wasit pulling your exposed body flush against his colthed one as his lips crash against yours.

You let out a small gasp and shut your eyes tightly before kissing back passionately, lips molding together perfectly as hands roam and slide around each other's drenched bodies. Steve’s hand slips up your side, around your back and up your spine slowly before gripping the back of your neck deepening the kiss. You hum into his mouth and let his tongue invade your own mouth and take over dancing with your tongue. His other hand sliping the opposite way, down your hip and over your soft thigh before cupping your throbbing sex. A whimper escapes your lips, the steam from your hot shower filling the bathroom only seemed to double, surrounding the fogged up shower as well as your and Steve's entangled bodies. “Harrington..baby i need you please” you pull away from the heated kiss and whine leaning into his touch, your hands splayed across his lower stomach. One sliding under his soaked shirt and the other sliding down and starting to work at the button on his pants. The running shower head is still spraying right at Steve's back who's too entranced with you to care about the water bill that's raising higher and higher to longer it runs uselessly.

A cocky smirk is plastered on Steve’s face as water flows down his chiseled face and drips off his chin. His nibble fingers slide through your folds and slip through your slick before plunging deep inside you. His middle and ring finger work in tandem to thrust inside your aching cunt and reach that spongy spot that makes you see stars. Your pussy clenches around his fingers after every thrust inside, his long fingers buried knuckle deep inside you. You let out a loud wanton moan in relief and pleasure that gets muffled when Steve's lips collide with your own once again. You finish unbuttoning his jeans and do your best to push the fabric as well as his boxers down his thick thighs as they cling to his legs. His neglected cock finally springing free, his leaking red tip angry and desperate for attention.

All the tension and Steve's fast and well trained movements make the pleasure build up fast in the pit of your stomach. You moan and whimper into his mouth as his fingers keep thrusting hard and deep inside you, Steve’s thumb starting to rub slow circles on your twitching clit pushing you closer and closer to that edge. “You gonna cum on my fingers cutie?” His voice comes out taunting and condensing, the sound rebervating against the tile walls in the shower and bouncing all around you. You nod frantically and your knees buckle, your legs almost giving out from under you. Steve uses the hand gripping the back of your neck to make you hold eye contact as well as hold your body up steady as you grow limper in his arms the closer you get.

“Well you know how our little game goes right baby? Well you pulled me in the shower for throwing you in the pool” he starts explaining and you fight your eyes fluttering shut and your thoughts drifting away as you get closer and closer to tipping over the edge. You lazily nod in understanding. “Yes baby yes Steve I know i know!” You babble and moan out nearly incoherently as your eyes shut for a second but snap back open. Your cunt begins to throb and ache for releasing and holding it in starts to become painful. “Well it's my turn again and i think i'm gonna edge you cutie you know, for pay back?” He chuckles and as quickly as he slipped them in he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you empty. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you let out a long whine in protest as your head falls back and your climax dies back down.

A shit eating grin is glued to Harrington's face and he soothes the pain by circling your clit with the two fingers he slipped out softly. Your disappointment doesn't last long however once Steve grabs both of your arms, pulling them behind your back and spinning your body around to press your tits up against the cold shower wall. Your hips nestled and pressed against his, his cock sliding through your folds as he grinds against your ass. Your nipples harden from the shift in temperature from the shower water. The hand that isn't holding both of your arms behind your back comes down to slap your ass before Steve's tip spilling pre cum is pushing at your entrance and with one hard sharp thrust he's inside.

“Oh god~ Baby” you scream as Steve gives you no time to adjust to his size, the painful sting of your cunt stretching and accommodating his cock. He rubs his thumb over the small of your back as he pushes your arms flush to your back keeping your body right where he wants you. Steve thrusts deep and fast, desperately needing this feeling for so long he can't get enough. The sound of your moans and mumbled curses, sweet nothings and whines of ‘baby’ ‘more’ ‘yes!’ fill the room alongside the slapping sound of wet skin against wet skin. Steve's balls slap against your clit in this position adding to your pleasure. You let out a loud scream of pleasure the harder he thrusts, your climax right on the edge faster than you wished. Your hips slam back against Steves and any thought of being mad at him for throwing you in the freezing cold pool have long dissipated along with the steam in the bathroom and long forgotten about with the running dryer with your towel and Steve's clothes.

→ a/n: i got very carried away with this and it took two days to finish so it came out late and im sorry but im actually pretty proud of this one. fun enough this was sort of an idea carried over from last years kinktober that i didnt do and now finally i did it!! leave me feedback and sorry for any typos!

[oz-qwin]

Mariner May: Day 23 - Helm

Lil guys :3 :3

[serickswrites]

Failure

Warnings: captivity, restraints, gag, electrocution, unconsciousness

Whumpee struggled against the ropes around their wrists. They tried to scream through the gag Whumper had shoved in their mouth. Tried to do anything to escape the unsafe conditions Whumper had created.

Whumper had tied them to a chair and attached a car battery to their chest. Whumpee could hear the dripping of water somewhere in the basement. They knew Whumper intended to shock them. Intended to torture them. But they knew it would be more than torture. Water plus electricity always equaled a bad idea.

"Come on now, Whumpee, it will be fun! This is a perfectly safe voltage to start with, I promise," Whumper said with a smile. "See?"

Whumper flipped the dial on and Whumpee braced themself for pain. But nothing happened. Whumpee sagged with relief when they realized Whumper's set up had failed.

"What is wrong with this stupid thing?" Whumper said as they ripped the electrodes off Whumpee. "Why won't you work?"

They flipped the switch again, but nothing happened. Whumper kicked the machine and it flickered to life. Whumpee watched in horror as Whumper's body convulsed as the current ran through them. Watched as Whumper's eyes went wide with fear. And they watched in horror as Whumper collapsed to the ground and lay unmoving save for the twitching of their muscles as the current continued.

Perhaps they were much safer than they thought.

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

@artisticdemon

[plutonex]

"...Where did you get that?"

rain world art month, day 13/23: five pebbles/pearls

[steveseddie]

with a cold breeze

rating: t | cw: none apply | word count: 4,281

tags: eddie munson lives, didn't know they were dating, getting together, first kiss, fluff and hurt/comfort

for the @steddielovemonth prompt: “love is giving him your sweater even if it makes you cold” by @stevesbipanic

a/n: this is my first time writing a prompt for this event and it was so much fun! also this ended up longer than i thought but. enjoy 🩷

click here to read on ao3

***

In Eddie’s defense, he shouldn’t have been expected to bring a jacket. Not when Steve didn’t tell him where they were going or when he sent Eddie spiraling into a pit of pining by showing up at his doorstep with a white shirt tucked into a pair of tight blue jeans and a black jacket thrown on top, looking like he stepped out of Eddie’s dreams.

Now that he thinks about it, Steve might’ve told him to grab a jacket, but Eddie was too busy picking his jaw off the floor to listen to him.

When he stepped out of the trailer and followed Steve to his car, Eddie felt a light chill in the air, but since he assumed Steve was taking them to the movies or for dinner at that diner he likes, he figured the flannel he was wearing over his Metallica singlet would be enough to withstand it. 

Eddie doesn’t know exactly when this became a thing they did- Steve picking him up and taking him to dinner or a movie or ice cream or roller skating. 

(That last one was Eddie’s least favorite one because he spent half the time they were there falling on his ass. Or maybe it wasn’t, because the other half was spent holding on to Steve’s hand as he guided Eddie around the rink and helped him keep his balance.)

Eddie still can’t help but feel surprised whenever Steve turns up at his door, even if it happens multiple times a week these days. He knows this is what friends do, but maybe it’s still just a little hard to believe that he’s friends with Steve Harrington. 

(“You make it sound like I’m some kind of celebrity, man,” Steve said the first time Eddie voiced his shock about him wanting to spend time with Eddie. 

“Dude, you are the king of Hawkins! You are a celebrity!” Eddie said, dramatically shaking Steve’s shoulders which earned him a mighty eye roll and a playful shove. “And celebrities don’t want to spend time with freaks like me.”

Steve’s face softened at that, he bumped Eddie’s shoulder with his. “Well, this one does.”)

Eddie knows Steve is being genuine every time he says he wants to hang out, but a part of him always expects Steve to get tired of him and ditch Eddie, and start taking a nice pretty girl on these outings instead. 

(“Dates, they’re dates,” Max deadpanned after hearing Eddie ramble about Steve for roughly ten minutes straight. She’d clocked Eddie’s feelings for Steve right away when he came back from the roller rink with his backside bruised, but still with a dopey smile on his face to Max waiting for him at the steps of his trailer. “Steve Harrington is taking you out on dates!” 

“He’s not, they’re not dates,” Eddie said with a firm shake of his head. 

“Dude, Lucas literally took me to the roller rink last week.” 

“Aw, cute. Did he hold your hand?” 

“I held his, I skate, remember? And for a jock, he’s got terrible balance,” she says, lips twitching into a little smile. “Not as bad as yours though.” 

“Hey!”)

Even if Max insists on calling them dates, Eddie won’t. He can’t. He knows Steve doesn’t see them that way so he can’t do it either, not if he wants to protect his heart. 

So he ignores that Steve opens the door to his car for him like he would if this was a real date and he ignores that he lets Eddie pick the music or that he keeps a few of Eddie’s tapes in his car for him to choose from, even if they’re not at all what he likes, and he ignores the way he keeps glancing at Eddie at stop signs or red lights with a sweet little smile that makes his stomach swoop like when he went through the gate to the Upside Down did, only better. 

Or he tries to ignore it, at least.

“Soooo where are we going?” Eddie asks, contorting himself so he can sit cross-legged in Steve’s passenger seat after picking the music for the ride. 

Steve bops his head to the beginning of a Dio song and Eddie can’t help but feel proud. 

“It’s a surprise,” he says. 

Eddie groans. “Is this surprise also going to end up with me not being able to sit properly for a week?” He only realizes how that sounds when Steve’s head snaps to him, eyebrows high on his forehead. God. “You know cause I kept falling on my ass at the roller rink, not because- uh.” 

He doesn’t know how to finish the sentence, but luckily Steve spares him. With a soft laugh, he says, “Don’t worry, you won’t have trouble sitting after tonight.” Then Steve smirks, the little shit. “From falling on your ass- or some other reason.” 

Eddie flushes bright red.

He lowers the window and shivers when the cold air hits his face, but the wind helps cool down his flushed cheeks so he leaves it open. He notices that instead of driving them downtown, Steve is driving them further out. 

“I’m not gonna have trouble sitting ‘cause you’re luring me into the woods to murder me? Is that it?”

“And why would I want to murder you?” Steve asks, pinching the bridge of his nose like entertaining Eddie’s nonsense causes him physical pain. 

The wind blows Eddie’s hair away from his face. “Maybe you’re jealous of my luscious hair.” He hopes the wind makes him look like one of those cover shoots on the magazines that he sees at the store, but realistically, he knows he probably looks like a dog sticking his head out the window. “My naturally beautiful hair that doesn’t need any Farrah Fawcett spray.” 

Steve narrows his eyes at Eddie. “That little shit told you!” 

Eddie grins. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do. Dustin told you, didn’t he?” 

“I won’t reveal my sources,” he says, pretending to zip up his lips. 

“You don’t have to, you dork. Dustin is the only one I told.” He pauses, thinking. “Maybe I am committing murder tonight.”

“Mine?”

“Henderson’s. And then yours so the secret dies with you.” He glances at Eddie with a smile. “And maybe because I am a little jealous of your beautiful hair.” His voice is a little too soft to sound like a joke.

Eddie gives him a shy smile and then flicks his hair over his shoulder with a dramatic flare. Steve laughs, head thrown back, as they drive past the Leaving Hawkins sign. 

***

Steve drives them to the top of a hill just outside of Hawkins. 

Eddie’s first thought when Steve parks his car next to a little forest is that maybe he’s actually planning to murder him tonight. 

His second thought comes when Steve opens Eddie’s door and a gust of wind hits Eddie, making him realize that no, his flannel won’t be enough. He’s going to freeze his ass off so even if Steve doesn’t murder him, Eddie will die anyway. 

His third thought comes when Steve takes hold of his wrist and drags him out of the car and towards a cliff overlooking most of Hawkins.

Eddie voices that thought with an appreciative whistle.

“Holy shit, that’s a killer view.”

“Right?” Steve asks with a grin. His fingers are still wrapped around Eddie’s wrist and he can feel the way he’s bouncing excitedly from one foot to the other. 

“Yeah, wow. You wouldn’t think that Hawkins is a shit town from up here,” Eddie says, taking in not only the night lights, but the stars above them too, shining brighter than Eddie has ever seen them.

“Yeah, it almost looks normal, no monsters or alternate dimensions.”

“No hordes of angry town people who want to burn you at the stake.” 

Steve gives Eddie’s wrist a comforting squeeze. He glances at the ground. “No shitty parents calling you a disappointment and an embarrassment,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. 

Eddie frowns. He shakes his hand until Steve loosens his hold, but before he can retreat it into his pocket because he thinks Eddie is trying to get him to let go, he tangles his fingers loosely with Steve’s. “They came back tonight?” 

Steve stares down at their hands, his thumb rubs over one of Eddie’s rings. “Yeah, and they managed to pick a fight within five minutes of walking through the door. Must be some kind of record.”

Eddie squeezes his hand. “I’m sorry, Steve.” 

With a sigh, Steve finally looks up. “It’s not your fault, and besides-” He smiles at Eddie. “I didn’t bring you here to talk about them.” 

Eddie narrows his eyes at him. “What did you bring me here for?” 

Steve’s smile turns into a grin, he drops Eddie’s hand and starts walking backward toward the car. “Wait here.” 

“You better not be abandoning me to die here!” 

He gets no reply. Eddie squints at him as he rummages through the trunk of his car but it’s a little hard to see clearly in the dark. He wraps his arms around himself while he waits, feeling colder by the second, and resists the urge to ask Steve if he has an extra jacket lying around. It’ll send him into Mother Hen mode and he’ll start fussing about Eddie catching something and probably scold him for not bringing his own jacket. 

So he acts as nonchalant as possible about the cold when Steve comes back, hiding something behind his back that Eddie can’t see. 

“I didn’t bring you here to murder you or abandon you. I brought you here to have a picnic with me.” As he says this, he shows Eddie what he was holding behind his back- a checkered blanket and a goddamn picnic basket. 

Eddie blinks dumbly at the two items and then at Steve, mouth gaping like a fish. “A picnic?” 

Steve nods a little shyly. “Um yeah, is that okay?” 

Eddie lets out a disbelieving laugh. A fucking picnic under the stars- oh, Max is going to have a field trip teasing Eddie about this one!

He realizes that Steve might be taking his reaction the wrong way when he starts to fidget so Eddie wipes the surprise from his face and grins at Steve. “Depends on what you packed in there, big boy.” 

A high-pitched laughter tumbles out of Steve’s lips and even with just the moonlight he can see his cheeks tint pink. “Well, do you like grilled cheese?”

***

Eddie makes grabby hands at the basket. Once Steve spreads the blanket on the ground, he flops down and starts digging through the contents.

There’s grilled cheese wrapped in tin foil paper, two bags of chips, two sodas, and a big serving of pie. Eddie’s mouth waters. 

“So,” Steve asks, wrapping his arms around his knees. “What do you think?” 

“I think,” Eddie pauses, thinking. “That I don’t care if you murder me as long as you let me eat this first.” 

“You’re so annoying,” Steve snorts, rolling his eyes.

“If I’m so annoying,” Eddie says, neatly arranging the food between them on the blanket, or as best as he can on the uneven ground. “Then why did you go through all this trouble for little ol’ me?”

Steve bites the inside of his cheek. He looks like he wants to say something, but then changes his mind, only to part his lips again. The look in his eyes betrays nothing, no matter how much Eddie tries to read it. Despite the cold, Eddie’s hands start to sweat a little. 

But then Steve shakes his head and looks down, picking up his grilled cheese. When he looks back at Eddie again, his eyes are soft, crinkling at the corners, but whatever he saw in them before is now gone. “Let’s eat before it gets cold, okay?”

After the first bite, Eddie discovers that Steve must be some kind of grilled cheese genius. When he tells Steve this, he waves it off with a shy smile, but he seems pleased. 

They talk in between bites of food, or in Eddie’s case, through mouthfuls of melted cheese. The whole time, Eddie tries to ignore the chill in the air, but every gust of wind reminds him he’s only wearing a singlet under a very thin flannel and neither does much to protect him from the cold. Still, he does his best to hide his shivering from Steve, but it’s a little hard to do when Steve won’t take his eyes off of him for some reason.

Right now, he’s staring almost unblinkingly at Eddie with his legs crossed at the ankles and his arms wrapped around his knees, a soft smile painted on his lips as Eddie tells him how excited he and the kids are about the next Hellfire meeting. 

“You’re always excited about your nerdy game,” Steve smirks. 

“Fair, but this time it’s different because the kids finally convinced Max to play!” 

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “How did they manage that?”

“Well, they didn’t convince her so much as they tricked her into it.” 

“Yeah, that makes more sense.” 

“But! It doesn’t matter cause she’s going to love it so much she’ll beg to join again! I’ve been working on her character sheet to make it perfect for her and I got her this cool set of dice- red dice, of course, cause her character will be called Ruby. Ruby the Rebel.”

Steve’s smile turns impossibly softer at Eddie’s excited rambling. “That sounds just as cool as her. What kind of- uh like, what’s her-”

“Class?” Eddie asks, stomach swooping a little at Steve trying to remember things about their nerdy game so he can ask Eddie. Steve nods. “Oh, she’s a-” He cuts himself off when a cool breeze stirs beneath his flannel and he shivers with a curse. “Jesus H. Christ!” 

Steve startles and his head whips in different directions, looking out for danger. “What?” 

“Sorry, nothing! It’s just really cold! Sorry!” 

Steve relaxes, then frowns. Narrowed eyes travel over Eddie’s body. “Wait, where’s your jacket?” 

“Uh.”

“Did you leave it in the car?” 

“More like, left it at home?” Steve’s face turns pinched. “You didn’t tell me where we were going, I didn’t know I would need a jacket!” 

“Yes, you did, I told you to bring one!” Steve says, exasperated. 

Oh. So Steve did tell him to bring a jacket. Huh. 

“Here,” Steve says and then starts shrugging off his jacket. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m giving you my jacket, obviously.” He removes it completely and Eddie gives himself a second to commit to memory just how tight Steve’s white shirt is. It’s also thin. Eddie shakes his head. 

“But you’ll be cold.” 

“I won’t.” He shrugs. “I run hot.”

“You’re hot,” Eddie says and realizes too late that his brain-to-mouth filter must’ve been damaged by the cold. “I mean you look hot, like you don’t look cold.”

Steve bites down on a grin. “Take the jacket before you catch something, Eds.” 

“O-kay, mom Steve.” He accepts the jacket, and when he puts it on, he can’t help but sigh happily. It’s warm from Steve’s body heat. It also smells just like him. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Steve smiles. “Now, what were you saying?” He asks and it takes Eddie a minute to remember what they were talking about, distracted as he is by Steve’s warmth and smell surrounding him.

***

“Do you ever think about leaving Hawkins?” 

Eddie jerks his head back, out of the basket where he was looking for the forks that Steve packed for the pie. “Uh, like, every day of my life, man.” 

“Because of Vecna?”

“No, long before that.” Eddie finds the fork. Singular. “You only packed one, Stevie, but I can just use my fingers.” He wiggles them and Steve shakes his head. 

“We can share,” he says. Alarms go off in Eddie’s head at the thought of passing the fork back and forth between them, sharing the slice of pie. He hasn’t been to that many dates in his life, but sharing dessert sounds a lot like a date thing.

“Sure,” he says, shrugging casually. Steve takes the first bite and hands it to Eddie. “Anyway, yeah. I always knew I wanted to leave. Knowing that there’s an alternate dimension at our feet that could pop up the next monster at any second only made the urge stronger, but. Gotta graduate first.”

“Where will you go? When you graduate?” 

“I don’t know. Some big city with a cool music scene, maybe. I can join a band that’s actually going somewhere.” He snorts. “No offense to Corroded Coffin.” 

Steve chuckles. “I’ve always thought you belong in some big city.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks with an arched eyebrow.

“Yeah, dude, you’ve always seemed- I don’t know, too big for Hawkins,” he says with an awed tone. Eddie’s throat feels dry, he skips the next bite of pie, giving it back to Steve. “Like you should be somewhere with people as loud and talented and great as you.”

Eddie swallows thickly. His eyes haven’t left Steve’s face, but Steve isn’t looking at him, instead he’s staring ahead at Hawkins or maybe like he’s trying to see even further than that. Eddie’s glad he’s not looking at him, he doesn’t even know what his face is doing right now, listening to Steve talk about him like that, there’s probably hearts in his eyes or something.

“I- I’ve always wanted to go to New York,” Eddie says to break the silence. Steve hums like he thinks it’s a good idea. “What about you, Steve? Do you think about leaving?”

“Sometimes. I- I’ve actually been saving up money to go to college. Nothing prestigious like Nance or Robin, just community college maybe.”

“That’s great, Steve,” Eddie says.

“But I don’t think I can leave until I know it’s over, you know? The Upside Down, especially if the kids are still going to be here.”

“Yeah, I’ve thought about that. Kinda makes you want to steal another RV, pack them all up and leave Hawkins for good.”

Steve meets his eyes finally. He smiles. “Yeah, exactly.”

“I think we could do it,” Eddie says, entertaining the thought for a moment. 

“You don’t think we’d end up in jail? For grand theft auto and kidnapping children?”

“Shh, let a guy dream, Harrington.”

“Okay, okay,” Steve says, holding up his hands in defense. “You know I haven’t told anyone about saving up for college. Just you.”

“Not even Buckley?”

Steve shakes his head. “I already failed once trying to get in. I don’t want anyone to know that I’ve failed again. I don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

Eddie thinks about what Steve said when they got here, about the fight with his parents, about them calling Steve a disappointment. “You could never disappoint me. Or Buckley or the kids. We all worship the ground you walk on, King Steve.”

“Shut up,” Steve says with a lighthearted shove to Eddie’s shoulder. “You don’t.”

“We do! Because we know just how good and badass you are, and whoever can’t see that is a butthead.”

“Are you calling my parents buttheads?” Steve asks with a barely concealed snort. 

“That’s exactly what I’m doing!” He puts his hands around his mouth and yells. “The Harringtons are buttheads!”

Steve breaks into giggles, falling back against the blanket, squirming with laughter. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but you love it,” Eddie says without thinking, and watches as something flashes across Steve’s face.

Before he can backtrack or brush it off as a joke, Steve sits up again, his jaw set with determination. 

“The fight with my parents was because of you,” he says. And okay, that’s not what Eddie was expecting. 

“Me?”

“They came home just as I was packing this up.” He gestures at the picnic basket. “I didn’t hear them come in until they came into the kitchen. They thought I was doing all of this for a girl so they started going off about me wasting my life and everything that they worked so hard to give me just to go on dates and work at a goddamn video store. They told me that it didn’t matter how much I tried, this girl was going to realize I was a failure and leave me. I don’t know what made me more angry- what they were saying about me or that they were talking about you like they knew you.” Steve pauses and takes a deep breath. “So I snapped and I told them I wasn’t packing all of that for a girl, that I was doing it for you. A guy. And that you would never leave me because I work at a video store or because our dates consist of grilled cheese sandwiches and roller skating and babysitting kids. And I guess that was a little presumptuous of me since we never really agreed that these were dates and I don’t even know if you-”

“Yes,” Eddie says when he finally finds his voice. He lost it somewhere around Steve calling this, and all the things they’ve been doing together for weeks, dates.

Steve blinks, his lips press together like he’s trying to stop himself from smiling, from getting ahead of himself. “You don’t know what I was going to say.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “What were you going to say?”

“That I don’t even know if you feel the same way I feel for you.”

“Yes.” Eddie repeats. “Holy fuck, Steve, yes I do.”

Steve stops trying to hide his smile. He beams at Eddie. “Yeah? You’re crazy about me too?”

Eddie whines low in his throat. “Steve.”

Steve pushes himself to his knees and then he closes the distance between them by crawling towards Eddie. “Are you?”

“Yes.”

“You can’t stop thinking about me and you want to listen to me talk all day about nerdy shit too?” Steve asks, crowding against Eddie until he has no choice but to lean back until he’s lying down on the blanket and Steve is hovering over him. 

“Sports shit but yeah, yes.”

Steve leans down until his lips are right next to Eddie’s ear. “You want to kiss me too?” Eddie shivers, and this time, it’s not because of the cold. He’s never felt warmer in his entire life. 

“Yes,” he says. “Please, Steve.”

Steve closes the distance between them and crashes his lips against Eddie’s, kissing him hard and desperately, drawing a whimper out of him. Eddie kisses back with just as much enthusiasm, his hands coming up to grip Steve’s waist, his shoulders, his arms. 

His freezing arms. 

“Christ, Steve!”

“What? What?” Steve asks, pulling back just enough so that Eddie can see his face- flushed with parted, swollen lips and blown pupils. 

And oh. Yeah. Eddie needs to see Steve looking like this again soon. Preferably when he’s not freezing to death. 

“You’re freezing, man. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was a little busy,” Steve smirks. 

Eddie shakes his head. “I’m giving you your jacket back,” he says, squirming as he tries to shrug off the jacket with Steve still on top of him. 

“No, Eds-” 

“Then we’re going to the car.”

“But I can’t kiss you like this in the car,” Steve pouts and the sight of a pouty Steve because he wants to straddle Eddie and kiss him stupid shouldn’t make him consider staying out here in the cold, but it does. Just for a moment. 

“You can, if we climb in the backseat, baby,” Eddie says with a sly grin. 

Steve’s eyes widen, his eyes flick to the car and then to Eddie’s lips and Eddie sees the moment he makes a decision. “Yeah, okay. Maybe I am a little cold. Let’s go.”

They pick up the trash and the blanket in record time, even while stealing short, giggly kisses. 

“I can’t believe we’ve been on so many dates and you haven’t even asked me out once!” Eddie says, balling up the tin foil paper and throwing it at Steve’s face. He throws his head back with a groan. “I can’t believe Max was right!” 

Steve raises an eyebrow. “You talk to Max about me? Your fifteen-year-old neighbor?” 

Eddie arches an eyebrow right back. “Oh, so you don’t talk to Dustin, your fifteen-year-old best friend about me?” 

“Of course I do,” Steve sniggers. “He’s the one who told me you can’t roller skate to save your life.”

“Then why did you take me to the roller rink?” Eddie asks with an undignified squeak, feeling the phantom pain of his many falls.

“So I could do this-” Steve takes hold of Eddie’s hands, tangling their fingers together, “-all night.” 

Eddie flushes, looking down at their hands with a smile. “That was a good plan, I’ll give you that.” 

He rubs his thumb over Eddie’s knuckles. “I have more where that came from.” 

The touch makes Eddie’s insides flutter, he pulls a strand of hair across his face with his free hand, but Steve can probably still see his red cheeks. “Yeah?” 

“Mhm,” Steve hums. He crowds against Eddie until his back hits the car, pinning him against it. “And I can show you. If you agree to go on a date with me.” Steve’s free hand plays with the lapel of his jacket on Eddie. “Officially, I mean.” 

Eddie grins. “I thought you’d never ask,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth. 

Then he’s dragging him into the backseat, and for the rest of the night, neither of them feels cold again.

[five-rivers]

Alien

Danny doodled absently in the margins of his homework.  He’d gotten into the Astronomy elective this year, and although he’d finished that homework, he wasn’t ready to start on his Language Arts homework.  Instead, he daydreamed, his thoughts drifting slowly from the sun, to satellites, to stars, to planets.  

“Clockwork, are there ghost portals on other planets?  I mean,” he said, revising his question, “could a person travel to another planet, like, um, Mars, using natural portals?”

For a long moment, Clockwork didn’t answer, and Danny sighed, aware that he did sometimes push his luck when it came to Clockwork and questions.  As Clockwork said, he couldn’t give Danny all the answers.  

“That’s an interesting question,” said Clockwork.  

“It is?” asked Danny, sitting up on the couch (which bore a remarkable similarity to the couch Danny’s parents had blown up when he was six).  

“Yes,” said Clockwork.  “It is.”  He moved to the side of the time screen he’d been looking at, letting Danny see it.  

The screen showed a starscape, detailed, bright, and familiar.  Earth’s night sky.  

“A portal may form anywhere that sufficiently captures the soul,” said Clockwork.  

“Like… imagination-wise?”

“That is the most common element in these situations, yes.”  

Danny squinted at Clockwork.  “The way you phrased that is weird.”

“But no less true.”  

“People imagine Mars all the time,” said Danny.  

“So they do,” said Clockwork.  He flicked his hand and the image on the screen dispersed into static, only to resolve into what Danny quickly recognized as the beginning of Sam, Tucker, and his disastrous trip with the Infi-Map.  "But natural portals do not only pierce through space."

Danny floated up off the couch, abandoning his homework.  "Is this your way of telling me that we're going to start finding weirdly old bodies on Mars and stuff?"

"There are other planets than Mars," said Clockwork.  "And more than humans pass through portals."

"Yeah, I know, but Mars was–" he stopped.  "You don't mean planets in this solar system, do you?  You mean– you're talking about things from Earth going to other solar systems."

"It is a possibility."

"But," continued Danny, approaching the screen, "people didn't know about exoplanets until pretty recently.  So, were the portals just aimed at the stars, or…?"

Rather pointedly, the Danny on the screen tumbled from the sixteen-hundreds to Rome.  

"Right.  I guess time, um."  He winced.  "Portals can form regardless of time."

"Nice save," said Clockwork with a raised eyebrow.  

"I'm trying to follow your clues," complained Danny.  He continued to watch the screen.  "Is that just one sided, from the future that knows about things, to the past that doesn't?"

"Were you trapped in the past?"

"No," said Danny, "but we also knew about the future."

"Hm," said Clockwork.  

"I guess I'm trying to ask…  If you had something in, like, I don't know, the time when bacteria started producing oxygen–"

"The Siderian Period."

"Yeah, then.  Could a portal open then, in the, uh, the Siderian Period on Earth, and go through the Ghost Zone, and have the other side be on planet that it could, um.  Live on?  That wasn't Earth?"

"The chances are small," said Clockwork.

"But they exist?" pressed Danny.  

Clockwork waved his hand again, and the screen flickered, going from Danny and Vlad fighting in a coliseum to a cloudy blue-green ocean.  A neon green whirl came to life among the blue, and the point of view zoomed through it, coming to a stop above a gray ocean under a whitish sun.  Bluish water trickled through the tiny portal, splashing into the gray sea.  The color diffused, slowly.  

Danny bounced in the air, excited.  "And it could live?"

"I believe you are the one who told me humans had calculated the odds of a mouse surviving on the surface of the sun for a week."

"Then that means, that means that there could be real alien life that ultimately came from Earth."

"What makes you think this is not Earth?" asked Clockwork, tilting his staff at the screen.  "The sky you know takes much of its color from the composition of its atmosphere.  What makes you think either of them were Earth?”

Danny’s mouth slowly formed an O of surprise.  

"But then," said Danny, “you could basically have a chain.  Life going from one planet to the next and the next after that…  Would things get traded back and forth like that?  Is that where missing links go?”

“Most holes in the fossil record are simply due to chance, or certain organisms being difficult to preserve.”

“But not all of them?”

Clockwork hummed noncommittally.  

“That’s so cool,” said Danny.  “Like, aliens had to exist, either way.  Life happening in one place and not anywhere else– Well, that’s way too unlikely.  But this is really cool.”

“As you have said.”

“But if the crossover is consistent… if it’s consistent, wouldn’t someone have noticed?  I know people disappear all the time, but people showing up out of nowhere is different.  Isn’t it?”

“Remember,” said Clockwork, “the current awareness of your world is a relatively recent development.  For most of human history, if a new group of people arrived in an area, and local people were not able to recognize where they came from, they simply assumed they were from somewhere far away, but still knowable."

"Well…  okay.  I can see that.  Just.  Wow."  He leaned back in the air, still caught in a sense of wonder.  "There could be whole civilizations out there…  Imagine if we could make portals that go to those places and visit.   I know there's the Infi-Map, but still."

"There are reasons that ghosts no longer seek such things out, except for the foolish and the power-hungry."

"Oh," said Danny, but he only deflated a little bit.   

"Daniel."  

Danny righted himself to look at Clockwork.  "Yeah?"

"It may come, someday, that you will ask a question that seems to have no answer, or encounter a situation to which there seems to be no solution.  Think back to this when you do."

"Okay," said Danny.

"Now, get back to your homework. I know you haven't done it all." 

Danny stuck out his tongue and flitted back to the couch.  Clockwork was right, but he didn’t have to say it.

[justanothersanjilover]

Day 23: Hurt

After being distracted when Sanji got attacked, Zoro was injured badly by their enemy. Sanji rushed over to check on him and make sure he doesn’t get hurt more.

Here is the prompt list with my other drawings 😊

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Twenty-Third Day of Gift-Giving

Twenty-Three Cozy Plans

baking cookies

drinking hot chocolate

reading a good book

wearing warm pyjamas

doing a jigsaw puzzle

hanging up fairy lights

drawing paintings

visiting the Christmas market

knitting a warm sweater

listening to podcasts

lounging by the fireplace

going ice-skating

drinking mulled wine

watching romantic movies

lighting scented candles

doing arts and crafts

taking a long nap

choosing a Christmas tree

decorating for the season

playing board games

listening to cozy playlists

bundling up and taking a walk

watching the snow fall

24 Days of Gift-Giving

[mxdreemurr]

Frisk Month 2023 Day 4!!! Rainy day☔🌦️

[thetomorrowshow]

Whumptober 23 - Forced Choice

title: what started the whole mess

fandom: hermitcraft smp

cw: referenced torture

~

Doc was in charge. Doc was there to make sure nobody got lost. He was supposed to keep them safe.

He failed.

It was Ren who ran off from the group—though Doc would never blame him for looking for a public restroom. Then Tango and Impulse went after him when he didn’t come back, then Doc when none of them returned—

It’s day three in captivity, and Doc isn’t doing well.

They sawed off his arm—and it may be electronic, but Doc had still programmed nerves into it. It hurt like the devil. He’s fairly certain that he cracked a molar trying to not to scream, and even now, with the exposed wires sparking and the leftover chunk of metal overheating, Doc’s struck by such terrible phantom pains that he spends most of his time staring at the floor with his one eye, keeping his mind so laser-focused on it that he doesn’t have space to think about his arm.

There’s a screwdriver driven into his mechanical eye. They sometimes push it in deeper, twisting it around, scraping against his eye socket and restricting his ability to blink. That one, thankfully, doesn’t hurt as much as his arm. The head of the screwdriver had pierced the nerve sensors before it could get too bad, he thinks, so most of the pain came from the weight of the tool and its press against his organic socket.

They want him to work for them. They want him to build a murder machine, something like what he used to create the Perimeter but for people, and Doc won’t do it. He simply cannot allow it—on Hermitcraft, where they have respawns, sure. Here, on a cityworld with millions of civilians that don’t have free or easy access to respawning? He would never.

His first denial is what took his eye.

The next day was his arm, torn apart bit by bit—just a finger at first, then two, then three, then his whole hand, each time pausing to give him the opportunity to submit.

That had almost broken him. He’d barely managed to hold out.

It’s the third day, and Doc doesn’t know what’s coming next, but he isn’t looking forward to it.

The answer?

A surveillance screen.

There’s two feeds from surveillance cameras being projected before him—two grainy, blueish videos of nondescript rooms, one person standing on the left screen, a curled up figure on the right.

The left screen shows Ren. Doc recognizes his long hair, his strong build. He’s standing still, hands in front of his face.

He can’t tell who the person on the right is. He’d have to assume Tango, but their face is buried in their arms and their back is toward the camera.

“These are two of your fellow . . . residents,” his captor says, taking a step away and sweeping back his blond hair. “You know them, don’t you?”

Doc turns his head to look closer at the right (he’s taken to doing as such, choosing to move his eyes as little as possible). Is it Tango? Tango was wearing short sleeves, wasn’t he? This person isn’t.

His captor chuckles. “Hard to see him, isn’t it? The basement is so dark.” He pulls out a communicator, his long fingernails tapping on the screen.

After a couple of minutes, two new people enter the room on the right. They grab the slumped body by the arms, lift the person up to the camera.

It takes a moment for Doc to register what he’s looking at—a person wearing something over their face—but who—?

It’s Mumbo.

Doc’s stomach drops out of his body.

Mumbo’s here, too?

That means that the Hermits have been deliberately targeted. He’d assumed until now that his arm and eye had made him appear an obvious redstoner, but if they have Mumbo—

How long has Mumbo been here?

His face is—there’s some contraption belted around his jaw—

It’s a muzzle.

Mumbo’s eyes are barely open, his hair longer than it was when Doc last saw him, long enough to hang limply over his forehead. His mouth is covered by a steel trap almost identical to a dog’s muzzle, attached to a leather strap affixed under his chin and belted on the top of his head.

He doesn’t look good. He droops in the mens’ hold, unable to keep himself up. He doesn’t appear to be bound in any other way—as if they don’t expect him to try to escape.

Doc swallows, turns his head toward Ren. Ren has moved, starting to pace around the room—and—and he’s wearing a muzzle as well, if he’s seeing this correctly. Identical to Mumbo’s, belted over his head, clenching his jaw shut.

Unlike Mumbo, Ren has mittens handcuffed on—and Doc can imagine why. Ren cannot stand the feeling of being restrained, particularly around his head and neck. Getting stuck in a t-shirt is enough to send him into a panic. Wearing a muzzle would be like hell.

“Your friend on the left has been muzzled for about three hours,” the blond man says, and Doc’s heart pangs for poor Ren. “He doesn’t seem to be enjoying himself much, does he?”

Doc doesn’t respond.

When he breaks free of the netherite bands holding him to this chair, he’ll tear the blond man’s head off.

“Your friend on the right. . . .” the man trails off, frowning. “Well, I’m not quite sure how long he’s been muzzled. Four . . . four weeks? Five?”

Doc’s breath catches in his throat.

A month?

Mumbo’s been here for more than a month, and none of them realized?

They should have been there for him. Doc should have reached out, should have messaged him more frequently—he was going on a long trip, he’d warned them that he’d be out of contact for weeks at a time, none of them had thought to check if he was all right—

The blond man claps his hands together, frown switching to a smile. “So! We have a choice for you, today.”

Oh, no.

“Option A: agree to the terms we’ve already laid out. You build our machine, and we’ll free them both of their restraints.”

Doc can’t. He can’t agree to that.

“Option B: don’t pull any extra tricks to annoy me today—like choking one of my employees—and we’ll take the muzzle off one of them.”

Before they removed his arm, he’d almost escaped. He’d choked a tormentor nearly to unconsciousness. Such a shame that more entered right before the woman passed out.

“Option C: ignore both of those, and they both get tied up from head to toe. Your choice.”

Oh dear.

Well, he absolutely could not tolerate the first. It was unacceptable; he would not allow his own machine to end this world.

If he goes with the second, he will have to resist any of his normal behaviors. Silence when commanded to respond, snarky backtalk when commanded to stay silent, any sort of struggling—all will have to be suppressed. He will have to humble himself considerably.

But the third. . . .

“So, Doctor? Which will it be?”

Doc swallows. “B,” he growls.

They just have to survive this long enough to be found. Doc had yanked out a tuft of his own fur and dropped it where they’d been kidnapped. If Xisuma knew what he was doing. . . .

-

“Your choice, Doctor.”

Doc’s eyes dart between Ren and Mumbo. Ren, visibly shaking on the floor. Mumbo, motionless, slumped against the wall.

It isn’t a choice he thought he would be forced to make. He had complied with the promise that one of them would be de-muzzled, he had let them shave down his horns, he had politely responded to any and all questions (biting his tongue at every moment to not cuss them out), and now he has to pick?

He has to choose which one loses the muzzle?

This isn’t fair.

Mumbo’s been wearing it for at least a month. He probably has been underfed because of it—the feeds have been running all day, and someone entered only once to feed a straw through Mumbo’s muzzle to give him something to drink. His jaw is likely weakened from disuse and has possibly locked from the position it was forced into. He’s suffering intensely, that is undeniable.

Ren has only had one on for a day, and he’s had no less than five panic attacks. He likely would have already torn his hair out if his hands were free. He hasn’t stopped panicking and he isn’t going to stop anytime soon.

Doc already knows his choice.

He despises himself, but he already knows.

It was always going to be this way. He had made the choice as soon as he was told to—no matter what he told himself, his brain had already made his priorities clear.

He nods toward the left screen. The blond man raises an eyebrow, then pulls out his communicator, sending another message to the men down there.

I’m sorry, Mumbo, Doc thinks to himself, staring at the crumpled figure on the right side. I’m so sorry.

The screens blink black as soon as Ren’s muzzle is released.

Doc’s eye remains fixed on the spot where Mumbo was, and he vows to punish himself when this all ends.

[ourdramaqueen]

Painting His Wife in Watercolor by Ourdramaqueen

Rating: Explicit Fandom: Wednesday Pairing: Wednesday Addams/Tyler Galpin, Wednesday Addams/Xavier Thorpe, Wednesday Addams/Bianca Barclay/Tyler Galpin (implied) Summary: She can feel the intruder’s breath against her ear as he says in a raspy voice, “A young lady like you really shouldn’t be sneaking around darkened rooms in stranger’s houses all by herself.” Her captor’s hand travels from her face to her throat, squeezing just enough to make her feel a hint of danger. “There’s some sick people out there,” he continues, his hand wandering lower until it rests over her heaving bosom. “Besides,” he murmurs, puffs of breath trailing her skin as he noses down her neck, the brush of his lips on her skin sending a shiver down her spine, “your esteemed husband might get the wrong impression.” “Or the correct one,” Wednesday breathes, twisting just enough in her captor’s embrace that she can grab onto the back of his neck and pull him into a passionate kiss that leaves them both moaning. Notes: This is my fill for the Wyler Kinktober 2024 Day 23 prompt: Cuckolding.

Read it on AO3

@wylerkinktober

PS: I do have a fill for day 22 (which will most likely be my final Wyler Kinktober 2024 contribution), but ended up not having enough writing time to finish both stories in time, so I decided to concentrate on this one which was flowing better. I'll post day 22 as soon as possible!

[absenthearted]

HISTORICAL WESTERN || HACKEARNEY + ALTERNATE UNIVERSES [2/?]

PERSONAL.—Gentleman, aged 56, Sheriff and owner of valuable mining property, seeking the acquaintance of a single or widow lady of any means, and with good character and disposition. Object matrimony if suited. Contact C. Hackett, North Kill, NY.

[...]

BUSINESS OPPORTUNITY.—Apprenticeship available for a hardworking, dedicated Physician in mining town upstate. Lodging and transportation provided. Ability to serve both man and beast preferred. Contact C. Hackett, North Kill, NY.

Between dealing with roving outlaws, petty small-town disputes, and feral wild wolves, Sheriff Travis Hackett doesn’t have time for marriage and a wife. His meddling brother decides to help him out—whether he wants it or not.

Laura Kearney never thought she would become a mail-order bride, but she’s willing to do almost anything to pursue her dream of becoming an animal doctor.

In which a secret matchmaking plan goes terribly wrong, Laura gets rejected by her supposed fiancé on the same day that she meets him, and Travis makes a terrible first impression. [Inspired by @genevievedarcygranger’s prompt from the Hackearney Fic Exchange.]

[serickswrites]

For Good

Warnings: referenced captivity, referenced torture, medication, unconsciousness, passing out, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery

"Whumpee, Whumpee, let me help you," Caretaker said as they hurried to Whumpee's bedside. Whumpee had been ordered by the doctor to stay in bed so that they could recover from everything Whumper had done to them. Caretaker still hadn't been able to ask Whumpee about everything. Hadn't been able to hear and hadn't wanted to trigger Whumpee.

"I'm fine. I'm fine," Whumpee said gruffly. "I should be able to go to the bathroom to wash my face by myself."

"Whumpee, you're really hurt. Please, let me help you."

Whumpee hissed with pain as they tried to sit up further. "I don't need help! Damn it!"

Caretaker tried not to take Whumpee's anger personally. They were in pain. They had endured so many unspeakable things. They were angry. But they needed help. "Are you in pain?"

"What do you think?" Whumpee said angrily. "Of course I'm in pain."

"Then please take your medicine, Whumpee. It's there to help you."

Whumpee frowned. "I won't."

"It's for your own good, Whumpee," Caretaker said exasperatedly. "Please, just take it. Let yourself sleep. Let yourself heal."

"You're always trying to drug me. Always trying to get me to just lay here. You're no better than them," Whumpee sneered.

Caretaker flinched. They were sure they knew who Whumpee meant. But they had to confirm. "Who, Whumpee?"

"Whumper."

The silence was thick and painful. Caretaker swallowed as they tried to gather themself. Whumpee had been so angry since they had gotten back. But to compare them to Whumper? That wasn't fair at all. "That's not true, Whumpee. Look," Caretaker said as Whumpe opened their mouth to protest, "you are in pain. This is pain medicine. Take it. Go to sleep. You'll feel better. It's that easy."

Whumpee held out their hand for the pill, glaring at Caretaker the entire time. They took the pill from Caretaker's hand and dry swallowed the pill. "I'm sure you just want me to pass out so you can do whatever you want to me."

Caretaker kept their expression blank. Kept Whumpee from seeing how much their words hurt Caretaker. "I want you to feel better, Whumpee."

"Yeah, right," Whumpee mumbled angrily as they blinked heavily. Fortunately the medication worked quickly--Whumpee was so weak from their ordeal. "That's what they said, too," they muttered as sleep sucked them under.

It was only after Caretaker was sure Whumpee was deeply unconscious that they allowed their mask to crumble. That they allowed themself to breakdown. They cried for themself. They cried for the situation. And most of all, they cried for Whumpee and everything that had happened to Whumpee.

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

@artisticdemon

[sometimesanequine]

6.23.2024

[five-rivers]

Dream Lantern Chapter 1

For Ectoberhaunt 2023 Day 5: Hunt.

The person who entered the small examination room wasn’t a doctor.  They weren’t even human.  

Danny, who had been hunched in the less-than-comfortable chair in the corner, waiting for the doctor to get to him, sprang to his feet.  “You!” he hissed, green sparking from his fists and his rings snapping into place and sweeping outward to transform him.  “You did this!”

At first glance, the person in front of Danny looked human, but that was only at first glance.  The ridges of their eyes curved smoothly, owl-like, into the bridge of their nose.  Their hair, too black, formed a widow’s peak so sharp Danny wasn’t sure it couldn’t draw blood.  They wore a black suit that was about ten times too formal and old-fashioned to even exist in Amity Park.  

But all of that could be brushed aside.  Sometimes people just looked or dressed strangely.  The real indicator was the eyes, which were red from lid to lid and faintly luminous.

“Yes,” said Nocturne, gloved hand touching their face as if to make sure it was still in place.  “Did you think someone else could have?”

“Put them back!” demanded Danny.  “Or I’ll–”

“Or you’ll do nothing,” said Nocturne.  “They are hostages, boy.  I’m sure you realize this already, or you would have attacked.” 

Danny bristled.  “What do you want?”

“Your help.”  They laughed, showing off teeth that were both too white and too sharp.  “You like that, don’t you?”

Danny scowled.  He couldn’t deny the way his core had twitched at the word ‘help,’ but even full ghosts weren’t mindless slaves that could be programmed and activated by their Obsessions’ triggers.  Besides, he had better people to help.  

Like Tucker and Sam.  Jazz.  His parents.  

They were elsewhere in the hospital, in comas so deep Danny couldn’t touch their minds at all.  The doctors had kept Danny here, just in case he was about to slip into a coma, too, but knowing that it was Nocturne, rather than just suspecting it…

He wanted to fight.  He wanted to force Nocturne to let them go, to wake them up.  

But… hostages.  

“With what?”

“With retrieving something,” said Nocturne.  

“And if I help, you'll bring them out of their comas?”

Nocturne lazily raised a hand.  “I swear it.”

“Fine.  What is it and where is it?”  If it was something dangerous, he could always sabotage it.  He had experience with that kind of thing.

“Oh, you mistake me, child.  I will retrieve it myself.  I only need you to accompany me to do so.  A being of your… nature is required.”

“What, a half ghost?”

“A creature neither alive nor dead,” said Nocturne.  “I think you fit that requirement quite nicely.”

The way Nocturne leered at him made Danny’s skin crawl.  He forced the ectoplasm swirling around his hands to recede and landed.

“Fine,” he snapped, again.  

Nocturne reached out towards his face and Danny swatted their hand away.

“I’ll go there awake, thanks.”

“Very well,” said Nocturne, still smiling.  They turned and opened the door.  It no longer led back into the hospital.  Nocturne’s form liquified, and they oozed through the door, gaining volume as they did so until they were in their massive usual form.  The one that could hold and crush Danny in the palm of a hand.  

Danny swallowed.  He hadn’t realized Nocturne could make portals like that.  He followed, and the portal shut behind him.  

Nocturne’s smile grew smugger.  They turned and made a sweeping gesture.  “Behold,” they said, “the Plain of Dreams.”

There… wasn’t much to look at.  There was a big island there, sure.  One large enough that the other side vanished into the horizon.  But the surface of the island was flat and gray, devoid of any point of interest except for size.  

“You live here?” asked Danny.  

“Once,” said Nocturne, almost wistful.  “But there is no time for reminiscing.  You have a role to play here.”

“Which is?”

“That of a lantern.”  Nocturne reached into the invisible folds of their robes and pulled out a glittering, golden, jewel-studded cage, one shaped like a lantern and floored with rich, plush bedding.  They pinched the door open and held it up in front of Danny.  

“No,” said Danny.  “I’m not getting in there.  If you need my glow or whatever for your thing, well, guess what?  I glow just as well out here.”

“It’s not quite that simple,” said Nocturne, circling him.  Danny turned, trying to keep eyes on Nocturne’s face and hands.  “You must be neither alive nor dead, awake nor asleep, willing nor unwilling.  Caged, but uncaptured.  Hungry, but full.  Complaisant, but steadfast.”

Danny’s skin prickled again.  He did not like this, and the fairy-tale-like phrasing was not helping his nerves.  “I don’t know that I’d call myself complacent.”

Nocturne chuckled.  “Different word, little ghost.  Or… I can seek out more friends of yours.  The girl in red, perhaps?”  They switched directions so fast Danny couldn’t keep track of them.  Their next words were whispered into Danny’s hair.  “She still dreams of you, you know.”

Danny flinched away, glaring, but he couldn’t hold Nocturne’s gaze for long.  He frowned at the cage instead.  He did not like it.  At all.  

“I get to leave at the end?” he asked, knowing full well he couldn’t hold Nocturne to that in any meaningful way.  Even Nocturne’s word that he’d let his family and friends go didn’t mean much.  

But what else could he do?  He’d already tried to wake them up himself, and he didn’t know what else Nocturne could do to them when they were in that state.

“Yes, yes, and I’ll wake your family.  We have already discussed this.  You are wasting time.”

“We hadn’t discussed this, actually,” said Danny.  “We’ve barely ‘discussed’ anything.”

“I can send them deeper,” said Nocturne, voice low and dangerous.  “Do you want that, child?  Perhaps their doctors will notice when they stop breathing on their own.  Perhaps not.”

Danny, core making an awful whining sound, raised his hands in surrender and flew into the cage.  Nocturne, moving swiftly, closed it behind him.  

The exhaustion he’d been holding back all day (or was it all week?  All month?  All year?  Since he died the first time?) poured over him.  Against his will, he sank slowly to the blankets and pillows at the bottom of the cage, clouds of golden dust rising around him as his weight settled.  His eyelids fluttered, and his vision became blurred, uncertain.  

Nocturne threaded their long, pointed fingers through the bars of the cage and pressed one against Danny’s chest, over his core.  Inky, starry blackness flowed from Nocturne’s finger and into Danny.  He could feel it being pressed into his core, and his core drank it in, growing colder.  His aura flared out involuntarily, to a brightness that was almost painful.  He groaned and tried to turn his head against one of the pillows.  

“That wasn’t so bad, now, was it?” asked Nocturne in a falsely sweet voice.  It echoed weirdly, the words warping around their edges, morphing into other voices, other conversations.  “A simple waking dream.  Look.”

With some effort, Danny raised his head as Nocturne thrust the lantern-cage forward.  For a moment, bright colors streaked dizzyingly across his vision, like fireworks and flowers, but then–

What lay before him was not the gray and featureless plain he had seen only moments before.  Instead, ringed by the golden haze of dreams was a vibrant forest, decked with vivid colors and bright flowers, brighter and more numerous than they ever would be in reality.  Or maybe jungle was a better word.  In the distance, majestic mountains rose from the middle of the jungle, tinted blue and purple, glittering cities of gold and crystal built on their slopes.  A flight of butterflies bigger than birds exploded from the near edge, and swooped around Nocturne and Danny in a rainbow whirlwind.  Some of them had wingspans longer than his arm.

“What,” Danny might have said, aware that his words were slurred into unintelligibility, if they were spoken at all, “is that?”

“The Dream Wilds,” said Nocturne.  

They reached into the cage again, adjusting Danny’s position so that he was halfway between sitting and lounging, hemmed in and supported by blankets.  They might as well have been chains, and even as that picture developed in his mind’s eye, it developed in reality as well.  Blanket twisted around his limbs and grew darker, the fabric taking on a metallic sheen.  Pillows grew heavier… but also softer, pulling him yet deeper into the half-dreaming state Nocturne had forced on him.  

He was, really, horribly comfy.  

If it wasn’t for his hazmat suit and its boots, Danny could almost be convinced he was bundled up in his own bed.  Then, he blinked, long, slow, and sleepy, and he wasn’t wearing his hazmat suit anymore.  Instead, he was wearing a set of pajamas that, if he’d seen them in the real world, would have sent him into paroxysms of envy.  They were a set, a button-down shirt and a pair of pants, the type of pajamas he liked the most.  They also were sewn with tiny star-shaped sequins in the pattern of real constellations.  

Danny knew they weren’t real.  Unfair.  

Nocturne chuckled and tugged on Danny’s newly-bare toes.  

“Don’t,” mumbled Danny, sleepily, not coordinated enough to twitch away.  “Let’s get this over with already.”

“Yes,” said Nocturne, gliding forward.  “Let’s.”

.

The Plain of Dreams was only the greatest of the many places in the Ghost Zone where the ethereal and otherwise elusive energies of dream gathered.  It had been tamed, once, and inhabited, brought to the kind of civilization only known in the dreams of visionaries.  Crystal cities of philosophy.  Hidden villages in perfect harmony with nature.  Utopias of justice, science, and art.  

But those realms were long gone.  When the rulers of the Dream Kingdoms saw the approach of Pariah Dark's armies, they ordered the caged dreamers on whose dreams the foundations of the cities were built woken and released, and their cities faded back into the wilds, and the wilds themselves faded and sunk into slumber until only fragments and memories remained.  

There were ways to navigate them, if one had the right tools.  Ways to access the Dream Wilds where they slumbered, still beautiful, rich, and powerful.  Even with those tools, however, the Dream Wilds were still immeasurably dangerous.  

Even in the Ghost Zone, there were few places where one could be destroyed by their own passing fancy.  

It had taken years upon years for Nocturne to find the lantern-cage, a relic from one of the Dream Kingdoms, traded to a traveler and sold on as a curiosity not long before Pariah took the throne.  Cages not unlike this, but far grander, had held the forever-sleeping dream-architects who had made up the foundations of the great Dream Kingdoms.  The only other Nocturne had ever heard of beyond the borders of the Dreamlands had been from their own collection, melted down to be reforged as part of the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep.  

The success of that plan had made the sacrifice worth it, but Nocturne still resented it, and the lost opportunities it represented.  

All too often, Nocturne found themself dreaming of what would have been, if they had still had their own lantern-cage.  If they had been able to travel back, to reach the Dream Kingdoms before they fell to ruin entirely, to enter the great halls with a dreamer, and once again let dreams be true.  

But even dreams must bow to time.  

The cage was not all Nocturne needed, nor the only preparation they had to make.  Among other things, the cage was useless without the proper dreamer.  

The Dream Kingdoms had, for the most part, used volunteers.  Specially selected, educated, and prepared, quite literally pampered beyond the dreams of sloth, the dream-architects of old had been remarkable.  But even they were unlikely to have had the qualities Nocturne sought.  

And seek they did, searching high and low, throughout both the Infinite Realms and the human world.  But no matter what dreamer they brought to the Plain of Dreams, no matter how long Nocturne wandered, their lantern did not light the way.  

They had thought it must be a matter of power, and set to collecting dream energy from wherever they could, even going to the human world to gather it from living sleepers.  That particular endeavor did not go well, and they returned to the Realms with less than what they’d started with.  

But then they found that old record, and its list of odd requirements.  Neither alive nor dead, awake nor asleep, willing nor unwilling.  Caged, but uncaptured, hungry, but full, complaisant, but steadfast.  A liminal dreamer was required, and not just any liminal.  

There were only two liminals that Nocturne knew of.  He could, with some effort force either of them to fulfill most of the other conditions.  Waking dreams were well within his capabilities, the right pressure on an Obsession would have any ghost, full or otherwise, walking into a cage.  Hungry but full was trickier, but the lantern-cages were designed to help regulate what their inmates absorbed, among other things that allowed their function of bringing dreams into reality.  A glut of dream energy and a dearth of more traditional forms of sustenance would do nicely for Nocturne’s plans, and if the requirement was more metaphorical, they could adapt.  

The difficulty lay in 'complaisant but steadfast.'

The elder half ghost was widely regarded as a coward, having fled from too many fights he himself had started.  Even if he wasn't, Nocturne had tasted his dreams.  Vlad Masters relished every bit of power he could hold over others, and resented any he could not subjugate or suborn.  

The younger… Any being that could escape a dream crafted by Nocturne had to be described as both willful and strong-willed.  Yet, while the child had dreamed of being recognized and praised for the service he provided, in the waking world he provided those services unasked and unrewarded.  

It wasn't ideal, but it would have to do.  Nocturne wasn't about to make more of the creatures.  

From there, their preparations were relatively simple.  Phantom was young and brash, not stupid.  He may have managed to defeat Nocturne once, but the circumstances had been vastly different.  Then, Nocturne had been gathering dream energy and assessing the potential of dreamers.  They had been spread thin, distracted.  

trapping a whole city in slumber.  

Which led to the present moment.  

As during their first encounter, the boy was far more susceptible to dream sand than even ordinary humans.  Nocturne could not recall at the moment whether or not Plasmius had fallen asleep as quickly, or if the weakness was unique to Phantom, but that hardly mattered.  What mattered was that he was working.

Where Phantom's aura fell, the Dream Wilds and all their flora and fauna became real, material, some might even say alive.  The radius of the effect was miniscule.  Nocturne could easily see beyond it, past the golden air and verdant leaves, to where the Plain of Dream was as drab and flat as ever. Phantom was not one of the great dreamers of old.  Nor, Nocturne could already tell, would the masterworks once crafted by those dreamers be making an appearance.  Phantom's conception of the Dream Wilds was too simple, too imperfect to support such complexities.

Butterflies.  Really.  

Even some of Nocturne's earlier dreamers had done better, reached further.  

And yet… the texture, the depth of color, the quality of light… Yes, with Phantom as their lantern, he would reach the ruins at the heart of the Dream Wilds, and finally claim what they had sought for so long.

Lantern in hand, they glided forward, beneath the boughs of the great trees.  

.

Danny had expected it to be dark under the trees.  It had looked dark.  Instead, every leaf, every branch, every flower, every crawling, flying, or running thing, every wisp of colored mist was illuminated by Danny’s own aura, which showed no sign of dimming.  The shadowless quality of the surroundings added to their dreaminess, another layer of unreality on top of the haze, blur, and dazzle.  

Danny slowly turned his head back towards the way they’d come from.  The way he thought they’d come from.  Already, the open Ghost Zone sky was entirely hidden from view.  They could have been walking for hours, not… not…

How long had they been walking?  Had it been hours?  He couldn’t tell.  

Danny really didn’t like this.  But he couldn’t really do anything about it.  He was in a cage, and Nocturne still had his family hostage.  Plus, moving and thinking felt like swimming through honey.  Soft, cozy, comfy honey that made him sleepy.  The way the cage swung helped with that, a gentle, lulling, rocking motion that had him drifting, distracted.  

He blinked hard, rousing back to the half-asleep state Nocturne had put him in.  Being caged was one thing.  Being totally unaware of his surroundings while caged by an enemy was something else.  

“Where are we going?” he asked.  

Nocturne said nothing.  

“Where are we going?” he repeated, adding volume in the hope that it would let his words carry more clearly.  

Nocturne looked down at him contemplatively, clearly weighing options.  Then they smiled, sly, smug, and indulgent.  “We hunt the Beast of Dreams.  A chimera with many forms and faces, it guards the way to our destination.  Three times we must face them, and three times we must gain their tokens, else even your light will not shine on our path.”

“What if we, um.”  Danny licked his lips, trying to recover the thread of his question.  His tongue felt heavy in his mouth.  “What if we can’t find them?”

Nocturne tsked at him.  “What a terrible attitude to have,” they scolded.  “It’s almost as if you don’t care about your family at all.  After all, if you are useless, so are they.”  

They stopped their glide and reached through the bars of the cage, touching Danny’s shoulder where it joined to his neck.  Normally, with his hazmat suit, it wouldn’t even be exposed, but now Danny shivered as Nocturne pushed more energy into him.  He whimpered as his aura burned ever brighter in response.  His core hummed, high and strained, but his heart beat steadily, and his breathing stayed deep and slow.

“Guide me, little lantern, little light,” whispered Nocturne.  “I seek the Beast in the guise of Falsehood, where it lairs at the Gates of Horn and Ivory.  Show me the way.”

Danny had no idea how Nocturne thought he could navigate when he had never been here before and could barely see past his own aura.  No direction seemed better or more notable than any other direction.  

Finally, his eyes landed on a group of trees practically exploding with white and purple flowers.  He twitched his fingers in their general direction.  

Nocturne withdrew their hand and started moving in that direction at once.  Danny let out a sigh as his core gradually returned to a more relaxed state.  

They were looking for 'The Beast of Dreams in the guise of Falsehood.'  What did that even mean?  What did that look like?  Some kind of animal?  Like a fox?  A snake?

"The being we go to meet is the very essence of the deception of dreams.  It is that which makes you forget that you are dreaming, that which make you think the dead are living, and the living, dead, that which calls you late to events long past, that which casts you in a thousand roles whose lines you have never learned.  It is illusion and confabulation, a fabulist beyond all others.  He speaks truth only in service to greater lies."

Danny… understood some of those words.  Maybe if was more awake, he'd know more of them.  

“Even so, within the bounds of this, our trial, he will be forced to some measure of truth.  He must set a true price for his token, when asked three times, and when that price is paid, he must hand it over.  But even such a small honesty is one it despises, and it will seek to mislead us.”

“Mhm,” said Danny.  Beast guy would lie, and lie a lot.  Not much different than dealing with Nocturne themself.  Must be a dream thing.  

His eyes drifted to the trees and flowers outside the cage.  Periodically, glossy leaves reflected his aura back at him, making him blink and wince.  The trees here were really big, most of them towering even over Nocturne.  Which made sense, if Nocturne was from here, and they had those huge butterflies to contend with.  They’d fit their scale.  It still felt weird to Danny, and didn’t help with his deepening sense of unreality.

He blinked again, and his blink must have been longer than he'd thought, because when he opened his eyes, they were no longer walking, but standing under a massive apple tree.  Its branches spread wide and hung heavy with brilliantly red fruit.  No other trees grew under its shadow.  

To either side of the trunk, set into the hedge-like mass of greenery beyond the reach of the single great apple tree, were two tall gates made of pale materials.  Flowering vines grew around them, holding them shut as effectively as any chain. 

Speaking of chains… he shifted uneasily, and listened to the soft clanking of the blankets around him.  Yeah.  They were still messed up by… whatever was going on.  It wasn’t as if Nocturne had actually explained anything, and–

Something in the tree moved.  Danny startled as he realized that something was an immense snake.  Patterned in poisonous green and red, it blended in almost-perfectly with the surrounding leaves and apples.  

Normally, he wouldn’t blink twice at a giant ghost snake.  He’d fought more than his fair share of them.  Cobras, boas, vipers, rattlesnakes, you name it.  But this ghost radiated power far beyond that of a normal animal ghost, and he felt himself shrinking down among the pillows and blankets in an attempt to hide.  

He knew it wouldn’t work.  He was glowing too brightly.  

“Nocturne,” said the snake without moving his mouth.  His was deep and smooth, and reminded Danny of Vlad and, oddly, Clockwork.  “What an unexpected pleasure!”  It extended its head down, beyond the lower branches of the tree, as if in greeting.  “I see you have a new lantern with which to light your way.  I wish you good fortune on your journey, and hope you gain everything you seek.”

Danny winced at the use of the word ‘wish,’ but Desiree didn’t immediately jump out of the bushes, so he forced himself to refocus on the conversation in front of him.  

“Falsehood,” said Nocturne, “I come for your token.  What price have you set for it?”

“Is that any way to greet a friend?  It has been so long since your last visit, and you have not even thought to introduce your new friend.”  The snake lowered itself partially to the ground, the end of his tail still hidden in the trees, and began to circle Danny and Nocturne.  “He looks delectable.  I would love to just gobble him up.  That’s a joke, dear.”  It twisted to look more fully at Nocturne.  “I would never dispute your ownership of anything, after all.  Much less the light you steer by.”

“Enough,” said Nocturne.  “What price have you set for your token, that I might move forward?”

The snake shook his head.  "Moving forward, my dear?  Is that what you call this?  I must congratulate you indeed.  And in such a timely manner, too, for just the other night, another lantern-bearer came by, and took for herself the last of my to–"

"What must we pay to receive your token?"

"You won’t let me have even the smallest morsel of fun," complained the snake. "Your mother taught you no manners.  But very well.”  It turned away from both of them, somehow conveying the sentiment of sulking despite its body being a tube.  “In exchange for my token, I require either a thing that is both true and false at once, one lie that will become true, or one truth that will become a lie.”

"Any one?" asked Nocturne suspiciously. 

"The merchant cares not if you pay in gold or silver, only that he is paid."

"I want an answer, not a riddle."

"That is my sister's domain, not mine."

“Oh my gosh,” said Danny.  “Just do it.  If he doesn’t give you anything, then you know he lied.”

“Stupid child.  What do you think he means by ‘will become?’  So long as even a fraction of this place is held in reality, he has the power to make it so, and his games are far worse than those of the jinn you play with.”

“I know the rules as well as you, if not better,” protested the snake.  “I would not break them.”

“You would if you could.”

“I will not break them, then.  It is the same.  If you do not, perhaps I will assume you did come just to visit.  There are so many things you have missed when you were away, dearest.  It breaks my heart.”

“I doubt that.  This place is an abandoned ruin, the merest shadow of what it was.”

“And many places are, since the reign of the Pariah,” said the snake, mildly.  “Yet, even so, you have come here, dreamer in hand.  Do you imagine that everything is where you left it, even as you say that this place has fallen?  Perhaps.  Perhaps not.”

Nocturne shook their head.  “I will not listen to your lies.  You won’t trick me.  Not again.”  They hung Danny’s cage on one of the lower branches and started to pace, hands behind their back.  

The snake sighed, and, to Danny’s alarm, wound around the branch he was suspended from to peer into the cage.  His eyes weren’t like a normal snake’s.  Instead of pupils, they had several spirals in varying shades of red, green, and black, and rotated slowly, hypnotically.  Danny found himself unable to look away, his awareness of Nocturne and, indeed, the rest of the snake fading.  

Until, that is, the snake spoke again.  

“It is just as possible for a lie to be told for a greater truth, as it is for a truth to be told for a lie.  I do not care for you, but my games, as you call them, are for the greater good of all.”

Danny blinked his eyes, which had begun to water, hard.  Crap, that was scary.  Not quite to the level of Freakshow’s staff, but scary.  The only thing that kept him from trying to find a way out right now was that even if he escaped, his family couldn’t.  He needed to stay here, stay strong, for them.  He’d already tried everything he could do on his own.  

“You will accept a statement that is both true and not in exchange for your token?”

“Yes.  Or one truth that will become false, or one falsehood that will become true.  I’m not terribly picky.”

“And you only want to hear this thing, not wipe it from my mind?”

“I don’t even have the power to do that.”

“I know for a fact you do.  You only want to hear this statement, and you will accept that as payment?”

“Oh, are you asking me three times?  It is almost as if you don’t trust me.  That’s hurtful, after our long acquaintance.”

“Will you, or will you not, accept a statement both true and false as payment?”

“I will, I will!”  The snake sniffed loudly, a sound Danny didn’t even think snakes could make…  Then again, this snake was talking, a ghost, and maybe also a dream (Danny was unclear on that point), so, really, they were already far beyond that point.  “I know you don’t consider me worthy of respect, but shouldn’t you at least respect the rites and rules?  It will go much more smoothly.  Quickly, too, if that’s something you’re after.”

Nocturne smothered a growl.  They raised a knuckle to their lips, the starry blackness of the digit standing out starkly against their mask-like face.  “Then my payment is this: the path I seek is the one that leads to the Crown and Cup of Dreams.”

The snake laughed, an odd, barking noise.  “And you say I never taught you anything.”

Nocturne opened their mouth as if to argue, expression pinched and sour, but then closed it, thoughtfully.  “You are trying to distract me.  I have given you payment.  I expect your token in return.”

The snake sighed long and heavy.  It wound its way onto a nearby branch and pointed its nose at one of the apples.  “Any of these apples may serve as my token.”

Nocturne quickly picked the apple the snake had indicated.  Then, they flew to where Danny’s cage still hung.

In Nocturne’s hand, the apple was large.  Big enough that it wouldn’t look strange if they tried to take a bite out of it.  Big enough that if it was hollowed out, Danny could fit in it comfortably.  But that wasn’t what Nocturne did.  Instead, they brought the apple to the bars of the cage, and as it passed through them, it shrunk down until it could fit easily in Danny’s hands.  

The perspective made Danny’s head swim.  It didn’t work.  But it did, and it was, and Nocturne was pressing the apple against his lips.  

“Eat,” they said.  Despite their earlier anger, that smug, teasing smile was once again bending the corners of their lips upward.  “The purpose of these tokens is to ensure the lantern can light the way.”

Danny leaned away from the apple, squinting at it.  "No," he said.  

It wasn't as if Danny's parents had ever sent him to Sunday School (the Holy Spirit was bad enough.  The Holy Ghost?  You got the picture), but Sam had always been delighted to share the darker stories, and Tucker’s parents went to church on Sunday mornings, whether Danny was staying over or not.  Plus, he did try to pay attention to literary symbolism in English, even if Mr. Lancer didn't think so.  

A snake offering apples?  Bad news. 

Maybe if Nocturne was the one being told to eat it, or if Danny's friends and family weren't on the line, he wouldn't have said anything, because screw Nocturne.  But they weren't and they were.  

"This isn't your token.  You're lying."a

The snake chuckled.  "Clever child."

Nocturne snarled and darted forward, clawed hand closing around the serpent's neck.  The edges of their form were flared out, like feathers or fur.  The apple fell down and vanished among the pillows and blankets.  

"I have paid your price.  I fulfill every requirement to walk this path, and you have no right to keep it from me!"

The serpent evaporated and reformed deep among the branches of the apple tree.  “You call me a liar, when you tell such untruths yourself!  Every right is mine, and mine alone!  Nor was I paid.”

“I gave you my statement, both true and untrue.  You will not cheat me.  Not now.”

“Did you?” asked the snake, clearly delighted by this turn of events.  

“How dare you speak of rules and respect, when you desecrate this ancient rite?  How dare you stand in my way, when I–”

“Indeed!  Who else should stand in your way?  My sisters and brothers?  All those with a greater claim to this path?”

As it turned out, despite everything, Danny had been paying attention to the whole conversation, even if he hadn’t followed all of it.  Nocturne had been sure the snake couldn’t lie if he was asked the same thing three times… so maybe he didn’t.  

“If the token is for me,” he said, slowly, “is Nocturne the one who has to pay the price, or is it me?  When you said ‘you’ earlier, you were talking to me, weren’t you?  I’m the one who needs to say one of those three things?”

The snake approached again, and Danny hastily averted his eyes.  "I like this one, Nocturne.  He reminds me of you, when you were younger, and better behaved."  He paused, significantly.  "And smarter.  Yes, little light, you are the one who must answer me, if you desire my token.  Of course if you do not…"  

Danny understood what the snake was implying, but he did, in fact, need that token.  

He really hated hostage situations.

But if what Nocturne had implied about the snake’s powers was true, maybe he could use this.  After all, nothing said the lie had to be his.

"Nocturne said they'd bring my family and friends out of their comas if I help them.  Can I give you that as the lie?"

The snake started laughing.  Danny, meanwhile, felt like his brain had been peeled out of his body and he was floating over his skin.  The persistent misty softness had converged on him, and now he was floating.  

"I had doubted before, but now I understand how it is that you were the one to defeat Pariah Dark.  Nocturne, dear, he has to be able to take the token.  I doubt keeping him like that will prevent him from vexing you, anyway."

“I can make him take it.”

“As you would.  Now–”

“You have not been this cooperative before.”

“Perhaps I simply want you gone.  You are, as I have mentioned, incredibly rude.  And ugly.  And I find what you are doing to be repugnant, as you yourself would, had you given it thought beyond your base desires.  Not that you listen to me–”

“You’re going to try to pass off something random as your token again, aren’t you?  And then you’ll claim it is because you didn’t give it to him, you cheat.”

“Me?  A cheat?  Never.  Or only at card games.  It is very difficult to play a hand when you don’t have any.”

“You aren’t even a snake.  You only look that way because of how he’s dreaming you.  But what I don’t understand is why you seem to want him awake.  You’re never this transparent.”

“Are you sure I want him awake?  Perhaps that is only what I want you to think.  Ah, and now you’re tying yourself in circles.  A shame.  Once you were good at this.  Or at least passable.  And you wonder why you couldn’t even hold the dreams of a single human city, much less the power that passes through here.”

“I am the Master of Dreams, and–”

“Only because there was no one else qualified.”

There was a long silence, and Danny felt himself drifting back to the surface of awareness.  That had been… strange.  

“Give him,” said Nocturne, their voice gravely with suppressed rage, “your token.”

Danny noticed with some alarm that the snake was wound around the cage.  When did it get so close?  Why did it get so close?  His scales flashed at him.  

“Take two,” said the snake.  

“What?”

“Take two of my scales.  Together, they make my token.”

“And… am I supposed to eat them or something?”  That… was that the right thing to ask?  Everything was still a bit floaty.  “Don’t laugh,” he said, crossly as the snake started to snicker.  It did that a lot.  “I’m serious.  You wanted me to eat the other thing.  The, um, the apple.  Are you going to make me eat these, too?”

“Take them and find out.”

Danny glanced back at Nocturne, but they didn’t make any objection this time.  Carefully and slowly, he crawled over the blankets to the bars of the cage.  Because of the way the bottom of the cage was curved and how the pillows and blankets were ever so slightly higher near the outside edge, he had to hold onto one of the bars to stay in place.  

“Any two?” he asked.

“No, the two you get by adding one and one.”

Danny glared at the snake for a moment, but quickly returned to looking at the scales.  Each one was only a little smaller across than his palm.  They glittered, and Danny blinked sleepy tears out of his eyes.  He adjusted his grip on the bars and resisted the temptation to lie down.  

He really didn't want to do this.  

"It won't hurt you?" he asked. That wasn't his main concern, but… in the moment, it was a concern.

"No more than pulling free a hair."

Depending on the hair, that could hurt quite a bit.  He reached out and grabbed a scale at random.  It slid free with surprising ease.

Most of it was green, but the edge of it was vivid red, as if it had been rolled in blood.  He tucked it quickly into the pocket at his breast, and reached for the next scale.  This one was green all over, a smooth gradient from one side to the other.  

He let go of the bar and slid back into the cozy nest in the center of the cage as if guided by an outside force.  Even without Nocturne’s intervention, the blankets and pillows tucked themselves in around him.  If anything, he felt even more secure than before, only head and hands free.  

But he was sitting there, holding the scales, one in each hand.  

In dreams, occasionally a dreamer is seized by knowledge or need apropos of nothing.  They know that this is their grandmother's house, even though it's obviously the grocery store.  They know they must hold the cards with only their left hand, or otherwise they'll lose, never mind what game they're playing.  Sometimes, too, the dreamer simply acts.  The impetus for their actions obscure, not originating from their own thoughts.  Jumping from cars, yelling, fighting, eating, smoking, cheating on tests, being unable to stop.  

Danny, not thinking about anything in particular, raised the scales to his eyes.  They sunk into his skin without a trace.  

At first, he rubbed his skin and eyes furiously, hoping to find a way to peel them off, but then… 

He saw.  

He could see.  

Before, it had been difficult to keep his eyes open, impossible to see past his own aura, but now everything looked so clear, from the leaves, to the apples, to the grass, to the gates and the ruins beyond them.  

"You see, now," said the snake, kindly.  "The purpose of my token is to shield your eyes, so you can see.  And, I suppose, better guide the one that carries you.  Before, you burned too brightly for your own good, but now…"  

Danny nodded as the snake spoke.  Vaguely, he felt as if he shouldn't agree with him, but what he was saying made sense.  He did see better.  He saw more.  

Most things were still misty, out of the corners of his eyes, but directly in front of them, they were clear and crisp.  Sharp.  Well defined.  

He could even see the path on the forest floor, where it ran underneath them and to one of the pale gates - which didn't look nearly as overgrown as he had originally thought.  

(There was something very wrong with that thought, with all these thoughts.  But this thought, in turn, slipped away and disappeared.)

“Which way, child?” asked Nocturne.  “We have wasted enough time here.”

Danny’s tongue felt heavy in his mouth, so he pointed instead.  It was strange that Nocturne could not see the path.  Nocturne walked that way, lantern in hand.  And when had he picked the cage back up?  Danny was missing something.

“Nocturne,” called the snake.  “I meant what I said.”

“About what?”

“All of it.  Give my sister-self my regards.”

[heartbreak-sandwich]

Billy Hargrove x Fem!OC

Summary: JJ would never turn down a free candy cane. When she runs into Billy and company on the street, he can't get her out of his head. A text exchange heats up between them, and when JJ decides to take things one step further with a steamy photo, Billy has no choice but to take a bathroom break for some sweet relief. Experience the gift that keeps on giving in the next 1.5k words✨ CW: light SMUT, masturbation (M solo), mentions of p/v sex, sexting A huge thank you to my beta reader and editor @lifesshort-imshorter for helping me bring this piece to life!!!

DAY TWO OF HOHOHOE WEEK Prompt: Candy cane Read Part 1 in this mini series here

“Thanks again, Joyce!” JJ waved her final goodbye to Joyce Byers as she exited Melvald’s General Store and started down the sidewalk back to her parked car. She excitedly unwrapped the long end of her candy cane, immediately popping it in between her lips and hollowing her cheeks around the minty treat. Peppermint was her favorite, and she was never known to decline a free candy cane.

The chime of laughter rang in her ears as JJ approached a trio of people coming the opposite way down the sidewalk. She swore she recognized them – two men and a woman – all bundled up in winter garb, joking amongst themselves and walking at a brisk pace.

As she got closer, a fire started in her belly at the sight of Billy Hargrove walking alongside two of her other former Hawkins classmates, Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins. They hadn’t noticed her yet, so she did her best to compose her posture and brighten the look in her eyes.

“Is that JJ Feron?!” Carol exclaimed, holding out her arms and quickening her pace. It took all of the energy JJ could muster not to roll her eyes. She and Carol had never really been friends, but she wasn’t about to bitch and moan in front of Billy, especially after last night.

JJ accepted the friendly hug from Carol and tuned out her giddy gushing as she snuck a glance at Billy who wore his usual smirk, his icy blue eyes shining against the crystalline backdrop of snow and gray sky.

“How are you guys?” JJ willed herself to smile at the trio in greeting which was returned by Tommy as Carol began droning on about how miserable her journey home to Hawkins had been. JJ continued to lavish licks on her candy cane while she feigned interest in Carol’s story. She was eternally grateful when Tommy checked his watch, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“We’d better get going, babe. We’ll miss our movie. Great to see you, JJ. Let’s catch up later.” Tommy’s brisk remarks were music to JJ’s ears, and she unsheathed her candy cane from her mouth with a pop.

“Don’t miss your show. I’ll catch you guys later,” she replied contentedly.

“Later,” Billy agreed, his eye contact almost too intense for the moment. JJ couldn’t help but feel like Billy’s statement was more of a promise, and her suspicion was confirmed when she caught him stealing a glance at her over his shoulder as the three of them continued past where she stood on the sidewalk.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

JJ made it back to her bedroom, closing the door behind her. She was removing her winter layers and hanging them up in the closet when her phone buzzed in the pocket of her jeans. She took it out, surveying the screen, and a devious smile bloomed on her cherry-red lips.

Billy: Someone’s looking delicious today.

She stifled the giggle that broke open in her chest, the urge to kick her feet like a schoolgirl almost getting the best of her. As much as she wanted to return the compliment and then some, she decided to rein herself in and play it cool just to see if he might give chase.

JJ: Not nearly as delicious as this candy cane.

She was still working away at the candy cane, making sure to savor it as she undressed and got ready for a shower. Not even a few minutes flew by before her phone was buzzing again.

Billy: What I wouldn’t give to be that candy cane right now…

JJ’s eyes rounded, her cheeks almost matching the shade of her lipstick at Billy’s daring comment. She grinned around her candy cane and laid back on her bed to reply. She had an idea that would bring Billy to his knees.

JJ: What? You mean you want to be inside of my warm, wet mouth…have my soft tongue licking you up and down…getting your sticky flavors all over my lips?

It only took Billy a few seconds to respond, and she knew she had him in the palm of her hand.

Billy: Jacqueline…you’re killing me… JJ: I was just clarifying ;) Billy: Sure you were. At this rate, I might have to take a trip to the bathroom just so I can focus on the movie. JJ: A trip to the bathroom? What for? Billy: Wouldn’t you like to know…

JJ let herself squeal and laugh alone in her room. Ravaging a bite out of the end of her candy cane, she decided to take things a step further. She opened her robe to reveal her white lace bra and settled her snack snug in between her cleavage, letting it drip sticky sweetness onto her warm skin. Positioning the phone camera high above herself, she snapped a photo and quickly sent it before she could change her mind.

She stared back at herself on the screen, her red lips and the stripes of her holiday treat standing out bright against the pure white of her bra and bedsheets. As soon as the picture made it through to the other side, Billy was typing. JJ’s breath shallowed in anticipation.

Billy: DAMN. Billy: If you could only see what you’re doing to me right now.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

BILLY’S POV

Billy tapped Tommy on the shoulder in the dark. “Bathroom,” he whispered simply. Tommy nodded in response, and his eyes returned to the giant movie screen. Billy sidestepped out of the aisle and hurried out into the lobby of the theater, almost jogging his way to the men’s restroom. JJ Feron was going to be the death of him, and he was a willing victim.

He burst into the room with way too much gusto for a public restroom visit and made sure he was alone before locking himself in the stall furthest away from the door. Pulling out his phone, he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans with a groan, finally able to relieve some of the pressure on his aching, rock-hard cock.

Unlocking his phone, Billy pulled up the picture JJ had just sent him. Hiding it from Tommy during the movie was difficult, but he had managed to sneak a look at it just long enough to drive himself totally wild. He couldn’t take just sitting there anymore. After his adventure with JJ the night before, all he could think about was seeing her again, and this was the next best thing.

Seeing the photo a second time made him bite his lower lip, his brows knitting together in despair, missing her in that moment, as he gripped his waistband. With his empty hand, he let his cock spring free, salty dewdrops already forming at the tip. Billy stared at JJ’s perky tits just barely covered by her white lace bra, a bitten off candy cane nestled between them, and he spat into his hand. If he didn’t feel like he was about to explode into a million pieces at just the sight of this girl, he would be embarrassed at how unglamorous the situation was.

Tracing his tongue along his lower lip, he began a steady rhythm fisting his cock over and over to the thoughts of everything else he wanted to do to Jacqueline June Feron. He thought of her auburn curls tangled around his fingers as her pussy sucked him in deeper each time he tried to pull out. He remembered the sound of the frame of Steve’s mirror rattling against the wall, and JJ’s tireless moans, and each moment of pleasure he recalled only pushed him closer and closer to his edge.

Billy’s phone vibrated again, and the words on the screen sent him reeling.

JJ: I wish I was doing more…being the good girl I am, sucking you like that candy cane until you burst in my mouth…

That was all he needed. He felt a surge of heat just before he painted his hand white with his own sticky release, unable to stifle the strained moans escaping his throat in between his heavy, labored breathing. Delirious, wrist stiff and aching, he slumped against the wall of the stall he was in, waiting to regain his vision and control of the rest of his body as the wave of pleasure ebbed.

He took one last glance at JJ’s photo before he responded shamelessly.

Billy: My hand doesn't clean up nearly as well as your mouth would. Can I see you again tonight? JJ: I'm a little busy, but I'll try to fit you in. Billy: Oh, I know you can ;) JJ: Pick me up at 10.

With JJ's agreement to meet again that night, Billy shoved his phone into his pocket and cleaned up the best he could in the bathroom before sauntering back into the theater. He glanced at Tommy and Carol who were like zombies, mindlessly shoveling handfuls of popcorn into their mouths, hypnotized by the giant screen in front of them, barely even noticing he had returned.

Billy smirked to himself, feeling almost filthy for the break he had to take, but he really couldn't help himself. He couldn't get JJ off his mind no matter how hard he tried to concentrate on the show, and if he was honest, she was all he really wanted to think about.

💕Tag list: @imyourdaninow @justsimonrileythings @b1tchy3lf @jozstankovich @darleenjade @peachyaliien @dananahenderson @strangerthing93 @yoyokiss97 @californiaboytoybilly