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thebrotherscupheadandmugman · 5 years ago

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Fiery Frolic! With Grim Matchstick!

Before you read: This is a rewriting of the main game Cuphead. Characters, certain dialogue, music, and locations obviously do not belong to me. This is best read with the OST playing over it.

Before you start reading, I now have a Patreon you can donate to as well if you should want to support where I wish to take this project! Patrons have unique opportunities to help bring this story to life, so please check it out or become a patron if you feel so inclined! Too young or unable to give financial support? That’s perfectly fine! You can also support this project, and my future ones by reblogging these episodes for free! Oh, and here’s a link to all published episodes. Enjoy!

As the brothers crossed the second rainbow bridge in Isle Two, Mugman couldn't help but stare up at the tall spire with nervousness. Even from here, they could see a large, green tail that wrapped up and around the castle tower. Cuphead continued to drag Mugman across the bridge, even after the older brother's feet stopped moving. “Mugs, we at least have to cross the bridge before the sprinklers stop working.” “I-I-I know, I just...” Mugman gazed fearfully at the broken castle ahead of them. He suddenly pulled out the list of debtors and began reading it. “M-maybe there's someone else we should fight first!” Cuphead placed a hand over Mugman's and gently pushed his hand down so he could see his face. “Mug, we're here now. It'd waste more time ta run around and find any a the other debtors in the isle.” Mugman whined at that. “I know, but...” He let out a huff in frustration. “I-it's a dragon, Cups! A real-life dragon! You know how many times Elder Kettle's said he lost fellow knights to dragons!! A-and they're trained for combat! How can we possibly stand a chance to a fire-breathing dragon?!” Mugman began biting his nails through his gloves, clippings flying off his fingertips with each chatter he made.

Mugman imagined a dark scene, where the dragon angrily roared at them with burning, glowing yellow eyes as he flew around his castle with razor-sharp teeth bared out at them. The dragon breathed fire that burned so brightly, it made the sun seem dim in comparison, making the entire landscape darker as his eyes could only seem to focus on the yellow and orange flames.

Cuphead quickly waved the thought cloud away with his hand, only to notice Mugman had began to chew on his straw now. “Mug, yer such a worry-wart! Stop chewin' up yer straw, and quit bein' a sippy cup.” Cuphead tried as he grabbed Mugman by his right wrist to pull him across the bridge. “Everythin's gonna be fine!” “H-how can you be so confident about this?!” Mugs asked, his straw flying out from his teeth once he opened his mouth. “Because. When the two of us stand together, there's nothin' that can take us down.” Mugman lowered his head anxiously. That was a little comforting, but could the two of them truly take down a dragon? Cuphead noticed, and gave his brother a reassuring pat on his right shoulder. “Everything's gonna be fine. Swear on my straw.” “You swear on your straw?” “Uh-huh!” Cuphead nodded with a wide smile. “Cross my heart, hope to crack, stick a sword in yer back! Besides,” Cuphead took off the glove on his left hand, revealing the lavender ring on his finger. “We got this new weapon, and you've got invincibility on yer side thanks to that swell, new, magical Super Art.” Mugman pulled out the Super Coin labeled with II from his pocket and looked at it. “You're not going to try it?” “Nah.” Cup shook his head, “I'd rather be able to do massive damage and end things quicker.” “Can't end it if we don't survive it.” Mugman argued, but sighed and placed the coin back in his pocket. “But you're right. It'd make no difference if we put off this fight and run out of time, or if we fight him now and lose.” “That's...not what I was goin' for, but we'll roll with it!”

Our heroes stood outside the castle and looked up at the stone spire from the grass below. Cuphead let out a whistle at how tall the tower stood. They could hear a ferocious roar from outside, one that shook the ground from where they stood, followed by an exhale of air. Mugman quivered in his boots, clinking in fear as the dragon roared again and exhaled. It was starting to form a pattern. “J-j-just why is he r-roaring like that?! D-does he know we're here?!” “Maybe we should find the window his tail is coming out from, and sneak in from behind.” Cuphead thought. “Y...yeah, that's actually not a bad idea.” The brothers walked around the left side of the tower, and found the dragon tail that stuck out the window and wrapped around the tower. “Do you think he's looking this way?” “I dunno, I can't see from here. Uh, hang on, lemme try somethin'.” Cuphead removed his straw from his head, and angled one end to form a perfect 'L' shape. He then bent the bottom of his straw towards him just a tad and looked through the end of his straw to try and see inside, but he couldn't quite see through the window, and ended up staring right at the stone wall. “Ugh, I still can't see!” “Here.” Mugman grabbed his little brother's handle and lifted his head off his shoulders, just enough to see past the wall. “Ack!” The child squeaked, not quite expecting that, but it was just the extra height he needed. “Perfect, thanks!” Cuphead moved the straw back up to his eyes, looked inside the security castle, and saw the tail leave the room and trail around the corner. “Mug, he ain't even in the room!” Cuphead announced as he removed the kink he made in his straw before putting it back in his head. Mugman put his brother's head back on his shoulders, then Cuphead turned around. “Gimme a boost, we can sneak right in!” Mugman nodded. “O-okay...”

Mugman put his hands together to give his brother some footing, and Cuphead placed his right foot in the mug's hands, holding onto the older's shoulders for balance. “Ready?” Cuphead asked. Mugman nodded. “Just climb in though. If you jump in, you'll make too much noise when you land. Now's not a good time to be a showoff. And do not touch his tail!” Mugman whispered. “Well duh!” Cuphead hoisted himself up in Mugman's hands, grabbed onto the inside of the stone window sill and pulled himself up. “Watch the tail, watch the tail!!” Mugman warned cautiously. Cuphead pulled himself as close to his right-hand side as he could, placed his left foot on the window and pushed himself forwards, quietly landing inside the castle. He stuck his straw out the window from the other side. “Take my straw!” Cuphead whispered. Mugman grabbed onto the red straw and gave a small tug. The straw was suddenly yanked back into the castle, taking Mugman along with it. “Eep!” The screen shook with the sound of a crash!

Cuphead looked down at Mugman as he laid on the ground, holding his head as stars and birds circled around it. After a few moments though, Mugman shook them off and stood up. “Well, we're in.” Mugman said as he looked around at the ancient castle. “Let's follow the tail to find Grim.” “Mm-hmm.” Cuphead agreed.

The boys silently followed the large green tail around the corner, only to find it trailing up a spiral staircase. “Wha- how long is his tail?!” Mugman whispered. “We have to climb all the way up?!” “We have to climb all the way up, without stepping on his tail, and without falling off the other side!!” “But his tail is basically the same size as the stairs! How we supposed to do that?!” “Uh...just watch your step?” “Great. If we don't accidentally touch him, we'll fall off the side and shatter.” “Well that's optimism.” Mugman sighed.

The brothers began to climb the stairs, they were careful not to brush the dragon's tail or step off the ledge. After what seemed like an hour for the kids, they finally reached the top of the stairwell, both practically crawling their way up those final few steps, heaving and wheezing as they tried to catch their breath. How could anyone ever have climbed all the way up while wearing such heavy armor?! “Why...couldn't...have...the princess...built this place...with an...elevator?!” Cuphead panted. “Elevators...weren't...invented...until...1853...guh!” Mugman wheezed.

After a few moments of catching their breath, the brothers finally stood, ready to continue their search for the roaring dragon at the end of the tail. They walked forward and entered one last room before they finally spotted this mighty, ferocious dragon.

Grim Matchstick laid in the middle of the room on his back, his short arms and legs sticking lazily up in the air, almost like a dog or a cat. His long, lizard-like tongue hung out from his wide-open mouth limply, even lying on the stone floor some as his chubby tummy gently moved up and down with each breath. Grim roared loudly, then exhaled. Then, he roared again, but this time, there was a definitive snorting sound to it, followed by a slight sigh. “He's snoring?!” Cuphead whispered, causing one of Grim's ears to twitch. “This is...definitely not what I was expecting.” Mugman admitted, but he still didn't want to be the one who woke up a sleeping giant. “How exactly are we going to do this?” Grim's ears twitched again, and he suddenly stirred, causing Mugman to jump right into Cuphead's arms with a hushed gasp.

Grim closed his mouth and rolled over on his stomach, curling his long neck against his legs as he sleepily mumbled something. “That was close.” Mugman breathed. “Well, we still gotta get his contract!” Cuphead argued, dropping his older brother from his arms. “Ack!” Mugman squeaked as he landed on the stone. “Shh!” “Yer the one screaming.” “Just wait.” Mugman stood and brushed himself off, small gray dust clouds forming as he did. “If he's sleeping, we can snoop around and try and find it without waking him!” Grim's ears twitched again as Mugman explained. “We don't have to fight him!” Was someone trying to steal one of his scales again? “For once, we don't have to resort to violence!” They seemed like good-natured folks, but they also sounded like kids. Why would two kids need a dragon scale? “Mug, we might not have time for that.” Time? Oh no...

Grim finally opened one of his eyes to see what was going on, which Cuphead noticed immediately and looked on in fear. “Look, I think it'd be easier to make up for lost time than it would be to try and fight a dragon,” Mugman explained, oblivious to the shadow that loomed over him and his brother. “Uh, M-Mugs?” Grim looked down at the kids, unintentionally towering over the boys. As Mugman looked back and he squealed in fear as he saw the large dragon glaring down at them. No doubt Grim heard what Mugman said. They were ceramic toast. The dragon huffed out a bit of smoke as he stretched his wings.

Grim let out as quiet of a yawn as he could to avoid frightening the children, small sleepy tears pricking the corners of his eyes. “H-h-h-holy smokes! I d-d-d-didn't even hear you two come in! S-s-s-sorry about that, I had a rough n-n-n-night's sleep last night, so I didn't r-r-r-really clean as much as I sh-sh-sh-should have.” Grim stuttered, genuinely feeling sorry about his messy castle. The brothers looked at each other, unsure of how to react. Grim noticed his tail ended up wrapped around the castle again, so he unraveled himself from both the inside and the outside of the tower. “So, wh-wh-wh-what brings you two to the security castle? Is there s-s-s-something you n-n-n-needed?” Mugman opened his mouth to speak, but only various noises managed to come out. Grim lowered his head a bit, just to try and make himself look less intimidating. “Aw, I'm sorry, I-I-I-I didn't mean to scare you! You two can ask me a-a-a-anything! Honest!” “Anything?” Cuphead checked. “Anything. I promise I won't g-g-g-get mad.” “Promise?” Repeated Cuphead. “P-p-p-promise.” Grim nodded, his ears perking up cheerfully with a smile as his tail wagged behind him. “T-t-t-trust me. I'm known for m-m-m-my patience.” “Well...Okay.” Cuphead toyed, acting like the innocent little kid he wasn't. “We need your Soul Contract.”

Grim's warm smile dropped at that, his ears drooped lowly. He never told anyone about his deal with the Devil. Grim's wings twitched instinctively as he straightened his neck up once more. “H-h-h-how d-did...?” Cuphead was growing nervous himself now, as he saw the dragon make himself taller again. “Uhh, n-now remember, y-you promised not ta get mad!” He tried, slowly losing his nerve as every bit as much as Mugman had. “D-d-d-did the Devil himself send you?!” Cuphead flinched at that. “Uhhh...” The brothers both nodded, more out of fear than anything else. Grim sighed and looked away to try and hide his quivering lip. “Y-y-y-you two don't seem like th-th-th-the type for the D-D-D-Devil's l-l-l-lackeys.” Grim took another deep breath, gaining control of his emotions for the time being. He turned his head back at our heroes and looked down at them with slight guilt. They were just kids. Children. And from the conversation they had earlier, they seemed like good kids, too. “Ah, w-w-well, y-you see,” Mugman started, “w-w-we basically, uh, went somewhere w-we weren't supposed ta, a-and things k-kinda got outta hand!!” The poor boy was terribly frightened and unable to quite read the dragon's body language well. “W-w-we really don't wanna, b-but--” Mugman's mouth suddenly felt dry, too dry to speak. “But you were t-t-t-tricked?” Grim concluded, looking down at Mugman. Mug slowly nodded, afraid to break eye contact with Grim. Grim sighed again. He truly felt bad. “I....I'd l-l-l-love to h-h-h-help you out. I t-t-t-truly would.” Cuphead and Mugman looked hopeful at that. “B-b-b-but I c-c-c-can't just...leave.” In an instant, their hopes fell. “I-I-I-I can't j-j-j-just give over m-m-m-my Soul Contract t-t-t-to you.” Grim looked away. “If I do, I-I-I-I'll have to l-l-l-leave. I'll h-h-h-have to leave my f-f-f-friends, a-a-a-and th-th-th-they'll be s-s-s-so w-w-w-worried a-a-a-about me. I-I-I-I don't want them t-t-t-to worry about li'l ole me.” “Little?” Cuphead whispered. “So...I g-g-g-guess this puts us a-a-a-at a bit of a s-s-s-standstill. A c-c-c-case of 'your soul or mine.' R-r-r-right?” Neither one of the brothers liked where this was going. Grim spread out his wings and gave them a gentle flap. “M-m-m-my soul and my Soul Contract belongs to me. A-a-a-and no one else! I-I-I-I'm sorry. T-t-t-truly, I am. B-b-b-but if you w-w-w-want to get it from m-m-m-me, th-th-th-then I must challenge you.” Grim reached into a drawer with his tail, pulled out the contract, then shut the drawer again. He showed the boys his contract, then put the scroll behind his back. He began to flap his wings and lifted his body off the ground. “Take it f-f-f-from me, if you dare!!” Grim suddenly took off out the window and into the sky with a large gust of wind that knocked Mug over and sent him rolling into the wall, just beside the window. “Oww!!” “C'mon Mugs, we gotta get moving!” Cup said as he pulled his older brother up by the hand and tried to lead him outside. “I ain't fightin' this lizard withoutchya!”

The brothers hopped onto a cloud passing by the window and saw Grim just a little farther out. Our heroes began to skip across the sky, jumping from cloud to cloud to catch up with the dragon. Grim suddenly burst into view from the right, his wings morphed into thin, large hands with wriggling fingers and kept his real arms around his chest as he stretched his lips out with a, “Booooo!” Although it wasn't exactly scary, Mugman was so frightened by having to fight a dragon that it got the preteen to jump and squeal. Grim couldn't help but snicker just a tad. Yes, it was mean, but he always got a kick out of startling people. Mugman pulled his straw down to his mouth and took a large gulp of milk from his head to rid himself of his dry mouth. Meanwhile, Cuphead took a deep breath and pulled up his shorts as he braced himself for the battle ahead.

Grim's eyes suddenly swirled and went zany as he charged up his dragon magic. Cuphead hopped onto a cloud ahead of him, not too far above, pointed behind his own head and snapped. The green Roundabout bullets swirled behind him, just above his brother, then swung forward to hit Grim in the base of his neck. Then, green magic rings fired out from Grim's eyes and straight for Cuphead, then for Mugman, each with a third pink one that followed behind the first two. “Ah!” Mugman threw himself towards the next cloud, jumping down on the surface directly below Cuphead and avoiding the attack. Mugman saw another cloud that was higher up, where he could get a better view and made two hops up to it. Meanwhile, Cuphead ran forward to beat the train of magic rings to the next nearest cloud, then, he let himself roll forward and off the cloud. The end of Cuphead's straw closed up to form a white-gloved hand as he continued to flip forward, the hand slapped against the pink magic, giving the child a slight boost. This, unfortunately, wasn't enough, however, and as soon as Cuphead landed on the edge of the cloud, he began to wobble and quickly fell with a shriek. “Mugman!!” Mugman quickly looked back and saw his brother dangling from the cloud with his right hand. “Cuphead!!” Mugman rushed over to the other side of the fluffy platform, got on his hands and knees and grabbed his little brother's wrist to pull him up. However, as Mugman began to pull his brother up, Cuphead noticed how Grim's eyes went zany again, just like before. “Mugman, hurry, he's gonna attack again!!” Mugman groaned as he yanked the other up, and once Cuphead was close enough, Cuphead grabbed onto the ledge with his free hand and helped pull himself up. “There you go! Whew!” Cuphead stood, spun his head around backwards and started firing, ready to dodge. Mugman tried to get up but felt a tug on his left arm that told him he couldn't. “Wha-?!” Mugman tried to pull himself up again but got the same result. He looked down to see what the problem was and saw two little cloud puffs had embodied themselves to grab onto Mugman's glove and pull his hand down into the cloud completely. “Oh no!! C-Cuphead, help me up, I'm stuck in the cloud!!” Cuphead gasped at that and spun his head forwards again to try and pull Mugman out. Grim fired out three more eye ripples at the brothers, and Cuphead tried to pull his brother out even harder. “Cuphead, watch out! Move!!” Cuphead suddenly threw himself over Mugman and let all three attacks slam against his back. The boy hissed in pain and wiped his eyes before looking back at Grim. He seemed to be getting farther and farther away. “Mug, you gotta start shootin' at him. I'll try and getchya out!” Mugman gulped but nodded with a serious expression. If they didn't do anything but dodge, they'd never be able to end the match. Cuphead wrapped his arms around Mugman's chest and pulled, as Mugman began to snap at Grim with his free hand.

The sound of a tinkling piano was heard as the green tip of a tail wiggled through the cloud-cover below, almost as if waving to the audience on the other side of the screen. Suddenly, the tail jut upwards towards the brothers which caused Cuphead to let go of the mug and launched Mugman into the air and onto another cloud above. “Oof!!” Mugman hissed in pain, feeling the bruise already forming on his belly as he slowly got up. “Well, at least I'm out...” He looked down at Cuphead, “hey! You can reach that cloud down there!” Mugman pointed. “Either he's flying backwards, or he's pushing the clouds back by making wind! Aim behind your head instead of turning it, it's too dangerous at this height!” “Gotchya!” Cuphead winked as he gave his brother the a-okay sign with his hand. Cuphead dashed off the cloud, then threw a Smoke Bomb to give him the extra boost he needed to reach the lower cloud Mugman pointed to.

Mugman pointed straight at Grim, and began to fire again, jumping onto another cloud close by in order to keep the dragon in sight. Mugman winced in pain as he landed, but he tried his best to push it aside like he'd always seen his little brother do. Cuphead bent his arm back behind his head, and began to shoot his Roundabouts again, watching his green bullets circle around and hit Grim. Thankfully, the dragon was big enough that aiming wasn't majorly important.

Grim watched as the children moved closer and began to suck in air. He pushed his tummy upwards, seemingly puffing out his chest as the brothers continued to hop from cloud to cloud, Mugman always trying to stay higher up, and just a tad further back. Grim suddenly released his attack, coughing out a large meteor at the boys as he threw his short arms down and to the sides, then he wasted no time in preparing another. The meteor snaked down, then back up before it would start to curve and fall back down again. Mugman stood his ground, not moving from the cloud he was on. He estimated that the dip and the rise of the meteor's path should have been equal to each other in height and that he should have been safe from where he was. Unfortunately for Cuphead, he'd already hopped in the air once the attack was launched and found himself in the path of the meteor! The child rolled his body forwards as he flipped, letting his legs stick out at an angle to try and make himself flatter to avoid crashing into the fiery rock. While Cuphead had successfully avoided slamming his whole body against the attack, the boy in red reached his left palm out towards the cloud to be able to land on his feet and scraped his elbow. “Ow!” Cuphead hissed, patting out the fire on his elbow as he stood. Something about that felt funny. It didn't feel like just a normal scrape, it felt different. Almost warm, but not at all in a pleasant way. Too warm. So warm, that it actually hurt. “What was...?” “Cuphead, incoming!” Mugman warned.

When Cuphead looked back at the dragon, he'd coughed out yet another meteor that sailed upwards first, unlike the one before. Cuphead got a running start, then jumped up onto another cloud above him, and Mugman didn't take long to join him. Cuphead held his left arm in pain. If Mugman wasn't standing right behind him, he'd be able to fire at him, but before Cuphead could tell Mugman to move, his older brother seemed to notice him holding his elbow. “You alright?” He asked, glancing down at Cuphead's elbow briefly, as he continued his fire. “'M fine, my elbow just...” Cuphead trailed off, not knowing the proper word to describe the way this felt. “Stings?” This caught Mugman's attention, but so did the next meteor Grim coughed out. “Hang on!” Mugman wrapped his left arm around Cuphead's waist and started running. “Move with me!” The brothers stepped off the cloud and let themselves drop onto another one close by. Mugman paused for a moment, waiting for the attack to move a little closer, then jumped directly into the trail of dark smoke the meteor left behind, and onto another puffy, white platform. “What'd you do?” Mugman asked as he kept an eye on Grim. “I scraped my elbow against one of the meteors, and now it kinda stings? But not really?” Mugman grabbed his little brother's injured elbow and brought it closer to his face as he continued firing. “Lemme see!” He looked down at Cuphead's elbow an immediately saw what Cuphead was talking about, thanks to the hole left by the fire on his shirt.

Cuphead's elbow was black and slightly charred. The cup burned himself. Dishware didn't get burned by the same things most people would, such as hot water, or hot food. Even brief contact with an open flame wouldn't feel as hot for them as it would for someone else. It took far more heat for a ceramic or metal being to feel pain than the average Joe, so neither of our heroes had experienced the burning sensation of touching a hot pan, or drinking hot cocoa before it's cooled. That was why Cuphead didn't know how to describe the pain he felt. “You just got a little burnt, it's nothing major.” Mugman informed, looking back at Grim now. “Burnt?” “When someth- shoot!!” Mugman grabbed his brother's right wrist and pulled him along as he jumped down onto a lower cloud. Cuphead hadn't even noticed Grim cough out another meteor. “When something's too hot for our bodies to withstand, it leaves a burn, which causes pain. But because we're made of ceramic designed for holding hot coffee or tea, most things won't burn us.” Mugman explained, moving in front of Cuphead as he continued his fire towards Grim. Neither one of them noticed the sound of the piano as the tail wriggled behind Cuphead. Mugman turned his head to finish his explanation as Cuphead finally began firing behind himself again. “Luckily for you, it's a minor burn, we can just wash off the soot with some dish soap and elbow grease late- Cuphead, hightail it outta there!!” Cuphead glanced behind him and rushed out of the way onto a lower cloud as Mugman jumped up to a higher one, just before the tail jut upwards.

Seeing that his meteors didn't seem to work, Grim switched tactics again and let his eyes go zany as he shot out four magic eye ripples, the fourth one being pink, just as before. Mugman saw the incoming attack, and squat down low to duck out of the way, but as the pink ring soared above him, he jumped back up to try and parry the magic, only to miss, and get hit in the face. “Ouch!!” Mugman tried to stay standing and stumbled back as a result. “Mugs, watch yer--” Cuphead knew it was too late. One wrong misstep and Mugman plunged off the cloud with a loud shriek, and with nothing but the carnival below to break his fall. Cuphead lunged forwards, as far as he could manage, and pushed Mugman and himself onto another fluffy cloud. “Mug!! You okay?!” Mugman sat up and held his right cheek as he hissed in pain. “Yeah. Ugh, I sh-shouldn't have tried to parry.” He let go of his face to see the crack that formed from the attack. “Ow! Thanks for the save.” The brothers quickly got up and moved closer to the dragon, both trying their hardest to build up their Super Meter and both so close to a full meter.

Once the brothers got close enough, Grim noticed the charred ceramic on Cuphead's elbow, and a pang of guilt shot through him. “D-d-d-did I burn you?” He asked meekly, trying not to sound half as guilty as he felt. “Wh- of course ya burnt me!! You shot giant fireballs of death at us!!” “Oh, I-I-I-I'm sorry!” “Wh- I- sorry?!” Cuphead seemingly spat back, but he spoke more out of disbelief rather than anger. “Don't m-m-m-misunderstand my flames – I just meant fun and games.” Grim admitted, although it was a bit of a lie to himself. It was the only way he could trick himself into attacking these kids. He wasn't actually fighting them, he'd tell himself, he was merely play-fighting. Grim pushed his thoughts to the side, and began to suck in air as he prepared another attack. “What flames?!” Cuphead asked. Grim paused, completely still for a few moments as he pretended to think.

After about one second, Grim answered. “Th-th-th-these flames!” He joked and coughed out two flaming meteors that weaved up and down in a crisscross pattern. “Ack!!” Cuphead jumped over the higher fireball and managed to roll onto another cloud safely, then looked back to watch Mugman. Mug looked around the sky to find a safe cloud between the two meteors, but the only cloud that was safe was the one directly across from him, which he would have to cross the path of the intertwining fireballs to reach. Mugman had no choice, however. He took a deep breath, got a running start, and lunged across the gap between him just as the meteors flew towards him. It was evident Mugman wouldn't make the jump before the attacks crossed. “Mugman!!” Cuphead cried. He couldn't see his brother anymore thanks to all the smoke from the meteors. However, it almost seemed like there was more smoke than usual.

Not seeing his brother made Cuphead's heart sink. He balled up his fists in anger and wiped away the dots of milk that tried to form in his eyes. “I ain't letting you get away with hurting Mugman!!” The child roared, not looking back at the dragon as he snapped faster, and more vigorously than he ever had in his life. He could hear the green bullets swivel around and hit Grim, and he could feel his Super Meter building now more than ever.

Suddenly, tiny blue bullets joined the barrage of attacks that hit the dragon from the cloud of smoke left behind. Cuphead instantly felt hope well up inside his very soul and he could just barely make out the sound of his brother's voice coughing.

As the smoke cleared, Mugman was waving the gray clouds away with his right hand as he shot at the dragon with his left. “Good gosh!” The mug hacked, “That literally blew up in my face.” “Mugman!!” “For future reference, the Smoke Bomb works better when you don't throw it at a flaming object that's two feet away from your face!” Cuphead sighed in relief, then turned back to look at Grim.

“Also, as an addition to what we were saying before, those don't count as flames! They're just rocks on fire!!” Cuphead shrieked back, the anger from before having completely dissipated. “Wait, th-th-th-they don't?” Grim asked. “Nuh-uh!” The cup huffed sternly. “Oh...Well...uhh...” Grim stammered, not changing his facial expression as he slowly slid backwards and off the screen.

Mugman quickly hopped from cloud to cloud, passing Cuphead as he tried to chase the seemingly fleeing dragon. “Where'd he go?!” “Cuphead, after him!” Mugman suddenly heard a whooshing sound from behind him, but he only managed to catch a glimpse of a scaly green tail. “Wait a minute!” As a large gust of wind continued to push the clouds forward, Mugman suddenly heard a fiery fwoosh from behind, and saw that something pink had rolled out below the clouds under them. The boy turned around and saw that Grim had lowered his head down behind Cuphead and him, and that he'd not only rolled out his tongue below, but he was also blowing out fire from his nostrils as he slowly flew closer to an oblivious Cuphead. “Cuphead, move!!” Mugman called, but it seemed his brother couldn't hear him. “Mugman, do you see where he went?!”

Eventually, Grim ran out of breath and had to stop breathing fire. He quickly took in a sharp breath to refresh the attack, but noticed the inattentive red child that stood on a cloud just above him. Regardless of what Grim was trying to do, the dragon didn't see it as very fair if he unexpectedly snorted fire at the boy with absolutely no warning.

Grim puffed out smoke from his nostrils with a deep whistling sound into the air above, and unfortunately right into Cuphead's face. “Ack!” Cuphead was blinded, and began to cough and hack aggressively as he tried to wave away the smoke. “M-Mugma--” The boy was cut off by his own choking. “I-I can't see!!” It was clear to Mugman that his brother didn't notice the approaching dragon behind him. Mugman swallowed the lump of anxiety in his metaphorical throat and dashed back from cloud to cloud to reach his little brother, only to freeze up when he got too close to the dragon for his liking. Mugs looked back to see if there was another cloud he could use as a safety net and looked back to Cuphead, holding out both his arms. “C-C-Cuphead!! J-jump forward!! Quickly!!” Cuphead still couldn't see anything, but his brother sounded close, so he jumped towards the sound of Mugman's voice, eyes still glued shut as he sailed into the air blindly.

Once he could finally breathe fresh air again, Cuphead managed to open his eyes as he started to fall. Mugman caught Cuphead in his arms, but at the price of stumbling and falling off the white puff. Luckily for the ceramic duo, Mugman managed to grab onto the edge of a cloud below, and swiftly swung his little brother up and over onto the cloud with impressive speed and agility. “Pull me up!!” Mugman called, firing back at Grim with his free hand. Mugman's feet dangled only mere inches above the dragon's tongue and he didn't like it one bit. Cuphead ran over to the other side of the cloud and bent over to help his brother up, having learned from Mug's mistake earlier. However, an orange fireball holding a large, burning matchstick in his left hand and wearing a blue shako on his head marched out from Grim's mouth with grit teeth, followed by another, grinning orange flame, then another, then another. Both the brothers realized that if Mug wasn't pulled up soon, he'd be burned by the Fireball Marchers. “Wuh-oh!!” “Hurry!!” Cuphead yanked his older up by his arm, then grabbed his shoulder to pull him up the rest of the way, just before the leader with the shako reached the cloud. “Let's get to higher ground!!” Mugman advised, able to feel the heat from the marching fire below. “We're in the air right now?!” Cuphead reminded. “Whatever! Higher clouds! You know what I mean!!”

The boys moved away from Grim, both doing their best to keep a constant fire upon the mighty dragon. “Cuphead, do you have enough for a Super?” Mugman asked. The younger cup looked over to his brother and nodded. “Should I use it now?” “No! Not yet!” Mugman glanced down at the clouds below them, then back at the clouds behind them. “The strong wind's pushing the clouds towards Grim, if you try to use it now, you're bound to wind up with nothing under you to land on!” Mugman looked back at the dragon, keeping his line of fire on him as he thought. “The first Super lasts about three seconds before you drop back down.” Cuphead did his best to stay close to his brother, so that he could be ready whenever he gave him the signal, all while keeping his aim ahead to hit Grim. “But it'll be hard to judge the distance a cloud will be in that time while fighting like this...” This put the mug in a tough spot, using the Super in this type of field was risky, but they wouldn't last long simply chipping away at the dragon with their weaker attacks. If Mugman made a mistake, his brother would fall onto the Fireball Marchers below and get hurt. “Mugs...” Cuphead grumbled, growing impatient. “Alright. I'll keep an eye on the incoming cloud formations and try to time it so you have something to land on without getting burned again. In case I botch it up, I'll try and stay as close as I can so you don't fall.” “Wah? Mug, what if I accidentally hit you?” Cuphead voiced. “You won't, I promise. I'm only staying close by as a safety precaution! There's no harm in playing it safe.” “Right.” Cuphead nodded. “Once you finish the attack, switch to your new short ranged weapon, and try and stay within range, but not too close!” “Golly! Great thinkin' Mug!!” Cuphead agreed, and just like that, the plan was underway.

However, that was just when one of the Fireball Marchers suddenly made a noise, and broke the formation on the tongue. Mugman noticed the new sound and looked back to see the rouge fireball suddenly leap towards the two of them! “Woah!” Mugman suddenly pulled his brother back by his shirt, “jump, Cup,” and hopped up to another, higher cloud. “Wait!” Cuphead saw that the fireball could still reach them from their new height, and pushed his brother forward, forcing the mug to stumble two steps forward out of harm's way. As the younger cup jumped up, he let the marcher sail under him and into the cloud-cover below. “Good catch,” Mugman said, looking back with a thumbs up. “Ah! Wait!” Mugman rushed behind Cuphead then began to fire at Grim again. “Use it now!!”

Cuphead quickly pulled out the Super Coin from the depths of his pocket and flicked it into his head with his thumb in one, swift motion. He could feel the built-up magical energy grow stronger inside his body before the child let instinct take over. Cuphead jumped up in the air, lifted one leg up, and cracked a wide, confident grin as he aimed his head right at the dragon. “Take a sip a this, lizard-breath!!” He cried, then launched out the milk in his head with a mighty blast! Grim visibly tensed up at the attack upon impact and he let a loud yelp of pain escape his throat by mistake.

True to his word, Mugman moved along the traveling clouds and stayed close to his brother. As Cuphead began to fall back down, he just barely managed to land on the edge of a cloud below, with the help of Mugman, who grabbed his shoulder when he started to wobble forwards. Just as planned, Cuphead switched his weapon when he landed, and the next time he snapped, a small, lavender ball catapulted from his fingertip and crashed onto Grim's snout with a plop! “Auh!” Grim choked out as he flinched again. “This is working...” Mugman gasped softly, ��keep on 'im, Cup!”

Suddenly, the brothers heard the strange, whiney sort of groan again and looked down to see another Fireball Marcher crouched down and facing the left, towards Grim. “Cuphe-!” “Already on it!” As the fireball lunged towards the ceramic duo, Cuphead took a short hop forwards and onto a lower cloud, closer to the dragon, before quickly jumping back onto the previous cloud once the flame had begun to sail towards him for a second time. At the same time, Mugman leaped and flipped backwards onto a lower cloud that was closer to the tongue than he'd like. “Ah!” He hissed, feeling the heat from the fire below. Mugman loved warm drinks and blankets next to a toasty, cozy fire, but this was too hot, even for him. It wasn't painful, but the fact that he could easily be burned scared him. The boy glanced back to find another fluffy platform, hopped onto the higher one behind him, and started firing again. “Cuphead, keep a safe distance!! I'll hang back!” Cuphead mentally acknowledged his brother's plan, but was too absorbed in the battle to physically show him, other than by getting some distance from the approaching dragon by hopping onto another cloud. “Try to stay higher up!” Mugman warned before he suddenly felt a drop land right on his nose. “Hnn?”

Cuphead had heard Mugman's strategy and glanced behind to try and find a higher platform, when he heard another matchstick marcher ready up for another attack. Cups glimpsed down below and saw this one facing the right, away from Grim, and towards Mugs! “Mug, watch out!!” “Ha?” Mugman saw the Fireball Marcher jump up and gasped as he quickly pulled out the new Super Coin. As Mug flicked the coin with his thumb, he jumped back and caught the enchanted charm in his head.

All at once, the boy could feel the magical energy from his Super Meter and the magic he dropped in his soul combine and increase dramatically. As if instinct took control, Mugman jumped up and crossed his arms below him in a circular motion as he tucked his knees into his chest. His soul, fueled by the magic, projected the illusion of his head, grinning despite appearing to be on the brink of death as indicated by the hollowed-out, black eyes. His head suddenly laughed in a deep voice, one that clearly wasn't Mugman's. “Ha ha ha!” The mug suddenly leaped out from the mouth of the illusion before it shrunk away with a few, large drops of milk, but rather than the typical blue appearance, Mugman was gold, and he glimmered and glowed so brightly, he almost looked transparent. Or perhaps he was transparent. “Woah! This is...I feel great! Fantastic! Ha ha!” He laughed confidently, oblivious to the other marcher that suddenly lunged at him. “Eek!” Mugman expected to get rammed and burned by the flame, but the fireball merely passed right through his body. “Good gosh! This sure is swell!!” Now Mugman was brimming with confidence, knowing that nothing could touch him. The child fought without fear.

Mugman dropped to a lower cloud, still keeping his distance from Grim, but not worried about the fire below. Mugman quickly began to fight recklessly, oblivious to the fading shimmer and how his body flashed between his normal and golden state. He heard another Fireball Marcher prepare for another leap, but when Mugman saw that he was facing him rather than Cuphead, he only scoffed. “Take your best shot at me, sucker!!” He taunted with confidence, just as his body ceased its flashing form and reverted back to its normal state.

The fiery marcher launched at Mugman and not only violently crashed into him, which caused the screen to shake, but also left a large, painful burn on his chest. “Ow! Ouch! Ow! Get it off, put it out! Ow!!” He shrieked, prompting Cuphead to look back. Mugman was laying flat with his stomach on the cloud, shirt and gloves still steaming and sizzling from when he presumably pushed the Fireball Marcher off and put out the fire it started on his shirt. “Mugman!” Cuphead rushed over to his brother and helped him back up to his feet again. “Are you alright?! What happened to your invincibility?!” “Owww.” Mug whimpered. “Y-you tell me.” He hissed as he held the burns on his chest. “I-I didn't realize that had such a short time-limit!” “Mugs...” “D-don't worry about me! Ow. We need to knock this guy out! Pronto! Focus on attacking him!” Mugman tried as he leaned onto Cuphead for support. It hurt so much just for him to stand, but they had to press forward. “Mug, yer hurt!” “I know, but we can't back down now! We'll worry about me later, but for now, we need to take this guy down! The longer we're fighting, the worse off we are!” Mugs groaned. Cuphead begrudgingly nodded. “Right.” He made sure his older brother was able to stand and got closer to the dragon again.

Mugman hopped up, wincing in pain as he moved, and focused his shots on Grim as he watched his little brother. Despite being hurt himself, Cuphead didn't let it bother him in the slightest. Meanwhile, Mugman was severely slowing down due to the pain, and would always take a precautious jump back whenever he saw the Fireball Marchers get ready to pounce. The burns to his chest certainly did no favors to the bruise that he got earlier, and all this moving around was making the crack on his cheek throb in pain. Mugman felt another drop on the right side of his rim, this time it rolled down and traced along the crack in his face, which earned another pained hiss from the boy. Elder Kettle didn't say anything about rain before they left, did he? Or maybe it was just dragon slobber?

“Kablooey!” Cuphead called as he expelled the built-up magical energy from his body out both his fists. As he fired the new Ex Move, a larger, lavender ball launched out and onto Grim's lower jaw, splashing all over his face.“ Owie!!” Grim yelped. “Why ca't you hoo husth g-g-g-githe uh ahleahy?!” The dragon questioned, wishing the children would just admit defeat and go home! “Over my empty head!!” Cuphead retaliated, just as the wind drastically picked up. The boy snapped his fingers once again and the lavender bullet catapulted forwards and smacked Grim right between the wings, then bounced off and hit the back of his neck, just behind the head.

The dragon shrieked in pain. The attack was just enough to trigger a reflex in his wings that caused them to freeze up and stop moving. Grim's eyes bulged out of his head as his body involuntarily shuddered. The dragon rolled his tongue back into his mouth as he glided across the sky, motionless for a few moments. The sky suddenly grew very dark as black clouds rolled in from seemingly nowhere. Rain quickly began to pour down over the three debtors, soaking them all within seconds.

Grim suddenly reared his neck upwards as the clouds darkened his form into nothing more but a large silhouette. There were three voices, each making a different sound. One laughed, another made a silly, warbly, babbling sound, and the last timidly wooed as if mimicking a ghost. “What was...?” Mugman asked, looking up at the silhouette in fear. A head rose up to look Cuphead right in the eyes. “One...” It said before another head on the left side rose up next to the other. “Two...” It taunted, before a third head arose on the far right, grinning maniacally at the cup with an insane look in his eyes. “Three!” Suddenly, the three heads closed in on the boy, forcing Cuphead to take a step back. “You'd b-b-b-etter flee! Brawrahahahah!” The hydra taunted, just as a loud crack of thunder crashed throughout the sky. “Cuphead, back away!!” Mugman warned, and Cuphead didn't at all hesitate.

However, Cuphead surprised Mugman with how far back he retreated. Cup pulled out a Smoke Bomb and dashed as far back as he could, then turned on his heel and lunged across at least four more clouds before he stopped behind his brother. Although Mugman didn't think much of this, he glanced behind at his brother for a moment as he observed Grim in his new form. “Good thinking, Cups. We don't know what this fella's capable of now. We should hang back and watch how he fights!” Mugman informed as he kept a line of fire.

The trio of hydra heads juggled themselves up and down in a way that seemed complex but was a fairly simple pattern. The outer two heads quickly spat out a goopy-looking fire cluster into the air, followed by another and another. At first, Mugman thought these would be easy to dodge if they only kept a safe distance, but one stray bullet from the Peashooter, and a cluster exploded in four different directions, one of course, that headed straight for our heroes.

Mugman flipped forward to dodge, then looked back to make sure Cuphead was safe. “Cuphead!” He called over the thunder and lightning. “Switch your weapon and focus on dodging if you accidentally hit one of those attacks!” Cuphead looked up at Mugman stiffly. “Focus on building up a Super, and end it quickly!!” A soft groan escaped from the older brother. “Hurry!” Mugman turned back to focus on their new strategy.

However, Cuphead couldn't hear what his brother had said at all over the rain, wind, and thunder. The child wasn't focused on the battle at hand at all anymore. Rather, Cuphead looked all around at their surroundings. A large, three-headed, fire-breathing dragon in front of them, gray and black clouds as far as the eye could see, trapped Heaven knows how high up from the world below. Another strike of lightning caused the child to tremble as the rainwater collected in his and his brother's head and overflowed, spilling down the sides. As high up and as soaked as they were, they were bound to be struck by nature's cruel electricity. Cuphead hardly moved aside from his own shaking, not that he could hear himself clinking over the sudden and violent storm. The boy watched his brother as he fought the dragon, unable to move from the one spot on the cloud as tears began to well up in his eyes. A soft hiccup escaped the child as his heart pounded against his chest. A sudden bolt of lightning lunged dangerously close to his brother's head, and the child nearly screamed, but his voice seemed to catch in his throat and turn into a mix between a sob and a cough. “M-Mugs!” Cuphead whimpered softly, sniffling as he shook violently, paralyzed with fear.

Mugman continued to shoot at the hydra as he made sure to watch out for the fire clusters to avoid hitting them. After a short while, however, Mugman noticed that Grim's center head took a deep breath, and knew he was preparing something. He turned back to warn Cuphead, only to hear his little brother suddenly start wailing loudly as soon as another, deafening clap of thunder echoed throughout Inkwell. “Cuphead?!” It had become too much for the child to bare all at once. Cuphead had his face raised to the sky as he wailed and sobbed in fear, terrified. Terrified that he was going to be electrocuted by the lightning. Terrified that his brother was going to be electrocuted by the lightning.

Mugman quickly looked back at Grim, then rushed over to his baby brother as fast as he could. The second he wrapped an arm around Cuphead, his little brother suddenly clung to him for dear life, sobbing and screaming into his chest. Before Mugman would even attempt to try and calm his beloved little Sippy Cup down however, he rushed up and lunged them both onto a higher cloud, and not a moment too soon.

Grim's center head morphed into a large, red flamethrower, and unleashed a massive beam of fire onto where the brothers once stood. He breathed in again and attempted to burn the brothers once more, but he hadn't seemed to notice they had moved. “Hey, g-g-g-genius! They moved up th-th-th-there! The angry-looking head on the right bickered. “W-w-w-well I didn't n-n-n-notice that!!” The center head defended. “And n-n-n-now's not the time t-t-t-to be arguing!” “Right! W-w-w-we need to defend our s-s-s-soul!!” The one on the far left agreed gleefully with a nod. “L-l-l-let's go!” They all cheered.

“Cuphead, what's wrong?” Mugman asked, keeping his little brother close as he pushed him against his aching chest. Cuphead managed to blubber something out, but it was far too distressed for Mugman to be able to make anything out. Another crashing boom of lightning and Cuphead whimpered as he hugged his brother tighter. “A-ah! N-not so tight!!” Mug hissed in pain, but now he understood.

Cuphead had been absolutely terrified of lightening ever since he was six. The three of them had gone to see a movie for Cuphead's birthday, and in the grand finale, the antagonist had been violently and graphically struck by lightning. The child had been terrified of getting electrocuted ever since. When they were kids, Mugman would always have to hold Cuphead close and stay with him until the storm either passed, or Cuphead fell asleep. However, Cuphead stopped waking him up in recent years, Mugman thought he'd been sleeping right through the storms and just assumed he'd gotten over his fear. He must have thought wrong.

Mugman looked back at their foe, grit teeth and a grave expression lining his face. This was a fine time for him to find this out. He knew he wasn't going to get Cuphead to do much more fighting, but if he'd tried to tell him to sit it out anywhere, his brother would not only still be terrified, but at risk of getting hit. No matter where Cuphead moved to, he'd always be in the way. He had to think of something, and quick. “I-it's okay, Sippy Cup, don't panic, alright?” Mugman hoped that the nickname would at least soothe him in some way. “Y-yer gonna be alright, alright? Just...” Mugs began to fire at Grim once more with his free hand and held on tighter to his brother with the arm he had wrapped around him as he continued to move towards him. “Hang on tight!” Mugman braced himself for the remaining battle ahead and for his brother to increase his grip over his injuries.

Mugman rushed just a little closer to Grim and attempted to build up enough of his Super Meter to at least use some Ex Moves, all while carrying his caterwauling mess of a baby brother. The crying child wasn't about to go unnoticed by Grim, however. “Wh-wh-wh-what's wrong with him?! I-i-i-is he hurt?!” The center head asked, quite clearly very concerned. “Wh-wh-wh-what's it matter to you?!” The right head barked. “H-h-h-he's not important, we are!!” The left head tried to remind. “He is a m-m-m-mere child!!” The center head argued as he glared at his other two heads. “He is trying to t-t-t-take our soul!!” The left head scolded. “We have every r-r-r-right to kill them both!!” The right head growled before he suddenly nipped at the mugs. “S-s-s-stop that! C-c-c-can't you see there's something wrong?!” Their arguing suddenly gave Mugman an idea, but he'd have to get dangerously close.

Mugman briefly stopped his firing to yank a cloud out of the sky and throw it closer to the hydra on the left side. Mugs continued his fire once more and jumped over onto the cloud he just smacked back into place and shot at the farthest head from beside the outer right head. “Hey ugly!! Fix yer aim, I-I'm right here!!” He taunted, which prompted a snarl from the angry head. “D-d-d-don't make him even madder, k-k-k-kid!!” The center head warned, but it was too late. The right head suddenly spat out multiple fire clusters at the boys, which Mugman promptly shot before he jumped off to another cloud.

The clusters split apart and hit the two other heads, who both yelped in pain before glaring daggers at the offending head. “Smooth m-m-m-move!!” The left one growled. “E-e-e-even I w-w-w-wouldn't have fallen for that!” “Sh-sh-sh-shut up! Y-y-y-you don't even want to defend the fate of y-y-y-your very soul, a-a-a-and you're upset at me?!” Suddenly, the left head spat out two other fire clusters at the right head, which Mugman quickly shot so that they'd hit all three heads again. “Oh, now look who's the g-g-g-genius!” “G-g-g-guys, we need to stop arguing!” “L-l-l-look, wise guy! If you think f-f-f-fer a second that I'm going to l-l-l-let you get away with a-a-a-attacking myself like that--” “Well at least I d-d-d-didn't do it on purpose!!” Suddenly, the right head lunged forward and bit the left most neck beside it, resulting in the left head to retaliate by chomping down on the right one's cranium. “Ouch!! Stop f-f-f-fighting with yourselves!!” The center head begged, but it was too late.

Mugman seized the opportunity and began firing once again while they were distracted. Thankfully, Mugman's plan had worked, and they were distracted enough by themselves that they hadn't noticed him shooting. Right now, it wasn't about beating the hydra, or doing massive amounts of damage to him. This was about building up his Super Meter, ending this, and calming his brother down. This was about survival. “G-g-g-guys, p-p-p-please! Stop f-f-f-fighting!!” The center continued. Mugman got up closer to the center and hoped that he could do this with just one hand. He had just over enough for one attack, and Mug knew the heads couldn't stay distracted for long! Upon seeing the boy, the center head glanced between the two, still arguing, heads and Mugman, practically cradling his shaking brother with one arm. The same boy who'd been shaking in his presence just moments earlier. Grim had to commend the boy for his bravery, but knew he still had to stand his ground. He puffed out a sigh, then took a deep breath, preparing his flames. “Please work...” Mugman begged to himself. He glanced over at Cuphead and, in an attempt to try and calm him down, he decided to use the whole 'signature move' baloney that Cuphead had been begging him to do. Mugman took a deep breath and concentrated the magical energy built up in his body out his right fist. “Mega Blast!” He jut his hand out forward, but the magic gave a blue spark in both hands for a brief moment, then fizzled out. Mugman internally panicked and promptly tried again, knowing this was his only chance. “Mega Blast!!” Once again, the magic sparked, but fizzled out. If he let go of Cuphead, he could fall. If he didn't try something, they'd be burnt to a porcelain crisp. Mugman took one last deep breath and focused entirely on his magic and the target. He balled up his fists as he unintentionally shot a glare at the dragon, then threw out his fist one last time.“Mega Blast!!”

Finally, the magic shot out one fist and collided into the hydra with a great force. The two outer heads drooped down with 'X's in their eyes, the one on the left side's cheeks puffed up as his tongue hung out haphazardly from his mouth. The center head snapped back, 'X's also in his eyes, before his head tilted down slightly. “Yes!! Oh! Oh! Oh dear mercy yes!!” Mugman shouted in utter relief, but it wasn't over yet.

Mugman held onto his brother as he leaped onto the hydra's back and scoured under his wings. Before long, Mugman found the contract and checked it, but before he could get off Grim's back, he suddenly felt overwhelmingly dizzy and unbalanced. Mugman's world suddenly began to spin and he clung onto the reptile's back for dear life just before the dragon lurched forward without warning and back into the tower, away from the storm.

Grim lowered a wing down for the brothers to climb off once they were inside. “H-h-h-here.” He murmured softly. Mugman was a little confused, but he took the offer and gently climbed down onto the stone, both he and his little brother dripping wet. “I-I-I-I'd offer you a-” Grim cut himself off with a slight hiss of pain. “A towel, b-b-b-but you'll just get soaked as soon as you s-s-s-step outside again.” Grim had changed back to normal now, with only one head visible, but the dragon was still covered in wounds and bandages from their battle. “Y-you're...? Not mad?” The dragon shook his head. “No.” He looked down at the pair with a somber expression and a sigh. “What's done i-i-i-is done. A-a-a-and you earned that f-f-f-fair and square.” Grim fell down onto the stone floor with a huff, just to rest his injured body. “Holy s-s-s-smokes...you two certainly didn't hold anything b-b-b-back...” A pang of guilt shot through Mugman. “W-we're sorry.” “D-d-d-don't be...I just hope...th-th-th-that whatever happens...It h-h-h-happens for the best.” Grim looked up at our heroes. “You two should g-g-g-get going.” “Right.” Mugman nodded, his dizzy spell having passed, “come on, Cups...” Cuphead whined and sniveled quietly into his brother's chest, still terribly frightened from the violent storm just outside.

As Mugman carried his little brother back down the stone stairway, he rubbed the child's back soothingly. “I didn't realize you were still so scared of lightning...” Cuphead only whined in response. “I'm sorry. If I'd known, I would have tried to do something sooner.” Cuphead sniffled a few times, and Mugman sighed, rubbing the base of Cuphead's handle with his thumb a bit. “I...” Mugman looked over at Cup as he spoke, giving his baby brother his full attention. “I w-was tryin' ta be b-brave a-and...” The boy was cut off by another hiccup before he dove back into his brother's chest. “Aww, Sippy Cup...” Mugman hushed. “You don't have to worry about being brave around me when something scares you that bad.” Cuphead mumbled something into Mugman's shoulder that sounded just a bit like 'I don't?' “Of course not. You're already one tough cup. The toughest cup I know, alright? But you can't always be tough like that. And that's okay...Because you have a big brother like me to help you out when things get too scary and tough.” Mugman continued to rub circles into Cuphead's back as the two descended down the stairs. “After all, you're always here for me when I'm scared. So it's only fair that I'll be there for you when you're scared. Okay?” Cuphead turned his head to breathe a little better, still leaning his head against Mugman's chest. He sniffled a few times, wiped his eyes and nose, then pulled his brother into a hug. “...mokay...” The child mumbled.

Missed the past episodes? Want to check for the next one? Here’s a link to the list of episodes currently published!

#Cuphead and Mugman: Don't Deal with the Devil #Word on the Wind! {Rebloggable Content}#Cuphead: Don't Deal with the Devil #Cuphead #Mugman #Grim Matchstick #Rewriting #Drabble #Fanfiction #Fanfic

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lokh · 6 years ago

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i told myself i would draw more backgrounds.......... its tough, but im doin it.....

its that anime episode where they gotta go to some fancy ball cos theyre there 2 protect somethin and they get to dress all nice?? august is here caught by surprise. meanwhile, someone has spotted the buffet table, and someone else is gonna get in a lot of trouble if they dont wake up and start watching their companion.....

get exclusive content of these folks and More at my patreon!

ko-fi // commissions

#i dunno what im doing anymore!!!#art #ocs #shit trope disaster anime

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loverofpiggies · 6 years ago

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My favorite thing, is when you can meet back up with an ex after a break up and everything is super cool and yall still friends and everything is great

In other news, today is the 9 hour drive back home! I’m driving with an (unrelated to the first half of this post) awesome friend, listening to Adventure Zone, and seeing another part of Utah I’ve never seen before! As tiring as this job is, traveling from convention to convention.... I don’t think I’d trade it for the world. Though I DO wish I could rest more often, or at least do comics more then I do now. ^^ I’d love to update Gloomverse 3 times a week, but that’s pretty physically impossible without my Patreon doin better. It’s not a bad thing, it is what it is, you know? Like. I love my Patreon discord and my streams are super chill, and its still pretty dang successful, just not enough to rely on almost completely, so conventions come into play! Conventions just take so much more time, poster designs, travel, careful balancing of finances, buying merch, ect ect- there are some weeks I don’t draw comics at all, cuz I gotta get con stuff ready!

But- it’s also not a bad thing, conventions are fun and I meet so many friends along the way, and the amazing fans and readers who like what I do, meeting yall in person is the best thing. Like I love doing cons and I love doing Patreon, it’s just all a balance!

Moving to Colorado is going to be nice tho, I’ll have roommates so I won’t become TOO much of a hermit, and be able to save money, and I’d be living in one of the most beautiful places in the United States. I’m going skiing for the first time in my life this winter!! AHH that’s so cool! I’m very excited!

Before I move, I have a cruise in a few weeks too, and like I’ve barely been able to focus or remember that’s happening. Like I saved up to go on the first cruise of my life and I keep forgetting it’s gonna be at the end of this month! I even saved up for my mom to go. Everything just keeps happening, like boom boom! Right after one another. After I move at the end of October, once my last con is done (Tuscon Comic Con!) I can’t really rest then either- gotta fly back home for Thanksgiving.

I do want a break, a lil one. December I have totally off of cons, but I’m flying up to Chicago to visit my grandma, I haven’t seen her in years. So it seems like I’ll be traveling every month up untilllllllll. Next July. Whew that sounds exhausting.

I gotta start cutting some cons out, but I also can’t, cuz finances. OH, and in between all this I’m trying to set up a kickstarter in February. Ah haha.

This is the busiest I’ve ever been in my life I tell u what.

Like I said I LOVE my life, I super duper do, but sometimes I want to just, stay at home for like a month. Get other sorts of work done. Or even like, not work on things for a lil while. Like, lay around, or do somethin else. Learn a buncha new songs on my ukulele, that sorta thing.

Anywho! I felt like rambling about my train of thought for the day.

#cqchat #ramblings I suppose #lost post

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fattlestacks · 6 years ago

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What’s Up, Jaymz?

How’re y’all doin’? I’m feeling chatty I guess, so... I’m gonna blather about what I’ve been up to...

I’ve been replaying Stardew Valley all week, sorta hoping I’d be hit with some inspiration to draw somethin’ but I haven’t really gotten any ideas. The only sorta thing I thought of was it might be cute to draw Sebby & Sam as kids. I HC them as being childhood friends and also that they both dye their hair now so it’d be a little ginger Sebby and a brunette Sam. I also like the thought of Sebby being a chubby kid, which would explain a little about why he seems so neurotic about gaining weight as an adult. Alas, I haven’t thought of what exactly I’d wanna draw them doing, but I guess that’s something.

I’m currently working on the first story about my twins Carter and Cooper. I’m doing some illustrations for it, still feeling a little nervous about it as I probably do whenever I introduce a new story with characters y’all haven’t seen much of yet. The story is just a short one, there is of course some discussion of chubbiness as there always is in my work... I’m really hoping people enjoy it. I didn’t get as much work done this week as I would’ve liked, so I hope I get the illustrations finished and posted for my patrons next week.

I drew a little Karabita and Baby K sequence, just a cute one for fun. It’s up on Patreon now but should be available publicly in a day or two. I’d like to draw some more chubby NEETs of course. I really wish I could watch the Osomatsu San movie. There’s still been no news about when it will be subbed and released in the states. I’ve been trying my best to avoid spoilers... :S

I have to start on Patreon commissions next week so I’m going to hold off on opening more commission slots until maybe the week after. If you’ve been wanting to get one, please keep an eye out for my commission posts. There are a lot of people who contact me regarding commissions when they are closed and I don’t keep a list so you really gotta contact me when you see there are slots available. Thanks, everyone!

Anyway, that’s about it for now. What are you all doing this week? Up to anything fun?

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osmw1 · 6 years ago

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Dimension Wave Chapter 3—Altorese, the Merchant

“Heh heh…”

It’s been 10 minutes since then. I sold all the scales, bones, and fish meat I had and bought another fishing rod before returning to my spot. I also bought some bait this time. As a result, I have only 65 serin left in my pockets.

In any case, I am definitely going to eat that fish. I’m the type of guy to hold a grudge. Like how I always play fighting games with Tsugumi, who’s really into them. Unfortunately, though, she beats me more than I do her. She’s nothing short of a prodigy at fighting games, even though her best genre is first-person shooter.

I know it must look real weird to see a girl laughing to herself. I’m self-aware. But I don’t care. I am absolutely going to catch you. I think I’ve found my calling in this world. It might be a little lame, but I guess I’ll continue to silently fish alone here.

“Alright, let’s try out the bait.”

I bait the previously bare hook. I don’t have any worms, but instead boilies. I gotta put up with the cheapest stuff they have. I would’ve bought something better if only I had the money to. They had fishing lures for sale too, so I’m guessing there are lakes nearby. I cast my rod and concentrate on its tip. I’d love to gaze at the clouds, but I don’t have the time for that!

“Gotcha!”

—Horse Mackerel obtained.

It feels like they’re biting more because of the bait. There can’t really be fish that stupid to go for a hook with nothing on it. I have 30 boilies in my inventory. I’ll have to get more at the general store once I’m out. But the moment when the fish bit, I felt something that I’ve never felt before. Maybe it’s something part of the game that I haven’t noticed before. Or maybe even it was just my imagination. In any case, I’ll keep that feeling in my mind. If it has anything to do with what gets caught or the quality of the fish, it’d be a big catch.

Oh, and there’s definitely a quality aspect. When I was selling my items at the shop, they were all priced differently. They were all small fry so they didn’t sell for a whole lot, but smaller ones varied about 1–3 serin while the bigger ones varied 10–30. Once I get Energy Production III, I’ll get Fishing Mastery as well.

“Another one…”

I wait a little longer this time. It really isn’t just my imagination. There’s an indescribable aura or ebb and flow radiating from my rod. Maybe it’s something to do with when I should strike. The tug gets harder and softer, but it’s a short amount of time when it tugs hard.

“And now!”

—Sardine obtained.

It may be a sardine, but it’s the biggest and freshest one I’ve caught yet. It’s likely that it’s determined when the fish is being caught. This kind of system really fires me up.

“Oh?”

I’ve got a bite, but I can tell by the bend in my rod, it’s not as strong as The Big One. … or maybe my rod is just too shoddy and just doesn’t perform well enough. It’d be a waste if it gets away. As I did before, I wait for a strong tug before I strike.

—Killerfish obtained.

… huh. All of a sudden, I get the feeling that it’s a monster. I’ve only caught herrings and sardines up ‘til now. They’re all fish that exist in the real world, so they feel different than this guy. Furthermore, upon placing Mr. Killerfish in my inventory, it starts mashing its pointy teeth. That’s definitely a monster, alright.

I guess even monsters spawn in places like this. At least I have a better grasp on things now. I keep on fishing.

In the end, I managed to catch 26 out of the 30 bites I had. Four of them got away when I was trying to get a feel for their pull. I think each fish is different in the amount of time I have before they flee. What I caught totaled to 14 herrings, six sardines, three horse mackerels, one killerfish, and two bonefish. There’s no way those last two aren’t monsters.

As its name suggests, the bonefish is just like a skeleton. I was pretty shocked when I first saw it. It’s kinda eerie how nothing but bones can live under the sea.

“Now then, let’s gut and trim them all, save for a single herring.”

There’s something I want to test out. I want to see whether selling the fish whole or trimmed earns more. Still, the money doesn’t matter all too much since I need to get that gutting skill anyway. With that, I carefully point my Novice Gutting Knife towards my spoils.

“I sure am hungry…”

I got stuck for hours in an endless loop of fishing → trimming → selling → buying bait → fishing. I found out that selling trimmed fish nets more cash too and I bought better bait with the extra money. What I should do now is focus on catching 100 or more fish to upgrade Fishing Mastery to rank II. But first thing’s first—I have to upgrade my Energy Production.

I was so absorbed in fishing that I forgot to eat. They call it the Second Life Project, so there’s gotta be a hunger element in the game. I’m so hungry that it feels like I haven’t eaten the whole day.

“… what to eat?”

Luckily, I have a bit more money than before. I’m not sure how expensive restaurants, but since this is the starting town, it shouldn’t be too expensive. I put away my fishing rod, leave my fishing spot on the bridge, and head down to the middle of Lurolona. The fish is still in my inventory, but they can wait. I want to eat, and I want to eat now.

“Ooh.”

I followed the road to the plaza where we spawned. There’s not as many people here now as before, but there’s still 10 or 20 people hanging out. Among the people are a Human and a Jewel trading items. Not even a day has passed and the guy has already established a business? I casually walk closer to them and listen in.

“Five pieces of copper will be 375 serin.” “Thanks. The shops are selling it for so much more.”

They’re both in novice gear so it’s hard to tell, but it seems like one of them is a merchant and the other a blacksmith.

“Little lady over there!”

The moment they finish trading, the merchant walks over to me. What’s up with him? I look behind me. What girl?

“Yes, you.” “You talkin’ to me or somethin’?” “Yeah. Not much of a lady though, eh?”

Oh, yeah. I’m playing as a girl right now. It was super weird at first, but I quickly got used to my voice and I totally forgot about it.

“No, uhh, stuff happened and now my character’s a girl.” “I see.”

The merchant is quite the pretty boy type. He’s taller than me. Well, at my height right now, I can’t tell exactly how tall people are anymore. In any case, I look up to see his bright blond hair.

“So? Something you needed?” “You smelled like the sea, so I was just wondering if you had any fish or seafood on you.” “Oh. Do I smell?”

I take a whiff of myself, but I can’t really tell. I did fall into the sea once, so it wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I did.

“It seems like it. I went over to the plains once and it smelled like grass over there.” “Huh…”

I thought it was just the sea spray that smelled. How complex. It really is a big budget game.

“Anyway, do you have any fish or shellfish? I have an acquaintance who’s trying to level up her cooking skill, so I’ll buy it off you at a higher price than what the stores can give you.” “Hrm…”

I placed my right hand by my chin as I pondered. I haven’t processed any of the fish yet, so I have about 50 of them stored in my inventory. Well, it’s mostly herrings, sardines, and horse mackerels though. But since I still haven’t got the skill yet, I’d like to gut them all before I sell them.

“Sorry, but I need them too. Maybe next time though.” “Is that right? My name is Alto, though you’d find me as Altorese in chat. Though it didn’t work out this time, I’ll buy anything and everything.” “Gotcha. I’ll keep it in mind. But you’re already trading so early?” “Yeah, pretty much. I buy low from people in the frontlines and sell for cheaper than store prices for people who want things. Then, I’ll go and sell potions high to the people fighting. I’ve made 8,000 serin already like this.” “Impressive. You really are a merchant.”

Speaking of which, I have 2,700 serin. If I were to sell all the fish I have on me right now and buy some bait, I should have about 4,500 left. But still, it’s incredible how the merchant made 8,000 serin just by trading.

“Hahaha. Visit Altorese’s Emporium for all your needs! Just kidding.” “In that case, sell me a good fishing rod, if you have one on hand.” “A fishing rod? That’s a tool. If you have the materials, then it can be made. Shall I introduce you to an acquaintance of mine?” “Oh, could you?” “Of course! Only if you promise that you’ll buy any materials you need from me.”

What a silver tongue on him. It’s funny how he’s exactly like how a merchant would be. Some people really do role-play in an RPG.

“Alright then, please.” “Thank you for your patronage.”

Even his words are merchant-like. How refreshing. He might just be working in customer service in real life.

“Okay, I’ll contact you when I get news.” “Ah, hold on. I’ve something I’d like to ask.”

Alto looks at me with a quizzical look. Being so caught up in chatting, I had almost forgotten about it until the end.

“Where can I find a restaurant?”

previously: /prologue/ /ch001/ /ch002/ /ch003/ /next/

(please support me on Patreon or Paypal)

(check out the other title I’m translating—written by the same author!)

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titleknown · 6 years ago

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Well, first off, the Box People. They're kinda like pigeons if ya look at 'em the right way. They ain't too scary if you leave 'em alone, they're just kinda... there. Just these weird hands pokin out of boxes and eyes, lookin out. It's all kindsa hands too. Ghoul hands, lizard hands, shadow hands, you know the drill.

I saw a lot of 'em when I was plannin out the route of this city. They just lookit ya, sometimes shuffle along. I looked up the places I saw 'em at, for funzies, and holy shit there's a lot o dead homeless around those parts. By neglect, and the other ways. The other ways that I try to punch in the face before they do it. Like, I do what I can to protect 'em, but, starfish and seashores and all that crap.

But, they're there and they're harmless if you are too. But the gentrification fuckers, the ones who do jack shit for the neighborhood except bring up the rents, and call 311 on your fuckin neighbors like dipshits and you gotta tell 'em “Hey, lay off with the 311 calls or imma fuckin beat ya,” fuck those fucking fuckers and-

Fuck, I got sidetracked. Anyway, they get their asses kicked in by 'em all the time. Like, a few months ago, I saw this one dude, hipster moustache dipshit, just kickin one in an alley.

It didn't move, didn't strike back, jhe just laughed at me, threw a bottle of some shitty hipster-mead at me, kept kickin even harder. I think he started pissin on it at that point.

I woulda knocked his block off if the thing hadn't pulled him in first. And then it just disappeared into one o the alley shadows.

When they found the fucker's body cubed up like a car in a tiny cardboard box, can't say I was surprised. Or that I didn't feel any shadyfranken or whatever the hell ya all it.

There was a whole gaggle of 'em a week ago, in this abandoned factory. Got asked by the cops to help; it’s the part that deals with the supernatural shit

Where they dump the good people so the rest of 'em can get on with important shit; like bein dickheads to black people and taking horseshit speeding tickets to raise money for the Mayor's asshole-waxing.

But I told 'em the story before, n they let 'em be. Yanno, I said they're like pigeons, but it's probably more like that than ya'd think.

Smarter people'n me have said the pigeons used to be people's pets. We let 'em out, abandoned them, they go all weird and we call 'em pests. I wonder if this is what happens to people like that. That might be why the pigeons seem to do stuff for ‘em. But, that ain’t here or there.

Anyhoo, IDK what they're buildin in there. But, it it's the somethin I think there's somethin to, I ain't worried. It ain't gonna hit anybody we actually like, and the people they do...

I think we can just agree: Fuck 'em.

SO YEAH, this is the part one of my Challenge, for Gothic Horror! Specifically, the Box People are based on our mistreatment of the homeless as a society, how we neglect them and yet despise the signs of our neglect.

The use of them for super-cheap on film would; of course; just be an actor in a box, maybe with some off-the-shelf monster claws/sleeves for their arms or lenses for their eyes if you’re feelin fancy.

As with most of my other stuff, these creatures and this story are free to use as you see fit under a CC-BY-Vanilla license so long as I; Thomas F. Johnson, am credited as their creator!

And, if you wanna support me, maybe check out my Patreon, or even just send a Ko-Fi my way! Every penny is appreciated, and I am eternally grateful for those who donate!

So yeah, we’ll keep this train a-rollin, with Part 2 sooner than you think!

#open species #worldbuilding #open source character #open source characters #homelessness #gothic horror

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panticwritten · 7 years ago

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Breaking Furnace Book 1: Lockdown

Chapter 5: Reverse Nepotism

Table of contents!

All of my writing!

I’ve had to change quite a bit of formatting to post this on tumblr because I am a fiend when it comes to using different fonts and tools and junk in my writing. If you want to read this chapter with its original formatting, you can do so here.

After this chapter, some of the formatting really starts to matter between the original document and the limits of what I can do on here. It doesn’t matter as much until the other four books, but I’m just gonna mention that I’m kind of disappointed in how limiting tumblr is. If you have a chance, I would seriously suggest checking the document.

You can leave comments by highlighting specific text and clicking the bubble that appears to the side!

Super neat.

Remember that this is a daydream taking place in the Escape From Furnace universe, so keep that in mind if you haven’t read EFF.

Word count: 6302

Possible triggers for this chapter

Dissociation

(Almost) physical violence

Emotional manipulation

Brief mention of NAZI memorabilia

Hallucinations

Taphephobia

Scotophobia

Let me know if you need anything else tagged!

Next chapter will be up February 9th at 7pm PST.

If you like what I do here, maybe consider buying me a Ko-fi or checking out my Patreon! I love being able to put so much out for free, but this would be a great way to show support and also see cool new content!

~-S-~

When I reach the yard, I walk close to the walls. I’m so focused on putting one foot in front of the other, eyes on the entrance to my cell, that I don’t notice Connor until he stands in front of me. His lips ask if I’m okay, but the words just sound like noise.

I wave him away, and he backs off. I screw my eyes shut, ground myself with the feeling of rock under my thin shoes, and the strange feeling disappears. Or lessens. The world doesn’t feel like static when I open my eyes again, at least.

I have the foresight to throw up another illusion to keep nosy inmates from seeing the two of us talking. I don’t know what it looks like from the outside, and I don’t really care.

I look to Connor, surprised when I see his brows creased. They smooth in an instant, but his concern remains when he rests a hand against my arm.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his gentle words accompanied by a brush of his mind against mine and his lips ghosting against my forehead.

I curl my fists. He hasn’t been back long enough for me to throw all of this at him at once.

“I’m fine,” I promise. I step out of his grasp, past him, and climb into the top bunk. Connor takes a seat on the bottom, so I can’t see him.

“Did you hurt him?”

I can’t help but smile at the hope in his voice. I flop onto my stomach and reach my hand into the open air between the bunks. He catches my hand and guides it to his head. I gently run my fingertips over his hair before letting my arm swing freely over the edge.

“No,” I promise. “I didn’t do anything.”

The silence between us, for the first time in a long time, isn’t heavy.

I sigh, messing with his hair again. “I missed you. I still do.”

“This was your idea”

“I know.”

Quiet reigns for again.

I twist a lock of hair between my fingers, and he absently entwines his fingers with mine to stop me. I haven’t felt this at ease in his company in more than two years—for him, it’s been upwards of five.

It feels like a part of the broken connection between us has healed.

I’m not sure how long we’ve been sitting when he lets go of my hand. I poke my head over the side of the bed to see his eyes grow hard. I look up and scowl at the sight of Kevin ambling over to the cell.

I force myself to sit up, willing my body to stop protesting quite so vigorously.

He stops when he enters, the illusion of my shield shattered. His confusion gives me a chance to see just how badly he came out of the fight.

A nasty bruise spreads from his nose to his left eye and blood still trickles from his nostrils. Dark stains on his sleeves confirm that the bleed was much worse.

I slide from the top bunk to stand at his side. I threw the fight, might as well play the part. He catches me around the shoulders possessively, turning a smug grin on Connor.

He stands, barely attempting to hide his irritation. He glances at me, but does nothing else to keep me from becoming a passive bystander. .

“What happened to your face, boss?” Connor asks, leaning against my bed.

“Always got somethin’ to say, don’t ya’ Sawyer?”

Connor averts his eyes moodily. “If you kept going, you'd have ruined everything before we even got started.”

“Shove it. I thought the whole idea’s not to make a scene. Sure made a scene stoppin’ that fight.”

Connor doesn’t say anything. I reach my mind out to his, but I can’t get past the tension crackling like electricity. I furrow my brows. He doesn’t seem to notice anything, now turned away.

Kevin breaks my concentration by brushing my hair back from my ear. His breath tickles my neck as he leans close. I suppress an uncomfortable shiver, but I angle my head toward him to let him know I’m listening.

“Teach him a lesson,” he murmurs.

I freeze, turned to stone at the command. Connor shows no sign that he heard, glazed eyes fixed on the wall of the cell. I try again to reach him, but a wall of worry remains in my way.

“Perry, you hear me?” Kevin shakes me, his grip on my shoulder tightening.

Yeah, no.

I push away from him, matching the glare he turns on me. “You’re crossing a line, and you know it.”

Connor finally looks up, his eyes asking his questions for him. I don’t have time to answer now, especially if he’s not listening to me. This isn’t his fight. I need to handle this myself.

“I won the fight.” Kevin’s voice doesn’t raise, insistent petulance remaining his defining feature. At least he’s reliable for one thing. “You’re supposed to listen.”

Is he serious?

“The fight?” I hack out a laugh. “No, that’s not how this works.”

“But—”

“No.” I have to keep a snarl out of my voice, reminding myself that we’re all supposed to be on the same side. “If you think I’m giving up control to you, you’re crazy. I’m not scared to do this without you. Again.”

The blood drains from Kevin’s face. He shoots a nervous glance at Connor, as if expecting reassurance from him. He gets none, merely a shrug as the two of us await his response.

“This is—” He flicks his eyes between us and licks his lips, fidgeting. “I knew I should’a stayed home.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Connor asks, peeved. “I gave you every chance to back out.”

“I— You—” Kevin splutters, his anger building up again. “What ‘bout you? Why’d you come back to this shitshow?”

Connor glances at me, hesitating. Kevin catches it and grins, latching onto whatever he can, it seems, to stay in control of the situation.

“That’s it, innit? Gotta follow her—” At that, Connor’s lip curls. “—everywhere, don’tcha?”

“Kevin,” I mutter, but he ignores my warning.

“Gotta trot behind her like a puppy, never mind that she doesn’t care none about us.” Kevin’s smile turns snide, more of a sneer than anything else. “Think you’re different from the rest of us? She’d let you die in a second, just watch her.”

If he says anything else, I don’t hear him. He doesn’t know anything. I know he’s just trying to rile Connor up. I know he’s shooting in the dark for what might hurt him, but he has shitty aim. I’ll wipe that smug grin off his face.

A hand closes around my wrist before I can make a move.

The warmth from Connor’s grip spreads like fire from the point of contact to my other hand, curled into a fist. It soothes my nerves, stealing away my desire to drive my knuckles into Kevin’s mouth.

I swallow hard and take a step back.

Connor lets go. I turn my back on the boys, not wanting to think about what just passed between us with Kevin still here. I need him to leave. He needs to go, Connor and I need to talk.

Really talk.

The static crowds in. The same sparks keeping me from Connor’s thoughts, that turned his words to nothing, it all presses in. Even the voices behind me disappear, swallowed by the empty white noise. I close my eyes, fists clenched at my sides. Any more that that, Connor will notice and it’ll only get worse.

I thought I would leave this at home if I came here. I thought I would be able to do all of this, but it just won’t go away. It followed me here, though, and isn’t that exactly what I deserve? I dragged us here. Everyone came because Connor asked for me.

They came because I asked.

And that’s not good enough. This is no place for any of them.

It’s not real. None of it is real, imaginary hate and pain that I’m putting all of us through. It’s a weekend trip everyone regrets the second you pile in the car, but worse. This is more than a weekend, and we all have to die before it can end.

Tears spring to my eyes, and that seems to be enough to dispel the effect of the static wrapped around me. I stare, once again, at the red rock of my cell wall, tears streaming down my cheeks. After a moment, the argument behind me trickles back in, and I peek over my shoulder to check on them.

“—for this, you know! She came to me with the idea,” Kevin leans insolently against the bars.

“You know that you’re pushing too far. They said it themself, why are you still asking for more?” Connor’s mouth presses a hard line, his voice barely level, and the sparks still fly from his mind when I try to reach out.

I was naive to think we could go back to normal so easily.

“She knew what she was getting into. You knew what she was getting into,” Kevin says. Connor practically snarls in response, and I stare at him.

I’ve never seen that before.

“We both thought you could be trusted to keep hold of yourself!”

“I can be!” Kevin straightens up and includes me in his glare once again. “We gotta make it believable, right? It wouldn’t be if—”

“I don’t care!” Connor hisses, finally letting go of what little hold he had on his temper. Kevin doesn’t flinch, but I do. “You’re out of control. We can’t do any of this without them, so you’d better think carefully before you try to pull shit like that again!”

I can’t take my eyes off of him. I have never seen Connor lose his temper. I’ve seen him mad, alright, but he’s never like this. Back straight, his voice cold and scathing, it’s like looking at a stranger.

I step back, but there’s nowhere to go. The detached look on Connor’s face doesn’t belong there. For the first time since he’s returned, I wish I could have the old Connor back. The simple voice, always happy, even if he was an absolute prick.

At the thought, Connor’s gaze shifts, softer, to me. His head tilts, barely, in my direction, brows furrowed. I must look like shit, because his eyes widen, stricken. He opens his mouth, shifting to face me, but doesn’t get a chance to say anything.

“At least I’m not defending a selfish little whore with a god-complex instead of letting her fight her own battles,” Kevin snarls, shattering the frail contact between me and Connor.

I turn a glare on Kevin, eyes narrowed. A triumphant gleam lights his eyes, but his victory is short lived. I call out when Connor launches himself at him.

They tumble out of the cell, and I don’t see much in the rising dust. I follow them out and scream for them to stop, but a crowd begins to form. They shunt me to the side as they all gather around to cheer the two on and join in. I try to push through, but the crowd is too thick and I’m quickly shoved back into my own cell.

A siren blares. For a terrible second, the prison seems to freeze. All sound but the siren is suspended.

The fight pauses. No one moves.

We hold our breath as one.

Then, the second passes.

The whole crowd takes off, dragging the fight with them. The pounding of feet on stone and shouts from around the yard permeate the air. I flee to my own bed, covering my ears and waiting for it to end.

Finally, it does, and the cells screech shut soon after. I don’t move, don’t even open my eyes. A shock of static fills the air, and I know that the warden’s face is now filling the large screen in the yard. If anything, this makes me cringe further away.

“Good afternoon, children,” my brother says, dangerously cordial. “That was the second skirmish today. It seems as though some of you have more energy than you can deal with, so work hours will be doubled for the next few days.”

A groan passes through the prison like a massive sigh. There it is. At least Connor and Kevin both have power enough here to keep from getting killed by angry inmates.

“We know who’s at fault, however, and you can be assured that she will be punished. Two nights in the hole, I think.”

A block of ice settles in my gut. I open my eyes to see a blacksuit crossing the yard.

No.

No, no, no.

I can’t go down there. Not yet, I can’t. Maybe I should have just fought Connor earlier. He would have forgiven me eventually, and this wouldn’t be happening.

I mechanically leave my bed to wait. Fighting won’t make this any easier. When the cell slides open, I don’t fight the blacksuit. He grabs my arm and pulls me along. I stare blankly at the cells that we pass, at the hostile glares and smug grins.

I hardly notice the siren screaming out again, turning my eyes to watch Cross in the big screen as the steel door swings open. Just before I pass through the door and lose sight of his shark’s grin, he addresses me directly.

“Busy first week, wouldn’t you say?”

~-S-~

I expect to be thrown directly into solitary, but the blacksuit surprises me by leading me past the steel hatches in the ground. I glance at him, but say nothing. My next thought is the infirmary, but when we forgo the plastic flaps of the wheezers’ domain, I know exactly where we’re going.

We walk silently down another hall, toward a forked path I’ve taken far too many times.

Finally, we turn right and approach a sleek door fitted into the rock wall. The suit stops at the mouth of the hallway. He nods at me before backing away from the opening in the rock.

Even they don’t want to be anywhere near what the room contains, I guess.

I’ve gotten used to the stench of darkness and the gravity of Furnace. I turn the knob and cross the threshold with just a moment of hesitation. It’s almost relieving to be in the presence of this kind of raw power.

But my gaze lingers on the old rotary phone upon the desk as I enter.

The weight on my back seems to double, and my confidence splinters. The phone, sitting innocuously on the smooth wood, stares at me while dread pools in my gut. Sweat breaks on my forehead, and my breath catches.

Then the man behind the desk clears his throat and my unease vanishes. The room is just a room again, the phone just a phone.

I only look at Cross for a moment before crossing my arms and averting my eyes. He’s smiling, which is always a bad sign. I don’t approach him, glaring at the red flag bearing the Furnace logo behind his head. The logo is a mere replacement for his old order’s symbol, and the thought makes my stomach churn.

“Now you’re just being childish,” he says. He retains a note of humor, and that’s a bad sign.

I grunt a response that means nothing, and he chuckles. The sound of paper sliding against the wood of the desk piques my interest, all the same.

“Very well. Sit, at the very least.”

After a moment, I grudgingly cross to the chair he gestures to. I drop into it and snatch up the paper he’s offered. I don’t look at it, though, finally regarding him with disdain.

Now, what does he want?

“I was going to find an excuse to bring you down here, but,” he leans forward and rests his chin on steepled fingers. “You decided to start a riot in my prison.”

I tut at his word choice, somehow forcing my frown to deepen.

“That was hardly a riot,” I mutter.

“Semantics.” He waves my words away. I wonder how well it would go over if I just walked away. “You’re here now. I may as well have the pleasure of having you see this in my own office.”

Remembering the paper in my hand, I look down and unfold the thin document. My irritation fades, and I lose hold of the glare I’d planned to retain throughout this meeting.

It’s the blueprint I was working on before coming down here. He’s closed the loopholes I purposefully created, passages that would allow escape under the right circumstances. It’s harsher, reaching further into the ground, and it hurts my heart.

“These are the real ones?” I ask, tracing the passages with a finger. Why would he show me this?

“Yes.” I glance up at him, narrowing my eyes at his lofty tone. He doesn’t look at me, his attention focused on the paper in my hand. “We’re starting construction before the week is out. It will open within a few years.”

He peers at me out of the corner of his eye, his lips quirking up.

Like a slap, I realize what he’s getting at. I don’t answer, looking back at the sketch. He’s just as arrogant as I remember.

What, does he think I was excited about the German prison?

Eventually, after I’ve stewed for a while, he breaks the silence.

“You still have the option to join the right side of this, you know.”

“Never,” I answer, voice level.

I struggle to keep my expression just as placid, carefully folding the blueprint. I push it back toward him on the desk, trying and failing to meet his eyes. He’s hiding something, still.

May as well push my luck.

“Are you still doing it?”

He grins. The shark’s smile, so familiar from the blacksuits, chills my blood coming from him.

“Doing what, pray tell?”

You slimy, arrogant, piece of shit.

I don’t answer, can’t let myself answer. He has to know what I’m talking about, there’s no way he doesn’t.

After a length of silence, he looks away. He presses a button and calls me an escort to my cell. “This conversation obviously isn’t over, but you have a lot to think about.”

“You won’t find forgiveness here,” I swear, pushing myself out of my seat. “You’re going to pay for everything eventually.”

I nearly turn, meaning to meet my escort at the door, when his eyes finally catch mine. The office peels away, a flickering series of images replacing it.

A young boy, pinned down, a gas mask stitched to his skin. His shrieks echo, even in the instant he remains in sight.

Trenches, the dead stretched as far as the eye can see, a man that is not a man turning to face me. The shadow consuming him reaches for me before even the man’s face is visible.

A dark orchard, a single raven perched on a branch, its eyes piercing me. It opens its beak, its shriek lost in the howls of a unseen beast.

Someone has been skulking in Furnace’s old memories.

The office snaps back into place, and I have to catch myself to keep from falling back into the chair. I don’t look at Cross, I can’t, but I can still see the edges of his grin.

I asked for that, and I know it.

“I look forward to it, then.”

A blacksuit I hadn’t noticed entering grabs my arm, but I jerk away.

I turn my eyes on Cross again, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes, and I know I must represent everything weak in the world he most despises.

Well, back at you, brother.

“I will never stand at your side.”

I turn and sweep out of the room. The blacksuit marches at my side, and I wonder how much he might have heard from that office. He leads me down the hall, all the way back to the hatches in the ground.

One of them waits, open, at my feet.

I finally look to the soldier, not wanting to forget who I’m really fighting for. I recognize him, one of the two that met me at the Black Fort yesterday.

He directs a short nod at me.

I manage a smile. A weak one, but still better than nothing.

I clamber down into the hole in the ground, not looking up until after the hatch closes above me, sealing me in complete darkness. I can’t see the hatch, or anything else.

Staring up, shapes seem to move around me. The slithering spectres remain just out of sight, making the chamber seem much larger than it really is. The thought constricts my throat, and breath won’t come to me.

I’m back in the dark, in the ground, and I’m going to die here.

I stumble away and my back hits the wall. The darkness settles as if it never moved, my fear releasing its hold on my lungs. Scared of the dark. Scared of the underground. Scared of Cross.

Why did this have to be the universe I’m stuck on?

I need to keep busy. I’ve been here for less than a minute, and I’m already on edge. Though I know the hole’s dimensions from past experience, I map out the tiny cell with shaking hands. If nothing else, this assures me that nothing is hiding here.

There’s simply not enough room.

I sit against the wall opposite the hole that calls itself a toilet. I try to fill the silence, recalling songs I love and whistling the ones I can’t. My voice shakes, but the sound itself keeps my breathing steady. Eyes closed, I hope to convince myself that I’m back home.

I almost can.

The clammy sweat on my skin lingers, the scent of decay reaching its slimy fingers even here, all of it reminds me of where I am. The nectar, clinging to everything like the sticky residue of tobacco, threatens to seep through my very skin.

My voice catches, but I don’t open my eyes. The quiet lasts too long, and I can’t think of another tune to replace it with.

“Sawyer?”

My fear drains away, and I cock my head uselessly. The voice didn’t come from within the cell, so my ears won’t help me here. I rest my head back against the wall, allowing my awareness to leave my body.

I stand above myself, looking down where I’m still shrouded in inky shadow. With a breath, I look up and flash out of the cell. I’m met with a blur of color as I rush along the corridors, up an elevator shaft, and into the empty yard.

The lockdown is still in effect, so there’s only one place he could be.

I rise in the air, scanning the cells until I find him on the fourth floor. Approaching the cell, I find Connor pacing. Dominic lounges on the top bunk, listening to the words tumbling out of Connor’s mouth.

“… for hours and all I’ve gotten from them is flashes. Something’s wrong.”

“It really hasn’t been that long,” Dominic interjects, but Connor doesn’t seem to hear him.

“All of this is just—I don’t know—but the blacksuits haven’t told me anything.” He pauses, looking out at the quiet yard. I follow his line of sight to see a small gathering of soldiers down below. “Maybe I was wrong about them, their loyalty.”

That’s enough of that.

I slink into the cell, reaching out to Connor. The rigid set of his shoulders loosens, and he leans into the hand I rest on the small of his back. He exhales slowly, releasing his tension in a shuddering sigh.

“Connor?”

I glance over my shoulder to see Dominic watching Connor, his brow creased. Connor looks back, too, much less annoyed than I am to have him here.

“It’s them. They’re okay.”

His words of reassurance could be directed at either of them, though Dominic does seem to relax further. He sinks deeper into his thin mattress, turning his eyes away from Connor. He gives a soft acknowledgement, but seems to ignore us otherwise.

I do the same, not wanting to dwell on him more than I must. I turn back to Connor, trailing a finger over a bruise forming on his jaw. That’s my fault. I try to ignore it.

“Did you miss me?” I tease, instead.

His answering grin is marred by another puff of breath leaving him, this time tied with the essence of regret. When he speaks, they are words that only I can hear, shared through our mutual connection.

“You are okay, right? It was taking awhile, and I wasn’t sure—”

“You know better,” I interrupt, weaving around him. “I’m always fine, remember? I got distracted by a conversation with Cross.”

His brow furrows. “What did he say?”

“He was friendly—as friendly as he can be, I guess.” I pause, considering my words carefully. “He told me that I could switch sides.”

“What?”

“I know. He threw me in here to think things over.”

He sinks onto the bottom bunk, an audible hum emitting from his mind—better than the sparking barrier from before, at least. I cup his cheek, and he looks up. I know he can’t see me, but the concern crackling between his skin and my fingers lets me know that he feels me here.

“Hey,” I murmur, pressing my lips against his forehead, mirroring his go-to method of chasing my worries away. “Everything will be fine.”

“Something feels different this time.” He looks back out to the yard, and I follow his gaze, dropping my hand. Everything looks normal to me. “I can’t put my finger on it, but something’s wrong.”

That, at least, is a concern I can address.

“Cross is doing something. Turning the new blacksuits against me.” Connor’s gaze flicks back toward me, eyes narrowed. “I don’t know the details, just what the kids have told me, but he’s up to something down here.”

He nods, flinty determination echoing hollowly from his thoughts to mine. I don’t know what he could possibly be thinking beyond that, with his teeth worrying at the corner of his lip and his eyes focused once again at the dusty yard.

We sit in silence, and I relax as the cold waves pouring from my friend gradually ease until I can’t feel his thoughts anymore. I brush a hand through his hair, sad to see those sandy curls dull and limp from so long in the prison.

He turns to me, his eyes focused somewhere to my right. “You have a plan, right? For when we get out of here?”

I nod, though I know he can’t see it. I don’t know how much I should tell him, if I want this to go right. I have to hide so much from the others for this to work.

I remember what I told Cross, that I would never stand with him again. I’ll be lying to everyone so much if I go through with this, and Connor deserves better than that. He deserves to know, in case something goes wrong.

More importantly, in case it goes right.

“Of course,” I answer, finally. “But first, we need to get you out of the prison. I won’t be going with you.”

He isn’t happy about my plan, as I tell him more about it, but he eventually agrees that it’s the best chance we’ve got. I’m glad, because it looks more and more like I won’t have much choice about destroying Cross fully at the end of this.

I should have realized a long time ago that this isn’t a game anymore.

~-S-~

All too soon, I know that I have to go. I can’t stay away from my body for too long, not with the dangers of solitary hanging as a threat, and I still want to have a listen around the prison.

I’m not surprised, upon hearing the complaints, at what I hear.

Of course, Cross had to make them hate me more than they already do. I need to figure out how to deal with that. Kevin—if he’ll even help anymore—can only do so much against a mob of angry kids.

And these kids are more than just angry.

To them, I’m just another piece of the machine that sent them down here for a lifetime. There’s no way to explain to them that I’m not Jessica Furnace, that I want to tear down Cross just like them, or that I’m trying to get them out of here.

They wouldn’t believe me anyway, if I told them the truth. Even if they were real people, they would want a scapegoat.

With no further business in the yard, I open my eyes to snap back into solitary. The darkness hits me like a punch, the negative of the brightly lit yard flashing when I blink.

I rub my eyes, stretching. Everything is sore, between work this morning and the fight, exhaustion seeps its way into my bones. I might have healed my injuries, but the strain on my mind and body are finally catching up to me.

I should try to stay awake as long as I can, though, even if the thought of being here sends my heart racing again. If I wait, maybe I won’t even notice two days passing.

Wishful thinking, of course. Though it feels like hours, as Connor said, I doubt I’ve been here for more than one. Time stands still around here.

I’m still processing my options when the first tendrils of thick darkness begin creeping from the edges of my vision. Irritably, hoping to postpone the fear that comes with the hallucinations in the hole, I swat through the things to disperse them. More appear, and I feel as though I’m being watched.

“It’s not real,” I mutter. “Super fake. Not real.”

I continue the short phrase under my breath, still trying to come to a decision. The darkness weaves around me until it pushes at my mouth and nose, threatening to suffocate me. My mantra never wavers, though the sense of claustrophobia diminishes my resolve.

It’s not real.

A laugh that I can’t really hear sounds through the cell, then:

“Are you sure?”

I don’t hear it, not really, but my mouth goes dry at the words. I turn to be faced with an echo of an old memory. I know that it’s not the real thing, not even in this world made up of dreams and make believe, but it hits me just as violently.

It’s not real.

I don’t realize that I’m backing away until I’m stopped by the wall.

The figure approaches, emitting harsh light that keeps it in sharp relief, and I slide down the barrier. The way it moves, too long arms jutting out from a twisted body, sends my heart into my throat.

I bury my head in my arms, pulling myself into a tight ball against the wall. My lips form the familiar words, but my voice can no longer support them.

I promise, it’s not real.

With my eyes screwed shut, I cower from what stands before me. Its coal eyes, the thick ichor spilling from its childish smile. Even thinking of the shade that has joined me in the cell sends a sob racking my body. A mile under the Earth, far from any help, I hide desperately from a mere shadow of what I once allowed myself to become.

None of this is real.

~-S-~

I don’t know when I fell asleep, or how long I’ve been out. My dreams have been scattered and abstract, but the taste of death lingers in my mouth. When I wake fully, I don’t dare open my eyes or move. I force myself to swallow the panic upon remembering the events leading to my nap.

I can’t afford to make a sound.

The thundering of heavy feet and distant gunshots tell me the children Cross named rats have attacked the compound. The slightest movement could alert them to my presence; I silently pray that they haven’t noticed me already. They would tear me apart as I am now.

I take a shaky breath and try to calm down. I need to find peace or I’ll really be trapped.

I think of home, knowing that I want to be proud of myself when I finally return there. My family, not even aware that part of me is hidden in the recesses of my mind. They must see me every day, not realizing how much I miss them. The thought tears at my heartstrings, so I try a different tact.

Gentle breaths, shallow but content. The form of a young cat curled in a ball replaces that of my sister. Dipper’s purr is strong, and the white designs curling through his gray fur has me smiling. Even from so far away, I can nearly feel the soft comfort of his presence.

Holding onto the feeling, I separate my mind from my body and allow the thought of my little boy to fade away. Hesitantly, I peer out of the cell. I squint in the light, but the corridor is empty for now.

There’s no immediate danger.

It’s another ally to visit, long overdue, that has me traveling through the tunnels. I wind my way down the passageway, stopping only briefly outside of Cross’s quarters to find it vacant. I share a brief smile with the void before moving on.

I hope the rats get him.

I fly along the corridor, finding the broken door beyond which the tunnels of unmapped caves lay. A bright, open cavern lit by halogen lamps shows the cracks in the wall in sharp relief.

One of these cracks is deeper than it seems, and I pass through it. Up a hill and deeper into the darkness and the caves, I try to remain calm. If I don’t, I’ll end up back in the hole with nothing to show for my excursion.

A flicker of light in a lonely tunnel is my only warning that I’ve found Simon and his friends. I stop outside the scope of the light, watching the group.

Simon carries the silver eyes of the blacksuits, showing his unfortunate history in the infirmary. His legs, his body, and one of his arms bulge from his surgeries, the scars barely hidden by the shredded overalls he wears.

The last time I saw him, Jay had finished the last procedure to return his limbs to as near their original size as possible.

He was healing, and he chose to come back to this. What could Connor have possibly said to convince him to return here? Even with the comfort of knowing he can return to his own life in the Cube afterward, why would he come back?

The other two, Ozzie and Pete, gather on the opposite side of the dim flashlight. Ozzie, a skinny kid that might as well have come straight from gen-pop, stares at the light as if in a trance. Pete, on the other hand, carries the weight of a bloated, scarred torso while his limbs remain that of a child.

My form wavers, the thought of Cross tearing my old friends apart nearly sending me back to the hole. Instead, I drift to Simon’s side and murmur in his ear.

“Simon.”

He jumps violently, sweeping the darkness with his needle-eyes as he stands. The others ask him what happened, but he doesn’t answer. I hum, trying to calm him. His eyes fall on the space in which I hide, still panicked.

“It’s me.”

At that, he pauses. He turns back to the other boys, kneeling back down to their level. He tells them to wait, that he’ll come back soon. The moment he turns around to face me in the darkness, a weak smile greets me.

“You okay?” He whispers as we pass further out of earshot. I follow him into the gloom.

“Yeah, fine. I’m stuck in solitary and thought I would check in with you.” He gives my general direction a sharp look, missing by a few meters.

“You should be careful.”

“It’s two nights for a fight I wasn’t even in.” I pause, a scream cutting the air near my cell. “I don’t want to listen to them tear each other apart.”

“What, the rats? I'm surprised you care,” he says, though his conviction is weaker than I would have thought.

I remain silent, mulling over my answer. We reach The Steeple before I come up with anything. The rock goes up into infinity, and I focus on that endlessness when I speak.

“They’re all my children, after everything I’ve been through with them. The rats don’t know any better.” I sigh, looking back at him. “I’m a worse bleeding heart than ever.”

“Maybe it’s better for them to die.” His voice echoes in the cavern, reaching up to the unseen ceiling. “You know better than me what a rat lives with.”

I nod, thinking of the apparition from my cell. I’ve almost crossed that line more than once. I look to him, only knowing where he is from the shine of his eyes. I nearly ask him, finally, why he came back, but the sound of screeching metal from my cell distracts me.

“Shit, I have to go.”

I don’t have time to explain, returning with a blink to my cell. I scramble to my feet, not sure how well I can defend myself against a rat. No nectar, already weak, I brace myself against the light of the opening hatch.

#writing #my writing #bf #maddart #sawyer #connor #madd #bf writing #the collective

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girlwsoftsound · 7 years ago

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Pancakes || Matty Healy Oneshot

Word Count: 2,230 Summary: On a night where the band is drunk and stir crazy from tour, Matty gets a craving for pancakes that leads to more mischief than anyone could have anticipated. Author’s Note: Today needed a little something to smile & laugh at, so here’s this fic <3 Be sure to throw in a like or comment if you liked it! I love seeing feedback from you all. Please feel free to read my other work here! Enjoy!

Touring with the boys, you were bound to experience some pretty wild shit.

It was a given. Putting together four boys who had known each other for nearly fourteen years, their best friend saxophone player, and their lead singer’s girlfriend into a bus for weeks on end was a recipe for chaos. A matter not of ‘if’ but ‘when’ it would occur. You joined with this fully known and accepted. And you were excited for anything that came your way.

‘Anything’ came your way about a week into the tour, when everyone was starting to get a bit stir crazy, but still was excited enough to not channel it into slumming it in the bus in exhaustion. Patron, Gin, and wine sat laid out across every counter surface. One of Drake’s more rap heavy songs was playing loudly from portable speakers, just barely audible over the horrid and comical stylings of the very drunk duo of Matty and George. As they tried and failed to rap, Ross and John sat near the kitchen area and did shots, as many of them as they could do to drive them to the point where the boys were not as annoying as they seemed. Adam sat between them and the drunken idiots, desperately trying to tune his guitar, but laughing at the boys when their voices grew ghastly. You sat nearby Jamie, who was shaking his head the whole time and probably questioning how he became the manager of a group of wild idiots like these, looking like a properly embarrassed parent. On any other night, you would have joined right alongside him in his embarrassment. However, on this one, you were sleep deprived and laying on your couch, with way too much tequila in your belly and your boyfriend now attempting to dance along to Drake’s newest single. How could you not laugh at that?

The giggles continued as Matty and George consumed even more alcohol and became even bigger Drake fans. You nearly laughed until your sides began to hurt as the boys resorted to dancing in each other’s arms as a means to keep the other from losing their shaky balance and falling over. They looked like a proper couple, even more so than you and Matty, and that was hilarious to you in your slightly less drunken state. You nearly began a chant for them to kiss when Matty, after reaching to take a swig from the bottle nearest him and scrunching up his face from the taste, began yelling.

“HEY! HEY, SHUT UP, ‘M TALKING! S-SHUUUSH!”

Matty waited for the world to stop before going on - George shut off the music, Adam set his guitar aside, Ross and John...well, they continued to drink, just more quietly, and Jamie merely looked up from behind the hand that had been shielding his eyes to the ordeal to gaze at his very crazy partner-in-crime. You sat up, legs crossed and eyes as attentive as they could be. Matty giggled to himself, and then began to finally speak.

“I’ve gotta’ ‘nnouncement to share with you.” He grinned at everyone, leaning his hand on George to steady himself. “I’m,” he spoke, pausing to burp to the laughter of John and Ross, “hungry.”

“Fucking hell, that’s what you stopped us for?” George grumbled, moving away so that Matty had to scramble to not fall. “Make some damn noodles or something, don’t...don’t go stopping the party.”

“Ya’ don’t understand,” he pouted, stumbling over to sit by you and curl up like a small child, “I don’t wanna’ make noodles. I...I want to go out and eat.” You pet his hair, offering up comfort in this trying time of his.

“Well here’s the thing Matthew,” Jamie cut in opposite you, earning a small raise of the head from Matty, “we can go out, but it’s nearly three in the morning. The only places that would be open are breakfast places. Unless you’re fine with going to a pancake house, then I think we’re screw-”

“PANCAKES!”

As if Jamie said the magic word, Matty jumped up and out of his pouting spree. Leaving your side, he stumbled over to the bottle of Patreon and, upon grabbing hold of it, held it up as if he were going to make a toast. The rest of the bus looked on, curious as to what else could possibly leave his mouth now. You giggled, reaching up to cover your mouth and disguise it with your hand.

“Well, let’s go get some fucking pancakes now, yeah? YEAH?”

You watched in amusement as the boys all conceded to his wishes, agreeing that pancakes would be pretty good even at three in the morning. Even the more sober Adam enjoyed the thought, nodding along before grabbing his guitar once more. You hardly could complain, either. A big stack of pancakes sounded mouthwatering good. You were not sure that you had eaten a proper home-cooked kind of meal since you left on tour with the boys. Anything, even pancakes, sounded fantastic. Slamming his hand on the counter, Matty turned and faced the direction of their poor driver.

“HEY DRIVER! TO THE PANCAKES!”

The driver, the trooper that he was, gave Matty a thumbs up up front. Matty cheered with a loud ‘WAHOOOO’ before spinning around and telling George to turn the music back up again. His eyes caught on you at this moment, catching you mid-giggle from both the way Jamie looked positively mortified around the driver and the way Matty looked seconds from toppling over. Swaying his hips, he came your way and brought your face into his hands.

“Somethin’ funny to ya?”

“Yeah,” you replied, giggling some more, “you, you dope.”

“Yeah well,” he muttered, leaning in to nuzzle his nose against yours, “you’re a dope. But you’ve got a pretty face. I like that.”

“You using your lyrics to flirt with me, Healy?”

“I’ll use whatever I want when I’m about to kiss a pretty girl like you,” and sure enough, he did just that, leaning in to capture your lips and send your stomach in knots. You both sat there for a bit kissing as the bus changed course to find the nearest pancake place - a Denny’s off the side of the road. When it did, Matty broke off to take you by the hand and drag you out, because he just had to be the first one to get his pancakes. The rest of the band trickled in after you both, Jamie looking already apologetic for the state of them all as he trailed in last. Matty ordered a tall stack of six buttermilk pancakes, while you ordered three. Adam got two and a side of eggs, George got five chocolate chip pancakes, and Ross and John decided to split a stack of four together. Jamie went with one, merely out of desire to facilitate getting them out of the place as fast as they could. It was a lost cause the moment they stepped into the shop drunk, though.

“This is so good,” Matty somehow mumbled through a rather large bite of his pancakes. You giggled as you drank your order of milk, sliding a piece around on your fork through syrup.

“Eating well, babe?”

Matty replied with a grunt back. He was too invested in the deliciousness of his food to form proper sentences, especially when so drunk. Also hard for him to do was eat all of his food without getting distracted. He got through two pancakes before standing up and, without a word, heading to the door. Everyone gave each other a look before you went hustling after him, trying your best not to fall. You caught him just before he exited, grabbing his arm with a huff.

“And where are you going?”

“Shower,” he hummed, swaying a bit. “Gotta’ freshen up.”

“But your pancakes.”

“They box em up, yeah? Have them do that.”

With a sigh, you brought Matty in for a hug. “Fine. Don’t trip goin’ up, yeah?”

Matty smiled, kissing your cheek before pulling back. “Yeah.”

With that, he was off, wobbly but still aiming for the bus. You watched until he made it successfully inside before heading back in and asking the poor waitress still up to serve you all to get a box for his. Thankfully, there was one, which allowed you to stuff the delicious food without letting it go to waste. After it was all packed away nicely, you brought it over to George and Adam’s booth and finished the rest of your stack there. John and Ross happily ate theirs together, giggling to themselves as Ross tried to take a picture of them sharing to post online. Jamie ducked out soon after Matty, probably heading to the bus to make sure his superstar drunk didn’t fall in the shower and make him regret this decision to stop even more. It was all laughs and fluffy pancakes for the next fifteen minutes or so. And then, a panicked Jamie appeared at the door.

“I don’t care who does it, or how fast of a runner they are, but one of you needs to come help me get Matty.”

You shared a glance between George and Adam before turning to Jamie. “What’s wrong, is he okay? Why is he running?”

“He’s-”

“WAHOO!”

That was when you saw him: hair shaggy and wet, his face giddy and drunk, and his body as bare as the day he was born, running around like a maniac outside the bus and nearly toppling over from his laughter and alcohol. George broke into a fit of giggles, while Adam jumped up and ran to Jamie’s aid. Ross and John shared a look before laughing as well. You smirked, shaking your head.

“He’s a goddamn lunatic.”

And that he was. Not even with the addition of Adam was Matty able to be detained. He was so drunk and so silly that he did not wish to be able to be caught, and tapped into some reserve adrenaline of his to be able to do so. You watched him through the window running around with a blush, shaking your head. George by that point fell into full out laughter, clutching his sides.

“Alright you three, here’s what’s gonna’ happen,” you spoke, getting their attention away from your drunk, naked boyfriend behind you. “Ross and John? See if you can box up whatever is left and tip the shit out of the waitress. I’m going to pay for the food. George...make sure you get this shit on video before you go and help them actually wrangle him in, yeah?”

George grinned. “It’d be my pleasure.”

Taking out his phone, George ran off to do just that. As Ross and John followed your instructions, you went and paid for everything, while also ordering a side of tater tots because well...it was three A.M., you still felt a bit drunk, your boyfriend was publically nude running outside a Denny’s, and you wanted some goddamn tater tots. Procuring them, you thanked the waitress kindly for not taking any pictures of your boyfriend and spreading them anywhere, slipped her more money, and then stepped outside to sit on the curb. George was still recording the scene. Jamie and Adam were screaming after Matty as he ran around the bus laughing, his curls bouncing up and down as he did. You pulled out your phone and began recording as well as you ate. George turned his phone to you.

“And how do you feel knowing that you are currently dating that?”

You threw a cheeky grin to the camera. “Lucky as fuck.”

“And why’s that?”

“‘s got a cute bum,” you replied, plain and simple before popping a tot in your mouth. George turned to Matty as if to check your words, nodded, and then turned the camera back to the boy.

“Suppose you’re right.”

For the next ten minutes, you sat watching Matty, so carefree, so drunkenly silly, running around the parking lot dodging Adam and Jamie. Eventually, George stepped in and tackled Matty, his bigger stature actually holding him in as he tried to break free. He carried him to the bus, and when you all collectively filed back in with boxes and a now half-finished order of tater tots, Matty was found lying on his bed giggling up a storm as George laughed beside him. You walked over to him and did the same, reaching to pull a blanket over Matty’s lower half.

“Silly boy.”

“I am so fast!”

“What happened to your shower?”

“Took it,” he said, grinning up at you. “Had more Tequila after. It was yummy.”

“How much Tequila, Matty?”

He giggled. “A bunch!”

“And Jamie didn’t stop you?”

“Jamie,” Jamie grumbled, wiping sweat off his head, “was busy trying to apologize to our driver for having to stop because somebody wanted pancakes in the middle of the night.”

“They were good pancakes!”

You giggled and put a finger to his lips. “They were. How about I get you some water and pills and then you go to sleep? I’ll join you after my own shower, sans the streaking.”

Matty smiled wide. “Yeah. Wanna’ cuddle.”

“Of course. Oh and Matty?”

“Yes?” he asked, watching you start to go.

You paused and smirked. “You have a cute bum.”

Giggling and blushing, Matty shooed you away.

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