#one of us chapter 23

[alphashley14]

One of Us

A Scooby Doo: Mystery Incorporated/Mystery Skulls Crossover

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Chapter 24

Heaven

The Mystery Skulls and Mystery Incorporated each wrote notes for Ricky and Cassidy for whenever they woke up. Then each group packed into their respective vans and set out into Crystal Cove to get started on their part of Arthur’s plan. 

The three Mystery Skulls were sitting in the front seats of their van - Lewis driving, Vivi in the copilot’s spot, and Mystery in her lap having taken on the form of a dog. And for the whole ride, he was quiet. Just as he’d been ever since Velma had voiced her idea. The chatter between Vivi and Lewis was minimal as well, as Lewis maneuvered the van through town behind the Mystery Machine. They both knew without exchanging a word that something about his past in Crystal Cove was deeply, deeply troubling Mystery. But neither of them could find the words to ask him about it, and they knew his preference for retelling certain parts of his past as few times as he possibly could. When they stopped in front of their destination, a gothic manor near the edge of Darrow University belonging to a certain formerly disgraced horror writer, the dog went absolutely rigid in Vivi’s arms and she had to carry him out of the car.

Of course, Mystery thought to himself. Of course they would bring me back here. Why do the fates seek to torment me?

Mystery had known, of course, that they were going to visit H.P. Hatecraft. And that Mr. Hatecraft’s home was on Darrow University’s Campus. He had not realized, however, that their destination was this house specifically. The roof had been re-shingled since the last time Mystery was here. It used to be orange, but was now a midnight blue. Yet there was no mistaking the familiar smells, structures, and trees. But of course the smells Mystery used to love the most had long since faded, and would never return again. 

Emiya and Donald blowing smoke rings side by side. Elanor cutting George down from that tree after falling into another trap. Joan and Kano scolding Danny, Diana, and Shinobu for setting it. All those wonderful parties and get-togethers… and all of those funerals… 

Mystery’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Fred knocking on the door. “Professor Hatecraft? Professor Hatecraft? Hello? Are you home? It’s Mystery Incorporated.”

Mystery raised his head from where it had been resting on Vivi’s shoulder and gathered himself. In order to save the future, the present was what mattered right now. The past wasn’t dead. But it would have to wait. Mystery had lived in solitude with these memories for twenty years. He could wait a day more.

“Please, Professor Hatecraft. We know you’ve been busy, but we need your help!” Velma called. 

The door opened, and there stood the man himself, H.P. Hatecraft, still in his black and gray striped pajamas. “My friends! By the maw of Angoroth! How good to see you. What brings you by?”

“Not a social call I’m afraid,” said Daphne. 

“We really need your help,” said Fred. “May we come in?” 

“Oh. Uh… how about we talk- out here? On the front porch? Gets terribly stuffy inside you know,” he said quickly, not-so-subtly adjusting his collar to better conceal his neck. Everyone raised an eyebrow. What’s he sweating about?

“I wish we could,” said Velma, “but this matter is… delicate. So it doesn’t have to be here, but we need to talk in private.”

“H.P.? Who is it?” Then none other than Harlan Ellison appeared in the doorway from behind Hatecraft in nothing but a pair of striped silk pajama bottoms and a matching robe. Which was untied, revealing his bare torso underneath. And when he saw them, a look appeared on both writers’ faces like they’d been caught and Ellison quickly tied his robe shut.

“Mr. Ellison? What are you doing here so early?” Daphne asked. 

“Yeah. And why does it look like you slept over?” Asked Velma. 

And Hatecraft and Ellison, who were usually so famed for their use of words, seemed to be all out of them. 

“Oh. Uh- Harlan-”

“Hatecraft and I-”

“-Were just um…” 

“-Working on that new book!” 

“Yes! That’s it. We were just collaborating on our new book!” 

Scooby tilted his head, confused. “Uh… In your pajamas?” 

“Don’t question the process.” Ellison snapped. 

The Mystery Skulls were not nearly as oblivious about such matters. Mystery had been shocked right out of any lingering angst, at least for the moment, and was now shaking in his attempts to conceal his laughter.

“Ya know if you two are together and don’t want anyone to know, nobody here is going to out you,” Vivi said bluntly.

“Wait they’re what-” But Fred was cut off when both writers abruptly grabbed the kids by their collars and dragged them inside. 

Harlan slammed the door shut behind them. “Okay, yes. We’re together. Now what do you kids want?” He demanded. 

Mystery Incorporated was too slack-jawed to answer.

“Oh shut your mouths before they let in flies!” Ellison said. “We’re gay, not extraterrestrials!”               

Five jaws snapped shut instantaneously. “I-it’s not that!” Daphne apologized quickly. “None of us are against it just…” 

“Surprised,” Scooby said.

“Well this would explain why you and Angie never got together,” Mystery said  thoughtfully. “Her union with Dale wasn’t one I expected, but having met their daughter I’m more than pleased with the results.”

That snapped Velma out of her stupor. She turned so fast it nearly gave her whiplash. “Wait- you knew my parents too?!” 

“Not personally, but the Dinkleys had lived in Crystal Cove for generations.”

“I’m sorry- weird talking dog- do I know you? And why do you two look familiar?” Harlan asked, pointing between Vivi and Shaggy (who looked like Arthur at the moment, as you recall.)

“You might’ve known our parents,” Vivi said. “I’m Vivi Yukino. This is Arthur Kingsmen. Well- sorta.” 

“Wait- Vivi and Arthur? As in Tedashi’s little girl? And Gawain’s boy?” Harlan’s scowl was abruptly wiped off his face.

“Yeah,” Vivi said sheepishly, “those are our Dads.”

“Old friends of yours?” Hatecraft asked. 

“Oh yes! You wouldn’t have known them H.P. All that unpleasantness happened years before you moved here. But I knew their fathers from my days as a grad student at Darrow University,” Harlan explained. “Tedashi Yukino was an expert on Japanese mythology, and Gawain Kingsmen was an Arthurian scholar. Come to think of it H.P, I don’t think I ever told you, but I’d been in this house long before the first time you invited me in. As a guest of the previous owners: the Kingsmens.” 

“What?” Everyone but Mystery exclaimed. 

“It’s true,” Mystery sighed. “This house was the Kingsmen family home for nearly six generations. Arthur lived out every day he got to spend with his parents here. This place has changed a lot in twenty years, but I remember it well.” 

“Holy- now that you mention it this place does look kinda similar to the one in Arthur’s old family photos,” Lewis remarked.

“Gawain and Tedashi were a little older than me, and they were both brilliant in their fields,” Ellison continued. “We collaborated several times on various projects and quickly became friends. And you two - why I haven’t seen you since you were… Still, I can hardly blame Tedashi, Jenny, and Shinobu for moving away. It was a terrible thing that happened to those people-” 

“The children haven’t had that talk yet,” Mystery growled before Vivi could ask any questions. “And it’s the duty of their elders to have that discussion at the appropriate time and place.” 

Harlan caught the hint as plain as day. “Oh- Yes! Yes, you’re right. Of course. I’m sorry I overstepped. I suppose I had expected them to know, given how old they are now…” 

“Indeed,” Mystery sighed. “It is high time they knew, and it is a conversation their parents should have had with them years ago. But I don’t believe they ever expected their children to set foot in Crystal Cove again.” 

“I know I wouldn’t,” Harlan agreed with a shudder. 

Beside him, Hatecraft placed a hand on Ellison’s shoulder with about a million questions plastered all over his face, but Harlan placed his hand over his and gave him a look that said I’ll explain later. 

“So!” Hatecraft said, unable to bear the awkward silence any longer, “How may I help you?” 

“We need your help getting into the health sciences building tomorrow night,” Fred said. 

“It’s kind of a matter of life and death,” Daphne added.

“The health sciences building? Whatever for?” Ellison scoffed. 

“I’m not sure of how much help I could be,” Hatecraft added. “That department is hardly my specialty.” 

“-And we realize that,” Velma sighed, “but aside from Dean Fenk you’re the only connections we have at Darrow University, and I doubt she’d be receptive. Daphne wasn’t kidding. It is literally a matter of life and death.” 

“By the tentacles of Tawn-Gawn Gorath! You’re asking me to help you break and enter! I’m going to need more of an explanation than that.”

The Mystery Skulls and Mystery Incorporated all looked at each other. 

“A moment,” Fred and Vivi said at the same time. They beckoned both of their groups into one big circle and began to speak in hushed whispers. 

“How much do we tell them?” Vivi asked. 

“Body-swapping aside, what we’re doing is about saving Mr. E,” Velma pointed out.

“Saving Arthur,” Lewis corrected. 

“Yeah,” Velma said, “but it’s Mr. E’s body that’s in that situation, so as far as anyone other than us, E, or Angel knows, that’s Mr. E back at Destroido right now. And besides: gang, at this point… even if by some miracle the three of them swapped back right this second…” 

“Like yeah, I feel the same way,” Shaggy agreed. 

“Reah,” Scooby said, and Daphne and Fred nodded too.

“As would I,” Mystery said without an ounce of hesitation. “And I should hope I speak for the others as well?”

“You do,” Vivi and Lewis nodded. 

“-And that’s all anyone else needs to know,” Velma said. 

“Like you’re right Velma,” Shaggy said. “Like if we started telling them about body-swapping, other dimensions, doomsday, and crazy magic stuff it would totally freak them out.” 

“‘It would be too much,’ as the Mystery Skulls keep putting it,” Daphne said, and all five members of Mystery Incorporated gave Vivi, Lewis, and Mystery a very pointed look at that. To which the Mystery Skulls gave them extremely guilty smiles in return.

“So it would seem we’re in agreement,” Mystery said. 

“We tell them anything immediately pertaining to the Original Mystery Incorporated that might get them to agree to help us,” Vivi said. “And we leave out the magic.”

And just like that, the circle broke and all seven heads turned back to the two very bewildered writers. 

“It’s hard to say where to begin with this one,” Fred said after a moment, scratching the back of his head. “First thing’s first: how familiar are you with Destroido?” 

“That horribly corrupt company that makes all those terrible products?” Hatecraft asked. 

“That’s the one,” Velma said. “We have a long and… to say the least complicated relationship with the owner. He goes by Mr. E.” 

Ellison’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “The owner? How’d you meet him? He never shows himself in public and does all of his business through his CEO, Ed Machine- or at least he did, until he was murdered.”

“Ah, yes. I remember seeing that in the news,” Hatecraft said thoughtfully. “Did they ever catch who did that? Wealthy fellow like that, you’d figure his homicide would be at the top of the CCPD’s priority list.”

“See, that’s the thing…” Daphne said. “Ed Machine’s murder wasn’t exactly a hom-icide per say. It was more like a…” 

“Ruh rarrot-icide?” Scooby offered helpfully.

“Neither of those are words in the English Language!” Harlan griped. (Bad grammar was his absolute #1 pet peeve.) “And assuming you meant to say ‘parrot-icide,’ what’s that even supposed to mean?”

“How we go about answering that question depends entirely on you, Mr. Ellison,” Mystery spoke up. 

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” 

“You were in Crystal Cove twenty years ago. ‘When all of that unpleasantness happened,’ as you put it. So tell me: how much do you remember about those kids that disappeared?” 

“Kids? Who- wait- why does that ring a bell…?” And Ellison suddenly had a dazed, somewhat befuddled look on his face, as though stuck between two places at once. 

Interesting, Mystery thought to himself. “Brad Chiles. Judy Reeves. Cassidy Williams. Ricky Owens. And their mascot, Professor Pericles. You knew them.” 

Ellison blinked at Mystery a few times. Then cried, “My God! How could I have forgotten that? I haven’t heard those names in years. Wait- come to think of it… didn’t they also call their little group ‘Mystery Incorporated?’” 

“Reah, they did,” Scooby nodded. 

“Oh! I believe I came across an article about them while I was researching for my- ehem- since abandoned teen vampire romance novel,” Hatecraft said. “I didn’t pay too much attention to it, but I do remember thinking it was odd that I had never heard them mentioned before.”

“More’s coming back to me now. This- this is weird,” Ellison said, massaging his temples. “It’s like I’ve opened Pandora’s Box. As I recall, their parrot had everything to do with their disappearance and admitted as much, but refused to say what had actually happened to those kids. Let’s see, what else… As I remember it, a lot of people eventually assumed that if he’d murdered them, the bodies had to have been dumped at a point in the caves where the ocean’s current would have swept them out to sea. But others argued they could still be alive because their van never turned up. Especially Mark. Oh God, Mark! I haven’t seen or heard from him in years, but it wouldn’t surprise me if he was the only one still looking for his boy.” 

“Uh… who’s Mark?” Scooby asked with a tilt of his head.

“Mark Owens,” Mystery said, and his eyes had gone glassy. “Ricky’s father.”

The room went heavy and quiet, and Harlan had a hint of suspicion written on his face as he looked at the dog. Why was he the only one in their group who knew that?

“Jenny still sends him a Christmas Card every year. Just like you,” Mystery said, as if he was reading his mind. “-And you’re right… he is still looking.”

Ellison held the dog’s gaze for a moment before breaking the eye contact with a sigh. “I don’t want to say he should give up… it tore this town apart for a while after those kids disappeared, as much as people used to complain about their uh… escapades. Still. Come to think of it -  without any bodies or definitive proof of death, it was sort of odd how abruptly the search ended… Why am I only remembering this now?” 

“Because something wicked didn’t want you to,” Lewis said. 

“What’s that supposed to mean? Ellison asked.

“And back to the original discussion at hand, what do those missing kids have to do with the owner of Destroido?” Hatecraft asked. 

And the answer to that, of course, was everything.

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

Within the twisted depths of Destroido, Arthur Kingsmen woke with a start. He couldn’t doze off! They had so much to do! Items to move, accounts to secure, a torture device to- oh. He had dozed off. Hours ago, if the state of the room was anything to go by. 

He was sprawled across the couch, a blanket had been thrown over him, the room was dark, Marcie was gone, and she’d left him a note on the table. 

You dozed off at about 2am. Figured I’d let you sleep.  I snuck out to make appearances. Figured the bird might notice if I’m too scarce for too long. You should probably do the same sometime this morning. There’s always a breakfast spread available for the scientists in the mess hall, and as of recently it wouldn’t be unusual for Mr. E to stop by and grab a bite - please eat something. I’ll meet you back in Mr. E’s rooms at noon.  -M

Arthur quietly reminded himself to thank Ricky for telling him to recruit Marcie. He would most certainly be having a much harder time doing all of this if not for her.

There came a trilling from the walls, and the three Dead Beats flew in to say good morning. “Hehe, hey guys,” Arthur laughed. The little pink spirits inadvertently tickled him as they wove around him and through his hair. “Yeah yeah, good morning. I’m glad to see you too. How was it last night? Quiet?” 

The Dead Beats nodded. 

“That’s a relief. What about the bad guys? Did you keep an eye on them like I asked?” 

The Dead Beats made angry faces and nodded. One of them made a few very discontent noises, and whatever they said made another one hiss in agreement.

“I know, I know. You want a piece of em’. You’ll get your chance when we make a run for it tomorrow night. I need you guys to be my backup, remember?”

The ghosts trilled excitedly at that, faces lighting up with jagged smiles. 

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it too,” Arthur admitted. And he smirked at the thought, in spite of himself.

It was strange. He had a reputation as being the grounding member of the Mystery Skulls. The “chill” one. The gentle one. So it felt weird to… hate someone so strongly. But he did. Maybe whatever that damn entity had put inside of Ricky to rot him from the inside out was seeping into Arthur somehow. He hoped not, but he supposed it would make sense, given that he was wearing a cursed man’s skin.  

Still - it might not be an entirely bad thing. In fact, knowing his own shortcomings, perhaps a sprinkle of ambition and a dash of rage were doing Arthur some good.

“Come on guys,” Arthur said, getting up. “We’ve got work to do.”

He couldn’t wait to see the looks on his opponents’ faces when everything they’d worked for crumbled at their feet. 

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

Hatecraft had taken his guests to a large, gothic lounge so they had a more comfortable place to talk. Save the double doors and high fireplace, the tall room was covered from wall to high-arched ceiling in overflowing bookshelves and paintings of monstrosities from Hatecraft’s books. All things considered, it felt very much like home to the Mystery Skulls. Throw in some magenta and a few heart and skull designs, and one could be fooled into thinking they were back at the mansion. 

The eight mystery solvers were seated on scattered furniture around the room, and Hatecraft and Ellison were in matching high-backed armchairs on either side of the fireplace in front of them. 

They’d finished telling their story several moments ago, and to say the least the two writers, so well known for their imaginary terrors, looked absolutely horrified upon being told about real ones. 

Finally Harlan blurted out, “Why the fuck haven’t you gone to the police?!” And it should be noted that Ellison seldom cursed and usually prided himself on a more “sophisticated” use of language. So suddenly dropping an F-bomb should tell you just how appalled he was.

“It’s just as we told you,” Velma said from her place on the couch, “because then it becomes a hostage situation.”

“That, and Crystal Cove’s police department is about as useless as a one-legged man at an ass-kicking contest,” Vivi added dryly, sitting cross-legged on the floor with Mystery in her lap.

“Our best and only real shot at getting Ricky and Marcie out unharmed is to do so right under Pericles’ beak. Which obviously is better said than done,” Lewis added from the chair next to her.

“And that’s why you have to remove that- thing at the University and not at the hospital?” H.P. asked. “Because that’s what he’d expect?”

“Rep,” Scooby nodded from his place at Shaggy’s feet.

“That, and we don’t want anything violent going down at a place full of doctors and vulnerable sick people,” Vivi added. 

“By the claws of Chloringor,” Hatecraft muttered, placing his head into his hands.  

“And who, might I ask, is going to be performing this supposed surgery? You kids certainly can’t!” Harlan argued. 

“We have someone in mind but haven’t brought this to them yet,” Daphne said. She was sitting on the arm of the couch beside Fred. “They have a lot more to lose than either of you should this go wrong and we thought their odds of saying yes would increase dramatically if we already had a location lined up.”

Hatecraft opened his mouth, but Ellison talked first. Loudly. “So let me get this straight! You’re asking H.P to risk his job, career, and possible jail time to break into a surgery that you don’t even have a surgeon for yet?”

“Like yeah, we are.” Shaggy said. “And like, we realize how much you’d be risking and like how unreasonable of an ask this is. But like… we’re all Ricky’s got. This is like the only plan we have. So we don’t exactly have like, any other options.”

“I’ll do it,” Hatecraft said before Ellison could go on another tirade. 

“WHAT?!” 

“Harlan,” H.P. said, firmly but with a touch of tenderness, “I know you speak out of concern for me… but this man could die if we don’t do something. For all the writing I’ve done about the monsters that lie just beyond the mortal veil… what kind of man would I be if I didn’t do something to stop the ones living among us?” 

“H.P… this is madness. And we haven’t even seen any proof that this crazy story is true!”

“I don’t need to see proof,” Hatecraft shrugged. “These kids have saved my life once and my career twice. They’re too smart and too honest to lie about something this serious, and I don’t see why they would make it up either. I know they wouldn’t seek to ruin me.”

“But-” 

“Harlan,” Mystery said, and all heads turned in his direction by the force of his tone. “Walk with me a moment?” And without waiting for confirmation, he hopped out of Vivi’s arms and slunk out of the room.

Harlan looked at H.P, then at the rest of their guests, and everyone including Vivi and Lewis merely shrugged, just as clueless as he was. So what else could he do but get up and follow the freaky talking dog? Mystery was waiting for him just outside the door, and once Harlan was at his side he started walking away, and Ellison followed. 

“Alright,” Harlan grumbled once they were quite a distance from the door, “what is it?”

“How much of your memory has come back?” Mystery asked.

“All of it - I think,” Harlan replied. “It’s just- still so peculiar. I don’t know how I could have forgotten something that important. It’s like something went into my head with a correction pen and left a bunch of blank spaces that I’m only now uncovering. The question is why?”

“It was their names,” Mystery said. “There’s a great deal of power attached to names. Dating back in folklore across various cultures and pantheons for thousands of years. As old as stories themselves. If Brad, Judy, Ricky, and Cassidy can be generalized into those kids who disappeared, then it’s easier to wipe them out of existence entirely. But once you give them names, you give them identity, and with identity comes power. Enough to break through whatever was keeping those memories suppressed.” 

“But how could I have generalized them?” Ellison asked. “I knew them. Not very well, but I knew them. I knew their families through close mutual friends.  How and why did I forget them to begin with?”

“‘Because something wicked wanted you to,’” Mystery replied. 

“That’s what that pink haired fellow said earlier. What’s that mean, anyway?”

“It means all those ghost stories about a curse on this town are true,” Mystery said. And he spun Harlan a tale that you should know already. About an entity, a curse, and four kids and a talking animal who were prophesied to break it.

“So, what?” Harlan scoffed. “You’re saying that’s what happened to the Original Mystery Incorporated? Some evil entity wanted them out of the picture because they were getting too close?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying happened,” Mystery nodded. 

“Oh for goodness sake! Then what about what the kids said about the former mayor dressed up as some freak, blackmailing them into disappearing?” 

“The Freak of Crystal Cove has everything to do with the curse,” Mystery corrected him. “Think about it, Harlan. You haven’t stayed in Crystal Cove for all of these twenty years - you’ve traveled all over the world. Where else on Earth have you seen apparently normal folk suddenly wake up and decide the answer to their problems is terrorizing their neighbors in monster costumes?”

“What’s your point?”

“That there are bigger things happening in Crystal Cove than you know. Things that are worth risking everything for. Supernatural things.”

“Oh please! How gullible do you think I am?” 

“Ha! Of all people I would expect you to be more open to such things,” Mystery chuckled. 

“Unlike Cape Cod and H.P., I know where the line is between fantasy and reality,” Harlan insisted. 

“Do you, now?” Mystery implored. “Because as I recall, your original genre of interest was solely creative nonfiction. But now, aren’t you famous for horror dystopia? Quite a sharp turn, don’t you think?”

“That’s not all I’ve written. And I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The tragedy, you liar. You were on the guest list that night, Harlan. You were there.”

“It was another lunatic in a costume-” 

“That’s all most people saw,” Mystery interrupted him. “But you saw something else too that night. Didn’t you?” 

Harlan froze dead in his tracks. There was- there was no way. He’d never told anyone about the other thing he’d seen that night. Who would have believed him? Those poor families were going through so much- he hadn’t wanted to make anything worse with his nonsense. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple. “H-how did you… I never…”

“I saw you too, Harlan.” But there was something different about Mystery’s voice. Hadn’t it been coming from… lower to the ground a moment ago?

“You were there,” Harlan realized. And he turned around- Only to be met by a pair of big red eyes shining at him through the dark. 

“Yes,” The kitsune rumbled, “Yes I was.”

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

There was a song playing somewhere, distantly. Gently kissing his eardrums.

“Baby there's a dancefloor up in Heaven, touch the sky We can dance there all night. Baby there's a dancefloor up in Heaven, touch the sky We can dance there for forever!”

He felt so warm, and so heavy, and so comfortable. Yet the stiffness in his limbs and the rumbles of a hungry stomach gently pulled him into wakefulness. Ricky’s eyelids fluttered open, and at once he was wide awake, his heart caught in his throat. 

“Tell me I'm not dreaming, When a kiss from you is all it takes to turn me into stone. Your love is the sweetest-

Was he dreaming? 

No - his most recent memories were coming back to him. So unless the whole day had been one big dream borne from his wistful thinking- 

Cassidy. 

She was alive. She was here. She was… 

Breathtaking. 

“You're perfect, you're my dynamite, you're so original. How do you do it? When we're dancing, it's magnetic Is this too good to be true?

Angel was sleeping on the other side of the sectional, and her sleeping face was not two feet away from his own. She was curled up on her side, head resting on her arm, a blanket draped over her. But by the way the fabric fell he could see her every curve. The pink flames in the fireplace had cast the entire room in flickering sunset orange, and the way it struck the shine of her beautiful dark skin- no artist could ever hope to replicate it. But if he were ever to spend money on art, he’d pay handsomely to see someone try.

She had never looked so much like an angel as she did now.

“I know a place where we can go Where the music is to die for! “Baby there's a dancefloor up in Heaven, touch the sky We can dance there all night! Baby there's a dancefloor up in Heaven, touch the sky We can dance there for forever!

Ricky’s heart was thudding inside his chest, and he felt all the blood in his body rush to his face. This wasn’t- well- this was hardly proper, wasn’t it? There was so much between them and she probably (wisely) still didn’t trust him- 

Which begged the question of why she was sleeping right beside him. And come to think of it he didn’t remember laying down either. What was the last thing he remembered? 

Mystery. 

“Baby there's a dancefloor up in Heaven, touch the sky We can dance there all night! Baby there's a dancefloor up in Heaven, touch the sky We can dance there for forever!

That’s right. We were waiting for Mystery. He was going to tell us how he knew us. Ricky must’ve closed his eyes “just for a second” and dozed off. But that still didn’t explain how and why Cassidy had wound up asleep too. And how long had they been asleep? What time even was it?

“Dancing for forever Dancing for forever Keep dancing for forever… 

That was when Ricky spotted two sheets of stationary on the table - notes from the others. The first one was from the kids. 

Mr.  Ricky and Angel,  Mystery Skulls explained why you konked out in their letter. Crazy stuff right? We know you’ll prob be mad about it when you wake up but in our defense it was all Mystery. Hope you slept well and that you feel better when you wake up.  Btw - All of us feel bad we didn’t notice how sleepy you were, Ricky - sorry. • ᴖ • And sorry about the sleeping spell Cassidy - that was all Mystery’s idea. (☉__☉”) Anyway - we went out with MS to make some preparations for Arthur’s plan. We’ll tell you how it went when we get back! Also Scooby said he’s craving Clam Cabin so we were thinking of bringing food back to the mansion and pigging out instead of making Lewis cook again. That’ll be fun! •ᴗ• (We’ll probably bring back food from somewhere else too tho if you’re not down for shellfish - Daphne’s allergic.) Hope you both feel better when you wake up!  - Fred, Velma, Daphne, Shaggy, Scooby

When he finished reading the note, it left Ricky feeling warm and fuzzy inside. It read as if they… were looking forward to seeing him again. The corners of his mouth turned upwards against his will. But even so, those sweet feelings quickly turned sour. 

He was grateful that they were being so kind to him. Really - he was. But that doubtful little voice was quick to remind him that they were only being nice because they needed something from him: he was in Shaggy’s body. And as soon as their souls were back in their proper vessels everything was going to get awkward again, and he would be subtly or not-so-subtly pushed away. He didn’t fault them for it, by virtue of… how he was. And of course everything he’d done. And besides - he was used to it. But still… as selfish as he’d been already, maybe he could be selfish for just a little bit longer, and pretend that their sweet words meant something more than that. 

Ricky carefully tucked the kids’ note behind the other one, which must be from the Mystery Skulls, and started reading.

Ricky & Cassidy,  R - you woke up this morning before the potion you took last night could run its full course, so it put you back to sleep. Mystery knew it was going to happen and stalled until it took effect on purpose. The rest of us had no idea so don’t shoot the messager. To be fair tho - it was gonna happen no matter what anyone did. You should wake up when it wears off @ about 1:00. C - Mystery thought you shouldn’t come into town with us in case OG Mystery Inc sees you. Ur supposed to be dead - remember? That & you hadn’t slept in over 24 hrs so u needed the rest. And he didnt want to argue w u abt it so he put a sleeping spell on you. Again - HIS idea, NOT ours. You should be up @ about 3. We & Mystery Inc went out to talk to some allies for Arthur’s plan. Should b back by 5. Will tell you about it when we get back. Leftovers & snacks in fridge for lunch if/when you get hungry, & if you need help with anything ask Dead Beats or suits of armor. Avoid painting ghosts and PLEASE do not explore. You are in a REAL haunted house - Plz use common sense. Hope you slept good & feel better after your nap. Sorry again about Mystery & his meddling. He says he won’t apologize but owes you a story.  See you then!  - The Mystery Skulls 💀

Any warm and fuzzy feelings the letter may have inspired was quickly banished from his mind by the immense irritation he was feeling towards Mystery. Of course it shouldn’t have taken him that long to go get a book. That sneaky, clever, slippery son of a- … whatever! He’d give that ridiculous beast a good scolding when he got back! Still feeling drowsy, Ricky put the papers back on the table and made himself comfortable again. By that time, the music drifting through the house had changed songs, but Ricky was hardly listening to it. And yet, as he brooded over Mystery and his damn meddling, he found his anger… dissipating. 

Knowing what he did now, the kitsune was over a thousand years old and had been a guardian spirit for centuries. To Mystery, all humans were so short-lived that they were all children compared to him. In fact that’s probably exactly what Mystery saw: a pair of drowsy toddlers who needed a nap to get through the rest of the day. 

Not that he was exactly thrilled about being mothered by a giant fox, but at this point he didn’t have much choice in the matter. At least Mystery was (mostly) more nurturing than controlling in the way he did it. 

Unlike a certain someone.

With a sigh, Ricky rolled onto his side. And in spite of himself, he admired the view. 

God, she was so beautiful. 

Cassidy’s red lips were slightly parted in her sleep and the subtle furrow always present between her brows was gone. Ricky had never noticed it before, but saw its absence now. Her chest rose and fell with every slow, deep breath and her slack fingers were curled upwards in such a delicate, elegant way. It had been over a decade since the last time Ricky had seen her so at peace. And maybe it made him every bit the greedy, selfish bastard he knew he was. But he wanted that for her. And he wanted to be there to see it.

The guilt that had been eating Ricky alive from the moment he’d learned of Cassidy’s “death” had lessened. But it hadn’t entirely gone away - and it probably never would. She survived, and Ricky would gladly spend the rest of his days repaying the universe for that miracle. But she’d been hurt. She’d nearly died. Because of him. And he was never going to make that up to her. 

They were like celestial bodies, the two of them. Without the other they’d go hurling off into space. And yet from the moment they’d reunited five years ago, a sort of gravity seemed to hold them together. Or maybe, even after a decade apart, that connection had never truly been severed. Not touching - no. Never connecting. But trapped in a perpetual dance, each revolving around the other. Always seeing. Always wanting. But they’d hurt each other in so many ways. If they were different people, that red string connecting their fates probably would have been snapped a long time ago. By hurt. By life. By love found elsewhere. 

And yet. 

And yet. 

As hard as he tried to ignore it, because he didn’t deserve it, he knew in his heart: I want.

I want I want I want I want I want.

You could have her, something else was telling him. Haven’t you suffered enough? Been alone for long enough? They will abandon you once they have their friends back as they were. And you will be alone again. You think they care about you? After everything you’ve done? You wretched, unloveable thing? But it doesn’t have to be that way. You could have her, just as you once did. All you need to do is-

“Shut up,” Ricky muttered quietly. He’d curled in on himself as those thoughts persisted. Clamped his hands over his ears in an attempt to block them out, but they were coming from inside him. They sounded like him too - almost indistinguishable from his own thoughts. Almost. But now… 

Now, Arthur’s words were echoing in his memory. ‘It’s more difficult to manipulate someone who’s aware they’re being manipulated than someone who doesn’t.’

“You’ve been found out,” He murmured. Maybe to no one. But those thoughts- they weren’t his own. “-And I’m not going to let you use me to hurt any more than I already have.”

Silence. 

Then-

Fool. You really think you could ever be free of HIM?!

That voice! It sounded so clear that- it might not have come from inside Ricky’s head this time. 

That was when the house began to shake and it was not Ricky’s imagination! He opened his eyes and sat up to find that the walls were shimmering pink. Furniture and items bounced, clattered, and shifted against the shaking floor. The fire roared, flames jumping and leaping out of the hearth all the way up to the ceiling. Ricky yelped with fright and dashed off of the couch and across the floor to hunker down beside Cassidy. Distantly, he thought he could hear the painting ghosts and Dead Beats moaning and shrieking from elsewhere and the clanging of armor and heavy footsteps. Rumbling, clanging, and the sound of breaking glass. Ricky’s hands slammed over his ears to block out the cacophony of anger!

Then like a subsiding earthquake, the rumbling slowed down, then stopped altogether. When Ricky looked up, everything was just as it had been. And most importantly: that evil presence, whatever it had been, was gone. 

“What the hell-” Ricky muttered to himself, but the answer came to him almost as soon as the question left his mouth: The house. Lewis’ haunted mansion and its plethora of supernatural defenses. Acting on their Master’s will, they had banished the intruder. What that had been was another question entirely. But whatever it was, it wasn't good - and Ricky didn’t think it was a resident of the mansion either. He would have to tell the others about this. 

With the immediate threat gone, Ricky’s eyes turned to the thing that mattered most. Mystery’s spell must have been strong - even through all the commotion, Cassidy hadn’t so much as stirred. Speaking of which: he had sort of put his arm over her to hold her still and calm his own trembling. His face burning, he was quick to snatch himself away and respectfully retreat back to his side of the couch. 

Then there came cooing noises from the walls. And through the air like wisps of smoke, in slithered at least a dozen Dead Beats. Some of them coming up at the rear were still clearly perturbed by whatever they had presumably just helped chase off, if their suspicious glancing about and hissing were anything to go by. But the rest, having sensed his distress, were looking at him with sad, sympathetic expressions. “Hey guys,” Ricky smiled at them. “Thanks for having my back.”

The Dead Beats made some sad sounds as they surrounded him, and Ricky quickly found himself overwhelmed. “Wait- hold on now-” But every single one seemed intent on reaching him. They piled into his lap, and slithered around his legs, waist, and shoulders until Ricky ended up leaning back absolutely buried in warm, airy spirits that were purring soothingly like a mountain of house cats. 

“Oh crap,” he grumbled, even as he wriggled to get comfortable. “Well- this could be worse.”

…And for some reason, the universe decided to interpret his snarky comment as a wish. 

There came the sound of a ringing telephone from somewhere off in the manor. It rang, and rang… and then for some reason it started getting louder. And not ten seconds later, a pair of Dead Beats flew into the room carrying a vintage and rather gothic telephone between them.

Ricky quickly reached out and took the handset from its port to quiet the ringing, then put the transmitter and receiver to his mouth and ear and said, “Hello?”

“Ricky! Hey man, it’s Lewis. Good to hear you up.”

“Yeah, I woke up just a bit ago. I got your notes - sorry for falling asleep on you.” 

“Eh, that’s not your fault dude. You’re a first-timer when it comes to magic. So uh- speaking of ‘a bit ago,’ did something… happen? At the house just now? I just felt this huge power surge.”

“Yeah - actually it did.”

“Everyone alright?” Lewis asked. 

“I think so. Cassidy slept through it and I’m not hurt. As for the rest of the house… I haven’t left this room yet, but everything seems fine. Anything that moved or broke fixed itself, and most of the Dead Beats came in a few minutes later and are… hanging out?” He glanced at the ghosts, still swarmed all over him like a big blanket.

“Good. Mystery and I both felt it and we were worried. So… what happened?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but I think it was your ‘security system,’” Ricky explained. “I had just woken up and read your letters, and I was thinking about… stuff. When I noticed my thoughts were taking a really steep turn and it kind of occurred to me that… they weren’t mine?...”

The other end of the line was quiet for so long while Ricky explained that near the end he was starting to worry the line had gone dead without him noticing. But finally, Lewis asked, “And that presence is gone now, right?”

“I think so. I don't know how to describe it but the whole room felt… heavier? Darker? I don’t know how to describe it. But it’s not like that anymore so yes - I think it’s gone.” 

“You said the Dead Beats are hanging out with you. What are they doing exactly?” 

“Well-” Ricky stuck the phone into the mass of ghosts, hoping Lewis could hear all the purring. Then he put it back to his ear. “Did you hear that?” 

“Yeah - I did.”

“They’re kind of… all over me, making that noise.”

“Are they pulsing in any way? Look at the way they’re glowing, and the hearts on their chests.” 

“They are, now that you mention it.”

“Yep - I know what they’re doing.”

“Well, what’re they doing?”

“Giving you a ghost bath, basically. Whatever that thing was, they can still feel its residual energy on you. So they’re washing it away with their own positive energy. If that negative energy was left as is, at best it would probably leave you in a bad mood. At worst, that entity could come back and use it as a foothold to try getting in.” 

“Wait- ‘get in’ as in…” 

“Potentially try to possess you.” 

“Oh. Uh… shit. So… what was that thing anyway?”

“No idea. But whatever it was, it most certainly wasn’t one of my ghosts and I wouldn’t be surprised if it had something to do with the curse. Mystery, Vivi, and I will investigate when we get back. For now, have the Dead Beats stick by you.”

“Alright then…” Ricky conceded, not feeling nearly as secure as he had a minute ago. “So… how are things on your end? What’re you up to?”

“Vivi’s driving, and I am terrified. Pray for me- ow!” 

Ricky snorted at the sound of Lewis being thwacked on the other end of the line. Followed by some aggressively playful banter in Spanish and Japanese that had Ricky biting his lip to suppress his laughter. “-Anyway! Ricky, say hi.”

“Hi, Vivi.” Ricky chuckled, then his tone turned dry when he said, “Hello Mystery.”

Vivi’s muffled voice came through the line, as though she wasn’t speaking directly into the transmitter. “Hi Ricky! Glad you’re up!” 

Then came Mystery. “Hello Ricky! I’m glad you’re alright, but I’m not apologizing!”

Ricky scoffed. “Well fuck you too.” 

The kitsune was cackling in the background when Lewis put the phone back to his ear. “-Anyway, we just left H.P Hatecraft’s house.”

“The writer? What for?” 

“It was Velma’s idea. Hatecraft’s our way into Darrow University tomorrow night.” And Lewis explained Hatecraft’s role in the plan (and also apparently Harlan Ellison’s too.)

“And I assume you know who is going to be cutting that thing out of me?” Ricky asked once he was done. 

“Daphne’s sister - Daisy. She’s some kind of surgeon, though Daphne didn’t specify what kind. Her fiance however, is apparently a neurosurgeon.”

Ricky blinked dumbly for a moment while he processed what Lewis had just said. 

A neurosurgeon. 

As in a health professional. Who specified in surgical interventions. Of the nervous system. 

Like… removing a small capsule that kept releasing a neurotoxin within centimeters of his spinal cord?

“What are the odds?” Ricky finally said. 

“Right??? That’s what we said!” Lewis agreed. “But.”

“There’s always a ‘but,’ isn’t there?” Ricky sighed. 

“It does seem that way, doesn’t it? Anyway - the catch is that Daphne and Daisy apparently don’t get on well. Like even in comparison to her relationship with her other sisters. And to top it off I couldn’t quote the specific law but we’re about 90% sure this is gonna be hella illegal. At best, both Daisy and her betrothed could lose her medical licenses if they get caught or god forbid something goes wrong. At worst, they might face jail time.”

“I can stop that from happening. It would not be difficult,” Ricky said. A statement - not an offer or a question. 

“Good luck convincing them of that. It would be one thing if Mr. E was to go meet with them to make this request in person. They’re going to need to take the word of a bunch of meddling kids and their weird talking dogs. We would be offering to come and get you for this, buuut…”

“I’m Shaggy right now, so what good would it do? Got it.”

“Whiiich… brings me to the point.”

“Out with it.”

“If and when it comes to that, can I show them Arthur’s flashdrive?”

Ricky’s mouth went dry. 

“Just- They’re doctors,” Lewis explained. “They took an oath. And once they actually see a patient in pain, they may be honor-bound to do something about it. Or, as Daphne suggested, it may become a matter of pride - a challenge just to prove they could. Either way ends with the result we want.”

Ricky cleared his throat. “Yeah- yeah. Makes sense I mean they’d probably need to see it anyway to know what they were treating right? Like it’s not as if they could just take your word for it.”

“That, too.” Lewis said. And the concern in his voice just made Ricky’s heart pound. That thing’s words echoed in his head. You think they care about you? And the demons in his own head joined in. They’ll be so disgusted once they see it. They won’t be able to look you in the eye!

“All of us don’t have to see it,” Lewis said. As if he could hear those thoughts clear through the phone. “It’s too valuable and too important to leave in the hands of strangers unsupervised. So at least one of us, or a few of us, are going to have to see the footage. But not all of us have to. We can stand outside while it’s playing.”

Ricky took a few deep breaths. “Okay,” he sniffed. “Okay then. So- you want me to pick who?”

“I mean you’re kind of the only one with the right to. I can only imagine how personal it is. So yeah. It’s no rush. We’re still about ten minutes away. You can think about it for a bit if you need to.”

So Ricky held the handset away from his mouth, pursed his lips, looked up at the ceiling, and thought about it.

Not the Mystery Skulls. Not yet, at least. Not that he didn’t trust them, but he hadn’t known them long enough. The kids on the other hand… especially-

“Velma,” he said into the phone at last. “She’s seen the worst of me already so at this point… but- you know what? Nevermind. All of them can see it if they choose. Mystery Incorporated, I mean. It wouldn’t be fair to put all of that on Velma, Fred’s parents are going to be in those videos, Daphne’s sister is the one who’s going to cut me open, Shaggy’s stuck in this body-swap mess, and he and Scooby are kind of a package deal. And after everything that’s happened… I think all five of them have more than earned the right to see it. Or not. Whichever they choose. But if somebody has to, then I would rather it be them.”

“Are you sure, man?” Lewis asked. “I mean it’s asking a lot for you to let one. But all five of them?” 

“Please don’t question it,” Ricky said. “That’s my decision and I really don’t want to argue or explain myself.”

“Okay. I’m sorry - I’ll back off.”

“And… sorry for getting touchy and not letting you see it. It’s just-” 

“Dude! No. Nobody would blame you for that. I mean we’ve known each other barely over a day. I totally read you loud and clear.”

“Thank you, Lewis,” Ricky sighed. 

“So… you gonna be okay?” Again. That concern.

“Ask me again tonight,” Ricky sighed. 

“Okay… we’re going to be at Daisy’s soon anyway. So I’m going to have to let you go. See you later, Ricky.”

“Goodbye Lewis… and good luck. Thanks again - for doing all of this for me.” 

“It’s no trouble. It’s the right thing to do.”

“Well… thanks. Goodbye.”

When Ricky set the handset back into its port with a click, the phone disappeared in a puff of pink flame.

TA-DA! Still alive!!! Thank you to everyone who waited so patiently for the next chapter of my little fic. I know I said last time that I didn't want to make you wait another three months for the next chapter buuuut that ended up happening anyway. I just completed my English minor and literally all of my classes last semester were English Creative Writing classes, so as you can imagine I was doing a LOT of reading and writing with ZERO time for writing fanfiction. But right now I have the summer off of school so I've had lots of time to catch up! Ellison and Hatecraft have joined the party! These are two characters I never paid a tremendous amount of attention to, but Tumblr has given me a newfound respect for them. And their less-than-low-key gayness. Which made it into this fic NOT low-key at all. Lol I hope I did these new characters justice, and you will be seeing them again. I unfortunately didn't have the time to create any fanart for this chapter and didn't want to make you all wait any longer to find out what happens next in the story. I'm sure most of you know how much time and effort it takes to create fanworks, and I can't promise fanart for every chapter. (Veeery much looking forward to it if anyone posts any of their own in the future tho. 👀) This story, as usual, keeps surprising me with just how many words it takes to write. So my original plan for this one chapter got divided into two chapters instead. Speaking of which: Chapter 25 is almost complete and to the last long wait it up to you, I intend to post chapter 25 next Sunday. And God willing, you might get Chapter 26 the Sunday after that, but don't take that word as gospel. As for Chater 27? HA! We'll get there when we get there. Speaking of Chapter 25, as most of you know from my recent poll, the original chapter song/title for this chapter was originally going to be something else before it got changed. This happened because this chapter ended up being substantially longer than originally planned and also because I wanted to put all of the songs with heaven/hell motifs close together. Just to keep the theme going. And 'Heaven' was the last obvious one. Sorry about the poll causing confusion, but here's a treat: Unless something drastic changes (which it might, who knows?) The Chapter Song/Title of One of Us Chapter 25 is "Erase Me (Original Demo)" and the title of Chapter 26 is going to be "Erase me." That's all for now! Chapter 24 of One of Us should be posted to ao3 sometime tomorrow.

Chapters 1-22 of 'One of Us' are presently posted on Archive of Our Own!

[amelikos]

Not sure if Sango and Onyx will still be around during the Entei and Rayquaza battles, but they've been ordered to monitor and report on progress from the RVT and so far they have nothing to report on, so they could very well be spying in the background during the upcoming episodes.

At most, 7 or 8 episodes left in this chapter after January ends.

[ifmywishescametrue]

sometimes i try to strongarm my adhd but i fear it's much too even of a match up

[sweetearthandnorthernsky]

to places deep (where dark things sleep)

Fic rating: Teen

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Fandom: The Lord of the Rings Online, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien

Relationships: OC & OC, Saelinriel of Gondor & Morinel Isfin, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added (platonic)

Characters: Saelinriel of Gondor - OC, Morinel Isfin - OC, Original Characters, Bósi (Lord of the Rings Online) Brogur (Lord of the Rings Online) Bori (Lord of the Rings Online), Bróin (Lord of the Rings Online), Other Character Tags to Be Added

Word Count: 5,911

Chapter Count: 3/23

Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Original Character-centric, References to Book: The Silmarillion - J. R. R. Tolkien, Eldritch Gwathnor (Lord of the Rings Online), Spoilers, specifically for the Lord of the Rings Online volume 2 (first half ish but still), Other Additional Tags to Be Added

With Mordirith and Amarthiel and Mordrambor defeated and Narmeleth-once-Amarthiel laid to rest, Saelinriel begins her journey homeward from the valley of Imladris. However, on her way, she comes across a company of dwarves seeking to restore their home – Khazad-Dum. Perhaps it is unwise, but she finds herself understanding the ache of homesickness, and decides to do what she can to help.

read on here ao3.

[coridallasmultipass]

Goddddd, Dorothy is waifu for laifu, I s2g. Can't wait to see what conditional saviour bullshit she pulls from this stunt.

[acourtofquestions]

Dont be angry, Finnula said. Be smart.

[arbuthnotblob]

Lance Week 23, Day 2: Mentor, Part 2 Onboarding at a new job is so hard! You've got to learn who all your co-workers are, figure out the ropes, try not to fall into the ocean from a truly inadvisable height...

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

[redgoldblue]

rules: post the first sentence of your last ten fics. if you haven’t written ten fics, share as many first-sentences as you have.

i was tagged by @actingcamplibrarian ❤️ 

1. Callen sees Ilyse the moment he opens his door, and almost shuts it again and resolves himself to living the rest of his life indoors.

2. It’s Danny that drives Steve to the hospital when they get back, because SEAL Team Nine immediately disperse to wherever SEAL teams go when they’re not SEALing, and Joe is patching up the others at HQ, and because, well, of course it’s Danny that drives Steve to the hospital.

3. Danny’s pulling idly on Steve’s earlobe one evening when he asks, “What’re these?”

4. An expanse of stars spread out before Jim’s gaze, the deceptively thin material that curved around a full wall of the viewing deck barely visible unless one focused on it, and certainly not obstructive of the view.

5. “Hey, help me hang this photo,” were, Danny thought, innocent enough opening words.

6. The steady, deafening knocking didn’t let up at Danny’s groan. 

7. The first time, it’s a knife in the desk drawer.

8. “See, the thing is,” Starsky says, leans over the pool table, and neatly breaks the racked balls.

9. Hutch is shaking in Starsky’s arms, trembling fast and minutely, like a guitar with its strings wound so tight that every touch threatens to snap them.

10. Huggy, with a towel thrown over his shoulder and as harried an expression as he ever got, met Hutch at the door to the Pits.

Tagging @faorism, @magical-friends, @bookwhimses, @gallantrejoinder and anyone else reading this who cares to do it

[theconfusedartist]

Hm

Somehow, despite my meticulous research and information retaining skills, I've been writing Desmond’s DOB as 1984 instead of 1987

I've been using this date and Alex's DoB to figure out when things happen in the timeline. I already got screwed over once when I found out Alex was born in 1979 and Dana was 9 years younger, and had to change a bunch of things around to make them fit the original canon, but this?? this might be (strained squeaky voice) a small problem

[counselorssoapbox]

Polishing the manuscript.

Polishing the manuscript,Photo courtesy of Pixabay.com Polishing the manuscript. By David Joel Miller, writer, blogger, and mental health professional. My journey from writing something to making it readable. It’s a long process with many steps to transform that finished manuscript into a book that’s published and available for purchase. Each one of these steps has a learning curve. I’m learning…

[soaps-mohawk]

Summary: Task Force 141 operates successfully without an omega, at least that’s what Price has been saying since its formation. Two alphas and two betas balance the pack just fine, and they have the numbers to prove it.

It works for a while, until the Omega Initiative is born and the 141 find themselves having to adjust to the sudden addition of an omega to their pack. Fresh out of an institute, you’re hardly fit for their secretive, dangerous world, or so Price thinks. 

As each member of the team gets closer to you, things begin to come to light, not only about you but about the decision to force you into their lives.

Maybe, just maybe, Price was wrong and the 141 does need an omega after all. 

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader, Price x Gaz, Ghost x Soap

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, NSFW content, explicit smut, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), knotting, biting, claiming, mating cycles, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, age differences, military inaccuracies, canon typical violence, blood, weapons, language, no use of Y/N, brief torture, hurt/comfort, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.

Chapters containing smut are marked with a *

Updates are posted on the weekends, either Saturday or Sunday PST

This fic can also be found on my Ao3 -> HERE

I will no longer be using a taglist for this fic, please follow THIS BLOG and turn on notifications

**This fic is currently in progress**

NAVIGATION PAGE

CRCB DIRECTORY

Part 1 - The Omega

Chapter 1 - The Introduction

Chapter 2 - Adjustments

Chapter 3 - Speak Their Language

Chapter 4 - You Can Be Useful

Chapter 5 - What I Want *

Part 2 - The Bond

Chapter 6 - One Step Closer *

Chapter 7 - Sweet Strawberry

Chapter 8 - The Thing About Ghost

Chapter 9 - Save Me

Chapter 10 - Treat Me Gently*

Part 3 - The First Heat

Chapter 11 - It's Coming

Chapter 12 - Fire In My Veins*

Chapter 13 - Piece Me Back Together*

Chapter 14 - The Aftermath*

Part 4 - The New Normal

Chapter 15: Bonnie*

Chapter 16: Big Brown Eyes *

Chapter 17: Alone

Chapter 18: Don't Let Me Go

Chapter 19: Daddy Issues

Chapter 20: The New Normal *

Chapter 21: Crime and Punishment *

Chapter 22: I Won't Be Gentle

Part 5 - A Pack of Five

Chapter 23: Regrets

Chapter 24: The Last First Time *

Chapter 25: Animals *

Chapter 26: Fuck *

Chapter 27: Drown In It *

Chapter 28: Two Is Company, Three Is A Party *

Chapter 29: There's Something Wrong With My Omega

Part 6 - The Tragedy

Chapter 30: Butterfly's Wings

Chapter 31: Forced Proximity

Chapter 32: The Tragedy

Chapter 33: Ghosts of the Past

Chapter 34: The Whole Truth

Part 7 - The Aftermath

Chapter 35: Threads

Chapter 36: To The Sea

Chapter 37: The Silence

Chapter 38: Shattered

Chapter 39: Life

Part 8 - The Next Chapter

Chapter 40: Where Do We Go From Here

Chapter 41: Revenge

Chapter 42: Comfort and Joy

Chapter 43: Lies

Chapter 44: Little Shit

Title card made by the beautiful @141wh0re

[alphashley14]

One of Us

A Scooby Doo: Mystery Incorporated/Mystery Skulls Crossover

<Prev Next>

Chapter 23

Hellbent

“Shitshitshit- LEWIIIISSS!!!” Arthur shouted from the driver’s seat! He turned the steering wheel frantically to and fro as he struggled to regain control of the van careening across the desert. The squealing wheels sent orange dust flying, shrouding the monstrous cattle around them in clouds of ginger. And that same dust invaded the open back of the vehicle, even as the corpse of the dead skull cow tumbled out of the back, slamming into its’ brothers behind it, and Vivi Yukino struggled to get the back doors shut once more.

It occurred to Cassidy to help her, but her battered body protested and it was all she could do to keep herself from tumbling out of the back of the vehicle after the beast. The dust was all-encompassing. Every breath burned as it invaded her lungs, and she had to shut her eyes tight to keep the fine particles out of them. She held on tight to her shotgun and to the bars of one of the shelves in the back of the van, struggling to keep herself as still and secure as she could.

Then there was a flash of pink light behind her eyelids. And suddenly, abruptly, unnaturally even, the van lurched to right itself and there came the telltale sound of the back doors slamming shut. Then Cassidy dared take a breath, she realized the air had become clean. Her eyes fluttered open, and the sight that greeted her didn’t make any sense. 

The interior of the van had completely transformed. The purple fabric upholstery had been replaced with bright carmine leather, and the rest of the van’s interior, which had previously been oranges and deep reds, was now entirely black with tasteful gothic touches of purple and bright magenta.

And this did not seem to concern the other occupants of the vehicle in the slightest. Vivi leaned back against the now-redwood shelf and breathed a sigh of relief, wiping orange dirt and bits of yellow gore off of her face with a spare towel. (Not that it did any good for the rest of her.) “Thanks, Lewis. Good catch.” 

Wait. Lewis! As soon as Vivi said it, Cassidy realized that Lewis was no longer in the van. But again, the Mystery Skulls didn’t look the slightest bit perturbed about this. And no sooner was Angel sitting up to investigate, any question she could have asked was answered with another flash of pink. 

“WHAT IN THE GODDAMN-”

“Ah, shit. Forgot about you…” The skeleton that had appeared beside Vivi sighed. 

“I- WHAT THE- YOU-” Cassidy stammered, bewildered beyond words.

“This is Lewis,” Vivi said in a complete deadpan. “You met him a minute ago. Long story short he’s my boyfriend, he’s dead but didn’t exactly go anywhere, so now we solve ghost stories… with a ghost.”

“Not even the weirdest thing we have going on here,” Lewis sighed, and in a flare of pink fire that engulfed him from head to toe, the ghost transformed back into a handsome teen in a vest and ascot - with not a speck of dust or gore on him.

“We’re happy to have him with us,” Arthur added from the front seat. “Lewis is a really great guy and you should definitely not be scared of him.”

“The hell I shouldn’t!” Cassidy strongly disagreed. 

“Alright then, be scared of him. But ya gotta ask yourself: are you more scared of him or Bessie the murder bull and his five thousand friends?” 

And almost on cue there came a particularly loud MOOOO from the Devil’s Herd, still stampeding after them. 

Cassidy opened her mouth, but immediately closed it. She pursed her lips, then after a moment she came to a conclusion: “Bessie. Definitely Bessie. Fuck that.” And she began to aggressively brush and flick as much of the blood and chunks off of herself as she could. Vivi handed her a clean towel too, which helped.

“Amen,” Arthur agreed. 

Then the dog, who had gone very quiet up until now, spoke up. “Lewis, get ready to open the passenger side door. We’re approaching the hive.” 

The atmosphere in the van immediately shifted (except for Cassidy, who was out of the loop and along for the ride), the trap returning to the front of their minds. 

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

“The trap?” Fred exclaimed with glee. 

“Yes Fred,” Cassidy sighed fondly, “the trap.”

“What kind of trap?” He asked, tapping his fingers together and bouncing lightly in his chair, a giant grin on his face. 

“A big, crazy, stupidly dangerous trap that I still can’t believe worked,” Cassidy groaned, some of that old anxiety returning just at the memory of it. 

“I’mma be totally honest with you: if we didn’t have magic it probably wouldn’t have,” Vivi shrugged. 

“Would 100% not recommend for your own investigations,” Mystery agreed. 

“-And if you do attempt it for one of your own mysteries, you’d better hope you don’t survive because I will kill you,” Cassidy growled. 

Ricky knew that tone. “Fred. She means it!” 

But the master trapper was hardly listening. “Less lecturing, more trapping!” 

And with another exasperated yet fond sigh, the storytelling continued.

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

Cassidy had absolutely no idea what she’d been (quite literally) pulled into, but she was about to find out.

“You have the flare gun at the ready, right Vivi?” Asked Arthur. 

“Got em’ right here.”

“And the dynamite?”

“That too.”

“And Lewis? Remember, you have to get out not long after Mystery.” 

“Just tell me when,” the ghost said.

“It won’t be long. The hive’s just ahead! Get ready!” 

Cassidy craned her neck to look between the two front seats, and she could see them approaching a system of canyons and gorges. They had just entered them when the song on the radio changed to an intense set of crescendoing, pulsing chords. 

“Hellbent? Oh Hell yeah! Now this is ‘fuck shit up’ music!” Vivi cheered. 

“It really is the best car chase song,” Lewis agreed. 

“Easy for you to say,” Arthur gulped. And Cassidy got the distinct impression that there was a story there, but she didn’t exactly have any time to dwell on it. Because that was when the shaking ground beneath the van’s tires began to tremor. “Here they come!” Shouted Arthur! 

And that was when Hell poured out of the mountainside. Like a mob of angry ants, the Devil’s Herd came from every cave, crack, and crevice. But instead of driving away, the van turned and began to drive around the perimeter of the hive, stirring it up even more, prompting the cattle to come out after them. 

“Lewis! NOW!” The dog shouted! And by itself, the door swung open and the dog leapt out of the van with a flash of red light.

I’ve been Hellbent, baby, 

Cassidy shouted after him. “DON’T! DID HE JUST- OH MY GOD!” 

Hellbent on lovin’ you all day long,

“Don’t worry about him, Vivi said dismissively. “He’s a professional.”

Hellbent on drugs ‘cause it turned you on,

“-Not to mention he’s more dangerous than anything he’ll find in there,” Arthur added. 

Don’t know what else to do,

“But-” 

Mmm~

“I’ll tell you what. You want to be helpful? Get in the front seat and start throwing sticks,” Vivi said. 

I’ve been Hellbent, baby, 

“Alright,” Angel groaned as she heaved herself between the seats and onto the passenger side. 

Hellbent on makin’ you love me, too, Even though not what I’m supposed to do, I don’t give a damn,  Mmm~

“I’m up here, but I don’t know what you mean by- OHMYGOD!” And Angel had never in her life rolled down a window so quickly as when Vivi Yukino suddenly dropped a lit stick of dynamite into her hand. The BOOM that followed after she threw it brought even more angry cows out after them. 

“WHAT IN THE- OHSHIT-” (She chucked yet another stick out the window just as fast as Vivi handed it to her) “-HELL?!”

“We’ve got to get as many of them out of the hive-” BOOM! “-and to the trap as possible!” Vivi shouted over the wind as she took another stick out of a box, held it out for Lewis to light, and passed it to Cassidy - who promptly threw it out the window, much to the displeasure of the cows. “Not to mention the fewer of them are in there, the easier Mystery’s job is.” And as soon as she finished talking there came another explosion as the stick Cassidy had just tossed went off.

Immediately after, over the roar of the wind surging in through the open window, there came a sound from the radio like the cocking of a shotgun, and the song launched itself into a call-and-response verse. 

I’ve been hellbent, baby  (I’ve been hellbent, baby)

“Aaand the most effective way to do that-”

It’s been too long, baby  (It’s been too long, baby)

“-is to make them mad,” Arthur added just as loudly as Vivi. But unlike his friends he was sweating bullets and looked even closer to a panic attack than Cassidy.

My eyes wide shut (My eyes wide shut)

“Well a little bit of damn warning would have been nice!” Cassidy retorted, throwing out yet another stick. 

And I feel your touch (I feel your touch)

“Would love to but we’re on a time crutch,” Vivi disagreed over the resulting BOOM.

I’ll prove you wrong! (I’ll prove you wrong!)

 “Here - this last one should do it. Make it count.” 

You make me strong! (You make me strong!)

Grumbling, Cassidy took the last stick of dynamite and threw it out the window as hard as she could. 

I said all I need is, all I need is, all I need is you!

The explosion that followed brought out the biggest swarm yet. 

“-Aaand that should do it. Lewis, get us the blazes out of here.” 

And as the music carried on into more of those intense beats, Cassidy’s vision was engulfed in blinding pink light and if she could have screamed she would have! It felt as if her battered body was being forcibly sucked through a very long tube. When it finally stopped, the van was a great distance ahead of the herd (but not so far that they weren’t still being chased) and the Mystery Skulls’ attention was on her. 

“What the hell just happened?” Vivi demanded from the back seat. 

“Oh no - you’re hurt!” Arthur cried. 

“No shit,” Cassidy groaned. And she would have said something snarky, but she broke out into coughs and when she took her hand away from her mouth her palm was covered in blood. 

“Lewis, did you-” 

“She must’ve been more seriously hurt than we thought before we picked her up,” Lewis said. “I’m so sorry - I never would’ve teleported us if I’d realized.” 

“S’ fine,” Cassidy gritted out, clutching her even-more-broken ribs and struggling to keep her composure. “I’d already be dead if you hadn’t grabbed me.”

“We’re gonna have to talk about this later,” Vivi said. “And you? You will tell us how this happened. But for now? Lewis, you have to go.” 

“Will you be alright-”

“That’s why we have the contingency plan! Now go!” 

And in a swirl of pink, he was gone. And not a moment after he disappeared, there was another slurry of pink light across every surface, and everything reverted back to the way it had been before Lewis possessed it.

“How much further to the gorge?” Vivi asked, as if none of that was unusual at all.

“Just ahead! You need to switch places with- uh…” Then Arthur turned apologetic. “Sorry. I don’t think we ever asked for your name.” 

“Angel,” Cassidy groaned, already moving back into the back seat. 

“Angel- haha. What a coincidence, right?” Arthur said, awkwardly looking away so he didn’t make direct eye contact with Cassidy’s ass as she passed him. “Well- nice to meet you Angel. Sorry if we’ve come across as rude but given the circumstances-” 

“Not the time for niceties, baby. Jus’ drive!”  

“Yes ma’am.” Arthur said quickly, right as Vivi hopped into the now empty seat beside him. She rolled down the window and the gale that filled the van assaulted Cassidy’s ears, even as Vivi hopped to sit on the window’s edge with her entire upper body outside of the vehicle. 

Cassidy, having laid down in the back of the van, felt the terrain beneath the vehicle tilt downhill and Arthur shouted over the wind, “This is the gorge! Fire the first flare!” And distantly, Cassidy heard Vivi fire it with a bang and a loud hiss. Unbeknownst to her, the blue light was visible for miles. Vivi tossed the now useless thing. And right as she was readying the second, the edges of Cassidy’s vision started going dark.

She was vaguely aware of a walkie talkie cutting on, but she couldn’t focus on the words being said. And right as Hellbent was coming to an end with one final dramatic chord, she blacked out. 

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

“How bad was it?” Ricky asked tensely. 

“Wipe that concerned look off your face Ricky, I was fine!” Cassidy waved him off dismissively. 

“Internal bleeding is not fine, Cassidy! If we didn’t have magic you may have needed surgery!” Mystery scolded. 

“I’m a little lost,” Fred scratched his head. “How did you get hurt?” 

“The particle displacement that occurs during magical teleportation isn’t easy on the body,” Lewis surmised. “Basically, in Cassidy’s case, suddenly displacing her weakened, injured body from one place to another worsened the tears in bruised tissue, reopened cuts, and as for her bones? The displacement puts pressure on your entire body at once, so you can only imagine what that does to bones that are already cracked or broken. Imagine if someone has broken ribs, (which Cassidy did) and some asshole walks up and squeezes them around the middle as hard as they can. But on your whole body.” 

“Jeepers. I’m glad you’re okay, Cassidy. That must’ve really hurt!” Daphne cried. 

“It’s water under the bridge now,” Cassidy shrugged. “If I had a nickel for every time Lewis apologized afterward… But he never would’ve done it if he’d realized I was injured and I’m still glad he did, given that we had the Devil’s Herd right on our heels.” 

“How did the rest of the trap go anyway?” Fred asked giddily. 

“Long story short,” Vivi explained, “We reached word of the third herd while we were still cleaning up the mess from the second. So before we had set off from there, we harvested an organ from the second queen’s carcass - the one whose head is mounted on our wall. That organ produces highly potent pheromones. That’s how they communicated - like bees. 

“We put those pheromones in gas canisters all over the van that continuously released small amounts, which made the cattle think we were another queen. So their instinct was either to destroy us or to take us back to their hive - either way,  they’d have to catch us first. So Arthur and I lured most of the skull cattle into a deep gorge, and beyond a certain point the people of Tumble caused a carefully orchestrated rock slide with dynamite to close them in. Then, long before they could dig or climb their way out, Mystery showed up, luring the rest of the herd into the gorge.” 

“That was my objective when I leapt out of the van,” Mystery explained with a hint of pride. “My job was to slink through the hive, kill the queen and any of her daughters, rip out her pheromone organ, and use it to lure any skull cattle left in the hive back to the trap with the rest.” 

“It’s a shame you missed that bit Cassidy because it was really cool,” Vivi said excitedly. “He jumped right off that cliff and they all followed. Most of them were either dead or close to it when they hit the bottom, save those who landed on the corpses of those who jumped before.”

“Rou jumped?” Scooby exclaimed. “What about the landing?”

“Kitsune are shape-shifters, remember?” Mystery smirked. And in a flash, he transformed into a large white raven and perched on the top of the chair behind Vivi’s head. “I flew- oh. I’m sorry, Ricky. Is this alright?” The kitsune-turned-bird asked, apologetic and concerned. 

“Oh- yeah it’s fine,” Ricky said sheepishly, rubbing his eyes and sitting up from where he’d been laying his head on the table. “I think what freaked me out yesterday was that you turned into something too similar to a parrot, and I wasn’t expecting it. But this is alright.” 

“‘No parrot-like things.’ I’ll keep that in mind.” Mystery said with a pleased fluff of his feathers.

Then he hopped off of the top of the perch, turned back into a dog, and landed squarely in Vivi’s lap - who couldn’t resist the urge to give him a cuddle. Which, if his wagging tail was anything to go by, had been his plan all along.

“So once they were in the gorge…” Velma prompted. 

“The townsfolk poured hundreds of gallons of molten tar down on the cattle,” Lewis said grimly, igniting a single flame on the tip of one finger, “-And I burned them alive.” Monsters as they were, Lewis could still hear their screams. And he felt no satisfaction in their deaths. 

“Like, zoinks,” Shaggy gulped. 

“Jinkies,” Velma gulped in agreement. “That’s… dark.” 

“There were too many of them to euthanize them humanely,” Vivi said sadly. “We tried that in Idaho and it cost us dearly. We didn’t even try in California because the Redwoods were in danger. Not to mention, obviously, all the people and wildlife who were also at risk. Then in Arizona a whole small town was in danger. And like the others, that herd had already caused a lot of damage and killed a lot of people. We didn’t even consider doing it humanely at that point.”

“Good,” Ricky said gravely. All heads turned with their undivided attention. “I can’t even begin to imagine how many people those things hurt. So even if they suffered, it’s better for them to not exist anymore. They never should’ve existed in the first place. God, why did I-”

“Don’t.” Mystery said. His eyes narrowed, flashing red, and his voice was very firm and stern, only to immediately turn gentle. “Come back, Ricky. Turn around. Don’t go down that path. The regrets, the what-ifs, the should-have-dones, the self-loathing. You’ll only drive yourself mad. Believe me… I know.” 

Ricky sat back in his chair a bit, sullen, and said no more on the matter. Though everyone could tell, and Ricky knew they could because he could see the concern on their faces, that particular battle wasn’t over just yet. Finally, he could take the silence no longer and put his head on the table, his face hidden in his arms. The table was awfully comfortable. And his eyes were growing so… heavy. 

“Cassidy!” Lewis said suddenly, which made everyone jump including Ricky, who quickly sat up and ran his hands over his face. (This went unnoticed by everyone except Mystery.) “Now you need to tell them what happened after you woke up.” 

And that made Mystery stiffen. Ah, yes. That.

“Why? What happened after you woke up?” Fred asked. 

“This one damn near gave me a heart attack and killed me, that’s what!” Cassidy shouted, jabbing an accusatory finger at Mystery. The “dog” batted his eyes and innocently looked away as if he had no idea what she was talking about, except he was also smirking as if to say, ‘I did it and I’ll do it again!’  

“Why am I not surprised?” Velma said dryly. 

“Oh they didn’t tell ya’all shit,” Cassidy laughed. “Just wait until you hear what the first damn thing out of his mouth was!” 

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

When Cassidy awoke, the first thing she registered was the pain. Her whole body protested with either stiffness, discomfort, or jabs that came with every little movement and adjustment. Next came sound - the hustle and bustle of movements and voices all around. Then the dry heat of the desert that clung to her skin, and the coarse, stiff bedding beneath her back. Then, finally, she blinked her eyes open. 

The light was dim and orange. Late afternoon sunlight just permeating the tent’s fabric above her head. Cassidy turned her head to and fro, taking in her surroundings. She was laid on a pop up cot with a very thin mattress inside of what appeared to be a medical tent. The other beds were empty, a monitor stuck to her arm kept track of her vitals, and a fan in the corner was trying its best to combat the Arizona heat. Aside from that, she was alone. And she could see her bag sitting on a makeshift bedside table, though her rifle was nowhere in sight.

As what had happened before she passed out came back to her, Cassidy sat up as carefully as she could with a groan. Ghosts, magic, and skull cattle? Were the mysteries not limited to Crystal Cove? 

Careful not to jostle herself too much, Cassidy reached over, pulled her bag over into her lap, and started digging around looking for her weapons and to check that all of her stuff was there. Surprise surprise, her pistol, shotgun, mace, and knives were all missing. As were her notes and files on the Mystery Skulls.

Just then, Cassidy’s head snapped up at the sound of someone entering the tent, and Arthur Kingsmen jumped when they locked eyes. “Oh! You’re awake! It was… Angel, right?” 

“Yeah. That’s right. And you’re Arthur Kingsmen, synth player of the Mystery Skulls. And… also a monster hunter apparently,” Cassidy said with a groan as she hefted her bag back onto the table. There wasn’t a single thing in there she could use at the moment anyway.

“Yep. That’s me,” he smiled and rubbed the back of his head, an embarrassed blush coming across his face that reminded her painfully of Ricky. 

Three kids and a talking animal… could there be a fourth? Even if there isn’t it’s too close to be a coincidence but there’s just no way… 

Just then, Vivi popped her head into the tent. “Hey Artie, how’s- Oh! You’re up!” Vivi Yukino said happily. “Hey Lewis! Miss Dynamite is awake!” 

Which led the ghost (apparently wearing his human disguise) to stride into the tent after her. “How are you feeling?” He asked. 

“Like that skull herd trampled me,” Cassidy said in the least-pained tone she could. 

“Sorry,” Lewis said guiltily. 

“From what I gather, you didn’t do it on purpose. All the same, I’d say we have a lot to talk about.” 

“That’s for sure,” Vivi said. “For starters, let’s properly introduce ourselves. I’m Vivi Yukino. This is Lewis Pepper, and this is Arthur Kingsmen. But you apparently already knew that, Miss… Angel Dynamite?” 

“Yeah, that’s my name.”

“No it isn’t.” 

Angel whirled around just in time to catch a glimpse of an enormous shadow on the other side of the tent dart out of sight. 

“What was that?” 

“Mystery…” Vivi warned sternly, but her tone went unheeded as a huge snout forced its way between the Mystery Skulls, followed swiftly by an absolutely gigantic beast. 

“SWEET lordy…” A gasp forced its way out of her and as much as every instinct she had was screaming at her, Cassidy found herself frozen in place. Not that, as hurt as she was, she would have been able to do much else anyway. The kitsune’s seven tails fanned out magnificently behind him like the tail of a peacock. Snow white fur was stained and splotched with orange mud and the golden blood of the cows, and when he shook himself speckles of it misted into the air around him. “What- that the hell-?” She asked shakily. 

“Angel, this is Mystery,” Vivi said in an even, measured voice. “You’ve actually met him, briefly, in the car before he jumped out.”

“That was a cute little dog!” Cassidy all but shouted. “Not some dog- wolf- fox- whatever-you-are! I- eep!” 

Cassidy jumped, shaking, when Mystery abruptly leapt up, his front paws on either side of her body, absolutely towering over her. His red eyes glowed in the dim light within the tent, and the sheer intensity of his glower through his gold spectacles locked all of her limbs in place. 

“What’s your name?” The creature asked. And his voice was all-encompassing, reverberating into the deepest parts of Cassidy’s chest in such a way that it shut all of them right up. 

“I- it’s Angel Dynamite,” she replied. Panic fluttered in her stomach. Why would he think otherwise?! 

“No it isn’t,” he snapped, hackles raised and teeth bared. “I do not know your face as I once did. But if there’s one thing I never forget it’s a smell. Especially one I pursued with such passion as yours. ‘Angel Dynamite?’ Ha! No, that’s the name you had to give yourself. I remember now. That’s what he used to call you, isn’t it?” 

Cassidy’s heart seized inside her chest, and the lovestruck face of the boy she’d loved once flashed before her eyes. He knew. He knew! But how? And the other Mystery Skulls didn’t, if the bewildered looks on their faces were anything to go by. 

Cassidy nervously swallowed. “You know me,” she said, as evenly as she possibly could. An admission with deniability if ever there was one. But Mystery would not have it. 

“What. Is. Your. Name?” He barked. And the force in his tone and the desperation in his eyes was so powerful that she had no choice but to give in. 

“... Cassidy Williams,” she admitted quietly.

And at those words his entire demeanor changed. His lips dropped over his fangs in a gasp of awe. The hardness vanished and the tension in his shoulders let out like a deflated balloon. He looked- relieved. So relieved he looked as if he might cry. “You’re alive,” he muttered, disbelieving. But then tearfully, he laughed. “I knew it!” 

“You know me,” Cassidy repeated, and he must have heard the fear and confusion in her voice. 

“I do,” he said, and his voice had become very gentle. Melancholy, yet fond. Reminiscing. “And you knew me. A version of me, anyway. But you would not remember me. My children and their families, you knew as well,” he said, gesturing to the other three Mystery Skulls. “But that doesn’t matter right now. The others! Ricky, Judy, Bradley. Are they alive as well? Do they still live?” 

Cassidy was so flabbergasted by his enthusiasm that it didn’t even occur to her to lie. “They are! They are!” 

At that news, Mystery became so excited that it took a whole twenty minutes to calm him down enough for him to tell them a story that Cassidy had only thought was familiar. And for Vivi, Arthur, and Lewis, that revealed wounds so old and so painful that no one around them had ever been able to bring themselves to tell the whole thing - until now.

༻˚⁺･⚉｡○✼༓☾⦾♫෴♡💛♡෴♫⦾☽༓✼○｡⚉･⁺˚༺

Once Cassidy stopped talking, the table fell very quiet. 

Then silently, five heads slowly turned to look at the little dog, sitting solemn and silent in Vivi’s lap. And he had that same expression on his face as that day in the desert: Joy and sorrow blended together in a tapestry of painful memories. 

Finally, Ricky swallowed the knot in his throat. “... You knew us?”  He asked quietly. 

And the dog looked right at Ricky and replied, “I did.” 

“... H-how?”

“I don’t blame you for not piecing it together yourself,” Mystery said. And his voice was forcibly even as he wrestled his own feelings under control. “A lot has happened in the past twenty-four hours. You all had so much more on your minds.” 

“That doesn't answer my question,” Ricky said. And he was forcing himself to stay calm too. 

“Do the math,” Mystery said simply. “You disappeared a little over twenty years ago. Vivi, Arthur, and Lewis were all born in Crystal Cove and are all twenty-seven, twenty-six, and twenty-five years old respectively. And their families lived here for some years even before that until they all moved away, almost two years after you left. I am the guardian spirit of the Yukino family. I was here too. Vivi, Lewis, and Arthur were so young they hardly remember Crystal Cove. But me? I remember. And yes, I knew you. I knew your families, your friends, your neighbors. The Yukinos lived not two blocks away from the Owenses. Five from the Williamses. Four generations of Yukinos lived in Crystal Cove, and for all that time I was here too. I was there when Vivi’s parents and grandparents congratulated yours on your birth. Both of your births. Brad and Judy’s too. I watched you grow up. I followed your mysteries - they were the only exciting thing that happened in Crystal Cove back then. And I was there, sniffing in vain around in the brush, when your father and Cassidy’s parents led volunteers to trudge through the caves and waterways with sticks… looking for your bodies.”

That last bit had Ricky’s throat closing and his eyes burning. 

Dad… 

Ricky and Cassidy both did not like thinking about their families. How much their disappearances must have hurt them. Even now, with the Freak not a threat anymore, neither of them had looked up or approached their families. It had been twenty years. Surely, they had moved on. Surely, showing up now would only hurt them more. And seeing them from a distance without being able to reach out would surely mean only more pain on their end.

“... Why are you only telling me this now?” Ricky asked. 

“I did not get to finish my story last night,” Mystery reminded Ricky gently. And, it’s as I keep saying: A lot has happened. There have been other things to talk about. And… I do not mean to diminish your pain when I say this. But would you believe me if I told you that it is painful for me too? Remembering everything that happened back then?” 

“Then why don’t I remember you?” 

“I was the guardian of the Yukino family. I tried not to get too involved in the lives of humans that were not mine, and it was in my nature to be forgettable. But I think, once reminded, you may yet remember.” 

“Then start talking,” Ricky said firmly. “And don’t you dare leave anything out.” 

“I will,” Mystery said. “But I believe a more comfortable setting would be appropriate, as it is quite the long story. And I need to get something from my chambers anyway. Vivi, Lewis. Why don’t you lead our guests to the family room? I’ll meet you there.” 

“If that’s alright with Ricky,” Vivi shrugged. 

And if Ricky had a bit more pep in his step right at that moment, he may have fought it. But at this point, he already felt so exhausted and utterly drained that he simply sighed, “Sure.” 

And so, Mystery hopped from Vivi’s lap and skedaddled out of the room, while the humans got up and silently picked up stacks of dishes from breakfast and carried them into the kitchen to be washed later. Then, awkwardly quiet, they followed Vivi and Lewis into yet another unexplored part of the mansion. 

Ricky kept quiet, his head swimming, and it was all he could do to keep his eyes trained on Cassidy’s back walking just ahead of him. Her shirt fit her well - he could see her toned muscles and defined shoulder blades shifting beneath the fabric with each step. Beautiful, he thought to himself. Even now, part of him feared that if he took his eyes off of her for too long she’d disappear. Or worse: he’d wake up to find that the miracle of this morning had been nothing but a dream. 

As for Cassidy, there were a lot of things that were yet to be explained to her, but for now she was content to hear what Mystery had to say until Ricky was ready to tell her the truth. Some things about the kitsune’s role in Crystal Cove twenty years ago had been explained to her back in Tempo, but she was looking forward to having a lot of gaps filled. 

“So like,” Shaggy cleared his throat after a while, “how exactly did you guys know Mystery Incorporated back in the day?” 

“Yeah. And why didn’t you mention it before?” Velma asked. Curious - not accusatory.

“Our families knew each other from what I understand,” Lewis said. 

“More than knew each other,” Cassidy corrected gently. “After spending some time in Tempo, I managed to find out more than what Mystery told us. Ya’all ain’t gonna believe this: Fred and Vivi are related.” 

At that, everyone abruptly stopped walking and turned around. “What?!” 

“Wait- how?!” Vivi exclaimed, just as shocked as everyone else.

“What’s your Momma’s maiden name?” Angel asked.

Vivi thought for a second, then smacked herself on the forehead. “Reeves! Of course!” 

“I thought Vivi was Japanese,” Fred said, confused. 

“Half Japanese, on my Dad’s side,” Vivi corrected. “I mostly take after him, but my Mom is definitely white. Like she is blonde. And- actually, come to think of it her hair is the same yellow as Fred’s. Anyway - all I know is some sides of Mom’s family had lived in Crystal Cove for a very long time. So I guess I shouldn’t really be surprised. How are we related, by the way? Specifically?” 

“Your Mom and Judy’s Dad are cousins,” Cassidy explained. “Which makes you and Judy second cousins, and you and Fred are second cousins once removed.”

“Wow. Small world,” Fred said.

“I didn’t even know my Mom had a cousin,” Vivi said. 

“They apparently don’t talk much anymore,” Cassidy shrugged. “And Fred and Vivi aren’t the only ones with a connection. I don’t know if anyone else is related, but apparently the Owenses, the Kingsmen, and the Yukinos were pretty tight. But I didn’t hear a lot about how or why that is, apart from that the Yukinos became fast friends with the other two families when they first moved to Crystal Cove, and the Kingsmen and Owens families were friends even before that. Then when my parents moved to Crystal Cove a few years before I was born, the Nocedas and the Peppers were the first to welcome them to the neighborhood, and the Yukinos weren’t far behind.” 

“Wait- who are the Nocedas?” Daphne asked. 

“My birth parents,” Lewis said quietly. 

And a sympathetic silence followed as the eight of them continued on before Vivi pressed through the awkwardness. “Anyway- Arthur, Lewis, and I really couldn’t tell you much about back then. I was only six when the Original Mystery Incorporated disappeared. Arthur was five, and Lewis was four. And we moved away like… a year later? I have a few fleeting memories that are relevant. But they’re mostly glimpses, feelings, or single moments. The adults back home in Tempo who do remember everything only have parts of the puzzle, and even then talking about it has become a sort of unspoken taboo. Mystery has more of the story than anyone else, and even he doesn’t like talking about it. All the hurt that happened in Crystal Cove 20 years ago… a lot of people have either forgotten about it or tried to. But Mystery sure as hell hasn’t.”

“No kidding,” Cassidy agreed. 

“It’s frustrating,” Vivi sighed. “Mystery’s become more and more open with us since he first revealed himself as a kitsune and started actually talking to us, but his days as Kit and Koa are the only really important part of his life that he won’t talk about.”

Ricky had been starting to nod off, but something about what Vivi said caught his attention. “His days as what?”

“Those were the names he lived under during his time in Crystal Cove,” Vivi explained. “Throughout his days as a guardian spirit, he’s assumed whatever name the family gives him. Usually during and after a period when he takes the form of some companion animal and decides to live among the family for whatever reason instead of watching over us unseen. He’s been Mystery for a little over eighteen years, if memory serves me right. But before that, he took the form of a border collie and my grandma named him Koa. If you remember him at all, that would be the name and form you knew him by.”

Koa… something about that name rang a bell. Where do I know that name from??? Ugh, it was only nine in the morning, and too much had happened already. What Ricky really wanted to do was lie down and take a nap. But there was still too much to do and too much to talk and think about. 

He didn’t ask any more questions, and kept trudging along with the others.

At last, they came upon a spacious yet cozy lounge with dark blue wallpaper and red and orange furniture. Apparently the “family room,” where Mystery had for some reason decided to hold this discussion. 

Ricky plopped down on a large, L-shaped couch and leaned back, arms over the back of the couch with his eyes closed, intending to mentally prepare himself. Cassidy spared him a worried look before she sat down on the other line on the “L” beside him. While the kids walked around the room and looked at the pictures. 

Only then did it become clear as to why this was known as the “family room.” Because that’s what all of the pictures were of: The Mystery Skulls, along with their families. And quite a few of the older ones, the kids recognized, had been taken in Crystal Cove! They were so busy looking around and asking questions, especially about the pictures that included Vivi’s Mom’s side of the family, that they hardly noticed when five minutes went by. Then almost another five minutes. And right when they were starting to wonder what was taking Mystery so damn long, in the kitsune trotted, looking a bit too pleased with himself, carrying a large book-shaped package in his mouth. 

“Apologies for the wait,” the kitsune said a bit too merrily as he set the package down on the coffee table. 

“No kidding. What took you so long?” Cassidy asked suspiciously.

“Ah, silly me. I’d misplaced my photo album. I’ve accumulated so many things over the years, you know. I was beginning to fear I’d left it back in Tempo when I found it under my pillow of all places. Imagine that.” 

“You’re up to something,” Vivi stated. 

“Up to something?” Mystery cried in his most offended possible tone. “Vivi! I am shocked and appalled that this is your opinion of me!” 

“Hear that, kids?” Lewis asked. “That’s the sound of bullshit.” 

“Yyyep,” Fred agreed. 

“Rullshit,” said Scooby. 

“‘Bullshit?’ ‘Up to something?’” The Kitsune balked teasingly, “From the way you all talk, you’d think I was some sort of shady vagabond!”

“What. Did you do?” Vivi asked dryly. 

“Very well,” Mystery sighed. “But you can’t be mad at me.” 

“What. Did you do?”

“Technically,” Mystery said, “I didn’t ‘do’ anything. But… let’s just say that my story is going to have to wait until this evening.”

And right as Vivi was about to demand why, she was cut off by the sound of a soft snore. 

Ricky. Had fallen asleep. Right where he sat, leaning back against the couch.

“Ricky?” Cassidy called him and lightly shook his shoulder, but he didn’t so much as stir. “Ricky?” 

“No no, don’t wake him,” Mystery said. “I’ve been waiting for this all morning. It was only a matter of time.” 

“Why? What’s wrong with him?” She demanded. 

“Don’t fret, little Angel. Nothing is wrong. Sleepyhead’s medicine simply hasn’t worn off yet.” 

Lewis smacked his forehead. “The sleeping potion! Of course!” 

“The what now?” Cassidy cocked an eyebrow.

“Ricky couldn’t sleep last night,” Vivi explained, “So Mystery gave him a potion. He really needed the rest. That’s why he slept in.” 

“I told him to go take it right away, or at least I thought it was implied,” Mystery sighed, slightly irritated, “But instead he bumped into Velma on the way back to his room and stayed up for another few hours. Then took it.” 

“Okay,” Cassidy said, confused, “That still doesn’t explain…”

“Have you ever taken nighttime medicine?” Vivi asked. “It can be difficult to get comfortable and fall asleep when you’re sick, so a lot of nighttime medications have stuff in them to help their patient sleep. But those medicines are supposed to wear off by morning. So if you take it late and wake up early without the effects wearing off, you feel super lethargic for the first half of the day. The same thing has happened to Ricky, but he took a potion instead of ‘normal’ medicine so the effect is a lot stronger.”

“Poor dear. It’s likely that the only reason he’s been awake as long as he has is due to the stress,” Mystery said. “But with magic, even stress can only hold it off for so long. Then we likely sped it along by feeding him.” 

“Like, why by feeding him?” Shaggy asked. 

“Eating a big, comfortable meal like that would be enough to make anyone satisfied and drowsy,” Lewis said. “Add a dreamless sleep potion into the mix and it’s no wonder he’s zonked out.”

“Oh for Pete’s- you planned this!” Velma cried accusingly, jabbing a finger at Mystery. 

“I did not plan for Ricky to take his medicine late. But just now, did I intentionally have Vivi and Lewis take him to the most comfortable lounge in the house then stall long enough for him to doze off? Yes I did,” Mystery smirked mischievously. “Because I didn’t want to argue with him when I told him he needed to go back to bed before anything else. Just like Cassidy is about to.” 

“What- me?” Cassidy snapped. 

“You’ve been awake and on-the-move for over twenty-four hours,” Mystery said, bending his neck down to her level. “That, and we won’t urgently need you for anything for another few hours anyway. So yes, Cassidy. The others and I will be going out into Crystal Cove to make some preparations, and in the meantime you and Ricky will remain here. Not that you’ll miss us - we should return at about the same time you wake up - at around 3:00. Five hours still won’t be nearly enough rest but for now we’ll have to take what we can get.”

“The hell I do!” Cassidy stubbornly spat, indignant at the mere suggestion. “I still haven’t-” But mid-sentence, Mystery exhaled a cloud of red smoke in her face. Cassidy abruptly stopped talking, her eyes rolled over, her entire body went slack, and she slumped over on the couch beside Ricky. 

With a red flash, Mystery took the form of the man with long black hair he’d shown them last night. Except of course, his seven magnificent tails were still showing from under his kimono and his tall pointed ears were sticking out of his hair on top of his head. Twenty years later and they’re still so adorable, the kitsune chuckled to himself, fondly remembering a time long ago when this very pair of sleepy meddling kids fell asleep on the Yukino’s couch. 

“Jeepers! What did you do to Angel?” Daphne cried. 

“Just a simple sleeping spell, Daphne. Fear not,” Mystery said dismissively. And gently, tenderly even, he lifted Ricky’s upper body from the back cushion and moved him to lie longways on the couch. “I believe I mentioned that we kitsune have some power over dreams. Which makes us skilled in all sorts of sleep-related magic,” Mystery continued, and he picked up Ricky’s legs from where they hung over the side and put them onto the cushions. “This one will only put her out for a few hours. Assuming I’ve estimated correctly, Ricky should wake up an hour or two before her, but I’m sure he’ll be fine as long as we leave a note explaining things.”

Rolling her eyes, Vivi came up behind him with a couple of blankets as Mystery moved on to Cassidy. “Why did you put Cassidy to sleep?” She asked. “Her needing the rest can’t have been the only reason.”

“I mean, she couldn’t exactly have helped much until this afternoon anyway,” Lewis guessed, scratching the back of his head. 

“-But knowing her, she would have tried to regardless,” Mystery added, having now moved Ricky and Cassidy to each lie longways on the cushions. “And when we didn’t let her, as if we could stop her, it only would have bothered her while she waited. So I felt it was best that she sleep until then.” And he took the blankets from Vivi and draped one over each of them.

“Why’s that?” Scooby asked. 

“Because,” Lewis announced, a piece of paper magically appearing in his hand, “I went to see Arthur last night, and he has a plan. But he needs our help to pull it off, so we’ve got homework and the deadline is in less than 48 hours.” 

“And all of it involves going out into Crystal Cove,” Mystery added. With a flourish, a long ornate gold kiseru pipe appeared in his hand and he began to smoke kizami while he spoke. 

Unnoticed by Mystery Incorporated, this caused Vivi and Lewis to spare each other a very worried look. Being a spirit, smoking wasn’t bad for Mystery in the way it is for fully mortal beings. But while it wasn’t harmful for him, he knew second-hand smoke could be bad for humans and that the habit had become increasingly frowned upon in the past few decades. Which meant these days, wanting to set a good example for the younger ones, Mystery never smoked in front of them anymore unless he was extremely stressed about something. In the three years since he’d revealed himself as a shape-shifter, this was only the third time they’d ever seen him do it.

All of this to say, if whatever Mystery was going to have to say about twenty years ago was affecting him this badly, then it was extremely concerning indeed.

“But,” Mystery continued, blowing out a long, beautiful red stream of smoke, “it would be extremely unwise for Cassidy to go into town with us. If she did, she could be spotted on one of Mr. E’s cameras. And if our enemies saw her, then best-case scenario there goes our element of surprise and one of our wild cards. Worst-case scenario, we end up with kriegstaffebots at our door trying to finish what they started.” And as he finished talking, he began blowing lovely red smoke rings as he listened to the others.

“Zoinks! Like yeah, those are good reasons!” Shaggy gulped, his eyes nervously following a trail of smoke that went by his head. 

“-Not that they could get into the house anyway if they tried!” Vivi added quickly. “Not with our defenses, remember?”

“Yeah but it’d be annoying. And since we’d be essentially under siege it would become near-impossible for anyone aside from Mystery, myself, or maybe you to leave. That, and this is a great spot. I’d rather avoid having to move the house if I can,” Lewis pointed out.

“That’s true too.”

“Rud reasons,” Scooby agreed.

“So what’s the homework?” Velma asked eagerly. 

“The two main keys to success in Arthur’s plan are physically escaping Destroido and ditching Pericles, Brad, and Judy. Then getting the cobra larvae removed. As you could guess, the second part is the tricky part and also what we’re going to do today,” Lewis said. “Because the capsule is pretty deep in there, and it’s like a centimeter away from Ricky’s spinal cord. The only way it’s coming out is if Arthur’s sedated and someone cuts it out, and that’s not something we can do safely. Which means we need a surgeon, equipment, and a place where that surgery can be done.” 

“Uh, why don’t we just take him to the hospital?” Scooby asked.

“It’s too obvious and too dangerous,” Lewis replied. “Removing the cobra venom will probably be Pericles’ first guess about ‘Ricky’s’ next move, and the hospital is the most obvious place that could be done. And the last thing we need is them dragging Arthur back right when we think we’ve won. Or worse: bringing killer robots into a hospital full of sick people.”

“So,” Fred surmised, “We need somewhere equipped with surgical equipment and someone who can perform surgery, but it can’t be at an actual medical center.” 

“Not only that but it has to be the right kind of surgeon. Or at least a surgeon with the right training,” Velma added. 

“This is where you come in, Mystery Incorporated,” Mystery smirked. And he blew an enormous, beautiful red smoke ring that encircled the four kids and their dog before it dissipated, filling the air with the smell of tobacco.

“The Mystery Skulls aren’t established in Crystal Cove,” Vivi explained. “We don’t know anyone here. We don’t have any connections. You guys on the other hand have been meddling around this town for years. You probably know just about everyone by now. So finding the answer to this is going to be up to you.” 

“I think I might have an idea of where we could do the surgery, but I don’t know about a surgeon,” Velma said thoughtfully.

And Fred, Shaggy, and Scooby didn’t have any ideas either until, with a defeated sigh, Daphne raised her hand. “Actually… I think I know the exact person who can help us.” 

And HERE IT IS! I'm sorry for the long wait, and I hope the long chapter and the fanart makes up for it! I didn't mean to make you all wait this long for this chapter. I went through a bit of a rough patch the past couple of months because of school stuff. I picked the wrong major. BUT! I'm on a different path now that's much better for me and my mental health. I can't promise when the next update will be, as my current schedule doesn't leave me with much spare time. But I don't intend to make you wait another three months either. On to talking about the chapter itself and its future, I don't know how they keep ending up this long but no one particularly seems to be complaining about it. Cassidy still doesn't know what happened to Ricky, Mystery has revealed yet another can of worms to open so expect lots more flashbacks ahead, and we're finally going to see our heroes actually start contributing to Operation: Free the E in the next few chapters. As for my song choice, I wasn't originally planning to use "Hellbent" for this part of the story, but as I was writing the flashback to Arizona I realized no other song could possibly be this appropriate for a car chase. That, and the past several chapters have been God, Pay for My Sins, and Angel. So why not continue the trend and put all of the songs with Christian/heaven/hell titles in one place? I would also like it to be known that Hellbent will most likely be used as a chapter song/title again in the future. I had been planning to use it for another chapter anyway, and tbh I'm running out of good Mystery Skulls songs that remain fitting to what's happening in the plot. I'mma try to have song repeats be few and far between tho! I would also like it noted, some of you may have noticed, that I have added "previous" and "next" buttons to the format of my posting. I got the idea from Morningmark's comics he posts here on Tumblr. I can't promise how consistent they are to every single post though, because some of my chapters have proven difficult to find. I'll work out the kinks eventually, and I hope they make reading 'One Of Us' on Tumblr more manageable. Just don't forget to run over to Ao3 to leave a kudo or a comment too! Seriously, do share your thoughts and possible theories. I never grow tired of them and they're what encourage me to keep going! I stay busy with school so I don't know when I'll have time to post chapter 23 to Ao3 but you can bet it'll be posted there by this weekend!

Chapters 1-22 of 'One of Us' are presently posted on Archive of Our Own!

[aspiringroleplays]

@atimelesslullaby

Sora couldn’t believe he was feeling this, but… he was actually feeling mad. Maybe it was because of that merchant that had set him off before, but when Zelda had explained to him about the “expectations” and “traditions” of this celebration, he was confused. And then irritated.

“But… it’s your birthday,” He argued, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “This is supposed to be about you and what you want. Who cares what they think?”

He got it, he really did. He knew she had a duty to her kingdom and the people, and everyone wanted the chance to see and speak with her (let’s face it, he was no better. He wanted to hang around her too), but didn’t she deserve to have some time to herself? Shouldn’t she have some time to relax, and have fun, and speak with all her friends? Today, of all days, she should have been allowed to do what she really wanted to do. If this was some official holiday or the like, he wouldn’t have interfered, but...

She just… didn’t look like she was having any fun.

His ears alerted him to several people approaching him from behind, clearly intending to seek audience with her as well. He pursed his lips. No good. She’d never be able to get away at this rate.

“Hey,” He lowered his voice. “Make an exception for me.” He extended his gloved hand in clear invitation. “I promise I’ll make it fun. Just for a few minutes.”

He was determined to make her laugh, or at the very least smile a real smile, just once.

Out on the dance floor, he knew everyone’s eyes would be on him because, duh, he was dancing with the guest of honor. He knew no one actually cared about him- but they would definitely notice if he messed up.

‘Just don’t step on her feet,’ He told himself as they went into position. ‘Anything but that!’

So he decided to take just a few minutes to really feel the music and memorize the steps. Make sure that he got it right. He didn’t necessarily remember all the technical names of music, but he at least knew rhythm. So the first few rounds were slow, him occasionally glancing to the couples at the side as he checked his steps. Once he was confident, he relaxed, the easy smile belaying his relief. ‘Okay, I think I got it! Now then-’

In his world, the men always led in the dance. No matter the social status of the two parties involved, if music was involved, the men were expected to set the pace, and the women to keep up. That was an ironclad rule that he had learned. So naturally, he just assumed it was the same here. Mostly out of habit.

If it wasn’t? Well, he supposed he’d learn the hard way later.

He kept in time with the music, swaying and sweeping her about more confidently as he got comfortable. Kairi had always told him she enjoyed being swept around. She loved being lifted and spun and tossed, and Sora had just come to assume it was like that for all girls.

“Hey Zelda, you trust me, right?” He asked innocently, before flashing her a mischievous grin. “I’m gonna add a few things.”

But it was probably a good idea to at least warn her ahead of time. Kind of helped when the dance partner was at least cooperating.

He slowly extended the steps, carefully guiding them away from the few couples on the dance floor so he’d have a little more room. They’d have all the attention anyway, so there was no point in having discretion. He just wanted to be sure they didn’t run into anyone. And if anyone got mad about any “rules” being broken, well, he’d take the fall. He’d gladly get in trouble if it meant giving her a good time.

So he began to sweep her out to the side, releasing her waist to stretch her in a flourish. He clasped her again, then went back into the basic step pattern. A quick spin of his arm to give her a twirl. Lifting both arms to turn her about so they danced with her back flush against him. He never broke rhythm, and went right back in time with the basic steps, but he took a few liberties, adding a few moves to keep things interesting to keep her on her toes.

And, to hopefully, make her smile.

The truth was that there was a reason Sora had worked so hard in learning how to dance.

Growing up it wasn’t just a game for him. As he crushed on Kairi, deep down he had been wanting to do whatever it took to get her attention. Dancing, singing, romantic gestures and sweet conversation- he had done it all in the hopes of winning her heart. Riku was strong and fast and smart- Sora could never hope to beat him the usual ways. The best Sora could do was be “romantic”. In his quest to try to figure out “what girls liked” he had come to expect them himself. Romantic dates, meaningful outings and heartfelt gestures were all things he had unconsciously come to incorporate in all his “daydreams” of wooing a girl. Even after Kairi had turned him down, and he tried to look for love elsewhere, those same habits carried with him wherever he went. What would she like? What would make her swoon? What would capture her heart? He didn’t even think about it.

“Sora,” Kairi had said when he came to her, to stop him from agonizing so much. “Do you just want something for her birthday, or do you want to impress her?”

He’d been so mortified realizing he did it without thinking that he assured her this was just a birthday thing. Just a casual thing between friends. He didn’t have any personal feelings, really.

All the heroes of his childhood hadn’t just won their love interests with strength and brawn- but with heart too. Perhaps that was why Sora valued it so much, and saw it as important.

But whatever the case, this was how it was. And now…

‘It’s just a dance,’ he told himself, never letting his smile falter as he tried to cheer her up. ‘It doesn’t have to be romantic. We’re just friends. I’m just… trying to help her have fun.’

The problem was that for Sora, ballroom dancing was romantic. Normal dancing at a party, club, festival? Not an issue- that was for everyone! But royal, beautiful, ballroom dancing was different. Ever since he was a kid he associated it with romance. The music, the ambiance, the gentle touches, the close contact, her.

‘She really is beautiful.’ She had the most breathtaking eyes. They were almost… the same color he used to have. ‘It must be hard looking at my eyes.’ He thought wryly to himself, the shame making him break eye contact to look at her mouth instead. ‘They’re so weird now.’

He meant the way they were now stark yellow-gold, the mark of the dhampire. Not human in the least.

(And what he didn’t realize was that his outfit, while mostly blue, was lined with gold silk, and had the deep golden vest. It brought out the deeper gold tones of his eyes, something Kairi had realized and had been determined to do. Blue looked good with his skin and hair, and gold brought out his eyes. It was the perfect color combination for him. It was the real reason she had chosen this outfit for him. Despite how upset he was about his traits, she was determined to make him see the beauty in himself, even if other people had to tell him for her.)

His heart skipped a beat and swelled with emotion as they whirled around each other. The rush that came with the dancing was too much for his poor heart to stave back, the high that came from the excitement for the night making him truly feel like he was falling head over heels.

‘So this is what Prince Charming felt,’ Sora thought to himself, steeling himself to keep up his grin and make eye contact again. ‘It’s no wonder he searched the whole kingdom for her. I’d probably do the same.’

Just a simple dance, and his heart was absolutely convinced it had found his soul mate. Which, when he thought about it… was actually kind of strange.

‘Why don’t we react to each other?’ He thought distractedly, eyes flitting over her jewelry, and hair, and lips, like searching for an answer. ‘Is it actually because I’m from a different universe?’

He meant his demonic nature. If Kairi activated her holy powers, it triggered his traits. He had to physically fight them down to keep from losing control. And even normally, Kairi could still sense his non-human signature. That was part of the reason he had been a little worried when he first heard of Zelda’s status as a vessel of the goddess. Yet she never treated him with anything other than kindness, and truth be told, close proximity hadn’t even alerted him to her divine nature. Maybe Kairi was right- his “species” didn’t have any beef with the heavens of this universe… so maybe they didn’t care? Maybe the “divine” powers didn’t trigger him because the gods didn’t inherently hate him? It wasn’t like he was an “enemy” of the heavens if his kind didn’t technically exist here.

Was there a way to find out?

… without alerting Zelda?

He would have to find a way to look into it. There had to be some way to see if he’d be… safe… here...

His grin faltered as his heart fell. Oh. Right. Divinity or not, Sora still consumed blood to survive. No kingdom would tolerate that. Once the goddess found out, he was pretty sure she’d start sending whatever the “angel” equivalent was after him.

… he just really, really hoped it wasn’t Zelda that came after him personally. He didn’t think he’d be able to take that.

“Alright, up we go!” He chirped as they neared the end of the song. And that was all the warning Zelda got before he grasped her waist and lifted her up in the air in a spin. Normally the girl would need to jump to help the man, but, well, he had super strength, so who cared?

'Huh, she's heavier than she looks,' he noted as he plopped her back down. 'She must work out a lot.'

And of course, Sora being Sora, didn't stop to think how weird that was.

‘That’s my Sora!’ Kairi cheered to herself in approval, hands clasped together. ‘That’s how you win the heart of a princess!’

Listen, if it was between her “brother from another mother” and some stranger, she’d rather cheer for Sora. He was the sweetest person in the whole wide world, and he deserved to be happy! And who better than a perfect princess?

(Admittedly, Kairi might have been a little biased, given her love for them both. She didn’t believe him for an instant when he said there was “nothing” between the two of them.)

Honestly, the girl couldn't believe her luck. It was like a scene straight from a fairytale, and she was getting to witness it firsthand! A lovely princess with a dashing hero...

This time, as the song ended, Sora remembered he was supposed to bow to his partner, and he did so, only just now hearing all the murmurs from the onlookers. The hum was too much for him to filter through however, so he just ignored them. He was pretty sure they were all ho-humming his gall or whatever.

Actually, a lot of them were just trying to figure out how old he was. Hazards of having a permanent baby-face.

‘Sorry I can’t make this party better, Zelda,’ he thought to himself as he stood, though knew he couldn’t say that out loud. ‘But I hope you at least had a little bit of fun.’

He turned about, heading back to the sidelines, until he noticed the frantically waving arms of his best friend. He blinked at her in confusion, squinting as he focused his ears on her to figure out what she was desperately mouthing to him.

“Take her back!” She was saying in panic, and pointed to the side. “Take her back!”

He tilted his head in confusion, before following where she was pointing. Take her back-?

And then he saw the throne, it hit him, and he whirled around in alarm, red-faced. Oh shoot, shoot, shoot!

He took a long step forward, offering his arm, even as he looked away from clear embarrassment. “I’ll uh, take you back to your seat.”

Oops, in his casualness he had forgotten she was a princess. So much for finally getting the hang of this party.

[radarsteddybear]

Whumptober Day 24 - Jumpy

Fandom: Original Fiction (H.O.U.N.D.S.) Prompt(s): shadows, "Who's there?" Rating: Teen Additional Tags: whump, hurt/comfort, friendship, found family, spy-fi, hospital setting

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Once back at H.O.U.N.D.S. Headquarters in Denver, Cassandra and Minnow marched straight to Medical.  The doctor assured them that it had been fine to ditch the emergency room; in fact, it was probably better that way.   There wasn’t much to be done besides wait for Cassandra’s hearing to return on its own, and it was better she do so in peace and quiet. 

Of course, that also meant that she was stuck in Denver for the next few days when all she wanted to do was sleep in her own bed.  Lucky for her, Minnow had agreed to stay until she was cleared to return to Arlington (though Cassandra didn’t think that anyone could pull Minnow away, not even the President himself).

Minnow had been assigned a temporary office so she could catch up on reports and paperwork while Cassandra was relegated to a bed in the medical ward, which meant that Cassandra spent good chunks of the day alone.  Minnow had been kind enough to run out and get her a couple of cheap pulp novels and a book of crossword puzzles, which went a little way in relieving the boredom, but not by much.  She’d also invested in a fresh pad of paper, which now sat on Cassandra’s night table, waiting for Minnow to come back so Cassandra had a reason to use it.

Lucky for her, her hearing had already started to come back.  Loud enough noises sounded like muffled hums.  Good for getting her attention, though not much else, especially without a radio or television in the room with her. 

In the meantime, Cassandra watched the shadows on the walls.  She was surprised at how much they changed throughout the day. 

Cassandra grabbed one of the novels and turned to the first page.  The summary hadn’t particularly grabbed her—something about a mystery-solving space cowboy—but it was better than nothing.

Without the usual distractions of beeping monitors and voices in the hallway, it didn’t take long for Cassandra to become absorbed in the book.  She found herself on page 138 before setting it down to take a break.

The shadows on the wall had moved.  Cassandra reached over to her side table to get a drink of water and check the time.  She hoped Minnow would come back soon.

Cassandra caught some movement out of the corner of her eye.  She froze and watched for it to happen again, but it didn’t.  She slowly set down her glass and picked up her book.

About two pages later, it happened again.  She slowly lowered the book and looked around, but she couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary.  She went back to the book. 

This time, she couldn’t focus on the words.  She stared at the page, unseeing, silently daring the movement to happen again.

And it did!

“Hello?” Cassandra called out.  “Is anybody there?”

There was no answer, at least none that Cassandra could hear.  She told herself that she was just imagining things and tried to go back to her book.

There it was again, and this time, Cassandra swore she heard…something along with it. 

Paradoxically, she clapped her hands over her ears and shrank into the bed.  She felt helpless, vulnerable.  She couldn’t help but imagine that a big monster with sharp claws and sharper teeth was hiding just out of sight, waiting for the right moment to pounce.  Or a F.E.L.I.S. assassin, armed with a rifle, was waiting for a shift change before pulling the trigger to ensure the nurses would be too distracted to come to her aid right away.  Or maybe it was a low-level scientist, bitter that Cassandra had put them in prison, waiting to smother her with her pillow in revenge.

No.  That was ridiculous.  This was a H.O.U.N.D.S. stronghold; F.E.L.I.S. would never think of invading here, and if they did, they had more than enough security to hold them back. 

She cautiously took her hands away from her ears and went back to her book.  She was being silly.  She was just bored.  Her mind was playing tricks on her.  It was best to focus on her book, keep it occupied for a while.

Cassandra got five more pages in before she heard a sound.  Some sort of a thump, clear as day.  But that couldn’t be right; her hearing hadn’t improved that quickly.  She ran her hand over the sheet of her bed, and sure enough, she couldn’t hear it at all.  She clapped her hands together and could hardly hear that, either. 

She shook her head.  She must have been imagining things.

She turned back to her book.  The space cowboy was about to interrogate the main suspect, the Martian settlement’s barber surgeon.  Just as she settled in, she heard another sound.

Cassandra froze.  No, that wasn’t right.  She turned back to her book.

Another sound.  This was getting ridiculous.  Cassandra turned back to her book.  Again.

Another sound, different this time, muffled, like all the others she’d actually been able to hear.  It made Cassandra jump.  She watched as if in slow motion as the handle on the door to her room began to turn.  She raised her book, prepared to throw it.  The door began to open…

To reveal Minnow.

Cassandra sighed in relief and lowered the book.

Minnow walked in with a smile on her face, but it quickly turned into a frown.  She began to say something but stopped and grabbed the pad on Cassandra’s side table.

Are you ok?

Cassandra hesitated before she wrote back.  Yeah, just a little jumpy.

Minnow sat down on the side of the bed.  Makes sense.  How’s your head?

Pain —> gone.  Memory —> also gone.

The truth was, Cassandra hadn’t tried to remember anything since they’d left the diner.  She was afraid to.  It was like her brain had put a metal wall around the memories of the last few days, and trying to breach that wall caused some of the worst pain that Cassandra had ever felt, which was really saying something. 

I figured some things out, Minnow wrote. 

Cassandra nodded.

Your mission was to investigate some odd happenings near the Rio Grande National Forest.  Top secret.  Sounded like it could be weapons.  I couldn’t get too many details, but Mr. Thaddeus said he’d brief you once we get back home. 

Cassandra nodded again.  Her head felt a bit fuzzy, like she was trying to keep herself from thinking to hard about what Minnow was writing.

Ring any bells?

Cassandra shook her head ‘no.’

Minnow frowned.  We might want to run some more tests when we get back.

Cassandra couldn’t help but look nervous.

It’s ok.  I’ll be with you the whole time.

Cassandra managed a smile.

***

They continued to pass notes about Minnow’s report, their flight back to Arlington tomorrow morning, the goings on at the Denver base, and the crossword puzzles in the book Minnow had bought.  Finally, Minnow stood and wrote on the pad. 

I’d better be heading off to bed.

Cassandra grabbed the pad from her and scribbled furiously.  Where will you be?

They’ve got a cot room down near the offices.  Up the hall and to the left, then it’s room 426. 

Cassandra reluctantly nodded.  She didn’t want Minnow to go.  She didn’t want to be alone.

Minnow took back the pad.  I’ll be back first thing tomorrow morning.

Cassandra nodded again.  Minnow gave her arm a squeeze and then left the room.  It didn’t take Cassandra too long to get ready for bed—the nurses had insisted that she wear a hospital gown, so she didn’t even have to change into pajamas—but she lay in bed a long while before she fell asleep.

***

“Good morning!”

Cassandra started at the sound.  She’d heard it!  She’d heard words!  They were still quiet and muffled, but it was a huge step up from yesterday.

Minnow picked up the pad of paper from Cassandra’s side table.  How are you?

Good.  Hearing is better.  Not great, but better.

Minnow beamed.  We’ll have to test it when we get back.  Now, we’ve got to get ready for our flight.

That didn’t take long at all.  Minnow only had her small emergency suitcase, and Cassandra just had the clothes she’d been wearing when she’d woken up in that cell.  She didn’t even know if she’d brought anything else on this mission.

The head of the Denver headquarters ordered a car to drive them to the airport, and their H.O.U.N.D.S. status gave them priority boarding.  It wasn’t long before they were on the plane.

Cassandra settled back into her seat.  It was a lot like the end of almost every other mission.    The relief of returning home to her own bed in her own apartment, of not having to think on her feet or dodge bullets nearly as much for a couple of days.  It was a good feeling.

Think the air pressure will mess up my ears? she wrote on the pad.

Minnow produced a pack of gum and some sucking candies. 

I think you’ll be fine, she wrote.  This time next week, you’ll be back to your old self.

Cassandra wasn’t sure about that.  Her hearing, maybe, but this thing with her memory?  Doubtful.  Then again, Cassandra wasn’t sure if she wanted to remember what had happened.

But she didn’t have to worry about that now.  Now, all she had to do was sit back, relax, and make sure she kept her ears from popping too badly on the way back home.

And that was something that she didn’t need her ears or her memory for.

(Though it would have been nice to be able to hear the in-flight movie.)

[amkyor]

Hey! I'm a big fan, annnd I have a bakugou x y/n idea... where bakugou hasn't been paying attention to y/n his girlfriend lately and it's been lonely.... so y/n is watching a romance anime with Mina and y/n says... "I wish I had that"....and then Mina ask if she loves bakugou and she says ...."hes okay"..... but the whole time bakugou and his friend kirishima were listening....and bakugou his mind is like "I'm a bad boyfriend? Does she love me? Im...okay?"

K. BAKUGO SHORT STORY

Synopsis: Bakugo has been distant toward his girlfriend (you), and she realizes how much it is actually affecting her while watching a romance movie that includes the love that she wishes she had.

Short note: Chapter 23 of my Bakugo x Reader Fanfiction is out now! If you like my stories on here, I'm sure you'll like my fanfiction, so go check it out! The link is at the end of this post!!

Distance Between Us:

It all started slowly, too slow for you to realize.

The day you started to notice it was when it was late in the evening, and you were sitting on the couch, waiting for Bakugo to come home.

He had promised to spend the evening with you after work, but as the hours ticked by, your excitement turned into frustration. Finally, you heard the front door open.

Bakugo walked in, still in his hero uniform, his face tired and serious. "Sorry, I got held up at work. Some idiot caused a mess in the city," he muttered, tossing his gloves onto the table.

You smiled, trying to be understanding. "It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re home now. Want me to heat up the dinner I made for us?"

"Not hungry," he replied shortly, already pulling out his phone. "I need to check the patrol schedule for tomorrow. There’s a lot going on."

You sighed, your shoulders dropping. "Katsuki, can’t it wait? You’ve been working all day. We barely get time together."

But he didn’t seem to hear you, his eyes glued to the screen. "Huh? Yeah, sure, whatever you say."

The evening dragged on, and though he was physically present, his mind remained consumed by hero work.

You ended up eating dinner alone while he sat at the kitchen table, typing away on his laptop.

---

Another time was when he had made plans out of nowhere to hang out with his friends and ditch out on the two of you had planned.

It was a rare weekend when Bakugo didn’t have patrol or missions lined up.

You had planned a quiet day together—something simple, just the two of you.

But as you were setting up breakfast, his phone buzzed on the counter.

Bakugo glanced at the screen and smirked. "It’s Kirishima. He wants to hit the gym and grab lunch afterward. I’ll be back later."

Your stomach sank. "I thought today was for us? We haven’t had a day off together in weeks, Katsuki."

He blinked as if realizing for the first time that you might have feelings about this. "We can hang out later. It’s not like I’m gone all day. Plus, I haven’t seen the guys in a while."

You bit your lip, trying to keep your disappointment in check. "But we haven’t seen each other in a while either."

He paused for a second, then ruffled your hair in a halfhearted gesture. "Come on, it’s not a big deal. I’ll see you tonight." Before you could argue further, he was already grabbing his gym bag and heading out the door.

---

Another day came, and he did the same.

Bakugo’s dedication to his work often left him exhausted, and his sleep schedule was all over the place.

One night, you stayed up late, waiting for him to come to bed.

You had something important to talk about, but he was still in the living room, sprawled out on the couch, catching up on sleep.

"Katsuki," you called softly, standing in the doorway.

He grunted, barely lifting his head. "What is it?"

"I wanted to talk to you about something. It’s been on my mind for a while."

He groaned, sitting up slightly. "Can it wait? I just got back from a double shift, and I’m dead tired."

"But it’s important," you insisted, stepping closer.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Y/n, I can’t deal with anything serious right now. Let’s talk tomorrow, okay?"

The next day came and went, and so did the conversation. You couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever get the timing right.

---

Then, of course, came another.

One evening, Bakugo was in the backyard, practicing his explosions while you watched from the patio.

You had been waiting for him to finish so you could spend some quality time together, but he was completely absorbed in his training.

"Hey, Katsuki," you called out, waving at him. "How much longer are you going to be out here?"

"Not now, babe," he shouted back, his voice carrying over the sound of crackling explosions. "I’m almost done!"

Almost turned into an hour, and by the time he came inside, you were curled up on the couch, half-asleep.

He walked past you, grabbing a water bottle from the kitchen.

"Sorry, I lost track of time," he said, but there was no apology in his tone.

You gave him a small smile, too tired to argue. "It’s okay," you mumbled, though deep down, you wondered if he even realized how much you had been waiting for him.

---

In each of these scenarios, Bakugo’s priorities—whether work, friends, or personal routines—seemed to overshadow his time with you. While his intentions might not be malicious, his actions often left you feeling overlooked and craving the attention he gave to everything else in his life.

───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

The evening was calm, the golden light of the setting sun filtering through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow across the counters.

You stood at the stove, carefully stirring the simmering pot of stew. The gentle aroma of sautéed vegetables, rich broth, and spices filled the air, blending seamlessly with the soft hum of the overhead fan.

Tonight, you had decided to prepare something special—something hearty and comforting, like the conversation you hoped to have with Bakugo.

It had been a while since the two of you had truly spent time together.

His hero work had consumed most of his days, leaving you with fleeting moments of his presence.

You understood, of course, the weight of his responsibilities, but that didn’t make the distance any easier.

So, as a gesture of love and an attempt to reconnect, you had spent the better part of the evening preparing this meal.

The kitchen was cozy, lit by the soft glow of under-cabinet lights.

Plates were set neatly on the table, silverware arranged perfectly beside them.

A bottle of chilled sparkling water stood in the center, and the faint crackle of the stovetop added a soothing rhythm to the room.

You glanced at the clock on the wall, noting the time. He should be home any minute now.

You adjusted the flame under the pot, letting the stew bubble gently, and moved to check on the freshly baked bread cooling on the counter.

The sound of the front door opening broke the quiet, followed by the rustling of heavy boots on the doormat.

Your heart gave a small flutter at the familiar noise.

He was home.

You didn’t look up from your task, your focus fixed on the pot as you gave it one last stir.

Toward the front door, the faint creak of the door closing reached your ears, followed by the soft thud of a duffle bag hitting the floor.

Bakugo’s presence filled the space immediately, even without a word.

The faint scent of smoke and ash mingled with the aroma of dinner, a signature of his return after a long day on patrol.

You heard the stretch of leather as he raised his arms high above his head, likely working out the stiffness from hours of action.

His footsteps echoed softly against the hardwood floor as he made his way down the hall.

You could picture him rubbing the back of his neck, his hair likely a mess from the day’s exertion.

The sound of his approach grew louder, each step deliberate yet unhurried, as if he were easing back into the calm of home.

You stayed at the stove, stirring slowly, waiting for him to join you in the kitchen, the moment of connection hanging in the air like the steam rising from the pot.

The clatter of the wooden spoon against the pot ceased as you set it down gently on the counter.

Wiping your hands on the apron tied snugly around your waist, you turned toward the kitchen's pillared entrance.

The soft shuffle of Bakugo’s steps nearing the kitchen tugged at your curiosity, and you couldn’t help but abandon your task momentarily.

You stepped around the corner, leaning casually against the frame of the kitchen entrance.

Resting your hand lightly on the wall, you peeked out toward him.

The sight of Bakugo, mid-stretch with his arms behind his head, immediately brought a fond smile to your lips.

His usual scowl was softened by a tiredness that clung to him, his messy ash-blond hair catching the dim light of the hallway.

He hadn’t noticed you yet, too busy absentmindedly rubbing the back of his neck, likely sore from a long day.

His broad shoulders rolled slightly as he worked out the tension, the faint sound of his knuckles popping filling the quiet space.

The corners of your lips curled further upward as you admired him in his element—worn out yet still exuding the confidence and strength you loved about him.

Before you could say anything, his crimson gaze lifted, finally catching sight of you standing there.

His expression didn’t shift much—just a subtle raise of his brows as if to acknowledge your presence.

You straightened slightly, your smile warm and inviting as you prepared to greet him.

But before you could utter a word, he spoke first, his gravelly voice breaking the silence.

“I’m going upstairs to shower. Gotta get this grime off my body.” His tone was matter-of-fact, and he started walking toward you without breaking stride, cracking his knuckles as he moved.

Your smile didn’t falter as he approached, though the hurriedness of his words made you hesitate. “Oh, well, that’s great,” you began, your voice light and teasing. “But don’t take too long becau—”

“Oh yeah, by the way, before I forget,” he interrupted, his voice cutting through yours without a hint of malice, just his usual bluntness. “The gang and I are gonna hang out later, so I won’t be home for long.”

The abruptness of his words hit you like a splash of cold water. Your mouth hung slightly open mid-sentence, the rest of your words caught in your throat.

Bakugo’s gaze didn’t linger long, already focused ahead as though his announcement was nothing out of the ordinary.

Bakugo’s heavy boots thudded softly against the wooden floor as he approached you, his expression unreadable but relaxed.

He stopped just in front of you, his tall frame towering slightly over yours.

The familiar scent of ash and sweat lingered faintly, a testament to his grueling day.

Without a word, his hand reached out, rough but warm, and landed gently on your head.

His fingers ruffled through your hair in a way that was both playful and dismissive, tousling it slightly.

A light smirk played on his lips as he pulled his hand back, his crimson eyes meeting yours briefly.

“I know you can handle things here, so I’ll leave you to it,” he said, his voice low and casual, like he hadn’t just brushed past the idea of spending time with you.

As you stood out in front of him, the confidence and courage you had gathered from cooking in the kitchen had disappeared.

Now that you felt this way, there was no way you were going to bring up spending time with him over dinner.

Even though you had spent all evening preparing this relaxing for the both of you to enjoy, you couldn’t bring yourself to to tell him.

You were scared that if you had opened up, he might have gotten angry and dismissed all your worries with his furrowed brows.

Your heart sank a little at his words, but you forced a small smile, not wanting to let it show.

He turned on his heel without a second glance, his footsteps carrying him toward the staircase that led to the second floor of your shared home.

As he walked, his broad shoulders swayed slightly, his relaxed demeanor a stark contrast to the tension that suddenly gripped your chest.

You stood frozen for a moment, your mouth hanging slightly open, the words you wanted to say stuck somewhere in your throat.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked rapidly, willing them away. You hated how they burned, how they threatened to spill over.

This wasn’t the first time Bakugo had brushed things off, but tonight, with the effort you’d put into dinner and the mounting distance you felt between you two, it stung more than usual.

He reached the first step of the staircase, his hand brushing against the railing as he prepared to ascend.

At you stood, something inside you snapped—a small but resolute voice urging you not to let the moment slip by.

Swallowing hard, you gathered the courage you had left, your voice trembling slightly but steady enough to cut through the air.

“Can I go too?”

Bakugo paused mid-step, his back still facing you, as the silence stretched between you both.

For a moment, you wondered if he had even heard you or if he’d continue up the stairs without a response.

Then, he turned his head slightly, revealing his side profile, his crimson eyes glancing at you.

“You wanna come?” he asked, his tone even and unreadable, a single brow raised in surprise.

Your hands instinctively came together, fidgeting as you avoided his gaze.

“Yeah,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Gathering a bit more courage, you glanced up at him, noticing his blank expression.

It only lasted a second before you looked down again, unsure how your request would be received. “I mean, if that’s okay…”

Bakugo stared at you for a beat longer, his brow still raised as if trying to gauge your seriousness.

Then, his features softened, his raised brow lowering as he gave a small, nonchalant nod.

“Yeah, uh, sure,” he said, his voice carrying a casualness that made it hard to tell how he really felt.

Without another word, he turned back toward the stairs.

Relief washed over you, and a small smile crept onto your face as you followed his movements with your eyes.

It wasn’t much, but his agreement made you feel a little better, a small step toward closing the gap that had been forming between you two.

As Bakugo reached the first step of the staircase, he stopped again, his hand on the railing.

He turned his head just enough to look back at you, his expression neutral but firm.

“I’m leaving by 6, so get ready,” he said, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Then, without waiting for a response, he ascended the stairs, his heavy footsteps echoing through the quiet house.

You stood there in the kitchen, your smile slowly fading as his words sank in.

Glancing at the half-finished dinner you’d worked so hard on, your arms dropped to your sides, mirroring the exhaustion settling in your chest.

The kitchen felt colder now, emptier, as you stood there alone, staring at the plans you’d made that now felt insignificant.

With a deep breath, you tried to shake off the weight of disappointment, forcing yourself to move and tidy up the counter.

But no matter how much you willed yourself to focus on the task at hand, the sting of his casual dismissal lingered, leaving a quiet ache in its wake.

───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

The soft hum of the Porsche's engine filled the quiet evening air as Bakugo sat in the driver’s seat, his hand drumming absentmindedly on the steering wheel.

His gaze occasionally flicked toward the house, his sharp crimson eyes scanning for any sign of you.

The minutes ticked by, and though he didn’t say it out loud, he was growing impatient.

But there was a part of him that understood why you were taking your time—he had sprung this last-minute outing on you, and you deserved a moment to get ready properly.

Inside, you were slipping on your white Converse, carefully tying the laces with precision.

The finishing touch to your outfit had just been added—a chic combination of blue jeans, a navy blue tank top, and a white cardigan that fell perfectly against your frame.

You smoothed down the fabric, giving yourself a once-over in the mirror by the door.

Your navy blue purse rested comfortably on your shoulder, and the messy bun you’d styled earlier sat perfectly atop your head, with the white headband completing the look.

Satisfied, you grabbed your keys and reached for the door handle.

As you stepped outside, the soft glow of the porch light illuminated your figure.

The evening air was cool against your skin, and the faint scent of freshly cut grass lingered.

You glanced toward the sleek black Porsche parked in the driveway, where Bakugo sat waiting for you.

Inside the car, Bakugo looked up as the light from the open door seeped out, drawing his attention.

His sharp gaze landed on you, and for a moment, his breath hitched.

You looked stunning—effortlessly chic yet understated, the kind of beauty that didn’t need to try too hard.

The way the soft curls framed your face, the navy blue of your tank top complementing your skin, and the casual elegance of your outfit made his heart skip a beat.

He blinked, trying to maintain his usual composure, but the faintest tint of pink crept onto his cheeks, betraying him.

It was subtle, just enough to hint at the effect you had on him, but it was there.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly as he tore his eyes away for a brief second, trying to recover.

"Damn," he muttered under his breath, glancing at the dashboard as if it could somehow distract him.

But his gaze inevitably drifted back to you, his expression softening in a way only you could bring out in him.

He didn't say anything just yet—he wasn’t the type to gush—but the way his cheeks betrayed a rare blush spoke volumes.

The soft hum of the Porsche’s engine was steady as Bakugo sat, his hand draped nonchalantly over the steering wheel while the other rested against his mouth.

His sharp crimson eyes flicked away from you as you descended the steps toward the car, trying to keep his focus elsewhere.

The blush that had crept onto his cheeks earlier lingered faintly, and though he wouldn’t admit it, seeing you like this had thrown him off his usual composure.

You opened the passenger door with care, stepping into the car and adjusting yourself in the plush seat.

The faint scent of Bakugo’s cologne mingled with the new-car smell, giving the cabin a warmth that was uniquely him.

As you closed the door gently behind you, you glanced up to see him leaning against the driver’s side, his elbow propped on the car door and his hand casually gripping the wheel.

His relaxed posture was natural, but the way his eyes darted toward you from the corners of his vision betrayed a subtle curiosity.

“Sorry I took so long,” you said softly, brushing a loose curl behind your ear.

Your voice broke the quiet tension, and you weren’t sure if you imagined his lips twitching into a faint smirk.

“It’s fine,” he replied, his tone gruff yet calm, as he adjusted himself in the seat and placed both hands on the wheel.

Hearing the simplicity of his response made you smile, a quiet warmth blooming in your chest.

You carefully removed your bag from your shoulder, placing it neatly on your lap.

Bakugo, meanwhile, shifted the car into reverse, the soft rumble of the engine vibrating beneath you as he backed out of the driveway with precision.

You stole a quick glance at him from the corners of your eyes.

The streetlights outside cast a warm, golden hue that framed his sharp jawline and stern features as he focused on maneuvering the car.

He looked so effortlessly confident, so in control—it was hard not to admire him.

Reaching up, you flipped open the vanity mirror above your head, giving yourself a quick once-over.

You smoothed down a stray curl and checked your lipstick, making sure everything was still in place.

Satisfied, you closed the mirror with a soft click and adjusted in your seat, letting your gaze wander back to him.

The quiet of the ride was broken only by the sound of the tires rolling over asphalt and the faint hum of the radio playing low in the background.

You bit your lip lightly, debating whether or not to say what had been on your mind.

Finally, you took a small breath, your fingers beginning to fidget nervously with the strap of your bag.

“Sooo…” you began, your voice tentative as you glanced out the window, gathering your thoughts.

Bakugo didn’t respond immediately, his focus remaining on the road ahead. His silence urged you to continue, so you did.

“How do I look?” you asked, your tone light yet tinged with curiosity.

Your gaze flickered toward him briefly before quickly looking back down at your lap, where your fingers continued to toy with your bag strap.

The quiet hum of the car filled the space between you and Bakugo, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

His eyes were fixed on the road, one hand on the wheel, while the other rested lazily on the gear shift.

You waited patiently, watching him through your peripheral vision, hoping for some kind of reaction to your question.

He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze momentarily darting toward you before returning to the street ahead.

The streetlights flickered as they passed, casting warm, golden hues across his sharp features.

His silence stretched on, and for a moment, you wondered if he hadn’t heard you.

Finally, Bakugo turned his head slightly, his crimson eyes flickering toward you.

His gaze traveled up and down, taking in the effort you’d put into your outfit—the way your cardigan fell over your tank top, the way your jeans fit perfectly, and the way you’d styled your hair just so.

His expression remained stoic, but his eyes lingered just a beat longer than usual before he turned back to the road.

“You look,” he began, his voice even though there was a slight edge of hesitation.

He glanced at you again, briefly meeting your expectant gaze before focusing back on the street.

You could see his jaw tighten slightly, as if he were searching for the right words. “Good.”

That was it. Just one single, lackluster word.

Your shoulders sank immediately, the corners of your mouth pulling down as disappointment washed over you.

You slumped back into the passenger seat, crossing your arms loosely over your chest and shifting your gaze out the window.

You had spent so much time getting ready, hoping that maybe this time, he’d notice—really notice—and say something that would make you feel special.

But “good” was all you got.

Bakugo, on the other hand, was far from unaffected, though he certainly didn’t show it.

His mind was racing, replaying the moment he’d glanced at you and the way your face had lit up with hope.

His knuckles tightened slightly on the steering wheel, and a bead of sweat formed at his temple as frustration with himself began to build.

His brows furrowed as he stole another glance at you.

You were staring out the window now, your expression unreadable but your body language screaming disappointment.

“Tch,” he muttered under his breath, gripping the wheel tighter.

You remained quiet, sinking further into your seat as the car rolled through the neighborhood streets.

Your fingers toyed with the edge of your cardigan, your mind replaying the moment over and over.

Maybe you’d set yourself up for disappointment.

Maybe this was just who he was—gruff, blunt, and not the type to shower you with compliments.

Still, you couldn’t help the small ache in your chest.

Bakugo’s jaw clenched as he continued to drive, the silence between you both growing heavier with each passing second.

───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

The drive to Kirishima’s house was silent, the tension lingering like an unspoken weight between you and Bakugo.

He didn’t try to make conversation, and honestly, you weren’t sure you’d be able to respond even if he did.

Your disappointment sat heavy in your chest, though you were doing your best to push it down and keep your composure.

When the car finally rolled to a stop in front of Kirishima’s house, Bakugo shifted into park and stepped out without a word, slamming his door behind him.

You sighed softly, your fingers gripping the strap of your purse as you reached for the handle of the passenger door.

Opening it, you slid out of the car, closing it gently behind you.

Bakugo was already several steps ahead, his strong strides carrying him toward the house without so much as a glance back at you.

You swallowed hard, your throat feeling tight as you followed behind him, your fingers nervously playing with the strap of your purse.

You felt small and distant, the space between you and Bakugo feeling far more than just physical.

As Bakugo reached the front porch, the sound of laughter and chatter drifted through the air, spilling out from behind the closed door.

The lively atmosphere of the gathering inside only seemed to amplify the quiet distance you felt from him.

Bakugo raised a hand and knocked on the door firmly, stepping back slightly as he waited.

You stopped a few paces behind him, your hands gripping your purse strap tightly as your mind raced.

You were determined to stand tall, to keep your emotions in check and not let anyone see how you were feeling.

The door swung open after a few seconds, revealing Kirishima’s grinning face.

His red hair was as wild as ever, and his cheerful energy was almost infectious.

“Yo, man! You made it!” Kirishima greeted Bakugo with a hearty slap on the shoulder before turning his attention to you. “Hey! Good to see you too!”

“Hey, Kiri,” you said softly, forcing a small smile as you stepped closer to the door.

“Come on in! Everyone’s already here,” Kirishima said, stepping aside to let the two of you in.

You followed Bakugo inside, the warmth and energy of the room enveloping you immediately.

Mina, Jirou, Denki, and Sero were sprawled out in the living room, laughing and chatting amongst themselves.

Mina was the first to notice your arrival, her eyes lighting up as she waved enthusiastically.

“Hey, you two!” Mina called out, jumping up from her seat and rushing over to you.

She wrapped you in a quick hug, her bubbly personality as bright as always. “You look so cute tonight! I love your outfit!”

“Thanks, Mina,” you replied, your smile faltering slightly as you glanced toward Bakugo.

He was already making his way toward the group, offering a brief nod of acknowledgment before settling into a seat near Sero.

Denki grinned, leaning back on the couch and tossing a chip into his mouth. “Look who finally decided to show up. We thought you might’ve bailed on us, Bakugo.”

“Shut it, Sparky,” Bakugo shot back, though there was no real bite in his tone.

As the group erupted into laughter, you found yourself lingering near the edge of the room, unsure where to place yourself.

Mina noticed your hesitation and grabbed your arm gently.

“Come sit with us! You can’t just stand there looking all pretty and quiet,” she teased, leading you toward the group.

You let her guide you, settling into a spot on the couch beside Jirou.

The lively conversation around you was a stark contrast to the swirling emotions in your chest, but you did your best to blend in, laughing when it felt appropriate and nodding along to the banter.

All the while, your eyes occasionally flicked toward Bakugo.

He was laughing with Sero and Denki, his usual gruff demeanor softened slightly by the presence of his friends.

But not once did he look your way, and that small detail gnawed at you more than you wanted to admit.

You inhaled deeply, forcing yourself to focus on the moment and not the ache in your chest.

Tonight was about being with friends, and you were determined to make the most of it, even if things with Bakugo felt more complicated than ever.

You sat on the couch, nestled between Jirou and Mina, trying to focus on their lively conversation.

Bakugo was across the room, laughing with Sero and Denki as if the weight of the world didn’t exist.

You glanced at him briefly, your chest tightening before quickly averting your eyes back to Mina, who was animatedly recounting a story about a recent date with Kirishima.

“So, get this,” Mina said, her face lit with excitement. “Kiri and I went to this new arcade last week, right? And they had this claw machine he swore he could beat. It was filled with these little red dragon plushies—totally his thing, you know?”

Jirou smirked, leaning back against the couch. “Let me guess. He spent way too much money trying to win one?”

“Way too much!” Mina exclaimed, throwing her hands up dramatically. “But he finally got it, and he was so proud of himself. It was adorable.” She giggled, her expression softening.

“Honestly, though, it’s not even about the claw machine. Kiri and I just… we have fun, you know? We go out, we talk about everything.”

Jirou nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “That’s exactly how it is with me and Denki. He’s a dork, but he’s my dork. We go to concerts, hang out at record stores, and just… talk. Like, really talk. He tells me about his day, his dreams, even the dumb stuff that happens during patrols. It’s nice, being so connected.”

The warmth in their voices as they spoke about their relationships was palpable, and it made you feel like a shadow in their light.

You shifted in your seat, suddenly hyper-aware of the tightness in your throat.

“And you,” Mina said, turning her bright eyes toward you. “How are things with you and Bakugo?”

Jirou tilted her head, her expression curious but kind. “Yeah, how’s it going? You two seem solid.”

The question hit you like a punch to the gut.

You opened your mouth, but no words came out at first.

Your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your cardigan, and you forced a smile, even as your chest felt like it was caving in.

“Oh, we’re fine,” you said, your voice a little too high-pitched. You cleared your throat quickly, trying to steady yourself. “Everything’s good. Really good.”

Mina beamed. “That’s great! You two are like, the power couple. I mean, he’s Bakugo—grumpy as hell but so in love with you. It’s obvious.”

“Totally,” Jirou added, nodding. “You balance each other out, right? He’s all intensity, and you’re like this calming presence. It works.”

You laughed softly, the sound hollow to your own ears. “Yeah, it works,” you echoed.

They bought it, smiling warmly at you before diving back into their own banter.

But inside, you felt like you were crumbling.

The truth was, things weren’t fine.

They hadn’t been for a while. Bakugo’s constant focus on work, his friends, and his own world had left you feeling like an afterthought.

You glanced at him again.

He was leaning back in his chair, laughing at something Denki said, his sharp features softened by the rare smile on his face.

It was a side of him you loved, but right now, it only made the ache in your chest worse.

Forcing yourself to stay present, you turned back to Mina and Jirou, nodding along to their conversation.

You couldn’t let them see the truth—not here, not now.

So you plastered on your smile and pretended everything was fine, even as the weight of your unspoken feelings threatened to crush you.

---

An hour passed as you, Mina, and Jirou chatted away about everything under the sun—relationships, patrol stories, and even a hilarious moment when Denki shocked himself trying to fix a broken lamp.

Despite the warmth of their company, a small part of you still felt detached, your earlier feelings lingering like a shadow.

Mina, ever the bubbly one, suddenly perked up. “Hey, I just thought of something! Let’s go to the other room and watch a movie! I’ve been dying to see that new romance everyone’s talking about. What do you think?”

Jirou shrugged, a hint of a smile on her face. “Sounds good to me. I could use a break from all the noise out there.”

You hesitated, but the thought of getting away from the others, even for a little while, seemed appealing. “Yeah, sure,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

The three of you made your way to a quieter room down the hall.

It was cozier than the bustling main area, with soft lighting and a plush couch that wrapped around most of the room.

The atmosphere immediately felt more intimate and calm, a perfect escape.

Mina grabbed the remote and flopped onto one side of the couch. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road!”

Jirou settled next to her, her legs tucked beneath her while you took the other end of the couch.

The movie started, its opening scenes filled with charming banter and budding romance.

The three of you fell into a comfortable silence, the story drawing you in.

As the movie progressed, the lighthearted moments gave way to more emotional scenes.

The characters faced challenges, their love tested by misunderstandings and miscommunications.

Then, the pivotal scene arrived.

The male lead stood in the rain, his face etched with regret as he argued with the female lead.

Her voice broke as she shouted, tears streaming down her face. “You don’t get it! I feel invisible to you!” she cried, her words hitting too close to home for your comfort.

Your chest tightened as you watched her crumble, her emotions raw and unfiltered.

The male lead, realizing his mistake, stepped forward and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as she sobbed against his chest.

Your heart ached, the scene striking a chord that you couldn’t ignore.

The floodgates opened, and before you knew it, tears were streaming down your face.

Your breathing grew shallow, and your palms began to sweat as you clutched the couch cushion beside you.

Mina and Jirou, engrossed in the movie, didn’t seem to notice your reaction at first.

But as you sniffled quietly, Jirou glanced over, her expression softening. “Hey, you okay?” she asked, her voice gentle.

You quickly wiped your cheeks, forcing a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just… really emotional,” you said, your voice wavering slightly.

Mina turned her head, concern flickering in her eyes. “It’s okay to cry, you know. Scenes like this get me every time,” she said, offering you a reassuring smile.

You nodded, appreciating their kindness but feeling exposed nonetheless.

The movie continued, but your mind was elsewhere.

The female lead’s words echoed in your head, intertwining with your own unspoken feelings.

“I feel invisible to you.”

The weight of those words settled in your chest, and though you tried to focus on the screen, the tears wouldn’t stop.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to keep it together, but the truth was, you felt more vulnerable than ever.

The tears came harder, no longer quiet sniffles but soft, trembling sobs that you couldn’t hold back.

The scene on the screen blurred as your vision clouded with tears, and your chest felt impossibly heavy.

Mina and Jirou both turned toward you, their expressions shifting from casual concern to alarm.

“Whoa, hey… are you okay?” Jirou asked, leaning closer, her voice gentle but tinged with worry.

Mina’s brows furrowed, her lips pressing into a thin line.

She grabbed the remote and paused the movie, the room falling into silence except for your shaky breaths.

She scooted closer to you, her hand resting lightly on your arm.

“Alright,” Mina said firmly, her tone serious but warm. “What’s going on? This isn’t just about the movie, is it?”

You shook your head quickly, trying to wipe the tears away with the back of your hand, but they just kept coming.

“It’s nothing,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jirou gave you a skeptical look. “Come on, don’t do that. You’re obviously upset.”

Mina nodded, her grip on your arm tightening just slightly in encouragement. “Yeah, we’re here for you. So whatever it is, just say it.”

For a moment, you hesitated.

The lump in your throat made it hard to speak, and you didn’t want to burden them with your feelings.

But the way they looked at you, genuinely concerned and ready to listen, broke down the last of your defenses.

“It’s… it’s Bakugo,” you finally admitted, your voice cracking as fresh tears rolled down your cheeks. “I just… I feel like we’re drifting apart.”

Mina’s eyes softened, and Jirou tilted her head slightly, her expression thoughtful.

“What do you mean? Did something happen?” Mina asked, leaning forward, her tone gentle now.

You took a shaky breath, your hands fidgeting nervously in your lap. “I don’t know… it’s like he’s always so busy, and when he’s home, it’s like I’m not even there. He doesn’t notice when I try to do things for him. I cooked dinner tonight, hoping we could eat together and talk, but he just brushed it off and left to hang out with you guys.”

Mina’s face fell, a pang of guilt crossing her features. Jirou’s lips pressed together, her brow furrowing.

“I know he’s a hero, and I know his job is demanding, but… I just feel so invisible to him sometimes. Like I’m not a priority,” you continued, your voice trembling. “And I’m trying so hard to be okay with it, but it’s just… it’s hard.”

Mina reached for your hand, squeezing it tightly. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “I didn’t realize things were like this.”

Jirou nodded, her gaze serious. “That sounds really tough. You shouldn’t have to feel like that, especially not with someone who’s supposed to care about you.”

You sniffled, grateful for their support, but still feeling the weight of your emotions. “I don’t know what to do anymore. I love him, but… it feels like he’s slipping away.”

Mina wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a comforting hug. “You’re not alone in this, okay? We’ll figure it out. And honestly, Bakugo needs to hear this too. He probably doesn’t even realize how much he’s hurting you.”

Jirou nodded in agreement. “Yeah, he’s not exactly the most emotionally aware guy, but he cares about you. You just have to tell him how you feel.”

Their words brought a small measure of comfort, but the thought of confronting Bakugo about your feelings still terrified you.

You knew they were right, though. Something had to change.

You sat there in Mina’s embrace, your tears slowly subsiding, though your chest still felt tight.

The weight of their words lingered, and you knew they were right.

As terrifying as it seemed, you had to talk to Bakugo.

But how? He wasn’t exactly the type to sit down and have a heart-to-heart.

Mina pulled back slightly, her warm hands resting on your shoulders as she looked you in the eye. “You have to tell him,” she said firmly.

“And not in a ‘hinting’ kind of way. Lay it all out. He’s not good at picking up subtle stuff.”

Jirou nodded, leaning back on the couch. “Yeah, Bakugo’s not gonna magically figure it out. But if you’re honest with him, I think he’ll listen. He’s stubborn, but he’s not heartless.”

You sniffled, wiping your face with the sleeve of your cardigan. “I just… I don’t want to come off as needy or like I don’t support him. I know how hard he works.”

Mina sighed, shaking her head. “Girl, no. This isn’t about being needy. This is about being in a relationship where you feel seen and loved. You’re allowed to have needs, too.”

Jirou added, “And honestly? If he doesn’t get that, then that’s on him. Relationships are about both people putting in effort. It’s not all on you.”

You nodded slowly, their words sinking in.

It wasn’t easy to hear, but deep down, you knew they were right.

You couldn’t keep bottling everything up and hoping things would magically improve.

Mina smiled softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Look, Bakugo might be a hothead, but he’s not a bad guy. If he knew you were feeling this way, I think he’d do something about it. But you’ve got to give him the chance to step up.”

You sighed, fiddling with the strap of your purse. “I guess I’ll try talking to him later… when we’re alone.”

“Good,” Mina said with a nod, her tone encouraging. “And if you need backup, you know where to find us.”

Jirou smirked slightly. “Yeah, we’ll set him straight if he doesn’t get the message.”

The three of you shared a small laugh, the tension easing just a bit.

Mina grabbed the remote and turned the movie off completely, standing up and stretching.

“Alright, let’s get back to the others before they start wondering what we’re up to.”

You nodded, standing up and smoothing out your clothes.

As the three of you made your way back to the main living room, you felt a mix of emotions swirling inside you.

Anxiety, hope, and determination all competed for space in your heart.

As you stepped into the room, Bakugo was standing near the corner with Kirishima, laughing at something Sero had said.

His usual sharp smirk was etched on his face, but there was something different in the way his eyes flickered toward you, a hint of something unreadable beneath his confident exterior.

For a moment, you just watched him, debating how you’d navigate the rest of the evening while the conversation with Mina and Jirou still echoed in your mind.

What you didn’t know, however, was that Bakugo had heard everything.

It wasn’t intentional.

On his way to the bathroom earlier, he had walked past the closed door of the cozy room where you and the girls had been talking.

At first, he hadn’t thought much of it—just chatter from Mina and Jirou, nothing unusual.

But then he caught the sound of your voice, trembling slightly, and his feet had stopped.

He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. Really, he hadn’t.

But something in your tone made him pause, leaning against the hallway wall just out of sight.

He listened as Mina and Jirou pressed you about how things were going between the two of you.

He heard the way your voice wavered when you said everything was fine—so unconvincing that even he could tell it was a lie.

And then came the confession.

You weren’t happy.

You felt ignored, neglected.

You felt like he didn’t see you anymore.

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe.

You, the person he cared about most, felt like you were slipping away, and he hadn’t even noticed.

His knuckles clenched, and his jaw tightened as he leaned his head back against the wall.

Guilt surged through him, hot and unrelenting. He wasn’t great with emotions; he knew that.

But hearing you spill your heart out to your friends, feeling like he didn’t care enough—it stung more than he wanted to admit.

When Mina and Jirou encouraged you to talk to him, he heard the hesitation in your voice, the fear of being seen as needy or overbearing.

It made his chest ache. You should never feel like that—not with him.

He had walked away before you left the room, needing a moment to collect himself.

By the time he rejoined the group, his mind was racing.

As you stepped into the living room, Mina nudged you gently with her elbow. “You’ve got this,” she whispered before heading to the group, leaving you to take a deep breath and square your shoulders.

Bakugo, standing near the corner, glanced your way.

His sharp smirk remained, but his eyes lingered on you a little longer than usual, softening for the briefest second before he turned back to Kirishima and the others.

He didn’t say anything, but in the back of his mind, he was already planning.

He wouldn’t let you feel like this again. Not if he could help it.

---

The night had wound down, and one by one, everyone began saying their goodbyes.

Mina and Kirishima gave you tight hugs, Mina giving you a reassuring smile as if to silently remind you of the conversation you’d had.

Jirou patted your arm, her subtle way of showing she was rooting for you.

Bakugo, meanwhile, was his usual self—casual nods, a few gruff “See ya’s,” and a fist bump for Kirishima.

His energy seemed as steady as ever, though you noticed the way his eyes flickered toward you more than once, a slight crease in his brow that he didn’t quite hide.

As the two of you made your way to his car, the quietness of the night enveloped you.

The cool breeze brushed against your skin, and the sound of your shoes crunching against the gravel filled the silence.

You felt Bakugo’s presence ahead of you, his confident stride unchanging, though he occasionally glanced back to make sure you were keeping up.

When you reached the car, he pulled his keys from his pocket, unlocked the doors, and slid into the driver’s seat.

You followed, gently closing the passenger door behind you and placing your bag on the floor by your feet.

The faint scent of leather and his cologne filled the space, a scent you usually found comforting.

Without a word, Bakugo started the engine.

The low rumble of the car filled the stillness as he pulled out of the driveway and onto the street.

His hands rested on the wheel, firm but relaxed, his eyes trained on the road ahead.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, trying to read his expression, but it was the same stoic mask he always wore.

The weight of the evening felt heavy in your chest, and despite the warmth of the car, you felt a chill run through you.

The drive was quiet at first, the soft hum of the engine the only sound between you.

You wanted to say something, anything, but the words felt stuck in your throat.

You fidgeted with your fingers, your gaze shifting between the passing streetlights outside and Bakugo’s profile.

He hadn’t said much since you left Kirishima’s house, and it left you wondering if he’d noticed the distance between you—or if it even mattered to him at all.

Bakugo’s hands tightened slightly on the wheel as he drove, his jaw clenching and unclenching as if he was working through something in his mind.

His gaze remained steady, but every now and then, you noticed his eyes flicker toward you, though he said nothing.

The silence was deafening, and with every passing second, it felt like the space between you grew larger.

Finally, unable to take the tension anymore, you shifted in your seat and let out a soft sigh, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Thanks for driving,” you said, your tone polite but distant.

He grunted in response, a low “Yeah,” his focus still on the road.

The quiet settled again, heavier this time, and you found yourself staring out the window, the lights of the city blurring past.

You wanted to say more, to breach the gap between you, but something held you back.

Bakugo, meanwhile, stole another glance at you, his expression unreadable.

He wanted to speak, to address the weight in the air, but the words felt foreign to him.

For now, he just drove, the road stretching ahead, both of you caught in your own thoughts.

The car hummed softly as the city lights flickered past, but the silence between you and Bakugo felt louder than anything else.

You leaned your head against the cool glass of the window, your eyes fixed on the blurred scenery.

Your hand rested on your lap, fingers nervously fidgeting with your nails as your thoughts raced.

What had started as disappointment had now spiraled into uncertainty.

You couldn’t shake the weight of the conversation with Mina and Jirou, nor the growing chasm between you and Bakugo.

You’d tried so hard to keep it together, but being here, so close yet feeling so far, made it even harder.

Bakugo kept his eyes on the road, his grip on the wheel firm.

Inside, he was battling a storm of emotions.

The echoes of your words from earlier replayed in his mind, mingling with the snippets of the conversation he’d overheard at Kirishima’s.

“I just… I don’t know how much more I can take.”

He wasn’t good with words.

Hell, he wasn’t even good at feelings most of the time. But he wasn’t stupid—he could feel the distance, and it frustrated him because he didn’t know how to close it.

His crimson eyes flickered to you briefly.

The way you sat there, so quiet and withdrawn, tugged at something deep in his chest.

He hated seeing you like this, especially knowing he’d been the one to make you feel this way.

After what felt like forever, Bakugo’s resolve finally cracked.

His hand hesitated on the wheel, fingers tightening for a moment before he let out a sharp breath.

Slowly, almost cautiously, he reached over.

His hand covered yours, warm and slightly rough, the weight of it grounding you.

You blinked, startled by the sudden contact, and turned your head to look at him.

Bakugo didn’t meet your gaze right away.

His eyes stayed focused on the road ahead, his jaw tight, like he was bracing himself for something.

His thumb shifted slightly, brushing against your fingers in an awkward but earnest gesture.

“Hey,” he said, his voice quieter than usual, almost hesitant. “Stop doin’ that.”

You stared at him, confused. “Doing what?”

“Fidgetin’ like that,” he muttered, finally glancing at you for a split second before looking back at the road. “You’ll mess up your nails or somethin’.”

His words were gruff, almost dismissive, but the way his hand stayed on yours told you there was more to it.

He wasn’t just talking about your fidgeting—he was trying, in his own clumsy way, to tell you he cared.

Your chest tightened as you looked down at your joined hands.

The warmth of his touch, the slight awkwardness of the gesture—it all made your emotions bubble up again, but this time, they weren’t as heavy.

“Katsuki…” you began, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t,” he interrupted, his grip on your hand tightening just a fraction. “Don’t say it. Not here, not like this.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat, and leaned back against the seat.

For the first time that evening, the silence between you didn’t feel quite as suffocating.

The car came to an abrupt stop at a red light, but the tension in the car felt like it had slammed into a wall at full speed.

Bakugo’s hand hovered over the wheel, his knuckles white as he gripped it.

His chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, but your anger was a storm now, and it couldn’t be contained.

“Seriously?” you demanded, your voice sharp and trembling. “If not here, then where? If not now, then when?”

Your hand yanked away from his, the warmth of his touch replaced by the cold sting of frustration. “You always say that, Bakugo. You always brush our problems away. You… you brush me off like I’m some kind of bug.”

His eyes darted to you, his lips parting as if to defend himself, but you didn’t give him the chance.

“You treat me like I’m not worth your time,” you continued, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “Do you even know what I was doing before you came home? I was cooking dinner. For you. For us.”

Your hands shook as you gestured toward him, your words pouring out in a rush. “I did all of that so we could talk, so we could try to fix this. Just so I could know—know for sure—that I mean something to you.”

The light turned green, and Bakugo hit the gas with a little more force than necessary, his jaw tight as he stayed silent.

But you couldn’t stop now.

“But of course,” you spat, your voice rising, “your friends are more important! Work, training, hangouts—all of it is more important than me!”

The car swerved slightly as Bakugo’s grip faltered, and he shot you a glance, his brows furrowed in frustration and guilt. “But they’re not! You’re more important—”

“Don’t give me that crap!” you cut him off, your voice almost a shout now. “If I’m so important, then why do you keep pushing me away? Why do you make time for everyone and everything else but not for me? Huh? Answer me!”

Bakugo’s mouth opened, but no words came out. His silence was deafening, and it only stoked the fire inside you.

“Why, Katsuki?” you pressed, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. “Why do I have to fight so hard to feel like I matter to you?”

The car pulled into your driveway, and Bakugo threw it into park, his hands gripping the wheel so tightly it looked like he might snap it in two.

For a moment, the only sounds were your ragged breaths and the faint hum of the engine.

Finally, Bakugo exhaled sharply and turned to you, his crimson eyes filled with a mixture of guilt, frustration, and something else—something softer, something that looked a lot like regret.

“You do matter,” he said, his voice low but firm. “You mean everything to me, damn it. I just… I don’t know how to show it.”

But you shook your head, the tears you’d been holding back finally spilling over. “That’s not enough, Katsuki. It’s not enough to just say it. I need to feel it. And right now, I don’t.”

Your words hung in the air, heavy and unshakable, as Bakugo stared at you, his expression unreadable.

For once, the explosive hero had no words, and the silence between you felt like it could split the world in two.

Your chest heaved as the emotions you’d been holding in for so long spilled over.

Tears streamed down your face, your voice trembling and raw as you finally let everything out.

“Why couldn’t you have just spent time with me?” you cried, your voice breaking as your gaze locked on Bakugo.

He flinched at the pain in your voice but said nothing, his hands clenching into tight fists on his lap.

“Why couldn’t you see that while you were having fun, I was feeling miserable?!” you continued, your words cutting through the silence like shards of glass.

Bakugo’s eyes darted toward you, filled with a mix of guilt and helplessness, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop.

“Listen, Katsuki...” you began, your voice softer but no less intense. “I love you. So much it hurts.” Your words hung in the air, trembling with sincerity. “But it’s starting to feel like... like you don’t feel the same.”

His head snapped up at that, his crimson eyes wide and frantic. “That’s not true!” he blurted, his voice rough and unsteady. “Don’t—don’t say that, alright?”

But you shook your head, your tears falling harder now. “Then why does it feel like I’m always fighting for your attention? Fighting for a moment of your time?”

Your voice cracked, and you pressed a trembling hand to your chest, as if trying to hold yourself together.

Bakugo opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

His jaw tightened, and his gaze fell to his lap, his fingers gripping his knees so hard it looked painful.

You could see the frustration, the guilt, the turmoil swirling in his expression, but it wasn’t enough.

It didn’t fix the ache in your heart.

“I don’t want to feel like this anymore,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Like I’m not enough for you. Like I’m not your priority.”

Bakugo’s head snapped up again, his eyes blazing with emotion. “You are my priority!” he insisted, his voice desperate now.

“You’re everything to me, alright? I just... I just don’t know how to handle all this shit sometimes!”

His voice cracked at the end, and for the first time, you saw something in him you rarely did—vulnerability.

He looked at you like he wanted to say a million things but didn’t know where to start.

But it wasn’t enough. Not yet.

“Then show me, Katsuki,” you said, your voice steady despite the tears streaming down your face. “If I mean so much to you, then show me. Because words aren’t enough anymore.”

His breath hitched, and for a moment, the only sound in the car was the faint hum of the engine.

Bakugo looked at you, really looked at you, and for once, the explosive hero seemed completely lost.

Bakugo’s chest rose and fell with unsteady breaths as he stared at you, his crimson eyes shadowed with guilt and frustration.

He opened his mouth to respond, but the words seemed to die in his throat.

His hands clenched tighter on his lap, and he turned his gaze to the steering wheel, as if looking at you was too much to bear.

The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating.

You could feel your heart breaking all over again as you watched him struggle to say something—anything—that could make it better.

“You’re right,” he finally said, his voice low and strained. “I’ve been a shitty boyfriend.”

The admission startled you.

Your breath hitched, and you blinked through your tears as you waited for him to continue.

“I’ve been so focused on everything else—work, training, trying to keep up with everyone—that I didn’t realize what it was doing to you. To us.”

He dragged a hand through his hair, the motion rough and frustrated. “And that’s on me.”

His voice trembled slightly, and he slammed his fist against the steering wheel, the sharp thud breaking the tense quiet. “Dammit, I didn’t mean to make you feel like this. Like you don’t matter.”

You watched him, your tears still falling, but something in his voice tugged at your heart.

It wasn’t just guilt; it was desperation.

“But you do, alright?” he said, turning to face you fully now. His crimson eyes locked onto yours, raw and unguarded.

“You matter more than anything else in my life. I just... I don’t know how to balance it all without screwing it up.”

His hands trembled as they rested on his thighs, and you realized how much it was costing him to admit this.

Bakugo Katsuki, the man who always seemed so sure of himself, so strong and unshakable, was unraveling in front of you.

“You’re not the problem, alright? I am,” he continued, his voice softer now. “And I swear to you, I’ll fix this. I’ll fix us. Just... don’t give up on me yet.”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his words, but the pain you’d been carrying for so long still lingered.

You looked at him, your tears blurring your vision, and took a shaky breath.

“Katsuki, I’m not asking for perfection,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I’m asking for you to try. To make me feel like I’m worth it. Like we’re worth it.”

He nodded, his jaw tight as he swallowed hard.

“I will,” he said, his voice firm despite the emotion in his eyes. “I’ll prove it to you. I’ll be better. For you.”

You stared at him, searching his face for sincerity, and what you saw there made something in your chest loosen.

He looked at you like you were his whole world—like he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.

For the first time in a long time, you felt a flicker of hope. It was small, fragile, but it was there.

“Okay,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Bakugo nodded again, his eyes never leaving yours. “You can.”

The car fell into silence again, but this time, it wasn’t heavy or suffocating.

It was filled with unspoken promises, with the beginnings of something better.

And for now, that was enough.

---

Bakugo’s hand enveloped yours, firm yet gentle, as if he was anchoring himself to you.

The warmth of his grasp communicated what his words had struggled to convey earlier—a need, a desire to hold on to you no matter what.

The silence in the car was filled with unspoken understanding as you both sat there, the weight of the evening settling between you.

When the car finally pulled into your driveway, you barely had time to move before Bakugo was already out of the driver’s seat.

He strode purposefully around the car, his movements sharp yet filled with intent.

You blinked in surprise as he opened the passenger door, crouching down to your level.

His crimson eyes met yours, raw and unguarded. “You mean a lot to me,” he began, his voice steady but thick with emotion.

“So much... and I’m sorry for not showing you.”

Your breath caught in your throat as his words tumbled out, each one more heartfelt than the last.

“I’m sorry for not replying. I’m sorry for not being there. I’m sorry for not showing up,” he continued, his voice cracking slightly as he leaned closer.

“I promise, though, from now on... everything I do, I’ll do it with you on my mind.”

His hands found their way to your thighs, a touch so gentle and deliberate it sent a shiver through you.

It wasn’t just an apology—it was a plea, a vow.

“I promise you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “that from now on, I’ll do everything in my power to make you feel loved. So please, don’t give up on me. Please, don’t lose hope.”

Your heart clenched at the vulnerability in his tone, the rawness of his confession.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you managed a small, wavering smile as you placed your hand over his.

“You swear?” you asked, your voice trembling with emotion.

His grip on your thigh tightened just slightly, his crimson eyes boring into yours with unwavering determination.

“I promise,” he said, his voice firm yet soft.

That was all you needed to hear.

A small, genuine smile spread across your lips as you nodded.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt the weight lifting off your chest.

After a moment, Bakugo stepped back slightly, holding out his hand to you.

You placed your hand in his, and he helped you out of the car with a gentleness that contrasted his usual brash demeanor.

Once you were both standing, he didn’t hesitate—he pulled you into a tight, almost desperate hug.

His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you as if he was afraid you’d slip away.

His head rested against your shoulder, and you could feel the tension in his body slowly melting away.

“I missed you,” you whispered, your fingers threading gently through his spiky blonde hair.

“I missed you more,” he murmured against your shoulder, his voice low and filled with emotion.

You stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other’s warmth, the world around you fading into insignificance.

It was as if time had paused, giving you both a chance to reconnect, to heal.

When he finally pulled back, his hands still rested on your waist, and his gaze locked onto yours.

The intensity in his eyes took your breath away, and before you could say anything, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

It wasn’t just a kiss—it was an apology, a promise, a declaration.

His lips moved against yours with a fervor that made your knees weak, his hands tightening slightly on your waist as if to ground himself.

You responded just as passionately, pouring every ounce of love, frustration, and hope into the kiss.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together.

His crimson eyes softened as he looked at you, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “For not giving up on me.”

You smiled back, your hand coming up to cup his cheek. “Just don’t make me regret it.”

He chuckled softly, his voice lighter than it had been all evening. “I won’t. I swear.”

In that moment, standing together in the driveway under the soft glow of the porch light, you felt something shift between you.

A new beginning, built on honesty and love. And for the first time in a long time, you believed things could truly get better.

ADULT BAKUGO FANFICTION

[littlcdarlin]

My Burning Sun Will Someday Rise

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 || read on AO3

summary: Reader goes on a beach vacation with Joel after her father breaks his leg. tags: daddy kink, big age gap (Joel is 49, reader is 23), dbf!Joel, Joel has a lovely belly, Joel is a little mean, praise kink, Joel calls reader "kid", unprotected piv, creampie, cunnilingus, sexual tension, blow jobs, smut with a little bit of plot, no use of Y/N, afab!reader, reader has hair (will add more as I add more parts)

note: The devil works fast but I work faster. New multi chapter smut fic inspired by those damn new Pedro pics in the works…enjoy part 1! I haven't planned all of the smut scenes, so if you have any requests for specific kinks/scenes, do let me know!

He’s dead fucking wrong. You love your father, enough to not immediately say no, but he’s wrong. It’s true you could use a girls’ trip, perhaps even a couple of days out of town with your Dad, and he’s not entirely off about university being the death of you, kiddo – you’ve spent one too many nights inhaling coffee and cramming for your finals. The idea of an all-inclusive trip is tempting, given the fact that all you manage to eat these days is pasta and store-bought pesto, if that.

Nevertheless, you need to keep studying, there’s less than two weeks left until your exams, and although the trip is only a couple of days, you don’t know Joel.

Sure, you’ve been to his barbecues, and he let you use his bike one year when yours was stolen and your Dad refused to buy you a new one, because you should have locked it up in the first place. You know how he patched up your Dad after the divorce – you never worried about your mother, who was heartbroken, but able to talk about it to her family and friends. Your Dad was the one you spent sleepless nights over. The way the beer bottles accumulated in his garage, how distant he seemed on the phone. You know it was Joel who looked after him, made sure he left the house and had anything edible inside it. You’re grateful for it, you are, but you don’t really know him. For most of your life, he has been a friendly smile and wave over a fence, and you’re shy around people you know much better than the occasional hey kid, you back for the summer? or if you see your Dad, tell him I borrowed his screwdriver, I’ll put it back tomorrow.

You do feel slightly guilty your Dad can’t go on his trip. He broke his leg, and although it’s not entirely your fault he slipped, you had been the one to mop the stairs right before the accident. As much as your Dad was looking forward to his vacation, after a week he had to admit a beach holiday would be little fun with a whole leg in plaster.

You sigh, staring at your phone screen, tapping on it every once in a while to keep it from turning black. He’s expecting an answer soon, you know he is. Who the hell books non-refundable trips anyway? When you get the time, you’ll need to tell him about a lovely invention that is insurance.

You glance over at the stack of unfinished coursework on your desk, your laptop taunting you with its quiet – no responses to the millions of job applications you have sent out have come through. At this rate, you’ll be jobless in a couple of months, when you finish your degree. You’ll have to live with either of your parents forever, no money for any sort of vacation whatsoever.

"Oh, screw it,“ you mutter, unlocking your phone, and typing quickly.

I’ll do it. Only because my A+ cleaning is the reason you can’t go. Tell Joel to bring something to read, I need to study.

***

"It’d be a shame if it went to waste, kiddo, I’m glad you’re doing this.“

"Yeah,“ you answer, thinking of the endless powerpoint slides you haven’t even looked at yet. "Maybe studying at the beach works wonders.“

There’s a knock on the door, and you move to open it, your Dad chained to his chair by his broken leg. You’re not particularly excited about the smalltalk you’ll have to make with your Dad’s friend, but if you remember correctly, Joel is as much the quiet type as you are, and might actually appreciate your studying. Great, you think, at least one of us will enjoy it, then.

When you open the door, the first thing that strikes you is how hard you find it to envision Joel at the beach – he’s all mountains and trees to you, with his lumberjack boots and flannel shirt. His smile is friendly, and only gains warmth when he notices the critical look you give his outfit.

"I know,“ he says, voice deep and quiet, "I’m king of dressing for the occasion.“

You grin, and open the door wider.

"Come on in. Dad’s in the living room. What’s with the…uh…“

Your voice trails off, as you gesture towards his distinctly un-vacationy clothes.

"Thought you might bail,“ Joel answers easily, stepping into the house. "Can’t imagine you’re overly thrilled about this.“

You think about denying it, but this is your chance to come clean about how you would much prefer keeping to yourself and preparing for your finals, so you sigh.

"Well, it’s kinda my fault Dad was, like, almost paralyzed from the neck down, so I figured the least I could do was not let his trip go to waste. I’ve got finals in two weeks, so the timing is…suboptimal.“

"Yeah, your Dad said. I brought reading material, so I won’t bother you too much.“

He’s easy, you realize. Easy to talk to, and easy to accept your reluctance to bond with an almost-stranger, quick to make you feel comfortable by hinting at that boundary. You smile back, and are struck by how he holds your eye contact until you break it yourself, nodding towards your suitcase.

"Think this will fit inside the car?“

"Sure,“ he answers, "I’ve got a Bronco.“

You have no idea what that means, but you assume it’s a good thing, so you smile vaguely.

"It’s an SUV,“ Joel explains with a hint of good-natured amusement in his voice.

"Right,“ you say, attempting to overplay your obvious lack in car-knowledge, "SUV. One of the big ones.“

It makes Joel smile again, and you notice the wrinkles around his eyes that make his face look all sunny. 

"Yeah,“ he says. "One of the big ones.“

You lead him into the living room to say good-bye to your Dad, who’s expression is a weird mixture of sombre and excited at the sight of his daughter and best friend getting ready to drive to the airport.

"Take care of her, Joel,“ he says, when you’re getting ready to leave.

"Don’t worry,“ Joel answers with a pat to your father’s arm. "I’ve got her.“

"I’m twenty-three,“ you remind your father, "I’ve done more dangerous things than a trip to the beach.“

"Yeah, but you’re still my little girl,“ he answers with a smile, squeezing your hand. You squeeze back, though his comment irritates you.

"See ya, Dad. Call me if something’s wrong with your leg, alright?“

"Sure, kiddo. Have fun, you two, and bring me a seashell.“

Joel grins at the open envy on your Dad’s face.

"We’ll go on another trip next year,“ he says in an attempt to cheer him up.

"Yeah, yeah,“ your Dad answers, glancing at his watch. "Better get going, or you’ll miss the flight.“

"We’ll be fine, Joel’s got a fast car,“ you argue, "A Bronco. That’s an SUV.“

Joel snorts.

***

Joel lets you take the window seat and plops down next to you, legs slightly spread so as to fit into the little space the two of you have. His leg nudges yours, and he pulls it back immediately, though you can see how uncomfortable it must be with his knees pressing into the seat in front of him. You move your legs towards the window with a glance at Joel, who looks grateful and is able to relax his muscles into a more comfortable position without invading your space.

"Thanks,“ he mutters, "Fucking hate flying.“

So do you, though not because you’re too big to fit into the space, and not because you’re afraid – mostly because it’s boring. Sure, takeoff is exciting, but you get nauseous from watching movies and the plane is much too loud to really enjoy your music the way you would lying on your bed at home. You could study, you suppose, but you tell yourself you wouldn’t be able to concentrate and kick your backpack further under your seat. Joel notices and chuckles.

"Finals, huh? You almost done with your degree?“

You can’t imagine him finding your boring university struggles interesting, but you’re not exactly fantastic at smalltalk, so you take the conversation he’s offering you.

"I’ve got one more year, but I’ve got to do a six month internship, and write my thesis, so yeah, this is, like, the last of my regular classes and exams.“

"You enjoy it?“

The question is strikingly honest, like he really wants to know, like it’s fine if you don’t. You look at him, his eyes already on your face, and for a second you think how handsome he is. You didn’t notice before, when he was just the owner of a bike you could conveniently borrow, when life was all skinned knees and staying up till sun-down. Now, he looks like an equal, like someone who wants to know about your life, someone you want to know about yourself. The change is a little unsettling, but thrilling. You realize you haven’t answered him, so you clear your throat.

"Sure, it’s alright. Not what I would have done if money didn’t matter, but it does, so…I can be content with it.“

Joel considers this, eyes still lingering on your face, as the plane starts speeding up for takeoff.

"What would you do if money didn’t matter?“

You shrug, and smile to yourself.

"Creative writing, maybe. Or English lit.“

"You always were the smart one in your family,“ Joel answers with a chuckle.

You glance at him, and feel a pang of something warm in your stomach as he compliments you. When the plane takes off, you look out of the window, but get the feeling Joel’s eyes keep looking at you. It makes your skin prickle, though not at all unpleasantly.

***

You get to the hotel when the sun is high in the sky, burning the top of your head and making you long for a shower and an ice-cold coke. Joel courteously carries your suitcase and although you don’t want to inconvenience him, you don’t mind the way his muscles bulge under the weight, arms straining against the navy shirt he had underneath his flannel. You wonder how he’s not suffocating in the heat, wearing his thick jeans and boots.

When you get to the front desk, he fishes his phone out of his pocket, searching for his reservation details with furrowed brows. You smile when you notice he uses two hands to scroll. It takes him a couple of minutes, cursing under his breath, and you smile at the lady, who smiles back, patiently waiting for Joel to find the right email.

"Sorry,“ you say to her, and try to catch a glimpse at Joel’s phone, so as to figure out what’s taking him so long. "Need some help?“

He throws you an offended look that makes you grin, and finally shows the lady his phone. She smiles, types something into her computer and gets out two room keys.

"Go easy on your Daddy, it’s easier when you grew up with the internet,“ she says, handing you each a keycard. You feel Joel stiffen beside you, and your stomach flutters.

"Here’s your keycards, you’re on the third floor. Enjoy your stay!“

"Thanks,“ Joel mumbles, taking the cards and handing them to you, before grabbing the two suitcases. He huffs, when you walk around a corner and towards the elevators.

"She was makin’ fun of me,“ he says accusingly when the lady is out of earshot, as if that would be your fault. You snort, all of a sudden feeling giddy at the prospect of being at the beach soon, your holiday only a couple of minutes away.

"I don’t think so, she was trying to help you by blaming your incompetence on your age,“ you say, Joel looking at you like he can’t believe what you said.

"Sorry.“ Your voice is quivering with amusement at how offended he is. "Daddy.“

That makes him clear his throat, and if your eyes aren’t playing a trick on you, his cheeks turn a shade darker. Bingo.

"Don’t say shit like that,“ Joel grumbles, "’M not that old.“

"How old are you, then?“

"Why?“, he asks, eyes meeting yours, and suddenly you’re the one blushing, your stomach swirling with something you definitely should not be feeling for your Dad’s best friend. Joel shakes his head. "Don’t start something neither of us can finish, kid.“

It’s just an offhand-comment about the way you jokingly flirted, but you feel all bashful all of a sudden. His mention of there being something to potentially start, the fact that the possibility even crossed his mind…when you look up at him again and watch him press a button on the elevator, you study the grey patches in his beard, the way his jaw clenches and unclenches as you’re waiting, his thick fingers drumming against the handle of his suitcase. It’s not what you expected to happen, but Joel’s got you intrigued.

***

You both agree to take a shower, get settled in and meet outside the rooms in half an hour – they’re neighboring, so it’s not far. You’re too lazy to properly unpack, so you just grab a bikini and a comfortable white sundress to change into after your shower. The water is welcome on your skin, washing away the grit and sweat of the hours spent on the plane, and you feel like a new person when you step out of the bathroom. You put on sandals and a pair of sunglasses, grab sunscreen, your books and notes for class, and a bottle of water, and throw it all into your beach bag, then head for the door. Joel is already waiting for you, leaning against the wall opposite your door wearing a different shirt, red swimming trunks and dark sunglasses. He’s got a towel thrown over his shoulder and you grin.

"Raw-dogging the beach?“, you ask, which makes him furrow his brows.

"The hell does that mean?“

You snort at his obvious annoyance at your innuendo.

"It means you’re only bringing a towel, nothing to entertain yourself with,“ you explain, gesturing towards your bag. Joel shakes his head, still frowning.

"I’m going to the beach, not the library,“ he answers, and starts walking towards the elevators, his flip-flops making their soft sound on the floor. Your gaze flickers down towards his legs, his swimming trunks revealing tan thighs.

"Comin’?“

You swallow, and catch up with him.

***

He’s fucking gorgeous. It’s a problem, how gorgeous he is, tan torso, swimming trunks low on his hips, bits of dark hair scattered across his chest and soft belly. His shoulders are wide, like they were made for swimming, his hair glistening as he shakes like a wet dog when he comes up for air. You have been staring at the same page for far too long now, but there’s no way Joel is able to notice your staring, not when you’re wearing your sunglasses and he’s busy swimming.

You know it’s a bad idea, that there’s no good that can come from crushing on a man twice your age, more than that, even. You know he must surely see the girl who came over to borrow his bike with tears of anger in her eyes every time he looks at you, and you know how much he respects your father.

Still, you are allowed to have fun. You’re doing this for your Dad more than anything, and you’ve been bending over backwards trying to make him proud with your good grades, so if there’s something you’re able to get out of this trip, you figure you’re at least allowed to look. And anyway, it’s not hurting anyone. It’s just natural, the half-naked bodies and blissful relaxation would affect anyone who has spent the last four months cramped up in a little dorm room.

You watch Joel swim towards the beach again, rising out of the water like some sort of Poseidon sent to personally make this trip unbearable for you. You think of his reaction when you teasingly called him Daddy, and swallow.

"Fuck,“ you mumble to yourself, when he tugs on his swimming trunks so that they don’t slide over his hips, dripping water onto the dry sand all around him. He smiles at you as he makes his way over to your spot – two deckchairs shielded by a parasol.

"Wow,“ Joel says sarcastically, when he looks at your book, still on page two. "Real page turner, huh?“

You blush, and open your mouth to defend yourself, but Joel’s expression softens, all biting humor gone, as he grabs his towel.

"You’re allowed to take a break from studying, you know?“

You watch him dry himself off, big hands rubbing the towel over his chest and stomach, leaving his legs to dry on their own, as he lays down on his deckchair.

"Easy to say, you’re not the one who has to face my Dad if you fail all your exams.“

Joel turns his head towards you, and you’re struck by how gentle his expression is.

"I know he can be a hard ass, but I guarantee you you’re not goin’ to fail all your exams, kid.“

You sigh and shrug.

"He give you a hard time ’cause of your grades?“

"No,“ you answer quickly, all of a sudden feeling defensive of your father. "I just wanna…make him proud.“

Joel smiles.

"I know for a fact you’re doin’ that without even tryin’. And anyway, it’s good to take breaks. Let’s your brain cool off and absorb information much better afterwards.“

Can’t argue with that logic, you think and close your book with a thud. Joel grabs it from you and throws it into your beach bag.

"I grant you two hours of studying each day,“ he says, and you have to laugh. "The rest is for having fun, gettin’ tan and drinkin’ cocktails."

It’s preposterous, that he would order you around like that after you told him you need to study, back before you even made it to the airport. But something is different here, away from your desk, and your Dad’s broken leg (and the rest of him, for that matter). Joel and you have fallen into an easy dynamic, and although it’s unusual, your reservations are gone. You’re actually looking forward to spending time with him, and not just because of the way his belly nudges against the waistband of his swimming trunks, or how his accent seems to thicken in the sun.

"Fine,“ you say, "but you’re paying for my tuition if I do end up failing, Miller.“

He grins at you.