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13as07 · 7 months ago

Text

Gift

(Rock Lee)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to Pixiv Id]

Requested by: @randomwords-world

Word Count: 3,323

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Pregnancy Trope Alert (cause I think it'll be cute); Also, Lee would 100% be the Dad to pass out in the delivery room

Neji still isn't dead because I refuse to believe it and I'm a bit pissed off about it still

Part Two?

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Neji waddles around after me in the kitchen, helping me prep the food for the party going on in the living room. Ever since Mr Know-It-All found out I was pregnant, he's been my personal guard dog, insisting on helping me until I tell Lee about it. He swears he'll back off after, but seeing how he was for Hinata's pregnancy I doubt that's true. Maybe I'll get lucky and be able to squeeze out of it on the ruling of "Best Friend's Wife" but I doubt that as well.

"Lee-Chan, you look ridiculous," he mutters for the hundredth time, referring to the mask I've chosen to wear over my face while we're in the kitchen. The mask that he snatches away from me.

For whatever reason tomatoes seem to trigger my morning sickness - that seems to be more of an all-day sickness - and Lee wanted curry for his Birthday lunch, which requires tomatoes. So, I've spent the day constantly throwing up as I've prepared the curry, the side dishes, and the appetizers.

"Just let me worry about the curry, won't you woman?" Neji gently teases, snatching the wooden spoon from me before using it to give a playful tap to my hand. "Go take the cheese trays and such out to the party and spend some time with your husband."

"I'm finally, Nej. I can handle the food," I try to fight back, a smile spreading on my face because of the demanding man.

"As this generation's voted big brother, I'm telling you no. Go spend time with Lee," He bites back, hand on his hip and the spoon waving around in the air as he lectures me.

"Who voted for that?"

"Me," Neji answers, eyes locked on me for a second before flicking towards the door, nonverbally ordering me to leave. I let out a sigh but give in and pick up one of the cheese trays before heading toward the living room. "Thank you," he says more to himself than me. What a diva Neji turned out to be.

Welcomebacks are thrown at me by the partygoers; friends, colleagues, and random civilians who have come to stay for the party or popped in to give Lee a quick "Happy Birthday". For the past hour or so our front door has been propped open with constant foot traffic in and out. I'm going to have to mop tomorrow.

It doesn't take long for Rock to see me, his smile somehow growing more once his eyes land on me. He's such a lover boy and he's going to be such a good father. "There you are, my pretty midnight Orchid," he calls, instantly leaving the people he's talking with to come greet me.

"Here I am," I repeat, setting the serving plate on the long table packed with food. I start messing with the table, stacking the empty trays and piling up the trash to be thrown away.

"You've done enough already, my precious Orchid," Rock mutters, scooping my hands between his. Our hands are folded together, mine in the middle and his covering mine as his head bows down. My lover boy wastes no time brushing kisses over every inch of skin stretched across my finger. "Sit down for a moment, or at least come stand with me for a while. I feel like I've barely seen you since the guests have gotten here."

"I'm sorry, Rocky. I'm just trying to make sure the food comes out right and such."

His smile doesn't waiver as he looks at me, as happy as ever to be looking at and touching me. I swear no matter how long we're together I don't think the honeymoon phase is ever going to end with Rock. "I know, beautiful. I appreciate all of it, I really do. I didn't see Neji leave the kitchen so I'm sure he's handling everything and even if he's not, our guests will be fine if you take a few moments to spend with me."

"You're dumb, Rocky," I mutter, warmth climbing up my cheeks at how eager my husband is to spend time with me. I swear he jumped off the pages of one of those romance books.

"Well if wanting to spend time with my lady is dumb, then I'm as dumb as they come, Chamomile." I laugh at his joke, leaning forward to steal a kiss. He eagerly returns it, a hand curling around my wrist as the other one slides up to cup my cheek. "Your lips always taste so sweet," he hums dreamily when we pull apart, the hand on my cheek moving again to twirl a piece of my hair. "If all I got was you today, I could die a happy man. Do you know that my precious Poppy?"

I can feel the heat rising on my cheeks, the darkening of my blush widening Rock's smile. I swear it's harder for him not to compliment me than it is for him to compliment me. "I'm glad but I'm sure you'll change your mind after you open your gifts."

His smile loosens a bit, confusion trapped in his eyes as he searches my face. His hands clamp around mine again, tugged up to his lips so he can decorate my fingertips in kisses. "Dandelion, no material item could ever make me as happy as you have. I'm sorry if I've done something to make you feel that way."

I laugh again, the present I for Rock rolling around in my head as I watch his mini-panic. "You haven't. Don't think too much about it, okay? It'll make sense later. I just know I got you a really good present this year."

"Still, no matter what you got me, you'll always make me the happiest."

"I don't think so," I tease, my cheeks starting to hurt from my smile and the secret of his present resting on the tip of my tongue.

"What is this great gift you got me then, Lotus?" He teases back, his kisses now slowly traveling across my wrist, and beelining up my arm.

"You have to wait until you open your gifts and I had Neji hide mine so it's the last one you open."

Rick's eyes jump up to lock with mine, amusement present in them along with his soft laugh. "Well, I'll just have to open my presents now then if I want to find out."

"You're the Birthday Boy. Anything you say goes today," I remind him, instantly getting dragged into the middle of the room. I guess he's excited to see what I got him.

"Hey, Naruto," Rock calls, holding my hand as he helps to settle me on the ground. The new dad turns his attention, his son curled up in his arms. Boruto came out the spitting image of his father, which I find adorable. Will our kid look that much like Rock? I hope so. "Do you mind going to grab Neji from the kitchen so I can open my gifts?"

"Sure," Naruto mutters, carefully placing his baby back into Hinata's arms.

As he leaves the room, Rock settles on the floor next to me. His hand is instantly wrapped around mine again, placing our knotted fingers in his knee. "I can't believe you're making me open you're present last."

"Like I told you, it's the best one. Best for last," I tease, taking the drink Tenten offers me. I glance into the cup, being met with a dark purple color and a cranberry scent. Is it normal cranberry juice or cranberry vodka? It's hard to tell seeing how Sakura and her have been making cranberry vodkas for everyone during the party.

"Hello," Neji greets me out of no where, his hand on my shoulder. He plucks the cup out of my hand, tasting it before he walks away, off to go make me a nonalcoholic cranberry juice.

"Do... do you want me to make you another one?" Tenten asks, her eyes, and a finger jumping between Neji and me.

"I think Neji has it under control," I tell her, sending her a smile. She looks me up and down for a moment, trying to figure out what the hell just happened. After all, it's out of character for her squad mate to stroll up and snatch a cup out of someone's hands. It's even more out of character for him to stroll away with the drink after.

Tenten - and now Rock - both look confused as Neji settles in front of me. He looks down at the cups like he can't remember which is which, before taking a sip from both. "This one's yours," he mutters, handing me one of the cups.

"Thank you," I murmur back, taking two or three sips from the plastic cup before settling it on the floor. "Alright, Rock," I say, squeezing his hand as I turn my attention toward him. "Are you ready for your gifts?" I ask him, starting to climb to my feet.

Neji appears out of thin air, again, to settle a hand on my shoulder, keeping me seated on the floor. "I'll grab his gifts. You relax," he orders, nodding his head to confirm his ruling. Once again, he floats away, heading off the gift table to collect Rock's presents.

"So, Neji is being weird," Rock chuckles, glancing at his friend before he smiles at me. "Is he dying or something?"

The empty question makes me laugh, my head tipping to rest on his shoulder. "That'll make sense after you open your gift too."

"I think you should let me open your gift first," Rocky says, shaking his head back and forth to softly tap it against mine. "Even if the best things are better last."

"That's something you have to talk to Neji about. I'm so excited about it that I had him hide it so I couldn't give it to you early."

"Talk to me about what?" Rock's squad mate asks, appearing beside us with a stack of presents he's working towards the floor. I swear we should invest in getting Neji a bell.

"Where you hide my Sunflower's present for me so I can open it first."

"I think it would be best if you opened her gift last," Neji mutters, situating the gifts so the growing crowd can see Rock but he can still reach everything.

"But I want to open it first."

Neji lets out a long, disapproving sigh as he straightens himself. "Fine, I'll be right back," he grumbles, disappearing to go retrieve the gift from whatever hidy-hole he stuck it in. As we wait, Rocky's focus is on me, his hand squeezing mine, kisses being littered across my forehead, and his free hand repeatedly brushing the hair out of my face so he can continue to litter me in kisses.

"Alright, alright," Neji calls when he returns, gathering the attention of the room. "You all need to pay attention to this gift. I don't care if you pay attention after, but this is the important one," he announces, handing the gift to Rock before he floats away again. It takes a second but I find him stashed away in the group of people, camera in his hold and pressed to his face as he prepares to snap pictures of his friend's reaction.

Rock settles the tan-wrapped box in front of himself, eyeing me as he toys with the bow on top. "What's so important about this present?" He asks, carefully tugging on the ribbons to undo the bow.

"Just open it," I giggle, lifting my head off him before I knock my shoulder against his.

He knocks his shoulder against mine in return, happiness radiating off of him as he carefully unwraps the package. Everyone holds their breath as Rocky carefully opens the box. My excitement and want to burst out the secret steers in my stomach as I watch him remove the cover tissue paper.

Confusion flickers over his face as he looks down at the first layer of the present; the three positive pregnancy tests in plastic wrap, a copy of my first ultrasound, marked with a red circle to show where our baby is in the picture since I was only five weeks along, and a copy of the ultrasound Neji took me to last week. I was ten weeks along in that photo, so the picture of our baby is a lot more defined.

"Darling," Rock calls, showing me the photos as if I wasn't the one to put them in there. "I'm sorry but I'm confused."

"Just keep going," I tell him, taking the items from him. I place the baggy on the floor, but hand the photos to Tenten for safekeeping. As soon as she sees them, I can see the pieces snap into place; she's finally putting together Neji's weird behaviors.

Rocky still looks confused but obeys, taking out the piece of tissue paper that separates the two layers of his gift. He pulls out the deep green knitted blanket, a project I'm quite impressed Gai managed to get done in a couple of weeks. Rock unfolds the blanket, showing us the dark black letters in the center; 'Might and Lee Legacy in the making'.

"Aw, that's cute," he mutters, turning the blanket around to hold it up to the crowd. My smile grows as I watch confusion crawl onto everyone's faces, eyes flickering my way. Well, everyone but Gai and Neji; the younger boy is still behind the camera and Gai almost bouncing in his wheelchair as he whispers to my Sensei.

"It's a little small though," he adds pointing out how the blanket could only cover half of him at most. "It's still perfect, Lavender," Rocky quickly adds, carefully folding the blanket.

"There are two more things in your box," I mutter, tipping the box my way so Tenten can get a pick into it. Tears are rolling down her face, curving around her smile as she looks at the pictures of her future niece or nephew. "Take them out at the same time."

"Yes ma'am," he eagerly answers, resting the blanket on his lap before he pulls out the last two items. He unfolds the shirt, his smile growing as he reads over the text. 'Lee Lifting Squad' is carefully pressed into the shirt. "Cute. Did you get me matching shorts too?" He teases, showing the shirt to the crowd before folding it and adding it to the pile on his lap.

"Not quite," I mutter, locking my eyes on his face, eagerly waiting for the relaxation to hit.

"I don't get how any of this goes with the pictures or the sticks," Rocky mutters, unfolding the onesie with matching writing to his new shirt. Confusion filters through his features again as he lifts the onesie, his head slowly turning towards me. "Did... you... get the cat an outfit?" He asks, turning the cloth around to show the group.

Gasps and shouts of joy fill the room, snapping Rock's head away from me. "I'm confused," he mutters, looking at the baby outfit again.

"What is that?" I ask, pointing to his hands.

"A onesie?"

"Alright, what's that?" I continue, pointing at his lap.

"A blanket, my Cherry Blossom. I'm still confused."

I hush him, picking up the baggy and waving it around a bit. "What are these?"

"Pregnancy tests?" He mutters, glancing between his presents and me. "Oh, Lord, you're pregnant," he whispers, clinging to the onesie. "Dear Lord, you're pregnant!" He repeats, dropping the cloth before lunging at me. Rocky wraps his arms around my neck, holding me as he pulls me into his chest. "Oh my, oh my, oh my," he says on repeat, rocking us back and forth as he clings to me.

I giggle, stamping kisses onto his cheek as I hold onto his arms. The party-goers cheer, a few of Rock's friends egging him for not catching wind of what was going on sooner. "Congratulations, Dad."

"Congratulations, Mom," he echos, his voice shaky with happy tears. "Oh dear, is this why Neji has been all weird recently?" Rocky asks, pulling away a bit, one hand holding onto my neck as the other one jumps down to feel my stomach.

"Ya," I mutter, resting my head against his arm.

"You told Neji before me?" He teasingly cries, leaning forward to litter my face with kisses, his hand rubbing circles into my stomach.

"That's what happens when you have a genius as a best friend."

"You tell anyone else before me?" He asks, resting his forehead against mine. His wide eyes stare into mine, happy tears spilling down his cheeks.

"Just Gai so he could make the blanket for your present."

Rocky chuckles, leaning forward to crash his lips against mine. "I'm going to be a dad," he breathes out when we pull apart, laying quick small pecks to my lips. "You're going to be a mom."

"Alright, you've hogged my daughter-in-law and my grandbaby enough," Gai's deep voice booms, pulling our attention toward him. He's eagerly wheeling himself forward, Kakashi following close behind.

My husband chuckles at his Sensei, pulling away from me to climb to his feet. Once he's up, Rock grabs my hands, helping me climb to my feet. "Hey Gai," I greet, bending down to hug him.

"Hello, Little Lotus," he mutters, wrapping his arms around me. "Can I feel your stomach now?"

"Ya, you can," I chuckle, pulling away from my Husband's surrogate father.

Gai is vibrating almost as much as Rocky, carefully placing his hand on my small baby bump. "Hello, Littler Lotus," he mutters, rubbing his hand across my stomach. "I'm your grandpa who's going to get you in so much terrible. You're going to call me Pop-Pop," he turns around, snagging Kakashi's hand to add it to my stomach.

"Gai," Kakashi starts, trying to pull his hand away. "You can't just do that."

"It's fine," I giggle, resting my hand on top of his. "I don't mind you touching my belly, Grandpa," I tease, shooting my Sensei a smile.

"This is your other grandpa. You're going to call him Grump because he's always grumpy."

Rock is vibrating so much that he's bouncing on his feet, eagerness spilling from me. Before he can stop himself, he's attached to me again, arms around my shoulders and kisses being stamped to my face.

"I can't believe you told Gai before me," Kakashi grumbles, rubbing a few small circles against me before pulling his hand away. "And your kid is not calling me Grump."

"They totally are," Gai coos, his focus mostly on Rock and my unborn baby. "Aren't you? Pop-Pop Gai, Grump Kash, Uncle Neji, Auntie Tenten, you're going to have so much love."

"What about my students?" Sensei deadpans, rolling his eyes at his friend.

"Yes, yes. Uncle Naruto and Auntie Sakura too. Along with your Uncle Sasuke and cousin Boruto. You're going to be so loved when you enter this world, Littler Lotus."

Kakashi rolls his eyes again, taking hold of Gai's wheelchair to pull him away. "Alright, I'm sure others want to congratulate them and that they'll want a moment alone. Let's go find the booze table." Gai whines for a moment but doesn't do anything to stop Sensei from moving him.

Instantly, Rock's hands fall to lay against me, kisses still brushing against my cheeks as he pays attention to our child. "I think it's going to be a boy."

"I bet it's a girl," I counter, leaning against my husband and resting my hands on top of his.

"It's a boy. I can feel it. It's going to be a boy," Rock mutters, slowly rocking us back and forth again.

"It's a girl," I bite back, even though I do hope it's a boy. Rock would be so excited to have a son, though he'd make a cute girl dad.

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#naruto shippuden #naruto shippuden oneshot #naruto shippuden x reader #rock lee oneshot #rock lee x reader #rock oneshot #rock x reader #rock lee

43 notes · View notes

yeoyeos · 2 years ago

Text

Disobedience [K.Y.S./J.W.Y.] smut

warnings: name calling[slut,cumslut,cockslut, whore,bitch],bondage[handcuffs,leashes],vibrators,f!reader,cum swallowing,squirting,dick sucking

lmk if i missed anything

a/n: 2nd longest fic ever👀

★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★

"who made this mess?!" you and wooyoung stare at each other in shock at the sudden booming voice echoing throughout the apartment, neither of you expecting yeosang to be home this early. both of you hurriedly began cleaning up the mess you made in the bathroom to, hopefully, lessen the surely awaited punishment for both of you. fingers were crossed he didn't walk in to see both of you still wet (despite coming out of the shower a while ago) with cum all over both of your faces and your body

he was mad enough when he saw the trail of clothes you left behind and the fallen down furniture throughout the apartment, but the sight of both you and wooyoung in a mess with water all over the floor had him fuming. you were scared but undoubtedly aroused being that there was always a look yeosang had when he was about to make an unpredictable move; surely he would punish both of you in some way, that much you knew, the arousing part is the uncertainty of what he's going to do

"room. now."

not needing to be told twice, you dropped the mop and briskly walked to the shared bedroom, wooyoung right behind you. both of you got on your knees side by side as yeosang usually instructs when he's about to punish either of you. “he's either picking up the clothes we left behind or getting the leashes” woo whispers, soft enough so yeosang doesn't hear you through the thin walls. "i vote for the latter" you whispered back, heartbeat ascending faster than you've ever felt as you heard footsteps working toward both of you. he walked in, collar and leash in hand (like you assumed) and a stern look that ran a shiver all over your body. fuck he’s so hot

covered in a light glisten of sweat, his gorgeous birthmark only slightly visible due to it being covered by a couple strands of hair that stuck to his forehead. his black, skin tight vest alluring to what’s underneath as his baggy sweatpants did the opposite. but no matter what he wore, he always looked enticing, like a meal ready to be devoured

he slowly makes his way to you, pulling you up by your hair, making you whimper in both pain and pleasure as he dragged you to your shared bed. he sat you down and proceeded to tie the collar to your neck and tie the leash around a bedpost. 'this isn't going to be fun' you thought. every time yeosang ties one of you up he's about to make you yearn for his touch which is absolute torture

"you'll sit here like a good bitch and look at me punish wooyoung. you don't speak, you don't move and you don't look away understand?” the sternness of his voice and the strength he used to hold your chin, making you look into his eyes, locked your own vocal chords to the point where you didn’t realize you hadn't answered him until he raised his eyebrow in an expecting look. "yes master" you softly muttered, before he let go of the grip be had on your face and strode toward wooyoung

"you" he spoke in his deep ass voice that made your insides tremble. "you should know better, shouldn't you darling?" his voice got progressively deeper as he stooped down to drift his fingertips over wooyoung's chest and abs. yeosang made sure that when he asked questions, he'd teasingly touch our bodies since it was fun to see us all choked up for him. as his big hands and delicate fingers caressed our bodies, making us shiver in delight and rendered speechless

"i asked you a question, you should know better. shouldn't you?" his hands now drifting toward woo's thighs, making the boy visibly shiver. if he wasn't already kneeling on the ground he would've collapsed into yeosang’s arms begging for anything he could get. "yes master i-" "y/n's a slut, she can't help but chase cock wherever she can get it." the mention of you as if you weren't even there hits your body with intoxication; wondering if you could get away with touching yourself secretly behind the two

"it's your job to keep her in line while i'm away. you know its against the rules to fuck unless i say." yeosang slaps wooyoung's left thigh earning a mewl from the black haired boy on the floor "i think you should get a worse punishment than her, wouldn’t you agree?" was yeosang's last statement as he gripped wooyoung’s cock, a full fledged moan escaped his pretty pink lips as yeosang harshly stroked his dick. he spit in his hand for lubrication and continued touching him, his movements were so much for woo that precum escaped his tip in a surprising amount, until you remember how sensitive your partner is

seeing them preoccupied led you to rubbing your legs together. as neither partner was paying attention to you, why not have some fun while they're not looking? so said so done as you slowly drifted your right hand to your untouched, throbbing clit. doing it in enough of a secretive way that if the spotlight were to be put on you, you can retract your hand and not get caught. you hoped at least

you touched your clit and observed the scene unfold in front of you. you were so busy trying to stifle a moan, you didn't hear the command yeosang gave to wooyoung but you were glad you got to witness the suddenness of wooyoung spitting on his own cock while yeosang moves his hands faster.

wooyoung throws his head back, being enveloped in the pleasure of an upcoming orgasm that's so close he can feel it taking over his body. his back slightly arching as he was on the brink of experiencing his desired orgasm, only for it to be taken away from him; which was expected but also a displeasure. despite it never having any effect on yeosang, woo looked up at the man with the best puppy eyes he could muster, he looked absolutely adorable with those big glossy eyes of his looking up at sang, pleading for his release.

the sight was enough to make you cum, but you couldn’t have chosen a worse time to pick up speed when yeosang stood up and looked at you. you swiftly moved your hand away and placed it to your side, hopefully moving fast enough to not get caught

he soon got up and walked toward the drawer in your bedside table and grabbed the handcuffs he kept in there. “since you can't seem to keep your hands to yourself-” he said mostly for your ears to hear and your eyes widened 'how the fuck did he see?' “didn't you realize your moans aren't as subtle or suppressed as you think?”

after tying both your hands behind your back to the same post the leash was tied to, he walked away leaving you slightly ashamed at your neediness, but more aroused that you were caught. he strode over to wooyoung, clothes still on but a visible tent in his sweats, alluding to how massive and hard his cock is. he pulled wooyoung up by his hair and lightly pushed him on the bed near your feet and for the first time that night you saw yeosang's eyes soften, making sure the boy was alright. the look of confirmation from wooyoung was enough for him to go off of and continue his endeavours.

“legs open” he said looking toward you. you opened your legs wide in much joy and anticipation for what was to come, knowing you were probably about to get eaten out or fingered. “face in her cunt” yeosang said, managing to be so commanding in such few words, which always left you amazed. wooyoung lay down on his stomach in front of you, his breath heavy on your dripping cunt. “tsk, what am i going to do with two disobedient cunts like yourselves”

he once again held wooyoung by his hair and pushed his face into your cunt, sending waves upon waves of pleasure from your core throughout your body. sharp nose rubbing on your clit as his tongue licked up and down your slit before hungrily lapping up your wetness and diving his tongue into your hole. wooyoung always knew how to bring pleasure to you in seconds with that magical tongue of his. he continued with no signs of stopping no matter what, leading you to whine like a bitch in heat

yeosang didn’t seem to like this one bit and in the swiftest motion, raised wooyoung's head from your pussy to lay a light slap on it, making you moan louder in turn, and put wooyoung’s face back where he immediately continued eating you as if he were already pussy drunk. “whore’s aren’t supposed to enjoy their punishments” he spoke, but you could barely listen, not after the spike in pleasure you just received. “s-sorry master” you whispered into a moan despite it not being true in the slightest. but apologies didn’t cut it apparently, being that yeosang repeated his previous action. you had to remind yourself to stifle your moans before you get into more trouble but the slap felt so good your best decision would be to distract yourself. but how could you when yeosang forces your eyes to look into woo’s. “Look at him, pathetic. just like you” he spat, “he wants to taste your cum so bad. are you going to give him what he wants? or are you going to cum and get punished for it?”

continuing to moan like the true whore you are, seemed to affect wooyoung as well, seeing that he started grinding his hips against the bed for the tiniest bit of friction. which yeosang didn’t seem to pay any mind to. he truly was an enigma but you knew for a fact that putting you in a tough spot like this fed his growing erection. “if you cum you get punished too, don't forget that, slut” he directed wooyoung. the constant struggle to keep in your moans and prevent from giving yourself a mind blowing orgasm was torture, and you’re not sure how long you could hold it in. and yeosang knows this.

“look at you, about to burst just from woo’s tongue huh??” he leaned down to place light kisses on the side of your neck and trailed them up to your ear. “i know you want to, cum. see what happens when you do. i know you're dying to be punished until you break, pet” and with those words weaving their way to the knot in your abdomen, the last bit of your resolve broke. you gripped the white silk sheets beneath you and arched your back high off the large bed as you near squirted on woo’s face, just from yeosang’s words and the feeling of woo’s tongue

you didn’t think this would have such an effect on you but you weren’t complaining, and neither was woo, judging from the increased speed of his hips. you took a couple seconds to come down from your high and notice your surroundings, that being the very visible stain of both your and wooyoung’s cum on the bed, and yeosang with restraints, vibrators and gags. “since you two want to be such disobedient brats today, i’ll just have to train you to behave”

your eyes widened in anticipation. yeosang can be evil when he wants to be and this seems like one of those times. “woo, lay next to y/n” his tone harsher than ever as he directs wooyoung where to place himself which he hastily abides, not wanting to be in more trouble than he already is. “want to cum so badly? fine” he muttered, seemingly to himself but you both knew he wanted you to hear.

in no time woo was in the same state as you, hands and neck tied to the bedposts with an addition of gags in your mouth and vibrators between your legs. woo with a thick, black cockring and you with a pink clitoral vibrator strapped to your leg

yeosang took a seat on the big chair placed in front of the bed and began pulling down his pants and boxers. a tyrannical sort of smirk on his face as he takes his achingly hard cock out, along with two small remotes from his pocket. he lay one on his lap and the other stayed in his hand. stroking his member slowly, he pressed a button and a muffled groan was heard from beside you. wooyoung got the immediate sensation of vibrations from the ring, pleasure streaming through his body had him uncontrollably squirming as yeosang raised the power of the instrument higher and higher the faster he stroked himself. and you were his next target

just as wooyoung was about to cum, the pleasure ceased and you were the one being immediately tortured. out the gate, strong vibrations hit you like a truck instantly creating a knot in your abdomen once again. moans from both you and yeosang filled the room while wooyoung lay there trying to compose himself from his previously denied orgasm. you wanted to beg, scream, do anything as long as you got yeosang’s touch, but you couldn’t and it drove you mad. your impending orgasm was on the brink of making your mind turn to mush and you hoped to whatever god that existed that you got it. the odds were not stacked in your favour however, when the pleasure came to an abrupt end, and seemingly only for you.

yeosang threw his head onto the back of the chair as he moaned in ecstasy, his orgasm hitting him hard while cum shot out of his still erect cock and landed on his well sculpted chest that you wished you could clean up right now. you and wooyoung looked at yeosang in jealousy seeing him receive the pleasure you both craved for. you wanted to look away out of the pettiness in your heart, but the sight of yeosang with his eyes closed, head thrown back and dick in his fist while covered in cum was too enticing. so mesmerising that you could feel yourself dripping just from the sight. agonisingly enough, you were not able to touch yourself or your lovers

“you could’ve had this pleasure,” he started, “but you had to be cock hungry and pussy drunk sluts and fuck while i was out.” yeosang took both controls in his hand and turned them on to the highest setting, sending both you and wooyoung into a shock of pleasure. you wished you could touch them, get fucked till you were mindless. anything but being tied down and untouched with just a vibrator to please you. “you wanna cum? cum” he spoke, more focus on the last word as you broke, spilling more of your juices on the sheets. you weren't one to complain about receiving pleasure though, the release you felt was so ecstatic you didn’t want it to end

★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★

the first time you came was bliss, the second time was ecstasy. the 5th time had you less than excited; sure he took the gags out, but only because he “needed to hear you being pathetic.” you’re not sure how long yeosang left you two there for and you're pretty sure wooyoung can’t cum or even function anymore but you just couldn’t take anymore, you had to resort to the one thing you hated doing

“m-m-master please, i’m sorry for being such a c-cock whore please p-please i can’t take it anymore i’ll never disobey your rules again i’m s-sorry” none of it was true, but you needed to be fucked now or you might just explode. “i’m sorry too master, i should've known better and i’ll never do it again” even an idiot could sense that it was all a lie and you’d both do it again in a heartbeat, but yeosang had you both depraved cumsluts before obedient ones and all your brains could focus on was his cum anywhere in or on you. his predator-like stare would burn your skin if it could and his large, veiny hands stood still on his lap. you anticipated his next move to be swift but that wasn’t the case. he slowly arose from his spot, strolling toward both your shaking, crying bodies. turning the vibrators off he finally granted you release from the overstimulation he caused you. leaning over you, he whispered between your and wooyoung’s ear, “you wish you were sorry” then walked over to the other side of the bed, releasing wooyoung from his restraints. scared by his words, you hadn’t noticed he freed you as well.

“if you’re both as sorry as you say you are, then you’d obey me now, yes?” eager nods came from both parties but yeosang wasn’t having it. “yes master” “knees” and neither of you stuttered, immediately making a move to kneel in front of him on the carpeted floor. sure, you wanted to be fucked into a barely mumbling mess, but sucking yeosang’s beautiful cock was second to none. the feeling of his cock heavy on your tongue and cum sliding down your throat was a treat you relished every chance you got.

he held his cock in front of our faces wordlessly and you made first touch, stroking his length slowly. this wouldn’t be the first time you’ve sucked dick with woo, and you know he can be greedy, so you have to fight to get what you've been desiring this entire evening. as you stroked, woo kitten licked and kissed his tip, but you were at an advantage due to your position. you looked up at yeosang with your best puppy eyes, hoping to coax something out the man towering over you

you should’ve known that wouldn’t work. yeosang is like a magnifying glass, he can definitely see through your ruse to get fucked dumb. he placed a light slap across your face and stepped away slightly, “both of you, suck me” he instructed. you rushed to the tip of his cock, right next to wooyoung, to assist him in sucking your master’s dick. it felt so good to finally have something in your mouth that wasn’t a gag. you forgot woo was there for a second, marginally pushing him away to fit all of yeosang’s cock in your mouth and looking up at him again, this time with a small thank you in your eyes for letting you suck him off.

wooyoung isn’t one to take competition lightly though, and pushes you back to replace your mouth with his. licking and sucking like his life depended on it. yeosang, cleary having enough your scrimmage, brought wooyoung up to face level, to plant a lustful kiss on his lips while you took him whole. “fuck” he breathed into the kiss he shared, totally forgetting about the punishment he was giving to the both of you.

‘yeah that’s right. make master feel good. help her suck me little toy” he spoke. wooyung hastily kneeling down and forgetting about the little dispute you two had moments ago and sucking on his balls and up his shaft, he felt so good that it was impossible to miss the jolt of his hips toward both your mouths, clearly wanting more. just the way he likes it, he put his hand in both of your hair and forced you to choke on his whole cock while forcing woo to suck his balls. he threw his head back in ecstasy, revelling in the feeling of his two cock sluts taking his dick and balls in their mouth. he pulled both of your heads back and wordlessly pushed you and woo into a kiss which you happily obliged, kissing him messily while moaning. wooyoung seemed to enjoy the taste of yeosang’s precum on your tongue and kissed you deeper making the kiss get more heated.

“look at my whores, you’ll take anything you can get huh?” he pulled you away from woo, finally allowing you the chance to share a kiss with him. the kiss was immediately hot and filled with lust, dominating the kiss as his tongue entered your mouth. exploring your cavern that was just stuffed with his cock. he got a power trip from knowing how much dominance he has over both of you, bucking his hips toward woo at just the thought, making wooyoung choke on his massive cock. you tried your best to focus on the heated kiss you shared with yeosang but you couldn't help but notice the sounds wooyung made choking on yeosang’s cock. you felt him repeat his actions which made wooyoung choke louder, looking down you noticed cum dripping out of wooyoung’s mouth and you couldn’t be more mesmerized by the way he swallowed his cum but some still managed to fall onto his chest. yeosang took your chin in his hand and made you look at him. “you want it don’t you?” he said with a soft tone and a domineering stare which still managed to render you speechless, but you knew if you didn’t answer you'll never get what you want. “yes master please” you begged and he nodded.

getting back on your knees, you licked wooyoung up and down his chest and jaw, collecting the drips of your master’s cum on his body, which managed to make the taste even better. the mix of yeo’s cum and woo’s smell driving you insane. however, you were so enthralled with licking woo (and vice versa) that you didn’t realize yeo’s disappearance. you both spun around to see him on the bed only for him to give another command. “woo ride my cock, y/n my face” and you didn’t need to be told twice, quickly jumping on the bed to sit on his pretty face. slowly he started moving his tongue up and down your slit and giving kitten licks to your clit. your back arched enough for wooyoung to reach your nipples and squeeze them. a pang of jealousy hit you when you realized he got to have yeo’s dick inside him instead of you. but as you felt a harsh suck on your clit, it brought you out of your mind and toward the pleasure yeosang was giving you.

you looked down at his pretty face and noticed his eyes on you, zoning in on the pleasure displayed on your features, as you did the same, feeling your pleasure increase as he moved faster. you were starting to tremble, hands gripping yeosang's hair as to not fall back onto wooyoung. you wanted to continue watching your lover eat you out while the other pleased the hardened nubs on your chest but as you felt your 6th orgasm arriving for the night you couldn’t focus on anything but cumming. you let out a moan of your master’s name, already feeling the pleasure taking over your body. you pulled his hair harder and grabbed onto wooyoung’s wrist when you squirted all over yeosang’s face and the pillows behind him, you’re not sure how you held yourself up, especially as yeosang continued his ministrations, but you did

as he slowed down you got off and lay exhausted beside him while wooyoung continued. though tired, you pulled wooyoung in for one last kiss before you lay back down which he seemed to enjoy as he finally burst, covering yeosang in more cum which they were both extremely pleased about.

after he showered yeosang’s torso in his cum, he clearly grew weak. yeosang slipped him off and lay him on his right side, while you were on his left, all three of you left breathless but content (despite two of you receiving harsh punishments) and when some energy was restored yeosang got up and walked out. you’re not sure where he went but you couldn’t find it in you to care at the moment, grabbing wooyoung and cuddling him despite both of you being messy and sweaty. he’s a good cuddler. you stayed in that position for some time until yeosang came back. you heard a whispered “cute” when he entered and felt him poke you both. “water and fruits” his tone softer and more filled with care, contrary to his earlier tones of strict dominance. you love how his attitude did an entire 180 when you and woo were all fucked out.

“didn’t go too hard on you, did i?” he asked, slight worry clear in his eyes as he wiped both of you with a damp cloth, “if i say yes would you give me kisses?” wooyoung replied, causing you to roll your eyes at his behaviour for attention, “both of you will get kisses no matter what” he said as he placed a single loving kiss on both of your foreheads and lay in the middle of the two of you as both of you drank your water and ate your fruits, laying down to cuddle him after.

“i hope you both learned your lesson” he stated in a more serious tone to address you two, a unanimous “no” meeting his ears before hiding your faces in his neck giggling like children. yeosang couldn't help but chuckle lightly at how cute both his lovers are, reminding himself to punish you more tomorrow as he cuddled with you both and drifted to sleep

★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★

masterlist

ateez masterlist

taglist

#ateez smut #ateez fanfic #yeoyeos' works #wooyoung x reader #yeosang smut #ateez scenarios #yeosang fanfic #yeosang imagines #yeosang x reader #yeosang x y/n #yeosang x you #wooyoung fanfic #wooyoung smut #wooyoung x y/n #wooyoung x you #wooyoung imagines #sub!wooyoung

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emerald-onion · 1 year ago

Text

SCP-99: King of Negativity (Finished!)

Author Note:

I read back and decide to change some stuff from the Containment Procedure, mainly the request featuring Ink, because at that point in time they still haven't joined the Foundation yet, and also a note about Dream!

Random fun fact: Banana is Dream's favorite food. :)

Item #: SCP-99

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-99 is to be contained in a humanoid S-2 cell, comprised of corrosion-resistance aluminum. The containment cell is to remain under total observation at all times and to be fitted with TOF-Gold gas harvested from SCP-100, capable of flooding the entire assembly in no less than 5 minutes. Any items, movement, or non-normal activity observed on the containment cells or other site locations within one hundred meters of SCP-99 is to be reported to Site Security immediately. Any objects or personnel lost to SCP-99 are to be deemed missing/KIA. No recovery attempts are to be made under any circumstances.

Feeding is to be provided at least twice a week. SCP-99 is allowed to make requests. However, all requests must undergo review to discern any attempt to injure others. So far, subjects have requested:

Softer pillow (approved)

Several books (approved)

Scissors (denied)

A change of clothing (approved)

A mop (denied)

A lemon cake (approved)

A rag (approved)

A hot dog (approved)

A change of bedding (approved)

A cleaner cell (denied)

Internet access (denied)

An increase in feeding (approved)

Contact with Dr. Dream (approved) (denied)

Pencils and erasers (approved)

A new book (approved)

A bag of sour gummies (approved)

A banana birthday cake (approved)

Contact with Dr. Killer (approved)

Note: SCP discontinued due to escape. (Read Incident 2016)

Revision 2:

SCP-99 is to be contained in a humanoid S-2 cell, comprised of corrosion-resistance aluminum. The containment cell must be held suspended in a secondary cell, the walls of which must be at least ten meters distant from the outer walls of the primary cell. The secondary cell is to remain under total observation at all times and to be fitted with TOF-Gold gas harvested from SCP-100, capable of flooding the entire assembly in no less than 99.1 seconds with no direct human involvement.

Both containment cells must be always kept at a perfect temperature of 30'C. Any items, movement, or non-normal activity observed on the containment cells or other site locations within three hundred meters of SCP-99 is to be reported to Site Security immediately. Any objects or personnel lost to SCP-99 are to be deemed missing/KIA. No recovery attempts are to be made under any circumstances.

No physical interaction with SCP-99 is allowed at any time. All physical interaction must be approved by no less than a two-thirds vote from O5-Command. All staff (Research, Security, Class D, etc.) are to remain at least thirty meters away from the containment cell at all times, except for mandated maintenance and re-evaluation checks. Anyone who comes into contact with SCP-99 is to be given a daily psychological evaluation. Personals are only allowed to work with SCP-99 on the condition that they have no pre-diagnosed cases of mental illnesses. Personals are only allowed to work with SCP-99 for three months before they must be moved to another Site.

Feeding must be provided only twice a week. Additional feeding may only extend to testing situations. SCP-99 is not allowed to make requests.

"dr. dream is not allowed to interact with scp-99 no matter what. after all, attachment is what helps it breach containment once, who says it won't happen again?

dr. sans"

Description: SCP-99's body is comprised of a black, sticky, tar-like substance, which also covers its right eye. The subject has four appendages that grow from its back, made out of the same substance its body is made out of.

SCP-99 has the ability to sense and absolve any negative emotions in the proximity of exactly one hundred meters. If the environment is negative enough, not only can it create more tentacles out of its back, but it can also use its goop to shapeshift into other people and even grow massively in size. The subject's preferred weapon is its appendages, which it uses to restrain, terminate, or seize the victim. So far, SCP-99 has been proven to be near unkillable, capable of regenerating itself even when 90% of its body has been destroyed.

Psychological analysis has discovered SCP-99 to possess a highly manipulative nature, capable of forcing sudden and profound changes to the interviewer's psychological state. A long period of time under SCP-42320’s mental erosion will lead to depression, anxiety, paranoia, and an increase in aggressive behaviors. SCP-99 has proven to be majorly sadistic, prompting some to commit suicide and transforming others into near-mindless servants. It is unknown whether this proclivity toward negativity is the subject's original personality or a change brought forth by its transformation.

Twice a week, a D-Class diagnosed with mental illnesses must be given to SCP-99 for feeding. Feeding time will take a total of 30 minutes, during which any signs of the D-Class's psychological distress must be ignored. If the D-Class is still alive after a feeding, they are to be euthanized painlessly.

SCP-99 was born from an experiment gone wrong with SCP-100 (Read SCP-100: Tree of Feelings), resulting in the death of Dr. Nim Joku and the mutation of Dr. Nightmare Joku. Two years after being registered as an SCP, the subject breached containment with the help of Agent Killer. Their escapes caused the death of exactly 2364 personals, most notably Dr. Outer, which was the head Doctor assigned to SCP-99 at that point in time, and Dr. XFrisk, son of the Head Director Dr. XGaster. Although SCP-99 was recaptured on [REDACTED] by Agent Cross in [REDACTED], attempts at locating Agent Killer have been unsuccessful.

Addendum SCP-99-A: Despite suffering from a large alteration in personality, it has been proven that SCP-99 still possesses some habits and memories of Dr. Nightmare Joku. Please keep in mind that under no circumstances is Dr. Dream allowed to know this information.

Addendum SCP-99-B: Although SCP-99 is responsible for Dr. XFrisk's death, it is uncertain whether or not the subject also has a hand in the subsequent actions of Dr. XGaster. (Read Project X) Yes, what he did is horrible; yes, millions of children have suffered from it; but we all know that sometimes humans are capable of cruelty that far exceeds any monsters.

#undertale #utmv #utmv au #undertale multiverse #undertale multiverse au #scp #scp foundation #scp foundation: the x-file #nightmare sans #dream sans #nim #dreamtale #sans #cross sans #xgaster #xfrisk #underverse #outer sans

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runningfrom2am · 1 year ago

Text

the sea around us; chapter sixteen

In which Rafe Cameron has to choose between his dad and a pogue who's changing his outlook on life more and more every day.

(rafe cameron x f!oc)

(eventual!jj maybank x f!oc)

warnings/tags: violence, drug/alcohol use, smoking, sexual content (if you squint), slowburn, older brother’s best friend, (these tags are obv not exhaustive but regardless it’s pretty PG13)

wc: 4k (damn)

my masterlist

series masterlist

*:･ﾟ✧*:･

Kie absolutely flips back at The Chateau when John B and I show up from Tannyhill with Sarah. Needless to say, she is not pleased that we want Sarah in on it.

"No effing way!" Kie says to us, shaking her head, as everyone sits around just watching. "Seriously? So she's just in on this now?"

"I dunno, but all I care about is her cut comes out of your share." Pope shrugs, looking at John B and I.

"I don't remember taking a vote," Kie complains, crossing her arms. "This is our thing. A pogue thing."

"I gotta say, I'm just a tad uncomfortable with this," Pope speaks up and I sigh.

"Pope, when are you not uncomfortable?"

"I don't know, I rode here on the back of JJ's bike pretty comfortably." He replies and JJ nods.

"Yeah, I've honestly never seen him so relaxed."

"JJ you are not helping," I say and he immediately shuts up.

"That's cute you guys." John B says sarcastically.

"We were all extremely comfortable until you brought her!" Kie says, pointing to Sarah. "And we were all comfortable in doing our own thing until you started fucking her brother!" She says, turning to me and I throw my arms up, pacing the patio. "And suddenly, to both of you, pogue life doesn't matter anymore as soon as you get laid by some kooks!" I shoot her a look, running my hand through my hair.

"Stop talking about me like I'm not here!" Sarah says, drawing Kie's attention.

"Then leave," Kie says bitterly.

Sarah scoffs, looking over to John B. "See? I told you." She says, arms crossed,

"Tell them what exactly, Sarah? That you're a liar?"

"No, that you're a shit-talking bitch!" Sarah shouts back at her, sitting up now. I watch JJ and Pope as they immediately begin to place bets on who will win- JJ already has his wallet out.

"Everybody shut up!" John B shouts, grabbing everyone's attention.

"I'm fucking leaving," I grumble, grabbing my tote bag from the floor next to the couch. "Call me when you're done being pissed that I've found a guy who likes me more than you," I say to Kie before storming out, holding up my middle finger behind me without looking back.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･

I ended up going back to Tannyhill to spend the night, since now, without a home and the Chateau, it was my only option. I'm feeling thankful for Ward already. I ring the doorbell, and Wheezie answers a few moments later.

"Oh, hi Snowy." She says, pulling it open more so I can come in. "Rafe! Your girlfriend is here!" She shouts up the stairs.

"Hi, Wheezie." I smile, taking my shoes off and placing them beside the door. That is something I never let go of when I moved from BC, I hate that everyone here wears their shoes inside. Except when I'm at John B's, lord knows when the last time he or even Big John did a good mop, so that's my only exception.

"You know, you live here now so you don't have to ring the doorbell. Unless it's like 2 am the door is always unlocked." Wheezie tells me, crossing her arms and laughing a little at me both for removing my shoes and for not just walking in.

"Oh, okay. Good to know." I nod, smiling at her.

"Why did you take your shoes off?" She asks.

"Uh, well, in Canada no one wears shoes in the house. Especially other people's houses." I laugh slightly as Rafe comes down the stairs.

"Wheeze, leave her alone." He says, stopping before the last set and leaning on the railing.

"I just answered the door, I'm not bothering her." The young girl insists.

"No, definitely not bothering me," I assure him, smiling at his sister.

"Come on," Rafe says, signaling for me to follow him. I wave goodbye to Wheezie and thank her for opening the door, then I go up after Rafe.

"Okay, so, your room is just over here..." He says, pointing as we walk down the hall, and opening the door to the same guest bedroom I showered in last week. "Wheezies room is right down there, and my room is upstairs, as you know." He explains as we walk in, and I look around.

"Thank you." I smile at him.

"Yeah, uh, no problem." He says, and we both sit on the bed, me crossing my legs. "So, you live here now?" He laughs.

"Well, probably not full-time. John B is keeping the chateau so I'll likely still be there a lot." I shrug.

"Right, well, my dad said you were nervous since I didn't know he was going to offer, but I want you to know that I don't mind. Seriously." Rafe smiles at me, as I hear someone walking towards the open door. I look up and see that it's Ward.

"Rafe, we went over this, buddy." He laughs and Rafe gets up, raising his hands in mock surrender and walking back to the door.

"I gave this same talk to John B and Sarah, so don't feel weird, but there's going to be some rules." He says and I nod. "No going in each other's rooms, and no closed doors in other rooms, got it?" He asks, and Rafe and I make eye contact for a second. He smirks a little and looks me up and down.

"Dad, oh my god." Rafe groans, moving quickly on from our silent interaction so his dad doesn't pick up on it. "I'm an adult." He says and Ward turns to him.

"Yes, and she is seventeen, so you get the same rules as Sarah," Ward says, looking at his son seriously.

"Of course, that's fine," I say with a smile before Rafe starts arguing with him. "Thank you for letting me stay here," I tell him again.

"Rafe, if you could give me a minute with our guest," Ward says, turning to his son and giving him a look.

Rafe nods and walks away, heading up to his room, if I had to guess. Ward comes and sits down next to me.

"So, how is John B doing?" He asks, and I assume I look confused because he explains. "With his dad, and all that. I know it has to be hard on him."

"Well, he's doing alright. We all try our best to be there for him, but he won't accept that his dad likely will not be coming back alive, so it's a bit of a touchy subject." I tell him honestly, avoiding eye contact.

"Big John was a great man, wasn't he?" He asks and I nod. Big John was like a father to me. Of course, my dad is still alive and well, but there's just something so great about talking to someone else's dad about stuff you can't tell your own parents about. I feel like I could start crying so I know it's better for me not to speak.

"Is it true he was looking for the Royal Merchant when he disappeared?" Ward asks me.

"Well, I think so, yeah," I say quietly.

"Do you know if John B has expressed any interest in that? Finishing his father's work?" Why would Ward ask me about this? I decide it's best to ignore the question, and really lean into the whole 'death of a parental figure' thing. I let the tears flow as he's partway through his question, letting my shoulders start to shake and I cover my face.

"I'm so sorry, I just... Big John was a father to me too and I just haven't talked to anyone about it. No one ever asked how I was doing, you know?" I sob, lifting my hands to wipe under my eyes.

I catch a glimpse of him between my fingers while I wipe my eyes, and he looks more frustrated that I didn't answer than worried that I was so upset. He definitely knows something.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･

I haven't left my room since Ward came and talked to me. I need to talk to John B, but he stayed back at the chat with everyone else after I left. I don't even know if I want to talk to him. I've been staring at the ceiling for about forty-five minutes before I drift off to sleep, thinking endlessly about what Kie said to me in the afternoon.

When I wake up, my mouth is dry and I'm instantly uncomfortable because I'm still wearing jeans. It's pitch black outside- and I lift my phone from where it's fallen out of my hand at my side. 2:50 am. I've got to get a drink.

I look in the bathroom for a cup to grab some water, but there's nothing. I sigh and resign myself to having to walk down to the kitchen to grab a water bottle after quickly getting changed into some pyjamas.

I quietly sneak downstairs, but freeze on the steps when I see the lights on. I tiptoe down onto the landing, and walk over to the entrance, peaking into the doorway. No one there. I sigh a breath of relief and grab a water bottle from the fridge, before retreating back up the stairs, following the flashlight on my phone as it's pointed at the floor.

"Snow?" I look up when I hear my name.

"Oh, Rafe. Hi." I whisper back.

"What are you doing up?" He asks, stepping down the last couple steps onto this level and walking up to me.

"I was just thirsty so I just grabbed some water." I shake the bottle towards him. "What about you?"

"Oh uh... I just couldn't sleep, I guess." He replies, shrugging softly.

"Wanna go in the pool?" He asks, making me laugh.

"It's three am."

"C'mon, let's go. It's a private pool- it's not like it closes at five or anything." Rafe insists, a slight smile tugging on his lips.

I look towards my door and think for a second. It's not like I'm going to sleep any time soon, I just woke up. "Okay, yeah. Let me get changed quick." I nod, walking past him and into my room, and I'm surprised when he follows.

I grab a swimsuit from my bag that I haven't unpacked yet, and head into the bathroom to change, while Rafe sits down on my bed.

I come out and I quietly follow him downstairs and out onto the deck, and watch as he flicks on the lights in the pool and the ones that surround it. I take off my pyjamas which I threw back on top of my bathing suit, folding up my clothes and resting them on a chair with my phone.

We haven't said a word to each other, and I'm starting to feel a little nervous. I know I shouldn't, though. It's just too quiet out here.

"It's so quiet." I whisper to fill the silence as Rafe walks over and pulls off his sweats, tossing them on the chair next to my clothes. I guess he planned on going for a late night swim, since he's wearing trunks underneath.

"It's nice isn't it?" He replies, smiling at me as he walks over to the edge of the pool, stepping in.

"Yeah." I agree, following him over. "Is it cold?" I ask and he shakes his head.

I dip my foot in anyways just to check. "You and I have different definitions of cold." I giggle, pulling my foot back out.

"Okay come on, you'll get used to it." He smiles up at me, standing about waist deep now as he holds his hand out to me by the stairs.

"Okay, okay." I give myself a small pep talk as I take his hand, putting one foot in. Just then, he tugs slightly on my arm as if he's going to pull me in. "Oh my god!" I laugh, looking back at the house and making sure no one heard.

"I'm sorry," Rafe laughs, "I had to- I'm sorry. I promise I won't."

I give him a look of 'don't you dare' as I slowly take another step deeper, and another, until I'm up to my ribs.

"Oh my god this is the worst part." I laugh, holding my arms still above the water. I jump a little bit to try and warm myself up, and he's right, I'm adjusting quickly.

"It's not that bad." He smiles, shaking his head at me, still not letting go of my hand as I hold it above the surface.

"Okay, okay yeah. I'm good." I say, dropping his hand to let my arms fall into the water. It's still cold, so I pull my arms closer and cross them over my waist.

"Is green your favorite color?" Rafe asks me out of nowhere.

"Uh, I guess so." I shrug. "I mean, I really like brown too. Maybe a close second though, green is more fun."

"Gotcha. Yeah, I just figured 'cause like, you wear a lot of green stuff so..." He explains and I nod.

"As long as I don't wear a very specific shade of a bright forest green, I won't look like a leprechaun." I giggle and he looks confused, but laughs anyways.

"What?"

"Yeah, like, with my hair, and the freckles, it's kind of a fine line."

"Oh, I mean I guess so." He agrees. "Not that you do, uh, look like a leprechaun. I can just see how that could be, like, uhm... yeah." He sounds nervous now.

"What's your favorite color?" I ask, wanting to get the conversation off of me.

"Uh, I don't know. Maybe like... blue, I guess?" He answers, sounding unsure.

"Do you not have a favorite color?"

"Not really, no." He chuckles, shaking his head as he leans back against the edge of the pool.

"Okay, well what's your favorite color to look at? Like, what color itches your brain the most- is the most satisfying to you?"

"Maybe like... orange. Yeah, that's a nice color to look at." He nods, looking satisfied with that answer.

I smile. "Yeah, that's a good one. Like a nice sunset moment."

"Yeah, totally." Rafe nods, not pulling his eyes from me.

"Okay. Here's a good one." I start, leaning over the edge of the pool next to him and crossing my arms on the ground to support myself. "What is your favorite Fast movie?"

"Five. Definitely Five." He answers, without giving it a second thought.

I nod in approval. "Good choice." I grin, looking up at him. "That's my favorite too."

"Objectively like, it's the best one. I would say Seven but like, way too damn sad." Rafe shakes his head at that.

"Right? I literally always cry at the end."

"Okay so I have never cried watching a movie, but that movie almost did it for me." He laughs.

"You have to watch About Time. You will sob." I laugh.

"Never heard of it."

"Well, it's one of the best movies of all time. Up there with Frozen two. And Fast, obviously. And the Godzilla movies. The new ones, I mean." I ramble on.

"Do not tell me you like the Godzilla movies." Rafe laughs, looking at me in disbelief.

"I get a lot of flack for this, but they're my comfort movies." I nod.

"I've never met anyone who has liked those," Rafe shakes his head. "I mean, I don't hate them but they're a weird comfort movie to have."

I nod. "Yeah, like I get it- it is an odd choice. They're just fun." I say, turning to lean my back against the wall now to look out and see if I can see the ocean from here, and I can. The moonlight bounces off the waves beautifully and this is the perfect view through the clearing in the trees.

Rafe places his arm over my shoulders and leans into me, rubbing my arm in the process.

"God- you are cold. You've got goosebumps." He chuckles and I nod.

"I wasn't kidding. I am warming up now though, you were right."

"I'm always right." He says, a cocky tone to his voice.

I roll my eyes a little with a smile on my face and shake my head. "Big brother behaviour."

"Well, yeah, how else am I supposed to behave?" He chuckles, and I can feel his gaze on me.

"Fair enough- you don't know any better." I laugh, turning to look up at him.

And I thought JJ's eyes were blue- now I don't even remember what they look like. Maybe it's something to do with the pool lights having a blue tint- or the moonlight reflecting off the ocean in front of us, but Rafe's eyes look somehow bluer now than they ever have before.

"Thanks for like... being okay with me staying here." I say after he's quiet for a moment.

"I told you, I want you here." He replies, reaching up with his free hand and pushing some of my hair back that's fallen out of my bun.

"Can I... uh..." He says softly, leaning in towards me a little bit. I nod with a smile as he lets his hand rest on my cheek and pulls me closer, holding that same bit of hair back as he kisses me softly. It's sweet- not like the last two times. Not that the first two times were bad- but this is so different.

Last time, he did it to piss off my friends. Fully warranted. The first time, we were both so drunk we couldn't stand up straight. This is more real. A million times more real.

He pulls away and I feel my cheeks burning- the cold from the water and the breeze completely gone now.

"Orange like your hair." He says, and I furrow my brow a bit.

"Huh?"

"My favorite color."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･

The following afternoon, I agree to go out with John B, JJ, and Sarah to talk about what the plan is. What's happening with Kie, and maybe bring up what happened with Ward yesterday if I get a second alone with John B. I trust Sarah, but I'd need to talk to him first to see if he knows what's going on.

We're out in the marsh when John B asks us to grab something from the hold. We walk over, and right as I feel a presence behind me JJ is grabbing me and dropping me in. I scream, laughing as John B does the same thing to Sarah. It's not funny anymore, though, when they close the door and lock it behind us. "John B? JJ! Hey!" I yell, slamming on the door with Sarah.

"This isn't funny!" Sarah adds as we try to push it open. Shit, there goes us getting to talk.

"Sorry girls, I'll let you out later! I swear!" We hear him shout back.

"What are they doing?" I ask Sarah and she shakes her head.

"Not a clue." She says as we both just resolve to sit down. We'll probably be waiting a while. "They wouldn't actually just leave us, right? He's coming back to open it?"

"Of course, he'll come back." I nod. "John B wouldn't hurt a hair on your head- let alone leave you to starve in a hold. Me, on the other hand? Maybe." I joke, laughing slightly.

"No way," Sarah says, laughing and shaking her head. "You should hear the way he talks about you."

I roll my eyes at that, scoffing. "I'm serious! He loves you, when you're not around he refers to you as his sister." Sarah says as we both hug our knees to our chests.

"Well, that's sweet." I agree.

"And JJ is so obviously in love with you it is ridiculous." She whispers, laughing a little.

"He's like that with every girl who can breathe." I reply, "Trust me, it's not personal." I laugh a little bit. "Can I tell you a secret?" I whisper and I see her nod.

"I was absolutely obsessed with JJ. Since the day I met him. I told Kie I was in love with him. It is honestly so embarrassing..." I giggle, trailing off.

"What happened?" Sarah asks me. "I didn't know you had, like, history."

"Honestly? Pretty much nothing. We hooked up one time, allegedly he doesn't remember it happening, and I decided to try and avoid going through that again."

"Oh.." Sarah says, not sure what to say. "He's a liar." She chuckles. "There's no way he doesn't remember. Boys always remember- it doesn't matter how shitfaced they are, seriously."

"That's what I'm afraid of," I explain. "That he knew and was too embarrassed to admit it because it was weird."

Sarah sighs. "Yeah... I mean if he didn't want to be a big boy and talk about it, that's his loss."

"Thanks, Sarah." I smile. "But now, I think I'm starting to get over it. I'm happier."

"With Rafe?" She asks.

"Well, it's complicated, unfortunately. It wouldn't be my love life it made sense, would it?" We both giggle at this.

"Then what's up with you guys? We all know you're like, together."

"Nothing official, I guess. And we haven't like, done anything, if you were taking Kie's word at face value yesterday." I explain and she nods softly.

"My brother shut me out a few years ago, so I don't know a lot, but I can tell he's like, doing better, I guess. He's slightly less angry at the world, at us, whatever. You're getting in his head, is what I mean. In a good way." Sarah says and I smile a little. That does make me more relaxed about the situation. At least he wasn't just manipulating me when he told me he needed me, and that I'm helping him.

"It just... I don't get why she would say that to me. In front of everyone, too. It's not even true, she was straight-up lying; and for what? Like, it didn't do anything but hurt me. She knows I care about my friends. I literally always build my plans around her and the boys. Like, 'Oh, you want to go surfing in the afternoon? Sweet, I'll take a morning shift' or 'You guys need me for Royal Merchant stuff at noon? All good, I'll tell Rafe I need to be back by then'. I have never once told them no- I have never once put him first." I rant on for a minute and Sarah just lets me. "I mean, after Midsummers, when John B got pushed from the tower, I had told Rafe I would stay with him because he needed me. He needed me, I'm so serious Sarah he was having a really rough night. But I was there for her and for John B in a minute, so how dare she accuse me of not caring."

"Well, you know how I feel about Kie," Sarah says, "But putting myself in her shoes, you guys are family. Especially for you, and John B, and JJ, you guys are pretty much all you have. And I think she cares about you, and I think she just doesn't want to lose that."

"Yes, but I don't know because I've always been second to Kie. She was their friend first, she is rich, and smart, and so pretty, and I love her but it is hard to not look at this and think she's trying to take Rafe from me." Sarah laughs and shakes her head. "Not literally, of course- she hates him, I just mean it feels like she can't let me have one thing of my own. That's mine, and that I can be proud of, because our lives revolve so heavily around each other."

"That's the reason I ghosted her." Sarah nods. "I assume you only heard her side of the story, yeah?" She asks.

"Of course- please, go on." I laugh.

"I had my birthday party and didn't invite her. So she called the cops and got the party busted." Sarah said, stretching out her legs as much as she could in this tiny space. "She ruined my birthday because she wasn't there. I couldn't have a nice thing without her." She shakes her head.

"Sounds about right, apparently," I say, but I do know how hurt Kie was after that happened. She was heartbroken, and I was there for her.

Just then, we hear some commotion up on the deck and begin pounding on the door again as we hear splashing in the water. The door opens, and it's Kie. "Oh, great," Kie says sarcastically, stepping back as we climb out. We look off the edge, and JJ and John B are swimming away to Pope's boat.

Great indeed.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･

this part is so cute i literally cant- it might be my fave chapter omg

taglist: @boo22sstuff @madelynie (message me if you want to be added!!)

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underratedmhapoll · 1 year ago

Note

Apologies to the Rock Lock lovers in the audience for the loss, I did vote for him.

As the host of the 1-B poll, I have noticed something.

No matter how popular a character may be, the powerful girls of 1-B will likely come out on top. Ibara and Setsuna have mopped the floor with all of their opponents in my poll so far and I wouldn’t be surprised if they did it again.

These two seem to have comparatively massive fanbases that come out of the woodwork like the ratatouille rats whenever one shows up in a poll, and despite my average polls getting under a hundred votes these two (plus Monoma) wound up bringing that number well over 200 at times.

So at this point I’ve just gotten used to it, and it seems that fact it true here.

Whoever is against Setsuna next will likely, depending on who they are, also have some issues, so be ready!

Inko versus Setsuno. I'm already smelling blood in the water..

#ask #anonymous

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elm-writes-stories · 1 year ago

Text

Cuphead: Isle of Memories (Rewrite)

*Hey! I'm back with another episode! I'm so sorry that it took so long to get out. I've been busy with life and such. Anyway, this is published on September 10, 2023. If you guys like the episode, please don't forget to vote and comment! Warning: Blood, guts, and body disfiguration. Thank you and have a blessed day! Enjoy!*

Episode Five: A Cat's Hell

Cassidy was sitting alone on the couch in a dark living room. Her eyes bloodshot and her body trembling. She was hugging her knees, her tail wrapped around her leg.

“Burden! Burden!”

“She looks like a wet mop.”

“Ew, she looks gross.”

“LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID TO ME YOU STUPID CAT! YOU SCRATCHED ME!”

“You deserved to be drowned.”

Cassidy started to sob, her ears pinned back. She could see the words etched all around the walls keeping her trapped and confined.

Burden.

Wet Mop.

Stupid cat.

Freak.

Ugly.

Annoying.

Disgusting.

Destructive.

Evil.

Belong to the Devil.

You don’t matter.

Those words were written over each other and all around the walls while the voices had gotten louder and louder until—

“What’s wrong?”

Cassidy felt a warm light on her back and turned to see Porkrind standing there with a soft gaze. She looked ahead to see the words etched over and over. “Can’t believe I lived through fifteen years…I mean, who would’ve thought?”

She watched her father sitting next to her, lighting up the dark living room only a little bit.

“There’s still life ahead,” Porkrind stated softly while looking at the etched words in front of him. “You believe all of those words?”

“Every single one of them,” Cassidy responded sadly.

Porkrind frowned. As they were staring at the destructive words in front of them, the uplifting words started to appear behind them.

Precious.

Beautiful.

Smart.

Compassionate.

Cute.

Amazing fighter.

Cutest Purrs.

Miracle Baby.

Kind.

Caring.

Angel.

Not a burden.

Sister.

Best Friend.

Sweetheart.

Lover.

Soft.

Belong in the light.

You matter.

The words were all neat and concise, making it perfect to read. However, Cassidy didn’t see the kind words behind her.

“What’s on your mind?” Porkrind asked.

Cassidy bit her bottom lip. “Well, so many things. First, the Night Stalkers situation and waiting for a moment where they find us and kill us. Then there’s Mugman with Tremaine inside of him and who knows when the potion will wear off. And then…there’s me…just existing. Do you think my parents love me?”

Porkrind placed a hand on the red feline’s shoulder, already providing warmth and comfort that eased her emotions. “With all of their hearts.”

She frowned and looked at the words in front of her. “I wish they tell me that right here.”

“They do. They do.”

“How do you know? Have you met them?” Cassidy asked while looking up to find that she could no longer see Porkrind. It was a figure in a white cloak, his hand still on her shoulder with a bright light covering his face. She had to look away since it was getting bright.

“Yes, I have,” Porkrind’s voice faded, the voice becoming more soft-spoken and gentle. “And they told me that they love you everyday. They wished to be here to tell you that themselves and show you all of their love. They want me to tell you that they have love you ever since you are born, even while you were in your mother’s womb. They want me to tell you ”

“How do I know what I’m hearing is real?”

“Look behind you.”

Cassidy slowly turned around, facing the bright light. She could see the words…but couldn’t make out what they were saying. She squinted before—

She blinked her eyes open to find herself strapped onto the metal table. She looked around to find anyone nearby. The comforting warmth had vanished once she woke up. Now it was too hot in here. The sweat dripped around her red fur while she struggled in her restraints.

“LET ME GO!!” Cassidy cried, her head twitching and her veins glowing orange.

She resisted once Mugman entered her memory. His warm goofy smile and his unconditional hugs filled her head, which was contradicting the memories she remembered before shaking hands with the Devil. Wasn’t he ignoring her? No, he wasn’t. It couldn’t be. He really wanted to be with her. She remembered his sheepish grin when he confessed his love to her. Yes! He was the first to confess his feelings to her, not the other way around. And it wasn’t even out of pity as the Devil said before. Right? Was she going crazy? She might be.

Her veins glowed brighter orange, filling her head with a lie that Mugman outright said he hated her, but she knew it wasn’t true. Of course, it wasn’t. That wasn’t the Mugman she knew.

While she was resisting the lies and manipulation from Tremaine, Devil, Henchman, and Stickler were standing outside with Devil using his fingers to try to manipulate her to control the Tremaine in her veins.

“Dang it, I knew I shouldn’t have revealed her too soon to that blue-nosed buffoon,” Devil growled.

“D’uh, boss, maybe you should, I don’t know, put her back to the mortal world,” Henchman suggested.

“No, she’s a valuable asset. It’s just…now she’s refusing to believe in the memories I gave her,” Devil groaned.

“Erm, Henchman is right. The Most High might not be pleased with what you are doing and you have to put her back. The Most High has a way of using people to interfere with your plans,” Stickler reminded Devil.

Devil growled. “You know what, Stickler, I’m sick and tired of you and your existence. I need something more…extreme…something to get her back to me.” He thought for a moment and smirked evilly. “Oh, I think I got a better idea.”

He clenched his fist, watching Cassidy’s veins glowed brighter orange. She screamed in agony when she saw her biological parents getting tired of taking care of her. They would yell words at her that were hurtful.

“Piece of burden!”

“Will you stop being a burden for two seconds?!”

Cassidy cried in pain while tears were streaming down her face. Her mind spiraled back into the darkness, now with a faint voice calling out.

“Don’t believe in the lies! Don’t believe in the lies!”

Cassidy sobbed some more, buying into the lie once again. Her biological parents never loved her. Even if Porkrind had or hadn’t shown love as her father, her real parents never loved her. How would her father know? Mugman wouldn’t know either. No one would know except for the mysterious figure in her dream. Tremaine soon took over her whole body, pushing her back into a deep dark sleep and awakening a demon in her with red eyes and white slit pupils.

~.~

Mugman snapped his eyes with a horrified gasp.

What just happened…? Did he just witness Cassidy suffering under Tremaine? He shook his head while he faced the darkness.

“What’s the matter, little one?” A voice asked gently behind him.

Mugman knew it was only Angel checking in on him. He was about to turn around, but he remembered to not to.

“Cassi…I need to find Cassi! You said that there’s a portal to the waking world, right?!” Mugman questioned, looking around the darkness.

“Yes, but I’m afraid that it’s not here yet.”

“How long till it appears?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t you know anything—?!” Mugman swiftly turned around to face Angel angrily. Angel had blue fur and angelic wings and halo with little horns. But those looks faded away quick when he was transformed into a red fiery demon with horns shaped like rams and bat-like wings.

Mugman screamed and turned back around, running from Angel.

“Wait, don’t run, little one! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean it!”

Mugman ran as fast he could through the darkness, hoping to find the waking portal. However, he noticed a fireball ahead of him. He whirled around and found that something went through his body. He looked to realize that it was only blue ball that didn’t hit him like a fireball would.

“Are you okay? Did I scare you?” Angel’s voice echoed in the darkness.

Mugman breathed heavily and realized that he was on the plane…and Angel wasn’t the only resident there. There was another figure, a monstrous demon he was facing glaring into his soul.

“T-There’s two of you,” Mugman uttered in realization. “Where am I—?” He turned around to find a skeleton of the familiar horned Devil staring down at him with hollow eyes. “What is this place?!”

“A place where you die!” Demon barked and threw a fireball at Mugman.

Mugman yelped and turned around, facing Demon in front of him.

“Little one, don’t fret—”

“Let him! He’s delicious when he’s afraid!” Demon interrupted Angel, throwing another fireball. Mugman dodged out of the way with heavy breaths. He noticed his hands glowing blue with sparks. He shot the sparks at Demon, who took the hit with a snarl in pain. Mugman’s wings spread and he flew up to meet Demon’s eyes. His eyes and his veins glowed blue, shooting sparks at Demon. Demon took the impacts of the sparks, electrocuting him. Demon growled and summoned the beamed of fire by the palm of his hands. He threw it Mugman. Mugman gasped and whirled around, feeling water instead of burns on his back.

The young mug teen smiled brightly and faced Demon with a determined glare. He summoned water and electricity, shooting them at the red-furred demon in front of his face.

“Wait, little one—!” Angel’s voice tried to warn him.

Demon shot more fireballs out of frustration. Mugman dodged them swiftly and flew towards the red demon, splashing water from his palms with sparks within. Demon was hit by the water and electricity, struggling against his chains.

“Why you little—!” Demon’s words were interrupted by another hit from the sparks.

The last spark was the one that electrocuted Demon more than any other sparks Mugman threw at him. Demon was electrocuted with a scream and the chains pulled him back into one of the Devil’s hollow eyes. Mugman arched a brow in confusion and glanced to see Angel, without turning into Demon, being dragged along with Demon into the skull.

Mugman landed on the ground and watched them trapped in the skull belonging to the Devil. “What did I just do?”

“How did you do that?”

Mugman gasped and whirled around to face Gabriel, standing over him with shock in his eyes. “What did I just do?”

“Angel and Demon are tied to the Devil. Angel was what Devil was once and Demon was what he became. I’ve been trying to find you and I didn’t realize you ended up here with Angel and Demon. How did you even get here?”

“I-I don’t know.”

Gabriel frowned. “Well, at least you defeated them.”

“I need to get to the waking portal,” Mugman begged Gabriel.

“Why?”

“Cassidy. I saw her suffering in that lab! Devil is controlling her and hurting her! I need to wake up! I need to get her before it’s too late!”

“I am not sure if it’s here. It appears whenever it appears.”

“I need it to appear now!”

“Hold on—”

Mugman and Gabriel noticed the skull opening its mouth. Gabriel arched a brow in suspicion and looked at Mugman.

“Should we go into the mouth of the Devil?” Mugman questioned Gabriel.

“Hmm,” Gabriel uttered.

~.~

Gabriel and Mugman walked through the mouth of the skull, their eyes wondering around.

“I’ve never done this before,” Gabriel uttered while they looked around the darkness.

“Done what before?”

“Defeating Angel and Demon. I’ve been staying away from them for a while. I never thought you ended up there.”

“Why would you avoid them?”

“Well, Angel isn’t really an angel. He’s a demon. But I’m sure he didn’t tell you that in the beginning.”

“He said he would be turned into a monster if I turned around.”

“Yeah, that sums it up. But you put up a pretty good fight out there,” Gabriel replied with a proud tone.

Mugman looked at his hands. “I, uh, thanks…it’s just that…I don’t feel like I’m in control of my powers.”

Gabriel frowned. “Yeah, they get out of control once you get emotional.”

Mugman tilted his head. “So…stop being emotional?”

“What? No, that’s not what I’m saying. You have control of your powers whether you are emotional or not. Your powers adapt over time. I know it’s weird, but there’s always going to be new things you could do that you never knew you could. That’s part of having the gifts.”

Mugman frowned and noticed the stairs on the side of the skull’s jaw. He and Gabriel exchanged gazes before heading up the stairs and saw Angel and Demon chained up tighter within the skull.

“You little—”

“Now, now, you’re the one who picked a fight with him,” Angel argued with Demon.

“Shut it! He shouldn’t be here in the first place!” Demon shouted at Angel.

Gabriel looked between them with a brow arched.

Mugman noticed the hollow eyes looking at Cassidy, standing beside him with her eyes red and white slit pupils. He drew his brows together and ran up to the hollow eyes.

“Hey, what are you doing—?”

Mugman’s eyes glowed blue, which turned the hollow eyes blue.

Meanwhile, Devil was at a conference room in Hell with the demons controlled by Tremaine, including Henchman, Stickler, and Cassidy.

“Now that Tremaine is effecting the water systems, it’s only a matter of time before everyone else could have this chemical inside of them—!” Devil’s pupils suddenly turned blue.

“LET HER GO!!!”

The scream sounded familiar. Oh no, he knew who was getting into his head.

It was soon that Mugman was forced out of the Devil’s skull along with Gabriel. Mugman fell into the dark pit, with Gabriel left behind with Angel and Demon.

“Mugman—!”

Mugman fell before the light enveloped him from behind.

~.~

Mugman gasped awake, feeling someone’s hands on his shoulders.

He sat up abruptly from the bed and noticed Cuphead’s hand on his shoulder. He saw Natalie, Canteen, and Chalice looking over at the mug.

“Easy there, buddy, easy—”

Mugman didn’t have time to take it easy. He hopped off the bed and ran out of the bedroom.

“Mugman!” The kids shouted.

Mugman didn’t listen as he ran out of the base, confusing Dice in the early morning.

“Where are you kids going?” Dice questioned.

“I don’t know!” Cuphead responded while chasing after his brother.

“We’ll be back!” Canteen reassured Dice before the kids ran out of the base to get Mugman.

Mugman’s wings spread and hopped off out of the ground. He flew up into the sky, trying to find the entrance to Hell.

However, Cuphead spread his own fiery wings and flew off after his brother.

Dice witnessed the brothers’ wings and looked at the coffee pot that he had been drinking. “And things just got weirder.”

Meanwhile, Mugman flapped his wings to keep himself up in the air. Cuphead dashed through the sky into his brother, tackling him.

“Mugman, what are you doing?!” Cuphead shouted as both of the brothers fell from the sky.

“Cuphead, let go of me!” Mugman growled. The brothers were falling into the volcano, crashing through paper that has the image of lava. They tumbled down into the Underworld and collapsed on the ground with groans in pain.

“What the—?” Cuphead uttered in shock and let go of his brother. “The volcano was the entrance this whole time?!”

Mugman stormed off, which caused Cuphead to hurry after him.

“Wait, Mugman, slow down.”

“Slow down?! Slow down?! You’re telling me to slow down!”

“Yes! You’re not thinking rationally!”

“Oh, and you do?!”

“At least for once, yes!” Cuphead argued.

Chalice floated down into Hell in her ghost form. “Will you two ding-dongs stopped your shouting? You’re gonna alert the Devil and his imps if you keep shouting like that. Natalie and Canteen might stay behind to get help—”

Canteen’s scream could be heard from above them as he crashed onto the ground with a groan. “Ow—”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!” Natalie screamed until she landed onto Canteen’s stomach, causing him to grunt.

“Ow!” Canteen yelped.

“Sorry, sorry,” Natalie apologized instantly.

“Or not…” Chalice replied while looking at them both. “You guys okay?”

Canteen raised his thumb up with a wheeze. “I’m okay.”

Cuphead glanced at Natalie. “Are you okay?”

Natalie groaned while getting up on her feet. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Man, who would’ve thought a volcano would be a cover-up?”

“It’s kind of obvious,” Canteen said while covering his side.

Chalice put her hands on her hips. “Well, now that we’re here, we might as well come up with a genius plan to get Cassidy out of the Devil’s control. So I was—”

“Mugman left,” Canteen pointed out.

The kids looked to see a puff of smoke that had the silhouette of Mugman until it disappeared into thin air with a pop.

“Aw, come on!” Chalice responded irritably.

“Mugman!” Cuphead called while running off. Chalice, Canteen, and Natalie followed behind him.

Meanwhile, Mugman strode through Hell with determination. He didn’t care if it was getting hot or if this was a reckless plan. Cassidy was down there. He saw her getting tortured. What more of a reason to go down here without thinking of a plan?

Mugman was lost though. He couldn’t tell which direction he was going, but he didn’t care. He had to keep going straight until he could find Cassidy. Maybe he could talk some sense into her. Maybe he could break the Devil’s spell on her. Maybe he could save her.

The teen mug didn’t realize he stumbled into the room full of green gas and mirrors. Should he breathed into that stuff? It wasn’t killing him. However, he felt light-headed. Why? His answer came when he looked into the mirror. His eyes widened in horror to see himself in the mirror, covered in blood. In the reflection, his veins were glowing orange just like it did when he had Tremaine inside of him. He had fur and his eyes were yellow with red irises.

That monster in the reflection crawled out to reach for Mugman.

“Get away!” Mugman screamed and kept running ahead, hoping to get to the other side of this place. However, as he was running, he heard a familiar maniacal laughter echoing in the chambers. The mug gasped and whirled around, stumbling against the mirror that showed Hunter’s reflection. Mugman felt grabbed by the handle, using sparks to shoot at whoever was gripping him from behind. He stumbled onto the ground and looked up to see the familiar tiger looming over him with a sadistic smile.

“Hello, little animal, been a long time—” Hunter’s stomach opened as his guts fell out of him. His skin peeled off of his face while his fur fell on the floor. However, Hunter wasn’t the only one coming out of the mirror. There were thirty-six hooded figures coming out, each one had their stomachs opened with missing guts and intestines.

“No! No! I-I didn’t mean it like this! I-I—!” Mugman glanced down to find his hands covered in blood along with his clothes. He started to tear up, breathing heavily and pressing his head against his hands. He closed his eyes while the pain in him grew more. He could feel his body transforming into something that was not. He had to keep moving to find Cassidy—

He opened his eyes and found Cassidy laying there on the floor, her blood surrounding her. He shook his head while gritting his teeth in pain. He reached out towards her and cradled her. He sobbed into her chest.

“No-No! I’m so sorry, Cassi! I’m so so sorry! Please, come back to me!” Mugman sobbed while holding Cassidy so close. “I love you! I love you so much! Please, come back to me! Please!” He clenched his jaw, ignoring Hunter and the assassins around him. He didn’t care what they had to say.

He could hear footsteps, but he didn’t care who was approaching him. He wanted to stay here and hold Cassidy in his arms, praying to whoever could hear him to bring Cassidy back.

~.~

“Mugman!” Cuphead called while entering the hall where the green gas was. He looked around to find mirrors all around the hall. “Ooh, fancy.”

Chalice, Canteen, and Natalie caught up to Cuphead.

“You think Mugman could be in here?” Chalice asked Cuphead.

Cuphead shrugged. “Let’s find out.”

Cuphead strode into the room with confidence. Chalice, Canteen, and Natalie followed him with unsure looks on their faces. As they were walking through the hall of mirrors, Canteen messed around with the green gas.

“Uh, should this stuff kill us?” Canteen questioned the others.

He didn’t hear a respond.

“Guys?” Canteen looked up and found that his group was gone.

However, his surroundings changed. It was…the orphanage? Canteen looked around to find all the kids working their butts off until he could see the younger version of himself. It’s hard to believe that he was so closed off when he was younger. Although, Canteen knew why.

He looked to find parents wanting to adopt him, believing that he was exceptionally gifted with everything. A Jack of all trades, potential parents would say.

However, Canteen could see the first parents who adopted him. They looked so happy to bring Canteen home and Canteen…was much more happier than he did. Canteen’s environment changed into somewhere warm and cozy. He looked to watch his adopted mother playing the violin with a soft gasp.

Canteen started to get teary-eyed and pressed his hand against the invisible wall. He couldn’t reach them no matter how hard he tried to break down the wall. His adopted father was playing the piano while his adopted mother taught his younger self how to play the violin. The tears leaked out of his eyes as he shook his head. He knew what was going to happen next.

His environment changed dramatically to the sight of a broken car crashed into a building. He blinked and watched in horror to see that his adopted parents, who were so loving before, laying in their car seats limped. No one came to help them. No one came to save them from the wreckage. Canteen Hughes stood there with tears in his eyes.

He stepped back from the wreckage, shaking his head.

“No, wait—!”

Canteen’s surroundings changed, causing him to breathe heavily once he was back in the orphanage. He blinked and caught his breath once another set of parents adopted him. A mechanic and his wife. Canteen remembering how to fix cars from the couple a long time ago. He was in their house, but he could hear them fighting constantly.

Little Canteen was thirsty one night and went into the kitchen to get a cup of water. When he entered the kitchen, his eyes widened in horror. He saw his other adopted mother by his adopted father. He glanced over at Canteen, who trembled at the sight of his adopted father holding the knife. However, his adopted father shed tears once he realized he had killed his wife. Little Canteen watched his own adopted father over taken by grief and guilt that his adopted father slit his own throat.

Little Canteen screamed in terror, shedding tears and trembling. He had to call for help and he did. Canteen, now older, watched his younger self crying and grieving over his adopted parents. His surroundings changed back to the orphanage, now witnessing the caretakers for the orphanages whispering things for potential parents that caused to look at young Canteen in discomfort and look for other kids to adopt.

“Bad luck, Hughes!”

Canteen clenched his jaw and glanced at the other kids to see them shouting in terror and pointing at him.

“No, it’s not true—”

“Don’t adopt him, he’ll bring you bad luck,” the caretakers whispered around him.

“Parents died after they adopted him. He’s not convicted of anything…but he seems to bring bad luck to the new parents who adopts him,” the caretakers said to the parents.

Canteen shaking his head. “It’s not true. It’s not my fault!”

“Bad Luck Hughes!”

“SHUT UP!” Canteen barked at the voices around him. Everything went dark around him. He was frozen in fear while more voices were shouting at him.

“Bad Luck Hughes!”

“It’s not true!” Canteen cried, but the voices insisted.

“Bad Luck Hughes!”

Canteen covered the sides of his head as if he was covering his ears. He squeezed his eyes shut. Trying not to cry or let it get to him, the voices went inside of his head even when he covered his ears.

“Bad Luck Hughes!”

He screamed, trying to be louder than the voices in his head. But no matter what he was doing, he could still hear the voices.

~.~

Chalice heard Canteen’s scream as she whirled around. She saw Canteen crouched down, covering his head with tears trickling into his googles.

“Canteen? Canteen?!” Chalice shouted in concern. She breathed in the gas and stumbled once she felt a little light-headed. She glanced over to see…herself except more taller. In her reflection, she had a white gown on with a golden shawl on her shoulders. She was glowing in the light, but there was blood on her golden hands. She had a golden spear.

Chalice blinked and shook her head before her surroundings transformed into a battlefield. Was this the battlefield that Mugman claimed to be seeing? No…it wasn’t. She saw her friends from her group known as the Calix Animi lying dead all around her. She looked at herself to realize that she had grown taller with bloodied hands. Chalice sniffled and looked to see her best friend laying dead on the grass.

“Gabriel?” Chalice called while coming up to the dead cup on the battlefield. She collapsed on her knees and cradled him in her arms. She clenched her jaw. “Gabriel, Gabriel! Can you hear me?!” She looked up and gasped in horror when new bodies were on the battlefield of everyone she was grouped with. The ones that stood out to her was Cuphead and Mugman laying on the battlefield and bleeding.

“Ding dongs! Hey! Are you guys okay?!” Chalice cried, running towards them.

The brothers didn’t respond to her call.

“GUYS!” Chalice sobbed while looking up to see Canteen laying against the boulder, limped. She shook her head and came by his side. “Canteen? Canteen, hey! C’mon, wake up! Wake up!”

Soon, she was surrounded by more and more dead bodies. She looked up to find the Devil and his army, coming towards the battlefield and readying their weapons. She stood alone with her spear, glaring ahead of her.

~.~

Natalie looked at the mirrors around her with each of her reflection staring back at her. She was behind Cuphead, but not very long when she realized that her reflections were starting to show her ugliness with her hair out of control, missing her front tooth, and chips all over her face.

“Oh no, Natalie, you’re losing your beauty. No one is going to want an ugly duckling, now would they?”

Natalie heard the voice of her mother and quickly rushed to pretty herself up as fast as she could. But no matter how hard she tried to look beautiful, she kept getting uglier and uglier to the point where even make-up wouldn’t even save her beauty. She shook her head.

“Ugh, why can’t I just—?”

A maniacal laugh echoed behind Natalie. She tensed up and noticed someone behind in the reflection. She looked behind her and saw a familiar friend in a red dress and red eyes standing there and leaning against the reflection.

“How cute. You’re still worried about your looks,” Cassidy spoke with a sadistic smile. “You’re still the same Natalie that I remembered.”

“Cassi?” Natalie recognized tearfully.

“Why don’t we catch up?” Cassidy responded with the orange glow in her veins. “I heard that our school is holding a reunion for all the students there. Sadly, I wasn’t invited. But who says that I needed to be invited when I can just come anyway? Why don’t I take you there, hm?”

Natalie watched everything shift around. She blinked in shock when the earth was moving under her feet. “Cassi, what are you doing?”

Cassidy smirked evilly and teleported them out of the hall of mirrors.

Natalie and Cassidy were at the school…but was the school real? Did Cassidy take Natalie into her mind? Was this all a hallucination?

“Oh, look, we’re here,” Cassidy said with a bright smile, turning Natalie around to have her focus on Cassidy when she was a kitten. Young Cassidy was walking with Porkrind and Jerry to school. Young Cassidy was clutching onto Porkrind’s leg.

“Don’t make me go. Don’t make me go—”

It fast forward suddenly, earning a brow raised from Natalie. If Natalie could recall correctly, she could remember Porkrind and Jerry trying to soothe her into going to school. Something wasn’t right in the memories.

It fast forward to when Young Cassidy was about to approach Young Natalie.

“Ooh, I remember this part really well,” Cassidy said while gripping on Natalie’s shoulders to make her watch the memory unfold.

Young Cassidy approached Young Natalie, who looked at the kitten in annoyance.

“Hi, I’m Cassidy. What’s your name?” Young Cassidy chirped.

“Ugh, I don’t befriend peasants who wear overalls,” Young Natalie responded with a scoff. The other little girls that Young Natalie was friends with laughed at Young Cassidy.

Young Cassidy frowned and closed herself off.

Natalie clenched her jaw. “Oh yeah…I definitely remembered that.”

“That’s good. I was gettin’ worried that you’re going to gaslight me like you usually do.”

“G-Gaslight?” Natalie questioned.

“Oh, you don’t think you did? Let’s see what else you did—Oh, I think I found some memories that might tell us more about you.”

Cassidy snapped her fingers and the memory of Young Natalie watching Young Cassidy carried and thrown into the lake by Jimmy and Jamie, laughing along with her friends.

“WAIT!!!” Natalie screamed, but the bullies threw Young Cassidy into the lake. It was sudden that Natalie was thrusted into another memory of where the bullies threw Cassidy into the tall hollow tree trunk while Young Natalie was laughing along with her friends. Young Cassidy cried while scratching on the wood.

“Please! Let me out! Please!!! Let me out!!!” Young Cassidy cried.

“Wait, Cassi! I didn’t laugh during those times.”

“Oh, here you go again with the gaslighting,” Cassidy said with a smirk. “You know, you oughta try a little harder to be manipulative—”

Natalie and Cassidy noticed Young Natalie heading over to the empty tree trunk with rope and ladder. Young Natalie took the ladder and climbed up to throw down the rope. Young Cassidy climbed out of the tree trunk and tumbled onto the ground along with Young Natalie.

“Thank you,” Young Cassidy uttered.

Young Natalie shook her head. “Don’t mention it.”

“No, really, I—”

“I mean, don’t ever mention to anyone that I helped a social outcast. Just go back home and don’t let them catch you, got it?” Young Natalie responded.

Young Cassidy nodded her head.

“Good. Now go.”

Young Cassidy hurried off with Young Natalie watching the little kitten softly.

Cassidy widened her eyes, the red disappeared. She looked back at Natalie with normal-looking eyes.

“Cassi!” Natalie replied happily.

Cassidy winced back from Natalie, stuck in her memories. “Natalie…what…where are we?”

“Uh…I think you took me into your memories…don’t even ask me how. But I’m so happy that you’re back and—!”

Cassidy’s eyes instantly changed back to red with white slit pupils. “You’re happy that I’m back? I thought I was a burden to you.”

Natalie blinked in shock. “Cassi…about what I said in the dungeons, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Yes, you did. Every single word.”

“Cassi, you really don’t think less of me, do you? Are you really going to judge me for one mistake I made?”

“One mistake?” Cassidy scoffed. “One mistake?! Oh, you’ve made a lot more than one.”

“What?”

Cassidy snapped her fingers. “Didn’t you tell me that you’ve befriended me out of pity?”

“C-Cassi—”

Natalie looked up and saw the younger versions of Natalie and Cassidy hanging out together. They were ten if Natalie remembered correctly.

“The only reason why I’m even friends with you is because I feel sorry for you,” Young Natalie responded. “And I want to be friends just to spite Mom. Mom keeps expecting me to do so much and it’s gettin’ tiring. Sooo, what do you say? You want to be my friend?”

“Sure,” Young Cassidy replied happily.

“Such a burden of a friend who wanted nothing more than someone her age to befriend her,” Cassidy replied with a sly grin. “But she’s so desperate for a friend…I’m desperate for a friend, Natalie…and you haven’t been a very good friend.”

Natalie looked through memories of memories where she started to breathe heavily.

“Ugh, Cassidy, it’s no big deal. You can still eat the sugar.”

“Oh my gosh, why did you throw up so much?”

“Relax, Cassi, it’s not like going to fairs are gonna kill ya.”

“See? Everything works in our favor.”

“Ugh, Cassidy, you can be such a worry wart sometimes.”

“Cassidy, you need to make yourself look pretty if you want someone to be impressed by you.”

“SHUT UP!” Natalie shouted while watching many memories of Natalie walking over Cassidy and pressuring Cassidy of doing things that Natalie wanted to do.

“Ugh, here we go, she’s going to rant.”

“Why can’t we just go to the water park instead of the library?”

“Come on, Cassi! It’s not like the water is going to kill you.”

“Are you really going to leave your friend out to dry? Or are you going to be a good friend and come with me to try this sushi place?”

Natalie breathed heavily. “Cassi…”

“You remembered all of this, do you?”

She shook her head and looked at her best friend. “Cassi, look, these were all just—”

“WHY ARE YOU SUCH A BURDEN?!”

Natalie clenched her teeth and grabbed her head. “I didn’t mean for any of this. I made a mistake, Cassidy. I made a mistake.”

“Oh no…not a mistake. You’ve never really cared about me,” Cassidy growled at Natalie. “You’ve just used me as your pawn for your little rebellion against your mom. You know that I’m desperate for a friend my age and you took advantage of that. You may have saved me from that tree trunk, but you still didn’t care. You always want to look good in both looks and personality. But here you are…uglier than you’ve ever been before.”

“Please, Cassi—”

Cassidy gripped around Natalie’s throat. “Tell me, Natalie. Am I ever good enough to be your friend? Or do you still think I should’ve been dead along with my kind?”

“Cassi—I didn’t mean any of those words.”

“Nuh-uh, remember the memories you saw. Remember how careless you were of me. Now answer me. Am I ever going to be good enough to be your friend or do I deserve to die along with my kind?”

Natalie breathed heavily in fear.

~.~

Cuphead continued onward, unaware of his friends staying behind and under their hallucinations. However, he saw his brother ahead, cradling something but there was nothing in his arms.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…”

“Mugman?” Cuphead uttered until he got a little light-headed. Mugman disappeared from his vision…which was strange.

His surroundings changed into Elder Kettle’s house as he turned around behind him to find Mugman’s body sprawled on the floor. He was bleeding everywhere as if something just killed him. Cuphead breathed heavily in fear.

“Mugman…Mugman! Noo!! This is all in my head—wait a minute,” Cuphead uttered and looked at his brother. “Wait, I saw you a second ago. There ain’t no way you’re dead.”

Mugman suddenly snapped his eyes open with red in his irises and his monstrous form taking over.

Cuphead squinted at Mugman in confusion. “Wait, we just got Tremaine out of you. There ain’t no way you got Tremaine inside of you again.”

Mugman froze in shock.

“Yeah, this is definitely in my head. Wait, what’s the word where you’re seeing things that aren’t really there? Hmm…”

Mugman leaped to attack Cuphead, who was fighting back.

“Hold on, I know the word…what is it?”

Mugman started to roar like a maniac while Cuphead was throwing him down on the ground.

“Will ya calm down for one second?! I’m over here racking my brain around about what a hallucination is.” Cuphead widened his eyes with a bright smile. “Hey, that’s right. Hallucinations are hallucinations.”

Mugman didn’t say with him.

“Hey, you didn’t say it with me. You’re not real!” Cuphead shouted at his hallucinations.

Cuphead was brought back to reality, which he realized that he was facing a mirror the entire time. He blinked to see the red outline protecting him from the fear gas around him. The young cup brightly smiled and looked back to see Mugman cradling something that wasn’t there. With determination, he came by his brother and put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. There was a sudden red outline around his body. Mugman blinked to realize he wasn’t holding anything and looked up to find Cuphead with his hand resting on his brother’s shoulder.

Cuphead smiled and helped his brother up on his feet. Both Cuphead and Mugman went around the mirror hall, holding hands to keep Mugman sane throughout the trip. They saw Chalice trying to fight off something. Cuphead grabbed her shoulder, letting the red outline around Chalice. Chalice blinked in shock as the three of them saw Canteen covering his head with tears in his eyes.

They walked over to Canteen with Cuphead holding both Mugman’s and Chalice’s hands. Chalice reached over and placed her hand Canteen’s shoulder. The red outline went around Canteen, snapping him back to reality. He looked up to find Chalice pulling him up on his feet. She held his hand tightly so that they wouldn’t let go.

They looked around the mirror hall to not find Natalie anywhere, which was strange. Where did she go? They walked out of the hall of mirrors and stood in horror, their eyes widened to find Cassidy holding Natalie hostage by her throat.

“Looking for her?” Cassidy asked the other kids.

“Cassi, let’s talk about this,” Chalice responded, putting her hands up.

“What’s there to talk about?” Cassidy growled at the gold chalice. “You all think I’m a burden somewhat. You all take advantage of me.” She tossed Natalie onto the floor, causing her to cough for air.

“We didn’t take advantage of you,” Canteen pointed out.

“Oh, I guess they’re developing your controlling ways, Natalie. You must have influenced them good,” Cassidy growled in disbelief.

“Cassi, it’s true,” Cuphead responded. “We never took advantage of you.”

“Yeah, Devil is lying about your memories. Cassi, please, listen to us,” Chalice replied, stepping closer to Cassidy. “We swear on our lives that we have never took advantage of you. Okay? In fact, when someone is callin’ ya a burden, we would defend you to the death.”

“That’s true,” Canteen agreed.

“Please, honey, snap out of this,” Mugman begged his girlfriend.

Cassidy blinked and her eyes went back to normal. She gasped to see Mugman again. “Mugman?” She looked down to see Natalie coughing out. Cuphead sped towards Natalie and carried her in his arms.

“I-I don’t know what I’m doing,” Cassidy uttered while shedding tears.

It was sudden that the orange glow in her veins took control of her again, causing her to scream.

Chalice gasped and looked back at Cuphead and Natalie. “Cups, take Natalie back to base. We’ll catch up.”

Cuphead shook his head. “Wait, then how are you guys gonna get through the room?”

“We’ll figure it out. Just go!” Chalice demanded.

Cuphead sighed and held Natalie close in a protective manner. Cuphead spread his fiery wings and flew away from the group.

Chalice turned into the ghost and zoomed inside of Cassidy to possess her.

“M-Mugman…take her…now!”

Mugman didn’t hesitate to spread his wings and flew into Cassidy, picking her up in his arms. He flew around towards the hall and picked Canteen up onto his back. Both Mugman and Canteen held their breaths and closed their eyes.

Mugman flew blindly through the gas chamber in the hall of mirrors before stumbling out.

While Mugman was trying to fly to the exit, Cassidy snapped her red eyes open and used telepathic forces to push Mugman and Canteen off of her. Mugman and Canteen flipped over her and tumbled onto the ground. Soon, Chalice was shoved out of Cassidy’s body.

Chalice’s body transformed into her physical form with a groan in pain.

As Chalice was standing up, Cassidy glared at her.

“You swore on your lives you hadn’t taken advantage of me…” Cassidy growled while forming a fireball in her hands. “I guess you really didn’t mean it.” She shot her fireball at Chalice.

Canteen noticed this and hurried towards Chalice. “CHALICE, LOOK OUT!!”

Before Chalice could have the time to react and dodge away from the fireball, Canteen shoved her out of the way. He took the hit and was slammed against the wall behind him. Chalice tumbled on the ground and looked up to see Canteen laying against the wall. He wasn’t breathing at the moment, causing her to rush by his side.

“Canteen!” Chalice cried and kneeled by his side. “Canteen! Wake up! Come on! Come on!”

Mugman saw this and looked up to see Cassidy ready to fire another fireball at Chalice. He clenched his teeth and jumped in between Chalice and Cassidy. He folded his wings to shield himself with electricity on his wings.

Chalice widened her eyes to watch him shield her and Canteen from another hit.

Mugman managed to throw the fireball away from him. He looked up at her with blue eyes. “Please, Cassi, I don’t want to fight you. Please…”

“You’re not so different after all,” Cassidy growled at Mugman.

Mugman softened his gaze and shook his head. “Cassi…don’t make me fight you.”

Cassidy charged towards Mugman, who shielded himself with his wings. She took his wing and threw him against the wall with a newfound strength.

Mugman dodged her next attack with her throwing rocks at him. “Cassi—please, stop.”

Cassidy kept throwing rocks at him, which made him irritated. He felt sparks coming out of his body. He flew towards her, his fingers locked with hers to hold back of her attacks.

“Honey, I’m serious. I don’t want to fight you,” Mugman snarled at Cassidy.

“Why not?” She growled and pinned him against the wall harshly.

“Cassi—”

She threw a punch on his cheek. “Tell me. Why don’t you want to fight me?”

“Because—”

She threw another punch against his face, worsening the sparks coming out of his body. “Because of what?!”

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!!!” Mugman screamed, the sparks coming out and pushing Cassidy back away from him.

Cassidy tumbled away from Mugman.

Mugman breathed heavily and saw her passed out on the floor. “C-Cassi?”

Chalice watched with shock while picking Canteen in her arms.

Before Mugman could come over to check on Cassidy, he felt a web on his back. He glanced behind and noticed Chalice and Canteen having the same thing. They were suddenly yanked up through the exit.

“CASSI!!! NO!!!”

~.~

As they were being pulled up, Mugman was struggling against the web. It was revealed that Charlie was the one who was pulling them up from Hell with the help of Esther and O’Fera.

“What were you bozos doin’ down there?!” Charlie scolded the kids.

“Canteen is hurt!” Chalice alerted the others while O’Fera pulled Canteen off of the web. She examined quickly before carrying him in her arms.

“We got to go back to base. Hurry!” O’Fera demanded.

“Wait, Cassi is still down there!” Mugman shouted while the others were sprinting back to base.

“We’ll come back for her later, sonny,” Esther reassured Mugman.

“No, we have to get her now!!” Mugman demanded while breaking through the web with his sparks, scaring Charlie.

When he was about to fly away and back to Hell to get to Cassidy, Esther used her lasso and roped him back to them.

“Hold on there, sonny!” Esther responded. “You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“We have to go back to base. Canteen is injured,” O’Fera responded to Mugman. “We have to make a proper plan to get in—”

“No, I can’t. I can’t wait. She was right there. I have to—I have to—” Mugman instantly fainted.

“Uh…what just happened?” Charlie uttered while they watched him tossed and turned, his eyes suddenly turning blue.

“I think he’s seeing visions…pick him up. Hurry,” O’Fera demanded.

Esther picked Mugman up and they all rushed back to base.

Once they returned to base, Cuphead and Natalie saw them.

Canteen was set on the table while Bulldog was working on his wounds to help him feel better. Mugman was placed on the bed by Esther, who was still tossing and turning until his eyes finally closed and stopped moving.

“Uh…guys…I think Mugman’s not moving,” Esther alerted the others.

O’Fera entered the room and checked for Mugman’s heartbeat. “He’s got a steady heartbeat. Mugman...can you hear me? Mugman?!”

Mugman fell into a deep sleep.

"Mugman! Mugman!!!"

Mugman gasped awake. Sitting up, he realized that he was in a field of green grass. He didn’t know why he fainted. What happened? Why couldn’t he wake up now? He got up and looked around to find a woman cup sitting by the full-grown willow tree, vines and leaves dangling around her to give her shade from the bright light. She had blonde hair covering her head when she was reading a book until she looked up to find Mugman approaching her.

He tilted his head and widened his eyes in recognition. “M-Ma?”

She smiled softly. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”

“W-What happened? Where am I?”

“You’re in someplace safe.”

“I-I can’t be here.”

“Why not?”

“Cassi…my girlfriend…she’s-she’s in trouble, Ma. I need to go back. I need to save her.”

“Why do you always feel the need to save people?”

Mugman blinked in confusion. “What?”

“Why do you always feel the need to save people? First, your brother. And now your girlfriend. Why do you always feel like you need to be the one to save people?”

“I don’t understand what you’re asking.”

His mother sat up straighter. “You told me that you need to save her. Why? What does that mean when you said that?”

Mugman seemed to be confused for a moment. “I-I don’t know. I mean, that I need to save her from Devil.”

“You need to save your brother from Devil too—”

“Because I can’t live without them, okay?” Mugman started to whimper, hugging himself. “I feel like I have to save them, because if I don’t…they…they’ll be dead. And it’ll be my fault. All of it is my fault.”

“Now, that’s not fair, is it?” His mother responded. “You’ve put too much blame on yourself for too long. You’ve put the responsibility of your brother’s life and your girlfriend’s life on your shoulders. You love them and you want to save them. But you can’t always save everyone you care about. Sometimes, things happen to some people and…you can’t always be the one to stop or save them.”

“But I’ve killed people, Ma! I’ve killed people while Tremaine was inside of me! I-I didn’t mean any of it. I can’t sleep without seeing Hunter. I had to make something up for all the damages I caused for everyone—”

His mother shook her head. “Mugman…you’re blaming yourself for something you couldn’t control at the time. The kills you’ve made were not intentional. Not the way I see it at least. But now that Tremaine is out of you, you are free from the shackles the chemical gave you. The damages you’ve caused were repaired already. You can’t keep blaming yourself like this. It’s not fair to blame yourself for something that you can’t control. You can’t control the outcome, Mugman. You can only control how you behave, act, and perceive the world.”

He rubbed his arm and lowered his gaze on the grass. “I want to save her.”

“I know, son. I know. You said you can’t sleep without dreaming of Hunter, right?”

“Y-Yeah.”

She put the book down and opened her arms.

Mugman tilted his head in confusion for a moment until he crawled into his mother’s arms. She cradled him and kept him close. Mugman suddenly felt warmth and comfort in his mother’s arms.

“You won’t dream of Hunter here,” she said softly.

“But I need to save her—”

“Shh, I know. I know. But if you want to save her, you can’t do it with bags under your eyes. I’ve noticed you haven’t been getting sleep.”

Mugman started to get drowsy, laying against his mother’s chest.

“And Mugman—.”

Mugman perked his head up slightly.

“—You don’t always have to do things alone. Sometimes you will need help from others. And sometimes, the best outcome happens when others are helping out.”

Mugman nodded his head with a hum and fell asleep on what he thought was his mother’s chest. The white robed figure held onto Mugman’s small body gently. His face was covered by a bright light. He looked out into the field while holding Mugman close to him like a protective parent.

To Be Continued...

#cuphead #mugman #ocs x canons #ms chalice #canteen hughes #charlie left legs #esther winchester #the howling aces cuphead #the devil cuphead #cuphead henchman #cuphead stickler #king dice #porkrind #cuphead: isle of memories rewrite #oc villain #oc parents #tw body horror #tw blood #angel and demon

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christmasintheloonybin · 4 months ago

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if anything I think that Trump will win only because he has swag and people like him. it was the same with Obama, you put someone who seems at ease with himself and confident in his decisions against someone who isn't and it's no mystery why people vote for them. even if they are actually incompetent or will make bad choices, or will keep things the same when people want something different. presidents are just celebrities for most people, voting is like a popularity contest. omg Ariana Grande or Billy Eilish who is the best singer? this is what they should give to regular people instead of letting them have any kind of say in any political matters.

was talking about this with my brother, if Jeb Bush had gone against Hilary Clinton there is no doubt that Clinton would win. because they both lack any kind of je ne se qoui you know whatever draws people to people. but who knows actually because even then I think a significant part of her supporters were just anti-Trump. so who knows. honestly in retrospect I'm glad that Trump won, can you imagine how many more wars America would have gotten into if we had another Bush or Clinton as president? i don't trust these people. I don't like Trump's policies and views on things but I definitely do instinctively like and trust him more than I do regular politicians. and it's the same with Bernie Sanders, I think if he was allowed to run in 2016 (and covered and represented fairly by the media) he would have mopped the floor with everyone because he is passionate and likable, like Trump. people are drawn to him because of the way he is not even because he says this or that they instinctively trust him and love him and want him to be the leader.

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writer59january13 · 6 months ago

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Omnipresent lurch toward authoritarianism...

The views and opinions herewith extemporized to spur discourse with me, or to be mindful when exercising the right to vote in the country of your existence, which expressed intimation predicated upon read reliable publications such as Mother Jones, Smithsonian Magazine, The Nation, The Week, and TIME Magazine, which trustworthy and reputable sources of information brought to the fore of me noggin an alarming concern for those who consider themselves liberal Democrats, Libertarians and even moderate Republicans aware of avast conglomeration of bullies hell bent on usurping power upon self aggrandizement, or exploitative foreign policy necessitating the need for courageous actions witnessing demagogic control over the inalienable rights inherent in all species to thrive to the limits of their potential unviolated, unmolested, and unharmed.

Omnipresent lurch toward authoritarianism...

not only self evident across these United States of America, but also prophetic throughout the developed nations of the webbed wide world threatens progressive states' rights linkedin to the former - purported best western country potentially upending hard fought freedoms of nascent life, liberty

and the pursuit of happiness manifesting invisible hand, where secular humanism throve against patriarchal churchly dictates early in American history, where radicals of the day destined to stamp out blind faith courtesy antithetical, heretical, and parenthetical () proud zealots awash with indignation

(causing more than indigestion) against analogous strait jacket inhibiting once noble savage, whose inchoate acquisition of cognition, and subsequent recognition, where donned liberals of the day trumpeted sedition visa vis fancying, discovering, and broadcasting idea promoting innovative socially mediated shutter flying,

twittering, tick tocking contract where biblical ethos did captcha

cannibalistic, fatalistic, immoralistic fifty bajillion shades of gray matter as eminent domain established Judeo-Christian paradigm across then global realm, which mindset promulgated hegemony quashing nativist bred beliefs violently lashing, teeth gnashing,

saber flashing clashing, et cetera

with awakening enlightenment Yes (Blue Oyster Cult)

initially fomented Mötley Crüe dead set upon imposing might as right stifling pockets of

surprisingly strong resistance fostering eventual seeds of dissent countless times sparking renegade to spill figurative beans

to iron maiden adversary

fielding winning outcome

to totalitarian potentate,

nevertheless intermittent feeble mutiny arose

quickly jump/kick starting disguised claque

to depose the loathsome enemy intent to extinguish belligerent autocrat,

who forcefully usurped dominance

slaying population of primitive peoples

brutally forcing young

abducted fecund females

to beget progeny populating domain

courtesy nasty, ruthless vainglorious warlords

wreaking mayhem and bedlam

in an angry bird like effort

to create opportunistic scenario

for successful invasion

of the body snatchers, particularly at the helm

guiding analogous ship of state

one oafish outsize, and portly

self proclaimed führer of sought after reich ideally bloviated, inerbriated, and venerated

over stuffed ego freezer

donning his spiffy, haughty, doughy body sporting noggin atop which sits

trademark hirsute orange mop top inciting the capital one furious mob

(poised and pregnant

metaphorically like tightly coiled tension

able, eager, ready, and willing

just impatiently waiting proper cue to strike

like stormy Daniels) at the mercy of their commander

leading his ragtag army in battle imagine dragons bellowing fiery ejaculations

where amidst the pandemonium

militaristic troops unwittingly hold entire country hostage at gunpoint

no exit (stage door left)

nor escape for any unfortunate

soon to become prisoner

seeking soul asylum, an impossible mission (even for one as adept as Peter Graves)

caught in the figurative and literal maws

of long planned coup d'état fascistic die hard armed force encircling the seat of government

miles beyond the outer limits

of the concertina wired zone,

where dark shadows

hover signalling a severe thunderous storm

analogous to perpetual edge of night obscuring the sheltering sky

depicting deafening soundcloud and the final gasping exhalations of chastened democracy.

0 notes

snakegirllovehandles · 2 years ago

Note

Let me guess, you think three black lives matter movement is also filled with "Russian chaos agents" dedicated to promoting their evil communist ideas like "racism is bad" and "the police should be abolished" lmao. Annoying liberals like you are all the same.

No. You misapprehend me. I don't think any of those things, and am repulsed by the accusation (congratulations, you're my first real hatemail).

I admit I didn't make a clear distinction between "russain potstirring propaganda in the 2016 election" and "pro-russain propaganda in relation to the crime against humanity that is the russain invasion of ukraine" but in my defense it was literally 4 am in my timezone and I was beyond tired. Needless to say, I am and make it known that I am against the invasion. I don't know what I can really do about it though, because I'm just some girl who lives in california.

I'm not a liberal either. I vote for the most left candidate and I've never missed an election. I voted for sanders in both primaries (and also Mop). My senator is motherfucking feinstein. Besides sending her and my representative periodic emails (yay form responses) there's not a lot I can do about injustices.

#I wish I had the guts to go to anti police protests but I am visibly trans and afraid for my own safety

0 notes

fiddlepickdouglas · 4 years ago

Text

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 1 - Ribbit

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, THE meetcute of meetcutes. 2.1k

Edit: thank you so much @trevor-wilson-covington for the pretty edit!! I'm in love with it!

Alex drummed his fingers on the armrest of his seat in the van. The drive from Los Angeles to Vegas was just short of four hours, but it had been an early morning and it was going to be a long day. He was feeling the carsickness sit just under the threshold of dangerous and rolled down the window.

“Whoo! Twenty miles boys!” Luke called out as they passed a sign on the freeway, clapping Bobby on the shoulder from behind.

“Woohoo!” Bobby responded in excitement.

“Think you’re gonna make it, buddy?” Reggie looked over at Alex. Alex turned only a fraction of the way toward his friend and gave a half-hearted nod.

“Hey man, let us know if we gotta pull over,” Luke said.

He simply nodded. Next time he wasn’t going to sit in the back.

The other three were jamming to whatever Luke was riffing on his guitar. Bobby thankfully drove at a slower pace as they approached the final stretch toward their destination. The ache in his stomach didn’t get better, but it also didn’t get worse so he was banking on it calming down once they stopped.

“Hey, guys, we wanna stop somewhere and get breakfast first?” Bobby called out to the rest of them.

“Oh yeah!” Reggie said. “I think I could go for some pancakes.”

“Oh, pancakes sound real good right now.” Luke echoed.

“Alex?” Bobby peeked into the rearview mirror at him.

Looking up from the view outside, he just shrugged. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t sure he could handle food no matter what it was.

Eventually they pulled off the freeway and kept their eyes peeled for an open restaurant.

“I see pancakes!” Reggie cried, pointing at his target.

“They’ve got an arcade next door, I second that vote!” Bobby said.

As they parked and clambered out of the van, the boys stretched and shook their limbs. They entered the diner and found a booth, practically collapsing together on the table. Alex placed his face in his hands and tried taking in deep breaths to calm his stomach. A sudden voice was heard beside the table.

“Good morning starshines, the earth says hello! How are we doing today?” Sounded like a waiter. Alex felt rude, but didn’t bother to look up. He felt Luke nudge a menu under his elbow.

“Oh, we’re hungry!” Reggie responded.

“Awesome, guys,” the waiter said. “Anything I can get started for you?”

“We’ll go with water,” Luke spoke for everyone at the table. “And, sorry about him, he’s not feeling good.” Alex assumed this was about him and sighed.

“Okay, so water for everybody? Alright, I’ll just grab those for you while you prepare your orders.”

As the waiter left, Luke tapped Alex’s shoulder.

“How you doin’, Alex?”

“Not blowing chunks, I guess,” he groaned.

“Hey, guys,” Bobby started saying. “How about we pick what we wanna eat, and then I want to check out the arcade while we wait for our food.”

“That’s a good idea,” Reggie said, perking up. “I hope they have Galaga.”

“I’m down,” Luke said. “Alex, you wanna wait here for us? You can give the guy our orders and then just chill.”

“Maybe that stomach will settle down,” Reggie added.

Alex lowered his hands and rested them on the table.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I need the space anyway. Thanks.”

“Cool,” Luke hopped up from his seat. “Uh, I’ll just do the buttermilk pancakes.”

“Make that two buttermilk pancakes!” Reggie said, holding up his fingers.

“Eggs and sausage,” Bobby told him. “And buttermilk pancakes.” He patted Alex on the back as the three of them ventured next door.

At least they were easy to remember. Alex looked around the restaurant as he kept breathing in and out slowly. He was the only person there. That was surprising for a diner just outside of Vegas around ten in the morning. He didn’t mind the quiet, though. Having all this space to himself was already helping him feel better.

A guy with long dark hair approached him with a tray carrying glasses of water. Alex gulped as he watched, his breath catching in his throat. He took in the tie-dye shirt, the ripped jeans, and puka shell necklace and guessed he was probably from California as well.

“Whoa, where’d they all go?” the waiter asked, smiling a little in confusion.

Alex blinked.

“They, uh, they went to the arcade,” he managed to get out. He couldn’t help it, this guy had a nice smile.

“Ah,” the guy raised his eyebrows and began placing the water on the table. “And they left you behind? That sucks.”

“I’m okay,” Alex said. “We’ve just been on the road for a bit and I got kinda carsick, so I needed some space anyway.”

“I’m sorry, man,” the waiter said. “Did they decide what to eat before they bailed?”

“Uh, yeah,” Alex shifted to face him better. “They all want buttermilk pancakes and then one guy also wants eggs and sausage.”

“Three buttermilks…” the guy muttered as he wrote them down. “Eggs and sausage. And do you know what you want?”

He looked directly into Alex’s eyes as he rested the tray under his arm and it took everything Alex had not to melt right there. Don’t look at his lips, he thought. He was pretty sure his eyes had betrayed him but he forced his gaze downward as a cover.

“I’m sorry,” he said, flustered. “I actually forgot to look at the menu.”

“Right, ‘cuz you were carsick, sorry” the waiter chuckled, running a hand through his hair. Alex bit his tongue.

“I should probably get some food still,” he managed to say. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

“Right on. I could recommend some toast - that’s always easy on the stomach. That comes with eggs, and I could add in some banana for you.”

“That actually sounds great,” Alex told him. “I’ll just do that, then.”

The waiter smiled and bit his lip.

“‘Kay!” He lifted the tray from under his arm and headed back toward the kitchen, doing a little skip before disappearing inside.

Alex felt his hands shaking and he sat on them for a minute. Looking around the empty diner, a thought occurred that somehow with just him and the waiter it had seemed full. The strange feeling crept all over him, like a new exhilarating energy, and he moved his hands back up. The waiter popped back out of the kitchen and came back toward Alex in a cavalier fashion.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked. “I don’t exactly have other people to help and I feel bad leaving you all by yourself in here.”

“Make yourself at home,” Alex said, gesturing to the seat across from him. Make yourself at home? What is that? he berated himself.

The guy extended a hand for him to shake. “I’m Willie, by the way.”

“Alex.” As he took it, Alex returned the firm grip he received and they both chuckled a bit at noticing each other’s strength. Willie sat down and immediately grabbed a napkin from the dispenser.

“So you said you and your friends have a long day ahead of you?” he asked.

“Oh right,” Alex couldn’t believe he had forgotten about the guys for a minute. “We’re a band, so we’ve got a gig opening for Julie Molina tonight.”

“Wicked,” Willie smiled and nodded, folding the napkin into something Alex wasn’t sure what it was supposed to be. “Who’s Julie Molina?”

“Oh, she’s just a good solo artist - does a little bit of everything. My buddy Luke is really into her.”

Willie nodded some more, continuing to fold the napkin.

“And who are you guys?”

“We’re Sunset Curve,” Alex said. “I’m the drummer.”

“Right on! You guys just becoming a thing?” Willie raised his eyebrows.

“I mean, I guess so,” Alex hadn’t exactly thought about it. “Opening for Julie is a big step for us.”

He watched Willie’s hands work until he finished. It turned out to be an origami frog.

“Ribbit,” Willie said, pressing on the top to make it look like it was moving. The napkin material didn’t exactly lend to bouncing up and down, which made them both giggle. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be distracting.”

“I don’t mind,” Alex said. “It’s entertaining.”

He realized how widely he was smiling and laughed to himself.

“What about you?” he asked.

Willie straightened his posture and ran a hand through his hair again. He flailed his arms and blew out his cheeks before holding one arm with the other and leaning on the table.

“Making it on my own for now. I just do whatever feels good, you know? Make a few bucks, get out and enjoy what I find. Don’t need a whole lot to be happy.”

Wow, Alex wanted that kind of chill. He picked up the origami frog.

“What do you do when you’re not here? Besides these, of course.”

Willie shrugged.

“Skate. Be free.” He smiled, but sighed heavily. Alex saw a distant look in his eyes, but knew now wasn’t a time to address it. “I see Vegas in all its glory. You should see the lights at night.”

“Won’t I see them tonight?”

Willie shook his head.

“Not the right way,” he told him. “Not at the right angle. I would show you, but you’ve got your gig and everything.”

Alex opened his mouth to reply, but a head stuck out of the kitchen door. A man with dark hair and chiseled features looked at Willie and all he did was glare authoritatively.

“I’m - coming,” Willie stammered, rising from his seat.

Alex realized his mouth was still open and he shut it, unhappily swallowing what he’d wanted to say.

“That was my boss,” Willie said, already in a hurry. “I’m sorry, I’ll be back when your food’s ready.” He rushed off and the diner felt empty and cold again.

As if on cue, Luke, Bobby and Reggie burst back through the door. Luke and Reggie were celebrating while Bobby seemed a little less enthusiastic.

“Dun-geon slay-er!” Reggie proclaimed in a mock deep voice. “Too bad we can’t stay longer and go for that tournament today; I would have whooped everyone.”

They all sat and immediately gulped down their waters. Bobby remained quiet.

“How was the arcade?” Alex asked.

“It was sweet,” Luke reported. “Bobby’s mad because Reggie mopped the floor with him.”

“The joystick wasn’t working right, it wasn’t a fair outcome,” Bobby defended.

“Oooohhh,” Reggie made a silly face and wiggled his fingers. “Bobby only loses when the game doesn’t work, ooohhh!”

Alex shook his head and laughed mildly. He only noticed then that his stomach had stopped bothering him completely. He hadn’t even felt it when he’d been talking with Willie. He finished his own water, and was happy not to feel anything as it went down. The origami frog was still on the table.

“Hey, Alex,” Reggie said, picking it up. “Did you make this?”

“Oh, no, Willie did,” he told him.

“Who’s Willie?” Luke asked.

Speak of the devil - the kitchen door opened and Willie came out carrying their plates.

“Alright, we got pancakes, pancakes, more pancakes,” he said, placing them where they belonged. He glanced at Alex quickly, but it was too quick to read. “Who had the eggs and sausage?”

“That was me,” Bobby said, raising his hand.

“Okay,” Willie passed it over to him. “And toast and eggs with a banana.” He smiled as he set it down before Alex. “And it looks like you all need more water, I’ll be right back!” He was gone too quickly again.

The change in his mood unsettled Alex, but maybe it was because Willie was working. As he saw Willie returning with the water pitcher he had an idea.

“Hey Luke,” he said. Luke turned to him expectantly as Willie silently poured water in their glasses.

“Where are we playing again?”

Luke looked confused. Willie was listening intently.

“The Pearl, why? How could you forget?”

“And what time do we play?”

“Eight o’ clock. You sure you’re feeling better?”

“Yeah. I was… I was just testing you, cuz sometimes you don’t remember.”

Luke looked around the table defensively.

Reggie shrugged. “He’s right. But you remembered this time!”

Alex felt bad about starting Luke in an argument as he listened to them continue, but he knew it would blow over quickly. He caught Willie looking back at him and nodding as he walked away. As he returned to his food, Bobby smirked at him and shook his head. Heat rose in his cheeks and he focused on his toast.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #fanfic #jatp fanfic #willex #alive au #alex mercer #willie #luke patterson #reggie peters #bobby wilson #julie molina #viva las vegas #ribbit #fiddlepickdouglas #meetcute

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weshallc · 3 years ago

Text

Crown Jewels Stoppy Back.

Just a bit of fun. It had to be done.

@roguesnitch @lovetheturners @fourteen-teacups @levinson-mannion @h4t08

I changed the name of the confectionary to protect the guilty and for international readers.

“Right,'' said Paddy.

"Pumps all functioning or on-line, optics all full, fridges fit to bursting, tables clean so you could see your reflection in them. Sanitizer full at the door and in the bogs and on tables. Boxes of surgical masks at the door and bar."

Everyone nodded. Jack added, but was ignored, “I sorted out the rigging too, captain."

Paddy turned to his right-hand person. “All set to go then, first mate?”

It was a weak joke, especially coming off the back of Jack’s lame attempt.

Val smiled and added an equally weak, “Aye, Aye Captain.”

Paddy, wasn’t convinced.

Whatever happened in Poplar-on-Tweaven, Val was a constant.

Whether it was the love of his life Bernie, being conflicted between her love for him or the mission. PC Noakes deciding if his life in the constabulary mattered more than his love for his superior. Trixie being Trixie. Or the youth minister, Tom, understanding after gentle guidance from Rev Julia, Bernie and his wife Bobbie that life is complicated but love is so much more simple.

Val, however, was uncomplicated.

Once, the early drinkers had gone to have a kip so they could be back by noon. The pram and pushchair brigade had vacated before winking at Paddy or over ambitiously pinching his bum. He asked.

“What’s up, Val?”

Val, mopping up baby puke from the back of a chair, confessed,

“Someone stole my M&M's”

Paddy, had prepared himself for a dating swipe that had maybe gone a bit too far. He was ready to respond with statements such as, “You are too good for him.” Or even more limp, “We all make mistakes.”

But was subsequently stunned into silence.

“My groceries get delivered every Tuesday. I leave the last week's boxes out for collection.”

Paddy felt Val clam up. He nodded for her to continue.

“Because I appreciate people who are only paid the minimum wage.”

Paddy was sure Amelia Pankhurst with her 'votes for women' banner abreast, and Boadicea in her chariot would march through the Crown doors in any second.

Val continued, “So, I leave a ‘wee treat’ as your misuses would say for the delivery man.”

Paddy was well aware his “missus” had died a few years ago and the “missus” everyone was referring too, including Val, was the fiery Scottish redhead, vicar’s daughter, ex-missionary, care manager and the best thing that had ever entered his tired old pub, Bernie. But he knew if he focused on her, Val would have moved on.

He went to touch her hand to encourage her to continue, then remembered it was Val. It wasn’t how they rolled.

“If you could bang on with this story, I have a milk stout that’s curdling, while we are waiting.”

Val looked up, bright eyed for the first time that morning. They exchanged the briefest of glances and no more needed to be said.

“Someone stole the M&Ms you left out for your delivery man?” Paddy clarified,

Val nodded,

“Good job we know people then, isn’t it?” Paddy winked.

#call the midwife #crown jewels #paddy and benie #val and paddy #ihave no idea where this is going #al was robbed

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scarlett-hamiltonf1 · 4 years ago

Text

The Prancing Horse

*This is my story on Wattpad and I thought I would bring it on here as well! My account is parisrockefeller and The Prancing Horse has 17k reads so far!*

Short: She's a princess of a small country. He's a formula one driver from that country. What happens when they meet or have they already met only to grow apart during a tragedy that shook their worlds.

Chapter 1

My name is simply Scarlett Rossi. If you want what the world calls me, then it's Her Royal Highness, Princess Scarlett Rossi of Monaco. Trust me, I hate the title, but it is my duty to accept whatever may come with it. My life has always been one of leisure, but with some challenges.

Our family has been struck by tragedy, one too many times. A very close family friend who was like a brother to me was killed in a race in 2014 when I was 15, now in 2019 it still haunts me. Soon after that my older brother was killed in a jumping accident, his horse fell on top of him and his spinal cord was crushed. This happened about a month after. It broke my mom's heart, I mean literally one day she had a heart attack, and a few days later she passed away.

That was three family deaths in a matter of months. Now it's just my father and I, with the weight of a whole country on our shoulders. Not that we don't have other family members to help, but we are the ringleaders in our circus.

After 2015 ended I came out as a new person, as the media says. I use to be so bright and bubbly, I turned shy and kept to myself. It is true though. Anyway today I have to do something I haven't done in years. I am going to visit my best friend at the Monaco Grand Prix and watch him race. After I present the winners with their trophies and photos. This year we are hosting a champions ball at the palace after the race for charity, so it should be fun!

I heard my alarm go off and hopped out of the shower. I quickly dried off and did make-up and hair while deciding what I was going to wear. I settled on the white high top converse, white ripped jeans, and a Mercedes t-shirt on.

"Ok," I said to myself as I walked down the back staircase of the palace and to the motor court. Romeo, my PA stood there by the black land rover with a smile on his face,

"Ready ma'am?" he asked holding out my Ferrari ray-bans.

I took them, "Duty before self." I said sliding into the passenger seat.

We listened to music and sang at the top of our lungs. Romeo has grown up with the family and is a Baron, but he decided to work for me since we were practically family. I looked at my reflection in the mirror, my straight jet black hair in a high ponytail framing my light brown skin and accenting my honey-colored eyes. My freckles around my nose seemed to tie up the whole princess look, which the media loved.

We soon arrived at the grounds and Romeo let me out as Media came trying to get pictures of me as I made my way back to the paddocks.

"Scarlett!" a British voice called and I jumped. I saw the face of my closest friend smiling at me.

"Lewis Hamilton, what did I say about scaring the poor girl?" Toto Wolff said smiling to give me a hug as well. Lewis wrapped me in a warm hug, "I'm proud you came today." he whispered and I nodded. We talked for a while till I heard fighting, "Romeo if you don't let me in, I will run you over with my car!" an Aussie yelled.

"Honey!" I called.

"Badger." I heard in return and then footsteps. All of the sudden a mop of curly hair was in my face and I was getting twirled around. "Daniel Riccardo! Put me down!" I exclaimed through laughter and he obliged.

"What are you doing here!" he exclaimed.

"Oh well you know..." I trailed off when I realized if Daniel knew I was here everyone did. "He knows?" I asked softly and they all nodded.

"How about I take you, but on the way, we stop at my garage and you can meet the Dutch Devil," Daniel smirked.

"You are not setting me up with boys." I groaned as Daniel dragged me to through the pit lane. When we reached his garage everyone took off their hats and stopped work, to respect the crown. "Oh please none of that." I said quickly and they all smiled. "like what you've done around here Horner!" I called to him as he came around.

He smirked "Redbull is doing pretty good!" he exclaimed.

"Just not good enough to beat my teams." I poked fun at him.

"Touche Princess touche," he said and went back to work.

"Max!" Daniel called and I saw a head of blonde hair and crystal blue eyes poke out from behind a door.

"What's up?" he called jogging up in his suit that was halfway on, when his eyes landed on me they widened. "Your Royal Highness," he said softly taking my hand and kissing it.

"I forgot people who don't know you do that," Daniel muttered.

"Daniel here did not lie about you Princess, you are exquisite," he smirked.

A slight blush appeared on my cheeks, "Thank you Max, but please do call me Scarlett. Any friend of Daniel's is a friend of mine." I replied.

"Well as much as I would like you two to fall in love, we have to run along to Ferrari," Daniel explained dragging me away after I said goodbye. We walked in silence just taking in the race atmosphere. Soon we reached the dreaded garage, but the media was loving it.

"Sebastian?" I whispered and he was by us in seconds.

"What are you doing here," he whispered.

"I have to represent the Crown," I explained.

He nodded, "Well it's good to see you Rose." he said giving me a quick hug just as yelling could be heard.

"How dare she show up! The Princess of fucking Monaco! SEBASTIAN! Why the fuck does this have to happen and especially in my home country." a voice yelled and I flinched as heavy footsteps were heard coming toward us. Sebastian and Daniel stood in front of me, but I marched up in front of them.

"If only he could hear you now, swearing at me up and down," I whispered.

"Speak up I can't fucking hear you Princess!" he yelled.

"You need to let whatever unfinished business you have, go," I said softly and he got in my face.

"How can I let it go when you remind me of him every day you live and breath." he spat staring into my eyes.

"You tell me..." I said and whispered his name. "Charles."

*I only own Scarlett, Romeo, and other characters made up by me.

*Don't forget to comment and vote!!! Let me know what you think!

#f1 #formula one #charles lecrelc #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton #lando norris #lando norris x reader #twitch quartet #daniel ricciardo #valterri bottas #sebastian vettel #kimi raikkonen #carlos sainz junior #alex albon #george russell

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gohyuck · 4 years ago

Text

concept: vietnam veteran!jeno lee x bartender!reader

warning: if i ever write this you can bet it will be pretty critical of the war, and will likely include mentions of ptsd, alcoholism, maybe smut? but maybe not, etc.

note: jeno being korean is definitely capitalized upon here for story-related reasons, but this does not mean anything about the reader’s race or ethnicity or anything. if i end up writing this fic it’ll take a ton of research, too (source: i read like 5 articles alone for this short blurb, from korean immigration to the u.s. to popular vodka in the 70s)

the year is 1973. it is january 27th, 1973, and you’re in southern texas bartending when president nixon announces that he has signed the paris peace accords. the u.s. is pretty much officially out of the war. you throw a washcloth over your shoulder and put away newly scrubbed out shot-glasses as the elated disk jockey stumbles over his words while speaking. he’s old. there are few young men on the radio. there are few young men anywhere. the boys are coming home, the aged voice crackles over the radio.

the shot glass in your hand slips, centimeters away from the shelf. it shatters. you’ll have to get the dustpan. there’s a new gash across your big toe, bleeding bright red. you need to start wearing tennis shoes on the job. you reach over and turn off the radio. the boys never should have had to leave.

that night, you serve more cheering, excited, hopeful people than you have served in a long, long time. shouts of ‘more’, cries of ‘he’s coming back, he’s coming home!’ permeate the air around you. it’s nauseating. it’s so nauseating. you spend the next morning mopping up other people’s puke from the establishment corners. you spend the next night bent over the toilet in your cramped apartment yourself.

the year is 1975. it is april 23rd, 1975, and you’re still in southern texas bartending, mostly because you have no way to leave the state. if you have to be in texas, it’ll always be austin. besides, you’ve gotten used to the steady stream of regulars that pass through, with the occasional new face that never returns. tourists. you love and hate them. some have stories to tell, and those are the good ones. some expect stories from you, and you can’t stand people like that. it’s no matter, though, not on april 23rd, 1975. you don’t meet any tourists then.

you meet him. and he’s peculiar, right off the bat.

you know he isn’t new in town - that much is obvious - but he isn’t quite used to what austin is becoming, either. a vet. has to be. you’ve served vets before, of course you have, but something about this one...

he’s so damn young. can’t be over a few years older than you are, if that. you shouldn’t be surprised, of course you shouldn’t: you’d done your fair share of protesting back in ‘68, tagging alongside your older cousins as they’d marched, screaming at the top of their lungs about being old enough to die but not old enough to vote. you must have been in middle school, then. they sent the boys off to die anyways.

he comes in midday, right after the lunch break locals have left. the place is almost empty, and your feet are absolutely aching from the recent rush, but he looks just a little lost (and you’d be one hell of a liar if you don’t admit that you quite like the way he looks) and, before you know it, you’re calling him over from the front door.

“sit up here at the bar, sir,” you give him the best customer service smile you can muster. “it’s the best way to experience good old southern hospitality.”

he says nothing, only lets his eyes bore into yours. after a moment too long, he nods slowly, shucking his light jacket off and leaving it on the coat rack at the entrance. his black hair is getting just a little long, covering his eyes almost entirely, and you realize that he probably hasn’t had a haircut in a while. his steps to the bar are slow, deliberate, but you don’t mind waiting for him.

“just vodka,” he says, voice soft and lilting and very, very slightly accented. it’s low, deep and likely once full of life, but he’s reserved now. subdued. it might be because of the fact that, by now, it’s only the two of you left in the joint. “two shots.”

“a name? for the tab or for payment.” you ask, though you really don’t need to. not now, anyways. he’s just gotten here. still, you don’t know how drunk he’s going to get, so maybe it’s best that you ask now, and not later. you ignore the fact that you’re only asking simply because you want to know.

“jeno lee.” his response is curt, emotionless. his dark eyes meet yours again. he’s korean, and you have to admit that you don’t meet very many korean people in your part of the world. the immigration act had only been enacted back in ‘65, and, even then, most people traveling in ended up in california or new york. not texas. never texas. explains the accent, too. not a hint of texan in it.

you grab two shot glasses from behind you with one hand, procuring a bottle of wolfschmidt in the other. mr. jeno lee offers you the tiniest hint of a smile once you’re done pouring, and that’s that. before you can ask him anything else - though you don’t know if he even wants you to do so - a regular walks in through the door, and you busy yourself with finding the whiskey she likes.

once you’ve served her, you turn around to ask your intriguing new customer if he’d like anything else, water perhaps, only to find two empty glasses and a few crumpled up dollar bills on the counter. there’s a nickel in the otherwise empty tip jar. there are no other traces of the quiet, handsome stranger, and you can’t help but feel as if you’ll never see him again. you aren’t quite sure why the thought fills you with an unexplainable sadness.

it’s no matter. you push it aside. you don’t know him, and he doesn’t know you. hell, he doesn’t even know your name. by the time the after dinner rush hits and all the men come in from the nearby strip clubs, you’re already over jeno lee and the great big nothing you know of him. you wipe down the counters, mop and dust the floors as needed, clean the glasses, greet the bartender who has the shift after yours, and finally get off your goddamn feet once you get home. you don’t think of him once. out of sight, out of mind.

that’s why it’s so much more shocking when he comes in at the exact same time on april 24th, 1975, and orders the exact same thing.

explaining the concepts tag: these are ideas i’ve had that i’m considering turning into fics! i post them under concepts to get y’alls opinions. let me know if you want to see this as a fic someday!

#first #five #tags #might not #work #jeno #jeno lee #jeno x reader #conceps #jeno scenario #jeno scenarios #jeno angst #jeno fluff #jeno smut #nct dream #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff #nct dream smut #thats all folks ig

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i-wish-we-were-jedi · 3 years ago

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The Day Wilbur Broke

I wrote this out in a comment section weeks ago and finally went through and novelized it. I'm not doing the whole smp storyline, but this is one of my favorite scenes in the entirity of the SMP, and I was hit in the face with a blast of inspiration as I was supposed to be doing my theology homework. Anyway, I hope you like it :)

***SPOILERS FOR DREAM SMP ELECTION ARC***

The last rays of sunlight faded as Schlatt descended from the podium to the sound of applause. The crowd below him began to chant, and though Tommy knew that half of them didn’t mean it, that most of them were as skeptical of the drunken president as he was, they were still loud enough to shake the ground. A singular word – a name that rang over and over in Wilbur and Tommy's ears from where they sat, cloaked in the shadows at the top of a nearby tower. Manberg. Manberg. Manberg.

Tommy's fist tightened around his bow as Schlatt stumbled out of view of the crowd, held up by Quackity and Tubbo. His fingers itched to pull back the arrow and embed it right between the president’s shoulder-blades. But Tubbo was standing too close now. And then Schlatt was gone, out of view, and the sun was below the horizon. The day was over. And something more than that…

Manberg. Manberg. Manberg.

“Tommy.” Wilbur’s voice was empty as he placed a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, pulling him out of his daze. “Let’s go.”

Tommy let Wil lead the way back down the ladder in silence. He would have been seething if he weren’t so confused. He’d had his arrow aimed directly at Schlatt. All it would’ve taken was one motion! Just one, and it would all be over! Why had Wilbur called it off? Why had he stopped him? He thought about asking, but Wil’s expression was unreadable, in a way that Tommy had never seen before. There was something dark and twisted growing in Wil’s eyes beneath that mop of hair. So Tommy kept quiet, waiting for Wil to speak. Then he’d ask why Schlatt wasn’t dead right now.

Tommy never once thought to ask why he’d listened to Wilbur…because it was Wilbur. He always listened to Wilbur.

They reached the ground floor and Tommy could still feel the chants of the crowd shaking the ground beneath his feet. And though his face was turned away, Tommy knew Wilbur could hear it too.

“Tommy…”

“Wilbur, I could’ve taken my shot,” Tommy said, feeling the anger and confusion in his voice as he stared at Wil’s back.

“Tommy, no. It’s not…it’s…” Wil stammered before finally trailing off into a sigh. Tommy didn’t try to continue. It was all too much.

The two of them stepped out of the tower and stood out under the open sky, the night wind ruffling their hair. They should’ve been celebrating a victory right now. Raising the L’Manburg flag and destroying the obsidian monstrosity that had replaced it. But instead…

Manberg. Manberg. Manberg.

In the East, the edge of the moon shone like silver over the trees. The night would be bright one, and no darkness meant they’d be easy to follow. The trek back to Pogtopia would be a dangerous one. The two of them began to run. They didn’t stop until all they could hear was the night noises around them, and the ground beneath their feet was still.

They walked now, Tommy still holding his bow. Wilbur’s empty hands were shoved deep into his pockets.

“Killing Schlatt wouldn’t do anything,” Wil finally said as they reached the edge of the pine forest. “Killing Schlatt…it wouldn’t fix a single thing. Cause then Quackity would just become president, and who knows if that would be worse. And then we kill Quackity and George would be president. This,” He gestured to the bow in Tommy’s white-knuckled hand. “It means nothing, Tommy. It means nothing. It wouldn’t have mattered if you killed him or not.”

They walked for a little while longer in silence. Tommy was itching to talk more, to ask Wilbur more questions, to understand what he was getting at. But something held him back – not what Wilbur had said, because he was right, of course. As usual. It was how he’d said it. This wasn’t the voice of a man admitting defeat. Wilbur hadn’t lost his confident stride or the charisma with which he held his shoulders. If anything there was a new degree of defiance to it. Along with an unsettling air of curiosity, like a mad scientist testing a theory. Inquisitive, and with far too little in the way of caution.

“Tommy, I have a question for you,” Wil finally spoke as they crossed a pond. “Schlatt’s festival…it’s a good idea, isn’t it? It doesn’t seem bad. It seems like a nice, friendly thing that he’s doing.”

“Yeah,” Tommy said, though didn’t think so. With Schlatt there was always something else going on, whether you could see it or not. He took joy in destroying or re-forming the things they had made, and then flaunting it in their face to taunt them.

Wilbur stopped at the foot of a hill and turned back to look up at his brother. “Tommy, are we the bad guys?”

The question nearly knocked Tommy over. He stared down at Wilbur’s brown eyes, black in the light of the still-rising moon, unsure how to answer.

“I mean, we just kind of made ourselves the leaders,” Wil continued. “But then we had a vote and he won. It was completely legal. And now we’re trying to overthrow him. I…” He sighed. “It feels like we’re the bad guys, Tommy. This doesn’t feel…correct.”

Wilbur turned to face the lake at the bottom of the hill, and Tommy descended to stand next to him. Wil’s face was slack as he stared at the water. Near the opposite bank, ripples spread from a spot where a fish briefly surfaced before disappearing again.

“Tommy, am I…am I a bad…” Wilbur trailed off, then turned and faced Tommy head-on. “Am I a villain? Am I the villain in this story?”

Tommy’s mouth was agape as he tried to process what Wil was asking him. Wil wasn’t wrong about the things they’d done. Schlatt had taken power legally. Unexpectedly, unconventionally, yes. But legally. Yet here they were, trying to overthrow him. They’d betrayed friends, committed espionage, destroyed things that others had worked hard for.

“Am I…” Wilbur said quieter, “Am I the villain in your history?”

Tommy took Wil by the shoulders. “No.” His voice was certain. Wilbur was not the villain. He knew him. The two of them had been friends – brothers! – as long as he could remember. If there was one thing he knew, in all of his time in L’Manburg, it was that Wilbur Soot could never be the villain.

Wil took a step back, breaking Tommy’s hold on him. Wil’s eyes were piercing in the darkness, and Tommy could feel them searching his own, his face, his mind behind it.

“Why not?” Wilbur finally asked evenly.

He began walking again, and Tommy followed. He had to think. The evidence against them was strong, he couldn’t deny. But he knew what he knew. “Because we started L’Manburg. And we should’ve won that vote.”

“But the people decided we shouldn’t have, Tommy.”

“No. No, the people didn’t decide it,” Tommy insisted. “The endorsement did. What Schlatt did…”

“Tommy, we allowed the coalition,” Wil interrupted, his voice rising now as he climbed the final hill to their base. “They told us what they were doing and our arrogance got ahead of us. We allowed it. We said yes! It’s on tape! And yet here we are trying to overthrow them!" Wilbur gave a small chuckle, like someone finally thinking of an obvious answer to a complicated question. "Tommy, I think we’re the bad guys!”

“I…” Tommy didn’t know what to say. Wilbur wasn’t wrong. They had said yes. They’d allowed Schlatt to run at the head of a coalition.

“But Tommy, I don’t know…” Wilbur froze on the hill, and Tommy felt cold spiders creeping down his back as he turned back to face him. “Tommy, me and you – we both agree we’re in the right here, right?”

“I mean yeah, I’m always in the right, so…”

Wilbur stepped back down the hill so he could stand level with Tommy, an insane gleam in his eye. “Then let’s be the bad guys.”

Tommy took a step back, eyes narrowing, doubting he’d even heard what he’d just heard.

“Tommy, why not?” Wil said, spreading his arms as he backed into the doorway of the base. “Why not! Our nation’s gone! It’s behind us, Tommy. So let’s…” He lowered his voice to just above a whisper. “Let’s blow it to smithereens!” The insane light began to grow. “Let’s blow the whole…”

“Wait! Wait! Wilbur, are you thinking…?”

“Tommy, I say if we can’t have Manberg, then no one! No one can have Manberg!”

“But no! No, Wilbur!” Tommy said, trying to calm him down. “Wilbur, I think we can take it back, because…”

“I think this is a new era!” Wilbur’s voice was at a shout now, and try as he might to stand his ground, Tommy found his voice growing softer and softer, found himself involuntarily backing away from the insanity in Wilbur’s face. “This is a new era! We burn the place to the ground! I want no crops to grow there ever again. The entire place!”

“No, Wil!”

“Mycelium! Cobblestone! I want the whole thing just covered! I want it all gone!”

“Wilbur…”

“Tommy.” Wil was standing in the doorway of the base now, the warm light of the torches framing him from behind, casting his features in shadow except for the gleam in his eyes. “Tommy, let’s be villains.”

Tommy was torn as he’d never been before. In Wilbur’s silhouette, with the long dark coat and his hair pushed back under his hat, Tommy saw the same man he had always seen since the beginning of their time together. He wanted to say yes, no matter how crazy the idea was, because this was Wilbur! His Wilbur! The person he’d trusted with his life time and time again. He knew him! He knew his laugh and his tears, the way he always brushed his hair back, the look on his face when he was concentrating, and the way his fingers moved against the strings of a guitar. He’d questioned Wilbur’s plans before and yet still followed them because Wil was his brother. And if Wilbur believed this was what had to be done, then he was right…wasn’t he?

“Can I have a moment to think, Wil?”

“Think about what?” Wil asked, standing straighter. “Think about what?” You’ve had a minute. You’ve had days, weeks, months to think about what we should do!”

“Wilbur, I need a minute!” Tommy pushed past Wilbur, his head spinning, and retreated into the mines.

“The election happened two weeks ago, Tommy!” Wilbur was close behind him.

“I need a minute!” Tommy shouted, before ducking into his room and slamming the piston door behind him. In the cave outside his room, he could still hear Wil pacing, muttering to himself, fiddling with the mechanism of his crossbow. Tommy had never seen Wil like this. No…he had. In moments. In the way Wil had laughed in Dream’s face after they’d won their independence. During the war where Wilbur had looked out over the battlefield of carnage and seemed to be suppressing a smile. But a dark shadow had fallen over Wilbur. And Tommy was suddenly struck with the notion that this wasn’t his friend anymore.

#wilbur soot #evil wilbur #dreamsmp #dsmp #mcyt #fanfic #tommyinnit #l'manberg #manberg #jschlatt #sally salmon #pogtopia

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96thdayofrage · 4 years ago

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WAR DAY 7️⃣1️⃣0️⃣3️⃣ 🍵 "Secretary of State Anthony Blinken might have been 'outraged' by a rocket attack on a U.S. base in northern Iraq – that killed a foreign contractor and wounded an American service member and several other contractors – but he shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, it’s the muddled US military mission and on-going troop presence itself that creates nearly all the conditions for current crisis. That this particular truth tablet might be rather uncomfortable to swallow doesn’t make it any less so.

"If Blinken’s boss needs proof, he might consider applying what we could call his very own 'Biden Rule:' that staffers should avoid overly academic or elitist language in memos or policy papers. 'Pick up your phone, call your mother, read her what you just told me,' he reportedly tells aides – 'If she understands, we can keep talking.' Well, does Joe really think most American mothers, or fathers, or other lay citizens, could honestly explain just what the heck US troops are doing – and may well die doing – in Iraq, almost 18 years after George W. Bush’s initial invasion? Give us a break! All that Washington wish-wash about avoiding ISIS-resurgence, 'building partner capacity,' and balancing Iran, is liable to get even a hometown boy like Biden laughed out of a Scranton pub.

"Nevertheless, such attacks could very well derail Biden’s announced intent to reestablish Obama’s Iran nuclear deal, or even lead to a military escalation. After all, earlier this week, NATO agreed to an eight-fold increase in troops for its training and advisory mission in Iraq, and Secretary Blinken has himself begun a review America’s Iraq policy – to include feedback from the Pentagon – which may reach the White House as early as next month.

"There’ve actually been three separate rocket attacks on US bases in Iraq over the last week, one targeting each of country’s distinct communal regions – Erbil in semi-autonomous Kurdistan, another on Balad in mostly Sunni Salah al-Din Province, and lastly on the Green Zone in Shia-heavy (especially since the 2005-08 civil war’s ethnic cleansings) Baghdad. It seems American troops and – more on this soon – contractors still aren’t safe anywhere inside Iraq.

"Odd, that, since I recall plenty past (premature) pronouncements that 'the surge worked,' and that 'we have defeated ISIS.' Well, the first [surge success] bit was always a farce, and, while the second suggestion is basically true – despite mop-up-ops that Iraqi and invested regional forces can handle – it ain’t ISIS that’s set to take the blame for the recently raining rockets. No, that supervillain stature shall – as ever – belong to Iran."

Bogus Boogyman Iran

"Iranophobia and Tehran-alarmism are gifts that keep on giving – if mostly to the likes of Lockheed and Raytheon – in Washington. Only there’s hardly any basis to the threat. The whole thing’s political theater, a false binary blame game meant for domestic consumption and signal-sending to America’s Israeli and Gulf Monarchy mates. Thing is, real people die behind such drama.

"It all starts with what should be suspicious certainty of bipartisan policymakers and media pundits that Tehran’s tugging all the rocket-flingers’ strings. Take Ned Price, spokesman for Biden’s polite liberal State Department. He said, after Monday’s attack on Baghdad’s Green Zone that the US holds Iran responsible for the recent rocket spurt. Then there’s Trump’s former assistant secretary of state for Middle East policy, David Schenker, who was sure – after the initial Erbil attack – that: 'Ultimately, this is all about Iran – the missiles, the weaponry, the funding, the direction all comes from Tehran.' Then again, it’s always worth considering the source. In this case, Mr. Schenker is now a senior fellow at the Washington Institute for Near East Policy – which is known for its fiercely and uncritically pro-Israel stance, and was initially funded by the Israel Lobby-top dog AIPAC’s donors, staffed by AIPAC employees, and originally located just one door away from AIPAC’s D.C. headquarters.

"Then throw in Douglas Silliman, formerly US ambassador to Iraq from 2016 to 2019, who asserted after the Erbil attack: 'I have no doubt who’s behind it. It is the Iranian-supported Iraqi Shia militias who are behind this.' Only here again an astute observer must channel the street-wisdom of Queens’ own rapper 50 Cent and thus – 'step up in' the Washington 'club' and ask 'Who you wit?' In Silliman’s case, it isn’t 'G-Unit' but the Arab Gulf States Institute that’s now his post-government service 'clique.' In fact, he’s president of the damn thing. Keep an eye on that, it might matter – seeing as from the think tank’s 2015 inception, it was funded entirely by UAE and Saudi sources. You know, it’s enough to make you wonder whether Silliman’s Gulf autocrat paymasters – locked as they are in perennial quasi-war with Iran – might have some investment (pun intended) in having ol' Doug pin the latest bombs-over-Baghdad squarely on Tehran.

"Still, setting such conflicts of interest aside for the sake of argument, both Schenker’s and Silliman’s Iran-the-omniscient assertions strike as just a little too neat, too convenient for Washington’s hovering hawks. Maybe these specific guns did flow from Iran; maybe they didn’t. However, Tehran’s aren’t the only tools available. Iraq has long been awash with weapons, as anyone who ever walked a Baghdad beat – or frightened a few families with aggressive late-night house searches – knows all too well.

"Furthermore, despite Washington’s bipartisan propensity to 'create the enemies it needs' [in order to reap profits and power, that is] – by fabricating foes that seem ten-feet-tall and bulletproof – the truth is Iran hasn’t half the armed strength, or clear control over Iraqi proxies, as the hawks would have you believe. On the military side, Tehran’s mostly weak and unable to project any real power very far at all. Furthermore, as I noted in a 2019 Defense Priorities analysis, Iran’s American-allied regional antagonists – Turkey, Israel, Saudi Arabia, Egypt, and the UAE, for example – militarily outspend Tehran by a factor of ten!

"As for Iran’s ostensibly ironclad grip on the Iraqi militias allegedly launching all them rockets – if not exactly a mirage, the situation is definitely far more complex and ambiguous than all that. This much even some senior military officers occasionally admit. For example, after the Erbil attack, the U.S.-led coalition’s counter-ISIS mission deputy commander for strategy, British Army Major General Kevin Copsey, surmised that the fusillade was likely the work of an offshoot, not the core, of the mainline militias typically linked to Tehran. He also noted the crucial – if oft-ignored – concept of local agency: that paramilitaries and their associated politicians pursue personal motives and interests when deciding whether to take violent action.

"Copsey described it thus: 'You have your main militia groups, which arguably have their influence back into Tehran, and then you have these splinter groups that are self-interested. And they’re unpredictable and they’re out of control.' Allow me to surmise that the key words there are 'arguably,' 'self-interested,' and 'unpredictable.' In rebellions, proxy conflicts, and civil wars, matters are rarely clear, and always contingent.

"Here’s the basic rub: The ill-advised and illegal 2003 US military invasion caused most of the current madness; Trump’s 'maximum pressure' sanctions and saber-rattling predictably and demonstrably backfired; Iran’s offensive military capacity is actually rather limited and wildly exaggerated. Yet the one weapon it does have – as do the militias Tehran may or may not have sway over – are several variants of ballistic and cruise missiles.

"To review, then: America’s murky, no-exit, mission plays right into Tehran’s only viable military hands – not only strengthening the hardliners in their government, but turning our ever-adulated soldiers into little more than bewildered rocket-magnets."

Context Counts

"If Biden bolsters the US military’s anti-Iran proxy combat mission – which masquerades as ISIS-elimination – it will, by my count, constitute the fifth phase of America’s 30+ year war on or in Iraq. Call it Iraq War IV. Kind of has a nice ring to it, and ask any movie producer – sequels sell, even if they usually make for awful art (Godfather II aside, naturally). The cost of the running franchise has been fatal for some 2.5 million Iraqis – bombed, shot, starved, or diseased – over those three old school-imperial decades.

"Here on the tail end, in January 2020, the Iraqi government’s American friends went so far as to assassinate the top Iranian political and military figure Qasem Suleimani – on Iraqi soil, without informing the Baghdad government – thereby challenging and insulting Iraqi sovereignty. This triggered (imagine that) a not yet broken wave of political fury within both neighboring countries. In response, the Iraqi parliament voted to require the government to 'end any foreign presence on Iraqi soil and prevent the use of Iraqi airspace, soil and water for any reason' by foreign troops.

"Washington promptly ignored the democratic will of the Iraqi democracy it claimed to have built via its absurdly titled 'Operation Iraqi Freedom' 2003 invasion. There may (for now) be only 2,500 uniformed Americans in country, but these days, a big part of what’s long-bothered average Iraqis is Washington’s use of sundry – and often unhinged – civilian security contractors to do much of the occupying."

Mercenary Camouflage

"Given the tortured track record of America’s mercenary misadventures, perhaps Iraqis can be forgiven their frustration with the ongoing US presence in their country. Anger tends to come in waves and flared again last month, when dear Donald pardoned four American security contractors – from the infamous Blackwater outfit – for their roles in massacring 17 Iraqi civilians around Baghdad’s Nisour Square in 2007. I was in town for that sick show, and we in uniform sure felt some of the understandable blowback. Clearly, American policymakers aren’t exactly known for their self-awareness. Still, it hardly seems as outrageous as Secretary Blinken claimed that some locals might fling a few rockets at a few foreigner bases – and many more countrymen view it as legitimate resistance – when their own government’s Washingtonian 'friends' just let four Iraqi-child-killers off the hook. I don’t know, call me crazy.

"Either way, all this raises the not-so-minor matter of America’s shadowy security contracting apparatus in Iraq – an occupation-outsourcing as old as the adventure itself. The combat and logistics privatization factor is exposed in the composition of casualties in these ubiquitous rocket attacks. Over the last few years, more often than not the majority of the dead and injured have been contractors. For example, Saturday night’s strike on Balad airbase reportedly wounded a South African – I know, a bit on the nose for the mercenary game – employee of the US defense company Sallyport.

"This subsidiary of Caliburn International LLC – which has no less than five retired generals and admirals on its board, including former Trump White House chief of staff John Kelly and former Bush-era CIA director Michael Hayden – had been contracted to provide base services supporting Iraq’s F-16 fighter program. Caliburn is perhaps better known for another of its subsidiaries operating America’s largest facility for unaccompanied migrant children. However, as of 2018, the US government had reportedly paid Sallyport itself over $1 billion since 2014 to provide security, life support, and various training at Balad Air Base.

"There, Sallyport has been mired in past scandal. In 2019, a Daily Beast report indicated that The Department of Justice was investigating the company’s earlier alleged role in bribing Iraqi government officials in exchange for contracts costing American taxpayers billions. The Daily Beast’s earlier 2017 investigation also exposed that a clique of white South African security guards – the very nationality of the employee reportedly wounded in the recent rocket strike – had been promoting apartheid and abusing Sallyport’s minority members (along, apparently, with the base’s local dogs). By the way, the irony of Washington – amidst an era of renewed racial turmoil at home – hiring thousands of ex-apartheid soldiers to man its conflicts across the Middle East and North Africa: well, it almost defies imagination.

"So sure, there are key – if rarely reported – contractor connections to the recent rocket attacks. Yet, widening the aperture reveals far the broader and systemic mercenary madness masking – and underpinning – America’s entire enterprise in Iraq and the Greater Middle East. And unless Status Quo Joe, and a largely bought & sold (by defense industry campaign contributions) Congress, address this invisible enemy, then messing at the margins with uniformed boots-on-the-ground counts won’t measurably alter America’s two-decade-old regional adventure-fiasco. Oh, and speaking of those masters of the military-industrial complex contributions to the very congressmen with the power to end this entire hopeless crusade – recall that the F-16s Sallyport secures for the Iraqi Air Force are produced by Lockheed Martin. In the 2018 midterm elections alone, Lockheed bestowed $2,865,014 in blood money on the Capitol Hill crew.

"Only that ain’t the half of it. Consider the scale of the US contractor apparatus, by-the-numbers: In 2019, the Pentagon spent $370 billion on contracting – in other words, more than half its total discretionary spending. By the DOD’s own reckoning – during 1st quarter of FY21 – that translates to 38,164 contractor personnel supporting Pentagon operations in just the US Central Command (CENTCOM) area of responsibility (AOR – from essentially Egypt to Afghanistan). That includes 4,677 in the Iraq-Syria sub-theater – 2,300 of them American citizens. Which is to say, contractors now maintain more than a 2 to 1 ratio over US military members in the CENTCOM sphere.

"There’s a design, and a cost, to all this. According to her June 2020 report, what Heidi Peltier of Brown University’s Cost of War Initiative called the contracting 'Camo Economy,' has been used by the US government to conceal the costs – in cash, killing, and American blood – of its endless, meandering, military missions. The proof is in the mortality pudding: since 2001, some 8,000 US contractors have died in America’s Greater Mideast adventures – that’s actually more than the Pentagon’s official tally of 7,056 uniformed troop deaths.

"That few people know this, exposes its enduring political utility. A one minute Google search offers precise, to-a-man and up-to-date, statistics on US military deaths – but I wouldn’t wish the required Department of Labor archive-mining to find contractor casualty details on my worst enemy. Take it from me, it’s a maddening enough rabbit-hole-spiral to garner a grin from Kafka. And, as matters now stand, more deaths of those once invisible contractors could end up pulling the US into yet another phase of hopeless, wasteful war in Iraq. Now that’d deserve the American foreign policy tragicomedy award for 2021.

"Look, I like context and nuance as much as the next guy, but sometimes the simplicity of 'Sutton’s Law' – a medical mantra that, when diagnosing, one should first test for the obvious – is the best policy prescription. The dictate derives from real-life famed criminal folk hero Willie Sutton, who when asked why he robbed banks, replied – perhaps apocryphally – 'Because that’s where the money is!' It’s a hell of a story, the sort Biden’s sure to like.

"And in a sense, it tracks today’s mess. Ask an ayatollah or a local militiaman why he allegedly attacks US bases in Iraq – and a clever one might accurately quip: 'Because that’s where the Americans are!'

"In other words…because we’re there."

###

Danny Sjursen is a retired US Army officer, senior fellow at the Center for International Policy (CIP), contributing editor at Antiwar.com, and director of the new Eisenhower Media Network (EMN). His work has appeared in the NY Times, LA Times, The Nation, Huff Post, The Hill, Salon, The American Conservative, Mother Jones, Scheer Post and Tom Dispatch, among other publications. He served combat tours in Iraq and Afghanistan and later taught history at West Point. He is the author of a memoir and critical analysis of the Iraq War, Ghostriders of Baghdad: Soldiers, Civilians, and the Myth of the Surge, and Patriotic Dissent: America in the Age of Endless War. Along with fellow vet Chris "Henri" Henriksen, he co-hosts the podcast “Fortress on a Hill.” Follow him on Twitter @SkepticalVet and on his website for media requests and past publications.

_____

🍵 All Risk, No Reward: The Perils and Absurdity of Iraq War 4.0. By Maj. Danny Sjursen, USA (ret.), Antiwar.com, Feb. 25, 2021.

https://original.antiwar.com/Danny_Sjursen/2021/02/24/all-risk-no-reward-the-perils-and-absurdity-of-iraq-war-4-0/?fbclid=IwAR0URXJQNDvEP5zpVqk6hlEiAGapknSZ6vhg5jHMZ_1nI-Zg7Y0h3uyuRjk

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