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sp0o0kylights · 1 year

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“Oh god it’s covered in hearts.” Gareth says, staring horrified at the stage that’s been set up in the cafeteria. Grant and Jeff stand next to him, eyeing the abomination of glitter, paper, and tinsel that’s been shaped into pink and red hearts with a microphone standing proud in the middle.

Several of Hawkin’s jocks are standing to the side, talking amongst themselves, but worse is the crowd of students accumulating in front of the stage.

“You don’t think they’re gonna serenade us for Valentine's Day, do you?” Jeff asks in a similar tone of horror.

Grant makes a disgusted face at the very thought.

“It’s about time they gave me my own mic!” Eddie cackles, slamming his hands down on Gareth and Jeff’s shoulders for leverage, jumping up for a better look (Grant smartly ducked away before his friend can crawl all over him too), “I’ve only been going on about the capitalistic horrors of Valentine's Day since middle school!”

They groan in unison..

Eddie’s got a look on his face that says he’s about to vault up on stage and do this year's rant in style; Gareth will be damned if he lets Eddie get detention on a Hellfire campaign night.

“Eddie, no.” Gareth warns, as his best friend tries to worm his way past them.

“Eddie, yes.” He grins, bolting forward even as multiple hands reach out to yank him back.

“Whatever they’re doing we do not want to get in the middle!” Jeff hisses in his ear as Grant reaches for his middle (already once tricked by grabbing Eddie’s jacket, which he simply shrugged out of). Gareth does his part, holding firmly onto one of Eddie’s hands. Eddie bravely tries to stagger forward, despite the efforts of what looks like some kind of mutant tangle of human limbs.

“Come here microphone, my beloved!” He pants, comically reaching his arms out towards the stage, before Grant promptly stops fooling around and hefts him into the air.

“Nooo--the people need to hear me!” Eddie wails, thrashing.

Gareth rolls his eyes and spots three familiar faces in doing so. Freezes so abruptly that the arm he was holding onto slips out of his grip, allowing Eddie to deploy a tickle attack.

The result is Grant almost throwing him to the floor, with Jeff forced to let go or fall.

Free to cause chaos, Eddie throws his hands in the air, grinning widely.

“Is that…the freshman, up there?” Gareth asks before his best friend can crow victory.

“I’m sure there’s many freshmen up there, buddy.” Grant says with false sincerity as he regains his breath.

“No, not--I mean our freshmen! Henderson, Wheeler, and Sinclair!” He points, and sure enough, on the side of the crowd opposite the jocks, there stood Hellfire’s youngest with their heads put together.

“Now just what are they up to, I wonder?” Eddie ponders aloud, before shrugging his jacket back in place and strutting forward.

Trading uneasy looks with each other, his friends follow.

xXx

“The auction isn’t kicking off until 6 pm.” Henderson says, as he carefully counts the individual bills in his hand. “We know that besides the basketball team and the cheerleading team, they’ve got like, the Mayor involved, and the fire department, which means--”

“A lot of people are going to be there.” Mike interrupts, arms crossed over his arms. “That’s what it means, Dustin. What’s the point if every girl there is going to be bidding on him?”

“Were you even listening, Mike? I just said there’s a bunch of other people they’re auctioning off!”

Wheeler Jr. pulls a face that nearly makes Eddie laugh (and thus give up the fact he was slowly sneaking up on them) before the kid shoots back, “We have five dollars total Dustin. I don’t think that’s going to be enough.”

“Not to buy a whole person.” Eddie says, voice dropping to imitate the current big bad in their D&D campaign, “But five dollars is a fair price for a body part I’d say…”

He trails off with a cackle as the three freshmen startle away from him like spooked horses. “Now what--or who--are you buying?”

“They’re gonna explain it here in a minute,” Dustin says after he recovers, waving at the girls in front of the stage with a hand. “But there’s some big charity fundraiser happening tonight. Right now they’re voting one guy from the basketball team and one girl from the cheerleading squad to represent the school, but they’re auctioning off a bunch of people.” Dustin explains, holding up his fistful of dollars with a wild grin.

“If you’re the highest bidder, you get to spend the day with the person you bid on.” Lucas adds, because Dustin skipped right over that part. “Since it’s Valentine's Day themed, they’re referring to them as “winning a date”.

Well that explained all the giggling cheerleaders.

Eddie raises an eyebrow, “I’d ask if this is Sinclair’s bail money, but as my last two years remind me, it’s only for juniors and seniors. Not--” He playfully slings an arm around Lucas’s shoulders, “--for the darkside’s newest recruits.”

The uncomfortable look Lucas gives him is almost enough to make Eddie feel bad, but it’s not his fault Lucas was tempted by the evils of highschool sportsball. He figures the kid will come to his senses soon enough, and considering how awful the jocks are, it won’t be too long before Sinclair is 100% a Hellfire club member again.

“Which begs the question.” Eddie continues, slinging an arm over Mike’s shoulder as well. “What are you scheming? I’d ask if you’re buying me a date, but,'' He gives an over-dramatic sigh,” alas, no one can survive the charms of Eddie the Banished.”

“Charm is one word for it.” Jeff says, as the rest of Hellfire finally catches up. Gareth and Grant roll their eyes as Mike and Lucas chuckle weakly at Eddie’s exaggerated pout.

He drops his arms from his little lamb’s shoulders, taking a step back and looking around at the growing crowd.

“Hush Jeff. Let’s see if ol’ Eddie can guess who our brethren here have their eyes on. I wonder if…” He trails off, dragging out the last word as he does so before a bright, teasing smile lights up his face. “Aha! I see one Miss Cunningham. Are we bidding on her for Sir Gareth?”

A sputtering noise erupts behind him, as Eddie turns with glee to watch Gareth practically choke on soda he’d just taken a sip of, Grant thumping him on the back.

“Eddie.” Gareth hisses, and somehow it sounds like a warning even if his voice has a slight wheeze to it.

“What?” Eddie says, full of faux innocence. “We all know the lengths you’ve gone to get her attention recently.”

Gareth’s gone bright red, a testament to the fact that he’s been mooning over Chrissy Cunningham since the day she complimented one of his drawings.

His over-the-top moaning of how to woo her away from Jason is a prospect Eddie tolerates only because he himself has gone through great lengths to impress men that will never once look his way, let alone consider him as a romantic option.

(And also because Gareth, as Eddie’s best friend and confidant, was well aware of Eddie’s own crush on one Steve Harrington.

Apparently, Hellfire’s members were just cursed to fall for jocks.)

“They want to bet on Steve.” Mike says with an eye roll, apparently done with this entire charade.

For two seconds Eddie thinks that he’s somehow spoken the part about Steve aloud and that Mike is somehow echoing his deepest, innermost thoughts but is saved from panicking further by Dustin adding;

“We’re gonna make him play a campaign with us.”

The kid’s grin makes his eyes sparkle, which is completely at odds with the way Eddie’s stomach plummets.

“He played D&D with my sister, Eddie.” Lucas says, feigning a hurt look. “My kid sister, but not me?”

“Harrington played D&D?” Gareth’s voice implies he doesn’t believe it, and honestly? Had it not been for the freshmen, he wouldn’t have believed anything that was said about Harrington. He was on the verge of tears with laughter when they told him that the almighty King Steve was their chauffeur. They had to be lying about how often they hung out with Steve to begin with, right? Because there was just no way.

Except they weren’t. They really, really, weren’t.

It only took a handful of times of watching Steve pick them up from Hellfire, and then seeing the entire extended group (including Sinclair’s on-again-off-again girlfriend and Robin Buckley of all people) bouncing around Harrington like over excited puppies all over town.

The arcade. Downtown Hawkins. The local milkshake diner and the stupid movie theater.

Literally.

Everywhere.

“You guys are going to bid on Steve Harrington and make him play D&D.” Jeff clarifies, and Eddie doesn’t blame him for doing that either.

It’s the stupidest thing he’s heard all day, and he spent the last hour and a half listening to Mr. Rulf yawn on about parallelograms.

“Yeah! You guys wanna pitch in and help?”

“Absolutely not.” Eddie sneers. He can’t help himself--this is against everything he’s ever stood for.

Stupid thoughts of stupid Steve going on a stupid date with him, aside.

“Yeah guys, I think we’re gonna eat outside today. If you wanna listen to…whatever,” Jeff casts his eyes towards the cheerleader that’s bounding up the steps of the stage, ponytail bouncing, “ then go right ahead.”

“Oh we don’t need to listen to this.” Dustin dismisses the entire thing with a wave of his hand, making Mike roll his eyes again.

Somewhere in his campaign notes there’s a joke written about Wheeler Jr’s eyes getting stuck like that. Eddie hadn’t planned on bringing it out tonight, but a part of him really wants to.

Maybe if he can talk the freshman out of their idiotic idea, he’ll reward himself and do it tonight anyways.

….Or he could still steal that microphone.

xXx Steve xXx

Steve has no idea how he got talked into this.

Actually, that’s a lie, he knows how it started: a phone call, his mother, and a sudden way for her to be in the spotlight for her yearly fifteen minutes of Hawkins fame. He just can’t recall why he agreed to it.

“It's an opportunity, Steven." She says, heels clicking against the department store tile.

An embarrassment is what it was, but Steve knew better than to tell his mother that.

"You should be honored that Wendy--that’s the head chair of the charity board, you remember her don't you? She used to attend your piano recitals--she asked for you personally." His mother expertly plucked a shirt from the rack, holding it up to the light.

"Those were your parties mom, not my piano recitals." Steve reminds her as she holds the shirt out to him. He took it, adding it to the stack he had in his hands.

The parties were the exact same kind of shit this as this “Valentine's Day Fundraiser” a way for rich people to celebrate themselves by making others uncomfortable.

Only instead of being forced to play piano so his mothers friends could wine and dine with the famous Harrington's, he was being hauled up in front of the entire town (or whoever was attending this stupid event) and auctioned off as a “date” to the highest bidder.

(“It’s for one day, Steven, don’t be so dramatic. Why is your generation entirely incapable of taking a joke and having fun?” His mother had said, when he tried to tell her he wasn’t comfortable with the idea.

Of course there was no answer that would please her; soon enough, Steve found himself dragged about town as his mother played dress up.)

"You'll be standing alongside the Mayor, the fire department, even that idiot, Mary Marie--"

She stops for a moment, eyeing a jacket with a critical eye.

Just as quickly she dismisses it with a hum, prowling on to the next section.

"--the point is that there will be plenty of candidates for the children to pick from, but you’ll be the only hero up there."

That same critical eye turns on him, appraising him like he was no more than a horse in her stable, adding up imperfections and dividing amongst his best qualities.

(Despite a lifetime of training, it still takes everything in him not to squirm.)

"Not to mention a Harrington.” She purrs, taking a step closer to run a manicured hand down the front of his shirt, smoothing away a stray crease. “Women will be throwing money to win a day with you."

Steve has to fight not to outright shudder.

"Which means you have to look your best. Now stop whining, we’re almost done.”

Steve doubts that, but it doesn’t matter; he never had a choice to begin with.

xXx

Four hours, one shower, and several rounds of his mother’s nagging and meticulous styling, ,Steve finds himself back in Hawkin’s High, staring at the gym.

His mother had long swept past him, having spotted some high school friends and gone over to lord her lifestyle and general wealth over them.

For a fundraiser, the charity board in charge had spared no expense in dressing the gym up. Red, pink and white balloons decorated the doorways and a large stage hauled to one end.

Tables with thick, white table cloth are artfully arranged about the floor, caterers swiftly moving between them.

This is probably the fanciest this gym has ever looked, and Steve wants to be anywhere but inside it.

“Oh--Steve.” A gentle voice says next to him, and Steve turns his head in surprise to see Chrissy Cunningham look nervously up at him. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Me neither honestly.” He tells her, watching the way that makes the younger woman smile. “But I’ve been volun-told to be auctioned off. What about yourself?”

Chrissy runs her hands down her dress, a modest if not beautiful blue halter dress , wincing as she snags a nail on it. “The school held a vote at lunch about who would represent the school tonight. All of the varsity cheerleaders and basketball players were involved.”

“I see.” Steve says, keeping his voice gentle and playful. There had always been a part of Chrissy that had reminded him of El. Someone who needed kind words in their life. “You got voted as tonight’s sacrifice, huh?”

Chrissy laughs at that, hand flying to cover her mouth. “I guess you could say that.” She says, and seems surprised at herself for it.

“Did Jason get picked too?” Steve asks. It would make sense if he was, the guy was the basketball Captain after all.

Chrissy nods, then chews on her lip. “Yes but--he’s not happy about it,”

Steve snorts and tries to cover it with a cough. “None of us are.”

“It’s more that I’m being auctioned off.”

Chrissy must catch the look on his face because she rushes to add; “You know, like any boyfriend would be! I know it’s just supposed to be a fun silly thing and they’re not really dates but…” She trails off, voice growing quieter at the end. “He worries.”

The word “worry” sounds like it means something else entirely.

Steve feels for her.

“Hey, if Jason’s an ass about it, let me know.” Steve says after a moment of shared silence. “You don’t deserve to deal with him being a kid about this shit.”

Chrissy blinks up at him at that, hand almost to her mouth as though she’d subconsciously raised them up to chew on her nails. “Thanks Steve. That’s nice of you.” She whispers it, and Steve nods and smiles at her.

“There you two are!” A woman says, rushing over with a clipboard. “Steve Harrington and Chrissy Cunningham, right? We’re gathering all the dates behind those doors.” She turns and points to the opposite end of the gym. “If you both would follow me please?”

Steve motions for Chrissy to go first, and moves to follow her when a flash of curls crushed down by a blur of white, blue and electric yellow catches his eye.

He turns automatically, seeking it out and sure enough, ducking down the hall is Henderson, Sinclair hot on his heels.

A familiar mixture of emotions lights up Steve’s spine, and he knows immediately he won’t be able to rest until he figures out what the gremlins are up to--because their Hellfire Club was supposedly canceled today on grounds that Munson had stolen a microphone, or some other crap.

“I’m really sorry, I’ll join you in a second!” Steve calls, before darting down the hall, after them.

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choke-me-joey · 1 year

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Eddie Munson x fem metalhead cheerleader

Summary: Based on this - how Eddie met his not so typical cheerleader girlfriend and a little exploration of their relationship.

Content warning: 18+ content minors DNI, smoking, underage drinking, drug use, swearing, flirting, smut.

Author's note: Happy Valentines Day! Every year I say I hate it and then get a little sad when I don't get a card or something little so….here is my gift to you because I love you all! This chapter also comes with a kiss on the forehead for you 😘

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

It had been 2 months since Eddie had ended things. 2 months since you had stopped speaking to him, even glancing his way. You'd stopped going to Hellfire, stopped going to The Hideout and you'd even gone as far as to request your seat be changed in Ms O'Donnell's class, meaning you now sat on the far side of the room, pretty much as far as you could get from him. No more whispered exchanges whilst Ms O'Donnell's back was turned, no more quick kisses at your locker between classes, no more smiles across the cafeteria, nothing. There was nothing now.

The guys in Hellfire knew something had to have happened, but weren't exactly sure what. Eddie had changed personalities overnight, now sullen and moody, quick to anger and snap as opposed to his usual clowning around, all lovesick and dopey and full of jokes. Now, honestly, he was kind of depressing to be around.

You were no better off. The cheer squad weren't exactly your friends before, and now you didn't really have anyone to turn to. You got along with everyone, sure, but since Eddie had broken your heart you had become so withdrawn and quiet, your coach had to step in and make sure everything was okay.

Of course it was the usual response that "boys come and go, honey, it's just a high school crush" which made you want to roll your eyes right out of your goddamn head. Your mood fluctuated from sad, to angry, to sad again, and you'd lost count of how many times you'd cried yourself to sleep over the last 2 months, clutching at Eddie's old Dio shirt he'd given you to sleep in a few weeks into your relationship, but never asked for it back. It very, very faintly smelled of him still and honestly it was the only thing keeping you from completely losing it.

Despite how much he had hurt you, and how angry you got at times, it didn't mean your feelings for Eddie had completely disappeared. Of course you still loved him. You had fallen hard and fast for him and that wasn't just going to go away. Ignoring him at school was one of the hardest things you've ever done, but you knew it would eventually ease your pain.

Rumours swirled around the school, as they do. First it was you had come to your senses and dumped the freak, then it was because Eddie had tried to sacrifice you to Satan and scared you off. But the newest one was that Eddie was screwing a girl in the next town over, and you had found out. Turns out somebody had caught a glimpse of the nude Polaroid falling out of Eddie's locker, not realising it was actually you, and the rumour swelled from there.

That damn Polaroid. It had ruined everything. You don't even know where it had come from, any nudes you'd taken of yourself were safely secured in your bedroom, and any nudes anyone else had ever taken of you were destroyed upon breaking up, you'd made sure of that.

But this particular photo...you'd been racking your brain for weeks trying to think how someone could have gotten a hold of it. It was one you'd kept in your room, you knew it was because of the little star you'd marked them all with; you were very conscious of keeping your nudes safe.

Besides, you'd only ever had 2 boyfriends that you'd taken these pictures for, and you'd not even given them to 1 of them. You'd never taken them for any fuck buddies or one time flings, despite being asked. And you rarely ever brought those dudes into your bedroom, except for-

Your heart pounds, and you start to shake.

That motherfucker.

Eddie sighed as he pulled up to Chrissy Cunningham's mansion the following Friday night. He could hear the music already thumping away; Chrissy's parents had gone out of town for the weekend so of course, Eddie had been called upon to deal. He fucking hated these things, especially now that he didn't have you by his side. He swallowed hard.

He fucking missed you.

He missed you so much it hurt. Now it had been nearly 3 months since he'd found that photo, since he'd ended things, and he still couldn't get your face out of his head. The way you'd looked at him, the way your voice wobbled and cracked with emotion, and the way you'd hissed at him with a venom he had never, ever imagined you spitting at him.

You hated him now. You didn't even look at him in school, stopped coming to Hellfire, stopped parking your car next to his van, stopped it all.

Was that because you were guilty? Pissed at him because he'd called you out? Or...maybe, just maybe, he'd made a mistake.

Eddie kicked himself mentally every time he thought about it. He let his emotions get the best of him, like always, only this time he'd let the rage take over. That had only ever happened once before and it ended in a broken hand, the other guy's broken jaw and Chief Hopper hauling him into a cell, letting him rot there overnight before Wayne came to bail him out the next morning. Eddie had never felt so ashamed as he did when his uncle had looked at him with that sad, disappointed expression. Wayne never said it, but Eddie knew exactly what he was thinking- he was following in his father's footsteps.

He'd sworn to himself after that that he would never let his rage take over again.

And then you came along, he fell head over heels like never before and when his brain had told him you were definitely cheating on him, that he wasn't worthy of you, that you couldn't possibly love him, and when he read that stupid fucking note that all but, in his mind, confirmed his fears he just lost control.

And now you were gone.

Except you weren't gone, because there you were, walking up Chrissy's front path with a couple of the other cheerleaders, looking as perfect as ever, in leather pants and a cropped Bon Jovi shirt, sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the other party goers dressed in...well, color. Eddie watched as a group of football players met their girlfriends, pulling them into sloppy drunken kisses and grabbing their asses, making the girls squeal and giggle. One football player - was it Johnson? - approaches you with a predatory look in his eye and Eddie doesn't realise he's holding in a breath until he releases it when you completely blank Johnson, shoving past him and into Chrissy's house.

This was going to be a long night.

You'd lost count of how many beers you'd drank and how many shots you'd thrown back. And honestly, you didn't fucking care.

You'd seen Eddie's van parked up down the street when you'd arrived; of course he'd be here. He was always expected to show at these parties - it's where he'd make most of his money. The minute you'd seen it, that's when you decided you were going to get absolutely shit wrecked.

That and when Johnson had had the balls to approach you, grinning like the fucking cat who stole one of your nude photos to sabotage your relationship.

You'd kept your cool, you had to. Your spot on the squad couldn't take another fight, or scandal. You had to swallow your anger towards Johnson, that regretful summer fling from last year, and just get on with it.

So of course, you chose to drink. And dance. And smoke. All on your own of course. You know everyone is looking at you, but you couldn't give two shits if you tried.

You stumble out into the backyard, and spot Eddie dealing at the far end of the yard. Fuck it, you think, you want to just let go, and you knew Eddie had the good shit. You inhale and walk over to Eddie as a group of girls leave him. He looks you up and down, concerned.

"Y/N?" He sounds almost afraid.

"Munson." You say curtly and he winces. "Got any pre-rolled?"

"Y/N, I don't think you should be smoking-"

"And I don't think you should be acting like my goddamn boyfriend, Munson, when you made it pretty clear 3 months ago that you thought I was cheating slut!" You snap. Eddie's jaw clenches.

"I'm not selling to you, Y/N. You're wasted."

"And so is everyone else here!" You gesture around, exaggerated by the alcohol. "Don't act all caring now, Munson. Just...don't."

"Fine." He grits out, giving you the pre-rolled joint from behind his ear. You hand him a $20, but he pushes your hand away. "Just take it."

You sigh. "Jesus, look, just take the damn money, okay? I don't expect girlfriend privileges anymore."

"I don't want your fucking money, okay? Just take the goddamn joint, Y/N, I'm just trying to be nice!"

"Well don't!" You yell, a few people glancing over as a silence falls over them. "You broke my heart, Eddie, you don't get to be fucking nice! You never even once gave me a chance to explain-"

"What was there to explain?!" Eddie yells back, taking you by surprise. "It was pretty fucking crystal clear to me, Y/N! And you weren't the only one who had their fucking heart broken, I loved you!"

You freeze, your breathing turning shaky and you blinked rapidly, tears threatening to spill over. You throw the joint at him and turn on your heel, storming back into the house.

"Getting tired of that right hand yet, freak?" A smug voice makes Eddie turn around. He comes face to face with Aaron Johnson, another one of Anderson's idiotic companions. Eddie rolls his eyes.

"You buying or not?" He replies, and Johnson smirks, leaning against a tree.

"You know, if it wasn't for Y/N's shitty taste in music, I probably would have carried on hitting that. She's so fucking hot but I can't be seen with someone who dresses like a satanist, wearing all that demonic shit. My mom would have disowned me. But, fuck, that pussy's second to none, right Munson?"

Eddie's jaw clenches.

"And that body, fuck, it's insane. Glad I found her secret stash of pics and took a little reminder for myself. Came in handy more than a few times." Johnson grins and Eddie's stomach drops. "Y'see, she fucked with our team, freak. Got Anderson kicked off when we were a sure win for the championship, I could've gotten a fucking scholarship. And thanks to her, that ain't happening. So, I just had to let you know what a stupid little slut she is, Munson. I did you a favour."

"You." Eddie grits out. "You did this."

"I did her, too. She really is a freak in the sack, isn't she? Think she's drunk enough to let me fu-"

Eddie's fist connects with Johnson's cheek before he can even finish his sentence. Johnson staggers back in suprise, before returning a blow to Eddie's stomach, and the two begin to brawl, much to the delight of the onlookers in the yard. The news travels fast throughout Chrissy's house.

"Holy shit! Johnson's fighting the freak!" A voice yells from the kitchen, and your head snaps up from the beer you were nursing on the couch in the living room.

You push through the crowd that are now chanting 'fight, fight, fight!' and eventually get outside to the chaotic scene of Eddie and Johnson rolling around on the floor beating the piss out of each other, blood splattering the patio.

"Eddie!" You scream out as he rolls on top of Johnson, driving his fist into his face. He doesn't hear you, blinded by rage. It scares you to see him like this, so, so angry and vicious. Even though he broke your heart, you still cared for him and hated the way his beautiful face was bruised and bloody and curled into a snarl. You run over and grab his arm before he can drive it down again and pull him off of Johnson, but he pulls away from you and dives towards him again. Johnson is a better fighter than Anderson for sure, and immediately pins Eddie back on the ground. "Get the fuck off of him, Aaron!"

"How'd you like the little gift I left your boyfriend, Y/N?!" Johnson bellows, laughing maniacally as you shove him off of Eddie, who coughs and spits out blood onto the patio. "Should have thought twice before you fucked with the team!"

"This is all because of your fucking high school football career?!" You shriek. "Oh my god, grow up! If Anderson wasn't such a pig maybe he'd still be on the goddamn team!"

Johnson gets off of a groaning Eddie, staggering slightly as he grins at you.

"He knows what an easy little slut you are, Y/N, can you really blame him for trying? If you'll let this freak stick his dick in you, you're gonna let anyone do it."

"At least I knew when his dick was in me, which is more than I can say about yours, Johnson." You bite back, making several of the onlookers gasp and giggle. Johnson looks visibly embarrassed and enraged. "I only give my nudes to guys with dicks bigger than 3 inches, you fucking Neanderthal."

Johnson takes a step towards you, but he's quickly restrained by two of his buddies. The wail of police sirens and flashing lights a few streets over is enough for the crowd to disperse; one of the neighbours must have called and reported the party. "Shit," you hiss, helping Eddie up off of the floor and pushing your way out of the panicked crowd. "Give me your keys."

"You...you can't fucking drive, you’re wasted." Eddie grumbles.

"Yeah? Well I bet I can drive better than you can with a busted eye, Munson, so unless you want another run in with Hopper, give me your damn keys."

Eddie sighs and places them into your hand. You wince at the sight of his raw, bloody knuckles.

You help him to the van and buckle yourself in to the driver's seat. "You're gonna need to direct me Mr Here's Another Excuse For You Not To Come To My Place."

Eddie sighs again.

"It's…Forest Hills Trailer Park, you know it?" You nod. Eddie looked almost ashamed. "Of course you do, Hawkins' best trailer trash, drug addicts and drunks all in one spot, I'm surprised they don't charge at the gate for parents to just bring their kids in and show them how they shouldn't end up like this. Like a damn museum exhibit." Eddie mumbles bitterly. You frown, doing your best to concentrate on driving straight.

"Eddie-"

"It's left here."

The 15 minute drive was silent, not even the radio playing, with intermittent grunts or hisses of pain from Eddie. When you arrive at his trailer, you help him out of the van and to the door, unlocking with his keys. You sit him on the small couch.

"Got any frozen peas?" You ask, looking around the trailer at the small kitchen.

"My uncle keeps ice packs just for this very reason. Second drawer."

You follow his instructions and retrieve one, wrapping it in a dish cloth and handing it to him.

"Keep that on your eye. Where's your first aid stuff?"

Eddie places the ice pack on his eye. "Bathroom cabinet, down the hall on your right, but, Y/N you don't-"

But you ignore him and find your way to the small bathroom. Your tummy flutters as you pass by what is obviously Eddie's bedroom, getting a waft of that delicious Eddie smell. You enter the small bathroom and dig in the cabinet and find an old bottle of peroxide, Neosporin, cotton pads and bandaids. You also find a washcloth, soaking it in cold water and squeezing out the excess water. You go back out into the living room and kneel in front of Eddie.

"Chin up." You instruct, and he does, wincing as you gently rub at the dried blood on his face, getting rid of the worst of it before you soak a cotton pad in peroxide. "This is gonna sting."

Eddie sucks in a breath as you dab at the cut on his cheek. "Ow, fuck."

"Told you." You clean it as gently as possible before popping some Neosporin on it and a band aid. You repeat the process on the cut his forehead, lip, chin and his knuckles. “Didnt think you were a fighter, Munson.”

“Oh, I’m Munson again now?” Eddie huffs and you roll your eyes, placing the last bandaid on his knuckle. “Thanks…”

“No problem, it was kind of my fault you got in a fight. I should have realised sooner that it was him.”

Eddie clears his throat.

“Yeah, listen, about that…I’m sorry, Y/N. I should have let you explain. I guess I was just pissed at the thought of you having fucked someone else, even if it was before me.”

“Yeah, you should have let me explain.” you say, your voice a little sharp. Eddie avoids your eyes. “It’s fine, what’s done is done, but…thanks for defending my honour.”

“Just returning the favour, sweetheart. Couldn't have you beating the shit out of another jock, your place on the squad would have been toast."

"Yeah well…" you shrug, stifling a yawn. You glance at the clock on the wall. "Jesus, when did it get to be 3am?!"

"Well you lost about 5 hours getting wasted. I'm suprised you got us back without landing us in a ditch." Eddie smirked and you shoved him.

"I guess the adrenaline sobered me up." You sigh. "I gotta stop going to these parties, especially when you're there. You're the problem here."

"Ain't nothing new there. Go, take my bed, you need to sleep."

"But what about you, Eddie? You're injured, I cant kick you out of your own bed. I can crash on the couch."

Eddie snorts. "Yeah, I'm sure my uncle would appreciate you stealing his spot when he gets in from his night shift in a couple hours. Take my bed, I'll sleep on the floor."

You roll your eyes. You forgot how stubborn he could be.

"Okay fine but um, can I borrow some clothes? Leather pants aren't exactly the comfiest thing to sleep in."

"Sure, come on princess." Eddie leads you to his bedroom, rifling through his messy drawers before handing you a shirt and some boxers. "You can, uh, change in the bathroom."

"Why? Not like you haven't seen it all before." You shrug, stripping off your shirt and pants, standing in Eddie's room in your bra and panties, modesty gone thanks to the alcohol still lingering in your system . Eddie swallows hard, looking away. He doesn't look back at you until you clear your throat. His heart hammers in his chest as he takes in the sight of you in his favourite Metallica shirt and some of his comfiest boxers, taking your hair down out of the band it had been tied up with. You smile at him softly. "You wore this shirt to my house the first time."

"You wore it too," he grins, wincing as his lip screams at him.

"Yeah for like an hour, you insisted on getting me naked again." You giggle, cheeks flushing.

"I am but a man, sweetheart." Eddie holds his hands up in admittance. He quickly straightens up his bedsheets before gesturing for you to climb in. You gingerly do so, part of you so sad that it's under these circumstances that you're in Eddie's bed for the first time, and part of you elated at being surrounded by everything Eddie. You watch Eddie take off his jeans and shirt, gathering a couple of spare blankets and pillows to lay out on the floor of his cramped but cozy room. Once he's readied his bed, he flicks off the light, and a silence falls over the two of you as you both settle into your respective beds.

Your stomach churns with nerves; you hadn't been near him for so long and now he was so close you could touch him, but you couldn't touch him. It was torture and your mouth spoke before your brain could catch up.

"Eddie?"

"Mm?"

"I miss you." You whisper into the darkness. You're not even sure he heard you until you felt his hand, his non busted hand, blindly reach up and feel around for yours. His fingers link with yours and his thumb brushes over your knuckles.

"I'm right here."

Taglist:

@big-ope-vibes

@50shadesofuncomfortable

@bibieddiesgf

@josephquinngirly

@mich-13

@wintersoldierbaby

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@joesquinns

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@ghostinthebackofyourhead

@joejoequinnquinn

@ches-86

@mystars123

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@bellamy1998

@dylanmunson

@avalon-wolf

@pastelorangeskies

@letme-simp

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@beeblisss

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@spacedoutdaydreamer

@0o-venus-o0

@bexreadstoomuch

@l0st-f1ow3rs

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@latebread

@steveharringtonisbae

@alexa-33

@shotgunhallelujah

@coffeeaddictednymph

@angelsarecallin

@eddiessweetheart86

@daysinthephoenix

Tag list continued in comments!

#eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie smut #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things eddie munson #stranger things fluff #stranger things smut #stranger things imagine

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withacapitalp · 3 months

Text

Dear You, Pt 1

For the miraculous amazing wonderful @artbean LEX I am SO happy I got to be your Valentine this year I am so excited for you to get to enjoy every bit of this story, and I can't wait to scream about it with you now that I FINALLY can. Also a very huge thank you to @hbyrde36 for being the worlds BEST beta and encouraging me every single day on this. I can't wait to watch this one grow

Link to AO3

----- It all started with a dimebag.

Well, actually, it started long before that, not that Eddie had any clue back then.

For him though, it started with a dimebag.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Eddie said, huffing out an incredulous laugh as he stared down Steve Harrington, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Despite what his new sheep seemed to think about the former King of Hawkins High, Eddie knew guys like Harrington. They didn’t change, or somehow suddenly evolve into not shitty humans. They were high school has-beens, losers, dicks who never had to grow up because daddy would always be there to protect them.

Steve coming to see him alone after Hellfire? The only way that was going to end was with a plastic baggie and cash exchanging hands, or some kind of fucked up prank that he would laugh about with his other jock douchebags for all of a week.

But King Steve hadn’t done either of those things. In an increasingly confusing turn of events, Harrington had apparently come to him to ask Eddie to sell weed to Jonathan Byers.

Jonathan Byers… the guy who stole his girlfriend right out from under him.

“Look man, he’s too nervous to come to you directly, and I wouldn’t give a fuck about buying for him, but I know you still charge me the asshole tax-” Steve said, running his fingers through his oh-so-perfect hair and sighing as he turned back to Eddie with an even more determined look in his eye.

“You earned the asshole tax, Harrington,” Eddie cut in, a bit harsher than he meant to. Steve almost flinched back and Eddie bit his tongue before he could start ranting. He didn’t really care about Steve’s feelings, but he wasn’t looking to become one of the bullies that he constantly railed against.

Besides, he wanted answers, and he wouldn’t get those from antagonizing Steve past the point of conversation.

“Regardless,” Steve continued on, “I told him that I can’t keep floating the extra cash and he has to start buying from you directly.”

Steve had repeated that same point about five times in this conversation, but Eddie still didn’t get it. No matter how he tried to rearrange it, he just couldn’t make it make sense.

“So you, Steve “The Hair” Harrington, have been buying weed for Jonathan Byers, and you’re just paying the extra money that I charge you for your high school jock tendencies out of the goodness of your ever-so-loving heart?” Eddie asked rhetorically, raising a brow.

Steve nodded anyway and Eddie crossed his arms, his brow furrowing at the completely innocent expression on Steve’s face.

“Why?”

That was the question wasn’t it? What did Steve get out of all of this? Having something to hold over Jonathan couldn’t be worth that much, the asshole tax was a pretty big hike after all. Besides, Will was one of the kids he drove around town all the time.

Were they…friends? Was that even possible?

“Will you do it?” Steve asked, bluntly avoiding the question with a look that told Eddie he wasn’t getting any answers.

“He knows where the picnic table is and what my hours are,” Eddie answered, starting to get bored of the cryptic conversation, “You didn’t have to come here for all this.”

“Look, Jonathan’s been through a lot-”

“You’re telling me that?” Eddie said, a sharp laugh exploding from his chest at the hypocrisy of that statement. Unless he was forgetting, it was Harrington that had beat Jonathan’s face in two years ago, not him.

This time Steve actually did flinch back, his entire body on guard and defensive, coiled like a snake and ready to strike. Eddie was ready for a blow, a punch to the gut or a new black eye to sport for the next few weeks.

But it never came.

Harrington just…stood there, walls high as can be, obviously uneasy but unwilling to leave until he got what he had come here for. The vicious little joy he had gotten at finally landing a hit on the impervious King Steve was quickly waning the longer they just stood there, looking at each other, regret pressing down on the deep buried wounds Eddie hid in his chest.

He knew better than most how much it hurt to constantly have your own failures thrown back in your face.

“Are you done being a douchebag?” Steve asked quietly when the silence had gotten appropriately uncomfortable. Eddie jerked his head upwards in a nod and Steve sighed again, looking away and letting his eyes wander around the drama room rather than look at Eddie.

“All I’m askin’ is that you don’t overcharge him, and don’t do your whole scary demon leader thing. ‘Kay?”

“And I should listen to you, why?” Eddie asked, leaning back and sliding up to sit on the table, faux nonchalance dripping from every pore. He wasn’t looking to be too mean, not anymore, but it was still fun to watch Harrington squirm a little bit.

“Because if you don’t I’ll sic our mutual children on you, and, trust me, you don’t want to be on Will Byers’s shit list.” Steve said with a wry little grin, obviously thinking about all the ways the kids would make Eddie’s life hell if he said no. “By the way, they don’t know Jon smokes, so don’t tell them.”

“All sales are sacrosanct, as you know,” Eddie immediately responded, his personal code jumping out.

Eddie was a lot of things, but he was no snitch. Munsons never turned, never gave up anything that they had been given to hide, not even on the threat of death. His father was shitty for many, many, reasons, but Al had taught him at least one good thing.

“Why does Byers need so much weed anyway?” Eddie asked, trying to turn the conversation casual again, “I thought you were smoking like every night for those migraines the brats are always going on about.”

It was a completely normal thing to say, nothing sharp or biting in the slightest, but the second the words were out of his mouth, all of the blood drained from Steve’s face, and his hand immediately shot up to rub at the side of his neck. He even took a step back, needing extra space between them for some damn reason.

“Nah, I don’t um-” Steve took a deep shaking breath, looking like he had seen a monster. “Drugs aren’t really my thing anymore.”

Drugs weren’t his thing?

Even before the concussions, Harrington was one of Eddie’s top customers. And after getting his head bashed in, Steve was at the picnic table making weekly transactions, always for the same exact amount of product. They almost had it down to a science- 40 bucks, two baggies, have a nice day.

But something about the way Steve was holding himself- the hunched up shoulders and the way his eyes looked about a thousand miles away- it just felt bad.

There was pain there, deep, unnerving pain, and it made Eddie believe every word he was saying.

“After-” Steve cut himself off again, forcing another deep breath in, this one more steady. Eddie could almost physically see Steve put himself back together, the mask of aloof uncaring King Steve coming over his face in a way that was comforting in its familiarity, but disturbing in its motion.

“Drugs aren’t my thing anymore,” Steve repeated, voice sturdy and walls ten miles high.

“Okay, no worries,” Eddie said, unable to keep all of the gentleness out of his voice. He didn’t exactly want to treat Harrington like one of his lost sheep, but he couldn’t help the urge to protect that came over him any time he saw someone in need. “Uh- tell Byers to meet me on Tuesdays. I’ll- um- charge him the friends and family discount.”

Eddie never had a problem overcharging rich jerks from Loch Nora, but he could swing a bit of an income dip for another kid with one parent and way too many bills on the table.

“Tuesday and Friday,” Steve countered, like they were in a fricken tennis match.

“Tuesday and Friday it is,” Eddie agreed easily, hopping down from his spot and walking towards the door patting Steve twice on the shoulder as he passed him, enjoying the way it made the other boy jump.

Some things would just never change, and freaking out a jock was still one of life’s beautiful little pleasures.

The two of them walked out of the school in an amicable silence. They weren’t friends, Eddie could never imagine thinking of Steve like that, but they weren’t exactly enemies. Steve was no longer who he had been, if the kids were to be believed, but that didn’t matter much to Eddie. He had still been that person, and that was enough reason to dislike him.

Was there a word for that? A word for a person whom you no longer hated, but still didn’t really care to know? There had to be people in the world who had dealt with this particular issue.

Eddie was so deep in his thoughts that he barely noticed walking out the door and down the steps. He only realized they were at their destination when Steve broke away, turning and going in the opposite direction.

“Thanks,” Harrington called out with a toss of his hand over his shoulder, walking towards his lonely Beemer in the other corner of the parking lot.

“Oh yeah, sure,” Eddie muttered, still distracted by the question.

Eddie cared about the brats, he knew that. He was handing down the legacy of Hellfire to those hellions, and he knew they would do well. And the kids cared about Steve, for some inexplicable reason. Henderson was desperate to make them best friends for god's sake.

Well, best friends they would never be, but maybe an olive branch would push them towards something better. If Harrington was going to be in his life more, Eddie at least wanted it to be bearable.

“Hey Steve?” Eddie shouted from across the parking lot, catching Steve’s attention and making him turn around.

“If you- um- ever decide drugs are ‘your thing’ again, I’ll cut your asshole tax in half,” Eddie offered, feeling inexplicably embarrassed and trying to hide his blush behind his hair, “For Henderson, you know?”

“Just be nice to Jonathan, that’s all I’m askin’ for!” Steve shouted back.

Jonathan.

Eddie shook his head, jogging over to his van and fumbling for the keys, nearly dropping them as he went to unlock the door.

“Jonathan fucking Byers what are you bringing into my life?” Eddie mumbled to himself, already sure that this was going to lead to absolutely nothing good.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #NOT STEDDIE #sorry kings!#jeddie #Jonathan and Eddie?#idk how to tag this RIP #stranger things #st #st drabble #st4 #it's gonna be fun #sweetandspicyexchange

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tangledcharms · 3 months

Text

To love is to hold The final breath of the dying As I grapple with my own. To love is to know that I have escaped from the grasp of Death; and to continue loving is to do it all over again.

I have not known any will stronger than that of the scythe, but I have not met a soul gentler than yours. I have never been held within an embrace so strong that perhaps I am convinced I am loved, too. Through the years I have existed, I have only begun living when I met you.

For you, I would not die, but I would take up the scythe and cull just to see your smile. For you, I will walk through hellfire barefoot, twice back and forth; Still it does not compare to the blaze you have set in my heart.

— to ?

for @writeblrcafe valentine's exchange 🫶🏻

#wcsecretvalentine #mine #poetry #poets on tumblr #writeblr #writing event #love poem #i hope u'll like it @ receipient!!!!

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crimsonwing62 · 1 year

Text

Eddie Munson has this shirt and you can't tell me otherwise...

Steve and Eddie have been dating since spring of '85. They keep their relationship quiet with only Robin and Jeff knowing. Robin only knows because Eddie kept coming in to bug Steve during his shifts at Scoops Ahoy and they weren't exactly the best at being subtle. and Jeff is Eddie's best friend so he had to tell him.

Anyway Friday 14th February '86 is their first Valentines day together and for the first time ever Eddie cancels Hellfire that night. When he announces it the week before, it causes ruckus. All the boys start shouting, except for once, Dustin - the only one who can talk to his Girlfriend on Valentines day. But Eddie's word is final. No Hellfire Next Friday.

It comes to Valentines Night they have their date a candlelight dinner at Eddie's trailer, Steve cooked, they watched a movie and exchanged gifts.

"I know we said only get one present but I saw this and it was too funny to leave behind, so consider it a jokeish present and this other one as the serious present" Steve nervously rambled as he hands over the neatly wrapped square.

Eddie rips into the paper confused yet intrigued. He holds up the t-shirt to read it.

He giggles at it, an excited grin spreads across his face as he looks back at Steve.

"I love it" he already moving to kiss his awesome pretty boyfriend.

Steve's other present for him is a beautiful leather bound notebook since his other note book was running out of pages and falling apart. He wrote on the inside the front cover "Never stop writing, ~ S xxx 14/02/86"

Eddie gets Steve a keyring with a red and black D20 with only the number 20 visible. Steve's confused at first but Eddie explains that the D20 in DND is the decider dice, there's only a 5% chance to get the number you want, and the 20 is guaranteed success. The message clear: What are the chances we found each other in this cruel world? Inevitable.

To say the following weeks the t-shirt became a staple of Eddies wardrobe is an underestimate.

And if anyone notices the blush that Steve gets every time he sees Eddie in that shirt, no one says anything...

_______________________

TLDR: Steve got this for Eddie one year for Valentines day as a funny/joke present and Eddie wore it all the time after...

BTW the D20 gift idea isn't mine. I got it from a fic on A03 called "The Man I Could be" by Ohstars. it reimagines season 4 through the lens that Steve and Eddie date the Winter before Season 4 began but broke up at Christmas and then the aftermath of the battle with Vecna. Its cute, beautiful 100% worth every brain meltingly adorable moment...

#steve x eddie #steddie #pre season 4 #stranger things #stranger things headcanons #valentines day #cute #dungeon master #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #bisexual steve harrington #gay eddie munson #crimson68writes

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thelittlestspider · 4 months

Text

an excerpt from Friend You Can Keep that i wrote in one sitting wherein peter and ash are in their honeymoon phase, and matt extorts johnny in exchange for staying at his place.

“Johnny, I'm not kicking you out, but you have to crash somewhere else for a few days,” said Peter, matter of fact.

“Why?” asked Johnny, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Because if you don't, you won't get any sleep.”

Johnny blinked. Wait a minute. His eyes widened in understanding.

“So you and Ash?”

Peter smiled. “Yeah.”

His eyes were soft and his smile was dopey. Love looked good on him. Johnny was happy for him, even if his heart panged that he wasn't part of it.

“Y'know, if you guys ever need a third…” Johnny waggled his brows. He half-meant it as a joke, but to his surprise, Peter said, “We'd be happy to have you. But I kind of want him to myself for a while.”

“So you're not mad about me and Ash?” Johnny asked cautiously, afraid to upset this moment of gracious maturity from Peter. But like, he had to know everything was cool before he made any moves here. After all, what if Peter woke up tomorrow deciding to be a jealous maniac again? Though that angry stare was pretty sexy…

Peter looked thoughtful. “We talked about it some the other day.” He swished his coffee around. “Ash loves you, I love you.” Johnny's eyes went big with shock.

“You love me?”

“Yeah. I do.”

Tears welled up in Johnny's eyes as he stood up to kiss Peter, laughing with happiness as he wrapped his arms around his best friend. It was a terrible kiss. Mostly because they couldn't stop smiling. But Johnny wouldn't trade it for the world.

“I love you too,” Johnny said against Peter's cheek. “So, so much it's insane. God, I thought I'd never have this.”

“There's some stuff we need to talk about,” interrupted Peter. Uh oh. Johnny frowned. He didn't like the sound of that. That could mean literally anything.

“Like what?”

Play it cool, Johnny.

“Matt,” Peter said simply.

Johnny groaned, rolling his eyes heavenward.

“Oh my God, don't talk to me about Matt. The man's impossible!” Ugh, the nerve of that man, ruining yet another fine moment in Johnny's life. If the guy wasn't so damn miserable right now, Johnny'd curse him.

Why did everything have to come back to Matt? What did Peter see in him? Sure he was older and kind of sexy, and he had the whole Daredevil lawyer thing working for him, but he was also an asshole who wore grandpa sweaters and messed with Johnny every chance he got. It was like being picked on by an 80 year old grandpa in the body of a 38 year old acrobat.

Johnny could light himself on fire, but he was convinced Matt was actually made of hellfire.

“Uuuugh,” groaned Johnny.

“He's not that bad,” argued Peter.

Peter was blinded by love. He didn't know what he was talking about.

“He's insufferable.”

“You're also insufferable,” pointed out Peter, unhelpfully. Johnny glared at him. Peter stared back at him, unmoved. He sipped his coffee.

One, two, three.

“I guess,” Johnny ground out, “I can get along with Matt. For your sake.” Compromise sucked. Compromise was the enemy of the people.

“Good, because your options are your family, Matt, or Clint.”

Johnny's mouth dropped.

“You wouldn't.”

Peter smirked behind his mug.

“I would.”

Evil, sexy bastard. God, Johnny wanted to kill him. Maybe he could get Ash to run interference.

“Ash can't help you out of this.”

Damn it.

Johnny weighed his options. He could go stay with his family for a few days while Peter and Ash went through their honeymoon phase; con, he'd have zero privacy. Option 2: Clint. Natasha was on a job right now, so Clint might be lonely and appreciate the company. Con: Lucky and Liho wouldn't let him sleep.

Wade was out because of Valentine and Vanessa. Shit. Johnny scrunched his face. He was going to have to suck it up and call Matt.

“I take it back. I hate you.”

“Love you,” Peter said, sweetly.

Fuck his stupid life.

…

“Hey Matt,” started Johnny, already feeling awkward about this.

“Hi Johnny,” answered Matt. His voice was smooth and cool like water. Unbothered. Like Johnny calling was something that happened every day and they hadn't been mortal enemies for the past ten years. He was so weird. Johnny hated him.

“So I have a favor to ask,” Johnny inhaled through his nose, bracing himself. “I need to stay at your place for a few days.”

There was perfect silence on the other end. Matt was surprised. Then after a few moments Matt's stupid, smug voice asked, “What's in it for me?”

“Whadda mean, what's in it for you?” Johnny asked, feeling annoyance wash through him. “You want me to clean for you or something?” He didn't think Matt would be enthusiastic about it, but he didn't think Matt would be this much of an asshole about it either.

“You could help Foggy balance the books.”

“But that could take forever!”

“Take it or leave it.”

Ugh.

“Fine.”

“Then you've got a deal.”

“I hate you. Tell Foggy and Kirsten hi for me.”

That stung Matt a bit. He didn't answer. The dial tone sounded.

Wow, he hung up on him. Johnny didn't know what he expected.

#these hungry streets tag #ths: friend you can keep #ths: matt/johnny

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immortality-becomes-you · 2 months

Text

RUMORS•e. munson

masterlist

chapter 8

February 14, 1985

The next day came too quick. Ziggy had gotten a good night's sleep and felt energetic that Valentine's Day. As a matter of fact, she had completely forgotten that it was Valentine's Day until she had arrived at school and saw the heart shaped decorations. She had gotten up earlier than usual and styled her hair differently, pulling half of it back with a pretty barrette. Ziggy even put some lipgloss on to go with her pretty dress. Adrian had questioned her chipper attitude on the way to school, but Ziggy claimed it was due to the new semester starting.

She'd been keeping her head on a swivel all morning, hoping to see Eddie. Ziggy took extra long to exchange her books at her locker. As she held onto the metal door, scanning the hall, she caught sight of the girls huddled together laughing a few lockers down. She sent them a nervous glance, trying to look away before they noticed. Ziggy knew she had failed when Carol looked her up and down, sending her a judgmental look before elbowing one of the other girls in the side and pointing at her.

"So uh, I guess we don't even have to ask who your valentine is, right Ziggy?" The other girls giggled. Ziggy smiled nervously, pretending she knew what was so funny. Carol saw her confusion.

"You and Munson? Or is that more of a casual affair?" Ziggy's brows furrowed. She inhaled a shallow breath, blinking with a frown.

"What?" She shifted her feet uncomfortably as Tina snickered.

"There's no need to play dumb. Everyone knows he's screwing you. Danny saw you guys in his van last month." Tina explained like it was a casual conversation to have, but Ziggy could sense the teasing tone. Her ears began to burn in humiliation. Ziggy squeezed her locker door.

"Well, he lied. We never-"

"Oh, I get it, you put on the schoolgirl-valedictorian-goody two shoes-act and then whore around behind closed doors." The girls practically cackled with each other. Ziggy's eyes started to water as her throat closed up. Carol reeled herself in, sending Ziggy a sheepish look.

"Yeah, well, secrets out now." She shrugged before continuing to laugh with her friends. Ziggy inhaled a shaky breath, closing her locker and rushing down the hall. She refused to cry over something so silly. She was sure that they were making it up. By the time lunch came, she wasn't so sure.

Standing in line at the cafeteria, she caught wind of another conversation about her.

"Always took her for the freaky type, but Eddie? That's a new low."

"I'm sure it was just a fling type of deal. Those losers like to bounce around, you know? From what I heard, she fucked the whole club."

"Hellfire?"

"Hell yeah."

"Nah, I heard the club was gonna sacrifice her for their ritualistic shit. Munson banged her so she wasn't a virgin anymore. Kinda romantic if you think about it."

"Yeah, I heard that too, but the gangbang sounds more likely."

She couldn't listen anymore. She dropped her tray on the counter and left the lunchroom, holding back tears for the second time that day. 'So they weren't lying' she thought. It lead her to wonder how long people had been saying these things about her. All of the weird looks she had received in the past few days had started to make sense to her. So did the chuckles she heard when she and Eddie would talk in passing. They had all known about the rumors for a while, but now that people caught wind of her knowing they seemed to kick it up a notch.

Hawkins High had a booth set up on Valentines Day. Any student could walk up to the booth and write a Valentine to another student with a personalized message and they would be posted on their lockers. No one actually participated other than freshman, so when one was posted in a senior hallway, it caught people's attention. Ziggy went to her locker three times throughout her school day; before the first bell, after lunch, and when the school day had ended. When she had arrived at her locker there was a small group standing next to it, slapping each other on the arms and cackling wildly. She slowly stepped closer, avoiding the gazes of Tommy H. and Billy Hargrove. Instead, she kept her eyes trained on the red heart posted on her locker door. She held her breath until she was close enough to read the Valentine.

"Thanks for last night. Can't believe you swallowed it all - eddie"

Ziggy looked up at the paper with wide eyes, her mouth parting in shock. Her breathing picked up as her vision got blurry. Billy cleared his throat, stepping closer to whisper in her ear with a wicked grin.

"So, are you gonna move on to the basketball team next? Cause, I'd love to see if you could take all mine." Ziggy looked up at him in horror. Tommy scoffed, trying not to laugh at his lewd question. Billy stuck a toothpick in his mouth, leaning farther into the locker. Ziggy let out a sob, the tears finally falling as she scrambled to snatch the paper off of her locker. She turned on her heel and ran to get away from the group of boys. Just as she passed them, her body slammed into someone else's. She gasped, looking up to find Eddie looking down at her with a smile. He had caught her by the hips. His smile dropped as soon as he saw her horrified face. Tommy snickered into his hand, muttering a 'no way' into his fist.

"Woah, baby, what's wrong?" They laughed at his use of the nickname. Eddie looked up at their laughter, only now realizing that they were all watching them. Ziggy gasped, choking on her tears. She grasped the valentine tighter in her fist, sliding by Eddie and running down the hall and out of the door. Eddie followed after her, calling out her name as she turned a corner and found herself pacing in the small alleyway, holding her fists to her head as she sobbed. Eddie finally found her, running up and grabbing her by the shoulders to face him.

"Hey, what's going on? Talk to me." He carefully whispered over her sobs. Ziggy kept her eyes closed, shaking her head as she tried to pull away. Eddie pulled her in closer.

"Ziggy, please. Just tell me-" he trailed off, finally catching sight of the red paper crumpled in her fist. His brows furrowed.

"What's that?" He asked. Ziggy's sobs picked up, getting louder as she held the paper behind her back, shaking her head more.

"No! You cant-" her sobs cut off her sentence. Eddie's breathing picked up, reaching for it again as she tried to keep it from his view.

"Ziggy, please. Let me see. It's okay." He brought his hand up to hold her cheek. She stopped thrashing, giving him the chance to pull the paper from her hand. She turned her head, backing away from him and facing the wall as he unfolded it and read what was written. Eddie's mouth parted at the crude message.

"Where did you find this?" He read the paper over again, not believing he was reading it right. Ziggy didn't answer, still facing the wall. Eddie stalked up to her, turning her around again and holding her tightly by the shoulders.

"Ziggy, where did you find this?" His voice raised from a whisper to a normal talking volume, becoming more stern. She covered her face with her hands.

"They put it on my locker." She whined after she caught her breath enough to speak. Eddie shook his head with wide eyes.

"I didn't write this. Baby, look at me." He grabbed her hands, pulling them from her face so that she could finally open her eyes and look up at him. He shook his head again, not blinking as he took a step closer.

"I didn't write this." She nodded her head, her sobs turning silent.

"I know." She whispered. Eddie's face fell from its delicate and careful expression.

"What do you mean?" Her eyes started to fall again, but Eddie pulled her face up by her chin to keep her attention on him.

"They've been saying things about me." He blinked, shaking his head in confusion.

"What? Who?"

"Everybody!" She screamed.

"What are they saying?" Ziggy threw her head back with a cry. Eddie stroked his thumb over her jaw, rubbing his hand up and down her arm.

"I can't say it!" She sobbed so hard that he almost couldn't understand her. He pinched the paper in between his fingers.

"What, is it- is it stuff like this?" He held the paper up. Ziggy nodded.

"Stuff about us?" She nodded again. Her throat was getting dry from all of the crying but spit had formed between her lips and braces, stringing together when she opened them to gasp in a deep breath. He started to pull her in for a hug, but she planted her hands on his chest and held him there when something caught her eye.

"Eddie, what's that?" She whispered. His gaze followed hers, landing on the hickey she had given him the night before peeking out of his shirt. His breathing picked up in realization. Eddie looked down at her horrified face as a hand came up to cover her mouth.

"Oh my god!" She sobbed again, turning to walk out of the alleyway as Eddie scrambled to follow her. People had most certainly seen it. That was probably what had people talking extra that day.

"Baby, I didn't know." Eddie touched his hand to hers but she ripped it from his grasp.

"Stop calling me that! You're making it worse, Eddie!" She yelled, catching the attention of King Steve as he walked out to the track for practice. His presence caught the attention of Eddie, making Ziggy turn to look at him as well. Steve froze in his tracks, eyeing the pair up and down with raised eyebrows.

"Lovers quarrel?" He asked with an awkward chuckle. Ziggy's already beet red face fell in anger as she took a quick step towards him.

"Shut the hell up, Harrington!" She stormed past him with shaking hands, Eddie following behind her and sending Steve a scowl as he stood there in shock at her outburst.

Ziggy walked through the parking lot in search of Adrian. She spotted his car a few feet away and made a beeline for it, unable to ignore the odd stares she was getting. Eddie jogged behind her, catching her by the elbow and whispering in her ear.

"Ziggy, it's gonna be okay-"

"Eddie, I need you to leave me alone." She whispered back, refusing to look at him. He looked down at her in shock, loosening his grip enough for her to pull away from him.

The next day, Ziggy had shown up to school for the first hour, but went home early when the teasing hadn't let up. People did, in fact, see Eddie's hickey. She stayed home for a week. That was when Eddie decided to go to her house and check on her. Her mom had opened the door and sent Eddie a small smile in pity. She wasn't sure what had her daughter so worked up over the last week. All her son told her was that some kids at school had been making fun of her. She let Eddie in and told him that she was in her room, giving him the okay to go up and see her.

Eddie knocked on her door and waited for her to open it. When she finally did, he was taken aback by her state. She wore a long nightgown and her long hair fell down her back. He thought she looked absolutely beautiful. Despite this, she had bags around her eyes and her lips were chapped. She held the door with one hand, her face falling when she saw who was on the other side.

"Hey." He greeted, sending her a small smile. She gulped, not returning it.

"Hi." She mumbled, stepping to the side to let him in. He walked into her room, not bothering to look anywhere but her as she closed the door behind him.

"I wanted to check on you. I haven't seen you at school lately, so..." he trailed off. Ziggy nodded her head, holding her hands behind her back. He awkwardly cleared his throat.

"So, how've you been?" Ziggy looked up at him like he was ridiculous. He shook his head with a wince.

"Right, stupid question. My bad." He chuckled, trying to ease the tension. When she didn't chuckle with him, he took a step closer. He took her face in his hands, looking down at her intently.

"This will all blow over soon. I promise. Someone is gonna do some dumb shit and they're gonna forget all about it." He reassured. Ziggy looked up at him with uncertainty.

"What if it doesn't?" She whispered.

"It will." He repeated. Ziggy's eyes fell to his lips. He looked down at hers. Her hands reached up and squeezed his forearms. Ziggy's tongue ran across her lips.

"Eddie, I don't think we should be friends." She whispered.

"Me neither." He leaned in for a kiss, but Ziggy flinched back with a wince.

"I didn't mean it like that." She clarified. Eddie's brows furrowed.

"What do you mean?" Ziggy grabbed him by the wrists, pulling his hands from her face as her eyes started to water.

"I just, I think it would be best if we-" she was struggling to find the right words as she stared at the ground. She swallowed, looking back up at him with teary eyes.

"I don't think we should talk anymore." She said sternly. Eddie recoiled as if he had been betrayed.

"What are you doing?" He whispered, his eyes beginning to pool. Ziggy's breathing picked up.

"You know, with all of the rumors-"

"Ziggy, what are you doing?" His voice turned stern. Ziggy nearly groaned.

"Everything has gone to shit." Eddie took a step back, shaking his head.

"Because of gossip?" Ziggy scoffed.

"Yes!" Eddie squinted down at her, sucking his cheeks in anger. A tear rolled down his cheek, but he wiped it away quickly.

"So, the thought of people actually thinking that we slept together is so horrifying-"

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Don't act like this is the same for you as it is for me!" She yelled, pointing to her chest.

"They're calling me a whore, Eddie! You don't even know what they're saying about me! It's disgusting! I feel- I feel so dirty!" She broke out into a cry. Eddie's gaze softened, the reality setting in.

"You can't do this." Ziggy squeezed her eyes shut. She took a deep breath.

"I think you should leave."

"I love you, Niamh." He rushed out. Ziggy opened her eyes. She shook her head with a hurt expression. Eddie nodded his. His tears fell freely now.

"Stop." She whispered.

"I love you, Ziggy." He stepped closer, not daring to blink. Her chest heaved.

"Don't make this harder."

"I am gonna make this harder. I want this to be hard. I want it to be so hard that you change your mind and take it back because I am in love with you." He stepped closer, grabbing her face in his hands. She closed her eyes but he caressed her cheek, making her look up at him again. He pulled her in for a kiss. It was wet with spit and tears, but he put all of his energy into it. When they pulled away, Ziggy let out a small squeak, holding her cries in. They cried together, looking into each other's eyes in sadness.

"Go home, Eddie." She whispered. His brows pulled together as he held back a sob. He tilted his head, eyes glistening in the light from her bedside lamp as tears clouded his vision.

'I love you.' It was so quiet that it was basically only being mouthed, but he tried one last time. Ziggy finally let out a sob, shaking her head no. Eddie pulled back, dropping his hands from her face and letting out a sob as he turned to her door.

"Fuck this." He cried, pulling the door open and rushing down her stairs, leaving the house without saying goodbye. As soon as he was out of view, Ziggy let herself cry freely.

That was the last time they had seen each other. After she had attempted to return to school a handful of times and received the same treatment, it simmered down a little bit. The comments never completely stopped, though. Another challenge was avoiding Eddie at all costs. Eventually, Ziggy's parents had worked out a deal with the school, letting her stay home for the rest of the year and having Adrian bring her the work home. She missed out on in class activities and had been behind on her schoolwork, costing her the spot of valedictorian. Eventually she caught up enough to earn the title of salutatorian, but that wasn't what she had worked so tirelessly for.

Eddie had practically stopped doing his work all together. He had fallen so behind that the only way for him to pass was to get another tutor. For obvious reasons, he declined the offer. His lack of class credits made it impossible for him to pass the 1984-1985 school year, resulting in him being forced to take senior year for a third time.

Eddie had assumed that Ziggy moved off to college when he went a whole year without seeing her. The events of March, 1986 proved him wrong.

March, 1986

Eddie pulled Ziggy behind him as they snuck into Reefer Rick's house in search of food. They had split up; Ziggy on the hunt for something to eat while Eddie talked into the walkie talkie.

"Hey Dustin, this is Eddie the Banished. You there?" Ziggy rolled her eyes at the nickname. She pulled open the cupboards scanning the empty shelves and moving on.

"Dustin, can you hear me? Dustin?" Ziggy pulled a can of spaghetti-o's from the shelf, holding it up for Eddie to see and shaking it. Eddie read the label, sighing as he nodded his head in agreement.

"Hey, it's Nancy."

"Wheeler! Hey, uhm, we're gonna need a food delivery, like really soon. Unless, you want either of us going out into the world, which, doesn't sound like the greatest plan considering Jason attacked Ziggy yesterday." Ziggy sent him a glare.

'I was not attacked.' She whispered. Eddie sent her a knowing look. She heated up the can over the stove.

"No! No, Don't do that. Just, stay where you are and we'll be there as soon as we can." Nancy instructed through the walkie. Eddie stared out the window.

"Yeah, yeah...uhm, could you pick me up a six pack? I know, it's stupid as shit, drinking right now, but a cold beer would really-" Ziggy snatched the walkie from his hand. He sent her a wounded look.

"Absolutely not!" She demanded.

"Hey, you're not the boss of me. If Wheeler wants to get me a beer then she will." He snatched the device back from her, pressing the button and pleading into it.

"Wheeler! Wheeler?" Ziggy snickered, returning to the kitchen feeling satisfied with the lack of response on Nancy's end. Eddie groaned into his hand.

"You know, I really don't appreciate you sabotaging me in my time of need." He walked towards her slowly, tilting his head and squinting as he inched closer. Ziggy looked up at him through her lashes.

"You were sabotaging yourself." She shot back. Ziggy looked back down at the canned food, stirring it as she shook her head.

"Sometimes I really think you have no idea what's good for you." She jokingly mumbled. Eddie didn't seem to find it very funny. He leaned against the wall.

"You seem to think that you know what's best when it comes to most things. Even shit that you know nothing about." He bitterly responded. Ziggy's movements stopped as she stared down at the counter in thought. She dropped her spoon, turning to face him with a hand in her hip.

"What the hell is your problem? I thought we were beyond the passive aggressive remarks." She waved her hand around, glaring at him in anger. Eddie scoffed.

"Yeah, you obviously have a habit of not talking about things. Why would we be beyond anything when you won't have a conversation?"

"A conversation about what?!"

"Everything! The night in my van, in my room, the day you broke up with me-"

"We were never dating."

"Yeah, I know, Ziggy. That's the problem." He breathed heavily, not taking his eyes off of her. Ziggy stared up at him, not knowing what to say.

"I really, really wanted it to be enough. Me telling you how I felt, I mean." Eddie gulped. Ziggy dropped her hand from her hip, losing her brave face.

"Me too." She confessed.

"Did it even get better?" Ziggy frowned up at him. She shook her head.

"You know, I don't know what exactly you went through-"

"You're right, you don't." She cut him off. Ziggy licked her lips, taking a step closer.

"They said that you fucked me in your van. Someone else said that I slept with all of your friends too. They said I was 'stretched out'." She stepped closer. Eddie closed his eyes at the harsh words.

" Billy Hargrove said he wanted to see if I could handle him. I overheard a freshman say that you took my virginity so that your friends wouldn't be able to sell my soul to the Devil. A freshman, Eddie. Everybody was saying it. Everyone. What did they say to you?" Ziggy challenged. Eddie looked down, avoiding your gaze. He bit his lip.

"They said that you dumped my ass because I was a loser and dropped out of school so that you wouldn't have to see my face again." Ziggy squinted her eyes up at him, curling her lip in disdain.

"I don't see how that compares." Eddie chuckled dryly.

"Yeah, the difference is what they were saying about me was true." Ziggy's face softened with a defeated sigh.

"It's not true." He looked back up at her.

"Yeah, you can't dump someone you never dated, right?"

"Eddie-"

"You're gonna burn the food." Ziggy frustratedly moved the pot off of the stove.

"Do you wanna talk about it, or not?" Eddie rolled his eyes.

"I'm sorry for everything you went through. You didn't deserve that." Ziggy nodded.

"It wasn't fair for you to ask me to endure it just because you liked me." Eddie frowned down at her.

"I didn't like you; I was in love with you." He defended. Ziggy closed her eyes. Eddie licked his lips.

"You got over it, though!"

"Who said I was over you?!" Ziggy flinched at his confession. Eddie groaned softly, looking down with closed eyes. He was frustrated with himself.

"I'm sorry. It was selfish of me to ask that you deal with it, but I really thought that you felt the same way." Ziggy analyzed his face as he pinched the bridge of his nose. She felt conflicted.

"Who said that I didn't feel the same?" She whispered. Eddie's eyes fluttered from the floor to her face. She rubbed her nose.

"I'm sorry that things happened the way that they did, but i need you to know that I was so sure that I was doing the right thing."

"What about now?" She bit her lip in thought. He took a step closer, gauging her reaction.

"Now, I've got no clue." She pulled the drawer open, pulling out two spoons and handing one to Eddie.

#eddie munson #joseph quinn #stranger things 4 #stranger things #netflix #imagine #fanfic

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tryskomys · 2 years

Text

˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙ Abracadabra - part I ˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙

Eddie Munson one-shot

Summary: Before the jarring events of March 1986 hit The Hellfire Club, a more traditional evil disturbed their nerdy peace roughly a month prior - The Prom. Maia gets an unexpected invitation and gladly accepts, but Eddie is…well, Eddie about it.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

Notes: weehoo, another one-shot in the Psycho Killer universe! i mean, i planned it as a one-shot but it turned out to be too complex, so i’ll be splitting it into three parts! i’ve had this one up my sleeve for some time now, but i was a bit cautious because i’m very much european and don’t have knowledge about how proms work in america, but i’ve recently read a prom fanfic from @ambrossart (go read it asap!!) and it boosted me into giving it a shot, so here it is!

beware: high school (yes, that’s a trigger warning), very angsty, eddie is an asshole - what’s new?

Masterlist

songs:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

WOODLAND FAIRYTALE - PROM OF 86’

Valentine’s Day at the gym hall

You can’t miss this charming sight,

dancing on a Friday night!

The threatening sparkling green-and-purple posters planted on the walls of Hawkins High hallways were greeting Maia at every step as she made her way to her locker. She spotted Mike and Dustin standing in front of one of the monstrosities, chatting. She smiled and threw her books in, closed the locker and approached them, putting her arms around their shoulders. They jumped in surprise.

“Christ, you can’t keep sneaking up on us like that, you’ll give me a heart attack one day.” Dustin put his hand on his chest dramatically, but both of the boys grinned widely, happy to see their friend.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you were too preoccupied to see me coming. You plan on going?” she ruffled their hair, pointing at the colorful poster. Mike shrugged.

“I’m not sure, you know that my girlfriend is not here…” he mumbled, clearly deeply upset about the fact. Maia’s smile fell a bit as she nodded sympathetically, stroking his back. Dustin sighed.

“Same here. Unless Suzie’s teleporting here from Utah over the next two days, I don’t have a date.”

“Come on boys, it’s a once in a lifetime thing, you don’t have to come with a girl. You can’t miss that charming sight!” she cringed while pointing at the poster’s slogan, making the boys chuckle. Mike shook his head.

“If we go without a date, the whole fucking school will take us for- “

“Losers? Hate to break it to you boys, but…” she tilted her head and shrugged, eyeing them up and down and stopping at their Hellfire t-shirts.

“Touché…” Dustin mumbled and nodded his head, realizing that there isn’t much damage left to be done. Mike raised his eyebrows.

“Well, are you going?” he questioned and Maia’s eyes widened for a second before she composed back to her usual deadpan calmness.

“Nah, I don’t have a date…” she blurted out before realizing the hypocrisy of the situation and the boys exchanged an amused look. She violently shook her head to shut them up before they could say anything.

“That’s different.”

“No, it isn’t.” Dustin raised his eyebrows, flashing Maia his signature toothless smile.

“Why don’t you ask Eddie? We’re not in the 60’s, it’s not like a girl can’t ask a guy out.” Mike chimed in, nodding enthusiastically. Maia rolled her eyes and let out a sarcastic chuckle.

“Eddie going to prom? Did you fall on the head on your way to school?” she squinted at him, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead, gasping theatrically.

“I feel like you should go lay down, Wheeler. I think you have a fever.”

“Well, you haven’t asked him yet, so you can never know!”

Maia sighed and her face started growing red when she imagined Eddie all elegant in a tuxedo, the image so strange and alien to her that she had to physically shake her head to anchor herself back in reality.

“Hey, I get that you two entered high school with girlfriends and suddenly gained a feeling that you’re fucking geniuses of relationships or whatever. But I’ve already lived through two senior years of Edward Munson and the mere mention of prom made him gag and go on a rant full of his classic noncomformist shit both times. So don’t try to smart-mouth me.”

“Third time’s the charm?” Dustin shrugged and winced in advance, knowing that she’ll immediately give him a disarming scowl. She didn’t dissapoint and threw in a firm slap on the back of his head as well. Mike chewed on his cheeks to hide a smirk and then gasped, a lightbulb switching on in his head.

“Let’s go as friends then! The three of us! We’ll just hang around, eat some chips, listen to the music…maybe we can…you know…” his cheeks grew more and more red as he stumbled over his words, trying to articulate.

“…dance!” Dustin finished his friend’s sentence, blushing as well at the thought of the two self-proclaimed losers bringing a senior to the prom. Maia’s skeptical gaze softened and her smirk grew into a wide toothy grin.

“Am I dreaming or are my padawans asking me to prom?” she giggled, raising an eyebrow. Mike and Dustin exchanged a nervous look, meekly nodding.

“I mean, you don’t have to, it’s just an idea.” Mike shrugged, staring into the floor. He was shushed by a tight hug as Maia threw her arms around the two boys, squeezing them so hard they both let out a squeal.

“You’re so charmiiiiing, how could I say no to such gentlemen.” she smiled widely and pinched their blushing cheeks, making them grin as well.

“Okay then, I’ll go. But you gotta dress appropriately, yeah? I don’t wanna see any jeans or t-shirts.” she raised a threatening finger and put on her best motherly voice, walking next to them to the cafeteria.

・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● ●・○・●・

While the rest of the club was chatting and drowning in noise of the packed cafeteria, Eddie was lost in his thoughts, mindlessly chomping on the graham crackers that were on his food tray. Another prom, another opportunity to chicken out of asking her out. He hated the prom season and the reason that he gave everyone - it’s a pretentious priviledged shitshow - was just an excuse he was hiding behind.

In reality, it just reminded him of not only being a miserable loser, but also of being a coward. It’s just a sentence. Hell, it can be two words.

Hey, prom?

But no, he couldn’t bear the thought of Maia’s amused face when he’d try to ask her. He couldn’t bear the all the sarcasm. It wasn’t worth it. Did he try it? No, he had two opportunities, but he didn’t. And now the whole school was buzzing with the excitement again and he wasn’t going to risk it. Again.

“What’s up, boys?”

Maia’s voice made him softly gasp and flinch as he jumped out of his deep thoughts, which earned a chuckle from her.

“Guilty conscience, Munson?” she raised her eyebrow as she sat down next to him, Dustin and Mike filling the other empty seats at the Hellfire table. He just stared at her for a few seconds and gulped before scoffing and turning his attention back to the graham crackers.

“You won’t believe me, Anderson…but Sarah is going to prom with me.” Gareth exclaimed with a smug face and Maia’s jaw dropped.

“Sarah Grayson?”

“Yup.”

“Woah, what a fucking heartbreaker! Way to go, pal.” she giggled and gave him a fistbump, but Jeff snorted with laughter.

“Yeah, but you haven’t heard what followed her yes.” he shrugged and took a swig of his chocolate milk. Gareth rolled his eyes.

“Okay, she said that she’ll come only if I pay for it, but that doesn’t undermine my success.”

“I’m proud of you, don’t listen to the haters. In fact, if you’re so snarky, Jeff…an essential question rises - who’s your date?” she squinted at her amused friend, who just shrugged.

“I’m going with Pete. I’m non-traditional, what can I say.”

“We’re just stopping by to eat as much as we can for free, then we dip to get shitfaced somewhere else.” Pete scoffed and got back to picking the corn out of his risotto, not wanting to have anything to do with this conversation.

“You coming, Anderson?” Gareth mumbled as he wiped his chocolate moustache. Maia smiled widely and cracked her knuckles.

“Actually, I am! I have a date, too.” she said nonchalantly and all the boys looked at her with shocked expressions. Dustin and Mike grinned while stuffing their mouths with bread, their chests proudly puffed out.

Eddie’s head snapped in her direction, she caught his gaze for a second and if she didn’t know better, she could’ve sworn she saw a glint of dissapointment in his eyes. She coughed and looked back to her food, waiting for the questions to start bombarding her. She was showered with a wave of whats and whos and she just grinned, giving the two freshmen a mischievous side-eye.

“Well, since you ask…I have not one, but two handsome escorts accompanying me.” she stated without much emotion, waiting for them to put the pieces together. The guys frowned for a second and then it hit them.

The gasping and squealing actually reminded her of a scene she saw in the hallway earlier, when a pack of cheerleaders gathered around their friend after she told them that Patrick from the Tigers asked her out. She giggled as Pete slapped Dustin’s back so hard he made the boy spill a bit of the milk he was holding.

“Holy shit, you’ve been in high school for one semester and you scored a senior as a prom date? Teach me your secrets!” Gareth gasped and shook his head. Jeff beckoned to them with his drink.

“My compliments, I never thought I’d see the day when the cold Lady Macbeth agrees to a date.” he chuckled and took a sip, the youngsters giggling excitedly. As they were chatting, Maia stole a look at Eddie, who was silently chewing on his lunch with an unreadable expression, eyes set on the table.

Is he angry? She wanted to say something, maybe reach out to him, but that idea flew out of her head when he caught her staring, her face immediately filling with a burning blush as she got back to eating.

“What about you, Eddie?” Mike suddenly asked with hope in his voice, which made Maia flinch a bit and close her eyes as she could sense that Eddie wasn’t in a mood for chit-chatting.

“What about me?” he mumbled with his mouth full of rice, not even bothering to look at Mike. Maia turned at the younger boy and shook her head ever so slightly, trying to discourage him from testing Eddie’s thin patience. Mike didn’t get the memo.

“Are you coming?”

Eddie looked up from his food, his eyebrows raised as far as they could go and eyes grilling the freshman. Mike winced a bit.

“You can join the three of us if you want!” he mumbled with a wishful smile but it quickly faded as Eddie swallowed his food and got up from his chair, his movements painfully slow. He leaned on the table and squinted at Mike, tilting his head.

“Tempting, but no.”

Sarcasm seeped out of his words as he took his tray, carried it away to the tray cart and then walked out of the cafeteria without another word. The table sat in silence, exchanging dumbfounded faces.

“Looks like Sleeping Beauty slept on the trailer floor last night.” Pete snorted with laughter and shook his head as they all got back to eating. Maia was still staring at his empty chair, confused by his theatrics.

What the hell was that?

・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● ●・○・●・

Eddie was on edge the whole night and he projected his mood onto the game. The session had to be moved to this evening, because the usual Friday night was occupied by the prom. Usually, he was a very professional dungeon master, keeping his emotions out of the game so he could be as righteous and neutral as possible.

Today was different. He wasn’t even sure what got him so fired up, maybe the fact that the two freshmen had more confidence than him to ask Maia out. Maybe he was mad that she didn’t think about going with him when she agreed to it.

Nonetheless, he was taking it out on the party.

“Can I, like, investigate all the shit they left behind? All the herbs and stuff, maybe search for some remnants of black magic, rituals, anything…” Maia stared at him through narrowed eyes, completely fed up with his behaviour.

The rest of the group seemed not to notice as much, probably thinking that the difficulty of their previous encounter was a natural part of the story’s progression, but she was cursed with some sort of Eddie radar that started heating her chest up every time he was acting like a little bitch. He didn’t even look at her when she asked, just emotionlessly reading his notes.

“You can try. Throw me an Arcana check.” he mumbled and she sighed, shaking the d20 in her hand before throwing it in front of her. She carefully looked through all her stats, making sure she’s armed with as big of a number as possible.

“22.”

He was silent for a few moments, still staring into his notes. Then he quickly looked her up and down and cleared his throat before dissapearing behind his screen again.

“Not enough, you’re still clueless.”

“The fuck? How is that not enough? What number does a fucking necromancer have to hit to recognize the traces of an eldritch ritual?” Maia frowned and chuckled breathlessly, shaking her head. He didn’t move a muscle, just scribbled something in his notebook.

“Stop arguing with me. Try harder next time.”

The rest of the boys awkwardly shifted in their seats and looked at each other, the tension between the two opposite sides of the table suddenly settling in every nook of the room. Maia blinked a few times and raised her eyebrows, but her challenging look was met with a brick wall. Then the brick wall spoke in an equally blank voice.

“Anyone else wanna investigate?” he looked around the table and Dustin awkwardly shrugged, studying his nest of dice. No one seemed to have any desire to follow Maia’s attempt, so Eddie nodded and ominously rolled a dice behind his screen.

“‘Kay, let’s call it quits here, we’ll continue next time.” he looked up and nodded, frowning a bit when Jeff hesitantly raised his hand.

“Sorry, but shouldn’t we level up? I mean, the fight was pretty huge…” he meekly questioned, the group joining him with nods. Eddie blinked and then moved his attention back to his notes.

“No.” he simply stated and that was enough to dissolve any thoughts of complaining from the party. They just silently nodded and packed their stuff, leaving the theatre room with silent greetings.

Maia wasn’t planning on going anywhere, though. Not until he apologizes. He knew she was still sitting in her place, piercing him with a scolding stare. He didn’t look up at her, he was focusing on folding his screen and annotating his DM guide.

“What the fuck was that supposed to be?” she hissed at him, but he didn’t pay her any attention. She exhaled sharply and banged her fist on the table.

“Look at me, you prick.”

He didn’t flinch at the noise, he just calmly raised his head and looked at her, still keeping his face emotionless.

“I asked you a question.” she said through gritted teeth, growing more and more angry with every second spent looking into his stupidly huge and stupidly brown eyes.

“I don’t know what’s your problem.” he shrugged and leaned on the table. She chuckled darkly and stood up, mirroring his stance.

“You’re my problem, Munson. What’s gotten into you?” she raised her voice slightly, his clueless act pissing her off even more.

“Nothing, you were just out of luck today, that’s all. Anyway…” he checked his watch nonchalantly, “…you should get going, you wanna in get that beauty sleep before the big night.”

Oh.

“Are you fucking joking? That’s what’s going on? You’re angry that I’m going to prom, is that it?” she punctuated the sentence with a harsh laugh, which finally seemed to trigger an emotion in him.

“You think my ego is so fragile to give a shit about a fucking prom? I’m hurt, Anderson.” he raised his voice a bit as well and snickered, his forearms flexing as he gripped the edges of the table tighter.

Her gaze quickly flickered between his face and the exposed skin and she damned her body for shivering.

“If you don’t then what’s this tragicomedy about, huh? You’re pissed that two fresh-faced boys asked me out to prom when you didn’t have the balls to do it for three fucking years in a row?” she barked out, her harsh tone making Eddie flinch ever so slightly, his knuckles white around the table edge.

“I didn’t ask you because I never thought you’d be shallow enough to go.”

The venomous exclamation hung in the air for a few seconds before dropping down on Maia’s head like a bucket of freezing water. She slowly let go of the table and stumbled back a bit, her jaw hanging open in shock. She chuckled, shaking her head as she looked down at her notes.

Without a word, she started shoving them into her backpack unceremoniously. He was frozen in his spot, blinking away tears that started prickling in his eyes upon realizing that there’s nothing to say, nothing that would erase his stupid heartless remark.

When she packed all her stuff, she threw her backpack on and stopped for a second, thinking. Then she walked right up to him, making him turn around and look into her eyes - darkly swirling with pain and fury.

He sucessfully blinked the tears away while she was rummaging in her bag and hid the regret deep behind an emotionless veil that now shrouded his pupils. After holding his gaze for a few seconds, she scoffed and forcefully pushed his chest with her fists, destabilizing his proud posture.

“Fucking coward.”

And with that, she was out of the door, leaving him to crumble down on his throne.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

Tag list: @kik51199 @preciousbabypeter @sebby-staan @sleepysl0th03 @frozenhuntress67

#eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things 4 #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #stranger things #stranger things oc

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amistytown · 1 year

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Hi love! what are you and Leviathan doing for Valentines Day? 💜

-@levi4thans

Gray 😊💕 Thank you so much for asking!!! I hope you’re having a wonderful day.

Okay, so I’m too excited and at midnight I surprise Levi with Valentine’s Day gifts. I ask him to come to my room where I put everything out on display. I’m a gift giver (friends, family, etc) and probably go overboard. There’s balloons, sweets, plushies, and one of the games he wanted that came out recently. I want to spoil him and show him how much I love him, and he’s overwhelmed but happy even if it screams normie. He’s flustered, speechless even, and there’s a comfortable silence as we stand there holding each other.

He spends the night in my room playing the game I bought him on his handheld console, and I watch, while we cuddle in bed. We stay up late ❤️

We're huge nerds and have a TSL-themed Valentine's Day 🥺 I cosplay as Henry and Leviathan as the Lord of Shadow, of course; costumes made by Levi (maybe they're special variants or event only costumes to make the day even more special hehehe.) And we'll use any excuse to dress up, especially as our favorite characters!

While we're both nervous, we're excited and have been looking forward to spending the day together. Once we’re awake, we take some time apart to get ready. I will meet Levi at his room where I will kneel before him as he opens the door to present him a lovely bouquet of roses.

"For you, My Lord." 🥰

He gifts me flowers too. We’re both blushing as we admire them and each other.

We spend the first half of the day in the Devildom, stopping by a café for breakfast and coffee; maybe the café whose owner is a huge TSL fan or a character café Levi is interested in. Either way, we have a nice time because we’re together and the rest of the world melts away. There’s plenty of selfies to be taken; a few for Devilgram, but most for our eyes only and one to use as a wallpaper for our D.D.D.s.

It’s a special day, but we do a lot we would normally as well, like stop by Anidaemon and play some Mononoke Land along the way! Later in the afternoon we karaoke. Though it’s mainly Levi singing, me cheering him on, but we do a few duets, and then he works up the courage to serenade me despite being very embarrassed afterward lol; I make sure to give him a big hug and kiss to show my appreciation.

Before we head home we give chocolates we made the day before to his brothers, everyone at Purgatory Hall, and Diavolo and Barbatos!

Back at the House of Lamentation we hog the kitchen making a lovely dinner from the official TSL cookbook hehehe. We have a lot of fun cooking together. It’s a very lighthearted but intimate moment. His brothers take the time to tease us, especially Leviathan, and his face is bright red by the end of it; we have to make sure Beel doesn’t eat what we make while we’re not looking too.

It’s not fancy, but it’s all made with love!!! We just eat and hangout in Levi’s room having a TSL marathon. After dinner we exchange chocolates and Valentine’s Day cards we made for each other. Levi’s look better than mine, but he says the chocolate I gave him is the best he’s ever tasted. There’s a lot more hand holding, hugging, and cuddling. Shy glances and red faces. Soft kisses that make us smile and laugh.

There’s Demonus laced with Gold Hellfire Newt Syrup; it’s based off Dragon Fog from TSL so it’s a perfect addition to dinner, and it gives Levi a bit more courage. It’s then Levi admits he commissioned us special TSL themed jewelry that he was almost too shy to show me. It’s a lovely night ✨

Again, we stay up until the early hours of the morning watching anime and playing games or just cuddling in his tub enjoying each other’s company, happy to have one another in our lives. Just two dorks having a good time.

The next morning we sleep in and hide away in his room to recharge. We order Devil Donuts through Akuber and chill 😊❤️❤️❤️

@levi4thans

#ahhh is this too cringe to post?!#me #asks

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hellfirexchange · 1 year

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Valentine's gift exchange

The collection on AO3 for the fics, art and videos created for the Hellfire Valentine's Gift Exchange!

#valentine's exchange #hellfire valentines exchange #valentines #harringrove #mungrove #steddie #royalcourt #cheerscoops

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obeymedreams · 3 years

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Sweet as You

Author’s notes: I’m salty that the event will not give me Lucifer and Luke’s card so instead I’m replacing it with sweet headcanons about the essence of the datables’ kisses and what chocolates you’d give, plus a little bit about how you and Luke teamed up to make them!

Content warning: food, chocolate, candy

Length: 2.4 K

Lucifer

You make a coffee bonbon for Lucifer. The shell is dark chocolate with two streaks of colour painted on—one in your favourite colour and another in his. The filling is an espresso ganache that highlights the bitterness of chocolate and coffee while ensuring the bonbon is never too sweet

Lucifer is both impressed with the flavour and the obvious care you’ve put into crafting this confection. He offers to prepare some drinks so you two can enjoy the chocolate together

Kissing Lucifer is being swept up in each other. It feels like passing by each other in castle walls, then hiding behind pillar to exchange impassioned kisses and whispers of love. The world might be continuing around you, but in that moment only the two of you matter

Lucifer feels clarity when kissing you. Everything else melts away and all that is left is the feeling of your lips and the warmth of your love. Your kisses contain an oasis and Lucifer finally feels like he can relax

Mammon

Mammon gets a fancy gold leaf bonbon that has a glossy shine. And to his delight you’ve gifted him liquor chocolate filled with an expensive Demonus that’s all the rage lately

Naturally, Mammon enjoys the chocolates because they’re fancy. However, the real reason he adores them is that they are proof that, to you, he is someone worth splurging on in both effort and money

Kisses with Mammon are messy and unexpected yet both of you feel like you’ve waited forever for this. The first taste of you isn’t enough, and Mammon becomes addicted pretty quickly. It’s a rush, like betting on a rolling dice or a flip of a card while on a winning streak. He feels like he’s losing all good sense yet so sure this is the right decision

His love for you is neither neat nor compartmentalized and neither are his kisses. It’s bubbling affection that he just can’t contain anymore. No matter how many lies he verbalizes, the blush on his visage and the way he greedily steals kiss after kiss says enough

Levi

You craft a chocolate treat based of a scene in TSL! There was a cute scene between Henry and the Lord of the Shadows where they eat chocolates, sharing one last sweet moment before having to part. You decide to recreate it by creating milk chocolate bonbons with a salted caramel filling, making sure to use a mold which creates the right shape!

Levi is floored. He knows EXACTLY which scene these chocolates are from, down to the page and line numbers. He simply gawks for a while and then proceeds to basically have a photoshoot. When he finally takes a bite, you can see the way his face lights up and it’s worth all the effort

Kisses with Levi are an adventure with ups and downs, bumps in the road, but a treasure chest at the end. When you first kiss him, he’s a blushing mess with brain working overtime to suppress his fight or flight instinct. But in spite of himself, Levi leans in and trusts you because no one treats him with this tenderness

His world is still small, aside from his brothers and Lotan, everything he loves could probably be contained in his room. But your kisses expand his horizons and maybe he thinks it’d be worth it to explore the world a little more, even if it leaves him vulnerable

Satan

You make Satan a combination of brigadeiros and mint discs for Valentine’s day! He enjoys that you’ve made chocolate confections but veered outside the classic bonbons. Satan likes the soft and chewy textures of the brigadeiros in contrast with the crunchy sprinkles and the unique texture of sugared mint atop dark chocolate discs

Satan happily opens the box of chocolate. He admires them for a bit and compliments you on their appearance before popping one in his mouth. He feels both loved and a little smug, Satan knows a bit about chocolate confections, enough that he’s certain you’ve put quite a bit of effort into this, which makes it all the more sweet

Lay on compliments about how he’s just as sweet as the chocolate, perhaps referencing a book he’s reading, and how all that work was worth it for his sake and you might get him blushing

Kisses with Satan are like browsing a library—the nostalgic smell of old books combined with excitement of discovering new worlds contained in pages. You’ve had more kisses with Satan than you can count, but even with that familiarity, you feel like you’re uncovering something new each time your lips meet

Asmo

Asmo knows the value of appearance so you ensure your chocolates look just as good as they taste. You make white chocolate disc in the shape of hearts and adorn them with sugared petals. Additionally, you create passionfruit bonbons with cute heart indents which look picture perfect.

Asmo takes a selfie with you while you each hold a chocolate confection. Sweets for your sweetheart!~ It’s cute.

But then you bring up how you chose passionfruit for its refreshing taste, so its easy to continually eat the chocolates, because just like the bonbons you’ll never get sick of him! It’s such a small detail but it warms his heart and suddenly you’re trapped in a hug

Asmo’s kisses don’t neatly fit into any single category. He is sweet, masterful and practiced, playful and lets you take the lead, but he is always sincere in his affection to you. Kisses are one of many ways to reaffirm your love

His kisses are like eating an assorted box of chocolates. One kiss is light and flirty, the next is sensual and stroking desire, then another which is teasing and light while interspersed with giggles. Yet all of them leave you with a sweet feeling

Beel

You make Beel a big pile of semi-sweet chocolate bark with variety of toppings, one has freeze dried raspberries, another has almonds, some use hellfire peppers, it’s a whole buffet

Beel plants a kiss on your forehead and thanks you so much for the gift! He begins to dig in to the treats you’ve made and has an endearing content grin the entire time he wolfs the chocolate down. He does his best to remember to offer you a bite too!

Many of Beel’s kisses start off as innocent fondness and true devotion. He loves you and you can feel it in the way he holds you close to him and devours all the affection you give.

But many of his kisses turn hungry, because he can never get enough of you, the taste of your lips, your sweet moans, the way your hands roam, the puffs of hot breaths, they all never fail to leave him wanting more. His kisses feel satisfying and fulfilling, because you get to indulge to your heart’s content

Belphie

You make Belphie coconut oil chocolates! They’re so easy to eat, he doesn’t even need to chew. You have to be careful to not melt them when making and handle the individual morsels, but it’s worth it all in the end

You surprise him by popping the chocolate into his mouth! You’re lucky he trusts you, if it was anyone else he’d probably have spit it out. It’s easy to bite through and melts to spread a pleasant chocolate taste across his mouth.

Probably muttered something under his breath, but he makes sure to thank you for the gift too, even if he is a little blasé about it. At least these ones aren’t dusty

Belphie’s kisses are lazy little things with missed lips and little laughs, huffs of air, and that smirk that makes you want to kiss him stupid until he can’t pretend to be relaxed. Random pecks in the morning, between naps, before bed, but if you ever ask why, the answer is “just because”

Occasionally your kisses are salvation and desperation. No life, no relationship, no person is without turbulence. Your hot breaths prove you’re alive and breathing, the love your pour into him as your lips meet prove he is worthy of affection, and he doesn’t intend to let go

Diavolo

You make Diavolo white chocolate matcha bonbons! The inside is filled with a smooth matcha ganache that’s a brilliant shade of green. The shells are painted with the rough silhouette of your favourite flower. The matcha flavour helps balance out the sweetness of the white chocolate, making a delicious treat

Diavolo is delighted by the gift and compliments the taste! But he also enjoys the story that goes with it when you tell him your thought process, how matcha has become popular across the world in the human realm, and what human traditions are attached to the gifting of chocolates

He’s already plotting what he wants to give you in return, but for now he’ll enjoy your heart felt confection while making sure to give you a piece

Kisses with Diavolo are like fireworks. No matter how many times you see them, they never lose their brilliance. Even if they aren’t always in the sky, they bring you joy each time you see their bright colours and sparkling streaks

Diavolo intends to indulge you in kisses. Even the short ones, before meetings, after class, the domesticity tickles his heart. But Diavolo’s preference leans to long kisses where the two of you meld together. Everything is you, your unique scent, the way his name leaves your mouth, the way you hold onto him, your taste alone makes him want to dive deeper

And why stop at one kiss? He should have another for good measure, maybe two, three, four—well now there’s no point counting so you might as well continue

Barbatos

You make strawberry shortcake inspired chocolates for Barbatos. The bonbon shell is made with ruby chocolate with the filling consisting of whipped white chocolate ganache and strawberry preserves.

The several components merge together to make a sweet dessert and Barbatos appreciates how you use the novel ruby cocoa. Barbatos out of everyone knows how much work must have gone to create these bonbons and makes sure to both savour it and compliment you

Kisses with Barbatos are like sharing a secret. You get special access to a gateway into him, and in these kisses you create a special place just for the two of you

His kisses are almost dangerously good, you swear kissing didn’t always feel this good. But his intensity, the way it’s only the two of you, the mere privilege it is to have him whisper sweet words between gilded kisses, it makes it worth all the wait

Simeon

You make Simeon earl grey tea truffles! You coat the truffles with milk chocolate to create an easy to hold shell. Then you have stripes of dyed white chocolate — one in your favourite colour and another in his.

Simeon thinks it’s adorable at how your chocolates have become a matching couple item with the coloured stripes. He thinks it’s lovely how you made him tea flavoured chocolate, given how many fond memories the two of you have which centre around a cup of tea

Simeon kisses make you feel treasured. He peppers your face is soft kisses, he cups your cheek gently, and the adoration in his eyes almost overwhelms your heart

His love is all encompassing and you’ve never felt safer than when you’re in his arms. Beautiful lashes fan his cheeks, contended sighs, and underlying warmth. Simeon feels like home and with his kisses, you’re falling in love again

Solomon

You know Solomon likes cupcakes and poisoned apples so you decide to combine the two! You make him an apple cakepop coated in coloured white chocolate to look like a poisoned apple!

Unlike his cooking, your sweet tastes delicious and leaves the eater happy. You make sure to use granny smith apples to retain some tartness and Solomon happily eats the confection.

Unfortunately, your sweetheart has also made sweets to express his love for you. Don’t let Solomon give you chocolates back or use a trick to dispose of them! It is not romantic to spend the day puking or sick in bed. Or hey, maybe true love is eating it knowing that it spells out nothing less than doom

Kisses with Solomon feel like an exploration. You get to know him bit by bit and each kiss feels like proof he is wiling to vulnerable with you. Some trips result in airy kisses, others feel like rocky days at sea filled with passion and you’re in danger of running out of breath, it’s always an adventure

Sometimes, you swear you can feel his lips form a smug smile. Other times, he approaches you so gently and the touch of hesitancy, like he can’t really believe he got you, makes you want to shower him with enough love to wash away all doubt. He holds you tight, to him you are warmth and intimacy, and he never wants to let go

Bonus: Making Chocolates with Luke

When making chocolates with Luke, it is best to be sweet with him, guide the angel with soft suggestions without sounding like you’re babying him. Generally, Luke is pretty amendable but he can have a stubborn streak if he feels like he has something to prove

He makes for chocolate confections for Barbatos, Simeon, Micheal, Solomon and you! It’s so cute to see him so excited when he thinks about how happy everyone will be when they receive the gift

You two go through many spoons to check if the chocolate is tempered, rapidly tapping the chocolate to see if it has that snap and sighing when it blooms

By the end of it, you two are a mess with chocolate smears on your apron, but you have nice assortment of shiny chocolate sweets

#obey me x reader #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me diavolo x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me levi x reader #obey me asmo x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me belphie x reader #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me simeon x reader #obey me solomon x reader #obey me luke #obey me luke & reader #lucid dreams #cw.food #cw.chocolate

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storiesofwildfire · 4 years

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@ofcharredbones said: Grand gestures made specifically for a commercialized holiday is stupid. He's said it before and he'll say it again, but it doesn't stop him from cooking up something every year. This time, Johnny took Loki out of the city for a midnight picnic in a forested area by the mountains. The night sky was incredibly clear here, bearing many stars for them to admire as they sat on a thick blanket. Talking softly as they ate and drank; telling each other stories. His were of his blurry childhood, the happier times he could recall. Places his father's carnival traveled to, all the interesting things he saw and all the mischief he got into- usually by ways of fireworks he stole from the carnival's stockpile. It wasn't a physical gift, but he thought maybe this romantic getaway would be enough, although, Johnny had one more surprise. “Hey, watch this,” he stands suddenly and his human visage melts away to the Rider’s. Hellfire dances along talons before gathering against his palm; swirling and alive. He grips it tight, then hurls it up into the air. It looks like a comet as it soars higher and higher...until it goes off. Fills the sky with something akin to fireworks- a beautiful display of reds, oranges, and golds dancing together and continuing even minutes after. As the concentrated energy dissipates, the lights dim and vanish slowly like dying stars. It’s nice, even then, Johnny thinks. “Happy Valentine’s Day, darling.” His glee doesn’t translate well in his Rider form; any expression really, but he hopes the warmth and adoration in his voice is enough, “I love you.”

random asks -- status; always accepting

♔—- After the years they’d been together, Loki could definitely give Johnny credit where credit was due. Despite being rather rough around the edges and with enough emotional baggage to almost match Loki’s, Johnny was always an attentive partner. He sometimes had difficulty expressing his feelings and didn’t always like falling into the romantic traps of cheesy holidays, but he always went out of his way to make Loki feel special. It wasn’t just reserved for special occasions either. Even if they didn’t go on lavish dates every time they were together, his partner did always do something to welcome Loki home.

Yes, home.

Loki might have been the king of Asgard and the protector of the Nine Realms, but Asgard didn’t feel much like home. The palace didn’t feel like home anymore--if it ever did, truly. Loki ever really felt at home when he came back to Midgard to see their... boyfriend? That term didn’t feel right, though they supposed on a technical level, it was accurate. They never really lingered on their title or what they would like to be in the future, they always just seemed so happy to be in one another’s company.

Boyfriend just didn’t seem to cover it, though. Johnny was so much more than that by now. So much more than some juvenile term could ever describe. Loki never anticipated it, never expected to fall in love. Gods, when they met Johnny, that hadn’t exactly been in the best place mentally to even think about a serious relationship, but somewhere along the way, amusement and mutual attraction turned to lust, and that lust turned into something far more serious than even Loki could have hoped to anticipate for.

And eventually, love... As absolutely mushy as that sounds.

The trip out of town was a pleasant surprise. Loki knew this visit would include Valentine’s Day, a horrible cliche holiday that mortals liked to harp on as an excuse to go on expensive dates and buy one another useless and overprices trinkets, flowers that would die in the course of a week, and mediocre chocolates in a heartshaped box. Johnny never went to the extreme with his cliches, often showing an open distaste for the over the top focus on the day, but he always did plan something. A little gift of some sort, a date. Sometimes he’d go out of his way to cook for Loki and dazzle them with baked goods. Sometimes the romantic evening hyperfocused on something rather R-rated--which was sort of what Loki anticipated as they made their way out into the woods.

Rather than strip under the moonlight and fuck like a couple of rabid animals, though, they shared snacks and finger foods, exchanged lighthearted stories about their past and some of the things they loved to do. Loki shared some stories of when the triplets were young and how Jörmungandr had grown so massive even as a small child that he could coil himself all the way around Loki’s body. The serpent was definitely nothing short of a hugger, he just sometimes squeezed too hard.

Loki even suggested going to visit Jor and Fenrir. After becoming king, Loki lifted their banishments and imprisonment and Fenrir immediately took to living with his brother here on Midgard. They were more or less inseparable, and given how long Fenrir spent in isolation, Loki was more than delighted to see that his brother was so willing to help him settle and adjust to life after the trauma.

But Loki didn’t let any negative thoughts invade their mind or leave their mouth. Not tonight. It was too peaceful of an evening, too lovely of a night, and the last thing they wanted to do was ruin the mood by bringing up something sad. Instead, their magic pulsated invisibly around them in content, wrapping the space they occupied in Loki’s energy. While it couldn’t be seen, it could definitely be felt and it passed a warm, fuzzy feeling, almost like the joy of sunlight dancing across one’s skin to warm without burning or causing discomfort. It was almost as if Loki’s seidr responded to their enjoyment of the evening. In truth, that’s exactly what was happening, and as Johnny finally decided to shift to his Rider form, Loki’s magic coiled throw the energy that radiated off the rider, blending at the seams so it was almost difficult to tell where Johnny’s power ended and Loki’s began.

The personal comet display truly did take Loki’s breath away, though. Not much did that anymore. Living for centuries upon endless centuries and encountering such a wide range of creatures, places, and abilities kind of took some of the surprise out of most things, but Loki watched the comet break apart into beautiful shades of gold and red as if they’d never seen the colors before.

That certainly beat the Hel out of the homemade desserts Loki made and brought from Asgard for them to share, though they were all delicious and they were all mostly different from things available on Midgard.

“You really are growing more and more advanced in your abilities, Johnny,” Loki murmured as the last bits of falling star finally died out. “Every time you show me something new, I’m even more impressed than I was the time before. You’ve really come into your own and you can bring such beauty to the world... It’s a real honor to see you blossom and even take pride in what you can do.”

As they spoke, they shifted across the blanket and finally closed the physical gap between them, though the way Loki’s magic settled happily about them both made it seem like they were always in contact even if they weren’t actually touching.

The raw emotion that poured off of Johnny might have been difficult to see in Rider form. A skeleton on fire only really had so much range in terms of expression, but Loki could see it, and even if they couldn’t, they could certainly feel the radiating happiness that sang from the Rider. They hadn’t always known it, but they could read people incredibly well, partly because they could sort of feel the emotions of the people around them. Empathetic seemed like an incorrect term to apply to themselves, but it did sort of fit...

Sliding into Johnny’s lap, Loki made themselves comfortable by straddling Johnny’s hips. Anyone watching would have called them crazy for such a thing, and the sight truly must have been something to see. Someone willingly climbing into the lap of a six-foot-nine skeleton drenched in hellfire would have been a fun-yet-terrifying thing to watch, but Loki had no fear. No reason to fear the person who loved them so much. Even Zarathos didn’t scare Loki, though he was much less pleasant to deal with. He seemed at least willing to tolerate Loki because Johnny cared so deeply for them.

Besides, the number of things Loki let Johnny do to them while in Rider form sort of demanded there be no real fear between them, and Gods did Loki enjoy a lot of questionable activities...

“This has been such a lovely treat,” they murmured, hands coming up to cup each of Johnny’s cheekbones. Literally. It always reminded them in part of Hel, and how often they’d gone out of their way to cup Hel’s half-dead cheek rather than her living side to emphasize just how important it was to ignore those around her. “I expected something, but you’ve really outdone yourself this time. I don’t remember the last time I got to sit and stare at the stars without having to worry about what hid in the darkness between them.”

Leaning forward, Loki placed an almost too-gentle kiss where Johnny’s lips should have been. Nothing particularly sensual or inherently sexual to it. While they expected to get there eventually, Loki didn’t see a reason to rush right to it or to ruin such a beautiful moment. Just sitting in Johnny’s lap and sharing in the closeness was more than enough.

“Thank you for never failing to make each Valentine’s Day we spend together special. Even if this holiday is absolutely ridiculous,” they murmured, pressing their forehead gently against the solid bone of Johnny’s skull. They had to sit up a bit on their knees to reach comfortably, but it was worth it. “I love you too, Johnny.”

#ofcharredbones #ask Loki #answered prayers #c; johnny blaze #( main verse ; post tdw ) you've ruined everything #( ship ) loki x johnny #( long response ) if it were easy everyone would do it #valentines day 2020

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nancywheelxr · 5 years

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(our friends set us up on a blind date as a prank because we don’t like each other but neither of us wants to let them win so ) | Part 8:

( part 1 ) ( part 2 ) ( part 3 ) ( part 4 ) ( part 5 ) ( part 6) ( part 7 )

Game nights at Kara’s are always very fun in a very competitive sort of way. Winn loves every second of it. And it’s been around as a tradition for about as long as he’s known her. It’s the sort of thing that used to be just for fun and then stayed existing just for the normalcy. It’s kind of impossible to imagine life without those weird nights now.

This one, though. For this one, he’s as nervous as the first time he talked himself into knocking on her door.

“We can do this,” he says half to the mirror, half to his anxiety. They can do this. “It can’t be that hard.” His sentence rises at the end, almost bending into a question; too dubious to be a statement.

“It will be the first time they all see us together outside of work and its distractions,” Brainy answers him from the living room anyway, still idly flipping through channels. He’s been slowly becoming more comfortable in Winn’s apartment after their fake-date and dinner at Valentine’s Day; Winn is sure even his small one-bedroom is better than the dorms at the DEO. “Are you ready yet? I’d rather not be late.”

A deep breath. Not to say, of course, that they don’t get into each other’s nerves anymore. “That’s not as helpful as you think,” he calls back, then quieter, “asshole.” To be fair, they should get all the insults out of the way before going to Kara’s, you know, really get it out of their systems.

“I apologize, it was not my intention to make it worse,” Brainy appears at the door, seizing him up with a carefully neutral face. Winn is surprised he didn’t hear him approaching, even more at the petty need not be found lacking that rises at the inspection. He tugs at his collar at the same time Brainy clears his throat, “to me, knowing all the parameters of a situation helps. What would help you?”

Not to be under a microscope tonight. Instead of replying, he meets his eyes on the mirror with a look that hopefully carries all he really wants to say, and splashes water on his face, wishing to dispel some of his nerves with the cold. If he’s being honest, he’s not even that sure why he’s so apprehensive.

“If it helps,” Brainy continues, a little hesitant, passing him the towel hanging by the door, “they have no reason to be suspicious, they want to believe us.”

Clutching the towel on his hand, Winn gives him an almost-smile. “Now, this helps,” he dries off, hiding the full extent of his grin, “thanks. But we should get going or we’ll be late even by my standards.”

Maybe Brainy is right, things might be fine tonight. If anything, everyone will be already expecting bickering from all sides, it’s game night. Maybe, as a surprising amount of things in this lie, it will be easier than he expects it to be.

The kitchen table is littered with snacks and Winn is sure this is what heaven looks like. Why was he so nervous earlier again? Nothing could possibly go wrong with this much junk food available.

Besides, now that everyone’s here, the air is full of laughter and inside jokes and the warm, steady promise of friendship– it’s really hard to be nervous.

This is his family, of course it’s going to be okay.

“So how was the date?” comes Lena’s voice, drifting faded from the living room.

Right. Even if they’re halfway through this stupid lie.

“Very nice,” follows Brainy’s reply, “even though, Winn was five minutes late.”

Scoffing to himself, Winn makes his way around the counter, taking the bowl of chips with him, “hey, you should be nicer,” he says over the prattle, “I’m your boyfriend now.”

Brainy makes space for him on the floor, “I am being nice, it’s why I said five minutes, instead of the fifteen.”

“Thanks, really,” Winn deadpans, leveling him with a deeply unimpressed glare, and sets the bowl on the table.

Lena snickers, laughing fondly at his grudging expression as he holds one arm open, letting Brainy settle back against him. After over two months of pretending, casual touching like this is easy– Winn has always been an affectionate, tactile person, it wasn’t hard to accommodate Brainy into his personal bubble. It’s almost nice.

“Okay, are we ready for this?” Kara calls their attention, tapping a spoon against her beer, “after some serious requests, I have finally dug out Clue!” She sets the box on the middle of the table, smiling proudly at their cheering.

“I have not played this before,” Brainy whispers, watching Kara bring out the board and all the pieces. “Is the title as misleading as the others?”

“No, actually,” Winn says, “it’s pretty much what it says on the tin. Someone murdered Mr. Boddy and we gotta figure out who, where, and with what.” He snags two pieces before Alex could claim them all and start assigning them like codenames, “here, you should be Professor Plum.”

Turning it over on his hand, Brainy raises an eyebrow, “and who will you be?”

“Apparently,” he snorts, “Ms. Peacock.”

“Alright,” Alex calls, shaking the dice on her closed fist, “where’s Miss Scarlet?”

With a tired, long-suffering sigh, James raises his hand. “Let’s get this over with, hand over the dice.”

“Here you go, Red.”

James sighs again.

“Alex!” Kara cries, throwing the last of the chips at her sister. “You’re cheating!”

“How am I cheating? It’s Clue,” she laughs, ducking and holding up a pillow as a very ineffective shield, “and– stop it– you’re wasting food!”

“Okay,” James stands up, watching Kara scrap the bowl for ammunition with a face that doesn’t seem to decide if it wants to be amused or afraid, “I think it’s time for refills.”

“Hold up,” Winn detangles himself, unfortunately flailing all the while, “I’ll help you.”

The brewing war in the living room is left behind as he wanders into the kitchen behind James, going straight for the cabinets and raiding them for Kara’s emergency stash of chips.

Bags are poured into another bowl in relative silence, as they eavesdrop into the bickering drifting in. It’s imported to keep up with it, really, by the time they get back, it might already have devolved into an all-out war and they might have to choose sides and– Kara squeals, followed by a burst of laughter, and both of them turn to see her clinging to the couch behind her, crumbs all around, and Alex holding the bowl above her, grinning darkly satisfied.

But it’s not any of it that catches his attention.

No, while it is a funny scene to watch and it does startle a chuckle out of him, it dies on his throat once his gaze lands on Brainy. Winn can’t look away. Because Brainy is laughing openly, and Winn hasn’t noticed this before, but when Brainy smiles it lights up his whole face, makes him look younger, and it’s just–

James sidles up beside him, elbowing Winn lightly, “I know that face,” he chuckles, way too entertained by the whole thing, “it’s your smitten face.”

His mind screeches to a stop, and Winn freezes for a second, before going into overdrive and whipping his head around fast enough to give himself whiplash in compensation. “What?” His voice cracks embarrassingly. He clears his throat. Is his mouth hanging open? It might, he’s not entirely sure what’s going on, things are spiraling fast. “ I mean, what, pshh, why would you say that?”

“Uh, because I know you? And I’ve seen it way too many times now not to recognize it?”

That’s. Wow. When you think you know a guy– seriously, how long have they known each other and– how can James even. That’s. Wow. It’s supposed to fool everyone but, this is something else; for James to just come out and say that– where did he even. Wow.

“You okay there?” James, who clearly does not know Winn as well as he thinks, asks. He even has the gall to sound concerned. “I know it’s still fairly new– I didn’t mean to freak you out, man.”

Winn shakes his head, burying his inner monologue for later when he’s not supposed to be agreeing to this so very wrong statement. “You didn’t freak me out,” he shrugs, kind of trailing off. How do you follow up on that? Goddamnit, it’s too soon for Winn of all people to get tangled up in the lies. If anyone should trip, it should be Brainy, not him. “You just– caught me by surprise, that’s all. Kinda forgot you were there for a sec.”

“I hear that, alright,” and man, it’s the chuckling that irks him. James is just so sure, it’s. It’s whatever. “You were smiling like you didn’t see anyone else,” he claps Winn in the shoulder, calling back as he ducks out of the kitchen, “you’ve got it bad, man.”

Well, would you look at that. Maybe Winn should have looked into the Broadway thing, after all.

Who would’ve thought he’s such a good actor.

Clue goes about as well as it was expected. It’s to no one’s surprise when Alex wins, although Lena narrows her eyes in a way that promises hellfire of a payback later and Kara pouts, already resigned to be caught in the middle of that.

With the night winding down, they exchange the board games for a movie, because in all honesty, they have all missed getting together like this. Winn had not been there for the worst of it, but he’s seen the last drags of awkwardness lingering after all that went down last year.

To have everyone in the same room without any pressure, it’s kind of a miracle.

They’re mostly fine with not talking about it, though.

But the movie seems to be one of Alex’s, some action flick that demands just this tiny bit more of attention than he can give it right now. It’s a Friday night, and Winn’s tired; he’s been working all week, he’s so, so tired, he can feel gravity winning and his body tilting, head lolling to the side, eyelids insurmountably heavy. Maybe, if he closes his eyes for just a second, then–

Just one teeny-tiny moment, then he’ll give the movie all of his attention.

The warm, soft wall he’s leaning against shifts, and Winn burrows in the warmth more comfortably. An arm wraps around his shoulder, and oh, right, it’s a person. Something nags at his mind, too faint to go through the sleepy haze setting in, and Winn lets it slide away, as he goes further and further into the dark.

With the background noise quieting down around him, Winn sleeps.

A hand shakes his shoulder.

Scowling, Winn half-heartedly tries to bat it away, holding his pillow closer.

Someone coos nearby.

Now, his eyes fly open.

The first thing he sees is dark green, soft under his cheek. A sweater, his brain helpfully supplies with an unwanted delay. Then, there’s awareness of his surroundings– shit, right, he was at Kara’s, game night then a movie, and– “where’s everyone?” He mumbles, pushing himself off Brainy.

“Lena left half an hour ago, James is probably still waiting for his taxi outside,” Kara counts off her fingers, grinning unashamedly, “and Alex is out cold in the guest bedroom.”

His legs are still unsteady, stiff from sleep, and Winn is forced to accept Brainy’s hand to pull him up. Maybe if he weren’t still dazed and a little disoriented, he wouldn’t be so blasé about all of this, but as it is– things are already so goddamn weird, why not just go along with it?

“You have slept through the entire movie,” Brainy tells him, monotone, dusting himself off, “overall, it was very inaccurate.”

“That’s what you got from it?” Winn snorts, accepting his jacket from Kara. He gives her a smile, opening his arms in an invitation for a hug and she goes easily, laughing. “Told you we’d resurrect game night.”

“Says the guy who slept through half the night,” she turns him around, pushing him back towards Brainy, “here, I think this is yours.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Brainy makes a terribly resigned face, trading a sympathetic look with Kara over his shoulder, both struggling to keep a straight face. She herds them out the door, bundled up in scarves to brave the cold weather, snickering at his dramatically offended face. “Thank you for inviting us,” Brainy says, stepping out in the hall, and Winn takes his hand.

“Yeah,” he echoes through a yawn, nodding at Brainy’s direction, “what he said.”

Kara waves goodbyes, shutting the door with a soft click, leaving them alone in the empty hallway, and Winn drops his hand.

See?

Broadway-levels acting right there.

#winn schott #brainy #querl dox #kara danvers #lena luthor #james olsen #alex danvers #winndox #when in rome #it's already past midnight here #so happy valentine's day yall

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fate-ad2021 · 7 years

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14. “Vatican Rescue”

Session 14, Mar 12, 2017

Word count: 6,770

In-Game Date: Sunday, June 13, 2021

In which the group enters the Vatican with apprehension and comes out with more information and new allies.

I. Recap and Planning

Val and the Servants return to the Estray safe house at around 11AM to report on the meeting with Orsino. Both Assassin and Caster express reservations about the invitation to the Vatican, and while Val is eager to go in and find Stella, he himself has reservations about going alone.

“I’m not a solo person,” he admits. “That’s why I asked if I could bring an ally.”

With a deep frown, Caster points out: “But if you go in alone, then you’re the only one making a life-threatening bad decision.”

“Hey! If I die, you go back in the tree!”

Caster shoots a covert glance at Lancer, hoping that she has not put together the pieces about his identity, but the other Servant only sighs and shakes her head.

“We can’t get into the Vatican to help if things go wrong,” Lancer points out. “Trust me.”

“Wait, so you don’t – I don’t know – explode or something when you try to go in?” Val asks.

“When did you have time to try it?” Jim exclaims. It is a fair question: Lancer and her Master have been with the group for the past few days.

The two women exchange a sheepish grin as Siobhan replies, “Thursday, after we disappeared from dinner; we went to check out the Vatican and see how strong the field actually was, but Berserker chased us away almost immediately.”

“So, what happened?” Assassin asks.

“I was just stopped flat in my tracks once I hit the edge of it,” Lancer replies. “If I kept pressing, there might have been greater consequences, but I didn’t exactly get the chance to try.”

The group nods in acknowledgement, then falls into a discussion about what the Servants could be doing in the meantime while the Masters are inside. Caster still is unhappy with the idea of sending Val in unarmed, and although Jim reminds him that he will be going in as well, none of them are sure if Jim’s “Servant-punching gloves” will still function, since they are made with spirit-magic. Besides, they reason, going in is the only way to truly figure out whether or not Stella is okay; none of them are willing to seriously entertain the idea of leaving her behind.

“At least some of the Servants should be there,” Assassin puts in, “although if things go wrong, it will be on the Masters to get out first before we can do anything to help. I still think we should not be outside and exposed, though.”

“I don’t think anyone wants Caster to be exposed,” Val and Lancer both deadpan. The other four make horrified expressions as the two of them crack up laughing.

“What I mean,” Assassin insists over the laughter, “is that Caster should not stand out there looking like… like Julius Caesar, and attract people like – I don’t know – Saber or Rider for a public duel!”

“And what about me?” Siobhan asks Val and Jim. “Should I go in with you?”

They think about it for a few moments before deciding that no, Siobhan should not go in with them. “It’s good to have a card in reserve that can get into the Vatican, unlike the Servants,” Jim reasons.

“So it stands to reason that I should go and hang around outside, right?” She confirms.

“I’m definitely going along,” Caster insists. “Perhaps Lancer can come with me.”

The thought that they can keep an eye on her that way is left unspoken.

After some more deliberation, it is suggested that Assassin should go along with the group instead, since she is capable of passing unnoticed even when materialized. That would leave Lancer behind to watch over Archer. The decision is not made lightly – the group makes Lancer promise not to kill Archer in his sleep before they agree to leave her there. She promises, and the matter is settled: Assassin, Caster, and Siobhan will wait outside incognito while Val and Jim enter the Vatican, with Lancer waiting in reserve at the house and watching over Archer.

“Besides,” Val chirps as they all prepare to head out, “If anyone notices the Master and Servant pings, then Assassin and Caster could just pose as a Master-Servant pair like they did in that first fight with Saber. Given your history, it could be interesting.” He waggles his eyebrows at the two Servants.

Assassin heaves a great sigh. “I am not going to dignify that with any kind of a response.”

II. Into the Vatican

The group takes two different buses to get to the destination, Jim and Val in front and Siobhan hanging back with the Servants. The bus route takes them over a bridge south of Ponte PASA; the damage from after the battle with Berserker is still clearly visible, even a day later and from a distance.

Val and Jim approach the corner that Orsino had pointed them to. The entrance to Vatican City is clearly in sight; the others stay sufficiently far back that the two of them can hardly sense Siobhan’s Command Seal.

A few moments before noon, Orsino Veronesi emerges from the gates to the city, alone. He waves cordially at them as he makes his way through the Sunday morning crowd. When he gets close enough, he greets Val, “Good morning again.” He then turns to Jim. “And you must be Valentin’s ally. I am Orsino Veronesi.”

“Jim.”

Orsino nods. “I assume you have been… read in to the situation?”

Jim nods. “I’m in on it.”

“Very well,” Orsino replies. “Follow me, if you will.”

“Before we go in,” Val ventures, “I feel it’s necessary to point out our wariness about going where our allies cannot.”

Orsino’s expression seems to soften. “Of course. I swear to you, as a man of God, that this is not a trap.” He pauses, then adds, “Whether or not you’re willing to take that, I don’t know.”

Jim frowns. “I’m not inclined to believe a heretic priest swearing on God.”

Orsino chuckles and shrugs. “I’m not called a heretic because of any lack of faith. Rather, I earned that label through embrace of the magic that is supposedly forbidden despite being gifted to me.”

Jim nods, still reluctant, as Val asks, “By the way, I’ve been wondering: how does your backseat driver like being in the Vatican? I don’t imagine that’s comfortable for anyone.”

Orsino smiles dryly. “We are… not amused. He’s not terribly happy about it, and I have to stay in control when we’re inside the boundary field.”

With that explanation and promise out of the way, the group heads toward the Vatican. Behind them, a voice rises above the crowd: Caster, in disguise as a ratty-looking man in priest’s robes, shouting about hellfire and damnation. Orsino glances over his shoulder and shakes his head. “They give us all a bad name.”

“Caster,” Val asks calmly. “What the hell are you doing?”

The answer comes with a strong sense of self-satisfaction and entertainment. “Making sure there’s a crowd in case you need people to storm the gates.”

Val shakes his head and follows Orsino inside.

As the Masters step over the threshold, they feel a layer of static form over the connection to their Servants; they get the sense that they can probably communicate still, but only with great concentration and effort. Jim reaches into his pocket to where he has the gloves stored. He is dismayed to find a mundane pair of leather gloves with no trace of Assassin’s magic in them. He swallows his fear and follows after Val.

Orsino leads them along side passages of the Vatican, managing to avoid most of the Sunday crowds. Val, who has been inside the city before, notices that he is trying to steer clear of congested areas while still keeping other people in sight – Orsino deliberately bypasses several back alley paths that he could have used, instead choosing to keep them more or less visible. The Executor chatters amiably along the way, talking about the architecture and generally sounding nostalgic.

Eventually, they do enter a side passage into the outer wall. Orsino leads them down the passage a little way until they reach a door with barely-visible glyphs carved into it. There they stop, and Orsino taps the glyphs in a careful pattern. The glyphs glow briefly then fade, and he pushes the door open.

“She’s in here,” he tells them. “Come on.”

“What happens if you touch them in the wrong order?” Val asks, ever curious.

Orsino shrugs. “It’s like a phone – it just won’t unlock. I mean, if you get it wrong a sufficient number of times, it might zap you or something. I’ve never tried.”

III. Reunion with Stella

The room that they step into is a small foyer with an open doorway leading into a larger room. In the single bed in the center of the room, Stella sits propped up on the pillows with a book on her lap – the Koran that Caster saw on the bedside table. She looks up when the outer door opens, surprise written on her face.

“Stella!” Val cries. He barrels across the room to hug her.

“Ah! Watch the arm, watch the arm!”

Val pulls up short when he sees the arm in question, all bandaged up and tucked against her stomach. He very carefully proceeds with the hug and exclaims, “You’re alive!”

She nods, carefully closing the book and setting it back on the side table. “Yeah, I’m alive. You are too, I see!”

“Are you hurt?” Jim asks.

Stella glances at the arm and winces. “Not any more than I asked them to.”

Orsino pipes up. “I’ll leave you three to talk. I should get the doctor to check on you anyway.”

“Thanks, Orsino,” she replies, and the priest takes his leave.

As soon as he is gone, Jim turns to Stella. “Archer is okay, by the way.” At Stella’s relieved expression, he qualifies, “I mean, as okay as he can be when he’s losing magic from every orifice.”

Stella raises her eyebrows in surprise. They explain that the Servant is fading quickly after having used his Noble Phantasm and apparently having trouble drawing magic from her. She looks sheepish, but says nothing yet. They reassure her that Archer is not dead yet and that they will explain everything as soon as they can.

“I’ll tell you everything, too,” she says, “but I have to say first – I’m alright, and Orsino really is a good guy. He helped me out, even if I don’t look okay right now. Hell, he even faced me the right way so I could pray.”

Val looks surprised. “You’re Muslim?” Stella nods, looking confused at his confusion.

“You’re a white lesbian from Texas!” Val and Jim both exclaim.

Stella laughs. “I converted in college. Turns out that mage Muslims are less weird about us folks than either normal mages or normal Muslims tend to be.”

Val and Jim both shrug. “So, what happened?”

Stella explains things the same way that Archer did: She was on her way to join them for the fight on the bridge, but Orsino intercepted them along the way. She adds that prior to that, she and Archer had been talking about how far the Grail War has strayed from the favor that she had signed up for. When Orsino had shown up, she had seen a godsend: she thought that if she went with him and his Servant, she could figure out what he meant when he offered her a way out.

“When we got here, he told me that he could get someone to remove the Command Seals. He called the process ‘Spiritual Surgery’ – said he had called somebody in for it as soon as he learned that there was a War on, just in case anybody wanted to get out. He gave me some time to think about it, told me there was no pressure. I was gonna say ‘yes’, but…” She shakes her head. “I felt bad about abandoning y’all. I at least wanted to come back and talk to you about it.”

She is silent for a moment, staring at her bandaged arm. Then she goes on, “As soon as I left the Vatican Saturday morning, I got a phone call from Vasilyevich. He said he was calling in that favor I owed him. I dunno how it works, but he made me command Archer to kill y’all.” She pauses and smiles sadly at them. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad he’s still okay. I trust y’all to have good judgement about what to do if he were to continue being a danger.”

Val and Jim both nod. “What happened then?” Val asks gently.

Stella squares her shoulders and sighs. “After I hung up with Vasilyevich, I couldn’t stand myself anymore. I knew that there was nothing I could do to stop Archer or change his course or anything, so I just hoped for the best for y’all, and I went back inside. It’s all kind of a blur from there, but I remember meeting with the doctor; she explained the whole thing to me and made sure I understood it, and then settled down and did the surgery.” She lifts the bandaged arm gingerly. “She said I should be able to cast spells again in a couple weeks, but it’ll be some heavy recovery time. Taking Command Seals out takes a lot outta you, apparently. But they’re gone now. I’m out of the fight.”

After a few moments of silence, Jim says, “Archer introduced himself to us. And he told us about Saber’s identity, too. Did you know?”

Stella nods. “Yeah, I knew who they were. And I can definitely confirm that Saber’s with Vasilyevich.”

“Thanks for the confirmation,” Val replies. “Do you want to see Archer, by the way?”

Stella hesitates, then shakes her head. “I don’t see any way we can make that work without putting either of us in unnecessary danger. Just… Tell him I’m sorry, would you?”

“We will,” Jim promises. “I see you can talk about Vasilyevich now.”

“Yeah,” Stella confirms. “Orsino broke the geis, so I can tell you the little bit that I know now. It’s not a lot, though: he never told me his plans. I wasn’t brought in as anything besides a known Master. I do know he brought in another one with some artifact delivery. That might be Orsino, but that guy swears he isn’t tied to Vasilyevich in any way, so I don’t know.”

“That tracks with what we’ve been thinking,” Val confirms. “Which is good, because we don’t want to have to fight him; killing any more Servants would be really bad.”

Stella tilts her head, her brow furrowed. “So… you’re just… collecting people?”

“Yup!” Val and Jim chirp.

Val adds, “Live allies are better than dead enemies, especially when the Grail is literally eating people.”

IV. Gathering Attention

Outside the walls, Siobhan and Assassin are doing their level best to ignore the boisterous preacher on the corner. Siobhan has found a bench to park herself on, pretending to read a book. As for Assassin, she is playing the tourist, snapping photographs of everything that looks interesting and chatting with passing locals.

Meanwhile, Caster has gathered quite a crowd. He is still preaching loud and strong, keeping a careful eye out all the while for anyone who looks like they might cause trouble.

One gentleman in particular stands out from the crowd: over six feet tall and shaped like a gym addict, with short-cropped brown hair. He stands in the second row of onlookers with his arms crossed over his massive chest, just watching Caster.

Caster uses his regular sweeping of the crowd to steal glances at him, trying to puzzle out the strange sense that the man gives him. Finally, it dawns on him: the man seems like a Servant, although not nearly as much as he should if he truly were one. The sense is different even from Assassin’s Presence Concealment; it is rather like that of an ex-soldier, who walks like he is in the military for the rest of his life. He somehow seems like he is several years removed from the reality of being a Servant, although Caster has no idea how that could be possible.

As he puzzles through it more, the man breaks from the crowd and ambles over to a bench nearby Siobhan, where he sits down with his own book pulled from the pocket of his cargo pants.

V. Former Master

Stella can only stare at Val in the wake of his statement about the Grail. Before Val can explain further, a woman’s voice comes from the doorway behind them: “Oh, did they finally make that work?”

The Masters whirl around to face the newcomer. Standing in the doorway is a plump woman, perhaps 5’4”, wearing scrubs and a wry smile and exuding an air of cheerfulness. She bustles past the two Masters and touches Stella’s wrist and forehead, taking her pulse and testing her temperature. “How are you doing?” the woman asks softly.

“I’m alright, doctor,” Stella replies with a shrug and a wince. “The painkillers are starting to wear off, though. Is it too early for another one of those pills you gave me? I don’t think I can get the bottle from the nightstand open.”

The doctor chuckles and checks her watch, then opens the nightstand drawer and twists the bottle open. She casts a wink at Val and Jim. “Childproof caps: great for someone who’s just had hand surgery.” She passes Stella a pill and the glass of water from the nightstand.

Jim notices that the doctor is keeping herself between them and Stella. With a frown, he grumps, “I’m sick of all this posturing. We have every right to be here. We’re closer to Stella than you are.”

The doctor raises her eyebrows and drops all pretenses of subtlety. “Really?” she asks, turning fully toward him. “Because last I checked, you weren’t in here during the 8 hour surgery that I performed on her. Also—” She looks past them toward the door. “Orsino Veronesi! Why on earth did you bring two more Masters into the room with my patient?”

Orsino pokes his head back into the room, but before he can reply, Jim snaps, “We’re the reason she survived long enough to get here in the first place!”

Val holds up his hands. “Look, we were just really worried about her. She was supposed to meet us, and we got worried when she disappeared. Then her Servant started dying and—” He stops, blinks, and then says, “Wait, you called us Masters. You know about the War?”

The doctor’s expression shifts from defensive to understanding. She purses her lips, then pulls off her glove to reveal an old, faded scar. It is clearly a three-part mark, reminiscent of a Command Seal. Val and Jim both recognize the dimness of it from what happened to Siobhan’s used Command Seals.

“Alright, I believe you,” she tells them. “Please, let me explain. My name is Doctor Lilly Silvagio. I was a participant in the first Cartwright Grail War in America. I know what it’s like to be pulled into one of these things against your will. I performed the spiritual surgery on Stella so that she could get out of the War without dying. Honestly, I’m a little surprised to hear that her Servant is still kicking around. Although I guess if he’s Archer, that explains some things.”

Val and Jim exchange a glance and a shrug. “Who did you summon?” Jim asks her.

“I was one of the Masters of Saber,” Doctor Silvagio replies. “My brother and I summoned him together. That War… ended reasonably easy, actually, although it did take a while for us to figure out how. I can tell you about it if you’d like, but I don’t know how much help that’ll be here. The Grail is obviously very different this time.”

“Anything you can tell us will be welcome,” Val insists.

The doctor nods. “Well, first off, Cartwright’s plan was terrible. She wanted to gather power to strike at the Clock Tower, probably in response to the Sealing Designation they put on her, but she completely sabotaged her own plan. Her first mistake was killing one of her allies and stealing his Servant, and her second mistake was getting a bunch more people who didn’t actually want to be in the War.” She shakes her head. “Honestly, most of us just wanted to defend our city. Four of our teams ended up banding together to defeat Berserker and his Master. Things got a little rocky when Archer’s Master split from us, but the rest of us managed to stick together and defeat the other Servants, and… well, then we ended the War.”

“How?” Jim and Val ask.

She studies them for a moment, then pulls up a seat beside the bed and motions for them and Orsino – who has been quietly lingering in the doorway – to sit as well. Stella looks content to listen while the painkillers set in.

Once everyone is seated, the doctor says, “You were probably told that the Grail summons seven Servants, bound to seven Masters, right?” When all three remaining Masters nod, she shakes her head. “Here’s a fun fact: Cartwright’s hack of the Grail ritual is designed to summon eight.”

“What?” Val gasps, as Jim asks, “Is it a doubled class?”

“In our War, the eighth class was Ruler, summoned to serve as the vessel of the Grail.”

“The Grail was a person?” Val gapes at her.

“He was Bran the Blessed – the Fisher King – the legendary figure who kept the original Holy Grail.”

“Also known as the Cauldron of Rebirth,” Orsino murmurs, recognition dawning in his face.

The doctor nods. “That’s right. Pair Dadeni was Ruler’s Noble Phantasm. With our War, we decided to try hacking the Grail like Cartwright did to force its end without losing our Servants. We poured the power of all of our Command Seals into the Grail and asked Ruler to use his Noble Phantasm to give our Servants bodies. It was a longshot, and we wouldn’t have been surprised if it failed, but it worked!”

“Wow!” Val exclaims. “So, who’s still around?”

“We managed to save Saber, Assassin, and Lancer,” she replies. “That is, Beowulf, Musashibo Benkei, and Robin Hood. B came to Rome with me, but he still couldn’t enter the Vatican’s holy ground. Must still have some spirit stuff left in him, even ten years after getting a mortal body.”

“Do they… age? Do they have to eat?” Jim asks. “Can they do their magic?”

Doctor Silvagio shrugs. “The Servants who are left are essentially just normal people now. I think B has aged, but it’s hard to tell when I’m around him all the time. He definitely has to eat and sleep, but no more Noble Phantasms, no turning into spirit form. None of us had a Caster, so I’m not sure how their magic would work. Our War’s Caster was Rasputin, and nobody would have wanted him to have yet another life.”

“Did you defeat this Cartwright in your War, then?” Orsino asks.

The doctor shakes her head. “No, she got away from us, and started the second War maybe five years later. The combatants of that one killed her in their final confrontation.”

“What can you tell us about the second American War?” Val asks.

“Yeah, how was it different?” Jim adds.

“Not a lot,” she admits. “I wasn’t the person who got sent to investigate it, and I didn’t pay a lot of attention to the reports that came back to my organization about it. All I know is that they tried the same trick that we did, using Ruler’s Noble Phantasm to reincarnate a Servant. I think they got Assassin out of that, but I don’t know the details. She and her Master aren’t around much.”

Val thinks for a moment, then asks, “Was Ruler the vessel in that War, too?” When the doctor nods, he frowns. “See, in this War the Grail is an actual object, as opposed to a person.”

Orsino nods. “If Ruler existed, he would likely be close to the Grail. Surely we would have seen him by now.”

“So if there is an eighth Servant,” Jim reasons, “It could be Ruler or something else, but we don’t know what or who it could be yet.”

“You mentioned ‘your organization’,” Val points out to the doctor. “Who are you with?”

“I’m with the Red Flower Society,” she answers, “a group of people from prior Wars.”

Val and Jim nod to each other – they both remember Reines mentioning the group several times, including when giving them the summoning ritual.

“I have a question for you,” she says. When they nod, she goes on, “You mentioned that the Grail was eating people. We suspected that that’s how it was intended to work in our Wars, but we never worked out how. What do you know about that?”

Jim tries to explain while Val steps off to the side to call in to Caster to give him an update. “Right now, we know that the Grail is absorbing the energy from the deaths of the Servants.” Doctor Silvagio nods; she knew that part. “But we also think that it’s absorbing death energy from the fires that have been happening around town – the warehouse, the Pantheon, the apartment fire.” He hesitates, glancing at Orsino. “There was also some weird destruction on the bridge where we fought Berserker, but it wasn’t us and we’re not sure if it’s connected.”

Orsino ducks his head in apology. “That was my doing. As a Master in the War, I was the one tasked to create a cover for the events that transpired there.”

“Are you the Master of Rider?” Jim asks, straightforward as usual. “We’ve got everyone else covered. How did you get involved, anyway?”

“I did summon the Servant Rider,” Orsino confirms. “I didn’t expect to be involved in this War, honestly. As I told Valentin earlier, I was on vacation when I got called back in, along with a number of other Executors. A package arrived here shortly after we did, and the lot of us went out to receive it; strength in numbers, so they say. I was the first one to see it when they opened it.” He casts a sad glance toward Doctor Silvagio. “As I told you, it was the Cauldron of Rebirth, the real one.”

Jim presses, “So you got pulled in with that?”

Orsino nods. “As soon as I saw it, I felt a pain—” He touches his hand, where the Command Seals are burned. “Then they whisked me away and quarantined me. A few days ago, they handed me a summoning spell and told me what I must do. I called Rider to my side, and the rest, you know. Although,” he grumps toward the doctor, “this is the first time you have mentioned this eighth Servant to me.”

“You just called me in to see if I could help people get out of the War,” Doctor Silvagio returns. “I figured I’d tell you what I could whenever it came up.”

VI. Former Servant

“…and the Cauldron of Rebirth is here, inside the Vatican,” Val tells Caster, “And it’s definitely the Grail.”

“Are you sure you don’t need an army to storm the gates?” Caster asks, watching his crowd begin to disperse.

“Nah, we’re cool for now.” Val sounds like he might stop talking, finally, and then he adds one more thing: “By the way, Beowulf is still kicking around! Say hi if you see him!”

Caster lets out an audible sigh of exasperation as he turns toward the not-quite-Servant sitting on the bench. The man has closed his book and has been subtly trying to get Caster’s attention for the past few minutes.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Caster tells Val.

Dropping the concentration on the connection, Caster hops down off his soap box and strolls over to the huge man. With grace and subtly to rival his Master, he plops down on the bench and says, “Hello, Beowulf!”

The not-quite-Servant arches an eyebrow and smiles wryly. “I usually go by ‘B’ now. The first time I introduced myself in the modern world, I was asked what poor sod had parents who hated him so much as to name him Beowulf.” The man’s laugh booms across the emptying square. “Didn’t really know how I should feel about that. Decided to change it anyway.”

Caster nods politely and says nothing.

“So you could tell I was a Servant. I wasn’t sure.”

“To be honest, I wasn’t sure myself,” Caster replies frankly.

“Why didn’t you attack me, if you could tell?” B turns toward him and slings an arm over the back of the bench. “Have I lost so much of my being?” He motions to his form.

“Two reasons,” Caster says lightly. “One, we’re in public and I’m not stupid. And two, you didn’t seem to be an active threat.” B nods, and Caster forges on, “So, what is Beowulf the Servant doing here?”

“At present, waiting for my Master. Although I would rather have stayed with her brother. At least there, I could be teaching small children how to punch things. Not waiting for a Master who wants to save people.” Caster snorts a laugh, but B’s smile is fond. “But it’s not all bad. I’ve never been to Rome. Being summoned in a small town was terrible; we couldn’t leave and there was nothing to do. Now, I get to go out and travel.”

“I too am waiting for a Master who wishes to save people,” Caster admits. “They can be so tedious.”

“What Class are you? You don’t appear to be much of a… fighting man.”

“I’m not,” Caster replies, and leaves it at that.

(Across the way, Siobhan and Assassin both grimace at the sheer ridiculousness of the dichotomy between the two men.)

B studies Caster for a moment before declaring, “You weren’t really asking what I was doing in Rome, were you?”

Caster shrugs. “Any information you’re willing to provide would be welcome.”

“Why don’t you ask me what you really meant to?”

“Would you answer it if I did?”

“Are you asking it?”

Caster glares at B’s self-amused smile. “Are we really doing this?”

B laughs again, big and booming. He laughs until he doubles over and has to wipe away tears. “I’m sorry – it has been far too long since I’ve gotten the chance to troll another Servant. We don’t see each other often enough for that.”

“So there are more of you,” Caster prompts.

“Yes,” B replies, sitting up straight again. “There are. When I was summoned ten years ago, the Grail called not seven, but eight. Of those called in my War, three of us remain.”

“How? Who was the eighth?”

“The Servant Ruler, summoned as the Grail vessel. His Noble Phantasm allowed the three of us who were allies to manifest in mortal bodies. Besides myself, there remains Assassin and… Lancer? Ugh, Lancer.”

“Ugh, Lancer,” Caster repeats, “sounds like the refrain we’ve heard in our War as well.”

“What does yours do?”

“Are you familiar with the person from the Internet – ‘Leeroy Jenkins’?” Caster himself had looked it up one night away from the rest of the group. B’s face lights up in recognition, then slowly crumbles at the implication.

“We didn’t – and still don’t – see much of our Lancer. I believe that if things hadn’t gone wrong enough to draw his Master out, that Master would have spent the entire War holed up in his laboratory doing chemistry. Not even alchemy! Chemistry!” B throws up his hands theatrically. Caster chuckles in response. B heaves a sigh and asks, “So, what are you doing next?”

Caster falls into thought, looking around the square. Finally, he replies, “I believe our plan is to work on damage control.”

From the corner of his eye, he sees B nod and pick up his book again. “The least fun part of the War, but the most necessary. I wish you luck.”

VII. Future Directions

With Stella sleeping peacefully in her room, Orsino guides everyone into a sitting room down the hall where they can have more room to sit and talk. The room is part lounge and part kitchenette. There is already a man present when the group enters; he stands at the counter watching the electric kettle heat up water. He is in casual clothing with his long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail.

“Hi, Rider,” Jim greets him as they walk in. Evidently, he is done playing coy – if he ever felt the need to do so at all.

“I see I’ve been introduced already,” Rider replies, his voice quiet and his smile bright. “Greetings to you, whoever you are. Would you like tea?”

Jim accepts the offer; Val tries to convince Rider to make him coffee, but begrudgingly accepts tea when Rider refuses. The group takes their seats around the coffee table. When Rider brings a tray of tea mugs over to distribute them, he admits, “I’m surprised that this meeting has gone so peacefully. I was honestly expecting a bit more of a disaster.”

“Would you start anything in the Vatican?” Val jokes.

Rider shrugs. “I don’t know how dumb you are.”

Jim cracks up laughing as Val loudly protests, “I’m a dick, not stupid!”

Rider responds with a sagely nod. “Appearances are important to keep up.”

“Speaking of appearances,” Jim adds, “How the heck do you manage to not get your hair caught when riding your horse?”

“You do have a horse, right?” Val inquires.

“As to the first question, I tie it back. As for the second, I do have a horse. His name is Bayard and he’s a very nice horse.”

Orsino waves his hand to bring everyone’s focus back. “Can we ask what your next plan is, now that you’ve verified Stella’s condition?”

Without hesitation, the Masters tell them: they are going after Saber and Vasilyevich. They freely admit that their first plan is to try to turn Saber over to their side. When Orsino and the doctor ask why, they explain that they know about Saber’s displeasure with his Master’s actions and his discomfort at the idea of civilian casualties. They reason that if they can get through to Saber and convince his to turn on his Master, then they might be able to trick Vasilyevich into burning his remaining two Command Seals, which would in theory leave Saber as a free agent.

“But,” Val allows, “if we can’t break his deal with his Master, then we’ll have to deal with him another way.”

This is met with somber silence until Val chirps up again. “But let’s not worry about that right now! Right now, we’re all going to agree not to stab each other and to share information, right? That’s what allies do.”

“I can agree to the first part,” Orsino replies. “I have no plans to stab either of you, unless something goes terribly wrong somewhere along the way. As for sharing information, you must understand that that’s mostly up to you: I know very little of the circumstances and such of this War.”

Val and Jim quietly deliberate for a moment before deciding to lay out their cards.

They inform Orsino that Berserker is dead and his Masters are neutralized, sent to London to Val’s patron for safekeeping. If Orsino notices the discrepancy between this statement and Val’s former claim of involvement through Estray, he does not mention it.

They know now beyond a shadow of a doubt that Saber is Sir Gawain and that he belongs to Vasilyevich. They explain that Vasilyevich has used up one Command Seal already and who probably needs to use more than that to push Saber into causing civilian casualties.

They also suspect that the Grail has been absorbing death magic as well as Servant energy, although they do not know to what end. They hope to keep the Servants alive as long as possible, since they do not know what will happen if all of them die or how to stop whatever that is.

Orsino stops them here to ask how the absorption has been happening, so Val shows him the illustration of the death seal. After turning it this way and that, Orsino muses that it looks like it could be related to a Command Seal, which would form a conceptual connection to the War.

They continue that they know that Archer was Stella’s Servant and that his identity is Tristan of Cornwall; they are trying to keep him alive but he might be unable to rejoin the battle.

They also say that they know Lancer and Lancer’s Master but are unaware of Lancer’s identity. Orsino seems to accept this, probably on account of Val’s previous show of being so open and trustworthy.

“That leaves Assassin and Caster,” Orsino reasons, “and I can assume that you two have them.”

Val and Jim nod.

“Well, I won’t ask you to tell me their identities. I am intrigued by these death seals, though. Do you know any more about them?”

They take a moment to explain the situation they found at the warehouse yesterday: the purged magic in the location, where there had previously been traces of the death magic from the seal. Orsino looks surprised; he says that he thought only Executors had that sort of power. At their pointedly uncomfortable expressions, he holds up his hands with a sheepish chuckle.

“One of those seals was at the Pantheon, wasn’t it? How about this: Rider and I will go after the seals. We’ll stop by the Pantheon to get a sense for them, then canvass the city for more of the seals. With my abilities, I should be able to defuse them without setting them off. If I have time, we’ll make our way up to the warehouses to investigate that anti-magic thing that you described.”

Val and Jim both nod. “Then we and our Servants will track down Saber.”

Orsino agrees. “With any luck, we’ll be able to turn up Vasilyevich’s base. Stella said that she suspected there was more than one. But first things first: the seals, and the Servant.” He stands, stretches, grumbles about his joints.

Doctor Silvagio stands as well. “Thank you for telling us all of this. I’ll call home and make sure that the Red Flower Society knows about it, too. Maybe we can get some more insight into that magic-breaking phenomenon.” Then she blinks, and realizes, “I never got your names!”

Val rises, takes her hand and kisses it with a flourish. “Valentin de Rosa, at your service!”

“The rock star?” She exclaims with an expression of confusion.

“More importantly right now: the spy!”

The doctor turns to the other Master. “And you?”

“Jim.”

“Just Jim?”

Jim sighs. “Jim Harwey, not that it matters anymore.”

“Oh!” The doctor looks shocked before softening her expression into a smile. “Well, it’s lovely to be introduced to both of you. Here’s my phone number, in case you need to call for anything. Good luck out there!”

VIII. Wrapping Up

After B takes his leave, Caster resumes his place on the soapbox. He is on the verge of calling Val again to check in when the Masters emerge from the front gates of the Vatican. Orsino is at their side; they exchange a few words of parting before the Executor strolls off down the street.

Once Orsino is out of sight, Jim marches up to Caster on his box. “Uncle Julius,” he declares, “Stop scaring the tourists.”

Dumbfounded, Caster steps down as Assassin and Siobhan approach, laughing. Siobhan links arms with Jim and Val and chirps, “You’re not dead!”

“Nope!” Val replies cheerily. “And we made two friends. Or – at least four. Three and a half?”

Siobhan looks bemused and turns to Jim for clarification. Jim shrugs. “Orsino, Rider, and a Master from one of the former Wars. And her Servant, who is still here.”

“And Lilly knew who I was! I told you I had fans, Jimbo!”

Jim shakes his head and grumbles, “That face doesn’t inspire fans – it inspires contempt.”

And they all head home.

#session log post

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