#he has one (1) tattoo but he refuses to tell them what or where it is

[dindjarindiaries]

Omega and Crosshair's story in The Bad Batch season 3 mirrors Hunter and Omega's story in The Bad Batch season 1, but with Omega taking on Hunter's role and Crosshair taking on Omega's.

Something the show did really well in season 3 was prove just how far Omega has come, and how she's become so much like all her brothers in different ways. Personally, I see a lot of Hunter in her, mainly for the way she's always tried to emulate him ever since season 1. That's what started to lead me on this path to discovering that, in season 3, she takes on Hunter's previous role from season 1, especially where Crosshair is concerned.

As always with any analysis, this is a disclaimer that you may view these episodes in an entirely different way due to various biases, one of the most notable being based upon your own favorite characters and your own life experience. All I ask is that you read through carefully before chiming in with any counterarguments!

The basis of this analysis, or at least what clued me in to this, are these two moments, and the similarities of the stories Hunter & Omega and Omega & Crosshair have in seasons 1 and 3, respectively.

It's important to note straightaway that these two stories do not line up exactly the same. There are, rather, thematic similarities, and enough potential parallels that bring everything together just enough to show us how everything falls into place and brings season 1 full circle in season 3.

At the beginning of season 3, Omega and Crosshair are both imprisoned in the same place. Regardless, they're both being treated very differently. Omega has more of an illusion of freedom in having time on her own while she tends to her tasks. Crosshair, on the other hand, is either held in his cell or is actively being tortured/conditioned.

Metaphorically, this was also where Hunter (and the rest of the Batch) and Omega were in season 1, too. Hunter and the boys had the illusion of freedom in getting to leave Kamino and participate in missions, but they still had a duty to serve the Republic with no real choice ever being presented. Omega, on the other hand, was confined to Kamino, even kept hidden for the most part as Nala Se's lab assistant.

The dynamic between Omega and Crosshair shifts when Omega gets older. As I pointed out in this analysis, Omega's growth, and her shift into the role of Hunter, is made evident through the use of shadows when she talks to Crosshair in his cell. When she's younger, she looks as if she has Crosshair's marksman tattoo. When she's older, the left half of her face is concealed in a shadow, like Hunter's skull tattoo.

While this is showing Omega's growth by taking her from emulating the youngest of the Batch to the oldest, it's also foreshadowing how Crosshair is going to be taking on younger Omega's role, too.

It kicks off the strongest in episode 3, when it's time to make their escape. Omega insists on freeing Crosshair and taking him with her, despite him telling her that she should've left him behind—and that he wouldn't have thought twice about leaving her behind, either. But Omega refused to leave him behind. Why?

She's one of us. We're not leaving her there.

She learned that lesson from Hunter, who brought his entire squad back to Kamino just to free her from where she was being confined. Omega, now embodying Hunter's role, does the same for Crosshair here. She takes the risk to come free him and to make their escape together.

From then on, Omega actually calls a lot of the shots, if not all of them. Like Hunter, she's the strategist, guiding Crosshair but also considering and listening to his insight. Crosshair obeys, albeit more reluctantly than Omega used to obey Hunter—although she still used to protest if Hunter was sidelining her for her protection, so there are a few little similarities there.

(I would be remiss not to note here that the only glimpses we really get of Omega being a child again rather than the leader she learned to be from Hunter is when she's actually with Hunter. The face she makes when she runs to him during their reunion, melting into his embrace, snuggling Lula on the Marauder, leaning her head on his shoulder on Pabu... he's the safe space where she can fully relax and just be a kid again, because even if she's always gonna be Hunter for others, he's the only Hunter for her.)

After the reunion, we see Crosshair struggling at first to be back with his squad as their new history stands between them, mostly due to Crosshair's own guilt and hesitance and Hunter's desire to learn more and understand what happened. Because of their issues, Hunter doesn't have the established trust he needs yet to help Crosshair the way Omega can. That's why Omega, in a way, takes on the role Hunter used to have in Crosshair's life—at least, in this season.

Omega is very protective of Crosshair during this time, in a way that's reminiscent of how fiercely protective Hunter always has been of Omega. Of course, Crosshair is also very protective of Omega, too, and we also saw this with Omega regarding Hunter (and the others) in season 1. She was constantly worried about them when they were on missions without her, and that relieved way she says Hunter's name when she realizes he's alive after his shootout with Cad Bane will always get me.

The biggest thematic similarity between season 1 Omega and season 3 Crosshair, however, is their motivation, as far as the rest of the squad is concerned. Omega tries her hardest to earn their trust and their approval by training with her bow, strategizing, following orders, and more. Crosshair wants the same thing; he wants to regain the trust and approval he had from his brothers before everything happened. He practices shooting with his rifle and is frustrated when he can't protect them the way he wants to.

Just as Omega's past haunted her in the form of bounty hunters throughout season 1, Crosshair's past haunts him in the form of his hand tremor and CX-2. Omega's worst fear became returning to Kamino, and Crosshair's is returning to Tantiss. This is what they're trying to run from the entire season, despite the fact that all paths start to lead right back to those places.

Eventually, the Empire becomes a threat again, and escape becomes impossible for season 1 Hunter and season 3 Omega, respectively. Both of them give themselves up to protect others. Hunter orders Tech to leave him on Daro, while Omega insists on turning herself in to protect Pabu and her brothers. They both do so without fear, intent on either getting themselves out of their situation or depending on their squad to help them.

(Crosshair technically substituting for Tech here, too... I'm emotional.)

This is when we get the pinnacle of season 1 Omega's and season 3 Crosshair's arcs: they go back to the place they fear the most solely for the sake of their Hunter-figure. This action alone proves the growth they've done over the course of the story, as the trust, connection, and love they truly, deeply have for that person they look up to encourages them to be brave and to face their greatest fears to save them.

Season 1 Omega returns to Kamino for Hunter, and season 3 Crosshair returns to Tantiss for Omega. We all know that Omega is exhibiting peak Hunter behavior here as she looks after the younger children imprisoned with her to help them escape, but that's beside the point currently. We fast forward to their reunions, when the immediate threat is gone and the Hunter-figures realize what their Omega-figures sacrificed to save them.

Not only that, but they're also reminded that it was because of their own initial actions that the Omega-figures found the bravery and inspiration to conquer their fear. Season 1 Omega reminds Hunter that he had gone back to Kamino for her first, and season 3 Crosshair doesn't have to say anything for Omega to remember the way she risked her own escape attempt to free him from his cell first. They never gave up on each other.

I, of course, don't miss the significance of Hunter being in the latter scene when this all happens. Again, while Omega may act like Hunter to many others, only Hunter himself can take on that role in her own life. Here, Hunter gets to see how his actions when they first took in Omega have influenced her and, now, his youngest brother. It's such a heartfelt and rewarding full-circle moment, with Omega being the mend between these two formerly torn-apart brothers. It's such a large step ahead from where they were before.

The epilogue essentially becomes a lighthearted display of the similarities between Hunter and Omega. He stresses that he and his brothers want to keep her safe, and after reassuring him that she will be, she asks him to look over their other two brothers—proving that both of them are still protective as Hunter-figures over those they see as their Omega-figures. All the while, of course, they're protective over one another, too, even if it goes without saying.

Essentially, Hunter became who he had to be to take care of Omega, and Omega followed that example to take care of Crosshair. This is, in my opinion, probably why we didn't get as much Hunter and Omega in season 3 as we did Crosshair and Omega, but not for the reason many may think. It was because Omega was already in Hunter's role, and Crosshair was in Omega's role.

It's really sweet to see how full circle the story has come from season 1. Crosshair is getting the treatment and attention Omega got in season 1, but he's getting it from Omega herself, because that's what Crosshair really needed. Hunter couldn't be in that role anymore because of their own hurt—plus, their relationship is just different. Instead, we get to see what Omega learned being passed on as she grew, and how it ultimately helped to heal Crosshair and the rest of them.

If you enjoyed this analysis, here are some other ones I've done:

Hunter and Crosshair in "The Return"

Crosshair taking the shot in "The Calvary Has Arrived"

[drabblesandsnippets]

Confidence, Part 2

Hot Bucky Summer 2024 - Week 4

Pairing: Sex Worker!Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female character (unnamed)

Prompt: FREE WEEK | [Optional prompts: “A” - Anal Hook, Acarophilia,  Age Play] @buckybarnesevents

Summary: (3k) Bucky is a full-service sex worker who enjoys helping women become more confident in their sexuality. This picks up right where part 1 ended. 

Warnings: 18+ Only. Very brief mention of an abusive ex. Mention of insecurities. Pet names (sweetheart, baby). Consent talk. Dirty talk. Praise. Oral (m receiving). Fingering. Squirting. 

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

Bucky’s the first person, other than herself, that’s ever been able to make her come. The intense experience has left her wanting to explore more with him, the need to bring him pleasure suddenly her only focus.

“Can I suck your cock?” 

She’s just full of surprises tonight.

The question has Bucky grinding harder against her, the delicious heat and wetness of her seeping through his underwear doing nothing to help him regain control. It’d be so easy to just give in to his carnal desires, to give her exactly what she’s asking for, but he’s a better man than that.

There was a reason she was reluctant to begin with and Bucky needs to make sure she’s not doing this out of some sort of obligation.

With a soft groan, he meets her gaze, one hand underneath her head to keep her attention as they move together. “Is that what you want, baby?” The increased pressure against her sensitive clit is almost too much, but he refuses to let up, watching as she gasps and trembles underneath him. “Or, are you only asking because you think I want you to suck my cock?”

She can’t seem to concentrate, her body and mind overwhelmed with conflicting thoughts. She’s breathless, clinging to him, her hips rocking against his, seeking out whatever he’ll give her - but she’s also worried that maybe she said the wrong thing. Maybe it’s not even something he wants. Maybe she overstepped.

Bucky doesn’t want her to get in her head about this - he needs her to say exactly what she’s thinking, without hesitation. Forcing himself to ignore the whine that tears out of her as he reluctantly pulls away, his own body just as desperate for hers, he murmurs, “Easy.” He reaches down to still her hips, his tattooed hand still cradling her head, encouraging her not to look away from him. “I need you to understand something, okay?”

She wants to keep him against her, but she doesn’t fight it, letting him be in control, her hands resting on his waist.

“You don’t owe anyone anything,” he tells her, the slow shake of his head conveying the seriousness of this conversation. “Certainly not me.”

A wave of regret and embarrassment washes over her, her first instinct to wish she never told Bucky about her ex. There’s nothing sexy about admitting your only experiences with giving head is with an ex who pressured you. 

The look he gives her isn’t one of pity though. It’s understanding. Compassion. Desire. All the things she’s longed for in a lover. 

She can’t let her insecurities win. Not anymore. Especially not while she’s lying naked and wanting underneath a man who already made her forget her own name. She wants more of that. More pleasure. More fun.

Taking a risk, she slides her hand down between them, not stopping until she reaches the waistband of his underwear, her fingertips tracing along the elastic. The grin that appears on his face gives her the last bit of confidence she needs to tell him, “I want this… not because it’s expected, I just… I want to make you feel good… if that’s okay?”

The need to reward her is too strong to deny and Bucky leans up, careful not to move away from her touch, wanting her to make the decision when to take the next step. Instead, his hand coasts from her hip up to her throat to loosely wrap around her neck, the intimate action causing pleasure to wash over both of them.

“I’d love nothing more than to have my cock in your pretty mouth, sweetheart,” he promises, his breath quickening to match hers, the sight of her body arching underneath him causing his cock to ache with need. “I just needed to make sure you want this as much as I do.”

There are a lot of things she wants right now, but none more than this. With her newfound confidence - and the fear that it’ll fade - she asks for permission to touch him, more than ready to keep going. 

Bucky’s eager response has her giggling, the sound fading into a moan when she finally makes contact. Just the softest brush of her palm along his covered erection and he’s moaning with her, pressing against her hand, his own fingers twitching around her throat.

She might not know what he likes, but that doesn’t mean she can’t learn. And if his immediate reactions are any indication, she’s already on the right track. 

Refusing to allow herself to overthink things, she keeps the same slow pace, stroking the length of him through his underwear, the obvious signs of pleasure spurring her on. There’s something intoxicating about being the sole reason for this beautiful man’s moans and grunts and she needs more.

“I want to suck your cock.” 

There’s no hesitation or hint of nerves in her words and it has Bucky cursing, his cock growing even harder for her. He can barely concentrate as it is, the taste of her still on his tongue, her bold touch leaving him breathless, and before he knows it, he’s helping her rid himself of the last bit of clothing, freeing his thick cock from the confines of his underwear.

This time it’s her turn to curse, a laugh bubbling out of her as she blurts out, “Well, now I know where your confidence comes from.” He’s bigger than she anticipated, despite the several times she’s felt him throughout the evening.

Bucky laughs along with her, proudly displaying his body, the mattress dipping as he kneels next to where she lays against the pillows. He’s aware he’s above average, and even though he doesn’t believe he’s nearly as intimidating as she’s making it seem, he’s quick to tell her, “I appreciate the ego stroke.”

Taking advantage of the obvious set up, she reaches out to touch him again, a playful grin lighting up her features as she asks, “Do you appreciate this kind of stroke too?” 

If he wasn’t suddenly overwhelmed by the warm grip around his cock, he’d be able to tell her how proud of her he is. For allowing herself to be in control, for asking for what she wants, for having fun and letting herself be completely in the moment with him. But the only thing that comes out of him is a soft grunt mixed with laughter, “Fuck yes.”

She doesn’t need any more convincing than that and starts a slow rhythm, using the pooling pre-cum at the tip to get him slick. She’s mesmerized by the way his breathing gets faster, the slight tensing of his thighs each time she works her hand over the head of his cock, the look on his face giving her just as much pleasure as his touch is.

With his left hand on the headboard to keep himself steady, his eyes follow the path his other hand takes, just in awe of her body as she is of his. The slight bump of her collarbone, the swell of her breasts, the softness of her stomach. And god, her thighs. He wants them wrapped around his head again, to feel her squeezing him as she comes.

Bucky almost asks for it. The image of him burying his face between her thick thighs while she sucks his cock has him thrusting against her hand. She’d probably let him too, but this isn’t about him. She was clear about what she wanted and he’s not going to push for anything else right now. 

Not that it’s hard for him to give in anyway, the hungry look in her eyes encouraging him to move closer, his cock soon within reach of her mouth. And then every thought leaves him. The need to taste her again, the desire to suggest a different position for her comfort, all of it gets shoved to the back of his mind. 

The slow swirl of her wet tongue quickly makes his breath catch and he loses focus, his hand stilling on her thigh, his fingers gripping her soft skin. “Fuck,” he exhales.

She’s already moaning, the salty taste making her crave more of him as her hand starts to stroke her saliva along his cock. She can’t get over how hard he is for her, barely having done anything yet, and the realization that everything she does seems to be turning him on has her comparing this to previous experiences.

There won’t be any second-guessing herself though, and as she pulls back to look up at him, her hand keeps moving, not wanting to stop the pleasure she’s giving him. She can tell it’s hard for him to concentrate, but she still asks the question, trying not to blush. “Will you tell me if I do something wrong?”

For a second, all Bucky can do is blink, his breath shallow from the way she’s touching him, the occasional brush of her thumb over the tip of his cock making him stutter. “Not… not gonna happen.”

She briefly bites her lip, his reactions causing her body to pulse and she resists the urge to touch herself, wanting all of her attention to be on him right now. With a soft giggle, she asks, “Because there’s no such thing as a bad blow job?”

Bucky grins and shakes his head. “No, sweetheart.” His free hand moves off the headboard to tenderly cup her face and his thumb slides over her bottom lip, the bit of saliva there making her even more gorgeous. “There are definitely bad blow jobs - if anyone involved isn’t enjoying themselves, no one’s gonna have a good experience.” 

Her words aren’t needed, but she still feels compelled to say them. “I’m enjoying myself.” 

“I know.” The grin on his face grows at the same moment his lips part and he exhales sharply again, the tip of her tongue teasing over the pad of his thumb almost making him forget what he wants to say. “Just… keep doing whatever feels good, okay? ‘Cause everything you do feels fucking amazing to me.”

She doesn’t need more instructions than that, and after letting his thumb slip from between her lips, she guides his cock back into her mouth, sliding the head along her tongue. She follows her instincts, finding an easy rhythm, listening to the way his breathing changes with each pass of her hand working in tandem with her mouth.

The incredible sounds she’s already eliciting from him ignite the fire inside of her, and she shifts, using the pillow underneath her shoulder for support. Her elbow digs into the mattress to give her more leverage and she starts moving faster, paying attention to the way her tongue flicking against the sensitive glands has him gripping the back of her head.

Careful not to take charge of the pace, Bucky runs his fingers through her hair and allows himself to get lost in the moment, his eyes never straying from her. The stretch of her lips around him, the occasional string of saliva that keeps him connected to her when she pulls back to take a breath, the perfect way she keeps stroking his cock.

“God,” he breathes, “you feel so good, baby.” 

She hums against him and he nearly loses it, his hips tensing, wanting to thrust into her mouth. He holds himself back, taking the opportunity to start touching her again, his hand moving from her thigh to her large breasts, the sight of her tits bouncing with each bob of her head driving him crazy.

The moment his fingers gently pinch one of her nipples, she gasps and pulls back, driven by lust to do everything she can to make him lose his mind. She slides her hand up, stroking just the tip of his cock, and tilts her head, slowly dragging her tongue along the underside of his shaft, all the way down to his balls.

“Oh fuck,” Bucky curses immediately, his cock twitching, oozing more pre-cum, and he’s overcome with the urge to praise her, the words tumbling out of his mouth between soft grunts. “Look at you… Such a good girl… Doing so good for me…”

It’s too much, each utterance making her body pulse with arousal and soon her hips shift, spreading her thighs wide, her pussy just begging to be touched. She doesn’t even give him a chance to react though before she’s taking his cock deep in her mouth again, the head brushing the back of her throat.

The gag she makes barely even registers as her free hand moves between her legs, seeking out her swollen clit for a bit of relief. She’s so turned on and the only thing that would make this better is if Bucky finally stops holding back. She wants nothing more than for him to fuck her mouth.

And all it takes is just a bit of encouragement from her, the hand on his cock sliding between his thighs to grab his ass, pulling him towards her. The words spill out of him unfiltered, his hand on her head gripping her hair as he tentatively thrusts into her mouth, “Is this what you need, baby? For me to fuck that pretty mouth while you play with your pussy?”

It’s enough to almost make her come and she shifts, opening her mouth wider, welcoming his thrusts as he starts to move a bit faster, both his hands tangling in her hair for leverage. It’s never been like this for her and she can’t get enough, doing her best to relax her throat as she takes him deeper each time, hungry to take all of him.

Bucky doesn’t want to overwhelm her, but he follows her lead, holding her head steady as makes her take more of him, his body tensing at the tight heat of her throat. “Shit, baby, oh my god.” He’s having a hard time breathing, let alone talking, but he wants to keep praising her, loving the way his dirty talk brings her pleasure. “You’re so good… taking my cock so well… You wanna come like this? With my cock down your throat, sweetheart?”

Her fingers speed up, pressing hard against her clit, the familiar tingle building deep inside of her, and she can only imagine how she looks. Tears wetting her lashes, her saliva dripping out of her mouth, her hand gripping his ass as she moans and whines around his cock. 

“That’s it,” he growls, “don’t fucking stop. Want you to come for me... Show me how much you love sucking my cock.”

That’s all it takes, and her hips lift off the bed at the exact moment that Bucky pulls out of her mouth, his grip on her hair forcing her head back, letting him get to witness her fall apart for him. The cry of pleasure that pours out of her has him nearly coming with her and he reaches down to cover her fingers with his, keeping the pressure up as her legs clamp around both their hands.

“Oh, good girl.”

“I’m so fucking proud of you.”

“You did so good for me.”

She’s so overwhelmed, intense waves of pleasure rushing over her, that all she can do is grind her hips, chasing the euphoria, even after it starts to become too much, her body quickly growing sensitive. 

Bucky already seems to know her body well though, how to keep her right where he needs her to prolong the feelings, and his fingers soon seek out her entrance, her walls still fluttering with aftershocks from her orgasm.

“Oh god,” she gasps, reaching out to hold his arm as her trembling thighs spread for him, already desperate for more. “Bucky… I… it’s…” She doesn’t even know what she’s trying to tell him, but he immediately soothes her, settling next to her while he teases her with just the tips of his fingers.

“Just relax for me, sweetheart,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss her softly, trying to find a balance between helping her catch her breath while also wanting to make her come again. “I’ve got you.” 

Her mind is still foggy, her thoughts hazy with the lingering effects of coming so hard, all because she was so turned on from giving him head. But, she can’t stop thinking that his pleasure was cut short for hers, and now she’s come twice. “What about you?”

“What about me, baby?” Bucky’s grinning, knowing exactly what she’s asking, but he wants her to tell him - to at least try. She’s come so far in such a short time, he doesn’t want her to regress.

She doesn’t want to either, and with a soft exhale of a laugh, she tries to explain how she feels selfish, whispering, “I… you didn’t… fuck.” It’s so hard to string a coherent sentence together, his fingers still stroking along her wetness, and another soft laugh leaves her as her hold on his bicep tightens.

Bucky takes pity on her, brushing his nose along her cheek, his soft beard tickling her jaw. “You made me feel so good.” Her breath catches and he keeps going, her slick pussy pulsing each time he teases her entrance. “But, right now, all I can think about is feeling you come around my fingers again. Is that okay?”

For just a split second, she almost tells him no. But, that’s her anxiety talking - her insecurities telling her that she’s already had enough pleasure and they should be focusing on him. But, if there’s anything he’s proved to her tonight, it’s that making his partner feel good is just as satisfying as being on the receiving end.

As soon as she’s telling him yes, he’s thanking her, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine and he pulls back just enough to watch her. The way her thighs tense and shake, her soft gasps and shuddering exhales, the fluttering of her eyelashes. He can’t get enough of her and the urge to fuck her senseless drives him to suddenly fill her with his fingers.

He wastes no time before he’s curling them, pressing hard against her front wall, massaging her g-spot, reducing her to nothing but breathless whines and cries of “oh my god” again. Her head thrown back against the pillow, her eyes shut tight, each stroke coaxing more wetness out of her.

Bucky’s on a mission, remembering how she told him she squirts sometimes. She’s never done it with anyone else before, and he wants to be the first person to have the pleasure of witnessing it. To be the first person to make it happen.

The only thing she can do is go along for the ride, her left hand spreading her pussy for him, giving him the perfect opportunity to grind his palm against her clit, his soft words of praise filling her head. She can already feel the pressure building, his fingers never letting up, fucking her perfectly as she cries out of his name.

She thought she’d be nervous or hesitant about this part, but it’s impossible. He’s just as turned on as she is, enjoying himself right along with her, and she wants to give him everything. Especially when he growls, “Give me what I want. Squirt all over my fucking hand, baby. Let me feel it.” 

Whatever he wants, she’ll give him.

With a loud gasp of a moan, her body lets go, her wetness soaking his palm, the wet, obscene noises pushing her over the edge. Her breath gets caught in her throat and her back arches, her thighs threatening to close but Bucky quickly sits up, using his free hand to hold her open, fucking her through her orgasm, making her squirt over and over.

“You’re so fucking hot.”

“Holy shit, look at that.”

“Never seen anything so beautiful.”

“So fucking perfect, baby.”

He doesn’t stop until he’s sure she can’t take anymore - the twitching of her thighs, the tensing of her stomach, the soft whimpers telling him exactly when to pull back, immediately gathering her in his arms. HIs fingers don’t leave her until his lips are on hers, swallowing the whine she makes from the loss, kissing her passionately as she shudders underneath him.

Bucky’s so proud of her, and he can’t wait to show her everything else she’s capable of tonight.

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Hot Bucky Summer Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[willowed-wisp]

relationship headcanons [ ghost ]

SFW

- You didn’t know what to expect being set up by your childhood friend Kyle Garrick

- Having an inkling it would be someone he worked with in the ‘parachute regiment’. So you expected 5’11”, stocky build and maybe a Mohawk?

- What you got was 6’4”, unable to tell what build he had because of the hoodies and a mask?

- He scared you to begin with, especially when you heard his voice. And Simon was used to that, that’s why he didn’t date… he couldn’t remember the last time he had sex or even spoke romantically to a woman.

- You thought about walking out on the date, but held in there. Realising maybe he was so awkward around the other people in the pub. “Wanna take a walk?”

- “Think you can keep up?” That was the first confident thing Simon had said that night.

- Maybe walking along the canal wasn’t the best choice but he seemed harmless, not a serial killer… He leant against the railings… his eyes reflected the street lamp, the night a dreary sight.

- You went to start your car, no such luck- like your date. He hadn’t told you one thing about himself… date failed and now your car refused to work with you. Your phone at 1% charge… you couldn’t even call a taxi.

- When you started to walk to the pub, an off-road jet black 4x4 pulled up beside you. It was Simon. “Car trouble?”

- “Yeah…”

- “Get in.” Was it a bad idea to jump into the car of someone you’d only just met and communicated with through Kyle? Yes. Were you in any position to turn down his kindness? No. “I’ll drive ya home…”

- Then the pin dropped, “My house keys are in the car,” A dry laugh came from him- trying to imagine what he looked like under that thing.

- “I can’t leave you on the street…” And that’s what led you straight into the passenger seat. His truck was spotless and surprisingly comfortable, like nobody had ever sat in that spot before you. “You can stay at mine for the night, don’t tell Garrick… he’ll have a field day….”

- “Thanks, but you could just drop me at a bus stop?” Not that you wanted that, not that you wanted anything from the good samaritan at the wheel.

- His head shook, “In this area? No chance, love,” You wondered how long he had travelled to go on this date because he had been driving half an hour before he pulled into a drive. From how he looked around getting out of the car and how high the garden hedge was, you thought it was lucky he hadn’t thrown a bag over your head.

- Not that you’d remember where he had taken you anyway.

- His house was almost barren, not many belongings. “Kitchen is on your left, living room on the right and bathroom is upstairs the first door you see…” He was talking much more than he had in the crowded environment.

- “D’ya have a phone charger? I’ll call Kyle to come get me tomorrow to look at the car…” He just gave you a stare, then you realised. Kyle didn’t live in your area anymore, over a hundred miles away. “Fuck…”

- “I’ll take a look at it in the morning…”

- “You sure? I can pay you fuel money,”

- Long story short, Simon turned down your money. And he kept coming back after he fixed your car, jotting your number down in case it gave you any more trouble.

- He doesn’t take his mask off until you have sex for the first time

- After that he rarely wears it when in private with you

- It’s weird when you have guests over (TF141) and he wears the damned thing

- You make sure you wash the masks every other day and make sure Simon alternates

- Never gets spots from them, either.

- Has tattoos but would never get a matching one with anyone

- He thinks it’s a jinx on any relationship or friendship

- You’re probably his first proper relationship

- Discloses he’s in the SAS when he gets deployed about a year into your relationship

- You never realised how worried sick you’d be until he got through the front door

- Bundles you in his arms, never taking the smell of your hair, perfume and skin for granted again

- Fixes all of your car troubles- he may have gone into mechanics had he had a settled childhood

- Finds it difficult to introduce you to the family, not because of you. Because of the baggage.

- His mother welcomed you but with caution in hand. Until you got talking to her and she just seemed to open up to you.

- She invites you round for dinner every Sunday. It makes Simon smile

- Never worked through his emotional baggage about his dad

- So when the subject of kids is brought up, he shudders

- You don’t press the matter, not with Simon

- He’s stubborn and you seem to be the only one who can change his mind

- Simon doesn’t fall in love easily but when he does, it’s deep and he’s never leaving your side

- Much more of a goofball than other people see- those dad jokes are primed and ready for an occasion

- Not a jealous guy, he knows you’re his…

- He’s more worried about you when he’s away

- It’s like a hole in his heart being away from you and he strives to get out uninjured and alive not to burden you

- Knows that if you can get past his work, you’ll get through anything

NSFW

- Your first time was very spontaneous, two months into you seeing him.

- The back of his car, you couldn’t remember the cause of it but you remember making out in the back of his truck

- Going out into the woodlands to cool off but instead, you were hitched on his hips and fingers dragging across his muscular shoulders.

- Clung to each other while his body rolled into yours, you biting down slightly on his clothes. Instead of purring his into the daylight air.

- It didn’t end there, the back of the truck and back at his.

- Practically never ending until the morning… where you’d lay on his chest. He was stroking through your hair

- Whenever he’s asleep, he recounts those memories and every encounter after that.. just so he can be close to you when away

- Surprisingly gentle- knows he’s a big guy

- Though he’s not without his rugged potential. Prefers not to be too rough

- Has sexual experience but nothing above 5 women and then it wasn’t reoccurring

- Doesn’t have a vice for sex, he loves feeling close to you

- Loves facing you, he loves that intimacy

- He’s quite an intimate guy

- Never wears the mask when you have sex

- If you ask him, he refuses… finds it difficult to open up about work and his experiences

- Closer than anybody else would be able to get, over his dead body

————

cod m.list | request guidelines | ghost m.list

[candycandy00]

Once Upon a Time - A Sukuna x Reader Fanfic Part 3 (Final)

Retold fairytales featuring the JJK men! This is Sleeping Beauty featuring Sukuna! After your parents are killed, leaving you as the young queen, you hire the mysterious and violent Sukuna to be your Captain of the Guard to protect you from an evil fairy’s curse. You’re in love with him, but he just keeps refusing you! 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Read Gojo x Cinderella Here!

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. AU. Reader as Sleeping Beauty, Sukuna as her Captain of the Guard. Oral sex. Rough sex. Creampie. 

Any feedback is adored! Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more and @benkeibear.

Sitting on your throne, Sukuna standing guard at your side, you listen as your advisers try to convince you not to go looking for the old fairy. 

“Surely she’ll give up now!” one of them says. “The curse didn’t work!”

Sukuna gives him a withering stare. “We don’t know that the curse is over. We don’t know what will happen if she’s pricked by a needle again.”

You nod. “If I just fall asleep again, that’s no problem, since we know how to fix it.”

Sukuna grins. “I’m ready to perform my duty at anytime.”

The other advisers look away from him awkwardly. 

“The problem is,” you continue, “when the good fairy altered the curse, we don’t know if that was a one time deal, of it it applies to every time I touch a needle. I can’t risk finding out.”

The lady adviser looks at Sukuna. “And you believe the old fairy will try to kill her in more conventional ways now?”

“She will. And I’ll protect the queen, but it would be much simpler for all of us if I just go kill the old bitch.”

The lady adviser nods. “I see. The two of you have my support. We will look after the kingdom in your absence.”

The other two advisers seem to bristle at that statement. “This is a terrible idea!” one of them shouts, looking directly at you. “You have no heir! If you’re killed on this fool’s errand, the kingdom will be thrown into chaos!”

“I won’t be killed,” you say firmly. “Sukuna will be with me. I’m confident that he will keep me alive.”

The third adviser throws his hands up as if in dismay. “You don’t even know where to look! The woods are vast and sprawling! How will you find the old fairy?”

Sukuna speaks up again. “I know someone who can help with that. They’re a bit of a fairy themself.” 

That piques your interest. Sukuna has never revealed anything about his life before he met you, so even hearing about an acquaintance of his is new territory. “Let’s go see this person you know,” you tell him. 

No one else objects as the two of you prepare to leave. You wear a simpler dress, something easy to move in and won’t have your tailor in tears when you return with it dirty and ripped. You pack a bag with dried foods, water, and some basic supplies, and then the two of you head out. 

The walk through the town is arduous. So many of the people have somehow already heard about your brief time asleep and are happy to see you up and about. You don’t know how news traveled so fast, but you’re happy you can put the people at ease. 

Once you reach the edge of the woods, Sukuna steps in, seemingly with no thought or care for the dangers. All your life, you’ve been told to stay away from the woods, that great beasts live there, as well as old magic and wicked fairies and all manner of horrible things. So to see someone simply walk on in without worry surprises you.  

He turns to look at you. “Getting cold feet, princess?”

You shake your head. “Not at all. I just thought you might escort me like a proper gentleman,” you say, stepping in after him. 

“So you want me to hold your hand?”

“No! I’m perfectly fine walking on my own!”

He gives you an irritated look. “Are you really acting shy about holding hands after I’ve already fucked you?”

You feel your face heating up. “Must you speak so crudely?”

“You like when I speak crudely,” he says. 

You stare at him, at his strange tattoos. “You are an odd man. Where do you even come from?”

He’s walking a few steps in front of you now, leading you deeper into the forest. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

For the next hour, the two of you don’t talk much, only occasional questions, until Sukuna suddenly stops and holds one hand up. “We’re in their territory. They’ll be along as soon as they sense me.”

You notice the air seems much colder here, in this part of the woods. There are even a few icicles hanging from some of the upper branches of trees! 

The two of you only walk a few more minutes before a person seems to appear out of nowhere, standing a few feet ahead. From here, you can’t tell if they’re a man or a woman, but they’re clearly beautiful. They’re wearing strange robes, of material you can’t identify, and their hair is a shiny silver color that glints in the patches of sunlight breaking through the trees. 

They look at you with a bored expression before turning their gaze to Sukuna. Then they immediately rush forward and drop into a bow before him. 

“Lord Sukuna! I welcome you to my home. What can I do to serve you?”

You look at the newcomer in shock, then turn to Sukuna. “Lord?”

He waves his hand dismissively. “A remnant of a different life.” Then he looks down at the bowing figure. “Uraume, you know these woods well. Do you know where the one called the ‘old fairy’ lives?”

Uraume looks up before slowly standing. “I have an idea of where she resides, though I’m not certain. I can go and confirm if you like.”

Sukuna regards Uraume with a complicated expression, and lowers his voice slightly. “The magic you have here, is it enough to deal with the old fairy if she attacks you?”

Uraume blinks, seeming surprised. “I appreciate your concern, my lord. But I won’t engage with her. She uses old magic, the kind baked into the origins of this world. I will only confirm her presence and return here.”

Sukuna nods. “Be careful. Don’t leave me alone here.”

Uraume’s cold eyes slide over to you. “If I may say, my lord, it looks like you aren’t alone.”

Sukuna glances at you as well, a look of irritation on his face. “I’ve softened too much. Killing the old fairy should improve my mood.”

Uraume gives another quick bow, and then they leave. You approach Sukuna, feeling like he’s suddenly a different person. You feel like you need to talk, to start a conversation, anything to call him back to you. 

“How do you know Uraume?” you ask. 

“They’re a former servant of mine,” he answers, not looking you in the face. Even his tone of voice seems different. 

“Servant? Are you… some kind of royalty? From another kingdom?”

He laughs. “I’ve been called a king, but I’m not royalty.”

You frown. “What does that mean?”

He looks at you finally, and his gaze is so cold, it’s frightening. What happened to him? “You’re asking too many questions. My patience is growing thin.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you say, your voice weaker than you intended. “I didn’t mean to pry. I just thought… we were growing closer…”

His harsh gaze softens slightly. “Don’t apologize. Seeing Uraume again has reminded me of who I once was. And I slipped back into my old mannerisms.”

“You talk as if you’re a different person entirely now,” you say, stepping closer. 

He gives you that familiar grin, and you feel your unease begin to fade. “I am, princess.”

Uraume returns a few minutes later, much faster than you expected. They look as if they never even left, totally calm, not a single hair out of place. It doesn’t appear that they were in any danger. 

They bow before Sukuna again, and you realize this makes you uncomfortable. As a ruler yourself, you’ve never demanded anyone bow to you, at least not like this. A slight inclination of the head as you pass has always been perfectly acceptable, or nothing at all. What kind of king was Sukuna if his subjects felt the need to bow so deeply and so quickly? 

“I’ve found her, my lord.”

“Good. Lead the way,” Sukuna replies, and Uraume rises smoothly to their feet. 

As you and Sukuna follow them deeper into the woods, your curiosity gets the better of you again. “They don’t mind coming with us? We’ll be putting them in danger.”

Sukuna scoffs. “Uraume has never minded danger for my sake. And by some cruel joke of fate, they’re much more powerful than me right now.”

The way he says it, as if that wasn’t always the case, only makes you more curious. Uraume is clearly a fairy of the woods. Even you can sense the magic coming from them. How could a mere human man ever be more powerful than that? But you keep the question to yourself for now. The distance in Sukuna’s eyes earlier still worries you. 

**************************

Sukuna walks a few steps ahead to fall in pace with Uraume. The former servant glances at him, and it’s obvious they feel a measure of discomfort not walking behind him. 

“The old fairy,” Sukuna says, “How strong is she?”

Uraume pulls a low branch back, keeping it from scraping Sukuna. “I’ve heard she is physically weak, but her magical power easily dwarfs my own. She’s cunning, and has many tricks to rely on.”

Sukuna feels a rush of excitement. He hasn’t fought a powerful opponent in so very long. He’s smiling as he says, “So she could easily kill me.”

Uraume apparently realizes what he’s thinking. “She should be quite stimulating, my lord.”

Suddenly Sukuna remembers the woman walking a few steps behind, fragile and delicate, the old fairy’s main target. He should feel concern, perhaps even fear for her safety. But the thrill of the coming battle has overrided all other feelings. 

“Uraume, I need you to vow something for me.”

They look at him curiously. “Of course, Lord Sukuna. Whatever you wish.”

He glances back at the queen. “Protect her. From everything. No matter who or what you have to fight, let no harm come to her.”

Uraume looks over their shoulder at the woman. “I vow it, my lord. It seems she has become important to you.”

Sukuna shrugs. “She makes the time pass faster.”

Uraume says nothing more, and soon they pass into a section of the woods much darker than the rest. It’s definitely still daytime, the sun is certainly still up, but here in these woods it’s dark as night. The trees grow taller, closer together, like silent guards. Their branches are gnarled, their foliage mostly absent except for patches of brown. No flowers bloom here, and the air crackles with ancient magic. 

Sukuna sticks close to the queen, who is doing her best to show no fear, while Uraume leads them on, seeming cool and calm as always. Up ahead, he spots a castle. Unlike the queen’s well-kept (if relatively modest) castle, this one is dilapidated. Dark, twisting vines cover the place like a veil, and a strange creeping fog floats around their legs. It’s a place designed to strike fear into the hearts of men. But Sukuna only feels anticipation. 

The vines part as they reach the castle, as if they’re sentient. The heavy wooden door opens, and a figure clad in black robes emerges from the shadows. From back here, it’s hard to make out the details of her face, but Sukuna can feel it: this is the old fairy.  

All the fairies were given simple titles. The good fairy, the ice fairy (the name given to Uraume), the wood fairy, etc. And Sukuna assumed the old fairy was simply, well, old. He did not expect her to be positively ancient, probably older than this world itself. She looks like any elderly lady, but he can feel the old and powerful magic radiating from her. 

She looks at him, her eyes focusing on him instead of the queen. 

“Why are you here, interloper?” she asks, her voice a crackle of dark energy. 

Sukuna raises an eyebrow at that. “You know who I am?”

She laughs humorlessly. “Anyone with true power knows who you are, Fallen One. Tell me, what has it been like, cursed to live a thousand lives as a weak and powerless human?”

Sukuna grins at her. “It’s not been so bad. Power comes in many forms. I’ve made due with what I can grasp.”

The old fairy finally looks at the queen behind him. “You were foolish enough to bring her to me? Or are you hoping for some sort of trade?”

“I came to take your fucking head, you decrepit old bitch!”

Sukuna doesn’t miss the flicker of fear that passes over the old fairy’s face. It’s amusing that he can inspire such fear even in this weakened state. 

He lunges forward, drawing his sword. The vines move to ensnare him, slithering about like snakes, trying to wrap around his limbs. His combat instincts resurface like muscle memory, his body dodging before his slow human brain can even process the attacks. 

As he cuts through the vines and closes in on the fairy, a great burst of green light erupts from the ground, aimed straight for him. He avoids the light, not sure what sort of attack it is but knowing better than to let it hit him. 

He glances back, sees that Uraume is beside the queen and has formed a shield of ice around the two of them, then refocuses on the fairy. 

Dodging those bursts of light, he rushes forward at incredible speed, aiming his sword forward. He realizes he’s smiling, enjoying the thrill of battle as the vines and green light blasts try to impede him. The old fairy makes a motion with her hands, trying to conjure something to defend herself with, but she’s too slow for Sukuna’s incredible speed. 

The blade pierces her body, running straight through her chest like a hot knife through butter. She looks up at him, and the lack of terror on her face tells him this is not over. It was way too easy.  

A giant burst of the green light bursts from her body, and he jumps back in time to avoid it, pulling his sword out of her in the process. He watches as the old fairy’s shape contorts, shifting, growing. It’s bathed in the green light, creating a shield he can’t touch. 

Within minutes, the human-shaped old fairy has transformed into a massive black dragon, its wings sprawled out behind it as it roars at the sky. The green light glows from its open mouth, and it begins walking toward Sukuna. 

Any man would be struck by terror, would flee for his life before such darkness and raw power. But Sukuna is not just any man. His heart is pounding, his adrenaline flaring within this weak human body, his soul remembering battles from many lifetimes ago. Ah yes, the person he used to be would have crushed this pitiful dragon within seconds.

The dragon rises up, its long neck extending skyward, as its mouth opens wider and a beam of green light shoots out. Sukuna moves to dodge, wondering if he could tank a direct hit, when a wall of ice appears before him. The ice shatters, but absorbs the bulk of the attack. Sukuna looks back at Uraume. In another life, he would have scolded them for interfering, but he’s different now. He’s a human fighting a supernaturally powerful ancient being. He wonders idly if the people who fought him so long ago felt the way he does now. 

If so, they owe him some gratitude. Because he hasn’t felt this kind of exhilaration since-

His thoughts are interrupted by another beam of green light, this one obvious enough for him to dodge before the dragon even opens its mouth. He’s beginning to read its moves, to predict what it will do. For all the old fairy’s power, she clearly hasn’t seen much actual combat. She probably scares off most threats before having to launch a single attack. Compared to Sukuna’s battle sense, she’s practically a newborn babe when it comes to fighting. 

And that is her undoing. She can’t follow or anticipate Sukuna’s movements, and so he gets above and behind her by dodging, weaving, and jumping off the wall of the castle beside her. He swings his sword down, chopping off the dragon’s head with one brutal swipe. 

Green light explodes from the dragon’s neck, and engulfs Sukuna as he stands nearby. It doesn’t hurt, but instead seems to be entering his body. It’s the old fairy’s power! It’s transferring to him! 

He stands completely still, letting the power flow into his body, filling him. It feels so good! So… familiar! 

He laughs loudly as his body glows. Uraume and the queen step closer. 

“Look, Uraume!” he calls, his voice sounding thunderous. “Real power! After all these lifetimes of weakness, to feel power like this flowing through me again… I’ve become myself!”

Uraume bows low. “I am pleased to see it, my lord!”

Sukuna’s gaze slides over to the other person in the woods with them - the queen of a tiny, insignificant kingdom. He’d almost forgotten she’s here. She’s not bowing, which irritates him. And she’s staring at him as his newfound power swirls around, warm and energized air whipping her hair and dress around her. In her eyes is not fear, but sadness. Ridiculous. She should fear him like all the other pitiful humans in this world. After all, their new king has arrived. 

“Insolent woman,” he says, directing a thin beam of the green light in her direction. He’d intended to shoot it very close to her as a warning, but a sudden wall of ice appears, blocking it. 

Sukuna looks sharply at Uraume. “You would get in my way?”

Uraume looks troubled, a rare expression on their usually cold face. “I am fulfilling my vow, Lord Sukuna. You made me swear no harm would come to her.”

Sukuna scoffs. “That was when I was weak. Human. I’m back to my old self now. I release you from your vow.”

Uraume is still bowing low to the ground. “My lord… you know you will always have my loyalty above all else, but you seemed quite desperate for her to be protected.”

Sukuna looks back at the woman, realizing she’s moved closer. She’s pressing against the force of his power to approach him. What could possess her to be so foolish? He decides to make it easy for her, by moving to her himself. His motion is so fast, it must seem to her like he teleported directly in front of her. 

Her eyes are wet with tears. “What’s happened to you?” she asks, her voice fragile. She reaches up one hand as if to touch his face. The nerve of this weak creature! 

He knocks her hand away from him and gives her the sort of glare that had monsters and men alike begging for their lives. “I’ve returned to my former self, to who I was meant to be. Your lack of fear and respect annoys me.”

She shakes her head, and the tears around her eyes glitter like stars. “I don’t fear you. I fear losing you.”

He narrows his red eyes. “I am not yours to lose.” 

She looks so hurt as she reaches up again. “Sukuna, please, I need you!”

He grabs her wrist, such a frail little thing. He could snap it with a touch, reduce her to a wailing lump of flesh at his feet. But he suddenly remembers the night before, the way he held her in his arms, the taste of her skin, the way she felt beneath him, the way she clenched his cock. 

Such things should mean nothing to him. He’s had thousands of women across his many lifetimes. But he releases her wrist and says, “Bow, and I might keep you as a concubine.”

Her eyes widen. Is that heartbreak within their depths? He almost grins. He can play with her as much as he likes later, after he establishes who the true ruler is.  

The hand he just released moves up again, but this time, her open palm strikes his face. The slap was so weak and unexpected, he didn’t sense its approach. For him, it was nothing. But the audacity! The insult! He looks at her, ready to rip her limb from limb, but he freezes when he sees her face. 

She’s wearing that haughty, defiant look that he enjoyed so much, crossing her arms as she says, “No, you bow!”

The whole thing is so shocking, he doesn’t know whether to laugh or slaughter her instantly. 

“You called me your queen!” she says. “You said you would protect me! You said I’m yours! If that’s true, then you’re mine as well. I won’t give you up so easily, even to your former self!”

He stares at her, at the fierce determination in her eyes, and he’s caught between the desire to break her for good or to pull her into his arms. His past self warring with the man he’s become over these long lifetimes. 

“Foolish woman. You have no idea who I am. Even the most powerful creatures trembled before me!”

“I don’t care,” she says. “That person you were, that king or ‘fallen one’ or whatever you called yourself… he can fuck off!”

Sukuna looks at her, at this weak little human who has somehow, against all odds, managed to bend him to her will. He remembers what he told the old fairy. “Power comes in many forms.” He hadn’t realized in that moment that the most powerful thing in all the worlds is something he’d long ago dismissed as worthless. 

He clenches his fist, feeling the power course through him for a final time, committing the sensation to memory. Then, he releases it. It flows out of his body like a waterfall, pouring into the world around him. And just like that, he’s human again. Weak. Normal. 

His queen watches the power dissipate, then wraps her arms around his neck. 

“I hope you know what I gave up for you,” he says. 

She leans in closer, kissing him as she says, “I’ll make it up to you tonight.”

************************

You untie the laces of your nightdress, letting the silky sheer fabric fall from your shoulders and pool on the floor, revealing that you wore nothing underneath it. Sukuna’s eyes rake over your form from his place on the bed, sitting on the edge of it, already undressed, thighs open invitingly. 

As you step over to him, you look over his tattoos. “So they just appear on your body? In every new life?”

He follows your gaze to the black lines across his body. “They usually appear when I hit puberty. That’s when my memories of past lives come back as well. They’re probably supposed to be part of the curse, but I like them.”

“I like them too,” you say, tracing over one of them with your fingertip. 

“You always do,” he says with a strange smile. 

What does that mean? You decide to leave the question for now. There are others you want to ask. 

“So,” you say as he pulls you into his lap, “you were evil in your original lifetime?”

He grins as one of his hands slides around your body to squeeze your breast. “I’ve been evil in every lifetime, princess.”

You don’t mind him still calling you that, especially in intimate moments like this. You smile, planting quick kisses along his jaw and neck. “Really? What kinds of things did you do?”

“I killed a lot of people. More people than you can imagine.”

“Did they deserve it?”

His grin fades slightly. “Some did. Most didn’t.”

“Why did you kill them then?” 

“Because I could,” he says simply, looking you in the eyes. “Does that bother you?”

You think for a moment. “No, because you’re not that person anymore. And if he ever tries to take over again, I’ll chase him away.”

He watches you slip out of his lap and down to your knees in front of him. You maintain eye contact while reaching one hand up to grasp the huge cock standing at attention between his legs. You slide your hand up and down, just getting a feel for the sheer size of it. You lean forward and kiss the tip, sweetly, like it’s a cuddly pet, then lick the clear fluid that smeared over your lips. 

Looking up at him, you’re not surprised that he’s impossible to fluster in moments like this. Having memories of all his past lives means he probably remembers having his dick sucked thousands of times. But there is another way to get a reaction out of him. 

“I do hope you’ll dress appropriately for the royal wedding,” you say, just before taking almost his entire cock into your mouth, letting it slide down your throat. 

“Wedding?! Ah… fuck!” he groans, tossing his head back as you gag and sputter around his length. You’ve never done this before and you didn’t realize how hard it is to keep breathing while practically swallowing a massive cock. 

You pull away, stroking the shaft that’s now coated in your spit with one hand. “You’ll be king consort,” you say, then you extend your tongue and run it along the underside of his dick, from base to tip, one hand still stroking him while the other gently squeezes his balls. 

He looks down at you, his usual smug expression cracking just a little. “I don’t remember agreeing to marry you, princess.”

Your tongue is swirling around his tip. “Oh? I’m sure my advisers would prefer I marry a royal from a neighboring kingdom.”

Suddenly his hand is in your hair, pressing your head forward, effectively shoving his cock back into your mouth. You look up at him as he pushes into your throat again, choking you. “There,” he says in that achingly smooth voice of his, “you’re much cuter with that bratty mouth of yours full of my cock.”

You make a whimpering sound as you struggle to suck air in through your nose, and after a few seconds he releases you. While you pull back and catch your breath, he gives you an almost pouty look. “As if I’d let another man touch what’s mine.”

Grinning up at him as your hand goes back to work, you lick your messy lips and say, “Royal wedding it is, then.”

He sighs in defeat as you wrap your lips around him again. “I suppose I’ll do you the favor of marrying you,” he says as you move your head back and forth, letting his cock pump in and out of your warm mouth. “Be grateful. I’ve never married anyone in any of my previous lifetimes.”

This surprises you, and makes you feel heated to know you’ll be his first wife. His hand is in your hair again, gentle this time, just enough force to let you know he’s in control. And when he’s ready, he pulls you back so that only his tip remains in your mouth, and then shoots his load into it, coating the entire inside.  

The amount of it takes you by surprise, and you have to start swallowing quickly to avoid spilling any. Pity, you would have liked to savor it. 

He doesn’t offer his hand to help you to your feet. You’ll have to work on teaching him to be a gentleman. Instead he’s moving aside to give you room on the bed. When you climb on, he pushes you onto your back and positions himself between your sprawled legs. He reaches down with one hand and rubs over your slit with his thumb, checking your wetness, then drags your lower half into his lap. 

“Ready for me to turn this proud queen into a blubbering mess again?” he asks, his cock rubbing against your folds. 

You frown. “I did not blubber! I was practically uncon-“

His cock slides in, this time going all the way to the hilt on the first thrust, making you gasp as your eyes roll back and your body jerks. 

He nestles himself against your cervix, then pulls almost all the way out before slamming back in, making you cry out pathetically. “What were you saying, princess?”

You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out. Only stilted moans and garbled cries. He’s so big, and he’s going so deep, your mind is going blank just like before. 

“I like you best like this,” he says with a laugh, pounding into you ruthlessly. “So fucked out you can’t even think straight.”

His hands are on your hips, gripping tightly, moving your body as he pleases. “You like it right… here…!” he grunts, hitting a spot that makes your eyes go wide and your fists grip the sheets beneath you. Your mouth falls open, a strangled yell escaping you. Oh god, this is even better than last time! 

One of his hands moves over, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing firm circles into it, making your whole body tremble and tears fill your eyes. Is this going to be a regular thing now? Him making you completely fall apart on his cock? 

“There she is,” he says, watching you quiver and cry. “There’s my pretty princess. Not so haughty now, are you?”

The pleasure is so strong, so intense, you genuinely worry that you’ll lose your mind to it. But you look up at Sukuna, and you realize he’ll always bring you back. So you let go, let the pleasure take you, and cry out loudly as your climax wracks your body. 

“Good girl,” he says, pulling your upper half up from the bed and into his arms, holding you tightly as he fills your womb. 

As you come down from your high, locked in Sukuna’s strong arms, his cock still buried inside you, you realize that both of you had defeated your curses today. And maybe, you’ve both placed new curses on each other, that you’ll never be complete without each other, never experience such blinding pleasure, such love, if you’re ever torn apart. 

You wrap your exhausted arms around him, knowing you’ll never let him go, and he’ll never give you up. 

[duhshereadz]

A collection of random angsty head cannons I have:

Jinx:

1. **Catlike Sleep**: Jinx can’t sleep deeply in beds. She curls up in random places like on top of shelves, under tables, or wedged into corners, feeling safer when she’s hidden away. Her sleep is fitful and light, as if she’s always waiting for something to go wrong.

2. **Toy Soldier Graveyard**: She keeps a box of broken inventions—bombs that didn’t detonate, scrap toys she made as Powder, and even the remains of her childhood monkey bomb. Sometimes she talks to the pieces like they’re old friends, asking them why they failed her.

3. **Ink Therapy**: Jinx tattoos herself every time she feels like she’s survived something traumatic. Her chaotic body art tells a story only she understands, each piece representing her victories, losses, and guilt.

Vi:

1. **Old Gloves**: Vi secretly still has the tattered gloves Vander gave her when she first started fighting. They’re too small for her now, but she keeps them tucked in her pocket during missions, like a lucky charm. She’s terrified they’ll wear away entirely one day.

2. **Loner Nights**: Vi sneaks out at night and wanders Zaun, sitting in quiet alleyways just to feel connected to her past. She sometimes leaves small tokens—flowers, coins, scraps of metal—for the ghosts of Vander, Mylo, and Claggor.

3. **Scar Stories**: Every scar on her body has a story, and she remembers each one. Sometimes, when she can’t sleep, she traces them with her fingers, recounting every fight, every failure, every moment she wasn’t strong enough to protect someone she loved.

Caitlyn:

1. **Sniper Rituals**: Before using her rifle, Caitlyn has a strange ritual where she whispers a silent apology to her targets. She doesn’t know why she does it—she just hates the idea of taking a life, even when it’s necessary.

2. **Tea for Two**: After particularly bad days, Caitlyn sets out two cups of tea in her room—one for herself, and one for a person she wishes she could talk to, whether it’s her father, her mother, or even Vi when she’s not around. She rarely drinks from the second cup.

3. **Trophy Room**: She has a secret drawer in her room filled with small tokens from cases she’s solved: a piece of fabric, a photo, a bullet casing. She uses them to remind herself why she fights for justice, but sometimes they just remind her of the people she couldn’t save.

Ekko:

1. **Clockwork Comfort**: When Ekko feels overwhelmed, he builds tiny mechanical birds and insects, winding them up and watching them flutter around his room. It’s his way of reminding himself that he can create life instead of just fighting against death.

2. **Grief Journal**: Ekko keeps a notebook where he writes letters to the friends he’s lost. Each entry starts with their name and a memory of something happy they shared, but by the end, he’s usually crying, scribbling apologies for not being able to save them.

3. **Old Music Box**: He has a broken music box from his childhood that he refuses to fix. It belonged to someone important—maybe his mother or a close friend—and though it no longer works, he listens to the silence as if it still plays their favorite song.

Jayce:

1. **Blueprint Guilt**: Jayce has a hidden vault of failed inventions that never worked as intended. Each one represents a moment where he feels like he let Piltover down. Sometimes he dreams of these blueprints exploding, the fragments injuring everyone around him.

2. **Crumpled Speeches**: Jayce writes letters to Viktor, confessing his regrets and insecurities about how their partnership fractured. He never delivers them, leaving them crumpled up in his desk drawer, afraid that nothing he says will fix what’s broken.

3. **Forge Visits**: Late at night, Jayce visits old smithing forges in Piltover. The hammering of metal on anvils calms him, a reminder of simpler times when all he had to worry about was crafting weapons, not leading a nation.

Viktor:

1. **Silence of the Undercity**: Viktor dreams of the Undercity, but it’s always eerily quiet—no voices, no machinery, just him wandering through empty streets. He wakes up sweating, unsure whether he’s relieved or sad that it was only a dream.

2. **Hidden Garden**: Viktor secretly tends to a tiny plant in his lab, hidden behind stacks of books and equipment. It’s the only living thing he cares for outside of himself, and he fears that if it dies, it’s a sign that he’s lost touch with his humanity.

3. **Staring at the Stars**: When Viktor feels the weight of his mortality, he goes to the highest point in Piltover and stares at the stars. He wonders if he’ll ever leave a mark on the world big enough to be remembered—or if he’ll just fade away like the stars in the morning.

Sevika:

1. **Cracked Mirror**: Sevika has an old cracked mirror in her room, one she refuses to replace. She hates looking at herself, especially the scars and the mechanical arm, but she forces herself to stare into it every morning as a twisted form of penance.

2. **Family Photo**: She carries a faded photo of her family—parents and siblings she hasn’t seen in years—tucked in the lining of her jacket. It’s the only thing from her past she hasn’t burned, but she doesn’t let anyone see it.

3. **Card Games Alone**: Sevika sometimes plays cards by herself, recreating the games she used to play with her gangmates. She cheats against herself, muttering curses and laughing bitterly, pretending they’re still around to play with her.

[lostonmyroad]

Moments That I Want Tattooed On My Forehead From S-Classes That I Raised Chapters 50-70

As always, BEWARE OF SPOILERS!!! Future chapters may be referenced!!!

The insane amount of lore dropped in these chapters wow

Chapters 50-60

help its genuinely still so funny to see yoojin in the early chapters going: “all i have to do is complete this one (1) task and then i can live like a slacker” before he gives up (cries in cale henituse)

everyone referring to yoojin as “monster daddy” and asking him to raise their children is amazing. no notes 

ARRIVAL OF THE KING SUNG HYUNJAE!!! He's a bastard he's amazing he's always on my mind

"...no matter how amazing Sung Hyunjae might be, he wouldn't be able to notice it easily. He wouldn't press his nose against my body and smell me, like my idiot brother had, would he" um. ok??? yoojin's completely normal though process

sung hyunjae essentially telling yoojin “aren’t you tired of being nice? don’t you want to go apeshit” within 5 minutes of their first real conversation

i forgot shj gives him a pair of earrings!! (and a bone for Peace)

yoojin’s disguise to get to the f rank dungeon being a fucking sun protection hat…it’s giving marvel baseball cap and sunglasses…and he has this because he used to stage one man protests??? sir what were you protesting against

oh that’s right the dungeons will appear at a faster rate because “time was only reversed for yoojin” oops

Chirpie makes its debut!!

yoojin trying to hide where he got chirpie from “i found it in the hallway”. king if yoohyun wasn’t suspicious of you already that would do it

yoohyun yeeting Peace and mama yoojin scolding him

chef myungwoo :))

bleh bug dungeon. i’m with you yoojin that was disgusting

yoojin not wanting to use Last Repayment :((

Riette makes an entrance! do you think riette demonstrated girl power when she abused her brother until he became an s rank

yoojin thinking about how he had raised yoohyun and was so happy about sending him to college…saving money for his tuition…and just losing interest in riette :((

yoojin saves bak hayool!!

this is where we see peak yoojin mafia behavior. unhinged. but justified revenge?? this is why i don’t understand fan interpretations where he’s like a wallflower like this man has murdered multiple people quite violently 

chapter 60 is just so much. like. i cant even describe. yoojin you need so much therapy

the way he sees people’s last memories before they die ugh…

yoojin playing 3D chess while everyone else is playing checkers fr

him calling his friend who doesn’t remember him bc of the regression and telling them to live a happy life always gets me ufffff i wish we got to meet this character

Chapters 60-70

Yoojin and the Awakening center — a tragedy in the making. Pre-regression trauma galore

The Association rears its ugly head!!! Yoojin has an authority figure problem (but it’s completely justified)

love how chill Yoojin is about Chirpie. random F rank monster that’s cute as hell that’s eating Peace's weight in magic stones and was born from an error in the system??? ehh no big deal it’s my pet now and i’ll kill for it

love the absolutely random detail about seok hayan’s pineapple earrings. thank you geunseo you know what the people want

yoojin funding public research!! hero of the people and my heart

yerim refusing to praise yoohyun and myeongwoo to their faces hahahaha. all of them petty as hell

MYUNGWOO GETS HIS SS RANK SKILL BABYYYY

yoojin still trying to protect myungwoo i love them

yoojin: *is keeping secrets from yoohyun and putting himself in danger*

also yoojin: why is yoohyun being cold with me

everyone’s giving yoojin flowers today lmfao

sung hyunjae you’re everything to me. you’re so bizzare. the bouquet??? showing up in a 2-seater car?? bullying seok simyeong??

Shj reminding Yoojin to wear his seatbelt because he's an F rank HDJEKXIDKD

oh yoojin. “who’d want to place themselves through hardships on purpose” like SIR are u that un self aware

yerim listening to this bullshit, eyes falling out of her head: i’m literally going to crazy murder you with yoohyun

the dungeon ppl have the actual worst timing. yoohyun is going to McFreaking lose it

yoojin and yoohyun finally work things out we love to see it :))

chapter 65 starts the explanation of the 50 s ranks requirement!!! water droplet is going through it

so much is just casually dropped in this chapter like. yoohyun is a born s rank! the dungeon ppl are manually inputting things for yoojin! the world might end! anyways!

yoojin having such strong mom energy that the dungeon people forgot he was a dude

one of the moments ever when yoohyun and Peace burn down the dungeon in worry and yoojin’s just there like. ah. shit. my bad i fucked up there a little

grown up Peace my beloved

chapter 67 yoohyun my beloved. you are so crazy. “hold still while i chop off your arm and fake your dear so i can keep you safe” 

the han brothers finally having a real conversation. yoojin i love you but you really needed to do this sooner

PEACE STAYING SMALL JUST SO YOOJIN CAN PICK HIM UP UWAHHHH MY HEART

Newcomer joins the battle

Chirpie turnin on the TV by itself and yoojin praising it like every proud parent ever

more monsters!!!

unicorns (white + black bc yoojin is terrible at naming) + gryphon (named Blue)

yoojin’s training method of using himself as a human chew toy is traumatizing for everyone around him.

same hyuna i would also be taking 10939392 photos

Peace and Blue WWE match. flex on em Peace

nobody:

yoojin: wow myeongwoo is hot now

BLUE LEARNING HOW TO OPEN THE FRIDGE

i love the monster shenanigans

[stylespresleyhearted]

What are your HC for John Egan and Benny Cross AU? :)

about this clegan au post

okay so this is a curt lives (yayyy!!!) gale dies (it hurts to even type) storyline. i’m still debating his death but i do have two roads i wanna go down, i’ll probably go with whatever way ends up fitting john’s character trauma later. enjoy some first meeting hc!!! ty for asking love <33 🥹 lemme know if u want more/like how this sounds lol

• John stays in the army and continues flying. There are multiple times where they attempt to promote him to Colonel or General but he refuses, always opting to be a Major because 1) he was a Major with Gale and 2) he wants to stay avid on the field, he will never be comfortable sending young boys to fight and not be right there with them. If he’s a Colonel or General he’s got to stay back.

— John’s approach to war is Episode 5 coded during his conversation with Crank. He never heals from that completely.

•In 1965 John is recruiting doing military tours and training new flyboys. He’s leaving base one day and almost breaks his neck when he sees Gale with a beard, tattoos, and a patch riding by, yelling into the open air with glee. He’s curious of course, makes it his mission to find out who he is. Whoever this person is they have Gale’s face.

• Talks to Demarco who is from Chicago who tells him where some biker gang hangs. Tells Bucky to not get into any trouble “they’re real dangerous guys, bucky, don’t go startin’ nothing.”

•This is in the post but Zipco and Cockroach take to Bucky immediately. He wears the army uniform, but none of the arrogance and he can out drink almost any of the men there. Tell the Major to come around the bar any time he wants he ain’t no damn regular G.I.

•He stares at Benny constantly which irks him. There’s a look in his eye that Benny doesn’t appreciate, a gentleness that shouldn’t be directed at him because he isn’t gentle. His name isn’t Buck and he doesn’t want John saying his name in a tone like he’s meant to be revered. He isn’t anything, he just wants to ride his bike and stick with the gang. They make conversation once (the one also in the post) and the next time Benny sees him enter the bar while he plays pool he feels anger in the pit of his stomach, building until it has reached his throat and Benny does what he does — he hits him. Repeatedly.

•Bucky doesn’t hit back. He takes it and imagines it’s Gale’s touch. It takes Johnny, Zipco, and a few other guys to peel Benny off of him.

[illarian-rambling]

Thanks for the tag @mysticstarlightduck!

Character Profile Tag

Rules: Answer the questions for one of your characters

I feel like giving Djek some love <3

Full name: Djek Serun Kagura

Age: 19 in book 1, 23 in books 2 and 3

Gender: Cis man

Type of Being: Human, specifically of Amaranthi lineage

Appearance: Djek is a scrappy man standing at about 5'5". He has light brown skin, deep-set red eyes, and a black buzzcut about two weeks overgrown. He constantly squints because he needs glasses, lending to his shifty appearance, and he's missing a few teeth from a long ago brawl. In later books, his hands are covered in rippling black tattoos. He usually dresses in the fantasy version of laid-back chicano style, and can often be seen with lots of jewelry that may or may not belong to him and messy eyeliner.

Way of speaking: He grew up on the streets of a big city, and you can tell. There isn't a formal bone in his body. In my mind, he has a Chicago accent.

Physical characteristics: Elaborating on what I said in appearance, Djek’s most noticeable trait is his bright red eyes. This is the telling feature of the Amaranthi people, and his eyes are very vibrant even by that standard. Too bad they hardly work.

Occupation: Part-time thief, part-time locksmith. If he can break it, he can make it.

Family: Djek is estranged from his family, as his parents abandoned him to cut down on mouths to feed during a famine. His parents' names are Kali and Jedul. His older sisters are Kiva, Kana, and Avra. His older brother is Shon, and his younger brother is Vanik. He hasn't seen any of them since he was seven, though, so he's not sure which of them survived.

Best friend: His best friends and found family are Izjik Meautammera, Sepo Kaiacynthus, and Twenari Devaris. He considers them to be like sisters and brothers more so than any of his blood siblings.

Pets: Lord knows he's not responsible enough for that

Relationships: He tries, but he can never get past the talking stage, rip

Describe their room: For a large part of the story, he shares a room with Sepo. Djek’s side of the room is perpetually messy. Dirty clothes cover the floor, and the remnants of a half-dozen card castles litter every flat surface. His bed has approximately nine blankets and no fitted sheet or pillow. He likes to tinker on locks before bed, so there's a few screws floating around in there.

Items in their bag/purse: Lockpicks, snacks, spare change, a wallet that might belong to him, and ibuprofen

Hobbies: Playing (cheating at) cards, dancing, tinkering with locks, yapping

Favorite sport: He, like the rest of the quartet, loves to swim

Abilities/talents/powers: Djek is a sorcerer, albeit not a very powerful one. His best spell is his shadow summoning.

Fears: Abandonment is the big one. Djek has bounced from group to group all his life, always the weakest link. He does his best to make people laugh and always go along with what people say, as he believes any group will leave him to die if he's not useful or amusing enough.

Faults: Chronic people pleaser, consummate liar, terrible self esteem, always trying to be funny at bad times. He doesn't trust himself and thinks he's weak, so he usually just does what the strongest person in the room tells him to.

Good points: Unbreakably loyal, legitimately funny when he gets his timing right, has a heart of gold underneath his rough exterior, incredibly resourceful and creative. Despite how easily peer pressured he is, at a certain point, there are some things Djek refuses to budge on, like killing.

What they want more than anything else: To finally find a place where he belongs.

I'll tag @thecomfywriter @chaotictravelerrants @pluttskutt @tragedycoded @melpomene-grey and anyone else who wants to play :)

Full name: Age: Gender: Type of Being: Appearance: Way of speaking: Physical characteristics: Occupation: Family: Best friend: Pets: Relationships: Describe their room: Items in their bag/purse: Hobbies: Favourite sport: Abilities/talents/powers: Fears: Faults: Good points: What they want more than anything else:

[temptingfatetakingnames]

The Wings and the Roots Part 1

1992 Hawkins

The air was hot in the squad car and Steve just wanted the day to be over. He was idling back from the road on the edge of Hawkins in a place where young drivers and out-of-towners liked to test the speed limit. The windows were down but the breeze did nothing to alleviate the heat. He glanced at his watch and groaned. Time always seemed to move slower in the summer. He only had another half hour left of his patrol, but the minutes were dragging by, and he was sweating in the stifling heat. All of his thoughts were focused on the cold beer that was waiting for him in his fridge.

“That was Alive by Pearl Jam,” the radio DJ announced. “Next on the lineup is Blood Runs by Corroded Coff-”

Steve quickly changed the station as a car sped past him in a red blur. He threw on his lights and pulled out of his hiding spot in pursuit. The car noticed him quickly and signaled that it was going to pull over to the side of the road. Steve slowed down behind it and parked. It wasn’t a car he recognized so probably someone from out of town trying to drive through Hawkins as quickly as possible. Steve couldn’t blame them. Didn’t mean they were getting out of the ticket though.

He grabbed his notebook and pushed his sunglasses into his hair as he got out of his car. He sauntered up to the rolled down window of the vehicle he had pulled over and was greeted with the wildly grinning face of Eddie Munson. The grin quickly faded as recognition sparked in his eyes.

“Har - Harrington!” Eddie stuttered. Steve was briefly pleased by the shocked look on Eddie’s face, but following that pleasure was an emotion he did not know how to describe other than it felt like something was curdling in his stomach. Eddie looked good, his curly hair wild and framing his face. A hint of black eye-liner smudged around his dark eyes. His arm rested on the window of his car, showing off a beautiful sleeve of tattoos. The opposite of Steve in every noticeable way.

“Munson,” Steve acknowledged outwardly calm. Internally his brain was screaming at him that it was EddieEddieEddieEddie. “It’s been a long time. What brings you back to Hawkins?” The only way Steve was going to get through this interaction without having a nervous breakdown was to pretend that Eddie was an old acquaintance. An old friend from his past just passing through town.

“Yeah, it has,” Eddie replied, “I’m visiting my uncle for a couple weeks.”

“You were driving really fast there but I suppose I can let it go for the Rockstar that put Hawkins on the map.”

Eddie blinked sheepishly up at him. “Thanks man, but you don’t have to do that. I’ve never felt like a Rockstar when I’m in Hawkins.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but Steve needed to end this as quickly as possible.

Steve shrugged. “It was good to see you. Say hi to Wayne for me.” He turned and started walking back to his car. “And slow down!”

He watched as Eddie drove away and swore to himself that this time, he would be fine. He didn’t care about Eddie Munson. He hoped that if he kept telling himself that he didn’t care, one day it would be true.

---

Eddie’s heart was still beating quickly when he pulled into his uncle’s driveway. He sat for a moment trying to collect himself. Seeing Steve again truly rattled him. He was as beautiful as ever. And that uniform… it suited him. Eddie needed to calm down. He slapped his cheeks and grabbed his bag from the passenger seat. The house he had bought for Wayne was a small bungalow on the outskirts of Hawkins. He could have afforded to get him something nicer, but Wayne was stubborn and getting him to accept this house had taken a lot of convincing. Something grander would have been refused outright.

As he approached the door was flung open, and Wayne grabbed him in a tight embrace.

“M’boy,” Wayne mumbled into his shoulder.

Eddie gripped the man back just as tight. It had been too long since he had been back. Hawkins had forgotten that they had accused him of running a murder cult when he got famous, but Eddie would never forgive. He tried to visit as little as possible. But he wanted to spend time with Wayne now that his tour was over and the man refused to come to L.A.

“Heya pops,” Eddie smiled. “How have you been?” They held each other in the doorway for a long moment before Wayne pulled him inside.

“Good.” Wayne grabbed Eddie’s bag and led him further into the house. He dropped it onto the kitchen table and grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge. Popping the tops, he handed one to Eddie and took a long sip of his own. “Come sit and tell me how things are going in L.A.”

Eddie sat and told him about the sold-out tour he and the band had just finished. They had played in twenty cities across the States and had just signed a contract for another album that he would get started on as soon as he was back. The years had been good for Eddie; he was living his dream. Playing his music to the masses, hopefully giving the outcasts of the world something that made them feel not so alone. Someone to look up to that was like them. His hands were flying as he spoke, and he probably had a manic grin on his face, but Wayne just sat and listened, nodding along to everything Eddie said.

“I ran into Harrington on the way here. Well, he ran into me. Pulled me over just outside Hawkins, didn’t even see the cop car!” Eddie said. “He wanted me to say hi for him. Do you see him often? How long has he been a cop?” He tried to be nonchalant, but he usually avoided talking about Steve with his uncle.

“Steve comes over every now and then. He cooks, and we watch the game and have a few drinks. Been a cop for a few years now.” Eddie was absolutely gob smacked by this information. Why would Steve spend time with his uncle? What did they even talk about? Him? Probably not him. Maybe him? Definitely not him. Why hadn’t Wayne told him?

“Why!?” Eddie shrieked.

Wayne gave him a long dry look. “We spent weeks together at the hospital when you were in a coma. Boy never left your side. We got to talkin’ a little, he was scared shitless of me at first. But I could tell he cared about you. Gotta say, didn’t expect a Harrington could be such a good man. He keeps up with you, ya know?”

Eddie did not know. He did not know any of that. After how they had left things, he wouldn’t have expected Steve to stay in touch with Wayne or keep up with Eddie’s career. Knowing that Steve asked about him softened Eddie’s heart, but guilt quickly swamped the warm feeling. Wayne could see the conflicting emotions on Eddie’s face. He had never been able to hide how he felt.

“Why didn’t you tell me you saw him so often?” Eddie asked.

“Didn’t seem like ya wanted to hear about him,” his uncle replied. “You should talk to him.”

Eddie immediately began shaking his head. He had run six years ago, and even if some things were different now, Eddie was still – and always would be – a coward. He had his reasons for leaving Hawkins like he did, and Steve Goddamn Harrington was one of them. Being accused of running a satanic murder cult was another but who was counting? What the hell would he even say to Steve? That he was sorry? That he missed him? That he thought about him so often it made his heart ache? No. There was no talking to Steve.

“It’s been long enough. He asks about you every time I see him even though it always looks like it hurts him to do it. Eddie… You didn’t see him when you left. You should tell him what really happened.”

Eddie never wanted Steve to know what really happened the last night he was in Hawkins. He didn’t want any of them to know. It was bad enough that his uncle saw him in the aftermath. It still shamed him to think about it, and the last thing he wanted was more pity.

“He’s not going to want to talk to me, Wayne.”

“How do you know? It’s not too late to be friends, especially after what you went through together.”

Eddie couldn’t meet his uncle’s eyes. Friends. He didn’t think it would be possible. Pining after Steve Harrington has been one of the only constant things in Eddie’s life and it had always worked better from a distance. He had learned that lesson the hard way.

“I’ll think about it,” Eddie said.

---

Eddie Munson was everywhere. Steve ran into him at the grocery store, saw him cruising the streets in his fancy car, watched baristas flirt with him when trying to get a coffee. Steve was losing. His. Mind. Eddie had visited a few times since leaving, but by fate or design they had always managed to avoid each other. This felt like the universe purposefully messing with him, throwing the man in his path as often as possible. Steve always gave him a polite nod and then continued on his way as fast as possible. Eddie always had this earnest look on his face like he wanted to talk but Steve resolutely refused to give him a chance to.

Steve was sitting in his squad car outside the coffee shop, slowly taking sips and trying to wake up when Blood Runs started playing on the radio. It was one of Corroded Coffins’ most popular songs and played on most stations. Steve usually changed it when it came on but he felt like punishing himself a little today so he listened.

I broke my own heart Like branches off a tree Made wings out of the debris And flew so fast and far My blood has always wanted to run You were collateral damage Didn’t know how to make you mine Instead you stayed right there Looking so pretty with roots in your hair

That was enough for him…There was only so much of Eddie’s raspy voice caressing his ears that Steve could take. He turned off the radio and sat in the silent heat for a moment. Steve had always been somewhat vain and over-confident, even if he considered himself a better person now. But he wasn’t being boastful when he thought about Blood Runs being about him and Eddie. Most of Corroded Coffin’s songs were subtler, but some weren’t even trying to be about anything other than Steve. The kids brought it up often enough, always trying to coax the story of what happened out of him. He tried very hard not to think about it; The uncertainty of his feelings, the confused longing, the endless flirting. And then the kiss - Nope. Steve started his car and pulled away from the curb. Hopefully he could find some kind of public disturbance to take his mind of Eddie Munson

Unfortunately, Hawkins refused to cooperate. It was a peaceful and beautiful day. Which was usually a good thing, but today it just made Steve angry. Having Eddie in town changed something in the air, brought a tension that he wasn’t used to feeling anymore. Hawkins was safe, predictable… At least it had been for the last few years. Steve made sure of it. After hours of slowly driving through town with nothing happening to occupy his thoughts, Steve found himself unconsciously heading to Sattler Quarry.

It wasn’t a place he visited often anymore. When he was younger it was a good place to think, and he had a lot of thinking to do back then. Realizing that he wasn’t a good person in high school had been a tough pill to swallow. Between The Upside Down and his friendship with Dustin and Robin and Max, Steve had finally grown the fuck up. He liked to think that he had made up for ‘King Steve’ in some ways. He had helped to save the world after all. But another part of him felt like he still had something to make up for. That the weight of his past mistakes would hang over him forever.

He parked his car in the shade and started walking towards the stone outcrop that overlooked the water. Flies buzzed around his head and cicadas screamed in the trees and the sun played peek-a-boo through the canopy. Steve let his mind drift as he walked, tried not to think about Eddie. Couldn’t help but think about Eddie – just another person to regret. Another missed opportunity caused by Steve’s bullshit. He sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face and threw his hair.

By the time he emerged through the trees he had worked up quite a sweat. The sun shone on the water and a nice breeze lifted his hair and cooled his skin. It was perfect and beautiful, and it made Steve want to scream. So, he did. Loudly. His throat was hoarse by the time he was done. But he felt better. With that out of his system, he decided to head back to the office to catch up on some paperwork. He usually put it off as long as he could, but figured it was something he could get finished today. Something that would keep his mind busy. He looked at the water and breathed calmly for a few minutes before turning back. Eddie would be gone soon, and everything would go back to normal.

---

Steve Harrington was everywhere! Eddie watched cashiers flirt with him at the grocery store, saw him patrolling the streets in his squad car, ran into him sleepily grabbing coffee in the mornings. Eddie was losing his mind! Steve still had no business looking that good in a police uniform. Eddie hated the police! As Steve left the coffee shop with a brief nod to Eddie, he tried and failed not to stare at his ass. God, those pants hugged him in all the right places. Thank you, Hawkins P.D. Lyrics suddenly popped into Eddie’s mind.

It doesn’t always Have to be a fight But you’re just a Big Boy Swinging a bigger bat How dare you leave Looking like that?

Oh, that was good. With some tweaking, it could make a good chorus to a song. Eddie needed a napkin. Oh Stevie, my muse! Wouldn’t be the first time Eddie had written about Steve, wouldn’t be the last either. It wouldn’t be a very subtle song; Steve would know it was about him. A Big Boy swinging a bat was the most obvious reference to the man Eddie could make. Fuck it. Subtlety had never been his strength. 

“Eddie!” yelled the barista. He turned quickly, his cheeks feeling warm and red. “Here’s your coffee.”

She smiled and held out the cup. When he went to grab it, she held on a little longer than necessary, smiling at Eddie and blushing. She had been flirting with him since he got to town. Eddie had come out publicly when he first started to get noticed. He refused to hide who he was anymore and being a famous queer metal-head who was once accused of satanic murder just helped his growing fame and notoriety. Women still flirted with him, and he usually flirted harmlessly back but he didn’t want to give anyone in Hawkins ideas.

“Thanks! Could I get a napkin?” he asked the barista as he started patting the pockets on his vest. He usually kept a pen on him. You never knew when inspiration would strike. And inspiration struck often with Steve Harrington around.

She handed him a napkin and he grabbed it quickly and started scribbling on the counter. She tried to peak but even if she could read upside down there was no way she could decipher Eddie’s chicken scratch handwriting. When he was done, he shoved the napkin into his back pocket and ran out of the café with a “see ya,” thrown behind him.

He was meeting up with Dustin and didn’t want to be late. He was back from school for the summer and the timing worked out perfectly for a visit. They didn’t talk often but stayed in touch as often as their busy lives allowed. Eddie finished his coffee as he drove to the Henderson’s.

When he slipped out of the car the door was already open and the stout fuzzy haired young man flung himself down the stairs and grabbed Eddie in a crushing hug.

“Eddie!” Dustin beamed up at him and Eddie grinned back. God, he missed him.

“Henderson!”

They held on to each other tightly. Dustin was still shorter than Eddie so he had his face tucked into his shoulder. He didn’t speak, there would be time for that. He just wanted to enjoy the feeling of hugging Dustin; alive and happy and here. There was a unique bond that would always tie them together and he was forever grateful to have Dustin in his life.

Family had always been a difficult thing for Eddie. Being disowned by his parents early in his life had scarred him to the idea of unconditional love for a long time. He knew Wayne loved him but it had taken them a while to be comfortable with each other and openly showing affection was still pretty new. Dustin was a revelation of what family could be – easy affection, complete understanding, fierce protectiveness. Eddie loved him.

He didn’t want the hug to end, but they slowly pulled away from each other.

“Let’s go for a walk, my mom is driving me insane,” Dustin said as he started dragging Eddie down the street.

“How are things at school?” Eddie asked.

“Amazing! I really enjoy my classes and it’s a great feeling to be challenged. Still giving my teachers a hard time though. This one professor was giving a lecture on astrophysics and gave the wrong data for one of the calculations we were supposed to be doing. When I questioned him, he said he would have to look it up. Next class he started by saying I had been right!”

Eddie laughed and shook his head. “Don’t ever change, Henderson.” Dustin smiled.

“How about you? How was the tour?”

Eddie took a deep breath. “So good. Super exhausting and living on a bus with the guys was interesting but the music and the crowds - nothing like it, man! You feel like a God up there, with thousands of people screaming your own words back at you.”

“I’m still bummed I couldn’t make it to the Boston show. Next time I’ll be there, exams be damned!” 

The conversation continued as they walked. Dustin mentioned a new DnD campaign his school friends had started. Eddie missed the game, didn’t have time for the care and detail he put into his own campaigns and wasn’t interested in being a player at the moment. They talked about books and movies, catching up on the little details of each other’s lives that they had missed. 

“I was talking to Steve the other day and – oh, sorry.” Dustin cut himself off.

“It’s fine, I’ve actually been running into him a bunch.”

“Have you talked to him?”

Eddie sighed.

“Not really… We mostly just nod that we acknowledge each other’s existence. I’ve tried to start a conversation a couple of times, but he always runs out. He doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“Steve doesn’t hold grudges, Eddie. He’s still good friends with Nancy and Jonathan, right? I don’t know what happened because you won’t talk about it, but it can’t be that bad. And besides, he knows what it’s like to regret past mistakes,” Dustin said earnestly, “just talk to him.”

Eddie blew raspberries and then bit his lip.

“Alright, alright! I’ll talk to him tomorrow just to get you and Wayne off my back. And when he resoundingly refuses my offer of friendship I can say I told you so and we can go back to nodding politely at each other for the rest of our lives!”

“When will you learn that I’m always right?” Dustin grinned as Eddie wacked his arm.

--

After another long day of patrolling the quiet and uneventful streets of Hawkins, Steve was finally home for the night. He was about to crash on the couch when someone knocked on his door. Sighing, he went to answer it. He was shocked to find Eddie standing outside, arm raised as if to knock again. He looked as good as he had the day before. Curly hair framing his face, a faded band T-shirt and ripped black jeans on even in the heat. It hurt to look at him, standing in the sunshine as if years hadn’t passed and they weren’t practically strangers now. Steve plastered a smile onto his face, knowing it probably looked off but not knowing what else to do.

“Munson? What are you doing here?” Steve asked.

Eddie glanced around nervously, bouncing a little on his feet. “Hey Harrington. Can I come in?”

After a moment of hesitation Steve stepped aside and gestured for Eddie to enter. He led him into the kitchen and nodded for him to take a seat at the table. Eddie was too busy looking around the room to notice. Steve tried to see it through his eyes, it was nothing like the Harrington residence he grew up in. He refused to live in a museum; this was his home. The fridge was covered in photos and letters from his family. The walls full to bursting with framed pictures and smiling faces. Beside the fridge was a corkboard with newspaper clippings and articles cut out and pinned up. Eddie gravitated toward it.

“Accomplishments,” Steve said. “There’s an article about Nancy winning an award for her journalism. She won it the year after she graduated. A local newspaper wrote a story on Will’s art exhibit. You’re up there of course.” Steve reached up and moved a clipping out of the way showing a school paper with Henderson’s name in the corner and giant red B.

“This one’s my favourite I think,” Steve pointed to it with a smile. “This was Dustin’s first and only paper to ever receive anything other than an A at MIT. Whenever he’s over he puts someone else’s article on top of it.”

“Kid always needed something to check his ego!” Eddie laughed.

He continued to stare at the board, a look of almost wonder on his face that made Steve’s stomach flip. There was more, so much more. A Hawkins Post article about Hopper coming back from the dead. A newer one with Hopper shaking Steve’s hand. A university paper showcasing Lucas’s game winning shot. And Eddie and Corroded Coffin were everywhere. Steve almost felt embarrassed, but Eddie belonged up there with everyone else that he cared about; with everyone that survived and went on to live such big and beautiful lives.

Steve cleared his throat. “So, why are you here?” Steve asked just as the phone rang. Eddie shook his hands at Steve in a ‘go for it’ gesture.

Steve walked to the phone and answered, “Steve speaking.”

“Steve!” Max screamed into his ear.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Steve smiled. “You coming soon?”

“Yup! One more paper to finish and I’ll be back for the summer. Thought I could wrap it up quick but it’s more difficult than I thought it would be.”

“Take your time. Dustin’s the only one whose made it back so far. You’re good though? Getting enough sleep?” Steve could feel her rolling her eyes at him. They both still had nightmares, but Max would only call him when a particularly bad one hit.

“Yes, Mom! I can take care of myself, go babysit someone else!” Brat.

Steve laughed. “Love ya, kiddo.”

“Yeah, yeah, bye Steve!” Hanging up the phone, Steve turned back to Eddie.

“Max.” Steve explained.

“How is she?” He asked.

“She’s great.” Steve smiled. “She’s at school in Indianapolis. I’m glad she stayed close. She was going to come home this weekend but has a paper she needs to finish first.” He shrugged.

“Home? She lives with you?” Eddie asked.

Steve’s smile got bigger. “Yeah. She’s uh – well she’s my daughter, sort of? Adopted her a few months after Vecna. Her mom couldn’t do all the doctor visits and physiotherapy and the wheelchair really didn’t work in the trailer park. Gave me custody and then took off.”

Steve thought back to how Max was when she first got out of the hospital. Broken arms and broken legs, barely able to see. Her mom wholly unequipped to deal with the trauma and the healing that still had to take place. All Steve wanted to do was help. He started driving Max to her appointments, trying to coax her out of the quiet stupor she had fallen into. She was so strong. But she needed someone to be soft with, and Steve didn’t know why she chose him, but she did. She never let the others see how much she was hurting, but she showed him.

Maybe because they were so similar. They had parents that didn’t act like parents. They grew up too fast and had to learn to take care of themselves. It was difficult for Steve to let others take care of him, too. Max letting him in, being vulnerable with him helped him to be vulnerable back. It helped him to let Joyce and Hopper in. Made him realize that he didn’t always have to be useful to be wanted. To be loved.

When Susan had pulled Steve aside and told him that she was leaving, Steve did the only thing that made sense. He told Max that he could just be her legal guardian for the next few years until she was old enough to be on her own. But in a moment that would probably live in Steve’s mind as the best day of his life, Max had told him she wanted him to be her Dad. It was the one and only time she had called him that, but it didn’t matter because Steve knew how she felt. Brat still called him Mom in that annoyed but fond tone when he did anything to show how much he cared about her, but Steve would take what he could get.

Eddie was looking at him softly. “You seem really happy, Steve.”

Happy… Steve was happy. The happiest he had ever been. He had a beautiful family that loved him and a job that he actually gave a shit about it. But there was something missing. Something that had been missing for years despite his best efforts to find it again. The realization made him a little angry. Because the reason for this missing piece was standing in his kitchen looking at him with beautiful soft eyes like he cared.

“Why are you here, Eddie?”

Now that the moment had come Eddie looked nervous, his fingers tapping his sides and his feet bouncing with energy. He opened and closed his mouth a few times seemingly trying to find a place to start. He pulled his hair in front of his face.

“I was hoping we could talk?” Eddie coughed.

“Talk? Now you wanna talk?”

Eddie winced. “Har – Steve. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for how I left. Running has always been my go-to move. The one and only time I didn’t I got swarmed by Demobats and almost died!” Eddie said, trying for a bit of humour. Steve didn’t laugh, just looked at Eddie, waiting.

“86 was supposed to be my year. I was going to graduate and get the hell out of Hawkins and do something with my life. Then Chrissy died in my trailer, and I was thrust into the Upside Down and I learned that monsters are real. When I went to distract the Demobats away from Dustin, I - I didn’t really expect to survive it. But I did, and I didn’t know what to do with that. I didn’t graduate, couldn’t find a job and despite what Hopper did, Hawkins wouldn’t let me forget what they thought of me, and I could never forget what they thought of me either.”

Eddie started pacing back and forth across the kitchen, running his hands through his hair. “I couldn’t just go back to how things were. I didn’t know how. And with how we left things, I didn’t think you would care. I just thought it would be best for everyone if I started over somewhere else. Clean slate.” Eddie said.

“Jesus Eddie, it wasn’t just that you left. I do understand why Hawkins wasn’t going to work for you anymore. It’s how you left, without a word. Without talking to me," Steve said and took a breath. "Without letting me explain.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t think I could hurt you. After I kissed you and you-”

“Don’t. Please.” Steve cut him off, he couldn’t let Eddie say it.

“I really thought you liked me,” Eddie said with naked vulnerability on his face.

“I did,” Steve said without hesitation, “like you.”

At the time, he was still figuring things out and he had reacted badly when Eddie kissed him. He could admit now that what he had felt for Eddie then was so much more than just liking him. He had longed for him, wanted him, needed him. No one saw Steve the way Eddie had. It had been good and beautiful and fragile… And Steve ruined it like an ignorant child who didn’t know what he had been given. But then Eddie had gone and ruined it worse.

Eddie was looking at him in shock, eyes wide.

“You did? But…”

“I was scared, Eddie. I needed time. I went to the trailer park the next day and Wayne said you had left and weren’t coming back. That you didn’t want to see or hear from me. From any of us.”

Eddie winced. Opened his mouth to speak. Closed it. Shook his head. They had both made mistakes and he couldn’t deny that as hard as it was having Eddie around, Steve wanted to see him. He wanted them to be able to talk like they used to. He missed him.

“I’m sorry, too. I wasn’t ready and I – I didn’t know what to do… So I panicked and I hurt you. I’m so sorry, Eddie.”

Eddie was looking at him, eyes full of remorse or regret and Steve couldn’t take it anymore. He walked up to the other man, hesitated a little, and grabbed him in an embrace. Eddie stiffened briefly before collapsing into Steve’s arms.

“So, where does this leave us?” Steve asked into the mess of Eddie’s hair that was tickling his face.

“I’d like to be friends, if you think…” Eddie trailed off and pulled himself away from Steve so he could look at his face.

“Friends." Steve nodded. “Friends sounds good.”

Part 2

[flowercrowngods]

nice to meet you, where you been? (steddie tattoo shop au)

🌷 read part 1 here (or on ao3) | T – 2/3 – 12k 🌷

part 2: started with a spark, now we're on fire (| 4.5k)

Eddie spends the entire way home processing what the fuck just happened. Because there’s no way that what he thinks has happened is what actually, truly happened. He’s in such a tango of dazed and freaking out that he can’t even text Chrissy; every time he pulls out his phone to yell at her, the words kind of escape him. It’s frustrating. 

What’s even more frustrating is that he has Blank Space stuck in his head. Of all songs, Steve! Of all songs! 

Steve. Damn. That really happened, didn’t it? 

Steve Harrington with the perfect hair and the perfect smile and the perfect lighting in his stupid perfect tattoo parlour that might not be so horrible on second thought. 

Traitor! Eddie curses himself. It is horrible. Just like Steve’s taste in music. 

Nice to meet you, where’ve you been — “Fucking dammit!” 

A woman tuts when she passes him with a delighted looking child in tow, and while she looks royally pissed off, the kid looks up at Eddie with a hint of wonder and excitement. He grins at the kid and does a little wave, but before they can respond, their mother demands their attention again. 

Eddie continues on his way home with a grin on his face that Harrington has nothing to do with. Well, almost nothing, but that’s close enough for Eddie right now.

As if the universe is playing a cosmic joke on him, he opens the door to the apartment he shares with Chrissy only to be assaulted with more Taylor Swift. In fact, just when he got rid of Blank Space playing on loop inside his head, he’s hit with that stupidly upbeat song on full volume from Chrissy’s room. 

“Son of a…” he sighs, slamming the door shut to announce his presence. 

The only reaction he gets is Chrissy singing along even louder, and Eddie is in such a good mood that he laughs as he walks over to her room. 

“So it’s gonna be forever!” she sings — shouts, the menace —, lying on her bed, legs up in the air against the wall, head halfway off the mattress. A shit eating grin on her face because she knows Eddie hates this song, knows he hates everything indie and flowery and minimalist and touched with gentle golden light to match his personality— ah fuck. She totally planned this. All of this!

“I hate you!” Eddie exclaims over the music, but Chrissy doesn’t care, hardly even hears him with how loud she’s singing along — or trying, around her smile. “I hate you, Christine!” 

“And you love the game!” 

Her arms are flailing now, and she somehow makes even that look good. Eddie huffs and throws himself onto her bed, his legs against the wall right beside Chrissy’s, though he refuses to move his feet along to the cursed song. 

She takes his hand and keeps singing, the mattress bouncing underneath them, and Eddie soaks up the whole moment. Chrissy is not metal, far from it, but the chaos is unmatched and that Taylor of it all is so worth it. Just don’t tell Chrissy that. 

“So,” she says at last when the song is over and a new one starts, quieter this time, and Eddie doesn’t care enough to know what it is. He’s been around too much indie pop and normal pop music today, it’s enough to last a lifetime. Or at least until the end of the week. “How was your tattoo appointment?” 

“It wasn’t a tattoo appointment, I just wanted to go check out this place you refused to shut up about, Christus.” 

He lifts their joined hands into the air because he loves the feeling of blood rushing down towards his shoulder, his hands growing cold and then flushed with warmth once he lowers his hands again. Chrissy lets him. 

“I hate you, by the way.” 

“Why?” she says, and the grin turns into a look of careful worry. “Was he an ass about it?” 

“Huh? Oh! No, he was… God, he was perfect about it. And ridiculously golden. And pretty. And, Jesus, I hate him for it. Like, how dare he?” 

“How dare he be pretty and kind and accepting and really fucking talented?” 

“Yeah!” Eddie agrees. “How dare he! He’s got all that, and for what? “ He groans and dramatically throws their joined hands onto the bed again in a pathetic excuse of swooning. “Do you know what he said to me, Chris? It’s nice to meet you, Eddie. Like it’s nothing! Like it’s not my whole entire life that he just… God! And his smile? Like, there’s something real about it now. It was gorgeous in high school, I’ll give him that, but now it’s… It’s like. Like an ‘I’ve seen some shit in life but I choose to be kind about it’ kinda smile. Disgusting! Makes me wanna throw up.” 

Chrissy just chuckles and turns properly to face him. “What else?” 

Eddie sighs and turns towards her, too, their knees touching, shoving at each other playfully. “He remembered the name. Corroded Coffin. Said, and I quote, it’s a rad fucking name.” 

“So, obviously, you’re in love now.” 

“Obviously!” he exclaims, followed with another dramatic sigh, throwing his arm across his face to hide his misery from the world. “How dare he?” 

“I don’t know,” Chrissy says, playing with the fingers of the hand thrown across his face. 

“He called me a wild card,” Eddie continues, quieter now, a smile on his lips. “Remembered me from high school and all he had to say is, fucking wild card you were. Not the… The girl stuff. Or the name stuff. Just. Just a wild card. Chrissy. Like somehow, to Steeeve Harrington, it’s all just… Like it’s all just whatever. But in the good way. God, I’m not even making sense. I want to punch him in his stupid face.” 

“With your lips?” 

“And tongue!” 

Chrissy laughs gently and continues to play with Eddie’s hair while he hangs off his thoughts of Steve. It’s still so fucking wild, so fucking unbelievable. Everything about today just leaves Eddie with a feeling he’s not entirely familiar with. It tingles in his arms, in his chest, flutters there for a second before moving to his head, to his thoughts. 

And then he’s thinking about Steve. About taking his hand and making him smile again, about bullying him for his music taste before dancing with him to The 1975 or some shit. 

Steve is probably the kind of person who listens to Sweater Weather unironically. Ridiculous man. 

Eddie can’t wait to see him again.  

~*~

Tuesday can’t arrive quickly enough for Eddie. He’s been extra jittery all week, going on Chrissy’s last nerve and even all those extra ones she reserves only for him. She rolls her eyes with exasperated fondness and kisses his cheek before shoving him into the wall or smushing his face into her, his, their pillows. Eddie just laughs and grumbles and tackles her right back, pretending he stands a chance against his jocky best friend. 

She even lets him win sometimes. That’s how he knows that she knows that he’s got it bad. He makes a mental note to get her some flowers tomorrow, or stock up on her safe foods secretly for her to discover at some point when she won’t pester him about his little crush. 

And it’s not a crush. It’s just that no one will listen to reason — not even the butterflies that seem so insistent to stay inside his stomach and bug him, quite literally, all the way down the street to Steve’s shop. Only now does he read the sign above the door and frowns a little. 

Ink-redible Dingus

Eddie snorts, a bit bewildered, a lot amused, an even lotter really kind of endeared. Silly man. Really hot silly man. Absolutely kind, pretty awesome, totally sweet, kind of golden Really Hot Silly Man. 

Jesus, get a fucking grip, Munson. Incidentally, the grip comes the moment he opens the door and hears another indie pop or whatever-song assaulting his ears. Sounds a lot like The Neighbourhood, and he’s ready to hate crime Chrissy the second he’s out of here for making him even know that shit, let alone recognise it. He wouldn’t put it past her to send Steve her playlist actually, just to torment Eddie. Steve would, he thinks. Oh, he definitely would. 

He huffs, smiling before the door even falls shut behind him, and Steve whirls around from where he was pouring over his iPad. 

“Eddie!” 

Steve sounds surprised. Happy. Excited. But Eddie is a little bit stuck on the surprised part, on the way Steve gets up immediately, his eyes wide, his smile wider, and he briefly considers turning on his heel and leaving the country, because this can only end horribly. He would do unspeakable things if it makes Steve smile at him like this. 

But, apparently, all it takes is for him to actually show up. 

“Don’t tell me you forget about our little—“ Don’t say date! “—appointment, Harrington.” He tuts dramatically, ignoring the way his heart beats inside his throat or the way his own lips are tucking up into a smile before he can stop them. 

Steve comes to a stop in front of him, shoves his hands into his pockets and has the gall to give him a sheepish little look that does not at all quench Eddie’s desire to punch him in the dace with his lips. 

“I didn’t forget,” Steve starts, a bit hesitant in the way he doesn’t really meet Eddie’s eyes. “I was a little worried, actually. That I had somehow, like… Offended you? Said something wrong, I don’t know. I’m very good at that, you know, saying the wrong thing.” 

Eddie stares at him for a second, fully aware that he’s blinking a bit owlishly, but he shall not be blamed, because… Steve can’t be serious. He can’t be serious. Can he be serious? 

“What?” Steve asks after a second of Eddie’s staring, and he blinks out of it quickly, tries to go for nonchalant and runs his hand along the wooden counter instead of reaching for Steve. 

“I hope you’re kidding, Harrington, because it would be pretty idiotic if you weren’t.” He shrugs and then finally looks up, earnestly. “You didn’t say anything wrong, Stevie. In fact, you were kinda perfect, actually.” 

Two seconds is exactly how long it takes Eddie to realise just what exactly he just said, and then there he is, blushing profusely in the most polished tattoo parlour he’s ever set foot in. Twice. 

But Steve is grinning, the kind that makes his eyes crinkle and breathe deeply, like there’s a laugh ready to bubble out of him any second now. It’s almost worth the humiliation of telling him he’s perfect. 

“Glad to hear that, man,” is all he says, but Eddie knows he wants to say more. Wants to tease. It’s written in the dimples on his cheeks, in the line of his shoulders or the way he shoves his hands even deeper into his light blue jeans. Eddie almost wants him to tease. Wants to flirt. Wants to get the feeling that Steve reserves his grin for his eyes only, wants to experience the Harrington Charm just one more time. 

Wants to travel back in time to his teenage self explain to them that he’ll be fine, everything will be fine, and Steve Harrington will flirt with you in his stupid tattoo shop ten years down the line, wearing a silly pair of bright blue jeans and a yellow sweater vest over a white shirt in a way that shouldn’t look good, but he pulls it off somehow. Oh, and there will be a ridiculous amount of soft pop music. Because of course. 

“Anyway, I, uh, I’m glad you came.” Hang on for just one second, is Steve blushing? 

Oh shit, he is blushing. Eddie’s going to faint. Die. Be slain. Lain to rest. Because Steve Harrington is blushing at him. 

“Of course,” Eddie says lamely, and then there’s silence between them for a moment, a heaviness in the air between them that Eddie can’t quite make sense of. Not that he’s particularly trying to make sense of it, not with the way Steve is still blushing, looking anywhere but at him. 

It’s kind of cute. Makes Eddie aware of the picture they’re making: Himself in his black ripped jeans and Metallica shirt, a black denim jacket adorned with patches of really old bands, good old classic metal ones. Steve, on the other hand, the polar opposite of Eddie’s all-black look. He’s preppy, colourful, really fucking bright in a way Eddie can’t quite but his finger on, and his hair once again makes Eddie want to reach out and run his fingers through it. It’s almost golden in the way it catches the light, and Eddie both loves and hates that it wasn’t a lie his brain told him last week, Steve really is golden in this kind of light. 

Disgusting. 

He wants to hold him forever. 

“So, uh,” Steve catches himself at some point, fumbling a bit, and Eddie just watches him for a bit, inclining his head like that will reveal more of Steve to him, like it will make him look up again. 

It does. Eddie’s heart is doing several somersaults at the way Steve falters with a half-smile on his lips. 

“Yeah, uh, what kinda tattoo are we thinking? I don’t mind doing it right now if you have, like, an idea or something, or we could brainstorm and do a few designs? I don’t have another costumer coming up for today, so…” Steve trails off and shrugs, makes it looks so casual and nonchalant that Eddie can’t really believe he’s real. “I’ve got time, is what I’m saying.” 

“Uh,” Eddie says intelligently. They’re both really on their a-game today, huh? But the thing is, Eddie has given this a lot of thought. Just, well, not as many words. “I’m thinking weird. I’m ready to enter my Weird Era.” 

It’s a test, of sorts. Make Steve Harrington be weird, unhinged, see what’s under that golden pastel shimmer. See what hides behind those crinkling eyes. 

Those very same eyes that are now squinting at him. “Is that a Taylor reference? From the one and only Eddie Edward Edwin Munson?” 

“Hey, that’s a hate crime actually.” 

“What, fake-full naming you?” 

“Nah, man, saying I make Taylor references. I’m not a pastel preppy sunshine boy who probably listens to her way too much.” 

Steve shakes his head, hiding one of those smiles that makes his eyes crinkle. Eddie wants more of that. It’s a good look on him. 

Also, are they flirting? It feels a bit like they’re flirting, but maybe they’re both just weird and compatible in it. Either way, it’s a bit of a win. 

“Right, tattoos,” the pastel preppy sunshine boy says before Eddie’s thoughts can travel too far and wax poetic about that smile and sunshine and something something Stevie. “You want it weird?” 

“Let’s make it weird, pretty boy!” 

Steve just cackles before turning around to grab a black binder. Eddie watches with interest, because the last thing a pretty boy should be doing when a weirdo requests weirdness from him is to turn around and grab a binder labelled Upside Down. It’s full of— oh. 

Oh yes. This is the kind of weirdness that Eddie’s talking about! Funky lines all over the place in a way that would make Picasso green in the face with jealousy. Monsters and mushrooms with too many eyes, skulls and anatomically morphed hearts with leaves growing or weird slime flowing out of them. They’re uncanny. Tarot cards with a touch of horror to them. Disintegrating ands holding weirdly detailed, realistic cigarettes. 

Steve Harrington is a Weirdo! 

He is also, most definitely, queer. No straight guy looks like this and draws like that, Eddie decides. 

“Most people bring their own designs, obviously, and not everyone is on the… the supernatural kinda grind, but most of these are actually some wanna-do’s of mine. Kinda itching to eternalise those.” 

Eddie is quiet, staring at the designs, and maybe he’s taking too long without moving on to the next page, maybe he’s too quiet for too long, but Steve seems to take his silence for bewilderment. Confusion. Disgust, probably. Rejection, definitely. 

“We don’t have to do them, it’s, uh, I know they’re weird, it’s totally cool if it’s not your kind of—“

“I need all of these, actually,” Eddie interrupts Steve’s rambles. 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah,” Eddie snorts, going back a few pages to the design that caught his eye the most and instantly. “Imagine how I’m feeling here. Steve Harrington, preppy pastel guy, the most normie to ever norm, everyone’s high school sweetheart, is secretly a weirdo. It’s a lot to take in, man.”

Steve snickers and crosses his hands in front of his chest. “So, what, you get to be a weirdo but I can’t?” 

“Got it in one, pretty boy.” God, Eddie really should stop calling him that. But he can’t, not when there both being like this and it’s fine, because Steve might be weird but he’s not weirded out. And Eddie is a bit breathless with it. 

“That’s so homophobic,” Steve grumbles, and, okay, maybe Eddie’s entire world has just stopped. Because… No. No. No way. Steve being secretly weird and Munson-detected queer was one thing, but him admitting to it in Eddie’s face with that adorable little pout while they’re flirting? Boy, oh boy, that is a whole other thing. 

So much so that Eddie drops the binder. But sue him. Holding onto things is a bit overrated when Steve Harrington looks at you with that cheeky grin because he knows what kinda effect he has on you. Because you keep calling him pretty boy. Because he knows. 

Oh shit. 

“Uh.” 

“Yup,” Steve snickers again, crouching down to grab the binder, finding the page Eddie’s been fixated on. “Thought I’d level the playing field a bit, y’know.” 

“Sure,” Eddie says, a bit too loud, too cheerful, a bit too delighted at the expression of absolute glee and mirth and mischief on Steve’s face. Gods, he might be a bit in love. “You’re a weirdo.” 

“It’s about time you catch up, Eds. Can’t associate with the people that I do without being a bit weird.” 

Tell me about your people. Tell me everything. Your entire biography. Their entire biographies. Your thoughts. Your weird, weird design ideas.

They’re approaching dangerous territory of having Eddie put his chin on his hands, kicking his legs and asking Steve all those question with hearts for eyes. But they can’t. He can’t be falling deeper, not yet, not before he got a weird fucking tattoo from the prettiest boy he knows. Even if he has to do it to the tune of some whiny voice from the speakers announcing that ‘This is for Mathilda.’

“So, I’m thinking this one,” he says instead, pointing at the little creature that captivated him from the beginning. 

Steve’s eyes light up in an instant, like they’re wont to do. “Oh, excellent choice. It’s Robbie’s favourite, actually, and she made me promise to tell her the very second it gets claimed. It has a name, too, you know? You’ll never guess, though.” 

Eddie looks away from Steve and down at the… thing. It looks a bit familiar but he can’t quite recall where he’s seen that before. 

“It’s an ofan, or a galgal” Steve explains. “From the book of Ezekiel. An angel, kind of.  Most of those angels dubbed biblically accurate aren’t actually from the Christian bible, y’know? Robbie’s Jewish, so she sometimes makes me draw these things with my own twists. See, they don’t actually have that many eyes, nor are they melting or disintegrating,” Steve chuckles, a bit sheepish, and Eddie’s breath gets stuck in his throat. “If you’re bothered by religious imagery on your body, though, we can find something else for you, it’s no biggie.”

Eddie gives him a bit of A Look before pulling down his shirt to reveal the upside down pentagram adorned with a pretty awesome looking devil with his tongue out. He just barely resist the urge to mirror the devil’s face at Steve like he does every time he reveals this tat to an unsuspecting soul. 

But Steve just grins and nods. 

“And anyway, religion is what you make of it, isn’t it? And if getting that little ofan  buddy tattooed so I an lecture people about how saying ‘biblically accurate angel’ is wrong, then it’s a win for everyone, don’t you think?” 

They talk about the design for a moment, Steve asking if Eddie wants any changes to it, and the only one he has is for there to be more eyes. Steve grins as he edits it on his iPad, showing Eddie as he works. But Eddie is mostly staring at the way Steve’s hair keeps falling into his eyes. It’s adorable. He hates it. 

“Where’d you want it?” 

“I was thinking here,” Eddie says and points at the biceps of his right arm, right where his sleeve ends so the ofan will always peek out. “Do I, uh, do I need to take off my shirt?” 

“Nah, we’ll just tape the sleeve up, no problem.” 

Yeah, he kind of needs to marry this guy and his dignity-saving tape. 

And then that’s how Eddie finds himself sitting rather comfortably in an adjacent room. It’s just as clean, the decor just as minimalistic but horrendously tasteful that Eddie sort of wants to lie down on the floor for a moment. It looks very inviting, dark wood and all. 

Before he can think about how to explain the want for Floor Time because he’s a bit nervous, he’s having his arm shaved while Steve hums along to yet another Taylor song. Eddie wants to throw up. 

“You okay there, Eds?” Steve asks like he knows exactly what his problem is. “You look a little green.” 

“I hate you,” he grumbles, no heat behind it. And Steve, the little shit, miraculously makes the music just a touch louder. “I’m getting a discount for this, I hope you know.” 

Steve laughs and Eddie is pretty sure the next one is actually a gentle touch, even through the gloves. It make his heart flutter. Good choice for his first tattoo, the little buddy has eight mismatched, slowly melting wings, it can do the fluttering when this is over. 

The worst thing is that they keep flirting while Steve inks him, he stops every now and then not only to wipe away ink and blood but also to give Eddie a dead-pan kinda look that Eddie wants to kiss away. Or shove away and tell Steve to focus and not mess up his little angel friend. Steve just huffs. 

At some point, Steve gives him a little squishy ball. A fidget toy, because maybe his nerves were showing more than he noticed, and he already has the apology on the tip of his tongue when Steve says, “Helps me sometimes, I figured you could need it.” 

“Thanks,” Eddie breathes, squishing and relishing at the feel of it. It does kind of help. “Does it have a name you won’t tell me, too?” 

“Nope, only Upside Down tattoos get names.” 

“So you’re saying those other designs have names, too?” 

A shrug, a wipe, a smile. “Maybe.” 

“Weirdo.” 

“Pot, kettle.” 

“Steve,” Eddie gasps, dramatically. “Are you asking me out on a date, Mr Kettle?” 

 “Mr Kettle?” An adorable frown appears between those brows and Eddie really is in the kicking feet, giggling territory now. Shit.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head and keep tattooing me, if you will.” 

“Diva.” 

“Oh, look who’s talking,” Eddie exclaims, utterly delighted, and they both have to take a break then, the flirting a bit too much. Steve laughs, relaxes his hands, and almost shoves him out of the chair, earning another laugh from Eddie. 

“Just so you know, Munson, you’re paying extra! You don’t just cost me time, material and creativity, but also all my fucking nerves. See if I’ll ask you out on that date if you keep that up.” 

Eddie’s breath hitches, but he’s never been one to know when to leave well enough alone — and apparently, neither is Steve. “Is that a challenge, Harrington?” 

A moment passes between them, intense stares getting deeper by the second before Steve sighs and rolls his eyes. “Jesus Christ, I think it is.” 

Eddie cackles but vows to behave at least so much so that Steve can continue. 

It doesn’t take too long all things considered, 90 minutes and Eddie has a new buddy on his arm. He can’t stop staring at it, really kind of enamoured with Steve’s technique. There are so many details that can only be spotted on second glance, and he can’t wait to see what it looks like when it’s all healed up. But Steve is good. Really, really good. 

And Eddie is crushing. Really, really hard. 

He wants to stay, he really does, especially since Steve’s closing up in half an hour anyway, and there’s nowhere for him to go, nothing for him to do, because Chrissy won’t be home until ten tonight. But the thing is, if he stays any longer, he’ll actually do something stupid like kissing Steve on his stupid lips or asking him on a date. 

He talks big game, but Eddie is a little chicken when it comes to doing the real things. 

So he lets Steve clean him up, apply the fancy transparent film to protect the tattoo and support the healing process. The amounts of times Eddie’s been left with plastic wrap or tinfoil, this feels like genuine luxury. Everything abut Steve’s shop kinda does, but not in the tacky manner. More in the I care about your comfort and have the means to provide it kinda way. Eddie’s learning to appreciate that, actually. 

Steve doesn’t overcharge him in the end. He pays a fair price for his ofan with the secret name and is ready to turn on his heel and run out of here, the bubble of the tattoo room has burst, they’re back to being Steve and Eddie, not pot and kettle. 

But just as he reaches the door, Steve calls for him. 

“Hey, Eds? Do you wanna go out some time?” 

He blinks, swallows. Thinks he’s dreaming. “Yes,” he says. “Yeah, sure.” 

And if they stare at each other for a second too long, smiling, caught in each other’s eyes, well. Then that’s that. 

---

tagging:  @inmoonywetrust @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @vampireinthesun @ajamlessbaby @momotonescreaming @zerokrox-blog @hotluncheddie @saganarojanaolt

🌷 read part 3 here

[another-miracle]

the thing about hands (4/?)

When Hisame tells Obi of the plan, the first thing Obi wants to do is to laugh.

Because, conniving snake that he is, this is the best he could come up with? 

Obi slides his gaze over to the wretched slime of a man, hoping to project just how incredulous his suggestion is. In turn, Hisame raises an infuriating eyebrow and smirks. Obi’s blood boils. 

A scan across the ballroom; Little Ryuu, who, inexperienced as he is, has his hands clutching his little glass of punch for dear life; Shuu, smiling with daggers behind his glazed eyes; Miss Kiki, with one brow raised, mirroring her- ugh, really?- fiancé. The murmurs around them only increase in volume as Miss and Lord Eisetsu make their way to the gardens.

Obi realizes he does not have the luxury of time.

Plastering on a smile, he excuses himself with a short bow to Hisame. Passing on his wine glass to Little Ryuu, he ruffles his hair and shoots him what Obi hopes is a reassuring look. 

Obi then makes his way toward what can only be his doom.

Approaching the pair, he begins to unbuckle the official cloak draped over his uniform blacks. From where he stands, Miss is stiff and evidently uncomfortable. Obi puts that at the forefront of his mind, instead of paying heed to his heart threatening to claw its way out of his chest.

“Young Miss,” he calls, schooling his face into something neutral- he hopes-  and tries his best to appear nonchalant as he passes on the cloak over Miss’ shoulders. Obi thanks whatever deity there is out there that he has his gloves on. There is no need for him to be familiar in any way, with the softness of Miss’ skin around her collarbones.

Obi’s eyes shift towards Miss, silently confirming the plan. Obi’s right hand then tightens, ever so slightly, around her upper arm. He steps into her space, directs his face towards hers, and begins the count.

1.

Miss’ frame is slight, or perhaps Obi is just larger now. He remembers her weight slumped on him when she was drunk, what seems like a millenia ago. How different she was- they both were- back then.

2.

Her breath passes over his neck, warm and short. As if realizing this, Miss clamps her mouth shut, a blush forming on her cheeks. Obi’s fingers twitch around the cloth, entrapping them further. 

3. 

Miss gazes up at him, her eyes shifting left and right. Obi wants to tell her to look at his nose, or the space between his eyebrows - an amateur move, really. But he finds the way the firelight reflects off her eyes, revealing a different shade of green with every movement, entrancing. He catalogues each one in his mind.

4. 

At this distance, Obi can see the light freckles splashed across Miss’ nose, a testament to the much-needed sunlight she’s been exposed to ever since leaving Lilias. His chest hurts from the need to kiss every single one. 

5.

Miss breathes, and her chest expands, contracts, brushes against the hand Obi perches politely over his cloak. Obi tries to avoid combusting on the spot.

6.

A breeze unlatches a lock of hair from behind Miss’ ear. Again, Obi locks his fingers further into the cloak, willing ice into his veins to keep up the facade of a man colder than he currently is. Instead, he burns.

7.

 Her tongue darts out, wetting her lips. Obi’s gaze flickers down, snaps back up, refusing to pay any heed to that any more than necessary.

8. 

This is torture of the highest order, he thinks. 

9.

-this is something I want every day of my life.

10.

Obi closes his eyes, tattooing Miss’ face behind his eyelids. He smiles, releases his hand from its supposed death grip around Miss’ arm. The traitor hovers around Miss’ back, though, as Miss thanks him and he bids his regards to Lord Eisetsu. 

As the pair walk away, Obi holds his arms behind his back, fingers digging into his sleeves. He releases a breath, and wills the pounding his ears to stop. 

A hand clamps down on his shoulder, startling him. Obi turns. Miss Kiki’s face is unreadable as she returns her hand to her side. Little Ryuu comes up next to him and passes back his wine glass. Obi accepts it, takes a large swig from it, and exhales once more.

His fingers continue to twitch around the stem of the cup, Miss’ warmth a phantom ghost searing the skin beneath his gloves.

[saikokirakira]

Worshipped, not Bound (Jake Lockley x Bakunawa!Reader pt.2)

a/n: guess who's back on their Moon boi shenanigans? Me. I literally speed-wrote three parts in my attempts to procrastinate writing my Miguel O'Hara spicy WIP, so our favourite limo driver now has 4 parts in his introduction. also I quit my job. :))

Prev: IV. Jake pt.1 | Next: IV. Jake pt.3 | AU Masterlist

warnings: jake “the simp king” lockley origin story; angst as a sub-genre?; one-way intense pining; divorce babe; show's interpretation of DID; Tommy Wiseau joke; language / one (1) f-bomb; non-canon Philippine mythology

You returned to London with no problems.

Well, maybe two.

Marc and Steven.

Maybe Layla, but she didn’t return to London with Marc after the entire fiasco in Egypt.

It was cruel to make Steven and Marc think that you remained dead after releasing Bakunawa.

But it would be even crueler to bring them back into your world after they’ve been set free by Khonshu.

Still thinking about that twerp?

You rolled your eyes as the snake tattoo slithered around your hand while you raised your paintbrush to the easel.

It’s surprising how they didn’t even try to stop by in your workplace.

While Sidapa still had his glum demeanor, he definitely started picking up Bakunawa’s habit on being a pain in your ass.

We heard that.

“You were meant to.”

“What was that, dear?” your mentor called out from his desk.

“Nothing.”

“You should go get some rest. It’s quite late.”

You didn’t argue and began packing up.

Luckily you lived close to your work place. Just a half-hour walk.

But suddenly�� you felt the scales under your skin out of instinct.

You looked up to the tops of one of London’s old buildings.

Nothing. Just the glow of the full moon.

A deep sigh left you at the sentimental sight.

For the rest of your walk, you refused to look at the sky.

 ...

Jake didn’t know why Khonshu wanted him to watch over you.

There were more better ways of him spending time while he was in control of his body.

Like finding where Harrow is for starters.

It wouldn’t be that hard to find the cultist harboring an equally murderous god in him if it was that easy to find you.

Jake tugged his cap lower to avoid the cameras as he snuck in the apartment building entrance before the door locked.

13th floor, Jake noted as he watched the lift stopped. He waited a beat before calling down the lift back down to follow you.

As the lift doors open…

“Oh, hi, Marc.”

Jake froze at the sight of you still in the lift, now smiling at him like catching his hand in the cookie jar.

Now, he was sitting in your living room with a good cup of joe with you in the loveseat across from him.

Where the hell was Khonshu?!

“How long have you been following me?”

“Two days.”

Damn it, why was he being honest?

“It’s good to see you.”

Jake swallowed heavily and kept his head down, hiding his eyes under his cap.

Probably not that honest.

“Did Steven tell you where to find me? Or was it Layla?”

Jake winced again.

While it was Marc who handed the divorce papers before all this happened, but now…

Layla did. All signed and delivered.

She wanted to stay in areas closer to Egypt, and Marc desperately wanted the freedom he’d been asking for since the beginning of being Khonshu’s slave.

It was a quick and easy process, and Marc barely put up a fight when the papers arrived.

It would’ve probably been different if Steven was around.

But Steven…

Steven hasn’t fronted since Cairo… wouldn’t even talk to Marc.

During the aftermath of the battle and Ammit was defeated, Steven just… faded away.

He was still in there but in a deep sleep.

If he only knew that Khonshu still had a hold of their body, Steven would know you were still alive.

But Jake wanted to keep you as his alone for a little while longer.

…

You watched Marc’s silent demeanor very carefully.

You expected him to be angry… or to at least be sarcastic with you.

Actually, you expected Steven to be the one to find you first.

You weren’t exactly hiding in the first place.

Something wasn’t quite right.

“Marc, why did you come looking for me?”

Finally… Khonshu appeared.

I need you to find Arthur Harrow for us.

Without hesitation, your scaled, armored claw had the stranger in a chokehold.

“Who the fuck are you?”

[iviarellereads]

The Shadow Rising, Chapter 49 - Cold Rocks Hold

(THIS PROJECT IS SPOILER FREE! No spoilers past the chapter you click on. Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Wheel of Time, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(Aiel icon) In which the author makes another very interesting, pointed choice.

PERSPECTIVE: Rand asks Avi to ride behind him on the horse, so he doesn't make some fool mistake because he can't hear her while she's walking next to him in all the noise. She agrees reluctantly.

Cold Rocks Hold is a canyon hidden in the land. It's named for a stretch of rocks on the far end from the entrance, where the sun never reaches, so the rocks are always cool. Rhuarc asks permission of Lian to enter the hold, and she grants it warmly. Heirn, the sept chief of the Jindo, asks leave to come beneath the roof, and is welcomed.

Couladin asks leave to enter the hold, and Lian says nothing. Rand asks why, and Avi says he is wrong to ask as if he's a clan chief, but if she refuses him, it will mean trouble with the Shaido. At last, Lian says Couladin has leave to step beneath her roof, and the crowd gasps. Avi explains she's welcomed him as one, alone, like a beggar. The gravest insult to him and none at all to the Shaido. Then she shoos Rand off the horse to go and ask as well, as she taught him. 

Rand bows and asks the way Heirn had, though Avi had told him to ask as a clan chief. Lian appreciates his humility, saying it's often lacking in men,(3) and says for the Car'a'carn there will always be water and shade at Cold Rocks. There's an ululating cry from the crowd, and Couladin glares daggers at him.

Rhuarc puts an arm over each of Lian and Amys and introduces Rand to the wife he hasn't met formally. Rand hadn't quite believed that Rhuarc was married to both. Amys starts telling Avi off for not teaching him everything, but she says there were more important things, and he doesn't listen. Rand says any mistakes are his own, she tried very hard and did teach him a lot, and asks if she can stay on as his teacher. Amys agrees, and glares down Avi's protest.

Lian brings them to her personal home, beautifully furnished with pieces from all over Rand’s known world and with some unfamiliar designs. Rand and Mat give her gifts as is the custom for Aiel. Moiraine tries as well, but Lian refuses, saying the presence of Aes Sedai is gift enough, the hope that their failure was not beyond forgiving. Rand realizes the taboo about talking about Rhuidean must even apply between husbands and wives and between sister-wives.

They share a meal all together,(4) though Avi looks ready to throw her food at Rand the whole time. He whispers that he doesn't know what he's done to her, but if she doesn't want to be his teacher, he can ask them to find someone else. Avi says he hasn't done anything and he never will, then continues instructing him on how to comport himself.

They discuss when to leave for Alcair Dal, and what to expect. Rhuarc says there's no way to imitate the Dragons of Rhuidean, at least, and he knows a couple of clans who will support Rand. Sevanna, the wife of the now-dead clan chief of the Shaido, is wily and will be displeased when another clan chief is chosen and she no longer has a whole hold.

Rhuarc asks if Rand still insists on wearing wetlander clothes, and he does: he doesn't want to pretend to be something he's not. If his tattoos don't mark him, nothing will.

Moiraine asks where Rand means to lead the Aiel to war, apparently referencing some part of the prophecies, and Rand excuses himself to go for a walk.

=====

(1) So we know something's up with Keille, and she may or may not be some part of a Lanfear plot, and she's making an awful lot of allusions, so many I just didn't bother writing them down. But, why the gleeman? Who could he be, why was he halfway to interrogating Mat about Rhuidean (and yet strangely passed over the mention of Avendesora), and why is he bickering with Keille? (2) So, any thoughts now on why Avi is protesting too much, since she's obviously the third woman in the polygamy setup, the one Min's never met before? Avi had glimpses of her potential futures in Rhuidean. She knows the wetlanders don't share their spouses. If she thinks Rand really belongs to Elayne, then there's no hope for a relationship with Aviendha. (3) Once again, the Pattern guiding Rand's actions subtly to curry favour and put him where he needs to be. Ta'veren shape the world around them, but they are equally shaped by the needs of the world around them. (4) I can't identify all the bits, but it sounds a lot like chili, cornbread, a corn (zemai -> maize) and tomato (t'mat) salad, something like prickly pears. Very interesting assortment, that, something to subtly put you in mind of a certain region of the world without saying so, as with so much of RJ's cultural references. And since this is the last note I felt a need to add: there's a lot of nuance in these chapters that I'm kind of skimming over out of lowkey fatigue and highkey wanting to get on with the plot already. They're worth reading, especially for the details of Aiel culture that get dropped, since they're clearly a big part of the story going forward.

[kitsumidori]

BL3 Remix/Siren Song Lore Post

I couldn't think of a better way to title this but basically this is the rewrite I've been working on for quite awhile and I think it's good enough to post

The majority of the story is somewhat still intact with a few key differences. (More under the cut)

Pre-BL3 

Angel ended up surviving the Control Core assault but was left in critical condition, Lilith helped with her recovery to the point that she became Angel's new mom.

The Calypso twins are not sirens, instead they are Eternals and decided to impersonate as siren's to trick the masses into joining their cult, going so far as covering their rashes with makeup and making fake siren tattoos.

Ava is instead the phaseleach siren and actually came to Pandora because of a strange voice telling her to.

(This would take place when she was 10, so 3 years before BL3's story took off.)

Maya ended up staying in Pandora instead of going back to Athenas since after giving some thought, Athenas maybe her birth home, but all she remembers is being sheltered for most of her life and being used as a threat.

Like in canon, Maya takes Ava in, but more as a daughter rather than just an apprentice.

Tannis is still a siren like in canon, however since Angel is still alive with her powers still intact, Tannis has a different ability rather than phaseshift.

(That being called Phasesight)

Borderlands 3

Pandora 1

The Calypso's did to ambush Lilith, however Tyreen leached her a lot longer than canon, to the point where Lilith was left in a coma 

Fiona is here. While rebuilding the raider, Vaughn recommended a few people he knew with one of them being Fiona and let's just say that she and Lilith became more than just allies.

Fiona was at first staying in Pandora, but after Lilith was attacked she didn't want to leave her side and force herself into the ship while also in complete hysteric 

Prometheus 

Sasha's here, Malawan believed that she'd disappeared but in reality she was in hiding sabotaging Malawan’s plans.

Athenas

Mostly the same in canon instead with Ava tagging along with the Vault Hunter's since Maya did promise her that she can do a mission as long as she keeps her tattoos hidden from the monks and she'd stick with the Vault Hunter's.

Maya refuses to even step foot on Athenas, she only left the ship when she found out how to open the Anchorhold.

Shortly before, she found out that she was never abandoned by her parents, but was kidnapped by Sophis.

Prometheus 2

The storyline is the same as canon up until the vault of the Rampager.

Troy attempted to leach Maya's powers, but failed miserably and was stop by one of the Vault Hunter's

Maya survived with her powers intact and only suffered a broken wrist.

Troy…wellllll….he ended up getting shot in the head by Moze, killing him instantly (at first...)

This was also when the raiders found out that the Calypso were Eternals.

Before all that, Maya was (attempting) to scold at Ava for putting herself in danger, but after Troy's attempt to kill Maya failed, his subsequent death and the twin's true status revealed, Ava bolted back to the ship and locked herself in her cabin.

Before she had tried to stop Ava, Maya noticed something that the kid dropped. It was a brand new Maliwan corrosive SMG with a note from Ava explaining that she was doing a little snooping and found both the blueprints and developers notes on said gun with the majority of the notes involving Maya's cloud kill ability.

What broke Maya’s heart the most was what's on the keychain ring, it was a tag that said To: Mom, Love ya🩵 From: Ava

This was the first time Ava called her mom…….and she felt like she'd ruined it……

After that, the rest of the BL2 vault hunters join Sanctuary lll and let's just say…..they were pissed.

There basically family at that point and if you go after family, your making it personal

While everyone is arguing on what to do if they came across Tyreen again, Krieg kept silent, brainstorming with himself on what to do with that rat boy's sister if he sees her again.

Due to what happened before, Maya was out of commission (both mentally and emotionally) for awhile

Eden-6

By the time of the Eden-6 arc, Tyreen used her powers to revive Troy (basically the unused Evil Troy design)

Aurelia is still working with the raiders and is undercover, joining the C.O.V to get more info.

Troy still has a weird thing for her but unlike canon……she's not interested in him and think he's a creep (that and she straight up told him that she's a lesbian)

Pandora 2

Prior to Tannis’s capture by the C.O.V, she and Fiona have started to become closer, Tannis also admits that while she's happy for Lilith and Fiona, she can't help but feel a little jealous.

Maya and Ava were able to reconcile, Maya even gave Ava her old Hellfire SMG, to which she was stoked about.

The boss battle with Troy ends a little differently, instead of dying he tries to leach one of the VH's but was instead leached by Ava, leaving him on the brink of death.

Before she fucked of to somewhere else, Tyreen leached what's left of Troy, so some part of him is still with her.

Nekrotefayo 

The raiders still meet Typhon, but instead of how it played out in canon, everyone stops seeing him in a good light not only after learning that he's the father of the Calypso's, but that he's the reason on why the twins act like that and how casually he talks about his shitty parenting.

Maya and Krieg hated him instantly, not only for the fact that the only thing that Typhon values about his late wife involved sex, but also talked about it in front of a 13 year old.

Tannis still admired Typhon at first, but she started to see the cracks and is now both embarrassed and disgusted at all the praise she gave him.

Lilith had since awoken from her coma and wanted to join the Vault Hunter's trip to Nekrotefayo, much to the displease of the other raiders.

And let's just say that it's taking every amount of her strength to not straight up kill Typhon.

The raiders then realized that Typhon was a huge liar and that he was never a vault hunter.

The vault on Nekrotefayo was already opened by the time he and his wife Leda arrived, the shit he said on his audio logs either never happened or were grossly exaggerated, but most damningly he stole Tannis’s research notes from her early days on Pandora and claimed that he open the vault of the Destroyer.

While Typhon was restraining Tyreen, something in Lilith snapped and……she ended up murdering Typhon…….

Pandora 3

From then on the storyline is the same as canon, up until the final cutscene where Lilith sacrifices herself after getting her powers back.

Instead of dying or going MIA, she survived thanks to the Watcher, but was gravely injured.

Once she has recovered, she announces that she's retiring and is making Maya the new leader of the Crimson Raiders.

Tyreen miraculously survived the battle. Everyone believes she's dead and she'd like to keep it that way.

[wrenhawthxrne]

your not my homeland anymore, so what am i defending? ⬻◦·◦·◦·◦·◦➴➶◦·◦·◦·◦·◦➴➶◦·◦·◦·◦·◦➴➶◦·◦·◦·◦·◦⤖

( andrew garfield / 32 / he/him) wait, is that WREN HAWTHORNE at/in the WOODSIDE GRAVEYARD again? i heard through a grapevine, that the hunter lays in favor of HAWTHORNE (by name only) and has been in town for ALL HIS LIFE (on and off). He is currently work as GROUNDSKEEPER for WOODSIDE GRAVEYARD. Some say he can be SECRATIVE and IMPULSIVE, but i thought he is actually EMPATHETIC and COURAGEOUS.

⬻◦·◦·◦·◦·◦➴➶◦·◦·◦·◦·◦➴➶◦·◦·◦·◦·◦➴➶◦·◦·◦·◦·◦⤖

BIOGRAPHY:

although wren had, had a good life with the hawthornes, it was a life full of pressure. he was supposed to act a certain way, be a certain way. he was supposed to become the man of the house - eventually. and the hawthorne house was one of strength, of esteem, of protection. his family were hunters and they would hunt anything supernatural. they had a reputation to uphold. and for a long time, wren had tried his best to uphold that reputation.

there had always been a niggling feeling in the back of wrens head, though. that what they did was not right. a voice telling him that these people had done nothing wrong and they didn't deserve the torture that the family put them through. and when he came across a young witch - who wren felt inexplicably drawn too - he knew that enough was enough. he bribed the guards who watched her to let him give her food, water, to look after her a little. until he decided that enough was enough. he helped her escape. he knew, though, that he needed to come clean to his family about what had happened.

the fall out after that was something which wren had predicted but what he had hoped wouldn't happen. he was kicked out. his entire family turned their back on him. and he couldn't blame them. he understood the betrayal. he had just hoped that they would stop to hear him out before they tossed him out of the home.

wren left town after that for a little while. he couldn't bare to be so close to home but not being able to speak to any of his siblings. he found the witch that he freed and the two of them travelled for a little while together. she was his solace. she was a distraction from everything that he had left behind. but soon enough, he felt another pull. a pull to go home. he wanted to check on his siblings, to be where he had been raised. but she didn't. she refused to go back there and, really, he couldn't blame her. the pull was too much for him though so the pair separated and wren went home alone.

he found himself a little flat in westray, a job at the local grave yard and settled into the day to day pretty quickly. he has yet to bump into his sister - but he did bump into his brother at the local supermarket one night. there was so much that wren wanted to say to his brother but he couldn't find the words. and then rowen was gone. he is determined to make things right with his siblings - if they would only give him a chance.

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BASIC INFO.

Full Name: Wren Marshall Hawthorne

Nickname / Aliases: N/A

Age: 32

Birth Date: 03 September, 1992

Place of Birth: Westray, Washinton, US

Gender: Male (he/him)

Species: Hunter

Orientation: Bisexual

Occupation: Grounds keeper at Woodside Graveyard

Current Residence: Westray, WA

Spoken Language(s): English, French, Spanish, Italian

RELATIONS.

Parents: Cordelia Hawthorne (ask River) & Marshall Hawthorne

Siblings: Rowan, Esther & 1 other Hawthorne

Significant Other(s): None (single)

Children: None

PHYSICAL.

Eye Color: Blue

Hair Color: Blonde

Height: 5'10"

Piercings + Tattoos: None

Scars + Birthmarks: Long scar, thin scar on right arm (from training mission gone wrong), burns across his right shoulder (from hunting a fire fae)

[anonymousbeefriendfanfics]

Hi thereeee!! Saw your OCs and theyre amazinggg. One caught my eye though, enby ace bookworm Elliott, and I wanted to join in om the get to know them prompt. I have 6 questions I chose, but I hope it's alright cause I'm only asking for Elliott! >.< These are the questions:

Appearance

13. What is something they would refuse to wear?

19. What tattoo would they get?

Wheather and nature

9. Are they good with animals?

Community and relationships

7. Who are they most honest with?

18. What is their fav form of affection?

Hobbies and activities

12. What kind of music do they enjoy?

Aaaaah, I'm so happy you've taken an interest in my boy!! I'd be more than happy to answer all the questions <3 I got a little carried away with the animal question, hehe

OC Asks - Elliott #1

What is something they would refuse to wear?

Anything that makes them uncomfortable. Itchy materials? No thanks. Tight clothes? Pass. He dresses for comfort. Though if they were to cosplay, those rules become more flexible, but the end goal is still to be able to exist comfortably in whatever clothing he's wearing. They can't handle anything too constricting or uncomfortable.

What tattoo would they get?

Elliott would absolutely get some book-themed tattoos! Whether it would be a quote from a favorite book or simply an outline of a book, they'd be happy. I could also see him getting something LGBTQ themed, and he's definitely got the asexual flag on him somewhere.

Are they good with animals?

He's very good with animals! They're almost magnetically drawn to Elliott, and they definitely have at least one feline companion. A tuxedo cat named Scout lives with him, and she is often lovingly referred to as the queen of the library, complete with a throne-shaped cat bed built by some of his regular patrons. She was named Scout both due to the curiosity inherent in her, as well as her first 'present' to Elliott - a bird she'd caught, but hadn't killed. Being a bookworm, they thought of the classic book To Kill A Mockingbird, and the name stuck. She wears a rainbow-striped collar with her name printed on the side and a little bell dangling from it so she doesn't startle readers... or attack more birds.

Scout loves hanging out in the library and snuggling on the laps of visitors as they read. She's an extremely gentle cat, but she's got a mischievous streak - she'll steal pencils and hide them or drop them in the laps of others, headbutt people's legs with a toy in her mouth if she hasn't been given enough attention, and occasionally lurks in or on bookshelves and playfully sneak-attacks people. Somehow, she's never once damaged a book. She's even started picking up the smaller children's books when they're abandoned by kids, dropping them in a small basket left at the end of the shelves.

In addition to Scout, Elliott has a garden for people to read and relax in, and he's designated a corner for the stray kitties, with cozy little cat houses stacked together for them to shelter in, food and water, and some toys. He's thoughtfully surrounded the corner with a fence to keep inquisitive children out, but there's a cat-sized opening next to the gate, allowing the felines to explore the rest of the garden and visit the people within. He's successfully socialized, caught, and rehomed many strays this way.

Who are they most honest with?

Probably their partner! Once they get comfortable enough with each other, Elliott wants the type of relationship where he can tell them anything. Other than that, he has a pretty good relationship with his parents and friends. The soul who's seen him at his most vulnerable, however, would have to be their beloved cat, Scout.

What is their fav form of affection?

Elliott is the type who truly believes that you can tell a lot about a person from what they read, so they often show affection through books. He'll ask about your favorite books, read them if he hasn't already, and discuss them with you. He also enjoys recommending books to their loved ones, and will often buy several copies of a book he enjoys so he can gift it to them.

As far as more standard forms of affection, they respond well to words of affirmation and quality time. He's more than happy to just spend time together while reading or working on something independently, and hearing that people genuinely love and appreciate them always makes him melt.

What kind of music do they enjoy?

I could see their music taste being pretty varied! I think soft, relaxing music is a big favorite - they've definitely got a lengthy playlist of these songs that play quietly in the library, providing just enough background noise without being annoying. I could also see them getting into indie music, especially the lgbtq artists.

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