#i set all my hope on die linke

[ilredeiladri]

Das ist herzzerreißend und viel zu real. Aber auch sehr süß und hoffnungsvoll. Danke ❤️

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Schloss Einstein (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Colin Thewes/Noah Temel Characters: Colin Thewes, Noah Temel Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Viele ernste Gedanken, Mein Weg irgendwie die Wahlen zu verarbeiten, Fluff, POV Colin Thewes Series: Part 6 of Kleine und größere Momente-Universum Summary:

„Ich hab Angst.“

[kateis-cakeis]

Thinking about the structure of the Old Religion.

From what we know there's the Nine which refers to the High Priestesses of the Triple Goddess - powerful sorcerers who obtained immortality (unless killed by some form of magic), and performed important rituals of the Old Religion.

It is unknown if there was a High Priest equivalent, but Gaius in S1Ep13 does tell Merlin that "the High Priests have the power to mirror life and death". This suggests that perhaps there were High Priests of the Triple Goddess, and that they also had a Nine.

There's the Bendrui, women who failed to become part of the Nine. Just like those who eventually became High Priestesses of the Triple Goddess, they were chosen at birth for the priesthood - taken from their families and raised as initiates of the Old Religion. Despite their failure, Bendrui are practiced in potent magic, and appear to have above average gifts.

There's the Bloodguard, warrior priests who swore to protect the High Priestesses. They, like the High Priestesses, were the only people to ever set eyes upon the staff carved from the Rowan tree that grows at the very heart of the Isle of the Blessed.

It could be suggested that like the Bendrui, the Bloodguard could have been failed High Priests, but there is no evidence (other than the existence of the Bendrui, and the mention of High Priests) to truly suggest this.

It is also unknown if the Bloodguard served the Triple Goddess. It is possible that the priests served various different gods of the Old Religion, but due to their relation to the Nine specifically, it is likely these warrior priests served the Triple Goddess.

There's the Catha, which contains priests. (Alator is referred to being "of the Catha, warrior and priest", he also says "I'm a Catha priest").

It is unknown if they served the Triple Goddess, or a different god of the Old Religion (and we know they are priests of the Old Religion because Morgana says, "He's a Catha...priest of the Old Religion.").

They have their own language, however, suggesting that they are a unique culture, and perhaps even an ethnic group. (This is further supported by Alator saying Catha are trained from birth to master all physical pain, it is also said that they guard their ancient knowledge - which leans towards them being a people rather than just initiates of the Old Religion)

There's the Disir, the highest court of the Old Religion, made up of three women chosen at birth to be trained as seers and soothsayers. They are the mouthpiece of the Triple Goddess, and interpret her word. As Gaius says, "When they sat in judgement, their word was final". They pass on the runemark, which is both judgement and fate - it contains a person's guilt, as well as the path the gods have chosen for them.

There's the Druids, a peaceful people who worship the Old Religion and often possess magic. It's a part of their beliefs to help people in need of care, and therefore, those who weren't born a Druid can find a home amongst them (Morgana is one such example).

Moreover, the Druids look for children with the gift of telepathy to serve as apprentices (perhaps to keep them safe? perhaps to encourage their magic in childhood?). The Druids also have a tattoo of a triskelion somewhere on their body, perhaps as a part of a ritual (to indicate someone has become a Druid?).

While the Druids have an intimate knowledge of prophecy and destiny, especially regarding Emrys and the Once and Future King, they do not appear to be priests or priestesses in any form. Just like the Catha, they have their own language (called the Druid tongue and Druidic Runes by Gaius), therefore, it is possible that they too are a unique culture and/or an ethnic group.

There's the Isle of the Blessed, a sacred location of the Old Religion, said to be the centre of it, and the focus of its power - it is also where the power of the ancients can still be felt after the Great Purge. Artifacts such as the Rowan staff, the Cup of Life, and the Horn of Cathbhadh were kept there under the care of the High Priestesses. Furthermore, Morgana's healing bracelet was forged on Isle - suggesting that its power allowed for the creation of powerful artifacts (this is further supported by the Rowan staff which was carved from the tree that grows there).

In a deleted scene for S4Ep1, Morgause says when she was first brought to the Isle, the hallways were teeming with women - High Priestesses. Although it is said often within the fandom, canon never establishes if the initiates were trained on the Isle. This deleted scene, however, heavily suggests it.

There's the Caerlanrigh, a sacred spring within the Grove of Brineved. There, the Disir reside within a cave, where the spring feeds into an ancient pool - in which the Disir divine from. The old ways are at their strongest there, and it's at the very centre of their powers (whether Gaius meant the old ways or the Disir here is unclear).

There's the Cauldron of Arianrhod, a sacred site of the Old Religion. The lake contains the power of the White Goddess, who can be summoned to heal those affected by the Teine Diaga ritual. However, if such a person is tricked into entering the cauldron, their soul would be lost forever.

There's the Crystal Cave, said to be the birthplace of magic. It is filled to the brim with scrying crystals that show the past, present, and future. Taliesin used the cave as the source of his prophecies for the kings of old. And as much as the crystals can be controlled, they can force visions upon powerful sorcerers too.

The cave can also hold spirits within it, seen with both Balinor and Taliesin.

While this may have been the case for Merlin alone, the cave can restore a person's magic.

There are celebrations important to the Old Religion too, such as:

Samhain, a time of year where the people feel closest to the spirits of their ancestors, in which they celebrate their passing.

During Samhain it was traditional for the High Priestesses to gather on the Isle of the Blessed and perform a blood sacrifice to release the Dorocha. This was done on the stroke of midnight, when the veil between the worlds is at its thinnest.

Since the Dorocha do not roam free in the world throughout the series, it is suggested that a second blood sacrifice was done by the High Priestesses - perhaps before the night was through - to close the veil once more.

In Camelot, a feast is held as part of the celebrations. (This suggests that while the Old Religion and its practices were abandoned during and after the Purge, the heart of the religion and its holidays were never replaced).

Beltane, a time of year where the High Priestesses would gather at the Great Stones of Nemeton and summon the spirits of their ancestors with the Horn of Cathbhadh. It opens the door to the Spirit World and allows the person who blew the horn to see and speak with their ancestor of choice.

In Camelot a feast is held as part of the celebrations (which much like Samhain seems indicate that the Old Religion has been around for so long that it cannot be removed from society entirely - that the people clung onto some traditions, including the royal family).

There's the Gods of the Old Religion, the Triple Goddess, the White Goddess, and Nemaine. It could be implied that the White Goddess, and the Earth Mother Nemaine are part of the Triple Goddess, but it is just as likely for them to be separate gods.

If so, the Triple Goddess is heavily associated with the Nine, destiny and fate, and the immortality of certain sorcerers. Perhaps she is also associated with the balance of the world, due to the power over life and death being tied to the High Priestesses and supposed High Priests.

The White Goddess, however, appears to be associated with one's soul and healing. It was only her power that could heal and retain Gwen's soul after Teine Diaga ritual.

The Earth Mother Nemaine is related to Gean Canach, as it is said her tears forged the creature. The book Gaius reads from has more information, and from what can be deciphered, it says that Nemaine first wept at the slaughter of war, resulting in the Gean Canach crawling out of the Earth's belly (there is more written on the page, but it is impossible to tell what it says). This suggests that Nemaine lives within the Earth's core, and that she is indeed associated with nature and living beings as her name implies.

Furthermore, since she wept at the slaughter of war, she is perhaps the god of life itself, but not of the entire cycle. And due to the Gean Canach's abilities, to devour and drain a sorcerer of their magic, it is likely that this war's slaughter was brought about by magic.

It is possible that The Earth Mother Nemaine could be related to the Pool of Nemhain. Despite having different spellings in the show (the subtitles), they have extremely similar pronunciations (even if it is a bit different). Perhaps they are unrelated, but if they are one and the same, it could be suggested that the Earth Mother is connected to death as well as life, due to the pool being the last of the Five Gateways to the Spirit World. (This contradicts what is analysed in the above paragraph, but this post is meant to speculate multiple possibilities.)

Honourable mentions:

It could be suggested that the Quest Ritual was once part of the Old Religion. It includes the heir to the throne of Camelot transcending their body in order to receive a vision of a quest. This quest is meant to prove their worth to the people, and their worthiness of the throne. The heir prepares themself by cleansing their body and dressing in white robes. They spend an entire night kneeling on the floor, barefoot, with their eyes closed.

Due to how Arthur reacts in the morning when Uther pulls him out of it, and how sacred the entire process appears to be, it is as if the heir is actually gifted with a vision of a quest. This is supported by his reaction, as he looks dazed when relays what he has seen. Therefore, it seems as if the ritual includes some form of magic due to the preparation, and if so, then it's likely it was a practice of the Old Religion (specifically for the heirs of Camelot? Due to Camelot's association with the very heart of magic?)

It has been around for hundreds of years, so it is not outside the realm of possibility that the Quest Ritual is so old that the general consensus has forgotten its ties to the Old Religion, or much like Samhain and Beltane, it is perhaps so baked into society that it couldn't be abandoned.

--

In S1Ep13, Merlin says that the "Old Religion died out centuries ago". Even in Series 1 this is far from true, but later seasons make this remark seem entirely ignorant. If anything, this sentiment comes from a post-Purge society, where the structures of the Old Religion no longer exist. Perhaps it is even propaganda that Uther pushed forward as people became more fearful over the years, turning away from the old ways despite once practicing such beliefs (and for the people of Camelot, still practicing some of those beliefs).

It is possible this was a retcon but if so then it's directly retconned in S1Ep13 when it's revealed that Nimueh is a High Priestess.

Anyhow, in response to Merlin's ignorance, Kilgharrah says, "The Old Religion is the magic of the Earth itself. It is the essence which binds all things together. It will last long beyond the time of men".

This shows that the Old Religion doesn't just refer to the religion and the gods, but rather it is the very magic that makes up the fabric of the world, and as Balinor says in S2Ep13 it's either a part of you or it isn't. This suggests that it is indeed not just a religion, but the very world, the Earth, magic.

He also goes on to say that Merlin must "find those who still serve it", which shows that Uther very much didn't succeed in eradicating the structure of the Old Religion entirely, at least at that point in the show. And perhaps that anyone could serve it, even after the very structure collapsed.

All this is to say that the Old Religion is extremely pagan. The structure itself is vague perhaps because Old Religion is personal, it is vague. The differences between the High Priestesses, the Catha, and the Druids make this clear. Following the Old Religion's beliefs, traditions, and holidays is personal and spiritual because it varies, because there is no wrong way. Because there are no set rules or a real structure at all. The High Priestesses had power, yes, but this seems to come directly from the Triple Goddess herself, rather than a societal standing.

Nimueh was at court, and she was Uther's friend, but she was also very quickly thrown from the court after Ygraine died. And yes, the High Priestesses went to war with the Ancient Kings, but that appears to be a difference in factions, rather than let's say the Christian church and its power over the centuries.

Therefore, I propose that the Old Religion as a religion was loose in its structure, that it never died out like Merlin said (which does seem to be a post-Purge sentiment), but instead simply changed and evolved, and continued to exist even after the Purge, with its holidays in Camelot, and with the Druids and their practices/beliefs.

-----

Overall, the information we have on the structure of the Old Religion is vague and patchy. This was perhaps intentional so the writers could work around existing canon to introduce new concepts without being constricted by their past worldbuilding. But that's getting into the Intentional Fallacy, so I'll leave that there.

It appears that the High Priestesses had the most power in society, due to their past wars with the Ancient Kings, and their sheer power and knowledge. Not to mention their artifacts and control over creatures like the Fomorroh.

But there are different beliefs and structures to the Old Religion, like with the Catha and the Druids, suggesting that there are multiple ways to worship and follow the Old Religion.

The many sacred sites show that there are different powers and sources to the Old Religion that have different purposes. Like how the path to the Cauldron of Arianrhod was lined with banners for pilgrims, not to necessarily summon the White Goddess, but to visit the site. Or how the Isle of the Blessed is a powerful religious site, while the Crystal Cave is a fairly legendary and unknown place that few ever get to see.

In conclusion, the Old Religion is vast and has many facets to it. There is some structure, but it doesn't seem entirely necessary in order to follow the Old Religion. And in reality, it is inherent to the Earth, it is magic itself.

[todayisafridaynight]

Especially because in the end... Arakawa loses his son in small ways that just Accumulate... but Jo's the one who even gets to outlive his son... AUGH. THROWING MYSELF INTO A WOODCHIPPER

Also while going through old messages, I saw I actually had a dream back in 2021 that Jo came back in LaD8. I mean sure he had "longer hair" and "a new outfit NOBODY liked except me" and was Unserious like RGGJo whereas in the actual teaser he sounds more depressed than ever but I'm still taking credit alright... the vision came to me...

And in a Hell Will Freeze Over Before This Happens I Just Like To Think About It way. I want him in my goddamn party and I have for all of Y7 so it's not related to the new game. I don't care. I want to find out what his favorite flowers are I want to take him to Every Movie and get his commentary on all of it I want to take him out to eat and watch his little itadakimasu animation play out I want to have the most light-hearted and inconsequential conversations and I want him to chime in I want to exhaust every option on his Drink Link I want to unlock his sickass tag-team moves I want to wear True Hero and fight by his side I want to shower him with so much love and affection he won't know what hit him (<- channeling Arakawa tbh)

its just insane because from a metaphorical sense arakawa 'outlives' masato in that he becomes aoki and like. That's One Thing, but then Of Course. There's Jo. //stuffing my mouth with wet cement// like OHHHH the pain never stops it never ends,,

mate i think your brain was just tryna manifest RGGJo to make a come back through y7 ☠️☠️ CREDIT WHERE CREDITS DUE THO BUT DAMN would have been. THE MOST interesting change to his character though.... on the real.... because yeah he just sounds so tired from the trailer so far （；´д｀）would be hilarious if instead of entering a Super Depression arc bro's just. Yeah Alright Fuck It. What Can We Do Now Amirite. walk right out the cell with the white suit and snake-patterned lapels and all ☠️☠️

OK BUT MOST VALID RANT EVER. MOST VALID WANT EVER. would really just have the vibe of dragging your jaded uncle around the city i would died to have that,,, 😭😭

[steddieas-shegoes]

i'm glad i get forever to see where you end

check all tags on and read if you prefer on ao3

rated e, minors dni

happy birthday to my wife in all but law, @messessentialist. this whole idea came out of nowhere and then just kept growing and growing, much like my love for you. anytime you're ready to live our rv life dreams, i'm ready.

i'm not gonna post any links here, but just know i had 8 tabs open of different fish and birds that can be seen in and around indiana lakes. i didn't have a particular lake in mind, but there are plenty to choose from so if it matters to you, i mostly looked at lakes in the northeast and northwest area of indiana.

title is lyrics from forever by noah kahan, which is a song you should absolutely listen to if you haven't before.

this work is for sadie. if she is the only one who reads this, then that's all that matters to me.

//////////////////////////////////////////

🎣🎣🎣🎣🎣

He stares down at the paper in his hands. He thought he’d feel relief, maybe a tiny bit of happiness that he’d never admit to. He even considered that he might feel a small speck of sadness the day his brother died.

But all Wayne Munson feels right now is disbelief and anger, and he doesn’t know where to hide it before Eddie gets home.

“God damn idiot. Couldn’t even have the decency to die of old age. Had to go and get killed behind bars,” Wayne mutters under his breath as he folds the paper and slips it back into the envelope, hoping that keeping it out of sight might help him come to terms with the emotions flooding his chest. “Bullshit.”

Wayne is tired. He feels exhaustion in his bones, even in his fresh retirement.

For some, retirement is a time to reflect on the life you’ve lived and experience the things you couldn’t while you worked and raised a family. For others, retirement never happens at all.

For Wayne, retirement is a reminder that he almost lost his nephew, his son, and the government had to make sure he wouldn’t say a damn thing about how.

He knows he shouldn’t complain, but damn he sure would like to.

And now he has to figure out a way to tell Eddie that his father got killed in prison. The letter doesn’t say much, just that it was violent and the person responsible for his death is facing further consequences. As if Wayne cares about that. As if it helps explain this situation to a boy who already lost enough.

He sighs as he grabs a beer from the fridge and glances at the clock. Eddie should be home soon. He can’t hold onto this for too long; The news will get out soon enough and he’ll hear it from somewhere else, somewhere who won’t take the time to see what Eddie needs.

He takes a sip of the beer, then another, hoping the next taste of the bitter hops will help him decipher what he needs to say to Eddie.

It’s almost a blessing that Eddie doesn’t arrive home for another hour, giving Wayne time to finish his beer and get started on dinner.

Wayne is already prepared to ask Steve to head out tonight instead of linger, using the excuse of making sure Eddie doesn’t need anything before he goes. Usually Wayne finds it endearing, and hopes Eddie can see what’s so obvious there, but not tonight.

But Steve doesn’t walk in with Eddie.

Eddie’s humming something when he walks in, setting his cane against the table before sitting down in a chair and looking at Wayne with a smile.

“Hey, Wayne. How’s your day been?”

Wayne knows he’s about to ruin Eddie’s day at the very least and he’s not sure if he wants that task. He silently curses Al Munson again, wishing for someone to show up and say it was a mistake just so he doesn’t have to do this.

“Oh, boring. Ya know I hate retirement,” Wayne says as he brushes off the stress, tries to figure out a way to lead in to the news naturally. “Too much time on my hands.”

“You love fishing, though. Thought that’s where you went all morning.”

Wayne nodded. “You’re right about that. Guess I just like keeping my mind busy.”

He’s met with silence, which leads him to looking over to the table, where Eddie is staring at the envelope the letter came in.

Why did he leave it out in the open like that? It’s clearly marked from the prison.

“What’s this?” Eddie asks, always curious to the point of danger. “Dad get out?”

This was one of the worst things Wayne ever had to do and that’s saying something. Vietnam wasn’t for the weak, losing the love of his life nearly killed him, and seeing Eddie in a hospital bed after just barely escaping death is something he’d feel deep in his chest for years. But this was up there.

“No, son,” Wayne sighed, turning away from the pot on the stove. Beef stew and bread with butter was one of Eddie’s favorites, but it took a lot of work. That didn’t matter as much as making sure Eddie had support. “They sent a letter to let me know your dad passed away.”

Eddie didn’t look away from the letter. He was playing with the rings on his fingers, replaced by Steve the moment he realized they were missing in the hospital.

“Did they say how?” Eddie finally asked, still not looking up at Wayne.

“They just said another inmate was responsible. I don’t know any details. I’m sorry, Ed. Really sorry.”

And he is. Despite the fact that Al was a terrible father and made Eddie’s life harder than it should have ever been, he knows Eddie must have a lot of complicated emotions.

“Welp!” Eddie claps his hands on his thighs before finally looking back up at Wayne. “Guess that’s that.”

“It…is?” Wayne is trying to watch for any sign of discomfort or sadness, maybe anger. He sees none.

“Yeah. Not like I’ve really had him around to feel much of a loss.” Eddie smiles. It’s not fake, at least not according to Wayne’s judgment. “You’ve been my dad more than he ever was.”

Wayne feels warmth spreading in his chest at the thought of Eddie seeing him as his parent. It makes sense, but he’s never outright said something. Sure, he gave him Father’s Day cards, often handmade. And yeah, he braved a fishing trip every year for Wayne’s birthday because he knew it meant a lot to him. There was that one time he’d called him Dad when he was on morphine in the hospital.

Hearing it changes something in Wayne.

“You really feel that way, kid?” Wayne asks, sitting down at the table across from Eddie.

“Yeah. I kinda thought you knew that already.”

“Guess it’s nice to hear anyway.”

They don’t say anything else. They don’t need to.

A few minutes goes by before Wayne stands up and walks over to the stew, giving it a stir and taking a spoonful out to test the carrots and beef.

“Is that beef stew?” Eddie asks as the scent hits him.

“Sure is.”

“You were worried about how this was gonna go, huh?” Eddie teases, smirk evident in his voice.

“A little. Can’t blame me, can ya?” Wayne decides it’s done and turns off the stove. He’s grabbing two bowls from the cabinet when the front door opens.

“You forgot the meds!” Steve yells as he runs into their kitchen with a bottle of prescription pills in his hand. He freezes when he sees Wayne dishing out stew. “Sorry. Uh. Am I interrupting?”

Wayne laughs around a sigh, reaching up to grab a third bowl.

“No, have a seat, son. Just gettin’ ready to eat.”

Eddie stands and limps his way to Steve, taking the pill bottle to pocket it before he leans further in his space.

“I’m an orphan!”

Steve’s jaw drops and Wayne does all he can not to laugh. It’s not funny, and he knows that Eddie’s probably not processing the news properly yet, but he’d rather laugh than cry.

“Sorry, what?”

“My dad’s dead. The biological one in prison. Rest in peace to the man who gave me, like, two useful skills and musical talent.” Eddie is still leaning into Steve’s space and Wayne’s watching, waiting.

“I’m sorry, Eddie, that sucks.”

“Nah, it sucks that he was such a shitty dad I barely even feel sad that he’s dead.” Ah, there it is. That’s why he’s doing better than Wayne expected. “I’ve got Wayne.”

“Damn right,” Wayne adds as he pulls spoons out of the drawer. “Let’s eat.”

Steve seems lost for a moment as he looks between Wayne and Eddie, unsure what else to say in this admittedly strange situation.

He finally grabs two bowls off the counter and sets them in his and Eddie’s spots at the table.

“Let’s eat.”

- - -

Two days pass before it really hits Eddie.

Wayne’s been waiting.

Nothing major happens. Eddie doesn’t break down in tears or lash out in anger. He doesn’t even mention saying goodbye in some way.

“We should go on a trip.” He says to Wayne while they’re eating breakfast.

“What kinda trip?” Wayne asks without looking up from his newspaper.

“Camping. Or maybe cabin-ing. Somewhere with walls and running water.” Eddie sounds breathless, like he’s run a marathon. Wayne finally looks up and sees the look in his eyes. “Could go fishing and roast marshmallows and swim and stuff. Like that one time.”

He’s talking about the trip they took together a few months after he moved in permanently. His mama was gone and his dad was sitting in jail waiting for sentencing on an armed robbery turned homicide. Wayne wanted to get Eddie’s mind off everything before he had to go back to school, so he took him up to a friend’s cabin at the lake for a few days.

Eddie’s never been an outside person, but they had fun there.

It was the first time Wayne felt like Eddie was his.

It may have been the first time Eddie felt safe with Wayne, too.

“I could see if that cabin’s available. My buddy doesn’t rent it out much anymore so I’m sure he’d be fine with us using it.”

“Could Steve come?”

“Sure.”

He agrees without a second thought.

This is Eddie’s way of seeking comfort in the people he has left, he can see it from a mile away. If Eddie needs Steve to come with them, it’s no skin off Wayne’s back.

Plus, Wayne can recognize how badly Steve needs to relax. He can’t believe someone as young as him walks with so much tension in his shoulders and lines on his forehead.

“Sweet. He’s never been fishing,” Eddie explains. “Or hiking in the right side up. At least not proper hiking. I guess we aren’t really doing proper hiking. I’m wearing jeans. Can’t be real hiking.”

Wayne smiles down at the sports section of the paper, nodding and humming in agreement when Eddie recommends something else for their trip.

- - -

Steve tries insisting on taking his car as his contribution to the weekend, but Wayne tells him they need the space in his truck for all their gear. It occurs to him when Steve just blinks back at him that Eddie didn’t explain how much is actually involved in all this.

But Wayne takes the time to show him some of the stuff he already has packed in the bed of his truck.

“I thought we were staying in a cabin. Why do we have a tent?” Steve sounds nervous when he asks.

“It’s not a full tent. Just a canopy to hang up to protect us from the sun if we get caught up somewhere during our hike.”

“Hike?” Steve turns towards the trailer, glaring at Eddie, who is too busy trying to figure out which of his sneakers to wear to notice. “He didn’t say anything about hiking. I don’t have boots or, or, anything!”

Wayne grabs Steve’s shoulders, looks him in the eye, and lets out a laugh.

“Do ya think Eddie would agree to go on a hike that requires special boots?” Wayne shakes his head. “Don’t think I could bribe him to go on anything but an easy trail unless that Lars guy from Metallica was at the end of it.”

“So I’ll be fine in my Nikes?” Steve clarifies.

“Better than.” Wayne turns back to the truck bed. “I grabbed an extra pole for ya, but it’s a bit short. We can make it work, though.”

Steve stares at everything piled into the truck. Wayne stares at Steve.

He can’t read him quite like he can read Eddie, not yet, but he’s got a feeling that Steve’s overwhelmed by the effort. Wayne doesn’t know much about his upbringing, but he can imagine it was pretty lonely what with his parents being gone more than they were home.

He’s certain Richard Harrington wouldn’t even know how to cast a line, let alone catch a fish.

“Wayne! Should I just bring both?” Eddie’s standing barefoot on the top step of the deck, holding two pairs of sneakers up.

“Sure, Ed.” Wayne looks down at his bare feet and wrinkles his nose. “Don’t forget your socks.”

“Does he do that a lot?” Steve asks, still staring at everything in the truck.

“Not so much anymore. When he’s got a lot on his mind, though, he forgets little stuff. Socks, underwear, eating.” Wayne could go on, but he’s pretty sure Eddie will kill him if he does. “He’s excited for this trip so it probably isn’t at the front of his mind.”

“Right, yeah. I noticed that.” Steve finally looks at Wayne, small smile on his face. Fond, Wayne would say. “He was so caught up on picking up the kids for game night, he forgot the games.”

“Sounds like our boy,” Wayne said, waiting for any kind of negative reaction from Steve at his words.

But Steve’s smile grew, his cheeks flushing a light pink. He looked over at where Eddie had been standing moments ago, and Wayne watches him.

“Steve, I feel like-“

“Wayne! We forgot hot dogs!” Eddie calls from inside the trailer, front door wide open allowing him to see Eddie’s movement by the fridge. “And buns!”

Steve looks back at Wayne. “I can run and get some while you finish up here.”

“I already grabbed them. Check that red cooler and the bag next to it,” Wayne gestured towards three coolers along the side of the truck bed. “He wasn’t payin’ attention when I told him I was packin’ everything.”

“Not surprising.”

“We got it all Ed! Throw your bag in and let’s go!” Wayne calls towards the trailer. “He’s gonna throw a fit about ridin’ in the middle, but that’s what he gets for bein’ a bean pole.”

Steve snorts as he walks over to open the passenger door. “He’ll live.”

Wayne thinks Steve’s gonna fit right in.

- - -

The cabin is off the beaten path. It’s actually off of all paths. They’re lucky that Wayne’s friend visited recently to clear bushes and trees away so they could get to it.

Forest surrounds it on three sides, the lake is in the back.

It’s quiet, an escape for all of them, but especially for Eddie. Whatever thoughts are trying to cloud Eddie’s mind might just float away in the fresh air if he manages to relax enough.

They unload the truck efficiently, bringing everything inside except the fishing equipment, which stays on the front porch so Wayne can load it on the boat before nightfall. He doesn’t bother locking his truck up; There’s no one around for two miles at least.

Steve’s loading things into the fridge and Eddie’s…

“Where’s Ed?” Wayne asks as he grabs his duffel bag to bring to one of the bedrooms.

“Said he wanted to see how cold the water is,” Steve shrugs, shoving the beer to the side so he can make room for Eddie’s Mountain Dew. “Told him it’s probably not that cold since it’s August.”

“Anything less than boiling is too cold for that one,” Wayne chuckles. “I’ll go load the boat.”

He goes out the back door, immediately locating Eddie at the water’s edge. At least he didn’t go far. He was a bit of a flight risk at the best of times and these weren’t really the best of times.

His shoes and socks are off, sitting in the mix of sand and rocks that make up the shoreline. The rocks are smooth, worn down over thousands of years of water and animals and people. Perfect for skipping across the top of the water, splashes disrupting the calm of a lake with few visitors this close to the end of summer.

Wayne showed Eddie how to skip rocks years ago, not on this lake, but a much smaller one that they’d visited for the day the summer before he started high school. It took him about 100 tries before he got it, but when he did, he’d beamed back at Wayne, proud of himself for possibly the first time in his life.

But he’s not skipping rocks now. He’s standing at the shoreline, where the small waves break against the sand, staring out at the horizon. Wayne is tempted to leave him be, but he can’t.

He walks up behind him, makes sure to clear his throat so he isn’t completely startled when Wayne stops right where the water stops. It licks right at the toes of his boots, but they’re his work ones, steel-toe.

Eddie turns and gives him a small smile.

“Sorry, just wanted to dip my feet in.” Eddie apologizes as if Wayne would care that he’s already finding solace in the solitude of the lake.

“Stay out here as long as you want, kid. You okay?” Wayne watches as Eddie’s hands curl into fists and then relax against his thighs.

“Yeah. Thanks for bringing me out here. I’ll help load the boat,” Eddie offers, already turning towards Wayne fully and taking a step out of the water. Wayne holds his hand up to stop him. “What?”

“I got it. You can help pack the cooler in the mornin’.”

Eddie shrugs and turns back to the lake.

Wayne watches him for another minute, silent so he doesn’t disturb whatever thoughts are brewing in Eddie’s head.

As he walks back to the porch to grab the tackle boxes and poles for the boat, he sees Steve watching Eddie out the kitchen window, concerned frown and furrowed brow on his face.

Steve doesn’t notice him.

- - -

The first night is Wayne making dinner while Steve and Eddie argue over which side of the queen sized bed they’re sleeping on. He can’t help but laugh at how quickly it went from calmly suggesting the other person sleeps on the window side to personal insults.

When he hears Eddie say something about Steve’s hair being too big, he shouts for them to join him.

Dinner is relatively peaceful considering the warzone that was their shared bedroom moments before sitting down to eat. Everyone enjoys the chicken and green beans Wayne cooked, barely leaving any for leftovers. They talk about their plans for the morning, and Steve offers to clean up after they eat so Wayne can have an early night.

It’s kind of him, but he already knows their arguing is just gonna wake him up if they haven’t settled on the bed issue.

“How about you take turns sleepin’ by the window?” Wayne asks before agreeing to an early bedtime. “That way it’s fair.”

“But who has to sleep there tonight?” Eddie asks, sticking his tongue out at Steve.

“Rock, paper, scissors?”

“That’s stupid.”

Wayne raises his brow at Eddie’s crossed arms. “Draw straws then.”

“We don’t have straws.” Steve looks around the kitchen, trying to find something they can use in place of straws, but fails. “It’s fine. I’ll take the window.”

Wayne can tell he doesn’t want to, and he’s pretty sure he can guess why neither of them is thrilled with sleeping directly under a window that looks out into a dense forest, but Steve’s a self-sacrificial kind of guy. That’s been clear for as long as Wayne’s known him.

He also knows that Eddie, even as stubborn as he is, wouldn’t let a friend feel uncomfortable.

“I’ll take it tonight.” Eddie offers.

“No, it’s okay. I can take it.”

Wayne rolls his eyes. “Y’all will argue over anything.”

Steve and Eddie both turn to him with matching grins. “Mhm.” They agree in unison.

“Eddie takes window tonight,” Wayne says. “Steve can have it tomorrow night. Whoever catches the biggest fish this weekend gets to pick on the last night.”

“Sounds fair,” Steve nods, turning to Eddie to see if he agrees.

“Sure. Fair.” Eddie stands and starts clearing the drinks from the table.

Wayne decides to leave before he gets dragged into a new disagreement. He’s only got so much patience.

He’s not surprised to hear them go out the back door after the sun sets, voices quiet, but still audible through Wayne’s open bedroom window.

They don’t go far, just past the porch, about halfway to the water.

“You know, my dad would never have done anything like this with me,” Steve states, only a small hint of bitterness in his tone. “He didn’t believe in bonding time or whatever. Thought that was for fathers and sons who didn’t have a family business to maintain.”

“My dad never did either.” Eddie says back, and Wayne’s heart stops in his chest. “Probably couldn’t have stayed sober enough to make the drive to a place like this.”

Wayne waits for Steve to say something, anything. He waits for so long, he’s tempted to look out the window and see if he can see them under the light of the moon.

“Your dad didn’t deserve you,” Steve finally says, quieter than they’d been before, like he didn’t want to disrupt the quiet night with his words. “And you deserved better than him.”

“I had Wayne eventually. I have Wayne now.” Eddie replies just as quietly. “And you do too, ya know.”

Wayne isn’t much of a crier. He’s only done it a handful of times. But Eddie’s words make his eyes well up and his throat burn.

“He barely knows me,” Steve tries to argue.

“He knows enough. You were there for the worst of my shit. You still stick around. You’re here right now even though you could’ve turned down his invitation.” Eddie sounds like he’s holding back tears now. “If you mean a lot to me, you mean a lot to Wayne. You’ll just have to get used to it.”

Wayne wishes he could be a part of this conversation, or at least be able to see them both. He’s respecting their space as much as he can, though. He’s laying in his bed and biting back tears the way any respectful uncle would.

“I’m not used to meaning so much to someone.”

Wayne isn’t sure he hears him right, his voice breaking halfway through, but Steve couldn’t have said anything else.

He should stop listening. This is turning into something else entirely, he thinks. He shouldn’t hear whatever Eddie says next.

“You mean everything to me.”

Wayne closes his eyes, holds his breath, hopes that if Steve takes it the way he knows Eddie means it, that this doesn’t turn into a real fight. He hopes that Steve’s reaction is kind, even if it’s not what Eddie wants.

Wayne’s almost grateful that he can’t hear what Steve says next. Whether it’s rude or loving, he doesn’t want to be a part of this moment like this. He can’t close his window, they’d hear it. He can’t leave his room, he’ll just be in view when they come back inside.

He waits one minute, two, three. He hears a twig snap and then quiet giggling.

He smiles to himself as he hears footsteps heading back towards the cabin.

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Eddie wakes up with Steve’s arms around him and something bubbling in his chest.

Could be heartburn, or it could be the love that’s been growing inside him for months.

He remembers their conversation last night, looking up at the stars and listening to the leaves gently brushing against each other in the breeze, and he can’t help the blush on his cheeks. When Steve kissed him last night, he was pretty sure he was dreaming.

This wasn’t a dream, though.

They stayed up way too late. Eddie knew the moment he looked at the clock as they got into bed and saw 1:48 in bright red that he’d struggle today.

He could hear Wayne moving around the cabin, probably making coffee and breakfast for them since they’d need an early start for fishing. It wasn’t Eddie’s favorite thing to do, but Wayne loved it, and Eddie loved Wayne.

Steve groaned as he moved one arm above his head.

Eddie looks up at him, blushing harder when Steve’s half-lidded eyes are already looking down at him. He’s smiling, cocky if Eddie’s reading him right.

“Sleep okay?” Steve’s sleep-raspy voice asks, fingers gliding across Eddie’s upper arm in unknown patterns.

“Mhm. Not long enough,” Eddie admits. “Could stay in bed.”

Steve hums in agreement before seemingly realizing that Wayne’s already up. “Don’t think we can skip out on Wayne, though.”

This is why Eddie has a hard time pushing his feelings down for Steve. He’s done this before, whether he realizes he did or not.

In the hospital, the day after he’d woken up, Steve had stopped by to bring some clothes for Wayne since he refused to leave Eddie’s side. The kids had apparently been hounding him to take them with him, but he stood his ground and told them that Eddie needed time with just Wayne right now and that he needed rest.

A few weeks later, Steve could’ve easily taken Eddie home by himself, but insisted on waiting for Wayne to get off of work to do it.

Just a week ago, Wayne had forgotten a few things at the store, and when Steve overheard him grumbling about having to make another trip, he offered to go.

That’s just who Steve is.

Eddie loves him for it.

“Yeah. He’d be so bored without me scaring the fish away with my constant humming and leg jiggling,” Eddie agrees seriously. “Wouldn’t want him to miss me.”

Steve lets out a loud laugh, and Eddie hides his pleased smile in Steve’s chest.

He can’t believe he’s doing this right now, can’t believe Steve’s arm tightens around him, pulls him closer so all he can feel and smell is Steve.

“You could just stay quiet while we fish,” Steve suggests, as if Eddie hasn’t thought of that already. “Just for a little bit.”

“That sounds boring.”

Steve pokes Eddie’s cheek with his other hand. Eddie nips at his fingertip before Steve can pull away. They both laugh.

It’s easy.

A knock on the door interrupts the casual cuddling, but Eddie knows it’s not because Steve’s ashamed to be caught with him like that. Steve isn’t used to this being okay.

“You boys up?” Wayne’s voice is barely muffled through the door, something Eddie notes for later.

“Yeah!” Eddie calls back, though he probably didn’t need to speak more than normal volume.

Steve is tense below him. Eddie hates that.

He tries to soothe him by running his hand along his side, memorizing the bumps of his scars, keeping his breathing even so Steve would calm down. Wayne wouldn’t walk in without Eddie telling him he could, but Steve must’ve assumed he didn’t respect his space that much.

“Breakfast is done. Just made eggs and toast.” Wayne knocks once more on the door before they can hear his footsteps walking back to the kitchen.

Steve relaxes and sighs.

“You don’t have to do that.” Eddie still traces along the scar on his hip. “Wayne’s cool.”

“I know.” Steve goes to sit up, but Eddie holds him down. “Eddie, I know. It’s okay. I didn’t mean to react like that.”

“There’s a price to pay before you get up.”

Steve snorts. “And what’s that?”

“A kiss.”

Steve kisses the top of Eddie’s head.

“Unfortunately, I won’t be accepting that form of payment.”

Steve’s hand cups Eddie’s cheek, thumb rubbing slowly as he guides his face up to look at him. Eddie hopes he can’t feel the heat on his skin, but the odds aren’t great.

“One kiss.”

“Only one?” Eddie pouts.

“Don’t wanna get carried away when we’re supposed to be getting up.” Steve leans in until his breath is hot against Eddie’s lips. “So one kiss and then you let me leave so we can go fishing with your uncle.”

“Fine.” Eddie can’t help smiling into the kiss. It’s quicker than he wants, but it’s perfect. When Steve pulls away, Eddie groans and falls flat on his back. “What if we fake sick?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Steve laughs as he gets out of bed and tries to get changed into regular clothes.

Eddie watches him, can’t wipe the smile off his face as Steve nearly trips over his own pant leg. He doesn’t even care if Steve catches him looking, not anymore.

He gets to look now.

After Eddie’s confession last night, after their first kiss, and the second and third, and talking for two hours by the water, it was pretty obvious that they were skipping over that new relationship awkwardness. Eddie hadn’t quite said he loved Steve, and Steve hadn’t said it either, but actions spoke louder than words. The way they couldn’t stop touching, the way Steve looked at Eddie while he talked about his most recent adventure with Dustin, the way Eddie watched Steve throw rocks as far as he could into the depths of the lake, it was all love.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m never leaving this room.” Steve is looking at him as he buttons his jeans and Eddie is considering sending Wayne on his own.

He waited months for this, but now it felt like waiting another hour was too much.

“Looking at you like what?” Eddie asks innocently.

“Like you wanna eat me.”

“Well…” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows and taps the bed. “I could eat breakfast in bed if you get back in it.”

Steve walks over to the bed, leans over Eddie, gets close enough to nip at his top lip.

“Get out of bed.” He presses a quick kiss to Eddie’s lips before walking to the door. He leaves it open as he leaves the room without looking back.

Eddie curses Steve’s ability to get him to do anything, and reluctantly gets out of bed. He throws on his shorts, a tank top, and ties his bandana in his hair so he doesn’t have to worry about it sticking to his forehead.

When he gets to the kitchen, Wayne and Steve are staring out the window and whispering.

“I didn’t think we’d see a marsh hawk. Population’s been down for the last decade,” Wayne’s saying as Eddie walks up on his other side. “I’ve only seen one before and that was during a trip to Lake Michigan when I was 14 or 15.”

Eddie looks out the window, trying to see what they see. He’s not sure what a marsh hawk looks like, but he’s assuming it’s one of the birds in the nearby trees.

Steve wordlessly points it out to him.

“That’s a cool bird.” Eddie says at a normal volume. The bird spreads its wings out, acting as if it might take off. It’s beautiful, the white along its beak and chest a stunning contrast to its dark brown wings.

“It’s good luck to see one in some cases,” Wayne whispers as he turns away from the window. “Seeing one on your wedding day is supposed to lead to a long and happy marriage.”

“Too bad no one’s getting married here today,” Eddie remarks as he grabs a plate and starts to scoop eggs onto it.

“Not married. But still good luck,” Steve mutters as he follows Eddie. “So we just have to grab the cooler on our way out?”

Wayne nods. “And the bait.”

“I thought we used plastic stuff.”

“We use lures, but we put worms on there to get the fish to actually bite,” Wayne explains. “I’ve got plenty of stuff for bass, but I dunno how lucky we’ll be.”

Eddie nods along as he takes a huge bite of toast. “One time we forgot worms and had to use hot dogs.”

“Fish eat hot dogs?” Steve asks in surprise.

“Some fish settle for hot dogs. They don’t quite realize ‘til it’s too late that it ain’t their food,” Wayne shrugs. “But we got plenty of worms for this trip. Should be perfect fishing conditions.”

They all ate in silence after that, but Eddie could feel Steve’s nerves building the closer they all got to clean plates.

Steve didn’t have to say it for Eddie to know he desperately wanted to impress Wayne, especially now that they were…something. They probably needed to clarify exactly what they were at some point soon. They would. Eventually. Tonight maybe.

Or tomorrow.

“I’ll clean up if you boys wanna finish getting ready.” Wayne offered as he scraped the last of his eggs onto his fork.

Eddie took him up on his offer, jumping up to go brush his teeth and get his sneakers on.

“You comin’?” He asks Steve, who’s still slowly eating the eggs he drenched in ketchup.

“Just a second,” Steve replies with his mouth full. “You can use the bathroom first.”

Eddie nods and leaves the room.

He hears the sink in the kitchen running a few seconds later, and the hushed voices of Wayne and Steve having a whispered conversation. He could sneak back, try to listen in, but he thinks that maybe Steve needs this minute alone with him.

He finishes what he needs to do quickly, though, and admittedly sneaks back towards the kitchen quieter than he normally would, hoping to overhear something interesting.

But all he walks into is Steve laughing as Wayne smiles back.

Eddie doesn’t find that he minds much, as long as they’re both happy.

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Being on the boat is different as an adult.

The last time Eddie fished with Wayne on a boat, he was barely shoulder height on him and 100 pounds soaking wet. It was a much smaller boat, though, barely fit two grown adults comfortably.

This boat, however, was built for a family of at least four adults. The awning covered half of the boat, so Eddie didn’t have to sit in direct sunlight when the sun finally rose.

Steve stood to the side, watching Wayne prep the lures and bait, casting his own line out and reeling it in until it was taut. Eddie went next, making a show of it just like he always did. Wayne doesn’t comment, just shakes his head and smiles fondly as he watches the water.

“Um,” Steve starts. “I guess it’s my turn.”

Eddie’s pretty sure Wayne knows Steve’s nervous. It’s hard not to tell with how quiet he’s been the entire ride to the middle of the lake.

Wayne sets his pole in the stand at the stern, and turns to Steve with his hands on his hips. “You saw how I cast mine?”

Steve nods, but doesn’t look sure. Eddie’s not really used to seeing Steve anything less than confident, even in the face of monsters.

It hits him the moment he thinks about monsters.

They’re on a lake. A lake very similar, though much larger, to the same lake that almost dragged Steve to his death. A lake he’d previously trusted, and no longer could.

Eddie doesn’t say anything, just subtly places his hand against Steve’s hip, offering whatever comfort he can. Steve won’t admit he’s scared, but Eddie doesn’t need him to.

Wayne sees it, Eddie knows he does. But because he’s the best uncle, he doesn’t say anything.

He raises a brow and then schools his features back to a comforting smile before showing Steve how to hold the pole so he can cast it comfortably and far enough out that movements from the boat don’t scare the fish from the hook.

Eddie watches, and he sees the nerves slowly easing from Steve’s shoulders, his forehead, and his arms. He relaxes inch by inch, and Eddie couldn’t be more in love.

Wayne steps back so Steve can cast his line.

When the bobber hits the water, Wayne smiles and pats his shoulder. “Good job, son. Now reel it in a bit so you can feel if something bites. Good. Now we just wait.”

Steve turns red at the praise and Eddie realizes that Steve probably hasn’t heard a “good job” from an adult in a very, very long time.

Eddie’s childhood was fucked, but at least Wayne was there cheering him on, showing him what it meant to be proud of your kid eventually. He’s pretty sure Steve hasn’t had that for most of his life.

“How long do we wait?” Steve asks after a few minutes.

The lake is near silent, and the water is so smooth it looks like glass. If Eddie leaned over, he’d probably be able to see his reflection. The gentle lapping of water on the side of the boat and the distant sound of birds in the trees lining the water’s edge fills the air.

“I usually give it 10 or 15 minutes before reeling it in. Check my bait, maybe change the lure if there’s no bites.” Wayne’s watching the end of Steve’s line as he speaks. “I used bass lures on all of ours, but we might change them up in a minute. See what else is out there.”

Steve nods and turns back.

Wayne doesn’t take his eyes off of Steve’s bobber.

Eddie watches Wayne curiously.

Anytime he’s fished with Wayne, he’s left Eddie to his own devices after showing him what to do. He watches his own line, and only steps in to help if Eddie catches something and doesn’t wanna touch the fish.

Wayne’s eyes widen just as Steve exclaims, “Hey! Look!”

“Reel it in!” Wayne shouts, setting his pole down again and rushing to stand next to Steve.

Eddie turns and watches as Steve reels in whatever he’s caught. Judging by the bend in the pole, it’s a decent sized fish.

“Shit, what if it breaks?” Steve asks, voice shaking with the effort of trying to reel in the fish before it escapes.

“It won’t. Keep going.”

When they manage to get the fish out of the water and into the boat, Steve is breathless.

“Look at that!” Wayne holds up the line, right above where the hook is caught in the fish’s mouth, beaming at Steve. “Our boy got himself a king salmon!”

Ignoring his mention of “our” boy, Eddie steps closer and grips Steve’s shoulder, shaking him just enough to make the boat rock.

“How can you tell?” Steve asks Wayne, reaching out to hold the fish up himself.

“You see all these black spots on his back and fins?” Wayne points at a few of the spots. “Other salmon don’t have this many spots or any at all. You keepin’ him or throwin’ him back?”

Steve looks at Eddie, smile falling as he suddenly looks unsure about what the right thing to do is. Before Eddie can say anything, Wayne wraps his arm around Steve’s shoulders.

“Either is fine with me. Could cook him up for supper if you wanna keep him or send him back to his friends with a new piercing.” Wayne looks over at Eddie. “Eddie ain’t much for seafood, but I make a mean baked salmon.”

Steve nods. “Yeah, think I’ll keep this one.”

Wayne pats his shoulder again before showing him how to unhook the fish safely. He opens up the empty cooler he brought and places the fish inside.

Wayne moves to grab the bait so Steve can set up again, and while his back is turned, Eddie takes a chance.

He leans over and kisses the corner of Steve’s mouth.

“You’re a natural,” Eddie whispers as he leans away again.

“Shut up.” Steve is blushing that same pretty pink that he was last night and earlier this morning. Eddie can’t look away. “Just lucky.”

Wayne catches two rainbow trout and Eddie manages to catch a small northern pike, which quickly gets thrown back when Eddie starts to make up a story about how it’s a teenager who got separated from its parents. Wayne shakes his head as Eddie carries on, but he’s used to it. Eddie never keeps his catch if he’s lucky enough to have one.

They relax as the day warms up, popping open cans of soda as the sun gets closer to the middle of the sky. It’s not about fishing anymore; It’s about soaking up the tranquility of their surroundings.

Eddie isn’t known for being still or quiet, but even he can let himself enjoy this. Every day since March has been about survival, and appointments, and witness statements, and lawyers, and moving, and the kids. He feels like he’s barely even had time to think.

So while he sits on this boat with two of his favorite people, he thinks.

He thinks about how different his life is now, and how different it could still be.

He thinks about how much Wayne has sacrificed for him for most of his life, but especially the last five months.

He thinks about how much he wants to tell Steve he loves him.

He thinks he’ll tell him tonight.

📼📼📼📼📼

Steve sits on the porch while Wayne cleans the fish, staying a good distance away so he doesn’t end up seeing things that’ll make him wish he left the poor salmon in the lake. Eddie’s inside doing god knows what.

He’s never been happier.

He does wish Robin could be here, but she hates the outdoors. She didn’t even like going on her family’s beach trip last month.

Plus, he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t have been able to have the alone time he needed with Eddie last night if she were here. Even though she’s been telling him to just talk to him for the last three months, she wouldn’t have caught on to his plan.

Feeling this much for Eddie isn’t new.

After the events of spring break, Steve took a long, hard look at high school and realized that at least part of the reason he was always staring at Eddie was because he was very interested. He started looking for any excuse to stick around in Eddie’s hospital room, and then offered to take him to appointments, and it continued from there.

Now, they hang out almost every day. Sometimes it’s with the kids, sometimes with Robin, sometimes alone.

Steve realizes that even before they kissed and fell asleep holding each other and flirted as much as possible all day, this was the best relationship he’s ever had. He needs to tell Eddie as soon as they’re alone.

“All done,” Wayne says as he steps onto the porch, the container of cleaned fish in his hand. “You ready to learn the secret to makin’ the best fish?”

Steve is quick to nod, excited that Wayne thinks he’s even worth the time it’ll take to show him. Wayne’s been so kind this entire trip, making sure Steve is involved and welcomed, makes him feel like he belongs in their little family.

As Wayne grabs everything they’ll need, Steve sees Eddie through their bedroom door, writing in a journal, tongue poking between his lips as he concentrates. Steve’s never seen this journal, but he can assume it’s another one of his many already filled with songs and campaign ideas.

“You done starin’ at Ed?” Wayne’s voice is quiet behind him, but still makes him jump with surprise.

“Wasn’t staring at him. Thought I saw a…um…bug?” Steve knows he’s been caught halfway through trying to lie, so he moves on. “Ready?”

“Are you?” Wayne raises a brow and smirks.

“Yes!” Steve puts his hands on his hips. “What are you implying?”

“Mostly that you’re too in love with my nephew to focus on what I’m sayin’.”

Steve feels heat in his cheeks, but he chooses to ignore it and pretend that he can distract Wayne from what he’s saying.

“So we’re frying your fish and baking my salmon?” Steve starts holding up some of the spices Wayne’s set out on the counter. He can feel Wayne’s eyes on him. “Looks like you like spice.”

“Steve.” Wayne sighs. “It’s okay to feel however you feel. I ain’t gonna judge.”

“Right. Yeah.” Steve turns to finally look at Wayne, who looks sad. He shouldn’t look sad right now.

“Eddie ever tell ya about Paul?” Wayne starts filling one pan with oil and the other with a few small pads of butter.

Steve shakes his head, watching closely.

“Paul was my boyfriend when Ed first came to live with me.”

Steve’s eyes widen as that hits him.

“Woulda been my husband had we been able to be married.” Wayne starts mixing flour, salt, and pepper in a bowl while he talks. “He was a long haul truck driver. Gone for weeks at a time. Stayed with me when he passed through. Came home one day to Eddie asleep in the bed we usually shared and asked if I’d been up to something.”

Wayne smiles fondly down at the bowl of eggs, buttermilk, lemon juice, and garlic he’d started mixing together as he spoke.

“Told him everything. Expected him to call it quits. He didn’t sign up for raising a troubled kid, especially not one who may not be okay with what we had.” Wayne stops and looks up at Steve. “But he just hugged me and said he’d follow my lead. Whatever was best for Ed was what was best for us. Ain’t sure I could ever find a love like that again.”

Steve can feel tears trying to form in his eyes, but he manages to bite them back. He’s pretty sure he knows where this is going, but he listens without interrupting.

“Ed didn’t take too well to him at first. Probably ‘cause he was in and out so much, didn’t get time to bond with him like I did. Paul was patient. Always so patient with both of us.” Wayne shakes his head and looks down at the counter before he looks up smiling again. “Ed came out to Paul first, ya know? When he was 13. He’d gone on a short haul with him over the summer and when they came back, they were thick as thieves. Paul told me that night that Ed had told him he liked boys and it changed their entire relationship. I was Uncle Wayne, but Paul was like a dad to him. Definitely more than his own dad ever was.”

Wayne looked over to check that Eddie was still in the bedroom, distracted by his writing.

“Paul started taking short hauls instead of long ones. Only gone three or four days at a time instead of 14-20. Thought it was so he could be close to Ed, since we’d kinda become our own little family.”

Steve realizes he’s holding his breath when Wayne sniffs.

“He’d gotten sick and didn’t tell us. Started out thinkin’ it was pneumonia, but it got worse. Doctor thought it was heart problems, but it was everywhere. Leukemia. Untreatable by the time they figured it out.”

Steve’s wrapping his arms around Wayne before he even realizes he’s doing it, letting the tears fall as he thinks about how much pain Wayne and Eddie must’ve gone through to lose someone so important to them.

“Ed was barely 14 when he passed. I think he took it harder than me.”

Steve can’t even imagine. Wayne lost someone he loved, but Eddie lost a father figure after losing his real father to things he should never have had to compete with. And now Eddie’s father was really dead.

All he really has is Wayne.

“Kid shaved his head in solidarity when Paul lost what little hair he had left,” Wayne huffs a wet laugh as they pull away from each other. “Couldn’t believe it when I got home from work and they were both bald as cue balls. Thought they’d lost it.”

Steve and Wayne are both laughing, and it’s probably going to draw Eddie’s attention, but he kinda hopes it does. He could use Eddie’s closeness right now. He needs to see that he’s okay, that this didn’t completely destroy him, that he went on anyway.

But all Eddie does is yell at them to keep it down, which just makes them laugh harder.

“And you never dated anyone else?” Steve asks as Wayne starts putting his fishin the egg mixture. “Not even for fun?”

“Nah. Once Paul was gone, I had to work more to pay the bills. What little time I had was spent with Ed. He was my priority, always.”

Steve wipes the tears from his cheeks as he watches Wayne drop the fish into the hot oil.

“What about now?” Eddie was busy with his own life now, and they’d received enough money from the government to cover their new trailer and have plenty leftover to cover bills. Wayne was retired and had plenty of time to start dating again.

“I got lucky with Paul. It ain’t fair to compare any future relationship to what we had and I think that’s all I’d do. I’m happy the way things are for now.”

Steve drops it for now, but he makes a note to ask Eddie about it soon. He’s surprised Eddie never mentioned Paul, or even the fact that Wayne was gay, especially when he came out to Steve and Robin while he was still in the hospital.

Wayne goes on to explain how long he keeps the fish in the oil before flipping them to make sure the cooking is even, and how putting them onto paper towels to cool drains too much of the grease.

As Steve watches him prep the salmon with a glaze he made from garlic, honey, and lemon juice, Eddie finally comes out of the bedroom.

“Smells like fish,” he says with a grin.

“That’d be the fish.” Wayne doesn’t even bother looking over at him as he leans against the counter. “Salmon is already a tender fish, so you can bake it to whatever you prefer. It should only take about 10 minutes on 400 unless you like it extra crispy, then you may wanna do it for 13 minutes.”

“Chef Wayne teaching you everything you need to know?” Eddie asks Steve, stepping close enough for Steve to feel the heat coming from his body.

“He’s pretty talented. Might need to consider opening a restaurant,” Steve teases.

“Wait ‘til you have his steak. So tender you could cut it with a spoon.”

“Don’t know what you’re after with your compliments, but I’d rather ya just ask for it.” Wayne checked the clock as he closed the oven door.

“I was just bein’ nice!” Eddie exclaims, throwing his arms up in frustration. Steve never noticed how Eddie’s accent changes the more time he spends around Wayne, but he smiles to himself when it slips now. “See if I give ya a compliment again, old man.”

Steve watches as they banter back and forth some more, both of them smiling and laughing the entire time.

It’s nothing like what Steve was used to. His parents never bantered, only fought. Anything that was big enough for discussion, was big enough to yell about. As Steve got older, he learned that staying quiet and letting them get it out would usually turn out better for him. Luckily, once he reached middle school, they didn’t bother coming home enough for him to worry about what to do when they were arguing.

He doesn’t remember a time when there was fun and laughter between them, not even when he was a young child. He can remember his mom dancing with him while his dad was gone on business trips, but the moment he arrived home, the air became thick with tension and her attitude became somber. He remembers one time when his dad let him sit on his desk while he worked, making paper airplanes and having a competition to see how far they could fly, but the moment the phone rang, he was hissing a ‘get out’ with no explanation for the abrupt stop to the fun.

Steve couldn’t imagine talking to either of his parents the way Eddie talks to Wayne, but he also couldn’t imagine receiving the love from them that Wayne so easily gives to Eddie.

And now that he knows another piece of their story, he can see how they’ve come to be like this, comfortable with each other in ways many kids never are with their parents.

Steve’s mind continues to wander throughout dinner, but no one calls him out on it. Maybe Wayne somehow communicated with Eddie that they’d had a serious conversation. Maybe it was just obvious that Steve was far away from the table. Eddie and Wayne chattered as they ate, and Steve let the constant echoes of their voices be the background noise to his thoughts.

“Stevie?” Eddie’s hand touched his cheek, shaking him out of the path he was lost on. “Wayne’s gonna take a walk. You wanna go?”

Steve smiles up at Eddie before looking down at his plate. He barely remembers eating, but he only has a few small pieces of salmon left.

“Sounds good.”

Eddie looks concerned, but Steve brushes him off. He looks around, and when he doesn’t see Wayne in the room with them, turns his face so he can kiss Eddie’s palm.

“Should we grab the bug spray?” Steve asks as he stands, pushing in his chair and grabbing his plate off the table to wash it.

“Wayne’s got it outside. Think he put enough on for all of us,” Eddie follows close behind Steve. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Just thinking.”

“About?”

“A lot.” Steve brushes it off so they can join Wayne. “Ready?”

Eddie nods and leads the way out of the cabin.

They ate an early dinner, so the sun is still high in the sky as they make their way down a trail that follows the lake’s edge. Eddie occasionally gets distracted by colorful rocks, holding them up excitedly for Steve and Wayne to acknowledge.

Steve knows the love he has for Eddie is written all over his face.

He doesn’t care to hide it.

Wayne’s quiet as they walk, occasionally pointing out a fish splashing in the distance or a heron standing in the water. He swats a mosquito away from Steve’s face, only for the mosquito to turn around and bite his hand. Eddie’s far too busy climbing over fallen limbs and branches of trees to notice what they’re doing.

“You boys should go for a swim when we get back. Water’s cool.” Wayne makes the suggestion without looking at Steve, who suddenly feels like he’s being studied under a microscope.

“Not sure if Eddie even brought a swimsuit.” Steve laughs it off, hopes they can go back to silence or change the subject.

“I’m sure you boys could figure something out.”

Thankfully, the topic gets dropped and Steve is left wondering if Wayne knows.

Sure, he joked about Steve being in love with Eddie earlier, but that wasn’t a confirmation that he knew they were together. He thought they’d been careful today, but maybe Wayne caught them when they kissed by the truck when Eddie was grabbing his wallet from the glovebox.

He doesn’t have time to think about it more because Eddie lets out a yelp and they can only watch as he falls on his ass into a muddy spot between two large rocks.

“I hate the outdoors,” he grumbles as he stands.

Wayne is laughing, but Steve is rushing over to make sure he’s okay.

“Are you hurt?” Steve’s hands are hovering over him, trying to figure out if he sees any blood. “Did you hit your head?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” Eddie replies quietly, holding his arms out as if trying to show proof. “My dignity may be a bit bruised.”

They’re interrupted by the hooting of an owl. It’s loud enough that Wayne shushes them and starts looking around at the trees surrounding them, trying to locate the creature.

It hoots again before Wayne locates it, pointing to a tree only ten feet away and to their right.

“Wow.” Steve says as he gets a close look at it, the white and tan feathers blending into beautiful patterns. “It’s so small. I thought owls were bigger.”

Eddie’s looking up at it, smiling.

To Steve’s shock, he’s the one who responds, not Wayne.

“It’s a northern saw-whet owl. They’re closer to the size of a robin than an owl you may be thinking of.” Eddie reaches for Steve’s hand and squeezes it once before letting it drop. “Paul taught me about all kinds of owls.”

Steve’s head snaps towards him. “You heard us this morning, didn’t you?”

“You weren’t quiet,” Eddie shrugged. “I used to be obsessed with nocturnal animals. He bought me a book about bats and owls for Christmas and went through it page by page with me.”

“I remember that book,” Wayne looks at the owl while he talks. “Paul said it made him nervous to go out at night.”

Eddie laughs. “He was convinced we’d get attacked.”

Steve can’t blame him. The longer he looks at the owl’s impossibly large eyes and spread wings, the more he believes he’s being hunted.

“Ready to head back?” Wayne asks after another minute, drawing his attention away.

“Wish I had a camera like Byers. Probably could get a good picture.” Eddie says as he starts to walk back the way they came.

Steve takes note to ask Jonathan about his so he can get him one for Christmas.

When they make it back to the cabin, Wayne excuses himself to take a shower and do a crossword before bed, which leaves Steve and Eddie to fill their time however they want. Steve thinks back to Wayne’s suggestion about going for a swim, but he’s not sure Eddie would want to now that the sun’s almost set.

He’s not even sure he wants to get into the lake after dark.

But it does sound appealing, especially with the layer of damp sweat coating his skin from their walk. And there is a light on the dock that would make it easier to at least see each other.

“Wanna go for a swim?” Steve asks Eddie as he sips on a soda.

“Now?” Eddie looks out the window in the kitchen, frowning at the darkness looming.

“Now.”

“It’s dark.”

“We can turn on the light at the dock. C’mon. Just a quick dip,” Steve nudges his shoulder as he starts walking to the back door, fully dressed.

“You’re not gonna change?” Eddie asks in disbelief.

“Don’t plan on wearing my clothes in.” Steve winks as he leaves, knowing Eddie will follow him even if he’s hesitant to do so.

Within seconds, the back door is closing and Eddie is on his heels.

“Are we seriously skinny dipping in the lake while my uncle is here?” Eddie hisses out, hand covering Steve’s forearm.

“I’m skinny dipping. You can do whatever you want,” Steve responds. “But I wouldn’t complain if you joined me.”

Eddie huffs beside him, but still follows him the rest of the way to the water’s edge. The light has a covered power switch to their right, but now that they’re in an open area by the water, they realize the moon is pretty bright.

Steve starts stripping off his shirt, then his shoes and socks. Eddie watches, probably trying to decide if he’s gonna join him or go back inside and pretend Steve isn’t naked in the water. When Steve pulls his pants off, Eddie sighs and starts untying his boots.

“Can’t believe you have me getting into another lake. Wasn’t the first time enough?” Eddie’s grumbling loud enough for Steve to hear, but quiet enough that Steve only catches every couple of words and has to use context clues for the rest. He can’t hold back a smile when he shoves his underwear down and leaves them on top of his pile of clothes.

Eddie is still grumbling as he removes his own clothes, enough that he’s distracting himself from realizing Steve’s already naked and waiting for him.

When he looks up, his eyes widen and his jaw drops open.

“You’re gonna catch flies like that,” Steve steps closer as he speaks, feeling more nervous than he expected to. “Probably should get in so the mosquitos don’t get us.”

“Right.” Eddie shakes his head, closing his eyes so he can focus. “Yes. Let’s get in.”

Steve grabs his hand and walks them both to the water. The water is chilly, but not uncomfortably cold. He knows in the next few weeks, the temperature will drop enough at night to cause the lake to be freezing cold. But right now, it’s perfect.

Being here with Eddie is perfect.

Eddie breathes out slowly as they keep walking further in, squeezing Steve’s hand.

“All good?” Steve asks when they’re waist deep.

“Yep. All good. How uh…how far do you wanna go?” Eddie’s looking out at what little they can see of the lake, even with the moonlight glistening off the tiny waves of the lake.

“Just a little more.”

Steve doesn’t take Eddie’s trust for granted here, knows that he’s asking a lot of him.

When the water is just below his collarbone, he stops.

Eddie is tense next to him, but doesn’t seem to be panicking.

“Okay?” Steve asks.

Eddie looks around and then settles back on Steve. “I’m okay.”

Something about the way he says it makes Steve pause, though.

“You can let it out if you need to, baby,” he offers. He’s not sure what it is specifically that makes him think Eddie’s on the edge of tears, but he wants to give him the chance to cry. “I’m right here.”

Eddie doesn’t sob, or cry, or do anything for a minute. They’re both looking out at the dark lake and the moon above, listening to crickets and a gentle breeze in the leaves of the trees nearby. Eddie’s breathing just stops for a few seconds and that’s all the warning Steve gets before he’s sniffling and talking.

“My dad was a piece of shit,” he starts. Steve is gonna follow his lead, and listen, and let Eddie tell him whatever he wants to. Even if that’s all he says. “He hated me. Pretty sure he hated my mom towards the end of her life, too. Anything that put attention on someone other than him was no good. That’s why he got involved with the closest thing Hawkins had to a mafia.”

Steve rubs his thumb against the side of Eddie’s hand under the water, prompting him to continue.

“He ranked pretty high with them so he got plenty of attention. Forgot that he had a wife and a kid. When my mom died, he temporarily got more attention from everyone. Made sure he looked like the mourning husband trying to be strong for the son he barely knew. Even at four and five years old I knew he was full of shit. But at least he was taking me with him sometimes, showing me cool shit. He got arrested when I was seven for petty theft and possession of drugs. Got lucky that the judge believed his sob story of being the only one who could take care of me.” Eddie scoffed. “Paid a fine with money he stole and had to do 80 hours of community service that his boss signed off on after a few weeks. Didn’t care that the only meals I ate were at school and the neighbor’s house when she saw me alone for dinner. Didn’t care that I never had school supplies or clothes that fit. Didn’t care that I missed school anytime I missed the bus, which was often because he never gave me an alarm clock to set to get up in time.”

Steve wants to cry, hearing how shitty Eddie’s childhood was, but he refuses to right now. He doesn’t want Eddie to stop talking.

“When I was nine, he taught me how to steal a car. I could barely see over the steering wheel, but it was the first time I made him proud.” Eddie clears his throat. “He got sent to prison when I was 11. I got put in the system because everything is a mess and Wayne wasn’t even listed as my uncle anywhere. Wayne heard about it all a few weeks later and didn’t stop pushing to have me in his care until they gave in. I’m surprised they put up so much of a fight considering they don’t usually care that much about poor kids with shit parents. Wayne fought for me and I didn’t even know how much he did until I was older.”

Steve glances over to see tears falling down Eddie’s face. He let go of Eddie’s hand to wrap his arm around his waist instead, pulling him against his side.

“He didn’t have to do that. He just knew what a piece of shit my dad was and apparently checked on me a few times a year without me or him knowing. And he told you about Paul.” Steve nods. “Paul was in and out a lot at first, made me suspicious. Thought he was up to no good and just using Wayne as a place to sleep when he wasn’t in the truck. But then he took me with him a few times over the summer and we got closer. I don’t think Wayne even knows how much that man loved him. He was gonna start working more local jobs sooner until I came into the picture and Wayne was struggling to keep up with bills. Long haul makes more money, so he stayed out. Made sure I had clothes and school supplies, made sure I ate three meals a day and had whatever snacks I wanted. Sent payments to the electric company before Wayne even got the bill so I never had to worry about sleeping through alarms or not being able to take a hot shower.”

Steve didn’t realize he was crying until Eddie reached his thumb up to wipe away a tear.

“He was my father in the ways that mattered to me, just like Wayne has been. Losing him was more painful than anything I feel about my dad dying now. All I feel now is guilt that I feel anything at all.”

Steve uses the arm wrapped around Eddie’s waist and the weightlessness the water allows to lift him up and guide his legs around his waist. He’s looking up at the man he loves, holding the back of his thighs, and wishing he could take every shitty feeling away with his words of comfort.

“You can feel however you feel. I’ll love you through it all,” Steve reassures him. Eddie’s breath catches at his words, and Steve knows he chose the right thing to say at the right time. “No one who cares about you is gonna judge you for having any emotion about your dad dying. If you wanted to stand in the middle of a table in the cafeteria at the school and cheer, I’d sit at the table and cheer you on. If you want to show up at his grave and scream and cry, I’ll hold your hand the whole time. So will Wayne. And so would Paul.”

Eddie sobs as he wraps his arms around Steve’s neck and hides his face against Steve’s neck. Steve can feel the wetness of his tears, can feel his own still falling into the water below. He doesn’t care how long they stay like that, doesn’t even care if this is all they do all night.

But only a few minutes later, Eddie is pulling back and looking down at Steve, hands playing with the wet ends of his hair.

“I didn’t expect any of this this weekend,” he admits. “I should learn to stop having expectations.”

Steve’s lips turn up in a half-smile as Eddie rests his forehead against his. “Better or worse than what you expected?”

Eddie snorts. “Better. Always better with you.”

Steve’s glad it’s dark enough to hide his blush, but he’s sure Eddie knows what he does to him by now. If he doesn’t, he will soon enough.

Eddie traces a line along Steve’s neck, gently poking at his moles as he watches his own movements. Steve holds him, lets him do what he wants, feels every touch like lightning.

“I love you,” he finally says, barely more than a whisper, like he’s unsure it’s okay, even after Steve’s confession. “I think I have for a while.”

Steve wants to kiss him, but this moment still feels like a part of Eddie’s monologue. He wants Eddie to lead now, to show him how to love him. Whatever he needs, Steve will give it willingly and gladly.

“How long until Wayne comes to make sure we didn’t drown?” Eddie asks.

“Probably not unless we’re still gone by morning.”

“As lovely as being in your arms all night sounds, I don’t know if I’d wanna stay in the water that long,” Eddie laughs as his legs tighten around Steve’s waist. Their mostly soft cocks brush against each other, making them both inhale loudly. “A little longer might not be so bad, though.”

Steve’s finding it harder not to kiss him, not to let his hands wander from Eddie’s thighs, up to his waist, back to his ass. He resists, but Eddie shifts his weight again and everything gets harder.

“You’re killing me.” Steve groans, letting his head fall back so he can look up at the stars in the sky instead of the ones in Eddie’s eyes.

“Look at me.” Eddie’s tone’s shifted to something serious, still adorned with an affection Steve can’t believe he gets to hear. Steve looks at him with his lips parted and unblinking eyes. “I wanna be yours. Will you let me?”

Steve nods. That’s all he can do.

Eddie’s lips are against his, gently coaxing them apart further so he can slip his tongue inside. Steve’s not even thinking about how he hasn’t brushed his teeth or eaten a mint since supper, the warmth of Eddie’s hands circling behind his back and rubbing his shoulders enough of a distraction even without his tongue gliding against the roof of his mouth.

Eddie’s hands are slow, but on a very clear path downwards as his tongue traces Steve’s bottom lip. Steve lets his own hands slip to Eddie’s lower back, lets a finger trace up and back down his spine.

Eddie shivers in his arms.

“Cold?” Steve whispers.

Eddie shakes his head. “Feels good.”

So Steve does it again, with more pressure, hoping Eddie gets the hint.

When Eddie’s hips grind forward, he knows he did.

They’re both nearly fully hard now, lips meeting again, hungrier and biting. Their moans vibrate between their chests, every movement rippling the water around them.

Eddie’s rocking his hips back and forth, friction against their cocks not quite enough to do more than get them more worked up.

The water doesn’t feel cool anymore, Steve’s body already adjusted to the temperature the moment Eddie’s hands were on him.

“Can I touch you?” Eddie asks, bringing Steve out of his thoughts about doing this in his pool when they got home. His hand is flat against Steve’s stomach, fingertips dragging through his happy trail.

“Want you to feel good too, love,” Steve trails one of his hands to Eddie’s front, stopping for a moment on the angry scars covering his side. “Together?”

Eddie slides impossibly closer, wrapping his hand around both of their cocks at once. Steve’s legs would’ve buckled without the help of the lake holding him up.

“Together is good,” Eddie smirks as his hand works them both over, squeezing at the tip the way Steve likes.

Steve had every intention of helping, but he’s doing all he can to keep his feet on the sandy ground and Eddie’s legs wrapped around his waist. He whimpers as Eddie leans in to kiss him slowly, a contradiction to his hand speeding up around them.

“Eddie, I’m…close.” Steve pants against his lips when he pulls back for air. His toes are curling in the sand below, and the small waves around them are splashing against their necks as Eddie’s hand moves faster. Steve’s bucking up into his touch, doesn’t care how desperate he seems.

“Me too, Stevie.” Eddie reassures him, just as breathless as Steve is.

Despite the words spoken and the increasing heat coiling in his belly, Steve gasps in surprise when he comes. He’s even more surprised when Eddie is right behind him, whispering Steve’s name repeatedly as his grip around them tightens then loosens.

Chests heaving, legs shaking, they stare at each other in the glow of the moonlight.

“I normally last a lot longer,” Steve breaks the silence.

Eddie breaks into loud laughter, head falling onto Steve’s shoulder before he realizes that the water is too high to do that without getting wet. He drops his legs and stands, keeping his arms wrapped around Steve’s waist for stability.

“New record for me, too, baby.”

“Next time, we’ll take our time.” Steve promises not only Eddie, but himself. He knows he has better self control than what Eddie just witnessed.

“You wanna head inside and take our time there?” Eddie’s smirking at him, fingers playfully teasing his sides under the water.

“Not sure I can be quiet enough.”

“Even if you bite a pillow?” Eddie pouts.

“I can be pretty loud,” Steve laughs, poking his bottom lip back to normal. “Plus, I’d like to be in one of our own beds when we ma- have sex.”

“Oh my god. Were you gonna say make love?” Eddie is squeezing his arms around him, lifting Steve up so most of his chest is out of the water. Steve’s hands rest against his shoulders, fingertips pruned from being in the water for a while.

“Maybe I was.” Steve knows he’s a sap. He doesn’t care if Eddie thinks it’s silly or stupid, but he does wanna avoid blowing this before it even has a chance to begin.

Eddie must see something in his eyes to keep him from pushing it more. He lets him back down slowly, soft smile on his face.

“I love that you care that much.” Eddie kisses the corner of Steve’s mouth. “I promise we’ll hold off on making love until we’re back home.”

Steve smiles shyly back at him.

“But I wouldn’t be opposed to getting my mouth on you after we shower.”

Steve smacks Eddie’s arm and rolls his eyes.

“You’re ridiculous. I love you.”

“You really do, don’t you?” Eddie sounds awestruck, like it’s suddenly hit him that this is happening, that Steve feels this much for him.

“I really do.”

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Waking up in Steve’s arms for the second morning in a row felt too good to be true.

Most of this trip had felt too good to be true. Last night definitely felt like a dream.

He lets his eyes track over Steve’s bare chest, his neck, his lips pouting out as he sleeps. His eyelids are fluttering, but he’s still asleep, probably coming out of a dream.

Eddie’s fingers trace what’s left of the scar around his neck, touch light enough that Steve wouldn’t feel it in his sleep. He thinks about Steve’s bravery, how he dived head first into everything, be it protecting people from monsters or falling in love. Eddie knows Steve went without medical care after most run-ins in the Upside Down, and had only gotten some last time when Wayne insisted he do so while Eddie was in surgery.

The neck scars faded after they were patched up by a nurse, but many of his other wounds were deeper and infected, leaving a permanent reminder on his back and sides much like Eddie’s.

He traced along the outer lines of one of the scars shaped like a heart on his chest. Steve insisted it was just a weird oval, but Eddie insisted that it was a heart over his heart.

His chest hair has grown back in around it, nearly covering it up if you didn’t look close enough.

Eddie is close enough now.

It’s definitely a heart.

“Not sure how I feel about you staring at my chest that close,” Steve’s raspy voice fills his ear and he looks up to see Steve’s sleepy eyes looking at him. “Max at least had the decency to look from a distance.”

“Ha.” Eddie fake laughs. “I was just admiring your bountiful chest hair and the heart you wear on your sleeve.”

“It’s not a heart,” Steve groans as he covers Eddie’s head with his arms, pulling him on top of him. “You’re just blinded by love.”

“Who knew I’d be the optimist in this relationship?” Eddie breathes against Steve’s lips.

“Probably everyone who’s ever seen me in a relationship.” Steve kisses him quick, just a peck. “Let me up.”

“You’re the one who put me here.” Eddie doesn’t move. “Take me with you if you need to go so badly.”

“Eds, c’mon. I gotta brush my teeth.”

“So do I.”

Steve sighs. Eddie smiles.

“Fine.”

As Steve stands from the bed, Eddie wraps his legs around his waist, a mirror image to their time in the lake. Eddie’s not actually expecting Steve to carry him more than a few steps, but he blushes when he makes it all the way to the bedroom door.

“Still wanna come with me?” Steve raises his eyebrows like he knows Eddie didn’t expect him to take it this far.

“Can you seriously carry me down the hall?”

Steve stares blankly back at him. “I carried you for almost a mile when we got out of the Upside Down.”

“Touché.”

Steve manages to open the door with one hand before it goes back to Eddie’s leg, hoisting him up further so he has a better grip. Eddie just stares down at Steve’s face in amazement.

“Hey Wayne,” Steve says as they pass Wayne’s room. “Sleep okay?”

“Uh huh. There a reason you’re carrying the prince?” Wayne asks, causing Eddie to turn his head and scowl. “Wake up grumpy?”

“Woke up lazy.” Steve responded as he continued on the journey to the bathroom.

Once there, Steve set Eddie down on the floor and handed him his toothbrush. They brush their teeth together, smiling when they catch each other's eye in the mirror.

“Will you kiss me for real now?” Eddie asks after they’ve finished.

“Are you gonna walk to the kitchen by yourself or will I have to carry you?” Steve retorts.

“Your kiss will give me the power to make it.”

Steve snorts a laugh and leans in, his palm resting against Eddie’s jaw to pull him the last inch or so. The kiss is nothing like their back and forth. Steve consumes him, and Eddie lets him.

He doesn’t know how long they stand there, but he thinks it must be longer than they should.

Wayne clears his throat from the doorway. “Didn’t realize this was a part of brushin’ teeth these days.”

Eddie leaps away from Steve, panicked at the thought of Wayne knowing suddenly. He’s been out to Wayne for so long, he forgets that others probably aren’t comfortable being so open. Steve especially, who’s mentioned before that he wasn’t sure if he wanted to come out to everyone until he was sure they’d be okay with it.

“Relax, Ed. I clocked Steve months ago.” Wayne pushes past them to grab his toothbrush and toothpaste. “Move your relations outta here.”

“Relations?” Eddie gags. “Way to ruin the moment.”

“Sorry to ruin your delicate sensibilities. Get out.”

Steve pushes Eddie out of the small bathroom before he can respond. Eddie decides to focus on Steve’s hands on him instead of arguing further.

“Should we make breakfast?” Steve asks as they walk back to the bedroom to get dressed.

“I shouldn’t ever touch an oven, but I’ll watch you lovingly while you make breakfast, darling,” Eddie bats his eyelashes at Steve, who throws his shirt at him. “That’s not very nice. Did I not, and I quote, suck the soul-“

Steve’s hand covers his mouth while he sputters to cover Eddie’s voice from traveling out of the room.

“Jesus, the mouth on you.”

“That’s what you said last night.” Eddie’s words are muffled under Steve’s hand, but they both laugh. “I can make toast.”

“I’ll make the rest.”

Eddie spends the morning touching Steve as much as possible.

He spends the afternoon sneaking kisses and holding him in the hammock set up on the porch thanks to Wayne’s creativity.

He spends the evening watching Wayne and Steve fish while he drinks a beer and hands them whatever they need.

This is a peace that may only last until they leave tomorrow, but something tells him that this is only the beginning of a future Eddie never could’ve pictured for himself.

🎣🎣🎣🎣🎣🎣

five years later

Wayne slams the truck door a bit harder than he means to. The rain just started coming down harder and he wanted to get his bag in the cabin before it got worse.

When he enters the front door, the scent of freshly baked cookies wafts through the air and he smiles.

“Made it, boys!” He yells, though he’s pretty sure speaking at a normal volume would’ve been enough. The cabin hasn’t changed much, but Steve insisted on opening up the front portion so it felt more welcoming.

“Wayne!” Steve exclaims as he pops up from behind the counter of the kitchen. “You just missed Eddie. He went out to the trail.”

Wayne gives Steve a tight hug. At Steve’s frown, he laughs. “Sorry ‘bout the wet clothes. Started raining the last couple miles in and got heavier just as I was leavin’ the truck.”

“Oh no.” Steve groaned.

Just as he spoke, the back door slammed open and Eddie dropped his camera bag on the floor.

Wayne and Steve both took in the sight of him, drenched from head to toe, dripping onto the tile floor, and laughed.

“I hate the outdoors.”

“You’re a nature photographer. You hate the rain.” Steve walks over to him, still laughing under his breath. He picks up the bag before leaning in to kiss his cheek.

Wayne watches the exchange, fighting tears back at the reason he was invited to their cabin this weekend.

Eddie was proposing to Steve and wanted Wayne to be there to capture it with his camera. He didn’t care that Wayne was an old man who could barely operate a camera, he just wanted someone to do it.

He knew Eddie was also a little nervous and having Wayne there would help keep him calm.

Why he was nervous, Wayne didn’t know.

They couldn’t legally get married, but they might as well be anyway.

“Wayne!” Eddie bounces over to him and throws his arms around him, forgetting for a moment that he’s soaked. “You’re here!”

“I’m here. I’d like to be less wet, though.”

Eddie backs up and Wayne pats his shoulder.

“Both of you should go get changed. Dinner’s ready in ten minutes.” Steve interrupts on his way to put Eddie’s camera bag in their room.

“Yes, dear,” Eddie replies. Steve turns and glares for a moment before continuing on his way. Once he’s out of sight, Eddie sighs. “God, I love that man.”

“That’s why I’m here, ain’t it?” Wayne playfully shoves at Eddie’s arm. “We better listen to him. I’m starvin’ and I think he’d make us fend for ourselves if we show up at the table dripping wet.”

As Wayne changes, he can hear Steve laughing in their room, Eddie talking about something he saw outside in the usual dramatic way he spoke. He thinks back to the first time he brought his boys here together, how hushed they tried to be, how hesitant.

He looked over at a photo Eddie framed for this room so Wayne had something when he came to stay.

Paul was smiling at the camera, arm wrapped around Eddie’s shoulders, Wayne looking at both of them with a smile. He remembers laughing right after the picture was taken, and giving in and buying them both cotton candy. They insisted it wouldn’t make them sick, then proceeded to both rush to the nearest garbage can after they got off the Gravitron at the fair.

“Wayne! Steve’s bullying me!” Eddie yells.

“You probably deserve it!” He yells back.

“Unbelievable!” Eddie screams.

“Ha!” Steve yells.

Wayne shakes his head as he makes his way out to the chaos he chose to be a part of this weekend.

[crushmeeren]

♡ Master List Link

♡ Bakugou/ Fem Reader/ Kirishima

♡ Everyone involved in this fic is aged up/18+.

♡ Warnings; reader is 6 months pregnant, cursing, pussy eating, blowjobs [ M/F — M/M ], vaginal sex

If you were to describe what it’s like to be six months pregnant with Katsuki’s baby, you would use a few key phrases.

1. — You’re in a perpetual cycle of unease and sporadic body aches.

2. — You’re consistently sweating like a whore in church.

3. — Your belly has been stretched to the point it looks as if a watermelon has been shoved inside.

These occur often, the only difference today is how infuriatingly much your lower back has been smarting. The baby’s weight is really starting to take a toll on you.

So you’ve decided it’s in your best interest to set up camp on the large fuzzy couch in your living room. You’re only wearing soft shorts and a large, worn out Red Riot T-shirt and you’ve stockpiled all the cozy blankets in the near vicinity.

It’d been a few hours since you became a couch potato, aimlessly scrolling through your phone and watching various movies or TV shows.

Katsuki’s been occupied playing some video game in the other room. Loudly enough to wake the dead, you might add. Your ears have been assaulted with his furious yelling on and off for the past couple hours.

He’s repeatedly told Todoroki that he’s the “worst player in existence” and to “fuck off and die.” You sincerely hope Todoroki is ribbing him just as much, but knowing the stoic man, he more than likely isn’t.

And much to your chagrin, Eijirou has been out on patrol all day.

Soft orange and yellow light has begun to cast shadows across the living room as the sun sets. You’re barely paying attention to a Tik Tok when your baby starts to poke and prod roughly at your ribs.

The fluttering sensation makes you squirm and sit up ram-rod straight. The sudden movement sends a bright flash of pain radiating throughout your lower back and it punches the breath from your lungs. The partially frantic instinct to call out to the blonde for help leaves your mouth before you can think twice.

“Kastukiiiii,” you whine for him loudly, a pleading lilt to your tone. You shift your weight, making sure to keep your feet perched on the large ottoman in front of you. You wait momentarily but only silence greets you.

“Katsuki!” You shout, mildly irritated. Your eyes widen and you inhale sharply when a tiny foot kicks you. You place a hand there and rub apologetically. Apparently she does not want you to yell. You roll your eyes and think that your daughter is certainly going to have Katsuki’s bad attitude.

“Baby, I heard you! I’m coming — just a second!” Katsuki snaps. You huff, cheeks puffing and burning when your temper flares a bit in response. You breathe deeply, resting both hands on your swollen stomach as the tiny feet continue to try and burst out of your skin like a scene from Alien.

Katsuki’s soft footsteps signal his approach and he rounds the corner into your living room leisurely. He comes to a stop next to your legs and your brows furrow when you gaze up at him with a slight pout. He arches one eyebrow in return and folds his arms over his chest, pointedly saying nothing.

“Kat, baby daddy, can you do the thing please? My back is killing me.”

Despite your discomfort you can’t help but appreciate his slender frame. His black sweats hang low on his hips and he’s fucking shirtless. He rolls his eyes when he catches you but wears a smug smirk nonetheless.

“Can your dramatic ass wait five minutes while I finish this round of my game? I’m obliterating Icy Hot.” His grin turns a bit feral and he cocks hip to one side, resting a hand there.

You protest accordingly and push your lower lip out.

“That’s too long! Can you do it later? Your baby needs you.” Over exaggerating your movements, you flop back against the couch and run your hands over your baby bump and stare up at him through your lashes. Katsuki snorts.

“It’s five minutes sweetheart. C’mon, Todoroki fucking sucks at this game,” Katsuki says with amusement, absently running a hand through his fluffy spikes of hair.

You press a hand to your forehead as if you might faint.

“You’re the reason I’m like this! The least you can do is help out your pregnant wife.”

“Oi!” He lets out a bark of laughter. “It takes two people to fuck and make a baby, I’m not the only guilty party. Why isn’t Eijirou gettin’ any fuckin’ blame for this huh? He was there too!”

Katsuki complains but it’s with considerable ease that he bends to your whim, shoving the ottoman closer and motioning for you to scoot up so he can get behind you on the couch.

“He’s not home right now,” you mutter childishly, heeding his instructions. The blonde crawls on to the cushions, maneuvering until he slots into the space between you and the backrest. He lets a thigh bracket you on each side and tugs you back into his chest, replying just as petulantly.

“Maybe you should’ve let Ei get you pregnant first then.”

“Oh god,” you start to whine. “Fuck baby, wanna see you swollen with my baby so bad. Blah blah — I’m Katsuki and I’m a giant fucking hypocrite,” you mock in a high pitched, horrific imitation of his voice.

To be fair he did whine those things to you and Eijirou in bed multiple times before you all finally agreed to it. Katsuki sputters behind you and pinches your thigh in retaliation.

“You’re such a fucking terror! I should make you wait until Eijirou gets home,” he growls, pathetic attempt at a threat making you giggle.

His palms are warm when he slips them under your shirt and places them on the underside of your belly, fingers spread. Katsuki delicately presses upwards and you deflate, melting into his chest. The immediate relief of pressure on your lower back makes you moan.

“Yeah, but we both know you won’t,” you reply smugly, hands coming to rest on his. He hums, electing not to respond with words because he knows he’s wrapped around your finger.

Katsuki can deny it all he pleases, but the man loves holding your belly. He’s struck with awe each time he’s lucky enough to feel his daughter kicking. He kisses the back of your head, relaxing into the couch for the time being.

You both turn your attention to the movie you had playing earlier and your eyelids start to flutter. Your chest is gooey and warm, you’re basically a fresh baked chocolate chip cookie in his arms.

Katsuki gets invested in one scene in particular, making snarky comments about the graphics and your daughter apparently recognizes her daddy’s voice, because suddenly she’s playing kick ball again.

Directly into Katsuki’s hands.

“Holy shit!” The blonde jolts, freezing temporarily before pressing the pads of his fingertips into the same spot, attempting to coax her into kicking him again. His heart thumps hard on your back, the heat from his chest bleeding through your shirt.

“She’s been really active today, but she must’ve heard her daddy talking. I think she likes your voice Kat.” You smile softly, adjusting your weight to get more comfortable. “I hope she does the same when Ei gets home, he was sad last time he missed it.” You tip your head back on Katsuki’s shoulder, twisting your neck to get a peak at his face.

“She’s fucking fiesty,” he says with no small amount of pride. She’ll respond to Ei, she loves him.” A tender smile softens his sharp features and your chest cracks with overflowing adoration. Surging forward you brush your lips over his jaw and Katsuki makes a quiet noise of surprise.

“I love you too,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. You hum contentedly and Katsuki goes back to holding up your belly.

A familiar vibration pattern breaks the atmosphere and buzzes near your leg. You pick up your phone, taking note that it’s a message from Eijirou and your face lights up.

“Ei messaged that he’s gonna be home soon,” you tell Katsuki eagerly. You can’t help the excitement fluttering in your belly when you think about getting to see the red head soon.

“Bout damn time, my arms are gonna fall off,” he teases, tickling the smooth skin of your belly with calloused thumbs and you laugh.

“Alright dickwad get out from behind me.” Katsuki pokes your ribs in retaliation, ripping a squeal from you and you wiggle in his grip. “You’re lucky I can’t get up quickly right now! I’d kick your ass, you shitty excuse for a bomb!”

Katsuki halts his movements and gasps dramatically in fake offense, squeezing his arms around your shoulders.

“Shitty excuse for a bomb??” He asks incredulously, accidentally chuckling at the end of his sentence. You nod once and he hugs you tight, planting several chaste kisses on your cheek. You laugh delightedly and turn your head briefly to snag his plush lips with your own.

The sound of your front door opening gets you to break apart, both turning your heads to see Eijirou waltz in. The smile he wears is as vibrant as the sun, all his razor edged teeth on display.

“Aww! What a sweet sight to come home too!” Eijirou chirps, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “So cute! All three of my babies snuggling on the couch together,” he coos and strides closer until he’s right by your side.

Eijirou’s dressed in street clothes. He’s got on dark gray sweats, a red tee and a white bandana tied around his head. Per usual, his arms may bust out of the shirt he’s wearing but it’s unbearably hot.

“Get lost on the way home red?” Katsuki taunts. The blonde lets go of your shoulders as you strain to get out of his hold. Katsuki gently pushes you to sit up straight with a supporting hand between your shoulder blades. Eijirou rolls his eyes playfully and shoves the ottoman out of the way to make space for himself between your legs.

“No, I’m actually home earlier than I thought I would be,” he replies, dropping to kneel in front of you. Katsuki takes the opportunity to slip out from behind you and sit next to you instead. You use a lot of willpower to keep a straight face when you speak next.

“Thank God, because apparently Katsuki isn’t strong enough to hold our 5lb baby without his arms falling off.”

You can make out the sound of Katsuki’s teeth grinding together as Eijirou’s bright laughter dances in the air. You’re poking the bear but it’s a breeze to rile up the blonde.

“Is that so?” Eijirou asks, eyes twinkling as he pretends to appear thoughtful when he turns to Katsuki.

“I can hold a fucking five pound baby!” Katsuki snarls harmlessly, yet he throws his hands up in the air. You choke on the swell of laughter that builds in your throat. Eijirou snickers and pushes the red riot T-shirt you’re wearing up to expose your baby bump.

“I know Kat, just teasing,” you placate, sending him your sweetest smile. Eijirou splays his hands on the sides of your belly and you tangle your fingers in his hair.

The blonde scowls but he can’t keep it up for long before he breaks, scoffing with a smile threatening to take over his lips.

“How’s she been today?” Eijirou questions you then, nuzzling his nose over the top of your belly.

“She’s a spitfire.” Katsuki’s chest puffs out a bit.

“So just like her daddy then?” Eijirou teases, brushing his lips over your belly in a sweet kiss. Katsuki’s smirks.

“Hell yeah she is.”

“She’s been moving a lot today Ei, Kat’s just happy she kicked the shit out of him earlier,” you explain, scratching the red head’s scalp. Eijirou hums, tracing the pattern of a heart into your stomach with his thumbs.

“Hi feisty girl, papa Ei is home,” he purrs. “I heard you were trying to kick box with your daddy today. You’re gonna be just like him,” he whispers, the affection effortlessly falling off his tongue. The red head’s eyes flutter closed, resting his forehead against you.

You jerk in surprise when Eijirou’s head suddenly shoots up, narrowly avoiding head butting the shit out of you. He stares at your belly with bright eyes. Your baby just kicked where his forehead had been. He looks up, gaze tracking between you and Katsuki with stars in his eyes as he vibrates with excitement.

“Did you feel that baby? Oh my god! Kat, she heard me!” The red head yells, almost tripping over his words. His cheeks are dusted with a pale pink and your own twinge from smiling so wide. You tug on the soft strands of his hair you have tangled between your fingers.

“Dammit Eijirou,” Katsuki chimes in, crossing his arms. “Stop being so-,” he pauses, looking for the right words. “So fucking cute!” You laugh when the blonde curls his lip, the man’s flushed to the tips of his cute pink ears. A sly expression immediately takes over Eijirou’s face.

He slips your shirt back down and you free his hair from your grip. You meet him halfway when he leans up to give you a chaste kiss.

The red head shuffles on his knees until he’s between Katsuki’s thighs. He leans in, locking his arms around the blonde’s waist and wiggling his eyebrows up at him. Katsuki’s eyes narrow but he places his elbows on Eijirou’s shoulders.

Your toes curl into the plush rug below when the red head smoothes his hands up and down Katsuki’s sides, a shiver wracking through the blonde before Eijirou squishes his face into the others’s chest and hugs him tight.

“Eijirou.” The name spills out of Katsuki breathlessly.

“You’re so sweet Katsuki. I think you’re cute too,” he says, words muffled by a bare chest. Heat crawls up your neck when the blonde tugs Eijirou close and mumbles “I love you,” under his breath. Seeing them like this sets your nerves alight, even with something as simple as hugging.

The moment is picturesque until a pang of hunger rolls around inside you. Placing a hand on the underside of your belly, you worry at your bottom lip. You don’t want to break up the tender scene, but it seems your daughter is hungry.

“I hate to burst the bubble, but our daughter is starving,” you say gently, grinning when they part. Eijirou kisses Katsuki sweetly, making a loud smooching sound when he pulls away. Katsuki makes a disgusted noise and pushes playfully at the red head’s shoulder when they both rise from their spots. “Will you make something Kat?” You ask hopefully.

“I swear you and Eijirou are like bottomless fucking pits,” he grumbles, turning and padding to the kitchen.

He’s not fooling anyone, you all know he loves cooking for you. Especially now that your daughter is almost here. He expresses his love through his food and you all reap the rewards.

You share a smile with Eijirou and the large man flops down onto the couch, trying not to jostle you.

“Thanks Kat!” You call at his retreating back and he throws a hand up over his shoulder in response.

“Sooo, can I hold your belly now?” Eijirou asks impatiently. He doesn’t wait for you answer, maneuvering until he’s lying on the armrest, legs splayed open wide for you.

“You don’t have to ask me twice. She definitely has been missing her papa.” You grab your discarded blanket from the couch, sliding back into his embrace. You pull your blanket up to your chest, covering you both and Eijirou teases his fingers underneath your shirt.

“I love your shirt, pretty girl,” he whispers sweet like honey in your ear, gingerly touch his lips to your throat. The combination sends a warm tingle down your spine. He yanks a tiny shocked moan from you when he bites your shoulder and lifts your belly simultaneously.

“Jesus Eijirou,” you breathe, weaving your fingers together. The simmering warmth pooling in your belly is becoming difficult to ignore. “Are you trying to fuck me on the couch?” You shift back and a half hard cock greets you. Fuck, you’d be a damn liar if you said that didn’t turn you on. His light exhale tickles your neck.

“Maybe,” he says coyly, hitching his hips upwards to rub his cock over your lower back. You pinch his thigh and he groans, forehead dropping to your shoulder. “I can’t help it,” Eijirou whines, continuing to lift your belly. “You’re so sweet and so warm like this, I want you.”

“After we eat Ei, I promise. Kat will be up for it,” you murmur, trailing your fingers over his forearm. Eijirou sighs but reluctantly he agrees.

After you ate, it took no time at all for the blonde to usher you and Eijirou into the bedroom.

Since then you’ve been stripped bare, elbows supporting your weight on the short wooden headboard behind you. They ache a bit where the sharp edge digs into the inner joint of it.

Katsuki’s head is caged between your thighs, knees sinking into the memory foam mattress below. His scratchy stubble tickles your skin while he buries his face in your pussy, head shifting from side to side.

You’ve opted to sit reverse cowgirl on his face so you’re privy to the front row view of Eijirou swallowing down Katsuki’s cock like he’s starving.

“Fffuck Kat,” you whine, rolling your hips and gliding your pussy over his plush lips. Katsuki moans, snaking his arms around your thighs and yanking you further down so he can dip the tip of his tongue inside you.

Your head tilts towards the ceiling, eyes fluttering and fingers curling into fists as Kastuki pushes his tongue to your clit, swirling it restlessly. The background is filled with the lewd schlick noise of Eijirou sucking cock.

Katsuki moves his lips from side to side over your clit before once again licking firm strokes and your head snaps back up with a gasp.

You’re starting to squirm, heat pooling in your cheeks as he works you closer to the edge. A prickle of warmth pulses through your pelvis when you lock eyes with Eijirou.

No man should look so pretty with a dick in their mouth. His cheeks are candy apple red and his lips are stretched tight around Katsuki. He seems quite comfortable, snugly fit between the blonde’s thighs and meeting Katsuki thrust for shallow thrust while the blonde leisurely fucks his mouth.

Eijirou sends a wink your way and you’re gawking at him when Katsuki sucks harshly on your clit, wrenching your attention back to his mouth. A let out a yelp and your thighs twitch when he does it once more, demanding your focus stay on him.

Try as you might you’re torn between Katsuki’s warm tongue working you over and the indecent sight of Eijirou.

You’re impatient and desperate to change positions before someone cums too quickly and so you plead for the attention of the man underneath you.

“Katsuki,” you moan, fingers circling his wrists. “Wanna switch baby, please.” He drags his teeth delicately over your clit and your breath stutters in your chest. Katsuki unwinds himself from your legs, pushing against your ass instead of tugging on you and you lift your hips from his face.

Eijirou pulls off with a pop, Katsuki’s thick cock slapping against his lower belly. The red head sits up on his knees, gripping the base of his own neglected desire and pushes back the messy strands of hair that had fallen into his eyes.

Katsuki slips out from under you, sitting between the two of you so you’re able to sit comfortably on your calves.

“Whaddaya want pretty girl? Ei and I will give you whatever you need,” Katsuki purrs, half a smirk tugging at his lips. The red head makes a noise of agreement and waits patiently for your answer. A flush creeps up your neck under the weight of their gaze and you absentmindedly rest a hand on your belly.

“I think I want Ei to position us however he wants. Ya know, since he’s been trying to get us in bed ever since he got home.” You grin playfully at Eijirou when he makes a noise of protest, a pink blush dusting over his cheekbones. Katsuki snickers nearby.

“Oh,” Eijirou breathes, grinning sheepishly and rubbing a hand over his forearm. “Well, I mean — yeah. Yes, totally I can do that.”

Katsuki snorts, waving a vague hand in front of himself when Eijirou takes too long to respond.

“Well? You goin’ to fuckin’ move us around or not?” Katsuki asks rudely. Eijirou ignores him, rolling his jaw a couple times before biting into his bottom lip. You punch Katsuki in the shoulder and give him a pointed look but he just rolls his eyes.

“Okay baby, c’mere please,” he requests warmly, reaching a hand out to you. You comply, gripping his fingers as he helps you shuffle forward on your knees. Once you get to him, he helps you twist until your back faces the edge of the bed.

He holds both hands, slowly reclining you until you’re flat on your back and your head dangles off the edge of the mattress. Your heart rate spikes when you’re slightly suffocated by your baby bump, but it’s comfortable enough for what you’re sure Eijirou has in mind.

“Okay Katsuki, go stand near her head. I want watch you fuck her throat while I’m inside her,” he commands shyly, flush traveling down his chest as he traps the tip of his tongue between his teeth. He takes his place between your spread thighs. Katsuki starts to heft himself off the bed, closing the distance between you with a few steps.

“Didn’t feel like gettin’ your ass torn up today Eijirou?” Katsuki’s grins with his teeth, cockiness seeping from him.

“Shut up,” Eijirou mumbles, helping you bend your knees and plant your feet. You try to stifle your laughter with a hand over your mouth but it spills out of you despite your best effort.

To be fair, Eijirou does melt into a drooling fucked out mess in the sheets every time he bottoms for the other man.

Katsuki comes to a standstill just in front of your head, reaching down to cradle the back of your skull and force you to look up at him. His flushed cock grazes your cheek and you suck your bottom lip behind your teeth when you finally make eye contact.

“You okay with this sweetheart?” Katsuki’s gaze is intense, the thumb of his free hand swiping over your brow bone. Your throat clicks when you swallow and you nod, fighting the urge to shift your head and kiss his shaft.

“I’ll be fine Kat, if it’s too much I’ll tap your thigh twice.” You reach backwards and secure your arms around the backs of his legs for emphasis.

“So fuckin’ pretty and smart baby girl,” Katsuki coos, voice a rumble in his throat and his praise makes your blood sing. He grips the base of his cock and shifts forward to rub his head over your lips. Your tongue darts out involuntarily to taste him and a salty tang bursts across your taste buds.

“Ei!” You gasp, startling when the red head’s thumb presses into your swollen clit, circling it slowly. You start to squirm and sink your nails into Katsuki’s thighs as your eyes squeeze shut. “C’mon Ei, stop teasing and fuck me.” Eijirou giggles.

“Okay okay. You’re so needy tonight, I love it,” Eijirou gushes. The blunt head of his cock pokes at your clit before sliding down, a steady pressure against your lips before he pushes inside. You cry out sharply, hanging onto Katsuki for dear life while Eijirou’s thick cock stretches you to the max.

“Fuck yeah, that’s it. That tight little pussy loves Eijirou, doesn’t she?” Katsuki says breathlessly, moaning softly as he strokes his cock. “He’s so big, isn’t he baby? Feels good huh?”

You can only nod, jaw going slack and eyes rolling back when Eijirou bottoms out with a choked off moan. Pleasure blisters through you when he draws his hips back and thrusts forward roughly.

“Oh my god. You’re a dream baby,” Eijirou whines, settling one hand on your knee and the other on your baby bump. Your vision is obscured by Katsuki’s thighs but Eijirou’s praise burns in your brain.

“Jesus Christ,” Katsuki snarls, tapping your cheek twice. “Open up for me princess.” Your lips part obediently and Katsuki braces a knee of the bed, the other leg standing firm. His groin tightens in anticipation at the sight of you flushed and pliant.

He squeezes one of your tits and tilts his hips down to guide his cock inside and he glides smoothly along your soft pallet. You close your lips and suck tentatively until he jerks forward and smacks the back of your throat, breath catching in his chest.

Eijirou starts to pick up the pace, the obscenity in front of him spurring on his own desire and he hits your g-spot with scary precision. Your resulting moan is muffled by the cock in your mouth as Katsuki fucks your throat and Eijirou begins babbling encouragingly.

“Oh — shit, right there yeah baby? Feels too good, I can’t believe how tight you are. You’re gorgeous like this sweetheart, you love when I tell you how pretty you are don’t you?”

His voice is fuzzy to your ears, the prominent ache in your jaw coming to the forefront. Katsuki’s paying attention, however and taunts him even if the sweet words make his cock twitch.

“God Ei, you just can’t stop yappin’ can you?”

Eijirou whines pitifully, rolling his hips a bit more leisurely to savor the pleasure.

“I can’t help it.”

“Fuck — I’m, it’s gonna make me cum. You want me to cum for you princess?” Katsuki pulls his cock free and you gulp down air, coughing and sputtering briefly.

“Yeah, yeah. Kat c’mon,” you croak, fingers tingling as you bring them up to fist the blanket below you. Eijirou’s moving at a snail’s pace now, stilling inside you to watch the show.

Katsuki runs with it, hooking his thumb along the teeth of your bottom jaw and prying it open. His cock is shoved to the back of your throat and past the unforgiving ring of muscle there. The sensation makes your throat tickle with the urge to cough.

He stays in place long enough for your pulse to thunder before exhaling shakily and dragging himself out of your mouth. He jerks his cock until he’s cumming with a cry and streaking your chest and belly with his release.

It’s still for a moment once he relaxes. The air is warm from all the movement and the only sounds are of the three of you catching your breath before Eijirou laughs incredulously.

“That was hot.” Eijirou is beaming as he slides his still completely stiff cock from your pussy and you protest half heartedly, the other two snickering. Katsuki locks eyes with you, his cheeks rose petal pink and sweat trails down his temple.

“You good?”

You nod as Eijirou grips your ankles and pulls you bodily onto the bed, your neck tingling when the blood rushes from your head.

“More than good. I do want to switch positions though, the baby is suffocating me like this,” you joke. Eijirou pats your thighs encouragingly and smiles vibrantly.

“Sure thing! You want Kat to hold you baby?”

“Please.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes playfully and shimmies up the bed to the headboard. He pauses near Eijirou, planting a kiss to his lips and turning to settle in his new place. Katsuki tilts his head and smirks coyly at you.

“Move your ass pillow princess.” He bends his knees and digs his heels into the mattress. You ignore Katsuki for the moment and take Eijirou’s offered hand. He helps you rise to your knees and shuffle until you can twist and recline against Katsuki’s chest.

He’s covered in sweat, but he’s so warm and a sense of comfort spreads through your limbs. You glance down at yourself and notice you’re still covered in Katsuki’s cum, nose scrunching in disgust but not bothering to wipe it away yet.

Katsuki runs his hands up and down your upper arms and tenderly wraps them around your shoulders, resting his temple on yours. You brace your hands on his knees and then Eijirou is there taking up your attention.

He inches forward and sits on his calves, snugly fitting between your thighs and he lifts his eyebrows in question. You hum softly and encourage him forward with a tug to his wrist.

He pushes at the delicate skin over your inner thighs to coax you open for him. You do so without hesitation and instantly Eijirou’s steadying himself and slipping back into you with a smooth glide.

“Eijirou,” you moan between your teeth, head tipping backwards onto Katsuki’s shoulder. You clench around him and he whimpers, pitching forward and resting his hands on your belly. Katsuki leers from behind you, muttering like the devil on your shoulder.

“Thought you were big and strong Ei. You can make her little pussy cum can’t you, red riot?”

Eijirou’s brows knit together and he nods vigorously, picking up a steady rhythm that you can feel in your toes. You bite the tip of your tongue and dig your nails into Katsuki’s knees.

“Y — Yeah, I’ll make her feel so good, I’ll make her cum Katsuki.”

Katsuki grins wolfishly.

“Good boy Eijirou.”

Your husband wears a dumbstruck expression, cherry red eyes falling shut and breathy moans mixing with yours as he snaps his hips briskly.

“E-Eijirou! Just like that, please don’t stop, I’m gonna cum!”

He obeys and the volume of your pleas rise and your voice cracks when Eijirou’s movements become the slightest bit harsher. The red head splays his large palms even wider over your belly and uses the angle to his advantage, pressing upwards with each thrust.

Katsuki squeezes your shoulders and whispers sweet nothings in your ear, nosing at your cheek while your climax swells rapidly behind your belly button.

“Doing so well baby, you take him like a fuckin’ champ,” Katsuki says huskily. “Looks like Ei’s gonna fuck another baby into you, isn’t that right?”

Eijirou absently replies with a whiny mhmm, eyes glued to where his cock disappears inside you. You stare at Eijirou’s flushed face, his lids heavy and jaw hanging open in concentration and then the knot in your pelvis is unraveling.

You inhale sharply, thighs tensing and your own mouth opens in a silent scream as your pussy flutters before clenching tightly on the cock splitting you open.

Eijirou groans, placing his forehead on yours and works you through it like he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to.

After a few brain melting seconds your muscles loosen, a low moan creeping its way out of your throat.

“Fuck baby,” Eijirou pants, cock twitching. “Love it when you cum on my cock like that, I’m not gonna last much longer.”

“Give it to me Ei, I’ve got you baby.”

With that, and a few filthy words from Katsuki, Eijirou is shoving his dick all the way inside you to the root. The curly black hair at his base brushes your clit and he’s cumming.

He gasps your name, hands shifting to white knuckle your shoulders as you frame his face with your palms. His cock kicks inside you a few times before he’s melting onto you, listening to your whispered words of praise as his chest heaves.

You all stay still for a brief moment as the post sex haze falls over you and Eijirou decides then to gingerly slip out of your pussy, shifting to lay down beside you like a starfish instead.

There’s a gentle pressure on your back and you lean forward so Katsuki can slide out from behind you. You take his place, pillows supporting your lower back and feeling icky from all the cum on you and inside you.

“Someone please get me a towel.”

Eijirou laughs but Katsuki just hands you a a discarded T-shirt, nose scrunching up.

“Here.”

You take it gratefully, wiping off the drying cum from your belly and handing it to Eijirou. He helps clean any place you can’t reach before balling it up and tossing it like a basketball into the dirty laundry basket. He misses. Katsuki glares at him and points in that direction, lip curling.

“You’re picking that shit up.”

You snicker and Eijirou grins good-naturedly, teasing the blonde until Katsuki’s teeth are grinding together.

Eventually you’re able to convince Katsuki to cook you both more food. He complains about it vehemently but ultimately pulls shorts on and stomps out of the room and to the kitchen.

You smile with amusement and gaze softly at Eijirou as he tugs on old sweats.

“Ya know he’s gonna blow a hole in the wall if you keep messing with him,” you say, awkwardly climbing off the bed and accepting the shorts and shirt Eijirou places in your hands.

“He just makes it too easy to rile him up.”

You can’t help but agree with that, grinning when Eijirou laces your fingers together and leads you to the kitchen.

The three of you relax together for the rest of the evening, both men taking turns reading to your baby and fawning over your belly.

You’re on your toes with anticipation to see how they behave when she’s here. You’re certain they’ll be amazing fathers.

Then, in a couple years, you’ll let Eijirou get you pregnant. You smile softly to yourself, because you’re one hundred percent sure your back will ache carrying his giant baby.

[amourdivine]

୨ ♡ ୧ WHO IS HAUNTED BY YOU? PAC  ઉ

Hello lovelies, welcome to another pick a card for my Halloween special 👻 This is a reading about who is haunted by you. I hope you enjoy! Feedback is highly appreciated. If you liked this reading, please consider tipping me at @ amourdivinetarot@gmail.comvia paypal! xo ♡

☁️ ˚ QUICKLINKS . ༉ ‧

INSTAGRAM ୭ YOUTUBE ୭ MASTERLIST ୭ PAYHIP

›    none of the images are mine unless stated otherwise. ›    personal readings are closed.

HOW TO CHOOSE YOUR PILE.  take a few deep breaths and look at each picture separately. see which one brings you to a feeling, a place or a memory. take your time and feel free to come back to it later!

pile one.

the devil, knight of swords, eight of wands

This is a person in a relationship, someone who is not happy with where they are. It seems they're tied to something or someone, perhaps this is a relationship they feel tied to and currently see no way out of. It can be a friend, a co-worker... even a boss. Being with you would bring out certain societal implications they're not prepared for. This person is running from their attraction towards you, but it's very hard to resist you.

They may find themselves glancing at your pictures, social media or typing out texts and deleting them. I wrote 'hands' instead of 'wands' by accident at the beginning of your pile, so there's a big likelihood that they cannot keep their hands to themselves when they see or think of you. If you notice this person is extra fidgety or touchy around you, it's because they get a thrill out of it. The forbidden aspect of it both pains and excites them. To be honest, I don't see them getting out of this toxic relationship anytime soon, so do not expect much. Regardless, you set this person on fire.

channeled words and messages: meme, dm's, sneaky link, ride or die, lana del rey, freak, toxic masculinity, therapy, curse, silence ring, marriage, engagement.

pile two.

wheel of fortune, the moon, knight of pentacles

You probably don't know this person that well. This may be someone you've come across on multiple occasions in an unexpected way, but couldn't talk to all that much. Someone who's in your class or a new co-worker... maybe a friendly, quiet neighbor or a friend of a friend. You've made quite a lasting impression on this person and they want to get to know you. They may have had dreams with you, something which confused them and deeply troubled them. How is it possible to feel like you know someone and not know them at all?

They may have tried to avoid you, with no success. Currently, they're trying to figure out a way to approach you without looking crazy. They seem shy, a bit anxious as well. This person may be asking their friends for help on how to talk to you, they may have tried to find a common hobby or class so they can increase their chances of being around you.

channeled words and messages: social anxiety, history class, college, sage green, leather couch, autumn, latte, late for class, "sorry i bumped into you", "i'm so nervous".

pile three.

the emperor, ace of swords, eight of wands

A very proud person (lol). You could be involved romantically with this person to some degree. If not romantically, at least physically. This person doesn't want to admit they caught feelings for you, so they're trying to be cold and rational, hoping that the intensity of their desire for you wears off. They're not used to being genuinely interested in a person. They're not used to wanting to talk to someone.

You excite this person's mind, you pique their interest. You may have stood up to them in some way, or you could have said something that lingered in their mind. You have challenged them and though it irks them that someone had the audacity to do so, they're quite impressed with your charm, your witty attitude. Although we have the Eight of Wands which typically suggests physical attraction, I can't help but feel this person is interested you beyond your body and looks.

channeled words and messages: 888, lawyer, entj, intj, sapiosexual, bookshelf, simone de beauvoir, feminism, jane austen, introvert, "i don't like people", pride, leo, respect.

pile four.

strength, two of cups, knight of wands

The person who is haunted by you is someone you're also haunted by (hehe). The feelings, attraction and relationship is mutual. It is balanced and fair. For some, this is a friend you have yet to confess to. For others, this is a crush you're not sure likes you back. Either way, this is your confirmation that this person does like you and does want you.

I'm getting a "first love" feeling. It could be both or one of you is too shy to tell the other, maybe you're scared of rejection or ruining what you already have. However, it's quite obvious to the people around you that you should be together. It seems a step of bravery is required in order to be with one another, because the love, the respect and companionship is already there. This relationship is already built on a good foundation, so trust that you can hold this person's hand and they will not let go. I'm very happy for you, pile four!

channeled words and messages: childhood best friend, painting, high school, pop songs, spotify, shared playlist, inside jokes, heather, jokester, austin, teasing, "between the lines", slow burn, skinny love.

amourdivine. © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.

DISCLAIMER. tarot is a divination tool, it’s not a substitute for medical and professional advice, nor is it meant to be taken as such. i don’t take responsibility for any choice(s) made by you or others regarding my readings. be mindful ♡

[atalldrinkofcaprisun]

Don’t Wait For Me After I’m Gone (pt. 2)

silco x gn!reader - he didn’t die AU - tw: canon compliant violence, drug use - 18+

howdy!!! reposted and edited again! I’m having trouble with all of the links so sorry they’re not super functional right now. But anyways, I MISS MY WIFE TAILS!!

also on ao3 xx masterlist

The screaming was the worst part. You had been posted outside of The Doctor’s underground laboratory/cave for three hours now, under the orders not to enter unless you wanted to be sedated until the procedure was over.

When the Scientist arrived at the factory, he had started work immediately. The bullets nimbly extracted and quickly stitched, his hand feebly squeezing your own when he could. You had pressed kisses to his damp temples and pushed hair out of his face, back into his rumpled style. He’d even notice sometimes but it was clear he was in agony.

“It is good you kept that with you,” The Doctor nodded his head towards the injector lying cracked on the floor towards the far wall. You had thrown it off as soon as it had emptied, “He would have been unreachable if you had not administered the medicinal serum. It gave him just enough to hold on.”

“So, he’s going to be okay?” You asked, trying to give that little flame of hope in your chest something to fuel itself.

“He will survive, yes. Survival at least.” the bandaged man replied cryptically before returning his full attention to Silco, “I suggest making plans to move him to safety. Your opponents will be hunting for you soon if they haven’t started already.” He’d put a hand on your shoulder, “I know where they will not find you.”

Shortly afterwards, you had sprinted all the way back to The Last Drop. Exhausted and shaking, you’d only managed a stammering, “Silco. He’s- the warehouse…” before promptly passing out into Ran’s arms. You’d woken up in your bed, apparently you had only been out about 20 minutes.

Now, here you stood, arms crossed and leaning against a rough stone wall. Your nails dug into your skin, trying to center yourself. You couldn’t leave, not when he was in pain. Jinx had been permitted in. Whatever had transpired between Jinx and The Doctor had created a new trust. You had wanted to protest but when Jinx set Silco down on the examination table and sat quietly in a chair in the corner, her eyes not moving from Silco, you had surrendered. Jinx needed to know her father wasn’t going to be one more thing to haunt her. You could keep watch this time.

Sevika was elsewhere getting her arm fixed once again, and keeping all of the intelligence open for signs of what had been happening in Piltover. She’d headed back to The Drop. Running Zaun directly or alone had never been something you wanted. Especially now, with the love of your life still in danger of being lost forever, and your child being the cause on top of whatever had been done to her-

There came another string of rambles, ranging from terror to agony to anger. Occasionally you would hear The Doctor muttering. You could feel the wave of emotions settle between your shoulders, winding up the muscles like snakes tensing to bite. You needed a distraction.

Threats were going to be coming from all sides. Jinx had officially crossed the carefully toed line of impertinent interference that Silco had perfected. You didn’t know what the aftermath of the missile had been, and it didn’t take a genius to guess. A part of you didn’t care. Fuck the Topsiders for needing to be brought to the battlefield. Still, you couldn’t ignore the stiffness setting in your arms and neck, your hands clenched into fists as tears began to resurface.

Another moan of pain, this one low and mournful… your name again. You covered your ears and tried to fight the urge to bust through the door.

Fuck it. You’d rather be sedated then hear one more second of this without being able to help. Hands flew to the door handle of their own accord, but were met with the empty air as the door opened first.

Jinx’s pink eyes bore into your own, flat, “Doc say you can come in. Apparently he’s though the worst. Dad’ll- be okay.” She sounded completely drained.

You gathered Jinx in a tight hug, wanting to offer any sort of comfort you could, “He’s going to understand. We’ve been so worried about you, Blue.”

“I killed him.” She mumbled into your shoulder, “I almost-”

“But you didn’t,” you pulled back to look in her eyes, your hands pushing her bangs off of her forehead to finally get a good look. She was so pale now, worse than before, almost spectral. Her freckles and dark makeup only making her appear more sickly, she was smeared with dirt and blood and crusted tears. Her eyes weren’t glowing anymore, but their pale blue had been consumed by the eery magenta of Shimmer. “He knows how much you’re struggling. He isn’t dead. It was an accident. He knows that.”

Jinx didn’t look convinced, only lifting your arms off of her and pushing past into the fissures beyond, “I just need to be alone.“ She turned before she crossed behind the faint lantern glow, “You know where to find me,” and then she was gone.

You waited, letting the compulsion to run after her and comfort her dissolve for a later time. If anything would be able to get through to Jinx it would be Silco himself. In order for him to get the chance, however, you needed to make sure Silco would stay alive. Jinx was smart, and knew when and how to lay low. She would be alright for a few hours. With a deep breath and you headed into the attached cavern.

“Doctor, Is he-“ your gaze mimed fixated on the disheveled and miserable man strapped to the gurney. At the sound of your voice Silco’s eyes landed on you, relief washing over his expression the moment he processed what he was seeing. “Thank Jannah, Sil,” you sighed, stepping and crossing the space. Your hand fell into his, fitting perfectly into his palm, warm and alive and responsive. With a smile you took your free hand and pushed the strands of charcoal and ash hair out of his face, “Hey there, handsome.” You beamed.

The once bright orange iris, now matching his daughter’s pink hue, was scanning along your features, relief washing over the face you had come to love more than you had ever thought possible. His pale blue eye was just as intently looking at you, but his eyelid hung heavy with exhaustion, “What’s a creature like you,” his voice was strained and low, rumbling out of his chest more than his throat, “doing in a place like this?”

Your mind played the first time he had said that to you as you grinned, “That line is still too cheesy to work.”

“Better than the look you gave me when I said it then.” He hummed as your hand moved from his hair to brush his cheek, “Did I ever tell you it was Jinx’s idea?”

“To try and hit on me after saving my life or?” You laughed lightly.

“To tell you,” he wheezed for a second as a flare of purple raced up his skin and into his damaged iris, “ah, how pretty you looked.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek and the pain seemed to become just a little less.

“So you settled on calling me a creature?” You scoffed teasingly.

“Is now the time for such, frivolous things?” The Doctor’s tone was annoyed as he cut in. He started undoing the straps holding Silco down, and he motioned for you to help him.

You looked at the scientist with one brow raised as Silco sighed, “I’ve nearly died today. It makes a man think about things… differently,” his gaze didn’t move from your face, like he was studying it for the first time. You were used to his staring habit, but this felt different. Maybe it was the drugs, “so beautiful,” he muttered so low, he probably hadn’t even noticed he’d said it.

“Shut up, old man,” you smiled, “Save your breath.”

The Doctor moved to your side of the table, batting you away as he began to unstrap his arm and head. Which was only fair since you hadn’t even started to undo the buckle. Your hand slipped away from Silco’s and you immediately missed the feeling. The anxiety that boiled in your stomach was vicious and your skin seemed to itch with the need to continue to make sure Silco was truly alive and real, on the mend and going to survive. Once the kingpin was free, the Doctor took his pulse, then gently helped him rise to a sitting position. His face contorted with the pain but eased as he breathed through it. At last, Doc looked towards you and nodded, giving his permission, you could fully take in your paramour.

Silco’s left arm was protectively hugged around his bandage wrapped torso, his smoldering eye still pulsing pink as was it’s seafoam counterpart. His hair was haphazard and his makeup smeared away long ago, the ashen skin of his scar visible in large smudges. You wrapped your arms around him as gently as you could manage, still causing him to hiss ever so slightly. His heartbeat thumped away under your ear, protected in his rib cage, fast and a little irregular. His smell was tainted with blood and sweat but it was still him. His free arm pulled you closer, his nose resting on top of your head. Together you breathed. Just for a moment that to you, felt like the exact eternity you needed to find your voice.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

He chuckled deep in his chest, “I promise to try and not make it a habit, my lovely.”

You only burrowed further into his arms in reply. Your home was here. Safely by Silco’s side, in his arms, breathing and basking in the gift of having more time. Just as the tension had begun to ease from your shoulders Silco spoke again, “Where is Jinx? Is she alright?”

You met his gaze, “She’s… upset. She didn’t mean to kill you. I think she’s headed back to her lab. I wanted to go with her but…”

“But you needed to make sure I would be alright first.” He gently finished and ran a hand through your hair, “Thank you for saving me. Now we’re officially even.” He let his fingertips stroke your cheek, “We need to get to Jinx. I need to tell her I forgive her.”

“You won’t be able to walk on your own yet, old friend.” The Doctor spoke up again from his desk across the room, apparently he had returned to his more important projects, “Your body is still processing the serum. You don’t have your daughter’s vitality.”

Silco frowned over at the old scientist, “I think I can manage. And anyways,” he looked down at you, “I won’t be alone.”

You nodded, and stepped out of his embrace to help him down and onto his feet. As he touched the stone floor however, his legs seemed to buckle and he fell onto you heavily with a grunt of pain. You caught him and let him get his grip on the edge of the gurney. His teeth grinding as he pulled himself upwards, “Sil? Are you-?”

“It’s fine.” The ever stubborn Eye of Zaun commanded. The Doctor and you shared a quick look.

You knew he was lying but he had more pressing concerns than his own comfort at the moment, “Can you?” he gestured vaguely around himself. Asking for help was still not something he was completely comfortable with, but you knew what he meant.

You shifted around him, so one of your arms was around his midsection, the other was holding his hand as his own arm swept over your shoulders. Jinx’s Lab and The Last Drop were a bit of a walk away. The Doctor, grumbling all the while, retrieved a cane from some depths of his caverns and gave you what doses Silco might need if he took a sudden turn. With measured steps you began to lead Silco to the door. Just before you crossed the threshold, Silco tugged and stopped, “Thank you, Doctor. My family owes you a great debt.”

A stiff and matter of fact “I know.” was the only reply he received.

Silco pressed a kiss to your temple and together you set off.

[theother-victoria]

all hearts as one beneath the sun

SYNOPSIS: before kakavasha dissolves into the nihility, there is one hope he has to let go of. may you meet again in a kinder world and under a warm sun.

CHARACTERS: kakavasha, aventurine, dr ratio, aventurine's family, sunday

TAGS: angst, no comfort, established relationship, mentions of suicide, 4k+ wc

TAGLIST: @mitsvriii, @harque, @hazyue, @gabile18, @khoncore, @moineauz

NOTES: sobbed to "had I not seen the sun" the entire time I was writing this I love making myself cry w my own work

special thanks to @akutasoda, @tragedy-of-commons, and @https-sourlimes for proofreading this! love u all <33

link to the playlist

Aventurine was mildly surprised when he received word that he would be handling the Penacony mission. Why him, of all the Ten Stonehearts? Surely someone more capable such as Opal would be trusted with a mission of this caliber. 

He only realized why when he pried further into the details. 

Penacony was a death trap. With so many powerful and important people gathered in one place, one wrong move on his part would spell his end.

He chuckles sardonically. Figures. They’re sending their most suicidal employee out for a suicide mission.

As if to rub the situation into his face, he finds out they’re pairing him with Dr. Ratio. What purpose is he supposed to serve, suicide prevention? Too little, too late, in his opinion. 

The doctor doesn’t look too thrilled about the fact either. It makes Aventurine feel somewhat better about this whole situation. 

“You’d best get your affairs settled before we leave, gambler. The odds that you make it back alive from this mission aren’t as high as you’d hope they’d be.”

“Ooh, well I do like the sound of that.”

A glare sent his way makes Aventurine roll his eyes, but he shuts up anyway. Plans are made and discussed for what role each of them will be playing before it’s time to leave. 

“Well then, I look forward to working with you in Penacony, Doctor.”

“Just don’t act like a complete idiot and we’ll be fine.”

The two men head their separate ways. Ratio’s advice to settle his affairs lingers in his mind, though. That means there’s a will he has to sign, assets he has to distribute, funeral arrangements to be made, and more. Of course, most, if not all of it, will be going toward you. You’d be set for the rest of your life, never having to work a day again if you so chose. 

He heaves a sigh. Ah, it’s all so tedious. It was all so much easier before you came along. He had no will to worry about. He’d toss caution to the wind every mission and wind up sorely disappointed when he returned, still alive. If he did end up dying, his assets would end up being pawned off and most likely make their way back to the IPC somehow. So what even was the point then?

With all that being said, he didn’t mind putting in all that extra work for your peace of mind and so you’d continue to benefit, even after his death. 

Still, the stakes this time around are higher, and he has you to consider now before placing his bets. One wrong move and you’d be left without someone to welcome home. And then there’s the consideration of whether he’d be willing to die when the moment came. Sure, he’d attempted several times before but they’d all failed. Would he be able to take the plunge this time, should the opportunity present itself? 

“Hey, Doc?”

Ratio is about to leave, but the uncharacteristic hint of hesitation in his voice makes him stop and look over his shoulder.

“... How can you tell if you’ve lived a life worth living?”

Ratio stares at the blonde in silence in disbelief over what he’s hearing. Aventurine chuckles, trying to dispel the awkwardness that’s settled in the air.

“No answer? Never mind-”

“That answer will vary from person to person. However, if you were to ask me personally…”

The doctor’s ruby eyes flit over Aventurine’s frame, narrowing in contemplation- and perhaps a hint of resignation. 

“Ask yourself this question: can you die today without any regrets?”

“Can I die today without any regrets?” Doctor, what were you thinking when you posed that rhetorical question on me? Obviously the answer would be no!

Expensive leather shoes click against stone as Aventurine hurriedly makes his way through the Dreamscape. The weight of having mere hours left to live looms above his head like an anvil, leaving him scrambling to figure out how to cheat death- not for the hope of living to see another day, but so he can carry out his mission. 

When confronted with death, even a suicidal man will cling to the urge to live for one reason or another. 

He’s hardly paying attention to where he’s going, muttering out half-hearted apologies to those he bumps into as he stumbles through the Dreamscape before he ends up in a secluded area. The kaleidoscopic iridescence in the corners of his vision makes him stumble and he audibly groans when a searing pain flashes through his temples, the Harmony’s brand on his mind assailing him again. 

Dammit… am I really at the end of the line now? And before I could do anything meaningful either…

He hears the sound of a… child humming some distance away? That’s strange, there’s no one else here. 

“Mister, are you lost too?”

That voice. 

He turns around slowly, as if that would change anything. Aventurine’s eyes dart across the boy standing before him, with rags for clothes and scraped knees. The child in front of him is everything he is not- or rather, what he was, but is no longer. Optimistic, with bright shining eyes. Hope still exists for him. 

Those eyes. Oh, it’s himself. 

Aventurine thinks he’s about to be sick. 

“Woah, you have such pretty eyes! Can I call you Mr. Pretty Eyes?”

Aventurine stiffly nods. 

“Sure. Call me whatever you want, kid. What’s your name?”

“It’s Kakavasha. Nice to meet you!”

And that’s the final nail in the coffin confirming his suspicions. 

Kakavasha looks around nervously.

“I was searching for my family, but I got lost. This place is so much bigger than home… Mister, do you think you could help me find them?”

Aventurine shakily extends a trembling hand out.

“Of course. Lead the way. How about you hold onto my hand so you don’t get lost anymore?

Kakavasha latches onto it and begins wandering around, calling out for his parents and big sister. Every unanswered call feels like a punch to the gut but he has a faint flickering of hope that he’ll be able to see them.

“You really love your family, kid,” remarks Aventurine in an attempt to keep some conversation going. 

“Of course! I do!”

Kakavasha pauses in his steps and thinks for a bit, eyes wandering skyward and free hand resting on his chin.

“… Do you have anyone you love, Mr. Pretty Eyes?”

“Yes, I do. Their name is (Name).”

The boy’s eyes light up, sparkling in curiosity.

“Woah, really? What’re they like?”

A light chuckle escapes Aventurine’s lips as he crouches down to Kakavasha’s eye level and ruffles his hair. 

“They’re the best thing to have ever happened to me.”

“Wow, they must be a really amazing person for you to say that…”

“They are. They're incredible.”

I don’t deserve them.

He chuckles and stands back up again, hand reaching for Kakavasha’s. The little boy continues to lead the way, until he suddenly stops and turns. 

“Would you like to meet my family? They’ve been gone for so long I think they went back home. You can introduce (Name) to them as well!”

Panic wells up inside him. Seeing his family? In this state? After all he’s done? No, he can’t. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t. Not under these circumstances!

“Kid, I don’t think-”

“It’s ok if (Name) shows up late. They’re nice people and they’ll understand.”

“No, I-”

“Come on, let’s go! They’re already waiting for us!”

Aventurine feels himself being forcefully pulled under and he instinctively closes his eyes. A blast of hot, sandy air hits him, making him shield himself. When it settles down, he opens his eyes to a familiar sight. Sand stretches as far as the eye can see. There’s minimal vegetation and he can feel the sun beating down on his back already.

Sigonia-IV. He’s returned home. 

Kakavasha eagerly tugs on his sleeve. 

“This is my home! I know it’s not much, but everyone I know and love is here. I think you’ll like it too.”

Still holding onto Aventurine’s hand, Kakvasha begins running toward the horizon. Aventurine, meanwhile, feels numb all over. 

There’s no way this is happening. Is this some sort of cruel prank? What did that chicken-wing boy do this time? But if this is just a cruel prank…

He looks around at the yellow sand stretching as far as the eye can see and the mountains in the distance.

… Then it’s far too realistic. How is this happening? If I filter out the memories of the massacre, then everything is the same as I remembered it. 

“We’re almost there!” calls out Kakavasha. “Just a little longer now!”

Three familiar figures stand in front of a tent some distance away and Aventurine feels his heart seize up in his chest. He’s long forgotten their faces, but he instinctively recognizes them.

Mom. Dad. Big Sis. 

Kakavasha lets go of his hand and sprints toward his family. He leaps into the arms of his big sister, who spins him around giddily while his mother plants kisses over his face and his father holds his tiny hands. 

As he approaches, he realizes they have no faces. Where there are supposed to be eyes, a nose, and a mouth, there is nothing. A blank canvas with dents and ridges where the features are supposed to be greets him and he feels the hairs on the back of his neck rise up in warning. 

The only exception to this is his sister, with her grinning mouth and her long blonde hair billowing in the wind- the only feature he remembers clearly about her. She takes notice of him and tilts her head curiously to the side. 

“Kakavasha, did you br▇ng a f▇▇▇d of ▇urs?”

Her voice comes out scratchy and distorted with only a few syllables recognizable. There’s a sinking feeling in his stomach when he realizes why.

He can’t remember her voice anymore. Or the voices of his parents, for that matter. He’s forgotten what they look like, and now what they sound like. What’s been forgotten can’t be restored. 

“Yeah!” exclaims Kakavasha nestled safely into his sister’s arms now. “Everybody, meet Mr. Pretty Eyes!”

They greet him with friendly waves and scratchy sounds that he thinks are supposed to be words of greeting. He almost chokes on the guilt and regret building up in his throat

“▇▇ look just like ▇▇ Kakavasha over here! ▇▇ ▇▇ ▇▇ ▇▇ his long-lost b▇▇▇▇r or something?” 

Aventurine forces out a laugh as the others join in. 

If only they knew…  

The sun is going down now, and the solar winds that blanket the planet grow harsher. They quickly usher him into the tent, telling him to make himself at home and inviting him to stay for dinner. There’s no way out as far as he can tell, so he obliges.

 It’s smaller than he remembers, he thinks as he ducks to avoid hitting his head. There’s a rudimentary kitchen setup in the back that Kakavasha’s mother is tending to as she begins preparing dinner. Kakavasha hops into his sister’s lap and shakes the sand out of his hair and gets it everywhere, to which she lightly scolds him with a tug on his cheek. 

He takes a seat on the fraying rug in the center and rubs a brightly-colored teal tassel between his fingers. The sand is already starting to seep into his clothes. He feels grains of it in his shoes and it pools onto his pristine white dress pants. Grains of it are nestled deep into the fur collar of his coat from the harsh solar winds outside that even vigorous shaking won’t dislodge.

Kakavasha’s sister smiles at him. It’s a bit unnerving, just seeing a smiling mouth with no other features.

“So, Mr. ▇▇▇ Eyes, w▇at 's your ▇▇▇ ? At least, I’m a▇▇▇ ming Mr. ▇▇▇ Eyes isn’t yo▇▇ r▇l name.”

“It’s Kaka-”

He swallows hard and kicks himself. He’s not Kakavasha. Not anymore.

“It’s… Aventurine.”

The very act of saying that name makes him feel like he’s betraying his family, stabbing them in the back. 

“A▇▇▇▇▇ , huh? What an in▇▇▇ing and pretty name!” remarks his sister. He feels the air rush out his lungs and almost coughs up a sardonic laugh from the sheer irony of it all. First his family, then his language, then his body, and now even his name? Is there anything left that he can truly call his from his culture? 

Thunder distantly rumbles overhead. Kakavasha and his sister peek their heads out curiously of the tent. She gasps excitedly and points to the darkening clouds overhead. 

“Hear that? ▇▇ sign ▇▇ your birthday is ▇▇▇ ▇!” she exclaims as she holds Kakavasha’s hands in hers.“▇▇▇ ▇▇ excited?”

… His birthday? 

Thunder rumbles overhead again and he hears the pitter-patter of raindrops hitting the tent. 

His birthday. The Kakava Festival. 

His heart sinks into his stomach as his family chatters around him. They talk about birthday celebrations and what they’ll do that day, but it’s a muffled mess in his ears. Is it really almost his birthday already? Sigonia-IV followed many beliefs that were independent from the rest of the universe, namely the Aeon belief system, and that also extended to the calendar system. Truth be told, he wasn’t exactly sure what day his birthday was in the Interastral Standard calendar system. He usually just flipped a coin and that was if he even bothered to celebrate, which he hadn’t done in many years. 

Aventurine does some quick estimating and realizes that yes, it’s almost his birthday. But how would he celebrate his birthday in this world, where all was good and he still remembered their faces and voices? 

Aventurine closes his eyes and thinks. His mother would be overjoyed to know that her beloved son finally has a lover now. She’d make him clean the tent from top to bottom in preparation for your arrival, even though the sand would find its way back inside again within a matter of a few hours. His parents would cook up a feast for your arrival while his sister would pester him to tell more stories about you- as if there were any left that he hadn’t. When the time would come and you’d nervously step through the tent flap with one hand holding his tightly and another clutching some gifts, his mother would rush forward and greet you with a kiss to the cheek, having already accepted you as family. His sister would steal you away from him to dote on you, much to his half-hearted chagrin. His father would tell corny jokes that you’d cringe at, and his mother would teach you recipes that had been passed down for generations, her warm, weathered hands resting atop yours and lovingly guiding your movements in the kitchen. 

The five of you, safe, warm, and alive under the sun. 

Hours after the rest of his family had gone to sleep, you’d lie side by side outside, watching the stars drift on by. Sigonia-IV is nothing like Pier Point. Free from light and industrial pollution, you’d have a stunning view of the cosmos every night. Twinkling stars shine overhead, so close you could practically pluck them out of the sky. Multicolored clouds of gas and stardust bathe the sky in their shifting hues as he tells you stories that have been passed down from generation to generation with the occasional shooting star passing by. You’d stay like that for hours on end, content to just listen and watch, until you were lulled to sleep by his voice. 

It would be cold, as all desert climates are at night, but it was nothing he couldn’t bear with your warmth nestled into his side. 

In the spring, or around now, he’d take you to celebrate the Kakava festival under the stars with a roaring bonfire. The festival itself would be a solemn and silent celebration with people murmuring prayers to the Mother Goddess and tossing sacrificial vessels into the fires, but the celebration of his birthday afterward would be loud and joyful. Bonfire sparks would rise up into the sky, carried by the hot solar winds and the rich sounds of his people’s songs. His mother would drape you in turquoise jewelry and gift you traditional clothes that she would’ve spent hours beforehand making by hand, every stitch a labor of love. He’d teach you to dance to the cheers of his family and the familiar tunes he’d hum under his breath. His movements would be fluid and graceful as he spins and twirls you around, while you stumble and flail along. He’d enjoy every second of it- even if you step on his feet the whole time. 

He would be kinder in this world, he thinks. He’d still be Kakavasha. Aventurine would be an unknown man to him. He’d wear his heart on his sleeve and his eyes would still have life to them. He’d never have to hide his left hand. 

And you’d be happier too. You wouldn’t have to sift through the layers to find the true self underneath the act he puts up. He wouldn’t be so hot and cold- practically love-bombing you one moment and then disappearing without a word for weeks the next. He wouldn’t be a dirty gambler, a two-faced businessman, a disinterested womanizer, cheating scum, an IPC mutt, a corporate bootlicker, a worthless Sigonian slut or who knows what else you’ve heard about him–

In this world, there are no Katicans. The Avigins and his family are still intact. His neck is unmarred and he speaks the Avigin dialect fluently, instead of the halting and choppy cadence that's even worse than that of a child’s. Syrupy, honeyed words spill from his mouth as he teaches you common words and phrases in his mother tongue. Have you eaten yet? How did you sleep? How was your day? I missed you. Mother. Sister. Father. Lover. Goddess. I made you something. I saw this today and thought of you. Be safe. Sweet dreams. Goodnight. I love you. He chuckles when you parrot them back to him haltingly, with your accent mixed in. The notebook you keep with various phrases, their meanings, and their phonetics grows every day. The most worn out page was the one crammed full of declarations of love that sound more akin to poetry as your mastery over the dialect grows. The ink is smeared from how often you’ve run your fingers over them, murmuring them under your breath until you’d committed them to memory. In your arms is the safest I’ll ever be. I’m lucky to call you my lover. I sleep better when I’m with you. I secretly name stars and constellations after you. I’ll kiss the weariness away from your face every night. I pray to Mama Fenge every night for your safety. I imagine her hands and embrace to be as warm as yours, and it reassures me somehow. I’ll miss your warm hands when that day finally comes. Goodnight, I love you.  

We’ll be together even in Kakava’s next aurora. 

Aventurine jolts forward with a start. His eyes search around frantically, instinctively searching for his family and you, only to be greeted with a familiar sight that isn’t his home. Bright flashing lights, the sound of cars honking and speeding by, muffled pop music playing in the distance, and the sugary scent of SoulGlad greet his senses instead of arid hot wind that howls in his ears and endless seas of sand. You and his family are nowhere to be seen either. 

Oh. Right.

The Dreamscape.

His clothes stick to his skin drenched in a cold sweat and his glasses are resting lopsidedly on his face. His whole body is shivering uncontrollably, as if he’s been plunged into ice-cold water without warning. The world is going white before his eyes and all he can hear is the loud thump of his pulse in his ears that suddenly drops. He thinks he’s about to pass out again. This is the end, he thinks. Aventurine leans against the side of a wall again, taking deep, heaving breaths to steady himself and quell the nausea swirling around in his stomach. 

When it subsides and he doesn’t feel like he’s on the verge of death (sadly), he sits back up and forces out a laugh in place of a sob. First forcing a religious consecration onto him, then dangling his family in front of his face? How much crueler could the head of the Oak Family get? 

His heart sinks and an overwhelmingly bitter feeling engulfs him. It was just a dream all along. A dream within a dream, really. Was he really that desperate for something familiar again?

(And just like that, the mask known as Aventurine is back in place.)

(But he couldn’t even say goodbye or apologize to his family one last time, even if it wasn’t them.)

It was a pleasant dream, he’ll admit. How nice it would be to live in that world forever. But he knew it was a dream because it could never happen, as much as it pained him. 

Aventurine hears the voice of Kakavasha drifting along from further up ahead and knows he’s nearing the final leg of his plan. With what little time he has left, he takes pictures with the boy for posterity and buys the child all the treats his eyes rest on for more than a second. Aventurine delights in the way his eyes light up at the first taste before he eagerly digs in for more. 

It’s cathartic, in a way. 

Before stepping on stage, he looks up at the sky. It’s perpetually nighttime in Clock Studios Theme Park, but he knows the sun is shining elsewhere in the Dreamscape. Is the sun shining where you are back at home? He thinks it’s morning for you. You must still be asleep with the cat cakes curled into your sides, blissfully unaware of the news you’ll wake up to. 

Get onstage. Fear not. Never look back. 

One last thing to do.

He sends a final text to you.

Aventurine: I love you.

It stays on delivered when he puts his phone away. It’ll be the first thing you see when you wake up, and that’s more than enough for him. 

It’s time for the curtain call.

The feeling of Kakavasha’s tiny body in his arms won’t be enough to chase away the grief. Nothing ever will be. But this’ll be the closest he can get.

Aventurine hugs the boy close, squeezing as hard as he can without hurting him. He feels how he’s nothing more than skin and bone beneath the oversized rags. No child should have to be this thin, he thinks, and he’s even more glad he treated Kakavasha to his heart’s content earlier. 

This is the end. He gives Kakavasha one last squeeze to imprint this memory into his mind and gets up, waving goodbye over his shoulder all the while. 

He never looks back. 

In a shower of light, Kakavasha dissolves into the Nihility, and with him, Aventurine’s hopes for the ideal future- the one that you deserved. The Horizon of Existence is finally devoid of all color save for himself and the dark sun beckoning him forward toward the event horizon.

He takes a step forward, and then another. The sound of his footsteps against the surface and liquid splashing echo loudly in the empty space. 

The Nihility is beginning to slowly engulf him. He feels it encroaching at the edges of his mind, eating away at his thoughts one by one until nothing remains. A hollow, empty feeling settles into his heart that weighs him down. Aventurine looks down at his hands and realizes the color is beginning to seep from his vision until he, too, would become one with the Nihility. The point of no return beckons to him like a moth to a flame. Nothingness, emptiness, worthlessness. There’s nothing left for him to do. 

“Can you die today without any regrets?”

Aventurine finally has an answer to that question. The past is gone and he’s walking toward no future.

Yes. I finally can.

enjoyed this? my taglist is open!

@ theother-victoria, do not copy, repost, modify, translate, or feed to ai

[pascaloverx]

BORN TO DIE

Summary: In a tense political setting, a Targaryen bastard working as a prostitute is summoned by Prince Aemond to the Red Keep. Aemond wants her to approach his dragon, Vhagar, as a test of her worth. Although he plans for her to claim another dragon in the future, her immediate challenge is to survive Prince Aemond demands while trying to stay alive.

Author’s Note: This work is set in the world created by George R.R. Martin, as depicted in his book Fire & Blood, and none of the characters belong to me. The story will follow some events from the series House of the Dragon (2022), but with changes to fit the fanfiction narrative. Therefore, it will not adhere strictly to the series' storyline. This fanfiction is a work of fiction and may contain inappropriate language, adult content, and violence. Readers be warned. I hope you enjoy the story and interact with it. I apologize if there are any errors in the High Valyrian sections; I used a translator and am unsure of its accuracy. Thank you and happy reading.

AO3 LINK ONE

PREVIEW

Walking through King's Landing is exhausting. Your life as a bastard has not been easy, especially with the struggle for the Iron Throne. Unsure of which direction to take, you have tried to be invisible to the Targaryens while working in a brothel to survive. This morning, you were summoned by a royal messenger on behalf of King Aegon II. You thought it was a joke, but soon realized you really had to go to the Red Keep. You are taken to whoever summoned you like a little mouse sneaking through the sewers until you reach the surface. Perhaps they don't want to publicize that a prostitute is being brought in for a private conversation with the ruler of the Seven Kingdoms.

"I heard that my presence here had been requested. But I didn't imagine I would be summoned by Prince Aemond," you say as you enter the room indicated by the messenger and come face to face with Aemond One-Eye. He looks a bit more intimidating in person, but in a way, it's not a bad kind of intimidating. Just surprising.

"Ao kostagon enter, bastard." Prince Aemond commands with a certain skill. But you are somewhat worried that he might know you are a Targaryen bastard. So pretending to be oblivious seems to be the wisest course of action for now.

"This is a lovely place. An extremely enchanting castle. However, if you summoned me here for a conversation in another language, I will be a nuisance to Your Highness. Since your request for my presence proves ineffective, perhaps I should leave immediately," you say, trying not to show any hint of fear. You are a prostitute, accustomed to pretending all sorts of things. As you hesitantly move toward the exit of the room, where you are alone with the Prince, he doesn't seem to fall for your ruse. He throws a dagger in your direction, which grazes the corner of your cheek before embedding itself in the door, which is closed.

"Do you intend to waste our time here? I know you speak High Valyrian, and honestly, I’m hating your attempt to deceive me, gundjabo." He speaks while watching you turn, somewhat irritated by his actions. However, the One-Eyed Prince seems very proud of his deed. He is speaking in High Valyrian to you, probably to test you, but you feel that if you do not meet his expectations, the dagger will find its final mark and you will die.

"If you know that I can speak and understand what you are saying in High Valyrian, Your Highness, tell me, what use would a prostitute be to you? Do you, by any chance, have some secret desire in your chambers that requires a different language?" You might lose your tongue for speaking this way to the Prince Regent, but anger got the better of your temper, causing you to suggest that he brought you to the Red Keep to exchange heated vows in High Valyrian, which is nothing but folly.

"Your mouth would be much better sealed forever. But I need you for a mission, so for once, be less of a deceitful prostitute and serve your King," Prince Aemond says as he moves across the room, seemingly trying to reach you. You, however, despite your nerves, manage to grasp the dagger embedded in the door. Now, he stands just a few steps away from you, while you hold the dagger that could have gravely wounded you.

"I think this is yours, Your Highness." Your eyes meet the Prince's gaze. One eye reveals a hint of surprise, perhaps even pride, confirming that you can speak High Valyrian. The other eye, covered forever, conceals something deeper—perhaps resentment, perhaps fear. He approaches slowly, as if analyzing your behavior; likely wary of being harmed. But swiftly, his hand moves over yours, pulling the dagger from your grip and into his own.

"Follow me," is all he says as he sheathes the dagger somewhere in his attire and opens the door. You don’t fully understand his intent, but you know you don’t want to provoke Prince Aemond's wrath. At least not in this way. You follow him quickly, while the Prince seems to be almost racing toward one of the castle’s exits. He mounts a horse with enviable precision. You watch him, still unsure of your role in his sudden departure from the castle. He adjusts his long hair and then extends a hand toward you. You stare at him for three seconds before hearing him grunt in your direction. Seemingly as impatient as possible, he nearly falls off the horse while trying to grasp your arm, but he manages to hold onto it after the first attempt—holding your arm, not falling off the horse.

"Where are we going, Your Highness?" you ask, feeling your hair whip in the wind, as you notice a few people—probably servants of King Aegon II—passing by as if you’re inconsequential. Another grunt from Prince Aemond makes it clear that if you don’t get on the horse, you might be risking your well-being.

"I intend to test you before revealing your purpose. Now I suggest you come with me, or I’ll be forced to find another bastard to replace you and order your death." Prince Aemond seems astonished by your reluctance, forcing you to follow his commands. But really, there’s no other option. You leap toward him, being propelled onto the back of his horse. He begins to gallop with astonishing speed, so fast that you’re compelled to wrap your arms around his waist. He gives a slight turn of his head, looking in your direction, which startles you and almost makes you fall off the horse. However, this seems to amuse Prince Aemond. Before you can react, it seems you’re arriving at a location. A place certainly surrounded by nature, which gives you a comforting feeling despite the unknown. That is, of course, until you notice a massive dragon ahead. He brought you here to become dragon food.

"As flattered as I am by the importance you place on feeding your dragon well, I must say that a prostitute who speaks High Valyrian will not be any more special than any other meal given to your dragon," you say as you dismount the horse, struggling a bit. Prince Aemond is too absorbed in admiring his dragon to notice your struggle to get off the horse.

"Vhagar is a female dragon. And keep your mouth shut for a moment. You’ll soon understand your purpose here," Prince Aemond says, drawing closer to Vhagar. She, with her head lowered, lifts it from amidst some branches and foliage to see who is approaching.

"She is quite impressive. But I don’t understand why I was brought here, Prince Aemond. Is there a reason I need to meet your dragon?" you say as you follow the Prince toward the dragon. Vhagar emits a somewhat shrill noise, making you stop for a moment to look at her.

"I’ve heard that my sister plans to raise an army of bastards. I thought I might at least try to have one bastard on my side. There is a dragon, which has been confirmed to be available to be claimed. I want you to claim it for me and fight alongside your King." Prince Aemond speaks with vigor, as if discussing a great triumph that is to come. You look at him reluctantly, struggling to accept such an absurd proposal.

"You brought me here to force me to interact with your dragon. So if I don’t pass this test, I’ll be eliminated one way or another," you say, looking at Prince Aemond with some anger. He remains indifferent to whether you live or die. He just wants to ensure that he isn’t wasting his time chasing an illusion.

"I'm glad you're not as stupid as you seem. Now, stop wasting our time and go on," he says, as impatient as ever, stopping midway between you and Vhagar. You let out a nervous laugh, not quite believing that this is how you're going to meet your end.

"Likyri, ȳdra daor sagon zūgagon." You speak with a certain precision as you approach Vhagar. It’s not as if your job is to claim her. But if she accepts you, you might be able to prove useful to the Prince. And if you’re useful to him, you’ll be useful to the King. You move your hand forward to signal Vhagar that you are there. You are a nobody to her, but you appear alongside her rider. You look into her eyes, trying to stay steady as the dragon raises part of her body in your direction. She seems to be still assessing who or what you are.

"Gīda, Vhagar. Ao ȳdra daor jorrāelagon naejot zūgagon nyke." You try to calm her, speaking in High Valyrian or at least the most you’ve learned. You’re somewhat terrified when you notice that your hand is on Vhagar. It seems she has allowed you to touch her, perhaps mistaking you for a previous rider. The reasons for the dragon allowing your touch may not be particularly relevant. What matters is that now you’re at risk of becoming dragon food, as Prince Aemond certainly seems very enthusiastic about the fact that you’ve touched, and are still touching, his dragon.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[seeingivy]

weekend getaway

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

an: happy birthday to @pickuptruck01 ur one of the sweetest and most supportive readers of this silly little fic, I love you so so much pookie I hope you enjoy the little gift 💌

**part of my best friend's older brother fic

previous part linked here

--

there’s a lingering feeling ruminating in the back of sukuna’s head when he wakes up. and it’s almost like he’s in a crowded room – like he knows there’s something creeping up against the wall that he has his back turned to and he refuses to look at it. 

sukuna could die today. so could you. he could get a call and realize that the last thing he said to yuuji was lackluster or you could be horribly devastated if sammy died before you got to properly reconcile things and at least be on stable ground with her. 

you could have a heart disease. the ultrasound that he went to with you, where the doctor whispered reassurance that your heart’s chambers and valves were in perfect shape, could be wrong. he could go to sleep next to you and not wake up the next morning. 

he ignores it for the time being. 

“i figured that it would be nice to spend the weekend together away from here. i planned out a few things that i thought you’d like if that sounds like something you want to do. you know, birthday boy and all.” 

it’s a nervous anticipation – this trip either being a horrible misstep or one of the best things you’ve ever done – and it surges through you as you pass the little handwritten itinerary over to him. 

the past few weeks felt like push and pull, but it seemed more stable as time went on. he would disappear to help his mom with something, but half of the time, you were convinced it was just something that he needed to do to assuage his own guilt. he’s always come back the same, just as keen for his time as you were for his. 

at times, it was hard to watch. watch him try to calm his mom, and comfort yuuji, and in the few seconds he had with you, trying to sweet talk you to ease too. you hoped the trip would at least let him pump the brakes a little bit so you could do it for him. 

and you watch as sukuna picks it up, scanning it over with his eyes, with his left hand still wrapped on the inside of your thigh, his fingers warm on your skin. 

aquarium, cherry blossoms, dinner at home <3 

“you planned a trip for me? for my birthday?” sukuna asks. 

sukuna’s purposely pulling at your leg – he’s been looking forward to this trip since yuuji told him. 

“yeah. i just thought it might be nice. to take some time away, just the two of us. in fact, you can even go without me!” 

sukuna smiles, setting the paper down, before using his ankle to pull out the stool of the kitchen island so you’re facing him properly. he can’t help but do it, nestle himself in between your legs with his hands on your hips – watching the nervous expression in your eyes as you look up at him. 

it’s a little mean, pulling your leg this way. but sukuna was just relishing in this fact – that you were still trying to do nice things for him, looking for his approval for things as small as gifts and birthdays. 

the two examples he had as a kid – his parents and your own – he was always convinced that this sort of thing, the novelty of a relationship, was just something that wore down over time. that a day would come where you would be used to what he was giving, and he would be too, and you’d both fall into a slow monotonous thing together. 

or maybe even before that, you could die on him. he could die on you. yuuji could die and you would never be the same or some cancerous rot could be manifesting in his pancreas without him knowing until it was too late. 

“i can even go by myself?” sukuna asks. 

“i know that…” 

“know what?” sukuna asks, a little to eager with tantalizing eyes. 

you sigh. 

“i know the stuff recently has been a lot. and i love you and i know that sometimes getting away is something that could be nice to help you kind of process things. and i realize that i’m a part of those things so if you want to go alone, you could also do that. i just want –” 

sukuna leans forward, hands firm on your waist, before pressing his lips against yours. you can feel him smiling, a laugh leaving his lips, as he nearly topples you off the stool, extremely eager for nine in the morning. 

“i hope you know that when i want to get away from things, i kind of want you to get away from them with me from here on out. you’re my main thing.” sukuna murmurs, leaning back the slightest and rubbing his thumb against your lower lip. 

you smile. 

“oh thank god. i’d totally let you leave on your own if you wanted to but then i’d probably cry about it a little.” 

sukuna laughs. 

“and you wouldn’t ask to come with?” 

“i mean, i don’t know! i know you like to get away to do your own thing. i don’t want to be a distraction.” 

sukuna grins, poking his tongue in his cheek. 

“i mean you’re always a distraction. just the good kind. i love what you put together. and…” 

sukuna pauses, flitting his gaze down to your hands and lifting your knuckles against his lips. 

“it makes me happy that you know me well enough to know that this is something i’d like. and that i need.” sukuna responds. 

you can feel the warmth rushing to your cheeks, come over with a weird wave of shyness at being praised so openly. 

because it was one thing for him to shower you in his constant infections, but the fact that he was able to parse out exactly what you were putting down – and appreciate you for it – left something else simmering in your chest. 

“did you pack for me already?” sukuna asks. 

you give him a nod, as he presses a wet kiss to your cheek before nestling himself into your arms. 

--

the lingering feeling becomes more apparent to him when the two of you make it into town and when your wrap your arm in his at the aquarium. the itching feeling has peeled off the wall, making a slow arching march towards him, but sukuna’s determined – he will ignore it. he is going to enjoy this day with you. 

sukuna has a newfound appreciation for the aquarium. he was never really a fan of that type of thing – sea creatures and water – just a personal preference of his, but his opinion was entirely changed after the fact. 

well, slightly. he didn’t really care for the aquarium. what he did care for was watching you walk around the room, pressing your fingers to the glass, and the quiet murmuring that you offered him. 

“that’s an opah. they also call it a moon fish.” 

“an opal?” 

“no. an opah. o-p-a-h.” you whisper. 

sukuna smiles at the almost angry insistence in your tone, matched with your wide eyes glued to the tank, and skin bathed in the almost neon blue light of the aquarium. 

you could lose your voice. something could break in you and you could never smile at him again. if you lost your memory, all the quick witted facts you would always tell him would cease all together. 

“an opah. okay baby, tell me more.” 

“they’re really rare so they’re good luck. they like to stay alone unless it’s mating season.” 

sukuna was always walking bad luck. he had a horrible track record – it wouldn’t be shocking to him if he had everything he wanted in the palm of his hand, and by some cruel twist of fate, this is when his body would give out on him. 

“so it’s my type of fish.” sukuna states. 

you roll your eyes. 

“my ass. you were getting around during mating season. and otherwise.” 

sukuna scoffs. 

“i’ve changed.” sukuna defends. 

“yeah, just don’t go changing history, idiot.” you respond, linking your arm in around his wrist as you pull him to the other side of the aquarium. 

sukuna watches as you cross your hands over your biceps, eyes pressed through the glass, as he takes the second to watch you. he wonders if you would find it weird if he took a picture of you, in the weird blue light. 

that could be the last one he takes. you could bring kids into the world and die right after the fact. he could raise kids that looked just like you, being forced to recount stories through pictures, through faded memories that would soon even be lost to him. 

your shoes have bows on them – something you told him earlier were called ballet flats – and he immediately decided that they were his favorite, only because he thought they were so fitting to you. a frilly white lace skirt with a black top, matched a pair of earrings and the necklace he had gifted you. 

and naturally, a pink ribbon in your hair. he reaches forward, fingers in your hair as he tightens it against your hairband, smiling at the quiet thanks that you murmur as you look around the little tank. 

sukuna leans forward, that itching feeling creeping up into his skin, and trying to lean into your touch to avoid it instead. 

“are you looking for something specific?” he whispers, his breath tickling your neck. 

“yeah. it’s a butterflyfish.” 

“what’s special about that one?” 

“it mates for life. which is kind of rare for fish.” you respond. 

sukuna smiles. 

“you know a lot about fish mating patterns. you have something you want to tell me?” 

“you know i like animals. i literally want to be a vet.” 

“speaking of, did you hear back from anywhere?” 

sukuna can feel the sudden tenseness that seems to manifest in your frame, as you nearly shrink at the question. and he curses himself for dropping the ball, the tension of the fast few weeks immediately blindsighted him to the fact that you were at the most painful part of the process – the waiting. 

“uh, sure.” you respond. 

“really? did you get in?” 

“well, not really, but it’s your birthday and…” 

sukuna immediately pulls back, his hands around your wrists, as he looks down with hazel eyes drowning in concern. 

“i’m sorry sweetheart. are you okay?” he asks. 

you frown. 

“can we not talk about this right now? it’s your birthday. your weekend! i don’t want to –” 

“my weekend. and you’re my girlfriend. if you want to –” 

sukuna watches as you shake your head, eyes pinched in something he can’t really place as you look up at him, the expression in your eyes really begging. 

“sukuna. not right now, okay?” 

“okay. later?”

you smile. 

“for sure, okay?

and sukuna watches as you look around, before giving him a smile and standing at the tips of your toes to press a kiss to his lips. and he snakes his hand around your neck, drinking in the sweet taste of your mango lip balm and your strawberry scented perfume, and wonders if you’ll let him kiss you forever. 

“hey.” you whisper. 

“hey you.” 

“you’re my butterflyfish.” 

sukuna smiles. and when you pull back, the sinking feelings rushed all the way and creeped into his bones. he can barely get another word out for the rest of the aquarium. 

because he could collapse in your arms. he could ruin your life if the electric signals in his brain stopped working, if his blood was rotten, and it would be his fault for tying himself to you in the first place. you could mate for life and he could leave it at any second. 

--

sukuna enjoys the cherry blossom trees. he enjoys the fact that the sun is sinking down into the horizon, that the golden rays peek through the bits of the leaves, and that your head is in his lap, and it makes it easier to focus. 

“have you ever heard of sylvia plath’s fig tree?” you ask. 

sukuna shakes his head. you gesture for him to join you at your side, as he sinks down and lies down on the blanket with you, the two of you looking up at the pink branches hanging above. 

“well, this isn’t really a fig tree, but just imagine.” you respond. 

“okay.” 

“sylvia plath talks about this green fig tree in her book.” 

sukuna smiles. 

“figs are a sex coded fruit.” 

“i beg your pardon?” you ask. 

“you know. from that hades story.” 

you roll your eyes. 

“are you an idiot? that’s pomegranate.” 

“fuck. well, i feel like in every old fucking story about like sex and the wonders of sin or whatever they’re always fucking yapping about figs. so shut up.” 

you shake your head, before looking back up at the tree. 

“the forbidden fruit is apples.” 

“no, it’s not. apples aren’t even good.

“okay, well, that’s your opinion.” 

“we’re not getting into a debate about this. talk about your fig tree.” 

you roll your eyes at him, before pressing your cheek into his shoulder. 

“sylvia plath talks about this fig tree. and how she saw her life in the tree. and each fig on the tree was a life of hers. one was a happy family and a good husband and the other was a famous poet and a professor and the list went on and on. each one was a very specific thing that she saw in her life and she found it really, really difficult to pick which one she wanted.” 

“and?” 

“and she took so long that they all wilted at her feet. she was starving but she was so indecisive that she just couldn’t pick one, so she was at the edge of the tree, and she watched as they all went to ruin at her feet.” you respond. 

sukuna pauses. his fig tree could die. someone could cut it down by driving drunk or not paying attention on the road. 

“what do you think about it?” he asks, twisting the ends of your hair in his free hand. 

you shrug. 

“just that i’m really glad that you’re the fig i ended up on. the others don’t really pale comparison in my head.” you murmur. 

“oh thank god. i was going to give you a whole the grass isn’t greener on the other side lecture just so you wouldn’t leav eme.” 

you laugh. 

“it reminds me a lot of something my mom said to me.” you state.

“and what’s that?” 

you lean over on your side, tangling your legs in with his, as he mimics your motions, his forehead pressed against yours as the sun sinks down behind you. 

“not trying to push you into talking by saying it.” you clarify. 

“well, i fully know you are and i won’t do it unless i feel like it.” 

you sigh. he knew you too well. 

“okay.” 

you reach forward, interlocking your fingers with his. 

“i asked her about grief. i know that you…you’re feeling it and it’s not something that i’ve ever felt. and i just wanted her advice on how to help you.” 

sukuna’s convinced he won’t ever find someone like you. he prays he won’t have to. 

“she was telling me that grief reminds people about how they loved wrong. that since that person is gone permanently, all people can really think about is all the ways they wished they did things differently. and i don’t think that necessarily applies for your dad, but…i don’t know. it applies for me. i want to love you the right way. and my sister. and your family and my friends and i just…have a weird sense of perspective now.” 

sukuna smiles. 

“the mere fact that you love me is enough for me. that’s quite literally the only thing i’ve ever wanted from you.” sukuna asks. 

“i know that. but i want to love you in a way that’s special. you’re like…my literal godsend. you’re so perfect and understanding and patient…and i know what it’s like to feel the complete opposite with someone and i want you to know that i appreciate that about you. that you’re loving. that you’re a good guy and you never…embarrass me and actually make me really happy to flaunt you around and stuff.” 

“flaunt me around?” 

you roll your eyes. 

“you’re hot and you know that. and you’re smart and you make money and you’re a really good brother and a son, which is like very attractive.” 

“right. keep going.” 

you scoff. 

“as if.” 

sukuna shrugs. 

“you do love me in a way that’s special. and i like to flaunt you too. like, yeah the girl i’ve been obsessed with since i was a kid actually loves me back, if you can believe it.” 

the quiet voice in sukuna’s head seems to taper a little bit. though it feels a bit like a slippery slope – just because you make him feel like he’s on top of the world doesn’t mean he actually is. 

“i do love you back. maybe even more than you.” 

“that’s a very bold statement. and one i’ll never agree with by the way.” sukuna responds. 

--

sukuna thinks that the dinner might be his favorite. only because his head is quiet for the few hours you spend with him. a special recipe that you picked out for him to make, one that you watch him intently cook with your feet dangling over the kitchen counter, and your grabby fingers trying to snack on the pieces that he was preparing. 

“stop eating the salad. it’s not even finished yet.” sukuna scolds. 

“i’m so hungry.” 

“come eat this butt. the food is almost done.” 

“don’t tempt me, whore.” you respond, pushing off the counter as you wrap yourself around his torso, pressing a kiss to the bare skin of his back. 

that was the thing that you could appreciate about sukuna. that down to his core, he really did have whore tendencies – even if he was in a committed relationship. because he really did walk around with his shirt off for no reason, that he almost did the domestic things because he knew you were turned on by them, and that he liked to push your buttons when it came to things like this. 

“i’m the whore? i’m not wearing lingerie under my shirt. the shirt you stole from me, by the way.” 

you feel your cheeks burn. 

“did you think i didn’t notice? you can’t really get these things past me.” sukuna responds. 

you scoff. 

“because you’re a common street slut. sorry i don’t have as much experience to compete with.” you respond. 

sukuna laughs, before turning to you, one of the free cucumbers that you were just picking out of the salad in his fingers. he hands it you, clearly meant to be a peace offering, that you angrily snatch out of his hands. 

“i’m not a common street slut. you packed it in my bag by accident. and i can put two and two together, you’re obviously going to wear it tonight.” 

you roll your eyes. 

“why’s that so obvious?” 

“it’s my birthday.” 

“so you think i’m going to give you a lap dance because your brain fully developed?” 

“i’d appreciate that..” 

you shove him in his side. 

“stop teasing. it’s not funny.” you respond. 

and sukuna opens up his arm, gesturing for you to take the space in between his arms, as you press your cheek against his bare chest and wrap your arms around him. he continues to cut the vegetables with his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“you’re into that type of thing.” he murmurs. 

“sue me!” you respond. 

sukuna laughs as he pulls back, setting the knife down and wiping his hands, before angling your face up and reaching for the buttons on his shirt. you can feel the nervousness come over you – the mere fact that the two of you hadn’t done…anything…since his dad died – as you reach for his hands to stop him. 

“sukuna.” 

he pulls back. 

“do you want me to stop?” 

“no. i mean, i just figured you wanted to eat first.” 

“no, i do. i just want to see how my pretty girl looked, that’s all.” 

“okay, yeah.” 

sukuna narrows his eyes at you. 

“you sure?” 

you give him a nod, as he brings his hands up again, unbuttoning the buttons of the shirt of his that you had stolen. it’s a quiet sigh that escapes his lips, accompanied by a wet kiss to your cheek, before he pulls back. 

“do you wear pink on purpose?” 

“do you walk around with your shirt off on purpose?” you ask. 

sukuna grins. 

“okay, fair point. sit there and look pretty. i’m almost done.” 

sukuna plates the food nicely and the two of you eat it from one plate. he’s always one for the dramatics – insisting that you sit on his lap and the two of you share utensils and all because it’s more intimate – and he tells you about every birthday he’s ever had. 

in europe, at home. getting a bike as a gift, sharing his wii with yuuji, seeing the eiffel tower for the first time. getting special colored flame candles on his birthday, sucking the helium out of balloons, and getting kicked out of an arcade. 

and he’s quick with it – pulling the blinds, dimming the lights – before he pulls you into his lap, hands warm on the bare skin of your waist as he pulls you in for the first time in weeks. and he can tell – that you’re a little too eager, that it’s been a little too long, and he tries to forget the fact that it could all be over in a second. 

“are you going to tell me about vet school?” he murmurs, breath warm on your lips. 

“i’m wearing this pretty outfit for you and you’re going to talk to me about vet school?” you murmur back. 

“just curious.” 

you pull back, noting the pink flush on his cheek and the panting in his chest, as you give him a nod and reach up to tuck your hair behind your ears. and you can tell that he’s immediately attentive, that he’s on the defensive and that whatever he’s about to say is about to be ten levels of supportive – even though it doesn’t feel like you deserve it. 

“i applied to ten schools. and i got rejected from nine.” 

“and the last?” 

“it’s in my inbox. i just don’t want to open it.” 

sukuna reaches forward, cupping the side of your cheek in his hand, before reaching forward to press a kiss to your forehead. it’s sweeter than the last kisses he gave you – those being fast and fervent, eager, and intoxicating. 

“is there a reason you didn’t tell me? i hope it’s not because i’m going through things, because i always want to be here for you regardless of that.” he asks. 

you shrug. 

“no, it’s not that at all. it’s just that it makes it more real.” you respond. 

“i don’t follow.” 

you sigh. 

“if i tell you, you’re going to be sweet and tell me that i’m smart and capable. that these things are really hard, that there’s lots of factors that go into it, and that there wouldn’t be any shame in trying again. that all of the work i did was still worthwhile, that i’ll still get there and all my stress won’t be for anything.” 

“that’s right.” he responds. 

“but that’s the thing. that makes it real. you having to tell me that, it…it means i failed. it means i fell down and you had to pick me up. that i’d have to acknowledge the fact that i did.” 

sukuna frowns. 

“you know i’d say all of that to you regardless?” 

“it’s different on the heels of a rejection.” you respond. 

“but you didn’t open all of them. there’s still one left.” 

“that i probably got rejected to.” you respond. 

sukuna rolls his eyes. 

“you can’t possibly know that.” 

“i mean, given my track record…” 

sukuna pauses, before reaching over on the nightstand in hiding your phone. 

“that’s easy. set the record straight. open it.” 

you narrow your eyes at him. 

“sukuna.” 

“you’ve already made it real. i think you’re my smart and capable girlfriend, who will most definitely be a vet someday, even if you open a rejection email right now. this is all part of the journey and this setback only makes you more resilient, would only make you a better vet than you could have been prior.” 

you sigh, taking the phone from him, as he leans over, eyes peering down at the screen. and it’s the one email in your inbox that’s unopened, as you look up at him and give him a weary smile. and it’s just as quick, one touch before your entire little screen is doused in little confetti, as you read the opening paragraph. 

congrats y/n l/n! you’ve been accepted to the university of tokyo veterinary school in the class of 2028! 

you look up at him, at the bright smile on his face, as he wraps his arms around your waist, peppering warm kisses all over your skin. and you can feel your heart racing in your chest, your head nearly racing at the thoughts swimming through your head as sukuna leans forward, his voice quiet. 

“what was that  you were saying about a track record, future doctor?” 

“oh my god, shut up.” 

“i’m so proud of you, you know that?” 

you give him a smile, before pressing yourself into his embrace. 

“future doctor.” you whisper. 

“future doctor. my dad is dancing in his hell somewhere.” he responds. 

“and mine is somewhere trying to remember what my name is.” you respond. 

the two of you laugh, leaning your foreheads against each other, as you take the quiet beat, letting it sink in. 

you’re going to be a doctor. sukuna hopes he lives long enough to see it. that you live long enough to do it. 

“wanna know the crazy part?” you ask. 

“what’s that?” 

“i did all this and you’re talking to me about vet school.” you respond. 

what you expect is a giggling joke back is instead a pair of warm lips on your neck, accompanied by that horribly edging gravelly voice that sukuna uses when he murmurs. 

“sorry, sweetheart. was this what you had in mind?” 

you’re barely even to muster a response as sukuna sinks his teeth into your sweet spot, a laugh leaving him as he watches you nearly keel your head back at the feeling. 

--

three hours later, fresh and clean, you’re asleep at sukuna’s side and the thoughts are so petrifying, he considers that he might die just from how much they’re haunting him. that the reason his voice was so quiet during dinner is because now hours later, after the fact, it’s so dangerously loud that he thinks it’ll do something to him. 

a car crash. a rare and hard to diagnose disease. a mass casualty incident. the 0.01% statistic. 

sukuna thinks about the fact that he lied earlier. 

the mere fact that you love me is enough for me. that’s quite literally the only thing i’ve ever wanted from you. 

he lied because that’s not true in the slightest. 

it’s not enough for him to have you love him back. he needs every last second of it, every last second of a long life to feel it for as long as he can. he needs your heart to be in tip top shape, he needs to be as fit as he can, the two of you have to live the long life that he had in his head. 

it haunts sukuna too. what you had mentioned, about what your mom had said. 

grief is proof of all the ways you loved wrong. that if you died in his arms tomorrow, he’d sit there with thousands of regrets. that he didn’t tell you he loved you enough times. that he didn’t get to marry you. that you never got the love that you wanted, the lifelong love you dreamed about. 

sukuna pushes up off the bed, head in his hands, as he can’t stop the suffocating, warm wetness in his throat and the sounds from leaving his throat. and it’s just as fast, because in the minute that follows, he feels your warm hands on his back, rubbing circles into his skin and accompanied by your sleepy voice. 

“ryomen. what is it?” 

“you’re going to think i’m crazy and you’re going to leave me.” he responds, his voice raspy. 

you frown. 

“what are you talking about?” you murmur. 

“i’m going to ask you to do something. and you’re going to think i’m crazy and leave me.” he repeats, almost more distressed this time. 

“ask me.” you respond. 

sukuna sighs, almost angrily rubbing the heels of his palms against his eye sockets, before he looks over at you, eyes weary. 

“get dressed. we’re going to a tattoo parlor.” he responds. 

--

the walk over is quiet, his hand wrapped around yours, as he nervously eyes the small groups of people that are still lingering on the street in the dead of night. the city is noticeably quieter at four in the morning and sukuna’s got some version of his guard up as he pushes you into the closest tattoo parlor, two blocks down from the hotel. 

the entire room is bathed in a neon light from an LED sign, as sukuna walks up to the boy at the counter. 

“do you have rings?” 

he nods, pushing off the stool, as he starts rummaging through the little plastic boxes that are hanging on the shelf of the wall. 

“rings?” you whisper. 

“this is the only place open right now that would have them.” sukuna responds. 

the boy returns just as fast, opening a little plastic box of a mixed arrangement of rings, as sukuna lets go of your hand and reaches for one. it’s a plastic green, mimicking the appearance of jade, as he reaches for your hand and settles it on to your ring finger. 

“okay. we can go back now.” 

you cross your hands over your chest. 

“it’s four in the morning. you can’t just drag me here and do that with no explanation.” you murmur. 

sukuna frowns. 

“please drop it.” 

“sukuna. no, i can’t just –” 

sukuna reaches for your hands. 

“please. i’m begging you, don’t make me explain what that was because you’re –” 

“i’m not going to think you’re crazy! in fact, the only thing crazy right now is that you did this in the dead of the night. you’re scaring me and i just want to know whatever it is that’s going on your head so i can help you.” 

sukuna watches as warm tears well in your eyes, your hands cold against his cheeks, as you take your turn to beg. he feels horrible. 

“just tell me what it is.” you murmur. 

sukuna sighs, before shaking off the embarrassment. 

“grief is proof of the ways you loved wrong.” he murmurs. 

“what?” 

“my dad is dead. he’s dead and all i really think about is how you could die. and if you died, all i would think about is how you would have died before i got to give you that.” sukuna responds, pointing at the ring. 

you raise your eyebrow at him. 

“a plastic green ring?” 

sukuna sighs. 

“a wedding ring.” 

you feel your throat dry, noting the fact that there’s warm tears welling in his eyes now. 

“a wedding ring?” 

“i’m going to give you a real one. obviously, i’m going to give you a real one. i even…i even have it all planned out. i want to take you to see the waterlilies. and i want to propose to you there. but i don’t know if i’ll ever get to do that. i don’t want to die without giving you one of those. and i know it’s fucking insane but my dad died so just fucking ignore it if it freaks you out or if it’s weird and just throw it away tomorrow, okay? i’m clearly just having some type of…” 

sukuna stops as you let go of his hand, feeling his heart sink in his chest as he watches you march over to the plastic box, your eyes peering through the box. 

there goes his chance. he’s scared you off. every bit of insanity that he’s shown you has come to this moment – where he’s in a dirty tattoo parlor, talking about marrying you. being so paranoid that you’re going to die that he has to give you something, that he has to marry you even if it’s in his head. 

you march over and find another one – a plastic green ring – before you march back over to sukuna, reaching for his hand and securing it around his ring finger. and you watch as he looks down, quickly clocking what it is that you’ve done, before he looks back up at you, eyes wide. 

“what are you doing?” 

“you can’t just…give me a symbolic wedding ring and not expect me to give one back. i don’t want to die without giving you one either.” 

sukuna can feel that itching feeling that he felt in the morning, whatever it was, come to ahead right in that moment – in a dimly lit, sweaty smelling tattoo parlor – as he nearly starts sobbing, pressing his head into your neck as you lean into his touch. 

“you don’t mean that.” 

“are you serious? you can’t just stand there talking about how you’d regret that you never got to give me a wedding ring and think that i wouldn’t feel the same way after you pointed it out.” 

sukuna only hugs you harder. 

“i think a lot about what it means that i got to have you this much later in my life. i could have started dating you when i was four. or when i was in highschool. or when you came back from europe. i have a lot of regrets when it comes to you – not knowing what you were going through earlier, not reaching out to you sooner.” you respond. 

you shake your head as he pulls back, red bleary eyes staring back at you. 

“i finally have you. i won’t have any proof of all the ways i’ve loved wrong when you die. and i’ll die trying.” 

sukuna gives you a teary laugh, before cupping his hands around your cheeks. you can feel the plastic clad finger on your cheek, taking the second to admire the one secured around your own had. 

“you’ll do a whole comprehensive test with your doctor, not just your cardiologist. you look both ways before you cross the street and always keep your pepper spray with you. don’t delay showing your doctor what looks weird, and…and don’t die on me.” sukuna murmurs. 

“okay.” 

“and i won’t love you wrong either. everything conspired to get me here, with you, right now. that plastic ring will be a real one, you…you are going to stay here.” 

you can tell that he doesn’t really believe the last part. 

“yes, i am.” 

“you…you are, right? because i fucking love you. you…you can’t do that.” 

you smile. 

“the plastic ring will be a real one. and i’ll be right next to you.” 

a very teary eyed sukuna leads you out of the tattoo parlor, swirling the little plastic ring on his finger, as he reminds himself of the fact. that you’ll be right next to him. 

it’s the only solace he has. and quite possibly, the only one he needs to get him through it. 

“y/n.” he whispers. 

“yeah?” 

“i never got to ask. are you going to marry me?” 

you smile, admiring the little rings on your finger. 

“one day.” you resond. 

it fills his heart with an insurmountable amount of hope.

--

next part linked here

an: LOL

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[avoxrising]

The Feral One • Ch 11

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

I had such a hectic day but decided I wanted to stay up late and upload anyways. Prepare yourselves for a plot twist!!!

Content Warnings - Mentions of suicide/torture

How long had you been here? Weeks? Months? None of that mattered to you. You were happy here.

The capital doctors had fixed you. No more meltdowns over people touching you; no more urges to kill. You were finally healed.

You don’t know why they took the route of healing you while they tortured the others, but who were you to complain? They had made you whole again. Maybe they thought that making you realize the stability you had lived without for the past five years would be a form of torture. Maybe they thought it would make you sad. It didn’t. It made you the happiest you had been in a long time.

The only thing that would make you happier would be seeing Finnick. You know he’s not in the capital. Peeta said he saw him on the screen the other day while he was doing an interview, so you know he’s alive. You just hope you’ll be reunited soon.

Hopefully he will come here and they can fix him too. He may not show it, but his games and the years after have left him with a lot of scars. If he comes, you’ll make sure he gets the same treatment you received.

The power here keeps flickering out. Peeta says it’s cause the dam in District 5 was destroyed. Apparently Finnick and Katniss are in District 13 and the capital sent bombs. Peeta warned them and got extra torture because of it.

Johanna is silent outside of her screams. Whatever they’re doing to her sounds horrible. You don’t want to find out.

“Y/N!” Peeta whispers loudly to you. His room is across from yours and you can hear each other under the door.

“What?” you respond.

“I overheard them talking about you,” he states. “The peacekeepers were talking about your treatment.”

“What about it?” you ask.

“I didn’t hear all of it,” he explains, “and it’s hard for me to know what’s real nowadays, but they said something about a timer going off and how they would make you crazy again. We have to get out before they hurt us.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask him annoyed. “They won’t hurt me. Snow promised.”

Just as Peeta goes to respond, the lights cut out again and peacekeepers enter the hall. They usually set up extra guards when the power goes out in case anyone tries to escape. Why would you escape? You like it here.

It must be an hour later when panic sets in. You hear a hiss coming from the hall and what sounds like people falling over. You don’t have time to think, however, before your door is opened and a canister of smoke is thrown into your room. Peeta was right. They are going to hurt you.

“Did you always love her?” Katniss asks Finnick as they wait for the rescue team to return. All communication had been cut off but the two were still holding onto hope that they would return safely.

“No,” he chuckles. “I guess she snuck up on me.”

“How?” Katniss asks.

“After her incident in the capital Snow killed her family,” he explains. “I moved in with her because she wasn’t stable enough to live on her own. We were scared she was going to kill herself and selfishly I couldn’t let the one victor I had brought home at that point die.”

Katniss nods her head in understanding and Finnick continues.

“I don’t know if I’d even call us friends when I first lived with her. She wasn’t thrilled I moved in and found me annoying, yet I was the only one she would talk to. She wouldn’t even speak to Mags,” he states. “Before Annie’s games my nightmares got worse. I would wake up screaming in the middle of the night completely disoriented. Instead of running or turning violent she would stay. Whenever I woke her up she would come to my room and sit near me till I fell asleep again. Something just clicked at that point and I knew I couldn’t live without her. I still can’t.”

“I never even told her I loved her,” he sadly says to Katniss.

“She knows,” Katniss responds. “And I know she loves you too.”

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[the-kr8tor]

could i get garlic cloves and a ❣️ for hobie? r is trying to sneak him somewhere as a bat. or maybe sneak him out of animal control or smth? -@thesevenofstaves

YEEESSS MORE VAMP HOBIE!!! I wrote this with IPOB in mind, I hope that's okay! Thank you, bestie 🩷

Pairing: Vampire! Hobie Brown X fem! Reader

Word count: 1.3 k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, Set around my vampire Hobie series (In pursuit of blood), CW blood, mockumentary AU, Wwdits AU, Fluff!

In Pursuit of Blood fic

Katy's one year celebration 🎉

“So yeah, that's how I found out that my great aunt was a succubus—” you stop talking suddenly, blinking, eyes roaming around the walls of Hobie's mansion. The camera crew follows you as you look under the couch and even peek inside the grand piano. “Do you guys fucking hear that?”

The camera shakes its head. You look at it weirdly, “you could just say no, Jason, like a normal person—” you gasp, “there it is again!” You frantically move books from the bookshelves, making the crew dodge oncoming hardbounds. “Is this a prank? Am I getting punk’d right now?!” You scream, footsteps heavy as you trudge along the big living room, tossing and turning things around. “Hobie! Where the fuck did you put the speakers you mythical bloodsucking straw!”

You suddenly straighten up, finger scratching your ear, eyes turning from confusion to amusement. “Oh you fucking idiot!” You guffaw, palm slapping your knees in laughter. The crew look at each other, not knowing what to do when their subject turns cuckoo. “Okay, I'll—” you breathe for air, tears in your eyes as you laugh. “I'll save you, you big ancient baby.” Nodding, you roll your eyes, “fine, I'll be subtle. No explosions, yep…wait not even a little? I bought this new thing from amazon— yeah okay, bye! Close the fucking link I don't want you in my brain!”

Your shoulders sag, smiling at the befuddled camera crew. “Good news I'm not crazy! That was Hobie talking to me telepathically and he— you know what, I should just show you what he wants.” You beckon them over to the front door while you put on your jacket and take your keys. “It's called the mind gift,” based on the producer's eyes, you already know that she was about to ask you the question. “You get old enough, you start getting different abilities. Don't ask me how, that's just the way it is with vampires.”

The camera hard cuts to you driving in your new kia. In the corner of the shot you can see the camera man's hand gripping tightly around his seatbelt as you drive recklessly, like you just learned how to drive yesterday. Or you just knew what a car is.

“Relax,” you say, smiling sweetly at the camera even though you pass a red light. “No one's even on the road this late at night. So calm down.”

Hobie's voice once again appears in your mind, ‘hurry up, love, I think this chihuahua next to my cage wants me. And it's not the hunger type of want.’ You snort at his comment. ‘Please? I'll make it worth your while.’ he says with flirty undertones, making you roll your eyes, cheeks warm.

The camera visibly shakes. The mic picks up a faint ‘I’m gonna die.’ The crew following behind you with their own van can barely keep up with you. They pity Jason right now.

“Okay, listen.” You start, the car is zooming past the road beyond the speed limit. “Hobie wanted to hunt some poor rich sap but,” there's rapid honking around you, “something happened, he wouldn't tell me exactly what, so he had to get out quickly and turn into his vampire form. Now animal control caught him at the park because he was too hungry to return to his form.” The car suddenly screeches to a halt, making Jason the camera man almost fly off his seat.

You park your car at an animal control center, the camera zooms in your determined face. “Operation: save my idiot vampire roommate has begun.” Your head quickly swivels towards Jason who seems like all the colour on his face has gone. “Don't fuck this up for us, Jason.” You point at his still chest.

You exit your car with the slam of the door. The rest of the crew follow closely behind you as you enter the animal control center with an uncanny smile that has the front desk worker perturbed.

“Hi, this might sound weird—”

“What's up with the camera crew, lady?” The man asks, blinking away the bright lights, weirded out by the whole situation.

“Oh, we're making a documentary.”

“About what?” The man brightens up, subtly fixing his hair with his hand.

“Uh…” you look at the crew for answers, they're not helping with their empty looks. “...About bats, yeah, bats. We're from national geographic actually.” You hear Hobie in your head ‘national geographic? Really, love? You don't look like the Steve Irwin type. Although, you'd look good in some khaki shorts.’ Blinking him away, you continue to convince the man. “And one of our bats escaped from their enclosure. You see that man over there?” Raising your finger to point at Jason, you accuse him as he stands there awkwardly. “His name is Hobie,” Hobie's laughter in your mind echoes. “And he's an idiot y’know, he's a nephew of our director so we just had to take him in. You get me?”

The man in the front desk nods, judging ‘Hobie.’ “Yeah, I know the type.” He whispers to you. “We have someone like him here too.”

You nod in understanding. “They're not the brightest, right?” Hobie's cackling laughter buries deep in your mind, almost making you laugh too. ‘you're making me have it, huh?’ Jason frowns at you while he zooms in your apologetic face.

Tapping the desk, you smile at the man again. “So! Our bat, please?”

“I'd ask for papers like usual but I'm too lazy.” Now it's you judging the man. “If you can get him from the back yourself without getting rabies then you're free to take him.”

“Yeah, okay.” You shrug, and you hear Hobie breathe a sigh of relief. Opening the doors, you're greeted by a dozen small animals, all angrily calling out to you. “Wow, this reminds me of my cousin's room!”

Your eyes roam over the cages, looking for a familiar bat. The producer points at a bat on your right, she has her hand on the lock but you stop her midway. “That's clearly not him. Good try though.” The bat squeaks, lunging at the cage, almost biting the producer's hand.

Hobie's voice calls out to you, then you see a black bat with large wings rattle its cage. That's Hobie alright. “Aww,” you tease, “is it just me or you look extra adorable right now?”

‘Open the bloody door!’ Hobie telepathically screams at you, continuing to rattle at his cage. Squeaking angrily. You guess that he's starving now that he has tossed being sweet.

“In a minute.” You say, pulling out your phone to take numerous pictures of him. There's selfies of you with the angry bat, and even a group picture of the crew and bat Hobie. With one final click of the camera, you finally open the cage.

Hobie comes flying off towards your face, clinging to you, claws holding on to you and his tiny bat body covering your entire head. ‘Thank you, lovie.’ He says in your mind, his tiny fanged face nuzzling you sweetly. The camera crew takes numerous angles of the whole ordeal. ‘Take me home, ‘m hungry.’

“Will you let go of my face first?” Your voice is muffled by his fuzzy bat body.

‘nah, you're too comfortable.’

“No blood for you then.” You warn, and it works as he reluctantly moves over to your shoulders instead. ‘Fine,’ he grumbles, squeaking disappointedly.

Waving goodbye to the front desk who again stares at you all confused, you have successfully rescued your idiot vampire roommate. Placing him on your passenger seat, he shakes his head when you coax him into turning back to his form.

Jason records from the backseat, eyes flicking from you and the agitated bat. He knows exactly what's about to happen.

“What am I supposed to do? Let you drink from me again?”

There's a bout of silence, and then Hobie the bat nods his tiny head.

With a huff, you give him your hand to bite into. “One sip, Hobie, enough to turn you human.” He nods, mouth opening to take a bite. You look over your shoulder towards the camera. “Cut the fucking camera, Jason.”

Hobie sinks his teeth into you just as the camera shuts off. But not the mic though.

[beaniegaebie]

i don't really have any solid conclusions about this yet but i noticed A Thing in a rewatch and i haven't found it mentioned elsewhere yet so here we go

(apologies for the appalling image quality you're about to see, i can't screenshot easily rn pls bear with)

OKAY so in the scene where crowley confronts gabriel about "shut up and die", something about the arrangement of book stacks caught my eye a little

the majority of the books are angled so that we mostly just see the page edges and not the spines clearly, EXCEPT for a particularly shiny and familiar colour combo right here-

but nothing too weird going on there, i thought, crowley coloured books in a bookshop so what? right up until i registered crowley's line when we get a closer look-

hhhhmmmmMMmmmm yes yes "everything just the way you wanted" huh, very interesting considering that we know how much thought goes into props huh

and for most of the shots we get of crowley in this position those freaking books are just quietly nestled right there in the corner-

look at that god damn framing i fuckin see you, you glorious bastards

so i paused to see if i could figure out what the hell was up with those fuckers and this is when i absolutely lost my mind, your honour

A and C you say?? in crowley colours???? framed like this?????? localised entirely within your kitchen???

anyway long story short they're two books from an Agatha Christie Crime Collection set (24 volumes, three stories per volume) and guess whats on the mfing front covers I'm-

(its a rant for another post but when paired with this other set of initials spotted in s2 i want to scream actually)

ANYWAY back to the books, through an absolutely unhinged comparison of the formatting of gold text blobs i reckon the two we have here are:

(on top) The Pale Horse; The Big Four, The Secret Adversary

(on bottom) 4:50 From Paddington, Lord Edgeware Dies, Murder in Mesopotamia

(I'm fairly confident but if anyone has a better image to confirm/correct this pls do)

now here is where I'll need a bunch of help from some Christie-heads out there bc I haven't read any of these and I've only seen the tv adaptation of one of them, so i dont know for sure if these are like A Clue, or A Cool Thing, or if I've just fully brainrotted myself into a fun lil corner here? wa-hoo

but here's some initial stuff that jumped out at me after skimming the basics:

(some of) the titles: Pale Horse/Big Four - death's horse ofc, the four horsemen mayb? the them+adam?? ; Mesopotamia is a very biblical choice bbz ; 4:50 From Paddington- azi likes trains i guess? idk that one's tenuous lmao ; honestly no idea with the other two but Secret Adversary feels a tad ominous

iirc Big Four just has kind of an unusual history, it was initially twelve short stories that she later compiled into one, and it was published fairly soon after christie's mysterious disappearance/reappearance

in Big Four, poirot fakes his death at one point and doesnt even let hastings in on it and I'm hoping sure its totally irrelevant to the ineffable bois

part of the Pale Horse story is a group of assassins that basically try to pass off all their murders as being actually caused by like ✨satanic powers✨ which is interesting

christie knew a fUCkton about poisonings thats why she wrote so many into her work and, while i don't believe the poison coffee theory myself, it sure is an interesting link with how cyanide is associated with almond smell/flavour and that metatron chooses almond syrup in particular

(ALSO random side note that is mostly meaningless but I've worked in a good few uk coffee shops and have never worked anywhere that stocks almond syrup; almond milk yes, hazelnut syrup yes, but never almond syrup...? prob just the places i worked though lmao)

EDIT forgotten point: I've seen some speculation that the bently's plate reading "CURTAIN" could be a reference to poirot's last story, along side that alternate scene of crowley ordering the sherry for "miss marple", its just one too many agatha christie references for my melted brain to handle and I'm SUS

so this is where i run out of idea steam and hand it over to you lot because i have no clue what this could mean, if it even means anything other than a cool set feature

is there something here actually or am i yelling into the void just for fun?

who knows, who cares!

[codnriddlewhore]

A/N: guys idk how to make thos links someone teach me plsssss and i hope u like this, i decided to post 2 shorter parts instead of 1 long one, felt nicer. next part is gonna be set some years later and itll be maaaybe a tad bit happier. dont hesitate to say anything, good or bad, mwah

wc: 965

She left earlier, of course.

The day after, to be precise. It was a slow and quiet morning. She felt at peace and torn apart at the same time. Can you feel that way? Maybe like someone that felt content with the way they lived their life, though now being stuck in a tornado.

Tom´s wife was sitting on the breakfast table with one leg propped up on the chair, wearing one of his jumpers and a teacup in her hand, smiling to herself and only having kissed him good morning and asked if he wanted tea. It angered him. Of course it did, she was always and every day the biggest chatterbox in the morning, excited about the day. He sometimes joked that it annoyed him. He hoped she realized the joke. He lived off her feeding him her presence. And who smiles like that, does he have a stain on his tie? Did she pack him heart shaped-sandwiches? I mean what else could´ve-

“Why aren´t you getting dressed? We`ve got to leave in-“

He checks his watch.

“exactly 13 minutes. I love you, but I know you wouldn´t make it.

She looks up from her tea, smiling again. He could sense it wasn´t the adorable type, it made his stomach turn. Something was wrong.

Well of course something was wrong Riddle, you´re ignoring the fact that you weren´t able to breath after the argument last night and that, you incontrollable child threw up all over the fucking bathroom you-

“Oh Minerva took the 2nd years to Hogsmeade for the morning, got 3 free periods.”

Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. You never lie to me, you´ve never lied to me- What did I do, please, I´m begging you to go back day before yesterday with me I can´t fucking stand this

Of course he knew what he did, though did it deserve such a reaction? From both of them?

She stands up, gets very close to him and musters a real smile, one that made her eyes really small and showed her gums. It took all of her willpower left to do so. For him, It made his before mentioned train of thought stop.

Okay, of course it´s still her. It´s his wife.

She straightens his wobbly tie, there was no need to do so on other mornings. Another look in his eyes, knowing she´s the probably the only person that will see the truth in them. The fear. The other wobbly thing in the room were his legs when she kissed him, deeply, not hungry, but lovingly and meaningfully.

“Be nice. They´ll love you”

“Pfft, absolutely, don´t they always?”, he didn´t want to make a joke in such a moment but I guess he felt human, wanting to lift the atmosphere.

In the years after, they´d both remember this moment countless of times, she grinning like a child that remembered their last cool birthday party and he as in the objectively worst choice of words he ever made.

It was time, she felt it in the air. She'd die otherwise. Her to-do-list was now fairly simple, though the circumstances added some points.

pack Cry Put music on to distract Sob Pack Unpack Sob Look forward to life Pack Leave her faveorite blanket. He secretly thinks it´s fluffy. He gets cold easily. cry Cry happy tears because how fortunate is she to have spent 3 years with such a magnificent person. Pack Write note Cry but just a tad Breathe. Make tea. Put a lid on his cup so it stays hot. Breathe Smile Leave

Tom came home early. Who fucking cares about the pre-OWLs, he knows there´s the quidditch finale tonight and no one will concentrate. 1st day after Christmas break, whose idea was that.

Was she still in the school? He didn´t see her, though he didn´t particularly go look for her, he knows when to back off. She sometimes “regenerated” in her own space.

He got comfortable in his house and went into the ki- Did he forget his tea this morning? Seems unusual.

a note.

No.

In a pace an Olympic fast-walker would be jealous of, he makes his way to the library and sits down in the old, brown leather chair. His eyeballs hurt from his palms pressing into them, a strategy from the orphanage when he was first mocked for crying, it prevented the tears wonderfully. Tom sat like that for a few minutes, his left leg bouncing up and down and increasing in speed.

No.

Abruptly Tom stands up and walks over to the bookshelf with her little detective novels and big encyclopedias on algae and what not. His shaking hand pulls one out, the title doesn´t matter. He stares at it. He smells it. It doesn´t smell like her, at all. Why would it? It´s just a book. Was she real?

From his mouth comes not a growl, not a scream, what is it? He simply knows he hasn´t made that noise in a very long time and it almost accurately described his emotions. Almost. Nothing ever really will, he believes, though he´ll find a word for word description of his thoughts many years later. The book is now in about 14 pieces, torn apart, unreadable. Something wet runs over his hot cheeks. The knee-part of his grey slacks is ruined by the wet grass. He thought he´d suffocate inside.

Dearest Tommy,

I think I said everything I meant last night, though my devotion to you is hard to word.

You are the most precious, wonderful thing that has happened to me.

I want you to accept yourself.

To see yourself as I do.

You´re too much of a gift to existence and love in general to reduce yourself to a cause.

I love you, my Darling.

There were a few more words in between, but the tear stains made them unreadable. He´d get to reading it at some point. Maybe.

[high-mackrels-musings]

Shatterpoint: A Mace Windu Musical Concept Chapter 1: Guide Us

A fun fact about me besides my love of Star Wars is that I love musicals. I have no musical talent whatsoever, but I still like the idea of writing musicals. And in the last few days I’ve had a rather silly idea of taking Revenge of the Sith and framing it as a musical, that idea eventually morphed into a musical set during the Clone Wars, but from the perspective of Mace Windu.

Mace is an often misunderstood character, especially from people who never read legends. And I thought this would be a fun idea for me to just have some fun with this. So, I got to writing an opening song for this, though as I said I’m not a songwriter by any means, but if anyone really wants me to continue let me know.

Link to song.

Chapter 2: A Leader

Chapter 3: A Daughter

Guide Us

[The musical begins, the sounds of blaster fire, vague battlefield orders heard, sounds of struggle as smoke fills the screen, intercut with lights of lightsabers and blasters. Three young padawans followed by clones enter. The padawans desperate and feeling overwhelmed sing].

Padawan #1 Come on my Jedi Can’t you see? We must hold the line For if we fall, the people die.

Padawan #2 There’s too many We’re surrounded

Padawan #3 There’s too many of them.

Padawan #1 Hold the line!

Padawan #2: We need another plan.

[Clones Fall and a Jedi does as well. A chorus begins to be heard humming. This chorus of Jedi will frequently return, they’ll act as a sort of Greek Chorus]

Jedi Chorus: So many fall So many die The young and brightest of our order In the name of peace and a republic That does not care.

Padawan #3

Retreat! We must retreat

Jedi Chorus: Untrained for war Untrained for this Meant for peace, but what is peace? Have we lost our way.

[A clone Commander appears, he runs to the eldest of the padawans.]

Clone Commander: The droids have broken our lines, Commander, what are your orders?

[The Padawan hesitates, and the clone grows more desperate.]

Clone Commander: What are your orders?!

[Suddenly a commanding voice sounds out.]

Mace Windu: Hold the line, Commander. Hold the line! (To the Padawans) Young ones, courage now—this is not the time to falter.

[The smoke clears slightly as Mace Windu strides into view, his purple lightsaber igniting with a resolute hum.]

Jedi Chorus: Master Windu, champion of the Jedi… Master Windu, where justice and courage lie… Master Windu, the shield against despair, Master Windu, a light in shadows’ lair.

Mace Windu:

Listen, young ones, the storm is here, But a Jedi stands, we do not fear. The galaxy turns in endless strife, Yet we are the shield, the blade of life.

Feel the Force, let it guide, Hold to the light, don’t run, don’t hide. Even in darkness, hope will rise, For the Jedi endure where chaos dies.

[The Padawans, emboldened by Mace’s presence, sing with renewed strength, echoing his confidence.]

Eldest Padawan: Come on, let’s do this!

Other Padawans: Master Windu, we follow— For the Republic, we fight, fight, fight!

Mace Windu (Inner Monologue): Meant to be a leader, meant to be a warrior, But they don’t see my doubts—my barrier. Could have ended this war before it began, Had my sword at the ready, but I had doubt… I’m just a man.

We must fight, change our role, But all of this war—it takes its toll. I see them fall, I see them die, My brothers, my sisters—hear their cry.

Jedi Chorus: Master Windu, guide us, lead us… Master Windu, hear us, teach us… Master Windu, show us what a Jedi can be, Master Windu, the strength of us is he.

[Mace Windu fights back, uses his lightsaber to lead and destroy battle droids as he gives orders the music grows quiet signifying that we are listening to his inner thoughts.]

Mace Windu: Jedi, follow my lead The republic will not fall, this is our creed Fight for the light, fight not for peace We fight for justice, this war will cease.

Padawans and Clones (chorus): Hold the line, hold the light, In the shadow of war, we fight, fight, fight! For justice, for hope, for the galaxy’s flame, We’ll endure, we’ll prevail, we’ll honor the name!

Master Windu, guide us, lead us… Master Windu, hear us, teach us… Master Windu, show us what a Jedi can be, Master Windu, the strength of us is he.

[The scene ends with Mace Windu standing strong, his purple lightsaber cutting through the haze, the battlefield momentarily stilled as the music fades into silence. The Jedi Chorus lingers as if carried on the wind.]

[superblysubpar]

🎵 " She's Seen All the Classics, She Knows Every Line" 🎵

Just once, I want my life to be like the movies. Preferably one from the list below. But no, no, John Hughes and The Duffer Brothers did not direct my life.* - Stranger Things stories inspired by some of my favorite movies of various decades.

Most of these are not straight "AU's" of the films, but more my love letter to them. I'm excited to share these, and I hope you enjoy** // My blog is 18+

🖤 no tag lists for this, as I don't really have a schedule or way to organize that

Hey Girl, Don’t You Realize

A Robin Buckley story inspired by the films Some Kind of Wonderful and Say Anything

You’ve Got To Love Her

An Eddie Munson story inspired by the films Pretty In Pink and The Breakfast Club

I Fell So Ceaselessly

A Nancy Wheeler story inspired by the films Heathers & Clue

So, Kiss Me

A Steve Harrington story inspired by the film She’s All That

Oh, But You’re Lovely

A Robin Buckley story inspired by the film My Best Friend’s Wedding

I’ll Be Waiting

An Eddie Munson ( and a touch of Steve Harrington) story inspired by the films John Tucker Must Die & A Cinderella Story

Bonus:

Holds You Captivated

An Eddie Munson story (with quite a bit of Steve Harrington too) inspired by the film The Devil Wears Prada

I'll Take You There

A Steve Harrington story inspired by the films Mr. & Mrs. Smith and Miss Congeniality

Baby, I'm A Wreck

A Steve Harrington story in a Spiderman AU

So Baby, Take My Hand

A Steve Harrington story in a Jurassic Park AU

I'll Seek You Out

stories heavily inspired and in a semi-Twilight AU | Vampire Steve and Werewolf Eddie

🖤Each individual story will have their playlist linked with masterlist

*paraphrased from the iconic speech Olive gives in the film Easy A.

**Because I am working on writing in my personal career, outside of Tumblr life, I need something not only for research and practice, but also for FUN. So, these are projects I will be working on slowly - I don't really have set deadlines yet or know if I ever will. They won't update by decade or character, just whatever I'm working on is the order they'll go in. However, each story will upload at once - not chapters spread over time, but as long "oneshots" typically split into two to three parts.