#mentions of
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not quite tuesday tidbit teases
it's probably tuesday somewhere and this just popped in my head and I wanted to share. what do you think? do we want more?
tagging if any of you want to share something 😘 @hippolotamus @eddiebabygirldiaz @messyhairdiaz @rainbow-nerdss @tizniz @spotsandsocks @daffi-990 @monsterrae1 @diazsdimples @watchyourbuck @wh0re-behavi0r @911onabc @chaosandwolves @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @rogerzsteven @epicbuddieficrecs @bekkachaos @fiona-fififi @wikiangela @exhuastedpigeon @the-likesofus @hoodie-buck @lover-of-mine @mikereads @jesuiscenseedormir @lemonzestywrites 💕
It’s just after midnight and Buck is going to bed.
He’s been saying this for a couple hours but YouTube had too many AItA videos and Instagram had those gorgeously edited food recipe posts and he doesn’t even want to talk about the doomscrolling of TikTok. But he had a day off and it was supposed to be with Tommy so they could take the weekend and go somewhere fun and romantic, but then Tommy had to work. Buck could’ve gone in with the rest of A shift. But it was nice to have some alone time for himself so he took time for himself.
His phone goes off with a call five seconds after he’s gotten into bed. It’s a number he doesn’t know. So he could ignore it. Or wait until they’ve left a message. But who would call at this hour for no reason? Or for scamming, telemarketing reasons?
So Buck answers.
“Buckley?” The man on the other end says. He sounds vaguely familiar but not enough that Buck came put a name or face with a voice.
“Uh, yeah? Who is this?”
“Mehta. Captain Mehta. Of the 133.”
“Oh, hey,” Buck says, automatically friendly and smiling. That makes sense now. “What’s up? Why the— why are you calling?” Why would he call in the middle of the night?
Why does anyone call in the middle of the night.
“Buckley,” he says and it sounds… it sounds… it sounds like…
They have him now. They’ll take care of him. Why don’t we get you cleaned up. He’s in good hands. They’ll rush him to surgery. You don’t have to worry. Let’s get you cleaned up.
Lets get you cleaned up.
Buck can’t breathe. His whole body is cold. Frozen.
He tries to get out of bed. He tries, but just slides to the floor beside it. He doesn’t make it any further.
“Buckley, there was a helicopter crash. Your team, our team we went to rescue the pilot. Your, uh, sorry, I don’t know what you call him, but your boyfriend? Life partner? He—”
Oh god. No. No, that’s not. That’s not happening. That is not what is happening right now. This can’t be a, Tommy is dead and I’m letting you know. It can’t be that. It’s not. They were going to—
They were supposed to have a romantic trip together. Wine tasting and some kind of museum Tommy thought Buck would love and maybe a visit to a hot springs up north and they were going to watch the sunset and the sunrise and—
And he can’t be dead. He can’t be.
“He’s alive,” Mehta says. “We’re at Cedars-Sinai. He’s alive, but. It doesn’t look good. He’s in the ICU now. He’s critical.”
Buck pushes himself up. Has to. He has to be there.
He barely remembers to thank Mehta or even end the call before he switches off his phone and runs out the door.
~
The drive is a blur. The drive is probably very illegal and he doesn’t know how he doesn’t crash, but he doesn’t have time to wait for an Uber or for anyone else. He runs as fast as possible to the ER lobby, and almost runs directly into Chimney.
Not almost. Buck crashes into him and almost knocks them both to the floor but that almost actually is an almost because Chim somehow steadies them both.
He’s pale. Shaken up. His eyes are red. He’s been crying.
“Chim,” Buck says as broken as he feels. “Chim, where— where is he? What happened? How did this happen? Please tell me he’s okay. He can’t be dying, right? That can’t be happening?”
Chim opens his mouth and grips Buck’s arms tighter, still trying to steady him. “Buck, we— we don’t know yet. It was bad, but he’s tough. You know that. He could be fine.”
Buck lets out a broken whimper and backs away from him. “No. He is fine. He’s fine and this isn’t happening. I just— Chim, I just found him. I can’t lose him already.”
There’s a flash of something on Chimney’s face but there’s movement around Buck, too. Other people. Bobby, he’s pretty sure. And Hen. They would be here. They would try to comfort him. But they don’t need to because it’s fine. Everything is fine and this isn’t happening.
It can’t be happening.
He can’t be dying.
There’s more movement and it’s all blurry, probably filtered through tears, but then everything stops. The world stops.
Tommy is right in front of him. Whole, alive, real, a little rumpled and there are bloody scratches and bandages on his face and around his arm. But he’s here. He’s fine.
Buck slams into him, throws his arms around him, and sobs as he clutches him.
“Baby,” Tommy says softly as he hugs Buck tightly, cradling him, comforting him, and Buck can breathe. He’s not frozen. Everything is okay. They were all wrong. Buck knew they were wrong. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Tommy tells him and holds him tighter.
Buck pulls back just to look at him. “No, it’s okay. You’re okay.” He takes a deep breath and smiles because Tommy is fine. He’s right here and everything is good. Buck touches Tommy’s battered face and caresses him gently. He’s bruised and also pale, and very soggy. It’s been stormy tonight. Another reason why Buck wasn’t all that eager to go out in it. “They told me— fuck, they scared me. I thought— I thought I lost you. I was so scared. I don’t want to lose you. He told me—Mehta, Captain Mehta— he called and told me there was a helicopter crash and my boyfriend was in the ICU and he’s critical and it didn’t look good, and I can’t— god, I can’t. Tommy, I—”
Tommy’s face isn’t good. It’s pale. Bad. Not smiling. Not relieved. It falls and he can’t even hide the devastation on it. He looks like guilt and death, and his mouth moves but nothing comes out. “Evan,” he finally says, barely says. It’s too quiet, too broken. “Evan…”
No. No, Buck doesn’t like that. He doesn’t want to throw up right now. And he just might. His heart is rabbit speed lightning and his legs don’t exist anymore and there’s an awful blackhole of apocalyptic world-ending destruction swirling and growing in his stomach.
Someone takes his arm. Someone needs his attention. He’s moved from Tommy’s arms because there is no safety or comfort anymore. There’s no relief. There’s no happily ever after, nothing will ever be okay.
Buck knows why Mehta said what he said. He knows who isn’t here. He knows who would have come to him and immediately comforted him.
He knows.
He knows what this is now. It can’t be that. It can’t. Buck doesn’t know anything.
Hen tells him. She holds his arm and says calmly even if it’s broken. Everything is broken. They’re all broken. “Buck. It’s Eddie.”
No. No, it isn’t. It isn’t that either. Buck really can’t take that. It was bad enough, unimaginable enough the other way. It can’t be this.
He’s already done this. They did this before. More than once. Forty plus feet of cruel earth and a whirling burst of metal and blood all over him.
Eddie’s blood was all over him.
“The helicopter went down and got stuck on the cliffs. He went in so he could pull Tommy out, and we got Tommy out,” Hen tells him, every word a knife stabbing through both of them. All of them.
“He saved me,” Tommy says, quiet and full of regret. “He saved me and went down with it. They thought it was stable enough. It wasn’t. They got him out after. But…”
Buck collapses to his knees on the floor and holds his head in his own hands as if he can somehow hold himself together when there’s no holding himself together.
It’s Eddie.
It’s Eddie it’s Eddie it’s Eddie.
Buck shatters like flimsy glass and sobs in all the pieces that are ripped out of him. What about Chris? What about Abuela? What about Eddie’s parents and sisters and friends and everyone else who loves him?
What about Buck? They can’t be BuckandEddie without Eddie.
“I need to see him,” Buck suddenly says to the closest person who will listen. “I need to be with him. Please. Please.”
There’s arguing that happens. Bobby yells at someone. Hen, Chim, and Tommy stay around him like a protective guard. Until someone finally agrees. He’s not in surgery, they can’t take him to surgery yet. He’s not stable enough. But he’s on a ventilator, life support. They warn him and Buck doesn’t care. He knows how bad these things can be. He’s lived through several.
They give him five minutes.
They’ll have to drag him out with an armed guard if they think Buck will agree to only that. But at least it’s something.
It’s something.
Eddie is mostly covered. Blankets, wires, tubes, IV lines, bandages. He’s paler than all of them. Slightly blue-purple, cyanotic. They tell him a few things but Buck can’t hear them. He just wants to be with Eddie.
Buck sits beside him and rests a shaking hand over Eddie’s hand, under the blankets where it’s trying to be warm. Buck would give anything to keep him warm, and alive.
Eddie needs to stay alive. He needs to.
Buck rests his forehead on the side of the bed near their joined hands. He would say something if he had the capacity to form words and sentences. The only thing in his head right now is, don’t leave me, please don’t leave me.
And that’s probably all he can say. All that really matters.
Don’t leave me, don’t leave me, please, don’t ever leave me.
(read now on AO3)
#tease tidbit tuesday#jenwyn wip#buddie wip#mentions of#bucktommy#but this is me okay lol anything and everything is about buddie#911#buddie#fic: if i should fall
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There were a lot of things Mike hated in life.
The demogorgon, and how it had essentially destroyed his life.
Brenner, and the madhouse laboratory El had survived.
How each and every one of his friends now did something weird--were weird, because flashing lights or fireworks or some stupid tune a toy horse played dragged up memories that made their eyes flat and faces hollow.
Most of all though, Mike hated how much they relied on Steve.
There was no reason he should be the person to call when it started pouring and no one wanted to bike home from AV.
Steve wasn’t Nancy, or Jonathan, or a parent--he wasn’t even dating anyone related to any of the Party anymore so what excuse did he have to keep hanging around?
(Even if Jonathan was always working, and Nancy was always busy with some club or homework, and everyone’s parents all seemed to be in a race of who could get back to normal the fastest…)
They should at least try to get a hold of other people, instead of constantly going to Steve first.
“Why?” Dusitn had scoffed at him the last time this had happened, feeding quarters into a phone and staring at Mike like he was the one being unreasonable. “I’m not gonna waste money just to hear your sister tell us no again when we all know Steve will do it.”
Which was perhaps the most infuriating part of it all.
That Steve would do it.
Show up and help them, even if he bitched the whole time.
Hell, Steve Harrington knew more about Mike’s life offhand than Nancy did, and that made him want to punch a wall more days than it didn’t. Why the hell was Steve so involved?
It was stupid.
Weird, even! They weren’t friends, (even if Dustin and Max and El of all people said the opposite) he wasn’t being paid to babysit, (Mike had double checked; going round to ask Ma Henderson and Mrs. Sinclair, only to get an earful of how wonderful Steve was from both.) he had no reason to hang around!
It didn’t make sense that Steve could be harassed into picking them up from school.
Would take them to get ice cream, or hand over extra quarters for the arcade. He even gave out advice like some kind of--brother that Mike had never wanted.
Above all?
Mike hated that when he needed someone, the number he punched in on automatic was Steve’s.
“I need you to come get me.” He said into the receiver, mad at himself and the world, but mostly mad that beyond the normal amount of squawking Steve did, he shut up and came.
Drove up in his rich boy car, stepping out and herding Mike into it like the rain hadn’t already seeped into his bones.
“You wanna tell me why you snuck into a bar two towns over?” Steve asked, long after Mike had slung himself into the passenger seat, arms crossed defensively over his chest.
“No.”
One of Steve’s hands went right to his hair, running through it before adjusting the mess he’d just made.
It was a nervous habit, and Mike hated that he knew that too.
“Okay, well.” Steve’s hand fell back to the steering wheel, clenching tight around it. “Next time you want to do something dumb could you at least come talk to me about it beforehand?”
“What the hell would that do?” Mike bitched, staring firmly out of the window.
“Not waste my gas for starters.” Steve bitched right back. “But I dunno man, we could have taken some bats and gone and wailed on cars in the junkyard and talked or some shit, not--whatever this all was.”
‘This all’ was accompanied by a wave of his hand, indicating not just the bar Mike had been standing in front of, but his general sopping wet state.
“You’d actually go to the junkyard with me?” Mike challenged, doubtful.
Steve made a face. “Did you lose your hearing in there? I just said--.”
“Why?” Mike interrupted. “Why the fuck would you come out with me?”
Matching his entire aggressive tone, Steve said; “Because it’s better than trying to sneak into the one local gay bar when you’re barely fourteen, Michael.”
And that?
Steve being oddly aware of shit he really shouldn’t have?
Mike hated that too.
“You knew what the bar was?” He asked, his voice coming out much smaller than he intended.
“Everyone knows what that bar is, except it’s more of a biker bar than a gay bar.” Steve shot back--which did actually explain about ten different questions Mike had about the place. “Also, language you little shit.”
Under his breath, Steve continued in a muttered; “I swear I’m going to start carrying around soap.”
“You cuss more than we do.” Mike responded, and if his own voice was a little strangled as he fought back the sudden swell of tears, then that was between him and God.
He was not crying in front of Steve Harrington, he outright refused.
“The point I’m making is that there are way better bars to sneak into. That one’s not nearly as welcoming as people make it out to be, probably because they’re sick of all the rumors.”
Steve seemed to realize what he was implying because he quickly added; “Not that you should be sneaking into any bars at all!”
“You’re not my mom.” Mike’s voice turned wet as he lost his battle with his throat, voice cracking as he failed to choke the tears back.
“No shit Wheeler.” Steve said, and at least he was good enough not to call attention to Mike’s crying.
If he had, Mike was pretty sure he’d just up and die of embarrassment, right there.
“I don’t get why you care.” He muttered, angrily swiping at his eyes.
“I didn’t keep you alive this long just so you could die of something stupid.” Steve countered easily.
Which was kinda fair, if you thought about it.
Mike very much did not want to think about it.
Any of it.
Ever.
“Are you gonna tell my parents?” He asked after a painfully long moment.
Long enough that Steve had begun fiddling with the radio, trying to find a station as they drove back that wasn’t wailing country or gospel music.
“I’m not a narc, so no.”
“Not about the bar.”
Now Steve just looked confused.
Probably because he was, because he was without a doubt the stupidest almost adult Mike knew.
(Not that he could say that out loud--last time he had, Max had made one of her pissy faces and then El got mad because Max was, which led to a break up, which led to Mike having to beg his way back into his girlfriend’s good graces while explaining that he hadn’t meant it like that.
“How did you mean it then?” Max demanded, and Mike wasn’t sure how he managed to dodge that entire conversation but he had, on grounds that untangling his own emotions regarding stupid Steve made him want to pull his hair out and scream.)
“What about then?”
“You know. Don’t make me say it.” Mike absolutely didn’t plead, even if it did sort of, kind of, sound like pleading.
Steve flicked his eyes away from the road to give one long, weird look at Mike. The same one he gave Dustin when he went off on a rant about Cerebro or Lucas when he started discussing the stats of different D&D weapons.
Unlike those times, Steve’s face cleared.
“Oh.” He said, blinking, and Mike could practically see the light bulb flash above his head.
Then;
“Nah.”
Mike waited.
And waited.
And kept waiting as Steve went back to searching through radio channels, as if that was the end of the conversation.
It couldn't be the end of this conversation.
Not when this was the part that was eating Mike alive.
He didn’t know if this was Steve repressing it on purpose or if this was what he had to look forward to for the rest of his life if he kept trying to figure his own head out, but either way, he knew he had a choice to make.
To let the unspoken part of today die quietly. Go unsaid, and remain unsaid, for all eternity--or he could let it out.
Shove the “gay” part of “gay bar” in Steve’s stupid, jock face.
Make him acknowledge it, even if it got Mike kicked out of the car, and who cared if it did?
Steve wasn’t the person who should have picked him up anyway.
The anger climbed higher and higher in his chest, tears and rage combining until Mike spat it all out, furious.
“You’re not going to ask if I’m gay?”
Steve didn’t turn to face him, but Mike saw his eyebrow cocking anyway, given how he was currently glaring a hole in the side of the older teen’s head.
“Do you want me to?”
“No.” Mike bit out automatically. “Yes. I don’t know!”
Steve’s hand found its way back into his hair.
“Okay then.” Steve paused, clearly fishing for something to say.
Gleefully, Mike watched him struggle.
“Do you like guys?” He managed finally, looking like he was navigating a minefield more than just talking.
“I don’t know.” Mike stressed, sinking lower in his seat. “Why do you think I was at the bar? I was trying to figure it out!”
“Honestly I assumed this was some sort of stupid dare--but!” Steve held up a finger, before Mike could interrupt, “But let’s--shit, hold on, I had a speech for this but I kinda wasn’t expecting to use it this soon. Um.”
“You have a speech for me being gay?”
“Not for you.” Steve rolled his eyes. “For--in general! It was an in general, just in case speech!”
He rounded on Mike, for longer than the younger was comfortable with given Steve took his eyes off the road to do it. “Okay--you can like boobies, you can like, uh--not boobies, and that’s fine! It’s all totally fine!”
“You are not making it sound like it’s fine.” Mike said, feeling like he’d been taken out by hearing Steve say the word “boobies.”
Gross, gross, gross.
“Well it is.” Steve said, in a tone that felt like he was two seconds from adding in a smarmy ‘so there!’ at the end.
“But I’m dating El.” Mike whined, which really, was both the heart of the matter and the eye of the storm that had been growing in his head for months now. “I can’t be gay if I like her.”
“Don’t you guys break up and get together like four times a week?”
“No, that's Max and Lucas, El and I are stable.” Mike scoffed. “Or we--we were stable.”
Before he started to have thoughts about people that weren't his girlfriend.
Or women.
“Stable for being in middle school, sure.” Steve snorted. “You don’t just have to like one or the other you know. You can like dudes and chicks at the same time.”
Which Mike did not know, on account of being fourteen.
He did his absolute damndest not to show that realization, instead adding that to the list of reasons why he hated Steve Harrington too.
Steve shouldn't be the one teaching him about who you could like!
“The point is that who you end up loving isn’t a problem.” Steve finally looked back to the road. “Other people might be an issue, and those people we can punch in the face so long as the cops aren’t looking, which isn’t part of the speech so let’s not tell people I said that part, but whatever you do choose, there’s nothing wrong with you.”
Steve’s voice went firm, as he apparently recalled his speech or something close enough to it because his next words sounded a little rehearsed. “You have people who are here for you, no matter what. Okay?”
Oh God, Mike was crying again.
He wanted to punch Steve in his stupid face.
Wanted to hold onto the fury he'd built inside himself. Thrash around, throw himself out of the car, get away from the emotions that felt too big for his chest to contain.
Instead he felt it all break on Steve's acceptance. On word's he didn't know he needed to hear until they'd been spoken, and sniffed out a quiet; “Okay.”
Steve of course had to take it too far by reaching over and patting his knee, which they both regretted judging by how quickly Steve took his hand back and the face Mike made at his hand--but it…
It was appreciated, even amongst all Mike's rage.
Steve was appreciated.
Not that Mike would ever, on pain of death, tell him that.
Neither said a word for a while, Steve finally landing on a radio that was playing some Top 40 hit, Tears for Fears singing about ruling the world while Mike found himself trying to rebuild his own once again, tired of it having shattered so many times over.
At least he finally felt better, even if he refused to admit Steve was the reason for it.
He wasn’t quite done though.
There was a piece Steve had skipped over, that Mike felt was critically important, if only because it was partly the reason he was having thoughts about being gay in the first place.
He had to know if Steve saw it too.
That it wasn’t just him and his stupid head, making up things that weren’t there.
“Hey Steve?”
“Yeah?”
“Who was the speech for?”
Steve sighed.
“Rule one of the whole queer thing Wheeler, you don’t out other people.”
Like there were written rules or something.
(Maybe there were, it wasn't like Mike knew.)
“Was it Will?” Mike asked, and pretended like he didn’t desperately want the answer to be yes.
Steve didn’t say a thing, but the fact he nearly took the car off the road was a pretty solid answer in itself.
“We’re not playing guessing games about other people’s sexualites!” He yelped, hands gripping the steering wheel as Mike felt a wave of relief crash through him.
Will was--maybe, possibly, also--queer too.
Which didn’t make this any better but it--wasn’t the not preferred outcome, either.
(It wasn’t just Mike struggling alone, trying to figure out if his best friend wanted to be more than that, if El was breaking up with him and more and more because she wanted to be less than a girlfriend, if things were changing and he would have no one--)
“I’m not out here picking Will up from a gay bar dipshit, I’m picking you up, and this is your reminder that next time, you should just come talk to me!” Steve ranted.
Mike snorted.
He absolutely hated Steve Harrington, but--
“Fine.” He said, talking so low he could barely be heard. “I will.”
--maybe Mike did have someone in his corner after all.
Even if it was just Steve.
xXx
Bonus:
“Between you and me, that kid is gayer than a two dollar bill.”
“Wow Robin,” Steve teased, “Isn’t that like, a slur or whatever?”
He snickered when she rolled her eyes and threw a roll of stickers his way.
“I’m just saying. Did you see the way he was looking at you when you were showing off your stupid biceps?” Robin said, nudging her shoulder into Steve’s. “Will’s gonna have a rude awakening later if he hasn’t already.”
Steve nudged her back, but kept his gaze on the Party as they trooped their way from Family Video to the arcade next door, the realization that they now had connections for free rentals making them downright gleeful.
Will was the last one in, and Steve watched him hurry so as to not be left behind.
He didn’t like to worry about the dipshits, but Robin was just putting voice to a thought Steve knew he wasn’t the first person to have.
And if he noticed it, then it didn't exactly bode well as being kept a secret.
“Should we like…talk to him about that?” He asked after a long moment, turning to face Robin.
“Us?” She pointed at herself, before turning her finger on Steve. “Why us?”
“Well you’re into girls.” He gave her a pointed look, glad that the store was empty of everyone but them so he could actually voice all this. “And I’m fine with it.”
“Yeah I’m sure he wants to know you’re fine with it.” Robin taunted, but she had her thinking face on, eyes out to the middle distance. “I barely know him. You barely know him--he’s the quietest out of all your kids.”
“They’re not my kids.” Steve argued automatically. “They're like a weird cross between shitty siblings and that kid in your class who never leaves you alone.”
A fact Steve no longer took for granted, even if he made it sound like the worst thing ever.
“I just think it’d be nice if he knew that he had people in his corner, you know? Who supported him and shit.”
“Steve, you compared my crush to a muppet, that wasn’t supportive.” Robin countered, but it too was on automatic.
Softer she admitted; “You’re right though. If I had known other queer people, if I had known people would accept me...it would have made things a lot easier.”
A very long pause, in which both of them stewed for a moment, before Robin abruptly slapped her hand down on the table.
“Okay, you got me. We're doing it, and I'm making us a speech.”
“A speech?”
“Yes dingus, a speech. I know you, you’re terrible when you’re put on the spot with this kinda thing, and trust me with things like this the moment will be spontaneous.”
“It’s Will, how spontaneous can it be?” Steve challenged back. “Getting a dinner order out of him is a chore.”
“Stop whining and hand me that notepad. Im telling you its gonna happen when you least expect it and then you're gonna thank me later.”
“It better not happen without you.” Steve sighed, but passed the notepad over.
God the things he did for those stupid kids.
Bonus x2
Steve would later go on to use the speech on himself, in a gas station bathroom mirror, eyes wide and freaked out after Eddie Munson called him Big Boy in a van they stole, while Robin snickered behind him.
He would turn on her, snapping that she; “Help me with this dammit!”
In return she’d remind him that Tammy might sing like a muppet but Eddie was the guy who stepped on lunches while giving speeches at lunch and sticking his tongue out, and “Really Steve, I think I won best gay awakening, here.”
Which would promptly start an argument regarding how it wasn’t a competition, which would continue for another fifteen or so odd years before finding its way as a reference into both of their speeches as each other’s best man.
Nancy and Eddie wouldn’t get it at either wedding, but Mike would.
#Mike POV for most of it#Mike is one of Steve's kids#and they both hate that lmao#pre steddie (its at the end)#this has both#mentions of#el/mike#and#byler#Mike's going through a sexuality crisis anyway#period appropriate language#Ronance mention#lumax mention#mike sneaks into a gay bar#that isnt a gay bar lol#let see what else#coming out#acceptance#a lot of sass#Title is Up and Down that Road#I love writing Steve like hes that older teen in the goonies#just suddenly saddled with kids while trying to flirt lol
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A/N: This wasn't supposed to turn into a ficlet, but everywhere you go there, you are! I firmly believe these two swap genders back and forth. Eddie makes them special pins.
I love the idea of Eddie being the dad, but these two are definitely platonic pseudo parents. They're definitely mom and dad vibing. At one point, they have said to the kids, when asked separately:
"Go ask your mom," Robin would say.
"No, ask your dad," Steve said, scowling. "You never help with the kids."
"Hey, I work and go to school. Is it so bad that I want a little time to myself?" Robin asked.
They continue on with the fake argument until the kids leave them alone. Of course, Eddie hasn't realized that Robin is the 'dad' until Eddie and Steve tell everyone they're dating.
"So, now you don't have to do this single mom thing by yourself," Eddie joked.
"Excuse me?! Single mom?!" Robin exclaimed.
"Uh, sorry, Eddie. Robin is our dad," Dustin said.
"What?! What does that make me?!" Eddie asked.
"Mom's special friend," Dustin said, growling and wiggling his eyebrows.
"That is your pseudo mother and my platonic partner!" Robin said, hitting him over the head with a rolled up newspaper. "Gross!"
"Okay! Okay! Fine, that makes you our step dad and Vickie, our step mom," Dustin said.
"What about me?" Argyle asked.
"You're, uh, the fun uncle!" Dustin exclaimed.
"Yes! Suck it, Jonathan!" Argyle said and pulled out his wallet. "You know, fun uncles usually give out money, don't they? Oh, wait, I spent it all on finding those puppies' new homes. Sorry, little dudes."
"I told you, those were baby squirrels," Jonathan whispered to him.
"God, I love our weird ass family," Eddie cackled.
#stranger things#robin buckley#steve harrington#robin & steve#platonic soulmates#platonic with a capital p#platonic pseudo parents#eddie munson#stranger things s4#joseph quinn#eddie stranger things#eddie munson lives#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#dustin henderson#the party#argyle stranger things#mentions of#rovickie#stranger things vickie fisher#fisher is her last name because i said so#the steve is a mom joke is funny because steve does act like a total mom#it will never be not funny#mama bear steve#he has a world's greatest mom mug#the kids got eddie a stepdad mug#he loves it#rueleigh writes#rueleigh edits
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Strolling in Starlight
A glimpse into the life of a single dad who's doing his best.
masterlist || pt
Content: Established Relationship, afab!oc, fem!oc, nameless!oc, she/her/hers pronouns for Satoru's S/O, singleparent!gojo, dad!gojo, Sentimental!Gojo, Mentions of Suguru and Satoru’s deceased lover, Pining (all Satoru), Satsuki doesn’t understand a thing her dad is saying.
A/N: Not Gojo showing off his powers to a baby as if they can understand.
Never Grow Up Pt 3
December 2012
“‘Tsukiiii…” Satoru groaned, stretching out the last syllable in her name as he pushed her door open. “I thought we were past this.”
Grumbling, he effortlessly picked his way through the mess of building blocks and plushies on the floor that he neglected to put away before her bedtime. (Infinity on auto was a perk he never wanted to be without; saved him emergency trips to the hospital because he was sure he’d stepped on legos hundreds of times by now).
Satoru propped his elbows on the edge of Satsuki’s bassinet and peered down at her scrunched up, slightly red face from crying. This was the fourth time this week — consecutive days of the house being shaken up at ungodly hours of the morning because of a screaming baby and her consequently turbulent cursed energy.
Shoko warned him about this… She told him some babies get into a phase at 7 months where they don’t appreciate being apart from their caretakers and that it’s completely normal, but it sure is a bitch to deal with. Usually, it wasn’t a problem, because Satoru rarely slept anyways, and he was — more often than not — awake and doing things. His concern was Megumi and Tsumiki. Those kids needed their sleep… And Satsuki had a pair of lungs on her. Wonder where she got those from.
“Princess, I’m all for you crying and calling for me, but we can’t keep waking up Tsumiki and Megumi like this. They have school tomorrow… I think.”
Satsuki rolled over to lie on her stomach. She was still crying, a little quieter now that her favorite person had come into the room to appease her.
“C’mere.”
He reached in and lifted her out of her bassinet, and held her at arms’ length. She had that ridiculously adorable dumbfounded look on her face that most babies seemed to have after they stopped crying — looking around cluelessly as if they didn’t cause disturbances just moments before. If he had neighbors and they lived in a smaller apartment, he was sure he would have gotten noise complaints by now.
Satoru brought his daughter closer and did the routine check he’d always done every time she woke up in the middle of the night since he brought her home from the hospital 7 months ago. Her diapers didn’t require changing, and she wasn’t hungry, so…
“Did you really just want to be close to me?” He teased her, tickling her tummy a little.
She squealed her answer and as she gave him her gummy smile, he narrowed his eyes.
“Are your teeth coming in?” He had the inappropriate urge to poke his finger in and feel around her gums, because those little white buds were definitely not there before. “Shoko told me you might be a late teether. You were supposed to get these 3 months ago.”
In hindsight, that probably explained all the drooling, the general fussiness, her awful habit of attempting to eat her fingers until someone brought over a pacifier, and her demonic urge to gum all her plushies to death. His clothes didn’t escape her either.
“I’m getting you a teething ring. I really should’ve, don’t know how I missed that.”
Satoru outstretched his hand and used Blue to draw one of Satsuki’s toys over to him. The movement caught the baby’s attention, and she squealed in delight as she followed the object’s path. How did it look to her curious eyes, a plushie flying across the room to land in her father’s palm? But it seemed she couldn’t care less after Satoru handed it to her. She grabbed Wanyamon and pulled on its ears. Her babbling and her attempt at motor boating (something she picked up from Tsumiki and Satoru) showered her father in drool.
Satoru snickered and watched as Satsuki’s face lit up with excitement. It must be another sight to see — liquid suspended in midair, drool kept at bay by Infinity.
“Okay, Spitter, now what?” Shaking his head, he pushed the small plushy back into her arms when it almost fell to the floor from her lax grip.
Satsuki crumpled the cloth in her little fists and put one of the ears into her mouth. Snickering, he kissed the top of her head and bounced her a little in his arms. “You don’t look sleepy, but I need you to go back to bed because it’s so late, and your mom will hate me if you don’t get the sleep that you’re supposed to.”
She stared up at him with big doe amber eyes that reminded him too much of her late mother, just as an idea popped into his head.
“Hey ‘Tsuki? Want to go see the stars up close?”
=OoOoO=
Beautiful star-studded Tokyo skies were rare to see, but it was a privilege enjoyed by the strongest sorcerer of the modern age. Suspended mid-air, 6,000 feet above the ground, Satoru strolled across empty air, stepping on manipulated space underneath his feet, walking through clouds with each step, carrying a deeply fascinated baby in his arms.
Not for the first time, he himself appreciated the blanket of stars above them. He was holding Satsuki up against his chest and shoulders and she leaned back as far as she could, turning her fair-haired head this way and that, little hands tugging mercilessly on his hair all the while.
Her excitement came in the form of babbles and squeals that sometimes sounded like they were supposed to be questions, and he nodded along.
“Bet you didn’t think your dad could fly huh?” Satoru smirked, gently prying her fingers away from the hair hanging in front of his face. She’d poked his eye one too many times for his liking by now. “Well, it’s not flying… More like… I’m manipulating the space around me so I can do things like this.”
A finely controlled red orb launched itself from the tips of his fingers. The ball of energy careened across the sky and dissipated after it disturbed a group of cumulus clouds.
Satsuki was murmuring things softly in a language that only babies could understand. She twisted restlessly in his arms and Satoru had to re-secure his hold on her lest she fall.
“What are you so interested in back there?” Satoru teased, turning around to stare at empty air behind him. “Red is not enough for you?”
“Da-da Da-da~ Dada.” She sang and giggled and swung her tiny onesie-clad legs.
As the wind continued tousling his hair, he readjusted the beanie on Satsuki’s head, so it covered her ears a little more. For some reason, she reminded him of one of those Kewpie baby commercials from his childhood — all wide-eyed curious stares and rosy cheeks.
“As I was saying before you interrupted me—” He booped the tip of her nose and she scrunched her face at him. “If you happen to have Limitless too, you could do cool stuff like what daddy did and show off to all of your friends. It’s going to take a lot more effort to master Limitless, or at least, use it competently without Six Eyes, but I know you can do it. You have me, after all. I’m the best teacher you’ll ever have.”
“Baboo!”
“Ow!”
Satsuki squealed and closed her fist around Satoru’s nose, giggling and smiling her gummy smile as her father made a face. He pried her hand off again, and mimed eating her fingers — making the silly cookie monster noises that he knew she recognized from Sesame Street. (He had his current students to thank for that). Her answering shriek could have woken Megumi and Tsumiki had they been in the house, and Satoru laughed along with her.
He held her at arm’s length as she continued to squeal and drool all over the front of her onesie. He spun around slowly twice, just to see how his baby would react, and she rewarded his efforts with a string of baby talk.
“Why are you so energetic at like two in the morning?” He wondered out loud, bringing her close again.
She wriggled in his hold and subconsciously wrapped her short and chubby arms around his neck.
“You don’t even know what stargazing is yet, do you?” He readjusted his hold on her again and patted her back slowly to the rhythm of ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ playing in his head. “It’s when people go outside to stare up at the night sky and try to find constellations. To be honest, it’s pretty lame when you live in the city because hardly any stars would be visible through all the light pollution. This is way better, don’t you think so?”
Satoru doubted the baby was paying attention to him as she stared up at the endless expanse of tiny lights above them — babbling and doing her own commentary in a language only she understood.
“Mhm, those are stars, Princess. We still can’t touch them from here, but we can see a lot more of them.”
They whiled away in the sky for a short time like that; father and daughter strolling together under a dark canvas dotted with billions of balls of gas, burning hundreds of miles away. He pointed out made-up constellations to her, naming them after people in his life — talking about how those clusters of stars looked like Megumi when he was reading a book, or how that particular line of stars reminded him of Tsumiki when she played in the swings.
It was weird, but Satsuki didn’t think so…
The wind continued to whip at his hair and his clothes when he chose a spot in the sky to stop. Carefully, he sat on empty space — next to a pocket of fluffy white clouds, stretched his legs, and crossed them at the ankles so he could lay Satsuki lengthwise on his lap.
Satsuki kicked her legs out and giggled at him as he held her tiny fists in both of his hands; playing a makeshift game of close-open-close with her short arms, while humming another nursery rhyme he was sure he’d learned when he was a child himself.
“Hey, guess what?” Satoru leaned closer a little and whispered conspiratorially after the second nursery song ended. “Your great grandma told me once that people who are gone turn into stars.”
Satsuki replied with a bunch of incomprehensible baby talk. She twisted around again to lay on her stomach, and Satoru was quick to pick her up and guide her into a sitting position on his knee instead, with his arms supporting her and holding her close for safety.
“Pu-pee.” She squealed and giggled again, curious hands reaching up to grab and tug at her beanie. “Da-da, da-da~ Da-daaaaa~”
Smiling at her unquenchable eagerness and energy, he slowly rocked her back and forth and littered quick kisses along the side of her face while he stared up at the canopy of stars.
“Do you think Mommy’s up there?” Satoru shook his head and chuckled. “I bet Mommy would kick my ass because this is actually pretty dangerous for you, you know. One slip-up and it’s ‘down will come baby, cradle and all.’ Should’ve brought the carrier. But eh… It’s fine.” He kissed the top of her beanie. “I won’t let anything hurt you. I’m the safest place you’ll ever be. Your dad’s the strongest after all.”
They listened to the wind as it sung a song of its own, and perhaps if he deluded himself enough, he would be convinced it was his Love coming to check on them momentarily. Yes, she would probably chide him for being careless and for bringing his daughter thousands of feet up into the air, but if she were here, he would have brought her with them too.
It had the makings of a perfect family date, didn’t it?
Just him, her, and their baby girl strolling under starlight — far away from the stresses of normal life and jujutsu sorcery.
“I miss your mom.”
Had Satsuki been old enough to understand, perhaps she would have heard how sadness stained her father’s usually cheery disposition… Perhaps she would have seen the way the light in his eyes dulled ever so slightly at the memory of the Love he had lost.
And yet, a fond and bittersweet smile still made its way to his lips at every memory that drifted to the surface. “I did this with her once. Took her up to Tokyo Skytree. She kept smacking me the first time I did it because I startled her. My bad…” He snickered and perked up suddenly when he remembered, “Oh! My teleportation doesn’t disorient you, does it?”
“Da-da da-da… Ba-boo~ Ba-bee!”
“Taking that as a ‘no.’” He sighed. “I miss my best friend too. His name’s Suguru. You would have liked him if he were still around. Suguru can absorb and manipulate curses, and he really had this cool rainbow dragon curse that he would bring out sometimes. Auntie Shoko, me, and him used to fly above Tokyo riding on that thing.”
And what a headache they gave Yaga too… Wandering outside of campus after class hours was generally frowned upon and heavily discouraged, but that hadn’t stopped the three of them from leaving their dorms in the dead of night anyway. He treasured the memory of those balmy nights full of late convenience store snack runs. They would hang out in parks after that, or sneak into izakayas. (He and Suguru were certainly tall enough to pass, and no one said ‘no’ to Shoko). Sometimes, they deliberately returned to campus when the sun was high just to see what would happen if they broke school regulations.
“There was also the stingray, but that one’s smaller and only fits one person.”
Satoru mumbled to himself, lost in the memory of that time when he dared to race Suguru. Which was faster? The stingray vs the rainbow dragon. Shoko thought they were ridiculous, but she played referee for them anyway — all while she rode atop another one of Suguru’s airborne curses, casually smoking her cigarette as she watched the boys cackle and try to playfully sabotage each other to get the upper hand.
A moment of silence followed, punctuated by the howl of the wind and Satsuki’s quieter babbling.
“Princess, do you even know that you’re born into a sorcerer family? Maybe you don’t understand yet, but I’ve seen you interacting with Megumi’s dogs.”
Megumi introduced them to her at Satoru’s suggestion, just to see if Satsuki would react, and she did. She patted their fur and crawled towards them. Satoru would go so far as to say she would have chased them if she had been capable of walking… Perhaps soon the house would come alive with the sounds of little feet pattering on the floor, pursuing shadow pups. Megumi didn’t react to it much, but Satoru caught him summoning the dogs with Satsuki around. He would read to her while she poked and prodded at the Divine Dogs.
Too bad Tsumiki can’t see the canines though…
Cheeks puffed out in disappointment, Satoru muttered, “It sucks that Tsumiki can’t see them the way you and Megumi can. She would have loved those dogs.”
“Mi-mi boo… Da-da da-da!”
He smiled and poked his daughter’s cheek. “Tsumiki is just like your mommy, you see. She’s a non-sorcerer, and if things go well, she can live a normal and happy life. I want that for you too, ‘Tsuki. I’d give it to you. To be honest though, I wanted to wait to have you… Don’t take this the wrong way, Princess, but Mommy and I weren’t supposed to make you yet.”
His Love’s panicked face after she’d confirmed her suspicions still felt so fresh. He could still see her in his mind’s eye — could still see the droop in her shoulders when she approached him and confessed, the pregnancy test held between her trembling hands.
“We wanted to get married after I’ve reformed the jujutsu world, and then we’d have you. But you came early! And that’s completely fine too.” He smiled fondly at Satsuki’s innocent face, blinking up at him. “At least now, you get to see me do it, and by the time you’re all set to go to Jujutsu Tech, it will be different, and so much better.”
Her smile slowly began to turn upside down and her familiar cry for attention pierced the air not long after. If she wasn’t in need of a diaper change or hungry, that only meant one other thing. Someone was getting cranky and that same someone was demanding her beauty sleep. Finally.
Satoru tucked her into the crook of his neck again and patted her back gently, readjusting his hold at the same time so she could snuggle more comfortably if she needed it.
“What do you say we make this a tradition? Just you and me. Like that idea?”
But his voice had already lulled her to sleep, and Satoru smiled.
“Sleep tight, sweet girl. I have you.”
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fanfic#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#dad!gojo#girl dad gojo#fushigojo#single parent gojo#mentions of#gojo x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x oc#gojo x oc#satoru gojo x oc#satoru gojo x reader#jjk x reader#wbad fanfiction
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Now whose fault is that?
#scp foundation#scp fanart#scp#scp shitposting#scp 105#iris thompson#scp 073#scp cain#mentions of#scp 076 2#scp 076#scp abel#scp able
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They were having a lovely cosy night. Some nonsense holodrama was on, the heater was blasting and Jedi Master and Time Traveller Plo Koon was idly scrolling through a pad contemplating a second glass of wine. From his own comfortable spot on the sofa next to him, his partner in time travel and Master of the Order Mace Windu sighed and shifted his feet of the caff table next to Plo’s own, not a moment before an alarm on his chrono went off.
Plo grunted questioningly at him, feeling uncharacteristically lazy and sleepy. The other man stretched as he stood up.
“Meeting with Cin about The Tournament” he mumbled back, gathering himself.
“Oh!”
Plo loved The Tournament. He’d missed it so much during the war, that first time round. The annual Coruscant Temple Sabre Tournament was something so special. Seeing aged Masters grumbling good naturedly trying to catch their breath, energetic young Knights teasing each other and Padawans gleefully egging each other on brought a sense of camaraderie and family that was lost forever once the war began.
“I’ll come with you” he decided, ignoring Mace’s surprised expression as he sat up with renewed vigour.
---
Plo tuned out as Mace and Cin Drallig, Battle Master extraordinaire, gestured at charts and catering costs on one of the benches in the corner of the main dojo. Neither seemed to mind his presence, Cin seemed unsurprised when they came as a pair.
While he left the boring logistics to the two senior Jedi he scrolled through the contenders list, comforted by the familiar names and intrigued by some interesting matches. It would be a lively affair.
He frowned, noticing something as he got to the Knights section.
Kab…
Kedib…
Kirin…
Krag…
He frowned further, checking the Senior Padawan section just in case.
Nope, not what he was looking for.
“Has Knight Kenobi not signed up for the tournament?” he asked loudly, interrupting the other two and not caring one bit. He got a pulse of mild irritation from Mace but interestingly, Cin simply let out a breath.
It wasn’t compulsory for every Jedi to take part in the tournament but there was certainly an obligation, particularly for Knights, to act as an example for their peers. To learn from each other and to inspire the next generation. It was just the Done Thing.
The Battle Master for the temple looked uncharacteristically perturbed.
“Kenobi…” he sat back and folded his thick arms, pausing, and Plo saw Mace’s face sharpen in stern worry.
“He’s been here… a lot, in the past few months. At funny times.” The scarred said, clearly picking his words carefully. “I’ve been helping him along, but most of the time I’m not here. I only see his name on the sign in sheet at all hours of the night.” He explained slowly.
Plo and Mace exchanged glances. That wasn’t good.
“Hmm. He didn’t sign up last year I assume, for obvious reasons” Mace asked with raised eyebrows.
Cin nodded.
“He’s changed his form since then, I’ve tried to ask him about it a couple of times but you know how he is.” He had a familiar look of exasperation on his face. Plo knew it well. When he didn’t want to, there wasn’t a force in the Galaxy that could make Obi-Wan Kenobi talk. Plo remembered it only got worse with age, to the infuriation of Sith across the galaxy that first time around.
Mace sighed and leaned back.
---
The Master of the Jedi Order cursed to himself under his breath and barely resisted the urge to grumble at nothing. He knew Obi-Wan somehow managed to function on dangerously little sleep (at all ages, apparently) but he himself had never managed to master the skill and his mood was as dark as the Courscant sky outside, at 3rd hour. Plo had offered to go, but Mace had a worrying suspicion it would end in a cuddle and a nap rather than what was necessary.
He was trying not to dwell on how suspicious he looked, loitering outside the main Dojo at this time of night, when his quarry came quietly and around the corner apparently deep in thought.
23-year-old Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi came to an abrupt and (rather comical) startled stop.
“Master!”
“Good evening, or should I say, good morning, Obi-Wan” Mace made no move to step away from the door to the dojo, but neither towards the young man in front of him.
“I…Hello there, Master. What…” the young man faltered, clearly still trying to find his footing. “What…are you doing here?” he asked cautiously.
Mace noted he definitely wasn’t at his best. Obviously not as well put together as he was in the daylight hours, there was none of the usual perceptive glint behind his eyes, his hair had obviously been pushed hurriedly into place and his robe was nowhere to be seen.
Mace shrugged.
“Shall we?” he gestured to the door behind him, entering the dojo.
Obi-Wan looked at the door dubiously before following.
“So.”
They stood in the vast hall, facing each other. Mace was very conscious they had both taken up sparring positions. So be it.
“So” he repeated calmly. “Do you want to tell me why you are practicing at this force-forsaken hour or shall I beat it out of you?” he asked politely with a smile, shifting his stance a little.
The young mans eyes narrowed.
“I don’t know what you mean Master, the Dojos are open all hours, surely encouraging practice at all hours” came the similarly polite answer.
Mace rolled his eyes.
“Fine.” He ignited his purple blade and assumed the opening stance of his favoured form, Vaapad.
“Come on then” he instructed the Knight. Obi-Wan’s eyes widened a little in surprise upon realising his mentor was serious, but then were filled with resolve as he too changed his stance.
And then immediately Mace Windu had the breath knocked out of his chest when, instead of the classic Ataru that he’d come to associate with the young Obi-Wan (indeed, the form he had become known for after using it to defeat Darth Maul) he was instead faced with the dramatic stance of Soresu.
He cursed himself, Cin had mentioned it but seeing it was something he had not been prepared for.
Lightsabre parallel to the floor and left arm extended with fingers pointing towards him, for a split second it wasn’t vulnerable, unsure Knight Kenobi Mace was seeing, it was the fearsome Master Kenobi. The Master of Soresu, and his comrade in arms. He’d seen that stance in the very worst of situations and every time it meant hope and determination.
“...Master?”
He was snapped back to the present by the slightly awkward prompt from the young man in front of him.
He grunted, trying to find his mental footing again.
“Not all of us are at our best at third hour young Obi-Wan” he grumbled, gratified when he got the ghost of a smile in response.
“Now then, let’s begin. And we will be speaking when I win” Mace warned, very clearly the Master of the Order.
Obi-Wan said nothing, his lips thinning as the match began.
---
The Master was gratified to see the young knight was panting a little as he yielded the match. Mace hadn’t won against Master Kenobi very often, in that first time around. It was good to know he still had some years left to enjoy it.
But not long, he noted. The young Knight was not there yet of course, but it he was good. Incredibly good for a Jedi of his level, using a difficult form. Mace was impressed.
“That was impressive. Very impressive Obi-Wan” he said, clapping him on the back as they both made to sit on the benches around the side of the dojo, Obi-Wan seemingly having lost the energy that fuelled his usual stubbornness, he allowed himself to be led by Mace.
“You’ve changed form.” the elder Jedi pointed out, cutting straight to the point. It was too early for beating around the munjabush.
“I have.” The young man beside him was looking at the floor as he answered. Mace felt the atmosphere in the room dip, the force tingling in his ears.
“Why?”
There was a pause. Obi-Wan kept looking at the floor.
Mace sighed.
“I hope you know, Obi-Wan, that you can tell me anything.” He said gently, projecting trust and safety at him through the force.
His young companion looked up at him with a watery smile. He took a breath.
“After Qui-Gon, after Naboo” he started slowly, seemingly choosing his words carefully “I kept trying…” he faltered, a faraway quality to his voice.
“Every time I started Ataru, I was back there behind the ray shields.” he said softly, looking down at the floor again. “After a bit of trial-and-error, it appeared to be a trigger for me, so I decided to change forms. Soresu seemed like a natural choice, I have a Padawan to defend now after all.”
Mace starred at him, finding himself once again at a loss. He knew Obi-Wan had changed forms at some point, but he’d never really given it much thought first. Lots of Knights experimented with new forms as soon as they were out of their Master’s shadow. But they generally didn’t do it incognito.
“Is that why you’ve been pushing yourself so hard? Coming here at all hours on top of everything else?” he asked, keeping his voice gentle.
His companion cleared his throat.
“It was difficult, at first. I didn’t…didn’t want anyone to know in case…” He trailed off.
Understanding dawned for Mace.
“In case you couldn’t do it.” He clarified, dismayed when he got a silent nod in return.
“Obi-Wan” Mace didn’t quite know what to say, working very hard to release his complicated emotions into the Force before the suddenly fragile man next to him picked up on them. Not least his slightly irrational anger.
“Please, please tell me you didn’t think we’d reject you or punish you because you couldn’t pick up a lightsabre.” He asked with a groan. The young man looked up at him in shock at the judgement in Mace’s tone. Giving him his answer.
“Er…”
Mace turned to him and shook his head in disbelief.
“Obi-Wan Kenobi, you are a talented, intelligent person who is an asset to the Order in more ways than I can list at this time in the morning. You are worth far more than your warrior skill” he took a breath, taking in the bewildered and slightly alarmed face next to him. “And I am sorry that that hasn’t been made clear to you.” He finished with a gentler tone, shame swelling slightly within him.
He felt a slight tug on his bond with Plo, the other Master picking up on the maelstrom he was feeling. They’d have to meditate later.
Obi-Wan obviously didn’t know what to say, and Mace was satisfied to let the words sink in for a moment.
“Do you think, perhaps, that it might be prudent for you to speak to someone about all this?” he suggested lightly. “We have an entire wing of Mind healers for a reason, my friend.”
Obi-Wan chewed his bottom lip, looking achingly young.
“I don’t know” he said slowly. “Qui-Gon never really liked…” he trailed off again, looking at the floor.
Mace rolled his eyes.
“Yes well, Force love him he was a good friend but Qui-Gon was a complicated man and let’s be honest, could be a bit of an idiot at times” he said, making sure his fondness for his old friend was obvious, pleased when it brought another watery smile out of his young friend.
“Maybe.” He admitted.
Mace decided to take what he could get.
“Please think about it. If you like, Plo or I could go with you” he offered. This time he did get a full smile and a slight eye roll in response.
“I’m sure I can handle it Master, I’m perfectly capable-“
“I know I know!” Mace held up his hands in defence “Just the offer is there.”
He stood up.
“Now then, time for bed I think” he activated his Senior Master mode, suddenly all business. “Please stop practicing at stupid hours of the morning, you’re making Master Drallig nervous. Sign yourself up for some proper tutoring” he instructed.
“Yes Master” Obi-Wan stood with a bow of acquiescence before they moved together towards the doors.
“Oh and Obi-Wan” Mace caught him as they closed the doors and stood in the silent corridor. “Do think about signing up for the tournament. You have a lot to offer.” He suggested.
The other Jedi hesitated.
“I…I will Master” he promised with a dip of his head.
“That’s all I ask” Mace reassured.
After they separated with one final bow of goodbye, Mace leant against the cool wall in relief, letting his emotions wash over him and into the Force, with the Force equivalent of a grunt from Plo down their bond.
He’d never known about Obi-Wan’s seemingly classic case of PTSD. And the obvious fear of rejection made his unrelenting quest for perfection and independence, that first time around, make sense.
But not this time. Mace smiled. They had a long way to go, but acknowledgement and mind healers were good, and Mace and Plo would be there every step of the way. This time.
#Space Dads Go Time Travelling#Mace Windu#Plo Koon#Obi-Wan Kenobi#Knight Kenobi#Family#Fluff#careful#Mentions of#PTSD#woops sorry this one got a bit long!
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Valdor(NSFW edition) + Yandere
Valdor x Gn!Emperor Shard (or rather, if Valdor assumes they're an Emperor shard.)
I bring MORE brainrot! My thoughts on nsfw Valdor, some yandere parts!
@kit-williams I bring another carcass to feast.
He's gentle. So damnably gentle. He would never raise a hand nor claw against his master. Unless his beloved is a Thunder Warrior or particularly hardy Astartes, he refuses to engage in penetrative sex at all, without far too much preparation, even for a Custodes.
He’s gentle. He doesn’t press. He doesn’t insist. It’s only a physical exertion for him, after all.
The Emperor made it so that he would never speak against Him. Instead, He put his tongue to better use. Have you ever been eaten out/sucked off by a Custodes while reigning on a throne, as he purrs, pleasantly swallowing cum with that same, obsessive loyalty, gazing up with nothing but worship, thanking his beloved reborn Emperor for accepting him?
Valdor insists on calling his beloved his Emperor. He calls them his master, his liege, his lord. His Emperor shard. He’ll use no other name. He’ll accept no other name, that broken mind of him will accept nothing else.
Laurels. He loves laurels. Or rather, he loves what they once meant, he loves the Emperor that wore the crown. Valdor will insist his beloved relive these memories with him, even if the memories were never theirs to begin with.
Only a servant. Only a servant, and nothing more. He obeys. Whatever his beloved wants from him, he obeys. He’ll listen to any command, no matter how degrading it may be for him. But never to hurt them. Never. Valdor would never hurt his master, of course.
Thrones. Thrones and worship. He loves to kneel. If there is any place he prefers, it’s upon a Throne, worshipping the body of his reborn Emperor.
Top or bottom? Valdor does not care. He’ll be whatever the Emperor demands of him. He could be used as a cocksleeve and cast aside, and he’d still thank Him for the treatment.
He doesn’t feel arousal the same way a human might. For him, it’s simply a physical exertion. Even sensations are different, they’re…more dulled. Less sharp, less primal, less human for him. He derives no pleasure from pleasure itself, he only derives pleasure from pleasuring another. Valdor’s a servant. He exists to be used.
Valdor doesn’t feel pleasure the same way a human might. He doesn't pleasure himself. The only sensations he understands are only satisfaction, and failure. He cannot fail. He will not fail his master. He exists to serve, to please and to satisfy. He takes no pleasure in anything, he finds no satisfaction except in seeing the exultation in his master’s eyes.
Valdor doesn’t care, so long as it pleases his master. He himself doesn’t need to be pleased. He loves no one, not even himself. But he loves Him. He finds pleasure in His pleasure, simple as that.
An Astartes, a Sister, a guardsman, it doesn’t matter. He finds pleasure when the Astartes that was the Emperor reborn gasps as he comes in his mouth, as hands skate across his neural interfaces, holding him close, the Custodian purring around the cock in his mouth, lapping at the warm fluid dripping across his immaculate features. He finds pleasure when she cries out, the Sister of Battle who had been so ready to believe she was the incarnation of the Emperor, when she pumps her hips into his face and he lets himself be ridden. Valdor finds pleasure when he is kneeling, grinding up against the pressure upon his hips, feeling the slide of skin against his, feeling his newest version of his master pleasure themselves with his body, coming apart in his arms. It’s not truly the physical sensations, of course, such primal instincts have been lost to him. But it's servitude. It’s his duty, his obsession, of doing well that brings him joy.
Finally, it’s not precisely masochism, this obsession with pain he has. But pain doesn’t deter him. It is only a sensation, after all, and a sensation Valdor has learned to associate with his duty being accomplished, with hurling himself in front of blows meant for his Emperor, as is the duty of a bodyguard. He’ll let himself be hurt in bed, without even the shadow of hesitation. It hurts, and so what? What if he enjoys it? What if he enjoys hurting, by his master’s hand? What if he enjoys being reminded he’s nothing more than a dog licking the boots of his master? What if, in some broken part of him the Emperor ripped apart so long ago, he likes the degradation?
Yandere
Sex. It’s one more chain to add. One more chain to keep them close to him, to make sure they can never leave. Won’t they love him? Won’t they love him through these expressions of love and adoration, the meaning of emotion and connections lost to him, but the act itself still remains? Valdor may not understand why such bonds are formed from what is - to him at least - nothing more than an exercise, but it’s a weapon, it’s a spear he can wield to drag them back and chain them to him, to chain his beloved down and make sure they can never leave.
In his hands, it’s a weapon.
~~~
Valdor would stand there, so easy with his dancer’s grace, poised like a perfect ballerina, body all lean muscle and elegance hidden beneath silk, waiting only for a command.
There is no arrogance in his voice, sonorous, confident, and heartless. No fear, no emotion, simply sheer, unrelenting duty. He was always a cold, cold man, but he is also a beautiful one, as graceful as a killer in the night.
He’ll strip if commanded to. He’ll fuck himself with any array of instruments if commanded to. He’ll set himself ablaze and slaughter your enemies and feed their carcasses to eagles, had he been commanded to.
All he waits, is a single word.
Slowly, without hesitation at all, a cold smile spreads across his lean features. His silk robes rustle as he advances, and slides into a kneel, bowing his head before you. The silk pools across his muscled limbs, hanging around his waist and torso. He holds himself with a ballerina’s grace.
“Your commands, my master.”
#warhammer 40k#wh40k#sculptor of crimson#warhammer#constantin valdor#adeptus custodes#warhammer x reader#adeptus custodes x reader#emperor of mankind#valdor x emperor#valdor x reader#mentions of#light masochism#light degradation#master x servant#yandere valdor#male yandere
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Forgotten Valentine’s
Robin walks into the break room, where Steve’s trying to get through an article in a magazine he picked up because even on break he’s bored. “Steve? Eddie came to drop this off for you.”
Steve perks up. “Eddie’s here?”
Robin snorts. “No, he popped in for literally like eight seconds, threw this at me with instructions to give it to you, and ran out again.”
Steve grins. “Did he run into the door?”
Robin grins back. “And cursed at it on his way out.”
Steve sighs happily as he takes the note.
Stevie,
Wear something nice tomorrow, big boy. I’m picking you up at 11am sharp.
E
Robin judges him with her eyebrows. “You two are the bane of my existence.”
“Uh-huh. And Nancy?”
“An angel and the light of my life and can do no wrong, shut up, Steve.” She sighs happily, the exact sound Steve had made less than a minute earlier.
He decides not to point it out.
———————
He does, actually, wear something nice the next day. Eddie does pick him up at 11am, Springsteen playing on the radio, which makes Steve grin at Eddie and lean in for a quick kiss.
“Okay, yes, I love you too, but I’ve got plans, sweetheart, and those plans do not involve getting sidetracked by those lips of yours. Which should be legally classified as a weapon, ‘cause damn, baby.”
Steve just laughs, so in love. “You’re so weird.” He means I love you, and they both know it, so Eddie just shoots him a toothy grin in response.
He takes Steve to a wildflower field. “I considered just getting you flowers, but then I figured this would mean even more, right? So. Tell me what you want. Or pick them yourself, even.” He grins and stretches to grab actual gardening shears and twine from the backseat.
“I’m in love with you,” Steve informs him. Eddie does the thing with his eyebrows where his expression gets all melty.
“I’m in love with you, too,” he says softly, then grins again and shoves the shears into Steve’s hands. “Start pickin’, sweetheart.”
Steve laughs, grabs the shears, and runs out of the car.
After they’ve collected almost a full bouquet—and run for their lives from a bee from an ill-picked flower—they tumble back into the car, love-drunk and giggly, before Eddie manages to collect himself.
“Okay, wow, I’m starting to think buying the flowers would’ve been worth it,” he teases, and Steve just laughs at him. “Anyways. Um. How does a movie sound? I know it’s not necessarily super romantic or whatever but I feel like we could use some down time.”
“Sure,” Steve laughs. “Your place or mine?”
“Mine work for you?”
“Always,” Steve promises, and Eddie’s eyebrows do the thing again, so he reaches to grab Eddie’s right hand and run his thumb over the knuckles.
They head back to the trailer, find a vase for the flowers, and cuddle in closer than absolutely necessary for the movie.
Eddie sneaks away halfway through, citing bathroom. Steve catches on the first time he drops something in the kitchen, but doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even move, just keeps his eyes firmly fixed on the TV.
Dinner is delicious, and romantic as hell, because Eddie somehow found candles somewhere, and they don’t match but that isn’t the point, not when he’s looking at Steve with his heart in his eyes and on his sleeve.
They have spaghetti, and Eddie references that one scene from The Lady and the Tramp, and now Steve’s got his heart in his eyes, and on his sleeve, and they laugh like kids as they try—and fail miserably—to recreate the scene.
It ends with spaghetti sauce splattered on their faces and shirts and the table and somehow the wall. Steve immediately blames Eddie. Eddie just kisses him, which works really well to shut him up.
“Not that I don’t love all this,” Steve starts, surveying the table with a grin, “but is there an occasion or is this just ‘cause? Because this feels like an occasion type of thing.”
An expression flickers across Eddie’s face, there and gone before Steve has time to study it, to figure out what it means. “Just ‘cause, sweetheart, what, I can’t dote on my boy every now and again?”
Steve laughs, pulling him in by the neck to place a sweet kiss to Eddie’s lips. “I’ll never say no to that.”
———————
“Oh my god, Steve,” Robin says the next day. “You’re not gonna believe what Nancy did for me yesterday.”
Steve raises an eyebrow, slightly surprised that they’d both gone on dates, then immediately thinks weirder has happened and puts it out of his mind. “Tell me.”
“Okay, so I get home and there’s a note, and oh my god why are she and Eddie the same, or maybe we’re the same, which we are, but anyways. There’s just a place and time. So I get ready, because I might not know what she’s planning but I know she’s planning something, and I drive over, and it’s the Quarry, and she made me an entire fucking picnic.” She stares at him, wide-eyed, palms flat on the counter as she leans forward. “So we eat, and she has flowers, of course, it’s Valentine’s, and she was so fucking sweet, and then-”
Steve feels like an entire bucket of ice water has been poured on his head. “Wait,” he says, and oh, God, how could he forget, and that’s what the face was about yesterday- “Robs, oh my God, I’m the worst boyfriend in the history of the world, fuck.” He grips his hair with both hands, feels hot tears pricking in his eyes. Shuts them and hisses out again, “fuck.”
“Whoa,” Robin says, “okay, that’s… quite the generalization, bud, and also if it has to do with Eddie, he’s, like, ass over tits for you, I seriously doubt you could fuck up that bad-”
“I forgot,” he whispers, and she shuts up. “I forgot yesterday was Valentine’s. I- fuck, Robs, I gotta go, I gotta-”
“Steve,” Robin says, stopping his spiraling with two firm hands on his shoulders. “Calm down, or I’m stealing your keys. You can’t drive like this. Take a breath. Eddie’s not gonna hate you, okay?”
Steve takes a breath. Another. “But I forgot-”
“I know. And I’m willing to bet Eddie knows. Did he act at all different yesterday?”
“No… no, I mean, he made a face when I asked what everything was for, but then it was gone so quickly I thought I imagined it, and Robs, holy fuck, I don’t deserve him.”
Robin chuckles. “I think you two dinguses exactly deserve each other, actually. Take a breath and go talk to him. If Keith asks I’ll make something up, you know I’m good at that. Clock out, actually, don’t come back, I’ll tell him food poisoning or something. Take your boy on a date, Steve.”
“Okay,” he breathes, then nods. “Okay. I will. Thanks, Robbie.” He presses a kiss to her forehead and runs out.
———————
“You fucker,” Steve says loudly as soon as he’s in the trailer, accusing finger pointing at Eddie, who raises his hands like a kid with a cookie jar and crumbs on their face.
“I don’t know what I did, but I apologize.”
“No, shut up, you don’t get to do that, you don’t get to plan a Valentine’s date for me and then not tell me! Fuck! Eds, I’m so sorry.” He deflates, hand coming down and shoulders slumping. “I wish I could tell you I had something planned, but I didn’t. And I know there’s ways for me to remember, there’s calendars and sticky notes and shit, and I didn’t do any of that and I have no one to blame but myself and I’m sorry.”
Eddie stands, walking over to Steve to pull him into a hug. “Darling, I need you to listen to me on this, okay?” He asks seriously, pushing Steve’s head back to drop a kiss to his forehead. “I don’t care.” He waits until Steve’s brow begins to furrow before continuing. “I don’t care that you forgot. I don’t care that there might be ways to help you remember. I like you for you, not for whatever mask you wore in high school, even if I did have an embarrassing crush on you back then. Point is I’m here for you now, and the you that I’m in love with sometimes forgets some things. Who cares? Not me. I’ll never care. Every day with you is an adventure, Stevie. All the big dramatic love confessions in those romance movies you like so much are basically wedding vows, I know you know this, and there’s a reason sickness and health are in there. Sickness is as low as a person can get. Once you’ve seen them sick, you’ve seen them hurt and upset. If you can love them then, you can love them. And I’ve seen you in sickness, sweets. There’s nothing you can do to make me love you any less. There’s nothing you can do to make me regret going all out for something that made you happy, even if the reason behind it has to shift.”
Steve blinks back tears. “I hate you.”
“Mhm. Love you too. Give me a kiss, sweetheart.”
He does, pressing in close, keeping it closed-mouth but pouring in all his devotion until Eddie feels like he’s drowning in it.
“Whoa,” he murmurs when they pull back, then grins at Steve, keeping him close. “What’d I tell you, about your lips, they’re dangerous, sweets.”
“Shuddup,” Steve says, and buries his face in Eddie’s chest. “I love you so much.” He pulls back suddenly. “Robin gave me the rest of the day off, because she’s the best platonic soulmate ever, and if you’re not busy, can I take you on a date?”
“Steve,” Eddie starts, and Steve will never get over the way that Eddie just says his name. He’s so whooped. “Is this to make up for yesterday?”
Steve shakes his head. Eddie gives him a look. Steve hesitantly nods.
Eddie sighs and rests their foreheads together. “You don’t need to do that, baby.” At one point they started swaying together, and now they’re dancing in the kitchen to no music, and Steve could cry with how in love he is.
“But… you did all that, and didn’t even mention it when I forgot, and Robin says we deserve each other but I kinda feel like you’re a better man than I will ever be-”
“Steve,” Eddie says again, punctuating it with a kiss. “I’m serious. I don’t need it. You don’t need it. C’mon, c’mere, we can have a date right here, there’s a pizza in the freezer and I have movies, c’mon, just come sit with me. This is date enough for me.”
“Eds, c’mon, it’s not just a date-”
“Says who?” Eddie asks. He’s grinning like he knows Steve doesn’t have an answer. He’s right, but still.
“Eddie. It’s Valentine’s.”
“Yup. I know you love it, sweetheart, but it kinda goes against the Munson Doctrine.”
“I thought you did away with that when you kissed me.”
“Pretty sure you kissed me,” Eddie says on reflex, like he does every time. “But my point still stands. It’s nothing but a ploy to make people buy overpriced shit to make themselves feel better about themselves and their love life or lack thereof. I refuse to participate.”
Steve pauses. Grins. “Today’s the fifteenth.”
“That’s correct.”
“Candy’s discounted right now.”
“Fuck,” Eddie whispers, then starts laughing. “Alright, sweetheart, let’s go buy me candy. But that’s it. Then we’re coming back and watching a movie, deal?”
Steve grins, bright and happy and in love, as he leans in for a kiss. “Deal.”
#stranger things#Steddie#Steddie Valentine’s#valentine’s day#steddie fic#steddie kiss#Steve has head trauma and Eddie understands#Robin isn’t paid enough for this#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#mentions of#nancy wheeler#ronance#but on the side#I don’t know what this is#but I hope y’all like it!#I felt that it was fitting I’d post it the day after#starambles
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Theory and Analysis
The Legacy of the Shroud and Draconia Families: The Prodigy and the Miracle
I haven't posted anything in ages, but in the span of a day, I have caught up to everything happening in TWST. All I could say is -
Wow.
Should I miss or incorrectly put the lore, feel free to correct me.
Warning: Spoilers, long post, language, and crude humour.
Without further ado, let's get into the post. All credits belong to their owners.
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The Shroud clan
The Shrouds have been in existence for a really long time. Their ancestor was "appointed a Gatekeeper back in the age of gods and goddesses." Let's assume that was thousands of years ago. Due to this task of essentially keeping the balance in TWST World, Tartarus was built, and henceforth S.T.Y.X was 'formed' about 100 years ago.
Due to their long history, the Shrouds are rich, rivaling the Al-Asims in terms of wealth. According to Vil, they are a branch of Jupiter Enterprises. An influential conglomerate that essentially built Google Chrome, or maybe Facebook, and Amazon of TWST.
The Shrouds reside on the Island of Woe. It is not on any map, therefore it is completely hidden from the public due to the fact it is literally built under the sea.
For the secret organization, Lillia said that a legend goes like this, "When a wizard forgets themselves and succumbs to their own power, punishment from the Island of Woe shall befall them."
The Shrouds are tasked with such a heavy job that about a hundred years ago, they were cursed, preventing them from escaping their duties. This curse manifested in their flaming blue hair, burning off accumulated blot. But if there's no blot to burn, the curse instead eats their magical energy. That's why the Shrouds, especially Idia having inherited the curse from his father, must now be in constant close state of OB to survive.
Idia's grandmother, Aidne/Idone Shroud, is known to have this curse. Both her and her son, Mr. Shroud are using magical devices to combat it.
The Shroud Prodigy and Tragedy
Idia is a prodigy. Born a genius in the Island of Woe. As a child his intellect far surpasses the adult researchers at S.T.Y.X. With this impressive show of his potential, his fate is sealed: Idia will become the next head of the Shroud family.
Ortho's life is a tragedy. He was born, and then he died. Then he was reborn again as a humanoid robot that Idia created while in complete isolation for 2 years. Complete with the 'real' Ortho's memories, personality, and appearance.
This is Idia's way of coping with the guilt that consumes him. Blaming himself for his only brother's death.
Why wouldn't Mama and Papa Shroud do something about this?
I like to think that they did try to console Idia. From the looks of it, they do love their children equally. But they also have to grieve too. They also suffer the same guilt Idia feels because suddenly the portal that they're supposed to monitor as the Director and Chief Engineer of S.T.Y.X breaks open, resulting in the death of their younger son. [But I think Idia's unique magic has something to do with the incident.]
It is important to note that Mama and Papa Shroud treat 'Ortho' as their real child, not a replacement of their dead son. With the events ending in Ignihyde chapter, Ortho is on his way to becoming his own person.
Combining his brother's 'death', the responsibility of running S.T.Y.X in the future, the constant state of near OB just to stay alive, and the isolation made Idia the genius, foul-mouthed, introvert prodigy dorm leader of Ignihyde.
As of Diasomnia chapter, Papa and Mama Shroud, the Director and Chief Engineer of S.T.Y.X respectively, are trying to get in touch, or are now in touch, with Queen Maleficia, Malleus' grandmother.
The Draconia family
The Draconias are nocturnal fae, tracing back their long lineage to dragons. They all possibly have horns protruding from their heads. Their lifespans can go on for centuries. A Draconia will reach adulthood at the age of 1,000 years old. That lifespan is longer than the kind of fae like Lilia.
Simplified:
If Malleus reach 1,000 years old, he'll be only known as an adult Draconia, but for Lilia, 1,000 years is his whole lifespan.
In the current events of TWST, we only know 3 Draconias so far.
Queen Maleficia, Princess Mallenoire/Malenoa, and the only known male heir, Malleus.
Not much is known about them, except the current queen (has been for a long time) is Queen Malefecia, the grandmother. She adopted Lilia and Levan, the father of Malleus and Princess Malenoa's husband. The royalty in Briary Valley is complete with senators, dukes, royal guards, and is just basically a monarchy of faes.
The Draconias, and most fae creatures, reside in Briar Valley. There are forests that are pitch black, giving an advantage to nocturnal faes, like Lilia. It is also rich in magical minerals.
In Diasomnia chapter, Malleus put up a barrier of thorns that is going around or extending throughout Sage Island, essentially marking it as his domain, and everyone in this domain will remain asleep, dreaming. It is worth noting that Malleus is said to be one of the top strongest mages, as evidenced by this:
"S.T.Y.X. together with the Magical Force, and the Briar Valley’s royal family attempted to break into Malleus Draconia’s domain, but… "
"Neither physical nor magical attacks could make a dent."
"The thorns do not discriminate between humans and fae, and anyone attempting to enter just get sucked into the field."
Because he's a fae, he gets energy from his surroundings. Therefore if Malleus' keeps extending his barrier, he will get stronger. Heed that not even Queen Maleficia can get through the barrier her grandson had created. With this scenario, it effectively puts Malleus, a little bit stronger than her.
The Draconia Miracle
I contemplated saying the Draconian Miracle but either way is fine.
If we are to consider Malleus as a miracle manifest in itself, let's first look at the way he was born.
The prelude of Malleus' birth is chaos.
During or even before he emerged from his shell, Briar Valley is going through a fae-human war. Starting when the humans started populating and abusing the place. Note that their population started with only a small sailing ship, and throughout the years they multiplied.
Princess Mallenoire/Malenoa/Mallenoa is the mother of Malleus, and she, by far is the strongest defense of the land, as said by Lillia.
But before Malleus can even crack the shell, his mother is already gone. Going by the angst route, let's assume she died protecting her egg that houses her son.
Makes you wonder how brutal the fight must be to 'kill' a mother dragon protecting her only child.
Levan/Revern, a raven fae or a dragon duke in some sources, is his father. He is a diplomat of Briar Valley, therefore his task falls into making allies, not enemies.
Yet, he did not return.
It is presumed that he died in an ambush, or possibly has a new identity. If he is alive it is cruel for him to not come back to his unhatched son. I am not saying Crowley is Malleus' father but there's a chance that Crowley is related to the Draconias, in one way or another.
Now, why is Malleus considered a miracle?
Because he was born against all odds. His birth is a highly impossible event, yet it did happen.
Due to his parents' absence, this effectively made the hatching of Malleus uncertain. Dragon eggs can hatch within 2-3 years of laying if showered with love and cared for.
[ This part is taken from the accounts of Lilia's dream in the Diasomnia chapter, where Silver is also surprised by the huge gap of the war and the dragon heir's birth.]
Malleus' birth is delayed by 200 years, because he has no one to care for him. It is truly pitiful that even before his birth, Malleus is abandoned.
Why wouldn't Queen Maleficia love her unhatched grandson? Is her love and power not enough to hatch Malleus?
I bet she did, but she also has grieve the death of her only child. On top of that, she has to be strong because she's a queen of a country. Any sign of weakness can mean the humans threatening her or even one of the faes betraying them, putting her family and the nation in danger.
The thought of the Draconia bloodline ending with her likely filled her with depression. Also, Queen Maleficia is not Malleus birth mother, only his grandmother. So that is not enough for a dragon egg to hatch, since it needed the love from his birth parents. I like to think that this part is where Lilia, as his caretaker will come in. Lilia's loyalty to Draconias extended to Malleus, softening the heart of the war-torn general, enough that he had the sympathy to adopt a human child.
It took 200 long years for Malleus to emerge from his egg shell and when he did, Briar Valley celebrated his birth. Matter of fact, his birthday is a public holiday.
Defying the odds is another powerful instance why Malleus is born to be a king faes, the valley and the abyss.
The parallels between Idia (the prodigy) and Malleus (the miracle)
[Is it me or they both look good?!]
Both Malleus and Idia grew up in isolation.
Literally.
[Island of Woe and Briary Valley are two places in the middle of seven-knows-what. Anyway...!]
With Malleus as the only heir, and Idia as the first born, they both have huge responsibilities on their shoulders. We're talking about responsibilities scaling nations and the safety of huge populations.
Idia's childhood is tragic with the death of his brother. But we can argue that Malleus' childhood is tragic too, with the disappearance of his parents.
Malleus grew up isolated and protected in the castle. His only confidant for decades is Lilia, his caretaker. And even then, Malleus said that Lilia is prone to going away for long periods of time.
For Idia, his only companion for the 2 years he locked himself in his room is the prototype of Ortho that he's building.
Idia represents the uncanny future, and Malleus represents the eerie past.
Think of it this way, if you put Malleus in Island of Woe where everything is about technology, I bet he will say something about the importanc of the past and teleport back to his place.
If you put Idia in Briar Valley... man's not even going to survive the night. He will lament his poor WiFi connection.
They compliment each other well: One doesn't want to be approached and the other is unapproachable.
Both Idia and Malleus are some of the loneliest students in NRC. Idia doesn't have social cues, and Malleus... doesn't have good social cues either.
They're both so awkward when interacting with others it becomes endearing.
As awkward as they are, both are arrogant too. Every time Idia regards himself as the acting leader of S.T.Y.X and Malleus as the future king, sends a thrill or.pride to whoever can hear them. [Go forth children! Be the leaders of the TWST world.]
And they will be leaders. As heavy as the mantle of Shroud and Draconia is, Idia and Malleus will have no choose but to shoulder on. That's why I think the battle between (yuu), Idia along with NRC against Malleus will be tragically beautiful.
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Fun fact: Hades tried to ask Maleficent out in a date once, lol.
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There's a reason why all of a sudden the story of TWST started to become more serious in the Ignihyde chapter and just hit the fan in Diasomnia. Soon, were about to find out why.
Idia and Malleus are the complete opposite yet their existence compliments each other so well.
One is a keeper of the underworld, and the other the blessing of maleficence.
And then there's Yuu, trying to uncover the secrets of Twisted Wonderland.
#twisted wonderland#malleus draconia#idia shroud#twst malleus#twst idia#ortho shroud#twst ortho#twisted wonderland analysis#twisted wonderland theory#diasomnia#ignihyde#mentions of#lilia vanrouge#twst lilia#s h u#twst#disney twst
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Now I know I swore for a fic but dammit did Tumblr not want to save that fic! So here's a edit that was meant for it of the whole gang going to the beach and everyone's gay and happy~!
This is for @ridoaceweek
#twisted wonderland#my art#my edit#riddle rosehearts#ace trappola#ridoace#riddle x ace#ace x riddle#ridoaceweek23#azul ashengrotto#idia shroud#leona kingscholar#ruggie bucchi#mentions of#vil schoenheit#azul x idia#idia x azul#leona x ruggie#ruggie x leona
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Please welcome my baby, Remiel
Context: @2af-afterdark made a God!MC au, so I took that concept and made my God!MC revive the Seraph that Gabriel killed. He's an old, one time, OC for a collab, but he's perfect for this so I decided to bring him back
Remiel
Nation: Heaven
Epithet: The Eater of Devils
Idiosyncrasy: Forced Orgasm
Zodiac: Gemini
Height: 185cm
Weight: 77kg
Length: 27cm
Confidence point: Eyes
Favorite food: Hot pot with broth made from the bones of devils
Favorite accessory: His lyre
Favorite weather: Cloudy day sky and clear night sky
Habit: Flicking his wings
Hobby: Cooking
Ideal type: God himself
Ideal target: People who are reactive
Ideal body type: Soft and squishy bodies
More infos ⬇️
It's a long one
Likes: Feeding heavenly pets devil meat, eye-care, wing-care, Collecting devils' horns
Dislikes: Bright flashing lights, serious people, rain, Avisos(too bright even at night)
☆ •☆ • ☆ • ☆ • ☆ • ☆ •☆ • ☆
@2af-afterdark wanted to know
What is his favorite dessert?
• His favorite dessert is Peach Crumble
Is he a morning person or a night owl?
• He’s a night owl, he have 12 eyes so he’s very sensitive to light
What is his worst "bad habit"?
• His worst “bad habit” is hoarding devil corpses, he cooks some of them but the rest go bad before he can get to them
What is his love language (not exclusive to the main five if those don't fit)?
• His love language is Words of Affirmation, he loves being praised, bombard him with it and he’ll drown you with praises as well
What is the most mundane thing that brings him pleasure/joy?
• The most mundane thing that brings him joy is people/creature watching
Can I give the most gentle butterfly kisses to all of his eyes and hold his hand?
• Yes, yes you can, he would love it. Careful when you’re holding his hands though, he have an eye on each
☆ •☆ • ☆ • ☆ • ☆ • ☆ •☆ • ☆
• He have 12 eyes
• He can control each individually or as a group
• 4 on his face
• 2 on his shoulders
• 1 on his chest
• 2 on his hands
• 3 that line his back
• He usually have them closed cause it can be disorienting sometimes
• Only used when he lost track of his opponent
• He likes to tease people he knows, but if his teasing doesn’t work, he’ll try again with a different topic
• He teases Gabriel every time he receives attention from God
• Ex: “Gabriel~ guess what~? God praised my singing again~”
• He teases Michael every time Michael decapitate anyone
• Ex: “Don't waste their heads, Michael, would you mind gathering their heads for my dish?”
• He teases Raphael every time Raphael’s covered in blood
• Ex: “Awww, their blood would’ve made for some delicious broth…actually, Raphael, wanna come sit in this cauldron for a while?”
• He have one devil friend
• Her current whereabouts is unknown, ever since he got revived he has been trying to find her
• She used to be a resident of Gehenna, she left not long after his death
• Teased her about her love life
• Ex: “No luck with devils? How about I hook you up with an angel instead?”
• He treats anyone he doesn’t know coldly
• Ex: First meeting with God!MC he said “Who tf are you?” With a poker face (which then led to Gabby smacking Remiel across his head; Gabriel: "Disrespecting our (new) God? Not on my watch")
• He sang while playing the lyre for God often because he have a beautiful singing voice
• Have tried to cook every single body parts and organs of devils
• Have a notebook of how to and how not to cook certain parts
• He likes to gently nibble something or someone
#mentions of#whb gabriel#whb michael#whb raphael#my art#digital art#whb oc#whb#what in hell is bad#what in “hell” is bad?#whb mc#God!Mc Au
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"Have you ever been in love?" Robin blurted out.
Suddenly, Steve felt like he was on the bathroom floor at Starcourt again instead of the floor of Eddie's spacious new bedroom. Robin and Steve had been nervous about getting high, so they went to Eddie, whom they trusted completely. Of course, when they told him that they thought he would wind up hugging the air of the both of them. Now, here they were with their feet on the wall as they stared at their now painted black toenails.
"Who are you talking to there, Buckley?" Eddie asked, leaning over Steve to look at her.
"You, of course, Sir Tedward," Robin said.
"Why, Lady Bobin, do you believe yourself to be a high enough level to unlock that information?" Eddie asked.
"Oh, yes. I am very high," she giggled.
"Very well," Eddie said in amusement and then sighed. "So, there was this chick named Paige - "
"A chick?!" Robin squawked.
"I'm sorry, a woman - ,"
"No, that's not what I meant. I thought you told us you were into dudes," she said.
"No, Birdie," Eddie said, rolling his eyes. "I said I was ALSO into dudes."
"Oooh," Robin said.
"Clean out your ears, Robin," Eddie scoffed.
"Ass!" Robin pouted.
"You're bisexual too?" Steve asked with grinned. "Me too, man!"
"I know, darling, you've already told me," Eddie said in amusement. "Like, right after we started smoking and then again when we painted our nails."
"Oh, right," Steve blushed and laid his head back down on Eddie's shoulder.
"So, anyway, I wasn't really in love with her, but I was starting to fall for her pretty fast. She was everything that I thought that I wanted, and she's the closet that I've ever been until. . . ," Eddie said and cleared his throat. "She made it seem like she was going to make all my dreams as a musician come true. In order to do that, I needed money, so I schemed with my no good father and gave the money to her. I was stupid. Of course, she took the money and ran. I ended up being as stupid as my dad. Really lived up to the Munson name."
"She used you, Eddie. She's the dumb one. She used your giant, hopeful heart, and she used it. She's the stupid one," Steve said and rolled into his chest. "I only want one thing from you, Eddie. I want the heart that she was stupid enough to turn away from. Please? I'll give you mine if you give me yours. Swapsies?"
"Yeah, big boy, you can have my heart," Eddie said. "Let's have this conversation when we're a little less high though."
Steve snuggled into Eddie's chest and closed his eyes, the both of them drifting off to sleep to the sound of Robin's snores. The next morning, Steve woke up and stretched, his movements causing him to wake up Eddie.
"Good morning," Steve grinned.
"Morning, big boy," Eddie smiled sleepily.
"I still want it," Steve said, rubbing the spot on his chest and kissed it. "I still want you."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Swapsies?"
"Swapsies."
They giggled as they kissed, laughing into each other's mouths. Eddie cupped his face and deepened the kiss, rolling on top of Steve. He surged forward, licking his tongue into Eddie's mouth, and gripped the edge of his shirt. A loud groaning sound caused them to break apart, and they looked up to find Robin leaning over the edge of the bed. Sometime during the night she must have crawled up there.
"I'm gonna barf," Robin said.
"Bad reaction to the weed, babe?" Steve asked.
"No, more like a bad reaction to you dingues," Robin said, mock scowling. "You guys use too much tongue. You look like dogs lapping water out of the toilet bowl. Sound like them, too."
"She's just a peach in the morning, isn't she?" Eddie asked.
"Yeah, she is not a morning person," Steve said.
"Hey, at least I kissed a girl before you kissed a guy," Robin taunted.
"Yeah, that's not true," Steve scoffed, and Eddie rolled off of him.
"Baby. . .I'm not the first guy you kissed?" Eddie pouted.
"Oh God, please don't tell me that it was Tommy H," Robin screwed up her face.
"No, and I'm not going to tell you. I don't know how open he is about his sexuality," Steve said.
"Shit. I didn't think about that," she mumbled.
"I can not believe that I am not the first guy that you kissed," Eddie said, crossing his arms.
"Am I the first guy that you kissed?" Steve asked.
"Well, no," Eddie said, rolling his eyes, pouting. "But still. . . I wanted to be your first guy kiss."
"Fine. You are more than welcome to pretend, love," Steve rolled his eyes.
"My tongue is the first male tongue that has been inside of Steve Harrington!" Eddie exclaimed, jumping up. "I do so declare."
"Oh my God! It was just his mouth," Robin groaned.
"It still counts, Buckley," Eddie replied.
He grinned at the empty spot next to Robin and threw himself onto the bed, causing Robin to bounce.
"You ass!" Robin shrieked.
She picked up the teddy bear that was on his bed.
"Not Sir Fluffington! That was a gift from my mother!" Eddie shrieked.
"Then I shall protect them with my life," Robin said seriously, clutching him to her chest.
"That's all I ask," Eddie said and hugged her.
Steve grinned and plopped down on the other side of Robin.
"So, you kissed a girl and didn't tell me?" Steve asked.
"Wait, she's never done that before?" Eddie asked with wide eyes. "Okay, Buckley, you need to tell us everything!"
"Okay, Vickie invited me over to her place the other day. She told me that she was having a few friends over and when I got there no one else was there. Apparently, everyone else had called and bailed, except that wasn't really the truth. When we finished the movie, Vickie told me that she liked me and that she wanted to get me over here somehow with actually asking me. Oh my God, she can ramble more than me! She just kept apologizing, and that's when I kissed her. The next thing I know, we're making out, and then she's asking me to be her girlfriend. I said yes!" Robin exclaimed, and she squealed, hugging Sir Fluffington tightly.
"Yeah, get it, Buckley," Eddie grinned, and then he frowned. "Steven, we just kissed. Why haven't you asked me to be your boyfriend?"
"Eddie, do you want to be my boyfriend?" Steve asked, smiling softly.
"Hmm, I don't know. It's a lot to think about. It's a lot of responsibility, you know, to be Steve Harrington's boyfriend. I mean, how much does the hair maintenance alone cost?" Eddie asked dramatically and Robin snorted.
"Oh, right, like you're so low maintenance yourself, mister," Steve said and then paused, widening his eyes as he pouted. "You know, despite all the trouble you give me, I think that you're worth it. If you asked me to be your boyfriend, I wouldn't even hesitate to say yes."
"Oh, damn it, you got me," Eddie cackled, shaking his head from side to side. "Fine, I'll be your boyfriend."
"Dinguses the both of you," Robin said fondly and pulled them both down to her side before they could kiss. "Promise me something?"
"Anything for you, Rob," Steve replied.
"Promise me that if something goes wrong, that we'll always be friends," Robin said. "That if you guys do break up that you can go back to being friends and that we all still hang out. I mean, I doubt you will break up because Steve has a notebook filled with pages of Mr. Steve Munson doodled all over."
"Robin!" Steve exclaimed, blushing.
"Okay, we're coming back to that notebook, but Robin, we're bonded for life. There is nothing that can tear us apart," Eddie said.
"I love you guys. You are my emotional support bisexuals, I can't go anywhere without you two," Robin sighed in relief. "Like a couple of bookends."
"And you are our favorite emotional support lesbian," Eddie said.
"I better be your only emotional support lesbian, Munson!" Robin exclaimed.
"Wellll. . .," Eddie said thoughtfully.
"Names! I want names!"
Steve watched them fondly as they squabbled. He always swore that in a past life, they had been siblings. The next thing he knew, Robin was making Eddie make a vow of friendship, and then Eddie was pulling out a knife. Steve acted quickly.
"No blood oaths!"
"Aww, Steve!"
"I said no!"
"Just a little blood oath?"
"We've talked about this!"
Meanwhile, Wayne had just come home from work and went to let Eddie know when he heard the last part of their conversation.
"I don't even want to know," Wayne sighed, shook his head fondly, and went to his bedroom on the other side of the house.
#stranger things#stranger things s4#eddie munson#joseph quinn#eddie stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson lives#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#bisexual steve harrington#bisexual eddie munson#bi4bi#robin buckley#robin & steve#platonic soulmates#robin & eddie#platonic with a capital p#platonic stobin#mentions of#rovickie#rockie#robin x vickie#just a little bit of silliness#stranger things fanfiction#brief appearance of#wayne munson
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Roy: Could-
Jason: No.
Roy: Why-
Jason: "Why not?" Listen, Roy, I'm willing to do a lot of things with you for the sake of causing our mentors pain. But this takes the cake for the dumbest idea you have ever had.
Roy: It's not that bad-
Jason: You want to try and jump across the gap of a volcano with a modified car! Nevermind the logistics of that, I not only enjoy my girlfriend, but also being alive again!
Roy: Okay, fine! Damn.
Jason:
Roy:
Jason, remembering the best point to make: Plus you're responsible for a whole child!
Roy: As opposed to half a child?
Jason: Roy!
#incorrect quotes#dc comics#incorrect dc quotes#jason todd#roy harper#mentions of#lian harper#indirectly#stephanie brown#jaysteph#Roy has dumb ideas#normally Jason would go along with them#but this time#Roy is really stretching survivability
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Day in the Life of a Single Working Dad
A glimpse into the life of a single dad who's doing his best.
masterlist || pt 3
Content: Established Relationship, afab!oc, fem!oc, nameless!oc, she/her/hers pronouns for Satoru's S/O, singleparent!gojo, dad!gojo, Sentimental!Gojo, Mentions of Suguru and Satoru’s deceased lover, FushiGojo fam, Family, Fluff, Children…
A/N: Megumi is an angsty child… And Gojo’s antics don’t help. Also, I was 10 once and I had a potty mouth. Plus, I have loads of Gojo clan mentions sprinkled in this one, and they're connected to a post I made about my Gojo clan headcanons.
Never Grow Up Pt 2
November 2012
06:17 AM; Ota City, Tokyo
“Whatever happened to checking the calendar for appointment dates scheduled in advance?” Shoko snickered on the other side of the line. “And why are you rushing? I’m not going anywhere.”
“You’re not going anywhere, but I am…” Satoru hissed, shooting a half-hearted glare at his phone propped up on a stand. Maybe answering Shoko’s FaceTime call was a bad idea.
“Why would you forget that Satsuki has her third vaccination scheduled today?”
“Trust me, you’d hate hearing the story.” He muttered through a mouthful of cereal.
“Sometimes I wonder what happened to the Gojo who would whine about his day not going okay. Where is he?”
“Buried under baby formula and diapers.” He grouched and shoveled the last of the sugary snacks into his mouth.
Catching movement at the corner of his eye, he turned to flash a bright smile and a wave at Tsumiki coming down the stairs dressed prim and proper in her school uniform.
“Come off it, Gojo, you have it easy. All you worry about is showing up on time to wherever you’re needed. And you never even do.”
“Okay, untrue.” Satoru knew Shoko was only joking. Did he have to mention the ad hoc lesson plans and the paperwork for the most recent missions he’d been sent on, plus the occasional parent-teacher meeting sprinkled in-between? “But I am self-aware enough to know that I have people helping me.”
“All that and you’re still a mess.” Megumi interjected, appearing behind Tsumiki with his school bag clutched between his hands. He barely evaded his sister’s elbow.
“Hey~” Satoru whined… Loudly. “I feed you!”
“The cook feeds me… He feeds you too.” Megumi shook his head, approaching the island counter to take the school lunches that had been prepped meticulously. He blurted out a quick ‘Hi’ to Shoko through the phone before busying himself with arranging his things. “Who packed this by the way? Kaihara comes in at lunch time today, doesn’t he?”
Sometimes Satoru marveled at how easily Megumi memorized everyone’s schedules in the house. Satoru knew who came in and out of the house too, of course, but he didn’t exactly bother remembering what time they were supposed to clock-in for their shifts. He was just used to seeing people outside of his family in the house, doing what they were hired to do.
“I would like to say that great teacher Gojo is good at packing lunches too, but I can’t take the credit. It was all ‘Miki.” Satoru grinned, reaching over to squeeze Tsumiki’s shoulder affectionately and pat the top of her head.
“Don’t look too relieved now.” Shoko piped up.
Satoru had almost forgotten they were still on-call. “I’m not even going to bother asking what you mean by that because it’s nothing good. I’ll see you at the school, Shoko.”
“See you… Bring Satsuki’s important medical documents.”
“Gojo, if you’re really busy today, Megumi and I can always take the train.” Tsumiki offered, smiling at him sweetly as she finished zipping up her school bag.
“And be late to homeroom class? No way!” Satoru protested playfully, sticking out his tongue.
“Because you always show up on time, don’t you?” Megumi muttered sarcastically, only all too eager to push Satoru’s buttons this early in the day.
Grinning impishly, Satoru took threatening steps forward with his hands outstretched, ready to mess with the boy’s carefully styled hair. Megumi was about to swat his hand away — infinity be damned, when Ms. Yumiko — one of the hired nursemaids — wandered into the kitchen carrying a gurgling wriggly baby in her arms.
“Satsuki!” Tsumiki cheered, coming over to greet the happy girl.
“Full from breakfast and fresh from her bath.” Ms. Yumiko was grinning, bouncing her adorable charge in one arm as Tsumiki teased, tickled, and cooed at the baby. “Everything you’ve requested is on the table in the foyer, Sir.”
Satoru began ushering Megumi to move forward, snagging his blackout glasses left on the dining table as well. “Thanks, Yumiko. I know your shift’s barely begun, but you can clock-out early if you want. I’ve already told Kaoru and Shiori they can take the day off too, since Satsuki’s coming with me today. Isn’t that right, Princess?”
Satsuki turned her wandering attention from Tsumiki to her own father as Yumiko held her out to him, all the while babbling a continuous stream of, “Da-da” as she was transferred from one place of safety to the next.
Satoru knew she didn’t understand what that meant yet, but he’d take it. His baby was looking for him. “Right here, ‘Tsuki.”
Father and daughter giggled at each other as Satoru eagerly participated in baby talk, cooing and mouth popping at the little girl. She had on a cute blue dress dotted with white kittens, complete with matching shoes and headband. Satoru didn’t think he was being biased if he said Satsuki was the cutest baby in the world. It wasn’t an unfounded brag either… It was just facts.
His baby girl with snow white hair, the prettiest amber eyes, and the puffiest cheeks. Like a chipmunk…
She should be a Disney princess.
“Hey, Gojo!” Megumi grumbled, peeking around the hallway to scowl at him. “Satsuki will be late for her shots if you don’t hurry. Tsumiki’s already in the car.”
He didn’t mention that he and Tsumiki would be late for school too if Satoru kept dawdling.
Satoru gasped dramatically and grinned when it elicited another giggly reaction from the baby in his arms. “Oh right! We can’t be late, Princess. Shoko will kick my ass.”
“Language!” Megumi huffed from the foyer.
“She doesn’t even know what it means yet!” The man whined, launching into a tirade. “You cuss all the time, and yeah, I can hear you cussing through the walls. But do I call you out? No, I don’t, because it doesn’t matter!”
“Fuck off.”
Satoru cackled like a demon out of hell as Megumi’s footsteps faded away, followed by the door closing. The kid didn’t take shit and knew how to tell people off. He couldn’t wait to see how that would serve him in the years to come — especially as a sorcerer.
If Satoru bothered to look, he would have seen Yumiko standing politely to the side, shaking her head at the antics in this household. When she’d first taken on the job, she had been made to believe that this was a serious undertaking and she would have to maintain strict propriety and formality at all times — express reverence to the head of the Gojo clan and the wielder of the Six Eyes… Reality couldn’t be farther from the truth.
“Stay safe, Master Gojo. Thank you.” She bowed as he passed by.
“Thank you, Yumiko. The house is yours!” Satoru waved as he made his way to the foyer and the genkan to get his shoes, phone in one hand as Satsuki busied herself chewing and drooling on the collar of her father’s leather jacket. “Clock out anytime and lock up. See ya!”
=OoOoO=
08:13 AM
Satoru pushed his glasses farther up his nose as he watched Megumi sullenly trail after Tsumiki as they passed the school gates. The kids would leave primary school behind very soon, moving on to Junior year. He should probably have Ijichi start looking into junior high schools they could transfer to. Two more years of that, and Tsumiki would continue to senior high school, while Megumi would relocate to Jujutsu Tech — on-track to becoming a full-time sorcerer.
Tilting the rearview mirror ever so slightly, Satoru grinned at Satsuki nestled snuggly into the comfiest car seat his money could buy. She was busy touching and nibbling her Yukimi Botamon plushie. That one would get its turn in the washing machine soon — about to join the other Digimon plushies victimized by her curious hands. He’d heard of parents who got upset with kids who tore up their toys, but it didn’t really matter to him. He would just buy her more.
“Should we stop by Starbucks, Princess? Auntie Shoko demands payment in coffee.”
Her reply came in wet babbles and a single squeal that Satoru took as a ‘yes.’ Putting the sedan in reverse, Satoru carefully backed away from the parking spot he’d stolen from an angry mom when he’d arrived ten minutes ago. Megumi and Tsumiki looked at him like he was crazy, but really, the angry lady didn’t have to get so defensive.
He glanced at Satsuki again as he left the school and drove to the closest Starbucks he could find. She was still babbling to herself. He was late for his own first year class at Jujutsu Tech, but it didn’t really matter. The kids could train with their upperclassmen just fine. Besides, he knew the moment he set foot on campus with Satsuki in tow, all sins would be forgiven in favor of entertaining the cutest, most precious baby alive.
Even Yaga couldn’t reprimand him for tardiness if he was toting Satsuki around.
Shoko accused him of using his daughter as an excuse and a shield to get out of trouble, and they were right. But who cared? Satsuki certainly didn’t. She just wanted to eat her baby food and play with her toys.
Besides, if all else failed, he could always hit the higher ups, who had the audacity to complain, with excuses along the lines of, ‘My kids are waiting for me at home.’
Being responsible for three growing children was a tall task, but in this at least, Satoru Gojo could admit he’d had it easy.
Well, easier than most.
Most people had budgeting to think about. They had to juggle work, child care, home maintenance, and healthcare. Most people were not privileged enough to be born into a family that provided their every need. Most people couldn’t move from one upscale residence to the next in just five days. Most people didn’t have a wealth of connections they could call or the money needed to take care of this and that to expedite processes as much as possible.
(What do you mean there were technical legalities to having a baby outside of marriage? Something about Supreme Court rule enacted last month? What do you mean there are lengthy legal procedures needed to legitimize the birth of his daughter just because he and his Love weren’t married yet when they had her? Apparently, the surname ‘Gojo’ didn’t have much weight if she wasn’t considered legitimate under the eyes of the government’s law.)
Satoru Gojo had the backing of an influential clan who had footholds in and out of jujutsu society. The majority of them cared too much for the family’s reputation as a whole and had resolved to help “cover” the “shame” Satoru’s “careless dalliances” brought them. It was a ridiculous mindset to have, really, but as powerful as Satoru was, he couldn’t change the way people thought.
It didn’t matter to him as long as he got what he wanted and Satsuki could grow up without worrying about legal bullshit around her birth.
Part of him wanted to whine about it to someone — about how much his life resembled a neverending whirlwind now, but Satoru was self-aware enough to know that he had been granted enough privilege and enough resources to make his life manageable. His younger self certainly wouldn’t have thought about it like this. If he had thought his life was busy before having Satsuki, he wished his old self could see it now.
=OoOoO=
10:02 AM; Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School
The drive up to Jujutsu High had been mostly uneventful. The only real hiccup had been when Satsuki started crying and he had to pull up at a gas station with a convenience store, so he could run inside and hopefully find something she needed that he didn’t have. But really, everything should be in the baby bag that Yumiko packed before they left home this morning.
Turned out, the baby needed a diaper change, and Satoru didn’t know what was worse: the fact that Satsuki had to be uncomfortable now of all times or the fact that diaper-changing stations were only in the women’s bathroom. It wasn’t a problem because he could warp in, do his business, and warp out, but it was still quite baffling.
Why did people in-charge of making restrooms and toilets neglect to put diaper-changing stations in the men’s room?
With Satsuki now strapped to Satoru’s chest, her baby bag slung over one shoulder, and Shoko’s unhealthy umpteenth dose of caffeine in hand, Satoru kept using Blue to move quickly up the stairs to Jujutsu High up until he reached Shoko’s clinic in the school.
Satsuki was giggling again, humming, and babbling ‘Da-da’ over and over as her tiny fists gripped the front of his dark gray shirt. Her little head moved this way and that, taking in colors and shapes that didn’t have a name in her growing brain. Satoru didn’t miss the way his baby kept staring up at him though, and who was he to refuse his daughter’s whims when she babbled like that? And if he had to blow his own saliva bubbles and pop them loudly so she would give him that cute gummy smile, no one had to know.
“Well, if it isn’t the deadbeat father.”
Shoko joked when Satoru stepped through the door of her clinic at Jujutsu High. She was taking the unlit cigarette out of her mouth to drop it in her stash.
“Nice joke, Shoko. You should try something funnier next time.”
Shoko snorted and helped him unload. The baby bag was deposited on the couch, and the Starbucks coffee left on her desk — plain old cold brew for her and a cola frappuccino for Satoru. Holding out her hands, Satoru gladly passed his baby over to Shoko while he rid himself of the carrier.
“This is her last round of vaccines right?” He asked, fishing out the documents Shoko asked him to bring earlier this morning.
“Da-daaaa~ Da-da Da-da.”
“Yep.” Shoko nodded once and turned to the gurgling baby in her arms, voice turning soft. “Is ‘Da-da’ the only word you know? Say Shoko… ‘Sho-ko.’”
Satsuki giggled, popping drool bubbles in her mouth. “Da-da! Da-da Da-da.”
It devolved into incoherent babbling after that as Satsuki moved around in Shoko’s arms and stared at everything and anything. Satoru snickered and reached over to wipe off the drool from the corner of his daughter’s mouth.
“You’re so gross, ‘Tsuki. This after you made a mess on the way here too?”
“Huh, I wonder where she gets it from.”
“I’m offended.”
“You should be.”
Leaving a pouting Satoru, Shoko went to get everything she needed for the vaccinations. Satoru took Satsuki back and made her sit on one of the patient beds. Shoko took her time preparing everything, but it was hard to ignore the conversation happening behind her — a nonsensical conversation, but it was one nonetheless. It was a mix of baby talk and so. Much. Giggling.
People could say what they would about Satoru Gojo at this point, but anyone who worked closely with him couldn’t deny that he loved his daughter dearly — so enamored by her too.
With Satsuki sitting on a patient bed, propped up by her father, Shoko began administering the shots methodically, and Satsuki’s giggles turned into loud wailing and a lot of fussing.
Satoru cooed, wiping fat tears that rolled down his baby’s cheeks, and when they were done, he took her in his arms, tucked her head into the crook of his neck and calmed her down in the softest, most saccharine voice Shoko ever heard him use — a voice he used just for his baby girl. In some small way, it felt wrong to be there. It almost felt like intruding on a very private family matter.
“Sshh~ why’s my baby cryin’? Did it hurt, Princess? It’s just a tiny boo-boo, don’t worry about it.”
He patted her back, left kisses on the top of her head, swaying side to side a little until the tears stopped and the aftereffects of the vaccine took hold.
“You don’t mind if I stay here a bit, do you?” Satoru gestured towards the sleeping baby in his arms. “She’ll wake up hungry and I have to feed her afterwards.”
Despite herself, Shoko had to laugh a little and nodded her consent. She sat next to him on the couch with a medical report in her hands. The clinic was silent — almost as if no one was there. Shoko intently read the document she’d been studying before he got here, while Satoru contented himself with scrolling through his phone while a baby slept on his shoulder.
Time passed slowly in silence, and after a while Shoko spoke up quietly.
“When are you moving back to your apartment in Roppongi?”
“I’d like to do it before ‘Tsuki’s first birthday. Everything should be settled by then. Also, we haven’t exactly been weaning her from breast milk, but she doesn’t like it much anymore. Is that normal?”
“She’ll be 7 months old soon.” Shoko fiddled with the corner of a page. “It should be fine. Some babies feed on breast milk until they’re 2 years old, some are weaned early by their parents, and some don’t have a preference for it at all. Humans are strange like that.”
“Oh…”
“Sometimes it feels like only yesterday that you moved into that house in Ota.”
“I know, right?”
“Does your mother know that you’re planning to move back to your apartment?”
“I’ll tell her soon, after I’ve finished arrangements to move all of the kids’ stuff to my apartment and after an interior design crew finishes remodeling the space to fit children. Less trouble that way.”
Shoko chuckled quietly. “Look at you being a responsible adult. Never thought I’d see the day.”
Satoru wanted to say that it only took losing Suguru and the Love of his life to childbirth, but he held his tongue. It would be a stupid joke to make, and it wasn’t even that funny. If he had done things differently after that failure of a mission to bring Amanai to Tengen, maybe Suguru would still be here… If he had been a tad more responsible, maybe his girlfriend didn’t have to lose her life.
This was the reality he lived in now, and he’d promised himself he would do anything in his power to give Fushiguro’s kids the life they deserve and love his daughter enough so she would not miss out on the affection her late mother would have lavished on her.
So even if the situation was far too complicated, he’d waded through the knots, got his hands dirty, and did his best to sort things out.
After Satsuki’s birth, his mother had been adamant about him spending more time in the Gojos’ expansive ancestral home — the family’s estate, located further in the outskirts of Tokyo. There, he would have had access to a small army of hired nursemaids that could cater to Satsuki’s every need. The women in his family and his own mother had more knowledge about childrearing and experience than he ever could, but there was the fact that if he let it happen, they would isolate him from his own baby — pushing him towards his duties instead.
That was not something he wanted, and the Love of his life would hate him if that ever happened. He made a promise to her.
Satoru would have preferred to raise Satsuki in his spacious 4-bedroom apartment in Roppongi from the start, but his mother did have a point. For the first few months of Satsuki’s life at least, his schedule required convenience. Roppongi was in the heart of the metropolis. His apartment was the perfect bachelor pad and entirely ill-fitted to house a newborn and all of her needs.
He settled in Ota City, which was somewhat closer to Jujutsu Tech and his family’s ancestral seat; moved into one of the residential properties registered under his name as clan head. It was a private two-storey home maintained by a live-in caretaker after the clan purchased it two years ago.
The propositioned army of nursemaids were reduced to three, scheduled to come in shifts throughout the day so Satoru would have assistance 24/7. His mother hired a cook for him, someone in-charge of nutritional meal prep for Satoru and the children under his care. The housekeeper and the gardener the family had hired when the house was purchased would retain their duties, reporting to work twice a week to make sure the property stayed neat and tidy.
So while he was indeed busier than ever before, his life wasn’t as messy as it was expected to be had he been forced into a situation where he had to deal with all of this by himself.
“Megumi gives me enough shit about it.” He joked, shaking his head at the memory of Toji’s son.
“You think you can manage without the nursemaids and the cook after you go back?”
“I could keep them around if I wanted too, but nah. The apartment is serviced, and honestly, Tsumiki knows how to work a kitchen anyways. I’m her sous chef you know.” He declared proudly, flashing Shoko a grin that reminded her of a much younger, more-carefree, and more insufferable Satoru.
“I pity whoever’s on housekeeping duty when they have to clean your apartment.”
“So mean.”
=OoOoO=
04:55 PM; Ota City, Tokyo
The rest of Satoru’s day fell into a routine. After Satsuki got the last round of her vaccines, she had woken up hungry, fed from a bottle, and then she was strapped to her carrier, before Satoru went off to check on his first years.
He had four of them this year. They were nothing to write anyone home about though. Two of them were more suitable for support — perhaps as assistants, and the other two were guaranteed sorcerers. They could get to Grade 1, if they pushed themselves hard enough — which looked like it wasn’t the case, because all four always did prefer theoretical lessons over practical applications.
And all four shared the same sentiment towards him bringing a baby to campus.
They adored Satsuki… Of course they did.
Satoru was predisposed to believe that anyone who didn’t, didn’t have a heart.
One of the girls, Eri, jumped up from her perch under a tree and rushed to Gojo first, squealing Satsuki’s name all the while. The other three followed and Satoru let them fawn over the baby girl while he delivered a verbal lesson on cursed energy control right there on the field. The students fiddled with her headband, cooed over how cute her little dress was, and watched her fondly as she played with the Digimon plushie that Satoru brought over. Yes, he derailed from the lesson from time to time to accommodate his baby whenever she squealed, “Da-da,” but for the most part, Satoru Gojo stuck with his version of a ‘routine.’
Finish a lesson at Jujutsu High, check the list of missions that were filtering down to the students, skip the paperwork (he’d make Ijichi do it, easy), receive mission briefs from Yaga, pick up Megumi and Tsumiki from school, and finally head home.
He wasn’t really one for routines. Living the same way every day was just boring. Whatever routine he’d managed to put together for the last couple of months had been ragtag… Impromptu. In a sense, it wasn’t really a routine, was it? More like a list of daily plans that got moved around the board by order of changing priority.
Megumi was quick to point out that it was a disgraceful mess if Gojo ever called it a ‘routine’.
Satoru had to give him credit though. He and Tsumiki were better at holding down the fort while he was running around taking mission calls from the higher ups, being a teacher, and being around Satsuki enough to witness her milestones.
Just like now…
Phone tucked between chin and shoulder, the furrow between Satoru’s brows did not disappear the longer he listened to an urgent mission brief on the other side of the line.
Megumi had closed the front door behind him and was heading to the living room to do his homework. Tsumiki cast one last concerned look at Gojo before turning away to follow her brother.
A shrill squeal stopped her in her tracks and she spun around to see Satsuki staring straight at her, one arm outstretched and pointing in Tsumiki’s general direction. She was babbling and blowing bubbles again and when Tsumiki outstretched both hands towards her, Satsuki squealed and gurgled some more.
“One second.” The clipped and curt tone instantly shifted into a cheery voice as Tsumiki approached. “Mind taking her for me, ‘Miki?”
“Nope. Come here, Satsuki.” Tsumiki smiled, carefully taking Satoru’s baby girl into both of her arms. “Can you help me do homework?”
Shifting the wriggling baby into one arm, Tsumiki brought over her school bag, plopping it next to Megumi’s as she claimed a spot on the carpeted floor. The television was on a nature documentary channel, and it held Satsuki’s attention while the siblings started to take care of homework. Megumi sighed, looked up from his notes, and paused immediately after.
“Tsumiki, she’s eating her fingers again.”
The brunette stared down at the baby lying on her lap and clicked her tongue in disapproval. “Oh dear. Satsuki, no… Your hands are not that clean.”
Tsumiki tried to take Satsuki’s hand out of her own mouth, but the baby began to whine in protest. She wasn’t crying yet, but soon she would be. The moment her wail gradually increased in volume, it was over. Tsumiki hadn’t even realized Megumi had left his spot. He startled her a little bit when he tapped her shoulder and held out the jar full of multi-colored pacifiers that he’d taken from the dining room.
“Da-daaaa! Da-daaa! Da-da Da-da~” Came the long, drawn out wail that Megumi had been afraid of — all before Tsumiki had the chance to stick one of the suckers into her mouth.
“Well, you know who to call if you don’t get your way, huh?” Tsumiki tutted, gently pressing the pacifier nipple to Satsuki’s lips.
She latched on to it, and Tsumiki wiped down the baby’s hands with gentle antibacterial wet wipes that she’d fished out of her bag.
“How is she spoiled already? It’s only been six months.” Megumi huffed, plopping back down on the carpet.
Tsumiki giggled. “I don’t think she knows she’s spoiled, to be honest.”
“You said yourself, she knows to call for Gojo if she wants something.”
“That’s just what it sounds like. But really, does she even know what ‘Da-da’ means?” Tsumiki mused curiously. To Satsuki, ‘Da-da’ was just a word that brought Satoru to her. So what was the comprehension level of a six-month-old?
“I don’t know.” Megumi shrugged.
“She knows all of us and everyone coming and going in this house, and she’s attached to Go—”
“Heyyy~”
Tsumiki and Megumi turned to the direction of the owner of the voice. As expected…
“I heard a Princess crying. Is she okay?” Satoru sauntered over to them with that ever present grin. The glasses had been tucked away in favor of a black blindfold. It hung around his neck.
“Mhm… Just fussy.” Tsumiki piped up, stroking Satsuki’s hair while the brunette rocked back and forth slowly. “She wanted to eat her own hands, so Megumi had to get the pacifiers.”
Satoru snickered and eyed the jar of flavorless suckers that the kids had abandoned on the couch. Satsuki was happily sucking on a Leafmon pacifier.
“Tried one of those once. Sucks that they’re so bland.”
Megumi wondered if Satoru realized how crazy his statement was. Even Tsumiki was giving him side-eye. God forbid Satsuki inherited her father’s sweet tooth. It would not end well if the food supply around the house slowly shifted to just sweets. Thank the gods for Kaihara who always brought fresh produce and vegetables that Megumi could actually eat — except red bell peppers. Fuck those!
“Seriously? How old are you?”
Megumi should have known better the moment he saw a shit-eating grin spread across Satoru’s face. “Old enough to have a baby and raise them apparently?”
“Gross.”
“Hey~ What’s wrong about having kids?”
Megumi glowered at him — an expression too eerily similar to a man Satoru knew not too long ago. “Shut up. You’re gross.”
Satoru laughed obnoxiously. “I don’t know what you mean, Megumi.”
The dark-haired boy rolled his eyes. They all knew Gojo knew… It was just one of those silent cues that said, ‘Drop the subject.’ Heaving a dramatic sigh, the man hopped over the back of the couch, landing smoothly next to Tsumiki. The brunette propped Satsuki up, so she was sitting on her knees, and Satoru’s expression brightened even more as he kissed his daughter’s forehead.
“Mind her bedtime, yeah?” He patted Tsumiki on the head and reached over to tousle Megumi’s hair — the latter felt unfortunate enough to receive it because he was not quick enough to evade him. “And you—” He zeroed in on the baby and tickled her tummy so she giggled, pacifier nearly falling out of her mouth “—be good to ‘Miki and ‘Gumi.”
“Hm?”
“A mission?”
Tsumiki hummed just as Megumi asked.
“Yup. In Aoyama and Suginami. Depending on how this mission goes, I may or may not be around tomorrow morning. Yumiko’s coming in early though, and Kaihara prepped meals that can be reheated in the oven for breakfast if you want them. Otherwise, there’s cereal and cookies!”
“Be safe, Gojo.” Tsumiki smiled at him with so much sincerity, lifting Satsuki’s little fist to mimic a wave. The tiny girl stared up at her dad with big amber eyes, still intently sucking on her pacifier. “Don’t worry about us.”
“I’ll try not to be.” He grinned and rose to his feet. “Oh and about the ride to school tomorrow. If I’m not here by morning, Ijichi will be around to pick you both up. Yumiko and Kaoru will take care of Satsuki. I’ll be off! Good night, kiddos!”
=OoOoO=
Contrary to what he’d said, Satoru did make it back home before the children were due to wake up. A single glance at the property assured him that everything was untouched — no sign of attempted entry on both the physical premises and the layers of protection barriers over the home. The talismans infused with his cursed energy remained undisturbed — probably more than enough to ward off any threat that wanted to come close.
Unprovoked physical and supernatural attacks were rare for him (actually close to nonexistent because what curse or curse user would be stupid enough to launch an assault on Satoru Gojo?), but you could never be too sure.
Someone left the light at the foyer open — probably Tsumiki. She was mindful like that. The rest of the house was neat and quiet like always. Even before he’d had Satsuki, Megumi and Tsumiki were always responsible kids that picked up after themselves, and Satoru appreciated it. It wouldn’t have been a problem if they were messy because the apartment in Roppongi was clean-serviced routinely, but the Fushiguros’ tidiness and sense of responsibility that matched an adult’s was a sad reminder of how they were abandoned too early and were forced to grow up.
The watch on his phone displayed 4:47AM in white bold letters.
He took the stairs two at a time and made a beeline for the room beside his — Satsuki’s nursery. It was a usual sight: Satsuki in dream land, her night light was on, the winter-themed animal mobile hanging above her bassinet was turning slowly in circles too, and the room smelled of baby powder mixed with something distinctly floral. What was not usual were the kids sleeping comfortably on the large bean bags on the floor, sandwiched between the Divine Dogs. They were supposed to be in their own rooms across his own, but nope… Tsumiki was clutching a Digimon plushie — completely unaware of the presence of a canine conjured from her brother’s shadows, and Megumi had an open book on his face, the fingers of one hand buried in the Black Divine Dog’s fur.
What a sight to come home to…
He didn’t really say it, but he truly did appreciate the way Megumi and Tsumiki cared for his daughter like she was their own sibling. He had the Fushiguros as his wards first — looked after them together with the Love of his life, and when Satsuki was born, the situation could have turned sour quickly because of the swift change in living arrangements and the introduction of a baby that would take the majority of his attention. They could have been resentful… They could have been jealous… They could have thrown tantrums.
Instead, he had Tsumiki being her kind and sweet self as always, while Megumi was… Megumi. The kid was a grouch from the moment they met, but Satoru knew that he cared — in his own quiet ways. He and Megumi were similar like that, but Megumi was reserved and preferred to keep to himself where Satoru often forgot what personal space was.
Snapping a picture of the domestic scene that stirred something in his chest, Satoru turned and left the children in their peaceful slumbers, making his way to his own bedroom to catch a nap.
If he could come home every day to a sight like that… he’d never complain about a single thing in his life ever again.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fanfic#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#dad!gojo#girl dad gojo#fushigojo#single parent gojo#mentions of#gojo x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x oc#gojo x oc#satoru gojo x oc#satoru gojo x reader#jjk x reader#wbad fanfiction
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Reposting this from a little while ago because it somehow got accidentally deleted lmao
#scp foundation#scp#scp fanart#scp shitposting#scp 076#scp 076 2#scp able#scp abel#mentions of#scp 105#scp Iris
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this is my normal person to hypster pipeline
#hypnosis mic#mostly mtc 😍🥰😩#mad trigger crew#jyuto iruma#hypmic#rio mason busujima#samatoki aohitsugi#mentions of#ichiro yamada#saburo yamada#riojyu#kind of ?#idk#doppo kannonzaka#hifumi izanami
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