#wip: fuck he said a pronoun
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writing a few texts for “fuck he said a pronoun” and i accidentally gave wille my texting mannerisms and erik my oldest sister’s :’]
#im not gonna examine that too much lmao#but if they're at hillerska for 3 years that means erik is ~4 years older than wille#my oldest sister is 6 years older than me#so its a similar age difference lmao#at least im functioning under the idea that erik is 20-21#since he was at hillerska with august so he can't be any older than that#anywho#i just think its so fucking funny how often i use my siblings mannerisms when writing siblings#it's only a little hint of texts and most of them are wille lmao#but yeah. i use no caps and almost no punctuation when texting#and my oldest sister uses proper caps and proper grammar at pretty much all times#so#wip: fuck he said a pronoun#shh ac
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Okay, but like BLLK Team Z finally getting a break outside of BlueLock and only for Chigiri to reunite with his girlfriend and that’s how the rest finds out that he even has one
CHERRY WAVES ; CHIGIRI HYOMA !
⊂ CONTENT & TAGS ⊃ f!reader(s!her pronouns) , humor, swearing,semi-canon compliance, fluff, flirting, ( touch - starved ) team z is a hindrance to their ‘moment’. blog navigation + word count ::1kish; i was writing for him so i kinda mixed your idea with my wip. hope you like it >:)) &<3
“Ohhhh. . . Hyom I'm so tired of seeing you in rectangles ”
“What do you mean . . . ? rectangles ”, Chigiri's lips puckered out in confusion unable to understand the sudden complaint in her voice. His brows furrowed and then jumped, a few blinks: one. two. three; his voice followed a trail of merriment, cheeks stretching up to his ears. “I see what's this about. . . it's been a while since we were together. . . like on a date.”
“ Umm-ughh ” Her eyes shifted from the screen to elsewhere, somewhere up. As her neck stretched, a spread of ink was noticed by her boyfriend.
“BaBe . . .”, he gasped, “ is that a tattoo?”
“tattoo? Who got tattoo?”
“uh. . . No...no-one”, chigiri quipped almost instantaneously as if someone else possessed him, someone else was pouring words in his mouth and he couldn't even figure out why he act the way he acted.
Bachira cocks his head exclaiming with a teeth-flashing green, “but I'm sure i heard a girl's voice.”
Fuck.
“Chigiri’s got a girlfriend ”, Bachira chimed being proud of his deduction.
Double Fuck.
“What ? No way.”, Isagi's jaw drops at Bachira’s words.
Think. Think. Think something quick.
“Why? Why is it so unbelievable? ”, Kunigami joined the conversation being a saviour to Chigiri’s aid.
Bachira and Isagi both squinted eyes at Kunigami who still had the raised eyebrows retaliating look. “Could it be . . .?”, Bachira trailed off
And Isagi finished the rest of his sentence “. . .you might have one and didn't tell us ?”
Thanks kuni, great distraction.
There was a pin drop silence for a few seconds while the greatest battle of eye-contact prevailed.
“Nope. I'm not taken.” Kunigami remarks and walks out of the room. Bachira and Isagi exchanged glances while Chigiri felt his senses being on edge again.
“Now then . . .” Bachira stood , shifting his weight on one of his ankle. “Tell her , who she is. . . the girl of your dreams” He demanded in a dramatic tone, looking at Chigiri who was standing like a statue. Still being clueless why he became so stiff all of a sudden. Sure, he had plans to tell them or maybe introduce her to them but now might not be a good time
He sucked in a strong breath saying, “It is just my sister you guys” Knotting his hair up in a ponytail he strolled towards his bed and flopped on it. Bachira as well as Isagi didn't press him any further. He looks dejected. Moreover, today's match tired them out more than they had assumed.
Chigiri couldn't sleep a blink. He can't seem to recall when he had talked with his girl last time on a video call. He recalled how she whined about seeing him in rectangles but then again, most of his friends keep in touch with their family and loved ones, through rectangles. Geez! So childish!
is it? is it really childish?
It's been a while since hyoma said ‘i love you’ to her. It's been a while since he held her hands in his and go for shopping or explore cafes together. It's been a while since he kissed her cheeks, embraced her, feel her touch and. . . Chigiri exhaled deeply brushing away those thoughts. He can not afford to get distracted now, especially when there is just one more game left and then he can be outside this lavish cell.
is that all she is? a distraction?
—
That was risky and reckless to sneak out from the squad using the crowd as a diversion but it was worth it. He could now see her , feast his eyes on her as much as he wants. He missed annoying her with his obvious stares.
She held a pair of dangling earrings over her respective ears asking joyfully, “Do you think these would look good on me? ”
No answer.
“What’re you looking at?”, she fetched with confusion washing over her face.
“I don't know ” Chigiri walks up to her, holding her hands keeping his eyes on her while hers roamed everywhere being surprised at his advances. “You tell me what I could I possibly look at ” She turned her face away feeling awfully warm being in the vicinity of his affection. Chigiri interlaced his fingers with hers, brought her hand close to his mouth and pressed a soft dry kiss on her knuckles, of course after doing a quick scan all around.
There were people but they were all busy.
“You little shit.”
The couple gazed to the source. Chigiri’s eyes flared up and Bachira? He threw ran as fast as he could holding the ice-cream in one hand shouting at people to excuse him.
Chigiri was in high spirits, bachira couldn't possibly think that he could run faster than him, can he now? He chased his friend through the stream of the crowd in the mall. Bachira knew he couldn't beat him, at least not in the running. He knew Chigiri would catch up to him quickly; hence, the moment he spotted Isagi he shouted from the bottom of his lungs “Isagi. you owe me 50 bucks. I won the bet. Chi—”
Shit. Shit.shit. shiiiitt.
The security guard stood in front of them like a tower. Chigiri and Bachira, both were now on the same side. They were not running anymore. Few minutes later Team Z gathered in front of the mall.
Chigiri called y/n, “Yo Bae, come outside. We are at gate 4. My friends are here too.” with an apologetic tone, and ragged intake of breaths.
“Okay. You sound. . . are you ohkay? ?”
“I'm. Yeah . I'm ”, he ran his fingers through the bridge of his nose trying to hide his smile. He was . . . beaming with joy, he couldn't be more right about anything else than having you in his life.
—
@tokyometronetwork & @knchins [ ykw >:)) ]
#blue lock x reader#chigiri x y/n#chigiri x reader#chigiri x you#chigiri fluff#chigiri hyoma#hyoma chigiri#chigiri hyoma x you#chigiri hyoma x reader#bllk fluff#blue lock fluff#bllk drabble#blue lock drabbles#bllk scenarios#blue lock scenarios#bllk imagines#blue lock imagines#bllk x y/n#bllk x you#bllk x reader#bllk bachira#bllk kunigami#bllk isagi#blue lock x you#blue lock x y/n#isagi yoichi#bachira meguru#kunigami rensuke#yoichi isagi#meguru bachira
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Sub!Rolan Headcanons
pairing: Rolan x gn!Reader (no pronouns or descriptions used, just "you")
〚 Masterlist | WIP List 〛
-MDNI-
What to expect: explicit NSFW content!
suggested prereads: NSFW Rolan Headcanons | General Tiefling Headcanons
OH MY GOD WHERE DO I START
So please read my general NSFW headcanons for him if you haven't already
A lot of this post is written assuming you and Rolan are in an established relationship
Right off the bat, I will say that he's not super kinky - at least not in the harder BDSM kind of way
Might be an unpopular opinion, but it must be said
I will elaborate on it later!
As I mentioned in my other NSFW hcs, he sees sex as a very intimate thing, and he wouldn't be open to doing it anywhere that wasn't private
He'd still be reluctant to do anything with you in his office - you'd have to work up to that; he prefers your shared bedroom over anything else
He will literally do whatever you want, his motivation is always to please you - you come first (heh)
All he wants to do is make you feel good
(respectfully, he'd be very easy to boss around and take what you want from)
He wants you to take from him - and he'd be so happy if you let him bring you pleasure
But you know what's even juicier? What gets him going even more?
When you don't let him touch you
When you focus your energy on making him feel good rather than yourself
Now THAT is the way to get him begging and whimpering for you
It's a great inner conflict for him - he doesn't want to allow himself to be put first, he wants to be the one making you feel good, not the other way around... but at the same time, he knows how much it gets you off, and isn't that his main goal?
So he'll absolutely take it, he'll do whatever you say, even if you're telling him to lay back and let you at him
In the beginning of your sexual relationship, there is a lot of protesting about this - "my love, please, I want to make you feel good, just let me please you," as he's laying naked on the bed, and you're licking a long stripe up his cock with half your clothes still on
but he quickly realizes how much you get off on it, so the protests subside and he actually gives into it
within no time, he's begging you to touch him and to let him cum for you
So if the overarching idea I wanted to drill into your head in the original NSFW post was how he sees sex as a very intimate thing, then the idea in this post is how much he pleads and begs when you focus on his pleasure
after a while of being together, he's so in love with you and he trusts you so deeply, he'd be so sensitive to you he would barely need you to touch him sometimes (I may or may not be writing a fic about this hehehe)
He's very vocal, especially if you express how much you love the sounds he makes
You get a lot of "mmmmm" and "aaahhhhh" types of moans from him, and at first, they're at the same pitch he normally talks in
but the second you get him really worked up, most of them are higher pitch and choppier - things like "ah.. ahh.. ah" and GOD it's delicious
When he's not begging for you, he loves to tell you how incredible you feel or how perfect you are to him... or he'll thank you
alright, time to elaborate on kinks
the general idea is that he would enjoy things that don't involve pain - no matter who's giving and who's receiving, pain would be a firm line for him that he is not willing to cross
However, he'd be turned on by things like that happening in the moment as a result of your pleasure
like if you dug your nails into his back and left scratches all over him because of how good he was making you feel
he wouldn't be turned on by the scratching, he'd be turned on by the fact that you were doing it because of how he was making you feel
it's the same thing with pulling his hair or gripping a part of his body really hard (like his arms or waist) - he wouldn't like it if you do it just to do it - the fact that it was a testament to the pleasure he gave you would make his head fucking spin
the only instance of pain that he'd be alright with you willingly inflicting on him is if you took the skin of his neck between your teeth in a mating bite - especially if one or both of you were close to your orgasm, it would absolutely send him over the edge
100% has a praise kink - it's so absurd how gratifying it is when he hears you say how good he's making you feel, whether it's from your moans or your words
Your sounds will literally be met with one of his in response almost every time
Rolan likely wouldn't be interested in any sort of physical restriction during sex - things like ropes or anything meant to hold one of you in place
to be fair, you wouldn't really need them anyway - you could just tell him to keep his hands off of you until you say so, and he would (but not without struggle)
and if he slips up, well then you get to... correct him however you see fit... and isn't that the fun part?
and here are some other spicy things he would be able to get down with if you were into them: calling you mommy/daddy, edging/orgasm control, a hand around his throat (light squeezing, if at all), body worship, pegging, breeding, overstimulation, being marked, and dirty talk (especially when it's accompanied by praise)
and a few other firm lines he wouldn't want to cross: degradation/humiliation, sensory deprivation, and public sex
Y'all ever think about Rolan crying during sex?.... cuz I do!
Don't worry, it's never because he's feeling negative emotions
It might be a rare occurrence, but it's definitely possible and I see it happening because of 3 different circumstances:
1) he is immensely horny, his cock is beyond throbbing hard, and you've finally given him an orgasm - one that makes his ears ring and his eyes water, and he's literally crying in pleasure (it's more like a few tears from how powerful the orgasm was but you get the point)
2) you're having extremely intimate sex with him - perhaps something upsetting has happened or is about to happen, and he's finding comfort in you making love to him and showing how much you care about him. The mix of emotions and his deep feelings for you could absolutely send him into some soft tears and a symphony of gentle "I love you"s.
or 3) he is, again, greatly horny and you're edging him and denying him of his orgasm, over and over, and at some point, it's almost like his body breaks, and you see a few tears stream from his eyes
imagine it, you once again remove your hands and mouth from his desperate, leaking cock right as he was about to spill over the edge into the point of no return. your actions cease and he throws his head back with a cry from the sudden lack of stimulation. With exacerbated breaths, two small tears drop from the outer corners of his eyes as his orgasm recedes back into him.
The tears aren't because he's uncomfortable or frustrated, they're an amalgamation of how many times you brought him to the edge that night, only to halt your movements right before he could cum, finally having built up something in him until they broke loose (rolan crying fic coming soon heh <3)
In moments that he's feeling particularly submissive, he might ask for validation - things like "Am I doing good? Am I making you feel good?" in a desperate whimper
and when your orgasm gets closer? He's begging you to cum for him, begging to feel you orgasm, encouraging you like it's life or death - "Come on, my love, please, come on, cum for me"
depending on the day, he might also say things like "take me", repeating it over and over, "take me, please.. agh, take me, my love, take me, I want to be yours, make me yours" (bite him <3)
and when you finally cum, all he can do is cry out at the sensation, his own climax bubbling to the surface
he nearly falls into a trance with how amazing he feels with all of the sounds and feelings around him
if he's inside you, it's the sound of his balls slapping against you and the lewd, wet noises coming from between your bodies, the feeling of the most sensitive parts of your skin under his palms (and his in yours) - that's the moment he wants to live in for the rest of his time
and when his orgasm finally arrives, he's begging your permission for his release, and (if he's inside of you) to let him finish inside
He cums especially hard with a chunk of his hair balled up and pulled by your fist, your teeth biting down on his neck, and your body pressed as close to his as physically possible
and as his load shoots out from him, sending rippling shockwaves of bliss through his body, he practically prays to you at that moment, worships the ground you walk on like you're a deity from the Outer Realms
and yet, you made him feel things so deeply and profoundly, more powerfully than any god has ever (and would ever) make him feel
once he's able to speak again, he only continues his words of praise and love - wanting to make sure you know how incredible you make him feel (as if hearing the noises he makes wasn't enough)
Aftercare is big for him, and it's a tossup between who takes the lead in it (unless you have a preference for one way or the other)
Rolan loves to continue to care for you after sex, wanting to make sure you're comfortable and hydrated - often suggesting a bath together
If he's particularly spent after everything, he prefers to stay close to your chest - and really loves it when you stroke his back or run your fingers through his hair; which would 100% earn deeply contented purrs from him
Screaming crying so excited to write that damn blurb, I have the whole thing planned out in my head but I haven't had time to write yet!!
I hope you all enjoy this one, I loved doing it quite a lot! Sub Rolan is my ultimate cup of tea, I think about it constantly. As always, comments and reblogs are always deeply appreciated and I read eVERY SINGLE COMMENT AND TAG <3333
#what will it be next week folks?#I still have yet to decide heheehehe#baby boy#rolan#bg3#my writing#my hcs#headcanons#holy rolan empire#smut#x reader#x tav#brainrot#baldur's gate 3#rolan posting
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[7:14 PM]
Mafia AU
TW: None
Y/N Pronouns: Not Specified
WC: 0.6K
[Other Groups Masterlist] | [Timestamp Masterlist]
In other news idk if y'all remember this but uh wip/another edition to the ever so popular chan vs han mafia timestamps HAHA
Chan looked at you like you'd just committed a cardinal sin. His expression, though flat, was all a facade, the common mask he wore around everyone, but you knew him better than that. You'd studied Chan like anyone would study a monster because that's what he was and you knew from his eyes alone that you had made a mistake. It was the way they burrowed through you, it was the way that they seemed to read your mind, and it was the way they sealed your fate.
"No, I have no plans for a divorce, why are you asking?" He finally says as if there were no tension at all. The papers in your hands seemed to be heavier now. "What's that you got there, my dear? Bring them over here," he gestures for you to come closer with an open hand. His brow was scrunched and his lips pressed in a tight line, but every step you took to his desk was like a funeral march. You placed the papers in his hands and he read through them thoroughly, much faster than the other papers on his desk, and with much more of a discerning eye than any of his other documents at all. Then, in one fluid movement, he ripped the papers and you flinched back at the suddenness of it. Once in half, then again, and again, until they were nothing but shreds. He chucked them into the waste basket next to his desk. "You won't be needing those, my dear. Did you need to ask me anything else?"
"... no, I was just curious..." you muttered.
"What was that?" He asks you to clarify. "I'm sorry, dear, I just want to know what on earth instilled such a horrible thought into you." He said it with a smile and you felt a heavy weight on your shoulders. "Or... hm... should I be asking who put that thought into you?" He leans forward toward you and, although you were standing straight, he still seemed to be much bigger than you. You swallowed harshly. Who? You wondered how he'd react if you told him the truth that it was by his own hand that this was happening now.
"No one, Chan, no one told me anything," you tried to steel your voice, but his scoff was enough of an answer for you.
"No one? Okay, I believe you," he gives you a slight nod. You take a step away from his desk and turn around to leave. Right as you opened the door, Chan spoke up behind you again.
"Tell Han to come inside on your way out, my love. I have a lot to talk about with him." The door shut behind you and you felt like your legs were about to give in from the pressure alone.
Han, meanwhile, kicked off from his spot on the wall across from you, his face as solemn as Chan's.
"Well... I'm fucked," he walks next to you, him facing the door and your back to it. His hand raised toward the doorknob, but he had one eye on the security camera in the corner. Once it had moved away from the two of you, his hand instead wrapped around your wrist and he leaned into your ear. "Tonight, I'll come to get you, and we'll go." You nodded your head slightly and, just as fast as he'd passed you, he'd left.
General Tag List: @stopeatread @bat-shark-repellant @raeincitizen @umbralhelwolf @yangsrose @kazooms @sadcoffeecritic
If you want to be added to either tag list or removed just send me a reply to this post, and ask, or a DM and I’ll add you as soon as possible!
#stray kids mafia au#stray kids x reader#stray kids x you#stray kids x yn#skz x reader#skz x you#skz x yn#stray kids timestamps#skz timestamps#chan x reader#chan x you#chan x yn#bang chan x reader#bang chan x you#bang chan x yn#chan timestamps#bang chan timestamps#han x reader#han x you#han x yn#han jisung x reader#han jisung x you#han jisung x yn#han timestamps#han jisung timestamps#skz mafia au#my writings
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At Least It’s Not Rabies!
Eddie Munson/GN!Reader
+ hints of Steve Harrington/Reader & Steddie
When Vecna was blowtorched, Hawkins was saved. Eddie didn’t make it, until he did... But he’s not the only one who came back different.
there’s potential for a series here, this fits with another WIP i have that’s more of a prequel, and I like the dynamic I’ve written here enough to do a sequel too, if people are interested :)
Word Count: 4.4k
Warnings/Content: Best Friend!Steve has a crush, Boyfriend!Eddie, talk of loss/mourning, gratuitous shirtless Steve, there are no braincells here, hints of protective!Steve, a teeny little bit of blood drinking. no pronouns are used for reader, reader is called Sweetheart. sorta just ends but if i kept going i’d never post it :)
He winces under the harsh light of the store, long beam-lights buzzing and seeming to flicker in his peripheral, unavoidable no matter where he turns. Still, it’s better than natural light, the sun’s brightness giving him a splitting headache and making it super unsafe to drive or even just walk to work.
Thank god you offered to give him a lift.
He knows it’s more of a distraction for you than anything - another task on the list of things to do each day that force you out of bed and into the world, numb but alive as you try to cope with the giant Eddie-sized hole in your chest.
He’s trying too. Sure, he wasn’t dating the guy like you were, but over that long week, Munson had become a friend…
He stays with you most nights, both your sleep schedules fucked beyond fixing. Not that he ever feels tired, still wired up from the events of spring break… he sits and watches you sleep fitfully, closing his eyes to rest briefly only to shake you awake when you cry out for a man who’s not coming home.
It’s hard to believe it’s only been four days…
“I got you these,” you surprise him, setting a pair of sunglasses on the counter of Family Video with a smile, “for your headaches. I know you’ve moved on from that asshole jock personality and the whole Risky Business look might send you back, but… better to look like a dick than pass out, right?”
It’s the most you’ve said at once since it happened. Since you screamed yourself hoarse over Eddie’s body.
“Right,” he nods, smiling, slipping them on. There’s immediate relief. “Thanks.”
“Yeah.” You smile softly, “Try not to get any more concussions, okay?”
“Can’t make any promises,” he shrugs, “You never know what’s gonna crawl out of the ground next.”
You nod, “Pasta for dinner?”
“Sure.” He smiles, “I get off at five.”
“I remember.” You hum, turning to the door, “See you.”
“Hey!” He calls, making you look back, “Don’t push too hard, okay?”
You nod, “Do what I can, I know. You too.”
He nods, watching you go sadly, wishing there was more he could do. He wonders how different things would be if they hadn’t burnt Vecna to a crisp, if Lucas hadn’t managed to save Max… if Hawkins had been split open the way He’d shown Nancy in her mind… If Eddie’s sacrifice hadn’t bought them more time…
He knows it’s the one comfort you have in all this… that he didn’t die for nothing… but having the whole town still blame him for Chrissy and Fred and Patrick doesn’t help you mourn, or heal… You’re still ‘The Freak’s Girlfriend’… And even when Hopper manages to get the cover story on the news and clear Eddie’s name, that label isn’t likely to go away.
He sighs heavily, sitting on the shitty stool behind the coutner, leaning forward and resting his chin on his arms, staring at the door. How any of you are supposed to go back to normal is beyond him… He doesn’t know how he managed it that first time, after the Demogorgon… but then… back then he thought that was it… that there were no more surprises. Now? It’s just about waiting for whatever bullshit comes next.
He lets his eyes slip shut, blocking the rest of the light from his vision, trying to ignore the buzzy lights, to block out the tinnitus he’s suddenly developed in the last week. It’s not so bad right now, but the quiet of the store makes it noticeable, just a soft drumming in his ears… but it’s early, only he and Keith (who’s been hiding in the back room even more than usual) are here… it gets worse through the day, almost deafening when there’s more customers, like it’s louder with every person nearby.
Probably just some side effect of concussion. Definitely not the bat rabies Robin had feared.
He’s way thirstier than usual too… no matter what he drinks, only his mom’s fancy coconut water brings any sort of relief, soothing the dryness of his mouth, and the aches in his body… just as rejuvenating as the carton says. He pulls his backpack up, the itch in the back of his throat getting more persistent as he sits there…
It’s new. The backpack, that is… while his nail-bat stays hidden in the trunk of his car, he’s started carrying everything he might possibly need with him wherever he goes. You’ve got one too, and Robin… each of the kids…
Call him overprotective and overly cautious, but it made him feel useful. Like he could actually do something to help. Even if all the gates in Hawkins are closed, there’s still the rest of the world, and with Eleven living in town again, whatever of Vecna’s Army might get through is gonna make its way back here again eventually.
It doesn’t hurt to be prepared.
He’s got mace, an aerosol and a lighter, a comprehensive first aid kid, a flashlight, his walkie, and two packs of spare batteries. Two bottles of coconut water, a bottle of normal water, rubbing alcohol, tissues, a compass, a pack of granola bars, and a sandwich that gets swapped out every couple of days.
Everything he might need for an immediate defence, a few days on the run, or to help treat a wound.
There’s another bag stashed in the woods too… by Skull Rock. No walkie or sandwich in that one but everything else is there for emergencies.
Paranoia? Maybe.
But a lot better than being caught unawares.
~~~
Pain is the first thing that registers.
Just not where he expected it.
His throat is on fire, mouth dry, but his torso, where he distinctly recalls bat teeth tugging his flesh… is fine? The crick in his neck, the back pain from sleeping on a tiny shitty boat and in the woods… is gone.
He lays still for a while, not even daring to breathe, just… listening… he doesn’t wanna open his eyes and see Vecna leering at him. Or bats sitting around waiting for him to be awake so they can feast on his screams and his flesh all at once.
But there’s nothing…
Just far-off thunder.
He cracks one eye open, then the other, greeted by the dark sky of the Upside Down, flashes of red highlighting the clouds of ash and soot that swirl miles and miles above.
He turns his head, flinching back immediately as a bat rests inches away, it’s mouth open, a lump of what must be him in its teeth.
His lips part with a crack, dryer than this side of WaterGate, and a weak moan escapes him.
The bat doesn’t stir…
It’s not resting, he realises… it’s dead.
He sits up faster than he thought he’d be able to, unsure how long it’s been since he moved, frowning at the state of himself and his surroundings.
His clothes are torn, as expected, but beneath the ripped fabric there’s no wounds… not even scars… his fingernails are longer, dirt trapped beneath them, irritating and itchy, but his rings are all still there… He reaches up, touching his throat gingerly - also no scar… but no chain either, his guitar pick necklace is missing…
His other hand clenches, and he looks down at it, yelling in horror and throwing it out to the side, flinging the demobat several feet away. He’s not sure how he hadn’t realised it was there, a vague memory of trying to weakly pull it off his thigh surfacing… That’s the one place that still hurts a little, where he’s just torn its teeth out of him.
He laughs weakly.
It’s a hive mind… and if these fuckers had died in the middle of their meal, that means Vecna’s dead… he’d bought enough time.
His head tips back, and he looks at the sky again, that one moment of joy curdling in his stomach as he realises… the gates must’ve closed…
They must have…
He- he can’t get home…
Something flickers up ahead, his gaze snapping to it in an instant, eyes narrowed and curious as he stares at the edge of the tree line. As far as he knows, he’s the only thing alive down here. So what on Not-Earth is that?
“Hey Eds.”
He tenses up… it’s quiet, that voice… like a whisper on the wind, but despite all the turmoil in the sky, there’s not even a tiny breeze at ground level. He strains his ears, vaguely aware of his body moving, crawling over himself until he’s on all fours, throat burning as he listens.
“Me again.”
You… he waits, frozen…
“I wanna do this… exact spot but… not quite sure… and they already think… weird for missing you… so I don’t… sit in the road with a candle.”
He frowns, edging closer, hoping he might hear you more clearly if he moves towards where your voice is coming from. He realises, surprised, that the flickering he’d seen was a light… not a real one, but… the same golden cluster of particles he’d last seen in the Wheeler’s house, when Nancy had contacted Dustin…
“- dunno if you can hear me,” your voice continues, “part of me hopes you can’t.”
He clears the rest of the distance quickly, sitting in front of the light, the opposite side to your voice, knowing -somehow- that if he was up there or you were down here, you’d be facing each other with the light in between you.
“It’s been four days.” You keep talking, he hangs on every word, “I miss you so much… I don’t want you to be gone, but if you can hear me then that means you’re still there… you’re stuck… and I don’t know which is worse.”
He pokes the particles, the end of one finger tickles… he wonders if you notice it…
“It’s kinda windy,” he can hear your smile, “And I only brought a candle… I guess it’s so the flickering makes me think you’re really here.”
He frowns, poking it again.
You scoff, “Wishful thinking. I watched you die, Eds… I held you… you stopped breathing, I saw it. I know you died… I just wish- I should’ve brought your body back, but Dustin… he hurt his leg when we came back through the gate, when we ran after you… Silly man… I can’t believe you thought we would just stay up here…” you sniffle, “We had to leave you there, I bet those bats started biting you again as soon as we were gone… We made it back through, though… I watched the gate close, Eddie… It’s like it was never there.”
He wishes he could touch you… just for a moment, just to reach out and give you a second of comfort…
“Chief Hopper’s alive.” You laugh, though he can still hear the pain behind it, “Mrs Byers rescued him from a Russian Prison… like something out of your campaigns except with people not dragons.”
He laughs, incredulous.
Your breathing hitches, “He’s gonna clear your name, Eds. I don’t know how, and it’s all gonna be a big mess, but he’s gonna make sure the world knows you’re innocent. Of murder, at least.”
You’re crying… he can hear it in the thickness of your voice, “I just… One more chance to hug you, and kiss you, that’s all I want. And even if you can hear me… if you’re somehow alive down there… I don’t know how I’ll ever see you again.”
He pushes his whole fist into the golden hue.
You gasp loudly, “Eddie?”
“It’s me, sweetheart.” He rasps.
~~~~~
“Steve!” You burst through the doors, startling him out of conversation with an older lady, who’d asked which of the three tapes in her hands would be nicest for her budgie to watch while she’s out.
You’re a very welcome distraction, even as the pounding in his ears gets worse.
“Hey,” he frowns at you, “I’m sorry, ma’am, could you excuse me - I uh- The Birds is… not a bad choice, excuse me.” He gestures to you, emerging from behind the counter and guiding you into the back room.
Keith rolls his eyes, moaning something about laziness, and lumbers out of the room, giving you privacy without much complaint, though Steve knows he’s in for an earful when you leave.
“Steve…” you’re panting, gasping for breath, having rushed from Forest Hills to his car and driven like a mad thing all the way here, “Steve, he’s alive!”
“What? Who?” He frowns, “Vecna? We barbecued him, remember?”
“Not Vecna… Eddie.” You grab his arm, “Eddie’s alive!”
“Wh-“ he blinks, “What are you talking about?”
“I went to talk to him,” you wet your lips, “Where he died, I went to see him-“
“You-“
“He doesn’t have a grave, Steve!” You point out desperately, “I just… I wanted to talk to him, I didn’t… I wasn’t looking for him, but I had to just-“
“Hey hey, it’s okay, I get it.” He assures, his hands rubbing your upper arms, “I do the same with my Grams.”
You smile faintly, “I took a candle. Just… for respect? I don’t know, I just… maybe part of me…”
“Easy,” he whispers, “Take your time, what happened?”
“I sat in the tree line,” you frown, “Lit the candle, just started talking… and I- it glowed, Steve… brighter than any other candle I’ve ever seen… like he… he was there, on the other side…”
“It wasn’t just the wind?” He frowns.
“I swear it wasn’t,” you insist, “I know it sounds insane, I know I saw him die, but I also know that that candle… He’s alive, Steve… and he’s stuck there.”
He pulls you close, hugging you tightly, “Okay. Okay, we…” he frowns, “I have to say it, just… just in case, okay? Are you sure it was him? That it wasn’t Vecna, somehow? Cause - I believe you saw the candle, okay, but… of the two of them, Eddie’s not the most likely to come back from the dead, y‘know?”
“It was him, Steve.” You nod, “I know it was him.”
He nods, smiling softly, “Then we’ll get him back. Somehow.”
You hug him tighter.
~~~
“We never checked WaterGate.”
It’s Dustin’s first response when you and Steve tell him about the candle. It’s the first thing he says after a few teasing comments about Steve’s new sunglasses. You didn’t go to the adults, or the other kids, just… straight to Dustin.
He’s just as broken up about Eddie as you are, so he’s just as determined to get him back. You’re sure the others would help, with a lot of convincing, but one of the things you love most about Henderson is that he’s all in, no convincing needed. His friend is in trouble so he’s going to help.
“We didn’t?” Steve frowns.
“It’s the only one we couldn’t just look at,” Dustin nods, “And with Max in hospital, we didn’t even think about it.”
You nod, “but the others were closed, so there was no point, right?”
“We thought so.” He shrugs, “We’ve been wrong before. Like the Mind Flayer hiding in Will and the government opening gates without telling us.”
Steve nods, “Alright. I’ll go check?”
“We’ll all go.” Dustin’s firm, won’t be swayed. “You need my help with the compass.”
“And I’m not waiting here alone.” You add.
“Okay,” Steve shrugs, “But we’re just going to check, right? No going through it.”
Dustin’s eyebrows raise, “That’s what you said last time.”
~~~~~
He’s been walking all afternoon, trying to find your candle again… you’d disappeared so quickly, the shock at him making contact severing the small connection you’d formed. He had to find you again.
You’re all he can think of, well, you and the flame in his throat, as his feet guide him all over town, seemingly aimless in their direction until he realises where he is, a soft crunch under his feet making him look down, laughing in surprise as he finds the pin badge that fell off his jacket during the first fight with the bats.
Which means there’s a gate nearby… or there should be.
He sniffs curiously, smiling wide as he follows the scent of water, not caring to step over gnarled black vines, just walking straight through, everything around him dead and decaying…
He crouches down when the smell is overwhelming, grasping at the thickest vines and yanking hard, grimacing as he lifts his hand and it comes back sticky, like a kid who’s covered his hand in pva glue and peeled it off in one big stretchy piece of film… only thicker and with a greater stench of rotting flesh.
He puts aside his disgust for a moment, scraping at the ground, pulling vine after vine away until he uncovers a small black line in the bedrock. Just like the gate where Chrissy died looked before Dustin poked through it with a broom.
He doesn’t have a broom, but he does have one of the discarded oars, snapped in half from bashing a bat’s face in. Better than his fingers.
It opens eventually… just a little… enough to slip through… the cold freshwater of Lover’s Lake not gushing through the gate cause of whatever weird physics keeps the Upside Down... upside down.
He steadies himself, squeezes his eyes shut… reminds himself that this isn’t the first time he’s taken the plunge into this water, that this time, you’re waiting for him somewhere on the other side…
He jumps in, forgetting gravity for a second, his feet suddenly facing the sky. He watches, eyes wide, as the gate knits itself shut and pulls himself around, kicking off the bottom and swimming up, up, up…
He breaks the lake’s surface with a gasp, and a hiss, immediately sinking below again as the sun glints off the water, his eyes sensitive to the light after so long on the other side.
He opens his mouth, greedily swallowing gulps of water, sticking his head out again, eyes closed this time, treading water as he works out his next move.
He’s still so thirsty, his throat still burns, and he’s certain that he could drain the whole lake dry and not be satisfied. He sighs, letting his body float up, lying on his back, throwing an arm over his eyes.
He should get out of the lake. That’s step one.
Find something to eat, check out Rick’s place and finish the rest of the cereal he hadn’t devoured…
Then find you… sneak around and check out all your usual haunts, or… climb up to your window and wait for you in your bedroom. A real Steve Harrington move.
He laughs. Fuck step two, he wants to find you right now.
~~~~~
You’d had to wait for the end of Steve’s shift to check out the lake, by which point the sun was setting. You’d taken a boat out into the centre of the lake, got deja vu as Steve stripped off his jacket, the lowering sun casting nicer light this time- dusky orange instead of that dark purpley-black.
There’s no point in him going down there, really. The compass works perfectly. There’s no gate.
But it helps to be sure. To be certain that, if you were right, Eddie was stuck in the Upside Down for good.
Maybe you shouldn’t have brought Dustin…
Steve breaks the surface, “No gate.” He frowns, reaching for the sunglasses, eyes dry even though the rest of him is soaked.
You hold back from crying again, bottom lip quivering, “okay.”
“We’ll find a way,” Dustin assures, “Get El to open a little gate somewhere and then close it up again as soon as he’s safe.”
You shake your head, “We can’t ask her to do that.”
“For Eddie.”
“He wouldn’t want to risk-“ you shake your head, “He died to save the town, Dustin, or… almost died… whatever happened, he- he wouldn’t want us to risk the world all over again, just for him. As much as we might want to.”
“Come on,” Steve sighs, “Let’s get home.”
~~~~~
You stayed near the lake, not quite ready to leave. But Dustin had a curfew, and homework, and all sorts of things normal teenage boys have to deal with, so Steve drove him home.
“I’ll be fine.” You’d insisted, “Just come get me in a while.”
You needed to be alone.
To reprocess losing him all over again.
Backpack slung over one shoulder, you start walking, taking the not-so-familiar trail towards skull rock, Steve’s designated pick up point where he’d come find you before it got too late.
With a Walkman blaring in your ears, the mixtape Eddie had made you drowns out the noises of the forest - far from safe in Hawkins, but with no gates, the most dangerous thing was human, and they’re not all that scary when you’ve faced creatures from another dimension.
It means you don’t hear the footsteps behind you, the crack of twigs and the rustle of leaves.
Your only focus is trying not to cry when Master of Puppets plays and you remember how metal he looked on the roof of that trailer… how terrified you were of the oncoming bats… how happy you were to watch him in his element.
You don’t notice when he comes up behind you.
Your only clue that something’s amiss is sudden, unexpected… a sharp yank of the backpack, sending you sprawling to the floor, landing on your ass.
“Fuck, you smell good, sweetheart.” Eddie groans.
Eddie.
Eddie!
“Missed me?”
You stare up at him, pulling the headphones from your ears, “You’re really here?”
He nods, “yeah.”
“Why’d you pull me over?” You stare.
He stares at you, not meeting your eyes. You think for a moment that he’s looking at your lips, but… he’s staring, fixated on your neck. “Dunno.”
You right yourself quickly, scrambling to pull the sandwich from the bag, grabbing some coconut water too - you’re not sure if he likes it, but Steve had insisted on you carrying it, and you know Eddie would rather drink anything other than plain water. “You must be starving.”
You stand, a few feet between you, the food dangling from your fingers as you stare at him.
“Ravenous.” He agrees.
It’s not quite the reunion you had in mind… not like those movies where the two lovers run at each other in the rain and hug and kiss like they’ll never get the chance again…
You’re stuck in place, like you don’t know what to do with yourself, both of you just… observing the other in silence.
“You said you wanted one more chance to hug me and kiss me,” he smiles.
“More than one.” You whisper, “At least one every day for the rest of my life.”
He grins, “Can do. Starting now?”
You nod, still frozen. He steps forward, the hair on the back of your neck standing up. He seems different, somehow… but trauma will do that to a person. God knows after your first experience of this shit you’d been wired and on edge for over a week.
You sob as he gets within reach, finally shaking yourself out of the stupor and pulling him in, closing the rest of the distance as you cling to his soaked clothes, shredded camo vest sticking to your cheek as you hold him.
His arms wrap around you too, and he inhales deeply, tightening his grip, “I missed you. Only woke up this morning and there you were… calling to me.”
“Eddie…” you whisper, “fuck… I thought I lost you…”
“I’m here, sweetheart.” He assures, “I’m not leaving you again. Never again.” His face buries into your neck, and he presses kiss after kiss over the sensitive skin, “you smell so good… ‘m so hungry…”
“Then eat,” you smile, pulling back to cup his cheek with your free hand, “and drink.”
He groans, diving into the crook of your neck again, giving you less than a second to process what’s happening before his teeth pierce your flesh, his hand flies up to cup the back of your head, holding you still as he eats and drinks from you, with your consent. Sort of. It’s good enough.
“E-ddie-“ you gasp, “oh— what-?”
His throat stops burning for the first time since he woke up, and he pulls back, lapping over where he bit you with a dazed expression before he drops you, retreating several steps with a hand over his mouth, horrified with himself.
“Holy shit-!” He stares at you, “what the fuck- I’m- I’m so sorry sweetheart, I don’t- what the fuck-!?”
You’re lightheaded, and take a moment to recover from the sudden blood loss, sinking to the forest floor, staring at him. “Bats…”
“Huh?” He stares.
“You- you were bitten by bats…” you lift a shaky hand, pointing to his torn clothes, “You’re healed…”
“Yeah.” He nods, “I bit you.”
You nod too, “You did.”
“Wh- what the fuck!?”
You break out into laughter, mind racing with questions and thoughts and wild theories that make no sense.
He huffs, fingers feeling his teeth, eyes widening as he finds fangs instead of canines… “Jesus Christ…”
“You’re a fucking vampire, Eddie.” You breathe. “Or… maybe Robin was right to be scared, and you’ve got bat rabies…”
“Fuck…” he scoffs, “A vampire? That’s insane.”
“You’re the one that bit me!” You laugh, “fuck… I just wanted you to be alive again…”
“If I’m a vampire,” he hums, “I don’t think I am. Alive, I mean.”
You shake your head, “but you’re here. I don’t care how or what you are, you’re here. That’s enough.”
He closes the distance between you again, “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You smile, cupping his cheek, pulling him in to kiss him, wrinkling your nose as you pull back, “Brush your teeth, and then we’ll make out like we always used to.”
He laughs, “you got it, sweetheart.” He sniffs, “What drink is that?”
“Hm?” You look to where you’d discarded the sandwich, “coconut water?”
He hums, “doesn’t smell so bad.” He reaches for it, handing you the sandwich, “get that blood sugar up, babe. I don’t wanna accidentally eat you again.”
You smile, biting the sandwich, “You want some?”
“Can I even eat solid food?” He frowns, twisting the cap off the water, giving it a cautious sniff before downing half the carton.
“Eds?” You hesitate.
“Mm?”
“Your eyes hurt, right? In the sun?”
“Uh huh.” He nods.
“And you- can you hear stuff really well?”
“There’s a drum in my ear…” he nods, “Think it’s your heartbeat.”
You swallow hard, “And that water, did it help? The burning in your throat?”
He nods, “How’d you know?”
“Steve.”
“Huh?”
“Steve got bitten by the bats too.” You clarify. “He’s-“
“Harrington’s a vampire too!?” Eddie stares at you.
A twig cracks a little way away, and you both look over, finding Steve, hands on his hips, “I’m a what?”
#eddie munson x reader#steve harrington x reader#eddie munson fic#steve harrington fic#eddie munson/reader#steve harrington/reader#eddie munson x reader x steve harrington#steve harrington x reader x eddie munson#steve harrington/reader/eddie munson#eddie munson/reader/steve harrington#eddie munson x you#steve harrington x you#gn!reader#stuffiwrote#steddie x reader
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I know it's not the WIP Wednesday yet, but it is my birthday, so I'm gonna share the complete first chapter of Modern Steve in 80s Hawkins for your reading pleasure lmao:
"Now, Steve, you know we support you. Your father and I didn't bat an eye when you came out, and we look forward to meeting whichever nice young boy or girl you bring home. But, dear, violence is never the answer."
The words go in one ear and right out the other as Steve watches buildings rush by outside the window. He’d slip on the headphones around his neck, but Steve knows he at least owes his parents the courtesy of naked ears after they bailed him out. Really, he just wants to take a shower and change into clean clothes after spending a night in jail surrounded by equally sweaty and beat up parade-goers. Don’t get him wrong; the people were great, but the smell was atrocious. He lets his head fall against the window, eyes shutting as he breathes through a bruised rib, split lip, and swollen eye.
"Steve, are you listening to your mother?"
"Yeah, violence bad," he mumbles, just loud enough to be heard in the otherwise silent car. At this point, he’d even prefer the stadium country that usually plays when his dad drives.
He wishes he were back in the jail cell, swapping stories with the others who got arrested for fighting homophobic protestors, who started it, by the way. He knows his parents are disappointed in him for fighting (and, even worse, getting caught and potentially causing An Incident for them), but he felt genuinely happy sitting on the concerningly sticky floor in that cell. Even if he could go back to yesterday, he wouldn't change a damn thing after seeing three poor kids surrounded by people shouting the most vile things.
They had looked terrified, tears crowding in their eyes as they clutched at each other, and Steve had seen red. It was a fucking pride parade, a place where kids should feel comfortable being themselves and seeing themselves in the smiling, laughing faces of strangers whose mere existence proves they’re not alone and they’ll survive. But they were being harassed by people with nothing better to do than let hate shrivel their hearts.
Steve, thankfully, hadn’t been the only one who’d seen red. He’d locked eyes with someone who had top surgery scars and a sash across their chest that read “Queer” in sparkling, rainbow letters. Next to them was a shorter woman with close-cropped hair and a flannel shirt (how she wasn’t dying in the heat, Steve will never know) with a white t-shirt underneath that had “Resting Butch Face" emblazoned across the front. The three of them had shared a nod and marched over to the kids.
He later learned that the person wearing the sash was named Daze (“They/them pronouns, unless it’s comedically appropriate to use something else,” they’d said in the jail cell, winking playfully at Steve). The butch went by Mar; she’d excitedly told Steve in the jail cell how her girlfriend would bust her out only to laugh her ass off when said girlfriend was shoved in by two cops not a second later.
What had followed the nod was Mar and Steve standing in front of the kids, creating an unmoving shield while Daze quickly gathered them close. They smiled at the three, quietly complimenting one’s rainbow hair ribbon while Steve tried to be the voice of reason (he shouldn’t have bothered, but he’s still got a little optimism inside).
The first punch was thrown by the ringleader of the protestors after Mar not-so-subtly implied that maybe he’d rather be partying with them and getting his tongue down some cute twink’s throat instead of holding signs and shouting. She’d taken the punch like a champ, and Steve’s grin mirrored hers when the wonderful, incredible term “self-defense” suddenly became applicable.
Daze had gotten the kids out of there, keeping them calm even as more people joined in the fight, turning the little skirmish into an all out brawl. It had lasted five glorious minutes before cops finally broke it up, forcing protestors and pride-goers into cars together in zip ties. They had realized that was a bad idea when a drag queen headbutted a protestor for what he called her.
After a night in jail, bonding with his cellmates and writing down numbers with some femme’s spare lipstick on the back of a flier from an AT&T booth, his parents had arrived to bail him out. Steve had taken one look at them, at their business clothes and designer watches and worried, beyond confused expressions, and almost said he’d rather just stay behind bars for now.
Instead, he convinced his parents to post bail for a few of his new friends, waved off their gratitude (they’d been through battle together, after all), and followed his parents out to the car after a few hugs and promises to make a group chat so they could hang out later.
“You’re just lucky no charges were filed,” his father says, pulling Steve from his thoughts.
He sighs, slumping down in his seat. A few seconds pass before Steve admits, “I’d do it again.” It’s the truth; he wouldn’t fucking hesitate to throw himself into the fray again. He doesn’t even know those kids’ names, but he knows they deserve more than being afraid of who they are and the monsters that masquerade in human skin around them.
His parents glance at each other, a thousand words spoken in the brief moment of eye contact. “Steve, are you…okay?” his mother asks, her words hesitant. “I mean, you can tell us anything, dear, and we’ll do anything to make you feel better.”
Steve bites his tongue, refusing to ask how they’d manage that when they’re barely fucking home in the first place. They have a whole multi-million dollar company to run, so he gets it. They have to travel a lot, and they used to bring him along until just dropping him in Indianapolis sophomore year of high school (right after coming out to them, which he understood but was still hurt by) to have a “more grounded high school experience." Somehow worst of all, they try to make up for it with extravagant gifts and awkward conversations about whether he’s still gay or if he’s decided to be straight for the day.
They’ve yet to fully understand the concept of bisexuality, but this is far better than being kicked out of his home.
“I’m fine, Mom,” Steve says. Because he is. He’s just…tired.
He’s tired of feeling alone in Indianapolis despite being surrounded by people. He had tried making friends, but everyone is so fucking awkward in 10th grade anyway, and the best Steve could do was embrace the “new rich kid” persona people created for him. He’d soon gained the nickname King Steve, which had only worked to make him feel like he’d somehow done something wrong in living up to their expectations. The closest he’s gotten to feeling like himself, to feeling accepted and embraced, was in that fucking jail cell.
Even worse, Steve is tired of this ache that tugs at the base of his spine and the pit of his heart like he’d find something that’s missing if only he’d just follow the pull.
He doesn’t know how to explain any of that, though, so Steve just sighs again and says, “Maybe…maybe I could do with some down time. Like, a gap year before college or something. I think I just need some time to figure myself out a little more and decide what I want to do with my life before jumping right back into school. Does…does that make sense?”
“Yeah, Steve, it makes a lot of sense,” his father says, flashing him a tiny smile through the rearview mirror. “So, where do you want to go? Hawaii? Miami? Venice is nice this time of year.”
Steve can’t help a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Nah, nothing like that. I think small town vibes are more what I’m going for here.”
His father just hums quietly, sharing another one of those looks with Steve’s mom. He misses this one, but he’d probably be suspicious of them if he hadn’t. He would have known immediately that they were about to do something absolutely ridiculous but well-meaning but so clearly telling of their ignorance when it comes to how people who aren’t wealthy approach problems.
But he doesn’t see, so he doesn’t know.
And when he looks back on this moment a few months later, after the absolute ride of his fucking life, Steve will think it’s a good thing he didn’t notice. If he had, he’d have said something, and then he’d have missed out on all the fun.
#Modern Steve in 80s Hawkins#Stranger Things#Steve Harrington#Steddie fic#my writing#the doc for this is over 40 pages now and like 21k but we're barely halfway through#it's like baby's first slowburn cuz Steddie met at 13k or so LOL
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Untitled Biker AU WIP
Paring: Cinder Fall/Ruby Rose
Trans character with gender-neutral pronouns
Summary:
Cinder is an ex-bike gang member trying hard to stay on the straight and narrow. Ruby is a reckless delivery driver on a rickety moped. They collide. Literally.
AN: I'm posting a WIP because I'm bored of seeing this unfinished in my docs. Take it, god please. If you want to see art related to this:
LINK
LINK
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Ruby swallowed down a metallic taste.
She had been to a few bars, sure. Sometimes an in-town local for a solitary sunday lunch between her delivery shifts. Others, a popular spot in the upper-city blaring with colorful strobes and upbeat music. This was a little more…rustic than she was used to.
Ruby glanced at her surroundings. For better or worse, it took a while to notice how the poorly air-conditioned building heightened the stale tinge of old booze. Worn upholstery seats that had undoubtedly suffered more than a few drunken fights were dotted with dubious blotches, while underhand, a mahogany-stained bar top left behind the sticky residue of one too many spilled drinks.
Tinny acoustics drifted from one corner of the room, not sure if she could chalk it up to the ancient-looking jukebox, or if everything was just a little garbled right now.
All were things that sat somewhere in the backseat of her mind, slotted behind a firm wall of arctic adrenaline, hands and feet pulsing with an aching cold.
Her legs wobbled like viscous jelly, the beginnings of pain springing somewhere in the background, even if she couldn’t quite pinpoint where yet.
Maybe opting against the hospital, and agreeing to jump on the back of the very motorcycle she'd rear-ended wasn’t her finest moment. It was more a question of which one she could afford.
“Just give me the back room for a few-”
"And pay off another peeler to ignore whatever shit you've just walked into my bar again? Do you think I'm made of money?"
Trying not to listen in on the heated conversation went about as successfully as expected: A dive bar in the dead of the afternoon didn’t exactly provide Ruby with many distractions. Trying hard not to listen in she squirmed uncomfortably. The leg that was raw red and exposed between her decimated jeans bounced on the footrest of her bar stool.
"It’s not like that. Not this time. I know I messed up the -"
"Two-thousand that i'll never see again,” Hissed a woman with an accent so far flung that Ruby was having trouble keeping up, “A bull in a fucking china shop is what you are, Cinder."
"Fine, not in the back- out front. Just till’ she's fixed up, then I'm out of your hair."
The sidelong glance Ruby couldn't help taking saw a thoroughly unimpressed frown as the angry woman shifting her weight, arms crossed. The sheer size of Cinder- that was their name- in comparison to the two others was staggering.
However it wasn't hard to deduce that this was something of a routine.
"She just went into the back of me.” Cinder urged, and something told Ruby that these two were not used to hearing the truth. “That’s it, I swear. C'mon C."
Flanking the angry woman who Ruby summarized to be the bar owner, The shortest of the three had stood, silent and assessing up until now.
Intrinsic ink stretched over broad shoulders and thick arms that were crossed in a similar fashion, blooms of watercolor spinning life among sleeves of flowers and skulls.
They leaned in, muttering something into the ear of the woman, C, who then looked up, over her shoulder and directly at Ruby, a pinpoint blue glare melting into resignation.
"I expect money to cross my counter,” C finally announced after a moment, “and then I want you and her out, you hear me?"
-
"Thanks for that, A." Cinder said, and it earned a narrow stare.
“Didn't you rip the centerpiece off the roof, and beat someone with it last time? On top of that you conveniently forgot to pay your tab before the police arrested you. So no, I didn’t do it for you.”
"Hey, he was a big guy. And I thought you hated that tacky chandelier?”
"I did. But she loved it." Candidness chased a flicker of affection warming in the bartender's eyes, as they watched the owner, C, flitting around the room cleaning tables in an angry frenzy.
Ruby thought It was kind of endearing.
"Looks like you could do with something stiff."
Ruby snapped to attention when she realized A's statement was directed at her. There was an easy, non-threatening kind charm in their expression that eased the intensity in the room.
Ruby skimmed the menu above the bar. Her orders had forever been whatever tooth-rotting drink was on the menu, typically topped up with so much caffeine that she could feel her hand vibrate on the throttle of her scooter during the drive home.
But perhaps this time the bartender, A, was onto something. Anything to steady her shaking hands sounded good right about now, and considering how much of a mess she must have looked right now it wasn’t like she’d be driving anytime soon.
"Have you maybe got Tilt? Or, uh, Dragon Soop?"
Ice clinked against glass, a low chuckle emanating from the bar stool beside Ruby. A tumbler of rich amber was tipped back between a shrewd, air-chapped grin, drawing Ruby to the warm color of her company's eye, alight with glinting amusement.
"What?" Ruby grumbled.
When the barstool next to her creaked under a shift of weight- a lot of weight- Ruby was trying not to look at Cinder. Which was very difficult.
“Another old-fashioned, A. And a coke for soft-boiled here.”
“I hate coke.” She didn’t, but she did hate the absolutely crippling loss of control she was experiencing right about now.
It wasn’t even about crashing her bike anymore. No, that was just the beginning in a string of poor decisions.
She was no expert, but the kind of patches littered on the leathers of a biker that was as broad as they were intimidating gave away particular gang allegiances, even if Ruby couldn’t be completely sure what most of them meant.
And of course, she had to T-bone the back of one of them.
The next was arguably not her fault, and started somewhere around the point she’d been scraped off of the ground, bleary and disorientated. She hadn’t quite realized that instinctually obeying the gruff request of ‘Hold On’ meant that her torso would be pressed to the rider’s chest, or that she’d be bodily carried under her thighs by a single arm.
Ruby didn't remember a lot about the walk other than it feeling like an eternity, not really thinking about the fact that she’d probably hit the ground some ways from wherever her vespa ended up, but that she was clung to a complete stranger like a stupid koala.
From there, it only got worse.
When she'd been placed on the tail seat of a large cruiser, Ruby remembered the proud throb of a v-twin engine thumping low in her breast.
An armored glove holding her face had kept her firmly centered while answered a few basic questions among the static.
3 things came to light: She had no money on her, her scroll and wallet were nowhere to be found, and the broad tower of leather above her was utterly intimidating.
As if bearing the sight of them-of Cinder- *without* all that leather wasn’t bad enough, the fact that it had been thrown around Ruby was even worse.
That heavy jacket hadn't moved from Ruby’s shoulders since the accident, though the surrounding weight was comforting, holding her together where adrenaline would see her shaken to pieces. Something about the smell eased her nerves too, old leather and tobacco sitting above the cutting smell of engine oil. Ruby was silently glad she hadn’t given it back yet.
“So are you going to tell me your name? Or do I have to wait for the invoice to repair my bike?”
“It’s Ruby. And you already know I don’t have any insurance.” Otherwise she’d probably be sitting in A&E right now, not in this sweltering hole in the wall.
A returned shortly with both drinks, a bottle of coke with the cap intact and a bottle opener passed Ruby. A thin, knowing smile was offered with no prompt for payment before she and Cinder were left alone again.
Ruby didn’t question it and popped the cap anyway, until Cinder chimed in: “In case you think one of us is packing benzo’s.”
“I didn’t think that.” Ruby countered immediately.
“Maybe not, but I can tell that an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people is setting off all sorts of alarms between your ears right now.”
That she couldn't argue with.
“C has a temper like a banshee. And A could probably put me in the ground if I deserved it. But they’re good folks. Better than most.”
"Can I..uh..ask about the letter thing?" Ruby said after a moment.
Cinder shrugged, "You can ask."
Ruby didn’t, raising the coke bottle with a trembling hand and taking small, conservative sips. Her stomach was still full of knots, but admittedly the sugar was helping.
Polishing off a second glass in moments, Cinder sank forward on her stool, a curious, solitary eye burning heat in Ruby’s face.
She imagined its twin and missing left arm had all met the same fate; A stub at the epicenter of scar tissue consumed the entirety of one side, reaching across from beneath an oil-stained tank to color Cinder's face and chest like a jagged, broken web.
Despite that, Cinder was far, far thicker than Ruby first gave credit for, a stacked physique hidden beneath perforated leather when Ruby's trashed Vespa had been dragged off the road, dumped it on the sidewalk like it weighed nothing.
The stool next to Ruby made a creak of relief as Cinder stood, and Ruby's eyes nearly bugged out of her head when watching them sink to one knee. The hand around her leg was so large that Ruby’s ankle nearly disappeared under Cinder’s grip, rippling warmth felt even through her sock.
Angling Ruby’s leg a little towards the light, it was the first time she’d really acknowledged the state of herself: The road rash looked gruesome, raw red from calf to thigh with gravel and god-knew-what-else was caught in her skin. Her arm stung too, but she’d taken the worst of the fall on one side.
Her jeans hadn’t stood a chance against the road, mangled around her leg as Cinder lifted pieces of it away from her skin with shocking gentleness. It stung like heck, but it wasn’t responsible for making her cheeks warm.
“Could have been worse.” Cinder commented while Ruby burned under the inspection, “Could have been better.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ruby muttered, in case it came out in any way breathless. Cinder moved her foot, letting the sole of her shoe press on the top of a very broad thigh. Reaching for a back pocket, Ruby stiffened at the click of a pocket knife snapping free from its handle in Cinder's hand.
If Cinder noticed the tremble in her knee she didn’t react to it. The blade must have been kept sharp, watching as it sheared through the denim with barely a tear until cool metal kissed Ruby’s thigh.
Cinder leaned forwards, body pressed into the motion of the slice in the absence of another hand to steady the fabric. They smelled just like their jacket, burning oil and smoke with a stronger hit of cologne, grounded and spiced and so good that it made Ruby’s mouth dry up.
A complete stranger had a blade between her legs and she was thinking about everything except how dangerous this whole situation was. Typical.
“It means you scooter drivers end up as a statistic because you think you’re too good to wear some basic gear.”
Pursing her lips together and swallowing hard, Ruby tried to look anywhere that wasn’t the rolling flex of her broad shoulders. “I deliver takeaway for tips. What makes you think I can afford real riding gear?”
“Fine. So what were you doing?" Cinder asked, "Fucking around on your scroll?” Oh god. The way the cuss rolled low off the tongue like it was part of the sentence shouldn’t have been so..so..
"I told you I don't know.” Ruby grimaced, gripping the sides of her stool like a lifeline. “I just- I was distracted."
“The bike goes where it's told to.”
That was the first lesson the instructors had drilled into her and around half a dozen greenhorns taking their basic motorcycle training. Sure, she’d had some close calls before, a few angry shouts thrown her way when in hindsight, one maneuver or another hadn’t been her smartest move. She’d always scraped through. Barely.
“Must have been one hell of a distraction. I’m pretty hard to miss.”
Cinder’s voice was low and smokey, flashing Ruby a lazy grin that showed a glint of metal teeth. The bridge tracked back from a sharper incisor, probably lost by whatever had claimed the rest of their left side, and it wasn’t attractive, didn’t fill heat in Ruby’s cheeks like a jug.
"Thought I hit a pothole to be honest." The knife circled just a few inches above the knee, shearing from Ruby's inner-to-outer thigh. "Leg up." Cinder said.
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wip Wednesday #1!!
t4t komahina won,, so here it is!! all of this is the first draft so it's a bit rough,, but I might remake this one if it's popular
plus I have another t4t oneshot I'm working on,, I will post that one eventually
slight warning for internalized homophobia
Hinata huffed, tightness straining across his chest. His shirt wasn’t helping the feeling, damp and rough against his skin. God, he was getting dizzy–
Fuck.
Hinata lifted the bar one last time, setting it on the rack with a sharp clang. He felt disgusting, but he wasn't even halfway through his usual workout. All in all, he had to finish twelve more reps.
“Great job, Komaeda!”
Nidai’s voice rang throughout the weight room. Hinata froze and sat up, hurriedly adjusting his shirt. Hinata fixed it right as Nidai ran around the corner, laughing loudly.
“Hinata! What brings you here?!” Nidai grinned, popping his knuckles. “Were you planning to join our training routine?”
“No, I just decided to work out. Sometimes you just feel like it, you know?” Hinata breathed out slowly, trying to regulate his heart rate.
“Of course! Exercise is great for you!”
Komaeda walked into the room right as Nidai struck a pose, nearly smacking him in the face.
It's fine, obviously, since they were both – Hinata screwed his eyes shut, hands tightening against the chair. He couldn't even bring himself to say it. Surely that's what it was, right? He couldn't be a boy, no matter how comfortable and light he felt while dressing to look more masculine. And Komaeda… well, Hinata wasn't sure. What was he? Hinata knew that Komaeda used he/him pronouns, but what…?
Shit, this is wrong. I can't think like that.
After a moment of silence, Hinata spoke.
“Well,” he started, voice cracking awkwardly. “I should probably ask you something.”
“Mm?” Komaeda didn't look up from his book. “What is it?”
“Firat, can I have your attention for once?”
“Why should I give you even a fraction of it?” He flipped a page, nose twitching. “Why would I give you anything?”
Komaeda tucked a piece of hair behind his ear, almost delicately. It was nearly ironic. Komaeda, being delicate? Hinata knew better than anyone about just how much Komaeda was willing to do for the things he believed in.
“This is serious.” Hinata scowled and forcefully slammed Komaeda's book shut. “We need to talk.”
“I need you to shut up, Hinata.”
Hinata gestured towards Komaeda. “What exactly are you?”
“Compared to you I'm nearly a god, but in the grand scheme of things I'm merely a pathetic worm. To put it simply, you're below one of the worst people in–”
Hinata waved his hand, flicking Komaeda in the arm lightly. Komaeda hissed and smacked him back.
“That's not what I'm talking about, Komaeda. I mean, what gender are you?”
“Oh.” Komaeda stopped and looked at him, pursing his lips. “Why does it matter?”
“You keep– stop responding with that! I'm not going to force you to tell me but I want something, a ‘I don't want to talk about it,' or anything else, please.” Hinata breathed out a heavy sigh between his teeth.
“‘Please?’” Komaeda smirked, reaching for his book again. “I didn't expect you to start begging.”
Komaeda flipped back to his page, settling into the cushions with a smile. Hinata obviously couldn't get anything else out of him, so he did the same and picked up his own textbook.
Aside from the terrible start, it was a nice day. The winter air was still trying to creep in through the windows, but the library held fast. It always managed to stay exactly the same temperature throughout every season, but was reserved mainly for the ultimates. Hinata’s money was probably being funneled into it. The thought made his anger flare.
Eventually, finally, Komaeda spoke.
“It’s really not my right to tell you, but I'm a trans guy.”
“You are?” Hinata looked at him, surprised. “You, uh, didn't have to tell me that you're trans, you could've said you're a guy, but I'm glad you trust me with that. A lot of people act strange once they know, but I promise I won't.”
“I got the surgery too, which I'm still upset about. It was a terribly selfish act and I had no right to indulge in that.” Komaeda continued, talking without regard for Hinata’s own words.
“Komaeda.” Hinata stared the man down, resisting the urge to shove his book down again. “Getting top surgery isn't a crime. It's good that you chose to take care of yourself.”
“Coincidentally, a surge of bad luck was enough to teach me a lesson! I was hit by a truck the very next day.” Komeada flipped a page in his book, face perfectly calm. “I broke three ribs and cracked my left tibia. It's one of the reasons I struggle with walking nowadays.”
“...Holy shit, what do I even–”
“So, are you happy now? Getting an ultimate to spill his life story?”
“Yes, I'm obviously glad I know what your gender is. Can you promise me something?”
Komaeda sighed. “I can't promise you anything, but tell me anyway.”
“...Fine. I’m trans too, Komaeda.”
The room went dead quiet, shadowed by the fact that they were the only ones in the library. Komaeda looked confused– curious, maybe? Hinata looked away, directing his attention to his book. His fingers dug into the pages, trembling.
“I couldn't have deduced that if I tried, Hinata.” Komaeda kept his gaze steady, paying attention for once in his life. “I really could've sworn you were a cis man.”
“Oh.” Hinata smiled shakily, feeling warmth bloom in his chest. “You too. You've always seemed like some sort of fairy, I've never been able to tell what your gender was.”
“Fairy…” Komaeda trailed off. “I've never heard that before.”
“Well, now you have. Congratulations.” Hinata responded with a dry smile. His phone buzzed and he checked it, thumbing over the faint cracks in the screen. It was getting dark, and curfew was drawing uncomfortably near.
He stood up, bones popping as he gathered his materials. He shoved his books back into his bag and stood, but Komaeda grabbed his arm, squeezing it with a strange sort of strength.
“Before you go,” Komaeda breathed out. “I appreciate you telling me this.”
“Yeah, it's no problem.”
Probably. God only knows what Komaeda might do with this.
Hinata yanked his arm out of Komaeda's grasp, fuming silently.
“Goodbye, Hinata. Stay safe!” Komaeda chimed happily, waving his hand. “Try not to get beaten by the guards again!”
Hinata grit his teeth and walked off, pointedly trying to ignore the feeling of Komaeda’s eyes on his back.
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To Cry for the Moon Part 10 (Moon Knight x Female Eternal!Reader)
Author's Note: The one is going to be tough, but I promise it will pay off. We actually do have a plan for this story.
Please do not take, copy, or translate without talking to me first. Reblogs, likes, and comments are encouraged. But anything else please message me first. I work really hard on these, I was a writing apprentice for a comic book writer and learned this craft despite having issues I had to overcome, like essential tremors, a mild reading disability, and aphantasia. I put my heart and soul into everything I write. Thank you.
The story idea, and most of the voicemails to Steven & Marc were written by @jupitersmoon167 (the original post I saw is here!) Also realized I should probably add content warnings, so I did and tagged them. If you think I missed a warning please send me an ask. I try to tw tag even the tiniest thing so no one has to suffer if I can help it.
Y/N = Your Name. Y/N/N = Your Nickname. Reader pronouns She/Her. Story is 3rd person POV. Italics are the reflected alter talking.
Tag Requests are Open just message me.
Tagged: @rosaren2498, @yuugenmomo, @faefanatic, @urlocallsimp @assassinsasha23, @queenariesofnarnia, @rmoonstoner, @crypticruler, @animelover18, @philiasoul, @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol, @22carolina08, @preciousbabypeter
Primary Pairing: Steven Grant x Eternal!Reader, Marc Spector x Eternal!Reader, Khonshu x Ma'at!Reader
Content Warning: Mental Illness, Injury, Death, Violence, Fighting
Word Count: 2k+ (for those curious the whole fic wc is 17,332. And it is nowhere near done lol)
WIP Series Masterlist
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 11, Part 12
Part 10: Seemingly the End
After getting off the plane painful memories came rushing back. Y/N had not been back here since the Eternals separated. It was a painful memory but she pushed through it. After taking a short trip to a small city, Y/N pulls out her phone. She makes one last call before they venture too far from the jungle-surrounded city to have signal. She calls Steven and isn't surprised to hear his outgoing voicemail again.
“Screw the theatrics, I don’t even know if you’re even going to get this. We’re in the middle of the god damn Amazon because Druig thought it would be a grand fucking idea to place his cult here of all places. He’s a stubborn bastard, but if we’re gonna pull this off we need him. I'm sorry, Marc, Steven. I am so sorry. Osiris can tell you what is happening, all Khonshu has to do is ask. Khonshu was more right about me than he could have ever known. And well, I meant it earlier when I said you should talk to your dad, you uh, never know when he’ll kick the bucket, so to speak. I miss you guys, I wish I could talk-” she lost signal as they got further from the city. She hoped enough of the message went through. She put her phone away and took to the air to attempt to narrow down Druig's commune location.
Her feet touch the ground as they near the modest commune. She could feel the people around them. Their hearts are kind and welcoming. She watches the people around her as the others talk. They all feel like good people. She can feel their loyalty. It's quiet and content. Her focus is drawn and she feels herself truly smile for the first time since leaving London when Druig finally walks out.
"Please," Druig says with a smirk, "Make yourselves at home."
He studied Y/N as she got closer. "Who do I need to control off a cliff for taking the stars from your eyes?" Druig asks as she finally near him.
"Wouldn't kill him, or them, if you did, but you'd probably still enjoy it," Sprite told him. Druig raised a brow.
"Doesn't matter," Y/N says, knowing it was so much more than her issues with Marc and Steven. "It's good to see you." It wasn't a lie. She always missed Druig. He was more her brother than the others. Druig could always understand how overwhelming her powers were. How being surrounded by people was a blessing and a curse. He could feel the minds around him like a constant buzz. Y/N always felt the same thing but instead of minds, it was hearts. Having to sit back and watch the wars and conflicts as time went on weighed on her heart as it did his mind. They had an understanding of things that the others just couldn't comprehend. The heart and the mind were vital to human existence after all. The only difference was he could control minds, she had to judge hearts as is. And honestly, he thinks he was given the easier task.
Druig rolls his eyes but hugs her, he didn't need to read her mind to know how broken she was. "Told you that you should have come with me. They would have loved you. No one would have broken your heart." He gestures to the members of his commune.
"Ask me again after you talk to everyone else," she tells him.
"I might just hold you to it." Druig grins.
"I might just let you." Y/N hugs him again.
Druig chuckles as he pulls away, and goes to the main hall with her just behind him.
She knew he was stubborn but she had hoped he wouldn't resist them so much. He gets under everyone's skin so easily sometimes. And Ikaris made it easy. It didn't help Sersi's phone went off. It made Y/N want to check hers, but she knew she wouldn't have anything. Marc didn't want anything to do with her. No need to waste the battery. Instead she reached out with her powers to feel the community Druig had cultivated for years. They were so content. It wasn't easy knowing if the team failed, these people would die. Her attention was drawn back by Ikaris saying Druig was wasting their time. Druig hadn't agreed to join them. She wasn't really surprised. She had been hopeful, but not unrealistic.
Y/N follows Druig out. "You told me to ask you to stay again," he says.
"I did," Y/N replied.
"Would you?" He asks.
"Not if it means I'd just have to stay here and watch them all die without trying to stop it. Osiris and Isis believe we can stop it. I have let them down enough ready, I have to try."
"And you're here to convince me to help," he states.
"I'm here because I missed you and I would feel better if you were there. Is it so bad I wanted to see one of my best friends one last time before we all might die or get reset? Yes, I was hoping you would help us, but I'm not going to make you."
"You still wouldn't join me, would you? You love your human too much, the one that broke your heart. You could always bring him."
"His mind would drive you up a wall. They have at least 3 personalities and Khonshu in their head."
"Sounds crowded," Druig admits. "But does sound amusing. Haven't had a new challenge in centuries."
"If you want a challenge then join us, forcing a celestial to sleep, I don't think you could find a bigger challenge."
"I see what you did there," Druig says, shaking his head.
"And you know me too well to know I can't just let humanity end because of Arishem's lies. I've always been willing to die for the truth, only this time I genuinely might."
"Try not to," he says. Before they can say much more, they hear Sersi shouting. Deviants. Deviants had found them. Y/N takes off running, summoning her wings as she did. She flies and joins Kingo in trying to buy the others enough time to get the villagers clear of the fight. As Kingo focuses on keeping one of them busy, Y/N tries to keep them away from where Sersi is leading the people. She shouts for Sersi when the other Eternal is hit while trying to fortify the building. Y/N immediately launches a round of feathers at the beast to draw it away from her friend. Her attacks are joined by rifle fire and her heart sinks when she sees a number of villagers under Druig’s control shooting at the beast. She goes to volley another attack when Druig jumps over the deviant and shoots at it.
“Seriously?!” She shouts as she drops down to block the creature's tail as it swipes at the humans. Her wings took the brunt of the blow. She hopes that Druig is paying enough attention so that she doesn’t end up with a bullet in her back while trying to defend his people. She doesn’t even have enough time between blows to get a hit in. She focuses everything she has on staying ahead of the deviant's tail. She was starting to think that splitting her powers may have actually been a mistake when she feels herself losing her footing. Unable to get into the air was limiting what she could do. She tries to summon a blade but the deviant shifts faster than she can, wraps its tail around her leg and slams her into the dirt, before she can get her wings back up to protect herself, the jaws of the beast latch onto her side. Ripping a scream from her as it does.
The only reason it doesn’t kill her is that Sersi traps it in a metallic tree and Druig pulls her out from the shocked creature’s gaping maw. She pushes him away. She doesn’t have the energy to tell him how stupid he was being. She left Sersi to talk sense into him. Y/N took to the sky to get a better chance for an attack. The pain in her side was unbelievable, but she focused on attacking as the deviant broke free from its improvised cage. She’d never been so glad to see Ikaris in her life when he shows up to take on the deviant now heading for Druig. He took the beast out swiftly with his eye beams, before going after another. She tried to give him aerial support, but it was becoming harder and harder to build up enough energy for an attack. She feels water hit her as Sersi battles a deviant by hand. Y/N is just as shocked as the rest of the group when Sersi transforms the deviant into a tree.
Y/N begins to feel her wings fade and flicker, and her vision grows fuzzy around the edges. She knows she won’t last much longer. Her heart is beating too fast and the bite on her side has already soaked her shirt and jacket in blood. She knew her phone was probably smashed in her pocket. There went her chance at telling Steven and Marc goodbye. She tries to lower herself gently to the ground but her knees buckle and she falls. She hears shouting and feels hands on her. They move her and she stares at the tops of the trees. She wishes she could see more of the sky. She loves the sky. She loves flying. It felt natural. She wishes she could see the moon, one last time. To know that maybe, just maybe she'd get to say goodbye. She tried, but all that came out was a choked sob. She wanted to tell them all that she would see them in the next life. It wasn't until hands gripped her face and brushed back her tears that she focused on the figures now blocking small bits of the canopy.
She tried to reach for them and her blood-soaked hand was pulled into Sersi's own. She shook her head at Druig as he tried to help her. Her other hand gestures for them to come closer. They do. She summons up as much energy as she can. "Save them for me."
"We will," Sersi says.
She leans her head up with the last strength she has and bumps Druig's forehead earning a sad laugh. Her head drops back down but he returns the gesture.
"You've got nothing to worry about now," he says. Her strength is gone, she closes her eyes and knows it's over. A fleeting thought of goodbye and then darkness.
Druig was on his feet as soon as he knew she was gone. He looked at the destruction around them and the blood on his hands. Sersi squeezes the limp hand in hers before she stands up. She needs to think. She has to call Steven. Sersi feels another piece of her heart shatter. But before she can do anything she's called because Y/N isn't the only loss. Gilgamesh had fallen defending Thena. And Thena was inconsolable.
Egyptian Underworld
Osiris hears shouting. He approaches the scales as the chains of the plate holding the feather break. He picks up the feather and it feels wrong. Very wrong. Too much like a normal feather and the ethereal glow dims slightly. That was not good. He gently sets it aside. "Time to intervene," he says and gestures for Anubis to follow him as he opens the gates and they pass through. Summoning their avatars he opens the path to Y/N. "Oh little feather, what did you do." He nods at Anubis who has his avatar carefully lift Y/N and they return to the temple. "Fix her up as best you can. Her master may have forsaken her, but we shall not. Teach those Celestials that they have no more power over death than we do."
Osiris was quick to retrieve the feather of truth, encouraged by the slight glow that it still held. It was her, she had told him. Now he would use it to put things back the way they should be. A devoted goddess like Ma'at deserved at least that. If she was too far gone and beyond his reach, he would have Anubis do what he was best at, what he was worshipped for. But Osiris felt it would work. They would not be saying goodbye to Earth. It was not their time yet.
Ruins of Druig's Commune
"Where is she?" Kingo asks as he goes to retrieve Y/N to place her alongside Gilgamesh.
"What?" Druig pushes past him to find Y/N's body gone.
"You're sure she was dead?" Ikaris asks and earns a vicious glare from Druig.
"Yes," Druig spat.
"Maybe an animal-"
"Don't-" Druig warns.
"Druig," Kingo starts.
"Then we have to find her," Sersi says.
Sprite and Thena stay with Gilgamesh while the others search and find nothing. No signs of tracks, no trace. Nothing. They eventually decide that they had to give Gilgamesh a proper send-off. And Sersi still had something she needed to do.
Once Sersi was able to clean her hands she found her phone and found Steven's number. She calls it. They don't answer, though she wasn’t surprised. They probably thought Y/N had borrowed her phone to call. So she left them a message she knew would destroy them if and when they do get it.
"Steven, or Marc, it's Sersi, I…I hate having to do this in a voicemail. I would rather do this in person, or even in a real phone call, I…if we had more time I would do this in person, but we lost Y/N. Part of me hopes Khonshu knows, she always found it annoying when he boasted about knowing all that happened under the moon." Sersi let out a shaky laugh. "She…well, she fought to the end. She loved humanity, she loved you all. She loved you, both of you. She would want you to know."
Sersi hung up and just hoped the message got through. But she would find a way to reach them, to save them, and all of humanity. Druig was onboard now. They would end this for all of them. Their deaths would mean something.
Temple of the Gods
The first thing that registers to Y/N's mind is the cold. She feels cold, the cold stone beneath her makes her shiver.
"Welcome back, Ma'at," the voice of Isis' avatar says. "The goddess will be glad you pulled through." Y/N goes to speak but is hushed. She hears footsteps approaching followed by a whispered conversation she cannot process. Y/N finally opens her eyes but puts up no fight as she is lifted. The avatar of Anubis sets her back down but this time on a soft blanket that the goddess' avatar gently wraps around her. "You have been through quite the journey, and you need rest. Sleep now."
The next time she wakes Osiris is there, his avatar looms above her as he updates her on what has happened. Her family had lost another soul. Gilgamesh had fought and earned a warrior's death and were it up to Osiris he would be rewarded in his afterlife. Sadly, Gilgamesh, like Ajak, was beyond his reach.
"But your feather saved you," he told her. "Your commitment to serving humanity in this life and the next is what brought you back. Your strength will hopefully return with time, but your heart beats again, and when the time comes you will show the Celestials that we gods are not to be underestimated. He sat the feather gently beside her, the faint glow although weaker than before still shown. "You have earned more time, feather. I know you will use it wisely."
She wakes again in a bed with soft light shining through the open window. "You are safe," the voice of Osiris' avatar spoke. "You will find everything you need in this room. Bathroom, if you feel like you have the strength is through there." He gestures to an open door. "You are safe here. Osiris will summon you when the time comes."
"I need to call my family, to call-"
"If you wish to help them you will not waste your energy," another voice spoke. She recognized the avatar for Horus. "You wish to join your friends again to fix things, do you not?"
"I do," she admits.
"Then do not waste your energy or tax your healing system with concerns that won't matter. You do not yet know if you can join them or if they will succeed. Why make them suffer your death twice?"
"And Khonshu has not graced us with his presence, even Taweret is surprised, but no need to worry the old bird over things he cannot change. Heal first, then you can right your wrongs."
#To Cry for the Moon Fic#eternals!reader#moon knight eternals crossover fic#eternals x reader#egyptian gods x eternals!reader#marc spector x eternals!reader#marc spector x y/n#marc spector x female!reader#marc spector x reader#steven grant x y/n#steven grant x female!reader#steven grant x reader#khonshu x reader#tw: death#tw: violence#tw: fighting#tw: injury#tw: mental illness
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Gabriel's from bad things happen right? What's he like?
ohoho. im glad you asked
Gabriel is from BTH, yes. he's the opening POV character and there is something deeply wrong with him
they are 19, pronouns he/they, last name shaw, gender: transed, sexuality: yes, status: in a fucked up toxic little relationship with @lychniscitrus's oc Max Gray
they were kicked out of their home for being trans when they were 16. he has ptsd, bpd, major depression, and tourette's, and i will probably end up making him autistic on accident because i do that. he is always very very tired and it's unclear whether it's disabling or not (it will become disabling).
ex-evangelical. PETTY BITCH. gabriel hates everyone he doesn't love and is terrified of being alone. loyalty is everything to him, he will stay by your side until you're literally killing him and even then he may come back. the only person he will never go back to is his father. they never wanted to be part of any of this. they just want to go home. he doesn't know what home is anymore. he is a skater boy. he said see u later boy
im love him <3 i will introduce his wip. soon. soooon
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lil bio thing I guess
please read it ALL the way through before following, requesting, sending an ask, etc!! You can interact with my posts but most everything else I want to to know my limits, rules, and boundaries.
ART REQUEST INFO AT THE BOTTOM
name : preferred : atlas | I’m also fine with snowy, snow, and pebble
age : minor
pronouns : bigender, he/she. They is also okay.
sexuality: panromantic, asexual
favorite things : cats, bats, cheesy eggs and rice
fandoms : rain world, Kaiju paradise (fuck (some of)the devs tho), (kinda good omens? I like it but haven’t really watched it before >_<) warrior cats, wings of fire, OMORI, rain world, rain world, Celeste, rain world
DNI IF : you’re queer/homo/transphobic, a TERF, NSFW blog, are xenophobic, sexist, ableist, and if you don’t support Gaza during this genocide get the fuck out of my blog.
I might block for other reasons.
also, I take art requests now. Info under the cut.
☆ art request info (WIP)☆
you may request while this is a WIP but some things might be confusing.
➼ how do I request?
• my art requests are free. I don’t require money, and don’t do commissions.
• Send me an ask or mention me in a post with your desired character.
• (asks are preferred.)
• if it is a gift for somebody else please tell me.
• if you have a question, ask. I bite but you’re safe behind a screen.
➼ what are the rules for requests?
• NO NSFW AT ALL. You will be blocked if you ask.
• please remember I am a minor, any suggestive art requests will be ignored.
• no humans. Unless you want a stick figure.
• do not request anything with HOLES. I have mild trypophobia.
• If it’s an OC, send an image. You may also link to one.
• if it’s a fandom character, tell me the name and fandom, I will take care of the references.
• you can ask for ship art. Depends on the ship.
• don’t spam request.
➼ what I might do
• I AM MOST COMFORTABLE WITH : (in order)
rain world slugcats
Kaiju paradise characters/ocs
rain world iterators
warrior cats characters/ocs
• I am okay with :
furries/anthros
Anthro OCs
stick figures, things from object shows
Baldur’s gate 3 tavs (but it will look bad. And no Dragonborns.. I said it.)
• absolutely never :
NSFW
humans
spicy ship art
gore (because I’m bad at it. This is the ONE thing on this list you MITHT get away with if it’s subtle.)
worms
holes
Suggested sa/csa
• you may request a certain scene, multiple characters, etc, or just say a character and leave it be.
• if I deny your request, there are multiple possibilities.
I do not think the drawing would look good.
I tried multiple times and it looked bad.
I do not like you.
You broke one of the aforementioned rules.
I just don’t want to draw it.
you’re kinda fishy.
you spam request - I take two requests max per person per week, I have school.
I also don’t have to explain myself.
art examples coming soon.
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“The point of this conversation isn’t to sway your opinion on anything, especially not on whatever feelings you might have for Wilhelm.”
chapter 2 is up!!!
enjoy Erik teasing Wille, a fair bit of seriousness, and a shovel talk to end them all <3
#i was called a sneaky bastard by milo for a certain part after i explained it to them so im a smug little shit rn#anyways. <3. im going to sleep now.#please enjoy#young royals#young royals fanfic#prince wilhelm#yr wilhelm#yr erik#yr simon#simon eriksson#wilmon#wilhelm x simon#shh ac#wip: fuck he said a pronoun
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OC Introduction
I finally decided to make a reference sheet for my oc in my current wip To Be Free. (technically this is kind of an introduction to this fic as well lol)
*the very quick art is mine*
Name: Nali Bosac
Nicknames/Codenames: Red, GZFC45426 (slicer code)
Species: Zeltron
Time Period: First Order/Resistance Era
Birthplace: Zeltros
Age: 28
Gender/pronouns: female, she/her
Occupation: Slicer for the Resistance
Myers-Briggs’ Type: INTJ - The Mastermind
And because I have no self-control and I’m excited, here’s a little sneak peek of To Be Free 🫣
Nali sighed through her nose, sneaking a look at Mak over the top of her cards. His face was wrinkled in concentration, eyes trailing over his cards for the thousandth time as his free hand traced the shape of one of his dark horns. This was why she fucking hated playing sabacc with him.
“Maker above, Mak, I’m gonna keel over before you take your turn,” she groaned, flopping over the back of her chair.
“Hey, I don’t rush you, now do I?” he countered primly. Nali groaned again, reaching up to scrub at her face, pressing her cards against her forehead. Mak hummed quietly and she had the urge to kick him in the shin until the soft rumble of Ren’s voice caught her attention. Ren’s office was large enough that they could sit at the small table in the corner opposite his desk and struggle to hear his conversation if he wanted privacy. Ren’s soft greeting piqued her interest and she let her hands fall away. Even from her inverted view, there was no mistaking the blue-tinted holo of General Organa.
“Okay, go ahead,” Mak cut in, sounding pleased with himself.
“Shh,” Nali snapped, sitting up fast enough to make her head spin. She twisted around in her seat, pulling one leg up as she very obviously eavesdropped on the meeting taking place. The general’s back was to her but she’d become an expert on reading Ren’s lips over the years.
“Wonder what she wants?” Mak mumbled, leaning across the table and making it groan quietly under his weight.
“Poe told me Leia sent him to pick up someone interested in joining,” Nali explained, squinting at her adopted father figure. She definitely didn’t jump when clover green eyes darted in her direction. Mak hummed in acknowledgment, blatantly staring at the conversation taking place; the pair shared a look when the general’s head turned slightly. She looked…amused from what they could see of her face, however, when the feed cut off, Ren didn’t look very happy.
“You two are insufferable,” Ren grumbled, leaning back in his chair and untangling a knot in the fur under his chin. Nali tried to arrange her face into something resembling guilt but Ren knew it was a facade. “You know, there are certain things that you two may not be allowed to know.”
“‘Course,” Nali chirped, sliding off her chair and making her way across the room to perch on the corner of his desk. Mak followed close behind, dropping into the chair opposite Ren. “You just never tell us to leave.” Ren rolled his head in her direction, pinning her with an unimpressed look that only made her smile.
“What’s goin’ on?” Mak asked, folding his hands behind his head.
“General Organa asked me to keep an eye on someone,” Ren explained, rubbing at one of his bloodshot eyes. Nali wondered how long it had been since he’d actually slept in his bed.
“Why?” the Devaronian pressed, his forehead wrinkling.
“The new medic,” Nali realized out loud, looking to the old Bothan for confirmation. “Makes sense; we’re on base regularly. Well, at least Mak and I are so she wants us to show him around, right?”
“Him?” Mak hummed and Nali didn’t like the glint in his eyes when he turned his head in her direction. He grunted when the toe of her boot landed between two of his ribs, one large hand immediately coming down to cover the area.
“Kids, play nice,” Ren said absently, already preoccupied with something on his datapad.
“Wonder if he’s cute?” Mak mused, holding out a hand to protect himself when Nali pulled her leg back to kick him again. “Who told you about him?”
“Probably Dameron,” Ren cut in, side-eying Nali.
“You two are like catty Jawas,” she hissed, rolling her eyes. Ren shrugged but she didn’t miss the way his snout wrinkled with a half-smile; Mak on the other hand unabashedly shot her a toothy grin. She really hated them sometimes.
“Are you gonna greet them at the landing pad?” Mak teased. Nali immediately bristled, baring her teeth; she took a tiny bit of pleasure when the bulky Devaronian shifted in his seat. For some reason, she loved the big idiot too much to ever actually hurt him but knowing he was at least a little scared of her almost made her smile.
“Calmak,” Ren warned with a sigh.
“I’m just wondering!”
“No, you’re picking on her,” Ren huffed, pressing his knuckles into one of his eyes.
“That’s what brothers are for,” Mak chuckled, nudging Nali’s leg with the toe of his boot. She turned enough for him to see her eye roll but it only made his smile grow wider. Asshole.
“Well it’ll be a little while before Dameron’s back with our new mystery medic,” Ren informed, blowing out a harsh breath through his nose. He sucked in a clean breath and propelled himself to his feet; Nali and Mak bit back their smirks when he groaned, reaching for his lower back. “Get out of my office, fuckin’ laserbrains.”
“Old man,” Mak and Nali chorused, although they sounded far too fond for it to be an insult. Ren grumbled under his breath, playfully bumping into Nali as he moved past her and she leaned into him, forcing him to stop or let her tip off the edge. Ren huffed and puffed about dealing with the pair constantly but they knew deep down that the old Bothan cared more than he wanted to admit. Ren made a familiar growling sound, one Nali knew was meant to be affectionate, and she smiled to herself. Nali was pushed forward slightly by Mak’s extra weight when he leaned against Ren’s other side.
“Love ya, old man,” Mak sighed, resting his chin on the top of Ren’s furry head.
“Yeah, yeah, love you both too,” Ren grumbled but Nali could hear the warmth in his voice. She leaned heavily against him and let herself enjoy one of the few moments of peace in their hectic lives.
A/N: Even though he isn’t in the snippet above, this is a Kix/OFC fic that includes two of my other OCs Calmak (Mak) Jemman and Ren Fay’limi (Nali’s found family). This fic has been consuming my thoughts for so long and the fact that my writer’s block is in full swing is killing me 😭
#star wars oc#star wars ofc#oc:nali bosac#resistance era#sequel trilogy fic#post stasis kix#kix x oc#kix x ofc#oc:calmak jemman#oc:ren fay'limi#clone medic kix#star wars fanfiction
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Psst, what are your personal fun ghoul headcanons 👀 👀 👀 ???
Okay sorry this took a second because I was sleeping and then eating and stuff. But here we go!
So I said this in the other ask, but I headcanon Ghoul as agender, or just not giving a fuck about gender. Not 100% about pronouns yet so for right now I'm using he/him.
He wasn't born in the Zones, but was raised in them. In my WIP, his mother escaped Battery City when he was a toddler (maybe 3ish?). She lasted until he was about 9, but got ghosted by a Drac when out on a supply run.
After that, he got picked up by group who was willing to take care of him, but they eventually got ghosted too about a year or so later. And then it happened again, this time with a more popular gang. After that, he gained the reputation of a Raven, or someone who brings bad luck with them.
So at about age 13, he was fully on his own with most rebels staying a wide berth away from him. Also unfortunately has a lot of survivors guilt. (Sorry buddy, I had to make it tragic)
Anyways, getting out of backstory. He's the mechanic of the group, keeping the Trans Am running. He also build all the explosives and destructive items. He's not as good with small items and electronics like Kobra is, but they do work together to make weapons and gear occasionally.
Really good with animals, they just seem to trust him for some reason. Often found with a random lizard, snake, whatever is crawling around in his hands. Has been told multiple times that, no, you CANNOT bring the tarantula into the diner!
Despite being super combative and agressive with strangers, he's actually the most sentimental and "romantic" of the group. Also super physically affectionate when they're alone, leaning against Jet, having an arm around Party, whatever. Loves it.
Good forager, knows which of the rare Zone plants are good for eating and which aren't. Also knows everything about good zoneweed.
Since he spent the longest in the Zones out of the group, he's the most devoted to The Phoenix Witch (and whatever other Zone Deities there are, because I like to headcanon it's polytheist, but the focus is on The Witch). He's not as openly enthusiastic as, say, Party is, but says quiet prayers at night, before and after claps, whenever they see a Joy who got dusted, etc. Also does small devotional things every now and then.
#That's all I can think of for now#theres more brewing i promise#ik these are like... super common headcanons for the most part but they just seem fitting#danger days#the fabulous killjoys#fun ghoul
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5 fic recs for Friday
Pretty behind on reading but got some recs for you!! Happy Friday <3
Fruitful by dalula.
Length - 1500 words.
Pairing - Druella/Cygnus
Blurb - Super creative. Super rare pair. Really intense Druella characterization. Creepy/dirty/bad/hot/wrong. This fic is pretty ruthless. Loved it. From @hp-chan-fest. The collection on AO3.
Vibe quote
He doesn't even blink when she takes him to an empty bedroom and locks the door behind him. With siblings like Walburga and Alphard, Druella had expected him to have some kind of common sense, or at least a little curiosity, but no. He stands waiting for her, delightfully naïve.
Hiraeth by @theseismicshifts
Length - 2800 words
Pairing - Genfic. Regulus and Sirius.
Blurb - Omg. Regulus checking on his brother during Azkaban. It's horrible. Super tragic. Super loving. Heartbreaking. Must read. This is from Ghost Regulus Fest 2023.
Jumping up, Regulus stood between the hungry Dementor and what remained of his brother. With his feet planted firmly and hands gripped in knuckle whitening fists, he was determined to make a difference– this time.
Just Wednesday by @lumosatnight
Length - 2200 words
Pairing - Wednesday/Enid
Blurb - Ok! Super late to the Wednesday f/f fics but I picked the best fic to start with. Totally vibe with this. Really love how sensitive + bold the fic gets about gender vibes. Also Monday (fuck/fucker/fucks) is my gender on Mondays just in case anybody wanted to know :D
“Personal pronouns. I think they’re dumb. They shouldn’t matter.”
Eugene pokes his curly head around the hive. “I don’t think they’re dumb.” His brows pinch together. “And I think they do matter. It gives you something to feel connected to, something to say ‘This is for me. This is mine.’” He looks down sheepishly. “I mean, only if you want to. But lots of people want to. I know I want to. I know Enid wants to, too.”
Year of the Thestral by @perverse-idyll
Length - 22800 words WIP
Pairing - Hooch/McGonagall, Snape/McGonagall
TL;DR - You know what they say about making deals with the devil. This fic is pretty much that.
A fic I read at work. I mean I definitely shouldn't be reading at work but I saw the update and of course needed to read it immediately. Because this is my favorite WIP from perverse_idyll at the moment. Maybe it's kind of a Snarry betrayal to say that but I feel the Snape characterization here is the same level of intense as Rose and Fire which is something I haven't seen before in fic. YMMV!
Premise - the structure of the fic is really brilliant. We get to start with McGonagall post war but like really, really post war. Love the themes of growing older and how that makes you think about the past differently. Of course, for McGonagall the past doesn't get easier to think about. Because her past during that DH year is the worst. Really intense, really about a battle of ego/principles/desperation/hatred/everything. We get to see why that is. Definitely not good. I am a super Snape fan but I really want to cancel him in this fic. But McGonagall herself is super flawed/super human. I feel for her so much. Actually I feel for both of them but Snape is definitely A+ bastard.
Prose - Gosh, the prose. It's actually pretty different from the usual PI prose. The McGonagall voice is super sharp/super observant/super vivid. But not like in the descriptive sense we get to see in the author's other fics. This is an incredibly brutal POV which definitely goes more hammer compared to paintbrush. Idk if that makes sense.
Vibe quote
"One more thing before you go," he said, and Minerva braced herself, her gaze lifting to the portrait of Dumbledore asleep, head on one hand, spectacles sitting crooked on his crooked nose. "Do not ever," Severus enunciated, the hiss sharpening to a viper's threat, "come in here and presume to thank me for sparing your conscience. I will not tolerate being patted on the head as if I've performed a party trick. I'm not your pet, Minerva. My perceived lenience in this instance has nothing to do with you. Make that mistake again, and I will take my alleged 'fairness' out of Longbottom's hide."
"Over my dead body," she snapped, meeting coldness with coldness and feeling that melodramatic ripostes were the only possible response to such foul nonsense.
The Eumenides Triptych (Szozat, Eumenides, O Glaube) by eldritcher
Length - 12000 words, complete.
Pairing - Tom Riddle/Abraxas Malfoy.
TL;DR - Sometimes making deals with a God is just as bad as making deals with a devil. This fic is pretty much that.
Dark/delicious/intense. Mythical/haunting/lyrical/horrible. Super unhealthy. Also Love in Capital Letters. <3
Premise - There are three Gods in Tom Riddle's life. First of course is Albus Dumbledore. Second is Tom himself. Third is Abraxas who is Tom's love interest. Depending on the choices Albus Dumbledore and Abraxas make Tom either goes into madness + evil + destruction or has a traumatized life after going through a lot of loss/grief . Definitely no happy ending. But it's absolutely human either way.
Beats - Albus Dumbledore timetravels to adopts/raises Tom Riddle but Tom dies during the war with Grindelwald. Albus resurrects Tom with Sacrifice in Szozat. Of course Abraxas has got to deal with the fallout in Eumenides. It is horrible. But also beautiful. We get to see the conclusion in O Glaube.
The theme of choice - The Prometheus Triptych has some of the defining characterizations and character dynamics which influenced literally 99% of the fics in that pairing. It is about Abraxas enabling Tom Riddle because of their love. Eumenides goes in the opposite direction which is Abraxas fixing Tom Riddle because of love. A beautiful story about the two of the extremes love can lead to. Somebody said it's the difference between the Tragedy that condemns/The Tragedy that redeems. Pretty much this 100%.
Vibe Quote
Grindelwald had dragged the boy before us. His men had carven an eagle on his back, and cut his bones open from breast to loin, and pulled his organs out and fed them to the dogs. And what remained, it had been left to rot in the open fields of the no man's land on the front. There it would have lain, until the vermin and the rains and the earth picked it clean, but Albus Dumbledore had been a creature that had swept across time to raise the boy as his own, and he had eaten the flesh to inverted womb's song.
#fic recs#friday fic recs#multifandom#hp#wednesday netflix#wednesday x enid#hp het#rarepairs#snape x mcgonagall#regulus and sirius#tombrax#severus snape x minerva mcgonagall#tom riddle x abraxas malfoy#wednesday femslash#hp slash#hp rarepairs#tom riddle and albus dumbledore
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UkaSuga 👀
UkaSuga is a post-timeskip canon divergence fic focusing on Suga who had a big dumb teenage crush on his coach in high school but since that was obviously not happening he never said anything and went about his life. Then, as a twenty-three year old out of college he ends up working at an elementary school near Karasuno where he re-meets his high school crush and tries to remind himself that he's a grown-ass adult now.
The problem is, he's a grown-ass adult now, and Ukai has to wrestle with developing feelings for a man when he used to know him as a boy.
AKA this one's gonna be painfully slow and awkward, just the way I like them.
My favorite snippet so far is from a hungover Suga finding his bff, Bigender!Asahi in the kitceh:
"I fucking hate how you don't get hangovers," Koushi growled as he padded over to the counter.
"Ooh, someone's grumpy," Asahi said.
"Are your pronouns fuck/you today?" It earned him an eye-roll.
Send me a name from this list of WIPs and I'll tell you something about it and give you a snippet!
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