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#and sacrifice and the whole cat world and all of that
yuujispinkhair · 8 months
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Tribe leader/Viking Sukuna headcanons
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After seeing this fanart, a sweet anon sent me this prompt: "Imagine that you are a simple girl in another tribe who attracted the leader Sukuna who at that moment came to negotiate with the leader of your tribe, he became interested in you and decided to make you his wife and cooperate with your people. So you left with him and began to live with him and give birth to his heirs."
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Thank you so much for sending me this! When I saw the art, I was thinking of something along those lines, too! The picture reminded me of the tv show Vikings, so the following headcanons take place in that time.
Pairing: Viking!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: Smut + fluff Word Count: 2.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, arranged/forced marriage, virginity loss, blood, breeding, pregnancy, slight lactation kink, having children, miscarriage (Sukuna comforts reader afterwards. He doesn't just want her because of the heirs she can give him), general mentions of violence and human sacrifices. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.
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+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is feared for his ruthlessness in battle and his strength that seems almost god-like. All the other tribes try to stay on his good side and forge alliances with him instead of giving him a reason to burn down their towns.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who looks so intimidating when he comes to visit your settlement. Tall and broad-shouldered with all those buff muscles on display and the bones of his enemies decorating his clothes.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who you can't take your eyes off when you and the rest of your tribe gather in your leader's throne room and watch the negotiations. He sends shivers down your spine, but not just in a fear-inducing way, if you are honest. He is so enticing. Powerful and intelligent, and so attractive.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is such a beautiful man. His face is too pretty for a warrior. Not even his scars and tribal tattoos can hide his beauty. A smug smirk lifts the corners of his lips, and his voice is calm and confident. He moves gracefully like a big cat, beautiful but deadly. He is the most stunning man you have ever seen, and you hang on every word that falls from his lips as if he carries ancient magic in his voice.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose icy blue eyes scan the crowd slowly, glittering like two precious jewels in the firelight illuminating the crowded room. Your breath catches in your throat when that intense gaze lands on you. You feel like a small animal trapped in the gaze of its hunter. Should you lower your head to show him your respect? Or will he take affront if you dare to look at anything else but him?
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who takes the decision away from you when he smirks at you and laughs softly before he turns his attention back to your leader.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who announces his conditions for a peace treaty in a confident, demanding tone. The voice of a man who is used to getting what he wants. A man who knows he is too powerful to get turned down.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who suddenly points a long tattoed finger at you and speaks the words that will flip your whole world upside down, "And I want her."
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes your heart drop with his demand, but all you can do is stare at him in a mix of fear and excitement. A murmur runs through the crowd, and already, several hands are pressing against your back, shoving you towards Sukuna, making you stumble and screech as you are about to fall at his feet.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who catches you before you hit the ground, his muscular arms holding you easily, an amused smirk lighting up his handsome face, light blue eyes glittering in amusement as he drawls teasingly, "Aww, someone's eager to become my little wife, huh?"
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes you sit on his lap that evening when a big feast is held in his honor and to seal the peace treaty with your tribe. You barely dare breathe, full of fear as you sit on his strong, muscled thighs, gasping when one of his large hands wanders under your skirt to squeeze your thigh possessively.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who has two of his men stand guard in front of your door so no one will attack his future wife or maybe to prevent you from sneaking away. But you aren't even sure you want to run from him. Who are you here in your current tribe anyway? Just another orphan who grew up to help on one of the farms. Isn't this new role much more important? To be the bride of Ryomen Sukuna? To be a means that allows your tribe to prosper and ensures peace and trade with Sukuna?
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose large hand has a firm, unrelenting grip on your arm as he leads you to his horse the next morning. But he lets you say goodbye to all your loved ones, taking their blessings and well wishes with you before your future husband helps you onto his horse.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is such a rough man, but whose hands are surprisingly gentle when he lifts you onto the back of his giant horse. He sits behind you, his firm muscles pressing against your back, rippling with every move he makes. His muscular buff arms cage you in, keeping you captive or keeping you safe. You can't tell which one of the two it is.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes a conflict rage in your chest. On the one hand, you are scared of this dangerous big man who has the power to just demand to have you as if you are some cattle. On the other hand, you can't deny that small hidden part of you that feels excited that such a powerful and attractive man desires you enough to want to make you his wife.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes your pulse flutter nervously when you feel his strong arms around you and hear him order his men around with his low, velvety voice, telling them to find a good resting place for the night.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who kisses you roughly on that first night. His large hands that cup your face are calloused, but his lips are warm, and his tongue is soft and so skilled when he pries your mouth open and licks into it. It's nothing like the shy, clumsy kisses you shared with the boys in your settlement. Sukuna is a feared warrior, a powerful tribe leader, someone who people believe is actually the son of a god. And you can feel all that in his kiss. Deep and intense, making your head spin and your body brim with a desire you have never felt before.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who rides with you again the next day and trails teasing kisses down your neck to pass the time during the long ride. You are sure he is fully aware of what he is doing to you. How he makes your heart race and makes a mix of fear and arousal throb in your veins. Especially when he grabs your chin to tilt your face up and capture your lips in a heated, wet kiss, licking unashamedly into your mouth in front of his men, showing everyone that you are his.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who whispers in your ear, "Are you scared of me, my little wife?" and then breaks out in loud, barking laughter when you exhale shakily and tell him, "Only a fool wouldn't be scared of you... but maybe I am also flattered that you picked me, my lord."
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who still chuckles while his tongue licks a lazy stripe up the side of your neck, and he huskily tells you, "I am not a lord. I am a god. And I saw a goddess right there in that shabby throne room. I had to take you with me. It was a sign from the gods. You will give me such strong and beautiful children. Together, we can conquer the whole world."
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who forces himself to keep his hands off you before your wedding night as a show of respect to the gods, but who lets you feel his desire for you when he hugs you from behind and presses his hardness against you once you have moved into his house.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who has you dressed in the finest garments for your wedding day. A beautiful red dress lined with gorgeous white ermine fur that was specifically made for you. Your neck, wrists, and ears are decorated with glittering gold and precious gemstones.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes you squeal when he swoops you up into his muscular arms and carries you into the ceremony hall, accompanied by the loud cheers of his people. Your hand is shaking when you exchange wedding rings with him, but you stay brave, speaking your vows and taking Sukuna's heavy sword when he offers it to you as his promise to protect you.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who sacrifices several of his enemies to the gods to ask for their blessings for your marriage and your fertility. He looks scary with the pattern painted onto his face with fresh blood. But at the same time, it makes him look feral in a way that makes an unknown heat throb between your legs.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who shares his food and mead with you on the decadent feast held after the wedding ceremony, where you sit on the throne next to his. One of his strong arms stays wrapped around your waist the whole evening, and the deep glances he sends your way make your skin tingle with anticipation.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who takes your virginity that night, making you cry out in pain when his thick cock splits you open for the first time. But his lips silence your cry, and soon you make other noises. Loud moans of pleasure fall from your lips as your new husband moves inside you with deep and sure thrusts that hit a spot inside you that makes you scratch the broad muscles of his back and arch up against Sukuna's huge body. Your cunt throbs around his cock as you find the sweetest and most intense release you ever had.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who afterward pushes two of his long fingers into your used cunt to push his seed back into you, leaning down to kiss you savagely and murmuring in your ear that he wants to see your belly hard and swollen with his heirs.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who paints his clan symbols on your face with a mix of your virginal blood and his cum, telling you that you are his forever and that you are blessed by the gods now too after taking his seed into you.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is so proud when you show the first signs of pregnancy.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who becomes extremely protective and possessive now that you carry his heir. Who worships your body every night, cupping and kissing your swollen breasts, licking at the drops of milk that already spill from them, telling you it tastes like the nectar of the gods.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose large rough hands caress your swollen belly gently, who kisses it, and talks to your unborn child, telling his son, as he predicts, that he will be born under the blessing of the gods. That he will become a great leader and a god himself one day.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is triumphant when your first child is a boy with pink hair and a strong build and loud voice. A future leader just like his father. The first heir of many more to follow.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is feared by everyone but treats his wife and newborn child with a gentleness that surprises you. He asks you to let him hold your baby and carry him in his strong arms. And the way Sukuna looks at your child tells you that he doesn't just see little Yuuji as an heir but as someone who has Sukuna's heart.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose hungry and proud gaze follows you for days until he has you under him again, fucking you with hard, deep thrusts, moaning loudly, and pumping you full of his seed over and over again. "You gave me such a strong heir, my love. I know you'll give me so many more."
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who rushes to your side when you have a miscarriage during your second pregnancy. Who hugs you to his broad chest, wipes the sweat and blood off you, and cradles you in his arms.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who kisses your tears away and reassures you when you are scared he will kick you out if you won't give him more heirs.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who shakes his head and tells you, "I mourn our unborn child, but I thank the gods for not taking my beloved wife away from me too. You are more to me than just a vessel that gives birth to my heirs. You are my wife, my companion, the one who the gods sent to me as my soulmate. I love you. Even if we have no more children, I will never take a new wife."
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who you see in a new light after the reassurance and love he gave you on that day. And suddenly, you find yourself falling in love with your husband, too. You treat him more tenderly. You caress his soft hair when the two of you cuddle in your bed to keep each other warm. You kiss the tattoos on his face and smile at him, your heart fluttering when Sukuna smiles back at you and pulls you into a slow, tender kiss. You will never forget the happiness in his eyes when you tell him you love him too.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who fucks you thoroughly that night until the two of you are sweating and rolling around on top of the warm furs, kissing and caressing each other needily while he fills you with his hot seed until you are overflowing from it.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is delighted when you give birth to your second child, and that child looks like the perfect mix of the two of you. He grins at you and tells you that this is clearly a child of love, conceived on the night you confessed your love to him.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is actually a caring husband who truly treasures you. Who likes to spend his nights with you wrapped under the warm furs, making slow love while he kisses you deeply, rolling his hips with those slow, languid moves that make you sob his name and come undone so sweetly on his cock. 
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who likes to hold you in his strong arms afterward, with your head resting on his broad chest and your small fingers tracing the tattoos on his chest and abs. He loves to talk to you for hours every night, telling you all about his day, about his current worries and plans, about political things and battle tactics, trusting you with all his secrets.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose love fills you with warmth even on the coldest winter days. Your heart is held securely in his strong hands. And you know that no one will dare lay a hand on you or your children in fear of Sukuna's wrath. His strength and power make you feel safe here in your new home.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who teaches you how to enjoy sex to the fullest. Who teaches you how to ride his cock and his face. Who teaches you how to take from him too. Because he is your husband, and that means he belongs to you just as much as you belong to him.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who trusts you with ruling in his place during his absence. Who declares that anyone who disrespects you will get sacrificed to the gods.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who keeps you on his thick, strong cock all night before he has to leave for one of his various exploration trips or battles, savoring you to the fullest. Making sure to fuck you so good that you will still feel him for days after he set sail.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who pulls you into his arms one last time before he boards the ship, kissing you deep and long. And there is this burning love in his blue gaze when he tells you, "I will do anything in my power to come back to you, my love. I have the gods on my side. But if, for whatever reason, they should decide it is my time to enter Valhalla, then I want you to know that I will wait there until you join the afterlife, too, and I will come find you, no matter where you are."
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who luckily doesn't go to Valhalla and always comes back to you with more scars on his gorgeous body but with the same love in his eyes.
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AAAHHH I AM IN LOVE WITH HIM!!! This became much longer than I intended, but I really miss the show Vikings, and I love Viking!Sukuna to an insane amount, so it is what it is ;) This was, once again, very self-indulgent, but hopefully, some of my fellow Sukuna lovers will enjoy it too! Thank you so much to the nice anon who sent me that prompt!
Please let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.
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loveshotzz · 1 month
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I guess it’s never really over
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mechanic!steve harrington x fem!reader exes to lovers
chapter one -
Late arrivals and big asks
A broken down car, a party at Reefer Rick’s, and a bandaid that needs to be ripped off.
warnings: 18+ drinking, smoking, lots of tension, some king!steve angst in the form of a flashback.
wc: 10.1k
series masterlist | series playlist
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June - 
The air is sticky, thick with the kind of humidity only Indiana could have at 9:30 pm. An annoyed breath expands into your lungs as you lean against your car that refuses to do anything but sputter. Despite your irritation, your glossed lips twitch with the nostalgia that creeps into your heart because after all these years it still smells the same.
Crossing your arms, your eyes trail over the clear night sky not polluted with the kind of man-made smog that blankets the city and the stars shimmer like diamonds in its absence. The warmth of the overrun engine is still hot on your exposed calves, the light breeze making the bottom of your sundress dance across the tops of your thighs. White beams emerge, cutting through the dark at the top of the hill, followed by the roar only a tow truck can make, and this time, the smile you fought off before spreads wide across your face.
Robin.
Butterflies wake up in a frenzy deep in your gut, with nerves that twitch from your fingertips at the thought of finally getting to hug your best friend after months apart. You push off the side of your car as the truck approaches, eyes squinting to make out the second outline in the front cabin as it pulls over. You recognize the messy mane of hair that could only belong to Eddie Munson in the driver seat almost instantly and his dimple filled smile brings you back to memories you thought you’d long forgotten. 
“Well, well, well, would you look at what the cat dragged in!” Robin sticks her head out of the window with a wide grin as the big tires slow to a stop in front of your car, “are my eyes deceiving me or is my best friend in the entire world actually in Hawkins, Indiana right now?” 
The rasp in her voice sounds just like it does over the phone and despite the roll of your eyes, your cheeks hurt from how happy you are.
“Shut up, don’t act like you didn’t guilt me out here by saying the fate of your future depends on it.” Uncrossing your arms, you open them wide, “I made the ultimate sacrifice for you, so are you gonna hug me or not?”
Dramatic? Yes. But it works like a charm when she flings open the passenger door and charges at you in a mess of honey blond waves and freckles, almost tackling you with the force of her impact wrapping her arms around you.
Too distracted by Robin, you almost don’t notice the creak of the driver's side door or the filled out frame of the man that used to be a lanky teenage boy walking past as Eddie starts to attach your car to his truck. He’s taller than you remembered even bending down, and despite the navy blue coveralls, you can still see that his pale skin is littered with even more tattoos.
“I can’t believe my guilt trip worked!” Robin beams, finally letting you go, her whole body practically vibrating with excitement as she claps her ring clad hands together.
“I really can’t believe it either,” you laugh nervously, the reality of what it means to come back starting to set in after seeing just one familiar face, but this isn’t high school anymore and you’re definitely not the same person you were five years ago either.
“Thanks so much, Eddie,” you break the ice when he stands back up, and the sound of your voice has his big brown eyes warmed with gold light up just like his face when he turns his full attention onto you. Scruff filled dimples poking even bigger holes in his cheeks.
“It’s my pleasure, sweetheart, I almost didn’t believe Robin when she called me. I thought it was a prank.” He beckons you over with open arms, “now that I know it’s not, you have exactly 10 seconds to get over here and hug me before I change my mind.”
There’s zero hesitation about giving into his ‘demand’ and when your arms wrap around his waist, you’re brought back to afternoons in the woods behind the school with heavy lidded eyes and lopsided grins. 
“Your own auto shop, huh?” You smile up at him, pulling away, “Eddie Munson, the business owner.”
He rolls his eyes but the pink tint that colors in his cheeks tells you he appreciates the praise.
“Yeah, something like that.” He chuckles, “Got a soft spot for that old man in the trailer park, couldn’t bring myself to leave.”
Your heart warms at the fondness that drips from his ton. 
“Okay, as sweet as this little reunion is. You’re late, and we have a party to get to.” Robin interrupts snatching your keys out of your hand, dropping them in Eddie’s.
“A party?” You snap confused, and Eddie takes that as his queue to walk away with a knowing smirk.
“Yes, this is the summer of fun and reckless abandon, this is the last summer of our youth before we have to be adults. Do you understand me?” Her fingers are digging into your shoulders by the end of her rant, with the kind of look in her eyes that you’re absolutely going to have to revisit after a few weeks. 
“This is the part where I remind you that I graduated college last year.” 
Your best friend scoffs at you.
“Just humor me, okay? It’s your grand homecoming.” She pushes out her bottom lip, and makes her eyes big in a way she knows you can’t say no to.
“Fine.” You huff, making her finally let you go with the kind of pleased smirk that tells you she never thought she was going to lose to begin with.
“Great, it’s time to rip the bandaid off anyway.” Robin practically mumbles the last part turning on her heel to head back to the truck.
It takes a minute for her words to stick to your ears and their meaning to ring loud through your head, but when they do it feels like the air is stolen from your lungs. 
“Rip what bandaid off, Robin?!” 
It’s his name tightens in your chest but you refuse to say it, even after all this time it burns coming back up. 
“Since you had to drive for so long, I’ll sit in the middle because I’m just that good of a friend, you know?” She winks with a shit eating grin before pulling herself up and disappearing inside the cab of the truck, ignoring your question, like she’s not asking you to do the one thing you said you’d never do. 
See Steve Harrington again.
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I tell myself, ‘draw the line.’
You wonder if Robin can feel the daggers you’re glaring into the back of her head as the two of you walk up the driveway to Rick’s house. Gravel crunching hard under your converse as you keep up with her black combat boots. She looks effortlessly cool in her high waisted jean shorts, and her oversized army green jacket covered in patches. You’d compliment her if you weren’t so mad.
“I can’t believe you guys still have parties here.” You scoff, making your sour attitude known, but your best friend ignores it with ease.
“I can’t believe you forgot to have fun. Don’t you live in the city?” Turning around with a smirk, she can’t help but laugh at the look on your face. 
She stops abruptly, almost making you run into her leaving you both just close enough to the party to hear the bass of the music spilling through the cracks in the windows. The low chatter of people echoes through the trees that surround you and bounce off the lake not that far away. The thought of hearing the calm baritone of his voice mixed in makes your chest tight with the kind of nerves that dare you to high tail it and run.
“It’s been five years.” Robin’s playful demeanor breaks and becomes pleading with a kind of desperation you’ve never seen from her before. “He’s not the person you knew in high school, I need you to understand that. You think I’d call someone like that my best friend?”
“Hey!-“ You object at the title, and it makes her lips twitch despite serious lines that crease her face.
“Stop, you know what I mean,” her painted fingers grab onto yours, squeezing them lightly, “please, just give him a chance. I’m not asking you to get back together or even be friends, just get along enough not to kill each other this summer. I can’t choose between you. I won’t.”
The genuine love she has for Steve is apparent in the way her ocean blue eyes threaten to drown you in their sincerity, and you can’t find it in yourself to say no to her. 
“Fine.” You accept your defeat in practically a whisper, but it makes your best friend squeal nonetheless. The giddiness from before coming back tenfold as she links arms with you, continuing your way up to the house. 
It’s just a summer, right?
The crowd gets bigger as more people start to come into view, between groups smoking cigarettes outside, couples arguing by cars, others making out against them. The smell of beer gets more pungent with each step, the atmosphere a stark contrast to the way the moon glows against the peaceful waters behind the madness of the house. 
Salt N Pepa’s ‘Push It’ plays loud enough for you to make out the words when you reach the front steps, walking through clouds of tobacco smoke to get to the unlocked door. The interior hasn’t changed at all since high school, the smell of stale lime and tequila stinging your nose. The bass of the music vibrates under your shoes as Robin unlinks her arms and you have to fight the urge to yank her back.
“Drinks or …Steve first?” She asks, her nerves about the situation finally showing themselves as she bites at her thumbnail. 
“Absolutely drinks! Is that a trick question?” You half whisper, half yell, looking around as if saying his name out loud might summon him.
“Okay! Okay!” Robin hisses, grabbing your wrist, leading you towards the familiar path to Rick’s kitchen.
Suddenly you wonder what your makeup looks like after a long day of traveling in your car, your fingers tugging at the bottom of your dress before adjusting the front of it so it sits just right. You itch to grab your lip gloss that’s tucked into the side of your bra, but you don’t want to deal with the look you’d get if you went for it.
Rounding the corner to the living room, your heart sinks to the bottom of your stomach before you even have a chance to stop it when your eyes meet that messy head of chestnut hair, and a pair of hot pink nails tangled inside it. 
“Oh - I - god dammit.” Robin groans, when you're met with number two on your list, making out with a pretty blond on the couch.
Despite the years and distance, there’s still a sting that you feel in the corners of your eyes. It’s not enough for any tears to fall, there’s none left for him anymore, but it’s enough for the anger you’ve clung to since the day he broke your heart to boil hot under your skin. It singes the wings of the butterflies that try to take flight when you see the way his frame has filled out, how he’s somehow grown more handsome than the last time you saw him. 
Robin coughs, squeezing your wrist in reassurance.
“Hey, - uh, Steve.” The sound of his name catches his attention, long brown lashes fluttering open to reveal the deep coffee of his eyes that widen when they lock with yours for the first time in years. 
His lips pull from the blond’s with a loud smack, leaving a small trail of glitter on the side of his mouth that he tries to wipe away quickly with his wrist. Black ink you’ve never seen before looks bold on his tanned skin that glows like it’s been freshly kissed by the sun. 
His gaze wanders up and down your body like he’s unsure you’re actually real, and if it wasn’t for the obvious shock of your arrival and the way the color seems to drain from his face, you’d snap at him for the way it lingers over your curves. 
“Um, Robin, what the fuck?” The sound of his voice makes your heart skip a beat, and again when his hand drags through his hair just how you remembered.
“Surprise?” She shrugs, wincing when he scoffs loudly and the warmth that went missing floods his cheeks, turning them bright red. The blond next to him eyes you up while she clutches harder to his waist, and you can’t stop the rise of your brows and the giggle that bubbles past your lips because of it.
Steve’s head snaps towards you, something softening the moss that hides in his eyes when he hears the noise despite the sarcasm that drips from it, and you really get to look at him for the first time since high school graduation. 
God, you wish you could’ve had that drink. 
The jawline that always drove you mad is sharper, peppered with the kind of hardly there stubble that tells you he’s only missed one shaving day. A problem he never used to have, and somehow, it makes him all that much more attractive. 
His hair is a little messier than his carefully crafted look that used to take him a good forty five minutes every morning. It curls wildly at the ends now, tucking behind his ears and fanning along the nape of his freckled neck. It still looks as soft as you remember, though. 
His shoulders are broader, stretching the white cotton of his shirt tight enough across his chest that you can see the outline of a thick patch of hair that had only just started growing when you knew him last. The dark wash of his jeans makes them look almost black, fitting snug over his thighs, cuffed at the bottoms framing the tops of his boots.
Why couldn’t Steve Harrington just peak in high school like he was supposed to?
“So yeah, this is awkward.” Your best friend laughs nervously, “We’re going to get a drink or three because this scenario is by far the worst case and not the way this was supposed to go in my head, but anyway, look who’s here for the summer! We’ll talk later!“ 
Robin grabs your wrist before Steve can respond, pulling you back into the party and away from your ex-boyfriend while the realization of the summer you’ve foolishly agreed to hits you all at once. It turns your body weightless as the two of you weave in and out of the crowd. It tightens in your chest, the music turning muffled hitting your ear drums. Suddenly, you're not the woman who crossed state lines to the one place she said she’d never come back to, happily living the lie that you’d actually forgotten about him to be a good friend.
You’re the girl who let him keep you a secret, and you hate him for it.
Sneakers hit the sticky tile floor that hasn’t changed since 1984, the harsh lighting of the kitchen makes you both squint. It’s calmer than the rest of the house, just a few groups lingering off in the corners, too deep in conversation to care about you and Robin. Letting go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your ears start to pop too, Eddie Money’s Take Me Home Tonight coming through crystal clear.
“The band-aid might have been violently ripped off, but hey, it’s ripped off nonetheless.” Robin shrugs, finding the half-drunk bottle of tequila on the counter. “I think we should count this as a win and take a shot to celebrate.”
“A win?! Are you kidding me?!” You hiss, completely bewildered.
“Yes a win - oh no.” Her blue eyes go wide at whatever’s behind you, but it doesn’t take you long to figure out when that familiar spice and cedar of his cologne hits your nose.
“Right so, who’s going to let me know what’s going on?”
His voice comes out close enough to send your lashes fluttering, mimicking your heart. The nerves you’d just gotten over threaten to come back tenfold, but you manage to swallow them down just like in high school, turning around.
“I think it’s obvious what’s going on, Steve,”
It’s not as hard to say his name as you thought it would be, but it is hard to stare at his face from this close. Specifically, the two moles that dot his cheek that you always used to kiss, or the ones on his neck that you hate still taunt you for more. 
“I’m here for the summer.”
Steve Harrington had thought about this moment a lot, but Rick’s house was never the backdrop for it. His eyes take in the features you’ve not only grown into but somehow are even more beautiful than he remembers. Even if they’re twisted in a glare. 
“I meant, why didn’t I know until right now?” He manages to get out with a shake of his head narrowing his eyes at Robin, who’s too busy trying to find clean shot glasses to notice.
“Why would you need to know?” You snap, making a nervous hand card through his hair
“Cause I’ve, uh,  you know, I’ve asked about you a few times,” the last part comes out a little harsher, clearly directed at your best friend, who you know is actively ignoring you both now.
“Why? Why would you need to know anything about me?” Your hostility still shocks him even though he was expecting it. His eyebrows shoot up just like his hands in surrender. “Why didn’t you tell me, Robin?”
She groans loudly, slamming the tequila bottle down on the counter before turning around.
“You said you didn’t want to hear anything about him after you moved, why would I tell you he was asking about you?”
“Wait -“ Steve butts in this time, “seriously?”
“Oh my god, can you two shut the fuck up for a second and take these shots? You’re really putting a damper on the beginning of the best summer of our lives,” Robin snaps before waving a hand in front of three freshly poured shots.
It’s a struggle to tear your eyes from him, your body responding to his presence in a way that feels like it’s turning against you. It has you downing your shot in one quick motion before anyone else can even touch theirs. 
“Wow, okay.” Robin deadpans before shaking her head, wasting no time in following your lead.
“So we’re not cheersing anymore? Isn’t that bad luck?” Steve mutters, shoulder brushing against yours as he leans forward to grab his shot, the slightest touch enough to engulf your skin into flames.
A whole summer? Fuck.
“Robin, pour another one.” You rush with pinched brows as you try to move past the bitter sting of the alcohol going down your throat, taking a step toward her and away from him, you add “and we’ll cheers.”
You refuse to meet his gaze when you say it, but you can feel the intensity of it on the side of your face, begging you to break.
“Rob’s, how are you guys getting home?” Steve finally breaks, giving up his quiet fight for now, and you hate the way his nickname for her softens your heart.
“Huh, that’s a good question, I hadn’t thought that far yet.” She admits, over pouring so tequila splashes against the countertop, looking up at him with a mischievous grin.
“Seriously–
“RECKLESS ABANDON STEVEY!” Cutting him off, she downs her shot in his disapproving face.
“You didn’t cheers again.” Steve sighs, hands finding his hips as you whine an irritated, “We needed to cheers!” At the same time.
Your eyes meet his finally, his knowing smirk twisting the corners of your lips despite yourself. You blame the tequila starting to warm the blood in your veins.
“Well, you need to take yours then if we’re doing another one ‘the proper’ way, or it’s not going to be even.” Robin points at your drink in a silent challenge. 
You know how this game works.
“Fine.” You shrug, downing it with more ease than the last one.
“Oh my god. Stop! Do not pour another one before you answer my question, please!” Steve sounds exasperated, grabbing the bottle from her before she can disobey, “How are you getting home?” 
You try not to focus on how much larger his already big hands are now, or how small the bottle looks wrapped up in his palm compared to your best friends. The second shot takes the edge off your nerves in a way that your shoulders relax. Leaning against the counter, you cross your arms, watching the two of them bicker, catching Steve’s wandering gaze on your exposed legs while he tries his best to keep his focus on Robin. It boosts your ego in a way that has the anger hiding just under the surface go from a boil to a slow simmer.
“I don’t know Harrington, do you know anybody with a car?” She wiggles two thick brows at him, the second shot making her blue eyes glassy, and her smile a little more goofy.
“Why’d I know you were going to say that? And why did I know you were going to do this?” Steve sighs, letting her snatch the bottle out of his hand.
“What? Bring her to the party?” Robin snorts pointing a thumb in your direction, making you gasp.
“Robin!”
“No! What? No. But don’t think,” Steve clears his throat looking at you awkwardly before finishing a little quieter, “don’t think we’re not going to talk about this later.”
“I can still hear you.” You remind him with a sarcastic smirk.
“Yeah, I know you can. Look, I’ll DD for you because obviously tonight is, uhh,” he gestures to you with cheeks that grow pinker by the second, “a big deal. But you gotta stop doing this to me, I need you to get your license you’re out of colleg-”
“Shots! Steve’s driving us home!” Robin whoops loudly, and an irritated Steve pinches the bridge of his nose before walking away. 
Your eyes follow him out the door, shoulder blades flexing under cotton when he runs another hand through his hair before disappearing from sight. You try to push down the small pang of jealousy that makes a familiar home inside your chest remembering the blond girl waiting for him on the couch.
“Okay, okay,” Robin interrupts your inner struggle at the perfect time, sliding an overflowing shot over to you with a giggle that's contagious and it banishes Steve from your mind just like magic. “I’m not going to forget this time, promise.”
“I don’t think I can afford for you to forget again,” you smirk, raising your glass, tequila spilling over the tops of your fingers, “cheers!”
“Cheers!” 
You both down them at the same speed, slamming the empty glasses back onto the countertop with laughter that bounces off the walls and threatens to drown out the music. And for a second you think maybe you can actually do this.
“I’m so happy you’re here!” She squeals, throwing her arms around your neck, doing a terrible job of holding her weight up. Grabbing onto her waist, you do your best to steady her, “Look I just want to say while he’s gone, I know this isn’t easy for you, okay? I know.”
She hiccups before pulling away slightly to look at you as she finishes,“But It means so much to me, and I just wanna say I’m proud of you. I mean, who knows, you’ve changed, he’s changed-”
“Nope, no, you’re done. Where’s the weed? I wanna smoke some weed.” You push Robin away, rolling your eyes at the loud laugh your reaction gets from her.
There’s a long summer ahead of you, but right now, all you need is to find a joint and try not to think about your ex in the next room.
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With a few more shots and a couple of hits from a blunt you and Robin you’d stumbled upon being passed amongst a group outside, you start to really feel like you’re back home. Nostalgia hits you hard in the gut as you walk through the crowded living room hand in hand with your best friend, giggling and stumbling back to the kitchen on the hunt for some food. 
“God, I’m so hungry!” Robin practically growls when you hit the harsh lighting again making you both hiss.
An empty bottle of tequila sits on the counter now and red solo cups litter the floor that weren’t there before, and a growing pile of bitten into limes cover the counters in a sticky mess. Alone and left to your own devices Robin begins to raid the cupboards, huffing when she finds nothing behind every door she aggressively yanks open.
“Why is his kitchen always so empty? Like? Do we just always miss the party?” You hiccup, tripping on a tile that’s coming out of the grout. 
You catch yourself on the kitchen island in front of you, a loud laugh bubbling up from your chest, too drunk to focus on how gross the formica feels under your fingertips.
“There’s literally nothing to eat in here, not even like an old bag of stale chips.” She opens the first cabinet one last time before slamming it shut, officially giving up with a thump of her forehead against the wood. “This is why he’s always at the diner.”
“Wait, Rick actually lives here still?” Another hiccup, you foolishly lean your elbows on the counter, something you���ll regret in the morning as you stare at your best friend with a toothy smile, completely unaffected by the news about the missing food that seems to be ruining her entire mood.
“How can he sell weed and not have any food in his house? What happens when he gets the munchies?!” She throws her hands up, ignoring your question and answering it all at the same time. “I’m gonna find a bathroom, and then we’re gonna find Steve - don’t make that face, he’ll take us through a drive-thru.”
“Don’t be gone long, I don’t know anyone here!” You whine with a childish drunk stomp of your foot, still sporting that sour look she told you to wipe off. The carefree girl from moments before now gone in the blink of an eye.
“Literally like five minutes, I swear!” She promises, turning around with a smirk as she crosses her heart with a ring covered finger like you used to do as kids, easily earning the smile from you she was hoping for.
You watch her disappear into the party, staring after bouncing honey waves until they’re out of your sight. 
Suddenly alone for the first time in hours, the kitchen feels quiet. The bass of the music is distant, and your thoughts are heavy just like your feet as your last shot of tequila settles with the rest. Your brain wanders to places that you thought you’d banished from the corners of your mind for years. It takes you to the pink fullness of his lips, and has you biting the bottom of yours. Then it’s the freckles that dot the bridge of his nose and explode across his cheeks, even leaving their mark on the bottom of his earlobe.
You’d found that one the night you’d tried to count them all. You never finished.
Then you remember the blond on the couch, and how her pink nails dug into the thick chestnut of his hair that you used to tug on when his kisses got to be too much. She turns into Nancy Wheeler and those stolen looks in the hallways at school, and suddenly, you hate him all over again.
“Jesus, you’re in here alone? Where’s Robin?” Steve’s voice makes you jump at the worst possible time, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scar-“
“Seriously?!” You snap, turning around with crossed arms. Leaning against the counter, you hope that you don’t seem as drunk as you are, but the way his lips twitch regardless of your attitude tells you that it’s not working. “She went to the bathroom and then was going to look for you.”
“So, it just makes sense for me to hang out here then, right?”Steve raises his hands in a silent plea for permission. 
His big boots take heavy steps towards you, and just like on cue, has your body betraying you. The plush dough of your thighs pressing harder together each time he gets closer to closing the gap. 
Cautiously taking the spot a few feet away from you, he keeps his hands up till he feels safe enough to shove them in his pockets. The spice of his cologne smells fresh, and you wonder if he sprayed it before walking in here. It overpowers everything else around you, invading your senses and committing itself to memory despite you.
“I um, I really hope this is okay to say,” he stammers watching the way one of your eyebrows arches up, and it doesn’t take long for his hand to escape from his pocket to run through his hair again, “but it’s, it’s good to see you. I m-missed you, Robin’s missed you.”
“Shouldn’t you be hanging out with your girlfriend?” You ignore him and tuck his words away to unpack another time with a sober mind.
“Cassie? She’s not my girlfriend.” He answers without any hesitation, something sparking alive inside the gold of his eyes that has one side of his mouth tugging up. 
“Does she know that?” 
“I’m pretty sure she does considering she left with another guy not that long ago.” He snorts, the confidence you’ve always known him to have finding its way back, and you don’t miss the way he scoots closer. 
So you scoot back.
“Sucks to suck, Harrington.” You sigh, impressed with how well you’re playing off the victory lap you’re shamefully running in your head at the new information.
“There you are!” Robin rushes in, face flushed and out of breath, interrupting the moment you weren’t ready to have yet at the perfect time “Somehow I got roped into like a keg stand and I think it’s really time for us to go home guys.”
“Robin!” 
“What?!”
She tries to shush you, but even you can see from across the room the way sweat starts to bead across her forehead, the blush in her cheeks going pale before she runs to the trash can. Steve pushes off the island without any hesitation, rushing to the other side of the kitchen, gathering her hair in his hands to hold it back.
“What were you thinking?” Steve scolds her in the softest way possible, rubbing her back as all the beer finds its way out of her body.  
Those big eyes of his that you’re sure are going to haunt your dreams meet yours, and in that moment the room decides it wants to spin. You’re not sure if it’s the night of tequila with nothing but a weed chaser catching up to you or if it’s the onslaught of feelings you’ve successfully suppressed for the last five years coming back to seek their revenge. The deadly combination of both comes to a head the more you watch the gentle way Steve handles Robin and it makes you realize it’s time to go.
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You manage to pull yourself together enough to help Steve get Robin in his car, heart almost stopping when you walk up to the same Maroon BMW he took your virginity in. It takes everything inside of you not to abort the mission, run to Robin’s apartment by figuring your way through the woods you used to play in, do anything but sit in those leather seats. But your best friend’s drunk rambles of how happy she is to have her ‘two amigos and how that it makes three now’ while professing her undying love for both of you has you putting on a brave face, and then your big girl pants when you have to sit in the front seat next to him.
It’s in perfect condition, just like the morning he pulled into the parking lot Junior year with it. Your stomach twists in the kind of knots that have you wrapping your arms around your waist. The smell of leather and pine pulling on the back of your throat, and all the memories that come with it. He keeps the radio low, and you can hardly make out the faint sounds of whatever late night talk show was on over the soft snores of a passed out Robin in the backseat. 
“I thought you’d have a different car by now.” You grumble sinking further into your seat, keeping your eyes trained on the trees that zoom past your window.
“You’ll have to pry her from my cold, dead hands, honey.” Steve chuckles, relaxing a little more into his own, a big hand finding a new resting spot on the stick shift.
The endearment sends you reeling, the tequila making it hard to bite your tongue.
“Don’t call me that.” Quickly realizing that staring out the window does nothing to help your already dicey equilibrium, you decide to finally look at him, but you’re not sure if that’s any better.
‘What? Honey?” He asks, fully knowing the answer but egging you on just the same with a ghost of a smirk on his lips.
Narrowing your eyes, you turn fully in your seat doing your best to ignore the way the street lights bounce off his sharp features as you face him.
“What? So you just make out with girls that you’re not dating and get away with it?” 
Steve snorts, licking his lips and meeting your angry gaze with an amused one. 
“I am twenty-four and single.”
Scoffing at his answer, you pause to collect your words that keep getting tangled on the tip of your tongue from too many drinks and how the whites of his teeth start to show in a grin as he glances in the rearview mirror to check on Robin.
“You think you can do whatever you want don’t you?”
“No -“
“What? Because you didn’t peak in high school like you were supposed to, you somehow just got hotter, you think the rules don’t apply to you or something?”
“Good to know you still think I’m hot.” Steve’s face cracks into a smile, turning into an apartment complex you’re assuming is Robin’s. 
“You’re the worst,” you try to deflect weakly, turning back in your seat with a huff.
“I definitely used to be,” he mumbles mostly to himself, putting the car in park, both of you jerking forward slightly. The sudden lack of movement makes Robin groan in the back, lashes fluttering open to look at her surroundings.
“Oh, thank god, I think I’m gonna be sick again.” Her throat sounds hoarse when she finally speaks, but it’s all she can manage before a dry heave has the boy next to you scrambling.
“Not in my car! Not in my car!” Steve’s quick to jump out of the driver's seat rushing to get your best friend out of the back, leaving you alone to fight with your seatbelt. 
Frustrated, you blow a breath out from between your pressed lips tugging on the smooth material while your thumb smashes the release button. It doesn’t budge and the cedar starts to pick at your nerves. An angry noise squeaks from the back of your throat catching Steve’s attention who finally gets Robin on her feet. The spice of his cologne swallows you whole when he emerges back into the car. Leaning over the console he’s gentle when he pushes your hand away. You don’t protest his help this time, eyes tracing the gold chain that slips out from under his shirt. It shimmers everytime it swings from his neck when it hits the moonlight, clicking the button with ease, releasing you from your self imposed trap.
“Thanks,” you grumble, using a wobbling arm to open your door, clambering out less gracefully than you intended.
“Are you good to follow me? I don’t think Robin’s gonna make it up the steps on her own.” Closing the car door, he leans over the top of it, his eyes watching the way you maneuver around his car like you’re walking on thin ice.
“I’m fine,” you growl, right as you lose your footing catching yourself with an open palm on the hood of his trunk.
“Seriously, I can help I just have to take you both one at a -“
“Steve, I said I’m fine. I don’t need anything from you.” You interrupt and if you weren’t so focused on putting one foot in front of the other, you’d see the way the harshness of your words make him wince.
He stares at you for a minute longer before muttering a quiet ‘whatever’ scooping Robin up and tucking her into his side. You follow them at your own pace up the cement steps to the second floor, thankful that her apartment isn’t too far from the landing when you get to the top. Your legs start to feel like Jell-O waiting for him to unlock the door, the long drive from New York and the night finally catching up to you in a way that makes your eyelids heavy as Steve pushes open her front door. 
“Bathroom! Bathroom!” Robin manages to get out when she and Steve cross the threshold first, a string of cuss words spilling out of his mouth as he tries to hurry her to the place she was begging to be taken to.
You use the full force of your weight with your back to the door, closing behind you with a loud slam. The navy blue couch in the middle of her living room begging you to sit down, an invitation your clumsy steps accept, leading you to the fluffy cushions. Collapsing onto them with a satisfied hum, you sink into the foam, lashes fluttering and eyelids getting heavier with each second that passes, and soon you find yourself giving in with a warm cheek pressed into the arm rest.
You don’t know how much time has passed when the feeling of your laces being tugged loose stirs you awake. Trying to focus with vision still blurry from sleep, Steve’s messy head of hair comes clear into your line of sight. Long fingers pull the white strings from the metal eyelets of your converse, a warm palm wrapping around your ankle that sends a shiver up your spine as he slowly wiggles your sneaker off your foot. The white tube socks that cover your feet make him smile with a thumb that dares to rub a small circle on your skin before dropping it to work on the other.
“Steve,” you manage to get out, voice still thick with sleep.
“I’m just tucking you in, that’s all hon- and then I’ll get out of your hair.” He clears his throat after the nickname that set you off earlier burns like acid dying on his tongue.
You grumble something unintelligible, rubbing the mascara off your eyes as he pulls your other shoe off the pad of his thumb doing the same thing to your other ankle making your toes curl. Both his hands find their way to your calves squeezing softly at the muscles before he starts to lift them up.
“Come on, let's get you laying on your side.” He coos, helping you adjust so you’re finally horizontal. You groan a little, reaching out for him on instinct, the softness of his touch making a very drunk you crave more. 
“I’d love to cuddle but I think you’d actually kill me in the morning,” he laughs to himself knowing you won’t remember any of this when you wake up.
You make some more noises that he can’t figure out if they're supposed to be words or not as he drapes Robin’s thick throw blanket over you. Grabbing the material in your fists when you feel it, you pull it even closer, a low satisfied hum spilling from between your lips that still sparkle with leftover glitter from your gloss. He watches the way you curl into yourself, fingers twitching at his side to run his knuckles over your cheek.
“Steve,” his name comes out clear as day, kicking up his heart rate.
“Yeah?” He squats down next to your face, the warmth of your breath hitting his face while your eyebrows furrow in your sleepy state trying to get whatever you want to say out.
“You really broke my heart, you know that?”
Your words punch the air out of his lungs, just like your unexpected arrival. Something he’s fantasized about happening more times than he’d like to admit.
“Yeah, I know.” He sighs defeated, giving into his urges for comfort with knuckles that brush against the warmth of your skin, a familiar burn stings his eyes when you subconsciously lean into it. 
You don’t say anything else to him, the furrow of your brows smoothing out as your face finally starts to relax under his touch. He watches the way your shoulders move with each deep breath that pulls you further into sleep and away from him. 
He takes a selfish minute to stare at you uninterrupted, tracing your cheekbone one last time before he stands up to leave, he knows he won’t get any sleep, and the words you won’t remember saying are already haunting him like a bad dream.
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“Do you really wanna love me like you say you do? Give it to me like you say you do? Cause it’s hard enough you gotta treat me like this, lonely enough to let you treat me like this. Do you really love me?”
Steve was late, glancing down at pink the digital watch on your wrist, fifteen minutes late. Five lockers down from his, you wait for him at what’s been your meeting spot for the last eight months. Far away enough from his locker that no one would suspect you waiting for the King of Hawkins himself, but close enough to the janitor's closet for him to steal you away from sight without anyone noticing for the forty-five minutes of study hall. 
Hushed argumentative whispers catch your attention, nerves making your feet move from side to side unsure if you should abandon ship and just go and study for the final in your last period. Nancy Wheeler's eyes meet yours as she rounds the corner with her best friend Barb, the corners of her lips pulling up ever so slightly giving you a small wave which you return as she tries to ignore her friend.
“He’s just trying to get in your pants! Come on, you have to be smart enough to know that.” Barb points at the note Nancy is clutching in her hand so hard that the whites of her knuckles show.
“It’s not like that, I’m just tutoring him.” She argues but the blush that creeps across her cheeks and spreads down her neck gives her away.
I’m just tutoring him.
That simple sentence is enough for your world to tip off its axis, chest tightening at the realization of who they're arguing about. All the canceled plans the past few weeks with the excuse of extra tutoring starts to feel like a knife to the gut. Prince Charming rounds the corner holding and twists the handle with a bright flirtatious smile that used to be just for you, only now it’s flashed at the dainty brunette who melts under it because no one is immune to Steve Harrington. 
It takes him a minute to see you, too wrapped up in Nancy who’s back is pressed to the lockers, caged in by Steve’s big hand splayed against the metal by her head. They’re too far to hear what he’s saying to her, but the confident way his teeth flash and the sweet giggle he earns from it tells you everything you need to know. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing them fall. Fists clenched at your sides, the blunt ends of your nails dig into your palms as you hold in the sob that threatens to give you away as you walk past them, meeting his guilty eyes before you round the corner.  
The pounding in your head wakes you up before the sun that leaks through Robin’s small kitchen window. Your hangover rings in your ears with a vengeance, and has you letting out a pained groan. Everything after the joint you shared outside at the party is nothing but a blur, a scattered puzzle with pieces missing as you try and figure out how you ended up back home and tucked into the couch. 
“Are you alive out there?” Robin’s voice calls out weakly from down the hall in her room. 
“Barely,” you grumble, agitation kicking in from dehydration and the old wounds your dream decided to rip open.
“I’d say I’m never drinking again but we both know that’s a lie,” she says, muffled by what sounds like a pillow.
A giggle tries to escape, but it only makes you wince, clutching your forehead willing the pain to subside.
“How’d we even get home?” You croak, rubbing harshly at your eyes before attempting to sit up, covering them with a cupped palm as your surroundings get brighter.
“Steve,” Robin’s voice comes out right next to you, surprising you by appearing in the entryway. 
Hearing his name out loud sends the kind of rage that scorches through your veins, it burns from your fingertips remembering the look on his face when you broke up a few weeks after that day in the hallway your dreams so sweetly reminded you of. 
It was Pity.
Your best friend ignores your silence and the sour look on your face as you silently take a trip down memory lane while she shuffles into the living room wandering to the attached kitchen. 
“How far is Eddie’s shop from here?” You grimace watching her chug from a carton of orange juice.
“Oh, super close. You can walk from here.” She answers, wiping her upper lip with the back of your hand, “they opened like two hours ago, I’m sure he’s already looked at your car.”
“I think I’m going to shower and go over, do you want to come with me?” Raising your hands above your head, you stretch your sore muscles as a yawn comes out in the middle of your question.
“I think I need to rot in bed for a little while longer before I go walk amongst the living, I promise I’m all yours after I don’t feel like a freaking crypt keeper.” Your yawn is contagious, giving you a view of all her perfectly straight teeth.
“I demand something greasy for lunch when I get back then.” You point at her finding your footing on the carpet, noticing your converse are tucked nice and neat against the couch next to you. The feeling of Steve’s knuckles is a ghost against your skin, details starting to come out clear from the murky waters. 
Heat rushes to your cheek at the memory while your emotions start to go at war with each other over what to feel towards the man who tucked you and your best friend in last night, but also broke your heart in a way you don’t think you’ll ever quite forget. 
“I’m on it boss, god, I wish Benny’s was still open.” Robin interrupts the inner struggle she’s oblivious to you having as she walks past you flinging herself on the couch you’d just won the battle of leaving “But I’ll think of something good, I promise.”
Just like your yawn, the smile she gives you is contagious despite the sharp pain you get in your head from moving too much and you both laugh wincing when it only gets worse. 
Ibuprofen first, then your car.
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Birds chirp loudly, mocking the headache that's turned into something more annoying than painful after a handful of ibuprofen. The sticky air is still suffocating even in a pair of black biker shorts and an oversized loose fitting tee, while the sun shines golden against the cerulean sky without a cloud in sight to hide you from its light. 
The heat warming off its rays makes beads of sweat start to collect at the crown of your head and the nape of your neck, while the incline Eddie’s spinning auto body sign sits on top of threatens to take your breath away. Unwanted thoughts of Steve Harrington keep your pace quick, stewing over the last twenty-four hours and everything it’s unraveled.
The small parking lot is empty when you reach it, kicking small rocks with the toe of your sneaker as you cross it. The double garage doors are open, Metallica’s Seek and Destroy echoing loudly, tugging up the corners of your lips. Your Chevrolet Caprice is the only car semi-lifted in the air with a pair navy coverall-clad legs underneath it.
Opening your mouth, Eddie’s name dies on your tongue before you get a chance to shout it, clocking him and his wild curls sitting in the glass office inside. Those big brown eyes meet yours from across the way, a dimple filled grin lighting up his face waving excitedly from his chair before standing up.
“Glad to see you’re alive, princess.” He teases stepping out of his glass case, with coveralls that are gray today.
“Honestly, it’s a miracle,” you laugh, confused eyes darting to the large boots under your car that don’t seem to have any reaction to the sound of your voice.
“Oh, I heard all about your first night back home. In fact my shop opened thirty minutes late because of it,” he chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans against the open metal frame where the door should be. Faded bats that you remember when they were fresh dancing across his arm with his movements.
“Wait, what?” You ask, confusion pinching your brows together right as the mysterious pair of legs start pushing out whoever’s under your car.
“I didn’t get back to my place till almost four in the morning after getting you two home and in bed,” Steve emerges flashing you his million dollar smile as he sits up on the dolly, the sleeves of his own coveralls tied tight around his waist and hair wild like he’d just rolled out of bed, “I slept through my alarm.”
The immediate glare that hardens your face when you see him has Eddie's eyes light with obvious amusement. 
“What are you doing here? And why are you touching my car?” You snap, trying to push the worries about what you look like deep under the irritation and the distraction that begs to steal your anger with his arms on full display like this. Or how the patch of chest hair that peeks out the top of it shines with sweat. 
“I work here,” Steve snorts like it’s the most obvious conclusion, because, well, it is, “and I volunteered to look at it, Eddie’s got his hands full.” 
That was a lie, he begged him.
“Since when do you know anything about cars?” Snorting, your attitude makes him roll his eyes, pushing himself off the ground.
It’s a struggle to hold his gaze when he stands at full height, biceps flexing with his movements practically daring you to look. He pulls out a faded maroon rag from his pocket and starts wiping off the fresh black from his hands that’s already stained under his nail beds. The hard bottoms of his work boots making their way across the cement floors of the garage. 
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me anymore, that’s what happens when someone leaves for five years.” Steve antagonizes, his lack of sleep leaving him with thin patience.
He stops just close enough for you to smell how the woodsy spice of his cologne mixes with the sweet bitterness of the oil that seems to find a way to leave its mark on every surface in here. Including him.
“I’m going to finish balancing the books, why don’t you tell her the good news first and then the bad,” Eddie pours ice over the tension that threatens to boil over before it can turn hostile, catching the way both of your nostrils flare and shoulders square up.
“Wait, there’s good news and bad news?” Your focus on Steve shifts as Eddie’s words sink in.
“Like I said, I’m going to finish balancing the books.” The metal head reminds you, giving a half salute with two fingers while simultaneously shooting a stern look to Steve who’s mouthing something behind you. “Your mechanic’s going to go over everything with you, we can talk about pricing when it’s all said and done.”
“Seriously?” You bluster as Eddie shrugs with the kind of nonchalance that sends you reeling before sitting back down, tuning the dial-up on the radio in his office. End of discussion.
“Look -“
“How do I even know that you know what you’re talking about?” You interrupt, making his full lips set into a straight line.
“Are you going to be like this the whole time?” Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before crossing his arms, the tops of his shoulders moving with them. 
A pleading expression softens his features instead of the hard combative one you were anticipating, and it helps your blood pressure return to normal. The realization hitting you that maybe skipping breakfast with a hangover probably wasn’t your smartest idea.
“N-no, sorry, I just feel like -“
“Shit? Yeah, I bet.” He chuckles, and your jaw clicks. Maybe if you count to three…
“Just tell me what’s wrong with my car, Steve.” It comes out clipped, but it's an improvement from your fingers twitching to rip that handsome head right off those shoulders that won’t stop trying to distract you.
“How about you tell me the last time you had your oil changed?” He counters, taking a few steps back to sit on the hood of the rusted baby blue Buick behind him. 
“Uhh, I- I think,” All the blood rushes to your cheeks, warming your skin as you try to wrack your brain and not focus on the way his legs spread wide to keep his balance. “Maybe, like, six months ago.”
“Six months?!” The number must be worse than whatever Steve was preparing for when a dirty hand runs through his hair, “and then you drove it three states to get here?”
“Yeah, I - I mean, hearing you say it out loud,” you grimace thinking of all the weeks you ignored that flashing orange light on your dashboard.
“So then you shouldn’t be surprised when I tell you that your engine locked up.” 
“Is this the bad news?” 
“Kind of,”
“What do you mean kind of?”
“Look, the good news is that I can fix it, the bad news is that I have to order a few parts that could take up to three weeks to get here, then the job itself is going to take me probably another week.” He sighs standing up, starting back towards your car with you quick on his heels.
“That’s the whole summer!” You argue like it could possibly make a difference, frustration pricking at the corners of your eyes watching him pop open the hood.
“More like half of it, but hey, you’re lucky I can even get it running again without having to replace the whole thing.” He meets your gaze from under his lashes leaning over the engine, long nimble fingers unscrewing the cap where your oil should go.
“So what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to get around?” You know that part isn’t his problem, this entire mess is your own doing but it doesn’t stop it coming out in a whine. You blame your hangover.
“You’re gonna be just fine, city girl,” Steve grins up at you before reaching even further under the hood, muscles flexing with him, “besides we both know I can’t say no to Robin.”
He pulls at a small tube that’s purpose is unknown to you but you keep eyes trained on his movements like you have an idea, anything to keep the focus off the gold chain that dangles from his neck. 
“Or you.” The last part comes out so quiet, a focused look pinching his brows together as he continues his investigation.
“Me?” 
He doesn’t look at you when he shrugs, pulling at something with a little more force that makes you both flinch. 
“How much is this going to cost me, Steve?” Your defeat shows in your tone, as the question slips quietly from between your lips that you wish you’d have put gloss on now.
He grunts at the same time something pops against metal under his hands, muttering a string of curse words under his breath before standing back up wiping his palms on the white cotton of his tank top. Charcoal stains fill the small grooves in the fabric with each swipe of his hands, pulling the collar further down every time. It’s a losing battle not to look at his chest when every motion reveals more of the thick curls underneath. 
Steve clears his throat, letting you know that you’ve been caught and it’s at this moment you wish you could walk in front of the moving truck that drives loudly past the shop, only exaggerating the silence that follows.
“Don’t stress about that today,” he smiles, letting you off the hook for now, something mischievous dancing in his eyes for another time. “Like Eddie said, we’ll figure it out.”
“Don’t stress about it?! Have you met me?” You huff, the money you’ve saved up for the summer starting to dwindle right before your eyes. 
“I have actually,” Steve chuckles, stepping close enough for the tips of your shoes to touch his boots. He feels bold when you don’t make any attempt to move away like at the party or retreat when he closes the gap. A thumb and forefinger finding their way to your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, “and you’re going to be fine, I promise.”
Your lips part on their own, the full force of his face from this close stealing the breath from your lungs. You can smell the coffee he had this morning and the mint from his toothpaste still lingering on his breath. The stubble that lines his sharp jaw is even more noticeable today, tapering off at the top of his neck making the cluster of moles that live there stand out even more. A pink tongue runs over his full bottom lip and it has your lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks.
“Now go get some food, grumpy,” his voice comes out low, a teasing edge to it that reminds you of what it’s like to have Steve Harrington flirt with you. “I’ll call when I get the parts, okay?”
It’s like detention junior year all over again as you turn into putty in his hand. Still too attractive for his own good, all you can do is nod while all the fight you had left inside you disappears as the pad of his thumb swipes soft against your heated skin just under your pouted lip before letting you go. He turns on his heel after that, walking back to the box of tools he has spread out over his workbench before adding,
“Do me a favor and tell Robin she owes me a new shirt.”
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beta’d by @sweetsweetjellybean
🌻 chapter two
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redflagshipwriter · 2 months
Text
Hot Ghouls in Your Area
Chapter 2
It was a very weird ride. Danny felt like he was an authority on uncomfortable and strange conversations, given his bizarre family and all the experiences he'd had: but it was exquisitely uncomfortable sitting next to his bride sacrifice and making conversation.
The guy didn't offer his name. He was- honestly, he was built. Danny tried not to get caught visually measuring how absurdly broad the guy's shoulders were. He was weirdly offended that the cultists had sent him someone who was more ripped than he was.
"What's that?" The guy prompted. Jason. This guy's name was Jason. It was a little hard to keep in mind given he didn't really look like a Jason. He looked like… The Red Biker 👻😱🩸 or some shit.
Danny mentally rewound his own babbling and brightened when he realized that there was at least some interest in NASA's newest telescope. He infodumped on rote. It genuinely was an interesting topic! But he'd told 3 people about it already so it didn't take all of his attention.
At one point, Jason pinched his middle finger and used the grip to pull off his glove. Danny swallowed. He tried not to stare at the first glimpse of skin. It was not super light or super dark– a little tanner than Danny, maybe. Not that that said much when he was living like a cave creature in a dorm room, trying to get the grades to be an astronaut.
'He's human,' Danny thought. Of course he was, he'd been sent from earth, but-
He just felt like a ghost.
The confusion put his hackles up. It was weird to perceive this guy as a possible threat. But he wasn't! He was just some hot dummy who got caught by friggin Jeremy Waters. Jeremy. Come on. It didn't get much sadder than that.
But overall? He could see why the Infinite Realms had gotten mixed up enough to accept this guy. Red was definitely weird enough to be a ghost, dressed up for the combination war front/biker bar/club. He hadn't made a move to take off his ugly motorcycle helmet the whole time they'd been talking. It was kind of creepy, to be honest.
The most disturbing part was that he smelled, like, really good. He smelled like sexy death and Danny kinda wanted to roll around in it like the world's most educated cat.
It was with some relief that Danny bounded away from his semi husband, up the stairs to Clockwork. "You know who it is and why I'm here!" He hollered, hands making a megaphone shape around his mouth. "Help me! I'm too young to be a child bride."
"Technically," Clockwork said, floating pleasantly into view, "you are too old to be a child bride. As you are not a child, Danny."
He waved that off. "I'm a kid on the inside," he dismissed. "And 19 is basically a high schooler."
"As you say." Clockwork drifted away. Danny followed. "How is your university coursework?"
"It's fine." Danny shrugged. "The Gen Eds are giving me war flashbacks to Mr. Lancer, though."
"You liked him," Clockwork said.
Danny bristled. "I did not!"
He kinda had. Mr. Lancer could have been a lot worse.
That was beside the point. Danny caught up to his ghost mentor. "I can't be distracted from this," he said, aiming for stern. "There's some human out there who wants to go home. I also want him to go home. How do we make that happen ?"
"Why Danny, have you forgotten about portals?"
Danny scowled. "You know what I mean," he groused. "I want to send him home single. Unattached. Not married to me at all."
Clockwork finally stopped moving and looked directly at him. His large eyes held only a kind of curiosity. "I suppose that you could banish him. That would have the effect of ending your relationship."
Danny hesitated. He'd learned that accepting suggestions on their face could go very badly. "That seems kinda harsh," he said. "Would there be any repercussions of that?"
Clockwork hummed from the back of his throat. "Yes, it would prevent young Jason from becoming a ghost when he passes again. Excuse me, I want that shelf behind you."
Danny moved out of the way on reflex before he processed those words. "That sounds bad."
The older ghost seemed to shrug. "The Ghost king can banish ghosts, and your paramour is ghostly enough to qualify. It would solve your current dilemma."
He deliberately chose not to respond to the word 'paramour.'
"I'm actually looking for a solution that doesn't interfere with the state of his soul and afterlife," Danny said dryly. Then he blinked. "You're really gonna call him Jason?"
Clockwork reached up and withdrew a metal object from the shelf. It clicked in his hand. "Indeed."
Danny waited for another divorce suggestion. When Clockwork didn't give one, he groaned. "How do I find another solution?" He asked, tired. This was another test, wasn't it? It was a chance for him to problem solve on his own.
That netted him a beaming smile. "You should take him to the royal library."
"And look for information about ghost divorces?" Danny asked. Clockwork gave him an enigmatic smile.
He chose to believe that was a yes. Danny patted his mentor's shoulder. "Thanks!" He shouted, already turning on his heel. "I'll do that. Have a good day!"
"Goodbye, Danny."
Jason hadn't moved at all, sitting weirdly tense and tall in the passenger seat. Danny gave him a nervous smile as he jumped in.
"Did you find out anything?" Jason asked. His voice was even enough to obscure whatever it was he thought, and the helmet made the words come out kinda flat and mechanical.
Danny winced. "Yes and no," he said, trying to find cheerful. "The first solution seems kinda bad, to be honest, so let's go to the library and look for another one!"
"...Ghosts have public libraries?" Jason said.
"No," Danny said. And then he frowned. "Maybe? I don't know. I haven't seen one but I haven't been here long. We're going to Pariah's creepy old castle to look at his library." He started up the Specter Speeder and took off. "It's big. And he was a real creep, so he probably had, uh." He cleared his throat. "Paramours." His face was getting hot and red. Maybe it wasn't obvious. He tried to look unaffected. "Probably why that ritual was out there," he babbled. Wow, the minutes separating their destinations felt very long when he was digging a verbal hole. "He probably had a lot of sacrifices he accepted, maybe that's where the skeleton army came from actually."
"Skeleton army?" Jason managed to sound incredulous through the world's ugliest motorcycle helmet. "How do ghosts and skeletons both exist in proximity?" He cleared his throat. "I mean, if you don't need the physical body to exist, why would anyone retain their corpse?"
Danny laughed nervously. "Yeah, that's weird," he agreed.
'Don't ask me afterlife questions,' he mentally begged. 'I just work here. I don't know the answers.'
"Metaphysically-"
"Do you like sports?" Danny interrupted in a high voice.
Jason paused. "No. Do you?"
"...Not really," Danny admitted, thinking of getting ganged up on in dodgeball and knocked down in basketball.
They existed in what felt like a confused silence for a few minutes. Danny parked the Speeder outside of the castle and I clicked his seatbelt with a rush of relief. "We're here," he said. He threw open the top.
Jason didn't move from where he was flat against the backrest, only lifting his head. "... Should I come too?"
Danny blinked down at him and waved a hand in invitation. "Yeah, let's go. This is kinda my place now so I can invite you in."
Jason moved forward abruptly, like he'd just gotten unstuck from the seat. Something about it looked wrong to his hindbrain. But Danny dismissed it and started off at a jog. It wasn't his business if Jason was a weird little guy. (Weird big guy? It didn't sound the same, but Jason wasn't petite.)
Jason paused on the battlements. Danny looked back and tried to see it from his perspective. The architecture was jagged, pitch black, and without any of the friendly colorful touches a castle should have. "It's kind of creepy," he said apologetically. "Pariah has just the worst vibe. Rancid energy."
"...Is it smart to say that?" Jason wondered. He started walking again.
Danny shrugged. "What's he gonna do to me?" He asked rhetorically. "Get his butt kicked again?"
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ponderingmoonlight · 5 months
Text
Megumi's little sister falling head over heels for Yuji (and maybe Sukuna?)
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Pairing: Megumi's sister x Yuji; Megumi's sister x Sukuna; Megumi's siter x Mugumi sibling dynamic (Megumi being a cool big bro)
Word Count: 2,7k
Synopsis: After being set on a mission with your crush Yuji, your big brother and Nobara, things don't go as planned as all and force Yuji to sacrifice himself before you have the chance to tell him how you feel. Until Sukuna appears...
Warnings: drama over drama, hurt over hurt, but also a lot of fluff
Notes: I hate to brag about my own work, but this is honestly one of my favorite fics out of my own feather so PLEASE interact in some kind of way with it - will be forever grateful <3
Tags: @sunshine7queen @selen1um-hexafluoride @sanicsmut (tagging you bc I bet you'll like that)
Your breath gets stuck in your throat, just one look at the boy next to your brother is enough to make your heart skip a beat. Yuji Itadori is a walking green flag, the best boyfriend material you stumbled upon in your life. Just seeing his bright smile is enough for you to feel like flying, his inviting brown eyes sweeping you off your feet on a regular basis.
“Oh look, there’s (y/n)”, Yuji speaks out in excitement.
Despite the fact that you are Megumi’s younger sister, you are the complete opposite to him. Kind, open-minded and oh so sweet. When Yuji joined jujutsu high, you were the first who greeted him with open arms, showed him around, trained with him, gave him every little advice you’ve had. It truly is unavoidable to fall head over heels for you in that white uniform with that smile as bright as the sun.
“Hey Yuji, hey grumpy-cat”, you greet both boys, earning a huff from your big brother.
“What are you doing here, (y/n)? Aren’t you supposed to be on a mission right now?”, Megumi questions.
“Oh, Toge and Panda took over for me as the curse seems to be a grade 1. Also, Gojo-sensei needs me here for the training sessions”, you clarify.
Right, the training sessions. It doesn’t sit right with Megumi that you are partly responsible for them. You are a skilled jujutsu sorcerer, especially your tajutsu abilities are truly outstanding and it’s no surprise that you are the best combat fighter along with Maki. That’s why you grew especially close with Yuji…
Megumi hates the way his friend looks at you with hearts glistening in his eyes and heart hammering so loud that even he is able to hear it. It is no secret to anyone anymore that Yuji Itadori is hopelessly in love with you. How could he not? You are breathtaking beautiful and the kindest person walking on this earth with an angelic voice that could end wars. Only fools wouldn’t fall for you.
But the thing is that you seem to like him too. You, his little precious sister, the one thing he loves more than anything else in this world. The thought of you and Yuji being together alone makes his guts turn.
“Aren’t you too weak for that? You’re still a first year”, Megumi comments dryly.
“Huh? (y/n) is just as strong as you and me, maybe even better. I’m sure she will be great!”, Yuji instinctively replies.
You can’t help but admire him, that beautiful boy with the purest soul. Not even the fact that he inherits parts of the most dangerous curse on this whole planet can keep you from stumbling, crashing and falling for him.
“Yuji, I was wondering if you…If you’d like to meet up with me after today’s training”, you begin, nervously fumbling with your hair.
“No. Way. In. Hell”, Megumi hisses through gritted teeth.
Before Yuji is able to comprehend what is happening or even to answer your precious question, Megumi drags him along with him, away from your striking sight, back at Jujutsu High.
“See you, (y/n)!”, he shouts over his shoulder while waving you goodbye.
“Yeah…”, you mutter, hand dropping in disappointment.
When will you ever be able to get to know him better without your big brother interrupting every sweet moment you have?
“That girl…”
Sukuna leans forward, hand stroking his chin thoughtfully.
You are a pain in the ass, always on this brat’s mind. But you are very easy on his eyes, truly a beauty with decent abilities.
He laughs to himself, eyeing you up and down as your figure disappears.
“This will be fun…”
-the next day-
 It sounded so simple and enticing at first. Don’t fight, exclusively rescue survivors, if you encounter a special grade: run. Pairing up with Megumi, Nobara and Yuji. A difficult but manageable task.
Until you got caught in a sphere.
Until Nobara disappeared.
Until Megumi’s divine dog got killed and a special grade curse appeared in front of your very own eyes.
“We can’t leave without her!”, you yell, eyes roaming around in a desperate attempt to find Nobara.
“Not now, (y/n). We’ll find her later, right now we have to-“
This presence. The sheer presence of this creature takes your breath away without even seeing it. There is no doubt that this is…
A special grade.
None of you move, just staring blankly at this thing with its wide open eyes and alien-like appearance next to you. No. You can’t just stand there, move, try to attack it, try to fight.
Suddenly Yuji lunges himself at it, trying to slice into that frightful creature. In the blink of an eye, his hand falls to the ground along with the cursed weapon Maki lent him.
“I-ita…Itadori?”, Megumi stutters next to you.
Time stands still. You can only stand there and watch in horror as he turns around, blood squirting out of his arm.
“Yuji!”, you scream on top of your lungs.
No. No. No.
This can’t be happening. This isn’t reality, right? Maybe it’s Sukuna who tries to play tricks on you. You aren’t even able to hear what Megumi and Yuji talk about, ears ringing so violently that you feel like fainting, sweat dripping from every pore.
Is this how you’ll die? In your first year, together with the boy you never admitted your feelings to and your brother? This can’t be how it ends, you still had so much planned…
“Hey Sukuna, if I die here you die too, right? So you have to help me out.”
“Not true. Even if the part of me that’s inside you dies, there are 18 other fragments of my soul still out there. Still irritatingly enough, I don’t have control of this body. If you want to switch, go ahead and switch. But once you do, I’ll kill that brat before the cursed spirit can! Then I’ll go for that woman. She’s a lively one, I’ll have fun with her. Last but not least, there’s your little friend over there, or should I say girlfriend? What a pleasure it will be to see the light in her fade while she’s staring at the eyes of the boy she loves!”
The thought of him killing his friends with his own hands is frightening enough but killing you…Yuji stares at you in disbelief, the way your glossy eyes are widen in nothing but fear.
“I’m not going to let you do that”, he hisses automatically.
“I bet. But if you’re too focused on me, your friends are gonna die.”
“(y/n), watch out!”
Megumi grabs your collar just in time and pulls you to the side before you get hit full force by the curse. You hold onto his uniform for dear life, feeling like you’ll throw up any minute. This is all too much, way more than you can handle. You don’t want to die yet, especially not here, especially without telling Yuji how you feel. Megumi…You can’t both die here.
“Fushiguro!”
You’re still so young, so full of life…
“Fushiguro!”
Out of instinct, your eyes dart towards Yuji. Control your breathing, gain regulator over your ringing ears.
“Take (y/n) and Kugisaki and get out of here. I’ll keep this one busy until you three are out. As soon as you’re out, give me some kind of signal. Once you do…I’ll switch with Sukuna.”
“You know you can’t do that! Not with one arm against a special grade!”, Megumi yells at him while holding onto you tightly.
“Yuji…”, you breathe out, tears now running down your cheeks like waterfalls.
Please, this can’t be happening right now. What Yuji suggests…
Is his certain death.
“Look closer, it’s having fun. It’s obviously toying with us. I can at least buy us some time.”
“No!”, you cry out while tearing you away from your brother’s tight grip to grasp Yuji’s sleeve.
“I can’t just leave you here like that!”
“Please, (y/n), you need to-“
“I love you!”, you blurt out.
“I love you!, Please don’t leave me like that, I love you…”
“I love you too, (y/n), but you have to go now. Fushiguro.”
Your brother’s eyes dart towards you. Despite he has to fight back tears himself, despite the fact that he hates seeing you like that he knows exactly that Yuji is right.
With a swift motion, he frees your hand from Yuji’s sleeve and throws you over his shoulder, carrying you away from this special curse.
Away from Yuji.
“Come on, (y/n). We’re getting through this”, he interject between your toe-curling screams.
All you can feel is numbing grief. You can’t even hear your own cries anymore, vision getting blurry over Megumi’s shoulder. None of this should have happened. This was supposed to be a rescue mission, all of you should have been running the second that curse appeared. But now Yuji is in there alone with a missing hand, risking his own life to save yours.
“Divine dogs, find Kugusaki”, Megumi’s voice shouts from far away, the tiles underneath you moving in rapid motion.
Until slowly but surely, everything around you seems to get dark.
“(y/n), you need to stay with me. (y/n)!”
-later-
Rain wets your face and takes your sight as you open your eyes. Where are you? What happened? You lift yourself up from your sitting position, eyes darting towards Nobara and Ijichi-san who is about to stitch her head up.
Where is Megumi? And what about Yuji? A lump forms in your throat when memories of your last encounter begin to flood your mind. If he’s dead…
You clench your hands into fist, watery eyes darting in front of you. No, don’t think like that. There has to be a reason for Megumi being missing. He must be on his way to look after Yuji. And you’ll definitely to the same.
Your rapid steps make the water to your feet spray in every direction, sharp and heavy breaths hanging in the air. You just have to concentrate on Yuji’s signature cursed energy. After spending so much time together, it’s no problem to detect him anymore. And then you’ll hug him like there’s no tomorrow. Yes, he probably switched with Sukuna and returned as soon as the cursed spirit was gone.
Something makes you stop in your tracks. Foreshadowing, fear, hope? You can’t tell. But the atmosphere around you changed completely. Is he…?
“Yuji?”, you murmur into the heavy rain of the evening.
“Sorry, he’s not coming back.”
You can’t catch your breath, eyes wide open as the body of Yuji pins you against a nearby tree. These tattoos, that smirk.
This is Sukuna.
You fight against his claws as hard as you can only for him to chuckle over your efforts. No, his hand doesn’t move an inch away from your arm, holding you in place effortlessly.
“No need to be frightened, (y/n). Let’s talk a little, shall we?”
“Bring him back”, you hiss through gritted teeth.
“Who knows why, but he can’t come back. So I’ll keep you entertained”, he replies.
Sukuna wraps his hand around your neck, squeezing ever so slightly. Oh, you really are lovely with your wet hair and skin, let alone the way you glare up at him while heavy breathing. Somehow he gets it, how this brat fell head over heels for you.
“I don’t wanna be entertained!”, you yell into his face.
With full force you rip yourself out of his firm grip and attack him. Fists fly through the air, sending him into a nearby tree.
“I’m surprised, when you beat that brat over and over I thought it was because he is weak when in fact, you are pretty strong!”, Sukuna shouts while running towards you with neck breaking speed.
You were never confronted with Sukuna. Since you know Yuji, he was always able to suppress his presence. But right now… Your blood freezes in your veins, the way his usual to tender brown eyes are lit by raging red makes shivers run down your spine.  
“Come on (y/n), give me all you’ve got!”
You fight as hard as you can, hitting him with full force over and over. Until it seems like he has enough.
He pushes you into the dirt violently, rain pouring down as all you can do is stare up into his amused face while he sits on top of you.
“Not bad, girl. Not bad”, he hums amused.
His hand sure feels good wrapped around your neck. Yes, slowly but surely Sukuna definitely understands what that brat sees in you. A ray of sunshine while being feisty, looking feminine while being so strong. Impressive, truly impressive. And how the rain pours down at your stunning face.
“Bring. Him. Back.”, you spit at him, very own eyes glistening in thick hatred.
“Come on, don’t look at me like that. After all I am technically him. Just a much better version.”
“You will never be him”, you bite back.
His weight on top of you along with his hand wrapped around your neck makes it hard to catch your breath, let alone think straight. Yuji’s uniform is now completely soaking wet, revealing his tight muscles underneath. Of course you always knew how well trained he is. After all, you touched him many times before. But this, him sitting on top of you, his hand wrapped around your neck…
You shake your head. But this isn’t Yuji Itadori. This is Sukuna, the king of curses.
“What’s on your mind? I bet you secretly like that.”
You glare up at him and his stupid grin. What are you supposed to do? Whatever is going on, it doesn’t seem as if Yuji will come back any time soon. Is Megumi around? You can detect him either.
So you have to deal with this on your own.
Fine.
One last deep breath. One last spark of focus to defeat him.
As fast as you can you lift and wrap your legs around his neck, pushing your hips through and holding his hands around your neck in place. With full force you pinch your knees, drive your hips forward and free yourself out of his grip. You can tell that he didn’t expect this, that he won’t fight back. Your fists darts towards his face, only inches away until-
“(y/n).”
Just inches before you hit his nose with full force, you stop in your tracks. No, this didn’t sound like Sukuna. Could it really be…?
“Are you okay?”
“Yuji”, you breathe out.
You tear up, a silent scream of relief escapes your lips as you lunge yourself towards him, landing on top of his chest as you hug him tightly.
“I thought I lost you…”
“Sorry that you were worried. Did Sukuna hurt you? Are you okay?”
His tender brown eyes wander along your slightly bruised body while a wave of respite washes over you. You thought he is dead. Or even worse, that Sukuna will occupy him forever. But he’s back, the boy you love more than anything else.
“I’m fine. How are you?”
Your nails dig into his biceps while you look up at him through wet lashes, rain still pouring down at both of you without mercy.
“I’m okay. Especially since you’re fine.”
Your heart flutters, emotions threaten to overflow.
Screw it. Screw all of it.
“I love you”, you breathe out.
And then your lips meet his. Crushing down at him without mercy, through the heavy rain falls. You let yourself sink into his arms, fireworks are set off inside your stomach. God, Yuji could have died today, the second he faced that cursed spirit alone you were almost certain that you’ll never see him again. But now…Now you’re lying in his arms, kissing him with so much passion that you feel like drowning and suffocating.
“I love you too, (y/n)”, he mumbles against your lips, smiling sweetly.
“God, how much I love you.”
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avisisisis · 16 days
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"You think you can take whatever you want. Things you didn’t make, didn’t earn, things you don’t understand." The story of an indigenous boy fighting against a colonizer to get his home back. A teenager telling the man who is destroying his world that because it is so much more complex and important than what he sees, he will never get to have it.
Ezra's story is about connection, with all living beings: loth cats and wolves, purrgils, people, etc. And it ends with nature reclaiming what has always been its from the machine that is the Empire. It ends with the people getting their home back from the people who occupied it
And here's the thing: Ezra doesn't know a galaxy without the influence of the Empire. The history of the Old Republic, the tales of the Jedi, they're all fairytales to him. Yet he still fights for it; he fights for something he hasn't yet seen, fights for what's right, for his people and his family. He fights for freedom even if he doesn't know what it feels like
And it's this determination, this endless hope, that drives others to do the same as him. He, with only his words, is able to make things different. It challenges the whole "I'm just one person, I won't change anything" belief. Because Ezra is just one person, and one person can't do much on their own; the war is lost if it's only you fighting it
But Ezra frees Lothal. Ezra banishes Thrawn. Ezra inspires others to fight back. Ezra's sacrifice was not meaningless, and it will always be remembered. He will always be remembered
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saetoru · 2 years
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#𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋, 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐄𝐑
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☰ SYNOPSIS ⋮ gojo satoru has ruined your best friend’s life—and you’re about to make it a whole lot worse yourself ; part 2 here
— pairing ⋮ gojo satoru x reader
— length ⋮ 2.1k words
— contents ⋮ nsfw and 18+ content, fem! reader, mentions of betrayal (gojo is your best friend’s ex and you fuck him), (slight) mutual pining, toxic! gojo, lovesick! gojo, (slightly) mean! gojo, car sex, light choking, edging, unprotected sex, praise, creampie
— notes ⋮ this is for my soulmate @bxnten 's burn book collab <3 we r mean girls to everyone but each other hehe ily kitty cat <33
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gojo satoru is a sleazy, backstabbing, knife-twisting, and heartbreaking asshole. he has little regard for others, doesn’t bother to ponder the weight of his actions, acts as though the world revolves around him, and you’re sick of him—or so you tell yourself. 
he’s made your friend’s life hell, really. he’s made her cry, made her question her worth, made her sacrifice things she shouldn’t have to, made her so unhappy, that you can’t help but wish you could punch him in his (perfect) teeth. you tell yourself you’re sick of picking up phone calls that turn into hours worth of tearful rants, and you tell yourself you’re sick of being haunted by his cocky smirk as he shoots you a wink in the back of your mind. it’s how any good friend would feel—any good friend would look at him and wish he’d drop dead on the spot for all the times he’s fucked up. 
but you suppose you’re not half as good of a friend as you once thought you were—maybe you’re not as fiercely loyal as you gave yourself credit for. because what kind of friend would be sprawled on the backseat of the ex’s car that they’re supposed to hate? what kind of a friend would cling desperately to the same man they’ve said probably has a small dick anyway, drunk on the drag of his cock? what kind of friend would ever think about getting with their friend’s ex—let alone actually do it?
you, apparently.
“that feel good, sweetheart?” he chuckles, hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing lightly. your head spins at the cut-off of oxygen, a shaky gasp falling off your lips as your stare up at him. gojo chuckles, loosening his grip, kissing away the stray tears on your cheek as you whimper at the shallow thrust of his hips. “you like when i do this, huh? like when i fuck you like this? bet you like me, don’t you?” he grins cheekily.
he’s an asshole. 
a horrible, heartless, selfish, insensitive, and self-absorbed asshole. but his cock drags along your walls so good, the stretch making your mind fog and your back arch until your chests meet, your nipples brushing against his through the fabric and making you both groan.
“act like you hate me so bad, but i bet you were just mad, huh? are you mad i didn’t pick you first, is that it?” he pouts, squeezing your cheeks together and leaving you with no choice but to look at him as he presses his forehead to yours.
but you’re stubborn, you have been since you first met. you refuse to shake his hand when he first offers it, refuse to be on civil terms when he third wheels hangouts, and refuse to apologize first after any arguments that might stir. and you’re stubborn now too, closing your eyes to have some level of power of your own against him—but he only chuckles, bringing his hips to a stop and gritting his teeth as he feels the burn of his orgasm die down.
you whine, buck your hips, and open your eyes as you stare at him confused, “what the fuck? why’d you—”
“asked you a question, sweetheart,” he sneers, hand finding its way down to your clit, rubbing slow, agonizing circles that have you whining as your head tosses back.
“p-please, gojo—need it—”
“uh uh,” he drawls, that annoying, infuriating, and sickeningly smug little smile on his face as he looks down at you, “you gotta answer my question. then i’ll give you what you want,” he pats your cheek. “you wish i picked you, don’t you baby?”
“no,” you spit, glaring at him harshly, “you’re a fucking asshole. you don’t care about anyone’s feelings but your own, and you couldn’t love someone if your life depended on it. fucking dickhead—” you cut yourself off with a squeal when his fat tip slams into you all of a sudden, right against your spot, making your arms wrap tightly around his neck as your legs hook around his waist.
you’re clinging to him desperately by now, sobbing with every harsh roll of his hips, crying out every time his navel bumps along your clit and pulls you closer and closer to your orgasm. gojo’s jaw is clenched, his hands gripping your hips so tight, you almost think there’ll be bruises by the time he’s done. your slick and his pre cum leaves a messy ring at the base of his dick and a trail down the inner sides of your thighs, and maybe if he wasn’t so angry, he’d have made a cheeky comment about how wet you are.
“oh yeah, is that right? i don’t care about feelings? i can’t love someone?” he laughs, but there’s not a trace of amusement in his tone—it’s so condescending, so mean, you have to fight back tears. “you’re the best friend. i’m just an ex. wait till she finds out just how much you care,” he spits, venom lacing his tone as you gasp, shaky and just a little scared. it satisfies him maybe a tad bit too much. “i bet she’ll be thrilled to hear how lost on my cock you get, always beggin’ for more—aren’t you just a greedy little thing?”
“n-no,” you gasp, clutching onto his shirt tightly, fighting the wobble of your lips at the thought. “you can’t. you can’t! please, gojo, you can’t tell her, sh-she…she’ll never speak to me again a-and—”
“aw, don’t cry sweetheart,” he laughs, and his hips are slamming into your abused cunt mercilessly now, making your walls flutter around him as he lets out a low grunt, moaning against your ear—and he sounds so pretty, so sweet and divine and perfect, it makes your skin prickle with goosebumps.
you almost understand why it took your friend as long as it did to finally leave him.
“please, gojo,” you sniffle, teary eyes staring up at him pleadingly. it makes his heart jump, makes his heart ache a little deep in his chest.
because you’re wrong. he isn’t always an asshole, and he does care sometimes—in fact, he always cares when it’s about you. gojo satoru thinks he’d let the sun bleed out if he had to, as long as he has your smile to brighten his days for as long as he lives. because you’re wrong, he can love—and he loves you desperately.
he never wanted to fall in love with his girlfriend’s best friend. never wanted to be a shallow man with even shallower intentions, but who could hear your laugh and see your smile and not fall head over heels? it makes him mad—hurts deep in his chest and aches so bad, that he thinks you’re almost bad for his health. you don’t bat an eyelash at him, don’t even wanna be around him for longer than you have to be—and yet, he wants you by his side for longer than eternity. he can’t help but wish he met you first, can’t help but hate the universe for being so cruel, so heartless for making him find the one person he wants more than anything like this. 
he wants you badly, and the worst part is even if you want him too, you’d never let yourself indulge in something as retched as a betrayal—even if technically, you already have the second his cock sank into you. 
so he presses a gentle kiss between your brows, leaves a trail of kisses along your cheek and jaw, and he hovers over your lips. “i won’t tell,” he mumbles against them, making your breath hitch in shock, “won't say a word if you call me toru, yeah? jus’ say toru, just once, yeah? i gotta hear it.”
“promise?” you sniffle, “you promise you won’t tell?”
“promise,” he agrees with a nod, and he even holds out a pinky to seal the deal. a soft grin spreads across his lips when your own pinky hooks around his, the warmth of your touch, as small as it might be, lighting him up until he feels like his chest is pressed with the weight of the sun.
“kay,” you mumble, “need more, toru—please, gimme more,” you beg, and his name tastes so sweet rolling off your tongue, so saccharine it almost feels like it’s dripped with honey, trickling past your lips and rolling down your chin for him to kiss off. it makes your head spin that you never want to say gojo again now that you’ve gotten a taste of toru. 
with a shaky exhale against your mouth at the sound of his name, he pulls you into a hungry kiss, desperate and needy and just a little starved. his cock is aching by now, throbbing in your dripping core, balls heavy and ready to release as he rolls his hips faster into you. his skin slaps against yours, the slick sound of his cock bullying into your wet cunt filling the small space of his car, his body towering over you in the cramped back seat. he lets his hand find the soft flesh of the back of your thigh, hoisting your leg over his shoulder as he angles himself deeper into you, letting out a strangled cry when your walls flutter around him tightly. 
“fuck, that’s it—g-gonna be the death o’ me, sweetheart,” he grunts, “so good, takin’ me so well, yeah? so fuckin’ tight,” he rasps. his thumb finds your clit once more, rubbing harsh circles and watching entranced as tears spill past your lash line, staining your cheeks with a soft, wet glisten that makes his heart squeeze and his chest tighten. “god, you’re so perfect, so pretty. my pretty girl,” he coos, “my. pretty. girl,” each word is followed by a sharp thrust, and the slam of his tip against your sweet spot, and the way he sounds so possessive as he claims you as his makes your back arch and your nails dig into his skin through his shirt.
“toru, toru, ‘m close—please, ‘m so close—”
“i know, baby,” he pants, moaning into your neck as his head buries into the small space, breath fanning against your skin and making you shiver. “‘m close too, gonna cum—fuck, you’re gonna make me cum,” he whines. 
“fuck—toru, toru, ‘m…‘m cumming,” you scream, your orgasm crashing over your body, making your arms wrap around him tightly as you cling to him and sob. your walls spasm around him erratically, the sound of your mewls as you cry his name pushing him into his own release. 
his head digs into your shoulder, his body trembling over yours as he lets his hips slam into you sloppily, thick ribbons of cum painting your walls white as you feel his cock twitch with every rope. 
“oh fuck, baby, that’s it—sh-shit, feels so good,” he pants, “g-god you’re somethin’ else, should’ve…should’ve picked you. it should’ve been you—god, i love you,” he babbles into your skin, too overwhelmed by the pleasure burning through his spine as he fucks you both through your highs to even realize the words he’s admitted or the way you stiffen in his arms. 
he pulls out and stares at the mess between your legs for a moment, watching as his cum drips down your legs in thick streams. a small bit of pride bubbles up in his chest at the sight before he slumps his body over yours, head digging back into your neck and his lips pressing a soft kiss to your skin. 
“we can’t keep doing this,” you mumble, but your hand still finds its way to his hair, stroking through the strands gently. it feels right, like this is how it was always supposed to be—like this is how it should be. 
your words make his arms tighten around you, and gojo presses more weight against your body—like the more he presses into you, the longer he can spend in your arms. 
“sure we can,” he says stubbornly, “i promised i won’t tell,” he insists, voice lilting into what you think is borderline desperate—desperate to keep you here, where you’re his, where it doesn’t matter if he found you first or if he found you last. 
he found you, and that’s all he needs. 
“but—”
“i won’t tell if you don’t,” he pleads, “you’re still mine, baby.” 
and there’s a buzzing of your phone from the front seat, but you ignore it, letting your arms wrap tighter around his figure as you kiss the side of his head—and for a second, as bad of a friend as it might cause you to be, you think what someone doesn't know can’t possibly hurt them.
even if it makes you a backstabber.
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© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok
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artist-issues · 3 months
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THE END of the Hunger Games is flawless.
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The ending paragraph of "The Hunger Games" is so perfect. It so totally wraps up the whole point and takeaway of the books, and every character's journey, and nails it.
First off, the paragraph's context is about what you teach your children. Children, who are seen as the most precious treasure any person can handle in the book--treasures that can be turned into weapons and used against the treasurers. Children, who can bring down corrupt authority or keep it in place. So first off, a paragraph that addresses how important teaching children is is the best context for this perfect paragraph.
Second, Katniss is specifically teaching them what? "how I survive," which is her entire being. She makes every decision based on survival. She volunteers for Prim and doesn't kill Peeta in the first Games and chooses not to be with Gale and chooses to play her part against Snow all because she can't survive in a world where the alternative outcomes happen. Plus, survival is what other characters base their decisions on, too. 13 doesn't nuke the Capitol because it might ruin humanity's chances at survival. Hunger is the central plot device used to give Katniss all her skills, because without food, you don't what? Survive. Even "love" in these books is only another tool for survival; it makes suffering worthwhile, and purpose visible, and loss surmountable, and nightmares endurable, for every character. Finnick, Peeta, Katniss, Katniss' mother, even Buttercup the cat. The point of the book's lesson is "how to survive."
Third, the thing that could ruin love and pleasure's usefulness as a tool for survival is fear. But specific fear--"I'm afraid it could be taken away." It's fear that something you love, which makes survival worthwhile, could be taken away, and with it goes survival itself. The whole Hunger Games demonstrate that--"you rebelled against us? Then we're showing you that we can take away your children, the things that make survival worthwhile." And you know what? That's the dividing line between Katniss and Snow. Both Katniss and Coryo have survival as their ultimate goal, and have fear of the things they love being taken from them. For Katniss, it's the good opinion of the people of 12, it's her life with her sister and mom, it's the freedom from owing anyone anything, it's food and the ability to feed herself. For Coryo? It's his family name and reputation, his cousin and grandmother, his legacy, and his ability to never return to the cannibalism of the war. The fear of losing those things that they love is what could drive them to take no pleasure in them. To be afraid forever--and with fear comes the never-enough desire for control. To hang on to those things long after you've forgotten to take pleasure in them. Katniss almost does this with marrying Peeta or running from 12 or even becoming the Mockingjay. She's so afraid of losing what she loves that she jumps through hoops to control hanging onto them: does what Snow says, then does what Gale says, then does what Coin says. Plays a part in each of their games, to try and control the outcome. Coryo actually does do this, and for a while, has enough power to make that control almost universal. All because of fear of the things that he used to take pleasure in being taken from him.
Fourth, the alternative to focusing on the fear and the very-real danger of losing everything--is "focusing on every act of goodness I've seen someone do." This is just faith. Because it's true that the world of Panem (and the world in general) is full of people who are so afraid of losing control over what they love that they kill children and mutate nature to keep up the game, the illusion that they're in control. What you love could be taken from you. The world's full of that. But. The world also has unconditional love in it. People like Peeta, who saw that Katniss would kill him for her own survival in the first Hunger Games, but still chose to sacrifice for her anyway. People like Finnick, who loses everything including his mind, his body, and the things he loves most, but still gives Katniss the only rope he's got that's holding him together, just because he sees she needs it. Focus on that truth, instead of the simultaneous-truth that the it could all be taken away, and you'll have faith, not fear. You'll give up control and just enjoy what goodness you can. And when you do that, nobody can take it from you--not in spirit. Just like nobody could take Peeta's love for Katniss from him.
Finally, "it's like a game." To make a set of rules for yourself, a set of responses to the darkness of the world like making a list of things to focus on exclusively, is a game. It is a type of control--but it's just control of your own thoughts. Carefully using the game so that, in the arena of your brain, the love-shaped tribute is victor over the fear-shaped tribute. So that that battle stays in your head, instead of breaking out into a war that destroys what made your life worth surviving in the first place. Controlling what is your responsibility to control, instead of playing God and trying to control what's not yours. Drawing a line between what's good and what's bad, and staying firmly on one side of it without justification for crossing it.
That's why The Hunger Games is so good. Not because it has interesting dystopian settings, or because Gale and Peeta are hot and the romantic tension of the love triangle lets us self-insert ourselves. (Like other, worse YA fiction.)
No, The Hunger Games is so good because every part of it, from the characters to the setting to the symbolism to the names to the pacing to the development to the mood to the twists in the narrative, is used to uphold that main point. The main point that's so succinctly, cleanly, beautifully made in the last paragraph of the book.
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lesbaurinkos · 2 months
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Please tell us about looking up catboys on a lodestone and what is a graha and please as many pictures as you want and also is any of it gay i am very interested 🙏🙏
CRACKS MY KNUCKLES this is gonna be a long ramble because i have a LOT to say. as a passionate xiv player and such ^_^ god im gonna put a read more actually because this is gonna be so long. whoopsie!
so FIRST OF ALL g'raha tia is a much-beloved ffxiv character (voiced by jonathan bailey. like from bridgerton. that jonathan bailey. isnt that incredible) look at him. here he is. phil is so incredibly real
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he's a fan favorite for a reason he is so lovely and sweet and incredibly self-sacrificing and during my favorite story expansion, shadowbringers, we meet him as the crystal exarch- a leader of a dying world who has summoned us to help because we are that world's last hope. and his grand plan to save said world is ultimately to sacrifice himself. he's very depressed and very mysterious and slowly dying because his life force is tied to the crystal tower where he resides, which is what grants him power to keep going but is slowly crystallizing him, and he's just a very deeply tragic character at first... but then at the end of shadowbringers he LIVES! he has a new lease on life! and he didn't expect to ever get that far! so afterwards he's just so deeply earnest and excited about everything and it's so cute... so sweet... i love u graha <3 and this catboy is like gay as hell like he is soooo blatantly in love with the player character. who, like, officially in trailers and stuff, the default player character meteor, is a man. gayass cat!! anyway here's the crystal exarch figurine, which dnp own, and which i am jealous of them for. but it makes me smile that they have it. bc i love g'raha
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NOW ANYWAY. DAN AND PHIL'S CATBOYS!
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every ffxiv player character is displayed on this website called the lodestone, which has like community stuff and worldwide rankings and such. just like a standard mmorpg hub. and you can look up character profiles on there if youre curious, say, what mounts they have (cause in xiv you can get a whole bunch of different mounts to ride around on, from a massive shiba inu to a t-rex to the classic chocobo you are given at the start of the game to, like, actual cars and motorbikes) or what minions they might have (you can pick a little minion to follow you around in the game! just for like cute little aesthetic purposes. and they have minions of like cute little creatures, bosses you can fight, characters in the game, etc-- for example the minion iiii always have out to follow my catgirl around the world is a mini version of my favorite character y'shtola, who is a goth catgirl who is absolutely everything to me. wife of all time. she has the craziest lesbian dynamic with this goth butch named zero who you meet late in the story and who is SO everything as well. that's not the point. ANYHOW!) (also when phil said in the rating your favs video that if you play a cat in ffxiv youre definitely gay he was literally so fucking right. there are a bunch of different races to choose from, you can be elves, you can be bunny people, you can be dragon people, etc, but well. i play as a cat. they play as cats. fork. kitchen)
ANYHOW. so when phil said recently that his catboy was named MIKO STRIKER i was like "omg... i have GOT to go search him up on the lodestone and see what job he plays and how far he's gone in the story and such" and hereeee is his profile:
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31st sun of the 1st astral moon does translate to january 30th bc the ffxiv calendar is offset by a day. anyway the fact phil plays summoner is both so endearing and makes so much sense to me bc it's pretty well-known as the easiest dps class to play in the whole game. and i also started out playing summoner when i started!! and part of the summoner job is, well, summoning these magical creatures called carbuncles:
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isnt this thing cute... i love carbys. i named mine cherry tomato. im sure his is called susan or something ^_^ so delighted by the summoner rep. anyway then i went to look at his minions & mounts cause certain parts of the story award certain minions & mounts and i was like well i GOTTA know if dan and phil have finished endwalker (the most recent, emotionally devastating story expansion) (they have not, btw. both of their catboys are in the gear you get RIGHT before embarking on the final and MOST emotionally devastating leg of the story, but they don't have the mount and minion you get from FINISHING IT, which is killing me sooo bad. you guys.... go play the end of the story.... go cry.... it made me cry for like 7 hours nonstop it was so emotionally devastating. go do it lads)
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so yeah phil does lack the venat minion and argos mount which you get from finishing endwalker. but he DOES have this cute carbuncle mount which you have to buy with real money mind you!! and they come in 3 colors on the shop. this is phil's. made me smile :)
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and well after looking at phil's profile i was like "of course he doesn't play any other classes. yeah that makes sense. BUT i wonder about dan. where is his catboy" but without a name i couldn't find his profile without insane digging or something so i forgot about it UNTIL i was rewatching wdapteo sometime after christmas and i got to THIS picture:
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and the thing is that dan's catboy here is wearing job-exclusive gear. only people who play the monk class can wear that outfit there. my first thought was "what the fuck is wrong with him monk is the most baffling job on the entire planet" my second thought was "yeah ok of COURSE he plays monk" my THIRD thought was "wait. i can just look up catboy monks on the server miko is on then. i can totally go look at dan's catboy" and did so and within like five seconds arrived at D'HASH TIA here ^_^
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which like. definitely dan's catboy given the pictures we've seen of him. and the ffxiv calendar, again, is offset by a day, so the birthday IS june 11. bingo ^_^
and what is so special to me about this is that dan's catboy has a "canon" name while phil's absolutely does not-- sun seeker miquo'te (cat people) have clan names and then titles, basically, so a canon sun seeker male name would be like. letter of the clan, apostrophe, name, then "tia" at the end which is just a title for young males (like dearest g'raha tia). so yknow. d'hash tia is a proper canon name while also being so incredibly dan to pick, methinks. i love it
(and then i was going thru a lot and rewatched the japhan 2019 instagram stories and realized i didnt need to go thru so much because we've actually known theyre monk and summoner players since 2019. they went to the ffxiv cafe. they got job-specific drinks. for their fucking jobs. dan got the monk drink. phil got the summoner drink. it was always right there. theyre so funny)
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i do think it's so funny that neither of them have ever played another job in all their years of playing ffxiv. u guys there are so many jobs out there..... dan go unlock dark knight i know you would love the job story i know it in my heart...... but no they have stuck to their guns they have stuck to their classes all this time. it's beautiful to me
anyway d'hash tia's minions and mounts mostly match miko striker's which makes a lot of sense to me bc i imagine they probably play most of xiv together
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BUT the carbuncle mount d'hash has is the RED ONE. which sent me through every single stage of emotions ever.... you have to buy those mounts with real money.... and they bought matching ones.......... ridiculous. ridiculous of them.
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AND. dan's catboy also has the fat moogle mount. this beautiful thing right here
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which is another mount that costs real money to buy..... and it's a two-seater................ more likely than not he's flown the both of them around in this thing................... i need everyone to know this information. it's so important. to our society.
(also as an aside. the story they told in wdapteo about going to a gay bar in xiv. i cant state enough how real they were for that. bc roleplay venues are insanely common ingame and its so fucking funny and ive always wanted to go to one just out of sheer curiosity but if anyone ever spoke to me i would instantly log the fuck out. so the fact they did just that and then got flirted with by someone and instantly logged out.... like that's it. that's the exact experience. it's so beautiful)
(as another aside. xiv is real gay i prommy. and looking at their minions lets me know they've also done my favorite raid series, eden, which is essentially. two main characters, thancred and urianger, and their adopted daughter ryne who they CANONICALLY RAISED TOGETHER they are LITERALLY HER FATHERS, work to save the world and meet this goth girl named gaia that ryne falls in love with and like. ryne and gaia are blatantly meant to be canon to the point square enix made a spinoff game where characters very clearly based off them actually ARE together. it's adorable. little baby prep/goth lesbians. i hope dnp love them as much as i do. also im SO sure dan is a thancred fan honestly bc he seems right up dan's alley. anyhow look! arent they cute!)
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TLDR i am such a massive fan of dip and pip's xiv catboys and i need the world to know that they bought matching mounts bc it's SO important to me. and ive gone on great journeys here. amen.
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aspens-apothecary · 6 months
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Mabon Celebration Ideas!
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As some of you know, this Saturday is Mabon, the celebration of the Autumn Equinox. Some also refer to it as the "Pagan Thanksgiving", as you celebrate the bountiful harvest and are thankful for the earth and its many gifts.
Mabon marks the time of equilibrium, where the days and nights are of equal length. During this time, it is good to set intentions that involve decrease, such as ending unhealthy habits, self-destructive behaviors, or bad relationships.
Decorating for Autumn
This a great time to decorate for the coming autumn and spooky seasons leading up to Samhain! I like to open the windows and then cleanse my space(usually a simmer pot and smoke cleanse) and after, i actually physically clean the house.I then close the windows and stir my simmer pot, while setting new intentions for the household until the spring equinox. I then collect the things I want to decorate with(the usual fall decor; pumpkins, pine cones, leaf garlands, gourds and an autumn wreath on the door) and then decorate to my hearts content!
Release and Move Forward
Another thing I usually spend time on is meditation, centering myself, letting go of past baggage from the year and setting new personal goals and intentions until spring.
Find a nice spot outside, where you feel connected to the world around you. Take a journal with you, and meditate. Write down what you want the next few months to bring into your life. Set those intentions in any way you choose.
Have a nice Hearty Meal
Who doesn't love a good meal with great people? You can make a roast, hold a potluck Mabon dinner ect, I usually host a bonfire night and everyone brings their own dishes to feel the group. During covid, I made a pot roast for my fiance and I! You could also do a picnic!
Fall Activities
Apple Picking, Corn Mazes, going to a Pumpkin Patch, all fall activities that are fun for the whole family, as a cute date, or great solo fun!
Honor Persephone and Demeter
If you are one to honor deities/spirits during the holidays, Persephone and Demeter are two that will definitely fall into Mabon.
According to the myth, Autumn is the time where Persephone must leave her beloved mother and travel to Hades, to fulfill her role as the Queen of the Underworld. Each year she lets go of the concerns of the upper world, and willingly descends to guide the souls of the dead over the threshold of Life and Death.
Creating an altar, and leaving offerings for them in honor of their sacrifice is an amazing way to celebrate.
Other
Other things you can do include cleansing ritual baths, Divination for the new few months, hiking, offerings for the local nature spirits, make a gratitude list for the last few months and thank the earth for her gifts
Mabon Symbols:
Cornucopia (horn of plenty), pinecones, seeds
Colors: Orange, red, yellow, brown, copper, dark yellow, dark green
Foods: Corn, beans, squash, apples, pumpkins, cider, root vegetables, pomegranate, wine
Herbs: Yarrow, rosemary, sage, mugwort, rosehips,
Stones: Amber, citrine, cat’s eye, aventurine, sapphire, jasper
Flowers: Sunflowers, thistle, marigolds
Deities: Mabon, Green Man, Demeter, Persephone, Morgan, Pomona, Inanna
Animals: Owl, stag, blackbird, salmon
I hope this gives you a few ideas! Add your own ideas to this list! These are just the ways I like to celebrate!
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sgiandubh · 4 months
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S on BBC 4's Saturday Live: 'anything but a quiet life'
As you all know, S was today on BBC Four's Saturday Live radio talk show, sharing the scene with people like super male model David Gandy, Catrin Finch - a Welsh harpist of international repute and the ever fascinating Lucy Worsley, a strong contender (along with Mary Beard) for the title of personal favorite (living) historian.
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You can listen (as I dutifully did twice) to it here: https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/m001t96r. I don't know how to embed it on this page, but that shouldn't be a problem.
The show is always interesting and I strongly suggest to let it play along and not rely only on my summing up & comments. I particularly enjoyed Lucy Worsley's Medieval and Baroque musical selection (flawless!) - but enough said, we're here for S, who was live on show from BBC's London studios.
As usually, I am going to transcript it as much as I can, primarily for those reading this post and using Google Translate (@bat-cat-reader, you are served!). So, you will kindly excuse the length, thank you.
At the 07:40 mark, a half jocular mention when prompted by the host: not a cricketer and not a harpist either (you can say many things about S, but not that he's got no humor - always a big plus in my book). But then things quickly get emotional, when he immediately mentions his mother (the question generally asked was 'what did your parents sacrifice for you?'), who 'sacrificed a lot (...) [as] a single parent, (...) she gave us everything, I think'. And then he quickly gets emotional, mentioning Chrissie H. again:
'(...) can I give my mom a shoutout, it's her birthday, on Monday [Nikki Bedi, presenter: 'aww, of course you can!'], so happy birthday, Chrissie, and thank you so much and I wish... I'm glad you never got me a harp, because I would have never dedicated myself. I think that's why I became an actor, because I didn't have to work too hard at one thing.'
It's then David Gandy's turn to talk about his own rural childhood in Billericay (Essex), his close knit family and his parents' endeavor of building a business and the now incomprehensible need to use faxes, something he has now to 'explain to the younger ones'. Then Nikki Bedi turns to S (13:08): 'Sam's laughing at that. Do you remember faxes?' Answer: 'I do.. I mean, I remember faxes getting scripts through or couriers bringing you know, scripts to your door, it..it's just a completely different world, now, and I am sure the fashion world is completely different now, isn't it, David, I mean it's changed so much'.
Onwards to more questions asked by Mrs. Bedi. This one was interesting (19:16): 'Sam, do you fear that each job you do is an act that could be your last? Is that always in the back or front of your mind?' Answer: 'Yeah, I think.. David, I mean...um... earnestly, everything you're saying there kinda rings true for my career as well... I am sure for Catrin being, you know, being a musician, I think it's, you know [Nikki Bedi: is it true, Catrin? CF: yes, absolutely, yeah, many things David said... it's the same (...)'].
Huw Stevens mentions alternatives to 'gigs', the need to plan for the future and the fact 'you always have to remain busy', mentioning S's whisky. Gandy also mentions S ('you've got quite a few businesses [...] a man after my own heart, we'll then gonna have to go out'), immediately cued in by Nikki Bedi ('whisky, tequila, gin').
Just after Lucy Worsley's superb intervention (easily my favorite of the whole program!), cue in to the kilt on a glacier part of S's chit-chat I am sure we all dutifully 🙄, by now. I noted the slight hesitation in his voice, while mentioning 'my...my friend, Graham McTavish', so I will not - yeah, sue me-, I repeat: I will not transcript this verbatim, simply because it doesn't really bring anything new or important to what we all know, already. Sitting on a glacier 'in a kilt, in commando, yes, it's my claim to fame'. Disgruntled Tumblrettes, beware - he poked fun at himself (shall I sign this to you, or are you able to read my lips?) and that is something only very intelligent people are able to do without sounding pathetic. Another interesting thing is the way Nikki Bedi presented S ('the actor, award-winning liquor maker and writer'- 36:00), roughly midway of the whole broadcast.
His dedicated segment begins at the 49:10 mark and lasts until the end, about 10 minutes in all. He was introduced by Huw Stevens: "Sam Heughan, it seems, would like anything but a quiet life", plus some cursory bio elements, mentioning his mother's influence on his own creativity, his breakthrough as JAMMF, but also TCND (Nikki Bedi watches it and 'apparently the third episode is the most steamy' 🤦‍♀️). 'He is also a philanthropist, businessman and thrill seeker, and of course, as mentioned earlier, has his own whisky and is a best-selling author'. Mentions his 'parents, characterful people, hippies, in the Seventies, with a love for Tolkien'. S: 'my mum would probably kill me if I called her a hippie' - also, 'she is not the best singer, but there was always music around'. Stevens mentions the Gandalf's Garden Soho hippie community both his parents were a part of before he was born, but S doesn't develop it. The rest (difficult childhood, loner, using his imagination sparked his creativity, etc) we know from Waypoints. The very Scottish concept of 'stravaigin'' comes along in the conversation, which is not exactly a drifter and a bit more than a wanderer (if I understood correctly) - perhaps a good title for a second personal memoir, S? I'll leave this idea float in here for free, heh. OL comes along then, and by far the most interesting thing he mentioned about it is that "it is my life, it's taken over my life', hoping it would sparkle at least some conversation in the comments' thread. OL 'has also been hugely beneficial for Scotland, increased tourism by 200% in some locations (...), and it's all down to the magic of Scotland'.
Next projects: exciting not to really know what is next, but 'I am also saying no to a lot, because I am in a place now where I think the next decision is really important (...). I enjoy being in control now (....), producing my own shows and you know, my own products. (...) once you take control of that creativity (....) there's a lot of freedom and yeah, we shall see'.
And then Huw Stevens makes a joke - but was it really a joke? it's the BBC, after all - and says that all four of the guests could contribute something to what 'could be the next generation of Bond', (S: 'the finest British production'). Cue in an anecdote about S being invited to present an event to Buckingham Palace and taking a cab to a pub, right afterwards. MPC and tomorrow's book signing at Saint Pancras station wrap off the show.
Quickly, my 50 cents on it: way, way better than expected and S always delivers when they ask no weird questions about his private life (hallelujah, maybe they listen to us, after all?). The question about the fear of each job being the last reminded me of one of his answers in a very early interview: 'your biggest fear? getting the sack'. This time, his answer, whatever he intended to say, got lost in the brouhaha, but I suspect not much has changed, essentially, even if the 'after OL' part of the show strives to tell a more optimistic story.
But the thing that impressed me the most and in a very good way is the attention he got from all the other people invited in that studio. Unlike the social nobodies of Tumblr, they did not find bizarre the fact that he created his own spirits business and is actively promoting it. They were far from judging him: in fact, I even think he made a new friend of David Gandy, who had quite positive and nice and honest things to say about him. S was articulate and graceful and very moving every single time he mentioned Chrissie. And I am also sure he would have loved to share more things, especially when David was lovingly talking about his wife and daughters. But he couldn't. And that is a shame. But this too, shall pass - The Boy is slowly learning to say no to a lot of things, as he just let us know. Probably the best news we've got from him in a good while.
And now, onwards to a particularly venomous Anon I am still pondering the answer to.
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Iron Flame Thoughts! (Spoilers)
I finally finished Iron Flame (IF) and I definetly have some thoughts about it. I've seperated my thoughts into Liked, Disliked, Predictions BELOW THE BREAK LINE so people don't have to see spoilers. Also it's not in any particular order, just how it popped into my head.
Liked:
Tarin and Andarna's bickering. Her sassiness with his grumpiness was just the bees knees of adorable.
Cat, this may surprise some people but I really liked her development as she and Violet got to know each other
Gryphon Riders in general were a nice addition, I want to know more about their school/lifestyle/countr(ies)
Violets development was really good. It was great to see her know her own strength more and stand up for herself/dragons/loved ones. Huge contrast from Fourth Wing (FW)
The relationship between Violet, Mira and Brennan. Loved the way Mira punched B when she saw him but ultimately loved having her brother back. Can't wait to see more
Mamma Sorrengail's sacrifice for her kids/everyone. Heartbreaking but only way she could redeem herself
Dain's return to the "good" side. It was great development to have him see the error of his ways, say no to Varrish (which is huge for him) and then prove himself again during the hike with the Riders and then again in the final battle.
Aaric/Cam, I love me a rogue Prince so this hit all the right spots (more on him later)
Andarna being a seventh dragon. Excellent. Amazing. Can't f*cking wait to know more
The reveal of Xaden's second signet. Shook, but obviously bb knew how to control it
The relationship between the main four in Iron Squad (Vi, Rhi, Ridoc and Sawyer.) I love a good platonic friendship (more than romance stories) because I think having found family in your friends is just friggin beautiful
Sawyer and Jesinina (I know that's spelled wrong)
Varrish, bare with me I hated him but props to RY for writing and awful character. I clapped when he died.
The battle at the end
HALLUCINATION LIAM!!!
Disliked:
XADEN AND VIOLETS CONSTANT BICKERING. It gave miscommunication trope over and over.
Xaden and Violet fighting and then being like you are my gravity, I love you so f*cking much etc. This seemed very Twilight-y (and toxic TBH)
Xaden with holding everything from Violet because she wasn't asking the right questions. Frustrating.
Having Vi tortured/injured over and over again (and I say this as a whump fan) I think she does it to show Violet's strength/resilience, but it's not necessary we know she's strong.
Markham being an asshole =(
Jack Barelow coming back- I understand why I just don't like him and wanted him to stay dead
Honestly, don't like Xaden turning Venin. Obvs as of right now we don't know why she made that choice, but I don't like it.
What I think will Happen Next
Next book Xaden is going to be fighting his Venin nature for the whole book but will ultimately choose to leave at the end- fourth book he will be barely there and fifth he will either come back still fighting his Venin self OR be full Venin.
Navarre/Basgiath/Aretia will fall to the Venin
Aaric/Cam will ultimately become important because I think the King will die and Aaric will have to step up as next in line.
Andarna will be the most badass dragon in the world
I do think Violet and Xaden will be endgame IF he lives. Here are my thoughts on that:
1) Violet and the others will find a cure for the venin and save Xaden
2) Xaden will become a full Venin but when it comes time to kill Violet he will unalive himself instead (Ben Solo redemption arc) in a moment of regaining his former self. I don't want this to happen at all.
I think Xaden's mom is the Queen/Lord of the Venin, which is why they want him so badly.
This is everything that came to mind, I am sure I will find other things that fit into these lists. Let me know what you thought, or we can compare lists!
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literary-illuminati · 2 months
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2024 Book Review #3 – Monstress Volume One: Awakening by Marjorie Liu and Sana Takeda
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Monstress is one of about three comics I’ve ever considered myself an unequivocal fan of. I, alas, lost track of things during a hiatus a while back, and got to the point where I barely remembered where I was or what was happening. So, as a palate cleanser between longer books, I’m making it a project for the first chunk of the year to reread this from the start until I’m caught up again.
This is a very high concept series – a matriarchal dieselpunk fantasy world vaguely inspired by 1920s/30s East Asia with a strong art deco aesthetic. The world is divided between the Arcanic Courts – kingdoms ruled by the animalistic ‘Ancients’ and populated by the Arcanic descendants of their half-human children – and the Federation – a human nation-state dominated by witch-nuns who derive their influence from being able to render down the corpses of said Arcanics into magically potent ‘lilium’. Also there are insubstantial projections/ghosts of titanic tentacle-ey monsters that wander across the landscape sometimes. And a genocidal war ended in a stalemate a decade ago after a city was destroyed by something that no one on either side understands. Oh an in addition to the anthromorphic animal Ancients there’s also just normal cats, except they’re sapient and capable of speech and also necromancy. The book really throws you into things and a decent chunk of the first volume is just introducing and establishing the rules of the world.
The actual plot follows Maika Halfwold, an Arcanic who can pass for human except for the giant occult tattoo on her chest. The story follows her abandoning her girlfriend and voluntarily getting herself enslaved and brought to the mansion/mad science laboratory of a powerful witch-nun so she can break out, fight her way through it, and interrogate her at gunpoint for information about the giant gaps in her memory of when as a child her mother worked with the witch on an archaeological dig. Things escalate from there due to a shard of an enchanted mask and an eldritch abomination that had been slumbering with Maika’s body who is awoken by it. The balance of the volume is spent with her, an incredibly untrustworthy cat, and a vulpine arcanic child who she more or less accidentally rescued from slavery as they try to escape the manhunt after them.
So there’s a lot here, and I really do love almost all of it. Most obviously, the art is just gorgeous – I mean, I’m an easy sell on dieselpunk/fantasy 20s stuff, but genre trappings aside the detail and use of colour is just incredible, and even the less detailed panels do an amazing job capturing expressions and emotion. Basically every aspect of character and environmental design is just very deliberate as well – aesthetics reflect character, and scenes are full of little background details that help sell and fill in the world. But fundamentally just very pretty, an aesthetic pleasure to behold.
Of course, one of the things a whole page of artistic flourishing is devoted to is a flashback of Maika – a starving enslaved orphan during the war – eating the stomach of another child who’d died before her to keep herself going. This is a book that just about exults in brutality and brokenness – ‘there is more hunger in the world than love’ is basically the tagline of the entire volume. This is a world on the verge of a genocidal total war, rife with slavery and human sacrifice, and it pulls absolutely no punches about depicting that (so, so many dead children). With, like, one-three exceptions everyone is flawed and compromised and betrays something they care about when their backs are against the wall. You really and truly can’t trust anyone.
You can see this clearly with Maika herself. She’s just, genuinely an incredibly unpleasant person to be around. Responds to feeling unsure or anxious by lashing out, all but incapable of showing affection in any legible way, too wrapped up in her own mountains of bullshit to even notice what anyone around her has going on until it’s shoved right in her face, paranoid and suspicious and more comfortable with violence than uncertainty, has 100% gotten people killed multiple times due to lack of ability to get over her own (mountains, abyssal, soul-crushing) trauma – really the list just goes on. In her defence basically everyone is actually out to get her (sadly the paranoia and suspicion do not in any way actually make her more difficult to deceive or betray). Anyway, I obviously love her, and the supporting cast is very nearly as good.
Just, generally this is not a series where suffering is ennobling – fear and shame and trauma and a desperate need to cling onto what power or privilege you can drive people as much or more as sympathy for or solidarity with others going through the same things they have. The fact that the Federation is run by a bunch of genocidal religious fanatics doesn’t mean the Ancients ruling the Arcanic Courts are good, or even necessarily that they care about the lives of their subjects beyond their own power and pleasure. It could easily tip over the edge into monochrome nihilism, but it actually manages to toe the line very well.
Though like, despite everything I just said, it does do the oddly common modern genre fic thing where there’s brutal unsparing depictions of colonial plunder and oppression but also everyone’s an intersectional feminist. Not as much as some, but the race-war is between humans and arcanics with no one seeming to care on whit about intraspecies ethnicity or race, and the setting is matriarchal in the modern implicit glass ceiling way a modern American corporation is patriarchal, not the way a midcentury warlord state or fascist empire is patriarchal (not that this means there aren’t graphic threats of rape or depictions of what’s clearly sex slavery just that being the one holding the lash isn’t really gendered).
So yeah, overall happy to report that the first volume of this still absolutely and entirely holds up – and considered as a work on its own the first volume really coheres far better than I’d realized when I was first reading this in one mad rush. Very much looking forward to continuing on to volume 2.
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writing-for-life · 5 months
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Give me your head-canons:
How do you solve the Orpheus problem?
[And as always: Send me asks about everything Sandman-related!]
As in: It’s the elephant in the room in so many canon-compliant or -adjacent fanfics I read (we obviously don’t need to talk about coffee shop AUs) and Orpheus either keeps on existing somehow (and no one cares, because Dream and whatever love interest just literally fuck off into the sunset and pretend everything’s okay), or he gets killed by someone else who quite strictly wouldn’t be able to kill him.
Is it a solvable problem?
If he keeps existing as a severed head, it’s honestly a bit shite for him, isn’t it? So these are the fics where we keep on visiting severed heads. I don’t know, I find that… dissatisfying.
If Dream kills him, it’s over. Unless he stays in the Dreaming and lets the storm blow over. Will it though? I mean yeah, he could sit there for all eternity (groan), not take Death’s hand and make sure he doesn’t conveniently leave so the Kindly Ones get in and start ripping the Dreaming to shreds. But that doesn’t really sound like a solution to me either, because the problem won’t go away. Also: Probably no meetings in the waking world with you-know-who ever again. Plot hole, people, it doesn’t work that way.
If someone else kills him: Who? Please don’t say Hob, I know he’s immortal (so was Murphy), but the very idea is that no one can kill the poor kid because he made a deal with Death, which she apparently can’t revoke. Is there an entity who could? Which links in to the question: Why could Dream (somewhat rhetorical question)? Could any similar entity do it if they also had to grant him a boon? But don’t forget: Can’t be one of the Endless, they’re all family. Unless one sacrifices themselves. I mean, I think I’ve seen Death doing that in a fic somewhere, I think the assumption was she’s okay with dying a mortal death, but I also felt that’s not quite right, since it’s just not the same (also: in her mortal form, she wouldn’t have those powers). Does it have to be The Presence/Glory? Why would they care?
Yeah, he could use the Saeculum I guess, but really? If the problem never existed, it would also feel… wrong? Plus, we all know that changing the past always has implications on the future that go far beyond the thing we want to change. Plus plus: I honestly think it would be a bit OOC for him because he’d feel there’s not enough at stake (like a whole universe imploding) to ever justify that. So no, that’s, IMHO, making him into someone he really isn’t (can of course be an option in fanfic I guess).
Same goes for the Dream of a Thousand Cats Spiel. Someone who is so wrapped up in his duty just wouldn’t do that for his own personal gain, and not even for one loved one (he also wouldn’t be allowed to kick it off by telling anyone, and what 1,000 dreamers would dream that? I mean, WE all would, but that’s a bit… meta?😂). I said what I said.
Or is it some sort of magic? Like, he’s still a severed head, but we make him *think* he isn’t, give him back a body (in his own mind, or maybe even for real)? But that’s also… not great and feels like gaslighting him. Really not keen.
So what say you?
Is this just a case of: Unsolvable problem, hence we might as well pretend we solve it in some ridiculous way or pretend it doesn’t exist in the first place?
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anelegaicmind · 4 months
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The first sign of civilisation in an ancient culture was a femur (thighbone) that had been broken and then healed — Margaret Mead, anthropologist
The dictionary definition of civilised is "bring (a place or people) to a stage of social and cultural development considered to be more advanced."
But at what point do we draw a line of what is more or less advanced? Does it only exist in the contemporary moment or is it at all times throughout history? Is the USA more civilised than ancient Rome? Was Nazi Germany more civilised than the ancient Greeks? Both societies could be argued towards a development more advanced than the former while the reverse could also be equally argued.
The observations made by Mead instead paint a critically important light for the human species. Our advancement was not due to art, the ability to wield fire or control shelter, nor even our ability to so effectively wage war. Much rather it was our innate compassion and aid. Our willingness to help our fallen comrade, at the sacrifice of our own comfort, is what brought us as a society to gather around the campfire. It developed our desire to share. The very possibility of our specializations as farmers, bakers, blacksmiths is only possible as we instinctively view our position within our communities as one of aid toward a whole. A whole that comes together and grows as one.
Any other metric of art, technology or philosophy is borne only out of our desire to aid one another. To measure a the civility of a society by any metric other than aid is to excuse the most basic effort that any civilisation attempts to create: that more good can be achieved by coming together.
Focusing on a metric of aid as the foundation of civility allows us to exclude societies that have formed with the intent of harming others as inherently uncivilised. It excludes any societal pursuit that is other than aid because it is clear that where aid suffers so too does humanity. What use is tilling the earth to generate an excess of food if a beggar starves to death on the road outside the farm? What use is an advanced, global logistics if a homeless person starves in front of a supermarket? This is inherently uncivilised. How can it be viewed in any other way? A society can only be deemed civilised when the major priority is to put their arm over our shoulder and hoist them back onto their feet.
Humanity is obsessed with creating rifts and distinctions between itself and the animal kingdom. It is a common insult across cultures to compare someone to a dog, pig, donkey, cat, chicken etc for any negative attribute that can be conceived. So what is it that truly separates us? It is not our ability to farm or develop technology. Ants have farmed for millenia, crows can develop tools to solve a number of problems. However, our ability to protect our weak, sick and injured from predators, while still not being entirely unique, is the root that allowed all of the traits necessary for society to develop to what we have today. It would seem as though as society develops so too does the predator, from a wolf to a banker on Wall Street.
What countries can you think of that fulfil this basic criteria of civilisation? I sadly can think of none other than the heroism of the Palestinians who despite their continued devastation and bombardment continue to rescue and aid each other. There is much we can all learn from them both in our smallest communities to the world stage.
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musings-of-a-rose · 1 year
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I've been a Joel supporter since the game came out and after watching that episode, and especially now that I've become a mom since the game, I still stand firm in my choice to support what Joel did.
For those saying "But he lied to Ellie!" - yeah. He did. But you know who else did? The Fireflies. Marlene. She even had the balls to say to Joel "You're not giving her the choice because you know what she'd choose." Implying that she would choose to be operated on. But you know what? She didn't give Ellie a choice either. Marlene even said they sedated her and told her nothing so she wouldn't be afraid. That right there says Marlene doesn't know for sure that Ellie would choose self sacrifice, so she withheld that rather important piece of information from her.
Ellie is also 14 years old. This sort of decision is way too much to put on her shoulders, and I say this as a very mature 14 year old when I was that age.
"Ok, but this is the fate of the world!" Says who? What they didn't give you in the show was the letters/notes Joel finds in the hospital saying Ellie wasn't the first immune person that they've performed lethal surgery on to poke around in a brain. And you know what? None of it worked. Could Ellie have worked? Maybe. But it's a slim chance in hell it would and that just wasn't worth it to Joel.
You also can't vaccinate a fungal infection. It doesn't work that way, which is why doctors give people creams and hope for the best when they have fungal infections.
Also, this was ONE doctor with some nurses. A doctor and a scientist are not the same thing. Granted, a doctor would be better at figuring something out, but that wasn't his area of expertise. He'd need a whole team of experts to even hope to find a cure IF it was there. They also had no equipment, no mri's or cat scans, nothing. Yes, they were in a hospital but right before Joel enters the room, one of them asks "Do we have enough power?" They're not even sure they can power the room to perform the surgery - how ar they going to spend countless months and years on a supposed cure?
BUT let's overlook all of that and say by some miracle they find a cure. How are they going to mass produce said cure? They most likely don't have the resources for this as everything is shut down and 20 years old. And even if they did, how to mass distribute it? Marlene said the Fireflies would, but so many people distrust them so who's to say they'd accept it? Not to mention Joel, by himself, took out an entire building of them.
Marlene also had the audacity to say to Joel that she understands his plight because she was there when Ellie was born so she gets it. No, you don't. You took your friend's baby out of obligation and put her in an orphanage and straight into a FEDRA school/camp. Marlene came back when Ellie was bit, chained her up in a room for weeks, and kept performing experiments on her to see if she would turn. She didn't raise Ellie so she couldn't possibly have known that sort of connection.
In the end, Joel chose love because he loves Ellie like he loved his daughter. And if I were in his shoes, I 100% would've made the exact same decision.
Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.
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youngyoo-apologist · 3 days
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I will never forget how like most of the TCF cast never got to have proper childhoods, OG!Cale, Kim Roksoo, Choi Han, Choi Jung-gun, Alberu, Ohn, Hong, Beacrox, etc
Like most of these guys were either
A. Fighting for their lives(Choi Han, CJG, Alberu, Ohn, Hong)
B. Actively on the path to self destruction(OG!Cale)
Or just like having an awful time in general. Like it’s really sad how for a long time, none of them could actually act or be like kids due to the environment they were in.
Alberu being royalty and having to hide things about himself, and probably avoid assassination and kidnapping attempts since he was young.
Kim Roksoo and how he lost his parents at a young age and was abused by his uncle.
Ohn and Hong having to run away because the Cat tribe mistreated them, and they had to survive on their own.
Choi Han being taken away from his family and fighting alone for over a century in the dark forest where he had no one but himself and the monsters that wanted him dead to keep him company.
Choi Jung-gun also being taken away from his family, and losing people who took care of him again, along with like living a thousand years going through who knows what + whatever the hell the god of death made him do.
Beacrox losing his entire family except his father when he was no older than fifteen, and immediately having to live on the run right after.
OG!Cale taking it upon himself to protect his family, and essentially destroying himself because he didn’t know what else to do.
I think about Ohn a lot, like the fact that she was what, nine, maybe ten years old when she had to run away with Hong and make sure they were both okay. The fact that she was protecting him and herself at the same time, the way that she couldn’t ever play around or have fun when she was growing up because she had to make sure they were both okay. She took on as much as she could for Hong because that’s her baby brother and she loves him more than anything.
OG!Cale and Ohn and like, how they both did everything they could for their younger siblings, ohhhhhhh I’m crying I’m crying I’m crying donnttt even look at me rn
Also Hong and Basen, like being the little brother who watches your older sibling take on burdens alone and you want to help but at the same time your your sibling tells you it’s okay and that you should just focus on yourself… When the trope is older sibling(or family figure in general) taking care of younger siblings and they make sacrifices for them, I’m not crying, what do u mean? I actually do not care. At all. Not . One. Bit.
ALSO LOCKKK , TBoaH Lock they could never make me hate you I don’t care if you were annoying, whiney and a coward, if I was you I would be annoying, whiney and a coward too… he’s just thirteen and he lost all his family, obviously he was too scared to go out of hiding, ANYONE would be scared, he was just a young boy and he lost everything. He found people who cared for him, but he lost the person who resembled his uncle and that’s really when his world fell apart. It must have felt like the whole world was against him, that Lock could never have any family ever again.
Like I can imagine he’d probably have this underlaying fear when it came to Choi Han and Rosalyn,
“what if I lose them too?”
Maybe he hated himself for being a coward, for hiding, for not doing anything… maybe he hated himself even more because when he lost Pendrick, he wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to stop cowering and hide when there’s danger. The battle between wanting to be cared for and protected because the world is just too much and wanting to fight back and help because he doesn’t want to lose anyone else
This just makes me think about TBoaH timeline more oh it’s so tragic and sickening I cried
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