#&& the apprentice [dustin]

[he11fireclubtm]

Finally on my laptop and now it's time to hurt all of y'alls feelings. Hunter!Dustin goes like this. He ended up travelling with my hunter!Eddie and Eddie didn't make it out of one of their hunts so Dustin was left all alone in the world to take up hunting on his own. He's a broken but feisty little thing. ;u; ]]

[theosconfessions]

meet teddie stephens

teddie is the son of blake and river and is their only child that they have together. almost immediately out of high school he enrolled in the navy and served his enlistment out..although he is no longer active duty he is still based in oasis springs... ...away from his parents which makes river want to cry.

teddie is 1/3 of the generation 3 kids that ill be focusing on soon <3 we still have a bit to go but rivers going to be talking about him a lot and hes gonna pop in soon so time to introduce him a bit more <3

facts about ted:3

currently an apprentice at a tattoo shop

has rivers heart,thankfully.. but has a completely sketch sidejob where he makes most of his money

this sidejob also causes him to travel quite frequently.

has 3 tattoos. two of a teddy bear and one of an anchor.

he has a closer relationship to river than he does blake....

he has nightmares. almost every night. and did for most of his childhood.

he is not close to his grandpa theo but he is to his grandpa dustin

we'll get more into ted as i incorporate his story into the stephens :)

[gloomysoup]

@steddieangstyaugust day 3 | prompt: "the sunset looks lovely, don't you think?" | rating: g | word count: 618 | tags: major character death, grief | ao3

sunsets and lemon blueberry cake

“The sunset looks lovely, don't you think?”

Eddie sat on the threadbare picnic blanket at the top of the hill. His voice was quiet, so as not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere. There was no response. He never expected one.

“It's been five years, you know,” he said to no one in particular. “Today, actually. I still find it kind of hard to believe.

Still, no reply. The wind blew gently through the trees, picking up a few of Eddie’s curls. He figured that was enough of an answer.

“Dustin called to check on me this morning. I told him I was fine. Robin called too, but I told her a little more of the truth. It's still hard. I woke up this morning thinking you'd be in the kitchen making coffee like you always used to. Obviously, you weren't.” Eddie sighed, watching the sun slowly sink lower on the horizon below. “Robin wanted to be here, but she's got this new PhD student on staff. Says he has a lot of potential, but needs a little more guidance. She couldn't get away from work to be here. She said she was sorry, but I told her it was fine. It is fine, though. I know she'd be here if she could. I told her you'd understand.”

Eddie took a deep breath and reached for the box he’d brought from the car. He opened it, pulling out a small cake. “I know it's silly, but I brought your cake. Tradition, right? I'm still not sure I'm really celebrating anything, but it didn't feel right not to bring one. Lemon blueberry, right? I still don't know how you eat this shit.”

A sad smile pulled at Eddie’s lips as he stared down at the cake. It was a small, circular cake. Not big at all, but he didn't need anything fancy. Most of it would probably get tossed anyway. It was simple. No words across the top. He wasn't sure what there was to say. This wasn't really an anniversary worth celebrating, especially one worth mentioning to the stranger at the bakery, but he always brought a cake anyway. Lemon blueberry. Steve's favorite.

“I didn't realize it until the other day, but I'm starting to forget your voice. I wish I had some way to remember. I miss it. I miss your laugh, too.”

The wind blew again, a little harder that time. If he listened hard enough, Eddie could almost hear it. Steve’s voice.

“I miss you a lot,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. “Every day. Some more than others. I wish you were here. Lucas’s little girl is almost three now. I know you would've loved to meet her. I'm supposed to leave in two weeks to visit. It won't quite line up with her birthday, but it's the closest I could get with work. Too many appointments, and I don't want to have to reschedule. The shop’s doing well, though. I've been thinking about taking on an apprentice, maybe adding a piercer or two. I don't know. I've never been very good at all the business stuff. Not like you.”

The sun was almost gone. Eddie sat in silence. The minutes stretched on. Eddie grabbed the plastic fork he'd brought, poking into the cake. He took a bite, wrinkled his nose, and took another. He never did understand what Steve liked about it. Maybe he never would. That wouldn't stop him from trying.

The stars began sparkling overhead, reds and oranges fading to blues and purples. Eddie sighed and closed the box, sealing the cake away. He looked to his left, smiling sadly at the tombstone that rested there.

“I love you,” he whispered. “Always.”

[cherryc1nnam0n]

I'm bored and I don't wanna write something so have this rant about the (fictional) men I love and why

Hello people

This is Cherry speaking and today I am presenting top men that I love and why are (most of them) them all serial killers who wear masks and are dead? We'll find out here

1. Brahms Heelshire

I mean just look at him, skrunkily wall boi who has never showered, the man with a mask that makes him look so fuckable and submissive and he fucking whines?! Ngh, so hot

I need to lick those man titties with all my might and ride him until his legs give out

But unlucky for me he's dead as fuck so yikes, he's not dead in my mind or in my blog

2. Billy Loomis

Crazy Ghostface boi who can rearrange my guts any time he wants and breed me all he wants mhm mhm

I fucking love Billy because look at him, he's a psychopath but he looks so hot while being it

Who wouldn't love this man??

But again, another one dead, killed by Sydney (fuck you Sydney), but not before leaving his offspring but we won't talk about that now

3. Eddie Munson

The exception to being a killer because he was framed it's my beautiful boi Eddie <3

I love this boi with all my heart and he can touch it with his dick all he wants <3

I fell in love with him when I saw him on Stranger Things 4 and I haven't since then <3

But my boi was eaten alive by a swarm of feral bats and bleed to death in Dustin's arms but he's still alive in my mind, and Tumblr's mind <3

4. Mark Hoffman

My crush from Saw since I watched the movies when I was 6

I have always loved older men for some reason so yeah (daddy issues)

He's not a good apprentice from John because he kills people and doesn't give them the chance of survival but I still love him <3

But as all of them, he was tied up on the original room from Saw and left to die there

It's presumed he's dead because people only survive 3 days without food so he's probably dead as fuck like all of them bois in this list

Still, he's still alive for me so he can breed me all he wants <3

5. Ethan Landry

Another Ghostface crazy boi who died a virgin (not in my mind if you know what I mean)

He was killed in an awful way but he's still hot and submissive and breedable and oh my gosh he's so hot

I am literally obsessed with him and you'll see my latest likes are all Ethan so yeah, fuck me (Ethan) I guess

6. Billy Hargrove

My asshole of a boyfriend who was too weak in spirit to fight off Vecna and died thanks to it

I love him <3

He's my favorite boi that can hit me and fuck me all he wants until I fry and he won't even stop by then so mmmmmhmmm

But again, ded as fuck lol

7. Hannibal Lecter

Cannibal daddy can eat me alive whenever he wants, I have excess skin so he can have all he wants mmmm

He's so pretty and sophisticated and so mmmm

I love him and he can eat me all he wants and breed me too

(I don't remember what happened to him if he died of not but yeah)

8. C!Technoblade

My pig boi who is a genocidal and an anarchist will always live rent free on my mind

(Along with his creator Alex, RIP Techno, we miss you a lot)

But on the DSMP I headcanon he had a lovely wife and two kids who loved him a lot and now they're alone and sad </3

But he's alive in my own AU so it's fine

I love my pig boi

9. Jim Hopper

I mean look at him, he screams DADDY in all his forms

I love hunks for some reason and he's one of them

He can have me whenever he wants

Only exception to being dead lol

Man titties

But anyways. That's everyone I can name off the top of my head so if you until here have a nice day and I love you <3

[florallylly]

ok fine i'm currently in a very bad place atm which means i've been consuming harry potter content practically against my will so. i will be sorting some stranger things characters into houses

eleven: chosen one sent to dismantle the system ???? gryffindor. arguably could consider hufflepuff bc loyalty but i think she more embodies a gryffindor.

mike: this one was tough bc i don't really like him (as a rule i don't fuck with adolescent boys they smell and get on my nerves. as a former math tutor i stand by that) gryffindor.

will: THAT BOY IS A HUFFLEPUFF !!! tbh mike asked the sorting hat to let them all be in the same house but the hat said </3 no thanks like will is plenty brave and could be a gryffindor but also it's toooo overstimulating for him.

lucas: hufflepuff..... like he's brave on behalf of his friends. he's brave but he also likes to keep his head down and not upset the norm. which is not bad at all like. that's just strategy. note how he joins the basketball team to try and balance out his friends' lameness

dustin: ravenclaw... need i say more....

max: torn... i could say gryffindor... i could say slytherin.... either way she would eat those bitches up. i think i'm more inclined to say slytherin just bc out of all of the party she's the wiliest. she has schemes brewing. also could make sense with eleven being distrustful of her at first and the gryffindor/slytherin rivalry idk idk

jonathan: ...hufflepuff...

nancy: ravenclaw good NIGHT! i fear these two just feel so obvious to me and i don't care to elaborate !

steve: CONTROVERSIAL TAKE..... hufflepuff. he's so cedric diggory to me. like i made this steak for u mama .... he's plenty brave and plenty reckless but he also knows the value of constance. his goal isn't to adventure, it's to excel in the norms of what he does. also he likes how docile the house seems to the general populace like. the badger bites ... you just don't expect it. slytherin was considered but he doesn't want to LOOK sneaky he wants to be sneaky and get away with it.

robin: ravenclaw. why was she studying for no reason like. NERD!!!!! ur reading books for fun? ur literate? couldn't be me EVER

.... eddie: gryffindor. "i'm not a hero/i'm a coward" blah blah blah. reckless. ur a gryffindor. u literally walk on lunch tables for fun.

almost forgot argyle but he's actually hagrid's apprentice or some bullshit bc he grows weed in the greenhouses (hufflepuff)

[ladykailitha]

Royal Pain Part 8

Hello! I don’t know if it’s that it’s summer or what, but I’ve seen a sharp decline on my stories, so I just wanted to check and make sure everyone was okay. Take care of yourselves.

The hunt for the new apprentices start, they make room, and Eddie and Steve talk the design for the tattoo.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

***

Steve got the biggest, most caffeinated drink on the menu and had downed half of it before he pulled up to Erica’s apartment complex. He put his in the cupholder and then grabbed the tray with Robin and Erica’s coffees plus breakfast.

He trotted up the stairs to Erica’s apartment and knocked on the door. Erica answered the door groggily. She spotted coffee first and grabbed it out his grasp.

Robin took her coffee gratefully from Erica as Steve pulled out their breakfast.

“Bacon, egg, and cheddar on an English muffin for Robin,” he said handing to her. “Fruit salad with whip cream for me and a sausage, egg, and Swiss on a croissant for Erica.”

Again Erica made grabby hands at Steve, who handed it to her.

Once they were fed and on their way, Erica asked, “So what’s all this about anyway?”

Steve looked at her through the rearview mirror. “I’m thinking of taking on a couple of apprentices at the shop so I can focus on doing a large back tattoo.”

“Suzie was telling the truth?” Erica gasped. “Holy shit. I thought she was making shit up. Because there was no way you are cool enough to do a back tattoo for Eddie Munson.”

Steve turned around and glared at her.

Robin smacked him. “Turn around and drive, dingus. I would rather not die today, thanks.”

Erica stuck her tongue at him and he tapped the breaks to get back at her.

“You should let me apprentice for you,” she said as they pulled up to Will’s apartment building. “I have the steadiest hands, from all those years painting tiny ass figures for D&D.”

Steve sighed. “I was hoping to find people who have already started working toward being a tattoo artist, but failing that, I guess I could teach you.”

He got out of the car and leaned back in. “I swear to god, if either of you touch my coffee, you’ll be walking home from here.”

He slammed the door.

“How serious do you think he was?” Erica asked, eyeing the caffeinated beverage with want.

“Don’t try it,” Robin warned her. “The last time someone messed with his coffee, he drove them to the complete other side of town and told them they could find their own way home.”

“Who was this?” Erica asked, rolling her eyes. “Mike?”

Robin twisted in her seat to look Erica in the eye. “Dustin.”

Erica looked at the coffee in the cup holder and then nodded. “Right. No touching the coffee.”

“Smart girl.”

Will and Steve came out moments later, so there wasn’t really time to mess with the coffee, anyway.

“Erica,” Steve said after opening the door again. “We’re going to divide and conquer. You’re going to go with Will to the colleges and shit. Robin and I are going to hit up the bars and clubs. We’ll meet at Nicki’s Diner for lunch in about three or so hours.”

Erica saluted and got out of the car to go with Will. “Roger, roger!”

Steve put his stack of fliers on the back seat and got into his car. He waved at Will and Erica and then drove off.

They had made a list Sunday night and started at one end of town and worked their way through asking if they could put up their flier. At some of the trendier bars and clubs they got turned down, but most of them let them put it up on their community boards.

They are both tired and hungry by the time they make it to Nicki’s to meet up with Will and Erica.

“We managed to put up every flier we had,” Erica said proudly.

“Yeah,” Will said, “I even had to print out ten more to hand out.”

Steve and Robin shared a glance.

“Wait, really?” Steve asked. “Robin and me barely got through our stack.”

Will nodded. “I’m so happy you’re doing this. I’ve been telling you for the last year to get more people in your shop.”

Steve sighed, pulling up the menu to look it over. “I know. I’m actually really excited about this. I probably won’t get more than a couple applicants but even if it’s just me training someone how to tattoo, they can at least do initial sessions of talking out ideas and shit for the clients that will take more than one session. Or even start offering henna that they could practice with in the mean time.”

“Me and my friends do henna all the time,” Erica said. “It’s fun trying to find colors that show up on darker skin tones.”

Steve straightened up. “Oh. Now that’s an idea. Jeff was telling me that it was hard to find a tattoo artist that could do dark skin, because a lot of artists forget that black on black doesn’t show up.” He looked at her and rubbed his lip thoughtfully.

“Would you be willing to do henna at my shop?” he asked. “I’d be able to pay you.”

Erica and Robin shared a glance.

“Does this mean you won’t teach me how to tattoo?” she asked, eyeing him sidelong.

Steve shook his head. “If you want to learn, I’ll teach you. I just don’t want this to be a fun summer thing for you and then when you go back to school in the fall, you never pick up a tattoo gun ever again.”

Erica paused. “Oh. I see what you mean.” She thought about it for a moment before she nodded. “For this summer at least, I’ll stick to the henna and if after this summer is over, I can pick whether to go back to school or stay with you and train to be tattoo artist.”

Steve stuck out his hand and she shook it.

He paid for all their lunch as thank you for helping him put up the fliers.

*

They spent the rest of the day clearing out the other rooms that would be used for the new artists. They got the chairs set up and them set up to take clients. Most of the stuff was already there, just waiting for Steve to make the decision to hire more people.

They took to cleaning and decorating the rooms to match the rest of the of shop.

They ended up ordering pizza and continued to work until late at night. Finally it was all done. This was the easy part. The hard part was waiting to see if anyone would answer the flier. Or their online messages.

Steve took the younger adults home and then practically crawled up the stairs to the apartment with Robin.

“You know this is entirely your fault,” she said, totally devoid of sympathy. “You didn’t have to spend all night talking to Eddie. You could have stopped at any time and actually got some sleep.”

Steve didn’t even bother rolling his eyes he was that tired. “Just let me die in peace, please.”

Robin pushed him in the direction of their bathroom. “Take a shower at least, dude. And then crash. You’ll thank me and yourself in the morning.”

Steve nodded, already swaying on his feet. He got into the shower and let the heat wash over of his tired, aching body and sighed in relief. He carefully washed his hair, but only did a perfunctory scrub down of his body.

He got out and smiled when he saw that Robin had placed his pajamas in there while he was showering. He pulled on the clothes she set out for him and padded back out to their apartment in bare feet.

“Feel better?” Robin asked from their sofa.

Steve sighed. “Yeah, yeah. It has long been established that you are smarter than me.”

“Hell, yeah,” she said with a grin. “Now go to bed before you pass out on the carpet.”

Steve nodded and went to do as he was told.

He slept deeply for the first time in a long time.  

*

Steve tried not to let his anticipation get to him as he worked on other tattoos, waiting for Eddie to come in. He was pretty sure he failed judging from the smirk on Robin’s face when Eddie finally arrived.

“Hey, Eds!” he greeted cheerfully. “We’ll go over some ideas I had and I can start laying the ground work for those wings of yours.”

Eddie grinned. “I can’t wait to see what you have for me, big boy!”

Robin raised an eyebrow at the pet name, but wisely said nothing as Steve led Eddie back to Steve’s work station.

“I saw the other rooms were opened,” Eddie said as he took a seat. “You’re really serious about the getting more people in here to work for you, huh?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, I’m a little nervous, but mostly? I’m hella excited.”

Eddie smiled fondly at him. “Certainly sounds like it. Show me what you got.” He made grabby hands at the drawing book Steve had picked up.

“You have any ideas of your own that you’d want to do or thoughts on what you think it should look like?” Steve asked flipping to the start of his ideas for Eddie’s tattoo.

He shook his head. “Not really, other than size. I want them all the way down my back.”

Steve nodded again. “I wasn’t sure, so there are a couple of wings that are just on the shoulder blades. You can ignore those.”

Eddie was looking at the different styles of wings and inward facing verses outward facing when a small piece of paper fluttered out of the book on the floor. He bent over to pick it and was opening it when Steve snatched it out his hand.

“Um...” Steve said. “That’s not really anything, just a stupid idea I had after listening to you talking to Dustin on Sunday.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side. “Come on, I want to see it. I promise not to laugh or poke fun.”

Steve held to his chest for a moment and then handed the paper back to Eddie, heart in hand.

Eddie opened the paper up and there was a close to accurate rendition of his back with a pair of leathery bat wings, just like a lot of the designs in the drawing book. But in the middle of the two wings along the spine was a sword. It was a one-handed sword with a wavy blade that started at the base of the spine with the hilt and went all the way up to the nape of the neck with the point. The cross guard was in the shape of a bat and it was black.

It was beautiful.

“Holy fuck, Stevie,” Eddie said, breathless. “What is this?”

Steve blushed. “It’s the sword of Kas.I was thinking on one side of the blade have it say bloody-handed crossed out and then other side have it say betrayer.”

“This.” Eddie tapped the paper. “I want this. All of this. Including what you just said about the words. I want it.”

Steve’s jaw dropped and then he gulped. “It’s going to cost an awful lot. Like more then you were probably planning on spending, though.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Sweetheart, I’ve been saving up for this tattoo for years. I have roughly four thousand saved up. I don’t think it’s going to be the problem you think it will.”

Steve gently took back the paper. “You really want to do this?”

“Yeah, I really, really do,” Eddie said, smiling up at him.

A slow, sweet smile blossomed on Steve’s face. “All right. Let me scan this so I can print out the stencils and we’ll get started.”

“I can’t hardly wait.”

***

Part 9 Part 10  Part 11 Part 12  Part 13 Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18 Part 19  Part 20  Part 21   Part 22  Part 23  Part 24  Part 25 Part 26  Part 27  Part 28  Epilogue

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[penny00dreadful]

Part 4

[Part 1] [Part 3] [Part 5] [AO3] [Cover Art] [Eddie&Chrissy Art]

“Opinions?” Steve asked, feeling the familiar presence of his own Captain of the Guard at his back. A presence who'd never put his hands unnecessarily and so cruelly on someone just because they shoved someone else.

Hopper might be a gruff and cranky old fart but he wasn't a malicious man.

The ease at which the Stoirmeach Captain resorted to such violence after what could arguably be called a small slight, the nonchalance and hate he had shown towards Eddie, who was supposed to be Chrissy’s closest confidant, her best friend, her advisor, all of which should have given him a level of protection against what had happened… Steve could tell it set Hopper’s teeth on edge. 

And Steve figured he wouldn’t be letting that edge go any time soon.

Probably not until they were safe and sound back in their own kingdom.

Even if someone back in Torthúil had shoved Steve in anger or hate, the most they would have received would have been a cuff around the back of the head.

Hell, if Hopper went after anyone who'd ever shoved Steve, Robin, Dustin, Mike and Erica would have had permanent residences in Torthúil’s dungeons.

The very thought sent a shiver through him.

They didn't really use their dungeons.

Unless Steve was to count holding wine and ale and cheese captive.

Which he didn't.

Because he and Robin had pilfered freely of the first two in his youth which then led to a pilfering of the third with Argyle, the herbalist and Jonathan, the apprentice painter.

“That Sullivan fella’s got one hell of a stick up his ass.” Hopper grumbled back as Steve took count again of all of the gifts they had brought from home to present to Stoirmeach’s court. “And that Munson character is not very popular.”

Robin snorted humorlessly from her position inside the wagon. “Yeah, no shit.”

Hopper just continued to scowl. “Apparently the princess has never demanded anything as ferociously as she had demanded that Eddie be allowed to stay in the kingdom as her advisor. It was a very unpopular move but she refused to budge on it. Some think he seduced or blackmailed her into it. Others rather… uncharitably think she’s keeping him around as a… a bedmate.”

Despite the sheer ridiculousness of the statement, Steve couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder at Hopper, watching him turn his red face away, trying to keep his words as respectable as possible. 

“Did you find anything out about why they were so aggressive? Had he done something else to piss them off?” Steve asked. “And what did they call him? Outsider? Tree dweller?”

“What the hell even is a tree dweller?” Robin muttered back.

“Someone who dwells in trees?” Steve shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Sinclair was talking to a few of the grunts on Stoirmeach’s side and according to them he’s just an all around troublemaker.” Hopper had his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. “Just does things to be a nuisance. Which sounds a whole lot like—”

“Bullshit.” Steve pushed in with raised eyebrows.

“You think so?” Robin was attempting to crawl her way out of the covered wagon and Steve offered her a hand down.

Steve shrugged. “All I’ve seen him do so far is look out for Chrissy. He might be going about it in a bit of an unorthodox manner, but his heart seems to be in the right place.” He squeezed his fingers around Robins. “Would you not do the same for me?”

She immediately opened her mouth to deny it, but she stopped, slowly sealing her lips back together with a frown.

“Doesn’t mean I have to like his attitude.” She grumbled after a few moments of silence. 

“You don’t, but it also doesn’t mean you’d attack him for it.”

Robin just shrugged. She probably didn’t have many qualms about attacking Eddie but unlike the soldiers, her attacking would have just amounted to hair-pulling and rib-jabbing. 

Steve turned back to the inventory in the wagon with a little smirk, silently delighted he’d been able to catch her out.

He wanted to make a good impression. He wanted to make sure their kingdom knew that their princess Chrissy would be well looked after.

But based on what they all just witnessed, he wasn’t so sure anymore whether they’d give a fuck whether Chrissy was taken care of or not, or if they just wanted her married off.

Either way, the gifts were here now and if they helped ingratiate him into the kingdom, maybe he could try to make everyone’s life there easier. 

Himself, Robin, Chrissy… even Eddie.

There was apprehension crawling around him, thinking about what might be awaiting them all once they got there.

Was he going to be forced to witness more brutality?

God, he hoped not.

He was only a week out on his journey. He had over a month left. And he already wanted to go home.

He sighed, pulling himself back out of the wagon and leaned himself against it, casting his eyes around.

He hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Chrissy or Eddie since the incident had happened and based on the shouts of laughter and boisterous storytelling coming from the Stoirmeach guard, bragging to his staff, no one else had seen the two either. 

Things were still a little tense. Steve’s side of the camp had been shaken by the brutality and were no longer sure about how to act around Chrissy’s side who had taken it all in stride.

But hopefully, with time, things would become easier. And hopefully Steve could prevent an incident like that happening again.

Either way, it was up to him to make things better, to make this marriage work. Being a crown prince certainly had its advantages, but there was an awful lot of responsibility on his shoulders at all times too.

And he did feel responsible for what had happened. He knew Robin would tell him that it wasn’t his fault but still.

 Pushing himself back to standing, he took the short few muddy steps towards the tent Eddie and Chrissy had disappeared behind.

Now that he was standing in front of the closed tent flap, he found himself wishing for a closed door instead. 

At least with a closed door he could knock. 

What was he supposed to do here?

Rolling his shoulders back and holding his head high, Steve attempted to punch out a strong and authoritative clearing of his throat.

Instead what he got was a very awkward clearing of his throat, left shuffling foot to foot as the sounds from inside died down the second he had made his presence known.

The black flap acting as a door was pulled back and Eddie’s expression quickly morphed from waryness to surprise when he saw who it was and then straight down to irritation. 

It appeared to just be him. No Chrissy in sight.

“What do you want?”

He was holding the arm that had been grabbed and twisted a little awkwardly at his side, held in close and gingerly, his body angling it away, while the other arm held the tent flap open slightly above him. There was an intoxicating smell gently drifting over the air, something spicy and warm and a little peppery. It was a scent he had never smelled before.

Steve was left kinda just… staring.

It was the first time he’d gotten a good look at Eddie when he wasn’t shrouded in darkness, snapping at him or getting manhandled for the capital offence of looking after his best friend. 

He was all darkness and light. Dark brown curls spilling around his shoulders, one half pulled back in a braid tight against the side of his head showing off a delicate curling vine of green leaves inked into his skin, crawling up from under the collar of his leather doublet, stopping just behind his ear. An ear that was pierced through with various silver studs and rings.

His eyes were deep and dark, enormous and even though they were squinted with suspicion, Steve thought he could lose a sizable amount of time staring into them, trying to catalogue every shifting colour. 

His skin was so pale, Steve might have thought he was unwell but something about it told him that that was just Eddie. It allowed his curls, his eyes, the ink on his skin and the dusty pink of his lips to stand out even more, sucking Steve’s gaze in, enthralling him. 

The dark, almost black colour of his leathers stood out as well and Steve could just about make out some embroidered forest designs along the hems, dark green in colour again and a little shakily applied.

Eddie had his skinny, bony, long fingers adorned with silver rings, there were chains hanging around his neck and from his belts, a small black handkerchief of some kind tucked into the belt around his waist at the back.

Eddie was…

Eddie was kinda really pretty.

Steve felt almost overdressed in his laced hems, brightly coloured embroidery and billowing sleeves.  He’d removed his cape and crown for the evening, but even so, he felt like he was posturing.

“Has your mouth ceased to function, Your Highness?”

Steve snapped his eyes back from where they had settled again on those long, skinny fingers, pressed into the fabric of the tent.

Eddie had an eyebrow cocked at him, almost challenging him to bite back, to get offended at the snark or snap in anger. 

Steve decided then and there he was going to do everything within his power to assure Eddie that he wasn’t the kind of royalty he seemed to think he was.

“Lord Munson-”

“Well that’s a first.” Eddie snorted, his lip curling in a sneer and he leaned forward a little, trying to punch his next words into Steve as much as possible. “I am untitled.”

Steve blinked.

Well… it wasn’t like he hadn’t heard of such a thing before. True that most people in the household of royalty would be titled themselves or a close relation to the royal member in question. Lucas wouldn’t have had such an easy journey entering into Hopper's service if his father wasn’t a Lord and friends with Hopper. But Torthúil didn’t have such things as a rule.

Robin wasn’t titled either.

“Okay. Mr. Munson-”

Eddie’s eyes had widened slightly but he still opened his mouth and Steve, remembering how he had introduced himself earlier, quickly corrected himself. 

“Forgive me. Eddie.” He took a steadying breath in. “I just wanted to come check on you. To see if you were doing okay after…” He waved his hand around, a little awkwardly. “Everything. And I wanted to apologise as well.”

“Ap- apologise?” Eddie’s remaining snark had now melted away to complete bewilderment.

“Yeah. I’m sorry you were subjected to that, I didn’t know your guards would be so…”

“Eager?” Eddie removed his hand from the tent flap, instead leaning his body against the supporting pole. He raised his arms as though he was going to cross them but his mouth tightened when he moved the arm that had been grabbed, so he seemed to just settle on letting that arm hang while he rested the other against his hip.

Steve grimaced to himself. Eager was certainly a word for it. 

“Listen, Highness—”

“Steve.”

Eddie’s mouth hung open, frozen from where it had been when he was interrupted and he just stared for a moment.

“Steve.” He said, rolling the sound around on his tongue, seeing if he liked how it tasted.

Steve felt the corner of his lip tilt up, satisfied.

“Steve.” Eddie looked at him with determination. “Don’t get me wrong, I still don’t know whether I like you or not, but you didn’t put your hands on me, did you?”

“Well no but—”

“Then what are you apologising for?”

“I… I’m still sorry that it happened because of me. It shouldn’t have.”

“No, it shouldn’t have.” Eddie agreed, but still raised his good arm to wave Steve off. “But it’s nothing I’m not used to. Don’t worry your pretty little princely head about it.”

“You shouldn’t have to be used to it.”

He was met with an eyeroll and a few muttered words that sounded distinctly like just like Chris. 

“Sun’s setting, Stevie. Best get back to your people before they start whispering about me casting spells on you.”

Steve looked over his shoulder to find both sides quickly averting their eyes, doing a very bad job of hiding the fact that everyone was watching their interaction. The only person who continued to look on unashamed was Robin.

When he looked back, Eddie had already dropped the curtain, separating the two of them again and effectively ending their conversation.

Steve was stuck ruminating on the whole interaction for the rest of the evening, into the night as he and Robin got settled into their compartments.

They had originally been roomed separately but that simply would do. They had insisted on it and wouldn’t budge until Robin's bed was brought into Steve’s room.

While their side took it in stride and accepted it as standard because it was standard, Chrissy’s side initially looked appalled, as though Steve had just planted a kiss on Hopper in front of all of them.

But Steve and Robin got their way eventually, while Chrissy looked on, slightly amazed, like she hadn’t even known it was an option. 

Steve and Robin pushed their provided luxurious beds closer together so they could gossip at a lower volume, wary of being overheard with nothing but fabric, Hopper and his soldiers standing between them the wilds, and the Stoirmeach retinue.

“Does it strike you as odd that the Stoirmeach side just seems to… ignore Chrissy?” Steve whispered to her. “Or at least they don’t really pay her much mind.”

“It is very strange.” Robin muttered back, tucking her hands up underneath her pillow. “But things are different for women.”

Steve mirrored her position. “Not different enough to ignore their crown princess, surely.”

“No, not that different.”

“What do you think of her?”

Robin sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, chewing on it for a moment before letting it free.

“I’m not really sure. I haven’t seen much of her. Does it sound terrible to say she’s a little like a flower not getting enough sun?”

Steve frowned before shaking his head as much as he could from his position. “We’ll give her all the sunshine she needs back home.”

Robin hummed, hesitating for a moment.

Steve let her, waiting to hear what else she had to say.

“She’s very pretty.”

Steve raised his eyebrows a little. Yeah, Chrissy was pretty. She was tiny with big blue eyes and long flowing blonde hair pulled away from her face with two braids ending with a bow at the back of her head. Her blue gown wasn’t as intricately decorated as Steve’s, Robin’s or even Eddie’s clothes but it fit her well, adding to her delicacy.

Steve was surprised to find himself thinking of Eddie again. When he thought of pretty, he thought of him.

He shoved the thought far out of his head, instead choosing to focus on Robin and how her cheeks were pinking up ever so slightly, bringing out her freckles the way her blush always did. 

She was always weak for any pretty girl.

“Hopefully,” Robin sighed, breaking Steve away from his thoughts. “Hopefully what happened with Eddie today is just a one off. The excitement of the whole thing.” It was clear to Steve she was trying to find some kind of positive, but she wasn’t quite buying her own words. “Maybe things will be better once we get to Stoirmeach.”

Steve only nodded.

He had a lot of other hopes aside from never having to see Eddie get treated so brutally again. 

Top of his list was that even if he and Chrissy never ended up on the romantic side of love, maybe they could be good partners, good rulers together. Good friends.

It was the best he could hope for, really. 

The journey back to Stoirmeach was simultaneously too long a trek and too short.

Steve was desperate to sleep in a real bed again, to be surrounded by actual walls and an actual roof, to stand in front of a fireplace and to be able to wash in more privacy than a tent provided.

But he also felt he was going to miss the mealtimes with Chrissy, more intimate than a standard dining room fair by virtue of them being out in the woods.

As heavily observed as they were and as public all of their conversations were, sitting around a small table with her, only able to squeeze in four chairs maximum—a much a tighter fit than the sprawling and opulent dining tables and banquet tables Steve had to compare to—it reminded Steve of his evenings down in the kitchens with the kids, Claudia and Joyce.

They never ate alone together, Robin was always seated to his right and Eddie was always seated to Chrissy’s right.

Which, of course, meant that Eddie was always next to him too, Chrissy directly across from him and conversation flowed surprisingly easy between the four of them.

They didn’t speak about anything personal, anything private or risky. They steered clear of discussing the incident that had happened when Steve and Robin first arrived, preferring instead to stick to safer topics such as their favourite colours or their favourite time of day.

Nothing so bad as that incident had happened again and Steve wasn’t sure if the Stoirmeach guards just hadn’t been in a foul enough mood to lash out or if they were holding themselves back based on his own less than favourable response to it.

Still, he, Robin, Hopper and surprisingly enough, Lucas kept a very close eye on the guards whenever Eddie was around, just in case Steve needed to step in again and use his status to keep Eddie’s head from being ripped off.

It became clearer as the days went on that the Stoirmeach guards didn’t just dislike Eddie, they hated him.

For what reason, Steve had no idea but when Eddie smiled at Chrissy or reached a hand out to reassure her, Steve couldn’t fathom a single thing Eddie could have done to receive so much ire. 

Lucas had taken a bit of a shine to him as well, though as their travels went on, Steve found himself less and less surprised by it.

Eddie had initially been wary of him. Anyone dressed in armour of any kind seemed to have his hackles raised and Steve had been ready to jump in the middle if Eddie so much as looked at Lucas wrong.

But he needn’t have worried. 

Once Eddie had come to realise that Lucas was not going to attack out of nowhere and instead was gushing questions about Eddie’s inked skin and how curious his friend back home, Dustin, was to learn about it and how it worked, the door had been opened and Steve didn’t think it would ever close.

Steve was a little worried that Lucas was going to arrive back in Torthúil after the month was over with his skin covered with inked in designs but at the same time, he wasn’t Lady Sinclaire, he wasn’t Captain Hopper. He couldn’t tell Lucas what he could and couldn’t do. 

He could just look on disapprovingly with his arms crossed if it came down to it.

Though he didn’t seem to be the only one in the camp with disapproving thoughts on his mind. 

Though he had… smoothed over things with Eddie as much as he could where the incident was concerned, Chrissy’s advisor seemed to be a prickly guy.

Steve thought that he’d probably never be considered good enough for Chrissy’s hand in Eddie’s eyes but he couldn’t exactly say he didn’t understand it.

If some foreign royal had come to snatch up Robin into an arranged marriage, he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to find them worthy, even if they were the softest person in existence.

But Eddie seemed to find things to glare at Steve about.

When Steve methodically cleaned mud and dirt from his boots, he got a glare.

When Steve sat with Lucas and Robin, smiling along with them over whatever shenanigans they had decided to reminisce over, Eddie studied him like he was trying to read his mind with a critical eye.

When Steve donned his crown and cape again as the shape of a castle appeared on the horizon far off in the distance, signalling their imminent arrival, Eddie shot him a dirty look.

The guy clearly had some hangups and some preconceived notions that he was refusing to let go of, but Steve didn’t let himself get too bothered by it.

Eddie could think what he wanted about him. He wasn’t going to beg for his approval but also wasn’t going to treat him like shit just because he didn’t bow and scrape at the sight of him.

He actually liked that about Eddie.

Bowing and scraping wasn’t something he was used to. 

The royals back in Torthúil just… didn’t engender that kind of higher-than-their-fellow-man type of feeling. 

And he liked it that way. 

But Steve was left to wonder as the castle loomed ever closer and the town walls rose up to meet it, whether that would be the same here.

He knew the chances were slim.

He wasn’t ignorant to how the rest of the world worked but they weren’t the only kingdom with such a system.

The carriage window was slightly cracked and through the crack he could smell the sea air, hear the sounds of angry crashing waves against the high cliff the castle–his home for the next month–sat on.

There were grey clouds hanging low above and the first smattering of rain against the window glass.

Mingled up in the sea air was the smell of fish and sheep shit, the quick and cutting wind carrying it easily from the beaches down below and the craggy mountain fields.

He reached blindly for Robin’s hand, not taking his eyes away from the window.

She gave his fingers a little squeeze and not for the first time Steve was unimaginably grateful that he had her there with him.

As they passed through the large, slightly rotted wood and metal gate at the entrance to the town, the rain began to fall harder.

Steve had expected to see people going about their business, despite the weather. Things needed to be done, rain or shine after all. But as they bounced down the narrow grey cobblestoned streets towards the looming castle, high up on its cliff, Steve could see… almost nobody.

In fact, the only people he did see were soldiers standing at street entrances and alleyways, clad in dark steel, black and red, watching the caravan pass by silently.

Every so often one of the guards would look behind them, glaring down the alley and Steve had the uncomfortable realisation that they were keeping the townsfolk back there, out of the way of the carriages and wagons and while it did mean that their journey was much quicker, it felt… wrong.

He really, really didn’t like the idea that Stoirmeach’s people were being pushed out of the way for him. Some foreign prince. 

Steve tore his eyes away from the window to send a glance Robin’s way and found her doing the same, the two of them sharing a silent what the fuck communication before they turned back to their respective windows.

He would have loved to see Chrissy or Eddie at that point. He would have loved to see how they reacted to all of this, or if they had any reaction at all. Maybe this was all normal to them.

But they weren’t travelling in a carriage like Steve and Robin, they were in a great wooden wheelhouse, generously outfitted but with tiny windows near the top, almost like prisoner transportation.

They found Steve’s carriage strange and he found their wheelhouse strange.

He supposed it wouldn’t be the last strange difference between them.

The town was at an incline, the castle sitting above the streets below and Steve got the impression everything in the town would be visible from the battlements or even from the windows.

Wide stone steps curved down from the entrance, flaring out on either side and lined up in formation along the edges seemed to be every member of staff that the Cunninghams employed in the castle, all standing stock still, hands folded in front or behind them, watching them.

He thought it was supposed to be intended as some kind of greeting or maybe even a display of wealth but Steve just felt uncomfortable all over again looking at all of these people forced to stand out in the rain.

Steve and Robin’s carriage came to a halt in front of the steps and with only a moment's hesitation—he couldn’t make the staff stand outside for any longer than they needed to—he pushed the door open and stepped out.

He cast an eye around at the staff and immediately took notice of two people very conspicuously missing.

The king and queen were nowhere in sight.

Steve watched as the rest of the caravan gradually ascended the incline after him and he felt himself wanting to fuss over the gifts he had brought, wanting to make sure they were all presentable and had made it here in one piece but his attention was diverted as Chrissy’s wheelhouse came to a stop behind their carriage and both she and Eddie stepped out.

They stared up at the imposing grey, weathered castle like they were heading to the gallows. It was like a weight had settled back on their shoulders and they were bowing under the pressure. 

Behind him, his people started to get his gifts organised to present to the king and queen and Steve was left with nothing to do but to wonder if he was going to have to find his own way to the Great Hall to be received by them.

Chrissy and Eddie appeared at his side, unusually silent and stony faced. 

Chrissy took his arm with a strained smile and for all the animosity that Robin and Eddie had shown each other, he stood on her side, almost as if to bolster her for the trek into the castle.

With a slight tug, she began to lead Steve up the steps and into the castle and Steve supposed there was no use hesitating. He was in this now and he needed to see it through to the end.

His kingdom was relying on him. He needed this to be a success. He wanted to get Chrissy out, he didn’t like the weight hanging over her and Eddie, it felt like they were being slowly suffocated.

He wanted to bring the two of them home. He just had to get through this month and all would be well.

With Chrissy on his arm, Robin by his side and Eddie next to her, Steve took the first step up the stone stairs.

[Part 1] [Part 3] [Part 5] [AO3] [Cover Art] [Eddie&Chrissy Art]

As always, major thanks and much love to @hbyrde36 for the magnificent beta work, @arelliann for their beautiful artwork, dividers and header, and to all my cheerleaders helping to keep me motivated. 🥰

[foundtherightwords]

The Minstrel, the Maiden, and the Knights of Hellfire - Chapter 13

Pairing: Hellcheer, Medieval AU

Summary: England, 1139: the civil war between King Stephen and Empress Maud looms large, threatening to tear the country in half. For Ed and his band of traveling minstrels, however, the more pressing matter is how to survive the upcoming winter, now that they were tossed out by their latest patron. When they stumble upon a naïve pageboy looking for warriors to escort the lady Christiana to safe haven in Wales, Ed comes up with a daring plan - pose as knights, take the job, and collect the reward. After all, how hard can it be? What Ed doesn't count on is endless battles, treacherous roads, marauding bandits, Lady Christiana's pompous fiancé, and his own growing attraction to the fair maiden herself...

Chapter warning: some violence at the very end

Chapter word count: 5.7k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Wain insisted on giving them some food for the journey. Ed was loath to deplete his uncle's already meager larder, but Wain wouldn't hear of any protest. Dustin and Maxime decided to leave Christiana's scrip with Wain, agreeing that it would be too risky to lug around jewels and coins while they were going into a very den of thieves. If they found Christiana—when they found her—they could come back for it.

Although it was late, they set out to cross the river that same evening. Luckily, they caught the ferryman on his last trip, and some generous coins pressed into his palm ensured that he took them across the landing in silence, without any question of who they were or what they were about that they had to cross the river in such haste. On the other side, Ed led them by memory to the spot on the riverbank where he'd lost the trail. He had hoped that once they'd crossed the river, he could pick up the trail again, but again, he was at a loss. The woods grew so close and thick here that the horse left no trace on the ground, and there was no telling where Vecna could have taken Christiana.

"Are you quite certain they've gone toward the Clees?" asked Geoff.

"I don't know," Ed admitted, feeling his hope drain away as he looked into the gloomy woods.

It was getting dark. An indifferent gibbous moon rose in the east, casting her cold gray light over the trees, making a filigree out of the leafless branches.

"Perhaps we should make camp," Tadhg said. "Start searching in the morning."

At that moment, Maxime cried out, "Over here!" She pointed to a thorn bush. "There's something—look."

Ed looked and saw, in the moonlight, something white and light like thistledown clinging to the thorns. He picked up the soft fluff and rubbed it between his fingers, feeling the hint of a quill there. Down it was, but it did not come from a thistle. It was swan down. Like the trim on Christiana's cloak.

"This was Christiana," he said. "She was leaving me a trail." Like the apprentice leaving a trail of goose down from the princess's bedroom to the underground palace.

"How do you know?" Geoff bent down to look at the fluff, squinting skeptically in the pale moonlight. "It could be from a bird."

"I just—know," Ed said lamely, unable to explain the absolute conviction he was feeling.

"Lady Christiana does have a cloak trimmed with swan down," said Maxime.

"There's more over here," said Dustin, going further down the path. "That's too much to be from any bird, unless the bird is badly injured, and I see no blood on these feathers."

There was no more talk of setting up camp. Leading Warlock and the wagon, they followed the feathers, which glowed silvery white under the moon like a trail of will-o'-the-wisps through the woods. Ed gave a silent prayer of gratitude to the wind for staying still and to the moon for shining bright, illuminating their way. They encountered no one. None in their right mind would venture into the woods at this late hour, and the bandits must be lying low to avoid the avenging forces of Lord Beaumont of Worcester, and for that Ed was grateful. He was also grateful to see that his friends were as determined to find Christiana as he was, and even Gareth had ceased his usual griping and moaning.  

Even after the moon had set, they refused to stop. They lit a lantern from the wagon and continued the search, though it was much harder to pick out the clumps of white feathers dotted here and there amongst the undergrowth by its fitful light. Ed's eyes grew tired and hot from staring into the murkiness for too long, and his legs were heavy with cold and fatigue. He glanced at his friends. They were dutifully searching, but he could tell they were getting tired as well. They hadn't even had the luxury of a three days' rest, like he had.

"You should stay and rest," he told them. "I can go on by myself."

"No, we shouldn't," Geoff grumbled. "Not when they had half a day's head start. And you bloody can't. How are you going to face all those villains on your own?"

"We're the Knights of Hellfire, Ed," said Gareth behind him. "We do this together."

Ed's throat closed up with a sudden surge of emotion, so he couldn't say what he wanted to say and had to settle for clasping their arms to show his appreciation.

They were closer to the hills now, and the feathers were becoming scarcer and scarcer, as though Christiana had run out. It was something Ed hadn't thought of—suppose she ran out of feathers before Vecna and his men reached their destination? Even now, sometimes they would go yards without seeing a single feather, and Ed's heart would sink, afraid the trail had been blown off or they had taken a wrong turn somewhere. But always, the feathers would show up again, shining like small but constant beacons, and they would resume their search with renewed hope.

When dawn broke over the hills, they encountered a new obstacle—snow had started to fall, the first snow of winter. Though the snow was light, it was nigh impossible to tell the feathers from the icy flakes, and the muted gray light of dawn didn't help either. Without a word to each other, Ed and his friends sat down amongst the rocks, too exhausted to go on, while the snow swirled around them and the cold settled into their bones.

"Where are you, Christiana?" Ed whispered. He couldn't have lost her, not now, not when Christiana had been so clever. She knew he would be coming after her; otherwise, she wouldn't have torn her own cloak to leave a trail for him. He could still feel her now, her arms around him, her lips on his. She was counting on him to rescue her. He couldn't let her down, not when he had been such a coward, a fool, a weakling...

Ed put his head in his hands. As he did so, his eyes fell on something rippling under a rock by his feet. He picked it up. It was a ribbon, bright blue like Christiana's eyes. He had seen it, many times, fluttering at the end of her braid. At the sight of it, the cold that had been seeping into his body and heart vanished, to be replaced by the warm spark of resolve.

Clutching the ribbon in his palm, he looked up at the formidable peak of Titterstone Clee and remembered all the stories he'd heard about it in his childhood. Although Brown Clee Hill, lying five miles north of it, was taller, it was Titterstone Clee that commanded the local people's fear and respect. There was supposed to be an old fort on its peak, where an old Saxon chieftain had been buried, but no one dared to climb up there to attest it. Stories abounded of the misfortunes that befell those brave—or foolish—enough to venture up its slope. One came back swearing he had seen the Devil lead a hunt along the peak, on the back of a horse with fiery eyes and with a pack of demonic dogs. One young man had gone up one night and returned the next day with his hair snow-white. Some hadn't returned at all. Even people from Ed's village, over twenty miles away, knew not to let their cattle and sheep graze too near the foot of Titterstone Clee when they brought the animals to market day in Ludlow, the town closest to Clee Hills.

Now Ed must brave it. Because Christiana was up there, he was certain of it.

His friends were less convinced when he told them.

"Suppose you're right and they are on the top," Geoff said, "how are you going to climb up there without them noticing? If they have a lair, they will have guards. And they have the advantage of higher ground."

Geoff was right, of course, as always. No matter how sure he was, Ed had to confirm that those outlaw knights were indeed hiding on Titterstone Clee, and they had Christiana with them. He looked around at the barren hillside with its gray rocks and thin white layer of snow. There was nothing to provide cover. Anyone on top of the hill could see him coming from miles away.

Seeing Ed hesitate, Dustin stepped forward. "Let me go with you," he said. "We can watch out for each other."

Despite himself, Ed couldn't help feeling a surge of affection for the boy and admiration for his courage. "I'm sorry, lad, but no," he said, ruffling Dustin's curly head as the boy's face dropped. "You stay and keep watch down here." Then, turning to the wagon, Ed continued, "Tadhg, do we still have that white cloth used for our backdrop?"

Though their audiences were not the most sophisticated, Ed prided himself on all the careful details they put into their battle reenactments, and that meant not just city walls, gates, and siege machines, but castles, trees, deserts, and mountains as well. Most of the time, these details were no more than a painting on a large cloth hung on the wagon's wall, but they lent a touch of authenticity to the Knights of Hellfire's performances, which no other minstrel troupe could match. Now Tadhg unearthed the cloth from the back of the wagon. On one side, it still bore the scenery for the Siege of Jerusalem, showing what Ed and Geoff, the two painters of the troupe, had imagined the Holy Land to look like—palm trees that bore a suspicious resemblance to oaks and birches, and mosques and casbahs that looked not unlike English churches and castles. The other side, left blank, had gone gray with dust, but it was perfect for what Ed had in mind.

He took off his dark cloak and threw the cloth over his head, pinning it under his chin. From the top of the hill, he would simply appear as a smudge of grayish white against the grayish white rock and grayish white snow.

"Wait for me here," he told his friends. "If anyone approaches from below, give a signal. And if I—if I don't come back in an hour or so, go to Ludlow and alert the sheriff's men."

They nodded mutely.

"Here, Ed," Maxime said, extending the handle of her dagger toward him. "Take care, all right?"

Ed looked from the dagger to the girl's steely eyes, then looked around at the others, finding courage in their faces. Feeling much more confident than he had a moment ago, he took the dagger and nodded his thanks to Maxime as he tucked it into his belt.

Thus armed and disguised, he set out for Titterstone Clee.

He followed the spiral path of the hill at first, with the countryside spread out behind him like a gray blanket lined with black stitching. The snow was falling thicker by the minute, but Ed was glad of it—thicker snow meant more covering for him and less chance of the outlaws coming out of their fortress. Some horse droppings on the path told him he was going in the right direction, and, bending his head under the flurry, he continued on. The higher he climbed, the narrower the path became, until the fields below vanished from sight, and he was hemmed in from both sides by sheer rock faces. From time to time, he would carefully lift a fold of his covering cloth and glance at the summit looming overhead, watching for any movement. There was nothing, not even a half-starved winter bird, but Ed didn't let this lure him into a sense of false safety. He kept his eyes on the rocky hillside, his hand on the dagger, and the ribbon in his fist like a talisman.

It was thanks to this caution that Ed caught an opening in the escarpment on his left side, so narrow that he would've missed it altogether if it hadn't been for a piece of white fluff clinging to the jagged edge. He reached out and touched it. It didn't melt between his fingers like the powdery snow falling all around him, and there was still a thread of blue attached to it. Christiana might not have dropped this piece of fluff, but it had been from her nonetheless—her cloak must have caught on the rock when she was taken through the gap.

This must be the entrance to the lair then. Heart pounding, Ed took a step back to examine the terrain. Behind him, the path that circled the hill disappeared between the rock cliffs; above him, the summit rose with its tall rocky crests like battlements, and in front of him, the mysterious fissure gaped, dark and foreboding, the gate to some accursed country. But his princess was behind that gate, and breach it he must.

Wrapping the white cloth more carefully around himself, Ed stepped through the cleft. It was larger than he'd first thought, though only enough for one horse to go through at a time. It didn't seem to be watched, and he managed to make his way up the tight passage through the rocks, following a large brook which had gone to ice, without being detected. Through the thin, freezing air, he could smell woodsmoke and the rich, hearty scent of cooking bacon. His stomach rumbled as he remembered he hadn't eaten anything since the night before, except for a quick bite of bread and cheese before they set out from Wain's croft. If the smell could carry to where he was, he must be close. Then the passage widened into a plateau, and Ed finally understood why the outlaws had chosen this place as their hideout.

Already well concealed by the rocky outcrops, the plateau and the round stone buildings that occupied it were surrounded by a stockade of more stones—whether naturally-occurring or manmade, Ed could not tell. One side of it faced the hillside, giving its occupants a good view of whoever was coming up the slope. The other side was backed upon the sheer drop of the western face, unreachable save by birds. What he'd thought was part of the summit turned out to be a tower, its timber walls and roof already covered in powdery snow, allowing it to blend in perfectly with the rest of the rock. With such a watchtower and gate, no wonder Vecna and his men could afford to be so complacent about their stronghold.

Hidden behind a large boulder overlooking the plateau, Ed watched the buildings below for signs of life. The smoke he'd smelled earlier curled lazily around a thin thatch roof, and soon enough, a man emerged from the building, yawning and scratching himself. He went into another building, which Ed guessed was the stable, for a chorus of whinnies greeted the man as he entered. The man grumbled, "All right, you old nags, here's your breakfast," and Ed was so close he could almost hear the sound of the horses munching their hay and oats. 

Then another man came out of the first building, carrying a steaming bowl toward the tower. Ed's heart beat faster. Could that tower be where—? He strained his ears and caught the very faint slamming of a door, and a moment later, a different man left the tower. Clearly a changing of the guards. And who else would be so strongly guarded?

Ed wanted nothing more than to jump down and carve his way through those men to free Christiana, and he had to dig the handle of the dagger into the palm of his hand to stop himself. He stood no chance against those outlaws. If he confronted them now, he would be the one carved up, like a suckling pig at a Christmas feast. Now was not the time for bluster and bravado. Now was the time for watchfulness and stealth. Not the Siege of Jerusalem or the Battle of Hastings, but the Trojan Horse.

At that moment, Vecna himself appeared at the door of the first building, turning in a slow circle, watching the sky. As the warlord's remaining eye swept across the rocky fence surrounding the hideout, Ed found himself ducking behind the rock where he was hiding. Though he knew Vecna could not possibly see him from this distance with just one eye, deep down, he felt that eye had some malevolent magic that allowed it to see more than a pair of normal eyes ever could.

Vecna barked some orders at his men before returning to the warmth of his hall. Ed continued his survey of the place, counting the men—there were only five of them, six including Vecna—and committing every detail to memory. Once he was confident that he had seen everything there was to see, he beat a quiet retreat, back the way he'd come.

At the gap in the rock, he paused. The reconnaissance had given him a good idea of the outlaws' lair, but still he saw no way to approach it, no plan to attack it. After gnawing on his lip for a moment, he turned westward, searching for a path to approach the tower from the back. It was the only direction where he could catch the outlaws unawares.

The only trouble was, there was no path. On this side, the hill fell sheer, and the rocks were sharp and angular. One false step and his blood and brains would splatter amongst those rocks.

Ed got off the path and onto the steep hillside. Nimbly, like a mountain goat, he clambered from rock to rock, using both hands and feet to find a grip, his muscles still remembering Master George's lessons in tightrope walking. Once or twice, he slipped on a patch of treacherous moss, slick with snow and ice, but he managed to right himself by grabbing a nearby ridge. Ignoring the snow clinging to his hair and melting into his lashes, he continued, keeping his eye on the bulk of the tower that loomed in and out of view between the ridges above him. Now that he knew it was there, he no longer mistook it for the summit, and as he came closer, he could even make out the gaps between the logs hastily put together to form the pointed roof. What drew his attention, though, was the small lattice on that roof. With his eyes, he measured its height and span. Could a person fit through it? Christiana was slim, but would she fit?

For a few moments, Ed stood clinging to a ledge on the sheer cliff, gathering his breath, and weighing his options. The tower was within his reach. He could climb it, break through the lattice with the knife, and try to get Christiana out. But if he, who had been trained in acrobatics as a boy, had had such a hard time on this cliff, then Christiana would have even less chance. And he was exhausted and starving; should they get discovered, he wouldn't be able to defend her. It was too big a risk. Best to rejoin his friends and come up with a plan.

Before he made his way down the hill, there was one thing he needed to make certain of. He scaled the tower, careful not to make too much noise. The logs were so new that they still retained the bumps and knots from their branches, which provided him with excellent foot- and handholds. Reaching the lattice, he put his eye to the opening.

His heart skipped a beat. There she was, curled up under some fur, with her head pillowed on a grain sack, her golden hair all loose like a tousled halo. His princess. His Christiana. She was asleep and didn't see him. The bowl the man had brought her was now empty on the floor. Good. At least they were keeping her well fed and rested. She would need her strength, if Ed was to free her from this cage.

Christiana shuddered in her sleep, and Ed thought he could see tears glistening at the corner of her eye. "Hold tight, sweetheart," he whispered. "I shall come back for you."

It was the most difficult thing he'd ever done, turning away from that tower, but turn away he did. After picking his way across the rocks and returning to the path, he eventually found his friends, who had retreated into the woods at the foot of the hill and were now cooking breakfast behind the safety of the wagon. Ed fell gratefully upon the hot food and told them of everything he'd seen.

"What's the plan then?" Gareth asked, once Ed had finished eating.

"I can make the climb again, now that I know where to go," Ed replied. "But how to get her down..."

"Why don't we go to Ludlow now?" Gareth said. "The sheriff and his men should be more able to deal with this than we ever could."

"I'd rather not have Vecna and his men barricade themselves inside their lair and use Christiana to bargain," explained Ed. "We shall try to steal her away as quietly as we can."

"We have ropes," Tadhg said. "The cliff is sheer but not that tall, you said so yourself."

Ed nodded. "Yes, only about as tall as a three- or four-story house."

"Then you can tie a rope to that tower and climb down, and once you've cleared the cliff, it's just a downhill run—"

"But what of Vecna and his men?" Geoff interjected, looking at Ed. "Suppose they discover you?"

Dustin, who had been sitting in uncharacteristic silence throughout Ed's report, now spoke up. "Let's wait until dark," he said. "Those outlaws will either leave at dusk to do their robbing and pillaging, or they will have come back by then, eating and drinking and merrymaking to celebrate a successful hunt. Either way, they will be distracted and not keep a close watch."

The boy's reason was sound, but Geoff was still unconvinced. "And suppose they give chase?" he asked. "We can't outrun them. Where should we go? Where can we hide?"

Dustin and Maxime exchanged a look. "We've discussed that as well," Maxime said slowly. "And I suggest we use a decoy. I have a similar cloak to Lady Christiana. I can dress up like her, so if they give chase, I can lead them away—"

"No." Ed looked at the girl, horrified. "I cannot let you take such a risk. Christiana would not want you to take such a risk."

"It is my decision," snapped Maxime, her eyes flashing. "Do not for one moment believe you're the only one that cares for Christiana. She is like a sister to me. I would gladly do that for her and more. And it's only a precaution. If you can steal her away as planned, there may be no need for me to be the decoy at all."

Ed sighed. "All right. But you two"—he pointed at Dustin and Maxime—"stay with Gareth. Other than myself, he knows the area best. I don't want you to get lost if we are separated."

They spent the remainder of the day trying to get some rest and going through their plan again and again until everyone knew his or her part. Occasionally, one of them would go to the edge of the woods to watch the slopes for any movement, but Vecna and his men appeared to be staying put. At last, as the sun began to dip toward the horizon, they left the protection of the woods and headed for the western face of Titterstone Clee. Rather than retreating his steps earlier that day, Ed had decided to approach the tower directly from behind, where he could be safe from the outlaws' watchful eyes. While Geoff and Tadhg followed him to the bottom of the sheer cliff with Warlock, Ed had Gareth, Dustin, and Maxime—now dressed in a blue cloak—wait where the trees ended and the barren hillside began, so they could escape into the woods more easily. They all agreed to reconvene at Wain's croft if things went right, and if not, they would try to find their way to Ludlow.

Then, with a length of rope wrapped around his waist, Ed began the climb.

The way was harder, but this time, he'd had food in his belly and some rest—though he had been too agitated to get much sleep—and was fueled by the impatience to free Christiana as soon as possible. He climbed steadily, ignoring the sharp rocks that cut his palms and tore his shoes to shreds, ignoring the snow that had collected in the cracks between the rocks, which turned his fingers into icicles, ignoring the freezing wind that hissed in his ears and whipped his hair about his face. In truth, he was glad of the wind, for it helped to mask the sound of his approach. When he found a ledge wide enough to rest on, he took out Christiana's ribbon and used it to tie his hair up, away from his face.

As the dark mass of the tower drew closer, Ed no longer had to worry about making noises, for plenty of noises were coming from the hideout. Dustin had been right—Vecna and his men had not left for a nightly raid, but they were indeed drinking, and their drunken shouting and singing could be heard on the thin, lofty air across the hills. Carried by the wind from the hidden plateau, those noises took on a sinister note, like they were made by a pack of demons climbing up from the bowels of the earth. No wonder people believed Titterstone Clee was the site for the Devil's Wild Hunt.

But Ed had no time for superstitious fears. The sound of merrymaking had awakened another, more immediate fear in him—what if the outlaws became bored of their own company and used Christiana to amuse themselves? If they touched a hair on her head, he would have to confront them after all, his own skin be damned.

A few more steps, and he managed to reach the lattice window of the tower. As he had before, he put his eye to it and sagged with relief when he saw, in the slats of firelight coming through the timber, Christiana sitting on the grain sack with her arms around her knees. Her head was turned toward the main hall, where the light and the noises were coming from, so she didn't see him.

Using Maxime's dagger, Ed pried the lattice off its frame. The sound alerted Christiana, who whirled around like a trapped bird in a cage. Her mouth fell open as she took in the sight of Ed tugging at a stubborn nail in the window frame. Ed put a warning finger to his lips, and she closed her mouth again, suppressing her half-uttered cry of relief. With one final tug, he took the lattice off and wriggled his head and shoulders through the opening, before sliding his way down the inner wall. His feet had barely touched the ground when Christiana fell into his arms. Her wrists were still bound, so she couldn't embrace him, but she pressed her trembling body against him.

"Oh, Ed!" she cried out in a choked whisper, her voice full of tears. "I knew you'd come for me! I kept praying—"

"Of course I'd come for you," Ed said, freeing her wrists with a quick slice of the dagger. "How could I leave my princess? But we must hurry. We don't have much time."

He tied the rope to a beam on the roof of the tower and pulled on it a few times to make sure it was fast in place. This done, he threw the other end out the now lattice-less window and turned to Christiana. "Now," he said. "Just grab the rope and climb down. The others are waiting at the foot of the hill."

Christiana pointed at a trapdoor on the floor of the tower, next to where she'd been sitting. "There's a guard down there..." she said anxiously.

Ed took a quick look around and dragged all the grain sacks he could over the trapdoor. They would not hold forever, but that would give them enough of a forestart.

"Right," he said, kneeling by the rope and locking his fingers to form a step so he could boost her up the wall. "Let's go."

Christiana looked at the rope uncertainly. "I don't know if I can—"

"Yes, you can." Seeing that she still wavered, Ed pulled her close and placed a kiss on her lips, a strong, reassuring kiss that made up for its brevity by its depth and passion. "Take courage, sweetheart," he said when they drew apart, the term of endearment coming so naturally to him that he realized he'd been calling her by it in his mind all along.

Christiana's eyes widened, both shocked and delighted by Ed's unexpected display. Then she set her chin, squared her shoulders, and gave him a determined nod. She stepped on his proffered hands and pulled herself through the opening. A moment later, her soft voice came from outside the tower, sounding a little breathless, "I have the rope!"

"Hold tight, I'm right behind you."  

He joined her on the rocky ledge. Carefully, they made their descent, Christiana holding on to the rope. Ed, who didn't need the rope for himself, kept it steady while listening out for any change in the noises from the lair above them. It seemed Mother Nature had extended her benevolence to the two of them and made their descent as easy as possible, for the wind and the snow had stopped, and the waning moon came out from behind the clouds to shine down on them, showing them the way. The going was slow, for Christiana had to take frequent stops to rest her ankle, which no doubt was still sore, but Ed didn't push her. When her fingers chafed and bled from the roughness of the hemp, he gave her his handkerchief as a pad for her hands. When her breath became shallow and her grip on the rope slackened, he was right next to her, wrapping his arm around her waist to support her as they found a foothold amongst the rocks.

Finally, the silhouettes of Geoff, Tadhg, and Warlock came into view at the bottom of the hill. Tadhg was waving his hand to show all was well. Ed allowed himself to breathe a little more easily and nodded at Christiana. "We're nearly there," he said.

That was when pandemonium broke out.

A roar came from the tower, and the noises of revelry abruptly stopped. It seemed the outlaws had discovered the flight of their captive bird.

"Go, go, go!" Ed urged Christiana.

Above them, a shaggy head poked through the lattice, looking down against the moonlit sky. There was another angry roar, and a shout, so loud even they could hear it, "Cut that rope!"

The rope started shaking horribly in their hands, as though someone in the tower was sawing through it.

Ed glanced at the ground, trying to calculate the remaining distance. They were still some ways off, but if they waited, the rope would be cut and throw them off balance. Better to abandon it now.

"Jump!" he shouted to Christiana, and they let go of the rope.

Landing on the half-frozen ground, they were pulled to their feet by Geoff and Tadhg, just as the cut rope crumpled in a heap next to them. Tadhg, never one to waste anything, gathered it up. The man at the tower cursed.

"I think they're onto us," Geoff said unnecessarily.

"Yes, thank you, Geoff, I've gathered as much," panted Ed, for the jump had knocked the breath out of him. He lifted Christiana onto Warlock's back. "Hold on to his mane," he told her. They led the horse toward the trees. Already, the sound of charging horses was coming up behind them like thunder.

"Go, Ed!" said Tadhg, nodding at Warlock. "We'll lead them away!"

"Meet us at Ludlow!" Ed managed to say before jumping on Warlock's back. Bless him, the horse seemed to grasp the urgency of the situation and, for the first time in his life, tried to gallop as fast as his sturdy little legs permitted. They tumbled down the slope together, before Geoff and Tadhg melted into the trees along with Gareth, Dustin, and Maxime. Ed couldn't see where they'd gone.

"Where are they?" Christiana asked in front of him. He didn't know if she meant their friends or their pursuers.

"Just go! Don't look back!"

Yet despite his own words, Ed did look back. A column of men and horses was coming down the slope of Titterstone Clee—were his eyes deceiving him, or had the outlaws grown in numbers? How could six men look so numerous? The one at the front was already at the edge of the woods. Instead of pushing his horse into the thicket, the man had perplexedly pulled his horse to a halt and was now raising his arms. There was something in his hand...

Ed's heart stopped when he realized what the outlaw was pointing at them. A crossbow. That weapon deemed so un-Christian that it was banned by the Pope. Naturally, such a ban would have no hold over these outlaws.

Ed gripped Warlock's mane and kicked his heels into Warlock's flanks, desperately urging the horse to go faster. There was a hiss through the air, and he felt something hit his back with a thud, like being walloped by a singlestick. He was wondering why it didn't hurt when pain exploded across his back, white-hot, spreading through his body, numbing his limbs.

Ed felt Christiana's hair under his cheek. He must have slumped forward, his body jolting violently along with Warlock's gallop, each jolt bringing the pain deeper, thousands of tiny needles penetrating his flesh. Somewhere, dimly, Christiana was screaming. And then the world went—

Chapter 14

I took the idea of a bandits' lair on top of Titterstone Clee from "The Virgin in the Ice", book #6 of the Brother Cadfael series (I learned so much about medieval life and the civil war between Stephen and Maud from these books.) The book doesn't mention it, but there is an actual Iron Age fort on top of this hill.

The Catholic Church did issue a ban on the crossbow starting in the late 11th century and again in 1139 (the year the story takes place), but it didn't do much good.

[brasletygtz]

Double date

At some point I feel like my oc Dustin was Abbey's partner (before working for Van Rook) and here comes the double date.

While Dustin and Abbey were leaving, Miranda and Beeman, I feel like they were in a separate corner so as not to disturb them.

But Abbey was attracted to Dustin because of how he handles weapons calmly and patiently, apart from his ability to put the bullet where he puts his eye, such is the case that I believe based on the canon of the series, would be the moment before the girl left. Van Rook's apprentice and wanted to convince Dustin to get into the business but Dustin didn't want to and didn't betray her because he wanted to stay out of the matter.

Abbey: You'd rather keep putting up with Beeman than use the potential you have? Are you crazy?!

Dustin: Yes, what is the problem? I've always told you that I don't like to fight or hurt anyone...Unless I provoked myself...But apart from that I like my job.

Abbey: But being a mercenary you would have double if not triple or more of what Beeman can offer you...don't you realize?

Dustin: I don't work for money.I do it for pleasure and comfort, if you don't like it... I think you're not the right girl for me...

Abbey: *with a frown and annoyed she stands up pointing at Dustin* Well then! I say the same about a COWARD who likes to live off crumbs!

[get-loved-123]

My favorite headcannons in my Stranger Things Fic:

Will hates that El's birthday is celebrated on November 6th (she picked it), but then he forgets that it's the day he goes missing so he moves on. She only picked that date because it's usually seen as bad so she wanted to make him happy

Back in California, Will and El used to split the time they spent with Sean. Will gets Monday and Tuesday, El gets Thursday and Friday, and he hangs out with both on Wednesdays. On the weekends, he spends time with Argyle.

Furthermore, Sean met them because he threw a book at Will's head. He was aiming for Angela, but she dodged it. He got two weeks' detention and met them after Argyle did. Will fell for him the same day he got hit.

Eleven likes to be called Jane more than "El" but she keeps it as a nickname.

Mike spent a whole day at Max's house complaining about how much he dislikes Sean.

Sean's real birth name is Ignacio De La Cruz. His birth mother is white Dominican and his biological dad is Afro-Dominican. His mother was shot four times because she broke into the lab repeatedly to get him back. She's alive, lives in Indianapolis, and is still looking for him.

Angela and Sean used to be friends but that was before he was outed. El and Will know nothing about this story.

Sean knows Spanish but no one knows how. In fact, no one in the adopted family taught him Spanish. He started speaking it one day and they just went along with it.

Dr. Roseanne, their therapist, believes that Sean and El are on the neurodivergent spectrum. They both have varying severities of ADHD, autism, BPD, PTSD, depression, and anxiety. She knows not to diagnose them just yet.

Sean would identify as genderfluid if he grew up in 2024.

Ana Maria was arrested because Sean and Mateo had found a dead body in their backyard and had moved it. She confessed to killing the man and got the charges dropped from her brothers.

The man died form heroin overdose

Eleven gets irregular periods. Jonathan was there when she got her first one. She was terrified.

Eleven and Will were taught how to surf by Argyle. Jonathan would take videos of them while Sean suntanned (he doesn't need to tan at all but he can't swim).

Elliot calls Max daily to complain about Lucas's gentle and unbearable physical affection. She laughs every time.

Erica loves Lucas. And she tells him every night before she goes off to bed. (She's terrified of losing him after Vecna)

Erica and Melanie are very close and do each other's hair.

Will, Eleven, and Mike go to NYU. Sean goes to Cal U School of Arts. Max enters the workforce and become a tattoo apprentice. Dustin and Lucas get into Perdue. Elliot and Melanie join them a year later.

Steve has been in love with Jonathan since he punched him back in S1.

The Guerreros are incredibly rich. Their dad owns the Sufer Boy Pizza Franchise, and Argyle just likes to smoke weed and make pizza.

Their majors are Double Major in Fine Arts & Art History (Will); Double Major in Business & English (Mike); Fashion Design (Eleven); Double Major in Theater Arts & Art History (Sean); Architectural Science (Lucas); Computer Science (Dustin); Sports and Physical Therapy (Elliot); Writing and Journalism (Melanie)

Suzie becomes ex-Mormon

[steddieficfind]

Actually looking for two fics, similar topic though. Both were on Ao3. The first was Witch Steve where he becomes Joyce's apprentice. I remember there's a part about a bracelet that Steve accidentally uses on Eddie. I think he also made a luck charm and Eddie got angry for the false confidence. The second one was Witch Eddie and was a Practical Magic au where Eddie curses himself to never fall in love unless it's the perfect guy. Max and Dustin were Steve's kids in it and Eddie made them charms.

Requests 1017 & 1018!

1017 is Impractical Magic by EddieSpaghetti, on Ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42408330

And 1018 is And I Knew (in the Crystalline Knowledge of You) by PippinPips, on Ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43381260

Send us an ask if either of these don’t sound right & Remember to comment, bookmark, and leave kudos!

[he11fireclubtm]

Hey Dusty bun! Is it true you used to have a crush on Nancy? Because I think she's a bit old for you

“Used to being the keyword. It’s so embarrassing. I knew I never stood a chance, don’t worry. But you can’t blame me for thinking Nancy is pretty cool.” Dustin cleared his throat, trying to will away the pink now gracing his cheeks.

[steviestits]

Not sure if you're still taking prompts but I was wondering if you could do Potions/Bitching, and Guards/Brainwashing if no one has asked those already. Thank you!!

Thanks for the prompts! And nope, no one has asked for those, so yours are completely original

Potions/Bitching - Eddie is a potions master and Dustin is his apprentice while Steve is Dustin's surrogate big brother. Eddie and Steve are alphas, but Dustin is a beta, so he's having a bit of trouble learning how to create potions suited for alpha/omega biology. Dustin doesn't let that deter him, though, and he continues to try to learn the practices on his own.

Eventually, Dustin thinks he's got the potion right and gives it to Steve to try, telling him that it should make his ruts go smoother. Steve is dubious of the potion's powers, but Dustin wears him down, promising that he wouldn't be giving it to Steve if he wasn't one hundred percent certain that it works. So, against his better judgment, Steve drinks the potion.

The potion works. Steve does have a smoother rut, because he doesn't have one at all. The night that he takes the potion, Steve goes through his first heat as the potion bitched him from an alpha to an omega. It's a bit painful growing a womb, but by the end of it, he's moaning in pleasure as his hormones shifted to those of an omega.

After Steve finishes his heat, he tracks down Dustin, upset that the kid accidentally bitched him. Dustin feels sorry and takes Steve to Eddie, who will know how to turn him back into an alpha. Though Steve doesn't want to try any more potions, he goes with Dustin to meet Eddie to see if he actually has a solution.

Steve arrives with Dustin at the tower, only to find that the omega in him is going wild over the alpha's scent. Dustin relays the problem to Eddie, but Eddie is clearly not listening as he seems aroused by Steve's scent, too. Eddie makes up an errand for Dustin to run, and Eddie fucks Steve right there on his potions table.

Dustin returns shortly after they finished fucking for the tenth time and doesn't seem to know what was going on in his absence. Eddie agrees to make the potion to change Steve back, except it doesn't work. The only reason why it wouldn't work was if Steve was pregnant, making the affects of the spell permanent.

As it turns out, the potion also made Steve hyper-fertile. Not only did he get pregnant super quickly, but nine months later, the local midwife delivers all six of Steve and Eddie's baby nuggets.

Guards/Brainwashing - Steve works as a day-shift guard at a magical prison that houses the most dangerous magical creatures known to the kingdom. One such creature is a hawk-like siren named Eddie who has been responsible for the sinking of numerous shifts and the deaths of many of crews. He's kept in one of the high-security wards where they have enchantments that supposedly nullify the inherent magical nature of his voice.

Eddie is personable and sometimes chats with Steve on shift, asking him about his day. He seems to be one of the more model prisoners, serving his consecutive life sentences without much of a fuss. Also, the other prisoners don't bother Eddie, so he doesn't bother them. All in all, Eddie seems to be taking imprisonment very well.

Because of the highly dangerous nature of the inmates, guards sleep on site in their own barracks, even on their days off, they must return to the barracks for sleep in case of an emergency. What no one knows, however, is that the night watch has been compromised as the enchantments stopped working in his cell.

Every night, Eddie sings a song for the guards and commands them to release him. He doesn't escape, however, and instead heads to the guard barracks where Steve sleeps, so he can sing to him. Eddie's been working a deeper song on Steve to sway his heart and loyalty in order to make Steve into his beloved mate.

The two have intimate intercourse each night while Eddie wraps Steve tighter in his spell. Steve assumes these are only dreams since there's no way Eddie would still be here if he could freely leave his cell as he did at night. He begins to believe that maybe he actually has deep feelings for the siren prisoner.

This continues until the spell is complete and Eddie can take his prize away from the prison. He brings Steve to his nest, where Steve is happy to stay because of the song that binds him.

[snowangeldotmp3]

on my hands and knees for rival monster hunter ronance

zoey i have a few pieces of this au for u!!

first, some rivals (still working on this part kshgkg)

Nancy grabs Robin by the jaw, brings her down to Nancy’s level. Firm, slender fingers keeping her in place. Robin’s mouth runs dry. “Don’t ever get in my way again,” she says through gritted teeth. “Understand?”

then, some friends....perhaps more....

“I’m not jealous!” “Never said you were, Wheeler,” Robin says, grinning. Nancy’s face reddens, and Robin’s enjoying every second of this. “Besides, we both know that you’re the better shot anyway. Annie has nothing on you.” Robin’s magic thrums again, electricity humming just under her fingertips, and she has the strangest urge to reach out and— “Hey, lovebirds!” Max shouts from across the saloon. “You might wanna come see this.” “We’re not—” “Don’t,” Robin sighs. “You’ll only encourage her.”

and, bonus! steve and robin:

Robin turns around, clutching the vials close to her chest. “No, I can't just magic it away. It doesn't work like that. There are rules, and this is supposed to be a back-up plan anyway,” she says, motioning toward the cauldron. “Plan 'A' is to use Wheeler's special shotgun.” “Special shotgun?” Robin shrugs. “It's charmed or enchanted or some shit. She won't let me experiment on it to see what it's actually made of, or what the charm is. She's very protective over it.” Steve hums, snaps his fingers. “Oh, like you and that book you always carry.” "For the last time, Steven. It is a grimoire. I have to have it in order to do this,“ she motions to all the vials and the smoking cauldron in front of her. ”it's not just a book.“ ”Whatever,“ he says, grabbing his hat and boots, slipping them on before he slips out the door. ”I've got to go meet Claudia for Dustin's lessons. Says he needs to do more than just experiment on her garden all day. Actually, I might send him here if he keeps that up. He could be a great apprentice.“

[themelancholyhill]

Rules: List 10 comfort shows and then tag 10 people

I was tagged by the lovely @morganathewitch to list my go to comfort shows, but since I don't watch a lot of shows, I'm gonna include movies mainly! I will include either stills from each movie and/or a song from the ost.

1. Sophia Coppola's Marie Antoinette:

This is easily one of my favorite movies and it's the first thing that comes to my mind if someone asks what my all time favourite movie is. It is visually stunning, the soundtrack is perfection, and Kristen Dunst did an incredible job portraying the young Marie Antoinette!

2. Guy Ritchie's Sherlock Holmes:

This one is a great watch during autumn. Robert Downey Jr, to me, is Sherlock. The soundtrack is also excellent.

3. The Color of Pomegranates (aka Sayat Nova) dir. Sergueï Paradjanov:

How can I not include this visually stunning film?? It tells the life of the medieval Armenian poet Sayat Nova. Paradjanov uses visual means to convey the story which makes it feel like a poem is being painted (if this makes any sense!) I recommend checking this video before or after watching the film.

4. Amelie (or Le Fabuleux Destin d'Amélie Poulain):

This speaks to my inner hopeless romantic. I don't relate to it as strongly as I used to, but it's still a solid and gorgeous film. The story telling is quirky, but in a good and comfy way.

5. One Piece (the Netflix Live Action):

The second I watched half of episode 1, I fell in love with this show. As someone who loves the anime, I was anxious about this version being silly or even, pardon the term, cringey. However, it's like seeing the source material for the first time. The cast, story, costumes, the soundtrack, etc is perfect and it'll always be a definite comfort watch for me.

6. Faust (1926):

I've been watching silent movies a lot this year, and though I enjoyed plenty, this one stands out to me particularly. Despite being made in the 20s, the production is spot on. The visuals and special effects are incredible and it's also a perfect autumn watch!

7. Only Lovers Left Alive:

I adore this movie. I mean 2 vampires who are passionate about music and literature... sign me up! Obviously, there's more to it, but I recommend watching with no clue about it if you're into vampires!

8. The Hunchback of Notre Dame:

I had to include a Disney movie here and this is easily my all time favourite. After reading the novel by Hugo, I have a newly found appreciation for the Disney version.

9. Fantasia (1940):

As a visual person, this one speaks to my soul. It's, not only, the reason why I started appreciating classical music, but I also get inspired by the animation for my watercolor paintings.

10. Peau d'âne:

Last but not least, I've decided to revisit this gem from my childhood, and it still stands the test of time in my humble opinion. It's whimsical and simply camp; I'm actually surprised that no one on the met gala didn't take inspiration from it!

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Thank you so much for reading through this list, and I hope that you've discovered new movies, and who knows, some of them might be your new comfort movies 🍂

I tag: @minsulies @elegantwizardsoul @sharkyle @serena-idade @oldsuperstition @dionyrtal @x3xmcx3x @silentcedars @fkhufu @pearleyednomad

[steddie-fanfic-recs]

Car Grease & Hair Gel.

by fizzfics

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Character: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Wayne Munson, Steve Harrington's Parents, Robin Buckley, Dustin Henderson, Nancy Wheeler Additional Tags: steddie, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Angst, Fluff, steddie stranger things, Love, Falling In Love, Idiots in Love, Friendship/Love, Boys In Love, First Love, Love/Hate, Gay, Gay Panic, Gay Male Character Words: 14,981 Chapters: 11/11

Summary

When neither of them get into college, Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson are both forced to get summer jobs. Eddie takes up as his uncle's apprentice at the family autoshop, and Steve is scooping ice cream at the mall. When Steve's car breaks down and only Eddie can fix it, they strike up a tense friendship built on drug deals and the politics of popularity in Hawkins. But where once animosity lived, love soon begins to grow.