#The Battle for The Four Realms

[twin-chains]

Timeline things

I figured out how to fit the BS games into the timeline!

In order to incorporate all the heroes for this AU, the TC timeline will be split up so that “every time someone time travels and makes significant changes in that time, a new timeline split is created” (so going back in time to complete the Temple of Time in Twilight Princess wouldn’t cause a new timeline for instance). Basically this rule means that a timeline is created where the person DID travel through time and a timeline where the person LEFT and life continues on without that person, as if they just vanished into thin air. It is much more confusing than Nintendo's timeline but bare with me

This creates 4 main timeline splits

when Impa travels back and forth to aid Zelda in Skyward Sword

when Zelda sends Link back to his childhood in Ocarina of Time (we already know this one)

when Veran possesses Nayru to travel between the ages in Oracle of Ages

when Zelda travels back in time in the memories in Tears of the Kingdom

(technically Hyrule Warriors: Definitive Edition doesn't combine or split the timelines but rather makes the timelines super unstable since Cia brought people to her time rather than traveled herself, more on that later)

Skyward Sword

When Impa travels back and forth in time to help guide Zelda (Destiny) as Hylia's reincarnation, she inadvertently brings Ghirahim with her and starts the events of Skyward Sword as we know it. This is known as the Master Sword timeline because Link (Chosen) ends up upgrading the white goddess sword into the master sword.

However, this means Impa leaves a timeline where she didn't time travel in the first place known as the Goddess Sword timeline. In that timeline, Destiny is not kidnapped by Ghirahim but does end up being drawn to the power of the triforce on the surface. Chosen and Groose try to help her but Chosen doesn't find the goddess sword and Groose (the first ancestor of the Gerudo) ends up sacrificing himself to help defend them. Destiny somehow ends up barely sealing Demise but without Impa's guidance, she accidentally fuses the pieces of the triforce into one singular artifact known as the light force. The hylians of Skyloft still descend to found the settlement of Hyrule but some creatures (who later become the Minish) stay in the sky and discover the untouched goddess sword.

Demise's monster army is still scouring the surface as Hyrule is being founded. So in the Age of the Minish that follows, the small race descend from the sky and bring the light force and the goddess sword (referred to as the Picori Blade) to the hylians to help defeat the monsters. The light force only responds to the new princess (Power) due to her goddess bloodline. The hero of men (Mighty) wields the Picori blade and seals the monsters of Demise into the Bound Chest, thus creating the legends in the intro sequence of the Minish Cap. The Picori Blade goes on to become the Four Sword in the events of Minish Cap. Based on this, the Goddess Sword timeline contains the Four Swords trilogy (Minish Cap, Four Swords, FSA) while the rest of the games exist in the Master Sword timeline.

Ocarina of Time

We already know how the adult timeline and child timeline split. The downfall timeline is also basically the same in concept. When Young Link tries to wield the Master Sword, there's a timeline where he doesn't travel forward in time or get aged up into Adult Link. Thus, Young Link is not strong enough to defeat Ganondorf and dies during their fight.

The Adult timeline contains The Wind Waker, Phantom Hourglass, Spirit Tracks, and Hyrule Warriors.

The Child timeline contains Majora's Mask, Twilight Princess, Link's Crossbow Training, the Age of the Sheikah (first Calamity), and Breath of the Wild.

The Downfall timeline contains ALTTP, Oracle of Seasons, Oracle of Ages, and Link's Awakening.

Oracle of Ages

In OOA, the Twinrova send Veran to possess Nayru and use her time powers to go back in time to light the flame of sorrow while Legend uses the Harp of Ages to collect the Essences to stop them. But by doing so, there is a timeline that Veran-Nayru leaves and Legend is able to defeat the Twinrova prematurely, without the flame of sorrow lit to resurrect Ganon. In that battle, as a last ditch effort, the Twinrova curse Legend with horrible sorrow before they are defeated. This causes him to carry this innate sorrow in his heart that is subtle at first and slowly grows over time but Legend is none-the-wiser and sails home.

When Legend is sailing home, he goes on the adventure in Link's Awakening. But because of his growing sorrow, he can't bear the thought of saying goodbye to Koholint or waking the Wind Fish, so he chooses to stay there and live in that dream world forever. This is known as the Dream timeline.

In the Dream timeline, it's unknown if Legend is alive or if he died at sea or is in a weird state of Schrödinger’s limbo. In Legend's absence, the monsters of his time return six years later and two young children Star and Sun are forced to take up the mantle. They do not have the hero's spirit (Legend holds it) but are endowed with the light of the goddess, going on to become the heroes of light in BS Ancient Stone Tablets. These two heroes also go on a very fast-paced adventure many years later in BS The Legend of Zelda.

The other timeline where Legend successfully completes OOA and Link's Awakening in canon is called the Reality Timeline. In the Reality timeline, Legend returns home successfully and can defeat the monsters that return with ease. Many years later, Legend's successor Clover does ALBW and then travels to Hytopia to become one of the Triforce Heroes with two other Links nicknamed Ember and Aqua. In the Reality timeline, Hyrule enters an era of peace for many years until the Era of Decline, when Fay becomes the hero of TLOZ and the Adventures of Link.

Tears of the Kingdom

When Zelda goes back in time in the beginning of TOTK, she creates a timeline where she becomes the light dragon and lives for over 10,000 years (which is the canon of BOTW and TOTK) known as the Light Dragon timeline. The young pre-Calamity Zelda would notice the dragon during her childhood and feel strangely drawn to the creature, she ends up pulling herself away from her Sheikah research sometimes to spend time trying to catch a glimpse or study ancient legends about dragons and Zonai. The events of BOTW and TOTK occur normally in this LD timeline.

In the timeline where she doesn't become the LD, Zelda solely focuses on Sheikah research and experiments with ancient relics, even re-activating a strange mini-Guardian she names Terrako. This is known as the Terrako timeline because when the Calamity hits, Terrako goes back in time to prevent the death of the Champions in HW: Age of Calamity (technically creating 3 timelines because Terrako time travels too but we're going to pretend it works out for now until another game comes out)

Hyrule Warriors

Normally, Hyrule Warriors is the game that connects all the OOT timelines because of Cia opening up the time-space portals between the eras, allowing for Breath of the Wild to come after. However in this timeline, BOTW occurs in the child timeline with Twilight Princess, which is why the past heroes mentioned in the Subdued Ceremony memory are “skyward bound, adrift in time, or steeped in the glowing embers of twilight”

Meanwhile, I put HW after Spirit Tracks when New Hyrule is founded and a new royal army is formed. Purely based on vibes in all honestly.

Instead of 'merging the timelines,' HW creates cracks and instability between the timelines, accounting for weird inconsistencies between eras like Majora's mask in Link's house in ALBW or a small subsect of the Zora evolving into Rito without the flood in the Child Timeline. Maybe that’s also how the TC heroes manage to meet up across time hehe

Although, there’s a particularly strong connection between the downfall timeline and the goddess sword timeline. Namely, the palace of the four sword can be found in ALTTP while Ganon and the dark world find themselves in FSA (since with Groose’s death, the Gerudo, and Ganon by extension, cease to exist). I like to think their worlds are unstable already due to their status as ‘failed’ timelines in a sense and messing with the hero’s spirit (fracturing it into 4 with FS and the weird limbo Legend gets into in the BS games). So to compensate for their unstable states, they start to bond together and share pieces from their world like electrons to form some semblance of stability and strength.

This was just supposed to be about accounting for the BS games but all this timeline talk kinda got away from me and became an essay, it’s fun to think about though!

[comixandco]

Tears of the Kingdom isn’t the first time we’ve heard the phrase The Imprisoning War in Zelda lore

It’s also the term used in the Downfall Timeline as a precursor to LttP when Ganon was unleashed from the Sacred Realm and the King and the Sages rushed to fight the Demon King and re-seal the Sacred Realm, with no mention of a hero

Could TotK Imprisoning War and the LttP Imprisoning War be one and the same, with specific details being lost to time by the beginning of the game?

[veritasangel]

⋆ ｡⋆ fem pov ୨୧˚ warnings: none, age gap (not specified, but legal) ↣ {wc: 524}

older knight! simon - one︱two︱three︱four︱five︱six

Older Knight! Simon who’s no longer in his prime. Though, years of training remain with him. The muscle memory engrained, honed through decades of fighting. Yet, the King had decided it was time for Simon to lay down his shield, to relinquish the sword that had served him and the kingdom so faithfully. 

Simon longs to argue on it. He wants to plead his case and tell the King that he can still manage. He knew he was a powerful fighter, he could still best most of the younger knights, even with the aches that now linger in his bones.

And he almost does protest, nearly drops to his knees to beg, until the King speaks once more. Muttering something about a parting gift that leaves Simon speechless. The words all blur together as soon as the King mentions your name.

The King chuckles lightly at Simon’s surprise. “She is my eldest,” he begins, voice filled with affection. “Honestly? A fussy brat when it comes to marriage, too picky for her own good. Every suitor we’ve introduced has fallen short in her eyes. But she cannot evade marriage forever—I need to ensure she can lead this Kingdom when I am gone.”

“But, your majesty, I-”

“She will accept it.” the King interjects with certainty. “She doesn’t talk to me on these matters, but my beloved wife tells me that she is rather... fond of you, for whatever reason.”

Simon only met you a handful of times, at ceremonies or boring royal events. You were always friendly to him, of course, but he had never imagined it extended beyond mere courtesy.

The thought of laying down his sword no longer finds its way to his lips, silenced by the King’s proposition. Marriage was never in the cards for a man like him, let alone with you, the cherished princess of the realm.

But why, then, does his heart beat faster at the thought of you? Why does the notion not fill him with dread, but with something akin to anticipation?

Sensing Simon’s hesitation, the King continues, “If you wish, you may speak with her yourself. Hear her mind from her own lips. But I believe she will be pleased with this arrangement, as will I.”

The King doesn’t elaborate on that last part, but Simon understands the unspoken words. He was essentially born into the castle, his mother had been working for the royal family and he became a knight at a very young age. He’s been loyal to the Kingdom for decades and he knows the King trusts him implicitly, with his own life and, by extension, with yours.

The King’s handshake seals the pact, a smile playing on his lips. And whilst Simon’s thoughts were partly the reason, the King failed to mention one other thing. 

He conveniently forgot to tell Simon that you were a nightmare to handle. A tempest that no suitor had managed to yet tame. But Simon was a fighter, one that had won countless battles. If he can handle the bloodshed in war, surely he can face the storm that is you.

At least, the King hopes so.

༄ cod m.list

© veritasangel ↣ 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Demon King Headcanons

You have accepted the Demon King’s marriage proposal!

I wasn't planning on writing a second part, but some of you gave me ideas and I decided on short headcanons instead. The image of a big, buff, evil Overlord lovingly doing house chores for their human was too tempting.

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance

[Main Story]

The proposal, as you quickly found out, came as a surprise to everyone. Not even the King’s loyal butler knew of such intentions; he’d assumed they were finally going to destroy everything and everyone at once. To him, the dramatic scene of you and his Lord enveloped in flames was anything but a romantic confession. It was your final battle. So one might imagine the poor lizard’s confusion when the Demon King returned with you following behind. “S-sir?” He questioned meekly. The armored creature nodded at his servant. “It has been done. We’ll plan the wedding upon our arrival home.” The what? His baffled expression must’ve given him away, because the Demon continued: “What’re you gawking like that for? Didn’t I ask you earlier how humans forge a bond?” The butler stumbled to search for his words, swallowing dryly. “Well y-yes, your Majesty…I just didn’t expect it to be anything more than curiosity.”

The same speechless reaction repeated itself all the way to the Kingdom. Soldiers, diplomats, other monstrous entities of the unknown Land, they all greeted you in disbelief. So much, in fact, that you began to poke fun at their hesitant response: “I am his mortal enemy”, you’d announce with a dramatic bow. “Spouse! We talked about this!” the Demon Lord would quickly correct you, flustered.

Truth be told, you're not quite sure what made you accept this ridiculous offer. Perhaps a mixture of intrigue and disillusionment. The city you've dedicated yourself to stood no longer, burnt to a crisp along with its corruption and crookery. In a way, the monster had unshackled you from a responsibility you no longer wanted to bear. And if that wasn't enough to convince you, well, the sight of the Ruler himself kneeling before you certainly sealed the deal.

Although it may take a while for you to accept the idea that your worst adversary had actually been infatuated with you this entire time. Were there even any hints? During your last battle you nearly died. You'd crawled out of an enormous crater on your fours, bones shattered and ligaments torn. When you pointed this out to your groom-to-be, he stared at you in horror. "I had no idea humans were that fragile. I was trying to adjust my strength so as to not do any harm." You could only nod, patting away the sweat beads forming on your forehead. Uh huh. Maybe it's better you didn't experience his full range of attacks.

Ever since the devastating revelation, he's been extra careful when handling you. Sometimes he'll awkwardly hover his large hands above you, with a concentrated frown on his face. "What the hell are you doing?" you ask, eyeing him suspiciously. "I'm trying to be gentle." he'll answer. "You're not even touching me." Fair point, but it's better to be safe than sorry.

The Demon King will often ask you about customs from your world as a way to make you comfortable, just in case you get struck by the occasional homesickness. His Realm is very different from what you're used to, after all. Lamentably, his own years spent in the human world were not too fruitful from a cultural point of view. He was either busy stalking you or devouring the souls of the innocent. Now that he has nothing else to worry about, he will gladly listen and even do his best to actively participate.

You wake up shrouded in thick smoke. Overwhelmed by heavy déjà vu, you rush down the grand stairs, searching for the source of the fire. Are you being attacked? Enemies of the Demon King? You elbow yourself against the kitchen door, similar to when you left your home to find the city ablaze. The Demon Lord turns to face you, visibly overwhelmed and exhausted. You gawk at the scene unfolding before you and remember to close your mouth, mainly out of politeness. "It's too small. I'm afraid I cannot use it", he reveals timidly, holding a human spatula between his fingers to showcase the impractical size difference. You glance at the disastrous attempt behind him and manage to deduce he'd been trying to make breakfast. In an unspoken agreement, he steps back and allows you to take over.

"I'm surprised you let him burn down the kitchen", you mention to the butler once you get a moment to yourself. The scaly servant sighs, and theatrically lifts his clawed hands in hopelessness. "Pointless to argue with him when he's like this, (Y/N). In my entire life serving the Family, I've never witnessed a more stubborn leader." He points to the lavish portraits adorning the walls with a faint smile. "And, to put it frankly, he's obsessed with you. I've never seen him in a more deplorable state. Marrying a human?! The shame, the outrage!” he cries out. “No offense intended to you, of course. You must understand." You hum in agreement, a tad uncomfortable, yet sympathetic. "M-maybe it'll tone down after the wedding?" you suggest as encouragement. "Oh, no, I suspect it will only get worse", he bemoans in return. Then, he promptly straightens his back and resumes his duties.

You go on your own way, not wanting to burden the lizard in his work. As you cross the hallway, you find the Demon King himself scanning each room, somewhat agitated. He notices you and his features soften. "I was wondering where you'd vanished." You approach him with the words of the butler still ringing in your ears.

[sukunas-wife]

Sealed 2

1 3

“Year after year after year the hours pass and it never ends, I’ve been here for millennia is Ryomen even trying?” You sat down onto the pile of bones, skeletons supporting you the best they could. The Prison Realm had become your domain, you’d molded every bone and skeleton to do your work. Your elbow resting on the spine of skeleton your cheek pressing against your fist as you stared bored.

Looking down the pile of bones and skeletons holding up your throne that you had formed to match Sukuna’s you saw two Skeletons battling for your amusement. Sighing you slouched back in your throne, watching the two headed four armed skeleton using sharpened bones as spears, fighting a towering 6 armed Skelton. His arms like vices ready to grab and shove whatever into its gaping rib cage to crush it. “This needs more!” The two skeletons looked up at you, before the rumbling of the skeletal centaur could be heard, a centaur of bone, his torso with 4 arms, it held an extended spine as if it were a chain. Lower two arms ready to grab at anything, more specifically rip off the head and spine of its opponents.

“YES! THIS IS what we need!” You smacked the skeleton who stood near you on the back. His bones shaking as you leaned forward, you’d find out soon which of your creations was truly the strongest. “Let’s get this show started-“ it was quick blur of red and black before you were standing head tilted to the side as you stared irked at the man in front of you. “Do YOU KNOW WHAT YOU JUST DID.”

“PLEASE FORGIVE ME! I BEG FOR MERCY I SPENT MUCH OF MY LIFE LOOKING FOR THIS TREASURE THATS BEEN hidden away heating the tales of how the sourcerer’s of old time had wrongly imprisoned a Diety of Fertility separating her from her son. I just come to beg and ask you give my wife your blessing to have a child were old in age but she’s always prayed and begged. I’ve run out of hope until i heard you tale, i beg and hoped you’d have mercy- Sit up” was all you said. The man went from groveling to sitting back on his heels. Sighing the conflict inside of you was great. You looked around tucking your arms into the sleeves of your worn Kimono. “Bring me your wife,” you looked up through the canopy of the trees you see the sun at mid day, “you have two sunsets and then I leave.” The man quickly bowed again at your feet thanking you before running off. You kicked the prison realm box “Damnit who won!” You snatched it up, the air was familiar, you started to look around. The reason it was so familiar was because it wasn’t to far from where you had been sealed. The skeletal remains of the sourcerers made you seethe. You found the remains of the man who sealed you grabbing his skull with your free hand making it look at you, “my child my husband,” you crushed it without fail, “you took it all from me and now everyone will pay.” Th tears falling down were hot. Dropping the remains you started your first technique “Reanimate.” A wave of purple radiated from you, hitting every border of the palace. Skeletal remains shaking and coming together to stand, “Get this place back into shape.” They started moving, you made your way inside the palace the inside help had been reanimated also, your ladies in waiting now remains, standing beside you as you enter “Find fabric I need new robes.” They rushed off and you made it to your old room, the massive bed your son had fallen off many times when he would try to sleep with you and his dad. The wardrobe filled with your husband’s old robes. The room was dusty and smelt humid, shoving the window open you tried not to cry, on the window sill was a talisman Sukuna had created for Yuji. Sniffling you turned your head, finding a small blanket and stuffed Tiger doll Yuji carried around that morning. A gift for his 2nd birthday that he loved and it showed on the tigers rugged appearance.

“My Yuji..” your faint whisper sounding so loud in the silence as you ran your fingers of the stuffed doll holding it close to your chest as you made your way around the room planning your moves. Your plans had always been to follow in similar steps to Sukuna. Except that you’d be known for good to balance out the evil perspective they had of your husband. First, fix your palace. Second, create miracles in the closest town or village to make profit and move into a bigger city to improve profits. Find wherever Sukuna had been sealed away, and break him free. Find Yuji and take him back from this cruel world.

❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️

It’s been over 100 more years and you’d grown accustomed to the changing in technology and times, passing the crowds into your shrine you smiled ruffling the heads of kids who smiled up at you, rubbing the plump bellies of pregnant women you passed and “blessing” the sick with instant health with simply laying a hand on them and smiling kindly.

Entering your shrine for the last time your Gentlemen in waiting was packing up what was left. The last thing left was the main room where your wide throne sat, you’d be leaving it being to your followers, the cushions you provided for your followers during your sessions. “Morí.” You called out and he came from the room he was in bowing and holding his hands out in front of him. “Yes Lady Y/n?”

“Morinozuka, we’re leaving tonight to Sendai City. The mark of my binding vow is burning more, but are you sure that’s where we need to go?”

“Yes Lady Y/n.” He spoke not looking up from his bow. You nodded, “then it’s final.”

❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️

“So this is the place?” You turned to Morí and he nodded. “It’s not as lavish but this is the closest we can get… Your excellency.. I strongly recommend you continue to hide your cursed energy until I suggest otherwise.” You nodded getting out of the car “Very well, I will.”

It was morning when you had arrived, standing in front of the door to the house you looked over an elder man was walking out of his house he looked over and you smiled at him and he had a very faint twitch of his lip. Until a man with pink hair came out, follows by a woman with black hair and you felt it. The pulse of cursed energy and instinctively you grabbed Mori by his robes and pulled him towards you, “That woman, she’s no woman that- is the carrier of your child.” You head snapped instantly to him, “The father of my child, that’s the sorcerer who knew Sukuna, and he is going to mother my child?” Your face showing your exact emotions Mori placing a hand over yours, “Lady Y/n, please recollect your thoughts. I can assure you he will NOT be mothering your child, and her husband will not be fathering him either.” Letting go of his robes you nodded. Looking over your shoulder you watched the couple get into a car the elder man scowling when they started to drive away.

Turning to look at you he tucked his arms behind his back walking over, “Good Morning I’m L/n Y/n.” You greeted bowing after you moved closer, he dismissed you with a wave of your hand. “Morning, Wasuke Itadori.” He cocked a brow and looked over at your house, “It’s been up for sale for a long time. Almost 3 years before someone has moved in.” You looked back at your house, “I moved in to get closer to work. I thought it was just a blessing for everything to line up so perfectly.”

He nodded, “Well, blessings only go so far here. My son’s wife is something I’d consider to be a curse.” You nodded, “oddly enough I wouldn’t disagree. I know a snake when I see one and from a brief glance I wouldn’t trust her at all.”

He nodded, “Have a good day moving in, if you need help my son and his wife will be returning soon. I’m sure either of them would be willing to help with any problems.”

“Have a good day Mr.Itadori.” You bowed your head slightly and you both went separate ways.

“Mori,” you sighed entering your house “count these days.”

[lokisgoodgirl]

Metal & Leather [Loki Odinson x Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Prince Loki can't get to you soon enough after an arduous battle. (Yes, another one of those!😇) w/c 1.2k Warnings: Minors DNI. Smut/Fluff. Mild angst. Mild descriptions of injury. Loki x female reader.

The Einherjar’s roar swells higher, heating the cool night air. You run to your balcony overlooking the balustrade as Loki strides towards his mother and father standing poised at the furthest reach, waiting to welcome him: to congratulate him.

The crowds go crazy as Odin hands him something. One abrupt bow, Loki wrote in his letter from the victorious battlefield. One abrupt bow, and I make for my true reward without delay. Do not come to the ceremony. The underline had ripped the paper.

“Is that an order?” you’d asked the empty room while you imagined the wolfish glint of his smile as he wrote it. And now, he was finally here. He was finally home. The nights were long on the realm’s furthest battlefields, and although his victory had been by all accounts swift it still took weeks. Thirteen, to be exact.

Now, you can see the flutter of his cape as he makes a show of turning and striding from the dais where Odin and Frigga stand. He’s coming.

You turn, perching on the stone. You didn’t bother getting dressed properly, just a chiffon open-fronted robe tied loose at the waist. Warm air sighs over your skin as you wait, and wait. The main event is right here: and it starts in five…four…three— There’s an abrupt knock at the door. “Come,” you call sweetly. Loki pushes it open. His chin is lowered to the glint of his metal breastplate, his shadowed eyes swimming with promise in the flickering gloom. The hand curled around the ceremonial spear he just received from Odin tightens when he sees you, and his lips curl in a smile. Dark hair spills over his exaggerated, armour-clad shoulders and with a low whisper, the spear vanishes.

“The demon-brothels of Musselheim left much to be desired,” Loki sniffs with a sarcasm that can’t mask the affection in his eyes. “Heated in the most inconvenient of ways.” You search his face, noting the glint of his eyes and the twitch of his thin lips. “You’re terrible.”

He strides across the room, cape blooming like ink through water, and gathers you in his arms. “And I’m yours,” he replies as he dips and lifts your legs around his waist. "Aren't you glad, darling? In all my terrible, terrible glory."

The heat still hangs on his leathers from the Bifrost.

His lips slam into yours at force, the thud of his boots and the crisp rustle of his cloak making your thighs tighten. He nudges you higher, and eager fingers slip past his temples, fisting his hair, noting the ghost of bruises that shadow his face. Loki’s fingers pull at the ribbons holding your robe together, their slither between his calloused fingers and the nip of Asgard’s night air against your nipples flooding your brain. He’s home, he’s here, he’s safe. Thank you; thank you.

Your pussy slips against the metal buckle flush to his abdomen, and Loki’s kiss wanes. He pulls back as you’re rested on the wide flat of the balcony wall, towering over you like the victorious god he is. You reach to brush his tabard aside, but a hand flies out to stop it.

“No,” he says hoarsely, and for the first time you see the raw abrasions on his knuckles, the purple cloud edging from his wrist armour. He trails a finger down the valley of your throat, between the swell of your breasts. “My love..” The softness of his voice so at odds with the battle-weary figure he cuts. He never thinks you want him like this. Not at first: coated in the evidence of his destruction. You reach tentatively for his leathers, and this time he lets you brush the flap aside. Loki of Asgard stiffens as you unlace him, pulling him closer, kissing him deep. “My love,” you whisper against his heated, gritty skin. A shiver wrenches through him. When Loki returns from war, all the lust he’s re-directed bubbles over. This time is no different. You feel his fingers run over your hair, grabbing a clutch, tilting your head back. Loki’s mouth descends on your exposed neck: biting, sucking, groaning his need for you against the delicate, willing flesh. There’s a smack of metal against leather, a grunt as he positions himself between your spread legs. The balcony stone scrapes against the back of your thighs as he places a palm on your lower spine, protecting you from the drop. And then, he’s inside you. His cock claims the deepest part of you, and Loki swears as he bottoms out with a decisive thrust.

With one hand hanging against his neck, and the other gripping the belt slung over his shoulder, you ride the devastating thrusts he delivers with each jangling snap of his hips. Loki’s cock, and his love, are the missing pieces of you—the parts he takes whenever he leaves to fulfil his duty. But this is his duty, and you both know it. Ragged gasps scrape from Loki’s throat, his fingertips clawing against your back so desperately you know the truth of his desire will be marked on you by the night’s end. Purple, blue; just like the evidence of violence painted on his skin.

He curls close, and you wrap both arms around his neck, pulling the god’s face closer into the curve of your shoulder.

Loki’s illusion has wavered. His hair is matted, crisped with sweat and battle and bifrost and you inhale deeply, willing your love for him to wash it all away. His thrusts are sloppy now, out of time with the fiery grunts blasting against the shell of your ear. He smells like metal, and leather – and gods, you never want anything else.

“I’ll always come home to you,” he says, and you know he’s picturing the enemies he had to slay to get here. He never tells you everything of what he’s seen—but it changes him. It makes his love fiercer. The crowd packing the balustrade cheers at the conclusion of some speech: Thor’s, probably. But Loki’s body draws like a bow and you feel the tighten of his jaw against your neck. “I can’t stop it,” he pants, and you buck harder against him. There will be time for your pleasure later—Loki will make sure of it. In the baths, in the bed you share, in the blankets and pillows strewn through slats of amber sunlight on the endless days with him by your side. For now, in the torch-lit gloom where he wears the stains of hard-won victory, he needs this: he needs you. And right now, your pleasure is bringing his home.

The tunic, warm from your friction, scrapes your inner thighs as he seals his cock inside you once, twice, three times. On the fourth, he holds the throbbing tip at the entrance to your slit, his wild eyes meeting yours. “All for you,” he gasps, and his eyebrows peak.

Everything: he means everything. The sacrifice, the vulnerability he shares— the fact you’d only need to ask and he would tear the sky down in your name. Your lips touch, and he groans happily as he sinks inside a final, lingering time.

The force of his cum hits the back of your cunt and his whole body tightens. A tremble works through him while the grip on your back falters, and his knees wobble. He pulls you close, groaning his climax into your mouth; the heat of his breath and the fury of his love rippling across every nerve in your body. Below, drums begin: lyres, chanting, prayer. “You’re home,” you whisper, slotting your nose at the side of his. “You’re safe.” “Home,” he murmurs as the cool metal at his abdomen chills your flushed skin. He thrusts a final, gentle time, and you cross your ankles at his lower back, sealing him close. Loki smiles, “That’s all I ever wanted.”

❤️Tags in comments! x Next story will be Wednesday 18 Sept as I'm on holiday next week🌄

[fukcnoplease]

Things always go wrong

Pt2 Pt3 Pt4 Pt5

Danny paced the halls of pariah dark’s castle, well his castle but even after a few years he wasn't used to that, as Frostbite watched in silence. His king isn't usually this restless before a council meeting but his distress was understandable. As his eighteenth birthday approached the council was getting more and more pushy for Danny to take up his role as king. Frostbite had used his leeway to allow the young king time to grow up and in the four years since his first transformation he had only been called to council a handful of times. It was an impressive feat less because they needed a king and more because the observers were anxious to keep the young king on a leash. 

This council meeting was called hastily as the anti-ecto laws had been passed recently and the GIW as well as the Fenton parents had become bolder in their pursuit of ghosts. The Fentons had almost captured one of Danny's rogues and it was too close of a call for the council to overlook. 

On top of that Dani was supposed to be coming home today. The young clone had taken to traveling the world as soon as she was free to. Her unstable nature had forced her home only a month after departing and it had taken months to convince Danny to let her go off alone again. Her destabilization had been easy to explain, as a clone she had been created without a ghost core and with continual use of her powers and no way to replenish her energy she had used her own body's ectoplasm to feed her powers. Frostbite was unsure if she would ever form her own core as her creation was unique but Danny had pushed. The idea Danny had come up with was to take a piece of his own core and give it to Dani, maybe jump-starting her own core cultivation in the process.

After defeating pariah dark Danny had begun absorbing his core, a way of proving his claim to the throne Frostbite had explained, and with it his own core had almost doubled in power. While unstable itself as it was still settling into its new power, it was possible to take a sliver and still keep the core at a healthy level. If Danny pushed for a bigger piece than strictly necessary, well no one but Frostbite would ever know that.

The council had rioted at another ghost having a piece of the king's core, it was usual for families to share cores in times of need but a king having a royal family was unheard of. Some of the council was against it all together and some were quick to try and coronate Dani a princess. Danny did his best to shield her from the council and made her promise to visit at least once every few months and call weekly. It had been a battle but Dani had accepted conditions as well as a phone Tucker had made for her. Then she was off, traveling the world and bringing back souvenirs and stories. 

A couple years had passed like that and they had finally settled into a comfortable rhythm. A rhythm rudely interrupted by Danny’s looming birthday and his parents lack of self control. He was supposed to be at Sam’s house, ready to hug Dani when she arrived and with a whole day of movie marathons and nachos planned. Instead he was stuck pacing his entrance hall as Sam kept him updated on the happenings in the living realm. 

“Your majesty,” Frostbite rumbled, “perhaps it is time you enter the council’s chamber. An intermission can only last so long.”

The monarch hummed but didnt stop pacing. Every turn caused his layered cape to billow behind him in a strange way, as if it was floating underwater rather than being manipulated by wind. The king's crown had dulled from a fiery bonfire into a thin misty glow that wrapped in a circle over his head. Jazz would tease him for it, ‘It looks like the aurora borealis, your love of the sky bleeds into everything doesn't it?’ and she was right, though he would never admit it. Even as he combed his hand through his hair and the crown, the misty fire dissipating around his hand before gathering again, it still twinkled as if far away stars were shining in the crowns light. 

Danny spared little thought to his regalia as he paced. A wave of dread had come over him midway through the arguing and he had called a pause so they could recollect themselves. He had tried to check in with Sam but she wasn't responding. He had heard nothing from Dani either and something deep within him was screaming something was wrong. He couldn't abandon a council meeting on a hunch and honestly it was one of the few times he didn't want to have to abandon the council meeting. If only because it would mean nothing was wrong.

Dani had had some close calls over the years and while she had really come into her powers she wasn't as strong as Danny and the one time she had been hit by Maddie Fenton still held fresh in Danny’s mind.

His phone buzzed.

Sam had replied.

Eco-Terrorist: We cant find Dani

It was the only message Danny needed before he was off. Ripping a hole in the dimension himself as he crossed back to his preferred plane. He barely noticed Frostbites thoughtful hum as he moved to bring the news of the king's departure to the council.

The precious seconds Danny took to arrive at Sam’s house were spent spiraling as to all the worst things that could have happened. The fear doubled as he stepped through Sam’s wall to find her holding Dani’s phone and pacing herself. Tucker sat at the desk scouring what looked like security cameras on his laptop as Danny popped back into view.

If Sam yelped it was only because she was too stressed to try and cover it up.

“We found her phone in Amity Park, she hadn't been responding and it had been almost an hour since she was supposed to show up.” Sam stressed, she was flexing her hands around the phone. 

“Since she usually messages us if she is going to be late we decided to check if everything was alright. When we saw she was in the park and hadnt move in a while. We left immediately.” Tucker added. He had a wobble to his voice and a shine to his eyes. Danny gritted his teeth. “All we found was this.” Sam said as she threw Dani’s phone on the bed as if it had personally been the thing to commit the crime and went back to pacing, flexing her hands in and out of fists.

“Do we have any security footage that might help?” Danny asked. 

“Ive been looking but the park doesnt have much cctv except around the perimeter or playground. Its been useless. All Ive seen is the Fenton-mobile.” Tucker paused, Danny could hear him swallow as the same thought passed through all their heads. “You… you dont think…” 

“Ill go check the lab.” Danny said before he vanished. Already making his way through town as Sam and Tucker raced to follow him. 

It didnt take long for Danny to make it to his house, the ghost shields were down but the Fenton-mobile was nowhere to be seen. It gave Danny little hope but he made his way down to the basement, transforming into his human form just in case. He made his way through his kitchen and down the stairs where he looked into the lab and into his worst fear.

Dani lay still on a metal table, restraints on her arms and legs and waist as a trickle of ectoplasm dripped from her left arm onto the floor. She wasnt even in her ghost form. He jumped the stairs and made it to her in two strides. 

“Dani? Can you hear me?” Her head was lolled to the side but her eyes were open, if only barely. She blinked and squirmed slightly, making a grumbling sound before going still again. She was alive, likely drugged, definitely bleeding out. Her arm had a gash in it and two tubes attached to needles lay on the floor beside her. The tubes were tangled and thrown about, as if someone had tripped on them and then let them be. Rage bubbled within Danny but he forced himself to focus. He would not let Dani bleed out because he was too busy seething at his parents. He grabbed whatever he could use as medical supplies and wrapped Dani’s arm before trying to break her restraint.

Electricity coursed through him and he cursed. Refusing to let panic take over he turned to his parents computer instead. There had to be something that could undo the restraints and regardless he had to wipe whatever information they had on Dani. What he found was a conversation log of Maddie Fenton and an Agent W discussing payment and proper handover specifications for a ‘perfect specimen’ Maddie had found. The money was staggering and Danny’s rage almost made him crush the mouse he was holding. 

At one point, Sam had offered up the idea of destroying the lab and joining Jazz at Gotham U where she had chosen to go for college. They had toyed with the idea, saying it was for the future or it was a last resort, but ultimately never gone through with it. It was a bad idea to drag a meta equivalent to Gotham and in all honesty, Danny wasnt comfortable leaving Amity. He hated leaving the town limits even if necessary, he couldnt imagine choosing to live somewhere else. But right now, staring at his bleary, injured, unstable sister, he decided he would have to. 

His rogues would be pissed and he didnt really have a solid plan but he refused to let this happen again. To anyone.

It was little hassle to find the unlock to the restraints and erase the computer completely. His parents didn't trust the cloud and the physical copies they had would be lost in the fire. Tucker had copies of everything anyway. Dani moved to sit up but really only managed to roll off the table. Danny caught and he shared some of his ectoplasm to try and help her heal. It wasnt much but she started to regain lucidity.

“Danny?” she whispered and Danny hummed in response. Their cores hummed at each other, the harmony encouraging her healing. A boom rattled the building, it was far away but it snapped Danny back to the present. They didnt have time to sit there, he didnt know when his parents would be back and he needed to leave. 

He laid Dani on the floor as he went around and dismantled as many things as he could, leaving the vulnerable pieces in the open. Finally he turned to take the ectoplasm filter that powered the entire house. When he ripped it off its mantle alarms started blaring and he turned and grabbed Dani, hauling her up into his arms as he ran up the stairs. He heard her giggle something about bumpy rides and he was out the door and barrelling towards his beat up car parked across the street. 

Jazz had given it to him for his sixteenth birthday. Apparently she had originally planned to buy it for herself for her move to Gotham but Sam had managed to convince her parents to buy Jazz a brand new car. Something about the public transportation system being dangerous and it being the first thing Sam had asked for that had been manageable. It was beat up and an old red but Danny loved the car and used it often. He worried he would have had to keep his parents away from it, in case they try and ghost proof it but they never even noticed it. He parked it across the street and they just assumed it was the neighbors. No one had lived in the houses around them for years.

He shoved Dani into the passenger side before hoping the hood and sliding into the drivers seat. He didnt know he could do that.

Shoving his key into the ignition the engine roared to life. He managed to get down the street before his house exploded. The shockwave sent the car forward and he managed to catch Dani’s head before it met the dash. His windows rattled but none of them broke, a small victory he thought. 

His mind flashed to all the things he had had in his room, his home. His memories, his souvenirs from Dani, all his space and nasa memorabilia, all his clothes and any pictures he thought were important. His family, his friends, his school, his only solid portal to the Infinite Realm. 

His emergency supplies.

“Fuck.” he whispered as he kept driving. Dani giggled and said something like ‘language’ but Danny was too busy swerving through traffic to hear her. His phone buzzed and he jolted, he maneuvered to pull it from his pocket as he tried to check it only to barely miss an oncoming car and drop it into the footwell of Dani’s seat. He cursed again and kept driving. He wasnt going to stop until he was well and out of Amity. He focused on driving and harmonizing with Dani as he drove. 

As they raced across Amity his core began to pulse with panic. The lingering pain from losing his home exploding into waves of fear.

He wasnt stopping. The pulsing grew more intense and Dani whimpered in her sleep. He tried to calm down but something felt so intrinsically wrong with leaving and his core felt like it was going to burst.

The pressure grew as they got closer and closer to Amity’s border and as they crossed it something in Danny popped. 

He almost blacked out from the pain. The car swerving as he tried to regain control of himself. Something had broken and it felt like he was tilted on an axis. He could barely see and was forced to pull over. His breathes came in short painful gasps and he bit back a scream. He was trying to ride through the pain when his phone rang. Grasping for it he picked up and brought it to his ear.

“Danny? We saw the explosion, are you ok? Did you find Dani?” Sam said, crackling over the phone.

“Mhm. Dani is with me. We are going to Gotham.” Pain cracked his voice as he struggled to breathe. “ ‘s not safe. Need Jazz.” Was all he could manage before he was heaving.

“Danny! Stay where you are. We have ectoshots with us and we can-” Sam was cut off by an explosion behind Danny’s car. He whipped around to see a white van crashing through traffic. Danny slammed his foot on the gas and turned back to the road. The pain in his chest dulled as his desperation to protect Dani slammed back in full force. 

“Meet. In. Gotham.” Was all he could growl before he hung up the phone and drove in what he hoped was the direction north east. 

~~

currently obsessing over dpxdc shenanigans

I just love seeing danny act like a cornered animal

[deyisacherry]

TSAMS Cult Of The Lamb AU

Solar as The Lamb

Nexus/Moon as The One Who Waits. Narinder, Bishop of Death

Lunar as Leshy, Bishop of Chaos

Earth as Heket, Bishop of Famine

Sun as Kallamar, Bishop of Pestilence

KillCode/KC as Shamura, Bishop of War and Wisdom

A lamb, Solar, the last of his kind, was brought before the 4 Bishops of the Old Faith, KillCode, Sun, Earth and Lunar, to be sacrificed, fearing the prophecy that he would release The One Who Waits, Nexus the God of Death.

Upon opening his eyes after believing he would die forever, the lamb finds himself in the realm of The One Who Waits. He tasks him with the mission of starting a cult in his name, and defeating the Bishops of the Old Faith to be freed from his chains. Thus, he grants him his crown, the Red Crown that would give him powers. Finally he promises him that no matter how many times he dies on his journey, he will always revive him to continue his duties.

Solar spent a long time starting the cult, indoctrinating followers, defeating heretics and beasts, gaining the faith that would make him stronger and therefore, make Nexus stronger.

Little by little, he defeated each Bishop.

Lunar, Earth, Sun, KillCode.

“Five becomes four, becomes three, becomes two, becomes one, becomes nothing.”

Nexus was chained in his realm for defying his brothers by wanting to manipulate life as well as death. Not before giving battle. Lunar lost his eyes, Earth his throat, Sun his rays, KillCode part of his skull.

See no evil. Speak no evil. Hear no evil. Think no evil. Do no evil.

After the defeat of the eldest of the siblings, Nexus tells Solar that it is time to return the Red Crown and leave him completely free, to reign as was his right.

Solar...

He did not accept.

Fearing to die after giving up the Red Crown, as his last battle, the lamb decides to face Nexus. Brother of the Bishops of the Old Faith.

Back then known as Moon.

Solar defeats him. And spares his life, informing him that from now on he will be part of his cult, as the new God of Death.

Still, as the next mission entrusted by ????, the lamb faces the Bishops once again, bringing them out of the afterlife and just like with their brother, turning them into followers of his cult.

[magpie-murder]

it'd be wild if they gave asgard's citizens phones in marvel i bet they'd have the best drama

20 notes

👴🏻 is-odin-dead-yet

No.

#date: 2023/11/23 #when will he croak #i've been running this blog for centuries #frigga for allfather #kick the bucket already i'm getting bored of posting here

112 notes

⛈️ god-of-thunder

I come to Tumblr with a regretful update. As you may know, my family and our fiercest warriors have been traveling between realms in search of our stolen relics.

While attempting to recover one, my brother lost his life in battle while protecting us. He shielded me with his body. My brother died a hero.

einherjarl-deactivated20231120

May he reach Folkvangr. My deepest condolences. But I thought Baldur was impervious to all harm...?

⛈️ god-of-thunder

It was Loki. :( I'm devastated.

einherjarl-deactivated20231120

Oh.

🐍 magic-theatre

is that all you can muster? "oh." you thought i was dead, and that's it? that's all you have? what do you mean by that? let's talk. :)

⛈️ god-of-thunder

You're alive? Where are you?

⛈️ god-of-thunder

Wait, what happened to @einherjarl? He deactivated?

⛈️ god-of-thunder

Loki?

23,034 notes

🎨 bragis-apprentice

Just finished custom making this handle

#metalwork #artists on tumblr #double sided axe #my art

2 notes

⚔️ aesir-warrior-tournament

⚡️LIGHTNING ROUND⚡️

einherjarl-deactivated20231120

?

einherjarl-deactivated20231120

Lady Sif is not one of The Warriors Three. It says it in the name. There are three of them. Not four.

Correct this.

✨️ the-dashingest

I voted for Sif.

🪓 valiant-festivals

I voted for Sif.

🔺️ grim-warrior

I voted for Sif.

✨️ the-dashingest

Wait, Hogun? But you didn't tell us you had a phone?

🔺️ grim-warrior

I don't.

#lady sif propaganda #lightning round #poll reblog #only one more round after this! #i'm so glad lady sif doesn't have tumblr lol #i hope you guys dont mind that a mortal is running this blog btw #i really didnt expect any of you to see this 😬 #and srry for the reblog spam #also hogun lol

1,879 notes

🐍 magic-theatre

i see your thirst edits, you sick freaks.

#start tagging me in them #and/or sending them to me

689 notes

⛵️ modern-technologist Follow

umm i'm in ohio to visit my parents and there's like. um . a giant wolf running alongside my car? i'd call animal control but this thing is ginormous and i don't think that would do anything.

it doesnt have a leash or anything (obv its bigger than my car) but it's covered in chains. what do i do??

@identifying-d𝚘gs-in-posts ??

🐕 identifying-dogs-in-posts Follow

Fenrir Lokison?

#😨

197 notes

✨️ the-dashingest

I really don't think Loki is that bad. Sure, he's had a rocky history, but I don't think he's done anything worthy of scorn. Besides, hasn't he just died and come back or something like that, anyway? He has a blank slate, in my book.

#is it just me? #i hear people saying we should banish or kill him #i find that idea preposterous #he's just misunderstood

208 notes

einherjarl-deactivated20231120

I'm not going to @ them, but ugh... Someone I'm acquainted with just died in battle, and honestly? I'm so relieved. Is that terrible? Don't answer that, I know that it is. I'll probably delete this in a few hours.

🐍 magic-theatre

that's what you get for vagueing.

cowards don't go to valhalla.

10,560 notes

🔮 alchemist-aura Follow Sponsored with Blaze 🔥

buy my potions! i'm having a Thor's Day sale! you can get an invisibility concoction for only 3 gold today! cheapest prices in the market! don't let that einar guy force you to pay 230 gold for a wyvern tooth when you can purchase an authentic one HERE from my brand new online shop

#alchemists on tumblr #all natural potions #freelance potion seller #potion grinds #handmade potions #potionmaker #potion seller #invisibility potion #wyvern tooth #einar has competition #stay hustling 💪 #please check out my shop link i worked really hard on it #:) #:))

[gumbootillustrations]

divine warriors loredump!

so yeah, the divine warriors! admittedly, i'm fascinated by them - i rlly rlly wish that we'd gotten to see more of them + their powers/domains/abilities in mcd, especially considering that they're a driving force behind the plot. so, i've gone ahead and done some redesigns for the sigils (above) and expanded on the domains and abilities of the divine warriors within the context of ashes, ashes.

more under the cut!

irene retains her matron title. for her domains, i rlly wanted to lean into her being a deity of life and family; as such, her official domains are  life, light, healing, childbirth and parenthood, fertility, marriage, tradition, beauty, and romantic/familial/platonic love. menphia also has domains over aspects of love (namely over sexual/carnal/manic love), but i wanted them to sort of have an aphrodite ourania (irene) and aphrodite pandemos (menphia) sort of vibe. in terms of the abilites that her relic gives its wielders, its a lot of what's seen in canon mcd: lots of healing and light abilities, but also some dimensional manipulation and time manipulation stuff thrown in there for the shits and giggles.

for shad, i rlly wanted to play into him being both a mirror and a foil for irene. where irene creates, he destroys; where irene brings life, he brings death. his official domains are that of death, darkness, chaos, the afterlife, change, rot and decay, the Nether, bloodshed, and madness. although he's also a war deity like menphia (and, to an extent, esmund and xavier), he's mostly associated with the worst bits of battle - the blood, the rot, the awful awful deaths, that sort of thing. his relic grants its wielders a lot of destruction-associated powers like disintegration and rot/plague/death stuff, but also some shadow and blood manipulation as well.

like a lot of other folks, i felt like enki was the best fit for a knowledge deity. he looks after scholars, librarians, witches, and inventors; officially, his domains are those of knowledge, air, magick, prophecy, the weather, winter, reason, and lightning. from here, you'll start to see pretty much all the warriors having some sort of like. elemental association? is the best way i can put it. i've sort of based it off of the minor arcana of the tarot; the suit of swords, which is associated with air, is the suit of knowledge and the mental realm, which i thought was fitting for enki. enki is also one of the four seasonal divine warriors (the others being esmund, menphia, and kul'zak); he gets winter, mostly because of his centre of worship being in gal'ruk. wielders of his relic get air and weather manipulation powers, as well as powers related to memory and access to witchcraft (if they aren't witches already). they also gain clairvoyance.

esmund! again with the tarot symbolism; esmund is associated with the element of earth and the physical world, hence the mountain in his sigil. his domains are those of protection, earth, wealth, autumn, boundaries, earthquakes, guardhood, and the harvest. the domain over the harvest might seem a little left field but it makes sense i promise! i sort of saw esmund's association with the harvest not only being because of him being an earth deity, but also because i feel like being able to provide is a form of protection, and given the setting of mcd, i feel like being able to provide a good harvest is a part of that. this is also why he is associated with autumn. regarding the abilities that his relic provides, there's a lot of earth manipulation and barrier/force field creation stuff in there; his relic wielders are also freakishly stronger and more durable than those who wield other relics, sort of playing into esmund himself being a tank.

i changed menphia's title to 'the conqueror' because i thought it'd be a bit more fitting for her, especially considering how i'm working tu'la in ashes, ashes (more on that later). i also changed her colour scheme to more of a blue/copper theme despite her being a fire goddess - i thought it was neat, considering that blue flames are those that burn the hottest. her domains are those of warfare (the glorious bits), fire, soldiers, political power, summer, passion and courage, festivals and celebrations, and sexual/carnal/manic love. i'm still not suuuper sure on the abilities that her relic gives its wielders, but there's definitely some pyrokinesis and emotion/heat manipulation, along with some combat-specific foresight in there. i'm open to suggestions!

nothing much really changes regarding kul'zak. he's a nature deity and watches over journeymen and particularly sailors, given that he's a water/ocean deity; he's often worshipped by pirates. officially, his domains are travellers, water, animals, the wilderness, the cardinal directions and navigation, hunting, and spring. i really wanted to lean into him being a man of the wilderness and not really having a home in urban environments. as such, his relic grants its wielders a lot of wilderness-based abilities, like shapeshifting, water and plant manipulation, and camouflage, with a bit of teleportation in there for all your wandering needs.

xavier is probably the divine warrior that i've changed the most. first off, he becomes a divine warrior in ashes, ashes where he isn't in canon mcd. i also really wanted to lean into him being the founder of the jury of nine, hence his title - the justiciar. he's associated with the domains of guardhood (along with esmund), loyalty, metal and metalworkers, justice, balance and order, peace, brotherhood, devotion, and artisans. where esmund looks after the more physical side of being a guard (being your lord's shield and spear, aka the protection side of things), xavier looks after the more emotional side of being a guard - the devotion to your lord and the comradery that you share with your fellows. his relic's abilities capitalise on that, with its wielders being able to both amplify and nullify the magick of the people they're fighting alongside/against. there's also a bit of metal manipulation and a lot of supportive magick in there too.

and, as a fun little tidbit - a lineup of the divine warriors! (the layout is inspired by @star-boi0720 - the way you lay out your drawings like this is mint as 🤩)

i'm still not suuuper happy w kul'zak or irene's designs but i'll get there in the end i guess :)

[the20thangel]

The Dragon and Raven

Chapter 7 (The Battle of Rook's Rest)

Chapter Summary: The Greens have made their move; it's time for the Blacks to defend. Aemma and Benjicot will lead their men in supporting Princess Rhaenys.

Note: There will be spoilers if you have yet to read the books or see ep 4.

Tags: Fluff with angst

Word Count: 2766 words

Keep track of the story: Masterlist

A war council was immediately called, and Aemma was frustrated. She barely had enough time to enjoy her night with her husband before the greens had to ruin it. As she waited for the council to start, Benji’s hand caressed her inner thigh, trying to relax her and ground himself. Rhaenyra walks into the room, prompting everyone to rise and bow to her before sitting back down in their seats. Rhaenyra sits at the top of the table as she signals for Jacaerys to start the meeting. 

Jace clears his throat, “We apologize for the early morning, but we received a letter from Lord Staunton, stating that the greens, specifically Criston Cole, have murdered Lord Darlyn and taken hold of his castle in Aegon’s name. He has pleaded for help to free him from their clutches, promising to join us in the fight for the Iron Throne should we succeed.” 

Everyone looked at each other tensely as the letter’s contents were read to the room. Aemma felt that something was not quite right. Why would the greens ransack Duskendale? She assumed they would have tried to avenge little Jaehaerys instead. Poor Jaehaerys, the little boy, was more Heleana than Aegon, another innocent lost to this war because of Queen Alicent’s delusions, thought Aemma as she closed her eyes. Benji, seeing his wife’s distress, squeezed her thighs, trying to ground her, receiving a slight grin. 

Aemma took a small breath and asked what the council was thinking, “Are we going to answer the call? This sounds like a trap…”  

Rhaenyra nodded. “Indeed, but trap or no trap, we need to show the people that we will support them in their struggles and not sweep away or ignore them. I will not start my reign ignoring my people like my father…. I loved my father, but he tended to ignore his oath as a protector of the realm.” 

The only one who outwardly agreed with the Queen’s statement was Daemon, who was always the one with first experience in those situations. 

“Who will be sent out to liberate Lord Staunton and his people?” asked Cregan, turning to the council, asking them more than the queen. 

Rhaenys raised her head proudly, “I will go in the queen’s name to liberate them; Meleys is one of the fastest and largest dragons we have.” 

As Rhaenyra fully agreed, four others did not agree Jacaerys, Aemma, Balea, and Corlys. They could not deny the Red Queen’s power, but they thought it was too risky to send just one dragon. 

“ Mother, I think we need to send more than one dragon… I do not doubt Meley’s power… but if Vhagar is there…having two or three dragons against one… it can ensure we finally get Aemond and avenge Luke.” Explained Aemma, knowing how to play her mother; if she saw it as the plan to get Aemond, she would be more easily influenced to allow other dragons to go and support her grandmother. 

“Yes, but sending three dragons would prove too risky, princess. Should the green knights harm a dragon, it will cause the possibility of losing more allies and dragons.” countered the knight representing the Vale. 

Aemma huffed; these knights have never seen dragons up close or the power of them. She understood their worries, but if they lost Meleys and Rhaenys, they would lose a significant advantage on the greens. 

“Then we don’t send the dragons alone. Allow me and my men to be the ground support for the dragons,” replied Benjioct, staring at the knight, tempting him to counter back. 

The Knight wisely bowed his head and returned his attention to the queen, who was trying not to smile at her good-son. 

Daemon agreed, “Then, with the Blackwood knights, we need to send another giant dragon and one of our juveniles; I wil-” 

“ Doar, Kepa , I will accompany my grandmother and husband. Sliverwing, is larger than Caraxes and can take on Vhagar if need be.” Countered Aemma, holding Benji's hand and quickly squeezing it. 

As much as both Rhaenyra and Daemon wanted to argue, they could not; Aemma made valid arguments on why Sliverwing should go and not Caraxes. Rhaenyra nodded as she turned to Baela and Jace, the only ones with Juveniles. 

Baela, noticing, quickly answered, “I will go with my cousin to protect our grandmother-” 

“No!” exclaimed Daemon, “I will not send out two of my three daughters!” 

Rhaenyra tried to comfort her husband, knowing that Daemon loved all three of his daughters fiercely. 

Aemma rose, “We are your daughters; you taught us the Creed of Prince Baelon. You taught us how to sword fight. We are the blood of the dragon and are ready to defend our family from those trying to cause harm; you cannot stop Baela or me.” 

Baela looked at her step-sister with gratitude. Aemma always had a calm fire compared to her raging fire. Aemma had enough of Daemon, Leanor, and Rhaenyra. While Baela had more of her father. 

Daemon and Aemma stared at each other, neither wanting to back down. Benjicot could only move his gaze to his wife, then to the prince, and back to Aemma. He was often pleasantly surprised with how much fire his wife burned. Benji then glanced at the queen, who made eye contact with him. Rhaenyra, noticing Benjicot, could only grin, sighing as she shook her head fondly. She knew who would break first. Then, after another beat, the council saw Daemon grumble before sitting down and taking a gulp from his wine. Aemma gave a victorious smile that many people stated looked like her mother’s as she backed down and turned to her husband, who could only smile loving back at her. 

Rhaenyra cleared her throat, attracting the attention back to her. “Then it's been decided: Princess Rhaenys, Princess Aemma, and Lady Baela will all go to Rooks Rest, with Lord Blackwood’s men following on the ground. My ladies and lord, I wish you a safe journey and swift victory for us. May you come back safe.” 

The four stood, bowed to their queen, and then walked out to prepare for the journey and potential battle. Aemma noticed her husband walking with her to her dragon; she raised an eyebrow in confusion. She wasn’t complaining about spending time with him but assumed he would have gone to his men. Benjicot noticed his princess’s confusion and grinned but didn’t answer. As Aemma came to her dragon, she noticed that her dragon looked different. Aemma greeted Sliverwing with a rub under her chin, causing the dragon to purr in delight. 

Walking towards the back, she noticed the difference. Her saddle had been replaced with a new one. It was still black and red but had little ravens etched in the sides. Her saddle was also wider than before. Aemma gasped at the beauty and turned to her husband, who let Sliverwing sniff his hand. 

“Was this your doing, Ben?” questioned Aemma. 

Benji smiled at her, a dazzling smile that made Aemma’s heart flutter. He walked towards her, placing his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. 

“Yes, it is my wedding gift to you. I hope you like it...” Benji said as he stared into his wife's violet eyes, seeking approval. 

“I love it, and it's wider… possible to allow the said lord to accompany me more on flights,” answered Aemma, staring lovingly at her raven. 

Benjicot smirked before leaning closer towards her, the lips barely touching as he replied, “That was the plan, my wife…” 

Aemma hmmed as she closed the gap between them, passionately kissing her husband. Benjicot answered by playfully biting her lip, asking permission to enter her mouth. Aemma allowed her husband as their tongues danced with each other, placing her arms around his neck. Both felt the fire in their bellies grow again, Benjicot growling as he continued to devour his wife in kisses. Aemma was about to unbutton his shirt when they heard a sharp cough. Aemma and Benjicot jumped and turned; to their horror, Princess Rhaenys was staring at them with a brow raised. Quickly, the couple separated from each other. 

Rhaenys chuckled, “Lord Blackwood, I would assume you would be with your men preparing to depart for Rooks Rest, no?” 

Benjicot gulped as he nodded. Glancing at his wife, he gave a wistful smile before turning and rushing back to camp. Aemma sighed, watching Benji leave in a hurry before smiling bashfully at her grandmother, who turned and came to her and caressed her face. 

“I’m glad you and your lord husband are growing to love each other, but I need to remind you duty must sometimes come first, sweet girl. Do not get distracted, especially when going to battle.” 

Aemma nodded, understanding her grandmother, as she turned to her dragon, ensuring Sliverwing was prepared. Baela later came with Moondancer, and her lips also looked slightly swollen. Aemma gave her a knowing smirk as Baela's eyes widened before turning away. Rhaenys stared at her granddaughter before chuckling again. 

“Go say your goodbyes. We will be departing soon.” 

Aemma turned and returned to camp, looking for her husband, bumping into Aly. As she hugged Alysanne, she asked if she had seen Benjicot, who pointed out that he had turned to his tent after preparing the men. Nodding in thanks, she walked to the tent. Entering, Aemma noticed many gifts laid out in front of the bed. Benjicot was clamping on his red cape with the Blackwood clamp, seeing his wife. 

“They brought in the gifts from last night; I haven’t looked at them. I wanted to wait until you came.” 

Aemma nodded before going towards him, ignoring the gifts. She straightened out his cape before taking his hand and kissing it tenderly. 

“You will be careful. Don’t do anything rash, and come back to me.” She whispered, staring at her husband's eyes, who softened and stared back. 

“As long as you keep your promise as well.  If Vhagar is there and it seems too dangerous, let Sliverwing roar as a signal to fall back and turn to camp,”  Benjicot replied as he placed his forehead to hers. 

For a moment, a dragon princess and her raven lord stood there. Taking solace in their company before, Benjioct gave her one more kiss and walked out to his men. As Aemma followed, she saw him get on his horse, his aunt next to him, before he waved at her and commanded his men to start riding. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aemma and Baela were flying around Rook’s Rest, High enough to be safely covered by the clouds as they waited for their Grandmother and the Blackwood army to arrive. They did not need to wait long once, hearing Meleys roar and seeing the Red Queen dragon burn a lot of machines from the green’s side. Aemma squinted and noticed in anger they were scorpions. Those nasty worms wanted to use scorpions on their dragons. Aemma had to breathe; she knew the plan and would only fly down if Vhagar appeared. She saw red and black men meet green, and Aemma wondered how Benjicot was doing. Before she could wonder more, in the distance were two dragon roars, one smaller than the other. In shock, Aemma and Baela turned to see Sunfyre and Vhagar flying towards Meleys. 

Aemma turned to Baela, “Let me go first. I will catch them from behind. After a moment, join us, but stay away from Vaghar. Keep your attention on Sunfyre.” 

Baela nodded as she watched Aemma fly away, passing Sunfyre and Vhagar before turning around and down. As Aemma came behind the two dragons, Aemma and Rhaenys shouted Dracarys. Fire came from both sides, causing the Green brothers to swerve, trying to avoid the flames. Aemond turned to Aemma angrily as the dragon princess smirked tauntly, the same one that reminded him of Lucerys. Aemond turned Vhagar to Aemma and commanded the giant dragon to attack. Sliverwing, swifter and younger, turned away. Aegon stared at Aemma. She was here, fighting against him, but she was here nevertheless. She was so beautiful and fearless in fighting his brother. He knew his duty was to fight her, but he couldn’t as Meleys and Sliverwing continued to fight Vhagar. Aegon heard another flap close, turning he saw Baela speeding toward him. Aegon turned and shouted Dracarys, grunting as Moondancer easily dodged the flames. 

As the Dragons danced and screeched a head, Benjicot and Alysanne led the assault on the ground, killing as many green knights as possible. With their arrows and swords, both Blackwoods led a bloody mess. Benjicot grinned wildly, eyes rabid, noticing Ser Gwayne Hightower and Ser Cole becoming more upset with their armies. Benjicot commanded his aunt to send another wave of arrows as he rode forward, trying to reach the two knights. Then, Screams were heard from the sky, making everyone pause and stare in horror. 

Baela, at one point, flew too close to Vhagar and retreated to get away, causing Vhagar and Sunfyre to get to Meleys and rib the wings from the she-dragon. Rhaenys slipped from her saddle, and Aemma and Baela screamed in horror and anguish. Baela commanded Moondancer to fly fast, trying to reach her grandmother. Aemma made Sliverwing send fire to Vhagar, causing Aemond to turn. Moondancer scratched Sunfyre’s side when the dragon passed, causing Aegon to lose his balance and nearly slip off. Aemma, in anger, commanded Sliverwing to attack Sunfyre. When Sliverwing clamped her jaw on the yellow dragon, Aegon’s leg was close to Sunfyre’s side. Aegon let out a heart wretched yell as he and Sunfyre crashed to the ground. Aegon's last sight before blackening out was seeing Aemma's eyes filled with Hatred, and he thought, was that hatred for him? Baela yelled faster, and at the last second, she could catch Rhaenys, her grandmother’s body, crashing into Moondancer’s saddle unconsciously. Aemma breathed in relief before noticing Vhagar coming back. 

“Baela, take grandmother back; let a maester or healer look at her. We need to fall back. Go!” Aemma ordered. 

Baela nodded as she flew away, tears streaming down seeing Meleys’s body in flames. 

Benjicot raised his head as everyone in shock stared at where the two dragons had fallen. Cole rode off to get to Aegon. As Sliverwing screeched, Benji knew that was the signal. 

“Fall Back, we need to fall Back! Return to camp!” Shouted Benjicot, upset at the retreat but remembering his promise to his wife. He turned him and his aunt and led their troops back to Harenhall. It was a defeat for the Blacks but a small victory as well. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Aemma reported the events to her mother. Everyone was upset at Meleys death but happy that at least Rhaenys had survived. Aemma tiredly walked back to the tent, seeing Benjicot in the tent taking off his cloak. Aemma sighed as she hugged her husband from behind. 

“How is your grandmother,” asked Benji, turning to Aemma, who smiled weakly. 

“She is unconscious but is expected to have a speedy recovery,” Aemma commented, leaning her head to his chest and breathing in his scent, a woody scent mixed with blood from his clothes. 

“Come join me in a bath; I think we both need it,” asked Ben as he walked to the washing room, Aemma eagerly following him. 

Once bathed, Aemma, only wearing a silk and robe, began looking at the gifts they had; she noticed a small green box with a card attached to it, as she began to open the letter. When one of her mother’s ladies came in. Aemma walked towards her, with Benjicot coming to stand where she was, looking at the letter; as he listened to the news of Rhaenys waking up, he could not feel joy for his wife; he felt cold, staring at the letter before him. 

Aemma was overjoyed that her grandmother had awoken and told the lady that she would visit her in the morning, wanting to let her rest. She turned to Benji, smiling, but quickly lost it when she saw her husband's hardened eyes staring at the gift she had been looking at earlier. 

“Ben…. what’s wrong?” asked Aemma worriedly, flinching as his angered eyes turned to her. 

Benjicot closed his eyes and breathed. He did not mean to make her flinch. 

“Benji…” whispered Aemma. 

He opened his eyes, “What does he mean by ‘You know my heart is yours as yours is mine?” Benjicot asked, his eyes turning to hurt. 

Aemma stared at her husband and then to wretched gift, for she knew who sent it…. Aegon.

[two-white-butterflies]

Coaxed You Into Paradise v.2

Description: The life of Saera Targaryen told in four acts. She was her father's forgotten daughter, cast aside as she looked nothing like her mother. Her younger days were spent beside her uncle. Years following her marriage with Ser Harwin Strong, she catches him in an affair with her older sister. She returns to seek solace in the arms of her uncle, that she's loved all her life.

ACT ONE: ORPHANS OF DRAGONSTONE

Chapter One: Valyrian Necklace Chapter Two: Dragondreamers Chapter Three: Saera and Daemon Chapter Four: Home Chapter Five: Daegon Chapter Six: Morning Glory

ACT TWO: STEPSTONES

Chapter Seven: The Gold Cloaks Chapter Eight: Labyrinth Chapter Nine: The Greens Chapter Ten: King of the Narrow Sea Chapter Eleven: Vengeance (Saera I) Chapter Twelve: Kepus Chapter Thirteen: Breakbones and The Realm's Delight (Saera I) Chapter Fourteen: Reformation

Chapter Fifteen: Children of Valyria Chapter Sixteen: Nine Turns of the Moon Chapter Seventeen: Battle of Birth Chapter Eighteen: Brown Eyes Chapter Nineteen: Kepa's Concern Chapter Twenty: Driftmark Chapter Twenty-One: Blood of Two Chapter Twenty-Two: The Aftermath Chapter Twenty-Three: Green and White

ACT THREE: THE DANCE OF THE DRAGONS

Chapter Twenty-Four: The Dance Chapter Twenty-Five: Bastards of House Targaryen Chapter Twenty-Six: Alyssa and Aemond Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Fear of Losing Children Chapter Twenty-Eight: Kingslanding Chapter Twenty-Nine: Victory/Blood and Cheese (Alyssa II) Chapter Thirty: Blood and Cheese II Chapter Thirty-One: The Pity Chapter Thirty-Two: Exile

ACT FOUR: OF TALES AND FABLES

Chapter Thirty-Three: Born With Sharp Teeth Chapter Thirty-Four: The Dragon and the Scorpion Chapter Thirty-Five: Divided We Fall Chapter Thirty-Six: Learn

Visualizers Blurbs

Playlist

[eddiesghxst]

PRICE OF FAME (PART 5/12)

HEHEHE THIS ONES PACKED W LOTS OF... STUFF, ENJOYYYY!!!

————

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: eddie doesn't think he hates you anymore and you can't figure out eddie's game

contains: enemies to lovers trope, smoking, drug and alcohol use, sexual themes, masturbation (f), maybe a little kith (hehe), flirting, and eddie being a jealous boy <3

word count: 6.5k

| previous part | next part |

| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

The four-day break seems to go by in the blink of an eye, and before you know it, it’s show day again.

As always, everybody is busy and filled with pre-show jitters. Although Eddie and Gareth have yet to speak with one another and resolve their dispute, breakfast is not as tense as last time, and you assume the time away from each other has aided in that realm. But then again, you have an inkling that Eddie is only putting up a nice front for Wayne since it’s his last day in New York.

Eddie is stiff and rigid throughout the morning, taught as a guitar string and vividly battling something he has yet to announce. He’s quiet at breakfast and only speaks when directly addressed, and he doesn’t taunt any back and forth that could transpire between him and Gareth. Jeff’s girlfriend joins the table for the first time, and you sit beside her. 

Naomi is kind and bubbly with tight, curly brown strands that smell of honey and lime whenever she brushes past you. She’s from a small town in Georgia, where she spent most of her life before going off to college and getting a bachelor's in fine arts. She tells you about her most recent projects and showcases and even invites you to attend if you’re ever in town, and you take her number to keep in contact.

Jeff has radiant energy throughout the meal, and you think he and Naomi make a fine couple with how they seem to complete each other.

After breakfast, you make a few calls for work and fill in Anna on your progress. She informs you that they’re working on setting a date for Corroded Coffin’s photoshoot for the magazine and should be in contact with Richie sometime soon. When Anna asks how the trip has been so far, you lie and tell her it’s been seamless and fun. 

You never told Anna about Eddie hating your guts, and you don’t even debate telling her that you’ve somehow stirred the pot between two of the band members or that you kissed the lead singer.

You’re still having a hard time convincing yourself that it was even real.

For a moment, when you woke up this morning, you thought you’d dreamt of kissing Eddie, but no dream ever feels as vivid as that.

You could feel the warmth radiating from Eddie’s body, the coolness of his rings stinging your cheeks when he placed his hands over your jaw to pull you in. The taste and smell of weed mixed in with the worn-down scent of his cologne from the day. And the kiss was so quick, and you were so sleepy you barely had enough time to memorize what his lips felt like or how the feeling of his warm breath against your upper lip sent shivers down your spine.

It left you in a daze for most of the day. Every time you remembered what had happened, your heart raced and the back of your neck heated— and you wanted to ask Eddie what the fuck that was about, but Eddie was nowhere to be found.

After breakfast, Eddie practically falls off the face of the earth. Nobody hears from or sees Eddie, and he doesn’t even show up for rehearsals, which is when Richie becomes suspicious.

“Has anybody fuckin’ seen Eddie, for the love of god?” Richie exclaims. Off to the side, the bass player plucks a deep tune in boredom. Standing center stage, Jeff looks at Richie and shakes his head before glancing at the other two members. Gareth sits behind his drum set, twirling the thick drumsticks between the knuckles of his fingers, lower jaw promptly working a piece of gum as he shrugs. His eye looks better, you note.

And that’s another thing. Gareth has been avoiding you like the plague. You didn’t talk to him much before, but now it’s as if you don’t even exist, and fuck is it making your job more complicated than it already is. How are you supposed to write about Corroded Coffin when half of the said band hates your guts?

Wayne had been spending the day at the hotel, preparing to fly back tomorrow morning, so you doubt he knows where his nephew went. Richie asked an assistant to check if Eddie was being a hermit in his room, but to nobody’s surprise, Eddie wasn’t there either.

By the time 8 o’clock rolls around, the doors to the venue have opened for fans to flood in, and Eddie is still yet to show up. You stand in front of the barricade, a perfect and obstructed view of the stage where you can see everything, including the hustle backstage. 

Wayne has opted for a seat next to the sound booth in the crowd, claiming he’d rather not spend the next few hours standing on his feet, “When you’re older, you’ll understand.” He claimed.

You enjoy the opening act, bopping along and singing to the lyrics you know, and before you know it, the band is leaving, and the clock for Corroded Coffin’s appearance is ticking— still, no word from Eddie.

You’re busy watching the stage crew set up Corroded Coffin’s display when a familiar face approaches you. “How’s the article coming along?”

James, one of the three tour photographers for Corroded Coffin. You sat next to James on day five of breakfast. James is kind, and with your little snippets of conversation, you’ve come to peg him as not exactly what you’d expect. 

James’ skin is littered with tattoos, sleeves up both arms with intricate ink slithering up his neck. You’d ask him how many tattoos he has in total, and he’d confessed that he lost count a long time ago and has now resulted in just throwing out a random number when people ask, to which you laughed.

He has jet-black curly hair that you’ve only seen at breakfast because he likes to slick it back most days, and he has piercings in each ear and one on his right eyebrow. 

He’s a character, James. Intimidating from the outside, but nothing but soft, fluffy teddy bear warmth on the inside. 

“It’s… well, it’s going. I’ve still got a bit of work to do, but so far, so good.” You nod. James smiles and nods, “I’m excited to see the final product. I won’t lie, after we spoke at breakfast, I did a little digging,” he responds. You raise your eyebrows in interest, “Digging?”

“Yeah, you know, looked at some of your past work and whatnot— which, by the way, the piece on the Cocteau Twins was insane,” He exclaims. Your eyes widen, “Really? Not many people talk about that one; I didn’t think it got around.” You laugh.

James tells you about his favorite pieces of yours he read, and he asks questions about each one of them. What your favorite interview was, who were you most excited to write about, and which of your works is your favorite piece so far.

You eventually end up talking about James and his current projects aside from the tour. He tells you about the new exhibit he’s partnering with in downtown LA. It’s an immersive piece, something new in the art world where the audience, for the first time, will get to experience art in a more tangible way. It’s more interactive and fulfilling for those who struggle to grasp the full context behind the art, and James seems more than excited about it when he tells you to stop by if you have the time.

However, before you can respond, the lights in the venue dim, and the crowd roars. 

This has always been your favorite part of a show, that moment when the lights cut off and the arena comes to life with a shared excitement. It’s exhilarating and pulls you to the edge of your seat, no matter how often you’ve seen it.

Through the smoke-filled venue and the dark atmosphere, you can see each of the boys file out onto the stage, Gareth spinning his drumsticks between his knuckles as he steps onto the drum riser while the other two grab their instruments. Three members are on stage, and you remember that Eddie has been missing in action for the entire day.

The crowd grows louder when they see the shadows of the boys on stage, screaming their names and chanting in anticipation. And as he shreds the first chords to the opening song, you worry that Eddie really might’ve skipped out on tonight’s show.

You’re happily mistaken, however, because soon you see another figure step out, and the crowd goes deafeningly loud.

Beside you, James smiles and shakes his head, “Shit never gets old,” he yells over the screams.

And your heart is racing for some reason as you watch the tall figure walk in the darkness, curly mane of hair akin to a halo as he steps up to the mic, electric guitar strapped across his body.

He leans into the mic and says a few words, words you don’t even hear due to how loud the crowd is, but you feel the gruffness and bass of his voice booming through the speakers, and you nearly mistake it for your heartbeat.

Because when the song finally starts and the stage lights go up, you’re at a loss for words.

Eddie is gorgeous, undeniably so; he always has been, and you never thought he wasn’t. The only thing that got in the way of Eddie’s beauty was his shitty attitude towards you. But this… the way Eddie looks tonight— you’re a speechless and wavering mess of mixed feelings.

Tonight, Eddie is beautiful.

His hair is down as usual, curly and healthy strands sitting pretty atop his shoulders, and he’s opted to play the show in nothing but leather pants and his usual boots.

His upper body is on full display, broad shoulders, and muscles flexing with each strum of his guitar, back muscles working overtime as he trashes along to the music. He’s covered in a thin sheen of sweat, tattoo-covered skin glistening beneath the lights, and you want nothing more than to run your hands down his chest and watch the way it smudges beneath your fingertips.

When the second song finishes, Eddie’s chest is heaving as he pauses and looks out into the crowd, scanning the rows with a lopsided, smug grin.

You can hear faint pants leaving his lips as he leans into the mic, jewelry-wrapped fingers hugging the fret of his guitar. He gazes in silence for a moment, listening to the cheers of the crowd that pull the corners of his mouth into a wider grin. And you don’t even notice the rest of the band on stage because all you see and hear is Eddie.

You hold your breath when his eyes find yours, and your knees nearly buckle at the sight of his dark eyes shining beneath smudged, black eyeliner. 

“Fuck,” he breathes with a smile, softly laughing when the crowd screams at his voice, “Do you look good tonight, New York.”

And he’s saying this and looking at you.

He is staring at you like he can see through to your soul, and it makes your head dizzy with a whirlwind of emotions and greedy wishes.

You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath until Eddie finally looks away from you and into the crowd, “Are you ready to have a good time, New York?”

Eddie has never, in all his years of living, played as well as he did tonight.

He’s not sure what exactly caused this; maybe the fact that Wayne is in the crowd tonight, or perhaps because he’s still pissed with Gareth, or maybe because he can’t stop thinking about kissing you, or probably because he hates the way you and James won’t stop fucking talking to each other.

Eddie doesn’t know why it pisses him off to see you laughing and enjoying the company of James, but it does. It ticks him off to no end, and he can’t help the feeling that brews in his chest when you lean forward to hear James over the music or when James innocently squeezes your bicep to get your attention before he says something.

By the middle of the show, Eddie has had enough. He’s four shots of tequila in, and he’s feeling bold with the crowd's energy, so when his infamous guitar solo in one of the songs comes, he doesn’t stand center stage as usual.

No, Eddie makes sure to walk over and stand right in front of where you and James stand and play his solo like it’s the last time he'll ever play.

It’s a sinful view, and the crowd goes wild, the big screens zooming in on his skilled fingers dancing across the frets, the flexing of his wet torso, the flutter of his lashes when he closes his eyes and tosses his head back. His lips are slick and parted in ecstasy from the adrenaline high. 

And Eddie can feel your eyes on him. Can feel the heat of your gaze burning through every inch of his body, rolling over every movement he makes and taking him in like he’s a prized possession in a museum. He thrives off of it, and he plays harder.

When his solo ends, Eddie doesn’t bother looking at the crowd or James or his band; no, Eddie only looks at you, making sure you understand what he’s trying to say through his eyes. And for a moment, Eddie wishes James would turn the camera away from him and capture your beauty instead— because you look like an angel under red lights.

Eddie has only allowed himself small moments to appreciate the sight of you, but now, he is greedy with the upper hand he has. He takes in every piece of you; your hair, your eyes, your lips, the delicate necklace kissing the skin of your collarbones— and Eddie wants to run his tongue up the side of your neck and hear you whimper for him. Wants to dig his teeth into your skin until you keen and whine and beg him for more more more. 

The skirt you’re wearing, god, it’s fucking short, and Eddie imagines the way your skin would feel beneath his fingers, pressing into the fat of your thighs and marveling when the skin gives way to the pressure. Hot and messy fingerprints all around your hips and ribs. Teeth bearing marks across your stomach and chest. Eddie is dizzy with lust and need, and he feels like a fucking animal writhing and waiting to pounce.

Greedy, greedy, greedy.

He wants it all.

The rest of the show goes back and forth like that. Eddie catches glimpses of you and James talking and takes it upon himself to direct your attention back to the stage— back to him. Near the end, James finally focuses on his fucking job and busies himself with taking pictures instead of flirting with you, and Eddie walks off the stage feeling satisfied.

The band does their meet and greet backstage and signs a few autographs before they can do their usual post-show rituals: drinking, playing games, and making plans to go out.

Despite his love for post-show rituals, Eddie wants nothing to do with it tonight because he can only focus on you. 

You’re standing with James and a stage crew member, talking about something Eddie could care less about, given how he cuts into the conversation, “Can we talk?”

Your eyes are wide and bright when you turn to him, shocked by Eddie’s ability to even acknowledge you, and Eddie thinks about last night and how your lips felt against his. “Um… talk?”

Eddie’s still high on post-show energy, and he doesn’t like that James is standing so close to you, so he takes a leap of faith and wraps a hand around your wrist, gently tugging with a short nod, not even waiting for an answer before he turns and drags you out of the green room. 

He doesn’t know at what point his fingers traveled down your wrist to slip between your warm and gentle fingers, but he becomes hyper-aware of it as soon as you both step out into the hallway, the slam of the door echoing behind you, “Eddie, where are you taking me?”

Eddie glances back at you, fingers subconsciously squeezing yours, “Dressing room. I wanna do the interview.” He answers.

You halt at his response, heels digging into the cement floor and tugging Eddie back, “What?”

The heat of your palm is burning through Eddie’s skin, and he’s not sure if he’ll be able to stop himself from what he wants to do if he continues touching you, so he lets go. “The interview.”

You shake your head and squeeze your eyes, “No, I heard you, but… I mean,” you pause, “why? And why now? This can’t wait until—“

“Look, if you don’t want to do it now, that’s fine, but I’m not doing it any other time.” He doesn’t wait for an answer before turning around and continuing to walk towards his dressing room.

You silently watch for a moment, clearly confused by the sudden change of heart, but you nod either way and follow after him.

Eddie hardly pays any mind to you when you walk in behind him, busying himself with walking over to the bar cart and pouring himself a glass of the first bottle he sees. Glancing over his shoulder, Eddie notices you awkwardly standing near the door and snickers. “You can take a seat, sweetheart; I didn’t bring you here to, like… chew you out or something.” He jokes.

He makes you a glass despite not asking, and when he turns around, you’re now seated on the light brown couch in the middle of the room, hands fiddling in your lap as you silently wait for Eddie.

He sits on the opposite side of the couch and places the second glass on the coffee table, wordlessly nudging it toward you before leaning back in the seat and taking a long sip.

“Where’s your cute little journal?”

You’re confused.

You don’t understand the game Eddie is playing, and it’s driving you insane the longer you look at him, leaned back against the plush couch, smug smirk kissing the rim of his glass as he takes a slow sip, brown, hazy eyes glazing over your nervous figure. The sheer button-down top he now wears is fully unbuttoned to reveal his sweat-glistening torso, leather pants hug his thighs, snug and tauntingly, the button popped open and zipper pulled down to show the sinful sight of a trail of hair that leads to places you’ve been trying so desperately not to imagine. You don’t mean to stare, and you catch yourself when he shifts his hips upward to get more comfortable, the sight of his lower stomach flexing and tattoos coming alive on his skin sending shivers up your spine.

You clear your throat and turn to grab your journal out of your bag. You haven’t had the time to buy a new journal after you ruined the binds by tearing out those pages for Eddie, so you must handle the remaining structure carefully.

You take a deep breath and flip to a clean page, clicking your pen once before glancing at Eddie, “Okay, I guess we’ll… start.”

Eddie smirks, and you want nothing more than to wipe it away.

You open your mouth to ask your first question, but Eddie cuts you off, “I have a proposition,” he begins.

You look at Eddie, blinking once and thinking over if you want to indulge in whatever trick this is. You relent, “Okay?”

Eddie smiles triumphantly and leans forward to put his glass on the table, yours still untouched. He grabs the pack of cigarettes lying to the side, picking a single stick and grabbing the lighter before leaning back onto the couch, lighting the cigarette before shifting to face you. He drapes an arm across the back of the sofa, blowing out a cloud of smoke before speaking, “I get to ask you questions as well. Like a trade-off, for each question you ask, I also get to ask one.”

And it’s not as bad as you’d thought, really. Knowing Eddie, you had expected him to propose a game involving stripping or drinking of some sort, and you had prepared to immediately shut him down— but this, you can settle for this.

So, you shrug, “Okay. We can do that.”

Eddie hums in delight, taking another drag of the burning stick and nodding for you to begin.

“Okay,” you sigh, shifting to get more comfortable. In the distance, you can hear the chaos of backstage rituals happening, and you fight through the noise to focus. “We’ll start light. What made you choose music?”

Eddie twiddles the cigarette between his fingers, silently thinking, “I don’t know. I grew up with music, never went a day without it, so, in a way, I guess you could say music chose me.” He responds.

You nod, “What are some of your first memories with music?”

Eddie smiles and gazes up at the ceiling, and you watch as he seems to wander down a road of memories. “When I was younger,” he begins, “before my mom died, I remember waking up and going to the kitchen to watch her cook breakfast,” he pauses as if trying to see through the fog of time to explain it clearly.

“And she had this small green radio that sat on the window sill, and she would play all of her tapes; The Mamas and Papas, Jefferson Airplane, Sam and Dave— you know… hippie shit.” He says. “I knew Surrealistic Pillow like the back of my hand by the time I could talk, I swear.” He jokes, smiling when you softly laugh. He looks at you, a glint flashing in his eyes, and you can tell the memory brings him a joy he misses. 

And you find yourself thinking back to a few days ago, when you were walking beside Wayne with Richie and Eddie a few paces back. You remember what Wayne had told you then; you remember the tone in his voice and the careful thought he’d used behind each sentence.

“Give him time,” Wayne softly says. You glance over your shoulder and catch a glimpse of Eddie and Richie sharing a cigarette. You turn back to Wayne when he adds, “You’re a nice girl, and Eddie… Eddie doesn’t know what to do with nice.”

You dig your teeth into the inside of your cheek, chest tightening at the pained gaze in his eyes when he speaks, “He hasn’t had much of that in his life.”

“I know you don’t owe it to him, but just give him some time… he’ll come around.”

Eddie glances at your empty page before gazing back into your eyes, “You gonna write something down? I’m not repeating any of this, just so you know.”

You nod, snapping out of your daze to begin writing. Eddie patiently waits as you jot down your thoughts and conversation, burning through his cigarette and watching your every move.

You look back at him when you finish, and fight the urge to shy away when you realize he hasn’t looked away from you this entire time. “Um, okay, tell me about—” “I believe I get to ask two questions now.” Eddie cuts in with a smirk.

“Oh,” you pause, “Yeah, okay. Go ahead.”

Eddie ashes his cigarette and grabs his drink again, “When did you start writing?”

And Eddie keeps surprising you. For some reason, you thought Eddie would ask something dumb, inappropriate, or condescending— nothing of this matter. You didn’t think Eddie was interested in actually learning something about you.

You sigh as you think, “Well, the first time I ever wrote for myself was around middle school; I had a diary.” You respond, and Eddie’s eyebrows raise in interest, “It was lilac with a gold lock on the pages, and I carried the key around on my necklace because I was so afraid someone would get ahold of it.” You shake your head as Eddie laughs.

“Now, what in god’s name was little middle school Birdie writing about in her secret diary?” Eddie pries.

You scoff, “Like I’d ever tell you that.” You roll your eyes, and Eddie makes a sound of protest, “Come on, it can’t be that bad.” He pokes. You raise an eyebrow and glance at Eddie, “You’d be surprised by what goes through the mind of a twelve-year-old girl on the precipice of puberty. I’m taking those pages to the grave.”

Eddie laughs loudly at that, head tossing back with the action. You find it beautiful, the way his neck stretches and his skin molds against his bones— kissable and enticing.

“Okay, well, aside from your secretive diary. What made you choose this,” Eddie nods towards the journal in your lap.

You hum and purse your lips in thought, “I’ve always loved writing. I loved reading too, still do, and I tried writing fiction, but there’s something about writing people’s stories that just… feels good.” You respond.

“I know how easy it is to become misunderstood in this industry, so I want to hear the truth and help the audience see things from a clearer perspective. I want to help create an understanding if that makes sense.”

Eddie nods, eyes soft and smiling within his gaze. “That’s neat.” He comments, and you smile.

He sips his drink before speaking, “So, how did you end up writing for Rolling Stone Magazine?”

You laugh, “A shit ton of groveling, I’ll tell you that.”

You reach forward and pick up your drink for the first time, taking a sip before speaking, “I’d been trying to get an interview for the longest time, and then I finally just gave up for a while, but then my friend saw an opening a few months later and sent in one of my writings and… I guess they liked it enough to hire me,” You shrug.

“But,” you hold up a finger, “I spent a good year just running errands and shit for the managers; it was awful,” you admit. “So, how’d you end up with the big guys?” Eddie asks.

“Well, I wrote a hell of a paper and blew their fuckin’ minds.” You jokingly say, smirking over the rim of your glass as you take a sip. Eddie softly laughs and takes a sip of his drink as you place yours back down on the table in exchange for picking up your pen.

“My turn,” You remind him.

He nods, and you glance at your journal, thinking about what you want to ask next. “I know in the past you’ve mentioned that you don’t particularly release songs about your life, but you rather opt to tell stories within your music,” you mention, and Eddie nods in confirmation. 

“What’s the reasoning behind that?”

It’s a slightly more in-depth question, and Eddie has to take a few moments of silent pondering before he answers. “Well, for starters, I’ve always considered myself more of a storyteller. I like to create different scenarios and characters and find ways to bring them to life,” He begins.

You quietly jot down notes as you listen to him speak, “When I was in high school, I got really into Dungeons and Dragons, and I still love the game, but I guess you could say it stems from that— the storytelling aspect, I mean.” 

“But as for why I don’t release more personal songs… I don’t know; I guess I just like to keep a part of my life private to some degree. However, that doesn’t mean these made-up characters and scenarios I sing about aren’t in some way correlated to me,” He hints, and you nod in understanding.

“That’s neat.” You copy his words from earlier, and you both smile.

You and Eddie go back and forth with questions for a bit, touching base with topics like childhood, friendships, current projects, and such. It’s nice to have a decent conversation with Eddie, and for a moment you forget that you’re even doing your job because interviewing Eddie feels like any normal conversation you’d have— lighthearted, smooth, and innocent. Until—

“Alright, my turn. This one’s good,” Eddie starts.

You’re both two glasses in, and your cheeks feel warm from the drinks as you gesture for Eddie to go on. Eddie gazes at you and studies you briefly before speaking, “What’s going on with you and James?”

You blink in confusion, “James?” You question. Eddie nods, “Yeah, James. The photographer.” Eddie explains.

Your face twists in slight confusion as Eddie sips his drink, “What about him?” You ask.

Eddie laughs, “What’s up with you two? Are you guys together or something?”

And there it is. The game that Eddie’s been playing all along, revealed in all its true nature. 

Your eyebrows furrow in defense, annoyed with the sudden shift in demeanor, “Is that any of your business?” You question, and Eddie laughs, tapping his ring against the glass of his drink with a soft clink, “Sweetheart, it’s my business if I’m cutting the check.” He snickers.

You narrow your gaze at him, clearly irritated with his words. You don’t know why you ever gave him the chance. Eddie has only ever shown you his true colors, and he’s, more than once, told you that he doesn’t take you or your profession seriously. This has reminded you so.

“You don’t pay me,” you snap, “And I doubt you’ve even touched a check in the last three years.”

Eddie smirks, amused by your sudden frustration, “Maybe you have a point,” he relents, “But you still haven’t answered my question.” He points out.

You roll your eyes, “Why do you care, Eddie?”

Eddie shrugs, “I’m curious.” He smugly answers. 

“I don’t ask you who you’re fucking, do I?” A lousy attempt at dodging the question.

Eddie shrugs again, “You could if you want to, I don’t mind. I bet you’ve been curious to know anyway, haven’t you?” He replies.

You don’t like the way that makes your insides squirm with heat.

And you could tell him the truth. You could tell him the simple and honest answer that, no, nothing is going on between you and James. But as you look at Eddie sitting across the couch, you can’t find a single reason why Eddie should even care or why he should have the satisfaction of an answer. “Ask something else.” You say.

Eddie doesn’t waste a second to spit out his next question, “Did you like the kiss?”

“A different question.” “Those are my questions, princess.”

God, you don’t even know why you’re putting up with this. You could easily just get up and leave, but you hate to give Eddie any room for thinking he’s won whatever stupid battle this is. 

You shut your journal, refusing to stay another minute, going back and forth with Eddie. You stand and grab your bag, shoving your journal in before looking at Eddie and finally answering his original question, “No, nothing is going on between me and James.” You admit. And you think Eddie will leave it at that, but you're sadly mistaken.

“And the kiss?” He asks.

“What about it?” Your composure is beginning to falter and your frustration is seeping into your tone. Eddie’s eyes glint with mischief, gaze never leaving your fidgety frame as he speaks, “Did you like it?”

“No.”

A lie. A terrible one that Eddie can see right through.

You begin making your way to the door, but Eddie catches you before you can even lay a finger on the handle, turning you around to face him when he speaks, “You’re a shit liar.” He points out.

And he’s so close you can barely think straight with his overwhelming presence. You find your footing through the haze, gazing into Eddie’s eyes when you speak, “Did you ask me to come in here so you can answer my questions, or did you just want to waste my time?”

Eddie is silent for a long moment, eyes dancing between your wide and sharp gaze, darting down to your lips, the tip of his pink tongue darting out to lightly lick across his bottom lip. You can smell the smoke on his breath, reaching out to mix with your liquor-coated exhales.

“Did you like the kiss?”

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Eddie has you cornered now, pressed against a wall so tight you have no choice but to admit defeat, moving forward to press your lips against his liquor-slicked lips.

It’s hasty. Messy, greedy, drunk, and needy, and it rids your mind of all rational thought as Eddie presses himself against you. 

Eddie kisses you like it’s the last chance he’ll ever get, pressing into you so close you’d think he’s trying to jump into your skin. And the taste of Eddie is addicting.

You crave for more, and you’re hesitant to push, but Eddie understands the second he feels your tongue lick against your lips. He takes it upon himself to push his tongue into the warm, wet cavern of your mouth, and you happily let him. All clear thinking has gone out the window at this point, and you let your bag slink off your shoulder to plot onto the floor, busying yourself with sinking your fingers into the curly strands of his hair and gently tugging at the root. Eddie moans against your lips, and you pant, your brain going dizzy at the heavenly sound.

Eddie’s hands are eager and hungry as they rest against your hips, sneaking up your torso to squeeze and grab at your skin. And he hates the fact that there are so many layers of clothes between you, and he wants them gone.

His hand travels down the side of your body and digs into the thick of your thigh, dipping lower to catch the back of your knee and hitch your leg around his waist. You keen, pitching your hips forward into Eddie’s, and he moans, greedily squeezing your skin and gliding up your leg. Cool rings send shivers up your spine when he slips under the hem of your denim skirt and kneads the fat of your ass.

If breathing weren’t a necessity, you would kiss Eddie forever, but your lungs burn with the lack of air, so you find yourself pulling away with a wet gasp, “I—“ Eddie presses a kiss to your lips, cutting you off before you can speak and you whine, fingers moving to dig into the soft material of his open shirt, “Eddie, I can’t… I can’t breathe, I gotta breathe,” You pant.

Eddie laughs, and you smile as he trails his kisses down to your neck, licking against the base of your throat before sinking his teeth into the skin. You moan, whiney and loud in Eddie’s ear and he hums in appreciation, grumbling into the skin of your neck as he speaks, “I wanna fuck you.”

His teeth scrape against your pulse, and you gasp, head dropping back against the wall with a soft thud as your nails dig into the skin of Eddie’s shoulder. “What?” You hazily blink.

Eddie moves back to see you, lust-ridden eyes darting all over your face. And he looks so pretty, hair messy, shirt skewed against his lean frame, lips swollen and pink from kissing, and you want him. You want him to a dangerous degree.

He kisses you, muttering his words against your lips as he squeezes your hips and pulls you closer, “I wanna fuck you.” Eddie repeats.

You pant, opening your mouth against his and preparing to speak, but you’re interrupted by the door opening, the two of you jumping at the sudden intrusion, your hand swiftly shoving at Eddie’s body to push him away. 

And you think you might die because who better to walk in on you and Eddie practically devouring one another than fucking Jeff.

“Oh, shit, uh,” Jeff looks the other way as soon as he sees you and Eddie. You hastily pick up your bag and tug your skirt back down to a modest length from where it had ridden up to your hips.

You and Eddie are still breathing heavily from your extremities, and Eddie— fucking Eddie; he snickers when Jeff glances back at him and makes a lazy attempt at holding back a laugh. Your face and neck heat up in embarrassment as you shift in your spot, wanting nothing more than the floor to open up and swallow you whole.

“The car is here, man, let’s go,” Jeff snickers before leaving.

And truthfully, you don’t currently have the confidence to look Eddie in the eye and register what’s just happened between you two. So, you grip the strap of your bag and flee before Eddie can say or do anything.

You’re not sure how that happened, and you’re not sure why it makes your stomach twist in a way that makes you blush, but you like it. 

And you can’t believe yourself.

You can’t believe that you spent the entire drive to the hotel thinking about how Eddie’s hands felt on your body, his lips against the skin of your neck, or how you could feel him pressed against your thigh, begging to be touched.

When you shower, you try to ignore the throbbing ache between your legs when you think of those words Eddie whispered to you. You try to ignore it as you get ready for bed and ignore the toe-curling sensation of the cool hotel sheets brushing against your hardened nipples when you slip into bed. You try so hard; you really do.

But you can’t help it when you begin imagining how Eddie’s hands would feel across your chest, the light and rough feeling of his calloused fingers ghosting over your nipples to watch as you writhe beneath him. 

Fuck, you really try to ignore it.

But you can’t. It’s annoying, the way Eddie clouds your mind. And you feel like a bitch in heat when the only thing running through your mind and body is the burning desire to cum. And if you stuff your hands between your thighs and bring yourself to cum to the idea of Eddie and the feeling of him pressed against you with your name on his tongue, who’s to judge you but yourself?

Because despite everything your mind is telling you, you can’t help but find yourself wanting Eddie.

But all of that flies out the window the following day.

You’d decided to order breakfast to your room, and the hotel sends the daily newspaper with each meal, and you like to read it while sipping on a hot cup of coffee on your terrace. However, when you see the newsletter cover, you’re not sure you have much of an appetite for coffee.

A picture of Eddie from last night with a familiar red-headed girl wrapped around his arm and a caption that makes your stomach twist in knots. The caption, ‘Corroded Coffin lead singer, Eddie Munson, new girlfriend debut!” in bold and italicized letters.

And you don’t know why, but your stomach sinks. You should’ve known better.

————

part six

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a/n: HIII YOU MADE IT TO THE END!! i know i said there would be drama drama in this part BUT it started getting too long for my liking, SOOO THE REAL DRAMA WILL COMMENCE IN PART 6 HEHE. THANK YOU FOR READING, AND AS ALWAYS, I LOVE TO HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS SO PLS LMK IN THE COMMENTS OR REBLOGS HOW YOU FEELLL <3

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cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @jesssssmaybankk @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975 @demxnicprxncess @emma77645 @sidthedollface2

@mvnsonslvt @s-u-t @hereforshmut @mmunson86 @welcometohellsock @lma1986 @birdsinmywalls @animechick555 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @spideydreams00 @lorosette @prestinalove @sirensleepingsoundly

[ataliagold]

But My Heart Is Just A Little Boy

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: Teen (swearing)

W/C: 2012

Tags: Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, hurt/comfort, Steve Harrington has dyscalculia, Steve Harrington has self esteem issues, Steve Harrington needs a hug, fluff, light angst, DnD, Mike and Dustin are a little mean here

Notes: Just slowly posting some of my AO3 stuff here as well :) Title from Rattlesnake by Jack Van Cleaf.

___

Steve joining in on Eddie’s campaign was supposed to be a nice surprise for his boyfriend.

And it was; Eddie’s face had lit up with joy when Steve had walked in and sat down with the kids around the table. Steve had taken the dice Dustin had loaned him and lined them up in front of him, from the D4 (the funny triangle one) up to the D20 (the one with heaps of sides, Steve reminded himself.)

If he kept them in that order it would help him pick the right dice quickly, he’d decided.

Because he wanted this to go to perfectly.

Eddie had been asking him to join in on a game for months, but Steve had so far refused, only coming along sometimes to watch quietly. There were parts of it that piqued his interest – namely the combat and the creatures Eddie planted into the game, because some of them were so damn cool even if Steve wouldn’t readily admit it out loud. A small part of him, a much younger part that had loved fairy tales and stories about knights and dragons and sword fights before his father had confiscated those books, deeming them too childish, watched with a quiet giddiness as the kids battled all manner of beasts.

But much of the game was so complicated - there were so many numbers, and Steve had no idea how Eddie and the kids managed to keep track of everything, how they added dice values together so damn quickly and kept track of a seemingly endless list of stats and bonuses and modifiers, whatever the hell they were.

Eddie knew about his difficulty with numbers. He’d seen the way Steve had to count with his fingers, how it took him far too fucking long to do a simple equation, how he stood in Melvald’s staring at the price of something just trying to make the numbers make sense so they wouldn’t blow their grocery budget.

And Eddie was patient, always. But D&D was Eddie’s realm, his place to shine, and Steve was so worried about holding him back and ruining the game every time he had to pause to add two fucking dice together.

Finally, he’d caved. Secretly, with Dustin’s help, he’d put a character sheet together. He’d made a paladin because Dustin had told him it suited him. Steve made him strong and lawful good, just like the knights he used to read about as a little boy. Dustin had rolled his eyes a little at that but Steve had been quite proud of what he’d put together.

Plus, Dustin had promised to help him with the math.

But here Steve was, well over an hour into the campaign, and he was struggling.

Cheeks burning, he turned to Dustin yet again.

“Wait, which one am I rolling?” he whispered.

Dustin rolled his eyes. The kid had been patient at first, but it was beginning to wear thin.

Steve was beginning to wear thin.

“The D10, Steve,” Dustin hissed.

“Right,” Steve nodded, grabbing for one of the dice.

“That’s the D8, Steve,” Mike said wearily.

Steve’s cheeks flushed even hotter, and he grabbed the other dice, rolling it quickly.

“Ahhh...seven,” Steve announced.

“You slash at the goblin, your blade cutting deep into its chest, the creature gurgling and reeling backwards…” Eddie leant over the table, giving a dramatic recount of events.

Steve smiled, unable to help it. His boyfriend was having such a good time, and even if Steve wasn’t enjoying himself so much, well, that was ok. He could do this, for Eddie.

“…but it scrabbles back to its feet, weak but alive,” Eddie finishes.

Mike groaned and slapped the table.

“It has to be almost dead,” Lucas announced.

“Yeah, but there’s still four others,” Mike pointed out.

“This one must be on two hit points or less,” Will surmised.

How did he know that? Steve frowned, let the kids talk amongst themselves. His gaze wandered over to Eddie, watching him lean back in his chair, eyes shining. He shot a wink at Steve when he caught him looking, then frowned a little, obviously noticing Steve wasn’t looking all that comfortable.

You ok? He mouthed at him.

Steve nodded quickly.

But he felt small.

Grow the fuck up, you’re fine.

“…Steve!” Mike groaned.

Steve’s attention snapped back to the kids. “What?”

“Stop staring at Eddie and tell us how many hit points you’ve got left.”

“Um…” Steve glanced down at the piece of paper in front of him. He’d scribbled some numbers down like Dustin had told him to every time his character had taken damage, but there were a lot of numbers there and he wasn’t sure they all actually related to his hit points…

“Give it here,” Dustin snatched the paper from him impatiently, peering down at it.

Steve waited while Dustin assessed his work, the feeling vaguely reminiscent of being back in school, his teachers reading over his work with a disappointed shake of their heads.

“This can’t be right, Steve,” Dustin sighed. “It says you’re on twelve hit points…is that a twelve? Your writing’s messy.”

Steve nodded. “Yours isn’t much better, pea-brain,” he mumbled, just to shoot something back at the kid.

Dustin narrowed his eyes at him. “You must have less than that because of the damage you took in the last round. You’re probably down to…eight at the most, by now.”

“Just make it eight, then,” Steve grumbled.

“Eight it is, big boy,” Eddie agreed.

“It doesn’t work like that, though,” Mike huffed. “You actually have to keep track of this stuff Steve, there’s no point playing if you just make the numbers up.”

“It doesn’t matter, really,” Will tried to intervene quietly. “It can just be eight.”

Dustin picked up his pencil, drawing some columns on Steve’s paper. “Ok, so just use this one column to keep track of damage, don’t write all over the page. There’s your total hit points at the top, and every time you take damage, write it down under there, ok? And then just take it off the total. Simple.”

Like it was that fucking easy. Maybe for them, it was. They didn’t get every number mixed up in their brain, they didn’t stare at a single digit trying to put some numeric value behind it and coming up with zilch.

Dustin was trying to help, Steve knew. But his tone of voice was so fucking condescending that it had Steve squirming in his seat, wishing he was anywhere else.

He felt Eddie’s eyes on him.

“Come sit by me, Stevie, I’ll help you keep track.” Eddie said gently.

“You’ll just go easy on him, and that’s not fair!” Mike whined.

“Can it, Wheeler,” Eddie snapped at him.

“Just because he can’t do basic math.”

“Right, you get to roll with disadvantage now, just for that,” Eddie told him smugly.

Mike was retorting with something, but Steve didn’t hear it.

His pulse was thumping in his ears, his cheeks on fire. The years were stripped from him, the sensitive child he’d tucked away inside a long time ago forced to the surface.

“Look, just carry on without me,” Steve muttered, and stood up quick enough that his chair scraped on the floor.

“Steve -” Dustin started, but Steve was finished, striding towards the stairs and blinking back tears.

He wasn’t going to cry in front of the kids, not over a fucking game, not over something his boyfriend loved so much.

But they were coming faster than he could blink them back as he headed out of Mike’s stuffy basement and out to the driveway, the cold night air caressing his flushed face.

This was supposed to have been a treat for Eddie. It was supposed to be fun, and Steve had ruined the night by being fucking stupid.

A tear tracked down his cheek , Steve losing the battle against them. He’d just drive home, he decided. Steve had come straight from work that day, so Eddie had come separately in his van, he wouldn’t be inconvenienced.

And then they could finish their game in peace, without having to treat Steve like a five-year-old.

He was getting in the driver’s seat when Eddie ran to him, both hands reaching for him.

“Stevie…” Eddie murmured softly.

“I’m sorry,” Steve mumbled, dragging his sleeve across his face, smudging the tears there.

“Why? The kids were being assholes, I’ve already yelled at them.”

Steve shook his head. “I was just slowing everyone down, they were getting frustrated, I get it.”

“No, sweetheart, they were being rude,” Eddie corrected him. “Especially Wheeler.” Eddie brushed his thumbs across Steve’s cheeks, crouching down beside the open driver’s door. “I’ve told them to pull their heads in. Do you…do you want to come back inside?”

“Eds…” Steve leant into his hands a little. “I’m no good at it. I really wanted to try, for you, and I’m so sorry I ruined it, but there’s too many numbers and I can’t keep track of everything and it takes me so fucking long and it’s embarrassing because I can’t even keep up with a bunch of kids, and I just feel like I’m back at school again.”

Eddie cupped his cheeks again, tilting Steve’s head to look at him. “Hey. You haven’t ruined anything, they did. I’m so happy you came along tonight, because I know you did it for me. But look, D&D doesn’t have to be your thing -”

“But -”

“It doesn’t,” Eddie cut in. “Just like…your balls in laundry basket games aren’t mine. But I like hanging around while you and Wayne watch them, and I love how excited you get about it, and how you sit there with that fucking pretty smile…”

Steve huffed out a small laugh, and Eddie grabbed his wrist to press a kiss to the inside of it.

“But I don’t know what’s going on most of the time,” Eddie continued. “It makes you happy, and that’s enough for me. So, I don’t want you to feel like you have to play D&D just for me if it’s not something you enjoy. It’s more than enough that you listen to my ideas, that you help me write -”

“I don’t really,” Steve said quietly.

“You do! Or have you forgotten who came up with that fucking amazing twist with the elven prince?”

“I got it from a movie,” Steve argued.

“So? I didn’t think of it, and it had the little shrimps completely stumped.”

Steve managed a small smile. “I do like some of the stories,” he admitted quietly. “But I think…I just wanna go home, ok? You can carry on.”

Eddie shook his head. “I’m gonna get them to pack up in there. I’ll drop them home, then follow you back, ok?”

“Steve?” came Dustin’s voice from behind Eddie, small and hesitant.

Steve quickly straightened up in his seat, wiping a hand across his face.

“Yeah, buddy?” he replied, his voice a little hoarse.

“I’m…I’m sorry. That we weren’t more patient. It’s ok if you struggle with numbers, and we should’ve helped more.”

“It’s ok, Dusty,” Steve told him.

Eddie frowned, reached down to squeeze Steve’s hand, then turned to Dustin. “It isn’t ok,” he argued. “But it was nice of you to apologize.”

Dustin nodded. “If you want to try again sometime, I promise I’ll help more. I…I really liked having you play.”

“Thanks,” Steve managed.

“Tell Wheeler to start crafting his apology too,” Eddie said firmly, still cradling Steve’s hand in his own. “Otherwise he’s rolling with disadvantage for the whole next session.”

Dustin’s eyes widened a little before he nodded.

After packing up, the kids waited sheepishly by Eddie’s van. Eddie stayed crouched next to Steve a moment longer.

“Go home, get comfy on the couch, and pick out any movie you want to watch, ok?” Eddie murmured to him. “When I get home I’m gonna order us some pizza, and I’m gonna cuddle the shit out of you, understand?”

Steve laughed softly. “Sounds perfect.”

“Good. I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

___

[stclaretarot]

PICK A CARD ⭒ which ancestor is reaching out to you?

reminder that this is a general reading and messages found here may not apply to everyone. take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and don't force anything if it does not fit.

BOOK A READING WITH ME · LINKTREE · 18+ PATREON · SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC · TIPS ♡ tips, bookings, and feedback are highly appreciated!

GROUP ONE

cards · the high priestess, queen of wands, king of pentacles, page of pentacles

channelled songs · stand by me by wayv. gangsta luv by snoop dogg & the-dream. i will follow you into the dark by death cab for cutie.

hey there group one ♡ this is a paternal ancestor, a female ancestor from your father’s side. she is slavic, scandinavian or an indigenous person in this general area of europe.

sami, kurdish, and uyghur also come to mind.

this ancestor may be your father’s grandmother, or the grandmother of a grandmother for example.

because of this, this is likely not someone you have met -- though she has watched over you since you were born. no, since earlier. since before your conception. she has prayed and willed you into existence.

GROUP TWO

cards · the lovers, the world, nine of swords, six of pentacles.

channelled songs · bodak yellow by cardi b. restraint by florence + the machine. eternal sunshine by ambré & g-eazy.

hey there group two ♡ this is someone who died for love. suddenly, i keep thinking about the movies ‘bladerunner 2049’ and ‘mulan’. in both movies we see characters who are driven by love, who go on these grand journeys and fight these battles so much bigger than them all because of love. love in whatever shape or form.

this ancestor is someone who died at war. they may have been a general, for some of you, while for others of you they were a common soldier. they were likely drafted, or had a legal or familial obligation to fulfil, and the only thing that got them through this was the love for a woman.

he would sit up at night thinking of her, looking at the picture he carried around of her, and telling himself he had to make it out to get back to her.

this ancestor is likely japanese (specifically ainu), chinese, brazilian or cuban.

GROUP THREE

cards · ten of challenges, page of cups, ten of pentacles, the fool.

channelled songs · i’m that girl by beyoncé. que me quedes tú by shakira. just the lonely talking again by whitney houston.

hey there group three ♡ this is not really an ancestor… as, ancestor -- at least to me -- denotes someone who died many, many, many years ago. decades and centuries ago. but this person who is reaching out to you is someone who died fairly recently, as this is your father.

in life, your father may have been a man overburdened by stress and worry. he aged fast and young because of the hard life he lived, and died young because of it.

he had a lot of love for you and your family, and took a lot of pride in the life he was trying to build for you, but it was harder than he ever could have ever expected.

he had never been prepared for the harsh reality of life, but he did the best he could with the hand he was given.

GROUP FOUR

cards · queen of pentacles, king of pentacles, the devil, the magician.

channelled songs · a departue - audiotree live version by la dispute. the lady in my life by michael jackson. the bomb dot come v2.0 by sleeping with sirens.

hey there group four ♡ instead of just one ancestor, this is two ancestors who are reaching out to you. a pair of ancestors. soulmates. two people who lived together and died together; who gave their all to each other until the very end.

and then even after the end, in the divine realm as your guides watching over you.

they may have been star-crossed lovers, forbidden to be together by their respective families -- or by the culture and society in which they were born and in which they had to live. and so they ran away.

for some of you, this effort to run away was futile and they decided to take their lives, together, to end this once and for all. for others of you, they were able to get away and have their happy ending.

these ancestors may be from mexico, bosnia, greece. america especially during the antebellum period also comes to mind.

[kurithedweeb]

Dear Sir Garroth,

Allow me to be plain with you, Sir. I'm angry at you. Pissed at you, really. Extraordinarily pissed, if you couldn't tell from the scorched edge of this letter you will likely never see. I'm not even sure why I'm still writing this seeing as I tried to burn it before I finished the first sentence. Perhaps only because it's something to do.

I was stabbed the day before the battle ended, do you remember? By a frost dagger. I would have appreciated the warning that the cold will run through your veins, perhaps from a man who used to wield one himself? You know how the cold afflicts me, you bastard. No matter, my blood is plenty warm with hurt now. Since you first bound it on the field, my stitches have been torn thrice. I collapsed the moment I stepped through the portal and had to be helped into town to see Donna.

Though she may be a wondrously talented medic, Donna is no healer or witch. There's only so much she could do and so she's ordered I remain on bedrest until I've healed to her liking. I'm loathe to bring that woman's wrath down on myself, hence why I am now writing pointless letters to men stranded in different realms. She has four children now, Donna; Yip, twin boys Lello and Rollo, and a girl named Luca. She's only a babe, Luca, still in her swaddling, but the twins must be nearly ten. I tell you this because it's been fifteen years. We've been gone fifteen years. You may still be gone years and years.

Levin is grown now. Lord, even. He resembles you very much, all keen blue eyes and wisps of blond curls falling in his face, but his mannerisms are alike his mothers'. He has a faint trace of your accent in his words, too. He did not recognize me. I'm told he was too young when we left to remember us properly, though Malachi supposedly does. He's a trader these days, out at sea with Logan when we arrived home. Levin didn't speak with me long, as busy all day as our lady is—was. He did tell me he'd been excited to meet us both, that his brother and Uncle Dante had told him stories of us as he'd grown, and he'd known that if we were anything at all like how they'd described then we were good men he'd rather get to know.

Dante's grown old. I last saw him hours ago, and now he is head guard rather than the slight boy fresh from the academy we knew him as. The dark circles under his eyes make me worry he hasn't had a proper rest in years, and he's thin in a way I wish I didn't recognize. Do you remember the night he snuck away to handle the O'khasian archers? You might not. I've found even so soon after to my eyes the days and nights blend together at times. I remember the great tears rolling down his face when you and I removed the arrow and picked the remains from his face. That night left a scar on either cheek, rough ones shaped like starbursts or comets. The shape far-off lights make in the night when you squint just right. He felt so small in the cradle of my arms then. He's of a height with me now, standing eye to eye.

We missed their entire lives in the Matron's realm. Gone in a blink. Our boys, our brother, our friends, they have all moved past us. Irony of irony, they've sent us off into the Matron's embrace already, Sir Garroth Ro'Meave. Buried us and moved on.

Because of your actions, we have missed the whole of their lives, the lives we could have shared with them. Should have. All for what? For a man you hadn't seen in at least a decade, one you no longer knew at all?

Everything has changed because of what you did, you ass. I should tell you I will never forgive this deed of yours. And yet I miss you already.

Sincerely yours,

Your second-in-command, Sir Laurance Zvahl of Phoenix Drop.