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djarintreble · 2 years

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my two favorite girls || e.munson

pairing: dad!Eddie x fem!reader

warnings/tags: the full domestication of Eddie Munson, vol2 didn't happen because I said so, vol2 spoilers/changes, Eddie was meant to be a girl dad, trauma flashbacks, straight fluff omg, this was fully inspired by this tik tok

a/n: yeah I'm definitely making this a little series of one shots. I couldn't help what I chose as Eddie's daughters name. I've always loved this name myself so I had to. self indulgent im sorry. leave any dad!Eddie hc below and ill write some more drabbles cause I'm a sucker for paternal comfort characters.

—

“Do you want to hear the song that saved the world?” Eddie asked, his eyes wide and the biggest grin was plastered on his face.

“Here we go again.” You jokingly rolled your eyes, folding laundry on the couch. You had one leg pulled up underneath you and the other laid against the play mat.

“Your dad played the most metal concert in the history of metal concerts and saved the beautiful princess from the dragon.” He continued on. He lifted his arms in the air to imitate a dragon and looked up at you to signify that you were in fact the said princess.

Little Arwen didn’t understand the context as she was only over a year old but she loved when her daddy told her stories. His years of being a dungeon master equipped him to be a girl dad. She was Eddie made over and would always smile and giggle loudly along with her dad’s antics. You would joke how annoyed you were that you carried her for nine months just for her to be his carbon copy but really you loved that she got his beautiful wavy curls and bright brown eyes. As she grew, she began to have his personality as well, something you both hoped wouldn't get harder with age.

“With a little song that goes like-“ Eddie grabbed her small pink ukulele, making sure it was as tuned as it could be for a toy, and began to play the familiar riff. The toy ukulele made the metal song sound so silly, contradicting Eddie's complete serious face. He was head banging to the sound of a toy instrument playing Master of Puppets when his own guitar was literally three feet away from him. You couldn't hold back your laugh as Arwen threw her hands in the air and babbled along with Eddie when he began to softly sing the lyrics. It was like she was determined to sing with him despite being too stubborn to say her first word yet. When he imitated the drums, he put his face right up against Arwen’s who instinctively grabbed onto his face as he continued playing. Eddie's drum sounds, babbles and giggles filled the room.

“She loves you, Eds.” Your heart was full at the scene that played before you.

Eddie mentioning the events that happened a few years ago brought a familiar sting to your chest. You don’t always reflect on it as it does nothing but bring up the trauma but as he told the tale of the upside down in a way that sounded like a fairytale to your daughter, you couldn’t help it. You remember not knowing if Eddie would survive.

That was when he proposed.

“When we get out of this mess-“ he was interrupted by a series of coughs, caused by the huge gash on his throat. You applied more pressure to the wounds you couldn’t wrap yet. “Let’s get out of here. Start a new life. I’ll get you a ring to make it official and we’ll get jobs and a house. Have a kid or two.”

“Is this your way of proposing, Munson?”

“Maybe” He smiled. You couldn’t help but laugh in the mix of your tears. Here he was, on his deathbed, proposing to you.

“That means you better fight to stay alive then. You’re not giving up on me that easily.” You clutched onto his puffer vest, attempting to sit him up more in your lap.

“Is that a yes?” He mumbled, his eyebrows bunched up in question.

“Of course, Eddie. I will always say yes.”

“Good.” He smiled, content with your answer. “I love you, sweetheart. From the moment I laid eyes on you.” He raised a hand to your cheek and brushed the soft skin with his thumb, admiring you and holding onto this moment in case he didn’t have anymore.

“Y/N!” You heard Dustin yelling your name.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N I’m coming!”

“Henderson, help!” You yelled back, you needed all the support to help get Eddie back through to Hawkins where he could be tended to.

“Y/N-“

“Sweetheart, you okay?” Eddie brought you back to reality as he crawled over to the couch between your legs. He recognized the zoned out face and it broke his heart to realize that he may have brought you back to that moment when talking to Arwen. He cupped your face and brushed your cheek like he did that same night except this time, with clean, healed hands. “I’m here, We’re here. We’re okay.” He smiled. You looked at him him with a smile of relief.

“Y-yes. It just comes back sometimes. But yes, I’m okay.”

He took your wrists in his hands and helped pull you away from the laundry and onto the floor. He sat against the couch and embraced you between his legs now and you motioned Arwen to come sit in your lap as your little family cuddled together on the floor. She clumsily made her way over as she was still getting the hang of crawling. You both praised her as she smiled in your arms. You laid your head back on Eddie’s chest as he made silly faces at your daughter to make her laugh.

“My two favorite girls.” Eddie whispered, sitting his chin on your head. He wrapped his arms around you to reach over and ruffle Arwens curly brown hair.

You took a deep breath and smiled. It was moments like this that kept you grounded. Things really were okay. You and Eddie were living the life you dreamed of years ago when you were merely teenagers in a small town.

You brushed over a faded scar on Eddie’s arm before turning back to face him, Arwen still in your lap. He raised his eyebrows.

“I love you.” You whispered. His face softened at the sentiment.

“I love you too, sweetheart. From the moment I laid eyes on you.” He gave you a quick kiss that was interrupted by Arwen who crawled in-between you two. She did not like being left out and begged for both of your attention.

“I love you too, my beautiful beautiful Ari. You’re my saving grace.” He pressed his forehead against hers and you noticed they both scrunched up their noses revealing a parallel image that made your heart melt even more.

One day, you and Eddie could tell her the real tale of Hawkins and the upside down. How her parents met, how they almost lost one another and how they promised to never leave each other’s side. But for now, you were holding onto to any and all small moments like these because you know you’re never promised tomorrow.

#Eddie munson #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson x fem!reader #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #vol2 didn't happen #joseph quinn #Eddie munson girl dad #Eddie Munson playing a hot pink ukulele come on

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mirkwoodmunson · 2 years

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bad day

eddie munson x f!y/n

2.3k

you thought you were getting over the anxiety, bad dreams, the panic attacks. but you find even just a bad day can let it all flood back.

contains: established relationship, soft!eddie, angst, vol2 spoilers/rewrite, living together tw: ptsd, flashbacks, cursing, anger struggle, trauma, anxiety/panic attacks, mental health struggle, pet names a/n: takes place not too long after the end of vol2, eddie is very much alive thanks to you but with significant impact to your mental well-being after what you went through to get him out. disc: i do not give permission to share my content outside of tumblr; please reblog and do not repost; my content (even sfw) is not meant for minors; i am not responsible for the media you consume online.

You mutter, hot and spat, under your breath as you fumble with your purse and keys and a book you’d brought to work, a few papers you had to bring home with you ruffling in the breeze. Your stride is swift and hurried as you cross the parking lot to your junked up vehicle, but halfway to it the book slips from its cover and falls to the ground. Without something to hold the papers against they flutter and get pulled from your hand by a particularly mischievous gust of wind, carried away by it. The keyring clatters to the pavement as well, and you’re left stunned in place as your bag hangs off your wrist.

Something, vile, rises in your chest. Something very feral and very anxious, something you haven’t felt in a while now, as you suddenly feel like control is being taken away from you.

I just dropped some stuff… it’s fine… why am I getting so angry..??

A long, soft inhale as you close your eyes and count — that’s what Eds had said, right? — close your eyes and count till you feel it shrink.

You get to thirty and it only grows a little, and with an impatient growl you roll your eyes and stoop to pick up the book and keys. The papers, you decide, are a lost cause. You physically cannot bring yourself to walk all across the lot to collect them, instead walking right over a page on your continued way to the car. You open the door, throw everything into the passenger seat, and drop into the driver’s with a huff.

You start the car…

You, try, starting the car…

The car chugs and chugs, sputtering as you grip the keys with ferocity and turn the car on…

The car does not turn on.

You throw your head back and scream.

You just want to go home.

This morning hadn’t been so bad — you’d spilled some coffee, sure, maybe forgot to get the usual goodbye kiss from a sleeping Eddie before rushing out the door. You’d stubbed a toe and bumped into a door on your way in, of course you did, you were rushing and twenty minutes late.

Why am I getting so angry..??

You find yourself back inside your place of work, from which you had been desperately trying to flee the entire day. You find yourself asking for a ride home from, that coworker.

“What,” he begins, and you slowly close your eyes and sag a bit. “Don’t know how to start a car??” He smacks a surface and busts into laughter at his own poor joke, before giving you a look of ‘what’s your problem?’ when you just stand there with your eyes closed.

“Jeff,” you say very softly, eyes open again but lidded and tired and unemotional. “Can you give me a ride or not?”

“Awww, c’mon,” he chortles and leans in.

Oh. You want to hurt his face so badly.

“Let’s hear the magic woooord~!”

There’s a beat, and then, it happens! He's done it! You grin! You laugh and chuckle and nod and toss your head back in hearty laughter before bringing your forehead forward with mighty purpose, grinning maniacally as you connect it with his nose, with a crack with a pop with a sob and blood begins gushing from Jeff’s nose all down his shirt as he cries and cries and—

“Weeeeell??” He coos, still sporting that stupid fucking smile.

You’re lifted from your daydream and just stare at him a moment, weighing the options in your head, you stare at him and he starts to get a little confused with your silence, before you turn quick on your heel and throw up a little two-fingered ‘peace-out.’

“Nevermind,” you say flatly. “I’ll walk.”

And you walk. You could call someone, ask for a ride. But something in you seems to almost search for something new to be upset about, something you can let your frustration latch onto, for it to have a purpose.

It’s dark by the time you reach the trailer park, the streetlamps on and shedding their warm light over you as you breathe heavily and walk with fast steps, your things gathered in your arms from your car. You mutter and grumble and curse the whole way, pursing your lips as you speed up with purpose when you spot yours and Eddie’s trailer.

He must’ve been watching for you, because when you’re a few feet from the porch the door swings open and he rushes out, eyes wide and hands held up and open questioningly.

“There you are, wha— where’ve you been I’ve been calling your work and Nancy’s and—“

“Eds — please — don’t touch me right now,” are your first words to him, breathless, as you hold up hands as well, but they’re defensive and stop him in his tracks before he can come any closer. You avoid looking up, seeing his reaction to what you say, as you breeze past him and simply drop everything onto the counter in the kitchen inside. You clutch the edge of the surface and straighten your arms, leaning on them as you catch your breath from the long walk.

When you ask him not to touch you Eddie immediately goes quiet and lowers his hands a bit, watches you leave a foot of space between the two of you as you swerve around him and inside. He is anything but hurt, instead concern striking something in his heart as he turns and watches you for a second, closing the door slowly, quietly, behind him, as you try to settle and collect yourself. He can see you tremble, even though you hadn’t noticed it he could see the flyaway hairs practically vibrating even with the door closed and no airflow. The way your clothes seemed to buzz on you, following your arms down to the white-knuckle grip you had on the counter where your very muscles seemed to be unable to drop that strained tension.

“y/n?” He says very softly, tilting his head a little.

You let your head drop, hair falling around your face.

“Eddie. I just had a bad day. It’s fine,” your voice is flat and cool enough to make him shiver a little.

He’d seen you shut down before, it wasn’t anything new to him, but it had always been for good reason. And, the last reason had been… well. It had been more than reasonable at the time, but now it had him incredibly worried and confused.

It hadn’t been the first time you’d said that to him either, asking him not to touch you. He couldn’t drop that bit, couldn’t stop hearing it in his head. The way you’d said it the first time. Curled into yourself and backed against the wall, watching with weeping eyes, while he was grinning in his hospital bed trying to beckon you closer.

“y/n it’s okay, I’m okay — please just… Please come he—“

“Please, don’t touch me right now,” you’d managed to whimper out, brows knitting tighter and more tears falling as it visibly made him stutter a bit, hand hesitating in the air wanting to reach further for you but faltering at your request. He withdrew it back into his lap but kept watching you, grin since faded and replaced with that look he had now, in the trailer — that broken-hearted concern.

Eddie rubs the back of his neck as he keeps watching you in the kitchen, trying to physically remove those thoughts from his mind, trying not to crowd you but wanting to be near so he could make sure you were okay. He wanted to obey your request but he also wanted — so badly — to take those few steps to you and pull you tight into his arms.

“y/n,” he says again, still softly, but trying to get you to look at him, to look up, to let him see where it hurt so he could make it better, even though he knew there wasn’t much that would help right now.

“y/n, c’mon… please, talk to me,” he keeps his voice so gentle and level and it makes your shoulders slump a little.

When you don’t react he takes a step forward, “baby, please…” still no reaction, so he steps forward again, just outside the kitchen now. He could reach out and hold your hand, but he knows it won’t help unless you want him to.

“I’m- I’m here. You can talk to me. Just…” Eddie’s voice cracks a little, “just, please. Please don’t shut me out again…”

Your whole body is shivering, trembling as you keep your grounding death grip on the counter.

You feel like you’re back there again. Back in the upside down. You can't stop or block the whirlwind that carries your mind miles and miles away.

It’s so vivid it chokes you. You can feel it. You can feel the burning ferocity of your effort as you drag Eddie’s limp body back to the upside down version of Wayne’s trailer, back to the mini gate, Dustin wailing as he tries but can’t, tries so so hard to help but he’s sobbing desperately and it makes you so so deeply angry that he’s already mourning Eddie. Your throat is raw from screaming but you keep screaming anyway,

“DUSTIN PLEASE!!! PLEASE HELP ME, PLEASE!!!” You don’t cry, you can’t, but you scream and wail and shriek with the effort of it.

You feel powerless.

You have no control.

Your boyfriend is bleeding out and there’s nothing you can do about it but scream and pull.

Something feral and anxious in your chest.

Why am I getting so angry..??

Eddie has to physically pull you from yourself, pull you from that dark room in your head, ground and tether you to reality as he finally grabs your wrists with the tenderest of touches, pulls carefully, gently on your hands till they are removed from the counter.

“Hey hey hey hey,” he says quickly, anxiously. Why is he breathing so fast.

His big brown eyes are right in front of yours so they’re the only things you need to focus on, they’re wide — why are they so wide — and skipping between yours, searching in you to find the rest of your mind and bring it forth from where it dwelled in the depths.

“Okay, okay, slow deep-deep breaths. Deep in, 2 - 3 - 4, deep out 2 - 3 - 4 , just like that. In, 2 - 3 - 4, and out 2 - 3 - 4...”

As you attempt to follow his instructions you realize, it’s so hard to take a breath right now, you realize you’re shivering so hard your teeth chatter, you realize your throat is a little raw and you realize you have to keep blinking to see past the tears as you cry and cry and cry. You realize you’ve been screaming and Eddie is panicking trying to calm you down because he knows. He knows what just played in your head, he knows you’re not okay, and he knows that you had a very bad day today. He knows you need help, whether you ask for it or not.

“C’mon, y/n, you gotta breathe, baby, just breathe. Look at me, sweetheart, yeah? Look at me,” he lets go of your wrists and maneuvers you, lifts you up as you weep to sit you on the countertop, bringing you more to his eye-level. You feel distant from your body and your mouth feels weird, like your teeth are vibrating.

Eddie holds your shoulders and physically mimics steady breathing, slowly lifting them up and then lowering to encourage your breathing further, trying to help you find that pattern, that routine.

In, 2 - 3 - 4, out 2 - 3 - 4 . In, 2 - 3 - 4, out 2 - 3 - 4.

Eddie nods quickly as you start to find it, start focusing on him more, sees you coming to.

“Good girl, there you go. There you go... It’s alright... You’re okay, y/n, you’re okay... It’s alright... I got you... I promise... I got you, it’s alright... I’m here. I promise; I’m here...” He whispers his praises and reassurance, breathing with you, thumbs stroking your arms gently to keep you grounded and present and looking at him. Your eyes are hooded and dim, endlessly a waterfall of tears, but they manage to stay focused on his — bright and shining and acting as your beacon out of that dark, dark room.

When your sounds have settled to gentle heaves, stuttering breaths as you continue to weep quietly, Eddie pets damp hair away from your cheeks, forehead, looking you over and pampering you, wiping droplets from your jaw and chin and using the bottom of his shirt to softly, carefully pat away the damp streaks on your flushed cheeks. He keeps talking to you all the while, and his voice — his voice is what you latch onto. You feel the rumble of it, the tone easing your frayed nerves and settling that white-hot feeling, that idea, that you had no control.

You had control, Eddie made sure you did, looking at you every time he moved to see if you’d protest.

You were home, you were safe, you had Eddie. You were in control of yourself. You just had a bad day. It would be okay.

When you feel like you’re finally pieced back together, albeit still fragile, you just sink. Your muscles give out and you sink into Eddie who readily gathers you up in his arms and just holds you for a little bit. You’re still sat on the counter, with Eddie stood between your knees, curled into his chest as he wraps arms around you and rests his nose in your hair. He holds you there and closes his eyes, still murmuring to you and reassuring you — he was here, he was whole, he had you, it would be okay. He wasn’t going anywhere. You were both alive and breathing.

“Eds,” you squeak out, barely audible.

“Mm?”

“…thank you.”

He kisses your hair, your temple, and then lifts you up into his arms. You wrap yours around his neck and hide your face there too, letting him carry you to bed.

#eddie munson fic #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x f!reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #mine

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yoditorian · 2 years

Text

cross my heart

eddie/gn!reader

look it’s less than 12 hours until we get vol2 and i’ve convinced myself that this idiot isn’t going to make it - so i wrote a little baby fix it in case something horrible happens (this can absolutely be read in conjunction with crush, but works as a stand alone too)

main masterlist // series masterlist

word count: 2k // warnings: language, injuries, blood, overuse of italics, as a general rule for my work 18+ pls no babies

“You thought now was a good time to ask?”

“Well, we might die.”

“And that train of thought led you to asking me out for ice cream?”

Eddie’s fluttering his eyelashes at you as though you’re not standing in some parallel dimension, ready and waiting to keep a hundred hungry bat things preoccupied long enough for your friends to slip through the gate at the lake. Live bait. Because that’s always gone so well.

“Back me up here, Dust.” You turn to the boy in the vain hope of finding some semblance of reason, praying to anything and everything that he’ll spurt some words of wisdom that might leave room for you to dodge Eddie’s question entirely, but it’s no use.

Dustin reluctantly raises his head from the tangle of cables by the amps and shakes his head with a grimace,“

I’m not getting in the middle of this.”

You glance back at Eddie over your shoulder as Dustin’s plugging the last of the power cables into position, only to find him still looking at you. Eyebrows raised, hands out at his sides, that expectant little smile on his face. Damn it - now you’re fighting to keep your own face straight.

Another life, maybe.

Robin’s voice over the walkie saves you from making a fool of yourself even further, though you stumble a little in your haste to grab it from Dustin’s abandoned backpack.

“We’re in position, whenever you’re ready.”

“Roger that. Eyes on the skies, people” You drop the walkie back into the bag and reach out to wrap your hand around the neck of Eddie’s guitar, it’d be fun if you weren’t all about to risk your lives, “Showtime.”

You take the end of the final cable from Dustin’s outstretched hand, plugging the jack into the guitar, and carry it over to Eddie. Honestly, you’re surprised he let you even look directly at it, let alone pick the thing up. You could have sworn you heard him muttering something to it when he first brought it up.

“Hey,” He puts one hand gently over your own on the neck of the guitar, “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I just - if there was ever a time to shoot my shot, I guess it’s now, right?”

And this time you can’t help but smile, because he’s not exactly wrong.

“Save the world and I’ll think about it, Munson.” You wink when he releases your hand, sliding the strap over his head and running his fingers over the strings as you scoop up the makeshift spear by his feet to take your position at the head of the trailer. Dustin stands at the opposite end, the both of you ready to swing at any bats that come too close for comfort.

It’s like they know. Dark spots silhouetted in the far distance against the glowing red storm, rising up one by one between flashes of lightning. Growing closer with every note Eddie plays. You risk a glance over your shoulder, just for a second, to watch him throw his head back as his fingers fly over the fretboard. And he was the one who said he was a runner, claimed he’s not the hero type. Bullshit. It takes effort to pull your eyes away, to refocus your attention on the approaching creatures. Adrenaline thrums in your veins, you’re ready.

And then they’re swarming. Swirling around you like a cloud, a hurricane. All gnashing teeth and whipping tails and beating wings, you’re lost to it. You lose sight of the boys, of the edge of the roof, of your own hand in front of your face. Any light that might have filtered through from the distant storm is blocked by the descending creatures. The sound of Eddie’s playing is drowned out by the screeching in your ears, so loud you’re sure it’s the last thing you’ll ever hear.

Their teeth tear at your clothes and skin as you lash out at them with the spear, the accompanying squeals of pain as the spiked tip sinks into flesh is frequent enough that for a moment you think you’re winning. You think you might actually make it out of this almost whole.

Until a tail wraps itself around your ankles, and you’re down. You feel the back of your head split open on the tile of the flat roof as the bat pulls your feet out from under you, drags you to the edge until there’s nothing to catch you. Suspended in the air for one long moment, and then you’re falling. Crashing to the ground in a heap of blood and bruises.

They pull up as one, hundreds, thousands of them, just as quickly as they arrived. Writhing and angry and baying for blood, hurtling back towards the gate at Lover’s Lake, leaving you disoriented. Ears ringing, you can only hope the others had enough time to make it through.

Someone, somewhere, calls your name. It’s weak, but it’s there, though peeling yourself off of the ground enough to look for the source has every inch of your body screaming. You just about manage to lock your elbows, wedge your shoulders in place enough to sit up as the gravel bites into the palms of your hands. But looking around, there’s no one there. You lost sight of the boys in the swarm and the fear that they were carried off sits low and cold in the pit of your stomach. You’re hearing things, you’re sure of it. It’s just you now.

No - someone is definitely shouting for you.

The bones of your neck creak as you lift your head enough to find the trailer, straining to see something when a head of curly hair appears on the roof.

Dustin.

He doesn’t look too worse for wear, barring a cut on his forehead. Thank fuck. He’s sliding the ladder off of the roof and back down over the side of the house the moment he sees you, clambering down faster than you’ve ever seen him move to tackle you into a hug. The cuts sting as he squeezes you, and you’re not sure if it’s blood or tears that are wetting his shoulder, but you don’t have the energy to care. You can buy him a new hoodie if he wants.

“Eddie?” You croak as Dustin finally loosens his grip.

“He’s not moving.”

And your blood runs cold.

People have died before. Every time another monster from the Upside Down rears its ugly head, people die. But you knew something felt different about this time. Nothing has ever reached through before, not without having a link already. The demogorgans’ main concern always seemed to be food, the Mind Flayer was after Will and Eleven, but Vecna? It’s different this time, there’s been a tiny voice in the back of your head since Chrissy died - you knew this one wasn’t going to go the way you wanted. You’ve never been so disappointed in being right.

Now it’s just you, Dustin, and the barely concealed fear in his eyes. Time to be the grown up.

“Alright, help me up.”

And he does, bless him. He hoists you up from the ground and takes most of your weight on his shoulders as you both shuffle around the trailer, towards where Eddie lays. Your eyes are squeezed shut against the throbbing pain in your head, content enough to let Dustin guide you, until you kick a rock that twangs discordantly. You crack them open to find Eddie’s guitar at your feet, utterly destroyed.

But there he is, only a few feet away, curled on his side with his back to you.

Dustin helps you limp over, lowers you to your knees behind Eddie’s head, and deposits himself on his other side.

Every inch of skin you can see is littered with bite marks, his clothes slashed by claws and tails and teeth. There’s a whole chunk taken out of his shoulder, steadily seeping his blood into the dirt beneath him. You’re kneeling in a puddle of it.

“Eddie?” You’re gentle as you shift him onto his back, laying his head on your knees. There’s a deep gash in his forehead, the hair at his temple caked in blood, and he’s cold and pale and - and you can’t let him die. You’re not losing him like this.

Though, you’re not sure when he became yours to lose.

“Well I must be dead if I’m seeing an angel.”

The fact he’s alive outweighs the horrendous pickup line, you have to give him that at least.

“Nobody’s dying today, Munson,” You’re firm, certain, as you ignore your screaming injuries to tug your jacket off and ball it up against the gaping chunk missing from his shoulder, “How are you supposed to kiss me after our ice cream date if you’re dead?”

“You’d let me kiss you? You’re full of surprises.”

“You gotta live first, okay?”

He swipes a thumb over the teeth marks in your cheek, smearing the drying blood over your jaw. Dazed, but mesmerised by the trail his touch leaves on your skin.

“Sure thing, beautiful. Cross my heart.”

And then his eyes slip shut and he’s gone, slumped in your lap, chest barely rising with laboured breaths.

“We have to get back through before the gates close!” Dustin’s doing the math in his head, you can see it. There’s no way the both of you can lift him through the mini gate in the trailer’s roof, and you won’t make it to the lake before it closes. Your only hope is that the others made it through, that they’re waiting in the trailer on the other side.

You take one long look at Eddie’s closed eyes, the very real chance that they’ll stay that way if you don’t get a move on and do something.

“Help me with him.”

It’s five long, long days before he opens them again.

Slowly, but they do. He looks worse under the stark hospital lights. Pale and clammy, bruised and bandaged and squinting against the strip lights overhead. You’re still there, in the chair that you planted by his bedside the moment they let you in. The chair you parked your ass in and flat out refused to leave until he woke up. The boys have been a steady stream in and out of the other chair, sitting by the window, any time they could get in. Robin’s been a regular, bringing you snacks and sitting in your place when you had to pee. It’s safe to say Eddie Munson has been well and truly adopted into this dysfunctional little family of yours.

You fluff the pillows, help him sit up, and pour him a glass of water.

His eyes widen as Callaghan passes the window into the hall, but you’re there with a gentle hand in his hair and that same soft smile you turned on his way back in the boathouse at the start of all this.

“Me and the others have already given our statements about the bear attack. So much for our Spring Break camping trip, right? You came out with the worst of it, so it’s okay if you can’t remember anything. They’ll understand.”

“Bear attack?” He sounds awful. Hoarse and scratchy, but alive. There’s not a lot more you could ask for.

“Mhm, big one.”

He takes a sip of the water, uncharacteristically quiet, and you can’t help but smile at him. The self proclaimed coward, who risked his life for a group of kids from his D and D group and their assortment of mismatched attachments. Who stared demon bats from a parallel dimension in the face and laughed. Who saved the life of every one of your friends. It takes you a minute to realise he’s watching you watch him. You’re so caught up in your own thoughts, you almost miss his next words.

“Marry me.”

Oh, this boy. This boy is trouble. This boy is beautiful, wide eyed, heartbreaking trouble.

“You promised me an ice cream date, remember?”

“Okay, but what are you doing after?”

You can’t help your laughter, can’t help the little tear that escapes the corner of your eye as it finally sinks in that he’s okay. He’s alive.

“Can’t say no to a guy in a hospital bed. I get pity points.” There it is. That smile. The very same one he gave you on the roof of his trailer, guitar in hand, ready to be the hero.

“We’ll see, hotshot.”

taglist (add yourself to my stranger things taglist here):

@bee-dameron @generalfoolish @levylovegood @chicorogers

#501 universe #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #stranger things #liz does words

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redflagsandbanners · 2 years

Note

theyr in the upside down and someone gets injured and robin enters

serious mode

full on guns blazing not taking shit from anyone maybe even yelling orders in russian then correcting herself

Steve is like bleeding from the demobats and losing blood and on their way to Eddie's trailer in the Upside-Down, he kneels over (because vol2 is my mortal enemy) and is all like 'you have to leave me' and so Robin is like 'okay, change of tactics, dingus'.

She sighs once, shakes her head, walks up to him and lifts him like a sack of potatoes over both shoulders in a fireman's carry.

Pretty much the rest of the fruity four lose their absolute mind.

'Buckley?!'

'Put me down!'

'Robin, how -'

'We are going'. Robin barks before they get even more derailed. 'Nancy, I have a Sig P238 on my ankle. Take it'.

'You have a gun on you?'

'Yes I have a gun on me, can we just get him out of here?'

'Who the fuck are - Put me down right now!'

'Shut up, Steve. We are going. Nancy, clear the way for us and, Eddie, I might need you to switch me in the middle of the walk. One foot in front of the other, both of you, move'.

They both obey the absolute order.

#russian robin #casually carrying a gun #ordering people around #anonask

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eddiescumfilledsock · 2 years

Text

thinking happy scenarios about eddie to cope and pretend vol2 didn't happen with <3 also idk dnd stuff so like if anyone who reads this knows dnd or wants to add on please feel free!!! I love talking about him

-ok so like imagine if there was an online dnd game thing that you and eddie play where you randomly got asigned the same team with

-after awhile of playing and mainly talking to the team as a whole about the strategies and stuff you decide to dm him privately since he mentioned liking the same rock song too! you dont like all the same bands but you end up having quite a bit in common!

-eddie starts almost looking foward to his online campaigns more than the ones in real life because youre playing with him. hes eagerly awaiting for the school bell to ring so he can rush home and sit in that same shitty kitchen chair in front of his clunky computer to talk to the person whos quickly becoming his best friend

-the way you can ease his nerves or any anguish that comes from living in a place full of people that would rather him gone with just a few words makes it feel like maybe the world isn't such a hateful place to people like him

-after some more time you start taking about more personal things like where you live and school life, even sending some cool pictures from around town and your rooms and such but! surprise! you guys are in the same city! and youre obvi like !?!? because what are the odds! playing with people all over the usa and you just happen to live in the same little town as eachother

-so you guys agree to meet up at like an ice cream shop or something since you have gotten so close and like on the day of the meeting you tell him what clothes youll be wearing and something vuage like your hair color so he can find you easier and since hes never seen you he is just expecting an average looking person not the literal prettiest human hes ever laid eyes on because what ethereal as fuck being like that would play dnd right?,,,,right???

-so when he gets there there arent many people and definitely only one wearing what you described, youre turned away looking at the big menue so he casually taps on your shoulder to get your attention and is about to say the name you gave him only to be about knocked off his gd feet and is left Absolutly breathless, feeling like all the blood in his body is rushing to his face to give him the prettiest blush

-youre obviously not much better either becuase like have you seen that man???? his big baby cow brown eyes alone could make your heart explode from your chest in a flurry of hearts and butterflies, was this really the guy that youve been kicking fictional monster ass with?

-hes starting to regret not taking more time to tame his mess of hair or pick out something other to wear than the same old leather jacket that hasnt been washed in months, hell even just put on one more spray of cologne, did he remember to use deodorant? god he sure hopes so

-after a few seconds of you guys just staring at eachother you are able to gather yourself enough to mutter a quite hi with a shy little wave, and eddie thinks he found the person hes desined to marry because youre so kind,smart AND cute yet still listen to hard rock and play dnd? wowza, you really are a breath of freah air from the large majority of dicks hes forced to be around daily

-you guys start to try and make awkward small talk, not sure what unspoken boundaries that the other has and fear of potential embarresmnt but when you both ask for the same icecream flavor at the same time you cant help but laugh a little and eddie can instantly feel a lot of the tension leave his body at such a soothing sound, helping the easy conversations that youve had hundreds of online carrying over to the real world soon after

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #this turned out longer than i thought akjdjdf idk if anyones gonna read this but i tried making it a little more choharent than the word-#vomit it started out with just incase lmao #im not a writer but i love this man sm i have to get the thoughts out somehow #sorry for any misspellings or typos or shitty grammar lshdhdhf i have the brain power of a toddler

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ninthhousesteel · 2 years

Text

ST4 VOL2 SPOILERS: selection of posts written during my first watch of volume 2

people bringing up good points like why Was noah harnessed if nothing happened

what is this slo mo fighting shit (#don't get me wrong i love nancy with a gun *hair twirl* but sometimes slo mo doesn't need to be used)

where is the writing for this season, why is all the dialogue cliche witticisms, why is all the "character development" just shitty relationship drama, why did stranger things get marvel-ified

we got milevened and stancyed and byler and ronance got FUCKED over not to mention will, robin, steve, and nancy's characters got reduced to their fucking love lives straight people stop writing challenge

god im only halfway through ep 9 and i'm over it why are they just doing cliches, killing characters, and promoting a stancy revival

blood balloons best part of volume 2 fr

the fucking montage set to master of puppets that was one of the worst things i've seen from stranger things other than these whole fucking 2 episodes (#yes it was a very cool scene for eddie but the other characters did Not need to be included in it and the fact that they were made it seem goofy with the song choice)

max and lucas you belong with me vevo official music video

also why make robin hyper quirky fixated on her crush i can honestly barely tolerate steve nancy and robin in these episodes this is avengers endgame quality writing and thats NOT a compliment its actually an insult because fuck the duffers

STANCY BULLSHIT i actually hate steve in volume 2 he's not in my favorite character list anymore can he stop nancy stop looking at his lips what the fuck (#was there actually plot in vol 2 or just love triangles #thanks max and lucas for Carrying)

yk what i hate stancy actually i'm not sorry

#st4 spoilers

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motsmunson · 2 years

Text

east coast

✰ summary: you have to go back into the upside-down, but you’re not going to let your boyfriend fend off the demobats alone, even if it risks both of you.

✰ words: 2.3k

✰ warnings: vol2 spoilers, character death, swearing, mentions of alcohol and drugs

✰ a/n: new sideblog! hope you enjoy, will hopefully be posting more ST and eddie content over the summer

my eddie playlist / ao3 / masterlist

Looking across the trailer, Eddie was bouncing in his seat. He was twirling one of the rings around his finger, a nervous tick of his, while his eyes darted from one object to the next.

“Okay, you’re making me feel crazy now,” you sat next to him. Your fingers interlocked with his, squeezing his hand, forcing him to make eye contact with you.

It had been a bit since you’d seen him this physically nervous, even over the course of the past few days. He usually internalized whatever he was feeling until it was bluntly obvious, like right now. But given the circumstances, he wasn’t the only one on edge.

Phase one of the plan would be underway momentarily. You’d crawl through the gate that ripped on the ceiling into the Upside Down again - this time with all the weapons and gear you could carry. Eddie had his garbage can shield with the spikes in one hand, the homemade spear in the other, and his bandana fastened around his head.

“Have I ever told you that I think you’re crazy for loving me?” Eddie titled his head, his wide smile infectious. He felt calmer looking at you, remembering you were wearing one of his baggy metal shirts and your own green jacket over it - equipped with the war paint under your eyes and the dagger in your hand. You opted out for the matching bandanas, but Eddie had packed an extra one just in case.

“You’ve mentioned it once or twice,” you said. He looked so soft with the evening light shining through the blinds and glowing on his skin. His lips looked full and his jawline was etched perfectly. Your hand reached out to play with a handful of his hair, his nose scrunching as your twirled some of it around your finger.

“When we get back, outta this mess,” Eddie was standing up but still facing you. “When I hold that damn diploma in my hands.” He outstretched his arm, offered his hand, which you took, and stood up with him.

“When Eddie the banished becomes Eddie the graduate,” you slipped your hands into the front pocket of his jeans.

Your faces were nearly touching. His thumb stroked the bottom of your cheek while his large puppy eyes poured into your features. His subtle smile curved until he was kissing you, taking his time to embrace you and keep you close to him. You could feel the rings on his hand that were wrapped around your head. He always wanted you as close as possible to him, even when he was charging your mouth.

The gap between your faces returned and he continued. “We’re going to a concert, baby. You pick. Anywhere in the country.” The hair on his head bounced from the way he smiled and shook his head adoringly at you.

“Anywhere, huh?”

“I’m gonna drive this piece of shit trailer out of here. Pick a coast, sweetheart.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, naming off countless bands to see during your travels and cities to explore. Baseball parks to visit in the summer. Using his fake ID for one more year to get beer and then drink it around a fire. Beaches to go skinny dipping in after it gets dark. Laying in the grass and passing each other a joint while staring up at the stars. Thinking about the next few months, just you and Eddie, wherever you wanted to travel. Just getting out of this suffocating town.

After the plunge back into the dark reality.

Climbing through the gate, everything was dark and cold again. You were stepping through the inverted trailer park, weapons and supplies nearby. Robin was a few steps in front of you before she turned around. It was time to split up. They had a much longer trek to get through.

Robin, Nancy, and Steve headed towards the Creel house. Dustin, Eddie, and yourself had to distract the bats. The two groups separated, waiting for the future signals. They were out of sight in a few minutes, and you stabilized a trailer about a mile away from the gate with boarded windows and doors.

And then Eddie was standing on top of the trailer. His guitar - which felt like an extension of himself - strapped to him. He started playing, his fingers moving so quickly but gently. If you didn’t have to look for evil bats who wanted to take a chomp out of you, the only thing you’d look at was his hands. The chords of the song were vibrating, echoing through the woods, his fingers shredding the strings.

The louder Metallica got, the more bats emerged. Hundreds of them swarmed to the sound. It only took a few moments for them to get close. Dustin was yelling at Eddie to finish while you decided to yank the kid down, trying to get him inside the trailer first. Eddie followed you in, slamming the door, before the sounds of creatures trying to break inside surrounded the trailer.

“You had to have a fucking encore, yeah?” you sighed, rolling your eyes at him.

Eddie fake gasped, hand over his heart. He gently set the guitar down. “I think you seemed to like it, princess, by the way you were glancing.”

“Can we really not do this right now,” Dustin interjected.

“I was only looking at you, and y’know, not the horizon of bats, at first, because like, what if bats appeared behind you? It was so loud, you were so loud, you wouldn’t have noticed. That would be bad.”

Dustin nodded. “Very bad.”

“Terrible, in fact.” you agreed.

Eddie was about to chime in, surly ripping into your fake logic, when the vent on the trailer’s roof started wobbling. Dustin’s cursing was the only thing louder than the bat’s screech as it squeezed through. This time when you saw Eddie’s hands, it was holding the lid shield that pierced the bat and held the vent closed.

“Shit, shit, SHIT,-”

“Vents, are there any more vents?” you scrambled.

Eddie was running to the back, where the vent over the bedroom should be. You were right behind him, watching as the bats were piling through it, at least a dozen of them in the room in seconds. Eddie slammed the connecting door, but it wasn’t as strong as the exterior door. The bats were able to make imprints and dents, with the number of them flying into the room increasing.

The only thing keeping the door from instantly breaking down was Eddie’s weight leaning against it. He turned around, eyes wide, darting from you to Dustin. His hand gripped the wooden handle of the spear. “Get him out of here. Now.”

“Let’s go let’s go LETSGO” Dustin was hollering as he ran to the other door. His hand on the doorknob, you turned and noticed Eddie wasn’t behind you.

“EDDIE?” Dustin yelled.

Knowing your face was pale and frozen, your jaw clenched when Eddie’s stare turned from fear to sorrow. “What are you doing?” you panicked.

“Get him to the gate. Both of you, get to the gate, I’m going to hold them off so you can get there and get through.”

“That’s not-”

‘You have to go, now,” Eddie pleaded. The door hinges were starting to fall apart, the dents almost completely breaking through. The screeching was louder, surely at least a hundred bats swarming in the bedroom.

“I’m not going to fucking leave you here, Eddie-”

One of the bats broke through, making a hole in the wooden door. Eddie knocked it down with his spear but another one came right through the hole. Soon there were multiple, Eddie used his spear and flashlight to fend them off. The door creaked and started to burst open.

“GO!” You heard his desperate scream before you and Dustin were out the door and sprinting back to the gate.

It only took a few minutes to get back the way you were moving. But it felt like an eternity. Thankfully there was no trouble or delays getting back, and the gate was waiting right above. The both of you were standing in Eddie’s trailer, still in shock, but bent over trying to catch your breath. It was uncannily quiet, but Dustin was staring out of the blinds on the window. You looked with him, but it was so dark out, that it was impossible to make out much of anything.

“He should be here by now.”

“We have to stay here, Dustin, okay?”

The gulp in your throat felt like fire. Dustin was right, it had been almost ten minutes since you stepped foot outside. Eddie’s trailer, the gate, wasn’t that far from the decoy trailer. It only took you, what, 3 minutes, to get back? The stillness from the outside was unsettling, not knowing if it was positive or negative.

The deep scream from outside shook the walls.

Your stomach dropped, and your body felt like it was about to freeze. You both knew that scream. High, piercing, shocking. You couldn’t make your body move or your mind operate, but Dustin was bolting out of the door, and that’s what shocked your system back to the present moment.

You grabbed him quickly, hand on his shoulder to yank him around. “Dustin.”

“You can’t tell me to go back, dammit,” he sounded like he was holding back a sob.

Sobbing yourself was something you wanted to do. “I know it’s not fair. But I’m asking you, Henderson, please.” You watched tears swelling up in his eyes as he was trying to contain them there. “It’s not that I don’t think you’re capable. You’re better, smarter, than most of us.”

“So let me go,” he tried to break from your grasp. “He’s my friend-”

“Dustin, he adores you, yeah? And it’s that reason he wouldn’t want you risking your life for him. I know he’d pick your safety over his own every time.”

“We can’t just leave him there.” Dustin’s backpack fell from his shoulder with a thud on the ground.

“Give me ten minutes. Wait in the trailer. If we’re not back by then, you can come to find him.”

His face was still dopping, but he sighed in acceptance. He knew this was an argument he wasn’t going to win and wasting time would only be worse. “Ten minutes.”

“Promise me, Dustin.”

“I promise. Just- dammit- hurry, okay? One second after and I’m coming!”

You left and started to run to Eddie. To the sounds of agony echoing in your body. Your feet were carrying you back to his voice, not letting yourself slow down. You were sprinting past the same empty trailers and trees. One more corner and you’d be back to him, you’d run into his arms, and then you’d smack him for being such a fool. You’d yell at him for being so slow but kiss him for being a stupid hero.

His body, motionless, was still on the cold ground.

Your knees collapsed at the same time your chest exploded. You crawled over to him, lifting his head and torso onto your own body. His face was covered in blood and spots of dirt. His jacket was torn and his shirt was shredded to bits. His chest - you saw it now - was covered in deep bites, tears of teeth marks, and blood pooling out of the wounds and onto the soaked ground.

“Eddie,” you croaked.

You saw his little smile emerge when he heard your voice. His eyes were able to flicker to you. “Is my angel here, at last?”

“Eddie, you fucking idiot,” your tears rolling down your face and into your shirt. “We’re gonna, I’m gonna get you out of here. You’re going to be okay.”

“Baby,” he groaned. “Are you okay? Hurt?”

“I’m fine, we’re fine, but-”

“I love you. I’ve loved you since the first day I saw you. I loved you all those months we were friends,” Eddie lifted his arm, straining what little motion he had left, and grabbed your hand so he could squeeze it this time. “I’ve loved you these past 2 years, I just need you to know that.”

“I know that baby, I know, and I love you,” you desperately clasped his hand. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Your body was shaking, his body feeling heavier and heavier by the second.

You were not going to let him make his final words here. Arms under his body, you tried to prop him up so you could try to lift him. He seemed more tired every second that passed. Less movement, slower breathing, the more you could feel your own shakes vibrating on his skin. Like his body was literally protesting the help you were despairing trying to give.

“What coast,” Eddie whispered. “What coast did you want to go to?”

“East coast,” you replied. “See all the big cities. Get lost and miss our stops on the subway. Go see Dio, or Iron Maiden, or I’ll drag you to see the Police, Talking Heads-”

“Promise me you’ll go there,” Eddie mumbled. “Get out of here. You have to leave, for me,” his hand was starting to slip out of yours but you grabbed it back.

You kissed him, the taste of his lips soothing your ache, even if it was temporary. The palms of your hands were wrapped around his face as the bitter tears ran through the creases of your face. You always felt like Eddie tasted like pinewood, the rough but sweet personification.

“You’re coming with me, Munson,” you spoke. Your hand was gripping the fabric of his shirt waiting for a reply that would never come. “Always.”

But as he motionlessly stared into the stars, part of you knew he heard you.

As you sat there gripping one of Eddie’s arms, while Dustin’s footsteps and hysterics gathered behind from behind, you knew that he understood you both.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x oc #stranger things #eddie stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x female reader

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spectralscathath · 3 years

Note

What happened to Ruby in your reference sheet by being sliced in half for your Scorruby AU?! The scar and everything!

Okay so Ruby has a bad time in the au. But I can explain. So, the whole being 'sliced in half' thing, that was more of an idea I had about how Ruby's semblance works in this AU.

So I'm putting the image you were talking about under the readmore at the bottom of the post because it's potentially gore although nothing visceral is visible but better safe than sorry, and I'm gonna stress something off the bat: Ruby's not actually hurt and this isn't actually a literal thing. (Yet. Probably. Maybe. We'll see.)

The idea for the discussed sketch was as a way to play around with posing, expression, and what Ruby's Scatter might look like/how it might work, more metaphorical then as something that actually happens (so far).

Scatter, in my AU, is a Transformative semblance, in that it physically alters Ruby by turning her into a swarm of swirling rose petals. My idea was that this semblance starts from the inside out, which is why she was able to be hit in the first place, because she was already disassembling herself into her petal form. So she's actually completely unharmed, she just happened to be up against someone who was fast enough to catch her mid-scatter, mostly for visual flair.

I'm not a fan of the current canon semblance, I think there's too much going on and they've forgotten good ideas for plot relevance. So lets look at some quotes as the show's gone:

Volume 1: Pyrrha says 'Ruby has her speed'

Volume 4: Qrow says 'some people burst into rose petals'

In the vol6 hiatus coming up on vol7 the comics called it 'an ice cream sundae of speed with a little cherry of teleportation on top.'

Volume 7: Harriet said "I've seen other speed semblances before. That's different. I think there's more going on than you think."

volume 8: Penny explains 'Ruby is capable of traveling at an extreme velocity from one point to another by breaking herself down to her molecular components, thus negating her mass and then reassembling them at the destination.'

Basically, Ruby's semblance has, over the course of show, had these points:

short range dash that generated rose petals

able to turn herself into a swirl of rose petals that retained mass and had greater mobility

generated a slipstream if she hit a certain speed (seen in the vol2 food fight and the petal tornado she made in the vol4 character short)

was able to pick other people up, although their weight still mattered (Penny in vol2)

was able to use it for mid-air combat in short bursts, but it was finite and didn't have long distance

could somewhat manipulate the rose petals, able to separate her main mass into smaller masses for evading obstacles

after vol6, it turned into 'a bit of teleportation', and then 'no more mass', allowing Ruby to carry limitless people and go just about anywhere as long as she needs

And personally, I'm not a huge fan of this. I think that they could have handled it better instead of contradicting themselves. They also effectively took out Ruby's three biggest weaknesses: that she has to worry about the weight of people she carries, that she's still solid (just split up over a large swarm), and that distances are a factor. And it makes it less interesting to me.

Honestly Ruby's semblance was just treated weird in general, having it be like her splitting apart into separate parts mid-scatter was special in vol7 when she was doing it back in vol4 felt off. I have no problems with her upgrading her distance on it, I thought that was interesting, but then the teleportation made it weird. We lost the slipstream move she used, which was a complete shame because it was a cool way for Ruby to turn her evasive semblance into offence. And 'mass no longer mattering' was pure 'we wrote ourselves into a corner here's a bullshit 'oh you could do this all along' power upgrade' (coughs at Penny being heavy in vol2 and Mercury kicking her in vol3). Also just the name. Petal Burst. I don't like it, should have kept it as Scatter.

So, ScorpRuby. Her semblance is Scatter. It is a transformative semblance where she breaks herself apart into a swirl of rose petals for a speed/mobility boost that can go in any direction, but is short range with limited distance (though she does learn to hold it for longer, making it about endurance training). She can carry people, but their weight does matter, and more people are harder to carry. It is not teleportation, and she can still be hit, or grabbed, or knocked out of her scatter if she's not careful, because mass still matters (which means she still creates a slipstream she can use). And her petals pick up the colours of people she picks up, because we lost that visual.

I think I got off topic, but the point stands, I'm keeping more defined limits on Ruby's semblance, because then it makes the story about finding ways around those limits.

And as for the scars... (warning, getting into some real criticism of the show here that I'll put under a read more if you're not interested in that)

I saw Nora get scars in vol8 that managed to avoid the face because god forbid girls that aren't villains have visible facial scarring. There is a lot of lookism in the show about big scars being Evil and I'm not here for it. Weiss's scar is small and becomes less visible every volume, Blake's scar is also small and easily hidden, Winter could have had a scar on her nose but they were cowards and removed it, and Nora has lots of scars now but they barely touch her face, even though there would have been nothing wrong with that (and they're also quite neat and not visually unappealing and can be mostly hidden under her outfit).

Meanwhile the villains with scars (Ironwood, Tyrian, Adam, Cinder), have big and jagged scars that are very prevalent (when Ironwood's top is off, at least) and in the case of Adam and Cinder take up a lot of their face. It's like a visual shorthand, Adam and Cinder's scars are even given Big Reveals to shock the audience with how 'ugly' and 'deformed' their scars are (a missing eye and an SDC brand).

I think that scars, whether it's having them, or the visibility, placement and size of them, shouldn't be a signifier of if a character is a Good Guy, or not. So I gave Ruby some, because she is the main character of this AU, she is the hero, and she's allowed to have large scars that aren't easily looked over, and the fight where she gets them is both plot-relevant, and for character development. And I think that she still looks cute as hell with them, personally.

Also, yes, Ruby does go through the absolute wringer in this AU, but hey, it's for character development. I swear. (also image here)

#rwby #ruby rose #scorruby au #rwby au #rwde #I will not be silent about lookism in rwby nor about how dumb ruby's new semblance is #nonnie luv I am so sorry this got majorly offtopic but I hope I was able to answer your question anyway #also unsure whether to tag as gore or not because there's nothing visible so I'm not sure if it counts but just in case #tw gore #think Alice from the xbox games madness returns where she turns into butterflies for shortrange dashes or a vampire going bat swarm #asks

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famouskittychild · 3 years

Text

Star Wars Fun in the Sun

vol 2 - At the pool

This is my gift (vol2) for @milfsyndullas in the Fun in the Sun gift exchange (hosted at @starwarsfandomfests). Some poolside fun during a break away from the war with the trio of Obi-wan, Anakin and Ahsoka.

AO3

The small skiff that had carried them down to the planet was a welcome sight. It was the first civilian craft they had been in for a while, and the unusual colours, shapes and interior kept them occupied during the descent.

“What a nice little ship this is” expressed Ahsoka what all three of them were thinking. Obi-wan answered with his usual serenity.

“Yes, it was acquired for the Grand Army not long after the beginning of the war. The planet we are heading to is on a supply line, so many of their infrastructure is now helping the war effort.”

Anakin’s mood darkened a bit though if anyone would’ve asked why, he couldn’t have answered. Ahsoka did find the problem for him.

“So… they had to give up their livelihood to the Republic…”

“... and the Republic uses it so they can go back to live their lives undisturbed by war as soon as possible.” Obi-wan nodded.

The skiff banked and they had a great view at the land under them. Green forests, white dwellings and small blue lakes were the dominant features under the patchy cover of rainclouds. The craft straightened out, bringing the landscape slowly out of view. The pilot’s voice came through the on-board comm system.

“We will be landing in five minutes. Please fasten your seatbelts and prepare for landing.”

The facility that was chosen as housing for the visiting officers was a sprawling complex of low, simple buildings nestled in a valley between gently rising hills. The person who took them over from the clerk at the front desk told them about the place after Obi-wan asked about it. Lilac Crescent was a holiday resort, with the attractions of forest walks, multiple lakes and wildlife reserves nearby.

“Soon after the war started, the ‘Crescent was acquired for the war effort. The tourism dried up anyways, what with all the blockades and restrictions. We usually host training sessions here, or provide housing for all kind of personnel, from troopers to clerks to maintenance workers. Most recently we had a conference for medical personnel. This way please.”

They reached a pair of glass doors on the corridor. It opened onto a spacious square that had a large enough space in the middle for every resident to gather there. Outside of the open area, the lawn was dotted with benches, tidy bushes and picnic tables. Small pathways led to the white walled cabins strewn around the premises, trees giving shade to them here and there.

Their building was off from the main one somewhat. Behind the cabins there were clusters of larger houses with two stories.

“Those have apartments, as we were told we can expect some of your colleagues to join you later. We had prepared an apartment with three bedrooms for you; if there is any request or you would like a different one, please let us know and we can make the necessary adjustments.”

“Thank you” Obi-wan answered for all three of them. They knew they wont be asking for anything.

There were differently coloured doors for each of the separate apartments on the outside of the building, but their guide led them to a widest, double door in the middle. It opened into an alcove cutting straight through the building, walls lined with ferns and other shadow tolerant plants. As they rounded the corner and stepped into the inner courtyard, they all drew to a stop. Their guide grinned at them, no doubt expecting their reaction from experience with other visitors. Ahsoka’s jaw dropped, Anakin broke into a grin, and even Obi-wan’s smile grew wider.

“A swimming pool?” Ahsoka breathed.

“With parasols!” Anakin pointed out, which made Ahsoka snap around to look at him. She didn’t expected him to single those out when there was a small slide at one corner.

“And a slide!” she pointed it out to him.

“This is very nice.” Obi-wan turned to their guide. “Thank you.”

Their guide smiled.

“You are very welcome. Your unit will be just over there” they pointed towards the corner on their right, at one of the transparent wide doors. “Communal rooms on the ground floor, bedrooms and fresher upstairs. The shed over there contains pool equipment. There’s instructions for everything that needs instructions, and the rest is safe to use as is.”

They gave the keycards to Anakin who stood closest.

“The main building has meals all through the day, and we have a delivery service too, accessible from your datapads, both for groceries and meals. Just use the comm in the lounge if you need anything, any time.”

They thanked them for their help, smiling and looking forward to spending a few days there, then the employee left and they went to settle into their rooms. The glass double doors opened to the lounge, with low sofas in cheerful colours. Other transparent sliding doors separated the kitchen and dining areas, with windows set high on the walls that looked outside, for privacy. They opened all of them and enjoyed the breeze crossing the house.

Ahsoka run upstairs then yelled down telling them she had found her room.

“Its the one with the blue curtains!”

Anakin was inspecting the taps and Obi-wan was reading the safety guide posted on the hallway wall. Ahsoka grabbed their bags and carried them upstairs, leaving them in the middle of the foyer on the landing, thinking the other two can choose their rooms later. They were still inspecting the place when she got back downstairs. Anakin was now looking at the kettle, flipping the switch on and off on it. It was an old, almost entirely mechanical model, nothing like the automated appliances they were used to. She plopped down onto a sofa and relaxed.

“Don’t get too comfortable, we will have to leave for the briefing soon.” Obi-wan told her, as she expected he would, and she sighed. They might have come here for training and other official stuff, not even knowing for exactly how many days, but at least their surrounding were nice. She looked out at the pool. Very nice.

If only the weather would cooperate.

After returning at the end of their official schedule later that day, Ahsoka went to the top floor straight away, leaving the other two downstairs. There was a large closet on the corridor, right by the stairs, that she wanted to investigate. She wondered what would be stored there; not bedlinen or bathing towels, as those were supplied with each room in their own closets. She opened the large doors and her jaw dropped. The contents of the spacious storage were so colourful, it reminded her of a toyshop.

“What are these? Circus tent accessories?” She mused, than looked closer. The neat piles were sorted by type it seemed. There were some that looked like towels, in several sizes. Others seemed to have tailoring and hems - cloaks, probably; and then there were thin shawl-looking pieces, and simple carrier bags in several sizes, and an assortment of hats. She pulled out one of the clothes-looking things: it was a loosely shaped yellow and blue striped dress. It was probably meant to fit many sizes and shapes with its wide sleeves, overlapping panels and ties at the waist and hems.

The corners of her mouth turned upwards. This closet was here probably for the same reason the shed down by the pool was: to be used by guest who didn’t bring their own things, or just needed a spare of something. She could choose for herself, yes. But she could also choose for all three of them.

Just to spare the bother for the others.

Fifteen minutes later, she hopped down the stairs, with a pile for the two jedis on her arm.

Anakin looked up at the sound of her barrelling down the stairs and stopped in his tracks as she came into view.

“Where did you got those?”

Ahsoka stopped in the middle of the room and looked down at herself as if just noticing that something is out of the ordinary.

“Oh. These. I found them in the closet upstairs. I’ve got some for you, master, and for Master Kenobi.” She lifted her arm with the suspicious pile. Anakin raised an eyebrow at her.

“Thank you for your effort”, he said cautiously. If her current look and the cascade of colours and patterns he could see where any indication, they weren't in for anything good.

Over her clothes she was wearing a cheerful lilac wrap-dress with a pattern of small blue flowers. She had a large towel thrown over her shoulder in a riot of greens, yellows and purples. The most unusual was the wide brimmed yellow hat she had over her montrals, the top of them sticking out of it.

She must’ve noticed his gaze as she glanced up at her headwear.

“I even found hats for non-round-heads. This will be good against the sun, isn’t it?” She addressed the question for both of them, as Obi-wan had moved closer too.

“What had you chosen for us?” he asked her in his usual light tone. Anakin braced himself, and his padawan’s exited grin just further spurred his suspicions.

He was right. She got them a similarly riotous assortment of shirts, dressing gowns, towels and even hats. Obi-wan seemed happy with her choices, but Anakin felt a bit uncomfortable.

“These are so… colourful.” He tried to put it into words. He wasn’t sure it was right for them, or for him, to wear things like these.

Ahsoka shrugged with a mischievous grin.

“That was my intent, master. Usually we have plain clothes, but we are on holiday. I thought we might enjoy our clothes for once, not just use them.”

Anakin looked at her, and realized he had to make a choice. She was right, there was nothing wrong with letting their hair down a bit. On the other hand, he also realized that his padawan had probably chosen the most outrageously coloured and patterned and maybe even tailored things she could find.

Out of habit, he glanced over to his former master. Obi-wan looked back from the corner of his eye, lips in a half smirk, and Anakin knew he had came to the same conclusion. But Anakin was the teacher here; it had to be his choice how to handle this.

“Make sure to take some holo recordings whilst we are wearing these, as you already went to the trouble of selecting the most outrages ones for us.”

Ahsoka opened her mouth to dispute some of what he said, then wisely changed her mind.

The weather, as it often happens, did not cooperate. It rained through the next day, but at least they were busy with their schedule. They were also told to have a rest for another four days. Their troopers were back on Kamino, getting their usual update courses and evaluations. They could expect the officers showing up sometime the last day or two, depending on other factors. Until then, they were free to relax.

They talked about maybe going back to Coruscant, but Obi-wan cut that idea short.

“We haven’t had any time away either from the battlefields or the operation planning on Coruscant. Rest is important, too. Let’s recharge in the next few days.”

“Then when the boys get here we can dive straight back into action.” Anakin added, already on board. Ahsoka looked between the two of them, then shot a pointed look towards the courtyard.

“Swimming pool?” she asked. So far they had no time to try it out.

“Not in this weather” Anakin looked out through the doors. Over the low roofs of the building, the clouds were grey. It was raining intermittently.

“Not exactly pool weather,” Obi-wan was still cheerful despite it, “but good for a barbecue.”

The other two met his enthusiasm with doubt.

“Master Kenobi, it’s raining.” Ahsoka stated, just in case he missed the obvious. She could find no other explanation.

“Thank the Force for whoever had invented the umbrella, than.” He smiled at them once more before getting up from the sofa and getting ready to head out.

Off to the side of the lounge doors in front of every apartment was a small enclosed area with tiled floor, surrounded with low walls and small shrubs. There was enough room for a table and four chairs on one side and a pair of sunbeds opposite. It also had a built in grill with a cover over it at about shoulder height but no roof for whoever was standing in front of it.

Ahsoka and Anakin decided to stick to the lounge, reading their datapads and watching holos. They occasionally looked outside at Obi-wan, grilling away in his purple shirt decorated with palm leaves. He was using one hand to hold whatever utensil he needed and the other to hold the colourful umbrella. He even twirled it once in a while.

They thought him a bit silly, standing outside in the gloomy weather and messing with the smoky grill when they had a very well equipped and rain-free kitchen. Until he came back indoors with a pile of grilled meats and vegetables.

“Get those salads we ordered earlier, please. Time for dinner.”

Ahsoka retrieved the stack of dishes they had ordered from the Crescent’s own kitchen. Obi-wan piled up a plate for her with meats, and shared out the veggies between Anakin and himself, then they all had their pick from the salads. Anakin pestered Ahsoka light heartedly about her not eating her veggies, and she showed her carnivore canines to him as answer. But they both thanked Obi-wan for making the majority of the food, and for making it delicious.

“Lets hope the weather turns soon” he answered before tucking in.

The colourful wooden building the opposite of their apartment on the other side of the pool, turned out to be a shed housing treasures, at least according to Ahsoka. When they had woken up to clear skies and sunshine the that morning, it was all she could do to wolf down her breakfast porridge before she raced outside.

On their third day, it finally did, and they broke out the pool equipment.

Anakin followed her.

“I think I should supervise. I don’t want the pool to end up with rainbow bubbles.” He got up, and Obi-wan stopped with the spoon halfway to his mouth. That was something that didn’t occur to him before. Than he reminded himself that they were on officially mandated holiday, and the employees of the Crescent assured them that everything is safe that was stored around the pool for guests to use. He hoped safe didn’t mean skin coloured to purple and teal patches that takes weeks of three rounds of daily sonic use to fade away.

The sun was still low but started to rise above the rooftops surrounding the courtyard. It made him remember another thing he had learned the hard way. He gathered the dishes but left the washing up for later, then he followed his former padawan and their current padawan outside.

The sun had already dried up any remnants of puddles on the tiled courtyard. He did spot some dew on the patches of lawns between the poolside and the individual terraces but only where there was till shadow. He knew the last reminders of the past few rainy days will vanish before noon and the meteorology service promised sunshine with a bit of breeze for the coming days. Perfect poolside weather.

He caught up with the younger ones and peaked over their shoulders. They were combing through the contents of the pool shed, at the moment inspecting the second shelf from the left. It had colourful boxes on the top shelves and some larger containers at the bottom.

“What are those?” He asked, and the other two jumped. “Sorry.”

Anakin waved him to not worry about it, and shoved him one of the boxes.

“Inflatables. There’s an airpump over there,” he pointed at a small machine in the corner, “and we are trying to choose.”

“I want the thranta. They are adorable.” Ahsoka said, showing the box already in her hand. Anakin raised an eyebrow.

“Those are aiwhas, obviously. The shape of the head…”

Ahsoka leaned forward, ready to argue with him. Obi-wan threw his palms up, stopping them.

“Argue later, please. For now, I want to remind you two to a very important thing.”

They both turned to him and showered him with guesses.

”Not to drown in the pool?” ”Not to pee in the pool?””Anakin! Where did you get that idea?!””The boys, obviously…”No eating in the pool!””No datapads, they aren’t actually waterproof.””Wear haircaps!””Not me!””Wear goggles?“

“Stop, please.” Obi-wan sighed, and the other two calmed down a bit. “I meant sunscreen. Plenty of sunscreen.” He paused, then looked at each of them in turn. “Learned that the hard way.”

“I smell a good story” grinned Ahsoka.

“I smell a funny story” Anakin added. Obi-wan rolled his eyes.

“If you want to know, yes, at one time I gut a sunburn so bad after a mere afternoon outside that I needed medical care. My face was red for two weeks and I needed to slather enough cooling lotion on myself that it would’ve covered a grown thranta. Or an aiwha.”

The other two tried not to laugh. Obi-wan was so pale, it was hard to imagine him all red, but they managed it of course. And it was hilarious. Only their respect for him stopped them to laugh at him, at least whilst he was standing in front of them.

“I haven’t seen any in the house, I guess people bring their own with them when they come here. I’ll put on a delivery request for them. Until that arrives, you two stay out of direct sunlight.” Again he looked at each of them in turn. It must have been really important to him if he was putting so much emphasis on it. “You don’t want to end up all red like I did back then.”

“Well that would be terrible” Ahsoka deadpanned, looking at her arms. Obi-wan smiled.

“I apologize. I should have worded that differently.”

“Like ‘burned like a crispy stuffed tomato’ for example?” Anakin volunteered. Obi-wan shot him a look but there was humour behind it. He left them to continue their exploration and went back to the lounge to put the order in on his datapad.

The shed was a treasure throw. Neither of them had ever been to a place like this. They did swim at the temple’s pool but that was for learning and training. They never had the opportunity yet to just have fun with some water. It was extra nice that it wasn’t a beach - no sand. Anakin could never get used to having sand around water. Sand was desert, aridity, and water was everything the desert wasn’t. He could also never wrap his mind around the fact that the larger the body of water the more sand it’s shores tended to have.

Or that people went there willingly not just to swim but to play in the sand. For him, that substance was hard, gritty life, and when having fun, he didn’t wanted to be reminded of that.

Ahsoka had no such qualms, although she knew about her master’s aversion and she sympathised with him.

By the time Obi-wan had arrived with the sunscreen sometime later, the other two had a competition going on. The airpump stood unused by their side and they were trying to inflate their respective pool floats using only their own lung capacities.

“That’s futile but a valiant effort” Obi-wan commented, and the other two threw him the annoyed look of the young. “I also have the sunscreen here, if you two need a break.”

They didn’t, of course, and they continued their strenuous competition. Watching the other two getting more and more winded whilst their floats where still barely more than colourful limp piles at their feet, Obi-wan sat down at one of the sunbeds around the pool with his yellow-green-red spotted towel and started to put lotion on his skin methodically.

“Do you need help, master?” Anakin asked some time later. Obi-wan looked up to see that they had stopped - and barely made progress - and were both looking at him. He shook his head, a bit confused about the question.

“No, I can manage, thank you Anakin.”

The other two exchanged looks than turned back to him. Than he realized. He was finished with the front of his torso and his shoulders; next would be his back. Which they thought would be a problem for poor old Obi-wan, obviously.

“Don’t worry I can reach my own back.” He turned around so they could see, and hooked his hands together behind his back, one arm over his shoulder the other reaching up from below. “See?”

He turned around and the other two had the grace to look a bit embarrassed. He didn’t blame them. He might’ve had similar thoughts about others at their age.

“Now how are those floats going?” he asked while his hands were working on his back.

“Abysmal.” “Hopeless.” “Futile.” “They are faulty.” “Yes, I bet they have holes on them.”

Obi-wan shot a look at them that made them stop.

“Well, I guess, we should admit defeat…”Anakin conceded, “and just use the machine.”

“Yes, I think that’s a good idea, master” agreed Ahsoka too.

They went over to the machine and in a few minutes they had two colourful, vaguely air-whale shaped mattresses. Ahsoka’s one was teal and turquoise and gray, while Anakin had a pink-blue-yellow one for himself.

“Would you like one too, master?” They already started to walk towards the shed.

“No thank you Anakin, I’ll chose one later after I finished.”

“It’s not a problem” and they already vanished. Obi-wan sighed, wondering what will he get. Between his shirts that Ahsoka cheerfully picked out for him every morning - he had a pink one on with tiny porgs all over it today- and his towels - those he choose himself, but the selection for both ranged from “cheerfully bright” through “interesting pattern” to “what where they on when they designed this”- he probably wore more colour in this past few days than usually did in a standard year, disguises included. He decided to wait to see what they chose for him, than he’d just have make his own choice if he doesn't like their selection.

He didn’t liked it. It was some large bird, green and purple, and unlike theirs, wasn’t flat but shaped like a very awkward chair. So he went and rummaged around, settling on a large torus shaped something in all the colours of the rainbow. He was already covered in colours, so he thought why not go all out.

They air-whales were already floating on the water. Anakin and Ahsoka were sitting at the edge of the pool near them, hanging their legs into the water, passing the sunscreen bottle back and forth between them. After inflating his own device, Obi-wan saw that they were taking the task of screening up seriously. He got hold of the doughnut firmly, took a two careful steps to speed up than jumped onto the water. As he landed, he splashed up a good deal of water - straight at the two younger ones.

“Master!” he heard the two indignant voices. He turned to look at them innocently.

“Yes my dears?”

They had water dripping all over them. He knew they’ll get back at him later. He padded away, looking for the small portable music device he remembered seeing somewhere beside the pool. Might as well have some music too.

Their attack was coordinated and well executed. Anakin floated in front of him, blocking his view and chatting with him. Under that cover, Ahsoka managed to round him unnoticed, then at a sign they both grabbed his doughnut and upturned it, tossing him into the water.

“Vengeance!” the yelled, laughing, as Obi-wan resurfaced spluttering, shaking his hair out of his eyers. Their alliance broke up almost immediately as their floats bumped into each other and they started to jostle.

“Hey, mind the thranta!” Ahsoka warned.

“It’s an aiwha.” Anakin pushed her, and her mattress wobbled heavily, threatening to throw her off.

“Yours maybe. This one isn't.”

They argued back and forth about the properties of the different air-whale species until they managed to knock each other off their respective float. All three in the water, the fight turned to everyone for themselves. Ahsoka was the shortest but also the most agile, and she swam around the other two like a fish. Anakin and Obi-wan was evenly matched, and they managed to push each other under the water and being pushed down by the other about equal frequency. Ahsoka won the battle when she remembered that she saw some long, straight foam rolls in the shed and whilst the other two was occupying themselves she sneaked out to get them Than she slapped them both on top of their heads, making them admitting defeat.

When they got too tired - and hungry - they climbed out of the water and wrapped up in their oversized towels. Ahsoka’s was so large it covered her like a tent, but she loved the one she had and kept in on: it had tookas all over it. Than they fired up the barbecue again. This time Obi-wan had help, mostly because the other two were really hungry. After eating, he pulled out a second box of deliveries, just when they were getting ready to get back into the water.

“What are those?”

The largish box was full with bottles and jars, their contents a rainbow of colours.

“This, dear Ahsoka,” Obi-wan checked his datapad, “ well, let me read out the official product designation. This is a ‘The starter box every pool party needs if you want to avoid your guests getting too rowdy, touchy or messing up your place in one way or another - Everything You Need to Make Your Own Mocktails, Starter pack for twelve guests’. This was the smallest package, the others were for 24, 30, 50 or even more guests.”

“That’s how they called their product?” Anakin dug into the box, pulling out a jar with small golden fruits in it. It harmonised with the shirt he had on, with songbirds. “And they are still in business…”

“Who has twelve guest?” was Ahsoka’s observation.

“Here are some recipes” Obi-wan handed a small puck to her. She pushed a button on the cheap plastic gadget and a cheery hologram of an assortment of colourful drinks in fancy glasses showed up. She scrolled to the next picture, and there was indeed a recipe for the simplest of drinks under it.

“Syrup, water, bubbles - where do we get bubbles?” she mused.

“I think there’s a gadget for that. All is supposed to be in the box.” Obi-wan shrugged.

They all choose from the supplied list than set to measure and shake and stir. The first round was a success.

“Let’s try some of the more complicated ones” Anakin suggested only halfway into his drink. Ahsoka scrolled through the recipes and they found one that they both liked.

“How about this one. ‘Chandrilla Sunrise’. Phew, long list, but doesn’t seem too complicated.”

Their first try failed, predictably.

“Focus, padawan. I think we’ll have to follow the instructions by the letter.” Anakin furrowed his brows.

“Oh dear, that’s terrible” commented Obi-wan, than he turned back to his own holopad quickly. “I’ll will just look up some more tricks and recipes while you two… brew.”

They messed up something again. The colours didn’t stay separate bands but blended together into a muddy mix. Obi-wan found the root of their problem.

“The recipe doesn’t mention it, but here it says you have to keep each syrup chilled before pouring them into the glass, than wait a bit for it to warm up to air temperature before adding the next one.” The other two made a ‘hmm, gotcha’ noise simultaneously. “Other advise is to chill the glass beforehand.”

“Let’s try those ideas.” Anakin’s enthusiasm renewed, they got back to work on their third glass. It was a success, finally. Then they had to repeat the process two more times so each of them had a glass for themselves. Decorating them with straws, paper shapes that went over the edge and extra candied fruits.

Ahsoka exchanged her towel to a blue dress with puffy pink clouds printed on it, then turned the volume up on the music player before picking up her glass again. The sun was shining, their bellies were full and no one was shooting at them. It was a great day.

The sun was slowly getting lower over the rooftops. Music was playing at an acceptable volume now after Ahsoka started to go a bit overboard before and they had to shout to hear each other. Some of the sunbeds were covered with towels and wraps and hats as they tossed them aside when not needed. They took turns on the slide, having a competition about who could make the biggest splash when crashing into the water. Anakin seemed to be in the lead.

“It’s not fair, you are just taller, that’s your advantage!” Ahsoka complained as they stood at the edge of the pool. Obi-wan agreed with her.

“Yes, he doesn’t use any technique aside of stretching out all limbs.”

Anakin grinned at them.

“You two are just sore losers.” Then he suddenly turned and with a single step, reached the edge of the pool and jumped. The other two barely had enough time to turn away before he smashed into the pool, splashing plenty of water at them.

After declaring Anakin the splasher champion, him and Ahsoka got back on their floats for another round of foam-noodle duel and general splashing about. Obi-wan had stuck to his datapad, still reading about drink-making tricks and flavour harmonization and fruit types. He floated around on his doughnut as far as possible from the ruckus the other two were making, sipping from his glass with an umbrella in it and a fruit rind over its edge. By the end of the day, he had made almost a dozen different drinks, and they never had to float around long without one in hand, or put aside at the edge of the pool.

“Don’t forget to visit the fresher if you need to, master” Ahsoka reminded Anakin, who shot her a look of mock offence.

“Now why would you say that?” He took a sip of his drink, than furrowed his brow. “Actually that's not that bad of an idea.”

It took him a while to paddle to the edge of the pool using only one hand.

“You can do it, master!” “Use your legs!” “Don’t drop the glass, I spent half hour on that one!” was just a few of the advice he had received.

He mock- growled back at them then laughed himself as he finally climbed up onto the tiles.

“I'm so proud of you” Obi-wan told him, and raised his glass, Ahsoka’s giggling behind him.

They stayed out after the sun had already set, than gathered up their their stuff and went to sleep tired but happy.

Just like the day before, Anakin and Ahsoka spent most of the day in the pool. They got very good at jumping in from the edge of the pool without their feet slipping on the wet tiles. When they got tired of that, they flopped onto their respective air-whales and padded about, occasionally bumping into each other and having a wrestling match. Obi-wan had joined them before, after the sun dipped a bit lower after the glare of the middle of the day. He even jumped in himself a few times, though he enjoyed the slide more. He was now making a late afternoon meal; the leftovers were all gone and he was happy to muck about the barbecue yet again.

He heard some noises from outside. It was quiet aside of the splashing coming from the pool and the noises made by the small portable music player. Maybe they were getting some neighbours before the officers arrived. They were expecting them the next day, no later than noon. Then the noises grew louder and he could tell that they were definitely made by sentients, and were getting closer. He stuck his head out around the barbecue’s wall and peaked towards the courtyard entrance, just in time to see the approaching group of clone officers step out into the sunshine. They burst into hollering upon seeing them, and when Ahsoka and Anakin noticed them they greeted them from the water with equal enthusiasm.

Obi-wan sighed. How lucky, he thought, that he spent the last afternoon studying how to make mocktails. He checked that everything that was on the grill could be left there for a little while, than he wiped his hands on his ‘Best chef in the sector’ apron and got his datapad.

As the officers gathered around the pool, chatting with Anakin and Ahsoka and no doubt planning to get in the water as soon as possible, he opened the delivery service on his datapad. He run through the items in his head that they’ll need to feed everyone. And the drink supplies too.

Maybe he can get some of them to help out with the food and drink preparations - if he can drag them from the pool first.

#sw fun in the sun #swfuninthesun #summer gift exchange #disaster trio #obi-wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #poolside #my writing

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mrs-nih · 7 years

Text

The Hand of Ganesha

if your reading this, this is just something that had been on my mind for a while and some one dared me to writ it down. would love to know your thoughts, please forgive the grammar I was in a rush to write it all down.

The glass display case stood under a beam of moonlight in the day it probably looked more manifesting, but right now it was more on the treacherous side. Sitting behind a box of thick glass was crudely put together by long flat stakes that were stained by age, barley enough room to writ anything on them but small characters went down each stake. Tattered cloth wrapped around each skinny stake, and then bound on its spine by a waxy substance. A small brass plate was found in the corner of the front of the case with a description ‘book of rituals from the Xia dynasty’. “its not rituals book” Lunie said laying her head on my shoulder “a lot of people thought it was, even back then, blame it on bad translation, and the inebriation on the authors part. You are looking at the mortis aegrotationum integer vitae tellus. Also know as deaths cookbook…vol2” I looked at her as if she was joking, she had to be, why would such a thing excites “deaths cookbook” Glancing up at me flashing a smile she nodded, and put two fingers up “vol2” “why would death have a cookbook” “apparently, long before the Xia dynasty, there was a tribe of shaman, or Wu, or Xian as they might have called them. Powerful bunch, that served even powerful gods that are long forgotten, one of these gods was over death and sacrifice. And back then animal along with human sacrifices where very popular. These shaman believed that their god of death would collect their sacraments to the gods and being the youngest death would prepare the sacrifices in fine gourmet meals that suited the gods, and serve his older brethren with jewel incrusted plates. He would work all day gathering souls, taking up sacrifices, and On top of that his no one left him any food he would starve every night and day as the others grew stronger from his cooking. Now the story goes that this representation of death had gotten tired and being the footstool of his family and went insane from hunger, resulting in him killing all of his kin turning them in his own buffet, gaining their powers and strength. He felt bad that the tribe had no one to look after them, so he wrote a cookbook with all his recipes that would please any god, and any royal family for that mater. with the book and needing a new purpose they ventured off in the world cooking impressing kings and queens through out the ages, both mortal and immortal. As for the death god, he was soon forgotten, some stories saying he died others saying he still wonders the earth making meals for random folks.” Getting off my shoulder she stepped closer to the case serving it for its security. Shifting the bags I had in my hands from out other ventures, we stuffed stolen high end bags of stolen high end artifacts and jewelry. We wanted some paintings but then we thought it would be too much to carry them under out arms “so if this is the second book what happened to the first one, and why is it the book in a museum instead at some immortal mansion” “vo1 disappeared when the last of his tribe died out” lifting the wrench she took from our previous trespassing over her head “and although the meals were heavenly, you do go insane after a few meals resulting in acts of cannibalism. Anything meant for a god ends in treble result for none gods.” She swung down breaking the glass and triggering the alarm. She grabbed the book shaking of the execs glass and the grabbed my arm. The world stopped sifting we were standing in my forge, Lunie was admiring the book “but vol2 is just as if to more valuable then the first” Placing ur bounty on the workbench I started doing a metal inventory “so what is it made out of” “the cannibal victim’s bones” I looked at her in disgust “oh don’t judge them, this was in a time when it was unique to use victim body parts for historic recordings, and one to talk you eat hearts” She got me there, but I don't make weapons out of them…I have o take that back. there was this one time but it was a long time ago and I still am sickened by it. although it did make a pretty cool weapon, and I got a good sum of money from it, but I'm sure telling her would just help her with her case. Looking at the our trove some of the things didn’t quit make sense, a wooden malt from a museum exhibited ‘tools across the ages’ in France, a monocle that was among an array of Knick-knacks in a china cabinet from Arabia, and the cook book from china which she says is worth a lot but still looks like a weird old book no one is going to want. I still don’t know why she stole the other two things, she had no story for the either, it was like she just wants to take old junk for random places. Everything else was worth so much more, and you didn’t have to know some ancient story to know it worth. Diamonds, jewels, gold the things people really care about. “my my” jerking around instinctively grabbing the closest weapon to fight, I saw her standing by my anvil her lethal nails taping on the metal. Those deadly blue eyes peering at the both of us “don’t you two look chummy” she spat. “Worden” giving her a smile that felt queasy “you seem upset” which gave me reason to keep my weapon in hand which turned out to be my hammer, no magic in it but just as deadly in my hands. “if I am I think I have a good reason to be” her nails raked the smooth metal as she strutted towards me “if I'm not mistaken Blacksmith” she was defiantly pissed but what for I don’t know, maybe she was just impatient “we had a contract, and I gave you half the money upfront, and yet when I come to check on my investment. Where do I find you, not working but traveling the globe with my employee, which I will be having a discussion with later.” She glanced at Lunie that sent shiver up my spine, looking at Lunie. My fearless blue haired demon was frozen I fear. For a time that lasted longer then it should have, I glared back at the Worden, my mind didn’t see her as someone I needed to fear, but some one that was a threat to my happiness. I thought of a thousand things to end her life or at least make it worst then the stat she’s in now. It would have been a million but I was interrupted by her yelling “Blacksmith” her dark lips almost pulled back in a snarled “she glanced between Lunie and I “don’t let feeling be the reason for your demise, take it for me there is multiple ways to die.” She turned walking towards some of the weapons that hung on the wall, Lunie snaked over to my side. Her fingers trembled as they slid down my wrist to the hammer handle, I didn’t look at her not wanting to take my eyes of Worden. But I tightened my grip wondering why she would take my protection from me “she wont hurt you” she whispered “your deal isn’t don’t with her yet” “What about you” “My deal isn’t done either” tearing my eye way I looked at her, fear wasn't even close to describing what I saw in her. That spark, that insanity that I love was dossed out. slowly I, reluctantly I loosened my grip letting the hammer fall in her hands. “your talent is incomparable” the warden said running her fingers over the various creations “and what is this feeling, it like there calling out, like a newborn wanting to be held” “they have no master to wield them, so they cry out to any one hoping to claim them” She got to section of the wall that was of just fun projects that haven't even been test yet, stuff I couldn’t part with because they held too many memories. Coming on the a revolver I made one summer that took all my time to make but it was fun getting the gears and small parts to work together “they inspire such beautifully thoughts of homicidal tendency” Picking up the gun she open the cylinder “where are the bullets” “it doesn't need them” I said hoping that she doesn't figure out how it works. “what have you names this one” she examined it as if trying to figure it out with out my help. “the hand of Ganesha” She looked up with wide eyes ‘the remover of obstacles” she flicked the gun closing the cylinder, a faint smile came to her face, with out even hesitating she closed her eyes holding gun close to her face one hand on the trigger the other parallel to the barrel pointing up in a prayer pose opening her eyes she looked at us. Making sure I covered Lunie, I hoped I could stop harm getting to her but with this gun there was no stopping its aim. Still in her prayer pose “I don’t like playing games, Blacksmith. And I was hoping that I wouldn’t come to this, but I see I have no choice” she lowered the gun aiming straight to me her eyes colder then before, her breathing was steady and her demeanor was calm, as if we were just target practice. Is this it is this the way I go, ended by the things I loved to make, clamed by something I gave life to. She puled the hammer down and with one slow breath she squeezed the trigger. The shout thunder through the space, the sound was so powerful the windows shook and my ear drums rung. A I felt myself fletch but I couldn’t keep my eyes away form her frozen blue ones, ivory smoke came form the gun bellowing out the muzzle and danced around her. as she pulled the hammer again and squeezed the trigger, the grip changed colors of the grip was morphing from black to a swirl of pearl and plum. Greenish smoke came form the shoot that was bigger and flashed brighter then the one before, almost shattered the windows and rumbled the room, the colors settled in to a marbled handle claiming it master never to betray her. I felt a hot tear fall down my face my face as the smoked cleared, waiting on some kind of paint to hit me or the feeling of something gushing from me. But nothing came. Turing I examined Lunie there was no wounds on her, besides same fear from before she was ok “I want my weapon by tonight, or next shoot will kill them all.” I stayed facing Lunie as I heard the warden leave. Gun powder lingered aggravating my nostrils, the ringing in my ears seemed to be getting louder, and the trembling in my fingers was unbearable. Nether Lunie or I was hurt but the shoot were fired and her warning was very clear. “what was that” she was trembling worse than me and tears where starting to force there way out of her. “the hand of Ganesha…”pulling out my phone I focused to still my trebling enough to press the buttons “pray to the gun to remove whatever obstacles stand in your way, the bigger the obstacle the bigger the explosion” I called mom first it went to voice mail, then i dialed foolish same result. “mom nor foolish are answering” not a moment later Lunie gabbed my hand and we transported in the middle of down town surrounded by shops and restaurants we just appeared amongst crowd of people walking around. I felt eyes on me and conversations involving us. Franticly I surveyed the area trying to find one of them, I wasn’t sure who she sent us to first getting my attention Lunie pointed across the street at mom in the arms of the judge. Form the way they were looking at each other nothing in the world was bothering them. I didn’t have to say anything, I felt the world enclose around me and opened in a room with knock out roses wall paper, remembering how I knew this room I saw its owner Fabien crouched down to the floor and Foolish was laying on the floor unmoving, no air moving is chest, and a pool of jade blood, growing around his head. Fabien eyes meet mine “he got shot the bullet came form nowhere, he's not coming back, he always comes back in a meter of seconds but he has moved, I saw him get hit by a canon, beheaded, and ripped apart by wild horses. He always came back” “can the gun kill some one like him” I didn’t even know where Lunie was, I didn’t even realize I was sitting on the floor by his head helpless I held my hands over him trying to figure out some way to fix him but I was way over my head. i heard Lunie asked her question and her calling my name but I couldn't speak. Foolish was indestructible, with his history he was suppose to survive anything, bounce back from any wound no matter how great the weapon. Yet here he lies by one of my own creations. i tested the gun before but I not on a person, an di would have never guessed it would be able to kill some one like Foolish. Yelling my name this time with a shack on my shoulder “….twice” “what” “She fired the gun twice, and there's only one shout in him.” So who else did she shoot, mom was fine, I shrugged I couldn’t even get my mind to focus on one thing. It was whirlwind of emotions and thoughts. But one thing for sure I was going to kill the warden by the end of the night. “where can we take him” Lunie sounded more scared then I was. “no hospital, humans couldn’t help him even if they what they where doing” “E” barley whispering but I could feel both sets of eyes on me. Taking Foolish’s head I laid him in my lap cradling him close “Uncle E should know what to do, mom would be to hysterical, and no one would ever help a vagabond.” I felt a hand on my shoulder and for a moment a split second I felt the smallest spark of hope but that was diminish quickly. The cavern was no longer the bight fun filled carnival before, no one was around as if for the first tie it was closed. None of the games where on, some where covered in dust as if never played and some where rusting and quickly falling part. The smell of old popcorn and grease invaded my noise, a few of the fistive light were still light but flickering out. gather foolish in my arm I stood up looking at the dystopia “hello” my voice echoed off the walls, no response back. then looking ahead there was a figure standing in the fading light, focusing on it, I recognized the guy. Although I never seen him in any other position then setting at the diner bar sleeping over a cup of coffee, I knew him. He didn’t say anything, I wasn’t even sure if he was staring back at me but hs dead eyes where in our direction. Turning he headed down the path I knew to the prize room. the whole way I zoned out knowing what to except when we got there, and trying too prepare myself for it was impossible. The lights that came from under the door was fading in and out a faint sound of harsh breathing came form behind it. on one side of the door stood the cook head down arms folded , his head hung low and his eyes close. Before reaching the door the bar guy took his stands on the other side of the door posing the same statue like pose as his companion. emotions filled my eyes as I situated foolish in a different position so I could get the knob. Twisting the knob I walked in to see betty jerking up to see us with make up running down her face and eyes red and puffy. Her hands was glowing a pale light as it applied pressure to Uncle E’s chest, looking up a the ceiling he struggled to breath and only inches from leaving this plain. The lights mimicked his breathing getting dimmer with each breath. I could faintly her betty telling me to lay foolish next to E as I saw my world crashing down around me. I placed him next to E, with a glowing palm Betty laid her other hand on his wound. Hugging my knees to my chest I watched in the corner as Betty worked on them, I could see she was straining to do her best but I could see the end and I wasn’t sure how I was going to piece my life back together after this. Lunie wrapped her arms over me as she sat with me, and Fabien was standing opposite of us watching it all happen. His eyes red with tears, I wanted to yell, why was he here he wasn’t there for Foolish the whole time I knew him and longer before that. I want to shut , fight , kill, but that was his brother on the floor and I had no right to push him out. We watched for what seemed to be hours as Betty proceeded her attempt to heal them, but there was no improvement in either of them. The whole time I kept hoping Foolish would pop up and say one of his bizarre stories or one of those stupid jokes. Or even goodbye. Soon the lights in the came to a point you could barley see figures, then Betty’s hands were the only source of light. Then. Nothing. Soft cries came from Lunie and Fabien, I could even here a few sniffs from outside the door, but I was silent, I couldn’t bring myself to cry, yell, to be angry, to fell anything. I was numb beyond comparison, I never thought I would see the person that taught me so much and allowed me to do the same leave. No hart felt moment no, no last words, just gone. I saw a faint glow fill up the room but my gaze couldn’t break from there bodies. I heard foot steps near me then a cold wet hand on my chin forcing me to look away. Betty was glaring at me in a way I never experienced from any one, it was a shared pain that only we understood. She placed a lantern next to us as her bloody hand kept hold of me I don't like you, in fact I really hate you. But we are one in the same, we are killers, and enjoy doing so, we take great pleasure and pride in our art. And dare any one to say other wise. Me and you we don’t fell the need to cry, we are not made to cry. We are made to start and finish wars over those that were taken from us” the fir e in her was igniting in me the numbness was still there but it was joined by soothing else “Emotions tend to slow down what we need to do.” Rage, it was rage every thing else became nothing until all there was left was rage “find those that destroyed you” she looked back at them “destroyed us” a small termer came off her lip but went bac to the cold line before. “Find them, rip the apart. Know this will not bring you peace, but it will warm you to feast on their veil harts.” She pulled me up, standing with her she had a weak smile “I never seen you like this before, your eyes are so black, and teeth so sharp.” She placed a hand on my cheek, she peered into me, and I her. We had an understanding, nothing was to stop me, noting would save me form the path I was going down. But that didn’t matter, none of it did all that I cared for was satisfying my Rage and hunger.

#dared to write #forgotten gods

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twiggyhecate · 8 years

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Deep in the heart of the Shire, the entrance might look just like a rabbit hole, just a meter beneath these tunnels leads to a stunning cave known locally as The Caynton Caves. These 700 year hand-made caves carved out of sandstone were used as a secret place of worship by followers of the Knights Templar, whom are believed to have been among the wealthiest and most powerful of the Western Christian military orders.

Who went through all that effort to dig this place? Was it really followers of the Knights Templar? Or something else entirely?

And what of even further implications? If this place is hidden in a discreet hole in the ground in the middle of woodland, only a few miles from where I grew up, how many others are out there, centuries old and waiting for discovery?

The hole to the underground Cavern is hidden in dense woodland in the small Hamlet of Caynton, near Shifnal the entrance to a man-made neo-Romanesque cavern, hidden less than a metre beneath a farmer’s field. They are located about 250 metres (820 ft) west of Caynton Hall.

Caynton Hall, (also known as Coynton Hall), interestingly has listed on the Parks and Gardens website a grotto which states that the grotto was created: 1800 to 1850.

“The grotto is cut from a disused red sandstone quarry. The entrance is plain, but the interior, which comprises a series of ‘ambulatories’ and ‘sanctuaries’ supported on pillars, is decorated in the neo-Norman style” http://www.parksandgardens.org/places-and-people/site/5040/description

Why are they associated with the Knights Templars?

The Templars, who had acquired estates in Shropshire by 1158, owed their original endowments to William FitzAlan and Herbert de Castello. Looking through all the properties listed in the Shropshire Archives which have been composed for Shropshire-History Website, no properties or land was listed in Caynton or the surrounding areas, many of the properties listed were in the South of the County, so this really is an enigma.

The caves in Shropshire were once a place of pilgrimage and worship for followers of the Knights Templar, a feared fighting force during the Crusades who built an international power base on their reputation and spoils.

The untouched caverns date back to a time when the Knights were prominent before King Philip IV of France, fearful of their power and deeply in their debt, attempted to dismantle the renowned group.

The Knights Templar were a wealthy order of knights created in 1129 by the Pope who wore distinctive white mantles with a red cross over their armour. Its original purpose was to protect pilgrims from bandits on their journey to Jerusalem. The Templars built their churches with circular naves, in imitation of the circular Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem.

The religious group were rumoured to have carried round the Holy Grail, most commonly identified as the cup that Jesus drank from at the Last Supper and that Joseph of Arimathea used to collect Jesus’s blood when he was crucified.

The incredibly religiously significant artefact has never been discovered, but there is a chance it may have been used by the Knights Templar in Shropshire. Out of fear that they would lose the artefact during the suppression of their beliefs in 1307, it is believed the order smuggled the Holy Grail to Scotland where it remains buried beneath Rosslyn Chapel.The Holy Grail could well have passed through Shropshire en route to its final resting place.

However, a 2006 book claims that the Grail was instead taken to Northern Spain, and protected by the Knights Templar there.

These stunning caves have lay dormant for years and it is still not known exactly when they were carved. Some believe it was by their knights 700 years ago while some think it was by their followers in the 17th century. If this is a temple, it’s rather exciting as only six churches were built in England by The Knights Templars.

When looking at the font which has been reported by the owners to have been moved around somewhat, it does lend itself in design to that which belongs to Garway Church.

The Hospitaller font with serpent and cross carving. The triangular motifs

In 2012, it was widespread reported in the local press and a couple of British Tabloids that the owners of the caves closed them to people wanting to visit after they found they had been filled with candles, graffiti and rubbish. The entrance to the caves was sealed up in attempt to keep the trespassers at bay.

The Daily Mail reported in 2012 that dark forces were at work and a section of the Caynton Caves which were littered with sinister symbols and rubbish after being taken over by a Satanic Cult.

Amongst the mystic mystic sigils (seals) competed for crowded wall space with more modern scrawled messages, written by youths who have turned the temple into a drinking den, that was closed by the Owners in 2012.

The site ranks alongside Castle Ring, a public Stone Age monument near Cannock Wood, Staffordshire, which has become a hotspot for Druids. Some believe the grotto is more recent, dug out in the 1850s by a wealthy family (The Legge Family) which also owned the hall as family folly.

Photographer Michael Scott, from Birmingham, 33, captured the eerie pictures of the inside for the first time since it was shut in 2012.

Shropshire’s Links with The Templars

Within Ludlow Castle is an early Norman chapel dedicated to St Mary Magdalene. Some people say it may have been associated with the Templars as the interior carvings include two Templar crosses and because of the group’s affiliation to St Mary Magdalene. It also has a round nave, again in the image of the Holy Sepulchre Church.

Penkridge Hall, Leebotwood

Penkridge Hall in Leebotwood was built on the site of the former Lydley Preceptory, a building serving as an administration centre for a group of Templars. It was founded in 1158 and closed in 1308 when the order was dissolved.

St Jame’s Church in Cardington was acquired by the Templars in 1186 and the first documented priest was Arnulf. After the suppression of the Templars in 1308, Cardington Church was taken over by the Crown and given to the Knights Hospitaller in 1314, an order of knights created in 1113 by the Pope to provide care for sick, poor or injured pilgrims.

Stanton Long Grange was founded in 1221 as a farm and closed in 1308 when the order was dissolved. The site is at the hamlet of Brookhampton but nothing now remains.

This is not the only underground cave system which has unusual carvings in the Shire. Kinver Million Cave houses what appears to be a statue to a Pagan Goddess.

Kinver Million Cave a Pagan Goddess

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=jfvqZR1C5C0

So, whether this enigmatic labyrinth was a rich families folly or a secret temple that housed the holy grail who is to know ? One thing is certain, this sleepy little Hamlet deep in the Shropshire Countryside is receiving worldwide attention.

Twiglet

Sources and further reading

Caynton Caves http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2090338/Caynton-Caves-Black-magic-rituals-force-closure-mysterious-site-owners-lose-patience-trespassing-cult.html#ixzz4alyJT2GY

Read more at http://www.shropshirestar.com/news/2017/03/07/in-pictures-secret-knights-templar-caves-beneath-a-shropshire-field/#36diQwxoGTyeS2Fp.99

Templars in Shropshire, British History http://www.british-history.ac.uk/vch/salop/vol2/pp85-86

Shropshire History, The Templars. http://www.shropshirehistory.com/military/templar.htm

The accounts for the Templars’ estates in Shropshire and Staffordshire, 1308-9 and 1311-13 http://blogs.cardiff.ac.uk/knightstemplarsestates/2015/11/03/the-accounts-for-the-templars-estates-in-shropshire-and-staffordshire-1308-9-and-1311-13/

Caynton Hall http://www.parksandgardens.org/places-and-people/site/5040/description

Mysterious Knights Templars Caverns Revealed in the Shire Deep in the heart of the Shire, the entrance might look just like a rabbit hole, just a meter beneath these tunnels leads to a stunning cave known locally as The Caynton Caves.

#caynton cave #Caynton Knights Templar #holy grail #holy grail shropshire #knights templars #knoghts templar cave in shropshire #mysterious caves shropshire #pagan temple #templars shropshire

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