#*still acts like a knight all the damn time*

[dutybcrne]

Think abt Huffman & Kaeya having a Jean-Mikasa moment when they first met

[kxlinthesky]

Godddddd the fact that the protagonist's only character flaw is called "White Knight Syndrome" where he's just the nicest most gallant guy around but everyone looks at him funny for it is just

jDSHFjdhsjfahsldfhdajhsfjsafhjaklhfkjla

[kingdomvel]

Steddie | 2.3k | first part

“Okay, what was that?” Gareth asks the moment they are inside the room they are using as a dressing room for tonight.

“What was what,” Eddie answers.

“You know damn well what I mean.”

Eddie doesn’t answer, putting his best poker face on.

“That weird mating ritual you have been performing with the boy in the front row the whole night, maybe?” Jeff adds.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” Eddie says, his voice flat as he tries to avoid the other’s gazes. He takes a towel to dab at his forehead.

“Come on, man,” Freak butts in, “you told him to stay after the concert, you have told Chrissy to get them here. We said we were not going to be that kind of band, that we were going to be like My Chemical Romance: no groupies and after concert dnd sessions.”

“Yeah, if you go with that guy what happens to our dnd session.”

“We can play dnd any other day, okay?” Eddie snaps, his hands stretched in front of him. A part of him thinks he looks like that meme of Chris Pratt in front of the dinosaurs, the other part of him detests that he thought of him. “I will make it up to you.”

“Who are you and what have you done to our DM?” Freak asks, his voice serious.

“Yeah, what is this talk about postponing dnd for some boy?” Gareth adds, there is something in his tone Eddie doesn’t like.

“Some boy? Some boy? Am I the only one with eyes in this fucking band? He is the hottest person that has laid eyes on me and I’m not letting you fuckers take that opportunity from me for one session of dnd or I swear to God I am killing every one of your characters.”

The boys don’t answer, they look at him with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.

“Wow” a voice says from behind Eddie.

He doesn’t recognize the voice but the expressions on the rest of the band in front of him make him freeze. They go from slightly annoyed to wary and to bemused. Mainly a mix of all at the same time.

The sounds of steps approaching them break the silence that had fallen in the room, before a voice finishes breaking it.

“How does dnd work with you nerds anyway, are you all bards or what?”

The boys drop their mouths open. Eddie still doesn’t recognize the voice, but there is only one person it can belong to. He sounds just as good as he had imagined. Eddie is honestly afraid of turning around after what the boy- Steve- has surely heard.

“Don’t pay attention to him,” a woman’s voice says. There’s the sound of a hit and a quiet ‘ow’ from Steve under it. “He is just trying to sound all confident after whining-“

“Robin.”

“Telling me to not get my hopes up because he probably wasn’t anyone important and you just did this every concert-“

“Robin.”

“But of course he is the luckiest bitch in this planet and has his instant crush reciprocated and-“

“Enough!”

There are some muffled noises that Eddie can only guess are the girl trying to continue speaking. He wishes she wouldn’t stop. His knight in shining armour may be embarrassed, but the rant has put a smile on Eddie’s face, has given him confidence again. He crosses his legs and turns around slowly, his hands coming up beside him.

“By all means, let her continue.”

The adonis, the hottest man that has laid eyes on him, his knight in shining armour, Steve takes his hand away from the girl’s mouth and rubs it on his jeans. Eddie can only guess the girl has licked it. God he wants to be her so bad right now.

“Hey,” Steve says, his hand coming up for a small wave. “Sorry about Robin.”

“No need for that. I’m Eddie.”

“I know,” Steve answers with a cocky smile as he crosses his arms.

“Oh and now you are acting all full of yourself as if you didn’t ask for the name of the band like 20 times 2 hours ago.” Robin says.

“Will you please just shut the fuck up?” Steve asks with the confidence only a best friend can have.  

“Not a fan then?” Eddie asks amused.

“Not really my scene,” Steve answers. There is a scoff behind Eddie, and if he wasn’t so lost in Steve’s brown eyes, he may have moved to swat whoever it was. “But I sure am a fan now.”

There is now a groan behind Eddie, but he can only focus on the way his heart jumps at the words, the way Steve’s mouth lifts in one side in a smirk, how his eyes spark.  

“I can get you front row tickets to all the gigs, baby.”

There’s a gagging noise being Eddie, and this time he does turn around to swat at Gareth. The little shit just laughs at him.

When he turns back towards Steve he is looking between them with a smile on his lips and he looks- damn- he’s been looking beautiful since he saw him at the beginning of the concert that night, but now his hair is a mess from the almost two hours of sweating and moving around and Eddie’s on stage confidence is slowly being replaced by his fast beating heart.

“Look man I-“ Steve starts, “I don’t want to be a problem,” he adds, glancing behind Eddie as he bites his lip. The girl next to him- Robin- turns to him with an incredulous look on her eyes that Eddie is sure mirrors his own. “But you are hot, I want to take you on a date, and the others wanted to meet you.”

Robin rolls her eyes and looks at Eddie with an eyebrow up.

“The others?” Eddie manages to say, just before he remembers the teenagers around Steve all night.

“Yeah, they are with Chrissy, I asked them to give us five minutes before coming.”

Eddie is about to say something, maybe ask about the date Steve mentioned, but in a second the door is filled with said teenagers, the one with the curly hair in the middle of it.

“YOU GUYS ARE LEGENDS!” he exclaims. It makes Eddie less annoyed about being interrupted. No one has really called them legends before, they have just surpassed 150k listeners in Spotify.

It feels good hearing it.

The dressing room fills with chatter fast, the boys and the teenagers getting along without problem. They take photos, talk about music, about their instruments, about their dnd tradition. The bad part of it all is that Eddie gets separated from Steve. He catches his eye at some point and Steve sends a little wave his way that he answers. He is talking with Robin and Chrissy and, by what Eddie can hear, Chrissy is getting every video Robin has managed to get of Eddie’s and Steve’s interactions through the concert, even a closer video of the kiss than the one Chrissy managed to get. From what he can hear, she wants to post everything on their social media before ‘someone else does and steals the chance at going viral from them’.

Eddie doesn’t know how he feels about posting Steve like that, Eddie should have probably thought, about that before making out with the guy in front of all their audience. But he seems completely comfortable with all of it. Eddie guesses that comes with being as hot as Steve is and knowing it.

It’s some time later, enough that Eddie knows they won’t be able to stay much longer in the venue, that he finally has a chance to slip away. It’s perfect, he has just seen Steve leave the dressing room, probably in search of the toilet, and Gareth and the curly hair boy he has learned is called Dustin are so deep in conversation they don’t notice him stepping away from them and leaving too.

He catches Steve just as he is leaving the toilet. Eddie doesn’t stop to answer Steve’s surprised ‘oh, hey’ that turns into a more surprised ‘woah’ as Eddie pushes him back into the toilet and closes the door behind him.

“Hey” Eddie finally greets. Steve only looks at the closed door behind Eddie and then at him again with what Eddie hopes is amusement. God, he really hopes it’s amusement, he is just not realising how creepy this looks. “So, about that date.”

“Couldn’t wait until I came back?”

“No. I mean, yes.” Why is it so difficult to talk with a pretty boy? Eddie takes a deep breath, composes himself. Theatrics, he is good with those, they make him confident. “I was suffering, being deprived from your company by your companions, and didn’t have another option.”

Steve squints his eyes, “so you decided to have the date in the toilet?”

“What? No.”

Steve takes a step closer to Eddie so now their chests are almost touching. It hadn’t downed on Eddie before how they are almost the same height. It feels very important now when he has Steve’s face right in front of him, when he can look directly at his eyes, at how they drift down to Eddie’s lips. When his inevitably drift to Steve’s lips, the boy is biting his lower lip. “Eager.”

Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat, he may have miscalculated this. There’s something he wanted to say. “No, I-“

Steve chuckles, takes a step back. “Relax dude. I know you haven’t really agreed to the date yet, we got interrupted and all that.” Eddie is about to speak, to agree a thousand times to the date, but Steve keeps talking. “You just offered to buy me a couple of drinks and called me hot,” he smiles when he says that.

“I want the date.” Eddie says before Steve can keep talking, “as soon as possible.”

Steve steps back closer. “Eager.”

“We are leaving on tour, won’t be back for three months.” Eddie explains before all his brain functions completely shut down.

“I can wait three months.”

“I can’t.”

The next second Steve’s lips are on his, his hands are on his hair, and it only takes a second for Eddie’s to do the same. Steve is even a better kisser than he was in front of the audience. Steve pushes him against the door, brings a hand to his hip, pushes one of his legs between Eddie’s. Eddie just groans and lets himself be pushed and moved. Kissed. “Fuck,” he whispers when Steve pulls away for breath. Steve smiles, takes one of Eddie’s hands in his, and kisses him again. It’s so sweet and filthy at the same time Eddie might cry, but he just moves his hips forward, and Steve answers in kind, grinding against him and getting a groan out of both of them. Maybe the rockstars that hook up with people after concerts are onto something. Though Eddie doubts he would want to do this with someone that is not Steve.

A knock on the door startles them both, Robin’s voice coming from the other side.

“Steve?” Steve and Eddie stop kissing to look at each other in silence, their eyes wide. “Chrissy said we need to leave already and you’ve been in there so long I started to worry you were kidnapped. Wait, you are in there, right? Also, have you seen Eddie? He disappeared.” Steve moves, an innocent thing that has his groin brushing against Eddie’s. And he is only a man. He moans. “WAIT! Are you both in there? GROSS.”

Steve snorts, making Eddie smile. They can hear a couple of steps moving away from the door before they come back and there is a bang on the door.

“Steve! Come out you dingus, have you forgotten about your pack of kids?”

Steve lets out a whispered ‘fuck’ before he looks at Eddie with an apology in his eyes. Eddie lets himself be moved away from the door so Steve can open it to talk to his friend outside.

“Hey.”

Eddie opens the door more so he can also fit in the gap, Steve sends him a look, smiles at his appearance, and then looks at Robin again.

“Hey” Eddie greets too. Robin is looking at them and there is no hiding what they have been doing. She can surely see their bruised lips, their wild hair. Eddie just prays she doesn’t look down and sees the bulge in his pants.

“You two are gross, was making me see that once tonight not enough?”

“You have not really seen it this time,” Steve points.

“Still.”

“You are the one that came to interrupt.”

“And for a good reason! Your kids.”

“What about the kids,” Eddie asks.

“He promised to take them home.” Robin says.

“I promised to take them home.” Steve says at the same time, a resigned tone in his voice. He turns to Eddie, his brown eyes sad, and pinches his nose.

“Can’t she take them home?” Eddie points to Robin, and they both turn towards her again.

Robin takes a breath, stops, looks at them, looks at them, sees the tent in Eddie’s pants. Grimaces.

“FINE,” she agrees, and Eddie grins. “But you owe me. Big time.” She adds pointing at Steve.

“I’ll give you ice cream for life.” Steve says. It must be an inside joke because it makes Robin roll her eyes.

“Give me your car keys at least. Rockstar here can drive you home, can’t he?”

“I’ll have him home before eleven.” Eddie swears with a hand on his chest. The other two stare at him in silence. “A.m.” he adds.

“You heard him.” Steve says while handing Robin his keys.

“Okay,” Robin answers. She takes a step back. “Have fun.” She takes a couple of steps away before she turns around. “Use protection, he is a rockstar, we don’t know where his thing has been.”

“Hey,” Eddie protests, but Robin is already running away.

“She is kinda right.” Steve says with a shrug. Eddie purses his lips. “But I have an idea on where it can be in the near future.”

“Lead the way.”

Steve slips his hand into Eddie’s.

[maitadori]

WRAPPED AROUND YOUR FINGER sfw jing yuan x afab!reader

word count : 1.1k

content / cw : fluff, suggestive, making out, smug and teasing jing yuan, cutie yanqing

summary : being the general’s secretary is such a piece of work. why does he insist on getting handsy instead of doing his job? or: in which jing yuan has fallen for his emotionally constipated assistant and your lips look too inviting.

a/n: DISCLAIMERRR!!!! as a poc with melanin, whenever i describe the reader’s face as “hot” that is up for interpretation, it doesn’t necessarily mean i’m saying your cheeks are red. just wanted to put that out there have this piece until i can try to conjure up ideas for weak willed cloud knight mwah mwah

DARK CONTENT BLOGS PLZ DNI!!!

“general.” you enter the room with a stack of papers in hand, trying your best not to groan when you already see a pile of undone documents sitting there. you expected as much, yet you still sighed in disappointment every time.

your general— who was on the verge of falling asleep— immediately perks up at the familiar click of your shoes as you walk into his office.

“[name], you’re here,” he sighs out, almost fondly. you ignore it in favor of giving him a scolding look.

“you haven’t done a thing since i left this morning, general. do i need to hold your hand through every single file?” your eyes are fierce and your mouth is molded into a frown. jing yuan can’t help but savor your features despite that.

in response to you, he mutters out wistfully, “maybe you do.”

you roll your eyes and set down his papers, right next to the other stack. “general, you can’t keep slacking off like this. lady fu xuan might sweep your position from right under your nose if you keep this up.”

“does that mean i get to spend all of my free time with you?” he ignores your words in favor of bringing you in by the waist. you grip his wrist and try your hardest to pry it off of you.

“don’t you do that already?!” your expression is flushed and he revels in it. even though you try to act and look angry, he notices the subtle way you lean into him.

he reels you into him, bringing you around his desk to where he’s sitting behind in his chair, making you stand between his legs. you’re tugged into his chest and you stop yourself from toppling into his lap by hastily pressing your hands against his collarbones.

“general! you are so inappropriate!!” your tone is scolding.

jing yuan sighs, a faux look of sorrow painting his features, “didn’t i tell you to call me jing yuan?” his voice has a small adoring tone to it, something that you don’t feel like digging deep into at the moment, aware of what you might uncover.

“didnt i tell you that’s improper of me? i’m your subordinate. what would people think if i called you by your given name? they’d suspect you favor me.” you shook your head in exasperation, sighing once more— you seemed to do that a lot in his presence.

“but you are my favorite, if they suspected anything of the sort they’d be absolutely correct,” he says, tugging on your formal wear. you stammer, putting your hand over his in a feeble way to stop him.

“could you shut up for once?!” you exclaim, yet in a whispery voice in fear of others who walk by hear.

“hmm?” he asks slyly, a smirk curling his lips.

“d—do your damn work! if you do, i promise to call you by your name.” by your face expression, jing yuan could tell this is taking a lot out of you and you’re extremely embarrassed. he would feel bad if he didn’t find you so adorable.

“will you let me kiss you, too?” he leans up into your lips.

“that’s definitely asking for too much!!!” you exclaim, face hot, and no longer worried about who might be outside this door.

but as he rubs circles into the fabric of your clothing, his breath hitting your cheeks, his lips nearing yours by the moment, your will is beginning to falter. before you can even realize what you’re doing, your eyes are slipping shut as your hands are sliding up to his shoulders.

“after this i’ll do my work, okay? i promise,” jing yuan whispers. from that alone, you’re nearly broken out of your trance, but before a word is able to leave your mouth his lips lock with yours.

he’s humming into the kiss, showing his obvious satisfaction. your face is warm and you reciprocate the kiss eagerly, almost embarrassed by the fervor.

you were really kissing your general.

he was nibbling your lips, pinching your waist to get access to your mouth, making your mind mush. you couldn’t believe this was happening.

jing yuan is stealing the breath straight from your lungs, and they’re replaced with breathy whimpers. his tongue is leaving no place in your mouth untouched, but by then, you’re already putty in his hold.

you can’t conjure up a single coherent thought, all protests from before becoming blurred and pushed to the back of your mind. his hand is at the seams of your top, his cold fingertips ghosting under it to ease his hands onto your warm skin. you shiver in anticipation.

his thumb rubs your waist before it slowly trails up to the fringe of your bra. he’s caressing the skin under it slowly, building you up for the moment his hand ventures under. you’re leaning into him further, trying to subtly goad him into giving in.

he smirks into the kiss, thumb sliding under the hem. but a loud, eager knock makes you both jolt apart.

before you can even comprehend the situation fully, you’re already backing away from him and adjusting your clothing, smoothening everything over.

jing yuan is watching you fondly, a tinge of smugness swimming beneath his eyes.

“state your name and business.” he calls out, eyes still on you.

“it’s yanqing, sir!”

you’re making eye contact with him now, your expression filled with flushed fury. “i cant believe you!” you whisper shouted before grabbing the small hand mirror that yanqing left on his desk to check your appearance.

your eyes nearly bulge out of your sockets once you catch sight of your swollen lips. “y—you..! how— i..!!! ugh!!!” you sputter, pointing between yourself and your general before giving up.

your general does nothing but chuckle at your misery. “i got too carried away.”

“don’t you always!?” you growl, your finger against your lips as you somehow try to get rid of the red puffiness.

“general?” yanqing calls from outside.

due to your conversation, you both nearly forgot he was even there.

before jing yuan could call him in, you’re stalking towards the door. your hand grabs the handle, but before you pull it open, you look back to your general who’s smirking. “you better do your work, jing yuan. or this will never happen again!” you both sensed the lie in your tone, but one of you was too surprised to point it out.

you were only given a mere second to revel in his baffled look before you walked out, letting yanqing in.

“[name]!” yanqing calls happily. “can i come over to your place tonight?” he asks, face glowing.

you smile, patting his head. “of course you can. i’ll cook your favorite too, alright?”

yanqing cheers, “alright!! i’ll train as hard as i can, so can you please make dessert too?”

you give him a noise of confirmation, smiling at his joy before you’re walking off.

jing yuan could only watch the scene in envy, glaring down yanqing as he practically skips into the office humming a tune of “[name]’s making me dessert~”.

yanqing turns to his general, brow quirking at his troubled expression.

“what got your panties in a twist?”

“nothing.” he grits out. you had the audacity to call him by his name in your beautiful alluring voice, and invite yanqing to your house, in front of him!! next time he saw you it was more than your lips he was taking for his own.

a/n : anyone wanna be added to my jing yuan taglist? he’s been growing on me a lot so expect more of him too ^v^

[lovemomhatepolice]

drew starkey nswf alphabet (part 1) (minors DNI!)

navigation taglist requests

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Drew is very caring. You can never complain about lack of attention or proper care. He even forgets himself sometimes so long as you are well taken care of. Fortunately, you are able to balance the middle ground so that both of you are maximally satisfied and cared for. After sex, he is even more cuddly. He is constantly following you, never leaving your side B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) I don't know if he has favorite body parts, both with you and with himself. Drew is really a person who admires the whole body. He realizes that he's damn handsome and well-groomed, so he likes himself in general. With you, he has the same. He likes, loves your body as a whole. Okay but how do you connect during sex in this one place. GOD!!! C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) He's a fan of ending up inside you. If you just let him, of course, he seizes the opportunity every time. It probably connects with his breeding kink, but you have no problem with it. You even quite like it... D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) Everyone is familiar with this popular tweet about spitting in the mouth. And everyone is well aware that it was certainly memorable for this man. Surely he won't let go of talking about it, and maybe he'll wait to talk about it himself? E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) Well he is experienced, although he hasn't had many girlfriends or side hook-ups in his life. He knows perfectly well what he is doing, how he should move, what to touch. A good knight with good weapons. It can work wonders with your body, even without much care (although he still tries hard) F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) A fan of the classic missionary! It could be simple, but no, the missionary gives him plenty of options. He can change his angle in you, kiss you wherever he wants, he can perfectly see the place where you connect. Well, he has to pamper his pillow princess and he doesn't mind it at all G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Drew laughs a lot, oh, hearing his throaty laugh during sex is something else. it often happens to him, but you don’t protest. You also have moments of silliness, and your whole act becomes a place of silly text. However, more often he happens to be serious, grown man behave like this, right? (kidding aside this man will do anything to make you laugh. Well unless you happen to be crying from arousal)

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Little hair on top = little hair on the bottom. He likes to keep everything well trimmed. Even his hands happen to shave, so what's the surprise that he's shaved in his intimate areas. I think with you, he would also expect you to have it neat so he could dive in there without a problem I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) He can really be affectionate during sex. If you feel that way, that's how he will be. He loves to give emotion into it, not to show that it's carnal pleasure alone. He likes to tell you all sorts of compliments, to show that he cares, that it feels good. If you want rose petals, you'll have rose petals J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Oh, he doesn't have to worry about that. You're both aroused at the same time, and if you're not, let's not lie to each other - one word and you're already on your knees. And if you're not next to each other? He keeps it inside and waits until you meet, then your act has even more power K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Breeding. The beautiful man is now over thirty, and a light has gone on in his head about starting a family. And when you showed up, he can't stand it all the more without a vision of you with a belly full of his baby L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Wherever you want. Drew is quite submissive about it. The bed, the countertop, the wall, the shower. Wherever you want, really. And he'll run after you like a stray puppy. But sex in the tub, oh, just a word, and he's already there. Ready and compact for action. Bubbles, warm water, steam rising in the bathroom, oh god M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) You in his too-big-for-you T-shirts with nothing underneath, oh god, this man is already on his knees for you. Or the sight of your hips moving to the beat of the music, especially close to his crotch, oh, it's too much for him

A/N: part two BUZZ CUT DREW I'M CRYING

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[teddybeartoji]

prince!dazai is the bane of your existence.

as his appointed knight, you are to keep a keen eye on him, which means you get to spend almost every single hour of the day with him.

he loves it, you know he does.

the gleam in his dark brown eyes when you greet him with a roll of your eyes is unmistakable, the lilt in his voice irritable as ever. you pull on the curtains and let the sun shower him in its warm light and watch as the man before you stretches himself across the bed – he reminds you of a spoiled housecat, his eyes falling shut as a dramatic whine falls from his lips, his back arching off the bed with a sliver of skin peeking from underneath his shirt and the bandages that reside under the soft material. it's barely an inch, but it catches your attention nonetheless.

you avert your gaze when he cracks an eye to glance at you with a sly, sleepy grin plastered onto his face.

the servants should be doing this – the morning routine. the curtains, the bed, the washing, the dressing up. it's should be their job, not yours. you're trained to kill, trained to protect, not to act like a damn maid.

and yet, here you are.

on the prince's wishes.

of course.

but you're mostly used to it by now. for weeks, you've been doing this – babying a grown man just because it's what he so wants. sure, his father tried to talk him out of it on your behalf but without it was in vain, as the prince stayed true to his own heart's desire.

every day, the prince waits for you to wake him. every day, the prince smiles all too sweetly at your annoyed looks. he truly does love it.

"good morning, my little knight!" his voice light as the spring sun that shines behind the windows. he pushes himself up into a sitting position, the big blanket pooling around his middle as he rubs his eyes.

"yeah."

your blunt answer doesn't falter his mood, if anything, it only eggs him on. "what's the schedule today, sunshine?"

turning your back on him, you move to pull apart the remaining curtains as well, and crack open a window to grace the prince with some fresh air. "breakfast, your highness."

dazai laughs quietly, his head falling to his shoulder as he stares at you. "and?"

turning to face him again, you grant him a fake little smile. the one he so very much adores. "let's take it one step at a time, yes?"

you're giving him room to mess with you.

just like now, he's taking his sweet time with the easiest task of the day – getting out of bed, and so you know if you tell him the actual things he has to do, he'll most definitely try to screw it all up for the sake of his entertainment.

he's bored out of his mind, that's why he's doing it.

he's read every book in the humongous library the castle has, he's played every move a person could ever possibly think of in a chess game against the various opponents he could find around the place – he's fucking bored, and you're the only one keeping him remotely sane in this stone cell.

dazai looks at you with his eyes low, mischief flickering in the dark orbs. you open the door to the bathroom, gesturing for him to finally start his day by washing up, so you could make the bed and ready his outfit. "please?"

that's the word you've had to learn over the time you've had to share with him. at first, you couldn't even stomach it. the magic word. the young man was relentless on coaxing you to say it, his irritable behaviour pulling at every nerve in your body. but when you finally told yourself that the reaction will only be demeaning at first, that the more you'd use it the more over it you'd get – it wasn't too hard anymore. you still have to convince yourself that you're doing it as a way for him to play along with you, not as a way for him to play with you.

you're above it. your job is to serve and to protect, a simple world won't wash down all of the punishing training you've had to go through. it's fine.

the smile he gives you makes your eye twitch.

but it does work.

dazai chirps as he pushes off the blanket, his feet plopping onto the wooden floor with a soft thud. he stretches again, he yawns again. a spoiled cat. he runs a hand through his messy hair, now making his way over to you with slow steps. you don't comment, you don't want to hear the quip he'll hit you back with, so you just keep your tongue and simply give him a small bow of your head.

he thinks it's very endearing. how despite the fact that he bothers you like nothing else, you never stop being a proper knight. that there still is a part of you that thinks of him so highly, no matter how much you might want to punch him in his beautiful face.

"don't miss me too much!" is what he says as he closes the door behind him. you scoff.

while he gets ready, you take the time to make his bed. with the rough hands of yours, you soften every wrinkle on the bedding and fluff up the pillows, so they'd be ready for him to rest his heavy head on them after the day. you set the blanket and then walk over to the massive walk-in closet, filled with the most expensive materials and the most beautiful colors.

he lets you pick the outfits and only whines about them for the point of whining, rarely ever having any real critique on his mind. you know his taste, you know exactly what he likes to wear, and in his mind, this is a perfect way for him to learn more about you too. you refuse to tell him anything anyway, so he'll take every scrap and crumb you offer him. what colors you go for, what type of shirt and pants – dazai's never been one to think about clothes so much, but in order to crack open your head and take a look inside, he'll do everything.

you're the book he's reading now. the one he's devoted himself to, the one he plans on deciphering and dissecting with his keen eyes.

by the time he steps out of the bathroom with a minty fresh breath and new, clean bandages, his little knight and his little outfit are already waiting for him by the bed.

he saunters closer, his hands locked behind his back. "white and blue for today, hm?"

"well, i am but a mere brute but the colors do look good together, no?"

you hold his gaze.

he hums with a smile. "they do."

dazai's brushes against you as he leans to grab the clothes and you try not to think about it. you watch as he disappears behind the partition, with only tufts of his hair poking out from the top as he moves around. you hear shuffling and a few hushed sighs as dazai struggles to keep his balance while putting on his socks. that's what you think he's having trouble with at least.

after a minute or two, soft footsteps draw your attention and you're met with the not-so-disheveled prince. "ta-daa!"

you click your tongue and take a step forward, your eyes dropping from his to his crooked collar instead. you reach out and he lets you.

eyebrows furrowed together, you work on the material of his shirt, the slanted fold tormenting your mind. you've been taught to keep things clean and proper, and so is the prince and still, in your company, he seems to forget his lessons.

"don't sell yourself short, my little knight." he purrs, his eyes glued to your focused expression. "you're definitely more than a mere brute."

teasing as ever.

"but of course, how could i forget... i am also a maid and a servant and a clown all at once." you wear the same fake-smile as before.

his grin grows bigger, the glimmer in his eyes brighter.

"see, you get it. no reason to put yourself down in front of your prince."

you inhale through your nose, your eyes closing at his mocking comment. pride blooms in dazai's chest at every reaction you give him.

brushing non-existent dust off his shoulders, you step from in front of him and point towards the door with a low hand. "well, my prince, shall we move to the dining room now then?"

flattery is as good with him as it is bad – you know your overly kind words will bite you back sometime later, but as long as you get him to actually do the things he has to do, you're fine with whatever. you've fought in battles, you've fought in wars, and so, an arrogant, smooth-voiced prince will surely not be the death of you.

he will not.

[a-bad-case-of-the-stephs]

Okay!

After nearly a full decade of our time of Stephanie Brown being told to go home and give up being Spoiler, Batman takes her on as a student and sanctions her, with no preamble or warning.

That’s weird, let’s talk about it.

Batmans strange choices in how he treats Stephanie Brown can only be understood by analyzing his character.

Let's place Batman in context of what is going on directly before his decision to bring in Stephanie Brown as part of the team. The last major event preceding Stephanie Brown being sanctioned is Officer Down, which by the time it concludes Batman has lost two of his oldest allies: Jim Gordon has retired and Alfred has resigned.

In the wake of Officer Down, I’d like to track two key conflicting characteristics of Batman, how they are exacerbated, and how they influence how Stephanie is treated.

1. A Longing for Companionship

Batman's desire for the company of others is increased post-Officer Down, as he deals with suddenly being isolated from most of his core group.

Other characters point this out:

Batman #590 (1940)

Additionally, for the first time in a long while, Bruce Wayne is entirely alone in the manor.

Gotham Knights #20 (2000)

So, why doesn’t Batman just do the normal, healthy thing and reach out to the loved ones he still has? I personally believe it’s because of how embarrassed he is after getting epically owned by Alfred, but the more general answer is: he’s the Batman.

Out of paranoia his feelings will be used against him, or out of fears those close to him will be harmed if he directly expresses affection for them, or out of just being too damn cool for “emotions”, any way you slice it, Batman is:

2. Deeply uncomfortable with appearing emotionally vulnerable

We can see this with one of Bruce’s primary response to immediate grief: denial and silence

A simple example of this is how he acts after Jason Todd is killed. Bruce completely refuses to acknowledge his existence, and remains utterly silent when confronted.

Batman #437 / #440 (1940)

Another easy example of this is how he inexplicably approaches Nightwing dressed as Matches Malone in order to express that he isn’t trying to step on his toes:

Nightwing #14 (1996)

While it varies over time how emotionally closed off Bruce is, I believe one of the biggest triggers for an increase in this emotional cut off is when he is made to feel helpless.

During Cataclysm, he is helpless to stop the earthquake or meaningfully protect Gotham, there’s no enemy to fight, it’s just pure random crappy luck. He responds to this feeling of circumstances being out of his immediate control by cutting off almost all of his allies and sending them out of Gotham.

After he learns about how Zatanna and some other JLers wiped his memory and betrayed his trust, his reaction is to create an artificial intelligence to spy on the Justice League.

When Batman is put in situations which makes him feel physically or emotionally vulnerable, when he’s subject to circumstances out of his control, Batmans response has been historically to double down and isolate himself and cover up any potential weaknesses by convincing himself he’s better off alone and paranoid.

Eventually, after some time of this, he has a big moment where he decides to let people in, but his knee jerk reaction is always to pull away first.

This aversion to vulnerability is in play during and post-Officer Down, where Bruce is confronted by Jim’s mortality and retirement as well as Alfred’s resignation, all “enemies” he can’t just punch away.

Nightwing #53 (1996) / Gotham Knights #13 (2000)

In the wake of Officer Down, these conflicting traits are prominently portrayed.

In particular, Gotham Knights #18 demonstrates how these ideas clash.

Batmans loneliness is explored heavily: he starts the comic off talking to a bat, repeatably calls Oracle who is trying to sleep, and wanders through the completely empty manor.

His loneliness is conveyed through how he is framed: a shadow in a batsuit, wandering though desaturated and darkened hallways and rooms, completely silently, like a ghost.

Finally, the silence ends. Bruce calls Aquaman, asking for help excavating his giant penny. They have an awkward conversation, until Aquaman eventually calls him on his BS, pretty much directly stating that the penny was a total excuse, and that Bruce just wanted company, that he only called because he was lonely.

Gotham Knights #18 (2000)

When confronted with his loneliness, we see his desire for companionship come into play. He tries to talk to the bat, to Oracle, and then Arthur.

We also see it mitigated by the second impulse, his aversion to vulnerability. He can't tell Oracle that he just wants to talk, he has to frame the interaction through a case that he himself admits he no longer needs her help with.

Likewise, he can't just tell Aquaman that he wants to hang out, he has to make up a lie about needing help moving his giant penny.

His desire for companionship drives him to reach out, while his aversion to emotional vulnerability forces him to obscure this desire for human connection.

So, thats fine and all, but what does any of this have to do with Stephanie Brown?

As I mentioned earlier, Officer Down is the event that occurs just before Batman brings Steph onto the team. I argue that this dynamic of yearning for companionship vs. resistance to emotional vulnerability influences heavily his decision to "sanction" her as Spoiler.

Stephanie as a balm for Batmans loneliness.

This is immediately clear if you compare how much he's talking in Gotham Knights #18 to how he chatters away at Stephanie. He directly references Tim and Alfred's absence. But unlike Gotham Knights #18 the absence is not a bad thing per se, its framed against Stephanie's presence, how he allows her to stay.

Green Arrow #5 (2001)

Stephanie's role in assuaging his loneliness is evident in other places as well, for instance, in the Gotham Knights Last Laugh tie in. Stephanie realizes she forgot to turn her comm of, and had been "blabbing in [his] ear all night", Batman reassures her that he isn't upset. Just the opposite in fact, he tells her to not turn it off, saying he "doesn't mind the company" and placing a hand awkwardly on her shoulder. He clearly appreciated the relief from his loneliness her "blabbing" had provided.

Gotham Knights #22 (2000)

So Batman's embarrassing loneliness might have had some role to play in him taking her on as a student and "sanctioning" her. But what about that second impulse? How does it come into play?

2. How Stephanie as an outsider allows for emotional vulnerability

Originally, Batman takes Stephanie on because he needed her to help him find Tim at Brentwood, as he is unable to go himself. The reasons he "can't" go himself only become clear when Tim confronts Bruce, calling him out for being afraid of running into Alfred.

Robin #87 (1993)

This scene illustrates how Stephanie satisfies the second impulse, her outsider status. Stephanie is different from the rest of the team.

Tim has access to the context and information which allows him to expose Batman's emotionally vulnerability. Tim can call out Batman out for his pettiness and cowardice in how he hides from Alfred.

But Stephanie? Stephanie doesn't know who Alfred is, or how embarrassing it is for Batman to be avoiding him after Alfred yelled at him and called him a baby. She doesn't have the context that Tim and the rest of the team have.

So what does this mean? It means that Batman can tell her shit that is not true, like that he calls his car "The Car" instead of the Batmobile. And, more importantly, it means that he can express emotional vulnerability without any of the potential consequence. She has no context, and she has no one to tell.

Alfred is beefing with her over Bruce's choice to tell her Tim's identity, so that potential friendship is over before it could begin. And she gets (seemingly) brushed off by Batgirl.

Robin #88 (1993)

She doesn't even have Tim, who Stephanies believes is mad at her.

Robin #94 (1993)

I cannot emphasize this enough: she has nobody to tell. And Batman absolutely knows this.

He is emotionally vulnerable with her, expressing concern for the future and uncertainty:

Robin #92 (1993)

This moment is weird. It stands out. Stephanie seems aware of the strangeness of this moment, she reflects on it internally.

This moment parallels something in another comic. His fears and uncertainties about bringing other people into his "war"? We see a similar dialogue in the beginning of Gotham Knights.

Gotham Knights #1 (2000)

These are his uncertainties and fears that he can normally only express through creating a case file where he writes in the third person, assessing himself as Batman as if he is a completely different person. But theres no subterfuge here. He just straight up tells Stephanie Brown, utterly unprompted.

And this isn't the last time it's mentioned. At least half a year later, at the very start of War Games, the strange and scary vulnerability of this moment is still etched in Stephanies mind.

Batman: The 12 Cent Adventure (2004)

And while Batman gets to dump his insecurities on Stephanie, it's not exactly reciprocal. Stephanie expresses fear that Batman will drop her if she goes to him for help after her dad threatens to kill her. She has no feeling of security in her place on the team if she's afraid of this.

Robin #94 (1993)

And she's not even wrong about Batman's willingness to fire her at the drop of a hat, it just occurs later.

And when it occurs is important. The events of Bruce Wayne: Murderer lead to Alfred coming back into the manor and Bruce's employ. It ends with a big reconcilltion between the primary team, where Bruce explains he's been off since Officer Down.

Batman #605 (1940)

Alfred is back, no questions asked. The "real" team gets an apology and an explanation. And in other words, Batman is no longer as alone as he was before.

Everyone was locked out of the cave during Bruce Wayne: Murderer/Fugitive, but Stephanie is the only one who is not let back in once it concludes. She doesn't get an explanation, and Batman did not seem to have a plan to tell her she's been fired. She had to track him down and confront him to find out he'd given up on her.

Gotham Knights #37 (2000)

We can see how his isolation contributes to how she is treated by who is told when she is fired/sanctioned. When he brings her on the team, no one knows ahead of time. We don't see him tell anyone at all. In contrast, once his primary support system is firmly reestablished post Bruce Wayne: Murderer, Bruce separately informs Tim, Cassandra, and Alfred that Stephanie was fired. He's able to do this because his web has been repaired.

Stephanie Brown essentially fulfills the same role as the bat that Bruce talks to in Gotham Knights #18.

A new presence, unencumbered with the point of view the rest of the team has, unknowing of Bruce's history of fucking up. A sounding board, a stand in for Bruce's normal company.

Stephanie's presence perfectly satiates the contrasting impulses Batman deals with when it comes to how he interacts with other characters. Through her, Bruce can have companionship without being afraid of the danger of emotional vulnerability. She doesn't have the context, she doesn't know Bruce Wayne. She only knows Batman, and she seems pretty starstruck about finally being let on his team.

[eloquentlytired]

the knight — a logan howlett fic

pairing: old! logan howlett x plus size! reader

warnings for this fic: age gap, built up tension, eventual smut, reader is over 20, cheating, timetable is set centuries ago (18th-wise maybe) except rotten mindsets/opinions, fatphobia, the royals suck a$$ but who's surprised, themes of violence and blood

summary: you're of the highest noble class and married off to your land’s prince. during your time in the palace and your struggling effort to fit in, you realize that no one is what they claim to be except one man alone. logan howlett, the king’s right hand and best knight, strips himself off every comfort and sworn oath as he accompanies you through the horror of royalty. in the end, your feelings shift and chaos ensues.

Prologue

There was nothing uncommon about a girl of a noble family being forced to marry a man of an even wealthier better status. Except the damn prince. Your parents were delighted and had arranged everything themselves when the question was asked to them. Not to you.

A lady had no say in her marriage after all, unless she was commonly born.

“Maybe he's nice.” Your maid said as she packed your things for tomorrow’s moving. You'd been living in a castle, a castle of all things, alongside your new husband starting tomorrow.

“Maybe he's the worst.” Your voice barely came out as you sat on your bed, fidgeting with your night dress.

Cassandra, your maid and best friend, sat by your side with a reassuring smile. “Well in that case I will have to whoop him once in a while, won't I?”

She knew you like the back of her hand so it was easy to cast light upon your sour mood and expression.

You both gazed at each other and began laughing as you held her.

“I will miss you. I'll try to visit as soon as I can.” You promised her and Cassandra graced you with her signature loving smile.

“May the gods give you everything you wish for.” And to her words, you prayed the same.

The ride to the castle was not bad, just tiring. You did this travel alongside your father who put on his best facade before the queen and king. It felt surreal, and more so anxious, to stand before the most important people of this land.

You bowed before them just like you were taught, with your shaky hands gripping your dress.

“Let me see you.” The queen cooed while gripping your chin harshly. Your image of her immediately shifted from a fairy to whatever monster may look like her.

“Such a beauty, isn't she?” Your father asked before he was rudely interrupted.

“Now now. Adjustments can be made.” The Queen said in a monotonous voice which made your blood freeze within you.

Adjustments?

You didn't dare move as she continued inspecting you under the silence of her husband the King and your father. Her long, thin fingers moved creepily around your face resembling spider legs.

“You’re a full girl but I have just the solution. I too had to drop the cakes you know.” She laughed, then the King laughed then your father. It was a strained sound coming from him, something that was forced for the whole purpose of pleasing his queen, but it still wounded you inside.

You felt thankful when you were quickly dismissed so that your father would discuss the marriage details with the queen and the king.

Your new maid, who didn't seem to be over eighteen, was the sweetest girl ever. She escorted you to your chambers immediately and began sorting out whatever you'd brought along.

“What is your name?” You asked her and you were sad to see her so startled, almost fearful. Were they treating her badly here?

The girl looked at you and spoke with a stutter.

“Ariadne, my princess.” What a pretty name, you thought.

“Well, Ariadne, it's nice to meet you. And please call me by my name, not a formal title.” The girl seemed to ease up slowly when you introduced yourself and looked at her so kindly, almost motherly.

You spent your afternoon being pampered by servants to an overwhelming point. In the bath, when you brushed your hair, when you clothed yourself, even when you were to paint your face with your personal make-up they would not let you do it alone.

“The queen likes red, princess.” Ariadne whispered in your ear when she saw your confused expression. You didn't bother correcting her when she called you by formality. You were too overwhelmed at that moment.

When the preparations were finally done, you turned to the mirror only to find a reflection... unknown.

“You look marvelous, princess.” The maids around you complimented and did some final adjustments to your red dress and makeup. The dress itself was red all over made of expensive fabric. The skirt was high and bouncy around you and the corset beneath was all but allowing you to breath. The corset’s tightness forced your breasts to be pushed into a higher position — they were evidently exposed because of the dress’ low cleavage.

“Perhaps there's something I could wear over this?” You asked but they all looked at you as if you were crazy.

“Her Majesty chose this for you. Said it's most suitable for a girl like you.”

The reply you received from one of the maids made you wonder. What exactly did that mean? In the back of your mind you knew all too well that she was referring to your body but once again you did not speak.

You were with your father, walking around the palace grounds and getting familiar with the gigantic space that overwhelmed you. Your arm was comfortably hooked around his own as you walked.

“How do you find your new home?” He asked with a grin upon his face, one you didn't want to ruin.

“It’s lovely, father.”

Your lack of effort went unnoticed by him per usual.

The sound of commotion startled both of you, making you stare at each other. You pulled away from your father and walked towards the large windows of the castle, gazing down at the courtyard. And then you saw him.

The prince was obvious amongst the many guards that surrounded him, wearing his distinguished cape and a crown smaller than the king's and queen's. He stood proudly upon his horse, blonde hair and blue eyes shimmering but it wasn't enough to draw your attention.

Your father hurriedly marched by your side and spoke. “That’s your husband to be. The most handsome in this kingdom indeed.”

His words barely registered into your mind.

Your gaze was fixated elsewhere as you stared at the royal guard riding beside the prince; a worn out face, an ashy coloured beard and a proudly puffed out chest. He looked like he'd seen better days or that he'd barely smiled in his whole life but even then you couldn't stop staring.

“Yes. The most handsome.” Was all you could say in response to your father as he held your hand and pulled you away from the window.

The prince turned to his right hand, to his most essential and strongest guard.

“Being a prince is a wonderful thing, wouldn't you say sir Howlett?” The prince asked as he addressed the knight by his side.

Logan nodded in response, his years of service having taught him better than to disagree with the hands that fed him.

“That is correct, my prince.”

His eyes glanced at the young boy — a ruler to be. But Logan knew there was no hope for this land and Kingdom; not if this was their future king.

“But being King is more than wonderful. And I intend to experience that glory with you as my protector.” The way those words came out of the prince's mouth was different — cruel and thirsty. Logan had heard that tone before. From men overwhelmed with power that in the end ended up dead.

“Of course, my prince.”

Something alarmed Logan, like a scratch by the ear.

He snapped his head to the left and gazed at the palace’s high windows. There was no one there but he felt his gaze and presence drawn to whatever that area was; the same area that you had walked by with your father.

As he and the guards parted from the prince to enter the stables, he heard whispers that barely intrigued him.

“The new princess, our future queen, has arrived.” His ears picked up many comments — good and bad — but he paid no mind as he took care of his horse.

“Are you not curious to see her, Logan?” One of his fellows in the royal guard asked while the others replied for him.

“He is the prince’s right hand. He will see whether he likes it or not.” The men laughed but Logan busied himself with cleaning after his horse, scrubbing its brown fur silently.

Another knight interfered while slowly retreating from the stables.

“You better tell us if she's worth it!”

Logan gave him a dirty look before resuming his work quietly.

He was just about done caring for his horse when a servant boy approached him, carrying a paper wrapped package in his arms. The boy seemed flushed and out of breath, signaling that he'd been in a hurry.

“Sir Howlett!” The servant boy called and Logan looked at him while wiping his arms with an old rug.

“Spill it,kid.” He mumbled in a tired tone.

“The prince demands your presence in tonight’s dinner.” Logan paused.

“It is Scott’s shift—”

The servant boy cut him off. “H—He said he'll cut off my head if you decline.”

Yes. Those were the moments he hated, the moments he considered rebellion or brutality. But he also knew better than to have an entire royal army chase after him on the crown’s behalf.

“I'll do it. Go home,kid.” He ignored the youthful tears and the repeated thank yous of the servant boy as he ran away. Logan knew how it was, how it felt. He wouldn't say you're welcome for not taking away a life; all of that process was fucked up.

The time for dinner was nearing as Logan dressed himself with a newer, cleaner armor. One that was requested by the prince himself.

Logan stared in the mirror of the confined room he lived in. His reflection was someone unknown.

“Let’s do this.” He whispered gruffly as his hands instinctively wrapped around his sword.

He could feel it in his old bones and the fluttering sensation in his gut. Tonight would make everything shift.

author’s note: hi lovelies. this is so self indulgent ngl 😭 I have somehow already written the first chapter too but I'll post it tomorrow. just felt really inspired all of a sudden. also noticed the reflection parallels with the reader and Logan? I stan! hope u enjoyed and if u like this pls leave a like, reblog and comment!🩷

[fuji-sen]

the 'evil imposter' just wants to be a baker!

Prologue: The Foodie turned Imposter?!

Part 3: Mint Tea

[ part 2 ] || [ masterlist ] || [ part 4 ]

divider is made by @/saradika-graphics

After that bone chilling scream, what happened next was a blur. Vaguely you remembering forcing yourself to run to the windows, crashing through it as you landed outside and behind the headquarters of the knights of Favonious, you stared in fear when a purple hue shone above you, Lisa was ready to hurt you again with her electro powers but-

Thawk!

A flying chair was hurled towards her and hit her straight in the face! you would have laughed but the pain from being electrocuted made you cry, your body was shaking from the immense pain, Lisa was powerful despite what you saw in-game.

The next thing you knew, you heard footsteps and yells from approaching knights, you had nowhere else to go but. .

As Jean ran to the window, the last thing she saw was you, meeting your gaze for a moment and then. . you hurled yourself off the wall and into the lake that had surrounded mondstadt.

The winds that Stormterror brew was stronger than before, as if he was irked more than usual. Perhaps that was the cause of the presence of the imposter, someone so villainous to even try and imitate the divine. .

Still. .

terrified [color] eyes and cold gray blue eyes met only for a moment, the acting grandmaster faltered, hesitated for a moment to yell out orders when she felt something pierce her heart.

she clenched the fabric just above her chest, the pain lessened but it still lingered. . .

𓂃 ོ𓂃𓅩𓂃 ོ𓂃

Burning,

then drowning,

and last, darkness.

Those were the last things your body experienced before finally giving in.

Afraid, Sadness, Confusion. . betrayal.

Those were the feelings that haunted you in your final waking moments.

As you were unconscious, you were susceptible to the nightmares that formed from your experience, like you were trapped in that same scenario in that damned office.

Labelled as an imposter, your life almost being taken, and being struck by powerful lightning, or rather electro. The feeling of being struck by such. . otherworldly power, it felt like being burned and drowning all together at the same time. It left your muscles sore and stiff, you were sure the librarian's attacks would leave scars on your skin.

Stirring awake you sat up, you hadn't been unconscious for long as your clothes were still very much wet. In the struggle of fighting the waters to not drown, your cinnamoroll slippers were lost, perhaps now at the bottom of the lake. The only thing you had left was the same sword Jean pointed at you, the same sword she had almost used to take your life.

A part of you wanted to throw it, discard it some place she'd never be able to find. But you couldn't, not out of guilty but out of exhaustion and the need for a weapon to defend yourself with.

The winds caressed you gently, letting the tears that left your eyes be carried away by the wind.

What hope and respect you had for those characters seemed to slowly die, your comfort game now felt like a prison, it felt like you were in a survival game with all these odds stacked against you.

What crime did you commit to warrant your life to be targeted and taken away from your grasps?

You stomach growled, ah. . "I'm hungry. ." you hugged yourself as you sobbed, the overwhelming feelings you tried to hold back and bottle up were now surging from the broken damn that was your hope. That same hope that was shattered by the knights of favonious, by Jean and Lisa. You wondered if the other characters will treat you in a similar fashion, or maybe even worse.

You ended up falling asleep once again, from the hunger and exhaustion you felt from your very first day in the world you once felt comfort from. . what a pity.

In your tired and frantic state you had never noticed you were in the ruins of Stormterror's lair. The said dragon returning from who knows where, landing near your sleeping form, his neck craned as his head neared your body.

Eyes blinking every so often as he sniffed, although it was faint he could smell it. The smell of warmth and compassion the diving creator had for its land, weak, but it was there. And for Dvalin that was enough, he opened his mouth, and from it dozens of fish fell from it, forming a pile right beside you.

Your nose scrunched up at the smell of fish but you did not wake.

Satisfied Dvalin rested near you, head facing in your direction.

However numerous days and nights had past and you did not stir or wake from your slumber, Dvalin who had already been in a bad state as it is, lost control of his emotions and flew in a fury towards Mondstadt.

For they were the ones that caused you to fallen into such a depressive state. It was well with-in his rights as the dragon of the east to protect your honor as the [redacted]. So please, wake up, if you do not, you may end up dying once more. . .

𓂃 ོ𓂃𓅩𓂃 ོ𓂃

When you awoke Dvalin was gone, in the distance you could see the storms brewing from a far, in the direction you assumed that lead to mondstadt.

"Why. . why is there a pile of rotting fish beside me?" you wondered, fingers pinching your nose at the disgusting scent. The fish seemed to have been out for a few days already hence it was in a very undesirable state.

"There's not even a body of water in this ruins. ." you realized when the fish were salt water fish of all things. "God. ." your hand reached to brush through your greasy looks "how did I get here?" you wondered aloud, and of course nobody answered. You'd be more scared if there was.

Your stomach painfully twisted, your body was reaching it's breaking point due to the hunger. Eying the fish, you decided it was best to not risk it and so you began your descent from the ruins of the Dragon's lair. It was harder said than done due to the wind barriers and the lack of a wind glider meant that you had to climb down the infrastracture.

Which was a pain considering you woke up at the very top.

You were only halfway there when you stared at your bruised hand, [color] eyes squint at the shimmering liquid in your hands, barely noticeably, was it glitter? it was hard to tell with all the sweat that accumulated from your rock climbing.

You wiped your hands on your pajamas, as something caught your eyes from your peripheral vision. A statue of the seven. .

Cautiously you walked towards it, hands outstretched, hovering but never quite touching. What if touching it alerts Venti of your presence. . was he an ally or a foe. .

your arm fell limp on your side, you couldn't risk your life.

So in the end you turned your back to the statue as you began walking to a pillar you could easily climb done from. Your hands were aching, part of you screamed to touch the Statue so it could heal you if possible but you ignored it, choosing to endure it.

"Ah!-" you screamed as your grip loosened and you began to fall. You were headed towards the wind barriers, you shut your eyes tight as you brought your arms up to protect you face, fearing the worse!

Instead of getting cut by the fierce winds or being pushed back like what you had seen in game, all you felt was a gentle embrace. You opened your eyes slightly to find yourself floating down to the ground.

". . ."

without even questioning it, you dusted off your clothes and smile in relief. "Thank you to whoever is looking out for me. ." And, not wanting to waste anymore time, you looked around to scavenge for some ingredients, there you found an abandoned cooking station which you made sure to remember its location as you tried to find ingredients otherwise, what was the point of a cooking station if you didn't have any things to cook with?

you found some old utensils, mint, a pot, and calla lilies. Finding nothing else and being unable to kill birds for fowl and the fishes had been scared away you went back to the abandoned cooking station. You filled the pot with water from a nearby pond and boiled some mint in the water (the fire being provided by a nearby fire slime that had been nothing but accommodating for her strangely enough- and stuck beside you).

Sitting pretty on a crate you patiently waited for the tea to brew.

meanwhile. . .

"So there is an imposter that has defiled the lands. I see, this is very serious." Amber nodded in understanding as she, Kaeya and the traveller, Aether and their companion Paimon, had returned to the city after dealing with the temples that had been powering Dvalin.

Jean continued "Yes, although her status is unknown we must make sure to see to it with our very own eyes that the imposter has been dealt with." The blond haired traveller knew that 'dealth with' meant 'killed.' He felt a shiver, was Jean always this. . cruel? merciless?

"This will take precedence above all else. So Stormterror will have to wait." The acting grandmaster decided with shocked him.

Aether looked confused at the situation, an imposter? a creator? as far as he knew, this was a case of identity theft, did that constitute being killed on sight in this land? also, how was that more important than the crazy dragon that had been terrorizing the city for months?

Someone make it make sense for him.

Seeing his confused looks, Kaeya, who had been silent up until now, quietly explained to him the situation.

"In Teyvat, there is a being higher than the seven Archons. They are the divine creator. The origin of everything in this world, it is through them we exist, and it is to them we return in death." he explained in simpler terms.

Ah so the ultimate God, wait. . was that the unknown God that trapped him here?! and took his sister?!

"What do they look like?" Aether asked, trying to remain calm. It seemed that disrespecting this creator would end with him getting killed so he tried to act as neutral as possible. However if the divine creator was the one responsible for him being separated from his sister. .

not even the knights of Favonious will stop him.

"Let me show you," the captain offered "there is a statue made in the exact likeness of her excellency, or so I heard." he chuckled and guided him and Paimon out of the office. As he exited last, he glanced at the three that remained at the office, scheming and planning of ways to catch the so called imposter.

The Statue was located in an intimate area, it was smaller than the Anemo Archon's statue which towered over all in the city, just in front of the cathedral but the statue of the Great Creator made up for what it lacked in size with quality.

Aether stared at the statue that was erected behind the cathedral, he studied the well defined features of the statue and breath a sigh of relief upon realizing that the Great Creator and the Unknown God were not the same person.

And yet, "she seems. . familiar. I know this person." he frowned, facing morphing into a look of hopelessness and confusion until his eyes lit up with recognition. "Care to share traveler?" Kaeya patiently waited for his response.

"I saw her. When I was falling to Teyvat, I saw and heard her voice. ." Aether placed a hand on his chest, closing his eyes as he reminisced that distant memory. "She talked to me with so much sweetness and warmth. When I was in the beach, first waking up alone, I felt a presence, I'm sure it's her."

*He winced, clutching his head as unfamiliar yet familiar at the same time, memories flooded his mind. Memories of soaring through the skies, of falling to the ravenous oceans and being caught by a green haired warrior. . the feeling of being struck by lightning, holding someone in his arms as they drew his final breath-

"Aether!" Paimon floated beside her partner, small hands trying their best to comfort the traveller by rubbing his back or patting it. "are you okay?"

He did not answer, brows scrunching up as he panted, 'what was that?'

"I see." Kaeya's eyes shifted to the statue made in the Creator's image, he paid no heed to the fact that the traveler fell to the floor in a state of disarray.

"Why. . " Aether stood up, not entirely offended at the man's lack of care "why did they label them quickly as an imposter though? Wouldn't they first think it is the creator?" It was a reasonable point to brought up.

The blue haired knight hummed "it is because of an old prophecy that foretold the end of Teyvat, when an evil being that wears the face of the creator descends to bring chaos and trick the loyal followers of the Great Mother."

"How are you sure the prophecy is real or it is fulfilling though. . I mean, not all prohpecies are fulfilled. ." Paimon cautiously asked with a frown.

"True" the cavalier captain chuckled, yet it was humorless "but the fact that they showed up in Mondstadt, during the Stormterror's crisis. . when the city and its people is in a state of unrest. You can see why it led to this conclusion, right?"

Aether frowned at that, "it could have just been a coincidence." he defended.

"It could be, but it doesn't change how uneasy the people feel, they'll seek answers to why this whole situation is happening, for them it is easier to blame an 'imposter' of the divine Creator, which is an omen of destruction and misfortune."

Meanwhile you were sipping the improvised mint tea straight from the pot. It tasted spicy and bitter, a weird description but it worked well enough as you felt the burden on your stomach ease up. **

"This is going to be hard."

The Pyro slime that stayed by your side seemed to agree as it sorta nodded.

*Although when you were playing genshin impact, you progressed pass mondstadt and other nations, but upon returning to teyvat or getting 'isekai'd' time seemed to turn back to the starting point of the game. The memories of the residents of Teyvat were changed, yet the vision holders could remember your presence, your gifts (artifacts, weapons) and the strength you gave them. There will be characters who remember though, or partly so. **Funfact: there is a type of mint that specifically helps with staving off / delaying hunger (peppermint oil iirc), [name] applied that knowledge in this chapter because she couldn't find anything to fully help with her hunger.

also Teyvat is trying to keep you alive, hence when you were about to hit the wind barriers in stormterror's ruins you were able to pass through it without it hurting you and it (the wind barriers) helped break your fall.

Please pet Dvalin, and tell him he's a good boy (and don't mention how the fish had rot and you ended up disposing it. .)

taglist: @fantasyhopperhea

[larluce]

Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace Thank you so much for all your love ❤️. As someone who just entered the fandom and whose native language is not english it means a lot 🤧. Prepare yourselfs though, this is going to get dark.

LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 , PART 9 (You're here) , PART 10

A little more of "Valiant"

Despite Gaius words and Arthur's protests, Merlin starts his duties as Arthur's manservant just a week after been stabbed in the back. Not that he wants to be careless with himself, but the tournament is coming, which means Valiant will arrive soon. And his magic is finally working properly so he needs to be there for Arthur when it happens. Arthur, of course, reduce his duties significtanly so Merlin doesn't do a lot of effort while still recovering from his wound, but he lets him attend him in the tournament, which is all Merlin needs right now.

Merlin: (putting Arthur his armor on perfectly)

Arthur: You're quite good at this (thinking, confused) How weird, he was disastrous at the beginning.

Merlin: Gwen gave me dressing armor classes when I was still in bed and taugh me about your silly tournament etiquette (thinking) Is not a lie, it was very nice of her, but I need to be more careful, I'm not suppossed to be this competent yet.

Arthur: (looks at Merlin intendly and points the collar of his armor) This needs adjustment.

Merlin: Oh, sorry. (adjusts the collar, so his hands are between Arthur's shoulder and neck and his face is close to Arthur's)

Arthur: Now is too tight, lose it a bit.

Merlin: (nervous due to the closeness and the intensity of Arthur's eyes) Like... like this?

Arthur: (smiles mischievously) Just like that (points the cape with his head) The cape.

Merlin: The cape! Right, the cape. (goes to get the cape and begins to put it on quickly)

Arthur: There's no rush, Merlin. Take your time.

Merlin: (gets lost in Arthur's eyes as he finishes to put the cape on, thinking) What... what is happening? 😳😳 (snaps out of it) Your sword! I almost forgot your sword!(goes to get the sword)

Arthur: (sighs, thinking) Damn Guinevere and her extra classes.

Time skip. As expected, Valiant's snakes are exposed and Arthur kills them and gets Valiant arrested. Since they didn't try to expose him before, Valiant didn't have the need to send his snakes to kill Sir Ewan. So he is alive to be at the trial as a witness too. Before he can be burned at the stake though he's found death in his cell. Apparently he killed himself with a hidden knife.

Uther: Such a coward. "Valiant" was to big of a name for someone like him.

Arthur: Totally.

Uther: But I'm curious. How did you know the shield was echanted?

Arthur: I didn't know.

Uther: Really? Because you didn't seem surprise when the snakes came out of the shield. In fact, it seemed you were prepared for it.

Arthur: I didn't know for sure, but I had my suspicions. He was a knight, I couldn't well accuse him without being sure, much less without proof. Don't you think, father?

Uther: (thinks for a moment) You're right. Well done Arthur. After the display you did at the feast for that boy and then asking me to make him your servant I got a little worried. But I must say that, despite that slip in your behaviour, you've been acting more mature and with more wisdom. Almost like-

Arthur: A king?

Uther: (frowns) I think is too soon to say that. Let's say like a proper heir to the throne. You're dismissed.

Arthur: (starts leaving, but turns around) Father... I need to tell you something... about my nightmares.

Uther: Is this something like Morgana's? You need Gaius to prescribe you her concoctions?

Arthur: No, I don't think is the same. I'm not sure they're actually nightmares, really. I... I saw my mother.

Uther: What?!

Arthur: I don't think is really her, I never saw her. But she's beautiful there, blond hair, blue eyes like mine, and she had the most tender smile. (smiles sadly) She always tells me that she loves me and she would've given her life for me all over again (sombers his expression) But then she tells me the most horrendous things. Like you used magic to get her pregnant and that you were reponsable for her death.

Uther: ...

Arthur: But that's not true, right? It can't be true. You would never do something like that and then lie about it, wouldn't you?

Uther: (forcing a smile) Of course not, I loved your mother with my life. There isn't a day that passes that I don't wish that she was still alive. I could never have done anything to hurt her, much less with something as corrupted as magic.

Arthur: (thinking) Not knownly, not on purpose, now I understand that.(smiles and says) I can see it. You would do anything to get her back.

Uther: Exactly. Don't pay attention to those nightmares. If it keeps going I'll tell Gaius to prescribe you something.

Arthur: Thank you, father. I'm sorry for bothering you with this. It's just... Sometimes I wish I had met her. Just once.

Uther: (smiles, sadly) Me too, son. Me too.

Time skip. Arthur goes to see the dragon under the castle.

Kilgharrah: The Once and Future King. What a surprise.

Arthur: Don't give me that shit. It won't work on me.

Kilgharrah: (analysing Arthur) What is this? Your body is young but your mind is old. I don't know what you did, but magic must be involved.

Arthur: I just came to tell you two things. One, leave Merlin alone. I know you want to manipulate him into setting you free so you can get your revenge on my father.

Kilgharrah: He hasn't been answering my calls. But still, why would I listen to a Pendragon?

Arthur: Because I know were the last dragon egg is.

Kilgaharrah: (surprised) There's a dragon egg?

Arthur: For now it's safe. But I won't tell you where it is if you desobey me.

Kilgharrah: What use is this information for me if I'm still trap here?

Arthur: That's the second thing. I need three dragon scales. If you give them to me, I promise to set you free.

Kilgharrah: Why should I believe your word? You just told me you don't want Merlin to set me free.

Arthur: No, I told you I didn't want you to mess with his head just to get what you want. I know he'll come eventually. Just help him with whatever he needs.

Kilgharrah: Lets say I believe you. You expect me to not take my revenge once I'm free?

Arthur: In fact, I'm counting on it.

Kilgahrrah: ... I don't think I follow.

Arthur: You're not wrong. Magic was involved for me to be here. Twice, if you count the way I was born. Three dragon scales, the blood of 300 hundred man and the corpse of a king were needed for me to arrive, but I need to do the same sacrifice to stay.

Kilgharrah: (in realization) The forbidden ritual of the ancient Kings. Interesting.

Arthur: Do we have a deal?

Kilgharrah: It depends. Which king are you planning to sacrifice?

Arthur: I think you already know.

Kilgharrah: (smiles evilly) Very well, anything else you want to ask me?

Arthur: (with a lump in his throat) When I... when you're finally free... Avoid women and children as much as you can, please. And don't just kill left and right. I just need... (cuts himself)

Kilgharrah: 300 hundred deaths. I get it.

Arthur: (pauses) No... 299.

...

I WARNED YOU! It was kind of planned from the beginning. But I want to read you. Do you think it makes sense for Arthur to turn out like this? 👀

[penny00dreadful]

STWG Prompt: Chill/Give In

Double prompt day! A happy whoopsident!

“Just talk to him. Be chill about it.”

“‘Be chill about it?’ Seriously, Robin?” Steve bit at the skin on the side of his thumb but pulled his hand away when all he could taste was kerosene.

He looked out across the field towards Dustin and Eddie, chasing after each other, playing at battle with their shields.

He could feel his heartbeat in his sides through the bites and on his back and arms where he was dragged over the lake bed but that pain didn’t compare to the near constant fucking heartache he felt every time he looked in Eddie’s direction.

“Steve-”

“Didn’t you just give me a whole speech about how our love lives don’t matter right now because the world might be ending?” He cut her off, a little petulant.

“No,” Robin said firmly. “I said my love life. Because there’s nothing there, there’s no hope. But you-”

“You don’t know that, Vickie could-”

“Steve.” Robin said, almost as if she was begging him. “Please. Go talk to him.”

He had to admit defeat at that, nodding to her and trying not to feel too much about her small sigh of relief as he stood and started to make his way across the field.

Eddie and Dustin were posturing to each other, acting out their victorious return, knights coming back from battle successful.

They both had matching smiles on their faces, those dimples cutting into Eddie’s cheeks and his eyes bright and alight with laughter.

When Steve came to a stop in front of them, arms folded over his chest and they both turned to him, Eddie’s bright eyes turned hard and his mouth fell into a frown while Dustin just looked up at Steve expectantly, still smiling.

“Can I talk to you?” Steve asked, sparing a glance at Eddie’s face and nearly withering under the glare he was sent.

“Can’t imagine we’d have anything to talk about, Harrington.” Eddie turned his back and crouched down, picking back up the hammer and starting to whack nails through the shield again, with far too much force.

“Eddie.” Steve tightened his arms around himself. “Please?”

There was silence between the three of them for a breath, Dustin’s eyes darting from one to the other before Eddie slammed his hammer back down and straightened up.

“Have it your way, then. You always do.” Without a backwards glance, he stormed off towards the tree line, leaving Steve behind feeling like he’d been punched in the gut.

“What’s going on?” Dustin asked, watching Eddie’s retreating form. “He looks like he might try to kill you.”

“If he does, I’d probably deserve it.” He patted Dustin on the shoulder as he passed, following Eddie into the forest.

Steve found him, still scowling, leaned up against a tree a few feet in, trying to blow up Steve’s head with his mind.

Steve could only stare at him for a moment, trying to figure out how to start, not daring to close the distance in between them.

“Talk.” Eddie snapped.

He opened and closed his mouth, eventually figuring it was best to start with his apology.

“I’m sorry.”

He was met with an eye roll and a scoff.

“Oh, now you’re sorry?”

“Yes.” He answered back, firm and resolute. “I’m sorry. I’ve always been sorry.”

“Right.” Eddie nodded, condescending. “And what part are you sorry for, exactly? Or are you just sorry it even happened in the first place?”

Steve huffed to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying his best to keep his emotions from cresting. He’d been so raw for weeks and it was so much worse now, having to face it head on.

“I never wanted to hurt you-”

“Hurt me? Hurt me?” Eddie exploded, out of nowhere. “You didn’t fucking hurt me, Harrington. You eviscerated me. You tore my fucking heart out, and what’s worse, is that you knew you were doing it. I could see it on your face! I can see it right now!” He took a few steps forward, jabbing Steve hard in the chest. “You didn’t even give me a god damned reason and now, because the world is about to fucking end you decide you need to get me off your conscience?”

“No! That’s not what this is-”

“Then what is it!”

“It’s this whole fucking situation!” Steve threw his hands out to the side. “It’s this fucking apocalypse and people fucking dying and getting hurt and I couldn’t have it be you! Not you. Never you.”

“Never me, never me. Story of my fucking life. What could never be me, huh?” He snapped. “Could never be permanent? Could never be what you need? Can’t be your fucking breeder for your all American dream, is that it? No? Then make some fucking sense, would you?”

“It’s not that, jesus, did you listen to anything I said the whole fucking time we were- It wasn’t about my white picket fence fucking dream that I would still be happy to have with you-!” He shook his head, he was getting off track. “I always knew this supernatural shit wasn’t over, Eddie. They said it was done. Hopper died, the Byers moved themselves and El away, they said it was done. But never fucking is. And I couldn’t stand the idea of you being hurt by it.”

Eddie paused, his big brown eyes darting between Steve’s own, searching, gears in his head clicking, until Steve could see the moment the puzzle pieces slotted into place.

“This is why you went missing for a couple of days? This is why you turned up at the trailer looking like you’d been fucking tortured after the mall burned down?”

“Yeah,” Steve sighed, the fight leaving him. “And I knew it was going to happen again. I’d already gotten Robin and Erica mixed up in the shit, I couldn’t have it happen to you too.”

Eddie was no longer glaring at him but he didn’t look happy either. 

He looked disappointed. 

Disappointed and hurt.

“So, what?” He asked, taking a step back and crossing his arms. “Instead of talking to me about it, you just decided to break up with me?”

“Eddie,” He reached out to him but Eddie took a step back. Steve felt like he’d been stabbed in the heart all over again. “I didn’t ‘just decide’ anything-”

“But you did! You did! You decided for me. You made the decision for me. You didn’t even give me the option- You didn’t tell me what was going on-”

“I couldn’t! There were NDA’s and government agents-”

“Oh fuck off, Steve.” Eddie snapped. “Like you ever gave a shit about what some suits said to you.”

“This is different, this is getting black bagged and never seen again type of shit-”

“Look me in the eye. You look me in the eye and tell me you’ve never broken one of those NDA’s or told one of those agents to shove it up their ass. Go on.” Eddie stepped closer again but it definitely wasn’t an invitation to reach out, it was a challenge. 

Steve looked Eddie in the eye. 

He could lie. 

He could say he always followed those NDA’s to the letter. 

He could say he had never bitched out those agents along with Joyce to declare Hopper a hero and not brush him under the rug like they tried to do with Barb, making him some crooked, power hungry, drugged up cop who ‘went missing’ after he was last seen standing at the quarry’s edge. 

But he couldn’t. 

He couldn’t lie to Eddie, not anymore.

Eddie wilted. His eyes went from hard and defiant down to soft, sad and resigned.

“I thought so.” He said, quiet and vindicated, though he sounded the opposite of happy to be so. “You made decisions for me Steve. You took my agency away. No one gets to do that. Not my father, not Wayne and not you.”

“Eddie.” He said, his voice cracking. “I just wanted to keep you safe.”

“Well look around you, sweetheart.” He replied, opening his arms and gesturing around. “What a great job you did.”

Eddie shoulder-checked Steve hard as he passed, making his way out of the forest without looking back.

When Steve finally reappeared at Robin’s side, his eyes red and puffy and his throat raw, she silently took his hand and tugged him in close.

“Nancy.” Steve snapped, grabbing Dustin by the shoulders and wrenching him away. “Get him out of here.”

He threw Dustin into her arms, not letting himself care about the pain he’d probably just caused, he couldn’t. He couldn’t lose focus, there was too much blood and he had to do something. 

“Robin, with me.” But he needn’t have even said it. Robin was already kneeling down by Eddie’s side, checking his breathing, looking for a pulse while Steve started to rifle through the pockets and pouches on his War Zone vest, pulling out bandages and gauze.

They wouldn’t do much, but hopefully it would be enough until they could get him somewhere safer. 

Safer and cleaner.

It had to be enough for that.

It had to be.

Steve couldn’t lose him. 

He handed some of the bandages off to Robin who had moved down to work on his stomach while Steve wrapped up his neck.

“Baby?” Steve couldn’t help but put a hand on Eddie’s cheek. 

His uninjured cheek, because jesus christ the bats practically bit the whole way through on the other side.

“Eddie, can you hear me? Please, baby?” He begged. “Come back to me.”

His heart was in his throat and he was in the middle of trying to shove it the fuck back down because he needed to concentrate when Eddie’s eyes fluttered.

“S’vie?”

“Yeah.” Steve exhaled in relief. “Yeah, it’s me baby. I’m here, you’re gonna be okay.”

Eddie didn’t say anything else, just groaned in pain when Robin cruelly tightened the bandages, but it had to be done.

His eyes fluttered closed again and he didn’t move, save for the small rise and fall of his chest that Steve watched like a fucking hawk.

When he positioned himself in between Eddie’s legs with his back to him, gesturing for Robin to lift Eddie up so he could drag his arms over his shoulders, she paused for a second, giving him a look.

“Your injuries-”

“Birdie, please.”

“Okay, okay. Shit.”

She grabbed Eddie tight under the arms and though she struggled with his dead weight, eventually the two of them were able to manoeuvre him in such a way so he was draped over Steve’s back.

He would have expected a whimper of pain or a shout or something but Eddie was deathly silent, his breaths coming in short sharp rattles.

“Go ahead,” He said to Robin, starting the long and painful trek back to the trailer. “Get the portal ready for me.”

She didn’t hesitate, just nodded and ran.

Steve tightened his arms and grit his teeth.

One foot in front of the other.

“Don't do this to me, baby.” He panted. “Don't go.”

Each step was like a fresh knife through his sides, the raw wounds on his back screamed at him and his vision was starting to swim but he refused, he refused to give in.

There was a small moan in his ear and he could feel Eddie’s eyelashes brushing against his neck as he blinked his eyes open.

“What day s'it?” He slurred, breath hot against Steve’s skin.

“It's-” Steve inhaled, feeling like he couldn’t get a proper lungful, “Thursday.”

“T'm'rrow's date night.” His voice was so quiet, so thin that Steve could barely hear it. He wanted to tell him to stop talking, to conserve his energy but at the same time, talking meant alive.

“Yeah.” Steve huffed. “Yeah, it is, so just-” He stumbled, nearly falling to his knees but managing to catch himself, “Just hang on a little-”

“Dn't know if… if 'm gonna make it.”

“Don't-” he breathed, each pass of air through his lungs getting more and more painful. He was just at the trailer steps now and he could see a figure coming back through the portal from behind the door.

“M'sorry.”

“Eds, don't apologise.” He tried to soothe, everything within him screaming as he lifted a leg to go up the steps. He’d never make it. He’d never be able to carry him up, but he had to try. “Just stay awake, please baby. Please.”

Eddie didn’t respond, but there were still those small puffs of air against Steve’s neck.

The trailer door burst open, Robin and Nancy rushing down the steps to take Eddie’s weight. 

For one delirious moment he held on tighter, he didn’t want to let him go, didn’t want him out of his sight, but he came to his senses quickly, letting the girls drag him up the stairs.

Robin looked back at him torn but Steve waved her off.

“Get him through, Birdie!” He said from his position, holding himself up on the bannister.

Robin glared at him. “God fucking damn it, Steve!” 

But she turned and started to drag Eddie inside because she was his fucking soulmate, god damn it and best fucking friend.

The ascent up and into the trailer was slow. 

By the time he made it to the makeshift stairs they had created up to the portal, the girls and Eddie were already through and Robin was on her way back to him. 

“Evie, come on!” Robin begged, tears in her eyes, reaching a hand out to him.

His vision was starting to darken around the edges, but he was able to grasp at her fingers.

With one last push, he felt gravity shift around him and then everything went black.

“-ere are you going?! We need… hospital!”

“My mom… nurse training until-”

“-some fucking suburban housewife-”

“-don’t know shit-!”

“-innocent-”

“Don’t let your father-”

When Steve blinked his eyes open, he was in the last place he expected to be, back in the Wheelers basement, lying on a bundle of blankets on the ground, Robin curled up next to him asleep and Karen Wheeler’s pink pumps disappearing up the stairs.

He was right next to the couch and looking up, he saw an arm hanging over the side, a familiar spattering of bats inked down his forearm and a messy shock of brown curls just barely visible.

He could already feel consciousness leaving him again, but with the last of his strength he lifted his own arm up, grasping Eddie’s hand in his and squeezing.

All of the tension, apprehension, fear, heartbreak and grief left his body when he felt Eddie squeeze back.

So this fic (because it turned into a fucking oneshot) is actually a bit of background I had imagined for an upcoming future fic that I had never planned to write, but was in my head for later context for the story. Eventually, once that fic has been uploaded (it will be, it's one of my 1st Year Anniversary Event fics), I will upload this lil oneshot to AO3 seperately.

[dutybcrne]

Dawn Winery Head!Kae during Luc’s absence make brain go brr

[impactedfates]

are we gonna get argenti hcs anytime soon 😍😍 lmk lil bro

★ A/N: Argenti, my bby, my everything. My husband <33 I have a good few HCs of him so here's a list :>

☆ Genre/Trope: Fluff

★ Format: HeadCannons

☆ Warnings: Slight spoilers for Argentis companion quest

★ Extra: Most are romantic HCs // I love this man smsm // Mainly romantic HCs

Definitely compliments you a ton, like he knows exactly what to say to make you feel good about yourself and how to make you feel loved. However if you do the same back, although he thanks you. Deep down he's a flustered mess.

He's so devoted to Idrila that I feel he's not one to easily be swayed to fall for someone, so when he DOES. You know damn well he's deep in love.

He'll do the classical gentlemanly things like hold open the door for you, pull out a chair for you, kiss your hand. And if you want to be held? He'll do it.

Writes you poetry, and it's the most sickly sweet thing ever, you'd almost want to cringe in embarrassment but at the same time the words written on the page are so cute you likely can't help but find it endearing.

If perhaps you stay on the one planet, and not adventure with him on the 'One and Only' expect at least weekly visits and letters sent to you written in gold ink <33 He wants to show you he's okay and well and wants to check on you as well.

If you do go with him however, then he'll be extremely happy to have the love of his life join him on his search for Idrila - he'll be the one steering the ship, however he is more then happy to have you in the same room as he drives.

We know he's not selfish, how he's willing to risk his life to save just about anyone no matter what, no matter how long he's known them. And every time he comes out safe, he seeks you out to ensure he's safe and sound. (He will NOT allow you to join him in these situations - He's okay with himself getting hurt but will NEVER let you get hurt, aeons forbid)

So gentle and so delicate. Even in arguments which you'll inevitably have. No matter what it is, even if it's about his devotion to Idrila and how he still searches. He'll be so gentle and soft spoken, will never raise his voice at you. He'll always listen to your side and calmly explain his and in the end, the arguments always end on good terms <33

Love languages are so many. Like, I think he shows love in all the 5. As said, he's good at complimenting you and reassuring you (Words of Affirmation)

He's a knight so ofc he'll do things for you, like get you a blanket if you perhaps fell asleep at a desk or make you tea (Acts of Service)

He loves spending time with you, I mean, he holds you to the same regard as he does Idrila - he wants to be with you as much as he can (Quality Time)

Anytime he leaves to do something on a planet, even if you come with. You bet you're gonna have something you eyed with admiration even once in your hands or that you mentioned liking to have (Gift Giving)

He would absolutely love cuddling and holding you. And he's more then happy to kiss you anywhere you want, just say the word. (Physical Touch)

In the end, whichever you enjoy the most/love receiving the most will be the one he does more often if he knows - talking about love languages, I think he enjoys receiving Quality Time and Acts of Service

VERY supportive of your talents, if you like drawing? He's hanging each one on a wall. You like writing? Great! He could use a bed time story, singing? He'll listen to you for as long as he can.

He'll let you style his hair or just run your fingers through it if it calms you down, just try not to tug it if he's steering the ship. He needs to concentrate properly!

You wanna cuddle? You got it! His body is like a human radiator. Is it a hot day? Boom, he's like your own large freezer that you can cuddle. It's a cold day? Human heater, and he's more then happy to help you cool down or heat up.

Sometimes, if he's feeling tired or anything and is just sitting down to rest. He likes staring at you, lovingly and if you catch his eye and smile at him? A e o n s it's like he fell in love all over again. You're able to make his tiredness seemingly go away.

Marriage isn't a thought that comes to him, it's not that he doesn't want to but he wishes to find Idrila first before that. It's a big step in your relationship after all - however if years go on and you two are still happily dating but he still hasn't found the goddess? He might consider marrying you if you wish.

I feel like he paints, is he good? Maybe not, but you'll find a collection of paintings that's just you or you and him that he keeps safe. He will not loose those.

Very happy he came home. I also have his lightcone!! He did nearly 3 million ult rjpgdnwrb (w/o LC. I didn't have it at the time of that dmg)

He is my everything, my bby, I'd do anything for him <;33

[metalhoops]

The place was Chicago. The year was 1990. 

It was early enough into the year that the term ‘1990′ still sounded space aged. It’d been the 80s for as long as Eddie cared to remember. It was late enough in the year that everyone kept telling him winter was over. Nevertheless, he wore the leather jacket he’d ‘borrowed’ from his ex-boyfriend. Spring in Chicago was worse than a million L.A. winters. 

Eddie hated California on principle, but his record label was in Burbank. Despite the band being one of the biggest rising stars in the metal scene, he didn’t have room to get cocky. He’d spent the break between tours last year with his aforementioned ex-boyfriend in his New York apartment. 

The place had been small enough that smoking with the windows open felt like a hotbox session. There was one window in the apartment. It was in the bathroom and only opened an inch if you could get it to open at all. It wasn’t the rockstar life he’d fantasised about back in high school, but he was getting by. 

So how the hell did he end up in Chicago? He was getting there. 

As the filmmaker he’d slept with in Toronto had told him, opening in media res was the best way to hold an audience's attention. Was that what Eddie was doing? Trying to retell the shitshow of his life back to himself? Trying to make sense of it all, make it climax to something meaningful? Maybe. 

Eddie had gotten into the habit of keeping a journal, mostly for lyrics. The band was meant to be recording their third full-length studio album in a matter of months and Eddie only had three songs that were worth anything. To make matters worse, the other two had been concept albums. 

Corroded Coffin’s first and sophomore albums had been different enough that the band hadn’t been boxed into anything. Yes, they were a metal band, but they got their fair share of punks, goths and even a handful of yuppies that’d shown up to their gigs in the past. Hell, their opening act had been a grunge band. It sounded pretentious as fuck, but Eddie wasn’t afraid to transcend genres. The metal scene was changing. They had to learn to change with it.

The nail in his goddamn Corroded Coffin was that the band were known for their concept albums. Their first album Knightmare was a D&D-inspired thrash, metal album. Think Ritchie Blackmore's Rainbow, with a few more homoerotic undertones. Their next album, Dream Dimension was more sci-fi leaning. It told the story of an unnamed group of kids who’d stumbled into another dimension. It was a little more glam metal. Some of the B-sides like ‘My Year’ and ‘Lakeside Interlude’ had been downright shoegaze. One magazine had likened the story to Dream Warriors, which Eddie thought was fitting. 

It wasn’t like Eddie didn’t have ideas for the next album. That was the problem. Eddie did have an idea. He just couldn’t write the damn thing. It was meant to be his magnum opus, the third album that’d stand on its own but also interconnect with the other two. 

He’d call it Daydream. It followed the story of a white-collar guy living the perfect nuclear family life, complete with a white picket fence and a Malibu Barbie, dream house. The thing was, the dude was miserable. He’d spend all his free time daydreaming about adventure and forgotten realms. 

The kicker was halfway through the album the listener would realise the guy was the titular knight from Knightmare. His perfect suburban life was turned upside down when his kid disappeared à la portal to another dimension. It’d be perfect. All Eddie had to do is write it, and that was the damn thing. He couldn’t.  

All his albums were about something. There was always a meaning beneath the meaning. Knightmare? Easy, that was about escapism. Dream Dimension? It was about growing up too fast. Daydream? That was more complicated. 

Daydream was why Eddie needed to write in his journal. It was why he needed to remember that the year was 1990 and that he was in Chicago. 

The thing was, Eddie didn’t remember writing Dream Dimension. There was a 1988 sized hole in his memory between their first and second US tours. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew exactly what caused it. In their early days, they were practically paid in 8 Balls and party favours. Eddie always had an addictive personality and getting into anything stronger than weed had been a bad idea.

It wasn’t until his bandmates had an intervention that he’d been able to see the forest through the trees. Realising there was a whole chunk of his life he’d missed out on was petrifying. So, Eddie kept a journal. 

He’d been sober for almost a year. He was practically fucking straight-edge without all the pretentiousness that came with it, but he knew one slip-up was enough to send him spiralling. That was how he ended up in Chicago.

It was the last show of their Dream Dimension tour, and they were in Chicago. Eddie was always lively on stage. Gareth had abandoned one of his drumsticks during a solo only for Eddie to run across the stage, slip and bite the dust with his ankle going one way and the rest of him going another. 

He’d woken up in a hospital with a lump on his ankle the size of a baseball and the uncomfortably familiar feeling of being high off his face on painkillers. 

To answer the question, Daydream was about getting older. It was about being okay with getting older. It was about doing it your own way. Back in the thick of it all, it’d looked like Eddie wasn’t going to make it to thirty. He was trying to be okay with the idea that he might. 

Last year, Jeff got married to a nice girl who’d been their costume designer for their first music video. It’d shaken him in a way he didn’t know how to explain. He was in his mid-twenties, yet suddenly he felt old. Wayne had retired and with Eddie’s help brought a Winnebago. He was probably fishing in Nebraska right now. 

See, the thing about the titular character in Daydream, was that he’d conformed to what life was supposed to be. By the end of the album, he’d have left that life behind for another, one of action and adventure, because Eddie could never understand why Dorothy wanted to leave Oz for fucking Kansas. Fuck Kansas, on principal.

Something about the album wasn’t clicking. Knightmare was leaving his boring life but ultimately, he was alone. Was that what getting older was all about? Being okay with being alone? When you were gay in 1990, it might be. 

After the tour ended he hadn’t wanted to go back to his apartment in Burbank. He hated it there. He’d entertained the idea of heading back to New York but it was depressing. It reminded him of Jack, and how so many of their friends weren’t around anymore. 

When all was said and done, he and Gareth decided to stay in Chicago. He never said it out loud, but Eddie was sure his friend had stuck around to keep an eye on him. 

Sometimes, Eddie just wanted someone to come home to. Maybe that was why he’d had a string of shit boyfriends. If you weren’t picky, people would walk all over you. 

Jack had been the one that’d made Eddie swear off dating. It wasn’t worth the trouble. He’d rather die alone. His name wasn’t even Jack, it was Corey, but everyone called him Jack. Short for Jacket. Eddie wished he was joking. That should’ve been the first red flag. 

The thing about Corey was he always wore the same goddamn custom-made, leather jacket, all year round. He’d liked having sex in front of his full-length mirror with Eddie always on his knees, which should’ve been at least a yellow flag. He never liked anything gentle. Corey liked the idea of having a rockstar boyfriend more than he actually liked Eddie or monogamy. That was why when Eddie left, he took his jacket. 

He didn’t know why he was still wearing it, but he was. He pulled it on as he hobbled in his moon boot across the street from his and Gareth’s rented apartment to the record store. He hadn’t gone outside in a week, and he was about to start climbing up the goddamn walls. He just needed to go somewhere, and Eddie loved record stores, especially little indie ones. 

Once inside, Eddie noticed the place was practically empty save for the guy behind the counter. They had an eclectic mix of records and zines lining the shelves. Eddie was glad the place was quiet. He didn’t have to worry about being spotted. It wasn’t like they were The Beatles. They could go places but in a big enough crowd, he was sure to turn a few heads. Some days, Eddie just wanted to disappear. 

They had Corroded Coffin records on the display shelf and a couple of magazines with his band's name on the cover, which made pride swell in Eddie’s chest, but he wasn’t here for stroking his ego. He wanted to know what other people were doing and get back in touch with the scene. 

He was busy sifting through the bargain bin when he felt someone slide in beside him. He cringed, almost expecting it to be some over-enthused metal head with a pen and a Corroded Coffin tee shirt, but it was just the dude behind the counter.  

“Sorry, can I squeeze past?” the guy mumbled, a crate of records awkwardly tucked beneath his shoulder.

Eddie did his best to make himself small, his dumbass ankle making a simple task seem like an effort. He didn’t miss the way the man’s free hand brushed over his side as he passed, as though trying to assure Eddie stayed stable. 

“Place sure is quiet,” Eddie observed glancing over at the man.

His jeans were fitted, tight in all the right places. He’d rolled up the cuffs of his shirt to reveal more of his bicep than Eddie deemed necessary and god his hair. There was something about his hair. Something about him seemed familiar. Eddie really hoped they hadn’t hooked up once. That’d be awkward as hell. 

“Yeah, we usually close around five,” The man replied putting an album on the shelf. 

It was almost six. Shit. 

Eddie hated when people did that. They treated him differently because his name was in the papers. Everyone wanted something from him, and they thought doing favours was a good way to win him over. It wasn’t. The guy could clearly see something shift in Eddie. 

“It’s no big deal. I have to stay an hour late to replace the stock, plus my roommate has a girl over, so I’d rather be here,” The boy laughed, shooting a look at Eddie over his shoulder, a stray strand of his perfect goddamn hair falling in his face. 

The boy paused, teeth worrying away at his lower lip, his hand falling to his hip as his eyes searched Eddie's face. 

“Do I know you from somewhere?” He asked. 

And there it was. Sometimes people did that. They played dumb about who he was before making a big goddamn deal out of it. Eddie suddenly wanted to crawl back to his apartment and spend another month in isolation. 

The boy snapped his fingers in triumph.

“Munson,” He practically shouted and holy fucking shit, that wasn’t what Eddie expected. 

No one knew his last name, not his real one. Everyone changed their names when they got famous. He’d gone for something simple, Eddie Emerson, it had some alliteration, just like Corroded Coffin. It wasn’t too far from his real name but not even the die-hards knew him as Munson. 

Then Eddie remembered. 

This guy was Steve goddamn Harrington. He didn’t remember many people from high school, but he remembered Steve. 

“Harrington,” Eddie breathed in disbelief. To his surprise, Steve screwed up his nose. 

“Unfortunately,” He admitted and stuck out a hand expectantly. Eddie leaned down and clasped Steve’s hand. From what he remembered of Steve, the guy had never been this friendly. 

“Nice to re-meet you I guess. I’d like to think I’ve changed a little in over five years.” He had, Eddie didn’t know how to explain how he knew, he just did. It was something about the way the boy held himself. 

“What brings you to Chicago?” He asked, seemingly oblivious to the fact that one of Eddie’s records was sitting on the shelf beside him. Honestly, it was a breath of fresh air to find someone who didn’t know who he was. He could keep the charade up a little bit longer. 

“Oh you know, work stuff,” Eddie answered vaguely, toying with his hair. 

That was something he did when he was flirting and holy shit, he needed to squash that right goddamn now. He wasn’t looking to date anybody, and he remembered Steve being very straight in high school. He needed to save himself from another heartbreak. 

“You live in Chicago now?” Eddie asked. The‘ because you didn’t seem like the type to ever leave’ was implied. 

“Yeah. Rob, my roommate, she practically dragged me here. We’ve been attached at the hip since I graduated. It wasn’t like there was anywhere else I wanted to be,” Steve answered. 

A little detail about the statement screamed for Eddie’s attention. 

“The same roommate that has a girl over?” He pressed and watch Steve fold his arms over his chest, all huffy indignation locked and loaded, begging for Eddie to choose his next words wisely. 

“The same,” he confirmed. Now that Eddie knew, he noticed they were selling a couple of queer zines. It didn’t necessarily mean anything. Steve might just be progressive. 

“I thought you were meant to be the lady's man, Steve,” Eddie tried hoping that was enough to make Steve’s defences fall. To his surprise, Steve snorted and shook his head. 

“Like I said, lots changed since high school. My luck in the dating department couldn’t be worse,” he admitted as he returned to stacking the shelves. 

Eddie watched the planes of his back move beneath his shirt, wanting to push himself against him, to feel what it was like for Steve to move beneath him.

He really needed to get a hold of himself. 

“Couldn’t be worse than my luck,” Eddie rebutted offhandedly. 

Steve shook his head and shot Eddie another glance over his shoulder. He inhaled deeply as though preparing to tell a long story. Eddie leaned against the shelf to show Steve he was all ears. 

“Last month, I went on a date with a girl and she asked me if she could call me by her ex-boyfriend’s name,” Steve began. 

Eddie screwed up his nose in response. 

“Worse still, I was so shocked she’d asked, I just agreed to it.” It was Eddie’s turn to snort. 

“Stevie, you didn’t.” 

Stevie. Goddamn Stevie. Don’t do this to yourself, Munson. Pet names are one step away from a full-blown crush. 

“I did. Do I look like a ‘Juan’ to you?” Steve asked honestly. The question had Eddie doubled over in stitches. 

“Alright, alright. That’s pretty bad, but that’s one bad date,” Eddie reasoned. 

“Dude, I wasn’t finished. The girl before that realised she was a lesbian, while on a date with me. Which is like... the third time that’s happened,” Steve admitted.

Eddie’s hand had betrayed him and returned to toy with a strand of his hair. He hid behind it as he tried to mask a laugh. This guy did have shit luck. 

“You’re a lesbian magnet,” Eddie reasoned watching as Steve hid behind his hands. 

“And the time before that, I thought I was getting somewhere with a guy. We’d been on three dates before he told me he had a wife.” 

Steve made the next confession a little quieter than the others, a little more reserved. Eddie felt the hairs on his arm stand on end. Steve had changed since high school.

“Once I hooked up with a guy who’d only give me head if I sang to him while he did it,” Eddie admitted, feeling the need to get Steve off the defensive and add to the pity party. He watched the boy’s features shift.

“Oh wow, that’s bad. You should’ve pretended to be tone-deaf,” Steve reasoned, once more proving he had no idea what Eddie did for a living. 

“See I was torn between that and singing La Cucaracha at the top of my lungs.” Steve snorted, honest to god snorted.  

The two lapsed into silence but it was a comfortable one. Steve smoothed down his hair five times within the space of a minute before taking a deep breath. 

Eddie knew what was coming. He wasn’t dumb, but a part of him would always be trapped back in high school. It kept screaming there was no way a popular kid like Steve would talk to a loser like him. He thought he’d buried that part of himself, yet here it was, rising from the dead. 

“Do you want to get a drink?” 

And there it was. Eddie didn’t mean to cringe, but Steve caught it, his hands stuffed themselves into the too-tight back pockets of his jeans. 

“Or not,” He muttered averting his gaze. 

“No. It’s not that. I... I don’t drink.” 

There you go Gareth. He was responsible enough to look after himself. 

“I could do dinner though,” Eddie tried to throw Steve a bone. 

Eddie waited for Steve to throw up one of the red flags he’d gotten used to seeing with all the men he’d dated or hooked up with. Eddie would say he didn’t drink, and they’d give him a funny look or mutter something about him being a killjoy. 

“There’s a place that does a wicked deep-dish pizza not far from here. You said you weren’t from Chicago, right? You’ve gotta have the pizza, it’s a rite of passage,” Steve ploughed on.

“Sure,” He muttered trying not to look as surprised as he felt. 

He watched Steve buzz around the record store, shutting up shop and then extending a hand shyly to Eddie. Right, his stupid goddamn leg. At least it gave him an excuse to get up close and personal with Steve in the street and not draw too much attention. 

The two made the short walk to the pizzeria at a plodding pace, talking about nothing in particular. 

“What happened to your leg?” Steve asked as they slid into the booth. 

“Slid on a drumstick and took a nosedive off a stage,” Eddie admitted. He wasn’t going to outright lie to Steve. 

“Ouch,” Steve mumbled, passing the menu over to Eddie. 

“So, you still do band stuff? I remember that high school talent show,” Steve noted, and Eddie cringed, letting his head drop to the table. 

“I really wish you didn’t,” He chuckled before confirming,

“Yeah, I still do band stuff,” as he raised his head and chanced a glance at Steve. 

“Cool,” was all he said before they shifted the subject. 

They were swapping stories about best friends, roommates, shared high-school trauma and generally flirting when a figure approached their booth. It was a kid, who couldn’t be older than fifteen with a shaved head and a battle jacket. He reminded Eddie of himself at that age. He knew what was coming.

“You’re Eddie Emerson, right? From Corroded Coffin,” the kid asked, his hands shaking. He watched as a furrow appeared on Steve’s brow before his jaw dropped. So Steve wasn’t totally clueless. 

“One and only. You want me to sign something for you?” Eddie asked, having gone through this song and dance a million times before. He tried to be nice, after all, it was a kid, but sometimes he got tired of always having to be on. 

To make matters worse it happened in front of Steve. Something about people coming up to him always sat wrong with other guys he’d been with. He wasn’t sure if it was jealousy or ego that did it, but he knew if he ran into a fan on a date, the rest of the night typically went sideways. 

He signed the back of a napkin as he listened to the kid rattle off praise for their music. He talked about his favourite songs and lyrics. Eddie wished he knew what to say, wished he knew how to take a compliment but he didn’t. To his surprise, he heard Steve speak. 

“Hey, did you make this?” Steve asked indicating the kid's battle jacket, forcing him to come up for air.

“Yeah, all on my own.”

The kid blinked and ran his hand over a couple of the hand-sewn patches. Steve obviously knew nothing about the scene because if you didn’t make your own jacket people would call you a poser. It was a nice shout though because he watched the kid light up. 

“Even the safety pins?” Steve asked curiously.

Eddie watched as the kid launched into a story of every little pin and stitch in the jacket, turning his attention away from Eddie, and giving him space to catch his breath. It was nice. He felt like Steve had seen him.

After another few minutes, the kid’s dad came to collect him and Eddie felt his body sag against the diner booth. 

“You get that all the time?” Steve asked, his foot nudging Eddie’s under the table. 

“You wouldn’t believe it,” He grumbled scrubbing his face. Steve nudged his foot again, giving him a goofy grin. 

“At least he liked your stuff,” He proposed. 

“I’m guessing it’s not your thing,” Eddie reasoned. He wasn’t one for stereotypes, but he really didn’t look like the typical Corroded Coffin fan. 

“I’m not too picky when it comes to music. I just listen to top forty stuff.” Eddie shot him a disbelieving look.  

“Dude you work in a record store,” he laughed and Steve shrugged.

“Among other things. I just got the job to hang out with Robin. She works there too. She only took the job to try and peddle her girlfriend Nancy’s zines. Sometimes I write the sports section because Nancy, Robin and Jonathan don’t know anything about sports.” Eddie rested his head in the palm of his hand, listening attentively. 

“Wait, is that the same Nancy that you dated back in high school?” He asked, trying to sound scandalised, glad to have a break from the rock star bullshit. 

“Like you said, lesbian magnet,” Steve grumbled, mirroring Eddie’s gesture, resting his head in his hand. 

“What are you actually doing in town?” Steve asked, more curious than nosy. 

“Trying to run away from writing our third album,” Eddie spoke. 

It’d been the first time he admitted it out loud. He didn’t talk about his music until he thought it was worth something, but Steve was a good listener. To Eddie’s surprise, he found himself spilling his guts to Steve. He told him all about the third album, about the goddamn symbolism, and the way things just weren’t clicking. 

“Why don’t you give him a reason to stay?” Steve asked when Eddie finished his monologue, as though it was the simplest solution in the world. 

“I mean, Dorothy doesn’t go back to Kansas because she doesn’t like Oz, she misses home. She misses her family. You want your knight guy to stay in fantasy land? Give him someone to stay for,” Steve proposed, and it was like the final puzzle piece sliding into place. It was brilliant.

“Stevie, I could kiss you,” Eddie spoke.

“Is that a promise?” Steve asked with a cheeky grin.

“Let’s get out of here and find out.”

[la2yn0va]

Yo! I send you luck in getting Feixiao, my guy! Can i request some Yandere Feixiao, Yukong, Jing Yuan, Luocha and Jingliu x Dilf! Widow! Male reader? In context the reader was a former cloud knight that as a child, lost his family because of the abundance. This cause the reader to hate the abundance soo much that he joined the could knights just to kill them all. The reader was one of the best in doing so, he was soo good that people called him "The bane of the abundance". He was respected and even feared, regardless he was an idol and a figure everybody knows about. However after years of combat, he fallen in love with someone to the point he had a kid with that woman. Thus in order for him to focuse on his family he retired leaving his hatred go. However after years later he lost his wife and child while he was out getting food for his family due to an attack by the abundance. This caused him to returned this time with a hatred greater than ever becaming even more ruthless and merciless (little side note: the reader has potential to became the emanator of the hunt. Also if you want the reader to have some relation ti the characters before his retirement is up to you)

Ight.

CW: Murder, Child Murder, Yandere Characters, Delusional and Obsessive Love, abuse, drug use, speaking ill of the dead, forced love… like FORCED forced love.

***

Yukong & Feixiao

(Putting them together because they’re similar)

She couldn’t help but feel disgusted with herself. She shouldn’t be feeling happy about this situation! Your wife and child had died and you came back to the military.

You were in pain, as you were when you first joined! But… she can’t help but feel euphoric!! That bitch who had dared steal YOU from HER was dead along with that child!!

All her own progress was wiped away!! Her murders gone unsolved or framed on the abominations of abundance, her meticulous words with you just thrown out the window! All cause of that BITCH!!

When the news first reached her of your family’s death, remorse wasn’t a feeling she got, but joy. A euphoric, sadistic joy at the news that your wife and child were gone.

Yes, a part of her was disgusted. But it was a spec compared to her obsession with you. She used her power to get close to you. Using her position to get you into situations where you’d be near or with her.

She’d also be shameless in her attempts to get closer with you. MUCH closer than she was when you were first in the military. Her pupil’s practically morphing into hearts at the sight of you.

She’d try to hold your hand to ‘comfort’ you or get you an accessory as a small sign of her love, but you’d also reject her advances.

It angered her, it ENRAGED her. The bitch is STILL fucking with HER! From the damn grave she’s STILL MANIPULATING YOU!! With every reject she grows more and more delusional.

It eventually reached a breaking point. She couldn’t allow you to stay disillusioned anymore! You don’t love that woman! YOU DONT!! That worthless waste of oxygen was manipulated you into THINKING YOU LOVED HER!!

She knows she can’t take you in a fight. No. Unfortunately, she has to weaken you in some way. So, she goes the the alchemy commission, putting in an anonymous request to a shady and criminal worker to make a specific type of drug.

The drug is complete, and she then has the person killed and dumped into the enemies territory. She smirks as she drugs you. Your food. And your drinks.

The drug weakens you physically, just enough for her to take you in a fight if you ever get rowdy. It also has a love potion effect, just to make sure you’ll love her.

Then, she takes you to the basement of her home. Keeping you there, slowly curing you of that woman’s manipulation and lies. Even using some forced acts. But it’s all worth it! The end justifies the means.

You don’t leave until she deems you cured. Even then, she makes you resign from the cloud knights to keep you safe, and quickly gets you to impregnate her just to keep you busy and solidify your position as her lover. FOR. EVER.

Luocha & Jing Yuan

(I think they’re pretty similar)

He felt remorse for you. The loss of a spouse and child is a pain he couldn’t imagine.

He lets you heal, allowing you to mourn in your own way while slowly creeping his way into your mind.

Jing yuan is always there when you go to massacre the abundance monsters, helping you with your murder spree.

Luocha is there to keep you alive and heal ANY injury you get, not matter its severity. Ain’t he just a sweetheart?

He would slowly test the waters, giving you small gifts and flirting with you. He’d see you being uninterested and believe he still needs to be patient.

But… you don’t change. You still look uninterested. You still look at him like a close and good friend. And it eats away at him.

The thought of you wanting to stay alone instead of getting into another relationship did NOT help. And it also shattered him when you confirmed his thoughts.

That, broke him. All his plans just thrown out the window, all his progress becoming meaningless!! And all his love.. his heart… Stomped on, spit on, ripped in half!

(They’d do the same thing feixiao & yukong did with the whole drug thing)

He’d keep you in his home/coffin. Making sure you don’t leave. He’d then begin to show you how he’d be a much better lover than that woman.

And eventually, when the drug’s love effects fully take over or you fall in love with him, he doesn’t allow you to fight. He can’t risk loosing you, he doesn’t even WANT you to fight.

No. Just stay with him, away from any battle. He’ll take care of that. You. And everything. He’ll take care of all and any dangers.

All he wants you to do is sit back, be safe, and love him.

Jingliu

She doesn’t feel remorse for the death of your family. Nor disgust for the joy she feels. This is prefect for her.

You’re coming back into her life, back into her arms, BACK TO HER. And she intends to keep it that way.

She encourages your hatred towards the abundance, she manipulates your mind into being distrustful of everyone else BUT her.

Jingliu and you would ritualistically go on multiple murder sprees against the abundance, torturing the abominations.

Despite not caring about the death of your family, she is careful with her actions when it comes to making you love her.

But, when she becomes Mara-struck. She goes off the deep end. Jingliu kidnaps you. Slicing open a large wound and sneaking in an icicle, freezing your muscles and blood, making you unable to move.

She takes you, and you two flee the xianzhou. Exploring the cosmos. Jingliu isn’t afraid to do whatever she wants with you.

She’s already unhealthily obsessed with you, but now she’s mara-struck. She couldn’t care about your opinion to your situation.

If you protest, she freezes your lips shut. If you try to escape, she makes your blood and muscles freeze just enough to slow you down for her to catch you AND beat her love into you.

She keeps you only centimeters away from her. Unless in the bathroom, you get no type of privacy.

-The End-

[moonselune]

Wait, the Ansur quest is Wylls side quest? Damn. I thought it was just a fetch/kill with a little dungeon crawl so I skipped it in favor of other things bc I was on a time crunch. They really didn’t lean on its importance as much as anyone else’s side quests. Either that or Im dense…. 🤷‍♂️

Honeslty I didn't realise it to begin with either and as I've mentioned previously on my first run I completelty missed it.

And I think the reason is, it is all based in act 3 and you don't hear about the wyrm until act 3. Whereas for Astarion for example, its cazador this cazador that, I still stand by the fact that if Astarion gets downed in combat he should go "ugh this is cazadors fault".

Whereas the dialogue lines we get with Wyll are, how was it growing up as a duke's son? Pretty shit about all that mizora stuff huh?

Like it's all small talk really like yes the reveal about the exile and the reasons behind it is interesting, but its like and what?

Like he comes back to baldur's gate, and obviously you could argue that Wyll has changes and people wouldn't have recognised him, but you would expect some pushback. Florrick only gets mad when Mizora meddles with things, apart from that its like yay wyll!

Could you imagine the salacious gossip that would be going round regardless of the absolute, like I'm thinking bridgerton lady whistledown type shit. Like it would make wayyyy more sense that the baldurs mouth gazette quest to have something to do with Wyll. Just everyone gossiping about the Duke's son returning and he's got horns!

He would have suitors flocking him, trying to marry up, trying to get in with the Duke and he's got horns so he's tangled with Devils and survived - even better.

Honeslty just imagine a quest where you enter the lower city and Wyll just gets swamped by adorning suitors and you have to knock them out, or even you have to survive a turn based chase through the city. The possibilites

ALSO - (you have unlocked a Seluney rant, congratulations/comiserations)

They could have developed a Wyll/Gortash storyline, because if Gortash was slutting his way up to the top he must have encountered Wyll at some point, even if Wyll was just a teenager and it was at a ball.

Could you imagine the banter between them at the coronation, sans all the sad stuff about his dad etc.

"Finally managed to grow in that stubble Wyll?"

"At lesat I have changed, unlike your taste for fashion."

"To be knighted Archduke by your father - must have been a shock for you Wyll."

"You on your knees for a noble? Not really."

Like he is the only one not surprised that Gortash and Durge hooked up.

You could even further that by him knowing Karlach as Gortash's bodyguard which why when Mizora is like you need to hunt down this devil and he recognises her and is like yea sure. Crook on the surface, crook in avernus, it would make sense to him. Which would then make his realisation that Karlach is good, so much more intense.

But yea Larian really missed a trick here.