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swordgrace · 1 month

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& 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐈’𝐌 𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

⠀ཾ༵ 𑁍┆ gwayne hightower x wife!reader.

SYNOPSIS: you and your husband decide to take advantage of the quiet gardens near the red keep.

anonymous request.

{ FORMAT: drabble — requested by anonymous.

{ WORD COUNT: 4.1K.

{ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), porn with little plot, risk of getting caught, semi-public sex, gwayne is a switch, cunt-drunk gwayne, sex in the red keep gardens, teasing, hair-pulling kink, oral sex (fem!rec), cunnilingus, groping, making out, dirty talk, mild praise kink, p in v sex (unprotected), mild scratching, soft ending.

{ AUTHOR’S NOTE: I am on the Gwayne train right now, I just adore writing for him. This is a smaller story, and I think writing some drabbles might do me a bit of good! I hope that you all enjoy! ❤️ Thanks so much for the love & support!

𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐩, 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡, 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐚.

The smell was akin to a perfumed dowager, the air thick with roses and honey, petals drifting along in the evening breeze. It was a stark contrast to the pungent scent of the rest of the city — perhaps that is why you favored the gardens.

Orange tendrils of a waning sun spread across the leaves, verdant and bright, turning the gardens all sorts of colors — shades of emerald and gold, intermingling with the many flowers there.

Most souls that had occupied the gardens had made themselves scarce, turning it into a paradise that only you shared with another. You often admired the general splendor even when it was crowded, but now, it gave you a rather unobstructed view.

The various palette of the gardens, particularly any deeper shades of forest-green, matched that of your husband’s doublet, embroidered with golden thread. It was strange to see Gwayne removed from his armor, his silvery vassal that kept him well-protected.

In the aftermath of Rook’s Rest, there were days spent in respite, much to your delight. Though, war would steal him away from you again — you intended on making the most out of each moment, beseeching him to remain by your side. He obliged you, fortunately, and you never objected to it.

A golden hour, brightest before dusk, painted you in shades that Gwayne had committed to memory, your features bathed in dying light. You were swathed in gowns of cerulean, a deeper shade of azure that had brought him to heel when you emerged with it on.

Merrily, he often touted that he had the most beautiful wife in all of the realm, and such a sentiment didn’t change nor waver. It was resolute, done with a fondness that made its way to you.

“Perhaps, once this conflict comes to a close, you and I shall return to Oldtown,” Gwayne’s gallant resonance cut through the contented silence, his timbre often filled with regality, the elegant poise of a well-learned Knight. “I’ve grown surfeited by this grisly place.”

If Gwayne had not been so proficient with a blade, you suspected that a quill and his sharp tongue would’ve done him a world of good in another lifetime. His flowery speech had charmed you time and time again, and you were left captivated.

Oldtown had become your home, a sanctuary of which you and Gwayne had built a peaceful life together. With Prince Daeron in your care, it was something of a family — one that you suspected would grow in the near future.

“As have I,” With a gentle sigh, your fingers danced along his velvet-clad forearm, your arm interlaced with his as he led you through the teeming labyrinth. At twilight, it had become wonderfully quiet, a place of solace away from the bustling hum of the Red Keep. “It is a dour place.”

Dour was a mere understatement — Gwayne knew what harm this city could do, crushed beneath the oppressive weight of the Red Keep. Even in its architectural splendor, it remained a shadow, haunting your every step as it loomed above the both of you.

Even in the sanctuary of the Gardens, one could not escape it. He did not envy his sister for being sequestered here for most of her lifetime — he imagined that it likely led to a path of misfortune and frustration. Being in Oldtown, he could afford many liberties, freedoms that weren’t permitted in King’s Landing.

As you continued on your path, a stone terrace opened before you, a comely overlook with a sizable gazebo, marked by dimly-lit torches. Save for the picturesque view of Blackwater Bay, it was surrounded by foliage and flora on all sides.

Gwayne felt your concern in waves, an unspoken sentiment, knowing that he would be called to leave again. Cole’s armies were rallying to march to Harrenhal, and he was summoned to ride alongside him, the second-in-command. You had made your disdain for this known, and Gwayne couldn’t fault you for it.

“I would sorely dislike it if our time together was to be spent in silence,” He watched you through cerulean hues as you rounded the gazebo, moving toward the overlook. Waves gently lapped at the outcropping of rock, breaking upon it, saltwater kisses peppering your cheeks. “I have a duty, dearest.”

A begrudging sigh tore past your lips, and you staved off the sudden onslaught of turmoil. You had come to-terms with the inevitability of his departure — you had dealt with it once before, but the sting never lessened. “I understand. I loathe you and love you for it.” You murmured, your smile threadbare.

Your answer retained a twinge of lightheartedness to it, in the face of a bleak future. Gwayne couldn’t help but scoff, visage dancing with amusement as he stepped toward one of the massive walls of gardenias. Plucking a pale blossom from its stem, he crossed the stone to you, a gesture of affection.

“Loathe me, is that it?” Gwayne wouldn’t have your last moments together spent in melancholy — and you seemed to be in agreement. He placed the blossom behind your ear, carefully tucking it into place. “Have I vexed you so easily?”

Planting a palm against his chest, you allowed your fingertips to trace across plated velvet, dancing toward the Hightower sigil, embroidered into the collar. He was resplendent in noblemen’s garb, painfully handsome and fresh-faced, save for the healing cut upon his lip and bruised brow.

A taut, muscled arm moved to snake around your waist, effortlessly caging you in against him. Your saccharine scent invaded his senses, swarming around his head like a thick haze, one that he delighted in. Beneath the evening sky, he made his ardor for you known, a real and living thing.

“You are swift to credit yourself, husband. I may resort to knocking you from your pedestal.” You teased, tender voice growing softer, a mere purr to his ears. Gods, you were wonderfully divine — Gwayne brazenly squeezed your hip through your gowns, auburn brows lifting in amusement.

Instead of puffing his chest with a playful retort, Gwayne could no longer resist the tempting curve of your lips, craning down to kiss you. It was a sweet mingling of mouths, slow and exploratory, happy to take their time with one another.

The first inklings of an amorous heat crackled between the both of you, a rapturous hunger that hadn’t been sated since he returned from Rook’s Rest. You simply could not get enough of your beloved husband, hands clamoring from his plush doublet to his mane of copper tresses, gripping them tightly.

Even with the thicker material of your dress, Gwayne greedily grasped at your curves, able to feel the pliant swell of your physique beneath. You had already seduced him with your steep necklace and ample bosom — sometimes, you were more of a salacious minx than you were a maiden. He enjoyed you both ways.

Your chambers in the Red Keep seemed so far away, and neediness began to take root, desire flourishing where propriety could not. As you insistently tugged upon his auburn locks, Gwayne felt his cock stir to life within his trousers, twitching as if to remind him of his carnal need for you.

“Incomparable, I must confess,” Gwayne exhaled, hot breath fluttering across your visage. Hints of wine retained their presence upon his tongue, skin smelling of woodland musk and fine soaps. “Not a single wandering eye to find us here.” His timbre dropped into a delectable purr, lips pressing themselves to the curve of your jaw.

Exhilaration struck at the pit of your stomach, coupled with the familiar wave of arousal, its inklings slick and warm between your legs. “What are you implying, husband?” You asked, breathy and wanton, clinging to him like a drowning woman.

A low, teasing hum slipped betwixt his lips, mouth molding to your flesh, gliding across the slender column of your throat. One hand dropped to cup your derrière through the thicker material of your dress, longing to see it around your feet, instead.

A sheepish moan tore past your mouth, unabashedly stoking the fire that simmered between the both of you. Gwayne greedily lapped at your sweet skin, like a thick honey upon his tongue. “It is just you and I, sweetling. Might you indulge me?” He hummed, desperate to have you now that desire had taken hold.

Gods, you wanted him terribly.

It was a fascinating twist, with Gwayne wanting to have you here, given the publicity of the locale. He was often a man to take you to your chambers in the name of chivalry, but this daring, yearning side to him — you quite enjoyed it, his change of heart.

“Gods, I love you.” You sighed, feeling him relocate the both of you towards one of the thick, stone columns that held the gazebo aloft. It was rough against your back, but you cared little for it, hastily unlacing the bodice of your dress. The silken smallclothes you wore beneath would suffice.

A low, stifled groan escaped Gwayne’s mouth, cerulean hues sharp and amatory, roving over you with a thinly-veiled desire. “Seven Hells, you drive me to the brink of madness, wife.” He murmured, swiftly relieving you of that mound of azure velvet.

The simple slip you wore beneath clung to your curves, accentuating your physique in pale shades of ivory, nipples peeking through the thin material. His hand slithered beneath, seeking to find the slick heat of your cunt, pushing your legs apart with his thigh.

Gathering your slip within your hands, you tugged the material up, until it pooled around the swell of your hips, giving him unhindered access. Gwayne careened forward, mouth colliding with yours, lips desperately craving every fiber of your being.

His other hand moved to cup your breast through your gown, thumb languidly swiping over your pebbled nipple, teasing the bud as he rolled it between his fingers. A sharp, noisy gasp escaped you, followed by the unrestrained sound of a moan.

Your hands clamored to perch atop his shoulders, sinking down into the velvet, longing to see him naked. If you closed your eyes, it was easy to imagine, but you desired the real thing. With haste, your digits slipped toward the line of golden clasps along the front, aiming to get it unbuttoned.

“You minx.” Gwayne panted into your mouth, digits beginning to stroke along your slit. Much to his delight, you were already warmed, wet and honey-thick upon his fingers. Lips twined in hot clashes, and he never allowed it to devolve into something sloppy. Each kiss possessed meaning, a fervent love for you.

As you unclasped his doublet, he moved his arms enough to relinquish the stuffy weight of the fabric, musculature lean and taut, his skin pale and glittering in the gentle twilight. It let you squeeze his shoulders, tracing over the freckles there, reveling in his bare flesh.

Gwayne released a few breathy ‘I love you’s’ into your lips, before he relocated to the sensitive column of your throat. He spoke with reverence, as if he had come to worship his goddess, lay himself down at your feet. Your fingers wove themselves against the nape of his neck, tugging on his copper locks.

Practiced, dexterous digits continued to caress along your cunt, before pushing past your folds. He grazed your clit, sending a rush of goosebumps cascading down the length of your spine. “Gwayne,” You moaned, the sweetest melody to his ears as you rocked forward, desperate for any shred of friction. “Please!”

His cock twitched again within his breeches, aching with something powerful, needing to be inside of you. Patience was his virtue and his agony — he still wanted to taste your first. He continued to knead into your breast, evoking another blissful whine from you.

Despite wearing his honor and chivalry like a coat of armor, he cared little for the consequences of potentially being caught. He would ravish his beloved wife here in these gardens — there was no sin in such an act. Kissing along your jugular, he felt you grip and pull on his hair, filling him with an excitable fire.

“Gods, I must taste you,” Gwayne groaned, voice tinged with an alluring husk, palm continuing to caress the plush swell of your breast. The thin, silken strap of your slip began to sag, and he did not fix it, exposed to the unblemished plane of your collarbone. “If you will permit me to do so.”

“You needn’t ask, husband,” A wanton whimper left you when Gwayne’s digits abandoned your cunt, though it would soon be replaced with the fine heat of his greedy tongue. Through a lovesick gaze, you observed in rapturous silence as Gwayne sank to his knees, as if he were preparing to pray. “I belong to you.”

Watching his auburn crown move towards the apex of your thighs was a most tantalizing sight, causing your breath to hitch within your throat. Molten heat surged within your belly, churning with a violent anticipation as you braced one hand atop his shoulder.

A sight to die for, to kill for — Gwayne would’ve fought a thousand battles if it meant that you were the reward at the very end, a resplendent maiden in all of your glory. He would’ve endured torture unimaginable for you, razed down armies, destroyed cities all for you.

The first lap of his tongue caused your knees to buckle, raking hot embers across your cunt. He wedged his way in between your legs, shoulders keeping you apart just enough. Gwayne was quite candid about his enjoyment of tasting you — thoroughly cunt-struck.

A groan stirred within his chest as your fingers grazed through his copper tresses, finding their purchase near the base of his skull. He did not relent, tongue carefully splitting past your folds, greeted by the saccharine onslaught of your arousal.

“Gwayne.” A breathy sigh tore past your parted lips, lulled into subservience from the steady, exploratory laps of his tongue. He was sluggish, allowing the anticipation to mount, nose brushing along your mound.

Your taste was ambrosial, thick and heady, like a haze that he had no desire to escape from. There were many moments where he’d dreamed of this, on the march to Rook’s Rest, sprawled across his cot, fantasizing of you again and again.

He quite enjoyed the way in which you sighed his name, passion bubbling forth from your chest, head rolled back against the stone column. Careworn palms reached for your haunches, delighted to take their fill of you, caressing along the backs of your thighs.

“Exquisite,” Gwayne exhaled, catching his breath to press a string of kisses all along the inside of your thighs. “By the Seven, you taste divine.” He groaned, drunk and dizzy from your cunt. A soft moan escaped you as you coaxed him back, and he willingly obliged.

With another hot, eager lap of his tongue over your core, your knees rattled like leaves in the breeze, feeling his shoulders bully their way between your legs. A brusque, warm breeze fluttered throughout the gazebo, bathed in the waning light of the sunset. Stars began to glisten overhead, unhindered by the clouds.

Gwayne’s eagerness was palpable, able to be felt as he buried his face into your cunt, cerulean eyes fluttering shut in an expression of bliss. A groan stirred within his throat, fluttering throughout his chest as you fisted his auburn tresses, soft beneath your palms.

You could not get enough of him, keeping your hands on him in whatever way you could, chest heaving with wanton sighs. Carnality and desire permeated the air, the atmosphere thick with desperation. You always treated each moment as if it would be your last.

His mouth fervently worked against your slick cunt, sending pleasant shockwaves into the pit of your stomach. Goosebumps danced along your spine, followed by a shiver that made you moan. Your hips rolled forward, shamelessly grinding yourself into your husband’s waiting lips.

With a flick of his tongue, Gwayne sought the pearl of your cunt, lips eagerly kissing their way to your clit. He planted feather-light kisses around that sensitive clutch of nerves, causing you to tremble, digits tightening within his hair. Your grip was ironclad, but it was pleasurable for him, knowing you were enjoying yourself.

“Gods, Gwayne,” You whined, listening to the lewd noises of your chivalrous paramour suckling on your clit. Another onslaught of molten heat swirled within your stomach, seeping into your bones, manifesting as arousal between your thighs. “Do — Do not stop!” The urgency in your voice had increased exponentially.

If there were any evening stragglers in the Royal Gardens, you prayed to the Seven that they would not stumble upon the both of you.

The sight itself was inherently sinful, with you haplessly pressed against the stone column, gallant dress strewn across the ground, slip sagging along your physique. Gwayne’s emerald doublet had joined your garments below. You reveled in the sight of his head between your thighs, causing you to whimper.

Gwayne could detect when you were accelerating towards your release, able to feel the twitches and tremors in your thighs. He soothingly stroked along your silky flesh, interchanging between the greedy suckling of your clit, to long, broad strokes of his tongue.

His lips glistened with a sticky sheen of your nectar, of a finer stout than many, more delectable than any wine that had befallen his mouth. Gwayne worshiped you, kissed the ground you walked upon, and he did not feel an ounce of shame in it.

His cock throbbed with a desperate ache, precum slick around the head as it strained against his trousers. Your own satisfaction spurred him on, and your delightful noises only sent him spiraling into the depths of depravity. You hadn’t a clue of the things you did to him.

In a brazen maneuver, his tongue prodded against your entrance, gingerly thrusting inside of you. You gasped, biting at the inside of your cheek, digits raking through his auburn locks. You let your grip loosen, hips careening forward into his mouth again.

Gwayne ravished you, with the ravenous appetite of a starving dog. He moved back just enough to lap at your cunt, making a blazing trail from your entrance to your clit. “I’m close,” You huffed, issuing some warning to him before the dam had burst altogether. “Gwayne!”

It was the only word you knew in the present, his name — it rolled from your tongue in a delighted cry, laced with ardor and reverence. You reached your peak, shamelessly spilling yourself upon his tongue, and he was enamored with you.

With careful, sluggish strokes of his tongue, he delicately cleaned the mess he made of you, allowing you to bring yourself down from your peak. Even if the intensity had made you burn at a fever pitch, you were far from finished, tugging on Gwayne’s tresses to get his attention.

“Take me, husband,” It wasn’t a request — it was a demand, a command made upon a yearning wife. Desire glistened like a thick sheen within his cerulean eyes, which happened to widen at the sight of you. “Please.” You didn’t have to beg — Gwayne wanted you just as terribly.

He swiftly rose from between your legs, pupils dilated with lust as he steered you toward the stone bannister of the overlook, wide enough to support you. You sat down, hastily fumbling with the leather ties of his trousers. Gwayne parted your legs again, bending over you as he sought your mouth.

The taste of arousal — yours — fell heavy upon your tongue, lips clashing together as you desperately sought to free his cock from its confines. “I need you,” Gwayne husked against your mouth, pearlescent teeth briefly snagging on your lower lip. “Gods, how I’ve missed this, missed you.”

“Gwayne,” A moan escaped you, intermingling with his husky pants and sonorous groans. His forehead nudged against yours, lips hot and needy, and you were more than happy to reciprocate. “I need you, I …” Your voice tapered off when his cock slid against your folds.

He kept you steady, hands caging you against the bannister, the stone biting into your back as he kept you at an angle. Silk gathered around your hips, friction wafting between the both of you as he thrust forward, cock sinking into you.

Hitching a leg around his waist as best as you could, your hands roamed to his chest, nails digging into his collarbone as he began to find an erratic pace. He was loving and passionate, even still, but there was something inherently quick about his rhythm.

Perspiration glittered along his brow from the warm evening, yet it did not stop him from pounding away at you. His cock filled you perfectly, providing a delectable stretch that made your toes curl. It wasn’t an intimidating thing, but it was pretty, just like the rest of him.

Through his clenched teeth, Gwayne sang your praises, savoring the way in which your cunt constricted around him, as if drawing him in. “Seven Hells, your cunt is perfection,” Such lewd, crass words sounded so eloquent coming from his lips, as debonair as a Prince. “I cannot get enough of you, sweet wife.” He groaned.

Despite his crudely-spoken compliment, you were lost within the throes of your own pleasure, body rocked into submission by each snap of his hips. His cock bottomed out within you, movements swift yet punctuated, as if every thrust possessed meaning.

You loved Gwayne unconditionally — perhaps too much, if such a thing were possible. Your chest heaved with sweet, passionate sighs and gentle moans, forehead occasionally brushing against his. His hands kept themselves firm along your waist, curling into the silk of your slip.

His cock battered away at your slick cunt, aided by your mounting arousal. Everything felt so feverishly warm, as if you had been set ablaze, nerves feeling like they were steeped in fire. “More,” You moaned, and it effectively caught Gwayne’s attention. “Gwayne, please.” He was weak to your soft pleas.

Your beloved husband lacked harshness when it came to intimacy, something you adored about him. Even when his thrusts became desperate and erratic, chasing after his release, he never resorted to using you. His lips sought the column of your throat, nose brushing along your jugular.

A string of kisses peppered themselves against your sweet flesh, with the occasional suckling of his lips to your neck. A myriad of throaty whines and whimpers continued to leave you in droves, cunt pathetically clenching around him.

Buckling forward, Gwayne planted one palm against the stone bannister, the other caging in around you as he continued to pound away into your needy cunt. He kissed you wherever he could, dwindling into desperation and the innate desire to taste your sweet flesh.

His lips parted slightly, a strained grunt escaping him as he thrust forward again, until there was nowhere left for him to go. Gwayne pulled back just enough, the head of his cock still inside of you before he moved forward again. The friction made you shiver, fingers grasping at the nape of his neck.

His name continued to slip from your mouth, over and over again, like a whispered prayer. Your nails left behind red crescents upon his skin, sharp brands of your lovemaking. Gwayne groaned against your throat, desiring to kiss you once more, lips laying claim to yours with a fervor.

With another snap of his hips, Gwayne shuddered, nearly collapsing into you as he reached his peak. Hot ropes of seed brazenly spilled inside of you, warming your insides as he attempted to catch his breath. You pressed your forehead to his, breathing with him, allowing your hands to slack.

Gwayne politely removed himself from you, mindful of your garments as he fixed your gown back into place. The slip itself was disheveled, but he ensured its tidiness before you got dressed again.

“How divine you are,” Gwayne hummed, planting gentle kisses along the side of your face before it ended at the curve of your jaw. “Beautiful beyond comprehension.” He murmured, using two digits to delicately place the strap of your slip back upon your shoulder.

“You flatter me, husband,” Your smile was warm and amiable, the brightness of springtime, bringing a rosy flush to his features. “I quite enjoyed your brazen streak.” Through a smitten confession, Gwayne kissed your brow, lips twitching into a debonair smirk.

“I am not ashamed of ravishing my wife, be it in our chambers or in the garden,” He replied, reaching for his velveteen doublet and your azure dress. It was easy for him to slip back into the stuffy material, and he was more than happy to assist you. “I cannot get enough of you.”

His words were tantalizing, as if intended to bring about another string of salacious thoughts. Gwayne stood behind you as you stepped back into your dress, helping to lace your bodice up again. He planted a kiss along your exposed shoulder, and then to the crook of your neck.

You reached for his hand, letting it drape across your shoulder as you pressed a delicate kiss against his bruised knuckles. “You shall have me, Gwayne — for as long as you desire me.” You sighed, feeling his nose brush along your cheek, the warmth of his body pressing in behind you.

With a kiss to your temple, one oozing with such fondness and ardor that you feared you might melt, Gwayne’s lips hovered near the shell of your ear. In the twinkling dusk, he held you close. “Forever, then.”

#house of the dragon #gwayne hightower x reader #gwayne hightower x you #gwayne hightower x y/n #hotd x reader #house of the dragon smut #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd smut #gwayne hightower #gwayne x reader #game of thrones x reader

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mossycobblestonewrites · 5 months

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DC X DP PROMPT #21

Danny is an emergency foster, though with the way that this is going, it looks like Bruce is on track to try and push for adoption (at least something more permanent.)

Now, Danny knows what his foster family gets up too. He knows the signs, he's been in their boat. So he doesn't say anything (they'll tell him when they're ready, he figures.) Danny also doesn't plan to stay for much longer.

In an attempt to give his foster family - of which had so far shown him great kindness - some form of closure. He offhandedly passes on some words from their various deceased friends and loved ones. Hopefully that will help when he inevitably bolts.

#dc x dp #dpxdc #danny as a medium #idk how he ends up as a foster #but doesnt plan to stick around #im alive lmao #just been mega busy #you get to decide who he tells what #yummy angst

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esotericalchemist · 2 days

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𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐚 𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝: 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲 *°:⋆ₓₒ

Masterlist - YouTube (subliminals)

In Vedic astrology, the ascendant, or rising sign, represents the foundation of your personality and approach to life. Each rising sign is ruled by a specific planet, known as the Lagna Lord, which governs key aspects of your life, including your strengths, challenges, and overall destiny. The placement of this ruling planet in different houses of your chart adds further depth, influencing how you express your unique qualities and navigate various life experiences. In this blog, we will explore how each rising sign and its Lagna Lord shape your journey, and what the placement of the ruling planet reveals about your path in life.

𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠

In Vedic astrology, having Aries as your ascendant (Mesha Lagna) gives you a vibrant, fearless, and action-oriented nature. As someone with Aries rising, you are naturally bold, self-reliant, and inclined to take the lead in life. You excel in leadership roles and enjoy starting new projects, often feeling an innate desire to steer the direction of those around you. Mars, your ruling planet, symbolizes drive, bravery, and assertiveness. Mars, your ruling planet, symbolizes drive, bravery, and assertiveness. The house placement of Mars in your chart will play a crucial role in determining how you chase after your goals and overcome obstacles.

Possible Nakshatras:

Ashwini: You act quickly and have a pioneering spirit, with a natural talent for bringing healing or innovative ideas to life. Your enthusiasm is infectious, and you’re known for making fast, decisive choices.

Bharani: You are attuned to life’s cycles of transformation and possess immense inner strength. Freedom is highly valued, and you show great patience and resilience when facing life’s challenges.

Krittika (1st pada): You are sharp, determined, and highly focused. You cut through distractions with ease, always striving for success. You have a strong sense of fairness and an unyielding drive to accomplish your goals.

Mars through the Houses:

Mars in the 1st House: You are naturally assertive, confident, and full of energy. You take charge of situations easily, often stepping into leadership roles with courage and determination.

Mars in the 2nd House: You are highly focused on financial security and work diligently to maintain it. You tend to speak directly and value personal wealth and family assets.

Mars in the 3rd House: A courageous communicator, you’re unafraid to take risks in writing, media, or entrepreneurship. Your relationship with siblings may be competitive, but you tackle challenges head-on.

Mars in the 4th House: Protective of your home and family, you feel deeply connected to your roots. However, emotional intensity can sometimes lead to inner conflict or unease in your domestic life.

Mars in the 5th House: Creative, passionate, and competitive, you thrive in areas like sports, the arts, or speculation. You lead with confidence in activities that demand boldness and self-expression.

Mars in the 6th House: You are fiercely competitive in work and health matters. Challenges don’t faze you, and you may excel in fields related to healthcare, conflict resolution, or service.

Mars in the 7th House: Relationships tend to be intense and dynamic, often attracting strong-willed partners. Conflicts may arise, but they provide opportunities for personal growth.

Mars in the 8th House: Drawn to deep transformation, hidden knowledge, and research, you may face financial challenges related to shared resources but possess the power to emerge stronger from crises.

Mars in the 9th House: Adventurous and philosophical, you are driven to explore new beliefs, cultures, and ideas. Higher education or long-distance travel might be areas of focus, as you seek to broaden your perspective.

Mars in the 10th House: Your career takes center stage, and you are highly motivated to achieve recognition and success. Leadership suits you well, and you approach professional goals with ambition.

Mars in the 11th House: In group settings, you naturally assume a leadership role, and your energy is directed toward achieving long-term objectives. You flourish in social circles that share your ambitions.

Mars in the 12th House: Your drive may be channeled toward spiritual growth, healing, or working behind the scenes. You often seek solitude and introspection, using your energy to explore life’s deeper meanings.

𝐓𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐬 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠

In Vedic astrology, those with Taurus rising (Vrishabha Lagna) tend to exhibit a calm, practical, and grounded demeanor. As a Taurus ascendant, you naturally gravitate toward stability, comfort, and security in both your personal and professional life. You are patient, reliable, and have a strong desire to build lasting foundations. Consistency and a steady approach are hallmarks of your personality. Venus, your ruling planet, governs love, beauty, and material comforts. Where Venus is positioned in your chart reveals how you seek pleasure, express affection, and secure financial well-being, shaping your life’s direction.

Possible Nakshatras:

Krittika (2nd, 3rd, and 4th padas): You have a keen, discerning mindset with a focus on precision and perfection. Krittika natives are ambitious, and you pursue success with determination, often excelling in creative or leadership roles.

Rohini: Creativity and sensuality come naturally to you, and you are deeply connected to beauty and the arts. You possess charm and artistic flair, drawn to luxurious experiences, seeking comfort and pleasure in life.

Mrigashira (1st and 2nd padas): You are intellectually curious and adaptable, always in search of new knowledge and experiences. Mrigashira natives often channel their creativity into problem-solving, thriving in communication or travel-related ventures.

Venus through the Houses:

Venus in the 1st House: You exude charm, grace, and attractiveness, with a naturally magnetic personality. You prioritize harmony in your relationships and personal appearance, often bringing beauty and elegance into your everyday life.

Venus in the 2nd House: You focus on building financial security and material wealth, often thriving in areas like finance, luxury goods, or beauty. Your speech is pleasant, and you seek stability and comfort in a strong family environment.

Venus in the 3rd House: You communicate with creativity and elegance, often finding success in writing, media, or artistic expression. You may have close, supportive relationships with siblings and a flair for artistic endeavors.

Venus in the 4th House: Home is a source of emotional fulfillment, and you are drawn to beautifying your surroundings. You find joy in your family and heritage, creating a nurturing and comfortable domestic life.

Venus in the 5th House: Passionate and expressive, you thrive in creative or artistic fields. Love and romance play a central role in your happiness, and you may have a strong affinity for children, teaching, or the arts.

Venus in the 6th House: You bring beauty and balance to your everyday routines and work environment. While you enjoy helping others, be mindful of indulgence, particularly in health matters, and focus on maintaining harmony in your daily life.

Venus in the 7th House: Partnerships and relationships are a major focus, and you are drawn to loving, harmonious unions. You seek balance and beauty in your relationships and often attract partners who share your refined tastes.

Venus in the 8th House: You are drawn to transformative and deep relationships, often growing through shared resources or intimate bonds. Your love of mystery and intensity may lead you to explore hidden aspects of life, such as psychology or spirituality.

Venus in the 9th House: You seek harmony and beauty in philosophical, spiritual, or educational pursuits. Travel, higher learning, and broadening your horizons bring fulfillment, and you may be inclined toward creative or artistic teachings.

Venus in the 10th House: Your career may center around the arts, beauty, or luxury industries. You aim for recognition in areas where you can express your creativity, bringing grace and harmony into your professional endeavors.

Venus in the 11th House: You are highly social and enjoy connecting with groups that share your aspirations. Friendships and social networks provide support and inspiration, and you may find success in collaborative or artistic communities.

Venus in the 12th House: You are drawn to spiritual or mystical paths, often seeking solitude for creative inspiration. Your love for beauty and art may manifest in subtle or unconventional ways, and you may find fulfillment by working behind the scenes or helping others.

𝐆𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠

In Vedic astrology, a Gemini rising (Mithuna Lagna) bestows you with a lively, inquisitive, and mentally agile nature. As a Gemini ascendant, you are quick-thinking, adaptable, and always in pursuit of new experiences and knowledge. Your mind thrives in environments where communication, learning, and social interaction take center stage. You are naturally inclined toward exchanging ideas and engaging in stimulating conversations. Mercury, your ruling planet, governs intellect, communication, and analytical thinking. The position of Mercury in your chart will influence how you communicate, connect with others, and seek intellectual growth.

Possible Nakshatras:

Mrigashira (3rd and 4th padas): You are intellectually curious and driven by a constant desire for exploration. Mrigashira natives excel in communication, research, and learning, always seeking to broaden their knowledge base.

Ardra: Intense, focused, and transformative, Ardra natives are known for their deep analytical abilities. You have a keen mind and often shine in fields that require scientific or technical expertise.

Punarvasu (1st, 2nd, and 3rd padas): Optimistic and spiritually inclined, Punarvasu natives are nurturing and adaptable. You are drawn to new beginnings, and wisdom-seeking is central to your journey, often finding fulfillment through learning and personal growth.

Mercury through the Houses:

Mercury in the 1st House: You possess a sharp intellect, and your curiosity drives your interactions. Quick-witted and social, you navigate life’s challenges using communication and mental agility, thriving in dynamic environments.

Mercury in the 2nd House: With a talent for clear communication, you have the potential to build financial security through teaching, writing, or public speaking. Your focus is practical, often excelling in commerce or finance-related fields.

Mercury in the 3rd House: A natural communicator, you excel in writing, media, and intellectual endeavors. Your bond with siblings or close friends is important, and you shine in roles that involve networking and idea exchange.

Mercury in the 4th House: You integrate intellect and communication into your home life. You may be drawn to careers in education or real estate, and your home could serve as a center of learning and intellectual growth.

Mercury in the 5th House: Creative and intellectually playful, you excel in areas like teaching, writing, or the arts. You may have a strong interest in education, speculative ventures, or guiding children toward growth and learning.

Mercury in the 6th House: You are methodical and have a knack for problem-solving, especially in areas like health, work, or service. Your analytical nature helps you succeed in administrative, health-related, or organizational roles.

Mercury in the 7th House: Partnerships are intellectually stimulating for you, and you seek relationships that value communication and shared ideas. You may excel in professions centered around partnerships or communication.

Mercury in the 8th House: You are drawn to deep investigation, research, or fields like psychology. With a probing mind, you excel in uncovering hidden truths and may thrive in areas involving finance, transformation, or healing.

Mercury in the 9th House: Your curiosity pushes you toward higher education, travel, and philosophy. You may find success in teaching or sharing knowledge, excelling in writing, publishing, or fields that explore different belief systems.

Mercury in the 10th House: Your career likely revolves around communication, writing, or media. Ambitious in your intellectual pursuits, you bring a sharp, analytical mind to your professional life, aiming for success in public-facing roles.

Mercury in the 11th House: You flourish in social settings, finding success through networking and collaboration. Intellectual or technology-driven fields appeal to you, and you may be drawn to careers that foster social change or collective goals.

Mercury in the 12th House: You may gravitate toward introspective careers such as research, spirituality, or working behind the scenes. With a reflective and analytical mind, you find fulfillment in guiding others through intellectual or spiritual insights.

𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠

In Vedic astrology, Cancer rising (Karka Lagna) imbues you with a sensitive, nurturing, and emotionally driven personality. As a Cancer ascendant, you have a deep connection to your emotions and seek comfort and security in your surroundings. You are empathetic, protective, and naturally drawn to caregiving, especially within close relationships or family settings. The Moon, your ruling planet, governs your emotions, intuition, and inner world. The position of the Moon in your chart reveals how you manage your emotional well-being, care for others, and seek stability in life.

Possible Nakshatras:

Punarvasu (4th pada): Adaptable, nurturing, and optimistic, Punarvasu natives are closely connected to family and home life. You find emotional satisfaction in supporting loved ones and creating a safe, comforting environment.

Pushya: Known for being deeply responsible and nurturing, Pushya natives are committed to fostering growth and stability. You excel in roles that allow you to care for others and provide emotional support.

Ashlesha: Intuitive and intense, Ashlesha natives have a profound understanding of emotions, both their own and others’. You have a gift for navigating complex emotional situations and can transform relationships through your emotional insight.

Moon through the Houses:

Moon in the 1st House: You are emotionally attuned, intuitive, and nurturing by nature. Your moods may fluctuate, but your ability to connect with others on an emotional level makes you a caring and empathetic individual.

Moon in the 2nd House: Your emotional well-being is closely tied to material security, and you focus on creating comfort for yourself and your family. You may thrive in areas related to finance, food, or any field where nurturing is central.

Moon in the 3rd House: You express your emotions through communication, often finding fulfillment in writing, speaking, or media. Close relationships with siblings or friends hold significant emotional value, and intellectual pursuits may provide emotional satisfaction.

Moon in the 4th House: Your home, family, and roots are central to your emotional security. You are deeply attached to your domestic life and may find success in real estate, home design, or caregiving professions.

Moon in the 5th House: Creative and playful, you invest a great deal of emotional energy in self-expression and relationships with children. The arts, education, or any field that allows you to nurture others creatively may be particularly fulfilling.

Moon in the 6th House: You are emotionally connected to service, often finding satisfaction in helping others through health, wellness, or caregiving. Balancing your emotional needs with work responsibilities is essential to maintain stability.

Moon in the 7th House: Partnerships are central to your emotional life, and you seek security through relationships. You are nurturing and empathetic in your partnerships, often prioritizing your partner's emotional well-being.

Moon in the 8th House: You are drawn to transformative emotional experiences and may have a deep interest in psychology, mystery, or healing. Your intuition helps you navigate life's emotional complexities, allowing you to grow through difficult circumstances.

Moon in the 9th House: Your emotional fulfillment comes through higher learning, travel, or spiritual exploration. You may be drawn to philosophical or spiritual teachings and may find success in careers like teaching, publishing, or spiritual guidance.

Moon in the 10th House: Your career plays a key role in your emotional well-being, and you seek public recognition for your work. You may excel in nurturing professions, public service, or roles where you can care for and guide others on a larger scale.

Moon in the 11th House: You are emotionally connected to your community and social circles, finding fulfillment through group activities and friendships. You may be drawn to social causes or humanitarian efforts, using your nurturing nature to inspire others.

Moon in the 12th House: You seek emotional satisfaction through introspection, solitude, and spiritual practices. Meditation, healing, or working behind the scenes to support others may provide deep emotional fulfillment. You may also guide others through emotional or spiritual transformations.

𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠

In Vedic astrology, those with Leo rising (Simha Lagna) are endowed with a strong, charismatic, and confident personality. As a Leo ascendant, you naturally gravitate toward leadership and enjoy being in the limelight. Your presence is radiant, and you often express yourself with boldness and creativity. The Sun, your ruling planet, represents vitality, authority, and self-expression. The position of the Sun in your chart will shape how you assert your identity, take charge, and influence your surroundings.

Possible Nakshatras:

Magha: Noble, proud, and inclined toward leadership, Magha natives often have a deep connection to their ancestral roots. You aim to uphold traditions with respect and dignity, seeking positions of authority and influence.

Purva Phalguni: Known for your charm and love of life's pleasures, you are drawn to creativity, beauty, and luxury. Purva Phalguni natives enjoy art, entertainment, and socializing, often thriving in environments that celebrate beauty and leisure.

Uttara Phalguni (1st pada): Practical and generous, you focus on creating long-term stability. Uttara Phalguni natives balance personal enjoyment with social responsibility, often excelling in leadership roles that benefit others and create lasting impact.

Sun through the Houses:

Sun in the 1st House: You possess a natural authority and exude confidence in all aspects of life. Leadership is second nature, and you often take initiative, inspiring those around you with your charisma and boldness.

Sun in the 2nd House: Your focus is on financial stability and building material success. You take pride in managing resources effectively, often gaining recognition for your ability to secure wealth and provide comfort for your family.

Sun in the 3rd House: A natural communicator, you are bold in expressing your ideas and excel in fields like writing, teaching, or media. Your influence grows through intellectual pursuits, and you often stand out in debates or discussions.

Sun in the 4th House: Your emotional well-being is deeply connected to your home and family life. You take pride in creating a secure and harmonious household, and you may find success in real estate, home-related industries, or caregiving.

Sun in the 5th House: Creative and expressive, you are passionate about self-expression and may excel in the arts, entertainment, or speculative ventures. Your playful nature and romantic spirit draw attention, and you thrive in environments that celebrate creativity.

Sun in the 6th House: Dedicated to service and hard work, you take on leadership roles in your workplace, organizing and improving systems. You are driven by a sense of duty and responsibility, often excelling in environments where you can help others and lead by example.

Sun in the 7th House: Partnerships play a significant role in your life, and you seek recognition through your relationships. You may be drawn to influential partners, and your leadership qualities are likely to manifest in both business and marriage.

Sun in the 8th House: You are drawn to deep, transformative experiences and may have a strong interest in psychology, research, or the occult. Your strength often comes through managing crises or handling other people's resources, where your leadership shines in challenging situations.

Sun in the 9th House: You are passionate about expanding your horizons through philosophy, education, and travel. You may find success in teaching, publishing, or roles that allow you to influence others with your knowledge of different cultures and ideas.

Sun in the 10th House: Ambition drives you to seek leadership and authority in your career. You are highly focused on achieving public recognition and leaving a lasting legacy through your professional accomplishments.

Sun in the 11th House: Focused on long-term goals, you often work within large organizations or social causes. You thrive in group settings and are likely to gain recognition through your contributions to collective efforts, often taking on leadership roles within your community.

Sun in the 12th House: You may be inclined toward solitude, spirituality, or working behind the scenes. Your leadership qualities are expressed in more quiet, introspective ways, often finding fulfillment through helping others or pursuing spiritual growth.

𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐨 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠

In Vedic astrology, Virgo rising (Kanya Lagna) gives you a practical, analytical, and service-oriented nature. As a Virgo ascendant, you are detail-focused, methodical, and constantly striving for improvement in yourself and your surroundings. Known for your intellectual approach, you excel at organizing and refining everything you do. Your ruling planet is Mercury, which governs intellect, communication, and analytical thinking. The placement of Mercury in your chart will show how you process information, communicate, and manage your day-to-day responsibilities.

Possible Nakshatras:

Uttara Phalguni (2nd, 3rd, and 4th padas): You are responsible, hardworking, and focused on creating long-term success. Uttara Phalguni natives balance personal happiness with social responsibilities, and your generosity and dedication make you stand out in leadership and supportive roles.

Hasta: Resourceful and skilled, you have a natural talent for detail and craftsmanship. Hasta natives are adaptable and excellent problem-solvers, thriving in service-oriented or creative fields where precision is required.

Chitra (1st and 2nd padas): Charismatic and creative, Chitra natives are driven to make their mark on the world through beauty and artistic expression. You may excel in design, architecture, or any field that allows you to create something lasting and beautiful.

Mercury through the Houses:

Mercury in the 1st House: Highly intellectual and communicative, you possess a sharp mind and an analytical approach to life. You excel in fields that require critical thinking, such as writing, teaching, or problem-solving, and your curiosity keeps you engaged in constant learning.

Mercury in the 2nd House: Skilled in managing resources, you are practical and calculated when it comes to building wealth. Your communication abilities play a key role in your financial success, making you thrive in business, commerce, or public speaking.

Mercury in the 3rd House: You have a natural affinity for communication, writing, and intellectual exchange. A strong bond with siblings and peers is likely, and your quick thinking and adaptability make you well-suited for media, marketing, or any field that requires sharp mental agility.

Mercury in the 4th House: Your intellectual pursuits are centered around home and family life. You may find success in real estate, education, or home-based enterprises, using your sharp mind to create stability and security within your personal environment.

Mercury in the 5th House: Creative and intellectually curious, you enjoy engaging in teaching, the arts, or speculative ventures. You approach creativity with analysis and precision, making you an excellent mentor or academic guide to others.

Mercury in the 6th House: Highly organized and detail-oriented, you excel in problem-solving within work or health-related fields. Your practical nature helps you navigate daily responsibilities with ease, leading to success in administrative, healthcare, or service professions.

Mercury in the 7th House: Partnerships hold intellectual significance for you, and you seek mental stimulation in relationships. You may excel in consulting, law, or client-based services, where your analytical skills and clear communication are highly valued.

Mercury in the 8th House: You have a strong inclination toward research and uncovering hidden truths. Whether in finance, psychology, or healing, your intellectual depth allows you to solve complex problems and bring clarity to mysterious or transformative situations.

Mercury in the 9th House: Your intellectual curiosity drives you toward higher education, travel, and philosophical exploration. You may find success in teaching, publishing, or law, where your ability to break down complex ideas helps others understand new perspectives.

Mercury in the 10th House: Career-oriented and ambitious, you thrive in professions that demand intellect and analytical skills. Business, technology, or media are areas where your sharp mind shines, and your problem-solving abilities bring you recognition and success.

Mercury in the 11th House: You excel in social settings and collaborative environments, often finding success through networking and teamwork. Intellectual or technology-driven fields attract you, and you may thrive in roles that promote social change or collective goals.

Mercury in the 12th House: Reflective and introspective, you are drawn to deep research or spiritual pursuits. You find fulfillment working behind the scenes or in healing professions, using your analytical abilities to provide clarity and understanding to those in need.

𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠

In Vedic astrology, Libra rising (Tula Lagna) grants you a diplomatic, charming, and relationship-oriented personality. As a Libra ascendant, you have a natural inclination towards balance, harmony, and beauty, especially in how you relate to others. You seek fairness and often serve as a mediator, working to create peace and equality in your surroundings. Your ruling planet is Venus, which governs love, aesthetics, and harmony. The placement of Venus in your chart will illuminate how you approach relationships, beauty, and your pursuit of comfort and pleasure in life.

Possible Nakshatras:

Chitra (3rd and 4th padas): You are creative and charismatic, driven to leave your mark on the world through artistic expression. Chitra natives often excel in fields that require design, craftsmanship, or an appreciation for beauty and aesthetics.

Swati: Independence and adaptability define your nature. Swati natives are known for their grace and flexibility in overcoming life’s challenges, often succeeding in diplomacy, negotiation, and maintaining balance in difficult situations.

Vishakha (1st, 2nd, and 3rd padas): You are ambitious, focused, and determined to achieve your goals. Vishakha natives possess strong leadership qualities and thrive in roles that require perseverance, focus, and a relentless drive for success.

Venus through the Houses:

Venus in the 1st House: Your charm, grace, and natural attractiveness draw others to you. You place a high value on relationships and beauty, excelling in fields where diplomacy, creativity, or public relations are key elements of success.

Venus in the 2nd House: You prioritize material wealth and comfort, often using your creativity to build financial security. Success may come in areas related to luxury goods, finance, or the arts, and your refined taste adds value to your professional and personal pursuits.

Venus in the 3rd House: Creative communication is your strength, and you excel in writing, media, or other intellectual endeavors. Your relationships with siblings may be important, and you enjoy collaborating with others, exchanging ideas, and sharing artistic or intellectual projects.

Venus in the 4th House: Your home is a sanctuary of beauty and comfort, and you are deeply attached to family life. You may find success in real estate, interior design, or any career that involves creating harmonious environments that nurture both body and soul.

Venus in the 5th House: Romance, creativity, and self-expression play a central role in your life. You may excel in the arts, entertainment, or speculative ventures, and your romantic relationships are vital to your emotional well-being and personal development.

Venus in the 6th House: You bring a sense of beauty and balance to your work life, excelling in service-oriented professions. Careers related to health, wellness, or aesthetics suit you well, as you find ways to combine practicality with your refined sense of harmony.

Venus in the 7th House: Partnerships are the core of your life, and you seek love, harmony, and balance in your relationships. You are likely to excel in romantic and business partnerships that align with your values, and you may thrive in careers that require negotiation and diplomacy.

Venus in the 8th House: You are drawn to deep, transformative relationships, and your love life may be marked by intensity and passion. You may also find success in fields like finance, psychology, or research, where your exploration of the deeper aspects of life and relationships leads to growth.

Venus in the 9th House: Beauty and balance are themes in your pursuit of higher knowledge, philosophy, and travel. You may find fulfillment in teaching, writing, or exploring different cultures, where your appreciation for aesthetics and harmony broadens your understanding of the world.

Venus in the 10th House: Your career is likely to be focused on the arts, beauty, or diplomacy, and you strive for recognition in these areas. Fields like public relations, law, or creative industries may be especially fulfilling, as you work toward success with grace and poise.

Venus in the 11th House: You thrive in group settings, where your charm and diplomatic nature help you connect with others and achieve shared goals. You may find success in social causes, technology, or any career that involves networking, collaboration, and collective progress.

Venus in the 12th House: You are drawn to spirituality, art, or healing, often finding fulfillment in working behind the scenes. Your creativity and sensitivity may be expressed through charitable work, healing professions, or spiritual retreats, where you can use your gifts to help others find peace and comfort.

𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐨 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠

In Vedic astrology, those with Scorpio rising (Vrishchika Lagna) are characterized by their intense, magnetic, and determined nature. As a Scorpio ascendant, you are known for your emotional depth, resilience, and transformative energy. You approach life with a sense of intensity, seeking to uncover its deeper mysteries and hidden truths. Your ruling planet is Mars, representing action, courage, and vitality. The placement of Mars in your chart shows how you assert yourself, navigate challenges, and pursue your goals with laser focus and determination.

Possible Nakshatras:

Vishakha (4th pada): Ambitious and driven, you are focused on achieving your goals with perseverance. Vishakha natives excel in leadership and competitive environments, using their strong will and determination to succeed.

Anuradha: Loyal, compassionate, and deeply spiritual, Anuradha natives are skilled in forming strong, supportive partnerships. You balance power with grace and are known for your devotion to your personal and spiritual path.

Jyeshta: Authoritative, protective, and powerful, you have a natural instinct to control your surroundings. Jyeshta natives often take on leadership roles and possess a deep understanding of responsibility and authority.

Mars through the Houses:

Mars in the 1st House: You are assertive, confident, and have a commanding presence. Leadership comes naturally to you, and your courage and resilience help you overcome obstacles with determination. You face challenges head-on, unafraid to take risks.

Mars in the 2nd House: Your focus is on achieving financial security and stability. You excel in business, finance, or managing resources, approaching wealth-building with strategy and a strong determination to succeed materially.

Mars in the 3rd House: You are a dynamic communicator, excelling in fields like writing, media, or any domain requiring quick thinking. You thrive in intellectual competition and may have a strong, sometimes competitive, relationship with siblings.

Mars in the 4th House: Protective and nurturing, you are deeply invested in your home and family life. However, your intensity can sometimes create emotional tension, so finding a balance between control and compassion is key for harmonious relationships at home.

Mars in the 5th House: You are passionate about creativity and take bold risks in speculative ventures or artistic pursuits. Your romantic life is full of excitement and intensity, and you naturally assume leadership roles in creative or competitive settings.

Mars in the 6th House: Highly disciplined, you excel in work environments that involve service, health, or conflict resolution. Your strong work ethic and ability to confront challenges head-on ensure success in overcoming obstacles and achieving goals.

Mars in the 7th House: You are attracted to strong-willed, assertive partners, and your relationships are often marked by intensity and passion. While conflicts may arise, these challenges push you to grow, fostering deeper and more meaningful connections.

Mars in the 8th House: You are naturally drawn to life's deeper mysteries, and your career may involve research, psychology, or handling joint finances. Your ability to navigate crises with strength makes you a go-to person during challenging times of transformation.

Mars in the 9th House: Adventurous and curious, you are passionate about exploring new cultures, philosophies, and spiritual beliefs. You are driven to expand your knowledge and horizons, often through travel or higher education, seeking wisdom from life’s experiences.

Mars in the 10th House: Ambitious and career-driven, you often rise to leadership positions in your professional life. You thrive in competitive environments and have a relentless drive for success, making you highly respected in your chosen field.

Mars in the 11th House: A natural leader in group settings, you focus your energy on achieving long-term goals. You thrive in collaborative environments, especially in social or professional networks where collective success is the primary objective.

Mars in the 12th House: You are drawn to introspection and may find fulfillment in spiritual or healing professions. Working behind the scenes or in isolated environments suits you well, and you often use your energy to guide others through deep emotional or psychological challenges.

𝐒𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠

In Vedic astrology, Sagittarius rising (Dhanu Lagna) endows you with an optimistic, adventurous, and philosophical nature. As a Sagittarius ascendant, you have a strong drive for exploration, growth, and gaining a deeper understanding of life. You are constantly seeking knowledge and truth, often through travel, education, or spiritual pursuits. Your ruling planet is Jupiter, the planet of wisdom, expansion, and higher learning. Jupiter’s placement in your chart reveals how you strive for personal growth, broaden your horizons, and achieve success by living ethically and seeking wisdom.

Possible Nakshatras:

Mula: Intensely curious, you are driven to uncover the core truth of any matter. Mula natives have a deep connection to transformation and are known for their ability to let go of the past, seek deeper truths, and embrace renewal.

Purva Ashadha: Ambitious, creative, and determined, you focus on achieving your goals despite challenges. Purva Ashadha natives excel in leadership and social influence, using their resilience to rise above obstacles.

Uttara Ashadha (1st pada): Practical and focused on long-term success, Uttara Ashadha natives are known for their strong sense of duty and responsibility. You work diligently and achieve recognition through hard work, persistence, and dedication.

Jupiter through the Houses:

Jupiter in the 1st House: You radiate optimism, wisdom, and a sense of purpose, making you a natural leader and mentor. You influence others through your expansive knowledge and positive outlook, often taking on roles that inspire and guide others toward growth and understanding.

Jupiter in the 2nd House: You focus on creating financial security and material wealth through ethical means. Whether through teaching, advising, or religious pursuits, your ability to accumulate resources is supported by your wisdom and deep understanding of financial matters.

Jupiter in the 3rd House: Intellectually curious, you excel in communication, writing, or teaching. You enjoy sharing your insights with others, and your strong bond with siblings or peers is likely to be centered on intellectual or philosophical exchanges.

Jupiter in the 4th House: Emotional fulfillment comes from your home and family. You may be drawn to careers in real estate, education, or offering guidance to others. Creating a stable, nurturing environment for yourself and loved ones brings you peace and satisfaction.

Jupiter in the 5th House: You are highly creative and find joy in self-expression, education, and mentoring. Whether through teaching, raising children, or engaging in intellectual pursuits, you experience fulfillment in nurturing creativity and growth in others.

Jupiter in the 6th House: Service is central to your life’s purpose, and you excel in professions related to health, wellness, or law. You have a talent for resolving conflicts and offering guidance in difficult situations, often rising to positions of authority and respect.

Jupiter in the 7th House: Partnerships—both personal and professional—are key to your growth. You seek relationships based on intellectual and spiritual connections, and you may excel in fields such as law, consulting, or diplomacy, where your wisdom helps resolve disputes.

Jupiter in the 8th House: You are drawn to transformative fields such as psychology, research, or financial management. Your deep insights allow you to manage joint resources or navigate crises with wisdom, turning challenges into opportunities for growth.

Jupiter in the 9th House: You are passionate about higher education, philosophy, and spirituality, often finding success in teaching, publishing, or international travel. Sharing your knowledge and expanding your horizons brings fulfillment, and you inspire others to do the same.

Jupiter in the 10th House: Your career focuses on leadership, education, or guiding others through wisdom. You often rise to prominent positions in fields like law, education, or religion, where your ability to lead with ethics and integrity earns you recognition and respect.

Jupiter in the 11th House: You thrive in group settings and collaborative efforts, often succeeding through networking and collective projects. You are drawn to humanitarian or community-driven causes and work to achieve long-term goals that create positive social impact.

Jupiter in the 12th House: Introspective and spiritually inclined, you find fulfillment in charitable or healing professions. You excel in fields that require solitude, deep reflection, or spiritual guidance, and your wisdom makes you a source of comfort for others in times of crisis.

𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠

In Vedic astrology, Capricorn rising (Makara Lagna) bestows a disciplined, ambitious, and responsible nature. As a Capricorn ascendant, you are deeply focused on long-term success and stability, often working with patience and determination to reach your goals. You value hard work, structure, and perseverance, understanding that success often comes through sustained effort and sacrifice. Your ruling planet is Saturn, symbolizing discipline, endurance, and the lessons learned through challenges. The placement of Saturn in your chart will indicate how you handle responsibilities, face obstacles, and steadily build your life over time.

Possible Nakshatras:

Uttara Ashadha (2nd, 3rd, and 4th padas): Practical, dedicated, and hardworking, you are focused on long-term success. Uttara Ashadha natives are known for their strong sense of duty and ability to rise to positions of leadership through perseverance.

Shravana: Wise, attentive, and detail-oriented, Shravana natives excel in learning and communication. You may find success in fields that involve listening, observation, and intellectual growth, often using your knowledge to guide others.

Dhanishta (1st and 2nd padas): Ambitious and resourceful, you have a natural talent for managing resources and leading others. Dhanishta natives often excel in business, finance, or leadership roles, driven by a desire for material success and achievement.

Saturn through the Houses:

Saturn in the 1st House: You possess a serious, mature, and responsible demeanor, often taking on leadership roles early in life. Your disciplined nature helps you overcome challenges with resilience, and you are known for your patience and ability to work toward long-term goals.

Saturn in the 2nd House: Building financial security is a priority for you, often achieved through hard work and careful financial planning. You may face financial challenges in your early years, but your persistence and discipline ensure material success later in life.

Saturn in the 3rd House: A careful and thoughtful communicator, you prefer to plan your words and actions. You may excel in writing, teaching, or fields that require patience and precision, achieving success through careful effort and attention to detail.

Saturn in the 4th House: Your connection to home and family is strong, though you may face responsibilities or challenges in these areas. Over time, through hard work, you create a stable and secure domestic environment, often improving family conditions through perseverance.

Saturn in the 5th House: You take a disciplined and cautious approach to creativity, romance, and speculative ventures. While not impulsive in these areas, your steady and serious attitude leads to long-term success, particularly in teaching or guiding others creatively.

Saturn in the 6th House: Hardworking and service-oriented, you excel in fields that require discipline, precision, and a focus on routine tasks. Success in health, law, administration, or any field that demands attention to detail is likely to come through sustained effort.

Saturn in the 7th House: Your relationships are serious and committed, though you may face delays or challenges in forming long-lasting partnerships. You seek stable, dependable connections, and your disciplined approach often leads to enduring, successful unions.

Saturn in the 8th House: You are drawn to areas involving deep transformation, research, or financial management, particularly in dealing with joint resources or inheritance. Though you may face challenges in these areas, your resilience allows you to overcome difficulties and emerge stronger.

Saturn in the 9th House: Dedicated to higher learning, philosophy, or spirituality, you take a disciplined approach to expanding your knowledge. Recognition in teaching, law, or religious fields may come through your long-term focus and commitment to mastering your chosen field.

Saturn in the 10th House: Career success is a central theme in your life, and you are determined to rise to leadership positions. Through perseverance and hard work, you often gain authority and recognition in your professional endeavors, thriving in roles that demand responsibility.

Saturn in the 11th House: Focused on achieving long-term aspirations, you work hard to build strong social networks and group connections. Although you may face delays or challenges in reaching your goals, your disciplined and persistent approach ensures success in large organizations or group efforts.

Saturn in the 12th House: Introspective and drawn to spiritual or healing professions, you may work in isolation or behind the scenes. Your patient and disciplined nature allows you to contribute meaningfully through charitable work, spiritual guidance, or in helping others in subtle but impactful ways.

𝐀𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠

In Vedic astrology, Aquarius rising (Kumbha Lagna) imbues you with a visionary, intellectual, and socially conscious character. As an Aquarius ascendant, you are driven by the desire to contribute to the greater good, often focusing on humanitarian causes and societal progress. Known for your innovative thinking and forward-looking approach, you value knowledge, social reform, and collective well-being. Saturn, your ruling planet, represents structure, discipline, and long-term goals. The placement of Saturn in your chart highlights how you channel your ideals into tangible accomplishments, guided by discipline and perseverance.

Possible Nakshatras:

Dhanishta (3rd and 4th padas): Ambitious and resourceful, you excel in managing resources and networks effectively. Dhanishta natives are known for their leadership abilities and focus on achieving material success, often through disciplined efforts.

Shatabhishak: Intellectual, independent, and driven by humanitarian ideals, Shatabhishak natives are natural healers and innovators. You explore unconventional paths and seek to bring about transformation through knowledge, technology, and social reform.

Purva Bhadrapada (1st pada): Philosophical and idealistic, you are focused on higher spiritual or intellectual pursuits. Purva Bhadrapada natives aim to initiate positive change, often using wisdom and transformative actions to achieve lasting impact.

Saturn through the Houses:

Saturn in the 1st House: You are serious, responsible, and self-disciplined, often exuding a maturity beyond your years. Your strong sense of purpose leads you to take on leadership roles, particularly in social or humanitarian causes, where your dedication and patience pave the way for long-term success.

Saturn in the 2nd House: Your focus is on achieving financial security through careful planning and disciplined saving. You may accumulate wealth slowly but steadily, ensuring long-term stability by adhering to a cautious and methodical approach to material gains.

Saturn in the 3rd House: You are disciplined in communication, often excelling in writing, teaching, or intellectual work. Learning and skill development come through patience and persistence, and you may take on significant responsibilities with siblings or close peers.

Saturn in the 4th House: Challenges or responsibilities may arise related to home and family life, but you are committed to creating a stable and secure environment. Through hard work and sacrifice, you eventually build a solid foundation for yourself and your loved ones.

Saturn in the 5th House: In creative endeavors, romance, or speculative ventures, your approach is cautious and disciplined. Although you may face delays or obstacles, your methodical nature ensures that your efforts lead to long-term success, particularly in guiding or teaching others.

Saturn in the 6th House: You excel in service-oriented or health-related professions, where attention to detail and discipline are essential. Challenges in your work environment or health may arise, but your perseverance enables you to overcome obstacles and succeed through persistence.

Saturn in the 7th House: Relationships and partnerships are serious and long-lasting, though you may encounter delays in forming connections. You seek stable, committed unions, and your disciplined approach to relationships ensures enduring and meaningful bonds.

Saturn in the 8th House: You are drawn to deep, transformative experiences, often involving joint resources, inheritance, or crises. Your methodical approach to these intense areas of life helps you navigate challenges, leading to personal growth and strength through adversity.

Saturn in the 9th House: Higher learning, philosophy, and spirituality are areas of deep interest, and you approach them with dedication and discipline. Recognition or success in academic, legal, or religious fields may come through long-term commitment to your intellectual or spiritual pursuits.

Saturn in the 10th House: Career is a primary focus for you, and you rise to positions of authority through hard work and perseverance. Leadership roles suit you well, as you thrive in structured environments where discipline, organization, and long-term planning are valued.

Saturn in the 11th House: Your focus is on achieving long-term aspirations and building strong social networks. Though you may face delays or challenges in reaching your goals, your disciplined approach ensures eventual success, especially in community or humanitarian efforts.

Saturn in the 12th House: You are introspective and may be drawn to spiritual, healing, or charitable work. Working behind the scenes or in isolation allows you to contribute meaningfully to society, using your patience and discipline to help others through service or quiet dedication.

𝐏𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠

In Vedic astrology, Pisces rising (Meena Lagna) imparts a compassionate, imaginative, and spiritually inclined nature. As a Pisces ascendant, your intuition and sensitivity drive your actions, and you often seek deeper meaning in life. You are idealistic, empathetic, and naturally drawn to creative or spiritual pursuits. Jupiter, your ruling planet, governs wisdom, growth, and expansion, guiding you in your quest for knowledge, spiritual understanding, and personal development. The placement of Jupiter in your chart reveals how you grow intellectually and spiritually while helping others on their journey.

Possible Nakshatras:

Purva Bhadrapada (2nd, 3rd, and 4th padas): Idealistic and philosophical, you are focused on spiritual transformation and making a meaningful impact on the world. Purva Bhadrapada natives often work toward creating lasting change through wisdom and altruism.

Uttara Bhadrapada: Calm, composed, and deeply spiritual, Uttara Bhadrapada natives bring stability and balance to their lives. You are focused on attaining inner peace and wisdom, often seeking emotional and spiritual harmony.

Revati: Compassionate, nurturing, and imaginative, Revati natives have a strong connection to the arts and spirituality. You excel in roles that involve healing, creativity, or guiding others, often bringing care and emotional support to those around you.

Jupiter through the Houses:

Jupiter in the 1st House: You are naturally optimistic, wise, and generous, with a strong sense of purpose. Your philosophical and spiritual outlook on life often inspires others, and you may find yourself in leadership roles where you can guide and uplift people through your compassion.

Jupiter in the 2nd House: Focused on building wealth through ethical means, you use your wisdom to create material security. You may find success in fields related to finance, education, or spiritual guidance, and your generosity often leads to prosperity.

Jupiter in the 3rd House: Your intellectual curiosity drives you to excel in communication-based professions such as writing or teaching. You love sharing your knowledge and often inspire others with your deep insights and broad perspectives.

Jupiter in the 4th House: Emotional fulfillment comes from home and family life, where you create a nurturing environment. You may be drawn to careers in real estate, education, or caregiving, using your compassionate nature to bring stability and support to others.

Jupiter in the 5th House: You are passionate about creativity, education, and mentoring. Your love for learning and sharing knowledge leads to success in teaching or guiding others, especially in creative or academic settings where you can inspire growth and development.

Jupiter in the 6th House: Service and healing are central to your life, and you excel in professions related to health and wellness. Your wisdom and practical approach to problem-solving make you a valuable asset in any work environment, particularly those focused on helping others.

Jupiter in the 7th House: Relationships are deeply meaningful to you, and you seek spiritual and intellectual connections with your partners. Success may come through careers in law, consulting, or diplomacy, where your wisdom and ethical approach are highly valued.

Jupiter in the 8th House: You are drawn to profound research and transformation, excelling in areas like psychology, finance, or healing. Your ability to guide others through times of crisis or personal transformation makes you a powerful source of support during difficult periods.

Jupiter in the 9th House: Passionate about philosophy, higher education, and spiritual growth, you excel in teaching, publishing, or religious fields. Your love for sharing knowledge and exploring new ideas allows you to inspire others on their path to enlightenment.

Jupiter in the 10th House: Your career revolves around leadership, teaching, or spiritual guidance, and you often rise to prominence through your wisdom and ethical practices. You thrive in roles where you can lead and mentor others, helping them achieve their potential.

Jupiter in the 11th House: You are social and enjoy working with organizations or groups focused on humanitarian or spiritual causes. Your long-term goals often involve making a positive impact on society, and you find success through collaborative efforts and shared ideals.

Jupiter in the 12th House: Drawn to spirituality, introspection, or charitable work, you often excel in fields that involve healing or solitude. Your deep understanding of life’s mysteries makes you a powerful guide for others, especially during times of emotional or spiritual crisis.

Masterlist - YouTube (subliminals)

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reasonsforhope · 6 days

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"Despite the Central Appalachia ecosystem being historically famous as coal country, under this diverse broadleaf canopy lies a rich, biodiverse world of native plants helping to fill North America’s medicinal herb cabinet.

And it turns out that the very communities once reliant on the coalfields are now bringing this botanical diversity to the country.

“Many different Appalachian people, stretching from pre-colonization to today, have tended, harvested, sold, and used a vast number of forest botanicals like American ginseng, ramps, black cohosh, and goldenseal,” said Shannon Bell, Virginia Tech professor in the Dept. of Sociology. “These plants have long been integral to many Appalachians’ livelihoods and traditions.”

50% of the medicinal herbs, roots, and barks in the North American herbal supply chain are native to the Appalachian Mountains, and the bulk of these species are harvested or grown in Central Appalachia, which includes southern West Virginia, eastern Kentucky, far-southwest Virginia, and east Tennessee.

The United Plant Savers, a nonprofit with a focus on native medicinal plants and their habitats, has identified many of the most popular forest medicinals as species of concern due to their declining populations.

Along with the herbal supply chain being largely native to Appalachia, the herb gatherers themselves are also native [to Appalachia, not Native American specifically], but because processing into medicine and seasonings takes place outside the region, the majority of the profits from the industry do too.

In a press release on Bell’s superb research and advocacy work within Appalachia’s botanical communities, she refers back to the moment that her interest in the industry and the region sprouted; when like many of us, she was out in a nearby woods waiting out the pandemic.

“My family and I spent a lot of time in the woods behind our house during quarantine,” Bell said. “We observed the emergence of all the spring ephemerals in the forest understory – hepatica, spring beauty, bloodroot, trillium, mayapple. I came to appreciate the importance of the region’s botanical biodiversity more than ever, and realized I wanted to incorporate this new part of my life into my research.”

With co-investigator, John Munsell at VA Tech’s College of Natural Resources and Environment, Bell’s project sought to identify ways that Central Appalachian communities could retain more of the profits from the herbal industry while simultaneously ensuring that populations of at-risk forest botanicals not only survive, but thrive and expand in the region.

Bell conducted participant observation and interviews with wild harvesters and is currently working on a mail survey with local herb buyers. She also piloted a ginseng seed distribution program, and helped a wild harvester write a grant proposal to start a forest farm.

“Economic development in post-coal communities often focuses on other types of energy development, like fracking and natural gas pipelines, or on building prisons and landfills. Central Appalachia is one of the most biodiverse places on the planet. I think that placing a greater value on this biodiversity is key to promoting a more sustainable future for the region,” Bell told VA Tech press.

Armed with a planning grant of nearly half a million dollars, Bell and collaborators are specifically targeting forest farming as a way to achieve that sustainable future.

Finally, enlisting support from the nonprofit organization Appalachian Sustainable Development, Virginia Tech, the City of Norton, a sculpture artist team, and various forest botanicals practitioners in her rolodex, Bell organized the creation of a ‘living monument’ along Flag Rock Recreation Area in Norton, Virginia.

An interpretive trail, the monument tells the story of the historic uses that these wild botanicals had for the various societies that have inhabited Appalachia, and the contemporary value they still hold for people today."

-via Good News Network, September 12, 2024

#appalachia #united states #biodiversity #herbs #herbal medicine #herbalism #native plants #conservation #sustainability #sustainable agriculture #solarpunk #good news #hope

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luxaofhesperides · 7 months

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Can I please have meet cute/weird with mistaken villain! Danny (but really just a engineer and or chem student) and the one being put on investigation cause Danny is a day villain(not really)! Duke

Technically, Danny Fenton is innocent. Technically.

Duke wants to give him the benefit of the doubt, especially since he’s having so much trouble finding solid evidence that Danny is stealing from a wide variety of people, but he’s been burned before by trying to see people as better than they were. It doesn’t change the fact that Oracle’s cameras keep spotting Danny right before a building on the street is broken into and something stolen. He’s always just walking down the sidewalk; no one has spotted him entering or exiting a building, but he’s around far too often to be unconnected to these burglaries.

It doesn’t help that strange, petty crimes have been on the rise since Danny first arrived in Gotham.

So.

Danny Fenton is technically innocent.

Duke is trying to prove that he’s not.

Maybe I’m looking too closely, he thinks, going over Danny’s sparse file in the Hatch. Maybe Danny’s only one person in a bigger operation.

He could just be the lookout, the runner, the information gatherer who marks which buildings to hit. He may even be the scapegoat, the sacrificial lamb; Danny has no support in Gotham, no family, no job. There would be no one to help him if he got arrested or injured in a fight. He’s a freshman college student from Illinois who should be unprepared for life in Gotham but is somehow managing to survive like a native.

There’s a lot about Danny that doesn’t add up.

Duke has seen plenty of different people since he first went out as the Signal. He’s tried to be kind and give people the benefit of the doubt, but it leads to his loved ones being put in danger. Some people are truly evil, some working on a malicious agenda, some are misguided in their beliefs, and some are desperate people who see no other way to move forward.

He’s not sure yet which on Danny is, but he’s hoping Danny is just desperate and needs a little help to get out of a life of crime.

Which leads to the next problem: Duke has no idea what Danny is steal, or why. He hits both rich and poor folks, civilians and members of the mob, and once, notably, stole something right out of Cobblepot’s office. Allegedly, at least, since no one saw him enter or exit the office, not even the security cameras.

But added to the whispers going around about a new group in Gotham snatching people up from the streets, and some strange green substances found in warehouses often raided by police for the frequent drug labs that pop up in them…

It doesn’t look good for Danny. Especially when a few of the items he stole were found where people either vanished or where that green substance has been found.

A week of analysis in the Batcave and they still don’t know what it is.

Both Damian and Jason suspected Lazarus water, but the composition was completely different. By the look of the molecular structure, it shouldn’t have been in a liquid form at all.

All these findings lead back to one person who may have answers: Danny Fenton.

According to Tim, who’s already broken into Danny’s dorm room and checked over all the labs he has classes in, Danny has some concerning items in his possession. Various inventions and little metal knick-knacks put together by a practiced hand. He was also the one to find all the information that went into Danny’s file when it was first being made: social media posts, school report cards, news articles about his parents… everything.

And then he had an emergency mission to take with the Titans that swept him out of Gotham leaving Duke to tackle this investigation on his own.

He doesn’t have Tim’s natural skill in stalking and invading privacy. He hates breaking into people’s spaces and following them around, but needs must and he has to force himself to work through the discomfort.

It’s a good thing he did, too. Danny’s leaving his dorm after his last afternoon class, hood up to hide his face and something held in the front pocket of his hoodie. He ducks around people on the sidewalk easily, almost as if he’s gliding through the crowd instead of walking.

Duke follows from above, bending the light around him to hide him from sight.

He walks for some time, weaving through alleys and streets as if he’s been in Gotham his whole life, leaving behind the university campus to head towards Otisberg. There’s something strange about the way Danny walks, as if he’s moving around people who aren’t there, guided by something Duke can’t hear. Even using his meta abilities doesn’t do much beyond show him where Danny’s going to be in the next few seconds.

He continues to follow Danny on the rooftops, walking along the edge to keep him in sight.

Then Danny stops behind an apartment building and tilts his head back to look up at it. He tilts his head to the side, then nods and looks around the empty alley. Duke crouches down, keeping his eyes on Danny in the hopes of catching him in the act—

Danny disappears.

Duke curses under his breath and jumps down from the roof, putting more strength into his abilities as soon as his feet touch the ground.

The space where Danny was has a faint outline, oddly enough. He’s never seen that before. From it is a semi-transparent trail, smoke-like and a pale green leading into the building. It goes straight into a wall, as if Danny walked through it.

He can’t go in and search the entire apartment, but he can grapple up and take a look into the hallways to see where Danny’s heading. If he was looking up, then that’s where he should be heading.

It doesn’t take any effort to scale the building. There are ledges and windowsills and plenty of handholds for him to propel himself off of, and paired with his powers, Duke is able to find the correct floor in just under two minutes.

The green smoke slowly dances through the air of the ninth floor, on the east side of the building. If he’s been counting the rooms correctly, then the target of tonight’s burglary has to be apartment 924.

The curtains are drawn on the window he makes his way over to, and his abilities don’t show him anything helpful for the immediate future. He hates going in blind, especially to a civilian’s home, but capturing Danny takes priority. Duke picks the lock and slides the window up slowly, making sure it stays quiet, then slips into an empty bedroom.

He makes his way out into the hallway on silent feet, keeping a wary eye on the thin smoke strands of green, curling along the walls. The rest of the apartment is empty as well, pale sunlight slanting across the floor through the blinds.

Everything is still and silent. Danny’s nowhere to be found.

Did he miss Danny leaving, somehow? Was this a misdirect to get him out of the way while Danny stole from another location? Did he know Duke was following him?

But no, his ears pick up on the faint sound of clothes rustling.

Cautiously, Duke turns towards the front door, where the door to the coat closet is open. He focuses on what’s going to happen in the next twenty seconds and sees Danny panic, then disappear from sight again, but a transparent outline of his body is visible just enough to show him where he runs to. Best not to spook him; Duke pulls at the light around him and bends it to hide him from sight.

Then he moves along the wall, getting around the open door without bumping into anyone or anything.

A figure in front of the coats, shoving them to the side roughly, flickers in and out of view, almost like a reflection in water, distorted by ripples on the surface.

Danny pops back into visibility suddenly, scowling at the coats. “Are you sure it’s in here?” he asks the empty air.

There is no answer, but Danny acts like there is. He rolls his eyes and says, “It’s a favor. That I’m doing for you. I can literally stop right now and you wouldn’t be able to stop me.” He shoves aside another heavy winter coat, then sighs. “Why don’t you look for it, and then tell me where it is.”

He steps back and bumps into Duke.

Danny whirls around, eyes wide, and blast of green light has Duke crashing back into the wall, trying to blink spots out of his eyes.

“Wait!” he yells, grabbing for Danny before he can run off. “I just wanna talk!”

“Standing right behind me like a serial killer does not make you look like someone who wants to talk!” Danny yells back, slipping through his hands like mist.

“I just have a few questions!”

“Well, I have a question: why?!”

“Will you hold still, we’re being too loud!”

Danny escapes to the other side of the apartment, next to a window looking fully prepared to fling himself out of it. But he does stop yelling, so Duke is counting it as a success.

“Why is the Signal coming after me?” Danny asks, glaring at him suspiciously.

“Dude,” Duke says, “You’ve been seen outside of every single building that’s had a burglary since you first arrived in Gotham. All the Bats are after you, they just sent me because I’m the only one active during the day.”

“All the Bats?” Danny repeats, losing what little color he had in his face.

He looks legitimately scared, pale enough to be concerning, and Duke drops his guard and tries to relax the tension in the apartment. “I’m not gonna turn you into the cops or anything. I just had questions and you seem like the most likely person to have answers. That’s it.”

Danny still looks wary, ready to run at a moment’s notice, but he doesn’t leave when Duke approached casually, leaning his weight against the couch.

“So,” he begins, “What’s the deal with all the thievery? It’s rarely something super rare or expensive.”

There’s a long few minutes where Danny doesn’t answer, looking anywhere but at Duke. Then he twitches a bit and glares off to the side, and says, “I taking items that are contaminated with ectoplasm to help ghosts move through the veil and leave Gotham.”

That tells him nothing! That just gives Duke more questions! But at least it’s an answer, the first one any of them have got.

“I think you’re gonna have to explain a little more.”

“Ghosts are real, alright?”

“Yes.”

Danny stops. Squints at him. “What do you mean, ‘yes’?”

“Ghosts are real,” Duke repeats, “There are a few who help heroes or are heroes themselves, but that’s more on the magic side of things so I’m not super familiar with it.”

“Magic,” Danny says slowly. “Sure, alright. Um. Yes, ghosts are real. And there are a ton in Gotham who need help moving on, but they’re too weak to get past the veil. Something about Gotham has made the veil super strong, so they need a little boost to get through. Additional ectoplasm bonded helps with that.”

“And that’s why you’re stealing random things?”

“The ghosts I help can kind of sense ectoplasm-infused things, but they need me to grab them since they can’t hold anything without a physical body.”

Duke nods slowly. “Okay, that’s starting to answer some things. We have found those objects in the last places missing people were seen. Any idea what’s going on with that?”

“Yeah, those people were already dead.”

The way Danny says the most concerning answers as if they’re nothing is really throwing Duke off his game. He was expecting to be calm and serious to keep Danny from freaking out too much and look like a legitimate hero. But as soon as Danny started talking, all his nerves fell away and Duke is left grasping for composure.

“They were…”

“They were ghosts, yeah. And they needed to get through the veil. But they were also able to possess their own bodies and didn’t realize they were dead until I had to break the news to them, which is why it looks like living people just up and disappeared.”

“Okay… What about the green stuff we’ve been finding?”

“Ectoplasm.” Danny holds up a hand and a neon green light surrounds it. Except it looks more solid than light, as if it can be touched, and it moves on its own like fire around Danny’s fingers. “It’s what ghosts are made of.”

Oh. If Danny has ectoplasm, does that mean…

“Are you dead?” Duke asks, heart dropping.

Instead of looking upset about the question, or even disturbed by it, Danny just shrugs and waves his hand back and forth. “A little.”

“Okay, so let me get this straight,” Duke says, trying to resist the urge to rub his temples. It’s a habit he didn’t mean to pick up from Batman, and it would just look silly with his helmet in the way. “You’re just doing all this to help ghosts?”

“Yeah. Basically. They asked for help man, of course I was going to help them.”

Danny’s a good person. He’s just a good person to ghosts. But this is good news either way, and he can let the others know that Danny isn’t the next Catwoman and is entirely unconnected from any drug production. Everything that made him look like a criminal is just the fault of ghosts.

“Speaking of,” Danny continues, “Looks like they found what they need, so I’m going to grab that real quick.” He pushes off of the wall and heads for the closet again, moving past Duke without any fear. Duke follows, keeping a few feet of distance between them so Danny doesn’t feel trapped, and watches as he shoves aside the coats again and pulls a shoebox out of the depths of the closet. From it, he takes a single intricate lace headband and holds it up.

It looks normal, if a little old, but when Danny sends ectoplasm through it, the lace lights up and holds the glow.

He pulls some strange contraption out of his pocket and holds it up to the headband. It makes a few beeps, then Danny mutters, “7.4 millisieverts. That’s enough to get you through the veil.”

Another concern Duke can let go of: Danny’s not creating weapons like his parents have, he’s just measuring ectoplasm through his own inventions.

Maybe he could talk to Bruce or Tim about getting Danny an internship at the R&D lab in Wayne Enterprises? That way they could keep a closer eye on him while seeing what he can create in some of the best laboratories in the country.

Well, it might take having them meet Danny before they trust him enough for that, but Duke is sure he can make it happen.

“I better go see this through, then,” Danny says, shoving the contraption back into his hoodie pocket. He gives Duke a small awkward wave, then pops out of visibility. “I’ll see you around, I guess?” he disembodied voice hedges, and Duke smiles.

“I’m sure I’ll be able to find you again.”

“Cool. I gonna go now!”

He doesn’t see any sign that Danny’s left, but he gets a feeling that he’s alone now, the apartment suddenly emptier than it was before.

As strange and concerning as Danny and all his bizarre actions were, Duke is glad he was able to finally talk to him and get some answers. Knowing how Gotham pulls people him in, it’s only a matter of time before the other Bats are exposed to Danny’s kind of strange. He’s already looking forward to it.

For now, though, he has a file to update in the Hatch; POTENTIAL THREAT will be removed and replaced with GHOST HELPER.

If anyone goes snooping into his files and gets confused, then that’s their problem. Duke’s explained enough. And Danny can take care of the rest, once they go through the effort of tracking him down. Duke's done his part, he's ready for the rest of them to step up to his level.

He can’t wait to see what other kind of trouble Danny can get it into.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #prompt fill #my writing #could not do a meet cute/weird in this prompt so i made it a meet disaster lol #heres danny trying to focus on his education!! and then ghosts start popping up asking for help bc gotham wont let them leave #so danny has to make a few contraptions to be able to help them (mostly ecto tracking/measuring/containing) and it looks SOOO sus #the ghosts also have a weak ecto sense which is how they find him bc hes FULL of ecto #and that means hes robbing houses during the day/late evening bc the night is for homework and stress #duke is just... trying his best lol.#sorry if the last part of this is rushed or confusing i am slightly sick and can Not focus #anyways i hope u enjoy!!#thanks for the prompt!!

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floridaboiler · 2 months

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20 Unspoken Rules for Men:

1. Never shake a hand sitting down.

Standing up shows respect and engagement. It signifies that you value the person you are meeting and are fully present in the interaction.

2. Protect who is behind you, and respect who is beside you.

This emphasizes loyalty and honor. Protecting those behind you means safeguarding your family, friends, and teammates. Respecting those beside you signifies recognizing the equality and value of your peers.

3. Never insult the cooking when you are the guest.

Showing gratitude and respect for hospitality is essential. Criticizing the cooking is disrespectful and ungrateful, especially when someone has gone out of their way to host you.

4. Never eat the last piece of something you didn't buy.

This rule underscores courtesy and consideration for others. It demonstrates awareness and respect for shared resources and the contributions of others.

5. Never make the first offer in a negotiation.

Letting the other party make the first offer can provide strategic advantages. It gives you insight into their expectations and can help you negotiate better terms.

6. Don't take credit for work you didn't do.

Integrity in acknowledging others' efforts is crucial. Taking undue credit undermines trust and damages your credibility.

7. Take the blame, and give credit when due.

Owning up to mistakes and recognizing others' contributions builds respect and trust. It shows maturity and leadership.

8. If you are not invited, don't ask to go.

Respecting boundaries and invitations is key to maintaining good social etiquette. It avoids awkward situations and respects the host’s intentions.

9. Always aim for the head.

This metaphorical rule can apply to many scenarios, implying that you should strive for excellence and precision in your efforts.

10. Don't beg for a relationship.

Self-respect and dignity are important. Desperation can lead to unhealthy dynamics and undervalues your worth.

11. Dress well no matter what the occasion.

Good grooming and dressing appropriately show respect for yourself and others. It also boosts confidence and makes a positive impression.

12. Always carry cash.

Being prepared for various situations, including emergencies, is practical. It reflects foresight and responsibility.

13. Listen, nod, and most of all make eye contact.

Active listening and non-verbal engagement are crucial for effective communication. They show that you value and are attentive to the speaker.

14. Show restraint in expressing anger, no matter what. Being angry is a waste of energy.

Managing anger is vital for maintaining composure and making rational decisions. It prevents regrettable actions and fosters a more positive environment.

15. Whether it's dinner, drinks, or both, avoid placing your phone on the dinner table.

Prioritizing face-to-face interactions over digital distractions shows respect and attentiveness to those present.

16. Never pose with alcohol.

Maintaining a responsible image is important. Posing with alcohol can convey unprofessionalism or recklessness.

17. Proper grammar will get you far in life. Leave the foul language for the less educated.

Good communication skills, including proper grammar, enhance your credibility and professionalism. Avoiding foul language shows respect and maturity.

18. Ask more than you answer.

Showing interest in others by asking questions fosters better relationships and understanding. It also demonstrates humility and a willingness to learn.

19. You can tell a great deal about a person by their handshake, so make yours strong and firm.

A firm handshake conveys confidence and sincerity. It is often the first impression you make, so it’s important to get it right.

20. Speak honestly. Say what you mean and mean what you say.

Honesty builds trust and integrity. It involves being truthful and consistent, fostering deeper connections and mutual respect. Speaking honestly also means balancing truth with empathy and tact, ensuring that your words are respectful and considerate.

#Deep Thoughts #Positive Vibes #Motivation #Not Mine #20 Unspoken Rules for Men

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writer-in-theory · 2 years

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"It's a wonder Steve's survived this long, Jesus H. Christ," Eddie hissed.

Eddie hasn't stopped pacing the hospital waiting room ever since Steve was taken back for 'testing'. The doctors had listed out various scans but there were too many acronyms to keep track of. All Eddie knew was that Steve had been hiding his pain for at least a day, maybe longer, until he collapsed at work with Robin.

That was the second worst call Eddie had ever gotten in his life.

"Harrington?" the doctor called out then, holding onto a metal clipboard tightly and looking around the busy emergency room. In an instant Eddie was on his feet, practically sprinting to where the doctor was standing.

"How is he, doc? Get to keep all his fingers?" He wanted to joke, but the words fell flat in the sterility of the room. The last time he'd been here had been after...No. The Upside Down had long since been closed off from their world and Vecna was disintegrated into that weird otherworldly ash. It was over.

"Are you family?"

Nancy and Robin had prepped him for this one, too. In everything but the law, Eddie and Steve were husbands. They'd had a wedding with Robin and Dustin as their Best (Wo)Men and Wayne as their officiant, in the middle of the night where no one would notice but them. They'd celebrated their fifth anniversary two weeks ago, they were the loves of each others' lives. But to the government, to this doctor, they weren't anything but friends who shared a bed. Fuck the nineties.

"Yeah, he's my brother-in-law," Eddie answered, knowing when Nancy showed up they could pass this lie off decently. "How's Steve doing?"

The doctor gave him a long look, but otherwise nodded and rechecked his clipboard. "Mr. Harrington is getting prepped for emergency surgery, currently, as he's s—"

"Emergency surgery? What do you mean surgery?" Already Eddie could feel the tell-tale warning signs of panic as his heart began to race and his palms got sweaty. Surgery wasn't good. They weren't supposed to do this. No more hospitals, no more surgeries, no more 'wait and see's. They'd promised after last time, Steve promised.

"Sir," the doctor pushed, looking more irritated than concerned. "This is a routine procedure, we see it all the time. Mr. Harrington has a case of appendicitis, pretty bad by the looks of it. Has he been feeling any pain lately?"

"Yeah, yeah the bastard has," Eddie hissed, not sure if he was about to laugh or cry. Appendicitis. Fucking appendicitis. He'd had that as a kid, he still remembered all the popsicles and ice creams Uncle Wayne let him have in the days after, cooped up in the trailer watching boring TV shows while all his friends were at school. "Is he already in surgery? Can I see him?"

"He's being prepped, but you can see him. We gave him some medication to calm him down and ease his pain, so Mr. Harrington may be...out of it," the doctor warned as he led Eddie through the maze of hallways behind the front desk. "Next time, let your brother-in-law know he shouldn't ignore this kind of pain."

"Oh don't you worry, doc, I'll make sure to pass on the message," Eddie answered, practically glaring at the closed hospital room door. Fucking appendicitis and Steve had ignored it, passed it off as a pulled muscle after a run.

Seeing Steve in a hospital bed didn't get any easier, though it was hard to be angry or scared when the man's head lolled across the pillow to reveal a brilliant, out-of-it smile Eddie had never seen before. "Eddie!" Steve cooed, reaching his arms out for the other man.

Eddie couldn't help but laugh, crossing the distance quickly so he could press Steve's arms back to the bed. "Hey, c'mon now, Harrington, don't wanna pull that IV line out."

"Did they tell you they're stealing my organ? They're stealing it, Eds!"

"It's a pretty useless one anyway, you won't even miss it."

Steve's face scrunched up at that, like he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. "How dare you! Of course I'll notice one of my little guys got separated! What if he gets lonely?"

"You're..." Eddie tried not to laugh, if only because he's sure that'll make Steve fly off the handle even further. He scrubbed a hand across his tired face, sure his expression was full of nothing but fondness now for the man laying in the hospital bed. "You're afraid your appendix will get lonely?"

"I just...they're all meant to be together, you know? You can't separate one and expect it won't get lonely. Don't let them steal my organ, Eds."

"I," Eddie began, unable to help the smile that pulled on his lips. "Stevie, baby, it's not stealing if a doctor does it. They're taking it out because it's being a troublemaker. It doesn't belong there anymore, you can't keep trying to make it fit somewhere it doesn't."

"Never stopped me before," Steve answered with a little slur. "Maybe I like troublemakers." Then, leaning over with his hand by his mouth in a conspiratorial whisper, he said at full volume, "I mean you, Eddie."

There was no laugh like the one Steve was able to pull from him, of that Eddie had learned years before. He laughed until his chest hurt and tears gathered in his eyes, until even the nurse peeked their head in to check on the two of them.

"C'mon, Stevie. You go be a rockstar in there and I'll be right beside you when you wake up. We'll go get so much ice cream you forget about your stolen appendix," Eddie offered, pressing a kiss to Steve's non-IV lined hand.

"I'll be such a good rockstar you gotta put me in the band," Steve answered, blowing a kiss to Eddie as the surgical team came in to wheel him off. "Love you, Eds."

Warmth spread through his chest, warming him from the insides out until Eddie worried he might burn up from the intensity of Steve's love. "Love you too, Steve."

Eddie stands and watches as they wheel Steve out of the room, laughing as Steve yelled after him.

"I can't believe you're letting them steal my poor appendix, Munson! I won't forget this!"

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie headcanon #hospitals #surgery #jay writes in theory

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libraryoffandomsuniverse · 8 months

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Being Rhaenyra Targaryen's husband would include:

Masterlist

Okay this is my 3rd time uploading this, because tumblr was being a whiny bitch. This turned out much longer than I expected and I'm already planning on writing more in this au. I combined book and show canon, although I kept the Velaryons as black. I also renamed some of Rhaenyra's children and gave her 1 more.

This is not team green friendly or kind to Alicent. At all. Reader is a petty bitch who adores his wife and whose love language is murdering their enemies in various secret ways.

Warnings include murder, forced infertility (Viserys), Rhaenyra and Reader scheming for the throne.

You're the oldest son of Rhaenys Targaryen and Corlys Velaryon. Greatness is in your blood.

You're proud - how can you not be? You're the oldest son of the Sea Snake and The Queen Who Never Was, the heir to High Tide and the next Lord of Driftmark. You're the second rider of Silverwing, after Queen Alysanne. You are cunning and clever - everything your parents could wish for in a son. You have a lot to be proud of.

After fighting in the Stepstones and being knighted, you emerge as one of the chief candidates for Rhaenyra's hand.

The brothel incident still happens in this au and Rhaenyra still sleeps with Criston.

When your betrothal is announced, you both agree to do your duty. And although you aren't Daemon or Criston, you are still handsome and a warrior. Doing her duty will not be difficult for Rhaenyra.

You quickly fall in love, much to both your surprise. Rhaenyra falls first, your loyalty and ferocity in defending her sneaks past her defences.

You fall harder, her wit and hidden darkness, the type that matches yours, pulls you in. Her soul speaks to yours and feels familiar on some level.

By the time Jacaerys is born, you're incredibly happy and in love with each other.

Your darling boy is quickly followed by Lucerys, Baelon, Aegon, Gaemon and eventually (after a few years) your twin daughters Visenya and Aemma.

Your royal apartments are rarely quiet because of your children. They adore their mother's hugs, love to hang off your shoulders and follow you both around the Red Keep like little ducklings.

Being the best dressed couple in Westeros. Rhaenyra likes it when you match and often coordinates your outfits to do so. Sometimes it's matching her dress to your doublet, other times it's more subtle like you wearing ruby beads in your locs to match the precious stones in her bodice. It makes her feel like you're on a team and she knows you feel the same way, judging from the little smirk and raised eyebrow you give her when you see her and the maids going through your wardrobes.

You and Rhaenyra love to gossip together. It mainly happens in bed after you make love. She tells you the latest rumours her ladies in waiting told her and you reveal the scandals you heard from your manservant and squires.

You encourage her to be more visible to the common folk. You know that if she has their love, then any attempts to usurp her will fail. Your little family becomes regular fixtures in King's Landing as you explore the city and restart Queen Alysanne's charitable ventures. Rhaenyra starts heading sessions for women to raise any issues.

You know it's working when you hear people talking about the Realm's Delight and the Sea Dragon and praising your efforts in improving their lives.

The sight of you both racing your dragons high in the sky is a frequent occurrence. It started as a way to unwind after the small council meetings. As your family grew, your children joined in, strapped into yours or Rhaenyra's saddles. When they grew old enough and their dragons were big enough, they followed you on theirs.

Dividing your time between Dragonstone and the Red Keep, although visits to Driftmark are also regular events.

Laenor frequently pops in to visit and spoil your children.

Corlys and Viserys both compete to be the favourite grandparent, but you and Rhaenyra know that Rhaenys is the real favourite. For the sake of peace, you won't reveal it.

Despite Daemon and Laena staying in Pentos, you keep up a regular correspondence with them. You even arrange to meet in Driftmark with your children a few years into your marriage. Your children bond quickly, while the adults watch on and tell stories.

Being married to the heir to the Iron Throne isn't easy and there are many people who would see that Rhaenyra never becomes Queen.

As her consort, you consider it your duty to make the path easier for her.

Your first victim is Criston Cole. After murdering Joffrey Lonmouth, you expect him to get punished. The news of Queen Alicent accepting him as her sworn sword leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, particularly when you have to break the news to Laenor.

Along with your pride, one of your greatest attributes is how protective you are of your loved ones. Joffrey was Laenor's lover as well as one of your good friends.

It takes a little while to plan, but one day gossip erupts about Criston being found drunk in a brothel that's particularly debauched, even by the standards of King's Landing.

You seize your chance and tell your goodfather that perception is important, that such a knight like that cannot be allowed to guard the royal family, especially the Queen. Viserys ignores Alicent's protests and Criston is gelded and sent to the Wall.

Speaking of Viserys, you know that any sons he has will be pitted against your wife.

You also know that his health isn't very good.

You decide to help him by giving him a tonic that your mother swears by, along with some lotions and creams. "Two drops of this with your morning meal every day and you'll soon feel better, Your Grace," you persuade him. "And wouldn't it be wonderful if you could meet your future grandchildren?"

Your father told you once you could sell water to a fish, such was the power of your silver tongue.

Viserys' health does improve after taking the tonic and the lotions that are massaged into his skin fix most of his pains.

However you failed to mention that the tonic and lotion both have herbs which cause infertility if used over long periods of time. Your mother only uses the tonic, and does so sparingly.

Viserys and Alicent only have Aegon and Helaena as a result of your actions.

You and Rhaenyra work hard to charm lords and ladies to support your cause.

You go on progress across the realm, flattering and courting all the noble families you meet.

It quickly becomes known that to be one of Princess Rhaenyra's ladies in waiting is a boon for attaining a fortunate marriage. In turn, you surround yourself with ambitious lords and their sons who want to advance their own interests.

It's a delicate dance, but you were taught how to make alliances by your parents, plus your charisma and ability to speak to anyone makes you one of the most popular members of the royal family.

Any attempts Alicent makes to gain allies for her son are countered by you and she can't stand you.

She tried to make Rhaenyra bring Lucerys to her when he was born, but you shut that down. "I wasn't aware that the Queen was in such poor health that she couldn't come herself to meet the newest member of our family," you say with a mocking smile. "The King is already coming to meet his grandson and I'm sure he would wish for Her Grace to join him." The sour look on the Queen's face when she finally arrives, only to find Viserys holding your baby boy, is a sight you'll remember for weeks to come.

You're Rhaenyra's greatest weapon and she despises how popular you are. You weren't supposed to be this politically adept, your children weren't supposed to be that lovely and polite and Rhaenyra was not supposed to be the heir when Viserys already has a son.

She says so to Larys Strong, who decides to do something about it without telling her.

You survive the pathetic assassination attempt because of a loyal servant.

Rhaenyra finds out what happened and she is furious. When she finds out Larys did it? He's a dead man walking.

His body is found in a secluded corridor at the bottom of the stairs. It's fairly obvious that he slipped and fell in a tragic accident - the servants had only finished cleaning and polishing those stairs the day before.

You thank your wife for avenging you with a sapphire necklace and several rounds of insatiable sex that eventually results in your son Aegon being conceived.

Unfortunately Lyonel Strong takes this as his chance to resign as Hand and return to Harrenhall, something you and your wife are unhappy about. You will miss him and his unwavering loyalty and fairness.

You miss him even more when you find out Otto Hightower is returning to King's Landing to be Viserys' Hand again.

The return of her father emboldens the Queen, although you and Rhaenyra are more than a match for them, both during the Small Council meetings (which you are Master of Ships) and outside them.

Eventually though, you decide to take care of the problem, although your wife cautions you to be careful.

A year after becoming Hand again, Otto Hightower is dead. His health had been declining for some time, even before he returned to King's Landing, but the poison you'd had your spies slip into his furniture and clothing certainly made his end quicker.

You knew he had a food taster, so you had to be careful to make it appear natural. A quiet conversation with Daemon had pointed you in the right direction.

Although it appeared to be natural, you knew that Otto's last days were a living hell. A fitting end for such a man.

With his death, you recommended Viserys make Lyonel Strong Hand again or even name Rhaenyra to be the Hand, as preparation for her future role.

His decision to name Rhaenyra as Hand is one of the only good decisions he's made.

It gives her more experience in governing the realm, particularly when he starts to become more frail.

After several years of this, she is confident in her role. She will be a magnificent Queen and you're truly honoured to be her consort.

#not team green friendly #male reader imagines #black reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #hotd imagines #rhaenyra targaryen imagines #my writing

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belokhvostikova · 8 months

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𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | After five months of no reconciliation with the man whose lifestyle became too much for you to manage, you're met with your ex-boyfriend, the rockstar, after an accident leaves you in the hospital, and you face the realization that Eddie Munson is still your emergency contact.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, crying, mentions of alcohol consumption, hard drug use, insecurities, minor jealousy, fighting, breakup, brief mention of infidelity (no cheating, though), hospital setting, head injury, concussion, mentions of stitches, mentions of blood, and mentions of seizures.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | Y'all, I'm 19! So, as a gift to you (whatever logic that is) here's a fic that takes place around Christmas, so I guess, also a belated Christmas gift. Happy birthday and Merry Christmas! Also, the extent of my knowledge on injuries is purely based on the fact that I took both Health Science I and II in high school, and, well, that's it. So, if anything is inaccurate, NO IT'S NOT (because I said so).

“Will you-” so vividly, you heard his boisterous laughter dense the air sweetly, his face glowing with the ever peaking sunlight that glimmered the sparkling snow outside each time you peered up to his extended height. “It’s like you’re trying to make me fall!” His dramatic accusations were merely met with your fits of giggles, something he so gladly wished to always be met with, as the graze of your cold fingers buzzed his skin with the excitement of what used to be your touch. “Seriously, baby, I can’t finish this if you’re attacking me.”

But you made no effort to stop, continuing your precise placement of delicate ornaments upon the belt loops of his jeans, the links of his chain, the pockets of his backside, perhaps even one snuggly secured in the threaded rips of his pants. With your boyfriend at your mercy—stuck a couple feet higher atop the fifth step of the ladder to fulfill your dreams of draping green garland to surround your high rise windows—you couldn’t help the ebullient urge to decorate him as you pleased, bringing some loving festivities to the black denim ensemble he regularly sported.

Effervescent balls of sparkling reds and yellows accompanied the hanging bandana of his back pocket. “You’re like my very own personal Christmas tree!” You beamed upwards, watching a smile that was personal to himself, as he lavished in the innocence this holiday expelled from you. “C’mon,” a fatuous whine that had him chuckling with strings of fake green leaving his hand to secure around the window frame, “have a little spirit!”

And perhaps, that’s all you were trying to have now: spirit.

Because in the blink of an eye, the purity of crystalline, white snow had turned into sludges of watery dirt to meet the once twinkling hues to stringing lights that now simply became the bane of your existence. Because to you, everything embellished itself as a mockery to the happily ever after you now no longer had.

But it never hurt to try, and yet, trying became the very literal thing that hurt you.

“…What occurred in the midst of their fourth track, Corroded Coffin’s notable ‘Goliath’s Wrath,’ left fans in a frenzy, when frontma…” Your eyes blurred with exhaustion, attempting to fight back the heaviness of your eyelids that left your vision impaired by spotty shades of blacks and whites. Various pitches of ringing clashing with static voices began provoking that throbbing ache in your head that pounded your brain to mush. “…Information falls scarcely upon accuracy, though there were mentions of a family emergency as to the reaso…” One harsh breath for your dense chest left your nose to be invaded by the artificial, bitterness of antiseptic. All more of a reason for your eyes to screw shut in a brutal endeavor to appease the gnawing of your head. “…Demanding refunds for a set that had to go on without the leading m-”

“You’re up!” Your eyes shot open. His aging skin told stories of his life, crinkling into an abundance of creases that welcomed your startled awakening. “I know things may seem a little scary and confusing here, kid.” Heaving became an understatement when your eyes accepted the burning tiles of white around the room, and suddenly, whatever news outlet that was recounting the upheaval of 90s Hollywood from the tiny television that served its purpose of passing time was becoming drowned out by the abrasive beeping of monitors that clung to your body with tubes. “But just bare with me, alright, everything’s going to be okay.”

Okay? Your body felt cold under the roughness of hospital linen. “I-I…” A reckless try at sitting up left your mouth soaring with an agonizing groan from the pain, your sore body all too weak for the heavy lifting at your head, that suddenly felt the density of a dozen bricks that smashed together.

“Take it easy, alright.” The older gentleman smiled, urging you to lay back against the flat pillow with his simple gestures. “I know things are a little hazy here, but my name is Dr. Rosenthal, would you be able to tell me yours?” Your brows scowled at the disparaging child-talk the man thirty years your senior was showcasing you.

With a roll to your eyes—something instantly regretted because of the pain in your head—you dryly croaked. “Y-Y/N.” It was all too bright. God, what would it give to flip off the overhead lights? You never really were a fan of overhead lights, but his excuse of, “we have money now, these lights can stay on,” had a knack for making you giggle. It’d been five months since those overhead lights were ever turned on again. You wondered how often Ed-

“That’s great!” Dr. Rosenthal smiled, and you accepted the scraping scribble of his pen against his papered clipboard to satiate the buzz of your brain. “Tell me, Y/N can you remember anything about how you may have gotten here? Any recollections you may-”

“Where is- is she here?!” You fought the throb of your head to snap into the direction of the door, where Dr. Rosenthal mimicked your concern. In truth, the smell hadn’t been all too great; beads of perspiration coated his body in part with the concoction of spiced cologne and the bitter bourbon he regularly downed before coming face-to-face with thousands in a packed arena. “Y/N- she’s- what, what happe- oh, shit!” Cindy Jaurick had been a renowned makeup artist in Hollywood, but with the dryness of his skin, even she couldn’t conceal the bruising of his sleep-deprived eyes; splotches of alabaster cream became patchy upon his bags that smeared with the waxiness of black liner.

Eddie Munson, all leather and chains that clashed with his truest self of denims and tees. A facade so greatly curated by the hands of top executives that in a span of three years, millions were acquired to his name. Such a stupid name, you now thought.

A heavy step forward left his booted foot clanking against the white tiles, a movement too abrasive for your liking, as his incoming hand has you pushing back from his reaching touch. “Excuse me, sir, you need to step back and calm down.” Dr. Rosenthal proclaimed, a man of loyalty to his position, clearly perturbed by any bothersome that came to his patients.

“I just- what the hell happened, are you okay?!” His jewelry—the real kind, far from the fake silver he once adorned that periodically fused his fingers green, but loved them more than anything—jingled to the admission of his distress, hands harshly raking through the chunks of sweaty hair over the sight of your damaged self.

An audible clap came with the hit of Dr. Rosenthal’s clipboard to Eddie’s exposed chest, where the buttons of his designer brand had been deliberate to showcase the permanent markings of his tattooed skin. “Sir, unless you are a relative or partner of-”

“Yes! Yes, I’m her boyfriend-”

Your memory hadn’t served you right for the occasions that brought you to the hospital, but you knew enough that Eddie Munson no longer brandished the title of such, given the circumstances that occurred five months ago. “N-No, he’s, um, not… anymore.”

“Then, sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave-”

“No, I- do you even know who I am?” Eddie watched your face scrunch with disgust at his language to the doctor, but whatever damage control he attempted fell short on your solidified opinion of a distasteful eye roll against him. “Shit, no- like, I mean you called me. I-I’m her emergency contact! I swear it, I’m Eddie!”

And you slumped back against your bed. Clear as day, you remembered the cursive handwriting that marked the page with the name and number of your ex-boyfriend. When a year ago, months apart finally came to a halt as Eddie’s touring schedule cleared for the coming holidays. It would suffice to say the bedroom of your quaint Indianapolis townhouse saw little abandonment, with silk sheets becoming imprinted with the weight of your bodies that refused to leave the warmth of each other’s depraved company. In doing so, your judgment became clouded from the usual routine of bathroom care that came after a heated rendezvous. But could you be blamed? Believe it or not, there actually was a time when Eddie’s embrace brought you comfort and peace. What eventually transpired into a run-of-mill UTI had actually worsened quicker than expected. Over-the-counter medication did little to relieve you from the infection, and when your back suddenly began to ache, you knew a trip to St. George's Hospital was in need. With a close call, your kidneys were able to stay intact to your body, and the use of dialysis was spared from your future. And yet, who knew the most haunting occasion of that experience would come with the boyish smile of Eddie Munson, as he watched with lovesick eyes as you entrusted him as the man you’d want in the case of an emergency.

My god, how times have changed…

“Um, yeah, yeah, he is.” You swallowed the dryness of your throat, hoping the commotion of everything would finally settle to alleviate the stress of your head.

“Well, Ms. Y/L/N, it’s up to you if you’d like him here.” Dr. Rosenthal sighed, a harsh click to his pen that surely cemented his dislike for the gaudy man upon him. “Your neighbor has already left, but I can assure you that the nurses will make frequent routines to keep you in care.”

Neighbor? “I- um, Trevor?” Your head spun with the lack thereof details that painfully tried to piece themselves together.

Eddie's hair flew with the snap of his head to your doctor, as his scowl silently demanded the explanation you both were desperate to hear. Dr. Rosenthal cleared his throat. “Ms. Y/L/N, you took quite the fall off a ladder in your home. After a while, your neighbor had found you, and did the deed of bringing you over. He mentioned you had borrowed his ladder to put up-”

“Christmas decorations.” What a wonderful feeling it was to have the epiphany that was as simple as regained memory. Where you no longer had a boyfriend to gladly bear the brunt work of Christmas decorations for your sole enjoyment, you now had to dish out yourself. Unloading dusty boxes had usually accompanied a teasing compliment to the muscles that bulged from his arms, though now, your back felt the strain of heavy lifting, because you refused to properly use your legs. “Um, y-yeah, I remember- well, I don’t remember falling, but, uh, I used Trevor’s ladder for the, um, y’know, what do you call them? The green, leaf stringy-”

“Garlands?” Dr. Rosenthal and Eddie spoke simultaneously.

And you perked up as best as your body would allow. “Yeah, garlands!” Your voice excitedly croaked. “You, uh, y-you remember?” For once, in five months, you actually acknowledged him. Eddie. “I-I like those garlands around our- my windows.”

He remembered. Your giggles ringing in his ears like magical sleigh bells. Your touch warming his skin against the burning cold. Your eyes twinkling over the simplicity of green garlands… something he couldn’t even provide you with now.

“That’s good.” Dr. Rosenthal smiled. “You’re recalling events and… history,” he pursed his lips against Eddie’s cold demeanor, “wonderfully. It’s a good sign of minimal memory loss, which falls quite commonly against those in situations as yours. When you fell, Ms. Y/L/N, your neighbor had informed us of a seizure-”

“Seizure?!” Eddie spat.

“Yes, seizure; fifteen seconds.” He clarified. “And with that, an immediate grade II concussion. We ran a necessary EEG and CT scan prior to your waking, as such classification can offer some findings. Fortunately, all we saw was the inevitable stretching of your neurons which caused a burst of electrical impulses in your brain explaining the seizure. Checking for any fracturing of the skull, or swelling, and bleeding, and you were quite lucky. Completely cleared.” His smile broke through his wrinkled face. “Though, you were brought in with quite the gash on the left side of your head, right between the parietal and occipital bone. Nothing too extreme on the severity scale, but in order to stop the bleeding we did have to repair the tissue damage with stitching.” A vapid explanation of the overly tight gauze that somehow felt like a ton of bricks around your cranium. “But other than that, your vitals are excellent.” Check, check, check off his clipboard. “It’s very likely you’ll continue experiencing a headache, perhaps some nausea, or dizziness. I do recommend an overnight stay to ensure secondary swelling doesn’t occur, and to guarantee your memory continues to function properly. But a morning discharge should be fine.”

A deep breath allowed your head to nod along. “Yeah, um, thank you… really.” You earnestly smiled.

But where you could muster a staid beam of politeness, Eddie Munson gleamed a smile so faux, even Dr. Rosenthal piqued him with a scowl—though miniscule for his professional aptitude. The heavy click of the door closing behind Dr. Rosenthal granted the heaviest breath to escape from Eddie before his attention scrutinized you.

“What the hell were you thinkin’?!” He ambushed. Seriously, he knew you for seven years. Seven years of his fucking life, and not once had you ever dared to lift a finger for manual labor. Okay, call him old fashioned, but that’s exactly what he liked about you; you know, the whole damsel in distress that needed him whenever something fell loose or broken. That’s it, just the need for him. The need to want him around. “I-I mean, seriously, you- why couldn’t you just call me- or, or, like, Steve, or someone, so you wouldn’t get hurt?” Okay, so maybe calling him wouldn’t have been your first option. If the fact of being no contact for five months wasn’t enough, surely living across the country would have ruled him out. You stopped keeping up with his whereabouts weeks ago. But that wouldn’t stop him. It was you, for Christ sake! You wanted your garlands, Eddie would have given you your garlands. No matter the lack of communication. No matter the distance.

Eddie Munson would have given you everything.

You dryly blinked. Twice. If only he felt like that when you both were still together. “Get out.”

“Okay, no- wait, I’m not trying to blame you-”

“Really? Because that’s exactly what you’re doing. Get out!” Your tired voice tried to muster.

“No, sweetheart, c’mon, I-I know- I just worded it wrong, okay? Please, I just- I don’t know why you would try to do something that would get you hurt like that. You could have, I don’t know, asked for help, like called me up, I promise I would have answered to help you-”

Your eyes rolled against his sentiment. “What, so I’m just too dimwitted to use a couple of tools?!”

“Well, you did fall.” By your stare, Eddie Munson had two seconds to live. “N-No, I didn’t say that- I, look, I just wish you would have called or someth-”

“And I wish you would just get out!” But your rash endeavor to sit up and shove him away legitimized the pitiless reality of your gnawing head hazing your vision and dismantling your balance, forcing Eddie to rush to your assistance.

“I- okay, I’ll shut up, just lay back, relax, please, sweetheart. I don’t want you hurting yourself more.”

“I’m fine.” You gritted.

“There’s a chunk of your head missing.” Eddie retaliated with a deadpan so infuriating mocking.

A huff of disbelief rippled from your dry lips. “Dr. Rosenthal just said it was no big deal.”

“Like I care what that old fuck has to say.” Your scolding eyes ripped him a new one. “Okay, geez, didn’t know you two were such close friends.”

With no energy to fight back, you permitted his touch to push you back against stiff pillows, where his ink-engraved hands worked swiftly to cover your frail body from the harsh chills of the hospital air conditioning. “I’ll be quiet, promise.” He whispered, adhering to his words, as he silently watched you close your eyes away from him, now that his presence has garnered a throbbing headache.

By the seventh beep, you no longer found interest in counting the indications of your working monitors. But where your mind lost the simple activity, you also gained attention to the whirring voices of the television. Sat by your side on the hardened chair, Eddie’s tapping toes forced your eyes to tear back-in-forth from his stance to the static colors of live footage coverage.

“Man, all I hope is for a refund!” Drunk out of his mind, as the lights of cameras began emphasizing the drugged redness of the young man’s eyes. “Like, seriously, we’re all here for The Freak, and for him to just run off like that, dude, we paid for a Corroded Coffin show, and we’re gonna get it, or else we want our money back!”

A pan to the well-dressed reporter stocked drastically to the metalheads on scene. “Well, you heard it here first, folks. As we wait for more updates on the events that occurred that left Eddie Munson running off stage to what would have been his biggest performance in his home state, fans are pressuring for a refu-”

“Shouldn’t you be somewhere right now?” Eddie's head pulled itself from his intense stare that followed the grout of the tiled floors.

“Huh?” His gaze followed yours which briefly led to the boxed television that delivered MTV’s insistent need to showcase a replay of Eddie “The Freak” Munson, lead guitarist and singer of Corroded Coffin, running off stage in the midst of their newest single, ‘Goliath’s Wrath.’ “Oh, um,” his hand waved you off, “my team will rip me a new one later, it’s fine.”

You sighed. “And just for the record, I am self aware, so I did have someone there to help me.” You muttered, leaving his brows to furrow. “Trevor?”

“Oh.” Eddie’s lips maneuvered awkwardly. “Trevor, right.” Knee bouncing, fingers tapping, Eddie knew he should have kept his mouth shut, but the question burned his mind for too long not to suddenly blurt out. “So what, are you seeing him or something?” And perhaps he should have kept his mouth shut, given the death glare you killed him with that had him reeling back his words. “I- sorry.”

“Trevor has a girlfriend. And a ladder.” You scoffed. “And you of all people cannot be talking.”

Three weeks post the headlines that announced the separation between rockstar, Eddie Munson, and his longtime girlfriend, new reports were eager to air Hollywood’s newest romance between the amoral and Playboy’s finest, Lindsey Sawyer. To say you cried for weeks was quite the understatement, when your body physically impaired you from leaving the shielding comfort of your bed. While you rotted, Eddie danced on the grave of your love with his new girlfriend, whose six inch stilettos pierced your bludgeoned heart. Granted, it lasted nothing but a couple days, though it didn’t stop from the new pattern of recurrence in which Eddie found Hollywood’s new recycled “it” girl to accompany the image of a rager rockstar. Gisele Camarella, Pam Densely, Yvonne Huntsford; a new name, face, and body to compare yourself to.

“I-” his shame flooded his cheeks crimsen, “those were never real- not, like- not like you, not you and me real. Just what management thought looked best.” Though, his quiet admission did nothing to soothe over painful memories. “I’m sorry.” Three scrapes of wooden legs scratching against white tiles was all it took to have Eddie Munson sitting by your side. “How do you feel?” His eyes fervently raked your face. “Honestly.”

“My head hurts.”

“About seeing me?” He clarified.

Silence crept up in a suffocating manner, as Eddie watched your stoic lines revise his being. “I don’t like seeing your face anymore, Eddie.” How were you able to speak those words so calmly? Eddie’s throat choked him with unbearable bitterness that burned his insides. “You look stupid. You used to never look stupid.”

Eddie Munson had a haunting past of failures; D’s and F’s marked such a bloody red over white papers, tainting any scribble of hard work he, at least, attempted at times. And what followed failed tests and quizzes only came with the taunting laughter of jocks and cheerleaders, jeering their distaste for his “kind” that branded his leather and denim as the epitome of all things they deemed nauseating. For a while, Eddie Munson believed himself to be nothing but stupid. The grades and reputation being all the evidence needed to solidify his self worth to him. Every compliment to your intelligence he gave you knew came with an underlying insecurity within him. Because you were smart, so smart. What was a smart girl like you doing with a stupid guy like him?

So, yeah, your words hurt. As they intended to.

Eddie’s eyes dropped with shame, his Adam’s apple following suit with a thick bobbing gulp of guilt. His eyes casted upon his tight leather jeans that felt insufferable under a building layer of sweat; too much eyeliner, at times clouding his vision from the very fans he loved seeing; sheer shirts waving in a draft of uncomfortableness, forcing him to long for prized t-shirts that gave him the movement to be him on stage; and a god awful personality detailed so preciously by management to make his name a headliner’s favorite.

Yeah, Eddie Munson looked so fucking stupid.

“I-I don’t like ‘em.” He stammered.

“You used to.”

July once brought Los Angeles, California a blistering heat. You hate heat.

Five months ago.

“No, no, no, he’s full of shit, I was the one who came up with ‘Goliath’s Wrath!’” The cigar browning of Gareth Emerson’s scotch dribbled his lips wet with his drunken blubber, as men surrounding—all big money and titles alike—huffed out laughter worth millions to the men that provided them such wealth.

Eddie’s nose burned with the ecstasy of white powder, dusting his beautiful features with the hedonism of all glory and power… for once, right in his hands. “Oh, fuck off, you were passed out drunk laying in your own piss when we wrote that god awful fucking song!” He laughed, joining in on the obnoxious cacophony of guffaws that held no sense of reality.

A shoulder knocked into his. Greased slicked hair, gold rings, and a suit worth your car payment; Iverson Green. And Eddie had no fucking clue what he did. “You really don’t like the upcoming song?” He whispered.

And Eddie would never know. Information as such mattered little, as long as the man helped pay his check. “These braindeads approve of all this rock shit for the image.” Eddie bit back. “If I had it my way, I’d show ‘em real metal.” He smiled.

A blood red stiletto acrylic stabbed at his shoulder before a cloud of Chanel °5 invaded his itching nose. “Got you booked.” She spoke, her breath tickling his ear over the sheer closeness needed over the vibrating base of stereos.

Eddie turned his head to see her, a smiling Judy Carawan that had him beaming right back. “For what this time? I’m not doing some late night news bullshit again.” After the way Larry Parsons of Hollywood’s Friday Nights called out his delinquent behavior, executives were buzzing for another clash between Eddie “The Freak” Munson and talk show hosts to get the papers running.

“Hilfiger.” Judy leaned in, a smirk of confidence for her work truly accomplished. “A fitting, then you wear one of his suits to the VMA’s, and that’s cash in your pockets. And mine.”

Eddie’s face glowered with disgust, as he attempted to move away, her smell becoming too strong for his liking. “Save me a line.” He instructed to the man breaking rows of snow on the mahogany table. “Fuck no, I’m not wearing some posh-y model shit in front of the fucking cameras.”

“It’ll be one time, and a check worth a lifetime.” She rolled her eyes, a habitual stance against the troubles that came with personally assisting Eddie Munson. “Also, see.” Her slender finger pointed to the lengthy body of Cierra Kalahi, perched against the marbling chimney of your Hollywood Hills home. “Miss America’s Next Top Model will be wearing Hilfiger, too. You and some Shalom Harlow wannabe wearing the same designer is just enough to spark some attraction to your name.”

Eddie knew the venomous implications of her suggestion. “I’m not playin’ into your bullshit dating rumors.” A vicious cycle you two had to go through; you hurting more than the other, though.

“Okay, fine, then we get your pretty, little girlfriend to wear a matching dress… that is if she’ll stop being a bummer.”

“Don’t fucking do that, alright?” Eddie huffed, dragging his sweaty hands down the heat of his cheeks. His eyes felt like they were going to crack out of his skull from the dryness of being opened for the past forty-three hours. But the umpteenth swig of Old Fashioned was fueling him alongside the unstoppable fuel of crystalline cocaine. “She just- I- look, I’m not putting her out there where she doesn’t want to go. S-She’s too good- she’s too good for the cameras.”

“She’s not good for your career.” Eddie felt her words echo into a repeated ringtone that irritated his ears. His vision grew blurred with his impulsive movements against her face.

His hot, alcoholic breath fanned her bangs with each huff of his chest. “Remember who pays your fucking bills!” Nothing but the voices of Mötley Crüe tormented the background, as everyone but the music quieted to bask in the events of another Eddie Munson meltdown. “You say one more fucking word about her, and I’ll leave you to the fucking street.”

Judy Carawan cinched her eyes against his lost ones. Whatever bad boy facade he drugged himself into every night never scared her. Hell, she fed into it. “Eddie, I’m going to be quite frank with you, since no one else will be. You and your goody girlfriend will never last. If she truly cared for you like she says she does, she would do anything to keep your name in the spotlight. And if you truly cared for her like you say you do, you wouldn’t be snorting snow on your fucking anniversary.” Eddie's hardened muscles fell from realization. And Judy smiled such a sick smile. “And FYI, I was someone before you.” Eight years of work with Hollywood’s hottest clientele. “Can you say the same?”

Your lip wobbled under the harsh bite of your teeth to suppress the stinging tears from an embarrassing downpour. Despite his promises of a private evening, you braced your arms over your chest, where it became exposed from the strapless dress you uncomfortably endured, after too many magazine headlines criticized your lack of “looks” for the hottest rockstar in town. You’d never admit it, always brushing him off whenever he became concerned for your well being because of the tabloids, but he always noticed the subtle changes you made to look like the women in the city that felt like another plant from olde Indiana.

And now, unwarranted flashes of cameras settled outside the Michelin Star restaurant that burrowed burdening humiliation into your skin, as a cautious peer around the setting allowed you to notice the pitying and gossip of the goers around you.

Every minute that passed, you gave him the benefit of the doubt. But an hour and fifteen minutes just prevailed you to be a doormat. But could you be blamed? Seven years ago today, you ran into the man, himself, who turned the dreaded day of Hawkin’s High open house into a new adventure. Where you had the excuse of an actively involved mother, who became adamant on touring the unknown environment of the orange and green halls after your father’s relocation to the rural town, Eddie had an intransigent uncle who refused to watch his nephew lose another year of his life to failing high school, and imposed the young man to abide by the staff’s fake smiles, as they greeted parents and students for the coming school year.

It’s funny how one sullen face can find another in a crowd of PTA parents and their goody-two-shoe children alike. Meeting eyes and a devilish smirk on his face was all it took for two strangers to find trust in one another, and sneak away in the depths of bushy, green woods. In retrospect, asking Eddie Munson to be your boyfriend after only three hours of knowing him was quite rash—he, himself, was quite taken aback, as well—but the worst that could happen was it didn’t work out. I mean, what high school relationship ever does? But his informative trek across lush grass, a shared cigarette, and talks that had your stomach cramping from fits of giggles was enough to solidify your decision at heart. And who was Eddie Munson to ever say no to a pretty face and soul like yours.

And it worked out… surprisingly.

It was quite the experience learning the ins and outs of someone you already called your boyfriend, but the pureness of it all bloomed into the most innocent love of two people navigating the world and finding themselves together.

But suddenly, the world had a place in your relationship. The people had a say. In what you wore, what you looked like, who you had to be. And he allowed it. Allowed everyone to measle their way in. After the first promise to you that nothing would change, every single one to follow became a lie.

Because he changed.

You mustered the will to sniffle away any tears. He no longer became worth it to you. And it broke your heart. Your heels clicked their way out of the restaurant, where your being was blurred under the paralyzing flashes of people who invaded your life, capturing and exploiting your lowest moment for a check, and branding you the girl that held the greatest rockstar back.

Eddie stumbled back on wobbly feet, his mind too disorientated to care about the bodies he shoved that consequently left glasses of cocktails to shatter against the polished flooring of his home. Though, nothing mattered as long as he got to the door. But your crying self had beat him to it from the other side, swinging the grand doors that were always too heavy for your liking, and entering your home that was invaded by strangers and their substances, and Eddie… your Eddie standing in the middle of it all.

His red, beclouded eyes had disallowed him the privilege of blinking your beauty straight, but through the haze of blear lines, he saw your face so clearly fall from disappointment.

From pure defeat.

“W-Wait!” Eddie fought the incoordination of his legs to follow you outside, leaving his guest to watch in awe. “Baby, I- fuck! I-I’m sorry- ugh, I just- I forgot!”

Los Angeles’ humidity suffocated his airways that were already constricting from his sobbing chokes. His insides burned from the concoction of drugs and sweltering heat that only fueled at the sight of your broken face. “You forgot?!” You cried, swinging your body around to face the man you no longer recognized. “For the past seven years you’ve never forgotten, but now you do! What, is it no longer important for you?!”

Spit blubbered with his words, as his lips moved a mile a minute to keep your love preserved. “N-No, I mean- yes, of course, it’s i-important-”

“Then why weren’t you there?!” Mascara stained the softness of your cheeks, now too darkened for Eddie to ever kiss the pain away. “Why aren’t you ever there?! For me!”

“I-It wasn’t my fault.” He heaved. “J-Jude, she-she said this s-stupid thing was scheduled, and-and she said it’d be quick-”

“Of course, it’s never your fault!” You bit back with the deflation of your arms. “It’s always the alcohol, or the drugs, or Judy, but it can never be your fault, can it, Eddie?!” His fist balled into his eyes, as snot caved down his nose.

“N-No, it is my fault! I’m sorry, Y/N- I’ll fix it! I’ll do anything, I’ll make it up to you, I swear!”

“Don’t you get it?!” You marched up to his wrecked body. “Your promises mean nothing to me anymore!”

“Don’t, please!” Eddie sobbed. Shameful embarrassment ate him alive in the middle of your Hollywood Hills driveway. “I-I’ll stop all this, th-the drugs,” his arm smeared away the remnants of snot and cocaine against his nose, “the drinking, partying, everything, I mean it!” Because something deep within Eddie Munson knew this was the last straw.

You were done.

“Stop lying to me!” Your eyes stung with tears. “Why are you so comfortable lying to me, and h-hurting me?!” His head adamantly refused your words with a harsh shake to his head, but the history of abandonment that brought you to your wits end weighed more than his inebriated actions. “You touch me and it feels like a lie. You k-kiss me and it feels like a lie. E-Everything you do has become bullshit, Eddie! I don’t trust you. I-I just worry. Worried that anytime you’re not next to me you’ve drugged yourself dead, or-or knocked out somewhere, or… with women-”

“Don’t fucking say that! I’d never do something like that to you!”

“The Eddie I knew would never leave me to snort coke with strangers, but here we are!” You bawled in retaliation, forcing his mouth quiet in disbelief. “You’re not Eddie anymore! So, don’t stand here and tell me you wouldn’t do these things, when everything you do leads me to believe you are capable of doing something like that… something to hurt me! Because you do, Eddie! You hurt me.”

“I’m so fucking sorry! Please, Y/N, baby, I fucking love you, everything’s just been too much, a-and I forget things, I’ll be better!” You scoffed at his utter patheticism that grossed you out, turning your heel, but his large hand caught a tightening grip to your wrist. “No, I’m serious, sweetheart, I’ll change! I-I’m still Eddie!”

“Get off.” You quietly pleaded, exhausted from the sobs that wrecked your body.

“Y-You can’t leave me, Y/N, no, I-I need you.” He choked. “I love you. So much. With everything in me. Please. We don’t do this to each other!”

“Then why do you keep doing this to me?!”

“Darling, Ms. Y/L/N?” Yours and Eddie’s head parted to the soft voice of Debby Weiser. Nearly a year ago, your elderly neighbor—who came into stardom in the 50s for her acts that revolutionized the spreading use of colored television—welcomed you into the gated neighborhood with a gluten-free muffin basket that had tasted like pure shit. But the kindness of her effort garnered a budding friendship with the mature woman who offered her wisdom on enduring Hollywood’s notoriety. “You alright there, sweetie?” Her southern accent never had assimilated to the Valley.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You turned to his eyes, staring down the saddened roundness that no longer held the precious life they once used to. “I was just leaving.”

That night, you left to your shared Indianapolis townhouse that became your starter home when Eddie’s career was first taking off. You were so happy then.

And he hadn’t seen you since.

Until now.

Eddie Munson had fallen quiet.

Everything had, in fact.

The constant beeping of your medical instruments drove him to madness, but he figured the insanity was substantial punishment for the hurt he caused you. He’d been suffering for five months already, what’s a couple more minutes? If anything, he’d be suffering for the rest of his life should it continue without you.

But it didn’t have to.

Eddie knew he had no right to gain your love once more, and the vulnerability of your state worsened the situation tenfold, but there was a reason Eddie received that call. A reason why his heart sank amidst a phone call that identified your beautiful name in an emergency, that left him dropping everything in front of thousands that cheered his name. Whatever cynicism that tainted his heart had long left upon your sweet arrival; a ‘thank you’ filled with such gratitude towards his uncle, when Eddie busted into the trailer with a smile too large to be because of Hawkins High’s yearly open house. Wayne Munson had never asked, mostly due to the fact that his nephew locked himself in his bedroom, where the nineteen-year-old worked endlessly for his new upcoming Dungeons and Dragons campaign that followed the grounds of fate and destiny.

In the mere three hours of your presence, you gave Eddie Munson hope.

He’d be damned not to devote his eternal life to you.

“Y/N, I…” his eyes laid low, examining the threads of linen that covered you, as his fingers twiddled with his rings to appease the constant bounce of his anxious knee. “I need you to know how terribly sorry I am for everything I did. All the times I hurt you.” He sighed, as his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. “I- uh, I just really need you to understand that everything that happened to us was not your fault. At all. You-” his breath shook with a tremble, “You really were so fucking perfect during everything. So patience, so communicative, and I-I never listened to you the way you deserved, I just- I don’t know, I thought maybe-maybe if I gave it my all to this career, I could finally give you everything you deserve.”

His eyes attempted to blink away searing tears, but his emotions were getting the better of him. “A-And I know how fucking selfish that is, I had- fuck, I had no right to assume what you wanted from me, and-and put you in a position where you had to go through all my bullshit, all because I thought that in the end it would make you happy… without even speaking to you about it.” Eddie's voice cracked with a harsh sniffle to gather his strength.

“I-I’m getting clean, um, it’s been really fucking hard, but I-I got the boys s-setting me straight everyday. Especially after I practically tortured them with my cries after you left.” His pity laughter softly broke through. “B-But yeah, sweetheart, I-I’m doing pretty good for myself- well, tryin’ to, at least. Still kinda always, constantly, forever feel like shit,” Eddie chuckled, “but I’m managing. T-The drugs n’ everything flushed n’ all, n-now just trying to hold off the booze, y’know? But fuckin’ hell does a beer get me through it.”

A smile began etching upon his face, where the history of all the laughter you provided him with creased his face with the lines of joy that only truly showcased in your presence. “Talked to our manager, he sure as hell was pissed when I insisted on getting rid of Jude. And she sure as hell went out with a bang, and smeared by name to the tabloids, but, uh, you probably already read about that- or not, I don’t, like, expect you to keep up with me or anything, honestly I kinda hope you didn’t, because, well, those first couple of weeks after everything real-really, uh… brought the worst out.” A deep breath escaped his mouth, as his fingers dug into the temples of his head to alleviate the dull pain.

“I-I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m really… trying.” Eddie swallowed thickly. “F-For my fans, the boys, myself, a-and you, Y/N. And I c-can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am for taking, y’know, taking this long t-to get better, and for not trying better before, for having to h-hurt you just to learn, I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N. A-And I’m not askin’ for a second chance- well, I know I don’t deserve one, not now or-or ever if you feel like it, I just need you to know I’m Eddie, somewhere inside- I’m working really hard on just being me- oh, but, of course, I do want to be with you. T-That wasn’t me saying I didn’t. I do, I-I always wanna be with you, I just- I, okay, I’ll shut up now.”

The deliberation was excruciating.

The process of his words that rambled on for an eternity was too much to process, especially with a head injury, and he understood that to the fullest, but the quietness was becoming deafening, as he waited for your words… your rejection… your reciprocation.

Anything.

And he couldn’t dare look you in the eyes, the ones that pierced his soul so deeply, and he desperately urged you to say something. Anything!

“Y/N?” Beep. Beep. Beep. “Sweetheart…?” His eyes fluttered forward. “Jesus H. Christ, Y/N!” Your peaceful sleep had garnered a frightful reaction from Eddie, as he jumped to his feet to urgently caress your face awake. Of course, when doing so, your eyes tiredly awoke to his face all too close for your liking, and a frown broke your face, as you attempted to move from him.

“Christ, Eddie.” You debilitatingly rasped. “What are you doing?”

“Me?! What are you doing? Are you okay? You shouldn’t be going to sleep, you have a concussion! I-Isn’t that, like, something you shouldn’t do?!” He cupped your face straight to the blinding ceiling light, that had you mewling with annoyance.

“Eddie, I can remember Reagan’s speech, and the fall of the Berlin Wall.” You dragged, prying his concerned hands off your face. “I think I’ll be just fine going to sleep. God, did you just expect me to stay up all night?”

A shuddering breath left his strangling throat, as his hands flexed at the electricity of the touch of your skin. His body tensed, as his round eyes worriedly followed the contours of features. “You didn’t- did you hear me, like, anything that I just said? B-Before you- I woke you up?”

Your brows concave with a furrow of confusion, as you peered up at him through wispy lashes. “What’d you say?”

A deep sigh left his dry lips, as he flashed you a small smile filled with sincerity. “Don’t worry about it, okay? It was nothing.” His hands gently worked to cover your body further with blankets to keep you warm, as your suspicious stare hesitantly nodded in acceptance to his words. “Y-You hungry, or-or need more blankets? Painkillers, anything?”

You delicately rejected his help with a shake of your head. “Just tired.” You softly answered. “And you should probably leave, too. Get some sleep.”

Despite his mind refusing your proposal, he knew your rest was vital for recovery, and he watched you slowly turn your back to him, as his slow steps marked his way to the door. So lonely, he gazed at your tired body curl up into itself like it once did when his presence was actually yearned by you; all safety once found in his embrace, as he promised to never let go. And though he never did, his actions forced you to let go, as he now had to bear witness to seeing you become content with yourself. Something he could never imagine doing so.

His finger flipped the switch. You never were a fan of the overhead lights. And once so, a peaceful sigh buried its way from your parted lips, as your mind rested in tranquil darkness.

Eddie’s hand wrapped around the doorknob that allowed the hallway light to bleed in. But his eyes couldn’t dare leave you once more. Five months of deprivation killed him every passing day, and one glimpse of your beaten self made him feel like an addict breaking their withdrawal. There was once a time in which he was beckoned with the devastating occurrence of you leaving him no choice but to watch you walk away. Now, he had an opportunity. A chance. To walk away. Or stay. Leaving you alone, hurting, in a cold, empty hospital room was too heartbreaking of an option to ever endure, and he was vowing to his words of never hurting you again.

He gently closed the door with no intent to deceive you, but rather care for you. Right now, what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you. And his mind felt at peace knowing he could watch over you; his heart dissipating to the rhythm of calmness only you could bring him to. His quiet steps guided him back to the stiff chair that numbed his bottom and stabbed at his back. But it all became worth it, finally seeing you at peace, after the last weeks he ever got to see you your face had been permanently etched in distress, because of him.

Despite being awake for nearly twenty-two hours now, Eddie Munson spared a couple more just to look at you.

The morning to follow, Dr. Rosenthal had commented greatly on the normalcy of your brain. And Eddie felt envious. You could take thirty more blows to the head, and your brain would still function far better than his ever could. You, unfortunately, had no chance to question his lingering presence, since your body had been awakened by the prodding of a nurse who kindly checked if your vitals were up to par. You figured you’d save her the awkwardness of interrogating your ex-boyfriend, the rockstar.

“If necessary, just some acetaminophen of your choice once every four to six hours depending on the instructions. But if your pain seems to not be improving, I’ll surely write you a prescription for a triptan, whichever one we can work out best for you.” You nodded along, subtly watching Eddie in the corner of your eye, who was listening too intently for someone who was bound to leave in a couple minutes. “And for your stitches, twice a day, remove the old coverage, clean off, and apply a new gauze. After a while, you should be okay with doing it once, and by the two, two and half week mark, I’ll have a referral to remove them when the time comes.” You sighed, taking a minute to let your head process the instructions of the older gentleman before you. “Alrighty, any questions?”

“No, really, you’ve been so helpful with everything-”

“She can’t drive, right?” Eddie butted in.

Dr. Rosenthal took a long second to peer at him, before clearing his throat. “Wouldn’t recommend it under your symptoms. Nausea and dizziness can impair your ability, so we can call someone, arrange transp-”

“I already got that covered.” Eddie spat a smirk back in retaliation.

“As long as it’s okay with you.” Dr. Rosenthal sympathetically smiled at you.

You drew out a defeated sigh, and watched Eddie react like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Fine.” You begrudged.

“Alright then, you go ahead and take the time needed to gather your things, and you can check out at the front desk.” Your trusted doctor assured you. “Call me if you have any questions or concerns, and I’ll gladly help. You have a Merry Christmas, Ms. Y/L/N.” Eddie was spared from a polite holiday goodbye.

You gently smiled. “Thank you, have a Merry Christmas, as well.”

With a click of the door behind him, Eddie was quick to let out a breath of relief, as though Dr. Rosenthal lifted a burden off his shoulders. His hasty movements brought your bag of clothes from beneath your hospital bed to plop against your legs. “These yours?” He pried the drawstrings open.

“No, they’re the lady’s who gave birth before this became my room.” Eddie deadpanned, continuing to rummage through your belongings.

He snorted. “Psh, no pregnant lady would wear an Anthrax tee.” Something that very much still belonged to him, as he threw your t-shirt to your chest.

“Did you stay here after I told you not to?” Your eyes glared in a deadly squint that challenged his snarkiness.

“N-No.” A big, fat lie. His gaze was avoidant of yours, as his hands worked hurriedly to empty the bag of your pants… a brown flannel… your right Reebok… then the left, of course… an earring that stabbed him… the other that didn’t, because he learned his lesson… and some pretty, pretty pink panti-

“Stop looking at those!” You snatched the lacy material from his hands, as he threw his arms up in defense. “And if you didn’t stay, why are you still wearing the same clothes?” You prodded further.

“Oh, my god, I didn’t stay.” He huffed. And you hated the portion of your heart that allowed his words to hurt you, because how come he didn’t stay? “Just headed back to the hotel, took a nap, and came back here early.”

You allowed your hurt to bite back. “That’s gross, you smell.” But he’ll permit your chastising insults if it meant you wouldn’t be angry at him for going against your wishes.

“Can you just hurry up and change, so I can take you home.” He rolled his eyes. “I arranged a car to have us picked up, and take you home.”

“I hope you know how pretentious that sounds.” And Eddie Munson stared and stared, as you balled your clothes into the sanctity of your lap. “Well, don’t look, turn around.”

Eddie’s mouth gaped, laughing in disbelief. “Please, sweetheart, I’ve been staring at you naked for the past seven years of my life.”

“You know what? Just for that, you can go to the bathroom and wait, until I say so.” You smiled, so pleased to watch Eddie scoff incredulously.

Eddie turned on his heels with an exhale of exasperation to match, as he strutted his way into the tiny bathroom. “Can just close my eyes, and picture you naked.” Luckily with his back turned, he wouldn’t dare notice the small smile that cracked your face.

Eddie’s mind had been buzzing with thoughts for the entire forty-five minutes it took for the chauffeur to pull up and parallel park in front of your townhouse. Like clockwork, your brow arched upon seeing the movements that followed yours: Eddie clicking his seatbelt. “Look, don’t give me that look, I already know what you’re about to say, but please, just let me come in, and help you.” You huffed, letting your eyes bounce from the window to his face that was hardened with determination. “C’mon, let me make it up to you this one time.”

Another defeated ‘fine’ was murmured under your breath, as Eddie made the quick trip to help you out of the car. “Just head back, man, I’ll call you when I need to.” Numerous bills were discreetly slid into the hands of the driver, before he took his cue to leave the neighborhood.

“Hey, Y/N!” The blizzarding winter left the precisely planted trees along the sidewalk to lose their green shrubbery; your one shield from the sun that still blazed its light down the Demember wind. But through the glares, you matched that voice to the friendly neighbor who lent you his ladder… and subsequently took you to the hospital once you fell off.

“Oh, hi, Trevor!” You waved to him from atop of his stairs, as you caught sight of the reusable bags of groceries in his hand.

“Hm, Trevor.” Eddie hummed quietly beside you.

Despite the cold, he took the needed steps down to speak to you at a volume that didn’t require yelling. “Hey, I’m sorry for leaving you at the hospital so suddenly, Andreas’ car broke down when she tried to leave from work, and I had to go help her-”

“Oh, please, don’t worry about it, it’s okay!” You reassured him from any guilt. “Seriously, I was out for most of my time there, and you already helped so much with bringing me there.”

“Yeah, and I was going to head back to check on you, but they told me your partner-”

“Yeah, me! Y’know…” Eddie interjected with a wave, as you suppressed the roll from your eye, watching him proudly identify himself as such with an eager point of his finger.

“Yeah, hey, Eddie, been a long time since I’ve seen ya, man-”

“Oh, Y/N! Trevor told me all about you!” Andreas' voice echoed from the front door, as her robe clung closely to her body in an effort to house any warmth she could. “How are you feeling? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, nothing to worry about, just a couple stitches and a concussion.” As polite as they were, your flannel was only doing so much to shield you from the cold, which was already in hand causing that throb to return from the sharp blinding of the sun. Why wouldn’t they shut up?

Eddie watched the twitch of your eye succumb to your expression. If anything from the last seven years taught him anything, it was that you were two sentences away from a fully engraved scowl chiseling your face; always so unaware of how blatant your emotions showcased. “Speaking of which, I should probably go get her to lay down, and rest!” Eddie smiled, as he took your hand up the stairs to your front door.

“Of course, no problem.” Trevor kindly smiled. “And, hey, keep my ladder as long as you need, don’t worry about it.”

An exchange of ‘thank you’s’ finally allowed your neighbor to leave you be, as the key slid into the lock of your door. “That was Andrea, his girlfriend. Are you gonna be jealous if I speak to her, too?”

His laughter warmed the chilled air that smoked his breath. “Fuck off, sweetheart.”

Your house had been all but welcoming upon the first steps. A puddle of blood had stained your wooden floor with the injuries of your head, as fallen garlands messily draped down your walls from your lack of skills with a hammer and nail. You’d never admit to him in a lifetime, but Eddie Munson was surely right that you, personally, were too dimwitted to use tools with no guidance. Turns out a leveler and stud sensor were actually quite useful in keeping your house from being hammered with the countless holes that now decorated your walls. You watched Eddie take in the amateur scenery, his will working overtime to stifle the chuckle that quivered his lips thin. “You make any comments, and I’ll kick you out.”

His hands flew up in defense. “I wasn’t going to say anything- although, how gnarly would a photo of your blood be as our next album cover?”

Giggles of shock coming from you rang in his ear like a catchy melody. “Listen, you came here to help, so please do. I want to shower, and sleep-”

“And eat. That hospital food was shit.” He prioritized. “Go shower, I’ll make you some breakfast,” his watch proved otherwise, “or lunch, I guess, and you can eat before you sleep- oh! And take your medicine, as well. I’ll switch out your bandages when you’re done showering. Don’t worry about anything here, okay? Just relax for me.”

And you did just so, following the words of his advice brought you to the warmth of your shower, where your limbs fell slack from destressing. You worked around the stitching of your head that stung under hot water, as you maneuvered your hair through the rainfall of the showerhead. But too much steam was beginning to blur your vision, and your shower was cut unfortunately short after you swiftly rid your body of any lingering antiseptic smell that clung to you.

“Ow, Eddie!” Your hand squeezed his, as your forehead became cushioned by the tone of his torso, where he stood before you.

As you sat on the toilet, he looked down, and caressed your head gently. “Sorry, sweetheart, just gotta get it clean, ‘s all.” A new square of gauze concealed your wound, before a long strip of bandage secured itself around your forehead. Your head lifted from the comfort of his belly, and he bent at the waist to examine your face. A smile grew so naturally. “There… beautiful as always.” There was no denying the lunge in your heart that soared at his words, but your stubbornness withheld the swoon that would have usually followed with a new inure look to your face. Eddie guffawed at your pertinaciousness. “Fine, I hope you know you have a bald spot on the back of your head.”

And he devilishly smiled at your sudden movements to feel around your hair. “It’s only because of the stitches.” You gruffed in protest. “Plus, what the back of my head looks like is none of my business.”

“Still, you’re balding before me.”

And you wanted so desperately to wipe that smirk off his face. “Push back your bangs right now.”

Touche. “You should really eat your food before I spit in it.”

You had the liberty of delving into Eddie Munson’s personally made lukewarm tomato soup, and a sandwich so untimely perfect, the burnt bread did little to match the cheese that surely did not melt. And yet, it did everything to fill that little hole in your heart, as one bite brought you back to the cozy trailer, where endless nights were spent concocting meals from ingredients that scientifically went together, but for some reason refused to work when Eddie touched them.

He left you alone in the comfort of your bedroom that was once shared with him, as you quietly endured enjoyed your meal, and sat with the events that came about. Seeing Eddie had tumultuously screwed with your already bruised head, and set you back a mile on the path to peace. Where you blamed yourself over the rise of bubbling feelings, you also gave yourself the grace of remembering this man had been the love of your life for seven years. Facing him would be anything but peaceful, and yet, his stupid, round face managed to conjure that settling tranquility of deep contentment within your heart that only ever built under his hands of love and care. But he also managed to tear it, and that was something beyond the repairs of five months apart. No matter how brutal. Your pillow still stained with the tears of endless cries over the insecurities of no longer being good enough for him. But if you sniffed deep enough, his burrowed cologne would fume into your nose at night that allowed you to gain a safe sleep during the dark hours.

How polarizing he could be was beyond the study of any scientist.

Between the last slurp of your soup, your eyes succumbed to the heaviness of your eyelids, as what was intended to be a half an hour nap prolonged into a five hour doze, until the sun decided to rest for the evening, bleeding its red into a darkening sky. As advised by your doctor, a couple pills were to be popped to alleviate that ache that would haunt you for days to come, so with a march to the kitchen ahead, you called for the man you needed most. “Eddie!” Drowned by your tiredness, your voice did little to amplify his name from the second floor. “Eddie!” But a second call of his name proved to be useless when nothing followed in return.

Dr. Rosenthal surely hadn’t been lying about the aftermath of dizziness, as the simple event of walking down your staircase had turned into an olympic sport that nearly caused another blow to your head if it hadn’t been for the obscene tightness of your grip on the railing that descended. “Eddie, seriously! I’ve been calling you, can’t you hear?!”

The quietness of your home answered back, as you approached the bottom steps of the stairs, where suddenly soft lights straightened the blurred lines of your eyes to the clarity of a beautiful glow. Warm lanterns and sticks of candles kindled your chimney and center table, where red bows of various sizes decorated themselves along your living room to match the ribbon of your Christmas tree that had not been put up prior to your waking. Sweet scents of cinnamon and pines worked magically to calm the agitated nerves of your head, and your eyes dragged in awe to the breathtaking display of green garlands that dressed your home to the Christmas perfection you always dreamed of.

Your eyes watered, and though you knew he wouldn’t answer, you still quietly spoke. “Eddie?”

So simple, yet so fulfilling, your heart soared at the work of his hands that ached for your happiness. While it did not amount to the pain he once dragged you through, a meaningful smile that hadn’t been flashed in months finally etched its place onto your face where it perfectly belonged.

And much to your dismay, but simultaneously your biggest hope… it was because of him.

While it broke your spirit for his efforts to take so long to return, you smiled through your hurting cries, as you finally gained the wish for your Eddie—once lost, now running through the wooded path to be found—to return. And with it, a note to keep your heart content with the soundness of peace. Whether it be with Eddie. Whether it not be with Eddie.

At the very least, you got your Christmas spirit.

Management wants to bitch me out, I’m sorry I had to leave you :( but I’m gonna convince ‘em to let me stay in Indy for a while. Kinda hard to say no to a face like mine, you know? You know. Call me to make sure you’re okay, sweetheart, or I’ll break into your house! - Love, Eddie

P.S, gave Trevor his ladder back, so don’t speak to him :)

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader

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milkb0nny · 11 months

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Hii 👋🏼 Can you do an Ivar x floki daughter? They were raised together and she was his only friend when he was younger because she wasn't scared and he'll always protect her.

Older she become a healer of the village, and one day floki want her to marry ubble/hwitserk and Ivar become very very jaloux..👀

You can make fluff/smut/ angst as you want!

thank u 🤍☺️

Sorry for my English it’s not my first language

Jealous Games

Ivar the Boneless x fem!reader

Summary: One day, your father enters your room, unveiling that your parents want you to marry Ubbe. Though, the past years you grew feeling for another man: Ivar. You never told anyone about your true feelings for the man but now that Ubbe is supposed to be your husband, you feel utterly broken down. Refusing the offer, you leave the scene, only to discover a life changing secret...

Note: Thank you SO much for this request. It was a lot of fun writing it. I enjoyed writing this particular request more than I should've. 🤍 I hope you'll like it!

Warnings: slight angst (nothing graphic), forced possible marriage, mentions of anger issues, detailed kissing scene

Genres: slight angst, fluff

word count: 2.445

Ivar's childhood was shrouded in a tapestry of dark grays and blacks, a period marked by relentless bullying, discrimination, and a stark absence of love. love. Amid this harsh environment, Aslaug, his devoted mother, stood as one of the few adults who genuinely embraced him. Yet, even her unwavering love couldn't quell the relentless growth of his simmering anger. But, within these somber times, there existed a glimmer of hope - a hope that emerged when you entered his life.

Ivar adored Floki, viewing him as his own father and protector. Whenever the cruelty of both children and adults bore down upon him, Floki served as a steadfast anchor, and so did you. Your friendship started with a shy hesitation.

Helga and Floki, your parents, had taught you to always accept others, no matter how they looked like. You watched your father engage with Ivar, teaching him the art of weaponry and regaling him with Nordic sagas. You had shared them whenever you wanted company and as a result, the two of you became friends.

As the years passed, your bond with Ivar deepened. He shielded you from any unwelcome advances, such as nasty men, while you provided solace during his most challenging moments. Together, you embarked on hunting expeditions, sharing meals at Ivar's dwelling with his family.

Fortunately, his mother held you in high regard. She possessed a strict demeanor when it came to the women who orbited around her beloved sons, yet she understood your unshakable bond with Ivar. With open arms, she welcomed you whenever you graced her home with your cherished friend.

Of course you faced discriminating comments and remarks from time to time because of Ivar, though you stayed by Ivar’s side. You were the only woman who glimpsed Ivar's vulnerabilities, the only girl who had witnessed his anguished tears and experienced the gentleness that lay beneath his hard exterior during your shared childhood.

You knew him, cherished him, and secretly, perhaps even loved him. Yet, you concealed your affections, carrying them within your heart, as your father saw you both as siblings. Sure, you grew up together and were basically one person, but you could also love him, right?

You kept your adoration hidden and you honestly were fine with it because you remained close to Ivar but you always faced struggles when a woman tried to seduce him. You were a strong and loving woman, supporting a man whom few understood or respected.

In recent years, you had devoted your time to the study of science and honed your skills as a healer. Your knowledge extended to various herbs and methods to mend any kind of injury. Ivar sought your counsel frequently, valuing the conversations you shared.

The atmosphere between you was one of relaxation, love, and kindness, something that Ivar rarely encountered in his tumultuous life. He harbored deep emotions for you, but fear held him back. Rejection had been his constant companion throughout life, even from his own father, Ragnar Lothbrok. This fear of rejection crippled him, making him hesitant to express his emotions to you.

One day, your father entered your room with an unusual expression. You initially assumed he was about to share one of Floki's eccentric ideas, as was his habit. Therefore a bright smile creeped over your lovely face, greeting your father. However, what he proposed was far from comforting; it shattered your heart in a matter of seconds.

“I've been thinking about arranging a marriage between you and Ubbe,” he said, his words falling like lead..

You raised your eyebrows, believing that he joked at first but his serious expression remained - he meant it.

“Uh, father. I don’t know if I-,” you began, only to be interrupted by his eager explanation.

“I thought you’d remain close to Ivar and find a man who truly treats you right. I know Ubbe is a good man who will respect you,” he continued.

You pondered his words briefly, acknowledging that Ubbe was a compassionate and respectful man who held women in high regard. During your childhood, you had formed a fondness for him, but it was far from romantic.

No, you truly despised the idea.

“Father, I don't wish to marry," you protested vehemently, rejecting Floki's wishes, which he met with displeasure. You couldn't fathom joining hands with a man you didn't love, especially if it were your true love's brother. The thought left you with an overwhelming sense of unease.

“Child, you've reached a point in your life where you need a man to protect you. You're all on your own, and we're concerned," he voiced his genuine worries. While you understood his concerns, this request felt like an intrusion on your own autonomy, a call you couldn't embrace. You preferred making your parents proud and being a memorable member of Kattegat, but this wasn’t your true faith.

You were bound to none other than Ivar the Boneless, a man whose depths you knew better than your own skills as a healer. As you sat there, Floki's hand swept across his weary face, his gaze avoiding yours as he delivered the unimaginable truth.

“Ubbe has asked for your hand in marriage, and we've already agreed with Aslaug. The decision has been made, my dear," he disclosed, a heavy burden of heartache settling upon you. Tears welled in your eyes, and your cheeks flushed with the ache of this revelation.

“No, Father,” you protested, your voice quivering from the shock of their decision, made without your consent.

“We only want you to be happy," Floki tried to bridge the emotional chasm, but his words fell on deaf ears. You were consumed by fury, your emotions tearing at you, digging a chasm within your heart.

“I’m not!” You cried out, finally allowing your pent-up emotions to pour forth. "I'm not happy, Father. You have a woman you love, and Mother loves you too. Why can't I?” You shouted while tears ran down your soft skin, falling onto the ground. You sobbed uncontrollably.

“No, don’t think that,” Floki tried to console you, his heart aching as he witnessed your distress. After all, you were his beloved daughter, a sweet and loving child he cherished. Right now, you feared the fatherly connection was breaking apart.

“I’m not marrying Ubbe! I’d rather die,” you declared, your voice barely a whisper but loud enough for your father to comprehend. With those words hanging heavily in the air, you rose and fled the room, leaving your father behind. As you left the building you came across Ubbe, who of course knew about the idea before you did, though you rage signalized that you weren’t enlightened.

Floki followed closely, calling your name, but your steps quickened with each utterance. Ultimately, you ran away, seeking refuge in the familiar embrace of the Kattegat forest, a place you knew intimately. You spent a lot of time in the forests and fields to collect herbs and plants, sometimes even staying overnight in summer. With your father, mother, Ubbe, and the impending marriage fading into the background, you retreated into the solitude of the woods. Little did you know your secret significant other just found out about the marriage through Sigurd.

“You’re telling me, y/n is going to marry my brother?” The crackling fire of the fireplace represented Ivar’s slight rage as he received the information.

Sigurd understood that you were Ivar's soft spot, and while he relished the opportunity to tease his brother, he also conveyed the truth. Aslaug had kept this secret from Ivar, knowing precisely what she was doing.

“Yes. Ubbe is the eldest among us brothers, so it only makes sense for him to claim one of the town's most important women, Ivar,” Sigurd explained while deftly carving a sculpture from wood.

Ivar despised the idea entirely, his lips chewed raw as he gazed out the window. It was not Ubbe's right to simply take any woman, especially not you. He believed Ubbe was not meant for your delicate being, no matter how loving, respectful, and kind he might be. At least in the eyes of the Ragnarsson, Ubbe would never be worthy.

As the evening progressed, Ubbe and Floki entered the brothers' home. Ivar remained silent, seething with anger and disappointment. However, he was not Ubbe's primary concern.

“Ubbe, she ran way. I cannot force her,” Floki implored Ubbe to reconsider.

“Floki, it’s not your fault. I love her though, and you know it. I’d treat her with everything she desires and I’ll love the children she will bear,” Ubbe explained, greeting Sigurd and Ivar with a small nod.

“You don't love her if you'll force her to marry you," Ivar's words were cold and stern, his anger barely contained.

“Excuse me?” Ubbe was taken aback by the accusation.

Finally, Ivar’s jealousy piqued and he looked up to his brother, “You heard me. She doesn’t love you. She never will!” His words struck like a shock.

Sigurd, joining the conversation, couldn't resist a taunt, “Oh, are your little feelings hurt because she won’t hop in bed with you? Poor Ivar.”

Oh, how much Ivar hated these people, these cruel brothers who always take his hope away. They rob him of his freedom, his excitement and love. They always seemed to achieve everything, while Ivar was left with nothing but solitude and heartache. As the tension simmered within the dimly lit room, Ivar's words hung heavy in the air, causing a palpable rift between the brothers.

“Ivar, you have no right to dictate her heart. She's a woman with her own choices," Ubbe retorted, his voice carrying an air of defiance.

Ivar scoffed as a response to this unsolicited statement. It wasn’t Ivar who was trying to force himself upon you, it was Ubbe. All his life Ivar did nothing to pressure you or force you to do something. You had been safe around him, no burdens dragging you down when you had spent time together.

Sigurd, needing to provoke Ivar further, leaned in with a sly smile, "Is that so, Ivar? Or are you just afraid she might choose someone else over you?"

The youngest among them decided to not react to the jokes Sigurd made as he intentionally tried to fuel Ivar’s anger. While Ivar was torn between his immense longing for you and the realization that he might never be able to offer you the love and protection you deserved, Ivar couldn't help but feel that marrying Ubbe was wrong. The young Ragnarsson decided to leave the situation, searching for you.

They didn’t, but Ivar did.

Meanwhile, you had found safety in the forest, away from the prying eyes and expectations of your family and the town of Kattegat. There, you wandered aimlessly. As you reached a small, shallow river, you placed yourself on a rock. The silence and peace gave you enough room to reflect on the horrible decision of your parents.

You couldn’t deny your love for Ivar anymore. Whenever you thought about becoming Ubbe’s wife, Ivar’s face popped up on your mind. He was the fragile yet strong man you truly desired with your whole heart.

Tears still covered your face, seeking their way down into the cold water of the river.

It was in this melancholic moment that you spotted a familiar face among the shadows. Ivar’s presence unveiled itself on the other side of the river. His intense blue eyes, filled with a mixture of longing and despair, locked onto yours.

“Y/n,” he called your name out, his voice heavy with emotion.

You blinked a few times and a broken, yet warm smile rushed over your lips. You stood up, jumping over the small width of the river, getting closer to Ivar.

“Ivar…,” you whispered, seating you down next to him.

Even though you appreciated his company, your heart couldn’t bear to look into his loyal eyes. Alone the fact others think you and Ubbe would be a suitable couple made you feel dirty.

Ivar’s eyes remained locked on you, his voice filling the silence between you, “You… you don’t want to marry my brother, right?”

You frantically shook your head as an answer.

Ivar came a little closer, his eyes never leaving yours.

"I can't stand the thought of you being with him," he confessed, his vulnerability laid bare. Jealousy or not, his emotions were genuine and Ivar thrived for your love. Yet, he never told you.

“Ivar,” you whispered, contemplating whether you should reveal your intimate feelings. “Ubbe isn’t the man I want to call husband. Of course he’s intelligent and a wonderful fighter, though…”

Ivar’s soothing voice interjected, “I want you to stay by my side.”

Finally, a massive amount of weight released the both of you, and you widened your eyes in surprise. His confession lightened a fire inside you that you had guessed was already banished. A smile lingered on your lips while you replayed his words again and again in your mind. He asked you to remain his, not to become Ubbe’s woman or anyone else’s.

His eyes expressed his fear of rejection, since you two had shared a unique relationship he couldn’t put together. Your beautiful smile warmed his mind though, letting his hope grow little by little.

Your heart quickened in response to the significant magnetic pull between you. Softly, you said the words you had longed to say the past years.

“Ivar, I love you.”

Without a further word, Ivar reached out, his hand gently cupping your cheek. His touch was both tender and possessive, as if he wanted to memorize every inch of your face. He never held you like this - a whole new level of trust and intimacy unveiled itself. His passion and your admiration mixed together.

Slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss. You didn’t know how a kiss normally feels like, but you knew his kiss was the right thing. His lips were warm and inviting, and his breath mingled with yours, creating an intimate connection that defied the existence of everything but your shared love for one another.

It was a kiss filled with unspoken promises - the weight of unexpressed emotions that were kept hidden for many years. It was a kiss that spoke of a love that had always been there, just waiting to be acknowledged, waiting to bloom, waiting to emerge.

When he gently pulled away, your hearts were racing, and a breathless silence hung between you.

Ivar's eyes stared into yours, filled with a raw intensity that left no room for doubt. He loved you too.

“No one will take your hand, except for me, Ástvinur.”

#vikings ivar #ivar ragnarsson #i'm crying #ivar the boneless #vikings x you #vikings x reader #vikings #ivar lothbrok #ivar x reader

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