#they’re friends with Imagine Dragons | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

diejager · 3 days

Note

I have a fucking insane idea based on a DnD thing I saw once lmao. So basically, if someone went through an immense amount of trauma, it could sort of manifest into another being used for self defense. This being was literally only limited by their imagination. It could be a damn house cat or a fucking dragon. It was basically an extension of their body that was a result of a dangerous or traumatic situation. It could help with other tasks as well, but its main purpose is defense. I need to see the men react to this, I’m begging

Monster au. Plz

~🧋

Cw: trauma, inaccurate magic, tell me if I missed any.

They were familiar with all kind of magic. Be it Old Magics and Magiks, enchantments, hexes, curses, dark arts, and everything known to the world, yours was…. peculiar. Quite peculiar for a person without any ties to a magical lineage or prior knowledge of powers. You were just a normal human - as normal as you could be with all your fearlessness towards monsters and hybrids alike - with a few unique perks and qualities, but a human no less. You weren’t any different from your parents, your extended family or any friends. A mortal with soft flesh, resilient and persevering, wild imaginations and genial abilities to adapt and conquer, and yet, were so, so fragile.

They hadn’t expected it, with Farah - the only witch they personally knew - tied to Alex by the hip and always on the move, their repertoire of magical knowledge was lacking. So, there was a mass of confusion between them, one that made understanding your strange ability difficult, but not impossible. They had Laswell’s help to sift through all existing records, some confidential, hidden under red tapes and confidentiality regulations, and others public, open to any curious eyes and prying noses.

The black Maine Coon that seemed to follow you, her lumbering figure and elegantly, curled fur that stood out among patches of grey and military green and browns of the base brought many questions, but all shrugged away at the mere sight of those piercing green eyes, vibrant lime that seemed to glow in darkness. She could light up the room with a single glance. It was as odd as it was menacing, and she was fiercely protective of you, shadowing your steps, curling her tail around your leg, laying on your lap when you sat and glaring at anyone who tried to approach you.

A spirit animal someone had commented, a guardian in the shape of a cat another had hushed. She was all speculations and would stay that way until someone found out more about your Maine Coon, or if someone grew a pair and actually asked you rather than treating it like a secret mission conducted behind your back. A mystery to resolve, a like game they thought it be amusing to play until you found them out or someone gave up after grueling weeks of hitting a brocade —a dead end.

It was fun and all, at least while it lasted. They felt like they were so close to figuring it out by themselves - pride and ego, you’d cackle. You’d have a field day laughing at them for them, then praise them for holding out so long - and Soap went out and begged for an answer.

“I was wondering when one of you would crack,” you smiled, running your fingers through her fur, brushing away knots and tangles, “Took you longer than I expected.”

You had known of their investigation, but never spoke up. It riled them up, a thrill at finally being given the knowledge they’re hungered for, an adrenaline that pumped from their hearts to know the answer. And you stalled, teasing them with the pretty curl of your lips, taking all the time you needed to have them squirm in their seats and hang at every word that fell from your mouth.

“She’s a… trauma response, of some kind. I don’t really know how or why, but she just appeared one day while I was recovering. I was confused,” you laughed, nuzzling her scruff when she sat up to lick your chin, “Really confused. But I did some tests, experiments out of sheer boredom and discovered she came from my mind- or a product of it.”

“Your mind..?”

“You know humans have vivid imaginations, as physically unfortunate we are, our minds are a… strange thing, and she came right out of it.”

“So she could be… anything?”

You threw your head back, pulling her up in your arms as if she was the lightest kitten ever, your smile so wide it was infectiously making them smile.

“Anything that my mind can conjure up.”

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce @sobbingnshtting

176 notes · View notes

yinyangswings · 1 year

Text

If Luffy had a Child

Finding out you’re pregnant, at first you think Chopper is joking. You hadn’t been able to keep food down lately, but your mind had never gone to the idea of you being pregnant. And you are terrified but Luffy (after being confused at first) seems excited. The crew are more or less alright with it.

The running joke as the pregnancy continues is that it can’t be that hard in comparison to dealing with Luffy on a daily basis.

Luffy agrees with them. Much to your dismay

Luffy forgets to tell Ace and Sabo about the fact you’re pregnant. So imagine the surprise felt when they meet up one day in a random port and there you are, about 5 months pregnant. Their expressions are hilarious.

“Luffy’s going to be a dad?!”

“Wait…we’re going to be UNCLES?!”

After the realization clicks in, both men are ecstatic and they don’t want to leave. Not until after you have the kid at least. Because they’re going to be uncles

Cue both brothers telling their friends and their own crew the news. The cheers from the Moby Dick can be heard through the Mushi Mushi Den for miles and when Sabo tells Koala and the others at first there is silence but Koala starts laughing and says that Dragon looked absolutely stunned and had had to walk out. There had been a smile on his face though.

Despite it being obvious that you were pregnant, it didn’t really seem to register with Luffy. He acted the same as he always does. That is until one night while you’re resting and he’s laying partially on you, cheek on your stomach and the baby kicks him in the face. He blinks and looks at the spot where the baby was and you just laugh gently. Then his face breaks into a bright smile.

After that he is always checking up on you and talking to the baby whenever he can. You find it endearing.

You go into labor at the worst possible time. Marines attacked the Thousand Sunny and Luffy had made you get downstairs and hide. Which you hated. You wanted to help the crew but they all wanted you safe.

Then all of sudden you’re in immense pain and practically collapse. You feel something wet pass between your legs and you come into a startling realization. You’re in labor. With a fight raging on above you.

You’d have laughed if you weren’t about to panic.

You try to keep it down, to not alert either your crew or the Marines. Thankfully it seems Chopper sensed your pain or heard your muffled screams. Something, because he’s suddenly there and then Chopper is instructing you on how to deliver. You’re rather impressed with yourself.

You can only hope that everything is going well above and that Luffy is alright.

You nearly crumple at a sudden contraction. You hope he’s okay because you’re going to kill him.

Meanwhile the fight is over after a little bit. Not a surprise as they picked a fight not only with the Strawhats, but Fire Fist Ace and Chief of Staff of the Revolutionary Army Sabo are there.

However the feeling of victory is short lived as a cry echoes out from below deck. You. Luffy has a look of panic on his face and he is down the stairs like a shot, the crew and his brothers not far behind.

Seconds before he reaches the door to the room he put you in, another cry fills the air, this one certainly not yours.

And as he stands there frozen another wail joins the previous one, echoing over one another.

What feels like an eternity goes by, and then he opens the door and there you are, exhausted, sweat dripping off of you and tears sliding down your face. Chopper is flitting around two small squirming bundles that are in your grasp. And you’re smiling through your tears.

You look up finally and your smile widens. “Come here, Lu. Come say hi.”

And he does so, the quietest you can ever remember him being as he cranes his neck to see both small infants in your grasp. Twins, he hears. A boy and a girl. And they’re….tiny. Smaller than he expected, wrinkly, and pink. They have dark fuzz adorning their heads. But their little lungs are making sure everyone knows that they are both fine and dandy.

In the background, he can sort of hear his brothers beginning to sob because they’re now uncles. But he can’t hear them over the sound of his heartbeat.

When he’s handed one, he can hear her little heart beating under his fingertips. And for once in his life, Monkey D. Luffy is still, just staring at his kids. And then his face breaks out into the biggest smile you’ve ever seen.

The crew absolutely adore the babies when they meet them. Every single member of the crew, even Zoro, is grinning at the sight of the littlest members of their crew. It’s fairly obvious that those babies are going to be so spoiled. Likewise, Sabo and Ace are OVER THE MOON when they see their little niece and nephew, each one getting to hold one of them at the same time. To say they’re going to be doting uncles is an understatement. Those two are in love in the instant they see the two.

And it is chaos. That’s the easiest way to describe Luffy with his children. Pure and utter chaos. He usually has them wrapped up in slings on his chest and back and everyone can hear the babies squealing and giggling as their father bounces around Sunny having the times of their little lives.

The Strawhats find it adorable.

The one thing that there is little doubt about is that those two children are loved by the entire crew. If they’re not with one of their parents, they're with a crew member, always safe and protected. No one has to ever doubt that those crew members would protect those children with their lives

In the same vein, if anyone attempts to go after the twins, it’s not a question of if they die. It’s how.

Because if the Strawhats don’t kill them, if any of their allies get wind of what was attempted or done, there will be no rest until they’re either captured or killed by any of them.

Ace and Sabo would be in the lead.

Garp finds out about the twins months later. Just happens to cross paths with his grandson who is proudly sporting the twins in their slings as usual. Garp is…stunned to say the least.

“When did you grab those babies, you brat!?”

“They’re mine!”

“What do you mean they’re yours?!”

“Gramps, don’t you know where babies come from?”

“YOU IDIOT! OF COURSE I DO!”

The yelling continues for a long while, long enough for you to grab the twins for lunch time. At that point Garp makes his way onto the ship because he actually wants to meet his great-grandson and great-granddaughter face to face.

The twins are part of the exclusive group of people who can touch Luffy’s hat. They play peek-a-boo with it and regularly enjoy pulling it down their daddy’s face because when they lift it, he has a silly expression that makes them laugh brightly. They are his little treasures.

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece headcanons #monkey d. luffy #monkey d. luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy x you #monkey d. luffy headcanon #monkey d. luffy imagine #monkey d. garp #portgas d. ace #sabo the revolutionary #straw hat crew #jamfics

1K notes · View notes

theminecraftbee · 10 months

Text

Grian comes to again, flat on his back, and groans. Distantly, he hears Scar yelling an apology. It’s hard to tell if Scar had accidentally dropped sand, accidentally kicked one of the dragon eggs currently littering their bases (causing it to fall), or had missed concrete somewhere and caused that to drop, but the apology, this time, was at least sincere, so he’s fairly certain Scar didn’t intentionally knock Grian out. Doesn’t mean Grian hadn’t been knocked on his ass by, what, a pavlovian reaction to sand? But it means Scar hadn’t been intentionally exploiting it.

He’s rubbing his head when he hears them chittering distantly. He looks up, and then he Looks up, just to make sure he’s not imagining it, and… yep, they’re there. The Watchers. They’re busy happily chittering about the fact that Grian passes out when any block falls to the ground. Of course they are. He wonders if this is their fault. Probably not; Watchers may be annoying, but they can’t see the future, so it’s not like they’d have known about the egg thing ahead of time. No, they’re probably just amused at his suffering.

Joke’s on them. This is mostly just going to make cleaning up slower. And they’re going to have to deal with that too, on account of the fact Grian can’t do much else until it’s done.

He’s trying to hit another egg with a piston when he hears, distantly, “shoot, the beach!”, realizes what has happened, and then he’s waking up on the ground again. He stares at the sky for a moment.

“Trust Scar with sand, I thought. He terraforms all the time, I thought. He won’t keep messing me up with it, I thought.” He groans.

The chittering of the Watchers gets louder. He hears a lot of ‘Scar’ and ‘sand’ and ‘he can’t bear it’ and. Great. Grian’s pretty sure he knows what comment is coming next—

you’ve never left that desert.

“So this is your fault!” he says, accusingly. “Why! All it’s done is make my life more confusing!”

Indistinct noises. At one point, when Grian had been more one of them than he is now, he had been able to tell all of the voices apart easily. Now, the Watchers are somewhere between the wall of incomprehensible, horrible sound that they are to mortals and normal voices. He has to strain to pick out anything overly specific. He supposes if he chose to go all Watcher again he’d be able to tell what they’re saying, but frankly, they’re all annoying, so why would he bother? Better to stick to things as they are.

He messages Scar: If you drop sand one more time I am going to figure out how to add more dragon eggs to your base.

Scar messages back: its an accideet

Grian responds one more time: lol. accideet.

He takes a moment before standing up to check around himself. Scar does seem to have moved on from whatever he’d been doing with terraforming to keep dropping gravity blocks, so it’s probably safe to stand without passing out again. What had he been doing? Right. Eggs. Piston.

you never left that desert, Grian hears again from the wall of noise.

“Right. That’s me. Never left,” Grian says. Honestly.

can’t stand the sight of scar and sand.

“You know you guys are reaching, right?” Grian says.

never left—

“I would if you’d let me!” snaps Grian.

Indistinct chittering. Deep breaths. He’s fine. He's apparently developed sand-based epilepsy or something, and is trying to find the solution to that, but. Fine. He’s fine. It’s not like arguing with Watchers is ever actually worth it. They never change their mind. The thing is that they tend to think they know exactly how he works, and no matter how much he tries to refute their baseless assumptions, they still have a picture in their head, and they still keep working off of it.

A strange shudder runs down his back.

you never left that desert.

“Look, it’s not that I’m not over it,” Grian says. “I’m actually pretty over it. I’ve been over it since Last Life, really, even if none of you believe me.” He puts another egg in his inventory. “Scar’s my friend and he’s a weird guy and I like him, but it’s not like I’m not over that stupid game. Wouldn’t keep playing it if I weren’t over it, would I?”

Indistinct chittering about tragedy and deserts and dramatic final suicides and, look, Grian is good at telling stories. That’s the whole point. That’s why these guys won’t leave him alone. But sometimes, he swears…

“So you know, I would have left the desert by now. It’s just that you all haven’t. So guess who’s still stuck here? Believe me, it’s not me who’s not over it. If you wanted me out of the desert, you could let me leave any time you’d l—”

He has a second’s warning before he’s on the ground, dizzy, hoping he hasn’t gotten a concussion. He glances down at his communicator.

Mumbo says: that was me this time my bad

Shakily, Grian types: you have 10 seconds. start running.

The chittering gets more distant. Grian gets up. He checks to make sure his wings are on. He goes to light a rocket, but not before shouting: “Scar, if you do anything with gravity blocks while I am actively flying I will kill you dead!”

“Have fun buddy!” Scar shouts back. Grian’s not sure Scar actually heard a word he said. Well, hopefully there will be no sand falling from his hands while he goes to murder Mumbo, then. If there is, Grian’s—well, Grian’s going to have a broken bone at that rate, but he’s recovered from far worse falls. Some of those have even been Scar’s fault, by some measure or another.

He Looks back up at the mass he knows are the Watchers. “If this is you all’s fault because you never seem to have gotten over the whole desert thing, I’ll find a way to, I don’t know. Inconvenience you greatly. Not sure what I’ll do, but I’ll figure it out.”

The chittering gets way more fond, then. Pleased. They want him to do that. Can’t even threaten the assholes properly, they like it. Honestly, Grian doesn’t know why he bothers. It’s not like they’ll listen. No matter how many times he says he’s over it, it’s not like they’ll listen.

(Sometimes, he hates that he’s so good at stories.)

Right then. Time to wreak havoc on his friends for exploiting his very exploitable weakness, then. This sword’s got sharpness on it, right?

------

(originally written for @hermitcraftguesstheauthorevent, and posted on ao3 here; now that it's revealed, i figured i'd go ahead and post it here, since it really matches the cadence of one of my tumblr things more than an ao3-only fic. enjoy!)

#hermitcraft #grian #the watchers #desert duo #KIND OF? i think this COUNTS?#a bee fic #anyway guess the author was cool! thank you so much <3 #wrote this like immediately after the falling sand stuff came out as a musing on some of the ways people were talking abotu it #you know how it is. sometimes you've gotta metacommentary.

595 notes · View notes

spookyscarydemonbabe · 1 year

Text

Eddie’s Girl

A/N- I wanted to take a little break from constantly writing my smut fics, and i feel like i’ve been neglecting our sweet Eddie 🥺 i wanted to write something cute and kinda funny :p

Summary- Eddie’s been dying to have his friends meet his new girlfriend but while they’re waiting for Eddie to show up with her they all try to see who can win the affections of the girl sitting across from them at the mall. Her boyfriend wouldn’t like that one bit…

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- None :)

Tag List- @imagine-all-the-imagines @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @munsonology @esme-viridian @eddiesrockstargirlfriend

Word Count- 1.7k

Grant sighed as he checked his watch, seeing that not only was Eddie late, but Eddie was late with his so-called ‘smoke show, super gorgeous, absolute dime’ of a girlfriend.

“I knew it was too good to be true.”

Jeff and Gareth chuckled from next to him, Gareth crossing his arms,

“I feel like he definitely thought we wouldn’t believe him, so it’s funny that we’re all sitting here waiting.”

“It’s only been five minutes,” Jeff said from in between them, “if he’s not here in another five, then we’ll go and tell him we looked like idiots for waiting.”

They had agreed to all meet Eddie and his girlfriend at the mall, just to get to know her better. Eddie made sure to let you know that if you were dating him, he was a package deal. If his friends didn’t like you then it was kind of a deal breaker.

Of course he didn’t mean it, but he still wanted you to get along with his friends.

“Alright fine,” Gareth said, Grant and himself agreeing with Jeff who surprisingly was the voice of reason, “but what are we supposed to do until then? We’ve already been waiting for like 20 minutes…”

“I don’t know about you guys, but i’ve found it pretty easy to sit around when we’ve got some eye candy like that.” Jeff said, motioning over to you.

You were sat on the bench across from them, your legs crossed, purse resting next to you, a book open in your lap.

“Oh, i see. You don’t give a shit if Eddie shows up with her or not, you just want to keep ogling that girl.” Grant glanced over to you and looked you up and down as Jeff did.

“Yeah, but you guys are staring too aren’t you?”

“I mean of course we are, she’s hot. We’re not just going to NOT stare a girl like that…”

The three of them tried their best to be discreet, but every time you glanced up over to them they all quickly looked away, trying to make it seem like they weren’t staring at you from across the way. Each time you caught them you smiled a bit, but unfortunately they mistook that as a smile of you wanting them to approach you.

They were harmless, but you didn’t want them getting the wrong idea from you.

“Hey,” Gareth nudged Jeff, “she’s smiling at us, you think she wants us to talk to her?”

“Us? No fucking way, girls that hot don’t want guys like us, they go for the ‘Rob Lowe’ or the ‘Tom Cruise’ kind of guys. And we play Dungeons and Dragons in a high school drama room. She doesn’t want us.”

Gareth sighed and slapped his hands to his knees before standing up from the bench,

“Only one way to find out.”

“The fuck is he doing?…” Grant said to Jeff as they watched him make his way over to you, though they could clearly tell from the way he was clenching and unclenching his fists that he was incredibly nervous.

The moment you looked up from your book as he approached you nearly made him stop in his tracks, but luckily, the other two boys stood up and slowly made their way over to you and Gareth. At least they could make an attempt to save him if he fucked up, which he most likely would.

Gareth stood before you for a moment, only staring down at you with the lightest blush to his cheeks, his palms clearly sweaty as they kept clenching and unclenching at his sides. He had never gotten this close to a girl as pretty as you, which meant he clearly had no idea what he was doing. He wasn’t even sure why he got up in the first place but he was already this far, he might as well follow through with it. But the moment you looked up to him with a sweet smile he completely lost all thoughts clouding his brain. God, you were so fucking pretty.

You giggled as he stood there in front of you,

“Hi?”

Gareth didn’t even know how to respond to a simple ‘hi’ from you, but once Jeff slapped him on the back he spurted out the most nervous “Hi…” you’ve ever heard.

You looked to Jeff and Grant who stood on either side of him,

“Can i help you?”

“No, sorry,” Jeff said with a nervous laugh, “we just wanted to come over and say hi, and now we have so let’s go-“

“No! No, i wanted to… um…” Gareth nearly shouted as he cut off Jeff, looking around you to try and find something he could bring up in a conversation that wouldn’t make him seem like a complete idiot for approaching and staring at you.

He saw you holding the book open in your lap and his eyes widened,

“Ask what book you were reading.”

“Oh!” You said with a smile and lifted up the cover to show him, “It’s called The Nest, it’s by Gregory Douglas.”

“Cool! Um…” Gareth smiled and cleared his throat, still wanting so badly to talk to you but having no idea how to. Thank god Jeff and Grant were there to save him.

“What’s it about?” Grant asked.

“It’s about these mutant roaches that start attacking and eating people. It’s pretty gory but i like it.”

“That sounds like a pretty good book.”

You nodded with a smile and there were a few moments of awkward silence as the three of them stood before you, Gareth still staring.

You pursed your lips before closing your book and placing it into your purse,

“Is there something else i can help you with?”

“Actually, yes.” Gareth stepped forward, shaking Jeff’s hand off of his shoulder after he finally found the courage to not be so scared of talking to you. You were just some girl, albeit a goddess of a girl, but you were still just a girl.

“I’m sorry if this might sound weird, i know we really don’t know each other or anything, but i think you’re really pretty. I just wanted to ask if maybe you wanted to do something?… With me?…”

“Or just with us in general,” Jeff stepped forward next to Gareth, wanting to at least try and make an attempt to save his friend if you did think the offer was anything other than him just being nervous, “we noticed you here alone and if you need some people to hang around with you’re welcome to hang around with us.”

You smiled and laughed a bit awkwardly at their offer.

They seemed harmless, most of the teenage boys you knew were, but as nice as they were you had other obligations that you needed to deal with.

“I’m sorry, that’s a sweet offer, but i’m actually meeting someone here soon. My boyfriend.” You stood up from the bench and slung your purse over your shoulder, “Maybe some other time though, ok? You guys seem really nice.”

They smiled and understood. They figured they would be rejected once again, it was something they were used to, though Gareth looked more defeated than Jeff and Grant at the mention of your boyfriend.

You gave them one last sweet smile before noticing the mop of curly hair on top of your boyfriends head as he approached you. You smiled big and your eyes brightened as soon as you saw him.

You stepped around the boys and quickly ran over to him, jumping up and wrapping your arms around his neck as he held you close,

“Eddie!” You peppered the side of his face with kisses, “You’re late, again!”

“I know, i’m sorry,” He planted a kiss to your temple as you jumped down, his arm going around your waist as you slowly walked back over to the benches you were sat at beforehand, “I got out of work a little later than expected and i didn’t want to show up all dirty and greasy. I hope you’re not too upset.”

“Of course not,” You leaned up and placed a kiss onto his cheek, “i know you didn’t mean it.”

Eddie led you back over to the benches where the guys still stood and they looked like they had just seen a ghost.

The gorgeous girl they had just been talking to, the one they all stared at, the one that Gareth just tried to ask out because he knew that hot girls like you would never say yes to a guy like him, was Eddie’s girlfriend.

You smiled at them once more, knowing now that the nice boys who you had been taking to were Eddie’s friends that he had been dying for you to meet. You figured they probably just didn’t know, but fortunately for you, Eddie had spent days telling you all about them. The moment you sat on that bench across from them, you knew they had to be friends of Eddie’s. Not to mention they dressed and acted exactly like he did, it was impossible for you to not assume they were friends.

You nuzzled into Eddies side as you approached them, and with a big smile on his face with his arm around you, Eddie finally formally introduced you to his friends,

“Hey guys, sorry i’m late.” The three of them shrugged it off, still in shock from their interaction with you, “This is (y/n).” He gave you a quick kiss on the temple, “My girlfriend. My very real girlfriend, may i add.”

You giggled and gave them a polite little wave from Eddie’s side,

“It’s nice to meet you guys.”

They all smiled and said hello, a few stutters and nervous laughs from them were scattered in between.

“So, what’re we gonna do? I think there’s a movie playing at the theater, you guys want to check it out?”

They nodded and agreed, at this point just going by whatever the first suggestion was to save themselves the embarrassment of making complete fools of themselves in front of you for not knowing you were Eddie’s girlfriend.

They made sure to walk in front of you and Eddie, and a few steps ahead of you at that, wanting to try and think of a way to redeem themselves with you. They didn’t want your first impression of them to be just some weird guys who approached you at the mall and had no idea how to talk to you.

Eddie smiled down at you and gave you a quick kiss as you made your way to the theater,

“They’re nice, i promise.”

You giggled and glanced over at them,

“I think they’ll like me.”

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic

1K notes · View notes

sailforvalinor · 3 months

Text

Imagine you’re a young boy. Your parents died very recently, which has left you and your two younger siblings on your own, and to provide for them, you resort to thievery. One day, you break into a pretty big house, and while you’re sneaking about trying to find something worth stealing, you stumble across a gorgeous book. You study it, intrigued—but as you never learned to read, you can’t understand a word of it. While you’re distracted, though, you’re discovered by the owner of the house—but instead of reacting like a normal person would upon being robbed, he sits down and starts teaching you how to read the book, doesn’t turn you in to the police, and then adopts you and your siblings.

Years pass. When you hit high school, your adopted dad enrolls you in a pretty prestigious private school, and you do very well—you’re very intelligent and do very well in your classes, and you make great friends who don’t judge you for your past. There are three things you’re known for in this school: 1) that you’re more than a bookworm, you’re a book dragon, 2) you can make a mean panini, and 3) your friendly-boy swag. You’re the class’ resident cinnamon roll, and everyone loves you. There are some odd things about this school, of course—your teacher is a new hire, and she doesn’t seem that much older than you? And it turns out, the class president is an irl celebrity.

But all in all, you’re having a good year. Until your adoptive dad gets convicted of planning to murder your principal and is killed resisting arrest? You’re obviously devastated, half in-shock that your dad could ever do such a thing, half-convinced that he must have been framed or been being used, but what can you do about it? You’re just a teenager.

The year goes on, and you’re doing alright, but other odd things keep happening. There’s a lot of political unrest, a lot rumors flying about (the class president has a crush on our teacher? No way, that has to be fake), but you try to keep your head down and mind your own business. You make more friends, you do well in school.

And then, at the end of the school year, after a very odd field trip, a girl from one of the other classes publicly announces that she’s planning to murder your principal (was she involved with your dad’s death???) and vanishes, and then your teacher dies in a freak accident.

A few more years pass. You’re doing alright—you’ve got custody of your younger siblings now, but you’re responsible, and they’re doing just fine. One day, you remember that you made a heat-of-the-moment promise to attend your high school reunion, and while you’re not sure whether anyone will attend, a promise is a promise. So, you leave your siblings with a babysitter and head off towards your school.

Upon arrival, surprise, you find that everyone came—including your former teacher, very alive (and having dyed her hair), and your former class president, who you find out is now a serial killer. And still came to the reunion.

All of this to say, Fire Emblem: Three Houses from Ashe Duran’s perspective is wild.

#and yes I said Ashe Duran because that localization was unecessary 😂#fe3h #fe3h ashe #ashe duran #ashe ubert #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem

164 notes · View notes

thatwildnya · 1 month

Text

venti when griffin wifey disappears to nest

The anemo archon is freaking out after his wife has suddenly vanished without a trace. After hours of searching with the help of the Favonius Knights and Diluc he discovers she has made a nest in Dvalin's home to lay a clutch of eggs.

TW: none

notes: the format this is written in what we've named a headcanon drabble mix. it will start with hcs and have a drabble at the end or multiple sprinkled throughout it. these will be tagged as headcanon drabble mix, hc drabble mix, or [fandom]hcdm.

chitters and nickers

Wild: I've started playing genshin recently and it's been on my mind a lot. Decided to write somethin' on a whim. Might make more with the same prompt if this one gets a lot of attention.

nya: i wanna squish venti's cheeks

wifey's bird cat mix

european wildcat, white dove, 7 eggs

very likely this was not planned, Venti’s alcoholic tendencies often cause him to forget protection so it was only a matter of time it caught up to him

unexpected pregnancies with female griffins can be absolutely heart attack inducing due to their instincts kicking in immediately once their body realizes what’s happening. bird brains go into maximum overdrive and once it decides where it wants to nest they’re making a beeline to claim said spot and going builder mode asap.

so imagine the archon’s panic when you’re nowhere to be found after being sick and acting weird all week. poor guy is zooming all over the city alongside the knights and Diluc to find you. once he’s combed through the city he uses his godly powers to call for Dvalin’s assistance. but there’s no answer.

Equation: wifey acting odd + wifey missing + dragon friend not responding. Conclusion: something very bad happened. Solution: it is time for panic at the anemo.

shouts at some random pedestrian passing by to gather the knights and meet him at the lair. unfortunately he mistook the stranger as a knight them self due to wearing similar clothes. and on top of that this person was a foreigner. but he’s gone before the misunderstanding can be cleared. now hubby is thought to be missing. what an eventful day for Mondstadt.

creates a crater when he lands outside his friends home. said friend sticks his head out from the crumbling tower with blurry eyes. what was all this racket for? this is the second time he’s been so rudely awoken today! bro already lost hours of sleep from his wife barging in at 1AM to nest and lay eggs. wifey did what now.

the dragon’s grumpiness dissolves once the situation has been cleared. in fact he was laughing in the end. the image of a large number of humans scurrying around in search of a god’s wife thinking the worst when in actuality she’s enjoying baby time in arguably the safest place in the nation is hilarious!

but that’s not important right now you laid eggies sired by him he’s gonna be a dad! this twink of a god can’t contain his excitement. how many did you lay? when will they hatch? how big are they? have they developed enough to be able to hear his voice? can he hold them? too bad you can’t answer, doves can’t mimic sounds and you aren’t reverting back to human for a while.

has no problem with you nesting in Dvalin’s home. in fact he’s all for it. very few humans and monsters dare to intrude on the territory of the anemo dragon once called Storm Terror. no worries here! so long you had no issues he’d stand by your decision! y’know what they say, a mother knows best!

you are never left alone Venti makes sure there’s always one person he trusts to watch over you and your growing kids. if he could he’d be right there in the nest with his family 24/7. the issue is, however, that you’re the breadwinner of the family. and griffin moms to be won’t leave the eggs alone until they’ve hatched. not for food, water, nothing. avian feline mom’s have wills of steel.

it isn’t long before Venti realizes the problem. kids are not cheap to raise. (especially in this economy) so for the first time in history, the anemo archon begins the treacherous and traumatizing journey of job hunting. it was a grueling quest, one of hardships and difficulty like no other. his confidence and ego took many serious blows, wounds inflicted upon them so deep it was feared he might never recover. there were plenty of times he almost gave up, but he persevered! his family was counting on him, he couldn’t give up. and with the power of love and friendship, he was able to slay- jk he just became a part time knight and takes on quick jobs spread across his nation.

this is quite the change to his usual routine but it’s all worth it. every time he returns to his recently grown family is all the motivation he needs. can’t wait for the day he’ll be greeted by a chorus of chirps after a long day of work.

when he isn’t working he’s always near the nest, if he isn’t in it. and more likely than not he’s by a fire cooking up something for you to eat. he’s glad you’ll eat if food is in reach. man’s on his way to becoming a 5 star chef with how much he’s expanding his culinary skills.

when is baby time? it’s always baby time in this house. and everyone is invited to baby time. can’t help but squeal internally whenever you get excited at visitors. leaving the nest just to gently tug them over so they could see the eggs will always be the cutest thing you’ll do to him. how can he not smile when your feathered face shines with pride everytime you present his kids?

finally, the day comes. he’s in the middle of aiding Diluc unload supplies for Angel’s Share when the Mondstadt citizens are given a heart attack by Dvalin suddenly swooping overhead shouting for him to get his butt back to you. get ready folks, it’s time for round 2 of panic at the anemo!

adding a new crater in Dvalin's lawn he runs to your side with heaving lungs all winded and worried. but you seem completely fine? and so do the babies, albeit two are shivering from the chillness of the ruins and being wet having just hatched… wait a minute-

Did you really have to disappear like that? Especially since you’ve been acting strange the past week?

Your side of the bed was cold when he woke up and he thought you had already left for work. The day goes on as normal, some bard performances here, archon duties there, wine shenanigans, nothing out of the ordinary. Until your boss shows up demanding to know where you are just as he was about to take a post lunch nap.

Okay, there’s no need to panic yet. Maybe your boss forgot you weren’t supposed to be in today? Nope, it’s the middle of the week. Maybe you were late getting back from lunch? What do you mean you haven’t been in all day. Were you scheduled to work offsite? No? Okay, now it's time to panic.

He’s fearing the worst as he and the others search for you. His true identity may be a secret to most but that unfortunately wasn’t true for a certain large powerful group that had already stolen from him twice. He hopes this isn’t their doing.

Thankfully the search doesn’t last long. Once the city has been combed through he flies off to get help from Dvalin. His friend can’t help but laugh when told what was going on. That’s when it’s revealed you’ve been in his lair the whole time.

Just as the dragon said, you’ve taken residence in his lair. Showing up in the middle of the night without warning to build a nest. So that’s where all the missing clothes, blankets, and pillows went. Used as cushions for the nest you’ve built in the middle of the night. The nest, might I add, looks very comfortable. You’re loafing self emits a blissful aura, wings drooping lazily at your side and talons tucked under your chest.

Doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Opts for a third option to beeline to you for a hug. But there will be no hugs for him. Dvalin manages to grab him before he can take a few steps.

“I would advise against this approach, Barbatos.” the anemo dragon warns while the archon flails in his talons whining, “less you desire a delay in meeting your offspring.”

The bard freezes at his words. Offspring? Does he mean you were…?

Venti is plopped down a few steps away from you, this time waiting for your acknowledgement before coming close. You are more than happy to have him there. Thank you Dvalin for intercepting, you’d be on guard if you’d seen your husband suddenly running full speed at you.

You raise your wings slightly, doing mini flaps as you call out to him in your beautiful avian voice with enthusiasm. You are practically vibrating in excitement as your mate comes to join you in your nest made of natural and man made materials. The same could be said for him.

“Lemme see, lemme see, lemme see!” Venti claps impatiently, ready to see the incubating life underneath your feathers. His eyes somehow manage to get even wider as you sit up. You puff up your chest feathers, head raised high with pride as you reveal the seven eggs you’d laid hours ago.

Venti’s eyes are sparkling with happy tears. Head in hands as he leans forward on his elbows, he studies his growing babies in awe. It pleased him to no end that the shells were decorated in the colors of anemo. If that didn’t scream who sired these eggs then he didn’t know what would.

Hand slightly reaching out, he had intended to wait for the okay like before. But you were offended he had the audacity to think he had to get permission to touch what he had helped to create. And you were going to make your feelings very clear.

Without warning you lunge forward. Small beak clamping on his shirt to jerk him over the edge. The bard lets out a startled yelp, face planting into your wing. Despite being a combination of smaller species of the feline and avian family, you were still quite strong.

“Ow ow ow, was that really necessary love dove?” He rubs his nose. Beak snaps are your reply, pouting at him to hurry up. Your impatience was so great he was denied the option to shake out his hat of feathers and twigs, getting robbed of his head wear. Okay he gets the memo sheesh!

The remainder of the evening is spent snuggled in that nest. Songs of humans and birds are heard late into the night, the voice of a dragon chiming in at times. Peace befalls the land of anemo.

Until it’s shattered by a frantic legion of knights still searching for their god and his wife hours later.

~ time skip yay ~

Venti sobs, clutching his bundle of joy to his chest. It had been nearly half an hour since his firstborn had entered the world yet somehow the tears kept flowing. No matter how hard he tried, the tears wouldn’t halt. But could you really blame him?

“You’re going to hyperventilate at this rate. It’s a wonder you haven’t already.”

“I-I-I *sniffle* can’t h-hel- *sob* help i-it!” he hugs his firstborn closer, blurry gaze never leaving his child’s face. “Sh-she-she’s *hiccup* s-so beau- *sniffle* beautiful!” the dragon rolled his eyes. How much longer did he have to listen to his crying?

“Get a hold of yourself. Your hatchlings won’t benefit if both parents are unable to assist due to being unconscious.”

Venti gives a final sniffle before tilting his head up in an attempt to stop the tears. He blinks rapidly, steadying his breath. A quick wipe of the sleeve and it’s back to staring.

He wanted to see every little thing she did. His perfect little feathered treasure.

The hatchling had somehow managed to sleep through his whole cry fest. Cozily wrapped in a quilt and blissfully resting from her first big hurdle. Not even a day old and she had already passed the most important milestone of her life, breaking the shell that had protected her as she grew.

He quickly wiped his eyes again. He’d cried enough today.

Suddenly she yawned, beak opening wide and talons outstretching. Eyes blinking open, she looks up at her father’s puffy face. Venti smiles warmly at her, his own eyes giving her loving slow blinks. His daughter returns the gesture.

She begins to wiggle in his hold, talons reaching to grab his shirt in an attempt to pull herself closer to his face. To save his daughter the trouble he lifts her closer. He chuckles as he nuzzles her face hearing her curious sniffs.

“Hello, little one,” he whispers quietly, planting a kiss on her forehead, “the winds welcome you into the world.”

108 notes · View notes

azsazz · 9 months

Text

Friend or Foe

Eris x Azriel x Reader

Summary: I mixed these two anon requests together, and hopefully it went alright :) "I was just thinking about Azriel beging a mate with a mother of dragons (like in game of thrones) ot would be so powerful... like, sm" and "Request! A Eris x Archeron!yn fic. Imagine a prythian where the high lords are not good and friendly with each other and are now planning a war over one another to take down the court next to them and rule over. Now after a LOT of convincing Autum Court and Night court are forced in a alliance between each other because of yn. Now imagine if one of them sabotages the alliance! What will happen? Who will yn choose? Will she be able to choose between her sisters and mate?"

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 2,901

Notes: The beginning is kinda shit but I wanted to share anyway.

_________________________________________

You sigh softly, admiring your mate in his sleep. His unruly amber hair splays across the fluffy pillow beneath his head, and the strong smattering of freckles dot his cheeks like embers, glowing in the morning light.

He has one arm thrown across his eyes, blocking the warm sun that’s peeking in the windows. You’d forgotten to draw the curtains last night, after Eris had growled at the handmaidens to remove themselves from his chambers as he took you to the bed and ravaged you all night, not having seen you for moons now.

He’d been so excited to see you, though he wouldn’t let Azriel catch him in that state, no matter if they were also connected by the bond. An unfortunate thing, that the alliance between the two courts was not stronger, and it sometimes felt as if you were the only reason the deal was made in the first place.

As if sensing your gaze on him, he blinks awake sleepily, a smile gracing his gorgeous face when he catches you looking.

“Good morning, fawn.”

“Good morning, mate.”

His smile widens at that, and he rolls over, scooping you under his body as he cages you in. You squeal, accepting the warmth of his body and the plethora of kisses he presses to your skin. You’re enjoying each other’s happiness this morning.

“I want to show you something,” he says suddenly, drawing away from you. You puff a laugh, brushing his hair back from his eyes. He’s positively giddy, an emotion you don’t usually see on your mate, but you’re thankful for his mood this morning.

“Okay,” you grin, “Where are we going?”

He presses a kiss to your mouth and pushes himself from bed, dragging you up with him. “I can’t tell you,” he answers, but he’s beaming, moving around the room like he’s just been named High Lord. “I only ask that you wear something you can walk in.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

What Eris shows you takes your breath away.

He takes you through the forest, so deep into the woods that you have to take horses, and after you tie them to a tree to wait, its still a few miles to get to where he wants.

You enjoy it though, the serenity of the woodland around you, hand tucked in the warmth of your mates, and you don’t understand why Eris is stopping you in the middle of a clearing until he’s gesturing down to your feet.

You gasp, taking a step back at the sight of three large eggs, huddled together near the edge of the clearing.

“What is this?” You ask, in disbelief. They’re the largest eggs you’ve ever seen, and you don’t recognize the coloring one bit.

Eris leans down, his hands wrapping around your waist to pull you into his body. “Dragons.”

“Dragons?” you repeat, grasping onto his forearms. But dragons are a myth, creatures that have been extinct and unheard of for centuries, millenia even. “But how—”

“I don’t know,” your mate answers, squeezing you tight. “I found them when I missed you and was wandering deep in the forest. They can help us win the war.”

Yes, yes, they would be able to help win the war. You’re over the moon excited about your mates finding, even though the creatures might be too uncontrollable and young to be such a big part of this upcoming war.

“We have to tell Az, we have to—”

“We can’t.”

You tear your gaze from the sight, furrowing your brows up at him.

“What do you mean we can’t tell Azriel?” you pull away. Your stomach twists into tight knots, and when Eris tries to reach out for you, you take a step back. His mouth firms and his hand drops to his side, sizzling in the quiet forest around you. “Eris, this could win the war.”

“I know,” he answers, voice harsh. He hadn’t shown you this to share it with your other mate, but to excite you instead, show you how much better off, how much safer you are in his court, with his smokehounds, with his dragons, and with him to protect you. None of those Illyrian swill, with their thin wings and long swords. They were hot headed creatures, more so than any autumn court general he’s seen, and he doesn’t think that Azriel can care for you as well as he can. He sure as hell knows that no one in the Night Court cares for you, they only pretend because you’re Azriel’s mate.

“What are you saying then?” you ask, voice trembling. You curl your fingers into your thick skirts, suddenly hot under the Autumn sun. You don’t like the way your mate is speaking, like their alliance won’t be honored and instead, they’ll aim for their allies. “That you’ll attack the Night Court?”

Eris stays quiet and your throat aches with emotion. Tears spring to your eyes and you try to shove them away, try to keep your betrayal from leaking down the bond to either of your mates, but Azriel always keeps close tabs on you, and he feels the ache in his body as if it’s him who is feeling all of these conflicting emotions.

What’s going on? He sends to both you and Eris. He knows something is upsetting you, that you’re hurting, but he doesn’t know if Eris is the one doing it or has the situation under control, so he reaches out to the both of you for answers. Are you okay?

Eris flinches at the sound of the shadowsinger in his head. His fiery eyes are both a warning and disappointment. He had hoped to show you this to sway you on your stance in the war, to explain to you how they could never be allies with the Night Court and never would be. That you shouldn’t risk the chance of death to be by Azriel’s side in battle, but flying high in the skies with him, nearly untouchable to the soldiers below.

He shakes his head silently, pleading with you not to let the information slip. You’d be a traitor to your mate, your High Lord, to your court.

You would be his enemy.

Tears slip down your cheeks, hot and stinging as they roll down your red cheeks. You can’t do this, you can’t lie to your mate like this, even if he is from a rival court. But as far as the Night Court knows, they have an alliance—it’s why you’re free to spend time with both mates in their respective courts. But now…now you’re not quite sure what to think, where you stand in this war at all.

I’m alright, Az, you send back to him and Eris’ shoulders slump in relief.

You know that Azriel is only responding to you because Eris is stepping closer and reaching a hand out to comfort you, but you still can’t believe him, and you step back from his grasp, inching closer to the dragon eggs behind you. Then why are you so upset, my love?

Eris’ amber gaze flickers to the precious creatures behind you, and you’re quick to respond to your Night Court mate, I can’t talk now, Azriel, there’s something I need to do. I will reach out when I can, and I love you so much.

You realize that it sounds like a goodbye, but you shut that part of your mind away, pushing him from your thoughts to focus on your other mate, standing before you.

“My fathers plans have not been flushed out yet, but I assume taking the territory of the Night Court is on the list of what he’s willing to accomplish by the end of this war,” Eris explains to you.

Your stomach bottoms out. You can’t believe he’s telling you this. You can’t believe he’s going along with this.

“Is it because of Azriel?” you ask, but it's no louder than a whisper as the thought takes root in your mind. Did Eris agree to infiltrate the Night Court to try and get rid of your other mate? So that he could be your only fate?

If he does accomplish something like that, you will never forgive him.

Eris’ gaze softens, as if he knows the direction of your thoughts. “No,” his voice is gentle, like that of a crisp orange leaf falling from the trees around you. The long grass rustles beneath your feet and the chill sends shivers down your spine. Eris reaches out again, trying to take your hand, to comfort his mate in need, but you’re having none of him right now, and it stings. “It’s because of my father.”

“So kill him,” you plead, desperately, and Eris flinches. Crows flee the clearing at your screams, and your desperation grows thickly in the sunlight space. “You can’t do this to them! To us!”

Your name is a sigh of frustration on his lips and it makes you still, heart pounding in your chest as your anger flares. Eris is distraught, you can see it in the purple rings beneath his eyes, the despair in his eyes, how he runs his fingers through his hair, pulling on it as if it holds all of the solutions to his problem.

“Do you think I want this?” His voice is laced with smoke and the grass around his feet burst into flames. It makes you ache for him, but you don’t understand what’s going on, and Eris can’t seem to explain it to you. “The last thing I want is to take you from your other mate,” he gasps, but when you open your mouth to try and calm him down, to stop him from burning down the clearing around you, he continues. “I don’t care that he’s your mate too, I don’t care. I would never take him from you nor you from him.”

“Eris,” you try, “Then tell me what’s going on.”

He collapses to his knees as he tries to explain but the words are as tangled on his tongue as they are in his mind. He can’t get his head straight, he doesn’t know what to do, how to stop any of this. “I—”

He’s interrupted by the sound of cracking. It ricochets through the forest, through the grasses, and silences the both of you. You turn on your heel, staring down at the dragon eggs you’ve stepped so close to.

Eris whispers your name, calm and stern, “Come over here.”

But you don’t dare move, don’t dare to breathe as you watch the delicate shells of the eggs shatter, shifting with the movement of the creatures inside.

A green head pokes its head through blinking a few times to get its bearings. The dragon is awfully cute, bits of shell and liquid covering its tiny head as it peeks around, getting its first glimpse of the world.

It caws and leans down to nudge at its siblings. One of the other eggs rustles but the other days motionless, not yet ready to wake and enter the world.

You want to coo at the little thing, even though you know it's probably dangerous, but its bright eyes stare up at you when it realizes its siblings aren’t far from waking. It shuffles from its shell, stumbling over big paws, adorned with razor sharp claws. It squawks at you again, bounding through the tall grass towards you, and Eris whispers your name again, his hand gentle on your lower back as he tries to usher you away.

He’s in disbelief. A part of him didn’t think that the eggs would hatch at all, that he wouldn’t have to give the creatures to his father, to use them in the war, but there are no thoughts in his head when the dragon approaches you.

Ignoring Eris’ pleas to back away, you crouch down to its level. The green creature blinks at you again, and behind it, a black tail pops out of another shell, its arrowhead shaped bottom whipping at the shell to crack it further, impatient from being stuck inside its own shell.

The green dragon makes an impatient noise, flames sparking at its mouth as your attention is occupied. “Okay, okay, little one,” you soothe, bringing your attention back to the creature intrigued by you. You reach a hand out and Eris draws in a sharp breath. He looks like he’s ready to drag you out of the clearing but he’s already hurt you enough, and he wants you to be happy. “Welcome to the world.”

It sniffs your hand before nuzzling into you. Your face splits in a grin, and you reach out to pet along its scaly body. It’s unlike anything you’ve seen before, and you already know that when they’re fully grown, they will be the sway in any war, let alone what side you’re on.

Its sibling saunters over, sniffing at Eris and turning its back on him with a growl. Eris deflates a little, but there’s still one more egg waiting to hatch, and maybe it will like him.

The black dragon sniffs your hand, eyeing you curiously, cocking its head. Maybe it can smell Azriel on your skin. You were in the Night Court yesterday. The green dragon nips at the other, and you wonder what their genders are, the grass too long for you to see.

But Eris can tell, somehow. He’s had experience, delivering his shadowhounds’ pups, and he tells you softly, “The green one is a male, and the black, a female.”

“They’re beautiful,” you say, completely enthralled by the two dragons before you. The green one nuzzles into you again, before catching your hand in its jaws.

You gasp as its sharp yet soft teeth break your skin. Eris swears, planting his hands on your shoulders as if to rip you away from the creature, but you stop him, planting your free hand over his own. It doesn’t hurt that badly, and it's just a curious baby, you let the dragon be.

But he’s not biting you just because he doesn’t know any better. You’re the first fae he’s seen, and he likes the smell of you, the feeling of your intentions in the air. You’d been scared, and he’d felt it inside of his egg. He knew you needed help.

He’s claiming you.

From the jaw of the dragon, green lines crawl up your arm like blood in your veins. They wrap around your forearm and you gasp at the intricacies it winds into, creating a weave of vines that stop at your elbow. It's a unique mark, you’re his as much as he is yours.

“I think he’s just imprinted on me,” you breathe as the dragon lets go and curls around your calves. The black dragon beats its tail against the ground, uninterested in what her brother is doing, and even less interested in Eris.

“What are you going to name him?” your mate asks, eyes shining pridefully at you. He’s a little hurt that the black dragon won’t give him the time of day, but there’s still hope for the last egg, which the female dragon saunters over to, nipping at the shell to rouse its last sibling.

“Zephyr,” you answer, and you don’t even have to think about it, you know that this name belongs to your dragon. He purrs in response, brushing against you.

His sibling breaks through the shell of the last dragon, waking the golden scaled creature from its slumber. It caws in annoyance, but the female is having none of it, snapping at him to get him moving from the shell.

The beautiful gold dragon gleams in the sun, and Eris knows immediately that this dragon belongs to him.

Much like yourself, Eris steps forward, letting the last sibling sniff at him, biting him. He feels his flames reaching out the dragon, feels them intertwining with his own power and the creature looks up at him in wonder. The marking by the dragon is similar to yours, a weaving of thin lines glinting gold like its scales from his elbow to hand, looking like a metallic spiderweb.

When the dragon releases him, he snaps his fingers and the three dragons make noises of shock as a flame appears in his fingers. They sniff and snap at it, but Eris is focused only on the dragon that’s claimed him, “You like that, don’t you, Rory?”

The golden dragon makes a noise in response that Eris takes as a good sign.

“Eris?” you ask, patting the Zephyrs stomach. Your mate looks at you with excitement glowing in his eyes and you soften, wondering if this will turn the tides of the war, make him change his mind about attacking the Night Court.

“Yes, fawn?” he answers, but you’re looking at the last dragon. She’s settled into the grass a few feet away, watching you both with untrusting eyes, even if her brothers have claimed you both as theirs. She hides in the shadows of the trees, and her glowing blue eyes remind you so much of the mate you have in the Night Court, with a matching set of stones lining his leathers.

It would make sense. There’s three dragons and there’s three of you, you and both of your mates. You have to ask, excitement stirring in your stomach.

“Do you think she belongs to Azriel?”

#azriel x reader #eris x reader #azriel x eris x reader #poly!azris x reader #acotar #azsazz #acowar #acomaf #azriel shadowsinger #eris vanserra

381 notes · View notes

m1ssunderstanding · 4 months

Text

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day 21: The Concert

Every time they're not on camera I simultaneously feel so relieved for them and so upset that I don't get to watch. Messed up of me, but hey. Remember that slightly disturbing quote where Paul said he actually does believe he's kind of public property and he's fine with that?

He looks so determined. Like the fairy tale prince staring down the dragon or Enjolras about to hijack a funeral (Literally my baby was conceived after I watched this in IMAX so if that tells you anything about my feelings . . . I'm going to be annoying I'm sorry I can't help it)

Her legs look so good in those tights! I love that Mo came not because her boyfriend needs his mommy but because she wants to see them perform! Kissing her on the mouth right now.

Danger boy Paul!

Fun fact, I was this John for Halloween in 2021 to a college party. My hair was already like that, and I had dirty white keds and black jeans, so I just did fake sideburns, fake glasses, and a fake fur coat. I tried to get my best friend to be Paul. She wanted to be a hooker, and I was like “It’s the same thing!”

See, look at him and his whorish ways!

John’s little lip-bit smile. He’s so happy with himself nailing that solo. Cutie.

Cocky boys. As they should be. I love when they’re proud of their work together. Get Back is 95% just Looks between John and Paul, isn’t it?

John and Paul instantly jump into their little “humble working class entertainers” act. You know what just occurred to me? You know how they talked about the “rattle your jewelry” comment backstage and Paul dared John to say it? I wonder if they talked about the “audition” comment too.

It really is a beautiful thing they’re doing. It’s lovely, watching everyon leave their desk jobs and their shopping and whatever else to sit in their fire escapes and congregate in the street and huddle together on rooftops. It really is just like the happy end in a sixties zeitgeist movie.

All the girls nervous to be too enthusiastic after years of being made fun of themselves and watching others like them being mocked on TV. Let girls like things, damnit!

Mo jamming! I’m in love.

John mouthing Paul’s lyrics.

“Paul McCartney singing that. What a voice.” Literally me if time travel existed.

“And if SOMEBODY loved me like she does,” Well, it is good manners to look at the person you’re talking to, I guess. But you do have an audience, John. And a mic and a camera.

“Absolutely disrupt all the business in this area.” Yes! Get those blue meanies, boys!

“No lay rishi gahd blay bloojaygoo” should replace all the stupid quotes the Lennon estate puts on everything they sell. Then I’d actually want their shit. Paul trying to magic the words from his head into John’s there. Successfully, though.

That “Pleeeeeheeeeease” is one of the prettiest beatles vocal moments. I love it with all my heart. And clearly, so does Paul. Doing that thing he does, inappropriately thrusting into his bass.

Oh my gosh it’s the song Paul and John do together on tour right now!

That “Yyyyyeeeeeah, yeaaaaaah!” (I mean the whole song, the whole concert, but especially that) does things to me.

John’s extremely blurry, because he turned his head quick enough to give him whiplash there, sorry everyone. But look! They’re having the time of their lives! They just love performing together so much!

Everyone goes to check on their accumulating audience. (except Paul. Wonder what that’s about.)Ringo’s little pleasantly surprised smile is so so sweet!

It must be so fun for them to be performing One after 909 again after all these years. Bitter sweet with everything that’s changed since then.

LMAO Kevin thank you for your service!

He’s a silly cutie.

The mic in the street asking that girl if she’d like them to come back every lunchtime. Imagine if they did? How cute would that be? Like back to their cavern lunchtime shows. Maybe that could’ve saved them.

Them playing God Save the Queen reminds me of that story where Brian was like, “This bigger manager wants to buy your contract from me, and I just wanted to be straight with you. They could probably get better deals for you.” and they were like, “If you sell us to him we’re only playing God Save the Queen from that moment on.” It’s probably a fake story, but that’s what it made me think of.

I always think that quote of Paul’s is so strange, where he was like “I never got the chance to watch John while we were playing.” Like. What are you talking about, baby?

Literally “Uh. Yeah. Uh. Yeah.” Fucking his bass. Staring at John. Okay? And I’m not supposed to take that and run with it? I’m not supposed to assume from that that you want to fuck your songwriting partner?

I think he genuinely wants to get arrested. I really do. I think he wants them all to get arrested so they can finally be alone in a room together. A lovely cell for four. Just shimmying at them. And Billy looking at him like, Bro. What the fuck is wrong with you?

Paul’s “woo” and shimmy :: John’s “woo” and weird little kick move. And Paul looks so fond, of course.

God bless Mal for stalling those little fucks as long as humanly possible. And Debbie! “Don’t actually go on the roof because it’s overweight.” Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss!

Absolutely LOVE John and George turning their amps back on. That’s right. You guys are what’s keeping the country going at this point, so if you want to play on your roof they better let you play on your roof and say thank you.

All the times when they just simultaneously turn to each other. Like, yes, this is our que to stare hungrily into each other’s eyes.

My stomach just dropped at those words across the screen. “This was the Beatles’ last public performance.” We know, Peter Jackson. You don’t have to remind us. Jeez.

John and Paul’s two very different but equally important leadership roles in the band at work here at the end of the concert. John delivers his iconic line, makes everyone laugh, and seals the band’s last performance with a very tight bow. Meanwhile, Paul’s climbing the gate to bypass the crowd and schmooze the police out of arresting Mal.

THIS is sooo cute. Heads buried together and John’s very sweet, “‘s’matter? Hmm?”

George is so cute here in the control room afterward. No wonder they don’t listen to his not wanting to do things, honestly, if he acts like this after. “What’s the law say why you can’t do that? Well how disturbing the peace? Yeah, I’m for taking over London. And every rock group in the world all on different buildings, playing the same tune.” Adorable.

Poor John. It breaks my heart that he doesn’t think his little lyric flub is funny. He’s disappointed in himself. I wish he could see that that’s one of the things everyone loves about him. George was grinning ear to ear about it. For fuck’s sake, that’s one of the reasons Paul fell in love with you in the first place. If only John could see himself the way we see him, you know?

This little moment cracks me up. John always has to be mommy’s naughty little boy, and Yoko does a very sweet job of playing her part here.

Linda and Paul are so touchy and clingy and it’s very romantic and I love that Ringo joins in and makes fun of them.

The whole after-show glow for everyone was just so palpable and fantastic. I wish they could've gone on performing together. Clearly it made all of them very happy.

#and that's that #Apparently we've got a bonus day though that I forgot existed #so that's nice #Or not for anyone that was excited to not see these on your dash lol #tumblr live #paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison #get back

125 notes · View notes

epicawsomeusername · 1 month

Text

I like how dragons have like, really tough scales that act as armor. I also like it when they have claws and sharp teeth and stuff. I think it just reinforces the idea of safety for me idk. Dragons are tanks. They are built to fight and destroy. Nothing can hurt them, therefore, nothing can hurt you while your snuggled up in their belly.

Oh my god I might go on another rant.

I like when big, scary dragons have a soft spot for their little friend/friends. To others, the dragon is fierce and ruthless, but to their friends, they’re unbelievably gentle and nurturing. I like to imagine the dragon letting their little friend curl up under their wing during a rainstorm. The little guy sleeps peacefully under his big friend’s wing, snuggled against their belly for warmth, unaware of how protective their dragon is. The dragon, on the other hand, remains awake. Keeping an eye out for anything that might try and harm their little friend. Of course, nothing will. The dragon is feared. Nothing in their right mind would try getting close enough to hurt them or their friend. Nobody is that stupid.

I also like to imagine how warm dragons would be. They literally breathe fire. I feel like their bellies would be nice and toasty on the inside and out. Oh my god imagine how comfy it would be to snuggle against a dragons belly. Especially if they’re on the chubbier side. Imagine cuddling up on a big dragons soft, squishy belly and just relaxing. Letting the warmth and soft gurgles of their tum relax and soothe you. The dragon would drape a protective paw or wing over you, sealling you in a little cocoon of warmth and safety. Nothing could possibly hurt you. They wouldn’t allow that. I feel like that’s what I need rn tbh.

The inside of their belly would be cozy as well. I know I’ve talked about this before but I’m gonna talk about it again. I like when dragons have two stomachs. One for normal food consumption and one specifically designed to soothe and comfort you. I read a story somewhere that talked about something like that. It talked about how some dragons have a second stomach made to protect and comfort their hatchlings. I absolutely love that. You could curl up in that second stomach and relax. You’re in the the safest place on earth. The darkness would be comforting and the soft sounds and warmth would lull you to sleep. You could rest easy knowing that nothing could possibly hurt you. The thick scales on the dragons belly are impenetrable. You’re basically in an armored tum.

Damn I think I’m going insane. I feel like my obsession with dragons has almost gone too far. I’m gonna go take a nap or something idk

#vore talk #safe vore #soft vore #extreme cuddling #endosoma #protection vore #comfort vore #sfw vore #dragon vore

83 notes · View notes

flowercrowngods · 2 years

Text

in which they lie on the floor and take care of each other, falling in love somewhere along the way between music and silence

🤍 also on ao3

When Eddie makes it to Steve’s a few hours after the others because he sort of got lost in that song he was working on and completely lost track of time when the words finally cooperated with him and the chords, he is not surprised to hear the sound of laughter and chaotic conversation, accompanied with the upbeat pop music Steve likes so much. What does surprise him, though, is the picture presented to him once he reaches the spacious living room.

The group is sitting in a circle on the luxurious sofa and on the plush carpet, talking and laughing and throwing the occasional pillow. So far so normal. What’s decidedly not normal is the fact that Steve is lying a bit away from the group, still included in their circle from the way they’re sitting, and he is absolutely still.

Eddie’s first instinct is to panic because surely Steve is having a flashback, an episode of some sort, maybe he’s been possessed, maybe he—

No. No, the others wouldn’t let that happen, wouldn’t let him lie there like that if it were at all concerning. Eddie tries to calm himself, to breathe away the panic and just be fucking normal.

He catches Dustin watching him and clears his throat, willing an easy expression as he asks, “Hey, uh. What’s up with Harrington?”

“Oh, he’s having floor time,” is what Dustin tells him like it’s the simplest, most obvious thing in the world. Like Eddie is supposed to know what that means.

Except, he does. Sort of.

And now that the panic is gone and he looks closer at Steve, he sees that his eyes are open but not unseeing as he is staring at the ceiling. He looks calm. That crease between his brows his gone and everything about him seems relaxed.

Floor time.

Of all the things Eddie could have imagined learning about Steve fucking Harrington, nail bat swinging national hero and hair care extraordinaire, this wouldn’t even have made the list.

And so, with a careful eye still on the boy starfishing on the white carpet, Eddie goes to sit down beside Dustin.

“So. Floor time, huh?”

The boy gives him a sideways glance and nods. “Yeah, it’s sacred. We used to do that at my place all time, it’s strangely calming. It’s kind of our thing.” And he says that with such pride in his voice, stage whispering like he is letting Eddie in on this huge secret, he can’t even find it in him to tap into that jealousy that always used to accompany every mention of Steve Harrington coming out of Henderson’s mouth.

Eddie bumps their shoulders together gently and promptly joins in on the discussion over whether or not it was boring to choose the human race in Dungeons and Dragons, which then turns into explaining to Jonathan why a paladin and a wizard are not the same, until everything derails completely and there are five discussions at the same time and Eddie is having a wonderful time keeping up with all of them.

All the while, though, he lets his eyes wander back to Steve. To the steady rise and fall of his chest, to his hands where they are still relaxed and twitching, not clenched, knuckles white, bracing to fight for his life.

He does feel oddly protective over the boy who usually does all the protecting, at least in that moment. Part of him wants to cross the distance and lie down beside him. Not to talk, not to touch, just to be there. Just so Steve doesn’t have to be alone.

It’s stupid. Steve’s not alone. He has a house full of his closest friends who let him lie on the floor and don’t ask for his attention until Robin grabs the phone to order some pizza. When Steve is back, he looks… Well, he looks good. He always does, sure, but this time he also looks like he feels good. And Eddie stares a bit before Will and Lucas vie for his attention again.

It does indeed become a Thing, like Dustin told him, because the next few times they’re meeting – sometimes at the Byers’, sometimes at the Wheeler’s, but mostly at Steve’s – Eddie will find him lying on the floor at some point of the evening. Not always quiet and zoned out, sometimes he’s actively participating in whatever conversation is the loudest, sometimes he’s watching with a smile on his lips.

Eddie has stopped watching him. Or at least that’s what he’s trying to tell himself. But Steve is okay, it’s his Thing, there is no need to worry, no need to watch. Even when sometimes Steve needs several tries at finding his words again, Eddie has stopped worrying.

It’s a Steve Thing. And it’s really fucking endearing.

He tries not to watch.

But then one day, after a really rough week and one too many threats directed at him, Eddie just… Doesn’t feel like talking. But he doesn’t feel like being alone, either, his hands still slightly shaking from running into Tommy H and his goons that seem to have missed the memo that high school is over and they can start behaving like adults now.

And so he finds himself standing in front of Harrington’s house, bracing himself for the noise, the questions, the demands, the stories, for all the words he really doesn’t want to say today. It takes him another five minutes to ring the bell.

Robin lets him in, and Eddie feels overwhelmed already, but it’s too late to turn around now, so he swallows and heads inside. His heart sinks further when he finds Steve walking around, joking, chiding. Chasing after El when she steals a cinnamon roll that just came out of the oven. Eddie’s heart sinks and it flutters at the same time, and it is that sensation that makes him crumble.

He lies down on the living room floor and hopes that it’s enough, that he won’t have to explain, that he can just… exist.

The noise around him doesn’t stop, but he finds that he doesn’t need it to, because they leave him alone, don’t try to talk to him, give him time to breathe, to gather himself, to be okay. The world fades a bit, but it doesn’t turn upside down.

Floor time is sacred. And he’s starting to understand why. There’s something oddly calming about feeling the hard floor beneath him, about watching everyone from this angle, about staring at the ceiling with no thoughts in his mind.

And he understands why Steve does this so often. Where his hands have been shaking just moments prior, they are calm now. Where his mind revolved around the Upside Down and Tommy H and run, run, run, now they are quiet. Dulled. Like they can’t rech him, like he is safe here. On the floor.

The only thought that comes to him is that everything would be even better with a weight on his body. And for a moment, he imagines Steve lying down on top of him, to ground him some more. Or Nancy or Robin or Jonathan. Hell, even Eleven would do. Maybe one day. It’s about time they implement cuddle piles into their weekly routine, but Eddie doesn’t feel like opening his mouth and asking for that right about now.

He zones out. Lets the magic of the Sacred Floor wash over him and thinks how that would actually make a fine addition to his campaign. Maybe another riddle for Dustin to decipher.

By the time he hears the music, he feels like a completely new person and it takes him a while for the fog to life enough, but then—No way. His eyes widen and immediately find Steve’s where he’s leaning against the doorway to his right with a gentle, knowing smile on his lips.

“It’s always better with music,” he says, almost sheepish, like he’s worried he maybe crossed a line. “Hot chocolate is coming up right away. Leave it if you don’t want it, Dustin will also drink it cold.” Definitely a smile now, fond this time as Steve’s eyes wander to where Eddie assumes he can find Dustin.

He doesn’t look away from Steve, the expression on his face probably still somewhere between disbelief and wonder. And he’s staring. He knows, because Steve gives him that sheepish smile again and starts to speak after a moment.

“I hope Twisted Sister is okay? I actually quite like this album, but I can go see if I can grab something from that Sabbath band you were talking about, or… Metallica? Something like that. Sorry, uhm. Metal is not really my strong suit, as you may have noticed.” He laughs almost nervously and Eddie just melts.

Steve, worried about his music choice for Eddie’s floor time, which he is absolutely ready and willing to go out of his way for as it seems, laughing and rubbing the back of his neck as We’re Not Gonna Take It starts playing is not what Eddie expected of his day when he woke up this morning.

He might actually have a little crush on the Harrington boy, he realises in that moment, as he smiles up at Steve in a way he hopes is reassuring. It’s perfect, he thinks. Like your stupid hair and your nervous little smile.

Steve seems to understand as he answers with another smile of his own, though all traces of nervousness or worry are gone now, replaced with patience and kindness and understanding. It’s almost too much for Eddie to bear and he looks away.

Moments later, Steve reappears in his line of sight and places a mug of hot chocolate well within his reach but still safe from overly energised teenagers.

Eddie is hesitant about it, but in the end it’s the best hot chocolate he has ever had, not even ruined by the smug grin on Steve’s face that said something along the lines of, ‘I have been babysitting this bunch of teenagers for three years now. I know how to make damn fine hot chocolate and you cannot deny it.’

Eddie just shakes his head in dramatic exasperation and hides his smile in his mug.

Eddie tries not to think too hard about his little crush on Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington. It’s probably nothing but a trauma-related attachment anyway, just like he has with all the kids, with Robin and Nancy and Jonathan. It’s nothing. It’s stupid.

But then one night there’s a thunderstorm rolling over Hawkins and everyone’s probably having a shit night, but Eddie? Oh, Eddie is a mess. Every noise is a bat ripping into his flesh, every time he wants to open his mouth he feels like he’s choking on his own blood. He can’t breathe, can’t drink, can’t eat, can’t stop fucking shaking. Pulling his hair has stopped working a while ago, and he wants nothing more than to go over to Steve’s stupid big house and feel safe again.

Before he knows it, he’s in his van waiting in front of Steve’s house, the lights still on, always on, holding his walkie talkie in shaking hands.

“Hey Stevie?” he finally begins, just as a particularly loud crash of thunder makes him gasp, but he bites his lip desperately and braves on. “You there?”

The answer is immediate and it makes Eddie breathe a sigh of relief. “Eds? Yeah, I’m here. Are you okay?”

It’s past 1:30am, but neither of them are surprised that the other is still awake.

“Yeah,” Eddie laughs, but it’s too shaky to be anything but pathetic. “Sure am. Was just… thinking, y’know.”

A silence follows and Eddie cringes at himself, at his words, at his presence. Why did he think it was a good idea to come over here again without so much as a plan? Oh right, he didn’t think. At all. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

“Hey, listen, man, do you wanna come over? I mean… Is Wayne home? Stupid thunder, right? I’m… I’m here if you wanna talk, yeah?”

“I don’t wanna talk,” is all Eddie says, his eyes clenched shut as another bolt of lightning lights up the night sky and he counts twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, until he hears that dreadful thunder rolling above.

No, he doesn’t want to talk. What he wants is to just not be alone. To be in the same room, lie on the same floor and share the same air as Steve. The thought of talking while thunder is rolling above them makes his skin crawl, and he deosn’t want to talk, doesn’t want to speak, just wants to— Steve.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay, right? Eds? Hang on, is that—Oh Eddie.” Steve sighs, but it’s not exasperated, not annoyed, not angry. It’s fond. Kind. Patient. And Eddie wants to cry.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he just looks at the curtain moving behind the window before Steve spots his van. Eddie lifts his hand and just says, “Surprise?”

And then there’s a bit of static on the other end of the line before Eddie is only met with silence. The sudden moment of complete silence is a stark contrast to, well, everything, and Eddie panics for a moment. But then he sees the front door opening, Steve illuminated by the lights he always keeps on. He looks like an angel, even through the curtain of constant drizzle between them. Eddie’s treacherous insides melt some more when he sees that Steve is coming over with an umbrella in his hand. When he opens the driver’s door with that gentle little smile on his lips and simply offers his arm to Eddie in a gesture so chivalrous that the metalhead cracks a laugh and considers swooning for all but one second before he realizes that his laugh sounded more like a sob of relief.

Gods, but he is a mess.

Whether that is because of the thunderstorm that seems to creep closer and closer, or because he has just compared Stevie to an angel, and now here he is treating him like a gentleman, at ass o’clock, with a look in his eyes like there’s nowhere he would rather be, well. That’s between Eddie and his stupid heart.

Steve leads them inside, shutting and locking the door like he always does before turning back to Eddie. He takes one look at him, enough for Eddie to want to apologise for dropping in like this, but he can’t get the words out before Steve’s already asking, “Metallica or Motörhead?”

And Eddie wants to cry again. Because maybe Steve knows. Maybe he understands.

“Metallica,” he rasps and Steve nods. Smiles. Turns around to head into the kitchen and leaves Eddie where he is, allowing him to follow along or to find his own way, trusting him with that big empty house.

That’s when Eddie realises that he’s never been alone with Steve. Not here, at least. And he kind of wishes that he had come over in a better state, not quite this much of a wreck. But then he wouldn’t have gotten to see the kindness, the patience, the ‘We’re all fucked up here but you’re family so let me take care of you, dammit’-look that Dustin had to suitably dubbed.

Standing in the entry hall, feeling a bit lost and small, Eddie realises that he wants to follow Steve into the kitchen. Wants to stay close, touch him, drape himself over his back and just exist there, in silence and mutual understanding. He doesn’t. But it takes great physical effort to go find his way into the living room instead, sitting down in the white carpet where he had first seen Steve lying on the floor all those weeks ago. He breathes easier now as he runs his hand over the soft, plushy texture and finds himself unwilling to stop. He’s always had a knack for sensory stuff, and touch was by far the most intense, so he splays his palm over the carpet and moves his hands back and forth.

Then the music starts playing and it’s the rather slow first notes of “Fight Fire With Fire” that make Eddie look away from the white plush and back up at Steve, who is standing and watching with a barely-there smile.

The music isn’t very loud, just enough to create a comfortable atmosphere and drown out the rolling thunder. Just for him.

His heart is doing the traitorous shit again where it thinks it’s only beating for Steve Harrington in that moment. He doesn’t have the strength or the will to stop it, though.

And Steve, angel that he is, looking down at him in the dim, warm living room light, puts the two mugs of steaming hot chocolate on the coffee table beside Eddie before promptly sitting down beside him. He meets Eddie’s eyes with all that patience, all that compassion that it gets kind of heavy after a while.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Steve murmurs, barely audible over the music, and Eddie just shakes his head. There’s nothing to talk about, just stupid thunder and lightning making his brain feel like it’s being fried and splintering.

“Alright,” Steve whispers and falls back, lying down beside Eddie, who doesn’t have it in him to follow quite yet. His eyes sting. He will not cry in front of Steve fucking Harrington! But then there’s a hand brushing lightly over his back and his voice, so impossibly gentle, telling him, “C’m here, Eds.”

And who is he to deny, to resist, to refuse Steve ‘Kind Eyes’ Harrington?

Eddie slowly lets himself fall backwards, and they just lie there for a while. Not touching, not talking, not moving.

But this time, Eddie’s mind isn’t quiet, because Steve, Steve, Stevie is so close. So gentle. He’s there, he’s here, he understands, and he doesn’t judge. Doesn’t talk. Doesn’t question. How can his mind be quiet when Steve is perfect?

How can his mind be quiet when his heart is racing as he slowly, achingly slowly like they do in the stupid movies Nancy loves to watch, moves his hand closer to Steve’s. He’s powerless against the pull of the boy beside him. His heart is beating in his throat when Steve meets his hand halfway, wrapping his pointer finger around Eddie’s pinkie. Their feet find their way to each other, just resting there, basking in each other’s warmth.

He is weak when his head lands on Steve’s shoulder. His eyes close and he breathes — quietly, shallowly, for fear of breaking the moment.

He doesn’t break it. In fact, the moment lasts far longer than the record Steve had put on – because of course he had to play a Metallica record instead of a cassette like normal people would –, and then it is quiet. The soft lights fill the room with warm, indirect safety and finally help his mind quiet down.

Of course, the realisation that he’s maybe a little bit in love with Steve Harrington had to be a quiet one. Soft, gentle, kind, and definitely far from what he ever would have expected. Just like Steve himself.

Of course, where everything else in Eddie’s life was loud — from his music to his kids to the thoughts in his head when he can’t sleep at night —, this one had to be different. Quiet. And when Steve begins to draw patterns into his back where Eddie is now essentially lying on top of him, Eddie dares once more to reach for Steve’s unoccupied hand, tangling their fingers. Not to hold him, because Steve isn’t going anywhere, but simply to touch.

Steve understands, Eddie realises, because he brushes his lips over his temple and then leaves them there. Not to kiss, not really, but simply to touch.

And while Eddie’s heart is busy feeling like it’s going to burst from these sudden realisations, from how quiet and how safe he feels, from how utterly, indescribably right this feels, Eddie just closes his eyes and accepts the fact that he is actually, absolutely, irrefutably and completely in love with Steve ‘Floor Time’ Harrington.

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #god this turned out way too long I apologise I seriously just wanted Steve lying on the floor and now here we are #in this house we take care of both our boys. by making them neurodivergent and nonverbal lmaoo #in true fashion I am resuming my streak at nonverbalising my blorbos #dio words #if you know me?? quiet cuddles in the dark is where it's at 😔

1K notes · View notes