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elvisabutler · 7 months

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we'll kiss just as before

fandom: elvis 2022 | elvis presley rating: m pairing: elvis presley ( big daddy flavor ) x female reader word count: 1839 warnings: rutting against beds. dry humping so to speak. coming on thighs. breastfeeding kink. light sub elvis. light mommy kink. light dom reader. elvis is a selkie. bit of fingering kind of. use of the words mama. tiny bit of aftercare. brief mention of a rough pregnancy. author’s note: welcome to day 13 of ally’s wet hot smut summer, breastfeeding kink with selkie elvis presley x reader. fun time for context author's note. this takes place in an alternate 1978 where elvis is living his life with his wife, lisa and his now two sons. truth be told anything i write for this series of fics probably will always live in this au ending to elvis's life. probably dying maybe in the 90s/00s. in case anyone ever wants to request more from them even if it's fluff. i was supposed to write a piece before this that explains jesse's origins but time's gotten away from me lately so consider this me doing my normal shenanigan of writing out of order. also if you have no idea what this series/verse is, the masterlist is right here. beyond that long winded author’s note, special thanks to @stylespresleyhearted, @ab4eva and @prompted-wordsmith for being seal!!! at me always. also once again, i really do love how y'all liked this and received it and live to see your thoughts on my writing. and yes i did post these within an hour-ish of each other. because this has been finished for a while. also. divider by @/cafekitsune over here on tumblr.

In the time you've known Elvis— in that small window of his life— you've known him to be an insatiable sort of man. Not gluttonous, though he can err that way, but a man who allows himself to live life with an intensity that makes you proud to call him your husband. On bad nights you wonder what would have happened if your paths had never crossed again because of his skin or if they had never crossed when Anita had broken up with him. Those nights are few and far between though, soothed away with a stepdaughter who you adore, a son you carried in your belly for nine excruciatingly long months and a little baby boy adopted by a selkie who took one look at a little baby seal and told you that he was your son— told you it was God's way of providing the two of you with another child without the risk of your health. It's a blessing John was still young enough to be suckling at your breasts when you adopted Jesse. It's a blessing that at the young baby's cries your breasts rose to the occasion, swelling up like they did when John was a newborn, leaking at inopportune times and causing Elvis to laugh in sheer delight that his wife— his perfect seal wife— had so much milk within her breasts that it came out even when no one was there to catch it but him.

No, you've always known that Elvis is an insatiable sort of man, and nights like this remind you of it as you climb into bed, taking in the sight of him naked as the day he was born, glasses perched on his nose as he reads quietly. Your eyes roam over his body, watching his rounded stomach rise and fall, wetness from sweat or perhaps a shower causing the hair on it to stick to him reminding you that despite being a seal he's practically a bear when it comes to the hair on his chest and belly. You feel yourself clenching around nothing the longer you stare and yet you don't speak, don't put into words your thoughts even as Elvis starts to shut his book and glances over at you, eyes zeroing in on your breasts.

"They're still lookin' full," he murmurs, moving to set his book on the nightstand next to him. "He ain't eaten?"

Your hands move to take off his glasses as you shrug, hissing slightly as Elvis moves his hand against the fuller of your two breasts. "No, he's eating, but— not enough tonight. He's full, but so are they."

There's a question in the words you speak, a request for Elvis if he's willing to grant you it, but you hate the mere idea of asking for it. Sure, Elvis has done it for you before but— only when it's started to leak on his chest when you're pressed against him or when it's started to make a mess of the bed. Asking him outright tonight feels wrong and you feel a hint of embarrassment despite everything go through you. As if Elvis can sense it, his hand that isn't on your breast moves to cup your chin. "Darlin'. They ache, don't they?"

The answering nod you give him is slow and controlled before you exhale quietly. "They're gonna be hard as rocks before he wakes up again."

"You need more out of 'em, don't ya? Make it so it doesn't hurt so much in all that time." He says it as a question but you and him both know it's more of a statement than anything else. "I ain't gonna mind."

If you ask him to do it. You know that's what he's telling you and yet you can't help the way you bite at your lip and watch as his thumb brushes over your exposed nipple, a bit of milk dribbling out as he does. Without missing a beat he puts his thumb in his mouth and sucks it, his tongue swirling around the digit as he stares you down, blue eyes somehow containing every bit of the depths of the ocean in them. He's your husband, this is— this is what your insatiable husband is willing to do for you and you've been looking the gift horse in the mouth. After a moment, one of your hands moves to cup the underside of the breast his hand had been on as you speak.

"Can you please? Mama's— Mama's got all this milk and I can't— I can't sleep with them aching like this."

It's as if you've granted the man salvation when he looks at you through eyelashes that have charmed so many women. He hadn't planned sucking on your breasts tonight, truthfully but it was always a gift when he could. You've taken care of him since that fluke meeting when you didn't even know who he was. When you thought he was just a seal that gotten a handkerchief tied around him. With this act of allowing him to drink from your breasts he could take care of you and indulge in something that helped him sleep better than any pill ever had. You could take care of him just by letting him have the simple pleasure of sucking at your breasts. It's different than when he does it when you're not nursing, but even so there's an element that's the same. There's that element that has you squirming and clenching your thighs as he drinks milk that he shouldn't want.

He places his hand over yours, the warmth of it inadvertently making you shiver and causing your nipple to harden and you hear the shaky breath he takes as he just stares at it. His tongue darts out to lick his lips before he shifts in the bed and places your nipple in his mouth.

"El— Elvis," you stammer out his name as his tongue runs across your nipple, teasing and only gathering the faintest of drops before he forms that little bit of suction with his lips. His suckling is gentle, knowing that he barely needs to pull for his little treat. Your relief is almost immediate though, your shoulders relaxing as you lean back against the pillows, hearing the soft sounds of his sucking and the sound of him swallowing every so often.

Sometimes you watch him when he sucks at you, cradling his head like a child. Those nights are the nights this action is purely for comfort and for the intimacy of being with one another without any of the children. Those nights are special and remind you that it's a bit of a fluke that you're a part of his life. They remind him how you're the perfect seal wife and how you came into his life at just the right time. The first time you met hadn't been perfect, hadn't been right, but the second time, this time was.

Nights like this though? Nights like this you find yourself with your head leaning back against the pillows, soft pants leaving your lips as your fingers thread through his hair and pull every so often. You've been aching in more than one way for Elvis and it shows in how after just a minute your thighs are clenched as you try and shift, only to be stopped by his chest and torso pinning you down with his bulk. You open your mouth to speak, to tell Elvis to pull away from the breast he's suckling on only to realize he's rutting against the bed. You hadn't known he needed this too. You hadn't known that you both had been craving this way of being together for what feels like forever even though it had only been a week.

A groan or a growl rumbles deep within Elvis's chest and you mirror it with a gasp as starts to suck harder, adding enough pressure that you can feel the throbbing in between your legs. Touching you would be ideal, feeling the calloused tips of his fingers against your clit would be ideal. Anything but a lack of touch would be ideal and yet you feel your arousal starting to ruin the panties you wear to bed. Words dance on your lips even as you tighten your grip on Elvis's hair, pulling him off your nipple with a small pop noise. Looking up at you with dilated pupils he uses his strength to pull his head back down to attack your other nipple. A whine leaves your lips unbidden as a fresh wave of desire courses through you and has you clenching around nothing and thrusting against his torso. Yet he doesn't stop, his lips still stay around your nipple, filling his mouth with your milk even as you look down and see some spilling from the sides of his mouth.

The look he wears is ravenous and you find yourself starting to thrust and move your hips to get any sort of friction. A whimper leaves your lips. "Please."

The sensation of Elvis's lips curling around your nipple into a smirk should have you pulling him off once again and yet you find that you just thrust once more. All that matters is chasing the high Elvis has started to bring you and somehow as your hand yanks at his hair again he finally takes pity on you. He doesn't bother to take off your panties, though, no, he merely takes one more final suck from your breast and shifts to allow himself to pin you down. The air feels as if it's been sucked out of your lungs when his lips meet yours, the sweetness of rogue breastmilk drops falling on your lips. Elvis is rutting against you, not bothering to enter you but the friction is enough, the feel of his bare cock brushing against your clothed vagina has your toes curling. One of your hands moves to his behind and as your release finally comes you grab his ass and squeeze, puling him in closer. His own release follows shortly after, painting your thighs with his cum. Flopping against you he takes deep breaths for a few minutes before finally speaking.

"Didn't— Didn't know ya needed me that bad," he jokes before nuzzling at you. "Didn't know ya needed that so bad."

Your words come out a little slurred as you feel your body starting to drift off to sleep. "Neither did I. Just— We needed that." Your tone, despite the slurred words leaves no room for argument. "Clean then sleep?"

Clean both of you off, then come to bed is what you mean but you know your little seal can translate from the way he moves to get off of you. He walks slowly to the bathroom and in the doorway of that room he looks back at you. You've already fallen asleep and it warms something inside of him to see you finally allowing yourself to relax.

"That's it, darlin', get you some rest."

taglist: @ab4eva , @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, @precious-little-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @prompted-wordsmith, @missmaywemeetagain, @lookingforrainbows, @araxw, @thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24, @austinbutlersgirl67, @heartbrake-hotel, @ccab, @18lkpeters, @slutforsomegoodlettuce, @dkayfixates, @kendralavon7, @chasingwildflowers, @notstefaniepresley, @wanderingelvis, @kxnnxy, @powerofelvis, @stylespresleyhearted, @be-my-ally, @mooodyblue, @pixiedustcosmos, @jessicarcates, @amydarcimarie, @flwrs4aust, @myradiaz, @adaydreamaway08. if you weren't tagged it's not a slight. it's literally me copy and pasting from old tag lists.

#elvis presley #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x you #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley smut #austin elvis x reader #austin elvis smut #austin elvis x you #ally's wet hot smut summer #ally writes #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley fanfic #i'm missing tags and i know i am.#big daddy elvis #selkie!elvis

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flowercrowngods · 5 months

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who did this to you. part 2

🤍🌷 read part 1 here pre-s4, steve whump, protective (but scared) eddie

This is not happening. None of this is happening, he’s… He’s dreaming. He’s high. High as a kite somewhere where reality doesn’t matter, where it can’t fucking reach him and he’s— He’s not panicking behind the wheel with Steve Fucking Harrington bleeding against the passenger side window.

It’s not happening.

Because if it were happening, Eddie would simply throw up. He’d leave his van on the side of the road and run the fuck away. Away from Harrington and his trouble, away from his rattling breath that’s so loud and unsteady, Eddie doesn’t even dare to turn on any sort of music, even though he’s itching for it, his hands clenching and unclenching around the wheel until his knuckles go white.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he mumbles under his breath, barely aware of his surroundings at all, his eyes flitting from Harrington to the red stain against the window, back to the road and then down to the white-knuckled grip and the speckles of dried blood that is decidedly not his.

Lost in his panic and disbelief, Eddie almost runs a red light.

It’s harsh, the way he hits the brakes, and the sound Harrington makes is pathetic enough that Eddie feels like maybe this might actually be happening.

“Sorry,” he breathes, his voice no better than Steve’s — and he’s not the one with a concussion, a broken rib, and that… fucking fear. Of something. Or someone.

Who’s hurting you, Steve?

Jus’ everyone, sometimes. God you don’t… You don’t even know.

He doesn’t even know. He doesn’t wanna know. All he wants is for Harrington to stop fucking bleeding, to keep his eyes wide open and—

“Ed,” the boy says, wheezes, and it sounds like he wanted to say his full name, but had to swallow first. Blood, Eddie thinks. Don’t let it be blood. “Think I’m… ‘M gonna throw up.”

“Please don’t throw up,” Eddie says before he can stop himself, hating how small his voice sounds, how urgent — like that’s the thing to be urgent about. God, he’s such an ass, but he… If Harrington throws up, Eddie will lose it. He knows he will.

He chances a glance over at Steve, who has somehow managed to get his right arm tangled with the handle at the door, keeping himself upright and safe from Eddie’s rather frantic driving style. His head is drooping, moving this way and that against the red-stained glass, and he blinks unseeingly as blood begins to trickle down from his nose and temple again.

He’s making himself small, and Eddie wants to pull him upright and tell him to stay like that, tell him to stop looking so terrible, so horrible, so…

So much like Eddie’s fucking problem.

He hates it. Hates everything about that vision. Boys like Harrington shouldn’t look like this, shouldn’t hold themselves like this, shouldn’t… Shouldn’t have no one but Eddie to take them somewhere safe.

It’s just not tight.

“Don’ wanna throw up,” Steve says at last, the pause too long for Eddie’s liking, and he sounds so solemn about it, yet so helpless, and Eddie kinda wants to scream. Wants Harrington to scream. Anything to stay awake and maybe not ruin his car. Anything to not fucking die in it.

“Tell me something,” he says then, because he knows he has to keep Harrington awake and speaking. Just for another ten, fifteen minutes, he tells himself. “Anything, yeah? Tell me anything. Gotta keep you awake there, you hear me? Sounds great, right, staying awake?”

He’s rambling and he knows it, desperation shining through his words and the god-awful way his voice breaks a little. This is not about him, he knows it isn’t, but still he wants to punch himself, wants to pinch himself and stay fucking calm.

But who could stay calm in a situation like this? The silence is filled with the horrible wheezing and rattling of Harrington’s breath barely audible over the engine, and Eddie has to look over several times to make sure he’s still there, still with him, still alive. His panic spikes each time.

He’s just about to reach over and shake him a little, snap in front of his face to get him back, when—

“I don’t know what.”

It’s quiet, that voice, breathy and tiny and almost invisible, and Eddie wants to scream again.

Tell me why you’re so scared. Tell me why your old buddy did this to you. Hagan would never touch you, so why did he now? Tell me what happened to Hargrove. Tell me why you sound so fucking small.

“Tell me about your…” He fumbles for a moment, taking a sharp left and pretending not to hear the choked-off whimper. Focusing on good things. On normal things. “Your favourite person.”

Eddie cringes at himself the moment the words leave his mouth. Your favourite person? Really, Munson? He scrambles to find something better, something cooler, or maybe something easier like asking his favourite fucking colour, but the overthinking really doesn’t mix well with the already panicked state of his mind. And Eddie just blanks.

Beside him, though, Harrington sits up a little straighter, smearing more blood against his window in the process that Eddie pretends not to feel nauseous about.

God, he never did like blood.

“You wan’ me to tell you ‘bout Rob?”

“Sure, yeah,” Eddie says, a little too loud, a little too shrill, actually running a red light this time because he doesn’t want to brake again and hurt the boy some more. There’s no one around anyway. This is Hawkins. Fucking dead-end of a town. It doesn’t need red lights, or boys who look like Harrington. “Rob. Tell me ‘bout him, what’s he like? Favourite colour, all that shit.”

“Her.”

Eddie blinks, looking over to find Harrington looking at him — or trying to, his eyes still drooping and empty. But it’s a good sign. People don’t die when they look at you, right?

“What?”

“Her,” Harrington says again. “An’ blue. Deep ‘n’ dark blue. She’ll say something corny when, when you ask her, jus’ to fuck with you. Sunset gold or rose, jus’ to mess with… But is blue.”

Eddie doesn’t really listen, doesn’t really process what Steve is saying, already thinking of the next question just to keep him talking. But then he continues on his own.

“Mornin’ blue dep— de… makes her sad, though. So only dark blue. Says it’s why we’re friends. You’re so blue, Stevie. Got half’a my clothes, still, she does. All the blues.”

That's... really fucking endearing, actually.

And he says it with a half-smile, too, bloody and pathetic as it is. Like it’s a secret that only the two of them are in on, only Steve and Robin. It’s kind of sweet.

Not for the first time today does Eddie find himself wondering, Who the hell are you, Steve Harrington?

He exhales through his nose, ignoring the way he’s started to shake with all that panic that’s been sitting inside him for a little too long now with no way to let it out.

“Not much longer,” he mumbles under his breath again, or maybe he just thinks very hard. Maybe he doesn’t know where he is at all. It’s like he blanks every few seconds, too busy thinking and trying not to.

Before he can tell Harrington to talk some more about that girlfriend of his, there’s a pained, confused little whine that forcefully tears Eddie’s eyes from the street for a moment only to meet hazel eyes widened in confusion.

“Wh— Where… Where’re we going?”

Oh no.

“Why’m I in y—“

“You’re safe,” Eddie interrupts him, speaking slowly because suddenly his tongue is too big for his mouth, and not entirely sure if he’s reassuring Harrington or himself. “You’re hurt, okay? It’s bad, but it wasn’t me. I’m taking you to… to someone. My uncle Wayne, he’s— He knows about that kinda stuff. You were telling me about Rob. Remember her, Blue? How about you tell me some more, hm?”

Eddie’s voice is unsteady with worry and fear and panic, and he’s doing a piss-poor job at hiding it. The thing is, he’s going to cry. He’s actually, absolutely, no-doubt-about-it going to scream and cry and punch a fucking hole into something when this day is over, when his van is no longer bloody, and when Steve Harrington won’t have reason to look at him any longer.

Oh, how he wants to skip forward. Past the nausea, past the fear, past everything that’s happening right now. Maybe past the insomnia that will come with a day like this, too.

Past all of it.

Or better yet, travel back in time and never get to that fucking boat house.

But he can’t. So he breathes.

At first, through the ringing in his ears and the racing of his own heart so loud and so forceful he’s shaking with it, he worries that Steve’s gone silent again, that he’s gonna ask again, ask what happened, ask where he is, ask all the questions that make Eddie feel like he’s been doused in ice water because they’re questions that only get asked in stupid movies where terrible things happen to people.

But then he hears him mumbling something. Numbers.

“What’cha mumbling there, Blue?”

“‘S her number,” Steve says, his voice slurring again, worse than before, and Eddie hits the gas a little harder. “‘S jus’ her number. Robbie’s number.”

And he mumbles again. Over and over and over, until Eddie couldn’t forget it if he wanted to, ingrained into the frayed edges of his mind now.

He lets him ramble, lets him repeat the number until the words slur together and he can’t separate a four from a nine anymore. Each time Harrington hesitates, each time he stumbles over the words or forgets a digit, Eddie wants to punch the wheel.

He doesn’t. He only grips it tighter and counts down the turns he takes, the streets he passes, the fucking trees that are familiar, before, finally, the trailer park comes into view.

The sob Eddie lets out when, with shaking, trembling hands he pulls up to his home to find his uncle having a smoke outside is deafening to his ears after the quiet weakness of Harrington’s voice.

It startles him, makes him stop his rambles and sit up straighter when Eddie finally kills the engine. For a moment, without the steady, rolling hum, the car is filled with the small, tiny whines Steve makes on each exhale. Like it hurts to even breathe.

“Wha’s wrong?” He asks, but Eddie can’t really hear him. Can’t turn to him, can’t— “Eddie?”

He’s out of the car before he can take hold of another thought, stumbling out of his open door on legs that feel numb and heavy. The urge to cry is back again, the burning in his eyes only getting worse when Wayne takes in the dried blood on his clothes and hands with careful, calculated worry.

“Ed?”

“I didn’t know what— where—- I’m… Wayne, I’m sorry.”

“Slow down, kid,” Wayne says, raising his hands as if to calm a spooked deer. Like Eddie is the one who needs his help. And he is. He really, really is, and he shouldn’t be, because this isn’t about him, but—

Wayne grabs him by the shoulders to keep him still, and only now does Eddie realise he’s shaking again, restlessly moving his weight from one leg to the other. His uncle steadies him, gently pressing down on his shoulders to ground him, and Eddie nearly sobs again.

“Ed. Are you in trouble?”

“No,” Eddie scrambles to say, becoming aware of what this looks like, hiding his hands behind his back on instinct, like that’ll make Harrington’s blood disappear. “‘S not my blood, I didn’t do anything, I swear! I swear. It’s, uh. I just found him. In the boathouse, I found him, and he was… God, he looked so bad, okay, but he didn’t want the hospital, and he was, like, so scared of something, and we don’t even talk, we don’t even look at each other, but I just… I didn’t know what to do, and you know something about concussions and people who were beat to shit and, again, I’m—“

“Eddie,” Wayne says, his voice so calm but so assertive that Eddie shuts up immediately, gladly handing over to controls to his uncle now. “Who’s the kid?”

He nods towards Eddie’s van, where Harrington looks to be halfway unbuckled, but his eyes are closed and his face smushed against the door again, like he just gave up.

“Shit,” Eddie says, adrenaline and panic slowly falling from him with Wayne’s hand on his shoulder. He sags into his uncle and rubs at his face. “It’s Steve. Uh, Steve Harrington, I mean.”

“Okay,” Wayne says, and he’s so calm. So calm. Eddie feels like he’s about to fall apart, and Wayne is the only one keeping him together, with that’d steady, warm hand on his shoulder. “And you promise me he didn’t give you trouble? Or anyone else who’ll come finish what they started?”

Eddie shakes his head profusely, getting a little dizzy with it. “I promise I’m not in trouble. He said Hagan did this to him, was alone when I found him. No trouble, Wayne, I swear, I’m not like that, you know I’m not.”

“Okay,” Wayne says again, and Eddie wants to weep. “I know you’re not like that, but some people are, y’know? You did good, son. You did good. Now help me get him out of that car.”

It takes his uncle tugging him towards the van for Eddie to kick back into motion, nearly falling over his feet turning back around. It’s only Wayne’s “Easy” murmured under his breath that keeps the ground from opening up and swallowing him whole.

He climbs in on the driver’s side while Wayne rounds the car and gets to Harrington’s side.

“Hey there, Blue,” Eddie says, his voice shaking and the nickname slipping again — but it’s easier to call him that than his real name, it’s easier to pretend it’s literally anyone else in here with him, bleeding against his door.

It’s easier to pretend it’s not Harrington’s breath rattling the way it does, easier to pretend those pained groans so high in their cadence they can only count as whines don’t come from Hawkins High’s Golden Boy who graduated a few months ago and was supposed to be done with bullshit like this.

“Come on, up you get,” he tells him, not daring to raise his voice too much.

He looks so frail. Like he’s already broken. Or like he’s trying not to. Like he’s holding on.

Eddie pretends not to think that the hand he places on Steve’s cheek to gently pry him from the window is not the only thing keeping that boy together right now.

Harrington groans, whines, wheezes, but opens his eyes to meet Eddie’s. Jesus, we’re they this blown before? Or this swollen?

“Hey,” Eddie says, just to say something. Just so he won’t have to hold the boy’s face in silence, just so he won’t have to focus on all the blood. Just so he won’t have to hear more questions that people aren’t supposed to ask.

Steve opens his mouth, his breath coming out a little sharper, like he wants to say Hi rather than Where am I? or When will it stop hurting? Like he wants to say How can I help you help me?

Somehow, Eddie manages a smile.

Wayne chooses that moment to open the door — just unclicking it, not pulling yet; giving Eddie enough time to support Harrington, make sure he doesn’t fall.

“Careful,” he whispers, though whether it’s for Wayne, for Steve, or for himself, he can’t quite tell. Maybe it’s a plea to the rest of the world, and to anyone else who will listen.

Steve is still staring at him. That’s probably not a good sign. He leans back a little, turning Steve’s head to make him follow him. Slowly, of course. Gently. Eddie can’t remember ever having touched something like it was going to break if only he looked at it wrong, but somehow he’s hyper-aware of it now.

Because Harrington is staring at him. Entirely too still, like he has no strength, no coordination to do anything but stare. And yet Eddie is the one who, now that the adrenaline has fallen from him, now that he can let someone else take over, now that Harrington doesn’t need him anymore, finds himself unable to look away.

Because Steve is just a boy. And so is Eddie, who can feel Steve’s breath against his wrist. And maybe, out of the two of them, Eddie is the fragile one. The one about to break.

“Blue, you with me?”

Steve nods. Doesn’t speak again. Doesn’t move. Eddie swallows, briefly looking back down at Wayne to see if he’s ready. His uncle nods, ready to catch Harrington should he go down, and Eddie turns back to the boy who’s smeared with his own blood.

“I’m gonna take off your seatbelt now, yeah?” he tells him, not entirely recognising his voice anymore. “That man out there, that is Wayne. My uncle. He’s safe. He’ll take care of you, okay?”

“Safe,” Steve breathes, and that shouldn’t be the one thing he focuses on. It shouldn’t sound so unsure. So insecure. So hopeful, so relieved, so— Fucking earnest.

Swallowing all these thoughts, all this desperation and all those questions, Eddie reaches over Steve, one hand still supporting his head and feeling the overheated skin of Harrington’s cheek against his palm, the hint of stubble and the crust of dried blood. As if in slow motion, not daring to make a wrong move and hurt him more than he already does, Eddie frees him the rest of the way, letting the seatbelt slide into its hold behind his shoulder.

“Careful,” he says again, just to say anything, but he is careful, and his hold on Steve is steady.

“‘M careful. Not gonna break, Eddie.”

“I know.” But maybe I will.

“Good. ‘Cause… Don’ wanna break.”

Eddie smiles, despite everything. “You’re not gonna break, Blue. Wayne’ll catch you.”

Harrington loses his focus then, his eyes glazing over, but the small smile on his lips widens. “Blue. ‘S nice.”

Yeah, Eddie thinks. He kinda is.

Somehow, miraculously, they get Harrington out of the van and into the trailer. He throws up halfway to the doorstep, and Eddie curses under his breath while Wayne talks quietly, asking him yes and no questions that Eddie can’t really hear through the ringing in his ears — a strange mix of fear and relief, a panic not quite over, but soothed by his uncle’s familiar voice; even if it’s not directed at him.

“Don’t worry about it, kid, the next rain’ll take care of that. Stop apologising.”

It throws him then, rather suddenly and violently, watching Wayne supporting Harrington, watching the blood smeared boy with the swelling, angry red bruises in his face. Somehow it’s different, seeing him in his home.

This was always a safe space. Always void of everything terrible.

And now there’s a broken boy on his doorstep who’s not Eddie.

He remembers the fear, the panic, the plea for no hospital, Eddie. Can’t go there.

Why not? You need a doctor—

Monsters. Only monsters there.

It paralyses him and he stays where he is, holding the door with an arm that’s heavy like lead, standing on legs that begin to go numb again. He watches, but not really, as Wayne sits Harrington down on the living room couch, between magazines and brochures and some of Eddie’s calculus notes from last night that he was searching for a sketch of a monster he was so certain he’d drawn in the margins a few weeks back.

Now there’s blood on his calculus notes. And Eddie is helplessly keeping the door open as though he’s going to run away any second now. Letting in more trouble to join Harrington on his couch.

He should… He should close the door. Help. Run. Disappear.

“Ed,” Wayne calls, snapping him out of his stupor. “The first aid kit, please. A bottle of water. A clean, wet cloth. A blanket, too.”

Wayne talks him through it, takes it one step at a time, has Eddie bring him one after the other like he knows how much he’s keeping his nephew together by keeping him on the brink of usefulness.

Soon, Wayne has everything he needs, taking care of Harrington and his wounds, keeping him awake and talking so much better than Eddie did, even making him smile here and there, hiding his wince when the motion pulls on his split lip or the huffed breath sends a jolt of pain through his rib that Eddie is absolutely certain must be broken with the way he holds himself — with the way he lets Wayne hold him up.

Wayne is doing his thing and Eddie is hiding, gripping the kitchen counter like a vice, staring both unseeingly and hyper-vigilantly as exhaustion washes over him, dragging him under and draining him of more than adrenaline. He slumps against the cupboard behind him, rubbing at his face like that’ll make it all go away.

It’s not right. It’s not. This is Eddie’s home, it’s supposed to be safe, it’s not…

He breaks away, ripping his hands from the counter and all but stumbling outside, heaving a deep breath and giving in to the urge to cry. Tears spring to his eyes and he wipes them away angrily, because it’s dumb, it’s so stupid, it’s absolutely fucking insane that he should be so worked up when Harrington talked about dying earlier.

These things don’t happen. They don’t!

“Stop fucking crying,” Eddie grumbles, sniffling and wiping away more tears as he closes his eyes against the afternoon sun. “Get a grip, Munson, Jesus Christ, there’s no reason to cry you big fuckin’ baby.”

Nobody’s there to contradict him. Nobody’s there to make it worse. So he lets his eyes sting for a while, lets his lips wobble, his jaw clenched shut, the balls of his hands pressing into his eyes, breathing deliberately.

In. Hold. Out. Hold.

He doesn’t even scream. Doesn’t punch the still bloody side of his van, doesn’t run into the woods and disappear into the void.

He simply breathes. Tries not to think about boys dying in mall fires, and even less so about boys beaten and abandoned in boat houses.

Doesn’t think about fucking Hawkins in Bumfuck-Indiana and the cursed way it has, driving its people mad.

Doesn’t think about, They said my brain is hurt, Eddie. Doesn’t think about the Monsters Harrington mentioned. Doesn’t think about Blue, doesn’t think about I’m tired, Eddie. Don’t wanna hurt anymore.

Doesn’t think about blue, blue, blue.

He’s shaking when he comes back inside. He’s shaking when Harrington meets his eyes, looking a little clearer now, the blood washed away and everything bandaged a lot better than Eddie managed. He’a bundled in Eddie’s blanket. It’s wrong. It’s so, so wrong.

Eddie can’t move, and neither does Steve.

“Steve,” Wayne says, waiting until those eyes tear themselves away from Eddie and back to him, though Eddie sees them fill with such trepidation, he almost asks what’s wrong. “I won’t hear a no on this, and I won’t let you go home. I’m taking you to the hospital. Especially if you tell me your head was hurt like this before, more times than one.”

“Three,” Blue breathes, a little dazed still. Not magically healed, not even from Wayne. Another thing that doesn’t feel right.

“Three times,” Wayne says, nodding, like he’s encouraging Steve to continue.

“But I don’t want a hospital.” Again with that tiny fucking voice. Like the Monsters are hiding under hospital beds.

“I know, son,” Wayne sighs, tugging the blanket a little tighter around Steve, and Eddie’s eyes begin to sting again when he notices the tone Wayne uses. When he realises. When he remembers.

”I want my mom.“

”I know, son. But she’s not coming. Your mama is gone, Ed, and this is your home now. Think we can make that work, hm? You and I?”

Eddie had never felt so lost as he did then, clutching his blanket to his chest, burying his face in the wet fabric even as this man — his uncle — tugs it tighter around him. Like he is fine with Eddie wanting to hide as long as he doesn’t run away.

He had shrugged, then, even though we wanted to shake his head, tell him no, tell him he wanted his mama.

”I’m scared, uncle Wayne.”

And Wayne had smiled a little, and nodded. “Then we do it scared, Eddie.”

Actually, Eddie feels like he never stopped doing it scared.

And now there is Steve, who Eddie never believed knew what being scared felt like. It’s dumb, of course, because even Harrington is just a boy, but he was always untouchable to Eddie. They never talked. They never existed in the same space together, not in a good way and not in a bad way. Their worlds just never aligned, never collided, never coexisted.

And now…

“I’ll tell you what’s going to happen, okay? There’s a doctor, Doctor Clarke. Like— Yeah, like your science teacher, remember him? ‘S got a brother who’s just as much of a genius, and just as kind. He’ll take a look at you, yeah? Make sure your brain isn’t too hurt, clean your wounds, give you something for the pain. He won’t, uh. He won’t hurt you, kid. Whatever’s got you so scared, Dr Clarke will be nice to you. Especially when I’m there with ya, I’m an old pal of his. And I will be. Won’t let you outta my sight until you’re well enough to run away from me, you hear me, kid?”

Eddie’s hands are hurting, his fingertips raw from where he’s been biting his nails while Wayne talks Blue through what’s going to happen — and he wonders, with the way Steve’s eyes are glued to Wayne, if he ever had anyone talking him through shit like this.

“Okay,” Harrington breathes at last, still sounding way too small. “But. I’m…”

“Scared anyway?” Wayne offers. Steve nods. You’re so blue, Stevie. “Then we do it scared anyway.”

And they do. Wayne goes to get the car so Steve won’t have to walk too far, leaving Eddie alone with him for a brief moment.

He watches, from his place in the kitchen, how Steve’s face falls into a look of utter exhaustion and tiredness; the adrenaline washing from him just the same. Eddie wants to reach out. Wants to say something, break the spell of tension and silence and I know we don’t talk, but I’m glad you’re doing a little better. I’m glad you’ll go see a doctor. I’m glad you haven’t died, I guess. Do you really think you will? Are you really so scared of that?

But Eddie keeps biting his nails, and Steve keeps his eyes closed, blanket around his shoulders. And they don’t talk.

“Thank you.”

Eddie perks up, not entirely sure he didn’t imagine the words — but Harrington moved slightly, his eyes still closed but his face now turned towards Eddie.

“For, uh. This.”

“I didn’t do shit, Blue,” Eddie says. “That was all Wayne. All I did was freak out, I promise.”

Harrington shakes his head, though, slowly. “Mh-mm.”

Eddie’s mouth snaps shut, because there is no room for discussion here. They don’t talk. And he doesn’t want the bubble to burst with insecurity and sourness.

“Thank you,” he says again, and he sounds final about it. It makes Eddie wonder what he’s like, really like, when he doesn’t consist of pain and nausea and disorientation.

He has a feeling that, despite everything, despite Monsters under hospital beds and torture in boathouses and mall fires that kill teenagers, Blue Harrington might be someone good to talk to. Compassionate as shit, even when all he wants to do is pass out.

“You’re welcome,” Eddie rasps, pretending that his eyes don’t sting.

He wraps his arms around his chest like he’s hugging himself, or like he’s holding himself back. From reaching out, from asking, from telling, from talking.

Unwittingly, even with his eyes closed, Steve mirrors him, and Eddie wonders if he, too, it holding himself back, or just curling in on himself some more even though it must hurt, feeling so small.

Maybe that’s what fear of death does to a nineteen year-old. It’s so fucked up. Eddie wants to scream again.

Outside, he hears a car door fall shut just before Wayne reappears in the door, giving Eddie some kind of meaningful look that he wouldn’t mind deciphering on any other day, but today he fears he needs words.

“I don’t know how long this’ll take. Will you be okay, Ed?”

“Will I be— Yes! I’m not the one with the concussion, man, of course I’ll be—“

It’s a bluff, comes too fast, and Wayne sees right through it before Eddie even realises it, and he steps closer. A warm hand on his shoulder. His eyes stinging again.

“You did good, kid. Everything will be fine. But it might take a while. It’s fine if you need to go somewhere, just… Don’t drive. Call Jeff if you need someone, just. Don’t do anything stupid. And don’t get behind the wheel. Deal?”

Eddie swallows hard, hit by another desperate, aching wave of I wanna go back in time and skip this day. A wave of tired exhaustion and wondering, aimlessly, just who the fuck Steve Harrington really is.

“Deal,” he says, and Wayne pulls him into a hug.

Eddie follows them outside then, trailing behind them like a lost little puppy, helping Harrington into Wayne’s car. His movements are still slugged and a little disoriented, so Eddie decides to lean in again and fasten his seatbelt.

“Careful,” he mumbles, allowing the boy a moment’s warning, a moment to adjust before the weight settles on his chest.

Dejá-vù hits him and makes him pause, with Harrington staring at him again.

“I’m careful,” he says, the corners of his mouth tugging into a little smile.

More lucid than earlier, and Eddie thinks it that which takes his breath away for a moment.

“Not gonna break, Eddie.”

“I know,” he says, still not moving back, instead reaching up to tighten the blanket around his shoulders even though the seatbelt is already there to hold it in place. “You’re not gonna break, Blue.”

The smile on those lips is genuine now, gentle enough to not be ruined by the blood crusting them.

“Thanks. Again.” And then, when Eddie finally pulls away to close the door and tell Wayne to drive safely, “I really do like that name.”

It soothes the urge to scream.

Eddie closes the door as gently as he can — which isn’t much, because the car is old and not exactly smooth.

“I’ll see you later,” he tells Wayne. Promises. To stay out of trouble, to stick around, to not run away for a while again, to stay out of his car.

Wayne nods, a faint smile on his lips.

“Later, Ed.”

And then they’re gone, and Eddie is untethered again. Wonders, for a few seconds every now and then if it really happened, if this is real.

But it did. And it is.

And after sitting on the steps for a while, having a smoke and staring at where Wayne’s car disappeared ten, twenty, forty minutes ago, Eddie heads inside.

He has a phone call to make.

🤍🌷 tagging: @theshippirate22 @mentallyundone @ledleaf @imfinereallyy @itsall-taken @simply-shin @romanticdestruction @temptingfatetakingnames @stevesbipanic @steddie-island @estrellami-1 @jackiemonroe5512 @emofratboy @writing-kiki @steviesummer @devondespresso @swimmingbirdrunningrock @dodger-chan @tellatoast @inkjette @weirdandabsurd42 (a thousand percent sure i missed some but oh well such is the 3am disease)

addendum 22 jan 24: onwards to part 3

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington whump #this is so long i am SORRY #i hope tagging y'all was okay (and equally i'm hoping i missed nobody but also it is 3am)#who did this to you #most of y'all will know most of the beginning already maybe i should have split it up but i wanted y'all to have Something New too #and then the Something New got out of hand and oh well :(#dio words

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 6 months

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Bingqiu ponies (Happy Birthday @Piosplayhouse!)

#poorly drawn svsss #svsss #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #equineswap au #They live in the same universe: I'm making it canon right now #I do think there are probably better horse breeds to assign these two #but as far as my little PD-SVSSS guys go - I think these fit alright.#Arabian for the gracefulness and elegance. Beautiful horse (all horses are beautiful so its a close race)#(and the missing rib. Cause....you know....)#Didn't quite get the head shape right but there is always next time.#Shetland binghe for the handsome little guy energy. I personally think a non silly little guy LBH would be a shire horse.#This is 100% an open invitation to debate and discuss in the comments and tags btw. I am no expert on SV or horses.#Also HI PIO! If you're reading this I just want to say thank you a million times over for everything.#You've been so kind and supportive and I think you are a brilliant and hilarious person. The tides of the yaoi wars turned when you enliste #I hope this next year for you brings wonderful things. You're a brilliant force in this world and we all are drawn to your light.#Happiest of birthdays to you B*)

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minorfamilysupremacy · 9 months

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new BTS footage from santhipong sillapachai on facebook

#apologies if i didn't grab them all bc i don't have fb access so i'm relying on what people linked #the sizes are probably jacked as well bc half of this was done on my phone #anyway lu this post is 4 u #4 u i did restrain from posting that 'that's my baby and i'm proud' gif #but they ARE my babies and i AM proud #i love them and miss them tremendously #bible wichapas #build jakapan #i could tag everyone else but let's face it #we know the content this blog is here for #biblebuild #vegaspete #kinnporsche

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starflungwaddledee · 28 days

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just want to give a little heads up, but i'm going to be away for several days until tuesday next week! heading on an international trip for family obligations and will likely have little to no internet access!

i have a few things in the queue (gifts mostly) but won't be around to respond to new posts, dms, asks, etc, until i get back.

take care, see you on the flipside!

#starstruck dee #my art #starflungs personal tag #unlike starstruck-- as much as i love the sky-- i am terrified of flying *in planes*. i know all the tricks and have done all the therapy #i remain mortally and irrationally terrified of flying in planes. i can barely eat knowing i have to go on one soon.#i've also been quite running behind on socmed as a whole (due to this looming terror). i hope to catch up when i get back.#if i've missed a piece of yours lately i'm sorry!

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camellcat · 7 months

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hello timepetals people!! I was curious if doctor who has, like, The definitive "if you like timepetals you are practically obligated to read" tenrose/ninerose/whichever doctor timepetals fic(s)

#like how teen wolf has Airplanes or Because I Trust You for examples #hoping you still Get what I am trying to convey here even if you don't know what those are (and I doubt you do tbf)#like does it have it's own tag it's own little community?#bc thiam airplanes DOES and I've been missing it terribly terribly so but I want that for timepetals #which I'm now realizing is so funny bc thiam airplanes is just a roadtrip fic and dw is literally. well. yeah. HAHAHAHA #honestly tho if not I'd happily just take fic recs bc I've ran out of the stuff I had saved up #timepetals #ninerose #tenrose #doctorrose #the only thing off limits is classic doctors bc I just don't know them (unless it's one of The Fics. then I'll just have to learn huh lol)

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tuliptic · 1 year

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🐇 Best Way To Show Yourself Love

We have been talking about love and since Valentine’s coming up, why not we talk about loving ourselves? Have we thought of how to show ourselves some love? And in what form?

Close your eyes, meditate on this topic and ask yourself the question: What is the best way to show yourself more love? Breathe in and out, make sure your mind and heart is calm. Then, open your eyes to see which pile talks to you the most/draws you in the most. Once you’ve found your pile, scroll down to the respective parts to see what are the messages for you.

Pile 1 - Pile 2

Pile 3 - Pile 4

Disclaimer: This is solely for my entertainment purposes. Take only whatever that you feel like it. If it doesn’t resonate, it’s okay to just drop it. That aside, I do not consent to my work or images used here to be used by third parties on this platform or other websites.

Decks used: Luna Cat Tarot Deck (Major Arcana), Linestrider Tarot Deck, Sweet Dreams Oracle Deck, Starcodes Astro Oracle Deck.

Pile 1

Main theme of querent - The Fool, The High Priestess

You're someone young in energy and yet has an old soul at the same time. You're probably someone who has tapped into your spiritual abilities and has been using them subconsciously. There’s some form of learning I’m seeing? There’s a chance that you’re also learning some stuffs of spirituality and learning to be more in tune with yourself.

What do you need in terms of love - King of Swords rx

You need rationality and structure, you need things that are concrete, you need stability instead of flightiness. Some form of maturity, some mature energy. I have a feeling that some of you may be Saturn dominant as well. There’s also some sort of empathy and compassion that you need due to the over rationality that you have.

Why do you need those needs fulfilled - Four of Swords

You’ve been deprived of love for yourself. You’ve been giving out love until you’re nothing but an empty husk. You need structure for yourself, so that you won’t over give until you’re empty, and that you need people to love you too, you need those compassion directed towards you. You’ve been so, so tired of giving and giving, never receiving. So it’s time that you learn how to set boundaries.

When, especially, you need to love yourself more - The Magician

When you want others to love you. Lemme explain. When you want people to love you, when you wanna “manifest” love into your life, it’s a sign that you’re not loving yourself enough that you want to rely on other people to love you, to validate you. It shouldn’t be that way. You should love yourself more, and other people will follow suit to love you when they see you loving yourself, knowing that you’re worthy of love. I hope I’m making sense here.

How can you love yourself more? - Four of Wands rx

Be in harmony with yourself. I know it’s difficult but this is something that takes a long time as it’s a lifelong process (I say as though I’ve been through an entire lifetime). But for real, face that fear in you, nurture your inner child, celebrate every small wins, etc. Start from something small, as every small wins will build up to a huge win. Know that you’re on the right path and believe in yourself.

What will it be like when you’ve loved yourself more - The Hierophant

You’ll be more grounded and less flighty. You’ll learn how to look at things from various perspectives and learn how to nurture yourself better, starting with yourself. For some reason, I’m also seeing that people will respect you more? Maybe cuz of the boundaries you’ve set, maybe because you’ve learnt to pamper yourself and work on yourself more instead of focusing on others? Either way, the change in you will be evident that people’s view on you will change. But most importantly, the change in you will be evident to you as well, where you’ll learn how to focus on yourself more.

Advices for you - Five of Wands rx

Release whatever tension that’s within you. It’s not easy, so let’s start with remembering that life is not a competition, that there’s no need to keep rushing and comparing with other people. There isn’t a necessity to keep running away from conflicts. Avoid what can be avoided, face up what needs to be faced. Just listen to your heart, it’s stronger than the anxiety you have in you.

Extra card - Three of Cups rx

Spend some time for yourself, meditate if needed. There’s a huge call for independence for this pile. Maybe some of you have been relying on others, some have been relying on substance/alcohol. But most of all, most of y’all have been relying on external validations, as mentioned in the above sections. Let your dreams guide you, inspire you, let your heart show you the way. Find the missing piece in your heart and accept limitless joy into your life.

Overall energy - The Empress, Wheel of Fortune

There’s fear I see in this pile, where you’ve been waiting for The Fated Time to save you out from your problems and all. There’s a need to nurture yourself. Your higher self is calling you to connect with them and they want to help you to nurture yourself. Dreams may be significant so focus on them, do not fear the dreams and the mysterious notion behind.

...

Pile 2

Main energy of querent - Chariot rx

There’s some form of stagnancy here, like you’re standing at a crossroad and you have no idea which direction to head. There’s no strength nor will nor balance in you, and there’s some form of flighty energy where you just wanna charge without thinking, but there’s also a rational energy stopping you, and now you’re at a stalemate.

What do you need in terms of love - Seven of Cups rx

You need some form of personal alignment, you need to readjust and find the values you stand for, and live with it. You still don’t know the values you wanna hold on to, your baseline, and you need to spend time to find them. I feel that messages around you are important, like the Universe is guiding you to find your values. It’s like trying an error, where you notice something’s wrong when something off happens, and you’ll go “Oh that’s a red flag for me.”

Why do you need those needs fulfilled - Two of Cups

There’s a need to nurture yourself and to be in harmony with yourself. This card to me is a couple card, so there may be a reason that you need those needs fulfilled so that you can find the other half you’ve been craving. Always, and I mean always, love yourself first, then only you can attract someone of your mentality and someone who can reciprocate the energy (in this case, reciprocate your love to them).

When, especially, you need to love yourself more - The Fool

Everytime. The Fool is a card that talks about new beginnings, and he’s always on a journey to meet the various cards. So yeah, you need to constantly love yourself, you need to constantly remind yourself that you’re worthy of love. Know that whatever that happens around you is planned, it’s like a divine timing, where everything will happen in place.

How can you love yourself more? - Eight of Pentacles

Aim for more variety, expose yourself to various things, various skills. The more things you learn, the more interested you become, and you’ll realize how amazing you are. Especially when you’ve learnt to master a certain skill. There are people around you who support who you wanna be and they share your values. I feel that this is a very pleasant card cuz it’s not only you, but there are people around you who fully support you.

What will it be like when you’ve loved yourself more - Four of Pentacles

You'll be more self assured, like there’s some form of stability and security for yourself. You’ll be able to hold on to your values and for some reason, I see spending on yourself more? Like, you’ll learn to pamper yourself more instead of pampering others. It’s not really a bad thing but just be aware to not let yourself be isolated from your social circles, and to also treat others nicely too.

Advices for you - Ace of Cups rx, Five of Swords

Right now, you’re probably experiencing an unhealthy uhhh bunch of emotions. There may be some hold back or over venting your emotions over a situation to a close one. It’s difficult to balance out and you constantly feel defeated over that particular situation. It’s high time for you to take charge of your emotions and to not let it rule over you. Worry not, it’s time for you to heal and move on, and things will move rather fast compared to what you originally expected.

Overall energy - The Lovers, Death rx

I have a feeling that some of you are questioning relationship related items. Maybe the unhealthy bunch of emotions mentioned earlier are due to this? No matter what it is, you’re currently unable to move from it. There’s some form of past that is linked to this issue that is haunting you, making you unable to move forward. However, things are bound to change. You’ll need to learn how to let go. With the help of your dreams, know that you are ready to make changes towards a new you.

...

Pile 3

Overall theme of querent - The Chariot

Unlike Pile 2, your energy is fast forward. You’re prolly the type of person with the motto “Do first, think later”. You charge ahead fearlessly, you love fearlessly. You do it because you know that others won’t do, and even if it may harm you. You’re going forward at a fast pace without looking around much. You probably should slow down and also consider some other options as you’re traveling on your way, so you can make the choices that will benefit you the most.

What do you need in terms of love - Three of Swords rx

Healing is needed in terms of love. You’ve been through too many hardships and that has kept you on your toes, that has made you work for others to earn their love. This should not be the case. People who naturally love you will love you for who you are. You don’t need to earn their love and respect. You are already deserving of love, and you need to learn that.

Why do you need those needs fulfilled - Nine of Swords rx

To release yourself from whatever dark thoughts that have been haunting you. It must have been tiring, lonely and cold to walk on this road alone. You have never been selfish for yourself, always have been working and wanting the best for others. This has thrown you into some turmoil and has been making your mind wander around to the negative side more. Do know that your vulnerability shows how human you are, and you should allow it to honour your inner grace, wisdom and beauty.

When, especially, you need to love yourself more - Nine of Cups

When you need emotional fulfillment. The cards are all linked together from the various sections. You have been deprived and now, you need to love yourself the most when you want yourself to feel full of love. No greater love comes from within you. Your guides have been sending various messages and hints to you to tell you to love yourself more when things have been difficult, to pamper yourself more. Have you noticed the things that you wanted are on sale? It’s time for you to get it!

How can you love yourself more? - Knight of Wands

Go on an adventure, have a change of pace, see things from some other point of view, enjoy and let yourself be impulsive at times. You need to start to take action to change your life for the better, and it’s all up to you. No one can make you change, no prep talk would be able to do that. It has to come from within you, that you need to let go of whatever burden that’s holding you back and let yourself be free, to go and do whatever you’ve wanted to do.

What will it be like when you’ve loved yourself more - Strength

You become stronger. No I’m not talking about the physical sense of being stronger, I’m talking about the mental and emotional state of you getting stronger, more at peace and more affirmative with yourself. You have more claim, more power over yourself, over your own emotions. You control your emotions, you’re taming the lion, not letting the lion of emotions rule over you.

Advices for you - King of Cups rx

There are themes of self sabotage that I’m seeing here. So take this as a warning to be conscious of what you’re doing, to make sure that you’re not treating yourself unfairly. There may be times where you’re extremely moody but know that those times will pass. Love others by loving yourself. Stop self-sabo. I don’t know what else to say cuz that particular theme is just screaming out at me.

Extra cards - Death, Four of Swords rx

Change is needed. You’ve been stagnant for so long and that’s doing you no good. You’re no longer in your comfort zone, you’re in your mold zone, because you’ve been there and have not moved a little bit at all. Which calls upon change, change in point of view at least, where you move from one place to another and to have a different view, to have a different experience, to experience wonder, delight and joy.

Overall energy - Strength, The Empress

Strength has appeared again and this time, it’s paired with the lady who tames the fiercest beasts, the Empress. There’s a feminine strength to this pile’s energy, where you’re in tune with your feminine energy and know when to use it. You also know how to let yourself be surrounded by those who share your visions and values, and you also support them. There’s some Moon energy as well here so some of you may be Moon dominants.

...

Pile 4

Overall theme of querent - The Fool rx, The Sun rx, The High Priestess rx

First of all, Pile 4, are y’all okay? The cards legit flew out and it made me go 👀. Have y’all been reckless recently? I have a feeling that y’all have been doing shit on impulse and then regretting it and then doing it again just because. There’s also some risky yet withdrawal kinda energy here and I certainly hope that none of you are doing substances or unhealthy habits or addictions like please. (I feel like I’m calling out myself)

What do you need in terms of love - Knight of Swords

First thought is words of affirmation. Love letters are something you’d die to receive. There’s a huge mental energy that’s here, giving me the feeling that you’d prefer intelligence over emotional sensitivity. But then this card here is telling you that you need patience, compassion and kindness as well, else everything will not be balanced. Love comes in a full package, where everything needs to be present to make your heart feel full.

Why do you need those needs fulfilled - Five of Pentacles

The feeling of being all forlorn and forsaken have been looming over you. You’re probably someone who has lost faith. You can only help yourself to push yourself out of this state of grief, pain and loss. I think it’s cuz you’re going through something tough and hence, you’ve been relying on external things to help you cope with whatever you’re experiencing. You need people to be patient with you, be kind to you so that you can have that spark of faith back again.

When, especially, you need to love yourself more - Six of Swords

When you’re transitioning into a new phase of life. You need that courage to move from this phase of… Slump into a new and brighter place. And you need to give yourself time, allow yourself to be vulnerable to be able to heal and move on. Know that you yourself create peace, prosperity and joy in your life. You are in charge of your life, you are the one who’s gonna decide when you’re gonna move into that new phase, where will that new phase be.

How can you love yourself more? - Four of Cups

Contemplate, evaluate, meditate. Contemplate on your visions, on what you want; evaluate yourself to see if you’ve been working towards what you’ve wanted; meditate to let your heart be at ease. You can also surround yourself with those who support your vision and share your values. Self introspection is required, but having a community that supports you to be better is equally important.

What will it be like when you’ve loved yourself more - The Hanged Man rx

You’ll be able to move on from whatever that’s holding you back. You’ll be learning to see new things from different perspectives and get moving, awakening with a feeling of being energised and you’ll be able to begin your day with gratitude. You have the ability to spring to action and to move on, but it’s entirely up to you if you wanna do it or nah.

Advices for you - Ace of Swords rx

There’s a lot of clouds being around you, hindering you from obtaining your inner clarity. This card is here to tell you to think twice or thrice when you’re about to do something, to define your goals. Check for any disturbances that may be preventing you from achieving mental clarity and happiness. Let your thoughts to flow and maybe write them down with the various methods, 5W1H or the various Whys to get to the root cause of a particular thought or emotions.

Overall energy - Judgement, Two of Swords rx

There’s some form of fear of judgement that I’m seeing here. There’s some form of indecision here, where you have no idea you want to spend that energy and time to change, or you wanna continue to be in your current state. In the case you wanna change, I’d suggest you to start by getting into the kitchen and making yourself a simple meal, where it can symbolise you moving from the old to the new.

#tuliptic #🌷#pick a card #pick a picture #pick a pile #tarot reading #ok that's all i'm gonna tag #this is a reading that's suggested by my first friend here - Ara #I miss interacting with her here #but i know her emotional and mental health is more important than anything #not to mention i still am able to connect with her hehet

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creationsabyss · 4 months

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Judge, Jury, Executioner (Applause For The Fall Of A God)

The silence hangs heavy as though the guillotine was raised over his own neck at the sight of pooling blues that shine with a gleam of gold. Eyes glazed and unseeing, pinpricks of starshine glow dimming to shadows of the abyss. The world slows down as panic grows, steadily until it all bursts. The first scream brings about a waterfall of regret and fury. He falls to his knees, his hand reaching out as his vision blurs. His soul was being torn apart. He knew he was forsaken. He had not stricken the final blow, but he had allowed it to fall. He was as guilty as the criminals he once sentenced to the dark prisons below the waters.

He couldn't hear the distorted wailing that echoed through the walls or feel rough hands desperately shaking his unresponsive body as he stared at the corpse, no doubtedly ice cold by now, lay quiet and still at his feet. He hears the faint rumble of a storm gathering outside, the world responding to his grief as the rain begins to pour. Mercury silver raindrops puddling on the roads in murky, muddled blues. At last, his heart can not take the guilt, the agony, and he collapses. His only thought to be allowed to never wake, to be free from the guilt and blood of his God staining his hands like the coward he was, to grovel at the feet of his God like the sinner, once beloved, he is.

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chiropteracupola · 1 month

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FINALLY! AT LAST! GRANDDAD’S HORNBLOWER BOOK COLLECTION!!

#news from the cupola #hornblower #granddad tag #LOOK BEHOLD and SEE!#for those who do not recall I have been trying to locate these for Approximately Three Years...#now feeling large and complex emotions about the fact that he left the book-jacket in as a bookmark in lord #I know exactly where he left off when he last read it… (it was page 281)#and now he is Dead. and I miss him.#o granddad... I am stealing his hornblowers and possibly also his name...#feeling also large and complex emotions about the fact that I am only going to have space for one each of his copies of midshipman and #commodore... for each of those he had a lovely crisp copy and one that's worn and battered enough that I'm worried I'll break it #if I really open it up and give it a read! and each of them have their virtues and really it's Augh...#howEver. sorry granddad I will give away your copy of hotspur without shame. I have a lovely scratchboard paperback of which I am Fond.

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gordonsicedcoffee · 5 months

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And you, huh? What about you? What sort of shady shit have you been up to, hmm?

I'm a Senior V.P. for a real estate development company.

JULIE BENZ as BRIT STEVENSON SAW V (2008) dir. David Hackl

#the way she just saunters up in her bitchy business lady stilettos...........miss gorl..................#she makes me so insane. let's discuss #saw v #brit stevenson #julie benz #sawedit #horroredit #filmedit #mine #legitimately the BADDEST bitch #bad in multiple ways. esp morally. like damn shawty u are SO ethically bankrupt I want u to throw me down the STAIRS #her face when mallick calls her boring kills me #need her in concerning & inane ways #in all other ways but physical. I am on my knees under her desk. doing taxes. that's what I'm doing there. yeah #pls mumther one crumb of pussy & a slap in the face ?? perchance #<-if u think those tags are bad u do not want 2 know what I just typed and deleted #those words have been redacted due to their radioactive and corrosive nature 🙏

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antihibikase-archive · 3 months

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It is incredibly isolating to navigate through fandom as an aromantic person. Aro experiences are so varied, and there is no definite aro experience that encapsulates the alienation that fandom spaces cause for certain people.

Fandom is mostly built and structured on shipping. And if not, the blorbofication of characters, which tends to go down the shipping pipeline; where does that leave the romance repulsed aro person who genuinely does not want to see any form of shipping? Platonic dynamics, right?

Yeah, sure. But by platonic dynamics, it's only "best friends" or "family" right? Where does that leave the aro folks with undefined labels? No, qprs aren't a get-out-of-jail card.

And qprs- they have no rules or standards set upon them by society, not even having a clear definition for what it is, because not all qprs are the same. Yet, for some reason, it ended up becoming the "nonbinary" option to a lot of people- not romantic or "regular" platonic? Qpr it is, right?

But where does that leave the aro folk who don't want a qpr? Who don't wish to see characters depicted in pairs or trios or so forth- who embrace the lack of a partner?

And these concepts presented; when aro folk talk about them, do you care? And if you do, do you understand? Do you try to?

If you aren't aro, but wish to be supportive, are you a genuine ally? Do you raise the concerns of aro folk you share the space with?

Or do you take a look at these concepts- and decide you understand them "well" enough? Do you decide to speak for aro folks instead?

Do you depict relationships outside of romance because you believe in the importance of platonic relationships? Will you accept the fact that not all platonic interactions will be familial or "best friends"?

Can you accept depictions of qprs outside of "more than friends, less than lovers"? Are you willing to accept it is not just "best friends" or "romance lite"? Will you accept that nothing is inherently romantic- and characters in a qpr may fall under your standards of lovers?

Can you resist the urge to put every character in a pair or trio or group? Are you comfortable with the notion of characters finding more joy in being by themselves, outside of all those lenses you see them in?

It's good if you can.

And if you can't, at the very least, do you understand why some aro folk in your space are upset? Embittered by your favorite ships? Starving for representation?

Did you depict these characters with these concepts with the knowledge that aromanticism is fluid?

#antihibikase.txt #Long Post #((I'm sorry. I have been thinking about this for weeks and I am unhappy.))#((Honestly? I have been feeling more and more isolated in fandom recently.))#((It hurts. I know non aro folks are trying.))#((And its hard to describe. It's alienating.))#((And the typical fandom response is more representation- which is well-meaning.))#((But. Specifically to non aro folk. When you depict these aro concepts are you normal about them.))#((Do you do so respectfully.))#((Reminder that qprs are not restricted to aro folks btw.))#((I'm so so tired. It's easy to say you care but then completely miss the mark.))#((And just in case- this is NOT alluding to anyone. Please allow me to let my rage be my own.))#((Or to share this with those who understand.))#((And if you as a non aro person feel attacked by this- sorry.))#((I did my best to word this as firmly as possible without sounding angry because I am aware that-))#((-many will read this in bad faith.))#((Okay to reblog btw.))#((This isn't one of my usual rambles despite it being under my txt tag.))

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coffeehighallthetime-blog · 8 months

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I am kind, not Complacent chpt 1,{next}

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Word count: 4.9 k

Multi chapter

Heimdall gow x fém! Reader

hi all, this is a Heimdall x reader fic that I was inspired to write thanks to the very kind and talented @engardeitsme I want to thank you for reading my draft and encouraging me to share this with people.

synopsis: You are a little goddess of peace, alone for so long, fearing interacting with the outside world may just make things worse. odin hears of your existence and finds that you may be of use to him, but what will happen when he finds out that peace to you means freedom and fighting for what's right? what will he do as you, just a child, turn his allies against him? turn his son against him?

the reader will be a child for a few chapters, mute at times (spoilers) and the first few chapters will also be a back story before the events of Ragnorok, but we will get there as it is based on the game's plot! aka: Don't worry, there will be some adult pining as well, maybe smut??( idk what I'm doing) and you will see Atreus and Mimir, and Kratos and the rest of our found family.

please enjoy and let me know if you like this and want more because my plan is to write a pretty long story with multiple chapters and I enjoy positive enforcement :..)

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“Excuse me?” a timid voice whispered from the large wooden chest being hoisted between two winged warriors. The moonlight of Vaneheim shone through the keyhole, and YN could only guess the direction they were headed from her memory of the woods. She knocked on the inside of the box on the side of one of her captors. “E-excuse me?” she mumbled a bit louder, “ Um, where are we going? You shouldn’t take me too close to people. And I-it’s starting to feel a bit cramped in here-” A slam came from her left, cutting her off with a start and she held her breath.

“Shut your mouth, Serpent Tongue.” A voice of the Valkerie on her left boomed. YN sighed through her nose and sat silently, her little fingers squeezing into fists and resting on her thighs as she curled up tighter into the cramped chest. Her heart shuttered the farther they got away from her camp, and she could only hope that wherever she was going, she would be able to talk her way out of it and go back to solitude. It was best that way.

Suddenly, the marching of the two Valkeries stopped, and the rushing sound of wind and the screeching of ravens rang in YN’s ears.

The chest rattled, and sweeping darkness fluttered over the moon’s light streaming through the keyhole. YN shut her eyes tightly, covering her ears as the screeching and wings got louder and louder until suddenly there was silence. Not eery, or deafening, but somehow suddenly calm and warm. YN slowly uncovered her ears, willing her eyes to open even slightly. A warm stream of candlelight and the sweet smell of juniper berries and oak came from the keyhole. She slowly rolled onto her knees and peeked out to see where she had been taken. The room was vast and stacked from floor to ceiling with books. Scrolls lay sprawled across a large wooden desk, and she could hear a fire crackling to the left. The screeching of a chair’s legs against the wood floor took her attention, and as she tried to peek at who it was, she gasped; the chest being dropped about a foot onto the floor.

“All-father,” the Valkyries stood rigidly at attention, “We have captured the girl, as requested.” The bottom half of a blue robe, embroidered in intricate golden threads and beading was all YN could see come into view and she swallowed thickly as he stood only a few feet from where she was.

“Wha- she’s in there? The poor thing must be terrified, let her out at once!” He commanded, knocking on the top of the chest, “ I’m so sorry, dear child!” Odin apologized as the Valkyrie on the right unlocked the chest and both Valkyries lifted the top open. Inside, YN winced at the sudden flood of light and hid her face in her hands. Odin crouched down gently, resting his hands on the edge of the box. He waited patiently for the little girl to raise her head, peeking slightly at the man who just smiled down at her. “ I’m so sorry, child. I sent my valkyries because I knew they could be trusted with bringing you here unharmed, but I suppose I forgot to explain that you were to be treated as a guest,” he glared at one, “and not a suspect.” he glared at the other. They stayed unmoving, staring straight ahead. He sighed and turned his attention back to the little girl in the chest. “ You are here now, though, and you are safe now.” He said finally, reaching out a hand for her to grab. She stared at him for a moment and down at his hand, before slowly grabbing it and allowing him to help her from the chest.

“Thank you…” she whispered finally as she got her footing on the wood floor. She still couldn’t look away from their hands as she spoke again. “Am I… in trouble? I apologize if I’ve done anything to upset you.” she froze at the sudden booming laughter of the man in front of her.

“ Trouble? Of course not, sweet girl. But you are very well-spoken, may I just say!”

“Thank you, sir.”

“ You may call me All-Father.” he offered with a pat on her hand. She nodded apprehensively but responded in any case.

“Thank you, All-Father. You may call me YN,” she said instead, bowing a bit lower. Odin tutted and tucked a finder under the girl's chin, making their eyes meet.

“ Now, now. None of that.” he stood tall and with a wave of his hand, the Valkeries dismissed themselves, and YN and Odin were left alone in his study. Odin turned to walk back behind his desk and took a seat, ushering the girl to sit in front of him. She obliged, crawling onto the large chair and letting her feet dangle off the floor, barely able to see Odin over the desk. The man chuckled softly and leaned in closer, resting his elbows on a stack of scrolls. “Do you know why you’re here, YN?”

She thought for a moment before shaking her head. “No, sir. But I hope I can help in some way, so that I may return home. It is best you keep me away from others.” Odin chuckled again, pointing at her.

“That. That’s why—quite the negotiator. You are very well-spoken, YN, and you are so small. Did your family teach you such good manners?” he questioned, already knowing the answer.

“No sir, my family passed away long ago, I’ve been on my own for a bit now.”

“Hm… and how long is a bit?”

“ 3 years in the spring, sir,” she said a bit too quickly. She had been counting every day she had been alone since she could remember. She was truly just a tot when it happened. Only remembering the screams and the flame of her village burning to the ground. She remembered sobbing over her mother’s corpse and promising to never let any needless bloodshed happen again. She didn’t realize her grief was so strong it had cursed her with immortality and the responsibility to hold up her end of the bargain. And though she tried her best to learn and meditate, no one took a little girl asking them to stop fighting seriously. Godly rage in the hands of an emotional child caused more harm than good, turning entire civilizations into mindless drones. No bloodshed, but no soul either. She went into hiding soon after, thinking it better for people to fight for what they believed in, rather than being complacent.

“And you don’t look a day over 12 years.” Odin broke her out of deep thought and she only nodded.

“My… aging has slowed since my family has passed...” She spoke slowly, starting to understand the circumstances.”... you know who I am, don’t you, sir? What I am…” She simply watched as Odin stroked his beard, seeming to ponder what to say next.

“ I do…you are the young goddess of logic, strategy, protection…peace. You seek nothing but peace… And do you know who I am?” He questioned. YN paused for a moment, looking around the room before meeting his gaze once again, “ You are someone important… but I do not know beyond that, I am sorry…” Odin nodded again.

“ I am Odin, the All-Father. Kind of the Asir Gods. it is my job to protect Asgard and the rest of the 9 realms.”

“Odin…” The girl let the name linger on her tongue and realization made her go ridged. “Yes… Yes, I have heard of Odin… are we in Asgard? I thought it wasn’t allowed for people like me.”Odin laughed at this, shaking his head in amusement.

“Yes for our protection I have closed us off from the other realms. But you are a guest. You’ve been alone for a long time.” He stated.

“Yes, sir. I know nothing much outside of Vaneheim, and I have spent little time talking to people enough to understand what is happening in the realms. The easiest way to keep peace for me… is to keep space…”

“Mmh…” he hummed, hinting he wanted some elaboration. The girl nodded and continued,

“ I have found that when I speak… when I speak with people and I’m not careful… they become, uhm… empty?” she tried the word on her tongue, “they don’t act the same. Like ghosts just passing by each other. There is no war or hunger… but there is also no life…” she explained, starting to lose her train of thought. “I just don’t know what I’m doing…” she whispers finally. Odin nods and straightens himself to look down at YN.

“ I’ve been keeping my eye on you for a while, dear child. You seemed so alone, it was heartbreaking…Are you lonely?”

“Yes.” She spoke, without hesitation, not even quite realizing her own words until they rang in her ears. She stiffened in realization, but slowly relaxed into her seat, fidgeting with her hands. “Yes, I am…I don’t run into people much… and Skoll and Hati are a great company, but I miss… I miss my family…” she all but whispered at last, her lip quivering as she came to the realization this was the longest conversation she’s had in nearly 50 years. A blink of an eye in her immortal life, but long and unbearable just the same. She was, after all, only a child. Odin took a moment to listen and let the girl sit in silence before standing up slowly and walking up to her before crouching at her side.

“ I have been watching over you… and how deeply you care for every breathing creature around you so much that you find the strength to stay away is something deeply admirable. You are a very powerful, YN. And I think if you stayed here with me… I would be able to help you use your power to help Asgard build strong connections with all the realms, to create peace everywhere, without fear that you may be manipulating people with your words.”

YN looked up to meet Odin’s gaze and rubbed a tear welling up in her eye. The idea that she may be able to help so many people. May be able to stop needless bloodshed. And to do so without taking away people's free will. It made her heart thrum with hope for the first time in years.

“You think you can teach me?” she asked softly, rubbing under her nose. Odin smiled, resting his withered hand on her head. “Teach me to help people? To help build relationships and… and keep their souls whole?”

“With my help?” Odin asked dramatically, “ Absolutely.”

YN’s heart pumped fast in her chest and she couldn't stop herself from throwing her little arms around Odin’s neck, pressing her teary eyes into his shoulder. He stiffened, staring at the girl clinging to him, before relaxing with a chuckle and patting her back. She knew better than to trust strangers, but for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel alone.

“We will talk more soon, but now it is late. Let me show you to your room, There is a hot meal waiting for you, and we don’t want it to get cold now, do we?” He held her at arm's length by the shoulders and helped her whip her tears with the end of his robe. She could only nod as she tried to subside her gently sobbing and Odin stood tall, guiding her with a gentle hand on her head to the upstairs level of the lodge. It was mostly quiet, with gentle murmurs coming from a room here or there. The candlelight felt so calming and YN took this moment to just take in the grandness of the lodge.

“ It’s so big…” she whispered. Odin snickered and ruffled her hair.

“I suppose it is, isn’t it?” he stopped in front of a large oak door at the end of the hall with gold inlay and burnt carvings. He swung the door open to reveal and gently lit the room, Simple yes, but to YN? It was the picture of comfort. I fireplace in one corner, a large queen bed in the other piled with a stack of fine furs with a corner table. A bowl of stew steamed and being cooled by a light breeze flowing through the window. Finally, her eyes landed on two shelves, one full of books and one full of weapons.

“Weapons?” she looked at them quizzically. Odin simply nodded as he led her to her bed, pulling the small table closer so she could start eating.

“ yes. You will be taught to hone your brains, but every Asgardian god must learn to fight. It’s an unfortunate precaution. But it’s because I care so deeply for my family.” YN, swallowing a piping mouthful and staring at Odin with eyes wide as dinner plates.

“Family… me?”

Odin just smiled in return leaning town to tuck a stray hair behind the girl’s ear and kissing the top of her head.

“Get some rest, sweet girl.” With that, Odin walked to the door and bowed before taking his leave. As he shut the door and turned, he could see piercing pink eyes staring from the room across the way. “Heimdall?” he questioned, and was met by the embarrassed gasp of the little boy who had been caught red-handed. Odin sauntered over to the door and the door opened wider, revealing a young boy who looked about twelve, with a mop of golden blond hair and bright rosy sapphire eyes, freckles showing in the candlelight. The boy bowed deeply.

“I’m sorry, All father. I heard noises…different ones I mean.” He stated, not looking his father in the eyes. He seemed to wince now and then, as a barrage of noises and conversations pounded into his ears. Odin patted his head lightly and Heimdall looked up, trying not to show his nervousness. “Who is that girl?”

“A guest, Heimdall. She’ll be staying with us for a while.”

“A guest… do you think she can be trusted, All-father?” Heimdall looked nervously beyond his father’s figure, staring at the door and listening to what could be happening. There was the clinking of a spoon hitting the bottom of a bowl, the crackle of a dying fire, and a soft hum that seemed to soothe his trembling the more he focused on it. He looked back as his father chortled.

“ I suppose I’ll leave that up to you. She can be of great use to us as a mediator, and she seems eager to help if it means she can learn her powers. But only time will tell.” Heimdall nodded, wringing his hands together nervously as he spoke up again.

“ Do you think… we could be friends, All-Father?”

“Friends? My boy, I’m sorry but I can’t have you getting too distracted. It would be best if you could read her mind and be done with it. If only you were improving faster.” He tsked and Heimdall lowered his head.

“And besides,” Odin continued, “ She will have her own studies to focus on.” Heimdall’s shoulders drooped at the answer and he nodded, meekly. Odin sighed, pinching his temple in slight annoyance before putting on another smile and resting a hand on his Son’s shoulder. “Listen… I will introduce you two, and maybe I can have you two do some combat training here or there. This will allow you the opportunity to learn more about her; do some intel work for me, hm? But you have a very important role to fulfill, Heimdall, I can’t let you lose sight of that. Alright?” Heimdall perked up slightly and nodded.

“Yes, All-father. Thank you, All-father. I promise I won’t get distracted,” he bowed deeply and retreated behind his bedroom door. “Good night, All-Father.”

Heimdall spun from the door, his little bare feet carrying him to his bed where he tucked himself into his furs. He would learn more about the girl with the soft voice tomorrow.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

YN woke to the sound of bustling outside her door. She rubbed her eyes, listening to the heavy footfalls of leather boots and the clatter of daggers and axes dangling off belts. She took in the noise of people talking and shouting down the hall, the sound of sparing outside her window, and what sounded like staff calling out to each other while running errands. She rubbed her tired eyes, stretched her arms high above her head, and flopped deeper into the furs, opening her eyes to look at the ceiling. The more she listened, the more it made her nervous; the thought she was so close to so many people. Her lips pressed tight, she sighed through her nose to ease her nerves.

“ Just don’t try to fix anything…” She mumbled to herself. She didn’t know where she was and how long she would be here, and though Odin had been welcoming and explained that being locked in the chest was a gross misunderstanding, she couldn’t shake a feeling of unnerve hidden under the warmth she felt being in a soft bed and being fed kind words. She learned long ago to never trust first impressions, but being paranoid wouldn’t help either. She felt her body start to shiver but caught herself, frowning and smacking her cheeks lightly to knock out the nerves. “Everything will be fine.”

“Who are you talking to?”

“Ah!” she yelped and sprang up from her bed to see a maid had made herself comfortable in YN’s room. The maid paid no mind to the girl’s scream, simply walking over to the window to open it, letting a cool breeze in.

“I was wondering when you would finally wake up. Goodness, I only checked five different times this morning! The whole lodge is awake now and you are supposed to be at the training grounds in 30 minutes!” She was an older woman; round and soft with a simple dress that skated across the floor and a tattered apron covered in what looked like coffee stains and dust. She had rough brown hair with lightened streaks that showed her age. Crow's feet pulled at the corners of her eyes and she had permanent worry marks on her forehead. Despite that and her fast pace, she gave off a comforting aura that made YN feel safe. She hustled about, grabbing a shirt and a pair of trousers from a wooden cabinet, she set them on the bed and the girl's feet. “My name is Maliorn; you can call me Mal, Do not call me “maid” or I will smack you,” she warned. “Quickly now, grab these and come with me. I need to get you in the bath and dressed in 20 minutes.”

“Oh, ok, but-whoa!” The maid ushered her out of the hall and pushed her towards a grand bathroom. “W-wait I’m sorry I don’t understand can I at least-” YN yelped as she was shoved yet again.

“No time, we are far too behind for questions. Hurry, hurry, hurry!” YN felt eyes around staring at her, most likely because she was an unfamiliar face being corralled into a bath and trying and failing to get a word in. Before the maid slammed the door, YN saw bright pink eyes stare back into hers, the boy’s shoulders shaking in laughter at her. Her face flushed with embarrassment and she couldn’t do much but hide her face in her clothes. Mal huffed as YN simply froze and ushered her to the bath. “None of that now. I wouldn’t have to rush you if you had just woken up earlier. Clothes off please.”

“I didn’t know I needed to, I’ve never had a schedule before,” YN explained, pulling her nightshirt off over her head. “I’m sorry, Ma’am.”

“Just Mal, dear,” Mal stated, picking YN up from under her arms and dropping her into the bath. YN gasped, shivering and trying to crawl out before Mal pushed her back and poured a pitcher of ice-cold water onto her head, grabbing shampoo.

“It’s f-freezing!” YN whined, shaking like a leaf as Mal pulled her sopping hair from her face and scrubbed any grime from it.

“Tch, well it would have been warm if you were awake when I drew it.” Mal teased with a smile, pouring another pitcher of water to wash the suds out. After a more thorough scrub down than YN would have liked, Mal pulled her out of the bath, tossing her a soft towel. “Hurry and get dressed. If you are quick you may be able to grab some bread from the great hall before I take you to the training grounds. Do NOT,” mal pointed a finger at the girls forehead “ go to the great hall alone. Find me and I will get you something to eat.” With that, Mal slipped out of the room, most likely to run off and take care of her other duties while she waited for YN to get dressed. The girl finally took the first deep breath since she woke up and pulled on her black trousers and green tunic, tying in the back around her waist to stop any bunching. She used leather straps to tighten the cloth of her shirt to her wrists, as well as her trousers around her ankles. She wrapped a final piece around her hair into a ponytail and ran off to try and find Mal.

YN ended up wandering into the great hall, The smell of fresh bread and lingonberry jam, sausage and lamb roast, porridge and honey, and even sweet almond cakes made her mouth water. She followed it to a main table, crowded by people nearly stacked on top of each other. Warriors in the morning were desperate to eat their fill before going off to train, and as a result, there were stronger warriors at the forefront hoarding food while others pushed against the table to grab at anything they could find. This caused fresh loaves, cakes, butter, and jam jars to topple off the table in a waste, causing more problems of ‘I was going to eat that!’ and ‘You owe me a new pair of boots, worm!’.

YN was able to dissect the entire situation and how it could be fixed, but shook her head. ‘No’ she thought ‘I can’t intervene on my first day. I just need to grab something and leave.’ With that, YN tried her best to squeeze between the crowds of people swarming the table to get some food. She huffed and tried again to move past the large lumbering bodies, her heart beating faster as the crowd’s shouting made her lose her bearings. She started to panic at the yelling and lack of space and gasped as she was grabbed by the hair and yanked to the side.

“Oy, I’m not done yet, vermin.” A man sneered down at her, his face caked in the oils of sausage links and jam. He spoke with his mouth full, sputtering food, and cackled as YN whipped her face from flying crumbs before turning back to his food. YN scowled, feeling something primal bubble up deep inside her. Letting her frustration get the better of her, YN took a deep breath before tugging on the leg of the einherjar who had grabbed her not a moment ago. He whipped around at her, snarling in annoyance.

“What do you want, you little rat?” the man sneered. YN blinked her big eyes and smiled up shyly at the hulk of a man.

“I’m very sorry, sir, but I’m having some trouble getting to the food table. Don’t you think it would be better if everyone simply took turns grabbing what they needed and then taking a seat?” Her voice seemed to echo and carry through the great hall like a song, and the shouting and clamoring started to quiet as people listened to her “suggestion”. The man in front of YN seemed to get clouded vision as he nodded slowly, his features relaxing as he finally swallowed his food and moved to the side so she could get to the table, others following suit, humming in agreement at the suggestion. The girl smiled and grabbed a loaf of warm bread, breaking it open and watching the steam ripple from the inside. She hummed as she slathered it with butter and jam and folded it back closed. Turning back, she bowed slightly at the crowd slowly surrounding her.

“Thank you, now I will take my leave and let someone else go. See? Isn’t that much better?” the girl asked with a smile, going to suck some jam off her thumb.

“Yes… You are right. So sorry, goddess…” She froze at the title, her thumb still in her mouth. She quickly popped it out and shook her head. ‘I did it again…’ she thought in a panic. YN swallowed thickly and waved her hands in the air.

“N-nevermind! It was a dumb idea, do what you want!” In a split second everyone seemed to regain their senses. The warrior she had spoken to blinked back his foggy haze and focused back down at her, glaring.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing? I wasn’t done eating yet, you little runt!” She gasped as he reached out his arm to snatch at her, and yelped when she was suddenly pulled by her scruff from the crowd. She was all but dragged outside and whipped around to a panicked Mal, who grabbed her face and scanned her body.

“My goodness, are you alright?!” Mal sighed as the girl nodded and then put on a scowl. “I thought I told you to come find me. The great hall is no place for you to be going alone, they’re all animals in there. ESPECIALLY in the mornings! The bunch of heathens.” Mal scolded YN until she noticed the girl's shy form looking meakly down at her bread. She sighed and patted her head before putting a hand on her back and leading her towards the training ground. “Now now, no use crying over spilled milk. I’m glad you got something to eat, you’ll need it. Hurry and wolf that down while you can.” YN nodded and took a bite of her breakfast, humming at the soft texture of the bread and sweet jam. She looked towards the training grounds and focused on a small boy, about her age. His golden hair shimmered in the morning sun as he moved swiftly against his opponent, a large lumbering man with fiery red hair. The boy turned, feeling YN’s eyes on him, scowled as he met her gaze. The girl frowned in return. ‘What’s his problem?’ she thought, suddenly feeling anxious at having to interact with someone who held such obvious disdain on his face.

Heimdall clicked his tongue as he focused more on her, trying to hear her thoughts, but couldn’t focus when they were so far apart. He didn’t pay enough attention to dodge a blow to the back of the head from the man he was sparing.

“Ow!” he exclaimed, glaring up at his brother, “ Hey, I wasn’t ready!” he snapped. The young man rolled his eyes, tossing his hammer lazily in his hand. He was nearly seven feet tall and still growing. His hair was tied back in two braids and a bun, and the scruff of his beard was just long enough for a single short braid.

“Pay attention, brat. I have more important things to do than teach you how to swing a sword around. The least you could do is pay attention,” he looked down at Heimdall and smirked, “and stop making it so obvious you’re trying to read minds. It’s pathetic.” Heimdall gritted his teeth.

“I’m already more useful than you, Thor. All you’re good for is throwing your weight around!” he snapped back. Thor stopped tossing his hammer and instead harshly held it under his brother’s chin, making him strain to look up at him.

“Better than being a sniveling little monster who can’t even use his gifts without sobbing like a baby. Should I tell All-Father about a few nights back? When you wept for hours because “it was just too loud to sleep~” Thor made a mocking whimper as he impersonated Heimdall and his last episode. Heimdall shivered at the mention of the All-Father and what he would do if he found out Heimdall had been crying from the voices in his head again. Thor continued, “At least I do what I was made for. I can fight, and you can barely do that.”

“Yes, I can!”

“Oh yeah?” Thor looked over at the girl coming closer to the training ground. Odin had already told him he was going to be given another brat to babysit and was dreading it until now. He smirked as he looked back down at Heimdall. “That little runt has probably never fought in her life. I bet you can’t even beat her.” Heimdall looked back towards the girl and then up at his brother.

“Is that a wager?” he smirked. Thor snorted.

“Sure. if you can best her, I’ll tell Father you’ve been improving much faster these past few days. If you can’t beat her, then…” Thor strokes his beard as he ponders a punishment then shrugs, “I’ll tell the All-Father about your most recent tantrum.” Heimdall’s eyes widened and he shook his head.

“You can’t be serious!”Thor simply stood straight and crossed his arms.

“I mean, if you don’t think you can do it-”

“Of course, I can!” the boy snapped, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Thor snickered and held out his hand.

“It's a bet then.” Heimdall scowled and put his little hand in his brother's. He wasn’t going to lose to some little girl from who knows where. He was an Aseir prince. And no one would know about the things that keep him up at night. Not even the All-Father.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

#fiction #heimdall x reader #heimdall gow #gow ragnorak #gow odin #god of war x reader #fem!reader #gow x you #heimdall x you #i don't know what else to tag #@engardeitsme #i think thats it #let me know if i'm missing one #mute!reader #child!reader #child!Heimdall #I am kind not complacent #dance with me like the sun and moon

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