#it was a long night of darkening those dungeons

[skxrbrand]

morning!

[loserboysandlithium]

18+ hoes

Just thinking about Eddie cleaning up after a game of dnd. You’re plopped down in his throne watching him collect the pieces, placing them carefully in the box.

You scoot back in the chair, lifting your skirt a little higher as you do just waiting to catch his eye.

You listen as he hums to himself, watching his brown curls bounce as he moves around the large table. He’s so pretty. He always is but especially in this dim lighting, the candlelight flickering in his brown eyes every few seconds. The whole thing an attempt to have a more theatrical atmosphere was quickly turning into setting the mood for the two of you.

You keep your eyes on him, watching his every move. Your eyes land on his hands. Metal rings adorning almost every finger. Fuck, those fingers. The thought of them inside of you makes you throb. Your mind being taken back to last night. His fingers deep in your cunt, the sounds of your slick loud as he fucked into you roughly. “Squeezin’ me so tight, sweetheart.” he groaned, curling his fingers with precision. “More, Eddie. P-please.” you had screamed making him grin as he worked in a fourth finger.

“Baby?” Eddie snaps in your face, shaking you from your little trip down memory lane. Your legs are crossed, thighs clenched together tightly as Eddie’s eyes roam your body slowly.

“Fuck, you look good in there.” he breathes, trailing his fingers down the side of the chair before hovering over you. He leans in, lips meeting your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he kisses it gently.

“My queen.” he hums, his warm lips working lower, long wet kisses down your neck. His calloused fingers work their way up your thigh, his breath hitching as he reaches your pussy.

“You little slut.” he chuckles deeply as he realizes you’ve got nothing on beneath your skirt, dropping to his knees in front of you.

“Mmm.. just for you, dungeon master.” you giggle playfully as he grins up at you.

His eyes darken suddenly as he pushes your skirt up above your hips roughly. “Such a pretty pussy.” Eddie rasps as his arms wrap around your waist, swiftly pulling you toward the edge of the seat.

He starts kissing you again, his lips coming halfway up your thigh, your skin so soft, bruising easily as he nips and sucks. Eddie loves the noises you make as he gets closer and closer to the top of your legs. One of his firm hands squeeze your upper thigh hard, pulling a moan from your lips that makes his cock strain against his jeans.

He lets out a low moan as he sees exactly how wet you are. “Always so ready for me, baby.” He smiles, deciding to tease you even more. He brings one hand up to your pussy, sliding a thick finger down your slit.

"You're so wet, princess. Gonna have to clean you up, yeah?” he teases with a smirk, his finger lightly tracing over your wet lips.

"Please.” you beg as Eddie moves his middle finger between your slick folds, just barely into your dripping hole.

He ignores your plea, removing his finger instead, sliding it up higher until it brushes your clit, making your body shudder.

"Please what, sweet girl? You don’t like the way I touch you?” Eddie taunts, his pretty lips curled into a slick smile.

"I- I do, Eds. But please… please don’t-” your brain can’t focus on the words as his finger continues teasing your sensitive little clit. Not enough to get you there, just enough to drive you crazy. You huff in frustration as you lift your hips, aiming to make contact with his fingers again.

Eddie slaps your pussy roughly making your head fall back into the hard wood of the throne as a sinful moan falls from your lips. “Words, sweetheart. You want me to stop?"

"No, fuck no. Don’t tease me, Eddie. Please. Need you.”

"What do you want me to do to you baby? Tell me."

"Just- fuck Eddie stop being a tease." you whine, looking down at him once again.

He chuckles then, sending vibrations through your core, making you even more wet. "Want me to eat that pussy, baby? Suck on your clit, while I fuck you with my fingers?"

"Yes. Fuck. Please Eddie. Need your fingers. Your mouth. Fuck me." you blurt out, not caring how pathetic you sound.

He licks his lips once, wetting them before he’s spreading your knees farther apart. He kisses your pussy. Small kisses at first. Teasing you further until you grip his chocolate curls, almost yanking them as you press him deeper into you. He picks up his tempo, sloppy wet kisses, moaning into you as he practically makes out with your pretty pussy.

"Oh fuck, j-just like that baby.” you chuckle breathlessly, keeping your eyes on him, finally getting the attention your pussy was aching for.

You bring your ankles around his shoulders, pulling him in even closer as his fingers dig into the plush skin of your ass. His long tongue dips in between your soaked folds, licking a long stripe from your hole back up to your clit. Sliding his tongue all around your pussy, tasting you, exploring every part before landing back on your entrance.

“You’re fucking leaking for me, pretty girl.” Eddie groans, his cock twitching, seeing you so wet for him only making him more feral.

He shoves his tongue in your pussy then, slowly pulling it out, making you gasp as he works it back inside, swirling it all around, coating his tongue with your sweetness.

Your eyes flutter shut uncontrollably as he continues tongue fucking you until you’re squirming around, almost slipping out of the chair causing Eddie’s fingers to cling to your hips, holding you in place. A grip so tight there were sure to be marks left behind.

“Eddie, Eddie please. Want more.” You breathe, a needy moan escaping as his tongue works back up to your clit, two fingers suddenly being pushed inside you, pumping roughly in and out of your tight pussy.

“Yes! Fuck!” you squeal as you take a tighter hold on his brown locks, bucking your hips, practically riding his fingers as he locks onto your clit, sucking roughly. You force your eyes open long enough to see Eddie’s brown ones watching you carefully, his plump lips still wrapped around your puffy clit, his free hand palming his cock through his jeans.

“Y-you look so pretty on your knees for me.” you purr, the unsuspected dominance surprising both you and Eddie, making his eyes roll into his head as his hand continues working in and out, slipping in a third finger as he fucks your drenched pussy with even more eagerness.

“You like that?” you test, your chest rising and falling rapidly as he brings you closer and closer. Eddie nods quickly, your clit still locked between his lips, his brown eyes looking up at you like a lost puppy.

“Feels so good, baby. Don’t fuckin’ stop. Wanna be a good boy and make me cum?” you push even further, Eddie loving every second of it, moaning loudly into your pussy. He pops off your clit, his lips glistening with your arousal.

“Yes. Anything for you. Fuck.” he pants breathlessly, his fingers driving into you at an insane pace, your back arching as you feel your body going higher and higher.

“Good boy. Such a good boy.” you barely manage to choke out before you lose control, your pussy clenching around his fingers, soaking his hand completely.

“Fuck yes. Cum for me, princess. Look so pretty when you cum.” Eddie praises before his face is back between your thighs, his tongue flicking over your clit again, sending even more pleasure throughout your body as you jerk against him, riding out every second of your orgasm.

Eddie slowly removes his fingers, replacing them with his tongue as he cleans you up, your body shivering with every soft lick of his warm tongue.

Your thighs squeeze around his head as he dips his tongue inside one last time, drawing out every bit of your cum that he can.

He stands up kissing you roughly, making you taste yourself all over his tongue before he brings his fingers to your lips, slipping them into your mouth. You meet his eyes as you slowly suck them clean.

“I’m fucking obsessed with you.” Eddie mumbles drunkenly as you swirl your tongue around his fingers. You push him off of you lightly, standing up from the chair before shoving him down in your place. You can see the outline of his hard cock making you bite your lip as you drop to your knees, reaching for his belt buckle.

“Let me show you how obsessed I am with you, Eddie.”

[ahqkas]

Y’know how doe eyes are suppose to be cute and when you stare at someone with doe eyes they look so cute? But what mattheo had a partner who had those doe eyes but instead of cute aura and stare. It’s an actual unsettling stare like from an angle their stare look darken and it kinda gives Mattheo a shiver. A bad and good one

-🍕

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

MATTHEO RIDDLE WASN’T EASILY UNNERVED. he thrived in the shadows, embraced the darker side of his family name, and found a strange comfort in the eerie silence of the dungeons. yet, there was one thing that could send a shiver down his spine — a single look from his partner's doe eyes.

your eyes were large and innocent, framed by long lashes that should have given you a sweet, almost naïve appearance. at first glance, you appeared harmless, radiating a charm that many found endearing. but mattheo had come to learn that your gaze held an unsettling power, something that lingered between the realms of innocence and something far darker.

it was during one of those late-night study sessions in the slytherin common room that he first noticed it. the firelight flickered, casting dancing shadows across the walls as you sat across from him, engrossed in your potions textbook. he had been watching you, a soft smile playing on his lips, when you suddenly looked up, your eyes locking with his.

for a moment, time seemed to freeze. the warmth of the room faded into the background, replaced by an inexplicable chill that ran down his spine. your eyes, wide and seemingly innocent, bore into his with an intensity that was almost predatory. it was as if you could see right through him, peeling back the layers of his soul to expose his deepest fears and desires to you.

a shiver, both good and bad, ran through him. it was a sensation he couldn't quite place — part fear, part fascination. your stare was magnetic, drawing him in even as it unsettled him. he found himself unable to look away, trapped in the depths of your gaze.

"mattheo, are you alright?" your voice broke the silence between the two of you, snapping him back to reality. the concern in your tone was genuine, yet there was a subtle undercurrent that kept him on edge.

he shook his head, trying to dispel the lingering unease. "yeah, i’m fine," he replied, his voice a bit strained. "just got lost in my thoughts for a moment."

you smiled, a small, gentle curve of your lips that did little to reassure him. "you should focus on your studies," you said softly, returning to your book.

as the weeks passed, mattheo became acutely aware of your unsettling stare. it haunted him during the day and lingered in his dreams at night. he found himself torn between the instinctual urge to flee and an irresistible pull that kept drawing him back to you.

one evening, as you both sat by the black lake, the moonlight casting a silvery glow over the water, you turned to him with those eyes again. this time, the darkness in your gaze seemed even more pronounced, sending another shiver through him. he reached out, almost without thinking, and cupped your face in his hands.

"your eyes," he whispered, his voice a mix of awe and trepidation. "they're . . . something else."

you leaned into his touch, your gaze never wavering. "do they frighten you, mattheo?" a hint of challenge was present in your voice.

the boy swallowed hard, feeling the weight of your stare. "they do," he admitted quietly. “but they also draw me in. i can't explain it."

"maybe that's because you see something in them that others don't. something that mirrors a part of you."

mattheo didn't respond, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. all he knew was that despite the unsettling nature of your gaze, he couldn't stay away. it was a paradox he was willing to embrace, even if it meant confronting the darker parts of himself reflected in your doe eyes.

[lou-struck]

The All Nighter

Kenma Kozume x reader

W.C. 1.1k

~ Your favorite video game series just released a new installment, and you are eagerly prepared to spend all night playing through it with your Boyfriend.

'Why is being a CEO of a startup so hard?' Kenma Kozume wonders as he tiredly shrugs his way down the long hallway to his apartment doorway. 

If it weren't for the seasonal wreath you hung on his front door, his tired eyes would've missed it. All he wants to do is go inside, lay down on the couch with you, watch a show, and order some takeout from that one place you like. But when he opens the front door to a darkened penthouse, those tantalizing plans of his seem to crumble before his eyes.

" Y/N? "He calls from the doorway, kicking off his shoes. "Are you here?"

When he is met with silence, his suspicions are confirmed: you are not home, and he is stuck missing his favorite person.

With a sigh, his tired legs carry him across the threshold into the home he shares with you, navigating the darkened halls to the bedroom so he can change out of his work clothes and put this long day behind him. His button-up shirt hits the floor, and he slips on his favorite sweatshirt.

The faded garment is littered with holes from years of washing, but it still feels like a second skin to the man. He runs a hand through his two-toned hair as he flops onto the couch. 

"Where could they be?" he murmurs to himself as he tries to remember you saying anything about having plans tonight. Although he tends to miss certain details when he is deep in one of his games, Kenma always pays attention to you.

Knowing that you will be home later, he just decides to rest his eyes since he is too tired to do anything else for the moment.

~

It's here…

It's finally here…

One of your favorite video game sagas just launched its latest installment in the series, and you can hardly contain your excitement. Ever since Kenma first introduced you to the series, you have been obsessed. You have played through the original game too many times to count and have been eagerly waiting for the latest installment to come out so you guys could play it together.

Lately, the two of you have been so busy with work and other adult things that the launch date of the game completely slipped your mind until you passed by your local game store today and saw a suspiciously long line out the door.

Your bag from that very store sways back and forth, bumping against your knees as you rush to Kenma and your apartment. Swinging open the door triumphantly, you see someone (Kenma) roll off the couch, startled.

"Ken Ken, You'll never guess what I got for us," you say in a sing-song voice. You hold the bag in the air and swing it back and forth, temptingly, as Kenma gets slowly to his feet.

"Y/n, did you really have to come in with that much energy?" he mumbles, blinking his catlike eyes sleepily up at you. But when he sees the bag, his face seems to light up with a newfound energy. "No."

"Yes," you grin as he takes it from you to get a peak at the goods. 

"You mean it came out today?" he asks, looking just as excited as you and somehow more awake.

"It sure did," you laugh, kicking off your shoes. "I hope you didn't have any plans tonight because now you and I are going to stay up and play through the whole thing."

"I'll order us some food." He says, reaching for his phone. You can tell from the satisfied look on his face that he has nowhere else he would rather be in this moment.

-

It's been a few hours, and the two of you are slowly making your way through this goliath of an RPG. If you thought the previous game was massive, then this is otherworldly. The two of you take turns manning the controls, crawling through dungeons, slaying monsters, and leveling up your skills.

There's so much content in this game that you haven't even been focusing on the main quest line, the main quest getting pushed further and further back beneath the miscellaneous questlines. 

"This is so cool," Kenma says, looking at the enchanted weapon you found in the depths of the dungeon you had just completed. 

"I-"you are cut off by your own abrupt yawn. "Sorry, I know. The graphics on this game are incredible, too."

"Are you getting sleepy?" Kenma chuckles. His body is warm next to yours as you hand off the controller. Gently, you rest your head against his shoulder.

"No," you murmur. "I still wanna play."

"Okay, then just relax a bit." He says gently. But there is something else in his voice that makes you not trust him all the way. "I'll tap in for now. Just try to stay awake a little longer."

"Good plan, you humm, watching as the avatar you created runs through a tall grassy field. The soft ambiance from the soundtrack is peaceful, and after a whole work week, you are more than willing to embrace it.

But at the same time, you want to stay up and keep playing. 

"Oh," Kenma says, pulling you from your thoughts. "It's a bit cold in here, don't you think? I'm gonna grab us a blanket so we won't have to stop later on."

You nod, and he stands. With your headrest gone, you are forced to support yourself with an arm until he returns with a blanket for you.

"Here, this will help us see the game better," he says softly, turning off the lights behind you. You only nod as he lovingly wraps a fuzzy blanket around your shoulders and returns to his spot on the couch next to you. 

As he plays on, your eyelids feel as if they are doubling in weight by the second. Strangely, the warm blanket and the darkened room make you feel much more tired. 

"Ken. Did you trick me?" your fuzzy mind murmurs. "Are you trying to get me to go to sleep?

"No, why would you think that?" he says, never taking his eyes off the screen. "I just want you to be comfortable."

Your heart flutters at his thoughtfulness. "M'kay", you say. But you're pretty sure your loving Boyfriend is trying to make sure you get some decent rest tonight.

How dare he…

"Oh, this game is a bit loud, I'll just turn down the volume a bit," he grins, knowing that you are falling for his little trick.

You cannot open your eyes, not that you want to. You are warm, comfortable, and curled up against your Boyfriend. As far as a Friday night goes, things can't get much better than this. 

The last thing you register before you drift off is the feel of his soft lips brushing against your temple and the sound of your game console shutting off.

Tagging:@pixelcafe-network @sleepyyshroom @isaacdaknight @qardasngan @dog55teeth

[adrift-in-thyme]

@uncleskyrule happy belated birthday!!! Thank you so much for your patience while I wrote this! I hope it's worth the wait!

------------------------------------------------------------------

Four knows what sleep deprivation looks like. 

He’s seen it spelled out on his grandfather’s face when long days turn his usual joviality to melancholy exhaustion and draws the shadows of half moons beneath his eyes.

He’s seen it painted across Dot’s beautiful features after an arduous night when the memories resurface, memories of a leering crimson eye, of claims to possession hanging heavy over her, of cages and darkness and smothering magic. 

He’s seen it shadowed across his own face too, when the battles within and without grow to be too much, darkening his features, drawing them thin, sucking the youthful fat from his cheeks, the light from his eyes.

And he’s seen it…on the faces of his brothers.

On Time’s when the moon is full. On Twilight’s when a quiet twilight falls and skeletal trees whisper in tongues known only to some. On Wild’s when the amnesia recedes, Warriors’ when phantom lips press across his cheek, Wind’s after he awakens screaming his sister’s name. On Hyrule’s when he gives too much, Legend’s when the adventures he never speaks of tell their tale in his petrified cries at night…

And now on, Sky’s.

Some may find it strange for a man who can drift off practically anywhere to suffer from fatigue. Add to that uncanny ability, Sky’s penchant for seeming one of the most mature of their little group, the most…put together.

But Four is well acquainted with the deceptions someone can tell through demeanor alone. He himself has been dubbed mature, put together, responsible. And while, yes, those labels are true (Four would certainly be cross if people decided to start dubbing him childish or, Hylia forbid, a disaster as they call some more unruly children in his Hyrule), the lie rests in the assumptions they bring about.

Beliefs of invincibility and impervious spirit. Beliefs that there is no need to be gentle or kind, no need to offer respite or lighten the load.

It is the same fate their leader suffers so often, the same Warriors and Twilight sometimes crumble beneath. Suffering silently, yet always strong. So strong.

And Sky…

Sky hides it better than anyone.

Four is uncertain whether or not he is the only one who notices his distress. Perhaps, he is. 

It doesn’t matter though. In fact, if he is the only one who has taken note of it then it is all the more important that he do something before Sky’s inevitable collapse.

But life never makes things simple. And in the end, he’s too late.

It has happened too many times now — a portal that separates the heroes into mismatched groups. Four thinks that perhaps, after his near defeat at the combined hands of the champion and the rancher the Shadow is attempting to be more careful. 

More conniving. More vicious.

Attack first and you won’t be defeated. Such is the attitude of wild animals and beasts. More than likely, the Shadow shares it too.

This would explain why in addition to splitting the heroes up, this portal also dumps them right onto a battlefield.

Or at least, it does for Sky, Legend, and himself. Four can’t be sure what the others are facing. But he can only pray it isn’t a sand-drenched dungeon packed with redeads and stalfos.

The unearthly screeches of the emaciated corpses fill his ears as he fights, teeth gritted, heart pounding. It’s all the three heroes can do to stay out of reach of their paralyzing cries.

Back up to escape one beast and you nearly collide with the mad swing of a stalfos’ claymore. 

Four winces as the very tip of a blade slices across his left arm and leaves an angry gash in its wake.

That’s going to need a bit of potion to remedy.

Beside him, Legend growls what sounds like a curse as he plunges his hand into his pouch and retrieves a fire rod. He brings it in a sweeping horizontal arc. In a blaze of blistering heat, a group of the monsters fall.

“Well done,” Four says with a breathless smirk. He plunges his sword into the gaping chest cavity of one of the stalfos still struggling for survival on the darkened floorboards. With a raspy exhale, it dissolves into ash. “I think you just turned the battle in our favor.”

“I’d better have,” Legend huffs. “The sooner we get rid of these things, the sooner we can get out of here.” He screws up his face in a grimace. More monsters crumple beneath his skilled hands. “It smells like death.”

It does, indeed, Four thinks as, finally, the last of the monsters fall. The stench of it hangs heavy, permeating the thick darkness that surrounds them, wafting from the thin threads of light carrying from faltering torches. 

But now that the battle is over they can focus on escape. Hopefully, to a place where it proves easier to breathe.

He sheathes his sword, glances around. The gash on his arm throbs and the various bruises and smaller cuts he earned join in its stomach-churning beat. Still, it could have gone far worse. 

“We all okay?” Legend asks, bangs falling into his face as he replaces his fire rod. 

“Yes,” Four says. “How about you…Sky?”

His voice pitches an octave higher as he catches sight of the Skyloftian, turning the question almost into an exclamation. 

The knight lies crumpled where he had stood mere moments before. The Master Sword lies fallen beside him, his cape flows over him like a blanket of snow. His breath comes in shuddering gasps that grate upon Four’s ears as he races to his side. 

“Sky!” 

He shakes him, slightly, and hazy blue orbs flutter open. Sky groans. 

“What happened?” Legend drops down beside him, panic in his voice and a half-empty potion bottle in his hand. “Did a monster get him?”

Four shakes his head. “I don’t think so.” A quick inspection provides no sign of blood or other injury. But Sky’s face is ashen and he shudders as though in the throes of fever. “Sky, are you hurt?”

“N-not hurt.” Sky curls his fingers into a fist, as though attempting to gather strength. “J-just…just…” He swallows, tries to drag himself up, and nearly collapses again. It’s only Four and Legend’s quick movement that keeps him upright. “‘M fine.”

“Like hell you are!” Legend’s eyes are blazing with emotion now. “Sky, what happened?”

Sky shudders again. He glances down at the trembling hands he has folded into one, white-knuckled fist. There is a certain helplessness in the look.

“I dunno,” he croaks. “Was fighting and the room start-started swirling.” He curls in on himself further, and Four wonders if the next shaky exhale brings tears with it. His voice is very small. “I just-just fell.”

“And you didn’t have the strength to get back up,” Four says, solemnly. An idea is already forming in his head, a confirmation of what he has witnessed these past few hellish weeks. 

I should’ve acted sooner.

But there had been fights both in and out of the group, and injuries and secrets unveiled. There had been discussions long overdue, restorations to be made in the face of pain and sorrow. And he, he had been in the midst of it all. 

Between explaining the Four Sword and its powers and making up with Wild, he just hadn’t found the time…

“You haven’t been sleeping, Sky…have you?”

Now, Sky raises his head, glazed eyes focusing unsteadily on Four. Slowly, he shakes his head.

Legend blows out a sigh. He sits down beside Four and brings a dusty hand over his sweaty brow. 

“Sleep deprivation? Yeah, that’ll do it. How long haven’t you been sleeping?” 

Sky swallows. A beat passes, then another. The oppressive feel of death begins to crowd in on Four again. He struggles to breathe beneath it.

Then, “Since Twilight,” Sky whispers, and Four’s heart plummets to the depths of his stomach.

Legend’s hand falls to his lap with more viciousness than defeat. His face screws up in an expression that toes the line between sorrowful and intensely irritated. “I knew something was up! I knew it! I should’ve — ”

“Couldn’t have done anything,” Sky croaks, leaning further into Four’s touch. A small smile quirks his lips. “Was me that should-should’ve d-done something in the…in the first place.”

Legend’s eyes narrow. “What do you mean?”

Sky looks back down at his hands.

Another theory is beginning to form in Four’s mind now, joining with the previous one, enlarging it, and embellishing it until things start to make sense. A theory born out of something Sky has said before, a snippet he had overheard and tossed aside in favor of giving his full attention to fighting the Yiga that had taken Wild captive.

“I’m sorry, champion,” the Skyloftian had said as he had helped Warriors tend to the boy’s wounds. “I was late…again. I’m sorry.”

“You blame yourself.” Four measures the words carefully, speaking each one with intricate precision. Lest he step in the wrong place and cause them all to plummet. “You blame yourself for what happened to Twilight.”

Sky lifts his bloodshot eyes. A tear wells in one of them then spills over to slither gracefully down his cheek. 

“Why would you blame yourself?” Legend asks, even as comprehension burns in his violet irises. “It’s not your fault the rancher got hit. You weren’t even near him when it happened!”

“I was near enough.” Sky’s voice is quieter than ever now, more like a whisper than anything else. “I know the skyward strike. I could’ve hit that…that thing if I’d been…b-been faster.” His breath hitches. But to Four it sounds defeated more than panicked. “I was late and he paid for it. I’m a-always…”

He curls in on himself, weighed down by exhaustion, shuddering with pain and sorrow. Legend looks at Four and Four looks at Legend. Then, slowly, together they reach out and draw Sky into their arms.

It’s strange. Four hadn’t taken Legend for someone willing to show physical affection freely. But he embraces the Skyloftian as though it is no price to pay. As though he has done so before.

Long nights. A shuddering sob. Soft feet dressed in boots with wings adorning their sides. Whispers in the dark that exhaustion muddles before Four can make them out. Amethyst eyes staring from over a hazy cloud of silken white. Sliding shut as a larger form huddles deeper into an embrace.

Sky shivers again and Legend holds him tighter.

“It’s not your fault,” Four murmurs, pouring every ounce of confidence he possesses into those words and praying that it is enough. “It’s not your fault, Sky. You did everything you could do for him. There’s nothing else you could have done.”

Sky doesn’t reply. 

They hold him, whispering assurances, as his tears wet their tunics and his fatigued body quakes beneath the burden he forces it to carry. They hold him until, at last, in the murky darkness, surrounded by carcasses of monsters and piles of resting sand, he drifts off.

In the arms of his brothers.

[karniss-bg3]

Hearts of Glass

A/N: This is a commission for @valdieball for his character Keladin paired with Kar'niss. This will be multi-chaptered.

Characters: Original Drow Male (Keladin) x Kar'niss

Word Count: 3,273

Location: Moonrise Towers

Fandoms: Baldur's Gate 3, Dungeons and Dragons

Content Warnings: Arachnophobia, story contains driders and fantasy elements.

Summary: Awoken in the middle of the night by a terrible nightmare, Keladin finds himself in desperate need to be soothed. The drow opts to take his lyre and climb to the top of Moonrise towers in search for a private spot to play. He wouldn't be left alone for long, soon confronted by the towers guardian; the drider, Kar'niss.

[AO3 Mirror]

***

“Run!”

The cry rattled in Keladin’s skull, pulsing within his eardrums. He recognized the voice that belted the command; a soft, feminine tone that he’d nearly forgotten after all this time. His vision was consumed by darkness unending, surrounded on all sides by walls of pitch black, leaving him blind to his environs. He tried to follow the order given yet he found his legs declined to obey, locking the drow in place by way of self inflicted paralysis.

“Keladin, hurry!”

The voice echoed throughout his prison bouncing off of unseen walls. He felt as if he may suffocate under the pressure to flee but why did his body refuse to retreat? Keladin opened his mouth to speak yet nary a sound left him. To will even the faintest sound felt as if it took a monumental amount of energy to conjure. His heart drummed behind his rib cage, a deafening sound that increased his anxiety. He wanted to call out to her and to prevent what he already knew would come.

“Oh Gods...Keladin! Keep running, get out, they’re going to—“

Her words were cut off by a horrid scream. It surged with such force that the darkened room in which he stood shattered like glass. Chunks fell away from the walls, ceiling and floor like pieces of obsidian. This sent the drow into a straight free fall, tumbling endlessly into the darkness below.

“Vaelic!”

Keladin sat up like a shot in his bed. His two-toned eyes were wide and his body was slick with sweat. Vaelic’s name still burned on his lips while he sucked in frantic pulls of air. He lifted one of his hands only to notice a tremble on his fingers. He clamped his palm to his face then ran those darkened fingers through his pale, shoulder length hair. It was rare for him to dream during his trance state and even rarer for the past to haunt him like this. He was certain those days were long behind him especially now that the Absolute had taken him under their wing. What good did his prior life in the Underdark do for him now? One thing he knew for sure, he needed air and a way to calm his nerves. His hands were anything but steady yet that didn’t stop the drow from collecting the lyre propped up at the side of his bed. In times of need he knew the instrument was one thing he could always count on and he needed that comfort now more than ever.

The hour was late and thus he sought a secluded spot in which to play. Keladin knew better than to leave the grounds of Moonrise towers. The shadow curse was in full swing and even the melodic strumming of his lyre wouldn’t be enough to keep the beasts at bay. There was one spot he knew he could go but it wasn’t entirely unoccupied. Moonrise had a single drider occupant under its roof and to many he was unstable and frightening. Keladin was off-put by Lolth’s “abomination” when he first arrived. Driders were little more than reminders of Her cruelty as well as the failure of those drow who didn’t perform in an optimal way. Keladin often wondered if that would’ve been his fate had he not escaped the Underdark. The very thought made him shiver but he refused to let the idea linger. Instead he threw on a cloth shirt and began to make his way up the long, winding staircase which led to the top of a tower.

***

Perched atop the tallest stone battlement, a single drider stood alone. His long locks of white hair hung heavy on either side of his scarred face. Weighed down by dirt and grime the once illustrious strands had lost much of their bounce and brilliance. The drider, known as Kar’niss, seemed to be lost in thought. His clawed hands clasped a wooden shaft attached to a lantern whose radiant light fought back against the ever looming shadows.

“Yes, Majesty...we hear you,” Kar’niss mumbled. “To be close to you, it is all we’ve ever dreamed. We will shepherd your faithful, we will remain loyal, it is us who serves you without question.”

It appeared that the drider was talking to himself, or to one of the many voices occupying his fractured mind. None could ever tell and most didn’t care enough to discover the truth of the matter. Each word was accompanied by a growling thrill that vibrated in the depths of his chest, a constant reminder that he was forever changed. While he spent much of his time alone in this very spot to be close to his “Queen” he never considered himself unattended. He had his Majesty, what more could he possibly need?

Kar’niss’ train of thought was broken when his ears caught the creaking sound of the tower door swinging open. This was enough to cease communication with the Absolute and prompt him to swivel around in search of the culprit. Eight thin, pointed legs afforded him swift movement, able to turn on a coin with little trouble. Kar’niss caught sight of Keladin as he stepped out into the open. All seven eyes followed the drow with caution. He was aware that Keladin was a True Soul and perhaps that is what earned him respite from Kar’niss’ nagging.

The night air hung heavy, stagnant and still. Despite this Keladin wouldn’t be deterred. He had grown accustomed to the gloomy atmosphere that permeated throughout the landscape. The drow took a seat on top of one of the many crates scattered over the area with his instrument clutched close to his person. He inhaled a deep lungful of air and put his full concentration into playing. His nimble fingers plucked at each individual string with accuracy and care as if pulling the music from the core of his soul. The more he played the more he felt the pull of the melody start to take over. Keladin began to sway gently in time with the rhythm while keeping his eyes closed. Visions danced within his mind, aiding in pushing away the dark thoughts once housed there. Steadily, the anxiety would melt away, allowing his muscles to relax and keep his focus clear.

Kar’niss, close to the source as he was, turned his head to look in the direction of the musician. His pointed ears honed in on the tune and he found himself mesmerized by it. Not many in the tower played music and the few who did weren’t up to the drider’s lofty standards. This new arrival piqued his interest in a way few ever did and now he wanted to know more. As Keladin continued to strum in perfect harmony he’d find he was unaware of the stealthy approach coming his way. A skilled creature of ambush and surprise, the drider had little trouble inching his way closer to the drow, his long legs making nary a sound. Both clawed hands clasped the shaft of his moon lantern keeping it close to his chest while reddish-orange pearls locked onto the back of Keladin’s head. Kar’niss stopped when he was a few feet away from his quarry, close enough to listen but not close enough to be within striking distance. To say he had trust issues was an understatement.

Keladin may not have noticed the initial approach but he soon became privy to the many eyes on him yet this didn’t impede his strumming in the slightest. While he preferred to play alone there weren’t many places here where privacy was afforded and this wasn’t the first time he had to perform for an audience. While his initial instinct was to hold distrust for the drider, considering his history, he knew that no other in their ranks worshiped and adored the Absolute more than Kar’niss. Somehow, this was a comfort to him, to think he’d have an ally of equal measure in devout loyalty. Or at least he hoped Kar’niss would be his ally, only time would tell.

The tune wafted across the battlement and the bard lost himself to the engaging refrain. Kar’niss’ pedipalps twitched against his torso, reacting to the chorus as if they wished to dance but the drider refused to allow them the pleasure. Instead he leaned in just a little further, closing that distance between them inch by inch. His breath hitched in his throat as if he was prepared to say something but his internal doubts put a stop to that. Gradually the song began to die down, the movement of Keladin’s fingers easing up to pluck the final few notes, ending the beautiful ballad. For a moment complete silence was restored to the tower, only broken by the drow himself.

“Was it to your liking?” Keladin asked, his eyes still closed. The tone of his voice was calm and even lacking any sort of aggression toward the drider.

Kar’niss jerked his head back once addressed. He took a few cautious steps away from Keladin and his muscles tensed beneath the hardened chitin that covered his arms and torso.

“It was...better...than the silence that came before it,” Kar’niss said.

The drow shifted on the crate while a smirk crept across his lips. “I suppose that is as high a compliment as I could ask for.”

The drider’s legs shuffled nervously beneath him. “The hour is late. Why is the True Soul here?” Kar’niss asked.

His brows knit and he side eyed the drider. “Please, call me Keladin...if you don’t mind.” He feathered his fingertips over the strings on the lyre. “The title of True Soul doesn’t suit me.” He inhaled a faint breath before he turned to better face Kar’niss. “I couldn’t sleep so I decided to play for a little while. If I am disturbing you I can move elsewhere.”

Kar’niss tipped his chin up by a hair then shook his head. “We will not command your departure. The lyre makes better company than nattering goblins.”

Keladin chuckled and plucked a single string on the instrument. “True.” He paused while his two-toned eyes lifted to get a better look at him. This wasn’t their first encounter but it was the first while they were off duty, so to speak. “You’re Kar’niss, right?”

The question made Kar’niss blink with some confusion while his hands squeezed the wooden staff tighter. “That is our name, yes. We aren’t addressed as such often.”

“Mm, I’ve heard a few of the colorful nicknames some have chosen for you. I don’t understand the reason. We’re all here to serve the Absolute and do Her will. There is no sense in squabbling with one another if we are to fulfill our purpose,” Keladin said.

Kar’niss sucked in a sharp breath and took several quick steps toward Keladin. “Yes! We are Her Majesty’s faithful, Her guardians! She bestowed us with this gift.” Kar’niss held out the moon lantern, it’s glow strong enough to push back the perpetual darkness. It did well to illuminate his monstrous features including the many blackened ovals peppered over his forehead; Keladin’s face reflected on their glossy surface. “She entrusted it to us.” Kar’niss’ tone dripped with pride.

He smiled as he viewed the intricate lantern with some interest. Its brilliance shone over the navy hue of Keladin’s skin tone, accentuating the waxy material of his prosthetic blue eye on the right side of his face. The more he studied Kar’niss the more his body language told him what he wished to know. He could already discern that he wasn’t like the other driders back home. He held a higher level of intelligence but more importantly he had something other driders lacked—self preservation.

“It’s a beautiful lantern worthy of its guardian...,” he trailed off a moment to think, “Is this spot where you live? I don’t see you much inside the building.”

Kar’niss shrugged. “We go where our Queen tells us to go. We stay up here to be closer to Majesty, to better hear Her voice. We live no where and every where and we are happy for it.”

“I see,” Keladin said. “Then you and I are of the same mind. I only wish to serve. The Absolute is the first place I’ve found where men are treated equal to women. I couldn’t find salvation with the spider queen, I couldn’t find salvation with Eilistraee, but here…,” he trailed off and turned his sights over the stone wall, peering out into the distance as far as the shadows would allow, “...I am worthy.”

This statement struck Kar’niss in a way he hadn’t anticipated. Not only did these words come from a drow, but it was rare that any here shared the same level of passion for the Absolute as himself. For a moment he found himself speechless as he stared at Keladin, observing him with quiet contemplation and intrigue. His legs clicked against the stone floor while he ushered himself closer to the bard, keen to get a better look at him. Kar’niss lowered himself without warning and invaded Keladin’s space, their gazes meeting now that he was at eye level to the drow. Naturally, Keladin was startled by the sudden intrusion and leaned back out of instinct.

An intense moment was shared between them as the two stared at one another. Keladin hadn’t been this close to a drider before least of all under friendly circumstances. Horrifying as some of his features may have been, there was a part of the bard that found portions of Kar’niss to be fascinating; even if the circumstances of his transformation were no doubt tragic.

“Did—Did I say something wrong?” Keladin asked, his tone hushed.

Kar’niss pressed his lips into a thin line and lowered the lantern to grant them a reprieve from its blinding luminescence. “No.” He leaned back and chose not to elaborate on the sudden shift. “If True Soul—Keladin wishes to play here you may do so. Our Queen will be pleased to know you honor Her with your gifts.”

The drow tipped his head to the side and shifted the position of the lyre in his lap. Kar’niss was aggressive toward most others in the tower, keeping his distance and snarling at any who got in his way. So for him to willingly invite Keladin into a place he considered sacred was indeed an honor and a privilege.

“I will take that offer to heart. Thank you, Kar’niss,” Keladin said.

The drider nodded and turned his head to look away from him as if a sudden surge of shyness had overcome him. It was clear that he wasn’t the most adept at social situations. When Kar’niss turned away Keladin noticed something had become tangled in Kar’niss’ hair.

“Ah, hold still a moment. You have something stuck in your hair,” Keladin said as he slid off of the crate and stood upright, placing the lyre aside.

“What?” Kar’niss reached up and touched over his locks carefully. “I do not feel it.”

“Lower your body and I can get it out, won’t take a moment.”

Kar’niss seemed hesitant, skeptical even. Drow were known to slit the throat of driders for fun, their hatred of his kind strong and everlasting. But since they had bonded over their mutual love and respect for the Absolute it did earn the bard a speck of trust; at least enough to make Kar’niss comply. The drider took a few steps closer to Keladin while pedipalps wiggled beneath his belly button, then lowered himself into the range of the drow’s reach. Keladin used his skilled fingers to gently tug at the strands and dislodge the unknown object within. It took some finesse on his part as he didn’t want to damage the drider’s hair or cause him discomfort which could disrupt their budding road to friendship. Kar’niss hissed through his teeth with minor discomfort as he wasn’t accustomed to having anyone this close.

Soon Keladin pulled the foreign mass from his wavy locks and examined it. It turned out to be a few dead leaves likely blown in on the intermittent winds. While he’d finished the task he didn’t alert the drider immediately. Rather he took the time to study Kar’niss’ features up close while he could, admiring his strong features and pale complexion. His fingertips reached out to caress the hardened chitin following his jawline. It had a rough, uneven texture and yet it was somehow pleasant to the touch. Kar’niss didn’t seem to feel the touches or if he did he wasn’t interested in commenting on the matter. Keladin started to grow concerned as he felt the growing urge to explore further. Curiosity killed cats but it could strike down a drow just as easily.

“Did you get it?” Kar’niss asked.

The broken silence made the bard jolt and he jerked his hand back with some mild embarrassment to follow. “A-Ah yes. It was just a few rogue leaves.” He held up the evidence for Kar’niss to see.

“Hmph,” Kar’niss snorted. He used his gnarled digits to scoop up the leaves from Keladin’s palm. He curled his fingers and crushed them to dust then shook out his hand, letting the remaining particles catch the breeze. “A waste of time, but we thank you all the same.”

“Of course.”

Keladin felt a little awkward for letting himself get carried away. His purpose was to serve the Absolute and he couldn’t allow himself to get distracted by feelings. The past taught him one valuable lesson; feelings were a good way to get you killed.

“Mm, I should return to my quarters. It would do well to get what rest I can before the morning roll call.” Keladin picked up his lyre and smiled up at the drider. “I’m glad you enjoyed the music. Perhaps...I can play for you again soon,” he paused, “for the Absolute, I mean.”

Kar’niss rolled his shoulders as he lifted the lantern, a metallic squeaking audible as it swayed side to side. “Very well. Do as you will, Keladin. We will be here, bathing in Her Majesty’s light.”

“For the Absolute,” Keladin saluted and turned to head back to the tower door.

“For the Absolute,” Kar’niss repeated as he watched the bard leave.

It was a strange encounter, at least as far as the drider was concerned. He returned to his perch at the edge of the tower, overlooking the area as a faithful guardian should. Without warning he felt a peculiar tingling sensation crawling over his jawline precisely where Keladin had touched. Kar’niss reached up and ran his claw tips over the area, perplexed by the sensation. It was warm, it was inviting, but he couldn’t understand its origin. He craned his head to look up, the faintest glow of the moon barely breaking through the shadows suffocating the sky.

“You sent him to me, Majesty?” Kar’niss whispered. “Thank you, my Queen. We will treasure your second gift to us. We are worthy, he is worthy.”

Kar’niss stayed perched in place and resumed muttering to himself but this time with a bit more purpose in his speech. Keladin returned to his quarters and flopped into bed, staring up at the ceiling while his forearm rested across his hairline. He didn’t know how to feel about the exchange between himself and Kar’niss but he knew he couldn’t stop thinking about him. A second performance would need to be sooner rather than later if he ever hoped to sate his curiosity about this eccentric drider.

After everything he’d endured, after all he’d seen, he deserved a little something for himself.

He’d earned that much.

[eldritcmor]

Independent Sources

Minors DNI 18+ possible smut ahead.

Summary: Storm makes a deal for information not easily accessible.

All characters are 18+

Again, Minors DNI

The church was a tall imposing building. Dark stone carved to reflect the Victorian Gothic style. High arches, wide spaces, patterns whispering of old gods. Gargoyles standing or crouching, proud wings and binding chains on display. The heavy ash wood door, gleaming with fresh polish despite the many hands that push those doors each night. The call of pleasure spilled out the door to greet You like an old friend. Cloth draped from the beams of the church in various shades of purple and blue. The materials are mostly silk or sheer cloth. The room is always near hazy with perfumed smoke. A scent of carnal pleasure and burning woods. Braziers of dancing flames are set up at various points. Casting extreme shadows along the stone walls. Piles of pillows, low sitting couches, and rugs can be seen all over. Their fabrics are worn but all still beautiful. Doors line up along one of the walls. A peek shows various dungeons from the mundane to the extreme. Most are occupied but others are bare and cold. Music can be heard thumping throughout the building, like a heartbeat to a titan of pleasure. Above it all at the back of the church sits a dais leading up to a throne made of ash wood and silver. The throne while pretty is not what draws Your eye. No, it’s the giant spider web of red rope framed in the churches cathedral window. And in the middle of this web is a person. They are clad head to toe in black, form fitting latex. They seem to be squirming in pleasure but not a single sound is heard from them.

Chos sits on the throne tonight. Lounged back like a bored lion. You know he is anything but.

"Hello dear." Chos's voice floats just under the music but you can hear like a clear bell. "Been a long time since You decided to darken out doorstep, darling. You look exquisite as always." You had dressed like you were going to a event. Navy corset vest paired with a silver tie. Black slacks and a white shirt sleeve button up. Simple bracelets and a single silver ring decorated your arms. Nothing too eye catching. Nothing that can be pulled or interfere with a fight. You knew the rules of the court and you were not here to be a threat.

"I need a favor."

Chos tilted his head to the side. "Oh. And here I thought we would have to drag you back into the fold. But you always did have your priorities straight. Shall we take this to the lower levels then?"

You nodded. Chos hummed as he stood up. A member of security approached as Chos stepped away from the throne. The throne was never unguarded. Many had learned that the hard way. Chos beckoned you deeper into the cathedral. The cathedral wasnt bound to the rules of reality as some places were and it was always amazing to walk through the paths outside of your reality. Stone became wood. Wood became soft grass. Soft grass became a lightly traveled path through olive orchards. A small dirt path became the base of a temple.

The Temple stood above you, solid and unyeilding in its alabaster glory. But something was off. The braziers were dark with long burnt charcol. The carvings were covered in moss and vines, obscuring the stories and warnings. The wood and bronze of the doors was bleached and tarnished. It took you a minute to recongize it, but you were oddly sad to see it in such a state. You glance at Chos.

”She really kept it up?”

Chos chuckled. “She had hope, as strange as it is. And look, here you are.”

You licked your lip nervously. “I need Information. A Group has been giving my current employer some trouble to put it lightly.”

Chos hummed. “You work covert ops, darling. You’re bound to run into issues eventually. So why the need for information?”

You hummed as you sat on the temple steps. “This group has displayed abilities and tactics associated with well, our side of the world.” You pull out your phone and quickly pulled up a video.

The video was taken from security footage. You watched Chos’s reaction as the personnel rushed the scene of what appeared to be a shooting only to slump lifelessly to the floor as smoke choked them out. The smoke condensed and pressed itself into a vague human shape before forming a solid person. Another being entered the frame and snapped their fingers. A corpse at their feet sharply jerked before pushing itself up to its feet. Chos’s face twitched into a minute frown. The three exit the frame not long after that.

You take a deep breath. “That was two months ago. Since then, there have been other robberies and multiple ambushes. We tracked them back to a group known as Váli. A pharmaceuticals company specializing in biotech. On our side, Cryptozoology and Less than savory experiments on humans. Unfortunately, the trail ends there. Orochi is as tight lipped as ever. Man, I never understood how she managed to get them to bend an ear."

Chos hummed. "She is rather good at getting what she wants but then again best to feed her so she doesn't eviscerate you on sight. Orochi deals heavily in her favorite food. I can get you names and possible last known locations. But you know the rules, I will need something in return."

Storm leaned back against the steps. "One night. I return for one full night."

Chos smiled, a cruel thing. “Deal.”

--

Kate jerked as a loud thump landed right next to her head. She stared at the tall stack of files on her desk. Her eyes traced the hand resting on top to Storm’s face before blinking and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She looked down at the files again. It clicked.

“Storm?” A light hum came in response. “How did you get these?”

Storm chuckled. “I made a deal with a sibling.”

kate narrowed her eyes. “What kind of sibling, Storm?”

Storm hummed as they tapped their fingers on top of the stack. “The kind that sheltered me when no one else would.”

[magicalmysteries777]

The Bloody-Handed and The Anguish of Loving Them - Chapter 5.

Summary: Almost a year has passed since Eddie Munson died and it feels like the only person that isn't moving on is Steve.

After spending the night studying a Dungeons and Dragons handbook, Steve is convinced he's figured out how to bring Eddie back. Not only that, but defeat Vecna once and for all too. Now he just has to prove it.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Masterlist: Here.

Chapter: 5 of 10.

Chapter WC: 3538.

CW: Swearing.

A/N: (see end of chapter for notes.)

This story can also be found on AO3 here.

Taglist: @ohmeg 🖤

March 24th, 1987.

Steve had always thought that the phrase “they locked eyes and it was as though time had stood still” was bullshit, nothing more than a heavily recycled trope used by romance authors to sell their readers on the ideology of ‘true love’ - a lie, a fable, pure fiction. Yet there he was, with Eddie Munson’s fiery, red eyes locked on his while the world around them stilled.

“Eddie?” he asked, cautiously. The party spun around, a well-earned number of muffled “what the fuck?!”s and shocked gasps escaping from their lips as they too set sights on the winged man staring down at them. The younger members of the party all began asking their questions at the same time, rambling over one another in a wave of emotion. Steve couldn’t form a coherent sentence, his mouth opening and closing comically like a fish as he tried to find words. Eddie remained silent, his eyes still locked on Steve’s as the rapid-fire questions kept coming at him.

“How did you get out of the grave?”

“Why didn’t you come back through the gate?”

“I can’t believe you’re actually alive.”

“Did the bats turn you into a vampire?”

“Do you drink blood now?”

“Does this mean you can be our Dungeon Master again?”

“Wait until we tell Jeff and Gareth.”

“Wait until we tell Wayne, he’s going to be ecstatic.”

“What’s the wingspan on those bad boys?”

“Are you going to help us kill Vecna?”

Eddie didn’t answer, his eyes still locked on Steve’s with his expression blank. Dustin stepped forward to approach Eddie and his babysitting instincts leapt into overdrive. Steve’s hand shot out and clasped onto Dustin’s shoulder before he could think about what he was doing, eagerly pulling him back to the group despite his protests. “Get off me, Steve. He’s right there. Eddie’s right there,” he pleaded.

“That’s not Eddie,” Steve replied in a hushed whisper, his eyes narrowing.

“What are you talking about?”

Steve felt his stomach drop as he watched the corners of Eddie’s mouth twist into a wicked, devilish grin.

“Little Stevie is right, boys and girls,” Eddie announced, his large, bat-like wings beating rhythmically to keep him suspended in the air looking down at them. “No Eddie here.”

“I’m looking right at you, man. What the hell are you talking about?” Dustin asked.

“You left Eddie Munson to rot, in that hole right there,” Eddie spat, pointing to the ground behind them. His eyes darkened. “He sacrificed himself for you, for everyone, and you left him.”

“We-”

“Don’t try to fucking justify it!” Eddie yelled. “You couldn’t even give him the decency of taking his body back through the gate. You left him in another fucking dimension!”

“I’m sorry, Eddie. We couldn’t-” Dustin began.

“Enough!” he bellowed, silencing Dustin in an instant. “Your pitiful excuses mean nothing to me.”

The party said nothing, waiting with bated breath for him to speak again and fill the eerie silence. Steve felt Robin slip her hand into his and give it a reassuring squeeze.

“Do you know how long it takes to claw your way out of a six-foot-deep hole?” Eddie asked, his voice growing more maniacal with each syllable that ushered from his lips. “Days. It took him fucking days to get out of that stupid hole and who should he find waiting for him as soon as he gets out? Vecna. Turned out he had a little proposition for dear old Eddie. Go back to rotting in the hole or join him. Eddie refused, of course. Said Vecna was “out of his goddamn mind” if he thought for one second that Eddie would join him. Swore blind he’d never betray his friends. Didn’t need all that much convincing in the end.”

“Come on, man. What is this? Some sick joke?” muttered Mike.

“Does it sound like a fucking joke to you?!” Eddie spat furiously. “Vecna can be quite convincing, you see? He told poor, little Eddie all about how his sacrifice was useless. How he died for nothing because his precious friends failed to get the job done. How you all left him to rot while you went about your lives, letting everyone believe that Eddie Munson was the satanic cult-leading freak who killed a bunch of Hawkins High students. But Vecna could help. Vecna could make it all worthwhile. He could change him, give him power - enough power to make all those who had wronged him pay.”

Eddie’s wings slowed as he flew lower, allowing the party to get a closer look at him in the dim light. His skin was pale, almost white, void of all colour and signs of life. His once deep brown irises were now blood red, the skin around his eyes dark and sunken. The corners of his mouth twitched into another cruel smile, revealing a long, pointy pair of fangs where his canines used to be.

“Eddie Munson is gone,” he began, “and I am what remains.”

“Bullshit!” Steve cried, unaware he was about to speak until the words had already left his mouth. Robin’s grip on his hand tightened.

“No bullshit, Stevie.”

“Eddie wouldn’t do that. He’d never become a monster, he’d never join his team. I know he wouldn’t do that to us, to me,” he argued, choking on his words a little, fully aware of how in denial he sounded.

“The Eddie you knew was a scared, pathetic child who ran away at the first sign of trouble. All bark but no bite. I am not.”

“You’re Kas, aren’t you?” Dustin asked nervously.

“You always were the sharpest tool in the metaphorical shed,” he replied, gesturing to the rest of the group.

“Just answer the question.”

“Kas the Bloody-Handed, the Lich King’s Lieutenant, at your service.”

Kas flew higher into the air before lowering himself into a taunting bow. Steve let out a stifled sob, his stomach dropping further than he ever thought possible.

“Everything you’ve done so far, every choice you’ve made, every battle you’ve fought - it was all for this. This was his grand plan all along. It was me who sent the army of the undead to greet you at Karlach’s cave. Me who gave the orders to finish you all off. I’ll admit, you’ve all gotten a little tougher since last year but it’s no bother. That was just a small taste of what’s in store for you all - I’ll get you next time. We’ll be seeing each other again soon.”

And with that final taunt, Kas flew off into the dark sky and out of sight, leaving the party to ruminate on the events that had just unfolded.

Fifteen minutes passed in utter silence before Lucas finally spoke. “We’ve got to kill him too, right?”

Steve felt sick to his stomach. He couldn’t do it, couldn’t sit there and listen to them debate on whether or not they were going to kill Eddie. Eddie who they’d all come back here to save. Steve excused himself and rushed into the trailer, making a beeline for the bedroom and slamming the door shut behind him.

Steve collapsed against the door, sliding down it and landing in an exhausted heap on the floor. Tears began flooding out of him like a burst dam, far too strong for him to keep contained. His throat burned as he wretched and choked on his sobs, his watery eyes locked on a rather distressed-looking Hellfire Club shirt strewn on the floor. He felt like he was losing Eddie all over again. Every word that Kas had taunted them with was just another knife to Steve’s heart, shattering more and more with each syllable.

“Hey, man, you okay?” came Jonathan’s voice from the other side of the door, trying the handle as he spoke.

“Go away,” Steve croaked.

“Talk to me, man. You can’t hide in here forever.”

“I said go away, I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Steve, open the fucking door.”

Steve pried himself off the ground and sat on the bed, looking like a child that had just been scolded by its parents, waiting for Jonathan to enter the room.

“You know,” Jonathan began, sitting next to Steve on the bed. “It’s okay if you’re not okay.”

“I’m fine. Just… a bit rattled, I guess?”

“Cut the crap, Steve. You’re a recovering alcoholic who just found out the love of his life is a fucking vampire, but not only that, a vampire that tried to kill us all.”

“He’s not the love of-”

“I know. Before he started with all that ‘Kas’ crap, you were looking at him the same way Will looks at Mike.”

“Oh. Does Nance know?”

“No, she just thinks you’re having a mental breakdown, and I’m about ninety percent certain most of the kids still think you’re doing this for Dustin. Will might have an inkling, though.”

“Robin figured it out too. It was only a matter of time.”

“So, are you okay?” Jonathan asked sincerely.

“No,” Steve admitted, the tears from earlier trying desperately to make a reappearance.

Jonathan pulled Steve into a hug, holding him whilst Steve let his tears fall freely once more. A couple of minutes later, Steve pulled away.

“It’s just not fair, you know?”

“I know.”

“He was supposed to graduate, he was supposed to get a record deal and go on tour but then he fucking died, and I thought I’d figured out how to bring him back but now he’s a vampire. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that? It sounds crazy. It is crazy. He’s a vampire,” Steve rambled, his left foot bobbing up and down on the spot. “A fucking vampire, Jonathan. How do you cure vampirism? Can it be cured?”

“Steve-”

“Maybe Lucas was right. Maybe we are going to have to kill him. We could take the spears apart and shave them down - stake to the heart and whatnot. Does silver work on vampires? Or is that just werewolves?”

“Steve, stop,” Jonathan interjected, his hand covering Steve’s mouth. “You’re spiralling.”

The door to the trailer opened and Jonathan scrambled to his feet, ready to jump into action for another unwelcome surprise. He visibly relaxed, letting out a deep sigh when he heard Robin’s voice calling from the living room.

“Guys, Will thinks he’s found something.”

Steve sprang into full babysitting mode when he exited the trailer, opting to ignore the knowing look Robin gave Jonathan when she’d seen Steve’s puffy eyes, and began laying down the first few steps of their new plan.

“Before Will says anything, I think we need to get out of here. I don’t know about anyone else but I need a shower and a hot meal before I can do any more thinking. I reckon we go back through the gate and meet up at my place. We’ll take showers, order food, start our new plan, and get some sleep. You little ones best call your parents too, so they don’t panic. Sound good?”

“We’re sixteen, you asshole. Stop with the little ones crap.”

“Sounds like Dusty-Bun needs a nap.”

-

Steve was the last of the party to make it back to his house. They’d filtered out of Eddie’s trailer one by one; it was too risky to travel as a group until they’d showered. The sheer amount of blood, sweat, and tears that were caked onto every one of them was bound to draw unwanted attention. He wasn’t sure just how long it had taken them, but as he hung his car key onto its hook he realised it was long enough for the ‘happy families’ charade they were all putting on to break.

“What did I miss?” Steve asked in a hushed tone as he took a seat next to Dustin and Will at the breakfast bar.

“They’ve been at it for the last fifteen minutes.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, Mike. Nobody does. Not anymore,” El yelled.

“I’m not trying to tell you what to do, I’m just saying-”

“You’re just saying what you think I should do and not listening to anything else anyone has to say!”

“It’s too risky.”

“What other choice is there?”

“We’ll come up with something.”

“There isn’t enough time!”

“Would you please help me out here?” Mike prompted, turning to them.

“I think-” Steve began.

“Don’t drag them into this!”

“I think,” Steve repeated with a little more authority, “everyone needs to take ten minutes and calm down a little bit. Mike, go outside and cool off.”

“I’m not a fucking dog,” Mike grumbled, making his way to the back door.

“You okay, El?” Dustin asked. She stormed upstairs and slammed the door behind her without saying a word.

“I’ll go check on her,” announced Will, already halfway out of the room.

Steve folded his arms on the table and dropped his head into them, both mentally and psychically exhausted. “What’s gotten into her?” Robin asked, pointing to the stairs behind her as she entered the kitchen.

“Mike doesn’t want her to face Vecna again,” Dustin answered, finally giving Steve some context clues to go off.

“Well, none of us want her to but we might not have another choice,” answered Robin.

“That’s what El said but Mike isn’t listening to her.”

“That boy is in for a harsh reality check. Anyway, the shower in Steve’s bathroom is free.”

“Dibs,” Steve interjected before Dustin could even open his mouth. “There’s some cash in the kitchen, order pizzas.”

It was the best shower he’d ever had in his entire life. Hot but not scolding and very, very long. Steve scrubbed his skin red raw until he finally felt clean and then he just stood there, letting the hot water rain down on him in the hopes that it would wash away his sadness too.

“Sadness comes in waves. If you’re scared of the wave, you can run away and wait for it to go back out - never really knowing what the ocean feels like. But if you’re brave, you can ride it out and let the wave wash over you. The water will pass and the calm will follow, as will another wave - but you’ll probably find that it won’t be so scary next time,” Robin told him. “Something my Grandpa used to tell me when I was feeling down as a kid.”

Steve’s sadness didn’t feel like dipping his toes into the ebbs and flows of a gentle wave. It felt like he was out in the middle of the ocean, treading water like his life depended on it, with no signs of land in sight.

A series of quick knocks and a muffled yell of “food!” grabbed Steve’s attention who, in turn, inhaled deeply, put on some clean clothes, and went downstairs with as much of a grin as he could muster. Perhaps he would drown those sorrows later.

-

The ten of them, significantly less cranky now they had full stomachs, gathered around the crackling fireplace in Steve’s living room, books out and ready to plan.

“Who wants to go first?” Nancy began.

“Things have gotten a lot more complicated than just killing Vecna. Kas gave us a warning and I think we need to make that our priority. If we’re going to kill Vecna, we’re going to have to kill Kas first,” Lucas answered.

“Well I think we need to cure Kas before we fight Vecna. It’ll be a hell of a lot easier to defeat Vecna with Eddie on our side than it will be to defeat Vecna and Kas at the same time,” Dustin interjected. “Any objections?”

“Sounds simple when you put it like that but what would that actually entail?” asked Jonathan.

“Most of the folklore ends in killing the vampire to cure it,” Robin answered, earning a scorned glare from Dustin.

“��You touch a creature that has been dead for no longer than 200 years and that died for any reason except old age. If the creature’s soul is free and willing, the creature is restored to life with all its hit points.’ True Resurrection,” Will read aloud, not looking up from his handbook. “Cleric, level nine. Nancy could cast this on him.”

“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere,” Dustin grinned, clapping his hands together.

“One small problem,” said Erica, all eyes landing on her. “The book said ‘if the creature’s soul is free and willing’ so that would mean, for the spell to work, Kas has to want to be cured. Sounds to me like he’s pretty set on being a vampire and killing us.”

“Eddie’s still in there,” answer Dustin, calmly.

“Bull. Shit.”

“We all heard him give the same speech, right?” Dustin asked, receiving a couple of nods in response. “He was talking about himself, Eddie, in the third person - as though they’re two different people. If that was the case, he wouldn’t have Eddie’s memories or anything like that, would he? He’s just a little… brainwashed. All we have to do is convince him that he wants to be cured.”

“You have a really bad habit of making complicated things sound way too simple, you know that right? He’s more likely to attack on sight rather than stand there and listen to us. We’re going to have to trap him or something,” Steve added.

“I can help with that,” El told him. “I can use the vines to restrain him.”

“Brilliant. So how do we kill Vecna?” asked Nancy.

“Will, didn’t you think of something earlier?” asked Robin.

“So,” Will began, snapping his book closed. “It was more like a three birds, one stone kind of plan. When a wizard dies any magic he cast will die along with him. So, in theory, if we kill Vecna the spell he used to turn Eddie into Kas will be null and void.”

“That’s only two birds, what’s the third?” asked Robin, stifling a yawn.

“Max.”

“How do we kill him?” asked Lucas, a look of determination spread across his face.

“It has to be me,” El announced.

“No,” Mike argued instantaneously.

“You’ve been awfully quiet so far, Mike. I don’t see you coming up with anything better,” defended Jonathan. “El’s tough, she can do it.”

“And she won’t be alone this time. She’ll have Will’s powers and the rest of us as backup,” added Steve.

“No,” repeated Mike, rushing out of the room.

“Mike, come back! I can help her,” yelled Will, following Mike from the room.

“I guess we vote, right? To make things fair?” Steve shrugged. “Nance?”

“I’m on board.”

“Jonathan?”

“Me too.”

“Rob? Robin?” Steve asked, not gaining a response. He turned to face her and found her drifting off to sleep, her head on her shoulder. “Right, everyone go to bed. We’ll carry this on tomorrow.”

-

March 25th, 1987.

Steve waited until he was sure everyone was asleep and tiptoed to the entryway, grabbed his car keys off the hook, and very cautiously closed the front door behind him. He’d tried to sleep, really he had, but the image of Kas glaring his fangs burned into his mind was too much for Steve to bear. He had only one destination in mind when he turned the key in the ignition - the twenty-four-hour gas station.

“Well, hello handsome. Hair cut suits you,” greeted the Clerk, the bell above the door diverting her attention from the magazine she had been reading at the desk. “Not seen you for a while.”

“Thanks,” smiled Steve, making his way over to the shelves. “I’ve cut back.”

He grabbed the first bottle of vodka he saw, not caring about the brand or price as long as it got him to sleep. He placed the bottle on the desk and searched his pockets for his wallet.

“Any smokes tonight, darling?”

“No, I’m good,” Steve answered. He produced a few bills from his wallet and tucked the vodka into his inside pocket before muttering his goodbyes to the woman behind the counter.

Steve argued with himself the whole way home.

He knew he shouldn’t, but what use was he to anyone if he didn’t get any sleep? He could miss something. Mess up an important part of the plan. Yes, it was vital that Steve got some sleep - even if that meant having a drink to do so. Or was it? What if he drank too much? It was hard to have ‘just the one’ these days. No, no. He’d be fine. He’d have one (maybe two) shots and go straight to sleep, wake up feeling slightly less zombie-like, and be ready when it came time to face Kas again.

With the front door locked and his keys hung up, Steve turned to make his way upstairs for a night of blissful sleep - instead, he almost jumped out of his skin. “Will? What are you doing up?” he asked in a whisper, gaining no response. “Will? Hello? You sleepwalking or something?”

He reached out and grasped Will by the shoulder, turning him around so that they were face to face.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Stevie,” Will growled, the voice coming from his lips not his own. His eyes rolled upwards, eyelids fluttering violently as he was placed under Vecna’s trance.

Author's Note: There’s a lot of dialogue in this chapter but I felt like we really needed to bond with the characters as well as have them bond with each other (and give Steve a hug, jfc) after that battle.

-

I can’t believe we’re halfway through already! Four more chapters and an epilogue to go. 😲

Just want to drop in and say a huge thank you to everyone who’s been reading, liking, reblogging, and commenting thus far. It’s super appreciated and I love finding out your thoughts on the fic. You’re all amazing.

[aerysamultifandom]

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

Plot: It seems that the members of the house of the dragon have a different way to show how they love somoene...

Type: angst I guess

Characters: Aemond, Daemon, Reader.

Numbers of words: 3.2k

┊

You loved the Targaryens very much, all as much as they seemed to like you, even if you preferred not to attract the attention of the dragon. You had heard stories about how some lovers of princes, counselors and guards ended up. Indeed, it seemed that the stories only ended tragically, for the woman who was falling in love with one of these beautiful men with white hair. You were an adventurous woman, perhaps you would go and see what the stories told? You dared, and so you drew the attention of Prince Daemon, and as soon as his eyes set upon you, he knew that you were the one he would love to death, no matter what happens, he had decided, you would be his. It didn’t bother you at first, you liked kissing in dark corridors, holding hands with him at banquets…

┊

At first it was fun, you had to admit, you liked to feel the excitement in your veins for fear of being surprised in the office. It seems, however, that Daemon was not the only one who loved you because, soon after your relationship with Daemon became official, you began to notice insistent looks on you, and although most came from the women of the court, you noticed that the younger princes had also set their sights on to and their eyes did not hide their attention. Like any woman, you felt delighted to receive their looks and intentions, even if you loved Daemon, you would never say no to other men for the great displeasure of the master of Caraxes. But you didn’t care, you were carefree of the dangers that were waiting for you in the shadows, but soon you will regret it, and it happened faster than you thought.

┊

It was a morning as you had already experienced a lot, however, you felt good on that sunny morning. You had woken up in the prince’s arms when you had just spent a beautiful night with him, moreover, he had promised you that he would take you for a walk with him in the forest, unfortunately your happiness did not last long. No sooner had you set foot in the outer courtyard of the dungeon than Prince Aemond called upon you as he seemed to have just finished his training. "Lady y/n!" you turned to him, giving him a smile as you knew so well to do. "My prince, how are you?" you asked politely, you were somewhat annoyed that he spoke to you when you had an appointment with the king’s brother. "I’m fine, lady y/n, where are you going?" he asked you politely when you seemed to be impatient, you gave him a little smile before answering him in a rather calm voice, but still showing your boredom. "I have to go to your uncle now, I’m sorry, but I have to go." you said without waiting for an answer before moving quickly towards the stables. You were somewhat relieved not to hear his footsteps follow you as you reached the stables.

┊

Your anguish disappeared when you saw the chosen one of your heart waiting for you with two brides in your hands. You approached him with one of your most beautiful smiles and as soon as he saw you, his eyes lit up. "You’re beautiful" you’re timidly blushing at his words. "Don’t be stupid, you saw me this morning!" You exclaimed in an embarrassing voice, looking down at the ground. He approached you and put his hand on your chin and you raised your head towards him as he lowered his eyes to yours as he began to speak a few inches from your lips. "Where were you? You know I hate to wait" his voice was low and hoarse as if he hadn’t told you all about what he had planned. "your nephew talked to me when I was already late" you explained in a calm voice while those eyes were darkening, maybe you shouldn’t have mentioned Prince Aemond but it’s no big deal to you.

┊

"Don’t talk about him my sweet dove, he’s not important" he whispered softly as he would tighten his grip on you, oh, he was jealous, jealous of his nephew. You were his, his, and he hated sharing people and things he loved, and you were the most important thing to him. obsessed with you? he was, but you didn’t seem to notice. " Forgive me Daemon" you whispered, you told him what he wanted and he released you before offering you his hand to help you ride a horse. He quickly got on his horse before heading out of town. It soothed you to go out of town from time to time, and it was even more so when you were in good company. It was cool when you were walking around with Prince Daemon whose horse was walking beside you, oh, he looked at you like there was nothing more beautiful in all Westeros. You spent a beautiful day with the prince, who pampered you as soon as you put a foot on the ground in the forest.

┊

As the sun was setting, you walked through the doors of the dungeon, more exhausted than ever, the forest walk made you more tired than you thought. You were happy to put a foot on the ground, despite all the love you could give to the horses, you hated having a back ache after a long walk on their back. Prince Daemon insisted on taking you back to your room and you could not refuse in front of his insistent gaze. Thus, you had just entered your room accompanied by the man, you sighed before lying on the bed closing your eyes. "Is everything all right, my dove?" you heard Daemon’s calm voice as he sat next to you on the bed. "I hate horseback rides," you mumbled while sticking your head in the pillow, but you could smell the man smiling even if you didn’t look at him. You quickly felt his hands on your back as he massaged you and at every pressure point he made, you moaned, you let slip a peep when the man stopped his massage and leaned over so he could look you in the eyes and pull hair out of your face. Even if would love to keep hearing those lovely sounds coming out of your beautiful mouth, we need to get ready for dinner."

┊

you grumble but you knew you shouldn’t be late this time because there was not only the royal family but also the Velaryon house. And then it will be an opportunity to have fun, won’t it? you got up from the bed and finally went to dress up to be presentable. You arrived in the room with Daemon and hurried to your place seeing that all were already present. "Still late?" made Alicent notice while she was giving you a bad look, she didn’t love you and you knew it but you didn’t care. Thus, you met the members of the Velaryon house, they all seemed to be pleasant people and the evening went well but you pretended not to feel well in order to leave sooner, you left with a quick step. When you had just come out, you felt a hand on your wrist and you turned to face Prince Aemond. "Did you really think you could leave like that?" He spoke in a low voice while his eyes were dark.

┊

You did a surprise head before you frowned. "What do you mean?" the man let go of your wrist before he looked at you with a frosty look. Don’t be silly, you know what I mean." You shook your head before sighing "Aemond, by the seven, tell me what you mean." The prince approached you, weighing the pros and cons. Did he really have to believe you when you told him you didn’t understand? he chooses to believe you. "Why do you spend so much time with him? Why do you spend your days with this man?" he spoke calmly, as if he was trying to make a child understand that he had made a mistake. "Daemon? Why am I spending so much time with him? Because I love him." He looked down at you and frowned. " Don’t you love me? Can’t you see I’m jealous of Daemon? he spends his days with you, he doesn’t leave you alone. You’re blind to the point where you can’t see that I want you to be mine." When you understood what he was saying, you backed away.

┊

"Aemond…" you couldn’t finish your sentence when you heard someone calling you and you saw Daemon coming. " y/n! What are you doing here? You said you were tired, I thought you were going to bed and not argue with Aemond." He spoke looking at his nephew with a bad look. What did he tell you to make you look surprised? His nephew was starting to exasperate him, he was tired of seeing him near you, of seeing him talking to you, why couldn’t you just ignore him? he took your hand "I think y/n is tired and she would like to go to her room." He said quickly before he asked you about it while you were trying to figure out what was going on. It seemed like the two men were competing for you and even if it flattered you, you were worried. They were children of the dragon and you knew that it would not be long before the dragon began to spew fire and, from that moment on, everything went up in flames and you wanted at all costs to avoid that. As you arrived in your room, you asked Daemon to stay and talk to him.

┊

"What do you think of me?" you asked the blond-haired man with a firm tone. "What do I think of you? You’re a smart, sympathetic woman and…" he doesn’t finish his sentence when you cut it. "Not in that sense! How do you see me? as someone you love or as a posssession?" he frowned at you, he seemed not to understand, so you saw fit to explain your thought. "Aemond made it clear to me that he sees me as something that belongs to you and that he wants. So I ask you one last time before I get you out of this room, how do you see me?" He stood up and approached you leaning his head to the side with his famous arrogant air. "Aren’t you mine?" He said looking at you, oh, you just wanted to slap him. "I don’t belong to anyone Daemon except myself. I’m not a toy that’syou're using or anything." You finished your sentence by pointing at the door." Get out, I don’t want to see you anymore" he didn’t answer but it was clear he was upset as he left slamming the door.

┊

Daemon was furious as he left your room, how dare his nephew say that? How dare he end your relationship? Oh, he was gonna find him and make him pay. You were his and he wasn’t gonna let you go like that, not so easily. He then made his way through the corridors to reach the apartments of Aemond, if this little lizard thought that Daemon would leave him alone, he was mistaken. He entered without knocking and was not surprised to find the prince with a prostitute in his arms. "Go out" he spoke to the young woman who hurried to get dressed before going out, closing the door behind her, once alone, he turned to the man. "Who do you think you are? I know what you said to y/n, and I’ll be clear, she’s mine." He said more than angry, but Aemond raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? I think I heard you arguing, she chased you out, didn’t she?" the tone of his voice was mocking. I will prove to her that she is mine and that you are worthless." Daemon spoke on leaving the room.

┊

So, their stupid competition began, you had to admit you didn’t realize it right away. For Aemond was the only one to come to see you at first, he apologized for what he had said to you the previous evening and he seemed so sincere that you could only forgive him. he offered you flowers and other gifts as a token of friendship for the sole purpose of irritating Daemon who, every time he saw him, seemed to want to kill him there. It amused him, however, you understood their competition when Daemon came to see you in turn and asked you to forgive him, being kind and compassionate, you forgave him. Thus, every day that passed, you always had one or the other at your side and they both seemed to want to appear as the best choice, you were always invited to the tournament that the king organized. At this kind of event, it was the one who received your favors first who won, which promoted to make the joust come quite bloody if prince and heir had to fight.

┊

Aemond was determined to earn your love, really, he was perfect, a gentleman as he could be. He would ask you for a walk, offer you necklaces, bracelets and many other things and make you happy, you would not lie to yourself. However, all of you were happy, you were not going to lie to yourself, you had the impression that he was forcing himself, as if his ultimate goal was to show that he had won against Daemon and this thought could not leave you. on the other hand, Daemon was present for you when Aemond was not available, he did not offer you a gift but supported you with actions and words, at least that was at the beginning. Indeed, when they noticed that you did not seem to want to choose one of the two, they began to monopolize you, to want to spend all their days with you, even if you did not want to. Little by little, the attention they had for you disappeared and only the competition remained for your greatest displeasure.

┊

It made you sad in a way because what they once did out of love for you was gone. They had come to the fact that when they had what they wanted, they were happy and that made you somewhat sad, why did they no longer pay attention to you? Were you just an object? The more days passed, the more this thought hung in your head. You stayed by their side as long as you could and it seemed that henceforth the roles were reversed, that it was you who sought to be loved, and not them who sought your love. Of course, none of this was visible in appearance, indeed, from an outward point of view all went well for them as well as for you. You had to admit, however, that in addition to feeling this sadness, you were annoyed to be investigating somewhere without being entitled to give your opinion or to say what you though. you were convinced, you were now an object of exhibition for the two Targaryens.

┊

You felt the need to talk about it with them and that’s what you did. You invited them for an afternoon to join you in your room, the only place where you felt confident enough to invite the two Targaryens. As they sat down you started talking. I invited you here because I have something I need to tell you, and it concerns both of you." The two men looked at each other, had you finally decided to choose one of them? Was the moment they’ve been waiting for for weeks finally there? Daemon looked up at you and smiled, "Tell us, I’m curious to know what you think." Aemond nodded and you were inspiring before you started talking. "I know you both seem to like me, but why do you treat me like I’m just an object, like a precious object that gives happiness to the one who has it. You don’t seem to know that I’m alive and human…do you really care about me or just do it so you’re not seen as bad people?" Your voice was sad as you looked at the two men. Daemon continued to observe you while Aemond seemed uncomfortable.

┊

You remained silent while the two men said nothing and it began to annoy you. Eventually Daemon spoke in a calm voice, as if he were carefully choosing his words. " y/n… You know we love you…" he started talking looking at his nephew and then you and you looked at him calmly, what was he going to say? "But, you know, we’re princes of the royal family…if we’re less affectionate with you, it’s because we…well, we got tired of you. It doesn’t mean we want to see you anymore, but that’s just how we love people." He spoke softly as if he had in front of him a frightened animal and he did not want to frighten him any more. His words were freezing your blood, but he kept talking. "You know, you’re not the only woman in our lives. So whether you feel hurt or sad because of my actions, I don’t pay attention." He said in a cold voice before he got up and left the room with a quick step.

┊

As Daemon went out slamming the door behind him, you turned to the prince who stood in front of you and looked at you calmly. He seemed to share the same opinion that his uncle and it hurt you. "If that’s how the Targaryens like people, I think I would have been happy never to meet you". you spoke coldly to the prince as he stood up and seemed to follow his uncle. However, he turned to you before going out. "It’s too bad you got boring, otherwise it would have been fun to see who you were going to fall in love with." He spoke in an arrogant voice before he went out again. Once alone, you would sigh, how dare they play with your feelings as if they were worthless? You didn’t know what to do so you spent the afternoon in your room thinking about what to do. Of course, it was unthinkable for you to stay in the Red Keep any longer.

┊

You make your decision in the evening, that the next day you will leave. You didn’t want to live here any more knowing that you’d just be seen as a toy, and you took the liberty of not telling anyone. So, at dawn you left the Red Keep with a quick step, before taking one of the royal horses, you choose the fastest before leaving the city, leaving behind you this story…no one knew what you had become, and your name never reappeared in the history books.

Hi, it's me again, thanks you for reading and have a good day !

[skinidilo]

The Dragon Catchers

SYNOPSIS: As the war of men and dragons reaches its most desperate point, Larys Strong devises a longshot scheme to even the playing field... and clear out the dungeons.

FORMAT: chapters

WORD COUNT: 600

WARNINGS: Mentions of self-harm, death, violence, coercion

Chapter 1

The tap of Larys Strong’s cane preceded him, reverberating far down the prison's darkened halls. The night guards straightened their backs when they heard it, perhaps from a shiver running down their spines. 

 Optimism had long since abandoned the freshly jailed ratcatchers. Nearly one hundred loyal servants of the crown, all of them jailed for the crime of one. A ratcatcher had killed one of the royal family, but nobody knew which one among them was the culprit. Justice needed to be delivered, urgently. They all feared the wild anger of King Aegon II. If the assassin didn’t confess soon, they may all be put to death. There was anger, frustration, and accusation among them now. As they bickered, Larys Strong approached. He was accompanied by a torch-wielding guard, casting harsh light upon the tortured ratcatchers' faces.

“Ahem,” the guard stepped forward “You have been relinquished of your duties. Lord Otto Hightower has provided the keep with a hundred cats from Oldtown.”

“They work harder than you,” Lord Strong interjected now, “They steal less than you. Many argue they are smarter than you… but I disagree. Your King Aegon the Second, in his wisdom, believes the realm would be a better place if you were all hanged, today, from the ramparts… but I disagree. I offer you a choice. Take up arms against the enemies of the realm, and restore your honor.”

“And if we refuse?” Lucan asked. He was a young man then,  blonde like his mother who worked as a handmaid in the castle. He had felt a great sense of injustice at the whole ordeal.

“Then you die.” Larys scoffed “Refuse, and we hang you from the ramparts for your family to gawk at. Come into my service, and clear your names… or die. That is your choice.” Not one of them refused, for at the time it did not seem a hard choice.

Lord Strong had omitted during his spiel that the service he asked of them was suicide. The ratcatchers numbered about 85. Those among them too old to fight had been left to rot in the dungeon until Larys could devise some use for them. The rest were marched outside of the city and ordered to wait in the rain beside an open field. Eight trebuchets, fresh from Duskendale, were brought forward. Heavy stones were placed in the buckets, and soldiers fired stones until they could consistently land them upon a sea of hay bales laid upon the field. When they were done, the ratcatchers were ordered to clear the stones from the hay. Then, the ratcatchers were ordered to climb into the buckets of the trebuchets. That was when all hell broke loose. 

A Dornish ratcatcher was stirring his compatriots into a frenzy, and for a while they argued with the soldiers, refusing to board the trebuchet. Lord Strong, seeing the commotion, ordered the dornish man shackled hands and feet. They then placed him, screaming, into the trebuchet and loosed it as he cried. He was thrown through the air very far, but miraculously he landed safely on the hay. Soldiers rode down, retrieved him, and brought him back. They fired him through the air again and again as the ratcatchers watched on. By the fourth time he’d stopped screaming. They fired him from each of the eight trebuchets and he came to no harm. Seeing this, the others consented, and soon a small army of men was being launched through the air. Lord Strong was very pleased with himself and began to refer to the men as dragon catchers from that day on - a title that foolishly filled them with some pride, Lucan especially.

[cassiopeiagarcia]

Once upon a time, in what is now Jaén, Andalucía, there was a king. And a war. Such stories usually begin this way, don’t they? Two swords clashing; the leaders of two opposite sides, the last ones standing. Around them, nothing but corpses. The sky darkened by the amount of crows flying towards the battlefield, attracted by the smell of blood, even if they yet couldn’t see it. Hungry, impatient to claim the soft tissues, to rip eyeballs from their sockets. While both kings fought and fought and fought to the death.

Moors against Christians. The year 1212. Moroccan and Arabian forces crossing the Strait of Gibraltar and ending the reign of the Visigoths. The creation of Al-Andalus, a place that would become a center of production and cultural interaction. A home for bright minds, with even brighter futures. But not all agreed – some others, of fairer skin and lighter eyes, consider the land as theirs. Could someone really claim that a piece of soil belonged to them? It seemed to be the case.

And as such, wars were fought and won and lost and treaties were sent and none of them accepted by any of the sides. ‘We won’t retreat,’ had the Moor king said. And as such, he had gone to war, in shining chainmail and armor, arm raised, holding a sword. Him and his horse disappearing into the horizon were the last things his most adored treasure, his daughter, had seen before being hidden underground, locked inside a secret room only her father knew about, with enough provisions and oil lamps so that she could survive until he was back. He hadn’t told anyone about it, hoping he could keep her safe. His last, and most fatal mistake.

Because he never returned. The Christians were victorious; her father’s heart had been punctured by a spear. She hadn’t been there to see it, but had she been, she would have watched as the king was standing there, in his white steed one second and then… not anymore. Strides behind it, he laid now, with the blade deep inside of his chest and a red stain that grew bigger and bigger and bigger. Eyes open, misted, that watched no more.

But Cassiopeia hadn’t been there. And as such, she trusted in her father’s prompt return. Prayed for it, even when madness started to get a grip on her mind, even when she had run out of oil for the lamps and of things to eat. Soon, she knew the truth she had refused to accept: no one would be coming for her.

Winter and hunger, worse enemies than entitled men. A battle she couldn’t really win. Desperation and insanity. Cassiopeia thought she would die – but she didn’t. Feverish, she couldn’t feel her frozen legs any longer, but when she touched them with numbed fingers, she found scales. Like that of a reptile.

It wasn’t long until despair became anger. And thirst for vengeance.

No longer could the big stone that acted as the door to the secret room keep her in. No longer was she scared of venturing out. No longer did she care about anything other than blood and killing and separating heads from bodies and sticking her sharp teeth on warm bodies be it woman, or man. The last vestiges of humanity she had left, she used them to sing. On dark nights, walking around, with her serpent tail acting as legs, the top half of her body covered only by red curls that reached her hips.

Whoever listens to me sing

Won’t see the light of day

Or the night of San Juan…

It was precisely the night of the 23rd of June that she found out something that would change her immortal life forever.

She woke up, ready to kill and rip and murder, as hungry as ever, to realize she didn’t crave blood. Instead, bread and potatoes and spiced meats like her mother used to cook filled her mind. Shaking her head to dispel those thoughts, she stood up from the humid floor of the castle dungeon she had made her home, only to find she still had legs.

A pair of white, sickly-looking things, filled with bruises but not with scales.

Each step felt like a thousand knifes stabbing the soles of her feet, and yet, she danced and sang and cried of happiness and did so some more when she found an old dress that had belonged to a maid once and put it on and went to the nearest town and was served mead, and bread with meat and potatoes and danced to the tunes of the local tavern’s bard, until he asked her if she wanted to spend the night with him, and she did, kissing him until her lips were sore and stroking his skin, his hair, until her hands were tired.

However, by morning, a blinding pain.

And she didn’t have to lift the sheets to know, she was half serpent again.

Because the bard’s meat had been ripped from his bones, his blood sucked and the tender hands that had caressed her body were not anymore attached to his.

Cassiopeia ran away. And hid. And started eating only lonesome travelers that deviated from the road, or those that wanted to see the legend of the Tragantía, as the locals had started to call her. She cured her bloodthirst with those that invaded her privacy, furious with their behavior, feeling rage travelling through her body instead of blood, plasma, and other fluids.

And still, every San Juan’s night, she went out. She bathed, carded her curls, wore a dress. She was still a celebrated beauty; slanted brown eyes, full lips, a round face. Too thin, from the famine before her transformation, but nothing a blouse and a skirt couldn’t mask.

Every year, she wandered the world. Stood wide eyed in front of new things – a television, you say this is called? Are there little people inside? – and heard people’s stories, mostly in bars she entered, pretending to be a foreigner, justifying that way the way in which she spoke Spanish; using strange words, that were out of fashion. But Cassiopeia still managed to make herself understood and to learn, so that hopefully, the next year, she wouldn’t draw as much attention to herself.

It was 2020 when she met him.

A man, another traveler. Perhaps looking for something else in that small town, but finding her. And she knew; finding him was one of the reason why she had been alive for over 800 years, why she hadn’t wished to die any of them. A scholar, maybe, asking questions about eternal life, immortality, a deity he called Sleep. Local legends.

‘I can tell you all about them,’ Cassiopeia said out loud, with a smile, drawing shapes on the wooden table using a finger as a pencil.

‘I would be thankful…’ He seemed to be looking for a way to call her.

‘Cass.’ Her smile grew wider.

Hearing her name come out of his mouth was like a dream come true. Telling him all about the Tragantía, the beast who many used to scare their children when they misbehaved in Cazorla, didn’t. And that’s why she confessed, after their lips had met in a dark alley, remembering the fate of that bard and not wanting this to happen to him. To Alexander.

She told him everything. How she had been left to die. How consumed by hunger and thirst she had gone crazy. How she had cried, waited for her father to return, but he hadn’t, he hadn’t and her prayers had been directed towards a deaf God who hadn’t replied to them, and…

Others would have questioned her words. Would have screamed in horror. But not him. Instead, he placed an unruly curl behind her ear, and looked at her straight in the eyes.

‘You’re the most beautiful monster I have ever seen, then.’

Was he joking?

They had gone their separate ways, after the light of the morning had started to illuminate the small hotel room they had rented for the night. With a promise. One that she hadn’t thought he would fulfill.

‘See you next year.’

However, there he was in 2021. And 2022. And 2023. Waiting for her, spending hours simply talking, holding her hand, kissing the top of her head, her cheeks, her lips, her shoulder… as if he had truly missed her.

As if he loved her, as much as she loved him.

@j-ofspades

[gardens-light]

The Girl Online

Don't know about you guys. But sometimes watching my old favorites brings back childhood/teen-hood crushes. Raphael and Leonardo. Currently writing ideas for Mickey.

During his down time, Donatello mainly played online games to get away from what felt like a rather lonely existence. The digital world gave him the freedom to mingle with others-in a way, without compromising his family secret. Most of his friendships online was rather short-term, and Donatello didn't mind it. Therefore his long-term friendship with you, came to him as a pleasant surprise.

Hours of gameplay rolled into months. Creating a bond between the pair of you. The cute nicknames and odd flirtatious comments became apart of your regular convocations. But it soon leaded to something more spicy...

Content- Cyber-Intercourse. Male and female masterbation. Courage language. Dildo BJ. Fingering.

"Enemy is right where we want him, Big Boy."

His cheeks darkened to a slight darker shade of green. The nickname always causing him to blush whenever it escaped your voice, and through his headset. A slight chuckle breathed down his microphone, while typing the commands upon his keyboard.

"Shot is lined up, and ready on your command, Baby Girl." A smile tugged at his lips, as your angelic laughter flowed through his ears. Donatello didn't had to see you in person, to know you were blushing.

His chosen Hero lined up their majestic weapon towards the final dungeon master. And with a few clicks of a mouse, the villain's health bar vanished, leaving the NPC body drop to the floor and fade away. Leaving behind rare loot for you and Donatello to pick up, and upgrade your characters.

"Yes!! Totally worth the grooling four hours! Champion's of World of Warcraft! Right here!" the turtle cheered gesturing to himself and his screen.

Your laughter was like a melody through his headset. "I am having a victory sip of Red Bull, right now. And I believe we'll be in an agreement, when I say, that's enough for one night."

Donatello let out a sigh, "yes, in complete agreement. It's like you've read my mind."

Exiting the game and bringing up Discord, the terrapin smile widened, once your features took up his screen.

"So? Any plans for the remaining of this evening?" You asked, while adjusting your hair and re-tying it into a messy bun.

Donatello slouched in his gaming chair, gently swaying around. "No. I mean... there's a few things I should do, but I'm feeling lazy and putting it off till tomorrow."

You unknowingly returned his smile, since on your end all you could see was the terrapin's chosen thumbnail. Only hearing the audio of his voice.

"What things are those?" You asked.

Donatello looked over to his work table, which stood in the middle of his lab. The surface littered with unfinished projects and inventions. "Oh... just a couple of things, my brothers want me to work on. I've been working it straight for the past couple of days, so tonight's distraction was welcomed."

"As always" he quickly added, turning his attention back on the screen.

Your cheeky smile caused him to raise an invisible eyebrow. Your voice changing into a teasing tone, "oh... so you wanted a distraction, Big Boy?"

"U-Um... yeah. Y'know?... Our usual gaming plans..."

As a small amber begun to build in your core. Watching you bite your bottom lip softly, made an unusual feeling spun within Donatello's chest.

"Maybe I could provide another distraction tonight...?"

The terrapin pulled a weak smile, "l-like what, Y/N?"

A flutter build in his chest, as his nerdy heart skipped a beat. His hazel eyes watching your hands slowly slide down the curves of your torso. His gaze widening as your fingers gently curled around the hem of your geeky shirt, and slowly pulled it upwards.

You could hear his deep and unsteady breathes through your Airpods. The low mutters of Donatello whimpering into your ears, as more of your torso became exposed. Pulling off the shirt and carelessly throwing it onto your bedroom floor, Donatello's jaw hung low and opened mouthed.

The sight of you in his colour. A bra adorned with lace, pushed up your cleavage to a stunning view, while the undergarment highlighted the delicate curves of your bust. Giving the terrapin a indeed good view. His breath got stuck in his throat, as you stepped away a little from the montor, but still in view of the camera. A whimper breathed through your Airpods, while you slowly yet teasingly. Took off your silky PJ bottoms, revealing a matching set of mini-briefs, which elegantly showed off the curves of your thighs and behind.

"O-Oh... baby-I-I mean Y/N-"

"You can call me, baby. If you want... Big Boy."

The nickname rolling of your tongue quickly took hold of a whole new feeling for Donatello. A deep green flushed his cheeks, fluttering feeling within his chest butterflied, and rolled into a strong amber within his core. His wide eyes watched you come a little closer to your monitor again, placing your hands a little forward onto your chair as you leaned forward.

Knowing he had a better view of your cleavage, caused your amber within your core to roll into a dim fire.

"I've been wanting to do this for a while." Your flirtatious tone admitted, "having a little... 'fun' between us. Should be the perfect distraction for you. How are you feeling?"

A nervous chuckle escaped into his headset, while a weak smile lingered upon his lips. "M-Me? Oh! Um... a-a little surprised. Nervous. U-Unexpected..."

His voice died down into whimpers of pleasure again. As the act of you playfully foundling with your breasts distracted him. Heavy breathing fogged up his glasses, while a tight sensation begun to build around his crotch.

"Turn your camera on, Donnie"

Your sweet pleading voice, echoing an innocent tone drove his mind into a spin. Looking down at the bulge in his jeans, Donatello's words begun to stumble out of his mouth.

"B-Baby Girl, if you keep doing this... I-I'm afraid of what might follow."

"Am I making you uncomfortable?"

Your sympathetic tone caught his attention. His eyes watched your posture slowly shift into a less seductive position. The terrapin's heart skipped a beat.

"Oh! No! Never! I-Is this moment unexpected? Yes. Am I a little nervous, but also turned on? Also yes. But you could never make me feel nervous. I-I mean, you're gorgeous!"

Your shy smile caused your blushing cheeks to spread the redness downwards.

"See? Right there! How you tuck a bit of hair behind your ear, whenever you're shy. You have no idea how much I look forward to hearing your voice on our 'game nights.' Or how it never matters, how shit my day goes, all I need is your smile to get me through."

"Donnie-"

"No, I'm serious! Having a girl like you, willing... wanting to do... with a geek like me? Man..."

Your sweet giggle echoed throughout Donatello's headset.

Although he always claimed to not really do well with expressing emotions. Donatello never failed on how to build your confidence, and make you comfortable. You knew he was extremely self-conscious of his appearance. Even the odd photo that he sent you (which you didn't know was digitally altered), only somewhat gave you an mental image of what he looked like. So you didn't want to ruin the moment by trying and convince him of turning on his camera. After all... you were only planning of putting on a show for him...

A cheeky, seductive smile returned to your lips. As you brung your legs up onto the seat of your gaming chair, and knelt against the soft leather. Propping yourself up a little, and adjusting your seating to sit on your feet. With one hand fumbling your breast and the other slowly working it's way down towards your core.

"Hey Baby Girl, what... oh, oh shit."

Your sweet giggles soon turned into whimpers of pleasure. Donatello's cheeks flushed a deeper green, as his wide hazel eyes watched you pleasure yourself. Moans leaving your voice sounded heavenly, as his kaiak jeans begun to feel too tight and restricting his erection.

Your breasts lightly bounced with each moment of your body. Heavy breaths moaned into your earpiece, as your roaming fingers pumped, massaged and slid into your wet entrance. Your hand stopped fumbling your breasts, and moved up towards your collar bone. Feeling your neck and toying with the small golden necklace. Before reaching up towards your lips, and seductively gave your index finger a suttle bite.

Your soft moans and whimpers of his name, caused Donatello's mind to enter a frantic spin. And his pulsing erection pressing tightly against his jeans certainly wasn't helping. His hands gripped onto the armrests' of his gaming chair, nail's digging into the torn fabric.

"Oh Donnie" your inccocent tone whimpered. "Are you just gonna sit there and watch me have all the fun?"

Don't say it! Don't say it! Don't say it!-

"Baby Girl, I want you on your knees!" words stumbled out of his mouth. But it was all that your ambered fire needed to build and burst through your core.

"Oh yea? And do what Donnie?" your teasing voice asked between whimpers.

With his mind clouded and too in the zone to think properly, Donatello's words slowly strung themselves together. "I want you on your knees, and put your mouth over something."

A small giggle escaped your lips, and a small, satisfying squish sound came to the terrapin's ears. As your fingers left your wet sweet spot. Watching you seductively lick off your sent, which dripped down your two fingers. Ripped a heavy sigh from Donatello's lips.

His gaze remained focused on you, as you speechlessly followed his order.

"You want something in my mouth, Donnie? I've got this which should create a nice image for you."

A small chuckle left Donatello's lips, as you held up a rather thick and green dildo.

"Oh yeah, baby. That's certainly gonna create an mental image alright."

Moving his camera close to his keyboard, and tiling the cam onto a lower angle. Donatello swallowed down his nerves before turning his camera online.

As you lowered yourself onto the floor, kneeling against the carpet. Donatello watched your eyes widen a little, as the close up of his crotch area came into view upon your monitor.

"D-Donnie...?"

"P-Please forgive and ignore my appearance right now." His tone temporarily switched to his usual sweet geeky tone. "Right now... I-I just want you to look up at me, while you suck off that dildo."

"Yes Donnie."

Your simple reply was all Donatello needed to fuel his confidence, and unfasten his zipper. Allowing his erection spring through the opening and glisten with pre-cum. Without a word, your lips found their way to the tip of the dildo. Your wide eyes watched the terrapin gently fondle with his balls, as your tongue licked and slid underneith of the dildo's shaft.

With a free hand, Donatello placed a flesh-light at the tip of his cock. Moans slipped into his headset, as the small vibrations of the toy erupted the sparks of excitement throughout his body. After watching you tease the dildo's shaft and tip with your tongue, Donatello slowly pushed his cock into the flesh-light.

His low grunts mixed in with your muffled moans. Moving the toy against him, in time with your mouth around the dildo. The terrapin leaned back into his chair, allowing his eyes to roll into the back of his head. Imaging your mouth sliding up and down his erection.

"Yeah... yeah. Baby Girl. Suck it."

Donatello's eyes fluttered open, as he heard your muffled moans slowly pick up peace. He focused back onto his computer screen, the view before him caused moans to escape from him. This would forever be imprinted in his mind.

From his point of view, he could just see the green dildo. Your plump lips moving around the toy, as your saliva made it glisten underneath your desk lamp. Your tongue gliding, cradling along the bottom of the shaft, each mouth movement ending in a lustful kiss upon the tip. Which you always looked up at your camera, knowing the terrapin had a perfect view.

The flesh-light kept up with your peace, creating a full emerged moment for the pair of you. A wondering hand of yours returned to your soaked entrance, allowing your breasts bounce with each moment as your hips bucked against your hand. Your free hand holding onto the dildo's base, pinning it against your keyboard as you begun to slowly deep throat the toy. The flesh-light glided along Donatello's member, like your lips effortlessly moved against the dildo. His balls became heavy, and knew his climax was building up.

Fireworks and bursting ambers erupted in both of your cores. Soon your moans and whimpers filled the air within your ears. Your mouth moved away from the dildo as you begun to jerk off the toy.

"Donnie! Donnie!"

"Yeah! Yeah! Baby Girl!-"

"Hey Donnie! What are you doing?"

An unexpected voice from the doorway, caused a small yelp to leave Donatello's throat. Quickly tucking himself under his desk, feeling the flesh-light fill with his cum. His hazel eyes darted around his lab, till they landed onto his younger brother.

"M-Mickey! I've told you not to disturb me while I'm in my lab!"

The young sibling raised an invisible brow, "but I heard weird noises coming from your room and I wanted to know if you were ok."

Donatello wiped the droplets of sweat off his brow, while momentarily removing his headset, so your constant moans couldn't distract him from attempting to recompose himself. He'd never been so thankful of placing his P.C set up in the corner of his lab.

"Are you ok...?"

The purpled masked turtle took a few deep breaths before answering his innocent brother.

"Yeah... yeah, Mickey, I'm fine."

"What was with the funny noises?-"

"I-I was playing a game. With ba- Y/N, my online friend. W-We're playing a ah- horror game. Resident Evil!... Eight! Super scary. Sorry for disturbing you Mickey. O-Our gaming session has finished, so I promise you'll won't hear anymore... funny noises."

"Ok! No problem. You didn't disturb me. I just wanted to make sure you were ok."

Donatello pulled a weak smile. "Th-Thanks Mickey... Goodnight."

Donatello counted to five after his brother left his sights. Slowly turning his attention back onto you, whom now was still kneeling against your bedroom floor but covered in the pretend cum from the dildo. Since he tucked himself a little more under his desk, in attempt to hide himself from Mickey. All you could see was Donatello's waist and small bit of his lower abdomen was in your view. He removed the flesh-light from his member, before running a hand over his smooth head, and adjusted his glasses.

"I-I'm sorry, Y/N. Y'know... about my brother walking in."

Your sweet laughter assured him that the intimate moment wasn't ruined, as you grabbed a nearby towel and cleaned yourself off.

"It's ok, Donnie. It was quite an expirience. There's no way I'm going to sleep peacefully tonight."

"You're telling me... this is forever imbedded in my memory, and I certainly wouldn't want it any other way."

A shy smile came to your lips, as the towel slowly folded into your lap. "Can we... do this again sometime...?"

"Fuck yes, Baby Girl! And perhaps... maybe in person someday...?"

Your flirtatious wink made Donatello's little geeky heart flutter again.

"I would love that, Big Boy..."

[kitmon]

S'That Metal? | Eddie Munson x Fem!Musician!Reader

Series Masterlist

Summary: A new neighbor just moved in a door down and Eddie can’t reign in his curiosity.

Pairing: Eddie Munson (Stranger Things, 2022) x Fem!Musician!Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Tags: swearing, Eddie falls and hurts himself (talk of aching pain and soreness), probably some bad guitar talk because I’ve only been playing for a few months, reader is a bit mean but, I mean, she’s totally justified, Eddie's kinda a creep but he has innocent intentions

Author’s Note: So here’s a little snippet of a series I hope to continue writing! And if you guys can get this post to like 50 notes (20 of those notes being reblogs) I’ll finish this chapter and post it and I’ll think about continuing this series because I do really want to write it but I’ve been discouraged by lack of interaction in the past. If I do reach my notes goal I’ll probably touch this up and change the title for a full series but we’ll see what happens. Happy reading!

The sun is hanging low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the tops of the pine trees that decorate the edge of Forest Hills, indigo darkening the east as day gives way to night. Eddie’s van rumbles along the dirt road as he pulls into the lawn, tapping his fingers over the steering wheel as the sweet licks of Saxon’s Graham Oliver blair through the speakers. He flips the ignition off and steps outside, skipping to the front door with a satisfied smile over his lips as he fumbles with his ring of keys. Another successful D&D session, he thinks to himself as he inserts the right key into the lock. Though the freshman can be rowdy at times, he enjoys their enthusiasm and it makes nights like this, where a devastating blow is dealt to one of his obstacles, all the better, with cheering and celebrating and pats over the shoulder. He couldn’t care less if they destroyed his entire fleet with one critical hit, as long as they were having fun, he was doing his job as Dungeon Master.

Just as he’s about to push the door open with his shoulder, the familiar sound of a whining guitar can be heard nearby. He looks to the trailer that’s situated next to his uncle’s. A moving van has been parked in its lot since yesterday morning and the front lawn, even now, had boxes, empty and full, littering itself. That isn’t what interests him though. It’s the muffled voice of that guitar, piercing the paper thin walls of these shitty trailer homes. 

All the more curious, Eddie pulls the key out of its socket and pockets it in his leather jacket. He takes a few wide steps towards his neighboring trailer, attempting stealth but really only achieving looking like a complete dork. His steps are soft and as he moves closer the sound becomes much clearer. He’s pressing his ear against the side of the mobile home and— Is that Whiplash? 

He’s turning his head to stare at the wall in disbelief, eyebrows furrowed as if it could quench his confusion. He notices a warm light seeping through a window only a foot overhead and he begins whipping his head around to try and find something that could operate as a temporary step stool. With the natural light of the sun nearly gone, the star having hidden behind the tall pine trees to the west, he can hardly see anything too far away but he can make out the outline of a thrown out milk crate that holds a few empty liquor bottles and soda cans. He reaches for it and dumps out all of the contents into the dirt and he promises that the next morning he’ll collect it and throw it in the trash but as for right now, he just needs to see who or what is playing that song.

As he takes a step onto the crate, the blue plastic of it groaning under his weight, he can barely peek his eyes over the window’s sill but it’s enough to see the makings of a very small kitchen. Just past the small bar he can see into the living room and that’s where the sound’s coming from. He can see your figure cradling the guitar— a sleek cherry red Jackson Pro, he could make out with some difficulty from his position— held up tight against yourself. Your eyes are focused on the lower length of the fretboard as you chew at your lower lip in concentration, your fingers gliding across the strings with a mastered practice and as a particularly intense part of the instrumental kicks in, you start to curl in on yourself, really feeling the music as you shake your head to the sounds of the solo screaming and crying to the will of your fingers.

Eddie watches, spellbound by the way that your picking hand flicks up and down with a practiced precision and as he’s leaning on the tips of his toes to try and get a better look, your eyes fall to the window in passing before doing a double take, your eyes wider as they fall upon half of Eddie’s face. You both share a panicked look, your fingers halting over the strings as you drop your pick, the thin piece of plastic slipping from your fingers and disappearing into the jungle of your shag carpet. In the frenzy of being caught, Eddie’s foot slips and the crate is tipping over, sending him tumbling to the ground. 

As the image of his eyes to the top of his head disappears from your sight, almost in a flash, you’re detangling yourself from the guitar strap and setting the instrument so that its propped against the coffee table before you're jogging into the kitchenette and leaning over the sink to try and see where he went. You climb onto the counter, your knees and shins resting awkwardly with the dip of the sink, and push the window open.

As you poke your head out, you see the mysterious set of eyes and unruly bang-ed figure writhing in the dirt and rubbing at his hip. He looks like the wind got knocked out of him as he groans and begins to prop himself up on his elbows, lifting his head to catch your eyes.

“Who the fuck are you?” You question, your words strict and serious.

Eddie whines at the embarrassment of it all before giving you an answer.

“Uh, I’m Eddie… Eddie Munson,” He clarifies, before pointing to his trailer, only a bit away. “I’m your neighbor.”

Your eyes flick to his trailer next to yours before scanning over his figure and determining how much of a threat he actually poses.

“Is looking through people’s windows normal in this town or is that just a you thing?”

Eddie chuckles as he lifts himself back up with creaking joints and a pained grunt.

“Uh, no,” he laughs, “I just heard you playing and um…yeah, I don’t have much of an excuse for, uh… peeking through your window.”

“Okay,” you mumble to yourself before speaking, “Well, don’t let it happen again, weirdo.”

You reach for the handle along the window to close it before Eddie interjects.

“Wait, wait, wait!”

Your hand falters as your gaze falls back to him.

“ I just— Was that—” He huffs a sigh before asking, “Were you playing metal? Like heavy metal?”

As he asks the question he mimics shredding on the guitar, wiggling his fingers like he’s hammering on a fretboard.

You puff your cheeks up with air and blow out a sigh, rubbing your fingers over your forehead as the absurdity of this situation causes a mild migraine to bloom out from your temples.

“What? Are you gonna file a fucking noise complaint or something—”

“No, no! I love metal! Just— fucking look at me!” He chuckles, dragging his hands over his frame to draw your attention to his Dio t-shirt and ripped jeans adorned with his glinting chain catching the low moon’s glow. He’s lifting his hands to tousle his disheveled head of hair and show off the length and the volume of his curls. “I just didn’t know that anyone in this park cared for it. You just moved in, right?”

You squint your eyes before tossing your attention from left to right, seemingly confused by his curious line of questioning.

“Yeah.”

“Cool, cool. I’m Eddie, by the way,” he says, throwing his hand up in a curt wave.

“You already said that,” you notify him, your voice dull and devoid of any humor, and his hand balls up into a fist before slamming into his thigh as it falls in disappointment.

“Right,” he laughs at himself under his breath before sucking his lips in towards his teeth.

“Ok, well, this really has been a lovely chat but I have work in the morning, so, bye.”

He tries to protest you leaving but his voice catches in his throat as you’re slinking back into your home and slamming the window shut behind you.

“Welp, “ he sighs to himself, “screwed that one up big time.”

He ambles back to his trailer and brings his hands to rub over his tailbone and backside, groaning with each limped step he takes.

[dailyadventureprompts]

Villain: The Evenfall Empress

Adventure Hooks:

Wretched flying beasts have been emerging from the wilderness, hunting and devouring those caught out at night before burning up in the light of dawn. These “Gloamstalkers” aren't native to the region, and seem to have manifested all of a sudden.  A famed local ranger seeks the party’s aid in capturing one alive and transporting it to a dark safehold for study.

Travelers report seeing a grand castle out on the moorlands or rising from the depths of the forest, towers standing out starkly against the ominously low hanging moon. Since these tales never correspond to the location of any local structures or the moon’s actual phase or portentousness, most dismiss them out of hand as the fancies of out of towners.

Strange symbols have begun to appear in across the region: walls graffitied with  pair of skulls under a crown, or grisly totems found in the wilderness recreating the same only with bone and rusted nails. It’s not until the party meets a knight astride a skeletal horse carrying the banner, both rider and mount’s eyes alight with ghoulfire that they learn what it means: These lands are to be claimed by the Evenfall empress, and they would do well to submit when the time comes.

Setup: History has all but forgotten Kiviara Vilse, the unrecognized and unwitting by-blow of a faltering dynasty, who spent much of her life as a servant in the castle that for any justice should have been hers. Years of abuse darkened her heart, and attracted the attentions of a malign spirit that saw in the young woman an ember of hatred that would burn the very heavens if only it was nurtured. Stoking her envy and ambitions, the spirit led Kiviara to perform wicked rites and sacrifices, opening a way into the Shadowfell where her training could be complete.

Returning to the material plane near a century after the fall of her father’s house, Kiviara stands at the head of a host of shades, sorrowsworn, and worse. Fealty and tribute is what she seeks, sowing fear across the land until the people “recognize their true sovereign” and bend the knee. The castle folk have been seeing is the shadowfell reflection of her childhood home, cut free from its foundations in the underworld and slipping between planes at her command. Each night it appears in a different place, allowing Kiviara to deploy her forces wherever she wants to project power. 

Further Adventures: 

Infiltrating Kiviara’s shadow palace is difficult not only in that the party will have to anticipate its appearance, but also time themselves carefully as the structure flees the rising dawn. A party that lingers too long delving the castle’s dungeons may find themselves entombed when the surrounding chambers fade, or falling to their deaths if they ventured too high into the structure’s innumerable towers. There is also the risk of being dragged back to the shadowfell, where the evenfall empress’s minions are at their strongest. As a delve that may take weeks to complete, the party can expect to find their points of entry barred and traps laid for them, as the inhabitants respond to their repeated intrusions. 

Kiviara’s introduction to the campaign is best made with a light touch, her influence subtly creeping in while the party is busy with other matters. The villainy of the evenfall empress isn't that she’s willing to back up her claims of authority with threats of force (every noble does that) but that her attempts to build a new powerbase will draw other evils to her, whether from the mortal world, from the shadowfell, or even beyond. This is the danger of all so called dark lords, as they create an enviroment where evil beings can temporarily work together for the chance of upsetting the powers that be. 

Kralvize, the fiend that made the evenfall empress who she is today has ambitions that far outstrip demanding tithes from villagers and unleashing shadowbeasts upon the landscape. Cursed into a wraithlike existence and incapable of holding power himself, he aims to push Kiviara to further and further entrench herself in the fight to assert her claim, until her mind cracks under the pressure allowing him a means to possess her. In challenging this would be conqueror, the party may give rise to an even greater villain, one who cares nothing for the lands his protégé attempted to rule and will happily see them bathed in blood if it means establishing his dominion. 

Background: Kiviara’s father was a philanderer, but born high enough in the lines of imperial succession that who he jumped into bed with was a matter of national security. Though he plied her mother with promises of love and social elevation, she was cast aside as soon as she began to show: escorted away to a place where her daughter’s birth would not feed the gossip of the court.  Years later, Kiviara under a false name sought employment in her father’s palace, dreaming of a reunion with the man her mother still spoke of so highly. What she found was a spoiled and lecherous drunkard, barely reigned in by the ambitious harridan the royal advisors had him marry in the intervening years. Seeking to earn the sort of approval that would let her catch her father’s eye, Kiviara threw herself into work and spent her best years toiling under the abuse of the castle’s staff and those she sought to appease. 

After losing her temper when one of her snotnosed royal step-siblings ruined months of fine embroidery (a present for their mother), Kiviara was banished to the catacombs, to chase mice and dust darkened passages until she was old and blind and forgotten. Instead Kiviara listened, listened to the whispers coming from the cracks in an iron-bolted sarcophagus she found in a sealed off section of the tombs. It told her about the secret passages worming through the walls of the castle, used to spy and steal at her leisure as a means of taking back what she was owed. 

Two years of being captive in darkness turned her thievings to petty cruelties, after which it took very little coaxing to convince Kiviara to use the passages to slip into the room of her wicked little siblings and silently dispatch each one. Disappearing into the walls, she was back into the catacombs before the alarm was ever raised, by then placing the two children’s heads in offering upon the sarcophagus, letting blood seep in through the many cracks and breaking the bindings that had kept the devil Kralvize bound to a mortal cadaver. This had been one of Kiviara’s imerial ancestors, and the fiend’s last mortal vessel in his thwarted attempt to seize power. 

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[adorerdraco]

Whole Lot of Red ✧ Draco x Reader

Summary: Sneaky meet ups with Draco where nobody knows the two of you have a thing for the other until the day he sees someone flirting with you and lets his jealousy get the best of him. AU where its around seventh year and Voldermort never existed so Draco never got traumatized !

Warnings: light smut/hinted smut, jealous/possessive-ish Draco, a little more mature themes 

Words: 1.8K

A/N: aging him UP for this one ! and making draco a tad rude bc the way i picture it is just WOW also i like to try to change up the way i write him sometimes :) also couldn’t find this gif anywhere so if it looks low quality its bc i made it >:( i want so badly for him to walk up to me like thaaaat anyways I HOPE THIS IS GOOD

It was a funny thing, feelings, and the way they blossomed in places they had no business being in. Those very specific stomach churning butterflies and skipped heartbeats were unmistakably there every time you found yourself in the Slytherin Prince’s presence. It was a shame really, you had never even given him the time of day prior to the time you were forced to work on a Charms project together but now here you were; completely and undeniably entranced by him. 

Your group of y/h friends and you were gathered in the foyer outside the Great Hall, the doors wide open and welcoming students for the lunch that was going to be served in just a few minutes. Your friends were lost in conversation and you couldn’t be happier as your focus darted around the room hoping to spot the platinum mop of hair.

Out of sheer coincidence, a boisterous group of Slytherins had entered the foyer from the direction of the dungeons, all talking loudly and jokingly pushing each other as they came into view. Your eyes landed on the laughing blond in the middle, his toothy grin almost twinkling under the sunlight that streamed in through the large medieval windows. His gaze wandered around the room for a moment before stopping on you, the smile on his face morphing into a smug knowing smirk. 

A shivering weakness shot up your legs, your heart doing somersaults in your stomach as you recalled the previous night. It involved you sneaking out of the common room to meet Draco in a dark and hidden corner of the castle in the dead hours of night, his Prefect duties long finished and a looming fear of getting caught by Filch. It was you being backed into said corner, his body flush against your quivering one, a strong hand clamped tightly over your mouth to muffle the whimpers that unwillingly left your mouth as his lips left trails of wet kisses along the exposed skin of your neck and chest. It was his knee in between your legs, pushing you harder against the wall as your hands got tangled in his hair while he held your face in place by your jaw, whispering compliments and desires into your ear with kisses to it in between, smiling coyly to himself when he heard the small gasps of pleasure coming from you.

All this was because of a simple charms project, the two of you forced to spend a couple weeks together where it was constant bickering and malicious teasing until the tension between the two of you had gotten so overwhelmingly strong it was suffocating. It had gotten so unbearable that one day, Draco finally had enough as you were reading something out of your textbook for him, suddenly knocking it out of your hands and scooting closer to you on the shared bench, his minty breath hot against your face and darkening gray eyes flickering from your lips to your widened e/c’s as he whispered a breathless, “can I kiss you?” 

Post study make out sessions quickly turned into sneaking away from friends throughout the day which finally led into slipping out of common rooms to meet at night. No one ever noticed nor caught on to the two of you, the both of you keeping it a secret so you wouldn’t have to deal with people’s undesired two cents. 

As much as you enjoyed the hands on affection, you found yourself liking the intimacy afterwards even more. You looked forward to sitting down somewhere with him, his arms wrapped warmly around your body as you asked about each other’s day that branched out into talking about anything and everything. You would skip back to your room afterwards, smiling from ear to ear with your head in the clouds until one day it dawned on you; you were in a sticky situation of constantly wondering “what are we?”

You never dared to ask him though, terrified of his answer and that he would leave you in the dust for even bringing it up. In all your years at Hogwarts, you’ve never seen Draco with a girlfriend, he was the most well-known boy at school, an arrogant and proud Slytherin, a skilled quidditch seeker, and an irresistible flirt. But never having the title of ‘the boyfriend’, despite the countless girls that hung off his arms nearly begging for his attention.

“Y/N,” your friend broke you out of your thoughts, a sly smile on her face as she elbowed your side. “Your little friend is headed this way.”

You looked at her in confusion, turning your attention towards the tall Gryffindor, Trevor, that was walking towards your small group, a bright smile on his face as his eyes stayed trained on you. Your friends giggled teasingly, already knowing what his presence would ensue. He was nice, but annoying as he relentlessly flirted with you every time you had your Transfigurations class with him. You just chose to ignore him even though he always ended up sitting next to you or around you no matter how many times you moved. He was someone who you complained restlessly about to your group which caused them to laugh and poke fun every time he would come up to you around them.

“Y/L/N!” He said happily, attempting to give you a hug as he came up to you which you only begrudgingly returned with a lazy side hug. He took your hand, leading you a few feet away from your group so he could talk to you privately. “I was wondering if you wanted to meet up at the library after lunch to study for our test later this week?”

“Oh,” you trailed off, trying to come up with an excuse but in the midst of your thoughts you remembered you had already made plans with Draco. Speaking of, you had forgotten he was only across the room, unbeknownst to you that he was staring hard at you and your classmate. “I’m busy today.”

“How about after tomorrow?” He asked again hopefully. “We can even go to Hogsmeade after, butterbeers on me!”

You frowned slightly, knowing that this was not a friendly collegiate conversation, but another ploy to try and get you to go out with him. His attempts were increasing week by week and you denied him every single time yet he never got the hint.

“Still busy,” you smiled at him, hoping that if you were to appear nice, it would soften the continuous blow of rejection.

“I’m not going to stop asking until you say yes,” he sighs, hands slipping into the pockets of his robe as he longingly looked down at you. “You might as well give in.”

His hand came up towards your hair, a skinny finger brushing through a strand of your hair as he pulled a small fluff of lint from your robes before flicking it into the air. You stood frozen in place, the gesture being painstakingly too much for your comfort and borderline creepy coming from him.

Draco felt himself shake with anger, the sight of you smiling at the Gryffindor and that he was running his fingers through your hair made his blood boil. Greeting the git with a hug. You being led away from your friends by your hand. He hated the sight. The thought of any man other than him being so close to you made him feel sick to his stomach, a rage sparking from deep within him he never even knew existed. He watched as you looked up at the boy above you, a weird expression on your face that instantly let him know you were uncomfortable.

That was it for him. He was seeing red as he threw his schoolbooks into Crabbe’s hands, pushing aggressively past a pair of boys that were in his way as he power walked towards you and your classmate.

“Didn’t you ever learn to keep your hands to yourself?” Draco called out condescendingly in his haughty accent, his scowl deepening as he approached. Trevor’s head snapped towards Draco, a frown etching itself onto his face.

“Sod off, Malfoy,” Trevor sneered. “Go find someone else to bother.”

“Take your own advice, filth,” Draco shot back.

“Filth? You’re one to talk,” the Gryffindor chortled. By now, everyone within a few feet of the debacle was watching, entertained at the argument that was beginning to unfold, your friends and Draco’s goons staring oddly at the encounter. You only stood there, looking between both boys towering over you in a daze that left you paralyzed in your spot. You were so close to telling off Trevor before Draco came, feeling grateful at your delayed reaction now that he was there defending you.

“I’m not going to ask you again,” Draco threatened, stepping in between you and Trevor as he spoke. “Leave Y/N alone, or I swear you’ll regret it.”

“Why? You think she’d pick you over me?” He snickered. “We’ll see who’s the one feeling regretful when you find her making that decision.”

By now, Trevor had stepped up to the spiteful Slytherin, getting in his face with a patronizing smile. Draco’s face twisted up in anger as his temper got worse, shoving his competition back with the side of his forearm, feeling satisfied when Trevor stumbled back.

“Funny,” he laughed darkly, “I seem to remember her already making that decision every single day while we’re snogging.”

Multiple gasps can be heard throughout the foyer, including your own as you gaped up at the blond, his eyes staying focused on Trevor as he looked taken aback.

“You trying to say she’s your girlfriend?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Your legs nearly gave out below you at his response. This was everything you had been hoping for recently, except not like this. But that still didn’t stop you from feeling giddy, however, the bliss of his revelation filling your entire body with glee. The ‘what are we?’ question being ripped from your mind with relief.

“Is that true?” Trevor asks you, a devastated look glazing over his eyes as you slowly nodded. He gives Draco one more pointed look, bumping shoulders with him before he stalked off into the Great Hall in a rush, everyone scattering around to go inside as well now that the show was over.

Draco turned to peer down at you, fury draining from his body as he admired you. He cupped your cheek, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on the opposite side of your face before whispering hotly into your ear.

“If he tries anything with you again, let me know and I swear I’ll deal with him,” he pulls back from you, smiling at you innocently. “I’ll see you later, darling.”

And with that, he sends you a wink, turning around to saunter over to his eager minions while your friends immediately rush towards you with a million questions that you would inevitably have to answer. This was not at all how you expected the day to turn out, not in the slightest.

[savvythepirate]

My Nightmare

Pairing: Hector Barbossa x OC!reader

Warnings: None

Requested by: @princessofthornsandroses

The Request:

Hey could I request my oc x barbossa same one as last time but she comforts him after he had a nightmare

***

Barbossa was one hell of a team leader, never showing any shadow of fear over anything.

Well, that was the case before he met and rescued Lora. The only thing in the world he let fear consume him, was just the thought of losing Lora and he just can’t let that happen. Lora Lee Rosaline was his one and only, he would do anything to keep her safe by his side. Wen Lora was first picked up to join the team, the whole thing was taking place during a raid and Barbossa was the one to find her locked away in a dungeon cell, looking to be on the brink of death, not to mention to be completely forgotten about.

It was as though she had been abandoned by her people and something told him she needed to be saved before her conditions worsens, before it was too late. Barbossa himself could be her only reign of rescue and last hope to be saved. Knowing he could give Lora a better life motivated him to call the everyone over to help break her out of there. He wanted to give her a better life, but he can only do so if she chooses to follow him. What really got to him was the notice of her seemingly having to eat in days and was very malnourished, and is she had gone any longer, who knows how much time she would have left. With the help of his team, they were able to bust through the cell door without having to use a key, but they stay back behind as Barbossa becomes the one to make the first approach to Lora. Before he could get any closer, she hid her face in between her knees at first, before being brave enough to look at her savior.

Lora’s eyes showed fear beyond belief, making the approach a little more challenging. He took slow steps before reaching his hand out to her, gently inviting her to come along, to leave all this for a better life.

“It’s alright, you’re with us now.”

Lora continued to look up at him, a little amount of fear still showing in her eyes before hesitantly accepting his hand. Barbossa helps her up before making the run, holding her hand as they lead the way to the Black Pearl.

It took Lora a while to adjust to her new life, as all Lora knew was hardcore mistreatment caused by her people and from her people. Barbossa was different in a way she liked, she found him to be a funny, sassy, and goofy man to ever have met, one she needed in her life. After Lora was rescued, Barbossa knew it was going to take her some time to get used to her new surroundings and to fully recover from those horrible events she was to go through forcefully. As Barbossa helps her through recovering, it was sometime during that time they both started to fall for each other and eventually, the both of them had become lovers in a new relationship.

Lora was treated like a Queen, and the crew she called family had truly becomes her family. She couldn’t as for any better then what she had now as a fresh start. Nightmares of her dark past crept within her as she sleeps the night away, the dreams were a reminder of the darkened memories she wished more then anything to forget them as if they happened in the first place. But that wasn’t possible, Lora knew that, she kept the nightmarish emotions under lock and key and didn’t plan to be open minded to talk about it to anyone, even her savior. It wasn’t long before Lora had decided to open to Barbossa as the nightmares got worse then any better. When she brought the subject up to him, he was quite surprised that she was trusting him enough to talk about these things.

He sat there, clasping his hands with hers as his way of bringing comfort to her as he listens intently to the details provided. The details were horrific, he had no idea she had gone through all that, and couldn’t help himself from pondering the question, “How can one human being do that to anther?” Especially to the most innocent of all people, people like his Lora, who carried grand potential as the people seem to be too blind to see it. As the nightmares got worse, Barbossa had the idea of moving Lora into his sleeping quarters, and that seemed to help as the nightmares got more and more less and eventually, they stopped.

But nightmares were just as contagious as yawning. Because now, they were happening to Barbossa. Lora would be awakened by Barbossa thrashing around in his his sleep like a mad man beside you as they got more intense. Sitting up, Lora reaches over to him and gently shakes his shoulder, then she starts poking him on his sides, and that was all it took. While he was actually waking up, he gasps unexpectedly causing Lora to jump in slight fright. Knowing that he might be upset with her about waking him, she quickly apologizes before letting him know the purpose of this.

“I’m sorry to wake you, hon.” She begins.

“What are you still doing up?”

“I haven’t been up this whole time, I just woke up to you having a struggle in your sleep. I must say, that was quite a dream you seemed to be having.”

“Yes. Yes it was, and that’s all I’m going to say about it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Go back to sleep now, Lora. You need the rest.”

“I can’t do that unless I know you’re really okay.”

Barbossa lets out a heavy sigh, before turning back so that he’s facing Lora rather then the wall.

“Come here.”

Before she could even move, she feels the soft touch of Barbossa’s hands gently gripping her arm and pulling her close to him, close enough so that she can bury her face in his chest as he embraces her.

This was a recent made system as a way to bring comfort to one and and the other. She could feel Barbossa starting to relax and settle down a bit after that nightmare. Rather then it being one comforting the other, it was the two pair comforting each other this time.

Just the two of them.

***

Requests: OPEN

@savvythepirate