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munson-blurbs · 2 years ago

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Chapter 2: Don't Know What You've Got Till it's Gone

Collaboration with the Dustin to my Suzie, @corroded-hellfire 💚

Series Summary: Based on the Jonas Brothers song of the same name. You and Eddie share a hospital room in the wake of Hawkins' turmoil, striking up an unlikely friendship that could lead to much more.

Chapter Summary: You and Eddie are getting closer, and his friends can't help but notice something between you two. But when you receive devastating news, the pressure of being his upbeat, optimistic Sunshine becomes too much to handle.

Warnings: eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), Eddie survives the Upside Down, hospital, mentions of surgery, description of Eddie's scars, controlled use of pain medication, angst

WC: 6.6k

Divider credit to @firefly-graphics

“Yeah, well, next time I tell you not to be a hero, you’d better listen to me.” A man’s voice stirs you from your sleep. You gently roll over onto your side and see fuzzy shadows behind the curtain that separates you and Eddie.

“Hold on, Harrington,” Eddie pushes himself up slightly, an edge to his voice. “What do you mean by next time?”

“He’s still out there,” a younger voice pipes up. “We wounded him, but—” He stops abruptly, turning his stocky frame towards the curtain. “Hey, can your roommate hear us?”

“She can!” you chirp, and utterances of shit and shut up fill the room. “Don’t worry; I won’t tell anyone about your nerdy D&D secrets.” Eddie had spent the better part of the last few days explaining the ins and outs of the game, taking far too much pride in his Dungeon Master status for a man pushing 20.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” Eddie calls out. “You decent? Want you to meet my friends.”

“Sorry, did we wake you?” A girl asks, but your view of her is obstructed by the curtain. “We have a tendency to be a little…”

“Loud?” The older of the guys offers. “Obnoxious? Grating?”

The boy shrugs. “That’s just the way we roll, man.”

“What do you mean ‘we?’” The first guy retorts.

“I’m all good, Eddie,” you say. Now that you’ve given the all clear, the older boy tugs back the curtain. You recognize him as Steve Harrington, who graduated with you last year.

“Steve,” he says, sticking out his hand for you to shake. “And, FYI, I do not play Dungeons & Dragons.”

You can’t help but let out a snort of laughter as you shake his hand and introduce yourself. “A shame. Eddie makes it seem like such fun.” At your sarcastic tone, Eddie flips you off, but you ignore him and continue. “We, uh, actually graduated together.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks, eyebrows shooting up so high they almost blend into his perfectly coiffed hair. “Huh. You think I’d remember that.”

“I mean, it’s understandable you’d forget,” you say with a shrug. “You had just lost the last basketball game of the season.”

“Ouch,” Steve says, holding a hand over his heart. “But that doesn’t excuse the four years we were in the same class.”

Wincing, you give Steve another shrug. “More like seven. We went to middle school together, too.”

“Well, shit,” Steve says, running a hand over his face. “Yeah, I was a douchebag.”

“Was?” a feminine voice chimes in. Steve rolls his eyes and turns to the side to reveal the younger guy and a girl your age that are sitting next to Eddie’s bed.

“Robin, right?” you ask. She perks up in her seat, seeming pleasantly surprised that you know her name.

“Yeah,” she says.

“You’re in band, right? I’m friends with Vickie, and I know she’s mentioned you a few times,” you explain.

“R-Really?” Robin asks, eyes widening.

“Mhmm,” you hum in confirmation, watching an unmistakable grin grow from cheek to cheek. You’ll have to follow up on that another time if you have a moment alone with her. “And you are…?” you start, turning towards the curly haired boy hoisting himself up on crutches, braces adorning his teeth.

“Dustin Henderson,” he affirms. “Artificer: Master Inventor and future Hawkins High valedictorian.” You shake his hand, giggling as the three older friends roll their eyes in unison at his introduction.

“Don’t forget ladies’ man,” Robin taunts, and Dustin hoists up two middle fingers in response, fumbling to keep the crutches secured under his arms.

“Sunshine here is a ballet dancer,” Eddie says, trying to steer the conversation away from the topic of love. You watch as Steve and Robin exchange an amused glance, with the former mouthing Sunshine and the latter just shrugging. “She does, um, pointe?” He looks at you hopefully.

You nod. “Yup! I’ll be right back at it as soon as this bad boy heals up.” You gently pat your leg, grimacing as even the lightest touch sends sharp pains down to your toes.

You talk with the group for a few more minutes, swapping gossip about people from your graduating class, until Mandy knocks on the door. “It’s time for your appointment with the surgeon,” she says politely.

“Surgeon?” Eddie asks, brows crinkling in confusion.

“Y-Yeah,” you stammer, leaning on the nurse as you maneuver into the wheelchair. “Just, um, protocol with this kind of injury. Make sure everything’s good and all that.” He seems to buy this answer, and you breathe a silent sigh of relief. “It was nice talking with you all!”

Once you’re out of the room, Dustin turns to Eddie. “So,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. “Sunshine?”

“Shut up, Henderson,” Eddie grumbles, throwing a pillow at the boy.

“Yeah, be nice to him,” Robin teases. “That nurse just took his sunshine away!”

“So, are you involved with this sunshine?” Steve asks, an amused expression written all across his face.

“No, not like that,” Eddie says, suddenly finding the hem of his scratchy blanket fascinating. “Just friends.”

“You guys get along well,” Robin says, more statement than a question.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees.

“And she’s beautiful, yeah?” Robin asks, raising her eyebrows at Eddie.

“Well, yeah,” Eddie says.

“So, what seems to be the problem?” she asks.

Eddie groans, dropping his head back against his pillow. Never mind the fact that Steve “ladies man” Harrington–an actual ladies’ man, not like Henderson–is in the room, but Eddie’s never been particularly comfortable talking about his experience—or rather lack thereof—with girls. There’s also the fact that he was literally attacked by bats from an alternate dimension, barely escaping hell with his life intact. And you’re so bright and sunny and the total opposite of what Eddie brings to the table.

“It’s just that she… I mean, I… you see, we—.”

“Oh, cut the bullshit, Munson. Stop playing games. We all see the spark,” Steve says, crossing his arms over his chest indignantly.

“There’s a spark?” Eddie asks quietly, lifting his head from the pillow and infinitesimal amount.

“I knew it!” Dustin exclaims loudly, earning an angry shush from someone passing through the hallway. “Look at the stupid grin on his face! Eddie wuvs his Sunshine!” He leans over to pinch Eddie’s cheek, but gets his hand slapped away.

“I don’t love her!” Eddie hisses. “Now, if you idiots could stop bothering me about this, and we can talk about anything else.”

“Okay, we’ll stop,” Robin agrees, but the mischievous smirk on her face says otherwise, “when you look me in the eyes and can tell me you don’t have feelings for her.”

Eddie lays back down and pulls the covers up over his head. “Goodnight and goodbye,” he mutters, despite the fact that it’s only 10 AM.

Steve yanks the covers back down, laughing when he sees his new friend scowling. “Calm down, man,” he says, sitting down on the starchy blanket, careful not to bump into Eddie. “We’re just messing with you. We’ll behave now.” He shoots Dustin and Robin a warning look, and the two grumble their apologies.

“‘S fine,” Eddie mumbles. “I’m tired anyway, so…” He lets his gaze fall to the doorway.

“Yeah, of course,” Robin says with a small smile. “We’ll visit soon.”

“Get well soon, buddy,” Dustin lowers his voice as quietly as he can—which isn’t saying much, given his normal volume. “The kids of the future are counting on more of your sadistic campaigns.”

As Eddie slips into a medicated slumber, he makes a silent prayer for sweet dreams. Your image appears in his mind, and he can’t deny the warmth it brings him.

Shit, he thinks. Those morons were right. I have a thing for Sunshine. He hopes that he’ll dream of you now that he’s admitted his crush.

No such luck.

The skies are red and gray, strange bursts of some sort of lightning fill the air. Weird shrill squeals fill the dead air. Eddie’s body is full of pain, searing and bleeding wounds making it difficult to breathe. Quick gasps leave his lips, his hands clutching at the ripped shreds of his shirt.

“Eddie! Shit!” Dustin’s voice rings around Eddie. The shorter boy is somewhere in the distance, not too far. “Steve! SOS! SOS!”

Soon, two pairs of hands are on Eddie’s body, trying to help, but only making the pain worse. He tries to steal himself against it, but it’s no use. The tears come, hot and thick as they build up in his eyes. The fear, the desperation, the pain. It’s all too much.

“Eddie?”

It’s not Steve or Dustin’s voice that Eddie hears above it all. It’s yours. But what are you doing in this God awful place? It’s the very last place that Eddie wants you.

“Eddie!”

The darkness in the sky fades, a subtle light beginning to shine through. Then, the next thing he knows, Eddie is blinking his eyes open in the bright hospital room, his face sticky with the trail of tears. He rubs at his eyes with the heels of his hands. Once his vision is cleared, he sees you being wheeled into the room in the wheelchair you were brought out in. Your face is pinched in concern and it takes Eddie a moment to realize you’re concerned for him.

“Can you wheel me over to Eddie’s bed instead? Thanks,” you say to the transporter, who does as you request. Eddie scoots over and pulls down his blankets, silently offering you the space next to him. Biting your lip, you look around as if you’re debating, before pushing yourself up onto your good leg and holding out your arms for balance. Immediately, Eddie reaches over and takes your hand so you can use him to steady yourself. Shooting him a grateful smile, you’re able to situate yourself on the edge of his bed.

The transporter looks like he doesn’t know if he should be allowing this or not, so he quickly puts his head down and leaves the room with the wheelchair. Eddie helps you get situated next to him before he pulls the blankets up over both of you.

“Another bad dream?” you ask once you’re comfortable.

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs.

“Was it as bad as the first time?”

“At first. But I heard you calling me a lot earlier this time. Got all nice and light again before I opened my eyes. How’d it go with the surgeon?”

“Oh,” you say, averting your eyes. “Nothing special. Just going over X-rays and tests and stuff, ya know?” You clear your throat, anxious to have the subject changed. “You know when you’re getting out of here?”

“Not yet,” Eddie says, sinking back against his pillows.

“What’s the first thing you’re gonna do when you get out?” you ask.

“Honestly? Get a fucking cheeseburger. This hospital food is shit. I mean, come on. What a man gotta do to get something better than gray mashed potatoes and lime Jell-O?”

“Okay,” you say with a giggle. “After you get some good food, what are you gonna do?”

“I dunno,” Eddie says with a shrug. “Haven’t really thought about it.”

“Oh, come on,” you say. “What’s Eddie Munson’s big dream? Be a big rock star? World tours? Opening for Ozzy? No—Ozzy opening for you.”

Eddie scoffs, gently nudging your shoulder with his. “Before all…this…happened, I was thinking about moving to Indianapolis after graduation. Get involved in the music scene there.”

“Indianapolis?” You wrinkle your nose. “That’s honestly super boring. You survived an earthquake and you’re only gonna go to the state capital?”

“Fine,” he whines exaggeratedly, smiling as he does it. “How about…Australia? I can be, like, a kangaroo farmer.”

“Is that even a thing?”

“It is now.” His loose, tangled curls brush up against the part of your shoulder left exposed by the pale blue hospital gown. “What about you? New York City? Maybe dance on Broadway, or be one of those…Christmas, kicking girls?”

You snort out a laugh. “A Rockette?”

“Yeah.”

“Eh,” you shrug, pushing away the thoughts of the news you’d just received from the surgeon. “New York’s nice to visit, but I need someplace warm. I’m thinking of going to California.”

“Just don’t forget about me when you’re a big Hollywood star,” Eddie teases, though there’s a hint of seriousness in his voice. “And if the movie you’re dancing in needs a band, you know who to recommend.”

“Of course. But do you really think I could get Tears for Fears to play?” His shove is a bit harder this time, making both of you groan as you laugh. “Kidding, kidding. You know Corroded Coffin will be at the top of my list. If you’re not too busy with your own gigs.”

Never too busy for my Sunshine, Eddie nearly blurts out, but he says instead, “will do.” He’s silent for a bit before asking, “Why didn’t you go to California?”

“Huh?”

“Why are you going to college in Indiana and not California?” Eddie tries again. “I mean, you said it yourself: the entertainment scene is much better there than here.” He scrunches up his nose. “Actually, why are you even in college?”

You bark out a laugh at the bluntness of his question. “Um, because that’s what people do after high school?”

“You don’t have to, though,” he quips. “Think about it, Sunshine. College will always be there, but if you wanna pursue dance, you’ve gotta do it while you’re young and, uh, limber.” His cheeks blush a delicious shade of pink.

“Yeah, well.” The truth comes tumbling out before you can stop it. “My parents didn’t think it was a good idea. Just dancing. They wanted me to go to get my degree; build a ‘solid foundation’ or whatever.” You trace invisible spirals into the blanket as you speak. “My dad told me that he could never tell his friends that I danced for a living, because they would, and I quote, ‘think that his daughter was a stripper with daddy issues.’”

Now it’s Eddie’s turn to laugh. “First of all, stripping is a noble profession, and I do not approve of any stripper slander in my home.”

“We’re not in your home,” you point out.

“I do not approve of any stripper slander in my hospital room,” he amends, flicking your forehead with his thumb and middle finger. “And, second, do not tell me that you made a decision about your future based on the opinions of your dad’s old-ass friends.” He groans when you remain quiet. “Seriously?”

“I just didn’t want to upset them,” you mumble. “The only reason they allowed me to study dance is because I’m also majoring in education. I could be a dance teacher.”

“Do you wanna be a dance teacher?”

“Someday,” you admit. “I taught some classes at my studio for the little kids, and I really liked it.” You gnaw at your lower lip.

“But?” Eddie presses, letting his thumb graze against yours.

“But it’s not what I want to do now,” you relent. “Right now, I want to go on auditions and maybe get cast in a play or a cheesy music video or a goddamn commercial and…and dance.”

Eddie gives your hand a quick squeeze before pulling back, not wanting to cross a boundary when you’re so vulnerable. “Then you’re gonna dance,” he murmurs. “We’ll get outta here and move to Cali, and you’re gonna dance.”

A month ago, the prospect of dropping out of school to dance professionally would have you downright terrified. Terrified of failure, of your parents’ inevitable disappointment, of finding out you’re not good enough. But now it only fills you with regret, because that dream became impossible with just the shifting of some rogue tectonic plates.

“Okay,” you say softly, once again wearing your hopeful façade. “Sounds like a plan.” A plan you’ll both easily forget once you’re back out in the real world, faced with the problems you’ve been shielded from within the hospital walls.

The two of you lay there talking about your futures until sleep overtakes you both. Eddie’s the first to drift off; you stay awake for a bit, consumed by echoes of today’s appointment with Dr. Sanoj. What was supposed to be a brief meeting about scheduling your surgery turned into something much more devastating. You rest your head on Eddie’s chest, only allowing yourself to unravel when you hear his soft snores. The combination of the energy expended by crying and the drowsiness from your meds allows you to sleep, still hiccuping from tears as you fall into a dreamless slumber.

Neither of you hear the soft click of crutches as Dustin hobbles back into the room. “Forgot my—son of a bitch, I knew it!” he whispers, slinging his left-behind jacket over his shoulder. “Steve and Robin are gonna lose their shit!”

The next morning, Mandy arrives with breakfast and medication. In front of each of you, she places a plate of runny scrambled eggs, fruit that is described as “fresh” but most certainly is not, and a small carton of orange juice. It’s strangely domestic, and you can’t help but imagine you and Eddie eating together in your shared home. You’re making pancakes or waffles or frittatas—anything better than the food in front of you. Eddie’s frying up bacon, wearing an apron that says Kiss the Chef, and you do, over and over and—

The rattle of your pill cup snaps you from your fantasy, and you dutifully swallow the pastel tablets with a swig of juice.

Eddie grins when Mandy gives him his meds. “Hello, beautiful,” he croons, making grabby motions with his calloused hands.

“Sorry to disappoint, Mr. Munson; no more painkillers in this batch,” Mandy says, laughing at his pout despite herself. “Dr. Franklin wants to speak with you; he’ll be making his rounds in a few minutes.”

“Oooh, Eddie’s in trooouble!” you sing-song, flashing a grin at him.

Rolling his eyes at you, Eddie downs his pills and leans back against his pillow. “Would be used to it. Was in Higgin’s office enough.”

“Oh, Eddie,” you say with a sigh. “Did you go down to the cafeteria while I was asleep and make some big dramatic speech on one of the tables? At least tell me that someone videotaped it for me.”

“You’re hilarious,” he says, tossing his empty paper cup at you. The giggle you let out has his stomach feeling tingly, and he’s sure it’s not from the medications.

There’s a knock on the open door to your room and an older man steps inside, a clipboard tucked under his arm. “Hey, Eddie. How are you feeling?”

“Better. Thanks, doc,” Eddie answers. “What’s the word?”

“Well, glad to say everything looks good. All lab results are normal and you’re healing up nicely. Of course, some injuries still have a ways to go, but there’s no reason you can’t be home for that.”

Eddie’s immediately thrilled. Finally, being able to get out of the hospital where he’s been poked and prodded and it’s impossible to get a good night’s sleep because of all the beeping equipment and nurses constantly checking on you. But as soon as the excitement came, it went. Because leaving the hospital also meant not spending most of the hours in the day by your side. No waking up to your laughter as he tells shitty jokes over your shitty breakfasts. No more saying, “I told you so” when Shelby confesses to the other twin, “I’m still in love with you” on your daily soap opera binges. No more constant sunshine.

“That’s great,” Eddie tells the doctor, his heart not behind the words. “When am I sprung?”

“Should be good to go tomorrow morning. I’m just gonna head back to my office, dot the i’s, cross the t’s, put my name on the X. You know, all that official mumbo jumbo. I’ll have Mandy get everything together. Your prescriptions, your discharge papers, and whatever else you’ll need.”

“Sounds good,” Eddie says, nails scratching at the blanket in his lap.

“Any questions for me?” The doctor asks. When Eddie shakes his head, the doctor gives him a smile and pats Eddie’s leg.

“Oh, I have one,” you say, raising your hand from where you’re tucked up in bed. “When is he cleared to shower? It’s like sharing a room with a donkey.”

The doctor lets out a small chuckle. “Eddie, you are officially cleared to take a shower. If you think of any questions, just tell Mandy. She’ll make sure I get the message.”

“Will do. Thanks.” Eddie nods his head at the man as he steps out of the room. Eddie turns his head to see you grinning at him. While it’s a beautiful sight, it now gives him a melancholy feeling.

“You’re being freed!” you call. “You can go get that cheeseburger tomorrow!”

“Should I sneak one into you?” Eddie asks, his smirk not packing its usual punch.

“Oh, please do,” you say. “God, I can practically taste it.”

“Or smell it? Like, how apparently you’re smelling me?” Eddie asks, raising an eyebrow. Part of him is a little embarrassed because the two of you were sitting so close together just last night.

“You’re not that bad,” you tell him. “I probably smell vile.”

Not a chance, Eddie thinks. “All right, well, I guess I’ll go take a shower then.” He stands up from the bed and over to the small pile of clothes Wayne had brought him the other day. Just some old t-shirts and comfortable pajama pants to sleep in, but it was still nice to have a touch of home.

Once Eddie has closed the bathroom door behind him, Mandy comes in to check your vitals.

“Heard the good news,” she says as she reads the numbers of your blood pressure. “Gonna be weird having a room to yourself? You guys have been inseparable.”

Your face heats at her words and you look down at your lap as she scribbles something into your chart. “S’fine,” you say with a shrug. Mandy looks down at you, a knowing smile on her lips.

“Uh huh,” she says as she clicks her pen. “Well, all your numbers are good. They stay this way, you’ll be headed to the operating room before you know it. Need anything?”

“No,” you say, downcast eyes on your blanket.

A bang from the en suite bathroom has both you and Mandy craning your heads in that direction.

“I’m good!” Eddie shouts. “Just dropped the shampoo!”

It makes you chuckle and Mandy shakes her head, fondly. You think she’s going to miss him, too.

“I’ll see you soon, I’m sure,” you say to Mandy as she heads out the door. Sighing to yourself, you cuddle up in your blankets and decide to have a five minute pity party. Not only are you facing multiple surgeries over the foreseeable future, but Eddie won’t be here by your side to keep your spirits up. Sure, maybe he calls you his sunshine, but you’re positive he isn’t aware of how much he brightens your days too. The water turns off in the bathroom and you quickly wipe your hands over your cheeks, trying to catch any pesky tears that may have slipped free.

The curtain in the middle of the room is opened—it’s only ever closed anymore if a doctor or nurse needs it to be for some reason. It allows you to see the bathroom door open, but before you see him, you can hear Eddie mumbling to himself.

“Man knows how to do laundry. What the hell is this? A fucking toddler shirt?” When you finally see him, your breath is caught in your chest—for two reasons. One, the teenage girl in you can’t help but respond this way to seeing the guy you have a crush on without his shirt. Two, you’d never really heard the whole story of why Eddie had to come to the hospital, and seeing the puckered and pulled flesh of his chest makes your heart ache. There’s bruising leaving purple and brown spots on top of red and pink gashes that are healing. It looks painful and searing against his otherwise pale white skin.

You know better than to stare. Obviously he’d assume you’re just staring at the scars, not admiring the small but sculpted muscles beneath them. It takes a Herculean effort to pull your gaze from his body and look down in your lap.

“Shit,” Eddie mumbles as he stomps over to his pile of clothes. He rummages through them until he finds another shirt. He’s quick in slipping it on, then turns towards your bed. Taking the few steps over in your direction, he sits down on the bottom corner of your bed. When you look up, there’s half a smile on his face as he plays with a small white cloth in his hands. “Believe it or not, this used to be a shirt that fit me.” He holds the cloth up and you see it’s a Guns N’ Roses shirt that’s been shrunk until only a child could fit into it. “My uncle must’ve shrunk it. Guess that’s payback for all the times I turned his white shirts pink because I left a pair of red boxers in the washer.”

“Led Zeppelin is better anyway,” you say, gesturing to the shirt he’s currently wearing.

“So, uh,” Eddie says, looking down at his lap and fidgeting with the too-small tee. “You saw the scars, huh?”

“I did,” you say in a quiet voice. His cheeks turn red and it breaks your heart. “No, please don’t be embarrassed, Eddie. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Shutting it again, Eddie shakes his head. “I, um… they just. They’re—what I mean…”

“Eddie, take a breath. It’s okay.” You go to reach for his hand, but you can’t bend enough due to your injured leg. Eddie shifts so he’s facing you and leans the rest of the way so you can take his hand. “There’s no scar you could have that would make me think any less of you. Plus, you haven’t seen my leg. It looks pretty gnarly.”

“Gnarly?” Eddie asks, looking up at you underneath his eyelashes, the tiniest smile on his lips.

“Yeah, I’m preparing for that California life,” you tease him. “Gotta fit in with the surfer dudes.”

Eddie laughs, shaking his head. “As soon as you get the OK, I’m booking our tickets.” He shoves the pillow out of the way and sits on top of the blanket. “I can’t afford first-class, so coach will have to do.”

“Lucky for you, I’m not a diva—yet,” you add, excited to play along with the fantasy game he has going on. “I can handle a few hours with the common folk.”

“And we thank you for gracing us with your presence.” Eddie’s eyes flit back to your leg. “When do you think you’ll be good to go?”

Dr. Sanoj told you that between surgeries and recovery, it’ll be at least six weeks, but you bite back that information. “Any day now,” you lie. “Just waiting on those discharge papers. But you know how that can be, with all the sign offs. Everyone’s gotta cross their t’s and dot their i’s.” Good God, shut up, you think.

“Cool,” Eddie nods. He looks deep in thought, tongue poking out in concentration. “Yeah, all right. I can make it work.”

You smile, rolling your eyes playfully at his commitment to the bit. Your pain meds start to kick in, and you drift off into a hazy sleep.

While you’re passed out, there’s a soft knock on the door.

“Oh, she’s asleep,” Eddie hears a woman’s voice softly murmur. There’s a slight creak as she sits in the chair next to your bed. “My sweet girl. Mom’s here.”

Your mom. Eddie uses his elbows to push himself up, pulling the curtain back a few inches.

“Um, hi,” he says, not realizing how nervous he is until he actually starts talking. “Are you Sunshine’s mom?”

The woman’s brow crinkles. “Sunshine?”

Eddie’s cheeks tinge pink. “Yeah, I, uh, I call her Sunshine,” he stammers, nodding in your direction.

“Then, yes, I’m Sunshine’s mom.”

“She, um, she’s—I call her Sunshine because she brightens up my day. Probably the only person in this building who doesn’t hate my guts, let alone like me.” He wants to stop talking, but he can’t. “I have these nightmares, y’know? From the, uh, earthquake thing. And she always pulls me outta them. I don’t know what I’m gonna do when I go home tomorrow.”

Your mom gives Eddie a sympathetic smile, gently stroking your hand, minding the needle poking into it. “Well, she’s always telling me how much you make her laugh. Lord knows she could use some happiness in her life.” She sighs. “I just hope her new roommate is as kind as you.”

“At least she’s getting outta here soon,” Eddie offers, “so even if she has a shi—bad roommate, it won’t be for long.”

“Six weeks isn’t exactly ‘soon,’” your mom says. Her gaze doesn’t leave your face, so peaceful in your sleep.

“Wait, six weeks?” Eddie nearly chokes on his own tongue in surprise. “No, she told me that the doctor should clear her in the next coupla days.”

Your mom shakes her head. “She’s got three surgeries to fix that broken femur, plus recovery time. The reason it’s only six weeks is because she’s young and healthy.”

Eddie feels like he’s been punched in the stomach. Why would you lie to him? Get him pumped up about the prospect of moving to California, living out your dreams together, for it to all be bullshit?

Tears prick at his eyes. Maybe this was all just a joke, a stupid prank on your part. Make the Freak think that someone actually cared about him, laughing behind his back the whole time.

Maybe it’s best that he’s leaving tomorrow. Then he won’t have to listen to you drag him along for your own sick entertainment.

You wake up around dinnertime, stretching your limbs as much as your limited mobility allows. It’s a far cry from your usual limber exercises, but it’s enough to get the blood flowing through your body.

An episode of Wheel of Fortune plays from the TV in the corner, but it’s blocked by the curtain. Eddie probably closed it while I slept, you think. That’s pretty much the only time you two keep the room divided; every now and then, you forget and wake up to the sight of Eddie Munson sleeping next to you.

“Eds? You awake?”

“Yup,” is his terse reply, with no enthusiasm behind it.

You open the curtain with a grin. “Are you grumpy because your novelas aren’t on?”

“Nope.” He keeps his arms crossed over his chest, left ankle draped over his right.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, frowning. “Did something happen while I was sleeping?”

“Yeah, actually.” Eddie finally allows his gaze to meet yours. His usual friendly doe eyes are clouded with anger. “Your mom stopped by.”

Your eyebrows pinch together in confusion. “Did she say something that upset you? I told her that all the murderer stuff wasn’t true, and she believed me—believed you.”

“Actually, we talked a bit about you.” The acid in his tone is enough to burn.

“What about me?” you ask, only becoming further confused by this conversation.

Eddie huffs out a humorless chuckle and licks his tongue across his teeth. “Really thought you had me, didn’t you? Think you could pretend to be all buddy buddy with me just to mess with me? Get in my head?”

“What? Who’s in your head?” Part of you wonders if this is all some medicine-induced stress dream. “Eddie.” You push yourself up as best you can, leg aching and body suffering from general soreness from being cramped in the bed for so long. “What are you talking about? What did my mom say to you?”

This time when his eyes cut to you, there’s more than anger there. There’s fury, pain. The sight makes your heart ache, and the fact that this look is directed at you is making your head spin.

“Just a couple of days, huh?” Eddie pushes himself to the edge of his bed so his legs hang off the side. His glare burns your skin and you feel yourself wanting to shrink down and out of sight. “That’s how long til the doctor will clear ya?”

Part of the puzzle of why Eddie was mad was starting to kick into place. Shit, you think. Mom must’ve said something about the surgeries.

“Eddie, I—.”

“Lied? Yeah, you did. But what’s that matter when you’re lying to The Freak?”

Guilt gives way to anger in your gut as he throws this accusation at you. Not once, whether in high school with him or after, did you think of Eddie as a freak. You’ve never agreed with those who called him names and treated him as lesser than.

“I didn’t lie to you because I think you're a freak, Eddie.” It comes out strangled between all the emotions vying to be expressed through your voice.

“You sure about that?” Eddie narrows his eyes at you, and it’s hard to see a trace of the laughing and smiling Eddie you’ve become so close with.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you grit out. “I lied becau—.”

“Well, what possible other motive could there have been?” Eddie questions. His hands are gripping the sheets beneath him, his knuckles turning almost as white as the linens.

“If you would just listen to me!”

“So you can lie some more?” Eddie scoffs and shakes his head. “Well, screw California.”

Confusion is suddenly back in your mixture of emotions. California? Why bring up that joke now? Unless…

“Wait,” you say, holding up a hand. “You were actually serious about going to California?”

“What?” he practically barks out. “You weren’t?”

“Eddie, I thought that was a joke,” you say with a disbelieving laugh. “Some made up fantasy to get us through spending all our time in these four plain-as-fuck walls.”

“Of course you weren’t really going to do that with me,” Eddie says, a sneer curling his lip.

“Because I didn’t know it was real!” you try to explain.

Eddie throws up his arms, grimacing as it tugs on his stitches. “Why wouldn’t it be real? Is me having a future that unbelievable?”

“What the hell are you on?” you hiss. “Eddie, you need to finish high school. And I need to get my bachelor’s degree. We can’t just be fucking off to California like it’s no big deal!”

Eddie bites his thumbnail before responding. “Let me get this straight. We narrowly escape death during this…earthquake…and you wanna just go back to our normal lives? Like we weren’t given a second chance to live?” He’s pacing around the room now. “My neighbor? Max Mayfield? Harrington told me that she’s blind now. She’s fucking blind and in a full body cast!”

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, but he continues frantically walking back and forth without acknowledging you.

“And Jason Carver. Jason fucking Carver! I hated that son of a bitch, and now he’s dead. All those times he was a piece of shit to me and I wished something would happen to him, and now it did.”

“That’s not your fault,” you try. “You didn’t cause the earthquake.”

Eddie shakes his head. “That’s all I thought about: death and sadness. And then I met you.” His eyes are shiny with tears. “Someone who liked spending time with me, who believed in me, who had these crazy dreams just like I did. A…a friend.” He wipes at his face clumsily, embarrassed to be crying. “But you’re just like the rest of them, huh?”

“That’s not fair—”

“Y’know what’s real fuckin’ funny?” Eddie smacks his hand on his bedside table. “The other day, Harrington said that we—you and I—had some kinda ‘spark’ between us.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Guess he’s just as full of shit as you are, Sunshine.” When he says the nickname now, it’s full of venom; there’s no trace of the sweet, goofy guy you’ve gotten to know.

“Eddie, if you would just let me—” But yet again, Eddie doesn’t let you attempt to explain any of the situation. The fact that a part of you somewhere deep inside is fluttery because Steve saw a spark between you and Eddie is something you have to put away to examine at a better time.

“Good luck with your surgery,” Eddie says. “Too bad the doctors can’t cure bitch.”

It feels like a punch to the gut, the air being knocked out of you. Your mouth opens and your lips move, but no sound comes out. There’s a crack in your heart, but it quickly feels like it’s been soldered closed with the anger bubbling up inside of you. Your lungs reinflate, the blood pumps heavily through your veins, and your fists clench where they rest in your lap. The urge to lash out is strong. And at this moment, you’re so very weak.

“You know what, Eddie? Fuck you. And hey, good luck getting to California with those murder charges on your record.” The moment the words tumble out of your mouth you wish you could take them back. Eddie stepped over the line, but you ran right past him. “Shit, I didn’t—.”

Suddenly you’re not looking at Eddie anymore. He’s pulled the curtain closed, the last glimpse you get of him is a raging fury in his eyes. And you can hardly blame him. The only thing that stares back at you is the gauzy white curtain still swaying from the forceful yank.

“Eddie…” The television volume gets turned up to an ungodly volume, making you cover your ears and impossible to have a conversation over.

You spend the rest of the night with your ear pressed to the pillow in an attempt to drown out the baseball game he’s watching. Given his penchant for yelling about the absurdity of sports, you doubt he’s even paying attention to it, but the broadcasters’ monologues about fastballs and strikes curtails any attempt to speak to him. You barely touch your dinner, and Mandy tuts at you worriedly, but you insist you feel fine.

In reality, you feel nauseated. You said a horrible thing to a wonderful person, and you really hurt his feelings.

Maybe we can talk it through in the morning, you think, trying not to get your hopes up. Maybe we can apologize and move on.

When you wake up the next morning, his bed has been slept in, left unmade while he’s probably in the bathroom. The curtain is pulled back; an excellent sign that he’s ready to hear your apology, and possibly forgive you. As soon as he comes back, you’ll give it a shot.

“Gonna be quiet around here for a bit without your buddy, huh?” Mandy says from the doorway. She walks over to Eddie’s bed and starts stripping the sheets. “You get to say goodbye?”

“Not yet,” you admit. “I’ll have to catch him before he leaves.”

Mandy’s brows furrow in confusion. “Honey, his uncle came and got him an hour ago.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “He didn’t tell you?”

All you can do is shake your head.

“Probably didn’t wanna wake you. I’m sure he’ll stop by and visit.” Mandy curls the sheets into a ball and tucks them under her arm. “I’ll be back with breakfast and meds.”

As soon as she’s gone, you burst into tears. Eddie left without saying goodbye. He left thinking you don’t care about him or believe in him. He left without his Sunshine.

taglist: @thebrookemunson, @mystars123, @h-ness1944, @hazydespair, @ajkamins, @aysheashea, @jasminelafleur, @brittney69, @arsonfrogger, @brassreign, @lunarzstarz, @aftermidnightwriting, @justtryingtobecreative, @micheledawn1975, @kailynn-exe

#albl #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things

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jaxteller87 · 6 months ago

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You Belong to Me

Laying in the middle of the bed in my dorm room, I whispered, nuzzling Amber’s neck as we lay on our sides. “You comfortable, darlin’?”

“I am. Are you?” she asked as I slid inside her. I nodded, biting down gently on my lower lip as I slowly pushed in a little deeper.

“Good,” she responded gently. “Fuck me, big papa.” I could hear her grunt under her breath with each thrust.

“Such a naughty little beauty,” I smirked. Amber closed her eyes and tilted her head back, inviting me to bite her neck playfully. She moaned as I worked my way up to her mouth. I gently grabbed her face and kissed her supple, pink lips.

“I’m yours, darlin’. Always will be,” she moaned into my ear while I moved back down her neck. Amber grabbed a fistful of my hair and passionately kissed me again. I pushed my manhood deeper inside her, and she pushed her tongue into my mouth. The heavy panting and initially somewhat quiet encounter soon switched over to loud screaming and the sound of my bedpost banging off the walls. By the time I was done with Amber, anyone who walked down the hall past this room would know who I belonged to.

Lately, the croweaters have been over the top. Why? Your guess was as good as mine. It wasn’t untypical of them to try and link up with a spoken-for brother, but generally, you could just wave them off, and that’d be that, at least for a few months. This time, it almost seemed like they had made some secret bet amongst themselves on who could get under my sheets the fastest. Twice in the past week, I came down to the clubhouse to find not one but two naked croweaters in my door room. They played it off like they had just ended up there together, exploring their sexualities, but neither of them seemed surprised to see me, and they promptly invited me to join. A few years back, I would have, but being loyal to Amber was important to me. More important than the Club even. Regardless, when this uprising of sex-depraved croweaters happened, I’d decided to take Amber into the dorm any chance I had and give her the what for. Hell, one night, I took her to the bathroom and fucked her on the counter while a bunch of those crows were doing their makeup. In a total powerplay move, I saw Amber’s reflection in the mirror— locking eyes with Ima as I came inside her. When Ima tried to leave, I scooped Amber off the counter and put my back against the door, putting a few more pumps inside her right in front of the dick-starved crow.

Last night was amazing, as usual. When the morning sun shining through the window woke me up, Amber was still nestled in my arms, sleeping. I carefully crawled out of bed, careful not to disturb her. I yawned, looking out the window, and then turned to stare at my sleeping wife. I couldn’t help but smile. I never thought I’d be the type of person to watch a woman sleep. But as I did, one thing was clear to me: I was one lucky son of a bitch. I put my sweats on and headed out to the clubhouse to start a pot of coffee. I damn near broke my ankle trying to get behind the bar. Once I opened the shades, I noticed the chaos from the night before still sprawled out all over the place. Shaking my head with a smile, I saw all the liquor bottles and people passed out everywhere. Bobby was sitting in the corner with a naked twenty-something-year-old passed out across his lap.

“Good night?” I asked.

“Don’t you know it,” he not so gently pushed her onto the floor. She hit with a thud but continued to sleep. Bobby took the throw blanket off the back of the chair and covered her up. “Sounds like you and Amber were having a hell of a good time as well.”

“Aye,” Chibs raised his head from the bar, “big papa, was it?”

I laughed and poured myself a cup of coffee. “That’s Vice President Big Papa to you,” I joked. With two cups in hand, I headed down the hall to find my wife waking up, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

“Not too bad, Teller,” she chuckled, seeing only one hickey on her chest.

“Then don’t look at your thighs,” I grinned, handing her a cup.

She looked down between her legs and shook her head. “Oh, Teller…”

“I mean, I could make more marks,” I offered.

“I know you could. But this’ll do for now. Thank you,” she smiled.

“Oh, come on,” I teased as we snuggled up with our coffee. “I don’t have anywhere to be today.”

“Even if you did…” Amber began.

“Even if I did, you would take precedence,” I kissed her forehead.

“How about a date?” She asked. By the way she said it, I instantly knew it was something she had been dwelling on for a while.

So, we spent the day out by the lake fishing, one of our favorite pastimes besides riding my bike, of course. Later that evening, we returned home, slightly sunburnt but otherwise in high spirits.

“Here’s some banana bread Bobby gave us. I told him the last time he made it how much we both liked it for something quick in the morning,” I sliced us each a small piece to eat before we retreated to the couch to watch a movie.

Later, we snuggled up, panting in each other’s arms as we moved in a sweet rhythmic motion. Becoming one with each other. “Yes, that’s it, papa. Show me I’m yours,” she cooed as I moved a little faster and pushed a little harder.

After another mind-blowing sexual encounter with my wife, I looked over at Amber, who was smiling with tears streaming down her face. The crying orgasms didn’t happen very often, but when they did, I kicked the aftercare up a notch. “Are you okay?” I asked.

“I promise I’m okay,” she chuckled. “It’s just a lot.”

“I know,” I smiled. “I’m so happy you’re mine, Amber,” nuzzling her neck and nipping at it a bit.

Once she was ready, I got a drink of cold tea and a snack for her.

“What have I told you? You don’t have to be embarrassed; just tell me I really did my job,” I chuckled, holding her close again.

She just smiled, giving my beard a loving scratch. “I’m so glad I get to call you mine, Teller,” she smiled.

#jax teller fanfiction #jax teller fluff #jax teller x disabled reader #jax teller smut

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countrymusiclover · 8 months ago

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8 - The Truth of Jaime Lannister

Part 9

The Last Velaryon

Tag list @rise-my-angel @cdragons

Soft knocking on my chamber door woke me up from my peaceful sleep. Shifting myself up from the pillows I brushed my hair out of my face. “Who’s visiting me in the middle of the night?” Tossing the covers aside I climbed out of the bed.

Creaking open the door I peaked my head through the doorway seeing it was Antler standing in the hallway. “Haelsa, I apologize for the late visit. But it’s Chezney.”

“Chezney. What’s wrong with her?” I asked instantly, feeling nervous.

Antler simply answered my question. “I’d grab some shoes and a robe. It’s better to show you.”

Scrambling around my room I grabbed a blue cloak and some slippers following on the heels of my father’s most trusted guard. We swept through the castle hallways until we reached her chambers door and I burst inside not bothering with knocking. “Chez! What happened?”

“Hael! I need your help.” She cried from the corner of the room holding onto a pot. She throws up in the pot hair getting in her mouth until I came over to help.

Holding her hair out of her face I asked even though I had a guess of what was happening to her. “You’re pregnant aren’t you?”

Her and Antler were both extremely close friends of mine and by some crazy miracle they ended up falling in love with the other. A lays in waiting and a top officer of the guard, what could possibly go wrong. “Haelesa, you can’t tell your father please. Pretty please he will likely execute Antler for this.” Chezney slides around on her knees grasping the fabric of my nightgown in her hands.

“Chezney could be sent out of the castle too. Including her mother too.” Antler added on ,standing guard by the door in case someone else can enter.

Intertwining my hands with hers I lowered myself down on my knees to be level with her. “I would never do such a thing and do you both to the fate of death or banishment. We are best friends after all.”

“Thank you, Haelesa.” She threw her head against my chest and I held her against me. Burying my face into her hair I sighed heavily in relief. The three of us in that moment were horrified by others knowing, unfortunately she lost the baby in the span of only two months. But I kept my promise that I would always guard her secrets and she would mine.

Pushing the tent flaps away with my hands I saw that Chezney was leaning against the wooden post that was one of the support beams of the tent. She had her hair tied up in a crown pattern, wearing a simple blue gown with some brown boots. “Are you ever going to let the young wolf see you in a gown?”

“We have been transported from one war camp to another. Dresses aren’t suitable for that environment. Therefore when Robb or Jaime wins the war then and only then shall I wear a ridiculous gown.”

Chezney tilted her head to the side, she clasped her hands together. “So are you ever going to tell him what you wrote in your letter to Joella?”

“You mean the letter that you were supposed to send before we left?” I snapped thinking she had sent it out the morning before we had left Kings Landing with a band of men and Lannister flags.

She shrugs her shoulders in response. “I was simply thinking it would be a conversation starter.”

“Chezney Ally, I swore to keep your secret years ago and you swore the same to me. The contents of that letter or any future letters to Joella are meant to remain privately between us.”

My best friend gestures her head in a different direction causing me to follow her gaze and see that the young wolf was striding over to us. “Well you better think of something to say to him if you won’t tell him your feelings.”

“Robb.” I curtseye when he had finally reached us.

He shakes his head waving his hand up for me to rise. “There's no need for that. Uh Halesea I was wondering if you have time of course.”

“She does have time!” Chezney piped in before I could get a word out.

He sent me a bright smile back. “Thank you, Chezney. Shall we, Lady Haelesa?”

“We shall.” I held out my hand and he held onto his own intertwining our hands together as one. We began walking away from my best friend and off throughout the war camp.

We hadn’t been alone like this since the morning we went horse riding to the Godswood Tree. Scanning the area around us we were on the edge and outside of the camp so that others weren’t watching us. “I have been meaning to ask why did this all start between you and the Lannisters. I mean I didn’t hear much of Sansa and Arya. But Sansa seems excited to marry the young prince.”

“The Kingslayer has been keeping you in the dark?” Robb knits his brows at me.

It took me a second to know who he was talking about since I had only ever referred to him as Jaime. “You’re talking about Jaime Lannister?”

“Yes.” Robb answers with a stern voice. “My father and sisters rode South when he was to be Hand of the King. A few weeks ago something happened and now Jofferey Baratheon sits on the throne.”

“Meaning Robert is dead. How is that a problem for you?”

Robb turned to face me. “He put my father in chains and is holding him prisoner.”

“I'm sorry.”

“I'm riding South with my father's bannermen to free him. But lately I just…I want to know why.” He slumped his shoulders.

I quickly answered. “I could ask Jaime - uh the Kingslayer - to see if he knows anything.”

“What makes you think he'll tell you anything?”

I shrugged my shoulders making a good point. “Because he's not the man that everyone thinks he is.”

“How did that happen?” Robb raised a brow towards me.

I responded to the wolf. “Because he told me when we were alone in his chambers a few months ago.”

Knocking on Jaime’s chambers door I waited outside until he to my shock actually opened the door for me. His green eyes focused onto mine and he was in a red tunic and trousers. “Velaryon girl, what are you doing here so late?”

“I need to talk with you and this appears to be the only way I can do it.” I explained to the lord who just silently stared at me. He eventually moved aside letting me inside his chamber and I stepped inside with him shutting the door behind me.

Jaime stands at the end of the bed asking me a simple question. “So what do you so desperately need to talk with me about in the middle of the night, Little Velaryon?”

“I’ve heard the whispers and some gossip about the nickname Kingslayer everyone gives you. I wish to know why, why do they call you that?”

He replied simply. “Because I killed what history calls The Mad King.”

“Yes I suppose I understand the reason behind the name. But…but why did you kill him?”

The Lannister lion clicked his tongue. “You want to know my side of the story?”

“Yes I do. So tell me your side of the story. The whole truth please.” I rounded to the table drawing out the chair. Crossing my arms over one another and my chin resting upon them.

Jaime sat down on the end of his bed, running his fingers through his blonde hair sucking in a sharp breath before he began explaining his side of the story. “Wildfire….The Mad King was obsessed with it. He loved to watch people burn, the way their skin blackened and blistered and melted off their bones. He burned lords he didn't like. He burned Hands who disobeyed him. He burned anyone who was against him. Before long, half the country was against him. Aerys saw traitors everywhere. So he had his pyromancer place caches of wildfire all over the city ... beneath the Sept of Baelor and the slums of Flea Bottom. Under houses, stables, taverns. Even beneath the Red Keep itself. Finally, the day of reckoning came. Robert Baratheon marched on the capital after his victory at the Trident. But my father arrived first with the whole Lannister army at his back, promising to defend the city against the rebels. I knew my father better than that.”

“What happened next?”

Jaime continued the story. “He's never been one to pick the losing side. I told the Mad King as much. I urged him to surrender peacefully. But the king didn't listen to me. He didn't listen to Varys who tried to warn him. But he did listen to Grand Maester Pycelle, that grey, sunken cunt. "You can trust the Lannisters," he said. "The Lannisters have always been true friends of the crown." So we opened the gates and my father sacked the city. Once again, I came to the king, begging him to surrender. He told me to... bring him my father's head. Then he... turned to his pyromancer. "Burn them all," he said. "Burn them in their homes. “Burn them in their beds."

“What’s that look for?” I questioned seeing him silently looking at me now when I could feel he had more to say with his story of how he killed the Mad King.

His eyes softened when pouring their attention into mine. “Tell me, if your precious King commanded you to kill your own father and stand by while thousands of men, women, and children burned alive, would you have done it? “

“I….I can’t say that I would let it go on.” I was at a loss for words. Imagining that all those dead bodies must say on his shoulders, along with everyone saying he had broken the oath he had taken.

“First, I killed the pyromancer. And then when the king turned to flee, I drove my sword into his back. "Burn them all," he kept saying. "Burn them all." I don't think he expected to die. He ... he meant to... burn with the rest of us and rise again, reborn as a dragon to turn his enemies to ash. I slit his throat to make sure that didn't happen.” He sighed heavily letting silence fill out the room, asking me the next question. “What do I get to know about you?”

Getting up from the chair I stride over finding a spot next to him on the bed. Jaime and I shift our heads in one direction to stare at the other. “For this marriage to work you need to know I will never be this obedient wife. I am the lady of the fierce sea and the heir to the Velaryon household.”

“I know you’re aware I didn’t want this marriage either. But it’s possible for us to learn from each other on how we can both get what we want.” He responded.

Reaching down I looped my hand in his right hand. “If you’ll help me see the world then I’ll make sure the world knows the real story. The real story of the Kingsguard soldier named Jaime Lannister. You won’t be forgotten by House Velaryon.” Jaime silently stared at me and from that moment on I would keep my word to the former knight.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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danaduchy · 1 year ago

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Daylen Amell groaned, rubbing his eyes as the pounding in his head throbbed in sync with the sunlight streaming through the window. His gaze drifted to the door, where Aedan Cousland stood, arms crossed, his usual composed demeanor a sharp contrast to Daylen’s state of disarray.

"It's almost noon. We should be on the road already," Aedan said, his tone firm, a touch of irritation behind the calm exterior.

Right. They had things to do—important things. Cure to find. People to save.

Daylen sighed, sitting up slowly. The blanket barely covered his lower half as he stretched, feeling the soreness from last night’s escapades—though in a good way. The girl he had spent the night with had left before dawn, leaving only a few scratches on his chest as a reminder of their… energetic night.

He yawned and got out of bed with little care for modesty, moving toward his clothes that were scattered across the floor. Daylen didn’t bother to cover himself as he stood naked in the center of the room, rummaging for his tunic. There wasn’t much to be shy about, after all. He had nothing to hide. His lean, muscular frame had earned him plenty of admiration over the years, and if Aedan had a problem with it, he hadn’t said a word in all the time they’d traveled together.

As Daylen bent down to retrieve his trousers, Aedan’s gaze lingered for a brief moment before flicking back to his face, though his expression remained unchanged. He leaned casually against the doorframe, looking unimpressed—bored even. His steel-blue eyes scanned the room, taking in the mess with mild distaste.

"Had a fun night?" Aedan asked, his voice edged with amusement as he arched a brow. The corner of his mouth twitched, just enough to show that he was teasing.

Daylen, still shaking off the remnants of sleep, grunted in response. His voice came out rough, barely more than a growl. Talking before noon was always a chore.

Chuckling, Aedan pushed off the door and walked further into the room, boots thudding softly against the wooden floor. "You’re lucky we’re not in the middle of some darkspawn-infested cave. Taking your time like this would’ve gotten you killed," he remarked dryly, though there was no real reprimand in his tone.

Daylen didn’t dignify the comment with an answer. He yanked on his trousers and began fastening his belt. His mind, still groggy, began to catch up with the day ahead of them. Cures. Tainted blood. Blight. They had so much to do, and the weight of it started pressing down on him as soon as he was fully awake. The playful tone of the morning began to fade.

"Where to first?" Daylen asked, finally dressed and running a hand through his tousled dark hair. His mind was already working through their plans, trying to remember which road they were supposed to take. There was a meeting with someone, an herbalist or maybe a mage. Honestly, he’d lost track of all the names.

"The healer’s house, up near the western edge of the forest," Aedan reminded him, already securing his own sword belt and preparing for the journey ahead. He paused and glanced over at Daylen, giving him a long look. "Try not to charm half the village this time. We actually need information, not more distractions."

Daylen grinned, pulling on his boots. "No promises," he said, his voice still hoarse but playful now. "But it was your idea to make me the face of our little operation, wasn’t it? Can’t blame me if I use my strengths."

Aedan rolled his eyes but smirked, shaking his head as he headed for the door. "Just be ready in five minutes. We’ve wasted enough time already."

Daylen finished dressing quickly, fastening his clothes with a practiced hand before grabbing his sword. As he joined Aedan by the door, he shot his companion a mischievous look. "You know, you could learn a thing or two from me about letting loose. You’re wound tighter than a Chantry sister during a sermon."

Aedan gave him a flat look. "I’d rather focus on staying alive than indulging in distractions, thanks."

"Suit yourself," Daylen replied, following Aedan out of the room and into the bright afternoon sun. He squinted as the light hit his eyes, a slight frown forming as he adjusted to the outside world. As much as he enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh, he knew Aedan was right—there were far more important things ahead. The Blight didn’t care if he had a fun night or not. It was still out there, festering, spreading. And it was their job to stop it.

The two of them walked side by side, down the worn path leading away from the village, their banter falling into a comfortable rhythm as they set off once again to face the darkness together.

#headcanons #amell #cousland #dragon age #origins #wardens

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giant-robot-catgirl · 3 months ago

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Midnight Snack

CW: NSFW, size difference, willing vore, implied digestion and reformation, anthro prey, monster/robot pred

"You're woken up late at night by your partner, who wants to spend some time with you. Eventually, you get hungry."

...

“Am? Are you awake?”

You are now, at least. A bit groggy, you rouse from slumber and stretch your stiff limbs - four of them, feline in nature, but only partially organic. Your long, black tail sweeps across the rug and curls around the anthro sparklewolf on the floor next to you. Already purring at her presence, you pull her closer with an enormous paw and give her forehead a few affectionate licks, causing the fluffy, multicolored fur there to stick up at awkward angles. She feigns disgust, giving your foreleg a playful shove that doesn't budge it by an inch.

“No,” you reply pleasantly, and Floof sticks her tongue out at you before pressing on.

“Anyway, um, can I sleep here with you tonight? I can't really get comfy in bed, and I thought it'd be nice to spend some time together,” she explains. Your answer is almost immediate, and probably would have been if you weren't so drowsy.

“Of course.”

You pull her in closer, and her tail begins to wag as she snuggles up to your chest. She's much, much smaller than your enormous quadruped body, even though most average folks would consider her to be quite tall. Her six-foot-eight stature hardly would have reached your sternum if both of you were standing: You’re the size of a fire engine - and likely just as heavy as one. This never stopped Floof from treating you like an oversized and spoiled house cat, though, which wasn't really inaccurate. She presses her muzzle into your dark mane and enthusiastically rubs against your neck, where your throat vibrates with the intensity of your purrs. You bend to give her another swipe with your tongue, and the sweet scents of sugar and coconut cream wafts from her pristine, mostly-white fur up to your nose. Your nostrils flare as you breathe in deeply, smelling her, tasting her, and the two of you stiffen as your twin pair of stomachs rumble within you loudly enough for both you and Floof to hear. She buries her face into your oil-slick-black coat, but the increased speed of her wagging tells you that she was thinking the same thing as you. You glance down at her through your fringe and see that she’s twirling a tuft of your hair between her paw-beans shyly.

“You… sound hungry,” she remarks, her voice uncharacteristically soft. You nod in agreement, feeling the familiar post-nap peckishness you always felt as a hollow ache in your guts. “As usual.” Your paw cinches her tighter to your body, and you feel her squirming excitedly in your grasp. “When am I ever not hungry?” You flash her a grin that’s filled with gleaming metal teeth. As expected, she only wags faster at this, her curly tail going in circles behind her. She’s so easy to rile up every time, even though the two of you have done this dozens of times by now.

“Good point…”

You push your face against her middle and mouth teasingly at the pink tank top that barely fits over her bust, tugging on it gently with those gigantic, pointed teeth. Her breaths quicken immediately.

“You know,” you begin, crooning into her perked-up ears. She shivered with anticipation, knowing the two of you were too eager tonight to take this slow. “You could always help with that…”

As if on cue, your stomachs roar with hunger once more. Floof’s entire body wiggles with her wagging, now. Breathless, she nods and gives you a thumbs up. You chuckle fondly in response. It's undeniable how infectious her eagerness is - she practically radiates with enthusiasm at this point - and for a moment, you almost wish you could shine in the way that she did. She was the sun to your moon, a rainbow across a cloudy sky.

“I’d love to.”

Another expected response, but appreciated nonetheless. You take this as permission to press on, and it requires very little effort to slip her top off and then her pajama shorts. It certainly helps that she was practically ripping her clothes off in an attempt to speed things along. She’d never been very patient, and it was a virtue you intended to help teach her, but for now, you were happy to go along with it. This eventually leaves her in nothing more than her collar and some frilly underwear, her abundance of soft fluff covering her chest with natural modesty. You debate on asking her to take her remaining articles off as well, but ultimately decide that it doesn’t matter - this is your shared headspace, after all, and the only real things here were you and her. That, and part of you secretly loves to belch up her collar after all is said and done. Maybe it isn’t that much of a secret, but you know Floof wouldn’t mind. You take another few seconds to admire her, drinking in her supple, generous curves and fairly muscular build. She's a bit chubby as well, and her tummy just barely spills over the waistband of her briefs.

“Excellent,” you purr. Your rough, glossy tongue darts out from between your lips and licks her again, and her taste is irresistibly sweet and refreshing. “Do you have a preference on going down head or feet-first?”

She's staring at your mouth while she responds.

“Um… head-first sounds nice today.”

That works for you just fine. Your jaws slowly part, revealing the slick, midnight-dark interior of your maw. Your tongue writhes, shimmering with saliva, and your breath is humid and hot against her. She reaches up and places her fore-paw against your tongue. You lap and suck on it, tugging gently as you try to pull her inside. She giggles in response.

“So eager,” she teased.

“I can't help it. I'm starving, and you're delicious.”

She places her other hand into your mouth, and you close your lips around her wrists. She hasn't stopped wagging, and likely wouldn't for a while. She pushes against your mouth, trying to force her way in, and you smirk around her limbs.

“Now who's eager?” you ask her. She flushes a rosy pink and averts her gaze, though it's still obvious how desperate for you she is. You nibble on her wrists teasingly, applying the perfect amount of pressure to elicit an adorable little squeal from her. Your belly rumbles impatiently, but you try to ignore it for now, your eyes fixed on your partner and prey before you.

“Be honest,” you insist. “Tell me how much you want this.”

You can practically hear her heart racing. After a moment, she eventually swallows and nods.

“Am,” she breathes, her tone almost pleading. “I… I want you to eat me. I want in.”

You wanted that too, of course. Your entire body ached for her presence inside of it. Your first stomach growls invitingly, and she redoubles her efforts and squeezes her muzzle past your lips. You open your jaws just enough for her head and neck to enter, but hold them in place, taunting her as she attempts to clear her broad shoulders. You shiver at the sensation, appreciating just how badly she wants inside of you, your teeth combing through her fur with her motions. Her little frustrated huffs are kind of cute.

Finally, you grow too hungry to continue your little game. With an abrupt motion, you open wide and engulf her up to her waist. Floof tumbles onto your tongue, the sudden lack of resistance throwing her off-balance. You gnaw on her pudgy tummy with a practiced gentleness, and she squeaks ticklishly each time your polished incisors graze her sensitive skin. With little effort, you scoop her up into your maw, balancing her on your tongue as you lift your head into the air, and she instinctively goes limp in your grasp - she knows how much easier she is to swallow when she stays still. Slowly, you tip your head back, and she begins to slide towards your throat. You pause, listening for any final objections, and when you hear none, you gulp her down.

Immediately, Floof begins to slip down the slick tube of your throat, and though you can tell she's trying very hard not to, she can't help but squirm. You raise your paw to your long neck and swallow again, forcing the wiggling bulge in your esophagus to descend towards your first stomach. You trace her shape all the way down to your collarbone, where she finally disappears into you, though you feel her wide hips momentarily wedge themselves in your esophageal sphincter. Maybe she's been gaining faster than you originally thought. Your tail twitches with amusement at this, and for a few seconds, you savor the sensation of your darling prey trying to squeeze into your guts as if it was all that matters to her.

Another loud, thick gulp finally does the trick. Groaning with satisfaction, you can feel her weight sink into your gut, feel her paws pushing experimentally on the wrinkled, muscular walls. She finally allows herself to really move again, and begins to rub herself against every inch of your stomach that she could reach. You flop over onto your side, and she slides around with an audible squelching before righting herself.

“Ahh… Wonderful,” you say, mostly to yourself. Your paw caresses your swollen belly, now full of excitable sparklewolfgirl. She really is quite filling for an after-nap snack, though you could always go for more food. The sound of your purring is almost louder than the workings of your stomach as you make yourself comfortable, and Floof soon follows suit. There truly was no better feeling in the world than having a beloved preything settling in your stomach, stretching out your insides, and clearly you weren't the only one enjoying this, either. You could even feel her tail still spinning like a propeller. The hunger you'd felt earlier had melted away, and now the pleasure of the experience dominates your senses, nearly drowning you in it. She wasn't just prey - she was your prey.

“Doing alright in there?” You ask, and Floof responds by practically doing somersaults in your belly.

“Yes. Very.” Her voice is adorably muffled. “Thank you for this.”

“Of course. You know I can't say no to you.”

“Or to anyone,” she ribs you playfully, and your face grows warm with embarrassment. Trying to ignore it, you attempt to tease her back.

“You wanted this from the start, I assume? And the whole ‘can't sleep’ routine was just set dressing?”

“Yeah, maybe. What about it?”

“You could have just asked me to eat you, you know.”

“But where's the fun in that?”

You chuckle, still stroking and pawing your stomach.

“Fair point.”

As the excitement of the exchange fades, you're left feeling heavy and sleepy, and you stretch out on your rug and give a tremendous sigh of contentment. Floof seems to have laid down as well, curling up inside of you safe and sound - at least until she wriggled her way deeper into you. In that moment, you feel complete, whole. Still purring with each rise and fall of your chest, you hug her from the outside, your paws petting her through several thick layers of fur, skin, structure gel, and muscle.

“I love you,” you mumble, half-asleep. Drowsiness had settled over you like a warm, heavy blanket, and you were more than content to finish your nap with a full belly and the company of your companion. The last thing you remember before drifting off was Floof's soft-spoken reply:

“I love you too, Am.”

#vore nsft #willing vore #anthro prey #monster pred #mech pred #robot pred #size difference #quadruped pred #soft vore #safe vore #implied digestion #wolf girl #vore story #writing nsft #am.txt #my art.

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aquadestinyswriting · 4 months ago

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An Solas as Gràdhaiche

Summary: Meredith finally has to explain her relationship with Elowyn to Yoruk. An akward conversation ensues.

Words: 1,067

Tags: @druidx,@sparrow-orion-writes,@writeblrcafe, @ashirisu, @lexiklecksi

Warnings: None

Notes: Happy Birthday Dru <3. I know it's not something tailor-made for the day, but I think you'll enjoy this one.

Meredith sighed happily as she snuggled up against her fiance’s chest, finally able to sleep in her own bed after gods knew how long. She felt Yoruk shifting, trying to get comfortable. She tilted her head up, her face falling at his soft sigh,

“What’s the matter, mo goal.” she asked quietly, wondering why her beloved was suddenly looking so concerned. Yoruk glanced down at her and smiled,

“It’s probably nothin’ but…” the paladin trailed off, shifting so that he could face Meredith properly, “Ye any idea why yer wee woodlin’ friend was threatenin’ to kill me if she got any sort o’ word that ye were unhappy with me?” he asked.

Meredith cursed under her breath, then shook her head,

“I was wondering why ye were so pale when I went to have a word with her.” she muttered. The cleric whooshed out another breath before continuing, “We’ve been through a lot together over the last year and a bit, and we’ve gotten… pretty close.” she explained. Yoruk raised an eyebrow,

“Close?” he asked, “Do we need to have a talk talk?”

Meredith shot upright, shaking her head vehemently,

“No! No! It’s not like that, I swear.” she exclaimed, flapping her hands. Yoruk propped himself up on his elbow, cocking his head in confusion,

“While that’s a relief in itself, there’s obviously somethin’ going on there.” he pointed out, “So what gives?” he asked. Meredith groaned, running a hand down her beard in frustration, though whether that was at the situation or herself, Yoruk couldn’t quite tell.

“I neglected to tell Elowyn that I was engaged before she caught feelings for me. Like I said, we went through a lot; fighting for our lives on a near constant basis at one point, being the last two left out of the group we originally started this whole damn thing with, spending all our time in each other’s company, ye ken, the usual adventuring things ye hear about.” she explained.

Yoruk nodded,

“Did ye ever get around to telling her ye were already spoken for before ye came back to Fangthane?” he asked. Meredith grimaced,

“Kind of?” she murmured, shifting uncomfortably and looking down at the bedsheets. Yoruk huffed out a sigh,

“Kind of?” he queried, “I need a bit more than that, love.” he said.There were a few moments silence as Meredith grumbled,

“I blurted out that I was spoken for in the middle of a fight while we were fending off the advances of a horny elf bard.” she finally said, “No, I never actually sat down to explain matters after that because I never found the time to.” she added.

Yoruk raised his eyebrow further,

“No time? C’mon Merri, I know you better than that.” he pointed out, “Look, if ye ended up catching feelings back, even if nothing ever came of them, then there’s no shame in that.” he said, reaching out and taking his fiancee’s hands into his own, “What I want you to be right now is honest. Both to me and yourself.”

Merri finally looked up at the dwarven man sitting in front of her. Even in the almost pitch black of her bedroom she could see the patient expectancy on his face. Her heart skipped as she took in the details of it, but she pushed her immediate thoughts aside and thought through how to explain everything to the man she loved so much.

“Alright, fine. Yeah, I basically avoided bringing up the engagement thing after that. Partially because there really were other, way more important, things to think about at the time, and partially because I knew I’d shattered Elowyn’s heart the minute I said it.” Meredith explained, her hands gripping at the sheet. “The problem is, I really didn’t, and don’t have any romantic feelings for her, but I still care about her. A lot. But how the hells do I even begin to explain the difference? I don’t even know if any other cultures have anything similar to Cridhe-dàime.” she groaned, burying her head into her hands.

Yoruk, who had been reaching over to lay his hand on his beloved’s shoulder, froze momentarily. Had Meredith just outright claimed that the woodling woman was someone she considered her Cridhe-dàime? He leaned forward with an indulgent smile and wrapped his arms around the despondent woman,

“Well, at least we don’t need to delay the wedding by almost three centuries.” he quipped, earning him a thump on the arm and a disgruntled mumble for his trouble. He squeezed Meredith and let her go so he could look at her face again. He gently tucked a strand of hair that had fallen into her face behind her ear,

“Look, I get it, it’s awkward. Probably about as awkward as when I finally gathered up the courage to ask ye out on that first date.” Yoruk said, “But unless ye tell Elowyn how much ye care about her, even if it’s not in any romantic sense, then she’s never gonna know. It doesn’t matter if Elowyn never really understands what Cridhe-dàime actually means, as long as she knows how much she means to you.” he insisted.

Meredith relaxed as Yoruk spoke. He was right; Elowyn was obviously under the impression that Meredith didn’t care for her as much as she did, so she needed to know sooner rather than later. She leaned her head on Yoruk’s shoulder,

“Ye’re right, I do need to say something. But I’d best leave it for a bit. Elowyn needs a bit o’ time to really come to terms with everything.” she murmured, recalling the look in the woodling’s eyes as she’d wished Merri the best of luck before walking away. She lifted her eyes to meet Yoruk’s. Yoruk shook his head,

“You know her better than I do.” was all he said in reply. He kissed his very soon-to-be-wife and laid his head back on the pillow. Meredith watched as Yoruk shifted onto his side and curled up into the blankets. She yawned and followed suit. While it would be an incredibly awkward conversation, at least she had until after the wedding to have it. That should give Elowyn plenty of time to settle things out in her own mind.

With the happy thought of her Cridhe-dàime attending the happiest day of her life. Meredith rolled over, hugged Yoruk and finally drifted off to sleep.

#aquadestinyswriting #fangthane's folly #titan fighting fantasy #meredith gruksdottir #yoruk bloodvein

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ququb444hm · 2 years ago

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𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭, 𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝

part 08 / moments before disaster ☆

masterlist

warning(s): possible typos, lowkey rushed, really, really bad attempt to describe someone under the influence of alcohol

the night the two groups were looking forward to definitely came faster than expected!

as well as yn’s vomit.

the current situation can be illustrated as such: tetsurou, sober, driving kozume, shoyou, and tsukishima back to their university dorms while the rest of the bunch were settled inside the apartment portion of the flower shop. tooru helped koushi in the living room to place down blankets and pillows for themselves and morisuke and rintarou who were patiently waiting for one another to finish showering. cecily and koutarou on the other hand were carefully cleaning yn up and tucking her passed out body into bed.

“I really hope tetsu tells kozume not to bring up the whole situation,” cecily mumbled, stroking yn’s head. “I already know how embarrassed she’s going to be once she wakes up and remembers everything.”

kou hummed in response, reading through the pinning messages of his group chat, “I think kozume knows better than to talk about it unless yn brings it up first, I’ll message him later about it though.” he turned his attention away from his phone and to the sleeping figure. “I hope she’s okay, you sure you can handle everything here? I can stay until surou comes back just incase anything happens.”

“I’m sure I can handle yn.” cecily reassures, “get home safe, kou. there’s leftovers in the fridge if you want to bring atsumu some food.” the ace nodded, bending down to softly kiss yn’s forehead before leaving the room.

prior to the current setting, aka the actual party, yn and everyone else were fine!

in the middle of all the singing and drinking, yn actually let the previous sighting of her ex’s car slip her mind and had her full attention set on the current gathering… well most of her attention.

let’s not forget about the reddening blonde who’s eyes barely looked anywhere else beside the justin beiber fanatic.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you had a staring problem.”

“oh shut up, tsukki.”

the sophomore laughed at the other blonde’s quick response, stretching his limbs across the couch. “y’know, I can never understand why you don’t just confess your feelings for her. It’s obvious she likes you, like super, extremely obvious.”

“I didn’t know you were the type to get all philosophical when you get drunk.”

“your mom definitely knows.”

“and I’m leaving.” kozume pushed the laughing fit of a business major aside to stand up and make his way to the doors. this didn’t go unnoticed by yn who stopped crying to baby to follow the quiet junior–

“I THOUGHT YOU’D ALWAYYYYS BE MINE, MINE- wait I have to go pee. I think.” skipping in her steps, yn pushed through the doors, looking left and right before spotting kozume who turned around and seemed to wait for her. “kozzuuuu!” yn grinned, jumping over to the boy. “you seem so downnn, are you not having fun? come sing with me!”

“yn how many glasses of alcohol have you had?”

“uhm..let me think..” her brows knitted together in deep thought and kozume couldn’t help the smile that subtly crept on his face because of how cute he found the person in front of him. “oh, oh!” taking his hands into hers, yn used kozume’s fingers to hold up the amount of glasses she consumed. “thisss…muchh! I think.”

“three?” the subtle smile grew as he began to laugh, “kuroos really are lightweights. you can’t even walk straight anymore, and your cheeks are really red.”

at the sound of that, yn’s cheeks puffed out and she groaned at the boy, “listennn here kozu!”

“hm? what is it?” his cat like eyes bore into her half lidded ones, curious as to what her hazy mind was thinking. yn’s cold hands slowly made their way up to cup kozume’s face causing him to stiffen up.

“so….pretty.”

It was kozume’s turn to start turning pink except in his case, it wasn’t the alcohol. he could feel his heart start to quicken its pace and if it wasn’t for his ears catching tetsurou and cecily singing a duet, he swore yn could get him to fall into a daze where he would be wrapped around her finger like a lovesick fool.

unbeknownst to him, he already was.

time seemed to slow down as the two stayed glued to their spots, eyes not leaving the other persons’. that is, until a familiar voice broke the thickening tension–

“kozume?...oh and yn.”

yn’s eyes slowly trailed up to meet who the voice belonged to, aka the worst decision she could’ve made that night.

“...k..kei..ji?”

In a second her senses seemed to hit her all at once and before she knew what her body was about to do–

she threw up.

on kozume.

and then knocked out.

part 07 whore house <- | masterlist | -> part 09 therapy

note(s): uhh i do not want to do hw. none of the pictures used are mine!!

#🐈.thanksalotcupid #kozume kenma #kenma kozume #kozume kenma x reader #kozume kenma x fem!reader #kenma kozume x reader #kenma kozume x fem!reader #kenma x reader #kozume x reader #smau #kenma smau #haikyuu #haikyuu smau #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! smau

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yukidragon · 2 years ago

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Hey yuki, I have a question...actually two questions about the game something's wrong with sunny day jack. First: how did jack not find out about ian during these months that he's been with Sunshine? after all, her cell phone WOULD NOT STOP ringing because of ian's constant calls and voicemails, how come jack didn't hear about ian well before the middle of the demo?

Second: And do you think the protagonist has a certain "emotional dependency"? because even if she doesn't forgive ian for what he did to her, she supposedly misses him, yes, because when jack asked if she missed him, she is kind of silent, I interpreted that as a "Yes" . What's more, we already know that she doesn't feel good when it comes to the subject of "Love".

Before I answer your questions, I’d like to take the time to make sure this lovely picture is credited to the game’s creator Sauce. Even though I didn’t post it this time, I always want to make sure they get due credit for their hard work.

Anyway, onto your first question. It’s a pretty good one. In fact, MC wonders about that topic in the demo as well:

Did I ever tell Jack about Ian? Now that I’d thought about it…The subject really hadn’t come up formally. Which. Is a bit odd, considering Ian’s room remained (mostly) undisturbed, and right across the hall from my own. It was same as it had always been, minus what he took with him when he moved to a fancy performing arts school in another state… I hadn’t been in there since the breakup. But had Jack never wondered either?

It seems as though Jack was waiting for MC to bring the topic up. By not prying into their personal business (at least not obviously) he can be supportive and a good friend, earning their trust.

However, it seems those messages from Ian and seeing his room and clothing every day didn’t affect MC like talking to him directly on the phone did. It was such a painful incident that Jack is clearly worried about them. Maybe he was waiting for MC to talk about Ian on their own, but after seeing how much pain Ian put MC through, it’d be reason for him to push a little harder in order to relieve them of this pain.

Of course, I’m pretty sure Jack would have done his own research into Ian, so to speak. He wants to show only his best sides to his sunshine, so anything that might be less than pleasant is something that is best left where they can’t see it. It’s for their own good of course!

Jack might have already gone through Ian’s room on his own. Heck, MC could have let Jack sleep in Ian’s room until they started sharing a bed platonically. It’s really up to interpretation if the game doesn’t specify how the first few months of their living situation went.

So, yeah, I’m pretty sure Jack already had at least some idea about Ian before he officially brings up the topic; he was just being considerate to MC’s privacy... at least as far as they know.

For the second question... I think that’s heavily hinted in the demo. Though MC is trying their best to abandon all things nostalgic in a reckless manner, likely to try and abandon their feelings for Ian... they still live in the place they got together. Ian’s room has been (presumably) untouched. Most of their wardrobe consists of Ian’s clothes. Given how desperate their financial situation is, he might still be paying for half (or more) of the rent. They still listen to the messages and haven’t blocked him.

There was also the conversation MC and Ian had. MC is angry and hurt, but they didn’t hang up right away. They didn’t yell or say anything that would push Ian away. They made their anger clear, and they voiced their doubts that he can fix things between them... but they’re not ending things completely.

Part of it, I think, is because of Ian’s pleading. They have a history together. They know each other better than anyone. They are in tune with each other, as the afterlife episode showed. They understand each other.

Which makes it so, so much easier for Ian to manipulate MC’s emotions.

It might not be conscious on his part... but the things Ian says in the phone calls are pretty manipulative. It’s understandable since he doesn’t want to lose MC. He claims he needs them and can’t go on without them. He’s emotionally dependent on them.

I think, to some extent, Ian and MC had an underlying level of unhealthy co-dependency going on. Now, how much there is depends on the specific MC and our own headcanons, but we can see in the game from how much talking to him and thinking about him hurts MC... They want to move on, but they miss him.

Ian was MC’s only relationship, and we see some troubling things from MC when it comes to love, mostly in how they feel they’re not deserving. Maybe that’s just from the betrayal they experienced when the person they loved and trusted most cheated on them... or maybe it hints at an underlying toxicity to their relationship.

When Jack asked MC if they missed Ian, that silence was absolutely a yes. I think it was also them not wanting to miss him. They want to move on, but Ian won’t let them.

I think what Ian did to MC is a big part of why MC clings to Jack so desperately in any route. They are lonely and felt bad for so long... and Jack came to make them feel good. He supports them, makes them happy, and fills the hole in their heart that Ian left behind.

Whether or not Jack is a rebound though or can become something healthier though depends on the route taken in the end in the game. I know which one I’m going with for Sunshine in Hell because I like the idea of two flawed and wounded individuals helping each other heal and grow stronger together.

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur

#Sunny Day Jack #Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack #SunnyDayJack #sdj #swwsdj #Headcanon Ramblings #Ask #Sauce-y Art

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oscartullyofriverrun · 2 months ago

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Six Final Moons: challenge for @asongofgoldenfireandblackblood

The entire thing had seemed like an adventure until the moment Oscar was standing alone in front of the Citadel. Oscar knew he’d made more than one bad decision throughout his life, but leaving in the middle of the night without a word to anybody, including his family, was probably the worst of them. He’d been angry when he’d done it, shoving clothes and food into a bag before sneaking into the stables and taking off in the dead of night. He’d only left a note behind for Kyle because even at his darkest and most emotional moments, there was a part of him that couldn’t stand to inflict pain on either of his siblings. He hadn’t told Kyle where he was going, but he’d promised he was safe and that he would be back home soon. He knew Kyle would pass the information on to Abigail to keep her from worrying and that was enough for him. He doubted his father would care he was gone and he didn’t care what Kyle chose to do when it came to their mother. He loved her, but he was angry with her. She’d seen how his father had been treating him, but she hadn’t done or said anything about it. He told himself it didn’t matter.

Luceon met Oscar on the River Road as they planned. Oscar figured he’d at least told Alyx where he was going, but Oscar didn’t ask. The whole point of this was to forget about their families for a while. At first, that was what they had done. They had traveled along the River Road until they passed through Lannisport and the road turned into the Searoad, sleeping under the stars and staying at inns when they came across them. Nobody gave them a second glance, especially once they reached the Westerlands where Oscar’s face was a lot less recognizable. It was easy to sleep curled together with Luceon in the woods and at the inns they would buy a room with two beds before squeezing themselves together into one, limbs tangled together tightly as they slept. It had almost been perfect, almost like they were able to be a real couple, unknown and on the road.

They followed the road to pass through Highgarden, somehow getting invited to parties with others like them, who didn’t care when Oscar had danced with Luceon in his arms the entire night, kissing him whenever he pleased. They’d lingered in Highgarden longer than they should have, making friends and holding hands in the daylight. But eventually, the dwindling state of their funds forced them to move on down the Roseroad until they finally reached Oldtown. It was a beautiful city, cleaner and more well-kept than King’s Landing despite being much older. After a day of sightseeing, Luceon had gone into the Citadel to see about becoming a novice. It’s why they had traveled all this way in the first place. Luceon’s father had been pushing for it for years. As the third son of House Goodbrook, Luceon had very little to offer in terms of a marriage and rumors about Luceon’s lack of interest in women had started to swirl around him the same way they circled Oscar. Luceon was intelligent and kind, and he adored helping people. He would make a good healer, but he had wanted to visit the Citadel on his own terms, not his father’s, and he’d invited Oscar to come along with him.

Oscar had been waiting on him for hours, stopping to get food from a tavern before walking up and down Oldtown’s various streets. He finally ended up waiting outside the Citadel, watching the people as they passed by. After another hour, Luceon emerged from the Citadel, a wide smile on his face. He made his way to Oscar, grin growing wider. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long, but it was wonderful there. They had so many books I’d never heard of and everyone was really kind. I think…I think I could really be happy there.”

Oscar stared at him, shocked to find the words roused the familiar anger in him, sharp and vicious as always. He’d traveled all this way, waited outside for hours, only for Luceon to tell him he liked it? That he wanted to become lost here among dusty books and dull people? It had never occurred to him until this moment how much he’d wanted Luceon to hate it, how much he wanted Luceon to reject the idea and return home with him so they could devise another plan for their future. He didn’t want Luceon to leave. Not now, not ever. The anxiety surged alongside the anger, twisting and twirling around each other like squirming snakes in a pit. “Well, that’s hardly a surprise. When aren’t you pleased to do whatever your father wants?” Oscar spit out, the snakes dripping their poison through his mouth.

Luceon only sighed. He’d known Oscar a long time and he’d sat with him through more than one outburst. His lack of reaction only made Oscar angrier. Didn’t he care at all? Angry words whipped through his mind quickly, each phrase more hurtful and personal than the last. Oscar only held the words back through sheer force of will, his last bit of self control focused on the fact that while a part of him wanted to make Luceon hurt just as much as he was hurting, he didn’t truly believe any of the angry things running through his mind and he knew he would regret saying them once his anger had exhausted itself. Oscar hardly noticed his hands creeping towards his hair, more emotions twisting and turning through him than he could possibly handle without some sort of release.

He blinked in surprise when Luceon gently grabbed both of his hands to stop him, letting them go to step forward and cradle Oscar’s face in his palms. The surprise of the action and the accompanying knowledge that they were in public where anyone could see them shocked him enough to slightly break Oscar out of his spiral. “Breathe,” Luceon ordered, voice firm.

Oscar forced himself to take a few gasping breaths, eyes focused on Luceon’s. Once Luceon seemed certain Oscar had slightly calmed down, he stepped back and glanced around to make sure no one was watching them. He put his hand on Oscar’s shoulder and guided him down the street into a random alley that stank of old fish and sour fruit. “I don’t want you to become a maester,” Oscar said, words desperate.

“That’s the entire reason we came all this way,” Luceon answered, words tinged with slight annoyance that he was clearly trying to hide. “You haven’t said anything this whole time.”

“I didn’t know I didn’t want that until just now,” Oscar said.

“That’s because you never think, Oscar,” the words could have been an insult, but they seemed exasperatedly fond somehow when Luceon said them. “You ignore problems and tell yourself everything is going to be fine until you’re forced to see the reality.”

“I want to be with you,” Oscar pleaded. The anger was gone now and desperation had stepped in to take its place. “We can go back to Highgarden and make a life or we can travel to Essos and become sellswords. Just leave everything behind and never go home.”

Luceon actually laughed, though his dark brown eyes were sad. “You love your family and your people. I’ve heard the way you talk about your and Kyle’s plans. That’s your purpose, not me.”

“I’d give it up for you,” Oscar said, and in that moment he thought he might truly mean it if it meant he got to be with Luceon one second longer.

“You can’t. And even if you could, I won’t give up mine. I want to help people and I’m not going to stand to the side while you marry someone else, even if you don’t love them. I want a life of my own, not one where I wait in the shadows and dark stables until you can be with me again. It’s not your fault, but it’s not what I want.”

Oscar turned away from him, doing his best to hide the tears that had gathered in his eyes. Luceon moved over to wrap his arms around him and even though his grip should have been as firm and steadying as ever, Oscar could already feel him slipping away. “Things never could have ended differently for us,” Luceon whispered.

Not even Oscar could pretend otherwise any more.

#a song of golden fire and black blood #Here's What You Missed challenge #oscar tully #oscar's challenges

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lemmilemura · 1 year ago

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Alright here we go, some stuff is missing but that's just cuz I really cannot think of anything and I just wanna get it out of my drafts. Emjoy

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

You were 100% part of the Simon, Janae, Maeve group before and after you started dating. I’d say you maybe knew Janae first and got in through her. It’s a really great dynamic and you have the best times together. He’s the type of best friend who will literally roast you any chance he gets, worse every time, but will defend you to hell and back if anyone else does.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He will not, under any circumstance, admit it, but he’s a pretty big fan of just a good ol’ cuddle sesh. He will never outright say when he wants to, but he’ll sort of act in a way that lightly pushes you do initiate it. He’ll get closer to you, wrap his arms around you, stuff like that, waiting until you ask to cuddle. Just the feeling of you so close to him, both so comfortable, it’s just amazing. It reminds him that you’re still with him, not going anywhere. If there’s days where you’re more cuddly or clingy, he will probably act all like "my my, you’re really clingy today huh? I guess we can cuddle" but trust me, he loves those days. To be honest the two of you could cuddle almost anywhere (with varying degrees of closeness, in school you can’t really get comfy). His favorite place is probably in bed, because you can just wrap the blanket around yourselves and just snuggle real close and just enjoy. If you, while cuddling, play with his hair or something, chances are he’ll get really sleepy, so you use that to your advantage more often than not.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

I can imagine the two of you moving in together probably as soon as you can, be that before or after graduation. Both away from your parents, together 24/7 and you can do and decorate however you want. For some reason I can’t decide between Simon being the type who cannot even make a microwave meal properly, or being an absolute 5star chef in the kitchen xD.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He wants to marry you, 100%. If you want to, of course. If you’re the kind of person who wouldn’t want to get married, he’d be totally accepting. He just feels, after a while, that there’s nothing that could be better, nothing and noone that could replace you. You two definitely have a promise ring situation, and the actual wedding would not be that far away.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Big spoon every time. He holds you as if any moment you could disappear, but at the same time also like you’re the most fragile thing on earth, perfectly in the middle of the two. If he’s had a bad day, he’ll most likely hold you while burying his head in your neck and just stay like that for a bit. In public, like at school, he’ll put an arm around you or stand behind you, hands resting lightly on your waist.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It would take him quite a bit, because of his past hurts. He will most likely not be the first one to say it, because he wants to wait until he’s 100% sure you love him too, be that you telling him or if he feels like you do, he’s gotten pretty good at reading people in that sense. After the first one, you won’t hear it often, mostly when you’re both in bed and he thinks you’re asleep. He’s the type to look at your 'sleeping' form and say a few praises and things, as well as 'I love you' almost every single time :,)

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

This very much depends. Some random kid he’s never met? It’s his nemesis. Hates it. Looks at it with a weird face until it looks away or cries. Family members/cousins? He’s the one playing video games with them at every family gathering, but also 100% the one who teaches them swear words. Your own children? He’s much more relaxed than his own parents, much kess pressure or control. As long as what they do isn’t a crime or too stupid, he lets them do basically whatever they want. He can however definitely get more stern with them if needed, but everyone prefers it not to come to that.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

My mans remembers EVERYTHING that you tell him about yourself. EVERYTHING. He's really good at remembering stuff, and you are no exception whatsoever.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

How weird it may seem, it’s the day he almost died. Until then, there was a constant nagging thought that you didn’t actually like him, and that you just go out with him to get info on others or to be spared from AT. But when he saw your genuine concern for him, your beaming, happy face, covered in tears, when he came home, he realized that you genuinely cared for and loved him. He alre looks back fondly on any moments when you're just cuddling and enjoying your time together

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

I mean there’s the 'exposing of other people’s dark secrets' thing...

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Very. You are the one who gives him the self-confidence he's missing without you, you make him feel better. When you're not around he's much more irritable and everybody hates it, but he hates it the most.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He absolutely hates admitting it, but over the time you two have been together and have regularly shared a bed, it has happened that some nights, when he isn’t with you, he finds himself unable to sleep. He’s gotten so used to having you next to him, in his arms, that it just feels like there’s something missing (there is). If he’s away in an out of town sense, it’s even worse, because you can’t just go to eachothers places. In times like these, you two will go on call with eachother. It does actually help him knowing that you’re 'there' and to hear your voice, but the best way to fall asleep is with you in his arms <3

#one of us is lying #oouil #simon kelleher #oouil tv show #headcanon #sfw alphabet

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folklauerate · 2 years ago

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Okay about to post some smut 😎✌🏼

Outtake from the Ticket to Paradise AU;

She whined, shifting her hips an infinitesimal amount, itching for some friction, some merciful relief, something that would cut through the torture of the heat around her, the wetness she felt pooling at her core, an ache that never went away.

On some level, she was aware of where she was; the fan, whirring lazily above the bed, the sound of waves through the open window, her ex-husband with his arms wrapped around her loosely around her waist sleeping beside her. On some vague, distant plane, Kate was aware of all of these things.

But the need for relief, one that had been building with a sort of reckless heat throughout her pregnancy, was worse than before, reaching its crisis in that moment, something that felt like pain licking at her skin, the need for something—for him—unbearable.

Kate shifted again, slowly, her cotton night gown bunched between her legs a paltry facsimile for the real thing. She couldn’t stop the agonized cry that escaped her lips, biting her knuckles.

What had she been thinking, allowing herself to fall asleep with him? Nightmares during the monsoon were one thing, and the comfort he gave, that only he seemed to be able to provide were welcome, sure, his soothing murmurs lulling her to the first night of sleep that hadn’t ended with her waking up screaming. But, somehow, this was worse. She would take the nightmares a million times over—over—over this;

—the feel of his large hand against her growing belly, against their child—

—his breathing, hot and sweet against her neck—

—his leg, his knee, so close that, if she shifted, she’d be able to bring it between her legs, to feel it, to—

—his scent, that all-too-familiar warmth and musk and something intensely Anthony—

—it was too much. She needed to leave.

Kate blearily tried to sit up, unaware of where she could possibly go considering that they were in her room, but knowing she needed to leave, before she did something foolish like—

“Kate.”

His voice sounded the same. She loved his voice like that; rough with sleep, thick with want, threaded with something that only came alive in the middle of the night. How often had she heard him say her name like that, before pulling her onto him, over him, under him? How often had he whispered something filthy in her ear in that very same voice, the two of them blind to anything but each other, insatiable in their sleep, as impatient as always.

Kate moaned.

“God, Kate, you’re—“ His sounded pained. “Let me.”

“Anthony…”

“Let me,” Anthony said, more firm this time.

She felt his hands around her waist, tugging her flush against his chest. She nearly cried from the relief of them on her, branding her even through the thin cotton of her nightgown.

The same nightgown he was pushing up, inch by inch, the material suddenly unbearably rough against her skin.

Still, even as she shifted her legs, even as she sighed, a pinprick of awareness still cut through the fog of her lust-addled brain.

“Anthony—“

“Shh,” He hushed, voice against her ear. “I said I’d take care of you, didn’t I? I said I’d be there for you with the pregnancy…”

His hand, large and calloused, brushed tenderly against her skin, her swelling stomach.

“Even if we’re not together,” Anthony said, a hard edge in his voice. “Even if we’re separated…”

She could barely register what he was saying, could barely pay attention—not when his hands were on her once again, not when that voice was back in her ear, sweet and dangerous, all at once.

Kate felt like a live wire, she felt as though she was strung out and stretched so tightly, she might snap.

“Anthony, please,” She whimpered, her hand dipping into her underwear, trying desperately to find something—anything—that would make it stop, when—

“Let me,” He muttered darkly in her ear, pushing her hand away.

His hands swiped through the slickness at her core, so large and so familiar, and Kate sobbed with relief.

“God, you’re so wet,” He sounded agonized as he pushed his fingers against. “You’re so hot, Kate, I—“

“Please,” She begged. “Please, please, please, I need—“ She broker off in a sob when he thumbed her clit, swollen and aching as it was.

“What do need, Kate?”

She couldn’t speak, couldn’t even think, couldn’t comprehend anything behind the fullness of his fingers, two of them pushed inside her, thick and rough and not nearly enough. Her breath faltered as he bent them.

“Anthony—“

“Say it, Kate,” He said, nipping delicately at her neck, before brushing his tongue against it, both grating and tender in a way that had her whimpering. “I want to hear you say it.”

“You,” She blurted out, tightening her thighs around his hands as his fingers stilled. “You, god I need you, Anthony; I’ve needed you for weeks; why haven’t you—“

She felt a tear run down her cheek as he pushed a third finger inside her, feeling full, feeling the first ounce of relief she’d felt in ages.

“Why haven’t I what, Kate?”

“Why haven’t you—you—fucked me?” She cried as he rubbed her clit, insistently now. It wouldn’t take long, that much she knew. “I’ve needed—I’ve needed you inside me for weeks, I keep, I keep waking up, in the middle of the night, wanting you, I’m hurting, why haven’t—“

She bit her knuckles, letting out a low, choked off moan as she came, his fingers thrusting inside her deeply, desperately. Kate shuddered as she felt his answering groan against her, the vibration rumbling over her skin, settling against her ear.

“I didn’t—I didn’t know, Kate,” Anthony said, sounding every bit as tortured as she felt. “If I had known—god, if only I’d known, I’d have been there. I’d have been there every night, I wouldn’t have left after dinner. I’d have been there, anytime you needed me. I—I…” He faltered, nosing against her skin.

“I wanted you, too,” He confessed, and Kate moaned.

He pulled her even tighter against him, a hand against her breast, squeezing tightly, as intense as she usually liked. With the pregnancy, however, they’d been so sensitive, and it was almost painful, his rough handling of her, his words against her ear, his fingers inside her as he tweaked her nipple through the nightgown, pulling.

Kate nearly fell apart again.

“I kept thinking about it,” Anthony said. “About the way you feel when you’re pregnant, about the way you’re so fucking tight, the way you get wet if I so much as looked at you—“

He kissed her shoulder, lips hot against her skin.

“Remember that babymoon we had, in Mexico?” He asked. “We barely left the room. God, I thought I’d pass out from the amount of times we fucked. You’d wake up and be on me in the middle of the night, you were insatiable, you were impossible.”

“Please,” She whispered, begging. “I need you inside me, please—“

It was furious, it was heady; Kate kicked off her underwear impatiently, their hands in each other’s way as they pushed his shorts off his hips. There was no teasing, no prolonging it; they were desperate for each other, desperate for the way they were close to careening off the cliff and into the abyss together. Kate nearly cried again as she felt the head of his cock brush through her folds, thighs stick with her release, and his hands shook as he lined himself up, pushing into her.

Anthony groaned against her hair, a guttural and broken noise. Kate bit her knuckles so hard so wondered if she’d drawn blood.

“So fucking tight,” He hissed, moving inside her. She could only grasp his hand, anchoring herself to him. “You’re so fucking tight.”

“Anthony,” Kate whimpered. “Harder, please.”

“Needed me, did you?” He asked, sounding almost angry as he gave her exactly what she wanted. “Couldn’t get this from anyone else, could you? No one else gives it to you this good, honey, and you know it.”

Kate nearly cried at how deep she felt him inside her, clenching her cunt around him, almost sobbing as he moved out before pushing back in.

“Am I right, Kate?” He asked, and to anyone else, she knew it would sound possessive, dark, ugly. But that was just the thing—she wasn’t anyone else. She knew him, knew every inch of skin on his body, knew the turns and corner of his mind. She knew the hitch of his voice and his grip on her waist was him pleading with her, desperate and unsure.

“Yes,” She nodded. “Yes, you’re right. I need—mmm—need you to fill me up, Anthony, please, it’s you, it’s only you, oh—“

She gasped as he hit that spot inside her, that only he was able to reach, something deep and dangerous unfurling inside her.

“Come for me, then,” He said, rubbing her clit furiously. “You’re so tight, baby, but let me feel you even tighter. Come for me.”

She felt her release sneaking up on her, pleasure threatening to blur the edges of her vision, heat licking up at the base of her spine, senses numb to anything but the feel of him around her, inside her, making her feel fuller than ever before.

“Come on, Kate,” He muttered darkly against her. “Come on, let go, I know you can—“

She whined, reaching behind her threading her fingers through his hair, pulling him even closer against her.

“You’re so close, I know you are, sweetheart, go on—“

Kate came with a keening cry, something inside of her breaking and shifting as he continued pushing against her. She felt liquid drip down her thighs, felt Anthony’s groan against her skin as he continued pushing inside of her, his own movements becoming hurried. She relished the feeling of him, the feeling of fullness, of completion, as his breath caught. His hand on her breast tightened as he came against her, groaning as he did, the sound low and dripping with relief.

She felt him panting behind her, their breaths ragged and uneven.

Kate closed her eyes, her hand tightening around his, wanting to prolong the moment for as long as possible.

“Kate…”

“Shh,” She said, squeezing his hand. “No. Not now.”

But this was Anthony, and though she couldn’t see him, she could practically hear the gears turning in his mind, his brain in overdrive, attempting to sort out the mess they’d made.

The sort of mess that had gotten them into this mess in the first place.

“Anthony,” She pleaded. “Not now. Please. We can talk in the morning.”

“In the morning,” He said, sighing.

And before he could do anything stupid, like pull away, Kate pulled his arms around her, letting her heartbeat slow, until it matched his.

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #kate sharma #kathony #fanfic #ticket to paradise au #taylor swift

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skyward-floored · 2 years ago

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Febuwhump day 11 - fever

Starting febuwhump in the middle of the month with my Links from my own au Courage of Ages, because I looked at the list and basically gave into temptation 😅

I’m going to try and keep these short so i don’t get stressed, just fun oneshots and an excuse to write my Links more :)

Here’s an explanation of courage of ages, as well as who’s who, but in this fic only four of them show up. Gloam is tp Link, Hue is albw & tfh, Era is hw, and Sprite is oot & mm.

————————————————————

“Gloam?”

The Hero of Twilight blinked his eyes open, looking up at who’d addressed him. Hue stood next to the tree that he’d been dozing against up until a few seconds ago, looking like he felt extremely bad for disturbing him.

“Hey Hue, what’s up? You need something?” he yawned, and the younger hero shifted his weight nervously, and scratched the back of his neck.

“Era isn’t awake.”

Gloam tilted his head. “And..? Is that a problem? I mean, we weren’t going to head out until tomorrow morning anyways, he may as well take a nap.”

“No, I mean he hasn’t woken up all day,” Hue stressed. “I was going to tell you earlier but I couldn’t find you or anybody else, so I figured I’d just wait, but now...”

Hue glanced behind him at the inn in the distance where they were all staying.

“He’s barely moved. He was making weird noises before too, I’m... I’m kinda worried Gloam.”

The goatherd furrowed his brow and stood up, forgoing his comfortable spot against the tree to instead follow Hue back inside to where Era had apparently been sleeping all day.

If it were almost any one of the others Gloam would brush it off as them just taking a nap, but Era was one of the Links in their group who barely slept under normal circumstances.

Maybe he was just really tired?

They entered one of the rooms several of them were sharing, Gloam noting the lump on one of the beds. Drawing closer with Hue on his heels, Gloam saw Era tightly curled up under the sheets, already odd since he tended to sleep ramrod-straight on his back. His blanket was tight around his shoulders, breath wheezing in his throat, and when Gloam leaned closer he could see his face was flushed.

Wait...

Gloam leaned down and pressed a hand to Era’s forehead, then winced at the heat under his palm.

“Darn it, he’s got a fever,” he muttered, and at his touch, Era’s eyes flicked open.

He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and hair limp with sweat. He was always so put together, Gloam had to admit it was weird seeing him this... disheveled.

“We moving again?” the knight rasped, and made to sit up, arms trembling. Hue pushed him back down, and shook his head.

“No way, you’re sick Era. We’re not moving anytime soon.”

Era’s face paled.

“Sick? No. No way, I’m not sick I can’t be sick—” he said thickly, panic leeching into his voice.

“Era calm down, you’ve just got a bit of a fever,” Gloam soothed, trying to keep the worry out of his voice. “You only need some rest, you’ll be fine.”

Era swallowed, and Gloam could see him mentally push the panic down.

“But... we need to get going tomorrow,” he protested with a cough. “This was only supposed to be a quick stop, and then—”

“We can spare a day or two,” Gloam interrupted. “We switched pretty recently, I doubt we’ll leave this time for a little while yet. And you can’t go anywhere in this condition.“

Era looked like he was about to argue, but instead sneezed several times in a row, each one getting progressively louder.

Hue muffled a giggle at the surprisingly high-pitched sneezes, then shrank back at the look Era gave him.

“Umm, I’ll go get some soup I saved from the other night,” he said, then quickly escaped out the door. Gloam watched him go with an amused smile, then pulled a chair to Era’s bedside, sitting down as he looked down at the other hero.

The knight’s eyes were half-lidded and weary, but he made an effort to look more awake once he realized Gloam’s gaze was on him.

“I really am all right,” he rasped, and Gloam shook his head, sighing.

“No, you really aren’t,” he countered. “Hue said you’ve been sleeping all day.”

“So?”

Gloam eyeballed him. “You are always up at the crack of dawn, same as me. The only reason I didn’t notice you sleeping in earlier was because I was preoccupied,” he said a bit guiltily, then resumed his stern look. “You. Are. Sick.”

Era shrank in his blanket, looking away from Gloam.

“But I’m holding us up,” he rasped quietly. “We were going to try to make it to the castle, we might not have time if we w-wait—”

Era broke off into a stream of thick coughs, raspy and painful sounding. He groaned when he finished, and Gloam handed him some water, the knight weakly sipping at it. Once he’d finished, Gloam put his hand back on his forehead, trying to get a sense of just how bad his fever was. Era flinched, but relaxed after a minute, eyes drooping.

“I think your fever could be worse, but I don’t know how long you’ve had it either,” Gloam murmured, then pulled his hand away with a sigh. “Either way... it’s certainly not the greatest. We can see if this town has a healer, but in the meantime try and get more sleep?”

“Slept all morning,” Era mumbled. “Don’t need more.”

“You’re practically dozing off Era,” Gloam said dryly. “Just go back to sleep. Or I’ll get everyone in here and they can yell at you too.”

Era winced. “...don’t do that.”

The door creaked as he finished speaking, and Gloam turned, expecting to see Hue. But Sprite walked in instead, looking a little out of breath, like he’d run all the way here then stopped right at the door in an effort to seem nonchalant.

“Hue said you’re sick,” he blurted out, then crossed his arms and gave Era a foul look. “How on earth did you manage that?”

“You think I know?” Era croaked, and Gloam watched the worry in Sprite’s eyes grow more prominent at how weak his voice was.

The kid hesitated, then stalked over and jumped up on the bed next to him, ignoring Era’s immediate protests.

“Kid I’m going to get you sick, get off,” Era said sharply, but Sprite only crossed his arms behind his head and laid down.

“You shared your canteen with me yesterday, I’m probably already doomed,” he snipped back. “And I heard you and Gloam arguing, just go back to sleep, huh? It’s going to take you forever to get better if you don’t rest.”

“This from the kid who sleeps like two hours every night,” Era said with an eye roll, and Sprite elbowed him.

“Just go to sleep!”

Era still looked reluctant, and Sprite sighed, then creamed the knight with a pillow he’d grabbed without an ounce of apology. Era let out a affronted hey! and Sprite glared at him, holding the pillow threateningly under his arm.

“Era. Captain. Old Link. Go to sleep,” Sprite stressed. “Or it’ll be even longer ‘til we can leave.”

Era continued to glare half-heartedly at him, which Sprite returned with an equally fierce look, and Gloam decided to leave them to it.

“I’ll go see if Hue found that soup or not,” he said, trying not to smile, and began to leave the room.

“Wait, make sure nobody else comes in here,” Era rasped before he could go, grabbing Gloam’s wrist in a surprisingly strong grip. He gave him a serious look, and Gloam paused. “We don’t need it spreading. Keep Cloud out especially, you know h-how—”

He broke into a coughing fit again, and Gloam pulled his blanket back up around him, Sprite giving the knight a thinly-veiled look of worry.

“We’ll try and keep everyone out, calm down,” Gloam assured. “We’re serious though, obviously you need more rest. At least try and go back to sleep, I’ll go bring you some food in a bit.” Era didn’t reply, and Gloam left the room as Sprite rummaged in his pouch, already wondering how he was going to keep all the other Links out.

The sound of an ocarina followed him down the stairs, the slow notes of a lullaby ringing softly through the inn.

#legend of zelda #legend of Zelda au #courage of ages #coa Gloam #coa Hue #coa Era #coa Sprite #febuwhump #day 11 #fever #febuwhump2023 #writing from the floor #posting this and then looking away because abgddhdsgh #I go through this same song and dance whenever I post anybwritung with my Links #ack #ALSO if anyone has particular links they’re fond of or suggestions for prompts #hmu I might take em

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