#one provides large magical rooms

[theostrophywife]

if u have time could u do theo taking care of a drunk reader?? thank u sm ❤️

here (in your arms).

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: here (in your arms) by hellogoodbye.

author's note: in a soft fluffy theo mood. don't text.

The boisterous sounds coming from the common room party filtered through the empty corridor of the boy's dormitories, making you sway to the beat of the music as you lifted your fist to the door. You rapped against the wood three times—your signature knock to let your best friend know that it was you on the other side.

You stepped back as the door swung open, revealing a disoriented Theo. His ruffled hair flopped over his eyes, the brown waves slightly flat on the right side, which you knew was his preferred side to sleep on. A twinge of guilt tugged at your heart as you watched the sleepy boy before you, his Chudley Cannons sweatshirt and light grey lounge pants indicating that you had probably interrupted his slumber. A rarity, given that your best friend suffered from insomnia more often than not.

Rubbing his eyes, Theo adjusted to the darkness of the hallway and glanced down at you. In your tiny little dress, you shivered in the cool air of the dungeons, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt to chase away the goosebumps.

"Hi Teddy," you whispered. "Did I wake you?"

"You did, but I don't mind." Theo said softly, rubbing up and down your arms to provide some much needed warmth. "What are you doing still up?"

"Pans convinced me to play another round of beer pong," you confessed. "You should have seen us. We obliterated the boys. Malfoy threw a fit."

The silly giggle that you covered behind your hand made Theo smile. If your constant swaying wasn't enough of an indication that you were currently inebriated, the deep red flush on your cheeks, neck, and arms told Theo all that he needed to know. You were absolutely sloshed.

"I'm sorry I missed it, dolcezza." When your body temperature refused to thaw, Theo shrugged off his jumper. For a brief moment, you caught a glimpse of his toned stomach, his olive skin glimmering in the dim lighting. You bit your lip, averting Theo's gaze. Luckily, he was too preoccupied with pulling the jumper over your head to notice. "Come in, let's get you warm, yeah?"

"Mmkay," you murmured in agreement. You trailed behind Theo, almost knocking into the doorway until he laced his fingers through yours, guiding you inside his dorm.

"There's a door there, amorina."

"Don't make fun, Teddy." You huffed, pouting as you followed closely behind. "Your room's too dark. How can you even see anything in here?"

Theo chuckled. "Sure, let's blame the lack of light instead of the fact that you're smashed."

"Am not," you countered, plopping onto Theo's large, plush bed. "I'm perfectly sober, thank you very much."

"Fine. Then who was the Minister of Magic during the Goblin Rebellion in 1752?"

"There were two ministers at the time. Boot was in office first, then he resigned due to mismanagement. Basil Flack replaced him." You smirked at your best friend, feeling rather smug. "Just because I'm bevvied doesn't mean that you'll catch me lacking, Theodore."

Theo raised a brow. "So you admit you're drunk?"

"You tricked me!"

"Guilty as charged." Theo admitted, plopping down right next to you. "So, did you bail on the party just to hog my bed?"

"It's not my fault that yours is much more comfier than mine," you mumbled, cocooning yourself underneath his comforters. "Plus, the party wasn't as fun without you there. I needed my partner in crime."

"I thought you'd be glad that I studied for the History of Magic exam instead of getting shitfaced. You're the one always telling me off about partying too much."

"Yeah, but I didn't think you'd actually listen."

"It's you," Theo said with a smile. "Of course I listened."

"I never thought I'd live to see the day when Theodore Nott is more responsible than me."

A smile tugged at your best friend's lips. "Well, one of us has to be. You're a mess, Y/N," he teased. "But you're my mess."

"As if that's not the pot calling the kettle black."

Theo chuckled as you buried yourself in his blankets, hiding from him entirely. He snuck underneath the covers and scooted closer until you were face to face.

"Hello," Theo whispered, wrapping his arms around your waist. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and hugged you liked he hadn't seen you all week. "I've missed you quite terribly."

"It's only been a few hours, Teddy." You replied, giggling as you brushed his hair back. It was getting so long, but you loved how soft and fluffy his locks felt as you ran your fingers through it.

"Says the girl who snuck into the boy's dorms to see me."

"Okay, so maybe I missed you too."

"That's what I thought."

You stayed intertwined for a moment, your hearts beating in sync as you clung onto one another. When you yawned, Theo patted your leg. "Come on, love. Let's get you ready for bed."

"But I'm already comfy," you whined, burying your face in his chest.

"I know, amorina. But you'll feel so much better after you've washed your face." You pouted in response. "I promise I'll make it quick. Then we can cuddle, okay?"

You nodded. "Okay, Teddy."

Theo smiled before giving you a piggyback ride to his private bathroom. Setting you down on the counter, he pulled out the makeup wipes that he kept in the drawer for this exact reason. You swung your legs in the air as he wiped the foundation off your face. With his brows furrowed and his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth, you'd never seen Theo so concentrated.

You grinned and pinched his cheek. "You're so cute when you're focused."

He quirked a brow as he helped you wash off the remnants. "Only when I'm focused?"

"No, you're cute all the time. It's infuriating." You lamented as Theo patted your face with a face cloth. He hummed, spreading serums and moisturizers on your skin like he'd seen you do a thousand times over.

"Oh? Care to share?"

"Hmm," you hummed, leaning into his touch. "I think it's cute when you hook our pinkies together in the hallway so I don't get overwhelmed by the crowd. Or when you get crumbs all over your face and grin like a little kid when I catch you raiding my cookie stash. Or how your eyes light up when we're watching the stars at night."

"You noticed all of that?" Theo asked softly.

"It's you," you answered, mirroring his words from earlier. "Of course I noticed."

The shy smile on his face made your heart flutter. "For the record, I think you're cute too. I think you're the cutest girl I've ever seen in my entire life."

"Sounds like you have a crush on me, Teddy."

"I have for the past six years. Thanks for finally noticing," he said with a chuckle.

You groaned, burying your face into his neck. "Don't say that to me when I'm drunk. What if I don't remember it tomorrow?"

Theo kissed the top of your head and carried you off to bed. "Then I guess I'll just have to remind you in the morning, love."

With a grin, you kissed the tip of his nose. "Thanks for taking care of me, Teddy."

Theo smiled. It was so beautiful that your heart ached to bear witness to it. As he tucked you into bed and wrapped his arms around you, the boy that you loved pressed a kiss to your temple and spoke a promise into the night.

"I'll always take care of you, Y/N."

Taglist: @annaisabookworm @marina468 @yaraasthings @the0doreslover @bubybubsters @moony-artemis @natasha887 @lucyysthings @criesinlies @bunnymallowo @niktwazny303 @letmedownslows @siriuslyalovergirl @wordsarelife @clairesjointshurt @daydreamingabthar

#I AM DOWN SO BAD I'M IN THE TRENCHES #theo nott #theo nott x reader #theo nott smut #theo nott x you #theo nott x y/n #theo nott imagine #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you

[fleuraliasave]

❤ Version 7.0 Fleuralia Save File ❤

Download link down below (please read entire post before installing)

This save file uses all EP’s, GP’s (not Journey to Batuu), SP’s and most of the kits (Country Kitchen, Blooming Rooms, Incheon Arrivals, Retro Fit, Industrial loft, Moonlight Chic, Little Campers, Pastel Pop, Everyday Clutter, Bathroom Clutter, Simtimates Collection, First Fits, Desert Luxe, Modern Luxe, Poolside Splash, Book Nook, Basement treasures, Greenhouse Haven, Pastel Pop and Bust the Dust).

What’s new in this update?:

Chestnut Ridge and Tomarang have been completely redone, added multiple new lots, updated other lots and provided make-overs for the households.

Added new households (when living in world; with jobs, friends, preferences etc).

Added rental lots in multiple other worlds outside of Tomarang (Brindleton Bay, Henford-on-Bagley, Britechester and more).

Spooky Fall Festival has been moved to Chestnut Ridge (bigger with haunted house ride). The old lot in Brindleton Bay has been changed into a cemetery.

Current Status of Worlds:

Finished worlds: Willow Creek, Oasis Springs, Newcrest, Magnolia Promenade, Windenburg, San Myshuno, Forgotten Hollow, Brindleton Bay, Del Sol Valley, StrangerVille, Glimmerbrook, Sulani, Britechester , Evergreen Harbor, Mt. Komorebi, Henford-on-Bagley, Tartosa, Moonwood Mill, Copperdale, San Sequoia, Chestnut Ridge (NEW!) and Tomarang (NEW!).

Finished vacation worlds: Granite Falls and Selvadorada.

Finihed other lots: Hospital, Science Lab and the Police Station.

To be updated: the Magic Realm, will either be included in a future update or on the gallery (OriginID: fleuralia)

What do you get with this save?:

For my save file all lots are either completely new builds (almost all) or renovations, ofcourse created by me. Exceptions: I have added the official builds for the releases of the Paranormal SP by Dr Ashley and the Dream Home Decorator GP by Deligracy to this save, since I thought they deserved a spot. These two are therefore not my own creations, credits are given in the description to Dr Ashley and Deligracy. Mt. Komorebi, Henford-on-Bagley, Tartosa, Moonwood Mill, Copperdale, San Sequoia and Chestnut Ridge lots are largely created by GameChangers. Most lots have gotten smaller updates, others are completely new builds by me.

All the townies had make-overs plus I added new families to spice it up a bit. Some of the townies are made by other creators, who are given credits in the description of the household. All the townies in the different worlds have a story, some include sentiments and adjusted relationships to the story.

Added plenty of community lots to give your Sims something to do (YAY!). Almost every world has one restaurant, but it also includes festivals that represent the four seasons (park lots) and a fully functional shopping street in Magnolia Promenade (toy store, bridal store and more).

I have added rental lots so you can go on vacation in more worlds. For example in Sulani, Willow Creek and Windenburg.

Other details:

As mentioned at the beginning, this save uses almost all packs (except Journey to Batuu and some kits). This means that if you download it without owning or installing most of the packs a lot of objects will disappear from the save, but if you are not bothered by this you can still download and play in it.  

I disabled the autonomous fame gain and neigborhood action plan voting/environmental changes, you enable them again in the pack settings menu.

I would love to add some households in this save created by all of you! Add your household under the hashtag #fleuraliatownies in The Sims 4 Gallery, you can add a storyline and world in the description but thats not obligatory. If I respond on your creation it means that I have incorporated it in the save for the next update.

Sadly every game update comes with a lot of bugs. I suggest before reporting problems in the save to me, to check on forums if its related to a general bug/glitch or to mods (if you use them).

Questions and supportive feedback are always welcome, you can reach me here via a comment on this post, an ask or through a DM 😁

How to make it work in your game:

Download the save file from the link below.

Drag it in your saves folder under: PC/Documents/Electronic Arts/The Sims 4/saves.

Change the numbers if you already have a save with the same name.

It should now show up in your game as: Fleuralia Save Version 7.0.

DOWNLOAD (SFS) / Alternate (GD)

!!Don’t re-upload or claim as your own!!

Future updates will follow after each pack release (if it includes a world). The time the update will be uploaded after each release depends on how much I have to change and on my work schedule around that time.

Last but not least, enjoy and till next time! XX

Fleuralia

Feel free to support me ❤️: Ko-fi account

#fleuraliasave #save file #update #sims 4 save file #fleuraliatownies

[digital-domain]

Spring Cleaning

Alastor x Reader // word count 3.2k

In which Alastor goes through your closet, and offers a tasteful replacement for the unsavory things he’s destroyed

Tags/warnings: yandere, invasion of privacy, Alastor’s outfit-changing magic fuckery, mention of lingerie, slight suggestiveness

A/N: I’d like to thank Goodwill for providing the clothing item that inspired this fic

There’s someone in your room, and you know exactly who it is, because - well, it’s not like it’s a rare occurrence. It doesn’t happen every time, but often enough that you’ve gotten used to seeing Alastor when you open the door, pacing along your bedroom floor, casually perusing your belongings, or sitting at your desk chair like he’s been waiting for you all day. It’s been happening for so long, now, that you don’t remember exactly when it started. And you certainly don’t know why. You tried asking, once or twice, but you learned quickly that he has a shocking ability to dance around questions that he doesn’t want to answer. All you really know is that he’s taken an interest in you, and that it’s not likely to disappear anytime soon.

Some specific visits do stick out in your memory. On one particularly horrendous occasion, he’d stood directly beside the door when you’d swung it open, hiding himself from view, only for his presence to be revealed when you’d turned to shut it behind you. His head had been tilted to a truly bizarre angle, but he’d straightened himself out while you were still reeling from the shock.

No need to be frightened, my dear. Just a bit of fun…

You got the feeling that the look on your face was exactly the entertainment he was looking for. 

Today isn’t like that, thankfully. It’s usually not. You get the impression that he doesn’t want to scare you away (as if you could run away, even if you wanted to), and that that particular visit was a rare sort of indulgence. Your door is already cracked open, and you hear him long before you see him. He’s humming something, but like most of the songs he treasures, it’s far too old for you to recognize.

Not as if he accepts that as an excuse. You’ve started learning some of the titles, just to appease him. And the lyrics. And reading the books that he’s given you, and listening to his odd bits of old-fashioned advice, and accepting his various other gifts. The whiskey was nice, although of course he insisted upon drinking with you, and cut you off at one glass. Apparently, it would have been improper to indulge any further in mixed company. The coffee was better - at least he let you drink that by yourself.

When you swing the door open, he’s half-turned away from you, and doesn’t so much as look in your direction. But what you can see of his broadening smile makes it clear that he’s heard you enter. “Hello, my dear,” he murmurs. “I was wondering when you’d arrive.”

This is another thing you’ve gotten used to: being made to feel like you’re the guest, in your own bedroom. It drives you insane, but of course, you’ve never addressed it. And you’ve certainly never tried to drive him out before he was ready to leave. This little arrangement you have - truly, you’re not sure what to call it - can be unpleasant, at times, but it’s not unbearable. He never comes late at night, and never shows up when you have company (although how he always seems to know whether you have company, you’re not sure). He doesn’t seem to want anything more than your attention. 

It’s acceptable. Tolerable. And if you ever push back, you’re not sure what will happen, so you think it’s better to just leave things as they are. To let him come and go through your life as he pleases.

You’re coming closer than ever to saying something now, though, because this time he’s not just sitting at your desk, or standing idly somewhere in your room. He’s got your closet door open - and he’s rifling through the contents. Clearly, he’s been doing this for some time, because a large portion of your clothes are already lying in a heap on the floor behind him. As you watch, he tears another shirt off its hanger. A black camisole that you’d bought because it reminded you of something you’d worn often in life. A “going out top,” as your old friends had called it. He looks down with something like disgust, and drops it over his shoulder, where it flutters to the top of the pile.

“ Alastor…” You try to keep your tone even. Merely curious, instead of indignant. “What are you doing?” A bit of your anger slips through. It would be stupid to even hope that he didn’t notice.

“No need to be so hostile.” He slips another shirt from your closet and holds it up with both hands. “I’m doing you a favor.” He tugs on the sloped neckline of the delicate blouse in his hands, and a rip appears down the middle. “My mistake, dear.” 

Arguing, you think, would be a bad idea. But you really do need him to stop. “I liked that one.”

“ Hmm…well! I didn’t. I’m afraid it was a bit modern for my tastes.” He shakes his head, and turns around, dropping the shirt into the mess of other garments on the floor. He’s made it through a good chunk of your wardrobe - several pairs of pants and jeans, as well as a few accessories you’d grown fond of, are visible within the heap. “I mean no offense, of course. I only wish to help.”

You certainly do take offense, but there’s no point in addressing that directly. “They’re my clothes,” you say instead, very aware that you sound like an idiot. 

“Not anymore.” With a flourish of his hand, the pile disappears, leaving the floor bare. As well as your closet…as you carefully approach, you see that there’s almost nothing left inside. “You’ll thank me before long.”

It’s getting very hard to contain yourself now. “I bought those.”

“And I will be happy to provide some more… suitable replacements.” His image flickers in front of you - a moment later, he reappears by your side. It’s not the first time this has happened, either, but it makes you shudder every time. “To be entirely honest…” An odd twist of his neck brings his face directly in front of yours, nose nearly brushing your own. “I should have done this long ago.” He takes you by the shoulder, and guides you across the room to your dresser. “I’m nearly done already. Only a few drawers left to go.”

You stare up at him, hardening your gaze. Doing your best to sound confident, and not terrified of speaking up. “I want them back.”

“I’m afraid that’s not an option. What’s done is done.” He turns, and reaches for the handle of a drawer. The small one, in the top corner.

Oh. Your stomach knots as you realize which drawer, exactly, he’s about to open. You can’t, under any circumstances, let him see what’s in there. But your protest is so frantic that it’s barely comprehensible. “That one - don’t… ”

He laughs shortly, as if you’ve said something only mildly amusing. “You’re getting hostile again, my dear. You know I don’t appreciate that.”

In a panic, you blurt out the question that rises to the top of your head. It will distract him for a moment, if nothing else. “Why are you doing this?”

You realize immediately that this was a mistake. Questioning him is always a mistake.

But then again - you would like to know.

He pauses, the corner of his grin twitching upward. Eyes narrowing as his head swivels in your direction. “I’ve taken a liking to you, my dear.” He certainly doesn’t sound as if he likes you at the moment. His voice drips with condescension. “So when you do things, or have things, that I don’t like, I find it rather jarring.” He takes a deep breath. After he exhales, his eyes flash, and he continues in his usual lighthearted tone. “Taking those things away is quite a comfort to me.” 

His smile seems a touch more genuine now. Somehow, that makes it more unsettling. So much so that you freeze up for just a second too long. 

“Back to business, then.” He lashes out a hand, and yanks the drawer open. 

As soon as he peers inside, he goes rigid. You stiffen, as well, but certainly not for the same reason. You take a deep breath, trying to ignore the sharp static suddenly buzzing in your ears. “I told you…”

“No, you didn’t .” He dips a single finger into the drawer, and pulls out the garment on top by its strap, dangling it in midair and examining it. It’s black, like the shirt you’d walked in on him tossing earlier - but it’s certainly not designed for going out. Or for anywhere besides your bedroom. He stares at it for some time, until his silence becomes too much to bear. 

“You shouldn’t have”-

“My dear.” He laughs softly, more to himself than to you. “I’d really prefer you not tell me what I should or shouldn’t do.” His voice is sickeningly sweet, so fake that it’s painful to your ears, its conceit betrayed by the telltale twitch in his eye. “Now. Do tell me. What could have possessed you, to spend your hard-earned money on something like this ?” He tilts his head, and stares, clearly waiting for a response.

This question has no good answer, but some are worse than others, so you choose your words carefully. “It…I like how it looks?”

“Hm.” If he wasn’t grinning, as always, you’re sure he’d be grimacing instead. “I can’t say I understand.” He sets it down in the drawer for a moment, and carefully tugs off his glove. “Nor do I wish to.”

You watch in a mixture of mortification and horror as he takes hold of your lingerie once again, and snags his nails across the fabric, easily rending it to pieces. He drops the torn fabric carelessly to the floor, kicks it under your dresser, and pointedly wipes his hand on his sleeve before replacing his glove.

“Ah, well. No need to say anything more about it now.” His eyes trail to the remaining contents of the drawer. “I do hope that you’re not quite as fond of the rest.” He drops his hand over the pile, and a moment later, a soft green flame envelops it. For a moment, you panic, sure that your entire dresser is about to burn, but the flame disappears with the last of your lingerie, leaving not so much as a pile of ashes behind. 

You peer into the empty drawer, mouth ajar. “I really wish you hadn’t done that.” You’re probably getting into risky territory, but this mixture of embarrassment and irritation is becoming too much to bear. 

“Hm?” His eyes are gleaming. There’s something dangerous there, you think, something that you have to tread carefully around. “You didn’t get so worked up over the rest of your closet. Is this different to you?”

“You said you’d replace the rest,” you mutter, judging it to be the safest possible answer. The least likely to cause further embarrassment. “I doubt you’re going to make the same offer with…those.”

“Oh? Who says?” His eyes gleam, in that way they do when he gets an idea that no one around him is going to enjoy. “I’ll admit that I wasn’t planning on it…but those things clearly meant a lot to you. And I enjoy your company far too much to let something so small come between us.”

You think that you’d certainly like something to come between you and him. A wall, perhaps. Or a large metal gate. 

“So! If it’s a replacement you want, a replacement you shall have.” He sharply closes the drawer, and kicks at a strip of shredded black fabric that still protrudes from beneath your dresser. “It should be something that can be worn in bed, I suppose. But I prefer to interpret that in a more traditional sense. Something to be worn to sleep.” His head tilts dramatically, and somewhere far above your head, you think you hear a few notes of a slow, lilting song, piped in from many decades ago. “And I believe I have just the thing.” That intractable smile pulls back, just a fraction. “Let’s see what it looks like on you, shall we?”

You open your mouth to protest. But of course, you don’t manage to get a word out before he flicks his hand in your direction. 

When you look down, your previous outfit is gone. And in its place…well. Like Alastor said, there’s nothing lurid about it. It’s a slip of sorts, made of thin, silky off-white fabric that falls almost to your knees. Delicate enough that you wouldn’t wear it outside, but modest enough that you don’t feel entirely exposed. It’s something to be worn to bed, indeed. But not by you. There’s nothing you about it. The fabric itself appears brand new, but like all the things Alastor seems to appreciate most, the design clearly comes from long before your time.

You find, suddenly, that you don’t know how to hold yourself. How to act. Your arms hang awkwardly at your sides, feeling heavy as your fingertips skim the silk that surround your thighs.

You realize, after the moment of disorientation had passed, that Alastor is not acting like himself, either. He’s quiet. You were expecting mockery, some ridiculous comment that would make you melt into the ground - but it appears that the results of your transformation have caught him off guard.

There’s a creak on the floorboards to your right. A faint sigh. “I must say, my dear…” Alastor’s voice is softer than you expected, and almost devoid of the static filter that usually coats his words. “It suits you better than I could have imagined.”

You think that you’d prefer taunting to whatever this is. 

“I’d go so far as to say you look quite lovely.”

You keep your eyes downcast, not wanting to see his face just yet, and examine the finer details of the garment he’s cast upon you. It has narrow straps, and lace at the neckline, which is high enough to give nothing away. The hem is also lacy, and the cut is straight, not so much defining your curves as endeavoring to erase them as much as possible. Objectively speaking, it is quite pretty. But you’re left with the impression that you’ve strode into someone else’s closet, and departed wearing their clothes. 

“Don’t you agree?”

Slowly, hesitantly, you look up. Alastor’s eyes are fixed on you, shining a brighter red than you’ve ever seen. There’s nothing vulgar about the way he’s staring - but he’s not merely amused, either. Instead, he’s looking at you with rapt fascination, in much the way that one would contemplate a particularly exquisite piece of art in a gallery. 

“I’m…not sure.” You instinctively cross your arms, almost wishing that you saw a more crude impulse behind his eyes. That, at least, would be easier to understand. Instead, it’s something like appreciation - or pride. More of the latter. If you were merely a piece of art, you’d imagine that this would be how your creator would look at you, upon seeing you on display for the first time. 

“No need to hide.” He reaches forward, and touches you lightly on the wrist. It’s enough to send both of your arms falling to your sides. “You couldn’t even if you tried.” 

His smile, again, seems entirely too real. There’s nothing threatening about his tone. It’s even, charming. And yet…

He slips behind you, and his hand moves to your waist - a test, you think, to see if you’ll slap it away. “But I don’t think you’re planning on trying, are you?”

“No.” You’re surprised by how quickly the word comes out of your mouth, how breathless. It was an odd question, one that hinted at more than the subject in front of it, and seemed to demand an answer. 

His other hand joins the first on your waist, and he turns you around, so quickly that you almost stumble, his palms dancing lightly over your barely covered skin. When you’re facing him, one hand slides up, curling around your jaw and holding tight, keeping your gaze turned up towards his face. And it is a long way up - it’s almost embarrassing how small you are compared to him. He stares down, staying silent for much longer than you’re used to, his breathing just a touch heavier than usual. 

His fingers tighten over the silk at your waist, pressing into your skin, a small twitch of his hand pulling the fabric very slightly upwards. It barely moves the hem at all - less than an inch - but somehow leaves you feeling infinitely more exposed. You almost flinch away, but after just a moment, he lets go, all at once. In fact, he practically jerks his hands back, as if he’s only just become aware of what he’s doing, and doesn’t approve. His smile, all of a sudden, appears incredibly fragile. 

“Oh…” He laughs softly - it feels forced. “Forgive me, darling. I truly don’t know what came over me.”

You’re not quite sure, either. And as usual, you neither expect nor want an answer.

He steps to your side, leans slightly over you, both hands clasped behind his back. With what seems like some effort, he forces the usual lighthearted tone back into his voice. “You do want to keep it, don’t you?”

“Yes.” You’d prefer not to, you think, if this is the sort of reaction it draws out of him. But you can’t very well get rid of it, if he doesn’t want you to. And, you reassure yourself, just because you have it doesn’t mean you have to wear it.

“Good.” Again, overhead - but not so far overhead as last time - that lilting old melody falls into your ears. You have the odd impulse to cover them, but you force yourself to keep your hands at your sides. “It is getting late…I think you might as well keep it on, and get yourself all ready for bed.”

You’d like to push back. But all you can manage is a mute nod.

“Lovely.” He starts to raise his hand, as if to reach out and touch you again, but seems to think better of it. The hand falls, and disappears behind his back once more. “Sleep well, my dear.” Quickly, he turns on his heel, only calling out one final line before slipping out through your door. “You’ll see me again soon.”

You have no doubt that you will.

Alone in your room, you slowly approach the mirror that stands in the corner. Your reflection does not change your initial impression. You don’t look like yourself. You don’t like it. And it’s not like he’ll know if you take it off, change into something more comfortable…

Your eyes fall upon your nearly empty closet, and you remember that you don’t have anything more comfortable. Not anymore.

This is alright, you try to tell yourself. It’s just a piece of clothing.

Just a piece of clothing that you can’t imagine wearing for any other reason, or for anyone else. 

Your eyes fall upon the empty drawer in the top corner of your dresser, and trail over to your bed. Quickly, you drop your gaze to the floor. You realize, with a sigh, that it will be a long time before you have any company besides him in this room. In fact, it’s possible that you’ll never open your door for anyone again.

At the moment, doing so would feel far too much like allowing a guest into someone else’s home. 

#alastor x reader #yandere alastor #tw yandere #tw power imbalance

[adragonprinceswhore]

Whatever Interests You I Modern!Prince Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Smuffy Christmas December 25th I Masterlist

A request for Modern!Prince Aemond, such a lovely idea by @denimandcabernet 🩵 Thank you for sending this in!

Summary: You’re hired as a journalist to interview Prince Aemond Targaryen about his complicated family and their colonial past. Meeting the prince in person, he proves to be much more than the pompous royal you had imagined.

Prompt: Dry humping + Reaching out with their hand without saying anything

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, AFAB reader, modern!WesterosAU, reader is anti-monarchy, Aemond is not, bickering, debating, mentions of colonialism, aggressive kissing, dry humping; thigh riding

Word Count: 2900

Dividers by @saradika

Powdery snow swirls around your car as your tires disrupt the fresh layer decorating the road in mid-winter white. 

The closer you draw to the dragon-embellished facade of Dragonstone, the gloomier your surroundings appear, engrossed in the darkness of the island. The castle before you is massive; tall as a skyscraper despite being ancient. 

Your eyes widen in amazement as you observe the peculiar ways the stones twist. How many lives had been sacrificed to make this sinister monstrosity reality? 

You park, inhaling deeply before opening the door and finally facing the daunting setting for your most prominent interview yet. 

When your manager delegated the rare interview with the Prince of Dragonstone to you, it almost felt like a dream.

A surreal nightmare. 

He was infamous for his indifferent attitude and challenging counter-arguments, rendering most interviewers incoherent as they defeatedly attempted to discuss his academic career and extensive research. 

Despite Prince Aemond’s apprehension towards journalists, one of his duties as a prince of the realm was to indulge the public by talking about the work he’d conducted during the year that had passed. So, reluctantly, he’d invited the paper you work for to his residence, the ancient seat and stronghold of House Targaryen, Dragonstone. 

This would be your biggest assignment to date. Until now, you’d been entrusted with menial articles about which celebrity wore the best outfit at one of Tyland Lannister’s fundraisers, or what percent of alcohol Aegon II Targaryen’s blood reached as he was caught drink-driving. 

The fresh snow crisps under your winter boots as you walk the long, narrow walkway towards the black castle. You’d driven for hours, taking the ferry out to the island, almost throwing up your breakfast as the sea bobbed relentlessly beneath you.  

The castle looks just as intimidating up close; tall, dark and bewitching. The large front doors blend into the stony structure effortlessly, providing no indication as to where the entrance is located. 

You stand awkwardly in front of the imposing keep, snow still swirling around you, covering your silhouette in white. 

“Good day, miss”, a high-pitched voice greets you, startling you slightly as you turn to meet the gaze of a member of staff. 

“Hi”, you reply with a curt nod, unsure of the formalities required at a royal residence. 

“Let me escort you to the meeting room”, the member of staff swiftly offers before pushing the heavy doors open with both hands. 

The foyer that greets you embodies the Targaryen legacy. Dark, twisted stone representing a dark magic past provides the backdrop while the gem-filled gold candelabra and newly purchased artwork reflects their riches.  

You’re guided to a room not too far away; a lavish space with high ceilings and an impressive fireplace with two velvet-covered armchairs viewing it. 

“Please have a seat, miss. The prince will be with you shortly”. 

You fiddle with your recorder, pressing ‘play’ before placing it on the small table between your chair and the one next to you. You bring out your notepad and pen, eager to get through this ordeal as quickly as possible. 

You can’t decide what to do with your hands, folding them awkwardly in your lap, spine straight as a pole as you sit stiffly in the armchair, waiting for the prince to make himself known. 

You’d grown accustomed to the quietness of the room, leaving you slightly startled as a shrill voice calls out, “His Royal Highness, Prince Aemond Targaryen”. 

The member of staff that had announced his presence swiftly makes way for the prince as they dart out of the door they’d just opened, leaving you alone with the descendant of ancient royalty.  

Unsure of how to act in the company of nobility, you stand and offer him a rigid smile and nod before mumbling a stiff, “Your Highness”. 

He gives you a nod in reply, sitting down next to you without uttering a single word in greeting. 

After some silent moments passing between you, the tension proves unbearable, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to get started”. 

The prince merely hums in reply, turning his face to inspect you dispassionately for no longer than two seconds. His silver hair almost appears to sparkle as the dancing flames of the hearth reflect in his locks, eye on display a shade of lilac you’d hardly seen before. A personified vision of old Valyrian. 

“Tha-, thank you for meeting with me”, you begin unsteadily, inwardly cursing yourself for your lack of conviction in your tone. The words of your manager echo in your head: ‘first rule of being a good interviewer; confidence!’

Prince Aemond seems as appalled by your lack of self-assuredness as you are, clicking his tongue so silently that you almost miss it. But the sound of his disapproval still reaches your ears, ringing unpleasantly. 

“Many of our readers were thrilled to learn that we were granted the opportunity of speaking with the Prince of Dragonstone. We’re all eager to learn more about the research you’ve conducted this past year”, you state, voice growing more confident as you speak. 

He’s silent for longer than you’d deem socially acceptable before he answers, seeing eye set on the fire dancing before you, “I spent a few months in Essos this year, conducting research at the University of Volantis while aiding the faculty by working as a guest lecturer. A highly fruitful experience”, he answers, voice stoic, not betraying any feelings. 

Aiding the faculty by working as a guest lecturer? What a pompous ass. 

“And besides your time in Essos, how have you spent your leisure time this year?”, you pry, helplessly coaxing an interesting answer from the cold prince. 

Before being asked to conduct the interview, your management had made it clear that you needed to get something close to an interesting sentence from the royalty, even if it was just one line to put as the headline. 

Aemond doesn’t turn to face you. Nor does he provide you with an answer as he silently stares into the fire in front of you.

You twist your fingers resting in your lap as you try to keep the conversation going, “D-, Do you have any favourite films or-”, you lick your lips hastily before continuing, “um-, a favourite show? To watch during your free time, I mean”, you babble, persistent to get any headline-worthy answer out of him, even if it’s at the cost of your own dignity. 

He still doesn’t face you as he answers, “I don’t watch TV”. 

Of course he doesn’t.

Feeling your patience, and the small amount of sympathy you’d felt for him, slip away, you opt for a more direct approach, asking him the questions you’d been apprehensive to address. 

Fuck it. 

“I see. Then I assume you didn’t watch the televised arrest of your brother after he failed to appear in court?”, you ask, trying to gauge his reaction from his side profile. The leather eyepatch he wears obstructs most of your view, and besides a brief pull of his lips, you’d think he hadn’t heard you.

“That’s what you’d like to discuss?”, he scoffs, tone mocking and dismissing. If he’d just look at you, or engage in the tiniest bit of discussion with you, you’d be able to end the interview and go home. But he seems set on making this difficult for you. 

“I’d like to discuss whatever topic interests you, my prince”, you state, trying to suppress the irritation colouring your voice without much luck.

“Hm”

His non-answer tells you all you need to know. He’s already decided that you’re some air-headed journalist desperate for a juicy headline. He can’t even offer you the human decency of looking you in the face as he speaks to you. 

Why not stoop to his level?

You fall back against the backrest of the opulent armchair, eyes flickering over the fire that seems to demand all of the prince’s attention. 

The entire piece seems to be made of white marble, and by the legs stand two carefully constructed statues depicting a man and a woman. A stark difference from the dark stones that make up the castle. 

“These fireplace statues are magnificent.”, you muse aloud. 

“A rare colour for Old Valyrian antiques; white”, you state, ample emphasis on the last word. 

Aemond doesn’t move from his seat, but you assume that his eyes flicker to the figures as you mention them, “They’re not Valyrian”.

“Oh”, you feign shock. “Am I correct in assuming that they depict Hugor of the Hill and his wife?”, you ask after further inspection. 

“You’re familiar with the history of the Andals?”, You see a flash of silver in your peripheral vision as Prince Aemond finally snaps his head to the side to face you, the smallest hint of surprise evident in his voice. You keep your eyes on the marble carving. 

“It’s a famous tale”, you reply with a shrug. “And a cultural heritage. Seems like an odd display to have on an island dedicated to the worship of dragons”, you turn to face him, voice too sweet to be accusing but words still holding gravity.  

“These statues have been here for hundreds of years, a gift if I recall”, Aemond replies as his eyes narrow. You cannot tell if he enjoys the conversation or not, but at least he’s finally engaging. 

“A gift. And now a pretty sight for when you’re lounging by the fire”, you conclude, careful to keep the sweetness in your voice from disappearing. “Religious relics often hold more significant value than being merely decorative though. Well, maybe not to the Valyrian Prince of Dragonstone”. 

“You are aware that my mother is from house Hightower; the house that welcomed the Andals and the Faith of the Seven? I may be a Valyrian Prince, but I am equal parts a Hightower”. 

You cannot tell if the prince’s passion is a display of interest in the topic, or anger towards you for what you’re insinuating. Yet he keeps his gaze on you, patiently awaiting your response.

“Indeed you are. And how many parts Andal are you?”, you quib, biting your lip after speaking to hinder it from curling upwards. 

“You speak of the Andals like there’s anything left of them. Their culture and people died thousands of years ago”, Aemond dismisses you. Though his face hasn’t strayed too far from the stoic state it seemed to be set in, his narrowed eyes seem to urge you to continue; to question him further. 

“Mm”, you agree impassively, “Largely at the hand of Valyrian colonisers, if I remember correctly?” 

Again, the corners of his lips seem to twitch, “Did the Andals not ‘colonise’ the First Men?”

“Wasn’t it the threat of the Valyrian Freehold that sent them to Westeros in the first place?”, you retort before he’s barely done speaking, pulse high and heart drumming harshly in your chest. The debate you found yourself in was far more thrilling than you’d imagined your afternoon with the imperious prince would be. 

Aemond’s eye darts over your face before moving down, taking in the entirety of you as you lean towards him in your seat. He seems to ponder his reply, savouring the moment as your eyes try to meet his in confrontation. 

A sudden rap on the door throws the both of you back into reality. 

“Thank you for your time. The Prince needs to attend to other duties now”, the piercing voice of the member of staff calls, watching you expectantly as they nod their head towards you. 

You swiftly stand, gathering your things hurriedly before giving the prince a pathetic excuse for a curtsey, again unsure of the proper way to excuse yourself from royalty. 

He’s back to observing the fire, not getting out of his seat to offer you a goodbye. 

Prick.

You let the member of staff lead you back to the foyer, both of you coming to a halt as the large stone doors open. The snow that had been lightly swirling in the winds now obscures most of your vision as you try to spot your car in the sea of frozen water. 

“Best not to drive when the snow falls this heavily, the winds make it hard to see the road”, a low voice warns behind you matter-of-factly, “Thank you for your hard work, you’re excused”, Aemond continues, addressing the staff member who disappears as quickly as they’d appeared mere minutes ago. 

“I’m sure I’ll be fine”, you assure him, moving to take your coat from the hanger by the door. Before your hand makes contact with the rough wool, it’s enveloped in warmth as Aemond’s palm catches yours. 

“Don’t be dumb”, he says with a click of his tongue, pulling you further into the foyer. 

You're caught off guard by the hastiness of his action, following him towards the opposite end of the large space. 

Just as abruptly as he’d grabbed your hand he releases it, standing imposingly close as he looks down his nose at you, “Now’s your chance. Ask me something else”.

Your eyes are wide, eyebrows drawing together slightly as you meet his gaze. 

Not being given an answer, or a witty retort, seems to agitate him. His lilac eye hardens as he elicits you further, “Did you get enough dirt on my family to generate an interesting story?”

Now it’s your turn to scoff at his cheap shot, “I wouldn’t call asking people in power how they spend tax-payers money ‘dirt’”.

Something flutters in his eye, resembling the white part of a flame, “You anti-monarchists never seem to appreciate how much we do for the Seven Kingdoms”

He takes a daunting step towards you. You step back in reflex. 

“When your democratically elected politicians, who barely passed secondary school, speak ill of Yi-Ti’s prime minister, jeopardising one of Westeros’ most prominent economic partners, who is it that flies there to take part in some actual diplomacy, without constant politicking?”, he sneers, eye unblinking. 

He takes another step towards you, forcing you to back into the wall behind you. 

“According to the Journal of Interstate Cooperation, my mother’s diplomatic visits to Pentos last year prevented a possible travel ban for Westrosians after a democratically elected politician’s unsavoury comments about Pentoshi women”

He takes another step, pushing you up towards the cold stone against your back. 

“Do you understand that when King Jaehaerys reformed Westeros into a parliamentary monarchy, he did so for the people”, his voice is suddenly lower than before; rougher, “The Targaryens have held power for hundreds of years, we’ve been leaders for all of modern time”.

You meet his gaze, eyes narrowing in challenge as you refuse to succumb to his scare tactics. He’s standing so close to you that you can feel his breath on your face, tickling the delicate skin of your lips. 

“Any dynasty eventually meets its end. The Targaryens are long overdue”

Before you have a chance to gauge his reaction to your words, his face ducks down to press a harsh kiss against your unsuspecting lips. 

His mouth is hot, a welcomed contrast to the chill winter breeze passing through the room. One of his hands grabs your chin tightly to keep you close to him, the other moving to your hair to thread your locks between his fingers. 

You let out a muffled moan as he lightly pulls your hair, allowing his tongue entrance to your mouth, determined to explore every drop of spit hiding in your warmth. 

Your hands fly to his shoulders, clumsily grabbing the fabric of his shirt to ground yourself as he devours you; consuming your breath and your senses. 

He brings one of his legs between yours, steadily swaying in tandem with the enthralling pace of his mouth, grip on you still too tight for you to do anything but to obey his commands. 

Aemond’s strong thigh urgently presses against your bundle of nerves, causing you to moan into his mouth. The constant back-and-forth between you seemed to have been nothing but an elaborate kind of foreplay, leaving the two of you insatiable as Aemond presses you against the cold stone wall, forcing you to ride his thigh. 

The pressure inside you builds faster than you thought yourself capable of, the muffled moans leaving your mouth increasing as the ​​crescendo of your pleasure approaches.

Aemond finally allows you air as he releases your mouth, prompting you to let out a bliss-filled cry as his thigh continues to press against your clit. 

The corners of his mouth flicker upwards again as he takes in your desperate state, eyes reflecting the smugness he doesn’t allow on his lips. 

The pace of his thigh falters just as you’re about to peak, and the denial causes you to rock yourself against his thigh hopelessly, chasing the release fleeting away. 

Aemond abruptly steps back, robbing you of his warmth and the peak that’s left your core throb in desperation. His face moves to the side, observing the winds outside. 

“Looks like the snow has calmed”, he states, tone back to its previous stoic state despite your breathlessness, 

“You’re dismissed”

A/N: Thank you for reading! I have a horrible headache rn so my proof-reading might not be the best 🩵

Everything taglist: @humanpurposes @theoneeyedprince

Smuffy Christmas taglist: @fan-goddess @moonlightfoxx

#I couldn’t find a fitting gif so I made a header instead 🤭 #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen drabble #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd fanfic #aemond stannies #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen x oc #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen fluff #my fics #Smuffy Christmas Event

[hyper-fixated-delusions]

Sleepless in the Compound.

Wanda Maximoff x Avenger Stark fem!reader.

A/N: I hope you enjoy and I apologize for any mistakes! Also comments, reblogs, shares and likes are super appreciated, thank you! :)

Word count: 944.

Masterlist.

Wanda had just made it to the compound after a week long mission, exhaustion clearly present on her entire being as she walks from the hangar to the bedroom she shared with you.

It being well past midnight she expected nothing less than for you to be sleeping. Heart soaring at the prospect of being to able to be in your arms once again after being apart for so long.

But as the redhead makes it to the hall of your sleeping quarters, she hears thuds coming from inside the room and her eyes turn red, wisps of magic coming out of her fingers in cation.

As she nears the door slowly, she continues hearing the ruckus coming from inside and she sends the door flying open only to see you dancing around the room, occasionally attempting to do a cartwheel, music blaring from the large headphones you’re wearing, the sight causing amusement to Wanda.

Slowly as to not startle you, your girlfriend approaches. “Hello?” Wanda begins as you continue moving about, too quickly for you to even notice another person in the room. “Baby? Y/N?” The redhead says, as you stand with your back facing towards her, letting Wanda put her hands on your shoulders to get your attention.

“Jesus Christ!” You exclaim, pulling the headphones into your hands as your turn around, jumping up in fear, the scare causing you to light the object on fire.

“Oh my god, babe! Put it out!” Wanda exclaims as well, startled by your powers.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just- you scared me,” you say, slightly panting as ice shoots out of your hands to extinguish the fire.

“I called you, but you were doing, well honestly, god knows what,” Wanda chuckles, “what are you doing up anyway? I expected you to be asleep by now.”

“Usually I would be asleep but, you know how my brother always likes to complains about being the only Avenger that doesn’t sleep well and how even when something comes up no matter how sleep deprived he is he always manages to have the complete focus that I lack and all that bullshit, you know how it goes. Well… while you were gone he was getting on my nerves, so to shut him up, we sort of made a bet,” you say grinning widely, bouncing on your toes as your arms encircle Wanda’s waist.

“Oh no, what did you do?” The redhead asks, an amused smirk on her face as she places her hands on your shoulders to stop your movements.

“Sorry,” you mutter sheepishly, “I’m like really energized, but also really tired because well I haven’t slept. But anyway, I made a bet with Tony!” You grin, Wanda tilting her head so you can provide more information, “I bet him that I could last awake longer than his record of 36 hours in exchange for an all paid, week long trip to Hawaii for our anniversary next month!” You say, bouncing in your spot once again in excitement. “We’ve been dating for almost 3 years and we hardly ever have time to do something this big. I love the beach, you love the beach and if I win we get one week of no interruptions, paid by Tony, so I'm trying to win here baby,” you smile, “also I was like, you’re so on, you know, cause I can never back out of a bet, but isn’t it great?” You ramble and Wanda chuckles.

“That's great babe, but how much longer do you have to be up? Because this mission was exhausting and I was really looking forward to relaxing with you. I want nothing more than to get into that bed with you and sleep my love,” the redhead pouts.

“Uh, sorry, but I can't do that just yet Max, I have to stay awake.” You say, pressing a quick kiss to her pouty lips, “but don't worry once Friday hits, I win and I'm all yours. We can relax and sleep all you want! Then we get ready to go on a vacation next month, for a week, for free,” You beam and Wanda’s eyes widen.

“Y/N/N,” she begins slowly, “when’s the last time you slept?”

“On Wednesday it’ll be 48 hours since I’ve been awake,” you reply, moving away from Wanda as you now attempt to do a backflip.

“Y/N, what the fuck!” The redhead exclaims in shock, “you need to get some sleep now! It’s Friday, detka! Oh my god! You won, now get some rest!” Your girlfriend says, eyes full of worry.

Wanda’s outburst and the revelation of the day has your body thudding on the floor and you look up at your girlfriend with wide eyes, “wait, are you serious?” You ask, smile wiped off your face, “I’ve been awake for 4 days?” You say slowly as Wanda cautiously nods. “Oh my god,” you whisper and your girlfriend kneels down beside you.

“Hey baby, are you okay?” The redhead asks, green eyes inspecting your features as you lay on the floor.

“Am I okay?” You begin slowly, “am I okay?” You repeat a little louder, suddenly jumping up with a smile on your face. “Of course I’m okay, I beat Tony! Holy shit, we’re going to Hawaii baby!” You exclaim pulling a surprised Wanda off the ground to pull her into a happy kiss, “I have to go tell him and rub it in his dumb stupid face!” You say, pulling away from a still shocked Wanda to run out of the room your voice booming through the compound as you yell, “oh Tony, you big loser, where are you?”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff fluff #marvel #stark reader #tony stark #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff x fem reader #wanda maximoff blurb #Wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda marvel #Sleepless in the Compound

[abibliophobiaa]

Chapter Two: Miscommunication

summary: times goes on, and so do you. but what happens when you bump into the one person you thought you would never see again? (6k words)

eddie munson x pregnant!reader || strangers to friends to lovers, unplanned pregnancy, and then they were roommates, forced proximity.

warnings: sickness (r morning sickness); mention of drugs; mention of child abuse.

mini series masterlist

previous chapter || next chapter

——

Life didn’t magically stop merely because Eddie had ended up being completely different than who you thought he was. Still, nothing quite eased the ache of knowing you’d foolishly trusted another person who’d only gone and let you down. And even so, you quarreled daily with the fact Eddie didn’t really owe you or this baby anything. He’d done as you’d asked; he’d provided an outlet that afternoon, had loved you in the dark — for a little while. You often fought the urge to blame yourself for believing the front he’d put on. The whole ‘I don’t do this often.’

Because apparently he had, based on the fact he’d needed you to remind him more than once who you were. It wasn’t like it was often one found a woman dressed in a Princess Buttercup costume, and then proceeded to go back to a hotel with said woman.

You could do this on your own. Had convinced yourself of as much when you’d started looking for places to move. The only thing was…the city proved to be expensive. It had been one thing having joint salaries when you’d lived with Paul to help cover the cost of rent. Now you had another eventual mouth to feed, a baby to clothe in a few months time, and other expenses to think about like diapers and car seats and furniture.

Two weeks after you’d told Eddie about the baby and he’d essentially shot you down, you’d gotten a phone call from Robin Buckley. You had spent years together in acting classes at your college in the city a few years ago. Became fast friends back in the day and still kept up with one another. It just so happened, when you’d caught her up on life, that she had a basement apartment at her friend Steve’s place that he and his wife, Chrissy, rented out to her. Side entrance, privacy, and apparently a pull out couch in the living area that you could crash on until you found an apartment of your own.

You hated the idea of putting her out like that, but she insisted. And soon enough you shared teary goodbyes in Micah’s living room, her arms around your form, as Jeremiah clapped you on the back. They both wished you well and promised to call, and you hopped in the car and watched as the city faded into nothingness behind you.

Cityscapes and towering buildings turned into endless trees and charming Mom and Pop shops. Busy intersections became citizens walking their dogs and running on side streets. It even smelled different, the air cleaner and crisper somehow, not bogged down by car fumes and smoke.

The Harrington home was beautiful. Large, imposing walls. Gorgeous interior filled to the brim with countless photos of Chrissy and Steve throughout the years. Married for the past two of them, and sickly in love judging by the way they answered the door together, Steve’s arm around his wife, with Chrissy bouncing a baby girl with sandy blonde hair on her hip as you’d entered.

The immediate thought of Eddie’s dark hair knocked the wind out of you — the realization your own child might have his hair. Dark ringlets, and chocolate brown eyes. You hated that you even cared. It had been one night, and even if it had changed nearly everything for you, it meant nothing to him. He’d made that part very clear.

That first evening spent in Hawkins was done so around their dinner table. Steve had put together some pasta and meatballs, and you all chatted about your lives. You, and your old job, of which Steve snapped his fingers together immediately and suggested you come work at the high school where they’d needed some help in the library.

Robin seemed so hopeful for you, eyes shining as he told you, “See — it’s all gonna work out, babe. I told you.”

The apartment itself wasn’t large or anything. An open space for the most part, with a connected living room and kitchen. Robin had the closed off bedroom, and there was a makeshift bathroom with a small shower stall inside, and not nearly spacious enough. But it would do for now, and was way more than you could have ever hoped for or expected.

Your first purchases had been some clear tote boxes to keep stored away under your pullout bed. One for your clothes, one for the clothes you thrifted for the baby, and one for the miscellaneous items here and there like toiletries, diapers, your shampoos and conditioners and make up. It wasn’t much, and you’d likely run out of room soon, but it worked for now.

Those first two weeks passed in a blur. As promised, Steve was able to get you in for an interview at the high school library. It paid well enough, came with health insurance, and time off for maternity leave — though you didn’t know how they knew you’d need it, but you’d like to thank them if you ever found out. As you exited, you happened upon Steve and Chrissy’s awaiting stares, her excited giggling bursting to life when you’d said you were hired and would start that following Monday.

Later, as you all shared yet another celebratory dinner — this time for your new job position — and your baby decided it definitely didn’t like meatloaf, you stumbled into Chrissy on your way out of the bathroom, the back of your hand pressed to your mouth. Her eyes were soft as she led you back over to sit on the edge of the shower and fumbled around in her cabinet for something wrapped in a tiny package.

“Apparently ginger helps with the nausea,” she explained as your eyes widened at the wrapped candy settled in your palm. Confusion lined your furrowed brows and she continued, “For the morning sickness.”

“Oh — I-I’m…”

“It’s okay, you know. I kind of figured it out right away. Steve says I have a sense for these things.” She settled down on the toilet beside you, her knee knocking against the outside of your jean-clad thigh. “Is the father not…”

“No.” It came out as a shaky exhale, heart thumping loudly in your ears. “He’s not around, no. It’s just us.”

“Then you’ll stay,” she urged, reaching across your lap to clasp her hand around yours. “For as long as you need, okay?”

Life settled into a new normalcy. You went to work every morning, waved to your new coworkers as you passed, and began learning the names of the dozens of kids that would filter in and out of the library. And during your lunch breaks, you’d often walk around the track with Steve, talking to him about your day, his day, the weather. Trivial things, but it brought you comfort. A sense of familiarity in the unfamiliar you found yourself in.

The holidays, though different this year, were spent with people who wanted the best for you. Chrissy and Steve had been kind enough to buy you a basket of things for the baby, and Robin had as well, trying to lighten the burden however they could.

It was right around that time you’d learned Steve not only had Melody as a daughter, but a gaggle of twenty-something’s that Robin joked he’d been something of a mother hen to. They welcomed you into the fold without question, excited to have a new friend in their close-knit group.

It was also during those initial weeks you’d spent hours talking to Micah and Jere about how you really thought this was the best decision for your life right now. That you needed this change. And they promised to come visit often when you had your own place, especially since Micah insisted she planned on ‘spoiling the hell out of her niece or nephew.’

Soon enough, unfamiliar streets became solidified in your memory. You learned the best coffee shops and the shortest routes to get places you needed to go. You realized the next door neighbor, Tabitha, always walked her dogs at two in the afternoon and waved as she passed every time. That Pete down the street had the freshest veggie garden every spring and summer, and he promised he’d give you his extras when the seasons got warmer. You even enjoyed your coworkers. Appreciated their presence and help as you acquainted yourself with the school setting, and looked out for you like you'd been there for years.

Hawkins became a home. You didn’t know how or when, but it had. And it was then you finally allowed yourself to pause in front of your bathroom mirror one evening. To stop and stare at the reflection there, turning to the side, curiously tracing the space presently unchanged. Tried to imagine your empty arms being full in a few months, tried to imagine their little face. Tiny hands and little toes, the only person who knew what your heart sounded like from the inside.

They’d be yours and they’d be happy, growing up in a place where they’d only know love, and that’s all you ever wanted.

——

As the weeks progressed and 1994 bled into 1995, you progressed. Eyes drifted in supermarkets, trailed over the girl with no husband in tow. A bunch of close-minded town folk. Mother’s seemed to eye you wearily as you walked, children tugged closer to their side. Whispered when your back was turned to friends, asking quietly if you were simply gaining weight only in your middle of if you had some sort of scandalous secret, reaching up to grab canned soup or Robin’s favorite snacks.

It happened to be the only thing you didn’t like about Hawkins. The fact your business quickly became everyone else’s business. It was bad enough that you worked with teenagers these days. Many of whom preferred coming into the library lately to merely talk to someone they saw as closer in age, and therefore their personal information dump. You gave little more than properly timed nods and gentle reassurances, before you wished them on their way back to whatever classes they seemed intent on skipping.

Luckily, as the holidays came and went, you had the fortune of your increasingly close knitted friend group that consisted of Steve, Chrissy, and Robin — as well as the youngest Harrington, Melody.

Melody with her bright laughter and wispy curls, who reminded you constantly of who you were doing this all for. Uprooting your life, making changes, doing what you wanted to for once. That same little presence that had made itself more prominently known those weeks, current jeans swapped for ones you thrifted at the local store that accommodated the small bump that had decided would no longer be confined to your old clothes. That same little presence your thumb brushed over as you stood in the cereal aisle with Robin and held aloft a box, asking if you needed anymore back at the apartment.

“I mean, we already have two boxes, babe,” she said, shrugging, “but if you’re craving it, buy it. I don’t wanna mess with those angry hormones or whatever you got going on right now.”

“I don’t get angry.” The petulant pout on your lips spoke otherwise.

“You cried when I drank the last of the coffee the other morning —”

“That’s different,” you grumbled, tossing the box into the shopping cart. “I think we got everything. Is there anything else that you can th —”

“Robin Buckley in the flesh. Get your ass over here right now, I missed you so fucking much.”

You stiffened on the spot, heart clenching tight within your chest. You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think, couldn’t move, couldn’t utter a word. The voice had come from behind you, but the realization dawned instant. The timbre of it, the inflection of his words, the jovial nature and affection lacing the sentiment toward your friend.

And Robin understood. You watched as clarity drained her features, a sickly pale color overtaking her cheeks. As her mouth dropped open and she glanced over your shoulder to offer him a smile. You’d never told your friends much about the father. Hadn't even so much as uttered his name once since he’d hung up the call. Had only said he’d been someone you knew briefly and never saw again. Someone who’d known about the baby, and yet wanted nothing to do with it, sparing you from further heartbreak in some ways by rejecting you both outright. Now he was here, standing behind you in the cereal aisle in Hawkins, no longer in California.

With the tip of your head, you muttered, “I’m fine. Go say hi.”

Head bowing over the railing of your shopping cart, you listened as Robin and Eddie’s laughter filled the aisle. As he likely picked her up and spun her around, based on the sudden thump of feet you heard a short while after.

“And who is your friend here?” he asked, stepping closer to you. And when you turned, he stiffened, voice a little high and tight as he choked, “Buttercup?”

“It’s me,” you offered weakly, feeling very much like you’d stepped into an episode of The Twilight Zone. “Guess you’re back from California.”

The words came out harsher than you intended. Barbed in a way that felt unfamiliar to you. Especially with Robin standing uncomfortably in the distance, shifting on the balls of her feet, eyes dancing between the two of you like she didn’t know who she should focus her attention on solely.

“And you’re…here. In Hawkins,” he murmured, sounding a little breathless, hand reaching out to touch like he thought you might float away into the wind before his eyes. You didn’t even think he noticed what he was doing, but you stepped back all the same, an arm coming to cross over your chest, head angling away from him. “I, uhm. Sorry, sorry — can we talk?”

Hurt seared anew in your chest, eyes meeting Robin’s briefly. The other woman shrugged, and you faced Eddie once more. “I don’t know what we could possibly —”

“Five minutes,” he offered, biting at his bottom lip. “Just…five minutes.”

“I’ll go up front to check out. Give me the car keys,” Robin said, just as your resolve crumbled a bit and you dipped your head curtly. You did as told and she flashed you a weak smile, pushing the cart along. Her head whirled around. “Don’t forget you have an appointment soon. I’ll come get you if you’re still talking after five minutes.”

“Thanks, Rob. We won’t be long, don't worry.”

You waved, following Eddie out the sliding front doors to the supermarket, stomach lodged high in your throat.

——

Of all the things you imagined he might say if you saw him again, “You know, I really hoped you’d call,” was definitely not one of them. And it was exactly what he’d said as you stepped out into the street, tugging your winter coat tighter to your body to block out the chill in the air.

Hot anger pooled in your veins. Fists balled up at your sides. Those angry hormones Robin spoke of? You felt them building at his statement, forming a cyclone of whirling emotion, anger like acid on your tongue as you snapped back, “Are you kidding me? I did call you, Eddie. I fucking called you to tell you I was pregnant and you hung up on me. I can’t believe you just said that. You know, I already thought you were an asshole, but that took the —”

You’d started walking away from him, wanting to run back inside the store and pretend this whole ordeal had never happened. Five minutes had been a joke, you’d only made it thirty seconds before he’d gone and opened his mouth and infuriated you further than you already had been toward the man.

But then you heard it. The choked whoosh of breath, the wobbly, “What did you just say?”

There was another sharp inhale of breath. Staggered, like he’d suffered through it, his palm coming to rest over his sternum. Fear propelled you toward him, a hand coming to rest over his back as he hunched forward a bit, trying to catch his breath.

“Eddie…what’s happening right now?” Your voice was so quiet you worried he might not have heard you over the harsh gasps he tried to draw into ragged lungs.

Something like a moaned curse ripped from his lips and he dropped down into a crouch, back against a lamppost, seemingly the only thing holding him upright. You got down on your knees in front of him, rubbing along the taut muscles of his shoulders, tensed in his panic.

“Hey…” you whispered, completely confused as to what the hell was going on. And yet, he looked so broken, forehead on his knees, arms around his shins, trying to get a hold of himself. “Deep breaths, okay? Follow me.”

He listened to your words as you coached him through a few deeper breaths. Watched as his shoulders loosened up, as his lungs started to expand further, and the wheezing died down into a quiet whisper. Finally, he looked upward — at you, at your face, and your own breath faltered. Watery, his eyes were watery and you could see the confusion there. The unfathomable and unimaginable hurt.

“Why…why does it seem like this is the first time you’re…hearing this…”

“Because it is, god damn it,” he groaned. “Did you really think — you thought — I wouldn’t have —”

“I don’t really even know you,” you retaliated, following after him as he shot up and began walking the opposite direction of the store you’d come from. “Will you slow down?!”

“Should I be concerned that there’s a woman chasing you across the parking lot, Munson?” Robin barked out a laugh, pushing your shared cart along the parking lot, stopping when she reached where you presently stood, watching Eddie walk back and forth, still trying to gather himself. To you, she whispered, “Is he okay?”

“I’m…I’m not sure,” you said, frowning when he turned back around and brushed the back of his hand along his eyes, then glanced down at your midsection, hidden behind the layers of your now zipped jacket. “Hey, Eddie? I think we need to go somewhere and talk.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, nodding, those curls around his shoulder bobbing with the movement, “yeah, I think we can start there.”

“I have an hour before my doctor’s appointment,” you told him, then glanced at Robin. “If Eddie drives me to the diner, can you drive my car? And I can always walk to my doctor’s office.”

“I’m not making you walk in the cold.” Eddie shook his head. “I’ll — I can drop you off or something.”

Robin took your keys hesitantly, eying you both once more. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Robin asked you quietly. At your nod, she added, “This doesn’t sound like Eddie if he’s who I’m thinking he is. He’s a good guy, babe. Just…maybe hear him out, okay? No angry hormones.”

“No angry hormones,” you promised, and watched as Eddie and Robin loaded up your trunk with the groceries you bought.

Once your friend pulled out of the parking lot, it was time for you to climb into Eddie’s van. He rushed around to open the door for you, and held a hand out as you clambered up on in, heart thudding at the fleeting contact with the man after two months without. Hated that even now you felt that immediate rush, the jolt in your system that you’d felt that night.

He hopped in on the other side and watched your face as you angled your head over your shoulder at the back of the vehicle. Your yet unvoiced immediate thoughts as you took in your surroundings were quieted by his rapidly uttered, “I…can make it safer. For —” He glanced down again, “well, you know.”

Uncomfortable silence settled over the vehicle, the gentle hum of whatever music Eddie had put on immediately lowered when you jolted to life at the first blaring notes that spilled out. Scenery fluttered on by as your forehead pressed against the glass window, fingers curled into a fist on your lap, tension roiling in your form.

The diner appeared out of the corner of your eye, its neon glowing sign declaring they were open twenty four hours catching your eye as you dropped down from the passenger side door and joined Eddie on the sidewalk. He opened the door for you as you both approached and helped pull out a chair, that boyish smile on his face you so vividly remembered playing on his lips as he dropped down across from you and asked the nearest waitress for some water and a set of menus.

“I just want a giant plate of fries,” you groaned, practically tasting them in all their potatoey goodness.

“And a plate of fries for the lady, please!” Eddie called out just before the waitress slipped out of earshot. “I…it’s good to see you. You look great.”

“You too.” Your fingers balled up your straw wrapper, rolled it along the table mindlessly. “So, I guess we should rip the bandaid off and start at the beginning?”

“Beginning is good.”

“About a month after we’d been together I started feeling sick. So naturally I went to the doctor and, well, surprise.” You gestured vaguely to your form. “That’s when I called you. Or I thought I did? But the look on your face back there….Eddie, I’m so sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” He laughed, a dark sounding laugh that made your fingers twitch around your glass, refraining from reaching over to comfort the man. “You tried to tell me. Fuck — I’m going to find out who it was. But you have to know I’d never just…abandon my kid. Please know that. I might be scared as shit, but I wouldn’t abandon them like that. Wouldn’t abandon their mother like that either.”

“So you’re okay with it?” Fear gripped your chest, head lifting to look at him over the top of your glass of water. “Because you’re oddly calm about this at the moment and I just want to remind you this isn’t some kind of thing someone can half commit to. I — we have at least eighteen years ahead of us.”

“I understand that,” he said earnestly, an edge of harshness to his tone. His eyes narrowed a bit. “My dad was a piece of shit. I’m not about to follow in his footsteps.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurted, swallowing thickly, “I didn’t mean to insinuate anything by it. I’m just —”

“You’re a mother, I get it.”

It was the first time someone acknowledged it. The first time maybe you’d even acknowledged it. A mother; you were a mother. Not going to be — a present state.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

“I…I want to be there. In any way that I can. I know you’re doing most of the work right now, but I want you to know I’m here.” He exhaled deeply, hand coming to swipe over his jaw, rubbing gently. “I want to be here. For you,” he glanced down, “and them.”

“Okay. I guess we’re doing this.”

“We’re doing this,” he agreed.

Silence settled over the two of you as a waitress appeared with your drinks and the plate of fries you decided you might as well share with Eddie. You wanted it to be awkward. Wanted it to be stilted, but he was just as charming as the night you’d first met him. Boisterous laughter, jokes that made your sides hurt, wide grins that made something swoop low in your belly.

“How was California?”

“Good — warmer than here at least. We recorded the album and we’re really happy with the result. It’s very true to our roots, which is what we wanted,” he said, tossing another fry into his mouth. “We might do a tour, but we have a year. Which…works out, given our current circumstances. Just how pregnant are you right now anyway?”

“Four months,” you told him, sipping at your water.

“How are you feeling?”

“Uhm, in the beginning I was really sick. But luckily the past couple of weeks have been better,” you explained, offering him a smile when he grimaced. “I have pictures. I’ve kept copies in my bag…it’s silly, I know. Do you want to see them?”

“Can I?” He pressed his fist to his mouth as you slipped your hand into your pocketbook and fished out the small black and white images of varying stages throughout the past couple of months. You laid the first one in front of him, laughing as he squinted to try and figure out what exactly he was looking at. “It looks like a bean.”

“It kind of was. That was the first appointment,” you told him, handing him the most recent one after. “And this is my most recent appointment.”

His fingers glided over the curve of the spine. The shape of the head. Marveled at it with glassy eyes, your fingers curling over the leather of his jacket, right around his wrist to offer him some modicum of comfort. Allowed him to have a moment to let it all sink in. It had to be overwhelming. It had been, and still often was, for you to sit down and really accept that all of this was real.

He’d only had minutes to accept the news that his life as he knew it had changed, you had months.

“We should leave for my appointment soon,” you said, tucking away your napkin on the table.

“Would it be weird if I asked to come?” he asked, sounding so hopeful, younger than you knew him to be.

“It’s not weird. I mean, they’re half you, right?” you told him, watching him sign his signature on the receipt handed over by the waitress in passing before tucking it away. “But, uh, sure. Yeah.”

He lifted the picture of his unborn baby once more, grinned to himself, thumb brushing over the curve of their head. “Thank you.”

——

Father.

Eddie Munson hadn’t really ever had a good example of what that word stood for. For him, ‘father’ was the man who only came around every so often to ask his mother for money when she’d been alive. For drugs, to get himself out of a horrible situation, to try and pay a bill. For Eddie, father was the guy who taught him how to hotwire a car, the man who gave him his first black eye, someone who blamed his son for his every lot in life.

But as he grew, father became morning coffees with Wayne outside as the sun rose high over Hawkins. It meant putting up a Christmas tree around the holidays that looked more like a bush with lights than anything else. It meant learning how to fix cars with his hands, encouraging words to get him through high school, a call late at night when he was out of town working on his dreams of making music.

Right now, father was the word the technician had used when she asked you to confirm who he was to the baby when he sat down in that little office with you. It was the word she used when she asked him to fill out paperwork on his history, the word his soul screamed at him when he finally heard that tiny heartbeat working overtime.

His little ‘Party Favor’ he’d teased as you both walked back out toward the van after scheduling your next ultrasound. Twenty weeks, the big one, they’d told you both.

“Please don’t call our baby a party favor ever again,” you’d grumbled as you hoisted yourself up into the passenger seat, but he knew from the smile tugging at your lips when he settled down on the driver’s side that you hadn’t meant it.

“Where are you staying these days?” he asked, thumb curling around the steering wheel. “So I can drive you home.”

He hadn’t expected you to rattle off Steve’s address, but when you did, his eyes widened and you immediately asked, “Do you know where that is?”

“Kind of,” he said, turning his head to take in your pretty features. While he knew it probably wasn’t the best time to be admiring you as such, you looked so damn breathtaking his stomach twisted with it, “seeing as he’s my best friend.”

“Why am I not surprised? This day just keeps getting weirder.” You laughed, staring out into the streets as a gentle snow began to fall. “I happen to move to your hometown, where I also happen to then move into your best friend’s house.”

“I didn’t know you knew Robin.”

“It’s a small world.”

“And apparently getting smaller,” he said, eyes ahead on the road as he pulled out of the parking lot. “Thank you. For letting me come.”

The answer was silence. You’d curled up against the car door, forehead against the glass, mouth parted gently, lashes flush against the tops of your cheeks. His eyes drifted downward, to where your pocketbook rested next to your hip and your arm curled over your middle. Peaceful, you looked so peaceful — just like that night you’d spent together, where he’d watched as your eyes had started to flutter closed halfway through the movie and he’d held his breath as you rolled over and sought out the heat of his body.

He hadn’t lied. He didn’t have nights like those often. Had never even intended to go to that party that night. He’d only gone because the rest of the guys wanted to get out of the hotel for a bit and ended up rushing to put together a costume with less than a day’s notice. You’d sat at that bar, hunched over and bored and he’d been curious. He just never expected you to turn around, nor had he expected spending hours laughing with you over your drinks, or finding yourselves twisted in bedsheets.

And so much changed in a short four months. A stranger — you were mostly a stranger and now you were having his kid. Today, you’d been an acquaintance? A friend? He wasn’t sure what to think about it all. He still hadn’t fully processed the fact he would be a father in a few months to an innocent human being. Something so impressionable and his to raise.

He supposed that was also a conversation for another day. Something else to ponder after he dropped you off for the night and laid down for bed. Sighing, he shifted the car into park and glanced up at the front porch lamp hanging on the front of Steve Harrington’s doorway. He waved as Chrissy poked her head through the front curtains and noticed your sleeping form in the front seat.

Steve appeared in the doorway next, baby Melody on his hip as Eddie dropped down out of the van and rushed around the vehicle. “Say hi to Uncle Eddie,” Steve called out, holding up the baby’s hand in a little wave.

He waved back at the girl with a beaming gummy smile and tugged the door open, catching your shoulder as you rolled against the seatbelt a bit, eyes jolting open. “Hey, hey. You fell asleep, it’s just me.”

Your eyes searched his face in the night, and his heart lurched at the way they softened in recognition. “I’m sorry. You were talking and that was so rude of me I —”

“All good. I’m glad you got some sleep,” he chuckled, holding out a hand as you dropped down from the front seat and wobbled a bit before steadying yourself. “We’re here.”

The two of you made your way into the household, varying degrees of curious stares gliding over your forms as you stepped through the threshold. The first of which being Chrissy, who seemed unsure whether she wanted to keep her eyes on him or you.

“So you two have met it seems,” Steve said, “guess we don't have to get introductions out of the way.”

“We’ve met,” you muttered quietly, dipping your head as you yawned. A hand splayed over your midsection and Eddie watched the trail of your gaze stop on him. “Thanks for driving me today. I’m really tired and I should probably get to bed early.”

“Uh — y-yeah. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight everyone.” And you were gone, back trailing down the hallway toward the downstairs basement, the door shutting behind you with a resounding click.

There was a beat of silence, then, “Why didn’t you tell me she was living here?”

“What do you mean, you asshole? First time I see you in months and that’s the first thing you say?”

“That’s her.”

“The girl from the party?” Steve asked, mouth agape as Chrissy stepped forward to take the baby from him. She bounced their daughter around the kitchen island, pretending she wasn’t listening with her back to them, but Eddie knew better. Couldn’t fault her for wanting to protect a friend. “That’s the girl you couldn’t shut up about? Buttercup?”

“I need a drink. A strong one,” Eddie rasped, pulling out one of the island barstools. Propped his elbows on the counter and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. “First I’m thinking when I see her at the store, ‘wow, maybe I get a second chance at this.’ Has to be, since she ends up here of all places. And then I find out she’s pregnant with my baby and I —”

“You hung up on her,” Chrissy interjected. Steve raised a brow in her direction. “Sorry. I just…you didn’t see her when she came to town.”

“But that’s the thing.” He paused to thank Steve as he dropped a glass in front of him on the table. “I didn’t know. I would have been on a plane if I knew. I hate thinking she’s been alone in all of this. And I know the day she was referring to. We’d had some stupid party after we’d finished the album and played some of the new songs for fun and we had some people over. She talked to someone, but I swear it wasn’t me.”

“We believe you,” Steve promised, settling down beside his friend. A hand curled around Eddie’s forearm and gave a tight squeeze. “How are you feeling?”

He groaned a hoarse cry of ‘fuck’ into his fist, head shaking back and forth. “I’m scared, man. I tried to be brave for her today, but I don’t even know the first thing about kids. In what universe did someone think I’d be fit to be a dad?”

“In all of them, Ed,” Chrissy sighed, coming up to rest a hand on her husband’s shoulder. Steve reached over and slid his palm over her smaller one, oozing that sweet fondness that most people only ever dreamed of. “You’re a good man. Don’t sell yourself short. You have a few months to figure out all the rest.”

“You told her you’re going to be there for her, right? I mean, if that’s what you want?” Steve asked, eyes intently searching his best friend’s face.

“Yeah.” Eddie sighed, taking a large gulp of his drink. “I mean, not much I can do right now, but I’m going to be in whatever way she wants me to be.” His hand swiped down the front of his face.

“I’m going to put her down for bed and head up. Love you two.” Chrissy moved to exit the room, dropping a kiss to the top of Eddie’s head and shoving the back of it teasingly into the kitchen island. Once he’d bursted into a laugh, she bounced the baby higher on her hip and said, “And Eddie. It’s going to be okay. You have all of us too. You’re not alone; neither of you are. Don’t forget that.”

He sure hoped so.

Long after Chrissy had gone up for bed, and Eddie grabbed his jacket from the front coat hanger rack, Steve stopped him in the doorway. Pulled him in for a hug Eddie would normally end up throwing a fist into Steve’s stomach jokingly for. This time he clapped him on the back and let his lungs fully deflate. A sigh he’d been holding onto all afternoon released, the tension in his body along with it.

“To me, it looks like you got a second chance with her. Might look different than you thought it would, but you got a second chance. Whether that’s as co-parents, friends, or more — you still have something,” Steve told him, stepping back to open the door for his friend. “I’d take advantage of that opportunity. Not everyone gets one.”

And damn it, he decided he would.

——

let me know what you think! 💌 see you again next week for chapter three, titled ‘roommates.’ 😉

#lunaloveseddie #Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson x you #eddie munson x pregnant!reader #eddie munson x f!reader

[y-rhywbeth2]

D&D Vampire Lore Dump #2

"Biology" Their "metabolism" and their physical body, their senses, why they're not aging and "vampires actually make fantastic torture victims, if you're a monster: vampire healing and how to inflict scars on them."

OBLIGATORY DISCLAIMER FOR FIRST TIME READERS: There are two things to note about the lore presented here: First, while the standard stat block in the monster manual is the default, in terms of lore vampires have this annoying tendency to be incredibly, stupidly varied. They are magical monstrosities ruled by the power of symbolism and superstition above anything else.

The next is that D&D is decades old, spans five editions, several settings and hundreds of writers. One guy establishes a piece of lore, and then the next picks it up goes "nah" and writes something else. I collected info from four different source books, all from different editions, which naturally don't entirely agree on how vampires work. Lore never stays consistent and may contradict itself. You may see information somewhere else from a source I don't have that contradicts what I wrote here. If you read this and like some of this stuff but not other bits, take the good and ditch the rest. Larian themselves have not written BG3 totally compliant with some established D&D lore or the original games.

Basically, in D&D, canon is what you decide it is.

Feeding | "Biology" | Hierarchy | Weaknesses and Cures | Psychology

The transformation into a vampire causes little physical change, except for the fangs, and the fact that their facial features seem take on a permanent hardened expression, appearing more "feral" in a way that is likened to a starving wolf. Spawn moreso than freed vampires, and in 5e they have claws despite the fact that freed vampires don't. Sometimes a vampire's eyes turn red upon changing, but this doesn't always happen.

Most of the vampire's five senses are sharpened by undeath. They can see perfectly in the dark, for example, and are very hard to catch off guard. The only one that gets duller than it was when they were alive is the sense of touch - "a blunt, phantom sense of touch, more mechanical than biological. It is a pale, crude approximation of a real tactile sense." They don't feel the effects of physical exertion and their ability to feel pain is dulled (but not nonexistent). They're not particularly bothered by high or cold temperatures unless they're at extremes (like frostbite levels, or "standing by a lava pool" levels). They're also largely unbothered by electric shocks.

They don't breathe, though they do actually have a heartbeat as their blood still gets pumped around their body. It doesn't provide any biological need of a living circulatory system, but is possibly part of keeping the body animated via magic.

Vampires do not produce body heat and tend to be room temperature to the touch unless they've fed within the last 24 hours, in which case they appear alive.

Lacking brain activity on account of being dead, vampires are immune to mind effecting spells and psionics. The fact that Astarion is affected by the tadpole is likely due to Netherese magic. The parasite is canonically modifying his undead state to its needs and has shut down his vampiric abilities, as he observes in one banter.

Their physical abilities massively increase. They have superhuman strength, speed and reflexes and are far more durable than the living.

Vampiric blood looks like humanoid blood at first glance, but takes on a golden sheen when held up to a light source. Also if the vampire it came from is still alive, then that blood can have strange magic properties… which are random! Maybe it burns like acid, or puts you under mind control if you touch it, or explodes into flame when exposed to sunlight! You won't know 'til you find out, it could do anything or nothing.

Vampires are capable of siring partially-undead children with the living (Dhampirs). Dhampirs are alive but as they grow up and their undead heritage starts to manifest they begin to share their vampire parent's cravings and feeding habits and are not terribly fond of said parent, as a rule.

Vampires are the only undead that require sleep. That turned out to be a very long topic of its own though, so maybe I'll focus on the details another time. Short version: Vampires have an instinctive knowledge of how close sunrise is. Some vampires can chose to sleep much like humans, others will immediately shut down the second the sun appears over the horizon and be dead until the moment it next sinks below said horizon, at which point the vampire is 1000% aware and awake again. They are bound to soil from their grave/homeland and must sleep on/in that or be destroyed. In BG3 specifically, looking at Cazador, elves still reverie (trance) in undeath. (In reverie, elves relive their memories of years gone by in vivid real time instead of dreaming. It's how elves avoid forgetting their own lives while living 700+ years) Vampires also hibernate, where they chose to go into a deep sleep for an unknown and uncontrollable length of time reaching centuries in length. Usually due to depression.

A vampire's body is frozen in time, and they will always have the same appearance they had when they died. The magic that keeps the vampire frozen in time, unageing, also gives them regenerative properties as it tries to reset them. Within minutes of receiving a wound, the wound has closed itself as if it were never there. "Wounds close, broken bones reform themselves, even missing limbs regenerate…" Reducing a vampire to 0 hit points also does not kill them, but that's for a later instalment. If one were to torture a vampire one could get both incredibly creative and make it last indefinitely.

They also can't get new tattoos or piercings, as the body heals them over again and pushes out the ink/metal. On the same logic if they had body modifications before they died then they'd never be able to get rid of them - if you scrape off the skin a tattoo is on or tore off a pierced lobe, the skin that grows back will still have the tattoo and the ear will have the hole for the earing still there.

However, there are forms of magical damage that inflict permanent marks on a vampire, which are called stigmata. Sunlight, holy water, holy symbols and the like are known to leave a scar. A silver plated blade might also do it.

There are two energy planes: Positive and Negative. Also known as the Planes of Life and Death, whose energies infuse the Prime Material Plane (which contains worlds like Earth and Toril). Living creatures are powered by positive energy (also called "radiant"), while the undead are animated by negative energy ("necrotic"). It's actually theorised that the undead somehow exist on the Prime Material Plane and the Negative Energy Plane simultaneously, though this seems gets into a lot of planar lore and conflicting information that I'm not going into. Traditionally, due to this difference, the undead are healed by spells made of negative/necrotic energy such as Inflict Wounds spells, but in reverse would be harmed by healing spells. 5e has not included this detail, that I've seen.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #astarion #i seem to recall something about Vampire the Masquerade writers also writing for Ravenloft #I can definitely see it #long post

[babyjakes]

devils roll the dice.

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompts | sex tape + medfet

pairing | hitman!robert pronge x innocent!reader

warnings | extremely dark, the darkest thing i've ever written (we've entered dead dove do not eat territory; please heed ALL warnings.) canon-level mature themes: kidnapping, torture films, murder. implications that reader will be killed. robert is cold and ruthless. innocent!virgin!reader. filming of illicit sex tape. reader is blindfolded and gagged. restraints. medfet elements: robert's little setup is giving vintage white tile exam room, exam table, stirrups, those gd black gloves, speculum use. clit focus (puff puff content incoming.) vibrator. multiple forced orgasms. squirting. overstimulation. mocking and degradation. robert puts a cig out on reader's leg. written in 3rd person idk.

word count | 1,485

an | i'm kind of sitting here like wtf, ,, what is this and how did it come out of me lol. a little nervous to post, but i trust you guys to make responsible decisions about the media you consume!!! i'll probably never write something this fucked up again but for whatever reason it was just flowing out of me tonight folks, please again i'm begging you go read the warnings, like a second time through wouldn't hurt lol, and i hope you enjoy!!

Bringing its bitter end to his lips, Robert used one hand to draw in a deep breath of his dwindling cigarette, the other lazily holding a black magic wand in its designated place. He was nearly an hour into the day's filming session, and his subject was reaching a level of exhaustion and misery that made her more annoying to play with than anything else. But knowing he needed to milk at least a little more footage out of her before putting her back under and calling it a day, the man kept at the task. He tried to remind himself that he should be enjoying himself; considering the kinds of commissions he generally had to choose from, this particular case was a treat. A pretty little virgin, as soft and pure as the early spring rain, with the most stunning body the criminal had ever had the privilege of defiling. He could spend another thirty minutes at his station, watching as all the life and dignity were drained out of his poor little victim like blood dripping to the cold tile floor.

Through the musty cloth rammed between her battered lips, the poor girl's cries were escalating as her tormentor swirled the curve of the wand's slick bulb over her burning clit. Robert knew what her worsening wails meant; with a callous grin, he pulled his cig from his mouth just in time to press its smoking end to the girl's inner thigh as she came. With the howl she let out, he was thankful for the buffer the gag provided. "Noisy little bitch," he laughed as her juices sprayed out against his gloved hands. "That's it, slut. Fucking take it."

Glancing at the camcorder sitting off to his side, Robert considered his options. As much satisfaction as he derived from seeing how many orgasms could be wrung out of the poor thing before her body knocked her out as an act of mercy, his sadistic tendencies were getting bored of the monotony. Tossing the used cigarette to the floor, the man slowed the wand to a stop. He rolled away slightly on his stool, tossing the condom that was wrapped over the toy's head into the large black trash bag sitting in the center of the large room's floor. This far into his career, Robert had his methods down to a science. There was a way to keep everything clean, everything untraceable.

It was the whole purpose of his "worksite"; it provided a secure, controlled environment for the entire job to take place in, from start to flatline finish. The "set" was by far his favorite portion of the space, and understandably so, as it's where his sick imagination got to run wild for hours, days on end. And his clients were just as enthusiastic about the vivid stage he had put together for their subjects to shine on. It was somewhat inspired by a vintage gynecology office. He had the classic off-white exam table, equipped with a daunting pair of metal stirrups that were always positioned just a little wider than what would be comfortable. A sturdy set of restraints were of course a must, and to make sure the camera picked up on every agonizing detail, he had installed an adjustable surgical light overhead that could be aimed and drawn in to illuminate any area or action he chose. He hadn't struggled to gather all the tools and instruments he could ever want, either. A few of his buyers were licensed professionals themselves, opening the door to acquiring inventory from the big-name brands in bulk.

The other corners of the room had their designated uses as well: one with a filthy mattress for the unconscious victims to waste away on as heavy drugs pumped through their systems, another with large plastic sheets covering the floor, walls, and ceiling where the poor souls were hosed down (inside and out) before a bullet to the temple inevitably ended their long days of suffering. But most of their waking hours were spent on that dreaded padded table, the very spot where Robert's most recent capture was using the few moments he spent away from his station desperately trying to regain control of her breathing.

He returned to his position swiftly after switching out his soiled pair of black gloves for fresh ones, not wanting to waste any of his or his client's time. The sight of the girl's abused sex was enough to make the man drool; it had been quite some time since he had seen such a marvelous-looking cunt, so glorious in its messy destruction. Knowing he should share the beautiful sight, he took the time to adjust the camera, zooming in from a full-body shot to focus solely on the spot between the victim's legs. With the humiliating inspection he was preparing to perform, he wanted to be sure his buyer got to see each drop of come the poor girl let out, every twitch and spasm he would pull from her helpless body.

"Now let's see here," the man breathed as he brought his gloved fingers up to gently spread out the ruined-looking pussy before him. Noticing the way his subject winced as her puffy folds were pried open, he couldn't help but laugh in dark delight. He drew his attention to her throbbing clit, noting how much it had grown in size from all those unwanted orgasms he had forced out of her. Its hood was completely retracted, leaving the poor bud exposed to the open air. In a moment of perverted curiosity, Robert pinched the hardened nub harshly between his fingers, earning the prettiest sob he had heard from the girl all day. He chuckled once more, rolling and pulling at the knot of flesh for a few more seconds of additional torture before finally moving his hands away.

"What do you think? Should we try for one more?" he mused mockingly as he grabbed a plastic speculum from one of the drawers built in beneath the table, unwrapping it and tossing its trash to the side before pausing to grin deviously over his victim. Glancing up at her head, he realized it was still covered with a black hood he had put on her at the beginning of the shoot. The buyer had requested for her to be blindfolded like this for a decent portion of the film, offering the explanation that she was "afraid of the dark," and that he wanted to see her in as much pain and fear as humanly possible. The hood had served its purpose for the day, but now, Robert wanted the poor girl to see each and every way he was going to be violating her body in real time. In one swift motion, he reached up and pulled the pocket of fabric away, exposing her stunning tear-stained face. "Hi sweetheart," he greeted viciously. Just as he was hoping, her cries worsened as she saw the dreaded tool in his hands. He had a certain liking for holding up the devices he was preparing to use to see his victim's reactions; after all, he got off on fear and dread just as much as his clients did.

"Time to open up this pretty little cunt and see what kind of damage we did," the man enthused as he forced the tip of the instrument into the girl's drenched opening. By now, she had been well stretched out and ruined by her captor's horrific methods. Grappling with his usual lack of restraint and self-control, Robert had barely made the drive back with the girl tied up in his trunk without pulling over and popping that perfect little cherry on his own time, without a single camera properly rolling.

Turning the speculum as it was fully inserted, the man took great pleasure in squeezing the handle to force the tool open, each tiny click that sounded only stretching the poor thing's aching walls out to a further, more painful degree. "There," he sighed in satisfaction as the last notch was reached. Pulling his hands away, he gave himself and the camera a few seconds to enjoy the view of the girl's milky insides, so worn and sore from the days of torture she'd endured.

"Alright. One more," he finally hummed, using his gloved fingers to collect some of the plentiful slick dripping from the speculum before dragging them up to find that adorable little button he loved bullying so much. Her fading sobs were revived in an instant, her throat growing hoarse from all the screaming she'd done. But as much as she cried, Robert was determined to get one final orgasm from her before putting her back under for the day. After spending so much time making that pretty pussy as puffy and sensitive as possible, he deserved to see it coming all stretched out painfully over his instrument of choice.

#eun's writing #devils roll the dice #kinkmas 2023 #robert pronge #robert pronge fanfiction #robert pronge smut #mr freezy #mr freezy fanfiction #mr freezy smut #dark!robert pronge #dark!mr freezy #robert pronge x reader #robert pronge x y/n #robert pronge x you #robert pronge imagine #robert pronge one shot #robert pronge blurb #robert pronge drabble #robert pronge headcanon #the iceman #the iceman fanfiction #chrise evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut

[lancermylove]

MC is a What!? (HC)

Fandom: Obey Me

Pairing: DB with gn!Reader

Warning: None

Requested by: @smut-simp

Prompt: Guess What? I'm back. Ok, so i love mythical creatures (and you). But i wanted to ask for MC who is like a secret god/goddess. Lemme give you a description. MC had a terrible, no-good, very bad day. And they were in their room crying, so now they have a headache and its even worse bc the horns are hidden and straining against their head. so MC lets them out along with the wings bc their back hurts from being curled up for so many hours in a corner.) NOTE: Sorry if this is a long ask, i'm just so freaking eager. *Cries in simp* Also, i have like 3 more suggestions that i'm still thinking about, soooooo yeah I Love You SM <3 Hope You Have The Best Day Ever! :)

A/N: Soooo this was supposed to be a quick ask, and it turned into an HC. 😋 Awww thank you! 💖 I love mythical creatures too! I added the description you gave for the god/goddess appearance in the prologue. :3 Thank you! I hope you have a great day and HNY! I hope 2024 is the BESTEST year ever for you. 🤗

———————————————

Prologue:

This was your worst day in Devildom, and your breakdown was taking a toll on your mental health as well as your physical form. Not the form you showed others, but your true form - that of a god/goddess. You never told anyone this secret as you feared being seen as a fish out of water in Devildom.

When others looked at you, they saw a 'normal' human, but what exactly did you see when you looked at yourself in the mirror? Four large white wings with golden outlines; slightly glowing eyes the color of gold; two golden horns that curved from just above your ears and stood six inches above your head; a shiny white and gold striped halo balancing atop the horns; a third eye on your forehead with massive, long eyelashes that was white and glowed; a huge deep gold tattoo on your stomach in the shape of a person sitting crisscrossed, using magic, and the three realms.

You were able to hide all of this from the others, but the bad day had drawn tears to your eyes. In turn, you had a headache, which kept getting worse due to the strain of the horns on your head. However, the amount of magic it was taking you to hide your form took the highest toll on you. For a while, you stared at your tears that were made of gold (literally). Was it worth it to continue tormenting yourself to hide your true form? Shaking your head, you shattered the magic around you, and instantly, your deity form was on display.

Unfortunately for you, he had learned you were having a bad day and entered your room. He generally knocked, but today, he assumed you would tell him to leave you alone.

----

Lucifer froze. The amount of divine energy flowing from you made it difficult for him to breathe.

A while back, he had suspected that you were hiding something from them but wasn't expecting you to be a god/goddess. Regardless, Lucifer remained unfazed by your appearance and was more concerned with your sadness.

He forced himself to come closer to you, even though his body told him not to. Wordlessly, the first brother sat on the edge of your bed and gently stroked your head, avoiding touching your horns.

"It hurts. My horns hurt!"

Lucifer knew from personal experience how annoying horns could be and how heavy wings could feel at times. The Avatar of Pride didn't ask you questions, nor was in interested in learning anything about you at that moment. His energy was forced on trying to calm you down and provide you with a soothing touch.

However, one question nagged Lucifer's mind: why was a deity in Devildom? If Lucifer didn't trust you, he would have thought you were there on a mission to study the demons as the heavens were planning a war against Devildom.

His jaw dropped. Where was (y/n), and who was this creature? Why was there such a strong divine aura flowing from it? Wait, was that creature you? You were a god/goddess?

Mammon's head spun, but hearing your anguished sobs tore at his heart. He wanted to bombard you with questions but knew this was not the right time.

It took him a little struggle to get closer to you as your divinity was too dizzying for him. However, Mammon wanted nothing more than to help you calm down.

When he saw your gold tears, the Avatar of Greed's eyes widened. He had a moment of weakness where he considered taking your tears and selling them to make A LOT of dough but had to remind himself that this was neither the place nor the time to think about money. That didn't mean he wasn't planning to take your 'tears' afterward with your permission, of course.

Mammon sat by your side and held onto your hand as he gently patted your shoulders. His eyes wandered around to take in your majestic form.

Maybe you had your reasons to hide the truth from them. However, he hoped you would tell him the truth once you calmed down.

Eh? EHHHH? You were a god/goddess all along? Why didn't you tell them? He thought you were a normie human all along. If he knew you were a deity that looked like they were straight out of an anime, Levi wouldn't have given you such a hard time.

He was lost in thoughts until he heard your whimpers. His shoulders slumped. Though, he was a little uncomfortable as he didn't know how to make you feel better. Regardless, Levi still pushed past the invisible barrier around you that attempted to push him away.

Levi hesitated to touch you because he didn't know if your light would have a negative effect on him. After a while of thinking, he sighed and gently stroked your cheeks. That was when he saw your gold tears. Talk about your tears being priceless.

Since he didn't know what to say, Levi stayed silent, gently stroking your cheek, head, and arm and even taking a chance at caressing your wings. They were even softer than Lucifer's wings in the Celestial Realm.

Unlike some of his brothers, Levi didn't consider you would be there to spy on them or have any ill-intention toward them. You were still (y/n) to him - a friend, crush, and sweet normie, not a force of divinity.

Satan wondered if he was in the presence of a god/goddess and took a moment to analyze your aura. Once he confirmed, the Avatar of Wrath felt breathless. He knew being around your divine form for a prolonged period would have a negative effect on him. However, he couldn't bring himself to walk away and leave you in tears.

The Avatar of Wrath took a deep breath and forced himself to get closer to you. His eyes scanned each and every detail on your body, but he was most fascinated with the tattoos of the three realms. Why would a deity have a tattoo of all three realms? Did you have a special power, or were you an overseer of all three realms? Someone who transgressed ordinary gods/goddesses.

He had to force himself to swallow his curiosity as your well-being and happiness came before. So, Satan made a mental note of all his questions and sat down beside you. His touch was gentle but still hesitant.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Those were the only words he said. If you chose to tell him, Satan paid close attention to your words; if you chose to remain silent, he didn't force you to say anything.

Once you were in a better state of mind, Satan planned to get answers to his questions and hoped you would tell him the entire truth.

As someone who admired beauty above all, Asmo was speechless. He never thought he would see a being more beautiful than him, but you proved him wrong.

Asmo was so enamored by your appearance that, for a while, he zoned out and didn't hear your sobs or see your tears. His only focus was on taking in every inch of your beautiful appearance. He only snapped out when you let out a small cry of pain.

At first, he didn't want to come closer, knowing his dark aura would not mix well with your light one, but he couldn't bear to see you in pain.

Little by little, he eventually came closer to you and tried to talk to you. Asmo wanted to know why you were in pain and crying, among many other things. The Avatar of Lust knew he couldn't stay in your presence for long without being affected, so he tried his best to learn the reason for your sadness and find a solution.

Seeing your appearance brought back memories of the Celestial Realm, which made him realize something. How had he not heard about a being like you before? Had Michael and, maybe, Lucifer known of your existence and hid it from others, or did they not know about you?

Beel was surprised by your appearance, but unlike his brothers, he didn't think about who you were or why you hid your appearance or divine aura.

His focus was only on your tears. Why were you crying, and what could he do to make you feel better? Beel tanked his way closer to you without worrying about the effects of your divinity on his body or mind.

"What's wrong, (y/n)? Did someone do something to hurt you?" He patiently waited for your answer. His eyes wandered to your wings, and had you not been sad, Beel would have smiled slightly. Your wings slightly reminded him of Lilith and her wish to have beautiful wings. He couldn't help but think that if she was alive, she would have loved this form of yours.

Once you gathered enough strength to tell Beel you were having a bad day, he tried his best to help you by talking to you, giving you hugs, and sharing his food. If you tell him someone caused that sadness, Beel will 'take care' of the person for you right in front of you so that you can smile. Whatever it takes, he will do.

Belphie had to force himself to stay grounded as his first instinct was to run out of your room. Compared to his brothers, your aura had a crushing effect on him. He wanted to walk away, but seeing the way you looked at him, tugged at his heart.

The Avatar of Sloth wondered just how much magic you had to be able to constantly conceal your presence from everyone. He understood you were a god/goddess, but even deities have limits. Belphie slowly got closer to you but didn't dare to touch you. Once you concealed your divinity, he planned to make it up to you by hugging you and not letting go.

"What's wrong, (y/n)?" It was evident he was concerned about you.

"Bad day...my wings...and horns feel...heavy..."

He could completely understand your problem, as his horns were the heaviest out of his brothers. At times, he purposely avoided his demon form just so he didn't have to deal with the burdens of the heavy horns.

Knowing he couldn't help you much, Belphie considered calling Solomon over to try to alleviate your pain. But would the sorcerer be able to help? Moreover, would he attempt to use you for his own benefit or to help humanity?

———————————————

➣ Obey Me Masterlist: [1][2][3] ➣ Main Masterlist

➣ Buy me a Ko-fi? ➣ Commission: Open ➣ HC/Scenario Requests: Closed || Quick Ask Requests: Closed || GIF Requests: Closed

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me hcs

[barbiedragon]

dear fae!

first of all: happy birthday month!

I hope it's a nice one and that on your birthday you get to eat a whole lot of cake!

secondly for the birthday celebration (I really hope I am doing this right, as it is my first time requesting something to you) may I ask for something with Visenya? maybe with handmaiden! reader tending to her needs and maybe... maybe being rewarded?

ok with this I am off, and I hope I did alright and again happy birthday month!

My lovely, Angsti!!! Thank you sm. This is such a great request. Let's show Queen Visenya some love. 😘 

WC: 1.3k

WLW, Blood Magic, Spicy times, and Maegor has two moms

*comments/reblogs are appreciated

Queen Visenya preferred to spend her days on Dragonstone, surrounded by the ancestry of Old Valyria.  She attended court at the Red Keep when needed, spending less time there, after Rhaenys fell to her death.  The comfort of her home provided relief, along with you, who she always kept by her side.  Your family had long served the Targaryens, being of an even lesser-born Valyrian house.  It was a land you never knew, but nonetheless, you enjoyed reading the histories and listening to tales the Queen shared with you.

Your hair fell over your shoulders as you finished preparing the Queen’s bath.  She kept her quarters in the Sea Dragon Tower, and in the middle of the room, she had arranged for a large stone tub to be carved into the floor, creating a deep space in which for her to soak.  It had three stone steps and two railings resembling slender dragon necks that curved into intricate heads as they neared the steaming water—your Queen always preferred her baths to be boiling.  Additional servants helped you to fill the stone tub with large pots of water, as it was a time-consuming ordeal.  Once finished, you dismissed them to finish the ritual on your own.

First, you lit the dragonglass candles, watching their flames flicker and cast deep violet hues against the stone walls.  The light would become most unpleasant if you stared at the flames for too long; only those who were highly skilled in blood magic could sustain such a thing. Next, you lifted a smooth, ceramic jug from the table. It was filled with fresh cow’s milk, and you began slowly pouring the silky, white liquid into the steaming water, watching the milk turn the bath from crystal clear to murky and opaque. The final touches were the various herb mixtures of lavender, turmeric, and thyme, followed by a sprinkling of rose petals and a few drops of your own blood.  You watched the crimson fluid drip into the cloudy water with satisfaction. You hoped Queen Visenya would be pleased.  

As if on cue, the Queen entered in a robe of crimson silk, her pale skin glowing almost unnaturally as she approached, admiring your handiwork.“Sȳres (good),” she praised, leaning down to breathe in the scent of the bath you had painstakingly prepared for her

Queen Visenya was often described as cold, cunning, and calculating, with a perpetually stern look etched on her face.  Even when she smiled, which was rare indeed, it seemed wicked.  You moved behind her to help slide off the robe, breathing in her scent; it was akin to a strong bonfire, accompanied by an undertone of coppery blood—most unique, mayhaps a bit repulsive, but one you had grown to enjoy. Her silver hair fell in loose waves, bouncing slightly as she descended into the deep tub, letting the hot water engulf her.  You watched; the Queen did not wince or cower, instead merely submerging her body in the heat as if the water were tepid instead of scalding.  A true mark of the blood of the Dragon.

While she soaked, you finished tidying and setting up the room for her slumber, placing more dragonglass candles around the room until it was immersed in the eerie flames.

“Bantis ao umba, (you will stay tonight),” Visenya instructed.

“Yes, my Queen,” you replied with a simple nod of your head.  You served her every desire.

“You are long overdue for a reward, sweet handmaiden,” she purred, “and I require special assistance tonight.”

“As you wish,” you murmured. She remained in the water until it cooled before ascending out of the tub just as a squire requested entrance.

“Enter,” she called out.

The young man quickly averted his gaze from her bare body, but Visenya paid no mind as she blinked her dark purple eyes expectantly, evidently unbothered by her own nakedness in the squire’s presence.

“As you requested, your Grace,” he explained before placing the slender, elongated vial made of obsidian into her outstretched palm.

She gave him a curt nod before dismissing him, beckoning you closer with a crooked finger as the squire scurried away.  A shiver ran through you when her fingers cupped your chin before she pressed a deep, hungry kiss to your lips.  It was all tongue and teeth—powerful and hungry, followed by a sharp, claiming bite to your neck.  Her skilled fingers—those of a nimble warrior—unlaced you from your simple gown, letting it puddle around your feet and leaving you just as bare as she.

“I shall have you tonight, and you shall help me conceive, sweet maiden.  My husband’s true desire rested with our fallen sister, as did mine, but I shall perform my duty to provide him another heir—a strong son who will defend our line.”

You could merely mewl and nod in response, having already fallen under her spell long ago.  Whether it was truly dark magic or simply the trick of lust, it mattered not to you, for you would do anything for your Queen.  She placed the vial between the flickering candles, ancient words spilling from her blood-red lips before she sliced her palm using the blade of Dark Sister.  Drip, drip, drip…. crimson splattered onto the vial and table.  You watched with wide eyes as the vial began to vibrate, and whatever was contained inside began to bubble and froth, accompanied by an ominous hissing sound.

“Yes, yes,” she whispered, her eyes almost glowing in the flames before she moved onto the bed, spreading her legs. “Now, take the vial and fill me. It will not burn you, sweet maiden.”

With cautious fingers, you reached out to grab ahold of the obsidian tube, surprised to find that it did not feel hot to the touch.  Most strange.  You walked towards her, warm arousal creeping through you as you watched her fingers stroke herself until she glistened.

“Fill me with it,” she purred, stretching onto her back.

Oh. You carefully maneuvered the vile inside of her, making sure every drop spilled inside while her hands caressed her belly.  Indecent moans filled the room as she writhed, tilting her hips up to make sure she was filled.  You felt a sweet throbbing between your legs as you watched her.  The flames seemed to burn brighter in the room as she pulled you close, entwining her naked body with yours as her blood red lips claimed your mouth.  

You rutted your own wetness against hers, feeling fire roil through your belly. Wet flesh lightly slapped together before her teeth found your throat again, this time drawing blood as her fingers found their way inside you.  Pressure built inside of you and spilled forth, leaving a sweet residue behind on her fingers.  Then, you found your way between her legs to bury your tongue inside of her, tasting the blood, magic, and what you could only assume was King Aegon’s spend.  It was an exquisite, acrid taste, and with each ministration of your tongue, her cries of pleasure filled the room before she released.

Your tongue was eager as a kitten’s to lap her clean before tracing it up her taut stomach, then around both of the hardened, rosy nubs of her nipples.  Her fingers tangled in your hair, lithe, strong legs wrapping around your waist as those ethereal purple eyes gazed into yours.

“I suppose you are not a maiden anymore, dōnus hunitsos (sweet little bunny),” she teased.

You smirked.  “No, my Queen. I suppose the Dragon has laid claim to my virtue.”

“We are fierce and wicked creatures, taking what we want when we desire it.”

“You claimed the Seven Kingdoms. I am honored you chose to claim me as well, my Queen,” you purred, fingers wandering against the bite she had left on the curve of your neck.

“You will always remain by my side,” she whispered. ”Aegon can have his throne.  I shall have you and my son.”.

“You are certain it will be a son, my Queen?” you asked, believing there to already be a roundness to her belly now—but that was not possible, was it?

“Maegor,” Visenya smiled wickedly, “he will rule the Realm.”

Tag List: @borikenlove @aemondx @targaryenbrainrot @valeskafics @oneeyedvisenya @watercolorskyy @silverwinged @megatardisbaby @willowbrookesblog

#requests #queen visenya #visenya targaryen #visenya x reader #house targaryen #asoiaf fic #asoiaf imagine #visenya imagine #visenya fic #queen visenya x reader #visenya targaryen x fem!reader #fem!reader #visenya the conqueror

[yan-maid-cafe]

Yandere Sorcerer

Imagine "falling" for a yandere sorcerer...

You had met Aod years ago, the owner of a local magic shop. Considered a master of many fields ranging from runes to potionology to even astrology. He was a unique man to say the least. One day while you went in there to buy some more Wolf's Bane, he awkwardly asked you on a date. Something you happily accepted.

When reaching the cafe the next day, he handed you a box of homemade chocolates urging you to try one. Feeling the sweet treat melt on your tongue, it was the best chocolate you had ever eaten. And the date just kept getting better from there. It felt like love at first sight, as if you two were made for eachother.

Your relationship moved fast, faster than anybody in the village had seen. Within a month you both had already moved in together, and a month after that you were already considering marriage. People would occassionly come to talk to you, saying things were moving too fast and that maybe you should slow down. But you never listened, why would you? The world has been so much brighter ever since you and Aod started dating. You never wanted this to end.

He was the perfect fiancee. Providing for you, caring for you, loving you more than anything. What more could you ask for? Who cares if things were moving fast, that's just how in love you two were.

Though one day you were left sick in bed, coming down with some kind of stomach bug. You remained in bed in order to heal. Aod walked into your shared bedroom, holding a teacup in his hand, the tea he would brew for you every morning. Placing the tea on the side table, insisting you to drink it even if you could barely keep anything down, saying that it would make you feel better. Refusing to leave the room until you drank the entire cup. Once you had done as told, he gave you his usual kind smile before turning around and leaving the room.

You lied in bed for what felt like hours before your stomach lurched around inside of you, causing you to need to grab the bucker beside your bed. Upon emptying your stomach into it, you were shocked to see what was inside. It was the usual digusting greens or yellows you would expect. But there was also large blotches of bright pink within it, dropping the bucket on the ground in shock as you tried to stand up from the bed. You legs shaking beneath you as you broke out in a cold sweat. Your heart was beating a mile a minutes as it felt like the room was losing the color it once had. Your only thought...

Where the Hell were you...

It felt like the past few months were a blur, the last thing you remember clearly was arriving for your first ever date with Aod. Everything else was a blurry mess. You were left with a feeling of terror as you walked out of the bedroom, trying to reach the front door. Something deep in your mind was screaming at you to get out before Aod came, to get out and get help before he returned.

Though before you reached the front door a firm hand grabbed hold of your shoulder, a familiar voice sounded out behind you.

"Dear, what are you doing out of bed?"

It was Aod. You tried to pry yourself out of his grip and scream for help but he quickly pulled you into his chest, covering your mouth with his hand. He tried to talk to you but all it took was a single look in your eyes for his gentle gaze to change into one of frustration. He kept a hand over your mouth as he dragged you further into the house. Easily overpowering your struggles as he forced you into his office, locking the door behind you both.

Dragging you towards a large cupboard, Aod opened one of the drawers revealing countless bottles of the same bright pink concoction you had just expelled from your stomach. He brought one of the bottles to your lips and upon having to fight you, he began to pry your mouth open with his hand. Now pouring the sweet tasting mixture into your mouth, forcing it down your throat.

It only took a few minutes for the room around you to become blurry again, as if your brain was going numb. The color returned to your surroundings as Aod pulled you into his chest, gently stroking your head with a soft smile. His voice gentle as he whispered into your ear.

"Don't worry, it's okay now Dear. You just got a little restless there for a second."

His smile spread as he nuzzled his face into your neck, speaking in a voice dripping with obsession. Looking down at the ring on your finger.

"I've been thinking. We should get married as soon as possible and finally leave this backwards town. It will finally just be you and me. Would you like that Hun?"

You looked up at him with glassy eyes, a loving smile on your lips as you nodded without a thought. After all, what was so wrong with that? Aod was the best fiancee you could have asked for...

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere sorcerer #tw vomit #tw drugging

[fleuraliasave]

*OUTDATED NEW VERSION AVAILABLE HERE*

❤ Version 6.0 Fleuralia Save File ❤

Download link down below (please read entire post before installing)

This save file uses all EP’s, GP’s (not Journey to Batuu), SP’s and most of the kits (Country Kitchen, Blooming Rooms, Incheon Arrivals, Retro Fit, Industrial loft, Moonlight Chic, Little Campers, Pastel Pop, Everyday Clutter, Bathroom Clutter, Simtimates Collection, First Fits and Desert Luxe).

What’s new in this update?:

San Sequoia has been completely redone, added multiple new lots, updated other lots and provided make-overs for the households.

All households that are currently living in the different worlds have set sim characteristics and conversation topic prefrences.

Added new households.

Updated existing community lots with objects for infants like changing tables and toys (where it would make sense to have them, so not in night clubs and such). Added infants to some of the households.

Added splash pad items to some of the pool lots.

Changed up some of the older lots (example Boba Tea shop in Copperdale, ice cream shop in Brindleton Bay).

Current Status of Worlds:

Finished worlds: Willow Creek, Oasis Springs, Newcrest, Magnolia Promenade, Windenburg, San Myshuno, Forgotten Hollow, Brindleton Bay, Del Sol Valley, StrangerVille, Glimmerbrook, Sulani, Britechester , Evergreen Harbor, Mt. Komorebi, Henford-on-Bagley, Tartosa, Moonwood Mill, Copperdale and San Sequoia (NEW!).

Finished vacation worlds: Granite Falls and Selvadorada.

Finihed other lots: Hospital, Science Lab and the Police Station.

To be updated: the Magic Realm, will either be included in a future update or on the gallery (OriginID: fleuralia)

What do you get with this save?:

For my save file all lots are either completely new builds (almost all) or renovations, ofcourse created by me. Exceptions: I have added the official builds for the releases of the Paranormal SP by Dr Ashley and the Dream Home Decorator GP by Deligracy to this save, since I thought they deserved a spot. These two are therefore not my own creations, credits are given in the description to Dr Ashley and Deligracy. Mt. Komorebi, Henford-on-Bagley, Tartosa, Moonwood Mill, Copperdale and San Sequoia lots are largely created by GameChangers. Most lots have gotten small updates, others are completely new builds by me.

All the townies had make-overs plus I added new families to spice it up a bit. Some of the townies are made by other creators, who are given credits in the description of the household. All the townies in the different worlds have a story, some include sentiments and adjusted relationships to the story.

Added plenty of community lots to give your Sims something to do (YAY!). Almost every world has one restaurant, but it also includes festivals that represent the four seasons (park lots) and a fully functional shopping street in Magnolia Promenade (toy store, bridal store and more).

I have added rental lots so you can go on vacation in more worlds. For example in Sulani, Willow Creek and Windenburg.

Other details:

As mentioned at the beginning, this save uses almost all packs (except Journey to Batuu and some kits). This means that if you download it without owning or installing most of the packs a lot of objects will disappear from the save, but if you are not bothered by this you can still download and play in it.  

I disabled the autonomous fame gain and neigborhood action plan voting/environmental changes, you enable them again in the pack settings menu.

I would love to add some households in this save created by all of you! Add your household under the hashtag #fleuraliatownies in The Sims 4 Gallery, you can add a storyline and world in the description but thats not obligatory. If I respond on your creation it means that I have incorporated it in the save for the next update.

Sadly every game update comes with a lot of bugs. I suggest before reporting problems in the save to me, to check on forums if its related to a general bug/glitch or to mods (if you use them).

Questions and supportive feedback are always welcome, you can reach me here via a comment on this post, an ask or through a DM 😁

How to make it work in your game:

Download the save file from the link below.

Drag it in your saves folder under: PC/Documents/Electronic Arts/The Sims 4/saves.

Change the numbers if you already have a save with the same name.

It should now show up in your game as: Fleuralia Save Version 6.0.

DOWNLOAD (SFS) (outdated)

!!Don’t re-upload or claim as your own!!

Future updates will follow after each pack release (if it includes a world). The time the update will be uploaded after each release depends on how much I have to change and on my work schedule around that time.

Last but not least, enjoy and till next time! XX

Fleuralia

Feel free to support me ❤️: Ko-fi account

#fleuraliasave #fleuraliasaveversion6 #sims 4 save file #save file #update #the sims 4 #fleuraliatownies

[hyperfixat]

Yandere Lucifer (the brothers are also here and in love but we aren’t terribly focused on them.) ABSOLUTELY NOT BETA READ ‼️

more under cut :p .. ~2.2k words

pt2

Lucifer who lets you in his office, on the clause that you don’t cause trouble or make too much noise. He lets you sit on the carpet, the hardwood floors, the chairs near the fireplace, and even the spot across from him. Such a powerful demon, with a weak spot for you.

So much goes into keeping you alive, even in the comfort of his office, he has to make sure he’s using enough magical energy to dampen and absorb curses from any vinyls he has spinning, so as to not melt your tiny human brain. He has to make sure you have water, keep the room at an adequate temperature, make sure he provides you with human safe snacks, but he can’t bring himself to mind.

Your presence calms the ache in his soul, his head, and his heart.

He’s so far gone into the pits of love, that he’d kill, torture, and slay for you. Even on a whim. Sure he had a pact with you, but you wouldn’t need to use it, he’d follow you wherever. A loyal dog is the Morningstar.

And you, you don’t even seem to realize the effect you have on him, his brothers, those worthy to be around you. It’s maddening, your naïvety. So many demons, hungry for your flesh and soul, but you just.

Everything about you drives him further into love, borderline obsession. You’re perfect. He barely has to do a thing and you look at him like he hung the stars in the sky. (He did create a few of them, but still). Don’t you understand he’d give you the world? Anything for you…

His fountain pen scratches away at the endless pile of documents on his desk. It never ends. Diavolo wants this, RAD needs that, there's another suit being filed against Mammon… it won’t end. It’s well into the evening, perhaps eleven pm, and you should be asleep by now, but he longs for you to pay him a visit.

He could take a break, a tiny one, head down to your room, where you would surely be, tucked into your bed with one (or more) of his brothers snoring on top of you.

A sigh rips through him.

No, he should just get this work done, then he can rest (hopefully) and see you in a few hours at breakfast.

Mammon, a pest, a loveable pest, but still a pest, had hidden away two weeks worth of bills, ie a lot. Lucifer will not be getting sleep tonight.

“Ah, forgive me,” Lucifer says as he yawns. “I’m afraid I had a rather long night.”

Lucifer, third most powerful denizen of the Devildom, holds a lot of power. At times it has frightened you, how close his slips in emotional control have led you far too near your grave. But more often than not it lulls you into safety.

Your first year in the Devildom, your relationship with Lucifer was quite rocky, seeing as your insubordination was not welcomed, and you pried apart doors that should not be opened, but he managed to fall for you anyway. All your silly, human flaws and quirks melt into oblivion in Pride’s gaze.

It slipped beyond his notice as to when his attachment to you went too far. Lucifer won’t complain, can’t bring himself to even care that he’s so deeply infatuated with you. You do so much for him, his family.

The night you formed your pact and the time spent after, holding you close, keeping your small human body up against his own. It burned a permanent spot in his memory, a figure as large and grand as the Taj Mahal.

Lucifer is far from dumb, his brothers fell for you far before he did, Mammon, Leviathan, Beelzebub, Asmodeus, Satan, he can’t pin down where Belphegor grew to love you, but it’s clear he does.

“Is there anything I can help with?” And there it is. You’re so heart achingly kind, to him, to demons. A smile graces his face before falling.

“No, thank you, little one. I appreciate the offer. I should finish up in an hour or so.”

You hum thoughtfully and press a kiss into his hair. “Goodnight, Lucy. Sleep well.”

And how can he not, with you snuggled into his bed, safe. It will always give him an easy rest when you’re with him, because no harm can fall upon you as long as Lucifer is there.

And so, as another year comes to a close and your term at RAD comes to an end, he realizes that he wouldn’t live if he let you go. He needs you to breathe, to function.

It’s silly, more than a little silly, but the ache in his chest that caves deeper and deeper every mommy you’re away will collapse if he can’t hold you, can’t kiss you goodnight, can’t taste the horribly bitter coffee you brew. The Avatar of Pride needs you to feel whole.

The Demon Brothers (New) (7)

Lucifer: Everyone, come to my office after today’s classes end, important discussion.

Mammon: Everyone?!

Levi: Are we in trouble?

Levi: 😨

Asmo: Group Orgy?!!? ☺️

Lucifer: No. It concerns MC, by the way. So tardiness is not acceptable.

Belphie: Are they okay?

Levi: asmo stfu

Beel: Did something happen?

Mammon: 😮

Lucifer: No.

— end discussion.

“We all care deeply for MC. And with your help I have a plan to let them stay with us forever.”

Lucifer does what he does best, justifies his actions. Clearly Mammon keeps his spending under control much better with you around, and Asmodeus won’t bring unsolicited visitors into the House of Lamentation anymore. Satan’s never been harder to deal with than when you’re away, so really, he needs to keep you around. They need to keep you around.

Lucifer doesn’t keep many secrets from Lord Diavolo. This situation is complicated. Diavolo won’t want the Celestial Realm to see you as a hostage, that’d be an act of war, no doubt. But. Lucifer is confident in his brothers and his ability to convince you to stay.

Keeping you under the radar, away from the Prince, will be hard. Harder than locking Belphie away, because his brother knew he was a prisoner. He doesn’t want you to feel like you don’t have a choice.

It isn’t the first time Lucifer discovered a brother with blood stained clothes and a feral look in their eyes. The frequency of these discoveries have increased exponentially. Mammon and Satan were the obvious offenders, but each and everyone of them have sulked home after a kill since MC has arrived.

It’s an odd sense of vigilantism. In a way. Anyone who dares look at you wrong could face the force of an Avatar.

If they were anyone but the Avatars that they are, surely they’d be prison bound, but being powerful and near worshiped has its perks.

The picture in front of him paints him thick with panic, and anxiety. Mammon is covered in blood. The fear isn’t for his brother, it’s for you. You’ve seen them with evidence of their true nature, humans don’t like that.

Mammon’s ruined everything, but a bitter strike of envy runs through Lucifer when he realizes what you’re doing. Cleaning him up, placing a cutesy human bandage on the single scratch Mammon obtained in his fit.

Lucifer bristles quietly.

“What is this?” His voice makes both of you jump, and you gasp quietly.

“Uh, I, uhm, I fell.” Mammon makes a poor excuse as he takes you into his wingspan protectively. You stumble into his younger brother’s chest and he scoffs.

“Sure.” Lucifer bites sarcastically. “MC, why don’t you tell me what’s going on.” He knows he has you cornered and the smug look on his face proves it. When you hesitate and look to Mammon, he quirks an eyebrow.

“He, uh,” you look back at Mammon. “Hhgh. I’m not supposed to tell you.”

“Mammon.” Lucifer harshly directs his emotions.

“Agh, they’ve been cleaning me up when I go out, I didn’t mean for them to know, big bro! They just kinda saw me all bloody and started doing it, this.”

“He told me you’d be upset if you knew I saw him like this, but I don’t mind! I like taking care of your brothers.”

Lucifer watches you fiddle with the bandage wrapper in your hands and then at Mammon, holding you at the waist, looking like a kicked puppy.

“Do you even know what he was doing? What any of us do when we go out to return bloodied?” Lucifer raises himself high, a sharp glare in your direction. Even when you flinch slightly he doesn’t back down despite the ache of hurt he feels for your little human heart.

“Uh, I figured it wasn’t my place to ask.”

It takes Lucifer a moment to nod and dismiss himself with a simple, “very well.”

Lucifer

Lucifer: I am not upset with you, MC. I am upset that my brother has been taking advantage of your kindness.

Lucifer: You do know they’ve been killing humans and demons alike? All of them.

Lucifer: Don’t fret, you’ll always be safe with me.

MC: demons’ll be demons i suppose

MC: as long as i’m not the one dying 🤞

Lucifer: 🤨

First it was Mammon, then it was Belphie, then Asmo; Satan, Beelzebub, and Leviathan. He didn’t need you to take care of him, of course not. Lucifer aches for his touch, a traitor to his pride, he wants you to pepper him with kisses and your cute band aids.

It’s rare Lucifer actually makes a kill, mostly because no one dares cross him or speak ill of his family while his ears may hear. A foolish middle class demon let slip a confession of his attraction to you while Lucifer passed.

Logically he knows that is an unreasonable reason to murder, but the part of his mind and soul filled with love infatuation desire wont listen to reason. Ice spikes his heart. No demon, angel, nor human should harbor such feelings for you. They will never live up to what he holds for you, what he could give to you.

And so, venom in his body, Lucifer strikes from shadow, a clean kill, not much to it. Then the memories of you patching his brothers flashes through his mind, and ugh, he knows he could get your undivided attention if he messes himself up just a little.

When you find him, bloodied, uniform absolutely darkened with drying blood, at your bedroom door, your jaw drops.

Finally, he gets the pleasure, the reward of your hands cleaning his face, his uniform, tending to him. It was worth the wait, the effort, the time. Perhaps he should find himself bloodied more often if it means having you like this.

While your soft human hands clean his face and freshly unbuttoned shirt he decides to tell you what he’s done. You deserve to know, and a part of him hopes you’ll be thankful. Although there is always the chance reality will sink into your mortal mind and you’ll realize what a monster the Morningstar truly is.

He hopes the latter doesn’t happen, he doesn’t want to hurt you.

As you place the final tiny kitten bandage on his face, and before you think fully about it, you press a gentle peck against his lips.

“Hm? Do you like seeing me kill for you?” He smiles against your lips and his hot breath leaks into your own. “You like having the Avatar of Pride avenge you?”

An embarrassing noise escapes you as Lucifer pulls away from your lips to kiss your hairline.

“There isn’t a thing in all the realms I wouldn’t do for you, you know that?”

You exhale against his chest, before breathing him in.

“Thank you, Lucifer.”

A low purring, perhaps growling, revs itself in his throat. Lucifer loves his little human, but he doesn’t like sharing them. If he proves himself better than his brothers, they’ll be all his. But their heart is so big, perhaps he’ll have to settle for being the favorite. The best.

He noses along the hollow of your neck, breathing you in, “I love you.” Lucifer feels the way your heart flutters beneath your skin and he’s near delirious with the scent of you filling his lungs.

You, you, you; your hands on his chest, his face, so gentle with him as if he is the fragile one. He’s possessed with the desire to claim you, to bite and mark you for his brothers to see that he is the right one for you, he is your favorite, your proper suitor.

Teeth strong enough to snap steel, ghost around your jugular and draw in a sharp gasp from you. But he refrains from blemishing your precious human skin. When his head is clearer (if it ever will be clearer around you), he’ll mark you so, so carefully.

Your hands tangling into the roots of his hair brings him back into the moment, and he reaches his head back to capture your lips. Yes, he’ll just have to do this again.

#verified hyperfixat post #obey me #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer obey me #yandere obey me shall we date #yandere obey me #yandere lucifer #obey me lucifer x you #rahh

[yoga-onion]

Legends of the humanoids

Reptilian humanoids (13)

Melusine – mythical humanoid serpent transformed into a dragon

Melusine is a water spirit from French folklore and an example of human–animal marriage as well as princess Toyotama (See) in the East. She is a humanoid hybrid whose upper body is that of a beautiful woman in medieval costume, but whose lower body is that of a snake, and is also said to be a dragon nymph, as she has dragon wings on her back. She is also sometimes thought to be associated with mermaid lore. The Starbucks logo is also inspired by her.

Mélusine was the daughter of Pressine, the Fountain Fay, and Elinas, King of Albany, Scotland. Her mother placed a curse on Mélusine and her sisters that for one day a week they would assume the form of a snake from the waist down. Furthermore, if anyone saw them in their true form, they would be permanently remain forever the lower body of a snake and with wings.

Raymondin, Count of Poitou, who had left his family after accidentally killing his uncle, while hunting in the forest, met Melusine one day, fell in love and married her after making a covenant that he would never look at her on Saturdays. She brought her husband wealth and they had ten children. 

However, when her husband heard a malicious rumour, he broke his promise and saw Melusine's true identity while she was bathing. Locked alone in her room, her upper body was human, but her lower body was that of a giant snake (or fish). She then assumes the form of a dragon, provides him with two magic rings, and flies off, never to be seen again. She returns only at night to nurse her two youngest children, who are still infants. Although many of Melusine's children had the nature of monsters, it is said that the future French monarch stood from the lineage of two children born normal.

Melusine's sons:

Julian (said to have later become King of Cyprus)

Eudes (whose appearance and face appear to be on fire)

Guy (said to have later become king of Armenia)

Antoine (with a lion's foot growing out of one cheek)

Renault (with one eye)

Geoffroy (with one large tusk)

Fromont (with a hair-covered birthmark on his nose)

Olivre (with three eyes)

伝説のヒューマノイドたち

ヒト型爬虫類 (13)

メリュジーヌ 〜竜に変身した神話上の人型蛇の妖精

メリュジーヌは、フランスの民間伝承に登場する水の精霊で、東洋の豊玉姫（参照）と同様に異類婚姻の一例である。上半身は中世の衣装をまとった美しい女性の姿だが、下半身は蛇の姿をしており、背中に竜の翼が生えていることから竜の妖精とも言われている、人型のハイブリッド。また、人魚の伝承と結びつけて考えられることもある。スターバックスのロゴにもなっている。 

メリュジーヌは、泉の妖精プレッシナとスコットランドのオルバニー王エリナスの娘である。母親はメリュジーヌと妹達に、週に1日だけ腰から下が蛇の姿となるという呪いをかけた。さらに、もし変身した姿を誰かに見られた場合には、永久に下半身が蛇で翼を持った姿のままとなってしまう。 

ポワトゥー伯爵のレイモンダンは、誤って叔父を殺してしまったために家を出ていたが、ある日メルジーヌに出会って恋に落ち、メルジーヌは「土曜日には絶対に自分を見ない」という誓約を交わして彼と結婚した。メリュジーヌは夫に富をもたらし、10人の子供をもうけた。 

しかし、悪意のある噂を聞いた夫は誓いを破り、入浴中のメリュジーヌの正体を目撃してしまう。部屋にひとり閉じこめられた彼女の上半身は人間だったが、下半身は巨大な蛇（または魚）のものだった。 そして彼女は竜の姿になり、夫に2つの魔法の指輪を与えると飛び去り、二度と姿を現すことはなかった。彼女は、まだ幼い二人の末っ子に授乳するために夜だけ戻ってくる。メリュジーヌの子供達の多くは化け物の性質を持っていたものの、問題なく生まれた2人の子供の血統からは、後のフランス君主が立ったという。 

メリュジーヌの息子たち: 

ユリアン（後にキプロスの王になったという）

ウード（外見と顔が炎のように燃えて見える）

ギイ（後にアルメニアの王になったという）

アントワーヌ（片頬に獅子の足が生えている）

ルノー（一つ目）

ジョフロワ（大牙が一本あり）

フロモン（鼻の上に毛で覆われたアザがある）

オリブル（三つ目）

#melusine #hybrid serpent #mermaid #fay #dragon #humanoids #legendary creatures #hybrids #hybrid beasts #cryptids #therianthropy #legend #mythology #folklore #nature #art

[aphroditelovesu]

Kinktober Day Nineteen — Thigh Riding

❝ 🔮 — lady l: day nineteen of kinktober!! :)

❝🔮pairing: yandere!sirius black x female!reader.

❝warnings: smut, NSFW, female and male masturbation, fingering, thigh riding, public sex (?).

❝🔮word count: 800.

The Gryffindor Common Room is a magical and welcoming place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As soon as you walk past the portrait of the Fat Lady that guards the entrance, it's as if you've entered a fairy tale. The walls are covered with red and gold tapestries, which shine in the light of the candles that illuminate the room.

In the center of the room is a large fireplace that crackles warmly, providing a cozy retreat on cold winter days. Soft, cushioned armchairs surround the fireplace, inviting students to settle in and share stories, spells, and laughter.

An imposing golden lion, the emblem of Gryffindor, decorates the carpet on the floor, as if it were always on guard, symbolizing the courage and boldness that characterize the house. Books of magical stories and adventures fill the shelves that line the walls, offering the chance to escape to enchanted worlds.

The Gryffindor Common Room is more than just a space; It is the heart of the house, where bonds are forged and where stories of bravery and friendship unfold with every page turned in a wizard's book of life.

And it was your favorite place to be with your boyfriend. Sometimes talking, sometimes reading or sometimes having sex.

Today was the day you decided to be more intimate.

"Sirius..." You sighed, and looked around alertly. Even though there was no one there, there was always a chance someone would walk in and you didn't want to be seen while you were masturbating by your boyfriend.

"Hmm?" He asked. You moaned as he slipped a finger inside your wetness, your pussy greedily swallowing his slender finger.

"What if someone see us?" You bit back a groan. You squeezed your thighs a little and Sirius hummed.

"No one will see us." He said and kissed her neck, adding a second finger into her tight pussy. You groaned and sank into the seat.

Sirius lifted the skirt you were wearing and licked his lips at the perfect view of your pussy. You sighed and spread your legs, giving him full access.

He rubbed your clit gently with his thumb and you moaned. Sirius curled his fingers and deepened them into your heat, hitting your g-spot causing you shivers of pleasure. He kissed your lips softly, fucking you with his fingers.

You moaned and squeezed your legs, trying to get more friction. Sirius shook his head in denial and removed his fingers from her pussy. You whimpered.

He frowned and smiled mischievously, "I want to try something different with you."

You raised your eyebrow, “What?”

Sirius didn't respond at first, he quickly removed his clothes and sat down in another armchair and patted his thigh. You got up and walked over to him and sat on his lap.

"Ride my thigh."

You smiled and sat on his right thigh and moaned at the contact of his hot skin against your wet and painfully aroused pussy.

Sirius held your waist, helping you balance and kissed your neck, his hands gently squeezing your breasts. You moved your body forward against Sirius' muscular thigh and moaned, your clit being stimulated by the contact.

Sirius pinched your nipple and you grunted, moving your hips faster and moaning as the stimulation sent waves of pleasure through your body. You looked down and smiled at the sight of Sirius' hard, painful looking cock, but he didn't seem bothered.

You took your hand to his cock and masturbated it lightly, Sirius looked up confused but when he saw the determined and pleasured expression on your face, he leaned back in the armchair and relaxed under his touch.

"P-Princess..." Sirius moaned when you squeezed his sensitive glans, making movements up and down his cock. You rubbed yourself against his thigh, your wet pussy moistening the spot, making it more slippery and easier to move.

Sirius squeezed your waist and kissed your right breast, his tongue sucking your nipple. You moaned and rubbed harder against his thigh, feeling your climax approaching. You masturbated Sirius quickly and carefully, the way you knew he liked to be touched.

You moaned as you came, your cum wetting Sirius' damp thigh. You made a few more movements up and down his dick and soon he came in your hand. You took a deep breath and pulled him into a passionate kiss. Sirius hugged you and brought you closer, taking you in a protective and careful hug.

Like he always did after sex.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober day 19 #harry potter #hp #sirius black x reader #yandere harry potter #yandere hp #yandere sirius black #yandere sirius black x reader #smut

[reyla-the-black-wolf]

My heart speaks for you (Part 2)

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

Pairing: Eris x f!reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: angsty fluff?, angst, hints of anxiety, anxiety attack, nightmare

Summary: Y/n is the youngest child of the High Lord of the Night Court and lives a slightly different life than the rest of her family. But what happens, when an unexpected visitor enters the stage and decides to completely change her life?

A/N: Hey guys! It took me a bit longer to write this chapter than I had planned to (accidentally deleted a part of the story ups) but finally did it! And I recommend you listen to "Remember that night" by Sara Kays and "The night we met" by Lord Huron.

Anyway, enjoy reading! 😙

Part 1 ⎮Part 2 ⎮

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Six days. Six days had passed since the incident in the conference room. Six tough days and not a single glimpse of him. No word, no letter, no message of any kind.

The water of the Sidra washed up on the shore in mesmerising waves, each time stealing a bit more of the glittering sand. Sunlight reflected off the mirrored surface, magically illuminating the facade of the River House. 

The hammock I sat in swayed gently in the afternoon breeze and, thanks to Elain, the sun didn´t bother me too much. My aunt had planted two Illyrian oaks in our garden the year I was born, providing shade now that they had grown from tiny sprouts into strong, sturdy trees. As I became older, I found my favourite reading spot underneath them. They stood a few feet from the River House and were the perfect place to relax and simply be. 

A piece of bark crumbled onto the pages of the book I was holding right now. `Feathers and Fire´ was written in large, ornate letters on the leather-bound cover. Nesta had borrowed me one of her novels to keep me company, as I had spent the last few days mostly by myself. 

I give up! After reading the same paragraph for the third time in a row, I finally slammed the book shut. I had really tried to concentrate on the story in the last hour, but my mind had drifted off more than once. And always back to the same place. 

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I was in shock. Or so I thought, as I couldn´t think clearly. My mind was racing and my heart was pounding so loudly that all of Velaris must´ve heard it.

Mate. Eris Vanserra was my mate. 

I couldn´t believe it. I mean, he doesn´t even know me?

The beige sofa under my legs felt too soft, as if it wanted to pull me into a hug and never let go. And the ticking clock on the opposite wall made my ears twitch in annoyance, so I decided to get up and pace around the living room, trying to quiet my mind. I was massaging my temples to ground myself a little when a soft touch stopped me in my tracks. Small, gentle fingers starting to trail along my shoulder in a soothing rhythm. 

„Sweetheart, look at me, please.“ My mother´s calm voice made me turn to her. „Everything´s going to be all right.“ She radiated pure love. „Whatever happens next, I want you to know you´re not alone. I´m here for you, okay, honey?“ It helped slow down my racing heart a little, but not enough. I sincerely hoped my father and his brothers hadn´t beaten Eris to death just out of anger. 

Just as I thought of them, three men winnowed into the living room. With long strides, my father rushed towards me, some of his darkness still clinging onto him, and cupped my face with both hands. „Darling, are you all right? Are you hurt? Do you need anything?“ He asked worriedly as he inspected me for any injuries, whatever he was looking for. 

I withdrew from his grasp, spun around once to show him I was fine, and put on my most reassuring smile to calm his worries, making his tensed muscles relax. „I´m so sorry. I never wanted you to see this.“ Regret seeped into his voice. „But…“ He paused, visibly struggling to find his next words. „Did the bond snap for you too?“ The question caught me entirely off guard, as I thought he was angry with me, trying to argue. I could almost feel my family holding their breath, dreading my answer. Silky hair fell around my face, casting tender shadows on my features as I shook my head. A quick glance at my parents and I knew they were having a silent conversation. Sweat formed on my palms as I unconsciously clenched my hand into a fist. With each passing second, an unpleasant feeling returned to my stomach, making me want to throw up.

It spread even further when my father turned his attention back to me, and my heart sank as I noticed the sudden change in his expression. A completely blank canvas. The mask of a High Lord. Others probably wouldn´t see through his masquerade of deceit. But I could. I did. I had studied his features over the years, every time he put it on. How his jaw tightened just an inch, noticeable only to the trained eye. How his eyes shimmered in a more vibrant shade of violet. I´d seen him in his role so many times that I´d learned to watch out for him. The real him. Not the High Lord, but my father. He kept his face sealed, but I could see what he hid behind that mask. Fury over Eris. His worry. But the strongest emotion was his love for me. 

„I want you to stay away from him. Or even talk to him.“ Someone had just knocked all the air out of my lungs and punched me in the guts. I hadn´t been braced for what was to come. My pulse skipped a beat and the blood in my veins began to boil. He can´t do this! Voices shouted in my head and a lump formed in the back of my throat. But why? I didn´t even know Eris, even though he was my mate. I shouldn´t be so disappointed. He is practically a stranger. 

At a loss for words, I stared at my parents. „We don´t want to make decisions about your life, but Eris is a... complicated man.“ my mother interjected. You mean dangerous. 

„Wait, Eris is your mate?“ I flinched and turned around, only to spot my brother hidden in the darkness with a shit-eating grin on his face. „Finally something interesting is happening.“ he chuckled, earning him a slap on the neck from Cass. „Hey!“ he cried out as my father shot him a warning glare before continuing his lecture. „Darling, listen. We only want to protect you and make sure you don´t get hurt. And Eris is not good company. He has proven that several times in the past. So please believe us when we tell you to stay away from him. We have our reasons.“ And what are they? A knot tightened in my stomach when I heard Azriel whispering from behind: „Especially after what he did to Mor.“

But he is my mate! Even if we don´t know each other well, don´t I have the right to figure out what´s happening between us? My mind screamed at me. Say something! Anything! You know you can! I forced my thoughts to shut down. We would not have this conversation now. Fight back! But I didn´t. I understood that my parents were trying to protect me. They were angry, no doubt, but with the love in their eyes, I couldn´t argue against them. 

So I only looked up and nodded, giving them a coy smile, even though it felt wrong. So terribly wrong. 

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This moment had been stuck in my head for the past few days. Although I´d agreed not to approach Eris, somehow I still hoped he would talk to me. Maybe to explain when and how the bond had snapped for him. 

Starlight? Az is waiting for you in the training ring.

Oh, right. I looked at the sun, which was already sinking deeper into the sky. Uncle Az had asked me yesterday if I wanted to train with him. We usually met at the same time every week to train, but over the last few days he had become more careful around me, giving me more space.

I quickly stowed the book away, not wanting Nesta to get upset if something happened to her beloved book. Changing into my fighting gear, I winnowed to meet Azriel. 

„Faster!“ Azriel shouted, lunging forward, but not fast enough. I sidestepped his punch to the right, and in the brief moment his defence was down, I landed three swift blows to his ribs. He groaned in pain and tried to sweep me off my feet in one smooth motion. Just as I was about to dive again, my back hit the sandy ground, Truthteller at my throat. A sweaty Azriel lay on top of me. 

He pulled me up, brushing the sand from my clothes. „That wasn´t too bad, but you´re less focused today.“ A questioning look crossed his face for a second as he looked down at me, then it returned to his usual straight expression.

I opened my mouth slightly as if to reply, but shrugged instead and walked towards the edge of the training ground, breathing heavily. Az only threw a knowing look in my direction. He knows. He knows how I feel. 

We had been training for about two hours and I didn´t know how my muscles were still able to keep me standing, but anyway, I was grateful for them when I winnowed us back to the River House for dinner. 

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After a quick shower, I now sat opposite to my brother at the wooden table eating dinner and it was truly a symphony for the senses. Wine glasses clinking. Knives scraping against plates. The aromatic scent of grilled steak and vegetables wafting through the room as my family engaged in a huge debate about who had the biggest wingspan. All I could do was smile at the silliness of it all and feel it seep into my soul. 

My father stroked my back lazily beside me, probably to keep calm, as Nyx started throwing peas across the table at Cassian, who dodged them. It really was ridiculous. „Seriously! A little decency, please!“ Amren hissed at this `display of strength´. Mor chuckled, „They´re Illyrians. Do you really think their egos would just ignore it if someone with bigger wings came along?“ My mother nearly choked on her wine at this comment, earning an amused look from her husband. „Can we all just calm down a little before the whole dining room is decorated with pieces of food?“ A quick, stern glance around the table from the High Lord and everyone resumed eating, interrupted now and then by a few giggles.

Ten minutes had passed, and the others had just finished chatting about upcoming events in Velaris, when Amren apparently decided to break the comfortable silence. „So y/n. Has anything been happening with the Autumn Heir lately?“ The wicked smirk on her face made her look like a cat that had caught a mouse to play with. All of a sudden, the room fell silent and everyone stopped eating. I felt my father stiffen beside me, his muscles tense. „Amren.“ Azriel warned, a low growl escaping his throat. „What? Just a sincere question.“ Not impressed by his threatening face. Not in the slightest.

Of course, the incident with Eris had spread around the River House throughout the last few days, fuelling rumours, but the others hadn´t said anything to me yet. I should have guessed that it was only a matter of time until the tension would blow up.

I think I might throw up. I certainly wasn´t in the mood to talk about it with my family. Not today. My blood froze as I gathered the strength to look into Amren´s cold, steely eyes, which were fixed directly on me. She didn´t even flinch when my father shot her a terrifying glare that would send shivers down your spine. 

Words began to flow into my mind, begging to be heard and a familiar feeling crept through my entire body, making my nerves go blank. It felt like I couldn´t breathe. 

„Are you all right, dear? You look a bit pale.“ she said, making me feel even more nauseous. „Amren, don´t.“ Everyone had stopped breathing by now. „You don´t have to answer her question, darling.“ My father´s hand darted out to graze my fingers, but I pulled back at the sensation. „You are his mate y/n, aren´t you? Must be desperate to know why.“ „Enough!“ Pure darkness collected in the corners of the dining room, ready to consume everything. I´d never seen my father so pissed off. „Why would you say such a thing?“ Mor uttered. „Exactly! She´s my sister, I´m the only one allowed to make fun of her!“, Nyx joined in. „I´m in the mood for some trouble.“ she responded honestly, taking a sip from her wine glass, completely untroubled. 

Everyone began to talk over each other, making it difficult to distinguish the individual voices. Tears welled up in my eyes as I covered my ears. The noise was becoming too much to bear. I sniffled, holding back a cry as I stood up and took a few steps away from the table. My chair scraped along the floor, causing everyone to turn around to me and all the shouting stopped. The tears began to trickle down my cheeks as my mother noticed them first, „Sweetheart, we´re so sorry.“ She stood up too. „We didn't mean to make you cry.“ Mor tried to reassure me, guilt clouding her voice. Everything felt too overwhelming. Leave. Walk away. Get out of this situation. 

„Starlight, come here. It´ll be fine.“ He took a few steps in my direction, but I quickly held my hand up in front of him to keep a distance between me and my father. 

„Y/n. Darling, we´re…“ But he stopped when I shook my head and scowled at him. Stared at all of them, anger written on my face, before I winnowed to my room. Leaving them all guilty and silent. 

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With my back against the door, I sank to the floor, tears streaming down my face. It´s my life! I get to decide how I deal with Eris! Why do they keep talking about it like it isn´t my decision? Like it´s not my life? 

My nails scraped the floor, attempting to hold on to something, anything, as I spiralled down a path I didn´t want to go. A guttural sound escaped my lips as my hand clenched into a fist and slammed into the expensive wood panels beneath me. Pain shot through my knuckles, making me want to scream. Anger. Fear. Emptiness. These emotions ran through my mind as my body shook with sobs. Why can´t I just talk? I want to, but I can´t... I don´t know... the words just won´t come out when I try. It made me even angrier when I thought about it. Do I not feel safe enough around my own family to talk to them? Or is there something wrong with me? 

A knot formed in my stomach. I had never had a big problem with myself before. Not with my body, nor with my inability to speak to others. But now I wished, longed to talk to someone. Just someone who understood me. Someone who...

A certain scent wafted through the room making me pay attention. Was that smoke? I sat up straighter to observe my own bedroom. Books were scattered across the floor and the door to the neighbouring bathroom was open. My bed was made, covered in indigo silk sheets that shimmered slightly in the moonlight streaming in through the closed windows. A few plants hung from the frescoed ceiling. Nothing more.

My eyes were no longer watery and my heartbeat had stabilised. But I could still smell that there was... something. Parchment.

I looked over at my desk, which was littered with various rolls of parchment, papers and pencils of all kinds. But right in the middle. Something had changed. 

Slowly, on shaky legs, I got up and walked over to my desk. A crimson envelope lay there, and next to it a shiny golden feather with light brown spots. I couldn´t remember putting anything like that here. It smelled of an open fire, fresh rain and a hint of vanilla. 

Deep down I knew who must have sent it. I opened the letter with trembling hands.

 ・✧✵✧・✧✵✧・

Hello Princess,

Do you remember the night we met? To be honest, I can´t forget you. Standing on the balcony in your stunning gown, watching the stars fall upon you, even though they couldn´t diminish your appearance. At first I wasn´t sure how to approach you, but I did it anyway.

And it turned out to be one of the most wonderful nights I have ever had, and I wanted to thank you for it.

I could almost hear him chuckling to himself as a warmth filled my heart.

As you probably know by now, I'm your mate, but I don´t want you to feel obligated to anything that concerns me. It is your decision whether or not you wish to meet with me. ( Though I wouldn´t mind, of course) 

A blush spread across my tear-stained cheeks and I instinctively smiled. He had thought of me. He really had. My heart melted like snow in early spring. Something about him made me feel complete and understood. 

But if that´s the case, winnow to the border of Autumn in two days. I´ll be waiting for you under a birch tree when the sun sets. You can´t miss it. Sleep well, Princess! 

His letter also contained a small note. 

(Oh, the feather and the paper you write on will appear on my desk as soon as you write back).

・✧✵✧・✧✵✧・

I was speechless. Not just because he had thought of me or wanted to meet me. No. But because he would let me decide for myself. He wouldn´t force me to accept the bond, even if it hadn´t snapped for me yet. 

Not wanting to think clearly at the moment, I did the only thing that seemed right. I broke the agreement with my parents. 

I pulled out the chair, sat down, picked up the quill and wrote back. 

Half an hour later, I was lying in my bed, surrounded by fluffy pillows and a gentle night breeze caressing my form. A few candles were lit to provide some sort of night light. 

Just as I was falling asleep, footsteps came from the hallway and my bedroom door creaked as it slowly opened. I quickly closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep, not wanting to talk to whoever it was. „Darling, are you still awake?“ My father´s voice echoed through the room as he peeked out from behind the door. 

Just breathe. He won´t recognise it.

And he didn´t. He only walked over to my bed and tucked a few loose strands of hair behind my ear, while the last thing I heard was him whispering: „I´m deeply sorry, Starlight.“ before he silently walked out of my room, leaving me alone. 

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Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not the slightest flicker of light. Total darkness consumed everything around me. No light, nor sun, nor any kind of something... soft. Something to keep me warm as the cold crept up my body, like a hidden shadow from the depths of darkness. 

I gasped for some air to reach my lungs, but all I could inhale was dust. Air! I need air! My lungs began to burn from the lack of oxygen and a tingling sensation shot through my entire being.

I felt like a flame being smothered as a deep, dark wave crashed over me, trying to drown me, as if I were nothing. As if I didn´t matter. 

The darkness drew closer with each passing second. Minute? Hour? Time didn´t matter in this place of emptiness. A place without walls or windows or even solid ground. The only things that trapped me were my own thoughts and the giant beast I couldn´t see, but felt. It swallowed everything around it as its claws raked along my skin, my soul, leaving scratches all over me.

I screamed, but all that came out of my mouth was... nothing. Every sound, no matter how small, was absorbed by the emptiness of this place. 

My body was drenched in sweat and my voice must have been hoarse by now from screaming my heart out for I don´t know how long. Slowly my body was losing consciousness and I was drifting further and further into the devouring void as I frantically tried to breathe. Please! I need to breathe! My heart stuttered for a moment. Help... help me! Somebody! Please, I... Hot tears streamed down my face and my eyes slowly closed as I was suffocated and drowned by the beast that guarded this place. My body went limp, tired from fighting. 

A gentle brush of soft fur against my back was the last thing I felt as I drifted into nothingness. 

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I jolted out of my sleep, my heart racing and the sheets beneath me damp with sweat. You´re awake! Everything is fine! I placed my hand over my chest, feeling my pulse slowly steady as I realised it was all just a nightmare. The silver curtains swayed slightly at the open windows and the moon shone so brightly I had to blink my eyes. `Shh, it´s all right, Little one. I´m here´ it yearned to say. My breathing had normalised and I ran a hand through my sticky hair. It was just a dream. I lay back and tried to sleep again, but I knew it was going to be a long night. 

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#acotar #acotar fanfiction #eris vanserra #eris x reader #acotar fandom #@tele86 #@circe143