#dungeons and dragons reader insert

[sweetblinginrose]

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖗,

(OS Eddie Munson x fem!reader geek)

summary: Rival Dungeons and Dragons reader who has a tournament and ends up without clothes. Oops…

word count: 6,6k +

warnings: obv +18, rivalry, unprotected sex, asphyxiation, bad language, cumming inside, female masturbation, culilingus.

a/n: hey lol, i wrote this half asleep so idk how it turned out, i'll see if it's any good or not later, so if there is something wrongly translated or that you don't find makes sense, pls let me know, hugs!

oh and don't copy my idea, it's my own huh 🦄

masterlist

part 2 !!

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The Sith Order.

All the members of the Hellfire Club and your group, The Sith Order, maintained a cordial and mutually respectful relationship, with the exception of the tense rivalry between you and the opposing leader, the insufferable Eddie. You hated him so much, especially now that you had bet your grand dice, which your brother had given you as a gift.

The abandoned cabin loomed like a shadow among the trees of the forest, a forgotten refuge that now housed your group of friends and your imaginary adventures. Inside, the air was filled with a smell of dampness and earth, a constant reminder of nature reclaiming its space. The once cozy and lived-in furniture was now covered in a layer of dust and cobwebs that wove complex patterns in every corner.

The sofa, your throne, was worn out, with upholstery torn in several places, revealing the crumbling yellowed foam at the touch. Dark stains of time adorned the fabric, and every time you moved, a cloud of dust rose like a sigh from the cabin itself. Sitting there, on your stomach, with a furrowed brow and crossed arms, you couldn't help but feel the rough and cold texture of the sofa against your skin, a reminder of your recent defeat in the game.

Around you, the tables wobbled on uneven legs, their surfaces scratched and marked with circles from past glasses. The faded and torn curtains hung sadly from the windows, allowing dim light to filter in and illuminate the dust particles in the air. The floor creaked under the weight of footsteps, and each floorboard seemed to tell a story of abandonment.

In this space, time seemed to have stopped, and every object told the story of a better past now eclipsed by neglect and desolation.

You felt as if a storm was brewing inside you, a mixture of frustration and challenge that consumed you as you sat on the sofa. The defeat in the friendly game was a thorn in your pride, a small battle lost in a war that seemed to extend beyond the game of dragons and dungeons. The rivalry with the Hellfire Club and its leader, Eddie, was the real dragon to be defeated, and every thought of him fueled the flames of your resentment.

Eddie, with his arrogant smile and his ability to bring out the best in his players, had become the antagonist not only in the game, but in your mind and life. You imagined him, with his tousled hair and carefree attitude, as the perfect villain for your campaign, one who seemed to enjoy every time his group came out victorious. The idea that he might consider your defeat as a point in his favor was unbearable.

While your friends continued with the campaign, laughing, stressed, focused, and rolling dice, you immersed yourself in your thoughts, planning your next move. It was not just a matter of winning a game; it was a matter of honor, of proving that your group could overcome any challenge, even the infamous Hellfire Club. Determination began to replace frustration, and although you still felt the bitterness of defeat, there was now a new goal on the horizon: to defeat Eddie and prove that your group was the best in the fantasy game.

But... were you really prepared for tonight?

...

Eddie, with a sly smile and a spark of malice in his eyes, steps forward to greet you in the lair of the Hellfire Club, the basement of the institute, the setting of countless campaigns and now the battlefield of your latest challenge. As the girls from your club gather in the space, filled with detailed maps and meticulously painted character figures, Eddie focuses on you, his most formidable rival.

"Welcome, oh great 'Mialee!'" he exclaims with an exaggeratedly theatrical and ironic tone, making a reference to the elven mage character to underline his mockery. "I hope your spells are as sharp as your tongue this time, and that your strategies are less predictable than your expressions of defeat."

You can feel the gaze of the others on you, some with complicit smiles and others with cautious curiosity. Eddie continues, not missing the opportunity to poke at your pride: "I hope you brought your Dragon Crystal Die, because something tells me you're going to need all the luck you can get."

The lair resonates with the stifled laughter of the club members, and although you know that Eddie's words are part of the rivalry game, you also feel that each joke is a challenge to your skill and determination. With a firm gaze and unwavering resolve, you prepare to show that this battle will be different, that this time, Eddie will be the one left speechless at the end of the night.

"You are living proof that not everything that glitters in a treasure is gold, and in your case, it's not even copper," you say, challenging him as you look him in the eyes. With a confidence that resonates in every word, you confront Eddie, your eyes shining with the reflection of the candles that illuminate the basement. "I hope you haven't forgotten your part of the bet, Eddie," you say with a firm and clear voice that cuts through the tension in the room. "That Orb of Entwined Destinies you so proudly show off will be mine before the moon reaches its zenith."

The Orb of Entwined Destinies was a perfect sphere of dark crystal, with a core that seemed to contain a miniature nebula, ever-changing and slowly rotating. It was more than just an object for Eddie; it was a symbol of his ability to manipulate probabilities and destiny within the game.

The mention of the orb makes Eddie's smile falter for a moment, a crack in his facade of confidence. You know you have hit a sensitive point, reminding him that you are not the only one with something valuable at stake. "Get ready, Eddie," you continue, "because when I'm done with you and the Hellfire Club, that orb will be the trophy of The Sith Order, and your luck will change forever," you spit, leaving the boys dumbfounded, unlike his group of friends, as they were used to this kind of speech.

Lucas, with a carefree smile and a tone bordering on disbelief, tries to lighten the atmosphere that has built up in the room. "Come on, guys, don't you realize? It's just a dumb bet, right? There's no need to turn this into an epic battle or something..." he comments, his voice a thread of sanity in the tapestry of rivalry unfolding before him.

However, his attempt to lighten the mood is quickly quashed by a severe look from both leaders, who in a rare moment of unity gesture to him with a stern gesture and an almost synchronized "Shh!" The seriousness of their bet is not something they are willing to downplay, even with Lucas' playful interjection.

The battle between The Sith Order and the Hellfire Club unfolds in a fantasy world woven with the magic of dragons and dungeons, but the tension is as real as the beating hearts of the players. The room, illuminated by the flickering light of the candles, has transformed into an epic battlefield where each roll of the dice resonates like the clash of swords.

The Sith Order bravely faces the challenges posed by Eddie and his Hellfire Club. The dice roll on the table like distant thunder, dictating the fate of heroes and villains alike. You, The Sith Order, with characters ranging from cunning rogues to powerful sorceresses, maneuver through traps and puzzles that Eddie has crafted with malicious skill. The battle intensifies, with each strategic move and each spell cast adding layers to the unfolding narrative. Your characters fight hordes of infernal creatures, cross dark abysses, and decipher ancient codices to unravel the secrets that will lead them to victory.

As the night progresses, a tie seems imminent. The Hellfire Club has countered every attack, every plan, with a precision bordering on the supernatural. But you, with your leading character, are not willing to give up. With a mix of cunning and a bit of luck, you roll the dice for one last masterful play. Silence fills the room as the dice roll, dancing on the edge of the abyss between victory and defeat. Finally, they settle, and the numbers they show are the harbinger of a tide change. Your play has been successful, overcoming the defenses of the Hellfire Club and securing an unexpected triumph.

Eddie, with a look of genuine astonishment, acknowledges the victory of The Sith Order, albeit reluctantly. You, with a smile of satisfaction, accept the Orb of Entwined Destinies, now rightfully yours.

Amidst the euphoria of victory, one of the girls from your group, with a contagious smile and an overflowing energy, suggests an idea that captures everyone's attention. "How about we celebrate with some pizzas? It would be great to relax and enjoy the moment," she says enthusiastically.

The idea is met with a mix of nods and smiles. It is a comfortable and familiar proposition, a perfect way to lower the intensity of the night and simply enjoy each other's company. Everyone, except you and Eddie, seems to agree. The tension of the battle still clings to you, and the idea of sharing a table with Eddie and his club, even in a neutral and friendly environment, is something that you find hard to accept, just like Eddie.

However, aware that rejecting the offer could be seen as poor sportsmanship, both of you reluctantly agree with a gesture of resignation. "Fine, but only because I'm hungry," you murmur, trying to hide your reluctance behind a practical excuse. Eddie nods silently, his serious expression revealing his reluctant agreement.

And so, with victory still fresh and emotions running high, the group sets off to share a meal that promises to be as full of flavor as it is of interesting dynamics.

The night has slipped into a soft twilight when everyone, now relieved of the tension of the game, finds themselves in Eddie's van. The space is filled with laughter and the sound of bottles clinking together. "Cheers!" the group shouts for the sixth time, raising their beers in the air in a toast that has become a ritual.

Eddie's van, with its worn seats, stickers, dirt, and windows displaying the world passing by at high speed, has become a temporary sanctuary of camaraderie. With each new "Cheers!", the barriers between The Sith Order and the Hellfire Club seem to dissolve a little more, erased by the alcohol and the shared joy. Or so it seems...

Eddie's van snakes along the road, a lonely path flanked by the silhouette of trees gently swaying under the starry sky. In the front seats, silence between Eddie and you is a marked contrast to the bustle that reigns in the back, where the rest of the group sings enthusiastically game anthems, interspersed with laughter and the sound of opening beers.

You, with crossed legs and a beer can resting in your hands, get lost in contemplation of the nature that unfolds before your eyes. The moonlight bathes the landscape, transforming each tree and bush into dancing shadows that play hide and seek with each turn of the road.

Eddie, with his attention focused on the road, drives with a slowness that seems to respect the shared silence. His profile stands out against the occasional glow of distant street lamps, and although you are together in the cabin, an abyss of unspoken words stretches between you.

"Hey..." Eddie's voice breaks the silence, a word hanging in the air that seems to wait for permission to continue. He does not look away from the road, as if fearing that a moment of distraction could reveal more than he intends.

You turn your head towards him, an eyebrow arched in a mixture of surprise and curiosity. It is strange, this attempt at conversation. Outside the game, words between you have been as scarce as leaves in winter. You have never crossed more than strategies and challenges, and now, this attempt at dialogue seems as out of place as a barbarian in a library.

The tension between you is palpable, a taut thread that is woven with each kilometer the van devours. What words will follow that "hey"? Will it be an attempt at a truce, or perhaps the prelude to another challenge? Time seems to stand still as you wait for Eddie to continue, and in that moment, the van is not just a moving vehicle, but a space where two rivals might, just maybe, begin to see each other as something more.

"No... no, nothing. Forget it..." he murmurs softly, not taking his eyes off the road, but now looking more tense, sighing.

You decide not to insist, but this time not averting your gaze from those long locks, but discreetly examining them for some kind of response.

Eddie's van glides to a smooth stop in front of a caravan. As he turns off the engine, Eddie's expression transforms. The seriousness that marked his face during the journey gives way to a genuine smile, an open invitation to continue the night in a space that is as much a part of him as the game they both love. "Come on, guys! The party continues at my place!" he exclaims with enthusiasm, his voice resonating with the promise of more laughter and memories to be created. "We can drink as much as we want, and if anyone's interested, there's weed too. My uncle works nights, so we have the place to ourselves."

Friends and friends respond with a chorus of approval, their stumbling steps and complicit smiles sealing the tacit agreement to extend the celebration. One by one, they enter the caravan, a cozy space illuminated by dim lights and adorned with mementos from trips and caps. A bit messy, but cozy.

You, with a mix of caution and curiosity, are the last to cross the threshold. Your eyes meet Eddie's, and for a moment, the outside world fades away. Eddie closes the door behind you, a simple gesture but loaded with meaning. You stand there, still, remembering the unfinished conversation, the words that Eddie left hanging in the air.

Feeling the weight of the night and the looks charged with unanswered questions, you decide to join the group that has settled in the caravan. You grab a few more beers, your hand brushing against the cold surface of the can, and sit at one end of the narrow sofa from where you can observe the scene. Eddie, on the other hand, seems different tonight. The usual arrogance that characterizes him has given way to an unusual stillness, almost reflective. Was defeat the cause of this change? Or was there something deeper behind his silence?

With each passing minute, glances between you meet like swords in a silent duel, full of questions that neither of you dares to voice aloud. After an hour of this game of looks, you feel the need to escape, if only for a moment, from the intensity of the atmosphere.

"Where is the bathroom?" you ask, your voice strangely formal in the relaxed atmosphere. Eddie points to a small hallway at the back, and you get up, navigating the space filled with laughter and conversations until you reach the bathroom.

Inside, you find yourself facing the mirror, your reflection returning an image of someone who seems to be on the border between two worlds. You wet the back of your neck, not wanting to ruin your makeup, and step out, feeling refreshed but still restless.

As you pass through the narrow exit of the bathroom, you collide with the partially open door of Eddie's room, and curiosity gets the better of you. You discreetly peek inside, your eyes scanning the space that is so intimately his. The room is adorned with posters of rock bands, metal, clothes everywhere, magazines scattered on the floor, and action figures of fantasy heroes, a mix of passions that reveal facets of Eddie that you had never considered. On the bed lies an open diary with scribbles and handwritten notes.

Eddie, with his carefree smile, leans against the doorframe, watching you with curiosity as you try to process the mess. "What are you doing here?" he repeats, his voice gentle but clearly amused by your confused expression. The scent of marijuana is evident, and his eyes, although red, gleam with a mischievous spark. He seems not to mind in the least your presence in his personal sanctuary. You feel like an intruder in an unknown world, every object in the room telling a story that only Eddie knows. However, he, with that calm bordering on indifference, gestures for you to enter. "Come, I'll show you my collection," he says casually, and suddenly, the place transforms. What was chaos before now seems like an art gallery, each hanging T-shirt, each vinyl, and each magazine clipping is a piece of his identity. He guides you through his space, narrating anecdotes of concerts and trips, his voice a thread weaving a tapestry of lived experiences.

The initial embarrassment fades away, replaced by fascination at discovering the depth of Eddie's personality. And as he shares his world with you, the messy room becomes a map of his personal universe, a place that, despite the disorder, now makes sense.

As you survey the room with your gaze, something catches your attention and takes your breath away: a proudly displayed B.C. Rich guitar hanging on the wall.

It is a red and shiny beauty, with its aggressive shapes and air of mystery, a piece that any metal lover would desire. Your heart beats with excitement, not only because of the surprise of finding such a treasure in Eddie's room, but because metal is your passion, one of the many things you have in common with Eddie without even knowing it, a detail he is unaware of.

He notices your excitement and, with a mischievous smile, takes down the guitar and hands it to you. "It's all yours, at least for now," he says with a wink. You hold it in your hands with reverence, feeling the weight of the wood and the coldness of the metal.

With shyness but moved by the emotion, you ask Eddie to play something. He shrugs, regretting the lack of an amplifier, but he is not discouraged. With a mischievous smile, he starts "playing" the guitar silently, mimicking the sounds with his mouth. It's a parody, but there is something about his attitude that invites you to play along.

"Come on, guess which song this is," he challenges you, as he moves his fingers in the air and imaginary sounds of a song fill the room. You concentrate, trying to follow the rhythm and melody that Eddie creates. The silent notes seem to come to life, and suddenly, you recognize it. It's 'Time Is Right' by Whitesnake.

Laughter fills the room as you guess it, and Eddie nods approvingly. "I knew you were one of mine, babe," he says, and in that moment, the guitar is not just an instrument, but a bridge between two souls who share a hidden passion for metal and many other things.

A blush creeps up your cheeks, an unexpected warmth that takes you by surprise. The word "babe" resonates in your ears, a term so casual and yet, loaded with an intimacy you did not expect. It feels as if you are inside the pages of one of those erotic books your mother used to read in secret, where the protagonists, initially at odds, end up wrapped in a story of love and rough sex.

Eddie's gaze has become more intense, his eyes no longer just reflecting the reddish glow of a pot smoker, but also a different glow, deeper, provoked by your presence. There is something about the way he looks at you that makes you feel like you are the only person in the world at that moment, but at the same time, as if he is undressing you.

You find yourself returning his gaze, unable to look away from his eyes. There is a connection, an unspoken understanding that seems to transcend words. And while a part of you wants to laugh at the situation, at how absurd it is to feel like a character in a pornographic novel, you cannot deny the electricity in the air, that spicy tension that hangs between the two of you.

Eddie takes a step towards you, his proximity overwhelming, and although he does not say anything more, he doesn't need to. Words are unnecessary when the looks speak for themselves. And in that instant, in that messy room that smells of marijuana and freedom, you understand that sometimes, real life can be as surprising and exciting as the stories hidden within the pages of a book.

After that moment, the room seems smaller, as if the walls had closed in to witness the silence shared between you. You decide to break the tension with a nervous smile and a change of subject. "Hey... what did you want to ask me before, you know, in the van?" you ask, stuttering slightly as you feel Eddie's scent filling your nostrils.

Eddie leaned against the threshold of the door, just inches away, watching your lips adorned with an intense crimson and your lined eyes attentively. "Ah, that..." he wondered, feigning forgetfulness. "I think I wanted to say something about Dungeons and Dragons, right?" he inquired with irony, biting his lip as he laughed and crossed his arms.

None of this compared to the fantasies you had with Eddie. Let's admit it, you had imagined countless similar scenarios, all related to the game and its protagonist, Eddie. You had wished for him to touch you in the same way he caresses his guitar. You wanted to be that fucking guitar.

"I don't think I want to talk about that right now..." you whispered, slowly moving closer to Eddie, who raised an eyebrow and smiled widely, catching your hint.

"Well then, if you don't want to listen to me, why don't you shut me up?" he whispered near your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. He grabbed your belt, holding your short denim skirt, forcing you to be pressed against him. "I said, why don't you shut me up..."

Eddie played dirty even outside of his character. He wanted you to take the initiative, perhaps to mock you or further feed his ego, but you wouldn't allow that to happen. With confidence, you ran your tongue over your lips and approached his neck, whispering, "I don't plan on silencing you. I enjoy listening to you and narrating each campaign..." This excited him, caressing your shoulder and getting closer, causing your breasts to press against him, eliciting a reaction in his groin. "Then, shut me up. I know you've wanted to since you met me," you whispered, trying to provoke him, with some success.

He responded by pushing you against the wall, trapping you between it and his body, placing his thigh between yours and gripping your waist tightly, feeling the coldness of his rings against your bare skin. "What I've wanted since I met you is to fuck you on the Harken map, so that your screams scare away the undead lurking there..." he muttered with a deep voice, softly kissing your collarbone, causing a sigh to escape your lips. With captivating slowness, Eddie guides his lips to yours, each movement deliberate and filled with anticipation. When they finally meet, the kiss is like an explosion of fire, burning and passionate. His lips sink into yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless, and his tongue boldly slides in to explore every corner of your mouth from the very first moment.

As your lips entwine in a sensual dance, his hands find your breasts with a firmness that surprises and excites you at the same time. The pressure of his hands cupping your breasts sends a wave of pleasure through your body, making you involuntarily shudder at the intense and unfamiliar sensation. You never expected this reaction, but you find yourself completely captivated by the desire that Eddie awakens in you, leaving you craving more of his passionate touch.

Eddie suddenly stops, his fingers noticing the absence of the bra he expected to find. A mischievous spark shines in his eyes as he looks at you with a mixture of surprise and desire. With a naughty smile on his lips, he whispers in your ear in a seductive tone, "Wow, looks like the girl comes with nothing...," murmuring with a hoarse voice, his warm breath sending shivers down your naked skin. His comment, though bold, is imbued with an irresistible sensuality that makes you blush and feel even more drawn to him. It feels like you're in a scene taken straight from one of those forbidden novels your mother used to find in the library, but this time, you're the protagonist, enveloped in the heat of shared desire with Eddie.

With expert dexterity, Eddie deepens the kiss, intensifying each brush of his lips against yours. As his tongue explores yours with unrestrained passion, his thigh slides and exerts pressure between yours, finding its way under your denim skirt, lifting it almost completely, hitting just that sensitive spot that makes your whole body react instantly.

"Mhmmm..." an involuntary moan escapes your lips as you feel the perfectly placed pressure of his thigh against you, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You feel the need to ride that leg. You were very wet at that moment, so the touch was making you even wetter.

He moves it with precision between yours, creating a delicious friction that awakens sensations that make you gasp against his lips. Each movement is calculated, designed to provoke maximum pleasure, as his thigh finds that sensitive spot on your body, sending waves of excitement through you.

"You've got me so hard..." with a throaty whisper, he makes you aware of the effect you have on him, sending a thrill of excitement down your spine. His warm breath against your lips only increases the intensity of the moment. You feel your heart pounding hard as you let yourself be carried away by the passion swirling around you. Then, with seductive skill, he leans slightly down, his strong hands gripping the bottom of your thighs to open you up and wrap around his waist. The change in position allows his bulge to press directly against your underwear, which is exposed by the previous lifting of your skirt. A wave of desire surges through your being as you feel his prominence brushing directly against your sensitive and swollen clit, sending sparks of pleasure that seem to electrify every fiber of your being.

The movements of his hips are precise and deliberate, each delicious brush torturous while engulfing you deeper into the abyss of pleasure. The sounds of your ragged breathing blend with the seductive whispers and soft moans escaping between hot kisses. You are completely at the mercy of the passion Eddie unleashes in you, lost in the whirlwind of overwhelming sensations that threaten to consume you completely.

The barely contained moan escapes your lips between kisses as you feel Eddie's gentle hip movement, a movement that sends you soaring to the heights of pleasure. Still with your thighs tightly wrapped around his hips, you give in to a wild and passionate kiss, with an intensity that defies any limit.

The kiss becomes a whirlwind of unabated passion, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly as you let yourself be carried away by the overwhelming sensations. Amidst the heat of the moment, you feel Eddie release one of your legs, changing the dynamics of the position and making you feel his bulge even more. Now, in this new position, the contact with his clothed cock is even more evident, causing you to instinctively arch your hips towards him, seeking more contact, more friction. You feel his hands grip your buttocks firmly, aggressively pressing you against his jeans, as if he is eager to feel you even closer.

The brushes and hip movements become increasingly intense, a symphony of pleasure that seems to have no end. You are completely immersed in the moment.

"Mmhm... fuck..." Between moans escaping your lips, accompanied by the sensual movements of your hips, Eddie suddenly stops, only to turn off the bedroom light and then guides you, still with your body on top of his, to his disheveled bed. He places you on your back on the tousled sheets, and positions himself above you, burning desire reflected in his gaze as he begins to explore your neck with hot kisses and licks. Each touch of his tongue against your skin awakens an electric sensation that makes you tremble with pleasure. His expert hands play with your nipples from inside your top, squeezing and teasing them while his thighs continue to exert delicious pressure on your intimate area, making you gasp with each movement, holding onto his back.

Slowly, your rival moves down your body with controlled impatience, licking and kissing your abdomen eagerly before quickly lifting your top and leaving you exposed before him. His lips find your breasts, and he kisses and licks them with devotion, as if they are the most delicious thing he has ever tasted. His long hair sometimes gets tangled in his face, but when you start gently tugging on it for pleasure, he moves away, leaving behind an incredibly enticing scene that makes you arch your hips forward instinctively.

While Eddie continues to lavish attention on your breasts, his hands begin to explore above your underwear with his ring finger, stroking gently from top to bottom. "Do you like it like this?" he asks between kisses and licks, asking you with a husky voice if you're enjoying yourself, establishing an intimate and desire-filled dialogue that only increases the sexual tension between you. "Or is it better like this?" he increases the speed of his touch.

Your silence prompts Eddie to grab your chin firmly, his fingers exerting a dominant and sexual pressure as he forces you to look into his eyes. When you finally respond to his question with an intense gaze, he slowly releases you, going back down to give attention to your body. His lips find your panties, and he kisses and licks them eagerly, soaking them with his saliva mixed with your own excited wetness.

With precise and deliberate movements, Eddie slowly pulls down your panties, placing soft kisses on your inner thigh as he slides them down your legs. Once he has removed your panties, his eyes meet your exposed, naked, and wet pussy, and he can't help but feel his cock throbbing with an unprecedented intensity, eager to satisfy the burning desire between them. You feel incredibly exposed under his heated gaze, but Eddie sees you as a work of art, a sight that excites him to the limit. Without wasting time, Eddie gives you a generic lick to your wet pussy, spreading your lips with his fingers to access your exposed clit directly. An overwhelming moan escapes your lips at the wave of pleasure that courses through your body, but Eddie quickly covers your mouth, whispering that you can't moan to avoid being heard in the common area where the others are.

With a mischievous smile on his face, Eddie realizes that the loud music has concealed any sound that would have revealed their activities in the bedroom. With your mouth still covered, he delves into the task with renewed eagerness, licking and sucking your clit with an intensity that makes your body arch in response. Each suck and each lick sends waves of pleasure through you, taking you to the edge of ecstasy over and over again. Your hips move instinctively in response to the overwhelming pleasure, but Eddie firmly controls them, maintaining a rhythm that takes you closer and closer to the precipice of pleasure. With an expert hand, he begins caressing your abdomen, slowly descending until reaching your clit, parting his mouth for a moment to touch it with his fingers before inserting two of them without any prior preparation.

The sudden stimulus causes your eyes to roll back, and your thighs tighten with force from the pleasure that overwhelms you, arching your back and moving your hips towards the direction of the long-haired person. In a short time, Eddie goes back to action, losing himself between your thighs as he continues moving his fingers with unwavering determination.

He continues like this for a few minutes, not stopping for a moment, until you feel that you're about to reach climax. You grab his hair with incredible strength, almost burying your fingers in its roots, urging him to continue, feeling like you're about to burst in his mouth. But just as you're on the edge of orgasm, he pulls away from you, leaving a thread of saliva mixed with your wetness as a separation between his mouth and your pussy, leaving you in a state of uncontrollable anticipation and desire.

Eddie, eager to satisfy his burning desire, hastily fumbles with his zipper and unleashes his erect cock, ready for action. Eddie's cock, although of average size, has a peculiarity that sets it apart: a curved shape that gives it a unique and distinctive appearance. Its thickness is notable, and the veins that run along its length add texture to its look. The skin that covers it has a pink tone, with a reddish hue indicating the excitement that engulfs it. A slightly glistening liquid adorns its tip. It is an image that reflects virility and desire, a promise of intense pleasure about to be unleashed.

"How does this look, huh?" he moves it, noticeably sensitive, gently rubbing it against your clit, giving you a mischievous look as if he's playing a game with you. Without warning, after lightly masturbating it, he quickly and decisively inserts it into you, completely surprising you and leaving you breathless. "Mhmmm..." he sighs deeply, as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, arching his head backward. From the very first second, he begins to thrust into you with a dizzying rhythm, penetrating you deeply over and over again. You are overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure that engulfs you, unable to articulate a single word as you completely surrender to the wild thrusts of the guy. Each thrust hits your insides with overpowering force, sending waves of ecstasy through your body.

Despite the initial discomfort from the lack of preparation, you find yourself immersed in a whirlwind of sensations that make you lose track of time and space.

You writhe under him, unable to hold back the moans that escape your lips as you completely surrender to the frenzied pleasure that consumes you. Although it hurts, you can't help but enjoy every thrust, every touch of his skin against yours ignites a burning fire inside you.

He grabs you by the neck with a firm but dominant hand, stopping any sound that could escape your lips. His warm breath brushes against your ear as he whispers with a husky and authoritative voice, "Shut up." The words, loaded with desire and determination, send a shiver down your spine, leaving you breathless and obedient to his command. You are completely surrendered to him, unable to do anything but obey his orders as you let yourself be carried away by the frenzied passion that burns between you. The orgasm that you had almost experienced less than a minute ago begins to resonate through your body again, but the intensity of Eddie's thrusts makes you feel like you're on the verge of a great climax. You are completely overwhelmed by the avalanche of sensations that envelop you, unable to resist the tide of pleasure that drags you into an endless abyss of ecstasy. Your increasingly intense and uncontrolled moans blend with the background music, creating a symphony of pleasure and ecstasy that fills the room. Eddie, releasing his hand from your neck, begins to hit your thigh and butt with a mixture of desire and unbridled passion. As he continues to thrust into you with force, his lascivious words fill the air, whispering in your ear with a deep and seductive voice.

He tells you how much he has wanted to fuck that pussy of yours, expressing his most intimate desires with an exciting crudeness that makes you shiver with pleasure. He calls you a slut with a tone of desire and adoration, celebrating your sexuality and the way you grip his cock with every thrust. Those words, charged with lust and desire, only increase the intensity of the moment, pushing you closer to climax with each word that comes out of his mouth.

You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge, every thrust of Eddie sending waves of pleasure through your body. He perceives it too, thanks to the way your pussy grips his cock, and he lets out a guttural grunt of satisfaction. You're on the edge of the abyss, about to let the ecstasy completely envelop you, while Eddie's lascivious moans and words push you towards the most glorious climax you've ever experienced

You feel the ecstasy completely enveloping you, a overwhelming wave of pleasure that shakes you to your core. Your walls contract tightly around Eddie's cock, squeezing with an intensity that makes him moan with pleasure. "Damn, you're so tight..."

Your body trembles uncontrollably, your eyes rolling back in your head as a guttural groan escapes from your lips, louder and more heartbreaking than ever before.

However, before you can fully recover from your orgasm, Eddie aggressively grabs you by the throat again, his expression a wild mix of concentration, excitement, and a hint of anger. With notable abruptness, he continues fucking with a renewed ferocity, as if taking revenge for something, but this time he has absolute control. The sensation of being taken with such force awakens a wild fire inside you, a overflowing passion that mixes with pain and pleasure in a symphony of indescribable sensations. You are completely immersed in the erotic game between you and Eddie, each thrust taking you further into the abyss of shared desire.

Thegame is now tied, each one taking the lead at different moments. You feel Eddie moaning with an unusual intensity, sensing that he's about to reach climax. You want to warn him not to come inside, but your throat is blocked by Eddie's firm hand, keeping you from articulating any words. A slight shiver runs through his body when he perceives your attempt to communicate your desire, but it's too late.

With a few final shaky thrusts, Eddie gives in to the avalanche of pleasure, releasing his hot and trembling liquid inside you. You accept his release without reserve, watching Eddie's expression as he does so. His face shows an unusual vulnerability, with arched eyebrows and a lost look somewhere in the room. His slightly parted lips release his moans of pleasure, and his hands grip your hips tightly, as if clinging to you for support.

After Eddie releases his liquid inside you, he slowly retreats and lies down by your side. Both of you remain staring at the ceiling, and suddenly, a nervous and uncontrollable laughter overwhelms you. Eddie looks at you strangely and asks what's happening. Between laughs, you respond that you just imagined that all of this was one of his campaigns, a kind of joke or experiment designed to test your limits and reactions. The surprise on Eddie's face turns into a knowing smile when he realizes that you have disarmed the tension of the moment with your humorous comment. Both of you give in to laughter, releasing the accumulated tension and sharing a moment of complicity after the unrestrained passion you just experienced together. It's an unexpected and light ending to an intimate and passionate encounter.

[eddiemunson-reader-shame]

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader: Space Oddity, Part 2

“Fuck the rest of them. Fuck ‘em all. Fuck ‘em all, but us.”

Word Count: 4,509 words (gahdamn)

Tag List (please lmk if you want to be added!): @melodymunson , @ali-r3n , @amandahobblepot , @twihard28 , @hiimjulie

[Chapter One]

Author’s Note: Fuck me Freddy, at last I have completed fanfic. This chapter was so much fun to write, especially after watching Dinner in America and feeling so seen and validated about the weird, off putting girl and the badass boyfriend relationship.

Interesting fact about this chapter, I actually did have two friends who decided one day to randomly exclude me from their friend group. They wrote me two actual, dumb ass letters I pretended to read about how they thought I was weird and they didn’t want to be my friend. The first one they put in my locker and I pretended I didn’t get it. The second one they handed to me in PE where I proceeded to laugh at them, rip it up, then throw the pieces in the trash. People think that only happens in bad 80’s movies, but some high school girls can actually be that stupid and comic book villain mean.

*****

“Mike! Jesus Christ, don’t just throw her!”

You and Eddie were fumbling with the spilled contents of your trapper keeper, trying to collect each sheet of xerox and graph paper. Every so often, Eddie would accidentally bump your shoulder or accidentally knock into you, and when you both went in to pick up a caricature you’d done of Angus Young, his head hit your nose.

Hard.

“Augh! Sorry, buttercup!” He said, quickly reaching out with his hands, “You okay?”

“My nose hurts…” you mumbled.

“Come here, lemme see.”

His hands were on your cheeks, you were in too much pain to realize Eddie Munson was actually touching you.

“Owie… Yup, I can see where I bonked you.” He winced in sympathetic pain as his thumb brushed your injury, “But you’ll be alright, it’s not broken. Come on. Upsy daisy.”

Mike and Dustin were at each other’s throats. Dustin was reprimanding Mike for turning you into a human football, while Mike was defending his actions for making sure you “stopped acting like a tool”.

“Knock it off, assholes!” Eddie snapped.

Mike and Dustin immediately ceased their caterwauling, and looked like scolded chihuahuas, ducking away from Eddie who looked like he was going to throw a chair.

“God dammit, you’re giving me a headache.” He hissed, then turned to you.

All you could do was stand there, awkwardly digging the tip of your shoe into the carpet. Avoiding any and all eye contact.

“You look real familiar…” Eddie said, pointing a ringed finger at you, “I know you… Where do I know you from?”

“… I sit behind you in Mrs. O’Donnell’s Economics class.” You whispered.

Pure, unapologetic joy made his face bloom pink, a dimpled smile gracing his features as his dark brown eyes sparkled with stars. Eddie clapped his hands, jabbing a finger in your general direction and then pacing side to side with his arms crossed.

“I knew it! I do remember you! You’re the funny chick who drew Figment the Dragon on the chalkboard, and then did the T. Rex thing with your hands when The ’Donnell tried to erase it!”

Eddie tucked his arms to his chest and made a terrific mimic of your high pitched screech, causing his friends to laugh hard and their eyes to light up in recognition. Your eyes widened, and you wanted to immediately die. Naively you didn’t think anyone had remembered your stand against O’Donnell and her dislike for Disney related media. She told you this wasn’t Mr. Miller’s art class. Of course, you let her have it, and it almost cost you a detention — and permanent placement in Hawkins High School’s joke of a Special Education program — until your mother came down to the school with her attorney from Indianapolis and raised hell, both of them threatening Principal Higgins, Mrs. O’Donnell, and the school Superintendent with a discrimination lawsuit. Since then you’d done even more outrageous shit to make everyone forget and keep away the bullying, surely this one time would have been buried in the numerous instances of other out of pocket things you did?!

Nope. Evidently the Figment Incident was the talk of Hellfire Club, and your crush could replicate your noises to a T.

“Oh shit! You’re the Dragon Lady!” said a guy in a Black Sabbath raglan with blue sleeves.

“The Badass herself in the flesh!” interjected one with curly hair.

“You’re a goddamn legend, dude!” laughed one guy that was eating Doritos by the handful, “We even made you into a character in one of our campaigns! She’s a wizard with a purple dragon — of course we named it Figment — and they communicate in Draconic Tongue to one another!”

“Like this!”

Eddie screeched again, and the guys burst into laughter.

You couldn’t help but cover your face with your trapper keeper. If there was a God, you wanted him to burst out of the sky in a puff of smoke and smite you and everyone else in the room with lightning bolts.

“After that time, you didn’t ever get out of your desk chair again.” Eddie said, crossing his arms after he stopped laughing, “Always sitting in back, keeping to yourself. I don’t think I’ve even heard you say more than three words to anyone all semester.”

Stepping lightly, Eddie began to circle you. Looking you up and down, cocking his head to the side and doing a little bit of an arrogant head waggle.

“Didn’t peg you for a D&D nerd, buttercup.” He said, his voice gaining a sudden confidence as he stepped to you, “By the look of this dandelion yellow sweater, I would have guessed you’d be more the Seventeen Magazine and like, naked slumber party pillow fights with fellow screamers kind of girl.”

You shook your head. You stopped buying Seventeen Magazine when your attempts to apply their makeup lessons to your everyday routine made you look like a KISS reject. And you’d never even had enough friends for a slumber party.

“You like to draw, huh?” He asked.

He was fishing for a reaction. Trying to make you talk.

You nodded.

“What else?”

“… I like to read…”

His head tilted to the side.

“Yeah? What do you like to read? You ever read anything by Rose Estes or Fritz Leiber?”

“Are you two gonna stand there flirting all night, or are we gonna roll some dice?” Cried out one of the boys, the one with the curly hair.

“Yeah man, does the lady even have a character?”

“Oh she’s got a goddamn character!” Mike interjected confidently while Dustin nodded.

“The best character, a tanky character, real hardcore shit.” Dustin said.

Eddie chuckled darkly, looking at you with a menacing grin as he got in your face.

“What’s your character, buttercup? Level one human fighter?” He teased.

“A cleric…” you whispered.

Eyebrows raised. He looked up, thought for a moment, pursed his lips and shrugged.

“Okay. Yeah… yeah I can see that.” He nodded, looking you over, “A little tough tootsie badass, but you’ve got a soft spot as a healer for a holy order. I can dig it.”

Rapid fire, he then began tossing a million questions your way, so fast and in a run on you had to stop to listen to keep up.

“You didn’t tell me your race though. What is it? Hengeyokai? Gnome? Half-orc? What domain did you choose? Life? Arcana? How about your weapon, did you pick a claymore?” With each question, his sneer grew.

Mike and Dustin looked on fearfully, worried that you could not answer him. They knew Eddie was sizing you up, setting a trap with his trick questions. The claymore was a clever way for him to catch you on your bullshit, to see if you were even paying attention.

Suddenly, as if possessed by a cambion, you began to unload on him in a trance-like monotone. Pulling out a character study where you’d spent all last period drawing the same Siouxsie Sioux-esque vamp beauty of a character that made up your D&D creation, you waved the character sheet in his face while you began monologuing.

“Um no… so, Shadowmoon is a level ten half-elf cleric of Shar — I picked Trickery domain for her — and she’s like cursed by the Lady of Sorrows so her morals are like, super flexible and kinda fucked up. And she’s got like, a Sharran morningstar because I know that clerics in Advanced Dungeons and Dragons can’t have any other weapons besides a morningstar and it’s really useful for her, and I wanted to make her a healer for the party because Dustin said everyone else mainly tanks but no one wants to play support, and I think a cleric could be useful because then maybe she could help be the face of the group — do you already have a group face? Shadowmoon would make a good face because she’s gothic and really pretty. And then like, Shadowmoon would be good at lying because she could like… cast Guidance to help with her high charisma modifier-…”

“How did you end up choosing Trickery?” Eddie interrupted, snatching your character sheet from your hands.

You paused, thought it over carefully, then tried again.

“Uh… Shadowmoon was already part of my story I’m writing, so, I thought Trickery fit her personality best because she’s like, pretending to be this honest healer to everyone when really she’s on a mission to deliver an artifact to her temple on a mission from her dark goddess. She’s um… she’s a Chaotic Neutral so like, she could get along with everyone and either murderhobo her way through encounters or maybe she can change into good halfway...”

You trailed off when you noticed that Eddie hadn’t really reacted at all to your lore dump. He wasn’t really paying much attention to you at all. Nose pressed to the paper, he was engrossed in your character sheet.

Immediately you panicked, thinking Dustin and Mike had been bullshitting and lying to you about Eddie liking girls who knew what they were talking about when it came to Dungeons & Dragons. He almost had that look on his face: the one you dreaded where the eyes would glass over, and you could tell someone wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying. As if they were bored of your rambling. Bored of you. It was the look that made you want to scream and cry, and lash out.

But to your surprise, Eddie handed you back your character sheet, and smiled.

“Not only do you have your backstory mapped out, but you’re making connections to your own story setting… You’re a full on closet nerd, aren’t you, buttercup?” He said.

“… I like fantasy and sci-fi.” You muttered.

Pause, and then he laughed.

“The cyberman fighting the chimera you drew in the corner near the Special Abilities area kind of tipped me off to that.” He smiled, pointing to the drawing on your sheet.

Quickly you snatched Shadowmoon’s sheet back. Tucking it into your body, you shrunk in on yourself and avoided looking at Eddie.

“So you wanna join Hellfire, yeah?” He asked, once again crossing his arms and pacing around you.

“You think you can handle sitting with the freaks at lunch? Take a couple hits to your social life? Maybe even take a few blows…?”

You nodded eagerly. Of course you wanted to join! Your heart was pounding, and your mouth started to salivate. He’d even offered to let you sit at the lunch table with him and his friends!

“You certainly seem like you’re okay with it, but let me ask this…”

Eddie got right into your face. So close, you could smell the lingering notes of Old Spice deodorant and Sea Breeze. Hell, you could even see the areas of his chin that were lightly spotted with acne and the blue of his incoming beard. His breath was warm on your face. Steaming even. A waft of sweet tobacco hit your nostrils.

“What makes you think a mousy little buttercup like you would even fit in with a group of degenerates like us?” He asked, voice so low you had to lean in to hear him better.

“We’re not the chess club, and we’re not the Doctor Who club. This is nothing like you’ve ever experienced before. We’re the freaks, the underdogs of Hawkins High. The losers with too much time and imagination on our hands to do shit else.”

You gulped. He was pressing almost nose to nose with you. Staring you down and following your gaze when you looked at the floor.

“We are the weirdos your momma warned you about, little miss. You think you can handle us?” He murmured.

“… ‘malreadyweird…” you mumbled.

Immediately he pulled back, blinking.

“Huh?”

“I said: I’m already a weirdo.”

The rest was automatic. Shoulders up, arms and trapper keeper tucked further to your chest as you turned away from Eddie, insecurity creeping up into your heart as you grimaced.

“I’m the weirdo bitch who doesn’t have any friends, and who according to Shelley Warab in first period is ‘a fucking lunatic who is always drawing attention to herself’.” You said.

Eddie had looked confused, until the weight of your words sunk in.

“Drawing attention to yourse—… oh, hell no…”

“Drawing” attention to yourself, that was Shelley Warab’s attempt at a double entendre. But it was the furthest thing from the truth. If anything, you hid your drawings after the Figment Incident, and only drew during lecture on your own paper, when no one would talk to or look at you.

“And because Shelley Warab thinks you’re “drawing” attention to yourself, the other girls pick on you too, don’t they?” Eddie asked softly.

Your silence was all the confirmation he needed.

A large hand engulfed your shoulder. Shaking, with righteous fury. You looked up at him.

Eddie looked ready to burn down the school.

“They’re jealous. You know that right? Those jealous bitches are lost souls.” He hissed, “All they know how to do is steal daddy’s money to pay for acid, because they can’t come up with one goddamn original thought while sober. You can conjure up these elaborate, creative pieces like magic, and they hate it. Your talent makes them feel inadequate, so they try to drag you through the horseshit to make you stop. Don’t listen to them.”

You didn’t know what to say. You looked down shamefully, the Bitch of Hawkins High had her walls ripped down at last.

“Come on Eddie… look at her.” Dustin said softly, “You told us to look for the little lost sheep who didn’t fit in.”

All of your classmates said you were worse than the freaks. To them you were a mean girl. A bitch. The weird asshole who screamed at people and didn’t let boys like Tommy Hagan or Billy Hargrove come within five feet of your person before you started throwing sharp things at them.

“You’re damn right, Henderson.” Eddie responded, his voice just as soft as the fluff on a kitten.

“She’s exactly what we’ve been looking for: a shivering, lost little lamb… with no flock of her own to follow.”

His grip loosened, and he began to gently massage your shoulder.

“What say you, buttercup?” He asked, voice sweet and smooth as mulled honey wine, “You wanna be my little sheep?”

…

It had taken four years.

Four long, arduous, horrible years… Four years of screaming meltdowns. Uncontrollable rage bubbling up in your throat at the frustration of being excluded. At the lack of understanding. Nobody ever invited you to anything. No parties. No sleepovers. Not even to go to the bathroom together in solidarity.

Four lonely, long, miserable years… and someone had finally invited you to their group, saying you could belong…

The tears spilled out of your eyes in microseconds.

“Hey, hey! Sweetheart, don’t cry…”

Calloused ringed fingers were immediately wiping tears from your soft cheeks, patting you softly to calm you down. Eddie’s expressive, dark cognac colored eyes looked almost watery — like he was going to cry too — his brows furrowing into a frown as his facade of an intimidating freak immediately dropped.

“No…! None of that, sugarplum. You’re alright. There’s no crying in Hellfire Club, okay? You belong here, don’t cry…”

“R… really?”

His dimpled smile was so genuine, it made you ache.

“Really. You’re one of the black sheep now, buttercup. Welcome to Hellfire.”

The leather of his Schott jacket squeaked as his arm wrapped around your shoulders, free hand rubbing your deltoid as you instinctively pressed closer to him. You would have never guessed, but Eddie was particularly touchy. It was as if he wanted to be close to you at all times. Even if you pulled away a little bit to readjust, his hand came right back to the same position.

“Come on, let’s introduce you to the rest of the weirdos.” He said, leading you towards the others.

You rode the high of the night. You made new friends in Jeff, Frank, and Gareth, as they were chomping at the bit to get to know the infamous “Dragon Lady” who had doodled a near perfect copy of an obscure Disney character. Frank was in the middle of asking you to design a tattoo for him of Maleficent in her draconic form when Eddie called the session to order.

“So we’re going right into our main campaign for tonight, and I’ll give everyone an opportunity to introduce themselves to our new party cleric…” he looked at you and held out a hand from behind his DM screen.

“Shadowmoon.” You corrected him.

“Ah yes, the ever so cunning and duplicitous Shadowmoon; our very own half-elf Cleric of Shar, the shadowy seductress that is Our Lady of Loss.” His voice took on a low, deadly tone, as if evoking the name of Shadowmoon’s goddess would provoke divine wrath, “Hope you and Shadowmoon can handle a few good curveballs tonight, might be overwhelming… but any girl who can pick Lady Shar as a patron can handle my brand of freak.”

“I’ll work hard.” You nodded.

“Good girl.”

The campaign’s overall atmosphere was a success. You asked genuine questions, feeling comfortable when you noticed Dustin was right. No one had all the answers. The boys still looked at their character sheets and flipped through the handbook if they needed to look up an effect (even Eddie did it a few times when a player question gave him pause).

You got to name the party. Gareth had drawn a rather regal coat of arms for your ragtag group, and because he’d added the silhouette of a game bird that Frank argued looked like a chicken, you began to giggle.

“What’s so funny?” Eddie asked, his serious facade slipping when he saw you smile and show teeth.

“We… it… with that chicken on our coat of arms… We’re the Band of the Cock!” You shrieked.

Immediately there was a cacophony of screams, chaos, laughter, and a few d4’s launched at your spinning, grinning head as you laughed into your hands. Playing with the boys, belonging to a group… it was all so fun!

Eddie laughed at your jokes, even when they fell a little flat. With the group’s combined social awkwardness and typical behaviors, your own tics didn’t even phase them. If you popped your mouth in a certain way, it would set off the person next to you until everyone was doing it. The guys helped you with math if you fucked up adding modifiers, but they did it in a way that didn’t make you feel stupid. Even Eddie helped you look up spell effects if you didn’t know offhand.

Hellfire Club was fucking fun.

And you were having a blast showing off and earning the affection of Eddie the Freak.

You were sorry when the two hours were up, and everyone was packing their things up and heading home for the night.

“Do you need help cleaning up…?” You asked.

Eddie looked up from rolling up his butcher paper map.

“Hmm? Nah, I got it.” He said, shaking his head as he continued, “You did good tonight, you know. Your timing was perfect, you did well managing your spell slots for Healing Word, and you even took Cornell Notes for our party. None of my little misfits even writes down their damn inventory, let alone takes Cornell Notes for the party.”

You shrugged, chewing on a hangnail.

“I just wanted to be of help… to really try.” You said.

“You didn’t just try, you killed it out there! Now I know I can rely on you to mother hen this gang of muppets that makes up our party.”

There was comfortable silence between the two of you. Even though it was late, you were willing to walk home in the dark if it meant you could just be around Eddie for a little while longer.

But something had been nagging the back of your mind… Ever since you had found out that Eddie Munson was DMing this campaign, the memories of the inception of your middle school crush on him had come back in full force.

“Um… Eddie?” You ventured.

“What’s up, buttercup?” He looked up.

“Um… do you… in middle school… do you remember finding a note in your locker…?” You asked softly.

“… I do, yeah.” He said cautiously, “Why do you ask…?”

“Do you… do you remember the poem in it?”

He stopped what he was doing, looked up at you with wide, dark eyes.

“It um… it was about light and stuff, and uh… it didn’t have a name signed on it, but there was a picture on the bottom of a fairy holding a lantern…”

“How the hell do you know about that!?” He asked.

He began to approach you, his chest heaving.

“I never even told anyone about that poem-… Did… did you write that note? Is that how you know about it?” He demanded.

“… yes…” you whispered.

“Why didn’t you sign it?!” He asked.

His face was contorted. A desperate look. As if he was going to cry.

“… because I was scared…” you said.

“Scared of what? Of me?!”

“No…”

Never. You could never be scared of Eddie. He was amazing. He was the definition of cool. You desired him biblically.

“No… I was scared that… that you wouldn’t like me…” you said softly, “I loved your performance at the talent show so much… and I wanted to talk to you after, but then you got sent to Mr. Coleman’s office for playing Exciter. So I wrote the poem for you, and… I didn’t ever find out if you liked it because I was too shy to ask if you’d read it. Then you went on to high school, and I didn’t see you anymore.”

There was silence. Backing away from you, he wiped his mouth, exhaling a deep sigh.

“I can’t believe it…” he said, shaking his head and running his fingers through his shaggy hair, “I thought about that poem for years… First I thought it was someone playing a prank, but it wasn’t mean. It was so… it was earnest, and heartfelt… and you didn’t even sign it.”

He looked back at you.

“How could you think I wouldn’t like you after you wrote something like that for me?” Eddie asked.

“You always stared at every other girl but me.” You said, “And then I heard a rumor you almost left for California with this punk rocker chick during senior year, and I thought… Well, I knew I didn’t stand a chance because I’m not stylish. And when I heard you got held back, and that you’d be in my year, I wanted to talk to you. But… freshman year I tried making friends, and because I fucked that up, all the rumors started and everyone called me a creepy, angry bitch...”

It all in the end came back to Shelley Warab. She had been the first person you’d tried to make friends with. Moderate popularity, middle class, dirty blonde hair, she should have dominated in the halls as the queen bee. But the cheerleaders hated her because she always tried to hang off the arm of the nearest quarterback or point guard, and the cheerleaders happened to already be dating said sportsmen when Shelley tried to get in their pants. Her locker was often decorated with the word “WHORE” written in red Maybelline lipstick.

So Shelley decided to form her own clique if no others would accept her. That included you: a bright eyed freshman from the middle school that everyone overlooked because you never talked to anyone, along with several other girls of varying degrees of loneliness. She ruled over all of you with an iron fist. Trying to mold you all into her own idea of a clique that would make mean girls like Carol Perkins (the main culprit of the Maybelline insults) kowtow to her self-made band of bitches.

One day at lunch forever changed your fate. Shelley decided to go through each girl’s knapsack and dump out the contents on the lunch table, judging her subjects on the personal effects they kept within. A particularly timid friend was being dressed down for balled up gym socks, and you stood up and asked how Shelley would like it if you took her Avon tote bag over to the garbage, tipped it upside down, and dumped every single bit of its contents into the slop created from a mixture of coleslaw and uneaten sloppy joes.

Justice was swift. Carol Perkins overheard your threat and laughed at Shelley for “getting gutted by a freak”. Shelley told you to leave, and the next day at lunch had the audacity to present an honest to god manifesto written in purple pen about how no one at the table wanted you to sit with them anymore, complete with signatures. Carol had of course laughed at you next for this rejection, so you lunged at her and screeched like a pteranodon in her face, ripping up the letter like confetti and dumping it all over Carol and Shelley’s watery cafeteria spaghetti, before turning over their trays in their laps.

It was a chain reaction of outbursts afterwards. Then the Figment Incident happened, making you untouchable, because the students knew your mother wielded her attorney like a sword. Even bullies like Billy Hargrove who didn’t care about any authority figure or law enforcement officer avoided you like the plague because you weren’t afraid to threaten to use your pencil to blind them.

Your rage kept everyone away. The one armor you possessed.

“You think I give a shit about rumors?!”

Eddie once again had you by the shoulders, his grip tight as he almost shook you with rage. His eyes burned with hurt, betrayal…

And… desire?

“Those rumors… that’s all just fucking bullshit!” He snapped, “You’re not a creepy bitch. You’re funny, you’re exciting, and you make all these adorable noises-…”

“… I am angry and bitchy all the time though…”

“Okay maybe a little, but I am too.” Eddie conceded, “But that’s because everything and everyone in this town sucks. But you don’t suck. You’re smart, and sweet, and kind… and… damn it… you’re beautiful.”

He was so close… So indignant, his righteous fury lighting a spark in his eyes that made you lean into him.

“All of that hellfire in you, that anger… god, it makes you a bonafide badass.” Eddie said, pulling you in close to his chest and rocking you side to side.

When you felt his fervent kisses pepper your scalp, you began to cry again. He pulled you in tighter, his kisses trailing down to your forehead, thence to cheeks, thence to capture your lips in a fiery, passionate make out session where he bit your lower lip to slip the tongue. You both pulled away breathless, and he kissed you one more time before pointing a finger right in your face.

“You’re the most metal fucking girl in all of Hawkins High. And anyone who says differently is a goddamn moron.”

[coffeeatfouram]

SENSHI!!

I drew this as an some relaxing doodle between wips, he's my fav so far and probably stay till the end ✌🏼

[petitelepus]

Fem reader, who is a half blood of a demon monkey, passes out where Genya works at his village as a gunslinger fighter who protects his home from monsters and criminals. Fem reader is one big mischievous monkey who causes troubles wherever she goes whether it’s bad or good trouble but she always makes time to tease him and taking advantage of his shyness around girls. But she somewhat of an individual hero to some people but to the authorities, she a resistance fighter who causes nothing but trouble for others since it’s in her demon monkey instinct. So when Genya found her being half lucid on the ground, she passed out on the spot. Not wanting to her to cause trouble again, he watched her as a night guard but surprisingly in the morning, she did something nice for his village as thank you and along with a kiss on the cheek~ (basically like this comic dub lol https://youtu.be/ppvxcNa278c?si=_MW0kLOnpKI7nfwi)

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Genya scowled as he looked down on your unconscious body. He couldn't believe his luck and just how rotten it was.

Out of all villagers' doors, you had to pass out outside his?

It was almost nighttime and he had been on patrol around the village grounds to make sure everything was alright. After his patrol, he returned home to find you lying on the ground in front of his house.

You had an infamous reputation as a troublemaker amongst the village's authorities but to some, you were more likely a small blessing in disguise.

You could be a menace or a gift, depending on the day, time, person, and sometimes even the cycle of the moon and other planets. Sadly, he was usually on your list of people to tease.

Genya had seen what you were able to do while feeling mischievous, as you oftentimes enjoyed teasing him, especially... But he had also witnessed how generous and kind you would be to those with less fortune of any kind.

"Oi, get up," He grunted and you moaned against the ground, not moving an inch.

"You can't stay here," He tried again, but this time you didn't reply... Until he heard you snoring softly.

"Fuck me," Genya groaned as he rubbed his temple. Just his luck. Anyone else would have stepped around you and left you there... But Genya was a kind young man with a golden heart, who couldn't let you sleep on the ground.

He sighed as he opened his door, leaned down, and easily picked you up before carrying you inside his humble home.

His big brother was gone, as usual, adventuring and helping people, but using his bed felt wrong to Genya. So he carried you all the way to his own room and set you on his bed.

As he gently set you down, you mumbled quietly in your sleep and the young man rolled his eyes before pulling a blanket over your body.

"Don't get any wrong ideas..." He grunted as you snuggled closer to the soft pillow, "I'm not doing this because I like you or anything... I just can't let a lady sleep like you attempted to do..."

You didn't reply, as you were too far in the dream world to actually hear him. Genya sighed as he pulled himself a chair next to his bed and sat on it, determined to keep an eye out for you.

"If Nemi was here, he would be pissed that I have a girl in my room..." He muttered quietly as he stared at you and he started to notice little things about you.

Like, how soft your skin looked, how long your eyelashes were, or how... Kissable your lips looked...

"Tch!" He quickly shook his head, trying to shake off the ideas that threatened his mentality and instead, he focused on staring at the wall behind you.

And he stared... And stared... Until he fell asleep on his chair.

The morning came and Genya groaned as the first beams of sunlight hit his face. Slowly, the light became too annoying to ignore and he opened his eyes.

"Shit, I fell asleep..." He grumbled as he rubbed his eyes and then it hit him.

"SHIT, I FELL ASLEEP!" Genya jumped up from his seat and looked down, but his bed was empty and you were gone.

"Fuck fuck fuck!" The young man cursed as he ran out and he was about to head out when he noticed something on his door.

A note?

Genya frowned as he grabbed the note and read it...

'Dearest Genya,

Thank you for taking care of me last night! I had so much fun running around that I accidentally exhausted myself! I'm glad I was able to find your door and not some stranger's door!'

Genya scowled as he read the letter and silently cursed you in his mind before he continued reading the note.

'Anyway, thank you for helping me out! Your kindness won't go wasted! Hopefully, we see each other again soon!'

See you again soon? Knowing you, Genya would be chasing after you again in a few hours because of a prank, or something else you would do.

The young man groaned as he tucked the note into his pants pocket and he was about to open the door when it suddenly opened and revealed his big brother Sanemi.

"B- Brother!?" Genya gasped as he looked at his brother, "You're home? How?"

"Is that how you greet your bro-!" Sanemi was saying when suddenly he squinted his eyes, "What is that?"

"What is what?" Genya asked and his brother scowled at his poor confused little brother, "That mark on your face!"

"What mark?" The young man was honestly confused as he stepped aside to look at himself from the mirror next to the door and his eyes widened when he saw the mark on his cheek.

It was a kiss mark! But how!? Who!?

Then, Genya realized that the only woman he had been close to was you! The young man blushed and scowled, both flustered and mad at your antics, but before he could defend himself, he and his brother heard you laughing outside.

"Genya darling!" You laughed as you looked at him, "Thanks for the last night! I will never forget it!"

"You-!" Genya scowled, ready to chase you, but before he got far, his brother grabbed him.

"Oi! Explain yourself! What did she mean!? Are you bringing girls in when I'm gone!? Is that it!? You shitty little...!" Sanemi shouted at his poor younger brother.

"I- It's not what you think!" Genya tried to defend himself, but his brother was pissed.

"Give him a rest, Nemi!" You called, "I'm the one in your brother's bed, so I'm the one you want, not him!"

"You damn monkey-!" Sanemi growled as he flexed his fists and you laughed, "Come and get me if you dare!"

"You won't get away this easily!" The man shouted as he dropped his brother and went after you. You laughed in the face of danger and took off running, Sanemi coming after you and Genya looking at both of you.

That's when he noticed another note on the ground, so he picked it up and read it.

'Honestly, thanks for the bed and for being a gentleman! Alongside the kiss, you got my blessing and that should reward you generously. Don't worry about your brother, I'll handle him!'

Genya frowned as he read the note until the very end.

'Also, you're cute when you sleep! Let's do this again, Nya~!'

[forgottenstoryweaver]

The Silver Companion (Reader X Silver Dragon, no gendered pronouns for reader)

Light shines over your face just brightly enough to be felt through closed eyes. Your body whines at you for thinking when it wishes to return to that immaculate slumber unlike any you've had since coming to this world. After pressing closer to the warmth you're laying against and failing to return to serene nothingness, you force yourself to sit up and meet the day. 

The radiance of the sun pierces through a silver, leathery screen that bathes you in a perfect fraction of the sun's heat. Unfettered light shimmers from at the edge of the wing where fresh flows freely. Your hand moves to run across the warm scales that noticeably flex as your friend inhales and exhales. 

Your hand jerks back as you remember yourself, and leave the comforting shelter to the world outside. 

A pond rests still nearby, cradling a mated pair of ducks and their gaggle of misbehaving chicks. Grass greener than anything from your home stretches for miles in all directions, with such uninterrupted majesty that for a moment you forget your embarrassment. 

"Good morning," greets your bedmate with the power of a mountain and the cadence of a monarch. "I hope I didn't frighten you." 

It's easy to forget that he's not human when traveling. For months he's a handsome man, dressed in fine gray silk with only his silver eyes as a hint to his true nature. Now, in the countryside far from gossiping lips, he's true to his birth in size and eminence. 

You assure him that it is you who is at fault for falling asleep beside him. 

"I'm afraid I have to disagree with you. You looked distraught in your sleep, and I thought my touch could shield you from the night's terrors."

Last night's terrors must have fled the dragon's presence, for nothing left enough of a wound to be remembered. 

"I beg your forgiveness. You flush so brightly when I approach you like this." Spined frills on his head flex down his long neck in tandem with his growing grin. It's not just as a dragon that his closeness burns you. You accept his apology, but you feel certain his regret is nonexistent. 

"Did you dream of your home?" 

It's likely, and you say as much. 

"You make it sound like it was a land of unimaginable convenience and yet its colors were less vibrant." 

You don't respond, instead looking out at the lake. There wasn't a night without an entire nebula visible and within reach. Every pond was blue, untainted by the hands of human intervention. Behind the trees, held back only by the presence of the almighty wyrm, were uncountable beasts that could rend you apart for a meal or a thrill. Yet even that was beautiful. This world hadn't been conquered by cruel stewards driven by greed and shackled by apathy. 

"I love watching you think." 

You can't look back at him, but you hear his grin become toothy. 

"What troubles you, friend? Did I overstep?" 

You assure him it would destroy you to tell him. 

"Ahh. Embarrassment is more powerful than naked terror. At least your instincts have a response to that." Grass ruffles beneath the swaying dragon's tail. Normally, he's quite statuesque in both beauty and stillness. The only time you've seen his tail move without purpose is when you first met him. 

It was your first day here, and you were naked, afraid, and about to freeze to death. One moment, you were on the road, crossing mindlessly with your eyes on your phone. Then nothing. And then snow. 

You walked for minutes that felt like days, sure that this was Hell. Through sheets of snowfall emerged the outline of a beast, tail flicking as it looked at you with hunger. You don't remember what happened next, only that you woke up next to a fireplace, atop a hardwood floor, and with a man smiling over at you while he cooked. 

You deflect, reminding him that where you're from there are no dragons. 

"Is it only the humans who know speech in your world?" He asks, his smile relaxing to hide his teeth. 

You assure him that nothing compares to him where you're from. 

"Then I shouldn't take a form that displeases you."

Hurriedly, you assure him that his full grandeur is quite amazing. 

"I amaze many people. Kings bow in awe, elves sing my praises, and gods endeavor to earn my favor. I seek to make you comfortable with me as much as I have grown comfortable with you." 

You don't understand what he means, and you say as much. Unless he means - 

"I wish to explore our connection deeper, my friend. I have such a short time with you, with your lifespan only a pleasant chapter in my story. Friendship can only allow me so much of you, and I wish to have the rest." 

The way he says 'have' like he's a starving animal makes you shudder. For a second, your hand moves over your chest to feel your thumping heart. Are you afraid for your life? No. You couldn't trust your life to anyone more than him. But you're terrified; too afraid to move any closer and so enthralled you can't fathom being any further. 

You have so many questions, but you can only manage a single question. 

"How would that work?" 

The ground seems to shift as he does, moving from his side to stand on his claws and lower his head to you. Those cool silver eyes see right through your walls, to all the thoughts you've pushed away and questions you've already thought up answers to. 

"You've already thought of that," the dragon assures, the tip of his tongue tracing the points of his teeth. "Do you want me to take human form?" 

You don't hesitate.

"Fuck no." 

[ihavenobrainandimustscream]

This is gonna be niche as hell but i just need an opinion because im shit at making decisions

I've been writing a one-off fic for myself that I do plan to publish at some point. Its a very self indulgant and probably a bit ooc but it involves the Curse of Strahd setting with of course Strahd and a consort of his.

Problem is that as I've started going back and forth on how exactly I want to write it. In my head I've been using my own DnD tiefling character in the situation but have been writing it down completely nondescript of gender, race, or name(no use of Y/N).

Now I'm kinda tossing around the idea tho of making it a little closer to my character. If I DID I'd probably only change it by making the insert a tiefling, but I don't know if I'd wanna switch over to he/him pronouns or not. Id keep it nameless regardless though. I think I'd also be doing an amab and afab version whichever way I end up going too.

Idk I guess I just want an outside opinion, so just pick your fave and lemme know plz. Ill answer any questions ab it tho if youre curious.

[foxyexelove]

This is the Moon design for 'A Very Vad Dragon', I had a bunch of other designs but I think this one might be better.

Below are some of the old designs:

I even thought of making Moon a goat demon/tiefling:

[dragon-fics]

DnD: Hungry for Freedom pt. 2 (Themberchaud)

Summary: Now out of Gracklstugh, exploring the overworld for the first time is a whole new challenge, that requires the aid of a mysterious ranger...

Requested on wattpad

Please like and/or reblog as my account is small and I'm in some financial trouble and my work is made for a select few

pt.1

“You could’ve warned me about being needed!” I heaved and puffed as I attempted to open one of Themberchaud’s shackles. The hinge was clogged with dead scales and rust, practically fused shut.

He huffed, flopping his tail on the ground. “It was a very last-minute decision! I didn’t know what to do!”

I bit my cheek and shoved the toe of my boot in under the latch of the shackle and forcefully tried to turn the key. The key suddenly clicked into place and the joint separated, the iron falling off Themberchaud’s wrist with a hefty clunk that rang through the open-aired lair.

I slumped against Themberchaud. “There we go,” I sighed and thought about the endurance I’d need for the other three… and his collar. I groaned, face against his scales. “Well… I need a new cane now… and I have no money. All that’s at home.” I forced myself to stand and hobbled over to his rear leg.

Themberchaud watched me. “Oh… I didn’t think of that. I… I’m sorry,” he sniffled, and his voice strained, like a child getting in trouble for the first time, tragically mourning its parent’s pride.

I turned to look at him and reached for his face, big round black opals set in topaz shone back at me. His eyes were too pretty. “No, no. It’s okay… We’ll figure it out somehow.” Stroking my thumbs on his cheeks, I shushed softly to soothe him. “It’s okay.”

The corners of his mouth curled up a little. “Okay, (Y/N). If you say so,” he nodded, gaining his confidence again.

I smiled and dipped my head. “Then let’s work on this.” I turned back towards his shackles. It was a struggle, but my technique seemed to work; jamming my toe between the metal and his scales and forcing the key to turn. The hardest was the collar on Themberchaud’s neck. He kept laughing and flinching and shaking all over. I could never imagine someone being so ticklish, and his huge jiggly mass made it worse. I plopped down beside him, feeling my leg give out and burn.

“There. All done,” I huffed and rested against him, hand on his muzzle.

Themberchaud hummed. “Does your leg hurt?”

I nodded. “I’ll need to find a new cane soon. The floor here is… uneven.” I took it all in. It was a huge crater in a hollowed-out mountain, moonlight illuminating it all… not that there was much. The greatest decoration was the stars high above. All we had was whatever gems Themberchaud had brought with him. And I presumed it would all be needed, like the chain he’d brought to fly. We were curled up in a nook of the stone wall. Outside was a sea of trees. We were south of the Evermoors, that much I knew.

Themberchaud hummed. “We could try fly to a town? I think I saw a few close by.”

I shook my head. “I’ll go alone. You need to stay safe. I’ll… figure it out… somehow.” I sighed and stared up at the sky. I’d not seen the sky much ever. Jack had snuck me out a few times during the winter to come see the stars from the docks…

Now everything was so different. I was out in the overworld… alone.

Themberchaud sighed and rested his head down, getting ready to snooze. I suppose I wasn’t alone-alone, but he knew next to nothing about living. He had very few skills. None of which were useful. No could I imagine they’d be useful.

I put my head on my bent leg. I had no skills either. The most I’d ever done in life was feed Themberchaud. We both had so much to learn…

*~*~*~*

The following morning was a struggle. The nearest town was not as near as I’d had hoped. And with a weakened leg, the distance was longer. Thankfully the town wasn’t walled off, it seemed relatively unpoliced. More like a trading post that had evolved into a town. Travellers and rogues wandered the street, buying from stalls and passing charms and papyrus between each other. I felt some eyes land on me as I rested against a wall. Curious or judgemental eyes mainly.

I returned the favour, watching all the people in the cobbled street. Not a single one of them seemed to be a settler of the town. There weren’t many houses to live in either. What sort of village was this? I thought this would be a more permanent place like Gracklstugh. The River Surbrin bubbled close by and I passed a fairly unkempt cemetery on my way in. From asking around, it had no real name, it was just called the Travelling Post. Not a town nor village, just a place. Nowhere really seemed to be fitting to find a job. I found a few loose coins in my bag and bought some bread, spuds and a dull dagger. It’d have to do for now.

I spent most of the day sitting, ragged and exhausted. I must’ve looks like a beggar with my damaged leg outstretched. I suppose I was a beggar. I had no home, little food and an injury to take pity on. Can’t say I was surprised when some coppers were tossed at me through the morning.

But such an appearance had its advantages; I started to hear things. After only a few hours I’d heard of a new Lord of Neverwinter and the suspicions regarding the last one’s death. Something about the sorcerer the new lad had brought with him.

I was invisible to these people.

Another group that passed seemed hopeful, but ragged. A bit of eavesdropping revealed that they were headed to Mornbryn's Shield, hoping to meet a ranger. Xenk or something. Their hope was for him to help one of their companions, that he had a wide knowledge of all things magic. That seemed promising… hopefully his knowledge extended to dragons and where to hide them.

“We’re not far now,” said the older of the women as their wagon’s wheels creaked and clicked on the cobblestone road. She reminded me of my mother, short and plump with greying hair. “Mornbryn’s Shield is just west of here.”

A lump burned in my throat, and I turned away. Now was not the time to be upset and regretful, I had so much to figure out.

A cool wind from the lake grounded me. It was time to move. There was nothing here for me and if people were travelling for a ranger, he must be willing to help anyone. I pushed myself to my feet and looked at the as the matriarch pulled the pony to a stop. Would they be willing to help?

I drew in a breath and hobbled up to their wagon. There were a couple of children, presumedly their mother, and grandmother, all on the small wagon. Their mother was a few years older than I, with two wee lads about six years old. I wasn’t sure how willing they’d be to take on someone else for the last few leagues.

The taller of the boys, definitely twins, looked at me as their mother hopped off the cart to go to the baker’s stand. I gave the boy a smile and hobbled over slowly. “Excuse me?”

The grandmother looked over at me. “Oh, hello!” she smiled and looked me over. Her gaze was fixed on my lower leg as I moved. Maybe it would be an advantage this one time. “You’re having some trouble?”

I nodded and stopped a few feet away from the cart to avoid pressuring her—not that I seemed anything more than hapless. “Aye, I am.” I held the strap of my bag. “You wouldn’t happen to be headed to Mornbryn’s Shield I suppose? Or even close to it?” It seemed wiser to act like I’d not heard her conversation.

She nodded. “We are indeed. You too?”

Again, I nodded. “Aye. I walked from the forest just south of here.” I gestured my hand towards the wall of green in the distance.

Her face darkened. “The High Forest?”

I tried not to make a face. I’d fucked up. “Aye, well, just on the outskirts. My friend… he’s in no shape to move so I thought I’d find someone to help here and well… that’s not really possible.” I looked at the stalls and travellers around.

She glanced at her grandsons, then her daughter coming back to the wagon. “Just… give me a moment.” She shuffled to the other side of the bench to lift food onto the wagon and, not very subtly, talk with her daughter.

I looked away and thought while they talked. The Undercity’s education never really covered the geography and name places of the Surface. This was my first time seeing the trees and so much sunlight. I needed to know the land better.

“So, you need a lift to Mornbryn’s Shield?” the daughter asked, getting me out of my thoughts.

“Aye, I do. Just if you’re willing. I’ll figure something out somehow.” I shrugged.

She looked me over, just as her mother had done. She noticed my weaker leg bent, toes barely touching the ground through my boot. “Do you have a cane?” her mother tapped her head from her sea on the wagon. She snapped her head around to give her a look.

“I did. But it snapped on me yesterday and we needed to use it for firewood.”

She looked at me and thought for a moment, glancing at her sons. “I suppose it won’t be for long. Welcome aboard for the next hour or so.” She held out her hand to me.

I smiled and shook it. “Thank you very much. I have just a spare copper to offer I’m afraid.”

Ther grandmother shook her head. “Oh don’t be silly! Just hop up and sit with the boys and we’ll be fine!”

Her daughter seemed content with that, though I presumed she was still wary. She stepped aside to let me get on.

I nodded and gripped the handle to pull myself up. “Thank you, again.” She tried to reach to help me but I levered myself up quickly to avoid that. “I’m alright!” I moved to sit beside the end of the wagon and the boy that sat on that side moved to sit with his brother. I could hardly blame him. This close to him, I saw that the smaller boy had some sort of large scar, or birth mark, on his face.

It was spread over the left side of his face, and down his neck. It was a pale purple, like a healing bruise, brown spotting of the rest of skin peeked out in places. I felt bad for him. It looked like it hurt. I shifted my gaze away. The judgement from scars and weaknesses always felt so shameful.

The grandmother looked back at me. “I’m Shyla. This is my daughter Kait.” She smiled warmly.

“(Y/N).” I inclined my head. “Pleasure to meet you all.”

They made a nice travelling group. The boys murmured to themselves and Kait and Shyla yapped to each other. I pulled back the sleeve of my jacket to looked at the bracelet Themberchaud had given me. He’d want to know what I was at.

I touched the ruby and closed my eyes. An image of him slowly formed, lying down on the cool cavern he’d settling in.

“Heya Thember!” I called.

He perked up. “(Y/N)! Are you on your way back? Did you get a new stick for your leg?”

I shook my head. “No. not yet. I’m on the way to hopefully get help. There’s word of a ranger, maybe he’ll know something. And proper village that should have somewhere I can buy a cane. And food.”

Themberchaud pulled a face. “I don’t like that plan. We don’t need a human interfering.” He huffed.

“A human was what got you out of there. Two actually.”

He growled. “And hundreds have kept he enslaved! Who’s to say he won’t do the same?”

I was silent for a moment, trying to stay focused on him as my body grew cold. We were passing under a shadow.

“See?! You know how bad humans are!”

I chewed my cheek. “Oh stop it! People are coming from all weird corners of Faerun to get this lad’s help!” I calmed myself. “He’s obviously a good guy. But if I find him to not be trustworthy, I’ll scrap that plan. Deal?”

Themberchaud thought about it for a moment. “Alright. I understand. You made a good call with your brother so maybe that’s enough.” He nodded. “If he’s mean though I get to hurt him, right? And burn them all?”

I stared at him. “Absolutely not.”

The sun stunned me out our connection and I blinked to get the red hue from my vision. As my eyes righted themselves, the boys opposite me were staring at me.

“What?”

The taller of the two lifted his nose a little. “Where’d you get that?” he pointed at the bracelet.

I tugged my sleeve over it. “From my friend. The one I’m trying to help.” It was then I’d noticed that my weak leg had been outstretched to be more comfortable during the connection. I pulled it closer with my hand to lessen the pain of moving it.

“What happened to your leg?” the other, scarred, one said.

I glanced at it. How many stories had I made up about why it was this way? At least a dozen. “The story I tell everyone,” I leaned closer to them, “is that I was sleeping in my home, when a red dragon came along and lit our house on fire. And my leg got caught in the flames as I escaped!”

The boy covered his eyes and squeaked, drawing his mother’s attention. I looked at him softly.

“But that’s not true at all. I was born in the undercity, Gracklstugh. The lack of sunlight made my leg weak. It’s not uncommon.” I smiled softly. “I’m just born this way.”

The smaller boy looked at me. “Oh well… That’s better than fire I suppose.”

I chuckled a little. “Yeah. I suppose.” My smile dropped. It didn’t feel better. A burn would’ve healed. This issue went right to the bone.

*~*~*~*

I hopped off the wagon as the boys grabbed their bags. I offered a hand to them to hop down. Kait appeared opposite me and one after the other they jumped down from the cart.

“I’m sorry about your leg,” she said as the boys ran off.

I nodded, dismissive of these comments. “It’s fine. I gotta make do. Thanks again for the lift. You’ve saved me a bunch of time.” I rummaged for my spare copper.

She lifted her hand. “No. keep it. Hopefully you get the help you need here.”

I stopped my rummaging. “Thanks. And you too.” I faltered. “Or whatever you’re here for. I hope it goes well.” I gave Shyla a wave and quickly limped away, leaving them confused and probably concerned.

I walked into a crowd of people and hugged the corner of a cottage.

Leaning on the wall, I thought. I needed to find Xenk. Maybe the ranger could help. He was a kind man with some sort of power. Good to know. So, what did I need exactly?

Somewhere to hide Themberchaud… could the ranger be trusted with that?

“Hello. Hello!” My attention was drawn to a tall man opening the door to his—I presumed—home. He was of lean build with some sort of scar or tattoo on his forehead. He was talking with Shyla and Kait. He nodded as he heard their story and invited them into his home. I watched for a while. When they emerged while later, the smaller boy’s face was unmarked. He was grinning and bouncing with his brother. Shyla held the man’s hand in hers as she and Kait thanked him.

It was amazing… and terrifying. How could he do it?

I watched the family leave and run off to an inn close by. Would it be selfish to want the same for me? He’d hardly do it for a single copper would he?

“Impressive, ain’t he?” chimed a man from behind.

I nodded. “Absolutely.” I looked at the man. He was a few years old than me, strong and hairy, much like Jack. “Does he charge much?” I looked away.

“Nay. He wants nothin’ in return. Xenk’s a good man like that. Not too sure where he came from. Lotta rumours goin’ around.”

So that was Xenk. Impressive. Hopefully he could help me… and Themberchaud. I looked back at the man. “What does he do?”

He shrugged. “Protects the town. Just being here chased off any ill-will from comin’. And he’s a skilled man. Bow or sword, he’s there to protect and heal and help howeve’ he can.”

I nodded slowly. “Thanks.” I shuffled away and gave him a half-wave to be polite. I made my way towards his home. I felt more exhausted than ever just getting closer. I was about two steps away from the door when it swung open, Xenk appearing.

I flinched and he stared at me, his eyes peering at me for a long moment. He looked around at the people passing through the street.

“Come in,” was all he said and before I could do so myself, he grabbed my arm and tugged me.

I yelped and pulled my arm away with a huff as the door clicked shut. “What—?!”

His gaze was firm on me. “You’re in trouble.”

My face twisted into a sceptical frown. “No I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. Come.” He turned away and strode down a hallway.

I followed as quick as I could, entering a small room filled with shelves lined with various books.

“Tell me your name.” He stood in the middle of the room, spinning perfectly on the spot to face me. Behind him was a solid oak table with a map and papers laid out.

I watched him. “(Y/N). I’ve come from Gracklstugh.”

Xenk didn’t move at all to acknowledge what I said. “That explains it,” he said without missing a beat.

“Explains what?”

“Gracklstugh just lost its dragon did it not? Part of the city was damaged in its escape.”

My heart dropped and I leaned on the nearest bookshelf. Had I hurt anyone? What was destroyed? What did they th—?

“You didn’t know?”

I lifted my gaze to him slowly. “I did not,” I whispered.

His gaze softened a little and pulled out a chair by the table in the middle. He tapped it and I felt compelled to come forward. My leg was ready to give way in both exhaustion and shock.

I slumped down and my vision blurred. I had doomed them…

I don’t know how long I was zoned out; I was brought out by Xenk putting a small porcelain cup beside me, a soothing scent taking me out of my wordless sorrow. My gaze shifted to him sat across the table with his own cup.

“You came to me for a reason, correct?”

I bobbed my head and grazed by hand under my eye to wipe my tears.

“And it’s not to help Gracklstugh, because you did not know of their fate. So why are you here?” He leaned on the table, cradling his cup between his hands.

I drew in a shaky breath and took a sip of what he had offered. It gentle, warm and a little sweet. My throat cleared and my breathing calmed. “I helped the dragon escape… If I didn’t, I feared… I feared he’d do worse to the city. He’d burn it all, tear down every pillar, kill us all… I thought, maybe…” I looked at the cup, the white transparent liquid reflecting my face and shaken state.

“I see… you were noble in your act. There is no news of a loss of lives. Reports said that the people were evacuated far from where he would escape.” He watched me with an expectant yet knowing eyes.

I nodded and sighed. “Aye. With my brother, we stirred up some talk, got everyone out of the way… well tried to. I can’t be sure no one was hurt.”

Xenk was silent for a few moments. His face seemed blank but something about his eyes told me he was thinking. “So why are you here?”

“Well… I heard people come to you for help. And maybe you’d have knowledge of the land, enough to uh…” I dug a tooth into my lip, “Help me find somewhere to keep Themberchaud?”

That made him falter, and a pit opened in my stomach. I was about to plead when he stood up. “I may have somewhere for him.”

*~*~*~*

My mother always told me to beware of men who kept secrets and bore blades—even though she’d tried convincing me to court a guard for a summer. Themberchaud was starting to sound like her in his suspicion.

“Why are we trusting him again?” he grumbled as we walked out of the High Forest. I was looking at a luminescent map Xenk had given me from my seat on Themberchaud’s shoulders. Our target and path were mapped out from us in glowing blue and yellow ink.

I’d learned that the forest we’d been staying in was deemed the most magical place in all of Faerun, fabled for its history and even now its home to so many races… and for Inferno. Who we had thankfully avoided.

“Because I think we can. He gave me a new cane and everything, and he’s helped so many people that it has to be worth it.” I tapped his scales. “Please, Thember. We know next to nothing about this place and Xenk has basically handed us the key to get you a nice home.”

Themberchaud snorted. “I don’t want to be underground again.” He forced his way through the trees. They bent and snapped and splintered against his weight and force.

I nodded. “I know big guy, but I don’t know where else to put you. Until you can hunt and fight, a mountain would be off limits. This is the only place not held by a dragon that’s big enough to hold one.”

He was quiet for a bit, the moonlight catching his big puffs of breath. “Okay. But you better not plan on leaving me after.”

I hadn’t even thought of that. Where was I going to stay and live? What was I going to do?

“I will do my best to stay close to you, Thember.”

Xenk waited for us at the edge of the forest. Themberchaud looked at him and sniffed at his armour and blade.

“Well, aren’t you magnificent.” Xenk bowed his head in appreciation. “You, Themberchaud, are the only dragon I’ve ever seen this close up before.”

“Careful I don’t make it your last.” He snapped his jaw at him. Xenk didn’t move.

I swatted Themberchaud shoulder. “What did I just tell you?!” I hissed.

Xenk chuckled and waved his hand. “Don’t worry, (Y/N), I’m sure he was just being playful,” he said as he turned around. Themberchaud snorted, unamused. Xenk either didn’t hear him or ignored him. “Let’s make our way to the Underdark shall we?”

With only flying for short lengths of time, with a slow walking pace and only travelling at night, it took several days to reach the Sword Mountains.

“There’s a large entrance to the Underdark in the mountains. It should be big enough for you to get through, Themberchaud.” Xenk looked up at him, who was a panting mess yet again from flying over the Long Road and manoeuvring around the foothills.

I slowly slipped off his back and stroked his neck. I looked at Xenk “Thank you for your help.”

He bowed his head. “I’ll lead you into it, and help you get settled. Both of you.” He gave me a smile.

I wasn’t sure what that smile meant, other than he had a plan or an idea that involved me. I pulled out my cane to distract myself.

It was foldable, which would be good for storage and travelling. Made of some sort of dark wood with hinges at the folds and a handle cushioned by a spongy wrapping. The first length of it concealed a small blade. I liked it a lot.

When Themberchaud had caught himself, I nodded to Xenk. “Let’s head in.” The sun was lighting up the horizon and we had done so well to keep eyes off us so far, even when crossing the Long Road, which never seemed to get a break.

Xenk led us to a partially buried entrance, blocked off by loose boulders.

I frowned at the wall and looked at Xenk. “How’s this supposed to work?”

He winked and walked forward, walking through the stones. One second, he was before us, the next we saw were the bare stones.

Themberchaud bared his teeth. “Magic,” he growled.

I attempted to soothe him by petting his cheek. But he wouldn’t have it. He thumped his tail on the ground. “I won’t be surrounded by that stink again!” he roared.

I flinched and gripped by cane in fright at his intensity.

Xenk reemerged. “Do not worry, Themberchaud. This will keep anyone away from you and let you live in peace while having easy access to the Sword Mountains and the Kryptgarden Forest.”

Themberchaud glared at him. “I will not have magic around me!”

I looked up at him. Maybe I was tired and sore. Maybe I was homesick. Maybe I was just done with him. Maybe it was all that, but I couldn’t take it anymore. “This is the only way to hide you Thember!” I hissed. “This is the only way to protect and keep you from even worse powers. Do you want to go back to Gracklstugh? Do you want those magicians forcing you to be a puppet?” I glared at him, my heart thumping. He blinked at me with widening, wet eyes. “I sacrificed everything for you! My brother is hurt, Gracklstugh is broken. We hurt people by getting you out! This is the only home for you now until you’ve learned to fend for yourself. You’re not the only one stranded here! This is the only spell we’ve encountered. And it’s going to help us. So please! Stop complaining and trust Xenk! Trust me.”

I stood heaving for a while, leaning on my cane. Tears trickled down my cheeks and I wiped them furiously. Themberchaud lowered his head and whined softly. “I’ve not led you wrong. And Xenk hasn’t led us wrong… please. We’re almost safe. Let’s rest. I’m tired,” I sighed.

He was silent for a little while. “Alright… But if anything happens—.”

“—aye. I know. You can do whatever you wish. Crush and bite and devour. Just please, step inside.” I reached a trembling hand to his snout.

Themberchaud hummed and lifted his head. “I’ll go. But you’ll be the first to be devoured if something goes wrong.” He glared at Xenk.

Xenk, of course, was unmoving. None of Themberchaud’s threats ever made him move. Themberchaud could have his maw spread open to Xenk and he’d be motionless. At least, that’s what I’d imagine would happen…

*~*~*~*

Thankfully Themberchaud had taken to the Underdark.

Unfortunately, I was still left without a place to call home.

Xenk quickly left once Themberchaud was settled. He was still as mysterious as the day I’d met him, despite travelling for almost a week together.

“I must take my leave now. My job is done.” He bowed his head and rested his hand on the pommel of his sword.

I faltered, the peak of my exhaustion had finally hit, and the warmth of the midday sun was challenging me in my quest to remain awake. “Oh… well uh, travel safe?” The idea of him leaving opened a void in my stomach. I needed him.

“Do not doubt yourself, (Y/N).” Xenk put a hand on my shoulder. “Your determination and heart will guide you, just as it has now. Plus, you have a red dragon on your side—”

Themberchaud hummed from behind me. I looked over to see his head poking out from the fake stone wall and nothing else.

“—and he won’t let anything happen to you.”

Themberchaud nodded in agreement. “No, I won’t.”

My lips lifted a little in a smile, but it fell quickly. “What should I do though? I can’t hunt. Nor can Themberchaud.”

Xenk drew in a breath and pointed to the Long Road. “There’s a town called Triboar. You should be able to find some work there. Travellers pass through all the time. They’d need some permanent staff.”

I considered his proposal. “That sounds reasonable. Thank you, Xenk.” I looked away for a moment to fetch my last copper, but before I could fish it out, he was gone.

Themberchaud warbled. “He moves quick for an old guy.” I turned to him and frowned. “Don’t look at me like that! You’re grumpy because you are tired. Come sleep. You still have a bag of food that the ranger left.”

My brow creased deeper. “What food?”

Themberchaud was right. Xenk had subtly left a bag of food and supplies for me to get more comfortable in Themberchaud’s new lair. It was enough to help me temporarily; some meat and cooked vegetables, bits of wood to burn, a lantern and a bedroll and pillow. The pack itself made me look like a real traveller, which would help with the backstory I was about to make up.

And Xenk was right about Triboar. The constant stream of passersby made the prospect of a permanent worker very appealing. The issue was, of course, my leg. Most wouldn’t hire a crippled woman, much less one that had shown up as a refugee from Gracklstugh. But one took an interest in me.

“Don’ y’all have a dragon ‘n da city?” Bernard gnawed on the end of his pipe. He was heavy man with dirt across his forehead and sweat around his pits and chest. He seemed kind enough, if the swarm of animals around him were any indication.

“Aye, sir. We did.” I glanced at the dog licking my free hand while a kitten used my cane as a scratching post.

“Were ya e’er close to it?”

I found myself nodded before I could lie. “A-aye.” I cleared my throat. “Aye. I fed him regularly actually.” That probably sounded more like a lie than an actual one.

“So yer good wi’h big animals?”

I nodded. “Huge even!”

He thought again for a long moment. “Alrigh’ then. Let’s see wha’ yer like, seeing as Sandy and Pumpkin like ya so much.” I must’ve pulled a face because he gestured to the golden dog and the ginger tabby. “Sandy is my right-han’ dog in e’erythin’,” he started off across his bustling yard, “an’ Pumpkin is da newest kid on the block.”

I hobbled after him, Sandy and Pumpkin following me. “Well, I’m glad they like me then?”

Bernard laughed and walked me into the stables. “Sandy ‘as a good sense fer folks. I trust ‘im with helpin’ me find the righ’ stable hand fer years now. Anytime he wasn’t all ove’ them, I learnt quick enough why.” He leaned on a stable door, his huge palm on the heavy half-door. “So, if he says yer worth hiring, I’ll listen.”

I looked at Sandy, then at him. He seemed very serious about Sandy’s judgement of me. “So, where do I start?”

He liked that answer, grinning. “Tha’s the a’itude!” With that, the large head on a bay mare was lifted over the stable door to look at me. “Let’s get you started.”

Never in my life did I think that my experience in Gracklstugh would pay off, but there I was, taking care of travellers’ horses, day-in day-out. I liked it actually. I could sit most of the day and Sandy helped me carry, or drag, anything heavy. It wasn’t very taxing either. Just had to do what was asked of me; feed, water, groom and/or polish tack and armour that the mount had. The only hard part was saying when we couldn’t lodge horses in the stables. This was nothing compared to feeding Themberchaud.

And I got tips too, which when added to my pay and my lodging with Bernard—and his family—made getting comfy easy enough and getting Themberchaud new treasure. The hard part was getting to see him.

Mid-week was when there was slow filing of travellers through Triboar. So that was my weekly meeting with Themberchaud happened. Most of the time I brought large cuts of meat or trinkets with me. He was even starting to hunt himself, so he wasn’t shedding much weight, but his flight was getting stronger. He was liking the peace. We both were.

But about a year after we’d gotten settled, Xenk came to visit.

I sat on an upturned bucket, plaiting a filly’s tail, when I felt a shadow fall on me and cooling my skin from the late morning light. “I’ll be with you in a moment!”

“Please. Take your time.”

I snapped my head up and blindly finished the braid. “Hello!” I stood up quickly, grinning. The bucket fell over and the clatter startled the horse. I reached for her lead. “Eh… one sec!” I turned her out into the small paddock with the other horse’s she’d arrived with.

I rushed back to Xenk, hurting myself more than I’d intended. “It’s great to see you.”

He smiled. “And you too! It’s good to see you doing well for yourself.”

I nodded. “Thank you. What brings you to Triboar?”

Xenk looked at me warmly. “I need your help.”

I hesitated and stammered. “My help?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

I managed to be more confused by that. “Alright? Uh, let me ask my boss so we can talk.”

He nodded and stepped aside. “That would be appreciated. This is urgent.”

I grabbed my cane and walked to Bernard in his home. His children were helping him bake bread. “Um, Bernard? Do you have a minute?”

He lifted his head slowly and glanced at Xenk shadowing me. “Is thi’ da ‘friend’ you run off ta meet e’ery week?” He crossed his big arms.

I shook my head and tried not to pull a face. “No! No. Xenk is a friend of mine. And one I owe a huge favour too.”

I felt Xenk looked at Bernard over my shoulder. “I assure you, kind sera, this is a matter of urgency that only (Y/N) can help me with. It’ll take no more than two days. But we must leave immediately.” Looking at him, I saw his gaze was firm and sure.

Bernard was silent for a bit. Xenk has the effect of confusing, stressing and assuring people all at the same time. It must be a strange power to have, if he knew it was even a power. “Alrigh’. You can go.”

I nodded. “Thank you, Bernard.”

I followed Xenk out and he led me to a small group of people leaning on the paddock fence with a few horses. One was a bard, with his instrument on his back, a stubbled beard and bangs curtaining his face. He seemed to be impatiently thinking, it made me nervous. Then there was a barbarian woman, strong built and a heavy axe to her side as he munched on some fried potato bites from the stall down the road. Then there was a lanky-looking boy, maybe a sorcerer? There was no sign of a weapon or staff. The final member of the group was, I believe, a Tiefling, red locks, horns, and a tail. Her shades of green made me think of a druid and their ties to nature. A mixed batch of a party.

The bard turned to me and looked me over with those worn-out eyes. I had a feeling all of the people with him were some sort of recruits, additions to the party. He didn’t want anyone else to join. “You never mentioned you had an addition to the team?” his tone made it sound more like she’s not coming. Don’t fight me on it, Xenk.

I shifted uncomfortably and looked at Xenk. “(Y/N) is necessary for what we’re about to do.” He put his hand on my shoulder.

The maybe-sorcerer peered about the bard’s shoulder. “Why?”

“Because we are about to face something in there only (Y/N) can tame.”

I looked up at him. “What are you lot doing exactly? And why would I be useful?”

Xenk turned us around and took a few steps. “We need to enter the Underdark. We won’t go near Themberchaud. But even so, I need you there to keep him calm.”

I stood there blinking in confusion. “You’re joking right?”

“Why would this be a joke?”

I sighed and rubbed by face. “Why do you need to enter the Underdark and why—?”

“Please, (Y/N). I need you to help us. What they are doing is very important.”

I clenched my jaw and glanced back at the party. “But if I can just tell—”

“Is she in or not? We don’t have time!” the bard called. I had a feeling I was really going to dislike him.

With that, I sighed and Xenk said; “yes! (Y/N) will join us.” I hid the bracelet under my sleeve. I wasn’t going to get a chance to warn Themberchaud.

*~*~*~*

I learned their names quick enough: Edgin, Holga, Simon, and Doric. They were headed for Neverwinter. And after that I didn’t dare get nosy. With the help of a borrowed horse, I was able to ride with them to the Sword Mountains. They didn’t seem too interested in me for the most part—which was fine. It was better for them to not care than to care in the wrong way.

As we met the mountains, I nearly turned off, but Xenk grabbed the reins. He shook his head and I stayed with the group. With the travelling, I couldn’t let Themberchaud know what was about to happen. Nor did I want to get robbed, which was apparently what this lot did. I chewed my lip.

Next was the Kryptgarden forest. The ground was uneven and after only ever riding on the smooth ground of the Long Road, which made me a nervous rider with a bad leg. My mare didn’t like how much I pulled at her reigns and hugged her flanks.

As we dismounted, Edgin was conversing with Xenk. “Orifices?”

Xenk assured his rope was firmly around a wide trunk, giving it a strong tug, before walking in a straight line onto bare ground. “The Underdark has many entrances.” He stopped and slowly turned around, rope in hand. “This is one of the less conspicuous.” With nothing else, he leaned back, and the ground gave way beneath him as he fell.

I yelped covered my mouth in shock. Stepped closer, there was a jagged, black hole. “Great.” I grumbled.

“I’ll go last,” Simon volunteered.

I sighed and after Doric I made my way down. Xenk had left yet another secret remains hidden; it’d take a day to get to the helm they were after. I trailed after the rest; my role would probably not even come to pass.

I hoped not at least.

*~*~*~*

My mother always told me to beware of men who kept secrets and bore blades.

Maybe I should’ve listened to her.

Xenk was both mysterious and carried a blade—many blades it turned out, and while he protected others from danger, he was in the habit of drawing attention.

The murderous and stalking kind.

Like Thayan assassins.

Which were, apparently, undead. Another secret to the pile.

But their mistake was not to challenge, Xenk. Their real mistake was come to come to Dolblunde, so close to Themberchaud’s lair.

I’d stayed on the suspended city, close to where the helmet had been kept for who knows how long. I was of little use to a fight and much less able to run from assassins.

First, I heard a mighty huff, and taking a peek, saw the party was thrown back. Then came the glowing eyes, the roars, and growls, before Themberchaud made his entrance into the light.

Even undead assassins know to fear a dragon.

It was amusing seeing Themberchaud roll down his hill of bones as he gobbled up each Thayan assassin, one after the other. By the time the party and him had made it to me, they were all eaten.

I made my way to my feet, and Holga grabbed my arm.

“Come on kid!” she yanked me.

I fought against her. “Stop!” I held out my hand and Themberchaud slid to a stop before me. His pupiled widened rather cutely.

“Surprise?”

I pet his snout. I knew it was wrong to be mad at him, especially after he helped deal with the assassins. “Good job!” I scratched his muzzle and made my way to scratch his horns as best as I could.

Themberchaud smiled and tapped his tail on the ground in bliss. I stopped after a bit, feeling eyes on me. He stood up and looked at the party behind me. “I uh, can explain that. They didn’t mean to disturb you.”

He hummed and eyed them suspiciously. “And?”

“And they’re done now. They’ll be on their way soon enough.”

Xenk walked towards us first, and the party, more warily, followed him. “Well done, (Y/N). And thank you for aiding and sparing us, Themberchaud.” He bowed his head.

Themberchaud watched him for a moment. “Oh. You’re the guy that brought us here!”

I tried to stifle my laughter. “Yes. This is Xenk, Thember.”

“Wait so you,” Edgin, the bard, started, “led us into the lair of a dragon knowingly?!” he jabbed a finger into Xenk’s armour.

“I had no intention of stirring him. But that is why I brought, (Y/N). In case this—” he gestured to the entirety of the Dolblunde. “—happened.”

Themberchaud bared his teeth. “You’re not so pleasant yourself.”

Holga chuckled from behind Edgin. “I think he’s cute.”

“Themberchaud is quite the dragon.” I nodded and looked past him as best as I could. His lair was easily accessible from here, as would the hidden tunnel.

I looked at Xenk. “We should probably leave right?”

He nodded. “Yes. Best not disturb this place much longer.” He turned to leave the way we’d come.

I looked at Themberchaud and nudged him gently.

“There’s…” he huffed, “a shorter way out.” He gestured a wing towards his lair.

I petted his head. “That’s it,” I whispered.

Xenk turned around. “That is appreciated, Themberchaud.” He looked at Edgin.

He sighed and shrugged. “Sure. There’s weirder shit that’s happened today.”

[hippopotamusdreamer]

DND Night 1

genre. C, AU warnings. None w.c. 349 synopsis. Just a bunch of college students come together to play dnd for the first time.

“Ok Steve, your turn. Character name and race with a little backstory,” you asked him from your position at the head of the dinning table. Since the others went before him, you took a moment to gather their spare character sheet for your DM file.

“Um, I’m not sure if I did it right but I tried and therefore you can’t fault me,” Steve stated before picking up his character sheet to read from.

“Alright Daniel Radcliff, spill it,” Nat joked from her spot next to you earning a chuckle from some members of the group, you included.

Steve cleared his throat in an attempt to stall before taking a centering breath. “I chose a human knight. He was a lowly stable boy in the kingdom of Brooksdale. He managed to become a squire with the help of the princess. Then he slowly made his way through the ranks until he became a Knight-Captain. Uhhh, heee, what did he do?” He questioned to himself, eyebrows furrowing as he got lost on the page.

“Oh! He and the princess had gotten close throughout his training that they even considered eloping. But word got to the king and had him banished from the kingdom. Now he’s wondering the land trying to get back to his lost princess.”

Appraisal was heard around the table as everyone enjoyed his character background.

“Good job, Stevie. Forbidden romances are always a nice touch. And you left it open-ended which could be good if we wanted to bring something from you past further along in the campaign. Now all I need is your spare character sheet and his full name.” you say reaching a hand out for the sheet you’ve asked for.

Steve became flustered in his seat as he stared at the name he’d written down.

“Uhh, it’s Knight-Captain A-m-u-r-e-k-a,” he spells out, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze.

Everyone took a moment to try to sound out what their friend had wrote.

“Am..? Amuree…?”

“Americ-”

.

.

.

“Oh my god”

“Jesus Christ”

“Are you serious??”

“Did you just name you goddamn character Knight-Captain America??”

a/n. We back??? ionno BUT I did lose my entire tag list from years ago, so here we are...

[writingwithcolor]

A Careful Balance: Portraying a Black Character's Relationship with their Hair

@writingraccoon said:

My character is black in a dungeons and dragons-like fantasy world. His name is Kazuki Haile (pronounced hay-lee), and his mother is this world's equivalent of Japanese, which is where his first name is from, while his father is this world's equivalent of Ethiopian, which is where his last name is from. He looks much more like his father, and has hair type 4a. I plan to make his character very finnicky about his hair, both enjoying styling it, but also often being unsure how to style it (not in that he doesn't know how to, but has so many options for how to style it, he has trouble choosing). However, I know that there are some very harmful ways to write black hair, especially in regards to how the black character themselves feels about it. Kazuki does not hate his hair, in fact he takes joy in it, and I'm researching black hair and hair styles to be as accurate as possible. But I'm unsure if portraying a black character as occasionally overwhelmed by or vain about his hair is negative. How would you suggest either changing this or making it work? Does it need to be changed in the first place?

Black Character Overwhelmed by Curly Afro Hair

Your Black character wanting his hair to look its best and at times feeling overwhelmed seems reasonable and natural to me. It appears their challenge comes with how to style it. Not so much with struggling how it looks or how hard it is to manage. That is good, as this further helps avoid placing a strong negative focus on Black hair. 

Him caring a lot about how it is style should not be deemed vain or frivolous, either. In any case, hair care is self care. There’s nothing wrong with having pride with your hair, especially hair that mainstream society, historically and present, might say is not beautiful. This still matters, even in a fantasy world, since your readers still exist in this reality. It’s empowering and a welcome change to see someone who loves their afro hair, actually.

There are unique factors someone with coily afro hair would experience vs. straight, wavy, or looser curls, but people struggling with their hair (too frizzy, too flat, too limp, too thin, too thick!) is universal. 

There is a delicate balance to achieve.

Avoid Writing a Black Hair Journey Experience 

An overall negative Afro hair journey might be the reality for many, especially when society deems Afro hair as unacceptable and slaps so many uninvited opinions, laws and policies over its existence and on certain styles (again, historically and very much at present), but that’s the kind of story that is best handled by someone with the background. Someone willing to commit to the research might also be able to pull it off, although it’s truly not the kind of thing an escapism novel needs in my opinion. If the story is not meant to delve into “A Black /Black Hair Experience” then I'd avoid going that route. That is moving a bit towards a struggle narrative, depending on how much it defines your character’s story.

Add positive and neutral hair language and interactions

For your writing, I’d avoid using unchallenged negative language about his hair. Being overwhelmed at times and frustrated is one thing and expected. If his hair is constantly brought up, and is associated with uncontrollable, ugly, or too [insert struggle here], then rethink the direction you’re going. 

Add some positive or neutral terms, reactions, and interactions in the narrative towards afro hair, such as describing color and texture.

“His fine coils bounced in the wind.” 

“Hair black and shiny” 

“She wore her hair in two large, fluffy buns.”

“He admired his fresh, neat braids in the mirror, smiling at his reflection, before turning to leave.”

Another tip: It may have been for research purposes, but leave out any hair number categorizing in the story and rely on description. I’d say this goes for any story, as reading the number would feel off. 

“He had coily 4a hair.” Nahh! :P 

Also, I would suggest sending all passages that focus on his hair to a Black sensitivity reader for review.

More reading:

~Mod Colette

[capan-deveraux2]

Why do I get crushes on the most obscure characters?

Like Anthony (the angel of death) on Touched by an Angel

Look at this cutie patooti!! How can I not love him!!

Or Chris Halliwell from Charmed

He’s a smart ass and I love him for it! He just wants to save his brothers soul

Or Ambassador Tos from Star Trek Enterprise

THERE ARE NO GIFS OF HIM!!!!

Why are there no GIFs he’s adorable

Or Judge Harry Stone from Night Court

Or Dan fielding also from Night Court (the second guy in the above gif)

Or Jenkins from The Librarians

But to be fair I might just have a crush on the actor

Or Dr Phlox also from Enterprise

He’s a family man!! He got 3 wives and so much love to give, towards the end of the series when he can’t save T’Pols, and Tuckers baby’s life he cries and says it hurts like it’s one of his own. So much love in this man that when his friends hurt he hurts

And he feels insulted when Tucker doesn’t want to sleep with one of his wives after she pursues him so we know he’s good with sharing lol

Or Ringo Langley from X-Files and The Lone Gunmen

(The blonde one in the middle here)

He’s such a sweetheart cutie pie!! How can one not love him! He plays dungeons and dragons and dresses up like his character when he does and writes for a newspaper. He matches my freak lol

Or Graverobber from Repo the Genetic Opera

He’s so dramatic!! I love him. He sings ! And I love his hair!

Or Odo from Deep Space Nine

WHY CANT I FIND A GOOD GIF OF HIM!!!

And finally (at the risk of being called a furry

Why is the no reader inserts for Skimbleshanks, Mr mistoffles, or Rum Tum Tugger!!!

THERE IS NO GOOD GIFS OF SKIMBLSHANKS!!

But look at my boi mistofflees hop and dance, he’s a tuxedo cat that’s also a magician!!

And look a tugger go! He’s a bad boi stereotype

I ran out of room for gifs but those are the main ones anyway

I’m gonna have to make an appreciation post for each of these guys individually, hell I used to write fanfic for a couple of them before I got locked out of my old tumblr account

[sweetblinginrose]

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖗 | 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖙𝖜𝖔,

(OS Eddie Munson x fem!reader geek)

summary: The girl goes in search of answers and ends up with the metalhead's cock in her throat... who would have thought…

word count: 8,3k +

warnings: obv +18, rivalry, ingestion of alcohol and joints, almost gave Sinclair a withey, spanking, blowjob in public.

a/n: hey guuurls, i wrote a second part since @alastorssimp asked for it and i reconsidered it. not sure if it’ll be as good as you said the first part was, but i think it’s alright, ig. the problem is the translation. if there’s anything you don’t get, let me know.

oh, and sorry for taking so long, i’m busy with my exams hehe.

kisses!!

oh and don't copy my idea, it's my own huh 🦄

masterlist

before reading this part, you have to read this one!

━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━

In the darkness of the room, you and the long-haired boy lay in an oasis of intimacy, surrounded by an ocean of sheets that kept the secrets of your most vulnerable moments. The sheets, wrinkled and disordered, were a canvas of memories, impregnated with the aroma of tobacco that mixed with the freshness of the night and the sweet vestige of recently consummated sex.

His room, a sanctuary of orderly chaos, exuded warmth despite its disarray. Magazines with their folded pages and worn edges lay scattered on the floor, testimony to many nights of reading and lively discussions. The posters, hung with a nonchalance that bordered on art, danced on the hard plastic walls of the trailer, each telling a story, each a window to a different world.

The laughter you shared, free and genuine, rose and filled every corner, weaving a melody exclusive to your duo. The night breeze, complicit in your union, slid through the half-open window, shaking the faded and torn curtains that hung like banners of a forgotten kingdom. The air carried with it the characteristic aroma of the Forest Hills Trailer Park, a mix of freshness and adventure, which caressed your bare skin, causing a shiver that was both anticipation and delight.

But then, reality knocked on the door in the form of insistent knocks. It was Tom, his voice filtering through the plastic like a discordant melody, his tone a mix of confusion and amusement. His question, thrown into the wind with the nonchalance of someone who has enjoyed the most earthly pleasures, broke the spell of the moment. "Hey, lovebirds! What are you doing in there that your hair can't be seen?" He exclaimed, his laugh a laugh that mixed with the smoke and foam of the shared beers. It was a reminder that, although the outside world continued to spin, in that room, in that moment, only the two of you existed.

You stood up suddenly, as if propelled by an invisible spring, in the middle of the darkness that hung over the room like a thick blanket. Your heart pounded in your chest with the force of a war drum, each beat an echo in the vast cavern of your anxiety. The room, previously a sanctuary of laughter and whispers, now seemed like a mausoleum of silence and shadows, only interrupted by the gasping of two souls that had danced on the edge of the abyss.

Your eyes, two desperate beacons in the night, opened wide, capturing the pale moonlight filtering through the window. The reality of your nakedness, and that of Eddie at your side, hit you with the rawness of an inescapable truth. You remembered, with a clarity that hurt, each step that had led you to intertwine your destinies in the most intimate way. Fear, that old acquaintance, slithered across your skin, a cold snake that threatened to strangle your thoughts. The senses, now sharp as knives, tensed as they captured every whisper, every creak that the old house decided to give away. Fear had transformed into panic, a savage beast that threatened to devour what little composure you had left. You could feel, almost see, your friends' questioning gaze through the closed door, their imaginary eyes piercing the plastic like x-rays.

In an act of desperation, your eyes searched frantically for something to cover your nakedness, but the room offered only the promise of deeper exposure. The feeling of vulnerability was overwhelming, a giant crushing you to the ground with its mountain-like weight. The certainty that something shameful was about to happen paralyzed you, a pillar of salt condemned to look back.

You and Eddie looked at each other, and in his eyes you found the reflection of your own fear, a mirror where anxiety danced with shame. The footsteps outside the room echoed with the certainty of an approaching doom, and in that moment, you understood what it meant to be truly trapped, like on Elm Street, in a true nightmare.

Adrenaline coursed through your veins as you propelled yourself upwards, attempting to defy gravity and the circumstances that had brought you to that unforgiving ground. But your legs, betrayed by exhaustion and accumulated tension, did not respond as you expected. Instead of standing tall in triumph, you collapsed, your knees hitting the worn and stained carpet that told stories of countless encounters and disagreements. The sharp pain that shot through your knees was a cruel reminder of your humanity, an echo of the vulnerability you had tried to ignore. Your legs trembled, shaken by spasms that robbed you of any illusion of control. Still, in an act of desperation, you extended your arm, looking for the garment that would restore a minimum of decorum, but you only found emptiness. You couldn't find your favorite panties...

With your heart pounding in your chest, you resigned yourself to the urgency of the moment and focused on putting on your bra, feeling the cold sensation of the bonding metal against your bare back. Every click of the closure reminded you of the stark reality of the situation you found yourself in.

Embarrassment mixed with urgency as you wrapped yourself in the bra, feeling the stretchy fabric hug your torso tightly, offering you a modicum of protection amidst the chaos around you. The absence of undergarments increased your vulnerability, but you had no time to hesitate.

In the midst of the mess, your gaze drifted to Eddie, who was awkwardly struggling to put on his pants. His movements were clumsy and uncoordinated, an expression of determination etched on his face despite the hair tie he held between his lips. With each tug of fabric, his face reflected a mix of urgency and desperation, as he struggled to regain a bit of dignity in the chaos of the situation. The mess you were in was palpable, but you were both determined to deal with it in the best way possible.

Tom's thuds and drunken screams intensified, reverberating against the bare walls of the room, each impact an echo of the tension building in the fog-thick air. The atmosphere was saturated with chaos, each discordant sound a note in the symphony of nocturnal anarchy. In the eye of this sonic storm, the voice of one of your friends emerged, a thread of sanity in Tom's madness. His tone was a mix of concern and drunken sarcasm, imploring him to moderate the force of his against the door, that the noise might wake the neighbors and bring consequences unwanted. His words, although tinged with alcohol, managed to cut through the chaos, granting a brief respite, a moment of calm before the storm continued. Tom, distracted by the presence of your friends, walked away from the door, his unsteady footsteps guiding him back to the dining room. There, his voice rose again, a drunken shout trying to be charming, seeking the attention of anyone willing to listen.

Meanwhile, in the stillness of the room, you stood up from the cold, hard floor. Your knees, marked by the pressure of your fall, showed a redness that spoke of the subtle but persistent pain. With movements that belied your newfound vulnerability, you grabbed your skirt and t- shirt, dressing with a haste born of necessity. Eddie, next to you, imitated your movements. He gave a dry clearing of his throat, an attempt to impose some order on the chaotic scene. Unlike you, he avoided your gaze, his attention focused on piecing together his appearance, making sure every detail was in its place. Without looking at you, his voice cut through the silence, "Everything's cool, right? Can we go out now?" You nodded, although you knew he wasn't expecting your approval. With a discreet gesture, he opened the door just enough to enter. His exit was marked by a forced smile, a façade of normality that sought to erase any hint of what had happened.

When you returned to the living room, not so welcoming, everyone's eyes focused on you. Luckily, the known animosity between the two served as a distraction from any suspicion. Tom, impatient, asked in a voice clouded by smoke and alcohol, "What took you so long?" Next to him, one of your friends was trapped in a casual hug, the smell of marijuana and alcohol permeating the air. Eddie, with the skill of a veteran in these affairs, made up an excuse on the fly, something about an item lost in a bet. The explanation, although weak, was accepted without further ado. The others, absorbed in their world of laughter and drinking, dismissed the importance of the matter and plunged back into their feast of joy and excess.

The night unfolded like a dark blanket, dotted with stars that blinked indifferently at the tension that was brewing between you and Eddie. The gazes that had previously danced together in perfect harmony were now diverted, colliding with familiar faces in the crowd. Discomfort clung to you, a second skin made of silences and unspoken words, a transparent shield that isolated you from the human warmth that surrounded you. The bustle of the small gathering became a distant hum, as each one was immersed in a sea of silent reflections and imprisoned feelings. The tension that had floated between you, a dance of veiled contempt and hidden desire, had brewed over the years, growing silently until it became an invisible giant that now separated you.

There you were, at the epicenter of an oppressive silence, as Eddie's laughter and exclamations filled the space, a sharp contrast to your internal stillness. His happiness, so pure and overflowing, was a rare sight, a light you hadn't witnessed in a long time, and the brilliance of it left you with an empty feeling, as if a part of you had faded into the darkness. "I have to go now, guys. I had a great time today, see you on Monday..." you announced, with a voice that seemed to come from afar, from someone that wasn't you. You didn't dare to look back, to face the surprise or the perplexity that could appear on their faces. You felt the weight of her gaze fixed on your back, trying to pierce the armor of your most secret thoughts.

As you left the trailer, the cool night air hit your face, a cold blow that sought to shake you out of the emotional lethargy in which you had immersed yourself. Your steps began to lead you away, each one resounding like an echo in the solitude of the night, marking the rhythm of your retreat from a world of silent confessions and secrets that would never see the light.

It was then that Lucas appeared, his presence so sudden that he almost seemed like a ghost emerging from the shadows. "I'll accompany you," he said in a voice that brooked no reply. His company was unexpected, almost uncomfortable, but there was something comforting about his presence. He was nothing more than an acquaintance, a friend of your sister, a member of the Order of the Sith, but at that moment, his presence was all you needed.

The night had become a blanket of uncertainty and unanswered questions. Lucas, with his unbalanced gait, seemed the only constant in a world that was reeling. You didn't understand why he had decided to accompany you and not Mike, who also shared the proximity of his steps to his house. The age difference between you and Lucas was an abyss of experiences and experiences, three years that at that moment seemed like an eternity.

The silence stretched between you like a suspension bridge, fragile and tense, until Lucas broke it with a simple, "Hey...". His voice was a whisper in the night, but enough to capture your full attention. Looking at him, worry washed over you; his dark skin glistened with night sweat, and his normally lively and alert eyes were half-lidded and tinted a deep red.

"Yes? Are you okay, Sinclair?" you asked, stopping in your tracks. The possibility that he had smoked marijuana assaulted you, and with it, a protective instinct you didn't know you had. Lucas looked at you, and in that moment, the vulnerability he showed was palpable.

"No, it's just... I think you're very pretty..." Sinclair's confession came with shaky honesty, his voice a fragile thread on the night breeze. He was visibly affected, dizziness painted his world with tones of uncertainty, and his body trembled slightly, although adorned with a naive smile that failed to hide his state. You ignored his words, it was not the time for flattery or the vulnerability they exuded. You approached him, noticing how he towered over you in height, a difference that now seemed trivial. “Have you smoked anything, Lucas,” you asked, worry coloring every syllable of your question.

Lucas tried to respond, but his rapid blinks and difficulty swallowing revealed more than his words. He looked around, perhaps looking for a way out of his confusion, when he suddenly lost his balance and fell to the ground. "Shit!" You exclaimed, as you crouched down next to him. You lifted him enough for him to sit, holding him steady. His eyes closed, surrendering to the sleep that called him, a dangerous mixture of alcohol and drugs had brought him to that sorry state. You looked around, searching for a solution, a refuge in the night for Sinclair. That's when you saw the 24-hour restaurant, an oasis of light and calm in the darkness. It was completely empty, as if it was waiting for you. Without hesitation, you decided it was the safe place to take Sinclair and help him recover. Carefully, you guided him towards the establishment, each step a silent promise that you wouldn't leave him alone in his time of need.

With every ounce of strength you had left, you crouched down and wrapped your arms under Sinclair's shoulders, feeling the dead weight of his body. "Come on, Sinclair, don't do this to me," you mumbled, your breathing labored by the effort. The dirt clung to your hands, and you could feel the wetness of the grass through your bare legs. "Sinclair, for the love of God, move something!" you exclaimed, as a vein on your forehead threatened to burst. Finally, with a groan that sounded more like a growl, Sinclair gained some consciousness, his eyes slowly blinking back to reality. With a superhuman effort, he managed to stand up, leaning heavily on you. They began to walk, each step a battle against gravity. “You weigh more than my sins,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood as his body tilted dangerously to one side, forcing you to compensate for the weight.

The cafeteria is filled with the hum of an old refrigerator as the only soundtrack of the night. The flickering lights from the neon sign outside filter through the blinds, casting dancing shadows over Lucas's exhausted form. His head, heavy as lead, oscillates on the edge of the abyss of sleep, leaning more and more towards the table that supports his weight.

The clock strikes 3 am, and time seems to have stopped in this forgotten corner of town. You, with a gesture of concern that you cannot hide, decide to intervene. The waitress, a middle-aged woman with eyes that have seen too many early mornings, walks silently over and places a steaming plate in front of Sinclair. It's an onion soup, with its comforting aroma and melted cheese that stretches with every spoonful, promising warmth and sustenance. Next to him, a large, cold glass water bottle lands with a thud on the table.

Lucas, shaken by the sound, raises his head with a start, his eyes blinking, trying to focus on the reality around him. "You have to eat and drink the whole bottle," he insists, with his arms crossed and a firmness in his voice that brooks no reply. It is not your responsibility to take care of him, but your conscience does not allow you to leave him to his fate.

As Sinclair obeys, he begins to regain the color in his cheeks and the lucidity in his eyes. The soup works its magic on him, and little by little, life returns to his eyes. Outside, the town is still asleep, oblivious to the small miracle that occurs inside. And you, despite your initial revulsion, can't help but feel a pang of satisfaction at seeing that, at least for tonight, you've made a difference in someone's life.

Lucas, with his mind still cloudy, clung to the fork as if it were an anchor in the middle of the storm. His eyes, glassy and distant, were lost in the abyss of the half-empty plate, where there had previously been a pile of comfort food. The cafeteria, plunged into a dead silence, seemed to hold its breath, waiting for his next move. Was Sinclair who broke the spell, his voice tearing through the silence like paper thin. "Why did you leave there? It's because you don't like Eddie, right?" he asked, as the water swirled in his glass, reflecting his still trembling hands. Your face, a canvas of contradictory emotions, was contorted into a grimace of discomfort. Memories of what had happened just an hour or two ago assaulted you, forcing your lips into a tight smile, a clear indication of your discomfort. You were convinced that you had made a mistake, that something in your behavior had caused Eddie's averted gaze and silence. "I say this because... he doesn't dislike you, quite the contrary..." Lucas continued, dragging his words with the same slowness with which he cleaned his plate with a piece of bread. The bread, now soaked in the last vestiges of soup, disappeared in his mouth, as if with each bite it could erase the tension in the air.

Surprise appeared on your face when you heard Lucas' words. "What do you say? But Eddie hates me, or at least he did," you exclaimed with an incredulous laugh, as if the idea was so absurd that it could only be cause for a joke. Your eyes drifted for a moment to the waitress, whose curious gaze rested on the both of you. With her arms crossed and one eyebrow raised, she looked like a statue, a silent observer of the strange dance of your conversation. Sinclair shook his head, her gesture was firm, denying your words with a seriousness that contrasted with your joking tone. He leaned forward, closing the distance between you, as if every word she was about to say needed the confidentiality of a whisper. "Look, I'm going to tell you, but if you tell Eddie, I'll kill you before he kills me..." His voice was a thread of tension, his eyes sleepy, as if the weight of what he was Sharing would burden him deeply.

Your confusion was palpable, but you nodded, giving Lucas the signal that he had your attention. He cleared his throat, clear preparation for what was to come, and leaned even closer, as if he feared even the walls could hear. "Long before us and your sister got to high school, Eddie was already crazy about you, so it's nothing new," Sinclair whispered, with a seriousness that made you question if it was really a joke. Despite your doubts, you decided to give him your full attention. It was a hard statement to believe; your interactions had always been marked by fights and teasing, a constant push and pull that left no room for deeper feelings. But after the recent sex, you found yourself reconsidering every look and word exchanged with Eddie. What if he was trying to flirt instead of bother you? Sinclair spoke with a rapidity that reflected the urgency and nervousness of sharing secrets that should not be revealed. "Ever since we started sitting with their group at lunch, they made jokes about you, I mean, about how hot you are and all that," his words flowed like an overflowing river, full of confidences and murmurs that had been kept with him. suspicion. "Although without knowing that your sister was your sister," he continued, a wry smile playing on his lips as he remembered the collective surprise, "so, when we were offered to join The Hellfire Club and she said she belonged to The Sith Order, Eddie was perplexed." He readjusted himself on the couch, which seemed to hug him with the comfort of it, and looked you directly in the eyes. It was evident that every word he said was another piece of the puzzle he was trying to put together in front of you, a puzzle that, once completed, would change the way you viewed Eddie and possibly the entire dynamic of your social circle. Lucas looked at you with a knowing smile, his eyes. They shone with a gleam of amusement as you imagined your sister. "And since then your sister no longer sits with us, since Eddie considers her a rival of his," he said, his voice tinged with his humor. It was known that Sinclair had always been in love with her, and his tone suggested that he still harbored romantic hopes. "What I'm getting at," Lucas continued, pausing to take a long sip of water. "It's just that when Eddie wanted to see you, since, just as he said, you graduated before him because of his bad grades, he was talking to your sister so that the battles between the groups would start." His words flowed with the ease of someone sharing a long-kept secret, and you realized that your sister's constant bets were more than just games. "That's why your sister proposed so many bets," he added, with a gesture of understanding. Lucas lowered his voice to a confidential whisper, "And always, after we left the games, he would stare at you as he went, commenting on how beautiful you were, what good taste you had, and how intelligent you were." He paused dramatically, making sure you caught the importance of his next words. "Eddie is totally into you."

The revelation had left you speechless, a whirlwind of emotions washing over you as you tried to process what you had just heard. Eddie, the same Eddie that seemed like a constant in your daily life, was now intertwined with your feelings in a way you hadn't expected. A few years ago, every time you crossed the school cafeteria, your gaze unconsciously searched for his figure. Eddie, always alert, stood up as if he were waiting for you to pass, leaving a clear space for you to pass. You wondered if it was a coincidence or if, in some way, he also felt that invisible connection that united you. You remembered that time he called you a witch with a voice that was intended to be harsh, but his eyes betrayed the truth. It wasn't hate you saw in them, but a spark of fun, a lopsided smile that bordered on flirtatious. It was a game of looks and unspoken words that only the two of you seemed to understand, even though apparently, you didn't.

In the role-playing games you shared, Eddie transformed. He became the supreme narrator, his voice filling the room, creating worlds and adventures with astonishing ease. But when it was your turn, everything changed. His tone softened, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that seemed to want to decipher each of your thoughts. It was as if, in those moments, there was no one else in the room, just you and him.

Now, as you remembered those moments, you felt a shiver run down your spine, causing an involuntary blush to stain your cheeks. Sinclair's words echoed in your mind, giving you the courage to believe that, perhaps, what you felt for Eddie was reciprocated. It was a terrifying and exciting thought at the same time, a possibility that opened a new chapter in the story of your life.

Sunday slipped through scattered thoughts, like leaves blown by the autumn wind. The week became a countdown, each day marking one step closer to Friday, that day that promised practice with your group and, more importantly, Saturday, when you would have the chance to face Eddie once again.

The cabin, with its walls that whispered stories of ancient victories and defeats, welcomed you on Friday. The practice went without a hitch, each member of the group immersed in their role, building a parallel reality where anything was possible. But Saturday came with a bittersweet taste. The Hellfire Club was full, everyone except Eddie. His absence was like a vacuum that sucked the energy out of the room. You had taken care of your appearance, hoping to capture the magic of that previous night, but instead, you were met with words that fell like cold drops on your spirit. "Eddie said he didn't want to see you today," Dustin announced with a nonchalance that hurt you more than you expected. The screams of his friends echoed, a cacophony of reproaches rising like a storm. "What?" The surprise left you speechless for a moment, a pause that felt eternal. "What?! No! It's not what you think!" The boy you had helped was trying to repair the damage with hasty words. "Yes! Eddie literally said that!" Dustin insisted, causing gestures of frustration in the others, hands on their foreheads, mouths covered in an attempt to silence the truth. You didn't want to admit it, but the words affected you, a lot. After Sinclair's confession, you expected something more, something different. You then decided to put on the mask of indifference, pretending that Eddie's absence didn't matter to you, that his presence or lack of it were equally insignificant. You focused on the game, on the chips and dice, but your mind was elsewhere, lost in a maze of 'what ifs'. The game continued, but your heart was playing its own game, one where the rules were unclear and the only opponent was yourself.

Sunday dawned with a gray sky that seemed to reflect your mood. You got out of bed with the heaviness of someone carrying more than the weight of the sheets. College assignments were piled up on your desk, a mountain of words and numbers demanding your attention, but your mind was somewhere else, lost in the echo of a revelation that still echoed in your ears. With every page you turned, every problem you solved, Eddie's image was superimposed on the text, blurry and persistent. Night fell without you realizing it, and with it, the promise of a new day.

Monday came without classes, a small relief in your routine. Your mother, oblivious to the storm brewing inside you, asked you to pick up your sister from high school. You accepted, almost grateful for the distraction, for the chance to get outside and breathe fresh air. You arrived at the school and parked calmly. Soft music filled the space of the car, a melody that tried, unsuccessfully, to calm the waves of your heart. You got lost in your thoughts, looking towards the small forest that stretched like a green blanket beyond the institute, remembering the moments of hanging out with your friends to smoke while hiding from everyone. That's when you saw it. Eddie, accompanied by a girl, entering the forest. Alone. The scene hit you like a punch in the stomach, mixing alarm with sadness and, above all, with anger that burned through your veins. How could he be with another girl after what they had shared just less than two weeks ago?

The car clicked off, the keys still dangling from the ignition, forgotten. You got out of the vehicle, driven by an anger that blinded you. You left behind the responsibility of waiting for your sister, each step towards the woods fueled by the need to confront Eddie, to demand explanations, to understand why he hadn't shown up on Saturday, why he had left you with a heart full of questions and no response.

You walked with a determination that seemed to emanate from every pore of your skin, your fists clenched so tightly that your nails, long and sharp, dug into the palm of your hands, leaving small marks that would be silent witnesses of your contained fury. Your boots, faithful companions of so many days, hit the wet ground with a force that seemed to want to leave a mark not only on the earth but on destiny itself. The mud, stubborn, adhered to the edges of these, as if it wanted to stop you, but nothing could stop your progress. The girl, the one who had come out of the forest, passed by your side, her presence just a fleeting shadow in your visual periphery. For an instant, doubt made you recalculate, but it was just that, an instant. Your determination strengthened and you continued forward, towards the place that Eddie had made into his personal sanctuary. The bank in the middle of the forest was a silent witness of transactions and secrets. Worn by time and the stories he had endured, he proudly displayed his growing moss and cigarette burn scars on the picnic table. The trees surrounded it in an almost perfect circle, as if nature itself had decided to protect that space from intruders. And there was Eddie, oblivious to the world, with his only Walkman for company, moving his head to the rhythm of music that only he could hear. He counted dollars and cents with a precision that belied the apparent nonchalance of his posture.

You approached him, who had his back turned to you, oblivious to the storm of emotions that brought you there. With a decision that admitted no turning back, you turned him around forcefully, forcing him to face you, to look into your eyes. Surprise was drawn on his face, an unexpected and unmanly scream escaped his lips, while he took off his helmets with a speed born of bewilderment. "Shit, what are you doing—?" He began to say, but his question remained suspended in the air, interrupted by your hand that closed on his shirt, bringing him closer until the space between the two of them was almost erased. "Listen to me carefully, Munson, I think you have to explain a lot of things to me..." your voice was a thread of annoyance, but also of a determination that he didn't expect, feeling a tickle in his stomach. Eddie looked at you, and you saw something in his eyes that disconcerted you. It wasn't fear, or even surprise. It was a glow, a spark of something that seemed dangerously close to taste. Did he like that intensity, that fire you had inside? Or was it just another of his facades, another game in which he pretended not to be vulnerable?

"Explanations?" he replied, with a crooked smile that you didn't know if you wanted to erase or deepen. "What exactly do you want to know?" His tone was challenging, but there was a curiosity in his gaze that you couldn't ignore. "Besides, what are you doing here? Didn't you finish high school a year or two ago?"

The tension between you and Eddie was palpable, like a guitar string about to break. "What the fuck do you mean by what explanations?" you repeated, keeping your tone firm and defiant. Eddie's confident smile faded, replaced by an expression of surprise as he realized the seriousness of the situation. "We fucked, Eddie. We fucked, so I thought you liked me, but at meet-up time you don't show up and tell the guys you didn't want to see me? Are you stupid or something?" The words came out of you like bullets, each one loaded with the confusion and pain of feeling rejected, something that never happened, so it hurt your ego. You let go of Eddie's shirt, your hands finding his place on your hips, emphasizing your defiant stance. You were dressed to impress, or perhaps to confront. Your tight, ripped and slightly flared jeans were typical of the time, a cry of rebellion and style that adhered to your figure. The belt, an accessory that marked your waist, seemed to capture Eddie's attention, who was lost in contemplation of it, taken out of his thoughts by the intensity of your reproaches. Eddie blinked, coming to, and for a moment, he seemed to search for the right words. "It's not what you think," he began, his voice a little lower, a little more serious.

The tension in the air was almost tangible, like electricity before a storm. "Oh, right? So what is it, huh? Excuse yourself," you demanded, your words sharp as the red fingernails that were now pointed at him, a perfect contrast to your small maroon jean jacket. Eddie seemed lost, unable to find the right words. “It's just...that...” his voice trailed off, and with each syllable that trailed off, your frustration grew. Your brow was furrowed, a grimace of disgust was drawn on your face, and without thinking about it, you grabbed him by the cheeks. Your nails, now weapons of your anger, dug lightly into his cheeks, scratched by the shadow of a stubble. Eddie had never seen you like this, with such fierce passion, and that, somehow, seemed to light a different fire in him, a desire that grew with each gesture of your discontent. "Speak up, Eddie! You have no right to leave me like this, with doubts and no answers," you continued, your voice a crescendo of mixed emotions. "After everything that's happened, you avoid me and send messages through others? It's unfair and you know it!" Munson finally raised his gaze, meeting yours. There was something in his eyes, a flash of something that wasn't just surprise or fear of your reaction. It was deeper, a mix of regret and something you didn't dare name. "It's not what you think," he said finally, his voice firm but soft.

Eddie looked at you with eyes that seemed to seek refuge in yours, his voice trembling slightly as he confessed, "It's just that I'm a loser and you mean a lot to me..." The words hung in the air, loaded with raw sincerity. and vulnerable. "I didn't pay attention to you after fucking because I didn't want to be discovered at that moment, otherwise we would be the subject of ridicule." He paused, as if each word cost him a piece of his pride. "I didn't show up to the meeting because I knew I would get hard and it would be weird, which I didn't think you would see very well, so I excused myself to the boys with the excuse that I didn't want to see you." His confession was a labyrinth of emotions, a clumsy attempt to protect something that he himself didn't fully understand. And then, with a look that drifted toward the ground, he added, "And I haven't been able to contact you because my uncle has had problems with his diabetes and the only times I've left the house were to sell, you know, as you can see right now. I swear..." His gestures were limited, restricted by the pressure your fingers exerted on his cheeks.

Hearing him, guilt took over you, you let go of his face and looked at him, this time with an expression that mixed understanding with remorse. Eddie felt the cold on his skin where the warmth of your hand used to be. "No, no, you can leave your hand here, if you want... ..." he teased, attempting a smile that didn't reach his eyes, a forced laugh that desperately sought to relieve the tension of the moment.

Eddie stood up with a slowness that seemed to measure every second, his commanding height creating a shadow over you. You looked up, following the contour of his figure until your eyes met his, half-closed and shining with a mischievous light.

His smile, that familiar curve of his lips, enveloped you in a spell that you didn't want to escape. With a softness that contrasted the roughness of her skin, her hand found your neck, sliding to the back of your neck in a possessive gesture. "Let me clarify that that wasn't just one night, really..." The confession came out of him in a whisper, his voice a thread of vulnerability intertwined with the firmness of his words. For an instant, his gaze averted, as if the emotions he carried inside him sought to escape. But you weren't about to let him walk away from her, not now. Your hand acted of its own volition, drawing his attention back to you, demanding the connection you both knew existed. A knowing smile appeared on his face, a reflection of yours, while a part of him longed for you to repeat the gesture, to maintain that contact that seemed to be the only anchor in the whirlwind of feelings that surrounded you.

The atmosphere around them was a mixture of tension and electricity, as if the air itself was charged with the intensity of their emotions. The forest had become a private sanctuary, the tall and majestic trees formed a natural roof that filtered the sun's rays, creating a play of light and shadows on them. The ground was covered in fallen leaves, which crunched softly under their feet, a reminder of the fleeting nature of time.

The physical contact between them was its own language, a wordless conversation where each touch and each gesture had its own meaning. Eddie's hand on the back of your neck wasn't just a touch; It was an affirmation, a silent promise that what was between you transcended the everyday. His rough skin contrasted with the softness of yours, creating a sensation that made you want to get even closer.

Your hands, although they had been weapons of your anger moments before, now became explorers, tracing the contours of his face, feeling the texture of his skin, the firmness of his jaw. The pressure of your fingers was an echo of the pressure in your chest, a mixture of desire and need for understanding.

Eddie responded to your every touch, his body instinctively reacting to yours. There was a dance in their proximity, one step forward and one step back, as if they were on the edges of an emotional precipice, seeking the perfect balance between confession and reserve.

The boy remained waiting full of impatience, his eyes fixed on you, shining with the expectation of what was to come. It was as if he had cast a spell, and you, responding to that silent call, grabbed onto a strand of his long, dark hair, tugging at it with a playful but determined gesture. In one fluid motion, you pulled him towards you, and your lips met in a kiss that sealed all the unspoken words, a kiss that was a promise and a confession at the same time. Eddie's hand, which until then rested on your neck, began its slow but sure descent, tracing the contour of your collarbone before settling on the curve of your waist. His fingers, strong but careful, caressed the skin exposed by your shirt, exploring every inch with a tenderness that contrasted with the intensity of his gaze and exchange of saliva. It was a caress that spoke of possession, an intimate connection that united you beyond the physical, but right now it was what you were looking for.

The metallic melody of Eddie's headphones, now a persistent hum, becomes the backdrop for a moment that feels suspended in time. The wet whisper of your kisses transforms into a secret language, communicating unspoken desires that only you can understand. Eddie, with a determination that leaves you breathless, he spins you around with gravity-defying skill, leaving you with your back to the bench, where your butt rested on the surface littered with tobacco flakes, adding a rough texture to the scene. You were trapped between that cool surface and Eddie's firm crotch, which pulsed with desire, sending shivers down your spine, which was caressed by Eddie's hand. A shared sigh escaped your lips as you felt the reconnection of that pressure, fueling the erotic tension that intensified with each moment.

Eddie's tongue lasciviously explored from your mouth to your neck, tracing a trail of sensations that made you sway slightly, sliding back onto the picnic table, followed by your neck, giving him just enough room. While Eddie concentrated on his task, he firmly grabbed your sturdy thighs, lifting you up and placing you on the table, causing the money counted earlier to slide on the wet grass on the floor, a detail that added a note of chaos to the scene, increasing the intensity of the moment. Each bill and coin was lost in the undergrowth, as a metaphor for the debauchery and overflowing passion that consumed them.

"I want to fuck you right here. I want to take that stupid belt off you and choke you with it," Eddie said, his voice hoarse and heavy with desire, his words reverberating in the tension-laden air. You gasped as you broke the kiss for air, his hot breath brushing against your wet neck, leaving a new electric trail on your skin. His hands, eager and determined, slid down your lower back, searching for the belt that promised to release the pent-up desire.

Eddie ran his hands anxiously down your abdomen, urgently undoing your belt as your eyes were fixed on his desperate expression. Around you, the world seemed to fade away in a swirl of colors and sounds, leaving only room for the electricity that flowed between the two of you. With a quick tug, Eddie undid your belt, making you wobble slightly as he looked at you with a devilish grin, nimbly folding it. The rustling of the leaves in the wind intermingled with the accelerated beating of your hearts, creating an atmosphere full of tension. "What would happen to that eyeliner of yours if I smacked you in the face?" he asked sarcastically, each word ringing with defiant energy. "Would he cum from your tears, or would I be the only one who would?"

Your playful response brought a flicker of desire to Eddie's eyes, which burned brightly as he watched you. "Why don't you see for yourself?" you challenged with an innocent but mischievous look, causing the tension between you to reach a new level.

Eddie obeyed with a malicious smile, giving you a sudden spank on your cheek, causing you to emit a moan of pain mixed with a hint of pleasure. The sound echoed through the air, mixing with the rustle of leaves moving in the nearby breeze. A slight redness appeared at the site of impact, marking your skin with a warm, burning tone, while your breathing quickened, full of anticipation. Meanwhile, the palpable tension between them increased, making each brush of fabric against skin feel more intense. Eddie's cock, imprisoned in her boxers, pulsed with a exquisite sensitivity, as if she were eager to break free and join the game they were both playing.

Eddie, almost instinctively, pressed his erection, imprisoned by his rock jeans, against your groin, eager to free himself. There was a tangible electricity in the surrounding environment, as if nature itself was aware of the burning desire manifesting between you.

“You look like a bitch in heat,” you teased Eddie with a mischievous smile, as your delicate hands slid to his skull-adorned belt buckle, undoing it with deliberate slowness. Each click of the buckle resonated in the air, generating a slight tremor in Eddie, who awaited with anticipation what was about to happen. His erection rubbed against the fabric, causing involuntary movements that did not go unnoticed by you, unleashing a mischievous laugh that escaped your lips, full of complicity.

You released Eddie from his belt, letting him fall nonchalantly behind you as you focused on pulling his pants down enough to show his erection, remaining careful that he could quickly pull them up if someone showed up.

Seeing his covered but noticeable cock, you licked your lips in anticipation, reveling in the sight. Eddie's white boxers were soaked with precum, revealing the level of his arousal. Your gaze fell on his crotch, where his erection was begging to be touched and pleasured. Without further ado, you pulled down his boxers, leaving light marks on his thighs from the rubbing of your nails, which caused his arched cock to release completely, hitting his clothed abdomen with a light sound. The arousal in the air was palpable, and his cock throbbed eagerly, twitching slightly in anticipation of what was to come.

Determinedly, you wrap your hand around Eddie's firm erection, beginning to pump at a slow but steady pace. A content sigh escapes her parted lips as his body tenses at the contact, letting out a barely audible moan that is lost in the air charged with excitement. His trembling hand finds its way to your hair, gripping it firmly as his mouth curves into a mischievous smile. Every movement you make provokes a response in his body, a slight contraction of his muscles, a ragged inhalation that adds to the ambient noise.

The sound of skin rubbing against skin mixes with the rustle of the breeze rustling nearby leaves, creating a symphony of pleasure and anticipation. Your hand continues to move skillfully, gradually quickening the pace, as Eddie's breathing becomes more labored, his moans more audible.

Every time your thumb brushes the sensitive tip of his member, his body shudders involuntarily, and his moans intensify, filling the air with a heady mix of arousal and desire.

With provocative elegance, you slide from the table you were sitting at, moving gracefully until you are on your knees in front of Eddie. From that lower position, you look at him with a look full of desire and eagerness to please him, while a playful smile curves your lips. Leaning forward slightly, you open your mouth in a clear sign of your intentions, indicating your willingness to take his cock in your mouth. Anticipation shines in Eddie's eyes, his breathing becoming more labored as he watches you with a mix of desire and arousal.

Without warning, in a provocative act, you playfully open your mouth, inviting him to immerse himself in the pleasure you offer him. Eddie's hand, which was firmly gripping your hair, pushes you decisively, forcing his cock forcefully into your mouth. You feel the sudden onslaught of his member, causing a strong tremor in his body as he experiences the humidity, heat, softness and tightness of your mouth. The intoxicating sensation of having him inside you awakens a wave of pleasure that runs through every fiber of your being, noticing how those jeans that you considered favorites began to get wet due to the transfer of your panties.

A deep, desire-laden moan escapes Eddie's lips as he pronounces your name between broken breaths. His voice, full of passion and desire, resonates in the air, further fueling the fiery moment. “Ahh... fuck...” he moans your name, revealing the overwhelming effect you have on him. You give yourself fully to the act, letting desire and arousal consume you completely, as you dive deeper into the pleasure of giving Eddie exactly what he craves.

Eddie’s hands grip the sides of your face with palpable determination, like he’s eager to explore every inch of your mouth. He begins to move at a frenetic pace, fucking your mouth with an unbridled passion that leaves you breathless. Little by little, his member reaches the beginning of your throat, causing an intense sensation that makes you shudder. A gag escapes your throat, caused by Eddie's deep intrusion, but he doesn't stop, instead continuing to thrust hard, causing pleasure mixed with slight pain that makes your moans intermingle with his. The feeling of his tip lightly crushing your palate only intensifies the ecstasy shared between the two of you, causing louder, deeper moans from Eddie.

You could feel Eddie getting closer to climax, his ragged breathing and higher-pitched moans indicating he was on the brink of release. However, something else was seeping into your consciousness: close footsteps, a sound that didn't fit the intimate atmosphere you shared with Eddie. Worry began to bubble inside you as you continued to do your duty, but unease took over. The desire to find out who was interrupting this private but at the same time public moment grew with each closer step, but Eddie's firm grip on your face kept you trapped, preventing you from moving away. With concentrated effort, you fought against his hold until you finally managed to free yourself enough to separate yourself from his cock.

You pulled away from Eddie's cock with a sharp movement, feeling his cream slide between your fingers. Your eyes met those of the step holders, two figures who looked at you with a surprise that seemed carved into their faces. "Eddie?" the Sinclair's voice cracked, revealing his bewilderment, while your sister remained at his side, a motionless silhouette in the chaos of the moment. "Sinclair!" you exclaimed, your voice rising above the murmur of the forest as you realized he was holding a used and tied condom, a crucial link in the chain of events unfolding before you. The long-haired man's erection, now abandoned by his misfortune, collapsed, and a torrent of almost translucent white liquid spread across your face, hiding your shocked expression.

Eddie's deep moan that followed this echoed through the forest, marking the end of one act and the beginning of another. Eddie, Sinclair, and your sister looked at you, their expressions a mirror of absolute shock. None of the four of you knew how to react, trapped in a moment of mutual transgression, a game of secrets and silences that had been broken by Eddie's cum on your face.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Joe Burrow Masterlist

MAIN MASTERLIST

Fics

Roll for Initiative: Joe’s managed to keep the lock down about his limited knowledge on Dungeons & Dragons. He won’t say he learned about it because of you. It only takes one text message though for the truth to start to unravel. If slaying dragons and BBEGs isn’t the place to confess feelings, where is? Black!Reader Insert. AFAB!Reader (pronouns used are they/them). Friends to Lovers. Smut. Game based violence at times.

Heart of the Matter: Joe meets his rather elusive football icon, Trey Dominic, and worries he might barely be able to get a sentence out. But what waits for him is so much bigger than on singular first impression. Black Female OC (Marlowe). Death of a daughter/sibling described. Slow Burn. 18+ Content (Smut) [IN PROGRESS]

Blurbs

sub!joe tag: Not quite a blurb entirely of itself but a collection of thoughts about joe as a sub. Because I would love to make that man cry fat tears of pleasure and turn him out. 18+ content, BDSM/kink is described. Fem!Reader

SFW Alphabet: Headcanons for Joe and dating. All are suitable/safe for work. Gender Neutral Reader Described.

NSFW Alphabet: Headcanons for Joe and dating/smut. Not suitable/safe for work. Fem!Reader Described. BDSM aspects briefly described. 18+ Content

Busted Knee Caps: Fic Outline/Brain Dump for a Mafia inspired AU/fic. Joe and Nina meet by accident, by fates that neither one of them could predict. What happens when the dark underbelly of Nina's past catches up to her? Please note this is not a full fledge fic, but is written in a way to give a fully fleshed out outline and world building. 18+ Content. Graphic Violence is described.

[petitelepus]

For the DnD prompt

Tengen comes across a sexy Tiefling woman. She tries to seduce him but he doesn't fall for it. He does find her attractive though

You hummed as you sipped your sweet mead, enjoying the warm atmosphere in the tavern slash inn. The bard in there was rather skilled as they played their choice of instrument near the fireplace, having gained quite an audience, you included.

However, instead of seeking their company, you enjoyed yours, as you had returned from quite a quest and were looking for a nice rest and-!

You heard the door of the tavern open and close. At first, you paid it no mind, but then your eyes landed on a man who entered, hair white as snow, and-!

Damn, he is handsome. You have traveled for quite some time already but never had you ever seen a man this handsome. You couldn't wait to devour him.

Your friends and family would say that you are quite a player when it comes to men and women. When you saw something you liked, you would go for it.

You had at some point in time compared flirting and what followed close to fishing. You set the bait, lure the target in, and feast on that catch of the day. Sometimes multiple different men or women during the day.

You very rarely slept with the same guy or gal twice, getting your fill with one time, but once in a blue moon came a person that rocked your world and you had to gorge yourself.

This man looked like one. Handsome, and muscular, you couldn't wait to seduce him and see just how capable he was in the bedroom.

You chuckled as you finished your mead and headed toward the bar counter where the man had seated himself.

"Hello there," You smiled as you sat next to the handsome traveler, "Can I offer you a drink?"

"I wouldn't mind a drink," The man smiled and you tried your hardest not to look too eager. He had quite a smile.

"Al, give the man your best mead and another one for me!" You called and Al the bartender nodded as he quickly grabbed pints and filled them to the brim before serving them to you guys.

"Thank you, miss…?" The man looked at you and you smiled as you introduced yourself.

"What about you? What's your name, stranger?" You grinned and he smirked as he took a sip of his mead, "Tengen. Tengen Uzui."

"Nice to meet you Tengen," You rested your elbow on the counter as you leaned against your hand, making sure to show him some of your famous cleavage, "What brings you here?"

"Oh, I'm just passing by on my way to my guild."

A handsome man who was there only for a drink, a night at best, and gone the next day? This was too perfect to be real.

"I see! Well, if you want, I can show you some famous local valleys and hills?" You grinned like a cat with a bird in its paws, "I'm local."

"I'm flattered, I really am," Tengen smiled, "But I'm a married man."

"Happily?" You inquired and he smirked, "Very."

"Well, damn," You pouted as you corrected your posture to a more formal one. You were many things, but you were not a homewrecker, "Sorry about that."

"No harm no foul," Tengen raised his pint at you and you smiled as you grabbed yours, and the two of you clanked your pints together.

Well, if you couldn't have him in bed, might as well have some nice company from him. The night went on with the two of you talking about your adventures and laughing at some crazy tales he told you about this young boy called Tanjiro and his sister and friends.

By the time of your 4th or 5th pint, you were getting tipsy, but Tengen stayed unaffected by the alcohol. Impressive.

"Well, it's getting dark and I want to get back home before nightfall." Tengen nodded as he reached for his coin pouch, but you raised your hand and shook your head, "I'm offering!"

"Are you certain?"

"You may not have rocked my world, but you amused me plenty enough!" You laughed as you pulled your own coin pouch from your pocket and paid Al all the mead that the two of you had drank.

"That's very generous," Tengen grinned, "Thank you!"

"No worries," You chuckled, "Tell me one thing before you leave?"

"What is that?"

"If the circumstances had been different…" You smiled, "Would I have had any chances with you?"

"In a heartbeat." He winked at you and you chuckled as you watched him go, enjoying the sight of that tight ass of his. You were almost certain he was putting some extra sway in his walk. How generous of him.

You chuckled as you turned to look at the earlier bard, still playing music and singing. Tengen left you hanging, and you were feeling hungry, so the bard would do for this night.

It wasn't like you were going to see the poor bard ever again, but you did hope that faith would lead you back to Tengen and if not for sex then for an amazing adventure.

As you charmed the poor unnaware bard, Tengen chuckled as he headed towards home.

"Damn, she was hot!"

[capybaramurdock]

✦ BURNING IN THE SHAPE OF YOU MASTERLIST ✦

pairing: matt murdock x afab reader setting: dungeons & dragons fantasy au rating: mature warnings: canon-typical violence, religious themes, grief, betrayal, blood mention, divine silence, corrupted justice, moral conflict, slow descent into darkness

A/N: This fic is intended to be Reader Insert. "Silver" is a name given to the reader character by her order, not a given name. The only descriptors used are she/her pronouns and that she has pale, silverish, moonlight hair—a common trait among followers of Selûne in this setting. Please feel free to self-insert as much or as little as you'd like. 🕊️

༺ ⚖️ ༻

Summary: Once, Matt Murdock served justice. As a paladin of Tyr, he lived by the law—until it failed the innocent one time too many. In the silence of unanswered prayers, he fell… and something darker answered. Now bound to a hellforged blade and branded by the archdevil Zariel, he carves a path through corruption with fire and fury—no longer a servant of order, but a weapon of judgment.

Silver, a moon elf paladin of Selûne, is sent to stop him. Her order, the Waning Light, guides the lost home—not to punish, but to redeem. And in Matt, she sees the flicker of a light not yet extinguished.

When she binds him in chains of moonlight, their journey should end. Instead—it begins.

💀 Act I: The Fall (Chapters 1–3)

Chapter 1 – The Fall: ⚖️

Chapter 2 – Ashen Oath: 🗡️

Chapter 3 – Chains of Moonlight ⛓️

✯ Act II: Holy Custody (Chapters 4–6)

Chapter 4 – Mercy in Silence 🛐

Chapter 5 – Embers & Echoes 😠

Chapter 6 – The Breaking Point 💔

🌘 Act III: The Unraveling (Chapters 7–9)

Chapter 7 – Dreams of Fire 💭

Chapter 8 – When Light Falters ⚔️

Chapter 9 – Where Shadows Wait 🌒

🌕 Act IV: The Trial (Chapters 10–12)

Chapter 10 – Kindling the Dawn 🌸

Chapter 11 – A New Oath 🌞

Chapter 12 – Burn Bright for Me 💞

✩ Act V: The Dawn (Chapters 13–15)

Chapter 13 – As One Flame 🔥

Chapter 14 – The Light That Remains 🌅

Chapter 15 – In the Shape of You 💗

💕Matt and Silver’s Character Sheets💕