#and their silly little ritual sacrifices

[min-play]

been playing this adorable game 

[rainerghost]

So some of my friends (who are fans of tadc) fucking kin assigned me to some character that's just a bunch of shapes or something (I think the characters name was like Zooby or something I don't fucking know). This is my breaking point. I'm finally fucking watching it.

[uglypastels]

Following the Herd // dark!cult!Eddie x reader

summary: Eddie Munson has never been anything but sweet and caring to you. He had always made sure you were alright and safe and always helped you with anything you asked for. So now, that he needed you, how could you possibly refuse?

PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING TO READ THIS FIC AND IF YOU DO NOT LIKE THE SOUND OF THEM, DO NOT READ IT. if you do and still have any complaints about the content that has been tagged, that's on you. <3

word count: 14k

warnings the occult and cult stuff. blood. ritual sacrifices. inflicting non-lasting injury on self/others. subliminal indoctrination. Manipulation and taking advantage of the naive and innocent reader. Eddie is protective, possessive and controlling. has issues. mention of character death [the Creels]. mention of drinking, smoking and drugs.

Explicit Content! 18+ only. Minors DNI! fem reader. PIV sex. unprotected sex (big no-no). heavy s/d dynamic. thigh riding. extended orgasm denial. overstimulation. innocence and corruption kink + virginity. knife kink (kinda). spitting. oral [f receiving]. debatable dacryphilia. blindfold. Eddie's handcuffs. praise. "whore" x1.

If I missed out on any warnings, I severely apologise. Please let me know and I will add them

"Just as every cop is a criminal

And all the sinners saints

As heads is tails

Just call me Lucifer

'Cause I'm in need of some restraint"

-the Rolling Stones, Sympathy for the Devil

The thing one must understand about Eddie Munson is that he never meant for anything bad to happen. On the contrary, he had nothing but good intentions for you, for anyone. He was a kind, deeply caring person who wanted nothing but the best for others. It was not his fault that people didn't understand him. 

So what? He didn't dress like all the other conservative assholes in town. He was different and dared to speak up for himself; since when is that a crime? He had his beliefs to fight for, just like anyone else; why would that make him the bad guy? People have started wars over way less, and yet, Eddie had been the one cast out from society, branded as a monster. He, who had never done anything wrong in his life. 

You knew like no other how wrong these misconceptions about him were, having experienced his kindness first-hand. It was only a year ago, but it could have been a lifetime. It was almost a coincidence how he found you at that party over spring break. There were so many people, and the music was so loud, that it was easy to get disorientated. The air was thick with smoke and the smell of liquor, making you sick. He had helped you then. It was Eddie who took your hand and led you outside into the fresh and cold night air. 

'You alright?' He looked deep into your eyes with a soft smile, to which you could only smile sheepishly. Maybe that is how he had thought of his cute nickname for you? 'What's a cute little lamb like you doing out here, all alone, anyway?' 

'I'm here with my friends. Just… seemed to have misplaced them somewhere.' You had laughed, not wanting to show how scary that had actually been. The music from inside the house was still blasting, beating against your chest. Eddie nodded in understanding. 

'You've got to be careful, sweetheart, don't want to lose yourself to this chaos.' He brushed some hair out of your face; your skin was burning up from how warm it had been in the house. You only noticed it when compared to the cold touch of his hand. His eyes were still on you, focused, the deep dark of his irises pulling you in. 'Haven't been drinking, have we?' He smiled innocently, clearly teasing, intensifying the burning heat in your cheeks. 

'No.' You could say it earnestly, but the reasons behind your honesty felt a bit embarrassing. You almost didn't want to admit that you had never had a drink before and were still apprehensive about alcohol. He would surely think it's silly, to be 18 and never even have had a beer or a shot. There were so many things you still hadn't done, in fact, that he would probably see as normal.

But his smile grew bigger, and he almost sounded proud when he continued with the conversation: 'Good. Good. You don't want that stuff in you.' 

'I don't?' You blinked as he shook his head. Anyone else would have told you to suck it up, but not him.

'No, all it will do is ruin that pretty mind of yours. And we don't want that, do we?' His voice made your heart flutter in excitement, which proved everyone else's suspicions wrong. Because no evil could make you feel that good, could it? 

And it never really stopped. Neither the feeling you felt when you were around him nor how he treated you. Eddie had a very protective and caring nature. He needed to be sure you were safe and alright. At school, he would ensure you ate your lunch, had a good night's sleep the night before, and weren't too cold or too warm. He invited you to hang out a lot– an offer you could hardly refuse. He walked you home and would help you with your homework or take you back to his trailer, where he would play you songs on his guitar. The music he listened to sure was different from what you were used to. Heavy, gritty and dark, but all of that talk that it was Satan's music was ridiculous. Anyone who would listen to a few bars of it could know that. And the artistry of these musicians was also undeniable. 

Eddie had never expected you to enjoy his kind of music as much as you did, but it brought the biggest smile to his face, which, in turn, made you that much happier. You couldn't get enough of his happiness and could do anything for it. It would be the fair thing to do, considering everything Eddie's done for you... 

When your parents found out you had started hanging out with a boy like Eddie Munson, they were, quite honestly, scared. They did not want his likes to influence you, making you stray down to a dark and dangerous lifestyle. 

But it couldn't be further away from the truth. 

Eddie ensured you stayed away from things such as alcohol or drugs, even cigarettes. He didn't even want you talking about it, didn't want you anywhere near the stuff. And even though he used all of it, he made sure to never do it around you. He would hide away the weed and the liquor bottles in his trailer, and he'd control his need to smoke until you had left. 

'It's too late for me, I'm beyond saving, but that doesn't mean you have to go down that path too.' He would say, stroking your hair, if you ever asked why he was so adamant about keeping you away from these vices. 'Can't have my little lamb be ruined like that.' And he would kiss your forehead, ring-clad hand upon your cheek. His rips were usually chapped, and fingers roughly calloused, but you didn't mind. His touch still felt divine. 

Eddie protected you from more than just these substances. He knew you were not the most experienced in living life, which was something he appreciated and praised, but the shock on his face when you had told him you had never even had your first kiss… the idea of that made his head spin. It excited him more than he had ever thought imaginable, but it also scared him. Since he had found that out about you, you had noticed how much more protective he had gotten over you around certain people. It was cute, how possessive he got when other guys looked at you. 

'Believe me, baby, they're no good for you.' He would hold you close, turning your back to whoever had been trying to catch your eye. 'Guys like that… they only have one thing on their mind.' 

'What's that?' you asked, but he never gave you a direct answer. It was nothing his little lamb should be worried about. You were his pure, innocent girl, and he couldn't have the evils of others corrupt you. He wanted what's best for you. 

He really did make you feel safe and comfortable, in a way no one had ever done before. You felt like you could tell him anything, no matter how personal or embarrassing. Things you wouldn't dare tell any other guy. 

'Uhm, Eddie,' you mumbled one time. You were in your bedroom, sitting on the ground with your backs against your bed. Eddie had you sitting between his legs. His hands around your middle, rubbing small circles on the bare piece of skin between where your shirt and trousers met. The sensation it left on you spread across your whole body in sparks, particularly between your legs, making it very hard to focus on the book you had been trying to read.

'Something wrong?' He asked, head propped up on your shoulder as he spoke, so his words came out with his warm breath against your neck, not helping your situation. 

'I uh–' you were flustered; the only thing you could think about was how his fingers were creeping over your stomach, inching your waistband. 'Nevermind.' 

'No, no, sweetheart. Now you got to tell me.' 

'It's a bit warm in here, don't you think?' You breathed out slowly. 

'Not really.' He shrugged. 'But you can open a window if you want.' 

You took the opportunity to get away from his touch. Not that you minded it or that it wasn't pleasant. On the contrary, you had to escape it because of how good it felt. You had never felt like this before. Hot and bothered, all over. It wasn't something you were used to or even knew how to handle. 

'Are you sure, you're alright?' Eddie asked once you came back to sit in his lap. You hummed out a response, but he could tell it wasn't all true. 'C'mon, it's me. You can tell me, can't you?' Of course, you could. You could tell Eddie anything, that much you knew. 

'I just– feel a bit hot. That's all.' It still all felt a bit silly. A bit difficult to put into words.

'Hot?' He asked for a clarification, to which you only nodded your head. You looked down at your lap, embarrassed even though you knew there was nothing to be ashamed about. Eddie wrapped his arms around you, but his hands were low, pressing at the hem of your trousers, and it wasn't making matters any better. 

'What are you doing?' You gasped when you felt him slip past the material of your shorts, fingers sliding over your panties slowly. You arched your back in anticipation; it was an automatic, subconscious reaction. Still, it felt wrong, though. He had always told you how that part of you was sacred, off limits for others. 

Others. Yes. 

Not him. 

'I just need to check something.' His voice was a mere hush as his fingertips brushed over your core, just the thin layer of cotton keeping up the barrier between you. But he wouldn't actually touch you there. Not yet. He couldn't ruin you like that. It would be inconsiderate and selfish, and that's not who Eddie was. He just wanted what's best for you.

'You are burning up, baby,' he clicked his tongue when his fingers added some pressure to the touch. Your back stiffened, and you held your breath, unsure what to do. 'I wish I could help, but I can't right now.' Of course, you would never actually protest anything he did, knowing he had his valid reasons, but you wished he hadn't pulled away. 

'Why not?' your voice was shaky. 

'It's not the right time,' he pressed you back against his chest, taking in your sweet scent. Your shampoo, your perfume, even the ink of the pen you had been writing with for the past few hours, and your arousal– all mixed into something that could only be described as you. 

'Right time?' you weren't sure what he meant by that, but Eddie talked a lot about funny things that you didn't understand. Mostly, it was about the game he played at school with his friends, Dungeons and Dragons. He had tried to explain it to you several times, and most of it was easy enough to grasp, but he could talk on about it for ages, and it was almost as if he was pulling you into a trance of attention. Words would lose their meaning as you were too focused on Eddie himself. The sound of his voice and his movements– he always used his hands to emphasise what he said. And maybe it was for the better you didn't understand everything that was happening in the club. 

Not that it mattered, anyway. It was nothing his little lamb should be worried about.

'Yeah, got to wait a bit, sweetheart. Patience is a virtue, isn't that what they always say? And believe me, if you wait a bit longer, it will be so worth it.' 

'How long?' you already didn't want to wait. His featherlight touch had been enough to ignite a fire in you. But, unfortunately, it wasn't enough to subside whatever feeling was gnawing at you there. If anything, the memory of his touch only made it worse. You needed more. 

'Not too long. I'll let you know when it's time, ok?' He started rubbing his hand over your arm. 'But you got to promise me one thing.' 

'Of course.' Anything for Eddie. He knew what was best. 

'Do not touch yourself there, ok? It might be difficult because you might not feel much better without it, but it will feel so wonderful in the end. I promise.' He made plenty of these kinds of promises and had held up to them every single time. That was another reason you trusted him; everyone else was simply wrong in their perceptions. An evil person would not keep to their promises as Eddie did. 

Eddie cared

Deeply

About you. 

So you listened to what he asked of you, nearly blindly. 

The feeling inside of you grew much to your frustration, but you kept your promise to Eddie. The days went on rather slowly, not helping your problem, and neither did Eddie. His touches seemed to linger more than they used to. He was always at your side, keeping you close to him; that didn't change that much. But he would let his hands wander over your body. 

Perhaps he was nervous about something, and the way he coped was to draw invisible shapes all over your body when he had his arms wrapped around you. He'd mumble to himself, little nonsense things you couldn't make out. He also got a bit forgetful; at lunchtime, he would forget to save you a seat, leading you to have to sit in his lap. Not that you minded. But what was a bit frustrating was how antsy he had gotten, letting his leg bouncing up and down. (What was he so nervous about?) Other times you wouldn't have minded, but how his jeans grazed over your sensitive and already frustrated core made you want to cry out. 

'Eddie, could you maybe stop that? Please?' You looked up at him, trying to get rid of the lump in your throat. 

'Sorry, baby,' He stopped, but the friction was just replaced by the hand he had put on your thigh. So many people were around you, all chatting and enjoying their free time out of class, yet there was only him for you. His big brown eyes sucked you into a place where it was just the two of you. So you weren't even embarrassed when he asked you: 'have are you feeling? Been a good little lamb for me?' 

'Yes.' As if on cue, you couldn't help but rub your legs together, needing some kind of stimulus to keep you away from that burning feeling between your legs. It had been going on for days, only getting stronger, and you could do nothing about it. 

Your action didn't escape Eddie's vision, and he was quick to pull your legs apart. However, his hand remained sturdily between them. 

'Haven't been touching yourself?' He wasn't whispering or trying not to be heard, but no one was paying attention really anyway. But even if they had, you didn't care. 

'No. Of course not.' He would ask you the same question each day, and each day you could happily respond. Even if every time it got harder and harder to do. 'But… Eddie–' 

'Hmm?' he hummed, pushing some hair out of your face with the hand that had not settled over the warm gap between your thighs.

'I feel like it's just getting worse,' your voice was almost lost in the ocean of others, but he heard you, and he smiled softly as you continued. 'I don't know how much longer–' but that is where he cut you off. 

'I know, baby. I know. But you're not ready yet, and we don't want all of this to go to waste, do we?' He looked you in the eyes until you shook your head in agreement; what you agreed to, however, was a bit vague. 'But it's not much longer anymore, and then just think of how good it will feel. Your reward will be grand.' 

'Reward?' He had never even said anything about a reward. 

'Oh, of course. My little lamb deserves a prize for behaving this well.' He squeezed you into a tight hug, pulling you in. You could feel his thumb press against your sensitive bud again for just a second, but you pushed aside the urge for more. He propped you up, helping you sit up better in his lap, but this again only made you feel his hand on you more prominently. His lips were nearly against your jaw when he spoke up again. 'How about you come over to my place later, and I'll try to help you with your problem, hmm? A… little taste of what's to come?' 

'Are you sure?' You didn't want him to do anything that could end up hurting either of you. If he said, you weren't ready… 

'Yeah, I can't have you walking around like this, all flustered. It's making all the other guys stare.' 

'What?' This made you stiffen up a bit. Why were they all staring at you? Could they tell, see even, how enkindled you were? You hadn't thought so. 

'Shh, it's alright. I'll take care of them. Don't you worry.' He would make sure you were safe, that much you knew. 'Meet me at the car later. I'll drive us home.' The bell for the next class would ring soon, and you wouldn't see Eddie until after school ended. Those were always the hardest times of the day, besides maybe when you were lying in bed alone, wishing he was with you to help you fall asleep and make that ache between your legs finally disappear. 

The classes were almost impossible for you to get through, as all you could think of was Eddie. Minutes were passing by so slowly, that you wanted to scream. Was no one else upset about how time just did not seem to move forward? That could not be possible. But, then again, you were the only one irking to get out of there to meet Eddie in the parking lot. 

You practically jump into his arms. The wind blew in your face, bringing his dark locks along and tickling your neck. He smelled like incense and his musky cologne. Someone like him should have something more bitter about him, you had thought at be beginning of your friendship, but Eddie was sweet. Not just in his actions, but in everything else around him. Because even with that smokey scent, mixed with his cologne, there was still a sweetness around him that you could not identify. It pulled you in, the familiarity of it, and yet you could never quite place it in your mind as to what it was. 

Eddie's hand never left your body as he drove you to the trailer park. You loved when he drove his car, but it was also frustrating that his hand was all he could give you. His eyes were, of course, entirely concentrated on the road ahead, and you missed them. 

Fortunately, the drive wasn't too long, and before you knew it, he led you out to his trailer, into the back of it, where his room was. It was messy, like most days, and there were things strewn about all over the place, which Eddie tried to sort out as he went along. He picked something up that looked like a long glass vase from next to his bed and put it in his closet. 

'What was that?' you asked curiously as he sat down on the bed. You were still standing by the door. 

'That? Oh, nothing, baby. Just c'mere.' He held out his hand for you to take once you had made your way over to him. You were ready to sit down, but Eddie pressed the palm of his other hand over your stomach, keeping you up. 'Hmm, no. Wait up.' He took both your hands in his, kissing your knuckles. 'Before we start, I need you to listen, really carefully, to me. I got to know you understand.' 

Eddie rarely spoke in such a serious manner, so it made you a bit nervous. He held your hands tightly, and you stood between his spread legs. He looked up at you, almost with pleading eyes, as if he didn't know that you were already listening to him intently, taking in each word he gave you desperately, never wanting him to stop giving you his attention or time.  

'I'm listening, Eddie, always,' you smiled, and he hugged out a little laugh. 

'This is just really important to me,' he chuckled lightly again, 'I want to make you feel good, sweetheart, but I can't make that feeling that is bothering you go away just yet. It shouldn't go away just yet, because you're not ready, we're not ready… but we can do something to help with it; for now, does that sound alright?' 

'Yes.' Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as he kissed your knuckles again. 

'Good, come sit here,' he tapped onto his right thigh, and you sat down, but apparently not in the way he had meant for you to do, as he laughed. 'No, baby. Like this. Here.' He shuffled a bit back onto the bed and made you sit with your legs on either side of his, locking him in between you. He put his hand on your hip, pushing you into him. The material of your jeans pressed into you, releasing some of the tension that had been building up in you over the past few days. Then, with his guidance, you started moving your hips over his leg. 

'Feels good, doesn't it?' Eddie asked, and you nodded your head quickly. 'Yeah, and it will only feel better the longer you keep doing it. Go a bit faster– that's it.' 

'It– oh my- aah,' you gasped out at this foreign sensation that rushed through your body. 'Thank you,' the words came out with a heavy breath of air as you found your rhythm.

'You're very welcome, sweetheart. You've been doing so well for me, haven't you? Deserve a little treat.' Your faces were nearly at the same level with you on his lap, and his mouth ghosted over yours. You could feel it there, not even an inch apart, but he couldn't– no matter how much he wanted to kiss your perfect lips, they would remain untouched for now. But it wouldn't be long anymore. Soon, he would make all this wait worthwhile. 

'Keep going as long as you want, baby,' the sight of you pleasuring yourself on his thigh made him short circuit, but he had to keep his mind clear. 

'It feels–' you didn't know how to describe the feeling that started to overcome you. You were tensing up again. Suddenly the release you felt from this friction didn't feel as satisfying anymore. It was urging you on to keep going, to tense that tight feeling in you until it snapped, but it was getting worse. Finally, you had to squeeze your eyes shut. 'Eddie!' 

'Woah, Woah, Woah.' He halted your hips tightly. 'Stop.' 

'What-' you were confused, not sure what had happened. The tight feeling in your gut loosened, but the satisfaction you had felt also reclined. 

'You were close, weren't you?' He asked, and you weren't entirely sure what he meant by "close", but somehow, on a deeper level, you knew that that is what you had felt, and so nodded a bit meekly. Eddie nodded along in understanding. 'See, you're not ready for that yet, baby. So if you feel it again, you got to tell me and stop, got it? If you feel that tightness coming, do not keep going. It can be too much for you right now, I don't want you to ger hurt.'

'I get it,' a lump formed in your throat again. 

'Alright. Do you want to do it again?' He squeezed your hips, and you bit your lip. You did want to keep going, as it did feel amazing when you could release some of that tension your body had built up. Eddie just wanted to help you; it wasn't his fault that he couldn't get rid of this hollow feeling inside you. He did everything he could to make you feel as good as possible. He let you writhe over his leg for an eternity, replaying the cycle of your pleasure, letting you inch toward that unattainable high. Every time you felt the knot in your stomach, you would gasp out his name, and he would hold you still. It was torture you brought upon yourself to keep going over and over again, but it felt so good. It didn't matter that you could never actually get it to completion. That initial feeling of bliss compensated for the pain of unfulfillment. 

'You're so good for me. My sweet little lamb, always listens so well.' Even if there was nothing to inherently pleasure Eddie, he still felt fantastic. Seeing you like this made him feel like never before, and to see you obey his requests as you did… it was pure euphoria. 

Tears were stinging your eyes, but he was quick to brush them away, right at the corners of your eyes. You could not possibly go on much longer. Your grip on his shoulder weakened, and your hips started jutting forward haphazardly, exhausted.

'Eddie,' you gasped out a final time; you didn't even have energy left in you to reach that edge anymore. Your body shut down as you fell forward into Eddie. He fell back, holding on to you as his back hit the mattress. 

'Did so good, baby. So good.' He held you tightly as you caught your breath. You were shaking, so he grabbed the covers and pulled them over you. 

'I– thank you.' You nuzzled deeper into his hold. No words were exchanged for a while. His arms stayed wrapped around you, caressing your back gently as the seconds on the clock ticked by. 

'How are you feeling?' He eventually asked, whispering, in case you had fallen asleep on top of him. But you answered, voice weak and tired: 

'I'm alright.' Everything was still spinning a bit; you couldn't quite tell up from down. The only thing grounding you was Eddie. He started to draw more random shapes over your back, mumbling nothings to himself, and you were ready to doze off. Peace was coming over you. Then his voice turned up a bit louder as he spoke directly to you.

'I'm so proud of you.' It was still a whisper, but his voice vibrated through his throat. 

'Thank you, Eddie.' 

'Mmm, did so good, you know what?' He kissed your forehead. 'How about we go to the mall tomorrow. Get you something nice?' 

Your head shot up in the excitement, and you looked into his eyes. 'Is– that my reward?' 

'No, I just want to spoil you,' he chuckled, petting your hair flat, 'Your reward will be so much better. Just you wait.' He rolled over to his side, taking you along so you'd fall onto the mattress beside him. 'Want me to take you home?' He asked, and you had nodded yes, and maybe had even said it, but your eyelids were so heavy, and you were so tired, that soon sleep came over you, and you had never felt quite as peaceful as you had in his arms. 

Eddie not once thought of letting you go. He did what he had to do to keep you close and safe. 

His pure and innocent little lamb. 

All his. 

✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮

The next day, he did indeed take you shopping. It was a lovely day full of sunshine, and he held your hand as you walked past stores. Even if you hadn't realised it, he already had something in mind he wanted to get you, and it just so happened to be at one store you frequented. 

He watched you go through the racks of clothing and smiled anytime he caught your eye. He had to pull you back. Otherwise, you would have missed the one thing he had wanted you to see. 

'How about this one?' He picked a dress up from the hanger. It was a long and flowy white summer dress. You furrowed your brows, not having expected that to be his choice of outfit for you. It was neither his nor your style, yet he handed it to you with plenty of enthusiasm. 

'Are you sure?' You asked, watching him nod his head adamantly. 

'You'll look gorgeous, I can already tell.' he pressed the dress against you, looking at how it would look on you. 'Wanna go and try it on?' 

'Yeah, of course,' you smiled, and the next thing you knew, Eddie was opening up the door to a dressing room for you. He hung the dress on a hook next to the mirror and closed the door behind him. He said he would be right there if you needed anything, and you knew it was true. He would be sitting right there in one of the fuzzy chairs, waiting for you to come out and spin around for him. 

But unfortunately, the zipper in the back of the dress was not as easy to pull up as you thought, so you called out his name. Not a second later, Eddie popped his head inside the little room, eyes closed for your decency. 

'It's alright, Eds,' you giggled, 'you can look. I just can't get the zipper up.' 

'Ah, well, let me,' he came up to you, and his hands were on the small of your back, holding the two sides of the dress together so he could pull the zipper up. It was cold against your skin, and Eddie moved extremely slowly, not wanting to accidentally snag the fabric or get your hair caught in it. He pulled it all the way up and smoothed out the dress at your sides, not that you thought it had been that wrinkled. You had been facing the mirror, so he put his head on your shoulder to look along with you. 

'Absolutely beautiful.' He whispered, imitating the confined intimacy of the dressing room. Your cheeks heated up at the compliment, but also because you did actually feel beautiful wearing the dress. It fitted perfectly, wrapping around your body at every angle. It was light, comfortable, soft… just the white colour felt slightly off for you. Eddie noticed this apprehension in your face. 'What's wrong, sweetheart?'

'I'm just not so sure about white. It doesn't really feel like me, does it?' 

'Thought you might want to try something new. And just look how good it looks on you.' Then, with a finger under your chin, he made you look in the mirror again, 'An angel.' 

'Oh, Eddie,' you swung around to hug him. 'Thank you.' you mumbled the words against his chest. 

'Anything for you, baby.' His hand moved up and down over your back. 

After the dress shopping, the two of you walked around, with no real goal or destination in mind. The presence of each other was more than enough. But as the day went on, you couldn't help but feel down. Eddie had done so much for you over time, especially in the recent days; you wanted to repay him somehow. Show him that you cared for him just as much as he cared about you. Did he even know that you would do anything for him? You hoped so. 

You kept on thanking him as the day went on, which only made him laugh. The message had been quite clear after the first three times, and now it was becoming almost excessive. But he could never complain either, loving how much you appreciated him, but enough was enough. Surely. 

'I just wish I could do something in return.' 

'You really don't need to.' He cupped your face in the palm of his hand. 

'But I want to.' You persisted. 'There must be something I could do for you.' 

'Not that I can think of, but if anything comes up, I will let you know.' And that was that. You didn't want to press on the matter; why nag on a little thing like that, ruin what would be a lovely day? So, you went and had coffee at a café on Main Street, where Eddie again demanded to pay the bill, and then he drove you back home. Only when the car stopped in front of your driveway did you realise that this had been the longest time you had ever spent with Eddie: Almost an entire day. And it had also been one of the best days ever. Not because of how he had spoiled you– you couldn't care less about that stuff– but because you had not once stopped smiling. With him, you felt like you were on cloud nine, seventh heaven, paradise, and you never wanted it to stop. 

'What are you doing tomorrow?' you asked hopefully. It would be a Sunday then, and like most Sundays, you would have nothing to do. Eddie tapped the steering wheel.

'I got some things to take care of. Nothing too exciting.' Perhaps he saw your deflated expression. 'We'll hang out another time, yeah? I'll see you at school.' If you had been two different people, you would have leaned in and kissed goodbye, but instead, Eddie cupped your face again and tapped your cheek lightly with his hand. You did lean into his touch, not wanting it to leave you, but it always did at some point. 

'I'll miss you.' You pouted, which he mimicked. 

'And I'll miss you too, but this thing– it's really important. I can't miss it, and it will most likely take me the whole day–' 

'Why don't I help you?' You interrupted as the idea jumped to your mind. 'Then we can still spend time together and maybe you might even finish sooner.' 

'Oh, you don't want to–' 

'But I do,' you persisted. This was your chance. You could finally prove to Eddie how much he meant to you. 

'Are you sure?' Eddie raised his brow inquisitively. You nodded your head once but very clearly, indicating your standpoint. He couldn't get rid of you even if he tried. He knew it too, as seen through the deep sigh he took, but he was smiling. Your persistence was adorable. 

'Ok, fine. Do you know where the Creel House is?' 

'The creepy old boarded-up building?' Yeah, you knew the Creel House. Everyone in town did. Everyone had heard the story of what had happened there all those years ago, and it still made you feel uncomfortable to think about it. 

'I'll see you there at 5, ok? Wear the pretty dress we got today, too. I can't get enough of you in it.' And this time, he did lean in to kiss your cheek. Or, almost your cheek. It had been where he had intended for his lips to touch you, but it had only missed your own lips by less than an inch. The kiss was also just like all the other formalities. It probably lasted less than a second but left you wanting more. That warm feeling in your body resurfaced, much to your dismay. After yesterday, you had hoped it would stay hidden a bit longer, but apparently, one tiny featherlight kiss on the apple of your cheek was enough for it to come back up. 

'Who knows,' Eddie took your hand, 'maybe tomorrow will be the day, too.' 

'You mean–' you looked up at him with wide eyes. 

'We'll see. Now go, sweetheart.' He left you thinking about it for the entire night. Were you finally ready? Would this unbearable ache in your pit finally disappear? You hoped so. You were jittery with excitement about the next day. You could barely sleep, even though you knew Eddie wouldn't appreciate that (he always needed you to be well rested). And then the morning came, and you couldn't get a bite of your breakfast down your throat as you jumped in your seat from anticipation. You knew it was silly, but after all this time, you finally got a chance to show Eddie everything. And you had waited for weeks to touch yourself, and it was as if your body could tell that the waiting time was almost over. 

It was almost over; you told yourself as you made your way to the house. You were too early; you knew that, but better too early than too late. Maybe Eddie would already be there, and then… that is when you realised you actually had no idea what you were coming into the house for. What did he want you to do there? 

A harsh wind blew, pulling at the hem of your dress, which you had to hold not to let the street see your backside. The steps to the porch creaked under your footsteps, and the door you knew was once covered in wooden boards was now broken open. The beautiful stained-glass window was broken into shards, with a large hole in the middle– exactly where the rose used to bloom daily. 

'Hello?' You called out as you stepped inside. The temperature immediately seemed to drop, and the air had a moist hint, thick with dust flying around you. Footsteps were coming from upstairs. 

'Baby?' It was Eddie, and the sound of his voice immediately made all your worries go away.

'Yes! It's me!' You wanted to tread the stairs, a large and eccentric staircase, but Eddie showed up at the top of it. His hair was fastened up with his black bandana. You had imagined he would appreciate your early arrival, but a grimace covered his face instead. 

'You're early. I told you 5.' The old clock in the back of the hallway still clicked away and pointed to ten minutes to five, so you weren't that early. 

'I'm sorry. I walked faster than I expected.' 

'It's alright, just– just wait here. I'm almost ready.' Oh, was he setting something up for you? A surprise? Your reward? It brought back all these fluttery feelings in your stomach. 

You could hear Eddie shuffling around the upper floor, right above you. He was walking up and down the room, carrying things around. You wanted to go up and help him, but since he had told you to wait– you waited. Five minutes went by, ten, fifteen, and you were getting restless at the bottom of these tall stairs. With each creak in the floorboards, you hoped Eddie would appear again. 

That only happened a bit later, when you glanced up and saw him walk out of a dark room. He grinned down at you, and your body screamed to run up those stairs, but again, you waited for him to let you. 

'C'mere, I want to show you something.' And that is how you eagerly made your way upstairs finally. Eddie waited at the top step and watched how your dress flowed with your movements. Truly angelic, if such things existed. Holding you by the hand, he led you into the room he had just come out of. 

All the large windows were plastered shut, covered with wooden planks or plastic tarps, and while that should have made the room pitch black, you could still see everything inside clearly. That is because Eddie had set up candles all over the surfaces near the large bed that stood in the middle of the room. The orange flames gave the room a warm glow, and it must have been the most romantic thing you had ever seen. 

'Is this for me?' you glanced over at him, still in awe and shock. He laughed at this lightheartedly, squeezing your hand. It must have taken him hours to prepare all of this, but it was so worth it, you could tell him. The atmosphere brought to the room was fantastical, otherworldly. 

Eddie led you to the centre of the room, where the candles on the ground were positioned in a circular shape, with just enough space for you to stand. 

'You look beautiful, y/n,' Eddie spoke in a hushed whisper. 'Divine. My little lamb.' He pushed the hair out of your face again. Why did it always get in the way? Such a gorgeous face should not be covered up with anything, which is why he was glad you hadn't put on make-up today. You were standing in front of him in your purest form. The white dress accentuated it. 'You know why you're here, don't you?' 

'Because you asked me to?' you spoke, voice shaking for some reason. The fire of the candles flickered on. In the dim light, you could make out some kind of graffiti painted on the walls, strange symbols you did not recognise. 

'Yes, but I meant, why I asked you to come here.' The entire house had been left in its original state, never emptied out after the original owners had… left it. This meant that the old bedroom still had all its furnishings around. The bed was behind you, but you could also see a dresser and an armchair in the corner. Eddie walked up to the dresser and picked something up. Long, thin, the silver reflecting the golden flame light– 

'Eddie?' You wanted to step back at the sight of the sharp knife but remembered the candles positioned all around you. 'What- what are you doing?' 

'It's ok, baby. I'm not going to hurt you,' Eddie smiled kindly. He toyed with the sharp tip of the blade, twirling it against his hand. 'I would never hurt you. You know that, right?' You did know this, so you didn't bother to back away when he came closer. Eyes remained locked, ignoring the fire, the symbols, and the blade. There was just you and him. 'You know that, right?' Eddie repeated his question, to which you nodded. But he needed you to say it and hear your voice.

'Yes.' He only wanted what's best for you, to protect you. But, of course, he would never do you any harm. 

'Good. Really, sweetheart, you don't know how happy I am I found you– you're so– you're just so perfect.' His perfect little lamb. All his. You couldn't tell if the heat burning inside you came from the candles or his words. 'You have always listened so well, always been so good. And you'll keep being good, won't you?' 

'Mhm.' The power of longer words escaped you. Eddie cupped your cheek in his hand, patting it gently.

'Because I really need you to listen and do as I say, baby. This is really important to me.' 

'But-' you pushed the words out, 'what are you doing?' You still couldn't quite make sense of the things around you. But Eddie smiled at your question, as if he had been expecting it, had wanted you to ask. Your hair was poking from behind your ears again, sticking at your cheek, which he brushed off. He could cut it right off with the knife in his hand– he always thought you would look prettier in shorter hair, it would frame your face so nicely–  but it would probably not be appreciated. Maybe one day, if he asked nicely if you would still have him after today.

Of course, you would. 

'We're going to heal the world, sweetheart.' He smiled his big gorgeous smile, but you were too caught up in his words. 'Restore the order of life, make everything wrong right again– you want to help me with that, don't you?' 

'Well, yes, but–' the fire was heating up the room quickly, and you could feel it on your skin. The knife in Eddie's hand kept reflecting the light, making you look at it, but each time you would, Eddie would press his fingers into your cheek so you would find his eyes again. 

'You don't have to be scared; I'm not going to hurt you. I need you to trust me, y/n.' The way your name flowed out of his lips, so smooth and sweet, you felt terrible just for having a thought of doubt ever sour mind. But even if you told yourself not to be scared, he did see that fear in your eyes. It was frustrating to see, because how many times could he comfort you? What would it take for you to understand him? Finally, he moved, turned slightly to the side, and the cold blade hit your arm. It did not cut or hurt, but it made you flinch. 

'Eddie–' your voice was so weak, nothing like he was used to. 

'Can I tell you a story?' He watched you nod your head. ''Humanity is a pest, y/n. We are poisoning our world with this structure and order, depending on these vices as if we were not the ones who had created them in the first place– there is nothing structural about us! We live our days just waiting for them to be over, numbing ourselves and telling lies to make it feel like it means something while it is entirely useless. It is hard to find a pure soul out there, yet… here you are. 

'Me?' you couldn't possibly imagine why you would have anything to do with this. 'I don't understand–'  

'You are at the centre of it all. My sweet sweet little lamb, fresher than fallen snow on a meadow. You are the prime example of what we all could be, a special gift. He sent you to me.' He had been gaining more and more energy and enthusiasm through his speech

'He?' You were starting to feel silly, being able to only respond with more questions and poorly phrased ones at that.

'Vecna,' he breathed out the word in a hush. You had heard him say the name before, but you had never questioned it, figuring it had just been one of the endless characters in his game. Eddie's eyes were bigger than you had ever seen them as he kept on talking passionately. 'He spoke to me, showed me everything. He was the one that made me realise just what a cruel and messed up world this is– and– and I'm not the only one. The people that lived here that died here… You know why they died, don't you? It had all been a part of this plan, you see. A… an offering. They gave their lives subject to a higher power. It was all for a greater cause.

'But they had not meant to die, it all just went so horribly wrong. They didn't know what they were doing, the Creels. But I do! Vecna told me and showed me everything I had to do in order to make this work. I've spent months making sure everything will go right, and you are the key. I need you to do this, y/n. Please.' In the time that you had met Eddie, you had seen a lot of sides to him. You had seen him be happy, sad, angry, tired, hyper, everything between and around it, but this was new. As he spoke to you, he almost seemed desperate. He was shaking with his words, purely out of the need to get his words out, for you to hopefully understand what he was trying to do.

The presence of the cold blade didn't get lost to you anymore, as you could feel it with every breath you took, pressing against your stomach with its flat side. You looked deeply into Eddie's eyes, trying to figure out what his intentions were with it, with you. Surely, he would not actually hurt you? That wasn't him. You could not imagine Eddie, your Eddie, doing such things as your scared mind was conjuring up at the moment. 

'You wanted to help me, didn't you? This would be the most wonderful thing you could ever do for me, y/n. It would be glorious. Just think about it, when it works, the life we will have together. Vecna will show you, help you as well. You just have to let him, let me.' 

Let me guide you, my little lamb. 

Let me help you, my sweetheart. 

Let me use you. 

He needed you. Truly needed you, and only you. You stood there, in your white dress, surrounded by the golden flames of the melting candles, Eddie just far enough not to press his body into yours. As he waited for an answer, maybe bored or nervous, he started tracing the knife over you. The tip of it pinched at your skin, teasing, over your arm up to your collarbone, down your sternum. It had hagged on the strap of the dress, and you had been sure he would have snapped it right off. It would have probably been enough for the whole dress to fall apart. It would pool at your feet, leaving you in nothing but your underwear in front of him. The thought of it should be flooding you with fear, but to your surprise– it excited you. All of it did, in fact. 

'What- what do you need me to do?' You pushed down the lump forming in your throat, but you didn't need much force for it as it dissolved at the sight of Eddie's relieved grin. He kissed the top of your head, the blade in the same hand he brushed your hair with, so you felt the steel at your ear. It made you shiver. You could hear him whisper some more of those little words he always mumbled, still unable to make any sense out of them. Then, he made you leave the circle of candles and walked you to the side of the room, where the symbols were painted onto the wall. It is then that you noticed that the black paint was still wet in spots, freshly applied, but long enough to have already dried up for the most part.

'Give me your hand,' he asked of you, and you eagerly obliged, placing your hand over his palm. But then he pulled that knife up again, and you flinched, which made him visibly upset with a frown. 

'I'm sorry,' you apologised before he had even said anything. 

'I understand, baby, all of this is new, but you have nothing to fear. I'm here, and I've always made sure you're safe, didn't I? Right, so you know you can trust me. Look–' he put up his own hand, flat in front of you, and dragged the sharp knife over the skin, breaking it from the centre of his palm, right to the edge. The blood immediately started to spill out, colouring his pale skin crimson. But what you focused on was how he had not winced, not twitched, barely moved a muscle as the blade penetrated his outer layer. His eyes had been focused on the cut, just to glance up at you momentarily, to ensure you were looking at him. He wiped the knife on his shirt, letting the cut drip out onto the wooden panels of the floor. 'See? It doesn't even hurt.' Then he wiped his hand on his t-shirt, smearing the blood all over it. With the small and shallow cut, it would dry up in a few minutes. There was really nothing to be scared of. Eddie never wanted to hurt you. He just wants what's best for you– what's best for everyone. Just like he had said: restore the world order, make what's wrong right again. 

So, you held your hand out, steady. But as much as you trusted him, you couldn't get yourself to look as he pressed the blade into you. It stung as it moved over your palm. 

'Open your eyes,' Eddie told you. You were greeted with dark red stains on your hand when you did. It was already pooling in the small cup of your manus, dripping between your fingers. It stung as if he had kept on cutting, even though you had heard him put the knife away. It was lying untouched on the set of vintage drawers now. 

Eddie's next words were another request, as he guided your fingers to close in over your palm. 'Squeeze it.' And he pushed your fingers closed. You yelped at the shooting pain that came from it. The indentation splurged for more blood to come out. You saw flashes of white in front of your eyes as Eddie pressed it harder. 

'You see it, don't you?' He asked you eagerly. You nodded, keeping your tears at bay. You didn't want him to see you cry, not when you didn't even mean to. It was just sort of happening. 

Then, Eddie pulled you a step forward, pressing your bloody hand against the wall. This again pulled a wince out of you. It was so sensitive, and he pressed it so hard. He needed the blood to make its mark. He used you like a paintbrush, adding strokes of red over the black, making new symbols out of the already existing ones, finishing what he had started. 

'Look how great this looks. And it could only be you, to make it all work. Only someone as pure and innocent as you has that kind of power.' He had everything prepared in advance, so when he dropped your hand from the wall, he reached for a towel that he had also placed on that dresser earlier. He pressed it into your hand, applying the right kind of pressure this time to hopefully stop the blooding rather than encourage its continuation. He took care of you, just like any other day, showing you that he was still your Eddie after all. There was nothing to be scared of. 

'Is this it?' You looked up at him, the towel still wrapped around your hand. His sympathies peaked through the corners of his lips. 

'Not just yet, baby. There's one more thing, but this we can do together, and I promise you'll enjoy it much more than this.' 

'What is it?' 

'You already started the cleansing process, but we have to show Him that we mean our loyalty, and for that, a sacrifice is needed– just a small one, don't be scared,' he hushed, taking the towel away. 'And don't be nervous. I know you will do well; I made sure of it. That's why we waited. Had to know you would be able to handle it, but you're ready now.' That funny feeling in the pit of your stomach emerged again, covering your body in a flash of heat. It was that frustrating sensation you just could not get rid of that even Eddie could not help you with… but now you were ready. So what the two of you did in his bedroom last Friday… the cycle would be complete. There would be no more torture and pleading for a release. He could bring you to it, finally. 

'You're ready now.' Eddie didn't show it, as he repeated his last words, but he was conflicted about it all. It broke him to see you lose some of that innocence, but it had to be done, and it was an honour that he would be the one to do it. Better him, who understood the value of your purity, rather than some boy who would use you for his own pleasure. In a way, he was doing this to protect you, too. By letting you join him in his venture, he was ensuring safety for you. He would protect you. Vecna will protect you. 

But for this, he actually had to make you his. 

Again, holding your hand, he led you through the room. Avoiding the candles spread out over the floor, he got you to stand next to the bed. Both your hands were sticky with drying blood. The cut still burned when he squeezed at your hand, but neither of you showed any signs of discomfort. 

He wondered if once this was all over, your eyes would still be full of the innocence he was so enamoured by. Would you still look at him with this naive bewilderment, or would he ruin you completely? If so, that would be his sacrifice. He would give up the pleasure of the sight for the sake of the greater good, naturally. 

This would then perhaps be the last time you looked at him this way, so he would have to cherish it to the fullest extent. He let his fingers draw down your face, caressing the soft apples of your cheeks. Finally, his thumb moved over your chin, barely touching your bottom lip. How long he had needed to feel it, touch all of you, but held back. Now he finally could, though. 

Too immersed in his deep brown eyes, you didn't see what was happening around them. You only heard him pull something out of his pocket– material. It was a handkerchief. But not the black skull he would wear often around the school. This one was white, like your dress. However, it was quickly getting tainted by the pink of the last remaining blood that could still transfer from his hands. How you had not noticed it on him before was a bit silly. 

The material was smooth and pleasant to the touch, warm, as Eddie pulled it over your face. The metallic scent of blood wavered over it; no one could tell whether it was his or yours. Eddie tied it behind your head, making sure your eyes were covered, and just like that, you were enveloped in darkness. 

'By taking away one sense,' he whispered into your ear, 'all the others get heightened. It is an experience like no other, to submit yourself to the elements. An honour. Now– ah.' He hadn't even needed to ask you anything, as when his thumb fell over your bottom lip, your mouth immediately parted, like an impulse, to let him enter. He pressed the finger over your tongue and watched you suck on it desperately. This was it—the first touch. Just like that, one simple act had already been enough to corrupt you. 

'Sit down. On your knees. There we go, so good for me.' If he hadn't known better, if he hadn't made sure you never lied to him about what you have or have not done, he wouldn't have assumed you had experience, that you knew exactly what you were doing. That his little lamb was, in fact, just a whore like everyone else. But no, of course, you weren't. He had prepared you for this moment, let out what was only in your nature already. It was the right thing to submit to his touch like this. 

But eventually, after a few seconds, he had to pull his hand away from you. The action came unexpectedly, and you were ready to follow him, even though you couldn't see where he had moved to. You tried your best trying to figure out what was happening, using those other heightened senses to their fullest potential. You could hear the flickering of the flames around you, and the burning smell came with it, which was still not strong enough to cover up the musky scent of Eddie, how the wooden floor dug at your knees, even through the fabric of your dress. And even though you could not see him, you could feel his presence towering over you. 

It didn't matter how much you tried to focus on your surroundings; nothing would have prepared you for Eddie grabbing you by your chin to pull your face up, hollowing your already open mouth into a perfect little O-shape. Next thing you know, you heard a strange noise and felt something wet touch your mouth, spill into it. The sensation made you squirm, no idea what it was that Eddie had just done. You didn't know what to do. 

'C'mon, baby. You know what to do when you have something in your mouth. Swallow.' He shut your mouth with his grip on it, helping you take the spit– because that's what it is, you realised– down your throat. He hummed in satisfaction through your whimpers. 'It's ok, baby. This is all a part of it. Got to get used to each other, it's all bonding.' He wanted to be closer to you, connected, and that idea warmed your heart. The way his hands then brushed over your hair, you nearly mewled into the touch. 

Trying to position him was difficult, as he seemed to walk circles around you, his lips filled with those mysterious words and mumblings again. If you could see now, you would have stared at the ground or the hands you had placed over your lap. His flavour was still in your mouth, and it felt strange, but not in the wrong way.

He had walked another circle around you before stopping at your back. You felt the tension on the dress as he pulled at one of the straps, letting it slide down your shoulder. Then the other. Eddie undid the zipper from behind you as slowly as he had pulled it up the day before in the dressing room. Except for this time, you were not wearing a bra underneath it. It wasn't the kind of dress that would really work with one, you had thought in the morning. It certainly wouldn't look pretty, with the undergarment straps visible, and you wanted to look nice when seeing Eddie… so, that is how you ended up sitting on the floor in this old house, hands on your lap as Eddie pulled the dress off of your top half, revealing your breasts to the hot air.

'So beautiful.' he said, mumbling something under his breath again. 'Absolutely beautiful. He let his hand wander over to your chest, toying with the nipples, taking turns in giving attention to them. To think he was the first person to have the pleasure to touch you like this. To make you arch your back with just a simple pinch– oh, and the sounds that fell from your lips as he pulled at them, he started to feel the constraint of his jeans. Stand up. 

Your legs were already sore from the position you had been sitting in, and they trembled as you got up. The dress fell off your legs, down to the ground as you did. You stepped out of it, accidentally kicking it to the side. A bitter smell erupted from somewhere in the room like the smoke was getting stronger. 

'What is that?'

'Nothing,' Eddie's calm tone had wavered for a moment, or so it seemed his following words were just as smooth and charming as before. 'Nothing you have to worry your pretty little head about. Just, c'mere,' It would have been difficult for you to do that with the blindfold in front of your eyes, but he had reached out with his hands to you.

And then, his lips were on yours. They were chapped as always, feeling a bit rough compared to how soft yours were. He tasted like the cigarettes he smokes when you aren't around, combined with another bitter flavour you couldn't place. It was soo much to take in, your senses all going into overdrive trying to keep up with him. You didn't know what to do with yourself, so you stood still, letting your lips move accordingly to how his did. But he kissed you with such an urgency, such hunger and vigour; you could hardly keep up.

It was messy and left your head spinning, nothing like you had actually expected your first kiss to be, but it was still perfect, as it was with Eddie. 

You were now completely naked, standing in this attic room filled with candles; Eddie was holding on to your sides, kissing your neck. Each time his lips left your skin, it didn't even matter as you could still feel him on you. The trace he left behind was sloppy and needy and seeking out the weak spot on your neck so you could roll your head back in pleasure. All of these feelings were so new to you, so overwhelming, but you understood why Eddie wanted you to wait, why you had to be ready for this… and it was only the beginning. 

Perhaps Eddie got a bit over-excited, for he suddenly picked you up off the ground, hands around your thighs. The suddenness made you scream out. You were utterly disorientated as he took a few stops and then dropped you down onto the bed. It could not have been a drop of more than a foot, but your stomach twisted. The mattress creaked loudly underneath you, but didn't continue as Eddie had not joined you in the bed just yet. So you lay there, waiting for whatever would come next– which was that Eddie had grabbed you by the hand and pulled you across to the head of the bed. A shriek left your lips. It would have been better if he had told you what he would be doing. The constant uncertainty of it all made your brain whirl. 

And then he took your other hand, before you could even say something and gripped both your wrists tightly. 

'Eddie, what–' you felt the cold metal against your skin and the faint clink of something locking. When he released your arms, you wanted to pull them away from what you assumed was the headboard, but you could barely move anymore. 

'Remember those handcuffs that always hang in my room,' Eddie had leaned down beside the bed to be at your level. As you could not see anything, you kept your head straight up, directed at the ceiling. Your breathing got heavier, the constraints confusing you, but Eddie had his reasons. 'It might all get a bit too much for you at a certain point, so this will help you keep grounded. And a physical restraint helps us as a reminder that we should restrict ourselves in indulgences, the things that only break us more. We do not want to get carried away, so this will help, I promise. Just trust me.' He kissed your cheek, which felt wet for some reason. His thumb brushed over the same spot his lips had just met, and then, for a short time that felt like an eternity, there was nothing. Eddie had moved to another part of the room; you could still hear him, walking, shuffling around, mumbling his usual incoherent phrases to himself. You tried to listen to them, finally trying to make out what he was saying, but it was too soft of a whisper that ended too close to his mouth. 

'My little lost sheep has finally found her way,' he said when he came back, the weight on the bed shifted, 'I have done my best guiding you towards this point, y/n, have done anything I could to protect you, to make sure you ended up here, where you belong. Now, you have to tell me, make the final decision– do you want this?' 

'Yes.' You wanted him. He had been gone far too long, and you were already missing his touch. The anticipation was building inside you, coming together at your centre, burning with a need for him. You had thought that hunger and thirst that had been torturing you over the past weeks, the one Eddie had told you to ignore, that it had died down after the little help he had given you, but it was all coming back ten times worse. Something in you was eating you alive, and you couldn't lay still anymore, closing your legs, trying to get some kind of friction from the movement of rubbing them together, trying to find an angle at which some kind of relief would come out. 

'Should have brought something to tie those pretty legs down as well. Stop, please.' He placed his hand over your thigh, rubbing circles over it slowly, 'you're gonna hurt yourself, moving like that.' So, you did stop, both the wiggling of your legs and tugging at the cuffs in frustration. His touch on your leg got rougher as he spread your legs wide open, revealing you to him. 

'Yes, there is no doubt about it, sweetheart. You are ready.' He said voice laced with something that you had never really heard before in Eddie– pure lust. So ready, and he touched you. Right there, between your legs, this time with no panties or jeans to keep you apart, you felt his calloused fingers slide right over your slit. He moved his hand up and down, stroking lightly, and with each lap, he would add a bit more pressure, letting his fingers slip past your folds but not entering you quite yet.  

You moaned; you didn't whimper, mewl or giggle. You moaned out his name. He had broken you now. Unsealed you. He was going to make you his. 

His little lamb. 

His fingers started moving faster, slipping inside you now and then, teasing. But you took it all so well, taking anything he gave you with the most gratitude. It was all so new, so much all at once; even a tease of his fingers was enough to make you see stars. He broke your barrier, broke you; there was no going back now that his fingers were deep inside you. Each time shooting up sparks through your body, letting you revel in it. You pulled at the handcuffs again, not because you needed to get out of them, but because you felt the urge to react somehow, and this was the only thing you could do. Hands tied up in the metal, legs spread out, and hips pushed down by Eddie's grip, you were stuck in a prison of delectation.  

As his fingers continued making you feel ecstatic, he kissed your thighs over and over again. A sweet and haste peppering of his lips at your sensitive skin, hot and needy for both of you. When he pulled his fingers away from you, you could hear a smacking sound, followed by a hum. 

'You know what you taste like, sweetheart?' 

'No?' you could not say that had ever been something you thought about, but now that he had subjected the question, you were eager to find out. 

'You taste like the sweetest nectar,' he kissed your stomach, 'Perfect and pure.' He could not get enough of your authenticity, your unadulterated and untouched body. It still hurt him to think that it would not last much longer, this vestal beauty and glow that seemed to radiate off you, but something so much better would come. Just you wait and see… 

Eddie started repeating his little phrases anew as the kisses continued, and, this time, you could hear his mumbled words more clearly, each syllable emphasised with a breath of hot air against your core. The exact meaning of the words might have escaped you, but it did not stop them from sounding like what it was. A prayer, a blessing, finished with his sigh of "Hail Lord Vecna" in almost a whisper, before delving between your legs and kissing you there passionately. 

The scream had not meant to come out, as the only thing you felt was a foreign pleasure. It was just a heavy shock to the system. Never before had you felt something like that. 

Eddie's tongue pressed deeper into you, dipping at your sweetest spot, licking at your arousal. Before this, the handcuffs had not felt much like a nuisance, but you understood it now. All you wanted to do was to grab Eddie by the hair, pull it, show him how good it made you feel– but it could be distracting. It could pull him out of his concentration, ruin his whole plan, everything he had worked so hard on. 

Yes, he had prepared, as he knew exactly what he was doing, reaching your desired spots, kissing you in a way you never expected a kiss to feel. You were glad he didn't tell you to keep quiet, because it did not seem to be a possible task. Moans kept leaving your mouth constantly.

'Eddie! Oh my–' your eyes rolled back, hips bucked up, which Eddie quickly pushed back down. But, to your horror, he pulled away from you entirely, and if you could see him, you would have seen his eyes, now almost as dark as a starless night, stare at you. 

'It's not me you should be thanking,' he kissed your pelvis before whispering another "hail Lord Vecna". 

'Hail Lord Vecna,' you repeated after him, but much breathier. 

'Yes, good, sweetheart. Say it again, Louder. He will be so happy to hear your voice say his name.' he encouraged. 

'Hail Lord Vecna,' you dared to say it, and Eddie supported it with a new kiss toward your clit. Then, with each repeat of the phrase, he extended it and kissed you longer and deeper until he was back to eating you out completely. 

Hail 

Lord 

Vecna

Not long after, the feeling came back, except ten times harder, as if you had already been circling around it for hours. Again, the knot in your stomach tightened. It was coming closer and closer– 

But Eddie pulled away again, at which you mewled out. 

'No, please, please,' you whined, much to his amusement. Eddie started making his way up again, hands on either side of you, leaving kisses all over your body, his metal necklace chain trailing behind until he reached your lips once more. His chin was wet with your juices, and you could taste yourself on him as he kissed you. A flavour that turned your stomach, but Eddie's hands were still on you, kneading and squeezing at thighs and hips, and then he pulled the blindfold off of you. It was dimly dark in the room, but you still had to get used to the light of the candles. Most of them had already started burning out. 

Eddie hovered above you, the white handkerchief in his mouth before he spat it out next to you. His hair fell down his face, the tips tickling at your collarbone and neck. All you wanted to do was to brush your hair through it, but you couldn't move your arms more than an inch away from the ornate headboard. 

'Eddie,' you whimpered, tugging at the handcuffs again. He just smiled and leaned in to kiss you again. That's when you noticed he had also taken off his clothes. You were both naked, piled on top of each other, in the most intimate and compromising position a person could find themselves in. 

Your heart was beating faster and faster, pushing against your chest, drumming in your ears. This was it. This is what everything had been leading up to. The moment Eddie had been preparing you for. The climax of his plan. 

He kissed you once more, tenderly.

'This might hurt, baby, but it should. It will be a good pain. The best feeling you've ever felt, so don't be scared, ok? It's all going to be ok.' He spoke with his eyes locked on yours; you were dazed and confused, unsure what he was talking about. You had already felt so good, couldn't possibly imagine something that would feel even better. 

But then the pain did come. There where his fingers, and his tongue, had been, and now you felt something stretch you out on the inside. Eddie pushed inside you, ripping you open, stretching you out. 

'Eddie!' You tugged at the handcuffs, but they didn't budge just like before. 

'Shh, this is good. It will be over soon. Trust me. Just trust me,' he repeated as he moved his hips. Moving out of you, but the pain didn't stop. Not when he pushed back into you or when he moved back out. With every thrust, it seemed to get worse, harsher and rougher, the pain not ceasing to stop but instead shooting up your spine. Soon, the tears started to roll down your cheeks again. 

'It's ok, it's all alright,' Eddie whispered, kissing your nose, but he let the tears roll this time, dropping down your ears into your hair and onto the mattress. Just another sign of your loss and what you were willing to give him. How good you were, so willing to give yourself up for the cause. He was so proud, and then your moans returned, and he felt his heart grow twice in size. You looked, sounded, and felt so perfect. 'Yes, that's right. So good. C'mon, baby, doesn't this feel good?' 

'Yes, yes,' you managed to say. The pain had finally receded and slowly turned to the promised pleasure you had been waiting for. The moans were now seeping out of you, body shaking at the force he was taking you with. His lips had made their way down to your breast, kissing at the valley between them, kissing over your pebbled nipples, sucking lightly, stimulating an even higher scream of pleasure from you. He kept on going, hard and fast. 

How right he had been, saying this would be the best feeling you'd ever feel. There was nothing like it than to feel him inside you, stretching you out, hitting at the right places that made your toes curl. He kept this power over you with just his movements, controlling your body with his, giving you so much to respond to. He had prepared, knew what to do to the right reactions out of you, what would please or not, what to do to make it all work. Not much longer now. It was so close, all coming to an end. 

'So beautiful,' his voice was airy but in a lost sense. He was seeking out oxygen as he continued his strikes. Both your breathing started to get heavier; everything was getting hotter and hotter around you. Your stomach tightened, and you remembered what Eddie had told you the first time it happened. 

'Eddie! I- I'm–' what was it that he had called it? You whimpered the words out before it got too much. 'I'm close! Please.' What you were pleading for, you weren't sure. But you had waited so long, so excruciatingly long, you couldn't take it anymore. 

'Wait, baby. Just a bit longer.' He huffed out, his thrusts becoming sloppier. 

'Eddie,' you cried out. How much more could you possibly wait before you would explode? 

'Be good for me. I know you can do it.' You wanted to cry and scream. He had made you wait so long, then said you were ready, just for you to wait even more. When would it finally end? When could you finally gain your euphoric release? 

Was this the sacrifice? This torture he put you under, was it all for the sake of his plan? Would this appeal to Vecna? Your tears and screams as you lost a piece of yourself to him, would that heal the broken part of the world? 

'Hail Lord Vecna,' he grunted with his final juts of the hips. It made your ears ring and your skin rise in goosebumps. And this gravelly coarseness stayed in his voice. 'Come. Come to me.' 

You would follow him anywhere; you knew that. And as he stopped to let his pleasure release into you, you followed right after. Stars were crossing over your shut eyes. You couldn't breathe, move, or do anything but let it all wash over you. A million butterflies fluttered inside you. 

Eddie cursed as he pulled out of you, and you immediately felt empty. It was like a spell had immediately dissolved out of you, and the fatigue took over. 

Just like that, it was over. 

'Here we go,' he breathed out, pulling the chain off his neck, where his guitar pick hung, but now it was also joined by the little key that fits into the handcuff lock. With a click, one cuff opened, then the other, and you were free to let your arms drop to your sides. 

You thought that moving was not an option anymore as you lay in that old bed, staring at the cracks in the wooden ceiling. The muscles in your arms were already souring, only to get even worse by the time the sun would rise again. You'd have to get home, but the idea of just getting up off the mattress was making you tired. Even rolling over to your side to greet Eddie's face was too much at the moment. 

But you could not stay there forever; the candles would burn out entirely soon, shrouding you in darkness and the cold. So, slowly you managed to get up, ignoring how everything seemed to sway around you. Just had to close your eyes for a second. 

You rubbed at your wrists, which were now red and sore from the handcuffs. Eddie had gotten off the bed, too, pulling his shirt over his head as you looked around to see your dress on the floor. The white fabric was covered in red stains. There was no way you could wear this outside now; what would your parents think if they saw the blood?! And maybe, relatively, it wasn't even that big of an amount, but the contrast on the snow white enhanced each drop to an extreme. 

'Eddie,' you gasped, reaching out for the garment, and that is when you noticed the scorch marks underneath. That bitter, smoky smell– it had been your dress burning. You wanted to cry. It was the only thing you had brought with you– your special gift from Eddie nonetheless– and it was now completely destroyed. 'I don't–' 

'Shhh,' he sat back down on the bed, taking your hand in his. The wounds on both of you had stopped bleeding entirely and were closing up, but it still hurt when he dragged his finger along the harsh line. Then, he leaned down and pulled a duffel bag from underneath the bed. It must have been where he had carried everything in. when he opened the bag, you saw a sealed candle, identical to some of the lit, nearly burned up ones around you. But he wasn't pulling the candle out of the bag. Instead, Eddie showed you clothes you recognised all too well. 'I brought these for you in case the dress wouldn't work out after all.' And he handed you the shirt and shorts, both yours, which you had had for years, your favourite until you had lost them, so you thought. Things got misplaced; after all, you could have easily forgotten them once you had been at Eddie's place. 

The fact he had kept them for you and brought them along to this house in case you would need a spare change of clothes… warmed your heart. 

With happy tears threatening to escaper your eyes, you hid your face in the crook of his neck. 

'I'm sorry, Eddie', you mumbled against him, still feeling horrible that his gift to you had been ruined. 

'It's ok, baby. We'll get you a new one.'  He caressed his hand over your back, giving you something to find comfort in. after all, that's all he wanted, for you to be safe and happy. Nothing but the best for his sweet little lamb. Always leading her in the right direction, straying from the dark and the dangerous. 'How about a black, this time? Or a pretty red one?' 

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[graves-simper]

What really happened in Room 302?

Yes, just like everyone else I am finally doing a small essay/analysis on TCOAAL.

This time I wanted to dive in something that wasn't a big part of the game, but has been on my mind since my first play through of the game and that is like the title states; What really happened in Room 302? Lets begin.

I wanted to start off by talking about the Lady in Room 302. Who is she?

We really don't know much. Her eye color isn't shown, she looks somewhat average but in terms of others opinions (ie; the Warden's and even Ashley) She is a very pretty woman. Even at a point Andrew says that she looks good. Take a look at some of the dialog below:

I mean, wasn't she?

After this very tasteful conversation these two love-birds have, Ashley heads up to commence the ritual to sacrifice the 2nd Warden, and of course Our Ashley pulls it off with no problems, and back downstairs she goes with full intentions of painting the wall with Lady 302's brains, but it appears someone beat her to the punch.

AND NOW I PRESENT WHERE I IMMEDIATELY BEGAN TO CALL CAP ON MR. DOORMAT EXTRAORDINAIRE AND HIS SILLY LITTLE LIES.

Your honor, this man is absolutely lying. The first thing that made me question everything about his story here is where she is lying dead. On the damn bed. Your honor, let's enhance this real quick.

That nail gun is a damn good several feet away from where Lady 302 lies dead on the bed. In fact it is in exactly the same position as when we left Andrew alone with her, and look at the sheer distance. These apartments clearly aren't huge but let me just be critical for a minute. Her mattress appears to be a single style mattress, so lets take in some measurements.

I can settle on the length being 75" or 6.25ft. So the apartment is about 12 feet wide. Not huge by any means, but to go from sitting down on a bed, even the edge, she would have to make quite the lunge while accounting for some random maniac being right next to you with a meat cleaver. I also do not think she would be the type to risk her life for a daring escape. Look at how absolutely bewildered she is the second Andrew rushes her.

That is NOT the face of someone who is absolutely down to fuck around and find out. She also had a chance to get help while also risking her life, when she is given the radio she could have screamed for help, and while yes she would've died, at this point I would say the risk factor was relatively similar.

Now that I have established my reasoning for why I don't think this lady tried to kill Andrew with a nailgun or even had the chance to, let's go over some of the reasons I think he DID choose to kill her.

No Witnesses.

This is a very boring theory but I have to bring it up no less. I think there is a good chance he just said fuck it, and killed her for the sake of not leaving evidence behind. She saw their faces, heard their names, and they even said they were her neighbor from upstairs. Leaving her behind could've ruined EVERYTHING for them after this point, and based on Ashley's sour reaction to her mere existence, I think he already knew damn well Ashley would want her dead too.

Make my Ashley happy.

This ties back to the point I made in No Witnesses. Ashley took her as a threat, and obviously Andrew noticed. She was not pleased after he called her "Pretty". I think once he was alone, he figured he would off her to show Ashley that he wasn't ogling her or wanting to do anything with her. In fact she meant so little to him, he butchered her right on her bed. To support this, the way Ashley reacts when she returns absolutely floors Andrew, he is calm about what happened but Ashley is still coming up with thoughts that he tried to fuck her, when in his mind, he was probably hoping she would be thrilled that he killed this awful, hell-bound, hussie. But instead she is still somehow mad despite her being now a corpse. He becomes to fed up that even though he did what she would've anyways, it is somehow not good enough for her. (I will dive deeper into this interaction below with another theory that relies heavily on this.)

The Hussie hit on him.

This one ties into Make my Ashley happy. There is a good chance this obviously sexually attractive woman tried seducing Andrew while they were alone. She had no problem doing it with the Warden's to get better treatment, and I have no doubt this was her go-to get out of trouble free card. This charming young man would surely fall for her good looks right? Right? There's two thought processes that would make this reasonable. 1. He was worried how Ashley would react if she walked in with her clearly flirting with him and how that would make her feel. 2. My personal favorite of these two, he is dedicated to Ashley and was offended by her advances and killed her in a show of devotion to her.

Now that we have the more sane theories out of the way, lets get to the GOOD STUFF.

Andrew's Fantasy.

This theory is more of a mental guess as to Andrew's relationship and views of Ashley. He has been clearly fed up with her more than once up to this point, having arguments, dealing with her shit, and all the trauma he just experienced from starving for weeks, isolation, and having to butcher and eat someone, and then murder a man to save her.

What if once Andrew had a moment alone with someone who was essentially his victim, he decided to truly see how he felt about something. I believe Andrew may have not seen Lady 302 as Ashley, but just for the hell of it, imagined that she was Ashley. Despite the different appearances, I'm sure he could overlook it in the state of mind he was in at this point, and decided how it would feel to finally kill "Ashley". The way he kills her just doesn't feel like he said fuck it and wanted the lady dead, she is laid out on the bed, there's no signs of a struggle either. Later in the game during one of the visions, there is the one where Andrew finally kills Ashley. When she accepts that he will kill her, he brings the cleaver to her throat similarly to how the throat of Lady 302 was cut. The similarities just feel so similar that I had to bring this up despite it being possibly far fetched but that's what makes these fun!

and now for my most absolutely far fetched theory yet.

Don't these two look similar?

This theory is much more far fetched but hear me out on this!

I know this may be a result of Nemlei's artstyle but these two have some stark similarities in my opinion. Both blonde, same eye color based on the greyscale of them, similar hair parting, and a similar face shape.

After all the trauma Andrew went through in the weeks locked in their apartment and then killing several people and eating one no doubt sent his brain to a bad place.

I think after all that hell he endured he may have simply had a breaking point and felt like he saw a ghost or just the stark similarities between Lady 302 and Nina just made something snap.

I want to back this up by making a point to the story telling in the game. Before they go and escape their apartment conveniently before the Room 302 incident, there is a dream about how Andrew and Ashley killed Nina. This could be just the flow of the story telling however, I feel like it was a lead up to what really happened in Room 302. It just feels too perfect to include that scene right before he kills someone who I am assuming is what Nina may have grown up to look like, AND then with this scene occurring once Ashley returns almost feels like a nail in the coffin of this theory.

Nina isn't brought up in the apartment, or once they're in the motel. Nina is brought up during a heated exchange in Room 302 right after Andrew might have felt as if he killed Nina once again, yet just like when they killed Nina, Ashley still somehow thinks that Andrew has a thing for a woman he helped kill, and this absolutely drives him off his fucking rocker.

This exchange floored Mr. Doormat so intensely he finally was ready to absolutely throttle the life out of her. Andrew was finally so fed up with being berated for doing things for Ashley's sake he just wanted it to be done and over with forever. Andrew once again found himself in the same place Ashley put him in all those years ago, but this time he knows he isn't as vulnerable as he was and uses it to his advantage, but after their little squabble, they leave together to bless our hearts with Chapter 2.

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

Perhaps this was as plain as the story made it out to be. There is a good chance that Andrew didn't want to leave a witness and said hell with it and butchered the woman in Room 302. But I'd like to believe that with all the hidden details Nemlei has scattered throughout this game that there is truth to one of these theories, hell maybe even a giant jumble of them all together is the true story of Room 302.

But with everything I presented today I hope you all perhaps are too questioning what really happened in Room 302 like I was.

I'd love to hear any theories you guys have regarding this or twists/opinions on the ones I presented here!

Thank you all for reading!

[h0nkshroom]

I finally got around to making my own lil self insert guy for cotl but then I sillied too close to the sun and give him way too much thought

He was loyal to Shamura, staying by their side as simply a follower who looked up to them so much. Unbeknownst to Kili, Shamura sent out a group to go cleanse the nearby villages for meat and vessels for sacrifice. After having witnessed the next sacrificial ritual, which was the sacrifice of his little sibling, he dissented against Shamura and ran back to his then destroyed and baren home, where he would stay until a certain Lamb came by.

And lets just say once Shamura gets indoctrinated, the two have some interesting encounters..

[rickoconnells]

Spoilers for bg3 ending under the cut but I'm having a lot of thinkings and also feelings on how you spare your companions from being manipulated by godlike beings while falling victim to it yourself repeatedly by the emperor's hand

Aaaanyway. I'm on my second playthrough, deeply unhappy with the choices I made in the first. Like a lamb being led to slaughter, the Emperor manipulates Tav into being little more than a pawn. And I'm annoyed. And this is word vomit.

Yes, you can refuse to give him the stones, and you can either damn yourself or save Karlach in the worst possible way, but regardless, Orpheus dies. The githyanki, who would kill the Emperor, remain Vlaakith's slaves. The Netherbrain, who would kill the Emperor, dies. He is free and you have served your purpose. You will not hear from him again. In fact, you only heard from him when he needed you.

He lies. Continually. Actively and by omission. He appears as the dream visitor, kind, exactly what you want to see - your protector, he REPEATEDLY reminds you. He opens up, he's vulnerable, only YOU can save this sad, trapped dream lord. Save him from what? He won't tell you. You're not ready. Just keep serving him and maybe one day you'll be good enough to know more. Just like Mystra holding back the Weave from Gale. Just like Cazador building an army using Astarion and his siblings' bodies. Just like Shar ripping Shadowheart's memories away again and again. Just be good and some day they will give you what you want.

He never lied. He just didn't tell you. You couldn't handle it. Didn't tell you he was illithid. He couldn't trust you. Trust him. Didn't tell you he was Balduran. Didn't tell you he killed his best friend, clearly in love with him, to save his own neck while that best friend was in the right. He could be once again controlled by the elder brain. He was trapped and controlled by Gortash. He had his fingers in the spine of Stelmane and by extension the city. He was a danger to everyone. But the Wyrm had to die - can't you see? He never lied. He just didn't tell you because it wasn't important. You weren't important enough to know. Don't be so silly. Don't overreact.

Whatever you do, don't free Orpheus. Because then you're being unreasonable. Then you're leaving him no choice. He has to join the Netherbrain, betray you, join what he has been forcing you to fight so hard against, kill you dead for not doing what he wanted, sacrifice you in a ritual of power, make you kill your parents, send your mentor to tell you to detonate the bomb in your chest, snuff out your life for a contract you've broken, take out your heart, make you a slave.

The game is telling you, over and over again, with your companions quest lines, that this is happening. And we all think because we're the hero of the story, it couldn't happen to us, when in reality everyone is the hero of their own story, and everyone has risked the same downfall.

[ijuststareatstuffhereok89]

*SPOILER FIC FOR LOKI S2 FINALE*

Do not read until you have watched or are otherwise ready to be spoiled. THIS IS YOUR WARNING!

Idunn & The Golden Apple

In the village of Time’s Ridge, they say when a little girl is sacrificed, she is adopted by the gods and granted any wish she makes. When the orphan Idunn is driven over the side, she blinks and finds herself before a mysterious entity known as the God of Stories. Luckily, in order to gain his favor, she brings a small sacrifice of her own before his glowing throne. 

Characters: Loki, OFC (child), cameos of Thor and Mobius  Genre: Tragedy, Comfort, Found Family Word Count: 3.3k Content Warnings: SPOILERS FOR LOKI S2 FINALE!, Loki gives off dad vibes, child sacrifice 

This time, the annual sacrifice at Time's Ridge was almost a scandal. Woeful Idunn was only ten-years-old.

She stood on the precipice, overlooking the glowing green abyss she’d once played beside thoughtlessly, unaware at the time that it was about to become her grave. Her thick red hair was woven into two braids, laced with daisy blossoms. Idunn was wearing a gray frock meant to symbolize her mortality and humility, she kept her hands in the pocket of her simple, tattered pinafore, her left hand curled around a small ball hidden away.

Instead of weeping like most sacrifices did, Idunn was choosing to go with at least a little dignity (not that anyone was there to be awed by her maturity--being an orphan, no one really cared how she looked anyway). Perhaps she wasn’t even all that upset about being picked by the Leader to die on behalf of Time’s Ridge. A less-brained individual might be flattered by being selected. 

Of course, Idunn knew better. The only reason she was here was because no one would miss her.

The green glow of the bottomless pit was somewhat new, and that was when The Ritual began, some two generations before Idunn was born and left to die by a helpless mother. No explanation was given, but the green aura of the trench appeared, and suddenly: the perpetual storms plaguing the fields ceased. People stopped disappearing mysteriously…at least until things began getting worse again. Then, only a few years before Idunn was born, a child fell into the trench and disappeared, but time and the weather stabilized again, and so it was accepted that  only the gift of a child’s wish brought personally to whatever god watched over Time’s Ridge, the sad little village at the end of the universe, would bring safety back. 

It was always such an honor to be picked to die, until it was your turn. Then, if you were fortunate enough to have a parent of means, your only hope to live to see the following year was to have them bribe the Leader to pick someone else. 

“Idunn, Blessed Daughter of Time’s Ridge!” The Leader began his ceremonial monologue, which was surprisingly ho-hum for being the prologue to child homicide. “Today, you are being sent into the Higher Worlds to seek out aid for our small community--”

I’m not waiting for this, the little girl thought. Let’s just get it over with. I have nothing to stay for. She covertly pulled the golden ball from her pocket and held it up, slowly turning before the crowd. 

“May I eat before I jump?” she asked. Gasps rang out. 

“Where did she get one of those?” someone called out.

The Leader smiled sadly, shaking his head. “You may, Little Idunn. Though I am not sure as to where you found one. But be aware, silly girl, even one of those won’t save your conscious life now.” 

Idunn  twisted her lip, looking at the golden apple in her hand, shrugging and taking a large bite. The taste was as if the Creators themselves invented the perfect sweet. The crisp skin snapped between her teeth, and the delicious juices felt almost like a cool, gentle tea rolling over her tongue. 

I just hope the weird peddler who sold it to me was right, Idunn thought bravely, looking down at the apple as the bite mark she made instantly healed itself, creating a perfectly full piece once more. 

A bolt of lightning broke overhead, causing the little girl to jump backwards, startled, her courage failing her for the first time. 

“An honorable sacrifice should not be afraid of a little lightning,” mocked a cruel adolescent from the crowd. 

Idunn looked back over her shoulder at her glowing tomb. “I’m not overly fond of what follows,” she replied, deciding to turn around, the juices and magic sugars from the golden apple beginning to fall into her stomach and move around inside, warming her core. 

Work quickly, work quickly…come on…

She breathed in and raised her voice, which boomed many times larger than her petite body would suggest she could utter. “I hate you all, and I would live forever with no guilt at all if it meant each one of you got to fall into the pit in my place. I hope the timeline frays and swallows you all whole!”

The disapproving murmurs from her assembly of executions gave her a small pinch of satisfaction. One last victory for the condemned. She couldn’t delay it any more when the cruel Leader signaled for the pounding, rhythmic drums to sound. 

Fine, even if this is it for me, I don’t want to be here anyway.

The only regret Idunn had in the moment before she fell forward into the abyss was that she was born in Time’s Ridge, a place so afraid of the shifts in time and space that were otherwise so natural around their realm that they would throw children off cliffs in order to make the gods happy. 

Gods, Idunn thought. Good thing gods aren’t real. 

Idunn decided not to give the Leader the satisfaction of reciting the poetic Final Prayer of the Sacrifice, and instead did a graceful twist of her small body, her red braids flying about her face and standing out even in the twilight suns, falling over with just enough time to wave goodbye to the village before meeting her fate at the bottom of a fraying timeline’s abyss.

The little girl felt the sensation of falling…more falling…even more…then a blinding green light followed by the feeling of being lifted by a thin arm or branch---

Gods aren’t real. Gods aren’t real.  Gods aren’t real. Gods aren't--

Infinite branches of time, universes, were binding Loki to his throne amidst a sea of green matter and light, where he would be sitting until time itself decided to rip his duties from him and end existence. 

That…that would be soon, right? 

Worse than the eons that were beginning to pass before his eyes without him, promising adventures he would never have, romantic nights he would never see, were the whispers, the noises. Loki could hear every spoken voice in every timeline, but they were all a low, maddening hum that rang in his ears as he sat, legs apart, in his supernatural throne room, nothing but the years for company. Of course, the voices of those he knew in life were the loudest and hardest to hear. 

And he was hungry. So. Damn. Hungry. 

Even Gods needed to eat, but what was there to find in Loki’s palace of emerald and gold, buried underneath countless layers of timeline branches, ensnared in the prison of Yggdrasil? Loki couldn't die of starvation, but the hunger pangs would frequently send surges of pain through his core, out his arms, and as a result, a few timelines would flicker for a moment before regaining normalcy. It was likely these places would only see inclement weather or a few years of time skipped over as a result. 

It was painful, but the only way Loki could check on his few allies was through the branches tying him to his noble seat. Sometimes, he would follow the sound of Mobius’ slow voice and find his favorite timeline: where Mobius was happy, retired, living with his adult sons and their spouses and children on a cabin by the beach (three jet skis and an ATV in the garage, of course). 

He smiled as he saw OB’s TVA manuals and novels being stored away in a timeproof capsule for posterity, ensuring his legacy. The little man was never taller. 

He’d even caught a glimpse of Thor from time to time, and Loki had spent countless hours following him from afar as he traveled with a small band of space brigands. He even managed a chuckle upon seeing what Thor was getting up to: “Father would be embarrassed…and that music is terrible.” 

Not that it mattered. 

He was forever burdened with glorious purpose, just as he’d prophesied as an arrogant youth. Now, I’m gloriously burdened, Loki thought. He nearly smirked at the poetic irony, or perhaps it was justice for his past transgressions that fit the same meter. A Loki with freedom would have enjoyed the twist for what it was. 

A tear formed at the corner of his left eye at the thought. Forever. Here. No food or love or friendship to keep his heart from slowly eroding away with the millennia. 

Suddenly, the branches around Loki’s wrists began shaking, writhing in his grip, as if a blustery wind disturbed them. He looked up, his eyes following one of the timelines furthest away from his immediate sight: a gray and lethargic piece of the Tree of Life. As the other tendrils of time began shaking furiously at some invisible disturbance, this branch suddenly exploded into a thread of white hot light before curling in on itself and returning to its original state. 

Loki attempted to get to his feet, but he was still bound by the thousands of other timelines he protected. No matter, the odd shift in the air quickly subsided, at least until a brief ‘pop’ was audible from somewhere ahead of Loki’s line of vision, buried behind the twisting strings of time. 

“Odd,” analyzed the God of Stories, “but amounting to nothing.”

Alas, he was wrong. For almost immediately after his declaration that the anomaly was of no concern: a small, high voice cooed from beyond the branches. 

“H…hello?”

Loki felt his heart still, his skin cool, and a strange current in the air moved about the green chamber, rustling the hem of his cape where it met his boots. It was the first time since he took his place on the throne that it did so. 

No, it’s a trick. 

“HELLO?” 

No one, no mortal could survive being here. It’s why it had to be me…

“Is there someone here?”

No, that’s certainly another’s voice. 

Loki dared to hope after all this time. He opened his mouth to reply…but nothing fell out other than a few sharp notes and breath. Had it been so long since he’d used his vocal chords?

Out of the tangle of time streams before Loki, a diminutive, pale figure stumbled over herself, gripping something yet unseen in her hand, wearing a disgusting, dirty gray slip. A little girl, no older to existence than a spring lamb. 

Norns, it’s a child! 

“Is this heaven?” the little girl asked, brushing a fiery red braid from her shoulder and walking hesitantly into the throne room. “Or somewhere else?”

Loki’s mouth hung open, but his words still somehow failed him. 

“Are you The Creator, or some God? Are you real? I didn’t think you would be. I guess I’m glad you are.” 

The questions were pouring out of Idunn’s mouth so quickly that Loki was reminded of himself as a child, when he’d ask his mother one too many questions. 

“Maybe I should--”

“Who are you?”

Idunn was so startled at the Green King’s first successful words to her, she leapt backwards, tumbling over a branch that her ankle met by accident. Loki nearly attempted to rise again. 

“Are you alright?”

“I’m Idunn,” said the girl, regaining composure remarkably quickly. 

“...Loki.” 

A moment of awkward silence went by before Idunn took another step back toward the throne. “Are all those a part of you?” she asked, her thoughts as aimless and unorganized as any ten-year-old’s. 

Loki looked up into the time vines, feeling smaller and more alone than ever in the surreal presence of this little creature who’d managed to survive an entrance into open time without being torn into tiny threads and scattered across space.

“I suppose they are.” 

Idunn sighed, shrugging and positioning herself at his feet. “I didn’t know gods were real. I thought they were just an excuse to--”

“--oh, gods are real, little one--”

“--get rid of me.” 

Loki fell silent again, this time stunned at the bluntness of the child, and the darkness of her admission.

 “What kind of miniature sorceress are you, Miss Idunn?” he asked, his voice starting to lighten in an attempt to alleviate the child’s fears. “Your powers must be fearsome if you stand before me now fully intact.” 

“I’m not a witch,” Idunn conceded. “They just chose me for the sacrifice this year, and I had something to help myself survive.” 

Loki didn’t know what part of this distressing declaration to address first. “Sacrifice?”

Idunn nodded, looking about the branches above her head, pointing to the one that was still recovering from the intrusion. “Time’s Ridge. They call it The Village at the End of the Universe. They sacrifice a child every year to stop the storms.” 

The God of Stories was aware of the histories of many of his burdensome tethers by now, but even Time’s Ridge was a mystery to him. 

“Sacrifice?” he repeated as the oblivious blatherskite before him went on, her fears quickly alleviating into a more normal enthusiasm that suited a youth her age. 

“Yes,” affirmed the girl, “but the night before they took me to the abyss, a strange man came by my cell window and offered me this.” 

She showed Loki the golden apple, causing his jaw to drop again. The girl was unfamiliar, but the apple was unmistakably Asgardian. A rare delicacy, the Golden Apples of Asgard gave the Gods their eternal youth and immortality. Every god had a single one on their person, for sometimes one could find themselves pulling back from the edge of oblivion by virtue of one bite.

They were so rare because they were so difficult to cultivate. Any one mistake during the process would render the apples lethal to even the Allfather. The only grower Loki knew to be alive was an elderly Asgardian somewhere out in the cosmos. How he made his way to this little urchin teetering at the edge of everything and knew to offer her the last apple in existence, Loki couldn’t even guess. 

“Did he say where he got that?” Loki’s eternal hunger suddenly caught up with him again upon seeing the golden apple in her small hand. 

“No. All I can remember is that he was very strong and handsome for a peddler. Only other thing I can remember is that he was blonde. Oh, and he had a big hammer with him, too. I think he was looking for me directly, like he knew who needed this.” 

Loki’s cold skin shot back into a warm heat that made two more tears stain his cheeks. 

Idunn looked regretful. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean to make you cry! Did you want a bite?”

Loki looked sadly off to his sides. “I cannot eat. I cannot let go of even a single one of these timelines, little one. I couldn’t hold an apple or a spoon.” 

The child looked from Loki to the apple, and back. “So then I’ll help!” she said as simply as if it were the answer to 1 + 1.

Before the god could protest, or even ask, Idunn had taken it upon herself to climb Loki’s throne and sit in his lap, holding the unbitten apple before his lips. “Don’t you want--?”

Loki didn’t wait, his hunger overriding any sense of decorum, and accepted a large mouthful of fruit, almost unhinging his jaw like a snake to consume as much sustenance in a single crumb as he could. As a result, Loki had accounted for half of the apple with his bite. Idunn giggled at Loki’s accomplishment. 

The food was not only the single most delicious morsel of food he’d ever consumed, but he felt it travel down to his stomach before warmly blossoming, artificially filling his stomach for the time being. The pains subsided almost immediately, and a surge of energy filled Loki’s veins.

Then, something remarkable happened that he didn’t expect. The timelines glowed gold instead of green for a moment, and each one that was even remotely loose or frayed was repaired and made stronger than it had been before. Small orbs of gold began appearing above their heads, looking as if golden apples were growing on the branches of the World Tree. Idunn gasped. 

“Pretty!” she whispered. “I didn’t know these could do that!” she declared excitedly, looking down at the apple. 

“Nor I,” said Loki, his gratefulness to the strange girl present in his tone. I wonder if this is affecting the beings within?

“Do you have children?” asked Idunn, suddenly. Loki shook his head, his large, horned diadem nearly whacking the girl off her perch. 

“No. Do you have…parents?” he asked hesistantly in return. 

“No. No one wanted me.”

Loki’s heart went out to the child. “I know the feeling.”

Idunn sighed. “Why do you think they picked me to jump at Time’s Ridge?”

Loki looked sadly down at the apple in Idunn’s fist, already repairing itself. 

“I’m alone,” Idunn continued. “I had to come here in order to save everyone else while they move on with their lives without me. No family, no reason to expect to find one.”

Norns, am I looking into a mirror?  Loki smiled, feeling an odd new sensation one could only describe as paternal. “Perhaps…when two unloved, unwanted people find each other, there’s a family to be found there, little one.”

Time passed, how much neither the entombed god nor the condemned child knew, but this was because neither cared. It was here that The God of Stories was able to share his own tales for the first time, and once he and Idunn moved past the initial shock of discovering one another here, in the darkest and least likely of places, his long stretches of details quickly became libraries’ worth. 

Idunn may have been young, but her maturity was at least partially Asgardian. Loki suspected her heritage could have been closer to his own peoples’ than one would expect of one of the lowly residents of the edge of time. As such, Loki found his paternal instinct toward Idunn grow, and as infinite measures of time began to pass, he began encouraging her to eat and rest in between stories and songs. After all, she was only as immortal as the apples made her. She was not a god, nor a full Asgardian.

Before long, Loki felt compelled to say what had slowly begun to creep into his mind once she appeared: it’s so wonderful having someone to talk to.  

Instead, he addressed what he least wanted to. “Idunn,” he said. “Unlike myself, you are free to leave here at any time.”

She sighed. “Are you tired of me now?”

He quickly denied her with a sad face and a headshake. “I suppose I just wanted to inform you that you could probably enter any one of these timelines and find a better world to live in than the one you knew…and the one that is here.” 

Are you mad? thought Idunn. Why would I leave you, the first person to ever listen to me?

“No, I think I’ll stay here a while. You need someone to help you eat, and I need…”

Loki smiled and completed her thought. “...a glorious purpose?” 

“Exactly.”

She nodded. “As long as I have this, and as long as you won’t tell me to jump off a ridge, then I will be here for you, King Loki.” 

“Sweet daughter Idunn,” Loki whispered in relief, “just know one final thing: please don't call me King Loki.”

Idunn giggled and threw her arms around Loki’s shoulders in an embrace of perfect love and trust. For the moments she couldn’t see his face, Loki allowed the tears to fall freely. 

Thus, the Goddess of Youth took her place alongside the God of Stories, giving him the strength and companionship he needed to hold reality aloft on his shoulders for however long the whims of fate would have him there. 

For as long as she stayed there, Loki never knew loneliness again. 

Yeah, this fic is basically "a wild daughter appears!" like Thor: L&T was for Thor, but Loki just can't and shouldn't be alone on top of the multiverse like that. Come on, y'all.

MY MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @acidcasualties @coldnique @fictive-sl0th @gigglingtiggerv2 @gruftiela @holdmytesseract @holymultiplefandomsbatman @itsybitchylittlewitchy @joyful-enchantress @loopsisloops @lokisgoodgirl @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr @michelleleewise @mischief2sarawr @peachyjinx @anukulee @queen-chaos-of-hell @purplegrrl27 @ozymdias @smolvenger @mrs-illyrian-baby

[gabessquishytum]

Wandering jack of all trades Hob (minstrel, storyteller, bard, handyman) wanders in to a village that makes sacrifices to the Terrible & Great Spirit of the forest. Hob can hear the all caps, even tied up as he is to this altar.

It seems, so the village wouldn't have to sacrifice one of their own this time, they choose (secretly,,, to Hob anyway) to use Hob as this years sacrifice. They might feel sad about it, because Hob seems like a nice guy, but him or them.

Dream (or Great Forest Spirit, "terrible" seems a bit much) has decided to visit the towns that he protects. It been eons seemingly since he walked among humans and his sister poked at him for being so removed -- yes, even Eldritch spirits have family.

Dream has never rightly cared how the villages under his "protection" work to secure that protection -- honestly it's been ages since Dream even cared about such "formalities," but he's on walkabout right now and encountering all the village rituals.

Dream can't say he likes humans any more than he did before, but the mead and dancing rituals in his honor are nice....(he might give those villages a little extra zhuzh.). The villages that choose blood rituals are less fun, but Dream gets it.

💫💫💫💫

When Dream first got to this new village it seemed nice and he met another traveling visitor Hob, please call me Hob, who seemed to make it his mission to make Dream smile (and laugh) with his ludicrous "stories" and silly songs. Dream was not used to a human who wasn't off put by his natural weirdness. More over, Dream didn't sense any bad intentions from Hob, just interest in Dream. Dream was charmed, despite himself.

💫💫💫💫

Dream stepped away for like a minute (it was more like a month or two), and comes back to find Hob naked, tied to an altar, about to be sacrificed to, well, him.

Unacceptable.

Certainly, Hob was Dream's! But not in a stabby way.

Aalsjdjdshahaj I have this mental image of Dream just. Growing. Taller and taller and more eldritch by the second. The villagers are flattening themselves against the ground in fear. Hob is watching and trying not to be horny about it (he's still tied to the altar and he's only 90% sure that Dream isn't going to like. Eat him).

Eventually once he's been rescued, Hob is like "so you're the Great and Terrible Spirit, huh? That's kind of a fancy title. Am I still allowed to call you Dream?"

And Dream (still eldritch as fuck, around 8 feet tall with long claws and huge black eyes and teeth) leans down and regards Hob’s still naked form: "you are mine, and thus may call me whatever name you like."

Hob gives up trying not to be horny. It's not like he can hide anything from this awesome, beautiful creature anyway. God, he can't wait to write a ballad all about Dream.... with a verse specifically dedicated to his massive magical dick.

[telvess]

Halloween is over but the spooky never ends

Reaction to a handing SO a spell jar/ them finding out they have an alter dedicated to them

Jataka, Loki, Buddha, Your favorite

RoR: Receiving a spell jar from s/o OR finding out s/o has an alter dedicated to them (Jataka, Loki, Buddha, Thor, Apollo)

Jataka (spell jar)

That’s very kind of you. Jataka had received gifts from others before, either because he was their prince, or because he was sick, and they tried to comfort him, but from you… it was a different feeling. Especially if there’s no occasion.

Jataka will ask all kinds of questions about the spell jar. He's interested in whether it's part of your culture or just a little thing that's been passed down in your family for generations. If this is important to you, he'd love to hear the details. Seeing how excited you are to share this part of your life with him makes him happy.

He holds the jar close to him. He doesn’t believe it actually has any mystical power, but it was created by your hands and that’s what’s important. You put your whole heart into it, so how could he not appreciate it?

Loki (spell jar)

The what? A spell jar? Pfft, hahahaha, how stupid of you! It has no power! It’s nothing! Silly human rituals…

proceeds to keep it anyway

And then he plays dumb if you find out he actually kept it. Good luck getting him to tell the truth. He would never admit that a gift from you is very precious to him. Of course, part of him wants it, but another part knows that you know the truth…

Loki likes to keep spell jar in his pocket, it’s small and easy to hide. Sometimes when he gets bored he just play with it a bit, wondering why he doesn’t just find you instead and play with you…

Yes, he will definitely pay you a visit.

Buddha (alter)

Oh? Did you do this for him? How sweet of you. But can you put some good candies on it? This is the kind of offer that interests him.

Buddha mocks you a bit about this whole thing. Nothing serious, of course, but he finds your altar amusing. He used to be a prince, he is a god now, and he still doesn’t care much about sacrifices, gifts, prayers, bows… everything that people do for those they consider superior over themselves. It’s just not his thing.

At some point he will tell you he doesn’t need it. He wants you to waste your time not on your alter, but on him. But once again - bringing the candies as an offering is never a bad option.

Bonus characters:

Thor (spell jar)

But do you remember that he is the strongest among the Norse gods?

He doesn’t need luck to win his fights, but once you point out that he might need it for other stuff, Thor will accept the gift.

He keeps it in his private chambers, in a safe place. Far from Loki’s hands (But let’s be honest, Loki will find out somehow anyway). Thor checks it every night before sleep, except when you share a bed with him.

He thinks you’re adorable with your little spells.

Apollo (alter)

The alter for him! Made by his sweet s/o! How lovely, how wonderful!

His narcissistic side is very pleased to see how much time and work you put into making something just for him. Apollo takes his time admiring the work of your hands. He asks questions about details and compliments profusely.

If he found out by accident and you’re embarrassed, don’t worry. Apollo wouldn’t mock you. BUT he may mention your little secret to Ares or Hermes (he’s so proud of you) and they might sneak in a few snarky comments.

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

Heyy , i'm back🤭

Alright, getting to the point.

How would it be like Jeff and E.J. when I find out their y/n is a witch?

Oooh a witch! As a green "witch" myself i finally have a fic i can base off my own experiences 😈

Thank you so much for requesting!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jeff the killer

He's kind of disrespectful with it tbh

Hes such a little shit omg

"Jeff! That moon water was supposed to last me the whole month!"

"I was thirsty, shit"

Well, at least he's cleansed now

He likes looking at your crystals

He especially likes the natural ores, like the big amethysts or flourite shards

His favorite is obsidian

He asks to help with your spells and rituals constantly

He's more into the whole blood sacrifice, baneful magic shit, so if that's not your practice, He's not as into it but he'll still be interested

If you ever wanna do something involving him, he'll most likely say yes

He'll let you cleanse him, He'll help you with gathering materials, etc

But he absolutely will not meditate with you

His adhd having ass will not be able to focus for that long

Sometimes you have to bullshit him a bit

For example, if he comes home super angry at another one of the creeps;lets say he's angry at Tim

He'll be super angry at tim and he'll ask you to curse Tim

Which you obviously cant do

And so you make up a silly spell, that satisfies Jeff's need for a curse, but doesn't actually do anything to tim

Also, don't keep any of your magical shit in his room because i promise you, it will get ruined

Eyeless Jack

He finds your practice interesting

Most of the time he simply lays back and watches you do your thing, silently taking mental notes here and there

He'd also be happy to buy you more supplies

More candles, more herbs, more crystals, all of it

He will buy all of it

He personally wouldn't want to take part in any of your practices though

It just kind of makes him uncomfy

He just likes looking

However, he does enjoy the scientific parts of it

Like how humans are 70% water, and since the moon controls the tides he understands the fact that people believe in moon phases affecting them

Or how crystals are proven to vibrate at different frequncies, giving them all different properties

He likes geeking out with those scientific thoughts

And he will hapilly rant about it with you till the sun comes up

He would also probably like to look in your books and journals, just to see what he can learn from them

He is a very naturally skeptical person, so expect him to occassionally point out things he thinks are stupid or wrong

But other than that he will enjoy reading through your notes and books

Insence makes him sneeze so be weary of that

And anything burning in general

He's got a very sensetive nose

[podcastenthusiast]

First part of a Astarion/Karlach thing I'm writing. Basically a little rewrite of some Act 3 scenes. Could become something bigger, who knows.

--

"Well, at least you've met my family now," Astarion says. "Pity. You and Violet would get on quite well. Haha."

His tone is light and dismissive, especially for a midnight familial attempted kidnapping. But there's a desperate edge to it, too, like he's worried she might finally see sense and run for the hills.

Karlach's never been accused of being sensible. If Astarion burning his brother in a sunbeam while his sister screamed didn't scare her off, this little evening interruption sure won't.

Karlach does hope she will have a chance to meet his siblings properly, once they're all free.

"I wouldn't've let them take you anywhere," she vows, chest heaving, still very much caught up in protective Mama K mode.

"I know. Deep breaths, darling."

Astarion still looks wary, as if he's expecting the other shoe to drop. She can't cool down, she realizes, not yet, because she's still angry.

Angry at him.

"You lied to them. About the ritual. Like it was easy."

He scoffs. "It was easy. They aren't exactly the brightest candles in the chandelier, you know."

"You're really gonna sacrifice your own brothers and sisters? Betray their trust in you like--like they're nothing." Like Gortash did, she thinks but doesn't say. There are some words you can't take back. She loves this pasty bastard too much to actually believe he'd go through with it, anyway.

"What does it matter? They're just my...colleagues in suffering. Expendable. Pathetic." Oh, Astarion's giving her the old monster routine, one of his thinner disguises. She can see the aelf-loathing clesrly beneath without even really trying. "And let's not forget they are vampire spawn. Hardly innocent."

"Fuck, Astarion, none of us are! You only give a shit about yourself, huh?"

"Why not? No one ever looked out for me. No one ever said a kind thing to me. You're the only one," he insists, getting a bit heated himself now. "Other people don't have a heart like you."

"Damn right, soldier," she replies quietly, tapping a fist against her engine as it ticks and whirs her numbered days away. The rage fades. "Sort of the problem, isn't it."

"I-- shit, Karlach, I didn't mean--"

There he is.

"Hey. It's all right."

It isn't, not really. Nothing is all right anymore. But they will be.

Karlach just can't be the only good thing he sees in this world. It's not fair to either of them. Gods only know how much more time she even has left, besides; Astarion shouldnt be alone, not after everything he's been through. She needs him to be okay without her, selfish as it is.

"Scares me when you talk like that," she admits. "Like other people are just things to you."

"I'm sorry, Karlach," he says, miserably. "I don't know if I can be anything else, here."

Karlach's mother always told her to never go to bed angry. After ten years in the Hells, it felt pointless and silly, but tonight with his siblings' blood staining the floor, she thinks she might understand the wisdom in that advice.

"C'mere, Fangs."

She opens her arms. Always gives him a choice; touch is complicated for both of them in a lot of ways. And, yeah, there's her cuddly Astarion after all. Must be exhausting pretending to something he's not all the time. Thought so since she met him that day by the river. All those masks and yet none seems to fit quite right. She knows the feeling, more or less.

"You're loved, you hear me?" she tells him. "So fucking loved."

His skin is a pleasant balm; hers is still smoldering a little. They don't let go.

"You make things so difficult," he complains softly against her collarbone, affectionate despite the actual words.

"Knew this wasn't gonna be easy. But I swear, tomorrow we'll kick Cazador's ass," she murmurs, holding him tighter. "I've got you."

"Ugh. Get a room, you two," Shadowheart grumbles from her bed.

They have a room, though. This room. The others will simply have to deal with that.

It's gonna be okay.

[luminnara]

Maneater | Billy Hargrove x demon!reader NSFW (18+ ONLY)

There’s a new girl in town…and she’s got a killer beauty routine.

AKA Billy x Jennifer’s Body style reader

Requests and commissions are open! 

@smenny @infinitelyforgotten @littlewinter1917 @djiafjaidjcj

Warnings: violence, cannibalism (sorta? Reader is a demon so technically not?) eating people lol, sexual talk, flirtin, smut

(I tried really hard to find a cropped version of this gif but I couldn’t 😩)

You always felt your best after a good night’s beauty sleep, your usual skincare routine, and devouring a boy or two. Sure, it was a little unorthodox, and it was the result of a virgin sacrifice gone wrong (seriously, how did those creepy band dudes think you were a virgin? Ouch), but it was your thing now, and you were totally owning it.

The best part? You wouldn’t have any problems finding fresh meat in your new home of Hawkins, Indiana, because you knew that no matter where you went, there were always going to be stupid, horny boys just begging for you to play around in their chest cavities. You could go just about anywhere and still be able to do your thing, and even though you were in the middle of buttfuck nowhere Indiana, you were excited to check out the locals. Maybe size them up.

Look for someone yummy.

It was a gorgeous spring morning, and you felt amazing. You felt like you could do anything, and you could—when you were full and happy, you were way more powerful than a normal human. Those shitty band guys may have been total idiots, but at least you got some cool new powers out of their silly little ritual. On the outside, you looked gorgeous, with clear, practically glowing skin, a charming smile, and bright eyes…but on the inside, you were a monster straight from hell.

And that didn’t bother you one bit.

Hawkins High was a small school. The parking lot wasn’t even paved. The junior high was right across the driveway. Despite the…quaintness of it all, however, everyone milling around by their cars looked like they all thought they were hot shit. There were groups of girls standing around, snapping their gum and twirling their hair as they gossiped. There were guys in letterman jackets, shoving each other around for fun. There was one boy with impressively nice hair, and one who screamed metal head trailer trash.

Some of them looked like their families had money. Some looked like they were from the wrong side of the tracks. Some were nerds, some were band geeks, some were desperately trying to fit in with the popular clique…they were all equal in your eyes, no matter how different they seemed. They were all fresh meat, and they probably all tasted just fine.

“Who the hell is that?” Carol asked, shoving Tommy aside to get a better look.

Her boyfriend stumbled slightly, irritated that she had cut him off just as he was finally getting handsy with her for the first time in two weeks. “Who?”

“Look, idiot,” Carol snapped.

She grabbed him by the jacket and forced him to turn. When he did, he saw that she was looking at someone he didn’t recognize—

Someone hot.

Someone real hot.

“Goddamn,” he breathed, his eyes glued to you as you sauntered through the lot. “Hargrove. Hey.”

Billy wasn’t listened. Instead, he was leaning against his Camaro as he lit a cigarette and tried to pretend that his ribs weren’t bruised. When Tommy grabbed at his shirt, he immediately stiffened and sneered, straightening up and catching the other boy’s arm.

“The hell is your problem?” He growled.

“Check out the new girl.”

Billy’s grip loosened slightly, teeth clenching around his cigarette as his eyes left Tommy. He found you way more interesting to focus on, anyways, and he was immediately interested.

He grinned, clapping Tommy’s shoulder as he straightened up and moved in your direction.

“Where’re you goin?” Tommy called after him.

“To give our new compatriot a friendly, Hawkins welcome,” Billy replied, a wild look in his eyes as he followed you through the front doors.

You stopped by the office for your schedule and locker number, playing nice and dumb with the secretary. You laughed whenever she did, you said thank you when you took your papers from her, and you gave her a charming smile that you knew would win anybody over. If she was any indicator, Hawkins would be even easier to settle into than you thought.

When you stepped out the door, you nearly ran face first into someone.

Someone who smelled delicious.

“Oh, sorry,” you immediately turned on the charm as your eyes traveled up his broad chest. When they settled on his face, you were surprised to see that he was absolutely gorgeous…and something in his gaze sent a little shiver up your spine.

“No need to apologize, sweetheart,” he smirked. “Name’s Billy.”

You could tell he was checking you out. Boys always did, especially when you were feeling well fed and full of yourself. There was some sort of magnetic pull that drew them in, like the sweet smell of a carnivorous plant beckoning insects forward. Billy definitely wasn’t an insect…but he might make a nice meal nonetheless.

You bit your lower lip and batted your lashes at him. “Wanna show me around, Billy? I don’t know where my new locker is…”

Billy wanted to laugh.

Did you think he was stupid? He knew his way around flirting. He was the king of playing nice to get what he wanted, whether it be slipping into someone’s pants or getting information. Billy could tell that you were pretending to be sugary and sweet with him…but what were you hiding underneath this practically otherworldly exterior?

You were a lot more interesting than he had originally thought, apparently. 

“Yeah, I’ll show you around, sweetheart.” He winked.

“Thank you, handsome,” you said, your voice dripping with honey.

It was obvious that he wanted to get in your pants. You knew boys well enough to know that much. He was being sweet and charming to get what he wanted, kind of like you did…and you figured that would make him a nice and easy target.

You walked down the hall with him, looking up at his face and studying what you could see. He had a nice, strong jaw, and thick, curly hair cut into a mullet. His eyes were the brightest blue you’d ever seen, and as he watched rest of the student body, you noticed that they were incredibly observant.

Like a hawk looking for fat little rabbits.

“So where’re you from, sweetheart?” He drawled boredly, as if small talk wasn’t his thing at all.

“…a little town called Devil’s Kettle. You probably haven’t heard of it.” You shrugged, determined to show him that small talk absolutely was your thing. “I like Hawkins a lot more.”

Rather than go along with you, Billy rolled his eyes.

He actually rolled his eyes.

At you.

A demon.

You were a little taken aback, to say the least. Your natural, passive charm was enough to keep any human nice and quiet and complacent until it was time to turn it off and enjoy their terror. So why did Billy have such an attitude with you still?

“You don’t have to flatter me. There’s nothing good about this shit hole.” He said. “Well…‘Cept you, of course.”

Your eyes narrowed slightly. Alright, then. This guy had an attitude, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. He still smelled and looked delicious, and you had a few more days to figure him out before you needed to feed again. Ever since that ritual left you this way, you’d found yourself enjoying playing with your food…and Billy was no exception.

“Thank you so much for your help,” you said, laying it on thick as you stopped next to your locker.

Your hand found its way to his chest, a move that always had boys rolling over for you. Billy looked down at it and smirked, an absolutely beautiful sight, before his eyes trailed back up to yours.

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Anytime, princess.” He said, his voice smooth, its timbre sending a rush straight down between your thighs.

And then, he was gone, melting back into the crowded hallway, leaving alone to figure out what the hell just happened.

———————

“What the hell is she doing?” Carol asked haughtily.

Vicky wrinkled her nose. “Walking with Billy to his car.”

Carol let out a disgusted sound and turned away, determined not to show her jealousy. You’d only been in Hawkins for what, one day? Twenty four hours, at most? And Billy Hargrove was already giving you a ride home?

Ridiculous.

Tommy H just smirked. “Nice one, Hargrove!” He called out as he leaned against his car.

Carol glared at him.

You heard his shout and turned to look toward its source. You were still confused about Billy…but that moron looked like he might be a good snack in a day or two.

You gave him a wink, watching as his girlfriend fumed next to him.

“You’ve got nice friends.” You commented as Billy opened the passenger door and waited for you to sit down.

“…yeah. Nice.” He snorted, slamming it closed before walking around to his side and getting in.

“How long have you been in Hawkins?” You asked, studying your nails as the Camaro roared to life.

Okay, so you liked his car. Maybe you could steal it after you ate him…? No, that would be way too obvious in a town like this. Everybody would know you had something to do with his disappearance.

Damn.

“Six months. Somethin’ like that.” He said absentmindedly as he backed out of his space. “Why’s that matter, princess?”

You shrugged. “You don’t look like everybody else here.”

You don’t smell like everybody else here.

He grinned in what might have been triumph. “That’s a fucking relief.”

“You definitely don’t look like a local...” you purred, your fingers gliding up his arm. You gave his bicep a squeeze through his jacket and saw him lick his lips from the corner of your eye, and you knew you were getting somewhere. 

Okay. This was okay. You could totally have some fun with him, shove all those weird feelings aside, and then do your thing and devour his innards like a good little demon. No more second guessing yourself, though. Time to be a big, confident succubus. 

“Can we go somewhere...private, handsome?” you asked, voice dripping with that golden honey as you leaned against him. 

“Your place or mine, sweetheart?” he grinned down at you. 

“...Yours.” you decided. Today was about having fun and celebrating your move. Next time, you’d take him back to your new house and tear him to shreds.

For sure you would. 

For real. 

Never mind how genuinely cute you found him. You were gonna wreck this guy, in more ways than one. 

You could tell that Billy was excited at the prospect of getting laid. You could smell it rolling off of him in waves, and for you, those pheromones were like a drug. They made you feel happy and floaty, your chest buzzing as he squeezed your thigh and put the pedal to the metal. 

“You always drive like this?” you asked, laughing loudly over the sound of the radio and the wind whipping through the open windows. 

Billy glanced over to see you smiling, and he grinned. “You like it, sweetheart?”

“I love it!” you replied without thinking about your cool demon persona for once. 

Billy’s grin just grew wider and he floored it, tearing down the quiet highway towards his place.

His house was small and simple, decorated conservatively in a way that told you his folks weren’t very much fun. He didn’t give you much time to take it all in, though, quickly ushering you down the hall and into his room before you could make yourself at home.

“You in a rush?” you quipped. 

“Can you blame me for being eager?” he smirked as he shut the door. 

No. You really couldn’t.

Being alone in a room with Billy Hargrove felt special. So many girls at Hawkins High would probably kill for the chance to cozy up with him like this, and yet there you were, on your very first day in town, climbing on top of him like you owned his soul. 

Wait...was that an option? Could you do that? It might be a nicer option than eating him at this point, because honestly...you were starting to think you should keep him around for a little longer than originally planned. Like, for real…it took a lot to satisfy a demon like yourself, and somehow, Billy Hargrove was managing to do it.

Maybe it was because in bed, he absolutely dripped sin and sex appeal. His hands? Killer. His dick? Perfect. His mouth?

Godly.

“F-fuck!” You gasped, mouth agape, eyes wide as you gripped his hair and pulled hard.

He grunted against you, looking up from his place between your thighs. Fuck, he was glad you wore a skirt, because the second he got you in his room, he was tossing you down on his bed and diving right in. If he had to fuck around with jeans or some bullshit like that, he’d have been seriously pissed off.

Instead, all he had to do was grab your hips, pull your panties to the side, and let your moans serenade him as he showed you how fucking good he was with his tongue.

Normally, he’d be the one guiding your head right now, not the other way around. He’d be quick and demanding, get his kicks, make you finish with his fingers or something, and then get outta there. That’s what he always did with girls, and it was always fast and fun. Hollow, in a way, but fun. With you, though…with you, he was determined to savor everything, because you tasted delicious in a way he’d never experienced before, and he couldn’t get enough.

“Billy…” you moaned, grinding your hips against his face as you felt yourself getting close again. Perks of being a demon, you guessed…lots and lots of orgasms.

He was lapping it all up like it was ambrosia, eyes trained on you obediently.

He had really, really beautiful eyes, and as you gazed into them, you came again.

“O-okay,” you huffed, thighs shaking as you yanked his head back. “That’s enough.”

You felt him resist, trying to get one last taste, but you were stronger than you looked.

And you also had an appetite that needed to be sated.

“Your turn, big boy,” you purred, switching your positions.

Billy was more than happy to recline and watch as you unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans. As much as he wanted you to sit on his face for a few hours, he was eager to find out if the rest of you was just as sweet.

You were just happy to see that his dick matched the rest of him.

There was no point in trying to hide your glee as you freed him from the confines of his tight jeans, and you immediately wrapped a hand around his shaft and your lips around his head. He shuddered at the feeling of your mouth on him, a hand coming to rest on the back of your head as he made a move to guide you. You didn’t need him to, but you let him pretend he had some semblance of control as you bobbed up and down, and honestly? It was pretty cute that he thought he was in charge.

His cock slipped deeper into your throat, until your nose was brushing his pelvis. You were surrounded by his scent, that natural, musky smell and—cologne? Did he put cologne down there? Yeah, that was kinda cute—and it made you hungrier.

When you leaned back, he tried to follow you, searching for that warmth again…but when you pushed him down against his own mattress and sank down onto his cock, his eyes widened.

“No rubber?” He asked.

You just smiled and leaned down, hands on his chest as you licked the side of his face. “Don’t worry about it, baby.”

Fuck, you were perfect.

And you were weirdly warm.

“Fuck, baby…” he groaned, hands squeezing your ass as you rode him.

You felt fucking perfect, and he knew he was gonna have to come back for seconds, something he almost never did in Hawkins.

Because Billy Hargrove was hooked on you…and when you watched his face as he came, you realized you were a little hooked on him, too.

Shit.

He was too cute to eat.

“So.” He said as you rolled to the side, catching your breath. “What’s your deal?”

“My deal?” You asked, eyes flicking toward him.

He lit a cigarette. “There’s somethin’ up with you, babe. Knew it from the second we talked this morning.”

You floundered, staring at him. What did he mean? Guys never guessed that you were anything other than hot. Nobody had ever suspected that there was something supernatural about you, not even your best friends back in Devil’s Kettle.

“I don’t normally do this whole…talking thing.” Billy said. “But you’ve got me intrigued, princess. So what’s the deal?”

“I have no idea what you’re—“

“Cut the shit,” he growled, surprising you again with how easily he fought through your natural defenses. “You’re hiding something. I can tell.”

“Did you fuck me just to grill me?” You asked in irritation.

“Nah. That was just a bonus.” He grinned, reaching down to brush his fingers over your swollen clit. When you immediately flinched, he laughed. “You sure are sensitive, babe…”

You rolled your eyes and sat up. “I don’t know why you think something’s up, but I don’t appreciate it, Hargrove.”

He raised his lip in a sneer. “Fine. Don’t tell me. But I’ll figure you out eventually, sweetheart.”

You just narrowed your eyes.

——————

Billy’s suspicions weren’t enough to keep you from hanging around him. You liked the resident bad boy, even though his friends were annoying, and he seemed to enjoy keeping and arm slung around your shoulders in public. For a few days, everything was fine…until you felt yourself starting to fade, and you knew it was time for a snack.

It was easy enough to pick a boy out of the crowd, some senior whose name you didn’t bother to learn. When Billy was busy with sports, you chose your victim and whispered in his ear, leading him out of the building, across the parking lot, and into the woods. He thought he was about to get lucky; after all, rumors had begun flying about how easy you were, after everybody saw Billy Hargrove giving you a ride on your very first day in town. This guy probably thought he was about to get a once in a lifetime opportunity with the hottest girl in town.

“Don’t count on it,” you grinned dangerously before shoving him back against a tree trunk.

You watched his expression change from confusion to horror as your jaw unhinged and your teeth elongated, ready to sink into his flesh and tear him apart. As soon as you made contact, you flew into a frenzy, ripping his rib cage open with your hands and digging in.

Delicious, as always.

As you tore chunks out of his chest cavity, you thought about Billy. You imagined the feeling of his hands on you, squeezing your thighs and your hips…you could picture his face looking down at you, cheeks flushed and lips parted, and those gorgeous blue eyes…

Your fantasy was interrupted by a sudden pain in your torso, and when you looked down, you saw that your victim had managed to shove a huge, sharp tree branch straight through you.

“Ouch.” You said.

You coughed up some blood.

“That’s what I get for being distracted at dinner, huh?”

You heard the boy gasping, desperately clinging to life even with his organs out on display. Well, this wasn’t really how you thought this would go…and shit, it was really starting to hurt.

With one last chomp that finally silenced your victim, you let his body fall to the ground and stumbled back. You were in worse shape than you thought, and your little house out in the woods was pretty fucking far away. You needed somewhere safe to go in the meantime, somewhere you could curl up and wait for your body to heal itself.

By the time you limped up to Billy’s window, night had fallen…but his light was still on, and with any luck, he was alone and free of other girls. You really didn’t have it in you to tear someone else apart, not while you were in this state. You shuffled up to the window sill, gripping it with bloody hands and thumping against it weakly.

Billy immediately stiffened.

He was fresh out of the shower, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. He had been considering jerking off to the thought of you before bed, but now, the sound of something outside had him on high alert. He’d already been stressed thanks to his father yelling at the dinner table earlier, and the last thing he needed was some weird bullshit to deal with.

Unfortunately, when he opened his window, that’s exactly what he got.

“What--the fuck--” he stammered, eyes wide as you tumbled in and landed in a bloody heap on his floor. 

“H-hey,” you panted, chest heaving with effort as you pulled yourself into a more comfortable position. 

Billy just stared. 

“I--I know this looks crazy,” you said, grunting in pain when you managed to sit up against his bed. “I just need to rest here--”

“What are you?” he interrupted. 

“I don’t know what you--”

“I told you to cut the shit the other day.” he growled. “Now I really fucking mean it, princess.”

You looked up at him, still breathing hard. “...You have to swear not to freak out.”

“Try me.”

“So...back in Devil’s Kettle, there’s this weird waterfall. Some guys offered me up to Satan on a platter, I guess, and then tossed me down...only their ritual didn’t work. And now I’m...like this.” you gestured to yourself. 

Billy was taking things surprisingly well. “Like what?”

“Like...a demon.”

You watched his face closely, waiting for the inevitable. Waiting for the panic. 

It didn’t come, though. Honestly, Billy didn’t even know why he wasn’t totally losing it, especially given the state you were in--covered in blood, a huge wound in the middle of your stomach--but as he sat down across from you, he barely felt anxious. 

“So...what’s with the blood?” he asked, reaching for a smoke. 

“...Okay, now you really can’t freak out.”

“Fine, sweetheart.”

“I just...had dinner, and dinner...fought back.”

He raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t press further...so you spared him the details, lest he end up having a weaker stomach than he pretended to. “I just need a couple hours to heal and then I’ll be gone. Swear.”

“Neil and Susan are still gone. Max is in bed.” he said as he calmly lit a cigarette. “Go shower before you get that shit all over my stuff.”

You blinked. “You’re really not...weirded out by all this?”

“I told you I knew something was up with you.” he smirked. “Didn’t know it was this weird, but I still fucking knew.”

You let out a breathy little laugh at that and tried to stand. When your knees buckled, Billy caught you with one arm, choosing to haul you to the bathroom himself. And then, he joined you, because even though it was probably the strangest situation he’d ever been in, you were still you, and you were still hot, an even if you were a demon, you were kinda his demon now...and he wasn’t gonna pass up the chance to shower with you.

[fairytsuk1]

Incubus aizawa????

in hindsight, it was a joke! something silly, something that wasn't actually meant to come to fruition!

your friends had come to you, eager smiles and mischievous thoughts as the exclaimed that the legendary "Aizawa" would only present himself on the days leading up to Halloween and you had to do the ritual.

"are you sure?" you feel anxiety thrumming in your neck as you stared at the supposed picture of the Incubus... he was pretty attractive.

huge muscles with wispy hair that gave him such a manly aura, horns that stuck like mountains out his head and black hair that was luscious in nature but you reckoned could wrap around you like snakes.

he shouldn't be hot, but he looks exactly your type and it's been a bit of a dry spell lately...

"yes, you just have to say it! he's totally your type right?" kimiko explains excitedly, sleepover pajamas pink and cute as she gets in your face, "you wanna fuck him right?"

embarrassment burns in your core as you sit in the middle facing the framed photo of Aizawa; clad in your own thigh-high socks. apparently he liked those, he sounded like a pervert to you.

"oh my god, just shut up so I can do the ritual!"

and then you shift anxiously before beginning to murmur, growing to a chant.

"my daemon Aizawa, i give myself up to you. I want you to devour me whole, and if I shall not please you..." your minds blanks and there's a helpful whisper from toga, "you may feed me to your beloved three-headed cat, insomnia."

and nothing happens.

"i told you it was stupid! it was never gonna work!"

sighs of disappointment ring out around the circle of girls, and none of you can hear the heavy steps of a daemon making his way through your apartment with tired eyes and donning an all-black outfit.

you're sleeping soundly, and you're still wearing his favorite outfit. normally, well, more like rarely; aizawa liked to feed these weak little mortals to his cat and call it a day.

dare he say it, you were too cute to be eaten. and so you awoke with a heavy feeling on your chest and slick dripping between your legs.

"you give yourself up for me? you're a dedicated one, huh? and i'm a pervert? that's a bit mean."

you can hardly breathe and you're not even sure you want to with the mass whose shoulder come out of your chest ghostly, "wha? wha's goin' on? are you...!"

and then he's rising, fog coming off him in billows of clouds that dose the room in a heavy haze. he's intoxicating, and you feel yourself mewl as he climbs out of your body and looks down at you.

you were right, hair as black as coals that could strangle you at any moment. but he doesn't kill you, he just grins.

"giving yourself up to me is a huge sacrifice."

"i didn't!"

"oh, but you did, my love. you did when you wore..." he snaps the band of your socks, "these. and when you said that chant of course. i was going to take your body the minute it happened."

his hand, cold and veiny wraps itself around your throat as his grin grows even wider, "and one more thing."

"daemon is too aged. call me daddy, and i'll make you cum so hard you'll think you're dead. okay?"

against your better judgement, you nod.

"good. now, let's see what's under these pretty panties hm?"

and you give yourself up wholly to him once again, you just hope he leaves your soul alone after he's done with you.

[bonefall]

do your cats have any sort of fun little fortune-telling methods? not proper divination, more like how humans have magic 8 balls or those folded paper fortune tellers

Generally, these are frowned upon! You have to keep these relatively harmless fortunetelling methods on the downlow, else you might get a lecture about how StarClan does not approve of "misinterpretation of their will." It's like witchcraft.

But kittens especially love silly little rituals just as much as they love blasphemy so, here's a couple popular ones. Adults sometimes do these too, but quietly!

DANDELION RUNNING

Find a big dandelion puffball, one with the seeds dry and loose. Pluck it from the ground, hold it in your teeth, and RUN AS FAST AS YOU CAN! At the end, observe the seeds that still cling to the puff.

That's how many kittens you will have someday. Apprentices who are mutually crushing like to do this together to see if their number matches up.

PUFFBALL SMACKING

This one is mostly a ShadowClan tradition because they are the most morbid. You find a juuuust barely ripe puffball, gather around, and you give it a slap. Gentle! Every slap you get is a lucky moon you will have.

But if you hit it and it pops, that means BAD luck for every slap you got in.

So obviously the apprentices like to gather around and take slap-turns, and saddle the unlucky popper with all the bad luck of the session.

SEEDMATCH

This is the closest thing to a card reading or those little fold-up stars they have. It's about seeds, obviously.

First, you get a bowl of some kind. That can be a big leaf, or clay, or maybe even a turtle shell if you've caught an invasive slider or terrapin. Toss in 12 pairs of seeds (called "pods" in Clanmew) for a total of 24, the same amount of whiskers on a cat's face.

The seeds are mixed until randomized. Then the the Speaker and the Spoken both close their eyes and pluck 6 seeds. The Spoken places their seeds down, one at a time, in a row. The Speaker checks the seeds they plucked, and either declares no matches, or places down the match.

The 12 seeds are traditional. Each pair is the same species, and has a meaning;

Poppy = Rest, physical injury, sleep

Apple = Risk and reward

Plum core (the endocarp within the pit) = Death or redemption (ShadowClan INSISTS these must come from damsons specifically)

Dandelion = Freedom, change, metamorphosis

Fennel = Health, wellness, illness

Flax = Breakthroughs, ingenuity, interruptions

Gorse = Effort, perseverance, the threat of hard work being undone

Bull Thistle = Ambition, opportunity, seizing the moment (prra-ness)

Borage = Love, fertility, sacrifice

Field Rose = Protection, defense, guarding, driving loved ones away

Bluebell = Gains and losses

Coltsfoot (though some house rules require a speaker to provide their own personal species of seed) = Eccentricity, trust in yourself and others, releasing inhibition

There are of course, three possible outcomes when the Spoken places their seed:

NO MATCH: a good sign, positivity of the symbolism.

MATCH: a bad sign, negativity of the symbolism.

SPOKEN PICKED TWO OF THE SAME SEED: a warning, a call to be careful because fate is still unwritten.

From the order of how the seeds were placed down, a narrative forms, much like a book. The Speaker tells a story about it, trusting their heart to place the right words in their mouth.

This practice is kept alive by Clerics, but persists as a game in private and at Aftergatherings.

[solticeenery]

I have this crazy headcanon that (maybe) completely ignores all rules and canon characters of this universe, but what if (it always starts with these words) Lucy found a way to bring Skull back to the living world. Some kind of incredibly dangerous and risky but promising ritual. Something with giving part of your life to the Other Side and you can't decide how much, it should be some other ghost who stands between two worlds and accepts the deal. Something maybe with blood, almost unaliving themselves and very complicated sigils. Some kind of risky dangerous shit so the Skull could mock Lucy for being a brainless idiot because "what were you thinking, you could f*cking die, Carlyle!"

So Lucy finds this ritual, successfully finishes it (even without any terrible injuries) and when the dealer comes she sees... Jessica. It's Jessica Lockwood. She looks at Lucy, asks, why she is doing all that stuff, and nods. "I'll take one minute from your life. That's the least I am allowed to take. Be happy, little star, guide them through their journey, they both need you." And disappears. Lucy wakes up in real world again, sees Skull already back in his body and staring at her with all judgement and anger and sharp words he ever tried to hold back from saying. And then the sun reaches Skull's face and he stays there, doesn't evaporate from any tiniest amount of light. And he is confused and kinda happy but angry at the same time because he knows this ritual and he was scared to death that Lucy might die during it. And Lucy is just happy. Exhausted, but happy. She finally can punch Skull for silly comments, shut his mouth whenever he tries to tell any dirty joke or hug him (at least try to, he isn't really comfortable with it yet) after difficult cases.

And the type of bond created between these two is something like siblings-mentors-lovers. They are definitely more than simply friends or colleagues. They teach eachother day by day. They are important to eachother. They both are ready to sacrifice everything for eachother and whatever the other one wants to protect. So for example Skull is ready to sacrifice the whole world to save Lockwood because he is important for Luce. And the same for her, she is ready to sacrifice the whole universe if needed.

Noone in "Lockwood & Co." can understand this bond and Lucy and Skull can't explain it. It's something so deep and warm with so much trust and comfort behind it, that it's impossible to put in words.

Of course Lockwood was jealous at first. He was doing his best to keep his feelings in secret. But then Skull just dares Lockwood to confess these feelings to Lucy. Smiling reassuringly and promising that everything will be alright. Skull loves Lucy more than anything and wants her to be happy. And he knows that these two children will be happy together. And he will be happy just being somewhere nearby. Being a part of this little but loving found family. Being alive again. Being someone important. Finally being his true self for the first time in two lifes.

Sorry not sorry, I'm sobbing because this lives rent-free in my head and idc if it's ooc, I'm too emotional atm

[druidessgeek]

Doric x female Druid reader

I know it sounds silly to have Druid with another Druid but hear me out. Doric played a more martial and offensive role in combat. The way I’m imagining a Druid reader is more in the support role that you have the option to be in game. Definitely Keyleth vibes but not outright. She hangs back, preferring to use her healing and buffing spells to help the party win the fight. Anyway, I originally wrote this really angsty but didn’t want my first fanfic posted for others to possibly read to be angst. No shade on angst writers I just didn’t want that to be my start

- [ ] Takes her a bit to warm up to you. She is worried she’ll say something stupid or sound like the inexperienced Druid she is.

- [ ] You catch her staring at you a lot though, and she tries to look away from you when you catch the tiefling’s gaze so after a long fight with a warlock trying to sacrifice innocents to his god, you finally sit next to her in front of the camp fire after catching her gaze on you.

- [ ] She is internally screaming when you start inspecting her injuries and casting a quick cure wounds on her scrapes.

- [ ] She confides in you after this. “I never learned much magic. You must think me a bad Druid.”

- [ ] You tell her that it doesn’t make her any less a Druid. That everyone has a role to play. Just because you chose the path of the healer, the nurturer, the caretaker, doesn’t make her path less valid

- [ ] “Any Druid who can take out a red mage while wild shaped is doing great at her vocation, love. Trust the process. Your time on this plane is far from over.”

- [ ] This makes the tiefling blush. You then make it a goal to see her blush at least once a day

- [ ] She asks you to teach her what the rangers couldn’t. Their knowledge of magic is respectable but no formal ritual, she knows even being good with wild shaping and a quick polymorph has left her behind in her Druidic knowledge.

- [ ] Her first lesson begins that night. She learns her first healing spell, which she then uses on a black eye you hadn’t noticed on yourself, touching it tenderly as tendrils of light soothe the inflamed bruise.

- [ ] You two are as thick as thieves after that. She comes with you when you go foraging on your travels. She can already identify most plants in the woods but some of them aren’t for food.

- [ ] You show her how to turn poisonous plants and fungus into potions to coat rocks for her sling. And you teach her how to make healing potions.

- [ ] You start noticing little flowers being left upon your things. Flowers she notices you cooing at gently under the canopy. Daffodils and bee balm in the spring. Goldenrod in the summer

- [ ] You weave them into little crowns and wreaths that you wear on your head and as bracelets, much to your fellow Druid’s poorly concealed excitement. She has to keep herself from picking every flower in the woods.

- [ ] The best part are the bees and butterflies that seem to surround you in almost a halo, sampling the nectars of the flowers, landing on your nose, and Doric, staring at you like you’re the goddess of nature herself.

- [ ] She has to keep herself from kissing you when you tell off an ignorant duke for assuming Doric evil. You even shield her from his judging gaze, returning it upon him and shaming him in front of the whole court for his willful ignorance.

- [ ] “If she’s evil for having horns and a tail, what’s that make you, my lord, for having none of this? Do they not have mirrors in your kingdom?”

- [ ] No one’s ever defended her like this. And it gives her hope. Maybe not all humans are awful. At least, not her human.

- [ ] She stays up with you on watches staring up at the stars while the others rest. She gives herself so little credit in her Druidic abilities but the way she looks up at the stars captivates you. Each constellation a unique personality, each star a close friend.

- [ ] You share your first kiss beneath those stars. She just can’t help it when she looks back down to earth and sees the most beautiful woman staring back at her like nothing else on the planet matters. She cradles your face in her hands and kisses you so gently, so tenderly that the sound of moth’s wings could have been louder.

- [ ] You’re both startled from your romance when you hear Edgin, wide awake and sarcastic as always. “It’s about time.”