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mushabumi · 1 year

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"The Lich and the Witch"

18+ Monster romance. 2053 words. Smut, romantic, and a shy Lich King.

“The Lich King”

She was never afraid of the things that crawl in the woods at night. The clacking of claws and whisper of behemoth wings in flight was a comfort to her. The villagers barred their doors and windows when the beasts prowled speckled in starlight, but what they didn’t know was that they were under His protection. She knew, though she’d never met the elusive Lich King that ruled this area, nor would she explain the true nature of the beasts that patrol at night. She simply let them believe she was the consort of darkness and bathed in moonlight each month. Sometimes she did. Moonlight did wonders for the skin. As for consorting with any darkness, there have never been the opportunity. Though she wouldn’t be averse to the idea.

All of these thoughts meandered through her on her walk. She needed ingredients for her commissioned potions and elixirs. The path was always droll, though she was thankful for its familiarity. She entered the gates of the forgotten cemetery and strode through the briarwood vines with a languid hand held aloft to brush them away. They parted with a sigh as an old lover trapped in memories of what was. It always made her smile when the plants talked to her. She had a gift for manipulating them, and often they were her truest companions throughout her life.

Down she went through the ancient stone steps leading to the entrance of the labyrinth. She saluted to the gargoyles standing vigil at the doorway and pressed a hand to the stone doors. She whispered an incantation and runic script bloomed beneath her palm in a pale periwinkle light. It arched along the hidden doorway, blinking as the stone parted. She slipped inside and with a blink, her eyes illuminated in the dark as a cat’s. It was clear as day for her. She gripped her basket and marched forward. The moss shifted away for her as she walked.

Little did she know that she was being watched.

She continued, humming a song her mother once did, in a language her grandmother spoke. She crouched every once in a while, to collect the mushrooms huddled in corners. They glowed as she touched them. She never noticed the icy chill that crept toward her, or the way the shadows became deeper; knitting together in a dense fog. It grew closer, tendrils of darkness stretching for her and stopping just out of reach. They shrank, bashful and forlorn. So he spoke instead.

“Is it a habit of yours to sing in the dark?” His voice whispered through her, reverberating in the darkness and enveloping her in a shroud.

She shivered, huffing out some of the warmth pooling in her belly. “Is it habit of yours creep around unarmed women?”

“And who’s fault is that? You were the one who left the safety of your hearth, knowing the things that prowl in the night. And on a full moon? Surely you’ve more sense than that.” Deep, resonant whispers echoed off the walls. A single tendril of darkness curled at the nape of her neck. “Am I to believe a woman such as you needs a weapon the be dangerous?” A sonorous laugh boomed, echoing in her ribcage. The tendril inched lower down her spine before retreating. “Surely you can do better at attempting to deceive one as ancient as I,” the voice enshrouded her, tickling her skin; soft as velvet.

“Ancient you say? Is your body withered among the roots and rocks, then? Long forgotten?” She said with a straightened spine as her eyes flicked toward the amalgamation of darkness. Her eyes slitted, calculating, before she lunged.

A gasp echoed off the walls as she held a limb of darkness. It was cool to the touch, velvet soft and utterly pliant in her grasp. Though she knew the strength and destruction it could wield.

“Or are you too much of a coward to face me fully?” She asked with an imperious tilt of her chin.

Darkness coalesced before her and grew, towering above her and melting away to reveal a bone-white creature. He was naked from the waist up and had a flowing black cloth draped around his hips. Plates of bone covered his black torso as a natural armor, mimicking the curves of muscle beneath. A circlet of bone crowned his head and flared to each side of his head as fused wings. It completely covered half of his face, leaving his pale cheekbones, and chin peeking from underneath. His lips were full and scowling at her.

He rolled his shoulders and flexed the black talons of his fingers and tilted his head with an unspoken question. He waited. They always ran at this point. Without fail.

“Hmm,” she hummed and surveyed him, dutifully ignoring the urge to close her fingers around his throat and push him against the wall. She reached her index finger up to his chest and gently pushed. “You’re about to step on them. Can you move, please?” She pointed to the patch of mushrooms inches from his feet.

He shuffled away, revealing an enormous muscled thigh under the cloth at his hips. She licked her lips and looked away. He loomed behind her as the stone gargoyles outside and she couldn’t bear it any longer. She cleared her throat and held her basket out to him. “Might as well make yourself useful… your highness? My liege? What do I call you?”

She could have sworn a blush bloomed under his bony headdress when he said “Phandros. I am the current Lich King of this domain,” he spoke gently as he grabbed the basket.

She crouched down and began harvesting. “I see. Nice to meet you.”

A palm sheathed in shadow appeared before her, waiting. She grabbed it, stifling a gasp as it helped her up with ease. His long fingers brushed against the pulse in her wrist as they closed around her hand. They were sharp, pausing at her pulse. The scraped against it reverently before releasing her.

He did not speak, but simply watched her with a curious tilt of his horned head.

“Are you … waiting for something? Someone?” She huffed a laugh. “Or deciding how you will eat me tonight? Sauteed with a pat of butter and garlic should do nicely.” She patted his gauntleted forearm and moved away.

He snatched her hand with lightning speed, imperceptible to the eye and held it with delicate grace. “I am waiting for you to run away; to scream or to fight me. But you haven’t. Why?”

She dropped the mushrooms in the forgotten basket at his feet with her free hand and looked up at him. “Because I’ve read about you. I know the story of the prince that bargained with the evil Lich to keep the winter horde at bay. The one who traded his mortal life to save the starving people of his realm. The same one who locked himself away from his people’s great-great-grandchildren and their pitchforks and raids. The one that learnt to command the night to protect his realm from the horde of demons that preyed on this land on their way to the realm between worlds. To me, he is not one to fear. To me, the humans that forgot his sacrifice and betrayed his kindness are the ones to run from. They are the ones to hide away and shield myself from their wrath. Not you. Not ever you or your kind.” She both her hands around his and squeezed gently. Just once, before turning away.

She felt tendrils of shadow cup her chin and turn her back toward him. She didn’t shrink away as he reached a hand to cup her face, nor when he moved a breath away from her. Slowly, he stroked her cheek. “Will you not tell me your name?”

“Does it matter?”

“I wish to know what name to say as you become undone above me.”

She slammed her hand against his chest, the other to his throat and shoved him against the ancient stone. He picked up as she caged him with her thighs and bit his lip. He licked her bottom lip and sucked as her hand tightened around his throat. He gasped as she writhed against him. Tendrils of smoke whispered around her. Brushing the shell of her ear, her neck. Trailing up her thighs and whispering at around her breasts all as he kissed her with barely restrained hunger.

“Hold on,” he ordered and held her tight. The blinked away in a shroud of night and appeared in a suite at the top of a tower. It overlooked the entire valley with glass panes covering the back wall. Black smoke meandered around the glass as if waiting to be let free.

He placed her gently on her feet and took a step back. “Are you sure?” He watched her. Trepidation and dread pursing his lips. Surely she would run now. Soon. Why hasn’t she already?

She sighed and regarded him as one did a particularly slow child while explaining the rules of the universe. “I want you,” she stepped closer, “on your knees.” She grabbed his wrist and tugged him toward the bed before she sat on its edge. She nodded in front of her and waited for him to kneel before reaching down to trail a finger along the planes of his cheek. She stopped, wickedly, at the corner of his lips. “I want you to scream your name until the sun rises. And again tomorrow. And the day after. Then will you believe that I shall not run?” She draped her finger across his bottom lip before his tongue slip out and curved around it and enveloped it into his mouth. As he sucked, the tendrils of night snaked around her body, mimicking the movements of his tongue. Her clothes faded into shadow as the tendrils embraced her. She gasped, gripping his horns in a vice as they curved around her breasts and thighs. They glided against her, teasing closer to her nipples and gently gripping as he sucked her finger. He smiled at her moan and leaned forward. Brushing his hands against the back of her knees he watched as a shadow flicked to the apex of her thighs in slow, agonizing circles. Another smile as the other flicked her nipples and retreated. He kissed a trail up her thighs as a shadow foretold the path his tongue would follow against her folds. She was nothing but deep, breathy moans as he lazily worked his way closer to his goal. Finally, a tendril pushed inside her as he gently pushed her against the bed and draped her feet on his shoulders. The shadow pulsed inside of her and grew as she moaned. It formed to the thickness she needed to prepare for, slowly stretching her as it pulsed inside of her. He finally licked his way the bundle of nerves and thrusted his phantom limb inside of her. He ignored his own hardness and hummed against her clit, relishing the sounds escaping her. He kneaded and thrusted until she was sure to be sore the next day and she became incoherent. Only then did he grip himself with his hands and stroked his length in tandem with all of his limbs. His rhythm became merciless. He felt her shudder against him and he reached for her hair and pulled. A scream erupted. He sucked her clit in a brutal rhythm and slid another tendril to her ass. He felt her tighten around him as she felt the velvet wetness of a tongue slide into her from behind. He pulled her hair with another thrust into each of her openings and held her as she released. He soothed her hair and back as she came, easing her onto his chest.

He waited until her breathing evened and gently laid her on the pillows. She looked shy as he stroked her cheek and held her against him.

“Phandros? Are you… what about you?”

He eased his eyes close and whispered, “say it again.”

“Phandros?”

He kissed her softly as if he had millennia to memorize her. “Hearing my name on your lips is reward enough. Sleep, for there is always tomorrow.”

#monster lover #monster smut #monster romance #monster fudger #lich and witch #nsft #exophelia #monster enthusiast #alternate lich #not edited #maybe a series #maybe with fluff #smut #original fiction #monster boyfriend #monster fluff #monster x human #terato #wholesome monster

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heyitschartic · 6 months

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Okay I have been sitting on this story idea forever and there's no way I'm ever writing it so it's going here. God, I hope I haven't posted about this before.

A great friend Lao and I discussed for a long time a concept where, almost immediately after she triggers, Bonesaw gets summoned to Azeroth. An attempt by the Scourge to try and pull things from outside the Twisting Nether in Scholomance, the reasoning doesn't really matter too much. Six year old Riley finds herself killed and raised, thrown into the Scourge as just another expendable foot soldier.

For two years that's how she lives, a mindless zombie bowed to the will of the Lich King. And then Sylvanas' uprising happens. Freed from his control, she finds herself one of the thousands of Undead listless and lost, a child that is still overcome with the trauma of what she'd been put though. The Bonesaw persona is not so much a mask as a blanket, an act meant to keep her safe and hide from the horrors of her past.

She pledges herself to the Royal Apothecary Society. Within a year, she's made head of it.

She grows close to Sylvanas and some of the other Forsaken in the organization. Children are rare, most died young or were used in experiments, and so she really stands out. Her abominations and plagues are technological marvels and she grows closer to Sylvanas in a way the older woman would never admit is motherly.

Wrath of the Lich King happens. They invade Northrend and instead of Putress taking command, it's Riley. He still tries his double cross, but this time it fails and the plague that drops leaves the heroes of Azeroth undamaged, but injures the Lich King and sends him in retreat. Things play out as they did, the Windrunner sisters are at each others throats and Icecrown Citadel is breached. Except this time, Saurafang the younger doesn't fall. When he is set to die, Riley is there to save him, bringing him back to his unlife, but of his own free will. Sylvanas doesn't jump from Ice Crown this time either, imagining what it would do to Riley to lose two mothers in her life. The Valkyr join and the Forsaken settle into who they are as a race.

Except, Riley doesn't get better. The death of the Lich King was a pivotal moment for the Forsaken, but she doesn't recover in the same way so many others did. Because, the Lich King wasn't the one who originally broke her. That was Jack Slash and the scars of that never faded, they were simply hidden. Time marches on, she grows close to new recruits. Lillian Voss, the Dark Rangers, but she still isn't well mentally and it's getting worse.

And then Scholomance is emptied and they manage to find the portal that originally sent her here. And so, realizing what she needs to do to finally achieve peace, she brings a group together. Dranosh Saurafang, Lilian Voss, Dark Ranger Anya, Cerberus (her undead puppy) and Hack Job (her personal Abomination) head back through to Earth Bet to face the Slaughterhouse Nine.

And kill Jack Slash.

#wormblr #worm fanfiction #Riley Grace Davis #Bonesaw #HER

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eriquin · 2 months

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The Prophetic D&D Game, part 24

POV switch to the excellent Erica Sinclair.

(master post)

One day in January, Lucas’s moping came to a head. Erica normally would not have cared, but this time her brother pulled her aside. He wanted to talk about Max, and about some game he was playing at school. At first, she didn’t understand why she should care, but then he went into more details. Max was withdrawing from all of them, and the guy running this D&D game was putting in stuff about the Upside Down that he shouldn’t have known about. He told her the whole story.

“And what do you want me to do about it?” Erica asked. “Max doesn’t know me, and your new nerd friends sure as heck aren’t going to listen to me. I’m in middle school, remember?”

“No, it’s not about that,” Lucas said. “I just need someone else to know what is going on. Max is too hard to reach. Mike tried telling Nancy, but she blew him off. Dustin tried with Steve and Robin, but they both think he’s imagining things. We’re not imagining it, though. This story that Eddie’s telling? It’s for real.”

“Does it have anything to do with the Russians?”

Lucas shook his head. “I don’t think so, though there’s some hint about foreign countries with the king. But the Russians weren’t involved when Will was taken, so maybe they’re still going to come up later?”

Erica nodded. She got a notebook out from her backpack and flipped it open to a new page. “Okay, go over it again,” she said. “I want to take notes this time.”

She got regular updates whenever they got to play that game again. It made her a little jealous that her brother had a regular D&D group, even if all the people in it sounded like huge dorks. None of her friends were interested in playing, even when she tried to make stories about My Little Pony. It didn’t matter, though. The mystery of her brother’s DM having some kind of sixth sense was fascinating to her.

Mike and Dustin both knew that she knew, and sometimes when they all got together, they went over her notes. They filled in some gaps and had their own theories, but Dustin was the only one who made any sense. Mike mostly whined about having been tricked into playing Steve as a character. Erica didn’t know what his problem was with Steve. The man had fought Russians for her and gave her free ice cream whenever she asked. He was all right in her book, but she didn’t point it out. They didn’t need to know her business.

The four of them decided that it definitely had something to do with the Upside Down, even though they weren’t sure what. They could tell who each person in the main group was supposed to be, but they weren’t sure who all the other characters were. Lucas was mostly worried that all the things that happened in the game were going to happen in real life. He was convinced that Max was in danger, but didn’t know what to do about it.

Then March arrived. The Hawkins Tigers made it to the championship game, and Mom and Dad were so excited to go, even though Lucas never got to actually play. They talked big about supporting him, and how he was putting in his time now and would play when he was older. Erica, on the other hand, could do the math and knew that it would conflict with Hellfire. She was completely unsurprised when she saw those three stooges approaching her after school.

“What now?” she asked.

“We need a sub,” Dustin said. “Eddie said that if we found a sub for Lucas for Hellfire, we could play the Cult of Vecna.”

“What’s the Cult of Vecna?”

“It’s the other game that he’s running,” Mike said. “See, there was this evil lich, and he’s dead but he made a cult and they’re trying to bring him back. We have to stop them. It’s really—”

“Wait, you’re playing two nerd games? At the same time? Gross,” Erica said, shaking her head. “I take it you want me to sub?”

“Yes,” Lucas said. He clasped his hands together. “If we don’t find a sub, then he’s going to run Cursed instead. We’re coming right up against the big bad, and Sadie is going to be bait. If I’m not there, he will kill her for sure.”

“Why don’t you all just ditch?” she asked. “Go watch Lucas play his game. He can’t run anything if you’re all missing.”

“He can, and he will,” Dustin said. “He’s in a truly terrible mood this week. I don’t know what’s up with him, but he would definitely kill us all out of spite. I don’t know what that means for us, if he’s predicting the future.”

Erica scoffed. “You think he’s not just predicting it, but he’s able to change things?”

“I don’t know,” Dustin said. “All I know is that we have to see it through until we can figure out what’s supposed to happen.”

“Yeah, we can’t have something like Lucas being out screw with the final battle,” Mike said. “Also, if we can delay it, then I can tell El and Will about it when I go to visit them in California.”

“You haven’t told them yet?” Erica asked, slipping as much judgement into the statement as she could.

“I didn’t want to tell them over the phone in case someone was listening, and it sounded weird when I started writing it down,” Mike said. “Also, I wouldn’t put it past the lab people to read our mail.”

“Rude,” Erica said. “That’s a federal offense.”

“Yeah, I don’t think they care about that,” Lucas said. “Will you be the sub? I know you have a character you can use.”

Erica arched an eyebrow at him. “Mom will be pissed if I miss your game,” she said.

“Not half as pissed as she’d be if I missed my game,” said Lucas.

“If I do this, I expect to be appropriately compensated.”

Dustin sighed and rolled his eyes. “I will buy you three new minifigs at the game store next time we go.”

“Six new minifigs, plus a baby dragon.”

Dustin groaned. “Four, and no dragon.”

Mike threw his arms in the air. “We don’t have time for this! I’ll get her the dragon!” he said. “Can we just go?”

Dustin sighed and looked at Mike with disgust, then back to Erica. They both knew that bargaining was part of the fun. “Fine, four minifigs and a baby dragon.” He held his hand out to her. “Deal?”

They shook on it, and Erica prepared for her grand entrance into Hellfire.

Taglist: @weirdandabsurd42, @10moonymhrivertam, @blueskiesandstarrynight

#two today because i have requests from wip wednesday #hellfire club #the prophetic d&d game #stranger things #my writing

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ultimate-sword-showdown · 4 months

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Round 1, Match 12: Rivers of Blood vs. Ashbringer

Rivers of Blood

From: Elden Ring

Wielder: The player, Let Me Solo Her

This is a cursed katana, which has killed many in battle. However, the noteworthy part of this sword is its significance to the Elden Ring community. Let Me Solo Her is the name of a player who wields the Rivers of Blood Katana in their offhand and Uchigatana in their primary hand, and, wearing nothing but a loincloth and a pot on their head, has managed to defeat the notoriously difficult Malenia in combat over 4,000 times (as of March 2023). They can appear as a summon for players who are struggling with the boss in co-op mode to help them beat Malenia. Let Me Solo Her has even received official recognition for their accomplishments by Bandai Namco. The legends surrounding the Rivers of Blood Katana outside of the game are even more significant than the legends surrounding the sword within the game’s world.

Ashbringer

From: World of Warcraft

Wielder: Alexandros Mograine, others

The Ashbringer is a powerful sword infused with the Holy Light, so named for its ability to slaughter undead and leave nothing but ash in its wake. It was first wielded by Alexandros Mograine, until his oldest son Renault killed him with the Ashbringer, corrupting it. Alexandros continued to use the sword as an undead until his youngest son Darion killed him. Darion then realized that his father’s soul had been corrupted, impaling himself with the Ashbringer to free Alexandros. Darion wielded the Ashbringer as an undead before relinquishing it to Tirion Fordring, who then purified the corrupted blade. Tirion later used Ashbringer to shatter Frostmourne and defeat the Lich King.

#elden ring #rivers of blood #malenia blade of miquella #let me solo her #world of warcraft #alexandros mograine #wow ashbringer #sword showdown #sword showdown polls #sword showdown rematch

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goldencommon · 1 year

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It’s not the fastest ever but it is pretty damn fast: three days into March of the Lich King we have a balance patch! It’s only hitting two cards:

Sire Denathrius now gains a point of damage for every 2 Infuses instead of 1 (or as I like to think of him, Diet Denathrius: half the calories, no one really likes it but some will remain loyal to the brand)

Shockspitter now costs 3 mana (up from 2). Yes, this seemingly harmless card held the meta hostage for 48 hours, easily dealing 50+ damage in a single turn. Future generations will never believe us.

#hearthstone #March of the Lich King

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gamingisalifestyle · 1 year

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Lady Deathwhisper by Jay Axer

#Hearthstone #Gaming #Video Games #Lady Deathwhisper #March of the Lich King #Fantasy #Art #Jay Axer #Warcraft

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cambria-writes · 2 years

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happy update day!

i literally finished this an hour ago, then i ran out for an errand, and now here i am. i've started work on ch9, and i'm already like 30% done.

i don't really know how many more chapters we've got to go; we're just finishing up on episode 5 in this one, next chapter stars in episode 6 so... math says we've got like maybe five chapters to go? i'm probably gonna write eight more lmao i don't know when to stop. i lied cause i almost accidentally posted the wrong chapter lmao but we still got several chapters to go babes!!

my ask box is always open, i love reading your comments, and the taglist is always open!!

...i'm gonna go fix the format of the other fics so everything's consistent now lol we love aesthetic evolution

pairing: eddie munson x reader rating: T-M, each chapter rated individually warnings: guns, active shooting, minor character death, mention of a corpse, lots of swearing, reader passes out, ADND should come with its own warning, DND references in general, kind of an anxiety attack, let me know if i need to tag anything else! word count: 3,365

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𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕾𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓: 𝔄𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔩 𝔖𝔭𝔢𝔩𝔩

March 23rd, 1986

It takes maybe a second, but for that one second, you feel like your body’s being pulled in every single direction at once. Your stomach rises up into your throat and lights burst behind your eyelids, accompanied by the worst, searing pain. The only thing you can think of is not letting go of Eddie’s hand.

And then it stops as soon as it starts.

You’re on your knees, doubled over on the road, gasping for breath. It takes a few seconds of jamming the palms of your hands into your eyes to start seeing again. You think you hear Eddie somewhere off to your right. You struggle getting to your feet, the cold like claws digging into your muscles and your thin sweater is doing nothing to help.

When you feel for your nose, your hand comes away bloody again. Snort and spit out the blood before making your way over to Eddie. He’s at least still mostly standing, hands on his knees and trying to catch his breath. He holds an arm out to keep you away while he straightens up.

“I’m good,” He croaks. “Just need a sec.”

“We don’t have a second,” you whisper harshly, moving forward to grab him by the arm. “We need to go.” You don’t listen to his complaints as you start dragging him towards the road. “Mind the vines.”

“The hell do you mean mind the vines?”

“Exactly what I said,” you reply, picking up the pace once Eddie seems to be able to move on his own. “Your lich king uses them to track movement or something, it’s some weird kinda hive mind.”

“Hive mind? You’re kidding me.”

“Wait, hey—don’t do that!” you shout, pulling him back from one of the thicker vines by the side of the road. “You wanna fucking die in this place cause that’s a good way to do it!”

Eddie turns around to look at you and his face is blank for a second. “You’re... really not kidding.”

“Look around you, Ed! Does it look like I’m kidding?” You put your arms out and take a few steps back. “Look, actually look. Does this look like home to you?” You scoff and turn back towards the road. “Come on. It wasn’t too far.”

It takes a bit before you hear Eddie jogging to catch up with you. He stays silent while he walks to your right. You flex your fingers around the handle of the gun and keep staring straight ahead.

“So you...” Eddie trails off, walking a bit closer to brush your shoulders together. “You’ve been having nightmares about this place the whole time?”

“Yep,” you emphasize the P with a pop. “November 1983.”

“Wait, isn’t that when the Byers kid went missing?”

You hum and shrug, take a second to jump over a particularly large vine crossing the road. “Yeah, well. Everything kind of all went to shit from thereon out. Clearly,” you motion vaguely around young. “It hasn’t stopped.”

“So like, how much further?” Eddie asks, and the nervous edge on his voice could probably be heard from a mile down the road.

You take a second to squint and try and look further down the road. There doesn’t seem to be anything for as far as you can see. You grab at Eddie’s arm to make him stop.

“It... it shouldn’t be farther out than this,” you say quietly, turning to look around. “Do you see anything?”

“Nah,” Eddie answers slowly. “I’m not... are you sure this is the right way?”

“I thought so...” you trail off.

When you turn back to face the way you were going down, you get the same creeping feeling at the back of your neck as you did earlier.

“Eddie, I think we need to go back.”

“Oh, now you’re agreeing that this is a terrible idea,” he scoffs.

You’re about to smack him when something snaps in the woods off to your left. You raise your gun and make sure it’s cocked.

“Hey, what the hell was that?” Eddie whispers, side stepping a few feet to get closer to you.

“I don’t know,” you whisper back, keeping your gun aimed at the woods but slowly stepping back. “We should probably—”

Something rushes out of the trees and skitters to a stop in the middle of the road, about thirty or fourty feet ahead of out. You stop breathing for a second, until the thing turns its head towards you, and its entire face opens up with a flower and a a deafening screech.

“Holy shit,” Eddie breathes, grabbing your shoulder and pulling you back. “take us back, take us back!”

You pull the trigger once and miraculously, despite shaking hands and the missing ability to breathe, you manage to hit the thing straight in whatever it has that passes for a mouth. It lets loose another screech before it starts running right at you.

“What the hell was that for?!” Eddie screams, dragging you back to start running. “We have to go!”

“Shit, shit, shit I’m trying!” you shout back, flailing to grab a hold of Eddie’s arm. “Stay still!”

“Are you fucking crazy?!”

You dig your heels in to make Eddie stop and pull him back to you. You can hear the thumping of the monster running behind you, but you close your eyes against everything anyways.

The sound of feet hitting pavement fades away with the screech and Eddie’s screaming. And for a second, again, you feel that weightlessness and gut-wrench. When the ground meets your feet again, though, you don’t have any strength in your legs left to hold you up and you crumple in the middle of the road, boneless.

“Fuck, fuck!” Eddie screams, and you can barely lift your head to look at him. When you do, your vision is too blurry to make anything out.

You do, however, see a body on the pavement, just behind him.

“Ed,” you whisper, pulling an arm out from under you. “Ed, be... behind you,” you choke out, pointing.

“Wh-what are you,” he starts, but stumbles back clean onto his ass after he turns around. “Holy shit,” he whimpers, twisting to look back at you. “He—Chrissy—”

“Ed,” you mumble, letting your cheek rest back on the road. “I’m gonna... I’m gonna pass out.”

“What? Wait, no, no, no—”

The funny thing about unconsciousness is that it’s not quite a lack of consciousness. It’s like you can feel and hear everything in bursts, but only in some kind of periphery.

You can feel yourself being carried, kind of, and you can hear someone talking, almost, but none of it ever feels close enough to properly register, and you can barely remember any of it a few seconds after you almost feel it.

When you open your eyes again, it’s still pitch black outside if the curtained window is anything to go by, but there’s light coming from down the hallway from the bedroom. Your whole body aches—you can feel scrapes on your legs against your jeans and your palms are burning. There’s a headache blooming behind your eyes again, and it nearly burns every time you breathe in through your nose.

When you groan and try to roll over, you entirely miscalculate how far the edge of the bed is, and fall clean off when you can’t get your legs around in time. The sound must clearly alert Eddie in whichever part of the house he’s in, because no sooner does your head meet the floor do you hear clattering, swearing, and furious stomping down the hall. You’ve managed to prop yourself up on your elbows by the time he reaches the doorway.

“H-hey, you,” you try to greet casually, but the migraine splitting your skull is making it hard to get anything else out.

“Don’t “hey you” me you fucking menace,” Eddie grumbles, moving over to reach under your arms to help you back up to sit on the bed. He crouches in front of you when you’re settled, elbows on his knees and head hanging with a sigh. “You mind telling me what happened and why you felt the unrestrained need—“ Eddie cuts himself off when his voice begins to rise and he sees you visibly wince at the volume. “Sorry, sorry. Just, what happened?”

You shrug and pinch your eyes shut. “I really don’t know. It’s like that second plane shift took it all out of me.” Eddie nods for a second, but seems to realize something and shakes his head furiously.

“Yeah, okay, that’s good to know and everything, but I was talking about that freaky dog thing that ran right for us with the venus fly trap face.”

You snort at the description but stay quiet for a second, trying to think through the migraine. “Henderson called them, uh… Demodogs? I think? They’re like the Demogorgon but quadrupedal instead of bipedal.”

You can hear Eddie cursing Dustin under his breath before he puts his hands on your knees. “Anything else you can tell me?”

You frown and shake your head a bit. “Any-anything else? What—”

“I dunno, like, how to kill them? What they’re susceptible to? Literally anything?”

You bring your hands up to your face and dig your fingers into your eyes. “I can’t-I can’t think. Can you get my painkillers or something? My head’s killing me.”

Eddie rushes out of the room without a word. You let yourself fall back on the bed. Try to recall the nightmares from before. There was that time two years ago when Chief Hopper was stuck in the tunnels and he managed to clear the vines with fire… so maybe your harebrained thought of making a flamethrower wasn’t too absurd after all.

“Here,” Eddie says, entering the room while shaking a pill bottle out into his hand. He caps it back up and grabs the bottle of water he had wedged under his arm and hands it to you.

You sit back up with a groan and whisper your thanks. Twist open the bottle, accept and throw back the pills, and drain half the bottle in one go. When you gasp and wipe your mouth, you take the time to properly look at Eddie.

He’s pale, clearly shaken up. And now that you’re paying attention, you can see the trembling of his hands on his knees as he crouches in front of you, and you can make out a bead of sweat going down his neck. You reach out to wipe away a smear of something from his cheekbone with your thumb.

Your nose feels itchy and your eyes are burning. “I’m sorry,” you breathe. Swallow thickly. “I-I’m so sor—”

“Hey, no,” Eddie mutters, holding onto the wrist nearest his face and bringing his other hand up behind your neck. “Hey, none of this is your fault. We’re both just caught up in some bullshit, we didn’t ask for it. You’re good.” He gives the back of your neck a squeeze and you let yourself fall into his shoulder. “You’re good. We’re fine. We’re gonna be fine.”

“Man I’m sorry for crying you much,” you choke out between sobs, grabbing at Eddie’s denim vest. “I just—I can’t—”

“None of that.” The fact that you can hear the shaking in Eddie’s voice tears a desperate wail from you. “It’s okay, just let it out. Just let it out.”

And you do.

All the fear and the frustration, the confusion; you sob it out. The consuming rage of not being listened to, of being called insane; the confusion of never knowing when you’ll end up in that-that hellscape again, and whether or not it’s going to be real; the certainty that if you talk about what happens to you again that you’ll just be sent back to another hospital. Maybe permanently this time.

Worst of all is the knowing, now, that all your nightmares were real. Maybe the details were off, here and there, but the people you saw dead died. There is another Hawkins and there are monsters there. And, for some god forsaken reason, you can go there.

“Hey,” you hear Eddie whisper your name. “Can-can you breathe with me? Can you do that?” he asks, and the fingers at the back of your neck start to scratch lightly at your nape. It takes a second, but you nod; you know you’re hyperventilating, now that the crying has stopped, and you know you need to get a grip. “Alright, okay,” Eddie continues, resting his chin on top of your head. “In seven, hold for two, out for four. Got it? In seven, hold two, out four.”

You nod again, and try inhaling when he does. When you start coughing, he whispers that it’s okay, and you try again. After a few failed attempts, and once the burning in your chest starts subsiding, you finally manage to match your breathing to the rise and fall of Eddie’s chest.

“There you go,” he sighs on the exhale, giving the back of your neck one last squeeze before moving his hands to your shoulders and pulling you away just enough to get a good look at you. “Hey there.”

“Hey,” you whisper back, doing your best to offer a watery smile. Take a deep breath. “Thanks. For helping.”

“Well, hey,” Eddie chuckles, patting your right shoulder. “Thanks for not letting me get eaten by a freaky carnivorous plant dog.” You close your eyes and let yourself laugh, even if it’s still a bit shaky.

“Yeah,” you nod, patting him on the chest. “Well. Can’t let my therapist die in a parallel universe. Who else is gonna listen to my bullshit?”

Eddie helps you to your feet once you feel like you’ve got a good enough grasp on yourself again. Mentions that he’s been poring over his books since he brought you back to the house for lack of a better thing. Has been checking in on you every other hour to make sure you were still breathing. Cleaned your face off, because it was ‘covered in blood like you’d walked straight out of Carrie or something’.

“Did you let the others know what happened?” you ask once you’re sat at the table with the rest of your bottle of water. Looking around you can see that Eddie’s covered the windows nearby with blankets, cushions and other fabric you think might be clothes. The lantern in the center of the table casts enough light to see most everything around you, including several books laid out and overlapping on the table.

“Yeah,” he grunts, letting himself down on the chair. He waves you off when you frown in concern. “They’re all a little… occupied right now, but one of the brats should come with their designated escort later.”

“You mean Harrington,” you correct, a bit absently, pulling one of the D&D books closer to you. A quick flip of the cover tells you it’s the Dungeon Master’s guide. “Did you find anything interesting while I was passed out?”

“Actually,” Eddie starts, flipping covers and going through the books on the table before he pulls one out from beneath the guide you have in front of you. It’s thin, and you never would’ve known it was there. “I felt so stupid not thinking of it first but… here.” He slaps his hand down and flattens the booklet before spinning it around to hand it over to you. “Right there,” he points to the page on your right.

“This… is this a spell list?” you ask, a little bit incredulously.

“The magic-user spell list yeah—that’s not the point. Look,” he leans over the table to tap at a column at the bottom of the right page. “The ninth level spells.”

“Gate,” you breathe, frowning and leaning down closer. “Astral Spell, Power Word: Kill…” You bring your hand up to the book and look at the other columns. “Telekenesis, Wizard Eye, Projected Image, Dimension Door—”

“Everything you’ve seen,” Eddie starts, slowly lowering himself back down in his chair. “All of it, it’s all there. Even the monster shit, it’s all there.”

You let out a quiet gasp, and turn the page. You zero in on the title at the top of the left page:

SPELLS TABLE

Clerics

“Hold up,” up say, raising your hand over the table and motioning to be handed something. “I’m not seeing plane shift in here.” You look up at Eddie, who seems to take a second before registering what you’ve said before snapping his fingers and going through a few books on the table before picking up up and passing it over.

“It’s, uh, I think it’s page fourty?”

You flip through the pages and land on the one mentioned, and there it is at the bottom. The cleric spell list.

“There is it,” you exclaim, pointing down and looking up. “Plane shift.” You look back down at the page and frown, “This is level five shit though. I don’t know that…”

“Don’t, you don’t know that what,” Eddie asks after you stay quiet for a few seconds. You flip through a few more pages, take a second to read and lean back in your chair.

“True Seeing,” you say quietly, gesturing at the book. “I mean, I definitely don’t need some kind of-of mushroom ointment for my eyes, but that sounds about right.”

“Anything else sound familiar?” Eddie asks, clasping his hands in front of him over the book on the table. You bite your lip and look down again, sigh and shrug.

“I-I mean I don’t know? Augury, maybe, I guess?” You let a hand trail down the columns. “I really don’t know, most of this shit just kind of happens to me, I don’t exactly try to do any of it.”

“But you tried with Plane Shift,” Eddie points out, taking the book back and flipping it around to take a look at it. “And you’ve basically done Astral Spell before even if you were kind of, y’know. Unconscious.”

You cross your arms and narrow your eyes at the man sitting across from you. “You’re not actually suggesting I do what I think you’re suggesting I do.”

Eddie’s grin could split his face with how wide it is.

“No. No, absolutely not,” you growl out, slamming your hands down on the table. “Are you forgetting that just the plane shifting almost got us killed? How about the part where I passed the fuck out as soon as I got us back? The bleeding? Nuh-uh,” you conclude, crossing you arms again and kicking the table. “No fucking way.”

“Come on,” Eddie pleads, putting his elbows and slapping his hands together almost supplicantly. “It can be something easy, totally inconsequential. Like,” he looks down between his elbows before looking back up. “Cure Light Wounds! You get a papercut—”

“Boy, are you stupid—”

“Or what about Silence? Speak With Animals should be—”

“Eddie!”

He flinches back a bit in his seat, but otherwise puts his hands up in surrender. You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose in irritation.

“I’m not a test subject, Ed,” you whisper, letting your hand fall down in your lap and giving him a look you hope is just shy of begging. “Right now I just. Can we just like, get high and pig out on junk food or something?”

Eddie sighs and has the decency to look apologetic. “I don’t have anything on me, princess. Kind of didn’t really have the time to grab anything when we…”

He trails off and you don’t need to hear the rest of the sentence. “Right, well at least we have beer,” you say as you get up and head over to the fridge. “You did put it in the fridge right?”

“Yeah, but I mean, shouldn’t you be drinking, like, water or something a little more—”

“I just woke up from passing the fuck out after basically teleporting us twice and dodging a hellhound in literal, actual hell,” you call from the fridge. You pick up two bottles, scoff and put them back in the case before taking the whole thing out. “I deserve a fucking break from this bullshit.”

𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

@anothermunsonsimp @doratheignora @storiesbyrhi

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longveil · 11 months

Text

Report 638-05y: Claims to Title

[Photo by Mathias Reding on Unsplash]

Report 638-05y: Claims to Title, Seraanna Longveil

Seraanna Longveil (ren’dorei), and her younger sister Annadia (sin’dorei), are the only known survivors of the Morrowsun bloodline, a house once thought to have gone extinct in the Fall of Quel’thalas.

Morrowsun was a quel’dorei house of modest holdings on the southern borders - the Marches - of Quel’thalas. Almost a century before the First War, Lord Vaeran Morrowsun, formally addressed as Marquis, entered into an alliance of marriage with Telnia Roselight, the daughter of a well-placed merchant family. The Roselights received entry into title and nobility and all it entailed, while Morrowsun gained much-needed resources and an entry into finance.

It was an open secret that the marriage was one of alliance, not love, and that Vaeran kept a mistress, Aralya Longveil, known since his youth. Telnia gave birth to a son hailed as the Morrowsun heir, cementing the union of Morrowsun and Roselight. Meanwhile, the daughters of Vaeran’s mistress, Seraanna and Annadia, were considered illegitimate lest Roselight withdraw their alliance.

Arthas Menethil’s scourging of Quel’thalas ravaged Morrowsun lands, and the Morrowsun line was slaughtered in the ensuing carnage. Similarly, Aralya perished when the Lich King’s forces reached Silvermoon but her grown daughters, Seraanna and Annadia, survived the invasion and harsh times immediately thereafter (see historical report 001-06g). With House Morrowsun thought extinct, Kael’thas and his Magisters seized most of its assets and redistributed them to their allies as Quel’thalas attempted to rebuild.

Thirty-four years later, near the closing of the Fourth War, a packet of documents was presented to the offices of Regent Lord Lor’themar Theron. (Refer to report 631-12c regarding disturbance and fire in the Ghostlands.) Dated from the run-up to the Scourge invasions and bearing Vaeran Morrowsun’s witnessed seal, the documents conferred legitimacy upon Seraanna and Annadia as heirs of Morrowsun “should my house otherwise come to ruin.”

The solicitors involved, Vor’min and Alesstus Evercrown, presented a case that managed to survive the challenges of the noble houses that had profited from the fall of Morrowsun. Ultimately, the sisters were allowed to claim the house name, title, and remaining (uninhabitable) estate - on the condition of renouncing any claim to the lands and assets previously seized and redistributed.

Seraanna now holds the title of Marquessa (Lady of the Marches) of Morrowsun although she rarely uses the title and has shown little interest in noble machinations, particularly as ren’dorei remain unwelcome in Silvermoon. She owns, through legitimate agents, (vetted, no irregularities found) a controlling interest in a building on the edge of Stormwind Harbor where she often makes her residence. However, she’s spent most of the last three years near the Temple of the Jade Serpent in Pandaria’s Jade Forest (cross reference report 636-18m, subheading “Alchemist”)

Annadia, using her affected surname of Thorn, seems even even less inclined to politics and prefers her role as Captain of the Aralya’diel, a newly-christened clipper from the shipyards of Suramar (report 637-12e). Not only is it unusual to see a private vessel completed while both navies are still under reconstruction, the Aralya'diel has a difficult-to-obtain dispensation to dock in Alliance harbors (request permission to examine signing authorizations, cross-reference with financial transactions and spending patterns). Such dispensations are a recent development of the armistice; Horde crew or passengers of such vessels are limited to the docks and harbor only.

The brothers Evercrown remain as Morrowsun’s solicitors and representatives in matters of business and finance. (Background checks have not borne fruit, refer to assets in Dalaran and Suramar for further investigation.)

Queries submitted to Stormwind's intelligence agencies have resulted only in documents so redacted as to be useless. Similar queries to Silvermoon have returned only the registration of House Morrowsun upon the rolls, with no other matters addressed.

– Respectfully submitted, Agent C. Nath

Agent’s note: I understand that previous reports establish Longveil as a person of interest, and Thorn’s actions and associations as a potential infiltration risk, but neither seem to bear inclination or motive to pose meaningful threat. The Evercrowns are most notable for escaping notice but, while I expected them to have a more visible profile, they seem to operate only rarely within Alliance purvey. Permission requested to reduce priority of this line of research for higher priority subjects.

Response: Request denied. Continue research and observation.

#longveilstories #how to couch background in narrative #morrowsun #annadia thorn

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