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bettyfrommars · 9 months

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Part 4: My Name is Eddie

a continuation of the Gargoyle Eddie story

masterlist

18+ONLY

⚠️smut, monsterfugging, unprotected sex, gore, mention of a decapitated head, a murder, oral for all, size kink, Eddie wears glasses, Eddie is a demon and a gargoyle, creampie, language barrier, true love, impossible love. wc: 2.1k

This part takes place shortly after the events of part 3. Thank you to everyone who has encouraged this story, and to my talented friends Somna and Drac for the amazing gargoyle Eddie artwork they did here and here.

Please remember, this is monsterfucking.

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“Eddie?” You stifled a laugh. “Centuries of years old and your name is…Eddie?”

You flipped back a page in the delicate binding of the antique, leather-bound book, trying to decipher the syllables of his ancient language. You’d just been for a swim in the secluded lake behind the mansion to wash the blood off from Eddie’s latest kill.

Your ex was dead, and while his heart pumped the last of his blood from his body, you watched Eddie’s face shift from rage to uncertainty as he wondered if he’d crossed a line and now, he was too much for you. His black tail dripped with blood, and he'd held the severed head by the hair; tendrils of guts hanging down as the eyes twitched one last time.

You were more worried about Eddie than anything. The defined, smooth muscles under his stone-gray flesh flexed tight and did not release as he searched your face with caution. His wings that had once been stretched out wide as a threat, fell slowly down, disarmingly so.

You went to him then, with your arms out, and Eddie’s clawed fingers released the decapitated head to pick you up into his embrace so that your legs wrapped around him. You felt the viscous blood connect your chest to his with a sticky smack, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care that you were naked with your gargoyle lover who just murdered a man right in front of your eyes. You ran your fingers lovingly down one of his horns from the tip to the base, and then pushed some of his dark hair behind his pointed ear.

You put your forehead to his and rubbed your noses together. With a deep voice, he said something in his language, and even though you’d been doing your best to try and learn, it was a difficult task, and you could only speak and understand a few words.

You could’ve sworn he said, “I’m sorry,” but you weren’t sure, and your mouth found his, to seal his words in, to let him know that everything would be alright.

Now, as you sat across from him on a blanket under a tree near the lake, you asked him again, just to be sure.

“Eddie?” You liked saying it. You’d been calling him Goyle for so long, you felt bad for not knowing his full name, especially considering all you had been through already, and how often he came inside of you.

He had a pair of reading glasses perched on his demon nose and he looked over the top of them at you to give a few slow nods of his head. In his huge hand was a children's alphabet book—he wanted to learn to understand you, as well. More so, he wanted to communicate to you how much he loved you, and he wanted to be able to comprehend the stories that you read to him at night by the fire.

He did his best pronunciation of “my name is Eddie,” in that deep, guttural voice of his, and it made you smile so big—he was doing so good.

You were so proud, you took his book from him and crawled up into his lap. Eddie had a huge beach towel around his hips, and you were naked under a big, oversized shirt.

This was the fourth pair of glasses you’d had to get for him because they kept breaking. You had to teach him how to treat delicate things, and train him not to accidentally poke one of his claws through the lens. When you got him really relaxed, his claws would retract and sink back into the beds of his fingers like a cat.

When your hand slotted under his ears to kiss him, you wondered—not for the first time—how you would introduce him to some of the other people in your life. You were also struck with the realization that maybe that would never happen; maybe it would be just you and Eddie forever. You didn’t have any close family left, but you did miss a few of your friends. What would they think about your gargoyle Eddie? You’d been successfully able to placate a few emails and phone calls because everyone knew you had been through a lot. You worried about the day that one of them would come looking for you unexpectedly, much like your ex had.

But now, you could feel him getting hard as you sat in his lap, and you gave him a sheepish grin before slinking down on your knees to remove the towel. His unholy manroot was the size of a forearm, and you couldn’t fit it all in your mouth on the best of days, but you always did your best.

He watched you wrap your hand around the base to pull the straining length toward you. Being that he was a gargoyle, Eddie was completely hairless and stone-smooth, and you knew you could get one of his balls in your mouth, so that is what you did first. He sat propped up against the big tree trunk, grunting at how good it felt as your tongue worked in circles around the soft skin, sucking it in your cheeks like it was a round, jawbreaker candy.

You worked your way with kisses back up the shaft and flicked your tongue at the big vein and up the slit at the head. There was precious, demon pre-cum there now and so you sucked and wrapped your lips around the tip, offering a few fluttering licks. When you looked up, you saw that he was watching you from under hooded eyes, lips parted.

You spat a few times on the head, and then ran the saliva around with your tongue, enjoying the soft whimper he let out. “My King,” you mewed, right before the tip disappeared inside your mouth, stretching your lips to their max as you went down as far as you could. Your hand worked in tandem, like an extension of your mouth, your tongue swirling whenever it reached the top.

Your eyes watered a bit as you sent it to the back of your throat, and Eddie bucked his hips at the sensation. His cock was messy with your saliva, and when you pulled off, he liked the way your spit collected in your mouth for him.

You noticed his breathing catch and you could feel his balls tighten up close to his body as one hand massaged them. He told you he was about to cum in his own language, growling, and you jerked the tip, holding your mouth open.

The first hot spurt hit your lips, and then you closed your mouth down over it, swallowing, jerking him, moaning with soft pulls of hunger for every last bit your man had to give.

You cleaned him up, not wanting to miss a drop, and afterwards, you took a nap together on the blanket under the tree with Eddie spooning you from behind, one of his massive arms caging you in and locking you against him. The cool, early evening breeze hit your face and woke you a little first, but then you heard Eddie groan as his pelvis twitched against your backside. The air smelled like alfalfa and sun kissed skin and the metallicity of wet earth.

His voice deep and hot against your ear, he whispered something in his language that sounded like a question, and you nodded, even though you didn’t understand. His fingers scraped up your thigh, pushing up your tee shirt so he could rub his growing length against your slit. He kissed down your neck and your shoulder, coaxing you with his hands to take off the shirt altogether, which you did, and then his hand sank between your legs to find your cunt.

You arched back against him, mouth open. You were drowsy but ready as he worked the head of his beastly cock along your wet offering, talking dirty to you in that breathless way you loved—even though you couldn’t decipher any of it.

Still on your side, he lifted your top leg up with one strong arm so he could line himself up with your hole. When he sank the tip in, you pushed against him and his long, black tongue came out to flick the shell of your ear. Your fingers came down to work your clit, to help open up for him as your tight entrance squeezed around his tip with resistance.

“Let me in, my Queen. Let me have you,” he murmured in his language.

You were already soaked, dripping down your ass, but even then—it took your muscles a second to expand.

“Take me, take all of me,” you begged, arching your hips back so that he sank in even more. You brought your hand up to grab onto one of his horns and turned your head to kiss him.

You felt Eddie shiver at the way you took him; he braced himself and held your leg in the air as his muscular hips began to work. You could feel the intensity in his cat-like brown eyes as he met your gaze; he wanted to see the look on your face when he filled you up like no one else ever could. You whimpered his name over and over and bit your lip and pulled his head down so the tip of his tongue could dance along yours.

“Fuck,” you gasped, desperately, finding that sweet spot on your clit again, feeling the stretch with your fingers from where he was splitting you. Your sex made wet smacking noises as they met and your body jerked from the force of it.

Eddie flipped you over onto your back and pulled your legs up in the air so that your upper back and head were the only parts of you on the ground. On his knees, he buried his face in your cunt, smelling deeply first, running his nose through your folds, and then he sucked at your bundle of nerves, pushing his tongue inside, lifting his eyes to look at your face—to make sure you liked it.

“Eddie I love you,” but you said it in his language, so it sounded more like “me is loving you Eddie” but he understood.

He lowered your hips enough so that his cock lined up with your hole again, and your feet were at his shoulders, draped in his dark hair.

He stared down, locking eyes with you, and you saw that familiar softness there; the centuries of loneliness and yearning. “Need…my Queen… inside.”

He could’ve been meaning to say so many different things, and they all touched your heart. Just then he sent his throbbing cock in balls deep with a passionate thrust, making you arch your head back with a curse. You heard the crunch of another pair of Eddie’s glasses breaking, but at that moment it didn’t matter.

He licked his thumb and worked your spot with the right pressure and speed—knowing you were close by the way you milked his cock in fluttering pulses. He bent forward slowly as he fucked, just far enough so he could take your face in his hand and rub his thumb along your cheek. You moved to kiss his massive palm that was almost the size of your head.

“This is love?” He said it in the form of a question, and you wondered if he’d meant to, but you answered anyway, nodding.

“Yes, Eddie, this is love.”

He swallowed hard, dragging his fingers away from your face as if it pained him to do so, and then the thrusting continued slow and deep. He rocked that spot deep inside of you over and over, making fireworks explode behind your eyes.

“Fuck Eddie baby I’m gonna--oh god,” you said it all in one breath just as he snapped his hips against you, urging you with those ancient words, promising that no other man or monster would ever have you--you were his for eternity.

Your pussy rippled around his fat cock, dripping with desire, as you spasmed and wailed. Eddie came close to you again, bracing his hand on the ground, so that he could be closer to you when he came.

This time it was you who put your hand on his cheek, watching his brown eyes go black as he shuddered and came so deep and so hard, that his fingers clawed into the dirt at your side. As he trembled there, watching you, he kept his cock buried and held your hips up on purpose so that none of his seed could leak out.

When he finally pulled out and released you, you climbed up into his lap again. He crushed you against him with an innocent urgency, spreading his large wings out fold them in and wrap them around you protectively.

He whispered in your ear: “My name is Eddie,” repeating the phrase that had made your eyes light up earlier, hoping it would have the same effect.

You nodded against his shoulder, feeling emotional. “Your name is Eddie, and I love you.”

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson series #gargoyle!eddie #gargoyle lover #monsterfucking #monsterfucker #monsterfugging #monsterfuqqing #monster smut #Eddie Munson smut

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writinginthetwilight · 18 days

Text

Knock, knock.

Neighbour!Eddie x Neighbour! Reader

Chapter Warnings: 18+ for smut in later parts if you are under 18 you do not belong here, be gone.

AFAB reader. Stress. Strong language. Loneliness. Anxiety. Dubious Dnd lore. Horror-esk/creepy vibes. See Masterlist for full list of warnings.

Authors note: Thank you for all the love on the last part of this fic you're a lovely bunch. This all Eddie's POV, slowing down to show a little glimpse of life on the other side of the wall and in his noggin. As always, all my love to @bettyfrommars @allthingsjoeq and @somnambulic-thing for writing the original prompt that birthed this weird little world and being so supportive.

Special thanks to Somna for beta reading this chapter and soothing the brain goblins 💙

Wc: 4.4k

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated. I hope you're all being kind to yourselves. Bye.

Part 6 - Rapid eye movement.

Starbursts roll over his vision, the edges are fading into burning static, there's a darkness rapidly approaching. He's falling.

Then he's awake.

Sitting bolt upright, his fingers catch the knots in his curls as he runs his hands over his head, panting breaths leaving him in time with the way his eyes dart around the room.

The world's a gentle sombre blue, shadows still overbearing as the sun starts its crawl out from beyond the horizon.

The knock that comes from behind him forces out the last of the breath he's been holding, reality slowly sinking in as he falls backwards.

He knocks back on the wall behind his head.

A returned acknowledgement of the shared time, somewhere.

The walls are too thick to pick up any small movements, but he waits and listens anyway.

He hopes you get back to sleep.

Dashed red numbers are a blur from his nightstand, too bright for tired eyes, they edge into focus slowly as he blinks away the sleep, he wishes he hadn't.

He needs to get up soon.

His first appointment’s in a couple of hours, a new one on the outskirts of the city and he needs to stop by the store first, see if he's picked up anymore for the week ahead.

A car revs its engine outside, his heart stutters, eyes clench closed.

It was just a dream.

Kind of.

Whatever it was, he's back now.

You're back now.

He scrubs at his face, pulling off his sweat stricken shirt, material damp against his skin and rapidly turning cold, before reaching out blindly for his cigarettes and balancing his ashtray precariously on his stomach.

Smoke curls up as he lets out his first exhale and he tries to calm his racing mind as he watches the shapes they coil into, serpents consuming themselves, tendrils that dissipate into nothing.

It had been what felt like a lifetime that you'd both nervously waited to wake, for something to appear from the darkness, but nothing came.

You were stuck, stock still as he'd tried to get you through the light, everything in his body telling him to go.

Your lack of self preservation would be impressive, if it didn't make him feel like such a fucking coward.

He can still see your face, eyes trained on the wall, mouth working like you were trying to get words out as you finally moved with him away.

The relief on your face as the rushing in your ears began.

The small wave you'd given him before being ripped away.

Fuck.

His letter from you sits on his nightstand amongst the clutter he needs to clear. He reaches over, turning on the small lamp which does very little, barely illuminates the area around him in muted peach hues.

It's enough.

I'm going to plan an exorcism, so if you could let me know which weekday evening would be good for you, that would be great.

In the meantime if you could find some sort of bell to wear so I don't almost die of a heart attack each time I come home that would be great.

His cigarette smoulders at the edge of the page smoke drifting over the words like fog.

He scratches at the stubble that's starting to come through on his jaw, trying to hide the smile that comes to his face at your words.

He's not sure who from.

Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, letter still in hand he pads his way through to the kitchen.

Bare feet hit the smooth cold tile, stray crumbs sticking to the bottom of them that he wipes off absentmindedly against his leg as he leans against the counter.

The coffee machine clicks and gurgles as he looks up from your words to stare out over the street, golden light now edging in making the opposing windows reflect back like a hall of mirrors, light dancing over his hands in waves.

He frowns, moving before the idea can fade with distractions, into the living room.

Peanuts and popcorn lie strewn over the floor as he rounds the corner and he curses lightly under his breath.

He'll deal with it later.

He pulls a stack of books off the bookshelf rifling through until he finds it.

‘Manual of the Planes’.

He discards the rest, sitting down criss-cross, stray kernels sticking into his calves where his sweatpants have rolled up.

He shifts them away and glances up to the space in front of him, the memory of you laughing fleeting through his mind.

The coffee pot fills and clicks off in the kitchen, light reflecting off the glass that shrouds the dark liquid.

It goes lukewarm, forgotten.

It's odd that the intentional quiet of his mornings seems to make the apartment less empty.

He'd stopped turning on the TV or playing music in the mornings a few weeks ago, afraid he might wake you.

The fact that there's someone there to hear him seems to make the silence less overwhelming.

He has to pull himself away from the book, pushing it into his bag to resume later, the responsibility of the day taking priority if he wants to make rent this month.

He's crouched at the foot of your doorway down the hall slipping a note under when he hears footsteps.

There's a woman coming down the stairs that curls off at the end of the hall heading towards him with a wary look.

He tries to look as casual as he can.

“Morning.”

He flashes her a grin still down on one knee and she quickly rushes past without a response.

Shit.

He hangs his head, standing slowly as his knees crack and back protests.

Mumbling, he curses tense muscles and aching bones as he slings his backpack over his shoulder, pulling up his soft black hood he adjusts the hair out of his eyes before long limbs carry him down and out onto the street below.

Dewy spring air still holds its chill, the sun still low in the sky and his breath mists in the air around him. He pulls up the collar on his leather jacket, shoulders hunching up around his ears.

The morning rush hasn't started, but there's still bodies on the street, heads down, paper coffee cups steaming in the air.

The constant low murmur of cars and people's existence buzzes around him, and accompanies him all the way until he finally boards his first bus, steel doors closing and muting the world.

The record shop isn't too far, a twenty minute walk at best, but if he's going to make it out to his first lesson he's not got the time to spare.

Early morning sun warms the side of his face as he pulls out the extra book in his rucksack, eyes resuming where they left off, as the bus takes off.

Transitive planes, demi planes, gods, demons and elemental struggles.

It's lighting up his brain.

The places which sit dormant, unentertained in the daily grind to exist, he greedily takes it in, lets it wash over his mind.

His notebook balances awkwardly on his thigh while he takes notes of anything that fits.

Lights, sleep, entry ways, reflections.

Voids and disembodied voices that will suck out his soul.

Shadows crawl over the pages as strangled light gasps between buildings and as the towering skyline clears daylight catches the white of the pages, making his intense gaze falter and look away.

Just in time to see the record store pass.

Shit

He rams everything into his bag, book pages crease and his guitar case rings out muffled pained notes as he clumsily stands and rushes to pull the cord.

The visit’s short and sweet, the owner Buck doesn't bat an eye as Eddie shouts out a slightly breathless hello as he barges past the closed sign.

Raising a hand in response, his gaze still stays firmly set on his newspaper even as Eddie reaches blindly behind the desk and pulls out a green book.

There's no new students.

But there are a couple of kids he hasn't seen in a while, names penned in next to their parents phone numbers.

A little tension leaves him at the sight, lessons are an extra expense, easily cut around the holidays and as spring crawled in, he was sure he wouldn't see them again.

His flyer in the window needs replacing, the words starting to fade from sun exposure. He should probably check the others around the city too.

He'll do it tomorrow.

He daren't risk too much distraction as the next bus carries him out of the city, as the streets outside turn suburban and unfamiliar he needs to count the stops.

Day dreaming’s an expense he can't afford if he doesn't want to be late. First lessons are hard enough without having to explain why he's not on time.

Languished footsteps fall onto pristine sidewalk as the bus hisses and takes off behind him, leaving him to unknown cookie cutter streets.

A knot in his shoulder makes him huff and wince backpack sitting uncomfortably over the muscles there.

He misses the van.

The thought isn't new but lingers a little longer on mornings like this, as his feet hit the ground every step’s a reminder of how much easier it would be.

How much safer he'd feel.

He pushes the thought down, reasoning he wouldn't be able to afford the gas anyways.

Ignores the fact that one appointment wouldn't take almost two hours out of his morning.

A low whistle leaves him as he finds the street, a cul de sac of matching white houses with cloned cherry wood trees to the left of their driveways.

The air smells like breakfast and there's distant chatter of kids in the tall fenced off gardens.

Number 12.

The driveway alone rivals the size of, your his apartment.

He checks his hair in the car window, pulling it back with the satin purple scrunchy on his wrist, biting into his cheek as he wraps it round his hair.

Just another piece of her which remains, stuck into his life like splinters that he keeps fucking finding, just beneath the skin.

He takes a breath, shaking out his arms as he pushes the doorbell, a muffled sing-song tune alerts the house to his arrival.

He shifts nervously, an outline through the frosted glass approaching.

It wouldn't be the first time someone had closed the door in his face. Not even giving him the chance to explain who he was, why he was there bringing down the house prices.

The lock clicks.

“Hi.”

“Can I help you?”

“I'm Eddie, we spoke on the phone. I'm here for guitar lessons with Sam.”

An hours worth of Munson charm and some badly done scales later, he leaves with an envelope full of cash and homemade brownies snug in his backpack.

Six more lessons booked for the same time each week, discussed while Mrs Graham waved him away and flushed pink at his talk of her not looking old enough to have a 10 year old.

As the buildings get taller again, the bus back starts filling out and his mind strays as he tries to avoid eye contact.

You said you worked around here.

He doesn't need to be at the school for another couple of hours and he lets his feet carry him off a few stops early. Through seas of trench coats and shoulder pads he meanders, a streak of black slipping between white pressed shirts.

Shined shoes file into buildings through glass doors and he wonders, if in another time you're hurrying in with them.

All the buildings look the same here, concrete mountains, unfriendly and overbearing.

He hopes you don't work in one of these.

He sits himself on the back of a bench when the streets turn more pedestrian, bakeries, cafes and mini marts lining the sidewalk.

The cool metal of the bench bleeds past dark denim and into the skin on the back of his thighs as he digs into the bag of brownies, squinting into the late morning sun he pulls his hair free shaking it out.

The woman on the opposing bench watches him and he gives her a tight smile, she looks away.

The next bus is late.

Of course it is.

The walk into school feels surreal enough without him rushing in late for classes.

It's some kind of ironic fuck you from the universe that the best steady source of income he's got means he’s back in the hallways of a high school 3 days a week.

He pulls at the creases in his shirt, formed in his bag over the course of the morning, swapped out for his hoodie on the bus ride over.

The tie around his neck makes him feel like he's choking.

The kids aren't bad, just, not as enthusiastic or interested as the home school kids, he can't blame them.

Pale walls and bright lights seem to suck out your soul while simultaneously spotlighting all your imperfections.

He hadn't wanted to be there at 16 either, still didn't a decade later.

They keep fucking about. Not listening and he doesn't mean to snap, but the fluorescent lights and noise are grinding on him quicker than he should let it.

He spends the time between lunch and after school classes pouring over the book in the teachers lounge while it's empty, drags his way through after school lessons then makes his way back to the city.

One more.

A standing appointment.

Within the city only a short walk from the bus station.

There's no Munson charm here.

He won't leave with brownies.

It's the most comfortable he's felt all day.

A shared acknowledgement of a long day is made over tired eyes as Ruth answers the door to the 5th floor apartment.

“Eddie's here.”

Lizzy, 13, spunky, and really fucking good.

She likes old school Maiden and is in love with Joan Jett.

She reminds him he's old every chance she gets.

Her mom can't really afford him and pays by the week, no block payments but she's never missed a lesson.

Change and creased notes scavenged and saved, are always waiting for him on the small kitchen counter when he leaves.

He picks up snacks on the way there, store brand candy bars and chips that he always forgets when he leaves.

It's a routine he savours.

A place he feels welcome with no pretence of being the help. An hour of playful jabs, jamming and laughter that drowns out the low hum of the radio.

Everything's dropped as soon as he passes the threshold of the door, his shoulders sagging as he walks heavily into the living room.

Late afternoon sun casts the far side of the room in shadows.

Popcorn and peanuts lay all over the floor.

His hands find his face and he lets out a frustrated moan into his palms as he turns and grabs the broom.

It's the bare minimum swept back into the bowl, gritty flakes and salt still peppering the green carpet

He can vacuum tomorrow.

The full coffee pot sits idle on the counter as he walks into the kitchen and his foot catches a crumb pile he made while he swept this morning

It didn't quite manage its way to the garbage.

It's overwhelming in the least intrusive way and he can't stand it.

He's done and the rattling quiet is making his thoughts tumble and run into each other.

Chores and bills and otherworldly bullshit.

It can all wait.

He collapses onto the couch, hair splayed out as he groans face down into the upholstery, legs stuck out at angles which will ache soon if he doesn't move.

The music’s turned up, drowning out the silence of his surroundings and the noise inside his head.

He should read, make more notes, clean, put away the cash sitting in his bag but instead he lets the music become a theme tune to his overactive imagination.

The sound of the door slamming into the wall announces your arrival home, reverberating around him and causing a grin to spread across his face from where his head hangs upside down off the couch.

The tape’s long finished and the energy to get up and flip it crawled out into the couch cushions a good half hour ago.

“Hello” your voice calls out and he purses his lips as it echoes out into the empty space.

“Eddie?”

That's louder, there's a distant sound of something being dropped to the ground with a dull thud, then your movements become clear.

He manovers himself silently upright.

You're mumbling to yourself, some kind of list and he can imagine you infront of him at your kitchen counter.

With a stretch of his arms he cups his hands around his mouth.

“Warning! Warning! ”

The choked scream you let out is followed by the clatter of cans and his responding cackle has him falling back against the couch, soft pillows catching tired muscles as he grins.

“You fucking son of a bitch. Why?”

Your voice is breathy and he shrugs to himself.

“Couldn't find a bell. So next best thing.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don't.”

There's a pause and something stutters through him as he wonders if the impulse to fuck around with you was too much.

He's too much.

“How was work?”

It comes out quick, a little cracked and he winces as his words press into the empty air.

It reminds him of the first few days, when he thought that the loneliness was finally starting to mess with him.

“Fine.” You say finally, a small laugh in your voice that comes out in a huff, echoing and floating around him. “You?”

“Uh yeah, yeah good, got a new kid on the roster, got lunch out of it.”

“Lunch, how ingenuitive of you. How'd you manage that?” The yawn you let out disguises the last syllables of the words and it catches the muscles in his jaw.

“My unyielding charm” he says with his own, eyes falling closed.

He hears you snort.

“Just ‘cause I haven't turned it on with you.”

“Hmmm.”

He smiles and imagines you rolling your eyes.

Imagines that you're walking around the room.

“So scaring me half to death whenever I walk in isn't part of your unyielding charm. ”

The last few words are muffled by another yawn and his eyes open, staring at the ceiling with a small frown.

“You get back to sleep?”

There's a pause in your footsteps.

The obvious unconscious elephant in the room rousing.

“For a bit."

He nods his head chewing the inside of his cheek as he hears you resume doing whatever it is you're doing in the kitchen.

“I think I know why we end up there.”

He turns his head towards your voice, warped and disembodied its floating out from around the sideboard Paul left.

“ Yeah?”

“ Well not why, but how. Sort of?”

“Sounds like you cracked the case Columbo.”

“Shut up.”

He waves out into the open air and you proceed like you've seen him.

“We both fell asleep around the same time right? So, maybe we both have to be in the same sleep stage? We could both be in deep sleep or REM at the same time if we fall asleep at the same time. ”

“We sleep at the same time all the time.”

“ Yes, but we went to bed at the same time. ”

“I'm lost.”

You sigh and the clank of something metal being set down rings out.

“There's different stages to sleep, depending on how long you've been sleeping. If we go to sleep at the same time maybe we could test it.”

He quirks an eyebrow, smirk twitching at his lips. “You want to give me a bedtime”

“Yes.''

The resolute sound of your voice makes him break into a full grin and he withholds the puns which threaten to spill out.

Then the sickness comes wrapped in the memories of last night.

“If it's all the same to you, I'm not exactly excited about going back,” another yawn wracks him and he's thankful for it hiding the shake in his words. He lets his head lol to the side “I can't promise I'll stay awake anyway.”

“Rough day?” Your voice has lost any edge and he doesn't know why it makes his chest ache.

“Just, long.”

His stomach suddenly grumbles loud enough to hear and you laugh quietly. “I should probably eat before I pass out” he grimaces, hauling himself up with a groan.

“You making some sort of future food? Astronaut blocks, powder you stir into water that keeps you full all day.”

You laugh, and he stretches his arms above him smiling to himself.

“Lembas bread.” you quip.

D. RiPpp…

His eyes snap open, dust twisting above him dancing in a gentle light that nowhere provides.

The drip is always off on this side, garbled like it's been re-recorded so many times the edges of the sound have lost any clarity.

You're going to be so smug.

The dread hits him then, catches and settles in the pit of his stomach as he climbs out of bed and peers into the hallway shielding his eyes from the unwavering light at the end.

There's a fleeting fear that you might not be here this time, leaving him to navigate the nightmare alone.

It makes his feet move a little quicker, over the disarray and dirt that clings to the world around him. The items from his life sitting amongst it all like pristine placeholders for when he'd finally checked out for the day.

You're standing at the threshold to your bedroom door when he makes his way through.

Biting at the side of your thumb with a small frown as you glare at the darkness in front of you.

You look tired, clothes wrinkled and posture leaning awkwardly.

“So, this is when you gloat, yeah?”

You startle a little before a triumphant grin spreads on your face.

“I told you.”

“I never said you were wrong.” He scratches at his neck looking over the room. “So what now?”

Your grin dies and you turn away from him, taking tentative footsteps edging around the black.

He wishes he wanted to move, but he doesn't, he's rooted to the floor, watching you.

He can just about see the kitchen floor, it's completely black, indistinguishable between the darkness and the liquid that's now merged with it, slowly soaking out onto the carpet that borders where the linoleum should be.

You're leaning in, you're so close to it.

He swallows.

“I've been reading up, about where we might be.”

“You have?” you look at him over your shoulder and he manages a step forward .

“You're not the only one who can investigate and shit.”

He squirms internally under your gaze wondering if you can see his heart pounding, eyes flicking to the shadows.

Nodding his head behind him, he moves back as soon as you start to approach, slipping behind waves of light as you follow.

Thank fuck.

“D&D? “

You say face unconvinced as he waves his hands out with a flourish to the books that lay haphazardly at the end of his bed.

“What?”

“I was just kind of hoping for something. Real.“

His face falls and he looks at you eyes slowly moving to the light which now pours in through a dark window.

You press your lips into a hard line nodding to yourself. “Fair point.”

He settles onto the end of the bed pulling the book onto his lap and opening his notepad. Pages decorated in scrawl, page numbers circled, words underlined.

“So there's a few planes that match stuff here, but the cosmology of planes just makes sense, like the overlaps and- ”

His eyes flick up to where you stand, wide eyed and staring.

“Lost?” he asks and you nod your head stepping towards him.

“Shit. Okay.”

You come to sit beside him.

“Where'd I lose ya’”

You wince “The beginning?”

You smell like the cold, like when Wayne would come back home on early spring mornings, the world still dark, bird chatter in the trees around the trailer.

It makes him homesick.

He tells you the basics: the idea of the planes, overlapping worlds, door ways of colours.

You're a good student, interested, asking questions.

Running off on tangents with him.

He explains the fey wilds and all the other worlds that he noted down messily as the bus swayed this morning.

“So what's the dark?”

He flips the pages, doodles of monsters and ghouls litter the page and he passes you the book.

The Abyss.

Sprawling desolate landscapes and figures shrouded in shadow stare back from the pages and he looks to you.

“Yeah that checks out.”

Your eyes scan the pages, taking in details about shades and fiends, creatures that suck the life from you.

He watches you absorb it all, then your eyes lift, staring at a spot on the other side of the room before you abruptly stand.

“Where are you going? Hey?” his arm shoots out grabbing your wrist. .

“To look at it, if it's a different place then -”

“Can we not, go stare into the dark caverns of hell tonight.”

He drops his grip on you, hand scrubbing over his face.

“Don't you want to know if there's something in there? “

“It hissed and made screeching sounds that made my lungs feel like they were going to explode. I think it's a damn safe bet something in there.”

Your face softens a fraction, eyes moving to watch where his leg is bouncing and he slaps a palm to it in an attempt to steady it.

“Okay.”

You offer the book back to him and he takes it sceptically.

“Okay?”

“We know how to get here now, it can wait.” You say with a shrug.

He watches as you come to sit back on the bed leg tucked up under yourself.

“So, what now dungeon master?”

He lets himself fall backwards onto the bed and you look down at him expectantly as he waves the book at you.

“Roll for initiative?”

The only noise that echos is the drip, the sound curls then dodges around rays of light and distended furniture until it dissolves into the black.

Your muffled laughters hidden away behind walls of light, his responding grin concealed by its gentle movements which roll and flutter.

The next drip falls without a sound, a spark of light blinks behind crumbling plaster.

The abyss starts to move.

Tag list: @munsonburn3r @winchester-angel @kellsck @valhallavalkyrie9 @em0220

@sheneedsrocknroll92 @strangersmunsons @hellfirenacht

Let me know if you would like to be added <3

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x afab reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #joseph quinn #knock knock #my writing #Spotify

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jo-harrington · 8 months

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Dearest, wonderfulst of them all. I'm coming in here with a monster tucked under my arm.

The Manticore. Please. It's one of my favourite beasts.

<3 <3 <3 for you.

Somna!!! Ok this one I was noodling for a while because I was like “ok. Ren faire ren faire ren faire.” And it was gonna be really special and a little grandiose (I was feeling a type of way with the end of summer.)

But the thing about Eddie and this OC (or Reader character if you’re not reading the series) is that they find heaven in the most simple places together. They find it in each other.

So I hope you enjoy this one. It's not big angsty, it's just a little soft silly thing. Big kisses for you my love.

Find Hymns of Heaven here.

And find the Master List for As Above, So Below here.

August 1984

“So what are we looking for again?”

“Rick's birthday is coming up so anything Green Bay Packers—”

“Ew.”

“—and maybe some flannels for Wayne. How about you?”

“Maybe some books. Some records for the both of us?"

"No Van Halen though."

"I swear to God," you muttered under your breath. "I mention them one time."

"Hot for Teacher is a bullshit song and you know it," Eddie grinned mischievously as he slammed the door of the van shut.

He knew just what it took to get under your skin sometimes; pick at the tiniest throwaway thing you'd say and turn it into a whole to-do. Keep pushing and pushing until you tried to tell him off because then he'd get to emphasize "but you love me" until your hard stare turned soft and you'd agree because...you did.

You did love him. Loved him for all the good things and the bad; loved him because he was an idiot.

He was your idiot. Proudly.

Today, though, was not about mischief.

You were both on a mission.

You'd driven all the way up to Fort Wayne for the Allen County Flea Market at the Fairgrounds. It was a once-a-month event where hundred of people brought their prized possessions, their antiques, and their trash to try and offload it for as much cash as possible. And he had plenty to spare, after he'd made his appearance at all of the end-of-summer parties that had been thrown by everyone of college-going-age in the tri-county area.

So why not have a little day out, treat the most important people in his life to something nice, if...a little worn. Worn was ok.

He was a little worn too. So were you. And Wayne and Rick. His friends. He'd never felt such a sense of belonging as he did with all of you. All sorts of pieces that seemingly didn't fit together or belong...that had been patched together to create something epic. Unstoppable.

His family.

After perusing a few booths together, you parted ways to hunt for your own treasures, and he greedily accepted the soft farewell kisses you pressed to his lips.

One, and then another for the road, and a third for good luck.

He prompted it, but it was typically your saying as you stole a few smooches before you left him for the night or for work, and hearing him say it made you beam brightly.

It made him glow from deep within.

Once you were out of sight, he clapped his hands and let destiny take him where it would.

Got a couple things for himself and Wayne, enough that he could convince his uncle that they didn't need to go back to school shopping for much of anything outside of the obvious pens, pencils, and notebooks from Kmart. No new shoes or shirts.

He could keep the that overtime pay from the plant tucked away for a rainy day, or maybe fix the heater on his car that he'd been hemming and hawing about since February.

He even found Wayne a sturdy denim jacket with a suede collar that, he was sure, would be perfect once the cool weather rolled in.

He got Rick's birthday gift and continued to peruse the booths along his path, finding a few useful items along the way: a coil of guitar strings still in the packaging, a set of cooking knives that might have been chipped and dull but still probably more useful to cut vegetables with than the set of steak knives that were tucked away in a kitchen drawer back home, and a plan black sweatshirt with some moth holes that could, realistically, be saved by some strategically placed band patches.

He had been contemplating whether he was willing to endure your wrath if he surprised you with a copy of Women and Children First from a pile of old vinyls--

A grander gesture would be to convince the guys to add Could This Be Magic to the setlist of Corroded Coffin 2.0's first outing at the Hideout. Jeff could test his mettle on acoustic and Eddie could dedicate the song to you.

--when he found the jackpot.

It was a dusty book with worn edges, title on the front cover printed in a heavy gothic script and embossed with gold foil.

A Modern Bestiary for the 20th Century by Professor Hellen Magnus and Doctor Pellinore Warthrop

Eddie's hand shot to it immediately, intrigued, and he spent a good few minutes flipping through the pages. He vibrated as he went page by page, eyes scanning over one creature or another.

Harpies and gargoyles and sea serpents.

He thought of all the Hellfire sessions that would benefit from this book. It really felt like an ancient tome with all of the scientific diagrams and breakdowns of each creature's skeleton, brief summaries of associated myths, and place of origin. References to other books that he made a mental note to ask about at the library.

And then, right in the center of the book, there was a fold out spread that featured a full color illustration of a Manticore.

His favorite.

He'd seen it in a book about heraldry once upon a time when he created a Munson Family Crest for the Middle Ages unit in 6th Grade History. And he'd been obsessed ever since.

The ultimate protector and most dangerous foe with the head of a human and the body of a lion, and a venomous scorpion tail. Symbolizing undefinable strength and power. So it was funny, how he had been thinking of the way his family was patched together earlier when this was waiting for him just hours ahead.

Fate was funny that way.

And funnier still...when he drew his eyes across the page once again and saw, scribbled in the corner in...colored pencil or crayon...he couldn't say for sure...was your name.

"No..." he squinted and pulled the page closer to his face. "Can't be."

It was a child's handwriting for sure, wobbly and unsure, but that was you.

For a second, Eddie didn't even...consider the implications of this being your book or how the book ending up here of all places. Stranger things had happened. Fate worked inn mysterious ways and all that.

He just felt...triumphant.

"Finally I'll get a leg up on you sweetheart," he said as he dug into his pockets for the cash to buy the book. "No more telling me about mysterious monsters and creatures. I'll know more than you soon enough."

You found Eddie sitting in the back of the van after you finished your shopping, the tote bag that you had the foresight to bring with you overflowing with books and records and even a rolled up poster that you were sure he'd like for his bedroom. His legs were crossed and he was flipping through the pages of a book that vaguely looked familiar to you.

"So, success?" you began to announce your presence. Eddie jumped a bit, startled and he shoved the book off to the side. You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. "What? Is that like...some like...weird book with sex positions in it or something? Studying to surprise me later or..."

"No! Well...studying yes, but not...I mean if you wanna..." he trailed off and raised his eyebrows suggestively. You slapped the back of your hand against his arm and laughed. "No, it's just this really interesting book I found. I'll tell you all about it on the drive back."

"Ok," you marveled at his enthusiasm. "I can't wait to hear all about it."

You dumped your bags in the back and slammed the doors shut as Eddie did his typical gentleman's act by racing around to open the passenger's door for you.

He bowed deeply and kissed the back of your hand, luxuriating in your giggles.

You wouldn't be laughing for long.

Once he was settled behind the wheel and he was sure of the directions back to Hawkins, he got the most devious look on his face. Positively devilish. His head dropped lazily to his shoulder and he dragged his eyes from the road to look at you.

"So, sweetheart, angel, cheese on my burger, love of my life," he buttered you up. "Tell me what you know...about The Manticore."

#aasb #as above so below #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #hymns of heaven

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thirsty-boba-fett-posts · 1 year

Note

Okay. Let me just dump this out of my head with love ♥ I'm sure there'd be a lot of spicy entries, so I hope some fluffy ones are welcomed too. I'm in a post care mood lol. - ♝

Concept:

Post being absolutely wrecked by Boba because he loves you so damn much and you feel absolutely heavenly, you're sore and sensitive with so much praise and pleasure. That you've been such a good impact on his life, he can't keep his hands off you even after feeling that post-destroymepls session sensitivity.

He also thinks the pp is cute and proceeds to kiss it and find it adorable how you writhe even at slightest of touch. You also wake up from naps with scribbles on certain parts of your body. Either his name "Boba's", "Boba was here", "mine", "bite at -inserttimehere-', among other things.

Casually makes suggestion of getting your hair cut or set in a way that would best look on how he'll take you out loud and in public. Absolutely no shame in telling you "how a bun suits you when you're sucking him dry" or how "braids make me want to -insertmoredirtytalkinghere-".

Itty bit of somna because hey, waking up only to be dicked own with love is the definition of "good morning". - ♝

LET’S GET NASTY.

tw: smut, Daddy Daimyo kinky, somnophilia, possessive!Boba

PARTY UNDER THE CUT

There is very little left in the galaxy with the power to fascinate Boba Fett, but finding you nearly naked and fast asleep in his bed is certainly an enticing little late night surprise.

The two of you are still getting to know each other - intimately and emotionally. Both of you have developed different mechanisms for keeping others at arm’s length. Boba is dangerous and restrained, you’re prickly and cool.

A graphic, frightening nightmare sent you to his bed one moonless night. Strategizing with Fennec kept him up late and by the time he made it up the stairs to the tower, it was past midnight and you were deeply asleep.

Boba cannot resist running the tips of his fingers up your calf and the back of your thigh. When he reaches the hem of your sleep shift, he feels the soft fabric between his thumb and forefinger before lifting it to expose your soft, round ass.

You stir and he rubs comforting circles in the small of your back. Boba Fett loves a round, dimpled ass and thick thighs. He loves a girl who looks like she could sit comfortably on a Bantha from sunrise to sunset.

He straddles your thighs so he can bend over and knead the flesh of your buttcheeks with both hands. He bites down hard and sucks on each of your meaty cheeks.

You moan softly. Boba loves how pliable you are like this, barely awake and vulnerable. Your sharp wit dulled by exhaustion, your smart mouth bridled by need.

Something must have upset you for you to have invited yourself into his bed. You’re so fierce and intractable, Boba knows that any biddability you’re willing to offer should be generously rewarded. Taming brats, he knows, is just as much about providing a soft place to land as it is a strong disciplinary hand.

You blink and begin to wake. Boba Fett allows you to turn over onto your back and then leans down to suck on one of your nipples through your sleep shift.

He moves to spread your legs with his knees and pushes the shift up over your breasts so that he can more thoroughly enjoy them with his mouth and hands.

You’re still hazy with sleep and settle into the pillow. Boba continues gently playing with your nipples until you reach out to take one of his hands in yours. He rubs your palm with his thumb and kisses the inside of your wrist.

You’re so drowsy and he doesn’t want to do too much to disturb you, but the feel of your warm skin, your soft breasts, your thighs - he’s not inclined to deny himself an opportunity to enjoy you.

You come to when you feel him sitting up between your legs and rubbing his hands up and down the tops of your thighs. You reach out for him and he guides your arms around his neck. His lips find your and he squeezes your thighs as he kisses you.

When Boba Fett enters you, it stings as he fills you up and you suck in air between your teeth. The two of you don’t yet know each other’s bodies, and he stills inside you. He knows how thick he is and cradles your face in his hand while he pets your hair. He speaks softly to you in Mando’a.

The two of you have softened to each other since first meeting, but intimate experiences together are still novel and Boba knows that you need him to be kind and reassuring. You’ve allowed yourself to be vulnerable and he knows what that means, given your thorny nature.

He moves slowly inside of you, still whispering encouragement in Mando’a between kisses. You thread your fingers in his and he braces your hands above your head.

Your encourage him with gasps and moans and he finds himself thrusting into you in time with your breathing. You wrap your legs around him so that his hard cock can push deeper into you.

He nips gently at your neck and then bites down hard on your shoulder when he feels you spams around him. You’ll have bruises in the morning to show for all of this - he’ll make sure of it.

Boba pulls out of you and you whine at the sudden loss of the feeling of him so close to you. He shushes you reassuringly and guides you onto your belly. He pulls your hips upward and you feel the head of his cock pushing into you from behind.

You arch your back, giving him full access to you and he takes advantage gratefully. He kneads your ass as he thrusts into you. His fingers are bruising and you whimper and keen.

Boba reaches down and takes your hand, guiding it between your legs. “Touch yourself, mesh’la,” he says in a voice husky with pleasure. You do as you’re told and soon you’re both moaning as he pounds into you.

You climax hard as he grinds his cock into you He swears in Mando’a as he cums inside of you. He remains inside of you afterwards, running his fingertips up and down your spine. When he finally pulls out, he lays down next to you and pulls you tightly into him, spooning you and biting down on your shoulder.

You wake up with your head on his chest and your leg thrown over his waist. Boba kisses your forehead and pulls you closer.

You slide your way down his body, intending to pay him back for waking you up to make love to you by going down on him. Your hands find his erect member and you begin stroking him.

His fingers fist your hair and the firm grip on your scalp makes you gasp. His other hand pushes your hair out do your face.

“Mesh’la, your long hair is beautiful but I want to watch you take me into you mouth.”

You reach for a ribbon on the bedside table and twirl your hair into a messy bun.

He grips the bun as he cums down your throat and then pulls you by that same bun up to his chest so he can hold you.

Okay, so there’s going to end up being a Part 2.

@daimyosprincess

@nintendobl00d

@dukeoftheblackstar

@acatalystrising

@ladytano420

#boba fett x reader #boba fett thots #the book of boba fett #boba fett imagine #boba fett can get it #daddy daimyo

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dooxliss · 13 days

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I'D LOVE TO HEAR ABOUT YOUR SPLATOONS AND SOME BNHA OCS OF YOUR PICK!! also interested in dragon ball too ngl 👀

i hate tumblr so fucking much i was writing this up for an hour and it deleted

splatoon

i have a set of octolings since splat1 that i really like!

ringo, tako, octavia, mimi, quill, pan

but pan is gonna be revamped so i’ll figure out her deal soon

ringo tako octavia and pan are from octo valley

quill is from octo canyon

mimi is from the splatlands

i also have a budding splatband called out of shoal!

the lead is an octoling who came to the surface after hearing calamari inkantation and got paris syndrome so they made a punk rock band about it

there’s also a pencil urchin who is a vocalist and a shellback crab on drums :] might add a jelly as well

i want to make idols also. someday

bnha

here’s the main gang class 2-b!

(they were 2-a before horikoshi showed 2-a in the manga 💀)

my favorites of each row: atsuko kinzoku, koharu nakamoto, miku ueno, emiri abe

atsuko kinzoku (second to last, first row)—quirk melting point! with a touch of her hands she can melt any meltable object and consequently control that molten mess :] more extreme melting points are harder for her to do and cooling herself down can be an ordeal. she went to a dance school and was well versed in ballet before suddenly pivoting to u.a. and hero work. her hero name is tungsten!

koharu nakamoto (middle, second row)—quirk tear jerker! she can force people within a certain radius to experience certain emotions! she can do negative emotions much easier than positive, and these changes often make her feel the same way. she went to the same middle school as toga. she is also very into decora kei :^) did not give her a hero name oops but she is the magical girl hero

miku ueno (last, third row)—quirk sleepy sheep! her hair is actually clouds that when used makes the target extremely drowsy. as a drawback she herself is also rather sleepy most of the time :( her first hero name is bo sleep, with a themed outfit, but after she graduates and the nature of her work changes, she becomes somna

emiri abe (second, last row)—quirk animate! emiri has charcoal like pads on their fingers, which allows her to draw. once a drawing is completed, it can come to life and then be used as a tool. effectiveness is tied to how clear a drawing is. the medium is water resistant but can be washed away. emiri’s hair is naturally blonde but is more ash colored because of how often they put their hands in their hair 💀 in public, emiri wears gloves. hero name ani!

(bonus! hideyoshi maki + kanon katou)

hideyoshi (second, top row)—quirk lucky lottery! he has bands on his arms and marks on his face that appear when good things naturally happen to him. as its stored, he can then expend them to sort of force events to happen as long as there is a chance of it happening. less likely events requires him to spend more luck. it is also automatically used to keep him out of harms way. unrelated to his quirk, he has doll like limbs :^) he’s the lucky hero—chance!

kanon (right of emiri)—quirk stereo! she gains super speed and strength depending on the qualities of the music she listens to! she is also emiri’s gf :] kanon has vitiligo as well, which is being hidden at that point in time. she fails the hero license test going against her older sister kotone and partner chiyo, who go to seiai academy, but eventually gets her shit together and becomes the wabisabi hero—shuffle 👍🏽

dragon ball

i had several saiyan ocs (maiz, kohn, aspara, pumpki, etc) when i was in hs but i havent drawn them since so here are the ones i have!

nati (from naticidae, genus of moon snail) and kitsu (from tsuki, moon) are my namekian ocs! they are bonded in the same was dende and cargo were.

unfortunately they died in the namek saga, and were later revived on earth. during that wait for the namekian dragon balls to be used again, they explored earth and decided to then explore the rest of universe 7 to see what’s out there :D

nati is a dragon clan namekian! they have a shitty keychain esque set of dragon balls that aren’t capable of much besides wishing for the return of a lost sock. they think its cute but don’t use them often because of the hassle of collecting.

kitsu is a warrior clan namekian! he died protecting nati on namek and as a result has become very guard dog-y regarding them. you know how it is. was initially reluctant about not going to namek with his brothers.

i’m still waffling about who but while hopping from planet to planet one of them gets gravely injured to the point where fusion was the only option available to them. as a result this fused namekian has extreme survivors guilt and is reluctant to return to namek. (though they may eventually do to see if porunga can unfuse them)

since we know that zeno erased like 6 universes before the universe survival saga i wanted to make a set of ocs from one of those erased universes (god of destruction, angel, supreme kai). i did not get far in that all tho 💀 only designed the angel and i don’t think they have a name. but i probably wouldve named them kesa (from sake, doubleish meaning with the negative conjugation of kesu, to erase)

#lakimusings #gari answers #mutual chatter #gari’s ocs #squid thoughts #bnha hours #real dragon ball hours #that genuinely ruined my mood #its 4am i don’t want to spend another hour writing this #if anyone wants to learn more i might be able to remember what i said in the first place #but i did have a lot more about my splat ocs written. i just got tired #oh yeah i wanted to add fun facts about some of them #miku originally had a different quirk entirely called weather cloud #i remembered this when combing through to make sure i wasn’t missing anything re: quirk description but she used to have #a kind of laktiu-like quirk #her current quirk is named after the paper mario item and the japanese name i figured out also just straight up uses the same japanese name #but i like cloud 9 as a name also. conflicted #kanon’s quirk also allowed her to control elements instead but i thought that was too complicated #kotone’s quirk only makes her faster with music and chiyo has an ant quirk (small + ant strength)

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ichangenameseveryfiveseconds · 1 month

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Ok I've come to mention it in some posts but time to actually explain it

MY ABYSS. thing. Idk.

It's where my children(the abyssals, they're called in canon) live

It has. Regions. And yes that is inspired by rain world. We have the following regions: Wrath, Dream, Village, Tech, Sunlit, Deeper, Flood, Mind, Space, Base, Entrance, Flora, Famine.

Some regions are ruled by certain Abyssals.

Almost all the regions are made with a certain effect in mind, which are the following:

Wrath region: :Kill or be Killed' - a very dangerous region, where every creature located in it is passively more aggressive than usual, the danger not being helped be eased with the many weapons scattered around by the ruling Abyssal: Carnage, Great 5th.

Dream region: 'Dream peacefully' - the second smallest, and objectively the most peaceful region, every creature inside is passively more tired, and with the many comfortable resting spots is the perfect place for a nap. Bonus add-on is that it is impossible to dream a nightmare in this region unless not in favor of the ruling Abyssal: Somna, Great 8th.

Tech region: 'A little interest' - A vast difference from all of them other regions, being a complex facility rather than the cave system. The smallest region, yet the one with most in it. The effect raises curiosity in any creature in the facility. Almost all of them equipment is made by the ruling Abyssal: Code, Great 2nd.

(Xero you'd love it here there's so much technology)

Sunlit region: 'Sunshine all around!' - As you would expect, almost the entire region is lit by "suns" floating around the region. The effect is that every creature is able to photosynthesize, no matter what they are. Don't ask how. Ruled over by two abyssals: Dawn, Great 6th and Sunset, Great 7th. The two are twins.

Deeper region: 'The deepest you can go' - just like the effect says, it's the deepest you can go. The usual cave system with plenty of food and places to rest. Good place to camp! No actual effect, but If you search deep enough, you may find a lake. I live there canonically. Yep. I rule over the region. Going to the lake means breaking the 4th wall.

Flood region: 'A natural swimmer' - Most of the region is flooded as hinted in the name. The effect makes any creature be able to breathe underwater(it isnt actually water it's just liquid abyss) as well as webbed hands (if the creature has hands). Ruled over by Ocean, Great 4th.

Mind region: 'Think a little deeper' - You will get free therapy here. I'm not even kidding. The effect makes any conscious creature question their actions, emotions, morals and if it is there, trauma. Ruled over by Noir, Great 3rd.

Space region: 'A little less pull' - exactly what you expect. It's themed after space. The effect is just less gravity. Not a really built-up region, because it is rather new. Ruled over by Star, Great 9th.

Flora region: No effect. - basically just a lot of plants. A bitch(evil plant overlord, she killed Boo qnq) used to live here, she's dead now, thank abyss. Not ruled over by anyone.

Entrance region: No effect. - not really a region but I like to include it. The entrance/only exit to the abyss. Not ruled over by anyone.

Base region: 'Welcome to the abyss.' - The region closest to the Entrance, lays a base for everything in the abyss. Ruled over by Void, Great 1st.

Village region: No effect. - While not originally a region, it has been deemed one due to being home to the largest settlement of mimics in the entire abyss, forming a large village if not a small city of just little guys... Not ruled over by anyone, but all the Abyssals check on this place from time to time.

Famine region: 'Everpresent hunger' - sighhhhhh. It's just like you would expect. Little to no food. I chucked stams Castor in here and he got cannibalism. Effect is basically little nightmares 1 hunger. Not ruled over by anyone, this is no man's land.

I'd explain more but I'm lazy, so LATERRRR

#soul posts #soul's abyss #can you tell i get more tired while writing this

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deadboyfriendd · 3 months

Text

Rules: the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there’s a pattern!

Thank you for the tag, Somna! @somnambulic-thing

The thing they don’t mention when you hit Interstate 10 heading westward through Tucson is: there is a vast expanse of nothingness you have to clear first. (In My Hands, from the Wild Horses universe)

On this day, you wore white. (Cochise: Laudanum)

Edward was a man of repose, though, in your sadness, you’d figured you’d been, too. (Cochise: Tango)

To put it bluntly, the Harrington Family Christmas Extravaganza was a vapid and obnoxious display of money and status. (Mele Kalikimaka)

Few knew your village by name, but many had heard of the terrible things that had happened there. (Stone Gothic)

You were sullen, eyes unable to focus on any one speckle of the countertop in front of you. (Stains in the Granite)

The morning is nonetheless blistering, no qualms of early warmth and birds singing. (Cochise: Mudsill)

When the dust blew in from the East, Hell came with it. (Cochise: Nellie)

Eddie isn’t in college, but he sells drugs at college parties. (Video Girl)

This was a ridiculous existence. (Sockpuppet)

I purposefully didn't include the bisbee letters or the one Science Fiction Double Feature drabble I did because 1.) they're not full-length fics and 2.) this entire list would have just been the letters. But that is literally a year of fic writing for me wrapped up into 10 sentences.

#tag games #flea's friends

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somnambulic-thing · 2 months

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sometimes I get the urge to just post all of the first chapters in my drafts but then I know the possibility that something in the plot later on could change the chapter would need adjusting in some way would haunt me in my sleep. even though I KNOW I'll NEVER finish all of the shit in my wip folder. not even close.

anyway

#Somna talks #but I think at some point I'll just post some unfinished things from my graveyard folder #I know plenty people hate reading unfinished fics but there are always those who appreciate fragments too for what they are #again: anyway

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sheizara · 2 years

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November 25 - Day 6 Home / Unnatural

Her half-brother hadn’t been a kind man. Not to her, at least. She’d been the potential heir for that family before he was born, and she knew it irked him how their father had doted on her up until he died and passed his titles on to his trueborn son — bastard daughter or not.

Their estate was large and beautiful, sprawling in the Eversong river valley. Halandir, she knew, felt the pressure of being the “last of his line”. Technically not, though, because Shei had always been right there, too. Working in the halls rather than living in them. His home, not hers. To him, she and her parents had just been the Silverbells — there to serve, but for little else.

Moving to Stormwind, she thought, would be a fine escape. After they had been kicked off the estate lands and, presumably, erased from record of ever having lived there so that Hal could look as pristine as possible for his new, well bred wife, her parents had joined the Farstriders. They were still young enough and could make a living defending the kingdom up until it killed them, too, many decades later. Quel’thalas had nothing left for her, and high elves were welcome enough in some of the other kingdoms.

It had been an age. She had watched this human city grow and be destroyed and rebuild and become more cosmopolitan as it became a kind of capital for the various Alliance races. And still, seeing the elegantly printed ‘Lady Tel’vaiel’s Birthday Masquerade’ invitations tacked to the billet boards soured her whole day.

Some darkly curious part of her wanted to attend, finally maybe meet the woman that had been the cause of a serious amount of general unpleasantness in her life. Had Hal ever told her? Had he been cruel to her too? Did they have children? Who was left there that she’d worked with, especially after the siege? She missed Johar and Vyarha, who would let her sneak sweets from the kitchen, and Olanne, Dania and Somna who were most often on cleaning duties with her.

That first year she chickened out. The dress and mask stayed boxed under her bed in her small human style apartment. It was too much to think about and every time she thought about it the bitterness threatened to overwhelm her.

The second year she went and stuck to the fringes. Well, she’d tried. There had been so much free alcohol and so many people hidden behind masks to dance with and talk to that she’d been swept up in all the lavish splendor. This had all been denied to her. Nobody had anything unkind to say about the hostess herself. Her half-sister-in-law, for all she could tell, was charming and winsome.

Lady Fiorenze Tel’vaiel had spent all this money to throw a grand party that anyone could attend two years in a row now, all the conversations she listened in on or questions she asked about the woman to dance partners glowed with praise. Someone told her that the Lady was a childless widow, and she puked in a bin out in a back alley shortly after.

It could’ve all been hers if she’d stayed in Quel’thalas. The Tel’vaiel titles were hers by birthright — but everything was so different now. The king and the prince were dead. Long live the Regent-Lord and whatever the fuck system they were following out there to keep the nobles happy. There wasn’t a chance in hell any claim she made would ever be honored — and after more thought seemed like it would just be putting herself back into a cage for no good reason.

That third year the affair was hosted, she’d managed a dance with her half-sister-in-law. She was charming and winsome as she had seemed from afar, almost unnaturally so. It was hard not to like her, weird as the whole situation was. Shei managed to successfully and secretly slip a letter into one of her pockets; nothing complicated, just a request for an audience here in Dalaran sometime. Tea, or whatever. Curiosity ate at her and she wanted to know so many things. Sure, the party was fun or whatever, but it was hard to think about anything else… well, until the wine tables refreshed.

The summons came shortly before Winter’s Veil, with a notice that if she couldn’t bring a lawyer one would be provided for her. That was certainly extremely ominous, but she knew a really great divorce lawyer she’d worked with a few times now and convinced him to come along with her for however many billable hours were needed.

They didn’t really have a long conversation when it came down to it. The lawyers were for a reason; Lord Iliphar Tel’vaiel, her father, had left her provisions in his will that Halandir never fulfilled, and some of the others at the estate had vouched for the accuracy of her existence.

Johar and Vyarha still worked in the kitchens. Somna and Olanne didn’t work in the main house anymore but had homes of their own on the estate lands. Dania had joined the Magistry at some point and had left the estate all together.

With the flick of a pen the Lady promised her that her inheritance would be paid, and that was more than enough for Shei.

@daily-writing-challenge

#novemberday62022 #novemberdwc2022 #sheizara

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bettyfrommars · 8 months

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Somna

a Nightmare Factory blurb

nightmare!eddie & Somna

@somnambulic-thing asked if they could have a job at The Nightmare Factory, and I was happy to oblige. I love these random blurbs with behind-the-scenes Eddie, and I hope to do more. We will see Somna again, in and around the workplace. My blog is 18+ but there aren't any warnings for this. wc: 671

“These things do not happen in dreams, my dear,' he said, vanishing up to his neck. 'They happen only in nightmares.' His head spiraled and he was gone.” - Marissa Meyer, Heartless

A nightmare expert named Somna was recently promoted to supervise set and clothing design after several others were demoted, and for good reason. The nightmares as of late were suffering from physically inaccurate descriptives of attire, for example: people in the late 1700’s did not wear acid wash denim, and zombies did not drive cars. A big part of the problem was that nightmare workers were encouraged by the last person in charge of the Simulation Machine to “bring their own clothes and props” and “wear whatever they wanted'.

An artist in their own right, Somna recoiled at the restrictive laws set in stone by the Nightmare Guild, and preferred to help the nightmares move intuitively, being open to the specific talent of the performer while setting the scene.

After almost a decade of employment, they’d been with that particular wing of the Factory for only a few days when Eddie showed up, knocking on the open door of the prop room to get their attention before disarming them with a sheepish grin and a wave.

They looked up from a miniaturized model of a town, complete with trees and buildings and tiny people, set on a large table in the middle of the space. They regarded him with curious eyes, fixing the nametag on the lanyard that hung around their neck. “Can I help you?”

Eddie was out of his work clothes now, back in his ripped black jeans and battle vest, he moved forward with a lightness about him, lifting up on the balls of his feet when he finally asked the question. “Somna, right?” He gave them a finger gun, and Somna mirrored it, not entirely sure why.

“That’s me,” Somna looked him up and down, unable to place him at first, but then, reality dawned. “Wait, aren’t you the one who learned how to bypass nightmare protocol? Almost gave Kevin a stroke?”

Eddie worked his jaw, eyes darting around the room, not sure if he should answer that.

“Your secret is safe with me,” they promised with a palm up as if to swear. “I’d just love to know how you did it.”

“I was just, determined, I guess,” he answered, raking a ringed hand through his hair, fluffing out his bangs. “I did a lot of research, cashed in on a lot of favors. Names Eddie, by the way.”

Somna waited for a beat, taking in his disheveled, endearing appearance. “Whoever you are doing this for, they must be very special.”

Eddie licked his lower lip, making cautious eye contact. “They mean everything to me.”

“Well,” the set designer exhaled, touched by his sincerity and determination. “I assume you need something from me?”

Eddie hadn’t expected this conversation to be so direct; he’d been ready to beat around the bush for weeks like he had with every other one of the higher up officials.

“I must tell you,” Somna crossed their arms over their chest. “I’ve been where you are before. I started out doing field work, and I fell for a Dreamer once.”

“Oh?” Eddie’s eyebrows raised and his curiosity piqued. He took a few steps forward, still separated by the realistic model of the Nightmare Town in between the two of them, and searched their eyes, anxiously. “What happened?”

Somna tried to smile, but then it broke and became something else; a hard lip line swallowed by a clearing of their throat. “I gave up, I guess. I just didn’t think it was possible to turn it into anything…real.”

Eddie lowered his eyes, unwilling to accept that as a reality for himself.

“But, I will help you, if I can,” Somna offered, waiting until he raised his chocolate eyes; they were shining hopeful from under full lashes. “I’ll help you make up for the time that I’ve lost with the one I should be with.”

There was a bittersweet moment there where the two became instantly connected in a friendship of shared longing and sorrow, and Eddie would henceforth have a valuable ally for the rest of his time employed as your lovesick ghoul at the Nightmare Factory.

#the nightmare factory #nightmare!eddie #Somna🧡#Eddie Munson fluff #Eddie Munson series #Eddie Munson fanfiction

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jezabatlovesbats · 2 years

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Rewriting The Pi'illos

I don't really have a lot of ideas for Eldream, so he's not gonna be here.

- The Pi'illo’s society is more of an empire than it is a kingdom. There are three territories that make up the empire: Slumbera, Risincine and Oneiri. These territories are united under the emperor or empress of the Pi'illo empire, who is also the leader of Slumbera. Risincine and Oneiri are led by two leaders/monarchs who do not have the same amount of power as the emperor.

- Slumbera (slum-BEAR-a) is the "central state" of the empire. It is commonly known as Pi'illo Island nowadays (it's everything we see in Dream Team except for Wakeport). It has a variety of locations to see, from Mt. Pajamaja to Driftwood Shore. It has the most Dreampoints of the three areas. This is where the emperor or empress lives.

- Risincine (pronounced "rise and shine") is the territory on the Wake Isle. The people in the tourism industry made the Wake Isle a part of the main island when they built Wakeport on it. It is known for its bustling marketplaces, its bright street lights and its scholarly citizens. Most bedsmiths are from this state. It is led by a Pi'illo man named Wakenupe (pronounced "wakin' up").

- Oneiri (pronounced ah-NEHR-ee) is located on the mainland. In this day and age, it is called Zee Land because the territory is shaped like the Zeekeeper. It is named after Oneirius, one of the earliest Pi'illo emperors. It is home to misty cascades, pretty lakes, lush marshes and beautiful buildings. It is led by a Pi'illo woman named Somna.

- Pi’illo monarchs wear cases with a crown part that goes over their forehead. There’s a slot on the crown part with a dozite gem in it. This symbolizes that the ruler has a strong mind when it comes to dreaming, and they are a figure that their people can look up to.

- The Pi'illos used lots of vibrant colors in their art. They painted pictures of the real world, the dream world, their deities and more. Colors they would often use were the colors they saw in the dream world, like blue, pink, yellow and green. Purple is only sometimes used. They often used light shades of these colors.

- Black is considered a bad/unlucky color in Pi'illo culture because it's a color associated with darkness and nightmares. It's okay if you have black hair, though. They won't judge you for that.

- The Pi'illos were experts at creating things like beds and blankets. These were highly respected jobs in their culture.

- They were pretty technologically advanced. They built mighty machines such as Pi'illodium. Also, while they didn't have film or TV, they did have recorded sound.

- They have interesting folk tales, such as their famous origin story about Mother Rem (the first Pi'illo who, according to their beliefs, watches over everything and everyone while they sleep) and her magical bird (who became the Zeekeeper) creating a place for the Pi'illos to live based on what they saw in the dream world. They unearthed the Dream and Dark stones and used the Dream Stone to create the Pi'illos and all of the empire's creatures and locations. The Zeekeeper says that this story is actually true 'cause he was a part of it, but he hasn't seen Rem in forever.

- The Sandman is sort of the Pi'illos' version of King Arthur or Robin Hood. He's a popular fictional character in their folklore whose story is often told.

- Beneath their cases (the pillowcase things they wear on their heads), they have hair and very small ears. They also have these cone-like structures protruding from the sides of their heads like the edges of a pillow (these are a part of their skulls); they stick out of their hair.

- They wear their cases because this is good etiquette in their culture. It symbolizes how important sleep and dreams are to them. It's not acceptable for a Pi'illo to not wear their case when going out 'cause that's considered bad manners. Pi'illos are expected to have their cases on in front of others.

- The most common type of points on a Pi'illo's head are called the rectangular edges because, as I said, they make their head look like the edges of a pillow. Some Pi'illos have rare genetic traits for their points. As examples, some have only two points instead of the common four points. Others have "devil horns," where their top two points stick long and far upward. A few of them have "sideways tusks," where their bottom points stick long and far outward.

- Nightcaps are their traditional drinks. It’s common to see them drinking some every day, and they are used in Pi’illo cuisine. Pi’illo medics had their patients drink warm milk to help them get better. They also pour a nightcap for toasting at important events.

- Traditional Pi'illo music has a very gentle, quiet, and dreamlike sound to it. Because of this, they are very used to listening to soft music.

- Instruments they traditionally play include the harp, the celesta and the flute. They use hand bells and idiophones for backing percussion.

- Thanks to their enhancements of sound recording, they can alter the sounds of their music to make it sound more otherworldly.

- Lullabies are a very common type of song in their culture. They're quite sacred to them, too. One well-known specialist in lullabies is a Pi'illo singer named Dormira, whom I imagine sounding like Lorde for some reason.

- As mentioned before, sleep and dreams are very important to the Pi'illo folk. If you try to stay up past midnight or stay up all night when you're in the Pi'illo empire, you'll get in serious trouble because that's against Pi'illo law. If it's Pi'illo New Year, you can stay up past midnight, but you have to go to bed when the party's over.

- Some time after the events of Dream Team in my fanon, tourists were recommended not to visit the Pi'illo empire so that the Pi'illos would have the space and time they needed to adjust to their new surroundings. They are most open to the Mushroom Kingdom because of how Luigi and Mario saved them. Toads are going there to help the Pi'illos learn about modern life.

- Often, you'll hear them say "OMZ," which stands for "Oh my Zeekeeper" and is their version of saying "Oh my God." (Also, the letter Z is associated with sleeping, so it makes more sense.)

- The Pi'illos have their own traditions for celebrating the new year. They will dress up in traditional costumes that are the colors of the dream world, and they’ll celebrate all of the happy dreams that were dreamt during that year with singing, dancing, food and fireworks. They pop special kinds of fireworks that explode into aurora borealis-looking patterns. The bedsmiths will build giant statues of nightmarish figures that the people destroy and dance on the ruins of. Some people make wishes for something they would like to have or accomplish in the coming year (they used to wish on the Dream Stone for that). At midnight, somebody is picked to break open a thing that looks like the Zeekeeper egg. They will use the material in it to light a fire in the Zee Lantern.

- They have other holidays of their own besides Pi'illo New Year. A day they have called Hatching Day is basically the Zeekeeper's birthday since it celebrates the time he came into the world. There's also the Day of Awakening; this day is observed by the people of Risincine.

Prince Dreambert

- Dreambert has a younger sister. Her name is Dozelia, or Dozie for short. She is about 16, and Dreambert is about 25.

- He has straight brown hair beneath his case.

- Dreambert was born to Oneirius and Remadora, the emperor and empress of the Pi'illo empire and the leaders of Slumbera (or Pi'illo Island, whatever you want to call it). His father was named after the old Oneirius from long ago. In the present day (you know, our time), he and Dozie have lost both of their parents. The siblings, as well as the entire empire, lost Oneirius and Remadora in the war against Antasma. Did Antasma kill them? No, but a natural disaster that occurred during the war did.

- This means that Dreambert has to ascend to the throne sooner or later, but there is a LOT he has to take care of before he can do that. He needed to adjust to our industrialized world; there was a LOOOOOOOOOT he had to learn about, like our technological advancements. He was taught what he knows about governing in a completely different time period than this one, so like everyone else, he needs to get used to living in this time. On top of that, he needed to care for his people, learn to organize his military, set up a bank account, and look out for his sister. He also needed to deal with the tourism industry and how their plans were going to affect his people and their new homes. All of this is making him incredibly stressed out, but he is trying to find healthy ways to manage that stress. He is thankful that he has plenty of people around to help him, like Dozie, Eldream, Wakinupe, Somna, the Guardians, and Bedsmith, too.

- Dreambert is a very spiritual person. He enjoys listening to spa music, stretching and doing other calming things. (Good to know he's found calming hobbies like those.)

- He doesn't fully understand what television and film are.

- Dreambert is bisexual, but he hasn’t realized it yet.

- When Dreambert was seven, he and his father went camping in the woods. He was bitten by a purple bat in his sleep, and he didn't notice it until he woke up from an increasingly scary nightmare and saw it sucking at his arm. Since then, he's been afraid of bats. He hates them. He is absolutely sure the bat that bit him that night was Antasma.

- Dreambert doesn't dance much, but that doesn't mean he can't.

- Dozie is very, VERY precious to him. He loves her very much. If they went to Disney World, he'd take her to the Bippidi Boppidi Boutique to let her dress up as Snow White with no questions. (Snow would be Dozie's favorite Disney princess.)

- Dozie feels that Dreambert is a much better fit to become the ruler of the Pi'illo empire than her because he knows much more about government, speeches and diplomacy than she does. He was the one who learned about all of that. Dozie also already has a responsibility of being one of the five guardians of dreams. Dreambert is thankful that she tries to help him stay calm.

- Dreambert owns a charm in the shape of the Zeekeeper.

Bedsmith

- Bedsmith's actual name is Bedjamin.

- It is true that Bedsmith is viewed as one of the best craftsmen in the Pi'illo empire, and because of that, he is respected by his fellow craftsmen. However, he is a lighthearted person, and sometimes, he goofs off when on the job. He tries his best to focus on it.

- He learned everything he knows about bed building in his home state of Risincine; he was top of his class. He lives in Somnom Woods because he finds it a more peaceful place to work.

- Underneath his case, Bedsmith has light brownish hair that he doesn't cut often. It has a little bit of red in it if light hits it just right.

- He wears a vertical case because he has the "devil horns" trait, where the top two points on his head are long and stick upwards.

- Without his goggles, Bedsmith has very poor eyesight; he will squint at things a lot and have trouble with reading.

- Bedsmith is good friends with the five guardians of dreams, a team of noble warriors that protect the parts of the Ultibed and what they represent (they were mentioned earlier). When they're not busy, the six of them will meet up and have some fun together. One of them happens to be Dozie, so he tells her to tell her brother he said hi.

- Bedsmith has shown great interest in our music. After learning how to pay for things from the store with money, he bought a music player for himself, and now he'll listen to rock or disco while he works.

- Bedsmith is gay. He's always had it bad for Dreambert.

- He usually hears about what's going on through what other people are doing. In other words, he unintentionally eavesdrops, sometimes intentionally.

- Bedsmith would like Pokémon.

My Fanmade Pi'illo Origin Story

A very long time ago, when mammals and humanoid creatures started to emerge in the world, the Star beings in space created the first Pi’illo. But she didn’t look like what Pi’illos look like now. She was a goddess. She was taller, she had longer limbs, her legs had feet on them, her head was a little bit smaller, and she also had wings. Her name was Rem, and today, she is referred to by Pi’illos as Mother Rem. (By the way, she’s where Remadora’s name stems from.)

So Rem was walking and flying around the earth for a while, learning how to be, but then when she was exploring an island, she noticed a solitary bird egg at the top of a very tall tree. She flew up to it, and seeing as how there were no parent birds around to look after it, she decided to watch over it herself. One night, she fell asleep, and she had the best dream she’d ever had. It was beautiful, it was full of wonderful people, the grass was lush and green, and the sky was sunny and blue. When Rem woke up from that dream, she was surprised to see that the egg she was watching over had hatched. A large bird was flying over her. Rem didn’t know what was going on at first, but then she realized that this bird wanted to be her companion and that he had given her the dream. So she decided to be his companion, and one day, Rem discovered the dream world. She found out that she could disappear from the real world and go into a world created from dreams. She saw the amazing dream she had that night in there. She thinks that this means something, and then, she and the bird figure it out: they’re gonna make this dream a reality.

They didn’t know how they were going to do this at first, but then one day, they unearthed two stones from the ground. These stones were the Dream and Dark Stones. Rem was holding the Dream Stone, and she was thinking about how she wanted to bring what she saw in the dream world into the real world. The Dream Stone fulfilled her wish by creating the different areas of Pi’illo Island. This led Rem and her bird to use the Dream Stone to realize their ideas. They wished the Wake Isle, and they wished for dreamy places on the mainland as well. Then, they wished for their living beings. They wished for Pi’illos, they wished for Nommons, they wished for animals like Eldream’s rabbit. Through all the wishes they made, they gave the Pi’illos’ lands their special sleep power. When creating the Pi’illos using the stone, Rem and her bird decided to create them according to what the people looked like in Rem‘s dream. They looked pretty similar to Rem, but they were also very different. They had no feet on their legs, they were much smaller, they didn’t have wings like Rem did, and they floated instead of walked. The Pi’illos you see now look like that. But Rem also decided to get creative, so she created Mega Pi’illos. She wished that Pi’illos had the ability to go into the dream world because she wanted to share their power with them. She also took care of their lands for them and watched over them while they slept. The Pi’illos still didn’t know how to do anything, but they had a feeling of respect for Rem and her bird (which you could probably tell is the Zeekeeper). One day, somebody wished on the Dark Stone for a new creature, but this wish created evil beings.

So everything was going good, and Rem and her bird were watching over what they made, but then, Pi’illos started having nightmares. The evil beings started attacking. This put Rem, her bird, and their people in danger. The evil beings actually could gain power from their nightmares, and this caused Pi’illos to get sick and injured. (Just so you know, this was before the Guardians of Dreams. This was before the five attributes of good dreams were even recognized. This was in the Pi’illos’ earliest days, when they were still building up their society.) While Rem tenderly cared for the Pi’illos and helped them recover from their nightmare illnesses and injuries, her bird kept them out of danger and protected them.

Somewhere down the line, the evil beings started trying to steal the stones. The bird made a wish of his own on the Dream Stone, and that wish was for people to be able to defend themselves in the dream world, whether they were dreaming or if they were actually in the dream world. Not just Pi’illos, but any being at all. (This explains why Luigi was able to grow huge in his dreams.) Maybe at some point, they had to fire their Wakebeam to free some Pi’illos that were encased in some kind of barrier or something. Their efforts to keep their people safe are what earned the pair the titles of Mother Rem and the Zeekeeper. As the Pi’illos’ culture flourished and they claimed all their territory, they came to worship them as deities. Maybe the pair crowned the first Pi’illo emperor. I don’t know. Rem and the Zeekeeper looked down on their people one day and told them that they had to guard the two stones with their lives because they were very important.

Today, the Zeekeeper says that he hasn't seen Rem in forever. In my mind, she ascended to whatever spiritual realm a goddess like her would live in while he stayed in the real world.

#Mario franchise #Mario & Luigi #Mario & Luigi: Dream Team #Prince Dreambert #Bedsmith #ocs #oc #Pi’illo

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