#;strange how you can be living your dreams and your nightmares at the same time | visage🌹

[maledictus-maleficus]

Tag dump!

[yeyinde]

(sighs dreamily) i loooove the way you write fucked up and gross simon. the size kink and somno drabbles have been living rent free in my mind for almost two weeks now. the recent stalker piece was also so deliciously terrifying, i actually had a dream/nightmare today that was a mixture of stalker!ghost and not-dog!soap 😭

are you planning on writing any more for either of those?

ahhh thank you!!!! this had me wondering how i could maybe blend the two and this happened.

stalking. HEAVILY implied noncon somno. size difference.

Simon decides your dog, your baby, needs a man in the house. and since you like to call yourself his 'mama,’ then it’s only right that he becomes the daddy both of you need.

Your dog does not like strangers.

He's a rescue and the sort of life he lived until now, until you, is mostly a mystery. You found him on a rainy day, panting under your awning - a gnarled mess of matted fur glued to bone. Too skinny to survive another winter. You took him in right away and gained his trust. His love. But whatever he had left to spare (lots, it seems) is strictly reserved for you. Everyone else is a threat, a worry. Even the vets he's known since you found him all those years ago still get the same wary glances, the same growls then they lean in too close to whisper something in your ear.

He's just—special. The sweetest thing ever when it's just you. Your baby. People joke—slightly nervous—that he treats you like his mother. Following you closely with his big, glossy eyes tilted up to stare at you. Loving. Cuddly. Rests his big head on your lap at night with a great, big sigh. Tired from a long, hard day of protecting his house from squirrels and the stray delivery driver.

But when it comes to others—anyone, really—he’s aggressive. Territorial. All the vets and trainers say that it's his breed. That he just needs to be trained. Exposure therapy. Behavioural. And it works for all of two weeks before he's back to his stubborn self. Snapping at anyone who gets too close to you.

You post warnings on your fence. Your front door. Take precautions when you walk him. Warn anyone who gets close that he doesn't like anyone. Full stop. No exceptions. And it works. Helps ease the stress. He still goes to therapy. To training lessons. But he's smart enough to trick them into thinking he's learning.

And it's fine. People can't get too close to you. To his house. His territory.

Or so you thought.

But he's been acting strange lately.

You caught him barking at something through the fence a few months ago; spittle flying from his muzzle as his lips peeled back, snarling and vicious. If the fence wasn't reinforced, you think he would have broken it down to get at whatever was behind it.

It continued like this for a few days. Each time you went to check and see what was there, all you find is littered cigarettes. The teenage son of your neighbour, you think. He likes to hide in the dense woods so his parents can't find him. You'll talk to him about it later. Ask if he can do it a little further away from the fence so he isn’t disturbing Baby. 

As the days grow, his growls and snarls diminish before stopping outright. In the interim, your unease grows.

It's small—at first. 

He wants to be outside more. Always whining at the back door, scratching at it with his paw. When you let him out, he runs right to that spot by the fence. Sits down, and just stares. When you go out to look, there's nothing there. Just a dark, sprawling coppice. Cigarettes on the ground. But something catches his attention. Keeps it. Holds it.

He leads you to that spot sometimes, too. Nudges you with his big, furry head to your thighs. Shepherding you to the fence, and then sits back, clearly preening. Proud.

"You're mama’s silly boy, aren't you?" you coo, scratching his ears. It must be the neighbour. Maybe a stray deer wandered by. You catch a flash through the tree line. Twin puddles of black peering through the tangled weeds. Your dog perks up, looking towards it. A deer, you think. A stray buck. You huff, patting his head. "Made a new friend, huh?"

But you can't shake the feeling that something else is out there. That something is staring at you.

Nothing, you tell yourself, fighting off a shiver. It's fine. Fine. He sneaks off at night sometimes. You hear him playing in the hallway. Wandering around the house. The tack-tack-tack of his nails against the hardwood as he walks back to your bedroom lulls you back to sleep. You feel the bed dip. Something warm against your back. You sigh, melting into the sheets—

There's nothing to worry about.

He'll protect you.

But the next morning, you find him locked outside. The patio door shut. The deck is dried from the sun, but his fur is wet. It rained last night. You drifted in and out to the patter of it on your window. The soothing weight of his body curling around you—

He must have gotten out in the morning. Rolled around in the grass. But when you put him in the tub later to scrub the rainwater off of his cost, his belly is dry.

It's nothing. He was in bed with you last night. It's fine. Fine. Everything is easy to explain away as coincidence. Nothing usual. The feeling of being watched. The missing food from your fridge. The creaks of the old house at night. Things shifting around—keys missing only to turn up somewhere else. Rodents chewing through your landline. 

The panties you shed, tossing into a corner before getting into the shower going missing—

They’re just—lost in the wash. You must have thrown the leftover food away when you cleaned earlier and forgot. The lingering scent of cigarettes. Smoke in your bed. The cloying scent of loam, humus. Fresh dirt. The stains on your bed. The strange smear in the gusset of your panties when you peel them apart.

Something thick, firm between your thighs—

Fine. You tell yourself. Everything is fine. At best, it's a gas leak. At worst—well.

Baby will protect you. 

Always. 

But the next day, he brings his favourite toy to the back door, asking to be let out, and this isn't—

It's not normal.

He's possessive over his toys. Keeps them on his daybed and refuses to let anyone touch them. Only you. He doesn't bring the. Outside, either.

But when you peer outside a few minutes later, the toy is lying by that spot near the fence. He's sitting down, tail wagging. Happy. Excited. It continues like this for the next few days. He brings his toys to the fence, coming in later, licking his lips. When you brush his teeth at night, you smell something gamey on his breath. Meaty. 

Getting out of bed a few hours later and playing in the hallway. Going to sleep with you at night, but somehow getting out in the early hours of the morning, waiting for you on the patio when you remember the huff of his breath over your neck less than an hour ago—

No. You're just—

Getting the time wrong. It's fine. He'll protect you. He doesn't like anyone but you.

You hear footsteps in the hallway at night next to the click-clack of his nails. When you jump out of bed to check, it's just him. Sitting by the back door, head craned over his shoulder when he heard you coming. His favourite toy is sitting on the ground in front of him. You fight a shiver. The feeling of eyes burning into you churns your stomach.

"I'm going crazy, sweetheart," you coo, but feel the threads of your sanity begin to snap one by one. "But you'll keep me safe, right?"

His tail wags. You pretend not to notice the gap in the patio door. Opened just a crack. You shut it, forcibly telling yourself to remember to close it next time and fight the memories of locking it before settling on the couch to watch old re-runs. You drag him back to bed, burrowing your head into his fur, listening to the thud-thud-thud of his heart in your ear. 

When you dream that night, it's of a big, scarred hand making its way between your thighs. A rasping, masculine voice in your ear commanding you to be good—

You wake up with your thighs sticky, wet. Your cunt pulsing. There's an ache there; a sting. It twinges when you move, tapering into a sore throb as you swing your legs over the side of the bed, woken up by the strange dream—fingers between your thighs, a head resting on your belly, calling you a good girl—and a noise.

A low murmur comes from the living room. You wince with the first several steps, forcing yourself to ignore the uncomfortable feeling between your thighs. The wetness that drips down your leg, some of it already dried, sticking to your skin. It’s fine. You just had a—

A wet dream.

—everything is fine. Fine. Your heart lurches. Lodges in your throat. Each beat feels like a fist against your tissue trying to break down the prison of your flesh to flee. 

You slowly inch toward the hallway, the sound, making excuses for the fear that curdles in your belly. The itch in the back of your head that calls you stupid. Demands you go back to bed. To sleep. You’ll wake up in the morning to Baby slobbering over your chest, drooling as the time ticks away in a slow crawl towards his usual breakfast. 

It’s tempting. The sleep congealing in the corners of your eyes, weighing heavy—molasses-thick—over your sense of awareness: cobwebbed in that strange, uncanny realm of sleep and wakefulness; hypnagogia turning shadows on the walls into human shapes. The whisper of wind into the brassy drawl of a voice. 

Through it all, the prickle rears. Says something isn't right. Hasn't been right for a while now. It's fine. Everything is—

It doesn't make sense at first. Your brain tries to wrap around the images your eyes feed it. Untangling the dizzying sense of confusion that runs along your hindbrain like a jagged knife; grazing tissue, scraping over nerves. The picture comes together quickly. There's no misinterpreting the shapes.

A man is lounging on your couch. Legs kicked up on the coffee table, ankles crossed. The remote is held in one hand as he lazily flicks through the channels on your television screen. The picture of ease. So relaxed, so comfortable in your space, that you begin to feel a little bit like an intruder. A voyeur peering between the curtains.

This feeling is reinforced when you peel your eyes away from the horrifying mask on the man's face—a black balaclava—and find your dog lounging beside him. Resting with his head over this stranger's thick thighs. His head perks up when you approach, tail wagging, but he doesn't get up from his spot. Content to bask in the half-hearted attention the man doles, a hand buried in his fur. Dragging over his ears. Down his back. Monotonous flicks of his thick wrist, nearly the same width as the barrel of a baseball bat.

And that just trembles down your spine in the worst way.

He's the same height as you are sitting down. Takes up two cushions on the couch with his absurd bulk. Massive, you think. And then it all rushes through you. The knife slips into your cognisance.

There's a man in your house. Petting your dog,

your dog who tries to bite the same vet he's had for years. Who trusts, who likes, no one but you—

You make a noise. Something strangled in the back of your throat. Muffed, unable to escape through the clot of your heart getting there first. It tangles around your pericardium and is too late to take back. To swallow down. 

It doesn’t matter, though. 

The man has been watching from the beginning. 

Dark eyes (a dark, black flash between the leaves—) drill into you. Staring. That familiar, unease feeling is back again, creeping up your spine. It's been him the whole time, you know. The thing behind the fence. Must be. The same brand of cigarettes you found on the opposite side is sitting on your coffee table, right beside his feet.

His chest expands with his inhale. You smell stale smoke. Something wild. The scent of the forest after a summer's rain shower.

"Finally up, are you? Thought you were gonna sleep all day." His voice is deep. Brassy. The growling roll of an approaching thundercloud. You shiver. Jerk back, but—

Baby growls.

He's never done that before. Never barked. Never snarled. Never nipped.

But right now, his teeth peel back, muzzle wrinkling as he lifts his lips. And you know it's playful. Seen this look on his face when you throw the ball across the yard. It's just him being his silly self. He won't attack you. Won't maul you. 

The man lifts his hand and your dog limbers up. Shakes. He jumps off the couch and trots toward you. Nothing is threatening in the way he moves. It's the same lumbering gait, the same happy wag to his tail, but he moves himself around you. Stands between you and the only escape.

"Baby—?"

"Taught 'im a few tricks," the man drawls conversationally—like he wasn't a stranger in your house. "Got a good boy on your 'ands. Jus' needed a bit o'trainin'—”

He snaps his fingers and Baby moves. Bumps his head into the back of your thighs. Pushing you. Nudging you toward the man. It’s so horrifying familiar that you find yourself moving without a thought. Following along. 

"He jus' needed a man in the house, didn't he? A father figure—" 

You're going to be sick. Think you would have been already if your heart wasn't lodged tight in your throat, keeping everything down. 

The man lifts his hand. Curls his fingers. 

"C'mon, mommy," he taunts, voice a derisive roll. "Come sit on Daddy's lap. It's movie night tonight."

Baby pushes you forward happily, tail wagging, wagging—

Happier than you’ve ever seen him as this stranger reaches out, grabbing your waist and hauling you onto his lap. You think about fighting immediately, struggling to get out of his hold, but he moves back and the unmistakable, blunt press of a gun sends shivers rolling down your spine. You still instantly. Back drawing tight. Fear is a wet, hot pulse behind your ribs. 

“Don’t fight it, birdie—” You feel the warm, damp press of his mask against the shell of your ear. The ridges of his lips move beneath the fabric as he speaks. 

You hear him inhale, drawing in the scent of your shampoo—your fear: an oily thick miasma pooling behind your ears, against your nape—and feel tears pool against your lashline when a surge of familiarity wells up at the solid, firm weight of his chest against your spine. His thigh slips between yours, spreading them wide over the arch of his muscle. Limp, dizzy, you fall back into his chest when he pulls you in, slotting a burly arm over your ribcage. Locked in tight. A shackle. 

“Ain’t go’ nothin’ t’worry about,” he continues, hips shifting. Moving. And—

It’s a not gun. You know it isn’t. When you whimper, it throbs—

There’s the echo of a groan in his voice when he huffs, lips pursing into a kiss. “Nothin’ at all. C’mon, Baby—” 

And Baby obeys eagerly, jumping up on the couch beside him. His snout is warm, wet, when he presses it to your arm, sniffing. Please, you think, staring into his eyes as tears swell, pooling down your cheeks. Please—

But the man lifts his arm, and Baby circles the cushion before falling against his side with a deep, content sigh. Hope is snuffed out of your chest in an instant. The man’s hand falls to his head, rubbing his skull affectionately. 

“Good boy.” Baby perks. His happiness is a palpable thing that swells around you as he melts, eyes slipping closed. “Gonna be a good boy while mum an’ dad spend some time together, ain't you, boy?”

His arm tightens around your waist. Chin notches over your shoulder as he shifts back, legs kicking out to spread your thighs further apart.

"Now," he drawls, hand sliding down to the mess between your thighs. You shiver against him, toying with the idea of running, fleeing—but he must know. Senses it, maybe. He lifts his hips, pressing the gun into your spine. A threat. A warning. But with the way he swallows you up—broad chest closing in on you, trapping you on all sides—you know it's futile.

He has you.

Your submission makes him purr.

"Baby's sleepin', so now let daddy take care'o mommy—"

[undiscovered-horizon]

Rainy Season - Morpheus x Reader

[Spoilers for Brief Lives I guess?]

[MASTERLIST] | [Sandman-inspired playlist]

SUMMARY: Fed up with Dream's stubborn and at times childish attitude, you leave Dreaming. But when Morpheus's sorrow makes itself known, Matthew has to fetch you before the kingdom completely floods.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.7k

It’s a tumultuous morning in the Dreaming. Even if none of the dreams and nightmares are privy to the ongoing feud, they know something is wrong. It’s as though the air in the kingdom, the marrow of their bones, turned bitter last night. Their skin is crawling but the sun is shining as it did yesterday. They birds chirp the same song they had throughout centuries. And yet, against their better judgment, something is terribly out of place.

To be honest, you don’t even remember how all of this started but the damage is already done.

A frustrated scream ripples through your chest, "The world doesn't revolve around you!" You're fuming. There's only so much patience one person can hold and recently, Morpheus had proven himself exceptional at trying to reach its limit until he, unfortunately, succeeded today. "For someone who's supposed to know every thought ever entertained, you sure can not look past the tip of your own nose."

His eyes, cold and hurt, stare at you in utter confusion. Dark eyebrows furrow. "I do not know what you're expecting of me,” he states in an angry voice. It appears that he really does not understand the reason for your outrage. "I am not human, I am unable to look at the world as you do."

Of course he says that, you think to yourself. It seems to be his favorite line of defense. Dream of the Endless is a strange, eldritch creature. He doesn’t comprehend the world like a mortal does and, or some reason, he treats this fact of nature as an excuse not to try. At first, you thought it charming - to see the universe through the eyes of a creature you can barely begin to understand. Who wouldn’t? The strange wonder of the man in front of you made you seek his company again and again. Truthfully, there’s something poetic about it: the reason you’ve come back to him so many times might be the very reason you bid him farewell. For good.

"Good news, then: you don't need a cardiovascular system to exercise empathy.” Your sarcastic tone has an effect on Morpheus. He frowns, hurt by your words, only to grow angry that he’s so affected. Dream’s pride makes him want to not be influenced by your bitterness. Alas, he cares more than he’s willing to admit. "Not everything is about you, Morpheus, and until you realize that, I don't think we've got more to talk about. Goodbye."

Even after you shut the door behind you, the word echoes through the castle. The stone walls seem to whisper it back to Morpheus, rubbing the salt in his wound. How strange it is - to be haunted by somebody still alive. To be the king of dreams and feel hopeless. It would be funny if it didn’t make him want to be unmade.

A thunder rolls. A blue lightning splits the sky in two. Despite the lovely weather in the morning, it starts to rain in the Dreaming.

The storm doesn’t stop after a few hours nor does it cease after a few days. Black clouds cover the sky as they did four days ago. The only change is in the water level: the kingdom is flooded. When everyone thought the rain is bound to stop soon, no one minded much the rising tide. However, when the situation only worsened with no evidence that it’s going to improve in the near future, worried voices started to reach Lucienne. If the storm doesn’t cease in the next day or two, some parts of the Dreaming will share the fate of Atlantis.

If Morpheus knew he was being observed, he didn’t show it. Perhaps he doesn’t feel up for another confrontation. In any event, he remains still, standing against the balcony reiling, as his friends begin plotting:

"How is he?" Matthew whispers to Lucienne. "Has he moved from there at all? Ate something? Said anything?"

"That's three 'no's, I'm afraid,” she answers slowly. The librarian lets out a heavy sigh. "He's just dramatically standing there, wallowing in pity."

Dream really is 'just standing there’. Drenched. His hair and clothes are stuck to his pasty skin. It can’t be comfortable but it would appear that matters other than cosiness are on his mind at the moment. For the past few days, ever since you left, he hasn’t moved even a quarter of an inch. Truthfully, he looks about as alive as a marble statue, if monuments could appear excruciatingly miserable.

"Should we do something?" The raven continues. What he really wants to ask is 'What should we do?’ but Lucienne seems to catch the undertone of his words nonetheless.

"You could ask her to come back but no guarantee she'll want to,” she thinks out loud. "They've fought before but this time she looked really defeated."

Morpheus, although doesn’t need to breathe, sighs loudly. As he exhales, another lightning tears the sky apart.

"Alright, I'll try to convince her to talk to him again,” Matthew states. His worried voice makes him sound determined to have the two of you reconcile. "Hopefully, we'll be back before you need a canoe."

Lucienne doesn’t respond. As much as she doesn’t want to admit to her pessimism, she knows better than to have much hope in the matter of Dream’s love life.

Repetitive tapping on the window diverts your attention from the dishes you were washing. Seeing the black bird sitting on the outside windowsill, you quickly wipe your hands against the dishrag and jog to open the window.

"Matthew?" you ask in surprise.

He wastes no time pleading his case in a plaintive tone. "You gotta go back to him. Everything's gone to shit."

You furrow your eyebrows. Leaning against the wall, you cross your arms on your chest. "What do you mean?"

The raven hops closer to you. "It's been pouring nonstop since you left. He's just standing there, soaking wet and he won't talk to anyone."

It might sound sadistic but it’s a nice thought that he’s grieving your departure so severely. For what it’s worth, it means he’s not as blase as he likes to appear. Perhaps, Morpheus cares about you more than you’re even aware of.

"How bad is it?" you ask warily.

"How bad?!" Matthew screeches. "The House of Mysteries is so flooded, Abel is fishing."

It sounds like 'bad' is nothing more than an elegant euphemism. In his heartache, Morpheus is willing to let Dreaming decay and fall into partial ruin. If your accusation had been correct and Dream of the Endless truly is unable to care about anyone but himself, such a disaster would never have happened. A selfish ruler wouldn’t let his realm turn to rubble because of a broken heart. And if you’re more important than what he calls home, then…

"I'm assuming that's not a usual feature,” you give the raven a half-hearted response. The thoughts inside your head are in a painful turmoil, trying to lift the truth out of the indications.

"Yeah," he answers sarcastically.

Matthew glares at you in anticipation. Perplexed, you rub your arm without thinking much about it. Right, it's the mature and responsible thing to do but at the same time, why do you have to be the one to cave in every time you two fall out? If Morpheus cares for you as much as his dramatic show of pain and grief would suggest, shouldn’t it be him travelling across world and realms to reach you?

The raven cocks his head. Something about the look in his eyes changes as though his frustration has faded away or grown into desperation if not powerlessness. He’s tired and out of options.

"Alright, let's go," you say with a sigh. "But no promises. I still have pride and self-respect and he's still a stubborn..." you take a deep breath, "nevermind. Let's just go."

Miserable.

That's the only word that comes to your mind as you stare at him from afar. One would think that an entity of his sort can not be or look miserable but maybe this world is even stranger than you've thought. His clothes are drenched to the point of being see-through. Dark, once-tussled hair is now stuck to his face and neck. Dream's body looks even more stringy as his head is hanging low between his shoulders.

The rain is almost deafening. Your cautious, hesitant footsteps shouldn't be audible and yet Morpheus turns around to look at you when you come closer.

"I didn't think you'd come back," he says in a low, groggy voice. Dream's eyes, once blue and cold, are now red and unsettlingly vacant. Has he been crying? "What do you want?"

You take a deep breath. It was vain to expect him to welcome you with open arms. An eldritch being with a bruised ego and a broken heart could never make for a hospitable host. Even to those whom he misses the most.

"I still stand by what I said, it's just..." you hang your voice for a moment to find the proper words. Seeing him so broken by your fight makes some part of you want to renounce everything that lead to your argument. Anything just for him to be alright again. But the more reasonable side of you knows that such an action would only hurt both of you in the long run. "I admit, I could have said it in a more civilized way. I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that harshness."

His gaze falls and Morpheus looks away for a moment.

Whether he's doing it consciously or not, the rainstorm ceases. Black clouds slowly drift away to uncover a clear, blue sky. Somewhere in the West, if there are cardinal directions in Dreaming, the sun is beginning to set. Despite the significant improvement, the air remains cold. A harsh wind nips at your drenched form. In a vain attempt to shield yourself from the discomfort of the weather, you put your arms around your torso. Still, your body trembles.

"Perhaps I should have put more effort into understanding your concern. I'm..." he turns silent for a second. His lips are apart but no sound is coming out of his mouth. Dream's hurt gaze meets yours. "Sorry," he whispers finally. Despite his voice being hardly audible, the weight of his confession is almost deafening.

"There's one more thing, Morpheus."

Those sad blue eyes stare at you in anticipation. The misery on his face makes you think that he's expecting to have his heart broken again, instead of mended.

A couple of grey clouds reappear above your heads. Oh no.

"I'm tired of always being the one to reach out," you confess. His gaze is too intense and you quickly look away from him. There's much on his mind. "No matter who's right or wrong, it's me who bridges the gap between us. Even if that angers me, I still do it. Every time. And I don't know what that says about me."

Your body trembles again but this time it doesn't go unnoticed by Morpheus. He, quite literally, pulls a coat out of thin air. Dream's movements are almost fearful as he cautiously places the garment around your shoulders.

"Perhaps in certain aspects, you are better than me," he answers quietly while fixing the coat to fit you better.

You know you're pushing your luck when you look at him again and ask a not-so-innocent question:

"You mean a 'better person'?"

"I'm not-" He bites his tongue just in time. Morpheus is not a person. Both of you are perfectly aware of it. But it was the mention of this very fact that had brought such disastrous rain to Dreaming. "Yes. A better person."

There's not much conviction in his words but there is, however, a silent promise to find it.

______

Now that I’m in mourning, I thought it fitting to finish reading "Brief Lives" and the bittersweetness of it felt all the more pronounced. Reading it prompted me to rewatch the show and long story short I’m kind of back in my Sandman feels.

[lesvii]

The Dinner

Valeria Garza x F! Reader

Valeria Garza fic… yeah this is the diner by Billie eilish😶‍🌫️… anyways hope u enjoy

Tw: toxic val, brief mention of smut (just touchy).

You’ve been living in a small apartment, big enough for two people. Waking up at 6am coming home at 2am. You’ve work two shifts at least to keep the rent going. Working in a coffee shop near by, at night on bar 5 min away from your place. Today was a calm evening, you sighed as you walked back to you place, fist clenched. You knew Las Almas wasn’t so “calm” at least at night… you knew you had to be careful, looking backward once in a while, just to be sure no one was following you. But that feeling of someone watching you didn’t wash away.

Don’t be afraid of me.

I’m what you need.

You’ve arrived at you place at 2:30 A.M. as you took your work shoes off and change to some comfortable pink fluffy slippers. You turned the TV on, exhausted as you stroll to the kitchen opening cabinets to see what quick meal you can make. Until something catches your eye.

“We been notified that a near squad militar unity had capture a cartel suspect, just a quick reminder on how Las Almas is quite a dangerous place—“

The TV when quiet for a second when you served yourself a bowl of fruit and yogurt as you sat on the couch near the TV. The lady on the screen looked nervous, quite astonished as she talked to someone behind camaras.

“I— um- we’ve been informed that the suspect we’ve mention has scaped the military quarters, we suggest you to no go outside past midnight, keep your doors locked, and don’t answer the door if you don’t know who they are”

“The characteristics we have been informed is a Tall woman, tan skin, tattoos in both arms, dark short hair, we repeat—“

I saw you on the screens.

I know were meant to be.

It got cut off by you changing the channel, but sadly this was all over the news, you groan as you finish your dinner.

A thunder straddle you as you jumped from the couch, you looked outside the living room window as a thunderstorm was covering Las Almas when a huge thump made you turn around in shock, you walked slowly as you tried to gather yourself, a cold breeze hit your body from behind as you turn to see the door was open.

“Fuck.. that scared the shit out of me”. You mumble as you came to close the door, this time with a lock, probably the wind made that.

You stood in silence as you decide to go upstairs to your room, wash off the stress, you took a shower, put on a set of black silky shorts and a top, quickly hoped to bed, closing your eyes, you drift to your dreams quickly.

A black shadow stare at the corner of the room, your breathing becomes heavier as you can see the woman described walking towards your bed, a knife at her hand, looking at you like a prey, the next meal she’s gonna have before disappearing into the darkness again.

You’re starring in my dreams.

In magazines.

Your looking right at me.

You scream, waking up cold sweating as you try and regulate your breathing back again, you groan as you rest you face in your hands. That’s why you don’t like to watch TV so often, too many deaths and negative propaganda. You sighed as going back to sleep wasn’t an option, finally your body stopped shaking. Nothing but a mare nightmare right?.

You sat up on bed as you turn to face your nightstand where your clock was at 3:33 A.M.

The devils hour.

What a coincidence you thought as a shiver down your back was known.

I’m here around the clock.

I’m waiting on your block.

You heard a weird creek on your stairs, strangely the same as when you set your foot cause by a weight, they are wooden stairs after all, they do made noices, you think. You stay silent for a second as you decided to be brave enough to get out off the comfort and safety of your bed, as if no monsters could ever get you there. You slowly open you bedroom door, as you peak your head a little to watch, not being at peace you decided to go downstairs quietly.

Step by step, slowly but calculating your way down to your living room, your breathing a bit on edge, you hear a noice coming from your kitchen, scared shitless you turn to see where the noice is coming from, but fear not, for your surprise was just a loose branch clicking the kitchen window, you decided to peak on the window.

“Care to have some company, chula?”

A husky voice straddled you to the point you were too scared to look back, you froze in the middle of the kitchen, as your worst fear came true.

But please don’t call the cops.

They’ll make me stop.

I just wanna talk.

You left out a trembling sighed as you turn around to face the femenine husky voice. You shook your head as you open your mouth to speak but for a moment nothing c,w trough.

“I— I don’t want any problems just take whatever you want and go-“.

Your voice practically trembling, fighting the urge to not look weak. She makes a low giggle, as she takes a step towards you.

“Really?, anything I want, careful for what you which for florecita”.

She grins taking a final step towards you, as she examines your face, the moonlight hitting your face in the most perfect angles. You stare right into her eyes, there’s something about them… something about the way they look at you, with desire, lust, possession.

“You know… I was planing to knock the fuck out of whatever perro was living here…”

Valeria makes a pause examining your apartment surroundings.

“But— I didn’t knew there was a pretty little thing living here, now you’ve just changed my mind?”.

She said as she caressed a strand of hair that was messy from the commotion.

“How about I bring you back to my place?, you can have anything with me, just name it.”

Bet I could change your life.

You could be my wife.

You stare at her confused of who she was, what was she doing here?, and now she was telling you she was going to take you away. What’s this a kidnapping of some sort?. You started to panic but something kept you grounded, the way her hands were now resting over your hips pulling you closer to the heat of the older woman’s body. You looked down to her hands as you looked away in shyness.

“Aww, no chula don’t go all shy on me now..”

Valeria said, making little circles with her fingers massaging your hips. You sighed at the touch, she leaned over as she dominantly kissed you, bitting your lower lip, her hand traveling down to your pajamas shorts. As things started to get more heated you pushed her away, as you try to make a run for it.

Bad decision

She was right after you, in a split second she cashes you like a lion stalking his pray, ready to make the last kill. She pushes you right into the corner of the living room.

Could get into a fight

I’ll say your right

And I’ll kiss you good night.

“And I thought we were getting along?, you don’t wanna get me mad princess..”

Your breathing accelerates, adrenaline pumping into your veins. As she Hoover over you, you manage to set a punch as she straddles back.

“get away from me !”

I waited on the corner till I saw the sitter leave.

Was easy getting over.

And I landed on my feet.

You scream hoping someone would come for your rescue, Valeria backing up from you finally when you see her walking to the kitchen, confused you stare at her not knowing what to do.

I came in through the kitchen.

Looking for something to eat.

As she comes back to you she grins, you hear some commotion outside, honking in general.

“My rides here… but you can call me if you change you mind sweetheart.”

She finally said as she caressed my lips, final look as she went through the front door and disappeared in the darkness.

I left a calling card so they.

Would know that it was me.

[dontmixpaintinyourcoffee]

Things I Can't Stop Thinking About Since the Gravity Falls Renaissance; An Overly Long Compilation

• It's mostly a joke-y cartoon thing but holy shit Dipper wakes up screaming kind of a lot??? How long has he been doing that for?? How long will he *be* doing it for??

• Stan had to basically teach himself advanced physics and complex multidimensional theories. He had the advantage of the portal mostly being built and having a bunch of the notes post-Bill, but still!! He had to learn how to operate the damn thing! I highly doubt Ford wrote about the portal in the same accessible manner he wrote about cryptids, especially as he spiraled into paranoia. The machinations of the portal weren't meant to be shared with the layperson, it just wouldn't be practical information for most people to have.

(also notable that he went through the whole process of learning how to operate the portal not only through pages and pages of dense code, but with the background of a 1970s highschool education and literally nothing else that would be relevant. Ford works really hard, but this is also stuff that comes to him very naturally. Designing a functioning portal wasn't the hard part. The hard part was getting the idea for the portal in the first place and knowing what to do with it. This shit is so ridiculously advanced and Stan is not an academic mind by any means. No wonder it took 30 years, he had to keep up a fake life and fund his project while grinding away at advanced quantum physics interdimensional whatever science wizard nonsense. I think about those 30 years a lot.)

• It doesn't really get addressed, but I think about Wendy being "super stressed out, like, all the time!" A lot. God, can you imagine living in the same house as Manly Dan? Let alone being the only girl there? Especially depending on when their mom left/died, she probably felt incredibly alone for a lot of her teen years. And given the Apocalypse Training it doesn't seem like Manly Dan is the most stable parent either.

• Stan, Ford, and Wendy could probably bond over having shitty holidays (and subsequently being forced into having awesome holidays when Mabel found out.) Filbrick took Stan and Ford to get free cinder block samples for Hanukkah, and the Corduroys did apocalypse training every year instead of Christmas.

• Pacifica still hears the voice of the Lumberjack ghost in her nightmares, but it's implied on the website that the Lumberfolk spirits have actually declared her under their protection since the events of Northwest Mansion Mystery. That means one of two things: that the ghost in her dreams is just her own guilt-ridden brain, or that the ghost has been appearing in her dreams to try and help her. I think about both options frequently.

• Stan struggles a lot of the time with physical activity, but that's mostly to do with age. He's actually really goddamn strong (beating down the zombies, punching a pterodactyl in the face, grabbing Ford and hoisting him up off the ground no problem, scaling scaffolding and holding the twins up by a rope one-handed). This makes the fact that Wendy beat him in an arm wrestling contest three times in a row way funnier.

• The way the Stans were almost definitely completely willing to beat a random guys ass so that Waddles could get on that bus. Stanford "Your math is no match for my gun you idiot!" Pines implicitly threatened to shoot a stranger with a Weird Sci-Fi Firearm for his great-niece. Stanley is even more direct. There is no confusing what brass knuckles will to to you. I also absolutely believe that they were not bluffing. One of them would've stolen the bus if the guy had mysteriously fallen unconscious due to unforseen circumstances.

• According to Soos, Tad Strange is crushing hard on Woodpecker Guy. Is this general town knowledge? Does everybody know that the Woodpecker marriage is on the rocks? How does one divorce a woodpecker? Alternatively, how does one get divorced *by* a woodpecker? Does Tad have a chance? Is this a small town scandal? Mr. Hirsch inquiring minds want to know. Has Toby Determined written a gossip column on this drama yet. Get your head in the game, Toby

[pruneunfair]

Manhwas except the villainess is the protagonist.

Groundhog Duchess, FL: Rhyse Sinclair. Tone: psychological horror (Not your typical reincarnation story)

Rhyse has achieved everything she could've ever wanted, she found a loving family, she has supporting friends, the woman who schemed for her downfall is dead, and now she's married to her husband Cliff as the new Duchess Rudwick! Until she woke up in her bed, the dates set back to where she started, living in her abusive family home where she laments that it was just a dream.. and then her dream comes true! Finally, she's achieved the happiness her dream foretold. Right after her wedding night she wakes back up, in her childhood home with her abusive family. It keeps happening over and over, no one believes Rhyse when she tries to speak out. There's something pulling the strings, something keeping her from speaking on her accord. She begins to avoid the Rudwicks, hoping that it would end this teasing nightmare but no matter where she goes, she always ends right back into Cliff and Killians arms, back to being tormented by Edith, back to a life that will always be taken away from her right when she's at her highest and with each passing time, she starts to lose more of herself and becoming more and more spiteful and bitter. Will Rhyse finally be able to put an end to this cycle and achieve a happy ending that lasts forever with her unexpected ally?

the flowers from another world, protagonists: Robelia and Aisha Tone: Comedy (Divorcing my tyrant husband)

Aisha had it all. She was the pampered consort of the tyrannical Alexandros and on her way to becoming the next empress, a major improvement from her boring life in Korea. She never wanted to leave, that is until mysteriously all the love and attention she would bask in has disappeared.

The once quiet and obedient empress Robelia was all of a sudden Alexandros love again! One by one Aisha starts to lose everything, all her allies turned on her and none of her endeavors had a chance to succeed not to mention Robelia has been nothing but insufferable the entire time. When Aisha finally confronts Robelia on her sudden change in behavior the two argue further until Alexandros shows up. Much to Aishas dismay, he only assists Robelia but somethings odd.. Robelia doesn't seem to be enjoying ANY of the attention..? Huh, odd. Who wouldn't want to be adored by a man who would do ANYTHING for you? Well it turns out Robelia is also from the same world as Aisha and she's been acting the way she has so she can divorced and live away from the nobles. The women come to an understanding in their commin goal and as frenimies they go on misadventure after misadventure to restore Aishas plot powers so Robelia can easily get divorced and leave. But the more time Aisha spends with Robelia, the more she sees from her point or view and she starts to wonder if Alexandros is even worth it?.

Two birds on a wire, FL: Claudine Van Brandt, tone: drama+tragedy (cry or better yet beg)

As far as Claudine could remember she was reminded that everyone has a destiny to fulfill in the aristocracy and hers was to marry and bear heirs. All Claudine really wanted in life was a carefree one where she got to live in luxury and enjoy the finest of all so to please her family and live her ideal life at the same time, she chooses a long time acquaintance, the Duke of Berg, Matthias Herhardt. Despite her fiancé's strange behavior Claudine was fine with how things were until she starts to notice Matthias take an interest in someone else.. the niece of one his employees and a girl she knew back then: Layla Llewellyn. Suddenly everything begins to feel as if it's falling apart. Claudine guaranteed luxurious life is now at stake and she's willing to do what it takes to achieve it! But what about Layla? No, why should she care? She's the one who's wreaking Claudines home, if she'll become collateral damage then she deserves it for flirting with someone else's man.. until she learns of what kind of psychological damage Matthias is inflicting on Layla, Claudine terrified now: if she marries that man then who knows what he'll put her through, screw her luxurious life and her families desires she needs to escape now!.. but not before she breaks Matthias and Layla up and free the poor girl she wrongfully accused, that is if Claudine isn't already too late.

the human saintess, FL: Diana tone: romance+ self growth (For my derelict favorite)

Diana is a saintess of common origins, with no one reconginizing her due to her lack of status a miracle in the form of two handsome men grant her the chance to finally use her healing powers for the good of the common folk, all seems well until one of her friends Cael reveals that he killed their enemies for her in the name of love. It seemed sensible at the time that she rejected him harshly and told him to leave. With only one man left she chooses Helios as her husband and becomes the crown princess. Now that she's a noble, Diana must learn how to act as one even if it means restricting some of her power to the poor. All Diana wants is to be accepted, to finally receive some payment after all that hardwork she'll even ignore news on Cael if she has to, he must be doing better anyway now right?. Well, not exactly. By ignoring any news about him Diana never realized that Cael had attempted suicide more than once, but what could she do? By the time she finds out she also learns that Caelus is married so it should all be fine.. until Caelus's new wife Hestia keeps harassing her for her faults, she just won't leave! But Diana can't say anything, she's the saintess! She HAS to be good.. but to who? The nobles or the commoners? Why can't it just easy for once!?

Slowly but surely, Diana will learn that even if she's a saintess, she's still a person and as a person, she makes mistakes, some big and some small. If she wants to get any better she has to make things right. Starting with the people she neglected below.

into the dark forever, FL: Marianne Edenverre, tone: self destruction.

All her childhood Marianne had been nothing but bad fortune. Her mother treated her terribly and even living as the 5th princess did little to differentiate from her previous homelife. All her new half siblings refuse to treat her as human for her status as an illegitimate child except for the 4th princess Alisa, the bright bundle of joy that made her feel welcome.However, a single person cannot make up for the mistreatment, especially if that person is the star of the family. Why can't Marianne have that? Who does Alisa even think she is!? Is she taunting her? Marianne won't stand for that disrespect, she suffered enough hasn't she? When is she gonna get her paid her dues? If God won't pay her then she'll just have to steal it herself so Marianne summons a demon to give her the help she needs. All of a sudden, everyone loves her! She's the star of the show and now Alisa is the scapegoat, finally, now the 4th princess will know what it feels like to be ostracized but when that doesn't work, Marianne decides to just arrange her death instead. There, no more Alisa, she's finally the most adored girl in Edenverre... wait, Alisa has been reincarnated into the princess of a enemy empire? Well Marianne can't let that stand idly by, she needs to get rid of Aisha de Elmire now, no matter what it may cost.

Project Leila, FL: Yvonne Eckart, tone: coming of age tragedy.

After getting lost during a festival, Yvonne loses her not just her brothers and father but her sense of self, she had been possessed by the goddess Leila and its been relentless in its pursuit to possess her. Yvonne waited and waited for her father to come and find her, she wouldn't let Leila break her spirit but when she finds her father taking another girl in as her replacement, Yvonnes heart drops and she almost loses all hope and Leila almost succeeds.. but Yvonne is able to snap out of it at the nick of time, it was a close call but the pain of abandonment never did go away. During the remaining years, Yvonne never bothered to go back home anymore, they seemed to like that purple haired girl anyway and surprisingly Leila wasn't so bad to talk to as it was the perfect being to vent to. Day by day Leila keeps trying to trick Yvonne into letting it possess her but she always stands her ground and declares that she'll never affiliate herself with the likes of the goddess. But when Yvonne is found and arrives on Penelopes coming of age ceremony, it becomes tempting. All Yvonne saw was the girl who stole her life but the real monsters may have been more close to home then she thought. Just how toxic did her family become and will she be able to resist Leilas temptation?

The concubines woes, FL: Diane Poitier, tone: female rage+self reflection (I will abdicate my title as empress)

Diane Poitier had been a patient girl. After losing everything at a young age she had been determined to never let that happen again when she becomes the Emperors concubine. He has no wife, she's is the owner of the Ivory palace, and she resembles his deceased mother, the cards should have all fell in place, but they never do. The Emperor instead marries the crown princess Adelaide of Kotrov. Just like that Diane feels everything crashing down around her so she makes an enemy out of Adelaide, belittling her and trying to drive a wedge between the new married couple so she can return to the escapism of knowing she's the Emperors one and only. Yet with all the grievances she causes, Adelaide never sees Diane as an enemy, if anything the empress is the kindest to her then anyone else has ever been, one side of Diane wants to keep pushing until Adelaide snaps but the other is weeping so much it can't come up with the words. Why is she even doing this? What will this get her? Will the Emperor even marry her at all when he gets divorced? Why is she being this way to the one woman who has shown her kindess?These are the nagging questions the keep Diane up at night.

Divorcing your husband, FL: Sumin Jeong, tone: comedy (Marry my husband)

Sumin will never admit it but she's been a snake in the grass for most of her life, she can't stand seeing her friend Jiwon happier than her so what better way to ruin her life then to sleep with her husband while Jiwon is terminally ill? Well.. Karma inevitably catches up to Sumin and she is killed by the very same man she slept with after he accidently murdered Jiwon to eliminate any witnesses. Instead of waking up in heaven or hell, Sumin is back 10 years ago! Does she even deserve this? Of course she does! How could someone so deserving like her not? It turns out though that she lost a little something along the way.. her charisma! It's been stolen the moment Jiwon died and when Minhwan killed her. Without her cutesy baby act no man will just crumble when she says "Oppa!" Sumin actually has to work for what she wants now, and the only 2 men who are still willing to adore her are her killer and older co worker who has a thing for her childish talk, jeez were her co workers always this terrible? Whatever, she'll play into Minhwans hand for the time being.. after all, she could use a little life insurance from him.

Golden cage, FL: Rashta Ishka, tone:tragedy+female rage (remarried empress)

The tragic tales of a girl sold into slavery and the men who take advantage of her. Most strived for beauty but Rashta hated it, her beauty was a curse and it drew in all predators who wanted to take a bite out of her. The first man who fell for her was one of her masters who currently raises their child, the second is the Emperor of the empire who loves her like a hunter loves their trophies they caught and the third is the most charming yet manipulative of them all. During the duration of one year, Rashta navigates the life of a concubine and later empress. The ladies in waiting hate her for displacing their empress, the men desire her for her innocent beauty, her former master blackmails her, and her idol: the empress won't even turn an eye to her direction, her only hope is to keep going with her role of the prey Sovieshu caught. Keep acting cute, keep speaking in 3rd person, she doesn't even have to learn much etiquette if it means Sovieshu will find it charming. Slowly, she is picked apart by everyone in her life and the only people who could've helped her have been pushed away. There's no saving Rashta, she's already trusted too many of the wrong people and made too many mistakes but maybe when her children grow up and learn their mothers story they'll be the voice to put an end to slavery and grant the next generation the future she always wanted.

Aim for the throne, FL: Isabella de Mare, tone: suspenseful drama (Sister I am the queen in this life)

Isabella may be her families favorite but that alone isn't enough. She knows her worth as a woman only means so much and as much as she loved her mother, she refused to end up like her as a de-facto wife of a mere cardinal. No, if she only mattered for her beauty than Isabella was going to use it to it's fullest: she wants to become queen of San Carlo, but when her half sister Ariande comes to live with the family, the new competitor meant buisness and had already earned their fathers favor much to Isabellas annoyance. What was supposed to be a subtle warning is quickly figured out and it turns out Ariande isn't as dumb as Isabella thought. Throughout the years that follow, both sisters clash and plot to rise up the ranks. Isabella becomes a renowned beauty engaged to prince Alfonso and Ariande becomes reserved but most devoted to her religious studies, earning her privileges with the clergy. This has been Isabellas most formidable foe yet and she's willing to go to lengths of murder to secure her destiny as queen of San Carlo. Little does she know.. the golden rule cares little about beauty.

Black widow, FL: Krista, tone: thriller drama (remarried empress)

Out of all the ways it could have happened why this?, Krista was already deposed of her position of queen as expected when her husband died but with her positive reputation with the people and her brother in law remaining single, Krista was confident she'd stay as the beloved queen of the west. Oh, Heinrey brought in the former empress of the east to be his wife? Well she can't be shocked, the kingdom does need heirs after all, Heinreys starting to establish his fiancé as queen already? It's fine.. maybe he'll let her stay with them instead of sending to her to compshire to mourn for the rest of her life besides, she'll always have her loyal ladies in waiting. Wait no.. most of them are already defecting from Krista to the new queen.

Krista is losing everything and her foolish family isn't helping her case, all she has left is the peoples support for her but even that is fleeting!? What? Of course.. his majesty has stated he'd fill the mouths of those disrespectful to the new queen with rocks and sew it shut, it must've scared everyone into submission. Everything is on line now, Krista's father is continuously pushing buttons he shouldn't be pushing and when Krista's brother attempts to kill Navier, all fingers point to her as his accomplice. If Krista wants to clear her name she's gonna have to play the hard way and put on an act like she's loyal to Heinreys new wife and hope that the Heinrey doesn't execute her to protect Navier.

[wito-chan-bla-bla]

Return and imprisonment

You thought you were freed from the shackles of Satoru Gojo when you found out he was sealed. But fate, which has been giving you signs for so long, has decided that it no longer wants to help you

Warnings: not really, only yandere!Satoru and a little-little creepy

~

On the day when the whole world seemed doomed, because the great Satoru Gojo was sealed, you finally found your freedom.

While people were cowering in fear, you were finally able to breathe freely. The oppressive walls of his luxury apartment, which became a golden cage for you, could be destroyed without fear that someone would come for you. It was actually quite easy to escape all this time. The only problem was that your "crazy lover" will always find you.

You can hardly remember how long you were in his loving arms, so you can hardly remember why he chose you in the first place. When you asked him that one day, Satoru gave you a big smile, as if you weren't shaking with fear at the time, hugged you gently, kissed your temple, and told you that he would never find the perfect person for him that you were.

You met him quite a long time ago, back in high school, and he seemed quite normal back then. He immediately started talking to you a lot, but for someone like Satoru, that was normal. You didn't mind either, especially since Gojo was stronger, more experienced, and could teach you how to fight curses better and thus reduce the chance that you would die by your own stupidity.

But with every month - no, week - that you knew him, something started to feel wrong, terrible. Satoru has always looked at you a lot, but since when did he stop blinking? Since when did he turn his head horribly behind you when you decided to change the trajectory a little? Since when did he run into you again and again, even though you never had the same schedule for every day?

When you first asked him about it, you should have immediately run to the other side of the world after answering. Gojo was in a trance at the time, muttering that he had never seen a creature as perfect as you. When he blinked, seeming to recover, he just smiled and, to your confusion, which should have been a horror, replied that he was telling the complete truth.

You haven't noticed the hints of fate for too long. But it couldn't have been any other way. You come from the "village", you have never interacted with other sorcerers, especially those as strong as Satoru. After talking to his friends and reasonably judging that the "strongest" ones have their own oddities, you continued to communicate with Gojo…

And then were abducted and locked up for several years.

It happened suddenly, on a day that didn't bode well. You just opened your eyes and realized that this wasn't the school dorm you were living in, since it was quite expensive to rent an apartment, but an unfamiliar room that was too richly furnished for it not to be a dream.

And you thought it was all a dream for a while, especially after Satoru showed up. Yes, the strange feeling in your stomach was still trying to warn you of the danger, but Gojo was smiling so sweetly at you while carrying your breakfast tray that you thought it was fine.

And then reality hit you.

You were wearing the same clothes as last night. You felt the weight of the fork and the hands of the sorcerer, who placed his big hands on your blanket-covered knees. You could taste the food perfectly, and you could smell the sheets and tell exactly what they had been washed with most recently.

If this was a dream, it was too real. If it was a dream, it soon turned into a nightmare.

There were strange bracelets on your hands and feet that gave off cursed energy. It only took you one attempt to use your abilities to realize that you are now completely defenseless.

A scream, a tantrum, a tray thrown at Satoru... all this caused the sorcerer, who was frozen next to the bed, only a slight smile of a man in love. When you asked him in a shaky voice what you were doing here, Gojo opened his arms as if inviting you into a hug and smiled harder, now looking like the maniac he was slowly becoming over the years.

"You're safe here, my sweetcake."

 And with these words, you have lost any freedom.

At first, Satoru wouldn't let you out of the room, which was large but very limited. He kept repeating that it was all for your safety, that it was the only way he, the strongest, could protect you from "the evil of this world." He treated you as if you were a lover who responded to his feelings. He continued to act as if all your screams, all your pleas, all your curses at him were nothing. He pretended not to notice that you didn't want to be here at all.

Gradually, he allowed you to walk all over the apartment. And even though it was bigger and better than his bedroom, where you were forced to sleep in the same bed as the man who kidnapped you, you still didn't feel any better. There wasn't a single person you could talk to except Satoru, who would return from missions and continue to demand love from you as if you were his beloved wife.

You've wandered through corridors filled with paintings and expensive decor, you've explored every wall and found so many ways to escape. But every time you managed to escape, hurting yourself or not, Gojo found you, brought you back, locked you up. And it happened again and again and again.

You would never accept his tender but perverted love. But at the same time, you started to lose all hope. Your relatives didn't even know you were trapped. You asked your friends to turn their backs on you so they wouldn't get hurt. No one could help you because Satoru Gojo is "the strongest".

Gradually, you stopped trying to run away, to resist, just drowning in the arms of Satoru, who naively believed that you loved him in return. You might have loved him back if he hadn't kidnapped you, held you hostage, prevented you from communicating with other people, and threatened your loved ones and random strangers by telling that he would kill them if you tried to leave him.

 "We are made for each other, that's what my heart says, that's what my mind says, that's what my eyes say. So why do you want to leave me?"

 You have almost lost your identity, becoming the plaything of the caring but crazy Satoru Gojo, as fate seems to have decided to take pity on you.

On the day when the whole world lost hope, you found it.

As already mentioned, it was quite easy to escape from his home. He pretended to trust you. And even though he could always find you and teach you a lesson, he wanted to see if you really agreed to play by his rules and never, ever leave him. Once Gojo was out of this world, there was nothing to keep you in his apartment.

Grabbing the numerous jewels that the sorcerer gave you, you ran as far as you could until you felt a pain in your stomach. All the subsequent events were a blur, you wanted to cry and scream, tear your hair out on your head and thank the world that you can finally go outside, see other people's faces, breathe in fresh air, without being afraid that your loved ones will be brutally killed, and their corpses will be brought to you on the silver expensive dishes.

You were in such a hurry that you even forgot who you were asking for help. All you can remember is how you were able to start breathing again as soon as the restraints on your power were removed. You had a lot of money after selling your jewelry, and if something was missing, you could go back to Satoru`s apartment. And even if you hoped that he was robbed a hundred times, it is unlikely that all the most valuable things could be taken away at once.

After a few days of sitting at home and just enjoying the freedom, you were able to more or less leave the creepy apartment behind. You tried to erase from your memories the big bed where Gojo slept with you, hugging your body as if you were his cute little pet that can't resist. You tried to forget the big room where the walls were decorated with your photos, and the shelves were filled with things that were dear to you and suddenly disappeared for several months. You have tried to permanently erase from your mind those moments like Satoru would come home, give you a gentle hug and stretch out his cheerful voice: "I'm home, my sweet roll!"

  If only he was normal, if only he didn't kidnap you, if only he didn't say that he would kill anyone who tried to take you away from him, even if you wanted to escape... it would be a perfect, rich and happy life. But that wasn't the case.

But that's all in the past. Now you are completely free and are in another city. The war of sorcerers and curses is over, you are not going to help those who were afraid of Satoru Gojo and did not even try to help you. (And even if you wouldn't cross his path yourself, some invisible anger at the entire sorcerer society still lingers deep inside you.)

You planned to leave the country soon and start a new life somewhere far, far away, perhaps even stop being a sorcerer and become someone else. You felt lonely and insecure, but there was nothing you could do about it.

You couldn't go to the sorcerers because they would never help you and so have too many problems. You couldn't go to the police because they would just get killed, which is exactly what you were trying to avoid by staying peacefully in your prison and trying not to annoy Gojo. You could not go to a psychologist, because then you will also be asked to contact the police, assuring them that you are now safe, but this will be a lie that "ordinary people" will consider true.

So you were forced to deal with everything that was happening on your own, but at least not in the four walls that you can't leave.

You walked slowly out of the store, enjoying the freedom and the streets full of people rushing to their homes. You were planning to leave Japan in the near future, you just need to make documents and fly to wherever your heart wants. While you were gradually healing, cooking your favorite food and finally logging on to social media, watching and listening to what you like, rather than dying of boredom in front of the TV and radio that Satoru deigned to give you as "entertainment" while he was away.

So you went up to your floor, enjoying the weight of the bags in your hands, because Gojo didn't let you carry anything heavy, even if you were trying to forget yourself. You entered your small, poor rented apartment and felt that you were finally at home. Kicking off your comfortable, cheap shoes, you went to change into your own clothes, not the ones that belonged to the sorcerer, and began to prepare dinner, enjoying every second of what was happening, because Satoru forbade you to pick up anything sharp, for fear that you would harm yourself.

You calmly sliced vegetables, listening to the TV on out of the corner of your ear. It looks like it was some kind of romantic movie. You continued to cook, gradually immersing yourself in the plot, until it dawned on you that the main male character kidnapped the main female character and said that she should fall in love with him in a certain period of time. You opened your eyes in horror, remembering Gojo's beautiful face, which you wanted to slash with a knife, turned around, rushed to the console... and froze, noticing a familiar tall figure on the couch.

Your kidnapper always seemed big, but that was a little overshadowed by the fact that all the furniture in his apartment was designed to match his height and build. Now, sitting on a small, faded sofa, he looked like a giant. You almost dropped the knife from your hands in shock, but you clung to it just in time, even though you knew it was a normal weapon – even if it was filled with cursed energy! – it won't help you.

You staggered backwards until you hit the kitchen cabinet. A loud sound cut the room in two, and you almost lost consciousness. Your entire body was frozen, you wouldn't be able to move even if you were attacked.

You hoped, prayed, that this was all just a dream, a nightmare, one of the ones you saw every night after you left the sorcerer's apartment. You raised your hand to pinch yourself, but your trembling fingers couldn't catch your own skin. There were tears in your eyes, and you wanted to wake up screaming right now, right at this particular moment.

But it wasn't a dream, it wasn't a nightmare. No, no, no, no...

 Gojo reached for the remote and turned off the TV. He stood up and slowly turned to you with a big smile. He didn't look as angry or enraged as you thought. He looked like the same loving young man he always was.

–Hi… my little cinnamon roll.

You still dropped the knife, and Satoru hurried over to catch it. He picked up the sharp object and tossed it aside, shaking his head. Looking at you with loving blue eyes, he chuckled and said:

–Be careful, my cupcake! The knife is very sharp. What if it had fallen on your foot? I can't let you get hurt!

He opened his arms and wrapped them around you, pinning you to the kitchen counter. Tears came to your eyes, but not from happiness. You were disgusted by the smell of him, by his movements, by his breath on your neck. Gojo laughed deeply and pressed his lips to your neck. He pulled away, looked at your tear-stained face, shook his head, and started kissing your cheeks.

–Now you don't have to be afraid, – he murmured between kisses. – I will always be with you now, I will always protect you, my darling. You must have been so shocked that you ran out of my apartment here, afraid that someone would find you and try to kill you, right?

It would have been better if you had just died outside. You would die in fear, shock, but never, ever see Satoru Gojo again.

His embrace grew stronger, and you could hear that familiar mad laugh that sometimes came out of his chest when you tried unsuccessfully to escape and got stuck right in front of the sorcerer's feet.

–You're with me now, you're with me again. You're safe again, – you felt something being put on your finger. Ring. – I know you deserve so much more, but this is the ring I prepared for you as soon as I saw you the day you arrived at school, – he pressed his nose to yours, and you saw his eyes darken with emotion. His big hands grabbed yours. You are trapped in a trap from which there is absolutely no way to get out. – Will you marry me, my only ray of light?

Your answer was unimportant. Your answer was never important to him. He just wanted you to be forever in his arms, forever touching his body, forever smiling at him and swearing that you would never leave him. You were the only person he ever wanted to see around him... even if you didn't want to. But who are you compared to the one who is called "the strongest"?

If before you were a bird sitting in a golden cage, now you are a bird that has its wings broken forever.

[hells-plaid-angel]

Dean had the lung capacity of a deep-sea diver. After years of holding his breath as he drove through tunnels, he'd honed the skill, only gasping for breath when the Impala's windshield broke through the darkness and into the light. The habit had formed as a child but lingered into adulthood as most childhood fantasies did.

As a boy, his father raised him on superstition. If you made a wish when the world was swallowed by blackness and you could hold your breath until the end of a tunnel, that wish would come true. Over the years he'd wished for a hundred stupid things. He'd wished his mother was still alive, that he lived a normal life or that a pretty girl would look his way. He'd wished his father had been the one who'd died in the fire. He wished he didn't feel that way.

Once Dean had blacked out in the backseat of the Impala when driving the I-90 through Boston. He'd come to with Sammy squealing like a stuck pig and John Winchester cursing like a sailor. For the next year, being in Massachusetts made him feel light-headed.

Kids and old men are similar in their love of rituals. Dean was no longer a child, but he wasn't ready to call himself an old man. The ritual had changed over the years, but at its heart, it was always the same.

Dean found his new ritual each night he woke from a nightmare. That night, he found himself in the bunker. The image of his hands covered in blood lingered in the darkness of the room. He held his breath wishing for the dream not to be true. He only breathed when he switched on the lights and found his hands clean. In his dreams, Cas was always dying.

The nightmares weren't helped by the fact that the angel had died, numerous times. His sleep-addled mind took time to sort fact from fiction. Had Cas come back this time?

Dean Winchester knew better than anybody that death didn't always stick. Dean Winchester knew better than anybody that the universe liked to make him suffer. Both statements were equally true.

In the nightmare, Cas had died in his arms. He'd awoken, held his breath, switched on the lights and choked out a breath, which sounded suspiciously like a sob. When the drowning feeling reseeded he found himself exiting his bedroom, searching for the object of his nightmares as a drowning man searches for land.

Dean would never admit to himself he was looking for Cas, but the knowledge was there. There were many things Dean knew but wasn't ready to admit.

Dean found the angel in the library of the bunker, absentmindedly flicking through ancient texts and Sam's collection of trashy fitness and lifestyle magazines indiscriminately. A heavy weight on his chest dissipated. Cas looked up at Dean's sharp inhale. He could breathe again.

"Hello, Dean," the angel greeted, as though he were late to some prearranged meeting.

"Morning, Cas," Dean spoke, for lack of a better topic of conversation. He collapsed into the seat beside Cas.

"It's currently 3:15 a.m. and the sun isn't scheduled to rise until 5:25."

"Thanks for the weather report, buddy," Dean griped. His tone lacked the usual exasperated edge he used when Cas said something that struck him as particularly alien, which was often.

"How are you, Dean? You seem... unmoored."

People in the twenty-first century didn't use words like 'unmoored'. Dean knew exactly what Cas wasn't saying. Dean seemed upset. If there was one thing Dean didn't cope well with, it was being anything less than 'fine'. They were experts in each other's pathology, which would always feel strange. Dean wasn't used to being known.

"Can we talk about something else?" Dean had been working on the concept of denial. However, avoidance was fair game.

"If I'm going to be staying here long term, I want to buy better magazines," Cas stated, tossing the magazine haphazardly. He'd been staying for longer than usual. Dean kept feeling like he was holding his breath, waiting for the angel to disappear.

"We can drive into town come morning. Need to clear my head anyway."

"You haven't been sleeping well," Cas observed, his eyes shifting their attention to Dean. The blue-grey eyes said more than his words. His eyes were an ocean to an inexperienced swimmer. Not everyone could read them. Dean could. There was something more to them. A strong rip beneath steady water. There was a storm raging beneath the surface.

"It's creepy that you've noticed that," Dean remarked.

"You haven't been very quiet."

Dean wondered how much Cas heard. Did he talk in his sleep? Did he call out Cas' name in the night? Had the angel heard the moments of weakness where Dean had let himself muffle sobs behind his hand?

"This isn't changing the subject."

"I've been changing the subject all week. Evidently, it's not working," Cas' voice was resolute.

He and Dean shared their stubbornness, which always led to unproductive stalemates. They were two bucks with their antlers interlocked, starving and trapped in their own idiocy.

"The thing about being human, Cas, is that things don't magically just get fixed because you want them to." Dean rebuked.

"I'm aware, but have you actually tried to fix it?"

They were fighting. Why were they fighting?

"Talking never really solved much in my line of work. You know that."

"Is this about work?" Cas questioned.

They hadn't had any difficult hunts in weeks. Cas knew it wasn't about the job. He wanted Dean to know he knew.

"It doesn't matter what it's about. That's not the point. You don't get it." Dean felt the truth pushing its way up to the surface.

"Then help me understand."

"The problem —." Dean began before he felt anger or frustration choke the words from him.

"The problem is you keep dying."

He'd expected Cas to baulk at the confession. Dean wasn't one for sharing fears or feelings. What he hadn't expected was the look of horror that settled on the angel's face.

Dean scowled and scrubbed at his cheek, quietly cursing himself when his palm pulled back wet. Over the years, he'd gotten good at crying quietly. He hated that he was able to hide it from himself. Men didn't cry. Dean didn't cry. It was a lie, not so much a superstition, but a fable. A story he told himself.

"Dean I — I didn't realise my death... affected you so much. I apologise for the oversight," Cas spoke slowly, as though deliberately choosing each word with care.

How the hell could Cas not know his death, every goddamn one, hurt Dean? Cas was family.

"Yeah, well, I pegged you for a lot of things, Cas. Stupid wasn't one of 'em. So just... Be careful. I'm going to bed," Dean mumbled, praying for a quick exit.

Cas grabbed Dean's arm as he passed, stilling him. Dean felt the restriction return to his throat. He held his breath. He wished Cas knew what he meant without having to say it out loud.

Neither man spoke. The silence stretched long and loud between them. Cas clung to Dean's arm like a dying man to a life raft. For his part, Dean was just trying to stay afloat. Slowly, almost imperceptibly so, Cas' palm slid down to hold Dean's hand. Dean let him, which was as good as a confession.

There would be no confessions. A confession implied guilt, something that Dean had in droves, but not about Cas. It wasn't a lie so much as it was a fable. If a story was told long enough it became history.

He and Cas were still in the dark, biding time between apocalypses. He wished that when they finally found themselves in brighter times, there would be no need for confessions.

[ironstrange1991]

Baby, I'm the lucky one

Pairing: Defender!Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Defender is having a rough day and his wife comes to help him to relax.

Word Count: 5,9k

Warnings: SMUT: Thigh riding, blow job, cum eating, p n v sex, creampie.

A/N: It's finally here! It took me a long time to finish this one and I really hope it's worth the wait. I made it very romantic and although it had already appeared in some of my headcanons, seeing Eric inspired me with the glasses thing and is Vincent in the pic, but I can only see Defender in it so bare with me and have a nice reading ;)

The sound of approaching footsteps in the hallway informed Stephen that he was no longer alone in the Sanctum. He thought he heard the creaking of a portal and now the sound of boots on the floor confirmed it. Sighing, he closed the huge old book he was reading and took off his glasses, placing them on the desk and pressing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger.

Defender Strange was having a rough day, to say the least. It was actually a rough week that came right after a terrible mission. It seemed that the problems were piling up and he could no longer keep up with them, much less solve them before another one came up. To make matters worse, in addition to the feeling of helplessness he felt with each new impossible situation that was brought to him hoping he would magically find a solution for them, he also felt guilty for being so busy the last few days that he could barely pay attention to his pregnant wife.

The recently discovered pregnancy had been quite a surprise and was definitely not planned, but Stephen was happy with it, he just wished it had happened at a calmer time, but then again, there would ever be some calmer time in his life since he took on the position of Sorcerer Supreme and leader of the Defenders? Of course not.

The sound of footsteps got closer then stopped and Stephen heard a soft knock on the door to which he responded with a quick "Come in."

Wong entered the room with an expression in his face that told Stephen the master was bringing bad news.

"Tell me" Defender asked, putting on his glasses again and rummaging through the desk drawers for the pack of painkillers he had left there days before. It was true to say that excessive work combined with worries and poor diet over the last few days were contributing to his migraines. This time he decided to take a pill as soon as the first symptoms appeared in the hope of being spared of another terrible one.

Upon finding the pack, he took the pill and got up, heading towards the small corner table where he left a bottle of whiskey and two glasses arranged on a tray. He poured a dose and took it in one gulp along with the pill while listening to Wong explaining how preparations for the next mission had been halted because two of the masters who were supposed to go with the Defenders ended up injured in a battle against an interdimensional entity that had been released into the Kamar Taj by a curious student.

"I'm afraid we'll have to postpone it or else..."

Wong didn't finish what he was going to say, but Stephen added, "I'll have to go."

Wong sighed "It's been a rough few days for sure, but things will calm down like they always do."

Defender sat down again and pointed to the book he was reading "I haven't found any spell that can repair the damage caused by Nightmare in the passages of the Dream Realm. If we can't fix that we will have more problems in our world and that is something that I cannot allow. Lives have already been lost."

"It was not your fault." Wong stated and then suggested the same thing that Stephen had spent all afternoon considering.

"Perhaps it is time to request an audience with the Vishanti. You are the Sorcerer Supreme and only you can do it."

He nodded, "I don't think there will be any other alternative, but in any case I will continue my research into the night. Why would I rest, right?" He said bitterly and watched Wong's lips form a thin line.

"I feel like I'm failing you, my friend, especially at this time when your personal life is changing."

"But a Sorcerer Supreme must place his duties above his personal life, Wong. You know this very well because you were the one who told me this so many times." Defender responded dryly and then shook his head and spoke again in a calmer voice. "I'm sorry. You're a good mentor and a great friend, Wong. You've never failed me. You never could."

Wong nodded but pressed the issue "Strange, you need to take care of your pregnant wife. She needs you now more than ever."

Stephen ran his hand over his face, sighing heavily. "And how do you suggest I do that while jumping from mission to mission, meeting to meeting, and spending days and nights studying magic books in this office?"

Wong's answer was firm and decisive, "You need to delegate some tasks, Strange. These books, I can take them to the Kamar Taj with me and have them examined by our librarian. If anything important is found, you will be notified. Regarding the mission... I can go in your place if you wish."

Stephen shook his head "You belong at the Kamar Taj, Wong. The place would be a mess without you."

"Do you have a better idea? Besides, Master Hamir can take care of the place in my absense;." Wong insisted. "You already said you don't trust anyone else to do the job. Let me take over this mission and you can have some calmer days to rest."

Stephen knew his friend was right and no matter how much his pride and sense of duty said no, he ended up giving in.

"Fine, but I'll stick with the books tonight. I doubt I'll be able to sleep anyway. You can come get them by the morning."

Wong nodded "I will immediately return to the Kamar Taj to finish the preparations."

"What about the student?"

"Oh, he'll be punished. Don't worry."

Defender nodded watching Wong leave the office and close the door. The footsteps moved further away until they disappeared and the Sanctum was once again plunged into complete silence. IStephen sighed feeling the tiredness of the day hitting him. His eyes felt heavy as he tried to return to his reading, but it wasn't sleep that afflicted him, but an exhaustion so great that it seemed to consume him. He turned his attention back to his books, anyway, and barely noticed the hours passing by.

...

The Sanctum was plunged into darkness when you got home from work and you wondered if Stephen was still at the Kamar Taj at that hour. It was way past 8pm and you were working overtime almost everyday of the week since last week. It was safe to say that the last few weeks had been challenging for you as much it had been for your husband, but although you said everything was okay and that you understood, you knew he blamed himself for spending so little time with you, especially now that you found out about the pregnancy.

It was recent. Your belly wasn’t  showing yet and you hadn't told anyone. Not even your parents knew because you wanted to complete your first trimester before telling the news. Stephen had promised that he would try to spend more time with you, but since then so many things had been happening and demanding his immediate attention that it had become impossible for him to keep his promise and although you said you understood, you knew he blamed himself.

You went straight up to your room, took a shower and changed into comfortable pajamas before looking for Stephen around  the Sanctum and finally finding him in his office leaning over one of his huge books reading until exhaustion.

He tried to smile at you when you opened the door, but you could clearly see that he was not well, tiredness taking over every expression on his beautiful face, his always blue eyes, now darkened behind the lenses of his reading glasses.

"Don't tell me you spent all day here." You said, already knowing the answer.

"Pretty much." He replied sheepishly watching you approach, but instead of sitting in one of the chairs facing him, you walked around the desk and stood next to him waiting for him to turn around and then bending down to kiss him. You tasted whiskey on his lips which wasn't a good sign. Stephen only drank if he was very happy or very upset.

"Tell me how your day was, baby." He said before you had time to ask anything.

You grimaced, “Tiring and boring, but okay.”

He chuckled, "I guess that sums mine up too. Don't we make quite a pair?"

You nodded, watching him bring his hand to your belly and gently feel it. "And the baby?"

You smiled, "You know it's too early for me to feel anything, right? But overall I think it's okay. The morning sickness is killing me though."

He nodded, bending forward and placing a small kiss on your belly that made your heart flutter in your chest.

"I know I've been really busy the last few days, but I promise things will calm down." He said looking away as if he felt too guilty to look at you. You cupped his face and lifted his chin making him look at you.

"Stephen, it's okay. I get it. We've been together long enough for me to understand how things work." You assured "Besides, I have been working a lot too."

"I made you a promise..." He started to say, but you interrupted him by placing your index finger on his lip.

"I won't hold it against you, baby. I knew full well what I was getting myself into when I married the Sorcerer Supreme. It's not a job you drop anytime you want and get vacations from."

He allowed himself a sigh and you realized how much he needed to hear those words. In fact, looking at him closely you noticed how much more tired he seemed, how dark circles were appearing under his eyes and the lines on his forehead seemed deeper.

"Did you eat something?" You asked, again, already knowing the answer. He just shook his head.

"You've barely slept lately, Stephen. You know you need to rest or your body will end up forcing you to stay in bed one way or another." You said as your hand tugged on his hair tie and let his soft hair fall down his shoulders in a cascade of dark and silver strands.

"I care about you, baby." You confessed, placing the hair tie on your wrist and combing the strands with your fingers, gently undoing the knots. That small gesture that you had already repeated countless times was always enough to disarm him and as you expected, he hummed contently and moved the chair away from the desk, enough to pull you by the wait waist to position you in front of him. You straddled one of his thighs and he wrapped his strong arms around your waist and leaned forward to kiss you harder this time.  You cupped his face feeling your body melt before him and your stomach turned in that specific way that only he made you feel.

When you broke the kiss he glanced at you from behind the lenses of his glasses and you smiled "You look super cute with glasses, you know that?"

He blushed and instinctively reached to take them off as if only at that moment he had realized that he was wearing them in front of you, but you stopped him and kissed him again, feeling his hands return to your waist and the sensation in your stomach increased. You buried your face in his neck admitting. "I miss you, baby. You've barely touched me this last week and I know it's not your fault, but I really miss it."

"I know. I miss you too. Come here, kiss me."

You kissed him hard, your fingers immediately tangling themselves in his hair and a soft moan escaped his throat. The sound made you lose your composure. Without you realizing exactly what you were doing, your hips began to move back and forth, riding his muscular thigh and desperately looking for some friction.

You and Stephen had an amazing sex life and you weren't used to going without sex for a long time and eight days was a lot for you.  You needed him like air to breathe and your body searched for him instinctively.

He sighed contentedly as his hands slid from your waist to your bare thighs, his fingers digging into the soft fat there helping you move.

"You know I wasn't absent for lack of desire, don't you? I was just very tired." Stephen made a point of explaining and you smiled and bit your lower lip as you increased the movements of your hips and a moan escaped your lips. "I know. But I can help you relax a little if you let me."

Stephen nodded, raising one of his hands to your ass and squeezing your cheek as he lifted your chin and made you look into his eyes while grinding yourself shamelessly in his thigh. "I'm sure you can, but right now it seems like you're more interested in seeking your own pleasure, right?"

You knew he was just teasing. Stephen's altruism extended to bed as well. He was always more concerned about satisfying you than satisfying himself.

"Its been too long" You complained. "I spent the whole week thinking about making love to you. You barely slept by side this week. I even tried to resolve the issue myself, but I couldn't cum, it's as if my body refused to have pleasure without you there."

Stephen eyes glanced at you in complete awe "That's so beautiful, baby. You have no idea how happy you make me by telling me this."

"But now I want to make you relax, to give a little bit of a special attention to my beloved husband." You insisted, cupping his face and moaning again, but contradicting what you just said, you started to move faster, rotating your hips and looking for the delicious pressure that Stephen's thigh muscle provided on your clit and feeling yourself getting wetter between your legs, the wetness soaking his pants and making him hiss in pure surprise and satisfaction.

"It's okay love, you know I love providing pleasure for you. You have no idea how hard I am right now." He confessed lacing his fingers in your hair and tugging then a little bit.

"You're going to show me, aren't you? Tell me what you want me to do to make you feel better, baby."

Stephen smiled humming contemplatively to himself. "You're already doing it."

Resting both hands on Stephen's shoulders, you forced yourself against him, increasing the intensity of the friction and moaning, surrendering to your pleasure and a wave of heat took over you as your body found the ecstasy you were so desperately looking for.

Stephen kissed you passionately, his tongue searching for yours, sucking it lightly. He broke the kiss with a teasing bite on your lower lip and when you finally opened your eyes and allowed yourself to look at him there was a beautiful smile on his face that showed perfect teeth while also showing the crow's feet around his eyes. God, your man was so handsome.

"Satisfied?" He teased to which you immediately shook your head.

"Not until I make you forget all your worries."

"And who said I'm worried?" He replied, caressing your cheek with the back of his hand.

"The whiskey I tasted in your tongue."

He hummed "You know me way too much for me to lie to you, isn't it?"

"I don't even know why you try." You said, placing a strand of hair behind his ear.

"Want to tell me about it? I know there's not much I can do to help, but I can listen. You don't have to be the leader of the Defenders or the Sorcerer Supreme when you're with me. You can be just Stephen."

He listened silently glancing at you with tenderness and then nodded "I thank you every day for that." He said and then smiled and you noticed a slight flush in his cheeks. "I know it's cheesy to say this, but I really am a lucky man to have you as my wife, Y/n. I could never ask for a better woman."

You smiled broadly. You were used to your husband's constant compliments and it was safe to say that although he wasn't given to public displays of affection, behind close doors he was the most affectionate man in the world.

"Maybe it's a little cheesy, but I never get tired of hearing you say it." You confessed, getting up from his lap and feeling your face heat up when you saw the wet circle on his pants.

"Let's go to bed. You need to rest." You said, taking his hand and pulling lightly, hoping he would agree easily, but he didn't move a muscle and shoot you an apologetical glance.

"I promised Wong I would finish this tonight."

You sighed "Stephen..."

"I know, but Wong will take my place on the next mission and that will give me a few days off to rest. I promise things will be calmer and we will have plenty of time for both of us."

You smiled, surrendering to his charm, but not completely convinced.

"Sounds good, but it doesn't change the fact that you need some rest tonight." You said looking angrily at the gigantic books on his desk as if they were your most hated enemies and then you smiled to yourself "Perhaps... I think I can help you with that."

"With my reading?" He asked, knowing full well that it wasn't what you meant.

But you just smile, pushing his chair back to give you more space and kneeling between his legs. The act itself was self-explanatory and Stephen let out a satisfied groan.

"Will you give me your mouth, baby girl?" He asked with a dose of extra sweetness in his voice.

You bit your lower lip feeling your heart flutter with the pet name. "Do you want it?"

"Always." Defender replied watching you unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants. The gesture was enough to make his dick throb.

"You're so hard, Stephen." You said taking it in your hands. His cock was so beautiful, big and thick, veiny with a red tip. There was a drop of precum leaking from his slit and you licked it slowly, letting it stick to your tongue in a string and then sucking it into your mouth.

"You did this to me, baby. Seeing you ride my thigh left me like this." He said caressing your face and moving his fingers down to your chin, lifting your face to make you look directly at him. "You are so beautiful. From the moment I met you I knew I would be yours."

You smiled and as if you wanted to prove to him that he was right, you gave a slow and long lick on the back of his cock ending with a light suck on the sensitive head and you kept your eyes locked with his all the time. He moaned and his hips jolted against your mouth involuntarily. You placed light kisses on the side of his length, teasing him.

"Such a tease..." He whimpered, giving in to the desire. "I need to be inside your mouth. I want to feel the heat, the wetness. Such a sweet mouth."

You surrendered to his pleas and took him into your mouth, sucking him slowly and bobbing your head up and down while swirling your tongue around him to give him maximum pleasure.

Maybe Stephen didn't know, maybe he was so selfless that he lacked the ability to understand that you loved him just the same. That he was worthy of being loved in that proportion and even more.

He considered himself the luckiest man in the world to have you in his life, but you knew that in reality, you were the lucky one to have the love of a man so decent, so courageous and most importantly, so caring and attentive.

His moans filled the room and reached your ears like music as you pleasured him slowly, rotating your hand along what you couldn't take in your mouth without gagging.

"So good to me, baby... doing so good to me." He muttered softly almost as if speaking to himself.

You let go of his cock to use both hands to brush your hair out of your face and twist it into a bun and then direct one of Stephen's hands to your head to keep it there. Stephen complied by grabbing your hair in a fistful, but he didn't push, he just accepted what was being given to him willingly.

You returned your attention to your work, working your mouth and tongue along the entire length of his cock, stopping only to draw a breath of air into your lungs and then returning to pleasure him.

"Oh baby it's so good." He said as his dick pulsed in your mouth. "Can I cum in your mouth?" He asked. He always asked even if the answer was always yes.

You hummed positively feeling the weight of his other hand on your head and hot cum filling your mouth as he moaned and gasped for air. "Oh baby..." He let out a loud groan when you took him out of your mouth. "Fuck, such a sweet mouth. You are so good to me." He said caressing your cheek affectionately. "This was amazing. Thank you."

You gulped his cum down unceremoniously and responded with a proud smile as you put his cock back inside his pants.   You stood up, taking his hand again and pulling him to stand up too, but he gave you that apologetical look again making you roll your eyes.

"I know you don't want to leave here before you finish your work, but we can stay. Your office is comfortable enough. I just need you and I think you need me too."

He hesitated for a moment, but then something in your face, probably the way you batted your eyelashes at him, made him chuckle and get up from the chair.

"You know you can get anything from me when you give me that look, don't you?" He said pinching your cheek.

"Anything? Really?" You confirmed.

"Anything." He said wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him. You chuckled and wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him softly. "Then leave work for later and make love to me."

Stephen hummed allowing himself to be pulled across the room. There was a small two-seater recamier in front of the unlit fireplace and that was exactly where you led him.

The night was particularly cold so Stephen lit the fireplace with a quick and almost imperceptible gesture of his fingers and in the same way he locked the door to his office. At the beginning of your relationship he tried not to use magic in front of you, but now, years later, you were used to small things like this.

You touched his face and pulled him to your lips, kissing him like you haven't done it in days, hungrily, thirstily and most of all passionately. And oh, how he loved it when you kissed him like that.

Your hands began to unbuckle his belts and he let himself be undressed slowly, piece by piece while you devoured him with your eyes. There was something about the passion with which you looked at him that made him feel like the luckiest man on earth.

Stephen never had trouble getting a lay. Women used to throw themselves into his arms in the days when he worked as a surgeon at the hospital and he had fucked pretty much every woman that worked there, but none of that could be compared to what he had with you. You were the first woman Stephen made love to. And before, he swore that the term was nothing more than a silly romanticization of sex, but you changed his mind. You changed him completely and he knew that no sex in the world could compare to making love with someone who truly loves you.

"What is it?" You asked, probably noticing the way he looked at you as you helped him get rid of his underwear, leaving him completely naked for you. Your eyes left his for a second to see what you should already know. He was ready for you again. In fact, there was no way he wouldn't be when your eyes seemed to burn his skin with desire.

"I love you, Y/n. I know I've said this a million times, but I..."

You kissed him again, interrupting him and then nodded "And I love you. You have no idea how in love I am with you and every day I feel like I love you more."

He smiled feeling your hand running down his chest and going to where he needed you most at that moment. You grabbed him and pumped him slowly up and down and he cupped your face with both hands resting his forehead on yours "These hands..."

You just smiled, squeezing your hand around him a little tighter and then gently pushing him to sit down and proceeding to undress yourself for him. You were so beautiful. Your hair, Your eyes, the shape of your body, everything was so inviting.

You started by taking off your pajama top. You weren't wearing anything underneath it, so he was treated to the wonderful view of your breasts, the nipples hardened by the cold night air. You caressed one of your breasts to tease him, knowing full well how much he loved them. Then you reached down and took off your shorts and panties, quickly kicking them to the side on the floor and walked over to him with a proud smile on your lips. 

You knew. You knew exactly what the sight of your naked body did to your husband and you liked it.

"Come here, baby. Let me touch you. You said you miss my touch." He said.

You nodded holding the hand he extended to you and straddling his thighs.

You took both hands to the temples of his glasses and gently took them off and put them on with a smile plastered on your face. Stephen couldn't help his own smile.

"What do you think?" You asked with a cute pout.

"Charming. It looks much better on you than it does on me, that's for sure."

You shook your head, removing the glasses and placing them to the side. "I like you with glasses, even though you don't like me to see you wearing them."

Stephen stroked your cheek. "I'm a vain man. It's hard to accept that I have to wear them, let alone that you see me with them."

 "Silly." You said, leaning in to kiss him and Stephen wasted no time, he needed to be inside you. He missed you as much as you missed him.

He spat into his hand and rubbed the saliva over the red, extremely sensitive head and directed it towards your entrance. You both moaned loudly as you let yourself sink down onto his cock, the penetration easy but tight. Stephen loved how you felt so warm and wet around him, it felt so good. To be inside you always felt like home.

There was nothing in the world that compared to the feeling of having Stephen inside you. He was big, thick, but not only that, he was the love of your life.

His hands grabbed your waist as you began to move slowly, rotating your hips sensually and feeling him fill every inch of you. You closed your eyes and increased the pace, your hand seeking support on his shoulder, the other twisting a nipple between your fingers.

"Just like that, baby. You look so beautiful riding me like this. Feels so good."

He pulled you to his lips and kissed you hard, his hips thrusting up which made you moan between his lips. He brought one hand between you and started circling your clit with it which made your entire body shake on top of his and he hummed in satisfaction. "So sensitive. Tell me, was it that touch you were missing so much?"

You nodded vehemently "Oh yes" You responded increasing the pace of your hips as you moved up and down, fucking him, but it didn't feel like It was enough, you needed more.

"Baby please..." You murmured between countless tireless kisses "...need more."

He immediately held your waist and started thrusting up, going deep and giving you the relief you wanted. A little scream left your lips as he reached that special spot inside you.

"Yes, yes, yes..." You screamed amid the sound of your bodies colliding "Oh my god, baby..." But he interrupted your cries with a hungry kiss as he held you tight in his arms and got up dragging you to the floor.  Your back touched the plush rug and his lips trailed down your chin and neck until they found their destination on your breasts. He held them with both trembling hands as he sucked one nipple and then the other and gave small bites to your skin, hiding his face between them and moaning as he did so.

"Stephen..." You begged and he surrendered. He directed his dick back to your entrance and slowly penetrated you, burying his face in the crook of your neck while your legs were intertwined behind his back and he began to thrust slowly, but putting more strength and intensity with each thrust until he reached a hard rhythm.

You wrapped your arm around his back, nails digging into his flesh while the other got lost in the sea of ​​dark and silver hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands, pulling them with each thrust that was quickly taking you to your limit.

Your moans right in his ear and your fingers tugging at his hair in rhythm with each thrust were triggers that were driving Stephen to his limit. He could feel his balls tightening, his cock was pulsing deliciously and he didn't want to fight it. He was in paradise, lost between your legs he felt like the happiest man in the world. He searched for your lips and kissed you hard feeling your walls contract around him.

"Baby tell me you're close" He asked between your lips and you nodded.

"Yes baby, so close. No need to hold it. Just give it to me." You said between desperate kisses on his lips. You knew him so well, he even needed to tell you that he was about to cum. You simply knew how to read all the signs on his body.

Stephen moaned loudly surrendering to his own pleasure. He gave three more strong thrusts and then stopped, burying his face in your neck and moaning deliciously in your ear. The sound was the ultimate trigger that launched you straight into your high as you felt him filling you with hot cum and your walls contracted around him as your legs trembled beneath him.

"Oh baby I love you." He whispered in your ear before allowing himself to look at you. There was a beautiful smile on his lips and tenderness in his blue eyes. All the tiredness you saw in them seemed to have disappeared.

...

The Sanctum was dark and silent when Wong stepped through the portal into the main hall. However, the light emanating through Defender's office door showed that the Sorcerer Supreme was still engrossed in his tireless work.

That made Wong sigh. A man needed to recognize that he was just a man and needed rest like any other human being.

Wong devoted himself to the duty that brought him there in the first place and was about to leave when he decided to beg Stephen to go to sleep. He knocked and waited. The sorcerer's voice came soon after.

"Yes."

Wong tried the handle, but the door was locked, which was strange.

"Can I come in?" He asked and when he heard a chuckle coming from the room he understood.

"I don't think it would be appropriate at the moment." Defender replied and another chuckle was heard. "Is it something important? Give me two minutes. I'll meet you in the lounge."

Wong smiled to himself. All his worries melting away. "No. It's okay. I talked to everyone involved and we managed to work out the latest plans for the mission. We'll leave tomorrow night. I'll keep you informed. Take the opportunity to rest, Stephen."

He turned to leave and then he heard Y/n's familiar voice "Good night, Wong."

"Indeed, my dear." He muttered to himself opening a portal back to Kamar Taj. The Sorcerer Supreme would be fine as long as he had his wife to make sure that happened."

...

"He's going to be traumatized." You said, laughing softly.

Although the night was cold, the heat coming from the fireplace combined with the heavy blanket Stephen had conjured and his own body heat were more than enough to keep you warm.

He was lying with his back on the rug and his arm extended to support your shoulders. Your legs were tangled with his lazily.

"He should be pretty used to it by now." He responded caressing your cheek with the back of his hand. "He was worried about me, just like you. That's why he offered to go on the mission in my place."

You nodded, lifting your head to stare at him. "I know things get difficult sometimes, but you need to learn to delegate, Stephen. Especially now."

"I know." He sighed and you noticed how he looked less tired now. You didn’t really think you could save him of all his problems, but it was undeniable that he felt better when he spent quality time with you.

"He knows." Stephen confessed.

You smirked knowing exactly what he was talking about. "I thought we agreed to keep it a secret until the end of the first trimester."

He nodded. "I needed to tell him. Wong is my best friend and my right-hand man. He helps me manage this madness that is Kamar Taj. He needed to know and besides, I know you two are going to be okay and I can't wait to see it growing inside of you."  He said, lowering his hand to your belly and keeping it there.

"Still, I'd rather wait before telling anyone else. Promise me you won't tell anyone else."

"I promise."

You smiled "Are you really happy with it? I know we weren't planning on it."

"I'm very happy. And terrified." He said chuckling and you cupped his face and kissed him.

"Me too. But I know we can do this because we have each other."

Stephen nodded and tilted his head up to kiss you again, this time harder and then turned around putting you underneath him, his hips pushing his way between your legs, his face lost in the sea of ​​your hair taking a deep breath and then kissing you again .

"You're like medicine to me, you know? It's incredible how you can make me feel better when I'm having a hard day. I was on the verge of a terrible migraine, but now I'm cured."

You held his face in your hands and smiled proudly "It's good to know that I have such power over the great Sorcerer Supreme."

He kissed you and lightly bit your lower lip "You have no idea" He said grounding his fast hardening cock against your core, which made you moan softly into his lips.

"Again?" You confirmed, watching him bring a hand between you. He rubbed himself a few times and then entered you again.

“Fuck yes.” He responded with a groan.

It seemed that the books had been long forgotten.

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing!

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[cyten0]

A Symphony In Crimson

Act 1: A Movement in Black

Chapter 16

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...You cry.

What else can you do but cry?

You killed one country, and now you’ve trapped another in a paradox!

They’ll all be stuck in here with you, because you broke the wish that carried their hopes and dreams!!! Their salvation!!!

… No. No, you owe it to them to keep trying. To save them, SOMEHOW. You CAN’T let this happen again!

THINK. If you can’t complete the wish, you have to shatter it! Break it, even if it breaks you!! You weren't planning to live after this anyways.

But you also have to defeat the king. Wish or no, you owe it to them to do that. If only you could stop the loop there. End it… Freeze it…

...That’s it! You remember. You came to this conclusion a while ago, that if you could collide the kings wish with yours directly, they’d both shatter. Stop the reversing, and reverse the stopping!! ...But he’d never do that. Never give up his wish. He’d rather kill everyone then do that…

...But

…You don’t need him for that, do you?

You just need his heart.

You’ll have to keep it beating, to take it’s power. But if you eat him, or infect him, that’s a simple thing, isn’t it? Simply assimilate him into yourself, and make his heart yours!

You said you’d never do that to a human but he doesn’t count anymore does he? He’s just a monster! Just a monster...

Yes. Of course. You’ll kill the monster yourself. Take his heart, save the country.

But. You’ll need to be alone with him for that. You can’t do something that monstrous in front of your family. Nonononono you absolutely cannot! You need them to trust you enough to let you face him alone.

That trust. You need to help them again. Like you did that one time! They trusted you then, right? You don’t… remember how it went. Not exactly. It’s a little hard to think! You didn’t eat flesh the last loop, Odile’s been too suspicious lately. No nutrients for the brain! But you’ve eaten plenty of sadnesses, so you won’t be tempted, right?… right?

… You’d best keep it quick. Just in case. Surely, you can do this quickly, right? Surely.

...Get up Siffrin. You have. A country. To save.

◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉

You’re looking over your dating profiles. Change, you really aren’t getting far at all with this. You need to so something else. You probably should go check up on Siffrin, they have napped for a bit! Maybe-

Oh, there they are! Oh. Change, they don’t look good at all! Like a walking corpse! Y-you can’t really say that to them. Um. Just uh.

◉ “Hi Siffrin? Um. Are you okay? You look like you had a really bad nightmare.”

✦ “I’m fine Mira. Do you want help with your papers?”

◉ “What! Oh, n-no of course not, don’t worry about them! They’re-”

✦ “Bonding papers, right? You seem like your struggling.”

How did he-? ...N-Nevermind, you guess you can’t hide that anymore.

◉ “I-I. Um… Yes.”

They take a seat down next to you.

◉ “W-Well they're more dating profiles, but yes. I suppose I could use a hand with them. It’s something I was looking into before the king, but… I am choosing a potential lifelong partner, and I’m… not sure what to look for.”

✦ “Do you have to?”

Wait WHAT?!?

✦ “You don’t need to be with anyone. Clearly you don’t want to. So why even bother?”

Don’t want to- How does he!?! Change he shouldn’t just assume he knows you like this!

✦ “Better to accept it now then later. Better to stay the same then make yourself suffer.”

Oh that's it, Now he’s thrown change into it! You just!

You slap him in the face.

Crack

O-Oh No! What! How did! His neck just! Their head is almost backwards! You didn’t slap them that hard! Oh no oh no you didn’t want to hurt them you just wanted them to stop, you-!

...You hear. A strange sound. Like something wet ripping. As their head. Rights itself. Their body doesn’t even move. And you hear their bones snap into place… What…

◉ “S-Siffrin?”

✦ “…”

◉ “I-I.. Just. You can’t act like you know me like that, and then throw change into things, this is really important I-”

✦ “No. You’d know best, wouldn’t you Mira?”

They turn to you, their face grim, unfeeling. You can feel yourself shake. Something is wrong!

✦ “You’re strong. You care about things. And no one knows you better then yourself, right? You’ve always been so strong. Always trying to be better. Which is why you should know. That strength? That will, that lets you get through anything? It means NOTHING when you try and fight yourself.”

They stare at you. There is this strange shade glowing from the dark of their eyes. You can’t move. Change, what is-

✦ “You can try and break through, but it’ll just hurt yourself. Hurt those around you, as you rip yourself apart trying to claw out that piece you think is wrong. You can’t fight yourself. You can’t run from yourself. No matter how much you try.”

Their every word strikes at your fears. Your fear that you'll be unable to change, your fear that something is wrong with you, your fear that your wrong in trying. It feels like they tower over you. This isn’t like them at all! It’s like some dark part of your mind come to life!

✦ “We never can.”

Wait… No, something is VERY wrong!… You aren’t letting this stand!

◉ “I… Siffrin, I don’t know what’s happening with you. But that doesn’t let you talk to me like that!”

They shrink back into their cloak, hiding their face under their hat. You! Change, now you’re angry at them! They shouldn’t have said ANY of that! No matter WHAT’S happening!!!

◉ “Is that REALLY what you think? That I can't Change?! I can't believe you!!!"

◉ “I don’t know where you got the idea that you know me all of a sudden, but I’m not having it! I thought you better then this! Better then running around poking at my worst parts! And… I'm not going to put up with it!”

You. Are. Furious!

◉ “You’ve teased me before, but I thought you better then to try and actually hurt me! But now here you are! You don’t get to talk about me like that, and you DEFINITELY don't get to talk about Changing like that!”

Change, you can’t talk to them right now!

◉ “...I’m going to go to the clocktower. I don’t want to see you until tonight.”

You storm off.

...For a brief bit. You turn back. What was that? That wasn’t… You don’t know what that was… You’ll have to talk with the others. Maybe talk with Isabeau. Something is up.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

You… Why did you do that. That wasn’t the right way to talk about it at all. You got caught off guard and just started talking and… You couldn’t help it!

Stars, you should be better then this!! Better at keeping yourself at check, even now!! Better at keeping all your worst thoughts back in a little bottle at the back of your mind, better at keeping the monster you are from ever seeing the light of day, and...

...It’s fine. You’ll just… Have to talk to her later. Explain what you meant. You… can’t afford to loop right now. Not that you have a way before tomorrow without stabbing your own heart out, but.

If you did, you’d struggle more to be human. You might even have to resort to that blinding corpse again, and you don’t want that. You’d dig yourself even further into this pit.

After all, look what taking too long did already! Could have lasted long enough to hunt and recover if killing the king didn’t take so long! Could maybe have granted your wish! You can’t afford to make more mistakes, you’ve made too many. You have to make this work.

You can’t fail them. Not again, you refuse to fail them again. You have to do something right by them, you have to make it up to them somehow after all this!! HAVE to leave them better then when you started.

Even if she doesn’t get it now, it’ll help eventually right? After you're gone, she’ll get to figure out what you meant. But you’d rather she knows NOW, because she was happy when she did, and after all she did for you, you just-!

You’ll just. Try and salvage this. It should be fine.

Maybe. Odile next? Get that out of the way. Before Mira tells her anything. So that she’ll already trust you some before. Give you a chance to explain yourself. Odile doesn’t trust easy, so it’s best to do that now.

◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆

You’re currently shopping, getting ready for tomorrow. Got most of the ingredients Boniface needs for snacks tomorrow, including some dried meats for Siffrin. Now you just need to look into anything else that might help.

Oh. You notice Siffrin approaching out of the corner of your eye. Gems, they do not look good. Like someone on their deathbed from illness. Perhaps their mysterious condition is causing issues? It may be worth getting them food earlier if so.

◆ “Oh, Siffrin. You look ill. Is everything alright?”

✦ “I’m fine Odile! Actually-”

◆ “No, something’s clearly wrong, what-”

✦ “Have you heard of a familytale?”

Wait. What.

...Hold on. Why did they know to mention that?… They're clearly trying to change the topic, but they know more then they should.

◆ “...I may have. Why?”

✦ “I heard someone might have one! Had a feeling you might want to check.”

Hm… You do want one, but. That reasoning feels. Flimsy. And you still notice that he’s avoiding their poor state… Let’s see where this goes.

◆ “Lead the way, I suppose.”

They nod, and begin to head out. As you follow them, you notice their stance. They're not walking like normal. The way they seem to glide across the ground, the way their movements seem on instinct, the way they move to their destination without a single pause…

It reminds you of their more feral combat stance. The one they take at their peak. But their clearly not at that peak. And they're certainly not in combat.

You enter the boulangerie. Siffrin approaches a small girl near the side.

✦ “Excuse me, I heard you have a certain book?”

“Oh, um. Only book I have is this one!”

She holds up a book labeled ‘Paperase Familytale’. Their father speaks up

“What? You had it Charline? Hm… I suppose you must be looking for it?”

✦ “Yes, if it’s alright for us to borrow it? We’ll make sure to give it back before leaving.”

“Well, I suppose there’s no harm in that.”

The little girl nods in agreement, and hands Siffrin the book.

You did catch that. The boulanger didn’t know their daughter had it. Yet another thing Siffrin seems to know out of nowhere…

Siffrin turns to you, with a smile on their face.

✦ “Do you want to go somewhere quiet to read?”

◆ “… Sure. Have a place in mind?”

They nod. And you follow them.

>>>

...You know this clearing. Found it earlier actually. It would be a nice reading spot. You thought as much when you first saw it… And yet. It’s Siffrin who led you here. Like they're taking a page out of your own brain.

You’d look at this book. But. Right now. Siffrin takes priority. You look them over, trying to see if you can’t glean anything else.

✦ “… It’s a really interesting book, right? You know. Culturally.”

◆ “… Siffrin. How did you know that girl had a familytale?”

✦ “Oh uh! Just. Heard it. Around.”

◆ “...Sure. Just... Around…. Better question then. How did you know I wanted to read one?”

They don’t respond. Glancing around nervous.

◆ “And why here? I literally found this spot yesterday. Odd that you’d bring me here…”

They still say nothing. Hiding their face under their hat.

◆ “… I don’t mind people keeping secrets, Siffrin. But I do NOT appreciate Secrets about myself, or when friends keep those secrets from me. Especially if those secrets are important.”

You notice the stress on them visibly.

◆ “And something tells me this is important. Gems… You're literally shaking. You look so tense you're going to snap… I was already worried, but now I’m VERY worried. What’s wrong, How can I-”

✦ “STO̵͓͝P.”

They freeze. And start to rise. Wait. Their eyes… What is that strange shade…?

✦ “Don’t mind secrets, Odile? That’s not what it looks like from here. You can say that all you want, but every time something goes ever so slightly off, you just HAVE to pry, HAVE to look further in. HAVE to know, Don’t you?”

There is this glare in their face. Blank, yet their voice drips with displeasure. No, there’s more to it…

✦ “What does it take, Odile? What does it take, for you to just TRUST that someone has their secrets in check? No matter what I do, you keep prying, keep searching, keep looking into things you shouldn’t. I do EVERYTHING to keep myself safe, to be a good human for you all. Try and get away from the corpses. But You. Just. Keep. Prying.”

Safe? Human? Corpses, PLURAL?… This is bad. This is very bad. Gems alive, what is happening to Siffrin? What HAPPENED to Siffrin?

✦ “You just can’t get yourself to trust others can you? CAN YOU? ...Why would you? You’ve had plenty taken from you.”

What. Nonono Gems what do they know? How do they-

✦ “You can’t trust family to not hurt you. Your dear mother proved that, didn’t they?”

!!! You won’t take that! You grip his collar and stare daggers at them. They do NOT get to talk about that!

… The shade in their eyes fades. They… look distressed… Like they didn't mean to... Gems alive, you are not able to have this conversation right now. You let go.

◆ “… Thank you for the familytale. I’m sure you must be busy. I’ll see you at the clocktower.”

You head out of the clearing.

◆ “Don’t come by for a bit.”

… Gems. You know they're in bad shape. SOMETHING has come to haunt them. But you’re too angry to deal with it. Let Isabeau know, and move on. He’s good at handling emotional situations.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

… Blind it all. You got frustrated. Lost it. Why. Why is it so hard. Why is just being a normal, good person so BLINDING hard. Why can’t you just get yourself together for A FEW BLINDING MINUTES, at least for Odile!

...She was so angry at you. You thought she would kill you, then and there. You’d deserve it. You shouldn’t have said any of that. You hate making her mad.

She’s so nice normally. She understands, at least a bit, what you go through. Makes everything a bit lighter. And now, instead of doing that for her, everything just feels heavier for both of you. And you hate it. You ruined it again…

… She definitely won’t trust you now. Not at all. And the others probably won't either now. But.

It’s fine. You weren’t planning to live past this day. If you just have to stop them from joining you against the king by force, then It’ll be fine. She can kill you after for it, or maybe you’ll already be dead. As long as she at least comes to the house, it’ll be okay. She might not trust you, but you don’t need her trust to protect her.

But… You’d like to do a good thing for someone at least. Even if some of them hate you. You deserve hatred. You ruined everything. But you want to help them.

Bonnie. You can at least do well by Bonnie, right? You have to.

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You’re just kinda waiting. Dunno what to do. These look like good veggies, so if Dile got food around here, you should be able to make dinner good. You hope she got those malangas.

Oh, there’s Frin!… Wow they look really crabbing bad. Like. BAD bad.

✿ “...heyfrin. You… you okay?”

✦ “...Yeah! Um. Is there. Anything you need?”

… You wouldn’t ask normally, not to Frin. But they don’t look good, and they asked to help, so they must REALLY want to help for some reason. So…

✿ “Um… you sure? Anything?”

✦ “Of course! Anything.”

✿ “… I have an idea. Come on!”

You grab Frin’s hand, and start draggin them out of town. You notice they're… not movin right. And they keep lookin at you funny. Maybe they had a real crabbin bad nightmare or something?… Should be okay. You’ll just make extra food for them later!

>>>

Okay! You see some sadnesses in the distance. This should work good!

✿ “Okay. Frin. I want you to teach me how to fight!”

✦ “Okay!”

✿ “Wait really!?”

✦ “Sure, you did say anything!”

Frin looks off to the side, and fishes something out of their coat

✦ “I actually have something that should work really nicely for you! You’re probably going to have to stay in the backline, but this should help you fight even from there!”

Frin pulls out a strange device, and hands it to you.

✿ “Wait really?!?”

✦ “Yes. This is called a craft revolver. It let's you shoot craft like Odile, as long as it’s charged up beforehand. Now, you do have to be careful, it IS a weapon. So let me tell you how it works first.”

Frin explains the craft revolver. This is so crabbing COOL! You make extra sure about the safety thing. Don’t wanna hurt anyone… But you think you can do good with this! You’re really good at noticing stuff, and that's all this is! And keepin your hands steady, which you can do real good!

✦ “Alright. Let’s give it a test run. I’ll go distract that sadness over there. You stay here, and prepare to shoot it. I’ll keep it still as I can, so take your time.”

O-Okay…. Frin’s lookin a little sick, but they wouldn’t be fightin a sadness if they weren’t sure about it. So It’s fine!

You watch Frin head out. They start going around the sadness. You start aiming… Gotta be careful. Don’t hit Frin. He said to take it slow, so you can make sure you only hit the sadness.

They're fightin quite a bit. Frin isn’t movin much, probs to make it easier for you. But… the sadness is also movin funny. It’s not movin like a normal sadness. You guess it makes aiming a bit easier but…

!!!You saw Frin trip on a branch! They're on the ground like-! You gotta-!

BANG

Nonononono You panicked, you hit the sadness, but-! You also hit Frin!!!! You run to them, you gotta make sure their okay, please be okay, please be okay!

✿ “FRIN!!!!”

You get close to Frin! Nonono their covering their main eye! Nononono!!!

✦ “I-It’s okay Bonnie! I’m fine! Just got some sadness in my eye!”

No they didn’t!!! You saw it! You saw the blast go right there!!! Nononono!

✦ “I’m fine, see!”

They lift their hand and-!!!!

Their eye! It’s… there’s still blood around it but! Their eye!

It’s black, with some kind of strange X shape in a weird shade…

They flinch, and cover it up again.

✿ “...F-Frin?”

✦ “S-sorry. Um. Just. Give me a second… it’s fine, I’m not hurt, just-”

! Their using that stupid face again! That crabbing voice! When they lie about things being fine!

✿ “No it’s NOT! What’s going on Frin, why did your eye look like that?!? A-And why was it back!?! I saw it get hit! Why did-”

✦ “It’s fine! It’s fine it’s fine!”

Frin’s being dumb, they need healing, You can help! You check your pockets for a sour tonic. Found it- OW! You think you broke a vial earlier. Crab it, it’s just a little cut, Frin needs the tonic-

!!! Frin’s scared! Their panting and shaking! No!

✿ “Frin, It’s okay, I got healing, Lemme-”

✦ “St̵̖̒ay̸̨͂ ̴̡͘Bac̵̙̔k!!̵̖̎!̴̗̈”

Frin starts backing away from you, suddenly! They stop covering up their eye, and start covering their mouth for some reason? Their eye still looks weird, but now it’s… shaking?!

✦ “Nonononono not now not now-”

✿ “F-Frin? What’s going on?”

Your starting to get scared. You’ve never seen Frin scared like this…

You hear something. Something further ahead is coming close, fast! You turn your head and see a sadness running straight at you!!!

✦ “D̵̬͙͌̿͝O̵̧͎̺͊́N’T YOU̵̼̅ ̶̬͉́͒DAR̴̪͇͐̿E̴̖̊!!!̶͎̯͆!̴̘̰̊̿͠!̵̖̟̤̅̚”

Before you can blink, the sadness is stabbed through the heart by… some kind of fleshy, toothy thing?!?

Frin leaps at the sadness, as he starts to turn into some kind of monster, and starts ripping it apart!!! And… He starts….

Eating it.

F-Frin. Is eating the sadness…

Nonono this is all wrong!!! this… Frin…

The sadness. Is gone. And Frin. Starts to. Turn back. To normal….

They look at you. And their eye. Is normal. But that weird shade. Is still glowing under it.

✿ “Ḅ̴͠o̴̩͑n̷͖̏n̴̠̈i̶̠̐ẹ̷́…”

That voice…. They're still…

…

You run.

…

You get back to town. Frin’s not here yet. Must not have followed. You… Za. You gotta see Za!

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

… You cry. Blind it all. BLIND IT ALL!!!!

You… You forgot. To help them be steady, and then they shot you on accident, and.. and it takes energy to heal stuff like that. And then… You couldn’t think. Your body was screaming for food, and then it smelled Bonnie and… And you couldn’t stop thinking about that time and….

… You scared them. Stars, you scared them. Seeing them scared like that. You never wanted to see them that scared again. Especially of you. You just wanted to help them, why does it have to go so wrong?!? Why can’t you ever do something right ONCE IN YOUR WHOLE BLINDING MONSTER LIFE!!!!

You… You don’t know what to do now. You don’t know what to do. You can feel the scent of sugar but you force it back. If you go back, you’ll make this worse. You just…

… Isa. Isa. Isa is nice. Isa can help you be calm. And If you can help Isa, in any way. Maybe. Just maybe. You can go in peace. You owe it to Isa to make things better.

▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲▲

...You’re worried about Sif. With what everyone has been saying, Something very bad is happening to them. Mirabelle was upset, Odile was frustrated, and poor Bonnie couldn't even make a full sentence! You just. Hope they’ll talk about it with you. Maybe.

Oh. There they are… Yeah. They look bad. Like they’d fall apart in the slightest breeze. In every way.

✦ “Hey Isa!”

There’s this half hearted smile, planted over their face. Trying to cover up the despair they had when they rounded the corner.

▲ “Oh. Sif… You… You doing Okay?”

✦ “...I’m fine.”

▲ “You sure? The others mentioned you were… not doing so good today. What’s up, is it something you can tell your buddy Isa?”

They stay silent. You don’t want to push them on this, but you kinda have to.

▲ “… Look, I get it, something is up, and you don’t want to talk about it, but it’s okay! Just. Please? I want to help the others understand what’s going on, and I want to understand as well, we’re all worried about you.”

They start to shake. You're a little nervous, but you're sure you can diffuse this whole mess.

▲ “Please?”

They freeze. And turn to you.

✦ “...You're scared, aren’t you?”

H-huh?

✦ “I can hear your heartbeat. You're scared. Scared they're right. Scared I’d hurt people. Scared of me.”

▲ “W-Wait just a-”

✦ “You’re always so blinding scared. You put up such a brave face, but deep down you’re a scared little rabbit. Always scared of something going wrong, Always scared that you’ll mess something up again. You’ll always hide your emotions behind your strong, silly persona, hoping the fear will go away.”

You don’t know how to react. Their eyes are glowing a strange shade. They stare at you. The frailness gone.

✦ “But what’s worse is the idea that someone you like could be bad. Someone close would be a danger. Because that would hurt far more. I-”

They put their face in their cloak, the weird aura vanishing.

✦ “… Just go Isa. They were right. So just go. Tell them what you want, it won’t matter.”

You….

▲ “Sif, I-”

They turn their face up, furious.

✦ “I said-”

Siffrin’s face rips apart as their mouth opens up across their entire body into a fanged maw. They morph into a towering creature, looming over you. Their eyes turn into an unnatural darkness with a strange shape in that violent shade. Lengthy hands grip the earth around you, holding them up. Twisting, black, fanged protrusions of flesh leech out of their cloak. Their eyes cry blood.

✦ “Ǧ̶̮̙̯̙̖͕͈̓̇̀̉͊͒͗̕͝O̷͕̫͓͓̻̻̻̿̏̕!!!”

You… You don’t know what to do. You freeze for a bit.

And then run.

You… Sif… What was…

...You get out of sight of the favor tree. Catch your breath. Whatever that was was straight out of a horror story!!

But. You realize. Whatever that was. They did it to push you away. Whatever is happening. They're just as scared as you. And… You don’t know what you can even do about that. You just.

You need to talk to the others. Maybe one of them will have ideas. Find out what you can do. Your friend. He’s in pain. And you don’t know what to do.

...You don’t know what scares you most right now.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

You watch as Isa flees. And you turn yourself back…

...Now they won’t have to worry about you. Now they know what you are. And then he and the others can hate you. And then when you’re gone. They won’t be hurt, at least.

… You might as well talk to Loop. Fill them in on your plan.

✸ “That… went poorly. With all of them, really.”

✦ “It’s fine.”

✸ “It clearly isn’t.”

✦ “It won’t matter, this is the last loop.”

✸ “Hm?! You have a plan? Even after that conversation with the Head Housemaiden?”

✦ “We can’t fufill the wish. Not my part at least. But we can still break it.”

✸ “How? Exactly? You don’t exactly have the time and resources to counter the wish. Nothing strong enough for this, and barely the knowledge how.”

✦ “I don’t have to. There’s a perfect counter wish already here. And it just so happens to be the main objective.”

Loop takes a second to process that.

✸ “The kings wish…. You know already he’s not going to cooperate. You kinda need him to in order to collide wishes. Last time you tried that, it didn’t go well at all, Stardust.”

✦ “I don’t need him. I just need his heart.”

✸ “… No.”

✦ “No?”

✸ “No, you are not eating him. You are not assimilating him. You swore never to cross that line.”

✦ “He doesn’t count, he’s a monster.”

✸ “A monster of a person, but still a person!”

✦ “The entire Country wished for it! No one will care what methods I use! Especially if I die for it!”

✸ “BLIND IT ALL, Stardust I didn’t Kill a man so you could be a murderer!”

…

Loop….Killed…

✦ “What.”

✸ “I-I…”

✦ “… Loop. Where. Did you get. That body.”

✸ “… It was a desperate situation.”

✦ “YOU-”

✸ “There wasn’t a better option!”

✦ “I TR̷̪̕U̴͈̐STED̵̼́ ̸̢̉YOŨ̸̡!̵͍͆!̵͖͘!!”

Loop flinches.

✸ “I… I’m sorry.”

You!!! All those times!!!!….

✦ “… I know better then to trust sorry from monsters.”

✸ “…”

✦ “We’re done here. Goodbye Loop. And don’t worry. You won’t be seeing me here again.”

… You go. And hide in the woods. Until nightfall.

>>>>>>

… It’s dark out. The family. Is all in the clocktower… They must have all had dinner already… Your stomach hurts… You’re so hungry… You sneak in. Through the roof. So they won’t see you. So you can listen in.

▲ “...And I came back here. I didn’t know what to think…”

◉ “… I don’t get it, what’s happened to him? He was fine earlier, and then-”

◆ “No. Whatever this is, it’s been around for a while. I told you, Siffrin practically admitted as such when talking to me.”

◉ “S-Still…”

◆ “… Look, everyone. There’s a chance Siffrin might come back. So we should talk about what we’re going to do tomorrow.”

▲ “You don’t mean going without him?”

◆ “I mean making sure he stays here in Dormont until we take care of the King. Until we have time to deal with this.”

▲ “Look, I get what you're talking about, but It’s still Siffrin! Scariness and… distress aside, we can’t just leave him."

✿ “I don’t wanna leave Frin like that! It’s gotta be why he said mean things to you all, right?”

◉ “Yeah, madame, we can’t just-”

◆ “LISTEN to me! We will be fighting the KING tomorrow, everyone!!! Do you think we can TRUST Siffrin right now? After they’ve been hiding THIS?!?…"

Odile goes quiet. The room goes quiet

◆ “...They could be a danger, to us and themselves, and we don't have time. This is a critical moment. We need to be a team. Could you do it?… Could you trust your lives to them right now?”

No one can answer her.

◆ “...Because I don't even know if they trust themselves."

…

You knew this would happen but…

It hurts. To hear it.

… So this is how you’ll leave them...

You cut your arm open. And dip a tendril in the wound's ink. Then write your final message to them outside the door in blood. Your epitaph. The last words of a monster.

...

And then. You leave.

…

You begin to sing your song. As your many parts, writhing inside the house, begin to rise to the stage, ready to join the melody, you head towards the building that shall serve as your stage, ready to take the role of conductor, for this final, bloody act. Your Swansong.

But not just yours. No. After all, your songs have always been good for one thing. And only one thing.

...It’s time.

You have. A king. To kill.

[warping-realities]

The Dark Lord's Last Curse

It will be over, it will finally be over. Harry can't believe that after all that time, all their losses, Voldemort is finally gone. The young man started to open a shy smile in the middle of Hogwarts great hall. Only to be hit by a wave of energy he had never felt in his life, and with it the cold voice of the Dark Lord hissing at him.

"You may think you've beaten me Potter, but even in death the Dark Lord's vengeance reaches you. This is my final curse and it will take away everything you hold dear and make that Muggle lover Dumbledore's worst nightmare come true. But serves you both right, anyone who mixes with pigs should live like one."

At that moment the boy lost his consciousness, without feeling that his famous scar was disappearing, leaving in its place immaculate skin.

...

“You did not do as I asked. You never treated Harry as a son. He has known nothing but neglect and often cruelty at your hands. The best that can be said is that he has at least escaped the appalling damage you have inflicted upon the unfortunate boy sitting between you.”

...

Harry woke up in his room at number 4 Privet Drive, with the strangest dream he had ever had in his life. It involved a school of magic and a Lord... Vol... Vold... something. Bizarre. He stretched, rubbed his eyes and sat up in bed, for a moment he thought about putting his glasses on. But then he remembered that he hadn't needed them in years, not since his aunt and uncle paid for the expensive correction surgery. Man, the Dursleys would give him and his cousin anything they wanted, as the room full of tech gadgets and boxing gear attested. Still drowsy the boy scratched his powerful pectorals with the feeling that he was forgetting something very important.

He forced his sluggish mind to try to remember and... he knew he had something planned with Duddley, something his cousin really wanted and he as his best friend would go along with it. No, no, that wasn't true, an irritating little voice told him in the back of his head, soon to be drowned out by a stronger and much dumber voice. Mate, today was an important day, he just needed to remember why, but thinking had never been his forte. Since they were little Duddley was the leader and he was a good follower. Even if now he was bigger than his cousin in musculature. His smaller stature made it easier for him to gain powerful muscles while training at the boxing academy. But the power dinamics between the two remained the same. Duddley was a lot smarter after all. And speaking of the devil, the blond and muscular boy appeared at his cousin's door at that moment.

"You still haven't got up, sleepyhead? Get ready at once, today is the big day."

"Yeah, I know that Big D, the big day... I just don't remember why."

"Potter, how stupid you are, it's a good thing I'm the brains around here! Go have your breakfast, dad wants to talk to you before we leave."

Harry felt butterflies in his stomach. The fear of his uncle's tantrum setting in. But why? Uncle Vernon never even raised his voice at him. The man treated him as if he were a prince.

"Potter, you asshole, you shouldn't have drink so much last night. Damn Piers and his dares." The young man grumbled as he picked up the first pieces of clothing he found on the bedroom floor.

He went downstairs, still sleepy, stopping beside the closet under the stairs and staring at it for a few seconds, with the strange image of his uncle locking him in that place. Nonsense. He had a fit of laughter just imagining it.

"What the fuck was in those drinks?" He thought, walk a few steps and stop again looking at the living room table. Full of pictures of him and his cousin. He scratched his head, with the strangest feeling that the images should move. If Uncle Vernon heard such nonsense he might really lose his temper. For some reason he was surprised to see himself in those pictures, as if for some strange reason he shouldn't be there.

The first image showed a young Petunia holding baby Harry in her arms, accompanied by a smiling Duddley.

The second was a photo of Vernon with the two boys in his office at Grunnings the drill company he had been a director of before doing a very lucrative deal with old Mr. Mason a few years ago and then expanding the business into other areas.

Harry remembered that day very well, after all it was his twelfth birthday and he deserved to have that day just for him. As a reward for giving in he got a video game and a television just for him so he didn't have to share with Duddley , which his cousin thought was a brilliant idea, perhaps because it had been his idea. Strangely, the image of a woman screaming as she saw an owl fly through the living room window popped into his mind. What the fuck was that? An owl in the room? Harry was never the imaginative type, that drink really should have been spiked, Piers was going to get a beat up when Harry saw him again.

Finally, a photo of him and Duddley at Smeltings, the school the two attended until a few days before. That one had been taken right after Duddley had lost weight and won the boxing championship. Harry once again found himself invaded by old memories, he and Dudley trying on the uniform, just before Harry's 11th birthday, the two engaging in a lively struggle with the walking sticks that were part of the school uniform.

Of course, the two of them had later used those canes on far more interesting targets. Still with the memory of that fun afternoon in mind, the boy walked into the kitchen, being welcomed by his uncle's smiling face.

"Good morning, Uncle Vernon."

"Harry, my boy, I need to have a word with you... what are you doing?" The man stopped when he saw the boy serve him the dish.

"Sorry Uncle, is there a problem with the eggs?"

"No, they're perfect, but why are you serving? You've never done anything like that in your life. Hahaha. Smart boy, trying to buy off his old uncle. Sit down Harry, you don't have to try to please me. I just want to ask you a favor."

Harry sat at the table, thoughtful, what the fuck was going on with him that day? Was it just the hangover?"

"I know where you and Duddley went yesterday. Don't get me wrong boy, I think every healthy boy has to enjoy life. But I ask that you don't let your aunt see. Boy, your father… He was a piece of shit, sorry to tell you that again boy... but it’s true. That man could handle a good drink and that's what worries Petunia. So leave it to Mallorca. Enjoy it, after all it's the first time you and Duddley will go alone to our beach house.”

Harry's first instinct was to yell at his uncle to defend his father, but why would he do that? His father had died in a car accident, probably drunk after dragging his mother across the country. Harry liked a good drink too, but he and Duddley would have to be more discreet, if even the Dursleys had noticed. For a long time the two boys avoided showing all their activities, even though they knew that the Dursleys would support them what they didn't see they didn't feel. And it was precisely remembering that that the boy opened a smile and spoke to his uncle.

"I will, Uncle, but I assure you what happened yesterday was a one-time thing. Me and Duddley have never drunk before, it was all Gordon and Piers' idea. I swear."

"I knew it! I told Petunia yesterday, "Tunia, our boys wouldn't do something like that. We raise them well. They are good kids and we are good parents. Isn't that right, lad?"

"You are the best, Uncle! Now I'm going to change, after all it's the big day." Mallorca! How could he forget, they'd been arranging this for months, finally vacationing alone so they could do whatever the fuck they wanted. He was slower than usual if he had forgotten about that.

After getting ready and picking up his bags, Harry went to meet his cousin who was already waiting for him in the brand new car he had received as a present for his eighteenth birthday. Harry was counting the days for his own birthday, knowing that he would also receive a machine like that. He and Big D were itching to race each other. The two had wanted to do it for years, though Petunia was uncharacteristically firm in her denials, likely due to how she lost her sister.

And speaking of her, his aunt was waiting for him in the front yard while Duddley laughed as he watched his father try to fit into the sports car he was driving back from the airport. His aunt turned to Harry, staring at him with her pale eyes, which for a brief moment the boy thought were full of rancor, but which only showed adoration.

"Harry dear, I might not like your father, he wasn't up to par with your mother, but Lily... Lily was eccentric, if you knew the hideous boy she hung out with when we were little! Yet when you lost your mother I lost my sister. But she left me you and I did everything to make sure you had everything you wanted, just like Dudders. My two little boys so grown up! Going away alone! Please take care of each other!

"Don't worry Aunt Petunia, Dudders and I will take care of ourselves, I promise we'll call every day!" If we can remember, thought the boy smiling inwardly.

"Hurry up Potter! It's time for a little fun" shouted his cousin from the car.

....

The two boys were enjoying the late afternoon at the beach. When Duddley called out to his cousin, pointing to a group of younger boys.

"Look at those little shits, they're begging for a spanking."

"True, but they can wait." Harry replied. Not used to being crossed, Duddley turned on his cousin.

"And may I know why, Potter?"

"The reason, Big D is those two hot girls looking at us. The redhead is mine!" Replied Harry.

"And you think you can get a hottie like that, Potter?"

"You know I can Big D. Once they prove it they always come back." Said Harry pointing to his cock.

"They love my magic wand!"

[fatuismooches]

Helloo Smooches!!

I had an idea about mixing in two ideas - childhood friend + fragile!reader with Pantalone (let's not let Dottore steal all the spotlight)

Basically, bc of living in poverty reader is very weak and Pantalone concludes you'll be dead any day soon. But despite everything Reader keeps pushing through and he's intrigued. Not only you somehow keep living, you're so nice and try to help others around you any way you can, including Pantalone. I think after becoming friends he advices you to care more about yourself, seeing your frail condition

At one point your condition becomes worse and you need medicine which is already expensive, but for you? You can only get it if you work 24/7, but you physically can't. However, miraculously, you get that medicine. After some time you learn that it was Pantalone who worked all day and night for you and reader can't thank him enough. You may learn he didn't eat for a few days and worked in ungodly conditions just to save you. Reader feels very guilty about all of this, but Pantalone reassures them that it's better than you dying. And it's so strange, even for Panta himself. Like, there are tons of kids who are in the same condition as you or even worse, then why he's so keen to save you?

The rest is history. You two become inseparable, helping each other get through life (no one of you mentions it, but Pantalone works harder and more than you, due to your illness).

When he becomes the Regrator, you're still together. But now he can properly take care of both of you, since you were damaged pretty badly by your childhood. But if Pantalone's immune system got very strong and he only really has bad eyesight, then you... It's not a pretty scene, but he can keep you in stable state thanks to all the expensive doctors, medicine and anything you need for your comfort. I also feel both of you get flashbacks and nightmares about past, so both of you are here to comfort each other

However, if you did die before seeing Regrator in all his glory... He's devastated. He makes sure your grave stays in top-notch condition. Pantalone is grateful for the time you were with him, when Reader became a little ray on sunshine in his dark life, but won't deny he wants you back. However, even endless wealth can't bring reader back. But at least now Pantalone knows for sure he won't lose anything close to him due to lack of mora ever again

-🥀, who went insane

DOTTORE STEALING THE SPOTLIGHT IS SOOO TRUE IM SO SORRY 😭😭💀 and UGHHH THIS IS FEEDING MY PANTALONE BRAINROT SO GOOD, 🥀 ANON ILY ❤️❤️❤️

Pantalone just not caring about you in the beginning is unfortunately true at first 😭 He is well aware that it is a dog-eat-dog world out there, especially in the environment where you two are. Everyone is out for themselves, no one will look out for each other lest they get stabbed in the back eventually. The young boy has seen more death and suffering than a child of his age should, and he thinks that soon, you will become one of them... but you don't. And despite your ailing condition you still find it in you to help others and the younger kids... he thinks you are simultaneously the strangest, kindest, and dumbest person he's ever met. How could you be so kind in a world like this? You've surely seen the same things he has... you should be putting yourself first, you're squandering what life and health you have left on random people!

He just doesn't understand... he doesn't seek to figure you out first, but you are the only kid his age around these parts, and you do always try to hang around him... so he relents. He becomes your friend. And he... comes to like you. To care for you. The boy has never felt that to someone else before. It makes him act different around you. To go to certain extents he would never dream of doing for anyone but himself. To get little trinkets for you, that really aren't worth anything at all, but he likes how they make you smile. To share bits of his meager rations with you, to which you always giggle and ask if you could feed him. It's strange, even stranger when he goes beyond that. Did your medicine deal a significant blow to his savings? Yes. Did he care? No. Seeing you smiling seemed to satisfy some hole in his chest that has been empty since birth. Pantalone can't help but want you to stay by his side. And you do too.

Ugh yes he would treat you higher than royalty like you deserve after how much you suffered with him for all of those years. I imagine he would be so overprotective and concerned for you, if you had even the most minor health scare he would be more worried than YOU. Regardless you bet he will fulfill every single wish you had since childhood, nothing is off the table, Pantalone WILL make it happy. Yup I imagine Pantalone sometimes has nightmares about losing everything he built his way up to and going back to the poor boy alone on the streets... and you have your own trauma from your condition so just :( lots of nighttime cuddles and soft back rubs

🥀 ANON YOU JUST HAD TO END IT WITH ANGST... To say he would be crushed is an understatement. Part of his motivation and reason to ascend to the top was to be able to give you the life you deserve - a comforting, peaceful, and rich one. But you were gone... he was so, so close to saving you. He still loves you so much. And although he has the Mora to never lose anything close to him again... will there really be anything like that for him ever again after he lost you?

[crying-fantasies]

still the same person who forgot anonymously thing..I really admire and love your angst lore it make my heart hurt (in a gud way)

Thanks for the ask, don't worry I won't show your account name anon!

SG Mayhem, well, to begin with, it should mean that SG Soundwave finally scored a date with his intended to begin with.

The Shatter Glass universe is a very awful one, as the autobots keep having the script on their favor even in this reality, there's such little time to stop and think about the glee of life itself, even for SG Soundwave, but hey, finding joy and showing it to the others is his job, among other things.

SG Soundwave finds his love for the human race even when humans are anything but bitter towards his own race, in the very few songs and recordings of the same almost lost ones, when the humans get tipsy seems to be his favorite part of the day not because they do such silly things, he loves it because it means his little friends are putting their trust in him, in the decepticons, and he loves when they all start to sing, looking at them with the same adoration a child does to the most strange creature, his weight put on his arms as his pedes kick slowly in the air, chest piece on the floor as the humans sing "The look".

His interest focused, as usual, over his human intended, the world seems to slow down as there's that carefree smile you hardly give in the dark world you live, dancing messily and with a hard body, smiling with your flat, little teeth as the lyrics fall from your lips, hair a mess as you enjoy yourself.

In the most forgotten, rotten, stressed, hardened and sad human being he found your light a beautiful shiny drop in all the bitter of situations even when you brushed him away once and then indefinitely.

SG Soundwave, like any other of his other versions, is anything but perseverant.

His perseverance gets him more than a short hello, more than a scornful glance, soon a truthful ounce of expectancy shows on your eyes when you see him, once he is sure you won't take cover to avoid his presence he finally starts courting you, back in Kaon music was so appreciated, he makes his own version of "The look" as he knows is human tradition to dedicate someone a very well know song, he gives it his own touch to make it his own to some degree, his version and yours.

Some cons and humans look the display, most humans look grossed out of their minds when you take place on his waiting servo, making him feel the most fortunate con alive, some cons looking just say "huh, finally".

And many cons can only say "fragging finally" when some find a tiny but discernable smell in you and the beginning of a pretty mark on the skin where your neck meets your shoulder almost a year later.

SG Mayhem is forged during the time the decepticons take over Kaon once again, for a moment SG Soundwave has a happy family, as he can see you smile sincerely once again holding the protoform, the little one searching for your warm body.

It's a dream come true, one that quickly creates a living nightmare.

The cassettes are with Mayhem and you, SG Soundwave is with High Command before the living quarters are attacked, non combative forces are decimated and Soundwave fears the worst when his spark pulses but he can't perceive your life in the other end, his cassettes return to him with a scared Mayhem.

SG Mayhem is maybe one of the most scarred ones.

SG Soundwave tries to raise his sparkling in the best environment he can give him, he wants to keep your memory alive, but Primus is it hard when all Mayhem does is think about how to kill the autobots better, once Mayhem is old enough he tries to kill SG Sideswipe himself once his body is matured because he was an autobot, things got so bad the youngling wanted answers from SG Megatron himself in how he could leave an autobot, who has murdered thousands, who was part of the same group that killed his carrier right in front of him, be now a decepticon.

SG Megatron, in all his wisdom, reminds the youngling that SG Sideswipe changed alliances long before Mayhem was even online, it was not his fault, as everyone has their own choices, and as hard as it is to say in front of his old friend, you made your decision of giving your life for the ones you loved most.

"Decisions, decisions, decisions. It's all about fragging decisions!"

SG Soundwave looks at the fragment of his own spark and your soul walk away, nothing on him more than a few energon cubes on his subspace, SG Frenzy and SG Rumble each holding a pede of the youngling to try to stop him.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"If Megatron doesn't kill Optimus Prime, I'll do it myself"

Of course, SG Soundwave stops him, a desperate sire holding to what he has left and never wishing war to befall his precious gift, SG Buzzsaw and SG Ravage try to make him see reason as SG Laserbeak can only watch horrified and SG Ratbat cries for everyone to stop shouting, crying out loud "Your carrier would've never wanted this for you!"

SG Mayhem is full of resentment for any autobot, but is all the sadness and bitterness he seems to have inherited from you, such an endless sadness that, even when SG Soundwave tried to stop it, only gave path for an auto destructive rage, if SG Mayhem were to meet the IDW equivalent of his sire, he would hate him because, even if it was only for a short period of time, he was an autobot ally.

[itstheheebiejeebies]

Prompt: you woke me up screaming from a nightmare, and I’m tired, so let’s cuddle so the nightmares don’t come anymore

Pairing: Dougley at the flak house

This one isn't crazy long, but it is on the longer side so it's going under a read more

A scream cuts through the room jerking James awake, Ev was screaming, why was Ev screaming? The wires in his brain connect, bad dream. He hops out of his bed and sprints across the room to where Ev lay.

“Ev, Ev, honey you gotta wake up, come on, it’s just a dream,” he gently shook Ev’s arm.

Ev jerked awake, “Doug?”

“Yeah, it’s me, just me.”

“You’re okay.”

“Yeah,” his forehead furrowed, “of course I am.” Realization crossed his face, “You were dreaming about Bremen weren’t you.”

Ev looked away embarrassed, but James just tightened the grip he still had on Ev’s forearm just a little.

“I keep dreaming about it too. That hit we took straight through the nose, the look on Croz’s face after. I bet I looked the same, but I’ve never seen him look like that. Just… Petrified and shocked in equal measure. I dream about our landing, because you were a fucking God that day, but…” he shook his head, “We coulda died a hundred ways. And it’s only because of you and some crazy luck that we didn’t. You don’t gotta be embarrassed.”

Ev shifted so he was sitting up, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget that mission if I live to be a hundred. When we took that hit, I swear my heart stopped. Until I heard you and Croz on the comms again, until I knew you were alive, my heart stopped dead and I couldn’t think. I don’t even know how long it took you two to report back, or how many times I asked for you to respond. Just that Jack called my name a couple times, so it must have been a few,” Ev looks like he’s a thousand miles away, back in their plane, soaring through that horrific sky all over again.

“Budge over,” James decrees.

“What?”

“I wasn’t sleeping,” a small lie, but for the best, “you’re not sleeping well, it makes sense. Just budge over. We’ll share the bed and that way if you start dreaming again, or I do, then we can wake each other up faster.”

“Jamie, I don’t…”

“Ev,” James’ voice has taken on a no nonsense tone that it rarely had outside of the hand-offs of their plane, “do it for me. Please, I, I don’t really think I can sleep alone.”

He’d never been able to deny one of his boys anything, they were his, and that meant it was his job to take care of them in the sky and on the ground. He moved to accommodate Jamie.

James briefly settles his head on Ev’s shoulder before sliding under the covers, “Thanks.”

Ev hums in affirmation, strangely frozen in place.

“Come on Ev, just lay back down.”

It was easier to move once he’d been told to, he supposed the military training had to come in handy eventually.

Dougie’s arm crossed over Ev’s chest and his breath hitched in response.

He wanted to say something, he felt like he was supposed to. Friends didn’t do this. It wasn’t normal.

“Ev, just let yourself stop thinking for a minute,” James had settled in and closed his eyes, “I can hear your brain sputtering like an engine on fire and you’re never gonna get some sleep like that. Just get comfortable.”

“How do you just, how is it so easy for you?”

Dougie opened his eyes, “Ev, I’ve trusted you with my life since the first time I climbed into a plane with you. Sharing a bed is nothing. Now go the hell to sleep. And hope neither of us dreams about that goddamned mission again. I’d take dreaming about Croz getting airsick if it meant a break from that.”

Ev snorted a laugh, and James smiled. His plan had worked, Ev had relaxed.

“Goodnight James.”

“Night Ev.”

[blueshistorysims]

March 1934

Montgomery couldn’t remember the last time he felt this free, sighing lazily.

The woman’s voice, the one stroking his hair, laughed. “Don’t fall asleep on me now.”

“How can I when I am yer arms?”

She giggled.

“Besides,” he whispered, “this is a dream. Canna sleep in a dream.”

Edeline smiled. “If it is a dream, then it is a good one.”

“I wish I could stay here forever.”

She laughed again as he heard the cries of a baby.

He sat up, confused. “I hear a bairn.”

Edeline scoffed, and when he turned to face her, she was holding a baby girl with his red hair and blue eyes. “Well, I would hope so, considering Maggie is sitting right with us.”

“Maggie?”

“Our daughter, darling. You’re acting quite strange, you know.” She looked around, unfazed by his shocked expression. “Bernie! Come here!”

“Bernie? But-but-” He cut himself off the moment a boy of around fourteen ran toward the blanket, his face a mix of his and Edeline’s.

“Yes, Mum?”

“I think your father has some sort of temporary amnesia.”

Bernie turned to Montgomery. “Ya alright, Da?” He had a faint Scottish accent. 

The Scotsman stood up, looking back and forth. “This-this isn’t real. Yer not real. It’s only a dream.”

“Of course it’s not real, Montgomery,” a voice he recognized well replied, and he turned to see Samira with Miranda in her lap. “It’s only a dream.”

He panted heavily, trying to force himself awake.

He closed his eyes tightly until everything was black, but when he opened them, he found himself surrounded by darkness, and in front of him, his two dead wives, dressed like a cabaret act in a giant v-shaped glass in their favorite colors, red and green.

“Do you remember?” Samira asked. “The cabaret shows we used to go to in London? The girls dressed like this, didn’t they?”

Edeline smiled like a shark as the pair posed seductively. “We never went to shows like this when we were together. You only told me you had loved men when you proposed. Were you ashamed of your proclivities? That I, a sheltered English girl, could not understand the decadence of it all?”

He swallowed, equally disturbed and transfixed. “No, I-It’s not that. It weren’t like that. I… were ashamed of meself, wanted to lock that part of meself away from ya, from… everythin’.”

The women were suddenly embracing one another, still making intense eye contact. 

“I wonder if you would have left me if I had lived and you still had met Samira. You loved her passionately… until she died in your arms.”

Samira finally turned her head, gazing at Edeline with an emotion Montgomery didn’t recognize. “I always stared at her photographs. She was beautiful. Pale, blonde, thin… I’d wonder what I’d do if I ever met her.” She caressed the blonde woman’s face. “Do you think she would love me the way you did? Would she let me kiss her lips?” She whispered before kissing her gently.

Montgomery watched, entranced as his wives ravished one another with a creeping feeling of dread falling upon him as if he was privy to something he was not meant to see. 

Samira looked up from her neck, her dark brown eyes twinkling with malice. “How do you would tell her? Tell Edeline that you fell in love with her brother, and he doesn’t love you. That the only reason you have yet to take your life is because of some foolish wish that he will return those feelings, and you won’t be alone anymore—someone to hold you in your sleep and whisper soothing words when you have nightmares of your dead. All you have is your daughter. Our daughter.”

He opened his mouth and found he could not speak. He felt faint, his vision blurring, bleeding into color, and Montgomery found himself in his bedroom, held by Edeline as Samira watched with the same enigmatic expression from before.

“Hush now, Edeline whispered, “it shall be over soon. I have you in my arms.”

“But it’s not real.”

“It could be,” Samira mused. “Do you wish it?”

He did not answer, letting his two wives touch and kiss him as he closed his eyes. Perhaps he could enjoy it, enjoy them, even if he knew he was in some sort of dream or nightmare or somewhere in between. He felt their touch on his body and wondered how he’d managed five years of no romantic love. But then perhaps he hadn’t, thinking his quitting of everything that mattered to him, staying shut up in a house owned by a duke and duchess, who were supposed to be everything he opposed about the class system, but instead, he was hopelessly in love with one and cared too deeply for the other. 

The touch suddenly stopped, and he opened his eyes, his vision perfect for once, to see Edeline and Samira staring at him from the foot of his bed, looking exactly as they did when they perished. Blood covered Edeline’s chest and mouth, staining her olive green nightgown she loved so dearly as the blood from Samira’s navy skirt and legs dripped onto the floor. Overwhelming guilt racked his body as they stared with lifeless eyes, boring into his soul.

“It is funny your face was the last one we ever saw,” Edeline muttered.

“Do you want it to be real?” Samira asked again. 

“No-I dinna ken—aye,” he finally confessed.

He gasped awake, finding himself in his bedroom once more, the morning rays pouring in from the window. He was awake. The dream was over. But it was not a consolation, he quickly realized as tears welled up in his eyes, and he fell back into his bed, beginning to sob.

By the time Miranda, still in her nightgown, wandered into his room, looking for her father, Montgomery was completely unaware of anything else other than his hammering heart and aching cries. Miranda watched him, too shocked to do anything else.

[effloradox]

i forgot that you existed; dracula.

track one of LOVER

pairing: dracula x f!reader

synopsis: you share dreams of past lives with your soulmate

word count: 3.4k

Your dreams have always been a source of confusion amongst your family. They’ve always been vivid, and almost always been the same. Flashes of dancing in crowded rooms with people wearing extravagant clothing at parties running until way after the clock struck midnight. Your soulmate’s always been the sole person you’ve danced with in the dream, and even if you can’t make out his face, you can tell from the way the other dancers look at him he must be handsome. His presence seems to command the attention of everyone in the room, and if it were to happen in this life then you know you’d be much too nervous to have everyone’s eyes on you to enjoy dancing.

Being able to connect to your soulmate via your dreams has always been a strange system. You get flashes of past lives together but can’t physically see what your soulmate looks like until you reunite with them in this life. You have a few clues; you know that your soulmate’s tall, like over six foot tall, and it seems like in a past life he was rich if your suspicion that the ball you’ve been dancing in every night is in honour of your soulmate.

Your dreams have been getting increasingly darker though, with flashes of things that you can’t quite place but leave you waking up crying or screaming. It’s started to worry your parents when they call to see how you are and it’s clear you’ve not been sleeping. There’s no medicine to suppress soulmate dreams and sleeping tablets leave you feeling trapped in lucid dreams, aware it’s a dream and yet unable to escape to the safety of the waking world.

So far you’ve been to multiple soulmate specialists and they’ve been unable to help with the problem, and you’ve resorted to setting a plethora of alarms through the night, allowing yourself to rest without ever falling into your REM cycle. It’s been worrying your friends, especially Jack, which you’re chalking up to his occupation as a doctor, but if nothing improves then it’s currently your only way to stay sane and rest without having a nightmare. It’s not been particularly helpful in keeping a steady job either, since your permanent exhaustion leaves you with heavy brain fog most days. It’s not been the easiest earning the money for rent, and whilst Jack has assured you that he’s earning enough to cover you for rent for at least a little while, you can’t help but feel bad that more of the financial burden has fallen onto him.

In a way, him offering you a chance to apply for the research program at the Jonathan Harker Foundation feels a bit like a lifeline. You don’t expect to be chosen, so when you get the phone call asking you to come in, you can’t help the surprise that leaks into your tone when you tell the woman on the phone you’ll be ready to head there as soon as possible. Jack was out at a club when you got the call, and you’re not expecting him to be there so you quickly grab a small overnight bag, and wait for the car they’re sending to show up. The journey there is quiet, and you pass the time scrolling Instagram, only stopping when you see a post from Jack’s friend Lucy announcing her engagement. It makes you wince slightly, you know Jack’s had a crush on her forever, you can’t imagine how he’s feeling right now. You send a quick text asking if he’s okay, putting your phone away just as you pull up to the foundation, thanking the driver as you get out of the car and head inside. Signing in for the process is easy enough, it’s mainly just a nurse asking if your medical records are up to date whilst you change into a pair of scrubs. The last thing she gives you before sending you on your way is a small lanyard that has your blood type on before you’re led into a small auditorium by another member of staff.

The presentation starts not too long after you’ve sat down, and the video of the recent exploration of the Demeter fills the projection screen. There’s only a handful of people sitting, maybe 20 at most, and the video is only disturbed when some more people walk in. You turn slightly, and are surprised to see Jack walk in with Dr Van Helsing. The woman giving the presentation continues after a small interlude, and then the video shifts to them finding a coffin that had been on the Demeter. You lose interest slightly as she talks about how unusual it was that the coffin was unchanged after over a century, and your attention only shifts back when they open the case and you get a full look at the body stored within it.

The frozen body of Count Dracula shown on screen immediately demands your full attention, and you can’t help but feel like you know that face. You can’t shake the feeling that he’s familiar though in what way you wouldn’t be able to say. The woman giving the presentation continues on to say about how well preserved the body was, and the speech only takes a shift when the diver on the screen places a hand too close to the teeth of Dracula. The water is immediately filled with blood and the video pauses on the image of the diver’s finger caught in the mouth of the Count.

“The body was not preserved. Dracula was, in fact, alive, though dormant. Apparently, in some restorative coma in which he would have remained if I hadn’t been stupid enough to feed him. So, in case you’re wondering, vampires bite.” The presenter lifted her arm at the end of her speech, showing off a cast on her arm that she had concealed until then. A few of the people around you let out a nervous chuckle, but the sombre mood returns as the presenter continues to speak. “You need to know what you’re signing up for. We will keep you safe but this isn’t just about giving blood. It’s not just another student drug trial, there is a reason it is better paid. Now, you will have controlled exposure to a vampire, are we clear?” A general murmur of agreement passes through the other volunteers in the room, and the presenter seems to look closely at you all for any signs of hesitation or regret. When she is apparently satisfied, she continues with her lecture.

“Obviously at this point, having triggered his revivification, we opted for a tactical retreat. We resealed the box so nothing could interfere with the process, and we monitored from the shore. It took Dracula another ten hours to fully revive and, of course, we were waiting for him on the beach. He was brought here shortly after, but not before he had killed someone. We are not telling you this to scare you, but you have to be aware of all of the risks that can come from being part of the programme.”

“How can you guarantee our safety?” The voice comes from behind you, and most heads in the room turn to face the man who spoke.

“Dracula is currently sealed in a solid steel and glass prison cell, above which is a roof that retracts and allows sunlight inside which we can direct to keep him in place. You will only enter the room when the sun is up so if he were to act out in any way, the sunlight would immediately put a stop to it. There are also multiple armed guards stationed within the room at any given time. There will be risk, of course, but we will do everything in our power to keep you safe. Does that answer your question?” The man who spoke up nodded and the presenter leant back on the table. “Does anyone else have any questions?”

“Does he speak English?”

“He does. When he spoke briefly to Doctor Van Helsing, he said that the blood he consumes allows him to access memories or skills that the person feeding him possesses. When I fed him, he learned how to speak English.” The presenter answers a few more questions before more researchers come in and escort all the volunteers out. You’re quick to make your way to Jack’s side as they ask you all to separate according to your blood types, leading the various groups down a maze of corridors leading deeper into the facility.

“You certainly took your time getting here.”

“I wasn’t expecting to get the phone call at - in the morning.” With everything that had happened, you’d forgotten that Jack had been on a night out when you’d been picked up. You winced slightly at the lapse in your memory.

“How’re you feeling? I saw Lucy announce her engagement on Instagram.” You watch as Jack’s expression falters slightly at the reminder of the night’s bombshell and you can’t help but reach out and squeeze his hand. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t be. Probably for the best. We never would’ve worked out anyway.”

“You don’t know that, Jack.” The smile Jack sends your way is full of sadness, you both know that he’s thought the silhouette in his dreams was Lucy for the longest time. You can’t even begin to imagine how it feels to find out that they aren’t destined to be together the way Jack has hoped for. You try to change the subject over to how well Zoe’s looking, all things considered and, once the conversation is on steadier ground, it’s easy to pass well over an hour in the waiting room chatting quietly with your friend until a man in a lab coat walks into the room, a clipboard in hand.

“Miss (Y/N)? We’re ready for you now.” You feel the eyes of everyone in the room land on you as you stand slowly. You try to hide it, but you can feel your legs shaking slightly with anxiety. You feel Jack squeeze your hand gently before letting go as you make your way towards the door and leave the other volunteers behind. Whilst they’ve guaranteed your safety, you can’t help but feel like you’re walking towards your own execution. You know you’re finally there when Zoe is standing outside a door waiting for you. She looks much more relaxed than you do, like this is an everyday occurrence for her rather than some freak miracle.

You’re not sure what to expect when you’re led into the holding room for Dracula. It’s been described to you in detail, but it’s still strange walking into the room and seeing the glass prison for yourself. The Count himself is lying down on the cot they provided for him, arms crossed behind his head, and when the door closes behind you, he doesn’t move.

“You’ve brought yet another lamb to slaughter then?” The voice makes you jolt and you hear a quiet chuckle from the cell. “Oh it’s another jumpy one then?”

You can’t help the anxiety on your face as the attendant guides you to the door of the cell. You watch as the guard shifts the sunlight, blocking Dracula from getting to the door as the attendant unlocks it. They give you a slight nudge to encourage you to walk in and you force yourself to take a deep breath before stepping into the cell, listening as the door is closed behind you. The vampire hasn’t moved to get up yet, and, despite the barrier of sunlight separating the two of you, you can’t help but look nervously over to Zoe who’s watching closely from outside.

“Count Dracula, I believe it would be rude for you to ignore your guest. Again.” The vampire let out an exaggerated sigh before moving to stand up.

“I’d hardly call it rude Dr Van Helsing, do you make a habit of looking your food in the eye before you…”

The vampire's words trail off as he finally looks at you. In a second, he’s up on his feet, standing just before the barrier of sunlight. He’s looking at you with a kind of reverence you have only ever seen in your dreams, and things suddenly slot into place in your mind. It’s him. He’s the man who’s been haunting your dreams for as long as you can remember. Time seems to grind to a halt for both of you as your dreams flash through your mind, this time with his face crystal clear in your mind.

You take a step forward without even thinking, working purely on instinct, before a pair of arms are wrapped around you and you're pulled back to the door of the cage. Dracula’s expression shifts from reverence to fury, as he snarls at the person holding onto you. You watched as he moved towards you, seemingly forgetting about the wall of sunlight separating the two of you until it had come into contact with his skin and he instantly recoiled back into the shade, rage still evident on his face. The two of you continue to look at each other even as you’re pulled out of the cage and the door is slammed shut. You realise that the person who pulled you out is Zoe, her face scrunched with fury as she glares at the vampire. She gives you a quick once-over to check that you’re not hurt, frowning at the slightly dazed look you’re sporting. She turns back to the vampire, who’s eyes haven’t left yours.

“What did you do to her?” If he hears Zoe, Count Dracula gives no indication of doing so. He walks towards the wall of the cell to be as close to the two of you as possible. When he next speaks, he ignores Zoe completely, his focus solely on you.

“Well, this is a surprise, isn’t it? After all this time, I assumed you would have passed me by. I have crossed oceans of time to find you, my dear. I suppose I crossed a literal ocean as well.” To Zoe’s credit, she seems to work out what has happened quickly and, once she understands, she’s quick to grab you once again, pulling you back to the door leading to the rest of the facility. You’re not sure if it’s the sheer exhaustion of not having one of your naps or the shock of meeting your soulmate but you can barely find it in you to fight against the harsh grip on your arm, and you allow yourself to be pulled out, keenly aware that Dracula’s voice is getting more aggressive as he yells for Zoe to let go of you. You can still hear him even when you’re halfway down the corridor, Zoe’s grip still acting like a lifeline to a reality that doesn’t seem to make any sense anymore.

Whilst you don’t know Zoe very well, she knows Jack much better than you after all, you know that there’s no way she’ll let you go back in to see Dracula after finding out you’re his soulmate. She’s good enough to get someone to drive you back home so you can try and get some rest and then you're being gently escorted out of the facility and back into the harsh reality of the world. It occurs to you that Jack has no idea about how earth shattering the day has been for you as well as him and you send a text to him letting him know you’ll meet him back at the house and you have news to tell him before he worries about where you’ve gone. It’s all you can do to not fall asleep in the car and when you close your front door you head immediately to your room and all but collapse onto your bed. You set a timer giving yourself an hour to rest and then take a well needed sleep.

It’s quiet when you wake up. It’s never particularly loud in the house, but you’d expect to hear the gentle thrum of the boiler if Jack had come home and turned the heating on, or maybe just the sound of him moving around downstairs but it’s weirdly silent. You’re always groggy when you’ve had a nap (definitely a result of you avoiding any real sleep), so your first port of call is to grab your phone and head downstairs to make yourself a coffee. You make your way slowly down the stairs, checking for any messages. You have two texts; one from Jack, and one from Zoe. The message from Jack says he’ll be home soon and is excited to see you, which is somewhat strange since it was sent almost as soon as you fell asleep and he’s still not back. You finish making your coffee and you take a moment to process the last 24 hours before checking Zoe’s text. Reading it makes your blood run cold.

Dracula has escaped. He took Jack’s phone. We’re sending someone to pick you up.

The implications of the text are unnerving to say the least. You’re not sure if it means that Dracula of all people was the one to reply to your message or he took it after Jack replied to you but you make a mental note to ignore any messages from Jack and only keep in touch with Zoe.

The knocking on the front door makes you jump, cutting through the eerie silence that was dominating the house and pulling you out of your thoughts. You put the empty mug in the sink, pocketing your phone before opening the door. You don’t recognise the man on the other side, and he doesn’t strike you as a scientist. He looks almost nervous for some reason, and you noticed that his hand shook slightly as he shifted his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. He doesn’t quite look you in the eye when he finally looks at you.

“I was sent to collect you.” There’s a small part of your brain that doesn’t trust the man in front of you, but you wouldn’t be surprised if the Zoe had specifically chosen a driver you hadn’t met before so you’re quick to grab your house keys, locking the door behind you and following the man to the car with blacked-out windows that he heads to. The drive is in silence again, and when he pulls up on the drive of a moderately sized house rather than the Harker Foundation, your anxiety spikes immediately. It’s an area you don’t recognise, and it occurs to you that you wouldn’t be able to make your way home unaided.

“I thought I’d be going back to the Foundation.”

“This is a safe house. It’s where I was instructed to drop you off.” You let out a soft acknowledgement, pulling your phone out and sending a message to Zoe that you’re at the safe house before climbing out of the car. You can sense the driver watching you as you walk to the door, testing the handle and letting yourself in when you find it to be unlocked. It’s dark inside, reflecting the setting of the sun outside. You walk into the main room of the house, and your only source of light is a small candle. All the curtains have been drawn and you can’t help but feel like this is some kind of trap. When you hear something shift behind you, you’re quick to turn and you let out a scream when you see the looming figure of Count Dracula standing in the doorway. He doesn’t react to your scream except for a small smile appearing on his face.

“Now, there’s no need to scream, dearest. You know I won’t do anything to harm you.” You back away, immediately feeling like a deer in the headlights. You only stop when you feel the wall against your back and you have nowhere else to go.

“What did you do to Jack?”

“Nothing. He misplaced his phone at the institute, I merely found it and happened upon your number.”

“How did you find where we live?”

“Jack very helpfully had it labelled on his Google Maps.”

“And the man outside?”

“My lawyer. He’s been rather helpful in helping me to adjust to modern living.”

“What do you want with me?”

“I’ve done nothing but dream of you for over a century my dear. I think it’s high time we get to know each other.” The vampire steps towards you, in a move that feels like he’s sealing your fate. In what feels like a recreation of one of your recurring dreams, he stops in front of you, and offers you one of his hands. “May I have this dance?”