#But i wish i could be more comfortable with it. I have never had things adjusted to me like at all until i was an adult and got my diagnose

[icdrawings]

The Doughlings

Doey & Reader

Distraught, angered, and numb

Was all you could feel while staring at Doey's now dead body of frozen dough.

Throughout the factory you've learned about his past or well - their past. These poor boys, forced to be stuck together into one person. Each having their own right to be angry.

You kept looking at him, his deformed body resembling the 3 kids inside of him - 3 innocent souls. You walked over to him, taking a minute of hesitation with each step until you were right in front of him. Your legs gave out making you sit. You took off your grab-pack and reached out for one of their hands, it was cold and limp. You could only stare at that small hand, caressing it with your thumb, trying to give a little bit of comfort. Through our this journey you've never once shown emotion, never once made a sound but after meeting Doey you only wished you could have been more expressive with him.

"I'm sorry..." Was barely over a whisper as you let a single tear roll down your face.

You don't know how long you were there but you finally got up, put on the grab-pack and went to the door. Waiting for the hand scanner to load you started to contemplate your next steps 'I need to find Poppy, if she's even alive and figure out what went wrong'

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you nearly missed a cracking sound from behind you Turning fast to look at Doey's body again.

It was still there - black and frozen. You thought you were hearing things but you knew better, you've never let your guard down.

You kept an eye on it - waiting for something, anything. Then you saw it, your frozen ally's body started to crack. There was something moving inside of it, almost as if something was trying to get out.

You didn't want to stick around and find out what. Looked back at the scanner now half way done you kept listening closely to the sounds taking - note when it got louder until the door finally opened.

You were about to make a run for it when you felt something grab onto your leg.

You stood still, as if your body was the one frozen in place. It was heavy and warm and wrapped around your leg. It was almost like someone was hugging you.

Taking a deep yet shaky breath you slowly looked down to confront whatever was there. Only to be shocked that on your leg was a little Doey. You couldn't comprehend what you were seeing. He looked up at you with his hollow eyes - full of innocence.

He started to smile "mommy!"

He hugged your leg tighter with his little hands. You couldn't understand what was happening, Doey was dead, you had killed him with your own hands and yet this little Doey was here calling you his mother. You couldn't even think some more before he started talking again

"Mommy?... Mommy are you okay?..." He looked a bit sadden by your delayed reaction

You kept staring at him - intensely with a stone face. A part of you wants to be happy that he's not trying to kill you but the other half wants to just cry. In this staring contest, you to reach your hand out towards him. Your hand was shaking after what happened in the upper floors but you've done your best to keep it still.

You took your time and luckily little Doey was very patient while being excited - bouncing a bit. Gently you placed your hand down on top of his head feeling the little curls of clay. He let your leg go only for him to capture your hand instead, keeping it in place - seemingly enjoying the warmth and started to giggle.

"Mommy! Mommy!" his smile was huge

You soften a bit and knelt down to take a better look at him. He was about the size of your calf and he sounded more of a child than his original voice.

His body was covered with yellow and so was his face but looking closely his face he also had orange and red freckles.

"Do you know who I am?" You were so caught up in examining him that you almost didn't acknowledge the question. Taking another good look at him.

Only one name comes to mind

"...jack?"

[tarnishedxknight]

Ashelia froze for a moment. Did... did Larsa not know Gabranth was Landisian? Well and why not, she supposed. I didn't know Basch was Archadian, not until last night. "Yes. He and Basch lived there until they were sixteen. Basch told me last night. As I said, we... we discussed a great deal many things..." Ashe said with an air of sadness, almost as if she was lamenting who she was before she knew the information she'd learned during that conversation. One can never go back to being innocent or ignorant, even if they wish to, she thought.

At Larsa's comment of Gabranth not speaking of his Landisian blood, Ashe sighed a little. "I think it is more that... he wished to leave it behind him. So did Basch. I've known him all my life and yet... all these things he told me last night, he was saying for the first time. I never knew he had Archadian blood, never at all. I don't think my father knew that either. Or if he did, neither one of them ever informed me." It didn't change her view of Basch, not really, but it did... change her view. Overall.

His accent. "Mm. Yes, how strange it is that Gabranth seems to have an accent different from those of Archadia. He's been there so long, why has he not lost it? Basch lost his. I vaguely remember him speaking differently when I was a small child, but he gradually spoke more and more like a Dalmascan, until I forgot that he'd been anything else."

Ashe fell silent - a feat not easy for the talkative and opinionated former princess - while Larsa spoke of his mentors and of Drace specifically. It seemed that he'd been scooped up by Drace just as Ashe had been by Basch, in that moment when their own questioning might have spiraled out of control had they been left to their own devices. Ever the protectors of us, they are, she assumed.

"I don't think it's childish at all, Larsa. Finding out that one's father wasn't really his father is not small matter. I think you are entitled to your disarray, frankly. And I think those closest to you will understand that you are upset and need your space." At least... they should.

But as Larsa began to speak of Dalmasca, and her father, and all that she and Basch had suffered, Ashe felt antsy and uncomfortable. Yes, she was sad, angry, and grieving, but she had a problem with being lumped together with Basch. The levels of their suffering were, in her mind, not even close to the same.

"Basch suffered greatly," she insisted after listening to him share his thoughts on the subject. "I was spared the worst of it, I feel, save for losing my father and my sadness over the loss of Dalmasca's sovereignty. He was starved and tortured, denied freedom and light and food and sleep at times. For two years. I cannot even begin to imagine what that must have been like for him."

She couldn't help the way her mind wandered to the man responsible... Gabranth. How could Basch's own twin brother do this to him? To her father? How was this man that Larsa admired so much, his actual father, be the same man who had committed such heartless and cruel acts? Given Larsa's mental disruption over this whole affair, however, Ashelia refrained from asking those questions. She didn't want to upset her friend.

Instead, she smiled at him. "I think it would have been different, if you'd been Emperor. You would have changed Archadia for the better, Larsa. I know it. And together we could have changed Ivalice." Such chances were lost now, but there was comfort in the possibilities, even if they were only fantasy.

"Give yourself time. Apologize when you are ready," she said encouragingly, knowing how hard apologies were, especially for awkward situations such as these. With regard to Basch, though, she drew in a long breath and released it as a thoughtful sigh. "I think he might tell you some things. But if I know Basch, he may at times say that his brother's story is not his to tell. Perhaps he thinks certain things too personal for him to share, and that Gabranth should do so himself. But he will tell you some things. We can go see him, if you like. I know he would love to speak with you."

Larsa did not expect to be unfrozen at all, let alone in the future. When he had snuck upon Gabranth's ship set for Pharos he did it to ensure the peace would be possible. The last thing he remembered was running towards fallen Gabranth and then... Light. (Marvel AU) - tarnishedxjudgement

@tarnishedxjudgement

Noah didn't have the same abilities and resources in this time period with which to inform himself of anything and everything that was going on around him. He was in the dark, most of the time, unless directly informed of things, a condition he hated. Being at the mercy of others he neither knew nor trusted for information was not a position he usually found himself in.

It was the reason he hadn't known about Drace being found after him until she was brought one day to the training compound. Inexplicably, after executing her in his own timeline, here she was again, seemingly from another. The entire experience was wholly jarring, but not nearly as jarring as losing his only son.

So often had Noah thought of Larsa in the months following his revival in this strange time. Thoughts invaded his peace, his sleep, his ability to function, until he found himself so erratic and unhinged that he did not recognize himself anymore. Even Drace found it difficult to comfort him, and she had always been a master of that feat. There was no closure to be had, no second chances, no going back... and that knowledge was eating Noah alive from the inside out.

But once again, information had been kept from him, and yet another arrival from Ivalice to the Avengers compound was neither expected nor necessarily wanted. Would it be another Dalmascan? Gods forbid a Rozarrian. And the way the people of this time seemed to think that all Ivalicians got along and would be happy to see each other was beyond irritating to him. Nevertheless, when he was specifically summoned to greet this newcomer, Noah begrudgingly left his quarters to do so.

What he saw... stopped him dead in his tracks. Within seconds, his expression betrayed him, and within a few more, he was on his knees, his legs giving way in disbelief of the sight that lay before him. It was little Lord Larsa, looking just as he did when last Noah laid eyes on him, perfect as can be.

He knew he should say something, but words betrayed him as well as his own legs had. Instead, he merely stared, the absence of his helm serving to display to the boy all the shock, confusion, and relief at seeing him standing there. Finally, he forced out the only two words he felt he could say without falling apart.

"My lord..."

[scorpioriesling]

You Belong With Me

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairings: Lucien x reader

Summary: Going between the Autumn, Spring, Night, and Day courts, Lucien had struggled to find a place of belonging. You are his reminder that he does have a place -- and that, would always be with you.

Warnings: some light angst, a little fluff

SR’s Note: All love for sad little Lucey <3 This was a request using prompts #22, #30, and #53 for @hardcoremarvelfan ! Thank you for your patience. Dropping some non-smut to breakup the smut train I've been producing lately, lol. Nonetheless; enjoy!

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @velarisdusk @nctsawrus (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

11:52.

That was the time on the wall clock when the front door opened, closing heavily as you listened to the familiar heavy footsteps downstairs.

It was always like this; your mate would come home late, exhausted from the day's work -- but who were you to blame him? Not only was he the Night Court emissary, he also did dealings in his native court of Autumn as well. Not to mention, he'd been seeing his real father more often, though he travelled all the way to the Day Court for that -- only to come back to the Spring Court by the end of the day, longing only to rest his head for a few hours.

You could tell the responsibility was weighing heavily on him.

His footsteps sounded on the stairs, and though you'd just cleaned, you didn't consider chastizing him for wearing his shoes around in the house. After a long, Hellish day -- all you could offer him was comfort. Peace. Whatever he needed to get through an entire night of sleep.

The bedroom door squealed on its hinge as it opened, and you felt the bed dip behind you. Turning over, you met the narrow eyed redhead with a sleepy smile of your own.

"Damned door," he huffed, shucking his clothes off until he was merely in his boxers. "I'll fix it one day. I swear it."

You reached for him, your own sense of longing coming in the form of wishing to comfort your husband.

"You don't have to worry about fixing anything," you mumbled, and he sighed, scootching closer to you. "I'll sleep just as happy beside you whether that door squeaks or not."

A small smile pulled the corner of his mouth upward at that, and you felt a sense of pride at it.

He laid behind you, his chest pressed against your back as his muscles eventually began to relax. He yawned deeply, which pulled one from you as well as he tucked his chin along the dip of your neck. You thread your fingers through his own as his arms wrapped around you, holding you close.

Slowly, sleep overtook you.

✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

The lights were bright in the grand ballroom of the Autumn Palace, the crystals on the chandeliers near blinding as they glittered overhead. Their warm glow gast a golden sheen across the room; champagne flutes, women's jewelry, masquerade masks and all -- they all glittered in the ambiance.

You'd attended as a favor to your cousin, who was unable to make it to the celebration this evening. You hadn't minded, though -- the Spring Court balls were lovely, but you'd never been to the Autumn Court before. Tamlin had other business to attend to, so he instead requested you go in his place, accompanied by his best friend, of course.

"I can see you undressing me with your eyes."

Your gaze zeroed in on the fox mask before you, and you chuckled.

"I bet not; you can barely see anything through this thing."

Lucien laughed, reaching out a hand to brush his thumb across the edge of the golden fawn mask you bore. Your breath caught in your throat; Lucien was handsome, yes, but in a devastating way. A way that you didn't see in other males, a way that speared any hope in your chest that-

"Well, I can see enough to know that you are eyeing me, Fawn." His nickname sent a rush through you, one he'd been using for years that never got old.

"Maybe it's because I find foxes to be so, damn, attractive." You winked, despite the blush on your cheeks. The orchestra ascended in the background, and pairs were making their way into a neat circle around you. Your longtime friend held out his hand.

"May I have this dance?"

You grinned, taking his hand as he led you to the outer edge of the circle. It felt good, having stability when you knew no one at this gathering. You'd known Lucien for, Gods, forever it seemed -- so, when his hand slid to your waist, it wasn't anything out of the ordinary.

Well... not really, anyways.

The butterflies in your stomach, however... those were a little out of the ordinary.

You followed his lead, keeping in time with his steps as your bodies hovered close to one another. The upsweep in tempo from the band propelled you on, faster and faster with each step. Lucien gazed down at you, though his expression was foreign.

"W-what?" You asked, dropping his hand and bringing it to your mouth. "Is there something on my face?"

He smiled quietly, his eyes boring into yours even through the small holes in his mask.

"Only your stunning features." He replied, his breaths coming out softer as he held you closer to his chest. Your cheeks pinkened again, and he leaned in closer to your ear.

"Thank you for acompanying me tonight." He whispered, and you rubbed a comforting hand on his shoulder where you'd held onto him.

"Oh, it was n-nothing," you stuttered embarassingly, shrugging to play it off. "Any favor for Tamlin is-"

"No, I mean seriously." He said, drawing back to gaze into your eyes once more. "Even though I'm on good terms now with my family," he choked on the last word. "...it's still awkward to parade around this place. I don't really belong here."

It'd been a year since Under the Mountain, and only a few months since Beron's death. Sure, him and his brothers were on speaking terms again, but this was his family.

Your heart clenched.

"Lucien... you do belong here, this," you waved a hand at the room around you. "This is where you're from; this very well could be where you truly belong." The lights dimmed, and the music tapered off as the sensuality of the room increased. You hadn't noticed; all you could focus on was Lucien, standing before you, his gaze squarely on you.

"To be honest, I don't think I really belong anywhere," he huffed a laugh, and your eyes watered. "Hell, Tamlin owns a gorgeous estate, but... I'm not Spring Court by blood."

"Lucien-"

He sighs, draping your hand over his opposite shoulder as he slides both hands around the small of your back.

"Really, I only feel a sense of belonging when I'm with you."

Your eyes widen, your heart threatening to explode -- you stare up at him, watching as his gaze flickers to your mouth.

Pressing up onot your tiptoes, you pull him as close as you can get him, before your lips touch his for the very first time.

Little had either of you known, it would not be the last.

✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

You rose early that morning, silently untangling yourself from your mate's grasp before sliding out of bed. You stretched, basking in the morning light as pleasant, soft memories floated through your mind.

Lucien's hand holding yours as you moved about the ballroom.

Your first kiss, how soft and gentle it'd been.

You practically hummed as you stepped down the hallway, the remnants of your dream clinging to your mind like sticky honey.

"Thank you for acompanying me tonight."

How his silken hair glinted under the lights.

You twirled around the kitchen, putting a kettle on for morning tea and preparing toast for the two of you.

"To be honest, I don't think I really belong anywhere."

That particular part of the dream brought you to a halt, your hand still pressing down on the toaster lever. Your heart squeezed, as it did before -- how horrible a feeling, especially for someone as wonderful as Lucien to experience.

Your brows knit as sadness overcame you.

"Really, I only feel a sense of belonging when I'm with you."

That bit swelled your heart only a little, selfish as it was. You adored your husband, and was grateful to the Mother and all things holy that he truly wanted to accept the mating bond; but him not feeling as though he belonged any place?

"Overthinking again are we, fawn?"

Your gaze lifted, reaching that of Lucien's heterochrome eyes. He leaned in the kitchen doorway, still shirtless but now in comfortable pants, at least.

You sighed, your attention turning to the toast as it jumped over the rim of the toaster.

"Noooo," you drawled, taking it out with nimble fingers as to not scald yourself. The kettle began to steam, and when you turned, your mate had already lifted it from the burner.

"You forget we share this," he motioned to his temple, and you rolled your eyes. "Lovely dream you had last night though."

His arms wrapped around your torso as you spread butter on the bread, and your breath hitched. Warmth flooded the bond, bringing a little smile to your face.

"I remember it as though it were yesterday," you offered him your teary smile, and he pulled away, his hand catching your wrist as he did.

"Lucien," you huffed, setting down the butter knife as you followed him to the middle of your small shared kitchen. He drew you close, his one hand on your lower back, the other holding your own.

"Dance with me?"

You grinned, following as he stepped shortly around the room. His chin rested atop your head as you swayed together, and he pressed a small kiss to your forehead.

"I should be the one comforting you right now," you said quietly, your cheek pressed against his bare chest. "After the week you've had-"

His fingers threaded through your locks, brushing them in a soft, tender way before he spoke again.

"My darling, you are my comfort." He stated, and a small, emotinoal tear escaped over your waterline. "If I could, I'd stay right here forever with you doing just this."

Emotion clogged your throat as you reflected on everything the two of you had been through. Under the Mountain, the Spring COurt demise, Beron's death, the Hybern War, his promotion to Night Court emissary and learning of his father...

You tilted your chin up as one of his hands caressed your cheek. He kissed you, like he had all that time ago; gentle, sweet, perfect.

"You are my real home, Y/N. This," he looked between the two of you, smiling when his eyes met yours again.

"This is exactly where I belong. With you."

✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

[ohtobefreaky]

Tumblr you are gunna LOVE this one (I hope)

Today I bring you more Caleb cause I can’t stop thinking about him, tomorrow, who knows (probably Silco)

yall don’t know how tempting it is to play just to get a good grasp on him so I can write this one out </3

Caleb and his little sister who is OBSESSED with cop shows and super hero shows, anything with heroes vs villains, his little sister is crazy about it

you like to pretend to be one of the heroes and you have ur big brother be the villain and you proudly stand over him when you beat him, it’s super fuckin cute it’s one of his favorite things to do with you

But you’ve gotten a little too cocky with the whole “heroes ALWAYS win” thing, so ur big brother decides to show you exactly what a real villain would do if they caught a cute little hero like you

he pretends it’s all just part of the game as he overstimulates you until ur sobbing, but even through your tears ur adamant that the villain will never break you bc ur a superhero >:( so he has to up the ante and introduce a brand new “hero destroying weapon” he made just for you (his cock)

that weapon thrusting in and out of you while ur big brother grins over you, teasing you

Didn’t you say you were a big and powerful superhero? Didn’t you say this wouldn’t be enough to take you down?

And yet here you are, under him and moaning like a dog in heat. Not as strong as you said, that’s for sure <3

it’s warm and it feels so good but so strong it’s almost painful, you can see how other heroes might fall for this, but you won’t!! (You will.)

He’d be so mean when he finally finds that one spot, prodding around inside you til he hits that squishy part that makes your mouth fall open in a loud moan he definitely makes fun of you for

he’s just a big asshole, but in his eyes it’s deserved

You’ve been so cocky, just because the heroes on the tv never lose doesn’t mean you’d be so lucky, not when ur so small and cute

your legs twitching on either side of his hips as he pounds his cock in you as far as he can just as he’s about to cum, telling you he’s injecting you with some mind control liquid so he can keep you as his cute little hero pet and ur kicking and squirming but he’s mocking you because you’re just so weak, nothing like when you two fight

your eyes glassy, cheeks bright red when he finally cums, your soft little cracked voice calling him big brother finally and he scoops you up and covers you in kisses

(When it’s all over and he’s sufficiently comforted you, that teary pout you give him while you call him a big meanie makes his cock twitch and he debates bending you over and fucking you again)

The nicest part of this for him is that he can be as mean and cruel as he wants, since he’s only playing the villain

You never need to know he’s had these thoughts for years, how close he’s come to doing this outside of playing with you

that dream will be realized soon enough though, because now that you’ve gotten a taste of it, you’re a little obsessed <3

I think it would be funny if it backfired and you ended up more of a villain from how often you ask him with ur pretty puppy dog eyes if he’ll do that again

He can’t say no, but god does he wish he could when you bounce on his cock so long that he’s shooting blanks </3 he’s made a little monster outta you

I’ve got a killer headache so I cannot give yall more but I will almost definitely be back with more thoughts about him soon </3 I’m obsessed

[darylsdelts]

Hello there! I know you must be busy with uni but I really love your headcanons!! So yup, whenever you feel like it just let out all those thoughts you have, they will be appreciated by your loyal followers!😄

I’m glad you like them haha!

I’m tryna think of more!!

D.D head-canons: part idek anymore

🫧 should be wearing glasses, his eyesight has gotten slightly worse with age but only with close up stuff. Struggles to read over Jude’s homework for her and would just say it was good.

🫧 a few residents of Alexandria had wrongly assumed that him and carol were together and it made him very uncomfortable. He didn’t really know how to put those rumours to rest but they eventually went away… thank god.

🫧 really wanted a baby sibling when he was little, a sister more specifically. He used to wish he had a sibling closer to his age to play with when Merle wasn’t around.

🫧 used to try to take his teddy in with him during bath time and momma would have to explain to him that his teddy wouldn’t be any good wet. It ended in tears every time.

🫧 had to wear shoes too small or too big for him quite often when he was little. Either wearing merles old shoes or his own shoes that he had grown out of.

🫧 he liked the songs his momma would play and sing and would try to sing along with his cute baby voice. He sometimes still hums them when doing random tasks.

🫧 was really well behaved at school, at least early on, he really enjoyed the praise he’d get.

🫧 when he’s alone, sometimes over thinking or just feeling overwhelmed, he’ll stare down and count the eyelets on his boots, something he’s always done. It may not help much but he still holds onto it.

🫧 this is obvious but he’s a very private lover. He’s still sweet in company of others of course, and if only carol or someone he’s real close to is around, he’d rest his hand on your lower back or have his arm over your shoulders but he usually saves all the sweetness for behind closed doors. Also he would kill you if you let it slips that he sometimes whines for snuggles. Do not tell a soul.

🫧 took a long while for him to be comfortable to get teary eyed around you. If you could watch Disney movies together he’d definitely cry though.

🫧 he actually does want to be a father but he’s only brought it up once, scared it could pressure you if he brings it up again. He can’t fathom being able to carry a human in your body for nine months then pushing it out so he’ll wait for you to say something. If you never do, he’s okay with that.

🫧 he wouldn’t exactly propose. You’d probably bring up the idea of being married and he’d say something like “is that what you want?”/“would you want that?” To which you’d nod and he’d say “you can be”. The next day he’d go out and find the closest thing he could to resemble a pretty ring. He’s not materialistic and neither are you but he wants to be able to have something which shows you’re his. He’d get home and sit on the couch, taking your hand and sliding it on your finger. “Yeah?” He’d ask. “Love ya so much”.

[airconditionertm]

Aemond x wife reader pillow talk

Summary: all y/n wants is just a sliver of warmth from her husband Aemond

CW: angst, arranged marriage, arguing

Word count: 1220

“May we speak Aemond before you leave “She pulls the sheets up to cover herself. Aemond was already getting dressed again. “ we can speak I suppose, “ he said bluntly. She took a deep breath “ I know that this marriage isn’t what you wanted and I cannot expect some great love, however I … I want us to have something at least some warmth some comfort anything “. Aemond sat up sharply “ I will do my duty to you as a husband nothing more, “ he said.

“Well isn’t it part of your duty to care for me … I’m a lady I have a need for these things, you can find it elsewhere with lovers and whores but I I can’t I am here away from home and my family and the only person I have is you yet you can’t show me even an ounce of warmth, I don’t want this for me I don’t want this for our future children “ she explained.

Aemond turned to look at her “You shouldn’t solely rely on me for .. warmth “ he said the word like its very syllables left poison on his tongue. Rising from the bed he left without another word.

——

“This is taking awfully long, “ he said exasperated. “I don’t understand people have children by accident!, yet it has been months of trying and I’m still no closer to an heir “. He sat up in frustration messy silver locks adorning his back. “It will happen when it will there’s nothing we can do nature has to take its course” y/n tried to calm him down gently untangling the hair on his back and sitting next to him. “ I just don’t understand why this is so difficult, “ he says.

“ well my mother always said that children will not be brought to an unhappy couple by the gods,” y/n said trying to catch his eye. “ seriously you want to make this about what you want again “ he recoiled from her touch. “ that is not how I meant it and it’s not just about me this clearly affecting you so you cannot tell me that this is what you want out of marriage “ she tried to move closer to him again . “ what I want out of this marriage is an heir! “ he yelled “ I don’t give a shit about grand romance and love and warmth, that was never meant for me “ he continued.

“ I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want “ she whispered standing up for the bed and grabbing her chemise . “ why is love not meant for you Aemond” she asked cautiously looking back at him before she left.

“ you have met me you know why, “ he said “ I’m a kin slayer, I am cruel and cold, and nobody but my family dares talk to me, I was simply not made to do this, we simply both need to do our duties and then the rest doesn’t matter, you cannot change who I am, so stay in your place and do your duty ” he demanded. “ well unfortunately shear dutifulness cannot conjure up a babe ” y/n yelled in return storming out of his chambers.

———

“Where have you been!” Aemond yelled as he found y/n in the gardens. “ here “ she said looking at a flower in her hand. “ You were supposed to be in my chambers I summoned you multiple times “ he yanked the flower from her hands. “ skipping one time won’t make a difference anyway “ she replied. “you have a duty to your husband and to the realm,” he said. “ and what of your duty to me !“ she stood up from her seat to face him. “I have fulfilled all my duties you have a home allowance staff anything you could wish for, “ he said looking straight at her . “ yes I have that but I don’t have the one thing I truly want a husband who cares for me why can’t you understand that this is a need for me” she stepped closer to him as tears welled in her eyes. the others in the garden could here their arguing and began to form a crowd. “ your making a scene “ he said grabbing her arm guiding her away from the crowd.

———

“So what is it you want from me what would make you feel the warmth you need” he had asked sitting up in the bed and getting ready to leave. “Well for a start not rushing away the second you're done bedding me would be nice…. It makes me feel like a common whore“ she said the last part more cautiously. “ I don’t intend to make you feel like that you’re my wife you should be able to feel pride in that “She gestured for him to lay back down which he did. “ you know we have never actually slept in the same bed “ she moved closer to him. “ that’s not too uncommon “ Aemond replied. “Why do you stay in my bed for so long after we lay together” he asked suddenly. “ laying down is supposed to help the seed take, I also like to lay in your bed it’s soft and it smells nice and it’s really the closest I can get to true intimacy with you, “ she said looking at him laying down. “I would consider laying together quite intimate “ he replied, she chuckled “ do you really consider what we do intimate, me laying in bed like a starfish while you.., it feels mechanical to me like it’s just another duty to you, “ she said. “ it is my duty, “ he said bluntly. “ I know but I simply wish you would want to do it and not force yourself, is it that I’m not enticing to you “ she spoke softly.

“ no you’re quite beautiful my lady it's just that I’m not one who enjoys this “ he replied avoiding her eye contact. “ then why do you go to brothels, “ she asked confused. “ I don’t go to brothels I go to one brothel where …. I pay for women to simply hold me, I know it is strange it’s…“he said quietly. “ it’s not strange you’re seeking warmth, what I don’t understand is why won’t you accept mine why do you pay another woman to hold you when I could do the same ” she reaches out to hold his hand. “ I’m your husband it’s not my role to seek comfort from you,” he said as he allowed her to hold his hand. “ marriage is more than a contract and a set of roles Aemond. I know you don’t love me but that doesn’t keep me from caring for you “She moved close to him squeezing his hand. He pulled her in closer she wrapped her arms around him and he buried his head in her chest listening intently to the rhythmic beating of her heart. The two stayed in silence holding each other as they lay in bed enveloped in each other's warmth.

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

title: I wish we could sleep

pairing: dean redding x cassie hobbes

synopsis: nightmares aren’t unusual for dean and cassie, in fact they’ve been come a very normal part of going to sleep, but surely they couldn’t get any worse… could they??

warnings: trauma, PTSD

a/n: sorry I haven’t been posting a lot 💖💖 thank you so much for reading

taglist: @inmyheaddd @midiosaamor @lyrakanefanatic @aleatorio1234 @maybe-dj124 @book-nerd-emi @maybxlle @foreverwinter22 @sweetreveriee @hermesenthusiast @shattered-glass-roses @gandergaal @sheisntyou @arias-archive @lila-77 @downrightbooks @never-enough-novels @off-to-the-r4ces @bubbleteaandboba @peppapigsposts

They say sharing a bed with someone you love is meant to be something beautiful. Sleepy compliments, early morning kisses, feeling safe in someone’s arms. But for Dean and I sharing a bed with someone you love meant alternating between having nightmares and comforting each other. Some days we even got the pleasure of both experiencing a horror on the same night.

No one could control the subconscious.

Though as of late, mine had been getting easier. My therapist said maybe it was me subconsciously accepting my mother’s fate, I disagreed but wouldn’t tell her that. I would nod and smile and unpack some more unresolved trauma. Apparently I had a lot of it.

In my opinion, my lack of nightmares was from not dreaming at all, my body was so physically exhausted from constant interruptions of my sleep that it had just given up. No doubt as soon as I’d got a required rest to function the nightmares will creep back in, I estimated less than a week.

But Dean’s nightmares had not been getting better. In fact they’d been getting worse, much much worse. He went to see his dad the other week, it was a choice, for the first time. It had nothing to do with a case, no necessity in the action. He just went. I didn’t ask him why, if he’d wanted to tell me he would’ve and if he still wanted to he knew he could.

That didn’t stop the curious girl inside of me from being desperate to know why so I just suppressed her. I had a feeling that the visit was fuelling these ugly dreams.

The first few nights of these new forms of torture, Dean woke up on his own and walked around until he could will himself back to sleep but last couple it’d been worse and he hadn’t been able to sleep at all.

It annoyed me because I was the deep sleeper and he was the light sleeper. It was hard enough for me to wake up from my own troubles let alone be awoken by his. Dean nearly always woke himself up with nightmares and he’d lay there alone, not wanting to wake me because he thought I needed the rest.

No matter how many times I told him, I knew secretly that it’d make no difference. He wouldn’t wake me up. It hurt me to think he’d brace things alone to protect me.

But this night, this night he didn’t have to wake me up. I heard his screams. Jolted upright at the sheer sound.

“Dean?”

My eyes pinned themselves to him. He was drenched in sweat, hair slicked to his forehead, pale faced and fear penetrated. The sight of him made me feel sick.

He shook his head at me breathing heavily. Panic seized my throat and constricted my vocal cords and for a second I didn’t know what to do. His chest rose and fell so aggressively it hurt to look at.

“Hey, hey, hey,” I said, scrambling to sit in front of him, my instincts finally kicking in, “look at me.”

I didn’t touch him, not yet. If he was feeling trapped by something or someone in his mind, my hands wouldn’t be of much help now so instead I let him physically see that I was there.

Instinctively I leant to turn the bedside lamp on, only to stop myself mid-movement. I liked the light on after a nightmare but he couldn’t bear it, he didn’t want to see himself in such a mess. The dark offered him comfort after the storm, so I reeled my hand back.

He was sat, head in his hands, body tight and curled, not wanting to let anyone in.

“Dean?” I said again.

He pressed his forehead further into his palms and exhaled, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, “he’s in my head Cassie, he’s in my head and I can’t get him out.”

I didn’t have to ask who.

At the sound of the discord of notes in his voice alone, my heart screamed. It was rough and laced with pain that I felt aching in my bones. I couldn’t imagine how it felt for him, I didn’t want to.

It was a warped mess of a sentence. The words only killed me further, probably mutilating him from the inside out.

‘He’s in my head Cassie.’

Fury courses through my blood like a flame licking the inner walls of my veins and arteries. I wanted the man sat in that cell to pay for what he knew he had done here. To his son. His child. But what good was my anger to Dean? So instead, I drove the raw emotion into the deep love I have for him.

“He’s not real,” I murmured, slowly, evenly, “it was just a dream, he’s not here.”

I was scared for him and scared of the state he was in. I wanted to take it all away, remove everything that was making him feel like this. I couldn’t bear it. But he didn’t need my fear to deal with right now, he needed a constant and that had to be me.

He was panting, sharp untamed intakes of breath. I gently put a hand on his knee, testing the waters to see if he wanted my touch. He leaned into it and I shuffled closer, now intertwining my fingers with his.

“I’ve got you,” I squeezed his hand, “I’ve got you, breathe.”

I tried to mirror what he’d do for me in this situation. I was too used to being on the receiving end.

“I’m here Dean,” I said softly, “look at me, I’m right here.”

He was still breathing loud enough for me to hear and see the staccato rise and fall of his rib cage.

It wasn’t fair. Someone like Dean didn’t deserve something like this. He was too good, too pure, too sweet. He’d been through so much already, why was the world still on his back? Why was he still weighted by problems he didn’t ever deserve to have? He was a child. A child.

“It’s not real,” I murmured, moving my hands gently up his chest and neck to cup his face in my hands, he’s hot under my touch, dampness still clinging to his skin, “it’s not real I promise you, it’s just a nightmare,” I said quietly, “look at me. I’m real. I’m here. Not what’s going on in your mind.”

“Cassie,” he gasped, clutching his chest with on hand and grabbing my arm with the other.

His knuckles went white.

“Breathe with me Dean,” I said, my voice shaking more than I intended, “please you have to breathe with me.”

“Can’t,” he choked out.

He looked like he was suffocating. Like he was being strangled by invisible hands that had haunted his childhood.

“Focus on me,” I replied more firmly, more desperately, “just me.”

He did. He stopped. He stared at me, enveloped in the darkness.

“Listen to my voice,” I said softly, “feel your fingers in mine,” I interlocked other my hand with his, so I was holding onto both, “look at the colour of my eyes, anything that will help.”

He was silent for a long time and I watched as his eyes roamed my face, as his fingers drew illegible words and confusing images on my arms. I watched as he played with the dried out ends of my hair desperate for a cut and as his fingers trailed down the soft cotton of my pyjama shorts. I watched as he felt my pulse and analysed the rise and fall of my own chest to match it with his own.

The silence went on for a long time but neither of us noticed. His breathing eventually calmed and there was less panic paralysing him. The knot in my own chest was beginning to slowly loosen.

He slipped from my fingertips, away from my touch and into his own. His face retreated to his own hands, head bowed down in some sort of shame.

“Dean,” I said, my voice low but urgent, “Dean.”

Though his breaths were now even, they were also hard and disjointed. He looked as if he were having a silent argument with himself. I wanted to help him through the battle, be by his side when he won the war.

“Why am I like this?” he asked, venom on his tongue all directed to himself.

My heart shattered, as if it had been shot with a machine gun over and over, a thousand tiny holes in the vital organ. Of course he would blame himself. Sweet Dean, kind Dean, gentle Dean would pile the fault as his.

“It’s not you,” I tell him, praying he could hear the way my voice was being ripped in pain.

Dean wouldn’t meet my eye, “why do I let him in?”

“You’re not the problem Dean,” I said tenderly.

“No,” he snapped back, “if I was stronger, if I was better-“

I hated it. I despised that man who felt he had the power to not only hurt his son in the moment but cause him to self-destruct for the rest of his life Dean didn’t deserve that, he would never deserve that. And I couldn’t do anything to change it.

“Listen to me,” I said, a little more firmly, “listen.”

“Cassie…” he trailed off as my hands cupped his cheeks again.

“Your dad isn’t coming back,” I told him, “he never will.”

“But he’ll forever be here, in my mind,” he said, “hell is empty and all the devils are here.”

He tapped his skull.

“Don’t quote him,” I murmured, “it gives him the power Dean.”

He recoiled from my touch looking disgusted in himself, “I’m pathetic.”

“That’s him talking, not you, never you,” I whispered, my voice wobbling, “don’t let him win Dean, you are stronger, you are better.”

Ghosts of feeling danced in his eyes as he stared through me numbly. Something in my chest stung harshly and bled hard and I took him into my arms.

He crumbled.

He let himself crumble into me. Something in a sudden moment all snapped and every tie that was ever tied unravelled into the pile of red ribbon stringing him together. Every time his body shook with a sob a piece of my heart tore away so I only held him tighter. I cradled his broken body into my chest and tried to keep my own tears at bay. I wanted him to feel that I was there, that I wasn’t going anywhere, ever. That his life was now different, that he could now be free.

After a long while he pulled away slowly and sat up. His face looked different, tear stained and red eyed. I wasn’t used to it but it didn’t make it any less beautiful.

“I want it to stop,” he said, his voice rough and ragged, almost gravelly, “I’m driving myself insane Cassie, I need to sleep.”

“I know,” I whispered slowly, brushing the hair from his eyes, “…I know.”

And I did. There’s been many times where I’d been the one breaking down over the same thing in his arms.

“This will get better,” I tell him, still playing with his hair, “I know it doesn’t feel like it right now but it will.”

“How can you be sure?” he winced.

“Well think of where my sleep was three months ago and where it is now,” I replied, “I mean it’s not good but it’s better, even you’ve said that.”

He paused for a long while, playing with his thumbnail, before he looked up at me seriously, “do you think it’s something I’m doing wrong?”

“God no Dean,” I exhaled, “the things you’ve seen are not your fault, the experiences, the people, you had no control over it and I know you think you do have control over it but trust me, trust me Dean,” desperation crept to the back of my throat, making my voice all funny, “when I tell you you didn’t, do you trust me?”

“I do, but Cass I can’t…” he trailed off, the words not right, his emotions too conflicted. For someone so hard to read to others, he was my open book.

“Then let me help you,” I murmured.

He met my eyes and that was all that was needed, no words. The longing, the hope, the craving to be seen, to be heard, to be looked after, to be helped-

“You will never understand your own worth because your nature is too good, too pure,” I began, “but if you could see yourself through my eyes you’d know what I’m talking about. Sometimes I wish you could because Dean you’re such a beautiful human being, in every sense of the word you care so much about the people around you, you’re passionate about the things you love, the people you love. You’re one of the smartest people I know, you’ll happily sacrifice your own happiness for someone else and you have the biggest heart of any person I’ve ever met.”

“Cassie,” he whispered, glossy-eyed.

“I mean would you tell me I was stupid or weak or pathetic if I woke up like this?” I asked him.

Dean shook his head sucking in a shaky breath, “but you’re not me Cassie.”

“You’re right,” I nodded, “you’re better,”

“No, no Cassie-“

“Shhhh,” I smiled, putting my finger to his lips, “you’re good Dean inside and out, you’re kind and you’re gentle and you’re brave and god this list goes on forever.”

A final tear traced the lines of his face, I barely saw it in the dim lighting.

“What did I do,” his voice was low, “to deserve a woman like you.”

“Oh my love,” I murmured, pressing my forehead to his, “you deserve so much more.”

“Never,” he whispered, his breath tickling my face, “never in a million years.”

I locked my fingers into his, our noses almost touching.

“Kiss me,” he begged, in such a low, husky sound I barely heard it, “make me forget it all.”

Make him forget he’s in my head. The unspoken words hung in the empty air.

I gently pressed my lips onto his, a sweet, soft comfort kiss that made my lips tingle for something more. But this wasn’t about me. I pulled away slowly, my eyes lingering on his face but Dean was already looking at me. Staring like I was the moon and stars and all the galaxies combined.

His hand was pressed flat against my back, pushing my body closer into him. He gave the subtlest of nods. I obliged, taking his mouth back into mine. It tasted like the salt of sweat and tears combined, but I didn’t care and nor did he because it was sweetened by the love the licked both our lips from just locking eyes.

His mouth brushed into the corner of my lips, pressing a gentle kiss down that sent a shiver down my spine. I wrapped my arms around his neck and his hand climbing up my waist and pulled me into his lap until my thighs were either side of his hips. I deepened the kiss, moving further into his face, my hands unapologetically grabbing chunks his hair. He made a small sound of pleasure, a low hum from the back of his throat that made butterflies dance in my stomach.

Breathlessly, I pulled away before it could escalate any further. I didn’t want him to get lost in the need for comfort and regret it later. Instead I took him deep into my arms, burying his face into the shallow heat of my own body.

“I love you Dean, every part of you,” I whispered into his hair, “and I’ll never stop, not when the world ends, or if we fall apart, or when you need me for once. I love you, that bit doesn’t go away.”

He didn’t reply and I suspected he may be asleep so I rolled backwards until my head hit the pillow taking him with me. His head pressed up against my chest still and I felt his more even breath.

I ran my finger through his hair, gently coiling around every wave. It was soft and light, making me all the more sleepy.

“I’m sorry for waking you up,” he mumbled into me, making me jump. He clearly hadn’t been asleep, “I didn’t want to.”

“I’d rather be awake with you than asleep,” I said gently, “and it’s okay to need me too you know?”

“You’re just getting a sleep routine back,” he replied sluggishly, exhaustion finally catching up on him.

“And you think it won’t be destroyed in a few weeks time by my own nightmares?” I scoffed lightly, letting my head fall deeper into my pillow.

“Still…”

“Dean, you matter more to me than anything else, sleep included,” I said, “I don’t want you to face this alone like you wouldn’t want me to.”

There was a beat of silence. Maybe the realisation that he couldn’t argue with that.

“Okay,” he whispered.

“Do you want to try and sleep now?” I asked, “just for a bit.”

He shifted, looking up at me with those dark irises that left me tongue tied, “the nightmares will come back,” he murmured, face so innocent it reminded me of a scared child, the scared child he probably once was.

“That’s okay,” I told him gently, “we’ll face them together if they do.”

I trailed my fingers softly up and down the back of his neck, like he had done for me when I’d been hysterical. I felt my eyes begin to close and my movements slow down, I was desperately trying to fight sleep but control was slipping easily through my fingers.

“Don’t leave,” Dean mumbled, sounding half asleep himself.

“When have I ever,” I whispered back, before sleep took us both in his arms and we slept through the rest of the night.

a/n: as soon as I finished I realised should’ve written it in dean’s pov 😭😭 but rgwudjhejd oh well

hope you enjoyed 🤭🤭

the naturals masterlist

[leggerefiore]

cw: drabble, fluff, short, hoopa making Lear jealous

pairing: Lear/Reader

The pokemon was quite light in your arms as it nuzzled into your chest. You sat down on a bench within the park with a sigh. The sun shined brightly above. It was just about midday, and you could feel something like hunger settling in. You hummed and rubbed its back. While Hoopa may have been quite a mischievous sort, you found that it was very needy with you. Whenever Lear scolded the pokemon, it would float over to you and look at you with such a pitiful expression. The prince only got more frustrated as you petted Hoopa to comfort it.

Apparently, you were far too soft on it. But… Really, with how utterly distressed it would look, anyone would. You simply found the pokemon too cute, even if the prince could resist its charms. Hoopa seemed to enjoy gifting you random things in exchange for your doting. Precious jewels were not uncommon. Though, you often gave them to Lear to add to whatever his own hoard was or returned them to the pokemon while shaking your head. Recently, it had taken to just dropping the prince near you and smugly posing. Lear did not quite enjoy this either. Though, you thought it was cute that it determined you would like your boyfriend more than gems.

Your mind drifted back to the present. “Hoopa…” you spoke softly to the pokemon, “Do you grant wishes?” It tilted its head at your words. Its green eyes stared into your own. Blinking, it nodded. You hummed. “… I'll get you a treat…” an exchange may go down better, “If you help me get someone to relax.” Lear… You sighed. He was utterly determined to prove himself worthy to his father, even at the expense of himself. There were even times he spoke of possibly ending your relationship in order to please his father's plans for him to marry another royal. Those times left you sullen and wanting to never speak to him again. The pokemon seemingly noticed your expression dropping.

“Hoopa like you…” it spoke, bringing a hand to your cheek. You smiled. The psychic-type could talk… It often spoke like a little kid. You told it that you liked it, too. Its smile was bright in return. Pulling away from you, it took one of its hoops and summoned something. Lear fell through the portal with papers in his hands. His frustrated was immediate. Turning to the pokemon, he glared at it behind his sunglasses.

“Hoopa!” his voice was loud and filled with frustration. Hoopa seemingly ignored his upset and floated to you. He watched as it rubbed its cheek against your own and hugged you. Lear's arms crossed against his chest. You wondered what any of this meant.

“Hoopa love them!” it spoke and clung to you tighter. Lear tensed up. “If Lear doesn't want… Hoopa will take!” Part of you wanted to laugh at the absurdity. The pokemon likely to not really comprehend what its words meant. It was like a kid confessing a crush at the worst, but it was more likely that Hoopa was upset with Lear's effect on you as of late. You thought that, anyway. Well, until the pokemon took one of the rings off its horn and offered it to you. “Hoopa marry!”

It seemed the prince could take the scene no longer. Never before had you seen him move as quickly as he did to call the pokemon back to its ball. You blinked a few times. What was going on…? Lear's expression was nothing but frustration. He stomped towards you and stared at you wordlessly for a moment. Then, something like insecurity appeared to come over him. “…” his hand grasped your own, the fabric of his glove soft against your skin. You were pulled along by him until you both were in a private area.

“… Are you attempting to make me jealous?” his voice was low as be turned away from you. “I feel utterly powerless with you. My title means nothing to you – I'm just another person in your eyes.” You were silent. He let out a sigh. “… I…” his gaze drifted back to you, “I will not lose to a pokemon. You are my betrothed.” You flinched. That was the first time that you had heard that one. “Hmph. You look shocked. I see your commoner mind could not comprehend something so obvious—” You shut him up with a kiss. That was when he went from cute to annoying. His arms came around you as the affection was wholeheartedly returned.

When it broke, he clung to you still. The heat of his body soaked into you. “I will make the announcement soon,” he declared. You flinched. “… We must start planning for the wedding.”

Maybe you had pushed too many of his buttons.

~

“Here,” you offered the box of donuts to the pokemon. Hoopa had been sad all day since being informed that you were now engaged. Well, that was why you thought the reason was. It perked up instantly, gasping and immediately indulging itself. Your heart felt light at the sight of its pure joy. Sitting down, you let your mind wander to all the various plans Lear had presented to you. Really… It felt like he was waiting his entire life to plan a wedding. The announcement had shocked his retainers, but they both instantly turned to help him plan.

“Hoopa granted your wish!” it suddenly spoke, snapping you from your thoughts, “Lear better!” You wanted to laugh and cry. The pokemon really was sneaky. Was that all really an act to get Lear to make a decision. You supposed you could only wonder. At least, Hoopa seemed happy with the outcome.

[bigsoggyboots]

Ephemeral

.

Cowgirl!Sev × Black!CityGirl! Reader

random disclaimer: sorry I dipped for like 2 weeks. I encountered major writers block for the first time and went through a stressful 2 weeks of school. Now I'm sick, had to miss a day and a half of school, and wrote this. You could probably tell what I was reading to have me make an idea like this LMAO.

wc: 774

cw: mentions of drinking.

I referenced so many songs I have to put a list:

SAY SOMETHING - TWICE

Brave - TWICE

Green Eyes -Erykah Badu

Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You - Erykah Badu

SAPPY - RED VELVET

an: I said a lot already but the image below is one i edited using Picsart for the first time. It's free to use lol.

“Who woulda’ thought..” Sevika's words brought you away from the scenery before you. She still looked ahead, gripping your hand a little tighter. “..that all I needed was a city girl to show me this.”

You looked ahead, at the rain you both couldn't bear to look away from, then back at her. “Show you what?”

You saw a smile creep on her face before a chuckle left her. “How to find contentment in the mundane.” You blink in surprise. “You think I ever sat and watched the rain with anyone else?”

You turn and feel the blush fill your cheeks as you watch the rain she was talking about. You hated when this happened; when you'd get flustered and grow acutely aware of every sensation. And fortunately so, Sevika did that to you.

Since the day she reeled you in on her horse to now in the early foggy morning on her porch swing.

God, it's a love-hate feeling.

You knew she was watching you, those perfect steel eyes swallowing you whole. She was waiting for you to say something.

‘Please say something you blundering fool.’

“I know the feeling,” You smile, your gaze meeting hers. Neither one of you looked away. “I hadn't known something like that until I met this girl.” Sevika grimaced at your words, the huff leaving her making you chuckle.

“The work I had to do was long, hard, and exhausting. Day in and day out, I did damn near the same things. Wake up, eat, feed the animals, do chores, sleep, repeat.” You saw the way her face softened. You'd be lying if you said it wasn't heartwarming. “I was bored of it all.”

She gripped your hand a little tighter, egging you on. She scooted in closer. Maybe a wrists length away from you now. If you weren't so desperate to kiss her, you wouldn't have calculated that so fast.

“Then there was this one night in the barn. We both got drunk as shit, and she told me all her secrets that night.” Sevika forgot about that. She thought you did too. You told her the day after you did. Liar. “I don't think I'll ever forget that night. The blush on her face, the open wrinkly shirt,” Your eyes trace around her lips. “the smeared lipstick on her lips.” You played a dangerous game there and Sevika chuckled at your bravery.

“Anyways, the night was boring. But, for the first time, I loved it.”

The rain picked up and so did Sevika's smile. You've never seen her so open with you, and the comfort that it brought you was better than any touch could ever give.

“I wanted to live in that night for the rest of my nights. I've never wanted to drink with anyone else but that country girl.”

The rain filled the silence the two of you didn't bother to disturb. What else more could be said? 3 years of feelings were just spat into the air. You couldn't feel simultaneously more uncomfortable and so proud of yourself.

Yet, you both still held the same distance. You feel the shaking in her hand as she forces her hand to still.

Why is she shaking? Why is she waiting?

Then it hit you.

She's waiting for permission.

“Kiss me? Please?” Your voice comes out in an embarrassing squeak. Her lips encapsulates yours before you can even think.

☆

Southern drawl soothes you, puffy lips infuse you, and Ms. Cowgirl can't take her eyes off of you. Nothing but you.

Sevika's too good to be true. You wish you could remember how many kisses were being exchanged, out of either happiness or lust, so you could possibly keep it somewhere in the back of your mind.

“You're smotherin’ me.” You joke as the dogs bark. Even they grew tired of your sappy shenanigans.

The sun peeked out now, the sunrises glow decorating itself on you and Sevika's complexion. It was beautiful seeing how the sun creeped on your figures.

Sevika didn't bother to say a thing, pressing one more quiet kiss to your collarbone. While you stared ahead, Sevika kept her gaze to you. Her laugh was mischievous, prying your gaze away for a moment.

You feel something being placed on your head, and as you felt the object, you realized what Sevika was missing.

Her hair was free now, a little ruffled with small fly-aways; and now she could hardly contain the smirk forming.

Ephemeral was this moment. In your mind, you took a million snapshots as she said her next words.

“You're mine beautiful. And I'm yours. Ain't nothin’ gon’ change that.”

☆

[astray-anomaly]

I was bored and made a Ultrakill Gabriel x Ferryman one shot if anyone cares to read it. The Ultrakill brainrot is getting to me

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63510595

Fic text underneath

Gabriel landed on the ferry with a soft thud that made the worn wooden deck creek underneath his feet. He had been granted some free time which he didn’t know what to do with but he somehow ended up in Wrath on the Ferryman’s ship. He did visit often after saving them from the river Styx and grew quite fond of the sinner. However they were nowhere to be seen on the deck where Gabriel was usually greeted by them.

Possibly they were inside taking care of the passengers and the ship or simply just on a break. The Angel made his way inside, out of the pouring rain. He’d wish to shake the water out of his wings but he didn’t dare want to ruin the interior of the vessel which the Ferryman did so hard to keep comfortable for the souls aboard. Gabriel truly admired how kind they were despite being a sinner, he wished he could have some more of that himself as he lost his temper too quickly at times.

He dissipated his wings and walked through the corridors of the ship in hopes of finding the sinner who cherished him so much. Too much for their own good.

After wandering for minutes between the hallways there was still no sight of the Ferryman, perhaps they were in their cabin after all. He turned on his heel to head back to the direction of their quarters. He found the door cracked open but still knocked politely before opening it. “Charon?”

There was no answer and the husk seemed to be nowhere in the room. Bed and desk were empty, the canvas propped up in their painting corner of their room seemed unfinished. Gabriel stepped closer to the painting and realized it was another one of him. The amount of works the Ferryman made for him were always flattering and impressive.

He hovered his hand over the canvas, looking at the wings that were barely started. Some of the strokes looked harsher like they were a result of frustration. He then noticed the paint palette to the side with various mixes of blues that never seemed to get the shade of his wings just right. The Ferryman was always a perfectionist, especially when it came to making art depicting their savior.

Gabriel’s mind wandered, maybe he could help them with their paintings one day so they could get the color just right. Even if he didn’t care about the details being perfect he didn’t want his friend to stress over such small things. He knew they already had enough on their shoulders for taking the job of ferrying the souls of the damned around.

He turned away from the painting, right, he still needed to find where they were. He was growing worried until he remembered one place he hadn’t checked, his own quarters. The Ferryman had made a room for him a while ago so Gabriel could have longer stays instead of having to fly back to heaven. The room was the biggest the Ferryman could find, akin to their own room.

Gabriel opened the door to his cabin and looked around the room until his eyes settled upon the Ferryman who was sleeping in his bed. It was more like a nest now with all of the pillows and blankets Gabriel piled onto it. Gabriel sighed and approached the nest, looking down at the skeleton resting peacefully. It was hard to tell whenever they were actually asleep so he was careful with his movements so as to not wake them.

Did they really miss him that much to crawl into his bed while he was gone? He was not able to visit for a while. He carefully sat down on the edge of the bed, watching their chest rise and fall with each breath despite the fact their flesh and lungs had long been discarded. He didn’t question the logic of it.

He carefully got up again to take off the pieces of armor which were starting to get uncomfortable. The breastplate and pauldrons were especially the most annoying pieces. But with those parts of his armor finally off he got into the bed next to the Ferryman, letting his body relax into the mattress. It certainly wasn’t as soft as his bed in heaven but it was comfortable nonetheless. He appreciated that despite the scarce materials in Wrath the Ferryman still wished to give Gabriel the best comfort they could.

His head perked up when he heard the husk move in the bed, turning over so their covered face looked at Gabriel. Noticing the ashy dark skin with the white and gold armor. “My light?” Their voice was still heavy with sleep.

“Shhh, you can go back to sleep, my darkness.” He whispered, reaching out and gently rubbing their arm.

“Oh no you should have warned me- I- I should have been there to greet you-” They tried to sit up, looking around the room. “Oh my- I shouldn’t be in your room, I shouldn’t have been resting- I should-”

“Charon.”

They were cut off when Gabriel grabbed their wrists, grip gentle but firm. “Please, do not fret. You can rest here, I didn't mean to disturb your slumber.” He reached up to put a hand on the side of their clothed face. “You deserve a break for all of the work you have done.”

They didn’t resist when Gabriel pulled them back down on the bed. Holding them close so their body was against his, their head resting on his chest. They relaxed at the sound of the angel’s heartbeat while also trying to not panic at how close they were to him. “…Thank you, my light.”

The two held each other close, the Ferryman’s hands unconsciously feeling Gabriel’s skin, making the Angel quietly blush underneath his helmet. Gabriel hugged the Ferryman closer, summoning his wings again which were now dry. Wrapping them around both of them, the soft feathers brushing against the Ferryman’s bones. They looked at the wings in awe every time even if they saw them up close multiple times before.

His wings always reminded them of the sky when they were alive, the blue was so beautiful. Usually the Ferryman hated recalling their memories from earth or even of the times they still had flesh but this, they liked. They could stare into Gabriel’s wings forever, like their own sky. They didn’t need to make it to heaven to truly see it, all their heaven was right here in their arms.

Neither wanted to let go of each other, they didn’t need to speak, they just enjoyed each other’s company until sleep took them both.

Hours later the Ferryman had awoken again, still in Gabriel’s bed but the angel was nowhere to be found. They felt something in their hand and looked down, a blue shiny feather between their boney appendages. If they could physically smile then they would be.

They kept the feather close, this would be the perfect reference for their painting. They could finally get the color right.

Yet they wished that maybe their light could be there for a real reference. It’d be an honor to have Gabriel help with one of their paintings one day.

But for now they had to be patient.

[truearchangel]

ㅤ"I am not a Morningstar." He really doesn't like that comparison, a line of that power, the hierarchy he is a part of. Michael doubts, with every fiber of his being, that Lucifer would agree with that wording either. Of looping his twin who damned him to this fate in any sort of similarity to himself. Of any sort of comparison to his "unholy self".

ㅤIt doesn't matter that they look even more alike now, that they're practically on the same level, they weren't not even. Nor did he think Lucifer would ever consider them even. Or would even care. It doesn't seem like such an unreasonable thing either, the things he was thinking and feeling when it came to his twin. He does wish it wasn't the case, that they did get along, but Michael was confident in saying that would simply never be the case.

ㅤAnd he has no one to blame but himself for that.

ㅤ"In this situation I do not consider myself higher or lower than you. Even if I do not have the title of Overlord, it isn't as if it wouldn't be easy to crush some of them and steal their territory. I simply have no interest in it." So power level he considers himself perhaps a bit above the Overlords, bit tied to Alastor that does pull him back down. So even. Neutral.

ㅤIt's more comfortable that way anyway, to be on equal terms with the Radio Demon rather than so high above him. He's content like that too, standing beside him in a way that allows for them to be content with each other and not worried about who has what on the other.

ㅤ"However, as far as she is concerned," because now? With that first statement? He was connecting the dots. "I will always be stronger than her. It's just a matter of figuring out how to use what we caused the proper way, which is entirely your territory." That deal, that power he now had at his disposal. "Perhaps you could play around with it and see what you come up with. Later, when you're feeling up to it."

ㅤMichael would never fear Lilith.

Breaking deals was not such a simple affair, especially if all the terms laid out had not been met. For someone such as Alastor who's very existence was predicated on deals and managing them, to simply go back on one meant damaging his ability to do more. It was a price. One he was not fully sold on paying just yet. And perhaps that was selfish.

But nobody had ever said he was not.

Alastor would need to find a way to fulfill it in some other way - to return Michael's soul back to him. Or otherwise determine how he could get away with reversing the matter and not suffering for it. Things he had to delve deeper into and figure out - things he did not presently have the energy or capacity for, listening to Michael's reassurances and only bringing his awareness back to the conversation at the mention of the 'last part'.

His ears swiveled forward and he briefly considered:

"...I don't know," he began. "In the hierarchy you are... now part of this. Of the line of power."

He was treading carefully; trying not to speak too in-depth on it, lest the brand begin to flare again. It was only by the distraction of this now very-complicated chain of ownership that he was working his logic around that he did not notice the hint he gave with his next words.

"She can use you just as easily as I can now."

The thought made him sick - his back prickled with discomfort and a deep, hot sensation as he shifted his gaze downward. Would she? If she found out? Did she already know? Would she have felt a shift; a change in the power that Alastor had amassed? Would it threaten her?

Alastor fell silent as he considered. Blind to the pain in his spine at the moment. Too concerned now for Michael's safety.

[iamnotlookingidonotseeit]

fascinating revelations out of my dad's professional coaching of the whole family today

my mom scored astonishingly high on empathy and caring for a woman who seemed to find it next to impossible to express that to me

my dad has done an insane amount of work to be so warm and personable considering that his natural inclination is towards strong reserve rooted in anxiety (just like me!!)

my sister shocked - SHOCKED 🙄 - to learn that she scores almost zero in empathy AND very high on manipulation

actually shocking reveal that my sister always knew she was my mom's favorite. like I kind of assumed she was mean to both of us but apparently most of the biting comments were for me

[hollow-vok]

Ohh im obssesed

[aeide-thea]

poäng appreciation post 💛

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Do you ever listen to someone speak and marvel at how smooth, free-flowing, and free of pauses it is?

Because I sure do. I can’t do that.

Maybe that’s why I feel like most people’s speech is insincere even when it isn’t… because it sounds like how I would recite or read a script. That explains why I view people who aren’t native English speakers, have a heavy accent, and take long pauses to think of the words they need to say as being more trustworthy… because my cadence is similar to theirs; and we both stumble over words.

[lisxdumbr]

And I hope my landlord explotes btw