#My brother and I laughed so hard about Silent Realms

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Ok ok but like being a Christian playing Skyward Sword is honestly kind of hilarious.

Praying to “save your progress”

Spiritual growth via being attacked by terrifying metallic guardians that will shatter your soul

Praying for world peace by essentially saying “please murder this bad guy” and the response is essentially to SQUISH HIM WITH A GIANT ROCK

I love this game 🤣

[moonlightrafe]

The Albatross

summary: Originally an unlikely match, you give birth to Aegon’s first child and his entire world changes.

pairing: Aegon x Strong!Reader

word count: 767

warnings: Description of pain & childbirth, brief mention of blood, guilt.

note: “Albatross” is used metaphorically as a psychological burden dealing with shame or guilt! (and shout out to Taylor Swift)

Aegon wanted to hate you. He wanted to hate your hair and your eyes. Your thick eyelashes, the freckles that dusted your cheeks, the way your nose scrunched when you laughed. Despite wanting to hate you in your entirety, he found himself physically incapable of doing so. As a young boy he refused to admit it, even going so far as to tease you for your features — but he thought you were beautiful. If anything, you could’ve resembled his mother more than a Targaryen.

It wasn’t your features that were wrong, but who you inherited them from; you and your brother’s served as living, breathing reminders of Rhaenyra’s infidelity.

Alicent Hightower had been sure to remind him and his siblings that you and your brothers were a product of their older sister's infidelity. An embarrassment to the family. An insult to the crown, to the realm. Abominations. Bastards.

Screams of pain shook the walls of the Red Keep.

“I can’t do this anymore, Aegon! Please make it stop, it hurts!” you rasped, clawing at the blood-soaked bedsheets. It had been almost 24 hours since your labors had begun. To everyone's surprise, Aegon had yet to leave your side.

“We’re almost there, my love. You’re doing a great job,” your husband encouraged as he placed a chaste kiss to your sweat-drenched forehead, which you only returned with a death glare.

“I cannot take it anymore! Just get it out! Cut it out if you have to!”

One of your handmaids tried to dab at your forehead with a cloth, but you gripped her hand forcefully.

Aegon gave her a sympathetic look as he got her out of your grasp, locking his fingers with yours.

“You know we can’t do that, my love. I will not risk losing you.”

You winced as your midwife slid a finger around the base of your opening. All day long you had been violated against your will. Childbirth was not only painful, but humiliating. For Aegon’s sake, you silently prayed the babe was a boy. You weren’t sure if you would be willing to go through this again.

“I can feel the head, your grace. Just a few more big pushes for me and the babe will be here.”

You groaned loudly, your teeth grinding together as another contraction wracked your frame. Pain radiated down your spine and into your groin. You felt like you were being ripped apart at the seams. Being eaten by Sunfyre seemed to be a more pleasant fate than this.

“You hear that? You’re almost done. You’re doing so good.”

You squeezed onto Aegon’s hand as hard as you could, pushing with all the strength in your body. The harder you pushed, the sooner it would be over. You needed it to be over. With a final push, your vision began to blur and your mind went blank.

Before you knew it, loud cries pulled you back to Earth, and coo’s from your handmaidens filled the room. You laid back with a sigh of relief.

Finally.

The handmaids quickly handed the babe to Aegon so you could get cleaned up.

“A girl,” she stated proudly, “and she looks just like you, my queen.”

“Like me?” You shot up.

“Lay back your grace, you need to relax,” she scolded you.

Throughout your pregnancy there was a fear in the back of your mind, that if the babe inherited your features that Aegon would be disappointed. Turns out, you couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Yes,” he chuckled, tears swelling in his eyes, “like you. She is absolutely beautiful.”

He placed the baby in your arms, smiling down at the two of you.

A wave of guilt had crashed over Aegon at the sight of his newborn daughter. As well as your initial reaction to her looks. Thinking about the torment you endured for those same features in a world full of violet eyes and snow-white hair. How could he have been so cruel to you for something so fickle?

He couldn’t help but think about Ser Harwin Strong. And the fact that he probably shared the same thoughts as him the first time he laid eyes on you as a babe. This baby was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and the thought of anyone making her believe anything else made his blood boil. He would simply not allow it. Anyone who even dare whisper a word regarding your daughters features would lose their tongue for it.

Although the responsibility of sitting the Iron Throne loomed heavy over Aegon’s head it wasn’t until this very moment that he had true reason to be motivated to rule: his new family

[deadsetobsessions]

Danny laid across his throne, legs planted across the left arm of the ornate chair and back pressed uncomfortably against the right.

"Listen," Danny started, letting his head flop to the side as he glared at a hovering Observant. "This meeting has wasted enough of my time. You all have been arguing for hours and that's without Clockwork slowing things down."

"Your Majesty, this is a matter of great importance. Belial means to overthrow and rule my-our world!"

"I am distinctly aware aware of that," Ancients, Danny couldn't wait to go home and rid himself of the formal speech he'd had to adopt in order to be taken seriously. Well, as seriously as he cared to be taken when sprawled across his throne instead of sitting on it intimidatingly or something. He slowly placed his gaze on the suddenly still demon sitting across from him. "Yet you've proposed fifteen different plans that were all unviable for whatever reasons you've cooked up. Your conclusion is that I must step in. Does your world not have heroes to take care of it?"

The demon- another lord of hell from this Belial’s universe- fell silent.

“Ah. But if they do, they would also take care of you.”

“No- no, that’s not-”

Danny allowed his voice to drop to the artic freeze he knew his core was capable of. "I opened these these doors to allow all of you to present me with reasonable concerns regarding your own universes and realms. What is not on the table for discussion is your petty politics. Do you think I am unaware of your intentions in tattling to me? That I do not know you are trying to use me to further your own position?"

"Your Majesty, I-" The demon growled out, fear slowly coating its expression.

"It no longer amuses me. You think that I am young and easy to manipulate." Danny froze the demon to its chair. It tried to break free, but Danny isn't the High King of the Infinite Realms for nothing. "Bring to me a miserable problem like this ever again, one that could be easily solved if you used even a smidgen of your intelligence, and you will find exactly how I tore Pariah Dark from his throne."

Not that Danny knew how he did it either, he just did it.

"Yes, Your Majesty. My-my apologies."

The room is dead (Danny patted himself on the back for the pun) silent. Some of the Ancients looked bored, like Clockwork who knew Danny would never hurt them, but everyone else looked close to crying. He held eye contact with the demon until it looked away.

When Danny settled back into the throne and allowed his ice to dissipate, the room let out a collective sigh of relief.

"The next item on the agenda is another demon, by the name of Trigon." Clockwork announced, the large piece of paper comically huge next to his currently toddler-like body.

"Another?"

He flicked an amused look at the previous demon, who kept his trap firmly shut.

"He is attempting to take over multiple worlds in an attempt to conquer the universe. I had thought you would be interested in this one, Your Majesty, as he plans to begin with Earth 135."

Danny stilled. That was his Earth. His haunt.

"Does he know of the Realms?"

"Vaguely, I believe."

"Then he should know the rules. I will wait to see if my Earth's heroes are capable to step to the task."

Danny would be a hypocrite if he doesn’t let the heroes of his Earth try first, even if he is one of those heroes.

"Of course," Clockwork grinned at him, fully aware of the shit Danny's about to stir back home. Ah, the wonders of being able to influence the time stream. Perhaps the young Ghost King will finally get some friends, and maybe get those pesky speedsters to stop making his jobs so hard. Cujo yipped at Danny as the King begrudgingly moved onto the next topic.

——

Raven shuddered as she watched the footage of her "brothers" laughing while steering their human "meatbags" around. She turned back to the giant circle of donated blood and herb filled candles.

“This is a nuclear option, don’t you think?” Green Arrow mumbled, clearly not against it by the half hearted way he’d said it. The Star City billionaire nursed his cracked ribs.

“No,” she floated over to where Zatanna and Constantine kneeled, trying to see if they needed help with the inscriptions. “Trigon is coming soon, and my brothers will no doubt find their way here in a moment. We are out of time.”

“Yeah. Plus, we don’t want Raven to be turned into a portal.” Garfield piped up, switching animal forms rapidly.

“No one dies.” Red Robin muttered. His wrist computer was open, monitoring the surroundings of the open field they found themselves uneasily occupying. Batman grunted in affirmation, eyeing the tree line. Every hero except the magical ones were on look out, preparing themselves for one more battle against the two demons that were trying to take Raven and force her into becoming a portal.

“Hey guys, we might want to hurrythisupbecausethey’re kind of close!” Impulse slammed into the room.

“Done.” Zatanna got up, motioning for everyone to step back. In Superman’s case, he floated back.

“Too bad you won’t get to use it,” a voice drawled, dripping with malice and the screams of a thousand souls.

“Come now, little sister. Why fight fate? Be grateful father has deigned to spare you. If not for your dirty blood being useful, you would be dead, little sister. Give up, before our patience runs out alongside the lives of your little pets.” Another, mocking, voice gleefully rumbled.

Raven would rather gouge out her own heart than to claim these two as any type of family.

“You won’t touch them.” Raven snarled, powers rising even as the marks on her body burned a painful red.

“Buy us some time!”

With that, the group of beaten and battered heroes rose to clash against just two demons, for a chance to save their world.

——

The Circle crackled. Danny felt a tug on his core. He followed the thread of the summoning. Oh. It was his haunt. Earth 135. Hm. It tasted of blood. Desperation? A hint of anticipation. Oh, an overload of fear. Could use some more hope, but Danny understood that it was rather hard to season these kinds of summonings with hope.

“Stop.” Danny commanded, straightening in his chair.

“Sire, we have more-”

“There is an issue with my haunt,” with that, he followed the summons.

——

“Ugh,” was the first thing everybody on the frozen battlefield heard. The demons had smacked away many of the heroes, but they all turned as one when the circle lit up a bright green. “Why do you people always use blood? I’m dead, I don’t need any more iron!”

A boy

Raven’s eldest brother let out a hideous rumble. “You fools tried to summon the king, and you got a dead boy. And now, you’ve doomed another.”

Constantine looked resigned, and regretful. “I am so, so sorry,” he whispered. It was just a kid. John might be a lot of things, but even he found summoning dead kids for demons to devour was just a step too far. “Shite, we got the wrong fucking-”

“Hey, man, that’s rude,” the boy snapped back, waving John off.

“Brother, kill the whelp.”

“I vote on not killing the whelp. Not killing at all, really,” the boy stepped out of the massive blood circle, wrinkling his nose at the drying stains.

“This is not one of your pesky democracies, fool.”

In response, the demons lunged at him, ignoring the screams of the surrounding heroes as they shoved their human arms through the boy’s stomach.

“So,” the boy continues, “I heard your dad was after my haunt?”

“Your haunt, whelp? This earth shall be his! And through him, ours!” Raven slammed against the demons with her power, shadows enlarging and tossing them away from the unharmed… ghost boy?

“Is it?”

——

Wow, these demons are so rude. Normally, it’d be a breath of fresh air compared to the stuffy halls of his throne room. But since they’re attacking his haunt…

“Thanks. You’re… Raven, right?”

Raven nodded, arms outstretched in concentration as she held her brothers back.

“You have to go. We’re- we’re sorry you got pulled into this, but it’s not safe here.”

“Eh. It’s cool. You don’t have to do that anymore, by the way.” Danny stepped forward once more, green skin shifting and gliding as everything about him sharpened. He flew at the demons piloting the human shells, catching them around the necks and dragging the demons out of their stolen bodies. The threw them even further away as he floated in the air, a beacon of green and white. Raven thought it looked like hope.

“My name is Phantom, the High King of the Infinite Realms,” let it be known that Danny always had an eye for dramatic entrances. He shifted into something more off, more eldritch, more kingly. The crown flared to life above his head. “You have invaded my haunt. You have challenged me. What do you plead?”

“You’re not-” they said.

“Wrong answer,” Danny flew at them once more, body contorting into something undeniably terrorizing, his maw unhinging and crunching down on the demons with a sound that made the present heroes cringe.

“Ugh,” Danny grunted, turning back and floating peacefully to the group of heroes- Tucker and Sam would be so stoked he met Wonder Woman and Batman!- and chewed rapidly. He shifted back into his normal form. “Eating demons always leaves me with indigestion. And their bones get everywhere up in my teeth!” Danny pulled out a giant femur looking bone from his mouth, despite it not logically fitting in there.

“Right. No eating demons, solid life advice.” Red Robin said.

“Right? So, you’re Raven! It’s nice to meet you! Think you can summon your dear ol’ dad for me?”

“But we summoned you to stop Trigon, not help him come here.” Superman said, frowning.

“One! That summoning circle is wack. Those things you piled up as offerings? Mid. Also, if you thought you could control me with those terribly written spells, you’re dead wrong. And yes, I am making puns about death.” Danny jabs an aggressive finger towards the shabby circle.

“Have you considered that maybe not every being that can be summoned wants a shit ton of useless blood? Like what if I wanted food? And two, how am I supposed to beat up Trigon if he’s still stuck in the prison realm?”

“I have a cup of coffee,” Nightwing offered. “Kid Flash could probably get you food, right?”

“Yep, surethinganythingyouwantyourMajesty.”

“You wouldn’t catch me alive accepting food from a speedster. You people fuck up the timelines so much,” Danny grumbled, crunching on the last of Raven’s brothers. Raven thought she should probably sit down.

“But you’re dead.” Batman said, something about his voice catching the sharp attention of his protégés who all started making cutting motions at him.

“Fair,” Danny pointed at him, grinning. “I’ll take two pizza and Nightwing’s coffee as payment for taking care of your little demon overlord problem. Raven, summon your dad.”

——

Didn’t much like the characterization of this piece but it’s been in my drafts for a while and I needed it out

[dyingswanpavlova]

My secret obsession - Pt. 1 || 》 Aemond Targaryen 《

pairing: Aemond Targaryen, sister!reader

warnings: incest between siblings (implied)

summary: Aemond's younger sister is secretly in love with him.

The thing that hurt me the most was probably that he did not belong to me. A constant reminder of the painful truth that broke my heart every day all over again.

All I could do was silently observe from the sidelines.

His face was the most beautiful piece of art and it was engraved so deep in my memory, that I would see it whenever I closed my eyes.

His voice was...silk. Honey. Sweetness.

But at the same time he was so manly.

The was no man in the whole realm who could keep up with him. His abilities were beyond compare and so was everything else about him. Many people feared him because he had the biggest dragon. Others loathed him for his ability to be resentful for...well, forever.

I did not.

In my eyes, he was perfect. He was everything.

"Did you hear what I said, sister?"

My head snapped up and I stared at Aegon in confusion.

"What?" I muttered absentmindedly.

He groaned in annoyance.

"You have not been paying attention again." He said so slowly that it was almost offensive. I shook my head and shrugged.

"Forgive me. I was distracted. What did you say?"

Aegon shot me a suspicious look and I immediately knew I was in for a questioning. I suppressed the urge to sigh. Or flee.

"You have been distracted quite a lot lately." He said thoughtfully. "What are you so dreamy about?"

I rolled my eyes. "People tend to think, Aegon, even if you do not."

Aemond was currently swinging his sword at Criston Cole. It did not take him longer than two minutes to defeat him. Again.

I let my gaze wander along the training yard. Despite Aegon's rather weak attempts at perceptiveness, there were some things he was good at reading.

I was one of them.

I did not need to look at him to see the lazy smirk that slowly plastered across his face.

"Thinking, hm? And what is it you are so thinky about?" He raised a brow and ruffled my hair.

I rolled my eyes again and gave him a quick shove.

"None of your business."

His smirk widened and he brought his face down so he could whisper in my ear.

"I think I know the answer. And I think it indeed is part of my business, considering our kinship."

"Aegon, do not dare-"

"Do you think I am blind, sweet sister? I see the way you look at him."

My face flushed so hard it was bordering on painful.

"You know noth-"

"In fact." He interrupted me, feigning thoughtfulness. "I think everyone knows it."

"Aegon, shut up!"

He laughed and raised his hands in mock surrender.

"Aw, come on. I am your big brother after all. Who is going to tease you if not me?"

I kept my gaze glued to the ground firmly. Suddenly I felt extremely uneasy. Nauseous even.

Aegon seemed to notice my discomfort and his eyes softened. He tipped my chin up with his index finger. I tried to look away but he made me look up anyway.

"It is more than mere infatuation, is it not?" He asked softly.

I looked down and remained silent. Infatuation. What a ridiculous word. No, I was not infatuated with Aemond. I was starstruck, I was obsessed, I was insane.

I swallowed thickly and nodded, unable to meet his gaze. The pavement was suddenly very interesting.

"Does he know?"

My head snapped up and my eyes widened in horror.

"No! No, Aegon, you cannot-"

He placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it.

"Calm down. I will not tell him."

I took a shaky breath and nodded. "Thank you." I muttered.

Aegon shrugged and returned his gaze to Aemond, who was currently busy tackling Ser Criston to the ground. That drew a smirk from Aegon. Aemond was better than him.

Aemond was better than anyone.

"You should tell him." He said suddenly.

"No." I said firmly and without hesitation.

Aegon snorted and shook his head. "Are you so sure that he does not feel the same for you?"

I swallowed and shook my head. "Even if he did. It is futile. Mother did not betroth us. She betrothed you and Helaena years ago. If she wanted me to marry Aemond-"

"She only betrothed us, because she holds on to the ridiculous thought that I will be king one day." Aegon said calmly. "Aemond needs a wife. And you most certainly need a husband."

I frowned and shot him a glare.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It simply means that nothing goes against you and Aemond together."

Was it really that simple? But then again...

Aemond was currently helping Criston back up, before he shot a nonchalant look at Luke. The tension was thick, but he would not act on it. Not yet. Aemond was not one to act recklessly. But he was one for retaliation.

Everything in the right time.

"He does not love me." I said quietly.

"How do you know?"

"He never...showed..."

"And did you?" Aegon raised a teasing brow.

I shot him a helpless look. "That's different."

"Oh, yeah? And why?"

I knew no answer to that. But a part of me was so mortified to find out the truth, that I preferred dying without ever finding out.

"You are not even in love with him. You are obsessed."

I gasped in shock.

"What?" I said in a choked whisper.

He nodded. "I can see it in your eyes. You would die for him."

"I would die for you, too, idiot. Or for Helaena. We are family."

Aegon let out a mirthless chuckle and crossed his arms infront of his chest. I hated it when he got smartassy like that.

"That is not what I mean and you know it."

"Aegon, shut your-"

"Sister. Brother."

I froze and swallowed before I looked up and met Aemond's intense gaze.

"You defeated Ser Criston." I said in a breathless voice. Aegon snorted. I would have gladly pushed him off a cliff, was there a cliff anywhere nearby.

Aemond nodded once.

"He taught me well." Was all he had to say.

We stood there in an awkward silence, before he cleared his throat.

"I shall go and get myself ready for dinner." He finally said and shot me a soft look. "Shall I take you to your chambers on my way?"

I was already about to respond, when Aegon pushed me and I crashed into Aemond's steel hard chest. He immediately wrapped his arms around me to steady me and looked at our older brother with increduloucy.

"You better, brother. I was just about to try my luck with Criston." Aegon said innocently. I glared at him before he vanished further into the training yard.

Aemond's hand lingered for a moment longer on my back and I tried not to look too affected.

"Are you alright?" He asked in that sweet voice. I forced a smile and nodded.

"Aegon was just being an idiot. As per usual." I muttered as he started walking me back towards my chambers.

"What did you talk about? You seemed agitated."

You seemed agitated.

He had paid attention? While engaging in a sword fight with our most skilled knight?

"He was merely being his annoying self. Nothing in particular." I muttered.

He was silent for a while. He had his hand on the small of my back while we walked. I tried my hardest to keep a straight back and appear like the effortlessly perfect princess I was supposed to be. As effortlessly perfect as he was. But for some reason it just got harder and harder for me.

"You were really good. The way you feinted to attack him, but then spun around and made him fall was splendid. The look on his face was priceless. He told me how proud he is of you the other day."

Aemond raised a brow in surprise. "You saw that?"

I tried my best not to blush as I nodded.

"You know that I have been watching you train for years." I smirked and added: "I have been watching Aegon as well, but after a while it got boring to watch Criston constantly beat him. It was like watching the same fight over and over again."

Aemond let out a rare chuckle.

"I get your point."

After a moment, he added: "Did you read the book I gave you?"

"The philosophy one?"

He nodded. I nodded as well.

"I did not know being would be considered such a fragile thing. But considering how quickly life finds its end, it should not have surprised me so much."

He smiled. It was subtle. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

"It is indeed. The metaphor with the flower reminded me of you."

"Me?" I spun around in surprise. "Why?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "You, too, seem to need other people around you to some degree, but you prefer the solitude of your own mind. Soliture and tranquility." After a moment, he said in a softer voice: "I am like that."

I looked at him thoughtfully.

"That could be applied to many people though."

He smirked softly. "Also, it reminded me of that book you read when you were younger."

"Ah, yes. The secret flower language." I smiled. "You remember that?"

"Mhm." He hummed softly. "Of course. You spent hours and hours explaining each flower to me and what they meant."

I bit my lip and shook my head. "Forgive me for the inconvenience."

His head spun around so quickly that he looked very unlike himself. "What are you apologizing for?"

"I thought...Well, I thought..."

"I was fascinated. Not annoyed." He said quietly. I blinked slowly, then my lips twitched into a soft smile.

"Oh."

He shook his head and smiled as well. A moment later we reached my chamber door. I looked up at him only to realize he was staring at me.

After a long moment, I said: "What?"

"You look pretty."

Without hesitation, I blushed furiously. And of course, instead of being a gentleman and ignoring it, he had to smirk knowingly.

"Can you not even handle a little compliment without blushing?"

I rolled my eyes, but I smiled, still blushing.

"Not from you." When I realized how that sounded, I quickly added: "You are my brother after all, how genuine can your compliment be then?"

He shook his head and sighed.

"I will see you at dinner." He said, reached out his hand and gently touched my cheek. Seemingly nonchalant and trivial, but my heart was pounding wildly in my chest. Every touch of his felt like the short, delicate moment of being ice, seconds away from melting. And then you are no longer ice, but water. Bland and sad.

The moment he withdrew his hand, I was exactly that.

Bland and sad.

"I will see you at dinner." I repeated in a soft whisper.

[diavolo-is-babygirl]

Diavolo x Male MC (Guest Starring Mammon): New Year’s Eve Fic

The Demon Lord’s Castle was unusually quiet for New Year’s Eve. The brothers had been invited to a celebration in the Human World, leaving Diavolo, Mammon, and MC behind to keep the peace in the Devildom. The massive halls seemed empty without the usual bustle, and despite the twinkling lights adorning the castle, an air of melancholy lingered.

Diavolo sat in the observatory, his gaze fixed on the sky. The stars above seemed distant and cold, their light doing little to ease the storm in his heart. MC hesitated in the doorway, holding a tray with hot cocoa he’d made to cheer Diavolo up. Beside him, Mammon crossed his arms, frowning.

“This whole ‘quiet celebration’ thing sucks,” Mammon muttered, breaking the silence. “I mean, where’s the party? The fireworks?”

“It’s not really about the party,” MC said softly, glancing at Diavolo. “It’s about being together.”

Mammon sighed, clearly torn between his usual bluster and concern for the prince. “Yeah, yeah. I just… He’s been like this all day. Ain’t normal for the big guy.”

MC nodded, stepping forward. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Good. ‘Cause if anyone can get through to him, it’s you,” Mammon said, his tone unusually sincere. With that, he left, muttering about giving them space.

MC approached Diavolo cautiously, setting the tray down on the low table nearby. “Diavolo?” he said gently. The prince startled slightly, as if he’d forgotten he wasn’t alone. He offered a weak smile.

“Ah, MC. I didn’t hear you come in. You should be celebrating, not worrying about me.”

“I wanted to celebrate with you,” MC replied, sitting beside him. “And… I noticed you’ve been quiet today. Is something wrong?”

Diavolo’s smile faded, his shoulders sagging. For a moment, he didn’t answer, his gaze returning to the stars. “The new year always brings a sense of… anticipation,” he said finally. “For most, it’s exciting. A fresh start. But for me…” He hesitated, his voice growing heavy. “I can’t help but think of all the responsibilities waiting for me. All the decisions I’ll have to make. I don’t know if I’m ready.”

MC’s chest ached at the vulnerability in Diavolo’s voice. “You’re one of the strongest people I know,” he said softly. “You’ll figure it out, just like you always do.”

Diavolo shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping him. “Sometimes, I wish my father were here. He always knew what to do, even when the weight of the realm seemed impossible to bear. But he’s not here, and I’m left to fill shoes that feel far too big for me.”

MC hesitated, unsure of how to comfort him. He wished he could take away Diavolo’s pain, to ease the burden he carried. But all he could do was be there for him, as much as he could. “I can’t imagine how hard this is for you,” MC said carefully. “But I think your father would be proud of you. You’ve worked so hard to bring the realms together, to make this a better place for everyone.”

Diavolo turned to him, his golden eyes searching MC’s face. “Do you really think so?”

“I know so,” MC said firmly, his cheeks flushing under the intensity of Diavolo’s gaze. “You’ve done so much already. And you don’t have to face the future alone. You have Barbatos, the brothers, and… me.”

Diavolo’s eyes softened, and he reached out, his hand covering MC’s. “Thank you, MC,” he said quietly. “Your faith in me means more than you know.”

For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of the moment settling between them. MC’s heart pounded, his unspoken feelings threatening to spill over. He hesitated, then took a deep breath, deciding it was now or never. “Diavolo,” he began, his voice trembling. “I… I want you to know that no matter what happens, I’ll always be here for you. Not just as your friend, but… because I care about you. A lot.”

Diavolo’s eyes widened, surprise flickering across his face. Before he could respond, the door burst open, and Mammon stumbled in, clearly unaware of the tension in the room. “Oi! You two! Midnight’s in five minutes!” Mammon called, his grin faltering as he noticed the serious expressions on their faces. “Uh… Did I interrupt somethin’?”

MC quickly pulled his hand back, his face burning. “N-No, it’s fine!”

Diavolo chuckled softly, the tension easing slightly. “You’ve impeccable timing, Mammon.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mammon grumbled, scratching the back of his head. “Just hurry up and come downstairs. Everyone’s waitin’ to toast.”

As Mammon left, MC stood, his heart still racing. He avoided looking directly at Diavolo, unsure of how to face him after his confession. But before he could leave, Diavolo’s hand caught his wrist, stopping him.

“MC,” Diavolo said, his voice warm and steady. “We’ll talk more later. I promise.”

MC nodded, a shy smile tugging at his lips. “Okay.” And as they walked downstairs together, the weight in Diavolo’s heart felt a little lighter, knowing that whatever the new year brought, he wouldn’t have to face it alone.

[leviathans-body-pillow]

A proposal (Lucifer x Mc)

After lesson 60-7 when Mc stays the night with Lucifer.

Mc is gender neutral with they then pronouns.

Warnings: slight ptsd

You and Lucifer laid together in each other’s arms. Both of you trying to capitalize on the little time you had left together. Tomorrow was the party and in the morning they’d be leaving you again. It was now or never to try and spend some quiet time together.

Lucifer groaned at the sound of his D.D.D buzzing. He let go of you for a moment to roll over and grab it off his night stand.

Beelzebub: We should make Mc officially part of the family. We can bring it up to Diavolo tomorrow.

Lucifer: Are you serious?

This had to be some sort of joke. Lucifer rubbed the bridge of his nose at the thought. You notice his irritation, scootching over to cuddle back up to him.

“What’s the matter Luci?” You cooed running your hand gently over his chest.

“My foolish brothers, have they said anything strange to you today?”

You paused to think for a moment, they say a lot of strange stuff on the regular so it’s hard to say. “Strange how?” You definitely needed some clarification.

Lucifer shook his head . “Beel texted the group chat proposing we make you an official family member.

“Ah yes, him and Belphie were talking about it earlier.” You said leaving out that you may have been the one to put the idea in their head. Honestly you didn’t think they’d take it so seriously.

“I’m not sure how he thinks that will work. We can’t very well adopt an adult human.” Lucifer sat up rubbing his temple. You sat up as well facing him.

“No but you could marry me.”

Lucifer laughed under his breathe before he noticed how dead serious you were. His face changed from one of slight amusement to one of sorrow. There’s a deep longing in his eyes but the way he frowned made your heart ache.

“Oh mc…” Lucifer sighed not able to meet you gaze.

“Don’t you want to marry me?” You can’t help the way your voice cracked. Your tried not to take his reaction as rejection but it broke your heart all the same.

Lucifer was silent for a moment, he needed to collect himself before answering. He took a deep breathe before turning to face you. “Mc I love you. Before I say anything else I want you to know that I cherish you above all else in the three realms. I would love nothing more than to marry you and claim you as my own.” Lucifer cradled you face in his hand, looking deep into you eyes. You could still see the sorrow deep inside them.

“But?” You asked, you just knew there was a but.

“But, I’m a fallen angel, a demon and you’re a human. Even if Diavolo would approve of our marriage, the Celestial realm will never allow such a thing. They would start a war to prevent our union.” Lucifer looked so tired.

“How can you be so sure?” You sniff as tears freely fell down you cheeks. You’re just being childish, you knew he’s right.

“Because they’ve done it before.” Lucifer’s eye lost focus as he stared off into the distance not really looking at anything. He relived the celestial war. The clashing of metal, the blood mixed with white feathers. He saw himself holding your crumpled form that same as he held Lilith in her final moments. Micheal stood triumphantly over you.

“Lucifer?” You called to him, “Lucifer, come back to me.” You shook him gently trying to snap him out of his trance.

He almost gasped, his eye refocusing on you as he came back to reality. “Mc?” His eyes became glossy with tears, but they never fell.

“It’s ok, you’re ok Lucifer we’re safe.” You hushed him, running your hand threw his hair and down his cheek. Lucifers shoulders slumped as his relaxed into you touch. You pulled him into your arms holding him close.

“Mc I’m so sorry, truly I want nothing more than to marry you.” Lucifer buried his face in the crook of you neck, holding you tightly as if you’re about to disappear.

“Luci I’m sorry, I just don’t want to leave you again.” You started to cry desperate to hold onto him.

“I know starlight, I don’t want to leave you either.” Lucifer won’t cry, not now not in front of you. He’ll hold it in until he’s back home alone in his study late at night when the house of lamentation is still and silent. For now he has you in his arms and that’s all he needed to keep himself together.

[orionsangel86]

A Final Farewell

A short story about Death and Dream, set after the end of the comics. MAJOR comic spoilers for the canonical comic ending and what happens. This is pretty sad. But perhaps cathartic? Fair warning: I was a weeping mess whilst writing it, so maybe bear that in mind?

The way is long and hard. The baron lifeless landscape stretches to the horizon and beyond. The sky is a deep dark void. Starless, sunless, empty. You may wonder why you continue to trudge along the silent road into eternity, never truly knowing what lies ahead of you. But you are never alone. She walks beside you even now, never letting go of your hand. You do not fear her. You have known and loved her your entire life, and she has loved you just as long. The way is long and hard, but the sunless lands welcome you with open arms and a promise of eternal sleep in the dark.

Death sighs as she sinks her feet into the glittering sand of a sunless beach. Waves crash against the shore in a soothing melody that sings of peace, calm and contentment. a figure sits up ahead, gazing out towards the black ocean beyond. The wine-dark sea of ancient times that all beings dream of at some point, and all find themselves facing in the end. A sea that promises nothing within its depths but eternal blissful peace.

She sits beside him and catches a small smile on his lips. There is no light here, in her realm, but they can both see each other perfectly clearly.

“Hello, my sister.”

Death smiles sadly. “Technically, you can’t call me that anymore.”

He hums to himself in contemplation.

“Perhaps not. But then again you visited me, and I have never known you as anything else. So my sister you shall still be whilst you are here.”

Death turns to look at him. He is relaxed, smiling, and less rigid than he ever was in life.

“I can accept that. My dear brother.”

Morpheus, for we can no longer refer to him as Dream, grins at her. It is an expression he rarely ever displayed in his long life. She supposes he truly is happy to be here, in her realm, among the dead.

“So why are you here?” he asks her.

Death sighs. She doesn’t even really know the answer to that herself. Whilst she may always be within her realm, guiding the souls of the recently deceased to their final resting place (she is doing so even now as she sits at his side), she never really lingers once she drops them off. Her being here in her former brothers eternal peacetime is somewhat out of character.

“Perhaps I missed you?” she answers finally.

“You should not. Even now your brother sits on his throne, in his realm, watching over the dreamers. You should be there for him, at this difficult time.”

Death feels a tremble in her lip. She knows this. She does not need him to speak it.

“I will be there for him. As I was there for Despair. But you must know I was ever so fond of you, as you were, even at your most insufferable.” She nudges him gently and feels him sway and nudge her back. Morpheus was never a tactile creature, but he reaches for her now, and drapes a thin arm around her, pulling her into him. She goes willingly and sighs in his arms.

“Did you ever visit her?” He asks after a short silence.

She knows immediately who he refers to. The first Despair, whose death was violent, and sudden. “Once.” She replies thoughtfully.  “She asked after you. She told me she was worried. That you appeared in her mirror. Even then, all that time ago.”

Morpheus nods solemnly. “I expected as much.”

She sits there for a while, in the cradle of his arms, listening to the distant waves in the dark. When she finally sits up she realises her face is wet with tears. Morpheus reaches out and wipes them from her cheek with his thumb.

“You should not cry for me my sister. I am at peace.”

Death huffs out a small laugh. “Even I can suffer grief my brother.” She sobs.

He smiles sadly. “I would not see you distressed. But I am proud to have been loved by you.”

Morpheus leans forward, and kisses her brow. Then he lies back in the sand and closes his eyes.

“Farewell my sister. Go with my love, and look after Dream. He will need your guidance, and all the love you hold for me.”

She nods and stands up, shaking the glittering black sand off of her jeans. She turns away from Morpheus and wipes her eyes. When she looks back, he is gone.

Death takes in a deep breath and looks out again at the ocean, feeling the breeze in her hair, the sweet scent of salt and spray, and feels the weight of her grief deep within her. Grief, after all, is simply love in another form and she loved him so very much.

Even now she is everywhere, guiding the souls of the dying and dead, taking their hands and holding them through their pain. Even now she walks through her realm, and beyond, through the many worlds of the living across the universe, and she lets herself be soothed by all those lives that she has touched, who love her as she loves them. As always, she carries on.

[everything-person]

Eulogy

Summary: Swan Jones Family Angst read at your own feelings risk

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Hope stood next to Henry as she welcomed all the condolences Storybrooke had to offer. Her mother passing seemed to bring everyone in the realm. Everyone seemed to have a story of her. How she helped them, how she made them laugh, some even how she arrested them.

Though she will miss her mother dearly her attention turned to her father who has been uncharacteristically silent. Since mom died he’s barely spoken a word.

He still carried on as normal. Getting up every morning, going about his days, eating but still she worried. Even as he stood accepting people condolences he was stiff his lips pulled into a tight smile.

The funeral went on. Speeches were given, everyone said their finale goodbye, and then they put her mother to rest.

A large crowd gathered in Granny’s. Even after Granny was gone this place always held a comfort that was much needed for a day like today.

As Hope was speaking with Alex she spied a shadowy figure slip into the back room. She excused herself and followed it, as was her nature growing up in a family of heroes. As she made it in back she caught the familiar silhouette sneak out the back door.

She returned to the main room. Finding her brother talking to Paige.

“I’m sorry can I steal my brother for a moment?”

“Of course. Excuse me.” Paige said as she stepped away to give them some privacy.

Henry turned to his little sister, “Are you okay?”

“I’m worried about dad. He hasn’t said much and I just caught him sneaking out the back door.”

“He probably just needs some time alone. This is hard on all of us.”

“I know but we are processing and dealing with our grief. I’m not so sure he is and I’m worried,” Hope looked down at her hands her voice catching in her throat, “We just lost mom and I’m afraid of losing dad too.”

Henry studied his sister for moment before grabbing her hand and leading her out the door, “Let’s go find him.”

They stopped by the house, the docks, the rabbit hole, the sheriff station, the beanstalk with no luck.

They were walking through the cemetery and found him at their mothers grave. He wasn’t facing her head stone though he had his back to her.

Hope picked up her pace with Henry close behind. Slowing as she got closer to him.

“Dad?” Her voice was soft as if she was afraid her speaking would break him.

“You know I died once. Your mother traveled to the underworld to get me back. She failed. We said goodbye but the gods allowed me to come back. With your mother was where I was meant to be.” He spoke out to the wind never taking his eyes off the empty field in front of him, “She was standing at my grave when I came back. She leapt into my arms and wouldn’t stop kissing. We stayed in each others arms for sometime before heading back to town. We were afraid. Afraid to let go, afraid once of us would disappear again.”

Hope and Henry were standing at his side now. Hope reached up grabbing his arm.

With tears in her eyes she said, “I don’t think she’s coming back dad.”

“Aye. Not this time.” He paused taking a breath, “I knew Happily Ever After couldn’t have lasted forever.”

They stood there in silence for a moment. Allowing the silence, the emptiness, the grief to wash over them. Then Killian spoke again.

“I’m happy your mother is gone.”

Henry’s head near gave himself whiplash how fast his head turned to look at his stepfather. Hope leaned away from her father taken aback by those words.

“I know the losses she experienced. I know the loneliness she felt most of her life. I know the pain she went through when I died.”

He took a breath in before going on. “And I know the pain I’m going through right now. I’ve had my heart in someone’s hand squeezing the life out of it,” he paused wetting his lips, “and that doesn’t even compare to the tightening around it right now. I am glad I am able to keep her from all that again. I’m glad I stopped her from feeling this.”

The words he’s been choking on turn into a chuckle as tears ran down his face as he continued, “I’m happy for my pain, knowing she will never feel it. That she didn’t have to go another day without me.”

He turned now facing the head stone. A minute or so passed and they thought he was finished before he spoke again. “Not a day will go by I won’t think and miss her. But I am glad she’s gone because I love her and I never wanted to bring her pain.”

In that moment Henry spoke up, “She would’ve spared you this pain if she could’ve.” His voice began to break at his words. “She would’ve tried to spare all of us.”

“Aye, lad.” He turned looking at the grown adults he helped raise but in this moment they were two children with tears in their eyes for their mother, “But she can’t. So we must bare this weight and we will do that together.”

“Together.” Hope agreed.

Killian gathered his children in his arm dropping a kiss on each of their heads.

“She wouldn’t have wanted us sulking in a cemetery.” Hope said pulling away from her father and brother, “She’d probably want us sharing a plate of onion rings in her honor.”

They all shared a light laugh.

“Come on let’s get back to Granny’s. Uncle Neal is probably wondering where we disappear to.”

They walked together away from the head stone that read

Emma Swan~Jones

doting mother

loving wife

and destined savior

XxXxXxXxXxX

And that’s all she wrote. Good night everybody!

[pansyparkinsonsworld]

THE LONE WOLF AND THE LAUGHING DRAGON

Rhaella was the youngest daughter of the King, Viserys I Targaryen, and his wife, Alicent Hightower. At the age of twelve, Rhaella was sent to Winterfell for a betrothal to the young Cregan Stark.

CHAPTER ONE: the winter kiss

Rhaella bowed down, before the Northman, looking a little taken aback by how massive he looked. He was as tall as she had thought, but he was too tall. "M-my.." She stuttered. "My young Lord to be.."

He raised a hand to halt her as she began to bow. "My Lady, there is no need for bowing. I am nothing more than a common lord, one who is only concerned about the safety of the realm." He paused for a moment before asking his next question. "Lady Targaryen?" He assumed she was who she was. "Am I correct in assuming that you are a Targaryen?"

"Yes, my Lord." She smiled. "I am that of Princess Rhaella of House Targaryen, third born daughter of King Viserys and Queen Alicent. Princess Rhaella Viserra of House Targaryen."

His eyes widened slightly when he heard her full name, before nodding and smiling. "I see, it is an honor to meet a Princess of House Targaryen." He hesitated for a moment before asking the question he so badly wanted to ask. "If I may be so bold, Princess, may I ask you a question?"

"Yes, my Lord." She nodded, as she stepped forth. She only wore a black dress, topped with a thick fur coat that almost buried her face. "Any question would be preferred."

He was silent for a moment, thinking to myself as he looked at the Princess. Finally, he spoke up. "This is a hard question to ask, but…do you control a dragon? Are all Princesses of House Targaryen bonded with dragons?"

She hesitated, before nodding. "Yes.. What can I call you? You are not yet a Lord, as you are certainly not of age.. We have an age difference, you and I. A slim difference of a year and two moons."

He paused for a moment. "I am Cregan Stark." I said simply. We were both too young to truly need titles, so perhaps it was better this way. "You can call me Cregan, if you would like."

He paused for a moment, unsure if he should ask about the dragons. Would a Targaryen Princess be too offended if her answer was too honest? But he felt he had to know. "What is your dragon's name?"

"Silverwing, that of the late Queen Alysanne's mount." She smiled. She placed a hand on Cregan's long brown hair and giggled, as she touched it. "Your hair.. It's.. beautiful, my Lord. I really like it,"

He could feel his face start to turn red as she started to touch his hair. He was not used to having a beautiful Princess of the Targaryen dynasty pay him attention, and the contact of her hand in his hair only made him blush more than he already was. He stuttered for a moment before getting it out. "Y-you think so? Your hair is beautiful as well."

"I really think it is beautiful, Cregan.." She whispered, her voice low. The winds blew, and Rhaella's hair flew to the right, and she giggled. "Gods!" She giggled. "Thank you for the compliment, Cregan." She smiled at the end.

He smiled as she giggled. He had not really had many interactions with girls his age, so this was a big thing for him. He was almost completely flustered as he spoke. "W-well, it is true." He stuttered. "I can't imagine many girls who have better hair or who are more beautiful than yourself, my lady."

She took Cregan's rough hands to her soft ones, and she looked at his hands. "Gods, what is of your hands? They look rough, and.." She noted. "Have you come out of training? M-my brothers usually have hands like these when they come out of training.."

His face turned even more red as she held my hands. She was right, his hands were rough, and his fingers were scarred from a lifetime of swords and shields and bows and lances. He held up his hands and looked at them. "A lifetime of fighting, my lady." He nodded. "I learned to fight as soon as I could walk, as every Lord of the North does. We are born warriors." He squeezed her hands. They were so soft. "Have you been training as well?"

She shook her head. "I am not allowed to train with a sword. Only my brothers can.." She explained. "I do not mind. My septa says that I knit well, especially by the fire."

He smiled and nodded. "Knitting can be very calming, I am sure. It is never too late to learn the sword though. I am sure your father would allow you to be trained in the blade for self defense should the need ever arise." He paused as I looked at Rhaella. "Would you want to learn, my lady? I would be happy to teach you if your father were to allow it, and if you wanted to."

"I have asked my Father, the King." She explained. But she laughed. "Mother had forbidden me from ever touching a blade or a lance. Helaena thinks of it as horrifying, given that she's rather.. fragile."

He shrugged. "Your mother does what she feels is best for you. That is all any parent may hope to do, but to know how to defend yourself might one day be vital. If the dragons were ever to die out, then the Targaryens would need to be able to defend themselves, just as everyone else must."

He smiled and squeezed Rhaella's hand again. "But if you aren't interested in that, then perhaps I could teach you to ride? We Northerners have many wild horses that you can only find in our lands. I bet I could find you a beautiful filly from the stables."

"I have my sworn sword, Cregan." She giggled. "And I have Silverwing, why would I have a need to ride a horse?" Her sworn sword was that of Ser Clatton of House Vypren. "Is there a silver filly, though? I might want to look at that.."

He grinned as she mentioned her sworn sword and her dragon. She was right. What would she need a horse for when she had the most dangerous beast in the realm? "I suppose you are right." He nodded. "Would you like to see some horses, though? I have plenty of fine breeds in my stable, and I would love to take you on a ride through the woods around Winterfell. I imagine you have seen nothing as grand and beautiful as the Godswoods, have you?"

"I have not seen the Godswoods yet, but.." She took a breath. "I am sure that it is beautiful, as you claim it is." She smiled, and looked at the Stark. He was only three-and-ten, and her.. two-and-ten.

When she smiled, his heart skipped a beat. Was it really possible that I had such an effect on the beautiful Targaryen Princess? She was a Targaryen! And from what he had seen of them, most of them were rather cold and aloof. However, Rhaella seemed to be as warm and gentle as the summer.

He smiled widely, and squeezed her hand once more. "It is beautiful. The old trees there are massive, and the roots of the trees are like the fingers of old gods themselves, sprawling below. It is beautiful and peaceful, and I would be honoured to take you there."

"So, take me there." She giggled, placing a hand on his heart. "Take me to the heart of Winterfell. I want to ride a horse with you, it seems like fun."

He blinked in surprise for a moment, but then he nodded and chuckled. "Of course I will, my lady." He squeezed her hand once more. "And I assure you it is a fun ride. There is no animal as majestic and beautiful as a horse. They are swift and they are strong. You shall enjoy it."

He leaned in a bit, whispering in her ear. "Would you want to ride alone?" he asked. "My guards can keep their distance, and we can have…privacy."

Rhaella's heart fluttered, as he leaned in and whispered. "I would love to ride with you, Cregan." She whispered. "It is only fit for us to ride, since.. we are betrothed, after all."

His heart stopped and then raced as she spoke those words. His voice was shaky and his hands trembled as he leaned in and kissed her on her soft lips. She was right, they were promised to each other, and this would be only the first of many things we would do together as husband and wife. "Perhaps it is only fitting," He whispered. "It is only proper."

She blinked, as he let go of her lips. "My… M-my." She stammered, she has never been kissed before, but to be kissed by her betrothed was worth it. "How old are you? I am only two-and-ten!"

He smiled as he leaned back and looked at her. This was her first kiss? For a Targaryen Princess I would have expected there to have been many before me, but perhaps most boys were too scared of her house and her dragons to try. I couldn't blame them.

He considered her question for a moment. "I am three and ten," he admitted. "I am a year older. I hope it is okay?"

"Yes, of course." She stammered. She was still nervous, as Cregan had just kissed her not too long ago. "I.. I am still in shock—. Cregan.. You have just—. You have just kissed me, my Lord!"

He laughed a bit as she stuttered out her words. This was certainly an odd situation, but he was enjoying it. He squeezed her hand again and smiled. "This was your first kiss? I am glad that I could be the one to give it." He leaned in once more and kissed her again, much to his delight. "Does this one shock you as much, my lady? Or is it something you are starting to enjoy?"

Rhaella gasped, as he kissed her once more. "My L—Lord.." She gasped, as she touched her lips. "You just kissed me!" She stammered. She was getting to enjoy the kisses, but that was unexpected.

He smiled, and squeezed her hand. "Indeed I did, Rhaella. And you enjoyed it, didn't you? I am starting to enjoy giving them, as well." He leaned down to her again, and whispered in her ear. "Do you want me to kiss you again?"

She began to stutter, and looked at him. "My.. My L–Lord.." She stuttered. She was nervous, and began to fidget the coat that she had on. "You.." He laughed as she stuttered. It was obvious that she was nervous, but the laughter was not in response to that. A beautiful Targaryen Princess stammering? It was such a foreign and yet so adorable sight that he could not help but laugh.

"What is it?" He asked her with a smile. "Are you too nervous?" he squeezed her hand, hoping to calm her down. "It is okay if so. You do not have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable, my lady. And yet…" He leaned in once more, whispering in her ear. "May I kiss you one more time?"

She bit her lip, and looked away from Cregan for a moment. She needed to breathe, and she needed it. She thought of it, for a moment. If she were to kiss him, it would seal the marriage alliance. After a moment, she walked forward and kissed him. Both her cold and soft hands on his face.

He was not expecting her to be the one to initiate the kiss this time, and he could feel myself start to blush. Once her lips met his, his confidence returned, and he grabbed her around the waist before pulling her closer to him and kissing her back. He closed my eyes, and let himself get caught up in the moment, before eventually pulling away and breathlessly whispering in her ear. "Is this what you wanted? Does this make you happy, my lady?"

"Very–." She giggled and smiled. Cregan's big hands were placed on her waist, and it covered a big portion of her waist. "Now.. Can we ride?"

He smiled and gently stroked her silver hair as she spoke. "If you wish, my lady. We can ride all you like." He laughed as he spoke, and smiled down at her. "We can ride through the Godswood, or ride around on my horse, or you can fly on your dragon." He laughed again. "How would you like to ride?"

"Ride around on your horse, it sounds like a brilliant idea, my Lord." She smiled, as he laughed. He smiled as I squeezed her hand one more time. "Then let us go to the stables, my dear. I promise you that my horse is a fine animal indeed. If you enjoy riding, I think it may even be better than riding a dragon." He laughed, and winked at her as he said it.

With that, he began to lead Rhaella to the stables, where he had an especially fine horse, who would be perfect for a Targaryen Princess.

[kitkatpadywaks]

Life & Death

Part 6 of La Mechancete De La Vie.

Warnings: Life Finally Talks To Death. Dream Is Nearly An Entirely Silent Observer. Life Finally Says Why She Is The Way She Is. It Makes Death Realise Some Things, But It Doesn't Matter. Life Leaves Her With An Ominous Warning. Dream Confront Her About It. Life Gets A Bit Sappy Because Dream Sees Her.

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Life and Death finally talk! I've been impatiently waiting to write this chapter as I've had their conversation planned since the day I came up with this series. Hope you enjoy it!

Previous | Masterlist | Next

The two beings materialise in the mortal world under a willow tree, Dream stumbling slightly, staying upright only because of Life, whose way of travelling is quite different to his own. 

"Shall I speak in this encounter, or would you prefer I remain a quiet observer?"

"You can if you want or should you feel the need to."

Dream nods, their intertwined hands swing between them as they walk through the poppy field, where Death waits in the middle, glaring at Life.

"Hello, Death." Life stops walking when she sees Death tense at her proximity, only relaxing when she sees Life won't be getting closer.

"Life." Death keeps her voice emotionless, "Why is my brother here?"

Life smiles at Death, making her more unnerved than she already is, "We need to talk, there are some things he needs to hear, and I rather not repeat myself- you know I despise to do so."

"What's there to talk about? You murdered people."

"Oh, everyone loves to bring that up." Life laughs, Dream squeezing her hand in warning, "I am incapable of ending someone's existence 'before their time'."

Death scoffs, "Even if that's true. Who are you to decide that?"

Life takes a deep breath, quelling her temper, "I am the only one with the knowledge, capability and power to decide that. I have always, always been the one to make those decisions."

"You still killed innocent people, Life!"

"Innocent!?" Life scoffs, "They were going to watch an actually innocent woman burn! Do you know how many they had already watched die!? How many more they'd watch!? And that's just the village people!"

Death flinches at the volume of Life's voice, her body tensing when she feels Life rein in a burst of power, but not before the poppies surrounding them double in height and size.

"Do you know how many people lived because those Witchhunters are dead? All the women and children that got to live."

"I can't deny humans can be horrible. But we don't interfere, ever. We let humans go about their lives as they see fit, even when it's hard to watch. You may be the only one with the power, but it shouldn't mean you decide."

"Then who should?" Dream interrupts, feeling awkward from watching the 'friends' fight.

Death stares at her brother in silence, making Life laugh.

"So much to say, and yet you have no answers." Life mocks, making Death glare at her.

"I only know it shouldn't be you."

"Don't be mad just cause you can no longer dictate my existence." Life snaps, clenching her jaw and staring into the distance to stop herself from losing her temper as a thought dawns on her, "It pisses me off it took me so long to realise; we were never friends. You didn't care about me- you only cared about controlling me."

"That's not true..." Death starts.

Life scoffs, knowing Death truly believes it- if only she could see what Life sees, "Do you know what my entire existence has been, why I exist?"

"Life, I don't..." Death shakes her head, exasperated.

"To be used, to fuel the visions of others. I didn't exist to have anything for myself. I don't have a realm. I don't have my own creations. I'm not allowed, friends or love." Life's voice cracks. "I can't have anything. Because what? It shows favouritism. We can't have anyone's realm or existence thrive more than others. Like I can't control my own power!? Do you think me so incapable of controlling myself!? I have done nothing but control myself for as long as I have existed!"

"Life..." Death whispers, surprised at the tears falling down Life's face. She had never thought about it like that, but she supposed that was the point- she'd never thought about it.

Life inhales a shuddering breath, turning her head to look at the surrounding poppies to calm herself, to stop showing what she perceived as weakness, something she didn't want Death to see. "Who are you to decide what I can and can't have? Who are you to decide that I should be completely and utterly alone?"

Dream squeezes Life's hand and turns his head to stare his sister dead in the eye, waiting for her to say something.

"I'm sorry. I really am. But I don't believe it gives you the right to take lives as you have."

Dream can't help but look at his sister with disappointment, wanting more than anything for his favourite sibling to make up with the woman he loves. But he can see now- there is too much history, bad blood, and pain for that to happen.

"Your belief doesn't negate the truth." Life uses her free hand to wipe the tears from her face, her body aching from her emotions. "No one in existence can replace me, do the things I do- the way I do."

"We'll see."

Life rolls her eyes, squeezing Dream's hand to ground herself, "No, we won't. You know, I really wanted us to be friends. But I can see that's not possible. You will never understand me or my true purpose."

Death raises her eyebrow, feeling Life's powers swelling, and she snaps before she can even think, "What's your plan, Life?! You can't kill me, Destiny or The Kindly Ones. Everyone says you're going to get your revenge. But you can't touch us. You didn't even kill The Gods. And they're nothing to you."

"Oh. I have a plan." Life smirks at Death, purely to make her squirm on the spot when she sees the same look in her eye she had just before they locked her in her prison, "Janus will get what's coming to him, as will anyone else who tries to move against me. And as for you, Destiny and the Kindly Ones. Well, you'll have to wait and see."

Death frowns at Life and then at Dream, who watches Life with admiration and adoration she hasn't seen him feel for a long time. She tries to get Dream to look her in the eye to warn him and to ask him how he thinks a relationship with Life will end and what she'll do to him when it does.

Life tilts her head, "You think so little of me."

Death glares at Life, "Stay out of my head!"

"I wasn't in your head!" Life snaps before taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, "Your thoughts are just incredibly noisy; I'm surprised the whole world couldn't hear them." 

Death rolls her eyes, "So what will you do? Huh? How will you get your revenge? What will you do to my brother when things end badly between you?"

Dream frowns at Death, not liking the implication that their relationship will inevitably end. He knows he hasn't always been the best at relationships, but that doesn't mean Dream can't eventually get it right like he wants to; with Life.

"If things end badly, I won't do anything..." Life ignores Death's disbelieving scoff, "I have and will never have any desire to harm Dream."

"How do you know that?" Death raises an eyebrow at her, "How do you know your feelings won't change?"

"I know everything, Death."

"You didn't know we were going to imprison you." Death can't help but dig at her, smirking.

"Yeah, well, that was more bad judgement in trusting you than a lapse in my power." Life smirks back at Death, "You won't ever have that advantage again- I can tell you that with certainty."

Death's smirk drops, and she looks away from Life, a sense of dread washing over her, "And your revenge?" She tries to stop her voice from shaking but fails, making Life amused.

"You're wrong- I can touch you. I can kill you if I want."

Dream looks at Life, alarmed, not expecting her to even think of crossing that line.

"But I won't. I won't do anything to you, Destiny or the Kindly Ones." She gives Dream a quick smile, "Except make you watch me spend the rest of my existence in happiness, free of you. And there will come a time, in the not-so-far future, when I will make you mad beyond imagination, but ultimately, you will thank me for it. Goodbye, Death. I truly hope you find peace in your existence."

Life tugs on Dream's hand, signalling she wants to leave. Dream nods at Death, following Life as she walks away from the confused Death.

They walk until they reach the willow tree they originally arrived under, and Life stops to look up at the tree as sunlight filters through the leaves, taking in a deep breath of fresh air.

I've missed this. Life thinks, closing her eyes.

"What did you mean?" Dream asks, the corner of his lips turning up when she hums in question, too busy enjoying the sun to speak, "When you said you would make her mad, but she would thank you?"

Life opens her eyes and looks at Dream, her spare hand lifting to move the strands of hair from his forehead. She smiles at him when he gently grabs it and presses his lips to the back of her hand. "You'll see."

"You won't tell me?" Dream pulls her close, startling her, his hands moving down to grip her waist.

"I can't. To tell you what happens, this close to this event happening would change things, and I can't see a way for me to intervene like I want to."

"It has to do with me, doesn't it?"

Life reluctantly nods, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "How'd you figure that out?" She says with a teasing grin on her face.

Dream smirks at her, "What else would make my sister mad but my involvement with you?"

Life wishes it was that simple, but she smiles nonetheless. "Fair enough." She pauses, her smile dropping, "I'm truly sorry I have to keep this from you- it's not something I ever want to do."

"I trust you."

Life tears up at that, not realising until that moment how much it would mean to her to be trusted by someone she cares about. "Why?"

Dream pauses, giving himself a moment to collect his thoughts, "When you showed me your powers, I didn't just see what you see. I felt your emotions, your desire to be left alone to do your job without interference, and how little you care for the feuds and trouble. I felt how you want to exist without being perceived so you can finally live without someone wanting to control you. I know all you want is some peace and quiet, so I know you wouldn't do something to anger people unless it's fundamentally important to you."

"I didn't know you could access..." Life shakes her head but continues when she sees Dream's confused look, "I've never let anyone see how my powers work- I didn't know you could see all of that. I didn't know it was possible."

"I thought you could see everything?" Dream can't help but tease her.

Life shrugs, "I've been trying not to access your string, realised it was pretty intrusive, and I don't want to violate your privacy."

"I appreciate that, but like I said- I trust you, so I don't mind you looking into my string."

"Thank you." Life smiles at him and runs her hand through his hair.

Dream leans forward, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before pulling back, "Back to The Dreaming?"

She hesitates, temporarily disconnecting from her consciousness to evaluate how much power she has stored away. Life reemerges to see Dream looking at her with concern, "For a little while. I have enough power now to give Janus what he deserves."

"Will you come back?"

"Yes. After I've talked to the Gods again." 

"You mean threatened them."

Life smirks at Dream, shrugging innocently. "Same difference. Now, are we using my way of transportation or yours?"

"Mine. Definitely mine. I'm never travelling your way ever again." Dream pulls her closer.

Life laughs, thoroughly amused by his resolute tone, as sand surrounds the two beings, echoing across the nearby fields. The crops grow in size, and flowers of all kinds, extinct and not, sprout from the ground as the trees perk up, their broken branches healing from the damage of humans. The two beings disappear from the mortal realm, leaving it a little brighter- Life's happiness making the world so much more alive than it had been in centuries. 

~

Thank you for reading.

[nyxlaufeyson]

(Pandora's Box) Chapter 4- Rainbow Bifrost Ride

Main Masterlist - Pandora's Box Masterlist

A/N: This chapter is relatively short, but it's about to pick up here soon. I'm very excited for the next chapter... 🤩

Also, yes, the title is referencing "Rainbow Rocket Ride" by Sofia Isella. Great song. Go listen. (It doesn't effect the story though, it's just a title reference.)

VOCAB: fífl (FEEF-uhl)- fool, idiot 

The flashing lights of the Bifrost engulfed the trio as they felt the ground disappear beneath their feet.

Instinctively, Pandora reached out and held on to Loki’s arm, attempting to balance herself. After a few seconds of dizzying brightness, she felt the ground materialize underneath her.

She felt someone roughly grab her shoulder as she opened her eyes, and she found several palace guards surrounding her.

Thor shook the guards off of Pandora, shooing them away. “We have this under control, thank you.” He said, and the guards hesitantly backed away to the other side of the dome.

Thor nodded his head to the man holding the sword in the middle, Heimdal, who bowed his head. “The Allfather is waiting in the throne room for you.”

“Thank you.” Thor said as he took one of Pandora’s arms, Loki taking the other to create the illusion that she was a prisoner. Which, in theory, she was.

They silently led Pandora across the rainbow bridge, guards still circling them.

Once they crossed the bridge, they made their way through a separate pathway that eventually led them to the castle, and then into the throne room. The Allfather sat in one of the thrones with the Allmother accompanying him in the other.

“My sons.” Odin greeted, ignoring Pandora for the moment. “Father.” Thor said, Loki silently clenching his jaw, giving no verbal response.

“We can take this from here, you are dismissed.” Odin said, dismissing Loki and Thor. “Actually, Father, me and Loki would like to stay.” Thor said, and Odin tilted his head.

“What Thor is trying to say is that we think it would be a good idea for us to become more familiar with the processing of criminals on Asgard.” Loki saved, and Thor nodded.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Odin replied, and Frigga set a hand on his arm.

“I think that it’s a great idea. It will be better for the future of Asgard.” Frigga told him, and Odin considered it for a moment before he granted the request.

“Very well then.” Odin sighed, turning his focus over to Pandora, narrowing his eyes. “So, Pandora, what were you doing in Midgard? What were your plans?”

Pandora let out a bitter laugh, not saying a word, angering Odin.

“What do you find so funny, woman? Do you believe yourself to be above the realms? You are dangerous, and the last place you belong is on Midgard.” Odin said, and Pandora rolled her eyes.

“You are the one who banished me from both Asgard and Vanahiem. What does it matter what I do elsewhere? I haven’t done anything to potentially harm any of the realms.” Pandora retorted, annoyed.

Odin furrowed his brows, growing impatient. “How did you manage to escape Helheim?”

Pandora ignored him, staying silent.

“Did you have help?”

Again, silence.

“Answer me, fífl!” Odin demanded, stamping his staff on the hard palace floor, causing a couple of the guards to jump.

“I don’t answer to you. I don’t answer to anyone but myself.” Pandora spat, adding fuel to the long-burning fire.

Despite barely coming into contact with Odin before she was banished, she still held the grudge. She hated him for what he had done to her as a child, banishing her out of fright of what a mere child could do.

“Guards, take her to the cells until further notice. The council will discuss this later today.” Odin hissed, clearly pissed off of Pandora’s lack of cooperation.

The guards grabbed Pandora, beginning to lead her away. The brothers shot worried glances over to her, and Loki sent a mindlink to her.

“It will be best if you go with the guards for now. Me and Thor will attend the council meeting, we will confer with you after.” Loki’s voice said into Pandora’s mind, and she met his gaze, nodding to show she had received the message.

Pandora knew that they would have to discuss with the council anyway, and she certainly wouldn’t be allowed there.

The guards led Pandora further away, heading down to the cells.

Loki and Thor turned back to their parents, faking small smiles. “Thank you, Father, Mother, for letting us sit in on this one.” Thor thanked, and Frigga smiled while Odin just nodded.

“May I inquire what makes Pandora so dangerous?” Loki asked, attempting to acquire more information that could potentially help them.

Odin considered Loki’s question for a moment before answering. “Her seiðr was uncontrollable, and she killed a man. That type of magic is dangerous, not to mention she had no control over it.”

“Couldn’t she have learned?” Loki asked, running a hand through his hair as Odin sighed.

“With as powerful and chaotic magic as she had, it would have turned into a disaster. Her first signs of magic were more powerful than other magic users, such as Princess Freya of Vanahiem. We couldn’t take the risk, as she was a child, and children are unpredictable. Now, I will call for you both when the council meets.”

Loki didn’t reply, he just gave a small nod of his head and turned to walk out of the room with Thor.

When they were out of earshot, Thor spoke up. “So, what do we do?” He asked, and Loki rubbed his forehead.

“We wait for the council meeting. Get more intel, and then go from there.” Loki instructed, and Thor nodded, crossing to another hallway to go to his chambers, and Loki went to his. 

A/N: So how we feeling? Enjoying so far? I hope so. I'd love to hear your thoughts :) Comments are always welcome.

ALSO: I announced earlier that I am doing a Pride month special, where I'm going to have different (mostly) marvel Pride-themed fics. Mostly Loki centered as well, but some genfics, and also some LGBTQIA+ ships as well. Just LGBTQIA+ Themed fics for June. POINT: I'm looking for pride-themed suggestions. Comment or inbox. (Regular requests also are still open. I will still update this fic, just trying to do something special for the community.

Taglist (If you want to be added or removed, comment or inbox. If you want to be only tagged for this series/or just oneshots, etc... make sure to let me know. Make sure your tag settings are on.) : @anukulee @mischief-dream

[multifandom-simp-page]

Long Time No See

Pairing: Adult!Atreus x Freya’sChild!fem!reader

Word count: 1.8k

Summary/request: based on this request

I’m so honored to fulfill your first request on tumblr! I’m doing alright and I would be delighted to write this for you! And I appreciate you resending your request when my tumblr broke but luckily I was able to get yours! Anyways I hope you love this!

Also so sorry there’s no GIF, my internet won’t load very well unfortunately.

When Atreus decided that he needed to leave to go find the other giants, the goodbye was bittersweet. You knew it was something he had to do but it didn’t make it any less hard to watch him leave. Especially after he and his father had stumbled into you and your mother's forest, you and the boy had grown close. 

When Atreus decided that he needed to leave to go find the other giants, the goodbye was bittersweet. You knew it was something he had to do but it didn’t make it any less hard to watch him leave. Especially after he and his father had stumbled into you and your mother's forest, you and the boy had grown close. 

You hated to admit it but you bore a childish crush on him, that was up until he and his father had killed your prodigal brother Baldur. You silently thanked the valkyries for Kratos’ interference, Baldur had caused your mother so much grief during your time in Midgard. 

You inadvertently winced as you thought of the rift Baldur’s death had caused between you and your mother. You sighed and stood up out of the garden you tended to. When your mother, Freya had vowed vengeance against Kratos and Atreus she left the woods, to do what you could only imagine being prepping herself to fight a god and his godly child. 

You walked out of the small garden you had been trying to nurse back to life since Fimbulwinter ended a few winters ago, you smiled at Chaurli as he stood and allowed you into the house you’d been living in and trying to repair. 

You grimaced as you stirred the cauldron you remembered Atreus coming to you in a panic after Ragnarok, informing you of the extremely poor state that Chaurli had ended up in. You swear you had almost broke down crying when you heard about it, feeling nothing but guilt for leaving him to try and stop your mother on her revenge path for your brother. 

You huffed and stood, brushing your hands off and cleaning up the small messes you had around the living space. Your mother had dedicated herself to aiding Kratos in his adventures through the realms in his son’s place and when she wasn’t doing that she was in Vanaheim or with her Valkyrie sisters, which means that whenever she came into the woods she was more of a visitor than a fellow occupier as she once had been. 

As you finished up the small chores you felt the ground slightly rattle, signaling that Angrboda and Fenrir were here, after Atreus left you and the giantess had become close, you often visiting her in Jotunnheim and her often visiting you in Midgard. 

You opened the door and smiled to see your favorite giant wolf and giantess walking up the path through your woods, a basket in her arms and a smile on her face. You strode down the path to take the basket from her, smelling the flora of Jotunnheim wafting off her person. 

You gave her a warm smile as Fenrir lent down so you could pet his cold nose. “Hello, Angrboda! You’re looking well since the last we met” You chuckled as she picked some paint off her hand and nodded. 

“Yes, sorry about the delay, Fenrir didn’t want to help me with chores so I had to get Jalla up to help me,” She said and you both laughed, walking toward the door to sit down. Fenrir was good at occupying himself outside while you and the Giantess made conversation in the small home you grew up in.

Once you sat the basket down on one of the many surfaces you hurriedly poured some stew you had roasting over the coals since the day before. Sitting at the table with your friend, eating good food, and talking about whatever came to mind was your favorite pass time in recent days. 

And it was always enjoyable with Angrboda, she often had many good stories about happenings in Jotunnheim in your time apart, whether it was something silly Fenrir did or something she found, or more commonly talking about recent murals she had been working on. 

Before you knew it, hours had passed and the sun began to paint colors of pink and orange across the summer sky and you were saying goodbye to Angrboda and Fenrir. You hugged her tightly, your arms wrapped around her midsection as she squeezed you in return. Over the winter’s she had really sprouted up, now at least a head taller than you.

“Bye Angrboda, I better see you and Fen again before the autumn season you hear me?”  You said sternly as you released her from your vice grip and smiled at her. She laughed sheepishly and shrugged. 

“I’ll try, but sometimes things get busy, and with the whole time difference thing, it's easy to lose track of it” She laughed and smiled at you, and you nodded and smiled back to the giantess. 

“I know, be safe on the way back though okay?” You said and reached out to hug Fenrir’s muzzle. He grumbled as you leaned into his thick wiry fur. When you finally let them go, the warm hues of sunset started morphing into cool blues. You hummed as you walked inside, allowing Chaurli to settle for the night. 

You threw another log onto the fire to keep the coals warm throughout the night and stripped yourself of your day gear, before settling into the summer furs you kept on your bed.

-

The next morning you were awoken by the familiar rumbling of ground that you recognized to be the giant realm walking wolf you’d befriended long ago. You tumbled out of bed and felt Chaurli rousing from his slumber as he lifted your house out of the ground. 

You barely managed to throw a frock on before swinging the door open to find the giant wolf laying in front of your house and a familiar auburn haired boy, well man now, standing next to him, playing with the fur on his face. 

Your body moved before you could even think as you sprinted toward your childhood best friend and tackled him in a bone crushing hug. You both lay in the dirt as your arms remained around his body, squeezing him. 

He managed to laugh and asked you to release him when you did he stood and offered a hand to help you out of the dirt as well. When you finally got a good chance to look at him the wind spirits swept the breath from your lungs. 

Over the time he had been gone, he had grown beautifully. He certainly resembled his father in the way he carried himself and the way his shoulders were broad and intimidating, but he was still the Atreus you’d known all that time ago. The goofy smile on his face, the lighthearted aura that surrounded him, the kind look in his eye- Oh thor you were staring. 

You almost didn’t care that you allowed your eyes to take their take and examine his every detail, the wrinkle in his brow, the scars that were both faded and new. Your grin widened as he pulled you suddenly into another hug.

“Gods I missed you” His voice was almost the same as when he left, just a pitch lower and gravelly, as though he had rarely had anything to drink. Your fingers dug into the layered clothing he wore as you leaned deeply into him, tears burned your eyes as you realized how truly you had missed Atreus. 

You laughed and squeezed him once more before releasing him, allowing your hands to slide down his arms and grip his wrists, not quite knowing if this was real yet. His actions mirrored yours as you stared at each other in silence for another few moments. 

You inhaled deeply as you smiled so hard your temples were starting to ache, “You’re really here!” You softly cheered and he chuckled, giving you a half nod. “The Norns have been kind to you Atreus” You spoke mostly to yourself but he laughed again the tips of his ears turning pink. 

“Hey, that's my line! You’re the one who looks like not a season has passed since I left” he spoke softly and gave you a sincere smile, clearly meaning the sentiment.

You barked in laughter and couldn’t help but look at the dirt beneath your feet, gods you were like a teenager again. Your gaze was brought back to his face when he squeezed your forearm, the smile on his face had you basically melting into a puddle beneath you. 

“How long are you staying?” You couldn’t stop yourself from blurting the words out, you didn’t want to get your hopes up, only for him to be whisked away again in a few moons. 

You saw his jaw tense as he looked beside him where Fenrir had rested his head “I don’t know yet, I got back last night and my father really wants me to stay awhile, but-” He inhaled sharply “But, I hope to at least stay for a few moon cycles” He said and gave you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

You exhaled in slight relief, at least you had a bit of time, you didn’t know if your heart could handle him leaving again so soon. You abruptly hugged him again mumbling “I missed you Atreus” into his tunic and you felt his cheek press into your hair had he spoke a soft “I missed you too little witch”. 

You burst into laughter and lightly shoved him, his dad gave you that nickname after their second visit, and Atreus had soon picked it up after then, despite your very vocal disliking of it. 

“Oh shut up archer boy! You know I hate that nickname!” You huffed in mock displeasure as he chuckled. 

“And you know I hate ‘archer boy’ and yet there you go using it” He teased and you rolled your eyes, but felt a smile creep onto your face as you watched him gesture to himself “And besides I'm an archer MAN now!” He said proudly and you snorted at him, rolling your eyes again, but harder this time. 

“Yeah yeah, sure whatever archer boy. How about you come inside and sit down so you can properly tell me about the exciting adventures you’ve gotten into hm?” You offered and started walking to the ajar door of your home. 

Atreus simply scoffed and followed you inside, giving Chaurli a greeting as he walked down into the small cottage you occupied, leaving Fenrir to his own devices. 

Seeing him sit so domestically in the place you made your home after all this time made your stomach twist with butterflies and almost brought you to tears. You had to look away from him as you made breakfast fixings or you figured you might just cry. 

God’s you really missed him. 

-

This was really fun to write, sorry for the kinda half assed ending, I really wanted to just post it after working on it for what feels like forever. I really hope you enjoyed it, have a wonderful day or night.

[mayfjelds]

Eddie Munson Request!

I a sucker for the opposites attract trope, and I just imagine Eddie with his grunge hard metal self, having a super frilly girlfriend, you know how when high school boys walk around with their girlfriend’s scrunchies on their wrist, kind of a sign of claiming the dude? Imagine Eddie with a frilly pink scrunchy or something! How would he react to it being given to him, or how would hellfire react as well!! Hope you like the request! Can’t wait for you possibly writing this out because I love your writing style, literally counting the hours for you Eddie POV later on today!!

a/n: omg i am so sorry for just now seeing this but in my defense i have worked doubles 2 days in a row and im slowly dying inside! anyways i LUV this rq and thank u thank u thank u for ur kind words it fr means the world. (i acc just finished writing this n i'm alr starting a second part so . kudos to u and ur big brain)

this is fem!reader btw

(part 2)

look, they were trying to pay attention, they really were. it was just kind of hard to focus on hearing eddie’s insane new campaign idea while he had a baby pink scrunchie on his wrist.

it was just so jarring. not because he was a dude wearing a pink scrunchie because god knows none of them – especially eddie munson of all people – care about the rigid cage that is gender roles. it was because it was eddie that was wearing it.

eddie, in all his black skinny jeans, metalhead glory, was willingly choosing to disrupt the cohesion of his style – one they thought to be so carefully curated – for a frily, pink chiffon scrunchie.

i mean, he has long hair. they assumed, silently, of course. (being the friends that mike, dustin, and lucas are, they’ve gained the ability to communicate solely through their shared looks – and morse code, occasionally).

it’s not like he’s above picking up the easiest-to-steal looking thing and stuffing it in his pocket at the store. so it’s not like it means anything, right?

“what the fuck, guys?” the topic of unspoken discussion said, raising his hands in the air. “why’re you acting so weird? i thought you’d piss your pants at this campaign.”

“no, the campaign’s awesome, man.” dustin said.

“totally awesome.” lucas agreed.

“so why are you three acting like someone drew a dick on my face?” eddie asked, then proceeded to pull at his cheeks, accentuating the scrunchie even more. “no one did, right?”

“no, you’re good,” dustin said. “i think we’re just a bit… distracted, that’s all!”

“distracted by your fake girlfriends in idaho?” eddie joked, laughing to himself while the younger boys scowled.

“el lives in california and she’s real.”

“you’ve literally met max – ”

“that’s beside the point!” dustin interrupted. in reality, he would’ve been offended too if last summer hadn’t already desensitized him to the no-one-believing-you-have-a-girlfriend thing. “we were just curious about that thing on your wrist.” he pointed, squaring down at the scrunchie in question.

“this ol’ thing?” eddie pulled on it, snapping it against his wrist. “t’was a gift.”

“from who? the tooth fairy?” erica said, causing her older brother and the band of freshmen to immediately shush her. 

“on the contrary, lady applejack.” he said. “it was a gift from my lover. one from this realm of reality, no less.”

“lover?” lucas asked.

“it means girlfriend, lucas.”

“i know what it fucking means, asshole.”

“why’d you have bring that up?” gareth sighed, “now he’s gonna spend the next thirty minutes gushing – ”

“who’s got the fake girlfriend now, munson?” mike taunted. clearing.

“nah, she’s real,” jeff said. “you guys just never met her ‘cause she graduated when she was supposed to.”

eddie kicked jeff’s leg under the table while the boys gaped.

“you, eddie munson, have a girlfriend –”

“you know i can kick you out of hellfire, right, sinclair?”

“i’m not saying that is unbelievable that you have a girlfriend.” dustin defended. “it’s just, ya’know, i would never imagine you with someone like… that”

“like what?” he challenged. even though it was mostly a façade and he didn’t actually care what three fifteen-year-olds think about his romantic endeavors.

“like, one that gives her boyfriend pink scrunchies!” he said, turning to mike. “i mean, nancy doesn’t even do shit like that. that’s, like, the type of shit that jock’s girlfriends do to mark their territory!”

“well, i hate to break it to ya’ kid, but my girl’s got territory to mark.” eddie smirked, twirling the scrunchie around with his fingers. “you wouldn’t imagine the type of offers i get from girls who want free weed and a di –”

“if you finish that sentence i’m reporting you to the police for child endangerment.” erica said, silencing the entire table in one fell swoop. well, almost all of the table, sans jeff and gareth who were hiding their laughs behind their hands. because unlike the freshman, they knew exactly what kind of sap eddie was. and that was one who would do anything his girlfriend tells him to, from wearing her girly little scrunchie around school to committing arson, probably.

“applejack is right,” eddie said. “this is not a conversation for your innocent little minds. let’s pick up where we left off!”

“wait, i still have questions –”

“ask me when you still don’t have a baby face, henderson.”

“i meant about your girlfriend!” he huffed. “like i’d take any of that kind of information from you.”

“hey, it’s either me or harrington.” he defended, “and from what i heard, you don’t wanna take any from him.”

luckily for him, that imagery got the boys disturbed enough to finish the rest of their session in peace, with them only speaking up when they got distracted enough to forget what they were talking about before. at nine on the dot, eddie called the night, and began packing up, the rest of the club shuffling out one by one. 

“i thought you said she was coming home on sunday?” jeff asked once the freshmen were out of ear shot.

“she came back early.” eddie smiled. “she got on the train right after class and showed up at three in the fuckin’ morning. when i saw her out of my window, i thought i got too high and started hallucinating.”

“that’s awesome, man.” gareth said, patting him on the back. “you should tell her to come to hellfire while she’s back for break.”

“oh, she’s definitely coming,” eddie grinned. “gonna shut those little assholes up for good.”

[dearly-dreaming]

•𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍•

Title: Adoration.

Paring: Dream of the Endless x fem!reader.

Word count: 4739.

Warnings: Mentions of Morpheus’ imprisonment, mentions of sex, no intense description, a tiny tiny sprinkle of angst, childbirth, mostly lots of fluff. (Also I have no knowledge of how weddings are supposed to be done or how childbirth actually is so don't come at me please lmaoooo)

Summary: You fall in love, death makes you immortal, you get married, and now you’re having a baby.

Author’s notes: This was requested by an anon and by @emarich7 so I merged the two. I hope you enjoy this one shot and thanks for requesting it :)

•𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍•

First, you fell in love.

And Morpheus caught you.

It was a fast thing, burning with an intensity that drew you together like thunder and lightning, always meant to be a pair. It consumed your entire body, streamed through your veins, hummed to your heart, and whispered to your soul.

From the first moment you looked at him you were enamoured, the man was crafted from stories. The man that was the charming villain, the misunderstood rouge, the cold king. You were captivated by the hair that wisped like the softest yet deepest darkness, the skin that was so tenderly kissed by the moon, the wonder of his star-lit eyes that gleamed so brightly and the voice that was as smooth as wax and as soothing as dark chocolate.

And he was just as entranced by you.

When Dream of the Endless fell in love, he fell hard, crashing through the air as he plummeted to what he knew he always would, heartbreak. It happened to everyone, the once tame flame of love would become a wildfire, raging and ravenous.

But you were different.

Not once did you shy away from his perhaps too-forward actions and met him head-on with that smile that always seemed to make him freeze in his steps. You gazed at his divine being with wonder but never with fear.

It was fate Morpheus fell completely and utterly in love with you.

And it was no wonder that he couldn't bring himself to ask about you.

Or more specifically, where your grave lay.

After all, you were entirely mortal and after a century's imprisonment, you had surely faded from this world and found your place in his sister's realm.

Morpheus could not bring himself to walk along the path to your grave, see your name carved in stone, read the words loving wife and know you had found someone else.

And yet he was miserable without you.

That left him here.

Dream of the Endless, sitting on a park bench in the middle of the night, staring out into nothingness, desperately trying to recall the precise softness of your skin and the ringing bells of your laugh.

He did not know what to do with himself.

You were the light.

And his universe had gone hopelessly dark without you.

He felt a presence sit beside him - Death, he knew.

"Brother..." She whispered softly, her honey-like voice filling his ears.

"Sister..." He responded slowly, the words dry on his tongue.

He hadn't spoken much recently.

"What are you doing here? What's wrong?" Questioned the woman softly, tight black curls bouncing around her shoulders gently.

Dream clenched his jaw, he never liked baring his soul.

But still, he swallowed harshly and forced out the words that branded him like fire, he welcomed the flame, it reminded him that you once existed, "She's gone."

Death remained silent, hand coming to place itself on Dream's shoulder, silently telling him to continue.

And gods, he continued because the words wouldn't stop spilling, "She's gone. My love. She's gone. And she's taken all of my joy with her. She's taken my heart. She's taken my soul. She's taken everything. No longer does the sun feel warm or the moon knowledgeable. Oh, my love. My Y/n."

"Y/n..." Trailed off his sister.

"My Y/n..." Whispered Morpheus, the shattered remains of his heart squeezing at the memory of you, "My life. My eternity. And now she will remain in your realm until the end of existence. I never even got to say goodbye. To kiss her farewell."

Death's lips quirked up as she let out a snort, "I gave it my best shot, but she wasn't having it. You sure fell for a stubborn one."

Dream's face snapped to look at her's and Death almost stopped breathing. It was only now she could see the tears gathered in her brother's eyes and the tinge of redness from the previous crying.

"...What?" He just managed to croak out, his voice so light it almost shattered.

She smiled softly at her brother, "I came to collect her after an accident but she refused to take my hand. Yelled at me. Said I would be a horrible sister if I took her away from you and that she wouldn't go to my realm until it was your time to go as well. Together or not at all."

Dream couldn't believe it.

He didn't get to be so lucky.

Not after a century's imprisonment, not after Jessamy. Not after being mocked by the painted stars scattered across the ceiling of the basement, he was trapped in, deprived of air confined in a glass that was so close to the sand.

He did not get to have such joy after that.

"Do not mock me, sister," Morphues' voice was as sharp as a shooting star but his eyes quivered, desperate.

Death smiled, "I am not mocking you, brother. Your lady love is still very much alive, she lives in a cottage in the countryside, waiting for you to return to her as she always knew you would."

The silence was almost as suffocating as the glass cage.

"But how...?" Morpheus whispered.

His sister's eyes shimmered, "She's my Hob Gadling. Only instead of meeting once every century we meet every month and have tea."

Dream's chest heaved, "She's immortal?"

Death nodded, "As immortal as we are."

Dream's heart thundered in his chest louder than ever before, emotions flooding across his body like a tidal wave.

You had fought his sister for him.

You had become immortal for him.

You had waited for him.

And he would not make you wait any longer.

"Where?" He rasped, grasping his sister's hand desperately, " Where does she reside?"

Death grinned and swiftly reached into her pocket, pulling out a piece of paper, "Now I know why Destiny demanded I write this. It's Y/n's address."

With careful hands, Morphues cradled the paper, looking at it as if it was the most important piece of creation to ever exist. He shot up, desperation clawing at him. He needed to see you now. Press your body against his. Feel your soul connect with his.

"Thank you, my sister," He breathed lightly.

Death smiled at her little brother, "Tell her I said hello and that I'll see her in a week."

Dream nodded.

Sand swept around him hastily, just as focused on seeing the Dreaming's lady once again.

Within seconds Dream was gone.

And he was heading towards you.

It was one of those nights when you couldn't sleep.

Before they were just times when sleep would not come to you and they were filled with Morpheus. At first, he would appear in your home, straight out of wonder and dark brilliance, and sit beside you as you talked the night away.

Sometimes his stories swept you into bliss.

Then talking got disrupted by longing glances and lingering touches. Soon enough it turned to kisses so passionate they could only belong in fairy tales. You still remembered the sweet taste of his lips, the way they were as soft as silk, the deep rumble of his hums as one of his hands clutched your neck while the other grasped your waist.

Now there was no Morpheus.

You sat on your chair, staring at the night sky that shimmered with stars - so akin to the gleam in his eyes. You'd stay in that chair until the sun rose and burned your vision with hues of red and golden.

You sighed and nestled closer into the coat you wore.

His coat.

It was not often that you parted with it. You could not bring yourself to. That coat, as black s the wisps of darkness that made his hair, brought you comfort in the worst of times when you feared he had left you and that you would never see him again.

Somehow, even after a century, the fabric still smelled faintly of him. The salty sea spray of a storm, the world after rain, wisps of dusk - the smell of Morpheus.

Your lips parted.

Even if Morpheus could not hear you, you still liked to speak to him, despite the sharp silence that was the only answer.

"I took a walk this morning, along the river. The world was so pretty, still bathed in the glow of sunrise. It was peaceful, only the wisps of wind and the chirps of birds spoke to me. It wasn't nearly as beautiful as Fiddler's Green but I think you would've liked it," You murmured so lightly it was as if you feared to disturb the world around you.

You expected silence.

But silence did not answer.

"Then, perhaps, you shall have to take me on a walk along the river," A voice whispered.

No. Not a voice.

His voice.

Morpheus.

Tears sprung to your eyes as you shot up from the chair, spinning so fast that you almost tripped with dizziness.

And there he was.

As beautiful as the last day you saw him, features lit aglow by the moonlight that only made him all the more ethereal. Dark eyes shimmered with the wonder of the universe and the wight of unparalleled empathy. Star-kissed skin glittered smoothly, stark against the black wispiness of his coat. Dark, unruly hair swept across his forehead, weaving through the air like the brush of a raven's feather.

Your breath caught.

Your chest thundered.

The universe could not be so cruel to you now. It could not let you see Morpheus now, as perfect in his beauty as always. Fate was not far nor what anyone would consider kind, you could not be so lucky to see Morpheus again.

You don't know how long you stood there.

Neither did he.

Finally, a single word managed to leave your lips, "Morpheus."

And suddenly the stalemate was over.

Morphues rushed towards you like a flurry of sand, desperation cawing at his throat more and more the closer he got to you. And then he was there. Standing right in front of you, callous hands clutching onto your skin as if you were something his mind hand made to allow him to forget his torment.

He shivered.

He remembered just how many times he had imagined you in his imprisonment, the only safety he had.

The feeling of your skin knocked the breath out of his lungs as he shuddered, all but collapsing against you. Your gasp ignited emotions deep within him.

Together, hands grasping one another so tightly you could leave bruises, you sunk to the floor. Morpheus' hands clutched your waist, your neck, every inch of you he could reach. He was a starved man - a grave one - and it was you that brought him back to life.

He would never be parted from you again.

You let out a cry, hands clutching his back so tightly you feared you might break him. Morpheus was much more fragile than you remembered - something terrible must have happened to him and it only made you cry more.

Then, you felt his tears - hot and burning - fall against the crook of your neck as Morpheus let out the most feeble of whimpers. He may have rebuilt the Dreaming but it was not home without you.

And now, with you held so tightly in his arms flesh and blood, he knew he was finally home.

"My Morpheus," You whispered, pressing gentle kisses to his soft skin, his silky hair, to every part of him you could reach.

Morpheus' chest heaved with tears unshed for a century, "My Y/n..."

Neither of you said anything after that, you didn't need to. All that mattered was that you were in each other's arms once more. Nestled into one another's souls, rooted in one another's hearts, just as you were always meant to be.

You lay there the whole night, bodies intertwined so closely it was almost impossible to imagine you'd ever been apart. And yet to anyone who looked close enough, it was clear that this was the embrace of lovers who had been separated but whose love still blazed with all the brightness in the universe.

The poets of the world would tell you that love was the most powerful force on Earth, relentless and wonderous. Those poets, despite being human, were Morpheus' creatures, the people who were inspired by whispered dreams and strove to change the world.

You and Morpheus were together again.

And you would never part.

"I don't think I've ever seen you this emotional about anything," Hob chuckled, smiling at his oldest and best friend.

Morpheus shot him a withering look, straightening out the refines of his suit, callous hands swift and shaky. It was terribly unusual to see Dream of the Endless so nervous, not even during his imprisonment did he show such vivid emotions.

Why was the King of Dreams and Nightmares so nervous you might ask?

Because he was getting married to the love of his life.

You.

And he was terrified everything would go wrong. He knew what it was like to love him, the burning intensity, the searing fall. He loved you more than the universe - he was desperate to stay by your side for all eternity, he couldn't bare to be parted from you.

"He's right, boss," Mervyn hummed, "Everything will be fine."

Dream was about to respond but then the music began to play.

He froze.

Saints, he was about to see you in your wedding dress. He was about to place a ring on your finer. He was about to call you his wife.

Everyone turned their attention to the entrance and breathed in response.

Calliope came first, draped in a teal blue the colour of the ocean, hair pined up delicately. She strode across the aisle, smiling brightly as the subjects of the Dreaming stared in amazement.

Her eyes glittered with fondness the closer she got, finally coming to an elegant halt opposite the best man - Hob, of course.

She grinned slyly, "You are a very lucky man, Oneiros"

Morpheus allowed a smile, "I know."

Next, Lucienne stepped onto the aisle and Drea had never seen his librarian look so beautiful. A deep blue was against her skin, making her glow. Unlike Calliope, however, she wore a pantsuit, smooth against her skin, regal and outlandish but still entirely Lucienne. She grinned brightly as she came to a stop by Calliope.

"You look beautiful, Luci," Mervyn spoke, voice cracking slightly.

Lucienne smiled bashfully, "Thank you, Vyn."

Dream caught the gazes of Hob and Calliope and the three shared a look, weddings were good places for sparks to fly were they not?

And then, his sister appeared. Death of the Endless, radiant as all life was. Her dress was the colour of sapphires, deep and rich a perfect contrast to her golden-brown skin. She strode confidently, happily and oh so giddily as she grinned with enou8gh brightness to create a universe.

Her eyes shimmered as she stared at her brother, "You might want to hold him, Hob. I think he'll collapse."

Hob snorted quietly, "Of course, it's my duty as the best man, after all."

Morpheus sighed, ever since Hob and Death had officially met chaos had occurred, "And I trust, as the Maid of Honour, you made sure everything is right with Y/n."

"You'll find out for yourself," Death grinned.

And, by God, Dream certainly did.

You had no one walk you down the aisle but Matthew sat on your shoulder, shimmering rings dangling from the two ribbons tied around his neck.

Morpheus almost crashed to his knees.

You were ethereal.

The Sun.

The Moon.

The Stars.

You were everything to him.

Your dress flowed around your body like the gentle wisping of winds against your cheeks, it weaved around the curves of you, perfect and oh-so enchanting, you looked like the universe. Your hair was styled as if the spirits of magic had come together, you were the most beautiful creature in creation.

Morpheus was completely and utterly in love with you.

His soul burned in a way it never had before, sung symphonies so sweet even the stars swooned. Morpheus was yours, entirely without hesitation.

And he was going to marry you.

You grew closer, as graceful as the sunrise.

His breath caught.

His heart thundered.

His hands shook.

And now you were in front of him.

Morpheus restrained himself with all of his strength, his entire body begged for you to be in his caring embrace. Every part of him wanted to sweep you away and keep you all t himself in your shared chambers.

And you wanted to do just the same.

God, Morpheus looked absolutely wonderous. A man crafted from the sweetness of dawn, from the depths of peace, the echos of poetry. His hair was still unruly, like ripples of midnight water just as you loved it. His alabaster skin was as dainty as snow and as divine as stormy clouds rumbling over the distance with the promise of glistening rain. And his eyes. Swirling tempests of enchanting infinities, shimmering with the murmur of blissful stories, swimming galaxies consumed with joyous stars. His lips were as rolling hills, as pointed as mountains and as beautiful as whispered songs.

He ignited every inch of your soul.

And he was about to be your husband.

Fiddler's Green - or Gilbert as he liked to be called when in his human form - spoke softly, like the brush of a butterfly's wing, "Today, my friends, we are gathered to witness the unification of Dream of the Endless and Y/n L/n. A pair we all know was meant to be from the creation of creation.

Smiles spread across everyone's faces, there was no set of words that could ring more true than those.

"Now, despite how much time I have spent in the Waking World I have not truly had the chance to study weddings, so I'm not entirely sure about what to say," Chuckles filled the air, "So I shall let out bride and groom say their own vows."

Your hands shook, You go first-" You paused, "Wait no - I'll end up crying."

Even more laughter filled the air, along with some tears.

You gently untied Morpheus' ring from Matthew's neck, your groom doing the same.

"As you wish, my love," Hummed Morpheus, his words ringing in your ears like delightful songs.

You smiled shakily as you took a breath, letting the words fly from your mouth like a poet inspired in a way never before, "My Morpheus. You are my story. You are the reason I strive to turn each page of the book that's my life. You are the reason I live every word written, to be entranced by your beauty, your wonder, your affection. My love for you can never be described with words - it is far too great. But I can tell you this..."

You swallowed, reaching for his hands.

He gave them to you, clutching you as if you were the first snowflake of winter.

The words fell from your lips like heaven, "I can't wait to live the chapters of our eternity with you."

And you slipped the glimmering ring onto his finger.

No one, not a single person would mention the way Morpheus' eyes gleamed.

And no one would mention how a tear slipped from his eye, listening as it traced his cheek.

You took a shuddering breath as he lowly whispered, "I thought you said you were going to be the one to cry."

You giggled softly, "I might still cry, you haven't said your vows yet."

"I will do so now," He murmured, eyes glistening as he took a breath, "My Y/n. I could compare you to the Sun, the Moon, and the Stars but I know they will never hold the slightest light to your existence. You are the one who holds my soul, the one that keeps it safe, protected and loved. You are the one who stole my heart before I could even ask your name and I have never wanted you to give it back to me."

His eyes fluttered closed, hands shaking in yours.

His eyes burned with intensity, voice shaking, "Even in the darkest times, there was hope. That hope was you. That hope will always be you, Y/n."

And the cold band of the golden ring was slipped onto your finger, suddenly you could not imagine your hand without it.

You let out a cry, lip quivering as your soul swelled with love. Your sweet, wonderful Morpheus. There was no one else that could make you feel this way and you never wanted there to be.

"I told you I'd cry!" You laughed at the crowd filled with your friends.

"Why do you think I didn't put any makeup on you!" Death teased causing Calliope to snort quietly.

Morpheus smiled, "Gilbert, would you please continue? I fear I may run out of patience, I just want to call Y/n my wife and kiss her."

You snickered, "I was just about to say the same thing."

Gilbert chuckled, "Soulmates at their finest," He straightened his back, "My lord, my lady, with the power invested in me, the Fates, the Endless, and, of course, the universe, I proudly pronounce you husband and wife-"

Morpheus didn't wait. He couldn't.

He darted toward you like a shooting star and pressed his pomegranate lips to yours. You let out a gasp, flinging your arms around his shoulders as one of his hands clutched your waist while the other grasped your neck.

Everything was perfect. The universe had aligned to watch your marriage.

Your husband Morpheus.

Your heart flew at the thought. He was yours, completely and entirely, just as you were his. Nothing else mattered.

You and Morpheus were married.

You couldn't believe it.

You had only been married for three months.

But those three months had been incredibly passionate.

The intense touches, the bare skin pressed together, the gasps, the raw pleasure, the all-consuming love imprinted in your mind. And your body. Your body was covered in red marks, hips lightly bruised and kissed. You flushed. You remembered the nights under the moonlight, Morpheus above you, below you, between you. The way he caressed your skin, the way he ravished you so deeply and relentlessly.

It was absolutely enamouring. Even now your skin burned, your body wishing for Morpheus to be beside you.

Especially now.

You stood in front of your mirror, staring at the small test in your hands - thank god for modern inventions - as two bright pink lines appeared.

You let out a small cry.

You were pregnant. With Morpheus' child. Your heart wept with joy, you were going to have a child, a child you had already begun to love. You fell to your knees as you cried softly, your hand coming to place itself on your stomach.

The world seemed quiet now, just you and your baby. You wanted Morpheus, your husband, beside you and yet you could not find it in yourself to move.

Thankfully, you didn't have to.

Lucienne slowly opened the door, "Forgive me, my lady, but I knocked three times-" She froze at the sight of your tears, "What's wrong?"

You croaked and handed her the test.

She gasped, hand flying to her mouth as her eyes brightened with wonder. She wrapped an arm around your shoulders, "Oh, Y/n, that's wonderful! I assume you just discovered this?"

You took in a shuddering breath and nodded.

"Do you wish for me to get Lord Morpheus?" Lucienne questioned softly.

"Please," you whispered.

Lucienne clutched your hand as she rose, "Congratulations."

And off she went to get Morpheus. No. Perhaps went isn't the correct word for the Dreaming's Librarian sprinted toward the throne room where her king sat begrudgingly doing work.

She burst into the throne room and just managed to utter three words, "Go to Y/n."

Morpheus feared the worst.

He snapped into your chambers within seconds, terror clawing at his heart. And then he saw you, curled up on the floor, tears streaking down your cheeks as you clutched your stomach.

He shot towards you, collapsing onto his knees as his frantic hands grasped your face, "My love? What is it? What's wrong? Has someone harmed you? Upset you? Tell me and I shall fix it."

"Morpheus," You slowly lifted your hands to his, intertwining them, "There is nothing you need to fix. Nothing at all."

"Then why do you cry?" He whispered, nose brushing against yours.

You didn't answer with words, guiding his hands to your stomach and placing them there. You waited in suspense as he furrowed his brows in confusion. You pressed his hands closer, willing him to understand.

The sun streaked against his features as he spoke, "I do not understand-"

Shock swept across him, his mouth falling open as his gaze transfixed on you.

The words almost couldn't leave his mouth, "Are you-?"

"Yes," You gasped.

You couldn't even begin to guess his reaction.

Then, a laugh spilt from his lips, his eyes beginning to fill with tears as he pressed closer to you, voice so light you could almost mistake it for air, "You're pregnant."

"Yes," You smiled through another round of tears.

Morpheus couldn't believe it.

He was a father again.

"You're pregnant," He whispered, forehead falling against yours, "With our child. Thank you for making me a father again."

You nodded, a giggle falling from your lips, "Our child."

As you two sat together, curled so tightly, the sun shone with the promise of a new beginning.

Your and Morpheus were with child.

A scream tore from your mouth as your chest heaved, hand clutching Morphues' tightly.

Nine months had passed quickly and now you were in labour. Morpheus by your side as he would be for the rest of eternity. Sweat was thick on your body as you flung your head into the pillows, shallow gasps flying from your lips heavily.

Maria, a dream made for expecting mothers smiled at you, "I can see the baby's head. Just one big push, my lady."

You shook her head, a cry escaping your lips, "I can't."

"Yes, you can," Morpheus told you softly, eyes shimmering with complete belief, he pressed his forehead against yours, voice as soft as a lullaby, "You can do anything."

"No, I can't," You wailed.

He hushed you softly, grasping your cheek with his spare hand, "Do not doubt yourself. You're the woman who refused to take Death's hand. The woman who waited a century. The woman who is Queen of the Dreaming. The woman who has not only my heart but our child's as well. You can do anything."

You squeezed his hand tighter and nodded.

Maria nodded encouragingly at you, warm eyes confident, "Push!"

You shrieked.

You clenched your eyes shut.

Your entire body shook with pain.

And your cries were met with another.

"There you go!" Maria gasped, "You did it, my lady!"

Morpheus smiled so brightly you could almost mistake it for the universe, "You did excellent, my love."

Maria's heart warmed at the sight of you two holding each other close as she swiftly completed her job and wrapped the small bundle of life in a blanket.

She moved towards you, "My lady, my lord, meet your healthy daughter."

You let out a whimper, hands desperate to hold your child, to cradle her in your arms.

The king let out a breath, "Daughter?"

"Yes, your majesty. Your child is a girl," Maria spoke as she dipped her head, "I'll leave you three alone."

You felt another round of tears spring to your eyes as you held your daughter in your arms, an overwhelming sense of adoration and love consuming you. Your daughter, your sweet, perfect daughter.

Morpheus sat on the bed beside you, wrapping one arm around your shoulder as the other gently stroked your daughter's cheek. Tears fell from his eyes as his breath shuddered.

"My love?" You whispered.

"She's perfect. Completely perfect," He murmured, kissing your forehead, unbothered by the sweat.

Her cries were soon lulled by the comfort of you, her parents. A contented look passed over her small features as her eyes fluttered open.

A gasp fell from your lips.

Your daughter had stars in her eyes.

"Just like her father," You mused quietly, staring in wonder at the child that somehow came from you.

Morpheus chuckled lightly, "I don't know about that. She has your brilliance. It's almost like she's just seen a supernova for the first time."

An idea sparked in your head, "Nova..."

A grin spread across your husband's face, "Nova. Our daughter. Princess of the Dreaming. A wondrous name for our sweet wonder."

And indeed it was.

Your little family was absolutely wondrous.

Tags:

@fate-huntress @layla2-49 @asianfrustration13 @true-queen-of-mischief @mxtokko @notabotiswear @marion7s-blog @winxchesters @beautifulbows924 @sidneysdreamland @boofy1998 @thecrazytealady @kisses4kitty @we-love-our-bandz @kittycatcait219 @crimsonabbath @violet-19999 @dreaming-about-fanfictions @silverhart13 @dilf-of-the-endless @tea-effect @bakerstreethound @popcornceilings69 @blu3what @angelphishy @ultimateissuessimp @aliisa-jones

[plush-rabbit]

Aphrodisiac Induced Angel and Sorcerer

Word Count: 1K Each

A/N: i have nothing to say except that grass can’t fix my thristing. i also like to think that solomon would be a complete mess if given the chance to be with mc in an intimate way

-

Intro:

The angel can’t help but bounce in his steps as he walks up the steps of the House of Lamentation. You invited him over for help on a project. Simeon would be lying if he said that he didn’t feel a twinge of pride at you coming to him for help. Surely, you could have gone to the brothers or anyone else, but you chose him. He smiles at the thought, grabbing the handle of the front door and letting himself in. The cold air of the house stings against his skin, warm from his own internal heat but also from the walk. Perhaps, if he’s lucky, he’ll be able to spend time afterwards with you where studying won’t be the thing that keeps you two together but rather you wanting him to be there. For now, the time that he has with you will remain uninterrupted and while that may not last long, he only pleads with himself that perhaps you’ll become distracted and in turn you’ll lose focus and beg for him to pay attention to you, textbooks forgotten and only the sound of your laughter filling his ears.

It’s wishful thinking, thinking that has his face burn in fear that somehow Father is listening to his every thought and watching him with unblinking and judgemental eyes. His breath catches in his throat, suffocating him and he has to remind himself, mumbling under his breath that as long as he’s in Devildom, he remains unseen. He walks into the kitchen, opting to calm himself before he accompanies you- he doesn’t want the time that he spends with you to be sullied by something frivolous as thinking. At the kitchen table sits a plate of baked goods, a lovely handwritten note creeping from under it, warning the reader to not eat any of the treats.

The time that he spends in Devildom must be corrupting him. He’s sure of it. His glove is dotted with crumbs, his eyes glancing towards the entryway grateful that no one is there to watch as he takes a bite out of something that he was warned not to. It’s not as if there should be much harm to it, there were plenty on the plate and there still are. The treat melts in his mouth, burning his tongue and making his eyes water. It burns him and he takes more, scarfing down the treat and leaning over the counter, his eyes wide and body now aflame. It tastes so familiar, the way that the treat melts in his mouth and weighs heavy on his tongue, so sweet that it must be a crime.

His chest is tight, his hand scratching down the counter and his head grows foggy. Simeon walks towards you, knocking gingerly at the door, his chest still and lungs burning with the desire to breathe- to breathe in something, anything, your own scent, something so intoxicating that it fills his lungs with the sweet relief of air. Looking at you, he wonders if this is what it feels like to be human, to want and have your own body constrict around itself despite knowing its sin.

Simeon:

Simeon doesn’t know why he goes to you. He’s aware of what’s happening to him- the burning desire deep in him, the way that the thought of you makes his heart beat against his chest in a way that makes him scared it’ll actually rupture past his ribs and spill his blood on the floor beneath him. He can hear you come to the door, the shadow under the small space and the twisting of the knob. His breath hitches in his throat when he looks at you, his mind swirling with thoughts of you- wanting to hold you, wanting to kiss you, wanting to pin you against your bed and kiss your neck. You call his name and he collapses into your arms, his hands grasping fitsfuls of your shirt in his hand. His breath is ragged, heavy and puffing against your bare neck and you stumble when he walks forward, out of the way from the doorframe, far enough to kick the door close. He isn’t sure what he is doing, but he knows that when he’s beside you, he’s breathing in your scent and that only makes him want to pull you closer.

You’re the only thought he has in his mind- the only one that he is able to make sense of. He leans against you, his eyes closing and his grip on you tightening. He whispers an apology, his breath warm against the shell of your ear, his voice sweet as he lets his lips graze against your earlobe and rest on your neck. His apologies are slurred, his weight leaning against you as he clings to you tightly. He confesses that he had eaten something he shouldn’t have and now he stands in your arms with a cock that throbs in the confines of his pants. He flinches at your touch, burying his head into the crook of your neck, whining when your hand parts through his hair and your fingertips lay at the base of his neck. If he had known what the effects of the sweet would have been he would have never taken it, he promises with a shaky breath.

It’s hard to think when you’re so close to him. His mind is foggy and the only thing he can think about is how sweet you smell, how earthly and the scent of your cream faint against his nose. He’s desperate, gingerly pressing himself close to your thigh only to flinch when he makes contact. Your heart beats, pulsing against his lips and he wonders what you’d taste like, how you’d feel under his lips and before he’s even able to think about that, he starts to cry, clinging close to you with tears that glisten down the curve of his face. His eyes are brimmed with tears, begging for you to take care of him. The pulsing is too much, he can’t think and the only thing that can even come close to a thought is you. He falls to his knees, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you close to him, his face pressed against your plump stomach. He begs for your forgiveness- his straight up perversion as he cries against you, unable to take the growing ache in his pants.

Sin starts to overtake him, pulling him close and leading him to the bed where he lies above your comforter, his hands covering his face and his legs shaking. He can already feel semen leak past his briefs and stain the inside of his pants from just the simple guidance to your bed. Despite the sin that he commits, you treat him with kindness, cupping his face and shushing him when his sob catches in his throat. Your hands flutter to his thighs, squeezing the muscle and he can hear your breathless laugh when he jerks in response. He begs for no more teasing, he doesn’t think he can handle it when he’s already in such a vulnerable position. As pitiful as it is, he lets out a whine when you unzip his pants but you don’t laugh and through the gaps between his fingers, he can see you smile softly down at him. You pet his cock between the briefs, his breath catching is his throat as he watches you toy with the outline of his cock. More semen leaks, staining his briefs in a darker color.

His breath is still sweet, his heart beating against his chest and his eyes filled with tears, as he shuts his eyes when his cock meets the cool air of your room. Your hand wraps around his cock, and arches his back into your loose fist. His bulging base is firm as it throbs in your hand, small ripples that form underneath your palm as you give a tentative squeeze. The angel beside you is adorned with a flushed face, his eyes shining with unshed tears and your name on his lips. Your hands leave his cock and he shakes his head, muttering “no” under his breath. He’s already felt you and he’s so drunk off of love and want, that he can’t bear for you to move away from him. Not when you’re so close. You pull him upwards, letting him rest beside you, your body close to his as your hand wraps around his cock, lazily pumping him. He hides his face, panting and thrusting his hips in a sloppy fashion to meet your hand. Simeon is under the light of your room, the pale orange glow and the stars that peek between your curtain, his cock twitching and spilling in a pearly white onto your hand that cradles him gently. There’s a building pressure in his stomach, one that makes him eager to kiss you and touch you despite everything in him screaming that this action is already too far. As if you could read his distressed thoughts, your hand flutters to his face, lifting him upwards to kiss at the corner of his lips. His tongue lolls out, gasping for breath and your thumb runs over his ridges. Your name is repeated, sullied by the angel’s lustful nature as he spills his seed in your hands, and he reaches out, leaning forward to capture your lips in a kiss that only makes his leg shake in ecstasy.

Intro:

Solomon walks into the House of Lamentation, taking great glee that everyone else happens to be busy with some task that pertains to their specific realm. While he, however, gets to indulge in some quality alone time with you. He walks into the house, his smile creeping as the house is silent. He really does have you all to himself- he gets to just sit around and talk to you without disturbance. His tongue peeks to wet his lips, his mouth dry and thirst lingers to linger. You already know that he’s here, having messaged you early, he calls your name, letting you know that he’s in the kitchen. He can hear a muffled reply, one that he can’t quite make out due to the thick walls. Assuming that you might have asked for a drink, he pulls two out of the fridge, setting them down on the counter.

In the corner of his eye, he catches a glimpse of something shining under the light, his attention now turned to it. On the counter sits a glass covered plate with neatly arranged baked sweets inside of it. There’s a sticky note attached- elegant handwriting that tells the reader not to take one without permission. There’s plenty of them, and finding no harm in taking just one, he does a quick glance around the room to make sure it is empty. With delicate hands, he lifts the glass cover, grabbing a sweet and taking a bite. It’s sweet, overly so, filling his mouth and yet, in the next bite, it’s perfect- soft and sweet, the sweet melting in his mouth. He eats the remainder, licking his lips, taking another quick glance to the entrance of the kitchen, he reaches for another. As he does so, you call his name, his body turning towards your voice and walking towards you as if he were in a trance.

Being around the Avatar of Lust should have prepared Solomon for any hints of aphrodisiacs. It wouldn’t be his time that he’s been engulfed with the sweet scent of one, nor the lingering taste that sits heavy on his tongue and makes his teeth ache with sweetness. And yet, he doesn’t notice the fogginess in his mind until he stands at your door. His mouth is filled with cotton, his chest tight with labored breathing that puffs past his lips, and he can hardly think straight. All that Solomon knows is that he wants to be near you and not in the way that he usually wants- to hold your hand and be seated by you, but in a way much more intimate that makes his face flush and skin burn. His feet drag against the floor, his eyes heavy and he can feel the pulsing of his cock, and the beating of his heart that beats in his rib cage. Your voice sounds closer, still muffled by the door, but he can hear you, he can hear your bed creak and the sound of your footsteps walking towards the door.

Solomon:

The few seconds that it takes you to arrive at your door are the longest that the sorcerer has ever gone through. He can hear your steps, he can feel the air shaft and his mouth is filled with drool. He wonders if his face is still flushed, blood pooling in his cheeks or he’s finally returned to a normal color. Despite the twisting in his stomach and the familiar pang of want, Solomon greets you at your door, smiling cheerfully and teasing at how fast you came rushing to the door. He’s quick to rush to your bed, sitting cross legged and trying to ignore the wave of pleasure that sends a chill down his spine. He lets out a shaky breath, masking it as a breathless laugh when you give him an odd look. He only shakes his head and asks for you to sit beside him, patting the bed as he smiles. He knows what courses through his veins, he’s felt this effect multiple times in his life, and while he’s dealt with them before, he doesn’t want you to see him in such a vulnerable state, not when he’d be so fixated on his own pleasure that he’d deprive you of your own. He bites at the inside of his cheek and chastises himself for thinking that you’d even help him with his issue. He got himself into this mess, and he won’t drag you into it.

He can’t stand the look in your eyes- the confusion mixed with concern as your brows furrow and your lips pout. Yet, he continues to smile, asking for you to join him on the bed, color returning to his face when his mind wanders at the sound of his sentence. You walk quickly to him and he looks down, staring at the floorboards and gulping the salvia that has pooled in his mouth. His name is called and the sweet sound of it leaving your lips makes his heart ache- a soft whisper, his name cooed and your hands resting over his shoulders. He hums in response, keeping his head down. Your hands are soft compared to his, calluses that have formed over the ages while yours remain soft, a gentle touch that has long been forgotten. He peers upwards, letting his chin rest against your palm and the look you give him makes his lungs deflate, his heart pounding reactivity against his chest and face going red once more. You ask him if he’s all right, and he wishes that he could say yes. He wishes that he could remember the spell it was to wash away the effects of the aphrodisiac. All he wanted to do was spend the day with you. He is unable to lie to you, chuckling nervously with his hand scratching at the back of his head.

It’s much easier to stare at your closet as he explains. After all, it sounds so silly to tell you that he had eaten something that he was warned to not have eaten. He tells you how he had consumed something, an aphrodisiac that makes him unable to think properly. He’s lucky enough that he can explain it but even so, the ache in his stomach won’t lessen, his chest deflates, his voice going hoarse as he apologizes to you. He really had meant to spend the day with you, but now, he sits on your bed, defiling the very place you rest, with himself. Your hand falls from his face and for that short second where you aren’t touching him, makes his heart drop. But then, you cup his face and sit on his lap and it’s enough for his mind to spiral, his hands catching himself as he leans backwards,a heavy flush crossing over his nose and filling his face. Your hands cup his face and he can only stare at you with his mouth parted, his eyes glancing to your lips that smile at him. The aphrodisiac hits him hard when you touch him, his cock throbbing and pressing against the side of our thigh. He doesn’t know if you’re teasing him or if he’s allowed to lean into your touch. His body is on fire, his eyes widening and your lips ghost over his. You call his name and he nods his head, whispering a feeble plea for you to kiss him.

The kiss is soft, a gentle press against his lips but he wants more. He needs more. He feels as if he’s about to die if he doesn’t get more. He whines against your lips, grasping onto your shirt with shaky hands and pulling you closer to him, shifting to let the tent in his pants rub against your thigh. The tight friction makes him deepen the kiss, his tongue running over your bottom lip as his hands twist your shirt in his hands. He’s flustered, whining and breaking the kiss to whisper who he needs more, how he’s aching for your touch. Your hand rests over his thigh, his muscles twitching in response to you being there, to you even touching him. Slowly, you move upwards, every inch leaving him shaking. Finally, your hands reach over his cock, cupping the tent and palming it gently. He moans into your mouth, pulling away and resting his head on your shoulder, breathing heavily as you undo his zipper, and pull away at his briefs, letting his cock spring free, an opaque white dotting at his cock and slipping down his head.

Every feeling in his body is intensified, the blood that rushes throughout his body, the way that his saliva is heavy on his tongue, the vein on his cock that sends a pins and needles throughout his body when you rub your thumb over it- he’s breathing heavily, his hands loosening around you, only to tighten and grip at your shirt, pulling you close and telling you to continue, begging for more. His cock throbs in your hand, creamy discharge spilling over and staining himself. He lets out a moan, broken and rippled with gasps as he begs for you to continue, his cock still so sensitive and spurting out his seed. You continue on, leaving him with tears racing down his face, his voice cracking as he speaks, his cock still erect with your hand over it. You slowly lead him down, letting him lay above you, your legs spread and the shorts that you wear riding up, revealing your plump thighs. Solomon is above you, his lips pressing against yours, lining his cock between your thighs as he humps you, holding you close with tears in his eyes as he thanks you, letting his semen taint your covers.

[artemfication]

Sticky Notes

Classes at RAD are for the most part interesting, especially for exchange students from the human realm. But the basics like human history, geography and English classes are deadly boring for MC. They were already in university before the exchange program and now they have to relive the hell that was high school subjects?! There was a reason why they had decided to go to the art academy. Not that they would get much out of the study except for a fancy paper and unemployment, but it was better than rotting away behind the desk with lots of text on paper.

Today they were just wasting their time in English class again. It didn’t help that the teacher was known to speak with a monotonous voice so the entire class was bored out of their minds. The only fun part was that the teacher didn’t really care about the use of a D.D.D. But they had to be on silent mode.

To MC’s delight they had found a lost stack of sticky notes in their bag so they decided to doodle a bit to pass time. They doodled classmates, random objects, little anatomy studies from their phone, sometimes animals or a stupid human inside joke only Solomon understood. At the end of the class, their entire table would be covered in sticky notes with all kinds of doodles and since it was their assigned seat, they could just leave it at as it is.

So imagine MC’s surprise when they found their seat completely clean. Not a single sticky note in sight. There was nothing harmful about that, but they wondered who took them. Did the teacher remove them? But the teacher denied having touched any doodles, he thought it added a nice atmosphere to the classroom so he left it alone. All seven brothers shook their heads when asked if they took any sticky notes. Class was starting so MC didn’t have time to ask others. That didn’t stop them from making more though, Solomon enforced the behavior by searching for memes and making MC change the people into the brothers. It was a miracle the two still had oxygen by the time the class ended, they were trying really hard not to laugh too much. Again they left the doodles on their table and went to the cafeteria with Purgatory Hall crew. During lunch, the demon Prince came by as well looking quite…giddy…? It was a strange look on him and no one could really guess nor did they dare to ask. Perhaps Barbatos allowed something be wanted to do? Hopefully it’s nothing…strange…

After lunch they return for classes, looking up some more reference material but they are met by a surprise.

They walk into the classroom and the moment they look at their seats, everything is squeaky clean! All the notes are gone.

“Shit…”

“Shit…”

“What’s shit?” Satan has joined them and he is a little confused why they’re staring at their tables. Isn’t it suppose to be clean and in order?

“Ah…it’s uh…we drew some memes and…”

“We left it on MC’s table, but they disappeared somehow…?”

“Hmm…suspicious. It wasn’t any of us, that’s for sure, otherwise Lucifer would have gotten your asses already.”

“The only ones who have access to the closed classrooms are the teachers, but none of them claim to have taken any.” MC adds and the three simply stare at the tables, before the teacher tells them to go to their own seats.

However, MC struggles to follow the class as they keep getting distracted by their own thoughts. Why would anyone take some silly doodles?

After two hours the bell finally rings and it marks the end of their day. MC is still in their own world and Solomon has to snap his fingers in front of their nose to wake them up.

“You’re still thinking about who took them?”

“Yeah, it’s all just really strange to me.”

“How about this. We make some new doodles tomorrow and leave them on the desk. I’ll place an all-seeing-eye in my PE bag and leave it in the classroom. If the culprit comes back for more, we can catch them.”

“They’re silly little sticky notes, I’m just overthinking it.”

“Did I hear you say catching a culprit?” Satan butts in, being curious as always with his big love for mystery novels. His room is full of them and MC has had the pleasure of borrowing them a few times. Satan’s room is basically MC’s personal library. But the price for delay or loss is way greater than RAD’s…Asmodeus is the only one who lived to tell the tale. It still haunts him to this day and he has sworn to never borrow a book from Satan ever again.

“Yeah, why?” MC asks as they raise an eyebrow.

“I want to join.”

“It’s really not that dramatic though.”

“I don’t care, if it happens to be Lucifer, I’ll have some blackmail material and otherwise I have something interesting for the day.”

The next day, the three of them mumble amongst themselves for a bit, before leaving to “get lunch”. They pretend the leave their side of the building and Solomon looks around as he quickly puts an invisibility spell on them. They sneak back to their classroom’s corridor and hide in their lockers, waiting for someone to enter the space.

It feels like hours have passed when they finally hear heavy voices and footsteps approaching their lockers. Unlike Solomon and MC, Satan has heightened senses as a demon, thus he can make out the culprits by scent and aura.

“Your majesty, I still can’t help but wonder why you insist on taking all those silly drawings. Is there something special about them?”

Diavolo?!

“The special thing about them is that they are made by MC. I think they’re absolutely adorable, though some of them are quite odd, I enjoy looking at them. Perhaps if I use them as research material, I might be able to understand human culture better.”

MC feels a little funny and looks down at their green pactmark on their hip to see it faintly glowing. Satan’s pactmark, he is experiencing conflicting emotions. They quickly grab their D.D.D. to text him, asking if everything’s alright.

“I’m fine…it’s just so weird to me how obsessed he seems with humans…particularly you…but you’re mine already…”

So it seems he is worried, a little possessive but also a bit amused. It could also be that his wrath is acting up faintly.

“I agree that it’s strange, but you don’t have to worry. I’m sure his curiosity is the reason for all this, not me as a person. He might be the Demon Prince of Devildom, but you’re my Demon Prince.”

“I swear on Mammon’s creditcard, if it weren’t for this damn locker and those people inside the classroom, I would’ve kissed you.”

“Looks like we’ve got plans once we’re home ;)”

“Wrong fucking chat you nasty rabbits.” Solomon interrupts them and MC can feel themselves blush out of embarrassment. It’s a good thing they’re in separate lockers.

After a little while the door opens again and they catch a glimpse of a bundle of sticky notes in a box, along with the previous lost ones. There’s a ton of them. Has he been collecting each and every one MC’s been leaving around for the past few weeks or something?

When the professor has left, the three bust out of their lockers to confront the Demon Prince who’s ears and cheeks have gone red. Barbatos seems unfazed, he probably saw all of this coming some time ago.

“So you’re the one who’s been taking MC’s sticky notes, your majesty?” Solomon crosses his arms in amusement as he questions the throne’s heir.

“I don’t quite understand why you have to be sneaky about it when you could’ve asked MC or Solomon directly.”

“Was that why you were looking so happy lately?” Satan asks forcing the prince to give in.

“When I first saw them I thought they were cute and wanted to study one from up-close. And I guess from there my curiosity took over so I kept coming back to see if you made more…”

“Curious about humans as ever I see…I’ll let you off the hook this time since they’re just silly little drawings, but if I ever catch you taking something more personal without permission, you can forget about any favors.” MC squints their eyes at Diavolo who nods in agreement, relieved that they aren’t mad at him.

“Great, problem solved. Can we go home now?”

“It’s lunch break Satan…”

“Argh! I just wanna go home...” Satan signs as he leans his forehead against MC’s shoulder.

“Let me talk to the headmaster. The least I could do is gives you early dismissal from class for causing trouble.”

“Would you really?!”

“Leave it to me, you three can pack your stuff and go home.” Diavolo nods at Satan, who seems as happy as one can be and the blond rushes trough the classroom to pack his and MC’s bag, before dragging his S/O out of the building like a kid going to the amusement park.

“Satan slow down!” MC giggles, but gets swept up in his arms as he runs home with them.

“No time to lose before the others are home! Don’t forget what you told me over text.” He says with a mischievous grin.

Rip levi’s ears I guess if u know what I mean 😏