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literaryvein-reblogs · 6 months ago

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"troublesome" words

Lie, Lying, Lay, Lain vs. Lie, Lying, Lied, Lied

"Lie" is an intransitive verb meaning "to rest" or "to be at rest." Its forms are: lie, lying, lay, lain. Examples: Lie down. 2) Lying in the sun dries our skin. 3) The parcels lay on the table. 4) We have lain in the sun for thirty minutes.

"Lie" can also mean make an untrue statement. It is an intransitive verb whose forms are: 'lie' and lying (present), 'lied' (both past and participle.) Examples: 1) Please don't lie to me. 2) He was punished for lying. 3) They lied to their parents. 4) They have lied before.

Unlike "lie," "lay" is a transitive verb, so it always takes an object. Remember that "lie" never takes an object because it is intransitive. The forms of "lay" are lay, laying, laid, laid. Examples: 1) Lay the bricks here. 2) He was laying the bricks in rows. 3) Yesterday he laid the bricks ten high. 4) He has laid all the bricks in the wall.

Note that the present tense of "lay" is the same as the past tense of "lie."

Its vs. It's, 'Tis

"Its" is the possessive of the pronoun "it." Note that there is no apostrophe. Example: Its appearance was misleading.

"It's" is a contraction meaning "it is." Example: It's a long way to Tipperary. "It's" can also be a contraction meaning "it has." Example: It's been a long day.

"'Tis" is also a contraction meaning "it is." Example: 'Tis seldom used in modern English.

Set vs. Sit

"Set" is, in most ordinary uses, a transitive verb needing an object. It means to put or place something in a certain position, or to arrange. Its principal parts are: set, setting, set, set. Examples: 1) She set the table. 2) He set the watch.

"Sit" is, in ordinary usage, an intransitive verb. It means to rest somewhere (like a chair) in an upright position. Its principal parts are: sit, sitting, sat, sat. Examples: He sits down.

"Sit" can also be used to talk about where an object is located. Example: The clock sits on the shelf. In a few instances "sit" is used as a transitive verb, such as in: He sat himself down.

Your vs. You're

You have probably encountered confusion between your and you're in many Internet posts.

Sometimes people write comments like "your so pretty in this picture" when they really mean "you're so pretty in this picture."

So what's the difference? Just remember—you're (with the apostrophe) is a contraction meaning you are, but your (no apostrophe) indicates possession or ownership.

Their, There, and They're

"Their" is the possessive form for the plural pronoun "they." Example: They used their money on video games.

The word "there" has several meanings. As an adverb it means in, at, or about that place. Example: Place the book there.

When used as a noun, "there" means that place. Example: Are you from there, too?

When used as an interjection, "there" expresses an exclamation of triumph or relief. Example: There! It is finished.

"They're" is a contraction meaning "they are." Example: They're going to the show.

To, Too, and Two

"To" is used as a preposition or part of an infinitive phrase. Examples: 1) We are going to the store. 2) Are you going to sing a song?

"Too" is an adverb meaning also or to an excessive degree. Examples: 1) I am going too. 2) You are just too much.

"Two" is the number 2. Example: I have two dollars.

You and I vs. You and Me

"You and I" are pronouns used as either the subject or the predicate in a sentence. Examples: 1) You and I are going. 2) The winners are you and I.

"You and Me" are pronouns used as direct objects, indirect objects, or objects of prepositions. Examples: 1) They have chosen you and me. 2) The reward is for you and me.

Who vs. Whom

Some people think the main difference between who and whom is the way they sound, with whom being the more formal way to say who. In reality, the distinction between them is grammatical.

Even though who and whom are both pronouns, they do completely different jobs in a sentence—who acts as the subject while whom acts as the object.

Just remember to use who to refer to the person who is propelling the action in a sentence; use whom when the person is having the action done to them.

You also use whom, never who, as the object of a preposition.

Who: Subject pronoun; never use as the object of a preposition Whom: Direct or indirect object pronoun; Must use with prepositions

Some examples:

Students who study hard usually earn excellent grades. The pronoun, who, is referring back to the subject, students. (Who earns excellent grades? The students do.) Because the pronoun is referring to a subject, it would be incorrect to use the object pronoun whom.

Earning excellent grades also depends on whom you study with. This sentence has two clauses, but for the purposes of this lesson we'll focus only on the second one, whom you study with. In this clause, whom is the object of the preposition with, so it would be incorrect to use the subject pronoun who.

Hint: You can replace who with other subject pronouns (he, she, I, we, they, etc.) and whom with other object pronouns (him, her, me, us, them, etc.).

The comedian who is on TV right now is the funniest guy I've ever seen. ⇒ He is on TV. Who is the subject of the verb is, so you can replace who with he.

My cousins are the family members whom I see most often. ⇒ I see them. Whom is the direct object of the verb see, so you can replace whom with them. You'll notice that the placement of whom is different from that of other object pronouns—whom generally comes before the subject and verb while other object pronouns like them come after the subject and verb. For that reason, it might not be obvious at first glance that you can replace whom with another object pronoun (you would never say them I see).

A Couple of Sticky Situations: Who vs. Whom

There are certain sentence types that make it difficult to decide whether to use who or whom.

Object of One Clause, Subject of Another This situation involves two verbs with a pronoun between them:It was pitch dark, and I couldn't see who was coming down the hall.Notice how who seems to "stick" to both verbs—it looks like the object of the first verb and the subject of the second. So which pronoun do you choose, who or whom? There's a simple answer—subjects speak louder than objects because they propel the action in a sentence, so always "stick" with the subject pronoun who.

Preposition Separated from its Object Take a look at this example of traditional formal English: For whom are those flowers? Chances are you've never heard anyone ask a question that way. When we talk, the preposition "unsticks" from the pronoun and moves all the way down to the end of the sentence: Whom are those flowers for? Still sound strange? That's because most people would say Who are those flowers for? but it's really better to use whom because it's the object of the preposition for. It's easy to tell when you're dealing with an object-preposition separation because you can replace whom with him, her, me, us, them, etc. Question: Whom are those flowers for? Whom is the object of the preposition for. Answer: The flowers are for her. Now, in the answer, her has become the object of the preposition for.

Note: Traditionally, it is incorrect to end a sentence with a preposition, but when we talk it happens naturally. Many teachers still prefer their students not to end sentences with prepositions, but this rule has become more relaxed in recent years.

All Ready vs. Already

"All ready" refers to a state of readiness. Example: They were all ready to go. In the case of a singular person, the "all" in "all ready" can be dropped to just say, "Are you ready?"

"Already" means prior to some specified time. Example: They were already packed and ready to go when he arrived.

All Together vs. Altogether

"All Together" means in concert or in unison. Example: They sang all together.

"Altogether" means wholly, completely, or absolutely. Example: This is altogether strange.

All Ways vs. Always

"All ways" or "all the ways" means every manner possible. Example: She was in all ways very humble.

"Always" means at all times. Example: She was always humble.

Everyone vs. Every One

The terms everyone and every one may look the same, but they are used in different contexts.

Everyone, as one word, is a singular pronoun that refers to a group of people. It's synonymous with its sister pronoun, everybody.

Remember, even though a group is made up of several members, everyone is always singular because you refer to those members as a single group.

Everyone is used only for people, never animals or objects.

Everyone I know is coming to the pool party on Saturday. Multiple people are coming to the party, but they are being treated as a single group.

These cookies are for everyone. The cookies are for a group.

Every one, as two words, is a phrase that refers to the individuals that make up a group, not to the group as a whole. It is synonymous with the phrases every single one and each one.

You can also use it for emphasis to give your sentence a little more "oomph." Just like everyone, every one is always singular.

However, unlike everyone, every one can refer to anything, including people, animals, and objects.

I think every one of these cakes is delicious. This sentence emphasizes that each individual cake in the group is delicious. You could simply say "These cakes are delicious," but it wouldn't have the same effect.

Every one of them is coming to the party. This sentence also uses every one for emphasis. It's not just everyone who's coming to the party—it's every single person in the group.

Hint: Here's a little trick to help you remember the difference between everyone and every one:

When every and one join together (everyone), you are focusing on the group as a whole—the two words work together as a single unit.

Everyone laughed. (The group laughed.)

When every and one stand alone (every one), you are emphasizing individuals—the two words work separately.

Every one of them laughed. (Each person laughed.)

Award vs. Reward

"Award" means to bestow an honor or object by a considered decision. Example: The principal gave academic awards to the top students.

"Reward" is something given in return for something done, either good or evil. Example: He was rewarded with cookies.

Anger, Angry vs. Mad

"Anger" (Angry) means a strong displeasure and antagonism directed toward the cause of a possible wrong or injustice; wrath; ire. Example: I am angry.

Madness (Mad) means a suffering from or manifesting severe mental disorder; insane; lunatic; psychotic; crazy. Example: Madness is a severe mental disorder.

Note: It is common in informal everyday expressions for the word "mad" to be used for "angry." This covers the explicit and formal meaning of the words.

Can vs. May

In formal speech writing, "can" implies the ability to do something. Example: I can throw a ball.

"May" implies a need for permission. Example: May I throw a ball?

In informal speech and writing, "can" is now acceptable in the sense of "may." Example: Can I leave now?

At the formal level the distinction between "can" and "may" is still observed.

Fewer vs. Less

If you've been to the grocery store lately, you've probably noticed a sign at checkout that says "15 items or less." You'll learn in this lesson that the sign should say "15 items or fewer."

The reason is straightforward—when talking about a quantity you can count with numbers, use fewer, but for an amount you can't count, use less. Below are some examples:

There are fewer students here today than there were yesterday. Use fewer because you can count the number of students. Maybe there were 30 students in class yesterday and only 25 today.

The teacher assigned less homework today than he did yesterday. Use less because the word homework is not countable. It's not possible to make homework plural—homeworks is not a word. You wouldn't say I have three homeworks tonight ... and that actually leads us into this lesson's hint:

Hint: Usually, if you can add s to the end of the noun to make it plural, use fewer, not less.

Just be mindful of exactly what you're trying to communicate; sometimes you can use either less or fewer, but the word you choose will change the meaning of the sentence:

You gave him less pie than you gave me. Yes, it's true that you can add s to the word pie to make it plural. However, this sentence is talking about the amount of pie, not how many pies, so use less.

Last year's pie-eating contest champion ate fewer pies this year than last. This sentence tells us that there is more than one pie. Maybe last year he ate 10 pies, but this year he could only choke down 8. Because you can count the number of pies, use fewer.

Be careful when discussing time, measurements, or money. These often seem countable, but in reality they refer to an amount, so use less, not fewer.

Our business pulled in less than $100,000 last year. You'll be able to finish the race in less than 10 minutes.

Lose vs. Loose

The word lose, with one o, is a verb that means you have lost something that belongs to you. It can also mean to reduce or lessen.

My little sister always loses her toys. Vitamins lose their potency when they are left out on the table.

Spelling Hint 1: When you say the word lose aloud, you pronounce the s like a z.

Spelling Hint 2: Think about the words lose and lost. Both words have the same meaning (when you lose something, it's lost), and both are spelled with only one o.

The word loose, with two o's, means that something is not tight, or that it's coming apart.

He loosened the reins on his horse. My shoelaces always come loose during gym class.

Spelling Hint 1: Unlike lose, the word loose is pronounced the way it looks, with the s making a regular s sound.

Spelling Hint 2: Remember the phrase loose as a goose. Both loose and goose are spelled with two o's.

More Helpful Hints: Lose vs. Loose

Note that these two words can fulfill different grammatical roles.

The verb lose can be turned into a noun by adding a different ending.

The word loose can be used as a verb, an adjective, or even an adverb, depending on the ending you choose.

The words lose and loose are used in many idiomatic expressions (that's a fancy term for slang). This basically means that their conventional definitions can be stretched a bit.

Accept vs. Except

"Accept" means to receive. Example: I accept your invitation.

"Except" means to omit or to exempt. Example: Everyone except Bill will attend.

Affect vs. Effect

"Affect" may be a verb or a noun, but for the purposes of this lesson, treat each instance of "affect" as a verb meaning "to influence or to change." Examples: 1) Illness affects his patience. 2) She attempted to affect a caring attitude.

"Effect" may be a verb or a noun. As a verb it means to bring about. Example: We will effect the changes we want.

As a noun it means result of a cause. Example: What effect will this bring?

Advice vs. Advise

"Advice" is a noun meaning a suggestion or recommendation. Example: What is your advice?

"Advise" is a verb meaning to recommend. Example: I have been advised to attend.

Between vs. Among, Amongst

"Between" shows connection with two persons or things and may refer to space or time. Example: There was an alley between the buildings.

"Among" and "amongst" show connection with more than two persons or things. Sometimes people use "between" when they want to show a connection with more than two things, but this is not correct. Example: They stood among the trees.

Bad vs. Badly

"Bad" is an adjective meaning sick, in pain, unpleasant, or immoral. It is always used with nouns and linking verbs, and it can never be used with action verbs. Example: I feel bad.

"Badly" is an adverb that is used with all other verbs. You use it when you want to say that someone is not good at something or that someone did a bad job. It should not be used as an adjective and is never used with linking verbs. Example: He drives badly.

Breath vs. Breathe

"Breath" is the noun pronounced to rhyme with death. Example: I lost my breath.

"Breathe" is the verb pronounced as to rhyme with sheathe. Example: Breathe deeply.

Bring, Take, Fetch, and Carry

"Bring" implies moving or conveying something from a distant place or person to a nearer place or person. Example: Bring me a drink.

"Take" implies motion away from speaker to a person or place. Example: Please take me to your leader.

Some easy ways to remember the differences between "bring" and "take" are: You bring something here, and you take something there. You bring something toward a person, and you take something away from a person.

"Carry" implies the conveying of something from one place to another. Example: Please carry this to the car.

"Fetch" implies a two-way trip that is to go for something and bring it back. Example: Rover, fetch the ball.

Capital vs. Capitol

"Capital" as a noun can mean either the seat of government or wealth and resources.

As an adjective it means first or excellent.

Sometimes it is used to mean punishable by death (a capital offense). Example: Cheyenne is the capital of Wyoming.

"Capitol" is a noun meaning the building in which a state legislature convenes; a statehouse. Example: The Wyoming capitol building is in Cheyenne. Also is referring to the official building of the U.S. Congress in Washington D.C., the word is capitalized as part of the proper noun: Capitol Building.

Complement vs. Compliment

"Complement" means that which completes. It can also be a complete number or set of people or things. Example: Those shoes complement that outfit.

"Compliment" means an expression of admiration or approval given freely as a courtesy. Example: Her compliment on the outfit was appreciated.

Sometimes the adjective "complimentary" also means free. Example: The hotel provided a complimentary breakfast.

Emigrate vs. Immigrate

To "emigrate" is to leave one's country for residence in another. Example: I emigrated from my home country.

To "immigrate" is to come into a country of which one is not a native. Example: The person arrived in the new country as an immigrant.

Farther vs. Further

"Farther" usually implies the idea of physical distance. Example: San Francisco is farther away than San Diego.

"Further" usually implies the idea of greater abstract degrees. In other words, it is used to talk about concepts such as time and progress, among others. Example: His dreams were further in the future.

Council vs. Counsel

A "Council" is an assembly or group that meets for deliberation. It can only be used as a noun. Example: A council of teachers considered his case.

"Counsel" is a noun that means advice or deliberating together. Example: He accepted the counsel of his mother. Note that "counsel" can also be used as a verb, as in "I am counseling my friend," while "council" can only be used as a noun.

Principal vs. Principle

"Principal" as an adjective means main, chief, leading. As a noun, "principal" means a leader, a head, or a sum placed at interest. Examples: 1) The bus was his principal means of transportation. 2) The principal of the school was new.

"Principle" means a rule of action, a moral standard, or a fundamental truth. Example: The principle of the statement was understood by all.

Whether vs. Weather

"Whether" is a conjunction meaning in either case. Example: Tell me whether you are considering our plan.

"Weather" is a noun meaning a prevailing condition or atmosphere: mental or moral climate. Example: Stormy weather is coming.

Allay vs. Alley vs. Ally

"Allay" is a verb meaning to reduce the intensity, lay to rest, or pacify and calm. Example: His mother attempted to allay his fears.

"Alley" is a noun meaning a narrow passageway. Example: There is an alley behind the buildings.

"Ally" is a verb or noun meaning to connect by some relationship usually showing helpfulness or kinship. Example: The United States is a close ally of England.

Allude vs. Elude

"Allude" is a verb meaning to make an indirect or passing reference. Example: The speaker alluded to his fame.

"Elude" is a verb meaning to evade or escape from something. Example: The soldier attempted to elude the enemy.

Allusion vs. Illusion

"Allusion" is the noun derived from the verb "allude," which is to make an indirect or passing reference to something. Example: She made allusions about her wealth.

"Illusion" is the action of deceiving the eye or mind by what is unreal or false. Example: The magician created the illusion of flowing water.

All-round vs. All Around

"All-round" is an adjective meaning versatile or general. Example: He is an all-round mechanic.

"All around" has the meaning of being all over a given area. Example: Fir trees were all around the cabin.

Alternate vs. Alternative

"Alternate" (as a verb) means to follow one another by turns. Example: Please alternate the colored pages.

"Alternate" (as a noun) means a substitute or second for another person. Example: I am the alternate committee member.

"Alternative" means a choice between two things. Example: We have only two alternatives.

Apprehend vs. Comprehend

"Apprehend" means to take into custody or grasp mentally. While "apprehend" sometimes means "understand," it is best to use "comprehend" because it's easier for most people to understand. For the purposes of this exercise, always use "comprehend" for "understand." The noun form, "apprehension," means a foreboding or dread of something. Example: Please apprehend the criminal.

"Comprehend" means to grasp mentally or understand fully. Example: Do you comprehend this material? The adjective "comprehensive" means all-inclusive or having a wide range. Example: Final exams are usually comprehensive because they include questions on all the material covered in a semester.

Born vs. Borne

"Born" is an adjective that means brought forth as by birth. It can also describe someone who has a natural talent for something. Example: She is a born musician. Common patterns use "born" as a past participle verb form, as in: She was born on the Fourth of July.

"Borne" is the past participle of the verb "bear" (bear, bore, borne) meaning to support, to carry, to hold in mind, to suffer. Example: The fluffy seeds were borne by the wind.

Censor vs. Censure

"Censor" as a noun means any official examiner of books, plays, etc., empowered to suppress them if they are found to be politically or morally objectionable. Example: Is there a censor for our library?

"Censor" can also be used as a verb meaning examine or suppress. Example: Many movies have to be censored before they are put on TV.

"Censure" means the expression of disapproval or blame, strong criticism, reprimand. Example: Will we be censured for our article?

Notable vs. Notorious, Notoriety

"Notable" and "noted" are used chiefly of persons or things that are remarkable or distinguished for favorable reasons. Examples: 1) The notable remark will be remembered for a long time. 2) The noted author spoke at a local club.

"Notorious" is now almost always used to mean of ill repute. In other words, if someone is known for doing something bad, he or she is "notorious." Example: The notorious outlaw was hunted by the law.

"Notoriety," likewise, means unfavorable publicity or distinction. Example: She did not want any more notoriety.

Persecute vs. Prosecute

"Persecute" means to subject a person or group to persistent ill treatment. Example: People tend to persecute teenagers for their different styles.

"Prosecute" means to pursue, carry out, or bring a lawsuit against a person or group. Example: The court will prosecute anyone who breaks the law.

Continual, Continuous, and Consecutive

"Continual" means happening again and again at short intervals as "continual reminders." Example: The loud trucks were a continual problem.

"Continuous" means uninterrupted, whether of time or space, as in "continuous misery," "continuous rain," or "continuous range of mountains." Example: The stormy weather was continuous.

"Consecutive" means occurring one after the other, as in "consecutive days of the week." Example: Are we to attend on consecutive days?

Sight vs. Site, Cite

"Sight" used as noun means vision or the act of seeing. Example: Sight is one of our senses.

"Sight" used as a verb means to take aim or to spot something that is difficult or unusual to see, or make an observation. Example: Sight along the barrel of the gun.

"Cite" is a verb meaning to quote as authority, to mention in a report, or to summon to appear in court. Example: Please cite the applicable law.

"Site" is a noun meaning a place where an event has occurred, or a place where something is located, a place set apart for some specific use. Example: It was a large school site.

Stationary vs. Stationery

"Stationary" means fixed in one place. Example: The cabinet in the kitchen was stationary.

"Stationery" means writing supplies. Example: The stationery had a flower motif.

#writeblr #writing prompt #studyblr #langblr #linguistics #dark academia #light academia #literature #poetry #writers on tumblr #poets on tumblr #writing reference #writing resources #vocabulary

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spanishskulduggery · 4 months ago

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The -go Verbs

When you're learning the present tense, there's a subset of verbs that are commonly called the -go verbs, because the present tense yo form ends in -go

The verbs in question are usually one of two things: just plain irregular, or regular except for that particular conjugation

The -go verbs include:

tener "to have" -> tengo

hacer "to do/make" -> hago

decir "to say" -> digo

poner "to put" -> pongo

venir "to come" -> vengo

salir "to leave/exit" -> salgo

valer "to be worth" -> valgo

oír "to hear" -> oigo

caer "to fall" -> caigo

traer "to bring" -> traigo

These will also apply to the majority of verbs that are connected to them

satisfacer "to satisfy" -> satisfago

componer "to compose" -> compongo

bendecir "to bless" -> bendigo

maldecir "to curse" -> maldigo

prevenir "to prevent" -> prevengo

sobresalir "to stand out/to exceed" -> sobresalgo

atraer "to attract" -> atraigo

And so on

These are important to keep in mind for two reasons.

First is eventually when you get to present subjunctive; present subjunctive takes its conjugations from the present tense yo forms

As an example, if decir goes to digo, then you'll notice that present subjunctive looks like diga, digas, diga, digan, digamos

You'll also see some of this for commands, but that's a whole other topic with its own host of weirdness all its own...

The second thing is that many of these verbs will have an irregularity in the future and conditional tenses; not all of them, but enough to be aware of

As an example, tener goes to tengo... but then in future it would be tendré "I will have" and then conditional tendría "I would have / I could have"

...You'll find that the irregularities in future and conditional often come with a D, R, or RR [as an example saldría, haría, querría]

Future and conditional share the odd conjugation patterns but the ending is different; pondré/pondría, haré/haría, diré/diría etc

All of that to say is for present subjunctive if it's irregular in the yo that's the pattern you follow

...and future/conditional tends to take its irregularities from the -go verbs [but not always, as querer is irregular there and there are some others, but in general the -go verbs tend to be a small subset because of expected weirdness]

*Small Side Note: There's also one other verb to note technically that is also a -go verb. That is asir which goes to asgo. The verb asir is "to grab/seize" but it's highly unlikely that you'll use it or see it. There are some contexts where you'll see el asa (technically feminine) or el asidero meaning "handle" or more literally "place to grab"... but you almost never see asir in regular usage.

Predominantly if you're saying "to grab/hold onto" you are either using agarrar or aferrar, or in some countries like Spain it's coger

[but be careful about using coger, because in some countries that's quite a vulgar verb for "to fuck"]

I only mention asir because if you look up the -go verbs, they will mention asir but it's not the common verb used for what it means. It's included on the list of -go verbs, and that's usually where people will see it the most. To be clear - outside of the verb list, I can't say I've seen or heard asir used in common Spanish because there are just so many more common verbs to use

#spanish #learning spanish #la gramatica #langblr #learn spanish #learning #long post

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uplatterme · 2 years ago

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a/n: i can’t title this. my wip list literally has it as “haitham gets scammed by dori ft. aphrodisiac”

cw: sub!alhaitham, dom!gn!reader | handjob, cockpolishing, usage of aphrodisiac, crying

————

“haitham? are you alright?” you ask out of worry, the scribe trembling as he uses the door frame to support himself.

you quickly go to him to help him out, but a slight touch of skin makes you flinch due to how warm he is. although, that doesn’t compare to the noise that abrupts out of his throat.

“dearest?” you question him again, only to get yourself pinned to the wall.

he presses himself on your body, grinding in a soft and slow rhythm. he tears up, muttering quiet apologies as he continues his movement.

“what’s wrong?”

“s-sorry…” he holds onto your body, desperately trying to get himself off. each friction has him tensing up that the more he does it, the more it seems like he’s edging himself rather than getting that release that he wants.

he pants, breathless. you’re unsure if he’s even sane enough to know what he’s doing.

you put your arms around him, helping him out as he continues to fuck himself on your thigh. his legs are unstable, shaking as if there’s an earthquake happening.

“p-please. need to cum…” he cries out, sobbing. his cock aches, outlining itself from the outside of his pants.

next thing alhaitham knows, his back is on the soft cushion of your bed. it didn’t take much work, considering his body is as frail as a historical artifact right now.

alhaitham’s lower half is so wet to the point you’re half-convinced that the man had cum outside before even getting here. his cock is twitching, and as your warm fingers envelop him, alhaitham whimpers, cumming instantly.

“my scribe, what exactly have you gotten yourself into?”

“drank…something—hn!” the scholar finds himself sensitive, too sensitive, no matter how minimal your touches are.

he grips the messed up sheets of the bed, unable to contain how his body reacts. he keeps telling his brain to stop, that it’s embarrassing how he’s spread out like this, under your mercy.

he wants you to stop looking at him as if you’re going to devour him whole like a wild beast…

“more….” he begs.

ah, is there even a point of him lying to himself?

“needy today, aren’t we? you said you had work to do…and now you’re here.” you tease.

“it’s not me…it’s because of that damn wine…” he breathes out, he feels you quickening your face and his body shrivels up into another orgasm.

“really. so why is it that instead of getting the antidote, you come to me instead?”

the pleasure is getting to his head. it’s almost as if you’re inside his brain, knowing exactly what he’s thinking.

“i…” he doesn’t see himself winning, even if he decides to think of something to say.

“using such a thing to your advantage. how irresponsible, my scribe.”

you play with the tip of his cock, your thumb slipping on his slit. he drowns in the sensation, all coherent thoughts leaving him.

he didn’t—he swears that he didn’t plan it to end up like this. he was just tricked by that damn merchant!

why didn’t he go get the antidote?

as your finger continues to polish his cock, his body quivers, wanting to curl up and away from the touch. he’s so close—god, he’s gonna cum. he doesn’t want to—he does—no—yes—please!

your other hand keeps him still, forcing him to endure and to not resist the overwhelming satisfaction that you’re giving him.

you’re going to break him. reduce his mind into nothing but a mindless puddle, nothing that the kind of scholar he proudly presents himself as.

he sobs even harder as he reaches another climax. he hears you laugh.

“you’re fine, my pretty baby. i’ll take such good care of you. don’t worry.”

“o-okay.” he responds with a grin.

#sub genshin impact #sub genshin #dom reader #dom!reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #sub alhaitham #sub!alhaitham #alhaitham x reader

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grlsbstshot · 1 month ago

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NEON LIGHTS

Pairing (Original Characters): Jameson Lucas (Aaron Pierre) x Imani St. Cirie (Megan thee Stallion) Story Synopsis:

R&B singer/songwriter, Jameson Lucas, is well known as a charming playboy. The latest in his line of ‘loved em and left em’ behavior? Imani St. Cirie, an emotive singer/songwriter herself. A common sense pulls them in opposite directions – friendships are tested, old flames resurface, and new opportunities threaten to tear them apart for good. In this industry, dreams can make or break you – but what happens when love becomes the gamble of a lifetime?

Chapter Synopsis: Jameson deals with being denied access to his heart's desire and flashes back to the start of their romance while Imani wrestles with her feelings present day. Warnings: Smut (18+), toxic relationship, possessiveness, profanity, usage of the n-word (if you're white and read it, you owe us $20), manual stimulation (fingering, okay?), dick size mention, dirty talk -- if we missed anything, let us know! Word Count: 5.3k // Divider Template: @cafekitsune Notes: The following characters are original creations. Their voice claims are Usher / Lucky Daye (Jameson) & Summer Walker / SZA (Imani). We have no affiliation to any of those artists.

There will be alternating POVs between our leads.

CHAPTER II: Someone to Love

he was blocked. jameson watched his repeated texts and calls go unanswered. the texts said delivered but never read. this was when he was supposed to decide if he was going to stick around for another round of bullshit with her. flashes of the night before came to mind...and he knew the answer was 'yes'. she was ignoring the fuck out of him but he knew imani loved him. she may be able to live without him...but she loved him. maybe that would be enough. "yo, are you listening to me?"

jameson blinked at his best friend, giving the man a blank stare. ellington dupree had been his friend and writing partner for damn near a decade. their connection was instant. where jameson was blessed with a wealthy and well-known mother, ellington had gotten it out the mud. he was a man that knew music inside out all his life. he had a work ethic that jameson envied. it was why he only produced music with ej -- they balanced each other out. where he allowed muse to take over, ej controlled the music. he didn't let it control him. even now, they were supposed to be working on a track from his new album but jameson couldn't seem to find his focus. all he did was wait for imani to call him back.

"yeah, i heard you." "then what i say?"

he gave ellington a glare before rising from his spot on the couch. "something about the horns." ellington tsked, kicking back in his chair before shaking his head. "i said that shit ten minutes ago, nigga. we on a whole nother track. what's up with you?"

jameson didn't answer -- instead he redirected his attention to his phone, texting imani again as he exited his friend's home studio. he heard ej calling his name but descended the stairs anyway.

he watched as another text went through and the message popped up delivered. jameson rolled his eyes, tossing his phone onto the couch as he stared at the ceiling with his hands on his hips. this girl was going drive him crazy.

"are you insane?" "i'm not in the mood right now, e." "yeah, no shit. but you need to get in the mood for something other than imani. YOU wanted to release this album at the top of the year. YOU said you were ready so they've already started promoting the shit."

he lifted his head to deny that he was stressing over imani but the realization hit him hard. "how the fuck you know i was texting mani?" jameson watched as ej rolled his eyes and made himself comfortable on the couch. "how the fuck wouldn't i know? you always get tense and weird over her. it's been a while since she had you fucked up like this though. what happened?"

jameson sighed, closing his eyes to avoid the look on his friend's face when he confessed the truth. he sat down opposite ej and leaned back onto the cushions.

"we fucked." "bullshit." "it's true." "WHEN?!" "last week." "i thought she was dating...what's that nigga name? the football nigga!" "they broke up two months ago." "how the fuck you know that?" jameson gave ej a look and avoided the obvious answer. "oh, you are insane." "it was random. we didn't plan that shit." "she probably didn't." "and what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" "fuck it sound like?"

his eyes opened as he frowned at ej. if anyone had seen how bad it could get between he and imani, it was ej. "i didn't go over there to have sex, man. i just...i wanted to see her. i've missed her all this time. i just couldn't take that shit anymore."

a flash of sympathy crossed his best friend's face but it disappeared within a moment. "don't do this, jamie. don't. you can't walk down this road with imani again."

ej was probably right, jameson knew that. but he also knew that he wasn't walking away from her again. he glanced over at the phone that he abandoned, willing it to ring or beep or something. anything to let him know she gave a shit. "can't help it." he murmured to his best friend. "i want her."

this was the biggest night of his life...and he found that he didn't care. his gaze was stuck on a woman who had walked past him. none of this shit really mattered anymore. he wanted to know her. he had a tony award. he had two grammys already. he was nominated for another three that night but as he leaned over in his seat to watch her saunter down the rest of the aisle, jameson found himself smiling for entirely different reasons.

"i want her." he said bluntly. only ej acknowledged him. he said 'huh?' but his gaze followed her the same way jameson's had. 'ohhhh' was all he uttered, giving a laugh.

she had her back to them so he had no idea who the hell she was but he had the urge to. four awards from his own and he wasn't watching the stage. he wasn't talking to his collaborators or friends to the right of him. he was watching her. a couple of people rose to let her into her seat and jameson found himself doing the same. he stood to his feet, adjusting his tux's jacket as he made his way towards her.

ej called his name but he didn't respond. this was more important. he got to the aisle and dropped to his haunches, learning forward to catch her eye. he recognized her then. imani. there were people next to her who peered over at him in confusion but jameson's smile was only for her.

"excuse me." he said softly, bracing his hands against the seat next to him. she looked at him, eyebrow quirked at his audacity to interrupt her conversation. "hi. i just...i'm sorry. i just wanted to come tell you something you already know. you're the most beautiful woman i've ever seen in my life."

if she recognized him or was impressed by his attention, it didn't show on her face. jameson watched her give a little laugh and haughtily respond. "thank you." she said. "how many other women have you used that on tonight?"

"none." he replied honestly. "i saw you and next thing i know, i'm over here practically on my knees to talk to you." jameson ignored the woman next to imani clearing her throat. it was a public conversation but he carried it on as if they were the only two in the room. free from a relationship that had lost it's fire, jameson hadn't been looking for anybody. he wanted to invest in his career again and after two hit albums -- it was time for something new. money, cars, clothes, and women had been his life since he was eighteen and old enough to spread the thighs of any and every woman in hollywood. he'd been over it. but this was important. getting this girl felt like it'd be life changing.

he leaned forward, offering the woman his hand. "i'm jameson." he surprised himself by giving his full name. often, he introduced himself as james. nobody actually in his life called him jameson but his mother. he had the urge to hear his name from her lips. "i know who you are, ms. imani st. cirie. future best new artist winner." her eyes lit up at the fact that he had recognized her. she hadn't topped the charts yet but he knew it was a matter of time. her music was raw. real. she touched people and he knew her time was coming.

when she took his hand, he brushed his thumb against the back of her fingertips. the people they had their hands stretched across didn't matter. hell, he had forgotten other people could hear them when she responded. "nice to meet you jameson." she said. "you can call me ms. st. cirie. your face looks so familiar. i just can't put my finger on it."

jameson laughed out loud -- loud enough that people on the aisle in front of them turned to identify the sound. he'd been famous from birth. paparazzi shots of him hanging off his mother's hip had been tagged in people magazine. pictures of them at the park. his high school yearbook had been blasted across myspace and twitter. and when he started making music himself? well, he became a teen heartthrob at 19. he didn't believe her but he liked that she didn't fall over him. "that's strange." he replied with a shrug, slowly grinning at her. "but since you can't remember, maybe this is your chance to get to know me...personally. i'll be honest, ms. st. cirie -- i'm dying to get to know you."

her gaze roamed his face but her lips curved into a smile. "and why should i do that?"

"i heard i'm a good time." "and this is where the line of women come in, yes?" "we're not talking about other women. we're talking about you and me, ms. st. cirie."

imani gave her friend a look and the friend automatically rose, shifting down a seat. her gaze came back to him and she nodded her head, wordlessly giving him approval to sit next to her. jameson rose from his position at the end of the aisle, ignoring the ache in his calves and thighs. he'd been squatting for so long but hadn't noticed it. all he saw was the fact that he was making strides towards what he wanted.

"you don't feel this thing between us?" he asked her curiously. somehow, he had sat without losing contact with her for longer than a few seconds. he switched the positioning, holding her hand in his right. she tsked, yanking her hand from his grasp and shook her head. "i don't feel anything. i just think you're funny."

jameson leaned towards her, keeping his voice low enough so that it would take others effort to eavesdrop on their conversation. "i could tell you shit you already know. that you're the most beautiful woman i've ever seen. that i want you so bad i don't really know what to do with myself. would that help? i want you. and from the way you look at me, i think you want me too. so what are we going to do about it?"

"that was a good line, jameson." "i'm not giving you lines. i'm trying to get you where you need to be." "need to be?" "definitely." "you so fucking cocky." "i got reason to be. ms. st. cirie...will you go out with me?" "you don't give up, do you?" "no. not easily."

he could tell that she liked that. despite giving him a hell of a lot of attitude, her fingers fidgeted nervously on her lap. she either liked him or didn't know how to say no. jameson reached for her hand again, gently stilling her fingertips. she didn't seem alarmed or afraid then. she relaxed before meeting his gaze.

"no pressure. i think you're beautiful. i admire your mind. your music. your talent. give me one chance to show you that." determined to not miss out on the good thing sitting right next to him, jameson did his best to show her he was serious...but he took a risk and lowered his head, pressing a kiss to her thumb -- the first contact between them that wasn't totally innocent.

his gaze flickered up to hers and he knew he had her. she went soft, leaning in as if she were going to let him kiss her -- but she remembered where they were. "And the Grammy for Best R&B Performance goes to...U Don't Have to Call! James Lucas!"

jameson didn't move from his seat. he didn't take his eyes off her. imani looked between him and the stage, expecting him to go up but he didn't. this was more important. eventually, ej got up. his best friend gave the speech that jameson likely would have given but he didn't hear the words. imani leaned closer so he could near her, whispering "okay. one date." against his ear.

jameson smiled, turning his head to offer imani a kiss. not even twenty minutes after meeting and he was going for it. he had always been an ambitious man. just as he hoped, she took him up on the offer. she leaned in and their lips met. it was brief but served as the spark that ignited their obsession with each other.

it took two whole weeks for their schedules to line up. photoshoots, interviews, and a sudden trip to new york had kept him from what he really wanted. anticipation had been a bitch but they filled the time in between with texts and phone calls. he had discovered that imani was both smart and funny. she could make him burst out laughing over the smallest thing. she seemed to be a good person and that appealed to him. he seemed to really be into this girl. so much so that he browsed her instagram, constantly looking for things she liked. what flowers she enjoyed. people she liked having conversation with. knowing little things about her had spiraled into wanting to know everything about her. he was down so bad that ej had been disgusted when he walked into studio in the middle of the night and caught him giggling on the phone with her like a teenager.

finally, they got to see each other again. standing alone in the vastness of the getty museum, he and imani kept their fingertips intertwined. the only sounds were the soft echo of their footsteps on polished floors. The museum had been closed for the night, but the director had made an exception just for them — a private tour. No crowds, no distractions. Just the two of them and all the art they'd agreed to pretend they were paying attention to. jameson's kept straying to her. everything about her was mesmerizing. the way her hair fell into her eyes, the cute little way she'd snuggled into him when he hugged her when he met her outside. the sweet way she swung their hands as they walked. he was gone over this girl and didn't know what to do about it.

“so,” she said, breaking the silence with a teasing tone, “you go to museums all the time or is this just to impress me?”

he glanced around, his eyes glinting with amusement. “it's all for you. you got me stalking your instagram to see what you like. i saw you went to several museums around the world so..." he shrugged, looking at her to see she was surprised at what he'd said. “but what do you like?” she asked him. jameson laughed. "you." he answered easily enough.

she fell silent again as they continued on. the views of los angeles almost as magnificent as the art. they entered a gallery that seemed to be a study in light and shadow, with large, dramatic sculptures. he was comfortable even in the silence with her. felt like they were the only people in the world, the art surrounding them like a secret they were sharing, just the two of them.

“i think i like you too.” imani said softly. her tone didn't hold the same teasing as before. she was serious. jameson dipped his head to get a good look at her and stopped walking to face her. "why do you sound so sad when you say that?"

"because i don't know if i can trust you." imani said softly. jameson couldn't promise to be the picture of fidelity. he'd cheated once before in a relationship but that didn't seem to be the best thing to say to a woman you wanted to be with. "you can trust how i feel about you. i swear -- i have never felt like this in my life. you got me kicking my feet and twirling my hair and shit, girl. i got it bad." she gave him a short laugh, shaking her head, but he was pleased to see her smile again. "you gave me a chance for a date now give me a chance to show you that i want to be your man."

"my man? you moving kind of fast, ain't you?" "hell yeah. i'm trying to lock you down before a billionaire prince pull up on you out of nowhere." "you can't compete with a billionaire?" "absolutely not. i can't buy you a private island." "then what good are you?" "i can sing. i'm good looking. i give good dick. which reason work for you?"

"boy, bye!" imani pulled away, laughing abruptly as she waved him off. jameson followed closely, not wanting her to go too far from him. "where you going?" he asked her, holding on to her hand. imani snorted, pointing at the art across the room. "over there because you playing!" jameson's laughter echoed through the space and joined hers as she tried to shake him off. "nahhhh. come play with me over here."

her smile deepened, a challenge flickering in her eyes. "i'll play with you later." jameson stepped closer to her, pulling her close. "i'ma hold you to that." even in heels, she stood a few inches shorter than he was. he couldn't get over how fucking beautiful she was. pretty ass dark brown eyes. pretty ass nose that lead down to full, gorgeous lips. he couldn't even think about her body. he liked everything about this girl and acting like he didn't wasn't possible.

his hand moved to the small of her back, fingertips splayed as he kept her body against his. "you hungry?" imani nodded her head, her hands braced against his shoulders. jameson moved them side to side, swaying even though there was no music playing. "i got you. let me take care of you."

they ate dinner in the museum, specially made by a private chef --totally surrounded by art. jameson was pleased to see that she was excited. he was just as giddy. imani sat on his lap as they traded stories about work, their inspirations, and what they each wanted out of a relationship. they found they had several things in common -- big things and little things. family relationships, foods, even their favorite Disney movie. it was all the same. jameson wasn't the type to believe in love at first sight but he really did start to wonder if god put this woman in his life for a reason.

they left holding hands. he let her slide into his benz, intent on driving her home to complete an evening of being the perfect gentleman. the drive to her malibu home was filled with jokes, conversation, and singing along to songs on the radio. the tension between them remained but it was joined by comfort. they were truly starting to understand each other.

by the time they arrived to her place, he had made up his mind. he was going to give it all he had. he liked imani st. cirie -- and hopefully, she liked him too.

the warmth of the car enveloped them as jameson slid to a stop in front of her home. the chemistry between them made saying goodbye difficult. he didn't want to say goodnight to her. jameson turned the car off, attempting to gather his thoughts. he didn't want the last thing he said to her to be stupid. when he turned to say something -- he found imani was already staring.

it was like they moved at the same time. he unbuckled his seatbelt and before he could say a word, she had done the same. the world outside faded away as he damn near crowded her in the passenger seat. he could feel her heart race, each beat echoing in his head. he leaned in, their lips meeting briefly, before he heard her panting.

the kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if they were both savoring the sweetness of their new attraction. But soon, it deepened—hunger replaced hesitation. their lips moved in a rhythm that felt both familiar and foreign, pulling them deeper into each other's orbit.

imani moaned as his tongue found hers and jameson couldn't believe how good it sounded. he placed his hand against her thigh, grasping tightly as if he could pull her any closer. the middle console kept them further apart than he wanted them to be. when her hand came down and pulled his fingers higher up her thigh, jameson didn't hesitate.

her hands framed his face, thumb gently brushing his cheek as they kissed. his hand moved further up her thigh, brushing against the silk fabric of her dress. when the pad of his thumb brushed against her panties, she gasped.

it felt like an eternity before she caught her breath and gave him a quick moan. with expertise, jameson swept her underwear aside and pressed his thumb between her folds. she was already wet and made it easy for him to wedge his finger into her. imani's lips parted in surprise when he pressed against her. jameson took the opportunity to bite her lower lip -- brushing his tongue against it as her thighs tightened around his hand.

"i can't make you moan like that again if you don't keep your legs open. let me in." he whispered when he released her lip, pleased when imani immediately opened her legs for him. she reached down and pulled her dress higher, hips rising from the seat as she did so. he caught a flash of the thongs she wore as she pressed her ass to his leather seats.

they were both breathless, not taking the time to go inside her house or even move to the back seat. imani reached for him again, pulling his head across the space and kissing him deeply as jameson's hand went right back between her legs. she whimpered and moaned as he played with her clit -- teasing them both by thumbing and then circling the sensitive spot. by the time she was whining against his mouth, his dick was hard.

to his surprise, imani reached across the seat and placed her hand in his lap. the surprise spurred his fingers forward. his index and middle finger were soaking in her wetness as his thumb tapped her clit. imani's head fell back as he hissed, breaking the kiss to shake his head. "let me focus on you."

mani didn't pull her hand away. instead, she grasped his dick -- squeezing gently as her hips rocked onto his fingers. they slid in and out effortlessly. jameson twisted and delved deeply, pulling a variety of noises from the back of imani's throat. "she talkin' to me, mani." he prompted her. she groaned, riding his hand as quickly as she could. "you hear her? i bet i can make her talk some more."

the squelching and squishing echoed through the car. his palm and other fingers were soaked as the wetness ran down his hand. imani nodded her head, breath catching in her throat as he twisted his fingers and looked for that spot -- that one spot that he knew would have her screeching within the confines of his car. when he found it, she froze -- her whole body slumping back against the seat. "yes! y-yeah. just like that." she cried. jameson followed her, watching her face as he picked up the pace. he spread her juices across her clit with his thumb. when she shut her legs around his hand again, he used his free hand to grasp her thigh. "don't run from it. let me have it."

there he was, leaning over the center console, doing his best to make her cum less than an hour after their first date had ended. he kissed her lips gently, moaning with her as she shuddered. "i--i'm--cum" she whispered, words escaping her as she struggled to give him just three. "i know, baby. i feel it. let go. i got you."

jameson nodded, licking his tongue against her quivering lips. she opened her mouth for more and he sucked her tongue into his mouth, kissing her deeply as imani came around his fingers. she squeezed him tightly but he didn't stop. those two fingers kept thrusting, thumb kept flicking at her clit until she squirmed out of his grasp. her hand moving from his lap to grasp at his wrist. he was hard as fuck, eight and a half inches practically throbbing in his boxer briefs as he tried not to nut on himself.

he forced himself to slow down then -- pleased when she whimpered and asked for more kisses. jameson supplied them happily, stroking her insides with his fingers to calm her down. when she was sated and humming happily against his mouth, he pulled his hand back. they watched each other for a moment -- imani blinked at him as he licked his fingers clean.

jameson's gaze swept down her body as if he wanted to remember her just like that -- legs open, panties pushed aside, pussy wet and satisfied from his efforts. once his hand was 'clean', jameson reached over again and righted her clothing. imani still hadn't said a word. even when he opened his door to get out of the car. when he opened her door, he offered her his hand -- the same one he'd used to get her off.

imani took it and exited the car. she didn't seem to be in a daze anymore. "this was...a wonderful date." she told him softly. "i wonder what you'll come up with next time." before jameson could say a word, she pressed her hand to his chest and lifted her head to give him a kiss. he accepted it happily, greedily even. they stood like that for a moment, kissing on the sidewalk. his arms wrapped around her waist, fingertips finding their way to that delicious ass. jameson squeezed briefly and imani broke the kiss. "call me." she told him with a smirk before walking away.

he didn't know if she smirked because she could feel how hard his dick was when she kissed him or if she knew that he was going to call her as soon as he got in the car. either way -- he was pretty sure that this girl was going to be the death of him.

her best friend sat across the room, sketching designs for her portfolio. if she wasn't so distracted, she would have noticed imani scrolling through her texts. she had unblocked jameson and found a flurry of text messages.

how are you? i miss you. can we talk? baby, i think we need sit down and talk this shit out. i love you, imani. i'm not fighting it anymore. please call me

how is it that he made her want to forgive him? it was like when they were talking or when he was in front of her -- she forgot the horrible shit he had done. she forgot the affair, she forgot the way he confessed. she forgot the way he only seemed to give his all when he felt like she was moving on from him. she hated the way he infiltrated her mind when she was with someone new. it seemed like she was doomed to keep falling for jameson -- and the thought scared her.

"just do it. you know you want to."

imani's gaze shot up from the phone to see genie peering over at her from her drawing table. despite being gorgeous enough to be a model, genie adesanya preferred to design the clothes. her curls were pinned to the top of her head and the glasses she wore were circular -- making her eyes appear even larger and more adorable.

she was southern by birth but her father was a lakers legend. a jersey-hanging-in-the-rafters-at-staples-center kind of legend. everybody loved genie. even jameson. she and he had practically been raised together when his mother and her father spent a few years dating but ultimately decided to remain friends. as close as they were, once imani stepped onto the scene -- she and genie became best friends. she took her side over jameson's. always. despite being total opposites persona wise, nobody understood imani better than genie did.

"he's blocked so i do not want to do anything." imani retorted, wrinkling her nose at her friend. she didn't bother to deny that they weren't talking about jameson.

genie got up from her drawing desk, smiling at imani as she made her way across the room and bounced down onto her friend's lap. imani quickly shoved her off with a snort and the two ended up slap boxing each other. "don't lie to me, girl!" genie yelled at her, avoiding imani's hands as she rolled off the couch and onto the floor. "you've been moping and sighing around here all week. you hiding from him?"

of course she was. jameson knew where genie lived but imani hoped that if he approached her there, genie wouldn't let them sneak off together. she was sick of falling into the same pattern with him. fight, break up, fuck, fall in love again. wash, rinse, and repeat. "i'm tired of this shit with him, genie." imani admitted, sighing softly.

genie sat up and pat her hand against imani's. "i know. but...the heart wants what it wants, mani. i'm not saying you should listen to me. i'm bad at love. I've made so many mistakes. but i can see what you really want. i know you. it's why i know jameson has lived in your head rent free for years, girl. and you live in his. i'm not saying you gotta trust him immediately. just -- just text him back. maybe it's a mistake but what if it isn't? what if y'all get it right this time?"

a true romantic at heart, imani admired genie's belief in love. she just wasn't sure she trusted it. she remained silent as genie gave her time to process. she returned to her drawing table, picking up the pencil and finishing her sketches in silence.

imani fiddled with her phone for a moment before groaning out loud. if this man broke her heart again, she was going to fucking kill him.

[ imani ] : what are you doing next week? [ blockdt unless horny ] : nothing. you want me? [ imani ] : i guess we can talk then. [ blockdt unless horny ] : why wait until then? wya? i can come there. [ imani ] : i'm at genie's but don't come here. [ blockdt unless horny ] : why not? [ imani ] : i need a minute, jamie. i didn't expect this and i don't know if this is the right decision for me. [ blockdt unless horny ] : i understand. i do. but baby, you and me have something. i fucked it up before but i'm not gonna fuck it again. i can't lose it twice. [ imani ] : we can talk about it next week. [ blockdt unless horny ] : okay. what day? [ imani ] : Thursday. i'll be back from Italy then. [ jamie ] : i already miss you. [ imani ] : i'll miss you too 🙄 [ jamie ] : lmfao i'll take that. i'ma do right this time, mani. i swear on my life. [ imani ] : we'll see. [ jamie ] : yes, we will. i try not to make mistakes but when i do, i only make them once. i'll be the man you deserve. i promise. [ imani ] : i really want to believe you [ jamie ] : we can start there, baby. that's a start.

#aaron pierre #aaron pierre fanfic #megan thee stallion #megan thee stallion fanfic #aaron pierre x black!oc #megan thee stallion x black!oc #x fem reader #celebrity fanfiction #celebrity fanfic #smut #mature fanfic #fic: neon lights #fem!reader #oc fanfiction #original characters

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thoughtsfromlayla · 11 months ago

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Love and Loss

Summary: Despite being married for centuries, the two lovers have yet to produce an heir. Desperate for a child, she makes a deal with Phanes, God of Life, unbeknownst to her that motherhood has its own complications much like love and marriage. Now she must find a way to save both her child and her love.

Notes: ~11k words, only lightly edited... so yeah. Also, this is my first time posting any of my writing so I'm nervous as fuuuuck. I keep switching between past and present tense but I think I caught them all but idk. Let me know if I miss any tags or warnings! (There's so many plot holes but shhhh)

Warnings: MDNI - 18+ content, one use of Y/N but written in 3rd person, Reader has a "name" that's only used twice, pregnancy, loss of pregnancy, metaphorical use of surrogation, usage of miscarriage themes, jealousy, P in V, oral (F! receiving), unprotected sex, jealous Dream but that's to be expected really, regency-esque, diverges from cannon

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Despite having been in the Dreaming for so long, its frigid air was something she could never get used to. The temperature always fixed itself somewhere between an unheated house on a winter’s day and a spring day in the shade. Despite her title in the realm, she always felt like a child walking to the kitchen late at night to grab a snack whenever she meanders into the great hall.

The castle of the Dreaming was her home, and she was the owner in every right as her husband. A small black cat accompanies her, its green collar and bell jingle with each step in its preppy trot. Her Lady wore simple garments, a dark green dress with slits to match her feline friend. Its light-weight fabric billows around her with a breeze that never seems to stop and some golden jewelry decorated her neck and arms, all gifts from his Lord. She opted to walk barefoot, skin to soil, so as not to hurt her feet necessarily before the upcoming dinner the Dreaming would host later today—the idea her own entirely that her husband agreed to for her sake.

Her legs move her toward the throne room, where she is certain her husband presides. Still, her feet are cold and thus she picks up the pace. Her steps are lighthearted as she prances on her tiptoes, heels dangling from her fingers.

Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, King of the Nightmare Realms, Prince of Stories. She was sure there were more, but if she were to start listing them all in her head, she’d be stuck there all day. Morpheus was as old as humanity itself, perhaps even older. But as she sees him spread out on his throne, the air of authority is never questioned. Age has only made him more intimidating.

Morpheus commands any space he enters. His shadow fills each nook and cranny it seemed fit, aura chilling and distant. Yet he himself was a beautiful creature indeed. His modern form molded himself into a lean body, distinct muscle lines, and a strong jaw. His dark hair always looked tousled as if he had rolled out of bed a mere minute ago, and despite how often she would run her hair through the silky strands, they never behaved as they should have.

“Wife, mine,” Morpheus greets as she nears the bottom of the stairs. “What ails you to seek me out?”

The Lady smiles and gives a small curtsy before she ascends the curved stairs. “Nothing ails me, my lord. Must one have a reason to see her husband?”

Morpheus lets out an entertained breath before opening his arms in invitation. Another graceful smile appears on her lips as she sits comfortably in his lap, his arms encircling her.

“No, I suppose not,” He replies. He watches as she makes herself as comfortable as she can, leaning her head on his shoulder in a way that wouldn’t mess up her hair. The handmaidens would not stop fussing over it if a single strand was out of place from their original design.

“I simply wish to spend some time with you before our feast. I fear that I will be whisked away as I entertain guests for the evening.” She closes her eyes and steadies herself on the patterned breathing of her husband.

“I will stay by your side if you so command it,” Morpheus says. He runs his thumb in circles on her bare shoulder.

“And have everyone afraid to approach me? With your dark and brooding act?” She jests, her eyes opening briefly to look into his.

He can’t help his eyes rolling at her slight tease. “As you wish, my love.”

The two lovers sit for a moment. The sounds of her cat purring and their breaths mingling fill the air. But serenity such as this never lasts long in a castle like theirs. Lucienne comes from a hallway, presumably, the library’s, dressed up as well. Her coat was tailored to fit her body, her shoes freshly shined, and her glasses cleaned.

She gives a curt bow to the two sovereigns. “My lord, my lady,” She addresses. “The guests will be arriving soon.”

“Thank you, Lucienne,” Her lady says. She reluctantly releases herself from the warmth of her husband and uses the throne as a brace to put on her shoes. Her husband’s hand rests on the small of her back to further assist her.

“I will see you very soon, my king,” She says leaning down to peck his cheek before descending the stairs. She looks back once with another smile and then follows Lucienne to greet the arriving guests.

Morpheus’s eyes watch her figure until she turns a corner. He was still underdressed, his day previously preoccupied with trying to find a certain nightmare. He was simply idling on his throne in a simple black attire with his long coat. After all, a king need not worry about how he looks if he commands respect without golden bribes. With a wave of his hand, sand befalls him and covers him like ivy to a broken wall. When they recede he is dawning a tight button-up undershirt and vest, its fabric weaved with intrinsic cloud-like designs. His coat is now replaced with another of a similar shape and design but resembles cotton instead of the original felt. He fastens the raven cufflinks and smooths down his pants before rising from his throne and going to the Dreaming’s castle garden.

When Morpheus enters the gardens he immediately spots his wife at the entrance, standing underneath a pergola of purple wisterias and climbing hydrangeas. The flowers slowly lean towards the goddess as her presence fuels them by simple proximity. Her cat is nowhere to be seen and probably ran off into the gardens after a rodent caught his eye.

Morpheus slides up beside his wife as she greets the last of the guests arriving. He turns his head towards the decorated table and can see a great spread of gods, goddesses, fairies, nymphs, and other mystical creatures that his wife had managed to befriend—the feeling of her arm wrapping around his redirects his attention.

“Shall we, lord husband?” She gives him another one of her smiles and he understands how the hanging flowers feel. How he had ever lived without her before was still a mystery to him. To be him without her, it is like the Earth without its Sun - and he wishes to always feel the gravitational pull of her love.

Morpheus leads them towards the aggregation of guests, all of whom devote their attention to them.

“Beloved guests,” His wife starts speaking in her nectar-like tone, “Despite what is currently happening in the waking world, we are pleased that you could make time and attend this wondrous dinner.”

The goddess pauses for a brief moment as her guests clap in agreement. When they stop, she continues. “The feast is served buffet style, please eat and enjoy yourself to the fullest content. The Dreaming is here for your convenience.”

With her open palm, a long table appears with dishes of all types. Wreaths and fresh flowers decorate any empty space, which is to say, not much. Lambs, beef, and several types of poultry and fish take centerpieces along the table. Fruits, vegetables, and freshly baked bread weave in between the large plates as palate cleansers and small plates appear on the very corners of the table. A satisfied smile appeared on Her Lady’s face as the guests began grabbing food.

As the dust settles and smaller niches of guests start grouping, Morpheus is displeased when his wife leaves his side to mingle amongst the other gods. He watches from the shadows, small fruit plate in hand, glooming as she smiles with her guests. A hand comes up to hide her mouth as she laughs at something Phanes, God of Life, said. Jealousy brews and grows bitter like spoiled milk.

Morpheus stands, ready to come to his wife’s side in hopes of deterring the god, but before he can a nymph comes forward and gives an exaggerated curtsy. He can’t help the slight roll of his eyes as she begins to talk him up. The nymph’s voice carries a small lithe to it and he becomes unfocused, only noticing the movement of his wife’s green dress and Phanes walking off into the hedge labyrinth.

A frown etches itself onto his face. The nymph choosing to ignore the frown finds the courage to lift a mossy hand to caress his coat’s lapel, to which the Endless notices. Morpheus looks down at the nymph, his hand tightly grabbing into her wrist and dropping it away from him.

“Do not presume you may touch me, insolent child.” His voice is deep and grave as his frown deepens.

The nymph’s face contorted into embarrassment as red poppies boom across her cheeks and ears. She briskly walks away, forgetting to curtsy, with her tail tucked between her legs. The forest nymph looks forward to the next time she meets the Dream King, but she does not know that this will be the last time the doors of the Dreaming will open to her.

Dream makes a beeline towards the hedge labyrinth, taking a right turn as he had witnessed his wife doing moments ago. But, as something as lucid as the Dreaming, the labyrinth path twists and turns in new ways each moment. Morpheus turns left and right based on where he could feel his wife’s presence, but seems that she does not want to be found.

As a deity in her own right, should she so command it, she would not be found. Something that the Endless found infuriating at the moment. What could she possibly be doing with Phanes? Did she invite him for a personal reason? Was the dinner event a ruse so she could speak with him without raising any questions? Well, Morpheus surely was starting to ask questions.

Jealously turned into guilt quickly like the crack of a lightning bolt. Has he not been a good husband? Was she getting bored of their marriage? It has been several centuries, after all. Guilt turned into sadness as the questions he asked started bringing down his spirit. Surely there is something he can do to make her happy again. Surely she is faithful, surely, surely, surely…

Morpheus stands still, the drive to find his wife lost. The hedge leaves shiver as the temperature grows colder from the king’s mood. The lovely sunset leaves the last of its warmth before disappearing, leaving the sky full of stars. He turns around and retraces his steps, if his wife does not want to be found, he will grant her this wish.

Morpheus would never admit to anyone that he mopes. But with his sluggish walk and downturned lips, he clearly was. He sees his wife had made it out of the labyrinth quite some time ago and is already waving her guests goodbye, Phanes nowhere in sight. When she sees him emerging from the hedges, she perks up and excuses herself from her conversation.

“Dear husband, where did you run off to? Too many people in your presence?” She jokes, latching herself onto his arm.

“I was merely looking for you,” Morpheous murmurs. He starts walking with her back to the castle.

He waits as his wife takes a pause, slowing down in step. “You followed me into the labyrinths?”

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting her to say, but it certainly wasn’t that.

“Yes…” He draws out, trying to tread lightly, hoping that she would open up without much prompting. “I saw you and Phanes entering together.”

An amused huff escapes her. “I see.”

The silence lingers like the plague: uncomfortable and heavy in the air.

“Will you not speak as to why?” He questions and he almost hates how desperate he sounds.

The lady takes a seat on his throne, only to lean down and take off her shoes with a satisfied sigh. She rubs the ankles of her foot when she speaks again. “I believe it to be a personal matter.”

The answer was vague, and Morpheous hated it. Angry, gray storm clouds formed overhead and the ice-cold rain started to hit the stained glass behind her.

“Am I not worth sharing with?” He asks again, but he doesn’t stop to let her answer. With her eyes wide in surprise, he continues. “Am I not good enough? Faithful enough? Am I not devoted enough to you, my love? Will you command me to beg on my knees, I shall if you so ask.”

He falls to his knees before her and runs his hands from her ankle to her knee, slowly, deliberately. His lips follow soon after, tracing the same path his fingers had. Her breath hitches and her hearts start beating faster.

“How can I show my devotion to you, my love?” He kisses.

“My wife?” He kisses again.

“My forever goddess?” And again.

“Morpheus,” She breathes out, and it’s all he ever wants to hear. She is all he ever wants to breathe and all he wants to taste.

“I pray to Daleena, Goddess of Husbandry, for forgiveness. I have left my wife unsatisfied and feel the crop of our love withered. I shall repent for my sins by your guidance.” Morpheus says in a hushed tone as he slowly inches higher on her leg.

The goddess feels power surge through her as the prayer leaves her husband's lips, and she craves the touch of them on her own. Heat pools between her legs as her husband’s breath fans across her lower regions. Her dress slits exposed her legs deliciously to Morpheous but there were still her undergarments, which he removed slowly, keeping contact with her silky skin as it slid down.

Her Lady looks down at him with uneven breaths and waits for him to give her what she wants. Morpheus, however, is patient. He traces his lips higher, he kisses all the spots she wants, but not where she needs it the most.

“Morpheus,” She pleads, and it is all he needs. One moment it is the cold air of the Dreaming and the next it is the warmth of his lips, tongue languishing the length of her slit.

She jerks in place, strong hands holding down her hips. Her own hands shoot out, desperate to grab onto anything. One, bear-clawed and desperate, on the arm of the throne and the other weaving itself into the silky strands of her husband. She gasps at the wet sensation and her head is thrown back in pleasure.

The Endless is unmovable, driven solely by the purpose of satisfying his wife. A low groan emits from deep in his throat at the unapologetic sounds she cries, babbling in a series of his name and other obscenities. He tilts his head higher until he finds her clit and relishes in the pain of her nails in his hair, lapping at her arousal with contentment until it drips down his chin. He is a starved man and she is his salvation.

Morpheus continues his demonstrations, alternating between her clit and her needy cunt. She clenches her thighs hard as she feels the impending rise of her orgasm. Her fingertips buzz with excitement as he continues to ravish her sensitive clit. His pace continues, and her eyes roll to the back of her head.

She calls out his name again, and a high-pitched whine leaves her lips as he easily adds two digits into her weeping hole. He moves them slowly, slightly curved to touch that delicious spot inside her that has her arching her back taught like a bow. From below, Morpheus looks at her through his lashes, and he can’t help the smirk that tugs on his lips as his wife tries to thrash from the sensations. She tightens around him, cunt pulsing sporadically, and he is flooded with her orgasm where he drinks greedily from the taste - sweet like a plentiful summer wine.

He places a final gentle kiss on her clit before looking at her again, the skin of her extremities glowing ethereally as she tries to control her ragged breaths. She is still in the midst of her orgasm, trying to calm herself from the high and he finds it the perfect time to leave a bruising hickey on the inside of her plush thighs. Morpheus gets up, dick painfully hard as it brushes against his pants. He takes hold of her hands to help her stand on wobbly legs and leans back.

He leans until he falls, through the throne room floor and then onto the plushness of their shared bed. His command dematerializes both of their clothes and he basks in the sticky warmth of his wife on top of him. He runs light fingers down her spine, shivers following behind like a loyal companion, whispering sweet nothings into her ears.

“Come back to me,” He murmurs, kissing her sweat-filled brow.

“Hmm,” The goddess exhales after a few more seconds of silence, eyes opening languishingly, lashes tickling the skin of her husband.

She looks around the dimly lit room for a moment before realizing that she is in their bed. Using her husband’s chest, she props herself up, effectively straddling him beneath her. Morpheus remains unmoving, ignoring the way his tip brushes against her lower lips, only messaging the meat of her hips with his thumb.

When she meets his eyes again, he speaks. “Have I proven myself, dear wife?”

It takes a moment for the goddess to remember what he was talking about and her feelings crash down again. “You had never needed to prove yourself to me, Morpheus. What happened between me and Phanes will remain between me and Phanes.”

She lifts herself on sore thighs, but can’t get far as gentle hands turn rough. The next moment, she is lying down with her husband looming over her. There was not enough light to illuminate his face, leaving only the impression of his merciless, mercury eyes. Deep down, she knows no harm will ever befall her, but in this moment, something primal presents itself.

Perhaps it is how his eyes bore into her very soul, to the very moment she was born several millennia ago. Or perhaps, she was just crazy about how his touch was driving her mad. She was very aware of the appendage that settled between the two of them and the way that her slick was coating it. His hands cup her cheek and slide down her neck and her head tilts back at the ticklish and yet pleasurable sensation. She swallows thickly and a broken sigh escapes her as his hand ghosts over her nipple.

Shivers bloom once more as his mouth incloses over the perk nipple, suckling at it in a way that has her legs wrapping around his waist. Her arms come up and snake over his shoulders, fingers gliding over the smooth marble-like skin, then resting behind his neck. One of her hands finds itself back into his hair, clenching as he gives continuous pleasure to her body.

Her hips buck up, her pussy clenching down on nothing. Cold fingers glide down the center of her stomach, going lower and lower until they cup her heat. A thumb gently circles her clit, understanding the overstimulation it recently received. They trace over her outer lips, downwards, then upwards again, coating themselves with a mixture of spit and arousal.

Morpheus removes himself from her breasts and presses his lips at the junction between her neck and shoulder. He licks at the sweat that accumulates on her collarbone and continues up her neck. When he faces her again, he speaks.

“Beg for it.” He commands.

Her Lady remains silent, slowly chewing on the inside of her lip, weighing the options in her head. Morpheus, as always, is patient and he continues running his fingers between her folds, keeping his pace but occasionally rubbing his pointer finger in circles around her clit. When she realizes that he really would just keep rubbing her and nothing else, she opens her mouth.

“P-please,” She stutters, the mere idea of begging or pleading foreign on her tongue. As a goddess, one would never allow such lowly behavior. Nevertheless how her husband will give her whatever she asks for.

Morpheus hums in approval, removing his hand to hold his dick instead. He rubs it this time in lieu of his fingers around her cunt and the goddess almost begs again. Before she can, a moan releases from both of them as he inserts himself into her and she whimpers at the familiar dull ache of being stretched out. Morpheus dips his head between her neck and shoulder again and remains stiff, feeling the warmth that only his wife can provide.

He pulls out and she mews beneath him in pleasure, ushering him to fill her up once again. Her cunt sucks him back and he wraps one of his arms underneath her waist to ground him. The other slams against the headboard of the bed, and he grabs on for all he is worth. His thrusts grow harder as her cries grow louder and he feels the way she clenches down on him.

“How divine you are, my love,” He says with a shaky breath, kissing more bruising hickeys that he hopes will last for millennia. He blows cold air over them and goosebumps rise in place, her back arching again and he can feel each perk nipple rubbing against his chest.

She moans his name again, losing herself in each drag of his cock, screaming curses when the head brushes against her sensitive spot, and whimpering when it kisses her cervix. Morpheus rises, looking down on his wife with half-lidded eyes, running a hand down between the valley of her breasts, feeling each desperate breath of air. He goes lower and groans when he sees how the two of them are connected.

Each thrust creates an unholy, slick noise and he can see the inflamed clit begging for attention. He presses his fingers on her lower stomach and she cries out for him.

“Can you feel me, my Queen?” He growls down at her, feeling the way his dick moves within her.

“Yes!” She cries back, her brows furrow and her cunt pulses around him, gripping him like a vice.

“Do you love me, my Queen?” He asks again.

“Yes!” She cries again. She starts begging again. Please, please, please, please. “Don’t stop, please my King. Please, don’t stop!”

“Will you tell me why you spoke with Phanes?” His last question.

Her eyes snap open, all the build up from her orgasm lost in the question. With her legs still around his waist, she twists her hips and topples Morpheus over until he is beneath her again.

“No,” She whispers, rocking her hips back and forth to regain the momentum they had lost.

This time, it is him who pleads. “Please,” He whispers back. His hands cup at the roundness of her ass cheeks, loving how soft they were.

She increases the ferocity of her grinds, looking down at her husband like he had just done with her. His head tosses back and she loves watching his Adam’s apple slide up and down his throat as he moans for her. His eyes are squeezed shut and his grip tightens but she doesn’t relent.

That familiar searing hot feeling appears again in her lower stomach and with one final grind she releases her orgasm all over him, falling onto his heaving chest. Morpheus cums right after, shooting his release into her in hot loads and she feels each jolt inside of her.

Her orgasm rocks through her body, feeling both too hot and too cold at the same time. It tingles in her fingers and toes and when she closes her eyes, she sees the stars of the Dreaming shinging back at her. When she comes back to her senses (again) she can feel her husband’s hand running through her bed hair, untangling it as much as he could with the one hand. The other hand holds her waist flush with his. The two lovers share a quiet moment after their throw of passion before she speaks again.

“Phanes and I…” She starts, and she can feel Morpheus stiffen under her. She groans as his cock is still deep in her, semi-hard and the only thing keeping them together.

She shifts a bit and some of their combined release pool down onto his abdomen. He would never admit to her how filthy he thought it was, nor the fact that he loved it all the same.

“Yes?” Morpheus urges, looking down at her on his chest with full attention.

“We made a deal.” She finishes her sentence.

Everything stops as Morpheus sits up. “What deal did you strike? I can do it instead, terminate the deal at once, my love.” He says with anxiety.

His wife grabs onto him as she is rocked back and a smile appears on her face. “Morpheus, my love, you have done your part.” Her smile turns sad and a forlorn look cloaks her face and she casts her gaze downwards. “We just needed some extra help.”

A confused look crosses Morpheus’s face. He brings a hand to lift her chin to look at him. With the raise of an eyebrow, he doesn’t have to say anything for his wife to know he wants a better explanation.

“I asked for a child, Morpheus.”

When her husband remains quiet, her lips start to tug downwards and his heart lurches at the sight. Her waterline soon floods with tears.

“We have not been able to produce an heir once.” She says, voice wavering. She dares not to blink for she is afraid if a single tear were to fall, all of them would.

“What in return?” He asks.

“I look after his pet snake for a weekend.” She replies simply. Morpheus has returned to his previous position.

The tears start to fall, each fat drop hitting his skin seemingly striking him directly in the heart. “You need not worry, wife. This time it will take, with Phanes’s help or not.” He whispers into the crown of her head.

She nods once, sniffling as her nose starts to run, too. The rhythmic breathing below her and the continued brushing of her hair rocks her to a dreamless sleep. Morpheus wraps his arms protectively around her frame and should he have known, he would’ve stayed longer. He would’ve held her tighter, kissed her longer, and promised her that he would be there when she woke. Alas, there was a missing nightmare, rampaging through the waking world, something that was his responsibility as king.

When she wakes up the next morning, with a satisfying ache throughout her body, the bed was cold and empty, and her husband was nowhere to be seen. To say that this was new behavior would be a lie, unfortunately. The number of times that a night of passionate love-making ended in a cold and lonely morning was more than she could count on her fingers and toes. That isn’t to say that Morpheus didn’t want to stay in bed with her, it’s simply a sovereign that understands his responsibilities, and she could never blame her husband for that.

Avoiding the difficult conversation the two lovers shared last night, her Lady avoids the locations her husband is most likely to reside in. Instead, she chooses to look towards her duties in the Dreaming. She finds herself amongst a simple dream from a small farmer who looks after sheep, who struggles with getting their weight to increase during the harsh winters. Carefully, she admits herself to him, dressed in a light yellow dress, sunflowers decorating the fabric and her hair. Her hands were covered in dirt, and she held a shepherd’s crook that had a bell attached to the end.

The farmer looks up from his rocking chair, prized sheep chewing lazily around him, and smoke from his pipe circles him. His face was rough - old and wrinkled from long days in the sun during his youth. But she smiles gently at him when his laugh lines appear around the edges of his eyes and mouth.

She stands next to him and they stare out on his flock together. He shares his life story. The story of a young boy whose father was also a farmer, and his father before him, and his father before him. He talks about his first puppy, named Barkly, his first love, whom he lost after he was drafted into the First World War, and how he now finds solitude with his late wife’s grave and his grandchildren.

He mentions that he needs to fatten his sheep up for the winter as he can’t lose any more stock so he may afford medicine for his sick grandson. He confesses that he has tried everything and nothing seems to have worked. He looks up at her now, tired, and slumped over, and realization dawns on his face as she smiles down at him.

She whispers at him a simple solution, one he can’t quite hear over the muddle of a dream. He stands abruptly as her figure distorts, the dawn is rising and a farmer’s body rises with it. He thanks her - he offers a sheep for her, which she nods at before he wakes from his dream.

The goddess visits a few more dreams, each giving her ethereal presence. Some were like the one she was just at, some needed comfort from the loss of animals, and some dreamed of a new pet to have. By the 5th dream, she realizes that several days had passed in the waking world, and her husband was nowhere to be found.

She admits to herself that she had been avoiding him longer than she intends, but perhaps it was time to face him again. She teleports to the castle, summoning herself before the drawbridge of the magnificent building. The ivory dragon perks up at her arrival, but otherwise pays no attention to her, going back to hoarding its gold coins, a few of them falling when she crosses the large doors.

As always, the castle is slightly colder than what she likes. A small sense of deja vu encapsulates her as she walks to the all-familiar throne room. This time, however, it was empty. No figure on the throne, nor the stairs as he sometimes preferrs it. Odd, she thinks, but not impossible. So she turns a corner to the library, she often finds him here as well, looking over the books of his dreamers. She searches high and low, through each aisle and reading spot, but still nothing. Anxiety and thoughts of doubt begin to fill her. Perhaps she did mess up, making that deal with Phanes.

Her last stop was Cain and Able’s homes. She finds the two brothers in front of their own homes, tending to their garden and playing with the gargoyle that Morpheus had given them. The two were of no help as they were unable to answer something worthy of even a hint of where her husband was.

She rolls her eyes as the walk away from their homes was accompanied by the sound of a scream and the resolute bang of a metal shovel hitting a skull.

As her last resort, she calls for Lucienne. Often, she hopes to never bother her, understanding that the work she puts into maintaining the Dreaming is never-ending. And, she knew that if she were to ask something of her, Lucienne would stop everything to help her.

“His Lord left several nights ago to fetch the Corinthian,” She spoke, pushing up her round glasses.

“And since then?” She questions, her hands wringing with themselves. She hopes for an answer she knows she won’t get.

Lucienne shakes her head no. “My Lady, Jessamy hasn’t returned either. Perhaps his Lord is simply taking longer than usual.”

“Let us hope,” She says defeated.

For the next few months, the goddess stays within the Dreaming. Each day that passes, more hope was lost for her husband's return. Doubt and anxiety cloud her mind at the uncertain future.

She looks down at her stomach, a distinguishable bump had made its appearance and she rubs it gently with her hand. The deal with Phanes went through, she is with child. She should be happy right? Except for the obvious fact that Morpheus still had not returned.

Her cat lounges at her feet where she sits and she pets its head. With a trill, it looks at her, similar mercury eyes of her husband stares back. She had no choice but to find him herself.

“Go,” She asks of it. “Go to the waking world, find Morpheus.”

The cat sits up and stretches, hind high in the air. Its claws grips into the plush carpet it rests on. With another stretch to its lower back, it trots off, the jingling sounds of its bell disappearing as it crosses over to the waking world.

All the goddess could do was wait and hope. She runs another anxious hand across her stomach and a tear escapes her.

Lucienne had mentioned it to her in passing a few days ago. The librarian stated that it probably was nothing to worry about, but the conversation had stuck with the goddess since.

The Dreaming is dying.

As much as the Dreaming is hers through marriage, it is suffering without its true ruler in the realm. She could see it in the dying leaves and small cracks of the castle. The ivory dragon that rests above the castle has gotten more restless in the past few weeks. And despite her best efforts to comfort the animal, the dragon did not listen to the Goddess of Husbandry.

This brings up a second concern of hers. The child she carries is as much a part of her as it is the Dreaming’s. It embodies a part of the Dream Lord and if the Dreaming is suffering, there stands to reason that her husband is suffering as well. If both of these entities are suffering, what is to happen to her child?

This child that she already loves until she is forgotten and nothing but stardust and she had been asking for centuries. This child that Morpheus is finally ready to love after the untimely death of his son. She must find Morpheus, and soon.

For the sake of the Dreaming and her child.

Several more weeks pass and her cat had yet to come back. She only hopes that it was due to the difficulty of finding an Endless and not because it got distracted with a family whose heart was big enough to take in a “stray” cat. Each day that passes, she grows significantly weaker. The prayers of her followers still ring in her ears, but she could not leave the Dreaming to help her devotees.

Another war broke out among the humans, the one they call World War II. Less and fewer people were crossing over into the dreaming and slowly, the once beautiful realm was losing its colors. The goddess couldn’t stop the residents of the realm from leaving its gates, the Dreaming was no longer a place they wished to stay. Furthermore, there weren’t enough dreamers for them to bother staying. She only remains thankful for those who decided to stay.

She sits on Morpheus’ throne, the castle colder than ever. Behind her, the once beautiful stained glass had shattered. The Corinthian had still not been captured, or else her husband would have been home and Fiddler’s Green had decided to leave. She runs a hand through her hair at the issues that seem to keep piling up. As she ignores her prayers, her powers start to wane. Fewer and fewer people were still believing in her.

And how could she blame them? She hasn’t made herself present in any of their prayers and with the war, people were less concerned about animals and more about themselves. She sighs.

A sharp pain yanks her out of her thoughts and a scream rips from her throat. She doubles over from the throne and kneels, hunching over on the floor. The pain spreads across her lower abdomen and a shaking hand holds her stomach. Immediately she knew something was wrong and it involved the safety of her child.

For a moment, she couldn’t breathe, too focused on staying conscious. The throne room was empty, her fall echoed around and bounced across the wide walls. When she thought the pain was over, she took in a large breath, inhaling shakily in gulps.

Salvation lasts a few seconds before another wave of pain overwhelms her. It wraps around her like a hot blanket on a sweltering day, sticking to her skin and making her overstimulated. Too much was happening at once and it was almost too hard to bear.

“Lucienne!” She screams between cramps. Tears fall in fat drops onto the floor and wets the hand propping her up.

Lucienne appears quickly, followed closely by Mervin. Hands grab at her weak body and hoist her back onto the throne. Where she had fallen, blood pooled and more fell from between her legs.

Her whole body shakes with shivers and a whimper leaves her.

“My Lady,” Lucienne says with concern. The librarian couldn’t stop from staring at the growing pool of blood below her.

“What do we do?” Mervin asks. Even though he was a glorified janitor, constructor, and destructor for the Dreaming, he didn’t know how to fix this.

“Call for Phanes,” Their Lady said weakly. Sweat begins to appear like morning dew across her forehead. For once, she was grateful for the cool temperature.

“Mervin, take her to his Lord’s chambers,” Lucienne instructs. She doesn’t stay to watch as she sprints to the library.

She flips through leather-bound books, old and new until she finds the correct summoning spell she was looking for. The loyal librarian could only hope that a god would listen to a dream like her.

She hauls the large book into the room her Lady lays in. Labored breathing came from both women, although for two vastly different reasons.

“Forgive me, my lady, but I require your assistance,” Lucienne said next to the goddess’ bed.

The goddess gives her a hand limply and Lucienne starts chanting the words on the page while holding her cold fingers. The wind whirls around them and Mervin holds onto his pumpkin head to not have it knocked off.

Lucienne finishes the spell and looks down. Her Lady was glowing with power but she could not have looked any more weak. Nothing happens for a few bated breaths, only the sound of howling wind around them. Then nothing, not even the sound of crickets could be heard.

Enters Phanes, golden and warm like the sun. He materializes in a cloud of golden dust. He slams his staff down, and his golden snake slithers up from under his robes.

“Who dares summon m-”

“Lord Phanes,” Lucienne interrupts, something she knows she would be punished for, if not for the more important matter at hand.

A glare is thrown her way and softens at the familiar face. Phanes’ eyes travel across the intertwined fingers and land on his friend.

Weak eyes open and meet his. The godly figure is almost too much to stare directly at.

As if understanding what was happening to his friend, he drops the golden light he had been shining. The Dreaming returns to its cold blue, and it was just two deities and two dreams in understanding.

“A new deal,” Phanes announces and the goddess wants to weep again. Judging by how her husband acted the last time she had done this, she was going to be doomed. But the decision was easily made.

“Anything,” she whispers. Her eyelids are starting to feel heavy. She had delivered countless calves, kittens, and cubs, but never another deity. Was she supposed to feel this weak?

Silky scales slide across her feverish skin and she is face to face with Phanes’ serpent.

“Give your child to him, he will keep them safe until they may come to fruition. Until then, you must look after the serpent as if it is of your blood.”

The goddess could barely pay attention but understood in a way without words. She nods in agreement and the relief begins almost immediately.

Pain seeps out of her body, slow, like molasses and her body starts to glow again. Lucienne shields her eyes and peeks through her fingers. The goddess’ stomach glows and deflates.

A small glowing ball releases itself from the warmth of her womb, its dim light is warm and lights the room like a lantern on a foggy night. A weak hand cups it and it sits in the palm of its mother.

“Hello, darling son,” She whispers. The ball stays still, a small high-pitched noise emitting from itself.

The goddess smiles. “Darling daughter, then?” This time, the ball bounces gently a few times in response but otherwise doesn’t do anything.

The golden serpent is slowly making its way up the arm that holds the glowing orb. A tongue flicks out and smells it. Then with a nod from the goddess, the serpent unhinges its mouth and swallows the child whole. The light shines through the crevices of its eyes and ears as it makes its way down the serpent's throat. Eventually, the light dissipates and the serpent looks all the same, save for the bulge in its stomach.

A sense of longing borrows itself into her chest where her heart lies. Quite literally, the light disappears right in front of her. Physically, her pain had been removed, only the dried blood between her legs reminded her of what had happened just moments prior. And yet, a dull pain resides. Something she couldn’t put her finger on, but she could feel it behind her eyes and how it lodges in her throat.

Her gaze is unfocused as she pets the golden snake, her golden snake now, her child. For the rest of the night, she rests and Phanes leaves without a word. Lucienne stays by her side the whole time, eyes only moving when the serpent shifts. Mervin went back to work after a few hours, the castle’s foundation still cracking under their feet. He left with a sorrowful look, well, as sorrowful as a pumpkin head could be.

As the sun rises the next day, the goddess wakes up to not only the snake by her side but the librarian and her long awaited cat. Lucienne wakes up at the first shift that her Lady makes and stands.

“Let me draw you a bath,” She said before any debate.

“Lucienne,” Her Lady calls after her anyway in rejection. All of her handmaidens had left. They were only there to help the goddess under the instruction of the Dream Lord who created them. Without him here, no one would punish them for leaving and not attending his wife.

Still, the librarian doesn’t listen and disappears into the joined bathroom. Meanwhile, the goddess looks down at her cat and raises an eyebrow. It has certainly gotten fatter. And a new name tag was attached to his collar next to his bell.

“Buttons,” She said out loud, reading the new name. At that, the cat perks up and stares back at her disappointed face. “You got distracted on your mission didn’t you?”

She pets his rounder stomach and scratches his head. “Well, they certainly loved you…” The hidden passive-aggressive message was evident.

The cat, now Buttons, doesn’t bother with a response. Instead, it lays back down, flicking its tail aggressively at her comment.

She rolls her eyes. “Did you locate his Lord?”

Buttons rolls onto his back and stretches, belly exposing to her, and opens his mouth in a yawn. “Burgess Manor,” He says and turns his body away from her.

Finally, an answer. She throws the blanket off her body and goes to stand. She looks at her closet, thinking of what to wear to the waking world to retrieve her husband.

“My Lady!” Lucienne exclaims as she walks out of the bathroom. The goddess looks over at her and notices her staring at her dress. She looks down as well and remembers all of the blood that she spilled last night. It had caked itself into the fabric and was still crusted on the inside of her legs.

The librarian’s shock was still on her face when she realizes that her Lady fully intends to go to the waking world looking like that, having overheard the conversation between her and the cat. Lucienne insists she take a bath first and that she would find something for her to wear.

Her Lady doesn’t disagree and disappears into the steaming bathtub that was made for her. She doesn’t regret it for a second the moment she steps in. The warmth was comforting like a mother huddling to keep its cub warm. The water washes away the filths of yesterday and within the embrace of the water, she finally cries.

It’s not a gentle cry, it is hiccups and gasping for breath. The pain of yesterday that she felt behind her eyes and in her throat spills out. Her bathwater which used to smell of apples and cinnamon now turns into a maroon as her blood washes out. It starts to smell of iron and salt and it reminds her of war.

Her hand runs over her stomach and a whimper leaves her again at the lack of the bump she had grown so accustomed to. Logically, she knows that her child, no her daughter, was safe. But, one would have to admit that having their daughter in the stomach of a serpent was a bit unnerving.

A golden head peaks at her over the side of the ceramic bathtub and flicks out its tongue.

She sniffs the last of her tears away and pets its head with her index finger. “I’m sorry for leaving you already, dear daughter.”

The serpent’s stomach had grown twice as large since last night and since this is new territory for her, she must make haste so she may be back in the dream to witness the birth of her daughter.

Before she left, though, she walks into the castle gardens and gets to work. From her fingertips she grows a birch tree, its white branches and muted green leaves fit right into the dying realm around them. She sprouts flowers and brushes for scenery and a bed made of straw under a tunnel that she dug out.

The golden serpent follows her and slithers up her body, wrapping around her curves. When its head was next to hers, it let out a rattling-like noise in agreement with the small open enclosure the goddess had made for it. It slides back down her body and makes it home in the tunnel.

“Mommy will be back,” She whispers to it when it settles in and gives it a quick peck on the top of its head. It flicks its tongue at her and moves further into its nest.

The goddess stands back up and dusts off any dirt that could have gotten on her dress. Lucienne helps her pick out an appropriate attire for the waking world. Something she wouldn’t personally wear, but it certainly helps to blend in with the mortals. She quickly had to locate her husband. After all, she has no idea how long it takes for a snake to incubate a child.

It was easy to find the Burgess Manor when she arrives in the waking world. Everyone who was anyone spoke about the grand magus who managed to capture the devil in his basement. That the devil had granted him eternal life and some other rumors. All she had to do was flaunt a smile and go where the fingers pointed.

The rumors, of course, were mere rumors. The devil? No. Without knowing it, Rodrick Burgess managed to capture something even more powerful. How he had managed to keep him captured was a different question entirely and the goddess had a sneaking suspicion that he had some help.

It was nightfall when she arrives at the gates of the manor. Thousands of people clamor in the front garden, talking amongst themselves. Suddenly, the clothing she had worn was not fit for the environment she was walking into. Using a little bit of her powers, she changes the outlook of her clothing into something else. It was a bit more formal, growing longer and softer to the touch. However, if someone were to squint and stare hard enough, they would be able to see the original dress she had worn.

She weaves her way to the front and listens carefully to the words around her.

“I had arrived this morning, my feet are killing me.”

“Ha, me as well. But anything to get into the manor. I want to see what the Great Magus is hiding.”

“Not to mention the party of your lifetime!” They joke together.

Someone taps her on her shoulder. Another young man was waiting to be let in.

“You are a new face,” He comments and takes her hand. He presses his lips to the back of it. She takes her hand back and wipes it away on the back of her dress while keeping a smile.

“Yes, I wish to see the Great Magus himself.” She half-lies through her teeth. The young gentleman offers an arm to her which she reluctantly takes. Perhaps he will be the key to getting into the manor.

The doors of the manor open and people slowly trickle in. She peers over shoulders into the manor but couldn’t immediately find anything of note that would be dangerous. The warmth of the building fans over her as she enters through the large doors and a breath of relief escapes her.

“Isn’t it everything you could ever dream of?” The gentleman asks. He looks down at her with a smile.

She looks around, the manor was certainly lively. Foods of all kinds sprawl out on tables, fresh flowers almost too sweet to smell, and candlelight flickers and dances from the sudden wind. There were some party tricks as well, the flames seem to sparkle a bit more, bubbles were floating around in the air without popping, and the statues follows her with their eyes. But, they were all small party tricks, nothing to indicate this holier-than-thou man.

Through the buzz of it all, she could feel it. The string of fate that connects her to her husband. It was faint, but it was there and she knew she was in the right place. She just had to find out where.

A man emerges on the top of the stairs to the second floor and opens his arms in a flourish. She frowns at him because there he was, Rodrick Burgess, the man who took her husband. By the end of tonight, she promises herself, there will be no Rodrick Burgess.

“Ow, dang you’ve got a grip on you,” She breaks eye contact with Rodrick when her escort for the evening exclaims out. She releases the iron grip she had wrapped around his lower arm and apologizes.

“I am terribly sorry,” She apologizes. “Actually, I am parched, can you be a gentleman and fetch me some lemonade?” She bats her eyelashes and gives a smile. His face lights up in a blush and runs off to fetch her the lemonade she wants.

As soon as he was out of eyesight, the goddess began moving. She moves between bodies like wind on the beachfront - gracefully, wistfully, but with purpose. She uses her senses to locate where her husband could be. It was like an invisible dance.

When the sense weakens she backtracks, when it strengthens she moves forward. She was so lost in her quest that she almost did not register when she ran into a wool-covered chest. Surprise overtook her face as she looks up, ready to apologize and continue on her way. But she stops when she realizes that the man she bumps into is the very host of the party.

“Rodrick Burgess,” She says almost breathlessly. Oh, how she wants to commit a grievous crime to this mortal.

The old man chuckles above her and grabs onto her shoulders. His fingers are cold when they come into contact with her bare skin and she wants to cringe away from his touch, but he holds on strong.

“You seem like a curious creature, my little dove,” He comments and starts to walk. Without much room to budge, she is reluctant to follow him.

“Yes,” She drawls out much like how Morpheus tends to do. She suddenly acts with interest when she realizes that the bond strength between her and her husband increases. She holds on tighter and presses her body against his arm.

“I heard that the great Magus kept the devil in the basement of his manor. Can we see it?” She fakes a supple voice and looks up at him with an innocent smile.

“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think a small thing such as yourself would want to see the devil.”

“No!” She belts out, a bit too quickly. But she recovers smoothly. “What I mean to say is, I am far too excited to see him. Please don’t deny me this one pleasure Great Magus.”

“How loathsome,” She thinks to herself.

“Very well, I can’t deny you anything if you keep looking at me like that.” He confirms.

Rodrick Burgess leads her away from the party, down a long and quiet hallway. It is decorated with antique and rare collectibles. The older man talks about each one, dragging on his time that leads to her husband, but she nods along anyway.

She had waited decades to be in the arms of her husband again, a few more minutes surely wouldn’t hurt. Soon, she is led to a dark and demanding set of double doors. Locks and bolts seal it from top to bottom. With a nod of Rodrick’s head, the guards stationed outside open the door slowly and a cold air seeps out and blows her hair back. The basement smells musty of old water and stale air. A cough emits from further down the stairs and she frowns.

“Scared yet, child?” Rodrick says to her mockingly.

She only shakes her head no as she continues down the steps.

The smell grows stronger as she gets closer and she can also make out a small portion of dirt and sand amidst it all. Despite it, the air was crisp and cold, suitable for a stone basement.

A light emits from the end of the long staircase downwards and she can’t stop her jaw unhinging as she finally sets her eyes on her husband. Tears well up in her eyes as they dart across the room.

Arches supported the basement throughout the floor and a moat still separates between her and her husband. A singular fluorescent light is cast on him in a glass prison as if he were some circus animal on display. Below the glass prison were some sort of gold runic markings and even from far away, she could feel the real magic emitting from them.

Rodrick releases her hold on him and turns to the two guards on duty that night. “You two may go,” He instructs, and the two leave without debate.

At the sound of his voice, Dream opens his eyes but remains in his laid position. His gaze pierces into his corrupt heart, if he even had one left, but quickly notices his wife by his side. With this, he sits up and gently places a hand on the glass barrier.

“Would you look at that!” Rodrick boasts. “He moves, he doesn’t do that much. Perhaps he has feelings for a pretty thing like you.”

The goddess doesn’t hear him and walks up to the glass cage in a trance. How does she free him? Tears fall restlessly down her face and her stature dejects. She snaps out of her trances on the small bridge above the stagnant water when a rough hand squeezes her upper arms.

“Stop, you must not get any closer. He is trying to seduce you into releasing him!” Rodrick hashes out between gritted teeth.

She opens her mouth to tell him something, anything, to release her husband but stops when she hears Dream’s voice again.

“Wife,” He calls simply and her body fills with all of the love and adoration she had been missing for decades.

Rodrick’s grip tightens at his voice, the first time he remembers hearing it. With a shocked face, he looks down at the woman in his grip. “Wife?!” He screams at her furiously.

She takes a deep breath and steels herself, ripping herself away from his bruising grip, and stands between him and her husband. The tears had dried and only anger left in its wake.

“The one before you is Daleena, Goddess of Husbandry, Mother of Agriculture and Protector of Animals, Saint of Farmers, Queen of the Dreaming, wife of Dream of the Endless. You face me now, mortal.”

Wind swirls, somehow, in the basement but it is the least of Rodrick’s worries. He plants himself firmly as the wind picks up and sand envelops the two of them in a vortex of anger.

“I have captured something more than a god! I have an Endless!” He points a finger at her, eyes scrutinizing. “What makes you think you can defeat me? The Great Magus Rodrick Burgess?”

Walking a few steps forward, her shepherd’s crook materializes in her hand, the bell jingling violently in the wind. Her extremities start to glow their familiar light as she musters power. She points the staff at Rodrick as billets of wheat start growing around his feet and crawl up his legs, the nice wool of his pants long forgotten against the harsh stalks of the plants. The plants bloom as it sucks the life away from the very thing they grew on.

Rodrick starts chanting in Greek.

“Prostasía,” He chokes out. “Prostasía.” He chants again and he breathes easier. “Prostasía.” He chants one more time and he’s back to standing at his full height. The plants that were wrapped around him wither away and fell into dust, sucked into the sand vortex around them.

The goddess frowns, she did not realize how much power she had lost until now when a simple protection chant could stave off her attacks. Rodrick lunges at her, hands open and clawed, ready to grab onto any piece of her clothing. In turn, she slams her crook into the ground and a fissure opens up, but not before he can shove her further and her body slams into the wall of the glass prison. The fissure separates the two opponents away from each other and Rodrick steps back before he falls into the Earth.

She braces herself on the glass wall at the impact and loses her breath for a moment. She could feel the warmth of her husband’s hand and she turns away from Rodrick to look at him. His hand was aligned with her own, so close, only inches apart.

“The runes, my love,” Morpheus tells her. She looks down at looks at the graphics that surround them, the sand had erased some of it through the abrasive nature of itself. The magic within the runes would still be strong if not for the defiant smudge she creates with her foot, just in time for the fissure to finish opening. With a final look at her husband, she walks closer to the fissure, pulling the sand vortex smaller so it was just her and Rodrick again.

From the fissure glows a golden light, soft and merciful but quickly overshadowed by the growing dust. The light expands as the golden serpent which holds her daughter emerges. It had grown in size since the last time she had seen it. Its length and mass have nearly tripled in size and the baby bulge it used to flaunt was now merely a small bump.

Rodrick’s stare grows higher and higher as the snake continues to emerge, it stares at the man, tongue flicking angrily at him for daring to harm the goddess. The snake lunges, all fangs and dripping venom, its large scales clattering against each other like gold coins. Rodrick moves to the side and the serpent misses. It hisses in retaliation and comes around again, this time wrapping its body around the legs of the Great Magus.

Panic sets in as the serpent starts to constrict around the man and he can feel his pulse pounding against his head and the blood circulation gets cut off. The bones in his knees pop as they press together.

“Father!” A young boy’s voice screams across the vortex and the goddess sees a glint of silver cross into the vortex arena.

The serpent is halfway up Rodrick’s body when the goddess notices the sharp dagger that Rodrick now possesses. He rises it high in the air and with a large gasp plunges it into the flesh of the serpent. The golden scales provide little to no protection against the artifact.

“No!” She screams and takes a step forward, only to be stopped by the protective tail of the serpent.

The metal hisses as it melts against the golden scales, melting the scales together until they become smooth around the wound. Rodrick slides again and again until the weapon becomes too slippery with blood and he loses grip. The snake is now a mosaic of gold and red as it tightens one last time.

“Curse… you…” Rodrick strains out, his face turning purple as the last bit of air leaves him. The serpent weakens and falls in a slump like an inanimate rope and the sand around them falls like rain.

The goddess leaps over the fissure and after making sure the man is dead runs to the head of the golden serpent. Its eyes were dim, mouth agape as its muscles weakens and she can no longer feel it breathing on her skin when she places a hand above its nostrils.

“No, no no,” She mumbles to herself. She grabs her dress up and away from her feet as she makes her way down the length of the serpent. When she reaches where she last saw the small baby bump, she runs her hand along its underside, soon becoming slick with cooling blood.

She finds a particular cut that was deeper than normal and when she sticks her hand in there, they grab around a small appendage. A cry of relief leaves her lips as she digs deeper. She pulls her baby from the dying body and cradles it to her body. Golden scale imprints are decorated across her arms and legs and a few more along the spine of her back.

Her breath hiccups as silence fills the air. She pats her daughter’s back and wipes her mouth clean and panic seeps into her bones when still she remains quiet.

Morpheus appears behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. She turns to him, tears streaking down her neck.

“Crying, why-why isn’t she crying?!” She wails and clutches her child harder against her chest.

Morpheus hugs her from behind and holds the two of them to his chest.

“Y/N,” He calls her name, her real name. Not her titles, or what the mortals call her, but the name given to her since her creation.

She weeps into his form, salty tears mixing with blood and the amniotic fluid that covers her child. Her tears fall into her daughter’s mouth and feed into the child her grief, regret, and guilt as well as the hope she still had in her.

A soothing hand pets her and the silence disappears. Loud wailing comes from below and her eyes shoot open. Her daughter was finally crying, her hands in fists as they move around in the air.

“Praises,” She sobs again, this time tears of joy. Her child's eyes peel open and smiles as she grabs at her mother’s hair.

Morpheus smiles, a rare one, all teeth showing as he touches his daughter’s head gently. The three, now a family, return home to the Dreaming. There will be more to do, especially for Morpheus but for now, a small victory lies within the hope that is their daughter.

Extra:

“Well I’ll be baffled, bamboozled, and befuddled,” Phanes says, hands on his hip and his staff leaning against one of the walls of the basement.

He stares at his serpent covered in dried blood and dearly departed, lying alone on the cold basement floor.

“Look at how they massacred my boy!” He screams to no one in particular, arms out in disbelief.

He lets out a huff and crosses his arms. “I’ll let you borrow my snake, blah, blah, blah, take care of it like it’s your own, meh, meh, meh,” He mocks.

Phanes runs a hand across the top of the snake’s head and watches as the dried blood rehydrates and moves thickly back into the cuts. The gnashes done by the weapon stitch itself back close and the gold scales return to their original form.

The snake shrinks smaller and smaller until it is back to its original size. At which, it perks up and flicks a tongue out in thanks to its god.

“All right, let’s go,” Phanes says with a sigh as if this was a mundane chore. He extends out a hand for the serpent to slither up to.

“I am never making a deal with those two ever again, that was crazy.” He says to his snake.

The snake flicks its tongue again and rattles the scales on its back.

“Ohh, that’s nice that she made you an enclosure.” He responds, then remains silent as the snake says something else. “What do you mean she forgot to put mice in the enclosure for you to eat?!”

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

#morpheus #morpheus x reader #morpheus x reader smut #the sandman #the sandman x reader #dream of the endless #dream #dream x reader #dream x reader smut #angst with a happy ending #light angst #the sandman fanfic #morpheus x wife!reader #morpheus x wife reader #dream of the endless smut #dream of the endless x reader

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wiishopwednesday · 11 months ago

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sorry to be autistic but ive gotta tlak about csh for a minute because it really blows me away by how meta twin fantasy is ,like will created ftf as a reflection on the relationship he was in and the emotions he was feeling during the creation of mtm..also like the names of the respective versions ,"mirror to mirror" signifying how both of the people in the relationship only really loved the reflection of themselves they saw in the other [he also references this in strangers, where he says "i sleep lying next to a mirror" which is also a metaphor for being a homosexual] and face to face being the new version, signifying that he has finally come to terms,has finally had proverbial "conversation" face to face about the past feelings he felt while writing twin fantasy and has fully acknowledged what he felt and has moved on. this is also apparent in his past-tense use of words instead of present-tense like the usage of words in mtm [ftf those boys says "they were connected/at the back of the head/they *had* a conduit/their minds *were* the same" meanwhile mtm those boys says "they were connected/at the back of the head/they *got* a conduit/their minds *are* the same". he realizes the relationship has ended and its over now. a piece of fiction, if you will.]

also in mtm will states that "he has only lyrics now," that he is in despair over the loss of the relationship and the fact that the relationship is now a work of fiction that only exists in his mind-a fantasy. however in ftf he recognizes this and comes to terms with it- it is just a song. it is just lyrics. he even changes "he has only lyrics now" to "these are only lyrics now". he has changed, he has reflected and moved on. this is just a piece of fiction to him now, anything can happen from here. i also really like the change in famous prophets to where he no longer name drops himself and cate wurtz. like he says, "the contract is up, the names have been changed". this is no longer a breakup album made about wurtz but instead a piece of fiction documenting the feelings he experienced during a part of his life

i also really like these lyrics, taken from a bible verse about the 3 wise men i believe ? but the end was edited to say "now these Two remain" to reference the two people in the relationship

its just so interesting. you break up with someone, one of you writes a breakup album in a fit of feeling, 7 years pass and youre both left to deal with the fallout. anything can happen from here. now these two remain and they must see face to face to put their past behind them.

the allusion to "the lady" by hojin stella jung at the end of ftf high to death is also incredibly powerful. the way he uses the words hojin uses to talk about their feelings while painting the portfolio of the lady to refer to his own feelings of making the original twin fantasy is so good and so compelling. the way they say "it was intense, it was an intense process, and it was how i was trying to, very hard, personify that intensity/but its hard to talk about her now, because i think she wasnt me/at least thats how i feel and im trying to figure out what to do now......but i did believe in her, 'the lady', and maybe/there is a different form now that the intensity takes" is an incredible parallel to will's feelings about writing the original twin fantasy and its a really powerful end to a song i think

#sorry i rambled on discord about csh at 1am and decided some cshheads might wanna see this #twin fantasy #twin fantasy ftf #twin fantasy mtm #car seat headrest #csh #will toledo #1td #1 trait danger #toby.txt

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a-polite-melody · 4 months ago

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It’s interesting, because I can kinda see the ‘logic’ behind this one, although I also see why the ‘logic’ is completely fucked up, so I want to actually deconstruct this in its own post.

People who are using ‘theyfab’ to mean “transmisogynist AFAB trans person who weaponizes their AGAB as part of their transmisogyny” are now adding further ‘proof’ to the fact they should be able to use the word ‘theyfab’ this way.

That ‘proof’ is that the types of people they use ‘theyfab’ against are the type of people to say they are their AGAB and not that they were their AGAB.

Essentially, AFAB trans people are saying “I’m AFAB” rather than “I was AFAB” and specifically are using that language that way to imply that they are still connected to womanhood and so trans women are still connected to manhood. This is an example of how AFAB trans people, not just the ones we’re not necessarily calling out but the group as a whole, have a problem with weaponizing their AGAB against trans women and so using a slur which targets the identity is not only okay but necessary because this is such a widespread thing within AFAB trans spaces.

And so look! The targets are the ones doing that weaponizing! Weaponizing their AGAB back as a slur is fine! Useful even because it points out how they weaponize their AGAB! It all makes a lot of sense and makes it seem logical that the slur is being used!

Except that falls apart really quickly when you think about it for more than a couple seconds.

I mean, just look at how trans people as a whole tend to talk about AGAB. ‘AGAB trans’ is relatively common phrasing among all trans people speaking about AGAB, even though technically we should be saying “trans people who were AGAB”. We use present tense as a way to say fewer words when it comes to AGAB, so it makes a lot of sense that there are many trans people—of all AGABs when you actually look and don’t just cherry pick—who then end up saying “I’m AGAB” rather than “I was AGAB”.

The way that people are being grammatically incorrect around AGAB terminology is not something unique to one specific AGAB nor is it some evil plot masterminded by transmisogynists. It’s just grammatical incorrectness which manifests itself because in every other case besides the situation where you’re identifying your own AGAB to people it is significantly faster and easier to use present tense, and so that tense usage carries across.

This is just another post-hoc attempt to justify the fact transradfems used and are continuing to use slurs. Find something after you’ve done the slurring and after you’ve already made multiple justifications for it, pretend this new thing you found is a unique problem with the people you’re slurring, and apparently lots of people will believe you that this means you’re justified in using that slur. Luckily, just like with all of the other post-hoc justifications we’ve seen, there are people seeing through it, which means that it’ll only last as a justification long enough to find that new post-hoc justification to try out.

#my post #theyfab discourse #exorsexism #transandrophobia #transmisandry #anti-transmasculinity #did I make this post so that I didn’t have to reblog screenshots of a particular person being on my blog?#noooooo…… not Entirely #but uh…. maybe a little

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catofoldstones · 9 months ago

Note

what is "you will dance with me anon?"

It’s a callback in Jon’s mind to Alys Karstark’s dialogue to Jon during her wedding, but with a twist.

The conversation goes something like this

“You could dance with me, you know. It would be only courteous. You danced with me anon.”

“Anon?” teased Jon.”

Jon X, ADWD

“Anon” is an old English word which I feel is most closely translated to presently or shortly. It’s an adverb that denotes a future tense, something that is yet to happen, and Alys uses it in the past tense to say that, “hey we danced just now”, which is why Jon teases her.

Jon later thinks back on this moment but uses the correct tense of the word

A snowflake danced upon the air. Then another. Dance with me, Jon Snow, he thought. You'll dance with me anon.

Jon XII, ADWD

To me, this feels like a cry across time a space. Maybe you had the wrong dance partner last time (past tense use of the word anon which is wrong), Jon Snow, next time (the correct usage of anon) it will be the right one.

And also, since anon means soon, I am led to believe that Jon and Sansa will also meet pretty soon (as soon as twow, if my eyes ever have the good luck of seeing its pages), for a dance maybe, literal or metaphorical.

#anon asks t #you will dance with me anon #jonsa #the urge to tag this with jonalys >>>>>>#the chemistry that they have #god

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yuk-tepat · 6 months ago

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Diachronic change in Yuk Tepat

Yuk Tepat is often presented here as a fixed entity - “Classical Yuk Tepat” - but beneath that has undergone evolution like all languages. The following sentences both mean “A man I didn’t know came in.” The first represents the most archaic layer of old Tepat, and the second is a relatively modern colloquial version from the late Conciliarity period.

Ci niw yan-uk syow mi-yat ku hyew.

*[tsi niw ja nuk sju me jat ku hjew]

PAST enter person 1P REL NEG know to room

(Alternately: Ci niw yan syuk mi-yat ku hyew. (syuk = syu + =uk)

Hûq-khal yan i-wat ôl-yat mul nt’ôl-nyul hyew-iw.

[hɯʔ kʰal ja ni wɒ ɾl̩ jat mu ln̩ tl̩ nyɬ çø wiw]

one CLASS person of 1P PAST know NEG 3P PAST enter room CIS

Let’s unpack this. First, a couple of very notable things:

The modern sentence is much longer.

Only three words are the same in both sentences: yan, yat, hyew.

Digging deeper….

Ci was the normal particle expressing past tense in Old Yuktepat, but it has been replaced by ôl in the second sentence.

The second sentence begins with a subject noun phrase Hûq-khal yan i-wat ôl-yat mul, which is normal SVO word order. The equivalent subject noun phrase in the first sentence comes AFTER the verb. In archaic language, this is an acceptable ordering for INDEFINITE subject nouns (but actually, it would still have been unusual for a complex noun phrase like this).

The subject noun yan in the second sentence is modified by a numeral-classifier phrase hûq-khal ‘one.’ This kind of specification of number - such as ‘one’ for any old indefinite noun phrase - is more common in later Yuk Tepat.

The first person pronoun. In the first sentence, there is a clitic form -uk. In later Yuk Tepat, everything has been leveled to the invariable pronoun wat.

The subject contains a relative clause. In the first sentence, it is relativized by syow, in the second sentence it is relativized by i. I also means ‘of’ and has been generalized to all kinds of situations, while specific subordinating particles like syow - which is only used to relativize objects - have fallen out of use.

(Additionally, syow and -uk might occur together as a fused form syuk.)

The negative. The first sentence uses mi before the verb, the second sentence uses mul after the verb.

The second sentence contains a pronoun nat (contracted to nt) which follows the subject noun phrase, before the verb. Kind of like ‘The man I didn’t know, he entered the room.’

Niw and nyul ‘enter.’ Niw and nyul are the same verb basically. Niw is an older intransitive form. Most verb pairs of this sort have been leveled to only one form. In Yuk Tepat, the originally transitive form nyul has taken over everything.

The first sentence has a preposition ku ‘in, at, to.’ This is missing in the second sentence. ‘To’ is considered implicit in the verb nyul. Ku is no longer used except in fixed expressions.

The second sentence ends in a clitic -iw indicating motion toward the speaker. This is derived from the verb khiw ‘come.’

These examples are very different, but the reality may not be that extreme. Although only 3 words are identical, most words in either sentence are found in all stages of the language, although their usage may have shifted. For example past tense ci is still used, but it has a very archaic sound. It is used for DISTANT past, or in say, historical textbooks, but ôl is now the neutral past tense marker. Hence, either (written) sentence should be interpretable to someone from the other time period. Through this we also see one trend of the language’s evolution, that of reducing morphological variants to a single uninflected form.

#conlang #yuktepat #tepat #tepatic glyphs #logographs #writing system

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eri-pl · 3 months ago

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Silm reread interlude 4: Lay of Leithian canto 8-10

…because the War of Wrath reread is waiting for the event.

We start with Huan's backstory, and a mention that in Orome's house there is strong wine and hunting songs. Oh, an Orome is called Tavros. And he "alone of Gods had loved the world before the banners were unfurled of Moon and Sun". Huh.

His hounds are immortal, unless they get themselves in the Doom of the Noldor. And Huan is "A wolf-hound, tireless, grey and fierce". Also, can see through all shadows and mist, can track months-old scents, and "No wizardry, nor spell, not dart, no fang, nor venom devil's art could brew had harmed him; for his weird was woven."

I love the worl "weird"! (It is basically fate, but it's like a textile — the verb for making it is "to weave"). So, in simple words, his fate was predefined. As we well know.

(Also, not all of Orome's dogs are grey and I think not all are wolfhounds.)

C&C. "Curufin spake: 'Good brother mine[…]" First, arbitrary past tense forms are back! Second: this is a rather …unique usage of the word "good", but ok. Well, maybe compared to Curufin Celegorm deserves it. But also, ha says this partially for show, as later he whispers some other stuff, so I guess he tries to sound like a good guy. Anyway, this opening feels very ironic to me.

They conspire, consider Orodreth to be stupid and want to know how's Finrod. Not out of care for him. Also, a fragment I liked: "and if he bear a Silmaril — I need declare no more in words; but one by right is thine (and ours), the jewel of light; another may be won — a throne. The eldest blood our house doth own."

I love how ominous he is. I will use "I need declare no more in words" as a threat in my posts. XD

Also, a good explanation of their motivations.

Huan's immunity to magic is a trait of all Orome's hounds: "[Huan's] old immortal race and kind no spells could ever turn or bind." And it's in various different places, but Huan's voice (and of all those hounds in general, I think) is deep, low and like a bell. I love this.

The people of Nargothrond seem to know that Luthien is held against her will and not care? Or maybe this line is about the fact that she realizes that she's kidnapped: "Too late she knew their treachery. It was not hid in Nargothrond that Feanor's sons her held in bond, [….] who had little cause to wrest from Thû the king they loved not and whose quest old vows of hatered in their breast had roused from sleep."

Also: 1. They did not love Finrod. Obviously. 2. Again the Oath is presented as something that sleeps and wakes.

Canto 9

We are back at Thû's island. Beren frees Finrod from his oath to Barahir, because he did a lot already, and more than needed. Peak Finrod moment (no, not that kind. The slightly other kind): Finrd says that even if he tells Thû that they are Finrod and Beren, Thû will break his word and kill them, because bad guys are Like That.

Oh, and Beren "thou"-s Finrod (we don't see what Finrod does but he would do the same), which is vely lovely, because this means that Finrod shown Beren that he can treat him like a friend, not like a might Elven king who had seen the Trees etc etc.and so on. :)

And then Thû replies to him, because he was, of course, eavesdropping. And now he knows who they are. Finrod, my dear, I really like you, but this wasn't very wise. ;)

Thû is planning to keep Finrod for ransom (and fun torture) and kill Beren. The rest of the situation goes as usual. Plus we get another title refernce when Finrod frees himself.

Their farewell is not as good as in some other versions. and then we get another stanza in present tense, for… reasons?

Beren dreams of singing, sings when dreaming (?), we get a mention of a constallation called the Burning Briar (which is the Big Dipper, iirc. Rather this than Orion. Those two are Varda's "Morgoth, we'll get you" signs.) "the Seven Stars that Varda set about the North, were burning yet, a light in darkness, hope in woe, the emblem vast of Morgoth's foe."

Lúthien replies. Song-rescue order inverted! That is unusual.

Thû has a black hood! Also, Tolkien repeatedly uses "sable" to mean "black', luckily I read some basics of heraldry and I know the word. He recognizes Lúthien by her song and plans to capture her as in the usual story. And yes, he does stand on his high tower and smile before getting wrecked.

Description of werewolf!Sauron includes gems like: "its fangs more gleaming-sharp and dyed with venom, tornment, and with death." Mmmmm… lovely isn't the best word for it, but the poetry is so good…

And now we learn that Thû has been made by Morgoth.: "the foul spirit Morgoth made and bred of evil". Very non-later-Legendarium.

More lovely poetry: "O demon dark, O phantom vile of foulness wrought, of lies and guile, here shalt thou die" and so on and so forth, unless you give me your island. Also: "thou"! Not "you"! Adding insult to injury. :)

[In case it needs a clarification: "thou" is informal, so it's used between close friends and family and to someone of a lower status, or as an insult. It's a bit like calling someone "bro" instead of "sir". When Beren and Finrod do it it's because they're close friends. When Luthien does it to Sauron is to disrespect him.]

In addition to giving her the island, Lúthien demands Sauron Thû to release his spell on it. In the Silm she removes the spell herself. So we are told that he "betrayed his master's trust". So Morgoth trusts his minions. Funny. Not impossible, but ironic.

Prison crumbled, people freed, surprisingly no single very direct title reference.

Canto 10

We start with nice things: "Felagund laughs beneath the trees in Valinor". This is lovly, this is much better and more evocative than in the Silm, where he just walks beneath them.

C&C get cancelled in Nargothrond and people speak about them in a Mallory-like style: "'Let us slay these faithless lords untrue!' the fickle folk now loudly cried".

They aren't amused, and the description is again great: "Scornful, unbowed, and unashamed stood Celegorm. In his eye there flamed a light of menace. Curufin smiled with his crafty mouth and thin."

The usual misadventure of C&C vs B&L, Curufin is mentioned to have mighty arms, also gets very nearly strangled. Celegorm curses Huan: "Curse thee, thou baseborn dog, to dare against thy master teeth ro bare!"

Baseborn? Orome would like to have a talk with you. At this point, probably the kind of talk that involves a bow, and doesn't involve talking.

We get another (3rd at least) nor/nor about how fearless or invulnerable Huan was. :)

Lúthien adresses Beren as "my lord" (HUH :/ ) and tells him to not kill Curufin, because it would help Morgoth if they killed an ally in war.

Curufin's knife is made by the Dwarves (singing slow enchantments. I imagone Disa from the series.), not by Curufin. Also, it deals magically unhealable wounds.

Beren yeets Curufin! "uplifting him, far him flung, and cried 'Begone!', with stinging tongue; 'Begone! thou renegade and fool" Also, this is another great burn in this lay. Also tells him to go and rethink his life. Which Curufin really should have done.

Aaaand Celegorm curses Beren. …my guys, seriously… "We curse thee under cloud and sky, we curse thee from rising into sleep!" I wonder when did Curufin sign the papers to let Celegorm curse people for him, but I suppose he gladly would.

Also, even Celegorm's arrows show us that he's evil: "a dwarvish dart and cruelly hooked".

There is a part which I don't understand, I have no idea what is said. [after they shot Beren] "though Curufin with bruised mouth laughed, yet later of that dastard shaft was tale and rumour on the North, and Men remembered Marching Forth, and Morgoth's will its hatered helped."

Morgoth is actively hunting for Lúthien. Well, his minions are.

#silm #tolkien legendarium #silm reread #lay of leithian #beren and luthien #celegorm #curufin #huan #eri reads the legendarium

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english-mirror · 1 month ago

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#present perfect tense #completed action #structure of present perfect #examples #usage of tense #tense table

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canaidliafail · 2 years ago

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Stay grounded pt.4

[ part 5]

streamer abby x streamer reader 🌿 MDI

notes: alright so this was long. almost 4k words if Im right but its cause I had a lot I wanted to say. This episode is a lil more depressing then the rest since I spoke a bit on loss & trauma. I hope you don’t mind that and still enjoy reading it 🤍 it does end on a very positive note though :>

CW: trauma and mentions of loss of parental figures, sexual content, alcohol usage and Abby being a community strap

•ABBY’s POV•

•if I leave, maybe I can start again , Do right on the wrongs and have a better chance •

_________

In your darkest hours, when it's most difficult to stay afloat you will find yourself in absolute cold white solitude . It's not that you don’t have friends, it's that your fall tends to happen when everyone is away,

you friends will have exams or an important event, your parents will most likely be drowning in work.

such is the course of life. So with bared teeth and a tense jaw you have no choice but to march on. Abby's downfall came in the form of persistent nightmares where she would see her dad. Every year near his death’s anniversary she would become a shell of herself and in those weak moments she leaped back into old habits and sought out comfort in old connections. Until the consequences of those actions caught up to her and she paid double the price in fallen friendships and blackmail

In grief your judgment is clouded. Your anger takes the best of you but see, the world doesn’t owe you an apology.You know, you don’t get over a loved one's death. You just learn to live with it. Live with that and every other hard bitter truth. And that's what Abby learned to do.

_________

Abby enjoyed her routine and the way she had neatly organized every aspect of her life. She maintained a perfect balance of secrecy and exposure and kept everything under wraps, emotions included. Her manager did occasionally usher her to post more scandalous things since she was about to open an onlyfans but abby remained adamant that her crowd would find out about it without her saying so much as a word

Everything had a plan and purpose and everything was peaceful. Until you came into her life out of nowhere. She could not understand why did her mind stay so hangup on your name after that stream but she was sure she had seen it before.

perhaps in a fanart or maybe a shoutout?

so she went to check that day her socials until she saw your repost and the familiar username popped up cottoncandy

she looked at it and went through your profile and hated how intrigued she was by your interests but mostly by your appearance. There was something too unique to pass by and so she had decided to close her phone and go to the gym.

I can not allow someone in my life right now. Everything is in its place and it just…it wont work

She tried to convince herself while getting dressed. But you lingered in her mind like a vulture circling around waiting to pounce. There was a girl at her gym, one that she didn't know her name but she was presentable and had a spunky attitude and most importantly, really wanted Abbys attention. Abby was in the middle of taking a break between sets and took off her cap to wipe her face from the sweat with her gym towel. The girl approached her then and had her usual chatter that often times lasted around three…maybe four minutes. This time she was determined to ask Abby out. And Abby normally would agree without giving much thought into it. Nora once had called her community strap and she hated how well that nickname fit. When the question came though Abby found herself putting on her black hat back on and lowering it enough that the shadow would cover her eyes,rejecting the expecting girl curtly and went back to her sets with more force than usual. Because nothing today went “as it usually fucking would”

When she went back home she spent a good few hours stalking you and then another few denying she did that.

she texted Nora who unceremoniously left her on

read

“fuck” abby mumbled

It had been…years since she felt a spark of interest towards someone. Sure she was sexually active. Ever since she had her sexuality figured out she spent a year making up for lost time sleeping left and right with every woman that winked at her. However none of those girls -which did not lack in wit or looks in any way- piqued her interest. So she was bothered by you and why you were on her mind so much. She doom scrolled your entire page and when that was no longer enough she searched your YouTube channel to find your videos. 2.

Only two videos which meant thats how much it took for you to move to streaming. She rested on her couch and Alice whined next to her

“I do not need my own dog bullying me right now” she growled and Alice laid on her bed feigning innocence. She put your video playing in the background.and would chuckle at your jokes and then she would actually break into loud laughter and would replay a moment in awe. Eventually when wrapping up the video you sat back and had a talk in response to an older question

-I like this game.it speaks on the experience of loss which ,well…anyone who has personally lived through it would know how isolating that feeling is. I like that. Most importantly I like that depending on where you are in life you will take a very different message from this game, the purpose of revenge, forgiveness or acceptance. Or maybe something else that I am not in that stage to grasp yet. Highly recommend you guys play it as well-

She was taken aback. She didn't expect this video to end on such a note and she felt her heart ache. Not in pain but in something else entirely. Her frustration turned into delight. She started liking what you did to her and that was enough for her to make a move

___________

Ellie and Abby had a weird relationship. Abby no longer hated her but she didn’t like her either, however being in the same community and city meant you would have to be involved one way with one another thus she took the smart, professional decision to keep things civil. It was her managers request really, no. It was a demand actually but she followed through. So while they occasionally would post a pic whenever they hang out, Abby wanted nothing more to do with her unless necessary and she believed that the feelings were mutual.

However when she saw Ellie take notice of you the way she had something snapped. Abby had the privilege of being in Ellie “close friends” story and saw the upcoming comment of her admiring you and she got jealous. so she had to pull something. Something to keep you focused on her.

Her insecurities always got the best of her in times like this and when it happened she was irrational. She decided buying you that beloved statue that you mentioned more than once on your streams would send the message clearly

you didn’t. Because gifts were anonymous. But someone did get the message a few days later

“explain this purchase please” he asked mad and impatient

“Thought you wanted me to branch out and go international. She is an upcoming streamer and-“

“oh. So its a she. Explains a lot then. Should I be concerned for more large expenses on behalf of your breaching out?”

said her manager with a sharp tone. Abby pursed her lips and looked up and away in concentration. Truthfully she was bad at this. at being professional. That's why she had a manager. She forgot to account for the fact that the transactions she made went through him, which was usually a good thing. She forgot why now, but it was

“I promise I won’t do anything stupid…well-“

she tried and she heard Isaacs deep breathing on the other line

“yes?”

silence

“abby speak. I’ve known you long enough”

“So I thought of sending her a video…would that be good?”

“I do not want to know about your private sex life”

“no see I won’t directly send it…”

more silence. Abby chewed on her lip and rubbed her neck. She was sitting on her gaming chair ready to film and she was hot and ready enough which she feared Isaacs boring tone would turn her off and would ruin her plan

“It has to be behind a paywall. Abby this is business and even though I don’t want to ruin whatever fairytale shit you are living in you can’t keep doing whatever you want, you have a name and”

she put he phone on speaker and left it on her desk. she walked to her kitchen, made a coffee and filled alices bowl with food. when she went back to the room Isaac was still talking

“alright so how much should I charge?”

“400. The way you usually do”

“400?! There’s no way she will pay that- She doesn’t even know it will be sent only to her” she protested and he groaned

“200?” she asked

“250 and that's final” and he finally hung up. She smiled and once she was back and ready she started filming.

it started slow and she didn’t really intend to go too far. just enough to give you a taste of her. She had a very clear image of you in her head. Eventually though her thoughts drifted to you between her thighs, on your knees and ready to taste her. She let out a sigh and her fingers circled her clit in slow motions. she pictured you biting the waistband and asking for permission, looking up at her with those lovely eyes. your voice came a lot cleared than she expected

“Can I? abs?” and she groaned and let out a chocked

-fuck- as her hand went lower and she started fingering herself. She tried to fool herself that it was your tongue against her folds instead of her rough calloused fingers

“fuck cotton-“ she whispered and folded in on herself as she started thrusting harder still not getting the satisfaction that she craved. she wanted to feel you. On top of her riding her strap and beneath her as she rode your face. She knew you would look good all messed up, makeup ruined from the heated session.

What did you sound like when you moaned ? Were you loud in bed ? did you talk a lot? were you shy?

Fuck I wanna know…I need to know you

and with that she came. she grabbed her phone and the 20 minute video she had planned had to be cut at the 3 minute mark due to her stupidity calling out your name. Loud and clear too. she sat on the floor and stared at the footage for a good few minutes before sending it and waiting with the tab open.

within the first hour she already feared that you would buy the video. she even considered deleting it and sending it for free. she could deal with Isaac tomorrow

but few minutes later she saw the pending turn to paid

_________

Almost as if in another timeline, she had to visit a professional on matters she deemed unimportant, and if they ever mattered to her, she now forgot why.

Abbys therapist was a woman cunning and smart and could decode everything about Abby. They had been working for a year. That was the longest that Abby ever stuck with the same therapist before running away in anger at the lack of progress. She was unsure if this one helped, but she did find herself accepting her anger and coming to terms with it. She would still cry about it and she would always stay spiteful to her peers that still had their parents close.

“I’m happy that you seem more willing to open up your heart again Abby. I have to ask though. Are you sure this isn’t a hopeful trauma bond that you are seeking to create?”

“No, definitely not. Sure I liked that she seemed more insightful and all but no, I just like her for all the other aspects” Her therapist took note of that and Abby felt insecure in herself and her decisions once again

________

After her bold move on onlyfans, She did expect to get the silent treatment but she underestimated how stubborn you would be about it and that was a thing that really excited her.

such a brat

She held the plastic cup in her hand and stared at the clear liquid as it swished back and forth.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. What if she doesn’t even like me? I mean I know she has been following me for a while but that doesn’t say anything…”

Manny leaned against the table and crossed his arms in consideration.

“I dont know man I think she does like you, she’s probably just shy or something”

“shy?!Manny she hasn’t texted me in two days and we were supposed to call again last night”

“oh, so two days is too much but you leaving her on ready for weeks is fine?”

Abby rolled her eyes

“Do you have to remember every little thing?!” She looked around at the crowd dancing and playing beer pong. She didn’t even remember whose villa this was, only that it was a big shot youtubers that she got invited to. She usually avoided these events. Abby, despite of everyone's assumptions, was in fact shy and a little awkward and when Mel & Owen were at these parties it made her a lot more tense than she already was. She saw the couple in a corner kiss and then talk with others and eventually Mel would glare at Abby.

With a long sigh she grabbed her phone to check your profile. you had a story next to the statue she got you and she felt her cheeks heat up in excitement the room finally going quiet as her focus was directed at your photo. She slid up to respond to the image and was interrupted by someone getting a little too close to her personal space

“So you know her?” Ellie asked. Abby looked at the short girl and held back a scoff

“Kind of. We occasionally talk”

Ellie nod and looked around and then back at Abby

“Ugh…do you perhaps know if she is..single? or lesbian?”Abby sat on that and realized you actually had never explicitly announced your sexuality which made her reconsider every damn thing she did so far. Then came the next question.

were you even single ? or did she just make a move on someone who is spoken for?

Abby noticed ellie cock a brow and before she could smirk in triumph she locked her phone and shoved it in her pocket

“Yes she is but she already has her eyes on someone” She half lied. I mean she did hope you had your sights set on her but she couldn’t know for sure. You had talked about things before but somehow Abby never even thought to question you about those very crucial details.

“hm…I see” said Ellie and abby gave her a curt nod and excused herself. She was in no mood to talk to her any further than that but she felt uneasy. Ellie was persistent and Ellie was also, very openly a lesbian. she was attractive and there was no reason you wouldn’t be attracted to her.

“fuck this is so stupid” she mumbled to herself and went to fill her cup with more alcohol. there was no way she would be able to handle the night otherwise.

At this point two things were possible. She was drunk or she was seeing things. She double checked and indeed, there was a message from you. a few actually with videos attached and all. If she were at home, she would be screaming in ecstasy. she went to the bathroom for privacy and checked your chat which consisted of a mess of texts thanking her for the gift and the rest fawning over how ‘gorgeous Eivor looks in this size” and Abby bit her lip to stop herself from smiling anymore like an idiot. It was adorable. She watched the videos again and again of you showing her the statue which she didn't really care about but just your excited voice was enough for her to stay hooked on those three, 4 second clips.

Glad you liked the gift

Cotton candy: liked ????? My God I need to make it up to you somehow I don't know how, like dfjjdkrkge

A breathy chuckle escaped Abbys lips as her heart swelled at the sight of your texts. She noticed in the short span of talking to you that you tended to speak a lot more and a lot faster when it came to your interests. Without filter too and she liked that.

How about that call that you completely ghosted me on?

Cottoncandy: Ok listen I was…well

Cottoncandy: Fine sure. I’m free now if you are ?

Sure. I'll go take a shower and be back

And Abby rushed out of the bathroom and went straight to Manny to ask for her coat and car keys.

“What ,are you leaving?”

“Yeah sorry I’m not feeling so well, think I’m getting another migraine”

She said morphing her face into a pained expression and grabbed her leather jacket the minute he passed it over to her. She had never seen herself fold so fast over a girl and she was not in the mental state to acknowledge how embarrassing all of this was on her behalf

half an hour later when she was back home she immediately texted you trying to seem cool, relaxed, unbothered even

ready?

cottoncandy: sure :)

and she pressed “call”

__________

Things were just easier after that. She noticed you relax up and get bolder, responding to her posts more often and occasionally sending a text without waiting for her to post a story which she admitted to have started doing a lot more often for the sole purpose of giving you the push you needed to talk to her. You would often hang out at each other's streams and she quickly found out that when it came to humor, it was identical to one another and would throw jabs at each other that kept the chat entertained and Isaac pleased because your audience had new things to speculate. Abby was public with her friendships without disclosing anything more which left her audience running in circles and trying to pry more private information. This whole back and forth with you now reignited the audience's spark and due to how new it was, everyone seemed supportive and excited. In the back of her mind, Abby feared that this would eventually prove to be difficult to manage but she forced herself to stop rushing things in her head.

At the end of the day, so far you two were just friends who talked and, well, had probably simultaneously jacked off at the thought of one another without ever addressing that. That was another thing Abby chose not to speak about despite the fact that she would obsessively check on who purchased her sets to come to the sad realization that she had in fact scared you off her onlyfans.

She wasn’t sure if all of those were things she was supposed to feel, after all she had never taken it slow with anyone. Not that she ever gave them the time being that she would mostly do one night stands. With you it was different and she had to understand if it was due to the distance or if you were special to her after all

cottoncandy: Uni was AWFUL. I am actually dropping out

you are so dramatic

Came her response to which she received a fiery series of messages of you whining about how difficult things were before winter break.

cottoncandy: I honestly can't wait for it. I am so excited to just rest :)))

any plans? Do you have a trip planned with your friends or maybe your partner?

you read the message immediately but it took you a few minutes to respond and Abby gave a pat on her back in a derogatory way.

this is the worst possible way I could’ve asked if she is single

cottoncandy: no specific plans and no partner. I'll probably rot on my couch since my plans on going on a trip crumbled.I would cry but my tears run thin due to exams these days

You really like traveling dont you?

Cottoncandy: Who doesn’t ? I love visiting my friends abroad or vice versa

Abby didn't travel much. Not outside the country at least. She considered your messages and tried not to delude herself into a double meaning. Were you asking for an invite or were you inviting her ? Perhaps you were just venting. She was Picking at a thin layer of unstuck plastic from her table and toyed with it until it snapped. Either was she now knew you were not seeing someone and she could make a move guilt free

There wasn’t really a discreet way to go about this and if she was going to suggest it, you would need at least a heads up to rearrange your schedule.

I could visit you for winter break. I’m usually free around that time

She was rambling. She never spoke that much. But the rewarding excited messages that followed suit were rewarding enough to make up for her discomfort

Cottoncandy: Holy shit are you , wait for real?!

Sure. I always wanted to visit your city

She didn't. Again, Abby didn't travel. She didn't care about traveling. She just wanted to see you. Her phone screen went blank and then your face popped up on call.

“Yes?”

-Did you mean it? Cause if so I need to prepare things

“Like I said. We both have those two weeks available and it was about time I took a little trip. I could talk my manager into believing this is for work”

-Oh sure. If you want we can do a collab as well so that you don't take a loss in revenue and stuff

“Cotton its fine. I just wanna hang out with you. Don’t worry, leave that up to me”

She reassured and felt her ego inflate at how easily you seemed to be put at ease with her words. She couldn’t know for sure if her attraction was romantic or just sexual but she sure as hell loved the way you two aligned.

You spoke for a while and with winter break only a month away you already settled on the dates.

“I have to go to the gym now but I’ll send you a text once I get the tickets so that you know what time Ill be there

-alright perfect! See ya

Abby put her phone away and for a few minutes she would occasionally laugh, softly, while imagining what it would be like. She was nervous and with delight she noticed that she finally regained that spark in her where she had a crush and wanted to speak about her instead of statistics, trauma or finances. she felt good

#abby anderson #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x reader #tlou2 #the last of us #abby anderson x y/n #mdi #Spotify

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