#and of course i trust her judgment entirely so yes! i can still get on board with this love story

[laurapetrie]

When Carole Lombard tackled anything it was with all her heart and soul — and that's the way she fell for Clark Gable, in a way that could have been worked only by the miracle that makes hearts beat faster on Valentine's Day. Everyone who knew Carole loved her; everyone loved Gable, too — and when they loved each other it was a romance fit for the gods. - Hedda Hopper, "Three Loves That Thrilled the World" (Modern Screen, February 1949)

[willalove75]

Alcina's New Maid Pt. 14 Lady Dimitrescu x Reader

Summary: Alcina and Donna have a chat. You wake up and you and Alcina have a heart-to-heart. She tells you about the mold and her experiences with the cadou.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI

Tags: Fluff, softness, canon violence, a dash of angst

Notes: Part 14! I'm SO sorry that this chapter is so late! I decided to make it a little extra long to make up for it💕

Click here for the rest of the series

A maid walks in with a tray in her hands after Alcina sits across from Donna. Setting it down on the coffee table, she looks up at Alcina.

"Tea or wine my Lady?"

"Wine, please." Alcina says as she pulls her cigarette case along with her lighter out of her bra. A slight blush crosses the maids cheeks while she opens the wine bottle and pours it into Alcina's glass. Donna gives Alcina a look, surprised she acted so casually in front of one of her maids. Meanwhile, Alcina lights a cigarette and deeply inhales. She blows the smoke away from the maid and Donna.

"I apologize for my lack of etiquette but I am unable to muster the energy at the moment to present myself as I normally would." Alcina says to the maid, resting her forehead on the heel of her hand as she holds the cigarette between two fingers.

"There is no reason to apologize, my Lady. We know the day has been," she pauses, nervously searching for the right word. "rather stressful." She hands Alcina her goblet, who immediately drinks from the glass.

"Tea, Lady Beneviento?"

"Yes please."

The maid pours the tea for Donna and hands her the cup.

"Thank you, that will be all. Please see to it that we are not interrupted unless, gods forbid, yet another emergency occurs."

"Of course, my Lady." The maid says with a bow before leaving the room and closing the door behind her.

Alcina downs the rest of her wine in one gulp and refills her glass.

"Oh how I wish I were still able to get drunk." She mutters to herself, looking down into the glass of swirling red liquid.

"Even regeneration properties can be a double edged sword." Donna says as she lifts her veil to take a sip of tea.

"What was it you wanted to speak about again?" Alcina asks.

"A few things, truthfully, including next weeks meeting."

"Ah, yes. Mother Miranda." Alcina says, taking another drag from her cigarette.

"But before that," Looking up at Donna, Alcina is unsure of what she's about to say. "I never doubted you when you told me how much you cared for the girl, however, I may have underestimated just how much you truly care for her. I don't think I've ever seen you look at anyone the way you looked at her, sister. You must truly love her."

Alcina feels a light blush creep across her cheeks and she tries to hide it by taking another sip of wine as she nods.

"I do, Donna. I do."

"She makes you happy?"

"The happiest I've ever been. I've never been happier, save for when I was given the girls. Although the love I have for her and the love I have for the girls are vastly different, all four of them have captured my heart."

"Well sister, the love between mother and child and the love shared between lovers are two entirely different kinds of love. I am very happy to see you so happy. It's been a long time."

"It certainly has."

"Now, regarding the meeting." Alcina takes another drag of her cigarette before putting it out in the ashtray. "Alcina you know my loyalty lies with you, however, I also will not stand against Mother for a foolish reason."

Alcina feels her body tense up as she stares into where Donna's eyes are behind the veil.

"Donna-"

"Please, let me finish." Alcina drinks from her glass and clenches her jaw, her grip tightening around the goblet. "But, I trust you and your judgment and I can see solely from the way you look at that girl that your reasoning for standing up against Mother if you must is anything but a foolish reason. Again, my loyalty lies with you Alcina. Wherever you go, Angie and myself will gladly follow."

A breath Alcina didn't realize she was holding releases as she feels her anger fade away.

"Thank you, Donna."

"What are you planning on doing for this meeting next week? You know you can't walk in, claws out and ready to attack."

"No, absolutely not. Mother's powers are far stronger than mine, even with immortality on my side I fear that if I go up against her, I won't survive."

"You won't." Donna says matter-of-factly.

"I plan on masking my feelings for her, for y/n. I don't know what Mother wants with her, or if she wants to test me. I'm uncertain of her motives. So my plan is to attend the meeting as usual, keep y/n close by my side at all times and if I have to protect her, I will without hesitation."

"I think that is a wise plan Alcina. How do you think she is going to handle the meeting? Has she met any of the other Lords?"

"No, she hasn't. She only met Mother."

"Do you have any concerns of her meeting the other Lords?"

"Not particularly. If I could keep her from ever having to interact with that child Heisenberg I would, but only because he is insufferable. I have no qualms with Salvatore, although I do not trust him. I would not put it past the poor creature to use whatever he has as his disposal to try to make himself appear more valuable to Mother. He's so desperate for her affection, it's pitiful."

"He is not the only one who pines for her acceptance, Alcina."

Alcina shoots Donna a glare and continues.

"Regardless, I have no fears of her meeting the other Lords."

"And for the rest of the meeting?"

"I have no doubts that she will be on her best behavior, more than likely nervous, but that's to be expected. But she's diligent and obedient and she's well aware of the dangers of stepping out of line in front of Miranda so I have no concerns regarding her or her behavior."

"Very well then, I'm glad to hear of your confidence in her."

"How do you think the mold will affect her?"

"Truthfully, I am not sure. It may not have any effect on her given she was only exposed to traces of the mold. The salve contains mold, but is not entirely composed of it. If she were to be truly infected, I believe any mutations that were to occur, would have by now. Given she only drank half of a bottle and subsequently threw most of it up, I don't think there was enough in her system to have any true, noticeable effects. I would keep a close eye on her just in case."

Alcina goes to speak but is interrupted by the door slamming open. Angie flies into the room and flies around Alcina.

"Sheeeeee's awakeeeee!! Your little friend is so cute even after she rolled down the stairs!"

Alcina swats at Angie to try and get her away. Angie stops just above Alcina and Alcina looks up into the dolls eyes and glares.

"Get out of my way." Alcina growls.

"Ohhhh someone's touchy! What? Can't handle being away from your lover for five minutes?! Tsk tsk, how would Mother Miranda feel knowing you've become so attached to a human!" Angie's screeching cackle echoes through the room.

Alcina begins to shake with anger, her claws slowly extend, digging into the arms of the chair.

"Angie! That is enough." Donna scolds the doll.

"Oh come on Dondon! I'm just playing!" She says as she floats into Donna's lap.

Alcina makes a disgusted face at the horrid nickname and her claws retract.

"Donna, thank you, for everything." Alcina says as she stands.

"Of course, I'm glad I was able to help and I am glad she is okay."

"What about me?!" Angie whines.

"You are nothing but a nuisance." She spits.

"Oh come on Alci! You're no fun!"

"Do not call me that."

"Ugh! No fun!"

Alcina decides to leave the room before she loses her quickly thinning patience and rips the doll to shreds. Making her way towards her bedroom, she hears a group of heartbeats coming from the room. Worried that some mutation happened, Alcina throws the door open to find her three girls sitting around you.

She's relieved and happily surprised when she sees Daniela laying next to you and Bela and Cassandra both sitting on the edge of the bed.

The four of you turn around when the door is thrown open and you see Alcina step into the room. A look of worry on her face melts into happiness as her eyes scan each of you.

"Hi mother! We hope you didn't mind us sending Angie to let you know y/n was awake, we didn't want to leave her." Daniela says, curled into you.

"As much as I detest that doll, I don't. Thank you for letting me know." She says as she walks further into the room and stands at the side of the bed in between Bela and Cassandra. She reaches out her hand and gently brushes the hair out of your face. "How are you feeling, draga?"

Truthfully, you still felt like shit, but you weren't in any pain anymore. Your body was sore and you felt exhausted.

"I'm okay, sore, tired."

"Daughters, why don't you go downstairs?"

Alcina's suggestion was met with a chorus of whines and displeasure.

"But mom!"

"Do we have to?"

"Why?"

"Because she needs to get cleaned up and rest."

"But-"

"My word is final."

Reluctantly, the girls get up and make their way out of the room. But not before each giving you a hug, with Daniela kissing your head before floating away.

Alcina sits on the edge of the bed and gently cups your cheek, caressing you with her thumb. The two of you sit in a comfortable silence for a few moments.

As you look into her eyes you see the softness that made you fall in love with her. You can see how she's looking at you, with adoration, with love, with concern. For someone who wears such a strong mask all of the time, everything she's feeling and thinking is etched into her face right now. How can someone think of her as vicious? As evil? Your mind starts to spiral at the thought. How could she kill Stefana like that? How can she be so kind and loving, yet so ruthless? The push and pull of your thoughts start to overwhelm you and Alcina immediately picks up on it.

"What's the matter?"

"I-I'm just having a hard time processing everything, is all."

"I'm sure, between getting shoved down the stairs and then healed the way you were, it must be difficult."

"It's not only that." You say as you look down. "Its," you voice trails off and Alcina lets out a small sigh.

"How I killed her?"

Your eyes slowly look up, meeting hers. Expecting to see frustration in her eyes, you're surprised when the softness is still there.

"That, and that you killed her, period."

"Darling, you do know she's not the only person I've done that to, yes? She is far from the first person I've had to kill."

"How many people?"

Alcina pauses for a moment to think.

"I stopped counting decades ago, I believe I lost count around 75 or 80. I'm sure it's well into the hundreds by now, a thousand even."

She says it in such a casual manner you wouldn't believe she was talking about murder if someone joined in the conversation right then. This woman, the woman you love, has taken the lives of so many. It's not really something you thought about or took into consideration before this since you were never exposed to it.

Your mind begins to wander, spiraling a bit at the thought. Alcina notices you get lost and she pulls you out before you go into a complete spiral.

"Draga, I know this must be difficult for you, but you did know of the rumors surrounding this castle, didn't you? I heard you tell your aunt the day you were sold to me that they were sending you to your death. Surely you were aware of what goes on here."

"I was, but, I don't know. It's so hard making it make sense. It made sense when I thought everything in this castle was evil, that you were bloodthirsty and killed for fun. But now, I know you. I know your heart, I know that this castle isn't filled with evil, that you all just do what you have to to survive. You, the girls, you're all so amazing, and I love you all so much and it's so hard for me to think that you also do this horrible things too because that's not who you are."

"Oh, draga." She says as she lays down next to you and pulls you into her. "You are truly one of the sweetest souls I've ever come to know." Placing a kiss on your head, Alcina hugs you tighter. "I know it's difficult to rationalize, and I hope this doesn't change the way you feel towards me, towards the girls, but that is who we are. I believe Zina has said this before, nothing is 100% good or 100% evil. Yes, the girls and I have all of those wonderful qualities that you love, but we also have dark ones. Ones that make us monsters to the outside world. Humans are complex creatures, once there's a mutation involved, the complexity increases tenfold. I have to admit, I tried to shield you from the horrors that go on here as best as I could, it's one of the reasons I explicitly told you to stay away from the dungeons. But I knew in time that the façade would crumble and you would see what truly happens here. I just hoped it wouldn't be at your expense, and for that I am so deeply sorry."

Alcina hugs you a little tighter and buries her nose in your hair. Both Alcina's and Zina's words repeat in your head. "Nothing is 100% good or 100% evil." "They have good in them, sometimes you just have to look a little harder to see it." Trying to reconcile both parts of Alcina and the girls into one isn't something you're going to be able to do instantaneously, there's a part of you that's afraid you're going to lose your humanity if you do. But as you're laying here in Alcina's arms, the only thing that matters is how much you love her, how much you care for her and how much she loves you.

"I love you, Alcina." You whisper as you curl into her more.

"I love you more than you'll ever know, draga mea."

Alcina places a kiss on your temple and her hand goes to rest against the back of your head. As she does, you're both reminded of the dried blood matted in your hair. Honestly, you're still covered in blood, dried blood now, and even though Alcina changed, she still has a decent amount on her as well.

"You should get washed up, you still have blood caked in your hair." Alcina says softly. "Can you get up?"

She moves to let go of you and you try to sit up. There's no sharp pain, but your whole body hurts, your whole body feels like one gigantic bruise. Alcina notices you struggle and helps sit you up.

"Here, let me, I don't want you hurting yourself further." She stands up and scoops you into her arms bridal style and walks you into the bathroom.

"Let me help you bathe, I want to make sure all of the blood gets out of your hair."

"You have to shower too, right?" You ask.

"Yes, but I can do that after you're done." She says, smiling down at you.

"Would you, you don't have to, but, would you want to join me?"

"Draga, please don't feel like you have to-"

"I don't, I promise. I just want you close is all."

Alcina's heart is so full she feel like it's going to explode inside of her chest. As you look up at her with the biggest eyes, she falls in love all over again.

"Of course, draga mea."

She sits you on the bench and you start to take off your clothes as Alcina fills the tub and removes her dress and underwear. Normally when you see her naked, you immediately want to pounce on her. This time, all you see is her beauty. There's a nervousness to her you never would have expected, but oddly, it comforts you to know that even with the mutation she's still able to hold onto her humanity.

Alcina picks you up and brings you to the tub. After she steps in she lowers the both of you into the water.

You let out a soft hiss as the water hits your skin but you quickly adjust to the temperature.

"Is it too hot?" Alcina asks with concern in her voice.

"No, it's perfect, I just needed a second to adjust." You say as you look up at her.

She places a kiss on your forehead and lays your back against her chest. The dried blood from your skin runs into the water in light pink trails. Alcina cups the water in her hand and pours it over your back and shoulders, the warmth soothing you aching muscles. She pours some of the water over herself and you can feel the streams slide between your bodies. Scooting you forward, Alcina tilts your head back and begins to pour the water over your hair. Once she's satisfied, you're able to lift your head while she lathers the shampoo into her hands.

Looking down you realize that the water is stained pink, a sadness washes over you although you're unsure why. It's a big tub you're both in, for the water to be stained pink, there had to be a lot of blood on the two of you. You lift your hand from the water and watch as the pink liquid runs between your fingers back into the tub.

"Pay that no mind, draga mea." Alcina says as she begins to massage the shampoo into your scalp. She smirks when she hears you let out a sigh as she washes your hair. "Good," she hums. "just relax my pet, let me take care of you."

After she rinses out the shampoo, Alcina coats the ends of your hair with conditioner and begins to brush out the knots and matts. She washes out the conditioner and proceeds to shampoo and condition her own hair. Once she's finished with that, she pours a generous amount of soap onto a washcloth and begins to wash your body.

Alcina drags the washcloth across your skin with care, making sure she removes every ounce of stubborn dried blood that hasn't yet been washed away. As she washes you, she examines your body, her heart aching at every bruise she comes across.

The healing salve healed every cut and all of the major injuries you sustained, but tender bruises still remain. Where your ribs and wrist were once broken, deep purple bruises developed. As much as Alcina hates that they litter your body, it provides her some relief knowing you weren't exposed to too much of the mold. Enough to heal your major wounds, but not enough to cause any mutations or more harm.

She turns you around and holds your chin as she wipes the dried blood from your face. You watch her eyes as the scan every inch of your skin. Making sure not a single speck of blood is left. After one more once-over she nods to herself, satisfied. Her eyes flick down and meet yours and the corner of her lips curl into a faint smile. With your chin still between her thumb and forefinger, she tilts your face up and captures your lips in a gentle yet passionate kiss.

When her lips leave yours, she looks into your eyes for a few moments before placing a kiss on your forehead. The sensation of her lips lingers on your skin after she pulls away. Alcina turns you back around and washes herself. More trails of blood seep into the water as she washes off the remainder of the soap on her skin.

Alcina wraps her arm around your middle and pulls you into her. She reaches across the tub and pulls out the drain stopper. You watch as the blood stained water whirlpools around the drain and disappears. All of the blood, a mixture of yours and Stefana's, vanishing as if it was never there to begin with. Thinking the bath is done, you move to get up. Alcina pulls you tighter into her, keeping you in place.

"We are not quite finished yet draga. I want you to soak for a little longer. However, sitting in bloody water is not ideal so I am drawing a fresh bath."

When the water finally drains Alcina replaces the stopper and turns on the taps to fill the tub up once more. The sensation of the cool air against your wet skin sends a shiver down your spine and you shudder. Alcina feels you shake in her arms and pulls you closer. Her usually cool skin is now warm from the bath. The chill in your body melts as she wraps both of her arms around you while the tub continues to fill.

She shifts around behind you and you hear the clinking of glass bottles. You watch as she pours some of her oils and salts into the tub as it fills. The aromas rise through the steam, mixing and mingling together to form a relaxing and calming scent.

The two of you lay in the tub in a comfortable silence as the water continues to rise. Alcina rests her cheek on the top of your head and you feel her let out a heavy exhale. Tightening your grip a little on her arms that are wrapped around you, she hums in response and gently brushes her nose against the shell of your ear.

Alcina leans forward when the tub fills, her arm tightening around you, keeping you close to her, and turns off the taps. She rests against the back of the tub and you lean back against her chest. Another comfortable silence washes over the two of you as you relax in each others arms. Alcina's nails aimlessly dance along your sides and you trace random shapes across her thighs.

This truly feels like the longest day to ever exist. It feels like you were asked to help Alcina with filing days ago, not this morning. Like your confrontation with Stefana was so long ago. That all of the pain you endured from tumbling down the stairs didn't occur just a few hours ago. Especially since you sustained injuries that should have taken weeks to heal, not instantly. But now, here you were. Relaxing in the bath with Alcina holding you tightly against her. Without realizing it, you let out a sigh and allow yourself to fully relax into her.

"Are you alright, draga?" Alcina asks.

"Mhm." You hum. "It's just been a long day."

"It certainly has been." She says with a sigh. "I believe I still owe you an explanation." Craning your neck, you look up at her with confusion written across your face. "About the mold."

You feel the lightbulb go off in your head.

"Oh, right. What is it?"

"I might as well start from the beginning if I want to give you an accurate picture." She says.

Alcina begins to tell you about how Miranda lost her daughter, Eva, and came across the Megamycete, also known as The Black God and it bestowed her incredible powers. From there, she began experimenting on residents of the village to try and find a "vessel" that could host her daughters consciousness that lived on in the Megamycete. Eventually, she created the Cadou, a parasite that causes the host to mutate in hopes of creating a perfect vessel for Eva. Miranda used the parasite on the descendants of the four founders of the village. Donna, Karl, Salvatore and herself.

"I was the first successful experiment." Alcina says. "And by 'successful,' I mean I didn't die or turn into a moroaică or a lycan. But in Miranda's eyes I was still considered a failure because I was not an acceptable vessel for Eva."

"Why not?"

"Because the cadou didn't necessarily cure my blood disease. Instead, I now rely on the blood of humans to survive."

The puzzle pieces in your mind begin to fall into place.

"What was it like? When you got the cadou?"

"It was horrific. I had never experienced pain like that in my entire life. Every second was more painful and excruciating than the last. It took weeks for my mutation to complete and I was given nothing to help with the pain."

"Wait, so she just let you suffer?"

"Yes. She wanted to document how it affected my body and needed me to be conscious to properly document the outcome."

"So you just woke up in pain and continued to be in pain for weeks?"

"There was no 'waking up in pain.'"

"I don't understand."

Alcina sighs and you look up. Her eyes have a faraway look in them as she recalls the procedure.

"I was dying, as I told you before. Mother Miranda promised me immortality, great power, endless beauty, and a cure. With nothing left to lose I immediately accepted her offer and met her here in the village. She brought me into her lab and briefly explained the procedure. Not once did she mention the torture I was about to endure. I stripped and laid down on the operating table. Mother Miranda strapped me down and it wasn't until then did I think I may have made a mistake. That she was not honest with her intentions. But it was too late. She carved into my body and implanted the cadou."

"And you were awake the whole time?"

"Yes. I felt every single thing she did to me." You look up at her with concern in your eyes. Alcina looks down at you and sees the look on your face. "Please don't fret about it draga mea, it was a very, very long time ago."

"But still-"

"But still nothing, what has happened has happened. There is nothing either one of us can do that will change the past. The only thing I can do now is protect you from experiencing the torture I endured."

Nodding your head, you lean back against Alcina who wraps her arms around you again.

"So what happened after that?"

She continues to explain how Miranda trusted her, made her a Lord, and even allowed her to conduct her own experiments on maids of the castle under Miranda's supervision.

"So you implanted the cadou into your maids? Is that what Miranda came for the first time I met her?"

"Yes. The experiments still take place in the laboratory in the dungeons." A shiver crawls up your spine and doesn't go unnoticed by Alcina. There it is again, that push and pull between viewing Alcina as the woman you love and the ruthless murderer she is.

"You put them through the same torture that you went through?"

"Essentially. Most of the moroaică, were dead maids before implanting the cadou into them. But yes, some maids were alive when they were experimented on."

"Why would you do that? If you knew how horrible it was, why would you knowingly put someone else through the same thing?!"

"It's complicated, draga. Mother Miranda did not give me a choice in the beginning. And in order to survive, I needed flesh and blood. I was revolted at first, truly. The thought of killing people, eating them, drinking their blood was awful. But as time went on, I became accustomed to what I had to do to survive."

"Do you enjoy it?"

"Enjoy what?"

"Killing people, eating them, drinking their blood? All of it."

"Do you really want to know the answer to that?"

You pause for a moment to consider her question. Is that really an answer you need? Will you be able to live with yourself if you say no, will you be able to sleep at night not knowing how she feels? Although you have a feeling you already know what her answer will be. What if she says yes? Will you be able to live with yourself for loving someone who enjoys such horrific things? No matter how you answer her question, no answer is going to sit right with you.

The newfound relationship between you and Alcina is being rebuilt on trust and honesty. How can you possibly keep that going if you don't give her the opportunity to be honest with you? Even if it's at your expense. No, you don't want to know the answer, but she deserves the opportunity to be honest with you.

"No, not really. But it would be wrong for me to deny you the chance to be honest with me about these things. So, no, I don't want to know, but you deserve the chance to tell me the truth, regardless of how I'm going to feel about it."

"Draga, are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Ask me again."

"Do you enjoy killing people?"

"Yes."

Even though you knew what her answer was going to be deep down, her confession washed over you like a bucket of cold water. Here you were, laying in the arms of a true predator. Someone who enjoyed killing, who took pleasure in torturing people. She could rip you to shreds in an instant and would probably be able to find the joy in it even though she loves you.

Yet somehow, you still loved her. It made your stomach twist in all of the wrong ways knowing you were in love with someone like that. It made you begin to question your own sanity. Your mind raced a million miles an hour as you tried to sort through the thousands of thoughts and emotions that began to surface. Alcina was well aware of the fact that you were struggling to process what she said, that you were trying to make sense of it. She sat there in silence with her arms wrapped around you for a few minutes, allowing you time to process everything. She finally broke the silence when she felt you were starting to spiral.

"I know it's not easy to understand, or to accept." Alcina says, brushing your hair away from your face and pulling you back to reality. "I know how you see me, how you see the girls. You see the parts of us that the rest of the world refuses to believe exists. You see the humanity in us and I cannot begin to describe how wonderful it has been to be viewed as human instead of a monster. But we are both. We are humans. Mutants would perhaps be a more accurate term. Regardless, we are humans and monsters, draga mea." You recoil a little when you hear Alcina call herself and the girls monsters. It makes your blood want to boil. "I despise when people call us monsters, I truly do. But part of the reason that I hate it so much is because there is truth to it. It's an ugly, horrible truth, but it's the truth. We are monsters, draga. Even though we are more than that, it's still apart of who we are."

"Then what does that make me? Does it mean that I've lost my humanity? Don't get me wrong, I hate that you enjoy hurting people, it makes me feel sick. But it doesn't make me love you or the girls any less. That scares me Alcina."

Alcina's knuckle rests under your chin and she guides your gaze up towards her. Her golden eyes are glowing and you lose yourself in them for a moment.

"It makes you the most kind, most understanding person I've ever met. I never thought that anyone would ever be able to see past the horrors. That we would only ever be seen as monsters. Then you came along. For the first time since I became what I am today, a human saw me as more than just a monster. You saw the humanity in me I thought I lost long ago. You have every right to be scared, but I promise, no matter what, I will keep you safe. I will never harm you and I will do everything to ensure that no harm ever comes to you again."

And you believed her. There are probably hundreds, thousands of people who would call you stupid for believing her, but none of them know Alcina like you do. If she says you're safe, that she would never hurt you, that she would go to the ends of the earth to protect you, it's the truth.

She goes on to explain one particular experiment where the cadou was used on three maids. Over the course of a week, blowflies consumed their bodies and eventually assimilated their DNA and were able to reform as the maids. They became the Countess's three daughters. Bela woke up first, then Cassandra and then finally Daniela.

"They were all deemed failures, unacceptable vessels for Eva because of their vulnerability to the cold. None of them remember their lives before the cadou implantation and when they awoke I immediately formed a bond with them. Miranda decided to gift the girls to me, for me to raise as my own. After decades of being in this castle alone and isolated, aside from the maids, I finally had a family of my own, three beautiful daughters. It was the happiest day of my life."

You look up at Alcina and immediately notice the beautiful glow in her eyes as she thought back on the memory. A smile ghosting her lips as she talked about the girls. Her eyes slowly shift down to you and lock with yours. She leans down and places a kiss on your forehead and holds you tighter.

"So the mold I drank came from the Black God?"

"Yes, although there were only traces of the mold in the salve. It was not composed entirely of mold which is why you remained unaffected by it. I suspect that only drinking half of the bottle and throwing up most of what you did drink was also a factor."

"Will I have a higher tolerance to it now since I've drank it?"

"I do not know draga. Truthfully, I would never like to find out. The risks associated with infecting you with the mold or the cadou are dangerous. I will fight to the death to keep you from experiencing it, to keep you safe. To keep me from losing you. I can't lose you draga mea. I can't. I won't." Her tone becomes harsh and protective as her grip around you tightens. "Especially after today. I thought you were- I stopped hearing your heartbeat- you were on the floor, in a pool of blood-" Alcina shakes her head and squeezes her eyes shut, holding back tears. "I can't lose you. I'm certain it would kill me."

Even in her tight grip, you manage to turn around and wrap your arms around her neck. Alcina cradles the back of your head with one hand and the other sprawls out across your back.

"I love you, Alcina."

"Si eu te iubesc draga mea." (I love you too my darling.)

The two of you hold each other for a few minutes. Never have you felt more vulnerable, more in love, or felt this close to Alcina as you lay there skin-to-skin.

Neither of you realized the bath water had gone cold until goosebumps covered across your skin.

Alcina holds you close to her, her hand still against your back, and leans forward to pull the drain plug. She stands with you in her arms and grabs an extra large towel to wrap around the both of you. Exhaustion begins to make itself known in your body as she carries you into the bedroom. Alcina dries the both of you off and sits you down on the bed. She walks over to the wardrobe and pulls out two nightgowns in two very different sizes. The smaller one for you, the much larger one for herself.

Once you're both dressed, Alcina pulls down the duvet and you wiggle underneath it. She gracefully slides under the sheets next to you and covers you both with the duvet once more. You cuddle into Alcina as close as you possibly can and she chuckles. Sliding her arm underneath you, Alcina rolls onto her back and pulls you on top of her.

"Goodnight my love." She says as she places a kiss on your forehead.

"Goodnight Alcina." Your voice barely a whisper as you drift off to sleep.

When you wake up your whole body feels cold and sore. As your eyes flicker open, it takes them a moment to adjust to the dim light. You have no idea where you are. Sitting up in a daze, you realize you're laying on a cold, stone floor. A piercing scream jolts you out of your daze and you stand up.

"Alcina?" You call out with a shaking voice.

A second scream rings out and your eyes dart around as you try to figure out your surroundings.

"Where am- is this the dungeon?" You think to yourself. Another scream echoes through the air.

Turning to your left you see the rusted cell door is open and you step out into the dungeon. More noises echo down the hall and you follow them as your heart beats wildly in your chest.

Terrifying cackles and giggles grow louder and louder. The hall opens up to a larger room and you see three cloaked figures bending over something. The closer you get you realize they're on top of someone, a maid, who's flailing underneath them.

"Daniela? Bela? Cass?"

The girls turn around and you immediately notice there's blood covering their faces and running down the front of their dresses. Their eyes are wide and wild. Looking down, you freeze when you see Stefana on the floor, reaching out towards you. She has massive chunks bitten from her flesh.

"Help me! Please!" She screams. "They're monsters!"

You take a few shaking steps backwards and fall as the girls walk towards you.

"Alcina!" You cry out.

The sound of a dark chuckle fills your ears and a figure emerges from the shadows. Looking up, you freeze in fear when you see Alcina. Her eyes are swirling gold and she has the most sinister look on her face. She walks up to Stefana and looks down, her smile growing wider. Alcina reaches down and lifts Stefana by her shirt.

"Please-" Stefana begins to scream but Alcina bites down hard on her throat and rips it out. Blood splatters everywhere and you let out a blood-curdling scream.

Alcina tosses Stefana's body away and continues her walk towards you. The girls step aside so their mother could pass and Alcina stops in front of you.

She bends down to get closer to you. You can see the blood dripping from her chin, the crimson color blending in perfectly with her lipstick. You can smell the fresh blood, see how it coats her teeth. You look into her eyes and you don't see the soft, loving look you're so used to. In it's place is a feral, wild, terrifying look.

"Alcina," you sob.

"What's the matter, draga? Are you afraid?" Her tone is condescending, like she's mocking you. All you can do is nod your head as tears fall down your cheeks.

Alcina snatches you by the neck and stands up to her full height, keeping you eye-level with her. You dig your nails into her wrist, desperately trying to get her to let you go.

"Alcina, please! You said you would never hurt me!"

Her laugh is low and dark, it shoots fear straight through you.

"And you actually believed me? Silly girl." She says before she unsheathes her claws.

"Please! Alcina! I love you! Please don't, please!"

"This is what you get when you love a monster."

She reels her arm back and slashes at you. The last thing you see are her swirling gold eyes before everything goes dark.

[gallusrostromegalus]

I need more of this force sensitive teenager 😭

(With reference tho this post)

Attachment is Forbidden. To hold on too long, against the current of reality, is to bind and strangle, to cause suffering and grief.

Attachment is Essential. To become disconnected from the world around you is to fall to cruelty and madness, to cause suffering and grief.

The Force is very complicated and only vaguely comprehensible to three pounds of electrified jello piloting a meat suit and specialized to sort different kinds of berries. It is a knife's edge to walk and the blade cuts and cuts at those with the force until they learn to wield it. When you seize the edge of attachment and the blade is in your hand, the decision is yours to decide what to preserve, and what to cut away from yourself. Can you really be the Judge of which relationships, which laws, which lives are worthy to keep and which to discard?

The Jedi and Sith agree on this one facet- Yes. Yes, you can, you should, and you Must, or what is the point? The dispute is whether to trust in your own judgment, or to attempt to divine and follow the will of The Force.

There is, of course, another option.

There is always another option with the force. The question is always, is that option worth the cost?

---

The morality of choice is not on her mind when she discovers the other option. What's on her mind is grief, the final hell of the descent of fear into anger into suffering. But the fear wasn't hers, the anger wasn't hers, even the suffering wasn't entirely hers- Her parents and siblings alike bear the emotional and physical scars of her inability to control this- but the grief, the grief is overwhelming and far too personal to be anyone else's.

It's not like anyone else can mourn the life she should have had, dead on the cold ground in front of her like a carrion corpse. She can see it so clearly in the Force, it's her as she should have been, loved and respected and loved and encouraged and loved and free to grow into the shape she should and loved and loved and LOVED- but there her theoretical future self is, dead on the ground, strangled.

And despite breaking, her heart insists on beating.

If this is the final step of the descent into darkness, and she is not dead, what's the next one to take?

Well, immediately, big ones, very fast, and very far away from here.

She runs away, away from the institutions, away from the medication that never helped, away from the frightened eyes, away from the exasperated sighs and hands that dragged and the 'its for your own good's, and into the night.

Barefoot, over the rough ground, over the sharp stones and uphill into the mountains, into the desert away from the lights of town, into the night. She's probably bleeding, her lungs burn and the windy night is cold. At the crest of the Hill she stops, wheezing and sobbing, only able to scream and cry.

The lights of the town (or at least, the few not effected by the power outage) are still close. It wouldn't take long to run back home, especially not downhill, to crawl home and scrape and beg forgiveness, it won't happen again-

...except that it would. It always did.

And now she'd crossed the line from "Shattered furniture" to "possibly leveling part of a building". And there was no going back. Police would get involved for real this time. No more institutions would take something capable of destroying a building. Can't stay home, where she'd hurt another member of her family. Can't go somewhere private if I'm a living wrecking ball. Can't be in public, twitching and chattering, frightening people. There is, of course, another option.

She looked down the other side of the hill, deeper into the only-sort-of-explored so-called wasteland of thorny succulents, bare rocks and unforgiving temperatures.

The question is, as always, is it worth the cost?

Well, heading back to civilization cost what was left of her dignity, and quite possibly the lives of her family. And she was fuck all out of pride, and not willing to gamble with their accounts.

Into the wild it was.

Of course- she considered, starting her descent down the other side- the desert wilderness is no place for a barefoot twelve year old, especially not alone and possibly being hunted by law enforcement. It's a place for the toughest of beasts, of nocturnal horrors and all things red of tooth and claw.

"Can't be myself anywhere, can I?" She asks, hysterical. She winces at another sharp rock. "Be nice to have proper paws or something-"

She stops.

There is, of course, another option.

---

The Jedi and Sith agree on another point too.

You can use the force to shape reality. Any part you want! Change minds with a wave of your hand! Defy gravity with extremely direct eye contact! Generate lighting by thinking about it really hard!

But they both hold a secret taboo.

As much as the Jedi profess detachment and humility and selflessness, and as much as the Sith proclaim self-determination and experimentation and manifestation of vision, they hold the same secret rule-

When you grasp the Blade of Attachment, and are deciding how to sculpt the future, don't turn the blade upon yourself.

Like how there is a line in the sand between shattered furniture and demolishing a building, or one between parental rights and child welfare, there is a line between using the force to alter your body as a means of preservation of the self, and using it to transform the self.

The line is so secret, it's rarely discussed and even then only in metaphor. It's called The Rubicon, after a mythical river a foolish emperor once crossed.

There are of course, those who have Crossed The Rubicon- Darth Nihilus and Darth Sion come to mind, though there are some suspiciously long-lived and more-hands-having-than-circumstances-would suggest Jedi as well- there's always someone who will decide the forbidden option is worth the cost. In this case, the currency is flesh, and to an extent, the self.

...But if you are twelve years old and already changing and grew up told your self as it is is repulsive and dangerous, so you grew alienated from that self to the point of being a stranger to the person everyone seemed to know and that self was useless in your present circumstances anyway...

The Force shines. It shines bright and beautiful and even the crude matter of life is luminous in the dark, and it is so, so easy to see how a hand is just an elongated paw.

She runs.

She runs down the hill, cries of pain now intermingled with those of discovery and the joy of creation. She runs toward the desert, towards the beautiful night-blooming flowers, towards the blissful silence, towards the personal space measured in hundreds of square miles, toward freedom, towards a new future self, and away from the carrion corpse of her youth.

There is a river at the bottom of the hill, and as her eyes open to new possibilities and spectra, she sees how it's nearly entirely underground, and how the ox-bow at the bottom of the hill is only where it briefly breaches the surface and she runs toward it, gait shifting awkwardly under her but everything was always awkward, but now it's awkward with Purpose-

-She leaps across the river, and when she lands palm-first on the other side, the things on the ends of her arms are no longer hands.

---

The Apprentice awakens with a terrified shriek. Her bones ache with sympathetic sensations of shape-change, winded and shaking. A dream, a dream, it was all just a terrible dream-

Her Master stumbles into the room to check on her, legs not feeling quite right, and one look between them belies the awful truth.

It was not just a dream.

They embrace, too tight and fingers digging into clothing, tears hot, faces hidden in each other's shoulders, trying to find comfort in shared horror and grief. Something happened earlier, when they heard something break, and now they were bound to this stranger's destiny.

Attachment and Detachment are the choices you make the shape reality.

Attachment and Detachment are forced upon you no matter what choices you make.

The Force is very complicated and only sort of comprehensible.

[jayvolans]

𝐥𝗼𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝗼𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐢𝐫 | 𝐚𝐥𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐚𝗺 𝐬𝗺𝐚𝐮

𝐗𝐈𝐕. 𝐂𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐒

Y: Good morning everyone, and welcome to another segment of our Stellar Lunar analysis!

A: As I’m sure you can tell, this was not scheduled, but some of you reached out to ask for help on a latent theme analysis of chapter 7.

Y: Wow, your intros have gotten so much better! Didn’t think you had it in you~

A: …thanks. I guess.

Y: Alright, enough chit chat let’s get to it!

A: *unintelligible noise*

A: Please, please, please tell me you don’t actually believe that…

Y: And why wouldn’t I? You can’t take everything she says at face value!

A: Yes, you can. Not everything has a deeper meaning.

Y: And I would agree, but in this instance our narrator has been proved time and time again to be completely unreliable because of her mental state. The whole point of this is that we absolutely can’t trust everything she says.

A: I guess I… didn’t consider that. So with that being said, what do you think she meant by her statement?

Y: Oh my god… is the Alhaitham agreeing with me AND asking me a question, all in the same sentence?! I think I’ve seen it all!

A: Technically it was two sentences.

Y: Ugh, way to ruin the moment.

A: But you-

Y: One of these days we’re going to have to agree on something!

A: As soon as you start making sensible points we will.

Y: What makes you right? Our classmates love my point of view!

A: …

Y: Whatever.

A: Anyways, hopefully I’ll rub off on you so you can look at this logically.

Y: None of this book is logical though! That’s like- the entire point! And the seventh chapter is the most convoluted and non-straightforward part!

A: You’ve… read the whole book?

Y: You haven’t?

A: Of course I have.

Y: We’ll talk about the ending later.

A: Agreed.

A: I think I might strangle you.

Y: Cut.

A: What?

Y: Cut the cameras. Deadass.

A: Can’t win the debate so now you have to fight me?

Y: For your information, I’d win both, no questions asked!

A: Oh yeah?

And the next thing you know, Alhaitham is towering over you, haughty eyes looking down on you. Only slightly daunted, you stood up to meet his glare.

It was quiet in the room, the only sound being his quiet breathing and the ticking clock. “This isn’t a fight you can win,” Alhaitham grinned, but it was less mocking than you expected.

In fact, his narrowed eyes danced with mirth, taking you by surprise. “Oh please, I could take a nerd like you down any day,” you huffed, hands on your hips. Alhaitham snorted out a laugh as he stepped closer, and now you were chest to chest. “I’d like to see you try.”

Your frown deepened at his taunt. “You’re insufferable sometimes, Alhaitham,” you bit out. There had been an odd tension that had been present the whole recording, and now it was reaching its peak.

Chest to chest, nose to nose, he was insufferable to you, but you couldn’t get enough of your back and forth with him, couldn’t get enough of him. And maybe it was just the lingering heightened emotions from your near arguments, but you couldn’t help but want to be closer still.

It might’ve been wishful thinking, but from the way he was staring, you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same way. “God, you talk too much,” He hissed.

But before you could make a retort, his lips were pressed feverishly to yours. Your noise of surprise was muffled by his lips as he pressed your body closer to his.

It felt as though a haze was clouding your mind and stealing your judgment, but you couldn’t stop your arms from curling themselves around his neck.

He was intoxicating, and you were falling deep. The way his lips moved against yours was a mix of precision and passion that pulled you further into him.

His hand carefully cradled your jaw, allowing him to deepen the kiss more than you thought possible. You needed to breathe, and thought he would too, but Alhaitham seemed wholly content to only breathe you in, showing no signs of stopping.

You had to force yourself to pull away, but you couldn’t find yourself regretting it when you saw his expression. Eyes half lidded, lips swollen, and cheeks dusted pink… it was not something you could’ve ever imagined seeing on Alhaitham’s face, but the last thing you were doing was complaining.

“What was that?” You mumbled, unable to escape his gaze. And just like that, his infuriating smirk was back in full force. “I told you; you talk too much.”

You groaned, flicking his forehead. “Shut up. Anyways, we definitely have to cut that part out,” You sighed, but you weren’t at all displeased, and it was obvious that Alhaitham knew it too.

“Why? I think it adds to the argument,” He shrugged.

A: With all of that being said, I hope this was as productive for all of you as it was for me.

Y: Wait, what’s that supposed to mean?

A: I think you know, yn.

Y: I-?!

A: Anyways, if you have anymore questions reach out to either Professor Lisa or us. Anything to add, yn?

Y: H-huh?

A: Tch. You were complaining about my intros when it’s really your outros that are the problem…

Y: Hey-!

A: Goodbye and thanks for watching.

Y: Alha-!

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝗼𝐮𝐬❧ 𝗺𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭❧ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭❧

:D?

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 (open)❧

@ruisann @imma-too-many-fandoms @coffeecasket @kokxm1 @lunastarjay @dksfl920 @chiisananingen @itonashi @pidgey-ontheloose @ceylestia @jinxnotpowder @natsum-s @xirthia @adorablezhui @sunsethw4 @deartoru @baelloraa @nambii @simplyxsinned @aixaingela @whipped-for-fictionals @keithsaccount @blayxe @nekogakuro @richxelle @rifran @flutterawayx @nolvngerhvman @celestair @klementime @apinu @http-mewchuu @phoenix-eclipses @court-jester-stuff @dustofthedailylife @albedos-world @taoluv @salamiwrites @imkaaayy @turtl3-warr1or @zombieb1t3 @nachotrash @xiaossocksniffer @duckyyyx @spilloverlove @thenightsflower @feverish-dove @evilenchantresss @sharkiestory @yomamastitties

[rollofleaf]

Owlcatober Day 5: Forgiveness

Finally some Sakura stuff! I'm not entirely happy with how it turned out, but I have a schedule.

Get it together, Sakura. It’s nothing. Just baring your truest self and revealing your most carefully-hidden secret to a man with no filter and very judgmental views on the fey. Nothing at all! The kitsune sighed and steeled herself. Camellia had figured it out, she had to tell Ulbrig. Juggling two relationships at once, even if both were purely sexual, required some finesse and balance, and part of that was making sure the two were on equal footing with regards to her. What she told one, she told the other, and what she did for one she did for the other. At least, in theory. If Ulbrig ever started committing unjustified murders, she’d cover for him!

Outwardly, Sakura was a devout, if unusual, cleric of Arshea, one of the empyreal lords and a goddess of sex, beauty, and freedom. In reality, she served the Green Mother, the fey goddess of lust, intrigue, and carnivorous plants. It was a helpful cover, allowing her to pass as someone devoted to good gods without forcing her to change her behavior much. She was almost certain Anevia had figured out the truth (she would need to have a talk with her about that), and Camellia had also managed to piece it together. It was time Ulbrig knew as well. Backwards as he often was, she was fond of the barbarian. Hopefully, this wouldn’t chase him off.

Sakura made her way to her garden in the middle of Drezen. She lamented that she couldn’t keep the massive carnivorous plants she loved, but that would be too obvious. Ulbrig spent most of his time here, it was one of the few places he could still see the kinds of plants that used to cover Sarkoris. She approached from behind, swallowing and steeling her resolve before she spoke up. “Ulbrig. Can we talk?” Honestly was… Unusual, for Sakura. It was almost heresy, but for once she thought it was necessary.

He was squatting before a pot, carefully tending the plant within. He turned towards Sakura with a slight smile. “Evenin’. Of course we can talk.” He turned around at sat down, looking at her expectantly.

Sakura flinched and waved back and forth on her feet. This was already harder than she thought. “Ah, yes. Well… You know that I’m a priestess of Arshea…” He nodded, staring at her with those big, dumb brown eyes. “Ah, except, I’m… Not.”

“Eh? Oh, sorry. I get all these southern and eastern gods turned up around, can never remember which is which.”

“W-what? No, I mean, I lie about being one of Arshea’s faithful.” She had to make sure to keep her voice low and kept glancing around in case someone was watching. Her claws sunk into the unholy symbol around her neck, disguised to resemble Arshea’s. 

At least that part of the revelation didn’t seem to bother him much as he continued to question her, “Uh, huh. Um, why?”

“Well, ah…” Sakura mentally reprimanded herself for being so flustered about this. “It’s… Convenient. Most people know Arshea is good, but don’t know that much about her. And I do agree with most of her edicts!”

Ulbrig’s eyes narrowed slightly. “What, you one of those sorcerers that pretends to be holy? Lies and says her power’s from the spirits when it’s actually just foul arcane?”

That genuinely caught Sakura off-guard. Did people do that? Perhaps she could have been doing the reverse, claiming her powers were arcane rather than divine… No, thoughts for another time. “No, not at all! They are divine, just… Most people don’t approve of the actual source…” She was ever so thankful that Ulbrig trusted her, else that would have derailed the whole conversation.

“Oh.” That seemed to relax him. “Hmph, well, who cares who it’s from. Long as it’s not one of them oglins. It’s… Not from oglins, is it?” 

Sakura withered, uncharacteristically embarrassed at his piercing gaze. Perhaps she should just strip and offer her body, move past this and keep up the lie… No. No! She was going to do the right thing for once in her life. “Well, it’s… Not from demons, that much is true.” He seemed to relax. “B-because it’s from the fey. My true goddess is the Green Mother.” She decided to omit the Green Mother’s portfolio in case that made it worse.

“So it is from oglins.” She winced as she could see the rage in his eyes. He was trying his hardest to hold it back. She had lied to him. This whole time, the woman he had been sleeping with, the woman he loved, was working for the same monsters that tore apart his home! But, some reason cut through the cloud of fury upon his mind. Ulbrig didn’t care much about the difference between demons and fey, they were all the same to him, but… Sakura would always get defensive when he indicated he thought as much. She hated the demons, as much as he did. Ulbrig never cared about the difference between different types of oglins, but maybe he should. If this fey goddess opposed the demons, maybe… Perhaps he could tolerate it. At least for now. He sat there in thought for minutes, Sakura dreading the moment when he opened his mouth again. At last, he spoke up. “Sakura. Need you to answer something honestly.”

“Y-yes?”

“Y’said a while ago that you wanted to restore Sarkoris. See it green again. Was that also a lie?” There was a frightening calm in his voice.

Sakura answered plainly and honestly. “It wasn’t a lie. I want this place to bloom again. All the life that was stolen from Sarkoris… I think the Green Mother guided me here to restore the land.”

Ulbrig nodded and took a few deep breaths to calm herself. “Alright. Then… I’m still sort of mad. Mostly about you lying, but… I guess you lie about it to everyone, so it’s not as bad. I don’t… I don’t get it? This whole oglin… Guess I should say fey. This whole fey worshippin’ thing. But… I forgive you for it.”

Sakura tilted her head. That sparked rage in her, she didn’t even quite know why. “You… W-what do you mean you ‘forgive’ me?”

He shrugged. “I forgive you for following an oglin. Fey. Sorry.”

“I don’t need forgiveness! I’ve done nothing wrong! I’m just… I’m trying to be honest. This is who I am. I worship the Green Mother. She’s given me life, and purpose. I just… You deserve to see behind the mask.” She winced and took a step back. That was always what it was about. The curse of the kitsune, to forever wear a mask. Even when they tried to be honest, they could only ever show half of themselves. And because of that, Sakura had been cast out, taken in by outcasts, and forced to wear yet another mask because of it. She needed no forgiveness. If anything, the world should be asking for her forgiveness.

Ulbrig didn’t understand. He was just like the so-called civilized, fearing the truth of the wilds and seeing deceit in the mask forced upon Sakura. “I understand, Sakura. You were bewitched by them. Lured in by those puck’s false promises and whatnot. But it’s alright. You’re not with the oglins that destroyed Sarkoris.”

Sakura’s fists clenched and she let out a mocking laugh. “You don’t get it. Of course you don’t, no one ever does… I choose to be like this! I wasn’t tricked, I wasn’t bewitched, I was thrown out for being a shapeshifter and taken in! You don’t get to ‘forgive’ me! I don’t need forgiveness!” She was shouting now, though she hadn’t realized it.

Ulbrig pushed down his anger, trying his hardest to be understanding and compassionate. “Sakura, listen.”

“No. I’m done listening to you. I… I thought you were different… You’re just like everyone else that cast me out and spit on me because they think I choose to wear my masks.” She had had enough of close-minded fools. She stood up and walked away with a hiss.

[a-world-in-grey]

You might not need another au but do you want it?

Think of how much fun it would be, Sola and Ardyn snarking at each other in the middle of the throne room and before the entire court.

The resemblance is uncanny.

You can track which of the nobles noticed it by how much they pale, their polite masks turning a little bit tense.

You. Are an enabling gremlin.

Plopping this in the Combined Retinue Nox/Sola au, because this is what my brain finally decided to spit out at 2 in the morning.

@secret-engima have an early Christmas present, I guess?

.

“If I have to dress up, Uncle,” his niece tells him fiercely, “then so do you.”

Ardyn raises a brow from the bench he’s languidly lounging on, watching his Tailor circle Sola with sharp eyes as she tugs on the black fabric of the dress she’s wrangled Sola into wearing for her upcoming Coming of Age, unfazed by the equally black scowl on the princess’ face.

Beside him, Nox is firmly pretending to nap on his Shield’s shoulder. Axis has his gaze glued to the book in his hand.

It seems he’ll have no allies from that quarter.

Admittedly, Ardyn had perhaps been enjoying Sola’s irritation too much, and hadn’t bothered to smother his growing amusement with every dark mutter Sola had made about protocol and where the court could shove said protocol.

He gives Sola an indulgent smirk. “I highly doubt I’m on the guest list, my dear. Given the current state of international politics.”

Not that he’d let the lack of an invitation stop him from attending his niece and nephew’s birthday party.

From the glare Sola levels at the mirror, and the minute stiffening of Nox’s spine, Ardyn has the feeling his niblings will ensure he is invited, regardless of anyone else’s feelings on the matter.

Nox’s eyes actually open a sliver when Sola’s magic abruptly curls, all mischievous glee with an edge of bared teeth. His nephew warily eyes his twin and the grin growing on her face.

Ardyn does not share Nox’s apprehension. He rather thinks his niece should smile like that more often.

“A suit for your Uncle, then?” Penelopeia asks archly.

“If you would be so kind.” Sola replies before Ardyn can protest. Sola’s blue eyes narrow on him through the mirror. “Black for the shirt, instead of the suit, I think. Gold as an accent color, but otherwise I have full faith in your judgment.”

To Penelopeia’s credit, his Tailor pauses for but a moment. “Of course, Your Highness.”

Ardyn gives Sola a long look. His niece knows very well protocol prohibits him from wearing black. He is neither a (known) member of the royal family nor in sworn service to them. Sola cares little for protocol and tradition, especially when it gets in her way, but even she can’t get away with flouting such an old and respected tradition. Not like this. “Niece.” He warns.

Sola raises her chin, defiant. “Do you trust me?”

Ardyn sighs. Smiles reassuringly at the fierce girl who’s been Nox and Ardyn’s staunchest supporter these past near three years. “Yes.”

Sola nods, and that is that.

.

Copia Egestas adores her Queen.

Sola’s last minute changes to the twins’ Coming of Age gave her a solid week of extra work to do - with help from Ignis, who volunteered on account of her being nearly six months pregnant - hunting through the Archives and preparing her arguments before she and Sola sat down in front of the King and finally told him exactly who would be presenting his daughter at her Coming of Age. Presenting both his children, in fact.

Unsurprisingly, Regis was not pleased. But between Sola’s staunch refusal to change her mind and Copia’s presented precedents, he reluctantly conceded.

Now, eyeing everyone as they wait to enter the ballroom, Copia can only feel a vicious anticipation.

Nox and Sola make a striking pair in black and gold. Both of them have their hair carefully pulled back, decorated further with gold. Nox still wears his usual earrings, the only silver on him as he’d declined the offer for golden versions, and Sola has mirrored him with a set of earrings arranged in the opposite ears. Not the same earrings, but the studs and climber are similar enough in shape to achieve the desired effect.

Copia’s sleeveless black dress is cut to flatter her pregnant figure, a gold shawl for her shoulders because six months pregnant and she gets uncomfortably warm now that the summer months are upon them, which also why she’s elected for an updo instead of letting her thick curls tumble loose. Unlike Sola, Copia is in comfortable flats instead of heels, again on account of being pregnant.

Axis is in a black suit jacket with gold details, and his Clan’s purple and green tartan. His hair’s been styled back from his face, but otherwise remains free.

Axis isn’t the only one wearing purple and green. Nox has the shifting purple-green galahdite in his ears, hair, and decorating his cufflinks. Sola’s chosen a selection of amethysts and emeralds to decorate her gold jewelry, while Copia had been gifted a pair of ebony hair sticks topped with amethyst and emerald carved cabochons.

(Copia knows just enough about Galahdian culture to know to tell Penny the goal, and follow the woman’s instructions on how to support Axis without overstepping cultural boundaries. The result, she is told, is a careful blend of Lucian and Galahdian color codes, but Copia has never seen Axis struck speechless before so she makes a mental note to commend Penny and her recommended jewelers for their hard work.)

With Ardyn, however, Penny has evidently decided to take refuge in audacity.

The suit is a lovely shade of dark purple, decorated with an intricate pattern of - much to Copia’s amusement - peacock feathers. At a glance they could be mistaken for phoenix feathers, certainly, but Copia knows her birds, and those feathers belong to the phoenix’s non-magical dramatic cousins. Studded at the eye of each feather are small galahdite stones to match Nox and Axis.

Under the suit, Ardyn’s shirt is black, which will no doubt give the Court conniptions and the press a field day, despite them following protocol to a T. Instead of a traditional tie, Ardyn’s kept his usual scarf, but in a rich green. How it doesn’t clash with the purple, Copia doesn’t know, but she knows Ardyn’s vest is a matching shade of green. Ardyn has a gold and galahdite lapel pin, linked by a fine gold chain to a paired piece on the front of his breast pocket.

The master of ceremonies glances over at them, expression half-expectant, half-despairing.

It turns to resignation when Ardyn and Sola gift him identical smirks.

Nox sighs.

Copia hides a grin behind her hand. Oh yes, tonight is going to be so very entertaining, with uncle and niece actively working together.

She wonders how many people will notice the family resemblance before the end of the night?

[deathsbestgirl]

Oooh, saw your tags and now I'm curious! What are the differences between my thoughts on Never Again and yours? Always open to hearing other opinions-- helps me clarify my own or add to them. :DDDDD

okay like i told you this is just going to be funny now. first because where i diverge really seems kind of insignificant to me, because it doesn't change any of your points or the ~outcome of how i think about never again as a whole. or really, t's about the evolution of scully's position, so it isn't different? second, because i literally need to shout about one specific part. it's so real. so anyway, onward.

the referenced post. most important part quoted below, but read the whole post bc it's good!! (and i really don't know much about the bts or writers but it's cool to learn about!!)

so specifically this is what you say in the context of never again. you lay it out simply and perfectly.

As much as Scully denies her actions aren't "about you" to Mulder, Never Again isn't solely about daddy issues or feeling trapped-- it's feeling trapped by being second best. Romance was explicitly written into the dna of this episode: she takes the rose from the grave-- someone's lasting legacy on their loved one's life-- extrapolates meaning from it behind Mulder's desk, and deflates when Mulder runs off to his vacation that even he rates as secondary to his quest (Mulder missed her entire point: needing his reassurance and reinforcement, needing his speech in the FTF hallway; and Scully missed that he missed it.) When she meets Jerse, she's flattered by his sole focus on her, takes his card, but still plans to leave; Mulder has been calling, but when he reconnects and hides the fact he missed her behind "how's the quest going?", it kicks Scully in the shins and she decides to change plans and meet up with Ed. "The tattoo you deserve" and one night stand with Ed drags down Scully's view of herself, in hindsight-- how did she not see that he was psychotic?-- and the final scene in the basement is tinted with second guesses of her own character: more specifically, what Scully thinks she has the right to ask from Mulder, doubting her own judgment (a theme she continually struggles with throughout the series.) If she sits and remains in the basement, Scully has to accept that Mulder won't move them forward; and she does, choosing to be Starbuck to this (in her perspective) doomed (relation)ship because at least Mulder needs her... which is why The End and Fight the Future hit her so hard, convincing her she has no use in his life, period.

obviously we agree that mulder doesn't get it from the start. you nail what hurts scully perfectly, what she needs from him. i truly think scully could wait forever as long as she knows they're on the same page. and here, she isn't.

but specifically, the part i want to shout about: the bit about scully's judgment, and what she can ask of mulder. like YES. i just don't think i've seen anyone say this and you're just right. you're so right. how often do we see scully struggle with her judgment? i think she does when diana shows up and it's part of the reason she needs mulder to trust her judgment in those circumstances. there are so few times that scully is SO sure about what's happening. she tries so hard to be rational, the voice of reason. but it's like her desire scares her, and i think that's a lot of what's happening in never again. because what can she ask of mulder? especially when it looks to her like he doesn't want her, doesn't need her, doesn't trust her with the x files. why is she there at all?

now, me being nitpicky? idk really. "it's feeling trapped by being second best." i think this is right. it's just that. at first, she was okay with this. because they were partners, the x files are his life. she thought she understood this and accepted it. at the beginning in season one, of course she did! they didn't have a personal relationship yet. everything was all about the work, and in never again, it's all about them with the work shrouding their relationship. scully definitely thinks they have something and she thinks they might be on the same page, but he seems to confirm the opposite. it's just work and there isn't really room for her, or a personal relationship. so she is absolutely reconciling if she can keep on this way. if the work and following mulder and being what he needs is enough...if she even has a choice. and she does, and reconciling her choice to stay with what she wants is the struggle.

so really?? i don't disagree. i just wanted to talk about how being second best became a concern the longer she was on the x files, the more her feelings grew (or maybe the more she recognized them), her feelings scaring her and what they mean for mulder & the x files & her life, etc etc.

SO all of that to say, i actually agree with you. i just love the slow evolution and consistency of their characters & relationship <3 now please share your thoughts on my nonsense!!

[coridallasmultipass]

Aaaaaa am hi gushing about DaveRose across timelines

Alpha Dave and Alpha Rose are like soulmates (and normally, and as an aromantic person, 'soulmates' is such a squicky concept and kinda terrifies me, but when I think about Dave and Rose and both Betas and Alphas both dying heroically together, I just... ohhhmygoddddd... it looks so natural.)

They're like the last ones standing before judgment day, and while they know they're gonna die, but they can face whatever comes next as long as they have each other. They can't imagine being in a world without the other.

In other ways, Rose is so good for Dave, like he can open up to her in ways he can't with anyone else. Yes, Rose is, of course, going to pick him apart and examine his insides (how could she not when Dave is so deliciously... Dave), but Dave is totally fine with Rose doing exactly that, he feels safe around her, and she's the one constant in his life, and so he actually kind of really likes getting picked apart by Rose, and actively seeks that out, because he can fully trust her to put everything back where it was when they started. It's like going in for a deep clean - it's gonna feel rough, he might cry a bit, but when he comes out on the other side he feels a little more genuinely himself.

Like, Dave can't do that with anyone else, Karkat doesn't know what to do with him if he opens up like it doesn't come intuitively when they're together, Dirk is a tinkerer especially with feelings he doesn't understand and therefore Dave still has to be on guard about opening up with him, Jade doesn't want to get that feels-deep in Dave, John doesn't 'get' Dave and Dave doesn't feel comfortable enough opening up to John like that even tho they're best bros, and, well, Terezi is Terezi.

Rose is the only one he can really trust with his entire being.

Also, since I'm the gayest motherfucker I know... Can I also talk about the big gay energy they both have, too? Like. On the surface, someone might be like, 'Oh, that's a plain old hetero couple right there.' BUT NO. THESE ARE LIKE THE TWO GAYEST CHARACTERS IN HOMESTUCK. (Umbrella term 'gay' bc Dave is bi/whatever, and Rose is probably also bi, but we only see her in the context of RoseMary, which is why I started out with mentioning Alpha Dave/Alpha Rose. But like, they're poly imo anyway. I can't see them being exclusive in any timeline. The Alpha situation is just isolating by nature.) BACK TO MY POINT, THIS IS A WHOLE ASS GAY RELATIONSHIP AND IT GIVES ME SUCH GAY FEELINGS AND I LOVE THEM SO MUCH.

(On the subject, uh, all the Stri-Londes are trans in my book, too.)

Rewinding a bit, Rose doesn't need Dave like Dave needs Rose. That's part of what makes this so special, is that Rose is there for him because she wants to be. It's fulfilling in a way that she isn't 'needed' by anyone else. What she doesn't realize is how actively good having Dave around is for her. He gives her a reason to live and fight and die for. It was fated for them to be together like that in every timeline.

Even in one of the most absurd moments of Homestuck, we see them fated to be together with the whole Jasprosesprite and Davepetasprite incident. (Oh, don't even get me started on Davepeta, I have essays worth of thoughts about how they're the most OP character in all of Homestuck...)

Actually, let's end it there. Lol, I'm tired.

[meganwasbored]

The Dragon Prince Thoughts Season 3 Episodes 5 and 6

i could’ve sworn i posted these immediately but turns out these have just been sitting in my notes app since february so here comes the rest of season 3 and 4 for anyone who cares

Episode 5

-i’m still very confused why ezran is in jail what did he do can someone please explain

-WHY are the chains necessary??? what do they think he’s gonna do, squeeze through the bars???

-bait taking advantage of the absolute chaos that is happening in the castle to steal jelly tarts for ezran is just the best

-“see? this isn’t so bad!” the child says while sitting in the jail cell he may or may not be in for the rest of his life

-“still as a mouse” mice are the least still creatures ever what are you talking about

-the snakes REGENERATE???? that took like 10 seconds there was no way they could’ve gotten to safety in time anyway

-seriously who the heck is this dude and how does he benefit from all this

-i feel so stupid right now but how does a king stepping down land him in jail???? he’s 9????

-Opeli is the only competent one here viren was literally just arrested for treason you’re telling me not one other person is concerned about this???

-claudia looks so unfazed

-callum literally risking his life to not touch rayla just so things aren’t awkward but in doing so makes things much more awkward

-“it’s subtle but if you look closely you can see the ambler’s tracks” girl anyone with eyes can see those tracks they’re bigger than you

-YES SOREN IM SORRY I KEEP DOUBTING YOU

-this is the first show in a long time that genuinely makes me laugh out loud

-the guards continue to be the funniest characters in this entire show

-they’re trying to make viren look somewhat redeemable by caring so much about claudia as if he didn’t just tell soren to his face that he doesn’t care if he dies like idc what happens i will never forgive this man

-not to sound ungrateful but what the heck is the baker doing here

-honestly i support nyx in all that she does, you snooze you loose

-“no need to paint a picture”

”i would only need one color for that picture”

*walks away annoyed*

“brown”

-“ezran in his last act as king insisted that whoever didn’t wish to fight could lay down their arms” can’t you just… change that?

-RESPECT

-zym couldn’t have done that the first time she tried to kidnap him?

-did phoe phoe just… come out of the moon???

-when your girlfriend is so impressive that you risk death just to watch her fight

-“you are so….” YOURE TRYING TO KILL ME

-the fact that she literally kissed him yesterday and kissed him back right now yet he still feels the need to apologize for kissing her like trust me dude i think she likes you back

-after rewatching that three times i just realized they’re kissing literally right in front of nyx and i’ve never seen anybody acknowledge this

Episode 6

-is the ambler just immune to snake bites like how has it not been bitten by now

-is “amble” a word because my phone keeps autocorrecting “ambler” to “amble”

-cuties

-i love that no one is even surprised about viren’s “little bug pal”

-still don’t get how aaravos’s… soul(?) can go outside of the mirror like he’s practically not even imprisoned

-ANOTHER KING HARROW FLASHBACK LETS GOOOOO

-y’all will never understand how much i love that man i still can’t believe he’s gone

-dude why are you explaining to this man in detail how his wife died

-genuinely don’t know how much of what past viren is saying is true, how much of this does he actually believe and how much of it is he just saying to manipulate harrow into doing the spell

-“i will leave you with your grief” who SAYS THAT???

-i’m sorry i know some of you like him for some reason but prince kasef is just a loser with a crown he’s just so unpleasant to be around like he’d be on the cover of spoiled-entitled-judgmental-princes magazine

-“is you father talking to himself?”

“no, of course he’s not talking to himself, that’d be crazy! he’s talking to his little bug pal!”

-still kinda blown away that the dragons can talk, like they practically have human brains at this point what is even considered an animal in this world? like in theory elves could be considered animals (not that i consider them animals because i don’t) i’m just saying where do we draw the line?

-“are you okay? are you hurt? let me look at you” MY HEARTTTTT

-IF THIS BIRD DIES I BURN THIS HOUSE DOWN

-CRYING

-this is so frustrating because callum has every right to hate thunder(i’m just not gonna remember his real name i’m sorry it’s 2:33 am) and runaan for killing his parents but rayla has a personal connection to both of them (one was (is?) practically her dad and the other was her king) so like we’re in a tough spot here and i respect rayla so much for being so understanding

-oh my gosh how did it not occur to me that they’re literally right there, like they’re so close to the cave

[queenshelby]

My Friend’s Father (Part Three)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Smut

Words: 2,947

Notes:

I have decided to make this into a series.

Alright, no judgment. This was a dream of mine and I felt like I had to write it down. Everyone in this Fic is over the age of 18 and this Fic is in no way based on Cillian’s real family life. It’s pure filth.

 *************************

Cillian’s POV

Shortly after Denise got home from her rather miserable date with Jeremy, Cillian went to bed. It was only 9 o’clock but he thought that he would spend some time finishing reading the book he had started to read two nights ago.

The problem was that, even when he tried hard to focus on the content of the book, he couldn’t.

His mind was overrun with guilt about what had happened between you all so suddenly and unexpectedly and he still wasn’t so sure why he had given into you so easily. It was almost like he had lost all of his self-control in that moment.

This kind of behaviour was unusual for him. Usually, he would have been more sensible than this. After all, he was 45 and never had a one-night stand in his entire life.

Would you share this with anyone?

Probably not, he thought. He had known you for a while and you weren’t the type of woman who was actively seeking attention. You were always somewhat nerdy and a bit of loner. For years, he had known you to be sensible and he always liked that you were looking out for his daughter Denise. You were more mature than her and were always somewhat shy and reserved.

With this in mind, he was even more surprised by your actions. You seducing him the way you did seemed out of character for you which made him nervous.

Did you have feelings for him?

He certainly hoped that you didn’t. For him, this was nothing but sex and he would hate to give you the feeling that it was something more. He didn’t want to hurt you.

He should never have given into you. He knew that it was wrong and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why he acted so selfishly because, in his mind, this was exactly what it was. An act of selfishness.

You were young and clearly inexperienced which made this whole thing even worse. It was obvious to Cillian that you hadn’t been with many men before and he felt as though he took advantage of you even despite the fact that you were the one who made a move on him. He should have stopped you.

The fact that he is seeing someone else in Manchester didn’t help either and, whilst it wasn’t anything serious or exclusive, it felt wrong to him to be intimate with you which, in his own mind, brought him to another dilemma all together.

Why didn’t he use protection when he slept with you?

He knew that he could have simply walked into his son’s bedroom and find what he needed. But he didn’t. Instead, he was so consumed by lust that he forgot all about the need to be play it safe. Of course, he always reminded his adult children about the importance of protection and yet, he failed to adhere to his own rules.

Whilst he knew that you didn’t have many sexual partners and any risk associated with contracting STDs was somewhat low, he worried that you weren’t on birth control.

Why on earth didn’t he at least ask you about it? Was it too late to ask you now? Why did you make him pull out?

WHAT THE FUCK HAD HE DONE???

He panicked and he knew he had to talk to you in order to ease his mind.

YOUR POV

After you listened to Denise about her date gone wrong and what an asshole Jeremy actually was, you also made your way to bed. You felt terrible for her but knew that she would meet someone else who would make her happy and treat her well.

But her date with Jeremy wasn’t the only thing you felt terrible about. Even more so, you felt terrible about sleeping with her father which you knew was wrong and yet, you tried to justify it in your head.

Why did you act so selfishly and gave into your sexual needs?

This was something you had never done before. You were rather careful when it came to getting yourself involved with guys.

You had taken a liking in your friend’s father several years ago when you were 19. But then, it was just a silly crush you thought.

When you heard about his divorce however, you began to fantasise about him in your sleep and this was simply a fantasy you had finally acted upon.

This, however, didn’t change the fact that he was your friend’s father.

Would she mind if she knew?

Maybe she wouldn’t. She might just think that you are disgusting for sleeping with her dad but, in the end of the day, you are two consenting adults.

Why couldn’t you stop even when you realised that what you were doing was wrong?

When you made the first move it was almost like you were in a trance. You were overwhelmed. You wanted every bit of it but you never experienced sex quite like this. It was intense and he certainly knew what he was doing.

Whilst Cillian was much older than you, you were extremely attracted to him. Everything about him was perfect in your mind and he felt incredible when he was inside you.

You wanted so much more and thought that, perhaps, if it was just sex, it wasn’t wrong after all.

Together Again

Just as those thoughts raced through your mind, you heard a quite knock on the door.

Thinking that it was Denise, you didn’t bother to cover up as you were sitting on the guest bed in black cotton panties and a tight cotton singlet.

To your surprise, however, it wasn’t Denise who walked into the guestroom when you called out ‘come in’. It was Cillian.

His chin dropped as soon as he saw you. For some reason, he took a liking in your rather simple but yet revealing outfit, your messy hair and your black framed reading glasses.

‘Hey’ you simply said shyly as he was standing there speechless.

‘Hey’ he responded, swallowing harshly before telling you that he needed to talk to you.

‘Sure’ you said, putting the magazine down which you were reading along with your reading glasses. Then, you scooted over on the bed and indicated to him to sit down next to you.

His scent was intoxicating. He was freshly showered and his hair was still wet but you could still smell a hint of his aftershave on him.

‘So, what do you want to talk about?’ you asked without bothering to cover up your naked skin and you could see Cillian’s mind working overtime while the tension was building.

‘About what happened between us’ he then stammered while he observed your eyes wandering towards where they shouldn’t. But, you couldn’t help it and, when you noticed that he was reacting to your presence, you bit your lips seductively.

‘What happened between us was just sex. It’s not a big deal. People have sex all the time and you can trust me Cillian. It will remain our little secret’ you said in a seductive voice while moving your hand over Cillian’s upper thigh, through the hairs on his exposed skin and then all the way towards the rim of his boxers.

‘Y/N’ he barely managed to stammer, swallowing harshly.

‘Yes Cillian?’ you then smirked, noticing the effect you were having on him and moving your hand farther up his legs and beneath his boxers where you began to stroke his cock.

‘You are so hard’ you then whispered as you received no response from him other than a groan and, just as you did, Cillian took hold of you and pushed you beneath him in one swift movement.

Without words, Cillian’s warm lips met yours in a passionate kiss. The kiss was more urgent than before and you loved the way he asserted his dominance as his tongue circled around yours.

He felt such desire for you that he thought he would explode and, whilst he was normally quite vocal, every word he tried to say and every question he was going to ask you, were caught in his throat.

Wrapping your arms round him you ran your hands up and down his firm back as your mouths ground together. Sucking on each other's lips and plunging your tongues into each other’s mouth.

You couldn’t believe how wonderful it was to be kissed in such an experienced, almost sophisticated way and Cillian was marvelling at how someone so young could have learned to kiss so well.

Within split seconds and in between heated kisses, Cillian’s t-shirt and your singlet landed on the floor.

It wasn’t long until Cillian’s mouth left yours and began to wander over your firm breasts and then all the way down to your stomach which is where they came to a halt.

He interlocked his fingers with your panties and pulled them down, letting them join the other clothes on the floor before his head gracefully disappeared in between your legs.

‘It goes without saying, but you need to be quiet’ Cillian chuckled and you barely managed to nod before you covered your own mouth with the palm of your hand as Cillian dipped his tongue straight into your wetness.

‘Oh god yes’ you whimpered quietly as the rasping roughness of his tongue slid along your velvety wetness and sent enormous tremors through you.

You had little experience of either, receiving or, giving oral sex. In your world of mainly inexperienced boys, it was hardly on the agenda as they were generally too keen to get their rocks off to worry overly about your pleasure. In any case in the usually rushed episodes in the back of cars or downstairs with parents in bed there was hardly the time let alone the opportunity for languid pussy licking or sensual cock sucking. In the world of the forty-five year-old man lying between your opened legs, however, it very much was on the agenda and he seemed to enjoy it just as much as you did.

You moaned loudly as you were holding Cillian’s head in both hands as he licked the length of your pussy. He did it slowly with just the right amount of pressure making sure that the tip of his tongue fully anointed both lips and licked just inside them on that especially sensitive area.

When you moaned a little too loudly again, he reminded you to be quiet just before he sucked and kissed you again, covering every inch of the outside of your pussy before pushing the straightened tip of his tongue inside and probing upwards licking the insides as he started to tongue fuck you.

‘This feels so fucking good’ you stammered, legs shaking and quivering while Cillian held you tightly and it wasn’t long until you reached an orgasm which sent convulsions through your body.

You moaned a little too loud again as your whole body tingled and felt tender to the touch and tears of pleasure and relief, with a tinge of guilt, poured down your cheeks.

‘That was amazing’ you eventually huffed out as you slowly came down from your high and Cillian kissed his way back up your body until his lips reached yours.

‘You taste so fucking good’ he then whispered into your ear after your lips drifted apart and, just as he did, you reached in between his legs and began stroking his cock which was still rock hard.

‘I want to feel you inside me again…please…just once more’ you begged and the sound of you begging alone made Cillian groan.

‘Fuck Y/N…I want you so much’ he whispered as he pulled down his boxers and his wiggling body urged your legs to open so that his cock lay between your thighs with the bulbous end of it pressed against your lips.

‘Then take me’ you groaned marvelling at the fact your friend's dad was about to fuck you.

With the tip of his cock just slightly parting the lips of your pussy and his arms round your body with his hands gripping your taught bum he muttered something you couldn’t understand. It was obvious to you that his mind was hardly able to accept what was happening. Nonetheless, he wanted it so badly and, with a shrug of his hips, he sank his cock deep into your gorgeously tight and wonderfully welcoming pussy.

‘Oh god yes, Cillian’ you groaned as your fingernails were digging into his back.

He pushed himself in as far as it would go, eliciting more groans from you which he had to quickly silence with his lips.

You felt light-headed and deliriously happy. You also felt very filled. Cillian was bigger than the other guys you had been with and you loved the feeling of being stretched. The folds of skin that guard your clit seemed to be open and that so sensitive place felt to be exposed, so as Cillian started moving slowly up and down it was as though his cock was rubbing on it. You had never felt anything like it before. Just as you had never felt like cumming when a man's cock had only been inside you for a few moments.

Somehow, however, you managed to delay your release just a little bit longer, enjoying as Cillian thrusted into you hard and deep until, eventually, the inevitable happened.

‘Let go, there is no need to hold back’ Cillian reassured you and, just as he did, you allowed your orgasm to wash over you.

‘Oh god Cillian, fuck’ you shouted out and he quickly covered your mouth with his hand as he continued to thrust into and watched you lose control.

Your legs were shaking once again as you gave in and, when you finally came down, Cillian pulled out of you.

Thinking that he was done and that he wanted you to proceed as before, you scooted up but, to your surprise, Cillian pulled you on top of him instead.

‘Your turn to take what you need Y/N’ Cillian whispered and you couldn’t help but shiver at his words. He wanted you on top and that was yet another first for you.

‘You can cum again’ he then said but you couldn’t help but shake your head.

‘I don’t think I can, but I am willing to try’ you smirked. He had already given you four orgasms that day which were four more orgasms than anyone else before him had given you.

‘I bet you can’ he then winked and you nodded shyly before taking his hard cock into your hand and lining it up with your entrance.

‘I will be sore tomorrow I think’ you whispered as, with a moan, you sank down on his hard cock.

‘Yes, you will be’ Cillian chuckled as, all of a sudden, he thrusted upwards and deep into your mound, causing you to cry out in pleasure.

Once again, he covered your mouth with his hand as you began to ride him.

‘You feel so fucking good, you know that?’ Cillian groaned as you began to move up and down on his hard shaft. He certainly had become vocal now and you loved it.

‘So tight around my cock’ he then groaned as he met your thrusts and he could hear you starting to whimper.

‘Oh god…yes, fuck my pussy’ you moaned quietly, holding his hand and keeping it near your mouth while sucking on his fingers.

‘Cum inside me Cillian. I want to feel it. Fill me with your cum’ you then demanded as you began to ride his cock harder and faster and, by this point, Cillian had lost all self-control.

The dirty talk, the tightness of your pussy and the way your lips played with his fingers was too much for him.

‘Cum with me Cillian’ you then moaned as you let go and so did he.

‘Oh god Cillian, yes…fuck’ you groaned as such amazing feelings flooded your body and you felt him push into you as far as he could go.

‘Fuck Y/N’ grunted as you both climaxed simultaneously and you soared to a height of pleasure you had never previously experienced when Cillian’s cock exploded sending streams of his cum into you.

‘Oh god that was amazing’ you eventually huffed out when you both stopped moving.

‘Jesus Y/N’ Cillian grunted almost at the same time before his eyes shot open and he saw your satisfied smile.

Carefully, you climbed off him, releasing his cock from your tight pussy before you sat down on the bed next to him.

You spread your legs and, with curious eyes, you looked down on yourself and watched some of Cillian’s cum leak from your core.

‘That feels so fucking good…so warm and wet’ you observed as you collected some of his cum with your finger and brought it to your mouth while Cillian cocked an eyebrow, wondering what you were doing.

‘Uhm…?’ Cillian chuckled, watching you almost speechlessly but yet somewhat turned on.

‘I never had a guy cum inside me but this is so fucking sexy’ you observed with a laugh before reshuffling yourself and collapsing into his arms.

‘Yeah, about that…’ Cillian went on to say…

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@peaky-cillian​

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[szallejhscorner]

Hello Szallejh-chan. Can I request where the reader is living with Chishiya. The reader is like 4th year college student and Chishiya is already an intern and he was being paid (canonical Chishiya is rich coz his father is a doctor with high position). While the reader is struggling financially because she doesn't have a family anymore. She needed to support herself. She's struggling to balance part time jobs and being a full time student that it takes toll on her physical and mental health. She wouldn't ask Chishiya for money or would borrow money from him coz she's too shy and wanna keep her dignity. Like she's getting skinny and mentally drained and would often breakdown when Chishiya is not around because she's exhausted trying to survive and making ends meet. Then, by accident Chishiya heard her crying and found out that the reader is struggling financially and he helped her. I don't how would you do the helping part but I trust your judgment. Sorry if the explanation is too long I just wanted to be specific. Thank you! I hope you are healthy both physically and mentally ♥️ (this request is actually based on my current situation right now struggling between working and studying).

Hi Nonny (:

Wow, this is a long one. I'm sorry that you have to face such struggles right now, and I hope things will turn to the better for you soon! Thank you for the ask ~

If one of you is going through something similar, let me tell you that it’s not wrong to ask for help. We all have to endure situations that we can’t go through alone, and there will always be a way to get support. Don’t let things like this destroy you, because strength doesn’t mean to suffer alone. Strength means to reach out your hand before you fall to the ground.

Stay safe, all of you!

Would a trigger warning for a panic attack be appropriate here?

Falling Apart

You’re not sure you can do this much longer. It’s too much, all of it. This should have been a dream come true, living together with the most handsome man in entire Tokyo and studying what you’ve wanted to study since you were a little child.

In the end, it turns out to be a nightmare.

You feel drained. University is taking most of your time during the week, with all the papers and essays and courses you have to attend, and then there’s the part time jobs. Work at the grocery store every saturday and sometimes on other evenings as well, work as a waitress in the restaurant down the street on sundays.

The last day off you remember has been half a year ago, and still, you can’t even afford a simple breakfast. Financial support is rare when none of your family is left in the country, and the restaurant had issues with paying out your salary this month. There had been troubles already last month, and the month before.

With not a single penny left on your bank account, you don’t even have enough to buy a simple bottle of water. Payment from the store is just enough to pay the monthly rent, at least your half of it. Chishiya pays the other, and he doesn‘t struggle at all. How should he when he’s already working as a surgeon, in a famous clinic with a famous name? Some would even call him rich, although he couldn’t care less about that.

And yet here you are, starving while sitting in front of a brimful fridge.

The food has all been bought by Chishiya, with the money he earned. You don’t deserve any of it, and you refuse to take it. As a grown-up woman, you should be able to afford your own stuff, right? You shouldn’t rely on your boyfriend for such simple needs.

Chishiya wouldn’t even mind to pay it for you. He would instantly pay all of the rent if you told him about your struggles, but you’d rather sink into the ground than do that. He knows that it’s not easy for you, yes, although you’re doing a good job making him believe that it still works out so far. Despite the regular breakdowns you’re suffering from.

Looking at the tremble in your hands, you don’t think you can keep it up much longer. You’ve been so tired for an eternity now, and not only because there is not really an opportunity for you to sleep much. It’s the mental exhaustion that’s the worst, the fears and worries and doubts shouting and screaming inside your mind, causing you headache after headache.

Today you’ve been lucky that the restaurant’s chef offered all of you some snacks as an apology for the lack of payment, but a couple of fries and burritos can’t make up for the weeks and months of stress you’re going through. And it won’t help your current state to get much better at all.

You don’t need to take a look into the mirror to know what you’d glance at - a creature made of nothing but skin and bones, dark bags under the eyes and protruding cheekbones. The glow in your eyes has long vanished, being replaced by a constant worry how you’re supposed to make it through each day.

You’re tired, and you’re hungry. But most of the time, you just want to sleep. Hours. Days. Weeks. An entire month.

The worst is that you know this will never be possible. Instead of allowing yourself to dream, the nightmare continues to get darker. Afraid to go to bed because the next day will only be worse than the last, and because it will only bring new problems instead of solutions.

With a defeated sigh, you drop down onto the chair. Chishiya’s chair. All of the furniture inside this house belongs to Chishiya. The table, the kitchen, the carpet you walk on. Nothing is yours. You’re like a vermin, infesting this house. Unasked. Unwanted.

Useless.

The tremble of your hands increases, and so does your heartbeat. It begins to race painfully against your ribs, while at the same time, invisible claws tighten around your lungs, making it impossible for you to breathe.

All warmth has vanished from your body, replaced by ice cold needles that spike your skin together with the freezing sweat running down your spine. Like a sharp blade cutting deep into what’s left of you, draining you even more.

The worst is that you can’t breathe. Trying to do so hurts too much, and you hear your own voice gasp and plead for it to end. It’s a frightening sound, like a scared and hurt animal. Weak, desperate, brittle and fragile. Terrifying.

Trying to move, you realize that your legs don’t obey any longer. They have been replaced by a huge mass of concrete, unable to carry you away from this place. You’re frozen in space, helpless and alone.

You need to sleep. You need to breathe. You need to sleep! You need to breathe!!

All of a sudden, hands appear out of nowhere and clench around your wrists, pinning them onto the table while a body against your back doesn’t allow you to move. Its warmth is too much, and the claustrophobia makes you gasp even more. It’s only making it worse. And you can’t manage to scream proper words to make that clear.

“Focus on breathing.”

That voice. Chishiya. Last time you had checked the clock, it had been hours left until the end of his shift, and it feels like only minutes have passed since then. How long have you been sitting on that chair? How could hours have passed just like the blink of an eye?

No matter what, this is too much. The warmth of his skin against your cold body. The force with which he keeps you still. No. No. NO! “I-... you have... let me... please... Please, I-”

Your voice is nothing but a scratch, unable to build a proper sentence. And Chishiya doesn’t listen; instead, his touch only intensifies.

“Focus. On. Breathing.”

You do. You’re not exactly given another chance anyway, so you listen to the sounds of Chishiya’s mouth close to your ear and try to mimic them. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.

Surprisingly, it helps. Despite the pain and pressure around your chest, your lungs still fill your air. You’re not suffocating, no matter how much it feels like you do. You’re not dying. And together with your breathing, your heartbeat returns to normal as well. The rush in your ears ebbs away and some of the warmth returns to your limbs. While your fingers are still trembling, it’s not that bad any longer, and it takes you a while to realize that Chishiya isn’t holding your wrists any more, finally giving you the freedom you longed for.

You focus on breathing for a while longer. In an out. In and out. In and out.

Then, as unexpectedly as Chishiya’s hands, a mug of hot chocolate is placed in front of you. The warmth of the cup immediately spreads to your hands when you wrap them around it, and the sweet scent is soothing while you wipe your cheeks dry of tears that you didn’t even notice falling.

Chishiya sits down on a chair next to you, with enough distance that he doesn’t touch you. While he has never seen you like this before, he seems to know exactly what’s good for you. Not that you ever wanted him to see you that weak... He was never supposed to witness that side of yours. And you have to pull yourself together to stop your hands from trembling harder again. It can’t be helped now; it’s too late to hide. 

“You need to quit one job.”

His voice is calm and determined, and it sounds so easy when he says that! Of course you know that it would be better. You would want to quit both of them actually, to focus on studying and good grades, but you can’t. It’s nothing but an unreachable dream reminding you of the helpless situation you’re in. “I... can’t.”

Your voice still sounds desperate and forein. Too weak. You don’t want to sound weak.

Chishiya exhales a breath and watches how you sip your chocolate. At least the drink helps to ease your sore throat, but the look in his eyes is unquestionable. “I don’t care which one. Two are too much. I can’t allow you to continue like this.”

Those words sound so weightless, spoken by his lips. A man who has never faced financial struggles, who has a rich dad, a well-paid job. Everything. He doesn’t know what it’s like to dread every day because the money will never suffice for the entire month. It is so easy for him to offer help, when he‘s not the one living in shame. No, you are the person not able to provide themselves with food and all. The vermin that has to beg for everything.

In the following silence, you realize that you have spoken those thoughts out loud. Not that the current situation could get much worse.

“Is that really what you think?”

He could never understand. It’s not his dignity about to be thrown away. Just yours.

You don’t answer, but the look in your eyes must have said enough. Chishiya places his hands on the table, so close that his warm skin is brushing against your cold fingers. “One year.”

“Huh?” Unable to follow his train of thought, you simply stare at him, causing him to chuckle.

“Let me pay the rent for one year. Focus on university until then. You can keep one job or quit both, but two is not an option. One year. When things look better then, you can pay it back bit by bit. You won’t owe me money then, and you won’t be in my debt.”

It’s an easy offer. You know he will be able to pay it without any effort, and while you don’t feel comfortable with it, you will pay him back. Not because he needs the money, but because you need it for your dignity. Maybe, if you want to avoid such breakdowns in the future... well, it could be worse, couldn’t it?

You lean against his shoulder, and never before have you wanted to sleep so much. Never before, even though you’ve had such breakdowns already, you have felt so tired. “I love you, Chishiya, but...”

“Then prove it.”

Too tired to ask, you reach out for the mug of chocolate to take another sip, knowing that Chishiya will explain it to you anyway.

“Prove it and stop destroying yourself like this.”

You sigh. His offer makes sense, and you would be foolish to decline. Most of all, he does it because he cares for you. Because he thinks you’re worth more than going through such struggles.

“Okay. One year. Not a single day longer.”

[pathetic-dumpling]

Coming to Terms

Dream has been having a bad day, which has quickly turned into a bad week. Techno and Phil both need to go out and do essential tasks around the tundra, but they can't leave Dream alone either. So... they find a babysitter. words: 5,188 - read on ao3 instead

CW: overstimulation, implied panic attack, unintentional self-harm, referenced abuse

Dream has been having a bad day. Correction, he’s been having a bad week. He’s been caught in a bit of a spiral for the last several days, and the exhaustion from an attempt at healing keeps dragging him down before he can get out. The last thing Techno wants to do is leave Dream alone like this, but he and Phil have already pushed off as many necessary tasks as they can. They need to head out, but they can’t leave Dream alone… So in comes the Syndicate.

They consider a few people. Niki is chosen.

“Look, all you need to do is watch him for a day. We’ll be back by the end of it, and you can leave, alright?”

Niki scrunches her face up, which is, in all honesty, reasonable. She’s one of the people who didn’t want to interact with Dream, but Techno and Phil are running desperately low on options.

“Is there anyone else?” She asks. “What about Puffy? She’s a therapist, right? Wouldn’t she be more equipped for something like this?”

“A, we don’t want more people knowing about Dream than necessary, and she’s already refused to give Dream treatment. B, we don’t trust her to not psychoanalyze Dream when he really doesn’t want to be psychoanalyzed. Plus, we don’t know what kind of domestic issues there are because Dream hasn’t opened up about that part of his life yet.”

Niki winced. “What about Ranboo?”

“Well, you see, Ranboo’s been growing into himself recently,” Phil interjects, beside Techno. “Which is good, by all means, but that also means he’s been embracing that he’s a little bit of a dick sometimes. You’re literally the only person we can think of who can be… pleasant and hold your tongue around Dream.”

“And- and we don’t wanna sound misogynistic,” Techno quickly adds. “This isn’t a ‘the kind woman puts up with the toxic man’ situation; it’s just… Dream is fragile right now, like, really fragile, and we’re pretty sure you’re the only person who has the kind of self-restraint to not break him any more, you know?”

Niki raises a brow but ultimately sighs. “This is your only option?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Phil laughs.

“...alright. I’ll watch him. One day, got it?”

“Oh my gods, thank you so much, Niki.”

So Niki is given keys to the house. Mentally, she prepares for whatever Dream might try. She saw him, briefly, in a Syndicate meeting or two, but only between several layers of fabric and zero spoken words. She doesn’t know what he’s like if he’s grown out of his… nastier habits yet. Techno has done everything in his power to tell the Syndicate that Dream has changed, but none of them have actually seen any change. Niki kind of doubts it, if she’s being honest, but she trusts Techno’s judgment more than anything. She knows Techno wouldn’t lie to her and lead her on like others in the past.

She wakes up the following day when things are still dark. Niki can see her breath, even within the small haven of an underground city warmed by countless fires and lanterns. She throws on her Syndicate cloak, getting ready to head out to the arctic. Hopefully, Techno didn’t want her to do anything with the animals because she definitely wouldn’t be able to stand being outside for that long. When she arrives, Techno thanks her profusely. He pledges to show her around the house and offers a few tips while Phil gets ready for their trip outside.

“Alright.” Techno swings his hands by his sides. Niki has noticed he’s stopped clapping them when he begins to speak. “First things first, Dream hasn’t eaten in, like, three days, so we really need you to try to get him to eat something. His diet has been pretty limited so far, but we left a list of things he’s been able to eat so far on the counter. Try to stay fresh- anything stale makes him throw up, and so does steak. Don’t offer it. We keep apples in a little icebox downstairs because he likes fruit cold. Also, Dream likes himself cold, too. He gets anxious when he’s hot.

“If Dream hides in his room, he’s most likely hiding under his bed. If you need to interact with him during that time, do not try to pull him out. That will scare him and he might bite. Instead, just kind of lay on the floor and face him and just… wait until he’s ready to talk. If you try to push him, he’ll probably just curl up more, and he tends to get really distant for the next day or two when that happens.

“If he asks for something, it means that he needed it about three hours ago and has only now gotten the courage to ask for it. Even if he prefaces it between a lot of ‘only if you want to’ and ‘you don’t have to,’ don’t believe him. We’re trying to teach him that asking for things is good but it’s been a bumpy ride. Also, he’s iffy on touch; I’d say it’s better to not try.”

Techno stops, tapping his lip. “Try not to let him outside without supervision; we haven’t really been able to block off potential hazards yet. Other than that, I think that’s everything. Dream is sleeping right now, but he knows you’ll be here. He might get startled anyway. Try not to stare or anything. It makes him uncomfortable. Just treat him like a nervous cat or something.”

Niki blinks, trying desperately to process all of the information that was just dumped on her. Techno waits patiently as she mentally backtracks and tries to commit everything to vague memory. Nervous cat? That’s what the ruler of the server has turned into?

“Okay… I think I got all of that?” Niki says, hoping she got everything she truly needed down. She knows how awkward things get when she or Techno has to start repeating themselves.

“Cool.” Techno sighs, running a hand through his hair until it gets caught in his braid. “A nervous, injury-prone cat… That’s Dream. Thank you for doing this, really. Dream just started being okay with being in the same room as boiling water, and I think I might have a breakdown if I have to leave to make tea again. This means a lot. Anything you need from us, me or Phil, we’ll be happy to help as soon as we get back.”

Niki nods. “Honestly, I didn’t think this would be on the agenda when I joined the Syndicate, but I’m happy to help you, Techno.”

“Of course.” Techno bows his head. “Of course. We’ll be back as soon as we can. Again, don’t let him… do anything to himself, okay?”

Niki gives another nod and a thumbs up. “You can count on me, Techno.”

Techno gives a strained smile and then, awkwardly, does a slight bow before leaving. His muffled voice filters through the door as he calls out to Phil, and then they head out. Niki takes in a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before sighing as she watches the silhouettes of her friends disappear over the horizon.

Alright. She can do this. She may not like Dream, but she did agree as a part of the Syndicate to… help. This is just for Techno and Phil, to keep them from worrying. To watch Dream and make sure he doesn’t try anything he shouldn’t. Niki could do that. In fact, she was happy to keep the man out of trouble, if it were for Techno’s sake. Now she just needed to find something to do until there was someone to watch.

Niki glances around the house, finding things pleasantly clean. The chests were a bit of a mess, but things weren’t lying all over the place, and it looks like it’s been cleaned recently. It looks like the house has been somewhat baby-proofed, too, which makes a little chuckle bubble in Niki’s throat. They’ve only been housing Dream, and he’s certainly a grown man, isn’t he? What would they need to keep him out of drawers for?

Niki gets to entertaining herself with one of Techno’s many book recommendations, making a tiny home for herself on the couch. She opens the blinds and curtains, letting any sort of light filter in as much as it can. The sun is slow to rise in the arctic, and candlelight can only do so much. Slowly, as the sun rises over the north, Niki finds herself growing more hungry, so she starts making some food. It gets bright soon after that, lighting up the room with the near-blinding rays of the sun. Niki adjusts soon enough, simply happy to have more than enough reading light.

A few hours later, after Niki has already eaten and taken care of her share of the dishes, Dream emerges. The first thing she notices is that he’s completely maskless. Secondly, he looks exhausted to the bone, drowned in a dark green jacket and a black shirt underneath. Loose-fitting pants cover Dream’s legs, almost completely hiding his figure from view. Dream’s eyes are dark, his posture slouched inward, and his hair is messy, long, and frail. He looks unbearably tense. His eyes squint at how bright it is, but he tries to shake it off quickly with a flick of his hands. He does a quick double-take on Niki, eyes darting around the room before relaxing slightly. His attention never leaves her, though. His gaze makes a shiver crawl up Niki’s spine.

“Good morning, Dream!” She says politely because maybe Dream is worse in the mornings.

Dream waves tiredly, and Niki notices his bandaged finger. Something about it looks off until she realizes it’s too short to be normal, missing nearly the entire first section. She wonders how it happened, how she’s never noticed before. Dream takes his bandaged hand, dragging it down his face. He lets out a long sigh, sitting down at the circular table in the kitchen, leaning heavily on it for support. He raises his hands, and although they tremble and shake, Niki recognizes one thing. Dream is signing.

Oh. It looks like Technoblade forgot to mention one thing.

“Oh!” She says quickly, tucking her book into her chest. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know sign language.”

Dream, from the table, raises a brow at her. He raises his hands, signing what Niki can only assume is: you don’t know sign?

“I always meant to learn, but the only people who use it actively on the server are Callahan and….”

Me. Niki can guess that one well enough.

“Yes… you. I’m sorry.”

Dream waves his hand dismissively. He gestures for a pen, which Niki retrieves without much hesitance. She may not like Dream, but she still needs to communicate with him if this day even has a chance at going well. She places the pen and small pad of paper on the table, stepping back quickly. Dream lets out a long breath before beginning to write.

I’ll show you some stuff I probably won’t be able to translate in the moment, Dream writes. Writing looks a little more challenging with the ever-present tremor in Dream’s hands and his shortened finger, but he makes do. He writes down a few simple words: can’t, stop, no, sorry, and shows the signs for each of them. Niki furrows her brow.

“These are all negative responses. What about… ‘yes’?”

Dream struggles to meet Niki’s eyes for a second, looking away almost immediately. He seems borderline uncomfortable. Slowly, he curls his hand into a fist, nodding it forward twice.

“Yes?” Niki asks in conformation.

Yes.

Niki nods, trying to commit this information, like everything else dumped on her today, to memory. Dream drops the pen after that, cradling his hands in his lap. They certainly… don’t stop shaking. Hm. Niki would ask about it, but she doesn’t really want to poke at any boundaries. Dream fiddles with his fingers, beginning to bounce his leg.

“Em-” Niki starts, catching Dream’s attention and picking at the back of her neck awkwardly. “Techno told me that you should probably eat today, right? I made food a few hours ago, but I can make something for you or….”

Dream waves his hands, furiously shaking his head. He scribbles down variants of I’m not hungry, and you don’t have to, which Niki isn’t given a chance to object to. Dream carefully gets up, grabbing the notepad beside him and pushing past Niki. He makes his way over to the couch, plopping himself down and sighing. Niki watches him, unsure of what entirely to do. She knows what Techno told her, but there was only so much that was truly in her power. It didn’t help how dismissive Dream appeared to be with her attempts at offering him food.

This Dream is… new, to say the least. She didn’t know the old Dream outside of what she heard from her peers, but she especially doesn’t know this Dream. Is he better? Does he know that what he’s done is bad? Terrible? Unforgivable, even? Does he regret it at all, or does he just think he’s a victim in all of this?

It takes two more attempts at getting Dream to eat before Niki’s patience starts running a little slim. She’s never had the time to talk to Dream before, but right now, he just seems nothing more than tired. He looks fine, if not a little skinny, maybe a little quiet. For all Niki knows, this could be a ploy, a trick, to live the high life off of Techno’s dedicated care and then run off into the woods. Niki feels a little nasty for thinking this, but what if Dream is just faking this all? What if he’s just playing it up for show and sympathy? To get free protection while his next plan brews quietly in the background? She’s heard about the lengths Dream was willing to go to in the past; what would make this different? She knows how convincing an actor Dream can be, and dedication to a part can take someone a long way.

Well… Now is as good of a time as ever to get a few things off her chest, Niki supposes. If Dream isn’t faking, he’ll have some kind of genuine reaction, and if he is, then, well… Niki can keep her friends from getting used again. It’s a win-win, really.

“You know, you’re very lucky Techno decided to care for you so much,” she says from the kitchen because the distance makes her feel safer. “He didn’t have to do all of this, you know? It’d certainly be easier for him to have ignored your favor. I would’ve.”

From behind, Niki hears a sharp intake of breath, but no objections come. Niki looks behind her at Dream, still sitting on the couch, wide-eyed and staring at her. He swallows, eyes darting to the side like he’s sorting through his thoughts. He gestures at Niki, a sort of go-on movement, so she turns around and continues. “Things like Wilbur, Doomsday, the festival, you played a role in all of those, you know? You’ve been the authority figure of the server for so long. You-- you had control over exile and Tommy and… Everything you’ve done, it’s hurt all of us. It’s- it’s hurt me, and I-”

There’s a loud, distinct sniffle behind Niki. Slowly, she turns to look behind her, finding Dream curled up on the couch. He brings his knees up to his chest, pressing tightly into himself. He’s looking to the side, almost shameful. His shoulders are shaking.

“...Dream?” Niki asks. Maybe this is the genuine reaction she’s looking for.

Dream nods sharply. He looks up, meeting Niki’s eyes, his own glassy and red and wet. His eyes fill with tears, so he quickly hides his face again, pressing it into the arm wrapped around his knee. It feels like he’s forcing himself to keep his gaze on Niki, and that information tastes a little bitter going down Niki’s throat. He lifts his head just enough to meet Niki’s eyes again, folding his hand into a half square and pressing it to his temple. Niki doesn’t know the sign, but she doesn’t need to.

I know, he says. I know.

Dream takes a shuddering breath, fingers dancing across the parts of the body he’s gripping. They speed up and slow down as he filters his thoughts, eventually coming to a standstill. He grabs his notepad with trembling hands, scribbling down something hastily, ripping out the paper, and holding it out for Niki while hiding himself. Nervously, Niki steps forward because the memory of powerful and quick and ruthless Dream has never left her, even when presented with the sight of the trembling man before her.

I know, the paper says. I want to listen. But not today. I can’t today.

Niki swallows. She looks at Dream, trembling and crumbling in on himself, and nods. “Okay,” she says. “I understand. I… I’m sorry. That was out of line, I...”

Dream nods quickly and sharply. His fingers tap quickly against his leg. Niki feels awkward, standing in front of Dream like this as he fidgets and shuffles. She puts a little distance between the two of them, retreating back to the kitchen. The house is plunged into a small period of unrelenting silence. Niki wished that she knew at least a little sign because maybe things wouldn’t be so awkward. Dream doesn’t look all too thrilled to be talking with her either way, though, so perhaps it was wishful thinking. He’s running a hand through his hair, pausing to tug on the long strands every few seconds.

Niki frowns. Has Techno told her anything about how to handle something like this? Sorting through her memory quickly tells Niki that, no, Techno hadn’t spilled anything helpful for a time like this. He’d asked Niki to make sure Dream didn’t do anything to himself, but certainly, he wasn’t that much of a danger to his own wellbeing, right? Techno had mentioned some other useful things, but he seems to have forgotten some details Niki would’ve loved to have. She sighs.

Niki supposes that the best she can do right now is swallow her words and try to be helpfully polite. To, in kinder words, simply watch Dream. She tried to ask him about some things here or there but mostly ended up talking at Dream instead of with him. That’s okay, Niki didn’t mind. She didn’t really go into today expecting some sort of riveting conversation, and the one she’d already tried to have ended oh-so-splendidly.

Suddenly, the sound of Dream’s stomach growling caught her attention. Niki looked back from her chunk of dough that she’d started kneading to fill the silence at Dream, who was caught like a deer in headlights. He looked to her quickly before starting off on what Niki thinks is a garbled bundle of excuses about how he wasn’t hungry again. Niki laughs kindly, making Dream’s hands pause mid-air.

“I’ll go get you an apple or something,” she says, running her hands under the sink to wash off the extra flour. “Techno showed me where everything was before you woke up. I’ll be back in just a second. Stay put, okay?”

Dream nods, hiding his face and giving a small thumbs up. The trip downstairs is quick, only interrupted by a skulk of three foxes Techno apparently kept in his basement. The box with cooled fruit was propped up, probably to keep the foxes out of it, Niki mused, if the scratch marks on the side were anything to go off of. Dream was sitting in virtually the exact same position Niki had left him in, nervously glancing at her when she approached. At least he’s good at following directions, Niki noted. She held out the apple, waited a long few seconds for Dream to take it, then set it on the table next to him. Dream’s eyes watched her with rapt attention, almost like he was afraid she was suddenly going to turn around and attack him.

After that little experience, Niki went back to kneading dough as pleasantly as she could. She couldn’t explain the small smile that crept onto her lips when the inevitable crunch of an apple being eaten hit her ears after minutes of silence. Niki chalks it up to the fact that Techno would be happy that Dream ate and tries to move on from it as passively as she can.

Shuffling fills the corners of the house between the clanging of various pans and Niki’s humming. Dream had come a little closer, sitting stiffly at the counter and watching Niki work after throwing his apple core into Carl’s stable from the window. He keeps the notepad close to him, bouncing the pen back and forth against the solid surface. Niki greets him and starts explaining what she’s doing, to which Dream nods along. She tries to suggest Dream join the baking whenever she can, moving pans around and into the sink when they’ve become dirty. Dream’s eyes follow her hands as she gestures around, eyebrows twitching downward every few seconds. Every semi-loud sound makes his eyes blink in surprise and something else Niki can’t quite place. It goes on like this for about half an hour, with various levels of participation coming from Dream.

Eventually, he begins to look more and more lost in thought, distracted, even borderline frustrated, eventually dropping his pen roughly and tapping his pointer finger against the counter. His other hand goes to his hair, pulling, as a small whimper tumbled into the air. Dream’s nail makes a quick tap, tap, tap that sounds borderline panicky, only increasing in speed. His shoulders are tense, and because Niki is so used to providing comfort to those unscarred by touch, she reached out for his shoulder.

Dream jerks away as soon as her hand meets his shoulder, a small, distressed noise leaving his throat. He stumbles onto shaky legs, looking almost as if Niki burned him. Niki, in return, pulled her hand back to her chest. Dream holds up a finger, a small give me a moment, before distancing himself. He hangs his head and holds up his hands, shaking them out almost violently as he paces the living room.

“Dream?” Niki begins to ask, watching the man pace and shake his hands. What was he doing? What was going on?

Her thoughts are abruptly cut off by a sharp yelp when Dream suddenly turns and pushes over a chair. This is still Dream at the end of the day, and once upon a time, he was terrifying and dangerous. Niki clamps her hands down over her mouth to keep any further sound from escaping when it makes Dream flinch. His breath picks up in shakiness and speed until a loud crash makes the house go silent.

Dream’s head whips around, finding a pile of shattered glass on the floor next to the chair he flipped over and the table it apparently took on its way down. He stares at it for a good, long second, the breath stolen from his lungs. A quick, strangled sob leaves Dream’s mouth as he drops to his knees, scrambling for the glass pieces. Hot, fat tears fill the corners of Dream’s eyes. His hands are shaking so much it makes the glass pieces he picks up clink against each other. Almost desperately, Dream tries to wipe away the tears, and Techno’s worry about Dream hurting himself suddenly becomes much more apparent as the world catches up to Niki.

“Oh- Dream, no, we- let’s not-” Niki drops to her knees beside Dream, holding her hands out gently. “Let’s not do that, okay? You’ve got glass in your hands.”

Dream doesn’t stop. The tears and sobs only spilling harder and faster. Niki doesn’t think this can get any worse, so she slowly puts her hand over Dream’s, grasping it and pulling it away gently. There’s no resistance, even as Dream digs his chin into his chest. Pricks of blood are already forming on scratches left on Dream’s cheeks from the glass, quickly mixing with tears. Dream starts signing something frantically, and Niki doesn’t know what he’s saying, but, oh, she wishes she did.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Niki tries. “Are you worried Techno will be angry?”

Dream nods, choking on another sob.

“I’m sure he won’t be!” Niki presents her hands, cupped, to Dream again. “He really cares about you, alright? He won’t be mad over a broken cup, okay?”

Dream makes a strangled sound that almost sounds like a “but” as he snaps his head up to face Niki.

“No. No buts.” Niki pushes her hands forward pointedly. “I’ll clean up the glass, okay? I think you should go lay down on your bed and rest. Calm down a little, alright? I’m supposed to be here to help, and Techno would be upset if you hurt yourself. I’ll let you know when everything’s been taken care of.”

Shakily, Dream brings his free hand up to his face, fingers touching the newly formed cuts as his lips trace Niki’s words. His eyes go wide, pressing down on the tiny bubbles of blood forming. He drops the glass into Niki’s hands, staggering up with a sharp breath. He mutters something too faint for Niki to catch before disappearing into his room. Niki picks up the rest of the glass, her hands thankfully much steadier than Dream’s own despite what just happened. Periodically, she glances up to Dream’s room, watching, waiting.

She isn’t quite sure what she’s waiting for, maybe for him to come bursting out, angry at being coddled, or perhaps for him to come slinking back with shaky hands and hot tears and try to help again. Whatever it is, it never comes.

Carefully, Niki spends a few minutes making sure no shards had spread out over the house or that she misses any finite pieces. After her searches come back clean, Niki moves to the knocked-over furniture. She rights the table and chair Dream had knocked over, huffing out a small sigh of relief. The living room was clean again, thankfully. She hopes Techno won’t be mad. That would just make her look bad when Dream was so clearly distressed over the whole ordeal.

At the thought of Dream, Niki makes her way over to his room. She knocks, the wood giving way and opening up into the small room. Dream lays on his bed, curled up into a ball, and appears to be fast asleep. The blankets look almost deliberately untouched around him. Niki steps into the dark room, noting the closed blinds on his window. Everything is kept down to nearly a depressing minimum, the only trace of life in the room being the messy, yet unmoved, sheets and a single flowerpot laying on a chest.

It would be better to let him sleep, Niki thinks. The room is kept cold, and Niki doesn’t want Dream to get sick, so she decides to drape the untouched sheets over Dream’s sleeping form. As she pulls up the blankets around the sleeping body, though, Dreams’ eyes flutter open, and his body tenses. He turns his head to watch her silently.

“I’ve cleaned up the glass, so the living room is good to be in again,” Niki offers. She pulls her hands away, crouching down so she doesn’t loom over Dream. “I was going to let you sleep; sorry for waking you.”

Dream shrugs, not really looking like he had been sleeping in the first place. He sits up, glancing at the sheets pooling around him. Dream glances around, scrubbing at his face and swinging his legs over the side of his bed. Despite Niki’s protests, he gets up and shuffles his way into the living room. His eyes fall on the now empty space on the table, sucking in a soft, shuddering breath. Niki comes to stand beside him.

“Hey,” she says. “It’s okay. I’m not angry, and they won’t be either, okay?”

Dream’s eyes flit from the table down to Niki. His body, slouched forward, leans a little closer to her as he nods silently. He looks back to the room, eyes squinting. He shoves his hands in his pockets and produces the pen and paper he’d kept on him; scribbling down, can you close the blinds? Niki smiles. She needs to encourage him to ask for things, too.

“Sure.”

Dream makes a home for himself on the couch. He eyes Niki’s book and they make idle chatter over it, Niki sitting across from him in the chair. They slide the notepad between each other on the table, both patiently waiting for the other to read or write before responding. Dream apologizes for the outburst. He said that he was feeling overwhelmed and hasn’t had to deal with something like that in a long time. The apology was accepted. Niki even manages to get a small laugh out of Dream, one that tugs gently on his throat and makes his chest stutter. It’s nice to see Dream’s smile, the way it cracks his face as he chuckles to himself. Somehow, it’s the most pride she’s felt in a while.

When Niki gets up to make herself some food, Dream takes her up on the offer to eat together. The list Techno left with what Dream could eat suddenly became very useful when preparing dinner. He doesn’t eat much and apologizes about it, for the hassle he must be causing, but it was what Niki was expecting anyway. Dream goes to sleep soon after that, pausing at his door and sending a quick, earnest thank you to Niki. She smiles.

“You’re welcome, Dream.”

Techno wasn’t mad, and neither was Phil. They seemed more focused on the fact that Dream actually ate a decently sized meal for the first time that week than anything else. Dream, who was hovering in the back, made sure to send Niki off with a little wave.

If she feels a little protective over him during the next Syndicate meeting, that was only her business. If she spoke in a hushed tone and kept an eye on him so he wouldn’t get into trouble, it was just general caution mixed with a bit of care. When she brought the loaves of bread with her on a visit, they were for Techno, Phil, and Dream, but she couldn’t deny the tiny bit of excitement that bloomed in her chest when Phil suggested Dream learn how to bake to help with tremors and outbursts.

If she let Dream into her stash or secret recipes for pies and bread, it stayed between them. Dream promised to keep them secret, and Niki didn’t doubt him. He smiled at her one day, growing nicely into the freckles that had started to speckle his skin, while his third batch of experimental dough was baking. Niki couldn’t help but smile back.

[zodiacrant]

🍩My experiences with each Moon sign🍩

(Cause yall are messy)

I have done this a few times before but for Sun signs and did rank placements but never shared my thoughts and experiences with the Moon signs.

Now I know how this goes, so if you get mad or sad then go off I guess. Aint the first time I get cursed out or attacked in this bitch. Plus, I am a Cap moon so naturally I won’t do well with some Moons and I will be nitpicking everything about everyone.

🍩Aries Moon🍩

My dad’s moon. Yup, that tells you alot without me even starting. Having our Moons in Square shit was hard to say the least. It took a long time for us to be on middle grounds and because I don’t feel comfortable talking about my problems here I will continue on. The Aries Moon that I really like and can think of is Rihanna, so I would say it’s unfair to make a whole judgment but from what I saw and heard they’re not exactly the best to be around. So I give them a 3/10 for being bold and having nerve.

🍩Taurus Moon🍩

Now this Moon right here I know people from ( a close friend and my sister, plus some others) and I don’t have many strong opinions about it. As a Taurus Sun, it can be a challenge to work with a Taurus Moon. I am stubborn at my core and they’re stubborn with their heart, so everytime we disagree it’s like a rope pulling contest. Way too stagnant for me but I think that’s because of my other placements and they don’t take any advice or open up no matter what. On to the good, I never disliked someone with this placement. No matter how much of an asshole they can be, to me it is difficult to hate them or stay mad at them. They’re warm, kind, and sweet but a bit aloof and naive, also they don’t like to touch and hug as some people might think. I will give them a 8/10

🍩Gemini Moon🍩

(⚠️TW⚠️ mention of rape and erratic behavior)

I only had one best friend with this placement and I don’t I want to meet any more, and I am at peace with that if they resemble her in any way. She was a maniac. She loved to lie, create drama, blow shit up, act crazy and basically be shocking. I do find similarities with Gemini Sun where they do shit for reactions but with her, she will take it to the next level. Lie about being raped, act possessed, or pretend that she is being followed. It’s not fair to associate her with people who share the same Moon as her but that was y’all’s representation in my life. She was erratic so it’s difficult to see where her Moon was in effect and where she was just off. I’ll give them a 1/10, would not recommend until proven otherwise.

🍩Cancer Moon🍩

The first that comes to my mind is Taylor Swift and to me she is the ultimate Cancer Moon. It juat makes sense how fast she takes it to the next level with people. Whether getting serious quickly with someone or throwing down and feuding. She just always at a 100. Personally, I never got close with someone who has this placement, maybe it’s because I am a Capricorn Moon myself, but I would say the ones that I have met were nice. I’ll give them a 5/10

🍩Leo Moon🍩

I only had one best friend with this placement but the people I have met with this Moon I still remember. They all had one thing in common and that was being emotionally traumatized and have lost one parent. My best friend was super loyal, very confident in what they believed in and represented, were always there for me and had an amazing ability in motivating others. But they were also super prideful and there’s no coming back with them. Fight once and it’s over. (Yes I am looking at you Jonnie). One of the other people was with me in uni and always had the to urge won up me and my friend. He had scars all over and he doesn’t remember how he got them. But he was super proud of himself and his home country, which I respect and admire. I’ll give them a 6/10

🍩Virgo Moon🍩

I know two people with this placement, my mom and a professor at uni, and oh boy it makes sense that they’re a Virgo Moon. Me and my mom are too alike that we clash strongly at times. She thinks she can do it better and I think I can do it better and we just have like a competition on who done it better basically. From cooking, to how you light the stove, to how you put on clothes, to how you lay down on bed. Both my mom and my professor are super critical and precise, althogh my professor is a double Virgo (Sun and Moon) so she will go even further. They have to do everything as it arises and act like there’s no time and everything is about to go wrong. Like damn sis chill the fuck out for a sec and this is coming from a Cap moon so you know it’s bad. But I really like Virgo Moon, even though people might hate such a personality but I can relate to them in some ways. I’ll give them 7/10

🍩Libra Moon🍩

My only online friend that I talk to all the time got this Moon. Other than her I met only two people and they were something. Okay so for my friend, because I never actually have seen her physically with my own eyes I can’t say how she acts all the time, but she is one of the best listeners I had in my life. She likes to hear me ramble for an hour about a dumb encounter that lasted a second, talking about astrology and some nerdy things and then not so nerdy things. I believe that it’s a Libra Moon quality to be emotionally versatile and attentive. I think because she is a Leo dominant she acts much fiery and fiercely than a Libra would. As for the other people I just thought they were fake. One acted as a friend but then would just disappear so I was over it quickly and the other was super passive and pretentious that I think she shits out plastic. All in all I think it’s a great Moon. I’ll give them a 7/10

🍩Scorpio Moon🍩

One of the hardest Moons I ever delt with but I find that I love them too. My oldest sister had this Moon and she is such a mystery. Because I am a Taurus Sun, it is only natural for me to have a hard time with a Scorpio Moon. Even though she is an extrovert, she rarely talks about herself and her feelings, you will never catch her slipping or show vulnerability. I can see how difficult it may be for her being a Cancer with a Scorpio Moon and have Gemini dominance. But she’s a bitch at heart and I am cool with it. I’ll give them 5/10 cause I am not a big fan of paradoxical people

🍩Sagittarius Moon🍩

A moon that I always babysat. I had two best friends with this Moon and if I was born a second earlier, it would mine too. I don’t know if it’s because of my Gemini Venus or my 0 degree Capricorn Moon but I love Sagittarius Moons. I was fortunate to see some of their weaknesses and for them to trust me enough to be vulnerable. But boy do they get themselves into the dumbest situation because they wanted to see what would happen. I had to babysit them and help them do everything like shopping, cooking, cleaning, assembling furniture, be their body guard when buying weed. (Shhhh it’s a secret). They’re in many ways immature cause they run from things and everytime you try to be real with them, they say “stop being negative”. I’ll give them a 9/10

🍩Capricorn Moon🍩

The grande dame of the Moon signs, sitting at it’s opposite planet. I have met many Cap Moons and honestly we are bitches 😂. The energy of sitting next to a Capricorn Moon is too fucking much like I never knew it’s like that. I noticed the way they stare, talk, walk and sit can be so aggressive and intimidating. I see why people might label us as bullies, cause the energy is definitely there and I myself was such a cunt (still a little but I am more aware of myself now) that I get where both are coming from. Life as a Capricorn Moon is emotionally flat. If wasn’t for my other placements you will never see me even flinch. I think we just take everything and let it process in our head before we let it into our hearts. So to me, we’re not mean, we just don’t see how something might be hurtful. But also that tone and that blank face, goddam! That’s why I try to smile cause bitch no, I didn’t know I was walking with a death stare this whole time. Anyways, I will give us 10/10 cause I am self appreciative like that 😂✌️

🍩Aquarius Moon🍩

I have always tried to understand Aquarius Moon and it was only a month ago that I have realized they themselves are not sure of who they’re. I had one best friend with this placement and three cousins (all siblings). First, my cousins are super competitive with each other on who gets to do what and if it happens that they’re similar in something they will get pissed. The person that was my best friend was like that as well. Only he would drop a an entire hobby, interest, something close to his heart, shit even a personality trait. I find them to be constantly changing and trying, so they shift between one end of extreme to the other until they center themselves. I’ll give them a 4/10

🍩Pisces Moon🍩

Now let’s talk about a depressing placement, in my opinion of course 😅. I don’t know if it’s the influence of Neptune on the Moon or is it the just the demeanor of Pisces, but good god girl get a grip (they call this the five G’s). My youngest sister is a Pisces Moon, and as creative as she is, she is pessimistic and overly cynical. I mean I am all for being critical and real but looking at everything with jacked up black sprayed glasses is just too much for me. Other than my sister I don’t know any Pisces Moon very well but I had a few acquaintances. I noticed that they talked about a specific thing and that’s it. I have found them to be amazing at drawing, painting and have an incredible artistic sense. At times twisted and dark, but I love the art that comes with it. I’ll give them a 5/10

Here’s the tea. It’s Pisces season so remember I am sensitive right now, and also it’s my life and I wish I met someone as amazing as you might think you’re. (Maybe that was a little too aggressive)

Okay love you ❤️

[theseerasures]

a yearning nation’s blueeyed pride

honestly there is just like. no point as of Witch (if not earlier) in thinking about Marrow and Winter as following along the same defection path, and downright facile to compare the two in terms of who is “closer” to defecting and therefore “less problematic” (even setting aside that making value judgments along those lines in fiction is...never that straightforward), when the narrative has emphasized REPEATEDLY how they are on entirely separate tracks in terms of character and role in the Atlas military.

seriously, it’s like saying “this orange is bad because you can’t eat the peel like you can eat an apple skin”

so like, yes, Marrow is the one who has verbally expressed his misgivings, and has clearly articulated scruples (as opposed to just the dial-up noise) and will blurt them out any second now as soon as he gets a word in edgewise. but also: Marrow HASN’T gotten a word in edgewise (except with Winter, fancy that), and has done approximately fuck all to actually subvert the system that he is growing to hate. both his theory and lack of praxis are tied into Marrow’s relatively low, overlooked position in the Atlas system, and feed into the fact that for Marrow the project of Atlas is not personal.

Marrow joined the military on ideological grounds. he clearly does want personal connection, but that has been denied him at every turn, largely by his teammates, largely by his partner, all of whom use him to enforce their own struggles with the clash between political duty and personal grief. he has been alienated by the system he upholds, which started even before we meet him. this makes it much harder for him to rebel in deed, because he doesn’t have a lot of power to begin with and he knows the system will not protect him if he does; at the same time, that relative powerlessness and isolation keeps his investment in Atlas abstract, uncomplicated, and much easier to dispel. Marrow is still with Atlas because he has a job to do, because it’s his duty, because he is still clinging to the Atlas military’s illusory altruism. he wants Penny to come with them so she can save Atlas. his protestations at seeing Team FNKI, that they are “just kids,” comes from the belief that it is categorically wrong to send children into battle. what is keeping Marrow from defecting is belief, and once the belief is shattered--like, say, when his boss’ new ingenious plan is to Nuke the Poors--there is nothing keeping him around.

and once his path is set he will not waver, because Atlas, by design, has no hold on him materially or personally (outside of his own life, which he was already happy to dedicate to a cause). Marrow then, is the limit case of Atlas being hoist with its own petard: an exemplar for how it gives its people nothing while demanding everything, but also an exemplar for how quickly the entire system folds in on itself when the veil is lifted. when Marrow defects (and it IS when) it will represent Atlas as a whole defecting from itself, even if we don’t see it visually--from the civilians, to the enlisted soldiers, to perhaps even members of Marrow’s own team.

NONE of the things i just mentioned really apply to Winter, because there is nothing about Atlas that is not personal for Winter.

i have no doubt that Winter is in some ways invested in same abstract principles that swayed Marrow, but that is constantly overridden by the fact that Winter has family at all sides of this, even before everything fell to shit, and the narrative will not stop reminding her.

“what about your sister?” “would you say the same thing if it was your sister inside?” her father was gunning for a seat on the Council. the man who took her in is essentially Head of State. Penny has made herself Public Enemy Number One, and Weiss is actively abetting her. even Whitley has now thrown himself into the fray, unbeknownst to her. and another person might be better at compartmentalizing all this the way Winter clearly wants to, and stick to the party line, but Winter cannot, because the more i watch her the more i’m convinced that the current crisis in Atlas is just a microcosm of the real issue, which is to say: everything is personal in Atlas for Winter, because everything is personal for Winter.

at a moment-to-moment level, and especially when backed into a corner, Winter defaults not to ideology but her tightly coiled lattice of personal relationships. and this makes perfect sense, because Winter grew up in a household where she had to perpetually crisis respond, and then she never stopped. Marrow does what he does because he believes in the dream, in making the world a better place, and therefore it is more difficult in some respects for him to defect, because it involves taking a long hard look at and then rejecting the structures he bought into and made himself complicit in. once lines are crossed and he DOES do that, though, he’s home free. for Winter, there are no lines to cross, because all Winter wants in the end is to throw her arms around everyone she cares about and drag them to safety. to keep them there, closely held, where she can see them and make sure that they stay safe.

but what’s tricky about Winter--what’s fascinating to me, what Jacques tried to beat out of her, what James alternately capitalizes on and tries to quash, what she resents about herself--is that in times of crisis (which for Winter is again ALL THE TIME), “everyone she cares about” becomes everyone, so that suddenly she takes a shine to the General’s war machine, so that she’s risking her life to give Penny and Fria a few more seconds of time, so that she’s stepping in front of Elm’s incoming fist, so that she’s letting JYR go rescue Oscar. Marrow has ideals he values, but at her core Winter has nothing but the people, who are real the moment she sees and feels them--real enough to defend, or defend against.

Winter jealously protects her web of people, but that web will also spiral out to infinity if she lets it--so she doesn’t. she has adamantly refused to move out of the mode where she lives present-by-present, only reacting to what is right in front of her, what she has been told, weighing her own life against the people who are closest, and no more. this is unquestionably a trauma response, but it’s also reinforced by 1) her choice to become a career soldier, and 2) the fact that Winter actually HAS quite a bit of power, and she knows that. but she has never trusted herself with any of it, largely because her hypervigilant response to situations has only ever been chastised instead of rehabilitated. Winter knows the weight of her name and her position, but she constantly tries to ignore it, or run away from it, so that she is only ever the heiress, the second-in-command, and never the Queen. she cannot be a leader until she is Good (that is to say, perfect and rational), so she tries to obliterate her power the same time she obliterates that pesky personhood: remaining still for as long as possible, avoiding situations that she knows will prompt action and choice, and when absolutely pushed to think through her power, moving the pieces around with extreme caution, hoping that the world won’t be burnt black by it.

Marrow and Winter are fundamentally at opposing ends of the personal-political bleed, and the story could NOT telegraph it any more clearly than their conversation in Witch, where Marrow makes a personal plea to Winter so that she can make a call far beyond just that, and she refutes him, by reminding him of his obligation to Atlas in the form of impersonal duty.

i’ll conclude by pointing out that there is something very interesting happening with Winter right now, that exceeds her power in-universe. because even as a Schnee, as Ironwood’s protege, what Winter can do is limited (partly because she limits herself), except for how the story has resolutely centered her actions and MADE them significant. in the course of this war Winter has let herself make exactly two choices--both of them noninterventionist, easily justifiable, and not meant to take any ideological stand--and they ended up altering the entire fabric of the war with Salem. all because she loved her sisters more than her duty. all because she was shown a slim chance to save the kingdom and a fourteen-year-old boy, and she thought just for an instant, what’s the harm

(and James Ironwood will never know. that even with his plan, his bomb, all his ships, all his soldiers...he was no match for her. his loyal lieutenant. the only child he will ever have, who has only ever called him “sir.”)

it is not about what Winter COULD have chosen in those moments, if she had the ability to stop Penny and Weiss from leaving, if JYR were even Oscar’s rescuers, in the conventional sense. it is about the fact that she DID make those choices, and the story has made them reverberate, in spite of the fact that she did not mean for them to. Marrow’s story is about being neglected and overlooked by the system, the moment of recognition that it needs you more than you need it, that there are so many more of you, and together you can stop chasing the dream and make your own. Winter’s story cleaves to the heart of not just Atlas, but the RWBY monomyth, which goes something like: stars are like us. the world was created because two brothers could not get along, and sundered because a woman could not cope with her grief. just because you move closer to the elite, to the center, to the top, to the sublime, it does not mean that you move farther from the fallible. we are all, at our deepest layer, people.

but the world does not tremble any less for it.

[hrina]

Something Strange

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: R WORD COUNT: 6.3k+ REQUESTED: no

uhhhh hi. so. this is my (first ever) halloween fic, ft. infuriatingly cocky ghostbuster!harry. i really hope you guys enjoy it, and just like every other writer on this godforsaken site, i’d love to hear any feedback that you might have. ok im done now lol go forth and read :)

warnings: cursing, brief nsfw content, a nasty habit of jumping to conclusions, and harry being an asshole with a secret heart of gold.

~*~

    October 2nd, 2021

Your attention is first caught by the massive, obnoxiously-coloured truck parked in Mindy and Gerald’s driveway. The entire vehicle is a shade of navy blue, though its sophistication is ruined by the neon green bubble lettering streaked across its doors.

Spooked? Call Styles’ Scares!

Beneath that, there’s a promise painted in bright pink:

Lasting results or your money back!

“What the hell?” you mutter.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and exit your car, momentarily forgetting about the groceries sitting in the trunk. Mindy and Gerald are standing on their porch, absorbed in a light-hearted conversation. When they catch sight of you trekking across the lawn, they smile brightly and offer up a pair of welcoming waves.

“Hi, there!” you call, shoving your hands into the back pockets of your jeans. “What’s all this?”

“Good afternoon, dear!” Mindy replies. She quickly descends the front steps, meeting you halfway and enveloping you in a tight hug. “How are you? It’s been a while since we last spoke.”

“You can drop in whenever you want,” you say, chuckling. “It’s not like I live very far away.”

“How have you been?” Gerald follows his wife, steadily making his way off the porch. “How’s school?”

“It’s alright.” You shrug. “Things are picking up, now, but I’m trying my best to stay on top of them.”

You toss your thumb over your shoulder, gesturing to the bright pickup truck parked in their driveway. (It really is ugly, you think. Probably one of the ugliest vehicles that you’ve ever had the displeasure of perceiving.)

“What’s going on?”

“Oh!” Mindy lifts her hands to her mouth, gazing at you with wide, serious eyes. “Our house is haunted.”

You balk. “Pardon me?”

“I know, I know,” she sighs, shaking her head. “It sounds silly. I didn’t believe it at first either, but—something keeps knocking our picture frames off the wall. And the lights! They start flickering at random intervals throughout the day.”

“Are you sure it’s not just rats?” you joke.

Gerald, who has now joined you on the lawn, holds up his hand solemnly. “We tried using traps, but they haven’t been touched at all.”

“Exactly.” Mindy nods, turning back to you. “We’re already worried about Joseph’s wedding next week, so one of the ladies at the community centre recommended Harry. That same day, Gerald gave him a call, and that was the end of it.”

“Who’s Harry?” you ask, brows knitting together in confusion.

“Er—” A deep voice sounds from behind you. “I am.”

When you turn around, you come face-to-face with one of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen. He’s got mossy green eyes, dark pink lips, and brown hair that curls around his temples and behind his ears. Smooth skin stretches out over high, chiseled cheekbones and a sharp jaw. He’s wearing a pair of light-wash jeans and matching white sneakers. A black hoodie covers his broad chest; upon taking a closer look, you note that the two front strings have been tied into a picturesque little bow.

Mindy wastes no time, introducing the two of you immediately. When Harry holds out his hand for you to shake, you don’t hesitate.

“Did you want my card?” he asks, peering at you curiously.

You study his expression. Beneath his seemingly sincere exterior, arrogance runs wild and unchecked. You know this man. You’ve met him a hundred different times under a hundred different circumstances, and you’ve learned to recognize a lost cause when you’re staring it square in the face.

“Not at all.” You shoot him a fake smile. “I’m just the neighbour.”

“Right.” His lips twitch. He steps back, rolling his shoulders and lifting his chin in the direction of the house. “Well, I should probably get to work. It was nice meeting you, babe.”

Your nose wrinkles as the pet name sinks in.

When you turn back around to resume your conversation with Mindy and Gerald, they’re gone. Your eyes bounce to the right, where you find them guiding Harry up the porch steps. Mindy has one hand on his bicep whilst gesturing animatedly with the other. Gerald opens the front door and holds out his arm, welcoming Harry inside.

You scoff, shaking your head in disdain.

“Ghosts aren’t real,” you mumble as you make your way back across the lawn. The trunk of your car squeaks when you pull it open, and plastic bags rustle as you gather your groceries into your arms.

Ghosts aren’t real. And Harry is obviously a scammer, based on…well, based on everything. The tacky design on his truck. The unprofessional wardrobe. The self-assuredness emanating from every cell in his body. Babe.

But Mindy and Gerald truly believe that their home is haunted. Trying to change their minds without a shred of physical proof is pointless. You blow out a soft sigh, accepting the grim reality of your situation.

Your neighbours are gullible, trusting people. And for the next few days—whether you like it or not—Harry is here to stay.

      October 5th, 2021

You’re approximately two seconds away from chucking your textbook against the far wall.

You’ve been trying to finish this chapter for the past hour. And though you pride yourself on being tolerant when it comes to petty annoyances, your patience is wearing thin. A quick glance out of your bedroom window reveals Harry’s hideous pickup truck parked—yet again—in Mindy and Gerald’s driveway.

You roll your eyes. Of course.

The piercing, raucous whirring starts up again; you release a frustrated yell, slamming your book shut and leaping off your bed. You’re muttering obscenities under your breath as you stalk down the hall, stopping briefly to slide on a pair of fuzzy slippers. When you yank your front door open, the chilly autumn air settles into your bones.

The clamour grows louder as you stomp across your shared lawn. When you knock on Mindy and Gerald’s door, the commotion is nearly unbearable. A few seconds go by, during which your presence remains unacknowledged; you rap once again on the wood, hoping that the sound will be conspicuous enough amidst all of the background noise.

Sure enough, everything goes quiet. Your shoulders slump with relief just as the door opens. Mindy greets you with a friendly smile.

“Hi, dear,” she says kindly. “What can I do for you?”

“Hi.” You force yourself to mirror her affable expression, hoping that she can’t see the pained exhaustion brewing in your eyes. “Could I just—could I speak with Harry, please? It won’t take long.”

“Of course.” She nods before peering at you anxiously. “Don’t tell me that you’ve got ghosts, too.”

“No.” You shake your head. Ghosts aren’t real, you want to say, but you hold your tongue. “No, I just—I just need to have a quick word with him, that’s all.”

“Alright. I’ll go fetch him.” She turns around and totters away.

You hear her call his name, followed by the telltale sound of shuffling. After a few long moments, he’s there, leaning against the doorway with a bemused look on his face.

“Evening, babe,” he says coolly. “What’s up?”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap, folding your arms over your chest.

Harry’s eyebrows shoot upward. He hadn’t expected you to greet him with such animosity, you suppose. His outfit is nearly identical to that of the other day, save for the red bandana perched atop his head. He buries his fingers into the pockets of his jeans, shrugging nonchalantly and pinning you with a blasé, unimpressed gaze.

“Noted,” he says. The corners of his lips curl up into a crooked smirk as he repeats, “What’s up?”

“You need to keep it down,” you say flatly. “I don’t know what kind of fake ‘exorcism’ bullshit you’re trying to pull off, but the noise is driving me insane. I need to study.”

“‘Fake’?” Harry parrots. “You don’t believe in spirits?”

“No,” you deadpan. “I don’t.” You narrow your eyes, studying the subtle movements of his face. “And if I had to take a wild guess, neither do you.”

“Really,” he says, chuckling softly. It isn’t a question.

“Really.”

Harry watches you, tickled by your obvious exasperation. “I get the feeling that you don’t like me very much.”

“Look at that,” you say, rolling your eyes. “He does have a brain.”

“You’re so judgmental.” He laughs, shaking his head. “How can you dislike me when you barely even know me?”

“I know enough,” you reply, scowling. “I know that you’re a fraud who takes advantage of people and their fears. And for what? Just so that you can take home a paycheque at the end of the day?”

“Ouch.” Harry feigns injury, placing a large hand over his heart. “That hurts, babe.”

There it is again. Babe.

“You know what?” Your nostrils flare. “Forget this—it’s like trying to explain rocket science to a toddler.”

He grins. “Yeah, I suppose. I’m much cuter, though, don’t you think?”

You scoff, pedalling backward. “In your dreams.”

His delight only seems to grow when your retort sinks in. You whip around, descending the porch steps and storming back toward your house. When you chance a glance over your shoulder, Harry is still standing in the doorway, a shit-eating smile stretched wide across his cheeks.

“Just keep it down, okay?” you call irritably.

He raises two fingers to his temple in a mock-salute, and you march away without another word.

      October 8th, 2021

“You’re sure?”

You laugh. “Yes, Mindy, I’m sure. I promise.”

“Alright,” she assents, blowing out a quiet sigh through the phone. “I went grocery shopping today, so our cupboards are fully stocked—help yourself to anything you’d like. Also, when you flush the downstairs toilet, the water may look like it’s rising, but it goes down after a second or two.”

“Noted.” You snicker. “Anything else?”

“That’s it,” she says. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem,” you reply. “Tell Joseph and Amy that I said congratulations, yeah?”

“We will! See you later, dear.”

“See you later.”

      October 9th, 2021

When Mindy and Gerald get back tomorrow afternoon, you’re going to wring their necks.

Agreeing to housesit whilst they celebrated their son’s wedding a few cities away? Sure. Fine. You had a long night full of nothing planned—sitting in front of the television, munching on some snacks, relaxing for the evening and trying to forget about all of the schoolwork waiting for you at home. You were in the middle of watching a Golden Girls rerun when, suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

“Coming!” You stood, setting your bowl of popcorn aside. The knocking continued as you made your way to the front entrance, wiping your buttery fingers against the dark leggings covering your thighs.

“I’m coming,” you said exasperatedly. You opened the door, ready to shoo away whoever it was—a salesperson, probably.

Instead, you came face-to-face with Harry.

And now, you’re here—slumped on the couch, angrily shovelling popcorn into your mouth. You keep your gaze trained on the television, trying your hardest to avoid the man who is setting up his “equipment” in the middle of the room.

“Can’t you do this in the kitchen?” you deadpan.

He flicks a switch on his machine—it looks an awful lot like a standard centrifuge. What a fraud.

“Spirit energy’s strongest in here,” he grunts. His knees scuff against the carpeted floor.

A derisive laugh falls from your lips. “Mindy and Gerald aren’t here—you can drop the act.”

Harry glances up at you, his pretty green irises glimmering. “What act?”

You roll your eyes and look away, fixing your attention back on the grainy screen.

Neither of you say anything for the next few minutes; tension builds, saturating the air and making it hard for you to breathe. Eventually, Harry breaks through the awkward silence. You want to scream.

“Er—” he starts, expectant. “Do you mind stepping out for a second? I need the room.”

Your nostrils flare. “Excuse me?”

“I need the—”

“I heard you,” you say, sitting up straight. “You don’t need anything. What the hell are you playing at?”

“I’m not quite sure what you mean, babe.” His tone is genuine, but you can sense the mirth simmering just beneath the surface. His lips twitch, and your frustration boils like water over a stove.

“Stop calling me that,” you snap, folding your arms across your chest. “And stop playing dumb. Other people might put up with your pseudo-spooky bullshit, but I won’t. Ghosts aren’t real!”

The lights go out.

You gasp, straining your eyes in an attempt to regain your bearings. Slowly, blurry shapes and shadows materialise in front of you. You fumble around for your phone, picking it up and tapping the screen. A moment later, the device’s flash lights up the room. You shine it from side to side, eventually settling on Harry, who is looking up at the ceiling in complete and utter bewilderment.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “Now you’ve done it.”

“Done what?” you squawk, glaring at him. “The power went out. Big deal.”

The lights flicker fleetingly, and then the room is dark again. Your eyes drift over to Harry; he’s smirking.

“This isn’t a ghost,” you say stubbornly, waving your phone around. The bright light bounces across the walls before you steady yourself, positioning the beam back on him. He stands, sinking his hands into the deep pockets of his sweatpants.

“And how would you know?” he teases, cocking one eyebrow challengingly.

“Because,” you scoff. “Ghosts aren’t real.”

Something crashes to the floor. You yelp in surprise, your head snapping to the right. When you shine your light in the direction of the noise, you find a shattered picture frame lying on the ground.

“What the fuck?” Harry murmurs, advancing toward the mess.

“Careful!” you say, holding up your hand. He stops in his tracks, peering over at you in confusion. “There’s glass, idiot,” you explain, climbing to your feet. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

He shoots you a crooked smile. “You do care.”

“I don’t.” Your response is curt. “I just don’t feel like driving you to the hospital so that they can remove fragments from your foot.”

Harry chuckles.

You sigh, squinting at the fallen frame. “We can clean it up when the lights come back on,” you say, mostly to yourself. “I don’t want to risk anything.”

He nods and yawns, stretching his arms out above his head. “Suit yourself, babe.”

“The next time you call me that, I’m going to—”

“What?” he asks, padding over to the sofa. You watch him approach with a deep scowl on your face. He collapses onto the couch, slouching and spreading his legs obnoxiously wide. “You gonna beat me up or something?”

You shake your head in disbelief, stepping away from him. “You’re a piece of shit.”

“So you say,” he replies, unbothered.

“You’re so—”

You break off, producing an angry noise in the back of your throat. Harry winks at you; in response, you whip around and storm away, carving out a path from the living room to the kitchen.

You shine the light from your phone across the cupboards, making a beeline for the fridge. When you pull it open, the cold compartment is dark. Squinting, you reach for one of the many water bottles stacked on the top shelf.

Stupid Harry, with his stupid smile and his stupid eyes and his stupid attitude and his stupid bogus business. You can’t believe that Mindy and Gerald were naïve enough to fall for his bullshit. You need to have a long talk with them when they get back, you think—to ensure that they never swallow a pill this big ever again.

“Thirsty?”

You nearly jump out of your skin, pointing your phone toward the kitchen’s exit. Harry is standing there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his broad chest. You bring one hand up to your sternum, trying to calm your racing heart.

“Jesus Christ,” you hiss, shaking your head. “You scared the shit out of me!”

He snickers lowly. You turn your attention back to the fridge, grabbing a water bottle and uncapping it quickly. Through the darkness, Harry watches you gulp down the cool liquid; you pretend not to notice.

“Can I help you?” you finally ask, wiping your mouth with the heel of your palm.

“No.” He shrugs. “Just…looking, I guess.”

“That’s creepy,” you reply flatly. He laughs.

“May I steal a bottle?” he says, padding across the tiles. “I’m parched.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek. “I—sure. Whatever.”

And though you try, you can’t seem to tear your gaze away from him. He hums as he opens up the fridge, leaning forward to get a better look inside. You play with the hem of your sweater, standing behind him awkwardly. When he peers over his shoulder, you quickly look away, feigning interest in the marble countertop next to the sink.

“Er—” he starts. He fixes you with an inquisitive look, glancing down at the device in your hand. “Would you mind? I can’t see anything.”

“Don’t you have your own?” you ask.

“Yeah, but you’re already holding yours. Come on.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine.”

You draw nearer, lifting your phone and shining its flash into the fridge. Harry hums, plucking a water bottle off the top shelf with a satisfied smile. When he turns to face you, a puff of air catches in your throat; he’s awfully close, his torso brushing almost imperceptibly against yours.

You stare up at him, stunned. There’s a small mole beneath the left corner of his mouth. Part of you—an insignificant, microscopic part—fights the urge to reach out and run your thumb over the mark.

“I’m sorry for calling you a piece of shit,” you blurt.

He inhales deeply, chest expanding and fitting a bit more firmly against your own.

The contact snaps you out of your trance. You retreat, backing up against the counter to maintain your balance. Harry clears his throat and glances away.

“Thanks,” he says, his voice hoarse.

Unable to find the right words, you simply nod.

The two of you stand there for a long moment, sinking into a pool of uncomfortable silence. Just when you think that you’re going to choke on the invisible tension, a faint buzz resonates through the air. Less than a second later, the power returns, illuminating the kitchen in a wash of warm, brilliant light.

“Thank God,” you mutter. You shut the flash on your phone, sliding the device beneath the waistband of your leggings.

Harry blinks rapidly, disoriented. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?” you ask, tilting your head to the side.

He waves your question away. “No, it’s—it’s nothing.”

And you don’t really feel like pressing the subject, so you let it go. A tired sigh falls from your mouth as you scan your surroundings.

“Help me find a broom,” you tell him. “We need to sweep up the glass in the other room.”

His lips twitch. “What’s the magic word?”

There he is. The same insufferable man who has been pushing your buttons all week. You scowl, shooting him a displeased glare.

“Forget it.” You drag your fingers down the left side of your face. “I’ll do it myself.”

~*~

“You sure you don’t want my help?” Harry calls, kicking his feet up onto the sofa.

You grunt, crouching next to the shattered glass on the floor. “Positive.”

The broom and dustpan that you’ve acquired from the laundry room are old and frail, but you suppose that they’ll get the job done. You set the dustpan down on the ground, wrapping your fingers around the broom’s handle and trying to maneuver it in an efficient way. It’s no easy feat, but eventually, you manage to create a small, compact pile of shards. Gingerly, you reach for the picture frame, plucking it up from the ground and setting it off to the side. Next, you take your time sweeping all of the fragments into the dustpan, inspecting the floor for any lingering bits.

“Struggling over there?” Harry asks.

You grit your teeth.

“No,” you counter in a matter-of-fact tone. “I think I got it all, actually. No thanks to you.”

You throw the last part over your shoulder, coupling it with an accusatory frown. Harry holds up his hands in surrender, suppressing his amusement.

“Shouldn’t you be exorcising spirits?” you ask. Sarcasm drips from your words.

He chuckles. The couch squeaks as he shuffles around; a moment later, the sound of approaching footsteps reaches your ears. You stiffen when he stops next to your squatted form.

“To be quite honest,” he begins, and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice, “I’m having a much better time watching you.”

“Creepy,” you say. “Again.”

He laughs, lowering himself to his knees. In the periphery of your vision, you watch him pick up the abandoned picture frame, turning it around and studying the photograph inside. His cheeks lift with the slope of a familiar smile, but somehow, this one is different from the others that you’ve witnessed.

It’s real. Sincere.

“Nice, don’t you think?” Harry asks, pulling you from your thoughts.

He extends his arm, revealing the photograph. Mindy and Gerald’s beaming faces stare up at you, a balance of bright grins and crinkled eyes. Subconsciously, your lips curl upward, and you take the frame from Harry’s hands.

“Yeah,” you murmur, running your fingertips over the photo. “They look happy.”

“How long have you known them?” he asks. There’s no malice behind the question.

“Since I moved in,” you say absentmindedly, admiring the ornate frame around the picture. “A few years, now.”

He hums in response. “They talk about you a lot.”

“All good things, I hope.” You cast a wry look in his direction.

He chuckles and nods. “Yeah. They look out for you, it seems.”

“I try to look out for them, too.” You sit back on your haunches, groaning quietly. “Which is why I was surprised that they didn’t come to me when they first thought their house was ‘haunted’.”

Your intonation changes on the last word; you still don’t believe that your neighbours are being plagued by spirits, despite the plethora of peculiarity that you’ve witnessed tonight.

“Maybe they didn’t want to worry you,” Harry suggests.

You roll your eyes. Even now, he refuses to drop the act.

“Sure,” you say. “So, hiring a spirit exterminator—or whatever you pretend to be—was a better move?” You snort softly, climbing to your feet. “How much are they paying you, anyway?”

He purses his lips. “They’re not.”

You freeze.

A beat of silence drags out, during which you swallow your shock. You clear your throat and lift your chin, staring down at Harry banally.

“You’re lying.”

“Nope.”

“You are!” you insist. A short, incredulous laugh tumbles off your tongue. “You are one hundred percent fucking with me.”

“I’m afraid not,” he says.

“Your truck, though...” you say. “‘Lasting results, or your money back’?”

“I’ve got to make it look legitimate, don’t I?” He smirks. “But it’s cute that you remembered.”

Your eyes lock with his, and suddenly, it’s almost impossible to breathe. His gaze is deep, open, and honest. Your lips part, but no sound comes out. Instinctively, your legs carry you a few paces back, veering toward the sofa. You plop down onto the plush cushions, clutching the picture frame tightly between your fingers.

“Then, why—?” you break off, shaking your head. “Why would you—?”

“Peace of mind,” Harry shrugs, still rooted to his spot on the floor. “Ever heard of the placebo effect?”

“You admit it, then,” you say, sitting up straight. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

He nods, blinking languidly. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“So,” you start, trying to make sense of the situation, “you let them believe that you’re actually cleansing the house—for free, too—just to—?” You glance around the room, searching for the right words. “—just to put them at ease?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s…”

Sweet. Thoughtful.

“…ridiculous.”

Harry chuckles. “Thanks.”

“I—” You hesitate, depositing the photograph next to you on the couch. “This whole time, I thought you were just…”

“A con?”

You bring your fingers up to your mouth, nodding silently and studying him with big, rounded eyes.

He shrugs.

“I mean, I never really got the chance to explain myself. You’d already made up your mind about me, hadn’t you? So, I thought I’d just let you stick with your assumptions—it didn’t bother me much.”

“I’m a horrible person,” you say, mostly to yourself.

Harry laughs, shaking his head. “No, you’re not. You’re just a bit judgmental, that’s all.”

“You’re right.” You nod again, bowing your head in shame. “I am. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, babe, really.”

You stand abruptly, abandoning your spot on the sofa.

“I should finish up,” you state, embarrassed beyond belief. Harry watches you closely as you approach. You crouch down next to him, reaching for the dustpan with shaky hands. A few small shards of glass are littered at the brink of the collector; you nudge them away from the edge, trying to be as careful as possible.

“Ow!” you suddenly hiss, retracting your arm quickly. You twist your wrist, fixing your attention on a thin cut engraved into the pad of your index finger.

“What happened?” Harry asks, leaning forward.

You shake your head, waving away his worries. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just got nicked, that’s all.”

“Let me see,” he requests, holding out his own hand.

You pause, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and stealing a quick glance at his face. His expression is concerned, but neutral. Your hesitation is silly, you think—he may be a bit of a jackass, but he’s not going to hurt you. You’ve already condemned him once before, and you were wrong.

You don’t want to make that mistake again.

After a brief moment, you give in, sliding your knuckles into his open palm.

“It’s alright, really,” you say, speaking around the lump in your throat. “The piece was tiny—it hardly broke the surface.”

Harry inspects the laceration closely, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

It’s not that serious, you want to tell him, but you refrain from letting the words escape. Part of you is enjoying the way your hands fit together so perfectly. You don’t want it to end—not yet.

“You’re bleeding a bit, babe,” he announces faintly, brows cinched in concentration.

“I am?” You try to tug your arm back, but he keeps a firm grip on your wrist. A low, confused noise echoes in the back of your throat; Harry peers up at you, his features unreadable.

“It’s just a spot,” he murmurs. “Let me.”

And before you can say or do anything else, he’s taking your finger past his lips and giving an easy, gentle suck.

You squeak.

The sound snaps Harry out of his trance; he releases your hand and recoils hastily. You exhale, driving out the stale air gathered in your lungs. When you peek up at him from beneath your lashes, he’s already watching you, shoulders taut with anxiety.

“Sorry,” he stammers. His nostrils flare. “That was weird—sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say, shaking your head. “Er…thanks.”

“No worries.” He swallows.

“Alright.”

Awkwardly, you wipe your clammy palms against your thighs. Harry seems to be looking at everything except for you; his gaze flits to the ceiling, then to the couch, then to the floor. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek and push yourself up off the ground. The room is painfully quiet as you slowly slink back toward to the sofa.

“I should probably put this somewhere safe,” you mumble, picking up the forgotten picture frame.

Warm air floats over the nape of your neck. You gasp and spin around, nearly toppling over in your haste. Harry’s hands find your shoulders, steadying you and crowding you closer to his chest. You glance up at him; your shallow breaths mingle together in the narrow space, noses only inches apart.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice no higher than a gruff whisper. “Tell me. Please.”

In response, you fumble for one of his hands, grappling at his wrist; he loosens his hold on your arms, confused but willing. He’s motionless as you lift his knuckles up to your mouth. You glance down, tilting your head to the side and studying them carefully. Harry says nothing when you press a soft, feathery kiss to the pad of his index finger.

But then you’re dipping the tip of the digit between your lips, and suddenly, he’s undone.

“Fucking—”

He grabs your face in his palms and seals his mouth to yours.

The two of you stagger backward, tumbling onto the couch. Mindy and Gerald’s picture frame slips from your grasp, landing on a neighbouring cushion with a faint thud. Reflexively, your legs part; Harry takes his rightful place between them, slanting his body accordingly. When he applies the faintest hint of pressure, you moan.

“Fuck.” He draws back, his warm breath wafting over your chin. “Don’t.”

“‘Don’t’ what?” you ask, puzzled.

He shakes his head. “Don’t make those noises. It’s—you’re—I’m—”

He curses quietly and reaches for one of your hands. You allow him to guide your palm lower, inhaling sharply when you feel the slight bulge protruding from his trousers. Instinctively, your fingers close over the subtle ridge of his cock. His shoulders stiffen, and his eyes squeeze shut.

“You’re hard,” you murmur, as though it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Not fully.” He swallows. “But I’m getting there.”

“Because of me?” you ask, peering up at him innocently.

“Yeah.” Harry expels a wobbly, disbelieving laugh. “Yeah, babe—because of you.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as the familiar moniker falls from his mouth. He notices your unusual reaction, mouth curling into teasing smirk.

“What?” he says, lifting one eyebrow. “No nagging, this time? I thought you hated that nickname.”

You grip the collar of his sweater and give a gentle tug, guiding him down for another kiss. When the two of you finally break apart, you shrug. “It’s growing on me.”

He smiles.

“Do you—?” you pause, pursing your lips. The question sounds silly—presumptuous, even. Rather than finishing your sentence, you lift your chin, gazing up evenly into Harry’s green eyes and declaring, “I think I want to sleep with you.”

His cheeks dimple with a wide grin. “Is that so?”

You nod.

“Right, then.” He kisses your nose and pulls away. “There’s a condom in my wallet, but…I may or may not have left it in my truck.”

You groan, allowing your head to fall back against the sofa with a heavy thump. Harry chuckles at your theatrics. After a brief moment of contemplation, you compose yourself and sit up quickly.

“That works, actually,” you say, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Grab your wallet, and then we can go to my place. I don’t think my neighbours would be very happy if we fucked on their couch.”

He laughs, climbing eagerly to his feet and shooting you a smug wink. “You got it, babe.”

      October 10th, 2021

It’s nearly half past noon when you step out onto the porch the next day. You yawn, squinting up at the sun shining brightly in the sky. There are no clouds in sight; the slight chill of the autumn air tickles your exposed arms. You tug on the waistband of your sweatpants, keeping the material seated firmly on your hips.

“Good morning, dear!”

You jump, head snapping in the direction of a familiar voice. Mindy and Gerald are sitting on their veranda, nursing twin cups of coffee and looking awfully cozy. Gerald smiles at you, folding up his newspaper and setting it on his lap.

“Good morning!” You wave before re-evaluating your words. “Well, it’s technically past twelve, so good afternoon.”

Mindy laughs.

“How was the wedding?” you ask, approaching the side of your deck. You lean against the thin metal railing, combing your fingers through your messy hair. “I wasn’t expecting you to be back this soon.”

“We woke up early,” Mindy explains. “And the wedding was fabulous. Amy wore the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.”

“Really?” You grin. “Do you have any pictures?”

“Of course! Just let me run inside and grab my phone—”

“Mornin’,” a gruff voice says from behind you.

You gasp and spin around, bringing a hand to your chest. The sight laid out before you has your heart speeding up, galloping wildly and battering against the confines of your ribs.

Harry’s wearing that same hoodie from last night. Your gaze trails lower—he’s also sporting a pair of grey boxers and white socks. There’s a mug nestled in each of his large hands, his spindly fingers wrapped around the handles comfortably. Your eyes lock with his sleepy ones, and your breathing hitches in your throat.

“Morning,” you whisper, unable to muster up anything louder.

“I—” Harry clears his throat, stepping closer and extending his left arm. “I, er, took the liberty of making us some tea. Hope you don’t mind.”

“No, it’s—” You swallow as you accept one of the mugs, suppressing a giddy smile. “It’s completely fine. Thank you.”

“Of course.” He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Sleep well?”

“Mhm.” You nod shyly.

He chuckles. “Good.”

His gaze wanders over your shoulder, and it’s then that he notices Mindy and Gerald sat on the neighbouring porch. Without even batting an eye, he lifts his hand in a friendly wave. “Morning, you two. How was the wedding?”

You turn back toward the couple, a sheepish look on your face. Mindy is beaming, and Gerald is trying to hold back a laugh. Heat creeps up your neck; you wish that the ground would just open up and swallow you whole.

“It was wonderful!” Mindy trills. Her enthusiasm has skyrocketed. You pinch the bridge of your nose, utterly mortified.

“Yes.” Gerald finally pipes up, smirking knowingly. “It was great. What about you, though? How was your night?”

“Fine,” you blurt before Harry can respond. “It was fine.”

The duo share a look, and then Mindy giggles girlishly. You bring your mug up to your mouth, taking a long sip and groaning into the cup. Harry’s arm snakes around your waist, making you jump. You steal a glance at him out of the corner of your eye; he’s fighting a smile.

“Well—” Gerald clears his throat, plucking his folded newspaper from his lap and rising to his feet. “I think I’ll be going, now. Need to catch up on those few extra hours of sleep.”

“Me too,” Mindy says, nodding fervently. She directs her next words at you. “If you pop by later, I’ll show you those photos, okay?”

“Okay,” you croak.

She shoots you one last grin before disappearing inside.

“God,” you say immediately, hanging your head. “That was torture.”

Next to you, Harry laughs. You aim a weak swat at his chest. He snickers, catching your palm and ducking down to drop a gentle kiss against your knuckles. You exhale shakily, twisting your body around so that you can face him.

“Your hair’s a mess,” you murmur, running your free hand through his dishevelled curls.

He cocks one eyebrow. “And whose fault is that?”

You scoff. “Shut up.”

He chuckles quietly and steps closer to you, holding out his mug. You smile in assent, mirroring his movements and clinking your cups together.

“So,” Harry starts, sipping his tea casually, “you gonna let me take you out on a proper date, sometime?”

“That depends,” you say, trying to ignore the flurry of butterflies flapping around in your stomach. “I’ll go—but only if we take my car. I refuse to drive around town in your tacky truck.”

“It’s not that bad!” he protests.

“It’s awful,” you tell him, shaking your head. “It looks it was decorated by a preschooler during arts and crafts.”

“Fine.” He rolls his eyes playfully, giving in. “Any other requests?”

You pause, lost in thought.

“One more, actually,” you say, fixing him with a challenging stare. “You need to come clean to Mindy and Gerald.”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Alright.”

“Really?” You balk, taken aback by his compliance. “That’s it? But I—I had a whole speech prepared.”

Harry laughs softly, cradling your face with his free hand and kissing you slowly. Your fingers tighten around your mug. When the two of you break apart for air, he shrugs.

“I started considering it after everything that happened last night. Keep your speech, though.” His lips twitch. “You’ll be needing to scold me again in no time, I’m sure.”

Your shoulders shake with a silent giggle. “You’re probably right.”

“Also—” Harry clears his throat, soothing the ache with another sip of tea. “You may want to suggest that they hire an exterminator.”

“An exterminator?” you repeat, blinking in surprise. “But…they don’t have rats. Gerald said that the traps hadn’t been touched.”

“Not rats,” he hums. “Squirrels, I believe. Living in the walls.”

“And how did you reach that conclusion?”

“I’ve been doing this for a while, babe—I’ve seen my fair share of pests. Plus,” he clucks his tongue, “they like to chew on wires.”

“Really?” You sigh distantly, pinching your bottom lip. “God, that sucks.”

“It does.” He nods, wrapping his fingers around your forearm. “But you can tell them later.”

“Later?” you say, brows knitting together. “Why not right now?”

“Because,” Harry grunts. You squeal when he crowds you up against your front door. He cups your jaw and tilts your chin up with his thumb, handsome face splitting into an easy, salacious grin.

“Right now, I’m taking you back to bed.”

~*~

thanks for reading! if you enjoyed this piece, please consider donating to my ko-fi! and as always, don’t forget to share your thoughts. thank you bunches <3

[simeonisalesbian]

💳💥💳💥💳💥 my inner lesbian is kicking in full force because of your blog !! is it okay if i request how the sister's weddings would be? and if it's okay, maybe fem! simeon as well? have a good day/night 💞

*evil laughter* I shall feed all the wlws exactly what they want >:3 Mostly because it is also want I want lmao

Lucifer:

please pull her away from planning the wedding everyone and a while

She's treating it like she treats her paperwork and she's going to pass out from lack of sleep the day of at this rate

she lets you male most of the actual decisions and just does the grunt work of it honestly

She insists that she prefersit this way but she does light up a bit when you ask her to choose the music for the ceremony

She also insists on havinga wedding that doesn't use white as its primary color. She's pretty content with any other color as long as it isnt white

shes extremely stressed on the days leading up to the wedding and will snap at her sisters every chance she gets.

Sometimes its not even their fault she just needs a bit of a punching bag. They silently agreed to put up with it for now though

She plans to wear a suit to the wedding since she just doesn't vibe with the big loud fancy wedding dresses honestly

she looks so relaxed and happy staring at you with all the adoration in the world when the day finally comes

Mammon:

She's honestly so impulsive that if you let her she will just elope as soon as you say yes

If you do want a big ceremony thought let her know she won't mind either way

she promises to help you plan everything but please double check the price on everything she picks

she will bankrupt you both trying to make the biggest shiniest wedding imagable

just gently remind her that more expensive doesn't always mean better

she does does want the primary color to be gold but she'll happily change it if you don't like it

Hell she'll throw out all her ideas if you don't like them honestly

she plans on wearing a suit with all sorts of sparkles on it.

has a big sappy smile on her face the whole day. Though she doesn't cry a lil bit during the actual ceremony which she'll deny of course

Leviathan:

She doesn't want a big wedding. That's her biggest thing honestly. The last thing she wants is to have a panic attack on your wedding day

she did suggest one somewhere by the sea weather it be a beach or just a cliff by the water. She'll leave the specific location to you.

does bring up the concept of a cosplay wedding. Her sisters of course are against it though.

The compromise is a TSL themed wedding. Leviathan has enough knowledge of the series to make it as subtle or outright as you'd prefer of course

She honestly doesn't know wether to wear a suit or a dress. So she asks you which you plan to wear so she can pick the opposite

The day of its a battle to keep Levi from panicking and running off. She's just really concerned your gonna change your mind or end miserable or-

Her sisters are doing everything in their power to keep her grounded don't worry.

when she is finally at the alter with you she's switching between stating at you with the most lovestruck gaze and anxiously fidgeting

You were 100% certain she was going to pass out when you kissed but by some miracle she managed to hold it together

Satan:

she wants her wedding to be pretty traditional tbh.

It still takes so much planning though because your wedding will be Perfect.

she isn't going to settle for anything less.

Her sisters had to hold her back when the flowers the were delivered were wrong at first.

She did spend days debating whether to wear a suit or a dress. Eventually gave up and decided on one that's a mix of both.

Asmodeus does help with picking out the outfit though so don't worry about Satan’s lack of fashion sense

she is the only sister who actually followed the "don't see your SO the morning of your wedding" rule.

Just barely though. She'd stand in the doorway covering her eyes just so she could talk to you for a while

She's blushing with a soft smile the whole ceremony. She also tears up a bit but I wouldn't really call it crying

Asmodeus:

She's says she wants a big wedding. But she'll of course change that I'd you aren't comfortable with that

she wants lots of flowers. They're just so pretty and she wants this wedding to be the most beautiful wedding so lots of flowers

This being said it might work better to just have an out door wedding so the flowers get some fresh air and you aren’t stuck in a room filled with pollen

She's also a pain to deal with since her emotions are running all over the place.

one second she's yelling at someone because the table cloths are the wrong color and the next she's crying cus she's so excited to be married to you

The whole "don't see the bride's dress" thing goes out the window because she both wants to help you and wants you to help pick out her dress

like the wedding she wants the biggest dress imagable

that is until you joke you won't be able to reach her to give her a kiss if she has a dress that big and poofy

She'll still have a big dress just one that's much more reasonable now

she is going to have to be removed from you numerous times the day of because she just has to help with your hair and makeup

Her sisters are this close to just locking her in her room to get her ready honestly

she'll be glued to your side the entire day just so thrilled that you're finally married

Beelzebub:

She's stress eating enough to feed an entire country while planning stuff

Lucifer does have to chain up the fridge at somepoint just so they have enough food to last the week

She's also working out a bunch to try to burn off all the food she ate.

Just try to sit her down for a bit so she can help plan and not focus on her stomach

She doesn't know much about the actual theme and stuff since it honestly doesn't matter much to her

she's happy to go with what ever you pick. She trusts your judgment after all

she thrives in choosing the menu though

not only will you have the biggest and best cake but the rest of the food the will be the best thing that you've ever tasted

There is a secret second cake just incase the first cake isn't enough. It's always good to be prepared.

she's a bit anxious that her dress won't fit the day of because how how much she's been munching on stuff so she has a bigger back up suit just in case.

she does cry during the ceremony just cus she thinks you're so perfect and she will tell you as much.

Belphegor:

also asked if you just wanted to elope. It would have been a lot less work.

She honestly doesn't put in a lot of effort making choices for the wedding.

it's not from lack of trying though. All the choices and options and stressing her out a bit and it's too much

that and she just wants to be married already damn it

she does put in a few ideas though

for instance a night sky themed wedding. There could be both human world and Devildom constellation themed things.

she also teases her sisters with uninviting them anytime they annoy her.

She won't actually uninvite them she just likes seeing them all panicked

Insists you bring Beel for taste testing the food choices since her twin arguably has the best palate

She was apparently half asleep when picking out her dress because on the day of she immediately starts complaining that it's to heavy and that she can't even walk in it.

Luckily Levi could just remove a few layers of the underskirt making it quite a bit lighter.

she looks like she's about to fall asleep a few times throughout the day but she does manage to stay awake

though the dance was a close call since she just kinda leaned only you mumbling nonsense about how much she adored you like she was half asleep

+ Bonus Simeon:

She also plans on a pretty traditional wedding honestly

Though she is pretty open to change.

at first she wanted to have the wedding in a church or even the celestial realm

but she also wanted the others to be comfortable so opted to let you choose somewhere else

Luke and Barbatos make cupcakes to go along with the actual cake

also Luke is the flower girl it's not optional

She's pretty laid back the entire planning process and her stress only shows a little bit when things were a bit off during the rehearsals

you were almost certain she was going to smite Mammon for accidentally spilling her drink

she does follow all the traditional ways of "don't see the bride's dress" and "don't see them the morning of" though she does try to text you the whole morning up until the actual ceremony

she absolutely adores you and smiles at you the entire day.