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amica-aenigmata-naboo · 1 year ago

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COLLISION

Astarion x Y/N - Chapter 2 - 2.5K WC

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 (you are here!)

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5 NSFW 18+

Chapter 6 NSFW 18+

Chapter 7 NSFW 18+

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Magic was tougher than it looked. It felt like the most grueling full body workout. “Well, you’ve got enough to get you through a very short… heavily aided battle.” Shadowheart said, it sounded like the best backhanded compliment.

“Can we be done for the day?” You asked, cracking your neck and stretching your back. “Please?”

Gale smiled and waved you off, “Just for today, we’ll need you in battle soon enough. Best you have a few tricks up your sleeve to survive… A word of advice, seek out Lae’zel, have her show you combat training. The Githyanke are -”

“Excellent warriors, I know.” you stated without thinking.

Gale’s face faltered for a moment before relaxing “Precisely, she’s the best to learn from.” he clapped his hand on your shoulder before walking back to his tent.

Shadowheart was walking back to her tent but gave you a smile and mouthed “good luck” towards you.

You took a deep breath and walked to Lae’zel’s tent. Feet practically made of lead the way the anxiety made them drag. You stopped in front of her not looking up.

“Speak” was all she said.

“I’d like to spar with you… have you teach me how to fight… so I’m not just a useless cleric.” Your lip twitched up at the end of your sentence. Finally raising your gaze, Lae’zel looked at you and crossed her arms.

“Fine. I suppose you can use this.” She said handing you what you recognized as “The Cruel Sting” sword from the drider, Kar’niss.

You clutched the sword and followed Lae’zel to the center of the camp where she unceremoniously body checked you, knocking you onto your back with a groan.

“The Hell was that for?!” you yelled at her.

“Your enemy will not fight fair, you need to know brutality if you wish to fight.” she said as she unsheathed her sword.

You stood and held your sword. Nothing had ever felt more out of place. This wasn't a Renaissance Festival, this was real and you had to learn this to survive. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes and praying a collective prayer to any deity listening. You opened your eyes, the first strike of many clanged against your sword.

Shit.

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Metal collides well past sundown. Lae’zel had run you ragged. You were currently trying to shove her back. She put her foot behind yours and shoved, sending you crashing onto your back.

“Have you learned nothing?!” she yelled so loudly everyone else in the camp was watching now. “Your enemy will not hesitate to kill you. You shall offer them no such mercy either!” she continued to yell.

That's it. That’s what broke the camel's back. Rage consumes you after being beaten down for hours. Your hand reached slowly for the small blade tucked into your breast pocket. Lae’zel put her sword to your neck to demand your surrender. You raised your hands. Lae’zel began putting her sword away and that's when you struck. You kicked her closest ankle and sent her falling. Dagger in your hand, you rolled on top of Lae’zel, straddling her hips and pressing the blade to her throat. She gawked at you, she was speechless.

“Never assume the war is over because the battle was lost.” you said with hate in your voice but a proud smile on your face.

Lae’zel gave the faintest smirk before taping the handle of the blade, signifying she surrendered. Both of you got up slowly. Lae’zel extended her arm. You stared at it in disbelief but your arm went to hers. Holding each other's forearms she shook it once firmly before saying, “Cleric, you may survive us yet.” she let go of your arm, walking to the bonfire as the meat roasting smelled as if it was almost done.

Karlach walked over to you, “That’s as close as you’ll ever get to her saying you’re friends now.” she laughed. “You’ve improved a lot in one day. It’s going to be nice having you around soldier.” she patted your back before she herself walked to the campfire.

You smiled watching her walk away. Glancing at Gale and Wyll they both gave you smiles, Gale giving a soft clap and Wyll a thumbs up. You walked back to your new tent that Karlach had set up for you while you were in the weave. It wrapped around the tree you slept on last night. A bedroll, some candles, and a small table with a lamp softly flickering. The flamed danced shadows across your tent, you laid on your bedroll momentarily, watching the shadows. Quickly, before you got too comfortable, you stood and began your walk to the stream. Your body ached but in a satisfactory way. Maybe you could be an adventurer. At least until you got back home. You shed your camp clothes at the shore, looking back and making sure everyone was at camp. You could hear them eating and telling stories around the fire. You waded into the stream until it reached your ribs. You sat against a boulder in the stream. The water rushing around you felt calming, as if the water was trying to massage the ache out of you. You brushed water over your face and hair before leaning your head back and closing your eyes. Trying to connect to the earth around you, searching for a blissful escape in the elements even if only for a moment.

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Astarion watched you from behind a tree near the shore and his tent. He didn’t mean to spy on you. He honestly thought he saw a fae or siren wade into the water, your body enchanting him. He watched you wade to the boulder finding some sort of solace in it. You leaned there unmoving for what felt like hours.

Sad

That's what rang out in Astarion’s mind. The tadpole saying what your mind must have been screaming. He felt that unfamiliar pang in his chest again. He wanted to… comfort you? He didn’t even know what that would look like. Was it like seduction just… less? He both wanted to know and despised the thought of knowing.

Without realizing it, he had drifted off and he refocused on your form trudging back to the shore. He knew what he had to do to get rid of the pang in his chest. Crush it. Crush you. The very thought hurt him somehow but he knew it had to be done. He walked out from behind the tree heading towards the shore. Your back was facing him, your shirt and underwear on but nothing else. He adored the way the moonlight made your shirt cast a shadow of your body. He noticed every curve, dimple, freckle… he noticed them all.

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“Oh! Astarion…” you jumped when you heard the rocks behind you shift. Your hands flew all over your body trying to cover up but not sure what exactly to cover. He grabbed your hip when you started to move backwards. You glanced at his hand before looking at his face, your eyebrows scrunched together. Astarion hadn’t exactly been the most welcoming in the camp so what was this? Hand still on your hip he possessively pulled you to his chest, his opposite hand tilting your chin up so your lips were a breath away from each other. Your whole body felt like cement and lava at the same time. Your eyes watched his every move.

“A bath with no invite? Darling, you wound me.” he whispered onto your lips. You sucked in an unintentionally sharp breath when he leaned forwards and smashed his lips to yours. He was rough despite his gentle grasp on your chin. He continued to kiss you, nipping at your lower lip.

“Ouch!” you yipped, pushing his chest away.

“Come now darling you cannot be so delicate…” he said seductively.

You backed up and held your arm out in front of you to put a physical barrier between you. “Astarion, stop.” You said as your finger smoothed over the nip on your lip that had drawn the smallest bit of blood.

Now it was his turn to freeze, “What? Why? Is something wrong?” He asked. He almost sounded… annoyed? Instead of concern which you would expect from a lover.

You knew enough about Astarion from your progress in Baldur's Gate III that he was trying to manipulate you by sleeping with you. It saddened you. He might not like you much in reality but you would still protect him like everyone else in your party. Your face gave a painful squeeze before you swallowed it all down. You put your arm down, picking up your pants, boots, and vest. “Astarion… you don’t truly want this. I’ll umm… I’ll see you at camp.” You whispered out.

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The world seemed to be so still and quiet down by the stream. Astarion heard every syllable. He watched you leave quickly and did he detect… a quiver in your voice? Why would you be upset about him trying to fuck you? Why did you say “you don’t truly want this”? He didn’t want it, but how did you know that? He walked back to his tent glumly. After seeing you take down Lae’zel he thought you might not be so bad to have under his thumb. Why would you reject him? He saw himself for the first time in 200 years that morning so he knew for a fact he was still beautiful, fangs and all. He wracked his brain but couldn’t come up with an answer to why his plan didn’t work on you. It works on everyone else.

A bitter seed was planted inside him. He watched your form move around camp for the rest of the night. Eyes never meeting his. He watched you talk with the others. Sing with Wyll. attempt to dance with Karlach. Everyone wore soft smiles, even Lae’zel which was rare. A warmth was spread around the camp. As if the air was made of warm honey. Suffocating you in the best way possible. Rested and comfortable is what it was.

He wanted so desperately to be a part of it. And yet, that bitter seed took root and every thought of you suddenly felt like rot and decay. Finding the bad and none of the good. Making you the cause of such ire. He wanted to be rid of you. He thought of the item you had, the “mirror” he used. Had you told the others about that? What would they think of it? He could twist it to make you look like the villain, he was sure of it.

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“”Y/N darling…”

Your head snapped to Astarion who had silently managed to sit across from you at the bonfire. Your head swirled a bit, whatever Karlach was drinking had some twang to it that's for sure. You were drunk and the warm glow of the fire made you feel like a cat in a sunbeam.

“Astarion darling…” you giggled back.

“Have you told our dear friends about your powerful little tool?” he batted his eyelashes at you but a devious smirk laid across his lips.

Everyone's eyes slowly drifted to you and lord did you feel them on you.

“I… I showed Gale.” you rushed out. You weren’t hiding it. Not truly. You just didn’t know how to tell them what a phone was without having to tell them about your… well… life? And how to you, they were a mere video game. That they didn’t actually exist. That's a little tough to deliver. Especially while drunk.

“Yes! She had me repower it.” Gale chimed in.

“Oh it needs magic to power itself? Sounds dangerous if you ask me…”

Now everyone's eyes were not only looking at you but focused on you, scanning you over for any potential danger. You slowly reached into your bedroll. Your phone lit up and everyone kept a strong hold on their weapons.

“I… it is a power source… but it only powers itself. It’s not dangerous I swear…. It’s used to communicate where I’m from.” you quickly defended yourself.

“And where is that exactly?” Astarion hummed.

Your skin was crawling, you felt how unsteady your stomach was, a cold sweat coating your back, your hands shaking, and dear god you were fighting the urge to spill tears. All out of sheer anxiety. You didn’t want to lie, but you didn’t know how to tell the truth either.

“I… I’m… not from here. Or Baldur’s Gate. Or Faerûn. I’m… I’m from somewhere far away. I’m not sure how to explain it.” you choked out. The tears slipped out but you quickly wiped them away and looked at your new friends, hoping they’d believe you but not push for more answers either.

“How mysterious.” Astarion jested. “Care to show up what it does so we know it isn’t dangerous?”

You looked down at the phone before looking at everyone around you. You had no idea if this would have some sort of butterfly effect or alter reality but you didn’t really care. These people were your best hope, you needed them and were in no position to test their patience. You looked down, defeated. You agreed, turning the phone on you opened the camera app.

“I can use it to see people… and take portraits of them instantly.” you softly explained before taking a picture of yourself and then showing them all the picture. They looked impressed, borderline shocked.

“Anything else?” Astarion asked, sounding unamused.

You opened your music app and clicked on classical music, thinking that would be somewhat close to the music they know. Playing strauss II - voices of spring you turned the volume up and watched them become entranced. Karlach started swaying and humming with the melody. Everyone’s tense appearance faded and they all seemed pleased with the music.

“Portrait machine and a music box, how delightful!” Gale spoke before drinking more wine.

“If you all don’t mind I will retire early this evening.” you spoke softly as you got up and walked away leaving your phone as it began the classical music playlist you had saved for when you would study. Some of the group gave you nods, some were too deep in drink or conversation to notice. But Astarion did.

He saw how tightly you clasped your hands as you walked away. How your eyes were so big and full of fright. How your heartbeat sounded. Terrified.

Shit.

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He watched you from his tent as you threw rocks from the river bank into the riverbed. He could still hear your heartbeat. How strained it sounded. Like it was fighting itself. He felt wretched. He was doing what he needed to. Right? Then why did it hurt so damn bad? Why did the way the tears skimmed down your face feel like a wound to his heart? Why did he want nothing more than to go to you and whisper sweet apologies. He hates you. He has to because it is the only control he can feel at this moment. So why does the final sob he hears escaping you on the shore bring him right back to where he doesn’t want to be. He digs in his supply pack before pulling out the vile of angelic slumber. If he couldn’t meditate this away he was not above drugging himself to sleep for the night. Anything to not feel what he felt when it came to you.

Hello angels! You all were so sweet leaving me comments, likes, and reblogs. Thank you soooooo much! All that support went into overdrive so here is chapter 2! I'll be working on other chapters this week. Thank you again for all the love, I love interacting with ya'll! <3

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throneofsapphics · 1 year ago

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hi i really loved the relapse drabble w rhys x reader, do you think i could request a part 2 where he meets her friends who helped her relapse, maybe reader is scared of them bc they peer pressure and manipulate her all the time, and rhys sees through them and they get punished🖤🙏

relapse (part two)

(part one)

Rhys x f!Reader

Warnings: discussions of addiction/drug abuse, peer pressure, not proofread

A/N: this kind of deviated a bit, but thank you for requesting it!

“Are you sure about this?” Rhys asked again, for the thousandth time. Your old friends had invited you to hang out, and you wanted to prove to yourself that you could do it - you could resist and hang out with them again. Maybe it was a sick and unnecessary form of redemption you wanted for yourself, but the urge to stand up to them, to say no, and firmly, stuck with you. Even if you were terrified.

“I’m certain.” You assured him. His eyes scanned your features, looking to be certain you’re honest.

“I’ll check in with you,” he promised, and you leant up on your toes, pressing a small kiss to his cheek before darting out the door. You couldn’t give yourself any more chances to change your mind. You heard his chuckle as you left, and turned over your shoulder to see him leaning against the doorframe, watching you head out. You could tell he was still sore because you refused his offer to winnow you. It’s the middle of the day, in spring in Velaris. A low risk of freezing, and the walk would help you get your head set on straight.

“Be strong. I love you.” His voice, soothing and smooth, ran through your mind.

“I will,” you had no other choice.

Rhys noticed you seemed a bit off after returning, but nothing was wrong with your scent and he believed you when you said you hadn’t taken anything. Still, something about you was … cowed, and terrified.

“What did they do?” He fought to keep his voice even and tamp down the anger.

“They offered,” you admitted. He gave a slow nod, he’d expected that.

“I’m proud of you,” he tugged you back into his arms. You melted against him, and he ran gentle strokes down your spine, “but what else?”

You sighed. “They weren’t very kind about it.”

“Show me,” he leaned back, prodding against your mental barriers. Your teeth tugged at your bottom lip, but you lowered them enough to let him in.

His anger was palpable, and you were grateful it wasn’t directed at you. The fear you felt, from returning, was at how aggressive and antagonistic they’d been. One of your friends went so far as to say they’d just give you a brownie without telling you. They meant it as a joke, hopefully. Addiction was still something you actively fought every day, and the fact that someone you once considered a friend would even joke about drugging you, doing that against your will - the mere idea of returning back to that state, the shell of a person you’d been before, filled you with terror.

Still, you didn’t want anything to happen to them - and the kind of anger coming from Rhys now promised vengeance.

“Don’t, don’t do anything to them.” You tried to keep your voice firm, tried to make it a demand.

“Anyone who made you suffer deserves the consequences headed to them.” The threat and brutal words were said with such casual elegance it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Rhys,” you pleaded.

He raised one brow, “you won’t change my mind.”

Spoken into your mind, the words felt firmer, more final. He’s right, if there’s something he’s set his mind to there’s little you could do to change it.

#rhys x y/n #rhys x reader #rhysand x y/n #rhysand x reader #acotar x reader #acotar drabble #acotar imagine

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kittyball23 · 1 year ago

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Effort (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: Viva knows what she is about to do is risky, but she just HAS to make the effort, if it means seeing them again…

A/N: Taking place before TBT; Viva did mention that she thought many times about leaving, so this was one of those times (also, incoming Cliva 💚💛)

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Night had fallen upon Putt Putt Village.

Per the usual proceedings in the town, nightfall meant the curfew was up and enforced. No Troll, young or old, was allowed to be out and about once the sun set. It was sensible, common knowledge, really. For nightfall was a time in which dangerous creatures would lurk about, hidden by the shadows, watching, waiting, listening intently for any unlucky soul who may sweep along their path and end up falling prey to their malicious whims. And no Troll wanted to take that chance when those dangerous creatures were… Bergens.

Even in thought, the awful word sent a shudder down the Putt Putters' spines, and made a scream just barely hold back within their throats. For good reason, too. Nobody wanted to be caught and eaten, suffering an awful fate having their bones crunched underneath the monsters' teeth, and their hopes flushed away in the similar manner that they would be once they were passed from the hideous creature's stomach. In short, the curfew was critical, and thankfully, every Troll was well aware of it. Especially Viva, Putt Putt Village's Queen herself. It would be impossible for her not to know the rule, given that she herself had been the one to write it. She knew curfew meant getting indoors, locking the windows and doors tight and turning the lights out. She knew it meant no one was to go wandering around the village, and definitely not without a chaperone. She knew it meant letting anything extracurricular be saved for the following day, and that safety was the highest priority. So, she also knew that she was breaking the very rule she made.

The Putt Putt Queen had impressively mastered the art of stealth, tucking herself with her hair to camouflage as one of the golf balls. She was silent but fast, swerving her way through the main square, past her people's varying residences, and farther still from the settlement. It was only when she had reached the town’s borders in which she finally came to a stop, unrolling herself and standing to her full height (made even taller-looking with the great stack of wild, golden hair atop her head). Viva beheld the gate that was there, sturdy and firmly in place. It would be crazy to unlatch the padlock that kept it closed, separating the harsh, cruel dark world that lay beyond from their sanctuary. Viva took a deep breath. Well then… call me crazy! Viva leapt up to the lock, undoing it with ease, and hopped back down to the ground. She let out a breath and smiled to herself. Whew! Easy peasy!

Next, the Queen grabbed the edge of the gate and tugged. It was rusty and old, as Putt Putt Village had not been inhabited by its original Bergen residents for ages, and gave an unpleasant crrreeeaaak as she pried it open. The sound didn't last long though. Viva didn't need to open the gate all that much, since Trolls were not too big. She could easily slide by the crack of space she'd made. Viva gave herself a quiet little high-five. Yes! Nailed it! Now, it was time for the most critical step in her plan.

Viva, feeling optimistic, readied herself to step forward, lifting one warmered leg up high and putting on a face of pure determination. Yes! she thought to herself, feeling giddy. Why, with what awaited her at the end of this, she wouldn't even need to give herself a high-five or a thumbs up. And just thinking about it made her heart soar!

Alrighty, here we go!

Viva chinned up. Here she went, bravely into the outside world, full of unknown threats, full of malice and evil, and wrought with towering creatures who'd caused her to be left in this predicament in the first place. There she went anyway, leaving her people behind, leaving her one home in which nothing bad had happened to her, leaving her sanctuary, her place of protection to go off somewhere where she wouldn’t be protected, where she'd be vulnerable, where she could be captured and eaten alive at any given moment and without warning.

Yes… here I go!

Her foot went down, but she was stunned to find that instead of propelling her forward, she had taken a step backwards. Actually, more like ten steps backwards, on wobbly legs that were trembling violently alongside the rest of her body. She'd hardly noticed, however. Her focus was fixated on the world beyond the gate, and Viva was unable to turn away. It was dark and dank, full of forest and mystery and things that she could in truth care less to know about. A black hole ready to devour her…

NO!

Viva shook her head, battling her nerve-wracking thoughts with persistence. She did want to know about that world, if it meant finding them. And the Putt Putt Queen would be darned if she, trained in battle and quick-witted, wouldn't be able to set her worries aside and finish what she'd started.

It's just one night, she assured herself. It won't take me long. I'm sure it's not THAT far. It only seemed far because I was little. But I'm NOT little anymore. I'm a grown woman! And I'm GONNA do this! I have to… She's out there, not in here, where it's safe. She's out THERE where it's… it's…

Despite the words being in her head, she still failed to get them out, as though the physical constricting of her throat was preventing it. A loud sound filled her ears, rhythmic, and it was incredulously difficult for her to tell whether it was the pounding of her own heart, or the horrible, ominous footsteps of a Bergen coming right towards her, licking its chops in anticipation of tasting pink Troll flesh. Or perhaps it already got a taste of pink Troll flesh.

Beads of sweat formed upon the Putt Putt Queen’s forehead. She can't be dead. She CAN'T! Viva refused to believe it. It was NOT so! And she was going to prove it, if it was the last thing she did! She willed her body to relax, her feet to move forward, her knees to bend… but it didn't work. Her mind was stuck, paralyzed, unable to comply with any of the commands she issued to her body. The sounds grew louder, more pronounced, more frightening. Viva felt her breathing get shallow. Her head began to spin, the dark visions around her a blur. Her eyes were fixed firmly on the gate. She needed to get out. NOW!

I can do this! I can do this! I can -

"Viva!"

A voice rang out across the night air, making Viva jerk her whole body. Her eyes snapped wide, a gasp escaping her lips, and a horrid vision of the way the dirt and rock had collapsed in front of her - blocking her off from the father and sister she longed to see again - flashing before her eyes. And she couldn't take anymore.

Her legs buckled under her and her vision went black.

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Clay wrung out the cold towelette in his hands, water droplets dripping into the sink with a few silent plinks. Silently he moved through his dwelling, past rooms filled with stacks of pending paperwork and beelining it to the couch. Pity filled him at the golden-curled Troll who was strewn there, limp, nearly looking lifeless.

He prevented himself from shuddering. It was something frightening to see her like this. Putt Putt Village’s Queen had never looked so weakened as she did at that moment. The pink in her skin was pale in its hue, her mouth slightly slack. Carefully he bent down next to her, brushing away some of the strands from her face so that he could properly apply the compress to her forehead, previously warm with sweat.

Viva knows better, Clay thought. So what was she doing out there?

As though it were in reply, his eye suddenly caught sight of something peeking out among Viva's wild hair. He raised an eyebrow and, in curiosity, pulled it out. Turned out it was a scrapbook, only a few pages long. The front of it depicted Viva, notable for her pink skin and golden hair. The other two figurines were another pink Troll who looked quite similar to her, only with dark, magenta hair. The other was an orange Troll with the same dark magenta hair. He flipped through a couple of pages, and suddenly understood once he saw the trio depicted doing all sorts of activities, from bad dances to candy necklaces.

This is her family...

She'd told him once, hurriedly, of the events that took place that Trollstice. The escape that divided her from the rest of the group, from her father and her sister, and had turned Putt Putt Village into what it was today - a town of survivors who lived in seclusion, away from the threats of those dreadful Bergens.

Clay shook his head and shut the book. On one hand, her act was foolish. Why would she, Queen of their town, do such a risky thing and leave them high and dry, putting herself in the path of danger at the same time? On the other hand...

At least she's making an effort.

He couldn’t say the same for himself.

It’d been years since he’d seen his brothers, and thus far he’d been content in not having them be a part of his daily life. But still, he couldn’t help but wonder…

How big IS Baby Branch? His youngest bro probably wouldn’t even be recognizable at this point.

Did Floyd get his solo career kicking? Even before the band had broken up, he could remember the magenta-haired Troll longing to compose his own music one day.

What’s going on with Spruce? He wished he knew. Spruce wasn’t just a brother, but a close friend, and he only hoped that wherever he was that he was doing well.

And then there’s John Dory… Clay frowned. Did he really care about him? I mean, he can’t STILL be the same old ‘perfect-perfect-perfect’ionist that he was back then… could he? Years had changed Clay from being the Fun Boy of the group.

But before he could reason whether or not his oldest brother had changed, he suddenly heard stirring beside him. Viva twitched, her expression contorting to one of worry, her eyebrows furrowing.

“No… no, no!” she began exclaiming in her unconsciousness, her limbs coming to life and starting to thrash. “Dad, I’m still here! Please don’t leave me!”

Clay winced, alarmed, “Hey now! Easy, Veevs!" he tried calling at her.

But Viva continued to writhe.

"Don't LEAVE ME!"

"Viva, wake up!”

He grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a rough shake. The Putt Putt Queen's eyes flew open, and she let out a startled cry.

"Viva!" Clay said loudly, "It's okay! You're alright! There's nothing to be afraid of."

For a moment, she was bewildered, not really looking at him. He could tell she was still lost in whatever she'd seen in her nightmare. But then...

"Oh, Clay!" She burst into tears, shooting her arms around his neck and squeezing him tight against her. Clay froze in his spot for a moment, shocked. Viva wasn't like this at all. This was not the chipper, happy go-lucky girl he'd befriended and saw on a day-to-day basis, the one who lived right up to her vivacious namesake. This was a broken Troll, one who was trying desperately hard to put the pain of the past behind her but couldn't, and was crying hysterically because of it. Clay's heart broke just listening to her sobs.

Gently he returned her embrace, rubbing his hand up and down her back and trying his best to soothe her. "It's all right, girl. Nothing to be afraid of. You're still here. I'm still here. We're good, yeah? Everything's fine, you're safe." His voice wavered at the end, betraying the depth of his emotions. He didn’t want to show Viva the extent of his feelings towards her. This was not the right moment.

Still sniffling, her head buried in the crook of his neck, Viva nodded slowly. Slowly, her sobs calmed into hiccupy sniffles, until they finally began to die out. It took a while, but Viva eventually leaned back, wiped her cheeks, the makeup around her eyes slightly smeared, and her breaths ragged. Reddened eyes looked into his ocean blue.

"I'm sorry, Clay," she whispered.

Shaking his head, Clay replied softly. "Nah, no need to apologize. Bad dream, right? We all get 'em."

Viva didn't respond. She was looking down, thinking. "You'll never leave me, right? I-I mean... Putt Putt Village," she amended, hiding a blush, and glancing back up at him hesitantly.

Clay didn't know how much that question would affect him until he really started to consider the answer. That was a big promise. How was he to know what would happen in the future? No, he didn't exactly foresee leaving the village... but at the same time, who knew what curveballs life would bring? He could certainly say that if his teen-self had been told he’d become one of the leaders of a clan of survivalists, he probably wouldn’t have believed it. But for now...

"Hey, you can't co-run a place without the 'co' part of it now, can you?" he joked. He reached over and tapped his elbow with her, making her giggle.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Realizing she was still clutching him close, Viva blushed and quickly released him, sitting up on the couch and rubbing her arm shyly. She peered around suddenly, with a curious look. Clay watched her, a little confused, until he realized that she had had yet to enter his home. "Oh, wow... so this is where you live?" she asked.

He nodded. “Yeah. Didn’t think anyone else would want the admin building, so kinda claimed it. It’s not so bad for me, but… I’m sure it’s kinda boring for others.”

Viva was still looking around as he was talking, taking everything in. The place was much bigger than it looked from the outside. The stony gray walls, the muted green carpet, the dull color scheme. No pictures. Hardly any furniture aside from the couch, a table, and a desk stacked with bills and other finances. It suddenly hit Clay just how very plain and sparsely decorated it all was.

“Okay, not kinda boring… too boring,” Clay took it upon himself to correct.

“No,” Viva said, putting a hand up. “I like it.” She looked around again as if to be sure, and grinned. “Yeah… I really do! Seems like you got it all down-packed and organized, dont’cha?”

Clay shrugged. “Well, yeah I guess…”

“Not like me, that’s for sure. I have candy stashed all over my home. Half the time I can’t even remember where I hid it!” Viva giggled. But then she stopped. Thinking of her home brought another thought in mind. She hated to feel imposing, but the thought of going back out, even if it was just in their village, was making that pit in her stomach return. “Hey, um, Clay? Would it be, um, okay if I… stayed here? Just for tonight? I just, I…” Her hands began to shake and tears pooled in her eyes. This was a silly thing. Clay had other business to attend to than to be dealing with her and her petty fears. This was ridiculous!

But to Clay, it wasn’t. “Make yourself at home,” he said without hesitation. She needed the sense of safety, and if sleeping over for one night was what it would take to get her back to feeling like herself, then so be it. “You can take my bed if you want… without me in it, of course,” Clay said, fumbling in his words. “O-or you can take the couch, but, I know it’s not the most comfortable, so, um… but it’s whatever you wanna do! Whatever makes ya clever,” he finished, trying to sound cool but feeling embarrassed by his babbling.

To his relief, Viva smiled back at him, charmed by his sweet offer. “Thank you,” she said gratefully, standing up and stretching her legs.

“Uh, yep, of course,” he agreed awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck, and trying not to let her gorgeous smile get to him too much.

"Hey," she said, taking out a string from her hair with one hand and some candy beads with the other. "Wanna make some necklaces in the meantime?" She shook them out at him and grinned slyly. "Or do you want me to braid your hair?"

Clay chuckled and took the first option, sidling up next to her. "Candy necklaces will be good.”

#trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #cliva #clay trolls #viva trolls #dreamworks #fanfiction #kittyball writes #brodacious fanfiction

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countrymusiclover · 28 days ago

Text

2 - Prisoners of Sky People

Part 3

Star Crossed Enemies

Tag list ( send ask to be added ) @severa-kane @100foreverfiles @ocappreciation @ocappreciationtag @arrthurpendragon @lover-of-books-and-tea @kmc1989 @caprisunzz

The moment I began to regain consciousness I felt a lot of pain. Blinking my eyes open I instantly shut them seeing bright lights shining above my head. Finally peeking one eye open I got adjusted to the brightness enough where I attempted to move forward seeing I was inside a large metal dropship compared to the one I came down in two years ago.

Unfortunately the second I went to take a step forward my body was yanked backwards rather harshly making me nearly scream till I bit my lip. “Agh! - smart play using zip ties.” Eyeing my wrists and ankles were held down on metal poles.

Shifting my gaze around the room I didn’t see many shortcuts to escape. The hatch in the floor was shut and there were zero sharp objects I could use to snap my restraints so I was a sitting duck. My pack and weapons were laying on the opposite side of the room beside a makeshift chair. “We’re smarter than you people think we are, grounder girl.”

“Bellamy.” I muttered barely above a whisper not hearing the metal hatch open and close before I noticed the boy with curly hair sitting a few feet away from me on the makeshift chair.

He pushed himself up to stand , coming to stand directly in front of me. “You’re friend downstairs isn’t much for talking. So I’m hoping you will be up to having a conversation with me. What’s your name?”

“Cassio.” I simply replied preferring to be called by a nickname Glass gave me then my full birth name the Ark had given me. “Yours is Bellamy, right?”

He sent me a slight glare. “You were listening in on our conversations weren’t you. What did you find out about us hmm?”

“That they sent you down here like lab rats to die. You may look at us like we’re the enemy who wants to kill you but you should consider the ones who put you all on this ship and dumped you down here just to save the place you came from. Doesn’t sound like you’re leaders care too much about anyone but themselves.”

Bellamy lifted his head silently biting his lips as he took in the girls words before himself. In the few weeks they had been there he had declared the same philosophy to get the majority to remove their wristbands.

There was something about the way she said the words with such anger that he began contemplating if she was from the Ark or not, but he instantly pushed the crazy thought to the back of his mind.

“How many of you are there?” Bellamy asked me.

“12 different clans with over thousands upon thousands of grounders and only about 80 of you now. Is my math right?” I tilted my head to the side smirking until I heard a girls voice shouting from downstairs even though the metal hatch was shut.

“This is Raven Reyes. I- I'm from Mecha Station. I'm transmitting from the ground. The hundred are alive. Please, you need to get Doctor Abby Griffin. Doctor Abby Griffin. Now!”

My whole body stiffened up when I heard someone say her name. It had been a long time since I’d heard my mothers name. It sickened me to my stomach.

All that hate and pain coming back to the surface.

Bellamy saw my facial expression completely change. From where he was standing I appeared very pale and like I had seen or rather heard the name of a ghost. “You know someone down there don’t you, grounder girl?”

“N - no I don’t.” I did the best lie I could.

Yet it was like he could see right through my facade now where he stomped over yanking me up from the ground. He firmly held me by my forearm with my hands still tied behind my back by zip ties. “You’re lying and I’m going to find out why soon enough. Come on, let’s get your ass down there.” He pushed me down the ladder where I landed harshly on the harsh metal floor with half the group's attention on the radio and some of the others looking at me.

My mothers voice brought tears to my eyes that I couldn’t hide. “Raven? Are you there?”

Shifting my gaze over to the girl that was standing next to the one manning the radio it wasn’t difficult at all for me to recognize who it was. “Mom? Mom it's me.” The familiar figure of long blonde hair that belongs to my sister spoke towards our mother, even though she didn’t know I was her sister.

“Clarke?” Our mother asked with such relief in her tone over the radio static.

Our mother made sure of that with all the lies she spewed out over the years.

“Bellamy! What the hell are you doing to her? She could’ve been severely injured.” Clarke, my sister whipped her head around dropping down on her knees searching me over for any injuries.

He jumped down the last two ladder steps coming over to the two of us. He lifted me up from the floor dragging me by my blonde hair making me wince. “Gah! Bellam - no, no, no. I don’t want to!” He pushed my head down on the table beside the radio.

“Clarke, what was that commotion?” My mother questioned through the device causing me to whimper, clutching my eyes tightly shut, hating that I am showing emotions around members of the people I hate.

Clarke came up behind Bellamy who was holding me down with all eyes focused on the three of us. “Bellamy, this is not who we are. This grounder didn’t kidnap Octavia or kill any of our people.”

“That isn’t what this is about. She knows you’re mothers voice and I want to know why.” He barked back at her.

My sister made a confused face. “You think she’s originally from the Ark. How is that even possible?”

“Yo curly haired dude.” I finally spoke, raising my voice to get his attention.

He lowered his head down where our noses could almost touch if either of us moved forward towards the other. “You wanna tell us who you really are now?”

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know just not how I know the doctor on the radio.”

Bellamy yanked me upward and pushed me up the ladder then he pushed me down in the corner beside my friend who was beaten badly. “Lincoln…”

“Which one? Which one is it? If you tell us, they'll stop.” My sister begged my friend who was tied to the wall with chains. Bellamy had been repeatedly beating him with a seatbelt strap until she got down on her knees and begged my friend. “Please tell us which is the antidote and they'll stop this.”

Bellamy tossed the strap on the floor turning on his heels grabbing me up to stand. “If that doesn't work, maybe this will.”

“Bellamy, don’t hurt her.” Octavia his sister begged him before he picked up the poisoned knife in his freehand, dragging me directly to stand in front of my friend.

He suddenly made me cut whatever I was about to say short once I felt the cold blade pressed against my neck drawing some blood. “Bellamy, he won’t-“

“You’re friend won’t let you die. He’ll have no choice but to tell us the antidote to save your life and Finn’s.” Bellamy growled in my ear speaking towards my sister in a softer voice. “Clarke, you don't have to be here for this.”

Unfortunately I knew my sister wouldn’t back down from saving someone. She was exactly like our mother. “I'm not leaving until I get that antidote.”

“No more!” Octavia shouted, pushing me out of her brother’s tight grasp before he could cut my throat.

I collapsed against the nearest wall behind me. Pressing my body against it as much as I could not expect her to react in that way for someone she didn’t even know. Holding a hand to the small wound on my neck as best I could manage I didn’t utter another word.

Bellamy raised his voice. “Octavia what the hell are you doing?”

“He won’t let me die.” She muttered looking at Lincoln who nodded his head at the last vial that she had shown him.

Clarke takes the vial from the girl rushing down the ladder. “Thank you.”

Bellamy tried to help his sister up from the floor but she smacked his hand away. He slowly shifted his dark brown eyes over in my direction where I sucked in a breath unsure of what he would attempt to do to me next. He bent himself down on one knee brushing some of my messy hair out of my face. “What are you going to do with me now, sky boy?”

“We’re keeping you both here in our camp. Your friend will be here as leverage and we’ll use you to gather as much information as we can. And I know you’ll do it because if you don’t I’ll start hurting your friend. Do you understand that?”

I gulped nervously before he climbed down the ladder and shut it leaving me upstairs with Lincoln chained to the wall. “I understand, sir.”

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elisajdb · 4 months ago

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First Kiss

“Dad, when did you know Mom was the one?”

It was very rare for Gohan to approach Goku on a serious matter. Fighting to save the world, Gohan came to him. Matters of the heart, Gohan always went to Chi-Chi. She was the expert on the matter. She helped Gohan talk to Videl and point out signals sent by Videl that went over his head. She gave him suggestions for dates. She told him how a gentleman behaved.

Goku never expected Gohan to come to him but given the subject, he was the only one who could answer Gohan’s question. “Why?” The simple question brought a blush to Gohan’s face. “Does it have something to do with Videl?” Goku wanted to help Gohan with anything he needed but not being an expert on romance or women, he didn’t think he could help Gohan. “I wanna help ya, but Mom…”

“No, Dad.” Gohan stopped Goku from saying anymore. “I need you. Mom can’t help me with this.”

Goku could tell Gohan was struggling. He spoke firmly but looked nervous and unsure. If he knew Chi-Chi would give him the answer he needed, Gohan would go to her but as he looked at his eldest son, Goku realized this was one of those father and son things Chi-Chi told him he would have with Gohan but Goku still had doubts because he wasn’t the typical father.

He didn’t have first dates or jitters around girls like Gohan. He didn’t struggle with making friends or fitting in like Gohan. Gohan’s physical development into his teens occurred without him. Those first experiences when a boy needed his father as a guide happened when he was dead.

Goku regretted that when he returned. It moved him now to be there for Gohan and give him the answer he needed but he wasn’t sure if he could. “My experiences aren’t the same as you, Gohan. I married Chi-Chi not long after I was reminded of our promise.”

“I know but you never do what you don’t want, Dad, and if in any way you felt marrying Mom was wrong, you wouldn’t have done it.”

That was true. Goku always followed his instincts. Even if he made the promise, Goku would’ve gotten out of it if he wanted. He didn’t because he didn’t want to marry Chi-Chi. “Yeah. I knew Chi-Chi was the one when we had our first kiss.”

****

Kissing was a new experience for Goku but not foreign to his mind. He saw his first kiss on a TV program Master Roshi watched. He didn’t understand and asked his teacher why two adults touched that way.

Something you will enjoy when you’re older.

That’s all his teacher said so Goku ignored the concept of kissing. He read it in his books during his daily lessons but Goku didn’t focus and thought of it as words on a page and read it to get through his lessons for the day.

His second introduction to kissing came on a whim. It was during his training for the 22nd Tenkaichi Budokai. The world was his training ground. Goku arrived in a village during a holiday. He didn’t know why people were celebrating but they looked happy and enjoyed being around each other. Though he didn’t mind being alone, loneliness crept into Goku sometimes, and when it did, he desired to be around others.

Maybe that’s why I latched onto them.

Them were Silas and Celia. Goku met Silas in the forest outside the village when he hunted for his dinner. Silas didn’t think it was right for a boy to hunt his food and invited Goku into his home with his wife, Celia. Goku was initially wary of Celia. The only other adult women he had been around were Bulma and Lunch. He liked them but sometimes they were loud and volatile, especially Lunch. Every other day he dodged bullets from her. He expected the same attitude from Celia but she was kind and doting to Goku and Silas.

Silas and Celia were different from the couples he read about in books and the ones he watched on TV except for one factor. They all kissed. When he initially read about kissing, Goku didn’t care. He wasn’t interested. He still wasn’t but three years older and seeing more of it from Silas and Celia, curiosity sparked in Goku.

One morning, Goku left with Silas to gather firewood. Silas kissed Celia goodbye. It sparked Goku to ask, “Why do you do that?”

“Do what, Goku?”

“Touch Celia’s lips like that.”

“You mean kiss? It’s something couples do. It can be a hello or goodbye. It’s a way to say ‘I love you’ or ‘I miss you.’ It has different meanings, Goku, and when you meet someone you want to kiss like I have in my Celia, you’ll understand and you’ll have fun with it, too.”

Goku didn’t understand what could be fun with kissing. It wasn’t eating. It wasn’t fighting a strong opponent. He didn’t dwell on it; didn’t wonder who he will kiss. He forgot about it until three years later when Chi-Chi, daughter of the great Ox King Gyumao pressed her lips to his cheeks at the Tenkaichi Budokai.

And turned his life upside down.

From the moment she tapped his shoulder, Goku was entranced with her. He stared with his friends curious of the girl who addressed him. His not knowing her, angered her. Goku angered many people and always brushed it off but this time, it intrigued him. Why was she mad at him? Who was she? He knew they crossed paths but he didn’t know when or where. He watched her matches. He could beat her but he was impressed with her skills. He was excited when they were paired against each other. He was even more excited when their match began. He blocked and dodged every attack from her. She kept up with him as he ran around the ring. When he leapt in the air for a breather, she followed. It excited him! He could beat her but his blood pounded in his veins as if she were a strong opponent. Mentally, she stimulated him. Physically, she kept him on her toes. He didn’t want to fight her. He wanted to know who she was. She gave him the chance when offering her name if he beat her.

Creating air with a punch, Goku knocked her out of the ring. In his excitement, he put too much into it but he got her name.

Chi-Chi, daughter of Gyumao, the Ox King.

Ah, he remembered. She pulled his tail when they were children. She flew with him on Nimbus. Strange girl but she had a pure heart like him. When she reminded him of his promise to marry her, Goku honored his word. Oh, he could’ve gotten out of it and say he didn’t know, he didn’t understand but he didn’t. If marriage meant living with someone, he didn’t mind living with Chi-Chi. She could ride Nimbus. That meant she was a good person. Her feistiness excited him. That meant life will be fun with her but Chi-Chi waiting for him intrigued him the most.

They didn’t know each other long but in that short time as children, Chi-Chi knew she wanted to live with him for the rest of her life. Goku hadn’t met anyone to accept him like that since his Grandpa.

It was easy to honor his promise.

When he did, Chi-Chi told him she loved him. It was a word he heard but didn’t understand. Chi-Chi showed him what love means by pressing her lips to his cheek.

A kiss.

Something you will enjoy when you’re older.

It has different meanings, Goku, and when you meet someone you want to kiss like I have in my Celia, you’ll understand and you’ll have fun with it, too.

Chi-Chi’s lips were soft and warm against his skin. It was brief but the warmth lingered and spread across his face and down to his stomach. What was that feeling? Was this what Master Roshi and Silas meant?

His impending fights drove Goku from getting his questions answered but Chi-Chi’s lips on his cheek lingered and affected Goku through his matches.

His speed tornado was an unusual flex for him. He only needed to remove his weights and stretch but with Chi-Chi watching, Goku had a desire to impress his bride. He punched and kicked the air as if fighting an imaginary opponent to show off his martial arts skills. He ran around the ring with speed faster than human eyes and became a human tornado. The crowd was wowed. Chi-Chi, he saw from the corner of his eyes, smiled with her hands clapped together in awe.

He knew she liked that.

Goku wanted to impress again with Piccolo. He showed off some, feigning injury when he wasn’t hurt to show Piccolo wasn’t a threat to him. He unleashed his Super Kamehameha Wave to show the power he consumed. Piccolo almost had him at one point, but he prevailed as the victor and Chi-Chi was all over him. Goku thought he would get another kiss but Chi-Chi hugged him. Hugs weren’t foreign but the way Chi-Chi pressed her body against his, that unusual feeling returned. His body felt funny with Chi-Chi’s bumps pressing on him. It was stronger than the feeling of a kiss he panicked and told Chi-Chi to not hold him like this in front of everyone.

She honored his word until they were alone that night.

On the balcony of Gyumao’s castle. Preparations were underway for Goku and Chi-Chi’s wedding. It was a whirlwind of activities of Chi-Chi introducing Goku to her father again; getting her mother’s wedding dress cleaned, getting Goku fitted for a suit and dancing lessons. Hours after Goku was declared the Strongest Under the Heavens, under twinkling stars on a warm Spring night Goku found solace on the balcony of his room. He looked down at the courtyard where he spotted many servants working on decorations for his wedding.

It was a lot for Goku to see people he didn’t know decorating the courtyard, decorating the castle, fitting him for a suit and working on a wedding menu. He agreed to live with Chi-Chi forever but he didn’t understand the need for a party or ceremony where had to dress up. He gave his word. He came back to honor it. Why isn’t that enough? He didn’t understand why so much work was going into something for him and Chi-Chi. Goku didn’t think he deserved all of this. Maybe Chi-Chi. Her Pops was famous and she grew up in this kingdom but he wasn’t anyone special.

Goku thought of his friends telling him he should back out of the wedding until he is sure he knows what he is doing.

“Too late for that now,” Goku thought. He wasn’t going to back out. He wanted to marry Chi-Chi but with all the preparations, Goku did wonder if knew what he was doing.

“Goku?” Goku turned to see Chi-Chi coming into the room. “Sorry. I knocked but you didn’t answer. It’s a big room,” she said sheepishly as she came onto the balcony. “Kind of hard to hear a knock.” She stood by him and looked where he looked; servants building a pavilion. “They’re working fast.” She didn’t sound as happy and excited as she was earlier. Chi-Chi spoke subdued and nervous. Shouldn’t she be happy? This is what she wanted. “Is it weird I’m nervous about the wedding?”

Nervous? Goku thought only he should be. “You reminded me of our promise. Why are you nervous?”

Chi-Chi shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s something I wanted and now it’s finally here, I’m scared. In a few days, I won’t be Gyumao’s daughter. I’ll be Son Goku’s wife. It’s a big responsibility.”

“It is?” Goku wished someone told him that.

“Being a wife and mother is a huge responsibility, Goku. It’s my duty to care for you, and love you and our children. I hope I can be successful at that. I didn’t grow up with a mother so I’m going at this blind.”

“What about me?” Goku felt more in the dark than Chi-Chi. “Do I have any responsibilities?”

“You’re already good at that, Goku. A husband protects. You’re strong and saved everyone from Piccolo. I know you’ll protect me and our children. A husband provides. You are already on a good start winning the money at the tournament.” Chi-Chi looked away from him frustrated. “I have to prove myself. I have to cook good food that you and our children will love. I have to make sure our family grows up in a healthy and happy home.”

“Sounds like a lot to deal with.” But Goku saw the bright spot that Chi-Chi didn’t. “You knowing all of this makes me think you’ll be a good wife and mother. I don’t know anything.” I’m trusting you he wanted to say but didn’t.

“Knowing doesn’t mean I’ll be good at it.”

“You told me you don’t know a lot about kissing but I think you’re at it.”

Chi-Chi looked back at him. It wasn’t possible but Goku thought Chi-Chi’s eyes sparkled. “You think I’m a good kisser?”

“Well….” The sweet gaze sent from Chi-Chi tied his tongue. Suddenly, he felt hot and nervous but he told the truth. “It was good to me but it was only on the cheek.”

“You…..” Chi-Chi sounded breathless yet hopeful, “wanna try a kiss on the lips?”

The tightness in his chest returned. It was a funny feeling but he liked it. “You said we have to at the wedding. We should practice.”

“Practice.” Chi-Chi smiled at him but it wasn’t like the smiles she gave him today. This one was sly, playful as if knowing he didn’t want to kiss to practice for the wedding. “Okay, Goku, we can practice.”

It wasn’t the promise of the kiss but Chi-Chi seeing through him that stood out. She was special. She didn’t know him as long as his friends knew him but easily saw through his innocent façade. She saw what his friends couldn’t see.

He smiled. His friends’ worries melted from his mind. I don’t know anything about marriage or my duties but I know I am doing it with the right person.

Goku let Chi-Chi guide him with her soft hands touching his face. She gently pulled him down as she stood on her toes to touch her lips to hers. The sensation against his lips was similar to what he felt on his cheek but more pleasurable, pleasant and sanctifying Chi-Chi was indeed the one.

#goku #chichi #gochi #dragonball #dragonball z #fanfiction #gohan

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nightlyrequiem · 3 months ago

Text

The Other Side of Paradise

11) Bye Bye Baby Blue

Cross posted from AO3

Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch.5, Ch.6, Ch.7, Ch.8, Ch.9, Ch.10, Ch.11

You try to make the best of your life working at a small bakery in a city with rising cartel violence. One slower day, a man starts harassing your coworker. Despite the obvious threat, you stand up to him anyway. Unbeknownst to you, Valeria just so happened to be there to witness it.

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Dual POV, Happy Ending, Plot with Porn, Graphic Violence, Inappropriate Use of a Knife, Masturbation, WLW

Valeria didn't come over the next night. Going off of previous behaviors you just assumed she went right back to ignoring you. You resentfully ignored her back. By not sending her any messages. That will show her. It wasn't until a few weeks had gone by when whispers of a certain individual began to be passed around mouth to mouth. El Sin Nombre was caught. El Sin Nombre is a woman. El Sin Nombre is Valeria. You felt ill the first time you heard it. That couldn't be true. You broke your no contact rule. Sending her texts and calling and all went unanswered. You obsessively scoured the internet and found many articles that confirmed your fears.

You weren't sure what to do with the information. You were hurt, angry, surprised. You almost shacked up with a drug baroness. She's done awful things. Awful maybe being an understatement. You search and search for more details, but each article is just parroting the last; telling you what you already know. 'Valeria Garza, thirty-eight-year-old ex-special forces member arrested for drug trafficking.' Among other things like her leading the cartel and her suspected involvement in a recent Chicago terrorist attack.

Even after months pass, giving the news time to be digested and eventually forgotten, no one seems to. Valeria is all everyone seems to be talking about. It makes sense, you suppose. The big faceless, nameless entity that had been terrorizing Las Almas was finally revealed. You wish they'd stop talking about it. It only keeps the wound from healing. She was kind to you. She was interested. What does that say about your character? She might not have even meant any of it, and that thought makes you feel worse. You go through the days on autopilot. She gave you a taste for companionship and then ripped it away from you. You feel lonelier than ever.

On the bright side, while you're walking home you don't see any bodies. Or armed men. The atmosphere is stagnant instead of humming with never-ending anxiety. Which is why you startle at the sight of two men standing by the stairs to your apartment, one is bald and the other has a beard. They have a certain look about them. One that raises the fine hairs on the back of your neck. You continue to approach even though your gut tells you not to. That feeling only doubles when they turn and stare at you. You grab the metal railing and start ascending. Pretending you aren't frightened by them.

One of them says your name. You pause and contemplate rushing the last few steps into the perceived safety of your home. They could very easily break down the door though and that might just serve to piss them off. You turn slowly and look down at them.

"... Yeah?" You reply quietly. Sensitive to any change in expression or body language.

"She wants to see you." You don't need to ask who. "She sent us to retrieve you." Retrieve you. Like you're one of the drug parcels she used to smuggle.

"She's in prison though." You say unsurely. She's supposed to be in prison. She didn't break out, did she? If she did, you're positive it would've been all over the news.

"She's allowed visitors." He replies roughly. The one beside him just stares. You want to blow on his eyes to make him blink.

Who in their right mind is allowing her visitors? That seems incredibly irresponsible.

"No." You say firmly. You expect them to put up a fight. To force you. Instead, they just turn and leave. Walking off behind the building. You watch them nervously before scurrying inside and shutting the door behind you. Part of you feels pleased that she's making an effort to contact you, and the other part is disgusted by it. She's a horrible human being and you shouldn't want anything to do with her but the moments you shared continue to haunt your thoughts.

The men are back next week. You're a little less frightened since they didn't do anything last time, but you aren't any less wary. As you approach, the bald one reaches into his pocket and you almost keel over and die from heart failure. Instead of pulling out a knife or glock he pulls out an envelope and extends a burly arm. You shakily take it, still recovering from the momentary fright. They leave without another word. You go inside and sit down against the door. Holding the clean white paper in your hands. You tear it open and pull out the letter inside.

I regret you had to find out this way. I know you're feeling afraid and betrayed but know that regardless of how I earned my money or conducted business that I care about you. I don't want what came out into the light to affect your image of me. The news rarely gets the facts right. You'd understand if you got to hear my side of the story. I urge you to come and visit me so we can talk things out like adults. I miss you.

It's short and unsigned but it doesn't need a signature. You feel a flash of anger. How dare she claim to know what you feel? She didn't even apologize. You don't have any interest in hearing her out.

The letter feels condescending. She's severely downplaying the situation. She doesn't seem to grasp the ramifications of being caught for being a fucking drug lord. The biggest in the country. You doubt any amount of talking will fix anything and even if it could, she is defiantly never seeing the light of day ever again. If capital punishment were legal, she'd be sitting in the chair by now. You throw the letter in the junk drawer to be forgotten about. Except you don't forget about it. You think about it while trying to sleep and you think about it while washing dishes at work. Her reaching out makes your heartbeat the wrong way. You ignore it with a healthy dose of shame. You will not throw out your morals for her.

The men come back the next day with the same instructions to visit Valeria. You feel that wicked pull of temptation but deny them yet again. And yet again they leave without protest. A few days after that there's another letter slid under your door.

You're upset. I get that, but don't ignore me. You've had enough time to cool down from the shocking news. Being petty doesn't suit you. I can explain if you come see me. I don't appreciate being ignored. I'm being very patient with you, I could easily make you come but I respect you enough not to do that.

This one is shorter and has vaguely threatening undertones. Maybe you should go. Just for your own safety. Your pride wins over though. You will not be threatened or coerced into anything. If she really respected you, she'd leave you alone. Besides, if she's already threatening you by the second letter then she's not being very patient.

You can only imagine what people would think about you just casually visiting her. Weeks after her capture you were paranoid that people had seen the two of you together and would assume the worst. You stash the letter in the junk drawer with the other one. It's the last one you see. You don't even see the men again either. Perhaps she got the hint. You have troubles sleeping for a while. Paranoid that they're going to break into your home and murder you. Time flies by and your apartment remains unbroken into, and you slowly lose that fear.

It really didn't take a lot for her to lose interest. No letters, no men. it's for the best but that doesn't stop you from being hurt. Weeks pass by uninterrupted. She's gone for good. behind bars. You are safe. Everyone is safe. But you aren't happy. She got what she deserved so why do you feel so miserable? You get home from another late shift. Dumping the basket of treats on the kitchen counter. You rarely bother with turning the lights on. Why would you when you know the lay out? Maybe you should have. Maybe you could've avoided being tackled to the ground.

You're winded as a heavy body sits itself down on you. Your fears were right. The men came back to kill you. You open your mouth to scream but the person swiftly clamps a hand down on your mouth. They say your name and it takes you a few seconds to recognize Valeria's voice.

"I'm going to remove my hand, and you aren't going to scream." She whispers coldly. Something sharp and cold presses against the vulnerable skin of your throat. You nod your head shakily and Valeria slowly removes her hand. Your mind races with questions.

"Did you break out?" You ask shakily.

"That's a really idiotic question." She snaps.

She keeps herself pressed against you. She's warm and very solid. Months ago, this is what you wanted, and even now much to your own dismay you aren't completely against it.

"Valeria-"

"You didn't reply to either of my letters." She says sharply. Cutting you off. "You didn't visit me once." She sounds furious and the knife presses against your jugular. "You could've come. Could've heard me out. At the very least you could've come just to get mad at me."

"I am mad at you." You reply shakily. Your voice isn't as strong as you want it to be. She roughly shoves your face into the floor. The carpet rubs against your cheek uncomfortably. It turns out that wasn't the correct thing to say to her.

You can feel how angry she is by the stiffness of her body. Like all her rage is contained in her toned limbs and she has to make an effort to keep it in.

"I should slit your throat for humiliating me like that." She speaks. Her voice dangerously quiet. You feel a sickening flash of fear as her knife moves along the collum of your throat. She traces it up around to the back of your neck. "I put time and effort into you," Valeria continues. Tapping the point of the blade against your skin. You wince when she adds pressure. "and you can't even do me the favor of visiting me." She moves the knife away from you. You hear her plant her hand down beside your head as she shifts her weight down your back. She leans down and rests her head on the back of your neck. Her warm breath hitting it in small puffs.

Her other wraps around your shoulder. Her thumb moving back and forth. This position isn't very comfortable. Even with the carpet the ground is hard against your chest and the added hundred-thirty or so pounds on your back is making it a little difficult to breathe properly. You're scared and confused. Holding a knife up to your throat then cuddling up to you is sending a few mixed signals.

"I opened up to you, you said you wouldn't leave." Valeria murmurs.

"You lied to me." You reply. "You didn't tell me you were a... you're a narco."

"I never lied." She says. Sounding annoyed. "I told you I was a distributor." You twist your head to look at her even though it's too dark to see anything more than a vague outline.

"You said you distributed pharmaceuticals!" You flinch when she swats the back of your head.

"What do you think drugs are?" She snaps. "I never said I distributed legal pharmaceuticals."

Valeria sits back up and you can feel her gaze warming the back of your head. You can picture those cold brown eyes narrowing at you.

"Why are you here?" You ask. If she's going to just kill you, she should get it over with.

"Because you wronged me." She replies gravely, voice still as smooth as honey. The hand on your shoulder slinks down to your shoulder blades. "And I missed you." Something stirs within you at her words, and you tell yourself it's fear. "No matter what a person does, if you're in a relationship with them you don't ignore them. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to be ignored?" No, you have absolutely no clue what that feels like at all.

"We aren't in a relationship." You say, confused. You'd been seeing each other but she hasn't asked you to be her girlfriend. Nothing was ever made official.

She scoffs and you flinch. Expecting another hit to the back of the head. She doesn't hit you, but by the tone of her voice it sounds like she really wants to.

"You were my woman the day I became interested in you." She says coldly. Her weight is suddenly gone from your back. You don't have much time to appreciate the lifted weight before she's roughly turning you over onto your back and sitting right back down on your thighs. Her fingers grasp the hem of your shirt and begin lifting it. You panic and grab onto her forearms.

"What are you doing?" You don't understand what's going on. You thought she was pissed at you. You thought she was going to kill you.

She grabs your arms and yanks them away before returning back to your shirt.

"You need convincing." She coos. Her warm voice contrasting against her behavior.

"Of what?" You ask. Bewildered and a little nervous.

"Of me." Valeria pulls your shirt up. You only make a small effort to keep it on your body but ultimately let her pull it over your head. She can't see you, but you feel exposed nonetheless.

"Get off." You say. Trying to sound firm.

"I will." She replies. "Only after you, though." She slides off of you and you feel the knife press against your hips. She pierces through the fabric of your pants. The sound of them ripping startles you and you try to kick at her.

She grabs your knee and forces your leg down.

"Quit that." She snaps. She rips through the seams and repeats the process on the other leg. You don't move again and pretend it's because you don't want to be accidently cut. She drags your pants away from your body, leaving you in just a bra and panties. You don't want this, it's immoral to sleep with someone like her. She lightly drags the blade along your side. She suddenly drags it underneath the strap of your bra and soon that is also torn from your body.

"That was expensive!" You say. Because that is certainly your biggest issue at the moment.

"I'll buy you a new one." She growls before capturing your lips in a heated kiss. A hand comes up and grabs your breast. The wetness between your legs becomes too prominent to ignore. This is wrong. She's an awful, evil person. An awful, evil person that threatened you at knifepoint. You willingly spread your legs for her anyway. Willingly open your mouth to join your tongue with hers.

Her hand slowly slides down your body to grasp the side of your panties. She gives no thoughts to just ripping them off of you. Valeria seems to hate leaving your clothes intact. The air hits your wet core and causes you to shiver. Something hard and noticeably not made of flesh slides through your folds, spreading your slick and making you gasp. Valeria kisses along your jaw while the tip of the knife's handle presses against your clit, and you arch your back at the contact.

"Couples fight." Valeria mumbles into your skin. "We're no different, I know you still want me."

"No." You try to protest. It's a losing battle. You know this isn't even just a physical reaction. She chuckles and the sound doesn't help. You clench around nothing as she brings the knife handle up to your face, allowing you to smell the evidence.

"What's this then?" She asks. Sucking a mark into your neck.

You don't reply. Shame and embarrassment wash over you. This shouldn't be turning you on, but you want her to return her hand back to between your thighs. She knows exactly what you want. She presses the handle against your cunt once more. Slowly easing it inside.

'You aren't done with me." She whispers. Slowly pumping it in and out of you. "I won't let you be." She sheathes the handle inside of you. The smooth titanium caressing your inner walls. "Besides, do you think you'll be able to look anyone else in the eye after being fucked on my knife?" She noses your cheek.

The wet sounds emitted from the questionable activities down south embarrass you.

"Good girl." Valeria says quietly. Her own breathing has gotten heavier. It seems all your little noises aren't leaving her as unaffected as you thought. The handle repeatedly hits that certain spot deep within you. The pressure is bruising, and your mouth is agape with pleasure. With a strangled whine your cunt flutters. Trying to pull the handle of the knife as deep in you as possible.

She thrusts it in you, making your orgasm last as long as possible. You begin to twitch and writhe once the sensation starts to be overwhelming. She gifts you some relief by removing it, and you feel some slick leak out with it, and you have the passing thought of needing to shampoo your carpet after this. She drops the knife somewhere and moves away from you. She shuffles around and the sound of a zipper being undone reaches your ears. She crawls on top of you and grabs your leg, holding it up to slot herself against you. Her wetness meets with yours and you feel the slight pulsing from her clit. Evidence of her own eagerness.

"You don't understand how hurt I was when you ignored me," she says. Grinding against you. "how angry I got." She presses your leg down and speeds up. You struggle to keep up with the conversation. The feel of her clit and puffy folds moving against yours is the only thing you can think about.

Her breathing is labored, and you can she makes no effort to contain her loud, breathy moans.

'I considered having my men kill you." Valeria pants. "I could always find-find someone else." She moans. One of her hands once again finds your breast and she gives it a light squeeze. "But, against my better judgement, I've grown attached to you."

"I don't know if I believe that." You manage to say. So pussydrunk that it's hard to rub two braincells together in order to form a coherent thought. You can feel your combined wetness dribbling down between your cheeks. You will definitely need to clean the carpet.

"You don't know if you believe that." She growls. "I should've fucked you harder with the knife." She relentlessly grinds herself against you. Your lower lips meeting in a kiss.

"You weren't h-honest about who you were." You argue. She gives your tit a harsh squeeze and you hiss in pain.

"I told you I never lied." She snaps.

"half-truths and omission count as lying!" You groan. Shuddering with pleasure.

Your stomach tightens as you draw closer to another orgasm.

"I can't go around telling everyone what I do for a living." She grunts. Her rhythm becomes sloppy as she begins to chase her own climax. "You know now though, so we have no issues." Your resolve snaps as you come. Your legs tremble as you lean your head back, a drawn-out moan escaping your parted lips. Valeria follows soon after. Her movements faltering until she goes still against you. Release rushing out of her and mixing with yours. She collapses on top of you, breathing heavily as her breasts press against you.

Valeria buries her face into your neck. Her dark hair tickling your chin. Now that the pleasure is wearing off, you're beginning to feel a burning sensation on your back. Perhaps sex on the carpet wasn't the best idea.

"We do still have problems." You whisper. Tired and in need of a shower now. Valeria just grunts in reply. "Not only do you lead a cartel, but you're wanted." It dawns on you just how serious this situation is. She's unstable. You could get into a fight with her and end up dead. Not only that, but you could get in trouble with the police. Possibly the government.

She gently caresses your shoulder.

"There are so many strings I can pull to stay free and leading the cartel is irreverent." Valeria mutters. "You won't be involved."

"Sure but-"

"I already told you I'm not letting you go." She says sharply. "Don't you want to be loved?" You pause. Of course you do. But is she the correct person to give you that love? "I know I 'lied' to you, but it was only to keep you and me safe."

"How was it for my safety?" You frown. Valeria huffs.

"I didn't want you to panic and do something that could lead to your... injury." Injury from what, you want to ask. You don't though. Despite your better judgement and fears, you want to her with her.

Valeria rises off of you and you miss her warmth. She grabs your arm and pulls you up with her.

"Where's your bedroom?" She asks. You lead her to it, guiding her through the short, dark hallway. You push open the door and bring her to your bed. You lie down and she joins you. Pressing close to your back and draping an arm over your waist. Your eyes flutter shut, and you give in to sleep.

#cod mw2 #valeria garza x reader #valeria garza

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miracles-and-butterflies · 4 months ago

Note

How do Agustín and Julieta feel about the whole thing with Luisa being a werewolf and coming back?

Both her parents cling to her. She’s barely been sat down for a moment and suddenly she is crushed in their embrace. They are both crying. Her mother is pressing kisses all over her face and her father is sobbing with nobody being able to workout what he’s saying. Luisa sniffles too and pulls them tighter, a few tears dripping down her cheeks.

“Oh, mija, we thought we had lost you!” Julieta cried. “We asked everyone, we looked everywhere. Nobody had seen you, nobody had known where you’d been! Your friends were so worried about you, they were concerned you had some kind of depression and might have committed…” the woman trailed off. “I can barely think about it, but all that matters is that you are here now and that you are safe!”

“We’re never gonna let you out of our sight again, Lulu!” Agustín agreed.

They continued on like that for more time than Luisa could say. She did not know, she didn’t attempt to keep count and couldn’t see a clock anywhere in the room.

Like everything else in the house, the living room was different. All new furniture and ornaments, photograph frames that were empty or the photographs poorly stuck together with tape. She did this to them… she destroyed their home, their memories…

“Whatever happened to you, Luisa?” Her mother was asking when she pulled herself from her thoughts. Luisa remained quiet though.

Agustín took his glasses off, cleaning them on his shirt. “We were aware you’d gone out with a group of your friends, but then you didn’t come back the next morning. You didn’t run away, did you? …Did we do something to you?”

“No. No! You guys didn’t do anything to me.” She insisted. Had they really blamed themselves for her disappearance? “I, um… well, I actually have something to tell you both.”

Her parents looked over at each other, exchanging looks that Luisa didn’t understand. They both pulled away from her, giving her space but still close enough that they could each wrap an arm around her. At least this way she didn’t have to look at them in the eyes. She didn’t know how she was going to break this to them.

“That night,” she stared, her voice quivering. “The night where I went out with my friends.. when I went missing. Something happened to me…”

Neither of them said anything, their eyes full of concern, holding their breath.

“They took me out into the woods and.. they left me there. I was attacked b-by wolves.”

Her mother’s hand flew over her mouth, a second or two late in trying to cover her pained gasp. Her father’s jaw was on the floor.

They were both very familiar with her friends. Luisa had been around to their houses and they had been to her. Her parents had cooked for them, driven for them, spent money on them, opened their home to them. Had even sent their sympathy to each and every one of them, thinking they were grieving for a lost friend, when actually they didn’t even care. They had done this to Luisa, their baby.

“Mija,” her mother murmured. “My poor darling, I am so sorry.”

“I will call the police! I won’t let them get away with this.” Agustín decided firmly, already getting onto his feet. He paced over to where he had left his phone in the kitchen when the doorbell rang. “I will personally hit all of them with my bag!”

Luisa’s eyes widened in shock. Her parents had never been the overly violent or aggressive sort.

Her mother gave a heavy sigh and shifted closer. She brought Luisa’s hands together in her lap, gently rubbing them. “Don’t mind him. This has been very hard for all of us.” She assured. “I’m sure you’ve noticed the changes in our home - a werewolf attacked and broke into our home recently. It has left us both on edge, and after thinking we had lost you…”

“It’s okay, Mama. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.” Luisa found herself crying again.

She was soon pulled into another hug. She was grateful that she could hide her fear and nerves as just sadness. She didn’t want to lie to them, but she just wasn’t ready. How did anyone admit something like this?

“This weekend, we will go to the spa. Just like we use to do.” Her mother promised. She braved a small smile with misty eyes locking themselves on Luisa’s. “It is just what we need to calm ourselves down.” Luisa nodded along; the spa sounded nice. “And, I don’t mean to offend, but you look as if you might need it, mi vida.”

Luisa blinked a little, “Huh?”

Her mother pointed her lips downwards and Luisa followed her gaze. “Your hands. They are so rough and bruised, and the skin feels so tender. And your nails are so long and jagged.” Her mother let go of her hands, rising from the sofa. “Here, let me go get the nail clippers for you - I don’t want you hurting yourself. I know you’re just like your Papa; so accident prone. And I’m sure I have a spare razor you could borrow. And I can get you some clean clothes. And run you a bath. And then we could all curl up together and watch one of your favourite films? We found ‘Hercules’ a few days ago—”

As soon as her mother had disappeared through the doorway, still muttering on to herself, Luisa pulled the sleeves further down her arms.

Her mother was right, she wasn’t in the best state. She had only had these clothes - they must be dirty and sweaty, covered in fur and smelling like dog. Her hair was growing more since she changed, thicker and stronger too. Her nails naturally pushed to be longer, like the claws in her wolf form. Her skin naturally took its toll through the outdoors and changing form every so often…

But they hadn’t realised?

Sure, she hadn’t been given the chance to fully explain - partially her own fault for not telling them. But why hadn’t they pieced everything together? Was it not as obvious as she seemed to think it was? Or perhaps they had guessed and didn’t say anything? Maybe they didn’t care, if they did know? Maybe it didn’t matter to them, she was still their daughter… and the same beast who attacked them and destroyed their home…

No. She was their daughter. A human, really. The wolf was a temporary and occasional thing. Now that she had learnt to control it and was getting better at hiding it, it wouldn’t be an issue, right? She could go back to her old life! With her loving parents in their warm, happy home! And none of this nonsense with monsters!

#encanto #ask me anything #encanto occult au #my writing

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labellefleur-sauvage · 1 year ago

Text

(Can I Handle) The Seasons of My Life

Summary: The former Lady of Autumn reflects on her difficult history, and hatches a plan while observing her mate.

Helion reminisces over what could have been when presented with intangible proof of his mate’s past.

Or: The private yearnings of a newly reunited MILF and DILF

For @sunandflameweek, Day 7: Free Day!

Despite only having hints written about them, Helion and the Lady of Autumn have such an interesting history and relationship and, I believe, lots of potential. I've wanted to try my hand at writing these two for a while, and what I imagine for them in the future, with a very healthy smattering of smut, of course, and this event gave me the perfect motivation! Thank you so much to @starfall-spirit for creating and hosting this event!

Title is from Landslide by FleetWood Mac.

Rating: Explicit. Word Count: 3.9K

Read on AO3

The woman surveyed the scene in front of her, leaning on a tall marble column with a small smile on her face. Even in her wildest imaginations during her darkest days, Adeline, the former Lady of the Autumn Court couldn’t have dreamt of what she was witnessing now.

The High Lord of the Day Court - Helion, the Sun personified, one of the oldest and most powerful High Lords in all of Prythian, the love of her life, her mate - stood in the palace’s private courtyard, his arms wide, palms facing outwards. Next to him was a younger male with the same build and confidence and hints of features as Helion - Lucien, a prince of Autumn, master emissary, a powerful fae male in his own right, their son - standing opposite him, staring at their surroundings with a concentrated frown on his face.

“My wards are tight, and cannot be broken easily. Most wards can’t, unless you can find a flaw.”

“And what if there is no flaw?” Lucien asked through gritted teeth, his eyes darting to the space between Helion’s spread arms.

Helion grinned. “Then you make one. Whether by unraveling the ward as you see it - like purposely fraying an edge on a piece of clothing and pulling it - or by overtaking it completely, and making it your own.”

“You can do that?” Lucien asked, flabbergasted.

“For the High Lord of the Day Court, and those with my blood, yes,” he said. “And you can too, since you’re…”

Helion trailed off and cleared his throat, looking away from Lucien. Lucien ducked his head and ran a hand through his long red hair - her hair - a blush staining his cheeks.

“Well,” Helion went on. “Shall we continue?”

Adeline continued watching them from the shadows. It was the closest the two of them had come to acknowledging their undeniable relationship. She wasn’t sure they’d ever get to the point of calling each other what they were - father, son - but Helion clearly cared for Lucien in his own way.

“Good,” she heard Helion murmur. He and Lucien were staring at something only they could see, their son’s eyes dancing with excitement, his arms aloft. “Clever, using your fire and light magic together. You’re a natural.”

She could see a few glowing embers in the air. Adeline shuddered. Even after all these months, anything that reminded her of her home court sent a shiver of dread through her.

She hadn’t been back to Autumn, not since that hazy, blood soaked night when Eris had ascended the throne, his father’s mangled head in his hand. She’d fallen to her knees and taken her first wracking breaths as a free female for the first time in centuries. Smoke filled her lungs but it was the sweetest breath she’d ever taken.

Fortunately, Beron’s body had burned to nothing but dust and ashes before anyone could see the ten small stab wounds that suspiciously matched the ornate dagger she kept in her bureau for her protection.

But that was all behind her. Adeline continued observing her mate and their son together - Cauldron, would that ever fully sink in? - as Helion roared with approval at Lucien’s actions, smacking him firmly on their son’s shoulders. Happiness and pride shone in Helion’s eyes and it was unlike anything she had seen on his face before. He and Lucien wore matching smiles and they looked so similar.

This is what your life should have been. She took a deep breath. It was an ugly thought, but true. This is what she should have had for the entirety of her long life: a loving mate, a family with even more red haired, dark skinned children, living not in constant fear and anxiety but surrounded by warmth and love.

But if Adeline could turn back the clock, make one or two different decisions, would she change anything? She loved her six other sons - four, now, she thought with a sharp pain in her chest - some, more than others, and some only in the most biological way a parent had to love its offspring; would she sacrifice their existence for her own happiness?

Lucien, at the very least, deserved better. Lucien deserved a mother who didn’t need to shield him during his childhood, then was forced to watch helplessly as the Autumn Court and all of Prythian tore him apart. He deserved a father who could have protected him, taught him everything he knew, guard him, love him -

It was what Helion was doing now: stepping up and being the father Lucien never had but deserved.

And he looked delectable doing it.

Helion’s dark skin, a few shades darker than Lucien’s, shone with sweat, his broad chest and thick thighs barely covered by his short, one shouldered white toga. A pair of gold sandals wrapped around his graceful ankles and calves, and a matching gold arm band barely fit around a large bicep.

Helion said something to Lucien that had the younger male laughing and Helion reached over to pat him on the back. It was hardly anything, and so simple, but he looked so fatherly, so lovingly paternal, and Helion looked so natural at it -

The beginnings of arousal coursed low in her body. Adeline sucked in a deep breath, then another. She would not have anyone be able to smell how desperate she was for her mate, especially not her son. Controlling her breath, she stepped out of the shadows and into the courtyard.

“I think that’s enough for now,” Helion was saying to Lucien. “You’ve made remarkable progress for a late learner.”

“You’re certainly doing things I never thought possible,” she piped up. Both her mate and her son turned towards her and gave her the same matching smile - how odd, being able to pinpoint where each of Lucien’s features came from - before Lucien jogged over to her.

“Oh, you’re sweaty,” she laughed as he approached, batting him away. “And smelly. I hope you’re not planning on seeing anyone until you can change.”

“I was actually going to go for a walk with Elain soon,” he replied. “She mentioned collecting shells on the beach for the garden.”

“Did she,” she mused, sneaking a peak behind Lucien. Helion had the same shit-eating grin as she did. “Well, I suppose a change of clothes won’t really matter with what you’ll be doing, hm?”

Lucien blushed despite himself. “Well, I shouldn’t keep her waiting,” he mumbled, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek and walking away.

“Take a towel with you!” Helion called to Lucien’s back. “Take it from me, it’s not fun when sand gets -“

Lucien yelled with disgust and shot his parents a crude hand gesture, fleeing the courtyard. She laughed. Her son and his lovely mate had only been mated a month, and the bond was just now beginning to lessen its all consuming hold on them.

“And what are your plans for the day?”

Helion’s strong arms wrapped around her from behind. Adeline lifted her head up against his chest and peered up at him.

“Not much,” she answered. “Perhaps a walk myself, or some reading. Yourself?”

“I have a meeting later today and several proposals and drafts to review. I think I’ll be stuck in my office the rest of the day,” he sighed wistfully.

“A shame,” she murmured back sadly, a plan forming. She pulled away from his embrace. “Well, I don’t want to keep you -“

“And leave me with nothing to remember you by?” he asked in mock hurt, a hand over his chest.

“I thought what we did this morning would have sustained you for the entire day,” she shot back. “My jaw is still rather sore.”

“Ah, but that is in the past and I’ve already forgotten it,” he teased, grinning wickedly. “One kiss to power me through the rest of my dreadful day without you.”

Sighing exasperatedly, she leaned into him and pressed her lips chastely against his. His hand cupped her jaw as he deepened the kiss, nipping her bottom lip, his tongue probing her mouth -

“Have a good afternoon!” she called, dashing from his side before she got sidetracked from her plan. She left him standing alone in the courtyard, his hand in the air where it had been caressing her jaw, as still as a statue.

Adeline wanted him, desperately, but he wouldn’t have to wait long. Dashing to their room, she opened her wardrobe. She couldn’t admit out loud how excited she became at seeing Helion being a father to Lucien, but she could at least show him how much it turned her on.

XXX

Helion stood up from his desk and stretched. He had been curved like a crustacean over his papers so long his neck and bore were stiff, and would most likely remain so for hours. He glanced at his sundial. Only an hour had passed since his mate had left him alone and hard in the courtyard, flitting away to wherever she might be.

He crossed the room to sit in the wide, low chair next to the window. He was irritable that he was stuck here alone, going over inane paperwork, with a meeting still later, rather than with his gorgeous, delectable mate.

Helion groaned softly and leaned back, letting his eyes drift close. What he wouldn’t give to have Adeline here with him right now. He remembered their parting kiss, how soft she had become under his touch. He could almost smell her -

Two sturdy knocks at the door broke him out of his daydream. “What?” He snapped, too wound up to hide his displeasure.

The door opened and his mate’s head popped around the corner of the door. “Are you busy?”

He perked up and grinned, his foul mood already gone. “For you, my dear, never.”

Grinning softly, Adeline hurried into the room and Helion let out a sharp gasp at her appearance. She normally favored long, flowing dresses that covered her shoulders and legs but she now wore a dangerously short one-shouldered stola. Her slim legs were on display, the tops of her breasts peaking out from her low neckline. She stole through the room on quiet, bare feet. Not giving him the chance to move, his mate climbed on top of him, bracketing his hips with her own.

“This is… unexpected.” Helion peered up at her, his hands automatically finding the indents of her waist. “Come to break up my boredom? Or was our parting kiss not sufficient for you?”

“Perhaps I too have a short memory,” Adeline said, leaning down and slanting her lips against his.

Helion hummed against her lips, moaning a little when her hands tangled in his thick locs and gently tugged. She was like a hellcat possessed above him, her hips moving over his lap as she wildly kissed and touched him.

“Here, let me -“ he began, grabbing her underneath her ass and moving to lift her. Her small hands shot out and planted themselves firmly on his chest and shoulder.

“No! I want you like this. Under me. At my mercy.” Adeline’s cheeks were pink, her mouth slightly open, like she was a bit surprised at her own tenacity. She licked her lips and gave him her stearnest glare, refusing to back down and let him lead as he always did.

Who was he to deny his mate?

Settling back down in the accent chair, he swiftly pushed the shoulder strap of her toga down her arm and pulled the top of the dress down to her waist, too impatient to get her fully naked if it meant she had to leave his lap for even a second. Her full breasts were heaving with her labored breathing, her nipples peaked. What drew his attention this time, however, were the faint silver marks running down her pert breasts.

He knew from their frequent and numerous couplings that Adeline had matching stretch marks on her hips and thighs and lower stomach, the only remnants of her pregnancies. He’d spent hours re-learning and exploring every inch of her body over the past few weeks, and these stripes received the same love and attention as the rest of her.

Here, in his arms in the sun, the stripes on her breasts shone and glowed. The stretch marks adorning her body were evidence of her fertility and fecundity, of all the babes she had brought into the world -

A stab of pure anger shot through him. Those should have been his children his mate conceived and carried and bore, not that bastard’s. Adeline’s body should be wonderfully soft and gently stretched because of him and his cock, no one else’s. He gripped the cushion on the chair beneath him so hard he heard the fabric rip.

They struck gold already; they made Lucien in a single, heady, lust-filled night, a young male with power and abilities that rivaled his father’s, even after only a short period of studying and training. The potential of any future offspring could be enough to cement Day’s glory in Prythian for ages. Helion wanted it - wanted to have another child with his mate, watch her stomach swell as she grew their babe within, establish a dynasty in his court and the entire world, parade her around to the other high lords and beat his chest, Look at my mate, look what I’ve done to her -

“You're angry - what’s wrong?”

His mate had that all too familiar furrow between her brow, her eyes weary. Her breasts were still exposed, body taut with anticipation, but she had subtly shied away from Helion’s body and looked ready to run away if needed.

Like she could if she wanted to. Helion mentally beat that animalistic part of himself that was always so near the edge whenever she was around him down deep into his psyche. Guilt and shame welled up where his inner beast had been only a moment before. Adeline had spent nearly her entire life afraid due to one male - he vowed to himself when she first came to Day that he would never frighten her.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, trailing soft kisses along the delicate skin of her wrist. “Just thinking of all of our missed time together.” Not entirely a lie.

But he would never ask that of his mate, never put the burden of another pregnancy, wanted or otherwise, on her. Adeline had already spent so much of her life in service to others - Helion would be damned if he added any more responsibility for her.

“It’s never too late to start making up for lost time,” Adeline said quietly, a soft smile on her lips. Helion hummed his agreement and leaned up towards her at the same time she lowered her face towards his for another kiss.

He gently dug his fingers into her luscious hair as they kissed, keeping them together. She spent so much time on her hair, he almost felt bad undoing it. Almost.

She grasped one of his wrists now lazily twirling her unbound hair around one of his fingers. Keeping her heavy lidded gaze on him, Adeline slowly dragged his hand under her short stola and between her thighs.

Helion swore. “So wet for me already, my mate?” He swirled his fingers through her soaking folds, enjoying feeling her tremble in his arms. “And what has gotten you so excited already?”

She blushed a red so deep it nearly matched her hair. “N-nothing,” she stuttered shyly. “Just thinking about you.”

Helion hummed. She wasn’t being truthful but he wouldn’t press her - at least not now, anyway. There were better, more pleasurable ways to get information out of people.

He sunk a single finger inside her at the same time she brushed his toga away and pulled his length out into the open, her soft lips grazing his. Helion hissed as Adeline began pumping him leisurely, in time with his finger inside her. He broke their kiss to gaze down. It was a sight he’d never tire of: her small, pale hand, wrapped around his straining cock.

There were many sites he’d never tire of, all of which concerned the female in his lap, but this was one of his favorites.

Quickly, she shifted so she was squatting over him on the chair and angled his cock between her legs, still obscured by her clothes.

“I was planning on eating you out, you know,” Helion groaned, shutting his eyes and leaning his head back as his mate began working him inside her tight channel. “It’s been nearly a day since I put my mouth on you. I’m overdue.”

“Later,” Adeline said distractedly. She bit her lip as her hips finally met his, letting herself get used to him (as she always needed to do, he thought smugly). After only a moment, however, she raised herself over him then brought her hips down.

They groaned in unison. She set a steady pace, rising and falling in his lap, occasionally taking his entire shaft and grinding her lower body against his. She moaned loudly when his cock hit deep inside her, uncaring about who might hear as she chased her pleasure.

Adeline was never this forward with him. He had had to coax her into more adventurous love making, his cock a proverbial carrot on a stick as they tried new positions and acts together. This was the first time they had fucked outside of their bedroom and Helion was already thinking of the places he could get her next.

He bunched up her toga at her waist and groaned. Her pink lower lips were stretched obscenely around his thick length, her small bud jutting out for any attention. Helion watched, transfixed, as Adeline bounced in his lap, his cock shining with her essence every time she took him to the hilt.

“You look so good taking my cock,” Helion rumbled appreciatively, still watching her pussy grip him. He brushed the red curls between her legs before swiping his thumb over her clit. She whined low in her throat. “My beautiful mate, fucking herself full of me.”

Her breasts bounced in his face and he took a peaked nipple in his mouth, laving his tongue against her skin. His mate whimpered above him and thrust her hips down even harder and faster against him.

“That’s right,” he murmured softly, his thumb still caressing her clit. “Take what you want me from. Want to feel you break around me.”

“Cauldron Helion,” she groaned, digging her fingers into his shoulders. He could feel her legs shaking and he gripped her under her thighs and ass to help her move up and down his length.

She threw her head back and closed her eyes, her long hair grazing the tops of his thighs. She was so damn beautiful, and he was so fucking lucky to have her in his life.

Planting his feet firmly on the ground, Helion started thrusting up into Adeline’s tight depths every time her plush ass met his thick thighs. She gasped in pleasure as she stopped moving and let Helion fuck her, lowering herself to her knees and throwing her arms around his neck when her legs gave out.

“Helion, please, yes!” she cried, burying her face in his neck. He gripped her hips to keep her steady as he continued to thrust into her wet heat. His balls tightened underneath him; the wet smack of their flesh joining, combined with his mate’s soft cries and gasps against his skin, pushed him dangerously close to the edge.

“Touch yourself,” he grunted out. He wasn’t going to last much longer and didn’t want to come before his mate. Adeline’s hand ghosted down his front before it delved between her thighs, her fingers occasionally grazing his shaft as it pistoned in and out of her.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, hauling her even tighter against his body as he finally felt her break around him. Her inner walls fluttered around his length and she cried into his shoulder, her moans muffled against him, her short nails digging into his muscles.

Helion didn’t care to silence himself. With a loud groan that reverberated through his chest he came, emptying himself completely into his mate. He moaned through the aftershocks of his orgasm, lazily thrusting into her until he was fully spent.

They sat there together in blissful silence for several long minutes. Helion ran a hand up and down her spine. Even after all the sex they had, each time was still better than the last.

His mate sat up. She had a happy, satisfied grin on her face.

“I’ll have to visit your office more often,” Adeline said, nuzzling his neck. “Make sure you’re not working too hard and what not.”

He chuckled. “After that, I don’t think anyone will be under the impression that there’s any work being done here.”

She sat up. “Did… did you not set a silencing ward?” Alarm bloomed in her eyes.

“Didn’t really have enough time, since you sauntered in here and had your wicked way with me before I could even think to put one up.”

She groaned feebly. “I hope I didn’t interrupt your afternoon meeting.”

Helion shrugged. “I’m sure I won’t have a problem rescheduling. Besides finding increasingly bizarre places to bed Elain, I don’t think Lucien has much else penned in his daily planner.”

She blanched, her eyes wide. “You’re meeting… was supposed to be with Lucien?” She gulped. “Oh Cauldron, what if he heard us?!”

“Lucien is a young male with a very happy and content mate,” he said pointedly, running his hands soothingly up and down her arms until she calmed down. “I should know, I’ve heard and seen them going at it everywhere. They destroyed a perfectly good reading table in the library -!”

“And we haven’t managed to destroy anything with our lovemaking,” Adeline said thoughtfully. “Perhaps we’re losing our touch.”

He scoffed. “Are you implying we’re old?”

“Well, you discovered you were a father not too long ago,” she said slyly. “How would you feel about becoming a grandfather so soon?”

He cocked his head at her. It wasn’t an entirely unpleasant thought, to be honest - Lucien and Elain were a beautiful couple, and any babes they had would be just as wonderful. Plus, it would bring children into the palace. Children he could hold and coddle and play with, then foist back to their parents when they cried or started smelling.

Perhaps grandfatherhood was more up his alley.

He grinned up at his mate. “As long as you’ll still have me in your bed, I don’t care what you call me.”

“A grandfather,” she said mischievously. “Who I’d still like to fuck.”

“Then I’ll have to make sure to cancel meetings with Lucien more often, so he and Elain can make us grandparents,” he said mischievously, bringing a laughing Adeline even closer to him.

XXX

Lucien stood frozen outside Helion’s office, a horrified grimace on his face. He heard everything.

Ok, not the entire traumatic ordeal, but enough to know his mother and Helion still had a very active sex life, and were apparently counting the days for him and Elain to have children.

They wanted grandchildren that badly? Fine. Let them see how amusing it was when Lucien and Elain handed a screaming baby to them for a night off, or Lucien took a leave of absence from his Heir duties, piling even more work back on Helion’s plate. Good luck finding time to spend with his mother then.

Lucien turned and rushed down the hall. It seemed his schedule was suddenly booked full with Elain.

#sunandflameweek2023 #helion spellcleaver #lady of autumn #helion x lady of autumn #helion x loa #acotar #my fics #my fic #day court #autumn court #a court of thorns and roses #i spared everyone the horror of a poorly done moodboard to go along with this #because i couldnt find any good images for the life of me

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honeybeezgobzzzzz · 2 years ago

Text

𓅨 An Innocent Apple

An Innocent Apple: The dark version of ‘An Offered Apple’.

Warnings: Clueless, Oblivious & Innocent!Reader, Dark!Morpheus, Nudity, Peril, Morpheus Purposefully Puts Reader in Dangerous Situations, Manipulation, Mind Fuckery, Blood, Terrified Reader.

To Note: DARK!Morpheus/Dream x Librarian!FemaleReader.

Word Count: ~12.4k

An Offered Apple | Masterlist | An Accepted Apple

You had been a mortal who had argued with Death over your end of life. But unlike the billions of others before you, you hadn’t wanted Death to take you simply because you refused to leave your beloved library and books. So Death made a deal with you, and packaged you and your immortal life, up, and sent you to her brother. Surely you would be endlessly satisfied with the great library of The Dreaming and its constantly expanding shelves. But in the end, whether or not you were satisfied with your new life didn’t matter, because Lord Dream, the Lord, and King of your new home, had become quite infatuated with you the moment he laid eyes on you. Of course, you didn’t know that, you were actually quite oblivious to his lurking shadows… but that meant he could spin you up in his web until you could only turn to him.

You were currently tabbing through several books Lucienne needed shelving, looking at the spines and separating them by the first letter of the last names. Lucienne was incredibly strict about shelving the books in their proper spots, but that was one of your strong suits as you thrived with strict library order. This grand library was paradise for you. Picking up the stack of last names that started with R, you ventured into the aisles and started tucking the books away in their respective places. Two went near each other, but you had to have the library twist and bend to get to the other end of the R section. You were returning to the stacks of organized stories when Lucienne came rushing into the little office area.

“Lucienne?” You queried, frowning at the look of stress on her face. She came to a stop in front of your sorted stacks and let out a deep sigh.

“Lord Morpheus has asked me to look into a complication regarding the Ocean of Dreams but he is also in the middle of scouring certain books of dreams…” She stated tersely. “I am sure he has forgotten that I cannot do two things at once and since you are not equipped to deal with the waters of dreams, you shall have to deliver the books he needs yourself.” Lucienne wanted you to deliver some books to the King? Surely you weren’t ready for the prestige of that measure…

“Ah, Lucienne, I don’t think I’m qualified to do so…” You meekly responded, eyeing the exit of the library. “I mean, I don’t even know him. Surely you’d rather have someone who is familiar with the king and who he trusts deliver his research materials?” Lucienne gave you a short look before grabbing a piece of parchment and scribbling on it. Then she handed it to you.

“Lord Morpheus has ensured that I am much too busy to deliver the books myself and you are the only one who can replace me.” She stated firmly, clearly not mad at you… but entirely short with Lord Dream. “You will be fine, Y/N, you only need to pull the books and deliver them, and then ask if he requires any more books.” You nod in understanding but are still confused that you, a lowly and very much new, librarian, would be trusted with this task. That wasn’t to say you weren’t good at being a librarian… you were actually a damn good one!… But things had been run a certain way in The Dreaming for eons, had they not? Lucienne striding off to do whatever Lord Morpheus had asked of her, left you with little choice.

You looked down at the written list, Lucienne’s handwriting was very easy to read and looking closely at the titles, you quickly figured out where the books you needed were. So diving into the aisles, you went down the list of titles, one by one, picking the books out and tucking them underneath your arm. Once you had five books in your arms, you set out for the throne room. As you walked, you couldn’t help but gawk at the palace you spent so much time in, yet had never actually explored. It was resplendent, like nothing you had ever seen before. You didn’t quite understand how the halls and rooms stayed so bright during the night when the only lighting-like fixtures were glowing orbs set in light fixtures. Did Lord Dream actively control them throughout the day and night? Or were they made to be on a timed schedule? It hurt your brain to think hard about it so you shook your head and paid attention to where you were going.

Walking down a hall, you were taken by a long line of stained glass windows that seemed to shift between different scenes. It was a living wall of glass. You really needed to get out of the library more often because there was so much you didn’t know about the palace and the realm. Who knew what you were missing? Readjusting the books in your grasp, you looked forwards at the end of the hall and saw Mervyn tinkering with one of the orbs in a sconce. You walked over to him.

“Hello Mr. Mervyn,” You softly greeted the pumpkin-headed janitor. He turned in place, his usually grumpy-looking face carved on his pumpkin features. Mervyn grunted at me.

“Ya know I told ya to call me, Merv… right? I ain’t nobility and ‘m pretty sure that you’re in a higher position than me.” Mervyn grumbled, swinging the wrench in his hand around. You didn’t understand his words, surely Mervyn was higher in the palace hierarchy given his seniority and long-term residence… but you weren’t going to argue with him. You looked at the broken-apart sconce.

“What are you fixing?” You asked, your head tilting to the side in curiosity. “I can’t seem to wrap my head around how those lights work.” Mervyn looked up at the deconstructed sconce.

“The piece of it that controls the illumination fell out of sync with the master orb,” Mervyn grunted, gesturing to a more mechanical-looking part of the sconce. He then waved the wrench in a circle. “All of the lights in the main halls are controlled by a master orb that is set up to be in time with the natural light of The Dreaming. I’m sure you’ve seen the ones in the library change?” You nod, slowly getting a better understanding.

“Yes, but they have a switch, Lucienne showed me on my first day.” You pointed out. Mervyn’s pumpkin head bobbed.

“The lights in the library are manually controlled by the switch since it’s always changing, and depending on the section yer in, will brighten or dim. You and Lucienne are the only ones in there daily and the whole place don’t need to be lit up all the time.” You blinked and furrowed your eyebrows.

“That’s surprisingly efficient and energy conscious.” You murmured. “Oh, pardon me, I didn’t mean to distract you from your job, Mr. Mervyn.” You then say. You heft up the books you held. “I need to deliver these to Lord Dream. Have a good day!” As you walked off, Mervyn called after you.

“It’s Merv!” You giggled to yourself as you continued on your way. Marching the rest of the way to the throne room, you paused for a moment at the grand archway, before steeling yourself and moving forwards. The throne room was intimidatingly large with cathedral ceilings that shimmered and changed periodically. As you walked along, you couldn’t help the wonder that bloomed on your face and sparkled in your eyes. The library was extraordinary but the throne room was bewitching and bewitched you were. At least you were until little clicks on the smooth marble floor drew your attention. You looked down and saw Lord Dream’s raven, Matthew.

“Hello, you must be the Matthew I’ve heard all about.” You said cheerfully, looking down into black eyes with a warm smile.

“And you must be Y/N!” The raven replied with a flutter of his wings. “I’ve heard all about you, what brings you by?” You held up the books in your arms.

“Book delivery, Lucienne was supposed to do it but another task concerning the Ocean of Dreams came up and she was unable.” You spoke with a small shrug. “Granted I have no idea what I am doing… I’m just a librarian. Surely Lucienne would be better equipped at attending to Lord Dream’s needs, I’m a nobody to him.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Matthew returned, cocking his head to the side. “… he’s kind of obsessed with you…” You didn’t quite catch what Matthew said.

“Pardon?” Matthew scrambled in place to correct himself.

“Morpheus has been wanting to meet you!” He stated loudly. “You know, since you’ve never officially met… doesn’t want to seem like a bad lord and all…” Your face scrunched and you shook your head.

“Of course, he isn’t, he’s busy is he not?” You said, patting the books in hand. “It was lovely meeting you, Matthew, but I better deliver these books to Lord Dream and get out of his way.” It was then that you felt intense eyesight on you, and raising your own, you were met with the silver blue eyes of Lord Dream himself, stars sparkled in the depths of his irises. You felt a shiver of unease run down your spine, but that was a silly feeling. There was absolutely nothing for you to fear from Lord Dream. He, after all, was responsible for your new life and home. So you plastered a smile on your face and marched yourself up to him… well perhaps not marched, but you made your way to him with conviction. “Apologies, Lord Dream, but Lucienne was unable to make the delivery herself due to a sudden situation so she sent me instead.”

“There is no need to apologize, Y/N,” Morpheus spoke to you, his eyes finally taking in your entire being in the light, in front of him. He had only ever seen your ethereal being from the shadows, he had caught lingering glimpses and lurking views, but never when you were gazing at him with your striking eyes. Immortality suited you, it suited you well. “I’m afraid that a complication within the Dreaming waters requires immediate assessment and I have forced Lucienne’s hand. I am at fault.”

“No, you’re not!” You blurted out before you even thought about it, his eyebrow rose and he smile. Then you realized what you did and flushed, clutching the books closer to your body in embarrassment. “I— I mean to say, Lord Dream, you are surely busy and certain things take precedence, do they not? If I can be of help to you then I will gladly bring you books. It’s my job as a librarian, well, your librarian, Lord Dream. It’s the least I can do after everything you’ve done for me.”

“I hardly believe opening my library to you is deserving of your loyalty, Y/N.” Morpheus teased you gently, enjoying the way you flushed and glowed beneath his gaze. You looked heavenly. Morpheus rose from his seat on the stairs to his throne and slowly descended them, his eyes never leaving yours. Your breath hitched in your throat at realizing just how beautiful Dream of the Endless was. When Morpheus came to a gentle stop in front of you, he stared down into your eyes like he was trying to stare into your soul. “I am very appreciative that you took the time to bring me these books, Y/N, thank you.”

As you offered the stack of five leather-bound books to him, he retained his gaze in yours as his fingers ever so gently brushed against yours in Morpheus’s retrieval of the books. His touch was warm against your fingers, comforting, very human-like. You let him take the books from your hands.

“I do not know what I would do without my librarians,” Morpheus added, his gaze now lingering on you far longer than socially necessary or acceptable… but you were clueless and clearly more worried about committing a faux pas in front of your king. A smirk flashed across Morpheus’s face when your eyes dropped to the marble floor.

“Do you need anything else, Lord Dream?” Your angelic voice softly asked, your eyes now drifting to the inner lining of the long coat he wore to stare at the stars glimmering and glowing within the soft material.

“I should like for my librarian to address me by my name,” At Morpheus's soft call which you almost felt against your hair, you lifted your eyes to his in question. He was looming over you, but not threatening, no, his star-blue eyes stared down into yours with gentle insistence. But you couldn’t possibly be so informal with a king.

“But Lord Dream, I am—“ He lifted a finger and pressed it against your lips while shushing your protests.

“I should like you to address me by my name,” He repeated, a little more forceful this time, but still just as gentle and soft. You nodded at him obediently.

“Okay, Lord— Morpheus,” You answered, entirely missing the brief shudder that went through the Endless in question. His name on your lips was ecstasy. “I’ll try, but I can’t promise that I’ll get it right away. I— you are my boss and you deserve all the respect in the realm. I also don’t think Lucienne would approve…” Morpheus’s lips twitched in mirth.

“You fear Lucienne?” You scowled at him as he tenderly shifted his finger along your cheek to tuck a section of your hair that had fallen from its updo, behind your ear.

“I know how she is when she’s not happy,” You replied, your nose scrunching in distastes. “She puts all of the strict librarians I knew to shame!” Morpheus chuckled at your facial expression.

“Yes, I do believe she does, and for your earlier question, no, I require nothing further from you, Y/N,” Morpheus told you, wishing that he could take you right there and now, and show you all the love and devotion that had been festering beneath his skin since you had arrived in his realm doe-eyed and lost. But he didn’t want you to spook, so he was going to carefully cultivate his relationship with you until all you could rely on, was him. You would come to him, rather than him go to you. Morpheus was willing to be as patient as he needed to make sure that you ended as his.

Matthew was in a pickle. He liked you, really liked you actually. You were incredibly nice, extremely helpful, and knowledgeable when navigating the library, and your conversations about the Waking World always put a fire underneath Matthew’s wings. You were someone he could relate to… which is why he was in a pickle in the first place. Morpheus wanted him to learn everything there was to know about you, specifically, your likes, dislikes, and favorites. Spying on you on the orders of his master seemed entirely wrong… but Matthew knew that to go against Morpheus would lead him to dire consequences. Surely the Dream Lord’s obsession with you meant that he would never intentionally cause you bodily harm, but Matthew was unsure of what Morpheus’s long-term plans for you were.

Letting out a sigh, Matthew swooped into the library and went in search of you. Either you were shelving books, cataloging new ones, or reading, all places were centered around the heart of the library. You were bent over one of the library tables, pen in hand while scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment. Matthew coasted over to the table and landed, hopping several times so he was closer to you.

“Hi Y/N!” Matthew chirped happily, looking at you with kind black eyes you would expect no deception from. The raven was already feeling bad and he hadn’t even asked you anything yet! Morpheus, ever-present in the back of his mind, gave Matthew a mental push, reminding the raven of his purpose of being there.

“Hello Matthew,” You greeted with a wide smile, your eyes not matching your exuberant smile. “How have you been?” Matthew cocked his head from side to side.

“You look like you haven’t gotten a wink of sleep in the last week, Y/N!” Matthew exclaimed as he felt a ripple of displeasure from Morpheus. You better have a good reason for why you were in this state or Morpheus was not going to be happy. You let out a tired chuckle.

“We got in a batch of books by an author I’ve been following for years…” You explained. “I’ve been spending all of my off time reading.” Extreme disapproval rushed through Matthew so fast that the raven’s feathers ruffled and he hopped several paces.

“Y/N! Just because you’re immortal now doesn’t mean you can skip out on sleeping!” Matthew scolded you. You stuck your tongue out at the bird.

“You’re not my dad, Matthew,” You returned in a teasing quip, your tired eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m not apologizing, I’ve been waiting months for those books. Now I’m just catching up on work, still gotta catalog and shelve the other books.”

“Would it be too much to ask you to take a break with me, even if it is just for five or ten minutes?” Matthew broached, hoping that he could at least feel better about badgering you to get answers for Morpheus, by getting you to take a break. “Do it for this old man?”

You snorted at him, but set down the pen in your hand and eyed the pleading raven.

“You’re not old, Matthew, but I will humor you.” You told the raven, much to his relief. Matthew hopped closer to you.

“Great! So, I was wondering, since you are the only one here in The Dreaming that really understands what our old world was like… do you want to talk? Because we both no one around here knows what a Twinkie is or has ever tried a hot dog…” You snorted loudly, your face screwing up in disgust.

“Twinkies are gross Matthew. They are oil-soaked sponges that are like 100% sugar!” Matthew let out a small cackle.

“And hot dogs!?” You shrugged in indifferences.

“They're good when they’re good, but bad when they’re bad.” You made another face. “Trust me, the school lunch hot dogs I had were terrible. I take it you like hot dogs?”

“Do I like hot dogs? Fuck yes, I like hot dogs, no, I love hot dogs!” Matthew jabbered away. Matthew. He hopped to attention at Morpheus’s sharp call. Right, he was supposed to be asking you about what you liked, not blabbering about hot dogs. “So I don’t want to talk your ear off about hot dogs, what are your favorites? Because with the way you love books, I highly doubt that you eat.”

“I do too eat, Matthew,” You stated, rolling your eyes and propping your chin up on the table. “Like my favorite drink right now is this tea blend my neighbor introduced me to. It’s made from tea leaves found here in The Dreaming and tastes like nothing I’ve had before… and there’s this little bakery in the main square that has the best pastries.” You sighed at the thought of the cinnamon rolls at the bakery. “The problem is that I usually end up working when my favorite pastry is ready and miss out, my neighbor occasionally grabs some for me but I always feel bad for making them go out of their way.”

“Oh really? What is it? Is it a Danish or a croissant?” Matthew questioned, fully at attention now. You shook your head as you flushed lightly.

“No, it’s their cinnamon rolls,” You sighed again, mouth nearly watering at the thought of them. “Best damn rolls I’ve ever tasted…” You hoped you hadn't started drooling right there.

“Okay, so you're gonna probably start drooling by the look on your face so let’s talk about something else. You got a favorite flower? My daughter was obsessed with sunflowers when she was little.” Matthew said, his head moving to the side. “She convinced her mom and me to paint her room this bright yellow, even gave us the puppy dog eyes about getting a sunflower bedspread.” You giggled at Matthew’s words.

“My favorite is probably daisies and coneflowers, but I love all of them,” You told him. “They’re so special and when you receive them as a gift, they always manage to brighten up a space.” The conversation continued, you and Matthew exchanging your likes and dislikes, with you doing a lot of talking because Matthew was a bird that never shut up and asked a hundred questions. It was nice to talk to him about your old world.

It was weeks later since the talk you had with Matthew. You had nearly forgotten it had ever happened you were so busy between reading your favorite books and performing your duties as a librarian. At the moment you were doing some light reading since you had nothing to do and Lucienne had disappeared nearly an hour ago. You think she had been muttering something about an auxiliary library on the other side of the palace… but didn’t know what that meant. The only library in the palace was this one, was it not? Either way, Lucienne had disappeared and you had no idea where she was at this point, leaving you to man the library by yourself until she got back. You had no idea when that would be. You were in the middle of a passage when you heard Lord Morpheus’s voice breaking the silence of the library.

“Lucienne?” You perked up at his voice and lifted your eyes from the book as the Endless himself appeared. His eyes met yours and you gracefully rose from your spot at the table.

“My lord,” You greeted softly. “I’m afraid Lucienne left to attend to an urgent matter and I am unsure of when she will return, is there anything I can help you with?” Everything had gone exactly as Morpheus had wanted, Lucienne was out on his behest which left you all alone to man the library. It meant that he could time alone with you, precious little you that seemed to be oblivious to him. That didn’t matter to Morpheus, he loved that you were so absorbed in your books, oblivious to any and all approaches save for his. It was how he wanted it.

“I was hoping to ascertain Lucienne’s help in researching the past incidents of vortexes, but if she is not here…” Morpheus started. “I do not wish to interrupt your reading, I know how much you love it.”

You were immediately waving him off with a small smile.

“Nonsense, my lord, I am a librarian and couldn’t call myself one if I was unable to assist you in your research needs. While I am no Lucienne, I do think I can provide you with some assistance.” You responded brightly, your eyes sparkling with eagerness. Morpheus all but ate up your enthusiasm to help.

“I would be much appreciative if you would, Y/N,” Morpheus smoothly said, his head tilting to the side. “I believe the books should be under the V section, but I do not believe that are by the same cataloging system as the regular books.” You blinked and tilted your head to the side, your eyes going fuzzy for a moment… then your smile was back.

“Found them, follow me!” You stated before diving into the nearest aisle. Morpheus quickly moved to follow, his eyes watching as you moved through the aisles of his library as if you had been doing so just as long as Lucienne had. You weaved in and out of the aisles, your head swiveling as your eyes tracked the gold-inscribed labels on the dark shelves. “Vortex… vortex… vortex..” You found the shelf and reached for the wooden rolling ladder. The shelf that held the books was higher than either of you could reach. “Here we are!” You looked back at Morpheus. “All the books the library has are on this shelf, are you looking for any in particular?”

“Volumes three, seven, and eight,” Morpheus told you, his eyes watching every minuscule moment you made as you climbed up the steep ladder and reached for the tomes in question. You pulled eight first, since it was nearest to you, and then seven. The tomes were considerably heavy so you twisted on the ladder and offered them to Morpheus, who was watching you like a hawk. Morpheus took the tomes and you turned back, reaching for the last one, Volume One. Just as you were stretching to tug the old book from its place, the entire library seemed to tremble and shake, the bookshelf included. You let out a gasp as your balance was thrown off, or more specifically, backward. The tome in your hand fell to the floor as you tumbled backward with a startled yelp. You could have sworn your new life flashed before your eyes as you fell through the air, but rather than landing hard on the marble floor and having the air knocked out of you, your body landed in a pair of arms.

“Sweet Jesus,” You grunted out, clutching Morpheus’s jacket. “What the hell was that?” You then aired out, looking at Morpheus who gazed at you with intense concern.

“A problem I am currently looking into,” Morpheus murmured, his arms tightening around your body as the rumbling in the palace slowly faded. You nodded in understanding before looking down at your fingers digging into his jacket.

“Oh, my apologies, I didn’t realize…” You trailed off as you retracted your nails from him. Then you recognized that you were still very much in his arms. “Oh dear me, I am so sorry Lord Morpheus. I didn’t mean to fall on you I just—“

“I was hardly going to let you fall from the ladder, Y/N,” Morpheus responded, cutting off your rambled apologies. Of course, your falling from the ladder wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t like you were controlling the jarring earthquake— Morpheus was. You had just looked far too irresistible not to hold you for however long you would let him, and what better way than to have you fall into his arms? He was going to prove to you that he was your savior, that he was your only savior.

You had decided to take a walk through the palace gardens before heading home for the day. All day you had seen flower blossoms lazily swirl through the air and you had been dying to see the gardens in which they had come from. So there you were, walking a winding path through meticulously cared-for gardens and marveling at the incredible plants that bloomed with diversity and life. You couldn’t help but stop and lean down to smell some of the fragrant flowers. Was everything in The Dreaming perfect? Most likely… You continued on your way until you passed beneath an archway of clematis. You stopped short.

In front of you was an explosion of daisies of all types, colors, and varieties. It took your breath away and stood there for a good minute or two, gawking at the flora splendor that was a paradise of your favorite plants. You didn’t know where to look, the bed of spiraling daisies arranged in a rainbow, or the koi pond dotted with heartier bushes that framed the crystal water, or the tall lupin that had been added on one of the beds to give a little variation… It was all so much. You took to following the little cobbled path that wound around this section of the garden in an S curve.

As you walked, a soft breeze fluttered through the garden, carrying more of those blossom leaves from the cherry blossom garden you knew was on the east side of the palace. A section of your hair was blown into your face and reaching up, you pushed it back behind your ear while looking at the fading sun in the distance. This would make a lovely spot to sit and watch the sunset. You went in search of a bench, finding one not that far from the path in the form of a swinging bench underneath a canopy of wisteria and ivy. Taking a seat on the bench, you slipped your shoes off and brushed your feet over the soft grass with a smile on your lips. This felt so nice, sitting there in the garden while watching the sunset. Then you heard quiet footfalls on the cobble path and turning your head, you saw Morpheus striding your way with his hands behind his back.

“I thought I might find you out here,” He spoke while stepping his way over to you. “You seem to be partial to sunsets.” You smiled and nodded.

“Love them,” You said in agreement before brushing your hand over the nearby daisies. “But I love daisies more and this garden is an absolute treasure.” As you spoke, you had no idea how much you were stoking Morpheus’s desire for you, nor were you even aware that this entire garden existed solely for you. Your reaction to his gift for you was everything and more to Morpheus and he knew that he was getting closer and closer to spinning you closer and closer to his arms. Once there he would make sure you never left.

“I’m glad you enjoy the gardens, Mervyn takes great pride in tending to them,” Morpheus responded to you with a slight bow of his chin. Then he glanced at the space next to you and gestured to it with his hand. “May I?” Your eyes sparkled in return.

“It is your bench, sir,” You teased him, your voice light and refreshing. Morpheus lapped at the bright and effervescent emotions you were giving off like a thirst-starved man.

“And yet I believe you are the one that it currently cradles, Y/N,” Morpheus replied, his eyes glowing a light silver in happiness. “But if you are feeling so clement.” He took a seat next to you, sitting just close enough that your legs brushed. The bench had been designed as a lovers' bench and offered very little room between two persons sitting side by side. You hardly noticed, or at the very least, didn’t seem bothered by the contact. “May I ask you a question?” Your sun-kissed face turned his way.

“Of course,” You replied softly. Morpheus’s head tilted to the side in genuine curiosity.

“Does your job as a librarian ever get monotonous? You are always shelving books, shifting them around, and retrieving and returning them. Do you ever tire of such activities?” That was understanding assessment and questions. You did repeat the same activities day in and day out, to those outside your field it probably did seem monotonous.

“Perhaps it might seem like that,” You said, leaning your head to the side to look at Morpheus with that gentle smile he loved so much. Another breeze blew through the garden, ruffling your hair. “But at the same time, I get to read books whose pages have yet to be turned, whose spines have yet to be broken in, I get to read words that have not graced eyes before mine… there is nothing like it. It’s— very special, something only I get to experience.”

Morpheus, rather than responding, reached up with his hand and brushed his fingers through your hair. You looked up at his fingers to see him pulling one of the delicate cherry blossoms that had been flying around all day, from your hair. Your hand went up, brushing against his as you searched for more blossoms.

“Do I have any more? This breeze, while feeling wonderful, has been blowing the blossoms around so much I half thought I’d be covered in them by the time I headed home.” You tutted in fake irritation. Clearly, you loved watching the little petals blowing around, he had seen you smiling fondly out the windows plenty of times when he was been watching you.

“No,” Morpheus affirmed, reluctantly withdrawing his hand from your hair. “I believe it was just this one.” While you went on to talk about recent events, Morpheus weaved the delicate cherry blossom between his fingers, jealous that it had remained in your hair far longer than his fingers.

You had a late night at the library, catching up on a large number of books that needed to be shelved. It was probably around eleven, maybe even twelve. The moon overhead gave just enough light for you to comfortably walk home. Not that The Dreaming was a dark place to tread through at night. The village had plentiful softly glowing lanterns that illuminated the streets well enough so you weren’t tripping over your feet walking home. Your cottage was on the outskirts of the village, where there was less lighting and more alleys and bends to obscure light, but you had never felt uncomfortable walking home… until tonight. For some reason, you couldn’t help but feel like you were being followed.

It was absurd. None of the residents in The Dreaming had ever threatened you or even posed a threat, even the Nightmares you had come across were fairly nice. Granted you hadn’t met all of them… but it was silly to be nervous walking home this night. Yet your fight-or-flight instinct was telling you to run. No, not run, it was telling you to bolt to your cottage and lock yourself in it for safety. You felt like you were being hunted.

Clutching your little messenger bag closer to your side, you picked up your pace, walking fast and eager to get home to put all these silly feelings to rest. Turning down the road that led to the far side of the village where your cottage was, you glanced at the soft street lights… were they getting dimmer? You looked behind you. One of them went black, then the next, and the next, one after another, like a swath of darkness creeping up to you from behind. Your heart jumped in your throat and you could have sworn you saw something move in the looming shadows. Then there was a glimmer of eyes bearing at you from the dark depths. You let out a squeak of fear and bolted forwards, nearly tripping over your own feet in your haste. Something gave chase behind you.

You knew this part of the village well, but it seemed that wherever you went, darkness followed and it became harder and harder to see. Ducking down alleyways and small slips between buildings, you tried to lose whatever was chasing you, but every time you emerged onto a new street, it was there haunting you from behind with a menacing aura that made your entire body go cold. You were panting out, breathing heavily in your efforts to outrun whatever was currently chasing you. If you could only manage to make a few more blocks of cottages you would be home. Swerving around a corner, you collided with a stack of crates and went tumbling to the ground, your knees and palms taking the brunt of your weight when you landed on the cold stones underfoot.

You bit down on your lip when your felt your knees and palms open up, dirt and rock digging into your flesh as you started to bleed. The crimson liquid was left behind on the cobbles as you hauled yourself back to your feet. From behind you came a menacing snarl and glittering red eyes glowing from the depths of a cloud of darkness. Clutching your stinging hands to your chest, you lurched back into a run, fleeing from your menacing follower. You turned the corner of the shoemaker, dashing around the corner quick as a sparrow and diving to the left into a slip alley that ran adjacent to the road that your cottage was one. A sense of hopelessness started to seep into your veins when you heard the sounds of claws scraping stones shortly behind you. In your panic, you blindly charged out of the slip alley into a slightly brighter street and all but ran straight into what felt like a solid wall. Had it gotten in front of you!? You jerked backward sharply with a high-pitched scream, your arms flailing in front of you in a pitiful attempt to ward off whatever attack was going to be thrown your way.

None came. Instead, arms were ceasing your panicked, flailing limbs, trapping them against a body as someone steadied you on your feet. As you heaved for air, your wild eyes connected with midnight blue ones that were tinged with silver.

“Y/N?” Morpheus spoke, and you flinched and twisted sharply around to look behind you.

“Something was—“ You cut yourself off, no longer seeing your stalker. In fact, all of the lights were back to normal, illuminating the road nicely and brightly. It was as if you had imagined the entire thing. Morpheus’s arms tightened around you and his hand reached up to turn your chin so you had to look at him once more.

“Y/N what’s wrong, I could feel your distress.” You blinked at him, working on getting your breathing back under control.

“I could have— I could have sworn something was following me.” You softly panted out, still trembling from the high of adrenaline. “And the lights, the lights went out and it was dark and I couldn’t see and I—“ Your palm flared in sharp pain from where it was pressed against his chest. You drew it back to look at your torn-up palm with a wince. You had deep gouges in your flesh from where rock and dirt had roughly dug into your skin, your knees weren’t feeling any better… Morpheus dropped your chin and took your wrist in hand, turning your shaking hand in place before releasing your body and doing the same with your other hand.

“You’ve injured yourself?” He questioned, his blue eyes tinting with silver as he held your hand's palm up beneath the lights of the street.

“I— I tripped, my knees and my palms took most of my weight.” You stammered out, glancing over your shoulder once more. “But I swear, something was following me!” Morpheus gently stroked your wrist with his thumb, sending soothing emotions into your body until you were less of a rattled state.

“Never fear, Y/N, I will not let anything happen to you while you are in my presence,” Morpheus promised you faithfully. “If you would let me, I should like to walk you home and attend to your wounds.” You looked down at your oozing wounds and bit your lip from the lingering pain, you were lost in thought once more. “Y/N?” You jerked slightly, your head swiveling around as if you expected something to jump out at you. Then you realized that Morpheus had simply called your name. Looking back up at him, you nodded silently.

“I— yes, thank you.” Morpheus maintained a grip on your elbow as he gently led you the rest of the way to your cottage. Unlocking it, you welcomed him inside as you pulled off your cloak and removed your messenger bag.

“It seems that you took quite a tumble,” Morpheus commented as you lifted the skirt of your dress to reveal your torn-up knees. You hadn’t realized just how bad your landing was in that alley until this moment. Before you could start thinking of how to go about cleaning your wounds, Morpheus was picking you up and setting you on your kitchen counter. You only had moments to gawk before he had your right hand in his and was ever so gently brushing his fingers over your wounds. Your fingers twitched as silver light glowed from his touch, and then you gaped as your skin magically wove itself back together. Once healed, you twisted and rotated your hand against his touch, amazed at how easily he had healed your injury.

“How did you do that?” You asked as Morpheus did the same with your other hand, using the same gentle touch and care as before.

“It is one of my many abilities within my realm, Y/N,” Morpheus softly replied, looking into your eyes as you watched in amazement as your other hand was completely healed as well. You seemed absolutely taken with the menial ability to heal your wounds as if they had never happened. It was far too easy to please you, but that only made Morpheus’s desire that much more obtainable. Your eyes eventually lifted to his.

“Can you do my knees as well, Morpheus?” Just hearing you call out his name was enough for Morpheus to be willing to do anything you wished, he would create an entire realm for you if you so asked. You had so much power over him and yet, you were ever so oblivious to his desires and intentions. Morpheus’s lips twitched into a smile.

“I would never leave my favorite librarian in such a state,” He spoke to you as he sunk on one knee and brushed your skirt upwards to reveal your blood and dirt-ridden knee. You reached down and gathered your skirt, pulling it further up your legs so it wasn’t in his way. Morpheus’s fingers caressed your knee, brushing away the blood, dirt, and rock particles that had lodged in your flesh with a silver touch, leaving behind unblemished skin. You moaned in relief as the sting disappeared from your body. Morpheus let his touch linger on your skin as the last bit of your flesh meshed together to become whole again. Leaning back on your perch, you heaved out a sigh of relief.

“I could kiss you for that,” You murmured, your eyes closed at the relief of sharp pain. “It feels so much better.” Morpheus rose to his feet with a teasing smirk on his lips.

“An action such as that I would welcome, Y/N,” You smiled and rolled your eyes, thinking, of course, that he was only teasing you back. He was not. Morpheus took your healed hand in his one more and brushed his fingers over your palm, little sparks of electricity bursting from his touch. “Should you find yourself walking home alone at such as hour, please call upon me for I shall gladly walk you home to ease your fears.” You nodded with a thankful smile.

You were wandering through the market, buying fresh food in anticipation of Matthew’s birthday. You being you, had learned what Matthew loved and decided to make him dinner and dessert for his birthday, his favorite foods of course. Morpheus was enjoying watching you flitter around the market, so absorbed in your task. You looked so happy and carefree, entirely in your element so to speak. You got along with the residents of The Dreaming ever so well. You really were the perfect one for him. Morpheus had been trailing behind you by several paces when you had caught sight of the berry stall. Your eyes had lit up like the sun and you had nearly tripped over yourself, clumsy you, as usual, to get to the stall to buy several cases of blackberries for Matthew. Morpheus chose this moment to make his presence known.

“It seems to you have discovered Matthew’s secret love affair,” You didn’t jump in place like you had other times, you were becoming more and more accustomed to him, and turned in place to beam up at Morpheus.

“Oh, hello Morpheus! Yes, since it’s Matthew’s birthday I thought I’d make him his grandmother's blackberry tart… granted I have no idea how to make a tart and haven’t really baked before, but it’s his birthday so I thought I would try.” Morpheus bowed his head to the side with a smile.

“I am sure he will greatly appreciate the sentiment, regardless of how it turns out, Y/N,” Morpheus told you, loving the way your smile brightened. You looked down at your basket full of produce and patted it.

“Well, I am done shopping so that means it is time to try my hand at baking.” You stated, moving in the direction of the road that led to your cottage. Morpheus fell into step beside you. He walked you the rest of the way to your home and as you set your basket down on the kitchen counter, a thought popped into your head. Morpheus had been more than generous to walk you home, so why not give him a little treat? The apples you had bought looked incredibly delicious and surely he would enjoy the fruits of his peoples' labor. So you plucked one from the basket and turned to him. “Before you head off, take this,” You said offering the apple.

Morpheus has to use all of his control to stop his eyes from blazing nuclear mercury at the innocently offered apple. Happiness burst within his chest at your proposition. This was exactly what he wanted from you, innocent you, and here you were, offering it yourself! Morpheus took the apple from you with reverence and splendor. There was no way you could reject his advances now that you had been the one to propose.

“Make you sure take care of yourself, I know you’re working hard these days,” You told him in concern, oblivious to the noxious churning of obsessive desire and want that burned within Morpheus. “I don’t want to see anything happen to you.”

“You have my word, Y/N,” Morpheus told you, holding your apple close to his heart. You were that much closer to him now, your proposal opened so many doors to him, and Morpheus planned on stepping through each one.

You were sitting in the gardens again, enjoying the last bits of the fading flowers and trying your best not to shiver in place. The weather in The Dreaming had slowly turned seasonal, a fact that you loved, but you had entirely forgotten that when it got cold, you needed your cloak to stay warm. Out of all days you had decided to enjoy the gardens, it was when it was a blustery cold day and your coat was hanging neatly on the door hook at home. So you were basically freezing yourself to an ice cube while trying to enjoy the last bits of the garden you loved so much. At least the leaves turning a myriad of colors was beautiful to look at and reminded you of The Waking World. You shivered in place once more, feeling your teeth rattle.

“You should have dressed warmer, λατρεία μου, you are trembling.” Morpheus’s voice came from your right and soon enough the man was walking up to you, his long coat flapping in the wind.

“I didn’t plan on watching the sunset today so I didn’t bring my cloak,” You weakly protested. “And it’s not like I leave the library much, I didn’t see the need.” Morpheus raised an eyebrow at you momentarily before taking a seat next to you.

“Then perhaps should keep one in the library?” He offered. “You surely spend more time there than in your cottage.” You gave him a half-hearted scowl before shivering again. Morpheus eyed your trembling body, entirely pleased with how cold you were. Another strong gust of wind blew through the garden and you hunched over.

“Come closer, Y/N, surely you do not need to needlessly shiver and shake in the gales of The Dreaming,” Morpheus spoke up quietly, his voice thick with persuasion and hope as he opened his jacket. You eyed the space next to him and with zero hesitation, scooted over to huddle into his side. He couldn’t help the triumphant smile that spread across his lips as you pressed your body into his side. Morpheus draped the side of his coat around your shoulder so you were covered. Surely he could have taken his coat off and given it to you, it would have been more than enough to keep you warm… but why do that when he could have you pressed against him as you currently were, eagerly seeking out the heat he provided you?

It was late at night, close to the time when you would pack up and head home, but you had a few things that you wished to finish before doing so. So you were bent over a book, pen in hand, scribbling notes down for Lucienne. The tea you had been sipping was long since cold and forgotten next to you and the lights in the library had faded to a low dim. You were halfway through scribbling a note on a passage you had just read when a wall of tiredness hit you like nothing before. You tried to blink rapidly through the overwhelming urge to close your eyes, but you ultimately failed. With your eyelids fluttering close, your head dropped to your arms on the table and you fell asleep.

From the shadows of the library, Morpheus watched as you, his beloved betrothed, fell fast asleep from where you had been sitting for hours on end. It was clear that, while you were a hard worker and dedicated to your job as a library, you worked a touch too much and needed to properly rest. Clearly, you were unable to regulate your own sleeping schedule, so Morpheus had decided to do it for you. You might not be able to fully take care of yourself… but as your betrothed, it was Morpheus’s job to see to your well-being. So walking over to where you slept peacefully, Morpheus ever so gently gathered your body in his arms and lifted you from your seat. You didn’t wake from the movement, you were trapped within the deep sleep Morpheus had coaxed you into, lost in a world of comforting dreams. With you tucked away in his arms, Morpheus carried you out of the library and to the nice little study, he had had the palace create just for you. He placed you on the couch that sat in front of the crackling fireplace and covered your body with a blanket. You snuggled yourself into the couch, burrowing beneath the blanket before sighing out and falling into a much deeper sleep.

Pleased that you were fast asleep in a restful slumber within his palace, Morpheus took his seat and settled in, entirely content to watch you sleep. He spent the entire night sitting there, just watching you sleep peacefully, in his palace, where you belonged. The hours ticked by and Morpheus enjoyed watching the dreams that your mind pulled you through, one he found most amusing was that you had dreamed up a library. Did you not already spend enough time in the palace's library? You truly did love books. Morpheus was going to make sure that you loved him more.

Your lovely idea to collect ice roses from Fiddler’s Green was a nice thought, you wanted to do something nice for those in the palace and the ice roses only bloomed in winter… but at twilight. Hence why you had said it was a nice thought. It wasn’t so nice when you were tromping through half a foot of snow at twilight, freezing your ass off, and wearing clothing not suitable to protect you from the cold that was rapidly setting in.

“Better find those roses, Lucienne is going to scold me when she finds out that I came out here by myself, at twilight.” The more you thought about it, the more you realized that Lucienne and Morpheus would be angry. Surely if you collected plenty of ice roses and got back home unharmed, they wouldn’t kick up a fuss… right? Besides, this was Fiddler’s Green, there wasn’t anything dangerous here. Right?

You decided to put that thought in the back of your mind as you pushed forward against the snow. Climbing up a small hill, you let out a sigh of relief at the sight of glittering crystal-like roses. This was it. Hefting the basket you had brought with you against your side, you hurried down the hiss towards the roses and withdrew the clippers you had borrowed from your neighbor. You carefully picked your way to a section of the ice roses and knelt in the snow, ignoring the wet cold that soaked into your jeans. You started clipping ice roses and gently placing them in your basket, which came prepared with a damp towel to extend their life.

Humming underneath your breath, you clipped flower after flower, counting to two dozen before you were satisfied with your clippings. Sitting back on your haunches, you took a few moments to appreciate the beauty of the field of ice roses, before ultimately being chased off by the cold. You clutched your cloak further around your shoulders and got to your feet. With the basket of flowers perched on your hips, you began following your footsteps back toward the village. As you walked, you noticed that it only seemed to get colder and colder, and your breath was combing out in white puffs. You were shivering now and your fingers, which you had covered with some gloves also borrowed from your neighbor, started to go numb.

“Why did I think this was a good idea?” You moaned under your breath, heading into a section of the forest you had all too cheerfully walked through only hours earlier. Coming upon a downed log that you had stepped over previously, you carefully stepped over it once more, balancing the basket on it as you did so so you didn’t drop any flowers from your basket. You continued on your way, looking forwards at your old footprints, and mindlessly followed them through the rapidly darkening forest. Little clumps of snow had started to fall from the sky and the last thing you needed was to get turned around in the dark and have your foot tracks disappear. At least that’s what you were doing until you spotted a second and third set of footprints, and those footprints weren’t human. You stopped in place and squinted at the animal prints in the snow. It only took you a second or two to realize that they looked an awful lot like that of a dog, or worse… a— Your thoughts were cut off by a howl breaking through the quiet winter night. The basket dropped from your hand and you felt your heart stop in your chest. “Wolf…”

You couldn’t scramble fast enough. Surging forwards, your feet slipped in the snow slightly as you hurled yourself into an awkward, snow-bogged run while your heart tried to beat its way out of your chest. You weren’t paying attention to where you were running, you just had one thought on your mind and that was to flee. In your frightened panic, you lost sight of your old footprints and just randomly charged your way through the darkened forest. You bat away branches and sticks that dug into your skin and tore at your cloak and then were almost strangled when a particularly large branch caught the fluttering fabric of your cloak and refused to let go. You fought against the branch, trying to get your cloak from its clutches when the howls grew closer.

“F this,” You breathed out, your hand diving your the string of the cloak at your throat. You quickly unraveled the knot and left your cloak behind as you pushed forwards, now colder than ever. Awkwardly running through the snow, dodging more branches, you failed to consider that there might be roots you needed to hop over and proceeded to spectacularly trip on one, sending you flying forwards. You face-planted into the snow and felt frigid snow soak into your clothes. Grunting, you struggled to get to your feet, ending up on your knees first, before using a nearby tree to get yourself to a standing position. You felt soaked and were quickly losing the feeling in your hands and feet. Taking a risky glance behind you, you caught sight of several wolves slinking through the trees behind you. That was more than enough motivation to get your half-numb body moving again.

It was hard to keep moving, you were feeling drowsy now and your limbs, your numb limbs were struggling to obey your mental commands. You were less running and more lurching. Stumbling, you nearly face-planted a second time slipping on some ice. Your arms cartwheeled and you flailed, your hand smashing against rough bark as you grappled your way to stay on your feet. You could faintly see red staining your hands, but they were so far gone that you couldn’t feel the wounds opening up from your clawed grasp on the bark. At this point you felt like slumping against the tree, closing your eyes, and surrendering to the beckoning abyss of sleep. But yet another terrifying howl pierced the frosted night sky and you remember that you were running for a reason. You staggered forwards once more, too cold to even cry tears of fear at this point.

Breathing out strained pants, you slipped and slid your way down a nearby bank and clutched your arms to your ice-soaked sweater. You were lost. Clearly. Lost and had a pack of Dream Wolves chasing you for some god-known reason. Which nightmare had decided to tease and taunt you this time? You didn’t have the energy to care. You took one more glance over your shoulder and once again saw wolves moving behind you, they were getting close, so close, and you didn’t have the energy to go any faster. Just as you turned back around, you crashed right into something hard and started falling backward, your numb limbs giving out.

For a few seconds you thought that perhaps one of the wolves had circled to head you off, but as you shivered and chattered, you realized that your body was now being supported by another. Whoever now held you felt like a furnace, but you were too far gone to move to claw yourself closer. You simply lay limp, struggling to keep your eyes open while you rasped for breath. Eyes fluttered up at softly glowing ones, your blue lips attempted to speak, but all you could get out was a rasping whimper. Morpheus’s face, gentle and soothing to your frayed mind, started fading in and out as he gathered you in his arms. You tried to speak his name, but couldn’t even do that. Soon your eyes grew too heavy to keep open, and you let them stay shut, the cold finally trapping you in its frosty embrace.

Coming back to consciousness, your mind was slow to register your surroundings. It was still struggling to come back from the depths of hypothermia. Or at least that is what your subconscious knew, you were confused and in pain. You didn’t know where you were, you were having a really hard time opening your eyes, and the blood within your veins felt as it if were on fire. You would have been writhing in place, squirming around to get away from the fiery pain that bit at the corners of your body viciously, if you weren’t trapped against a hot body wrapped around yours. Arms were wrapped around your back, cradling your head against a naked chest. Your own would have been doing the same if they weren’t twitching and shaking with violent jerks against a smooth back. You wanted to claw at your skin because it felt like acid was being dripped onto it. Your entire body writhed as another wave of intense burning charred your nerves. You choked on a whimper.

“Shh,” The gentle shush caressed your ear as a face nuzzled the crown of your hair. “Forgive me, my beloved, I know it hurts but you need to be warmed up. Your body is much too cold.” You recognized that voice, it was a man’s, but from where? Another acid-filled pain burned through your body, this time eating away at your right thigh. You cried out and sank your left hand into his back with a soft sob. You were hushed more, fingers gently stroking your hair as arms refused to let you writhe and jerk around as you so desperately wanted. In your squirms, you could feel just how much of your skin was pressed against another. You had to be naked, you were naked, for you could feel that life-saving heat of another pressing into your frozen body. Your legs were intertwined with one another, your torso pressed tightly against a strong chest, and your arms draped around sculpted shoulders. Yes, you had not one scrap of clothing on, but you felt so awfully cold that you didn’t even care that you were wrapped up naked in someone else’s arms.

Struggling to open your eyes, you sluggishly managed to crack them open as your head lolled back slightly. Pale skin graced your vision, skin that was pale as the moon itself. Who had skin this alabaster white? Morpheus. The hand in your hair slipped down until hot fingers were gently caressing your face, you leaned your head back further to see Morpheus’s eyes gazing down into yours. You harshly bit down on another whimper of pain as your eyes watered with tears. Your cold lips struggled to form words.

“…w-wolves…” You rasped out, your teeth chattering. “Roses, w-wanted to b-bring…” Morpheus brushed his thumb over your trembling lips and tightened his hold on your shaking body.

“You are safe now,” Morpheus whispered at you, his fingers tilting your chin backward and his face leaning down to press close to yours. You were cocooned in an envelope of heat and yet your shivers and trembles were relentless. A few tears broke free of your lashes and ran blazing trails down your cold cheek. Morpheus wiped them away. “Do not fraught yourself, Y/N, everything will be well now. I promise.” You grimaced and bit down on your lip hard enough to draw blood as another acidic burn ripped at your muscles. Back arching, you went taught in his arms and stifled more whimpers. Morpheus was prepared for your continued wracks of pain, holding you ever so tightly and keeping your naked body pressed against his, no matter how much you tried to squirm. He was going to breathe life back into your frozen body with his touch, but first, he had to make sure your mind was cleared of fear and pain.

Morpheus held your chin so your pained eyes gazed into his and let his magic flow, wrapping around you, winding its way into your mind and memories. Your eyes glowed silver as Morpheus tugged and pulled at your mind and thoughts until he was satisfied that you would no longer have anything to fear. You went rigid in his arms as his magic slowly slipped from you, then your eyelids fluttered shut once more and you went limp. Morpheus cradled you closer, nuzzling his face into your hair with an appeased hum. You were finally his.

You woke up with the echoes of a headache and felt a touch on the cold side. Opening your eyes, you stared at your silken bedsheets and tried to recall the last memory you had before going to bed. You couldn’t. Rolling onto your back, you stared at the ribbons of fabric that were draped across the top of your four-poster bed and hugged your bedsheets closer to your naked body. Naked? Looking down, you stared in puzzlement at yourself. You didn’t sleep naked, never had, so why were you naked now? That thought lingered in your mind as two women fluttered into the room and busied themselves. One drew back the draped from the line of windows at the opposite end of your bed and the other dove into a dresser. Neither of the two seemed to realize you were awake until the one that was tying back the drapes, turned around.

“Oh! My lady, you are awake?” She twittered. The name Emeline repeated in your head, that was her name. “After Lord Morpheus brought you back early this morning we expected you to spend the day sleeping in recovery.” Recovery? From what? Your apparent confusion must have been clear on your face because the woman’s eyebrows drew together. “You… do remember what happened, do you not?”

“Er, not exactly?” You spoke out hesitantly, looking around. Everything seemed familiar. You knew it was yours, this room was yours, the handmaidens were yours, even the bed… but at the same time, it was also foreign and new. “I— I am afraid I’m a little confused and think I might have forgotten. How did I get here?”

“Lord Morpheus brought you back after you failed to return from Fiddler’s Green.” The other handmaiden, you think her name is Megara, a Grecian woman who had lived for thousands of years, said. More confusion filled you, what were you doing in Fiddler’s Green?

“You went to pick ice roses,” Emeline piped up, gesturing to a vase on a table in front of the large windows. The roses were beautiful, the petals almost crystal clear as they glimmered beneath the morning sun.

You did remember going to pick ice roses, but it got foggy after that.

“I think— I think I got lost?” You echoed in further confusion. “I’m… not really sure what happened, I remember picking them and it being cold, but I don’t remember coming back.” Emeline bobbed her head, her ebony curls bouncing as she did so.

“That’s because you were out cold, my lady, passed out from hypothermia… if the king hadn’t gone out to fetch you, I don’t know what would have happened to you!” So that’s why you were so cold, in your attempt to get those pretty flowers, you had gotten hypothermia and passed out. How silly of you.

“Well that was entirely silly of me,” You softly chuckled, still very much confused but understanding how you had gotten so cold. Faint memories of your body feeling like acid as your muscles warmed back up flickered through your mind. Then the infinitely warm embrace of Morpheus wrapped around you, your limbs entangled with him as he held you while you cried from the pain. Your head started hurting and reaching up, you pressed your hand to your temple with a wince.

“Oh to have a betrothed as dedicated to me as Lord Morpheus is to you,” Megara sighed. “His devotion and love is eternal.” You blinked in even more confusion, you and Morpheus were betrothed? You didn’t remember him asking you to marry him, you didn’t even remember dating him. But for some reason, you didn’t remember a lot of things. Looking down at your left hand, you saw a ring on your ring finger. It was a silver band in the shape of a vine wrapping around your finger. There was a medium-sized stone mounted in the middle, sparkling with the color of a galaxy, and little white gemstones were intermittently throughout the ring band itself. It even had little silver daisies carved into it. Clearly, Morpheus knew you quite well and had meticulously thought of every little detail. You might not remember much about your intimate relationship with him, but it was clear that he loved you very much.

“Would you like to get dressed, my lady?” Emeline asked. “Surely your body could do with some movement.” You agreed, the movement would surely warm you up further and your joints felt in need of exercise. The pair helped to dress your still slightly shivering body and made sure to have you don a thick robe to keep you plenty warm. You didn’t know quite what to do, so you took to wandering around the palace, trying to jog your spotty memory. Surely you could remember something about dating Morpheus. One didn’t just get engaged to an Endless on a whim and Morpheus certainly didn’t do anything without direct thought and reason. You were wandering the palace, looking at the stained glass and statues when you absentmindedly walked into the throne room.

“Y/N?” You blinked at the call of your name and dropped your eyes from the swirling glass overhead to see Lucienne staring at you in concern.

“Oh, hello Lucienne,” You greeted with a small smile, you wrapped your robe further around your body. Lucienne eyed you up and down, concern clear on her face.

“Are you feeling well?” She prompted, shrewdly looking at you as if checking you for further injury.

“I feel fine,” You happily told her. “Well I still feel a little cold, but Emeline and Megara said that I had hypothermia so that’s kind of expected.” Lucienne still looked irked, for some reason, and it seemed that she was working to hold her tongue.

In fact, she was. Lucienne wasn’t oblivious, not like you, and she knew full well how obsessed Morpheus was with you. Obsessed enough to play tricks on your mind, stalk you from the shadows, and cause bodily harm it seemed, and yet, you were still oblivious little you, happily smiling away in blissful ignorance. At the very least Lucienne could take comfort in knowing that Morpheus would never allow further harm to come to you now that you were officially his. She wondered what you would think if you ever learned the truth behind your recent mishaps… but knowing Morpheus best, Lucienne knew that you would never find out the truth. The only comfort Lucienne could take was that Morpheus was so devoted to you that he would rather die than see anything happen to you, so you would be well taken care of, even if that meant you were trapped in a gilded prison…. and had no idea that it was a prison in the first place.

“I see,” Lucienne commented quietly, working to hide the sadness she felt deep within her heart. Any further words she wished to speak quickly died on her tongue when Morpheus himself came striding over.

“Y/N,” Morpheus spoke, his eyes soaking in the sight of you all wrapped up in the clothes specially made for you, and your little hands clutching the hand-stitched robe you wore around your shoulders. The ring on your hand glimmered from the lights in the room. “Should you be up, my dream?” Your nose wrinkled at him in response and you let out a small huff.

“I wasn’t going to stay in bed all day, Morpheus,” You told him, your lip curling in a pout in a way he found most adorable. “Besides, I need to get my body moving to warm up. The best way to do that is to move, walking around isn’t that hard and won’t do me any harm.” Morpheus’s eyebrow rose as he looked at you up and down. His eyes shifted momentarily to Lucienne was watching you carefully, her eyes met his, and a silent message passed between Morpheus and her. It was a clear dismissal. Lucienne cleared her throat and spoke up once more.

“I believe I have work to do in the library, my lady, I will see you later,” At the mention of the library, you perked up once more. Lucienne’s eyes narrowed at yours. “And I should not expect to see you there until you are fully recovered.” You drooped and pouted further at Lucienne’s words, but didn’t argue back. Satisfied that you were going to listen, Lucienne bid her final goodbye, giving Morpheus one last look. Morpheus stared down at you with adoration as you looked at Lucienne’s receding in confusion.

“Is it just me, or was Lucienne acting strange?” You asked, looking back up at Morpheus. He couldn’t help but find your confused face adorable and reached a hand up to brush his fingers over your hair.

“I am sure Lucienne is just concerned for your condition, my love,” He told you gently, allowing his fingers to linger on your face and skin. “How do you feel? In the early hours after finding you, when I was warming you up, you were in great pain.” You remember your skin feeling like acid, and trying to writhe in his arms as he held you against him. Your eyes dropped to the marble floor as you struggled to remember more.

“I feel good, maybe a little cold… but fine otherwise,” You told him, lifting your eyes once more to peer into his starlit eyes. “My memory is very spotty and I can’t recall everything though.” Your words pleased Morpheus, everything was going as it should. Morpheus cupped your cheek and bent his head down, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Memory or not, I am elated to know that you are well once more,” Morpheus whispered, his nose brushing yours. You smiled at him and giggled.

“I’m not going to be taken down just because I got cold, Morpheus,” You told him in between giggles. “That would just be absurd.” Morpheus raised an eyebrow at you.

“Of course not, my future queen is much too stubborn to succumb to hypothermia.” Morpheus drew out, maneuvering your head back more so his lips brushed against yours. They were much too irresistible when this close and he couldn’t help but steal a kiss from your lips as you giggled. His lips pressed against yours, careful to hold just how much he wanted you, back. Morpheus could feel the heat that blossomed beneath the skin of your face and chuckled against your lips. Your innocence was truly endearing.

“Don’t laugh at me,” You whispered against his lips, trying to sound mad at him, but entirely failing to do so.

“Apologies, my love,” Morpheus apologized, pulling back to look you in the eyes. “Please forgive me, I couldn’t help it, you are just far too irresistibly adorable.” The heat beneath your skin burned hotter and you hit him in the chest with your fist.

“Morpheus!”

“I’m sorry, my love, I’m sorry, I can’t help it.” He told you, hugging your body, your only huffed at him and wrapped your arms around his torso to rest your head against his chest. Yes, your memory was spotty, but Morpheus was devoted to you, so did you really need to remember what you had forgotten?

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