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zapreportsblog · 1 year ago

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Hello! So I had this Poly!Volturi Knights x Reader idea

Where (y/n) went to a “Red and Black ball”(you can pick the readers outfit if you want) made by the Volturi kings themselves.

And during their time at the ball they made eye contact with each of the knights as they walked pass by them

Almost like a slow motion moment Yknow😅

This is so cool I can definitely do this and I’ll even have it as each of their povs further down in this

↱ queen of the ball ↰

➘ summary : the volturi goes all out for their newest member, it’s a good thing they are hosting a ball tonight

➘ a/n : I don’t feel I did my best for this but I hope you enjoy it nevertheless :)

➘ Jane x Alec x reader x demetri x felix , volturi x reader

The grand halls of the Volturi castle were adorned with opulent decorations, a tapestry of black and red intertwining to create an ambiance of both elegance and power. The anticipation was palpable as guests from all corners of the vampire world gathered for the much-awaited black and red ball, hosted by the Volturi kings themselves.

In a secluded chamber within the castle, the newest member of the Volturi, (Y/N), stood before a full-length mirror. She was surrounded by a whirlwind of activity as skilled hands worked to transform her appearance. The dress that had been meticulously designed for her lay across a chair, a masterpiece of black silk with intricate red accents that mimicked the patterns of rose petals.

Marcus, known for his impeccable taste and eye for design, had overseen every detail of the dress's creation. He had chosen to infuse it with an air of enchantment, a nod to the fairy tales that humans so often told. The dress clung to her figure in all the right places, the red accents tracing delicate lines that emphasized her natural beauty.

Aro, with his flair for the dramatic, had arranged for a hairstylist and makeup artist to enhance (Y/N)'s features. Her (h/c) hair was woven into an intricate updo, adorned with delicate red crystals that caught the light and shimmered like stars. The makeup artist had worked magic with brushes and pigments, enhancing her eyes and lips in a way that accentuated her allure without overpowering her natural radiance.

As the finishing touches were applied, (Y/N)'s reflection stared back at her with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. This was a night of celebration, a chance for her to make her mark within the Volturi and to showcase her newfound place as a member of their family. She had been embraced by the kings, and tonight, she would step into her role with grace and poise.

With a final flourish, her reflection smiled back at her, and the transformation was complete. She turned to face the attendants, gratitude filling her eyes. "Thank you all. I never imagined I would be part of such an extraordinary event."

Caius, whose taste leaned towards luxury and indulgence, entered the room, holding a pair of red and black heels with a glass-like sheen. "To complete the ensemble," he declared, a rare hint of a smile tugging at his lips. The shoes were a work of art, a perfect match to the dress that had been crafted with such care.

Finally ready, (Y/N) took one last look in the mirror before stepping out into the bustling hallway. The whispers of admiration that followed her as she walked towards the ballroom were a testament to the effort that had been put into her transformation. The dress swirled around her with each step, the red accents catching the light and creating an ethereal glow.

As she entered the ballroom, the atmosphere shifted. All eyes turned towards her, the sea of black and red parting to make way for her presence. The Volturi kings stood at the center, their gazes filled with approval and a touch of awe. Aro's grin was infectious, and Caius's nod of approval held more weight than she could have hoped for.

Marcus approached her, his calm demeanor softened by a smile. "You look stunning, my dear. Your mates will surely love seeing you in this."

With each note of the music that filled the air, (Y/N) felt the weight of her new role lifting. She was not just a member of the Volturi; she was a part of a family that celebrated her, appreciated her, and had dressed her in a gown fit for a modern Cinderella.

Demetri's eyes were fixed on the entrance to the grand ballroom, his heart pounding with an excitement he couldn't contain. He had heard the whispers and the anticipatory hum that had swept through the castle, signaling the arrival of someone special. And then, like a vision materializing from his most fervent dreams, she appeared.

(Y/N) walked into the room, her presence captivating everyone in its wake. His breath caught in his throat as his gaze traveled down her figure, taking in the sight of the black Cinderella-like dress with its delicate red accents. The dress hugged her curves with a grace that left him momentarily speechless.

The red accents seemed to dance like flames against the darkness of the dress, creating an enchanting contrast that mirrored her captivating aura. Her (h/c) hair was elegantly styled, adorned with crimson crystals that caught the light and shimmered like stars in the night sky. The makeup that enhanced her features was a masterpiece, drawing his attention to her mesmerizing eyes and the curve of her lips.

Every step she took seemed to be guided by an otherworldly elegance, as if the very air around her recognized her significance. Demetri's heart swelled with pride as he watched her, a fierce possessiveness welling up within him. She was his mate, a beacon of beauty that had captured his heart and soul from the moment they had met.

Her eyes scanned the room, a mixture of curiosity and wonder reflecting in their depths. It was as if she was seeing the grandeur of the ballroom for the first time, and in a way, he realized, she was. This was her introduction to the world of the Volturi, and he was both honored and anxious to be a part of this pivotal moment in her life.

Demetri's thoughts raced as he continued to watch her. The way she moved, the way she interacted with the other guests—everything about her was a testament to her innate grace and charm. He knew that this was a night she would remember, a night that would etch itself into her memory just as indelibly as it would in his.

As the music swelled and couples began to dance, Demetri found himself unable to tear his gaze away from her. She was the center of attention, the embodiment of the beauty and elegance that the night represented. And in that moment, he knew that he was the luckiest man alive to have her as his mate, to witness her in all her glory as she graced the ballroom with her presence.

Jane's crimson eyes were fixed on the entrance to the ballroom, her usually impassive expression betraying a flicker of anticipation. She had heard the whispers and felt the subtle shift in the atmosphere, signaling the arrival of someone who held a special place in her heart. And then, as if stepping out of a fairy tale, (Y/N) walked into the room.

A rare warmth spread through Jane's chest as she took in the sight before her. The black Cinderella-like dress with its intricate red accents was a striking choice that perfectly complemented (Y/N)'s allure. Jane's lips curved into a small, genuine smile as she recognized the dress as a creation from Marcus's impeccable taste. It seemed that even the reserved Volturi kings could not resist the allure of such an enchanting design.

(Y/N) moved with a grace that demanded attention, her every step exuding confidence and elegance. Jane's gaze lingered on the red accents, noting how they seemed to capture the light and create a luminous effect against the dark fabric. Her (h/c) hair was styled in a way that emphasized her beauty without overpowering it, and the makeup highlighted her delicate features.

The transformation was remarkable, turning (Y/N) into a vision that was hard to ignore. Jane's heart swelled with a mixture of emotions, a potent blend of pride and possessiveness. This was her mate, someone who had captured her heart and whose presence held an undeniable significance in her life.

As (Y/N)'s gaze swept across the room, Jane couldn't help but admire the way her eyes sparkled with curiosity and wonder. She was taking in the grandeur of the ballroom, a place that was undoubtedly foreign to her. Jane felt a desire to protect (Y/N) from the attention and scrutiny that came with being a part of the Volturi, even as she recognized (Y/N)'s inner strength.

The music resonated through the air, couples twirling and dancing to its rhythm. Jane's attention, however, remained solely on (Y/N). She watched as (Y/N) interacted with the other guests, her genuine smile and the ease with which she carried herself drawing people to her like moths to a flame.

In that moment, Jane was overcome with a sense of gratitude. She knew that finding a mate was a rare and precious gift, and having (Y/N) by her side was a privilege she cherished. As the night unfolded, Jane knew that this would be a memory she would hold onto—a memory of the night she watched her mate, resplendent in a black dress with red accents, make her mark in the world of vampires and within the depths of Jane's own heart.

Alec's gaze was unwavering as he stood at the edge of the ballroom, his typically calm demeanor masking the rush of emotions that surged within him. The anticipation in the air was almost palpable, the collective excitement of the guests adding to the electric atmosphere. And then, like a beacon of elegance and beauty, (Y/N) walked into the room.

His breath caught in his throat as his eyes locked onto her figure. The black Cinderella-like dress adorned with delicate red accents clung to her form in a way that seemed almost poetic. Alec's lips curved into a rare, genuine smile as he recognized the elegance of the dress as a creation of Marcus's meticulous design.

(Y/N)'s every movement was a symphony of grace, her steps measured yet exuding a confidence that drew all eyes toward her. Alec's gaze lingered on the red accents that seemed to come alive under the light, casting a mesmerizing glow against the backdrop of the night. Her (h/c) hair, styled with a touch of understated glamour, framed her face in a way that enhanced her natural beauty.

Alec's heart swelled with a mixture of emotions as he watched her. There was a sense of pride that she was his mate, a feeling of possessiveness that he had never experienced before. Her transformation was remarkable, turning her into a vision that was both captivating and enchanting.

(Y/N) turned her head slightly, her eyes scanning the room with a mix of curiosity and wonder. Alec's heart skipped a beat as he imagined what thoughts might be passing through her mind. She was stepping into a world vastly different from her own, and he couldn't help but feel an urge to shield her from the complexities that came with their world.

The music filled the air, couples swaying to its rhythm, but Alec's focus remained solely on (Y/N). He watched as she interacted with others, her genuine smile and engaging presence drawing people to her effortlessly. He admired her strength and warmth, traits that had won him over from the moment they had met.

As the night unfolded, Alec knew that this moment would remain etched in his memory. Watching (Y/N) navigate the intricacies of their world, dressed in the black and red ensemble that mirrored her grace and beauty, was a memory he would treasure forever. She was not only a part of his world but a part of his very soul, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude that fate had brought them together.

Felix's dark eyes remained fixed on the entrance to the ballroom, his usually composed demeanor betraying a subtle restlessness. He had heard the murmurs and sensed the excitement that hung in the air like static, announcing the arrival of a special guest. And then, as if emerging from the depths of his most cherished dreams, (Y/N) stepped into view.

A slow, appreciative smile tugged at the corners of his lips as his gaze traveled over her. The black Cinderella-like dress with its intricate red accents was a masterpiece that held his attention captive. Felix's usually stoic expression softened as he took in every detail—the way the dress clung to her figure, the red accents that seemed to shimmer like embers against the darkness.

(Y/N) moved with a regal grace, each step exuding a confidence that drew the eyes of everyone in the room. Felix's heart swelled with a mixture of pride and possessiveness as he watched her. This was his mate, the person who had captured his heart in a way that he had never thought possible. Her transformation was nothing short of breathtaking, a testament to the care and attention that had been poured into her appearance.

The (h/c) hair that framed her face was styled in a way that highlighted her features, enhancing her natural beauty without overpowering it. Felix's eyes lingered on the delicate details—the crimson crystals that adorned her hair, the makeup that accentuated her eyes and lips in a way that left him entranced.

As (Y/N)'s gaze swept across the room, Felix's heart skipped a beat. He admired the way she carried herself, the ease with which she engaged with the other guests. There was an air of curiosity and wonder in her eyes, as if she was seeing this world through a new lens. And in a way, she was. This was her introduction to the Volturi's grandeur, and Felix was both humbled and anxious to be a part of this pivotal moment in her life.

The music filled the air, couples swaying in time to its melody, but Felix's attention remained solely on (Y/N). He watched as she interacted with others, her presence commanding attention, her genuine smile captivating those around her.

With each passing moment, Felix felt an overwhelming surge of gratitude. This was the mate he had longed for, the one who completed him in ways he hadn't thought possible. As the night unfolded, he couldn't help but marvel at the image of (Y/N) dressed in the black and red ensemble, a representation of her beauty and the depth of their connection. This was a memory he would hold close, a moment in time that encapsulated the beginning of a new chapter in both their lives.

A sense of unity seemed to permeate the air as Alec, Jane, Felix, and Demetri exchanged glances, a silent understanding passing between them. Their posts were important, but this was a moment they couldn't let slip by unnoticed. As if guided by an unspoken agreement, they discreetly left their respective places and converged in a more secluded corner of the ballroom.

Alec's gaze held a soft intensity as he spoke first, his voice low and filled with genuine admiration. "You look breathtaking, (Y/N). The dress, the way you carry yourself—it's truly enchanting."

Jane's crimson eyes held a warmth that was rare for her, her lips curving into a genuine smile. "I must admit, I'm not one for compliments, but tonight you've managed to capture everyone's attention, including mine. You are a vision."

Felix's usually boisterous demeanor was replaced with a subdued reverence. "You've managed to stun even me, and that's saying something. The dress, the way you've carried yourself—it's as if you were made for this moment."

Demetri, who often wore a laid-back smile, looked at (Y/N) with a blend of fondness and pride. "You've brought a different kind of light to this event. It's like you've breathed life into the room, and I have to say, you've made quite the impression."

As (Y/N) listened to their words, her heart swelled with a mixture of happiness and gratitude. To have the attention and affection of these four individuals, each of whom was so integral to the Volturi, was a feeling that she couldn't put into words.

"Thank you," she replied, her voice filled with sincerity. "Your words mean more to me than you'll ever know."

Alec's lips curved into a small smile as he exchanged a look with the others. "We're not ones for public displays of emotion, but tonight is different. Tonight, we want you to know just how much you've enriched our lives."

Jane's gaze held a softness that spoke volumes, and Felix nodded in agreement. Demetri, always one for straightforwardness, offered a warm grin. "You're an exceptional addition to our family, and you've made this night unforgettable."

As they stood together, the Volturi guards and their mate shared a moment that transcended words—a connection forged by shared admiration and affection. And as the music played on, they returned to their respective posts, knowing that this night would forever remain etched in their memories as a testament to their unity and the strength of their bonds.

#x reader #x reader oneshot #x reader one shot #volturi imagines #the volturi #volturi imagine #volturi x reader #jane volturi #jane volturi x reader #alec volturi #alec volturi x reader #felix volturi #felix volturi x reader #demetri volturi #demetri volturi x reader #taking requests #requests #requested #twilight masterlist

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steddiebang2024 · 4 months ago

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we shut ‘em up, and then we shut ‘em down | Explicit | 41k

Author: @greatunironic

Artist: @redlegumes

[Link to fic] | [Link to Art Coming Soon]

Pairings: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Characters: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Corroded Coffin, Stranger Things Ensemble

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Street Racing, Enemies to Lovers, (Or Rather: Rivals to Lovers), Rivals With Benefits, Mutual Pining, Mutual Pining Even While Boning, Misunderstandings, Fast Cars, Dumb Boys, Car Chase, Injury, Service Top Eddie Munson, Beefcake Babygirl Steve Hours, Brat Steve Harrington, Shades of Power Bottom Steve Harrinton, Hand Jobs, Frottage, Car Sex, Hand Kink, Spit Kink, Panty Kink, Feminization, Oral Sex, Rough Sexm Semi-Public Sex, Injured Sex, Anal Sex

Trigger Warnings: No Warnings Apply

↳ Keep reading below for a summary!

Eddie Munson is a mechanic at his uncle’s sunny SoCal garage during the day; at night, he’s one of the most highly sought after mechanics for the street racing community as they race for pink slips, cash, and glory. He works on all the winningest cars, makes a killing in his bets and cuts with the racers for his work, and is generally just a top dog in this underworld scene — until some new hotshot out of Miami shows up, allegedly tight with racing legend Joyce Byers (or maybe that ex-cop squeeze of hers), and starts sniping wins from Eddie’s guys. He wants to hate him, and the suped up, hot pink Honda S2000 he rolled in on; it’s just too bad that he’s also just Eddie’s type: pretty, mean, and lethal behind the wheel.

He’s desperate to keep his wits about him and to keep this grudge going, but it’s fucking near impossible when it seems like him and Harrington can’t keep their hands off each other whenever they end up in the same darkened clubs to save their lives. And it’s maybe even worse than just a shitty crush, because, all the while, someone is causing trouble for the whole racing community when a trio of white Honda Civics start robbing eighteen wheelers of their cargo, bringing the heat down on all of them...

#steddiebang24 #steddie #steddie big bang #steddie fanfic #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddiebang24 masterpost

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afreakingdork · 7 months ago

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You Are My Sunshine, My Only Moonshine - Chapter 2

RotTMNT x Reader

Michelangelo is nothing but art in this chapter art by @kaysdenofchaos

Rated: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Michelangelo (TMNT)/Reader, Michelangelo (TMNT)/You, Donatello (TMNT)/Reader, Donatello (TMNT)/You

Warnings: POV Second Person, Gender Neutral Reader, Anxious Reader, Introverted Reader, Stuttering, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Romance, Love, Love Confessions, Falling In Love, Unrequited Love, Rejection, Aromantic Asexual Michelangelo (TMNT), Bisexual Donatello (TMNT), Pansexual Leonardo (TMNT), Lesbian Cassandra Jones | Foot Recruit, Demisexual April O'Neil (TMNT), Implied Cassandra Jones | Foot Recruit/April O'Neil/Sunita, Endgame Donatello (TMNT)/Reader, Romantic Love, Platonic Love, Panic Attacks, Sexuality Crisis, Agoraphobia, Social Anxiety, Happy Ending, Fluff

Synopsis: You’ve lost most of your life to anxiety and fear. Now, in your late 20s, you are desperate to reclaim it and during one such outing you encounter the sun personified. With his and his similarly celestially inspired family, will you finally reach your goal or will you lose yourself along the way?

Also available on Ao3

First 💛

Done on a whim, it was almost strange how right you’d been when comparing Mikey to the sun. He was a beaming hot star in the sky and he touched the land with his warmth, giving rise to life itself. For whatever reason he extended this beam to you and you were now what you dubbed as his outing friend. A term that was never spoken aloud and therefore not official, you only ever saw Mikey in the context of events. They were meant to thrust you into life and the sun, a gaseous ball that existed with or without you, happened to cast its life giving properties in your direction.

As such, the fear of sunburn, an easy retribution for more time in it, meant that your fraternization wasn’t always the best thing. Overall, the benefits of daily sun intake outweighed such things, but you wished you had been given more time to apply the protective balm necessary. Without aid, you were fast tracking social interactions at a near breakneck pace. Gone were the warm-ups or slow care you required to manage. Instead, Mikey barreled forward as an unrelenting force.

It started with that painting class. Your first invite, you hadn’t really taken into account when ‘next week’ was. Since Pasta Fest had occurred on a Friday, the text saying the class was Tuesday wasn’t technically incorrect, but only four days to prepare seemed absurd. It had taken you over a month to go out for Italian and that mental fortitude was built on an even longer stretch of yearning. Now, not only would you be denied a recovery time, but you also needed to get ready in the blink of an eye. The shortened shift balanced the scales as it was difficult to worry about the logistics of going when you didn’t even know what to wear. Having never painted in a class setting, you weren’t sure what was necessary from clothing to materials.

You had tried to text Mikey what details came with the class, but he was either oddly cagey about it or simply didn’t consider things from your perspective. The latter seemed more apparent as his responses came carefree on how not to worry followed by a sea of memes. It left you raiding your closet. Finding something loose that you wouldn’t mind getting paint on, you took it upon yourself to research the class. The internet told you little more than it was an introduction to oils, so you were left to self-soothe with an endless playlist of painting videos going non-stop until just before the class.

Meeting outside the school, Mikey appeared in casually cut clothes that fit his laid back attitude. Those pieces were then sparked with loud prints or colors that accentuated his bold flare. Tonight’s ensemble illustrated such with lightweight cotton pants that were enveloped by a fuzzy sweater swarmed with giant smiley faces on it. Trying not to think the little dot eyes of them were following you, you were ushered through the door and straight to the correct room without having a fact check once. His confidence knew no bounds as did his reach. He greeted the professor by their first name and you were quick to find that art was yet another field he mastered.

Whisked around the class, Mikey gave you the ins and outs and seemed to know almost every member on a personal level. Those he did not, he introduced you both to and it felt as though you were being shopped around to potential suitors. You were regaled in seemingly outrageous ways he had connected with these people in a way that made you question his career. While he insinuated he was a chef, he was spoken of like some kind of vigilante jack of all trades.

Unsure of what to do with that information, you had little time to dwell as you were set up at an easel. Class began and you were finally given time to breathe. Instruction meant paying attention which quieted other thought. You only now needed to focus on execution. Oil was a slow drying and therefore forgiving medium which meant things could be changed. As long as you didn’t blend too much then you had a chance to repair. As a class for those new to the medium, you were thankfully given a single color palette to avert such a mistake and found comfort in brush strokes blotting little trees.

You’d almost started to enjoy it when a swing of your arm knocked over a jar meant to clean brushes.

A large glass affair, it shattered and spread on to the floor along with your horror. Scrambling so no one would get hurt, you shot forward to pick up one of the largest shards when your foot hooked the easel. In an instant, everything was on the floor, from your painting face down in the muck to your paints which resisted the water but smeared nonetheless on the concrete.

There was also yourself. You’d fallen to your hands and knees where water and paint was rapidly seeping into your outfit. Though it was one you prepared to lose, this wasn’t anywhere near the road you thought would lead to it. A drop was one thing, but you were now as painted as Mikey’s sweater with the entire class staring to boot. Trying not to cry over spilled paints, you used the last of your dignity to at least gather those shards when a canvas shoe stepped right in front of you.

Looking up and feeling the wet sheen on your cheeks, Mikey looked down sympathetically before he dropped. With spread fingers, he swiped through the paints and danced straight through the shards. While he seemed to worry not, you scrambled along the ground to grab the glass amongst the teacher’s worries for both your safeties. You lost sight of Mikey outside of ballet-like spins over your head, but in the process acquired most if not all the glass.

When you finally rose dripping, he moved fluidly toward you and, in a spin and tip-toes, he brought you away from the mess. You both tracked paint, but after a quick trip to a trash can, Mikey released you. You then turned, now the right distance away to see a gorgeous swirling rainbow painted with your mess on the floor. Mikey had manipulated every bit of the spill into a large piece of artwork.

“Right! Sorry about that, Diane! I’m done taking over so let me clean this right up. There’s one of those squeegee brooms in the hall closet, I can just-”

Your head snapped to Mikey with the intent to exclaim on how he’d done this, but nothing came so he watched you with wide eyes until his lips rounded.

“…or we could see about hydro dipping? Not sure it’ll work with this mix, but I couldn’t help but notice that bunch of white shirts over there!” He pointed to where a box was laying half open with a cloth sticking out of it.

“You apologize, but you take over my class yet again.” The teacher, Diane you supposed, mused with her hands on her hips. “Alright, we’ll try it, but you’re replacing the product before the tie-dye class!”

“Of course!”

Switching gears as if this was always the plan, everyone moved their easels out of the way and the class shifted to a more physical one. Discussing the golden ratio and what made Mikey’s floor masterpiece alluring, the teacher went on while you were stuck staring at the mutant who didn’t seem to notice. You meant to follow along, but there was a mesmerizing intensity to the affection on his face.

Your next outing came as a Hockey game which you always knew was going to be a problem. When Mikey invited you, images of rowdy crowds and air horns filled your head. The ghosts of which echoed in your ears as you prepared your denial. Fingers flying over your phone’s keyboard, a text appeared in the awaiting window about how this game was hosted by the seemingly ambiguous family member who had stood him up for the painting class. It was intriguing enough to give you pause.

Another message appeared, this time with Mikey moving to guilt by saying that he alone would have to be her hype man. The other family members were too booked to support this one and your fingers further slowed. With his usual steadfast nature, more texts soon followed noting that the game was on a Wednesday night, meaning it would be slow, and that it was in the children’s league, so there would be barely be a crowd. On your last leg of escape, he’d added that you both could sit anywhere and you were done for as you erased your negating message to pen one that agreed.

In return, he was kind enough to suggest dressing warmly.

Settled in a hoodie and having only minorly debated more layers, Mikey appeared outside the rink looking nonplussed which quelled a few of your nerves. His hands were buried into a particularly brightly tie-dyed hoodie which made you think he had not only been true to his word about replenishing shirt stock, but he had also been in Mrs. Diane’s other class . Wondering just how many hobbies Mikey had, your curiosity vanished when he offered to prepare you for what lay inside.

Your heart soared.

With an upheld finger, Mikey warned that Casey would lead a chant at some point and he would signal you when. It would be a whole affair, but the phrase would be something obvious. There was a chance that a guy running the camera would inevitably point it at you because the operator liked to harass shy patrons. You were to stay still if you appeared on the screen and Mikey would take the heat off. Your concerns about air horns were validated, but you were assured they’d be closer to the ice and telegraphed.

Armed with knowledge, you entered through a pair of double doors and out along rink-side seats. Air cooled, but not enough to breathe smoke, Mikey led you up to a higher section with no one in it. About halfway up the back, you settled into a foldout seat and watched as kids skated around to warm up. Mikey whispered in your ear about which one was Casey and you found her to be a furious looking human woman with an undercut who would continually scream what sounded like battle cries. Trying and failing to ask Mikey exactly how she was related to him, the game started and an announcer came on.

The small crowd was a joyous one and you felt excited as the puck dropped. Sporting events weren’t something you ever attended because everything about them spelled anxiety induced doom, but in this setting it felt bearable. Everyone was shouting, especially the parents who had lined up rinkside, but you almost felt a cozy little barrier from them in your seat choice. In the snow globe, you were looking upon, Mikey was the painted sun in the corner trying to warm a nearly frozen day. Even as jack frost nipped your nose, you would be tempted out, just to soak up the ray where your life had been dreary for weeks.

You were mentally preparing to chance a cheer at the next point when a trumpet sounded to your right.

You jumped straight out of your seat at a height that caused it to fold back up. A drum then joined the horn and as you descended your bottom hit the chair’s lip. It then buckled so you could further drop and sprawl out. Your hands shot forward to grab the armrests in case you slid away and Mikey appeared over you, asking if you were alright. JHeart beating straight out of your chest, you only looked up at him with your lips about to part in a dry sob.

You thought Mikey might help you up, but you watched determination grow on his brow.

With a jump different from yours, he landed in a captain’s pose and looked out at the makeshift band. Spying them, he reached into his coat as if getting a telescope, but instead manifested a kazoo. He counted off with his teacher’s projection before playing a tune. Though the sound wasn’t near as loud as the instruments, something about Mikey’s command had caught the group’s attention. They quickly stopped their discordant sounds and picked up what had to be a known song for these events. You watched with warped awe as Mikey marched, without looking, overtop the armrests to lead the band. Only brave enough to sit up, you watched as the group’s spirits soared with their conductor.

Soon the music drifted to the ice where you heard Casey scream something about listening to the mystic warrior’s battle tune and rallied the kids to destroy their adversaries.

This then spurned the parents until everyone in the place was screaming after Mikey’s little chunk of plastic. The cacophony which should have suffocated you, instead made your heart race as it all felt like a grand escalation. Not the sign of the chant you’d been warned, but something else, a goal was scored just as the buzzer went off. The whole building erupted and, within only a single second of your confusion, Mikey lifted you clear off the ground to spin and explain that they won. Shouting back the question because you couldn’t believe it, he only reaffirmed before setting you down.

Quickly turning back to the ice, you found the kids all tackling each other in slips and slides before Mikey exchanged your body for your hand. You were pulled down to the rink where you didn’t have to fight the masses as they parted naturally for Mikey. Casey watched her kid’s dogpile approvingly and greeted Mikey by his color instead of his name. He introduced you and she immediately gave you a noogie. Crying in her arms over what social barrier you had mistakenly overstepped, she released the mess of you saying you were a good luck charm and she expected you at future games. Not sure how you’d handle that, you thankfully didn’t have to as more people appeared and the conversation moved away from your recurring attendance.

Exiting found you gushing to Mikey about everything you had seen.

He was uncharacteristically quiet as he listened attentively with his hands in his hoodie pockets.

Your event successes were then cosmically balanced as you were forced to then cancel the next two events in a row.

The first being glass blowing, you especially felt terrible as this was their last public event before they had some sort of big project that would require full use of their studio. Every day a week up until the event, you’d tried to first ignore and then fend off your oncoming cold, but it was too late. Whatever bacteria that had taken root in your body triggered a fever the day of and even when you tried to ready yourself with a mask just to power through, you’d nearly collapsed in a coughing fit.

It meant that a phone call cancellation was out of the question and, for once, you were the one to send Mikey walls of texts in the form of at least three dozen separate apologies.

There was the non-refundable ticket price.

Your last minute abandonment.

The way you’d destroyed his only chance to go.

Swimming in a commingling of snot and tears from the exchange, Mikey sent you an audio response. Stopping crying only because you were forced to, you played it to find his lips a little too close to the microphone as he told you it was fine for what you quickly caught on was the exact number of apologies you had sent to him. Dotting the message off confirming that, he told you that money wasn’t really a thing to his family and that there would always be a next time.

Quickly writing back that he should go without you, another message popped up just as you hit send.

The play button on that one had a continuation where he explained the time limit to the spoken messages and that he’d rather wait for you with some cheesy line about it being an excuse to still see you four months from now. Laughing and then immediately choking for it, you thanked him and ordered yourself some soup from a place he recommended.

One had been fine, but two felt like pushing it.

Recovery came slowly for you, but you did eventually get better. The only thing was not all your ailments were of the tangible variety. Though your body had been repaired, your mind wasn’t so lucky and it was with utter dismay that you had to cancel your next event, a pottery class, simply because it was a bad anxiety day. Waking up knowing you were already in for it, you spent the day toiling in and out of attacks until the thought of even texting him was too much. You’d left work early to crawl into your bed to face the sea of brain inducing zaps and could only offer him stunted cancellation without grounds.

It took hours, but the next time you were able to bear looking at your phone it seemed the only thing that had kept Mikey from coming to see if you were still alive was that he didn’t know your address. Sending exhausted reassurances, you resisted promising a reschedule because it currently seemed like an impossibility.

Now standing in the face of a rock climbing wall, you almost wished it had been.

Guilt was the only thing that had gotten you here. You had been clear with Mikey that sporting events themselves were already not your thing and you thought by extension that participating in them yourself fell into the same category. Seemingly not, he’d pressed, not quite about your prior cancellations, but referring to coming here as the perfect way to catch up after not seeing each other for so long. Miserable and forced to confirm your attendance based on your delinquency alone, Mikey tugged on your harness.

“All good! Try for the first few hand holds and I’ll keep watch!”

Looking back at him with obvious horror, he only gave a thumbs up in response.

Returning to the colorful wads of gum that marked where you grab, you dusted your hands with a fine powder for traction before catching the first and trying to hoist yourself up.

After three consecutive falls where you never made it more than a foot off the wall, you were ready to throw in the towel.

Completely unperturbed, Mikey was walking you through his seventh explanation of how to do it when you heard someone scoff right behind you. Flinching into the fake rocks and knowing exactly why, you wished you could cave the whole system in and bury yourself.

“Some people just aren’t made to climb!” The voice spat before you heard an aggressive slap of someone latching onto the wall a little too close to you.

Further shirking away and into Mikey, he didn’t offer the least bit of comfort as he rounded you. “Have you been climbing long?”

Eyes cracking open a little, you couldn’t believe how even Mikey’s voice was.

He almost sounded friendly.

“Years!” The man retorted proudly where he was somewhere up halfway already. “You have to understand. There should be kiddie hours and adult swim. Lately this place has been swarmed with newbies and they take up so much space!”

“That has to be frustrating, especially when you just want to climb.”

You stole a glimpse to find the offending man blink with a registration that his complaints had not only been noticed, but seemingly hadn’t been judged. “Yeah… I… work all day, ya know? I just want to burn off some steam somewhere where I can get some upper mobility!”

“I do.” Mikey nodded as if he were stuck in some dead end job.

Was that true?

What was happening?

One minute this guy hated your guts and the next he’s spilling his motives.

Mikey had only said a few words at most.

None of them seemed particularly targeted.

It was that way he had spoken.

He had some innate ability to manipulate exchanges to his favor.

If he wanted to make you feel welcome, you’d feel it the moment he spoke those words into reality.

Knowing the same had happened to you, you heard a holler and looked up to find both men now scaling the wall at an alarming degree. Mind spinning as Mikey wasn’t wearing a harness, the pair only gave a few grunts before Mikey leaped up and slapped a bell. You took two large stumbling steps back as Mikey then landed with a squat right next to where you had just been.

Mikey rose all too easily from where he’d just leapt 18 total feet.

Eyes blown wide, you stumbled toward him in a frantic check to make sure his bones weren’t out of place.

Mikey didn’t address you and instead threw up a radiant smile to the man still on the wall. “Told ya!”

“You win!” The guy laughed back down.

Scented with a certain amount of fear, you were filled in on the climbing competition that had been struck up and Mikey introduced the man with his first and last name. Unable to believe this was someone Mikey already knew, you quickly found out it wasn’t. Instead, in the short few seconds you were thinking everything over, Mikey had somehow contracted this man into his echelon of friends.

Watching the pair bump fists, you could only wonder how Mikey was real. He had to be some figment your imagination had come up with to cope with your constant fear. There was no way a man this incredible could both exist and want to be near you for any length of time. You were a speck compared to him and must have been a drag upon his very being.

You held him back.

You kept him down.

Why you?

You wondered that all the way out of the gym that day and beyond. The texts still came. Mikey still for all intents and purposes was only doing what he cared to do and that for some inane reason was continuing his friendship with you. When you’d met he’d said something about spoiling you, but you had figured that was some kind of warped joke.

Now. you wondered.

That intrigue only increased when he said he’d make up for the climbing incident with a low stakes board game night.

He was keeping your ability in mind for once and that had given you strength enough to agree. Apparently some local club had opened up their meet-ups for new contenders. It was exactly your sort of speed outside the new people to meet. They were contentious in your mind, but you had played many a board games in your years. It was a safe activity as long as the right board was chosen and the best low key way to hang out with the few friends you had. Never once having had a table flipped on you, you enjoyed the various rules enough and most known games stood the test of time. Wondering if you should bring one of your own, Mikey texted you to wait to see how it goes though he liked your eager attitude.

Telling him you were going to crush it, you only wished now that you hadn’t allowed yourself to get so cocky. Something you should have known by the way their ad had been worded. These people weren’t playing Monopoly. They were playing intricate games that spanned lifetimes in which you had to manage literal civilizations while also plotting conquest of nations. There were pandemics to avoid and zombie outbreaks to survive. Each game lengthy and with a set of rules the size of a novel, you struggled through the first game before the overwhelmingness of it all caught your throat.

Silence found you trapped as the other players screamed at each other. You had been thrust into a cooperative form of a game that had once been about beating each other out on tokens. Not sure when the switch had occurred, a second lengthy rule book had emerged and you were trying to parse out the totally new set of rules when it was ripped from your hands. You were told to learn as you went and no amount of mumbling your confusion swayed the other players. Not knowing what you were doing, one of your decisions had led to your ultimate demise. Whatever was happening now, it seemed the gist was that in two turns everyone would lose and it had all come to fruition based on a move you had taken what seemed like hours ago.

Though no one had actually attacked you personally for it, they had brought up your move over and over as they desperately tried to strategize a way to still win.

“This was why I said we shouldn’t open the game nights up…”

The remark had been passive.

One meant for the person next to the commenter.

Not for your ears, but you’d heard it.

It had somehow cut through the rabble rousing and you sank so far down in your chair until you nearly folded in half.

Mikey’s silence wasn’t helping.

He’d also written you off.

You knew you shouldn’t rely on him to save you every time, but he was your guiding light.

Wasn’t it an unspoken agreement that he would take charge?

You’d told him about your troubles first thing.

He had a front row seat to your spirals.

He also never stepped in until damage was done.

Had that been intentional?

He had so much on his plate, how could you expect him to notice everything?

You didn’t.

This was a board game.

Not the end of the world.

There’d be more games.

Not all were easy to win.

There were no stakes.

You just wouldn’t ever come to this particular group again.

That was fine.

There were millions of people in New York.

Ready to call it an early night, a voice cut through the arguing.

“What if I use my movement to return to Costa Rica?”

All heads at the table swiveled to Mikey, who had a finger curled under his chin as he stared at the board.

“That’s insane!”

“Back to…?”

“Wait…”

“Grab the rules!!”

Staring from the outside in, you watched the table erupt as planning switched gears. Someone announced it was possible and from there they began to bicker over what little chance that gave them. Finding a sliver of hope, they grabbed a paper and drew out the steps just in case. If followed exactly it would be a winning combination and they went through the motions with only a few dice rolls standing in their way. Clearing them as if on fate, the whole table rocketed upwards to congratulate each other.

A single tear slid down your face.

How did he always do that?

You hated yourself for thinking less of Mikey. You should have known better than to imagine him regretting bringing you to make him the fool. He didn’t think like that. The Mikey you had come to know was the sun. He continued to scorch the earth even when she put up her defenses. Just above atmosphere, he burned unperturbed. His sheer desire to be alive and live was indomitable. It was that fight that had taken him to calculated silence. He waged his celestial war in the quiet of his mind. Looking for that one little shred of hope, the ones he somehow always got his fingers on, he yanked the tapestry of life and rewove it to how he saw fit.

You were a joke.

His complete opposite in every possible way.

All you did was give up.

Run away.

Quietly getting up while the others drilled Mikey on how he’d done it, you left. Going straight home, you avoided Mikey’s texts for the next few weeks. Not strong enough to quit him completely, you did read all of them at nearly all hours which held its own culpability. He surely saw all your read receipts and you almost wished it would sour his opinion of you. Maybe then he would finally move on and you could start this process anew. You should have known better than to think you could hitch your wagon to someone else’s. You were supposed to venture out alone. This process had been about you wanting to do more. Mikey was too selfless for his own good. He didn’t realize he was dragging himself down. The space would help.

The only problem was, it didn’t.

Mikey didn’t seem to care that you never responded. He moved forward tenaciously and even invited you out two more times. You’d scorned the messages, but time had done something to you. You reflected on how surreal it all was. You’d warped your image of Mikey without realizing it. You’d given him godlike command over others. You thought him some kind of manipulator that could get anyone to do his bidding. It felt comical. A rewind found him instead ignorant of scorn or even happiness. He simply forged his own path so authentically that others couldn’t help to be drawn in no matter what their side. You swore he must have the ability to turn even the most speciesist person over into a mutant advocate given the chance.

He was your idol.

That skirted more tedious titles, but you refused to put him on a pedestal. It was because of his failings that he now appeared an achievable image. He was the golden standard of what you wished you could be. He was utterly immune to social anxiety and you craved the pride in which he held himself. He still retained his sun moniker, but now it was one of a laissez-faire ruler. Life may have proliferated from him, but not because of him. There were other powers at work, but his status was attainable. You could mimic him like a lowly sunflower that had forced its way through the concrete. You could move with him. You could catch his rays as he passed you by.

The only thing you couldn’t figure out was what he got out of it. The him that was a person should have written you off as a moot point, but he hadn’t given up. Messages continued to roll in. The negative thoughts said he should have long ago, but another argued that you were yet another thing he chose to fight for. When you had seen him, he hadn’t shied away one bit. He’d thrown himself and, by proxy, you into each foray and fixed the outcome if it wasn’t to his liking.

He never once complained.

He’d told you it was fine hundreds of times.

He hadn’t dismissed your feelings.

He’d tried to reroute them.

Staring at your phone for yet another sleepless night, you saw he asked if you wanted to try something low-key next. His next few messages seemed to indicate that he thought maybe you’d been overwhelmed and had needed to take a step back. He said that he understood and mentioned something about two of his brothers who experienced the same thing. Promising only the utmost comfort by going to see a movie, you could only think he was too bright and that wasn’t just because your phone’s brightness was the only thing illuminating your dark room.

He was still singeing you.

The little burns would pile up.

The warmth was also undeniable.

Whatever it was he saw in you though, you were thankful for it. Whether he was oblivious or his spirit was something ethereally burning, your absence wasn’t one he worried over. In contrast, you felt a dangerous flicker as you pondered how easy it would be to take advantage of him. As you’d seen time and time again, once he decided something, he rolled with it. It didn’t matter how you and others treated him; he wanted to see the best in others.

Heart sinking, you wondered how many people had hurt him. It had to be impossible because he could turn anyone into his fan with only a few choice words, but there was still a chance.

You didn’t want that from him.

You: Aren’t you worried?

Chef: About what?

You waited for the inevitable message asking why you hadn’t responded, but it never came.

You: That I might not be a good person?

You watched the bubbles percolate before dozens of messages started to flood on your screen. Some testimonials and mostly things he felt, he dismissed your claims in his usual motormouth way. In or out of the digital world, you had always loved to listen. It took the conversational burden off of you and Mikey was made for that. Even if it was clear he sometimes missed your responses, you couldn’t be mad because he shared the whole of himself. To you it only felt like the pittance to pay in order to stand in his glory. You were gaining so much from him; there was no way you could question your guide. From how far you’d come and all the things you’d done, the night you met almost seemed like a distant memory.

Going alone had taken months of preparation.

In that same time frame, you’d done more with Mikey than you’d done in your entire life.

Isn’t that what the movies taught?

People were stronger together.

How could you return to a world without him there with you?

You: When and where did you want to do the movie?

You: Is there a theater near both of us?

You: Or would that be too much?

You: I realize now that I don’t know where you live…

You: Don’t feel like you have to tell me!

You: Also

You: Thank you

How could you make it mean more?

Two words didn’t sum up how you felt.

About him finding you.

About him continuing to see you.

About him not giving up on you.

You could say it.

You could show it.

After a light discussion ironing out the specifics, a time slot was booked and plans were set. For all intents and purposes, everything had returned to normal, but this time you were prepared. You were going to be worthy of his time. A student with a gold star, you did your best to keep up with his messages until the day of. Meeting after work, Mikey offered to walk you to the theater as what he phrased as your bodyguard. Laughing at the imagery of him bouncing your bad thoughts away, he mentioned where he’d be arriving from which was an approximation of his address.

When you looked it up it had been a block with what you thought were empty buildings.

You couldn’t put it past Mikey to have some sort of kitschy bobby like flipping houses. You wondered where and when he picked up carpentry when you emerged from your apartment to find him right on time waiting out front. Greeting you easily, you started down the street and made it a few blocks before he stopped dead. Not as quick as him, you made it a few more feet before you turned to find him patting himself down in a flurry. Arms moving faster than you could track, he went a new shade of pale green under the streetlamp.

“I left my phone at home!”

Going on high alert, you fumbled for yours. “Y-you h-have the t-tickets, b-but I think… um…? D-did you… send me a c-copy?”

“Did I!?” He appeared over your shoulder to look down at your device as he turned his pockets out.

“O-Oh…” You scrolled through the texts and found he’d only told you the details. “No…”

He clicked his tongue. “Ugh! So dumb!! I left my wallet too!”

“M-maybe you c-could login with m-my-”

“Let’s swing by my place, it’ll only take a second.” He groaned to the sky.

Startling to attention, you stuttered nonsense.

From the area he gave you, it wasn’t far, but it certainly wasn’t close.

If you headed there and backtracking then you’d be cutting it close to the movie time.

“Come on! It’s this way!” He gestured and took few leading steps backward.

Your phone seemed to complain about the time, but the impatient thunk of his shoes moved you to follow him.

You were curious about what he described as a lair.

The oddest choice when it came to nicknaming your house, he went on about how their last place was blown up before they found this one. Unable to place whatever reference he was making, a few turns took you to a less populated area. Nervously sticking close to your light, you descended a dirty old stairwell to where a door was chained up. With what looked like a wave of his hand, Mikey undid the metal and opened the entrance with a sweeping gesture. Staring into a black abyss, you made a nervous sound which caused Mikey to look up.

Seeing what he’d opened to, he laughed at himself. “Kinda horrifying when you haven’t memorized the steps. Let’s use your phone’s flashlight.”

Doing that in a few clicks, he hopped ahead after locking the door back up and, for a moment, you thought the worse. Trapped down where no one would ever find you, Mikey could have been playing some long con and you were about to disappear for good. Not wanting that, you trembled a little as Mikey continued forward. He whistled a jaunty tune and left you without choice. You scrambled after him as he led you down to an old subway station where he jumped down onto the rails. Overlooking the drop yourself, you found him holding his hands up as if to catch you.

“Don’t worry! I’ve got you and this old thing’s out of service. The access door is literally right around the corner from here!”

You decided that if you were going to die at least your final moments had been interesting.

Doing what had to be the worst leap, Mikey caught you with ease and set you down as if he’d done that a hundred times. His lackadaisical show of strength came as an auspicious one. If he wasn’t out to kill you, he could surely protect you. As if reading your thoughts, he filled the empty air with talk security in place. From what had to be jokes about lasers to something about surveillance, you wondered who would ever want to hurt Mikey.

You were left guessing as, true to his word, it had been a short walk to said entrance.

Mikey gave another bowing offer by opening the door for you and you were led through a set of contrastingly well lit tunnels. It spoke of life even if the space was barren and you headed toward what appeared to you as a subway depot. A place where cars were stored for later, there were several laid out on various tracks and soft fairy lights strung over nearly every part of the ceiling.

“Welcome to the turtle all-in-one super lair!” Mikey spun away from you with his hands in the air.

Unable to keep your eyes in one spot, you saw gorgeous graffiti layered on the walls and that the place was tidy though clearly lived in. Mikey went on a new tangent about how the cars had been retrofitted into rooms and how one day, when he had more time, he would show you the kitchen. Not anywhere near processing his words, you were left as he politely excused himself to get his missing items.

Hang tight, he said.

You could spend hours here, as if in a museum, and not see everything.

You thought you responded, but your mouth hung open at the expanse. You gaped as you traced the architecture to where an atrium opened up and revealed three stories. Stairs moved around like an Escher painting and you could only imagine their limitless possibilities. They breathed life and soft music poured down the steps closest to you. Wandering closer to take a peek, you found faint light was also escaping from what had to be a television.

You had already chosen to stop when a sharp silhouette interrupted the glow.

What had Mikey told you?

You couldn’t remember, but you felt like you were snooping.

It was on that instinct that you ducked behind the brick archway.

Steps soon matched the shape that moved at a leisurely pace.

Your heart beat a nervous clock when you saw a blue-coded turtle.

You placed him instantly.

Mikey loved photographs.

This was Leonardo.

He hit the landing with bowed legs as he walked and read a comic at the same time.

You were very much gawking.

He was slow to stop and, when he did, he took a deep breath.

His head then snapped to your direction with sharpened focus. “Yeah, maybe you missed the no soliciting sign, but…!”

Comic gone, he was all blue light and swords.

You flailed frantically. “I’m with Mikey!!”

Cold steel stopped inches from your face and Leonardo’s whole demeanor shifted. “Oh, wait! Y/N? Didn’t you two have a movie tonight?

“H-h-h-h-he f-f-f-forg-got h-h-his w-w-w-allet…!!!” You didn’t think you could manage the another word.

“H-h-h-huh.” Leo remarked back, not quite mocking. “You cold or something? Don’s got the temp set to something good I thought.”

With a shrug, his weapons disappeared in another flash.

Star.

This man was a shooting star.

He burned with flashes of ferocity so bright you had to turn away.

From what you’d been told, he commanded even more.

From what you could see, you bet he could also disappear just as well as his swords.

Unable to get a steady voice, your gaze hit the floor.

You felt Leo continue to evaluate you. “You good?”

You nodded.

He’d think you were insane.

Your actions didn’t sync up with your lack of words at all.

You felt him smile more than you saw it. “Did Mikey ever tell you about the time he got his skateboard stuck in a sewer grate?”

Blinking a few times, you were shy to peer at Leo. “M-mikey.. .skateboards?

Leo’s wicked grin split his face. “We all did.”

You watched on with growing interest.

“I can’t believe I put my wallet in the microwave again!” Mikey clambered down the stairs.

“-and that’s why Mikey was the last of us to be potty trained!”

You giggled from behind your hand.

“Nope!!!” Mikey screeched on the last step. “Leo, what are you doing!?!”

“You left your friend here all alone!” Stepping through the large space Leo had given you, the blue turtle moved behind you to gently take each of your upper arms as if to show you off. “I was entertaining our guest! Being a good host! Filling them in on all your most embarrassing memories! Normal stuff!”

You chewed your lip to keep from laughing.

“They’re lies!!! All of them!! Lies!!!” In a fit of anxiety you watched Mikey claw around him.

Where there was nothing, he caught something and he ripped the air with a tear of orange light.

Life force leaving you, you felt Leo’s grip tighten as Mikey shoved through the hole he’d somehow created.

You didn’t hear the second rip as much as you saw it appear next to you.

Mikey then walked out of it and into your face. “What did he tell you!?”

You gasped like a fish taking its last breath.

A ominous shadow appeared, casting darkness over Mikey’s overly wound form.

Only you looked up to find a hulking red turtle that you knew to be Raphael.

The eldest used the whole of his hand to grab Mikey’s shell.

He then lifted the turtle straight into the air, away from you, while you leaned so far back into Leo that you thought you’d be on the ground otherwise.

“You’re making a racket! Both of you cut it out! You’re freaking people out!” Raph huffed and you couldn’t shake how he was at least ten times the size that he appeared in any photo you’d ever seen of him. “Sorry about that. Y/N, right? I’m Raph, nice to meet’cha!”

This was their ground.

Large and all encompassing, this man had to be their rock.

Not just because he was big enough to support all of them on his carapace, in that sense he was the size of the Earth, but because his very essence oozed compassion.

You imagined he worked twice as hard as Sisyphus.

“That being said…” Raph dropped his scolding for a snicker. “Which story did you go with, Lee? Potty training?”

Mikey screamed and fought his air jail.

He was also very much a big brother.

“Oh yeah!” Leo cooed triumphantly. “And the bull story and the skateboard-gum incident!”

Flames exploded and Raph flicked his hands as if bacon grease had splattered up at him.

Once again, Leo was your cane as you watched Mikey shake off being on actual fire like it was a few measly water droplets.

“No more!!!” Once doused, Mikey caught you and pulled you straight away from Leo.

Crashing into his hard plastron you heard Leo and Raph chorus for Mikey to be careful.

“We have to go! Movie starting and all!” Mikey screamed to the ceiling.

“We haven’t all introduced ourselves!” Raph added, sounding a bit sad.

“Speak for yourself.” Leo rolled his eyes.

“Did you? Or did you launch straight into humiliatin’ our lil bro?” Raph’s brow ridge rose under his mask.

“Hey look, there’s Donnie!” Leo waved just as Mikey yanked on your arm trying to get you away.

You looked over to where a fourth, purple clad turtle had just descended the stairs. Caught like a wild animal on film, he was the picture of a gremlin. Hunched forward, goggles down, in a stained hoodie, and holding an ungodly sandwich with a calories count the likes of which you had never seen from a home kitchen, the man only reviewed Mikey with a sort of tepid affection before staring you down with what you could only identify as malice.

Mikey released you and jumped the distance to tackle the new brother.

Donnie dropped his hatred for a smile and twisted around so his sandwich would remain unharmed as he caught his younger brother.

If that wasn’t a reflection of the sun, you didn’t know what was.

With a cold icy exterior that sat in the dark expanse of space, Donatello had to be the moon in your little cosmic parallels.

Mikey nuzzled his cheek to Donnie’s and, with his free arm, the older brother carried the younger back over.

That gaze, merciless and seemingly ever-present, Donnie glowered at you all the way until he deposited Mikey by your side.

“I knew you had a face only pops could love, but damn Don, if you keep mean muggin’ like that and you’re gonna lose your last fan!” As soon as Mikey was gone, Leo tried to slot himself against the purple man.

Donnie looked like he had a retort, but he bit down on it to sidestep at the last second and caused the blue brother to fall onto his face.

Raph’s large hands dragged down his cheeks so hard that it peeled his lower lids. “Why can we never get through introductions!?”

“Because you don’t take threats seriously.” Donnie turned from an outright glare in your direction to a stewing nature towards the oldest.

“Now hold on!” Raph threw an annoyed finger in Donnie’s face. “Raph is the king worrier! You all know that. Right, Mike?”

“Raph has the worry crevice.” Mikey nodded.

“Right!” Raph started and then spun around, offended. “Wait! No! Not this again!”

“Told ya!” Leo pumped his fists from where he was still on the ground, now reclined as if he’d always been that way.

Mikey mentioned villains.

It had been a joke, right?

Mikey mentioned calamities.

That was just New York.

Mikey mentioned powers.

He had the emotional prowess of a psyhcologist.

Mikey had mentioned so many, many things.

Mikey had said so much.

Too much.

None of it had felt real.

Mikey had a penchant for exaggeration.

It only hit you then.

These were the heroes who saved New York.

They saved the planet.

They’d been a rumor.

They’d then been famous.

Fame tapered off.

They had returned to whispers.

Taking a step back from them all, you felt precariously placed.

You weren’t supposed to see this.

Mikey had ripped through space-time and you were now supposed to go see a movie with him.

You couldn’t imagine sitting next to him for two odd hours knowing what he could do.

He’d combusted into flames.

Leo had reached through space as well.

What could the others do?

Had Mikey told you?

They were so strong.

Your earlier thoughts of disappearing reared their head.

They couldn’t just kill you, they could eradicate you.

Stumbling slightly, words trickled off your lips. “I-I’m here because M-Mikey… w-wants me to be...”

Why had you said that?

Were you trying to convince yourself?

Did you believe that?

“Oh-me-gosh!” Mikey gasped and, in two skipping steps, he hugged you. “Y/N! You said it! You actually said it! No pity or anything!”

You nodded against him, feeling your body wilt as your brain rallied about what he was capable of.

Spinning up off the floor, everything blurred. “You’ve come so far! I’m so proud!! Good job, good job!!”

You saw snippets of the others as if time stopped when you passed them.

Raph smiling in a knowing way.

Leo grinning mischievously.

Donnie’s grimace.

A sound came from Mikey’s phone and he took the time to set you down methodically before grabbing it. “The movie! We’re so late! Oh man!! The credits are gonna start!! I wanted to see what’s coming soon!”

Leo sat up, rolling his shoulders in a stretch. “What’s the address?”

“One million Run of the Mill pizzas to you good sir!!!” Mikey cried happy tears and dropped to a knee that honored the glory of his brother.

“If only your tab wasn’t already worth ten lifetimes!” Leo bemoaned as with a flick, there was a sword back in his hand and he sliced open a large blue disc right into the air.

“Eh, I’ll serve my sentence eventually.” Mikey laughed brightly as he tugged you through and you both appeared right in front of the movie theater. You had to take a moment not to throw up.

💛NEXT💛

Always shouting out my beats @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

#sunshinemoonshinefic #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt Michelangelo #rise Michelangelo #Michelangelo hamato #rottmnt mikey #rise mikey #rise mikey x reader #rottmnt mikey x reader #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction

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yoannlossel · 3 months ago

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Nous présenterons ce livre vendredi à la Bibliothèque de Saint-Brieuc (détails plus bas : [FR]).

[ENG] Here is the Arts & Crafts version, entirely handcrafted, of my art book Forgotten Gods. We printed it with Psyché, using our own presses on Vélin d'Arches paper. Each design in the book was then screen-printed by hand with gold and colored inks, with up to five different screen-printing passes depending on the complexity of the pages.

Once the sheets were folded and gathered into signatures, Sophie Charlot, a Meilleur Ouvrier de France, meticulously bound them by hand. Belfea Archerie created all the leather parts and applied the dyes. Together, we assembled the covers on the book bodies bound by Sophie, and I gilded the cover with gold leaf (using three different shades of 22-23k gold).

Finally, I made the wooden cases and covered them with fabric. We then attached the clasp and the repoussé leather medallion, dyed by Belfea and gilded by me.

All the illustrations were printed using our presses; they are fine art prints on velvet-finish paper. With Psyché, we enhanced about thirty of them with gold (using several shades of 22-23k gold) to match the appearance of the original artworks. These illustrations were then hand-glued and protected with tracing paper, also hand-glued by Psyché and me.

King of Gods has represented a significant part of my work in recent years. It has been a passionate and enriching adventure, in the true spirit of the Arts & Crafts movement and in the footsteps of the Kelmscott Press. Thank you to everyone who worked on this book.

---

[FR] Ce vendredi, à 18h30, à la Bibliothèque de Saint-Brieuc, nous animerons une table ronde avec Psyché Ophiuchus, Belfea Archerie et Sophie Charlot. Nous y parlerons de notre travail et présenterons cet exemplaire exceptionnel de Forgotten Gods, que nous avons réalisé ensemble, de manière artisanale.

Voici la version Arts & Crafts, entièrement réalisée à la main, de mon livre d'art Forgotten Gods. Nous l'avons imprimé avec Psyché, avec nos propres presses, sur du papier Vélin d'Arches. Chaque motif du livre a ensuite été sérigraphié par nos soins avec des encres dorées et colorées, jusqu'à cinq passages de sérigraphie différents selon la complexité des pages.

Une fois les feuilles pliées et rassemblées en cahiers, Sophie Charlot, Meilleur Ouvrier de France, s'est chargée de les relier méticuleusement à la main. Belfea Archerie a réalisé toutes les parties en cuir, ainsi que leurs teintures. Nous avons monté ensemble les couvertures sur les corps de livres reliés par Sophie, et j'ai doré la couverture à la feuille d'or (avec trois nuances différentes d'or 22-23 carats).

Enfin, j'ai fabriqué les coffrets en bois et les ai recouverts de toile. Nous avons pu fixer le fermoir et le médaillon en cuir repoussé et teint par Belfea, que j'avais également doré à l'or.

Toutes les illustrations ont été imprimées avec nos presses ; ce sont des tirages d'art fin sur du papier au fini velours. Avec Psyché, nous en avons rehaussé une trentaine à l'or (plusieurs nuances d'or 22-23 carats différentes) pour restituer le rendu des œuvres originales. Ces illustrations ont finalement été collées à la main, et protégées par un calque, également collé à la main par Psyché et moi-même.

Le King of Gods a représenté une partie importante de mon travail ces dernières années. Cela a été une aventure passionnante et très enrichissante, dans la pure tradition des Arts & Crafts et dans l'esprit de la Kelmscott Press. Merci à toutes les personnes qui ont travaillé sur ce livre.

#yoannlossel #yoann lossel #book #art nouveau #gold art #art #fantasy art #gold #fineart #collector

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spnsabrielbang · 6 months ago

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we sons of hell and heaven

─ ⋅ ⋅ ─ Author & Artist ─ ⋅ ⋅ ─ @gay-destiel (AO3: Kyra_Maximoff) & @crossroads-consoul ─ ⋅ ⋅ ─ Rated ─ ⋅ ⋅ ─ Teen and Up Audiences ─ ⋅ ⋅ ─ Word count ─ ⋅ ⋅ ─ 15,101 words (116.2 minute read) ─ ⋅ ⋅ ─ Warnings ─ ⋅ ⋅ ─ No Major Warnings Apply ─ ⋅ ⋅ ─ Tags ─ ⋅ ⋅ ─ Implied/Referenced Torture, Aftermath of Torture, Hurt/Comfort, That's Not How Angel Grace Works, Angst, Gabriel Has Trauma (Supernatural), Gabriel Has PTSD (Supernatural), Sam Winchester Has Trauma From Lucifer's Cage, Dean and Cas Are Obviously In Love And Everyone But Them Knows It, Gabriel Has Golden Wings (Supernatural), lots of hugs, Michael And Raphael Are There. For. Like. One Flashback, Lucifer Snuck Into This ─ ⋅ ⋅ ─ Characters ─ ⋅ ⋅ ─ Sam Winchester, Gabriel, Team Free Will, Archangels Ensemble ─ ⋅ ⋅ ─ Relationships ─ ⋅ ⋅ ─ Gabriel / Sam Winchester, Castiel / Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Castiel & Gabriel, Gabriel & Lucifer & Michael & Raphael

─ ⋅ ⋅ ─ Summary ─ ⋅ ⋅ ─

When Gabe escapes capture from a powerful coven of witches, his broken wings take him to Sam Winchester. Now Sam has to deal with an injured archangel, an untrusting brother, and somehow his trauma with Lucifer.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ─ Excerpt ─ ⋅ ⋅ ─ With a stuttering breath, Sam stumbles back. His heart leaps into his throat and the angel blade wavers in his hand. It’s… but it can’t be… “Gabe?”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ─ [ FIC ] <-║-> [ ART ] ─ ⋅ ⋅ ─

support banner from [HERE] || SPN divider from [HERE]

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hiddenincommand · 4 months ago

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An Experience of Command: Going Commando in My Leather Uniform

As with every day, I begin by selecting the uniform that defines my presence. The familiar scent of polished leather fills the room as I pull on my signature fall-fronted breeches. Every piece of this uniform has been custom-made to my specifications, ensuring that it fits like a second skin, reflecting my status as the master of my world. My high riding boots, sleek and authoritative, complete the ensemble, rising just below my knees, adding height and presence to every step I take.

I always go commando beneath my leather breeches. There is no need for unnecessary layers; they only serve to dilute the sensation and the power I derive from being as unencumbered as possible. Without undergarments, I feel the leather’s grip on my body even more intensely. It’s a constant reminder of the freedom and control I possess over myself and my environment.

The fall front of my breeches is, of course, perfectly tailored. It sits flush against my body, but designed so that it barely conceals what lies beneath. With every stride, it shifts slightly, offering just enough exposure to remind anyone watching of my dominance. The custom cock ring I wear ensures that everything is positioned perfectly, framing my masculinity right behind the fall front, ready to be revealed at my discretion. This balance between concealment and revelation is no accident—it is an intentional demonstration of the power I wield.

Mastering the Swagger and Strut

Walking through public spaces in my leather uniform is more than just a physical act—it is a statement of my superiority. I have perfected the art of the strut. Every step is deliberate, every movement calculated to exude confidence and control. My high riding boots strike the ground with authority, the leather of my breeches creaking ever so slightly, signaling to anyone paying attention that I am a man in command of his environment.

With each step, the fall front shifts just enough to provide a glimpse of what lies beneath. It is a subtle, controlled display of my freedom. I do not need to flaunt it—my presence alone speaks volumes. Those who dare to notice quickly understand that I operate on a different level, one where the rules that bind lesser men do not apply to me. I am free, unbound, and unapologetic in my dominance.

The Role of Public Display in Alpha Dominance

In the public sphere, I wear my freedom without shame. The act of going commando beneath my fall-fronted leather breeches is a testament to my confidence and authority. I do not hide behind layers of clothing; instead, I embrace the raw sensation of leather on skin, knowing that I am fully in control of what others may or may not see.

When I walk, I make no effort to conceal the subtle movements of the fall front. The design itself is a challenge to convention—a hint of exposure, never too much, but always enough to remind those who witness it that they are in the presence of someone who commands with ease. I am not beholden to the same restrictions as others. My ability to wank in public, to flaunt my freedom, is not about rebellion—it is about mastery.

The combination of my high riding boots and perfectly tailored leather breeches reinforces this message. Each element of my uniform, from the polished leather to the fall front that just barely covers what lies beneath, is an extension of my authority. I am not bound by the same rules as others, and I carry that freedom with me in every step I take.

The Perfection of Unapologetic Display

The true power of going commando in my leather uniform lies in the precision of the experience. There is no need for excessive display—just the hint of exposure is enough to assert my dominance. The fall front, by design, allows for the perfect balance between concealment and revelation, always leaving enough to the imagination but never fully hiding what is there.

I have honed this art to perfection. Every time I adjust my stance, every step I take, is calculated to create a subtle display of my masculinity. It is not about shocking those around me—it is about controlling the narrative. I decide when and how much others are allowed to see, and I do so with absolute confidence.

Wearing my leather uniform without undergarments is not a trivial decision—it is an embodiment of who I am. My swagger, my strut, the way the fall front shifts with every movement, all contribute to the experience of dominance that I carry with me. I walk without shame because I have nothing to hide. I am in control, and I ensure that everyone who encounters me understands that fact without a word being spoken.

Personal Comment from Sir Cedric

To go commando beneath my signature leather uniform is to embrace my ultimate freedom. Every movement is deliberate, every detail of my attire designed to remind the world that I am the master of my body and my surroundings. The fall front of my breeches, combined with the sensation of leather against my bare skin, is a daily reminder that I operate without shame or hesitation. I control the exposure, I control the narrative, and I do so with a confidence that cannot be shaken. Whether through the subtle shift of the fall front or the authoritative click of my riding boots, I command every space I enter. This is the essence of power: control in every moment, every stride, and

#power #authority #command #discipline #leadership #leather master #leather uniform #mastery #leather gear #leather #absolute dominance #dominance #true dominance #alpha mindset #alpha master #alpha man #alpha confidence

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x-i-l-verify · 8 months ago

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Title: After All, This Is Who We Are Fandom: Dream SMP Rating: Teen Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: Gen Characters: Dream, BadBoyHalo, Skeppy, Technoblade, Philza, ItsAlyssa, Awesamdude, Dream SMP Ensemble Status: complete Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dehumanization, Fantasy Racism, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Relationships, Hugs, Headcanons, Worldbuilding

Summary:

In a timeline where Players are not whitelisted to the Dream SMP until they reach the age of majority, there is no drug van, no L'Manberg, no Doomsday, no Disc Finale, and no Pandora's Vault. However, in the aftermath of Sapnap's latest bout of trouble-making, the Egg awakens and establishes its empire, and despite the server's admin debugging the virus down to bedrock, the Dream SMP now has a brand-new public enemy number one. (or: Due to one simple rule change at the Dream SMP's creation, BadBoyHalo is now the reviled and distrusted villain of the server instead of Dream.)

link to fic

link to my BigBang partner's art

I wrote a thing for the @dreblr-gen-big-bang! Took me 3 and a half months but I did it. ;v;d Pls go check it out if it sounds cool to you.

#dreblr #dreblrbigbang #dreblr gen big bang #dream smp fanfiction #c!badboyhalo #c!dream #c!skeppy #c!techno #c!Alyssa #c!philza #c!sam #xi writes #dream smp #wrong villain au

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nyctorune · 2 years ago

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Izumi Sena & Leo Tsukinaga x a messy, messy gn!artistic reader

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Synopsis: How would Izumi and Leo act with a partner who’s a tragically messy artist with extra messy on the side.

Tw? Unless you find fluff and pretend constant disappointment absolutely mortifying, there’s none!

Author note: I’ve fallen down the bottomless pit of Knights yet again and now i’m writing x reader fanfic to quell my depressing thirst for fictional idols. I don’t think the bible approves of me guys-

—————————————————————

- Izumi Sena -

- Oh great, ANOTHER Leo. At least you’re not running around at the dead of night getting lost and losing your phone…. Right? RIGHT?!?

- He loves you! He does! It’s just… When he sees the remains of your 3AM artist mayhem it just makes him question everything. Just a bit.

- The sketchbooks… The loose paper… The pens, pencils, and markers all over the place… God it haunts him in his dreams. I mean, how does a marker make it behind the GOD DAMNED PILLOWS?!? HELLO?!?!

- Has seriously considered buying restraints. Don’t test him… He will. (must we remember his Makoto moment…?)

- He thinks it’s stupid that you trash so much art. You’re going to suffocate your trashcan with all that beautiful messy art.

- And don’t think you can get away with digital art!! He’s seen your file names!!! Disgusting. How do you even manage to find anything? You don’t? Explains a lot.

- It doesn’t matter where you crash, as you’ll always find yourself back in bed with all your tasmanian devil destruction cleanly put away.

- He always makes sure you get enough sleep, enough to eat, and plenty to drink. And don’t go slouching around like an idiot! It’ll ruin that pretty pretty appearance of yours… Seriously, SOOOO annoying.

- When you show him your recent art piece that has survived Hurricane Y/N, he smiles, just a bit. Butttt like the tsundere he is he quickly covers it up and says your eyes are just playing tricks. You draw too much. Go to sleep before he has to go through the hassle of getting you glasses!!!

- What’s that? You want to know his opinion? Well, of course you do! He is the MOST qualified person for this. He is a model after all~~ He gives you a healthy balance of compliments and criticism. He knows what getting crappy criticism is like, and he never wants you to experience that too. Especially from him.

- Once you’ve left, he smiles and admires your work. He loves it! It doesn’t matter if it’s the next Picasso masterpiece or not, it was made by you and that’s special. He really wants to see where your art goes, and he will stop at nothing to make sure that becomes a reality.

- Leo Tsukinaga -

- Crazy artist two, electric boogaloo.

- The team rocket theme plays when the two of you are seen together.

- “PREPARE FOR TROUBLE! AND MAKE IT DOUBLE!”

- Leo is genuinely SO happy he’s with you. Seriously. He’s never letting you go. Forget Anzu when he has YOU! :D His best, most beautiful muse!

- Naru walks into your shared room with Leo, it’s literally all paper and various stationary. She can’t even see you two!! She sighs and closes the door, she can’t take this much longer….

- Leo sees your art, and he glows. Like, LITERALLY glows. (god applied glow ink to him for 1800 seconds.)

- Your art just makes him so happy and giggly. He’s already hugging you and bouncing up and down like no tomorrow.

- Sometimes, he sees music in your art. Like, both figuratively and literally. There are now at least 20 songs that have come from the back of your sketchbook and 20 more that was written i n your sketchbook.

- If you were to EVER degrade your art in any fashion, well, Leo will get very grumpy. And whiny. And clingy. He’s NOT leaving your side and he will NOT shut up until you agree that all your art is beautiful and you’re super talented and super attractive and amazing and funny and- it never ends…

- There have been multiple instances where all the idols in Ensemble Square have found washed up and stranded pages filled with doodles and music notes. They’re just… not even surprised. They’ve even made a competition from it!

- Whoever finds the most abandoned children of the artistic mayhems ™️ gets *idk insert something that sounds appealing i can’t think of anything.*

- Now, if you decide to come with Leo to Florence, well…. Hell hath no fury like an Izumi annoyed. Buttttt that’s another story for another time ;)

I hope yall enjoyed my little head cannons for my favorite two idiots. If any of you wanna request then please check my pinned post! Have a good rest of the next 12 hours :)

#ensemble stars #izumi sena #leo tsukinaga #x reader #fanfic #izumi sena x reader #leo tsukinaga x reader #knights x reader #gn reader #artist reader #artist #fluff #headcannons #hcs

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aralezinspace · 2 years ago

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Masquerade

Combining two requests, both from Anonymous: Morpheus and s/o doing each other's makeup, Morpheus and reader kissing, reader teases him until he's at their mercy

A/N: The inherent eroticism of a masquerade *chef's kiss* partly inspired by All Yours by @roguelov (I love your writing so much!) Enjoy! Tagging @fangirlmary - If you want to be tagged in any of my writing let me know!

~~Requests are open!~~

“Morpheus?” I called from my bathroom, “Are you almost ready for me?” I knew time passed differently in the Dreaming, I still couldn’t help worrying we were going to be late. The Faerie realm was hosting a huge masquerade ball in honor of Cluracan’s birthday, and as rulers of the Dreaming we had both been invited. I had never been to a faerie masquerade, so I was more than a little nervous- even newly immortal, I was still only human, about to be surrounded by beings with more power in their pinkies than I had in my entire body.

I heard Dream’s footsteps pad from our bedroom into the bathroom before I saw his reflection in the mirror. I applied the last touch to my lipstick before turning to get the full effect, and my heart stopped in my chest.

He was dressed in his usual black, but the material seemed to be deeper, darker, a void where even the brightest of stars diminished. Within that void there swirled sparkling lines of blues, greens, purples, and reds, dotted with large silvery sparkles I’d bet were diamonds sewn into the fabric. The shirt and pants seemed painted onto his form they fit him so well, moving with him, not even creasing when he walked or moved his arms. The shirt’s collar covered his neck, and his hands were wrapped in black silk gloves.

The cloak he wore when being Dream of the Endless, Ruler of the Dreaming and Nightmare Realms was attached to his shoulders with silver brooches, each cradling a sapphire the size of a walnut. A silver chain connected the two pieces, swaying gently when he moved. Flames still flickered at the bottom, but this cloak was made of the same living void as his shirt and pants. His hair was only slightly more tamed than usual, which only added to the affect. Black pointed boots with slight heels and soft soles were on his feet.

I needed to stop gaping, before a dream spider crawled into my mouth.

“Holy shit,” I gasped, taking it all in again and again, the words hardly doing my sentiments any justice. He was ancient and beautiful, distant and awe-inspiring. “You look incredible.” He smiled gently at me, and I could have sworn his chest puffed out just a little bit as he approached me.

“As do you, my star,” he replied in a murmur. His eyes roved up and down my body, taking it all in as one would a piece of art. I could feel the slight tremor in his hand as he brushed a stray piece of hair away from my face. “Although there are no words in any language to do justice to your beauty.”

I felt a blush rise to my cheeks and bashfully glanced at the floor. “Flatterer,” I teased, but did a little twirl anyway before going back to the mirror.

He was right though, I looked just as otherworldly as him in the clothes he fashioned me. If he was attending as a galaxy, then I was the star at the very center. The whole ensemble was silver-blue and shimmering, made of countless layers of a light, floaty material that swirled around me like mist when I moved. The gown had a sweetheart neckline, and sleeves of fine silver mesh covered my arms, making them appear longer and more graceful. Moonstones and diamonds dotted the dress and sleeves, catching the light and reflecting it back. Small diamond earrings went in my ears, and a strand of silver and moonstone was around my neck, with a large opal pendant hanging just below my collarbones.

I had a cape of my own, made of the same shimmering material and dotted with flecks of gold, flowing out behind me from my shoulders. My makeup had the same slight rainbow and silver shimmer, my eyes outlined in pale blue liner. I looked every inch a monarch.

“Just have to do your eyeliner,” I said as I gestured for Morpheus to sit on the stool in front of my vanity. He swept across the bathroom and sat on the stool as if it were a throne while I gathered my liquid and pencil eyeliners, along with a few shades of eyeshadow. “Close your eyes and hold still?”

Morpheus smiled and did as I asked. His lashes were long and dark and utterly gorgeous against his pale cheeks. He was holding still as he could for me, which was the equivalent of a marble statue. Leaning over him, I carefully lined his upper lash lines in black ink before buffing it out with a brush. “Open and look up?”

Tongue between my teeth as I concentrated, I did his lower lash line as well. The black liner made the blue of his eyes even more startling, and I just knew that his eyes would appear even more like bottomless pits if they shifted to their usual black and silver over the course of the night.

“Okay, look ahead?” Rather than look straight ahead, Dream decided to look up at me, stopping the breath in my lungs with his gaze. With slightly clumsy fingers, I put the eyeliner back in my makeup drawer and grabbed the two eye shadows I had picked for him: a slightly sparkling red, and a shimmering silver. Using my fingertip, I gently pressed some of the red into the outer corners of his eyes, and some of the silver into the inner corners.

If I thought he looked incredibly beautiful and powerful before, I was wrong. Just adding the eyeliner and colors around his eyes had made him arrestingly gorgeous, and I couldn’t look away. My eyes widened at the being before me, heat flooding my entire body. That hint of red and silver was the most beautiful mistake I had ever made. It added more than a hint of mischief to the blue of his eyes, gave the power of dreams the attitude of the devil.

Oh, I was going to have a very hard time keeping my hands off him for however long we stayed at this party.

The fae had truly gone all out for Cluracan’s celebration in a dazzling display of magic, wealth, and the otherworldly beauty of nature. The giant ballroom hummed with life, my skin tingled from the strength of the collective vibes. Even as my eyes absorbed the vibrant colors and wondered at them until they burned, I felt distinctly out of place. Just a tiny human at the side of an Endless, almost like a pet. I wanted to shrink into a gilt corner and hope that none of these beings paid me any mind. But, I was a monarch of the Dreaming. If Morpheus couldn’t hide in a corner, neither could I.

I could tell from his slightly tense grip on my hand that he’d rather be anywhere else. Even with our masks covering the top halves of our faces, it was easy to see how much he detested being here. There were too many people, and wearing the face of a monarch for all of them was taxing. I gently rubbed circles into the back of his hand with my thumb as we waited in line to pay our respects to the king and queen, taking in the sights and sounds and smells.

A beautifully haunting waltz came from the musicians on the modest stage at the back of the room. Fae and gods and other creatures of myth mingled and danced, their movements flickering like mirages. A shiver went down my spine.

The fae herald announced us to the waiting monarchs, and Cluracan sitting beside them: “Dream of the Endless and Lady Y/N, monarchs of the Dreaming, rulers of the Nightmare Realms.” I plastered a smile on my face as we approached the thrones. Morpheus gave a slight, respectful bow, and I dipped my knees in a little curtsy.

“Lord Morpheus!” Cluracan yelled with a beaming grin, extending his hand for Dream to shake. “I am so pleased you were able to attend! Both you and your beautiful wife.” Morpheus shook his hand with a strained smile. “Thank you for the invitation, we are honored to be here.”

Cluracan then extended his hand to me. I did what was expected of me, and placed my fingers in his waiting grasp. “Your visage this night is a true blessing,” he murmured against the skin before brushing his lips over my knuckles with a flirtatious smirk. I could feel Morpheus tense beside me.

Dream exchanged the necessary pleasantries with the king and queen, something I was content to let him handle. After the fae monarchs wished us well with the encouragement to enjoy their hospitality for as long as we wished, we were finally free from royal obligations to enjoy the party.

Morpheus was a wallflower at social engagements on the best of days, but I could tell that being in a ballroom surrounded by fae and magical creatures of every kind made him especially uneasy. His hand never left my lower back as we mingled with the other guests, sipping on sweet wine to take the edge off.

After we took our leave of some forest spirits, the orchestra struck up a tune I recognized as old Dreaming folk music. I gave Morpheus’ hand a squeeze and whispered excitedly in his ear, “I’ll bet you anything Cluracan asked them to play this for us. It’d be rude not to dance.” I gave him my best sparkling puppy dog eyes. “Please? May I have this dance?”

Dream sighed, but agreed with a small, loving smile. The image of a perfectly refined and dignified ruler, he led me to the dance floor, holding my one hand aloft while the other rested at my waist. We swept around the dance floor in time with the music, our garments flowing out behind and around us- a supernova and a black hole, swirling around each other in perfect harmony.

“They’re all staring,” I breathed, my eyes darting quickly to the assembled crowd.

“They cannot help but be entranced by you, my darling,” he purred back, “And neither can I.” My eyes flickered up to his, my heart stopping in my chest and lips tugging up into a smirk when I caught the expression on his face. There was no way he hadn’t noticed the hitch in my breath, or the flush in my cheeks, and his tiny smile became unbearably smug. Oh, so that’s how he wanted to entertain himself tonight. Well then, two could play at that game.

“They’re staring at you too, you know,” I breathed against his lips just before he twirled me out and then back in to his waiting arms. “You’re easily the most powerful being here, I bet they’re trying to decide whether they want to be your ally, or stab you in the back. Not that I’d let them.” The hand that was resting on his shoulder slid up, up, so that I was caressing his neck. “And I bet the women are just burning inside, aroused by your demeanor and aggravated their husbands could never hope to measure up.”

It was soft, but I could hear the growl that rumbled low in Dream’s chest. I could feel the way his fingers tensed into the flesh at my waist. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly- he now knew I had caught on to his game, and was not only willing to play, but playing to win.

When the song was over, I pulled away to bow to him, low and slow and graceful with a smile that was anything but submissive. Dream returned the gesture, a perfect gentleman, one who knew exactly what effect he was having on his partner. Rather than take his hand to leave the dance floor, I turned away from him, throwing a flirtatious smirk over my shoulder as I walked towards the buffet. I could feel his eyes burning into my back as he watched, intending to follow, but stopped by a fae lord wishing to speak with him.

I could sense Dream’s growing tension as the night wore on and I refused to stay by his side, rather flitting just out of reach. I made small talk with the other guests, even exchanged a few more words with Cluracan- that really got him going. It was only a matter of time before he came to sweep me away. I intended to beat him to it.

It was hard to evade the stare of an Endless, but I managed well enough. Just enough to catch Dream’s eye before leaving the ballroom and disappearing around a corner into a quieter hall. I could hear his footsteps following me, letting him catch the occasional glimpse of my skirt fluttering around a corner. Almost there…

I turned the next corner and hid in the darkened space between two stone columns encircled with vines. My heart pounded as Dream drew closer. When he was about to pass my hiding place, I reached out and snatched his arm, pulling him into the shadows with me and pressing him against the wall. The air left his lungs on impact in a breathy moan. I stepped in closer, pressing my nose into the hollow just below his ear and taking a deep breath. I was already warm and fuzzy from the wine and fae magic in the air; breathing Morpheus in only made it more so.

With a soft hum, I gently pressed my lips to his, moving them slowly, carefully, testing just how far I could push him. I teasingly ran my tongue over the seam of his sweet lips, and he immediately parted them for me. I flitted in for the slightest taste, the sweetness of the wine still lingering in the corners of his mouth. I pulled away the moment he tried to deepen the kiss, letting him lick beggingly at my closed lips.

One hand cradled his chin while the other slipped under the edge of his mask, mussing his hair slightly as I lifted it over his head and let it fall to the floor. He gasped against my lips and his breath immediately hitched, like he had been caught in the act of showing just how much I was affecting him.

His hands found their way to my hips, fingers digging in to soft fabric as he tugged me closer. My fingers threaded into his silky hair, gently caressing for a few moments before tightening around the strands and giving a gentle yank to expose his neck. Another gasp left him, his eyes fluttering.

I attached my lips to his jawline, kissing and nipping, just hard enough to sting. His fingers bit into my hips, holding me closer. I chuckled low in his ear, more than a little proud of how little it had taken to tease him into a gasping, trembling mess. “I think we’ve stayed long enough,” I cooed, “Unless you’d rather have another dance, or talk with Cluracan some more…”

Dream’s eyes flashed open, no longer ice blue, but deep black, and somehow still burning and sparkling. I had been right before: the eyeliner and colors at the corners of his eyes made me want to sink into those bottomless pits that looked as though they wanted to devour me whole. A breath shuddered out of my lungs and heat flooded my body. Dream smirked, smug and feral.

A hand left my waist to rip off my mask and cast it aside. Dream’s eyes raked over my face, eyes burning with desire. “My little star…” his low growl rumbled through me like thunder. “You are making it incredibly difficult to keep my composure.”

I slowly licked my lips, smooth and sultry. Dream’s eyes tracked every movement of my tongue. I stepped in even closer: “Then let it go.”

When I felt the vortex of sand carry us back to the Dreaming, I knew I had won this round, and also that Dream was more than alright with losing.

#The Sandman #The Sandman fanfic #Morpheus x reader #Dream of the endless x reader #Morpheus fanfic

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