#i pick on all my villagers equally

[takami-takami]

The Uncommitted Movement and Uncommitted Delegates have been petitioning to have just one Palestinian-American speak at the DNC for months; among a sea of speakers, including a random border patrol agent, Trump voters, and the CEO of Uber.

They were told three words and no other explanation: "It's a no."

The delegates and Palestine protesters have been working tirelessly to get the DNC to rescind this decision on the last day of the convention and apply pressure. There is only one ethnic background that is not allowed to speak at the DNC, and that is Palestinians.

Georgia State Representative Ruwa Romman is at the top of the list of Palestinian democrats that were offered— of which the Uncommitted Movement and delegates generously offered the DNC to take their pick.

In case they don't let her speak, this is her speech.

"My name is Ruwa Romman, and I’m honored to be the first Palestinian elected to public office in the great state of Georgia and the first Palestinian to ever speak at the Democratic National Convention. My story begins in a small village near Jerusalem, called Suba, where my dad’s family is from. My mom’s roots trace back to Al Khalil, or Hebron. My parents, born in Jordan, brought us to Georgia when I was eight, where I now live with my wonderful husband and our sweet pets.

Growing up, my grandfather and I shared a special bond. He was my partner in mischief—whether it was sneaking me sweets from the bodega or slipping a $20 into my pocket with that familiar wink and smile. He was my rock, but he passed away a few years ago, never seeing Suba or any part of Palestine again. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss him.

This past year has been especially hard. As we’ve been moral witnesses to the massacres in Gaza, I’ve thought of him, wondering if this was the pain he knew too well. When we watched Palestinians displaced from one end of the Gaza Strip to the other I wanted to ask him how he found the strength to walk all those miles decades ago and leave everything behind. 

But in this pain, I’ve also witnessed something profound—a beautiful, multifaith, multiracial, and multigenerational coalition rising from despair within our Democratic Party. For 320 days, we’ve stood together, demanding to enforce our laws on friend and foe alike to reach a ceasefire, end the killing of Palestinians, free all the Israeli and Palestinian hostages, and to begin the difficult work of building a path to collective peace and safety. That’s why we are here—members of this Democratic Party committed to equal rights and dignity for all. What we do here echoes around the world.

They’ll say this is how it’s always been, that nothing can change. But remember Fannie Lou Hamer—shunned for her courage, yet she paved the way for an integrated Democratic Party. Her legacy lives on, and it’s her example we follow.

But we can’t do it alone. This historic moment is full of promise, but only if we stand together. Our party’s greatest strength has always been our ability to unite. Some see that as a weakness, but it’s time we flex that strength. 

Let’s commit to each other, to electing Vice President Harris and defeating Donald Trump who uses my identity as a Palestinian as a slur. Let’s fight for the policies long overdue—from restoring access to abortions to ensuring a living wage, to demanding an end to reckless war and a ceasefire in Gaza. To those who doubt us, to the cynics and the naysayers, I say, yes we can—yes we can be a Democratic Party that prioritizes funding our schools and hospitals, not for endless wars. That fights for an America that belongs to all of us—Black, brown, and white, Jews and Palestinians, all of us, like my grandfather taught me, together."

[itsabouttimex2]

Eclipse Kings

Part Three: Wild Dawn

(Part One: Mountain Monkeys) (Part Two: Barbed Dusk) (Part Three: You Are Here)

(Extra One)

For almost all his life, Sun Wukong had never really known “want”, not for more than the few moments it took to decide he was going to pursue some fleeting and new desire.

The land itself seemed to conspire to his favor- he was borne to a thriving mountain of surplus and luxury, sparkling stream racing down each hill, bountiful orchards with boughs so heavy they dipper near to the earth. Even the horizon was generous, spanning sunrises to color his every lavish breakfast and hosting a banner of glittering stars to lull him to sleep.

He wanted for nothing, because when the world would not bend to his whims, he simply bent it himself- to the end result of power, luxury, and adoration.

His life was fraught with the inevitable turning of blades, stuffed full of motion, conflict, and inevitable triumph. His troop grew by the year, Flower Fruit Mountain knew nothing of suffering, and his treasury was brimming with relics.

A demon crowned eternal king of a flourishing mountain, untouchable and immovable.

What more could a monkey want?

Company, as it turned out. The varied little simians scattered all through the trees and bushes of his mountain were wonderful, of course- he cherished them all like his own children, and doted on each and every one of the little menaces.

But he still wanted more.

—-——————————————————————

“That, little mortal, is when I joined my Sworn Brotherhood!”

The Great Sage Equal to Heaven smiles warmly at his recited memories, claws lightly sifting through a large collection of traditional clothing.

“We were going to lead a siege on that stuck-up realm of Celestials, but my darling moonbeam had an even better idea- why not start our own kingdoms? Instead of teaching those stuffy old fools how to respect us, we could just show them up and take all their little worshipping mortals away!”

You don’t say a word in turn, still bundled up in a fluffy towel, sitting on the nearest chair, idly watching through blank eyes. Since you hadn’t been willing to walk or respond, Wukong had scooped you up with a sigh and hurried off to his and Macaque’s shared changing room, given permission to pick out some old clothes of theirs to give you.

“Of course, all of the stuff that was supposed to be boring was, uh… a total mess. Y’know, like deciding on territories, drawing borders, figuring out taxes—ugh. Mortals do not like taxes. Sure like ‘em better than being eaten by demons, though.” He chuckles at his own words, shaking his head as if to dismiss the unpleasant memories of bureaucracy. Wukong pulls out a black ceremonial robe embroidered with purple thread and holds it up against you, squinting as if he’s considering how it might look.

“…no. My sweet moon wouldn’t like you wearing this.”

“…s’it “too nice” for me?”

“…you mortals really aren’t the best with self-esteem, are you? No, little villager- it’s because he wore something like this when we were married. After that, he started commissioning seamstresses to make him more clothes like that robe… the actual thing is framed in a glass box over our bed. I don’t understand why Mac wanted that, but I can’t ever say no to him…”

Wukong’s voice trails off, tone softening as his gaze drifted to the ceiling. A smile plays on his lips, barely restrained, as he’s replaying his dearest memory of Macaque on repeat. You shift uncomfortably, unsure how to respond, the weight of his affection for his moonlit partner pressing against the silence.

He breaks it himself, but only after walking across the room and popping open lacquered wood chest, breaking the preserving sigil printed across it .

“You know,” says the king, his claws tapping the gleaming pauldron of gold within, “I wore this when we got married.”

He turns to the side, catches the fact that you’ve perked up even a little, and continues.

“It was the nicest thing I owned at the time- most of my outfits were skinned animals and stolen rags. This is something my brothers had given me, so it was the nicest thing I had that wasn’t my staff.”

Wukong’s fingers linger on the golden armor, tone rich with an ancient nostalgia. “I wasn’t one for fancy clothes back then- still coming around to it now- but I was even worse with it back then. I wanted to go in my tiger skirt and my old boots! But my brothers? Oh, they insisted: “You’re getting married- you can’t just show up looking like a bandit on your wedding day!” So they gave me this, and a nice red robe with a ton of silly characters embroidered into it- it’s framed right next to my mate’s robe, now.”

Say something. You need to say something. You can’t just mumble and mutter if you want to stay in a king’s good graces, can you?

“…do you… remember your vows?”

He perks with a smile, intrigued by the random question, entirely missing how dangerously close you are to cracking.

“Well, if that’s want you want to know, how about I tell you about the whole ceremony? Here, I’ll lay out how it went…”

——————————————————————

Macaque shuffles in place for a moment, old meekness returning to him- his hands twitch, and the notes smoothly inked onto the sleeve of his silk robe catch in the light, drawing his aureate eyes downwards. The crowd all around is nervous mortals and drunk demons, dressed in red or black or gold, held at peace mostly by his eager “brothers”. On Azure’s lap and shoulders are several children, more interested in his blade and snout than the ceremony. He’s smiling, more at ease than any other here.

The others for the most part are doing alright. Peng is preoccupied with their drink, casually allowing themselves to be marveled at by a blacksmith and a jeweler- though neither are allowed to touch, both mortals are fervently etching the gilded designs into their paper scrolls. The avian flaps those glimmering wings on occasion, causing streaks of light to flash over the modest venue, catching across the polished tiles.

Yellowtusk sits on a carved stone chair, marking the attendants in a neat ledger, made oversized to fit his hands. Several troops of Long-Tailed and Crab-Eating Macaques play on his trunk and tusks, their little fingers deftly taking hold in the cracks of his thick skin to ascend it. They don’t ever distract him for more than a few seconds, even when the youngest cubs forget their manners and start chirping in his ears.

The largest of their Brotherhood stands at attention in the doorway, toying with the straps of his battle axe. His face is painted with a rarely seen apprehension, looking back and forth over the room on occasion. Sometimes his gaze stills on a veil-shrouded woman with painted lips, and then he smiles for a moment.

The Demon Bull King is not nearly as subtle of a man as he thinks.

Not that it matters- when, for all that (which is very much) his Sworn Brothers know he’s courting a Celestial Maiden, they’ve chosen to keep an oath of silence on the matter.

(“He’s our big guy,” as Wukong had put it during one meeting months ago. “And we want that goofball to be happy.”)

(All of them- even Peng- had toasted to that notion, in the general direction of the bull’s empty chair.)

The mortals are safe. His brothers are content. He can do this.

Once more the dried notes on his sleeve catch Macaque’s attention, snapping him from the venue and to his golden love.

One last time he goes over them, dedicating those practiced words to memory.

He takes a breath, and turns to the audience.

“My mate-to-be is��� molten gold, kissed by the rising sun. Beautiful is a shallow word to describe him- he is a masterpiece, a divine work of art carved by the heavens themselves. His eyes hold the all the world’s fire within them, blazing with the brilliance of a thousand sunsets. His laughter is a hymn to freedom itself, a melody I pray to hear every day for the rest of my life. When I look at him, I don’t just see a king, but the very heart of my existence, the axis upon which my world turns. He is my sun, my storm, my sanctuary, my everything.”

Several of the softer mortals are touched by his speech, lifting their cotton sleeves to the very corners of their eyes. Others only lightly clap, still uncomfortable at being called to the union.

Macaque does not have time to look away from before Wukong’s ginger-furred paws clasp onto his shoulders, holding tight.

There are no notes, no hours of reciting, no time spent with helpful Sworn Brothers to listen and offer advice, no matter how snarky- Sun Wukong simply turns from the crowd and offers himself.

“Macaque… I love you. I want you to be my mate forever. Until the sun goes dark.” Wukong's tail flicks behind him, expression softening with a rare blush. "Because... you're part of my story, bud. You’ve always been a part of it. And I'm tired of pretending like I can write the rest of it without you. Be mine forever and let’s be mates.”

The world is blurry, at least to Macaque. Nine and a half seconds prior he had thought there’d be some disappointment to push through, delivered an insincere joke or a vow written by another’s hand.

But there was only been Sun Wukong, love of his life, smiling at him.

“I will be your mate,” he chokes out, “forever. Until the sun goes dark.”

——————————————————————

“We’ve never been apart since then,” he purrs, dragging one claw over a hanfu the color of a sky on a gentle morning, toying with the white sash to untie it. “Not even for a day.”

Before you have a chance to respond, he plucks up the garment and holds it out to you. The size difference between him and the outfit is comical, and you wonder why these two demon kings have it in the first place.

“This should fit you, bud! Here, let’s get that towel off-“

You scream.

It’s not particularly loud or long, or even desperate- but it’s a scream all the same.

Worse still for yourself, you take this hysteric moment to lay on some shaky remand.

“NO! No more! Just stop touching me! I don’t- I d-don’t like it! You’re- you’re twice my size and you keep- you and him are always getting in my face and- a-and putting your hands on me, and I- I’m am so, so sick of it! I am not an o-object! I am a person! I am a person! I-“

“Quiet. Now.”

Wukong’s golden eyes narrow as he stands there, the weight of his presence pressing down on the room like a thundercloud ready to burst. His tail flicks sharply, but his voice remains measured.

…there are tears rolling down your eyes now, lost in the fluffy expanse of the towel around your body, sopping uselessly away as the king takes two footsteps to your form, frowning.

Not that it does anything to settle the rapid beat of your heart, crushed by the newly oppressive atmosphere.

“…you’re scared. I understand that. And maybe my moonbeam and I, we’ve been a little too hands on. That’s on us. But this my pagoda, and I did not build it by hand so that a little guest could yell at me. You know that you’re not a prisoner here. The doors aren’t locked, and there aren’t guards stationed outside them… now. I’ll let you get dressed- alone- and then you can eat. And…

“And no more touching without your permission. Okay?”

“…m’sorry. F-for yelling.”

“…I’m not mad,” he lies, one hand shifting to condescendingly pat you on the head. “I forget- my brothers, and my mate, too- we yaoguai just aren’t the same as mortals. You little things are scared too easily, and break so quickly.”

Something about hearing that is humiliating, but you don’t dare argue with him. Instead, you hunch your shoulders and cling to the towel, sniveling down at the floor.

Wukong’s frown softens the longer he watches you cry, all the sharpest edges of his irritation melting away into something closer to pity.

“I’ll leave it here. Call if you get lost looking for the kitchen.”

His words are painfully curt, and then the king is gone, golden beads and silk robes swishing behind him with each step.

You were never close, and only ever tangentially in the “good graces” of these kings. It’s not like you’ve shattered some precious bond.

But you still feel bad.

You wouldn’t, not usually. But as you unwrap the towel and begin to dress yourself in the lovely hanfu left draped over the chair nearest to you, the aches and pains of yesterday’s chase down the mountain weigh on you, just as MK’s new identity and newer happiness strike a deep point of insecurity- that you simply weren’t good enough to take care of him.

You weren’t good enough to provide for him anymore.

You wanted to believe you were more than them- strong enough to survive on your own, to fight your way through the world with MK in tow. But the truth was harder to face: Sun Wukong and the Six-Eared Macaque were meteoric gods, and you were just a mortal caught in the tides of their myth.

And where MK was thriving in this ecliptic chaos, you instead were already cracking under pressure after only a day spent before the kings.

…there’s a lovely silk pouch, dyed the color of new lavender blooms, hanging from the hanfu- you only notice it after tying the sash into a decent bow. The soft texture grounds your tumultuous thoughts, and a powerful aroma steadily drifts from within.

You fiddle with the tie and open the sash, revealing a dried bundle of orange blossoms tightly tied together, each stem marked with a glittering mystic sigil- 提高.

Whatever scent they would’ve had already was amplified by the marking, causing a heavy flow of fresh floral scent to ooze from the little purse.

You lift it and take a deep breath from the bag, allowing the veil of citrus aroma to utterly cloud your mind, providing it a much needed fog to rest under.

The soothing haze is slow to fade, even after you’ve pulled away and sealed the bag, but eventually you are left with only your steadied thoughts in the ornate chamber, amongst fine silks and polished wood, treasures of centuries past hung casually about It’s beautiful—almost too much so.

A reminder that this world of theirs is not the same of yours.

But you would not stop trying to survive in it.

You couldn’t.

[tcustodisart]

Connecticut Tav | Wood Half-Elf | Beast Master Ranger

So, this is my sheet for @bareee's @tav-dex. Went a little overboard and made a whole ass character sheet (man the last time I made one of those was so long ago). I want to write something about my cringe boy so. Buckle up because it's going to be long and poorly written (I suck at writing).

One edit because I'm a dummy, his alignment is neutral good not true neutral idk why I did that.

He was born and raised in his mom's and step-dad's tavern called Crow's Perch (not as fancy as Elf Song but in a different category as Blushing Mermaid)(the tavern thing is just for the sake of a joke that the most popular drink they serve is called 'Connecticut Water'). He has an older brother, who's a bard. Despite the description for Urchin background ("After surviving a poor and bleak childhood") he had a happy childhood, filled with love and support. The two brothers treated the whole Lower City as their playground: breaking into places just for fun, pick pocketing nobles, climbing Wyrm's Rock Fortress etc.

His love for beasts and creatures of any kind comes from the stories told by his step-dad (both him and Tav's mom are retired adventurers). Step dad was the one who told Tav about Darkmaw the Wicked *wink wink*.

At one point he got tired of the city life and decided he wanted to become a ranger. After successfully fulfilling some contracts he became so confident of his skills he tried to build a trap all by his own. The trap exploded right into his face (he himself has no idea how it didn't kill him or damaged his eyes). After that he was sulking in his hunting hut for a month. The experience humbled the boy. Most of his adventuring prior to the nautiloid could just be boiled down to hanging around one village and talking local boars out of destroying potato fields, and occasionally getting rid of poachers.

Before the abduction he was on his way to Baldur's Gate to see his family (which he hasn't seen in months).

Trivia (because it's easier to write stuff this way):

His hair started to go grey at the start of Act 3 from the weight of responsibility and stress.

In Act 1 he was corresponding with his family thanks to Faust. After entering The Underdark he stopped sending letters (In Underdark because it would be hard, in Act 2 because he didn't want the bird to be killed by Shadow Curse).

Despite being close to his family in Act 3, he didn't visit them or send any messages in fear that Gortash and/or Orin would hurt them.

He carries with him a razor and some fancy oils for his beard.

His brother wrote one ballad about him, soon after that Tav forbid him from writing more (it was very much not accurate).

His step-dad taught him how to fight with a sword, while his mom taught him archery and the art of stealth.

Tav's biological father died when he was very young so he has barely any memory of him.

Tav's a walking Merlin app, he can identify any bird by just listening to it.

He loves climbing trees. Either to rest on a branch or to scout the surroundings.

He loves picking up herbs and making potions.

Despite growing up in a tavern he's not much of a drinker.

He's very self-conscious about his height and chest-to-belly area. He tries his best not to show it.

At one point he was persona non grata at Sharess' Caress.

He enjoys fishing.

Sir Daisy Dewdrop Fluffington is a name of his childhood plush.

He knows how to play lanceboard (he often plays against Gale and tries to teach it to Wyll).

He draws in his journal. He drew all of his companions at least once.

He almost cried when Jaheira called him 'cub' and almost called her 'mom' in response.

He's scared of Lae'zel. But tries his best to understand and help her.

He had countless heart-to-hearts with Karlach.

In his journal he described Astarion as 'his equal on the battlefield'.

[izzabela]

Hi! Can I request fem reader who is tall, strong basically ideal woman for Bi-Han who is interested in her but instead reader chose Kung Lao cause “he makes her laugh.” (*^▽^*)

Jessica Rabbit - Kung Lao x fem!reader x Bi Han

in which you find your Roger Rabbit between two men

a/n: if you make her laugh and giggle, you can make that gyatt clap and jiggle

ship[s]: kung lao x fem!reader x bi han

warning(s): semi-kanon

You laugh at Kung Lao's horribly flat joke as you ate lunch. Midday, perfect breeze, and at a temperature not too hot, it was a good day for lunch outdoors.

While you're laughing wholeheartedly, it's Kenshi who points out the obvious cringe in that joke.

"It wasn't even that funny, he missed the punch line," Kenshi states in his usual deadpan voice.

You shake your head as you keep laughing, and he sighs as Johnny pats his back.

"You seriously don't get women, Ken-doll," Johnny tuts, and Raiden rolls his eyes as he continues to watch his best friend and newfound friend share a laugh.

Kung Lao has been interested in you since you came to the Academy as the final Champion for Liu Kang. You were but an ordinary farmer in the village over, past Fengjian, picking out crops for the upcoming festival. Suddenly, your village was attacked by black-clad ninja-warrior-men-things, and you had run in to join the fight with your limited knowledge.

Of course, like the rest of the champions, Liu Kang revealed himself, explained the circumstances about this "mortal kombat tournament" and the existence of realms. Oh, and how your mentor was the descendant of a former champion.

As you trained, you got to know your other champions better. You were stand-offish first, since many people were taken aback by your height and overall broadness of body. You were right to do so since the monks avoided sparring with you since your height may give an advantage.

The first person to break that ice between you and them was Kung Lao. You learned from Liu Kang that his ego knew no bounds, but you didn't think his ego was afraid of social anxiety. He came up to you like a normal person, treated you as such, and sparred with you that fateful day.

You remained reserved, since you were afraid this was all a joke, but when his friend, Raiden, came along, then Johnny, then Kenshi, you realized it was in good faith.

Since then, you five have grown close, but no one can deny that you were closest to Kung Lao. Despite his inflated personality, he's honest, kind, sensitive, objectively attractive, and personable.

You understood why he and Raiden were friends, and you commended him for not letting his ego get to him despite everyone praising Raiden. You remembered what he said about that topic.

"I trust Raiden as much as he trusts me. He gives me the strength to act like this, because I know he has my back."

That made up a good seventy-five percent of the reason why you liked him. But what about the other twenty-five? Well, that brings us back to the lunch outside the academy.

You wipe your eyes as you give Kung Lao a weak high five, and he smiles brightly before tackling you into the biggest of bear hugs. You can't help but laugh more as he tickles your sides, tears of happiness leaving your eyes.

"Kung Lao, stop that. She'll have cramps later during our spars," Raiden scolds, pinching his ear for him to let go. Kung Lao whines, releasing your reluctantly as you settle down fully.

"Alright, mother. Whatever you say," Kung Lao teases.

"She could've peed too," Johnny points out the (gross) truth. You sigh and shove him playfully, and he's feigning shock that everyone's turned on him.

"Oh come on, I'm funny too!" Johnny pleas, and Kenshi flicks his forehead.

"Vulgarity does not equal hilarity," Kenshi quips.

As you guys finish up, you all take the trash from your lunches back to the canteen room, only to meet Liu Kang and three men in blue, yellow, and gray uniforms. You five recognize them as the grandmaster and his seconds-in-command: Bi Han, Kuai Liang, and Tomas.

All five of you bow, and you lead the introductions. "Greetings to the Lin Kuei."

They nod their heads as a sign of acceptance, and Liu Kang asks you all to rise. "I see your meals are over, I hope everyone enjoyed, yes?"

Everyone nods, and Liu Kang hums in content. "Well, since everyone is present, I will announce our next training plan for the month."

Liu Kang states that because it is the final month before the tournament, he invited the Lin Kuei's leaders to take charge of a more intensive training.

Of course, the final representative would be chosen the week before they left for Outworld, so everyone was getting learning how to defeat different kinds of opponents.

The Lin Kuei would be aiding in representing figures like General Shao, Reiko, Kotal, Sheeva, and other "magically huge" (Johnny's words, not Liu Kang's) opponents.

Not only were the contenders non-human, but possessed qualities and traits only heard of in fairytales.

"Hence," Liu Kang finished. "I have enlisted the help of the Lin Kuei to train you all. I hope you all get along well."

Liu Kang bows and takes his leave, also stating he had prior engagements. So, it left the eight of you in an awkward situation. Rather, awkward silence.

"You've all eaten, yes?" Tomas breaks first. Raiden then answers, and they walk together as everyone else follows suit.

"Thank the elder gods for Raiden and his personability," Kung Lao whispers to you, and you nudge him playfully.

It's Tomas's turn to talk, and he immediately talks to Johnny about his movies. While Tomas doesn't see he's clearly stroking his ego, Johnny keeps rambling about how this experience will make a great movie (if he can make it). Kenshi just rolls his eyes and tells Tomas to ignore him.

The only one left to say anything was Bi Han, the leader of the clan. He pulled back behind everyone to assess the current situation.

He didn't address you nor Kung Lao, and you two kept to yourselves as you talked about other matters. Even so, Bi Han can't help but stare at you.

Your height was the first thing he took into account when looking at you. Your hair suited you as well, long and the color practically glowing under the sun. Your arms were out due to the attire of the training clothes, but they were muscular and well-toned.

And when you smiled at whatever the hell Kung Lao was yapping about, Bi Han can feel his chest hurt a bit. Tight, warm, and burning with... a feeling.

After walking out of the canteen, down the shaded walkways of the training grounds, you all stop at the courtyard where the training dummies are. Bi Han gets in front of everyone and announces the new changes.

"We'll be sparring every day for two hours. Meals will be shortened to thirty minutes instead of the forty-five, and at the end of each week, I will host mini tournaments to see how far each of you has come."

You collectively sigh, Johnny more vocal about the loss of his break time. Kenshi and Raiden are the first to speak-up about their distaste of the changes.

"I don't think all of this is necessary, Grandmaster," Kenshi begins carefully. A vein in Bi Han's forehead is visible as he lays out a punishment already.

"Laps. All of you."

Ah, what lovely training you'll be receiving.

*******

A month passes by and training with the Lin Kuei is actually okay.

Waking early, shorter lunches, longer training, it all benefited when it came to the accuracy and power of landing hits.

Except for you.

"Sloppy," Bi Han sums you up as you're panting and gasping for oxygen. You look at him with an incredulous look.

"Grandmaster, I don't understand?" you ask as you breathe heavily between words.

"We train after your dinner," Bi Han orders you. "Dismissed for the night, except you."

You groan, the sun beating down on you before the shadow of a familiar silhouette falls over you.

"See you at dinner? In a couple?" Kung Lao asks as he helps you up.

"Of course, I have yet to hear those jokes you made up," you giggle.

Kung Lao is doing his best to keep his shyness to a minimum, but it's hard when his hand is touching yours as he lifts you. It's difficult when his hand fits so well on your lower back.

It's impossible when his heart is beating through his ears, and three of his friends are staring bullets into the back of his head.

Kung Lao walks with the other boys, looking back at you one last time before you're left alone with the beast.

Bi Han tries not to come off like an asshole, he's actually way more chill than this. With the weight of the tournament, plus his need to do something for the clan, he can't help it.

Besides, sparring takes his mind off of things.

You deal with it surprisingly well, and Bi Han doesn't know if he feels bad for his methods of keeping you around or proud of how well you deal with stress.

Bi Han has had a crush on you the minute he saw you and Kung Lao together. He wasn't rude enough to interrupt the conversation, but he wanted more of you.

Over the course of his and his brother's stay, he held you back purposely to talk to you. Invited you to eat with him and his brothers, hell, he even sparred one on one with you.

He usually reserves that last aspect for people closest to him.

However, despite Bi Han's darndest efforts, you could not feel anything towards the man.

He was enjoyable to talk to, his brothers were equally matched in that aspect too. He was kind and considerate to you after the fact he was a strict instructor.

But something was... missing. He's as stiff as a board, a little too rough around the edges for you.

But Bi Han didn't know that, and since the training is coming to an end, Bi Han decided to really step up his game and confess to you. Something he talked to his siblings about.

While Tomas was more than supportive, Kuai Liang was a bit more reserved with his opinions.

"Brother, I don't wish to look at yourself differently, but she might be looking at someone else completely," he said to him as they were cleaning up one day.

"If you have nothing better to tell me, make yourself useful with Tomas," Bi Han gruffed.

He kept that in his mind, though, and now that you were here, just the two of you, in the warm afternoon and setting sun of the academy, there was no turning back.

"So, Grandmaster, what about me is sloppy this time?" you ask, settled down and finally having gathered enough air.

Bi Han places a dummy in front of you, then another one next to it.

"Your knees lock too early when you kick," he point to the torso of the dummy. "Strike here."

You give a good sidekick, but it's caught early. The grip he has on your shin is surprisingly soft as he points out the flaws.

As you two talk, you don't realize that Kung Lao has the perfect view of you two. He's slurping his congee and hard-boiled egg, glaring at the sight of Bi Han holding your leg like that.

"If you stare any longer, she'll die to a gunshot wound on her head," Johnny teases.

Kenshi flicks his forehead, scolding him about his senselessness. Raiden, though, looks at him with more concern.

"What has you so concerned?" Raiden asks. "Do you believe that she actually will choose the Grandmaster over you?"

Kung Lao freezes, his eyes widening a bit at the thought. You and Bi Han, a couple. Deadly, beautiful, a perfect match for each other.

Still, Kung Lao recovers, "What's there to worry about? I'm the greatest catch on the market!"

Raiden's hand is on Kung Lao's shoulder, and he stares into his eyes to try and fish out what's really eating at him.

"Kung Lao..." Raiden calls his name softly.

For once, Kung Lao sighs and admits defeat. He takes his hat off, dropping it next to him as his head meets the table with a harsh thud.

"I just... She is such a catch!" Kung Lao admits with a red face. "She has been with the Grandmaster after every meal, and for hours on end..."

Johnny and Kenshi stop bickering finally, hearing the dilemma their dear friend is in.

"And she and Grandmaster Bi Han would look great together..."

It's true that perhaps you and Bi Han would make a great couple, but Kung Lao underestimated himself greatly in the part of him that made him... well, Kung Lao.

Bi Han couldn't make you laugh as hard as Kung Lao did. Often times, his jokes fell incredibly flat, or the punchline was missed, or his tone was just off.

This was unknown to Kung Lao, though, so he sits with his friends as he continues to ramble.

"Just, stop.." Kenshi halts his incessant yapping. "You're going to have to tell her. You can't keep this a secret forever."

Johnny burps before adding on, "Especially with the tournament so soon, who knows when we'll have time like this again."

Kung Lao groans heavily, throwing his head back and scratching his head roughly with thoughts on how he'd do so.

What he doesn't realize is that you're in front of him. Freshly showered, clothes somewhat sticking to your body, and the most damning thing that makes him realize he's too late.

A bouquet. Beautifully assorted flowers are wrapped in paper and tied at the stems in an arrangement that screamed "money money money". You were smiling at him as he looked at you from his point of view, head parallel to yours.

"What'cha thinkin' about, Lao?" you ask.

Kung Lao doesn't hear a thing as his heart beats erratically. Harsh, angry, frustrated, he stands up abruptly to leave dinner.

With his food still unfinished.

Knowing something is wrong, you place the flowers in Raiden's arms and rush after him, not even bothering to say anything to the other men. He may be tall and fast, but your strides were longer and you peak over him a bit in height.

You catch up to him with ease, grabbing his wrist and forcing him to face you (isn't this supposed to be the other way around?)

"Lao, you left your food... you never do that," you inform him, and his looks away with gritted teeth and a scowl.

"Leave me, I am not hungry anymore," Kung Lao lies.

You scoff, "Kung Lao, be real with me." You let go of his wrist, your eyes trying to find his as he obviously darts away.

"The flowers," he breaks. "Where did you get them."

It's not a question when he "asks" you. He's pissed, clearly disappointed too.

"The Grandmaster," you answer truthfully. "He gave them to me as a gift."

"Why."

"He confessed to me."

Kung Lao turns away to walk, "Congratulations. I wish you two-"

"I rejected him," you interrupt him.

He turns back to you, his eyes practically spilling out of his eye-sockets as he waves his hand in a motion that says "continue".

"He told me that he had intentions of courting me, but I rejected him," you explain as you begin walking back to the canteen. He follows you, listening in disbelief.

"Why would you reject such an offer? He is the perfect suitor!" Kung Lao praises, dropping his egotistical façade. You shake your head, a bit pink on your neck and ears as you tell him the truth.

"He doesn't, well- he can't make me laugh."

Kung Lao is slack-jawed, shocked at such a trivial personality point that tipped Bi Han out of your favor. Taking this opportunity, you take his hands and slip your fingers in his.

"And besides, you're my favorite clown among everyone here," you admit shyly. Kung Lao is beet-red now, stuttering like a failing engine as he tries to sell himself short. You stop him, though.

"No matter what anyone says, you are you. This version of you is the one I want," Kung Lao is silent as you keep going. "You're not a Raiden copy, 'Thunderland', or anything else."

Kung Lao's heart actually skips a beat, and he taps his chest to try and get it back in rhythm. You giggle and kiss his cheek.

"This is what I mean by clown. You're always making me smile, no matter what."

Kung Lao forgets about his food, and you ignore your stomach as you both go on a moonlit walk on the training grounds.

Just the two of you, the pleasant sound of your laughs ringing in the air as Kung Lao keeps firing joke after joke.

=====================

"seriously, what do you see in that guy?", "he makes me laugh."

never settle for less, Jessica Rabbit loves a man who makes her giggle

see y'all in the next fic!

[loaksky]

— 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴

the lowdown — the one where neteyam is shackled by appearances, but you couldn’t care less. 

the who — neteyam x fem omatikaya!reader

the word count — 2.2k

the tags & warnings — language ,, misunderstandings (i love this trope and this is a hill i’ll die on i’m SORRY) ,, neteyam’s friends can be shitty, but mean well ,, reader just wants to love up on her boy :(

the notes — based off of this request! this is another addition to my neteyam content, but ik some of you guys are itching for some other characters, so i'm probably gonna steer in another direction & write for kiri & tsireya so if that interests you, stay tuned! <3

(not proofread well lmao)

masterlist

Neteyam is many things; a kind spirit, a fierce warrior, a loving brother, a diligent son. But Neteyam is also new to love. Not quite new to being in love, but learning the act of loving you. 

He’d found so many ways to express his heart’s desire; written notes on scraps, gentle smiles, searing eyes. It was one thing in particular, though, that made his mouth dry, made his brain nearly short circuit, and it was your need to be in his space. 

Even after many days that bleed into weeks and meld into months, you make his cheeks warm with every lingering pass of your fingertips, make his stomach knot with every fluttering kiss to his skin. 

It’d been a pleasant surprise at first, but now it was a need, an absolute necessity to have you fused to him like a second skin. Your touch was a tacit word and he was learning to speak your language. 

The two of you together was normalcy and the clan members were more than delighted to know that the olo’eyktan’s son was lucky in love. But there were teasing whispers, lilting voices in the background that made something uncomfortable pinch the back of his brain. 

His skin would light up with equal parts want and embarrassment when you’d hang loosely around him during evening meals and the villagers his age would giggle and murmur behind their palms about the two of you. Didn’t help that you were an oblivious thing, or maybe you didn’t care, when you’d hold his hand in your own, occasionally bringing his fingertips to your lips during casual conversation. 

And he didn’t mind loving you endlessly when you were just two souls enjoying each other, but he can’t help but tense when his eyes wander and he sees watchful gazes. 

“Mighty warrior is a needy one, huh?” 

His friends, comrades since childhood, surround him on a sunny afternoon. Neteyam pauses his actions, arrow in the midst of a sharpening. 

His spine goes rigid and his eyes narrow. 

“What are you on about?” he asks, jaw locking. 

“Even in the moments you aren’t with her, you’re thinking about her,” his friend Marin says with a shiteating grin. 

“Don’t even,” Neteyam warns, eyes rolling as he continues with sharpening his arrows. 

“Oh, come on,” another one of his friends guffaws, twining a new bow string. “You haven’t said a word since we sat down.” 

And he wishes he could form a solid argument, but you are on his mind, all-consuming as always. Can’t help it when he’s pined after you for years and only recently found the courage to act on his heart. 

“Maybe I just don’t want to engage with you assholes,” Neteyam bites, fist tightening around his dagger. 

“Yeah, because if you open your mouth, all you’ll be able to talk about is my girl this and my girl that,” Marin teases. “Who knew future olo’eyktan was so clingy.” 

“Yeah, like it’s me who’s clingy,” he grunts, resuming the task at hand with much more fervor. 

“Is it not?” Marin challenges. “Oh, ________, my love, look at these flowers I picked for you.” 

The blood is rushing to his ears as his friends howl with laughter. 

“Syulang, I wrote you twelve pages declaring my love even though we’ve seen each other thrice since last eclipse.” The taunting makes him seethe, makes the feeling of discomfort surface all over again and the words are spilling before he can plug the dam. 

“Of course it’s not me,” Neteyam scoffs. “I keep my composure, but it’s her that insists on constantly reminding the village that we’re together. If I had it my way, nothing would have changed from when we were friends.”

It’s a lie and he knows it, his friends know it. But you, you who staggers outside of the training circle at the sound of multiple voices don’t know it. 

It’s like a swift strike to the gut, one that squashes every butterfly that tickled the lining of your stomach on your way to fetch the very man who’d held your heart and crushed it all the same. 

Your satchel, heavy with fruits and snacks for after your evening swim with Neteyam, weighs heavy across your front as you debate whether or not you should be listening to a conversation that is obviously not meant for your ear. But it’s like you’re rooted to the soil beneath you. 

“Yeah, okay,” Marin chuffs, obviously not convinced. “If you’re so bothered by your dynamic now, there isn’t any reason why you wouldn’t say anything. She’s your second skin and you love it.” 

He does, he thinks to himself. 

Of course he doesn’t, you realize, horrified, the thousand and one times your hands would find his body and he’d tense or shy away replaying like a horror reel in your brain. 

“I potentially hold the future of this clan in my hands,” Neteyam says. “It is my duty to endure all things whether or not I enjoy it.”

It’s like you’re doused with water so cold at the violent shiver that shakes your spine. 

Just another thing to endure, you mull over in your brain as the barge of emotions brims dangerously near the surface. 

You break from the edge of the clearing and you’re off. 

Something is off. 

And Neteyam is ashamed to admit that it takes him obnoxiously long to notice. Maybe it’s because he’s caught up in his duties, or maybe for once in his life, he isn’t worrying about meddlesome gazing, but the shift is imperceptible. 

You’re still you, so aching beautiful and devastatingly radiant, but something is different. He doesn’t pinpoint it until he’s bidding you a farewell, leaning into your space to plant a kiss on your lips when you ease away to beam at him nervously instead. 

His brows furrow when you wave, breaking away from him to scurry home. 

He thinks it’s a one off, something he shouldn’t read too much into, but he can’t help it. Not when he’s so used to your touch, so used to feeling the pads of your fingers denting his skin and the scald of your lips. 

He tries again a few nights later, after finally getting you alone. He’d been busy assisting his father in planning a raid at the end of the month and you were busy trying to put as much distance between the two of you.

“You’re awfully quiet, bug,” Neteyam observes softly, chin dipping under the water as he swims closer to where you float on the surface, eyes closed. 

You only hum, pleading silently that he’ll let it pass. But when his fingers skim your navel, you’re jerking away from him, settling so that a berth of glittering blue separates the two of you. 

He forces a laugh, wading closer to you as you seemingly shrink. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks when he sees something like discomfort flitting over your expression, concern eclipsing his features as he reaches forward to grab you by your arm. 

“Nothing…” you swallow, staring at the rounded stones beaded through the necklace you made him early on in your budding relationship.

He doesn’t buy it, tilting your chin up with deft fingers. 

“Hey, hey,” he says softly, searching your face for a tell. “Talk to me.” 

“Nothing,” you breathe, peeling away from him to wade back towards the embankment. “It’s nothing.” 

He watches as you hoist yourself up from the river, heart in his throat. 

He cracks when the others seem to notice, slowly catching onto the fact that the usually doting and loving partner of the olo’eyktan’s son is surprisingly distant. It’s during an evening meal, villagers surrounding the multiple fires, when it comes to a head. 

There’s an unusual space between your bodies as you chat with Kiri and a few others and he can’t help but close the gap as something akin to desperation washes over him. His fingers brush the span of your shoulders to pull you into his chest, lips a hairsbreadth from your temple before your palm snakes between your bodies and plants on his chest to nudge him away. 

He bites the inside of his cheek in annoyance as Marin and his other friends share knowing glances. 

While he boils silently, you ache to tell him that you don’t mean it, that there’s nothing more you’d want than to spend every waking moment in his arms, but that day in the clearing is a humiliating reminder that Neteyam is shackled to his honor and if it means making you happy despite his discomfort, he’d endure it all. 

You hate it, hate that he’d let you feel like things were alright leading up to this moment, that he’d suffer at the expense of mocking and badgering from his friends. Makes you feel embarrassed, sorry, that you’d read the two of you all wrong. 

You feel his fingers inching towards yours, pinkie overlapping with yours. Your hands involuntarily close into fists and that’s all it takes for Neteyam to shoot up from his perch on the log and take you by the elbow. 

There’s a hush as his friends and yours watch the two of you part ways with the group, the nearly feral look in their leader’s son suggestively mistaken. 

“Why won’t you touch me?” Neteyam asks fiercely, once enough distance lies between the two of you and the rest of the clan. 

His words make your cheeks warm, but he looks troubled, hurt. 

“I-” 

“Did I do something to disgust you? Did I…” 

His words melt into the background as you watch him with teary eyes. 

“You don’t have to pretend with me, Teyam,” you whisper. “You can tell me the truth. I’m a big girl.” 

“What are you talking about?” he asks, frustrated. “You’re the one hiding something. These past few weeks I’ve been trying to be with you, trying to love you and you keep pushing me away.” 

A twinge of annoyance erupts in the pit of your belly as you frown. 

“That’s rich coming from you,” you murmur hoarsely. 

“I’m so lost right now, ________,” he admits desperately. “We were fine, everything was great, and suddenly I feel like I’m losing you. Did I do something? Are you–” 

“Just be honest with me!” you cry out. “Why do you have to put on this front all the time? It’s just me, Neteyam! If I overwhelm you, if I embarrass you, just say it! It hurts worse when you act like it’s nothing.” 

And Christ, his friends were right. He is needy. Because you’re not a want but a lifeline. A dire necessity that he feels the need to cling to in this moment. This feels a lot like you two are splintering, and he’s about to open his mouth to ask what would compel you to say such a thing, but then it clicks. 

The final piece of the puzzle that he’d been agonizing over falls into place and his eyes are widening. 

“No,” he says vehemently. “That wasn’t–” 

“Is it not?” you cut him off as you dash the threatening tears away. 

“God, no,” he breathes. “I was– They were…”

You watch him with wet lashes and his heart aches as he takes the leap and pulls you into his chest with a shuddering breath. 

“I’m so stupid.” His chest rumbles as your ear presses to his heart, arms winding tightly around your figure to buoy you to place. “Fuck.” 

You hiccup and his hand cradles your head, peppering kisses against your hair as he sways your bodies like it’ll disorient the miscommunication and send it spiraling away. 

“I’m sorry,” you whimper. “I didn’t mean to be embarrassing. I–” 

“No, no, bug,” he swallows, hugging you so tight, you struggle to suck a breath into your lungs. “You’re not, I promise. I could never be embarrassed by you.” 

You shudder so hard his grip loosens, parting with you to cup your flushed cheeks in his hands. 

“They were ripping me a new one,” he says shakily. “Told me I was needy, clingy, and I was embarrassed because they’re right.” 

Your throat bobs and Neteyam’s thumb brushes over the apple of your cheeks. 

“You make me so weak, you don’t even understand,” he laughs humorlessly, body wracked with nerves, with want, with need. “I said it to save face because I never know what to do with myself around you.”

“You—”

“And I know it was wrong, talking out of my ass to get them to shut the fuck up,” his language is a crass reminder that he’s a former marine’s son, “but I don’t think I’ll ever get used to being yours.” 

Yours. 

It’s a sound declaration, one that makes you crumple like a baby because you’ve missed your person, and Neteyam hugs you close again. 

“I’m sorry I’m so clueless sometimes, bug,” he whispers, cheek nuzzling the top of your head. “Love you more than anything, I mean it.”

You hiccup again. 

“Love you, too, stupid” you mumble, arms wrapping around the narrow of his waist. 

It’s your first meaningful touch in weeks and Neteyam melts under the heat of your body, under the heat of your warm hands. 

neng © 2023

taglist; @nao-cchi , @jkiminpark , @philiasoul @amart-e , @s-u-t , @netesbby , @tayswiftlovebot , @dumb-fawkin-bitch , @ewackmn , @fanboyluvr , @neteyamoa , @itssiaaax , @girlpostingsposts , @athenachu

[antianakin]

I hope this doesn't come off as a knock on the Jedi - because that's sure as hell not my intention - but I do sometimes wonder what could convince a parent to hand their young child over to them. Like, I get that the number of Jedi is miniscule compared to the expected population of the galaxy, and this whole ask is likely just the result of my modern, western, nuclear family-based upbringing. But there are times when I can barely see such a thing happening at all. I mean, if you're a Jedi Seeker, what the hell are you supposed to say to get a mother to willingly give you her infant child?

Again, I do hope this doesn't come off as a knock on the Jedi and their methods.

Maybe consider that the Jedi never seem to be actively going out there trying to convince people into giving up their children. They primarily seem to discover children on their own or who are in bad situations, or the parents call THEM of their own volition and the Jedi simply respond to the call.

You can also look at TPM and the way Qui-Gon handles it with Shmi. Now obviously Shmi and Anakin are in a somewhat different situation than most, given that they're both slaves, which would probably make Shmi's reaction to the offer different than those of regular parents, but Qui-Gon treats her as an equal to himself and as an authority regarding Anakin. He respects that authority by speaking to SHMI before he speaks to Anakin, by asking Shmi different questions about Anakin's past and his powers. And it's Shmi who picks up on what Qui-Gon is carefully NOT saying and asks if Anakin could become a Jedi. And that question lets Qui-Gon know that Shmi isn't against the offer being made to Anakin, so when he makes it official, he speaks to ANAKIN directly. But even after that, he still seems to respect Shmi's authority and her place in Anakin's life when Anakin turns to her more than once.

Shmi seems to primarily just want a better life for Anakin. Even without the slavery situation, she seems to recognize that Anakin's abilities mean that he has the opportunity for a specific career path if he wants it and she chooses to give him that opportunity because she never wants to hold him back. She recognizes that it would be cruel to deny him the opportunity simply to keep him with her.

So it's possible some parents probably view it the same way, that they're giving their child the opportunity for a better life than the one they can offer themselves.

Other parents, like Ahsoka's, seem to view being a Jedi as something of an honor. Even though they CAN give Ahsoka a good life, they recognize that Ahsoka has perhaps a greater destiny that they shouldn't stand in the way of and are HAPPY when Ahsoka shows signs of Force sensitivity. It's not just an honor for Ahsoka, it's an honor for her family and the entire village that she has the opportunity to become a Jedi. The other thing to take into account with this scenario is that the Jedi are sort-of seen as following a call to destiny of sorts, and there appear to be communities who understand that better than most, which means they're likely more inclined to let their child follow that call if the signs make themselves apparent. Groups with their own Force sects (like Lasat, Kel Dor, Chalacatans, etc) might be some of the ones more likely to understand this, which is why we see some of them with multiple family members in the Order at the same time.

These seem to be the most likely options for why a parent might give their child to the Jedi even if they love the child and would otherwise want to keep and raise them. There are also likely some parents who simply don't WANT a Force sensitive child for whatever reason, or parents who just take the first opportunity to offload an unwanted child when it presents itself. Not every parent is a good one, obviously.

I've seen some people argue that Force sensitivity might be something very difficult for a non-Force sensitive parent to deal with, and so they give the child away because they ultimately decide that they cannot appropriately raise a child with powers they cannot control. I don't really buy into this one because neither Luke nor Leia are raised by Force sensitive parents and there doesn't seem to be any issues with control there that we ever see or hear about. But it's POSSIBLE a parent might believe that they couldn't manage a child with Jedi powers and give them up on that assumption, even if it isn't true.

So, yeah, there could be any number of reasons a parent might choose to give their child to the Jedi, even if they love the child and would otherwise want to raise them. It isn't a choice that's going to be for everyone, obviously, and the Jedi have an entire list of people who have either said no or maybe/not yet that they keep in the Temple as a record. So some parents DO say no and choose to raise their children on their own even if the opportunity to give their child to the Jedi is made available to them. Or they simply need time to make the decision or want a little extra time WITH the child before giving them to the Jedi even if they know that that's ultimately what they're going to do.

I don't think the Jedi ever say anything to "get" a parent to give up a child they love. That's never their goal. Qui-Gon talks to Shmi about what Anakin's powers are and how they work, he tells her what her options are, and then leaves the rest of it up to her. All he does is give her more information to work with and an opportunity to act on it if she so desires. That's it. I can't imagine any other Jedi doing any more than that unless the situation between the parent and the child was particularly dangerous somehow and even then, I imagine there are lines they'd try not to cross. The whole episode where we see Cad Bane pretending to be a Jedi in order to convince the parents to give up their children shows us that the parents really DON'T expect the Jedi to do this kind of thing and feel perfectly entitled to say no when it happens.

It's not a choice every parent is going to make, and that's fine. It's not a choice that everyone even needs to UNDERSTAND, necessarily. Different people are going to have different ideas of what's best for their child and how to go about providing that. One parent might feel like giving their child away IS the best thing they can do for their child, even if they could give that child a wonderful life. Another parent might feel like that's the worst thing they could do to their child, even if their situation isn't ideal. These parents are likely to never understand the decision the other one made, but they're making decisions out of the same desire to protect and care for their child. Both are entirely valid choices and there isn't necessarily a right or wrong choice in this situation and that's what the Jedi would understand. All they're there to do is offer information and the opportunity to both parent and child, nothing more, nothing less. What the parent (and the child if they're old enough) does with that is entirely up to them.

[hazerun3]

I just saw your post about the difference between passive and swan. I'd like to ask the difference between young swad and dream?

shittier doodle this time cuz Im getting tired but the ramblings are probably more unhinged

I dont have particularly strong feelings on dream so this is gonna be mostly younger swad and comparisons to dream when needed

-Views social interaction as inherently transactional and as a game that he can learn to play (he doesnt realise that in the village he was never going to be a player on equal ground, this is why after his ascension his persona is more deity ified rather than a king or smth like nm cuz he wants to be Above it all and in control.)

-Been obsessed with swan even as passives (His Duty to help people got drilled into him, the village feels entitled to his help and swad slowly grows tired of them, but his little brother is always kind to him and doing things for him feels so much more rewarding [tho eventually the village tries to stifle any attempts swad does to get something nice for his brother which frustrates swad so much and swan not asking for anything and just being happy to see him and trying so hard just to make swad happy, even as hes hurt fuels this.] so the mix of the sense of duty, him being the older brother so self imposing a sense of responsibility and swan being nice to him leads him to adopt a mentality where Swan is the only one whos special and actually cares about him not just what he can do for him, but with the way hes raised by the village he tries desperately to try and do something for swan in return cuz he still feels like hes failing in his part of the social bargain)

-Also the cult village placed sooooo much value on stuff like never being angry, always being happy :), youre not allowed to be mean, you Must be hardworking all the time, visibly showing that youre sad is Evil. And swad seethes constantly cuz no one in this fucking village follows that and the one person who embodies all these values the most is swan (who everyone still hates for reasons inexplicable to swad, who believes theres still a way to get swan out of his outcast status if the village just realises that swan is the kindest soul in this rotten place.)

-Dream maintains a more "child" status in the village even as hes older than when swad fights to "adult" status, seeing it as a way to get more social power cuz he picked up that Adults have more power than Children but lol not for him, he just gets to have more responsibilites, the expectation to cut off swan and no money OR gifts for his work cuz gifts are for children doing chores not working adults and since its both swads duty and the fact that he doesnt have anything to spend it on that wouldnt be spending it unwisely they just dont pay him at all! and also hes an object not an adult to them so rushing to try and be an adult backfired miserably

-Swad loves listening to swan read stories to him, reallly wants to be the Prince who saves the damsel and sets his enemies on fire and he projects that persona

-Both he and dream were taken hunting I think, but dream didnt take to it (he had a knack for archery but as soon as he was told to turn that arrow on an innocent bunny he couldnt do it, his more "child" status helps him get out of it) swad was also aprehensive at first but since he places a lot of importance in being the Older Brother and being responsible (also he wants to kill people) so he shoots the bunny, he feels bad and cries about it to swan but he cant let go of the feeling, the smell of blood, the idea of that being someone who hurt swan

-in my head he killed people already lol (used the hunting trips as cover but his hit list is soooooo long and he gets less and less opportunity...)

-he loves shiny things so much but being materialistic and greedy is one of the sins, swan cant get him anything but he does press little flower ornaments for his brother and so much flower jewlery so that swad can roleplay being a prince.

-he hates everyone soooooooo much <3

[thoughtsfromlayla]

My Dearest Defiance

Summary:  Equal as an Endless, more than a human, yet less than a god. Where did you even belong? The question has haunted you since you first saw humanity rise into power. Now your brother has been kidnapped and you can't do anything to help him.

Notes: ~7.5k words, This fic is a follow-up to this post sent in by the lovely @kpopgirlbtssvt, thank you so much for the idea! I took a few liberties with the plot and I hope that's okay with you!

Warnings: Platonic! Big Brother x little sister! Reader, *side eyes* a lot of angst, violence, physical abuse, heavy mentions of cancer, implied alcohol consumption, minor Dreaming mind-fuckery, death of Reader (you come back...ish), death of characters, comfort in the end :)

Masterlist

Mother Night and Father Time, the first lovers, the everlasting lovers. And it was through their love that the Endless were born. Your eldest brother Destiny came first, birthed in dark cloaks and the book that was named after him. He is in charge of the fate of every being to live. 

Every being who has lived must follow the path of this fate and fate always ends in Death, your eldest sister. When Mother and Father realized that the humans must do something while waiting for Death, they birthed your favorite brother, Dream. He is hope, the one who gives the humans courage to stand up for themselves and make do with their lives. Soon, humans wanted more and in succession, the rest of your siblings were born: Destruction, Desire, Despair, and sweet Delight soon to be Delierum. 

While every Endless was busy tending to their own realms and their own duties, you were born. Endless in name but not in power. You were the runt of the family, with no realm to call your own, and no responsibilities of your own. Yet here you stood amongst the humans that soon called you Defiance, the human spirit, the resilience to continue despite all odds. 

You’re sure your siblings knew of you, certainly enough to be invited to family dinner once every 100 years. Yet you could never shake the feeling of inadequacy when you were sat at the far end, only to be over-talked by everyone. They were discussing important matters, after all, nothing that you had to concern yourself with. 

You only find solace in Dream, where no matter how difficult the days get, you may always find a home in his realm. While he is adamant about letting you stay in the castle, you find it more comfortable to live in a cottage at the edge of the realm where the forest meets with the vast unknown and you grow vegetables from the soil you tow. It also allows you to escape to the waking world without Dream knowing.

You love humans, their lives fascinate you to no end. They know of you, just as they know of all of your Endless siblings, but sometimes it just takes a little more for them to realize. You would never push them to admit to your existence and somewhere along the millions of years of existence, you have given up trying to be the center of attention. 

To understand humans is to live like them, talk like them, and love like them. Unfortunately, humans are more than that and often succumb to feelings of anger, depression, righteousness, and violence. You try not to associate yourself with those emotions, but it’s innate. 

It’s been a few weeks since you stepped foot in Dream’s castle, and who could blame you? The village in which you reside is much more fun than the dreary castle your brother tends to enjoy more. The thick castle wall blocks out the sunlight, it’s filled with dust and smells of wet stones and old books. Not to mention, when Dream was busy, there was no one to talk to. Lucienne was always busy, picking up after her King, and you don’t even want to get started on Mervin. 

He’s only nice to you cause you gave him his pumpkin head when his original turnip head started going out of style. Otherwise, it’s cigar smoke being blown into your face and sassy remarks. 

You’re out in the market square when you feel the presence of your Endless Sibling. You turn from the flower vendor with a big smile and wave at Dream as he makes his way towards you. The dreams that he created step to the side in the presence of their sovereign.

“Brother!” You exclaim when he gets close enough for you, wrapping one of your arms around his while the woven basket hangs in the other. 

The basket was filled with a few apples and a fresh loaf of bread. You were just about to buy a few glass snowdrop flowers before you were pleasantly surprised by Dream. 

“How do you do this afternoon, dear sister?” He speaks, leaning into your face to tease you. 

You giggle at him as the two of you walk the main road, passing dreams and nightmares alike, a few waving at you in greeting that you return.

“I’m doing great. I was thinking of going to the waking world later today and spending some time with Death, actually.” You respond, your arm leaves Dream’s as a different vendor catches your eyes. They were selling acrylic paints in colors that you haven’t seen since half a century ago. 

“Here, hold this,” You say as you hand off your basket to Dream. He does as he’s told and holds the basket, the white paint offputting to his otherwise completely black outfit. 

You grab a few jars of paint and can already think of the wonderful things to draw when you get back into your cottage. There was a specific lake nearby that you haven’t been able to do justice to, but you think you finally can with the new color. 

A brief conversation of exchange happens between you and the vendor before you turn around. You burst out laughing at the sight before you. Dream stood in the middle of the road where you had first told him to hold your basket and hadn’t moved an inch. His shoulders were stiff and taught as he held your basket as far away from his body as possible. 

“It’s not going to bite you, you know!” You practically cackle at him. Your giggles follow you as you carefully place the jars of paint into your basket. You think that you will paint some flowers and ivy onto your basket later tonight. 

You go to take the basket back from him but he’s quick to move it away from your grabby hands. 

“You specified that I should hold it, so hold it I shall,” He says and holds the basket higher, just out of your reach, when you go to grab at it again. 

You huff at his rather stubborn behavior, but he’s been like this since the beginning. He always looks after you and takes care of you. You’re always grateful for it, but you can carry your own basket. You resolve the conversation with a roll of your eyes but the smile on your face stays in place when you turn your back to him. 

Dream walks you home, basket now significantly heavier and full of things you didn’t really need. Well, except maybe the paint, it’s good to splurge every once in a while. Your cottage is basked in a warm light as the Dreaming’s sun slowly disappears beyond the horizon to rise in another universe. The pie you had baked this morning had long since cooled and you brought it inside with a hum, your brother still following you. 

He set the basket on the simple kitchen table before taking a seat and watching you slice up the pie with a smile. You set the pastry down in front of him and another plate for yourself. The savory apple flavoring takes over the senses when you take the first delicious bite. 

“I would like you to come back to the castle soon,” Your brother says as you take another bite. 

“Whatever for?” You question, a little bit of apple filling falling out of your mouth. “The cottage is my home.”

Dream sighs but answers anyway. “I will be gone for a moment, I need to take care of a rouge nightmare,  and would like you to be cared for while I am away from the Dreaming.”

“How long will you be gone for you to want me to live in that dreadful place?” You make a face as you think about the boring days ahead of you. Well, maybe you can escape to the castle garden if Mervin isn’t paying attention. 

“I cannot tell you for I do not know.” 

You purse your lips as you think about his request. “Fine,” You groan. 

“Best not see Sister Death today.” When you don’t bother with a response he speaks against “Farwell, sister. I will be back soon,” He promises you before standing. You didn’t get the chance to follow him to the door before he leaves, his apple pie still untouched. 

“Ugh, how wasteful.” You joke to yourself. 

You spend the rest of your evening painting your basket as you had wanted before packing up a few items for the castle. Your basket was a gift from your brother and had an infinite amount of storage. So you managed to shove an extensive amount of your wardrobe, the paints, and some of the freshly baked pastries into the small wooden thing. You set off when the moon was high in the sky and the stars came down from their afternoon nap and danced in the village square. 

Their stardust shoes clink like pure jade against the cobblestone road, illuminating the otherwise quiet and sleeping town. A few wave  at you, shimmering particles following their movements before they return to their waltz. You wave back to them before continuing on your journey, mindful of where you stepped. 

When stars come down to the Dreaming they become transparent and more gaseous than solid but that doesn’t stop them from burning hot. And unless you wanted to recounter that one time you stepped through one and started sneezing and coughing stardust for the next 10 years, you’ll keep your distance - only allowing for their natural light to guide your way out of the village and towards the castle. 

By the time you reach the castle, Dream is nowhere to be found and you assume he went out to do what he mentioned earlier that day. Your room was set up for you,  Dream obviously had some palace staff tidy up the room as you took a look around the clean environment. Otherwise, everything was in the same place you had left it since the last time you were at the castle. You yawn as you set your basket down by the door. First a good night’s rest, then you can go to the waking world to do your own things. 

You sneak out of the castle a few minutes before dawn, the soft bed and good night’s rest giving you the energy you need to do so. You grimace when the door creaks loudly as you slowly open it, smelling the early morning dew on the grass and the warming dawn wind. 

“Where are you headed, my dear?” A voice stops you in your tracks. You suck your lips into your mouth as you soon recognize the voice. 

“Good morning, Lucienne,” You greet curtly, holding, or rather, hiding, your basket behind your black skirt. 

Lucienne gives you a pointed look. “Yes, good morning.” 

You give her a smile before stepping back out the door, only to be stopped when she purposefully clears her throat. 

“The question?” She presses.

You feign innocence and bat your eyelashes, not that it would work. “What question?”

“Lady Defiance, my Lord specifically states that I keep my eyes on you.” Lucienne holds her hands behind her back as she takes her stance. 

“By all means, keep your eyes - hey what’s that?!” You gawk as you point behind Lucienne. 

Lucienne snaps her head around to look at what you were so surprised by. She doesn’t see or sense anything when she does. It’s about two seconds of her searching before she realizes that she has been duped. When she turns around the door is swinging shut and you are nowhere to be seen. She slams the door open and only sees the last of your figure disappearing on the horizon.

You’re still giggling to yourself about pulling off that little trick when you reach the ocean of the Dreaming. The little wooden dock creaks under your weight as you skip across it. Having done this traveling before, you jump right in with a squeal, holding your nose close so you don’t get any water in. 

The water pushes and pulls but you don’t fight the current knowing that it will take you where you wanted to go. When you emerge, you cough once and the water falls off your body, leaving you dry in cloudy 1916 England. You wrap your blazer closer to your body as the wind picks up and leave the alleyway. The familiar smell of roasted peanuts from street vendors and car fumes tickles your nose when you turn the corner to walk into the hospital. 

“Hi, I’m here to visit Genny, uh, Geniveve, Geniveve Colemen,” You correct yourself to the receptionist. The woman nods and looks down at her computer. 

“She’s in the same room, 443. Here’s your visitor’s pass.” She hands you a laminated badge on a lanyard. 

You thank her before wearing the lanyard and going towards the nearest elevator. The elevator smelled of shoe polish and disinfectant spray and it made your nose crinkle. You just hope the smell doesn’t transfer onto your clothes. 

When you reach your destination, you knock on Genny’s door before entering. She wears her hospital gown and was reading a book when she looks up. A smile pasters onto her face when she sees you.

“Y/N!” She drops her book and sits up straighter. 

“Genny!” You exclaim back with the same amount of excitement. You place your basket by her bed before pulling out a fresh vase of flowers and setting it by her bedside table. 

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever, what have you been up to?” She asks.

“Yeah, my mother took me to some private tutor to help me study for my tests,” You lie through your teeth as you fluff the flowers to make them look more appealing. 

You tuck your school skirt underneath you when you sit down next to Genny and reach for your basket again. “I brought you some homebaked goods. I know this hospital’s food has got to be horrendous.” 

You bring out the baked loaf of bread you bought the day before and rip off a slice for her. She takes the loaf and inhales the scent. 

“Gosh, Y/N, I don’t know how you make such good baked goods. Your husband will be a lucky one if you stop trying to chase them off.” She giggles and muffles through her full mouth. 

You laugh with her, sparing her the details of your actual life. You bring forth the lie you had carefully planted yourself as instead. A straight-A student that goes to the same school as Genny before she was diagnosed with cancer, how you were her best friend that visited her when you got the chance, how you had gotten onto the school council and despite all of her poking and prodding, she would not get to know what the school formal’s dance theme is going to be unless she went with you tomorrow to the dance. You try not to think about how frail she has gotten since the first time you’ve met her. Her collarbones were poking out and you can see how hard it was for her to take even breaths. 

When she asks you again later in the visit about the school dance you rebuttal quickly. 

“Are you going to come to the dance with me?” You laugh. “Speaking of which, I got you a dress, too!” You go back to your basket, pulling out a formal dress, and setting it in front of Genny. 

“Wow! Look at the bead stitching,” She says, running a delicate finger over the beading and gems then over the lacing. 

“I’ve got a good eye, don’t I?” You sit back down with a smile and a tilt of the head. “It matches my dress, too.”

“What about your own date?”

“Oh, please, I don’t have time for boys!” You giggle again, hiding behind the lie that you don’t actually go to her school. 

“Oh alright, I suppose I must go to the dance with you so you won’t be lonely.” Genny surrenders. 

You smile at her, happy she finally agreed. “You’re a great friend.” 

Genny coughs after your compliment and you’re quick to reach for the water and hand it over to her. When she sits up to drink you go to fluff her pillow. Genny lays back down with a sigh and all of the warmth that was in the room leaves through the window. She looks like she’s aged when she looks at you again, another cough crawling its way past her throat. 

“I’ll leave you to rest,” You say, turning around to grab your things. 

“No,” Genny refuses. “Can you stay for a little bit longer?” She coughs again and holds your hand weakly. “I want to feel like a normal girl for a little while longer.”

“Okay,” You whisper and sit back down, feeling the chill of the hospital around your ankles. 

You watch over her as she falls asleep, the conversation taking the last of her energy. You begin to stare off into space, thinking about your life. You did your best with the gift of immortality, but as you stare at Genny’s tense face, you wish you could do more. Equal as an Endless, more than a human, yet less than a god. Where did you even belong? The question has haunted you since you first saw humanity rise into power. 

Your thoughts leave you when you feel the beating of wings and a flush of wind from the door. Your head snaps and you see your sister standing there in her black tank top and the same combats boots you wore. 

“Sister Death,” You greet with a small smile, previous thoughts disappearing. “What brings you here today?” 

Your sister only smiles at you. Your excitement of seeing your sister again is soon taken over by dread. You look between your sister and your friend and the dots connect. 

“Oh... what? No!” You stand abruptly between your sister and Genny. “No! She still has so much to do in life!” You try to reason with her. 

“You cannot bargain with me, Defiance. You know that,” She says in her soft voice. 

“I don’t care,” Your lips form into a line. “At least let her go to the dance with me?” You try one more time. 

Death sighs with exaggeration. “Fine, but not an hour more.” 

“Thanks…” You’re not entirely sure how you managed to pull that off, unbeknownst to you that your sister has a soft spot for you much like Dream. 

Your sister looks you up and down before she leans on the door. “So how are you doing, then?” 

You look off to the side when you answer. “Fine,” You grumble out. 

She lets out a huff, or perhaps a laugh, you can’t really tell. “Would you like to go on a walk with me?”

It was a tempting offer, after all, you haven’t spent time with your sister in a while. You thought about it for a little while longer. “No,” You end up refusing. 

“Genny asked me to stay a little while longer, so I shall.” You turn away from your sister and sit back down in the uncomfortable hospital chair. You keep your head straight, looking after Genny, and don’t take your eyes off her even when you hear your sister departing. 

When she does, a tremble runs over your body. You feel tears prick at your lashline as you come to terms with the fact that your friend will be dying soon. You did your best to prevent the inevitable, but with no powers of your own, it’s only a waiting game now. 

You leave when visiting hours are over, Genny has yet to wake up from her nap. You leave the rest of the loaf on her bedside table, and a slice of your apple pie. You decide to tidy up the room as quietly as you can and hang her dress on the hook that was nailed to the wall. With one final look at her, you leave, only hoping that your sister doesn’t go back on her word and take her before her allotted time. 

You spend the rest of the evening in the waking world, catching up on new things the humans have done with their time. You end your day on a park bench, illuminated only by a single street lamp. The park was quiet, you’re only accompanied by the sound of crickets and the wind along the trees. You take in a deep breath of fresh air. Oh, how you have missed this. If only it was closer to summer vacation, you would’ve taken Genny to the beach and had some sun time with her. 

When you are done relaxing you go to the pond at the center of the park, the fountain in the middle still squirting out water and creating magnificent shapes and splashes along the surface. You could see the stars' reflection rippling as you peer at the lake over a bridge. The wind blows and you close your eyes to savor the moment. 

“I wouldn’t jump if that’s what you’re thinking,” Someone says next to you. 

You open your eyes and turn to see a man standing next to you, no older than 20. He takes off his hat when you speak. 

“I wasn’t, but thank you,” You reply simply and go back to looking out towards the expanding city. He doesn’t leave your side despite your answer and it gets a bit awkward.

“Are you thinking of jumping? Because I would also not recommend that, sir,” You turn to him again and see him laughing. 

“No,” He says. “I am just here to think.”

“Just like me then. What bothers your mortal mind?” You ask. 

“Many things… I’m afraid I have let my family down.” 

“How so?”

“We came here on a boat from the motherland, nothing to our name but a few pennies. I was supposed to go to college and finally put our family on the map. But I failed and now here I am, talking to a stranger on a bridge in the middle of the night.”

You laugh along with him. You knew of him and saw his dreams a few times when you went out exploring in the Dreaming. He wanted to be a doctor, specifically an athletic injuries doctor but failed out of medical school before he even got the chance. You rack your brain to think of his name, and when it comes to you, you speak. 

“Do not worry, Albert Brocken, I’m sure there are many opportunities that will come alight in the near horizon. Perhaps you should take the entrance exam again, and see where it takes you.” You yawn and you realize that you should probably start heading home. 

“Yeah… maybe I should,” He concludes with a sigh. “I think I might go into somnology,” He says more to himself than you. 

“Somnology sounds fascinating,” You agree. “I must go home now, but best of luck to you!” You walk away, your shoes barely audible on the stone bridge over the gushing fountain. Albert doesn’t look your way when you depart, too focused on his new goal in life. 

You find yourself standing before an old winding cottonwood tree in the same park. It’s been here for years, growing into the magnificent tree it is today. It’s passed by thousands of England residents almost every day, yet none of them are willing to stare at it hard enough to realize that the bark of the tree isn’t real. 

You take one last look around the park to make sure no one else sees you before walking straight into the tree, the danging leaves caressing you like a gentle mother’s touch. The trunk of the tree turns into a curtain of falling sand and you pass through with no problems. When you emerge on the other side, the bright moon of the Dreaming greets you, illuminating and basking you in a soft welcome. When you come back into the castle, Lucienne is on top of you like a hot iron. 

“Thank the Gods you are well,” She panics as she holds your arms. After taking a good overall look at you, she wraps her arms around your body and brings you into a hug. 

“Lucienne?” Your question muffled against her crisp uniform. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, my dear, you hadn’t come back all day. I thought perhaps…” She trails off before she takes a breath. “Lord Morpheus hasn’t returned, and neither had you, so I presumed the worst.”

“Morpheus hasn’t returned?”

“No, but you are here. Tell me, did you see him while you were in the waking world today?” Lucienne holds hope in her eyes and you resent the next word you say.

“No,” Your thoughts trailed off. “Morpheus hasn’t returned?” You ask again.

“I am sure there is nothing to worry about. I may just be overthinking is all.” Lucienne reassures you. 

“Okay…” You don’t completely believe her, somewhere deep inside you you can feel that Morpheus is in danger. As the King of Dreams and Nightmares, a rouge nightmare shouldn’t be anything to be worried about. He should be home by now. 

Your eyes close as soon as your head hits the pillow, but thoughts consume you. After the dance tomorrow night with Genny, you will go searching for your brother. The following day came quickly and you paced back and forth in the castle hall, the formal dress you had on jingling with your movements. Your thoughts were in overdrive, there was Morpheus of course, but you also knew that tonight was going to be Genny’s last day. And knowing that puts a weight on your shoulders. You have to make sure that tonight is going to be the best night of her life. 

When the time came, you went to the waking world feeling dolled up and in an antique car with the roof down. Your hair had enough hairspray to survive a storm from Zeus himself. You pull up to the hospital in a screech, Genny already waiting for you in the lobby. You check your lipstick in the mirror one last time before Genny reaches your car. 

“You know how to drive?!” Genny says with a smile and excitement that you found contagious. 

You resecure the silk scarf that protected your hair from the wind and open a pair of sunglasses to put over your eyes. You look at her over the bridge of your nose, your eyes shining past the sunglasses before stepping on the gas pedal.

“I know how to do many things, sweet Genny!” You shout over the wind, pushing the glasses back to their original position. 

Each time you looked over at Genny, her smile still hadn’t faltered and the last bits of the sun’s rays caught on the embroidery of her dress. Her softness brings a smile to your face and for a moment you forget about your brother. 

You pull into the gravel driveway of the school formal’s destination. You had managed to weasel your way into the school council and they were able to get help from the local people. The theme for this year's dance was “A Magical Night” and a local citizen opened his manor to the students for the night. He called himself a mage, something that you rolled your eyes at as magic has been rare in this world since the faeries left it half a century ago. But you kept that to yourself, if he wanted to play make-believe, then so let him. 

Students were already lining up outside the decorated manor when the two of you arrived. You hand your keys off to a valet and walk towards the door, hand in hand with Genny. Her excitement buzzed through her like a shot of tequila. 

When you cross over the threshold of the manor you are genuinely surprised at the decorations of the place. The ballroom had been cleared out and a live band was playing music for students to dance to. There was a bar on the far end of the ballroom serving drinks and small snacks. A doorman takes your jacket away from you before you grab Genny’s hand and head to the dance floor. 

Many of Genny’s old friends soon recognize her and start to surround you two, the night is still young and the sound of laughter soon fills the air. You and Genny danced the night away until you both were sweaty and out of breath. Your make-up had gone a bit smudged but you didn’t mind. It was nearing midnight when most of the students started to leave and you pulled Genny away for one last surprise. 

Genny started to slow down a bit, the exercise of the dance sapping away her energy. She pulls through though and follows you to a winding staircase that leads to one of the roofs of the manor. The spring air chills you to your bone, but it is well received after the sweat you have built up. You help Genny sit down before you sit down next to her, the shingles of the roof poking through your dress in an uncomfortable way. 

A satisfied sigh leaves your lips when you look out to the vast countryside behind the manor. The stars twinkle as far as the eyes can see and from your advantage point, no trees are blocking the view either. Genny pants beside you as she calms herself down from the climb and leans her head against your shoulder. 

“I am so glad you made me come to this dance,” She whispers as she looks out to the stars. 

“Me too,” You agree, you begin the absentmindedly swing your legs back and forth. Your heels come loose and slip from your feet and both you and Genny laugh at it. 

“Gosh, I hope that didn’t hit anyone,” She continues to laugh as she cautiously peers over the side. 

“Or else they’d have to smell my stinky feet, ewww!” You continue her joke. 

Her laugh turns into a cough and your mood shifts to melancholy. 

A shift in the winds tells you that her time will soon be up. “Genny,” You start. “My sister is going to be here soon.”

“Oh, really? I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“Yes, I have a huge family actually.”

“Well, tell me about your sister,” She smiles, head feeling heavier as she puts her full weight on your shoulder. 

“She is really sweet, and a soft, kind-hearted soul. Just like you, I suppose.” You say. 

Genny doesn’t reply and tears prick your eyes. When you turn your head you see Genny standing up with a smile, yet her body still remains on your shoulder. Behind her stands your sister, a reassuring smile and a gentle hand rest around Genny in a side hug. 

“Your sister says that she’ll take great care of me,” She starts and looks at Death with a solemn smile. “Will she?” 

“Yeah, she’s one of the best…” Your voice dips into a murmur as you feel your lips tremble. 

Your answer is enough for her and she turns to leave. She seems to have remembered something as she turns back around and wraps her hands around your shoulders, her ghostly figure slightly falling through your physical form. 

“I’ll see you again, right?” Genny asks, hope lines her figure and you can’t bear to see it fade. 

“Yes,” You lie through your teeth. “Good-bye.” 

She turns to leave with your sister, blissfully unaware of your last farewell. The sound of Death’s beating wings was the last thing you heard before it was just the barren countryside again. Genny’s body grows cold by your side as you pet her hair for the last time. 

The manor staff came soon when you faked a scream and soon ambulances came and went with her body. You’re left in the aftermath of a romantic dream of confection and ribbons alone in the middle of the dance floor feeling numb. 

“Hey, lady, if you’re going to stand here moping you can at least help out,” A staff member calls out and you snap out of your thoughts. 

He hands you a few foldable chairs and tells you to put them up. You nodded along, not really having much else to do. You meander through the halls when you realize that he didn’t tell you where to put the chairs. It’s when you find yourself at a set of stairs that lead down towards the basement. And to you, it made all logical sense for humans to store their things in the basement. 

You open the heavy double doors and descend further into the musky basement. Candles were lit on the stairs and its melted wax coats the edges as it lightens the path. When you get to the bottom, you’re greeted by the host of the party that you met earlier in the night. 

“What are you doing here, girl!” He scolds. 

You hold up the chairs, unaware of his tone. “Hi, Mr. Burgess. I’m helping with clearing up after the dan…” Your final word trails off as your eyes wander past his figure. 

Behind him sits your brother and your jaw drops. Mr. Burgess tries to stand between you and him when he notices that your attention is no longer on him. Dream stands fully in his glass prison and you would have made fun of the fact that he was fully rocking out in his birthday suit if not for the situation at hand. 

“Oh, what the fuck,” You whisper, dropping the chairs.

You breeze past Mr. Burgess and stand before Morpheus. Golden runes that surround his prison stop you short as if there was some sort of invisible force field. Your head whips around and faces your host again. He stands tall as he stares back. 

“Why do you have my brother in a-a… fucking FISH BOWL!” Your words stumble out at the utter audacity of the situation, your hands moving around expressively. 

Realization dawns on him and you realize that you made a mistake. “So, you are one of his family. That man warned me about your kind. Which one are you.” He seethes as he walks towards you. 

“You face Defiance of the Endless,” You spit back at him.

You were in no mood to play, first, your friend dies in your arms and then you learn that Lucienne’s suspicions were right and that something did happen to your brother. This whole time he had been here under your feet while you were having fun. His clothes, tools, and dignity stripped from him as you drank enough sparkling cocktails to make Dionysus jealous. 

The man scoffs at you and spits at your feet. “Oh please, and I thought that it was going to be hard. I’ve heard of you, little girl. They told me that you are nothing, a nobody. You have no realm, no powers, you are barely a god.”

You stay silent as he speaks, rage flushes through your body and your muscles tremble. His words rang true, but here you shall stand for your brother. He advances on you and you find that you have nowhere to go. A sharp pain burns across your cheek as his pierced cane comes into contact with your skin. 

Your body follows the force as it throws you off balance. Your head cracks against the stone floor of the basement and a gasp leaves you. Your vision blurs from the hit and you feel warm blood sliding down your cheek like an unshed tear. In the distance of your mind, you hear Dream slamming his fist against his glass prison. You stand again, determined to not be bested by a mere mortal. 

His cane comes down again like a whip, hitting your shins and then once again on the back of your knees. The blow forces you to kneel before him, and your cries of pain echo in your head. The coarse floor scratches at your palm but you keep your breath as even as you can. 

“Is that all you got?” You sneer as you look up at him through your eyelashes. 

His foot comes towards your face and you squeeze your eyes shut right before the impact follows. Your body tumbles further away from Dream, but his slamming continues. You feel the wall behind you, its surface cooling down your heating body. 

“Stop, I command you to stop!” Morpheus shouts, command muffled.

“Dream of the Endless commands you to stop,” You repeat your brother's words. You use the wall to brace yourself to stand on wobbling legs.

Iron fills your mouth and you spit it out back at Burgess’ feet, much like he did to you before. You grin when you see him grimace at the act. You wipe your mouth clean with the back of your hand, very unladylike, but between the three of you, who is going to judge? 

A backhanded slap snaps your head to the side and another painful scream follows. 

“Stop! Cease yourself or face my wrath!” Dream continues to scream as your vision blurs again. 

“No, I can take it,” Your voice is coarse but the message is heard loud and clear. 

“Oh, you can take it, hmm?” Burgess taunts and his cane jabs into your abdomen. 

You feel like you couldn’t breathe, that no matter how much your mouth gaped open, oxygen didn’t fill in your lungs as you needed it to. 

“I can take it,” You wheeze out again, another hit forces you back down and this time you don’t have the strength to get up again. 

“I suppose one step higher than capturing an Endless is to kill one,” Burgess laughs on top of you. His heavy body straddles you and you feel his hands wrap around your neck. 

Black dots swarm your vision like the expanding universe. Your nails claw at his hands, drawing blood, as your body tries its best to fight back. Burgess picks you up by the neck and slams your back down, stars waltz behind your eyelids and a brief vision of home comforts you. A ragged breath crawls through your throat before another slam into the ground silences you. Despite your efforts, your hands grow limp and you feel your body start to break down. It flakes away like spring cherry blossom petals as you take your last breath. 

“No!” Dream’s scream is the last thing you hear. 

Your consciousness fades to black and it is quiet for once. It’s odd to think that an immortal being can die, but it’s true. The only thing that differentiates it is that you could be reborn. Immortality is a fickle thing. 

When you come back into consciousness, you can feel the Dreaming heal your soul. It wraps its warmth around you like a soft blanket and you finally feel safe enough to stop everything that ran through your mind. When you stretch out your limbs you realize that you weren’t in your human form anymore. 

Your perception spans further and you can see new angles you haven’t seen before through your eyes. You wiggle your toes, or what you thought were your toes and feel soft and fertilizing soil below you. When you look down you notice that your legs have turned into the soft bark of a willow tree. Your arms shake and the reaching leaves of the tree shake from the action. You sigh and your bark groans and creeks under your deflation. 

You soon become a welcomed resident in Fiddler’s Green, providing shade for the decreasing amount of dreamers that come to visit you. As the years pass, the Dreaming starts to die around you as Morpheus stays entrapped under the Burgess Manor. You stay as a tree, unable to move and help. Guilt eats you alive, leaving your core to rot from the inside out. 

Lucienne comes to visit now and then, but as the castle starts to fall apart, she can’t find the time to come by anymore. Your days grow lonelier as Fiddler’s Green decides to leave the Dreaming as well. You stand on dry soil in a barren wasteland. Your inaction keeping you hostage like a ladybug in a spiderweb. The more you struggled, the harder you found it to keep your human consciousness. 

So, you did the most human you could think of: you cried. Fitting, you thought to yourself, a weeping willow, well, weeping. Your tears came to fruition in the form of vibrant yellow blossoming flowers against the beige and cracking surroundings. 

You stayed like that for the next 106 years. Your roots had grown so long that you could feel each corner of the dreaming, searching high and low for water to drink from. Soon, even that would run out. Another tear runs down your bark, your trunk growing deep grooves where the previous century of tears had carved. Despite all odds, your leaves were still vibrant and your flowers would change colors based on your mood. A trick that took you a few decades to learn. 

The moon rises higher and higher over the horizon. You follow its path, counting the fragments to keep your mind from boredom. It split in half 15 years after Dream’s capture and every five years or so, another fragment separates from the moon. You counted 18 fragments this time around, the same as the day before, and the week before that. You yawn, the bark shaking as you do so and close your eyes to rest.

You wake to a soft hand on your bark just as dawn cracks. Your leaves shake in surprise as someone touches you. It takes a moment to reorientate yourself and when you look down from your height your breath hitches. 

“Sister?” Dream calls out, his hand still on your bark. 

Relief floods your system just as a soft breeze runs its fingers through your thin leaves. Your catkin flowers caress his skin when he smiles at you. Just as fast as relief has found you, guilt consumes you again. Morpheus has escaped, it had taken him 106 years and all you have done is stand here and do nothing. Your branches groan again, more flowers blooming in its wake as you weep again, and the individual petals turn a deep blue color. 

Dream grabs one of your leaves gently as it tries to recede from his touch. “Y/N,” He calls out carefully. “I do not blame you for what happened 106 years ago.”

“I am touched by your sacrifice.” He pauses as he picks his next words carefully. “You were the only one who came to my side when I needed it.” 

You still stay quiet but your petals slowly start to return to their yellow colors. Morpheus takes this as a good sign and continues. 

“I love you, dear sister, I wish for you to never doubt that. If only I could give you a hug for all that you had done for me,” He prods and extends both of his hands outwards. 

You purse your non-existent lips in thought, a very tempting offer. Why not try one more time, to be by your brother’s side? Your bark groans again and you concentrate. You try to remember the details of your human body. How did your hair look? How did you hold yourself? Did you have a mole on this side of your face? 

Your leaves and branches start to shake and shrink in on themselves the more you think. You call in your roots and start to wiggle your toes. You think of your fingers and how they had done so much for you: the paintings you made, the pastries you baked. One last tear escapes down your raw skin and when you open your eyes again, you are looking at Dream through new eyes. 

Morpheus comes into your space and wraps his steadying arms around you. You sob into his jacket until it becomes uncomfortable. Your throat is raw when you’re finally reduced to hiccups. Through it all, Dream is holding onto you, gently caressing your hair the way you have liked since you were born. 

“I like this new hair of yours,” He comments as he pulls at a few strands of your hair. It’s longer this time around and kept the same emotional properties your flowers had. It changes from blue to green as your mood shifts. 

“Great, now I can’t hide my emotions anymore.” You mutter weakly to yourself as it changes to red at your slight annoyance. 

Dream chuckles above you and gives you one final tight squeeze. 

“Welcome home, sister,” He whispers. You take a deep breath, letting it fill your lungs thoroughly. 

“Yes, I am home.” 

I did a surprising amount of research for this fic. Apparently, the first woman to attain a driver's license was like in 1900 so that's why Genny was so surprised you could drive. Also, I would not recommend driving in a 1916 vehicle? Looks like it could explode at any minute.

This was a request! And requests are open, just go to my page and hit that button to submit one.

If you do submit a request, it may take me a bit to get to them just because of the nature of it and my classes are starting to get ready for finals. (Your girl is graduating this semester woohoo!)

I will see you in the next fic!

♡ Yours, Layla

[dira333]

Water Lily - Gaara x Reader

for @sgchop - meet uglies and confessions (or something like that) -

for the Milestone Event Week 1 - Words: 2,5k (I couldn't help myself)

Join My Taglist

“Your father asks for your presence. It’s urgent.”

You get up from your pillows right away, water lilies and books momentarily forgotten.

Your father rarely calls on you nowadays. He’s got better stuff to do.

You bow at the entrance of the main room, wait until he calls your name before you look up.

Father does not look worried. Serious, yes, but not worried.

“You’re to leave in an hour,” he addresses you without hesitation. “Your servants will pick out your finest garments.”

“Where to, Father?”

“Sunagakure, the village hidden in the wind.”

“What for, Father?”

“The Kazekage. Marry him, if you can and kill him if you can’t.”

Your throat is thight but you don’t dare swallow under his watchful gaze.

“Very well, Father. What reason will I give him for this sudden proposal?”

“What reason do you need?” He scoffs. “Get ready, you don’t have time to waste on useless conversation.”

You nod, but wait for his order to leave before you turn around. You’ve learned from your past mistakes.

-

You’ll be traveling like a princess.

You’ve had worse, so you don’t complain, not that you’d have anyone to complain to.

But you can’t help but feel like the water lilies.

They look so free, swimming on the surface, like nothing is tying them down.

But you know the truth, the roots that tie them to the ground.

-

“We’ll be staying here for the night,” your guard tells you at sunset, pointing at a cheap hotel by the road. 

Your guard. He’s just one more person watching your every move.

Though you’ve got practice in outwitting them, sneaking out when they’re not looking.

-

It’s almost dark outside now.

The forests are thinning. You’re getting closer to the dessert.

The air is dry and warm and the setting sun paints soft pink across the sky.

“Have you gotten lost?” A voice addresses you softly from the side.

You flinch back, embarrassed to be caught.

The guy’s about your age, red hair neatly combed back. It makes him look older than he is.

“Not at all,” you tell him, correct your stance in case he wants to fight. You’re dressed like a maid and he’s dressed like a traveller but clothes don’t mean anything in a fight.

He keeps looking at you, his pale green eyes almost glowing in the growing dark. His skin is pale against the dark grey of his clothes and there’s a mark on his forehead, the color a deep red, like blood. Love, it says, and you wonder what story there is behind it.

“Care for a walk?” He asks, offering you his arm.

“Where to?”

“The horizon,” he smiles, just enough to see white teeth glinting through pale lips. “Or wherever you want to go.”

“Is there a pond nearby?” You ask him. “Or any body of water, really? I miss it dearly.”

“You come from a land with lots of water?”

You swallow your doubt. “You don’t?”

“Not particularly, no.”

“What’s it like?”

“Dry.”

You choke down a giggle. He looks as serious as ever but you’re quite sure it was meant as a joke.

“Water,” he explains, ”is a treasure. Like the rarest jewel. It’s not to be wasted or spent on something mundane. It gives us life and we know that. It’s worth does not change wether it’s a drop or a pond or the sea.”

You still next to him, transfixed by his speech. 

You wonder if he knows what his words do to you.

“Do you have anything like that in your life?” He asks, offering his arm once more. You take it this time, feel the rough fabric of his sleeves against the bare skin of your arms. The amount of clothing in this warm weather suggests he’s coming from someplace near the dessert. The lack of water tells you the rest.

You keep silent as you walk, as you let him guide you through the darkness that’s growing thicker by the minute. 

Is there something as dear to you as water is to him? Something with equal value?

He must sense that you’ve found an answer because he stops and turns and you can barely make out the oval of his face in the lack of light.

“Yes?”

“Freedom,” you tell him quietly but with conviction. “There is not much of it where I live. Not enough to go by everyone, and not enough to have anything left to spare. It’s measured by the pound, the inch, the breath you’re able to take. I’d give my life for a little bit more freedom.”

“It’s dangerous to give your life for something.”

“Sometimes it’s the only thing worth giving.”

He smiles, you can tell, by the glint of his teeth.

-

“We’ve reached the water,” he tells you next and you know it before he said it by the smell and the sound and the taste in the air.

It’s nothing but a small creak, barely enough to soak into your shoes but you let it anyway, caress your naked toes like a lover would.

“What’s your name?” You ask, though you barely dare to.

“What’s yours?”

And you smile back at him, silent, knowing this will be a secret that you share.

- 

You wake up alone, though not by your own choice.

It’s too risky to bring someone inside, not when going out alone is almost too risky as well.

You use your time alone well, stare at the dirty brown ceiling above you and dream of the night, of dancing soundlessly in the darkness and wishing you could come closer, even closer.

You’ll have to kill the Kazekage.

There’s no way you’ll be able to love a man the way you’ve loved this stranger, this deeply even in this little time spent.

You’ll have to kill the Kazekage because there’s no way you can marry someone and love another, give up the little freedom you have left - to choose who you want to marry and who you want to kill.

- - -

Sunagakura is as tall as your valley runs deep. You stare up at those buildings in awe, at the way they seem to touch the clouds. 

The air is dry and the wind carries sand, rubs your skin raw with it until you bleed.

“The Kazekage will not see you,” you’re told. No amount of money, no amount of bribery will work.

It takes you two days to figure out he’s not even home, that he left his brother in charge.

You dislike the haughty look on his face, the way he seems to look right through the veil you’re wearing, right into the bottom of your soul.

Does he know what you’re planning? 

He should be thankful, you think. With his brother dead he’d be the next in line.

“The least you can do is offer something to pass the time,” you ask the one and only time you get to talk to him. 

The puppeteer, they call him. You wonder if he’s manipulating you too.

He reminds you too much of your father and maybe that’s who you’re seeing instead.

“Very well,” he calls for someone to guide you around. 

The markets, colorful and loud, make your heart beat louder. You wish you could stay a little longer, buy a trinket here and some sweets there, but your guards are not there to protect you but to keep you in line.

The gardens are exquisite and if you’d been allowed to, you’d bent down and sniffed the blossoms, every single one of them, just because you can and just because you want to.

But you’re not allowed and you never will be.

Lastly you visit the old hall and the portraits of every Kazekage that has been.

You stare at their dead eyes with disinterest until you reach the last painting and your breath stills in your throat.

You know those pale eyes, the red hair, the mark on his forehead. Love.

“This is-”

“Our current Kazekage, the fifth. Sabaku no Gaara.”

Freedom, the last of it that you still had, slips from your fingertips like blood from an open wound.

This is the man you’re meant to kill or to marry. And you’ll have to do it under your father’s watchful eyes.

“I’d like to go back to my room now,” you ask, voice tight, limbs shaking. 

You play the part well, maybe because you’re not pretending.

-

It’s not that hard to figure out where he’s went to when you know where to start looking.

It’s a little harder to leave without being followed. 

The knife on your hip is heavy as you run and the little water you have is your biggest treasure.

The dessert is big and your destination is far.

But if you die here, you’d at least been half succesfull.

- - -

“Have you gotten lost?”

Gaara doesn’t look at all surprised to see you.

Outside the rain is pouring. Amegakure is known for it’s predictable weather.

“Not at all.”

His clothes are dry and the room warm from the fire. Your clothes are drenched, your hair clinging to your cool skin in wet clumps.

“Care for a walk?” You offer him your arm.

“Where to?” He asks, closing his book.

“The horizon,” you smile at the memory. “Or wherever you want to go.”

“I don’t think you’ve seen some cacti nearby?” He gets up, dusting off his trousers as he steps closer. “But any flora will do, really. Dry, preferably. I miss it dearly.”

You don’t have a joke to offer but he’s not waiting for it, linking your arms instead. The rain soaks into his dry clothes instantly but he doesn’t seem to mind.

When you get outside he raises his hand and sand collects above your heads like a canopy, keeping you dry. Well, him. You’re already drenched.

You guide him through the dark alleys toward a stream, follow it for half a mile until you reach boulders. 

“In there,” you point at the waterfall that drops down here. “Is a little cave. It’s very private.”

“After you.”

You swallow down your doubt and slip inside. He’s right behind you, still miraculously dry.

It’s dark in the cave. You didn’t think of bringing candles but the darkness reminds you of your first meeting, giving you back a little bravery.

“I don’t suppose you know the Village hidden behind the water lilies?”

“I’ve heard of it,” his voice is calm. You don’t dare reach for him no matter how much you want to.

“How much have you heard of it?”

“I’ve heard,” he stops for a second. “That its head is not happy with how the peace is progressing. That he’s got a tight leash on everyone going in and out and living in his village. That he’s making plans to take over whatever he can get.”

“Have you recognized me?”

“Should I have?” His voice is cool. Even. It feels like rainwater on your heated skin.

“I have left my village with a clear mission. Marry or kill the Kazekage.”

“Interesting.”

“I’ve decided to do neither of them.”

“Why?”

“Freedom.” You swallow. “Say, I want to do one thing and not the other. It would never be my own choice, would it?”

“Not even when asked?”

“I am a water lily,” you answer him truthfully. “You can only free me by cutting off the root.”

The knife is heavy on your hip. You pull it out and offer it to him on the palm of your hands.

“I’d give my life to be free. I’m asking you to take it.”

-

Silence washes over the cave. It seems like even the water is holding its breath. 

Gaara takes the knife from you, his hands warm against your cold skin.

“Undress,” he tells you quietly, his voice barely above a murmur. “I’ll need to send your clothes to your father. He won’t believe it without evidence.”

The air is cold on your damp skin. Your shirt sticks to it, unwilling to let go. It’s clinging more to you than you’ve ever clung to life.

You can’t see Gaara, but you can hear him, just one step away, just out of reach.

“Put the clothes on the floor.” 

You hear him take a step, feel his breath wash over your face, feel the tip of the knife, ice cold, blank steel, against your throat.

“What is more precious than water?” Gaara asks as the blade cuts the skin. Blood runs down your chest and drips onto the floor. 

“Blood?” You ask, hoping he’ll make it quick.

“Wrong. Life.”

- - -

The news of your death travel quick.

There is no time to draw back your guards from Sunagakure in time. Their end is quick and painless, which is less than they deserve for planning a coup on the Kazekage’s life.

Your clothes, bloody and torn, reach your father with a strong worded letter.

If he dares to attempt something similar again, he will have to suffer the consequences.

-

It’s his last day in Amegakure.

The rain has not let up once during his stay and Gaara shields himself with sand on the way back to his hotel.

The light in his room isn’t on but he finds the window without it, the reflection of something silver sitting in the corner of it.

“Welcome back,” he’s greeted when he enters. “Can we help-”

“Dinner in my room,” he orders curtly. “Leave it at the door. I don’t want to be disturbed.”

“Very well.”

He takes the stairs two steps at a time, knocks softly against the door before he enters.

You’re stretched out on the bed, watching the raindrops race each other on the window. The knife you gave him glints back at him from the corner of the window.

“We’re leaving tonight,” he tells you before dipping down to place a kiss on your lips first only to brush his lips on the fading scar across your neck right after.

“Do we have to?” You ask, pulling him down onto the bed. You’re wearing white silk and silver jewelry, look like the morning dew came to live. “I like it here.”

“We’ll come back when you miss the rain.”

“So right after we leave?”

Gaara pinches your cheek and you giggle, curling into his arms like you’ve never belonged anywhere else.

“Tell me again,” you whisper against his skin, “what we’re going to do next."

His hand is warm on your back, rubbing a circle, a drop, a heart, into the skin.

“First we’re going back to Sunagakure.”

“Boo.”

He pinches the skin of your arm and you press a kiss to his skin as an apology.

“Then we’re getting married.”

“And if my father asks-”

“You’ve never met him before in your life.”

You giggle at this. 

“Freedom.” You sigh. “Finally.”

“What’s your new name going to be?” Gaara asks, pushing a lock of your hair behind your hair.

You stare out the window where the sun finally glints through the clouds after days of relentless rain.

“Suiren. Water Lily.”

Taglist: @kaykaystrings @alexxavicry @tsxkishimx @mytanuki-kun

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

If you could give First Ninja a name? What would it be?

People keep asking me about First Ninja's name, but to be quite honest, I've been really struggling with picking one for him, ever since I decided to try and draw stuff for Torn Pages AU and it only got worse, since I started to ship him with Chase.

Choosing a name is really hard. I kinda wish RC9GN creators gave at least trivia at what his possible name could have been, so I had some place to start. And while I saw a couple of names that fandom seemed to give him, the most popular ones were somewhere along the lines of Satoshi, Satoru - but I really couldn't get behind those, you know? Just not vibing at all. Doesn't sound quite right to me personally.

On a related note, someone in rc9gn tag pointed out that 'Norisu' is not really a proper Japanese surename, but variations of it actually exist! I think they actually settled on 'Norisawa', but I preferred 'Norisugi' - which is a pretty rare last name, but not so rare that I couldn't find a Wiki commons media entry on one Kazu Norisugi - a Japanese government official and educator around 1900s (link). It seemed very appropriate that it belonged to a teacher! And the rarity of the surname, could tie into the lore of Norisugi Clan/Name becoming rare after they left Japan and were pretty much eradicated during their journey. And aside from that, linguistically speaking - over the 800 years 'Norisugi' is more likely to morph and change from 'Norisugi Village' to 'Norrisville', which is a thought I enjoyed very much! ;D

When it comes to first name itself, I've been kinda trying to pick something that is a variation for First or Ninja on Japanese (because I am not very imaginative at all, xD), and it became a list of similar sounding names that I can't decide on, if only because etymology behind the kanji are all so very interesting. And all that information comes from japanese names site i found.

So I decided to share my top 11 picks in poll format, just to gauge's others opinions! ;3 (not that it would really influence my choice in the end, but i just really wanted to make a poll xD)

Names Propoganda underneath or aka kanji meanings that make me unable to choose a name more fitting for First. xD

[Ichi-to] - Kanjis for [Ichi] could contain meanings such as One, Alone, Single, First, Primary, or even Run, Escape, Let Go. [To] has a lot of variations, including Tiger, Fierce, Brave, Soar, Fly, Humanity, Benevolence, Kindness, Samurai, Warrior, Gentleman, Cross, Pass Over, Climb, Ascend, Way, Road, Journey.

[Ichi-ya] - [Ichi] as One, Alone, Single, First, Primary. [Ya] can mean an indication of strong emotions or emphasis, but also can mean Dart, Arrow, Night, Evening, Sun, Sunlight, Positive, and also it could mean eight (8) as in kanji 八 - 8 (which was one of the biggest draws for this name to me, because ya know Ichi 1 + Ya 8 = 9th Norisugi sibling lol).

[Ik-kou] - [I(k)] is usually written with the same kanji 一 as [Ichi] sometimes so the meaning is in similar vein of One, Single, Alone. [Kou] has a lot of meanings, including Light, Radiance, Further, Change, Improve, Happiness, Good Fortune, Luck, Voyage, Sail, Navigation, Public, Official, Prince, Achievement, Merit, Success, Direction, Orientation, Grand, Vast and Respect for Parents/Ancestors.

[Is-sei] - [I(s)] is similar to [I(k)] where its written in kanji 一 that means One, Single, Alone. [Sei] can have meanings such as Pure, Clean, Star, Sincerity, Honesty, Astute, Shrewd, to Become, to Accomplish, to Succeed, Power, Force, Expedition, Conquest, Equality, Uniformness or Life, Essense, Spirit, Holy, Sacred, Vow, Pledge.

[Is-shin] - [I(s)] can be written with similar kanjis with meanings One, Single, Alone, but also First, Primary. [Shin] can mean Humanity, Benevolence, Truth, Reality, Heart, Mind, Spirit, Core, Essense, Center, Extend, Stretch, Faith, Belief, Discretion, Caution, to Advance, to Acend.

[I-tsuki] - [I] can mean One, Single, Alone, First Primary, but also can mean That One and in certain Kanji variations can mean Dependent, Rely on, Trust in or Authority, Power, Dignity. [(Ts)uki] - has a lot of meanings including Moon, Month, Precious, Valuable, Honorable, Rare and Hope.

[Kei-ichi] - [Kei] includes meanings such as Blessing, Favor, Grace, Excellent, Beautiful, Good, Enlightenment, Wisdom, Celebration, Joy, Happiness, Open, Begin but also Jade Tablet, Square Jewel (which really made me snort, because of First's square lil face lol). And [Ichi] as One, Alone, Single, First, Primary.

[Kou-k-ichi] - [Kou(k)] can have such meanings as Like, Fond of, Respect for Parents and Ancestors, Good luck, Fortune, Constant, Always, Cultivate, Prosperity, Success, Smooth Sailing, Light, Radiance, Public, Official, Prince, Achievement, Merit, Success, Direction, Orientation, Grand, Vast, Work, Sky, Brilliance, Brightess, Further, Change, Improve, Armour, First (in a sequence of items), Consider, Think, Navigation, Sail, Voyage and many more. The second part of the name is actually traditionally written ine one specific kanji 吉 that has a meaning of Good Luck, Fortune, Auspiciousness.

(and now to obvious Ninja variations lol)

[Nintoku] - seems like a rare name, with only 1 variation that I found so far. First Kanji 仁 - means Humanity, Benevolence, Kindness and Second 徳 means Virtue, Morality, Goodness.

[Nin-ga] - 仁雅 [ninga]- variation is considered a Classical Zen/Bushido name, where first part 仁 [nin] - means Humanity, Benevolence, Kindness and Second 雅 [ga] means Elegance, Refinement and Grace. 2nd variation 忍我 [ninga] means 忍 [nin] - Endure, Bear, Persevere, Conceal, Hide, Sneak and Second 我[ga] means Ego, Self, I.

[Nin'Ya] - is another rare, with only 1 variation of 忍也 [Nin'Ya] consisting of 忍 [nin] - Endure, Bear, Persevere, Conceal, Hide, Sneak and 也 [ya] that means Also, Too, Likewise.

I admit, Nin'Ya is probably the weakest (more jokey lol) choice in this line up, but i just couldn't resist the idea of calling First Ninja, Nin'ya in my head, in that stupid voice like in that goddamn meme "Opennenyoor" xD

(You can find all the names here on Japanese Names, if you want more information btw. )

If you notice, in general I liked the idea of having One, in some form in his name, which not only adresses his eventual modern nickname 'First' but also because it would be like a prediction of his dark future - that he would be left as a solitary survivor of Norisugi Clan. AND a third secret meaning - is that he is the One - the Primary concern of his siblings. Which leads to other meanings I enjoy for various reasons - like Blessing, Hope or Prince to reflect on how he is a cherished youngest sibling (basically an youngest heir) of other 8, born as a blessing during time of turmoil. Journey, Sail, Voyage to refer to his life-long hunt for Sorcerer which would take him over land and sea (and I headcanon that he enjoys sailing). A lot more traits and characteristics like Brave, Kind, Benevolent, Shrewd and etc, to reflect how smart and resilient he had to become in order to survive. A lot of references to Mind, Spirit, Core, Essence and to Ascend, Change, Persevere are about his eventual ascension into Higher Spiritual state in Ninjanomicon. There are also several obvious ones, like Warrior, Samurai or even Work and School somewhere in the long lists.

But yes, this is basically my dilemma. I still have no solid single idea, but so far its all I've got in choice department lol. I would not mind some opinions or ideas or just thoughts about names I guess, if you have any, so feel free to drop them on the post or in asks btw. ✌️

[cyberg4n]

✧ 𝐁𝐄𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒

paring: neteyam x metkayina!fem!reader

warnings: nothing, reader is tsireya’s sister, fluff

a/n: rip blud, love u gng (ಡ‸ಡ)

summary: neteyam finds you making jewelry, and asks to join you.

definitions: lor - beautiful | irayo - thank you

you sit inside your mauri pod, weaving in shells through the band of your bracelet. you had just finished collecting washed up shells and decided to make them useful. you would find yourself hiding away in your mauri pod rather that socializing with others, especially the sully’s. your father had to beg you to come out to greet them the first time they had arrived. although your sister was eager to show them around the village, you were more distracted by the oldest son in the family — neteyam. he’s a warrior, according to tsireya. you were immediately impressed once you had heard that. tsireya had more interest in lo’ak though, the rebellious teenage boy. even though lo’ak was just as equally nice to you, you only had your eye on his brother.

you continue sewing in silence, the light clink of the shells echoed throughout the mauri. as soon as you reach for another shell, you hear somebody clear their throat. you quickly look up, laying your unfinished bracelet in your lap. neteyam stood in front of you, arms crossed. “what are you doing?” he asks. you freeze up, thinking of a response — but you can’t. he stands there before taking a step closer to you. “can i join you?” he says, pointing to the bowl full of shells. you hesitantly nod, scooting over to make room. he smiles, sitting down next to you. he picks up three pieces of twine, choosing a few different selections of iridescent shells in a variety of shapes and colors. you look over at him, watching as he braids the shells in a pattern with the twine.

you’re surprised with his skill. “you’re very good,” you mumble, continuing to work on your bracelet. he looks up, scoffing a bit. “no, not as good as you.” you jerk your head up, confused how he would know that your any better than he is. “how would you know i’m any good?” you ask. he grins, “everything you wear — you make all of it, yes?” he says, looking down at your outfit. you feel yourself getting hot, you wonder if it’s from the warm breeze, or if it’s from your nerves. you nod in response to his question. “then that is how i know you are better than me, everything you wear is lor.” you can’t help but smile, looking down at your lap. “irayo,” you murmured.

you both continued to get back to work, just enjoying each others company in silence. “what do you think of lo’ak?” neteyam asks, “what?” you question, “do you like him?” he says without looking up. you think he’s joking, so you start laughing. he pauses, looking back up at you. when you realize he’s serious, you throw a hand over your mouth. “no, tsireya’s the one that likes him.” he gives you a look of amusement, nodding before he continues braiding the twine. you keep twisting your bracelet around, the thin blanket of tension settling between the two of you. you hesitate before you speak up again. “why do you ask?”

he shrugs, shaking his head. “it just seemed like you liked him,” he responded. you roll your head back, smiling as if he was playing a joke on you. “please, my standards are higher than that. no offense.” neteyam laughs, settling his arm on his knee. “so who do you like?” when you look over at him, he’s looking at you as if he knows what you’re gonna say. he doesn’t take his eyes off of you until you look away. “no one, just this, uhm.” your voice nervously shakes, “just this boy.” he tilts his head, a smirk on his face. “and that’s all you’re going to tell me?” he laughs. “how about you describe him to me and i’ll try to guess who it is in the village.” you turn your head, pursing your lips. “you know every boys name in this village, already?” he nods in enthusiasm. “of course i do.”

you hum, thinking of a way to describe him. “well, he’s…” you trail off, “he’s this strong war- uh,” you stammer. neteyam cocks his head to the side. “he’s tall, just a tinsy bit older than me, he’s incredible at hunting, he has amazing braided hair, and these gorgeous piercing eyes.” you glance over at him - his lips are parted, squinting at you slightly. “you know, it just sounds like you’re describing your dream man.” you laugh, “i am, and he’s real — i assure you.” he nods sarcastically. he goes back to his woven piece, “do i know him?” he persisted. the tone of his voice sounded more threatened. you hum in agreement, smirking at his expression. his lips are drawn into a slight frown, as he bites the inside of his mouth.

neteyam stops asking questions for a while, mainly just focusing on finishing his piece. you slowly lose track of time, noticing that it’s slowly getting darker out. “oh, neteyam you need to go before my parents find you here with me.” you quickly stand up, clearing the ground area out. neteyam stands up with you, grabbing your arm. “hold on,” he says. he slowly pulls you back down to sit next to him. you seat yourself between his legs, feeling your back pushed up against his chest. goosebumps line your skin as his fingers trail through your hair. he lightly pulls out a piece of your hair, taking his woven accessory and braiding it back in. you hold your breathe, nervously tapping the surface of your skin. he ties off the end of your braid, backing up to look at you.

his eyes crinkled with his smile. he extends his hand out to you, and you accept it. he leads you towards the shore of the reef, pointing to the reflective water. you lean over, looking at your reflection. the side of your head glowed with the slight ripple of the ocean. you finally realize what neteyam had been making the whole time. it was a hair piece for you. “you’re beautiful,” neteyam utters. you turn to look at him, eyes wide. he looks at you in awe, not glancing away. “you’re amazing, y/n.” your breath hitches as you step closer to him. you feel the warmth radiating off his body. you part your lips, kissing him softly. he reciprocates, pulling you closer by your waist. you smile into the kiss, giggling as he he pulls away. he stares at you in adoration, a pleased expression on his face.

“i guess i’m your dream guy, huh?”

please do not copy or repost my writings to any other sites !

[ppomumgranatum]

when time runs out, what comes after?

Available on Ao3

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC; Ominis Gaunt x Anne Sallow

tags: one shot, you POV, post-Hogwarts life

word count: 6.9k

Warnings: 🔞 angst as fuck, use of profanities, smut, 18+ explicit sexual content, adult characters, mild fingering, grief sex?

Summary: Because time is like a relentless river that will eventually run its course. Yet, amidst the uncertainty of what lay ahead, you found solace in the knowledge that new beginnings awaited. And you can’t wait to start your new journey with Sebastian.

Notes: I was watching FB and somehow Queenie and Jacob reminded me of Ominis and Anne. Then it led me into thinking about what life could've been for our MC and it got me feeling sappy as fuck like???? Tbh idk what this is? but enjoy it, anyway.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the quaint hamlet of Feldcroft, the autumn breeze enveloped the village in a serene embrace. The sky was painted with hues of orange, pink, and purple as if nature itself was bidding farewell to the day in a grand display of colours.

Over the years after the quaint little village was free from the gruesome terror enacted by goblins and dark wizards, Feldcroft has beautifully regained its liveliness.

In the centre of it all, a lively marketplace had sprung up, illuminated by the soft glow of lanterns and fairy lights. Stallholders peddled their wares– handcrafted jewellery, knitted scarves, jars of homemade preserves– their voices mingling with the laughter and chatter of the crowd.

The place that Sebastian once called home now truly feels like home.

His childhood house is now occupied by Ominis and his sister Anne. His best friend had promised that when they graduated, he would stay with Anne and take care of her with whatever time she had left. That was three years ago, and they’ve been living together ever since. Meanwhile, you and Sebastian found purpose living in the city. Your careers are thriving and you found solace in each other's company, living in a little space you happily share.

After your triumph over Ranrok, you had managed to gradually learn how to wield your ancient magic to its potential. Although you’ve not truly mastered how to completely cure diseases or curses yet, you found a way to somehow ease it. And that’s what you’ve been doing for Anne. Your effort managed to give more years to her life, hoping one day you would eventually master your magic to cure her.

You and Sebastian would regularly visit Feldcroft to do your mending routine on Anne, and this weekend was one of the occasions.

The breeze enveloping the hamlet felt like a gentle caress as it danced through the narrow path you were sharing with Sebastian. You were returning home after a quick grocery trip to the marketplace, accompanied by your boyfriend, who gallantly carried the grocery bag with one arm while the other was wrapped around you.

When you entered the house, Ominis and Anne were seated at the dining table, already eagerly awaited for your arrival. Your brows furrowed at the sudden lively greeting from the couple, “What’s going on?”

“There’s something we’d like to share.” The grin on Anne’s face was suspicious yet delightful.

“Come, have a seat.” Ominis’ tone was rushing the both of you to do as he said.

You and Sebastian quickly exchanged glances, feeling just a tad worried at what the other two had in mind, before finally doing what Ominis had asked.

After Sebastian put aside the grocery bag on the table, Anne quickly grasped his brother’s hand with that grin that has yet to dissipate, “You guys are freaking me out. What’s going on?” Sebastian said.

“Okay, Ominis and I were talking and we’ve been thinking about this for quite some time now..” Anne began slowly, “We have decided that..”

“We want to get married..” Ominis quickly picked up on Anne’s sentence, tone filled with excitement.

“Oh my god!” You exclaimed, equally excited, “That's wonderful news.”

“..Tomorrow.” Anne completed the sentence that was apparently unfinished.

“What?” The tone of Sebastian’s voice dropped, “What do you mean tomorrow?”

“As in the day after today, Sebastian.” She clarified like Sebastian was a Flobberworm.

“Yes, I know what tomorrow means.” He was ticked off by the treatment, “But what– how– why so soon?”

“Why not?” Anne sounded disappointed that Sebastian wasn’t as excited.

“Are you pregnant?” Sebastian bluntly and inconsiderately shot his chance.

“What?!”

“Sebastian!”

“No, I am not!”

Sebastian's face winced at the overlapping aggravation that came out of everyone, “What? It’s a valid question.”

“You don’t think it’s a good idea?” The timbre in Anne’s voice made you feel bad for her.

“Of course, I think it’s a fantastic idea to get married.” He was quick to reassure her, trying not to sound lacking in spirit, "But don't you want more time to prepare for something like this?"

Anne sighed softly, her disappointment evident as she exchanged a glance with Ominis, who seemed equally deflated by Sebastian's response, "It's just.. we've been together for quite some time now." Anne began, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "And we don't want to wait any longer than we have to."

“And it’s not like we got a selection of family to invite.” Ominis added, “You guys are our family.”

Sebastian’s turned to you like he was looking for an extra pillar of certainty. And his expression softened with understanding dawning in his eyes when he was met with your supportive smile.

“I’m sorry,” He tightened his grip on his sister’s hands, “I didn’t mean to dampen your excitement. If this is what you both want, then I’m behind you one hundred percent.”

You nodded in agreement, "We're here for you, whatever you need. And if tomorrow is the day you want to have a wedding, then we'll make sure it's perfect."

Anne's face brightened at your words, gratitude shining in her eyes. "Thank you," she said softly, her voice filled with emotion.

“I can’t believe tomorrow you’re going to be Mr. and Mrs. Gaunt.” You're basically kicking and giggling at the thought of your two best friends finally sharing their names.

“Sallow.” Ominis corrected, “It’s going to be Mr. and Mrs. Sallow.”

Sebastian couldn’t help but smile ear-to-ear, “That sounds even better.”

Everyone seemed to be filled with joy at the decision. But you understood where Sebastian’s suspicion stemmed from. If they were so worried about waiting, why not three years ago? And if there wasn't any particular urgency, why does it have to be tomorrow?

While everyone was exchanging joyous hoots and gazes, your eyes met with Anne’s and you almost didn’t notice that tiny twinge of gloom behind the yawning grin on her face. But it was there, ever so subtle. The sight gave you a small discomfort but you didn’t want to ruin the mood.

So you pushed the thought aside and were ready to get on with the dinner you promised everyone you’d prepare. There’s no room for anything but delight when a celebration awaits everyone tomorrow.

-

Since the wedding practically only had an invitation for two, naturally, you became the maid of honour. Today your service and dedication were solely in the courtesy of Anne Sallow to make sure that you had everything perfectly prepared for her.

As the bride settled into the chair in front of the vanity, you stood behind her, ready to assist with her makeover. With gentle hands, you brushed through the thinned and fragile strands of her hair, feeling the delicate strands beneath your touch. Taking Anne's fragile hair into account, you opted for a gentle half-up, half-down that would be both elegant and comfortable. Soft tendrils framed her face, lending a touch of romance to the look without adding any unnecessary strain.

Once it was arranged to perfection you moved onto her makeup, selecting colours that would enhance her natural beauty without overpowering her delicate features. You couldn't help but notice the prominence of her cheekbones like a stark reminder of the weight loss she had endured. Her complexion, though still beautiful, lacked the healthy flush of vitality it once held.

While you were intently putting your best work into Anne, both of you shared jokes and stories to accompany the duty. She had a way of making even the most mundane moments feel effortless and joyful. Her laughter was infectious, and her ability to find humour in any situation never failed to lift my spirits. Despite everything she had endured, Anne's eyes still sparkled with a glimmer of mischief and resilience.

As you shared laughter and fond memories, Anne suddenly clutched her abdomen, her face contorted in pain. Your heart skipped a beat as you realised the source of her distress—it was the curse. With a surge of panic, you hurried to grab your wand and kneeled beside the chair where she was sitting. Anne attempted to contain the pain at first, her efforts were evident in the furrow of her brow and the tight grip of her hands on her abdomen. But soon, the intensity became too much to bear, and despite her best efforts, a soft yet pained groan escaped her lips.

You had one hand holding hers, allowing her to clutch into yours while your other hand began to work your wand, channelling your ancient magic to help her ease the pain. Your heart clenched at the sound of her agony and your hands trembled with fear.

“Hang in there, Anne..” Your voice provided soothing comfort. You could tell the magic was slowly doing its work as the grip on your hand loosened and Anne regained control of her breathing, “I’m here..”

You stayed by her side, hand never leaving hers like a silent comfort as the magic continued to work its healing touch. After Anne's strength gradually returned, she managed to open her eyes and gave you a knowing smile, “I’m alright now.. Thank you.”

You put down your wand so both of your hands can grasp into hers. Worry still settled over you. It was only yesterday since you did your mending on Anne. The effect would usually last her a month– or two even when she was doing so well. But for it to not even last twenty-four hours meant the curse was only getting stronger, and your magic was becoming futile.

“How long?” You began to ask. Your voice was soft but still laced with anguish.

Anne let out a heavy sigh before answering, “Almost six months now..” Her breathing was still a little bit unsteady, "I’ve noticed the effects have been getting shorter and shorter.”

“Oh, Anne.. why didn’t you tell me.” Your heart ached even more knowing she must have endured it on her own.

“I didn’t know how to.” She admitted.

As a deep sense of despair washed over you, you couldn't help but grasp the gravity of the circumstances. Meeting her gaze, you glimpsed a reflection of your own emotions mirrored in her eyes. While kneeling beside her, you took a moment to observe the woman before you, her faint smile betraying the anguish she must have been enduring.

How awful it must’ve been to pretend everything was fine while she was crumbling inside.

“Does Ominis know?”

She nodded, “Not long ago.” Anne didn’t have to say it, but now you understand the underlying reason for the impulse on the wedding, "I tried to hide it for a while, but that man knows me too well not to find out something was wrong."

"How are you feeling?" You gently asked like a fragile little petal that she was. There were layers of concern in your voice.

She hesitated for a moment like she was contemplating whether to share the truth, "Not so good." disappointment coloured both her expression and tone, “I knew it couldn’t cure me. But I truly thought it would still last me forever, you know.”

“I know..” Your thumb caressing the back of her hand, "I thought so, too."

She let out a heavy sigh, "Well, it was good while it lasted."

“Have you told Sebastian?"

"Not yet. Not today," she said, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I just want to get married to the man that I love and pretend, at least for this day, that I am not withering."

You felt a surge of empathy for Anne. Despite her hardships, there was a quiet determination in her voice. She just wished to find joy amidst the challenges she faced.

"You don't have to pretend with us."

"I know that." She smiled softly, "But it makes me feel a little bit better. Just for today."

She lifted her trembling hand to gently stroke your hair. And when her eyes met yours, the sorrow that reigned over her eyes pierced through you, shattering your heart into a million pieces.

"You have no idea how grateful I am that Sebastian's questionable behaviour ended up being the thing that brought you two together.” You chuckled at her remarks, and the twitch in your eyes finally allowed the tears that had been so desperate to fall to cascade down your cheeks, "And I'm grateful to have found a sister in you."

At that moment, neither of you could hold back the tears any longer. The floodgates of emotion burst open, releasing a torrent of tears that had been held back. Amidst the overwhelming grief, there was also a profound sense of gratitude for the strength you had found in the brief but powerful bond you shared with her.

"You can fight this." You choked out, "Please.. Just a little bit more, Anne. I'm getting better with my magic. I think I'm almost there."

"No.." She shook her head, "I don't think I can wait anymore."

You nestled your head on her lap, finding solace in her gentle touch as she continued to stroke your hair. It felt as though she was the one offering comfort.

“Promise me.” She said softly, “That you’ll watch over them when I’m not around. Merlin knows what those boys will do without supervision.”

And once more, amidst the tears and sobs, a faint chuckle escaped from both of you. It was a moment of bittersweet release.

And when you lifted your head, you met Anne's gaze with a solemn nod, though your heart felt heavy with the weight of her request. "I promise," You vowed, "I won't go anywhere. But you have to know, Anne.. I could never replace you."

“You already have.” She reached out to wipe the tears that streamed down your cheeks, “When I'm gone, they’ll have no one but you in this world. You are their family– my family. You have to understand that you mean the world to all of us.”

You took a heavy, deep breath, trying to stifle the uncontrollable sobs threatening to consume you. But it was no use– each inhale and exhale only trembled more with emotion. The thought of Sebastian and Ominis losing Anne, the person they loved, filled you with crushing despair. You couldn't bear the idea of witnessing their pain, knowing that you held the power within you to help her, if only you knew how.

Everything felt agonisingly close yet impossibly out of reach, leaving you feeling utterly helpless in the face of Anne's impending fate.

You don't want to lose her.

"I wish we had more time."

“You gave us more time when we thought there was none left. You gave me a chance to live, to love Ominis, and Sebastian..." Her voice trembled from the emotion, "You have no idea how much joy you've brought back into his life. And you've given me the gift of witnessing that happiness.” She managed to put up a smile and you wished she didn’t. Pretending was no longer necessary, and you wanted her to feel free to express her true emotions, “You have given me a lifetime. And for that, I owe you everything.”

You reached out and pulled her into a tight hug, holding her close while trying to imprint every moment of this precious connection into your memory. This could be one of the few last hugs you'd be able to share with her, and you wanted to cherish every second of it.

"Alright, that's enough tears for now," she said gently, pulling away and wiping your tears. "You've got to save it for when I'm actually dead."

“Anne!” You protested at the inappropriate joke. Although you’ve got to admit there was a mix of amusement inside of you at her attempt to lighten the mood.

“I’m sorry.” A faint smile playing on her lips.

The both of you shared a final chuckle before you set to work on redoing Anne's makeup, realising that almost everything was ruined from the intense sobbing. But you didn't mind– in fact, you welcomed the opportunity to spend more time with her, cherishing every moment you had left together.

After you finished, you picked up your wand and cast a spell on Anne's clothing. In an instant, she was adorned in a stunning white dress, radiating an ethereal beauty that took your breath away.

You took a moment to cast the same spell on your own clothes, transforming them into attire more suitable for the event. You left Anne to rest inside and headed outside to begin setting up for the ceremony this evening.

Working your wand with precision, you crafted a beautiful yet intimate setting in the confines of their backyard. Despite the limited space, you conjured an enchanting atmosphere, transforming the modest surroundings into a magical haven fit for a wedding. The flowers bloomed in colourful bursts, intertwining with lush greenery to create a picturesque backdrop for the ceremony.

Despite the simplicity of the setup, every detail was carefully curated to evoke a sense of intimacy and romance, ensuring that Anne's special day would be nothing short of unforgettable.

While you were immersed in the enchanting setup, you were surprised by the sudden embrace that came behind you, “Hello, beautiful.” Unable to resist the exposed skin from your updo hair, he planted tender kisses along your neck. Sebastian is always such a tease.

With a soft smile, you leaned into his embrace, “I’m doing something here.” you teased, but still couldn't help but enjoy the affectionate gesture.

Sebastian chuckled then nuzzled his head into your neck. His warm breath sent shivers up and down your spine, "Anything I can help with?" he whispered in your ear. You could feel his strong arms wrapped around you, holding you close.

Just as you finished with your setup, you leaned back against his strong frame, feeling completely secure in his arms. "You can be here with me, holding me."

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you, taking in the intimate moment and the romantic decor. The scene before you stirred thoughts of your own future wedding, prompting a gentle curiosity about when that moment might come.

"How's Anne doing?" Sebastian's voice broke the silence, drawing your attention.

You turned to face him, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you loop your arm around his neck, drawing him closer. "Very happy," You replied softly, "She's ready."

“Ominis is, too.” There was a mix of joy and relief in his face,“I’m so glad they finally get to have their happy ending.”

His words hit you hard. Sebastian remained unaware of the true extent of Anne’s condition. Because the happy ending he thought she’s having isn’t as perfect as it seemed.

“Are you alright?” He noticed the change in your expression.

You nodded, masking the trouble brewing inside.

“Are you sure?” He persisted. His voice sounded more concerned this time.

You wanted to confide in him, but it didn't feel right. Anne deserved to share the news with her brother herself. "I just think it's a beautiful day for a wedding," you lied.

Sebastian smiled, leaning in to give you a sweet kiss on your lips, his affectionate gesture momentarily distracting you from the weight of the secret you carried.

-

As the ceremony finally commenced, you and Sebastian stood side by side, bathed in the glow of the evening sun. The gentle breeze carried the soft rustle of leaves and the sweet scent of wildflowers, adding to the serene ambience of the outdoor setting. In the distance, the rolling hills provided a breathtaking backdrop for the intimate gathering.

Anne, radiant in her flowing white dress, walked down the aisle with grace, her eyes sparkling with love and anticipation. Ominis stood at the altar, his expression a mixture of nerves and excitement as he awaited his bride.

The sound of their vows filled the air, heartfelt and sincere, weaving a tapestry of promises and dreams for the future.

It was time for them to exchange rings. And finally, as they shared their first kiss as husband and wife, the world seemed to stand still, capturing the beauty and magic of this momentous occasion. You and Sebastian watched with pride and happiness, your hearts overflowing with love for the newlyweds.

But the joyous atmosphere shattered in an instant as Anne fell to the ground, her agonising scream piercing the air. Shock and fear gripped everyone present as they rushed to her side. The curse had struck once again.

The pain seemed to be worse than before because Anne's consciousness began to fade. Ominis lifted and carried her inside while his face etched with fear and worry. You and Sebastian followed closely as Ominis gently laid his bride on the bed.

You quickly tended to her side and began using your magic to ease her pain once again while Ominis sat beside you, holding Anne’s hand tightly in his own.

Sebastian stood by, watching his sister fighting her pain, feeling utterly helpless. Her screams tore at his heart, shredding it into pieces.

He finally began to realise the true situation of Anne’s condition.

Unable to bear the sight any longer, he stormed out of the house, his breath ragged from the onslaught of negative emotions. He wandered aimlessly, searching for a space where he could calm himself down and gather his thoughts.

-

After tending to Anne's needs and ensuring she had something to eat to regain her strength, you realised that Sebastian had been conspicuously absent. Concerned, you stepped outside and immediately knew where to find him. Following the familiar path atop the hill that overlooked the hamlet, you remembered how Sebastian always loved this spot for its breathtaking view of the village below.

Upon reaching the hilltop, you were greeted by the sight of your lover, standing at the edge and gazing out over the village. The fading light of the setting sun casted a warm glow over the landscape.

Sebastian's shoulders were tense, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as he stared into the distance. You approached him quietly, the soft crunch of gravel beneath your shoes barely audible over the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze.

You stood just a little bit behind him, giving him the space he needed to collect his thoughts. Despite the distance, you could feel the stress emanating from him.

"You knew, didn't you?" He finally said, breaking the silence. You expected something sharp and judgemental coming out of him, but there was none of it. His stare remained fixed in the distance.

You nodded even though he couldn't see it, "Just today."

"Did she tell you how long ago?"

You hesitated for a moment, "Six months."

Sebastian scoffed and his expression hardened, his eyes narrowing with a hint of anger. "Six fucking months," he muttered, "Why didn't she tell us sooner?"

You felt a pang of guilt at his tone, knowing that Anne's decision to keep her condition a secret had hurt him deeply, "I think she was trying to protect us."

He shook his head and his jaw clenched tightly. "Protect us?" he repeated, voice rising with emotion. "From what exactly? From the tremendous amount of pain we’re already living with every single day? We're her family, for Merlin’s sake, we should have been there for her."

You knew that Anne's silence had shaken him to the core, and the road ahead would be filled with challenges as they grappled with the consequences of her decision.

"I should’ve been there for her." The quiver of regret was evident this time, “How many times have we gone to visit her in the past six months? And not once did she mention anything. She pretended like she was alright.”

“That’s exactly why, Sebastian.” You replied gently, "She didn’t want to keep pretending. She just wanted to cherish the time she had left without constantly dwelling on her illness. By allowing her to live her life the way she wants to, we were already there for her."

“But she’s my sister.” His voice cracked with emotions.

“I know..” You murmured, feeling the weight of his pain.

Then, a single tear escaped from the corner of his eyes that was clearly betraying the emotions he struggled to contain. He instinctively turned his head, his hand moving swiftly to brush away the tear.

You wanted to give him space to be in his own vulnerability, so you stood in place.

“To think of the fact that she decided to endure it on her own..” There was so much guilt in his voice. Then he fell quiet for a moment before continuing, “It's funny, isn't it? How time seems to slip through our fingers, no matter how tightly we try to hold on."

You listened in silence, feeling the weight of his words settle over you like a heavy blanket. The realisation that time was finite– that eventually, it would run out.

"We spend our days chasing after hope, trying to cure Anne," Sebastian continued, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "But the truth is, time waits for no one. Even for those who possess magic, it marches on, indifferent to our hopes and desires."

It was the first time you’d seen Sebastian being this vulnerable. It only showed how much love he carried for his sister.

"And when it's gone," Sebastian murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, "all we're left with are the memories of what could have been– what I could’ve done for Anne.” His tone carried a sense of despair and it unsettled you deeply. It felt as though the fierce determination of a man who would move mountains to save his sister had been extinguished.

"I just wish I had done more for her," He admitted.

“Hey,” Closing the distance, you gently lifted his chin, urging him to meet your gaze with compassion while his eyes were shimmering with tears, "You've been there for her in more ways than you realise. And she knows that.” His tears flowed more freely at your comforting words. Without hesitation, you cupped his cheeks and brushed away the tears, “She’s made her choice, Sebastian. The most important thing now is to cherish the time we have left with her and make every moment count. Because you can’t go back in time, it only runs out."

As harsh as reality was, Sebastian knew you were telling him what he needed to hear. Because if you don’t make the most of your time, the only thing that will remain is regret.

“I can’t promise you that it will be easy," you continued. "But I can promise you that I'll be here every step of the way."

He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch as if seeking refuge in your warmth. Taking your hand, he pressed a tender kiss to your palm before meeting your gaze, "I don't know what I'd do without you." He whispered,

"You won't have to find out." You replied with a reassuring smile.

Sebastian's eyes held yours, filled with gratitude and a hint of vulnerability. In that shared moment, you both understood the depth of your connection and the support you offered each other.

Then he pulled you into a tight embrace and you yielded to his warmth, feeling the comforting strength of his arms around you. Resting your head against his chest, you listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a reassuring cadence amidst the uncertainty that surrounded you.

He fell quiet for a moment. Stroking your hair with one hand while the other rubs your back with comfort.

“Thank you.” He finally said.

“What for?”

“Everything.” He whispered as he reflected on how different things could have been for Anne, and how her current happiness was beyond anything he had dared to hope for. “If you asked me five years ago what life would be like for Anne today, I’d say she’d be long gone and buried deep in the ground. I never thought I’d see her get married. This is all happening because of you.”

“You know I would do anything for Anne.” You replied softly.

He pulled away to meet your gaze, “And I would do anything for you.”

There was something special about the way he looked at you, the way his dark eyes were captivated by yours. The warmth of his embrace and the tenderness in his touch made you feel cherished in that moment.

It felt like the world had faded away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of intimacy. Everything else ceased to exist as you were enveloped by his presence, captivated by the depth of his gaze and the warmth of his embrace.

Sebastian drew nearer, his eyes locking onto yours with intensity. His hand trailed through your hair, tenderly caressing your cheek as he leaned in closer. The sensation of his chest against yours sent your heart into a flurry of anticipation.

It was kind of funny to you, how this man could still make your heart flutter in the most exciting ways ever even after sharing hundreds of kisses.

Right before his lips touched yours, he paused, looking at you intently. The intimacy grew with each passing second as he leaned closer until finally connecting his lips to yours.

Sebastian's touch was sensual, yet tender. There was a delicate balance of passion and tenderness in his kiss. His lips felt warm and inviting, like the gentle warmth of a summer in the middle of the cold autumn breeze.

The kiss deepened and the intensity rose with every passing second. Lost in the kiss, you could feel all the worries and stresses of life wash away– like maybe Anne wasn’t dying, or Ominis wasn’t about to face his worst heartbreak, and Sebastian wasn’t going to lose his sister, and all that was left was the warmth of his touch.

As the weight of everything going on amplified the intensity of your emotions, it also seemed to intensify your desire, heightening every sensation, every touch, every whisper of longing. It was as if the urgency of the moment fueled the fire burning between you and Sebastian.

You didn’t want this to end. You wished you could live in whatever intoxicating illusion this feeling was.

The kiss went on and Sebastian tightened his grip, pulling you closer to him. The sensation of his lips and the heat of his body pressed up against you had your mind spinning. Every touch of his lips on yours was more arousing than the last.

The heat was becoming too intense, and you wanted more.

Sebastian continued to explore your body with his hands, grazing his fingers along your curves. He moved his hands upwards towards your chest and your breath hitched at his touch.

Despite the lust that was slowly eating away your rational thinking, deep inside, in the back of your mind, you had a sudden realisation. Sebastian’s griefing and this felt like an unhealthy outlet. The guilt weighed on your mind but the brunette began trying to unzip your dress.

“Sebastian..” You pulled away and whispered breathlessly against his lips, “You’re grieving.”

He shook his head, “I want you..” He put trails of kisses along your jaw and neck, making everything even more irresistible.

You bit your lip. “Not like this.”

“Please..” He whispered in your ear and you couldn’t hold the soft moan that escaped your lips.

The sensation of Sebastian's kisses sent shivers down your spine, his breath hot on your skin. You tried your best to resist him, but it was becoming too much to bear. And when his hand slid under your dress and touched your heat, temptation took over you and your body yielded under his touch.

“Fuck.. Sebastian.”

"I know you want me, too," He whispered. Your body betrayed your words as you grew wetter with desire. The sensation of his touch on your clit, using your own fluids as a lubricant, sent waves of pleasure through you. At that moment, you no longer wanted him to stop.

Your body responded instinctively to Sebastian's touch. Your back arched into his hand as pleasure washed over you and your hips rolled around to the movement of his finger. Giving in to the pleasure, your eyelids fluttered shut and your head fell backwards.

As Sebastian kissed your collarbone, your dress slipped off your shoulder, exposing more of your skin and eventually revealing your breasts.

Sebastian groaned softly at the sight before him, unable to resist the temptation of your hardened nipple. With eager anticipation, he lowered his lips to take it into his mouth, his fingers continuing their skilful movements. The combination of his touch and his lips against your skin sent your senses reeling.

Your moans were like music to his ears. With each gasp and whimper that escaped your lips, his craving only intensified, driving him to seek out more ways to please you, “Oh darling, I can’t take it anymore.”

He pulled away, allowing your dress to fall to your feet with a soft rustle of fabric. With gentle yet firm hands, he lifted you, then carefully guided you to lie down on the ground beneath you.

As you lay there, the cool earth beneath you provided a stark contrast to the heat of your desire. You watched Sebastian undress himself, his muscles rippling beneath his skin with every movement. With each article of clothing he shed, your anticipation grew, knowing that soon you would be able to feel his warmth inside of you.

When his thick, hard cock came into view, your hand instinctively reached out to touch it, but Sebastian was quick to grab your wrist and pin it above your head. Leaning in close, his hot breath washed over your skin. While his cock, wet with precum, brushed against your stomach. "So eager now, aren’t we?" he whispered huskily.

“Just fuck me already,” you begged so desperately wanting to feel him inside of you.

Sebastian's lips curled into a wicked smile at your boldness. You didn’t have to tell him twice.

With a low growl, he released your wrist and positioned himself between your thighs and without a word, he entered you slowly, savouring every inch of the delicious friction between your bodies. His hand slipped under your thigh and pushed your knee so he could gain better access into your depths.

And just as he expected, the position allowed his length to slide inside you so gracefully deep. As he settled fully inside you, a groan of pleasure escaped his lips.

He began to move and each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, you surrendered completely to the ecstasy of the moment, lost in the rhythm of Sebastian pumping you, “Ah.. fuck– yes..”

Your moans echoed through the silent night, mingling with the rustling leaves and whistling wind. The sounds of nature seemed to fade into the background and were replaced by the sound of your lusts.

His movement was slow but he hit you deep and right exactly where you wanted him to be. You clenched hard around his cock and it sent him frantic, “You feel.. so damn good..”

Your hand gripped his toned arms, your back arched, and your head leaned back in ecstasy. Without missing a beat of his thrusts, Sebastian seized the opportunity to lavish on your bare skin, trailing kisses along your neck and collarbone.

Then, he took the moment to give your bouncing breasts some attention, taking one in his mouth and sucking it gently. And by Merlin’s beard, this man knew how to multitask.

You spread your legs wide and angled your hips, meeting each of Sebastian's deep thrusts with equal fervour. When his rhythm intensified, the nails of your hand dug into his arm and it elicited a sharp intake of breath that came out of him.

With each thrust, you felt a different kind of connection with Sebastian, a deeper sense of intimacy. It was as if every movement, every caress, carried the weight of the world and the depth of your emotions. This felt more than just physical pleasure– it felt like a shared understanding of the fleeting nature of time and the preciousness of the moments you shared together.

Sebastian brushed aside the strands of hair that obscured your face, his gaze penetrating, filled with a tumult of emotions—lust, grief, love, all swirling together. At that moment, when his eyes locked with yours, you felt the depth of his presence. The way he looked at you, the way he felt inside of you, it was overwhelming– it was so, so good it made you want to cry.

Your legs wrapped around his hips, urging him to delve deeper. Sebastian's deep, husky voice filled the air with a moan, your name escaping his lips in a desperate plea for more, “I.. I love you..” He declared breathlessly, his words laden with raw emotion, “I love you.. so much..”

“I love you too..” You cupped his cheek, pressing your foreheads together, “I-im so.. so close..”

He tightened his embrace around you, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he chased his own climax. With a fervent kiss, he whispered against your lips, "Come with me, darling.”

The intensity built and you felt the tension coil within you, ready to unravel at any moment. And then, as if on cue, you felt it—the wave of pleasure crashing over you. Your body tensed, every nerve ending alive with sensation as cries of ecstasy escaped your lips, filling the air with the sweet sound of your orgasm, “oh fuck– Sebastian!”

With a guttural groan, he cried out your name and reached his peak, his body shuddering with release as he spilled inside of you.

Sebastian collapsed against you, his chest heaving in an attempt to catch his breath. You wrapped your arms around him, basking in the afterglow of your moment.

He kissed the line of your shoulders, then your cheek, and eventually your lips.

As he pulled back slightly, he took a moment to stare at your face, his eyes filled with all of the emotions that were left, like he was trying to memorise every detail, every curve, every expression– he never wanted to forget this moment.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said with a smile that reminded you of all the reasons you fell for him.

“Oh, shut up.” You kissed him to mask the way your cheeks flushed red.

When you both pulled away from the kiss, you found yourselves lingering in the intimacy of the moment. Your noses brushed together softly, eliciting a gentle smile from both of you. Sebastian's fingers traced the contours of your jaw with delicate precision, his touch telling you how much he loves you.

You reciprocated by running your fingers through his hair, feeling the silky strands intertwine with your touch. The closeness between you felt electric.

“Marry me.” He suddenly said and your loving gaze swapped into confusion in an instant.

“What?”

“Marry me.” He repeated, “Today, tomorrow, next week– I don’t care.”

Sebastian's sudden proposal left you speechless as his words sank in slowly. His eyes bore into yours and you searched it for any hint of uncertainty. You know he’s grieving, and this could be just that. “Sebastian..”

“This is not grief talking or merely an after-sex impulse.” He assured you as if he could read your mind, “This is something that I’ve been thinking about for some time. With everything that’s been going on with Anne, don’t you think it’s telling us something?”

He was begging for your consideration, wanting you to believe that he meant every word.

“Cherish every moment we have left, you said.” He stroked your hair with a touch so gentle it felt so tender and reassuring, “You gave me a life to live. And I want to spend the rest of my time loving you.”

You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts amidst the chaotic feelings swirling inside you. Sebastian's proposal was unexpected, but you know it felt right. There was something about his sincerity that was hard to deny.

"Do you really mean it?" You whispered.

"Yes." He brushed a loose strand of hair from your face, his hand lingering by your cheek. "I mean it with all my heart. I want to marry you."

A smile painted across your face, your lips curling into a wide grin. Without any inhibitions, you pulled him into a kiss, expressing your love and acceptance through the tender gesture. The passion ignited once again.

You lost yourself in the intimacy of the moment, wrapped in Sebastian's firm grasp, letting your mind and body surrender to the joy.

Sebastian quickly pulled away, eyes flickered with anticipation when he realised you hadn’t really given your answer, “Wait, is that a yes?”

A playful glint danced in your eyes as you nodded, a grin spreading across your face. “Of course, it’s a yes.”

Sebastian's face lit up with a radiant smile, relief washing over him as leaned in to resume the kiss.

Because time is like a relentless river that will eventually run its course. Yet, amidst the uncertainty of what lay ahead, you found solace in the knowledge that new beginnings awaited. And you can’t wait to start your new journey with Sebastian.

[kennedyalike]

come n’ get it now

re4 leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

summary: you take care of leon on a mission where you got accidentally caught up

tags: smut, fingering, p in v sex

word count: 1,9k~

settling in on the plush crimson couch that was in the middle of the darkly lit room, what was this place anyways? quite cozy to be honest, even though it was still in the same castle that you had been held at gunpoint, kidnapped as a way to blackmail leon. he didn’t fall for it, he was strong and remained calm. or so you thought. his mind was a mess, thoughts of loosing you flooded his mind every second, he was panicking but he had to pull through, for you. his little princess.

leon loved you more than anything, really. he would do anything for you, he would die for you and he was prepared to die for you in this mission. it had started out as a simple extract, going to a rural village in spain to research a cult called los illuminados. only it wasn’t going so well. some crazy fucker named ramón had come up with an idea to kidnap leon’s girlfriend, you, to blackmail him and make him fall for a trap to get rid of him.

but he wasn’t so dumb, he saved you and it was easy really. until he realised ramòn, saddler and the rest of the los illuminados cult weren’t going to let you off so easily when they realised you had stolen information and a piece of amber with you. you weren’t an agent but you learned a thing or two from leon. atleast you complicating his mission, you could be of little use.

you tried to aid him in battle, by not being in his way and staying away from the enemies. you weren’t a scaredy cat, you fended off many enemies with the knife he had given you, always giving him a heads up and holding stuff open for him. you didn’t want him to worry about you so you did your best for him.

the relationship was equal, you would do anything for him and he would do anything for you. now you were just babbling incoherent ’sorry’s as you were rummaging through your belongings. ”they’re dumb, they left me with all my stuff untouched, can you belive that?” you said with a slight chuckle, trying to lighten up the mood when you sit next to leon on the couch, settling your purse on your lap, toying with the zipper of it.

”what’s in there? besides the amber, i mean. you should give it to me, that way they don’t have anything to hold over against you. i need to get you out of here as quickly as possible.” leon babbled, mostly to himself as his dark eyes and stern look avoided you, feeling dissapointed in himself when he couldn’t protect you.

”leon…i love you, you know that?” you cooed as you pushed his shoulders back and pulled yourself onto his lap, legs settling at the sides of his as he leaned back, head hitting the soft couch as his ash blonde locks spread around the fabric, ruffling at the back of his head. he nodded silenty as his eyes still avoided your gaze. his hands darted around the hem of your dress, looking around your body, your jacket slightly slumped over your shoulder. he sees the small bruises all over your skin and the dirt that was starting to gather on your clothes.

he sighed really deeply as his hands settled on your thighs and yours settled on his shoulders. he was tense, stressed and pressured. his wide shoulders felt so hard, maybe because of muscle but you could feel the tension he was holding in. ”leon.” you call out once more, trying to pull him out of the trance as your hands shuffle in your bag, pulling out a pack of wet wipes. you grab his gun-calloused hand from your lap and start cleaning the grime and dirt off of his palm.

he was still quiet, leon was accepting your care as you kept cleaning his hands, moving to his forearms, picking up a new wet wipe as you cleaned the dirt off of his tense biceps and forearms. you felt bad for him and wanted to be of use. you felt worthless and seeing him in this stage was hard. you loved him so dearly and wanted to be good for him, so why did you have to get caught? now you’re just being a burden to him.

you felt his muscles twitch under your fingers as you carefully wiped his forearm clean, lifting up his other arm, just as tense as the other. he was breathing quietly as you continued. he felt loved, your soft fingers working to take care of him as he watched you on his lap. he watched your focused face, so cute. his. your hand caressed his face and you wiped the dirt off of it, careful around a few cuts that made your brows furrow from worry. you propped your body slightly closer to him. he looked you in the eyes and admired your focused face, slightly grimacing when the wet wipe hit his cut.

”sorry but, i have to clean it, leon.” you emphasized as you finished cleaning his face, fixing his hair cutely as you try to smile at him, a desperate attempt at making your partner feel better. ”i know, baby. i love you so much.” this time, your smile was real, you pulled your body close to him, chests connecting. your plush chest hit his hard and muscly chest and he accepted you, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer too.

your hands wrap around his shoulders, starting to slightly massage them, wanting to ease him and only be good to him. you would do anything, anything for him to feel better. you watch his eyes close, his eyelashes fluttering as he sighs, his lips parting slightly when you massage his shoulders and biceps. your hands work rounds into massaging him, wanting to ease his muscles and all the pent up anger he felt inside of him. he was quiet, except for the small whimpers and sighs leaving his mouth every now and then when you hit a jammed up muscle.

you couldn’t help yourself but feel a little turned on from his face, brows furrowing as soft moans escape his esophagus. you begin to grind down on his lap a little, hoping he doesn’t notice your movement. under the dress, you wore nothing but panties and you had a small cardigan with you. the fabric of your panties already felt wet as you slightly grinded yourself into him. leon’s tight dark blue compression shirt showing his defined body was too much for you to handle.

the knife holder next to his left shoulder and the straps around his trousers that were holding his weapons and his belongings were still on, you were eyeing down his whole being. you would do anything for him to feel good and relaxed and you would die for him to be inside you right now. but you were so sure he thought it was inappropriate hence the situation and the fact that you guys were on some random couch, couped up in the very same castle where the los illuminados members were.

his palms felt sweaty on your hips and you started to feel his hands forming a fist, scrunching the fabric of your dress up, revealing more of your plush thighs every second. his eyes were open and he was looking at you. it was like a silent agreement between you two.

you leaned in and kissed him, his soft lips were too inviting and your hands wrapped around his neck, deepening the kiss. his hands have brought up the fabric of your dress completely. leon’s hands felt cold on your skin as he groped your ass under your dress. you moan slightly into the kiss and he responds with a slight groan as he feels you grind into him even more.

you feel his growing erection through his dusty trousers and you’re sure your panties have already left a wet spot on them. your lips are still connected and your bodies move in sync. the kiss was soft and lustful. you smelled his cologne still, not completely blocked out by the smell of battle. your tongue teases his as you continue kissing passionetly.

his other hand moves to the front of your crotch, slithering over your clothed cunt. you break the kiss and instead your lips connect with his neck, peppering small kisses on his soft skin as his fingers slip under your panties and start rubbing between your folds. “so wet, baby.” you moan at the contact and your breath on his neck sends vibrations down his whole body. ”need you, leon.” you whine as you desperately grind on his fingers for some more friction.

his fingers gather your slick and slowly rub circles on your clit before he pushes two needy fingers inside you. his fingers feel stretching after a long time and you were already a moaning mess, hips grinding down to meet his thrusts as his fingers fuck you. the tip of his fingers curve slightly, making you squeeze your eyes shut from the pleasure.

he can’t handle it anymore and pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you whining at the loss of contact before you realize he’s pulling his trousers down. he pulls his trousers down, lifting his hips slightly to slip them past his knees along with his boxers. his almost painfully erect cock springs free and slaps against his clothed abdomen. you settle your hips back on top of him.

your arms are still wrapped around his neck and you nuzzle leon’s chest again, letting him take control and use you, just how you wanted it. he knows you’ll let him, so he grabs his cock and starts lining himself up at your entrance. the stretch of his tip inside you makes you whimper, but you set your hips down, his cock now fully sheathed in you.

both of you sigh and moan at the contact, his hips already bucking up into you, desperate thrusts as he moans into your ear. leon was always really vocal and you loved it. you meet his thrusts and let him rut his cock into you at whatever pace he likes. ”oh fuck, baby. you feel amazing, shit.” he curses to himself, praising you while bucking his hips up.

whimpers leave your mouth as he pounds into you, you feel his tip so deep inside you, that you want to stay like this forever and ever. wanting to ease his stress as his veiny cock ruts into you. you feel every inch of him and his hands grab your hips tighter by the second. he’s helping you meet his thrusts by bringing your hips down. lustful moans erupt from both of you in union as you get closer to your orgasms.

leon’s thumb goes to rub circles on your clit again as his pace fastens up, sending you over the edge as you mumble into his ear. ”m’ gonna cum, leon!” he continues rubbing on your clit, helping you to let go ”go on, gonna cum in you so hard.” leon’s raspy voice echoes in your head as you let go, feeling yourself fall off the edge of pleasure, cumming hard on his cock,

your cunt clenches around him as he thrusts into you sloppily a few times before he pushes himself as deep into you as he can, holding your hips down on his. the grip he has on the flesh of your hips almost hurts as he cums inside you. groans and sighs leave your’s and leon’s mouths in continuance as you slowly peck kisses on his cheek.

you would do anything for him to feel better<3

[cosmic-ghost-hermit]

Hey everyone. I am back for a little bit to let yall know im working on making a divination discord server. I have some other things i need to set up before i open it up to the public but im very excited to see yall there! Remember to take what resonates and leave the rest behind but always be open to new experiences. 🩵

-ghost

PILE 1

Crystal: Amethyst

Astrology: ♈️♌️���️♒️

Vibes: 💛📝🔑💰🚧🎷🏆⚜️🔆🍻🍯🧀🍋🌦️🌻🐝🐣🐱🤲🫨🥱🍰🎾🎗️🏵️🚜🏜️🎁☢️☣️⚠️🚸🔱

Hi there, pile one! So this one is pretty dang straight forward. I see you embracing motherhood. This could be literal motherhood and you could be participating in raising a child but I also see it could be a pet. It definitely looks like it is a little bit of a surprise to everyone involved. I do need to warn you. I can see someone who says they’re on your corner trying to sabotage the situation. It could be purposeful but it also could be accidental. They could just be scared of such a big commitment. Make sure you are equally spreading out the work and everyone is carrying some of the weight of this commitment. There will be chaos if things are not equally distributed. Have everyone research how to help and read up on important information so everyone is on the same page. A village is needed to raise a child but if the village isn’t in harmony. All must be in tandem when raising a little one. If someone isn’t following along with everyone else make sure you are strict about how things are meant to be done. Do not let your village stray from the path. Keep nasty people away from this baby.

PILE 2

Crystal: Black Tourmaline

Astrology: ♉️♏️♓️♊️

Vibes: 🏳️‍🌈🌺🌈🦄💐🥗🍭🛼🎡🚦🎉🎊❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🛍️🌄🏩🏕️🎭🍎🍊🍋🍏🫐🍆🍇🍡🍬

Hellooo, pile 2! Your new journey is a self help adventure. You have been gaslit a lot in your life and I see you learning how to use discernment and seeing right through people's lies and straight to the truth. Your presence is becoming a truth serum for all that surrounds you. Your way more powerful than others have coerced you into believing. You have been polishing your skills in private and now you get to shine like the diamond in the rough you are. This journey might not even be something you notice as it comes and goes. You have proved yourself enough already. Allow yourself to stop filling the cups of others and take time to fill your own. If you do not you will eventually dull that shine and become just like those who coerced you. You have the choice to choose a different fate than the one they chose.

PILE 3

Crystal: Rainbow Moonstone

Astrology: ♎️♊️♏️♉️

Vibes: 💜💖🏳️‍⚧️🎀🫐🔮❄️🍆💠🍧🌸🐬🌷🪻🩵☂️🐙👙🚺👛💎🫦🦋😈💦☯️🩻💞🧷

Hi, pile 3! Your new adventure is a gender expression journey. You will be exploring femininity to its core. Femininity might not be something you are very familiar with but you are learning about using your charm and charisma to get what you desire. You are realizing how much your appearance means to you and how to use it in manifestation. It might be kind of scary to you due to some kind of trauma. I see you could be trans-feminine but i also see you being a cis woman and just afraid of what might happen if you use your appearance like that. The patriarchy is definitely terrifying so I understand the apprehension. Use your appearance for justice. Use your feminine charm for your desires. Do not fear because you are protected by spirit. I see Gaia looking after you while you explore your Empress energy.

PILE 4

Crystal: Flower Agate

Astrology: ♋️♓️♑️♒️

Vibes: 🖤❤️💯🕹️🎸♟️🎳🍉🎮🎹🍒🍓🔌🍎🚬🔥🪨👹🔪🥵🥊🛞🕷️🕸️🐞🦊👠♦️🧣🕶️💋💄♣️

Heyooo, pile 4! Oh my goodness this is exciting. Your new adventure is steeped in love. Romantic, platonic and familial love surround your lonely heart. You were a very lonely kid but now love is filling your life. Suitors are at every turn and you get to hand pick who gets to love you. Make sure you are using good discernment when choosing. Look into the future at what heart longs for and aim for it using that criteria. Your values should align with those you love and they should respect you. Don’t go for those who don't make you feel sparks. Don’t bet on boring or mean people because you deserve to be adored.

PILE 5

Crystal: Dragons Blood Jasper

Astrology: ♏️♍️♋️♌️

Vibes: 🖤🩵❤️🤍✒️⚗️📌🎹🎼💎🧲🎲🎱🧊🍷🫖🦨❄️🔥☁️🐧🦋🎒👟🕶️🪢🥼🫀🥶♠️

Pile 5, welcome to your reading. You are opening doors that you can not close. You are beginning a spiritual journey. It also looks like you are nearing the end of another journey. This journey is meant to take a lot of self reflection. You must stare into your shadow until you love it as much as you love your light. You must look at the part of you that disgust you with love and acceptance. Which believe me I am aware that is much easier said than done but you are ready! You can do this! Seek out a spiritual teacher or a therapist to show you the ropes of shadow work. Facing this alone is scary and it is much easier when you have someone to help guide you through the dark. The universe loves you and wants you to love you as much as it does.

[applebinnie]

▶︎˗ˏˋ k-k-keep ballin'! >< ´ˎ˗

𖦹 part I 𖦹

ᯤ basketball court regular!woonhak ᯤ ✎wc: 1k+, 12 images attached

→ Living in a small inner-city area, everybody knows everybody. But there's one particular boy that everybody surely knows—the boy who's constantly hogging the court, he basically owns it now. By perchance, you get to see this notorious "court monster" play up-close, after moments of watching him from afar, only to realize that he isn't really the kind of boy that you thought he was.

💭: RAGHHH this was originally written in filo nd I don't think it has the same charm as the filo one TT also, while writing this I found out I'm just Hak's age? I never felt more useless in my life 😭

🐈‍⬛⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ (づ˶•༝•˶)づ 🏀๋࣭ ‧₊˚✩‧ੈ⋆·˚ ༘ *🐈‍⬛

Your grip on the bike steer tightened, preparing to make a turn. You're passing by the village park. A wide playground next to an open air basketball court. In the court is a familliar figure, dribbling and dunking like his life depended on it.

Kim Woonhak.

It's not an exaggeration to say that he's the coolest boy in the block. Everybody knows him, rival teams in the league fear him, and no one watches him up-close. The neighboring town's challengers avoid him like a plague, they know they don't stand a chance against him. He's unbelievably tall for a boy his age, and he uses his height and swift reflexes to his advantage.

It was a perfect all kill. Every dunk was a clean shot. He stopped and took off his beanie, taking a breather while wiping his sweaty hair and eyeing the court. Seconds later two boys entered the court. Myung Jaehyun and Kim Leehan. They're Woonhak's teammates, equally skilled, but they can't beat Woonhak any day.

That was it, you wouldn't want to get caught watching these three play. You started pedaling as you hear more of the boys enter the court.

You head home and open the village forum. The forum was run by the town officials for the villagers to post in. A link in the forum's bio led to a separate forum for the village youth, mainly consisting of teenagers or people in their early 20s. The forum provided an "anonymous message service", sort of like a freedom wall.

"to: mr. court-monster(?)

everytime I pass by the court I always see this boy in playing basketball. he frequents the court, but I heard he doesn't quite like when he's being watched while practicing. is this true? I was zoning out and unintentionally stared, I'm very sorry. Sir, if you ever read this, I really didn't mean to stare, I'm sorry,"

A post wrote. It was pretty recent, just a few days ago. But yeah, you've heard all about it, how he didn't like to be watched.

What if he saw you? what if he thought you were a weirdo? But he didn't bat an eye at you, like he always does. He often tends to silence the entire world when the ball is in his hand, so you don't think he noticed.

At the very least, it was from afar. As long as he didn't notice you, your conscience is clear.

🐈‍⬛⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ (づ˶•༝•˶)づ 🏀๋࣭ ‧₊˚✩‧ੈ⋆·˚ ༘ *🐈‍⬛

Well yeah, he didn't notice you, but his friends sure did.

🐻:

Jaehyun and Leehan entered the court with a large grin.

"What the heck was that?" Jaehyun remarked teasingly, overlapping with Leehan's "You have got to be serious man" followed by giggles and an embarassing amount of head-shaking.

"Seriously, I didn't see anything!" Woonhak protests.

"She was just standing right there dude." Jaehyun says as he points to the spot you stopped on.

"What's that?" Leehan moves forward. He walks to the spot and picks up a single airpod.

"He looks at it as Jaehyun and Woonhak walk to him. He shows it to them with a pouty expression.

"How did she not notice that fall from her ear?" Woonhak remarks.

"Like you didn't see a person watching you like a hawk, you're not one to talk." Taesan joked from behind Woonhak.

Woonhak jumps, "Didn't see you there," he says as he slowly inches away from Taesan.

"You have absolutely no survival skills, I'll give you that." Taesan answers snarkily.

"So, what do we.." Leehan slowly says, lifting the single airpod.

"Woonhak, you gotta give it back, I mean, you're not actually planning on keeping it, are you?" Sungho says.

"Hey! What do you take me for?" Woonhak complains, grabbing the single airpod from Leehan's hand.

.✩✩✩.

As soon as Woonhak comes home he logs into his laptop and goes to the online forum.

🐈‍⬛⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ (づ˶•༝•˶)づ 🏀๋࣭ ‧₊˚✩‧ੈ⋆·˚ ༘ *🐈‍⬛

Scrolling through the form lazily, keeping up with the latest gossip along with threads of people asking questions and anonymous messages. The posts rushed like flood. There were videos too, videos of yesterday's conflict involving two drunk teens from the neighboring town. You decide to watch one of the videos. The quality was low, but how could you not recognize the man?

Jung Sungchan.

He was as notorious as Woonhak, only he was a little older and more known in a bigger vicinity. Sungchan is known to be cold and unlikeable. But one thing is he's really, really good. You've seen it yourself. Because unlike Woonhak, he loves being watched. He loves to bask in the attention even if he doesn't seem like it, and it's something that he will never admit. But it was pretty obvious given the scandalous amount of fights he's been in.

he got into a fight with a guy named yangyang, some eyewitnesses even say that they were attempting to drag some of woonhak's team mates in the mess.

You reach to your pocket for your airpods as you watch the video. The audio wasn't exactly nice. The scream threats might wake up your brother, Yujin, who was sleeping right next to you. He's one of Woonhak's friends, so you figured hearing this might alarm him.

The problem is, where are your airpods? You open the pod, revealing nothing but air. You panic at the sight of the empty pod and reach for your pocket to find it. You did find one, but you couldn't find the other one even if you wriggle and turn the pocket outside in. You accidentally scroll to the very top of the forum in panic, refreshing it. You were then greeted by a post that was made just minutes ago.

You wanted to curse, wrath and hide in embarrassment. This was the last situation you wanted to be in. It was recent, but not recent enough considering how yujin even made it into the comment section. You opened Woonhak's profile and messaged him.

"Seen."

You started to get nervous. You ears turned red as you imagine every possible reaction that Woonhak could make. You can already imagine how awkward the situation would be.

But we're dealing with Woonhak. If he is the Woonhak that people are talking about he'd probably just hand the airpod and get it over with.

And that'll be it. Why did you even get nervous in the first place?

🐈‍⬛⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ (づ˶•༝•˶)づ 🏀๋࣭ ‧₊˚✩‧ੈ⋆·˚ ༘ *🐈‍⬛

🐻:

🐈‍⬛⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ (づ˶•༝•˶)づ 🏀๋࣭ ‧₊˚✩‧ੈ⋆·˚ ༘ *🐈‍⬛

💭: hey guys! this was rushed so it's vv bad and the amount of times I accidentally posted this from my drafts is just criminal (x_x) if by chance you saw the earlier version PLEASE it will be just between us (╥﹏╥) Also, I changed my update schedule to Saturday! How does that sound? thank you for reading and wish you love, lovies!

-val 🧸

[signorinaclaudiacardinale]

Claudia Cardinale in "LIFE" magazine:

Italian beauty takes a desert bath on location in Nevada. /In this photo Claudia was filming "The Professionals" on July 8, 1966/

Claudia Cardinale, a wary beauty is afraid Hollywood will ruin her. Claudia Cardinale has a problem. At 26 she has become the most admitted international film star since Sophia Loren. Lusciously built along Italian lines, like Sophia, Claudia also has a special tender beauty in her face. Easy to work with, she is a director's pet. Unmarried, she has no close family worries. So what's her problem? Her problem is, now that she has finally agreed to work in Hollywood, she is afraid she will be over-glamorized and exploited-as Sophia was. Her first Hollywood movie, the recent 'Blindfold', confirms Claudia's worst fears of her. And she has two more coming up soon. Between Hollywood chores, she rushes away to make films in Italy, Spain, Brazil, anywhere but Hollywood. She gets paid less in Europe. "If I have to give up the money, I give it up," she insists, "I don't want to become a cliché."

She'd rather lose money than be a cliché In high spirits at being out of Hollywood and back in Italy, Claudia stopped her car to join villagers who had shouted "Claudia, Claudia", Then they all joined their favorite star for a picture.

Claudia likes the sun of Italy more than of Hollywood. Always rushing from one picture into another, she grabs five minutes to back on her Hotel Excelsior Lido balcony in Venice.

Anthony Quinn, who has acted with both Claudia and Sophia says: "I adore them equally But if I had to say, well, I relate easier to Claudia; Sophia creates an impression of something unobtainable but Claudia-She's not easy, still she's within reach".

Helping pick Miss Italy, Claudia lunches with each judges at Salsomaggiore. She got her own movie start by winning a rather specialized contest as "Most beautiful Italian in Tunisia". In Las Vegas, working on her next Hollywood picture, 'The Professionals'.

In Brazil a waiter proposed to her by mail, posted a marriage notice in his church, and changed his name to "Mr. Cardinale".

Claudia gobbles up a pile of magazines. She reads them to improve her English and keep up on fashions.

Claudia hangs on the words of Luchino Visconti, who directed her in 'Sandra', which won a Venice Festival prize.

Claudia says: "He sees me as cat that someday will turn into a tiger."

Credits:

📷 Photographs by Howell Conant. 📰 Text taken from the magazine "Life" in 1966. 🎥 My Gifs are behind the scenes of "The Professionals" memories.