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darklydeliciousdesires · 3 months

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Light on the Darkside - An Original Story.

Well, guys, here it is! I've been planning this premise for a while, but very recently the pieces of it all fell together, the main characters virtually materialised by themselves, and here we have it. I won't lie, it will be quite dark for the first couple of chapters, and if you are easily triggered by depression, suicide or anorexia, I'd give it a miss, but I have injected a lot of love and heart into it, and some comic moments as well. It does start to lighten considerably by the third chapter.

I had to AI my main characters in their appearance, unfortunately, since I can't really find anyone in reality to face claim them to.

So, here we go. Please remember to be kind and give me a reblog on this, as original fiction is so very overlooked on this site, any help promoting it would be greatly appreciated. I would love to hear your thoughts, too!

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed.

Words - 4,137

Warnings - 18+ throughout. Topics cover depression, suicide and eating disorders. Minors DNI!

The fateful swing of a pendulum; some say it is as precarious as this, the thing that bridges the gap between life and death. Swing too far and the darkness engulfs you forever, eternal sleep settling over a body, whether willingly or not. Not enough, and it swings you back into the light, again, whether willingly or not.

For James Kingston, on the 21st of March, 1997, it wasn’t willingly.

The wings of death had opened to him, shrouded him in the alluring caress of her inky, feathered shadows, enveloped and lifted his consciousness away from it all. His body should have followed.

It hadn’t.

“James Nathaniel Kingston, twenty-three years old, found almost asphyxiated on the bathroom floor by the 999 caller twenty minutes ago. Both forearms slashed and approximately thirty co-codamol and twenty ibuprofen tablets imbibed with half a bottle of tequila.”

Light. Dark. Noise. So much noise. Pressure lifted from his arms, applied once again when the wounds began to gush. More shouting. A light shined into his eyeballs in turn. A tube down his throat.

“Just let me fucking go.”

It had been quiet, where he’d temporarily found himself. Quiet and devoid of everything, exactly what he wished for, a slither of peace finally filling the void of emptiness that had opened within him to such an extent, nothing could fill it comfortably. And god, how he’d attempted to.

In the end, the burden of existence had weighed upon him with an immovable, unfathomable pressure, his resolve breaking, toppling, his foundations crumbling like an ancient tower under the brutal duress of a wrecking ball. Slipping into it, he’d taken the large knife, just about coherent enough to open both arms and watch the river of red flow, witness his life draining out in a gush of crimson that glittered sticky over his dark clothes.

Vomit, a surge of it exiting his mouth into a receptacle held by a man in hospital clothing, telling him not to fight it. Charcoal. God, that was foul. He’d been so close, happily floating his way into the eternal embrace of death. How dare they interfere with it.

“James, come on. Lie back, buddy. Let the tube go.”

Heaving again, he yanked it from his throat, his fist connecting with the doctor’s face, vomit and blood splashing all over. Hands pushed against him, held him down.

“I need all available staff in here to hold him still!”

Oh, no. “Get the fuck off me!” His booted foot lashed out, connected with someone, something, a yelp sounding, his bloodied forearm hitting a nurse in her throat. “Get off me or I’ll fucking break your neck!”

Multiple hands fought against his thrashing, the tube plunged back into his throat. More charcoal. More vomit. “Okay, his stomach is clear. Sedate him so we can actually stitch his arms up.”

It took six members of the A&E staff to hold him still, until the effects of the drugs injected into his system sent him back into a world of pure, beautiful black, his body stilling. He was finally under control, his blood type attained, three units of AB negative lined into his arm, the nurse who he’d kicked in the chest beginning to stitch him up.

She showed him all the care he likely wouldn’t have thanked her for, remarking to herself that what she was witnessing was no simple cry for help. This young man, he’d wanted death, sought it avidly, the cuts she stitched so deep, she was surprised he’d survived going on those alone. Twenty-three and he was so weary with whatever he carried mentally, he’d only seen this, something so horrific, as a viable exit plan.

In the waiting room, two of his friends were seated, the young men revealing a little background on him when she’d gone out to give them the relieving news that he’d survived. They were members of the same band, a band who by all accounts was just beginning to take off, James the lead guitarist of the outfit named Nocturnal Descent.

She’d tentatively asked if they had any clue why he’d done it. The taller of the two, with full sleeves of tattoos and two bleached streaks in the front of his long, dark hair had shaken his head. “He’s a bit moody sometimes, bad tempered an’ all. Unless he’s been drinking then he’s larger than life, but nah. Nothing that’s made me think he’s about to do himself in. He cuts himself sometimes, likes the pain, he’s into the whole blood letting thing and whatever, but nah. No idea.”

Witnessing the older scars that flecked his arms, she could believe that.

“He’s been quiet for a bit,” the other man had confirmed, while he’d sat picking at one of his long, ginger dreadlocks. “Wasn’t nothing that made us wonder if he was alright or not. Just gets like that sometimes. Especially when he’s tired. Jim likes his sleep.”

How close he’d come to finding that eternally, the nurse thought, finishing up her stitching. She then cut him out of his vomit stained, blood drenched clothes, giving him a little wash down so at least he was fresh and comfortable when he did finally come around.

“God, fella,” she marvelled, “I’d bloody kill for your hair.” Poker straight, jet black and only a few inches from reaching his waist. He likely did little to keep it so beautiful, too, such was the injustice there when men possessed lovely hair, or amazing legs, and it not be anything they particularly put an effort into.

“Well, that’s you all sorted. I certainly hope you’re more pleasant than you were before when you wake up again.” With that, she left him there in the room he’d been moved to in the side ward, likely to remain until he was assessed by doctors. Bodily, he’d need some time to heal and recover from the physical trauma of attempting suicide, but it’d be what was going on up in his head that would be subject to the deeper assessment.

It was an hour before he finally began to come around a little, able to hear voices outside of the room he was in. He groaned faintly, his thoughts all plummeting down into the very depths of the dark once more.

“Fuck. Still alive. Steve’s a prick.”

Steve, he guessed, had likely been the one who’d found him and called an ambulance. It wouldn’t have been Snedders, who’d already been too stoned to move more than three feet when James had decided to lock himself in the bathroom and end it all.

No, once Liam ‘Snedders’ Snedderley hit the weed, his speed decreased to that of a tranquilised sloth. Amazing really, for a man who could drum with such velocity, a whirlwind of ginger dreadlocks swirling as he did. This? It was definitely Steve. His best mate, who at that particular moment he loathed.

“Just wanted to die, but no. Selfish bastard couldn’t even let me have that. Top grade twat.”

Whether there’d be a time to come where he’d lighten such hostility, he didn’t know, attempting to lift his arm and scratch his nose but finding he couldn’t. Opening his eyes, the lights of the room obnoxiously bright, he grumbled, looking down to see his bandaged arms both fastened into wrist restraints.

“Usually got a bird on my cock when I’m bound up.” His thoughts were accompanied by a little smirk that quickly faded, tuning his ears to the voices coming from outside of his room. “Ahh, fuck. The duchess is here.” He’d recognise the shrill tones of his mother even through a lead lined box.

And she was on form, as usual.

“It's this whole scene he’s gotten himself into, that’s what’s brought it on! He started listening to this black metal nonsense when he was fourteen, had started a band by sixteen and now his entire life revolves around the darkness of it!”

The doctor she was talking at rather than to cleared his throat, wanting to at least attempt a little diplomacy in how he handled the balance of fact, and remaining tactful with a woman whose son had just made a serious attempt on his own life. “Mrs. Kingston, it’s a little more complex than that when we are dealing with clinical depression, of which I am inclined to suspect your son is suffering from severely, should we take his actions into consideration.”

Her ranting to the contrary continued. Truly, nobody knew it all like Carole Kingston, James lying there wishing he’d stabbed himself in the ears so he didn’t have to listen to her. His music was his solace, something he could pour the darkness within himself into, make the noise in his head and the bleakness in the epicentre of him a little more bearable to deal with. She’d never hear that reasoning, though. Never hear him.

“Carole,” he heard his father speak tersely, not even needing to witness him to know that he was likely pinching the bridge of his nose after removing his glasses. It was an Alan Kingston go to when aggravated. “You know he’s gotten a lot better since he started the band. The doctor is right, though. I think it’s been going on longer than we wanted to admit.”

Thank fuck his dad wasn’t working nights and he wouldn’t have to deal with his mother alone, with his head torn to pieces. That strong Liverpudlian lilt that most found either comedic or grating never failed to soothe him.

“For how long, would you say, Mr. Kingston?”

“Ahh, probably since he was about eleven or twelve, you know. We just thought it was teenage hormones, moodiness. They didn’t talk about it when we were kids, all this depression stuff, so we didn’t really know it was that we were dealing with. Well, I think I always had an inclining, but I just shoved it down, you know. He needs us to acknowledge it now, so we can get him well. Whatever that looks like going forward.”

“I want him back home with us,” she spoke hotly, “where I can keep a flippin’ eye on him!”

“Should’ve definitely gone for a fucking noose.” James thought darkly, actually snorting a small burst of laughter through his groggy state.

“Carole, he’s twenty-three,” Alan began in reasoning, “he’s a grown adult. You can’t babysit him every last second of the day.”

He smiled at that. At least his dad always fought his corner.

“I’m afraid that likely won’t be an option for him currently. He needs to be further assessed once his sedation wears off, but I personally will be recommending that James is sectioned under the mental health act.”

“Sectioned?” Carole spluttered, her mouth dropping wide. “You want to throw my son in some asylum? And what the bloody hell has he been sedated for?”

“Woo, I get to go to the funny farm,” he thought, his thoughts raining sarcasm. “Better than wrath of the mother, though.” Sarcasm was the drug-addled response, his temper placated enough not to begin vying for escape at the thought of being committed against his will.

Out in the corridor, his father feared for whoever was charged in actually moving him to the psychiatric facility he knew James would likely end up in, though. He might have been slight, but he was all lithe muscles and long limbs at six feet three. And god, he’d seen his son fight before when finally growing a backbone against his school bullies.

Sedated might be the best way to keep him, as much as it pained him, knowing his precious boy only had confinement and a course of medication that would probably zombify him in his immediate future.

“Mrs. Kingston, James was in quite a state while having his stomach pumped. He became extremely violent with a number of staff members attempting to treat him, so sedation was the only logical course.”

Sedation and restraint, his wrists burning beneath the padded leather cuffs that tethered him to the bed. Well, he had kicked one nurse in the chest and threatened a second with breaking her neck, he could just about remember. He felt bad about that. While he might have been a brawler when presented with anything that threatened him, James had never, ever been the type to hurt a woman.

Quite the opposite, he liked to think.

Women and his treatment of them were the last of his worries at that moment, though, listening for a little longer to what the doctor had to say before succumbing to the need to doze. He felt tired down to his bones. When he did come around again, he saw his dad he sat sitting at his bedside, Alan smiling wearily at him. In all of this, he was the last person he’d wanted to hurt. Truly though, he’d thought of little else as his life had faded upon the bathroom floor. Only his elation to leave it behind.

“It’s quiet. Where’s the duchess?”

At least his sense of humour was intact. “Gone to get herself a cuppa,” he confirmed, shuffling his chair closer as he reached to rest a hand on his arm. “Scared the bloody life out of me, you did. How you feeling now, kidda?”

“Sick, but not like I want to throw up or anything.”

Alan nodded, his forehead creasing with a deep line of concern. “Not surprising, with the number of tablets they had to pump out of your stomach.” His eyes saddened, thumb pressing against his inner elbow. “Why’d you do it, lad? You know you can always come and talk to your old man here, if you’re not feeling right, eh? Always said that, haven’t I?”

His mouth twitched, James trying to find a way to word it that wouldn’t hurt his dad more than he already was. Truly, there was little adequate recourse to the truth of the matter. “Just don’t wanna be alive no more, dad. It’s fucking meaningless, innit?”

“Here now,” he soothed, his hand reaching to grip his shoulder. “Don’t you say that, me lad. Got the bloody world at your feet, eh? The band’s starting to take off, you’re out there doing what you want to do. It’s got all the meaning in the world, mate.”

He sighed through his nose, his eyes falling down to momentarily gaze upon where he was restrained. “Nah. Don’t feel like that. Just feel fucking empty, dad.”

“Well, that’s apparent. The doctor thinks he knows why, and I happen to agree with him. Getting it through to your mother, though, different story. As you might guess.” He paused for a second, drawing himself up a little taller in his seat. “They think you’ve got clinical depression, kidda. If I’m honest, I reckon you’ve had it a while, you know. I blame myself, for seeing it and not doing anything, watching you become withdrawn and all that.”

James shrugged. “Ain’t your fault. Just the way I am, innit?”

“It doesn’t have to be, mate,” Alan stated, James seeing it there in his face, the fear, the anguish he’d caused. And he was still here putting him through it. Yeah. Fuck Steve for calling that ambulance. Fuck himself, too, for being like this in the first place and putting people through all of the worry. “They can treat it with pills, try and mend whatever it is in your head that’s broken. It doesn’t have to be like this, eh?”

“Wouldn’t be like this at all if people just let me die, like I want to.” He didn’t say that aloud, though, staying silent for a few moments, his eyes flitting over to the other side of the room.

“You want me to leave you alone for a bit, son?”

“Nah,” he sighed, turning back to his dad. “Can you undo these straps, though?”

“Can’t, mate,” he lamented, “you pose what they’re calling a significant violence risk. Apparently, you went full Vinnie fucking Jones on the team who were trying to save your life. Little shite.”

You little shite; it had been his dad’s go to since he was about three whenever he played up. His mouth twitched, something resembling a small smile curling the corner of his full lips. “Ain’t that little no more though.”

“Yeah, the nurse with a boot shaped bruise coming up between her knockers knows all about that!”

He puffed his cheeks, eyes widening a little. “Doubt I’m popular.”

“I’m sure she’s had worse than that in her time, kidda.”

“Yeah, but kicking her in the tits?” James exclaimed, snorting a little laugh. “That ain’t my style, dad. Not unless they like it a bit rough.”

The little snap of teeth his son followed that statement with had Alan wheezing with quiet laughter. “Bad lad. I’ll never bloody forget you coming down the stairs with that girl Helena, and the poor lass is doing her best to cover the bloody bite marks all over her chest with her hair. And then your mother sees ‘em and gives you the death glare. ‘So, you’ve been up there shagging all afternoon, have you?’ she shouts, and I’m sitting there trying not to laugh at the smug look on your face.”

God, Helena. That had been a while ago, the girl he’d been with for just over a year at sixteen. “Said she looked like someone had flung her in a piranha tank.”

Alan’s wheezing amped up considerably at that, a small slither of relief settling in him to see his boy smiling a little. It was a momentary reprieve in a harrowing situation. God, if Steve hadn’t been there. Alan had hugged him tightly upon arriving in the waiting room, thanking him over and over for kicking the bathroom door down and acting quickly, clearing the vomit from his mouth, wrapping his arms in towels and calling an ambulance. He’d saved him. He’d always been a good lad, Steve.

“Look at you now, though. Grinning like an idiot, being that smug little shite I love with all my bloody heart, mate. Can’t be that bad all the time, can it?”

James didn’t blame his dad for seeking out a silver lining at all, although the truth wasn’t so simple. “Doesn’t matter, dad. I can be onstage with the band, out drinking, biting on tits while I’m shagging some girl ragged, laughing my arse off and all that, but underneath I’m still the same. Still got all this shit I can’t get rid of.”

“I just don’t understand it,” he huffed, scratching his thick beard. No. And that was the problem. Nobody did. “We’re going to get you some help though. You just need to sit tight with it. You aren’t going to like this one bit, lad, but there’s talk of having you sectioned. I think the doctor wants to have you further assessed and they’ll go from there, but personally I think it’s the best place for you right now.”

“Do I have any say in that?”

His mouth straightened into a thin line, shaking his head. “No, son. Chasing thirty co-codamol and twenty ibuprofen tablets with half a bottle of San Jose and then opening up both your bloody arms takes that away from you. You need help, James. Help I don’t think you’d actively go and seek on your own.”

The hidden undertones were clear, rippling in worry just below his father’s strong surface. If he was allowed to leave the hospital of his own volition, he’d simply go and finish himself off and actually accomplish it. It was true, too. James had already earmarked the motorway bridge over the M6, should he find his way out of the looming threat of being sectioned. He doubted he’d survive a truck smacking into him at seventy miles an hour.

The door opened, revealing his mother, a steaming paper cup in her grasp. As soon as her eyes found his, she did what he least expected. She sobbed. He was expecting rage, a tirade, a full-blown stream of haranguing. For that moment, at least, it didn’t materialise, Carole striding around to the other side of the bed and placing her tea down, her throat pinched as she cried, reaching for him and stroking his hair as she kissed his forehead repeatedly.

“You, and it, and you could have...” Only squeaks followed, Carole hugging his head as she broke down. “You nearly died, James! You nearly flippin’ well died, you silly bloody thing! Why did you do it, love? What happened?”

He winced, feeling slightly smothered, the scent of her very strong perfume a little too much for his senses as she continued to hug him. “Like I just said to dad, it’s how I feel all the time. Just hollow, innit. Don’t wanna be here.”

Straightening, her hands went to her hips, cocking her head. “That’s bloody absurd!”

Oh, here she was.

“Carole,” her husband warned, “go easy. He doesn’t need chewing out right now.”

“I beg very much to differ!” Turning back to her eldest, she stared at him with wide eyes, James desiring nothing more than wishing he could unfasten himself and put some distance between them. “James, you need to snap out of this. Acting glum is one thing, but trying to kill yourself, without a second thought for your family?”

“Carole,” Alan spoke again, looking exasperated.

“It’s all this bloody black metal, isn’t it? Corpse paint and death! Bleakness and sorrow, you’re bringing it on yourself!”

Alan was just about to speak, his son getting in first. “Mum, I love you to bits, I do. That isn’t anything to do with it. Stop looking for things to blame it on. I’m not happy and I could listen to all that pop music shit like Sam does and it wouldn’t make a fucking difference, I-”

“Language!” she cut in with.

“Oh, piss off!”

“Don’t you bloody talk to me like that, my boy!” she raged through her tears, Alan standing up and moving quickly to her side of the bed.

“Come on, this isn’t happening now. He ain’t in the state to hear you being irrational. Go wait outside for me. Drink your tea and have a ciggie, calm down a bit, eh.” Picking up the paper cup, he steered his wife in the direction of the door, shushing her when she made further attempts at protest. “I know you’re upset, petal, but this isn’t about you. Go on, now.”

Shutting the door, he turned back to the bed, taking a very deep breath. “Better?”

“Yeah. Thanks, dad,” he confirmed, the unpleasant feeling in his stomach that his mother’s tirade had left beginning to sink again. It wasn’t her fault really; she was just very highly strung. She only did it because she loved her children deeply, but he and his younger sister Sam did often feel either stifled or prickled by Carole’s particular brand of parenting. “Can you do something else for me?”

“Of course I can, lad.”

He beckoned with a little jerk of his head. “Can you scratch my nose, just above the piercing? It’s driving me more mental than I already am.”

Alan beamed, wheezing a soft laugh. “Must be, kidda.” Reaching, he scratched at his nose, patting his cheek gently once done before he sat down again. “I remember when you did that. Ice, a whacking great bit darning needle, and blood all over the sink. Daft sod, eh.”

A doctor came in to check on him not long afterwards, telling him that for the immediate moment, he was being restrained under the mental health act on a temporary hold, subject to further assessment come the morning. He wouldn’t be allowed out of his restraints, or transferred to a ward. He would stay where he was until a bed was found at a psychiatric facility, the doctor assuring him they’d attempt to find somewhere within the Warwickshire area.

His dad only stayed a further ten minutes after that, James feeling woozy again after being administered a sleeping pill, the doctor feeling it best for him to stay medicated in order to rest after his ordeal.

“I’ll come by tomorrow on me dinner break to see you. Love you all the world, lad.”

Not being particularly affectionate, he didn’t expect to hear the same back, but the smile his son gave confirmed it. Poor kid, he truly couldn’t comprehend just how bent out of shape he was at that moment, but he could at least take some comfort in the fact that the problem he’d tried to pretend didn’t exist for so long was finally being treated.

As for James, all he could do as he fell into a synthetically delivered sleep was despair that he was still there to be treated at all.

#original fiction #original stories #romance fiction #romance stories #smutty fic #tw: suidice #tw: depression #tw: anorexia

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rainbowmoonstonestories · 1 year

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Let Your Dreams Be Your Wings | Chapter 9

Chapters: 9/? Fandom: The Sandman (Netflix 2022, minor content from the Comics) Rating: Explicit Relationships Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x F!Reader Characters: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus, Lucienne, Matthew the Raven, Mervyn Pumpkinhead, Hob Gadling, Death, Rose Walker, The Corinthian, other minor Sandman characters, Original Characters. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, POV switching, very long chapters to read. Summary: You always dreamed of becoming a successful Fashion Designer, sharing your creations with the world and making your father proud. But with him being very ill and so many costs solely weighting on your shoulders, things didn’t go as planned and you had to take a different path instead. An interesting offer led you to the elder Alex Burgess and you were hired as a new housemaid for a very good pay. However, your kindness and outstanding empathy convinced the man to give you an additional task for a doubled compensation; gaining the trust of Dream Of the Endless, held captive into the basement for over a century. Despite the shock of finding such an ethereal entity stripped of all his clothes and contained into a confined space, you had to accept for the sake of your father. But the more you got to speak to the mysterious anthropomorphic personification who didn’t utter a single word, the more you were lost into his eyes that, conversely, seemed to contain the entire universe. A deep connection formed between the two of you, separated only by a thick layer of glass.

Little did you know, what started like a simple housemaid job was about to change your life forever.

Credits: The moon dividers were made by firefly-graphics

This chapter includes detailed smut. Minors please dni!

Tagging: @number-0-iz. If anyone else wants to be tagged in the next updates, let me know! I noticed that Tumblr sometimes won't let me tag everyone for some unknown reason, so if it comes to that I can at least send you a message to notify you.

Ko-Fi (If you ever wish to support my work)

Note: This chapter is, once again, particularly long. If you feel like reading it on Tumblr is not convenient, feel free to do so on AO3 instead (link at the bottom). I only ask that you like and/or share this post so that other people can find my work. I would really appreciate it! ♥

Morpheus opened up about a tragedy from his past. However, he was keeping from you a lot more.

"So, how old are you exactly?”

Hob turned his face toward you, his eyes brimming with a tinge of mischievousness and curiosity as he issued a brief, soft chuckle. “I was wondering if you would ever ask about that,” he said in a cheerful and playful tone of voice.

"You don’t just find out on a daily basis that your best friend can live forever," you said, displaying a mixture of excitement and surprise.

Hob moved his hands in a dismissive gesture. "Do you know who he is, truly?”

“Do you?”

"To an extent, yes. Or at least, I think I do,” he replied. "Took me a while to understand that though. He's not exactly the most talkative being in existence.”

He smiled wryly, recalling the multitude of attempts he had made to get Morpheus to open up and divulge more about his personal background.

“How did you find out?” He asked.

You bit your lower lip, hesitating slightly on what to express as you tried to choose your words with utmost caution. Morpheus had evidently not revealed the specifics of his long captivity to Hob, and you didn't want to spill the details that the King of Dreams hadn't felt prepared to share with him yet.

"I wasn't even supposed to meet him, but in the end, I was introduced to him. It all happened by chance."

Your explanation didn’t exactly constitute a falsehood. Hob, on the other hand, didn’t show much faith in what you told him, his expression showing a hint of skepticism.

“Y/N, tell me the truth. Something happened to him, didn’t it?”

You took a deep breah. “Why do you think that?”

"Come on, things are a little too vague. You told me you met this guy at your workplace, but you've been evading most of my questions about him. I noticed the way he changed, I feel like you know more than you want to admit."

Your feelings of discomfort were evident as you regarded him with a look of guilt on your face. If you were to share the informations in your possession without Morpheus’ explicit consent, you would most likely incur his disapproval and potential ire.

You were torn between your loyalty to your best friend and your desire to be respectful with the man you loved.

You turned your body to properly face him as you touched his shoulder, your fingers curling around it lightly and your gaze meeting his as you spoke. "Hob, I'm sorry. I would never want to lie to you," you said, feeling remorseful. "I only think it's best for him to tell you himself.”

There was a moment of palpable silence as he seemed lost in thought. But then, he tried to alleviate the tension by gently clasping your hand, leaning back on the bench with a reassuring smile.

"Just tell me one thing: whatever occurred to him, was it bad? Is this why he stood me up in 1989?” He inquired.

You sighed heavily. "Yes, it was awful. And yes, he couldn’t come to your appointment because of that occurance.”

Hob exhaled a sigh of relief. “Well, now I know he wasn’t trying to avoid me.”

“You were not the problem, I assure you.”

He laughed lightly, his expression conveying a sense of calmness, finally dismissing his accumulated worries and frustrations.

"To answer your question, I am starting to lose count of my age. I met our friend over 600 years ago, which should give you a good indication,” he explained.

While you had previously been aware of the concept of immortality, the notion of a human never experiencing death was still quite unbelievable to you.

"How were you able to stay in one place for so long?”

Hob responded with a shrug. "I can't say it was easy. At times, I had to pretend to be someone else and changed my name. Other times, people assumed I had given up my soul to the bloody devil. There was this one woman in 1789, Lady Johanna Constantine, who claimed to want to know the secret of immortality.”

“What happened then?”

His lips curved upward into a wide grin, his entire face now emitting an aura of amusement and contentment. "Oh, that's quite a story. Imagine this: we were sitting at our table when this mysterious woman showed up with two big men in tow and a painting that did us no justice. She said: ‘They tell of a tale in these London parts, that the Devil and the Wandering Jew meet once every century in a tavern.’”

You laughed heartily at his comical attempt to mimic her persona, the gesture of placing his hands together in his lap and straightening up while doing so creating a humorous picture in your mind.

"The Wandering Jew?" You trembled with laughter as you repeated the words. "Was that meant to be you?”

You were unable to suppress the mirth that welled up inside you, amused by the absurdity of the situation. However, his statement still held a certain degree of wit and charm, despite being quite far-fetched.

"Oh yes. She took out this sketch of him resembling a Vulture from the Twilight movies, and me looking like something terrible happened to my nose.”

It was difficult to retain your composure, as you found yourself wanting to laugh even more. “And then what?”

“She continued: ‘You return to this pub every 100 years, striking bargains with men, sharing gifts, immortality, which you will now share with me.’”

As Hob continued to mimic the woman’s manners, his pitch became lower and more bass. You were quite surprised to see how crisp and clear his recollections were despite the lengthy period of time that had gone by since that day.

“He didn’t even flinch, you know. He never does. Johanna Constantine expressed even more interest in learning things from him, but in the end, he politely refused.”

It was astounding to see how hooked you now were to his narrative, the story capturing your interest and drawing you in.

“There was a little conflict when her smugglers stepped forward. I proudly knocked them out, but she directed the tip of her knife at my throat, the viper. Then, our friend stood up calmly and composed, blew some sand into her face and she dropped to the floor. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she pleaded, whispering in desperation while being confronted by a nightmare that only she could see.”

You felt excited, placing your elbow against the back of the bench and listening attentively.

“I think that was the first time I actually started to connect the dots.”

“I wish I could have seen you back then.”

Hob's face brightened with joy and satisfaction as he smiled at you. He released a breath from his nostrils and affectionately patted your knee in a brotherly way. “I’m glad you know my secret now. You have no idea how many times I considered telling you everything.”

“You know, if I hadn’t met him, I would have found it to be nearly impossible to believe,” you said.

"And for a good reason. I was at a loss for words myself when I realized that I wasn't aging at all.”

“How did it happen?”

He replied with a shake of his head. “It was the year of 1389. I was drinking with my friends, having a good time. I simply joked about how I considered death a mug's game, seeing the majority of the people in my village taken away.”

“Black Death?”

He nodded. “So I made up my mind, declaring that I wasn’t going to die. And I didn’t.”

Your eyebrows lifted in curiosity at his statement. “That’s it?”

“He showed up right in that moment, saying that I had to tell him how it was like. He knew my name, proposed to meet again in that same tavern after 100 years. I thought he was joking, really.”

You hummed in understanding. “And a century later, you were both there.”

“We were.”

“So, how did it feel like?”

His smile expanded further as he observed your genuine curiosity. “Scary, confusing, amazing, absolutely incredible, bloody brilliant.”

Morpheus had informed you about his excitement surrounding the prospect of immortality. While it might seem like a blessing to many mortals, you always believed it to be quite a bane for the simple reason that you would be destined to outlive every friend and loved one.

Yet, this didn’t seem to be enough to make Hob wish for Death to come knocking at his door.

“You should join me.”

You snapped out of your thoughts, your head tilting with confusion. “What?”

“I won’t lie to you. As much as I love all this, sometimes it can get lonely,” he admitted. “If you were granted the same thing, we could embark on this journey together and build a better future. Wouldn’t it be fun?”

While he may have delivered the comment in a light-hearted manner, you could distinctly detect that a part of him was quite earnest about the idea.

“Hob, he wasn’t the one who made it possible.”

“Maybe, but I still got it. This means that it could easily happen to anyone else, right?”

Anyone else, including you.

You contemplated the advantages and drawbacks of committing to an existence alongside your lover in the world of Dreams and your best friend in the Waking World. You were unsure as to whether it would be appropriate to request a similar gift for their sakes, considering there was still so much you didn’t know about Morpheus, or immortality itself.

"I have many other stories to tell, ones I can only share with you. Do you want to hear them?”

You fully turned your body, bringing your legs over each other and bracing your head with one hand. You reclined on the bench, adjusting your position to be more comfortable as you encouraged him. “I’m all ears!”

Your phone rang.

It emitted a loud and consistent sound that reverberated throughout the living room, causing you to rush to pick up the call. When you saw the name flashing on the display, you paused in utter disbelief. You hadn’t been in contact with that particular friend of yours since your college years, losing track of her once she relocated to a foreign Country in order to pursue her degree. You had enstablished a questionable tendency to distance yourself from those dear to you, providing them with the opportunity to embark on their adventures and find their place in the world without your presence constraining them.

You were not certain as to what her intentions were and why she decided to connect with you after such a prolonged period of time. You hesitated before pressing the answer button, wondering if it was merely a mistake and she had dialed the incorrect number.

After a slight delay, you eventually answered the call to stave off the risk of her terminating the communication. “Hello…?”

“Y/N!!!!”

You had to move the device away from your ear as the boisterous exclamation caused it to vibrate against your skull with significant force.

“Oh my goodness, It’s been so long! How have you been?”

“Ella…? Is it really you?”

"Of course it's me, silly! Who else would be calling you from my number?”

Her positive and upbeat approach to life was something that you always found endearing and enjoyable, it was easy for you to smile.

“Y/N? Are you there?”

“I am, sorry. I’m just a little surprised. I wasn’t expecting a call from you.”

You heard her sigh. "I know this is sudden. I should have called you a long time ago, but things got so hectic that I cut myself out from everything and everyone I used to know.”

“I understand.”

A huge wave of teenage memories crashed over your mind, making you feel simultaneously sentimental and nostalgic. Everything appeared far away in your mind, and still somehow clear.

“Look, I need to be honest with you,” she continued. “The truth is that I need your help. And it is absolutely vital for us that you come over for an interview.”

As if pulled by an invisible force, your eyes rapidly opened and closed. “Wait, Ella. What exactly does that even mean?”

“Oh, right. I should explain.”

You were met with a sound resembling sandpaper rubbing on flesh, followed by a loud cough as she cleared her throat.

Ella was known for getting extremely itchy whenever she felt nervous, unable to overcome that nasty habit that led her to wound her own skin as a result of a persistent scratching. Apparently, that old habit hadn't left her, because you could tell it was happening at that very moment during your conversation.

"A few days ago, you contacted our company, Corbyn&Jones. The CEO is my husband, and it seems like he spoke a little too soon, sending you that hasty email.”

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets in shock, and your body immediately shifted into an upright position on the couch. “Oliver Corbyn is your husband…?”

Ella gave out a subtle chuckle. “Indeed. And we found ourselves in an awful situation, to put it mildly.”

Your hand started to shake and perspire as you gripped your phone harder. “He said you didn’t have any vacant spot.”

"Yes, that was the case before our former designer decided to buy a one-way ticket to the US," she replied. “You can imagine my surprise when I saw your name on that email.”

You inhaled sharply, proceeding to remove a handful of strands from your face.

“Y/N, I’ll just be blunt. The interview would be a formal way to introduce you to the team. I absolutely want you on board either way, and Oliver agreed.”

You nearly dropped your phone, grasping it with both hands to secure it. "Ella, this is great and all, but we haven't seen each other in years. You don't have to put in a good word for me," you said hesitantly.

The scratchy sound intensified.

"I never stopped considering you my friend, Y/N. More than that, your work is absolutely outstanding. You know I've always been a fan of your creations, but this time, you've got a portfolio to die for.”

You couldn't decide what was more touching: the fact that she valued your work enough to implement it in her company, or the way she still seemed to value your friendship despite the time apart.

"You can think about it, I don’t expect an answer right away. Why don't you come by and show me more of your drawings? You can take a look around, get to know what we do and the requirements for the job. We could share a cup of tea, have a little chat, reconnect. I think it would be lovely, don’t you?”

You had a strong desire to reunite with your longtime friend. You also wanted to experience the full flavor of the fashion industry to demonstrate to yourself that you did not mistakenly choose the wrong career path.

Failing to seize an opportunity that you had been looking forward to would have constituted a huge mistake on your part. You were finally ready to shine and you intended to let your light flow for once. All of it.

“How about tomorrow?”

The joyful shriek she emitted in response to your acceptance was as deafening as it was heartwarming. Based on the intense drumming of her heels against the floor, one could easily tell that she was kicking her feet enthusiastically as a manifestation of her growing delight.

A broad smile had found its way onto your countenance after concluding the phone call, your heart beating rapidly at the prospect of the imminent future. One that was still shrouded in mystery, but was already filled with numerous enticing and stimulating developments.

Ella Jones Corbyn.

It dawned on you that the name Corbyn was generally associated with dark, mysterious, and just the right amount of spooky. It was a variation of Corbin, a name with English and French roots, where its meaning was none other than "Raven".

You had long since discarded your faith in coincidences, believing that they were nothing more than the result of a combination of numerous aspects rather than random incidents.

You were traversing a lengthy, dimly lit passageway, its light sources emitting an aura akin to that of a complex maze, as you found yourself lost in its obscure, labyrinthine atmosphere. Despite your lack of knowledge with regards to your exact whereabouts, you felt a strong urge to continue advancing within the corridor in a quest to uncover what awaited you at its terminus.

You felt a faint hint of recognition within the setting, as the surroundings reminded you of a place that you had most certainly seen prior. You continued walking along your path, and a long set of stairs materialized before your eyes. Wet tiles seemed to lock into place like a jigsaw, allowing you to go downward.

You descended further and further, until finally landing on a flat surface. The area was completely dominated by a deep blackness, with the exception of the candles that were attached to the walls, casting a soft glow over the space with their flickering flames.

The chills ran down your spine and you hugged yourself, inhaling deeply. You proceeded cautiously, taking deliberate steps that felt as ponderous as a mountain's burden. When you moved onward, an intensely brilliant radiance suddenly erupted ahead of you, as if someone had turned the switch of a spotlight on. You narrowed your eyes in an effort to adapt to its brightness, only to notice an elusive form gaining clarity at the very center of the light.

A moment later, you felt your heart skip a beat, which caused your insides to feel a stinging sensation. Morpheus was there, seated inside a glass sphere on the platform of the familiar basement, completely naked and afflicted.

“No,” you breathed out, your voice breaking up due to the distress and anguish you were feeling. “Not again, please.”

You attempted to hasten toward him but your legs failed to move. As you uttered his name again and again, he didn’t raise his gaze on you. It was as if you weren’t even there.

You were frightened and strove to capture his attention, desperately trying to let him know that he was not there alone. However, the instant you managed to inch forward, you felt the clutches of a firm hold on both of your arms, coming from someone who immediatly yanked you away.

You cast your eyes upward, discerning two guards stationed on either side of you, although their faces were somewhat distorted, glitchy and unsetting. As you attempted to break free, your body became disobedient to your commands to shake them off of you.

You screamed as loudly as you could, imploring Morpheus and panting, as if a mysterious, impervious force beyond your comprehension forced you to remain completely still.

“Y/N.”

And then, you heard his calm and deep voice reaching your ears, even though the creature in the sphere was still unmoved, silent and displaying little reaction in the form of blinking.

“Morpheus…?” you echoed to clarify, a glimmer of hope rekindling in your heart.

“I am right beside you.”

You shifted your gaze, searching beyond the now frozen guards and noticing the King of Dreams, who stood proudly behind them. He raised his right hand in the air, making the two characters disappear into a trail of sand, as you began to regain full control of your limbs.

Upon returning your sights to the sphere, you discovered it to be completely empty, with the glass slowly melting down and vanishing like smoke.

Gaining awareness, you stood from the floor and met Morpheus's face, which provided you with a complete understanding of what had transpired. "Is this...?”

“It was merely a nightmare,” he responded.

Your first nightmare, accompanied by an exceptional level of uncanniness and fear, despite its strange elements and details.

You slowly advanced to reach him, although you had to confirm that he was not another figment of your imagination, keeping your eyes fixated on his face.

As if to satisfy your qualms regarding his corporeal reality, you gently brushed his covered wrist, perceiving the feeling of the fabric of his sleeves as well as the coolness of his fingers when your skin encountered his hand.

He seized you gently, carefully inspecting your anxiety as you attempted to shake off the remnants of your dream.

“This is really you, right?” You asked him.

“It is me,” he replied, assuaging your apprehension.

Rapidly, you wrapped your arms around his neck, hoisting yourself on the tip of your toes and pressing your body against him. You swaddled him in a constrained, trembling embrace, feeling the warmth of his lips against your shoulder.

“Thank God.”

He silently secured his hands on your lower back, moving his thumbs up and down in a soothing gesture. When you moved apart, you took hold of his fingers once more, looking at him with relief and urgency.

Your previous nightmarish setting gave way to a much more pleasant scenery, one that you had already come to know and appreciate. The soft humming of the waves immediately began to subdue your agitated senses, and looking at the sky above, you had the impression that the suface of the ocean was reflecting in it for how clear it was.

The strength of your grasp around Morpheus's digits intensified when he attempted to extricate his hand from your grip. His surprised stare exuded boundless power, permeating your very essence.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean to.”

As you spoke your thoughts aloud, his eyes softened. With his gentle touch on your cheek, he allowed you to inch closer to his palm, inviting you into a loving caress.

“The nightmares of my realm are but an image of humankind’s fears. Have you been troubled by thoughts of me being captured again?”

You remained quiet, your response being reduced to a simple nod.

You failed to realize how profoundly your compassion was affecting him. The Ruler of Dreams pressed his lips tight in a pout, looking away and watching the horizon. Gradually, he withdrew his hand from you and an ominous premonition arose within you.

You could sense the presence of something that was inherently flawed and discordant. “Morpheus?”

His expression had transitioned into something else. It was now depicting sorrow, as if he were about to deliver the worst news of your life. Yet he had no clue how to break it to you.

“What’s wrong?” You probed farther, puzzled and confused.

A sudden gust of air startled you, encircling you in what felt like a violent blast. And then, his voice was heard again.

“We must talk.”

While your ears picked up the words, your mind interpreted them in a myriad of ways, yet only one conclusion was plausible in your inner thoughts. A mental explosion was triggered, and you envisioned the whole world around you breaking in pieces.

“You are suffocating me, I’m tired of you.”

“This isn’t going anywhere, it is better if we end it.”

The recollections of your past breakups echoed in your head, reviving the pain that you had not been able to annihilate from your heart.

Although you were in the realm of your subconscious, you could feel the blood departing from your face, your soul being drained of its life-force.

You collected all your strength to brace yourself and speak. “Okay.”

The voice inside you murmured encouraging and confident remarks to ease your discomfort, but it was competing with another sound that rang out with immense resonance. It was a chaotic clatter of opposing opinions - one voice claiming that you were about to be abandoned, while another insisted that Morpheus would remain by your side. The conflict between these thoughts tore you apart, flooding you with doubts and uncertainties.

"There are rules that we, as the Endless, must abide by at all costs,” Morpheus expressed. "I myself have disregarded one of these rules.”

On top of your rising heart rate, the atmosphere also underwent a drastic change. The clear and vibrant blue in the sky was replaced by a washed-out and monotonous gray.

You summoned all the courage necessary to put your question into words. “Which rule did you break?”

"A relationship between a mortal and an Endless such as I is prohibited.”

He turned back to face you, and his gaze dug deep into your soul. As his revelation reverberated in your ears, you came to a full realization that your bond with the King of Dreams was a colossal blunder right from the beginning. A bond that you nourished and cherished for so long, nothing but a mistake he was ready to conclude.

Enduring another heartbreak was just too much for you, too difficult to accept once again.

“Oh.” Your legs started to tremble, prompting you to back away. “Wake me up.”

“Y/N-”

"Please, I can't do this. If you want to leave me, then allow me to maintain a bit of dignity. Just this once.”

As you continued to retreat and your nervousness grew greater, Morpheus was visibly baffled, taking note of the sheer impact of his words on your mind and body.

He quickly raised his hand to stop you. “Wait, you misunderstand me,” he proclaimed.

“You’re not going to dump me?”

A small glimpse of reassurance shone through his solemn facade. “Let me explain.”

A ray of hope suddenly appeared, as you were given the option to reconsider and ponder your previous conclusions.

Your arms crossed over your chest to reflect your inner tension. “All right, tell me more.”

As if searching for the most suitable thing to say, Morpheus nodded and directed his eyes towards the ground.

"You are not the first human that I have grown fond of,” he declared. "Ten thousand years ago, I met the queen of the City of Glass, the place where mankind was first born. Her name was Nada.”

Your cognitive processing was suddenly derailed at the unexpected phrase "ten thousand years ago”. Sometimes it was easy to forget how old Morpheus actually was.

“We fell in love. And through our connection, she was doomed to a dire fate.”

You swallowed a mouthful of air. “What happened?”

The King of Dreams continued his tale, revealing the consequences that his intimate relationship with Nada had brought. "Her entire city was utterly eradicated, destroyed by the sun itself.”

A gasp filled with shock and disbelief escaped from you as you covered your mouth.

"The guilt has consumed her. She wanted to end it, to depart from my presence," he proclaimed, his tone filled with melancholy. "I refused to accept her leave.”

A distant rumble of thunder was heard from above, its loud boom breaking the silence and adding to the atmosphere of a looming tragedy.

“My infatuation for her was my punishment,” he stated. "I did not permit her to abandon me, forcefully making her stay by my side. In the end, she flung herself from a cliff, perishing in front of my eyes.”

As Morpheus painted an all-too-clear picture of Nada’s heartbreaking demise, you could feel his pain as if it were your own. The mental image alone was too much for you to bear, causing an immense feeling of misery within your soul.

“It’s horrible.”

His darkened, tormented eyes, reflected the suffering he had been through for millennia, and he attempted to swallow the lump in his throat. The burden still remained, igniting the grief he held after losing a love that was not meant to be.

“I perceived rejection as an offense. I sought for her spirit in the Sunless Lands, making her an offer that I thought she could not refuse.”

You tensed. “What kind of offer?”

“I wished to make her my Queen, Goddess of the Dreaming.”

Knowing that you were not the sole object of Morpheus's affection wounded you in more ways than one. A jolt of jealousy rose inside you as you listened to him speaking of another woman in such a warm-hearted and caring tone. But then, you quickly dismissed the sudden surge of envy that overcame you, realizing that you were getting mad over a person who was no longer among the living.

You cleared your throat. “And…?”

“She declined my proposition, again. As a result, I condemned her to hell.”

“You sent her soul… to hell…?”

As you looked deeply into Morpheus's eyes, you could see the anger behind their dim light. You remembered the words of Teleute, who had alluded to Morpheus and his darker side in past centuries.

“Why are you telling me all this?”

Your expression and emotion were both subjects of his intense observation, which he was using to gauge how you were perceiving the choices he had made.

“I will not commit the same mistake,” he replied.

“So that’s what I am to you? A mistake?”

The frequency of thunderclaps dramatically escalated, while gusts of wind increased in force. It remained uncertain whether the altered surroundings in the realm of dreams were mirroring your own turmoil or Morpheus’ state of mind.

"No, I am. Retaining you by my side would be unacceptable given the risks I am subjecting you to.”

You contemplated the given explanation, trying to recall a moment, any moment, when you had felt unsafe in his proximity. The sole emotion you felt around him was security.

“I am willing to offer you the opportunity to decide what is most favorable for you.”

“Why?”

"Because… I do not want to hurt you.”

The grimace distorting his facial traits felt akin to a gut punch. You thought over what he had revealed, and the fact that he had sent his raven to monitor your condition for a reason that had been completely unknown until now.

“Matthew,” you realized. “That’s why you sent him to the Waking World. You were worried about me. Because of this.”

“I was.”

Warmth and joy replaced your negative emotions, swelling into your chest and compassing your beating heart with tranquillity. You reached forward, placing your palm on his chest and offering him a gentle smile. "Morpheus, I don't need to decide. I am exactly where I want to be, and this is not going to change.”

Your statement caused the Endless to look dazed and bewildered once more. He was stunned, appearing as someone who anticipated a different end result.

“Did you not listen to me? About what I have done?” he queried.

“No no, I did. You were perfectly clear.”

“Then why?”

You sighed. "Look, I won't lie to you. Your reaction to Nada was a little too extreme, and sending her to hell as a form of revenge for her rejection was rather petty and undoubtedly a wrong move.”

He lowered his eyes downward, attentively listening to you like a scolded pup.

"But I can at least understand the reasoning behind it. You didn't make that decision because you were evil. You did it because you were heartbroken.”

Anyone would tell you that you were insane, that similar behavior would amount to a toxic relationship. And yet, you couldn’t stop thinking of Morpheus as an ethereal entity that was still striving to learn.

He tensed up, yearning for your closeness as you kept moving your hands along his chest and shoulders.

"I can see how much this still weighs on you even after all these millenia. You are always observing, changing. I just know that if you could go back in time, you would do everything differently.”

He shut his eyelids. “You are not safe with me.”

“Yes I am.”

“You should fear me. Despise me.”

“And why is that?”

“They all do.”

“They are all wrong.”

“I am far more terrible than you believe me to be.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

A moment of calm ensued between the two of you. Morpheus's gaze was stern and forceful, though at some point, his inscrutable visage waned, and an impish grin appeared on his lips. You mimicked him, smiling broadly and trading a glimpse of mutual understanding.

"You are quite determined," he stated to you.

Giggling, you leaned your forehead against his, while the wind quieted down and the sky reopened, bringing back its clarity and vivid colors.

"I just don’t see how anything bad could happen to me, when I feel like it is the exact opposite," you said. "Morpheus, my father was going to die, and my life was so miserable that I gave everything up. I had nothing. I was afraid of the unknown and went into hiding, working like a robot for money. But then you came into my life, and for the first time, everything started to change for the better.”

His eyes were so intense that you nearly lost your footing before their magnificence.

So beautiful…

“Today I got a call from an old friend of mine. She wants to hire me, you know? Not for just any job, but for the one I have always dreamed of.”

He deliberated on the matter, moving his eyes from side to side as he pondered on your words.

"Why do I feel blessed, if it's true that being with you means I am bound to an existence of tragedy and misfortune?”

He held his gaze at the far-off scenery, furrowing his brows with contemplation. You patiently waited, listening to the now calmer waves in your vicinity.

"There is a possible justification for that," he eventually said. “Lucienne conducted research on you at my request.”

Taking a step back to scrutinize him, you allow him to proceed with his explanation.

“It would seem that your lineage is directly associated with Paregoros.”

You endeavored to fathom it, but it was a name that you had not heard of, or read about anywhere.

“Excuse my ignorance, but… who would that be?”

“She is the personified spirit of consolation, comfort and soothing words. A companion of Aphrodite, Goddess of love, and Peitho, the Goddess of persuasion.”

Despite the many books about Greek mythology you had come across, you couldn’t recollect any significant information regarding this particular figure.

“And I am related to her? What does that make me?”

“You are mortal. But you seem to possess certain qualities of her, which perhaps will spare you the cruel fate that is otherwise customary for any human I dare to come close to.”

People had conveyed to you that your magnanimity would become your undoing, as being empathetic would be inevitably overlooked as a virtue, but rather perceived as something to exploit. Could it be that your goodness truly derived from an ancient deity you descended from? Did your compassion and kindness towards Morpheus make you immune to the unjust and absurd godly rule that once condemned the one he loved?

Regardless of your background or how you were related to Paregoros, being with Morpheus was the best thing that could have ever happened to you.

"Come what may, I have made my choice.”

Morpheus was about to respond, but his mouth sealed without uttering a sound and his hands fell to his side.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Y/N, not even I can guarantee the truthfulness of what could be nothing but a theory.”

You grasped the edges of his coat and inched yourself closer, brushing your mouth against his. Despite his concerns, Morpheus didn’t display any reluctance, reciprocating the kiss and relaxing in your embrace.

“When my intuition speaks, it is seldom incorrect,” you explained. “I may be only human, but will you trust me on this?”

He refrained from saying anything else, knowing that protesting wouldn't really work with you. Instead, he declared his assertion with another soft kiss on your lips, savoring their taste and breathing on your skin.

Finally, Morpheus relinquished the conversation.

"I wish you could see yourself the way I see you," you claimed. "You don't realize the effect that you have on me.”

A small grin sprang up on the corner of his lips. “And how do you behold me, my love?”

You deliberated about how to express it, and the sole thing that came to your mind was something overwhelmingly inappropriate. Nevertheless, you were still within The Dreaming, standing with Morpheus in a domain that was merely for you and nobody else. Was it truly that heinous for you to show him your affection in the way that you had envisioned? The more you pondered about it, the fewer reservations you had on that regard. It was something that you never particularly liked to get into with your past lovers, but the fact that you felt so strongly about it now simply proved that Morpheus was of utmost importance in comparison.

And thus, you provided permission for yourself to proceed.

As the heat rose and crawled up your cheeks, you allowed your hands to glide over his torso while following them all the way down, gradually kneeling upon the sand with your knees.

"What are you doing?" he asked, tracking your movements with a slight raise of his eyebrow.

“I am kneeling for my King,” you answered. “I want to show you just how much you mean to me.”

A part of you still felt uncertain, but when you caught sight of the familiar sparkle in his gaze, you no longer needed to question yourself.

The sand was incredibly soft and comfortable, providing you with its delicate and glittering particles. You laid your palms onto his stomach and held them there for a moment, moving them up and down as you pulled up his shirt simultaneously. As his pallid skin emerged from under the black material, you took note once again of his lean yet clearly defined muscles.

You moved slowly, placing gentle and delicate kisses on his abdomen, making your way towards his navel. You felt him twitching beneath your touch, but he didn't push you away.

You looked up a few times and noticed that he was completely absorbed in the moment, breathing faster and focusing solely on you. You continued with the same ministrations until you felt prepared to move things ahead, bringing your hands to his thighs to offer calming caresses through the fabric of his trousers.

You took your time, and Morpheus didn’t complain. You stayed there in silence, sliding your fingers in a repetitive motion while listening to the ambient sounds generated by the Dream World. Everything felt so real that for a moment, you wondered if you were truly asleep.

You glided your hands around, and the unmistakable bulge in the front of his pants let you know that he was getting ready for more. Your fingers quivered slightly as you loosened the button and pushed the zipper down, and it was as if the progression of time had decelerated now that there was nothing left between you and your ultimate destination.

Tentatively, you searched his clothes and felt the tips of your fingers graze his forming erection. You took a deep breath and slowly, gently, released the appendage from its confinement, setting it free in the open air. Morpheus grunted inaudibly, holding his ground and repeatedly clenching his fists.

You looked upon his hardened member, already standing proudly in front of you and beckoning for your attention. You began to move your hand over the base, gradually bringing it up until the crown was fully covered and engulfed in your palm. Then, you slowly moved your hand back down, enstablishing a steady pumping rhythm. You repeated the process a few more times before finally picking up the pace, alternating between tight strokes and gentle massages that heightened the warmness and size against your skin.

When you halted your activities, you looked up at his face for a confirmation. You spotted his pink, parted lips, and a pair of blue eyes that shimmered like stars in broad daylight. Even though he remained in complete silence, his unspoken request was loud and clear. “Give me more.”

You inhaled deeply, setting your dominant hand around the base and bringing your lips closer to his glistening tip. You let your tongue explore its surface, dancing around the glans and tracing a wet path down to the taut underside. You felt it throb and pulse as you held it firmly between your fingers, urging you to continue. You wanted to grant him the apex of whatever you were capable of giving, knowing that even that would never be enough to repay him for what he was bestowing to you. Every kiss, every sensual swipe of your tongue, and every caress that you were delivering was purely for his physical satisfaction. Meanwhile, the sense of completion that you were receiving from him was permeating every minute of your day and night, even in his absence.

Once you were satisfied with the preliminaries, you finally closed your lips around the head and adjusted your position. As you placed your other hand over his stomach, you made sure that the shirt would not get in the way. You continued with the stroking motions all over his length, while tenderly suckling at the top with sweet abandon.

You could feel his fingers intertwining with the back of your hair, his nails scratching your nape deliciously. He didn't try to draw you closer or push his hips forward. Although you could tell that he was gradually beginning to feel impatient, you relished how he enticed you, encouraging you to proceed even further.

And so, you did just that, moving your head downward and taking more of him into your mouth. You relaxed your palate and throat to invite his girth as deep as you could, hollowing your cheeks whenever you slid up, and then lowered again. His grip around your hair tightened considerably, but he didn't hurt you. On the contrary, he was following your head's movements with enthusiasm and appreciation.

You hummed softly around him, breathing through your nose. You massaged the part that you couldn't reach, causing his legs to quiver and become rigid. His abdominal muscles tightened under your palm, twitching whenever you drew little circles upon them with your fingertips. You suckled harder, allowing his tip to touch the back of your throat and moving your knees closer to his body for a better angle.

The occasional eye contact, along with the way he refrained himself from choking you in the process, was making you absolutely feral. But at the same time, it was so unbelievably tender that you wished to continue the activity for hours. No other man had demonstrated such decency towards you.

The magnificent landscape surrounding you combined with the tranquil music played by the ocean, made even that appear as something wonderfully romantic. Morpheus' groans were low and deep, almost fully concealed by the waves running back and forth along the shore.

Considering how his length tensed up and pulsed, you could tell that he was getting close to his awaited release. You pulled his member out when your lips started to hurt from the exertion, lingering on his tip once more with gentle kitten licks and loving pecks. As you let your tongue explore other areas, you noticed how increasingly sensitive he seemed to be the moment you stimulated his frenulum, lavishing it with love and consideration with each fiery kiss you granted him.

You were loving every second of it in a way that you couldn’t adequately describe.

When you took him back in, you carefully increased the pace and applied more pressure to your cheeks. Morpheus was about to tumble over the edge, muttering your name and receiving an affirmative hum from you in response. You were relentless, moving your hands in perfect sync with your mouth, letting him shake and stiffen without withdrawing.

The earth below roared and quavered when his orgasm made its way from his core and through his entire being. His hips jerked a few times and he struggled to keep himself upright, yet his feet remained perfectly planted on the ground. You continued to bob your head up and down, feeling every single aftershock that forced him to throw his head back in utter ecstasy. You wanted to take all he had to give.

You could barely let him go with a sweet wet pop and fix his trousers, as he immediately reached down to take your arms and effortlessly lift you up. His mouth was on yours before you could properly stand, devouring your lips and pressing you to his chest. You didn't waste any time, engulfing his neck between your arms and losing yourself in the kiss.

As soon as you caught your breath, you inquired,"Was that too bold?”

Morpheus was amused, unable to contain his mischief and satisfaction. “I must confess, I fid this side of you intriguing.”

You chuckled while capturing his fingers with your own, his remark causing you to exude a tinge of blush and boosting your self-confidence. It was as if the previous conversation never actually happened, and the two of you proceeded along the coast a moment later.

You moved in tranquil quiet with him, staring at the moist grains of sand that dissolved below your feet. You didn't know when you discarded your footwear, nor how your outfit had switched from your mundane jeans and sweater to a bohemian dress you were incapable of recognizing.

The water was reaching your ankles now, the coolness of the waves greeting your skin and drenching the bottom of your clothing, but Morpheus didn't seem to mind.

“There’s something I meant to ask you,” you said, advancing and moving further towards the ocean, attracted by the crystal clear surface in front of you.

“What is it that you wish to know?”

“It’s about my father. Or rather, his unnatural fast recovering. Does it have anything to do with you?”

Your hand partially slipped free from his grasp as you sinked more into the water, but the physical connection was kept intact with his thumb stroking your knuckles.

“I did not cure him, if that is what you are asking me. Being in the presence of an Endless can affect a mortal’s health and provide longevity. So perhaps, your connection to me has also influenced him.”

You considered the information he offered for a few moments. “Is that possible?”

“It can be.”

The medication that Doctor Mills had prescribed was meant to exhibit its effects within some period of time. However, after less than three days of its usage, your father was so full of energy that you witnessed him dancing in the living room, much to everyone’s disbelief. At that time, you had been spending many of your leisure moments in the basement with Morpheus. Could it be true that his presence had an impact on your father in an roundabout way, speeding up his otherwise gradual recovery, assuming there would be one?

You weren't exaggerating in the slightest when you asserted that Morpheus was bringing nothing but benefits into your life.

You smiled, allowing the seawater to reach your waist. As you took a backward step, you descended deeper into the ocean. It felt chilly, but invigorating, just like the ones you immersed yourself in the Waking World.

Morpheus stood on the seashore, his polished shoes and the edges of his pants absorbing the waves. He looked at you curiously, observing the way your wet dress adhered to your figure.

"Come on," you urged him. "Why don't you join me?”

He released a quiet chuckle, moving forward with a couple of short strides. His lengthy coat fluttered on the surface of the water, following his movements and widening like a voluminous cape. You gently caressed his cheeks with both of your soaked and chilled hands, leaving little droplets all over his face. You then briefly pressed your lips onto his, reveling in the sensation of him wrapping his arms around your back and pulling you downwards.

You slowly plunged into the depths of the ocean, as the two of you descended deeper into its underwater domain. You could still breathe through your nostrils and lungs, taking in the beautiful sights of colorful corals and mysterious marine creatures swimming up close to you. His hair wafted in unison with yours, and both your coat and dress perceptibly prolonged and expanded in a swirl of fabric.

The ambient noises were faint and muffled, yet the moment was so enchanting that you felt like a princess living an actual fairytale.

Your eyelids grew more and more weary, and you felt as if you were about to be engulfed in an effulgent radiance emanating from underneath. Morpheus brushed a sizable portion of hair off the side of your neck with his fingers, bringing his mouth close to your ear, and then blowing softly in it. A slew of bubbles emerged from his mouth, tickling your face and fluctuating above you.

His voice reverberated through your brain, echoing all around and rattling the seaweed, which cleared a path for both of you to advance.

“This dream is over.”

Prior to meeting Ella at Corbyn&Jones, you selected your most businesslike outfit and crafted the best resume you were capable of writing. Even though she wasn't obliged to peruse through your former employment backgrounds, you wanted to maintain a formal image in the viewpoint of the CEO and other members of the company.

You composed a quick response on your phone to Hob's message, sent with the purpose of offering encouragement and wishing you good luck for the interview.

The building wasn't especially far away, therefore, you boarded the subterranean railway for a few stops before leaving it and continuing on foot. The weather was once again more agreeable than you could hope for, with a sun that wasn't too scorching for the time of the year, and a soft breeze that gently brushed against your body on your march.

You proceeded through several avenues, cutting through a garden and wandering beneath the trees. As soon as you spotted the structure in the distance, you retrieved your phone from your bag and opened a new conversation with Ella’s number. Your heartbeat was already quickening, partly because of the anticipation and eagerness, partly due to your usual anxiety that regularly crept inside you.

You froze, pausing the typing process the moment you detected a substantial shift in your surroundings. The sky grew extremely dark all of a sudden, and the vegetation seemed to get lost behind a thick layer of mist. It was as if you were teleported to a distinctly different area, the atmosphere was becoming heavy and you could even hear someone calling your name.

It was a combination of three different female voices blaring in the air and originating from all directions. You had to reassure yourself by counting your fingers and pinching your cheek to confirm that you didn't find yourself in the middle of yet another nightmare. You turned around to listen to the reverberations, hastening your breathing and taking a step in the back direction. As you once again turned to face the front, you were shocked to see three women with varying ages in front of you, each of them attired in dark garments and having their hair blowing in the elevated and much cooler air.

"Who are you?" You inquired, directing your gaze from one woman to another.

“Questions, questions,” said the one in the middle.

“We are the Fates, dear,” the younger lady responded.

“Or ‘The Kindly Ones’, if you may,” stated the eldest of the three.

You counted upon Morpheus to intrude on your slumber and disrupt the vision, yet at the same time, you were certain that you were awake and not in his realm.

“What do you want from me?” You were astonished to hear your own voice echoing so strongly, as if you were conversing in an empty broad domain.

The younger woman approached, she was incredibly beautiful, yet in her bearing, there existed something tremendously suspicious. “Poor Y/N, so naive and lost.”

“I’m not lost.”

“Yes you are, my child,” the middle woman spoke again, taking a step forward. “We came to warn you, little one.”

You sensed the impatience escalating, since your primary concern was to arrive at the firm on time.

“Look, no offence kind ladies, but I’ve got business to do right now.”

“Oh, but you shall want to listen,” the elder woman interjected. “It is Lord Morpheus that you must exercise caution with.”

You detected a chill coursing through your veins. “Morpheus…?”

They all smiled at the same moment, and in a way, it was profoundly horrifying.

“A father and a husband once, all is gone owing to his very deeds.”

A father…. and a husband…

A shudder traversed your spine as soon as you heard that statement.

The younger lady inclined her head. "My darling, how many truths is Dream concealing from you?”

You were confused regarding their plans, yet it was transparent that Morpheus was not regarded favorably by them.

“With all due respect, whatever he chooses to talk about or refrain from discussing with me is not your concern by any means,” you uttered curtly.

“Foolish child,” the oldest woman's voice boomed with such force that a surge of energy erupted from her, forcing you to falter. “Trust has a flimsy string.”

Your perplexity was escalating further. “What is it that you’re trying to say? I don’t have time for your riddles.”

The beautiful woman intervened once more. “Calliope was deprived of her dear offspring because of him.”

He was married to Calliope, the Muse and daughter of Zeus?

“The boy-child, Orpheus, went to Hades for his lady-love,” claimed the oldest Fate. “He was torn apart for his sacrilege. Yet, this is an old tale that you know very well, little one.”

You reflected upon the story of the legendary musician and poet, presented in a variety of ways through the pages of novels containing ancient Greek myths. You failed to comprehend how Morpheus could be held accountable for that occurrence, if any of those stories portrayed the truth.

“Morpheus holding secrets about his past is not a reason for me to lose trust.”

"Oneiros shall deceive you, Y/N," stated the younger Fate. "After all, he betrayed his own son and former wife, once.”

You pressed your lips together, sensing a rising uneasiness rushing up from your stomach and permeating your body.

“You don’t even know me. Why do you care so much about my relationship with Dream?”

The Fate in the center parted her lips into a broad smile. “Oh, we do know you, love. For you are the daughter of your mother.”

You felt the blood inside your veins turn icy cold. “My…mother…? What-”

“She does not know yet, sister-self.”

The enigmatic statements of the three women were starting to become more and more irritating. They spoke to you as if they had already mapped out your future and as if they knew more about you than you knew yourself.

You were trying to convey a part of your thought process in your response, but a sudden ringing of a bicycle bell startled you. A random guy pedaled swiftly past you, and upon glancing back at the location in which the trio of ladies stood, they had completely disappeared.

The dark atmosphere and the shadows were non-existent now, everything seemed to be back to normal, as if those events had never actually happened. When you glanced down at your device, your unsent message was right there on the display, and the clock on the screen exhibited the exact same time as before. The few minutes you spent in the company of the Fates, regardless of how real or hallucinatory they might have been, evidently took place in a separate dimension or they managed to pause the flow of time.

"What in the world was that?”

You felt puzzled, uncertain, with countless thoughts creating an uproar in your mind. Even so, there were other mattered that required your focus now, and you did not intend to be tardy for what could be a once-in-a-lifetime career-oriented breakthrough.

You typed the remainder of your message and sent it, resuming your walk toward the structure with a strange feeling deep in your heart.

Morpheus was once married to a Muse, and together they had a son.

Eventually, they were both lost, by one means or another.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 10 ->

Read on AO3!

#the sandman #dream of the endless #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #the sandman fanfic #smut

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inkyanimatronic-afterdark · 7 months

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Hi. Since my whump account is gone this is basically both my after dark blog and my whump blog now.

Anyway, got some swamp monster whumper prompts and imagines below the cut. And no. They definitely aren’t with Monty Gator in mind 👀. Don’t be silly!

Mostly pet whump.

Swamp Monster finding you, his new human pet:

- Imagine being out in the swamps when you step into a bear trap. You’re hurt and alone. Then a friendly voice speaks out to you. Cooing you like a hurt little animal.

Even though he was the reason for the traps.

Originally he set them up to eat you when he didn’t feel like hunting himself. But you were just adorable!! Such a cute little human!

You heard someone get out of the water nearby and your eyes widened when a large alligator beast stepped out of it. He was huge! At least twice your size if not bigger!

He offers to help get it off and take you home to clean your injury. Not realizing that his home was now your forever home. He was never going to let you go. You were his pet now. When he got bored with you, he’ll just eat you.

- OR!! Straight up predator/prey. He hunts you down and laughs at your pathetic attempts to hide from him.

Perhaps he’ll let you loose and hunt you again. It’ll give you some exercise that simple walkies couldn’t do.

When he finally catches you, he wraps his big arms around you to pull you up into his grasp. Carrying you off like a stray puppy to his home. Cooing at you the whole way.

Life with Monster whumper:

- Collar time! Once your injury (if any) are taken care of, he places a nice collar tightly around your neck. Mentioning to get a tag once he decides on a name for you!

- He leashes you when outside the house for walks or to tie you up outside for a while. You were miles away from civilization so no one can hear you scream anyway. Still, that doesn’t stop him from warning you to stop barking. Or he’ll put a bark collar on you instead.

- Trains you and gives you little treats as a reward for doing tricks!

- Maybe he doesn’t speak your language so you have to learn his language. Even just a few words like sit, stay, beg, and go to your cage. He could have those pet buttons set up with other things like treat, food, walkies, and playtime!

- He treats you like a dog and plays fetch with you. Always ruffling your hair and telling you good girl/boy/dog.

- Maybe he has monster friends that come over to see his cute new pet! He tells them how he found you injured and took pity on you instead of just eating you up! “Watch them do the cutest tricks for me!”

Escape attempts:

- You try to escape but can never get away from his sharp hearing and enhanced senses. Of course he has to punish you for it.

- Sometimes he beats you, or he just puts you in your cage. Maybe even ties you outside and has you sleep on the patio.

- He is constantly dehumanizing you and trying to condition you to be his pet.

If I think of more and I’ll reblog the post.

#Pet whump #swamp monster whumper #monster whumper #human whumpee

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starcrossedjedis · 1 year

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I told you, I'd probably end up compiling a list of my favourite original WIPs and make my problem your problem x'D

No, but it's actually nice to see that out of all my ideas (so, so many ideas on this cursed Google Drive) there are indeed some that are dearer to my heart than others.

As per usual, feel free to let me know which one intrigues you the most (and whatever else you might wanna tell me or ask me about these, don't ever be shy about popping up in my askbox <3)

All her life Eleanor has looked over the river at the bright, shimmering lights of King’s Island; wondering what it would be like to be part of the elite - never worry about the future, never want for anything… There’s always been this whole different world just a short boat ride away, but for someone like Eleanor it might as well have been on another planet.

King’s Island is for royalty, for diplomats and for the filthy rich. Eleanor has been born on the wrong side of the river and she has no reason to doubt that this is where she’s going to die some day.

That is until one day she receives a letter bearing the Royal Seal. A letter that will change her life forever…

“No one was supposed to find our ritual site. Hell, we even cloaked our path. We took every precaution in the book to keep tourists and townies from waltzing in on our dance and exposing our existence to the world. And yet... Here we are. Here you are. I do believe something about Salem has been calling you, Liliana Cooper, but I don’t think it’s a post grad in Women’s Studies…”

There are days when Alice Hawkins feels like suffocating from the lies that dictate her life.

While her father risks much more than just his position as head of a private paramilitary organisation by covering up her healing abilities, she jeopardizes everything by hiding four strangers with special abilities from that exact same organization.

With the whole world against them all they have is each other, but will a dark secret from her troubled past as a spoiled corporate princess ultimately leave Alice cast out of both worlds…?

Athena has been Odysseus’ patron goddess for most of his life, always intervening when he is in danger, always ensuring the cunning young man comes out on top. Yet she has never fully revealed herself to him - only ever guiding him through visions; whispers from beyond the veil that separates her from the mortal realm.

But it’s always been a universal truth that the Olympians envy the human life and desire a taste of the passion and urgency that comes with mortality.

When Athena witnesses Odysseus spare the life of Hector’s infant son, an act so merciful and tender and against everything she’s taught him over the years, she cannot fight this curiosity any longer.

Like countless Gods and Goddesses before her, she takes a leave from her duties on Mount Olympus and joins the young king on his journey to Ithaca under the guise of a Trojan girl named Thea…

When Calleigh Mackinnon unexpectedly inherits her father’s cattle ranch “Miller’s End”, all she wants is to get rid of it as soon as possible. But when she goes there for her father’s funeral, she finds that he has left her a letter, telling his daughter that in order to get full access to her inheritance she has to spend one year on the farm.

Can a year spent with the people closest to her father - and charming foreman Alex - change Calleigh’s feelings for the land she grew up resenting? Where will her heart lead when this year is over?

Prince Damian has been betrothed to Princess Melayna ever since they both were children, growing up together at her court following the assassination of Damian’s parents.

But when he travels to her kingdom years later to finally take her as his wife, he falls in love with Selena; the heiress to the Travelling Court who is serving as a Lady in his betrothed’s court…

tagged:@acabecca @akabluekat @asirensrage @bravelittleflower @curious-kittens-ocs @darknightfrombeyond @darkwolf76 @drbobbimorse @eddiemunscns @elmunson @emilykaldwen @far-shores @fcundwitch @foxesandmagic @fragilestorm @harleyquinnzelz @if-you-onlyknew @katiekinswrites @kingsmakers @mabonetsamhain @margoshansons @mystic-scripture @ocappreciationtag @sgtbuckyybarnes @stachedocs @susiesamurai @victoriapedrcttis

#my ocs #nanowrimo #writeblr #writer's block #welcome to my midlife crisis #stay tuned to find out if Imma buy a sports car to numb the pain

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syrena-del-mar · 8 months

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People I wanna know better tag meme

Tagged by the lovely @lurkingshan!

Last Song?

In the middle of studying, so I've had Hozier on replay. This is the currently the song that is playing at the moment.

Favorite Color?

At the moment I've been buying everything forest green, so I guess that would be my favorite color as of now!

Currently Watching?

Weekly Watching: The Last Twilight, Twins (recently finished), The Sign, Dead Friend Forever, Pit Babe, Percy Jackson

Mindless Watching/Listening: Theresa, Rebelde. So I like always having something on while I drive, since I usually am on the road about 3-4 hours a day so I've been nostalgic and listening to novelas that I grew up with.

Last Movie?

It's been some time since I watched a movie, probably since early December, but it was Dime Cuando. You can find it on Netflix under Tell Me When. It's a light-hearted comedy about getting back to your roots, but it honestly feels like a love-letter to Mexico City.

Sweet/Spicy/Savory?

For meals, I prefer spicy, but I can tolerate a whole lot more Mexican spice (habaneros, etc.) than Asian Spiciness. And along with the spiciness, I love the saltiness/lime of Mexican cuisine.

I am known to have a sweet-tooth, so for snacks/candy I'll still choose salty and spicy. But I really enjoy sweet breads; no chocolate for me though.

Relationship status?

Chronically single. Last relationship was in my very early 20s and I've just thrown myself in my work and education, so I've had not time for anything else.

Current obsessions?

Anything you've seen reblogged, but I guess out of all the shows I've watched...KinnPorsche? Between Us? Those have stuck with me for some time now.

Last thing you googled?

"How to overlay a gif on a gif using Photoshop 2023?" I haven't used Photoshop since 2016/2017, and the version I was accustomed to using was Photoshop cs5. Let's just say that there's a learning curve. Selfie or another pic you took?

This is Samantha Jane. I accidentally adopted her from a patient on Halloween of 2020. All I had been told was that she was a beagle and 13 years old, so imagine my surprise I see she’s very much not a beagle. Her original owners had the adoption papers of when she was in the pound as a puppy and she had been listed as a Doberman. So I always say that I was both tricked and treated that Halloween. Tagging @sunshinechay, @a-slut-for-vegaspete, @bokkiesplace, @shannankle, and @waitmyturtles.

#tag game #about me #idk what else to put in the tags

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xxsycamore · 2 years

Note

I’m dumb, I’m sorry!!! On my Theo/Isaac request, it was meant to be with a female reader/MC. Sorry for the confusion. Thank you again!!!

catherinec35 asked: May I please request Ikemen Vampire’s Isaac and Theo for prompt # 28 (both), with dialog # 30 please? I kind of see it as the wishful thinking 3rd ending to the 12 Flavors of Love event they did forever ago, if you have trouble with a starting point. Thank you so much!!

Thank you for this wonderful idea and for providing with screenshots in your original ask! ❤ I can't tell you enough how much fun I had with this request - to the point where the pre-smut part got quite long, haha! This event really was forever ago but thank god it's available on youtube so I could refresh my memory. For those of you that aren't familiar with the event - you can still read the fic just fine <3 Thank you for requesting and I'm sorry that it took me so long to finish it! I hope you enjoy ❤

—𝘚𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯!

► SYNOPSIS:

An unfortunate turn of events sees Isaac and Theo under the influence of aphrodisiac, pining for MC. They decide to settle it with a cook off. And MC wishes they'd settle it in the most straightforward way possible, instead.

▍theo x mc x isaac

▍rating: E

▍tags: Threesome - F/M/M; Aphrodisiacs; Rivalry; Bad Cooking; Some Humor; Biting; Marking; Blood Drinking; Vampire Bites; Vaginal Fingering; Spitroasting; Blow Jobs; Vaginal Sex; Dirty Talk; Praise Kink; Kissing; Making Out; Double Penetration in One Hole; Creampie; Comeplay; Come Sharing; Come Eating; Aftercare; Post-Coital Cuddling; i'm leaving it to you to decide whether they're dating or not

▍wordcount: 2,113

▍masterlist

Written as a part of VISIONS OF TEMPTATION 2021 hosted by me here.

event masterlist

DAY 28 - Spitroasting | Double penetration + “Why don’t you two settle it with a competition and I can be the judge?”

"Oh, that's right! Why don't you two settle it with a competition and I can be the judge?"

MC's eyes dart between Isaac and Theo, a rush of hope moving through her that the idea could actually save her in this situation. The situation being, having both Isaac and Theodorus under the influence of a strong aphrodisiac that was accidentally mixed in their blanc. She's had better days.

Thank God, there are angels like Vincent around when she needs it the most. The blond easily finds a solution to keep the two occupied until the aphrodisiac wears off - by suggesting they do a cook off, to see who makes the best dessert for MC.

As soon as he sees his idea flourishing in MC's favor, Vincent gives her the thumbs-up and sees himself out of the room. MC would come to regret letting him do, or at least that's what her gut feeling is telling her.

Her gut is also telling her that at least one good thing will come out of this competition, as she feels genuine excitement to see - and taste - what they come up with.

The task at hand makes a good job of keeping them occupied and MC can have a breather, with only few occasional handsy acts that she swiftly escapes from, protesting that they'd get flour all over her. It ends with her picked up and placed by Theo on the kitchen counter so she can "observe them better" and MC comes to terms with that, just for the time being…

The truth is, she would gladly get as straightforward with this as possible. They're horny. A serious competition in this state is only going to make them suffer more. And why suffer? When they can all shake their hands and fall in bed together and-

Maybe she is horny, too.

But also, well, maybe there is some comedic value to watching them do what they do. It's not everyday that she sees these two keeping themselves busy in the kitchen. A little more, yes, a little more of that won't hurt anybody. Hopefully.

Soon enough, it becomes taste-testing time. Isaac helps her off the counter (despite her assuring him that she doesn't need help with that) and pulls out a chair for her to sit. She complies quietly, all too busy eyeing the two plates in front of her. An apple pie and a pile of fluffy pancakes, their respective makers very, very easily able to tell apart.

"What are you waiting for, Hondje? Dig in."

Theo's trademark impatience plus bossiness is watered down this time by a softer tone, alluring her to cease making him wait any longer. At her other side, however, Isaac clicks his tongue as an announcement of his own patience having just snapped, as he forks a piece of his pie and lifts it towards MC's mouth. He holds her chin in place, gently.

"H-here, let me do it for you, if you're going to make me wait any longer!"

As he catches her in a gasp, the fork easily finds its way into her mouth. There is no room for scolding, because her mouth explodes with the rich flavor of the pie. A perfect crust, a soft sweet center… no, that's not it. It's simply not sweet at all. The taste is…very interesting. Not exactly salty, not the consistency she'd expect… an enigma of an apple pie. She recalls him making strict calculations of the ingredients earlier, putting in some thermal techniques that are simply ahead of their time. Their time as in, right here, 19th century Paris, but maybe, also, ahead of the 21st century culinary as well… Poor Isaac must understand that cooking is not entirely a science.

"Ah-ah! If he can do that, so can I. Open up, Hondje."

Without having time to react to the full 180-degree turn, another fork is lifted towards her mouth, and she tries eyeing Theo angrily so he can get the hint that doing that would do him no good for the competition. How is she going to judge the two deserts justly if she has them both in her mouth at the same time? This damned aphrodisiac, she swears, it has melted their brains away.

The soft, fluffy pancake adds to the flavor in her mouth, catching her closing her eyes for a second so she can savor the taste better. Similarly to Isaac's creation, it tricks her into thinking it's good at first. It lasts even less this time. Theo's sugary delight knocks out the lack of sweetness in Isaac's pie, but it does so drastically. While chewing she throws a look at the counter. The syrup bottle is half empty and she only restocked it this morning. Of course Theo drowned the pancakes in sweetness as per his own sick preferences. She should've known…

This is getting harder and harder.

After taking two or three more torturous bites of each, on their own this time and with quick cleansings of her palate inbetween, she starts to feel like a professional degustator, all eyes on her.

It's not a matter of who is better anymore. It's a matter of who is less disastrous.

Slamming her fists on the table, she lifts her head to meet their gazes and declares…

"Both! Both are good. I can't decide. It's a tie."

Shoving her face into her hands as if to hide from their gazes, MC prays they don't start arguing again. Anything but that, please, please…

"Now what, Hondje? Do we have another competition?"

He says it sarcastically, but to both their surprise Isaac steps in, catching her wrists as to make her stop hiding her face away. MC looks into his eyes that are almost pleading for her, painfully so.

"Theo, I think it's only fair we choose the competition this time."

"Hoh? That's more like it. Are you thinking the same thing as me?"

MC gulps down, gaze shifting between the two men as they smile in unison.

"Let's see which one pleasures you better in bed."

I hope Vincent doesn't ask what happened, MC thinks as she lets herself being walked backwards into bed and then put on top of the sheets. The man above her never ceases the kiss, even for a second, as layers after layers of clothing are being peeled of her.

A second after the sound of the door locking from the inside is heard, the other man joins in bed as well.

MC manages to prop herself to a sitting position despite Isaac trying to pin her down, and in that time, Theo crawls on the bed right behind her. She can feel his naked chest as her own upper half get completely stripped, and she gasps when Theo latches his mouth into her neck. He is not breaking the skin with his fangs, not yet, but MC can hear his muted needy moans.

She reaches one hand around, to wrap around Theo and urge him further, petting his head while at it.

"C'mon Theo, what are you waiting for? Take a bite."

Mimicking his bossy tone from earlier in the kitchen, MC's cunning little smile soon disappears from her lips as Theo's fangs pierce her. Pleasure start hitting her in waves, resembling a stormy ocean akin to the one in Theo's blue eyes. It's maddening.

"Y-you too, Isaac."

Extending a hand, she welcomes in her embrace the man who stood up to get rid of his clothes more effectively. In the next second, he already nips on her neck, aiming for the opposite side of where Theo still fervently sucks.

Instead of gripping the sheets - as seeing that this doesn't provide any grounding relief for the building pleasure - MC instead takes a hand from each, nails digging in them as she guides, in an attempt to make them touch her.

They don't need another push, as one's fingers quickly find her swollen clit to rub, another's prodding at her leaking opening. They work her to a fast approaching orgasm, getting her cum all over their hands on the spot as they share and snack on her blood in the meantime.

She finds herself flipped over on her belly, trembling hands and knees supported by the two as they manhandle her in the position they desire.

Although the decision who gets her mouth and who gets her pussy isn't an easy one, Theo throws in a comment of how he prefers her mouth anyway because of how well he's trained it to take his cock. MC's cheek flush red, despite the already sinful situation she's got herself in, being exposed as his little well-trained slut is embarrassing on a whole new level…

"Oh well? You have no idea just how much MC loves when I full her up with my cum…"

If Theo's words had painted her face red, then Isaac's see her paling like a ghost. He also supports his statement by thrusting his cock to the hilt inside her in a single smooth thrust.

"Ah!"

MC falls into ecstasy and with that also inlove with how things play out. She receives Isaac's delicious hot, pulsating length inside her soon enough before she resorts to begging, and thankfully without having to step in as a mediator about who should get the honor to fuck her. First.

Theo has been waiting just for a lovely gasp like that to slip his own hardness inside her mouth. A soft moan leaves his lips, as he remembers to take it easy on her, carefully tucking all the stray strands of hair behind her ears.

"Look at my good little Knabbeltje, taking it so good from both ends. Good girl."

MC swallows hard around Theo, barely sparing a thought about whether she'd somehow gotten high on the aphrodisiac coursing in their saliva earlier on. She almost refuses to believe that it all feels so good she feels herself leaking down Isaac's cock.

"I'm close."

Hearing that Theo's reaching his limit, her automatic response is to put even more effort sucking him off, but is stopped by Isaac.

"MC, Theo, wait. We…we ended up in a tie, didn't we? I thought it's only fair that we, uh, do it both inside you. O-only if you can take it, though! I mean, if you want to!"

Theo is already chuckling at her when she looks up to meet his gaze, and she answers with the same, cock withdrawn from her mouth now. The two men carefully shift her in a way she's sandwiched between their bodies again, this time with Isaac seated behind her.

"Let me take a good look at you, Hondje. Beautiful."

Shamelessly, Theo parts her labia to reveal better the place where she and Isaac are connected, glistening with her juices. He licks his lips as if making plans for later, but before MC can ask him about it, he claims her lips in a kiss.

She feels him prodding at her soon enough, going very slow, to make sure her hole is relaxed enough to accommodate his thick girth together with Isaac's. It works out just fine in the end, with many soft words exchanged and kisses rained on her shoulders, nape, cheeks, mouth.

MC wants to get taken care of like this forever; to feel so full and content, and warm from the inside… the slide is slow, and they don't reach deep in their fight for dominance, but they gradually grow accommodated to a pace. One thrusts in, the other thrusts out. They all know it's not going to last long but god does it feel heavenly while it lasts.

Hot spurts of cum fill her up and in the symphony of groans and moans she loses track of their individual orgasms, joining them as if in order to be the pit where the euphoria melts into one.

The aftercare is a bliss.

Isaac's soft caresses combined with Theo's unending string of praises, only half of them in a language she can comprehend as she lies on the cool sheets in a puddle.

Just one sensation can get pull her out of the trance…

"T-Theo! Don't you have shame??"

Lifting her head to gaze between her legs, she sees that Theo's "cleaning" is not involving the damp cloth anymore. He swirls his tongue in the hot concoction of their shared cum with no intention of leaving until he's licked it all off.

Isaac echoes MC's words, adding that even when sobered up from the 'love potion' he is the same. Theo only scoffs, flashing a devilish grin glistening with juices.

"What? You thought I only prefer my pancakes flooded with syrup?"

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran @thehappycat123 @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @theuwuisunreal @ravenarld @kyokirigiri-22 @kimmy-banana @devonares @animeworldsposts @randomanimatedhusbandoseeker @galaxyprison @trishtori @sadshaxk @starshards26 @pro-cat-stination @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @keen19thcenturygoatsstudent @lordsister @ikemen-banshou @themysticalbeing @canaria-blackwell @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @fun-ghoul-neela @salty-fed-up-bitch @coornn @cilokgoang @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 @ikemenlover24 @violettduchess @mcofthemansion @tiny-wooden-robot @joy-the-reader @atelieredux @cilokgoang Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen vampire theo #ikemen vampire isaac #ikevamp theo #ikevamp isaac #ikevamp smut #ikemen vampire smut #ikevamp fanfic #ikemen vampire fanfic #VISIONSOFTEMPTATION2021 #ikevamp theodorus #ikemen vampire theodorus

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welcometololaland · 2 years

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Fic Origin Story aka. Hyperfixations: the Original

A bunch of you tagged me back in this which is...fair because I should probably do my own if I'm going to expect people to tell me their life fic story. I'm SORRY I'm so obsessed with knowing about people it's a problem.

I'm living for all your responses please keep going I beg!

1. What was your first fandom (reading and/or writing)?

I don't think it's a secret that I once upon a time wrote for the fandom that shall not be named, but my first fandom was actually Veronica Mars. I read fic on some website that no longer exists but was devoted entirely to LoVe (Logan/Veronica).

I never wrote and never left comments like a complete dick, but I was also 14 and it's like common knowledge I was a complete asshole as a child.

2. What was the first story you ever wrote (even if it was never posted) and what made you decide to write it?

For fic, it was a ridiculously terrible self-insert Veronica Mars story (except I inserted myself as a best friend not a love interest...interesting choice). I remember my character surfed and made people eat Vegemite. Which...I can't surf and I'm not even going to address the Vegemite thing.

I think I was 14. It never saw the light of day thank GOD.

3. What's a piece of advice you would give to your younger fic-writing self?

Wait, and find something you're really passionate about. I'd get stuck on a bunch of chaptered fics that seemed like good ideas but I had no real fire for. Then Speak for Yourself happened and I was like damn, this is what writing is supposed to feel like.

Also, don't write in the second person. Who does that? (me, I did that)

4. What's an early fandom interaction that stuck with you (be it a nice comment, a friend you made, a fic that got a lot of feedback etc.)?

A. The day @everwitch-magiks left me a comment and changed my life by ushering me into a group of fandom friends and lighting the RWRB fire.

B. The day @rmd-writes dropped into my inbox with a gentle 'hey, do you want to let me in your doc for beta purposes?' and then took up residence and never left my G drive / heart.

5. Post a sentence or two from one of your older fics, and a sentence or two from a newer one (if you want).

I have regret for accepting this suggestion. The below fic is a Hunger Games fic I wrote originally in 2013? but i reposted it to Ao3 in 2020 (shame - why did I do that). Also, note use of second person - a bold fucking choice that did not pay off 😂:

Time is something that you seem to forever wish for, and never seem to get. It feels like your whole life has been spent trying to grasp time with a firm hand and will it to stand still. It seems like you race against a clock ticking more rapidly with every day that passes. As all humans, your days are finite. But as the particular person that you are, chosen to lead a sick, twisted life of triumph and tragedy, the days slip by you so fast it feels like it is over before it has really had the chance to begin.

This is from my newest fic (which is somehow approaching 40k and only 3.5/10 chapters) 😬😬😬

TK rolls his eyes. “You’re pretty unobservant for a private investigator,” he murmurs. “If one more person offers to buy you a drink, I’m going to buy you a wedding ring and force you to wear it.”

“You’re— What?”

“I’m jealous,” TK says drily, arching an eyebrow in Carlos’ direction. “Didn’t realise I needed to spell it out for you.”

Carlos frowns. “Of annoying hedge fund managers trying to buy me overpriced drinks and talk me into heli-skiing?”

“Hedge fund managers in Austin?” TK smirks. “Oh baby, you found a good one.”

Not tagging anyone because I already spammed a bunch of people but tagging @reyesstrand @carlos-in-glasses @rmd-writes because you tagged me back and @clottedcreamfudge because you taught me how to be ridiculous and now you must deal with the consequences of your actions.

#ask game #tag game #ALTA #snippet #lola snippet #lola writes

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monster-noises · 1 year

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hi!! please tell me about lazarus!! i keep seeing your art and the sidebar image on your blog, i would love to know more!!

OHOHOO I thought I had passed the point where someone who followed me Wouldn't know who Lazarus is... but if you're newer I guess you probably would have missed the Hayday where there were new pictures of him every like.. two days!

but yes, absolutely, I will tell you about the Boy :3c

To start with the Context: Lazarus Bosch is my Resident Evil Village OC, brought to proverbial life about twoooo months after the game came out as a result of me falling terribly in love with Karl Heisenberg (and the general world of the game) and needing to Do something about it Lmao He changed a fair bit since his first iterations(none of which made it online), and originally I wasn't going to share him with anyone, but as I gained confidence with my fanart, and as his story kept swirling and growing in my mind, I saw other folks posting about their own OC's and I let go of the Cringe and threw him out into the world (/v-v)/ At this point in time I am working on actually Writing his and Karl's story in the form of a Fan Comic called Flesh and Hot Iron (FaHI, for short)

Now! the boy himself! Lazarus, before he is anything else, is an artist. In the old world he made inert mixed-media taxidermy Automata, in The Village he makes sculptures of living flesh using the power of the Cadou. His art was and Is his world, it is Creation before all else, up to and including his Self Preservation Instincts. Which is... how he ended up in The Village in the first place really. He's passionate, frequently obsessive, frantic and often moody, just imagine what it would look like if you took a Mad Scientist and shoved it in the skin of a Pretentious Artist and that's pretty squarely Lazarus at a glance. Elegant and Terrifying, Beautiful and Filthy, a Man with an Inhuman nature... He's not that simple as a character in the wider scope of his narrative of course, he's got Much more Going On, but we can't be here Forever and also there will be the whole Comic to get into that! (I am also Notoriously bad for expressing these sorts of things in words alone, I need to show that man in Situations to get the point across dfjkghsdg) as the impetus for his creation would imply he and Karl are Together and the story of their relationship and lives in the Village are the core of the Narrative for FaHI, Though Lazarus is the focal character we see the world through. I usually describe them as like.. the same note played at different octaves, two harmonious pieces come together to form something great and terrible and resonant, if not just straight up fucking annoying. Their story is about trying, about wanting to try, about making the best of a bad situation and fumbling your way to something Good when you don't really know what that means, about being human but also being monsters, about loving both Because and In Spite Of, about rage and fear, and of course about Nasty Old Man Sex... and that.. should theoretically give you the basics! If you want some more juicy and specific details I Did do a full-detail character-exploration post here! he also has a character playlist called; Hands in the Belly of the Divine and him and Karl have a playlist of course called Flesh and Hot Iron !!! His tag on my blog is Meat Husband, where you can find what is basically a pinterest board of things that have his Vibe, inspiration for his art, and Jokes and Meme's

#monster noises #meat husband #I always feel my descriptions of him as a character are a bit lackluster and don't like.. capture the right picture #but hopefully this is a worthwhile introduction!#if you wish for more specific answers so ask away!#I have not a lot of time to draw my boy these days I may as well Type about him

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animasola86 · 1 year

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Voice Appreciation Post

I’ve always loved certain voices. Mostly male voices of a certain timbre, I cannot explain their sound exactly, but when I hear these voices, it does something to me, not necessarily in a romantic/sexual way, mind you. I just enjoy them, very much. They are soothing and relaxing and I could listen to these voices forever. They could say the dumbest or most mundane things, but I would still listen to the sound of them.

And it doesn’t even matter what language they are speaking. I’m German, so my first “voice crush” (if you want to call it that) was a popular voice actor we have here (you see, most/all of foreign movies and shows and video games are being dubbed here and that in a very high quality kind of way), who voiced the German version of Ezio Auditore from Assassin’s Creed II or Geralt of Rivia in the Witcher games, etc. (making these characters my all-time favorite videogame characters, btw).

I also enjoy listening to Japanese seiju - which makes it hard sometimes to read the subtitles of my favorite anime/drama, as I only listen (without understanding much) and enjoy. I don’t know what it is about Japanese men, but most of them just sound so good to me.

As for my newest (or oldest) love and obsession and why I’m writing this post to begin with: I also have a knack for British guys. It’s the accent (I’m not an expert on British accents so I couldn’t tell you which dialect it is or from where it hails, except maybe the Scottish accent, but that’s a no-brainer and also a favorite of mine). So I’ve had my voice crushes on, let’s say, Giles from Buffy, or Mr. Sheffield from The Nanny. (Or maybe I always liked older men too? Hmm.)

This also explains my deep obsession with Chamber of Secrets’ Tom Riddle played by Christian Coulson, whose voice is just, so, ugh. (Highly recommend any audio books he has narrated!) I can’t explain it. It just does things to me.

And the same happened when I played Hogwarts Legacy. I became totally obsessed by one particular voice and you might have guessed from the tags. Sebastian Sallow is not only the best character of the whole game, because he is so versatile and conflicted and adorable and whatnot, but his voice... the way his voice actor (Alfie Nugent, you are my absolute hero, btw!) says things, how his voice just vibrates through me, so low at times, the perfect timbre, no matter what situation Sebastian finds himself in, cheeky, flirty, worried, sad, it always sounds so mind-bogglingly good to me.

I find myself listening to his voice lines over and over again (thank you YouTube) and it helps me so much in writing my fanfiction. I love his voice, really, truly love his voice, it gives me all the good vibes love would do (in a completely platonic kind of way). And it’s just a voice.

Now, speaking about voices, I have to address the AI issue. Is it an issue? Well, I do feel bad for voice actors whose voices are (ab)used without their consent, but from a fan perspective it is the best thing that ever happened to this world. (That took a turn, eh?) Having all these creative people of the Hogwarts Legacy fandom create their own voice lines for Sebastian (and other charaters for that matter) is truly such a blessing. Every day I find more and they are all so good and authentic and the way an AI program can mimic these perfect voices is just beyond me.

So thank you, lovely people who have perfected ElevenLabs, and thank you to the original voice actors for providing those voices in the first place. I salute you all. I thank your voices for keeping me sane in these troubling times we live in.

#voice appreciation #voice actors #attracted to voices #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #alfie nugent #elevenlabs #ai voices #voice obsession #wall of text #just me rambling about voices

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sluttyhenley · 9 months

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20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @starrybouquet (thank you!!)

1. how many works do you have on Ao3?

50 (actually 51 if you count the one that hasn't been revealed yet)

2. what's your total Ao3 word count?

269,637

3. what fandoms do you write for?

I have posted in 18 different fandoms on ao3 but most recently 911, Top Gun and The Old Guard

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

my heart is working overtime (e, 911, buddie, 4k)

is forever enough (e, 911, buddie, 10,4k)

lover good be good to me (e, the old guard, joe x nicky, 20.4k)

a twister to blow everything down (t, 911, buddie, 17.2k)

when one plus one equals three (t, 911, buddie, 3.6k)

(gonna also say how blown away i was by the reception to my heart is working overtime, considering it really is one of my sillier fics)

5. do you respond to comments?

yeah, it typically won't be right away, but i do tend to reply to comments definitely! on a multi-chapter fic it doesn't tend to be until i'm posting the next chapter

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

the sound of glass (kate daniels, m, hugh d'ambray x christopher steed)

i wrote this fic for the kate daniels series last year for yuletide. i kept it within canon parameters and therefore there was no way for this pairings ending to be anything but angsty. to this day my fic is the only one in that pairing tag.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

either is forever enough (mentioned above) or put a hold on my heart (e, tgm, rooster x phoenix, currently sitting at about 31k) which i haven't finished posting yet, but like i did finish writing it and let me tell you that ending is some of the sappiest shit i've ever written

8. Do you get hate on fics?

i have. both times i deleted the comment with the intention of moving on, the second time the commenter didn't let me do that so i responded with a rocky horror gif

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

i didn't used to but boy howdy those scenes sure do seem to be finding their way into my fics. i have a wip in the works that opens practically right out the gate with two explicit scenes. it took me a bit to get back into m/f smut after writing so much m/m for buddie. (i haven't posted any f/f but i have written it for an original work)

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

yep! only one and it was a cross between the old guard and leverage and it was such a fun time actually

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

if so i don't know about it

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

nothing beyond bouncing ideas back and forth with others

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

oh god. i have like. the ones that scratch an itch in my brain and ones that i love writing for. i got new ones this year (icemav and rooster x phoenix) i love writing buck x eddie and i have had a lot of fun writing book of nile.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

i have a couple of ideas that i started and then kind of moved on from those fandoms (i had a couple of hp wips that i was excited about but will now never finish) but really a lot of what i have sitting in my docs that are unfinished are things i would like to come back to someday

16. What are your writing strengths?

dialogue, probably. and humor

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

i've had to spend so much time developing my imagery skills, and describing action. explicit scenes are such a challenge for me, from vocabulary to action. but as i work on them more i find myself developing those. but all of that are still very much weak points for me

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i won't really do it unless it's just a few words. i did it in a book of nile fic a while back, but i kept it to a few french phrases that i could translate in text.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

the first fandom i ever posted fic for was the librarians. i actually wrote some doctor x rose stuff that never went beyond the privacy of my own docs.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

i'll do three that i'm really proud of (and a bonus one that i can't name because it hasn't been revealed yet) put a hold on my heart (i just am so fond of it and all the little details that i came up with for the story some of which will be expanded on in other fics) words i've never said (it was fun to write a mistaken identity christmas fic for buddie and i really do like how it came out) let's get lost (and let the good times roll) which i wrote as a companion to lover be good to me (mentioned above) and i just really liked getting to explore and expound on another facet of that story and i really liked the character dynamics i created

tagging (no pressure of course!): @natashatrace, @reachingforaspark, @ladywaffles, @redbelles

#things i wrote #tag games

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snowbellewells · 1 year

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Tag Game

Rules: Go to your published works on Ao3 and list the first fic you ever published there, the last fic you published, any fic that you wrote for a fandom/ship only once, your favorite fic you wrote in the fandom/ship that has the most works, the fic you wish more people read, the fic you agonized over the most, the fic that sprang fully formed from your mind without any effort, and a work you are proud of- for whatever reason.

@kmomof4 tagged me in this - Thanks Krystal! (Sorry it took me so long to answer! ;p

First fic: "Start of the Dance" is the first one I posted on A03. Before that I was happily posting away in the Criminal Minds and Castle fandom on ff.net for ages - back before I even discovered Tumblr! Krystal though, convinced me to go over to A03 and create an account, largely to join the first-ever @cssns event, so I did. This one was one of my earliest CS one shots, and it ended up getting posted even before I posted the event fic I created the account for. I wrote a LOT of fic at the end of season three/ahead of season four, and this was one of my favorites from that span of time.

Last fic: I can almost guarantee it won't be literally my "last" fic, but the current last fic on my A03 dashboard is "Carolina Moon" my Nora Roberts inspired AU from the 2023 @cssns. It's still ongoing, and I promise more is coming soon! I'm not purposefully leaving you waiting.

Only Once: So, I discovered when I went to answer this one that most of the ships or fandoms I only wrote for once stayed over on my ff.net profile. The best I can do with one that has transferred over to AO3 is my @cssns18 one shot "Tasting Forever". This fic is still one of my favorites and has gotten more reviews and comments than almost anything else I've ever posted. It leans very heavily on the plot and characters of another show called Moonlight, and I seriously put Killian, Emma, and the other OuaT characters into the roles from that show, then made my own spin on the idea. I do have one other Moonlight fic, but apparently, I have never migrated it over to A03. It's called "Forever Waiting" - and I would love to have you read it - but you'll have to read it on ff.net until I make that correction! I also have a little one shot from the LotR fandom. (Not that I would ever think to change or tinker with Tolkien, but it's a little moment he didn't write between Merry and Eomer, at Theoden's graveside.) You can find it here "Simbelmyne" - clearly I still need to move all the older stuff to A03.

Favorite fic for the fandom I've written in most: That is a REALLY hard question, Krystal!! What are you doing to me?!?Okay, for reals, I will try.... (Well, I've got a top three - for now - at least)

I've always been partial to this one shot written between 3a and 3b (I even managed to squeeze Graham into it: "Ghost of Christmases Past" I am really proud of this short MC that I set in the Victorian time period and tried to make darker and more mysterious than my usual story. It was originally for the @csrolereversal fic and art event, and I had so much fun working on it, and surprising my usual readers with its tone/vibe: "The Case of the Heart in Armor" And I still love my werewolf AU MC I wrote for the first @cssns Many people have done much better and more amazing werewolf fics since, but I had wanted to try it for ages, I had some much fun doing it, and it still is a favorite for me: "Run to Me (in the Dead of Night)"

The fic I wish more people read: I am so grateful for any kudos or comment I get, but I have always wanted these to one shots to get more views and comments: "Moonlit Ghosts" and "Got My Angel Now" And I was always particularly proud of my short MC "Villain's Happy Ending" and want to tell more people to check it out and let me know what they think of it. Lastly, though I know the main pairing is Liam x Belle and so it probably never will, I always want to have people read "Looking for a Heart (that's not Walking Away)" I loved letting characters like Belle and Henry really shine, and exploring more of what Liam would have been like if we saw more of him. I loved writing it and was really proud of how it turned out, but I don't know that many people have read it.

The fic I agonized over the most: Sheesh, that's a hard one. The sensible answer would probably be my last year's @cssns22 fic "Believing Impossible Things" (since it still isn't done - I really do apologize!) But probably any of the ones where I attempted real love scenes (smut) in them. That tends to make me more than a bit anxious and to worry over each little sentence and word.

I also agonized a lot over my Music Man AU "Foot Caught in the Door (This Time)" for @captainswanmoviemarathon (Probably why it still only has one chapter ;p ) People were so kind and generous in their feedback and excitement for it, but I psyched myself out, because I love the musical so much and worry about doing it justice!

The fic that sprang fully formed from my mind without any effort: I can't really say that this ever happens for me. Not the whole fic, completely formed. Usually a certain scene comes to me - and it might be very vivid and complete - but then I have to come up with the rest of the story where it belongs!

A fic that I'm proud of, for whatever reason: 😘 It was hard to think of something that I hadn't already mentioned above, but I am quite proud of my one shot collection "Of Swans and Swords and Hopeful Hearts" - now 50 some stories strong. It's a good compendium of the sort of stories I write, the show arcs I most love, and the characters I really like to give a little more missing moments. A lot of those stories did just what I set out for them to do, and they take me back to that particular phase of the show, watching for the first time, and what I was feeling and wondering.

#fandom tag game #fic writier tag game #tag game answers #snowbellewells tag game answers

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misscammiedawn · 10 months

Note

About a year ago someone asked what things you wanted to do with hypnosis and hadn't had a chance to.

A year on, has this list changed? How?

Thank you so much, my dear. I would be happy to answer this question...

Thanks to my wonderful tagging system I was able to find the original post here. Feel free to reference what we had discussed as fantasies back then. I'll go through each listed fantasy and how it had been filled in the past 52 weeks.

I'll begin working on a new list of things to suggest in the meanwhile as I'm sure such a checklist begs to be met and matched with a new one.

So let us break down the suggestions listed in that post and how they have changed in the past year...

Fountain Scene - Wishing to recreate the intimacy of the Stardazer Comic (or Imaginatrix tweet that inspired it) by being publicly tranced in a moment of private connection with a wonderful partner, the sounds of the world fading away as the universe becomes entirely about the emotional entanglement between hypnotist and hypnotee.

(photo edited for privacy)

It was enjoyed deeply.

Written in our journal regarding the event:

Cammie was plucked up on her Miss’ lap and was given a choice between two headphones. One with more comfort and one with better sound quality. She wanted comfort. I suppose given she was longing for trance more than audio bliss this was a good decision. Though I tend to be an audiophile…

Daja had a splitter and must have done an adapter too as her phone was brand new [...] because the brand new phone with its beautiful lavender pop-socket was going to play not a spiral… no.

The Rhythm Method (1997) recorded live in Toronto.

We picked it out ourselves. Albeit as with the spiral galaxy shawl we did not realize what we were agreeing to. Daja is a sneaky tricky trickster.

We had experimented with a scene like this in the past and so it was that for every single time Neil Peart’s sticks hit a drum I’d go deeper and deeper. Every smack just drumming me into hypnotic furvor.

I remember when she did the Susan Snap to have me absorb the command (I got the memory back) I was starring empty and blank through glassy eyes at a set of kids, completely disconnected and absorbing Miss’ words.

Susan Snap time is so lovely… when I remember it later it’s like a complete mindlessly blank trance. I don’t quite remember what happens during those windows but like the fact that there were kids was like “oh wow, I was completely out of it” I guess?

But then headphones in and cheers start and I recognize the audio right away and it’s like !!!

I HAVE BEEN BAMBOOZLED AGAI–n…

And I just sunk against her. I felt her monitoring me. Keeping me safe. Making sure my arm was in the right place. Telling me to keep my neck comfortable. I starred blankly at the screen and the Stardazer comic was in my mind. I could hear the gushing of the fountain and the ambiance of the world and felt the lazy sun setting above a hill and all was soothing and…

Oh how deep I went.

How lovely it felt.

Melted into Miss. Drifted away. Absolutely and utterly nestled in trust and safety.

She took a photograph of it at the end and I’ll treasure it forever and ever and ever.

So lucky. So grateful. So happy.

So in summary, that was very much checked from the checklist. Thank you, beloved.

Flight Trance: Ah, another one checked from the hypno-bucket list...

From my Charmed 2023 journal:

As I type we are an hour in to flight.

On the runway, Dolly told me that she adored take off. The feeling of weightlessness that washes over her. She was happy to share this treasured moment with me and something in her tone invited mischief. I checked if such things were Green… Dolly emphatically insisted they were.

I took the opportunity to slide into my Toppy headspace, transforming into the indomnitable and dominant Miss Dawn. Flooded with my hypnotic presence and with her permission, I began to brainwash her while in taxi. Pulling her down and down but never given permission to *sleep*, oh no, not yet. No that would have to wait. She would not be denied the bliss of soaring, of falling in to the sky. No matter how much she wanted to she was forbidden from sinking until I gave her permission to do so.

The icing and the taxi must have taken an eternity as I ran my nails up and down her arm, tracing gentle spirals and whispering through my mask. No one else could hear us. There was no one sitting in *any* of the seats surrounding. She was in my private embrace, trapped within my words and the spell I cast upon her namesake, her Sleepy Head.

As the plane took off I tugged her arm and hissed a command for her to finally let go. I lapsed into a possessive speech. How weightlessness had claimed her, how her willpower in remaining awake is turned now to draw her deeper, that she need not fight any longer, that she was free to *obey*.

And obey she did, lovely Dolly. I lulled her and lay her against my shoulder. I asked her, while hypnotized, to tell me what she would want from the trolly when the attendants came by. I *enjoyed* ordering for her. Treating her as the pretty little prize that she felt to me in that moment.

I found a Spotify channel called Deep Focus and placed a headphone in. Let her drift until the cart service arrived. A good 40 odd minutes of brainwashing to kick off Charmed! A beautiful start to what promises to be a lovely weekend.

As I sipped my coffee and let Sleepyhead enjoy the refreshments I ordered, free from surrounding passengers to play anxiety upon our minds, I eased in and felt proud of my accomplishment. Then took the time to write this journal. As I finish this segment she has lazed back onto my shoulder, the music I selected for her lulling in her ears.

She is such a good Dolly.

I had not intended to keep her down the whole flight. My will was to have her awake after the cart. A fair divider for our trip, but she is *insatiable*. I am forced to reward her tenacity with hypnotic reverie. What else is a caring partner to do?

The announcement pinged that there were 13 minutes left and we were coming in to land. Sleepyhead awoke, surprised at how quickly the flight had “flown” by (it’s a pun!!) and quickly looked to me with serious eyes. “You’re not the only hypnotist on this flight.” she boldly proclaimed. The ambush predator was out for play.

She swiftly dropped me in such a manner that I cannot recall how it happened. The plane wobbled and bobbed with mild turbulence, rocking me in to sleep.

“I remember you said you had a fantasy of being hypnotized on a flight.” she teased, as I dropped. Deeper and deeper with every second. All Dawn energy faded as somft pretty Cammie submitted to her wonderful girlfriend.

She began to count the flight descent. 35 thousand… down and down… closer to the ground, down down…

It is a good thing I love heights and she knew it, that would have freaked a few peoples I know out. It did not freak me out. It lulled me. I was… so calm. So content.

So happy…

We landed and she brought me back. We hugged. I love her so so much!

I made a silly joke about the plane taxiing so fast that I could hear The Offspring.

Then I wrote this while waiting to disembark!

!!!!!

Amnesia shenanigans!

Miss Daja and Sleepyhead teamed up to make that scene happen! They knew it was my fantasy and that I wanted it oh so much! Sleepy did such a good job and Daja wiped me so clean that I had forgotten how excited I was for the idea jdbskgxjd

Wanna hug her so so much!

I am overjoyed! What a way to start Charmed.

Stage Show Assistant Fantasy: This one has been teased at, especially with amnesia shenanigans to ensure my darling lass was dressed the way I wished her to be dressed for my 2023 Presence class (the encore is currently scheduled for Charmed 2024 on Friday at 2pm EST) and this did touch upon some of the fantasy, but as far as I presently recall there have not been moments where Cammie has been plucked from an audience and turned into The Sensational Sunrise for an audience and performer to enjoy.

Given how elaborate the first two stories turned out to be, I suppose I had better draft out something for my lass to do when she assists me again.

Dinner Date with Goddess: COVID persists. This has yet to be accomplished. Though if you read the flight story above, I suppose I did serve that role for Dolly on the flight.

Vampire scene: The vampire ball at Charmed 2023 was such an involved and lengthy scene that I cannot share the journal entry as it would be the length of a full story. Suffice to say Cammie was enthralled (with Goddess' permission) for an entire evening, was used as an example for another vassal and got to mingle in right on the line between reality and fantasy without slipping into LARP space.

Plus it was all while wearing this:

Fae Contracts: Fae Play has been performed as part of my standard routine but never to my full satisfaction. I suppose that is a theme at play in these check-ins. When I am the one orchestrating the schemes I never feel satiated. I wish to tool and tweak and refine. I wish for it to become perfect...

The best example I can think of is the "3 times you must offer it to me" moment I had. That played into the Fae Contract fantasy quite well in my mind.

From my exhaustive journals:

Blue Fire. The gift of perfect obedience. A trigger I had worked with in our last meeting, based on a story from the Tammy Pierce books Daja and I each love. A finger to the firehead. A magical blue fire. Then the enchanted individual would awaken having completed a single command. Whether it be as simple as climb down a tower or something unthinkable.

We had placed the magical blue fire which could melt her mind away inside a blue bottle, a reference in itself to Ocarina of Time.

We had agreed to unbottle the fire and return it on the night of the Soiree and use it to get Daja all nice and dressed up for the event while I offered her “my heart”, knowing she would return it in time. Theoretically it could be used in mingle with another scene we had that weekend, though.

Daja wanted to break street date and get to enjoy the blue flame for the entire weekend. I told her I was willing to go ahead and do that for her, but only if she was certain she wanted it.

Now, Miss Dawn is a Fae. This has been true since the days she was simply an expression of gender euphoria in tabletop scenes and LARP. She was not going to accept a simple “I’m sure” as a method of consent.

“Please, Miss Dawn. Uncork the bottle.”

You must say it of your own volition three times. Uncoerced and unbound by a fractionated mind. Say it three times and I shall uncork the bottle and unleash the spell which effortlessly bewitches your mind and engulfs you in the flame of Pure Obedience. Knowing that once that spell takes hold and melts your mind away there will not be a single thing you will not do for me when I command you under its enchantment.

“Please, Miss Dawn. Uncork the bottle.”

I lowered myself and took her arm and kissed her fiercely. Looked her in the eyes and held her gaze. I reminded her that she would act without any memory of her actions, that she would be giving me complete control of her and doing so without a long thought was simply unwise.

“Please, Miss Dawn. Uncork the bottle.”

Utilizing a previously installed trigger I commanded her to kiss me and enjoyed the moment. My fingers laced around the bottle. If she were to ask me one more time then I would be bound by my Fae Contract to comply and control her.

Was this really? Truly? Deeply desired?

“Please, Miss Dawn…”

I gave her hair a tug and looked her in the eyes.

“Please uncork the bottle.”

As you wish, my love.

What else could a Fae say when bound by a contract? I followed the pre-negotiated scene, which had some lovely amnesia laden suggestions hidden within. Because I am a tricky Fae and if the airplane ride and the MMM scene had not already proven, Daja and I studied for this test and had written a dissertation on how to make these scenes work.

I am also editorializing a little bit because I have a broken brain that doesn’t remember things and imagines things between the gaps.

“Hand me the bottle, my dear.”

And that is it for the fantasies I listed on November 26th 2022.

Which means we need some new fantasies to treat like a checklist, I suppose?

But this post is running long. Anon, my sweet, be so kind as to send me another ask requesting my new list of unfulfilled fantasies. I shall work hard to fill the list with wonders and delights that shall become as fond as these memories are to us.

#dawn asks #hypno asks #hypnokink #scene stories #daja <3 #sleepyhead <3

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