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zaldritzosrose · 6 days ago

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Sell Your Soul (Vampire!Aemond x Mortal!Reader x Wolf!Aegon)

Summary: The blood of Old Valyria was steeped in mysticism and magic. There was no rhyme or reason to the powers a Targaryen received. Some saw it as a curse. Others, like the brother princes, saw them as a blessing. Power beyond measure and they used it to their advantage. The mortals would send a tribute in return for protection, but what happens when both brothers covet the prize?

CW: MINORS DNI, afab reader, she/her pronouns, supernatural au, polyamory (sharing is caring), profanity, innuendo, mentions of blood/injury,, primal play, threesome (mutual participation from all parties), oral (f receiving), p in v sex, anal penetration (male receiving), multiple orgasms.

Words: 6069

No beta...let chaos ensue!

For centuries, the mortals of Westeros had paid tribute to their Valyrian rulers. Countless sent to the Red Keep to pay for the protection the silver haired immortals gave them.

There was little rhyme or reason to the supernatural abilities of a Targaryen. Some would shift their shape, some would turn into a beast on a full moon, others would eternally sate themselves on mortal blood.

Whatever they became, they were immortal.

Once every quarter, a new tribute would be sent to the Keep. It was only the two princes who now partook in the ceremony. Taking it in turns to receive a tribute every quarter.

This quarter, the turn belonged to Prince Aemond.

The One-Eyed Prince had long since mastered his thirst for mortal blood. Usually sating himself on a planned hunt or on the battlefield. But his favourite time of the year was his tribute months. Knowing he would have a subservient mortal to bend to his will?

He enjoyed nothing more.

Prince Aegon on the other hand, let the beast within control everything he was. He had succumbed to his nature so deeply that he could shift his form on a whim. A true connection between man and beast. The amber in his eyes a constant reminder of his true being.

Their father had long rescinded his claim, living out his immortality on the Targaryen’s ancestral seat of Dragonstone. The once King Viserys was joined by his eldest daughter and her family, who like Viserys, had chosen to remove themselves from royal life.

Their sister, Helaena, had returned to Oldtown with their mother. Birthing Targaryens had lengthened Alicent’s life substantially, but neither enjoyed immortality as the brothers did.

You were of a Noble House. Not as grand as the likes of the Baratheons or Lannisters or as ingrained into Westerosi history as the Starks. But your family were known well enough.

The tributes were chosen at random. Though no one knew the true details of the selection process. Only that a letter, sealed with a red dragon, would appear by raven at the door of the one chosen.

This quarter, the letter arrived at your family’s door.

The preparation for your journey to the Red Keep was intensive and felt wildly unnecessary.

The luxurious bath filled with petals and oils, permeating your skin and your senses. The gown that had been designed and made solely for the event. A silken dress of sapphire blue, golds and black. The colours not of House Targaryen, but of Prince Aemond.

You were to belong to him, to his House. Not you.

You were no longer your own person. You were to be owned. To serve Prince Aemond’s wishes, whatever they may be.

So, into the carriage you went. With a singular chest of your more precious belongings. The books you had kept since you were a child, a favoured shawl for when the night’s cooled. Your father had been assured, within the letter, that everything else would be provided for.

Your life was soon to change forever. Little did you know just how much.

The throne room was opened in preparation for the tribute’s arrival. Aemond had ensured he’d hunted the night before, keeping his thirst at bay for the new arrival.

The Iron Throne was shared between the brothers now. When Aegon chose to take his lupine form, Aemond would sit the throne. When Aemond was out hunting, usually for up to a week, Aegon would take charge.

The younger prince sat comfortably on the throne. His posture the perfect mix between relaxed and upright. Fingers tapping against the iron blades beneath his arm.

Waiting.

The heavy doors to the hall soon opened, two guards flanking a young woman. The only movement from the prince was a straighter back as he waited for the mortal tribute to be brought to him.

“Your tribute, my prince,” one of the guards urged you forward with a firm push.

You immediately dropped to a curtsy. You had heard the stories of the princes. Prince Aemond was the fiercer of the pair in his brutality and blood lust. Whereas Prince Aegon was every bit the animal, frivolous and lustful in his demeanour.

He held out his hand in silence, waiting for you to take it.

And take it you did.

His skin was like ice. Soft yet cold, a shiver running down your spine at the feeling.

“My lady,” Aemond purred, bringing your hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to it.

But his lips lingered, the tip of his nose now pushed into your floral scented skin. It wrinkled slightly at the scent, but he continued on whatever path he had planned. Tracing down to your wrist until he could nestle again your vein.

You felt him inhale deeply, the low grumble of satisfaction within his chest should have put you edge.

“You smell delightful.”

Aemond said the words with no more gravitas than if he was complimenting your gown or the weather. Goosebumps rose on your arms as he pressed another kiss to the veins on your wrist.

“Thank you, my prince.” Was all you could manage, your voice barely a whisper but he heard you well enough.

Delightful wasn’t a good enough word, Aemond thought.

You smelled divine.

Aegon had heard the carriage arrive, watched as the guards led you into the Keep. You were beautiful. A small growl of frustration had left him when he remembered you weren’t to be his to claim this time.

But he had followed. Slipped behind the pillars of the throne room as you entered. Amber eyes able to see better in the low light that his brother preferred.

And he watched.

Watched you walk to stand at Aemond’s feet. Watched as you curtsied before the younger prince. And watched as Aemond sated himself with your scent.

A scent he could smell from here. So sweet. The mix of floral oils and the blood that ran in your veins. You smelled more delicious than any mortal he had smelled in a long time.

And yet fate had not brought you to his feet.

But he wanted you, nonetheless. Aemond could never treat you as you should be treated. Use you as you should be used.

No. You needed a beast.

The chambers were grander than anything you had ever slept in before. You wagered they were grander than your entire family home.

Plush bedding in deep purples and blues. A heavy four poster bed in a deep mahogany, carved with what looked like dragon wings.

One wall was filled with shelves crammed full of books. Histories, poetry, romance and everything between.

The opposite side had a large vanity, perfumes and oils placed neatly on the dark wood. A door to the side showed you a balcony, though the prince made you promise to keep the heavy drapes closed if he entered the room.

Aemond leaned against the door frame, watching you inspect every inch of the chamber with fascination. He couldn’t count how many mortals had taken to this chamber before you. His brother had his own in his corridor of the keep for the same purpose. But he would never tell you as such.

He had learned long ago, mortals found fascination in the most pedestrian of things. And to have you happy, would only make you taste sweeter.

“Thank you, my prince. I have never seen a room so beautiful.”

Aemond smiled, the sharp tips of his fangs grazing his lip. He walked towards you, his back straight and his steps slow.

“I am glad. These are to be your chambers for your time here. Do with them as you please, but always be ready should I call.”

You nodded. The terms seemed simple enough. You were to serve the prince however he pleased. Be it to fuck or to feed.

You were his now.

Aegon could smell it. The sweet scent of the bath the servants had drawn for you.

Of course you were to be bathed. Aemond enjoyed his meals when they were fresh and warm. A hot bath would only warm your blood and calm your nerves.

But the smell was like a torment.

Reminding him over and over that you were not his.

He had never felt like this during one of Aemond’s quarters before. None of the other tributes in those times had ever entranced him as you did.

And Aemond knew. Aegon could tell.

The way his brother’s nose twitched in the throne room; it wasn’t in reaction to your perfumes. It was in reaction to him. The musky scent of a wolf had not always been a scent Aemond enjoyed.

Aemond had known he was in the throne room. His brother was intelligent, perceptive. He’d have known exactly why Aegon was there.

Which would only make what he planned all that more satisfying.

Morning came and a tray of food had been left on the small table at the foot of your bed. You settled on to the couch to eat before noticing the small scroll next to your pot of tea.

The daylight hours are yours to do with as you please. All I ask is that you do not leave the Keep walls, that way I know you are safe and well.

I will send a servant for you when the night comes. Every night, you will come to my chambers. Clothes will be left for you every morning. Your meals will be delivered to your chambers, or wherever you would prefer to eat.

Anything you need, do not hesitate to ask.

Aemond.

You read the note twice more. Committing every word to memory. You knew there would be rules, but you had not expected as much freedom as you were apparently being offered.

“I can go as I please…?” you mumbled to yourself.

The rules made sense, of course. You were a payment to the Prince; it was understandable he would not want you to venture far. The intricacies of what you would do in his chambers remained a curiosity. You had asked the Maester in your family home about the Targaryens. More specifically about those of a vampiric nature.

It was known before the letter arrived who the tribute would go to. So, when it arrived at your door, you immediately demanded everything the Maester knew.

No sunlight for Prince Aemond.

No silver for Prince Aegon.

Prince Aemond would sustain himself on mortal blood, though animal would suffice if he was desperate.

Prince Aegon would shift with the turn of the moon, becoming more beast than man.

The Maester had made sure you knew everything; despite your reminder you were serving only Prince Aemond. But the Maester had heard the stories. Both brothers were vicious in their own right. He wanted you to be well prepared.

You finished your breakfast and moved to get tread for the day. As the note had promised, clothes had filled your wardrobe. A variety of gowns in all manner of fabric and colour. Though there was one consistency you noticed. Every single one was a lower neckline than you were accustomed to.

Though when you thought on it, it made sense. As a vampire, Prince Aemond would need…access…to your throat. You assumed that was the main service you would provide anyway.

You chose a lighter gown, having felt the warmth of the sun coming through the drapes. Your plan for today was simply to explore the Keep. Learn your surroundings.

Though you would soon come to find you were not the only one on the prowl.

Aegon followed you everywhere during the day, though for the first week or so you never managed to see him. You simply always had the feeling you were being followed. The hairs on the back of your neck would stand on edge. You were sure you could always hear footsteps shadowing yours.

But he always remained out of sight.

You would see him when he allowed it. When he would pass you after dinner, or when you chose to walk the gardens.

But you knew it was him that stalked your every move.

Some nights, you were sure you would see his amber eyes in the shadows.

Aemond, on the other hand, was a curious man. You could never tell if he disliked your presence or craved it. But you had fallen into a comfortable routine.

As soon as the sun set, you would eat your last meal, bathe and walk to Aemond’s chambers. He preferred you dressed simply, not wanting to risk blood stains on one of your more lavish gowns.

You usually sat in his lap, or between his outstretched legs on the bed. His fangs sunk into your neck or wrist.

In the times he took you to bed, which were becoming far more common, he would feed from the flesh of your thighs. Alternating between drinking the blood in your veins and lapping at the slick between your folds.

If your blood wasn’t his means to survive, he’d say your cunt was his most delicious meal.

A month had passed. Aemond was more enamoured with you by the day. He had drained the last tribute long before a month. But you were different. He enjoyed your company more than he anticipated.

But then there was Aegon.

Time and time again, his elder brother would come asking for one night with you. For Aemond to share you, just temporarily. And tonight was another of those times.

“One night, brother, you can surely spare her for one night?”

It wasn’t that he didn’t wish to share you to spite his brother. Well, that’s what Aemond would tell himself. No, it was to make a point.

They had agreed to take a turn every quarter. Those four months, the new tribute belonged to the chosen brother and him alone.

Changing that now would surely tear down the routine they lived by?

“As I have told you countless times, brother…No.” Aemond said tiredly, this was the second time they’d had this conversation this week.

“Your time for a tribute will come soon enough. You need to exercise patience.”

All that earned Aemond was a rough growl. Amber eyes flashing with rage as the elder prince realised he wouldn’t get his way.

“A deal then.”

It wasn’t a question, or at least Aegon didn’t post it as one.

“What?” Aemond asked simply, returning his attention to the books in his lap.

You would arrive soon, and he wanted Aegon gone by then.

“A deal. A game of sorts.”

Aemond sighed. Whatever it was would be guaranteed to be ridiculous.

“I have no time for jests, Aegon.”

Aegon however, was taking this seriously. Grabbing the book from Aemond and throwing across the room.

“It is not a jest!”

Aemond rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. It was like Aegon was on fire. The entire energy of his body bubbling to the surface. The look in his eyes told Aemond he was truly serious.

“Alright, I’ll indulge your nonsense. What game are you suggesting?”

Aegon sat in front of him, lounging in the armchair in contrast to how Aemond sat perfectly straight backed.

“A hunt. Not to kill as we usually would, but to claim her as a prize. Whoever catches her first is the one she belongs to.”

Silence settled between them while Aemond considered what his brother was saying. If he lost, he would lose you. He wasn’t truly sure if he wanted to risk that. And how would you take being competed over?

“One condition. We tell her. I will not allow her to be caught off guard by it all. She has been a loyal and obedient tribute; she deserves as such.” Aemond finally said, his voice low and calm.

Aegon huffed a little, but he knew agreeing was his only option. His brother was quite possessive of his tributes but treated them far kinder than Aegon.

“A fair compromise. We are agreed then?”

The elder prince held out his hand, as though they were agreeing to something far more pedestrian than the life of a mortal. Aemond took it, one shake sealing their agreement.

And with that, Aegon made to leave the room.

“May the best brother win.”

You came to Aemond’s chambers at the same time as you had every night you had been here. Dressed in a soft white gown, one of his favourites. Hair flowing in sync with your gown in the breeze coming through Aemond’s window.

The prince preferred his room on the cooler side but would always light a fire if you requested it.

Usually, he was either reading by the unlit fire or lounging on his bed. But the air in the room felt tense as you entered. Aemond stood eerily still by the balcony in his room, moonlight illuminating his lean silhouette.

“My prince?”

Aemond turned slowly, singular gaze softening a little as he looked at you.

“Sweet one. Would you like the fire lit?”

The small goosebumps on your arms gave the answer before your words could. Aemond moved quickly, it was rare for him to allow servants to enter the room once you joined him for the night.

The fire soon roared to life. Your body naturally being drawn to the warmth. Aemond followed, holding his hands out to temper some of his body’s coldness. All for you, of course.

“Thank you, my prince.”

He sat in his armchair, beckoning you to sit in his lap. You had no hesitation, legs both slung across him, your back against the arm of the chair. His arm around your waist and his lips immediately at your neck.

Aemond had every intention of one last feed before he proposed Aegon’s game. Your blood was only second to your company in the things he would miss should he lose.

But even without words, you could tell something was wrong. Even in a month, you could sense a tenseness in how he held you. His hand a little too tight on your waist.

“Is something the matter, my prince?”

You could feel him freeze; teeth just pierced into your throat. He pulled back, laving his tongue over the bite mark before sighing.

“Yes, my dearest. Tis not something I had ever hoped to have to speak on.”

You remained silent. Knowing he would tell you in his own time.

His head rested against the back of the chair. A low hum left his lips as though deciding how to formulate his next sentences.

“My brother…” Aemond started, fingers tightening and loosening on your waist.

“He has proposed something, regarding you.”

The mention of Aegon made you squirm, for reasons you didn’t fully understand. Both brothers were handsome. Aemond in an ethereal, almost demonic way. Aegon in a primal, animalistic way.

Deep down, you knew you wouldn’t dislike being owned by either Targaryen prince.

“Me? What does your brother wish with me?”

You weren’t entirely foolish. You had seen the way Aegon would look at you as he passed. Watching you as you walked the gardens, he was able to stand the sun unlike Aemond. He only ever watched. Spoke if you spoke to him. But his eyes betrayed everything.

Looking at you as one would look at a fine jewel or a decadent meal.

As though he wished to capture and devour.

At first, it had made you uncomfortable. Made you wither under his gaze. But now…now you found yourself seeking it out. Wondering what his touch would be like. Warmer than Aemond’s, most likely. Rougher even, an untamed animal.

Aemond’s nose again the shell of your ear brought you back to your senses.

“He asked me for a deal. He covets you, sweet one.”

Aemond should have been against it. Upset, frustrated, angry. Yet he wasn’t. He had seen how Aegon looked at you. His brother had no shortage of lovers at his beck and call. Walking in daylight allowed far more freedoms.

So for Aegon to covet what belonged to Aemond, it was not something to trifle with.

Your silence prompted him to continue.

“He wishes to compete for you. For us to chase you down and claim you as a prize.”

It shouldn’t have sent heat rushing down to your belly. It shouldn’t have made your cheeks flush. It shouldn’t have made your core twitch with need.

Aemond could smell it. Though in his pride, he believed it was only in response to him.

“And you are telling me because…?”

Aemond inhaled a breath he did not need.

“Because I wish for you to be fully aware…to not be taken by surprise or be taken advantage of.”

You gave your prince a small smile. You knew this was out of possessiveness not love, but it made your heart swell. Your pulse beat just a little faster.

“Do you want to make the deal?”

Aemond pressed a kiss to your pulse.

“I do. Aegon is not one to covet often. To ask such a thing…”

You turned your head. Daring to press a kiss to his forever pouted lips. Aemond smirked, tugging you in deeper.

“Then hunt me, my prince.”

The time was set. The Kingswood would be the setting. At night, of course. Not close to a full moon so as not to truly risk your life. Everything was designed so that you would be safe, and the competition would be fair.

Your gown was both practical and beautiful. Flowing out in layers of chiffon and silk. Shades of white and soft blues and lilacs. You almost glowed in the moonlight as you and the princes waited at the boundary of the woods. You were more than thankful the night was a warm one.

The brothers talked between them, too low for you to hear. You simply waited.

Soon, both were at your sides.

“Run as fast as you can, sweet one.” Aemond said softly, twirling a lock of your hair in his fingers.

“We will give you a head start.” Aegon chuckled, his chest just close enough to your back that you could feel the heat of him.

You nodded. Bustling your skirts to make running easier. And with that, you ran.

As fast as you were physically able.

You were deep in the Kingswood by the time you heard the cracking of twigs. You knew it was purposeful. Both princes were too well skilled in the hunt to give away their position.

It was a taunt. Something to get your body pumping with adrenaline.

And it worked.

Your heart beat faster. Your legs burned with the speed you ran. But it was exhilarating. The longer you ran, the more you realised you had little concern for which prince caught you. The idea was what kept you running.

One would catch you.

The question was simply…which.

They could hear you, smell you. The sweat on your skin, the blood in your veins. The cracking of the twigs and leaves beneath your feet.

And they could hear each other.

Aemond could hear Aegon’s growls. The gnashing of his teeth as he lost himself to the hunt. He could even smell the change, his brother’s scent turning more and more lupine as he closed in on you.

Aegon could hear Aemond. His heavy, purposeful steps as he ran. A sound impossible to hear for mortals. But Aegon would know his brother’s steps anywhere.

Aegon found you first. Saw you at least. Just ahead, dress billowing in the breeze. You were like something from a fairytale. A princess lost in the woods.

Two monsters hunting her down.

“I can smell you, pretty girl.” Aegon called out, his voice rough and low but echoing through the trees, nonetheless.

You passed by a tree, claw marks imbedded that could only come from someone moving upon two legs.

Aegon. It had to be. So where was Aemond?

Your question was answered when you saw a flash of silver pass ahead of you. Faster than anything you had ever seen. You could hear Aegon, howling out your name behind you.

Ahead must be Aemond.

You trapped between the brothers. And the idea sent fire through your veins.

But you were tiring. A mortal could only run for so long. Your legs gave out in the centre of the Kingswood, grasping on to a nearby tree before you hit the ground.

And then you felt him. The warm, rough hands of the wolfish prince.

“Caught you…”

His arms were around your waist, inches from the ground. His chest pressed hard into your back. His lips on your shoulder.

“Not so fast, brother.”

Aemond’s voice was like silk, appearing from behind the tree you clung to only moments before. Finding you at almost the same moment.

“It appears we found her at the same time.” Aegon grumbled, his arms almost painful around your waist.

You could feel the argument brewing. The tense air between siblings.

“My princes…”

Your soft voice made them stop immediately. Curiosity in both of their eyes.

“You both found me. You both win.”

Rules were technically rules. Whoever found you first, claimed you as a prize. And they had both found you.

“You may both claim your prize.”

You couldn’t remember how you got back to the Keep, just that you had arrived their quickly.

They brought you to your chambers. Neutral ground you imagined.

You were laid flat on your bed, the white fabric of your gown splayed out around you. Both brothers on either side of you.

Your mind muddled with the feeling of their hands tugging at your dress. Taking layer after layer from your body until you were entirely bare. Their own clothes soon followed, warmth on one side and cold on the other.

Your two monstrous princes.

“Such a beautiful prize, brother…” Aegon growled into your neck, lips ghosting over your skin.

Aemond’s hands were everywhere. He delighted in the gooseflesh that followed his icy hands. Aegon’s warm lips soothed the cool touch, following the path his younger brother took.

They were in perfect synchronisation. Hands moving over every bare inch of your body. Lips claiming your skin with forceful kisses.

“A delicious one too.” Aemond hummed, lips finding the swell of your breast. Taking your soft bud between his lips, teasing you.

Aegon’s hands hand delved between your thighs. Rough fingertips finding you already wet and waiting.

“Her blood or her cunt? I assume you have dined on both?”

Aemond chuckled, tugging at your closest thigh as Aegon shifted down your body. You barely sighed out a moan before Aegon’s mouth latched onto your pearl.

He was just as you pictured. Feral. Animalistic.

Aemond preferred to take his time. Tease. Tempt.

Aegon devoured you. He had your back arching almost immediately.

The younger prince remained latched to your breast. His third favourite part of your body, he’d told you. Your blood, your cunt, your breasts. You should have taken offence, but the way he touched and fed was nothing short of euphoric.

Aemond held your legs wide. Gaze flicking from his brother’s head nestled between them, to your face. Eyes closed in pleasure as you began to moan out Aegon’s name.

It wasn’t long before you were spilling on Aegon’s tongue. The elder growling into your skins as he finally tasted you. He shoved Aemond’s hands away. Wrapping his arms around your thighs and keeping you pressed against his face.

One peak became two. Coating his tongue with your pleasure with a scream of his name.

“Aegon…” you sighed, vainly pushing Aegon’s head away.

Aemond’s lips were at your neck. Kissing all the places that would make your body shiver.

“I told you, brother. Delicious.”

Aegon growled a reply. The amber in his eyes seemed brighter, boring into you as he crawled up your body. You half expected his lips to find yours…

But they found Aemond’s. The younger groaned into his brother’s mouth, the fierce kiss a clash of fangs and tongues.

The taste of your slick on Aegon’s tongue, mixed with his brother’s own distinct flavour had Aemond’s length twitching against your side. His hand tangled into Aegon’s shaggy locks, tugging him closer.

And the sight had your cunt pulsing around nothing. You didn’t mind being momentarily ignored, the embrace before you was enough to keep your body thrumming.

But they didn’t ignore you for long.

Aemond’s free hand roamed freely over your stomach, lower and lower until his fingertips teased over your mound. Aegon’s hips remained settled between your thighs, and Aemond wasted no time in simultaneously touching you both. His fingers nestled between your folds as his knuckles brushed against Aegon’s cock as he slowly ground himself against you.

The longer Aemond touched, the more you and Aegon both moved. Seeking out his hand in any way you could. And at the same time, grinding against each other. It was like a rhythm, all three of you falling into synchronisation in pursuit of pleasure.

Aegon’s lips remained near Aemond’s, chasing his kiss again and again as his length rubbed faster against your core.

Your own hands found their way on to Aemond’s body. Up his thigh and across his waist to his back. If there was one thing Aemond had asked you when he first bed you, it was to touch him. Any way you saw fit, just touch him. Dig your nails into his shoulders, tangle your hands into his hair, he didn’t care as long as he was touched.

It soon turned out that Aegon was much and the same.

The elder prince’s lips left Aemond’s and found yours. Aemond’s hand sandwiched between you both as Aegon leaned forward to kiss you. You could almost taste Aemond on his tongue.

“Do you want us both, pretty girl?” Aegon asked, his lips moving from yours down to your jaw and neck.

Aemond continued to slide his fingers between your folds. Parting them just enough for the length of Aegon’s cock to rub between them.

You could barely speak, on the verge of overstimulation and they’d done hardly anything to you really.

“Answer my brother, sweet one.” Aemond whispered, pressing his fingers against your pearl to earn a shocked moan from your lips.

“Yes. Yes…please…”

The question was pointless in truth. It was abundantly clear you desired them both, but the princes were never shy of seeking a boost to their ego.

And the look they shared was almost as though they were communicating in a way you’d never quite understand.

Aemond slipped from the bed, his absence making you whine just a little. But you just missed the small smile he gave at the sound.

“I’ve had her quite a few times this past month, brother. What say…you fuck her first?”

You tried to stifle the flush to your skin, the way your legs clenched together for some relief at the thought.

But only Aegon truly understood Aemond’s plan.

“You are too kind,” Aegon grinned, turning back to you and swiping two fingers through your slick.

His hand then moved to his length, using your juices as lubrication as he pumped himself a few times before lining up at your entrance.

You should have questioned what Aemond would be doing, but the slow slide of Aegon’s cock between your folds was far too much of a distraction. Your back arched from the bed immediately, hands grasping at Aegon’s shoulders.

Your eyes fluttered closed, focusing only on the feeling of Aegon’s length pushing in and out at a torturously slow pace. It was almost as though he was waiting for something.

Aemond had already found the small vial of all, similar vials stashed everywhere in the Keep – should the brothers ever need them. Long fingers slick as they circled Aegon’s hole, free hand pushing his plump cheeks apart.

Aegon’s rhythm faltered momentarily at the feeling, stuttering as Aemond pushed his fingers deeper and deeper. It never took much really, centuries of being each other’s source of pleasure had kept them both forever ready.

The elder’s hips slowly matched Aemond’s rhythm, the push of his hand urging Aegon’s hips to move faster.

So, when Aemond positioned the head of his cock at Aegon’s puckered hole, all the wolf prince did was lean a little further forward. The new angle pushing his cock deeper into your cunt.

The brothers soon sank into a rhythm. Aegon allowing the rough push of Aemond’s hips to determine the thrusts he made into you. Their rhythm bordered on punishing and all you could do was pant and moan out some garbled combination of their names.

Your body jolted with every combined thrust. Aegon’s head buried between your breasts, your hands tugging at his hair every time he hit deeper and deeper.

Aemond’s hands were tight on Aegon’s waist. Restraining himself from the urge to use his full strength solely for your benefit. But that didn’t stop the bed slamming into the wall with their combined vigour.

You could Aemond whispering to Aegon, but it was too low for you to properly hear except for the last few words.

“Fuck her harder. Bite her. She’ll like it.”

Aegon growled into your chest, his lips already latched onto the valley between your breasts. But now, his teeth joined. Grazing your skin just to tease.

“Harder, Aegon. Leave a mark. Can you not see mine own on her skin?”

Aemond’s marks littered your body. From where he drank to where he simply latched on as he fucked you. Soft crescents a shade or two lighter than your skin. Aegon could see them well enough.

He started slow. Thrusting deep in unison with Aemond as he sunk his teeth into your breast. His bite was harsher than Aemond’s, but pleasurable all the same. The sting soon gave away as he suckled the blood he drew.

When he’d had his fill, not needing the sustenance in the same way Aemond did, he leaned back to tangle in yet another kiss with his brother.

The blood on his tongue made Aemond growl into his mouth, taking whatever was left to remind himself just how delicious a morsel you were.

Their hips continued to thrust into you, body arching as your release overcame you before you could think. Slick coating Aegon’s cock, milking him for all he was worth. He still inside you, letting Aemond control the rhythm.

The pace was almost painful, Aegon’s cock spearing you wide open in response to Aemond’s hips. The younger prince’s cock bullying at Aegon’s prostate until he spilled inside you with growl.

Aemond followed, sinking his teeth into Aegon’s shoulder as he filled his hole completely. His seed dripping down his brother’s thighs.

Your body was past spent. Exhaustion overtaking even before Aegon pulled himself from your depths. He moved to clean himself up, whilst Aemond came to your side.

“Do you think you could me one more, darling?” Aemond purred into your ear, slipping between your thighs.

You sighed out in agreement as Aemond rolled his hips against you. Hardening already and reminding you of his stamina.

It didn’t take much, his cock sliding in easily and beginning a soft rhythm. Aemond wasn’t about to leave himself without the feel of your silken walls.

Aegon watched from the side, fully cleaned and still bare. He lounged on an armchair. Simply watching.

Aemond rut into you slowly, urging you into a wakened slumber with his tenderness. You came for him with a whimper, his lips on your neck. Just like he always would. Letting you fall to sleep still buried inside you. As close as you could be. His seed pulsing into your cavern now.

When you finally relaxed, eyes barely opened, Aemond pulled away. Taking the cloth from Aegon he cleaned your skin of both of their spends. Aegon slipped into the bed at your opposite side.

Both brothers nestled against your now sleeping form.

“We keep her.” Aegon offered, sliding an arm around your waist to join Aemond’s.

Their fingers interlaced over your stomach, relaxing to the sound and feel of your breathing.

The idea was something they had never considered. To share a lover, to keep a mortal together for the first time.

Aemond hummed his agreement.

You would be theirs. Theirs to love. Theirs to own. Theirs to devour at will.

You had sold your soul, and they would cherish it.

Aegon/Aemond taglist:

@legitalicat @thenameswinter99 @sylasthegrim

@aemondsbabe @kaelatargaryen @thought--bubble

@towriteloveontheirarms @anjelicawrites @multyfangirl

@blissfulphilospher @elaratyrell @khaleesihel

@arcielee @tumblin-theworldaway @aemondsbabygirl

@hoosbandewan @mysticalendings @arcielee

If you want to be added or removed, let me know!

#aemond targaryen #aegon targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond smut #vampire aemond #aemond targaryen smut imagine #aegon smut #aegon targaryen smut #wolf aegon #supernatural au #poly au #aegond x reader #x reader smut #x reader

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elerrinacrownedwithstars · 2 months ago

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I was thinking of Beren and Lúthien and how their story is so much more interesting than they get credit for. I mean, on the surface it reads like a fairy tale but it also elevates the rest of the story, it uses common fairy tale tropes but turns them upside down, and the way we see the heroine asserting her agency in this story is so fascinating. I think the story of Beren and Lúthien provides much needed contrast for the rest of the Silm, and both become more poignant because of this contrast.

The familiar fairy tale goes like this: there's a a poor but resourceful peasant, set with a difficult task (which is in fact designed to be impossible to complete), but thanks to some magical help he is successful, retrieves treasure, and as a reward he wins the king's daughter and lives happily ever after as a prince, gaining all the earthly glory one can have in this life. But in the Tale of Beren and Lúthien, the hero is a traumatised outlaw, the king's daughter IS the magical help, she is an active and equal participant in the quest for her own hand in marriage, the treasure may actually be cursed, the hero and heroine die, and the ultimate reward is not a social rise from rags to riches. Beren does not become a member of the power-wielding elite of Doriath and he and Lúthien are not promised that their second life will be happy or long. But just that chance is worth it, and by choosing it they actually change the course of history. Lúthien is offered all the bliss that is possible to have in Arda, if she will give up Beren, but she decides that the love she has for him is still more valuable. And that idea, of loving someone so much that your love shifts the world, is so compelling to me.

And I love that the story of Beren and Lúthien is also a rendition of Orpheus and Eurydice, and that just as the world was created in the Music of the Ainur, so is Lúthien's song powerful enough to change what those original notes dictated. She changes it with hope and a song. That is so simple and yet so beautiful, in the way some of the best myths are. (Insane that this is essentially a love-letter to Edith Tolkien.)

There is this fascinating contrast between Beren and Lúthien: at the time of their first meeting, Beren has lost literally everything and his family is either dead or lost beyond retrieval. Stumbling across Lúthien, he is fresh from terrible ordeals and suffering. But Lúthien's life has been full of happiness and without care, and she has lived in a literal fairy kingdom as the most beautiful of all the Children of Ilúvatar. She could have her pick of any prince of Eldar. But here she comes across this mortal, who has nothing to give except for his love and even that only for a brief time, and she is willing to risk all she has for it. The gall and courage it takes to take such a chance! She chooses this man and her choice changes everything.

And that is brilliant! Because Lúthien starts with so little power and agency, and she is constantly belittled or even abused by those with more power around her. She is treated as a pawn, her will is undermined and she is coerced and imprisoned to make her compliant. But Lúthien shows her determination and courage in holding fast to her choice even when it's just her and Beren against the world. In the end, she wins agency and freedom to determine her own tale. In her beginning Lúthien is a maid dancing in the woods; by the end she will have faced Satan and death itself, and changed the world forever. Truly, to call her story "Release from Bondage" is more than appropriate. How insane is this all from Beren's point of view? He has lost everything, he is an outlaw, and has nowhere to go. What is left of his family is scattered who knows where. He has nothing but the clothes on his back and nothing to give. But here is this immortal princess, and she will go to hell and back with him! She will cross the Sundering Sea to bid him farewell! She pleads with inexorable death and for her, an exception is made! It's so on brand for Tolkien that these two achieve with their love, and precisely because they act out of love, something that others with armies behind their backs can't even imagine doing.

Yeah. It's such a good, hopeful, bittersweet tale.

#Lúthien #Lúthien Tinúviel #Beren Erchamion #The Silmarillion #Silmarillion #The Lay of Leithian

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soulofapatrick · 4 days ago

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Bound by Starlight - Cassian x female reader

Summary: Cassian shows you Starfall for the first time since you’ve been changed and it changes something between you

Words: 2.8K

Warnings: none really

Y/N's POV

I remember the feeling of my humanity being ripped away—an icy, clawing pain that stripped me of everything I once was. The cauldron’s water had wrapped around me like iron chains, pulling me down, down, until I could barely breathe. I had screamed, fought, begged to be freed, but the King of Hybern hadn’t cared. To him, I was just another Archeron sister, another human in the way, and he’d tossed me in with the others like I was nothing.

Now, I live as fae, my once-mortal body transformed, immortal senses heightened. My soul, however… it lingers somewhere between what I used to be and what I have no choice but to become. Nesta withdrew into herself, anger simmering behind cold eyes, shutting me out with her silence. Elain, though kind as always, sank into her garden, her love for flowers the only piece of herself she could cling to. And Feyre… she ascended, becoming the High Lady, a role so immense that I rarely even see her anymore.

Velaris is beautiful, I’ll give it that. With its vibrant, bustling streets, the colours and scents so alive, it’s like nothing I ever knew as a human. At first, I stumbled around here like an intruder, the way people would stare at my still-soft, unsure steps betraying how new I was to this world. Yet over time, I grew accustomed to it, learning the rhythms of the city, the names of the shops, and even a few faces. I’d walk the cobblestone streets and marvel at the glow of the faelights, the hum of the city’s magic, the warmth that seemed to cradle Velaris even on its coldest nights.

But even though I’ve adapted to this new life, I never truly chose it. I’m here because the fates made me, a decision stolen from me the moment I was dragged to Hybern. With no family to ground me—Feyre’s duties as High Lady, Nesta’s self-imposed exile, and Elain’s fragile retreat into the comfort of her plants—I’ve been left to find my way on my own.

Almost.

There is one person who’s been there for me. Cassian, with his easy smile and ridiculous sense of humour, has gone out of his way to make me feel welcome. Whether it’s pulling me into conversations, inviting me to training, or simply listening when I needed to vent, he’s somehow always been there, his presence steady and warm. He never makes me feel like a burden, or like I’m less for struggling to keep up in this world I never asked to join.

So when I hear the knock at my bedroom door, the heavy, rhythmic sound that could only belong to him, my heart tugs with a mix of irritation and relief.

“Go away, Cassian!” I call out, though there’s no real force behind it. I curl tighter under my blankets, fighting the urge to stay hidden in their warmth, in the comfortable darkness. I want to stay here forever, to pretend the world outside doesn’t exist, that I’m still just a human who never stepped into this tangled, chaotic fae world.

“Nice try,” he says, his voice muffled through the door. “But I’m not leaving.”

His determination stirs something in me—annoyance, but also a flicker of comfort. I sigh, closing my eyes, but the silence stretches on, tense and unyielding. He’s waiting me out, and we both know it.

I don’t answer, and for a second, I think he might give in and leave. But instead, the door creaks open, and I hear the heavy thud of his boots as he steps inside.

“Sorry, but I’m not letting you wallow,” he says, coming closer. I peek out from under the duvet and catch sight of him—standing there, arms crossed, his expression firm but gentle. His dark hair falls messily over his forehead, and his eyes, deep and intense, hold that same unwavering warmth I’ve come to rely on.

I grumble, “Cassian, go away,” my voice muffled beneath the blankets as I bury myself deeper, trying to escape the world outside. But he ignores me, of course. A quiet sigh reaches me before he crouches beside the bed, level with where I’m hiding.

The sight of him, even through the haze of my exhaustion, is almost enough to make me forget everything weighing on me. Cassian, with his wild, shoulder-length black hair half-tied back in a casual bun, his jaw dusted with scruff, and those hazel eyes that seem to hold sunlight and earth all at once. He’s massive, every muscle defined under the soft shirt he wears, and even at rest, his wings—massive and powerful—seem to radiate a silent promise of protection. He’s handsome, but in a rugged, arresting way that’s so different from the polished, refined beauty of Rhysand or the quiet, haunting allure of Azriel. Cassian is warmth and strength, solid and real, and even without saying anything, he fills the room with a sense of unbreakable steadiness.

“You can’t stay hidden in here forever,” he says softly, his voice gentle yet firm. The words slip through my defences, wrapping around me like an anchor, steadying me in a way I don’t think anyone else could. He holds my gaze, his expression so earnest it makes my chest ache.

A scoff escapes my lips as I try to pull the duvet back over my head, though there’s no real force behind it. “You wouldn’t understand.”

His eyes darken for a moment, a flicker of hurt he quickly covers with a smirk. “Maybe not,” he says quietly. “But I know what it’s like to feel out of place. And I know that hiding never helps.” His tone is soft, but there’s something so raw in his voice, an honesty that chips away at the walls I’ve built around myself, brick by painful brick.

He lets out a small, quiet laugh, and the sound is like warmth spilling over me, reaching places in my heart I’d thought long-buried. “You can’t hide from me,” he murmurs, reaching out to tug the blanket down, just enough so he can see my face. His eyes search mine, tender and steady, and for a moment, everything else falls away. It’s just us in this room, his presence a steady, comforting warmth, like a fire on the darkest night.

“Come with me,” he says, his voice softer now, almost a plea. “Just for a little while. I have something I want to show you.”

His words stir something fragile inside me, something I’ve been trying to ignore. There’s a gentle hope in his eyes, a quiet, unspoken promise, and despite myself, I feel that hope awaken in me too, as small and tentative as a candle flame. I sigh, tossing the blankets back, and swing my legs over the side of the bed, shivering as the cool air prickles my skin.

“Fine,” I whisper, barely audible. “But just for a little while.”

Cassian smiles, a soft, genuine expression that lights up his entire face. He extends a hand to me, his palm broad and warm, and I take it, feeling his roughened fingers curl around mine with a reassuring firmness. He leads me through the quiet halls of the House of Wind, his grip steady and grounding as we walk. I’m in nothing but a simple nightdress, my feet bare on the cool floor, but with his warmth beside me, I don’t feel the chill.

He stops before a set of tall, glass-paned doors that lead to a balcony, the curtains drawn tight. Without a word, he reaches forward, pulling them back with a gentle, sweeping motion that makes the light of the stars spill in like liquid silver, illuminating the room with a soft, ethereal glow. He glances back at me, a small, almost shy smile tugging at his lips as he leads me outside.

The night air is crisp, and a gentle breeze stirs the loose strands of his hair, catching the faint glimmer of stars reflected in his hazel eyes. “Look up,” he murmurs, his voice soft as a whisper.

I lift my gaze to the sky, and my breath catches. Above us, the stars are falling—silver and white streaks of light arcing across the heavens in a breathtaking, shimmering cascade. It’s Starfall, the legendary event that fills the Night Court’s sky with magic, as if the stars themselves are dancing for us. The sight is beautiful, overwhelming, like the world itself is pouring out light and life to remind me of something I’d forgotten: hope, beauty, wonder.

“This,” Cassian says, his voice barely more than a murmur, “is why Starfall matters. It’s a reminder that even after everything, there’s something beautiful left to hold onto.”

I turn to look at him, my heart tightening as I meet his gaze. Cassian watches me with a warmth and tenderness that slips past my carefully constructed walls, cutting right to the raw centre of everything I’ve been trying to hide. I feel a lump building in my throat, heavy and tight, and before I can stop it, my eyes fill with tears. I haven’t cried since all of this happened, haven’t allowed myself to feel what’s been buried, too afraid that if I let even a little of it slip, it would all come crashing down.

But here, with Cassian standing so close, so steady, his presence strong and unwavering, something inside me breaks. My breath hitches, a sob bubbling up before I can swallow it back. The first tear spills over, and then another, until the tears are streaming freely down my face. I try to turn away, to hide it, but Cassian steps closer, his expression softening with understanding.

And then my knees buckle. The weight of everything—of the losses, the terror, the forced transformation—becomes too much, and I sink, my body giving out under the flood of emotion. Cassian’s arms catch me before I can fall, and he lowers us both to the floor of the balcony, his strong arms wrapped tightly around me, supporting me. I cling to him, fists curling into the fabric of his shirt as I bury my face in his shoulder, finally letting it all out.

The stars keep falling around us, casting their ethereal glow across the balcony as Cassian holds me, his hand gently stroking through my hair, murmuring quiet words of comfort I can barely make out over the sound of my own sobs. His other arm is solid around me, like an anchor keeping me from floating away on the tide of my grief and confusion. I feel the warmth of his hand as it trails down my back, grounding me, reassuring me that I’m not alone.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, voice rough but gentle. “I’ve got you. Let it out; I’m here.”

I don’t know how long we sit there, with me sobbing into his shoulder, clinging to him as though he’s the only real thing left in the world. His hand never stops stroking my hair, each touch soothing, melting the ache in my chest little by little. Gradually, the sobs turn to quiet gasps, the tears slowing as I breathe in his scent, warm and familiar, a mixture of leather and something uniquely Cassian.

When I finally pull back, wiping at my tear-streaked face, he watches me with a gentleness that steals the breath from my lungs. There’s no judgment in his eyes, only understanding and a tenderness that makes my heart ache with something I can’t quite name. He brushes a stray tear from my cheek with his thumb, his touch warm and steady.

“There you are,” he says softly, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. His hazel eyes hold me, like I’m the only thing in the world he sees right now, and for a moment, I almost believe that maybe I’m enough—just as I am, scars and all.

“There you are,” he says, his voice soft, a quiet warmth in his gaze as he brushes another tear from my cheek. His thumb lingers, a gentle stroke against my skin, and it feels like he’s holding something precious, something he’s afraid might slip away if he’s not careful.

His eyes—those warm, hazel depths flecked with amber—search mine, and I realise he’s looking at me in a way I don’t think anyone ever has. As though he sees past everything, past the pain and the shadows, to a part of me that even I’ve forgotten was there. His hand rests against my face, grounding me in his presence, and I lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his palm against my cheek.

A strange sensation unfurls in my chest—a tug, an ache so deep it almost hurts. It’s as if something invisible has been there all along, waiting, and now, with every beat of my heart, it snaps into place. The bond. I feel it, so powerful and certain, weaving itself between us, binding us together in a way that feels both foreign and achingly familiar. My breath catches, and I can see it in his eyes too, the moment he realises what’s happened. His expression softens, the smallest flicker of wonder and relief breaking through his own surprise.

“Do you feel it?” he whispers, his voice almost trembling as he searches my face, his gaze so full of awe and love that I feel like I could drown in it.

“Yes,” I breathe, barely able to speak around the emotion swelling inside me. It’s overwhelming—this sensation of being tethered to him, heart and soul, in a way that makes me feel more whole than I’ve ever been. I don’t know if I’m crying again or if it’s just the intensity of the moment, but I feel a tear slip down my cheek, and Cassian’s thumb gently brushes it away.

For a heartbeat, we’re just staring at each other, neither of us daring to move, afraid to shatter the delicate, perfect thing we’ve just found. But then he leans forward, his eyes locked on mine, and I feel his breath against my lips. Slowly, achingly slowly, he closes the distance, his mouth brushing mine with a gentleness that steals my breath.

The kiss is soft, heartbreakingly tender, like he’s pouring everything he feels into it—all the care, all the patience, all the love. His hand cradles my face, his fingers tracing small, soothing patterns against my skin as his lips move over mine, unhurried and soft, as if he has all the time in the world. I melt into him, letting the warmth of the bond settle around us like a blanket, wrapping us in something that feels as ancient as the stars.

Cassian’s other arm slips around my waist, pulling me closer, and I feel his heartbeat against mine, steady and strong, grounding me. He pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against mine, his eyes fluttering open to meet my gaze.

“I never thought…” he murmurs, his voice breaking slightly as he searches my face, his expression so open, so vulnerable, that it makes my heart ache. “I never thought I’d find this. That I’d find you.”

A shaky breath escapes me, and I reach up, threading my fingers into his hair, feeling the softness against my skin as I hold him close. “You saved me,” I whisper, my voice barely audible, a truth that I hadn’t fully realised until this moment. “In more ways than one.”

He smiles, a soft, beautiful expression that makes my heart stutter, and then he kisses me again—this time with a little more certainty, a little more passion, as if he’s making a promise. It’s gentle, heartbreakingly sweet, every brush of his lips over mine conveying the depth of his love, his commitment, and the quiet, fierce protectiveness that’s always been there.

When we finally pull apart, he cradles my face in his hands, his gaze so warm, so tender, that I feel my heart swell in my chest.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers, his voice rough but full of certainty. “Not now, not ever.”

And as I look into his eyes, feeling the bond humming between us, I know he means it. I feel the weight of his promise settle around me, grounding me, filling the empty spaces in my heart with a warmth I never thought I’d feel again. And for the first time in so long, I believe that maybe, just maybe, I’m home.

ACOTAR Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 12th Oct 2024

TAGS:

@lilah-asteria @maleficmuse @fanficscuziranout

#bat boys #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #cassian x you #cassian x reader #cassian x y/n #cassian fluff #cassian smut #cassian angst #cassian acotar #acotar cassian #cassian acosf

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apricot-blossomss · 29 days ago

Note

Hellooo can you write a fic with Apollo x reader where he has to convince his father to grant her immortality so that they can get married, and later in the story their telling they’re kids how they fell in love and please make reader a daughter of poseidon. Thank u💋💋

☛ apollo asks his father for fem!daughter of poseidon! reader's immortality & his uncle for reader's hand in marriage

☛ sfw

☛ changed it a bit, hope you don't mind!

"father, have i ever asked something from you?"

apollo was a young god. not age-wise, of course. but his appearance had always been that of a young man, and though he had lived for a millennia, his bright and youthful character had never made him look a day older than twenty-one. now, his palms upward as if in prayer, his eyes pleading, he looked even younger. his lyre he had placed before his fathers throne, where he, too, stood. not as a fellow god, but as a son.

"no, you don't ask. you just take" zeus mused, frowning at his sons defeated stance. the god looked as if he was about to fall to his knees and prostrate if he didn't get what he asked. whatever kind of spell you had on him, it was working. "but this you can't take, can you?" with a sigh, he rose and stepped down the steps of his throne.

"i love her," apollo breathed, green eyes shining with the intensity of the declaration. "what must i do to convince you? i'll do anything, father." he meant it. he was ready to face every obstacle and trial, to fight sny creature, endure every torture to be with you forever.

"anything?" his father raised his brows and stepped away from him towards the center of the throne room. the gold tinted windows, reflecting the sunlight off the walls, surrounded his son with a golden hue, as if emitted from his golden locks themselves. he was one of the most glorious and mighty gods in the pantheon. as the mightiest one himself, he of course knew how crazy love could make you. but an eternal life? he frowned. "for this one mortal woman?"

"what are you saying?" apollo asked challengingly but his father raised a hand to silence him. with a sigh, he stepped closer and placed an understanding hand on his sons shoulder.

"son, I know how love can make you feel. I know how a good woman can uh", he chose his words with caution, "twist the mind of any man. but she is a mortal woman. son, you may be head over heels in love, but think of all the men and women you have loved." he chuckled. "the number may rise close to mine. the way i see it, she's just a fling. you'll grow tired of her. marriage does that."

"don't project your character onto others," apollo replied coldly and the golden glass of his eyes hardened with a frown. he didn't like the way his father was talking about you.

his fathers eyes widened slightly. but he overplayed it with a fatherly chuckle, stepping away a safety distance or two. "out of all the ladies, why did it have to be this one?"

"don't worry about your brother. i will take care of him," his son replied immediately and with a confidence that zeus could only admire. he wouldn't feel overly keen to break the news of his lovesick son over poseidon's daughter to him. he doubted it would be that easy, though it had not been the original intent of his question.

"that wasn't my concern son," he said calmly and began to stroll next to the windows. "just... i get a beautiful woman messing with the mind. but this one... not that she isn't fairly pretty, but you can't say she's a beauty, not compared to the mortals that usually catch our divine eye. in comparison with them, she's plain. beneath you."

"how dare you."

zeus was surprised to find his son's furious eyes gritted teeth and clenched fists. his father's raised eyebrow only made the storm swirling inside apollo thunder. until he heard your soft voice in his head. yes, if you were here, you would tell him to calm down. then, you would snort and say that his father wasn't really wrong, you know? And he would lean over and press kisses all over your face, trying to convey to you just how wrong he was. and you would giggle and pull him towards your lips.

the thought of you allowed him to calm down for now, unclench his fists and change his gaze from a glare to a firm look of determination. "i don't care about your opinion on her looks. all i want is her. forever."

"and what if i say no?"

apollo felt his heart skip a beat. "i-" his voice trembled. the iron grip around his soul tightened and a desperation crept up, up his throat, out of his mouth. "i'll come upon the mortal realm a monster. i'll be a catastrophe, wage war against your worshippers until you grant me my wish."

he didn't dare imagine your reaction should you ever hear of those words. oh how you would scold him, how you would hug him, ground him to the earth. the longer he was away from you, the more he craved your touch, your voice, your reassurance. you would never condone the actions he was threatening his father and the world with, but he couldn't exist without you. that's why he held his fathers shocked gaze. "my arrows will wipe out all that pleases you, father, if you take her from me."

zeus was, contrary to what some would have you believe, not stupid. the only thing stopping him now from granting his son this wish was his stubbornness. but he had to recognize that you were not worth the war his son was threatening- at least not to him. "alright," he said begrudgingly. "if you manage to persuade my brother, i will grant you your wish."

the iron grip around his heart loosened and apollo felt like he could finally breathe again. a triumphant smile crept onto his lips as he picked up his lyre. he couldn't wait to get back and break the news to you, you, who had been so rightfully skeptical. there was only one obstacle in the way. your father.

☀️

poseidon let him wait, but that was just to make him antsy and apollo knew that. your father had known of the relationship for a long time for you would frequent the beach -this beach more specifically-for your picknick dates. no doubt the ocean and its inhabitants had informed him of his daughter's company. but this would be the first time the two men would get to talk about your relationship.

not that apollo cared very much for your or his father's approval. poseidon had never taken a great interest in you or your life, apollo didn't see what right he had to approve or disapprove of any of your choices. but you had sensibly reminded him that he should at least pretend to ask for your hand to not offend your quick-tempered father. so, here he was, as the last rays of sunlight, golden, orange and red, danced ontop of the surface in an ethereal display of beauty and poseidon emerged from the waves.

apollo rose from his sitting position to go over and greet him when your father stepped onto the fine white sand of your favorite beach. "uncle"

"apollo," poseidon said, sizing him up in suspicion. "you wanted to talk to me. is this about your relationship with my daughter?" when apollo simply gave him a nod, the god sighed and began walking up the beach, the younger god walking next to him.

"so?"

"i'm going to propose to her."

poseidon stopped dead in his tracks and turned around to face apollo, who stared him down without a hint of reluctance. the god knew that you were his nephew's latest favored mortal, but nothing could have prepared him for this. marriage? "you can't marry her, apollo," he said. "she is a mortal. you are a god."

"that doesn't matter anymore," apollo replied and resumed their walk.

"need i remind you of your past relationships with mortals?" poseidon argued. "your lovers have a strange habit of dying or turning into vegetation, you can't deny that."

the other god didn't answer. of course, he had pandered the risk for a long time, it had haunted him every time you weren't in his sights and the worry could only be forgotten when you were there, wonderful as you were, and kissed them away. the truth was, he had nothing to say in return.

"did you tell her about the risks involved?" poseidon pressed and the question drew an ironic laugh from the sun god.

"she knows of the risks involved. you may not know because you didn't care but she is smart and she always has the upper hand. she decided to be with me, and when i had worked up the courage to talk to her about them, tell her being with me was dangerous, she only smiled because she, of course, already knew." he locked eyes with your father who had fallen silent. "she can make her own decision. she has made her own decision."

poseidon's eyes narrowed in realization. "you didn't come here to ask me for her hand."

"no," apollo said coolly. "i came here to ask you to respect her decision, whatever it may be."

apollo had expected another protest, maybe even a fight, but, as unpredictable as ever, poseidon nodded hesitantly. "fine. do you want to ask her now? because I think she is heading our way"

as soon as he saw you in your white and blue dress, smiling brightly and hurriedly approaching him on the beach, all the stress and uncertainty of the last hours washed off of him, leaving behind nothing but love and excitement. your father had left, and like a little child, he ran towards you to lock his arms around your waist. you shrieked in surprise when you were lifted clean off your feet and into the air by your lover who spun you around with the brightest smile you had ever seen.

"good news?" you asked when he set you down, still holding on tightly onto your waist. your lover settled for a simple hum and leaned down for a kiss, but your hand got in the way. only reluctantly he opened his eyes and lightly kissed the fingers blocking his mouth. your eyebrow was raised and he knew that you knew. "apollo, how many lives did you threaten to make this happen?"

☀️

"dad?"

"hm?"

"how much do you love mommy?" your son asked, laying on his fathers chest, just having finished his bedtime song. you were closing the nursery's window and looked over at your boys expectantly. it had been five wonderful years of marriage, yet just a small part of what would be your immortal life with the person you loved more than anything.

"that's a good question, darling. how much do you love me, apollo?" you smiled and walked over to them, running a gentle hand through the golden locks your son had inherented from his father.

a grin flashed over your husbands face and he reached out to you with one arm, the other one draped over his son's shoulders. "i love you from the upwards most point of the sky down to the depths of tartarus. so much that years would not be enough time to sing all the songs I have composed in honor of our love. so much that aphrodite cried at our wedding, do you remember that, sunshine?"

"of course," you laughed and let him pull you closer. "i love you too, my love" apollo came up to meet you for a sweet kiss. his lips tasted of the apple cake you three had made together today, a baking session that resulted in dough-stained shirts and a messy but delicious and only slightly burned cake.

"eww," your toddler squealed and trashed in his fathers arms, causing the two of you to break the kiss. apollo pouted jokingly at his little boy who pouted back. "why do you kiss mommy so much?"

"'cause mommy wants to be kissed,” his father retorted and ran his fingers over his sons tummy in a way that had him giggling and kicking his feet. "and now, you're going to bed so i can kiss mommy some more."

"nooo," your son protested but apollo swiftly tucked him in and ruffled his blond hair. you took a hold of his small hand and pecked his little palm, still sticky from the dough. he hadn't properly cleaned himself up.

"good night, darling," you hummed and followed your lover out of the room, turning off the lights. now, the only thing illuminating the room was the night light in the form of a sun.

just when you had closed the door, warm lips consumed yours once more. you smiled into the kiss and buried your hands in his hair as apollo deepened the kiss. head angled back, back against the doorframe, and an apple-tarte-kiss. "what about another one of those?" he whispered in between kisses before moving on to your neck.

"that doesn't sound bad." your hands sneaked around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. "doesn't sound bad at all."

#greek mythology #greek gods #greek gods x reader #greek mythology x reader #apollo x reader #apollo x you #apollo #apollo fluff #apollo x fem! reader #apollo x mortal reader

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i-drop-level-one-loot · 9 months ago

Note

Hun something else I want to ask is if you would do a hybrid dragon Yan..? Forgot to mention it in the last ask because I forget ideas a lot <3

-from the one anon who said to use 3 names you like :)!

P.s I’ll probably refer to myself as this forever now hun

I'm sorry this took so long!! Here it is:

CW: mild violence, video game logic

Yandere!Dragon x GN!Reader

The winds in the mountains were cold enough to slice open skin and leave blisters.

Traveling up towards the sky was (Reader), a warrior known throughout the lands for their incredible feats, climbing up the snowy pass towards the dark splotch on their map.

The dragon's lair.

Only human in appearance, (Reader) had slaughtered almost every type of monster and fiend in the continent, sending fear through all living beings. They were rumored to be immortal, since they seemed to be capable of recovering from any wound they received, no matter how critical. Whatever life threatening hit they took, and no matter how certain their death seemed to be, (Reader) would only black out, waking a few hours later. A warrior without a past, without a home, who only lived to kill.

Slaying a dragon would be the last creature on the killer's list, having already defeated deities and apocalypse level threats. It wasn't that a dragon would be harder than killing a god; they just hadn't gotten around to it.

In the grand scheme of life, dragon slaying would be a side quest.

(Reader) doubted that the battle would be difficult in any sort of sense; aside from their incredible physical attributes they also had legendary gear such as "the Ring of Absolution" which was forged from the tears of a Golden Warrior. That ring alone made it impossible for enemies to block their attacks or use "break out" to parry.

Upon finding the cave and entering recklessly, (Reader) wished that someone had told them sooner:

That "when you're at the top, the only place to go is down.."

A blast of fire knocked their helmet off their head as the heat pushed them back. Shocked (and a little excited) the warrior raised their vampiric sword. Inside the cave, a giant red and golden dragon sat posed, muscles tense and eyeing the invader with intrigue.

"Who are you, to enter my home?" His deep voice sounded more confused than offended. And when (Reader) pointed their weapon at him in response, he chuckled. "Adorable little human, if you wish to live a long life, leave this cave now, and I shall spare you."

(Reader) shouted, igniting a glowing light around their body, then lunged, slashing at the beast.

To the dragon's surprise it hurt.

"Foul little thing!" He snarled, attempting to blast the human with another bolt of flames (this time not as a warning) but the fighter rolled out of the way, effectively dodging the attack. (Reader) thrust again, angering the dragon when he found that he could not block the sword, the blade passing his harder scales and hitting his soft flesh despite his guarding.

Amidst the rage and frustration a new emotion began forming within the centuries young being; respect.

There were no dragons he wished to associate with, there were no creatures that approached him of their own free will. He was alone. For a very, very long time. For he was not just a dragon..

He was Targov the Malicious.

A dragon of legend, ender of nations, killer of kings..

And his health was slowly being chipped away by the steel of a mortal.

(Reader) did not know who the dragon was, only that this was the closest location for a dragon nest.

"Small human.. I have a proposition for you."

The warrior paused, tilting their head as they waited for the dragon to continue.

"You have impressed me, and you have earned my admiration. So I offer you a chance at life eternal: become my mate, and ascend to a higher state of being.

You shall never want nor need for anything. I will be your willing servant for all of eternity."

It wasn't the first proposal (Reader) had received, yet it was certainly the first from a beast. They stepped back a fraction as though his words caused them to stumble. His request sounded so genuine that it almost killed their blood lust.

Almost.

Disappointment and betrayal filled the dragon's eyes as (Reader) suddenly threw their sword like a spear, lodging it into Targov's chest, a feather's distance shy of his heart. But even that only further fueled the growing need he had for the mortal. And the obvious solution to the warrior's resistance was to make the choice easier for them.

Targov flew forward, but instead of attacking like (Reader) had predicted, he grappled the human in his talons and continued faster, propelling them both out of the cave and into the sky as he built speed.

The wind jostled the surprised human about like a rag doll as they rose higher into the atmosphere. Their ears popped painfully, but they could still hear the roaring laughter of the dragon.

"HA! Now what do you say, human?! Shall you be mine? Or shall I drop you?!" He held the adventurer loosely by the fabric visible under their armor in an attempt to frighten them. But what he saw next made his heart falter.

His eyes widened as (Reader) smiled triumphantly, raising a dagger while maintaining eye contact, and sliced off the part of their outfit Targov held onto, willingly allowing themselves to fall.

It was just a fall.

Yeah, it would hurt. It would hurt like a son of a bitch, but (Reader) knew they wouldn't die. They never did.

However, their near immortality was something that Targov didn't know about.

Before his emotions could fully form into separate feelings, Targov dove, recatching the little human, now with a more secure grip, and flew back to his home, his heart beating a billion beats per second once it restarted.

(Reader) was thrown to the floor by the dragon seconds before being blinded by a bright flash. The dragon was consumed in a bright white glow that illuminated the cave, morphing into a more human appearance, with deep golden skin and red hair. His horns and claws still remained, but as (Reader) could see clearly from his lack of clothes, was now mostly human. He charged towards (Reader), face twisted in his confusing mix of emotions. Anger, shock, hurt, feelings his adrenaline wouldn't give him time to categorize as he closed in on the confused human.

He hoisted (Reader) up by their neck.

"You'd really rather die than be mine?!" The enraged dragon screamed.

Struggling to breathe, the warrior grabbed one of his scaly hands while trying to smack his face with their dominant hand.

The glint of their ring caught Targov's attention, who recognized it instantly. He had been alive for a very long time, and killed many a god during his rebellious years. Sharp teeth sunk into (Reader's) fingers, the dragon biting their hand lightly, suddenly, earning a shocked cry from the struggling human. Targov dropped (Reader), pulling the ring off their finger with his fangs as he did so.

The warrior didn't notice their missing ring until they regained their composure and attempted to attack the humanoid dragon, who blocked their attack perfectly fine.

Targov wore the ring on his smallest claw.

"I see I was right about you.." His deep voice chuckled, but (Reader) couldn't tell if it was out of amusement or fury. "A fellow God killer.. who better suited to be my mate?"

He grabbed (Reader's) wrist, and despite it's low speed, the ring prevented (Reader) from dodging.

"Welcome home, my mate."

"Even if I have to break you, I will have you. And you will learn to love me."

#sorry this took so long #ive been so busy #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere dragon #yandere dragon x reader #gn reader #video game logic #short drabble #dragon hybrid #dragon x reader

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knightotoc · 10 months ago

Text

I always liked the riddle scene in the Hobbit, but I never knew what it really meant until I read the original just now. The main idea is lost in adaptations because you need to get into their heads. I knew it was a high-stakes version of a kids' game and a mythology/fairytale reference, but it still seemed pretty random and hard to believe, since these two are the last characters you'd put in a battle of wits.

But the scene is actually about how people's environments shape the way they think. Bilbo and Gollum are both so flustered that they can only think of what are, to them, very easy riddles. They keep feeling ashamed that they can't think of something harder, and confident that the other guy will get this immediately. But the other guy is stumped, because his mind works differently, because he lives in the opposite environment.

Solving the riddles isn't actually about being smart, but being empathetic in Bilbo's case and nostalgic in Gollum's. Bilbo is only able to comprehend Gollum's nasty way of thinking because they are in his lair, amongst the dark and fish. Bilbo is repulsed and even unable to guess Gollum's final riddle, only winning by luck (he stutters "I need more time" so badly it sounds like the correct answer, "time").

Gollum is only able to imagine Bilbo's pleasant answers by thinking back to his past, when he was a normal guy who lived with his grandmother near flowers, eggs, and cats. In this book, he isn't confirmed to be a former hobbit, but the parallel becomes more tragic with this retroactive backstory. Gollum indirectly tells Bilbo that time is the only thing that separates them, and Bilbo does not understand this. If Bilbo had the "more time" he requests, hundreds of years here in the dark, he would become like Gollum, wisdom at a terrible price.

The main theme of The Silmarillion is how immortality affects people. Elves are fated to live forever in the undying lands of Valinor. Humans instead have the "Gift of Ilúvatar," the great mystery of an unknown afterlife. Elves are counterintuitively jealous of this gift, since death allows humans to escape the music of Arda, the fate which defines all creation.

Bilbo and Gollum, who were so different in life that they could barely follow each other's thoughts, also end up with the opposite deaths. The elves take Bilbo to Valinor, while Gollum goes to the mysterious afterlife of the other unchosen mortals. (At least two elves, Lúthien and Arwen, chose this fate for themselves out of love for a guy. But generally this is the unchosen/fate defying route for souls to go.)

So during their first meeting, Gollum is the one who understands the destructive power of time. But in the long term, Bilbo will come to understand time as an endless font of wisdom and peace, since nothing can be destroyed in Valinor. We don't know how or even if the mortal afterlife experiences time; if Gollum's pessimistic definition would hold true, or if that, too, would eventually change.

#the hobbit #gollum #bilbo #lord of the rings #the silmarillion #tolkien

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potionpeddlerpatchy · 1 year ago

Text

word count: ~18.2K

paring: God!Shinso x f!Nymph!Reader

warning(s): dubcon, marking, slight impact play, somnophilia, oral (f!recieveing), creampie, gods as always being manipulative and cruel.

authors note: hello there, I know I promised this much sooner than it is being granted but as I am sure you can see by the word count, this kind of got away from me. This is actually a sequel to Plucked Flower! And when I was discussing with the lovely @/melodramaticmura about who would be which god, it seemed rather appropriate to have Shinso be the god of sleep. And well, I wanted to make a stand-alone fic of that, perhaps even make a series on it, but it was too tempting to have him steal away Sero's prized nymph so here we are. So please, let Shinso guide you into a peaceful slumber~ 🔮

A long time ago, Gods ruled the world.

Everything that the mortals could see, touch, and know were all controlled by the Gods who blessed them with their divine skills and talents. But, over time, the mortals became more dependent - more greedy - with their reliability on these seraphic creatures. As the demands of the mortals they created, and thus cared for, grew to be overwhelming and abundant, they knew they could not stay within their mortal plane any longer; for they were meant to be treated as divinities, not as servants.

And for once, in a rare moment of solidarity, the Gods worked alongside each other to create a home for which they could call their own; an empyrean realm that only they could have access to, which contained all the splendors known to man and even more. A dwelling where they can find peace and tranquility, and to be finally removed from the demands of the mortals; to finally have the undivided devotion they so craved. For it much easier for a mortal to obey the wishes of a God, if they came they came down to them in a beacon of light and gold.

Serve away they did, the mortals, tending to their temples and bringing forth gifts upon their alters; all the while they would lavish in their heavenly realm of gold and marble, to feast upon delicacies, to relish in the prosperity that the mortals provided to them, and indulge in one another; especially if that indulgence was at the expense of a mortal, to provide them with the vanity and sense of superiority they wished to continue to grasp onto.

Through all this splendor, however, it was easy to grow bored. Hanta, like most Gods, grew bored.

For a God could never cherish anything for too long. An immortal life always paired itself with dissatisfaction; for how could a God truly value anything if they did not have a finite time to have it? How could they enjoy splendor if they have not known poverty? How could they value life if they could not know death? And how could they appreciate anything, if all they wanted was more?

Living forever took the beauty of life away. All the love and heartbreak seemed so meaningless after a while when one could find no reason to hold onto it, that in time it could be replaced by a new adventure, a new thrill, and a new body to make claim to. Why keep something when you could easily abandon the old, and seek out something new?

And despite the many claims he so sweetly whispered within your ear, the many reassurances and acclimations of love, Hanta finally grew bored of you.

You knew it was bound to happen; there truly was only so much a nymph can do to claim the interest of a God. You knew the thrill he found, the infatuation he grew of you, was within the chase of claiming you for himself; the cat-and-mouse game he so perfectly cast and you so perfectly played into was the thrill he wanted within that moment.

Of course, there was the thrill after he caught you. How he laid you upon his bed day in and out and claimed his prize in any way he could; whether that be with sweet words, soft kisses, warm and gentle caresses, or have you on your knees to worship his aching cock, to then have it drag in and out of your tight hole as you scream his name for the heavens to hear.

It was to fill his ego, to have the most prized and beautiful creature to claim as his own. To have complete and utter control held over you, the utter and undiverted devotion that he pulled from you constantly as you obeyed and worshipped him however he pleased. To relish in, not only your body but the jealousy of the Gods around him as they grew envious of his little pet.

And once he lost interest, once his fellow Gods grew unbothered and uncaring of his treasures, he would find some other way to gain a boost to his ego; regardless of the feelings he may hurt along the way.

You had to give him credit though, it took him much longer for him to lose interest in you than what every other god that filled the heavenly realms, and even yourself, thought. Many said a few weeks, some said a few months, and you thought perhaps a year. Though it was hard to tell given the way time seemed to matter little the more you stayed there, how it moved so quickly and yet not at all at the same time, to say how long before he lost interest but it was certainly longer than a year.

It was gradual too. Slowly, but surely, he left you alone in that small portion of the heavens he carved out for you. What started with him parting from you earlier some mornings, thus leaving the giant bed he shared with you empty, turned into every morning as you would reach for him only to be met with cold silk and loneliness to sink to your heart. And soon, those daily visits he would give to you so diligently, to allow you some much-needed company as you staved away your boredom, soon started to wane. How he used to share his meals, his laughter and companionship, started to bore him and consequently, he began to leave you with small scraps that were left behind the day before as he neglected yet another meal, and as the weeks progressed, leaving you hungry altogether.

Though despite all of this, he would still return to you at night; to lull you to sleep in his arms and whisper those sweet nothings into your ear until you fell into a blissful sleep. And it was when he stopped arriving in your bed at night that you knew he no longer cared for you. That those declarations of love were truly just empty words so he could use you as he saw fit, like many a god to a nymph before him. Now leaving you to try and find a semblance of peace all alone in a place you did not belong.

You had no other forms of company either for the other gods barely acknowledged you. Some were spiteful that you would tarnish their realm and way of life by simply existing there as if it was your fault you were placed there. Others tolerated you, though they preferred your silence, wanting merely to look at you and nothing else. Others… they wished to have you in more carnal ways; falsely putting on kind airs only to lure you into their trap - much like Hanta - though luckily none was able to do anything untoward before Hanta intervened; but now you knew not to trust them, and to avoid them altogether.

After Hanta abandoned you, you were left alone to fend for yourself. Granted the small piece of heaven that was made for you was beautiful, and gave you some semblance of peace knowing you would not be bothered here - to which you were eternally grateful to Hanta for such a gift - it left you more lonely than you had ever been in your life. Moreso than when you were cast out from your forest of birth by your fellow Anthousai and forced to find a home, and sisterhood, by yourself.

Because through those trials of loneliness and rejection, you did find a sister. One that loved you, that built a home with you, that kept you company in the best and most nurturing of ways; a companion you adored with your whole heart. And one you were tricked to abandon to come here.

For as lonely as your life got, at least you had her. Here, you had nothing.

You thought of her often, and the memories you shared together, as you lay upon the clouds of gold and splendor alone and unwanted. Thoughts of her made your lonely days more bearable as you reminded yourself of a time when you were wanted, where you were loved, and where you felt happy and fulfilled as you remembered the bouts of laughter shared between the two of you.

Though Nymphs were ageless, they could die in the mortal realm or transform themselves into the nature they were born to nurture. But here? You had no such release, bound to live amongst the gods until the end of days. And as they progressed, you couldn’t help but worry about your sister; you were safe, but was she? Was she still around in your little home within the mountains? Or was she now gone, lost to the passage of time?

Your worry grew tenfold when, one morning, you tried to remember her face and couldn’t. She was the only thing that tethered you to happiness in this cruel world you found yourself in; the only thing that brought you warmth as you were surrounded by coldness. Your heart could not help but sink with dread as you frantically tried to think of her face. You had to, for she was the reason your sanity was still intact. She was the reason your heart had not broken fully.

You couldn’t help but weep for weeks on end as you slowly realized you were forgetting her.

You knew you could not sit idly by and let this happen to you; to allow these cruel creatures to break your spirit out of amusement. You had to know, had to remember, for it was all you had left; and you were going to cling to it, to fight for it, for all eternity if you had to.

So you waited, with determination blazing your heart and mind, for the God - the man - who caused all of this. Knowing that at some point he will show up and grant you a visit. He would do so every now and then, seemingly almost out of obligation like an owner would for a pet they cared little for. You knew then, you could ask him for a favor.

It was hard to tell how long it had been, how long you had been waiting, but finally, the day had come when you were granted a visit from the winged God; the flapping of his wings signalling you, and thus filling your body with hope, as you heard him approach. Scrambling you got to your feet, unable to hide your excitement as you stood, as you waited with bated breath for him to appear.

Hanta brought with him a tray of food, many delicacies that the Gods would indulge in, ambrosia and wine, you were unsure if this was a way for him to apologize for leaving you for so long without a meal, but the proud smile he garnered on his face when he approached you was clear he felt like he was providing you with a gift.

And though you wished to scowl at him, wanting to allow him to know how unfair it was for him to leave you with little food and company, you knew you had to be your usual sweet self if it meant allowing you to get your way.

You welcomed him with open arms, clinging to him tightly as you knew he loved for you to do, as you babbled sweetly on how much you missed him, nuzzling your face into his chest as a sign of utmost affection.

You could feel him chuckle before the deep and mirthful sound could fill your ears, as he brought a hand to pet your hair “I miss you too, my beautiful flower.”

His gentle petting of your hair turned into gentle tugging, clearly wanting to have your part so he may rest and enjoy the meal he brought; guiding you gently to do the same and he passed you a goblet of wine; deep purple in colour a far cry from the strawberry wine he used to give you.

You sipped it gently as you listened to him regale tales of what had befallen him while he was away, some excuse as to why he could not visit you before now, as he indulged in your quiet devotion. Though after a while, noticing your lack of enthusiasm or want to partake in the glorious meal, he grew a little concerned as he leaned over towards you to pet at your cheek.

“What is wrong, my sweet love?” Hanta asked of you, moving to push a few strands of hair away from your face “You do not seem yourself.”

You found yourself bashful over his sweet gesture, almost surprised that he still held some tenderness for you. With a timid smile, and huff of a laugh you shook your head “No, no, nothing is wrong.”

“I can tell when you are lying, love” Hanta smiled back, ducking his head to look properly at your face; finding your reaction to him filling his sense of pride. “So please, indulge me”

You took the line he was casting, knowing now would be the only time you could possibly have to pluck the courage to ask him; shyly looking back at him as you tried to find the words, forever grateful for his patience as he looks upon you with tender eyes as he waits for you to speak.

“I was just wondering…” You finally began, “Seeing as I have a few myself these past few nights, if… if you gods ever dream?”

Sero scoffed at you, finding your question as silly and innocent as you were, tone almost condescending as he leaned down closer, a hand continuously stroking your cheek. “Oh my dear, of course we don’t. A God has no need for such childish things as dreams, those are silly things we made for mortals to keep them happy.”

You cannot help yourself from turning your eyes downcast at his almost brutal condescension. Taking a moment to compose yourself before you batted your lashes up at him; your wide and sad eyes a weakness you knew to be his when it came to you, as you asked him again, “Hanta, surely there are times when they are needed, even for a God. If what you say is true, if gods have no need for dreams that mortals do, then there is still a need. Therefore there is a God who provides these, and thus can help another God if needed.”

Hanta began to draw away from you, clearly figuring out where you were trying to lead the conversation. His eyes could not help but turn darker as jealousy began to cloud his vision of your wanting to seek out another god, as his grip upon your head grew tighter. “You want this God, is that it? The God that provides you these sweet dreams, you want him in your bed?”

You tried to shake your head as best you could, wincing at the slight pain he was now causing you, whimpering out weakly, “No, not at all! I only wish for you to warm my bed!”

“Then why are you asking me about him?” Hanta could not stop his voice from turning dark, not at all enjoying the fact that you would want to seek another god for any reason; were you truly ungrateful over all that he had done for you that you would find it inadequate?

Though you were not wanting to engage in his wrath, you could not help but become a little elated over the fact that there was a God of Sleep; and Hanta knew of him. But if you ever wished to find him, to be allowed to move freely to do so, you would have to calm, and flatter, the God before you.

“Because I need aid with my dreams,” you whimpered out, eyes turning glassy as they begin to fill with tears - another weakness you knew Hanta to have and for you to exploit. And you almost wanted to smile, to drop the act, at how quickly it worked.

You could see his eyes soften, his grip loosening, as he scanned your face; his other hand coming up to cup your other cheek as he began to fawn over you in concern. “Why? Have you been plagued with nightmarish vision? Have they hurt you?”

You shook your head, though it clearly was not enough to reassure him as his hands continued to stroke your cheeks in a calming manner. You knew you had him in the palm of your hand, as you allowed a few tears to fall from your eyes.

“Then why do you need to seek the Sleep God, my love?” He asked, voice still gentle as he looked down upon you, wanting nothing more than to cease those tears from falling.

“So I can remember my sister!” You blubbered out, and though the tears were falsified before they became honest and true as you reminded yourself of your sister; how the thoughts of forgetting began to cause those tears to fall more freely and stain your delicate face.

“Please, I left her behind for my love for you was stronger. I cannot help but miss her, and if I cannot go to the mortal realm to see her, then I wish to dream of her.” You choked out, as you grabbed hold of his hand, kissing his palm to try and sweeten him and his ego further. “Please Hanta, if you love me as you claim to do, you will allow me this small gift.”

Who was he to refuse you? His good, and obedient nymph. He couldn’t, not when you looked at him so sorrowfully. With a nod of his head, he pulled you into his arms, shushing you as he kisses the crown of your head.

“Do not cry, my love. I’ll take you to him.”

Though the heavenly realm proved to be a gift above all else, it was not shared equally amongst those that built it. Those whose gifts were heavily tied to the mortals, that dealt with the macabre that their lives would bring, were looked down upon by those whose talents were more serene. It was easier, and more harmonious, to live amongst those that gave love and song than those who had to deal with death and sorrow.

So they were banished to a realm seldom visited unless a favour was needed; a realm filled with darkness that lacked the treasures from above; the Underworld.

Hanta kept you close as you made your way down into the depths of the depressive world, carrying you within his arms and tucking your head into his chest to spare you from the horrors that await a long journey such as this. Needing to protect you, his precious flower, from a dangerous place such as this realm proved to be; a venture no nymph should find herself in, but he was willing to do this for you to cease the sorrow that had befallen you. At times, you yourself couldn’t help but whimper as you clung even tighter to his tunic as the wails of lost souls made your heart stutter with fear.

Soon his wings fluttered to a stop, gingerly setting your feet upon the damp ground, before a cavern-like area. The dark obsidian that lay jagged, almost broken, surrounded the open entrance of the cave and made you question if you should enter, for it seemed far from hospitable. Nonetheless, Hanta pushed you forward, forcing you to take the first step towards what you desired; knowing that he would not be wanted within the rooms of these lands

“Go on, my love” Hanta smiled gently, easing your fear and reassuring you of any falsities your mind could conjure up. “He will not harm you, and I will stay right here should you need me.”

With a tentative nod, you resigned yourself to your fate as you turned towards the lair before you. With a deep breath, your trembling feet began their stride toward the God who may be able to help you.

The corridor itself was long, lined with those jagged dark rocks and jewels, as you kept yourself small and away from it all as you continued down the winding passage; unsure if it would even allow you to find your way out of its seemingly endless path. A dim light, one of calming blue, rid you of any sense of hopelessness as you approached a room. The room was darker than what you were used to, but that calming blue hue filled the entirety of the space and allowed you to take in the surroundings.

It was more beautiful than you were expecting. An inverse of the pastel and gold that covered the heavenly realm, as dark marble and a silvery mist surrounded you; intricate furnishings with many a carving of stories long past deep within them. Despite the warnings, despite the claims otherwise, this place was not of ruin and decay, but rather of equal splendor that you have become accustomed to from the heavenly realm above.

In the center of all the strange but wonderful opulence sat a giant glass orb propped so beautifully atop of a pillar, woven so intricately like vines, of tourmaline. You couldn’t help but approach it, the alluring purple aura seemed to call out to you, reaching your delicate hand before you, nothing else crossed your mind that your desire to touch the orb's smooth surface.

“You’re a bold little one, aren’t you?” Hitoshi spoke, chuckling deeply as he took in your startled form.

You jolted your body towards where you heard the God speak, and looked upon his figure that sat on a simple, but elegant, throne of silver; mere feet past the orb. You felt heat rush to your cheeks, flushing them in embarrassment for being so engrossed by a crystalline ball that you failed to notice him. Sheepishly you lowered yourself to your knees - tucking your head close to your chest - as you bowed deeply to him to showcase your respect.

“I apologize for my rude intrusion,” you whimpered, knowing how fickle and quick to anger most Gods were, and hoping your little oversight of his presence would not cause his wrath.

“Rise,” He tells you, clear from his infliction that he finds boredom in your display of decorum, sitting more upright within his throne to regard your form with interested eyes. “And state your business here. For it is not every day a mortal like yourself so brazenly enters my domain.”

You nervously shift your weight from foot to foot, keeping your gaze downcast as you do as you are told; unable to not find his intense gaze unnerving. “I-I was hoping to seek your skills, to help me with a sorrowful plight I find myself enduring for I-!.”

His low chuckle made your shoulders tense even further, as the flush that painted your face grew darker. He raised a hand to cease your babbling from continuing; perhaps he found you childish if the condescending shake of his head as he leaned closer to you, was anything to go by.

“I already know what you are here for, little one. Merely wanted to see you squirm in nervousness for a moment longer.” He began to explain. “I already know who you are and your plight; the sad reality of the God of Sleep is that I know every mortal’s dream, and must endure the burdens that come with it.”

You can tell his words rung true, for as you finally gazed up at his handsome face you could see the dark circles that stained the skin under his eyes, his own sunken deep within his skull, you could tell he suffered the same nightmarish visions, the unease and sorrow, and the sleeplessness you, and the many mortals like you, may find.

“You wish to see your sister, for you are forgetting her,” Hitoshi continued, hand rubbing his forehead as he sighed, watching the elation come forth upon your face as you frantically nodded your head, knowing that now he must aid you in some fashion or else you would not leave him to be alone once more.

He stood from his throne, his height more imposing than you thought it to be, to stalk his way over to you and the crystalline ball you stand beside; shrinking away from him, you allowed him to pass you with little fuss. With a wave of his hand, the orb filled with a cloud of dark purple smoke. He beckoned you closer to him once it did, and you watched as the smoke slowly cleared away the closer you found yourself to the God and his crystalline glass; soon revealing your sister’s slumbering face.

“She dreams of you often,” He stated, standing aside to allow you the chance to look upon the image without distraction.

“She does?” You could not help but become overwhelmed with both joy and sorrow as you gazed upon her; elated to know she was still alive and dreamt of you. You just merely wished you could do the same. Tears formed in your eyes as you reached out a cautious hand to gently touch upon the smooth glass, to caress the image of her cheek. “It warms my heart to know that, thank you.”

Hitoshi allowed you a moment to stare, gaze looking upon you in question; pondering what he should do. Knowing of your current plight, one of abandonment and loneliness, he could not help but relate. He found a semblance of sympathy and empathy for the creature before him; for he too found seldom joy within the realm of the Underworld, being placed here and forgotten by the Gods that claimed to be his brothers. He could not help but wish to end your suffering, as well as his. He tried his hardest to garner a plan out of this small act of kindness he would give forth to you in your time of need.

“You certainly act brave,” he called out to you, tone more gentle than before, “but I know you wish to dream of her yourself though pride is stopping you from asking me such a favour. For the Gods that surround you only grant one if you provide something in return.”

He pauses, allowing you a moment to take in his words; speaking once more as he could tell your attention was back on him rather than your sister, watching as your brows furrowed in question, knowing he must speak carefully in order for his plan to work

“I can assure you that I wish nothing in return,” he stated plainly, as he moved to sit on his throne once more. “The end of your sorrowful anguish, to cease the added pain and suffering it causes me, will be payment enough. I only ask for you to visit me here, should you wish to take upon my offer, for it shall be easier for me to provide you with the dreams you want from my throne.”

His response took you by surprise, as you gazed upon him in shock, overwhelmed by his apparent kindness that you could not do anything for a moment but stand there frozen in place - much like the few marble statues that decorated his home.

“Does that suit you?” Hitoshi asked, a brow raised in question as he watched you with amusement.

You nodded your head in a rapid fashion as you scurried your way back to him; unable to stop yourself from taking hold of his hands and squeezing them as you knelt in a bow before him once again; “God of Sleep, truly I wish there were more words I could say and express to you my gratitude and thanks to your kindness, but alas I cannot, but please know from the bottom of my heart that I am so overjoyed to hear you speak those words….” You continued profusely babbling to him your thanks and you kept his hand tightly within yours.

“Hitoshi, you may call me Hitoshi.” He simply smiled, finding your devotion towards him at that moment welcomed for it rarely happened, relishing in it for a moment longer before removing your hands from his. “I await our next visit, but for now it is time for you to depart.”

You nodded your head in understanding before you bowed your head to him once more in respect, then gingerly walked down the few steps from his throne and towards the long, jagged corridor of obsidian without another word or complaint.

“I will send my trusted friend Tamaki to fetch you,” Hitoshi called out to you, a smirk playing on his lips. “So there will be no need to bother and bring Hanta back with you.”

Hitoshi was true to his word, another surprising moment for you within a land of selfish and deceiving Gods, for when you woke the next morning - alone once more in your vast bed of silk - you caught sight of a man standing within a dark wooden gondola, seemingly waiting for you. Clearly, there was no one else he could possibly be there for, as this small portion of the heavens was made for you, a portion that seldom had visitors.

Slowly you rose, eyes straining to properly see him, though you knew he was here for you the man situated himself so far away from your slumbering form that you couldn’t help but have a twinge of doubt.

‘Was he perhaps timid?’

A strange notion, and trait, for a God to possess but the closer you approached him, in your barely covered form, the more you began to realize it was true. Another handsome face, as all Gods possess, though his pale skin and dark hair were a striking contrast to the bright flush that stained his face and pointed ears; clearly he was bashful over looking at you in such a state - his eyes never looked upon for more than a brief second before darting away.

“A-are you, Tamaki...?” You asked him, timidness within your own voice as you softly called out to him, trepidation filling your being as you continued to approach him; after all, you had been fooled before by false displays.

“Y-yes I am!” You could see his eyes snap up to you as he stood taller as if bringing forth his name meant bringing forth his station and thus made him want to stand with pride. “I am the Ferryman of the Underworld, I was sent here to get you.”

You watched as he paused, giving you one more look-over before averting his eyes again, letting out a small cough of discomfort over your barely covered body; a reaction you were not used to getting, though perhaps he too was guarded for the fear of unleashing the wrath of a fellow brother was not something he wished upon himself.

“...Though perhaps I should allow you to dress before bringing you before Hitoshi,” he finished, clutching tighter the giant wooden oar he carried and was using for support

Your face flushed in a similar red to the God before you as you nodded your head, perhaps it would have been wiser to dress before approaching the strange presence that entered your little domain, but curiosity always did get the better of you. You nodded your head politely before scurrying off to find suitable garb to wear.

You admired Tamaki’s patience, and his courteous nature for it took you far longer to find a dress that would keep you warm as you stayed in the cooler domain of the Underworld; after all, when Sero brought you here, dressing you in fine clothing was the least of his worries. Every time you looked over at the Ferryman, his eyes were never focused on you, but rather daydreaming as he gazed upon the soft pastel colours of clouds above.

You approached him again once ready, and the kind smile he cast as he gently helped guide you into his gondola put your racing heart at ease; you could not say with certainty that you could trust him, but as he allowed you to sit and get comfortable before slowly descending his vessel down towards the domain he called home you couldn’t help but think that maybe you could.

He was a wonderful guide as well as you made your way back into the treacherous waters and dark world that was the netherworld. His tone, and demeanor, always reassured your every need; from when your shoulders would tense as the gondola grew a little too close to the sides of a cavern, or how your hands would grasp the side of the vessel tightly as the descent moved a little too quickly, or when the screams of the wailing souls became almost unbearable causing you to cover your eyes - he would gently reassure your fears every time.

“Do not fret, fair nymph,” Tamaki’s soft voice rang out above the screeching souls that lay below you, effectively stealing your attention away from their pity. “They will pass in due time, they merely wish to make those suffer alongside them; once they see you will not befallen to their tricks, they will leave you be.”

“They will..?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, unable to properly hear yourself as you continued to try and close your hearing off to the cries of the lost souls, scooting yourself towards the middle of the gondola to avoid their reaching hands.

Yet he still heard you, as if the deafening keenings meant nothing to him, as he nodded his head; using his long oar to steer his vessel down a long stretch of water, away from that of the river Styx. “And do not fear them, as long you are in my care they will not harm you nor snatch you from my boat.”

Slowly the gondola came to a stop, the motion as smooth as the silvery water below, in front of a familiar obsidian cave - the entrance still as daunting and inhospitable as you remembered it being the day before, even if now you knew you were wanted within those walls. He helped guide you, with a courteous hand, up from your seat and out of the dark wooden craft he had grown accustomed to; only pulling his hand from your grasp, and thus support, once your feet were firmly planted on the ground before you.

“Thank you, Tamaki,” You said, eyes gleaming with genuine sincerity as you gazed upon him, your hand taking his once more to give it a small squeeze of gratitude. You almost giggled when you noticed his cheeks began to flush once more, as his bashfulness took hold and caused him to turn away from you yet again and focus his attention elsewhere.

“I shall be here to guide you back once you are done,” he muttered, his voice never before sounding so small since you met him, as he tugged his hand from your grasp. “Now go. Hitoshi can become impatient if you make him wait too long.”

With a nod of your head, you turned to face the mouth of the cave, dread setting in once more as you swallowed thickly the anxiety that began to bubble up within you; praying that you had not caused the God of Sleep ire for taking so long to get to him as you made your first steps back to his throne.

The blue light guided you as before, calming the gnawing apprehension that made a purchase into your heart for you felt as if you were a lamb being led to slaughter despite the generosity and kindness you were shown merely moments before. Tamaki had said that he would not have harm be brought before you, therefore he would not lead you to harm. You were not a lamb being led to slaughter, as you so felt at that moment, by merely approaching and being within Hitoshi’s lair.

Just as you did before, with timid and apprehensive steps, you stepped through the threshold of silver smoke and jagged obsidian into the room he resided and called home; eyes downcast, feeling smaller than ever before, you took gingered steps to where he sat upon his pearly throne, kneeling before him as a mortal should before a God. His imposing figure, one that loomed over you, caused you to lower your bow further until your head laid upon the cool marble your feet once stood upon.

“Not as bold today, are we?” Hitoshi chuckled, releasing you with an unhurried motion of his hand, his eyes staying with your figure as you moved to stand before him.

He watched as you simply shook your head in response, gaze still downcast as if too nervous to meet his eye; a frown formed upon his lips in disappointment over your timid display, wishing for you to be more excited, more jubilant like you were in your last meeting. Though perhaps it was because of your actions yesterday that you felt the need to be more apprehensive of your every move, not wanting to accidentally offend or upset him.

Hitoshi hummed, finding your continued lack of response telling of his assumptions. He stood from his throne and gracefully sauntered down the few imposing steps before it, regarding you and your smaller form for a brief moment before he ushered you to follow him, to which you did so dutifully; to come before the crystalline ball and its swirling clouds of violet haze.

Once more, when the smoke began to tire of its own billowing dance and wished to retire away, images of your sister arose causing you to sigh out in quiet joy and behold her sweet and slumbering form.

“You may stay for as long as you wish,” Hitoshi whispered out, finding that if he were to speak louder he may spook you from the charming trance he had put you under, as he placed his hand upon the small of your back to guide you closer to where you truly wished to be.

He almost chuckled at how you merely nodded in response to his generosity, too engrossed with your sister to think of anything else; even the gracious God providing you such a spectacle. Perhaps if he was in a worse mood, he may have been offended, perhaps even telling you to leave. And yet, he found it rather amusing, endearing even. He could tell why you were plucked from the mortal realm and kept amongst the gods as a pretty rose to gaze upon for eternity - you were certainly an interesting creature, at least as far as he could tell.

“Enjoy it for as long as you may like,” he spoke again, settling down once more onto his throne, chin within his palm as he gazed at you wondering if your response would change. He chuckled to himself when he saw the small rise and nod of your head; clearly too enraptured still to even think of a single word.

Time was frozen still for you, at least that was how you saw it, when you gandered down upon your sister; eyes filled with warmth as your fingers delicately outlined her face with thoughts that raced through your mind. You wondered what she dreamt of, what the days ahead of her looked like, and if she remembered you. A faint smile painted your lips as you thought of all the possibilities that could befall upon her.

Though time at that moment was still for you, it still marched onward.

For Hitoshi, he watched you for hours. His chin never left his palm, as his eyes just softly gazed at your form; curiosity further seeped into his being the longer you stayed. He was almost disappointed when he had to have this little visit come to an end, something he could not help but find odd as no words were spoken between the pair of you. Yet he could feel he missed your presence already.

“The sun is about to rise, little one,” he called out as he sat more upright upon his throne, “which means your sister will wake, and thus we will no longer be able to see her in my crystalline orb.”

“Has it really been that long?” You softly answered, voice barely above a whisper as your hand dropped from the item in question back to hang limply at your side.

“Afraid it has.”

“Then I thank you kindly for allowing me such a prolonged gift as this,” You said, casting forth to him a smile of gratitude; though despite your efforts not, you could tell sadness seeped through. You bowed once more, kneeling upon the ground you had spent hours standing upon. “It was more than I could have hoped for.”

“You are welcome to come back here if you so choose,” He watched as you stood once more, an amused smile gracing his handsome face. “For you have been nothing but a quiet and respectful guest.”

“I-I can…?” You questioned, hands coming forth to clasp together nervously; wondering if his amusement was genuine due to your company or if he had a trick he wished to play and had accidentally shown his hand.

“I have not had a more peaceful rest since the millennia started.” He began, gracefully taking a pause so he may walk over to you. “If having you here to admire your sister means I can have more moments of levity like this, then I would be a fool to cast it aside.”

Hitoshi took your hand in his, bringing it forth to place a tender kiss upon the back of it before turning it over to place a small golden bell within your palm, before letting it go.

“Should you ever wish to return, ring this bell twice. It shall signal to Tamaki that you will be in need of his services, and thus will return you here.”

It was the jubilation on your face, he could only assume, that was what made him wish to provide you this sanctuary in the first place. Your smile beamed forth a ray of light as you gazed up at him, clasping tightly the small gift he had provided to you close to your heart.

“Thank you!” You gushed, feet almost stumbling over themselves as you didn’t know if you wanted to go forth to him and take his hand to showcase your gratitude, or if you wanted to leave to ensure further rest for this God before you (as well as showcase your prize to Tamaki, the man the bell was tied to).

In the end, you chose to scamper away, your gratitude and declarations of thanks echoing within the long and winding hallway. Hitoshi merely shook his head, breathing a sigh of mirth as he returned to his throne; his mind raced with thoughts of you. He wondered if he would get to see more moments of your bubbling personality showcased to him, more so than the small snippet he was blessed with at that moment.

Ultimately all of his thoughts led to one conclusion, that he hoped you would ring the bell very soon.

Despite your desire otherwise, it took you a little more than a fortnight to call upon Tamaki once more; not at all for the reason that you were no longer interested in visiting the Underworld once again and indulging in the gifts brought before you, but rather you would feel horrible if you were to summon a God such as he to take you to and fro on whatever whim you had. Knowing he had far more important tasks to uphold, not simply to take care of you.

Yet, Tamaki greeted you with that same kind smile, one that grew wider when you apologized for being such an inconvenience as you clambered into his boat.

“Nonsense.” He chuckled, using his oar to steer his vessel. “Your company is a highlight to my day, a far better kind than the souls that screech for my attention. So you need not worry about calling me forth.”

“Is that so?” You hummed, leaning forward towards him with a smile, placing your chin in your palm.

“Yes.” His face flushed that familiar shade of red, yet his eyes remained on you - clearly less shy than before as he grew more accustomed to your presence. “So, call upon me whenever you wish, for I know Hitoshi would prefer if you did as well.”

His eyes then looked away from you to instead focus on successfully steering you to where you were to be; back to Hitoshi. You took the time to survey the surroundings, as it was clear the ride was to remain in silence until the end, taking into account all the small jewels and gems that littered the dark walls of the nether realm. A small glimmer of beauty and hope in an otherwise bleak and dreadful world as you continued your descent.

Though this time, after the boat had slowed to a stop, a visitor was there waiting for you.

Hitoshi stood tall, making the daunting entrance of his lair seem small and almost meek. He approached the gondola with purposeful steps. His eyes glimmered with mirth as he nodded his head towards his old friend Tamaki before he bowed before you.

“As always, you have arrived safe and sound.” Hitoshi’s deep voice mumbled out, as he stood to his full height once more. “I am grateful to be able to have Tamki provide such a service.”

“As am I.” You managed to get out, voice meek, as you looked over at the ferryman in question. “He certainly puts me at ease and makes this descent more palatable.”

“Yes, well, I cannot argue with such a statement,” Hitoshi mumbled again before presenting his hand for you to take. “But a ride is not why you are here, now is it? Come along, little one, we cannot keep Tamaki from his duties any longer.”

You nodded your head, giving one last grateful smile towards the God who brought you here, before gingerly placing your hand upon his; finding Hitoshi’s gentle strength almost dizzying as he lifted you from the gondola with ease.

With practiced ease, surely muscle memory for him at this point, he guided you through the caverns towards his home; not at all bothered by the sharp stones that jutted from the walls or the rocky terrain as you were. You leaned into him often, finding his presence and body a needed support, as you tried to keep up with his quick pace.

You wished that the path toward his throne room would be more kind, less abrasive, and less aggressive toward those that wished to seek his help. But much like those gemstones hidden amongst the cavern walls of the Underworld, once you got through all the dread and unpleasantness, you were greeted with something wonderful. And the vast room he called his own always seemed to comfort you in some way whenever you entered it.

This time, when you passed through the haze of silver smoke that always permeated the air around his threshold, like a door to keep his privacy intact, you already found your sister’s slumber face illuminating the giant crystalline ball you had grown so fond of.

Hitoshi allowed you to break free from his hold of you to dart towards your sister, following after you at a much more leisurely pace. He could not blame you for your eagerness to see her, after all her slumbering form was a beauty to behold in and of itself, however he did wish he could hold you and your attention just a moment longer before it was diverted elsewhere.

Nevertheless, he had a plan today. One that he knew you would adore above all else, even more so than any gift the Love God had ever given you previously, or since you entered the realm of the Gods. Unhurried, he followed behind you, taking in the image of your admiring eyes for a moment longer before deciding to break the peaceful silence that had befallen.

“Do you wish to visit her?” He asked, placing his hand to the back of your neck to stroke the hair that laid there.

“More than anything…” You whispered, smiling fondly at the image before you, an action you had grown accustomed to doing. “However, such a wonder cannot happen, nor be granted to me while I am here.”

Hitoshi chuckled, an almost sinister grin forming upon his lips as he gazed down at you, lowering his head to whisper in your ear, “What if I told you that you could?”

He delighted in the way your body shivered at his action, the way your eyes finally were diverted from your sister and thus focused upon him; that he finally was the one to capture your whole attention.

“Can you?” You breathed out, having lost all the air within your lungs and body over his words; unable to breathe at not only the possibility of perhaps being able to hold your sister in your arms again, but the price it might cost for such a miracle.

“Dreams are an amusing thing, little one.” Hitoshi smiled, taking hold of your shoulders so you could face him fully. “A reality that is not fully our own, a realm in and of itself that is not beholden to the same rules as ours.”

He paused, and watched as your little brain tried to understand fully what he was saying. Finding it adorable when your brows furrowed together in concentration as you tried to put the pieces he was alluding to together. He brought his hand up to pat your head, stroking his palm down your hair soothingly as he continued.

“I can control that realm, a gift given to me by my mother.” He muttered those words, his smile growing wider as he saw your eyes light up in hope. “If you allow me your trust, to give forth your sleep to me, I shall be able to connect your dreams together and thus allow you a brief moment to be together again.”

It was almost comical to him how trusting you were, how you would so easily give up something so precious as the ability to command your own sleep to him. How you practically threw yourself into his arms, in both desperation and shock that such a gift could exist, as you quietly begged him for that chance.

“Please Hitoshi!” You said, hands clinging tightly to his tunic as you felt your eyes well with tears as your feelings overwhelmed you. “I beseech you, please, take me to her. I would ask nothing more of you, of your skills, gifts, or time, if you allowed me this. My anguish would cease being your burden if you allowed me to speak with her just this once.”

You turned your face away from him as you felt the warmth of your tears begin to stain your cheeks. Wanting to lessen your humiliation, you focused back on the image of your sister, and you asked him once more to take you to her, even if only for a brief moment.

Your naivety, your utter trust in him after all you had known and learned from the Gods, made Hitoshi’s smile grow even darker as mischievousness tainted it. You were so willing to eat from his palm, that you had no time to properly think if his intentions were pure. So blindsided by the love of your sister and desire to see her, you would do anything - even if it meant being at his mercy.

He almost felt pity for you, such a sweet creature like yourself being taken advantage of by a more powerful being.

Almost.

“Hush, little one,” he cooed, almost in condescension, as he pulled you against him once more to dry the tears that fell so freely from your eyes. “I would have not have offered such a gift if I had no intention of giving it to you.”

He continued to brush your tears away as he listened to you hiccup and sob, trying your best to form a response to him and his kindness but failing; shushing you once more as he pulled your head to rest against his chest, allowing you a moment of reprieve to calm yourself down.

“Now, now.” He began after silence had enveloped the pair of you for a breath. “Whenever you are ready, please lay yourself down in any place you deem comfortable within my home.”

He allowed you to pull away once more, watching as you sniffled and nodded your head, your hand wiping away the last of your tears as you looked about the abode. Deciding that his throne would be the most comfortable spot to choose if you were to lay down. However, you could not bring yourself to gain the courage to sit upon his throne. Instead, you chose to lean your body upright to sit comfortably against it, your head settled upon the arm of his chair to further ensure that you would slump over once sleep overtook you.

Hitoshi wanted patiently as you made your decision, finding your bold action to use his throne in some fashion entertaining, a refreshing outcome from your usual polite and timid nature. He approached you once it was made clear you were comfortable, kneeling down to your eye level as he brushed your hair away from your face.

“Close your eyes for me… there we are, that’s good,” he whispered out, eyes turning a pale silver, like the mist that surrounded his room, before he brought his hand up to your face. “Now, I must warn that you may feel nauseous once being thrust from one realm to the next, do your best to focus on where you are headed, for it will help, alright?”

You nodded your head in acknowledgment over his words, shifting one last time in a more comfortable position. “Alright.”

“Good, and do not fret, I will watch over you”

With that, his hand made contact with your brow as his power surged through your being. Your eyes rolled back into your skull, as you felt your consciousness being violently thrust from this plane, this realm of existence. You fought back the turning of your stomach, the urge to fetch up the bile that sat in your stomach, as you gripped tightly to your robes; to ground yourself into the reality you wished to be in most, a dream with your sister. Abruptly, your world and soul stopped moving, lurching you forward to fall into a soft and grassy field; a meadow that reminded you of when you used to run through and create flower crowns with your sister, a long time ago.

You turned, and turned, and turned, trying to find your bearings as well as anything of importance or familiarity within the giant landscape of flora you had been transported to. Your eyes tried their best to adjust to the bright light that had been thrust upon you from a sun that was nowhere in sight; but after all the disorientation that you had suffered, your mind eventually cleared. Gone was the haze that clouded it, and now you could finally spot, far in the distance, a sight that made your heart warm. Your old home.

You picked up your skirts with a watery smile, doing your best to hold back the tears of happiness that were about to fall, as you began to run towards it. Elated was how you felt for at last you made it back to the one place you felt joy within your long life. Back to the place where you felt love and adoration; back to her.

When the rundown cabin, filled with trinkets and coin from travelers long past, became far more than a small speck on the horizon, your voice came to you. Shouting your sister’s name, screaming out your presence here, as you continued to sprint as quickly as you could to her.

You caught sight of her after a few calls of her name, her head poking out from the bedroom window you used to share. Your pace quickened, far past your own abilities but you found little use to care of the pain when the person you loved most was in view, as you called out even louder; an arm waving to allow her to notice you promptly. You became jubilant as the realization of who you were came across her face. You almost tripped over your own feet as laughter began to pour out of you, as you took in the actions of her throwing open the cabin door with abandon, her not bothering to care of any damage she caused, before she ran to meet you.

The embrace you shared with one another was so forceful and tight that it caused you both to fall to the ground, pain and soreness subsided by the sounds of each other's laughter over finally being together once more; to hold one another and feel whole again. Sobs soon mixed in with the laughter, tears of joy understandably shed, as you both clung onto each other tightly. You were the first to pull away, certain that she would not disappear once doing so, wanting to see her face fully for the first time after all these years.

“There you are,” you breathed out, pressing your forehead against her with a relieved sigh “Oh, how I missed you terribly! My thoughts while we were apart were only of you.”

“As were mine!” She huffed out a laugh, bringing forth her hand to dry the flowing tears from her eyes. “I have been dreaming the same dream for years, hoping that one day you would return back to me.”

“I’m sorry it took so long!” You sobbed, leaning into her to wrap your arms tightly around her, burying your face within her shoulder as you babbled out another apology; finding comfort as she gingerly played with your hair as she used to do whenever you were upset.

“There is no need to apologize, my dear sister.” She uttered, resting her head atop yours. “All that matters right now is that we are finally together. After so long, after so much time apart, we are together again.”

She felt more so than saw your head nod in agreement, taking yet another moment to bask in the warmth that was your glow (as you did the same) before she patted at your back, an action that caused you to pull away slightly. With a warm smile, she caressed your cheek, humming in delight when she felt the heated skin upon her fingertips as her eyes searched yours.

“Come with me,” she finally spoke, standing with an outstretched hand for you to take. “Let me bring you home.”

With an ecstatic nod of your head, you agreed. Tears formed in your eyes at the mere thought of entering the home you once shared with her again as you took hold of her hand, allowing her to pull you to your feet. Together you walked alongside each other, pulling on each other’s arms, as nostalgia washed through you both - like a warm blanket on a winter’s eve - as you remembered a time when this was the existence you lead.

Meanwhile, as you slept, Hitoshi dutifully watched over you; finding your slumbering face rather beautiful as you allowed him to keep guard. He wondered if you were also so trusting, so naive about the world and the nature of Gods. Surely you must be if a few simple words of affirmation by another would allow you to be swallowed up by him; to follow willingly into a world not your own. Even more so, trust a God like him, after staying in this unforgiving place for so long.

Regardless, he stroked your cheek with a fond smile, knowing that this would not be the last time he would see you, to relish in your serene beauty, and enjoy your company; already his mind had raced with the many ways he wished to spend it.

The Gods within the Underworld barely get any company, as the Gods in the realm above them would rather steer clear of their domain; a sense of haughtiness as they turn their noses up at the prospect of spending their precious time with Gods they deem lower than them.

Therefore it cannot be helped that Hitoshi grew rather fond of you so quickly; a meek and sweet little nymph like yourself was more than a welcomed guest in his domain. Truly he would do anything in his power to have you keep visiting him and wanting his company. And, being the naive little thing you were, you so easily gave him the control he needed to ensure you would come crawling back to him; the power to manipulate your dreams and sleep.

He wasn’t going to be cruel, after all, he wanted you to trust him and to do so of your own free will. At first, he only took an hour or two of sleep away, a simple ploy set in action for whenever you arrived back to him, he was able to easily coerce you to stay even longer; to catch up on the rest you had missed. Of course, you did not mind in the slightest, for that merely meant allowing you the chance to spend more time with your sister in the small way you could.

Once you woke, you always repaid him in kind, indulging him further with your awakened company; answering his questions, both of simplicity (like the times you recalled what your favoured the most) and those of a more personal nature (like the many stories of your previous life within the mortal realm). As well, you allowed him to showcase to you more of his domain and home, taking his arm with little fuss as he regaled the histories of the items that surrounded you, explaining to you how everything worked within the Underworld; from the souls, Tamaki would bring through, to the decisions Shigraki would make to keep things in order, to his own duty of keeping mortals well rested so they may continue their devotion to the many Gods they adored.

At the end, before he set you free to leave with Tamaki, he would always find the small pleasure of kissing the back of your hand; heart thrilling as you would cast before him your sweet smile before bidding adieu. He longed for you to gaze at him so lovingly, to hold and keep that precious smile with him forever.

Though, after a while, your stays with him became less frequent. Hitoshi used to be blessed by your company almost every other day. Before he knew of it, those frequent days together dwindled down to merely a couple of visits every few weeks. Now? Now Hitoshi would be lucky if he got to enjoy your presence once a month. And the worst of it was, whenever you finally did show your pretty face, there never was an explanation as to why you were gone from him for so long. With a wave of your hand, you would brush it aside, as if starving him of your companionship was nothing to be of worry, as you approached his throne.

Truly, when all was said and done, this was all your own doing.

Hitoshi simply could not have you vanish like the silver mist that enveloped his throne, he doubted he could survive if you did. So, he just had to make things a little bit worse for you; to slowly deprive you of more and more sleep. And the times he would gift you with slumber, they would be filled with dreams unpleasant and cruel.

He just had to have you crawl back to him, to stay with him. He simply had to.

It wasn’t as if you did not want to visit Hitoshi, you wished with every fiber of your being that you could; you really did. You enjoyed the time spent with him, both he and Tamaki were very kind and always sought to make you comfortable - never to leave you bored or feeling unwanted. Unfortunately, someone else decided for you that visiting was no longer to be.

Hanta had a renewed interest in you just as you were starting to get comfortable within the God of Sleep’s domain; monopolizing your time more and more, almost unbearably so, with his presence and touch. As if he was making up for lost time, doing his best to renew the interest he once captured so easily. Though he claimed otherwise, you knew that his actions were simply made from jealousy; he wanted you to be his pet, whom he called upon at any moment, to give your utter devotion to. Now your devotion seemed to be turned elsewhere, and his pride simply could not have it.

He couldn’t keep hold of you at all times; duties had to be done, and other men and women needed to be blessed by his presence and touch. Only then were you able to slip away from his hold to visit the Underworld. Though every time you entered, you felt more and more ashamed of who you were, about the marks that were left upon your skin, and the reasons you could not see Hitoshi more frequently. Embarrassment always filled your being when you felt the Sleep God’s eyes upon you, taking in your dishevelled and messy form, knowing you were a sore sight to see; and you could never find the strength to confide in him as to the reasons why.

You simply wished to forget all that transpired while away, even if for a moment.

That moment of levity would simply be that; a moment. For once you returned to the clouds above, Hanta would be waiting for you; wings twitching in agitation as the scowl upon his beautiful face would cause you to shrink in fear. Anger, agitation, would fill his being at your deliberate disobeying of his rule to stay where you were until he was to return; dragging you to the bed you shared. Though you tried to plead with him that it wasn’t nearly anything his mind could conjure up, that he need not be so harsh with you, it never sunk into him - merely falling onto deaf ears. Despite protesting thus, he would bend you at the waist, pinning you to the silk sheets so you could not move, or fight him, before he would fill you with his cock; ignoring your squeals of pain as he stretched you completely. To slap his hand upon your skin until your skin was red and raw as he teethed marked you with the last mementos of his lovemaking. Actions never ceased until your voice became hoarse from the pleasured screams, and your body became limp with his marks of strength; making it clear to any gods nearby that you were his.

After which, the vicious cycle would continue.

Moreover, to add insult to the injury you were currently plagued with, you could not find a sense of slumber; a moment of rest and the peace that paired with it. Oh, how you wished you did, you wished for a moment of sanctuary from the torture you were in, and yet it never came. Always just slipping past your fingertips, like mist in a dense fog. Hanta and his insatiability, much like when he first claimed you for his own, took from your body and sense of strength and repose needed to even sit up. It left you ragged and begging to melt into the clouds that surrounded you; chanting silently to the God realms away to grant you what you desired most. A reprieve from this world, no matter how small it was to be. But once you felt it ebb at the corners of your consciousness, Hanta would ultimately rouse you to continue his ravishings.

The fair few times you could allow yourself to sink into the inky abyss of slumber, your being finally being so worn down it had no choice but to relent to it, the dreams within it would be far more cruel than the fate currently abusing you. Dreams so conniving and hurtful, of fears locked so far away, that you not help but wake with tears in your eyes; whimpering and wailing sobs into the vastness of the heavens around you. With your cries growing more intense when you found your only comfort against all this pain and suffering was Hanta and his touch; one that would ultimately lead to salacious things.

You began to resent him. His voice, his touch, his presence even remotely near you. You wished he had never caught sight of you, never gave you all those gifts, and most important of all, never brought you here to the heavens. As the days passed you felt stuck in an endless cycle of hell, one seemingly by his own hand. You were once so exuberant, full of life and wonder, and now you could feel yourself wasting away into nothing. No longer able to skip and frolic into fields of flowers or clouds, your body was too weak; barely even able to lift your arm to grab hold of anything. Your eyes, ones that were bright and filled with wonder as they looked upon the many majesties of the world, could barely be forced to open; a stinging pain would follow as any glimmer of light would cause you pain. And your head. Your poor head that would read and listen to the stories of old, now suffered from severe throbbing pain as your mind pulsed against your skull - trying to free itself from the prison it found itself in.

You could not escape it, nor Hanta - especially after he had taken the golden bell gifted to you as his own. Your life seemed to be regaled to misery as you lived every waking moment in pain. You wished that death could find you and turn you into an everlasting rose, then be subjected to spend more time with him; the cause of all the suffering.

Hanta could sense it all too. The indignation that filled your very being and thus cast forth onto him. He became less patient with you, his temper flaring considerably as he found your irritability insufferable; finding your whining and aversion to his help a scornful cross he felt he had not deserved, not after all he had done for you. The rage within him would burn even brighter whenever you would implore him to allow you to see the God of Sleep, to ask for his aid in the matter that had been plaguing you instead of him. Bitterness filled him over being replaced by a God lesser than him; for being a fool to allow you the freedom to visit that domain and become dependent on someone other than him.

“Hanta, please!” You wept, palms coming to press against your eyes to relieve some of the unbearable pressure behind them. “I cannot keep going like this. Can’t you see that I am in pain? That I am suffering?”

You removed your hands from your eyes, your feeble attempt to try and soothe the pain found in your body futile, having them fall into your lap in defeat. You looked over at him, back turned to you, as he tried to ignore your wails once more in favour of sharpening the many golden arrows he possessed.

“I thought you loved me!” You called out again, trying in vain once more to garner his attention, the declaration working as you saw his shoulders tense.

“I do love you.” Hanta began, turning to give a look of scorn when you tried to argue otherwise “But it is clear that your reliance on another God caused you this misery. If you stayed here, and allowed me to take care of you, you would not have found yourself in such a state.”

“Take care of me?” You huffed out a laugh in scorn, hands balling into fists over his claims “You left me here. Abandoned me once I no longer suited your fancy, with no food, drink, or company. Alone is a place where I did not belong! How could you blame me for wanting to be cared for!”

“You could have asked for more!” Hanta stood, his wings twitched as he did his best to control the fury bubbling within him “Have I not given you everything? Have I not provided you splendor that no other creature, mortal or otherwise, could have dreamed? Have I not carved out of the heavens a home for you? You are acting like a petulant child, one that has been so spoiled that they cannot find it within themselves to have an ounce of gratefulness or gratitude.”

You could not help yourself, could not fight the urge otherwise. How could he claim all those things about you, to compare you to a mollycoddled child, when he was the one that would abandon anything once he got bored. To pin the pain you are under as something of your own fault, and not bother to care about trying to lessen the burden.

��I hate you.”

The words slithered out in a vengeful hiss, marking them as true and honest as you looked away from him in scorn; finding yourself so disgusted by him that you wished not to acknowledge his presence. You had never said those words before, never been pushed to think that way of anyone, even the nymphs that casted you out. Yet, you felt the need to let that be known and you sat and seethed.

You did regret those words after you spoke them, finding a moment of levity as your mind cleared from the anger and pain it had been placed under. Though it was too late. A final straw had been broken, after weeks of being placed under the pressure of a bend, within Hanta.

He marched towards you, to where you sat so pitifully, to take hold of your arm; not bothering to care over the cry of pain he inflicted as he dragged you to your feet to follow him to the edge of the heavenly clouds that you called home. Bringing forth the golden bell from his tunic to hold it menacingly over the border that kept the Gods in the heavens, and the mortals within the earth.

“Apologize at once.” He demanded, tugging you even closer to him to cease your struggling against his hold “Say that you are sorry or I will drop it.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I had not meant to say! Please Hanta, believe me! I could never hate you! Don’t do this!” You begged, falling to your knees as you clung to his waist

But despite obeying, despite always doing what he said like the sweet-natured nymph you were, it did not matter. In a moment of vexation, a moment to showcase his power over you, Hanta still did not relent (as he always did to your cries) as his fingers let slip the golden bell. Allowing it to sink away for all eternity.

You collapsed in a heap, fingers digging deeply into the cloud below you, as you wept and sobbed; despite the pounding in your head telling you to stop, you couldn’t. Your one saving grace, the one thing that brought a semblance of happiness to you in this realm was gone. And with that revelation came the doubt that you would ever see your sister again nor get a decent night’s rest until the end of time - or until your ultimate banishment from here, whenever that mercy may come.

You couldn’t help but kick and scream when you felt Hanta’s arm wrap around you as he picked you up from the ground. Using the last morsels of strength within you to try and fight him off and away, for his touch was the last thing you ever wanted upon your skin.

But what was the strength of a nymph when compared to a God?

He laid you in bed, and though he tried to join you, to hold you close and whisper those sweet nothings in your ear as he knew you used to love, you kept pushing him away. Instead choosing to curl up into a tight ball and weep until sleep ultimately took your anguished form. All Hanta could do was watch as guilt gnawed at him - latching onto his soul like roots of a tree that took purchase into the earth - as he reaped what he had sown.

The anguish you felt is what finally caught Hitoshi’s attention towards you and your ever-growing plight, for it had seeped through into your dreams when your body finally tired out from all it had been fighting. He could sense your pain, your sorrow, the distress that filled every ounce of your soul; it caused his breathing to labor as he could not help but panic over what had transpired. He rushed to look into his orb of dreams to search for you and to understand what had transpired for your soul to give up and to become on the verge of death; something impossible for a creature like you to do within the heavens.

You were always surprising him, weren’t you?

He wanted to find a semblance of admiration over you achieving such a feat, but all he could find was fear over the thought of losing you. Your blurry appropriation finally came forth to him within the haze of smoke so familiar to him, blurred lines turned clear as he turned more of his attention towards you; and subsequently, the memory you had gripped so tightly to. That of your precious gift, your golden bell, being taken away from you.

Histoshi wasted not another moment. Summoning forth Tamaki with urgency, as he began to move through his labyrinth hurriedly; meeting the other god at the riverbed to his home. Tamaki could tell from the distressed look within the other God's eyes, that something was amiss.

“Go gather the nymph.” Hitoshi instructed, voice hardened with ice as he tried to keep his composure “And bring her back here to me, as swiftly as you can”

“Has something happened?” The meeker God questioned, worry gathering within his heart as his eyes scanned Hitoshi’s features.

“Go and get her.” Hitoshi reiterated voice hissing at the accidental stalling his friend was causing. “And do so swiftly! Though, be wary of that Love God, for he is watching over her.”

Without another word, or hesitancy otherwise, Tamaki nodded his head before hastily setting his vessel in motion. There was something wrong, for his oldest friend would not have treated him so coldly, would not be so fearful of a wasted moment. Something had happened to you, and Tamaki feared it was something awful.

Bravery was never something that came naturally to the ferryman, he was far too meek and worried of causing ire from his fellow brothers and sisters; especially those few that lived among him. He felt it course through him as he ascended to the heavens to retrieve you, determination settling within his heart as he made up his mind to bring you to the Underworld for good.

Tamaki was quiet when he approached your little piece of heaven; heading the advice to be wary to ensure a safe recovery of you. Though when he appeared, he found you surprisingly alone. You lay curled up like a baby bird in its nest upon your bed, but he knew it wouldn’t be for long. For the Love God was clearly only absent to gather your items of comfort, and with his powerful wings to swiftly guide him through the air, Tamaki knew it was only a matter of moments before he would return; there was no time to dawdle.

Gently he scooped you into his arms, taking note to cradle your weak head gently against his chest, as he carried you to his gondola. Setting you upon the bench you so eagerly used to sit upon, he allowed you to rest as he took you back down to the Underworld; to your new home.

You awoke, mind filled with a disorienting haze as you tried to recall how you ended up blessed enough to find slumber. To garner a restful enough sleep and avoid the terrors your mind could come up whenever you were in that realm. However, that wonderment of how you could have become so blessed after so agonizingly long was drowned out by confusion as your brows furrowed as it tried to comprehend what this odd weight upon your body was.

It was familiar to you, like an old friend, one soothing and reassuring. Yet at the same time, it did not feel like something you knew. The hand that stroked your hair, and scratched gently upon your scalp in a manner so gentle, was not one that you knew. The arm that held you so tightly to a broad, lithe, chest did not feel at all similar to the one you cuddled up against night after night.

It wasn’t familiar to you, thus you could only assume that you were no longer in the arms of Hanta, but rather someone else. Now that you were in this hold, you were afraid you could never go back to what you were used to. How you preferred the more tender hold of the arms that embraced you, how they held you with your comfort in mind, not to keep you trapped; a hold that you could not help sink deeper within. Finding the soft tunic a welcomed reprieve to warm and bare skin as you clung to it.

Though despite your wanting to sink back into the inky abyss that was the realm of slumber, your mind did not allow it; far too concerned with whoever was holding you. Though it felt nice, something about it still did feel right. Your brows furrowed more so together as you began to push against the embrace, your tired eyes burning as they opened to gain clarity of your situation.

A frightful gasp left your lips as you looked upon a familiar pair of violet eyes, those accompanied by the almost charming dark circles of deprivation. Despite your best efforts to pull away from him, knowing just how irate Hanta would be if he were to catch you with him in such a manner, Hitoshi kept you in place; his arm tightly digging into your sides to keep you against him.

“Hush, and be still little one,” Histoshi shushed you, hand moving from your hair to stroke upon your cheek in a manner meant to calm you further. “Your body is still destitute of slumber, it cannot handle your struggles.”

You relented, body falling more limp within his hold, though you fought the urge to fall back into his chest; wanting answers to the racing questions that ran through your mind as they managed to take precedence over your want of sleep.

“How…. how did I get here?” You finally asked, voice cracking and sore from your wails just hours prior, as you kept your gaze downcast. “From what I can recall, I needed the bell you gifted me to summon Tamaki; one of the few that knew how to get to you”

“As you know,” he began with a sigh, tugging at the ends of your hair in an effort to get your pretty eyes to gaze back at him; disappointed that you wouldn’t relent and do so, “I can feel all the anguish that the mortals are beholden to as they sleep, you are no exception. I felt all your pain and suffering, and I could sense that you were unable to escape the grasp of the Love God. So, I figured the only course of action to end your distress that I could provide was to gather you myself so you may get the rest you sorely needed.”

He watched as you buried the palms of your hands into your eyes gently, trying in vain to allow your muddled mind to come to terms and piece together what he had just said. After a moment of silence, he pulled your hands back down to rest in your lap.

“Are you alright now?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper, as he watched you nod your head. Dissatisfied over your lack of response he placed his forefinger under your chin to force your head up to face him. “Are you sure?”

“Y-yes.”

Your meek response was good enough to appease him as he let go of your face to instead pull you closer within his hold; his hand once more moving your head to place it against the crevice between his neck and shoulder. Hand once more absently played with your hair as he continued to soothe and strived to relax your body.

“Sleep, little one,” he mumbled into your brow, “Stay as you need so you may regain all that you lost. I promise to look over you.”

Instead of gratitude, instead of your body falling heed to his request, he felt your body shake as you silently sobbed. You wished you could allow yourself such a sweet reprieve, but you knew better now. Once you garnered enough strength to walk, you would have to be taken back to the heavens once all this was over. If not by the God before you, then by the God you have surely angered and left in a cold bed. You felt Hitoshi move your body to sit upright, his hands resting upon your heated cheeks as he attempted to dry them from your ever-falling tears.

“Why are you upset, my darling one?” He asked, searching your eyes for a response, only to find you closing them and looking away.

“If I do stay, if I do as you ask of me and regain my strength and rest, it will not matter.” You blubbered, shaking your head to rid yourself of his grasp on your face.

“And why do you say that?”

“After I do, I will have to return back to Hanta. And I do not want to suffer the false hope that will befall me if I stay, for once I go back I will suffer as I had before. Sleepless and filled with horrid visions!”

Hitoshi did his best to hide the smile that was yearning to break free. He found he was grateful this one time that your glossy eyes would not look at him. Here you were, like a child, in his lap as you wept over the fear of another bad dream that may fall upon you again. It was clear your state of mind had been broken, that your resolve had been shattered, and now you were at the mercy of him and his plan; thus now he could finally strike.

“Who has declared that you must go back?” He whispered as he kissed the crown of your head to soothe you further. “You could just stay here with me, you will never have to worry about sleep and nightmares again. And your sister, I’m sure she missed you.”

With the mention of your sister, you finally looked up at him, your sobbing quieted down as you hiccuped your response. “Y-you w-would let me stay...?”

“I would.” He nodded his affirmation alongside his words, ensuring you would believe him. “And you may visit your sister as often as your heart desires, to wander the Underworld and beholden to their treasures whenever you please. You would just have to keep me company whenever I request it.”

“And Hanta? W-what of him?”

“You would never have to worry about being taken away from him if you did not want. Wherever silver mist gathers, especially within the archways of this domain, he cannot enter nor breakthrough. He may charge his way here, but he will never be allowed to enter my throne.”

You took a moment to gaze upon the familiar archway you had walked through countless times, watching as the silver smoke twirled languishingly amongst itself as if it had a mind of its own. It brought back the memory of when you first came here, how Hanta pushed you to make the journey to the God of Sleep alone. It was not done to test your bravery, but rather for the reason Hitoshi claimed; he was not welcomed here and therefore could not follow you.

It all made sense why Hanata hated that you would visit Hitoshi, for he could not keep an eye on you. He could not control you and whatever you did while here.

Now you were presented with an offer. A tempting one that promised you everything you had been deprived of while you were up in the heavens; to be taken care of fully. To be able to enjoy the spoils found here, to sleep, and to see your sister. Your exhausted mind could not help but agree that his terms and conditions to be his companion within the Underworld was a far better offer than what you were granted within the Heavens.

“I’ll stay…” You murmured out, as you allowed your body to fall limp into his arms in acceptance. “...I’ll stay.”

“Good, now rest little one, you are safe now.”

Hitoshi was unable to cease holding back the triumphant smile that wished to come forth, relenting to it as it spread across his beautiful face in an almost sinister manner before he pressed a kiss to your forehead. He had won, and now he was hoping to reap the rewards he waited so patiently for; grinning more widely as he heard a whine slip passed your lips, the sound going straight to his cock as he shifted you within his lap.

“What is the matter now?” He muttered into your brow, pressing another kiss there as he watched you squirm.

“I can’t sleep...!” You murmured out, clearly exasperated over your mind telling you of desires that you wanted while your body continued to betray you.

“Never fear of things such as that my darling.” His kiss slowly descended down your face before they paused at your lips; brushing against them in a manner much like a butterfly’s kiss. “I can help you, you need only ask me to do so.”

“Please help me Hitoshi…” You breathed out as you clung to his tunic once more.

He knew you were ready to plead further to him, he could hear the hitch in your voice as you made an attempt to do so. But he could not wait any longer, not after all the work he placed into his efforts, nor after hearing you consent to him; even if he desired to hear you beg for him further. His lips pressed against you in a kiss he has waited far too long to enjoy.

But greed swiftly appeared and possessed him, taking his kisses from sweet and small - tiny pecks to showcase his love and adoration for you - to ones more consuming as he melded your lips into his; not caring about breathing more so the want to feel your lips against his. His hand came to hold your jaw in place, craning your neck upward so that he may deepen the kiss to his desire.

It was not harsh, nor hurried, as one would expect from being consumed by the throws of passion and lust; especially the kind that had been suppressed for so long. Hitoshi could not recall in most recent memory, or memory long passed, ever having a lover by his side. And now that he had you, now that he finally had you here, he wished to engulf you completely and enjoy what the Gods above have denied him.

His motions were languid as he continued to hold your lips against his, he relished in how pillowy they felt as he continued to suck and smack upon them; not bothering to care of your whimpers of discomfort over how lewd the sounds had become, or how the mixture of saliva would drip down your chin. He still refused to relent as he found himself possessed over you and this feeling of domination. He slipped forth his tongue into your pliant and sweet mouth; how he delighted in the way your strength left you and caused you to go limp within his hold.

With the knowledge that you would not fight against him further, rather allowing yourself to succumb to him and his desires instead, his hands began to roam your body; no longer afraid of angering you and your possible attempts to fight otherwise.

You couldn't say that you did not enjoy it.

The unhurried, leisurely manner in which Hitoshi was making love to you was a far cry from the throws of quickened and almost brutal passion that you had grown used to. Such a contrast made your head dizzy and lightheaded as you allowed the God before you to do as he pleased; yet uncertainty filled the distant corners of your mind, how the ebbed and flowed almost as a warning bell, as you wondered if your body was going pliant to his advances due to your own building want or if he somehow placed you in a dream-like trance.

Regardless, you still found yourself in bliss as your hands began to roam themselves; how they gripped and tugged at his tunic as you allowed your voice to be heard. The small noise of pleasure did nothing more than spur Hitoshi on as his lips began to drag from your own and down to your jaw. You felt a shiver run down your spine as you heard his groan of delight when your hands found purchase underneath his tunic. The contrast of your warm hands against his cool and bare chest was a wondrous thing, one that made the both of you flush deeper in heat.

Though, after a while, it was not enough. Your mind still pounded against your skull, a brutal reminder that you needed slumber, and despite Hitoshi’s claims that he could bring that forth to you, he had so far made ill on that promise.

“Hitoshi…” You whimpered out, voice strained as you found it difficult to even speak in your current state.

“Yes, my darling?” Hitoshi mumbled into the skin just below your jaw as he placed a kiss there to try and encourage you to speak more.

It did not work, all he was met with was your continuous stream of discomforted whimpers; the way your brows pinched and furrowed in displeasure was a clear sign to him that he must move faster if he wished to come true with his promise and grant you the sleep you requested.

He tugged at your dress, being mindful of how precious the silk must be for you and thus not wanting to ruin it. Using a tender hand to glide the fabric of your sleeves down your arms to your wrists to allow the material of your bodice to slip under your ribs; effectively it released your breasts and allowed him to gaze in hunger at your chest; his cock stirring as he watched your nipples harden when greeted with the cold air of his home.

He wasted no time, like a man possessed, to trail his lips over your newly exposed, supple flesh. The softness he found caused his cock to twitch harshly as he took the time to kiss up and down the valley between your breasts, as he inhaled the scent of your skin; committing it to memory should he never have the chance to have you like this once more. His dexterous hands began to roll and squeeze at your mounds, biting his lip as he watched the flesh shake in a tantalizing manner before he slipped one of your hardened nipples into his awaiting mouth; his tongue circling around it as he sucked gently upon it.

Hitoshi wanted nothing more than to garner more noises of pleasure from you as he absently rocked his hips against yours, and groaned into your skin. His other hand undertook the task to play with your skirts, to work in a quickened manner while you were too preoccupied from his mouth to question him as he dragged them up and over your hips so he may have access to your most sacred place; your sweet cunt.

His teeth, though blunt, left a stinging pain in their wake as he marred and nipped at your supple flesh. It caused your eyes to shoot open as you looked down upon him, his lavender eyes were filled with a lustful haze as they connected with yours; it made your body shudder in his hold as you whined at his cruel action. You could feel him smile upon your skin as he laved over your newly found mark with his tongue.

“Stay awake for just a little longer, my darling,” he cooed, nipping at your skin once more to hear you call out his name in that adorable whine he was starting to love. “That’s it, look at me, keep your eyes open and on me, alright?”

“I-it hurts…!” You jerked your body away from his pinching teeth, your mewl of displeasure following suit.

“Keep looking at me, and do not fall into the grips of dozing.” Hitoshi muttered, pressing a few kisses over the red marks he had given you. “And I promise you that it shall not hurt anymore.”

His deft fingers found your cunt, spreading your folds open so he may be able to gently pet and coax out further pleasure from your body; to showcase to you that he meant as he said. His middle finger explored, dipping briefly into your leaking entrance, before slowly stroking your little bundle of nerves; groaning at how violently your hips bucked over his slow and deliberate act, how they seemed to follow his hand, greedy for more of his sinful touch.

Despite his desires otherwise, how he wished to rub harshly upon your puffy clit to hear you wail and cry out for him as you became overwhelmed with ecstasy, he knew you were not restive enough for such a thing. As well, he wanted nothing more than to see your pretty eyes, half-lidded with lust for him, to stay focused upon him.

He continued his tortuous petting, whispering his fingertips upon your clit but never pressed down before they swiftly moved to poke at your fluttering hole; all the while he smirked into your chest as heard your panting breath. A guttural groan left his parted lips as he finally relented and sunk a finger into you; relishing in your keen of pleasure as your hand came to tug upon his wild mane of violet locks.

You pulled him closer once he breached your weeping cunt, mewling quietly in delight at his skillful and gently petting; though you found that it wasn’t enough. The burning ache of need deep within your core was calling out for release, it heightened the pining to find slumber, as your hips moved against his hand in urgency for him to grant you something more. Your fingernails dug into the skin of his chest and dragged them down toward his hips; it left an angry trail of red in their wake, as your other hand tugged harshly on his mane once more. Calling out his name in a prolonged whine of frustration, not caring over this hiss of pain that sucked through his teeth.

“Getting impatient, are we?” Hitoshi growled, nipping at your neck to feel your yelp beneath his tongue.

“Y-you promised!” You wailed, hands moved to grip his shoulders as you felt his fingers spread within you.

“To not hurt you, indeed I did.” Hitoshi teased, leaning his head back to enjoy the blissful looks upon your face. “Do you not feel good, darling?”

“N-no!” You shook your head before you cried out his name, unable to finish your thought before being lost to the pleasure he brought forth.

“No?” He teased, slowing his fingers until they barely moved within you, chuckling at your bucking hips as you attempted to gain back the stimulation you craved. “Well, my darling, your body is telling me something different.”

If you were more awake, you would feel the heat of embarrassment taking over the flush of desire upon your skin, though at the moment you could not seem to care about decency; your desire to follow through and ultimately find and form of reprieve to your aching body.

“No, you promised to guide me to sleep.” You stuttered out, finally being able to find your voice now that his actions upon your body subsided. “And you’re prolonging that now.”

Hitoshi hummed, stifling another laugh over your petulant state, as his lips kissed upwards your neck and jaw before meeting their intended destination; kissing you languidly like before to placate your rigid state.

“Apologies,” he murmured, breath mingled with yours as he allowed you a chance to catch it. “I was merely just preparing you appropriately so you take my cock with ease. Though you are right; you have waited long enough.”

You squirmed at his words, finding a sense of awkwardness in how crude yet honest, not something you were yet used to from him, as you gripped tightly to the fabric at his shoulders when you felt his fingers leave your cunt; kissing your teeth in a quiet hiss as you feel yourself tighten around nothing.

“Go on now,” Hitoshi whispered, leaning so his back may sit flush against his silver throne, a smirk tugging at his lips. “If you so wish for relief so badly then you may take my cock out to have it.”

He admired the way you so timidly nodded your head at his request before your hands, one filled with trepidation, shook as they lowered to where they needed to be. He felt how gingerly you worked as you adjusted and shifted his robes to unbound his hardened member; he groaned in relief once he felt you delicately free his leaking cock.

If you were not so in need of him at the moment, he would ask you to stroke him; to pump your hand up and down his length until he guided you toward his own euphoria. He supposed he now had more than enough time for such salaciousness at a later date. Instead, he grabbed your waist as he pulled you to sit higher, hovering you over him as he properly aligned himself against your heated core.

Slowly, agonizingly so, he guided your hips downward to impale yourself on him; pressing his lips to yours to shush the aching whimpers that tumbled forth as you felt yourself being stretched to your limit by him; and though you had experience with Hanta, his cock was far thicker than you were ever used to. Hitoshi muttered your praises, telling you of how well you were doing as he slowly filled you full of him.

“You’re doing so well.” He groaned out, teeth gritted as his jaw clamped tightly shut as he did his best not to spill his load into you before he barely had begun to have his fun. “You’re so close, almost there my darling.”

He could tell why Hanta was so fond of you, so unwilling to let you venture off on your own and out of his sight. Your cunt was truly heavenly as it swallowed his cock greedily, already spasming and milking him for what he was worth. He let out a strangled breath, a mixture of a moan and a sigh, once you were fully seated; taking note of your discomfort once more, he rocked your hips back and forth in a lazy, slow, manner until your brows became unpinched and your huffs turned to sighs of pleasure.

“That’s it, good girl…” He sighed out once you took control and swayed your hips on your own, hands glided to your waist to help lift your hips to bounce upward upon him; showcasing to you the gentle rhythm he wanted you to ride him.

“L-like this?” You asked, as you placed your hands in a more steady position upon his chest as you rolled your hips to glide him in and out of your heat; moaning alongside him when you hit a particularly tender spot within you.

“Fuck yes.” He groaned as he threw his head back for but a moment to relish fully in the euphoric feeling of your tight, dripping, hole.

His hands began to wander again as the slow and unhurried lovemaking progressed. Fingertips took hold and dug into your supple flesh anywhere he could, from the plush of your beautiful thighs, to pinching at your waist, to massaging and groping your breasts. Hitoshi had to distract himself from his more primal urges, to find a use for his body to ensure that his hips didn’t snap up into you. For he was aware of what your exhausted body needed, and that was not being rough.

You cried out sharply when you felt his hand make swift contact with your backside, your supple cheek radiating heat from the pain, as your eyes snapped back onto him; tears formed in your lashes as you blubbered out “what did I do wrong?”

Hitoshi did feel a little guilty, your sad eyes were not something he wished to see, but it was a far better cry than how they drooped just moments prior. His fingers brushed over the sore flesh, as he pressed more soft kisses to your jaw as a way of an apology; taking hold of it, in his other hand, after the peppering of affection

“Look at me, my flower.” He whispered, brows furrowing as he felt you tighten around him. “I need you to look at me, alright?”

You nodded in affirmation to his request with a sniffle, tears still formed upon your lash as you continued to rock your hips against his own; the pleasure overwhelmed you as repeatedly hit the small spongy button within you that made you feel dizzy. Matched that with the fabric of his tunic that caught your clit every time you moved made stars dance across your eyes. It caused you to ascend to your release far quicker than you ever thought possible, as your mewls and babbles of “more” filled the air.

He could tell you were close, given how your walls clamped sporadically around him while you gushed and leaked down onto his thighs. His quiet moans of pleasure melded with your own as he hugged your body tightly against his, as his hips bucked into your own; taking control over you in that primal manner he wished to suppress but could not any longer.

His grip tightened the harsher his hips snapped into you, his heavy cock bullying its way into you to perpetually hit that special spot that made you breathless and squirm within his hold. He was so close to letting go, but he could not do so before you, for he wished for nothing more than to feel your sweet cunt around him as you came.

Your eyes shut tightly as your body seized and gave into the surmounting pleasure and pressure in your core. You wailed out, as those waves crashed into you over and over; your eyes rolled back into your skull as white danced across your vision before you felt yourself go limp against him.

Hitoshi felt your breath against his nape as he held your shaking body against him as he continued to chase his own high. He could tell you were doing your best to stay awake, but how could you? After all, you had climbed a mountain of pleasure before jumping down from it, not even the most powerful of Gods could sway from exhaustion from something such as that.

Yet, despite being stuck between the realm of awake and napping, he could still feel your warm walls clenching in response to his bucking hips. With the knowledge that despite you not being awake you were still reacting to him, your body still obeyed him in some fashion, causing his teeth to clench as he hissed out a final breath before he spilled inside you; filling your pussy completely with his cum.

Hitoshi took a moment to hold your body flush against him as clambered down from his high; placing kisses upon your brow and temple in a prolonged manner to showcase to you his appreciation. He shifted your body to lay more comfortably against his chest once the mood suited him, staying buried deep inside you to ensure that when you woke you would still be filled with his cum, as his hands ran up and down your tired body in a soothing and loving manner.

“There’s a good little flower,” Hitoshi muttered into your hair, pressing a final kiss to your crown, as he pulled you higher in his hold as he admired your sleeping form. “I’ll take much better care of you than he ever will.”

stay tuned for more~

#stay tuned for as there is one more part to this story~#shinso x reader #hitoshi shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #hitoshi shinso x reader #shinso hitoshi #shinsou x reader smut #shinso smut #mha x reader #mha fanfic #my hero academia #bnha x reader #bnha fanfic #boku no hero academia #hitoshi shinsou x reader smut #shinsou x reader #🔮.the peddler brews #🔮.potion for shinso

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hydrangea-mon-amor · 10 months ago

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「 ✦ Yandere Angel ✦ 」

Yandere Male! x fem! reader!

Trigger warning! Yandere behavior, obsessive behavior

A/N guys, I feel like I’m on drugs right now, I’ve worked on this for who knows how many hours just so I could drop it in time of New Years. It’s a long one, and I think you guys will love this one.

Summary! He is your Guardian Angel, sworn to protect you against any and all evil. You are a simple mortal girl, who ensnared the wrong angel in your circle… (no seriously girl how the hell did you do that….)

Side note — if you think there should be more trigger warnings added, let me know.

Every Angel is assigned to a human, but not every angel harbors the ability to form a genuine relationship with them. It isn’t in their clause, and, in any case, the act in itself is generally treated as something to avoid.

After all, angels are immortal, ephemeral creatures, beings of light itself. They cannot die like ordinary humans do, and they do not have the lifespan of one either…

No, they live long, immortality is something they are branded with. How could, if one could ask, would an angel live if they grew to love their charge, but had to acquiesce and give them up in the name of death?

Is it possible for life to be so unfair?

Is it possible for life to be so irrevocably cruel?

Peliel, was the name of your guardian Angel. He has been looking over you, you know? Each moment—every encounter that has mysteriously worked in your favor, it was all because of him. Truly he had your best interest in mind.

Do you remember, when it was your seventeenth birthday, your friends and you hopped in that Uber, only to be led astray but then back again? Remember how relieved you were when you had realized that you weren’t being kidnapped?

You should thank Peliel.

No, really, it’s insisted that you thank your protective guardian Angel…

On a drowsy Sunday morning, with leaves swaying to the persuasive winds, Peliel is slumped under a tree. He watches over you, you are outside a cafe, studying for a future exam. Peliel looks around for danger, he always has, he has never complained, he never will complain.

A dumb smile finds its way on his face.

‘You look so adorable…’ he thinks—he has always thought that.

His eyes perk up, where are you going?

Peliel, removes himself from the trees shade, and starts stalking towards you. No mortal can see him, he is, infact, hidden in plain sight. He watches you cross roads, than follow the same path. He follows, quite diligently too, until he comes to a stop.

The Public Library.

He smiles dumbly to himself. Of course someone as adorable and motivated as you would go to the library to study…

He moves through the door, tucking himself away into a corner so where he could watch you promptly. He has never loved being a guardian so much, he wishes death wasn’t a thing so he could forever be your Guardian Angel…

You sit in between two chairs on a desk, clasping a medical textbook in your hands. You lay it on top the surface, diligently tracing your fingers along the words, taking notes as you do. Hair cascading down your delectable visage, and Peliel watches it all, he will watch it all.

Sometimes, when you sleep in your bed, Peliel will sit at the edge of the mattress and just…stare. It isn’t weird, really it’s just him protecting what is his. He is in charge of your protection, what kind of Guardian Angel would he be if he didn’t take it upon himself catering to your protection in every circumstance?

Who would he be? No really, he might as-well be committing an act of transgression upon the Heavens.

No…the wording is wrong, in actuality, he’d be committing transgressions against you.

He sits in his corner, looking upon you like how mortals look upon their worldly desires. But, to him, you are more than just “desires.” You are his reason for living.

“Fuck.” He’s startled, it isn’t often he hears you curse…

You look upon your textbook, frustrated with the topic you’re currently studying. You look up, desperate for some notion of reprieve.

Your eyes squint.

“Can I help you? Why are you in the corner like that?”

Peliel is confused, you shouldn’t be able to see him. It isn’t natural, it isn’t possible. He is invisible to the mortal eye, he cannot be seen by ordinary folk, how can you…

“Are you referring to me?”

You should really be more gentle with him, he speaks so timidly, frightened he’s going to disappoint you…

You look over your shoulder, “I don’t see anyone huddled up in a corner like you are, so yes, as if it wasn’t obvious already, but I am looking at you. And seriously? Who would I have to look at besides you?”

Who would I have to look at besides you…

He seriously shouldn’t be getting butterflies from this, poor thing, all riled up for nothing.

“I-I’m not sure.” He attempts to smile, his face definitely dusted in red, he’s squeamish now, unbecoming. You really shouldn’t have acknowledged him.

“Don’t sit there, you’ll damage your spine.”

“How do you know?”

You hold up the textbook, “studying to become a doctor.”

He looks at you surprised.

“Really?”

As if he didn’t already know that…

“Mhmm, exam next Thursday, wish me luck won’t you?” You were being sarcastic, but he was not.

“O-of course!”

Your phone rings. “Have to go now, bye, don’t make me catch you in a position like that again. Well, that is if we ever meet again.”

He watches in awe, you leave the library, hesitant smile his way.

He feels like he’s on cloud nine, or ten, or eleven. He feels weightless, light, fluttering, untouchable.

Of course, the reason why you could see him was because of fate… you are destined for him, as he is destined for you… that’s why you could see him, that’s why he could converse with you…. Fate, you are fated to him…

He’s watching you.

Well, he always has, but something about this encounter is different… he doesn’t know, it feels more intimate, more romantic.

He sits upon a tree branch, an apple in his hands. He’s been meaning to take a bite, but he is so enamored with you that he simply just forgot… but, of course, could you blame him? You are simply so you, and he is irrevocably engrossed with you.

You are star-gazing, by yourself. Wearing a divine skirt, a tank top, and a simple, cute cardigan. You have a basket of mangoes by you, waiting a few moments to eat the next piece.

He can’t stop thinking about you, he can’t stop himself from being near you. Even if you don’t know he’s here, it still doesn’t change the fact that he’s there…

He will always be there.

Always, for you.

In the wake of the glowing moon, the dance of the twinkling constellations, Peliels whispers, sounds odd but no. He whispers to you, don’t you understand? Fate has communicated that you two are meant for eachother, bless Peliel, all he is doing is seeing it to fruition.

These whispers, these statements of fervor, are carried by the ever persistent winds.

They are carried to you.

Heaven cannot compare to the bliss you have given.

Your face is as delicate as dew drops, and your voice as placid as the clearest of waters…you are an illustration of exalted life.

He almost giggles to himself when he sees you startled, playing it off as something amiss with your hearing.

It was probably the smartest thing you’ve done thus far.

He shouldn’t intervene this much, really, it isn’t ethical. And, his higher ups would probably not be too fond of his recent behavior either. But can he help it? Really, can he?

Honestly he thinks it’s your fault.

If you weren’t so infatuating, so alluring, he wouldn’t have to do this.

If he didn’t love you like he did, he probably would’ve stepped back, but he does love you, he loves you so much that he cannot bear the sight of you being inconvenienced. No matter how minor.

So why is that you aren’t grateful? Why do you look on in terror as if he had done something so outrageous? So heinous?

“Please, someone, dial 911!” You shout, shaking as you watch the bleeding corpse of your boss.

How did he even get that way?

A part of you is at odds with one another. He was a shit boss, always targetting people who couldn’t fight back, he was rude, mean, crude, narcissistic, evil—

“I—he’s losing a lot of blood please!” You shout, cursing yourself for not having your phone on you.

Peliel watches on, not liking the feeling swirling in his stomach.

Why aren’t you showing any signs of gratitude? You hated him, Peliel knows how much you hated him. So why, why do you want people do help the coward! He’s helping you! He’s doing you a favor, how could you be so insolent and—

Wait.

You are so lucky to have a very smart Guardian Angel, did you know that?

Peliel, transforms into a mortal body, akin to how you saw him in the library, just less…divine. He transforms into the uniform of your workplace, a co-worker. He pushes pass the doors, until he reaches you the body.

“I know how to bandage deep wounds.” He said, not realizing the logistics of the situation he has put himself in.

He didn’t take note to factor in the fact that you have never seen him working with you before, or the fact that it has been a complete month since your last interaction, or the fact that this just seems so convenient…

He supposes he is lucky enough to have a human so traumatized to not question it.

“Please h-help, I don’t know how he ended up like this.” You said, voice trembling.

Cute.

Peliel thinks how he could be the cause of that trembling voice.

“Do you have a first aid kid?” He said, you nodded, still shaking. When you leave his sight to fetch the kit, Peliel looks upon the corpse like it has personally offended him.

He didn’t plan for this to happen, it wasn’t what he originally wanted. But he supposes it isn’t a complete loss, since, he does have you.

With a snap of his finger, the corpse he so assiduously butchered was bandaged up in an instant. The bleeding, to a minimum.

When you came back, you were stunned.

“How did you…I thought you—“

“I realized I had a first aid kid with me. Sorry if I bothered you.”

“No—not at all! I just…thank you for helping. I am so grateful—god—I don’t understand how this could even happen.”

Grateful.

So now you are grateful.

Peliel thinks he may have to switch tactics, but nevertheless, he is happy. He is happy he made you happy.

“Of course, it’s nothing—“

Peliel is cut off from ambulance sirens.

What a hinderance.

Alas, at the end of the day, when you have high given your police statements, you both stand outside the police station.

“Really again, I’m so grateful you showed up, if you hadn’t I don’t think he would’ve been able to—“

Peliel realizes that he may have overstepped here, but he doesn’t care. He pulls you close, hugging you. He is close enough to smell your scent.

“Really it’s nothing. You have just scene a traumatizing scene, you shouldn’t think about scenarios that haven’t passed.”

Peliel is honestly, such a lucky angel to have a mortal so blissfully naive.

You don’t think him creepy for hugging you, infact, you think the gesture was nice, comforting.

“Y/N.”

“I’m sorry?”

“My name, it’s Y/N.”

He smiles, “my name is”—he thinks for a moment—“Pete, my name is Pete.”

You look up at him, your visage twisting to remembrance.

“I know you, you were at the library.” It’s now that you two are a reasonable distance from one another. “You were crouched in that little corner—“

“And you told me you were studying to be a doctor.” He said. “That makes me wonder, shouldn’t you have been able to help him?”

You frown, your face taking a shade of shame.

“I…didn’t pass, turns out I wasn’t even familiar with half the things I doctor should be able to do.”

He rests his hand on your shoulder. “It’s okay, you’ll find your calling.”

For now, Peliel can be the doctor, your doctor.

“I uh, I didn’t know you worked here.”

Peliel purses his lips. “I didn’t know you worked here too.” Liar. “I think I should quit though, after what happened, I don’t think It’d be safe If you—I mean—I continued to work there.”

You smile dimly, “yeah, I guess that makes sense.” You take out a piece of parchment, a pen next, you scribble numbers onto the page. Peliel has no idea what you are trying to do.

It’s cute really, how bashful your getting, presenting the paper to him. “It’s my number. Call me if you need anything.”

He smiles, taking the paper in hand, “alright.”

He sees you more often now.

How lucky he is.

He gets to speak to you more as well. By the heavenly principles, he shouldn’t have such easy access to you, it isn’t in his job description, really, he should only converse with you durning pivotal moments in your life, but bless his heart, he just can’t help it!

He loves you, don’t you know that? He loves you so much it pains his heart.

You’re at a coffee shop, gaze fixed on a laptop screen and fingers tapping gently on the keyboards. For a few moments, he stands outside the window, just watching you.

He loves watching you.

A shaky breath leaves his lips, he wonders how he can merge his life into yours, how he can have you all to himself.

He wants you so bad, did you know that?

No, he needs you.

He mouths the words I love you a million times, then a million times more.

He wants to say it in person.

He watches you.

You tap the keyboards gently.

He watches you.

Your eyes are fixed in the screen.

They should be fixed on him.

He watches you.

Your lips look so soft.

How soft are they to kiss?

He watches you.

Your eyes dazzle his soul.

How will they look when he has you under his d—

He watches you.

He’s always watching you.

How lucky.

He’s infiltrated your day to day life.

One might think this is what Guardian Angels do, they walk through your life as you live it, but Peliel is not the same. He shouldn’t be with you like this.

It’s as If he’s casted a spell on you.

The flowers are more dazzling, the sky is more eccentric, you smell things more in depth now, you feel things more intimately, emotions are more raw, your vision more clear and it is all thanks to you know who.

Well, in actuality you don’t, but that doesn’t matter.

He likes seeing you happy, and yo are happy.

Right?

Well, Peliel thinks you are.

You smile more.

Laugh more.

You are just so…you!

He loves It.

He’s giggling now, thinking about what he is going to do.

What he will do just so he can talk to you.

The winds take a sharp turn, you walk alongside the sidewalk, earphones locked in place, listening to a song on your playlist. When a sharp breeze sets you off your course. Your body slams down on the other direction, hitting a wall of some sort.

No, not a wall, something soft.

Something soft and breathing and moving.

“I think you have some sort of penchant running into me.” He said, recognizing you so much more faster than you can even think to remember him.

His voice is soft, and his hand is around you protectively, so that you don’t injure yourself further.

As if he wasn’t the cause for this.

Sometimes, he thinks why you don’t react the way other mortals do. Usually, they’d scream and curse at someone they see so often and nit know personally, perhaps it is paranoia.

But you are so accepting, so naive—

“It seems I always bump into you when I need saving.” You say shyly.

He blushes.

Saving.

Need.

You need him.

He knew you loved him.

“Are you hurt? That seemed like a really hard fall you had there.”

He is so happy you had that fall. Because if not, he wouldn’t be in this situation. You in his arms.

“I’m fine, are you fine? You tumbled down with me, I’m sorry, I’m probably causing you a lot of pain.” You move to stand up, Peliel has to physically fight himself so he doesn’t pull you down. So he doesn’t come on too strong.

“Do you want to get coffee with me?” He said, blurting it out before he can form cohesive thoughts.

He doesn’t regret it though, not when you gave him such an enticing response.

“Sure, maybe we can get to know each other a bit more.”

He already knows every inch of your being.

But sure, he’ll humor you for the time being.

You get gifts now.

He delivers them to you.

How considerate.

You open the door to your front porch, a crystal, white box addressed to you. Delivered in pristine condition. On it there is an attached note.

For the loveliest rose the heavens could gaze on.

He doesn’t sign it off with his name however. But you are so curious you just simply had to know, you needed to know.

How stupid you were.

A heinous, disgusting shrill came out of your mouth. The birds changed their course and the crickets and insects that surrounded your house grew silent.

Inside the box were a pair of two eyes, another note placed inside.

For the men who dared to look at the loviest rose.

You wanted to puke, you wanted to hurl yourself into a corner and just sob.

Peliel watches.

And truth be told, he does not like the reacting you had given him.

He worked so hard to get this right, to give you a present worthy of your magnificence. And this is how you respond? By screaming as if it is something to abhor? Do you have no gratitude?

But that is okay, he has other gifts in mind.

The next week, you get another package. And this time you had no Will to open it. You didn’t want to open it. You were only outside to read the nite attached to the box.

Lovely rose, I hope you like this present better than the…one before.

You don’t open it. You can’t open it. You won’t open it.

But curiosity knows at you like cornered claws, you can’t continue your day without thinking about it.

It’s always in the back of your mind.

Lovey rose.

Lovely rose.

Lovey rose.

It chips away at you until it is finally night and you cannot go another second without knowing so like a ravaged animal you grasp the box like a depraved creature and claw at it. Until it rips open to reveal…an amethyst ring.

What?

But this makes no sense…

On the ring is another attached note.

The loveliest mineral for the loveliest rose.

Oh you’re fucked now.

Peliel curses himself.

He’s let you stray far away from him.

Your at the same coffee shop, same table, same laptop, but it isn’t the same. Because if it was the same he would be watching you like he always does, he’d be watching you while you tap your delicate fingers gently on the keyboards.

But it is not the same.

Do you want to know why?

Because a incompetent, insolent mortal boy is besides you.

His finger is on you lap, he smiles at you, his gaze fixed on you.

Who does he think he is? Doesn’t he know that position is only reserved for him? Wasn’t this the place you and him visited just last week? Wasn’t this the place you two bought coffees together and had a pleasant conversation? Wasn’t this the place you smiled at him like you knew him even before your birth? Wasn’t this the place that cemented the fact that you belonged to him?

That he belonged to you?

He watches in rage, he watches seething, fingers curling into a fist, all he wants to do is wipe that mortal boy off the face of this planet.

He doesn’t deserve you like Peliel does.

He didn’t earn you like Peliel did.

What is this?

Have you forsaken him? Was every encounter you had with him nothing? You said you needed him, you said that exact word remember?

So why is he watching this.

Why is he watching this and feeling so—so jealous!

But Peliel, your very smart Guardian Angel, always has a plan. He watches you, rage mixed with absolute devotion and adoration and devises a plan.

He smiles just thinking about.

This way, he can have you all to himself, without…hinderances.

Yes, you might be a little angry with him for the first couple of weeks. You may actually be a little scared. Confused, distraught, anxious.

But it’ll all be worth it.

Besides, he’s sure you’ll come around to living with him in the mountains, isolated from the rest if the world, just you and him, forever.

Hell just have to kidnap you there first.

—

A/N: thank you for being so patient while I worked on this. I made it extra long so you guys could savor it a bit more, and also because I believe it needed to be this long so you could understand fully Peliel infatuation with Y/N. I have ideas on how I can expand this story, but don’t get your hopes up because I’m not sure if it’ll come into fruition. I love you all so much and thank you for reading.

Happy new year!

#yandere #yandere scenarios #yandere blurbs #yandere male #yandere original character #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere angel #yandere x y/n #you x yandere #yandere oc x you

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 6 months ago

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au where vaggie has another little secret she didn't even know was a secret still (spoiler it's Mortality) (spoiler charlie Isn't Happy) and when she sits down with charlie for a hotel talk it goees like (TRAUMATIC EMOTIONAL SPEED RUN AAAAHAHAHA)

Vaggie: "Alright sweetie, the hotel's going good so far, one soul redeemed, minimal fire damage this week, so we should probably start planning for the next hundred years of operations."

Charlie: "YAY!!! Planning planning planning~ What's first on the list??"

Vaggie: "Start looking for a replacement manager."

Charlie: "You don't wanna keep being manager? OH- we can be CO-FOUNDERS together! WE COULD HAVE A PARTY FOR IT! And plan for the next one too- Charlie and Vaggie's centennial wow the hotel is still here celebration...!"

Vaggie: "That's sweet, but I'll be dead by then either way, so we still need to deal with the staffing shortage before then."

Charlie: "....dead... tired?"

Vaggie: "Dead as in dead. Doornail style."

Charlie: "What?"

Vaggie: "Expired. Shit, when did we last check the hotel fridge..."

Charlie: "Vaggie wait, I'm, I'm not hearing you right, what are you saying?"

Vaggie: "Heaven born don't live forever? Especially not down in hell, turns out."

Charlie: "I don't understand."

Vaggie: (chuckles) "Sweetie, thanks for ignoring my eyebags and zombie groans while getting out of bed in the morning- but my wings are already GREY, for fuck's sake."

Charlie: "Yes they're, grey. Beautiful and- aren't they supposed to be-?"

Vaggie: "And I'm pretty sure it's not just from the stress of running a business for a few months. Being hotel manager isn't that hard."

Vaggie: "....Mostly. Compared to, some things...." (sigh)

Vaggie: "Think anyone would believe that if we put it in the want ad?"

Charlie: "But-"

Vaggie: "No buts. We really need to get a head start on this."

Charlie: "....but you're a winner."

Vaggie: (SNORTS) "In my dating life, yeah. Anyway-"

Charlie: "But none of the other exorcists' wings are grey! So, so THEY aren't aging- so YOU aren't aging!!"

Vaggie: "They've got halos to protect them from the whole physically getting old thing-"

Charlie: "Halos???"

Vaggie: "-so we- they- can keep fit and ready for fighting our- THEIR whole lives, but duh we don't live forever. Lute and Adam left me here to die, not chill for all eternity."

Charlie: "Wh.. but-"

Vaggie: "Can you imagine how much heaven would've freaked if one of their actually immortal souls had gotten killed down here in hell...? But it was just one of us Adam's girls, and it was up to him to deal with it. With more murder. Bastard."

Charlie: "...."

Vaggie: "Uh.... Charlie?"

Charlie: "....your mortal?"

Vaggie: "I'm, yeah.... wait, Charlie..."

Vaggie: "...people know that about exorcists, right? You didn't... think heaven would risk putting winners in their rank and file army and send them down to hell?"

Charlie: "I thought you were a sinner."

Vaggie: "Hostia- right. I keep forgetting, they don't get old do they?"

Charlie: "Sinners don't. They get killed but they don't just. Die."

Vaggie: "I'm sorry. I thought- I really should've told you-"

Charlie: "Angels aren't supposed to die either."

Vaggie: "We did a good job proving that wrong. Exhibit A, Adam's corpse."

Charlie: "He was KILLED- it's not the same!"

Vaggie: "And angels aren't the same either. There's a lot of different kinds in creation- most of us aren't in the higher orders, there's waaaay more exorcists than seraphim."

Charlie: "But heaven is still supposed to be HEAVEN! People don't DIE in heaven! That wouldn't be Heaven! How could- how could it ever be HAPPY up there if, if- if people still left!?"

Vaggie: "Oh, sweetie... the only people who've earned a heaven like that are the winners. The rest of us are just-"

Charlie: "Just what? JUST, WHAT???"

Vaggie: "We're there to make heaven a good place for them. Keep it running smooth and safe. Mostly it's the higher ups who deal with winners personally, the rest of us stay back and stick to our jobs, try to keep some distance so no one... gets too attached... shit that sounded a lot less fucked up before I said it out loud-"

Vaggie: "Look- it's like that with hellborn too isn't it? The imps and hellhounds and-"

Charlie: "NO! YES? But this is HELL! Of course it hurts and isn't fair! You're not FROM hell it's not supposed to BE like that for you!"

Vaggie: "Or for my girlfriend."

Charlie: "I'm not the one who's dying!"

Vaggie: "You're kinda freaking-"

Charlie: "IM NOT FREAKING OUT!!"

Vaggie: "Right. I meant, you should've had more warning. I'm sorry I didn't say... I wasn't thinking that far ahead."

Charlie: "WELL I WAS! And I'm not- we're not losing that."

Vaggie: "Charlie-"

Charlie: "We're getting you your halo back."

Vaggie: "Pretty sure it's already been recycled-"

Charlie: "THEN WE'RE FINDING ONE FROM ONE OF THE DEAD EXORCISTS and you are WEARING IT until we FIX THIS."

Vaggie: "Sweetie- heaven collected all the halos from our battle-"

Charlie: "They didn't pick up all the spears and stuff, maybe they also missed-"

Vaggie: "No they wouldn't have. Halos aren't, they're not like the weapons. Heaven doesn't care if sinners kill each other with some left behind divine steel, but a halo? They store and conduct heavenly power or whatever. No one's gonna leave one of them lying around."

Charlie: "Fine. FINE- let me think-"

Vaggie: "Can we think less and focus more on you not shaking like a damn leaf first? C'mon, sit down-"

Charlie: "-the angel Carmilla killed. We'll use that one."

Vaggie: "We could use a deep breath right now."

Charlie: "It's head was missing when heaven picked up the body."

Vaggie: "Yeah? An Overlord probably has it hanging on their wall, big whoop, Charlie please slow down-"

Charlie: "If it's head was left behind then maybe it's halo was too! If we find the Overlord-"

Vaggie: "No. No more deals with Overlords."

Charlie: "I'll make as many damn deals with them as I want!"

Vaggie: "But not for ME, alright! If it's about me then you don't get to sell your fucking soul! Or bind it or whatever! You can't make me be the reason for that!"

Charlie: "Vaggie- we NEED that halo."

Vaggie: "No we don't. I don't."

Charlie: "You're dying without it!"

Vaggie: "I KNOW I am. But that's just, life!"

Charlie: "LIFE? Dying so soon isn't-!"

Vaggie: "Charlie, you're half seraphim. You mom was the original demon, your view on life expectancies is kinda skewed."

Charlie: "You said the halos let you live longer!"

Vaggie: "I said they keep us young. It's not the same thing."

Charlie: "It's still SOMETHING!"

Vaggie: "We don't even know that would help at this point, I've been in hell for years-"

Charlie: "Oh so we shouldn't even try!? Just, sit back and go 'well we haven't don't anything to stop this but I guess it was just completely unavoidable'-"

Vaggie: "It probably WON'T help. No, listen- It worked up in heaven and for short runs down here- that doesn't mean it'd have any power to draw on in hell. It's probably just a fancy looking hoop down here."

Charlie: "Then we'll get you back to heaven until we can make it work."

Vaggie: "I'm not going back to fucking heaven!"

Charlie: "AND I'M NOT LETTING YOU STAY HERE AND DIE!"

Vaggie: "You can't kick me out- this is OUR hotel, not just yours."

Charlie: "YOU- you-"

Vaggie: "We need. To calm down."

Charlie: "CALM DOWN! Every second you spend down here your body is-"

Vaggie: "Not dying anytime soon, okay? I'm fine. This whole talk has gone way too far way, way to fast. That's my fault for not thinking about all this sooner, but. Just. Take a breath. Let's just take a breath, take a break, and come back to this when we're both had a moment."

Charlie: "....."

Charlie: "Did you plan all this."

Vaggie: "What?"

Charlie: "Owning the hotel together. Making sure you couldn't be forced out of hell."

Vaggie: "That's not why we started the hotel-"

Charlie: "No, that's not what I was thinking when we started it. But were you?"

Vaggie: "Charlie... you're connecting dots that aren't there..."

Charlie: "You're here. You're here and dying and don't want to leave."

Vaggie: "I'd be dying up in heaven too."

Charlie: "But your wings wouldn't already be GREY, would they?"

Vaggie: "They'd still be an exorcist's wings, if I'd never left-"

Charlie: "Well they're not anymore and going back wouldn't change that. All it would do is help you stay alive."

Vaggie: "I don't want that life."

Charlie: "It's that or die."

Vaggie: "You're being dramatic-"

Charlie: "You've always said you liked that about me. Was that a lie too?"

Vaggie: "No."

Charlie: "Do you want to die, Vaggie?"

Vaggie: "Of course I don't- I could've just let Lute-"

Charlie: "Die, not be killed. Does it make you feel better about all the people you've killed? You'll die and join them, sooner rather than later?"

Vaggie: "......."

Vaggie: "... I want. To spend my life. With you."

Charlie: "No you don't." (voice cracking) "You can't do that when you're dead."

Vaggie: "That's not my fault."

Charlie: "Your choice though, right?"

Vaggie: "It’s not same thing-"

Charlie: "Yes it is. You want to be one who leaves."

Vaggie: "....... wouldn't you?"

Charlie: "...."

Vaggie: "..."

Charlie: "I don't.... want it to b- be like this."

Vaggie: "I know."

Charlie: "I want US! Not like this."

Vaggie: "I know, sweetie, I know... I'm so sorry-"

Charlie: "Stop it." (muffled in vaggie's hair) "You don't want this either, stop apologizing for it!"

Vaggie: "... I shouldn't have let you think, it could be different."

Charlie: "...."

Charlie: "It will be."

Vaggie: "Okay. Denial, that's a, normal step in-"

Charlie: "No- It WILL BE. I- We going to- we'll MAKE it different."

Vaggie: "I don't think we can..."

Charlie: "We will."

Vaggie: "Charlie-"

Charlie: "Damnit just trust me! If we can save a sinner's soul, then we can f-fucking save you."

Vaggie: "....."

Charlie: "Please, Vaggie. Can we try?"

Vaggie: "...it'll be a waste of time."

Charlie: "No it won't."

Vaggie: "We're already not gonna have forever together, sweetie. Why not just. Enjoy what we do have?"

Charlie: "I will! We will."

Charlie: "But we're going to have longer than one century for it."

Vaggie: "Half that, maybe..."

Charlie: "That's not the sound of trying. Vaggie. Please."

Vaggie: "...well... if you're gonna look at me like that about it..."

Charlie: "Don't joke about this."

Vaggie: "I'm not." (smile) "I just know better than to doubt Charlie Morningstar when she gets an idea into her cute, stubborn head."

Charlie: "All my head needs right now is an answer. One word. Clear. Honest."

Vaggie: "... alright. Yes. We can try."

Charlie: "Thank you." (kiss) "Thank you, thank you, thank you..."

Vaggie: "But you have to promise me. No deals. No selling souls- not for my sake, not even a little bit. Got it?"

Charlie: "Why are you so strict about this-"

Vaggie: "Because it's your soul."

Charlie: "-people make deals all the time! YOU made one with-"

Vaggie: "And it creeped me out even though it wasn't with my soul. Do you promise?"

Charlie: "This is a heaven thing isn't it?"

Vaggie: "Do you promise."

Charlie: "...."

Charlie: "I won't make, deals with anyone in hell, to save you."

Vaggie: (breathes out) "Then... we'll start by talking to Carmilla tomorrow."

Charlie: "TOMORROW!? But that-"

Vaggie: "Will give us time to figure out what we actually wanna SAY to Carmilla. She's still an Overlord, Charlie. Any info we give her she'll want to sure to keep her family safe first."

Charlie: "I know the fucking feeling..."

Vaggie: "So we're slowing this down and doing things carefully, so we do them right. Right?"

Charlie: "Right." (grumbling) "Fools rush in- blah blah BLAH."

Vaggie: "That's my girl."

Vaggie: (hesitates) (tentative smooch)

Vaggie: "Feeling better?"

Charlie: "Fine. I wish you'd stop asking ME that."

Vaggie: "Just glad you're not shaking so much anymore. Kinda scared me for a second."

Charlie: "I'm fine." (sighs) (hugs vaggie) "I didn't mean..."

Vaggie: "I didn't mean to scare you, too."

Charlie: "It's fine. You'll be okay."

Vaggie: "Mm. Already am."

Charlie: "And we're NOT looking for a replacement hotel manager."

Vaggie: "We're gonna need-"

Charlie: "NO."

Vaggie: "-okay. We'll hold off on it. We've got time."

Charlie: (holds her closer) (glares at distant light of heaven)

#hazbin hotel #vaggie #charlie morningstar #chaggie #incorrect quotes #angst #vaggie aged wings au #this is what happens when my cat wakes me up after 2 hours sleep with wet sandpaper in the face #i look at vaggie and go #“ok but what if she was dying?what if charlie was about to do something really stupid about it????”#ta-daa

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jessamine-rose · 5 months ago

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⋆˚♱ଘ Annular Eclipse ଓ♱˚⋆

A long time ago, I binge-watched The Ancient Magus’ Bride and that decision came back to haunt me in my Church AU…… *evil laugh*

As always, thank you to @diodellet for beta-reading this piece!! And to my dear mutuals, I hope you all suffer enjoy the sinful story of Cartaphilus! Pierro x Angel! Darling ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭

Tw:: yandere, blood, violence, death, suicidal ideation, religious abuse, MDNI

Note:: fictional depictions of religion

♡ 5.7k words under the cut ♡

♡ Among God’s creations, His favorite is granted a special fate. Though all lives end in death, only humanity is blessed with salvation and afterlife. Those who live righteously may thus ascend to Heaven, whereas sinners are condemned to eternal suffering in Hell. There is, however, one exception—a fragment of humanity whose sins may never be forgiven.

♡ Legends speak of Khaenri’ah, the nation of sinners. Once the pride of humankind, its citizens challenged God through their creations in alchemy and technology—and the entire nation was subsequently destroyed in a sea of flames. In the wake of the Cataclysm, pollen from the Tree of Life rained down upon the survivors, afflicting them with their final punishment, immortality.

♡ Since then, Khaenri’ahns have roamed the mortal plane in a perpetual state of living. Denied a place in Heaven and Hell, they are cursed to live forever no matter what harm befalls their body and psyche. Due to their wicked reputation, they must also live in fear of their once-fellow humans, lest they face persecution. For this reason, eternity differs among Khaenri’ahns, with a unique fate reserved for the one who goes by the name of Pierro.

♡ After the Cataclysm, Pierro led a group of survivors to Snezhnaya where they established a new home. For three centuries, it was a peaceful haven hidden from the divine gaze of God and the Church…until it was exposed by a traitor and destroyed with manmade flames. In the ensuing chaos, Pierro was the sole “survivor” in the sense that he managed to escape. The rest were critically wounded, buried alive, and left to suffer for all eternity.

♡ Having lost his second home, Pierro began a search for other Khaenri’ahns, only to be further disillusioned. Many communities had also fallen to ruin, if not from persecution but by their own madness. Others, blinded by dreams of death, had resorted to violence and witchcraft in their fruitless attempts to break the curse. And several individuals had embarked on quests for the Tree of Life, only to disappear far away from their homeland. In two more centuries, Khaenri’ah was reduced to a forgotten myth, and Pierro had lost all hope for his people.

♡ So when he gets into an accident, he sees no point in saving himself. If he were younger, he’d be horrified at the thought of falling off a cliff. At best, he’d end up with more scars albeit another permanent reminder of his tragic fate. As for the worst-case scenario, he’d become paralyzed, trapped below the cliff, doomed to eternity as a living corpse. But now, hanging off the edge by his fingertips, he considers the possibility that his head takes the brunt of the impact. A coma would be the closest thing to a reprieve from his waking hell.

♡ Just as his grip weakens, a hand reaches out and catches his wrist. The action is so sudden, so forceful, that Pierro has no time to think before he is pulled up and his back hits the grass. Above him, eclipsing his view of the sun, is the face of a stranger. A tearful expression. A kind gaze that seems to pierce through his soul.

“Are you hurt? Why didn’t you call for help?! You poor thing, I’m sorry for only seeing you now.”

“I am…” He averts your gaze and instead focuses on the sky. It is the color of twilight—a harmony of blues, oranges, and reds that pale in comparison to the crimson skies of his nightmares. “...fine. Thank you for your kindness.”

♡ Once the shock wears off, Pierro takes a careful look at his savior. You have the appearance of a typical human, roughly the same age as he was when his body stopped aging. Definitely not a Khaenri’ahn, given your lack of cursed marks and star-shaped pupils. Neither are there any religious symbols on your clothing, which is a relief. As for your tears shed on his behalf…he’ll chalk it up to pity.

♡ At your insistence, you treat him to a meal at the nearest inn. When Pierro introduces himself as an ordinary traveler, you make a similar claim and suggest journeying together. It is a tempting offer—the both of you are alone with no destination in mind, and you seem harmless. So against his better judgment, Pierro accepts your proposal.

♡ Over time, he warms up to his new companion. You are kind, competent, a bright presence in his life. Traveling with you is like seeing the world with new eyes—you lead him to bustling cities, picturesque forests, places teeming with life. The only downside is your visits to the Church for prayers and chats with the local priests, but you at least seem to be an open-minded believer. You always tell Pierro that he doesn’t need to follow along but he does so anyway, if only to evade suspicion and admire the religious art with you.

♡ Other than that, you don’t reveal much about yourself. But you aren’t one to pry into Pierro’s past so he gives you the same courtesy. At times, he finds himself looking at you fondly, feeling a spark of physical attraction, dreaming of a happy future with you. But those delusions are always dashed by the fact of your humanity, so he instead resolves to cherish what little time you have left before death claims your soul.

♡ That was his goal until he begins to notice certain…oddities. It’s common for the two of you to share a tent, a room, sometimes even a bed. Neither of you are fazed by it, especially when Pierro’s main concern is concealing his cursed marks with makeup. But a few months into your travels, he makes a quiet realization: In those nights of shared slumber, not once has he fallen asleep without feeling your gaze on him.

♡ At first, he assumes that you merely sleep later and wake up earlier than him. But every time Pierro wakes up in the middle of the night, you immediately sit up and tend to him, acting as energetic as usual. Neither do you appear lethargic after nights when it is difficult to sleep. So he puts it to the test by regularly chatting with you late into the night; you always follow along, not once sounding tired nor in want of sleep. Once, he talks to you all night long and in the morning, while Pierro is plagued with fatigue, you look perfectly awake. And only when he subtly points it out do you yawn and go back to bed.

♡ Other mysteries follow. There is the time the two of you trekked through a barren wasteland and ran out of food. It took you two days to reach civilization and while Pierro was starving, you never complained about hunger. If anything, you still managed to walk and fight off beasts at your usual energy levels. And on the rare chance that Pierro is injured, you are the one who treats his wounds…and they always heal at an unnaturally fast pace.

♡ A year into your travels, he decides to look for answers. One night, he shares a bed with you and feigns sleep. For the next few hours, he just lies there and takes note of your unnatural way of sleeping—no slowed breaths, no involuntary movements, yet the persistent feeling that he is still being watched. Shortly after midnight, he pulls out a dagger from under his pillow and aims it at you.

♡ It was only a test to see if you’d react quickly and reveal your ruse. Which is exactly what you do, eyes fluttering open and your hand catching the dagger before Pierro can stop short of stabbing your chest. The look on your face is calm, utterly devoid of fear, and you make no move to leave the bed. You just stare at him with the same piercing gaze.

“Good morning,” you tell him. “Are you going to explain the sudden wakeup call? I don’t believe this is rooted in any Khaenri’ahn practices.”

At the mention of his homeland, Pierro’s grip on the dagger tightens. “So it appears that my suspicions were not unfounded. Answer me, are you a spy of the Church?”

Your answer is a benevolent smile. A soft light shines from your body as a halo—silver, pierced with nails—appears behind your head, followed by a wispy veil. Luminous wings emerge from your back, caging Pierro in a feathery embrace.

Your hand, marked with a bloodstained scar, wraps around his wrist.

“I’m your guardian angel,” you whisper.

♡ Technically, your statement is untrue. In a calm voice, you explain that Khaenri’ahns can’t be assigned guardian angels due to their immortality. Moreover, most angels harbor contempt for his kind though you are a rare exception, having taken pity on Pierro and chosen to become his unofficial guardian. The last part triggers an offended response—are you mocking him?

♡ As for your true nature, you’re the leader of the Archangels. As an angel of the Third Sphere, you are one of the closest to humanity, a divine messenger with the additional tasks of providing blessings and guiding humans towards the path of righteousness. Only, you’re currently on a ten-year “break;” it just so happened that you noticed Pierro at the start of your sabbatical.

♡ Once he is confident that you won’t smite him in cold blood, he goes to sleep—it’s been a long night and fatigue will only dull his senses. When he wakes up, he can almost believe that last night’s events were a dream…until you loom over him in your true form, wishing him a good morning. After a long conversation, he decides to continue traveling with you. That way, he can keep a close eye on you and gain some useful knowledge.

♡ Thus resumes your journey. In addition to Pierro’s distrust, there are major changes to your dynamic. You still travel in your human guise but you switch to your true form when it’s just the two of you. Since angels don’t need food or sleep to sustain themselves, you stop eating with him unless you’re in public. At night, only one bed is needed and you simply watch over Pierro, wishing him a peaceful slumber. Your gentle gaze is always the last thing he sees each day, though it takes months before he can fall asleep comfortably.

♡ He also learns about your nightly pastimes. As it turns out, while Pierro is asleep, you like to fly around the city to help lost souls. Just small acts of kindness in your human form…and if needed, divine interventions in the Church. It explains why he often wakes up to news about corrupt priests who experienced “visions of an angel” and publicly confessed their sins.

♡ Along your journey, you also stop by the homes of the humans previously assigned to you. At the beginning of each visit, you go to the cemetery and speak to their grave. Afterwards, you bring Pierro to their favorite places and reminisce about their lives. When he asks why you can’t simply see them in Heaven, you give him a sad smile and explain that the deceased reside in a realm beyond the jurisdiction of angels. In a paradise where every soul is purged of sin, what use is there for an angel’s guidance?

♡ You mourn the lives of angels as well. It comes as a shock to Pierro, the idea that even an angel is susceptible to death. To which you explain that many of your divine siblings were killed by demons. And because afterlife does not exist for spiritual beings, both species simply cease to exist once their lives have ended. As for your former brethren, they cut all ties with you after their descent.

♡ Slowly, Pierro grows to trust you again. It helps that you were able to prove yourself a year later by saving him from your own kind. Granted, he could suspect that it was merely an act but the sight of a Principality cowering before you, their cassock staked to the floor by silver nails, is quite convincing. Not to mention your cold gaze overflowing with wrath.

“So tell me. Why exactly did you attack my dear human?”

The room is silent, save for the younger angel’s whimpers. To think that a few minutes ago, Pierro had been sleeping peacefully. Now he stands beside you, blood trickling from a cut under his scarred eye, still gripping his unused sword.

“I…” Despite being a rank above you, his attacker is clearly terrified. “But ______, that man…he is one of the accursed sinners! He—”

“Now, now.” You kneel to their level but all kindness is lost in your tone. More nails appear out of thin air, all pointing towards the angel’s body. “Look me in the eye when I am talking to you.”

♡ In the end, the angel kneels before Pierro and begs for forgiveness. He accepts their apology, but not without harsh words and a swipe of his sword against their face. After they leave, you worriedly turn to Pierro and heal his injuries. Thanks to your powers, all of his wounds close up without a trace. Still, when you take your hand off his face, what he sees in the mirror is not his healed cheek but the cursed marks exclusive to Khaenri’ahns.

*✧･ﾟ

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

Despite the nature of the attack, you are the one acting emotional. A tear rolls down your cheek as you trace the cursed side of Pierro’s face.

“You need not apologize on behalf of your brethren,” he mutters. He glances at his right arm, sleeve pulled up to reveal a similar pattern of blue veins and blackened skin. “...or your Heavenly Father. And I believe I’ve told you countless times not to waste your tears on me.”

“Still.” Shaking your head, you look him in the eye. “How can I not cry every time I gaze into your soul? I wish I could save you, put an end to your suffering…but it’s beyond my capability.”

“So why do you still devote yourself to me, ______?”

______. It is the false name you go by in the human realm, spoken by every person who has known you as their guardian angel. As for your true name, it remains a mystery to Pierro.

Still, he’d like to believe that he is the human who knows you best. He knows that you are the First Archangel, one of the oldest beings in existence. He knows that you were opposed to the Cataclysm but powerless in stopping it. He knows that your decade of rest was caused by an accumulation of stress, an endless cycle of giving and saving and sacrificing which will only continue in a few years’ time.

And what then? At the end of your journey, will you still have time for him? Or is he truly cursed to drift aimlessly in eternal solitude?

His half-mask rests on a nearby drawer, a relic from his second home. He picks it up, thumb pressed against a painted gold tear.

“You astound me,” he continues. “You, of all people, know that salvation is forever beyond my grasp. And yet you continue to spare me absolute grace. Anyone else would have deemed me a lost cause.”

“That is because I love you.”

At that, Pierro nearly drops his mask. He turns to you, starry eyes wide with wonder. “Can you kindly repeat that?”

But the moment he sees your face, he realizes his folly.

“I love you,” you tell him, a soft look in your eyes, “as I love all humans.”

Has kindness ever sounded so cruel?

“...I understand.” He puts down his mask, pride shattered. “Such is to be expected from a being for whom the love for humanity is inherent.”

A love which he and his compatriots are no longer beholden to.

“But of course.” At that, your countenance turns reverent. Your wings fold inwards, and you place a bloodstained hand over your chest. “An angel’s purpose is to serve God and to save His creations. Beyond that, there is no other point to our existence.”

Silence. This time, Pierro doesn’t bother to hide his judgment.

“Well, that is our initial reason,” you add, noticing his expression. “After all, what’s not to love when your kind is capable of so many wonderful things? Really, you never fail to surprise us.”

“How so?”

“I’ll confess, many of us angels were once in awe of Khaenri’ah,” you admit. “Think of it: Your people found a way to create life, sorcery, powers that were once exclusive to God. Had I met you during your days as a royal mage, I surely would have been impressed.”

Hard to say. Despite his previous status, Pierro hasn’t practiced Khaenri’ahn sorcery in years. It’s likely that his powers have eroded alongside his spirit.

“Then only a century after the Cataclysm, there was the Angel-Killer who performed miracles using our flesh. As a matter of fact…I made the mistake of assigning his first victim to him.”

Your grief isn’t lost on him. The bed creaks as you take a seat next to Pierro, adjusting the chain of mourning lockets around your waist. It bears mementos of both humans and angels.

“Thirteen angels lost their lives to him, including two of my dearest siblings. Needless to say, we were all relieved when Il Dottore finally died, though I had to be given a century’s worth of rest to recover from grief. Sohreh, Pasithea, Oizys…I still think of them to this day.”

Il Dottore. He is an infamous figure in history, a priest whose sins rivaled those of Khaenri’ah. And yet even he was granted the mercy of death.

“And there are the humans I was blessed to watch over,” you tell him, eyes shining with tears. “I remember all of their names, their smiles, every achievement they made in their short lives. And I’m sure that there will be more in the future.”

That is the final nail in the coffin.

“You are right.” With that, Pierro leaves the bed. “As such, there is no need for you to dwell on how the world is now. I have no doubt that many souls owe their salvation to you, ______, and anyone would be a fool to dismiss your efforts.”

“...Thank you. It means a lot.”

You don’t let him leave, however. A hand around his wrist is all it takes for Pierro to stop, to yield to your embrace. In the dim room, you are the only source of light, an idol of unparalleled benevolence. Divine, beautiful, yet never within his reach.

“Eight more years,” you tell him. In your eyes, his reflection has never looked more hopeful. “That is the amount of time we have left. And until then, I will never leave your side.”

*✧･ﾟ

♡ The next eight years are content. More travels. Deep conversations. Peaceful nights. Another angelic encounter, in which a subordinate merely reported to you and avoided Pierro’s gaze. At one point, you reveal to him that the Tree of Life is no longer in the human realm, eliminating any hope of breaking the curse. His devastation is softened by your comfort, and he can only imagine the reactions of his compatriots if they knew this truth.

♡ Not that he has anyone to share it with. In the Church of Fontaine, Pierro is surprised to recognize the head priest as a Khaenri’ahn. She is only a descendant and thus spared from the curse—a blessing for Arlecchino, a tragedy for her ancestor who likely mourned the generations between them. After their chat, Pierro leaves without divulging her lineage. It’s enough to know that one of his kind is leading a fulfilling life, though he finds it ironic that a Church ended up in a Khaenri’ahn’s hands.

♡ Other than her, there is the familiar face he spotted in Inazuma. Blond hair, blue eyes with star-shaped pupils, a distinctive half-mask…but before Pierro can approach Dainsleif, you grip his wrist and enable him to see the eagle-winged demon clinging to his former comrade. In a fearful whisper, you explain that she is one of Hell’s strongest demons, the slayer of countless angels. And when she turns in your direction, Pierro feels the weight of her crimson-gold glare. In the end, the two of you walk past them, preventing what could have been a bloody reunion.

♡ As your sabbatical reaches its end, Pierro finds himself making the most of your remaining time together. He smiles at you, holds your hand first, asks you more personal questions. Your travels also end in a surprise destination—a forest near Snezhnaya, concealed with divine mist. Leading the way, you explain that it was a meeting place for you and your closest siblings until they all perished, including the Virtue who created it. And when you turn to Pierro, asking if the area suits him…he accepts the gift with full gratitude.

♡ The last year is spent constructing a humble house in the heart of the forest. On the day of your departure, the two of you enjoy a final meal together. It’s bittersweet with recollections of your travels, though the mood dampens when Pierro asks about your angelic duties. With a sad smile, you tell him that you have a lot of work to do. At some point in your journey, you even laid eyes on a young human and applied for a position as their guardian angel.

♡ At midnight, Pierro goes to bed and you wish him good night for the last time. He only closes his eyes when you disappear, when he no longer feels your gaze on him, when the residual warmth of your embrace has been chilled by the night air. When he wakes up in the morning, you are nowhere to be found.

♡ In the following months, Pierro develops a new routine in the forest. Hunting, foraging, visiting the neighboring cities, admiring the aurora-colored sky, even practicing his Khaenri’ahn sorcery. He doesn’t see you again but there are hints of your visits—a luminous white feather, seeds for fauna exclusive to Mondstadt, a wound that healed overnight. Eventually, he gets used to sleeping in solitude again.

♡ One day, he decides to visit his old home. He knows it is futile to seek out his people; after two centuries, their bodies must’ve fully decayed and mixed with the soil. Still, he might as well see what the Church did with the area…and if he can take revenge on the traitor. So he packs his bags, leaves the forest, and travels to the other side of Snezhnaya.

♡ …There’s nothing left. When he reaches his destination, he finds a glorious city built over the mass grave of his people. Only the cold of eternal winter welcomes him back, but the entire city—the devout Snezhnayans, the stories of the city’s origins, the magnificent church in place of his old house—is unfamiliar. Not even the traitor remains. Perhaps they, too, were given a coffin, forever trapped below layers of ice and concrete.

♡ He gets an answer on his way back to the forest. Near the border of Snezhnaya, Pierro is ambushed by a group of heretics…and when he demands an explanation, their leader holds up a preserved eye, the pupil shaped like a four-pointed star. As their fight continues, Pierro deduces their motives—to achieve immortality using the flesh of Khaenri’ahns. It’s pure mockery to hear those fools refer to his curse as a blessing, but his warnings fall on deaf ears as he is outnumbered.

♡ Just as he is about to lose hope, a bright light shines above him. It’s you, in all of your angelic glory, commanding the heretics to let him go. Most of his attackers fall to their knees, in awe of your divine presence, but their leader interprets it as a sign that Pierro is truly the person they’re after. They swing their sword at him…only for their entire group to be impaled by your nails.

♡ It’s a bloody sight. But once your wrath has subsided, you fly down to Pierro and check his condition. You’re incoherent, healing his wounds with trembling hands, apologizing for your late arrival. He assures you that he is fine, only to be interrupted by a sudden ray of light. But this one is blindingly bright, coming from the sky, the same holy light which shone upon Khaenri’ah during the Cataclysm.

♡ It hits him just then: In harming those humans for his sake, you’d violated one of God’s orders. Yet in the midst of His divine wrath, you muster a false smile and tell Pierro to go home. Then you fly up into the sky, disappearing above the clouds along with the holy light. He does as he is told, but not without killing all of the heretics to ensure that they won’t come after him or more Khaenri’ahns. As for the traitor…he doesn’t bother to ask for their location.

♡ The forest is the same when he returns. The next few hours pass by in a blur—unpacking, checking the animal traps, cooking dinner, and so on. The whole time, he can’t stop worrying about you. He doesn’t know if God would listen to his prayers but he tries, anyway; it’s not like he can help you in any other way.

♡ He goes to bed early, only to jolt awake when a flash of light illuminates the bedroom. When he rushes to the window, it’s just in time to see a falling star. It shoots through the sky, outshining the auroras, a beautiful sight if not for the fact that it seems to be drawing closer to him. It disappears from his range of vision, followed by a deafening sound and a severe earthquake. Then the world falls silent, returning to its tranquil state.

♡ After a few minutes, Pierro leaves his house to investigate. Seeing how the meteor bypassed the divine barrier of the forest, he doubts it was a natural phenomenon. You once told him that the Fourth Order of angels, the Dominions, are in charge of the celestial bodies—could they have been ordered to destroy his third home?

♡ Thankfully, the destruction is limited to a crater at the edge of the forest. But instead of a meteor, he finds you curled up in pain. Fragments of your halo pierce your body. Your right wing is gone; all that remains of it are clipped feathers and sawed bone. Most prominent are the curved horns jutting from your head, covered in a mix of blood and torn skin. You became a demon.

♡ Your half-conscious cries prompt him into action. Carefully, Pierro carries you to his house and treats your wounds. When he notices your hand on your stomach, he remembers what you said about demons needing food and sleep to survive. So he heats up some soup and feeds it to you; and once your hunger has subsided, he tucks you in bed. In your delirium, you can only muster a single sentence before falling asleep.

“Pierro? I’m sorry…it’s my fault, not yours.”

“Silence. We may talk tomorrow. But tonight, you must rest.”

♡ That night, you sleep for the first time. Pierro watches you all night, checking your pulse every so often. When you wake up, the sun is high above the sky and Pierro has already cooked lunch. You’re more coherent now, able to feed yourself, though you wince in pain every so often. And when Pierro asks about your descent, your expression darkens.

♡ In a shaky voice, you explain that the heretics’ ambush had been a test from God. It was fated to occur at the same time as an important event in Heaven, the decennial meeting between God and the leaders from all Nine Orders. As soon as Pierro’s name was brought up, you were quick to defend him. And when you were informed of the attack, you stormed out of the meeting to save him, fully aware that it would bring about your downfall.

♡ And despite it all, you’re the one apologizing to him—for your late arrival, for the danger he was put through, for the “burden” of taking care of you. At the last part, Pierro finally finds the words to chastise you, to say that you won’t achieve anything by wasting your tears on Heaven.

“I wish you would not think so lowly of me. After all these years, do you truly believe that I would harbor anything but gratitude towards you?”

♡ That shuts you up. For the next few weeks, you meekly accept Pierro’s care—he cooks for you, dresses your wounds, lets you sleep in his bed. There is only one problem: Your body refuses to heal. Blood continues to seep from your wounds, and you’re in a perpetual state of pain. Still, he faithfully tends to you day and night. It’s the least he can do for you.

♡ One day, he leaves the house to pick fruit and comes back to find a dark silhouette in his bedroom window. He rushes inside, armed with a weapon, to find a demon. Only, they’re kneeling by the bed, holding your hands, shedding tears of joy. That is when he notices the bloodstained scars on their hands, their tattered veil, your kind words for them…they, too, are a fallen Archangel.

♡ All peace, however, is dashed when your former subordinate tells Pierro that they are bringing you “home,” in other words Hell. As for the matter of your health, they claim that while your divine punishment is unheard of, they should be able to find a cure…from Il Dottore of all people. And despite your conflicted expression, it’s clear that you are seriously considering their invitation. Only for Pierro to take that choice away from you.

“And what makes you believe that I would allow ______ to leave our home?”

♡ Prior to you, Pierro never would’ve dared to challenge a spiritual being. But now, after all he’s been through, he takes a step forward and tells the demon to leave. It doesn’t take long for their argument to turn physical. But before the demon can smite him, Pierro defends himself with his Khaenri’ahn sorcery. They’re a formidable opponent, however, and the fight continues until he aims a galaxy-like aura at their heart. Quickly, you protect your former subordinate with a shield of rusty nails, only for the element to refract and hit you instead.

♡ Much to everyone’s relief, however, it has a different effect on you. Your feathers take on a black tint and a deep blue iridescence. The same thing happens to your horns. Most importantly, all of your wounds close up, leaving scars identical to Pierro’s cursed marks. And when he rushes to your side, asking if you are all right, you breathily tell him that you feel so much better.

♡ That is what convinces the demon to leave, but not without promising to return once they’ve informed the Devil. With peace restored in your home, the two of you go downstairs for lunch. You still need Pierro to support you, but it’s the first time you’ve managed to walk in your new form. And your appetite is bigger, healthier compared to your previous portions.

♡ After a few days however, the effect wears off. Your body loses its blue luster, your feathers fade to their original color, your pain returns. Once you’ve fully reverted to your original state, Pierro decides to try out his Khaenri’ahn sorcery again. This time, he holds your wrist and carefully channels his power into you…and it produces the same healing effect.

♡ For the sorcery which doomed his nation to save the life of his beloved…the irony leaves him at a loss of words, on the verge of laughing. But it does explain why you landed in Pierro’s home instead of Hell, and why God allowed the two of you to reunite. The knowledge brings a dark smile to his face. You’re at his mercy now, dependent on him for all eternity.

♡ When he faces you, he can tell that you’ve reached the same conclusion. Still, you entertain the thought of moving to Hell—surely, there must be a way for you to live without forcing Pierro to expend his energy on you. That is when he grips your hands, pulls you towards him, and tells you that you aren’t leaving him. If the two of you are truly fated to suffer, then it is only right that he returns all of the love you have given him.

♡ It’s easy to persuade you. After all you’ve experienced, you’re tired so you just nod and lean into his embrace. And in the following days, you slowly adjust to your new life. You help Pierro around the forest. A new bed is built, to fit two people. At night, the two of you engage in your usual bedtime conversations but you’re the one who falls asleep first.

♡ When your former subordinate returns, Pierro stands his ground. With you asleep, he is able to fight them outside and easily subdue them; he even had the wisdom to enhance his weapons with blood from your used bandages. And with his argument that any attempt on his life is equal to risking yours, they have no choice but to accept your situation.

♡ You’re still asleep when he returns to your shared bedroom. Careful not to wake you, he changes out of his bloody clothes and leaves his sword on the table, next to his old mask. Then he takes off his glove and traces your features with his cursed hand. And when you open your eyes, the look he gives you is one of pure hope.

“Pierro? What time is it?” you mumble.

“Far too early,” he replies. “Go back to sleep. I will join you shortly, ______.”

“...All right.” Yawning, you snuggle into the pillow and close your eyes. “Can you wake me up later? I don’t want to oversleep again.”

He smiles, caressing your cheek. “If you wish.”

It doesn’t take long for you to return to the world of dreams. Your sleeping face is truly a wonder to behold—an expression so tranquil, well-rested, vulnerable to his kiss.

“And when you awake, I want you to tell me your true name.”

♡

More Church AU here!! Dottore ๑ Capitano ๑ Arlecchino ๑ Pantalone ๑ Dainsleif

Note:: Please do not send me any Church AU asks/ requests involving characters or dynamics not included in my masterlist.

..…Don’t ask me how Pierro ended up with the highest word count in this AU. All I can say is that it was very cathartic to make him suffer, which is a recurring theme in his fics. If y’all enjoyed his story, do let me know (๑･̑◡･̑๑)

Also, soft launch for the next couple + story!! I’m rlly excited to write for Dainsleif, and just know that he’s in for a lot of surprises <3

Tag a Pierro enjoyer!! @leftdestiny-posts @beloved-blaiddyd @naraven @euniveve @stickyspeckledlight @harmonysanreads @oofasleep @mistymem0ryy @lazyroseart @teabutmakeitazure

#pierro #pierro x reader #yandere pierro x reader #yandere pierro #yandere fatui harbingers #fatui x reader #genshin x reader #tw: yandere #tw: dark #tw: blood #tw: violence #tw: death #tw: sui ideation #mdni #g/n reader #jessamine-writing

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