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undiscovered-horizon · 2 years ago

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"The Just and the Wicked" - Morpheus x Wisdom!Reader

[TW: blood, violence, suicide, explicit language]

A/N: Watched Sweetbitter (2018) and honestly it was more of angry binging. Those people were ✨frustrating✨ me. I have already made up so much lore about Pillars of Eternity I keep a separate file in Evernote.

[Check out 'Pillars of Eternity'!] | [Next part: 'Que sera, sera'] | [Sandman-inspired playlist]

SUMMARY: Your idyllic life with Morpheus is interrupted by the visit of your brother, Decay, who informs you that one of Karma's agents, a Palace of Justice, had died. The mystery becomes only stranger when an ancient, unholy fraction seems to be involved - the same one that surely helped Rodrick Burgess in capturing you.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 9k

We meet again, dear student! Have you met Hermes again? Well, perhaps he's grown fond of you. I know I have. You are such a great listener, always asking brilliant questions and never interrupting. But enough about you.

You know why you're here, there's no need for me to ask such a rhetorical question. It is also the reason we keep on meeting again and again. Last time we spoke of dreams, wisdom and the strange gift of divinity their union provided. Today, I'd like to tell you a story that my mother used to tell me. In fact, I've heard it from her so many times during my childhood that I'd grow furious any time I heard the word 'karma'. It is only in my old age that I finally understand the importance of this tale. Tell me, when you think of justice, what comes to your mind?

Themis? A great choice! Curiously, she does appear in the story I'm about to tell you. But let me start from the beginning. The coexistence of Decay and Wisdom created Karma. She's not a Pillar of Eternity and neither is she one of the Endless, therefore she falls into the grey area, a truly bottomless sack of wonders, commonly called the Sacra. When humans came into existence, Karma began to have more work than she could possibly handle, so she asked the Pillars to give her something to help her. That's how Themis was created. Her sole purpose was to make sure that justice reigns in the human realm but even justice is a very complex phenomenon. Themis decided to ask Karma for messengers that will deliver different kinds of justice to people. Those messengers are the Palaces of Justice. There are seven of them, well, there used to be seven of them and the circumstances of the death of one of them, the Lion, are the subject of this tale. Everything began when my uncle, Decay, visited my parents in the Dreaming:

The branches of the hazel tree quietly rustled above you as a gentle breeze shyly swayed them in a primaeval dance. A murder of crows sat in the tree but not even Mother Nature could force those ominous birds to interrupt your meditation with their cawing. They were quietly perched on the branches, prepared to take flight into other realms should you ask them to or scare away any distraction that might come your way. The world around was silent but never empty. With each deep breath, your nostrils were filled with the pleasant fragrance of wet soil and hazelnuts but not for too long:

You knew he came and you were sure he was well aware of that. The air in Dreaming suddenly became unbearably sweet as if the unnaturally strong aroma was supposed to cloud senses, distract anyone in the vicinity from something else, something much darker and bleak. The crows above you began cawing nervously as if trying to scare away a mare they couldn't see or inform you of a danger they couldn't name as though the air itself became some eldritch evil. Out of the Pillars of Eternity, Decay had always been the most social one but even he made sure to notify beforehand of his nigh arrival. It was strange for him to show up unannounced - strange enough that you began to suspect something terrible had taken place.

As you stood up, the murder of crows took flight, each one of them travelling to different parts of Dreaming or entirely foreign realms but they will be back the moment you sit down under the hazel tree again - they always are. Their nervous caws filled the air, announcing to each world in this universe that Wisdom watches and listens. Your rushed footsteps echoed through the empty marble palace creating an impression of an entire army following you into the lion's den. Somewhere halfway through your march, you run into Lucienne who, without a doubt, was looking for you to spread the news of Decay's unexpected arrival.

"My lady-" she began.

"I know, Lucienne," you cut her off. "Thank you, nonetheless."

Her surprised stare only followed you as you walked past her and disappeared around the closest corner. But Lucienne had many other affairs to tend to, so she simply carried on with whatever needed her attention next.

Aside from Morpheus, there was someone else in the throne room: he seemed a little too mature to be called a boy but definitely too youthful to be titled a man. His lightly tanned body looked soft and pudgy, conjuring thoughts of warm summer afternoons filled with ripe fruit, laughter and carelessness. Angel-like golden locks fell down his shoulders, glistening in the bright light that crept through the tall stained glass windows in the back of the hall. The guest was talking about one of his adventures in a very animated manner and judging by Morpheus's exhausted face, it surely wasn't the first story he was forced to listen to on that day. Hearing your approaching footsteps, both of them looked in your direction:

"Dear sister!" the young man exclaimed. He was dressed in a white robe that could hardly be called 'decent'. The fairly high-pitched voice, in which he spoke, painted him as even younger than his already quite childish appearance. To your dismay, that tacky seashell necklace was still around his neck. "My heart swells at the sight of you! I apologize for not notifying you about my visit but I'm afraid I'm not here to ponder our relationship and the lovely memories we share."

"Then what is it, Decay?" you asked as you made your way towards him. Being so close to him felt like a mouthful of rose syrup. "The longer you stay in Dreaming, the more its genius loci shall rot towards oblivion. Speak fast, brother."

Decay leaned in towards you. His indigo eyes were bright and his smile as lovely as it was wide, making it a truly ridiculous idea that he was the one making flowers wilt and flesh dissolve. Yes, he was, in fact, akin to the Trojan horse. "I know the spear is in here, Wisdom. My presence will not make a cloud disappear underneath your sky," he whispered. "Speaking of your sky, I'm quite... underwhelmed with your choice of a husband. Is he always this grumpy? You could have gone for someone more, well, similar to you. I'm sure Odin wouldn't think twice before accepting an offer."

The mere mention of that entitled one-eyed man made your head ache. Each day he did not try to strike a deal with you was a blessing. "Abyss shall grow eyes before I consider Odin as something more than an annoyance."

"Now that would be a day, dear sister." Decay could barely contain his excitement. "Do you think having eyes would make him look a little less, you know, empty?"

The thought elicited a quiet chuckle from both of you. Although it was nice to talk to Decay and carelessly joke around like you had done many times before, he was still yet to explain his unforeseen appearance.

"Really, Decay, why did you come here?" you coaxed once the laughter subsided. "To jest? To insult?"

For a moment, he stared at you with a strangely triumphant expression that seemed like genuine happiness only superficially - there was mischief, viciousness in his eyes as though he was gloating at possessing knowledge you did not share with him. After he got his presumed satisfaction, Decay stepped away from you to resume his monologue. You noticed that Morpheus's stern gaze never left your brother's physique as he casually strolled through the throne room. Was Dream expecting trouble? A sudden offence? "I came to inform you about a strange occurrence that needs your insight. I visited Karma not too long ago but not out of my own will. One of the Palaces died."

"Palaces of Justice?" Morpheus repeated slowly. His eyebrows furrowed instantaneously and it was a quite understandable reaction to anyone who knew a thing or two about those strange creatures. "How can a Palace of Justice die?"

"Not by a mortal hand nor by the hand of the Endless," you answered in quiet thoughtfulness. "Is there anything more you've learned, Decay? Tell me, what barbarity preceded this act of treason?"

"Truthfully, I do not know any more than Karma does. Unlike Death," Decay paused to look meaningfully in Dream's direction, "I do not gossip with my subjects, therefore Lion himself did not tell me about his passing. But I did, however, come into possession of something that you might find attractive. It is also, I believe, the very trail at which your insight begins, dear sister."

From the scarce folds of his revealing robe, Decay took out a torn piece of material. It was silvery white, glistening in the diffused rays that lit up Morpheus's palace. There seemed to be something embroidered in a dark thread but the tear run in the middle of the design, making it impossible to tell with utmost certainty what it had once presented. Extrapolating from the remaining lines, one could assume that the silvery, silky material once had an open eye inside a triquetra embroidered on it. There was only one unholy fraction that proudly wore such a sigil:

"Brothers of the Final Truth," you whispered to yourself while still examining the torn material. Finding it on your path, however, posed as many questions as it did answers, dissipating the unpenetrated mists of ignorance. "Without a doubt, the ones that told Rodrick Burgess of Metatron's Cube."

"Well then, I should leave you to it. There are still flowers to wilt and empires to fall. I'd hate to make them wait. Farewell, dear sister." Decay politely bowed his head towards you before looking at Morpheus with a cocked eyebrow and a smirk. "Dream of the Endless."

As Decay disappeared, so did the suffocatingly sweet rose smell. You pondered his words - he knew the Spear of Ages was in the Dreaming, at least part of it. The only way for him to know that was if he had tried to make something rot, that sly old fox...

When your brother was finally gone, you swore you could hear Morpheus sigh to himself. He was still sitting on one of the last steps, as he usually did. Dream had a habit of sitting in a quite not noble fashion with his shoulders slouched, back hunched but Decay's leave made his shoulders fall further down as if the visit was a physical burden on him. Perhaps, despite the presence of the Spear of Ages, Morpheus felt a strange heaviness weighing him down, a sudden and inexplicable urge to lie down and close his eyes, even for a moment. "Is your brother usually like this?" he asked in a low voice.

"Funny you should ask. He said the same thing about you."

Perhaps at another time and in another place, they could even be friends.

Entering Karma's residence, the very first thing that grabbed the visitor's attention was the floor or rather a generous interpretation of that term. Underneath a guest's feet was not marble tiling but polished glass that revealed a... pond. Pleasantly fat koi fish leisurely swam in the water of a shade a little too blue to be considered a natural wonder. The carps as if used to anthropomorphic giants walking across their sky, seemed unbothered by another pair of feet stepping over them. Seeing them, a pang of envy erupted in the onlooker's chest: to have no care in the world and a full stomach! What a wonderful fate that was.

Leading away from the throne room were granite corridors with high ceilings and greek pillars. Similarly to Dream's palace, Karma's castle appeared completely empty, deserted even, but given the Hellenistic architecture, there was something poetic to these halls as though they were a forgotten museum or, perhaps, the museum of the forgotten.

"Look above you, Morpheus," you spoke softly as you nudged his shoulder. "I'm honoured to present to you the Palaces of Justice."

There, on the great dome of Karma's castle was a beautiful renaissance fresco. The scene presented a meadow or fields filled with tall grass and neatly trimmed thujas. Among the greenery, however, lurked seven animals: lion, hawk, camel, snake, tiger, jaguar and ox. They each seemed to be aggressive towards all the others but none of them was actually attacking. Curiously, all of them were painted with golden crowns on their heads. It would have been an otherworldly fresco in its grandeur if it wasn't for a strange detail: where the heads of the snake and lion once were, pieces of the ceiling had fallen off. In the middle of the fresco, surrounded by the animals as though they were a wreath, was a scale with a human skull on one side and a decorative globe on the other. In fact, the scale and the mysterious artefacts were identical to the ones standing at the centre of Karma's throne room.

"It's... impressive," he said in an absent voice as he continued to admire the painting.

"Because it's quite far from the truth, I suppose," you answered before walking further into the palace.

In the back of the spacious hall, on the throne which looked more like a decorative park bench to be fair, sat Karma herself. The silky, purple material of her exceptionally long chakkraphat pooled at her feet, falling in cascades down the steep stairs leading up to her exalted seat. The tiny peacocks embroidered on the material looked nearly alive with the amount of detail and vivid colours the unnamed tailor had put into them. Karma’s right arm might not have been covered by her shimmering dress but the densely done mehndi made it impossible to see her olive skin anyway. Red and white paint was covering her face, which wasn't exactly easy to see as she had a habit to fan herself excessively.

Noticing Morpheus and you, Karma hurriedly got up from her throne and bowed so low she nearly sat cross-legged on the floor. Perhaps she did but got up so effortlessly it was hard to tell. In any case, she stayed standing instead of sitting down once more, although it wouldn't be considered impolite as they were guests in her realm.

"My lady Wisdom!" she exclaimed in a nervous voice. "Forgive me but I was not aware of your nigh visit. I'm afraid I can not welcome you as I should."

"Do not fret, Karma," you assured her. "I am here because Decay told me of Lion's passing. I was hoping you could tell me more about this tragedy."

Her eyebrows slanted and she fell down on her throne despite her desire to show you the utmost respect. Considering the amount of paint she wore, her face resembled more of a noh mask rather than something organic. Should one of her muscles twitch a little too intensely, the layers of dried makeup would probably peel right off.

"I do not know much, at least not enough to solve this gut-wrenching mystery," Karma spoke in a plaintive voice. The lability of her emotions seemed surprising at best when one considered that she was the effect of your and Decay's coexistence - neither of you was exceptionally sensitive. "I learned of Lion's passing only when master Decay arrived at my palace. Not an alarm was raised before that, not even a worried whisper reached my ears."

Having experienced unrest among his subjects himself, Morpheus furrowed his eyebrows at Karma's statement of genuine obliviousness. How could she not know that one of her people died? "Have you not noticed anything strange?" he asked.

"The scale remains balanced, Lord Morpheus." She gestured towards the scale with a skull and a globe that stood behind you. "As it has been for the past thousands of years."

"What of Lion?" you continued the inquiry. "Did he appear out of the ordinary?"

"I do not believe so. Had anything happened to him, I'm sure Themis would have told me."

Considering different possible scenarios of Lion's last moments, you found yourself looking at the fresco again. The teeth and sheer scale of the animals painted beamed with might and pride. Alas, two of them were no longer part of this exalted fellowship and one could only wonder whether such losses had something in common.

"I remember the day Viper was exiled," you spoke up after a moment of thoughtful silence. "Human hearts began to tremble and never stopped, even to this day. Feelings of guilt haunt them both when they're awake and in their dreams..." drawing out your monologue, you looked at the mistress of the palace again. "Has she returned ever since?"

"She remains exiled," Karma answered with certainty. Nervous, she seemed to fan herself more frantically. "If Viper had returned, I would be immediately notified, my lady."

"I do not doubt the loyalty or competence of your subjects, Karma. What I'm suggesting is that Viper can make others believe quite literally anything with her silver tongue and poisonous words. It is not beyond her power to make your guards believe they had never seen her."

Your words echoed through the empty palace like a brass bell that tolls to announce someone's passing. Karma left her mouth open agape. Even her experienced wrist stopped fanning her for a moment. Those big, violet and theatrically teary eyes stared at you with unspeakable horror and woe as though you had said something completely unthinkable. Even the peacocks on her fan seemed to have their dead, vacant gaze set on you.

"Those are dreadful words, your worship," she quietly stated. Had her voice been any lower, one might have assumed it was but a gust of wind, chiming and whistling as it travelled through the empty granite halls.

"That they are, my dear," you continued. One might have wondered how come such a frail, sensitive creature had to overlook something so important like the balance of the universe? "But that doesn't make them any less true. Would Viper have any reason to kill Lion?"

"Barbarity is in her nature, I'm afraid." Karma resumed the fanning motion. For a moment, her gaze fell to the floor, admiring the careless koi fish underneath your feet. "Themis should be more acquainted with any possible grudges the Palaces might hold against one another. Should I call for her, my lady?"

"It would prove very helpful."

In a sharp, echoing thud, Karma folded her fan giving all the prying eyes an exceptionally rare possibility of seeing her entire face. Holding the wooden accessory in her hand, she hit the gong standing beside her throne. The low but bright sound resounded through the palace, bouncing off the walls in a cacophony that brought pain to your head and vibration to your bones.

From one of the long, empty halls emerged a tall, muscular woman. Her dark, wavy hair danced on the wind as she walked but not as wildly as it, probably, wanted to - a piece of thick material wrapped around her eyes was restraining its frolicking. The textile was originally white, starting to grey with time and grime, but that was not the change in colour one should have been paying attention to: there were two brown, circular stains where her eyes presumably were. The woman walked barefoot with her arms stretched out far in front of her. On top of them, she carried a steel sword. As water underneath her feet reflected bright light coming through the tall windows, it created beautiful, dancing meanders on the floor-facing side of the blade. Something about her appearance made Morpheus flex the muscles of his back and shoulders as if he was checking whether he's standing straight enough.

"I have arrived, my lady Karma," the woman spoke in a low voice. Although she didn't speak very loudly, her words seemed to be carried especially well through the domed throne room. It was as if the sound of her voice was not heard by your ears but by the very fibre of your body. "How can I be of assistance?"

"Themis, whatever my guests ask you, you must answer."

"Of course, my lady Karma."

Turning to face Morpheus and you, Themis grabbed the handle of the sword and putting both of her hands around it, shoved the tip of the blade into the glass flooring. Thankfully, it did not break. The fish seemed greatly unmoved by the almost catastrophe. Humans could learn a thing or two from them.

Closely watching the deity, you strolled around Themis, taking in her form from all angles. Morpheus, on the other hand, stood beside the two of you and simply stared at your strange method of interrogation. "Since her exile, did Viper return to this palace?" you asked

"I have not seen Viper, the Palace of Justice, since my lady Karma decided to exile her," Themis answered in an official tone. Her voice remained unwavering.

"You did not answer the question, Themis," Morpheus stated. The goddess of justice, however, remained unmoved at this accusation and simply awaited your further inquiry.

"Do you know what happened to Lion?"

"I do not know how Lion, the Palace of Justice, died."

You stopped your bizarre activity to look at Themis's face. Like a marble statue, it remained unmoved but not in the same way Morpheus refused to be open about his emotions. Although she was a lot closer creation-wise to humans than him, not a speck of humanity seemed to reside under her skin. But that observation could hardly be surprising, not to you at least - it was your own design, all of it. A shiver of suspicion danced along your spine. She wasn't lying but she wasn't truthful either. Perhaps there must come the day when children turn on their parents, even metaphorically.

Morpheus inconspicuously leaned in to voice your own thoughts: "She knows what happened but refuses to tell."

"We have to trust that her silence is meaningful and not an omen of ill will," you whispered back but never let Themis out of your sight. "Perhaps by not telling us the truth, proper justice can be delivered." Only then did you speak up: "You are dismissed, Themis."

"Thank you, your worship," she answered.

Effortlessly, Themis pulled her shining sword from the glass floor. The rift where the blade once resided sealed itself, leaving absolutely no indication that even a scratch fell on the glass. Once again holding her sword in a strangely offering manner, the goddess of justice bowed low in front of you. Then, she turned around and left the throne room, disappearing around one of the antique, granite pillars decorating Karma's castle.

"We shall take our leave, Karma. You have been most helpful. Until this lonely path unites us again, my dear."

"I will await that day, your worship," she answered. By the sound of her voice, you could tell she was smiling, although the frantically moving fan was in the way of confirming your suspicion.

Having exchanged your farewells, you turned around and marched towards the entrance. Koi carps still swam under your feet without a care in the world, while the mighty Palaces of Justice stared at your back from the ceiling. Despite having no face on the fresco, you felt the eyes of Viper and Lion burning into your skin - one stalking and one pleading but both equally furious. Out of the corner of your eye, you looked at Morpheus's sharp features, so serious and regal but he couldn't fool you even if he tried. Dream of the Endless was dealing with things well above his 'paygrade', forces that were beyond him in the great scheme of creation. His blood, should he shed even a drop during this strange investigation, will stain your skin through all the cycles that are yet to happen. For the first time in long aeons, you were responsible for someone's life. By the warmth with which you had welcomed such a burden, you could tell that you'd aged.

The doors separating Karma's palace from the rest of her realm had a scene carved into each of the wings: one side presented a pack of wolves hunting a hare while the other showed a group of men aiming their rifles at a wolf. That's what Karma really stood for - an eye for an eye, a life for a life. When they were forced to open or close, the mechanism moving the door let out a rhythmic ticking, easily confused with the sound of a clock. Perhaps it was a silly coincidence or Karma wanted to remind each and every person that crossed the threshold of her land, that nothing in the universe is static. If you're hunting the hare, beware of the men with rifles because they will come. They always find you just like you always find the hare.

"Sad thing what happened to dear Lion," a male voice spoke up. He had a rough accent, vividly pronouncing his Rs. "He was a good lad, always bravely taking on whatever Themis threw at him. Honestly, I kind of felt bad for him after the last... perplexity. In his defence, he really thought he had it."

The man had dark skin roughly the colour of a brick. His luscious black hair was braided into a complex coiffure decorated with various feathers, each belonging to a different bird and only some of them came from earthly animals. He was dressed in a hand-weaved vest with nothing underneath it. Despite his strong, handsome features, his face looked somehow mischievous and vicious but that could easily be accredited to the white, long scar running straight down his face. Around him, the air smelled of musk and pine needles as though he was a forest beast only pretending to be a young man. In a quite defying manner, considering who he was speaking to, the stranger was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed on his chest.

"What perplexity do you mean, Hawk?" you coaxed him but, truthfully, you had hardly any hope to learn anything significant from him. If Hawk had any relatives, he'd sell them just to strike a personal deal with someone - that's the kind of creature he was. Despite such... affliction, he was proficient at his duties as a Palace of Justice, therefore everyone simply went along with his aggravating business model.

"Now that is a really good question, your worship: what do I mean?" he continued in a thrilled voice. A mischievous smile appeared on his face revealing his strangely sharp teeth. "I suppose I could tell you, I probably even should, but I'm a beast of business, not charity."

"You are in no place to make demands," Morpheus warned him.

"And you are in no place to dismiss my offer," he answered without the smallest falter in his smile. "Desperation is a sweet, sweet thing, Dream of the Endless."

Perhaps it was beneath you to submit to an egotistic agent of a Sacra's servant but the possibility of someone capable of killing Palaces of Justice simply running around unaccounted for was far worse. "What do you want?"

"I may have the best sight in this cycle but there is one place even my sight can not reach," Hawk spoke as he leaned towards you in a secretive manner, "Dreaming, the universe's unconscious. Bring me a feather from the tail of his raven," Hawk motioned towards Morpheus standing right next to you, "and I will tell you what I know."

You simply stared at him for a moment, pondering the consequences of your choice. But this... this you can just as freely take away as you give it. Out of thin air, with a graceful flick of your wrist, you conjured a black feather. It had a slight golden shimmer to it. "You will find this one sufficient," you stated as you handed the feather to Hawk.

Hawk studied the feather for a moment. His delicate hand brushed against the softness of the gift. "Yes, it should work just fine..." Examining it from all angles, Hawk finally reached into his long hair and threaded the new feather into one of his small braids. "Now, the case of our dear Lion. All of it is a real tear-jerker, your worship. Have you heard of the butterfly effect? You know, one small thing leading to a series of horrible events that only a person with more than one brain cell could predict? So, our little lion cub was deceived one time. Black magic that even made me shudder, no doubt the work of one of the Brothers of the Final Truth. It's funny that they claim to be this ancient, exclusive cult but if you can prove you're deranged enough they will let you in on a secret or two. In any case, someone got a hold of a Serpent Lock sigil, effectively locking Lion away from a considerable part of the truth. Everything was pointing at the teenage girl, so he did this heavenly duty of executing justice. Get it? Executing? Anyway, it turned out that it was the girl that put the Serpent Lock on the grimoire or some dairy and only after her untimely death did Lion learn what had actually happened. Long story short, he dealt with the wrong person and it should have been the mother. For the first time in this cycle, justice was served wrong and on top of that, the funniest part of this shit, it was the poster boy that did it."

"So Viper had nothing to do with this?" Morpheus asked. You caught his quick stern gaze as though the two of you were exchanging thoughts and theories.

"Quite the contrary. You need to learn to keep up, Lordy Morphy. She's the sole reason I'm telling you this story. Think about this: Lion, the symbol of power, family, strength, bravery and fuck knows what else, kills himself. It even sounds weird, doesn't it? That's when my slithering sister comes in with her guilt-tripping and intrusive thoughts. She whispers a thing or two, Lion stupidly listens, scratches his face off and scene!"

"I was under the impression that Viper and you don't cross paths as a rule," you questioned Hawk's honesty. Whenever these two were in each other's field of vision, catastrophes liked to stroll by but no one could tell anymore why they were like that. "Why change your mind now?"

"Lion's gone and, just like when that slimy serpent was exiled, the ones who are left have to clean up their mess. Doing my own load was enough but taking on theirs? That's ridiculous. I want Viper to get her own decisions to bite her in the ass, finally. You know, my lady, it's quite funny how she always manages to get out of every mess just fine."

"You're a Palace of Justice, Hawk," you reminded him. Somehow, in all those long centuries, he had forgotten the splendour of his own title or, perhaps, got too comfortable with it. "Vengeance is beneath you." The contempt in your voice made Morpheus slightly shift his body in discomfort.

"And what is justice if not lawful vengeance?" Hawk answered you. Clearly, he wasn't there to listen to your preaching. He was done with the drama he had to be part of. "Anyway, there are no rules regarding violence among Palaces, so I trust that you're the one who's going to make a judgement in this case. Themis's sword can't call Viper anymore but it shouldn't be a problem. Here." From the pocket of his saggy, sand-coloured pants, Hawk pulled out a handful of scales that had a strange glisten to them. "Toodles."

With such a perfect summary of his careless disrespect, he changed from his human form into an actual hawk and flew away. In truly comedic timing, both you and Morpheus let out a tired sigh. Dealing with Hawk may have been infuriating but you had Viper's scales - and that meant you could summon her.

"What manner of a feather was that?" Morpheus asked with a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"If you're asking whether I pluck a feather from your beloved Jessamy's tail, I did not. Think, dear Morpheus, who could have allowed your messenger to effortlessly travel between realms?"

His gaze lingered on you as though at first he didn't quite believe the implication. Then, a small smile crept unto his face as his expression beamed with wonder. The more he knew about you, the stronger he felt that all of him and Dreaming were a dollhouse you carved with your own hand. Left alone for a day too long, the dolls of the house began living on their own but the mark of their creator remained.

But that sense of wonder and awe washed away in favour of his ever-broad ego. "Was it truly necessary to succumb to Hawk's fractious demands?"

"Do not be mistaken, Morpheus, I did not want to give in to Hawk but there is not much else we can do at this point. This is one of those choices humanity always fails: pride or progress? Whether I complete his request or not, he will remain only a Palace of Justice and I will remain the Pillar of Eternity."

One day he was bound to learn from you that confidence was silent, it neither boasts nor demands but remains humble as it makes the right choice; a head unbowed is a head that favours clout over its true worth.

"What now, Wisdom? We have no way of knowing where Viper resides. As much as I dislike this, we could ask the three Graces."

Truthfully, they were only slightly more likeable compared to Odin. "That will not be necessary. The scales Hawk gave me will summon Viper but only if they're burnt in the same realm she's in. For now, I'm afraid I have to agree with you: there is no way for us to know where she is. You, dear Morpheus, should scour the dreams in search of the cult's sigil. They have to sleep at some point and if they are anything but dead, they must be somewhere."

"They taught Rodrick Burgess how to imprison you," his voice wavered with anger. It was a strange thing to be the subject of someone's worry. Even stranger when that subject was incomparably more powerful that the worrier. Perhaps love's voice was a little louder than reason's. "It's dangerous to seek them out."

You looked into Morpheus's blue eyes. Most of the time, they were quite vacant with something odd lingering inside them. Having spent so much time with him, you learned that their odd glint was sadness. But not the kind of melancholy one feels after hearing harsh words, no, it was the sadness of knowledge - a melancholic gaze of someone who saw and heard all there was to know about humanity and that knowledge left them disappointed, underwhelmed. "While they're dreaming, they are in your realm. You are the lord of them, do not forget that."

"What happens now that one of the Palaces is gone?"

For a moment, you looked away. A small shrug raised your shoulders and your gaze returned to Morpheus's face. "Truthfully, I can only speculate. This isn't the first time some Sacra's agent died but all of the Palaces are already deeply woven into the fabric of this cycle that it's virtually impossible to say with certainty whether the balance will remain. We can only hope that the other five Palaces will take over his duties and no more damage will be done. I'll be by the hazel tree."

Walking through the strangest dreams, Morpheus found himself inside a small, bare bedroom. The walls and floor were made out of stone. There was no glass in the windows but it wouldn't make much difference - the hot air stood in place. A wooden bed, a table, a chair and three woven baskets were the only pieces of furniture and although it wasn't much by any means, the room already felt cluttered. Looking around, Morpheus couldn't notice anything remarkable. The room looked so unimpressive, it could literally be in any country in the world. Although, why was someone dreaming of their own, empty bedroom?

Morpheus looked through one of the windows which was more of a hole in the wall, really. Out there, somewhere in the distance above hay roofs, he noticed a flag. There was no wind blowing, therefore he couldn't see all of it but he was fairly sure he could make out something like a spiral and part of an eye. He had found himself in the right place but where exactly he was, Morpheus couldn't tell. On the windowsill, if one could even call it that, was placed a gilded statuette of an animal (a panther, perhaps?) with three cubs. Morpheus reached his hand out towards the strange and enigmatic decoration.

"We meet, at last, Dream of the Endless," a voice called out to him.

Turning around, Morpheus's gaze fell on a man in a silvery robe. Contrary to the room they had found themselves in, the monk's clothing looked expensive, though it did not escape Dream's attention that the long belt tied around his waist was torn at the bottom, leaving brown threads in a dismembered pattern that represented nothing in particular anymore. Bright afternoon sunlight glided off his bald head. "Darius."

"To what do I owe this honour?"

Morpheus knew that Darius must be an exceptional man. Most of the time, Lord of Dreams was but an overlooked passenger in people's nighttime fantasies, never noticed until he wanted to be. Lucid dreaming was, indeed, a complex craft and not many could achieve it even with proper training. Even fewer people could treat it as second consciousness, wandering on Dreaming's soil with the awareness of wakefulness. "What happened to the Palaces of Justice?" Morpheus asked.

"Irony, Dream King," Darius answered. There was a polite smile on his face. His hands were clasped together in front of him as though he was mindful of his etiquette even in the world of dreams. How considerate. "The Palaces of Justice received justice."

Darius's lack of shame or regret, certain recklessness maybe, made Morpheus's skin crawl. Did that man truly not ponder the consequences of such an act? What madness inspired him to ever think that he could make such a decision? "Have you any idea what you've done?"

"Contrary to you, I do." Darius remained relaxed. He was either bluffing or he had an ace up his sleeve and was smart enough to not reveal all of his cards just yet. "Is this not why you sought me out? To learn about Lion and his final moments? With great satisfaction, I assure you, that it wasn't me who delivered his fate. If you knew what he had done, you'd be thrilled, too."

"I know what he had done," Dream answered in a cold done. "Tell me what you know."

"Why would I? You're only going to bring Wisdom to our doorstep. As much as the Brothers of the Final Truth wish for that to happen, the time is not right yet. Preparations are in order."

The next moment happened so fast that it was a mere blink of an unsuspecting eye. From his long sleeve, Darius revealed a dagger with a hilt sculpted into a dragon's head. As if he had no fear or had done something just as mad countless times before, Darius stabbed himself right in his heart - the quickest way to wake up.

Darius sat up in his bed panting. Without thinking about anything else, he threw away the thin cover he was sleeping under and run out of his bedroom barely dressed. He continued his maniacal rush through the cold, stone halls of the temple. Guards, wearing headdresses made from jaguar skulls, tried to stop him and ask what was wrong but Darius never let them - he simply run, his head whipping around as if he was looking for someone. Nearly tripping over his own feet, he left the temple.

"Brother Lorarii!" he yelled out to the familiar man. The monk looked Middle Eastern, with a thick beard covering nearly half of his face. "Brother Lorarii," Darius repeated between pants.

"Darius, dear Lords above and beyond, what is the matter?"

"It's Wisdom." He still couldn't catch his breath. "Dream of the Endless had trespassed my dreams. We need to warn Viper, send her off."

"If you say so, we shall do so at once. But you, dear brother, do not look good. It is still very early, even field workers haven't yet woken up. Go back to sleep, rest, and I'll fetch Viper."

"Yes, brother Lorarii. I will."

Suddenly feeling unimaginably tired, Darius dragged his feet back inside the temple. Instead of Dream and Wisdom, his thoughts were filled with memories of the pleasantly cool and comfortable bed. Yes, he could get some more sleep...

Brother Lorarii watched Darius disappear around the corner of the stone temple. Then, he simply turned around and walked away but instead of walking through a village with houses made of stone, he was suddenly walking through the palace in Dreaming. Brother Lorarii's tanned skin was exchanged for a pasty white complexion and dark, unkempt hair. Morpheus was marching through the marble halls of his manor. The gold figurine weighed in his hand.

Darius was still asleep, never having left his bed.

Morpheus was stalling. He came to tell you about his discovery but something about your calm yet focused demeanour made him want to watch. Throughout most of his life, he thought that the Pillars of Eternity were distant, cold, unwelcoming. None of the Endless was important enough to gain their interest. It was frustrating, truly - the almighty creatures of this universe couldn't care less. But now, having learned just how wrong he was, it was a comforting thought that there existed something bigger than him, that the pains and hopes of this world weren't entirely his burden to carry. Next to you, he happened to feel small, not as important as he always thought of himself. Somewhere in the depth of his pride, he found it endearing. The crows in the tree watched him closely with their burning green eyes and unintelligible markings. "Any news in the universe?"

"Standing here, what can you hear, my love?" you asked back.

"Leaves rustling."

"Imagine that each of those leaves is a separate world in this cycle. You hear them rustling as one, the soft hum of the current universe, but I listen to each of them separately. In fact, I'm listening to an entire forest rustling its leaves. There is no news in the universe, Morpheus, the universe is the news. It is constantly changing, moving, whispering. The universe is alive and so are its components. Have you any news about the Brothers of the Final Truth?"

Only then did you open your eyes to look at him. There was that glint of mischief or fascination in his irises that urged you to reveal to him the most deranged secrets of creation. Aside from your siblings, he was probably the only entity that wouldn't go completely mad the moment they even began to understand.

"I have spoken to one of them by the name of Darius. He was lucid in his dream, trying to escape me and my realm. Wherever Darius is, Viper is there, too. I brought something from his dream that might yet help us."

Although the statuette must have spent some time in Morpheus's hand, it was cold to the touch. It glistened but not as it should in the faint light of the palace - it appeared to have its own source of light. There were no inscriptions on the figurine, not even a year or a monogram of the sculptor.

"A gold jaguar," you said to yourself as if it wasn't already obvious. To be fair, considering the lack of proper details in the sculpted cubs, guessing 'bear' or 'hyena' should be equally expected. "Mother or father? Father jaguar..." your voice drifted away, travelling through times and places in a single thought. Yes, it wasn't the first time you've stumbled upon such an expression. "They're in Paititi, 'Motherland of the jaguar father'."

"That is where Viper is hiding."

"Precisely. But Brothers of the Final Truth are a cunning kind, they will know of our arrival. We must be swift, dear Morpheus."

The crows let out a deafening cacophony of caws when they took flight after you had stood up. One could only wonder what strange worlds they were going to see.

"It's hardly changed," you confessed as you looked at the stone houses, rice fields and llamas. "I remember showing Inkarri this valley. I haven't visited since then... Apparently, Paititi is stuck in time. I am yet to decide whether that is good or bad. For now, I suppose it simply is."

The village was quiet but not silent: a soft hum of a faraway waterfall created a comforting, almost sleepy, ambience. Torches made the moonless night a little brighter and easier to navigate. The air felt a low warmer as no breeze was blowing. Once in a while, a llama or a goat would call out. Streets were empty and there was no light inside the huts. For all you knew, Paititi was asleep.

The scales in your hand were strangely slimy and hard to grasp as if they once belonged to a fish rather than a reptile. With a flick of your wrist, you threw them in the air and in a truly mesmerizing fashion, they burst into giant, green flames. Not even ashes fell to the ground.

"The Brothers know you're here. Leave while you can," a quiet voice hissed.

You didn't even have to snap your fingers or flick your wrist to make Viper sink to her knees. It was child's play, really - to think her submission into existence. Despite genuine attempts, she couldn't stand up or even raise her arms. Viper's head was forced to look at you. She had thin black hair that clumped in greasy strands. Her skin looked painfully dry. Those slit pupils stared at you with nothing short of contempt.

"I am Wisdom," you began in an official tone, "the Pillar of Eternity, the Master of the Arcane Arts." Something about those words made the wind blow harder, the ground beneath your feet trembled nervously. "You owe me respect."

"Look at her," Viper demanded of Morpheus. His vacant eyes remained fixed on her. "Look at her!" She spat out specks of venom as she yelled. Hitting the sand beneath your feet, the substance sizzled, turning into sour-smelling smoke. "When you're finally gone, do you honestly think she'll mourn you? How could someone like her shed a tear over an insect like you? You are nothing beyond a lap dog to her, an accessory."

Unwilling to hear any more of her words, you revealed one of the blades belonging to the Spear of Ages that you had kept hidden in the triangular sleeves of your robes. The golden blade would surely glisten in the silver light of the moon but that night's sky was empty - stars blinked anxiously as they waited for their mother to begin another cycle, grow into the silent talar of whispered secrets once again.

With confidence befitting pure rage, your arm swung through the warm air. Viper closed her eyes and attempted to wince but the magic holding her in place didn't quite allow that. A loud sound of metal clashing and something hard being broken resounded through the otherwise silent night.

The blade belonging to the Spear of Ages was lodged into the stone pavement on which Viper was kneeling. Judging by the distance between the weapon and her body, it had missed her face by less than half of an inch. It was, quite clearly, a throw practised many times before. One could only wonder how many times the blade did not miss its mark...

But Viper did not have much time to enjoy the missed offence. Your hand tightly wrapped around her throat. Truthfully, you had little care for the strength of your grip - it took a little more than strangulation to kill a Palace. Holding her throat, you slightly lifted her entire body to bring Viper's face closer to yours.

"Given what role you must fulfil in this cycle, killing you is unwise," you spoke in a quiet, calm voice. "Another punishment must take place to pay for your treacherous fratricide. Viper, Palace of the Justice, you shall speak no more words. Instead, you will hiss and slither and live in the shadows as serpents do. So mote it be."

Pushing Viper away, you let go of her neck. She fell on the white stones beneath her feet and tried to scramble back up, stand up and face you but she couldn't - physically, she was incapable of doing so. Her legs as if suddenly stripped of bones or muscles became completely useless. Viper had no control over them. Propping her torso up on her arms, she tried to say something but your words were already changing reality: a golden thread swiftly piercing Viper's lips, wiring them shut until the end of this cycle. In muffled whimpers, she undoubtedly attempted to scream something at you - certainly something quite sultry.

"Between forgiveness and vengeance, one should choose to be just," you announced in an official tone. "And what is just may not always be right," you added a little quieter. It was good that those decisions belonged to Palaces of Justice and not yourself.

Dream's gaze lingered on the pathetic sight that was Viper. He knew not to believe her words but some part of him, strange particles in his bones that recognized your superiority to all of creation, pondered the Palace's judgement. What if his purpose truly was to pass the time? He felt your hand gently grabbing his before Paititi turned into Dreaming and the air around him was filled with shimmering, green powder.

Part of him expected you to let go of his hand and do whatever it is a creature of your sort does in their free time - in his experience, it was mostly sitting underneath a hazel tree or walking through the farthest places in Dreaming, taking in the specific genius loci of the Dream World. But your touch lingered. "Something is troubling you, my dear," you said in a mild tone.

Sometimes he wondered whether you could read minds but it was fairly obvious that you were just excellent at reading him. You pulled him in the direction of the balcony next to your bedroom and he let you.

"There will come a day when my existence comes to an end," he began. Your hand gripped his a little tighter but it wasn't uncomfortable - it was reassuring, a silent promise that he was being heard and his fears were treated with utmost seriousness. "Strange times when even Death will die. What shall become of you then?"

"Whatever must," you answered shortly. There was no point in sweet words and lies. Both of you were a little too old and smart for that. "I will take on the face of the next cycle's dominant species, answer to the name they will give me. And one day there will come another cycle in which another Dream of the Endless shall live. I think I ought to seek him out when the time comes. Perhaps his sky will be littered with gargantuan jellyfish."

A cawing resounded in the air. Flying straight towards the two of you was a crow - undoubtedly one of the residents of the hazel tree judging by its flaming emerald eyes and marking along its body. It landed on the ledge of the balcony, right between Morpheus and you. The bird's talons tapped against the stone. The crow cocked its head, the flaming eye stared into yours in a manner too intelligent and conscious to truly belong to an animal. A hoarse caw, a sound more akin to a screech than a bird's call, resounded in the crow's chest.

"Time would like us to visit him out on the Seas of Oblivion," you explained to Morpheus. Before he could think it odd that you clearly understand a crow's caw, he noticed the shade of green burning inside the bird's skull was nearly identical to the colour of your dress with embroidered ibises; he and Jessamy were in no way different than you and that crow. "Hermes, tell Time that we'll be honoured to meet with him."

The crow cawed again before taking flight and disappearing into the horizon.

I fear the day is growing shorter yet again, dear student, and the darkness in the absence of the sun is filled with terrors even I am yet to learn about. As much as it pains me to say so, I do not know when we'll see each other again. Telling you this story, I have come to realize that an entire century had gone by since the last time I saw my mother. With the break of dawn, I shall be off to Shangri-La. Should you grow weary of my absence, borrow one of my books. Who knows, maybe between their pages you'd find a story of your own?

#the sandman netflix #the sandman fanfiction #the sandman imagine #the sandman fanfic #the sandman #morpheus sandman #sandman fanfiction #sandman imagine #sandman x reader #sandman x you #dream of the endless fanfiction #dream of the endless imagine #dream of the endless x you #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless #morpheus #morpheus x you #morpheus x reader #morpheus imagine

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lgcjiho · 25 days ago

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( from @lgckai )

It’s Jiho’s birthday and all Kai wants is to make this day one of the brightest, happiest days of the year for his boyfriend. Thankfully, neither of them is away this time, giving Kai the perfect chance to plan something truly special.

Though he won’t be able to visit Jiho’s studio until later due to his own schedules and comeback preparations, Kai ensures his gift reaches him in time.

True to his thoughtful, heart-first nature—especially where Jiho is concerned—Kai arranges for a delivery man to bring a large package labeled, “To my Moon! With love, your Sun.”

Inside, a custom care package awaits, brimming with hand - picked items:

a plush neck pillow, a mini massager and an assortment of adorable, healthy snacks Kai had baked early that morning just for him. He’s also included the newest noise - canceling earbuds so Jiho can stay blissfully undisturbed at work ( they match Jiho’s official band color exactly, with his initials delicately engraved on each one.), along with a cozy hoodie in his favorite color, a framed picture of them from when they had their blanket fort night, and a small cake safely packed for the occasion.

The cake is a custom order, glimmering with yellow sparkles and topped with a sign that reads, “Happy Birthday, Versace Prince!”

Tucked inside is a handwritten card, with a small doodle of a sun and moon.

“I’m sorry I can’t be there with you all day, but I’ll come by right after schedules! I hope this little package brings you some joy and that you find use in everything—I picked each one just for you!

Happy Birthday, Jiho. You mean the world to me.

P.S. When I get there, no more working! I have another surprise planned for you!“

honestly, with the halloween party and other festivities, jiho had, once again, fully forgotten about his birthday. of course, he gets the messages from his parents and everything, and he had made plans with a few of the v&a members to go to a birthday cafe and everything. but it’s not something that’s at the forefront of his mind, and it’s easy to get lost in the work he was doing when he hears a package being delievered.

opening the door, jiho picks up the box and thanks the delivery man, a small smile appearing on his lips when he sees the label on it. already knowing who it was from, he disappears back into his studio to open the present away from prying eyes. considering that none of the members know about his relationship (yet) (aside from haru), he doesn’t want to draw any attention to himself when he’s opening it. he knows he won’t be able to hide his expression while going through the presents so he doesn’t want to have to do that at all.

as he goes through the presents, he can’t help but think that truly, kai knows him so well. they were friends before they became boyfriends, so it’s expected, but he feels his heart warm with every item that he pulls out of the care package.

he tugs the hoodie on immediately, relishing in the soft fabric and imagines that it’s kai’s arms around him instead before shaking that thought from his mind. he probably shouldn’t be thinking so romantically right now, considering he really should be doing more work before he heads out to the cafe but he can’t help it.

taking a selfie, to show that he’s wearing the hoodie, and then a picture of the cake among the presents, he sends out a quick text to his boyfriend. he knows that he can just show the other his appreciation later when he pops by, since they had plans to hang out later, but he wants to say something anyway.

thank you 💜 also, these pastries are so cute? how am i supposed to eat them ㅠㅠ

#submission #lgckai #( jihoday24 )#( I ALREADY TOLD U BUT THIS IS SO CUTE SDKLFJLKS )

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ay-chuu · 1 year ago

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Hii congratulations on reaching 300 followers! I would love to participate in your event. Can i request one for BSD?

MBTI: INTJ

Zodiac sign (gonna add my moon and rising sign too bc why not 👀): Capricorn Sun, Aquarius Moon & Gemini Rising

Hobbies: reading, dancing, playing video games, listening to music, puzzles, finding interesting shows/movies to watch, daydreaming

Phobias: the ones i can think of is thalassophobia and fear of spiders

Likes: thunderstorms, surprises, gifts, music, having fun, helping others, history, delicious food, learning new things, making others laugh, traveling, excitement

Dislikes: nosy people, being told what to do, naggers, hot weather, being forced to be somewhere or with someone i don't like, feeling stuck, conflict, routine, limitations, close-minded people, lack of freedom

Ideal male type: definitely someone with a sense of humor. someone intelligent, creative and kind. someone that accepts me for who i truly am and i'd accept them just the way they are too.

Gender/pronouns: female & she/her

Aaaand lastly, for the topic i pick the most special moment!

I hope i followed all the rules and again congratulations! ❤️

Thank you so much love, have a perfect day! 🌼😼

I match you with... (っ＾▿＾)💨

SIGMA!

The biggest reason why I matched you is that you both want to live freely and happily together in your own little safe space, away from people. This bond that holds you together is like glue and always increases your respect for each other.

Sigma likes that you are both lively and introverted. You remind him that no matter how disgusting the world is, there can always be rare angels who are like a treasure. The biggest proofs of this are that you accept each other as you are and that you always hold on to each other no matter what happens. (In other words, the biggest proof is... you <3)

Sigma may not be a very funny person, but that doesn't mean you don't laugh all the time when you're with him. You know those people who has weird acts and reactions that are hilarious, even if they're not funny in personal? Sigma is one of them. Other than that, the things you don't like are mostly common. He also hates loud people, not feeling like he belongs somewhere and feeling used. That's why you are each other's comfort person <3

Although I cannot say anything in the horoscope sense, INTJ and INFJ are compatible and passionate couples in the intellectual and intuitive sense. They generally complement each other in all kinds of harmony, both in my business life and in love.

Some moments I dreamed of for you two;

A waltz dance in the forest before sunrise, baking cookies that look like your faces together, a kiss shared with a view on top of a mountain, and smothering him with words of love under the blanket while Sigma's tears cover your shoulder <3

A special moment:

Seeing Sigma's excitement , was a rare moment for you. The way he walked around you like a dog wagging his tail and brought the chocolate chips to you the moment you asked made you giggle involuntarily.

It made you very happy to have him walk around you while you were preparing the cookie dough together. Sigma was someone who could neither get too excited nor be too happy under the living conditions he lived in.

He was used as a machine. He's like an encyclopedia. An object that is valuable only when needed.

But when he was with you, Sigma felt like he was the most important alive thing in the world, the most important being... no, the most important human to ever live. He wasn't an object to you who was ostracized, used, or treated differently than he wanted to be. Next to you he was just Sigma and your lover. Maybe that's why even a simple act like making cookies was so peaceful, happy and exciting for him. He would be one with his favorite person and his favorite food. A peaceful night spent on the couch, with cookies and maybe... milk. What else could make him happier in this cruel world? (Maybe marrying and live a future with you.....)

"Okay, my love. The cookies should bake for 45 minutes. Meanwhile, I'll clean up the kitchen. Wait for me in the living room, okay?" You said as you wiped your hands on your apron and prepared the oven.

Sigma shook his head as no, he came behind you, hugged you and kissed your neck. Oh, how he loved it when you loved him even with your smallest actions. "I'll help you, dear."

The 45 minutes had passed quickly as the two of you cleaned up the kitchen and warmed milk for the cookies. Sigma was listening to your conversation as you went to the couch together, cuddled up and enjoyed your cookies. Just you, him and the cookies. And your sweet voice.

Humanity is a very new concept for Sigma. Being able to comprehend the existence of mind and soul, and being able to feel it despite being born from a book, are not only new for Sigma, they are concepts that he cannot understand. But the only thing he understands and is sure so far is that as long as your love is with him, he will always cease to be an object. He will always be a human being <3

#by.aychu #matching/shipping event!#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd sigma #sigma x reader #bsd sigma x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs

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bunnyloafing · 1 year ago

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૮ • ﻌ - ა 1

it wasn’t really a matter of who fell out first, it was the matter of who could tolerate longer. the answer in the end was that neither of us could tolerate each other for much longer than was required. they finished the project and i guess that’s where they both thought they’d never see each other again, thankfully. obviously life has its ways of proving us wrong time and time again and when i least expected it (and somehow most needed it), you appeared again. it was kinda like how when you don’t need something, you see it so often everywhere, but when you need it, you can’t quite seem to remember where you last left it. where did they last leave it at? probably throwing empty but sharp and cruel insults to each other. one thinks too hard and it too rigid to want to try to show that he knows basic human emotions. the other thinks with his heart instead of his head, it could be a good thing, but i just don’t see how it could help him in the long run. they both are wrong, if we’re being honest. you can live through life without acknowledging it’s beauty and wonders and you can’t life through life bare feet and without preparation for its cruel and harsh environments. balance, is what we need. but balance means tolerance, balance means peace, balance means being okay with not being okay. and god, that’s hard. so hard, in fact, that we needed to part ways in order to survive. that’s how it felt like anyway. we couldn’t stand each other, we really couldn’t. heartless and so cold that even when we were together as friends, i felt so distant. it pushes people away, you know. being like that. being me though, being so open and vulnerable around those who don’t always ask me to be, is also a form of isolation. throwing myself onto others is scary for them. but i would rather speak my fears of feeling alone to everyone than to actually be alone. now, they live in the same house, their home. it hurts to call it that because in a way, kaveh knows it’s not actually his home. it could have been, if not for the messy and deadly end between them back then. he regrets that sometimes but wouldn’t do anything differently because of his fear. his fear of what they could have been now if he didn’t explode then. what would they be now? where would they be? how funny to think his entire life could have been so different if he had just tolerated a while longer. it kills him inside at night, a wall away, but a galaxy of distance. tells himself he’ll talk to him in the morning, but never really does. it’s not worth it anyway. he assumes too much but that may be the only thing keeping him alive right now. if not for the small part of his mind that tells him to be careful, he wouldn’t be here now. he is so emotional. be careful Kaveh, it can hurt to be deceived, as you may know by now. he’s lonely but at least he’s not alone yet. his friends make life a little better, but the bitter taste in his mouth remains even after they all part ways when meeting at the tavern. it could be the alcohol, he doubts that, but he’s sure it’s jealousy coursing through his blood. why do they get to live so happily? maybe if he took tighnari’s place, even with all the stress of being so important in the community and taking care of collei and balancing everything, he would be happier. anything would be better than this. ‘this’ doesn’t truly refer to anything in specific, it’s more of like a loop of his life. wake up tired, go to work, come back, work, argue with alhaitham, stay up until the sun shows up, sleep, wake up tired and start again (to be fair, he does sneak in a drink or two whenever given the opportunity). it’s fine for now. tolerance is what kills them both, but the balance is what brings them together. kaveh wouldn’t change anything of what he did because if he would have done things differently, he’s scared of the results in doing so. would a ‘sorry’ from both of them kill them? maybe that was all he needed. but for now, he can repeat doing whatever he does forever. he will get out of this one and soon, out of haithams mind (or so he thinks).

i didn’t check this for spelling mistakes sorry

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desireandduty · 11 months ago

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🎲

@sithdestined rolled #26 from this meme - "A kiss while one or both parties are crying" | ACCEPTING!

After years of perfecting the Amidala persona, Padmé was an expert at holding back tears. Most people did not appreciate a female leader who cried in public, and so she had learned to express her emotions in other, less visible ways. Or, at the very least, in less public ways. It wasn't that she never cried. She just never let herself cry in front of other people.

But now, standing in the cockpit of her Starcruiser and looking into her new husband's eyes, she found that her own were welling up with tears. They had just docked at her usual landing pad on Coruscant and had only minutes left to be themselves before their real lives and duties called for their full attention and pulled them apart. Anakin was reporting immediately to the Jedi Temple to prepare for his first tour of duty, and she had a mountain of data pads to dig into upon returning to her own office.

When would they see each other again? Neither of them was exactly certain. That was precisely why she hadn't wanted to think about this moment, and because she had refused to think about it, she also wasn't prepared for how to handle the moment when it arrived.

Padmé had thought, when she first declared her love for him only a couple of weeks ago on Geonosis, that she spoke the truth in claiming to love him truly and deeply. But now, after these past few, glorious days together on Naboo, she realized that statement had been more foreshadowing than truth-telling. There was a certain element of learning about another person that happened when you risked your lives together for someone you both cared about - as had happened when they went to save Obi-Wan.

This trip to Naboo had been utterly different: peaceful, placid, and also still thrilling in the way a secret wedding had to be. And after all of the time spent getting to know each other - emotionally, physically, spiritually - she loved him more deeply and more truly than ever before. And saying goodbye to him was made all the more difficult.

All these thoughts flashed through her mind in an instant as Padmé stepped closer to him. "I don't know how to say goodbye to you," she murmured, blinking away her tears. That was quite an admission from a women whose career was built on her ability to wield words as a weapon of statesmanship. After a few moments, she finally rose up on tiptoe and wound her arms around his neck to pull him closer. If she couldn't tell him goodbye, she could at least show him how she felt. As their lips met in a tender kiss, Padmé felt the tears overflow her eyes and slide silently down her cheeks.

#{i meme it}#{sithdestined}#{ft: anakin skywalker}

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mollynicolemurphy · 2 years ago

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Oh captain, my captain…

My best friend claims to be a mermaid, it’s something she so instinctively knows about herself. And when she tells stories to help me process things, she often uses analogies from the sea.

The story she so beautifully described today was the story of a captain. A captain I spent the last six months with after he jumped from his ship a year prior. He jumped from the ship he’d been sailing for nearly two decades when he saw that his first mate had been so wildly focused on a different course. I started to dive into the story and took over the narrative to write this piece, as I was the one who lived through the experience…

My captain had been lost at sea for over a year, survived many storms, encountered sirens and hadn’t yet found one that he trusted enough to explore the deeper parts of the water with, until he met me. I was the siren and the muse he’d hoped would help him find his way back to shore, back to his new home. It was his last desperate attempt to reclaim the love he’d been missing from his life for so long. We spent six beautiful months together at sea learning how to swim. We were stuck on a life raft at times, occasionally finding safe harbors amongst exquisite barrier reefs where we had so many beautiful intimate moments together filled with so much love and adoration. However, as connected as we were, I think we both instinctively knew we could not find our way back to shore together. It was a journey we each needed to take alone, but we did make one final attempt to swim side by side with each other's souls to get there. What we found was that neither of us were truly swimming in our power, oftentimes conforming ourselves to the other because of our deep love and connection. My captain saw things about the journey I needed to take before I let myself see them. I ignored the things I knew he needed, because the kind of love he gave me felt so good and so safe. When I sent him off on his last voyage, I knew he would not return to me. I felt a disconnection and awareness from him that was like nothing I’d experienced before, but I understood. My soul knew our time together was complete.

And in the last few weeks, it’s been an adjustment to be swimming alone again. Yet I swam back to familiar safe harbors for reassurance that it was indeed my time to go to the place I’ve feared for so long. In preparation, I listened to the words of thought leaders and my own guides to help me understand all of the things I would find. Then yesterday, I jumped from the rock and started out on my journey. I swam harder than I have in my entire life, directly toward the place I feared so much. There were obstacles along the way, so many things trying to make me turn back… yet I kept swimming. And when I arrived at what I believed was the deepest and scariest cavern in the sea, I was ready. Along with my trusted guides encouraging me, my captain had given me the love and strength and the safe harbor I needed to take this journey. And I knew with my entire being, there was absolutely no turning back.

I went inside the deepest cavern I’ve been avoiding for the past forty years. It was the cavern that held all the treasures that my heart and soul have kept buried away from me. They were all there, just waiting for me when I was ready to see them. I couldn’t believe how beautiful the treasures were. Some illuminated the pain I’d suppressed that caused so much suffering and others sparkled with so much happiness and joy. I found my little girls that I’d abandoned for so long, waiting for me and ready to be set free from this cavern. They showed me the way out and pointed towards a bright light at the end of a tunnel. They explained that the tunnel had so many more treasures and it was the only way I could find my way back to shore. Gazing around the cavern, I was awestruck by the treasures I had found and smiled as I realized this place wasn’t so scary after all. My little girls explained there were things about them I must first honor and cherish. I must be disciplined and committed to the process and not look anywhere but within myself as I swim. They each are excited to show me what they have learned and have been waiting for me to come back so they could share all their stories with me. They explained they were ready for me to take the lead as long as I checked in with them and allowed them to join me on the journey. They have so much wisdom and apologized for acting out in my subconscious for years in an attempt to get their needs met and ultimately get my attention. They knew they were responsible for causing me so much pain, but didn’t know any other way. They asked for forgiveness and when I was so open to forgive them, they were delighted. They saw the curiosity in my eyes knowing my eyes were the windows to my soul. They were thrilled that I had come back to them and wanted to hear more about this captain that gave me the strength to come and set them free. I explained I would share our love story with them from time to time, but it was important that they share all their wisdom and stories with me first. I also explained he may not be waiting on the shore when I make it through the tunnel and out of the cavern. I reassured them it was so incredibly important to my development to let him go knowing his soul will be a part of me forever. I recounted that it was the experience with my beloved captain that created a safe harbor for me and inspired me to find them in this cavern of buried treasures. It was the year he had spent navigating through the dark waters which gave him the internal compass that showed him he needed to set out on his own path and let me swim alone; because ultimately my life depended on finding this cavern under the sea.

And now the journey through the tunnel begins… I know when I make it out of this cavern and to the shore, I’ll be able to remove my fins and walk away with a new found sense of freedom. And when I look back at the sea, I’ll know that freedom came from courage; a courage developed from love. It is going to take courage to live with an open heart, trust and love myself and surrender to my vulnerable soul knowing I am safe and have all the power within. And if my captain choses to find his way to me when he makes it to shore, we will set off on yet another beautiful adventure together with endless possibilities, because we have both finally become whole. ♾

Oh captain, my captain… until we meet again.

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catpersonwithatemper · 2 years ago

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These are some really good points, but I think I'd have to disagree (speaking about the show here bc I haven't read the comics)

I always thought his redemption arc and his relationship with Azula was really well done, and if anything his lingering resentment towards Azula at the end made it more realistic.

Obviously to truly heal, break the cycle and grow to see the full impact of Ozai's abuse, he would need to realise that Azula was also a victim and both of their suffering is not at the fault of the other, but with their father, and Zuko needed to forgive her and find peace within himself to overcome his inferiority complex.

But he's only starting out!! I think we, as the audience, forget sometimes that the end of the show is only the start of his healing process. His redemption arc has been setting up and rolling since the beginning, but he only JUST realised he was being abused and DIDN'T deserve to have his face burnt off in the THIRD SEASON!!! And then, he had the strength to leave and comit treason, and from then on his father and Azula have been the enemy (which they already were to him just not on such a big scale)

And not to bash on Azula, she is my girl, but it's not like she didn't give him reason to resent her. She wasn't just standing there for fourteen years while Ozai pointed at her and said she was perfect. She actively picked on and bullied Zuko as children, putting herself above him in everything as they got older and encouraging his inferiority complex. Obviously we know this is a result of Ozai's abuse and she only behaves this way to please him and protect herself, but to Zuko (especially as a kid) this is just more abuse, more confirmation that he really is worthless and an outcast in his family. It makes sense then that later, when he's turned against the fire nation, that it'll take him time to see through not only Ozai's mistreatment, but Azula's as well. He only just realised he was being abused at all, and then got swept up in preparing for the final battle, so he hasn't really had time to see past the mask of power and perfection Azula has maintained their entire lives, especially at the point of Boiling Rock. Its so soon after he left and she is quite literally there to imprison his friends (or worse) and bring him back to his abusive home, and she's completely unapologetic. Just like with everything she does.

That's why I think the final Agni Kai works so well, because yes, they both seek out that rivalry once again, because it's the only way they know how to interact with each other, and now, being on separate sides of a war, Zuko knows Azula is dangerous, he knows she will destroy him if given the chance. So he doesn't give her the chance until he has to protect Katara, and it's framed by silence. It's presented as a sad and tragic thing that these siblings are fighting each other, even if neither realises it yet.

You can argue that he should have tried to reach her or convince her to switch sides or realise she was suffering sooner etc etc and that's a fair point, but I always liked the fact that he wasn't suddenly Mr Perfect at the end and his healing wasn't complete, because no one's journey is ever complete! Not that quickly, not tidied up so neatly for the last episode. He couldn't have helped Azula when he only just realised he needed help himself, and personally the pacing of his redemption arc is the best part of it for me. Even when it's left "unfinished"

Again, I haven't read the comics but from what I've heard you're definetly right and his whole relationship with Azula is soooo fucked up. I would've liked to see him realising she's in pain rather than just 'crazy and dangerous' once he's had time to work on himself and think about his childhood and how it effected both him and Azula, and then they can work on it together.

But them healing together and reconciling is definitely not feasible in the show, and I'm inclined to think the same about Zuko's forgiveness. Due to the pacing of his character development, its just too soon for him to have that breakthrough, and the other characters are a bit preoccupied being hunted by Azula to call out Zuko for resenting her (note even Iroh, Zukos guide to redemption and an extremely forgiving person saying "shes crazy and she needs to go down"), but that is something I would like to see after the show, either in the comics or the movie, when she's not a threat to them anymore and they can actually sit down and think about it.

Why Zuko's arc falls flat for me

One of the biggest things that makes up Zuko's character is his inferiority complex when it comes to his sister being better than him at firebending. As we know, he's like this because for years, Ozai made Zuko feel inferior to Azula by constantly putting him down and comparing his skills to Azula's. Zuko came to resent Azula because of this, not realizing that she wasn't the one at fault.

When Zuko defects once he realizes that Ozai was an abusive d-bag who wasn't worth the time of day, I was hoping that meant he would finally let go of his resentment that he had towards Azula. Since the only reason why it was even there was because of Ozai's abuse. And since Zuko finally realized that Ozai abused him, surely it would mean that he would finally stop blaming Azula for how his life turned out, and would let go of his resentment.

Only...he never does. Zuko still seeks out the rivalry with Azula. At the Boiling rock when Suki says "this is a rematch that I've been waiting for" Zuko responds with "yeah, me too" in regards to Azula. In the finale, he wants to "put her in her place" because she was better than him and was unapologetic about it and had the audacity to flaunt that fact in his face. If the writers really wanted to convince me that Zuko had grown? One of the lessons that he should have learned was that he doesn't HAVE to be perfect at everything. That he was just fine where he was at. That everyone learns at their own pace, and that's ok. It doesn't mean that there's something wrong with you. He should have learned that he didn't have to prove that he was better than Azula. For all the praise he gets for "breaking the cycle of abuse" in his family, he really didn't break it as much as people think he did. Because part of breaking that cycle? Would be letting go of his resentment towards Azula, and learning those lessons that I mentioned. The narrative validating Zuko's feelings towards her instead of calling them into question and calling Zuko out on this was just a disservice to his character arc. And it only gets worse in the comics.

#atla #zuko #zuko meta #azula

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imagineimpact · 3 years ago

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Could i request Diluc angst oneshot where reader and him get into a big disagreement or argument where Diluc makes them cry and feel really bad about themself so they go and end up hanging out with Kaeya a bit much cause he offered to cheer reader up and Diluc won't apologize. until he see's his s/o hanging out with Kaeya

I actually wrote 2 different versions of the ending for this, but this is the one I decided to go with! If you want the more angsty version do let me know.

Anyway,

Harsh Words

Diluc x Reader

Screaming. Yelling that could be heard throughout the Dawn Winery residence late into the night, heard only by the maids, the night security, and perhaps a late worker or two.

And of course, by the two individuals who held the voices.

It was rather unusual for the two of you to be at odds; and, on the occasion in which you were, it wasn’t nearly to this degree.

But the two of you were outright screaming at each other. It wasn’t even about one thing anymore - it was everything. Whatever you had been arguing about had reached the point of irrelevance; It never should have reached this point and you knew that, but you were under fire and you couldn’t stop.

All you knew was that this was Diluc’s fault, and that you couldn’t take this kind of argument.

“If you just thought about your actions for once-”

You cut him off, “Oh don’t try me with that, you’re the one treating me like I’m an idiot and trying to control my-”

“If you had just listened for once and been less of a selfish bitch then I wouldn’t have to!”

His words had cut far deeper than either of you had expected, and you physically recoiled at the words, a sudden wave washing over you which forced tears from your eyes. The truth in his words was irrelevant - It felt true, even if it wasn’t.

You turn away from him. In spite of your state, he makes no move toward you. None, not even to give you the slightest feel of any comfort. You knew - he wanted the words to cut through you.

You go to the door and slip on your shoes, leaving the room as fast as you humanly could.

You can’t take this anymore.

But you don’t make it past the front door. As if by telepathy, Diluc has two of his night security waiting by the door in a stance showing you that they’re ready to make sure you don’t leave. They block your path, silent in their menace. When you turn around, only then do you notice Adelinde and Hille quietly staring at you. Diluc’s footsteps down the stairs are a slow horror, an even pace which served to only emphasize that feeling of dread; Very easily, this felt like the perfect time to be murdered.

The drawl of footsteps approach, yet cease a few meters away - he’s far too distant to do anything himself. His eyes lock on yours, quietly assessing you.

“Diluc, let me leave.” You hiss through streaming tears. You nearly choke on the tension in the air.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. His eyes don’t show any expression, show any remorse or guilt, or even happiness. Truly, there is nothing in his eyes.

“Let me make myself clear: You are not leaving this premises in the middle of the night. Do you understand me?”

“Not even slightly.”

Silence. His eyes flicker, the way they do when he sees an abyss mage, or when Kaeya makes a comment that goes a little too far - pure anger.

“Adelinde, fix up the guest room.”

“No need. I’ll be leaving now.” You scoff.

Diluc tilts his head, peering over you and towards his security as if to say ‘don’t you fucking dare let them through’.

Then another look, and you feel yourself being pushed into the house again, the slam of the doors behind you.

A wave of anger washes over you, and you can’t help the excess of tears that fall, harder now than they had been before.

Diluc holds his ground, staring at you silently. You shake your head and look away, not sure what to do with yourself. Their staring puts you in pure disarray.

“Adelinde.”

“Yes, sorry.” She mutters, bowing and taking her leave in the direction of the guest bedroom in order to prepare it for you.

When she’s gone, you shake your head. “I’m not going to be sleeping.”

“Then stay in your room. I don’t care.” He huffs, turning away and wandering back up the stairs, his footsteps seeming less menacing now.

The argument was done.

Your eyes catch a light outside the window, seeming to exist a far distance away. Maybe it was the fire of a hilichurl camp.

What time was it? Surely the sun would be up soon anyway.

Fine. You would leave then, no matter what.

When you got to your room, you actually did manage to sleep. Not nearly enough; An hour was nothing in the long run, but it was still just slightly enough to not feel entirely exhausted.

Still, the sun was up when you arose, and you lay in the bed, uncertain as to what would happen when you left the room.

If Diluc wasn’t going to apologise, you wanted nothing to do with him.

So, after a little while of resting, it was a surprise to hear a knock at the door. You were summoned to breakfast. Nearly the entire time, you and Diluc sat across from each other - an oddity indeed considering he would always insist that he wanted you seated beside him - this time, however, you were as far from his as possible within the confines of the seated table. The usually empty seat felt hard beneath you, not softened by an everyday presence. Your usual seat to his right - where your plate had been placed before you had taken it to where you were now - was empty.

Neither of you could look into each other’s eyes. The silence, broken only by the light clinks of cutlery, felt burdenous.

You expected him to say something, anything really. You could barely eat the food on your breakfast plate, and without any words, you didn’t feel all too comfortable anyway. You let out a quiet sigh and stood up, tucking in your chair and lifting your plate to take it back to the kitchen.

“Where are you going?” Diluc’s voice was quiet but the harshness in it was unmistakable.

“I’m not hungry.” You looked down at the plate in your hands. “I’m going to Mondstadt.”

Diluc stood up suddenly, pushing back his chair and stepping close to you. The sudden movement caused you to shutter slightly, and he pulled back a bit. Still, he tore the plate from your hands and placed it on the table. “When you return, be ready to have a serious conversation.”

Oh.

You opened your mouth to speak, but then huffed and turned away. “Right. I’ll look forward to getting yelled at again.”

Diluc scoffed, “Stop acting like a petulant child.”

“I’m not doing this right now, Diluc.” Your feet are moving before you can even think about it. This time, as you approached the door, no one was there to stop you. You left with no present company to watch over you, and you knew that today was going to be a long, long day.

——

Mondstadt thrives with life, as per usual. Because of how bright and pleasant the place is, any spec of gloom is extremely obvious on a day like this.

You took to the adventurers guild to take some commissions. Maybe killing some hilichurls or slimes would take your mind off of it all, or maybe just delivering some needed materials to someone.

The entire time you had been speaking to Katheryn, you felt eyes watching you, but you didn’t want to make it obvious you knew. Alas, it was only moments later that you startled at the feeling of a hand on your shoulder.

“No need to be so surprised.” The familiar voice chuckles beside you.

“Good morning, Kaeya.” You let out a soft sigh, the exhaustion of the day before wearing into you. You thanked Katheryn and turned your attention to Kaeya. His eyebrows twitched and his expression shifted as he studied you.

“What happened?” He asks rather blatantly, eyes clouding over. “Was it Diluc?”

You took a deep breath. “Wanna join me for commissions?”

Kaeya scans your eyes. “As long as you tell me what’s wrong.”

“Come on.” You nod, wandering out of Mondstadt with him.

The slowly falling night brought you back to Mondstadt. You agreed to go to the tavern with Kaeya, a subtle kind of thank you for spending time with you today. It wasn’t like you were doing anything else anyway.

The tavern was already busy before you got there, people crowding around for a nights drink. You subconsciously step towards Kaeya as if shading yourself away from the crowded atmosphere and he is wary of your proximity. He draws you to his side, a friendly notion, and steps inside before you.

Charles waves at you both from behind the counter. Kaeya quickly orders a round of drinks and takes you to a table away from the bar.

“Hey, look who’s been dragged in.” Rosaria wanders over, quietly making soft chatter with you. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to spend some time together.

Kaeya eventually wanders away, grabbing your drinks and bringing them back over.

Time seemed to dwindle away, the mindless chatter with your friends giving you more than ample distraction from anything else that might have been happening.

“Master Diluc! Didn’t expect to see you here today.” Charles’ voice rings out.

Of course, that wasn’t going to last long.

You lift your head slightly, tensing up. Diluc is scanning the room, twisting his wrist lightly as he speaks quietly to Charles; The words miss you. You freeze as your eyes lock. For just a moment you’re caught in that discerning gaze before he nods at you and turns back to talk to Charles. Kaeya draws your attention back away, and you slip back into your conversation, not wanting to deal with anything else.

“I’ll get another round.” Rosaria gets up and makes her way through the tavern, leaning over the bar and making another order for the table.

“How many are we on?” You ask, already flushed from the… how many glasses had you even had?

“Five.” Kaeya laughs, leaning on your shoulder. “But now that the killjoy’s here, he’ll stop us from having our well-earned fun.”

“I heard that.” Diluc scoffed, passing by you.

“Good.” Kaeya wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to him, more out of a delicate affection than anything else. Diluc’s eyes narrow at his brother, who just laughs in response.

“Get your hands off of-“

“Oh don’t worry, brother. I would never keep them somewhere they don’t want to be.” Kaeya mocks. “You, on the other hand, can’t say the same.” Even with his words, he loosens his hold on you and leans back a bit.

Rosaria returns with your round, greeting Diluc casually as she slips back into her seat. Your pissed off boyfriend wanders away back to his work.

It clicks in your hazy mind that the only reason he’s here is likely because you are. You laugh at the thought, then clink your tankard to the group and drink.

—

As the evening wears down, many people in the bar until it’s pretty much only your group and a few others left there. Diluc lets out a soft sigh as he watches you, trying to soften that jealous pounding of his heart. He takes a sip of his own drink - apple cider, of course. He could never slam back drinks the way that your group currently were. Where had the hours gone?

Oh, no. How many drinks had you had? Whatever was next, he swore to himself that he would make sure that it was watered down. At this rate, you were pretty much welcoming alcohol poisoning with open arms.

Kaeya, wobbly as ever, decides to be the one to approach the bar this time (mostly because Rosaria was leaning against the table, head folded into her arms as she groaned). Diluc shook his head. “No, no. The three of you will drink this whole tavern dry if I don’t stop you.”

“Oh, I’m not here to get any more.” He leans on the countertop. “I just want to know what the hell you did.” Kaeya motions over to you. You’re just giggling at Rosaria’s complaining, leaning over and patting her on the head.

“I’m not talking to you about this.” Diluc leans back, crossing his arms stubbornly.

“Suit yourself.” He straights up. “I should probably get her out of here before you say something stupid.”

“I’m not going to be saying anything stupid.” Diluc shakes his head, looking over the list of all the drinks you’ve had this evening. “You’re all wasted.”

“And yet, you haven’t said last call.”

Seemingly to spite him, DIluc immediately does. He signals over to Charles to round up the remaining people. He knew to leave you last.

Kaeya’s laugh is enough to haunt him. “You make this right, Diluc.” He runs his finger over the counter. “Otherwise I will.”

“Get out of my sight.”

The cavalry captain laughs again, then wanders over to your table. He practically drags Rosaria back up, but she pushes away from him and made her own way to the counter - always a good spirit, she paid for her own portion of drinks and left. Being a nun, she probably didn’t need to use the money elsewhere.

Kaeya was two steps away from just carrying you out the door, but through his drunk mind he finds the clarity to understand just how absolutely inappropriate that would be to do, especially in front of Diluc. Alas, you lean on his shoulder as he assists your steps.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Diluc’s voice calls out, as if to stop you both.

“Usual billing.” Kaeya calls back.

“No, no.” You both look back at him. He shifts on his feet, eyes locking with yours. “I’ll be damned if you go home with him.”

“Then damned you are.” You roll your eyes, turning away.

He calls your name softly. “Step away from him. Come here.”

You take a deep breath. “I am so glad I don’t have to remember any of this.”

Diluc places a glass of water in front of you. “Drink this. You wreak of alcohol.”

“And you wreak of your hatred.” You sit down in front of him, knowing that it wasn’t about to get better.

Diluc’s eyes flicker up to Kaeya. “Get out.”

“Not happening.”

“Kaeya, this doesn’t concern you.”

“Their safety is more than enough concern.”

“It’s alright, Kaeya, just wait outside.” You pipe in, not wanting even more stress.

Kaeya agrees, quietly slipping out the door. Charles is told to escort him away, an act which may have varying success.

Either way, you sat in front of Diluc, not sure what exactly to say to him.

“I’m tired, Diluc. I’m tired of this. I can’t put up with-“

“I’m sorry.” He blurts out, interrupting you. “Please, hear me out.”

“I’m not going to remember-“

“Then I’ll tell you again when you will.” He leans over the counter, not wanting to be apart from you. He calls your name again, as if to hold your attention, “Can we talk about this?”

“I think we talked about this already.” You groan. “Yesterday, plenty of yelling. The Maids and guards can confirm.”

Diluc takes a long breath out. You lift the glass of water and take an even longer sip.

Maybe the barrier of the counter between you made you feel better. But, as tears sprung to your eyes, you felt so, so much worse.

“Do you hate me?” You ask, your voice squeaking. “Do you want to break up with me.”

“No, Y/N.” He reaches for your hands, but you had pushed your stool too far away from him beforehand that he couldn’t. He circles around the bar and gently grabs both of your hands, soft enough in his hold for you to be able to pull away. “Don’t ever say that. I love you.”

“Then, why?” You sob, turning your face away from him, hands still in his. “Why did you yell at me? Why wouldn’t you talk to me this morning?”

“I…“ Diluc stops himself, taking a deep breath. “I was angry. We were both angry.” He shifts, pulling out a stool and sitting in front of you. “I wasn’t acting rationally.”

“When you said you wanted to talk this morning, what were you going to say?”

Diluc hesitates, gripping your hands just a little bit harder. “I was going to ask… I was going to ask if you were happy.” He admitted, quietly. “But I can’t do that. I can’t put you through that.”

You tug him toward you, pulling his hands close to your face. “Why would you say that? I love you.” You sob into his soft skin.

He takes his hands away from your gently, slipping them around your waist and pulling you close to him, into his lap. He tightens his grip. “I’m sorry.” He repeats. “I’m so sorry. I never want you to cry.” He feels his heartbeat heavily in his chest, a distraught washing over him. “Don’t ever destroy yourself like this again.” He runs a hand over your back.

You don’t say anything. You’re way too drunk for many more coherent thoughts to pass your lips. You lift your head and plant a soft kiss on his cheek, and he softly kisses your forehead, pulling you back to his chest so that you don’t try to kiss him anymore - He wasn’t about to let that happen, you were far too drunk.

Diluc was ashamed of his thoughts. His guilt, rising only when he saw you in the present company of his brother, showing affection and finding comfort anywhere except for him. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, nor to you, but as you cried into his shoulder, he couldn’t help the wave of disappointment in himself that washed over. Why could he never be there for the people who needed him most?

“Come on, finish your water, let’s get you home.” He insists, though he holds you tightly still until you stir.

You take the water, sipping it with a slight indignance. He would have to apologize to you again in the morning, but he would do anything to get you to trust him again.

(Part 2 here)

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greenleaf4stuff · 2 years ago

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Morpheus and his relationships with Lucienne and Hob - contrasts and similarities (meta rambling)

Okay, so @avelera and the tags on my previous meta rambling (https://greenleaf444stuff2.tumblr.com/post/694811407444787200/dreams-return-to-the-dreaming-vs-the-white-horse#notes) inspired me to ramble some more, this time with a focus on Hob and Lucienne, and their relationship with Morpheus. Because, in a way, both have very different approaches and are in different positions, and yet, they are also very similar in other ways. And both their approaches *work*.

On the one hand, there is Lucienne - she has been with Dream for a very, very long time, first as his raven, then as his librarian, both very influential and important positions/stations in the Dreaming, and she knows Dream very well as a result. On the other hand, Hob Gadling has ‘only’ known Dream for 700 years, and only met with him a couple of times - he has no previous relation to Dream, doesn’t work for him, holds no important position in the Dreaming, in fact we never see him interact with the Dreaming in season 1. He doesn’t even know Dream’s name, much less what he is. And yet, he too ‘knows’ Dream, but while Lucienne has years upon years of personal interaction to draw from, Hob is very instinctive and picks up clues (or so it seems) very quickly.

Lucienne is very delicate when trying to confront Dream with information and circumstances he may not wish to hear, but gently persists - maybe so he won’t get all huffy and puffy, but more likely because she may not particularly wish for him to be distressed (that is just my interpretation, though) but still wants him to see reason. Hob, on the other hand, not only tells Dream to his face what he thinks, but when Morpheus reacts negatively, he doubles down on insisting Morpheus seeks friendship, and then runs after him and confronts him *again* (or tries to, anyway).

Neither Hob nor Lucienne are never threatened by Dream; he never threatens to withdraw Lucienne’s position as librarian or to try and reverse Hob’s immortality. He has qualms threatening his own creations (Dreams and Nightmares alike) for disobedience (at least, most of the season), has no problem giving out punishment to humans he feels deserve it, but people like Lucienne and Hob (and Matthew) are never threatened, which imo shows that they hold a certain position in his life.

(He also never threatens Death, but let’s be real, apart from the fact that they genuinely like and care about each other, even Morpheus knows that would be a very bad idea.)

In turn, neither Lucienne nor Hob are ever truly frightened of him; Lucienne might be resigned, frustrated, concerned, but there is no fear, even when speaking out against Morpheus banishing Gault to the darkness. Same with Hob, he knows Morpheus is somehow ‘responsible’ for his immortality (and is immortal himself) and has seen him use his powers on Lady Constantine, yet when he confronts Dream, the only fear there might be is the fear of Dream walking away/of him being wrong about his observations, but not of Dream himself.

When Lucienne and Morpheus have a confrontation, it is her who takes a step back and retreats (though that doesn’t mean she backs down, but she gives Dream time to calm down and be reasonable); with Hob, it is Dream who walks away from Hob’s assessment. In the end, Morpheus is the one to come back to both of them, and in both cases, he is sorry and changes through both of their influence (accepting help and shared responsibility from Lucienne and accepting friendship from Hob).

And finally, as a similarity, they both waited for Dream during his imprisonment, without knowing what had happened to him, with no guarantee he would return - Lucienne had Prodigal in the back of her mind, Hob the previous fight about whether or not he and Dream were friends. They could have had every reason to feel abandoned, left behind, and yet they presevered and tried to prepare for Morpheus’ return (Lucienne tried to keep the Dreaming running, Hob bought/built the New Inn for him and Dream to meet in and pointed him towards it) - and they both were right to hold onto hope, and in both cases, it was important for Morpheus that they waited for him.

tl;dr: Lucienne and Hob have very different standings and relationships with Morpheus, and deal with his more negative character traits in different ways, yet both know him quite well, know how to read him, and both are successful in their approaches - and in both cases, their approaches influence Morpheus to (try to) be better. While Lucienne is a steady constant, Hob is a new impulse in Dream’s life. Dream needed both to try and change for the better.

I could probably write more and may or may not add to this post in the future, we’ll see. That here is just more or less stream-of-consciousness rambling. I am curious, though, if anyone else has any thoughts on this? I’d love to read them!

#the sandman #the sandman meta #sandman meta #the sandman netflix #lucienne #hob gadling #dream of the endless #morpheus #morphienne #dreamling #this meta can be read as shippy or platonic I think #I personally am more of a Dreamling shipper but this wasn't the focus when I wrote this #mine

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storiesforallfandoms · 3 years ago

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secret matching tattoos ~ pete davidson

word count: 1148

request?: yes!

“I was hoping you could do a Pete Davidson and Reader story where they pick out tattoos for each other but they can’t see until it’s done kind of like that show with Snooki”

description: when you’re already covered in tattoos it’s nothing to let your significant other pick your next one, especially when you get to pick theirs in return

pairing: pete davidson x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

“If you pick out a dick to be tattooed on my back I’m going to kill you,” you said as you laid down on the tattoo artist’s table.

“I’m not gonna ask them to tattoo a dick on your back,” Pete said as he continued to scroll through the ideas on his phone. “Although that is tempting.”

“I will pick out something far worse to be tattooed on you, but I’ll ask them to put it somewhere that everyone will see it.”

Pete smiled in amusement. He glanced down at his phone again before showing your tattoo artist whatever he had finally chosen to get tattooed on you.

You were both bored one day, neither one of you had work or anything important happening, so you decided to do something fun and go to get new tattoos. However, there was a twist on how it was going to happen. You had suggested picking out secret tattoos for one another, something that neither of you would be able to see until it was tattooed on your bodies. Pete was a bit skeptical but also intrigued by the idea.

You had decided to get one on your back since that was one of the only places you truly had available where you were covered in tattoos. Pete decided to get his on his arm since it was somewhere everyone could see. You had already chosen what his was going to be: the date of your anniversary, all together without any dashes or anything, with a small red heart at the end.

The tattoo artist went to make a stencil for your tattoo while Pete sat next to you. You turned your head to look up at him the best you could while still laying on your stomach.

“Should I go prepare for mine, too?” he asked. “So that we can be done at the same time.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “The one I picked for you is small, it’ll only take like 10 minutes maybe.”

A guilty look crossed his face. “Oh...mine is gonna be a bit longer.”

You nearly jumped up from the table. “What?! How big is it?”

Before he could respond, the tattoo artist walked back in and asked, “So, should I do this with or without color?”

You glared up at Pete again, realizing you’d have to be on this table for a long time.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t gotten big tattoos before. You had a few on your legs and one on your arm, but you preferred smaller tattoos - simple ones. Ones that only took maybe half an hour then they were finished. You weren’t exactly prepared to have a big one tattooed on you, especially since you were sure it was going to hurt like a bitch.

You made yourself comfortable on the table as the tattoo artist positioned the stencil on your back between your shoulder blades. You looked up at Pete once more before the needle touched your back and you had to try and stop yourself from jumping in pain.

The fact that the tattoo was somewhere you couldn’t see made it so much worst. You had no idea if it was nearly finished or halfway or if nothing was done at all. You tried to guess what was being done but you had absolutely no idea. You couldn’t picture anything the lines were creating in your head.

“If this is just a series of scribbly lines I’m changing my idea to a giant dick right on your forehead,” you muttered as you winced again.

Pete chuckled. “It’s not a bunch of scribbles! Just wait, it’ll be done soon.”

You peaked at him. “Are you sure?”

Pete placed a hand on your shoulder and you felt your body relax under his touch. You were glad you had gotten him to stay, even though his tattoo definitely wouldn’t have taken as long.

You nearly sighed in relief when the tattoo artist sprayed the cool water on your back to wash off the tattoo. He applied the protective bandage over the tattoo and officially declared that you were good to look at it.

You had decided to go with the simple black theme you had with all your tattoos, so you saw a bouquet of colorless flowers between your shoulder blades, a colorless bow tying them together.

“Flowers?” you asked Pete.

“Yeah. According to the internet they all mean love in one way or another.”

Upon looking closer, you realized the bouquet was an assortment of roses, daises, and carnations. You knew the meaning behind roses, everyone did, but you had no idea about the others. Knowing how much thought he had put into it filled you with warmth.

“It’s beautiful,” you said, turning to face Pete. “Thank you babe.”

He smiled at you and leaned down to kiss you.

You pulled your t-shirt back on and gestured for him to sit in the chair next. “Okay darling, your turn.”

He chuckled awkwardly as he sat down. “Part of me was hoping you’d forget about that.”

“No way! We’re both getting tattoos, it’s only fair.” You nodded for the tattoo artist to follow you so you could discuss your idea with him.

You were amused by Pete’s nervousness. He genuinely wasn’t sure what you were going to permanently put on his body. You played it up a little like you really had picked something awful to have tattooed, your giggles gave you away.

Wanting the tattoo to be a surprise, you made Pete face you as much as he could the entire time. Every time he’d turn towards the arm getting tattooed, you’d turn his head back to you. When it was finished, Pete had to look at the tattoo for a long time to try and figure out what it was.

“It’s our anniversary,” you finally told him. “With a little heart at the end.”

“So it is,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “That’s so cute.”

“I just thought you needed a permanent reminder that I’m gonna be around for a long time.”

“I’m sure there’s a less painful way you could’ve told me that, but I do really like the idea. Thank you.”

You paid for your tattoos and headed out to Pete’s car. You winced as your back touched the seat. Okay, trying to sit and lay down is going to suck.

Pete chuckled as he started the car. “You really thought I was going to have a dick tattooed on you.”

“Listen, I wouldn’t put it past you, okay?”

“Well, I did think you were going to do something to me too, so I guess we’re even.”

You smiled at him. “But look at us! We chose cute things instead. We’re a mature couple.”

He gave me a look. “Let’s not go too far now.”

You giggled and kissed his cheek.

#Pete Davidson #pete davidson imagine #pete davidson x reader #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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lycanlovebites · 7 months ago

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[part two//continued]

when your parents passed the priest took you into the church to take care of you, a foundling. The priest was old even by then and he feared his time would come for him eventually and the town needed someone to take his place sooner rather than later. So he began preparing you. Teaching you discipline, how to break yourself to fit into a mold of expectations, how to worship, how to destroy beautiful things of yours, how to become holy, how to hide yourself from everyone, even yourself. He taught you what it meant to be priest in this town, what it meant for the portal that appeared in the heart of the church, beating in and out of existence like a heartbeat of soemthing bigger than you. Demons came through and it was his duty and all of the priests before him to kill them before they could leave the church. You are all that stands against forces of corruption in this town and for many, many more beyond. you didn’t want to know, did you Father? You were a young boy, only fourteen when the priest forced you to read the texts on how to destroy demons. He showed you exactly where to strike, the words to say, the weapons to use to kill. He made you learn how to kill, and you were just a boy. You were just a boy. When he died and left you as the priest of this church, you thought you would be free. But the people raised you up so high on a pedastal that you struggle to stay atop of, and now everyone sees you. Always watching, always judging. No. You never truly had a choice to become the man you are now, and for that I’m sorry. the demon. Valentine. Do you resent them? A demonic being of blood and born of fire and wings and talons. They travelled through the portal, wandering out and into the sanctuary that fateful night when you were unaware. You were kneeling at the altar that night, confessing to the empty church, to god, the angel, to anyone who would listen. Neither of you saw them then, how lucky. do you wish you saw them arrive, Father? Do you wish you were there to stop them before it was too late? Do you wish you did not love them so, as they love you? Do you wish you had it in you then to be the man you were supposed to be, to kill? Do you believe that had they not arrived that night, had they not left you notes and gifts, temptations borne out of love for you, of food and wine and flowers and books, had you not fallen for them and they in love with you, you would be holy? Do you believe they tainted your spirit? It’s a cruel thought I know. But I see you’ve entertained it when your mind is dark and heavy. Answer this, Father: do you think you would do it all over again for this? Accepted the gifts and talked with the demon, befriended them, grew close and held each other like you did all those many many nights, even if you sinned, even if you broke vows every day and night to be with them and your angel? Would you do it all again to have all of this? Your love and memories and this place you three share?

even if it means hiding from everyone else? Of fearing for your dear Valentine’s life and perhaps your own as well?

wow. Wow. Uh yeah. I got possessed by the need to write about him and I ended up turning my response to your tags into like a story of itself woopsie :P I had lots of fun writing this! Also about your other tags: I will definitely tag u in stuff in the future of things involving the catholicsonas 👍 also no hard feeling abt misgendering Valentine! They won’t magically curse you for it I promise. it’s an honest mistake so no worries :]

here’s a bit of a story I was working on involving Father Gabriel and Valentine! (Sol is also there too but he’s not really mentioned oops. He’s off doing something else I guess)

its a discarded first draft that I still like a lot even though it doesn’t work in this particular scene because it gives really good insight into Gabriel’s inner thoughts and also his Catholic guilt. It’s also UNEDITED in any way so sorry if there’s typos and the dialogue and stuff is oddly placed! (btw will anyone believe me if I said that this was the first draft for a smut fic I was writing yes or no?? I scrapped this draft because it was far too serious and angsty for the situation I wanted. Valentine is ready to fuck nasty and have a nice time and treat their boyfriend meanwhile Gabriel is struggling with Catholic guilt and paranoia. The vibe was off for him and I felt bad trying to get him into a sex scene when that man should be having a therapy session instead. Like its ok king take ur time, you and Valentine can try later when you feel better)

story below the cut! (It’s a bit long)

Father Gabriel closed the front door behind him. “I can’t believe that happened,” he said more to himself than to the cheeky demon who caused the scene, who was hanging their sparkly red blazer on the coat rack next to him. “What if people saw? No, how many people saw that? How many people saw me?” He said aloud with horror.

“Relax darling.” Valentine put a hand on his shoulder. “Believe me, no one saw my little display except you. Otherwise some old biddies would have me roasting at a stake by now.” They gave him a little grin at that last part. He was sure they found the idea of being tied up by little old ladies quite funny judging from their expression. It was meant to be reassuring but the idea of other church members burning his partner at the stake wasn’t exactly pleasant.

“That’s my point. It’s not safe for you to risk being found out by the church! If they find out you’re not human they’ll… they’ll do unspeakable things to you. I can’t risk you getting hurt, Valentine. Burning you at the stake would be the least of your worries if the wrong people get their claws on you.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “It’s not only your safety too. I also have a reputation to uphold, as horrible as it is sometimes. I’m a priest. I’m not supposed to get flustered over someone at communion. The people see me as a symbol of devotion and modesty, and I fear what might happen if they see me as anything other than that. I’m supposed to be committed to God alone, not blushing over my handsome friend from out of town.” He was so worried. Valentine seemed so confident to show off but he feared what would happen if they reveal too much. Gabriel knew what happened to demons in churches they weren’t welcomed in. He’d seen it happen with his own eyes, was forced to read the books on how to do it himself, and he knew that powerful people with hatred in their hearts for even an inkling of difference would never stop until they get what they want.

“Darling, look at me.” Valentine stood in front of him and gently took his hand in theirs. “It’s going to be alright. I promise you that no one saw my little display to you, and as far as I saw no one seemed to say anything about your blush today. I mean, if you ask me, it was quite warm in church today, and you were quite lively in today’s sermon. I wouldn’t see anything unusual about how the priest was a bit more red than usual after that rousing sermon he gave. And I feel most people know how warm it can be in your cassock with all those layers.” They assured him. Gabriel wasn’t fully convinced, but their words did help. He stared down at his hand and watched Valentine gently stroke the back of his hand with a thumb. Such a small gesture, yet it still sent a shiver through his body at the touch. They didn’t want him to worry, he knew that. It was just hard sometimes to let these things go. He was always under scrutiny, always being perceived and his actions always judged by someone. If not by God then by the townspeople who looked up to him. At least that’s what he felt. Maybe it wasn’t true. Maybe there wasn’t actually anyone who cared about these things besides him. He was just so worried all of the time lately. Maybe since he was a child. First about being good, following all the rules and being a faithful servant to the church. Then he worried about being sinful. Always ashamed of the way his heart beat against his chest when he saw Brother Marcus in the vestry, of the way he laid awake so many nights consumed with thoughts of him and Marcus doing terrible, lustful things. Now he was worried for Valentine and their safety. Of them being found out and torn away from the safety of his protection and killed. Soleil had to disguise themself as well, but for Valentine their disguise was a matter of life or death. Sol would be worshiped and adored if the townspeople knew what they were. But Valentine would be hunted down and killed before Gabriel’s feet if they were ever found out.

Gabriel was also worried about his reputation as a perfect chaste little servant of god. Someone pure, someone who was completely devoted to their god and had no room in their heart for any sinful thoughts of other people. The people saw him as one of them. No, better than them. They put him on a pedestal. They listened to his words and came to him for guidance, and he overheard how they spoke of him. With reverence, a deep respect. As if he was truly holy. But Gabriel knew he wasn’t. He was impure, tainted, guilty. His god did not answer his prayers and he knew he was dishonest to the townspeople when he pretended to be that man everyone saw him as.

He yearned for respite from the terror and guilt that plagued him for most of his life. He just wanted to let them all go.

He let out a sigh, trying to let go of his worries with it. “You’re probably right. No one came up to me about anything today after the service so I suppose no one saw anything unusual.” He focused his attention on his hand being gently held in Valentine’s. He took another deep breath and forced the worries out of him along with it. In. It will be okay. Out. No one saw what happened today. In. We’re safe.

[@justaderivative hope you don’t mind me tagging you in this! This has a good bit of lore/info abt Gabriel in it so instead of making an info post about him (I mean I still probably will but yknow) this is some good info for him and his less fun and whimsical stuff ]

#Catholicsonas #oc: father gabriel #my writing #long post

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ameliora-j · 3 years ago

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twin flame // gw x reader

words: 3.8k

series genre: angst, fluff, smut (all in due time)

warnings: jealous george, angry george, charlie x reader kinda, mentioned ronmine, mentioned hinny, mentioned bleur, percy weasley slander, alcohol consumption, spitting kink (sorta if you squint), cringey pet names, mediocre writing at best

a/n: idk how many parts this will be,, maybe 5. but i already have the ending in mine. happy reading loves!

part two | part three | part four

twin flame (n.): an intense soul connection, sometimes called a "mirror soul," thought to be a person's other half. it's based on the idea that sometimes one soul gets split into two bodies. one of the main characteristics of a twin flame relationship is that it will be both challenging and healing. this is due to the mirroring nature of a twin flame; they show you your deepest insecurities, fears, and shadows. but they also help you overcome them and vice versa—your twin flame will be equally affected by you.

george weasley. what could you say about george weasley? he is… charismatic. funny, charming, fiery, pretty. everything. george is everything. he’s your best friend, of course, since the two of you were young. your fathers worked at the ministry together, so you and your siblings had playdates with the weasley siblings all the time, whether it be at your house or at the burrow. george is three years your senior, and he’s extremely protective of you. more than your soulmate, george is your twin flame—platonically, of course—that’s all that it would ever be. solely a platonic connection. at least that’s what you thought…

after the war, you and george became even closer. something about both of your lives being put on the line brought the two of you that much closer. after the war, you moved into the apartment above the joke shop with fred and george and began working as the store clerk and attendant. your parents had, unfortunately, died in the war and left just you and your siblings. when you told your older brother that you couldn’t stay in the house filled with memories, he completely understood. fred and george offered you to stay with them, and how could you say no to your favorite twins and your best friends? and besides, fred wouldn’t have let you say no. especially after you saved his life, pushing him out of the way of the falling debris. (fred weasley is alive. no i don’t take criticism.)

the transition was possibly the easiest thing you had ever gone through in your life. living with fred and george was a dream. it was all late night movie dates and cooking dinner together which ended up with the three of you throwing various ingredients at each other and laughing your heads off. this meant that you guys often ended up flooing to the burrow, and eating whatever it was that molly made for dinner that night.

that leads us to another point. molly. she absolutely adores you. she thanked you a million times over for saving fred’s life, it’s not something that she would ever let you forget. she’s like your second mom, and she thinks the world of you. everytime you saw her, she was sure to remind you that you could just give her a call if fred and george ever got out of line and she would be sure to put them back in check. not that you ever needed to, the twins were lovely to be around.

you were finishing up with your last customer of the day as george was locking up the doors and fred was beginning to clean up. just as the last customer walked out, george walked up to you and sat atop the counter in front of you as you were wiping it clean. “oh, please make yourself comfortable,” you remarked sarcastically as you threw away the clorox wipe.

“thanks love, i did,” he smirked. you rolled your eyes with a giggle as you began your count of the money in the register. “so as you know… we’re closing the shop up for christmas,” he began.

“georgie, if you have something to ask then please ask it,” you lightly teased.

“mum wants you to come to the burrow for christmas. i, of course, would also love for you to come. but mum’s threatened me a million times over if i don’t ask. i told her that you had your own family but she absolutely insisted at least ask you. she also told me to tell you that charlie would be there. as well as ron and hermione and harry and ginny and bill and fleur,” george spoke.

“well gosh, if charlie’s going, then i have to be there. after all, he is the hottest weasley brother,” you joked. if you weren’t so oblivious, then you would’ve noticed the look on george’s face after your harmless joke. you would’ve noticed the way his jaw hardened and his nostrils flared. you would’ve saw that way his gaze turned icy and the vein in his neck began to protrude in just the slightest as his face turned the slightest shade of pink. and you absolutely wouldn’t have missed the way that his chuckle wasn’t truly one of humor. you wouldn’t have missed how tense he became and you definitely wouldn’t have missed the ice in his tone when he replied.

“good one, love. are you coming or not?” the words were harsh, but you paid no mind. you didn’t catch it, but fred did. you also didn’t catch the harsh glare that fred sent his twin brother. or the way that he mouthed harsh words at him as he fixed him with an even harsher glare. but of course… you were oblivious. to you, george saw you as nothing more than a very good friend. a younger sister even. after all, you were ginny’s age. but to george…? to george he saw everything.

you were charismatic. funny, charming, fiery, pretty. gorgeous even. you were… ethereal. you were george’s everything and he was your’s. but the two of you didn’t know that. both of you were hiding a huge secret from each other. one that neither of you dared reveal. you didn’t dare tell anyone. your crush on george weasley was a secret that you were absolutely prepared to take to your grave. nobody knew. okay well that’s a lie… harry knew. but that’s only because the bugger was practicing his stupid legilimency and failed to tell you that you were the subject.

your heart fell to your ass when you heard the loud gasp harry let out and you turned to see his wand aimed at you. “you like-“ you practically flew across the gryffindor table and shoved your hand over his mouth before he could reveal your secret. the action had all heads turning to you, causing you to sheepishly smile and offer a wave before pulling away from him, demanding that he follow you. “you like george?!” he whisper shouted once you had finally lead him into an abandoned classroom.

“yes, but harry please don’t say anything, you have to swear it on your parents!” you exclaimed.

“that seems a brash, no?” harry raised a brow.

“swear it, potter! or i’ll hex you into oblivion,” you threatened.

“i swear it! i swear it!” he put his hands up as if in defense. you nodded once before pivoting on your heel. “he likes you too,” he spoke behind you.

“stick your foot in your mouth!” you grumbled, stomping away.

it was three days before christmas, and you fred and george were fully packed. you were sat in george’s room, kneeling on the floor as you packed your last few items and began to zip your bag. there was a soft knock on the door before it opened. “all ready, butterfly?” george asked. that’s another thing about the weasley twin—he had called you butterfly for as long as he could talk. you figured that it was because the two of you would chase butterflies together when you were little. once, a blue monarch landed on your nose, causing you to let out the sweetest giggle. if you ask george, he’d tell you that it was that exact moment that caused him to fall in love with you.

you looked ethereal. the way the blue monarch landed gently on your nose and you just let out the purest giggle. “georgie, look!” you exclaimed quietly so as not to frighten the creature as the giggle fluttered in your chest and tumbled past your lips. it was then that he knew. the sun shone on you so perfectly, like a spotlight almost. like the ball of fire in the sky was made for you and you only. the smile on your face was unmatched as continuous giggles spilled past your lips and your hair cascaded down your back. george fell in love with you that day. and at that moment, he decided that he would stop at absolutely nothing to see you smile like that again. to hear you giggle like that again. in that moment, everything was okay. there was no wizarding war. no death eaters and no voldemort. no dark thoughts and no fear. there was just you and george. and the pretty blue butterfly that made him fall in love.

you looked up at him and shot him a smile before nodding. he offered you a hand and you took it, allowing him to pull you up from the floor. he carried your bag down the stairs for you and the three of you stood in front of the fireplace. “you first, butterfly,” georgie smiled and kissed your head. you stepped into the fireplace and fred handed you the floo powder. you called out your destination before throwing the powder. you stepped out at the burrow and were immediately tackled into a hug.

“y/n/n!” ginny exclaimed, lifting you from the ground and twirling you in the air.

“hi gin,” you wrapped your arms around her neck as a giggle tumbled past your lips. fred stepped out after you, and her reaction was less than thrilled to see him. she simply waved after she set you on the ground, dragging you into the living room as she ignored the younger twin that had now also stepped out of the fireplace.

“great to see you too, baby sister,” george teased lightly.

“don’t care george!” she called. you greeted arthur and molly before kneeling in front of the coffee table in the living room. charlie, hermione, fleur, and harry were each sat on the couches and ginny kneeled next to you. “sooo… tell us everything!” she exclaimed excitedly.

“about what?” you asked with a giggle.

“about george!” she whisper shouted as she slapped your shoulder.

“there’s nothing to tell, gin. he’s my best friend, he has been since we were young,” you explained, trying to force the heat that was creeping up your neck away.

“bullshit, y/n! harry already told me, now spill it all!” she demanded.

“harry!” you pressed.

“she threatened me if i didn’t tell her!” he exclaimed. “and i’m more scared of her than i am of you,” he defended with a nervous gulp.

“well i didn’t tell anyone, y/n. only fleur and hermione,” she waved it off.

“dude!” you slapped her shoulder.

“well we didn’t tell anyone, mon amour,” fleur assured as she sipped her drink.

“i… may have accidentally let it slip to charlie a few minutes ago…” hermione spoke sheepishly.

“you told charlie?! he can’t keep a secret to save his life!” you whined.

“hey, ‘m right here!” charlie defended. “and i didn’t tell anyone but my dragons, and they can’t speak. so i’m doing better than eighty percent of the people here,” he smirked.

you groaned as your entire body heated up in embarrassment. “this is awful. absolutely awful, ‘m gonna die. if he ever finds out i’ll actually die. what am i gonna do?” you whined as your arms came up to cover your face.

“we’re gonna make him jealous, bunny,” you heard charlie’s voice and suddenly the burly, bearded man was straddling you and pinning your arms above your head.

“what are you on about, weasley?” you glared, skeptically.

“well y/n/n, it’s no secret that you’re… well… a huge pussy,” gin began.

“hey!” you exclaimed indignantly.

“she’s not wrong,” charlie defended, causing you to turn your glare to the astronomically muscled man that still had you pinned to the floor with one hand, using zero of his strength. you had tried fighting him off, but you gave up as you had been squirming and struggling for upwards of forty seconds, and the man hadn’t even budged, nor had he broken a sweat. it took zero effort for him to pin your body to the floor as he straddled your waist and kept your arms pinned down with one hand.

“okay so, what’s your diabolical plan, gin?” you asked as you let out a sigh.

“actually, it’s my plan. the same thing i did to ron with viktor, you’re going to do to george with charlie. you’re going to use charlie to make him jealous. the both of you will be here at the burrow for a few days at least, and george will as well. you make that boy suffer. make him want you. force his hand, make him make a move, whether he wants to or not,” hermione explained.

“charlie’s already agreed to help so you can’t say no. we don’t want to hear it,” harry shook his head.

“you told him ‘accidentally?’” you looked at hermione in disbelief as you put the word in air quotes… well as best as you could with your hands pinned above your body.

“no it was absolutely on purpose. we needed his help. bill’s already married, ron’s got mione, no one likes percy, and fred’s his twin so george would be able to manipulate the situation and act like fred and make you spill all the beans,” ginny said.

“i like percy,” you weakley defended the third weasley sibling.

“no you don’t!” harry accused.

“no i really don’t, he gave me four detentions in one week during first year,” you grumbled.

“merlin’s balls, four?!” charlie exclaimed above you. “why so many?”

“i didn’t know how to tie my tie,” you pouted. “and it was a violation of uniform, so instead of being a nice person and teaching me, he served me detention everytime it was untied,” you told them.

“yeah percy’s sort of an asshole,” you all murmured agreements at harry’s statement before molly called you to the kitchen for dinner. charlie stood up before pulling you to stand and you all walked to the table. you sat between charlie and bill, and across from george. you missed the strange look he gave when you didn’t take your usual place beside him as you were too absorbed in your own mind with how the plan was going to go and if everything would go according to plan or not.

“so, y/n, dear how have you been?” molly asked. “we’ve missed you dearly. i’ve caught up with all of my children except for you, what’s it like living with the rowdiest of my boys?” she asked, kindly.

your face heat up again as molly called you one of her children before you began to answer. “it’s awesome. fred and george are sweethearts. i’m the attendant and the clerk at the joke shop and it’s honestly just… a dream. i really love it,” you smiled widely as you talked about life with the twins.

“and uhm… any… special guys?” ginny pressed, gently nudging your shin with her foot under the table.

“ginevra weasley!” molly chastised.

“what, mum?! it’s a genuine question!” ginny defended.

“nothing serious,” you shrugged with a nervous chuckle. “there is a guy that i guess i kinda have a crush on. but i think he sees me as nothing more than a friend,” you shrugged, telling the truth about your crush on george, but turning your gaze to charlie before averting your gaze quickly. you heard a deep chuckle come from charlie on your right before he pat your thigh, causing heat to rush through your entire body once again. this time, you didn’t miss the unmistakable clench in george’s jaw and the way his nostrils flared, signifying that he was positively pissed.

the rest of dinner went by completely uneventfully. it was rather quiet actually, untill it was time to clean up. you, ginny, hermione, and fleur helped molly clean the table and the dishes as the boys all went to the living room. “well,” molly began as the dishes were finished. “percy, your room has been turned to storage, sorry dear. fred and george’s beds have been moved to ron’s room, so there are four beds in there, and your room holds all my knitting. charlie’s room is available, as well as bill’s and ginny’s. you may decide how you all sleep,” molly offered you all a smile before she and arthur bid you all goodnight and went up to his room.

“gin, you can share with hermione and y/n, yeah? perce, you and i can share my room. bill and fleur will take his, and george, fred, ron, and harry can all sleep in ron’s room. sound good?” charlie laid it out. everyone agreed with a small shrug and no arguments. “perfect. now that that’s all out of the way. gin, where do mum and dad keep the firewhiskey?” charlie smirked evilly.

ginny squealed excitedly as she stood and rushed to the kitchen. she came back with two bottles of firewhiskey and bill and charlie got blankets before you all went outside. the guys laid out the blankets by the fire pit as george and fred began to start the fire. “c’mon, bunny,” charlie motioned you over. “come sit with me,” he pat his lap.

heat rushed through your body for the fifth time that night as you stalked over to the man and sat beside him. he pulled you to be sitting in between his legs and your breathing picked up just slightly as a million and four nerves ran all throughout your body. “really need you to relax f’me, bunny,” he whispered into your ear as he brushed your hair off your shoulder, purposefully brushing his fingers across your neck, causing goosebumps to arise on your skin where he had touched. his arms wrapped around your shoulders and he pulled your back to rest against his chest. “s’just me. y’ve known me your whole life,” he reassured you gently.

“just you,” you scoffed. “just you who is literally the hottest weasley brother and possibly the hottest man on the planet. just you who i’ve had a school girl crush on since i was five. just you who is actually sex on legs,” you rolled your eyes. “just you,” you mocked with another scoff as you shook your head.

charlie openly laughed at your small rant, causing you to elbow him in the ribs. “okay, okay, sorry bunny. but really, i need you to relax. georgie won’t be jealous if he sees how tense you are around me,” he reasoned as he began to gently massage your neck and shoulders before moving his hands down to your collarbones and continuing back up, effectively loosening your muscles, causing you to relax more into him.

“alright. lads, ladies, ron…” ginny began. ron furrowed his eyebrows before turning to glare at the insult from his little sister. “truth… or drink?” ginny smirked as she held up the bottle. “everyone drink enough to get you feeling it and then pass it along so we can start and nobody can tell lies,” she laid out the ground rules before she drank the firewhiskey.

you, fleur, ginny, and hermione drank significantly less than the guys as it took more for it to hit them than it did to hit the four of you. you giggled drunkenly from your place underneath charlie’s chin as you began to feel the effects of the firewhiskey. it was unexpected, but you weren’t complaining as charlie’s strong, veiny hand wrapped around your throat and pulled your head back to look up at him. you let out an involuntary whimper as he poured the firewhiskey into your mouth and you quickly swallowed it, causing him to smirk (basically this tiktok). “good girl,” he whispered as he kissed your forehead, making you let out another small noise of satisfaction.

“okay!” george called loudly, interrupting your moment, and making you smirk. everything was going according to plan. “i’ll go first then, freddie,” he called. fred turned to look at him with a raised brow. “what’s going on with you and johnson, then?”

“nothing, you know that, mate. went to the ball as friends in fourth year, we keep in touch but we’re nothing more than friends,” fred shrugged.

“so you wouldn’t mind if i made a move then?” george asked, turning to look at you, tauntingly. your jaw clenched and your nostrils flared as you felt a big, green cloud of jealousy begin to blossom deep within your chest.

“uh… go ahead,” fred shrugged, confusion lacing his tone. “ginny, have you and harry had sex yet?” fred asked.

“blue. y/n, which of my brothers do you want to fuck the most?” ginny totally ignored fred’s question and gave you a chance to fire back at george with your own rage.

“charlie,” you answered quickly, staring back at george just as tauntingly, jaw still clenched, glare hard and icy. george’s jaw clenched harder if that was even possible and you didn’t miss the eye roll. “mione, are you and ron official yet?” you moved on.

“no, not really. we’re exclusive to each other, but he hasn’t asked me to be his girlfriend yet,” she answered, doing her best to ignore the tension in the air.

you and george’s eye contact never broke throughout the entire game. your faces never changed. it turned into a competition of who could make the other more jealous. your faces were set in stone. jaw’s clenched. nostrils flared. glares icy. tones cold whenever you answered a question. one thing you knew for sure… this week with the weasleys was gonna be a shit show. it would either end in heartache or a new relationship. who knew?

the week brought upon two options. you came to a fork in the road. option a would pour gasoline onto your twin flame. expanding it untill it exploded and brought upon a future for you and george that was even brighter than your flame. option b would pour water onto your twin flame, completely fizzling it out. destroying the most amazing friendship you’d ever come to be apart of.

you truly hoped it would be option a. with your whole entire being, you prayed to godric, and salazar, and helga, and rowena, and merlin, and every single one of the gods you knew that would listen that it would be option a. but with the way that just tonight alone was going… your hope slowly began to fizzle out.

you fell asleep with that prayer in your mind. you fell asleep hoping the week would fuel your twin flame. you fell asleep with both george and charlie weasley running all through your head. wondering just what was going to come about. the night was long and completely restless. you could do nothing but sit and wait. to see what would result of your twin flame.

one thing you were completely sure of was that you would make george weasley your’s. just like hermione said, you would force his hand. you would make him want you.

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