#or simply seeking distinctive decor

[thoughtsfromlayla]

Love and Loss

Summary: Despite being married for centuries, the two lovers have yet to produce an heir. Desperate for a child, she makes a deal with Phanes, God of Life, unbeknownst to her that motherhood has its own complications much like love and marriage. Now she must find a way to save both her child and her love.

Notes: ~11k words, only lightly edited... so yeah. Also, this is my first time posting any of my writing so I'm nervous as fuuuuck. I keep switching between past and present tense but I think I caught them all but idk. Let me know if I miss any tags or warnings! (There's so many plot holes but shhhh)

Warnings: MDNI - 18+ content, one use of Y/N but written in 3rd person, Reader has a "name" that's only used twice, pregnancy, loss of pregnancy, metaphorical use of surrogation, usage of miscarriage themes, jealousy, P in V, oral (F! receiving), unprotected sex, jealous Dream but that's to be expected really, regency-esque, diverges from cannon

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Despite having been in the Dreaming for so long, its frigid air was something she could never get used to. The temperature always fixed itself somewhere between an unheated house on a winter’s day and a spring day in the shade. Despite her title in the realm, she always felt like a child walking to the kitchen late at night to grab a snack whenever she meanders into the great hall. 

The castle of the Dreaming was her home, and she was the owner in every right as her husband. A small black cat accompanies her, its green collar and bell jingle with each step in its preppy trot. Her Lady wore simple garments, a dark green dress with slits to match her feline friend. Its light-weight fabric billows around her with a breeze that never seems to stop and some golden jewelry decorated her neck and arms, all gifts from his Lord. She opted to walk barefoot, skin to soil, so as not to hurt her feet necessarily before the upcoming dinner the Dreaming would host later today—the idea her own entirely that her husband agreed to for her sake. 

Her legs move her toward the throne room, where she is certain her husband presides. Still, her feet are cold and thus she picks up the pace. Her steps are lighthearted as she prances on her tiptoes, heels dangling from her fingers. 

Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, King of the Nightmare Realms, Prince of Stories. She was sure there were more, but if she were to start listing them all in her head, she’d be stuck there all day. Morpheus was as old as humanity itself, perhaps even older. But as she sees him spread out on his throne, the air of authority is never questioned. Age has only made him more intimidating. 

Morpheus commands any space he enters. His shadow fills each nook and cranny it seemed fit, aura chilling and distant. Yet he himself was a beautiful creature indeed. His modern form molded himself into a lean body, distinct muscle lines, and a strong jaw. His dark hair always looked tousled as if he had rolled out of bed a mere minute ago, and despite how often she would run her hair through the silky strands, they never behaved as they should have. 

“Wife, mine,” Morpheus greets as she nears the bottom of the stairs. “What ails you to seek me out?”

The Lady smiles and gives a small curtsy before she ascends the curved stairs. “Nothing ails me, my lord. Must one have a reason to see her husband?”

Morpheus lets out an entertained breath before opening his arms in invitation. Another graceful smile appears on her lips as she sits comfortably in his lap, his arms encircling her. 

“No, I suppose not,” He replies. He watches as she makes herself as comfortable as she can, leaning her head on his shoulder in a way that wouldn’t mess up her hair. The handmaidens would not stop fussing over it if a single strand was out of place from their original design.

“I simply wish to spend some time with you before our feast. I fear that I will be whisked away as I entertain guests for the evening.” She closes her eyes and steadies herself on the patterned breathing of her husband. 

“I will stay by your side if you so command it,” Morpheus says. He runs his thumb in circles on her bare shoulder.

“And have everyone afraid to approach me? With your dark and brooding act?” She jests, her eyes opening briefly to look into his. 

He can’t help his eyes rolling at her slight tease. “As you wish, my love.”

The two lovers sit for a moment. The sounds of her cat purring and their breaths mingling fill the air. But serenity such as this never lasts long in a castle like theirs. Lucienne comes from a hallway, presumably, the library’s, dressed up as well. Her coat was tailored to fit her body, her shoes freshly shined, and her glasses cleaned. 

She gives a curt bow to the two sovereigns. “My lord, my lady,” She addresses. “The guests will be arriving soon.”

“Thank you, Lucienne,” Her lady says. She reluctantly releases herself from the warmth of her husband and uses the throne as a brace to put on her shoes. Her husband’s hand rests on the small of her back to further assist her. 

“I will see you very soon, my king,” She says leaning down to peck his cheek before descending the stairs. She looks back once with another smile and then follows Lucienne to greet the arriving guests. 

Morpheus’s eyes watch her figure until she turns a corner. He was still underdressed, his day previously preoccupied with trying to find a certain nightmare. He was simply idling on his throne in a simple black attire with his long coat. After all, a king need not worry about how he looks if he commands respect without golden bribes. With a wave of his hand, sand befalls him and covers him like ivy to a broken wall. When they recede he is dawning a tight button-up undershirt and vest, its fabric weaved with intrinsic cloud-like designs. His coat is now replaced with another of a similar shape and design but resembles cotton instead of the original felt. He fastens the raven cufflinks and smooths down his pants before rising from his throne and going to the Dreaming’s castle garden.

When Morpheus enters the gardens he immediately spots his wife at the entrance, standing underneath a pergola of purple wisterias and climbing hydrangeas. The flowers slowly lean towards the goddess as her presence fuels them by simple proximity.  Her cat is nowhere to be seen and probably ran off into the gardens after a rodent caught his eye. 

Morpheus slides up beside his wife as she greets the last of the guests arriving. He turns his head towards the decorated table and can see a great spread of gods, goddesses, fairies, nymphs, and other mystical creatures that his wife had managed to befriend—the feeling of her arm wrapping around his redirects his attention. 

“Shall we, lord husband?” She gives him another one of her smiles and he understands how the hanging flowers feel. How he had ever lived without her before was still a mystery to him. To be him without her, it is like the Earth without its Sun - and he wishes to always feel the gravitational pull of her love. 

Morpheus leads them towards the aggregation of guests, all of whom devote their attention to them. 

“Beloved guests,” His wife starts speaking in her nectar-like tone, “Despite what is currently happening in the waking world, we are pleased that you could make time and attend this wondrous dinner.”

The goddess pauses for a brief moment as her guests clap in agreement. When they stop, she continues. “The feast is served buffet style, please eat and enjoy yourself to the fullest content. The Dreaming is here for your convenience.”

With her open palm, a long table appears with dishes of all types. Wreaths and fresh flowers decorate any empty space, which is to say, not much. Lambs, beef, and several types of poultry and fish take centerpieces along the table. Fruits, vegetables, and freshly baked bread weave in between the large plates as palate cleansers and small plates appear on the very corners of the table. A satisfied smile appeared on Her Lady’s face as the guests began grabbing food.

As the dust settles and smaller niches of guests start grouping, Morpheus is displeased when his wife leaves his side to mingle amongst the other gods. He watches from the shadows, small fruit plate in hand, glooming as she smiles with her guests. A hand comes up to hide her mouth as she laughs at something Phanes, God of Life, said. Jealousy brews and grows bitter like spoiled milk. 

Morpheus stands, ready to come to his wife’s side in hopes of deterring the god, but before he can a nymph comes forward and gives an exaggerated curtsy. He can’t help the slight roll of his eyes as she begins to talk him up. The nymph’s voice carries a small lithe to it and he becomes unfocused, only noticing the movement of his wife’s green dress and Phanes walking off into the hedge labyrinth. 

A frown etches itself onto his face. The nymph choosing to ignore the frown finds the courage to lift a mossy hand to caress his coat’s lapel, to which the Endless notices. Morpheus looks down at the nymph, his hand tightly grabbing into her wrist and dropping it away from him. 

“Do not presume you may touch me, insolent child.” His voice is deep and grave as his frown deepens. 

The nymph’s face contorted into embarrassment as red poppies boom across her cheeks and ears. She briskly walks away, forgetting to curtsy, with her tail tucked between her legs. The forest nymph looks forward to the next time she meets the Dream King, but she does not know that this will be the last time the doors of the Dreaming will open to her. 

Dream makes a beeline towards the hedge labyrinth, taking a right turn as he had witnessed his wife doing moments ago. But, as something as lucid as the Dreaming, the labyrinth path twists and turns in new ways each moment. Morpheus turns left and right based on where he could feel his wife’s presence, but seems that she does not want to be found.

As a deity in her own right, should she so command it, she would not be found. Something that the Endless found infuriating at the moment. What could she possibly be doing with Phanes? Did she invite him for a personal reason? Was the dinner event a ruse so she could speak with him without raising any questions? Well, Morpheus surely was starting to ask questions. 

Jealously turned into guilt quickly like the crack of a lightning bolt. Has he not been a good husband? Was she getting bored of their marriage? It has been several centuries, after all. Guilt turned into sadness as the questions he asked started bringing down his spirit. Surely there is something he can do to make her happy again. Surely she is faithful, surely, surely, surely…

Morpheus stands still, the drive to find his wife lost. The hedge leaves shiver as the temperature grows colder from the king’s mood. The lovely sunset leaves the last of its warmth before disappearing, leaving the sky full of stars. He turns around and retraces his steps, if his wife does not want to be found, he will grant her this wish. 

Morpheus would never admit to anyone that he mopes. But with his sluggish walk and downturned lips, he clearly was. He sees his wife had made it out of the labyrinth quite some time ago and is already waving her guests goodbye, Phanes nowhere in sight. When she sees him emerging from the hedges, she perks up and excuses herself from her conversation. 

“Dear husband, where did you run off to? Too many people in your presence?” She jokes, latching herself onto his arm. 

“I was merely looking for you,” Morpheous murmurs. He starts walking with her back to the castle. 

He waits as his wife takes a pause, slowing down in step. “You followed me into the labyrinths?” 

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting her to say, but it certainly wasn’t that. 

“Yes…” He draws out, trying to tread lightly, hoping that she would open up without much prompting. “I saw you and Phanes entering together.”

An amused huff escapes her. “I see.”

The silence lingers like the plague: uncomfortable and heavy in the air. 

“Will you not speak as to why?” He questions and he almost hates how desperate he sounds. 

The lady takes a seat on his throne, only to lean down and take off her shoes with a satisfied sigh. She rubs the ankles of her foot when she speaks again. “I believe it to be a personal matter.”

The answer was vague, and Morpheous hated it. Angry, gray storm clouds formed overhead and the ice-cold rain started to hit the stained glass behind her. 

“Am I not worth sharing with?” He asks again, but he doesn’t stop to let her answer. With her eyes wide in surprise, he continues. “Am I not good enough? Faithful enough? Am I not devoted enough to you, my love? Will you command me to beg on my knees, I shall if you so ask.”

He falls to his knees before her and runs his hands from her ankle to her knee, slowly, deliberately. His lips follow soon after, tracing the same path his fingers had. Her breath hitches and her hearts start beating faster. 

“How can I show my devotion to you, my love?” He kisses. 

“My wife?” He kisses again. 

“My forever goddess?” And again. 

“Morpheus,” She breathes out, and it’s all he ever wants to hear. She is all he ever wants to breathe and all he wants to taste. 

“I pray to Daleena, Goddess of Husbandry, for forgiveness. I have left my wife unsatisfied and feel the crop of our love withered. I shall repent for my sins by your guidance.” Morpheus says in a hushed tone as he slowly inches higher on her leg. 

The goddess feels power surge through her as the prayer leaves her husband's lips, and she craves the touch of them on her own. Heat pools between her legs as her husband’s breath fans across her lower regions. Her dress slits exposed her legs deliciously to Morpheous but there were still her undergarments, which he removed slowly, keeping contact with her silky skin as it slid down. 

Her Lady looks down at him with uneven breaths and waits for him to give her what she wants. Morpheus, however, is patient. He traces his lips higher, he kisses all the spots she wants, but not where she needs it the most. 

“Morpheus,” She pleads, and it is all he needs. One moment it is the cold air of the Dreaming and the next it is the warmth of his lips, tongue languishing the length of her slit. 

She jerks in place, strong hands holding down her hips. Her own hands shoot out, desperate to grab onto anything. One, bear-clawed and desperate, on the arm of the throne and the other weaving itself into the silky strands of her husband. She gasps at the wet sensation and her head is thrown back in pleasure. 

The Endless is unmovable, driven solely by the purpose of satisfying his wife. A low groan emits from deep in his throat at the unapologetic sounds she cries, babbling in a series of his name and other obscenities. He tilts his head higher until he finds her clit and relishes in the pain of her nails in his hair, lapping at her arousal with contentment until it drips down his chin. He is a starved man and she is his salvation. 

Morpheus continues his demonstrations, alternating between her clit and her needy cunt. She clenches her thighs hard as she feels the impending rise of her orgasm. Her fingertips buzz with excitement as he continues to ravish her sensitive clit. His pace continues, and her eyes roll to the back of her head. 

She calls out his name again, and a high-pitched whine leaves her lips as he easily adds two digits into her weeping hole. He moves them slowly, slightly curved to touch that delicious spot inside her that has her arching her back taught like a bow. From below, Morpheus looks at her through his lashes, and he can’t help the smirk that tugs on his lips as his wife tries to thrash from the sensations. She tightens around him, cunt pulsing sporadically, and he is flooded with her orgasm where he drinks greedily from the taste - sweet like a plentiful summer wine. 

He places a final gentle kiss on her clit before looking at her again, the skin of her extremities glowing ethereally as she tries to control her ragged breaths. She is still in the midst of her orgasm, trying to calm herself from the high and he finds it the perfect time to leave a bruising hickey on the inside of her plush thighs. Morpheus gets up, dick painfully hard as it brushes against his pants. He takes hold of her hands to help her stand on wobbly legs and leans back. 

He leans until he falls, through the throne room floor and then onto the plushness of their shared bed. His command dematerializes both of their clothes and he basks in the sticky warmth of his wife on top of him. He runs light fingers down her spine, shivers following behind like a loyal companion, whispering sweet nothings into her ears.

“Come back to me,” He murmurs, kissing her sweat-filled brow. 

“Hmm,” The goddess exhales after a few more seconds of silence, eyes opening languishingly, lashes tickling the skin of her husband. 

She looks around the dimly lit room for a moment before realizing that she is in their bed. Using her husband’s chest, she props herself up, effectively straddling him beneath her. Morpheus remains unmoving, ignoring the way his tip brushes against her lower lips, only messaging the meat of her hips with his thumb. 

When she meets his eyes again, he speaks. “Have I proven myself, dear wife?”

It takes a moment for the goddess to remember what he was talking about and her feelings crash down again. “You had never needed to prove yourself to me, Morpheus. What happened between me and Phanes will remain between me and Phanes.” 

She lifts herself on sore thighs, but can’t get far as gentle hands turn rough. The next moment, she is lying down with her husband looming over her. There was not enough light to illuminate his face, leaving only the impression of his merciless, mercury eyes. Deep down, she knows no harm will ever befall her, but in this moment, something primal presents itself.

Perhaps it is how his eyes bore into her very soul, to the very moment she was born several millennia ago. Or perhaps, she was just crazy about how his touch was driving her mad. She was very aware of the appendage that settled between the two of them and the way that her slick was coating it. His hands cup her cheek and slide down her neck and her head tilts back at the ticklish and yet pleasurable sensation. She swallows thickly and a broken sigh escapes her as his hand ghosts over her nipple.

Shivers bloom once more as his mouth incloses over the perk nipple, suckling at it in a way that has her legs wrapping around his waist. Her arms come up and snake over his shoulders, fingers gliding over the smooth marble-like skin, then resting behind his neck. One of her hands finds itself back into his hair, clenching as he gives continuous pleasure to her body. 

Her hips buck up, her pussy clenching down on nothing. Cold fingers glide down the center of her stomach, going lower and lower until they cup her heat. A thumb gently circles her clit, understanding the overstimulation it recently received. They trace over her outer lips, downwards, then upwards again, coating themselves with a mixture of spit and arousal. 

Morpheus removes himself from her breasts and presses his lips at the junction between her neck and shoulder. He licks at the sweat that accumulates on her collarbone and continues up her neck. When he faces her again, he speaks. 

“Beg for it.” He commands. 

Her Lady remains silent, slowly chewing on the inside of her lip, weighing the options in her head. Morpheus, as always, is patient and he continues running his fingers between her folds, keeping his pace but occasionally rubbing his pointer finger in circles around her clit. When she realizes that he really would just keep rubbing her and nothing else, she opens her mouth. 

“P-please,” She stutters, the mere idea of begging or pleading foreign on her tongue. As a goddess, one would never allow such lowly behavior. Nevertheless how her husband will give her whatever she asks for. 

Morpheus hums in approval, removing his hand to hold his dick instead. He rubs it this time in lieu of his fingers around her cunt and the goddess almost begs again. Before she can, a moan releases from both of them as he inserts himself into her and she whimpers at the familiar dull ache of being stretched out. Morpheus dips his head between her neck and shoulder again and remains stiff, feeling the warmth that only his wife can provide. 

He pulls out and she mews beneath him in pleasure, ushering him to fill her up once again. Her cunt sucks him back and he wraps one of his arms underneath her waist to ground him. The other slams against the headboard of the bed, and he grabs on for all he is worth. His thrusts grow harder as her cries grow louder and he feels the way she clenches down on him.

“How divine you are, my love,” He says with a shaky breath, kissing more bruising hickeys that he hopes will last for millennia. He blows cold air over them and goosebumps rise in place, her back arching again and he can feel each perk nipple rubbing against his chest. 

She moans his name again, losing herself in each drag of his cock, screaming curses when the head brushes against her sensitive spot, and whimpering when it kisses her cervix. Morpheus rises, looking down on his wife with half-lidded eyes, running a hand down between the valley of her breasts, feeling each desperate breath of air. He goes lower and groans when he sees how the two of them are connected.

Each thrust creates an unholy, slick noise and he can see the inflamed clit begging for attention. He presses his fingers on her lower stomach and she cries out for him. 

“Can you feel me, my Queen?” He growls down at her, feeling the way his dick moves within her. 

“Yes!” She cries back, her brows furrow and her cunt pulses around him, gripping him like a vice. 

“Do you love me, my Queen?” He asks again.

“Yes!” She cries again. She starts begging again. Please, please, please, please. “Don’t stop, please my King. Please, don’t stop!”

“Will you tell me why you spoke with Phanes?” His last question. 

Her eyes snap open, all the build up from her orgasm lost in the question. With her legs still around his waist, she twists her hips and topples Morpheus over until he is beneath her again. 

“No,” She whispers, rocking her hips back and forth to regain the momentum they had lost. 

This time, it is him who pleads. “Please,” He whispers back. His hands cup at the roundness of her ass cheeks, loving how soft they were. 

She increases the ferocity of her grinds, looking down at her husband like he had just done with her. His head tosses back and she loves watching his Adam’s apple slide up and down his throat as he moans for her. His eyes are squeezed shut and his grip tightens but she doesn’t relent.

That familiar searing hot feeling appears again in her lower stomach and with one final grind she releases her orgasm all over him, falling onto his heaving chest. Morpheus cums right after, shooting his release into her in hot loads and she feels each jolt inside of her. 

Her orgasm rocks through her body, feeling both too hot and too cold at the same time. It tingles in her fingers and toes and when she closes her eyes, she sees the stars of the Dreaming shinging back at her. When she comes back to her senses (again) she can feel her husband’s hand running through her bed hair, untangling it as much as he could with the one hand. The other hand holds her waist flush with his. The two lovers share a quiet moment after their throw of passion before she speaks again. 

“Phanes and I…” She starts, and she can feel Morpheus stiffen under her. She groans as his cock is still deep in her, semi-hard and the only thing keeping them together. 

She shifts a bit and some of their combined release pool down onto his abdomen. He would never admit to her how filthy he thought it was, nor the fact that he loved it all the same. 

“Yes?” Morpheus urges, looking down at her on his chest with full attention. 

“We made a deal.” She finishes her sentence. 

Everything stops as Morpheus sits up. “What deal did you strike? I can do it instead, terminate the deal at once, my love.” He says with anxiety. 

His wife grabs onto him as she is rocked back and a smile appears on her face. “Morpheus, my love, you have done your part.” Her smile turns sad and a forlorn look cloaks her face and she casts her gaze downwards. “We just needed some extra help.”

A confused look crosses Morpheus’s face. He brings a hand to lift her chin to look at him. With the raise of an eyebrow, he doesn’t have to say anything for his wife to know he wants a better explanation. 

“I asked for a child, Morpheus.” 

When her husband remains quiet, her lips start to tug downwards and his heart lurches at the sight. Her waterline soon floods with tears. 

“We have not been able to produce an heir once.” She says, voice wavering. She dares not to blink for she is afraid if a single tear were to fall, all of them would. 

“What in return?” He asks. 

“I look after his pet snake for a weekend.” She replies simply. Morpheus has returned to his previous position. 

The tears start to fall, each fat drop hitting his skin seemingly striking him directly in the heart. “You need not worry, wife. This time it will take, with Phanes’s help or not.” He whispers into the crown of her head. 

She nods once, sniffling as her nose starts to run, too. The rhythmic breathing below her and the continued brushing of her hair rocks her to a dreamless sleep. Morpheus wraps his arms protectively around her frame and should he have known, he would’ve stayed longer. He would’ve held her tighter, kissed her longer, and promised her that he would be there when she woke. Alas, there was a missing nightmare, rampaging through the waking world, something that was his responsibility as king. 

When she wakes up the next morning, with a satisfying ache throughout her body, the bed was cold and empty, and her husband was nowhere to be seen. To say that this was new behavior would be a lie, unfortunately. The number of times that a night of passionate love-making ended in a cold and lonely morning was more than she could count on her fingers and toes. That isn’t to say that Morpheus didn’t want to stay in bed with her, it’s simply a sovereign that understands his responsibilities, and she could never blame her husband for that. 

Avoiding the difficult conversation the two lovers shared last night, her Lady avoids the locations her husband is most likely to reside in. Instead, she chooses to look towards her duties in the Dreaming. She finds herself amongst a simple dream from a small farmer who looks after sheep, who struggles with getting their weight to increase during the harsh winters. Carefully, she admits herself to him, dressed in a light yellow dress, sunflowers decorating the fabric and her hair. Her hands were covered in dirt, and she held a shepherd’s crook that had a bell attached to the end. 

The farmer looks up from his rocking chair, prized sheep chewing lazily around him, and smoke from his pipe circles him. His face was rough - old and wrinkled from long days in the sun during his youth. But she smiles gently at him when his laugh lines appear around the edges of his eyes and mouth. 

She stands next to him and they stare out on his flock together. He shares his life story. The story of a young boy whose father was also a farmer, and his father before him, and his father before him. He talks about his first puppy, named Barkly, his first love, whom he lost after he was drafted into the First World War, and how he now finds solitude with his late wife’s grave and his grandchildren. 

He mentions that he needs to fatten his sheep up for the winter as he can’t lose any more stock so he may afford medicine for his sick grandson. He confesses that he has tried everything and nothing seems to have worked. He looks up at her now, tired, and slumped over, and realization dawns on his face as she smiles down at him.

She whispers at him a simple solution, one he can’t quite hear over the muddle of a dream. He stands abruptly as her figure distorts, the dawn is rising and a farmer’s body rises with it. He thanks her - he offers a sheep for her, which she nods at before he wakes from his dream. 

The goddess visits a few more dreams, each giving her ethereal presence. Some were like the one she was just at, some needed comfort from the loss of animals, and some dreamed of a new pet to have. By the 5th dream, she realizes that several days had passed in the waking world, and her husband was nowhere to be found. 

She admits to herself that she had been avoiding him longer than she intends, but perhaps it was time to face him again. She teleports to the castle, summoning herself before the drawbridge of the magnificent building. The ivory dragon perks up at her arrival, but otherwise pays no attention to her, going back to hoarding its gold coins, a few of them falling when she crosses the large doors. 

As always, the castle is slightly colder than what she likes. A small sense of deja vu encapsulates her as she walks to the all-familiar throne room. This time, however, it was empty. No figure on the throne, nor the stairs as he sometimes preferrs it. Odd, she thinks, but not impossible. So she turns a corner to the library, she often finds him here as well, looking over the books of his dreamers. She searches high and low, through each aisle and reading spot, but still nothing. Anxiety and thoughts of doubt begin to fill her. Perhaps she did mess up, making that deal with Phanes.

Her last stop was Cain and Able’s homes. She finds the two brothers in front of their own homes, tending to their garden and playing with the gargoyle that Morpheus had given them. The two were of no help as they were unable to answer something worthy of even a hint of where her husband was. 

She rolls her eyes as the walk away from their homes was accompanied by the sound of a scream and the resolute bang of a metal shovel hitting a skull. 

As her last resort, she calls for Lucienne. Often, she hopes to never bother her, understanding that the work she puts into maintaining the Dreaming is never-ending. And, she knew that if she were to ask something of her, Lucienne would stop everything to help her. 

“His Lord left several nights ago to fetch the Corinthian,” She spoke, pushing up her round glasses. 

“And since then?” She questions, her hands wringing with themselves. She hopes for an answer she knows she won’t get.

Lucienne shakes her head no. “My Lady, Jessamy hasn’t returned either. Perhaps his Lord is simply taking longer than usual.” 

“Let us hope,” She says defeated. 

For the next few months, the goddess stays within the Dreaming. Each day that passes, more hope was lost for her husband's return. Doubt and anxiety cloud her mind at the uncertain future.

She looks down at her stomach, a distinguishable bump had made its appearance and she rubs it gently with her hand. The deal with Phanes went through, she is with child. She should be happy right? Except for the obvious fact that Morpheus still had not returned. 

Her cat lounges at her feet where she sits and she pets its head. With a trill, it looks at her, similar mercury eyes of her husband stares back. She had no choice but to find him herself. 

“Go,” She asks of it. “Go to the waking world, find Morpheus.”

The cat sits up and stretches, hind high in the air. Its claws grips into the plush carpet it rests on. With another stretch to its lower back, it trots off, the jingling sounds of its bell disappearing as it crosses over to the waking world. 

All the goddess could do was wait and hope. She runs another anxious hand across her stomach and a tear escapes her. 

Lucienne had mentioned it to her in passing a few days ago. The librarian stated that it probably was nothing to worry about, but the conversation had stuck with the goddess since. 

The Dreaming is dying. 

As much as the Dreaming is hers through marriage, it is suffering without its true ruler in the realm. She could see it in the dying leaves and small cracks of the castle. The ivory dragon that rests above the castle has gotten more restless in the past few weeks. And despite her best efforts to comfort the animal, the dragon did not listen to the Goddess of Husbandry. 

This brings up a second concern of hers. The child she carries is as much a part of her as it is the Dreaming’s. It embodies a part of the Dream Lord and if the Dreaming is suffering, there stands to reason that her husband is suffering as well. If both of these entities are suffering, what is to happen to her child?

This child that she already loves until she is forgotten and nothing but stardust and she had been asking for centuries. This child that Morpheus is finally ready to love after the untimely death of his son. She must find Morpheus, and soon. 

For the sake of the Dreaming and her child. 

Several more weeks pass and her cat had yet to come back. She only hopes that it was due to the difficulty of finding an Endless and not because it got distracted with a family whose heart was big enough to take in a “stray” cat. Each day that passes, she grows significantly weaker. The prayers of her followers still ring in her ears, but she could not leave the Dreaming to help her devotees. 

Another war broke out among the humans, the one they call World War II. Less and fewer people were crossing over into the dreaming and slowly, the once beautiful realm was losing its colors. The goddess couldn’t stop the residents of the realm from leaving its gates, the Dreaming was no longer a place they wished to stay. Furthermore, there weren’t enough dreamers for them to bother staying. She only remains thankful for those who decided to stay. 

She sits on Morpheus’ throne, the castle colder than ever. Behind her, the once beautiful stained glass had shattered. The Corinthian had still not been captured, or else her husband would have been home and Fiddler’s Green had decided to leave. She runs a hand through her hair at the issues that seem to keep piling up. As she ignores her prayers, her powers start to wane. Fewer and fewer people were still believing in her. 

And how could she blame them? She hasn’t made herself present in any of their prayers and with the war, people were less concerned about animals and more about themselves. She sighs. 

A sharp pain yanks her out of her thoughts and a scream rips from her throat. She doubles over from the throne and kneels, hunching over on the floor. The pain spreads across her lower abdomen and a shaking hand holds her stomach. Immediately she knew something was wrong and it involved the safety of her child. 

For a moment, she couldn’t breathe, too focused on staying conscious. The throne room was empty, her fall echoed around and bounced across the wide walls. When she thought the pain was over, she took in a large breath, inhaling shakily in gulps. 

Salvation lasts a few seconds before another wave of pain overwhelms her. It wraps around her like a hot blanket on a sweltering day, sticking to her skin and making her overstimulated. Too much was happening at once and it was almost too hard to bear. 

“Lucienne!” She screams between cramps. Tears fall in fat drops onto the floor and wets the hand propping her up. 

Lucienne appears quickly, followed closely by Mervin. Hands grab at her weak body and hoist her back onto the throne. Where she had fallen, blood pooled and more fell from between her legs. 

Her whole body shakes with shivers and a whimper leaves her. 

“My Lady,” Lucienne says with concern. The librarian couldn’t stop from staring at the growing pool of blood below her. 

“What do we do?” Mervin asks. Even though he was a glorified janitor, constructor, and destructor for the Dreaming, he didn’t know how to fix this. 

“Call for Phanes,” Their Lady said weakly. Sweat begins to appear like morning dew across her forehead. For once, she was grateful for the cool temperature. 

“Mervin, take her to his Lord’s chambers,” Lucienne instructs. She doesn’t stay to watch as she sprints to the library. 

She flips through leather-bound books, old and new until she finds the correct summoning spell she was looking for. The loyal librarian could only hope that a god would listen to a dream like her. 

She hauls the large book into the room her Lady lays in. Labored breathing came from both women, although for two vastly different reasons. 

“Forgive me, my lady, but I require your assistance,” Lucienne said next to the goddess’ bed. 

The goddess gives her a hand limply and Lucienne starts chanting the words on the page while holding her cold fingers. The wind whirls around them and Mervin holds onto his pumpkin head to not have it knocked off. 

Lucienne finishes the spell and looks down. Her Lady was glowing with power but she could not have looked any more weak. Nothing happens for a few bated breaths, only the sound of howling wind around them. Then nothing, not even the sound of crickets could be heard. 

Enters Phanes, golden and warm like the sun. He materializes in a cloud of golden dust. He slams his staff down, and his golden snake slithers up from under his robes. 

“Who dares summon m-” 

“Lord Phanes,” Lucienne interrupts, something she knows she would be punished for, if not for the more important matter at hand. 

A glare is thrown her way and softens at the familiar face. Phanes’ eyes travel across the intertwined fingers and land on his friend. 

Weak eyes open and meet his. The godly figure is almost too much to stare directly at. 

As if understanding what was happening to his friend, he drops the golden light he had been shining. The Dreaming returns to its cold blue, and it was just two deities and two dreams in understanding. 

“A new deal,” Phanes announces and the goddess wants to weep again. Judging by how her husband acted the last time she had done this, she was going to be doomed. But the decision was easily made. 

“Anything,” she whispers. Her eyelids are starting to feel heavy. She had delivered countless calves, kittens, and cubs, but never another deity. Was she supposed to feel this weak? 

Silky scales slide across her feverish skin and she is face to face with Phanes’ serpent.

“Give your child to him, he will keep them safe until they may come to fruition. Until then, you must look after the serpent as if it is of your blood.”

The goddess could barely pay attention but understood in a way without words. She nods in agreement and the relief begins almost immediately. 

Pain seeps out of her body, slow, like molasses and her body starts to glow again. Lucienne shields her eyes and peeks through her fingers. The goddess’ stomach glows and deflates. 

A small glowing ball releases itself from the warmth of her womb, its dim light is warm and lights the room like a lantern on a foggy night. A weak hand cups it and it sits in the palm of its mother. 

“Hello, darling son,” She whispers. The ball stays still, a small high-pitched noise emitting from itself.

The goddess smiles. “Darling daughter, then?” This time, the ball bounces gently a few times in response but otherwise doesn’t do anything. 

The golden serpent is slowly making its way up the arm that holds the glowing orb. A tongue flicks out and smells it. Then with a nod from the goddess, the serpent unhinges its mouth and swallows the child whole. The light shines through the crevices of its eyes and ears as it makes its way down the serpent's throat. Eventually, the light dissipates and the serpent looks all the same, save for the bulge in its stomach. 

A sense of longing borrows itself into her chest where her heart lies. Quite literally, the light disappears right in front of her. Physically, her pain had been removed, only the dried blood between her legs reminded her of what had happened just moments prior. And yet, a dull pain resides. Something she couldn’t put her finger on, but she could feel it behind her eyes and how it lodges in her throat. 

Her gaze is unfocused as she pets the golden snake, her golden snake now, her child. For the rest of the night, she rests and Phanes leaves without a word. Lucienne stays by her side the whole time, eyes only moving when the serpent shifts. Mervin went back to work after a few hours, the castle’s foundation still cracking under their feet. He left with a sorrowful look, well, as sorrowful as a pumpkin head could be. 

As the sun rises the next day, the goddess wakes up to not only the snake by her side but the librarian and her long awaited cat. Lucienne wakes up at the first shift that her Lady makes and stands. 

“Let me draw you a bath,” She said before any debate. 

“Lucienne,” Her Lady calls after her anyway in rejection. All of her handmaidens had left. They were only there to help the goddess under the instruction of the Dream Lord who created them. Without him here, no one would punish them for leaving and not attending his wife. 

Still, the librarian doesn’t listen and disappears into the joined bathroom. Meanwhile, the goddess looks down at her cat and raises an eyebrow. It has certainly gotten fatter. And a new name tag was attached to his collar next to his bell. 

“Buttons,” She said out loud, reading the new name. At that, the cat perks up and stares back at her disappointed face. “You got distracted on your mission didn’t you?”

She pets his rounder stomach and scratches his head. “Well, they certainly loved you…” The hidden passive-aggressive message was evident. 

The cat, now Buttons, doesn’t bother with a response. Instead, it lays back down, flicking its tail aggressively at her comment. 

She rolls her eyes. “Did you locate his Lord?”

Buttons rolls onto his back and stretches, belly exposing to her, and opens his mouth in a yawn. “Burgess Manor,” He says and turns his body away from her. 

Finally, an answer. She throws the blanket off her body and goes to stand. She looks at her closet, thinking of what to wear to the waking world to retrieve her husband. 

“My Lady!” Lucienne exclaims as she walks out of the bathroom. The goddess looks over at her and notices her staring at her dress. She looks down as well and remembers all of the blood that she spilled last night. It had caked itself into the fabric and was still crusted on the inside of her legs. 

The librarian’s shock was still on her face when she realizes that her Lady fully intends to go to the waking world looking like that, having overheard the conversation between her and the cat. Lucienne insists she take a bath first and that she would find something for her to wear. 

Her Lady doesn’t disagree and disappears into the steaming bathtub that was made for her. She doesn’t regret it for a second the moment she steps in. The warmth was comforting like a mother huddling to keep its cub warm. The water washes away the filths of yesterday and within the embrace of the water, she finally cries. 

It’s not a gentle cry, it is hiccups and gasping for breath. The pain of yesterday that she felt behind her eyes and in her throat spills out. Her bathwater which used to smell of apples and cinnamon now turns into a maroon as her blood washes out. It starts to smell of iron and salt and it reminds her of war. 

Her hand runs over her stomach and a whimper leaves her again at the lack of the bump she had grown so accustomed to. Logically, she knows that her child, no her daughter, was safe. But, one would have to admit that having their daughter in the stomach of a serpent was a bit unnerving. 

A golden head peaks at her over the side of the ceramic bathtub and flicks out its tongue. 

She sniffs the last of her tears away and pets its head with her index finger. “I’m sorry for leaving you already, dear daughter.” 

The serpent’s stomach had grown twice as large since last night and since this is new territory for her, she must make haste so she may be back in the dream to witness the birth of her daughter. 

Before she left, though, she walks into the castle gardens and gets to work. From her fingertips she grows a birch tree, its white branches and muted green leaves fit right into the dying realm around them. She sprouts flowers and brushes for scenery and a bed made of straw under a tunnel that she dug out. 

The golden serpent follows her and slithers up her body, wrapping around her curves. When its head was next to hers, it let out a rattling-like noise in agreement with the small open enclosure the goddess had made for it. It slides back down her body and makes it home in the tunnel. 

“Mommy will be back,” She whispers to it when it settles in and gives it a quick peck on the top of its head. It flicks its tongue at her and moves further into its nest. 

The goddess stands back up and dusts off any dirt that could have gotten on her dress. Lucienne helps her pick out an appropriate attire for the waking world. Something she wouldn’t personally wear, but it certainly helps to blend in with the mortals. She quickly had to locate her husband. After all, she has no idea how long it takes for a snake to incubate a child. 

It was easy to find the Burgess Manor when she arrives in the waking world. Everyone who was anyone spoke about the grand magus who managed to capture the devil in his basement. That the devil had granted him eternal life and some other rumors. All she had to do was flaunt a smile and go where the fingers pointed. 

The rumors, of course, were mere rumors. The devil? No. Without knowing it, Rodrick Burgess managed to capture something even more powerful. How he had managed to keep him captured was a different question entirely and the goddess had a sneaking suspicion that he had some help. 

It was nightfall when she arrives at the gates of the manor. Thousands of people clamor in the front garden, talking amongst themselves. Suddenly, the clothing she had worn was not fit for the environment she was walking into. Using a little bit of her powers, she changes the outlook of her clothing into something else. It was a bit more formal, growing longer and softer to the touch. However, if someone were to squint and stare hard enough, they would be able to see the original dress she had worn. 

She weaves her way to the front and listens carefully to the words around her.

“I had arrived this morning, my feet are killing me.”

“Ha, me as well. But anything to get into the manor. I want to see what the Great Magus is hiding.”

“Not to mention the party of your lifetime!” They joke together. 

Someone taps her on her shoulder. Another young man was waiting to be let in. 

“You are a new face,” He comments and takes her hand. He presses his lips to the back of it. She takes her hand back and wipes it away on the back of her dress while keeping a smile.

“Yes, I wish to see the Great Magus himself.” She half-lies through her teeth. The young gentleman offers an arm to her which she reluctantly takes. Perhaps he will be the key to getting into the manor. 

The doors of the manor open and people slowly trickle in. She peers over shoulders into the manor but couldn’t immediately find anything of note that would be dangerous. The warmth of the building fans over her as she enters through the large doors and a breath of relief escapes her. 

“Isn’t it everything you could ever dream of?” The gentleman asks. He looks down at her with a smile. 

She looks around, the manor was certainly lively. Foods of all kinds sprawl out on tables, fresh flowers almost too sweet to smell, and candlelight flickers and dances from the sudden wind. There were some party tricks as well, the flames seem to sparkle a bit more, bubbles were floating around in the air without popping, and the statues follows her with their eyes. But, they were all small party tricks, nothing to indicate this holier-than-thou man. 

Through the buzz of it all, she could feel it. The string of fate that connects her to her husband. It was faint, but it was there and she knew she was in the right place. She just had to find out where. 

A man emerges on the top of the stairs to the second floor and opens his arms in a flourish. She frowns at him because there he was, Rodrick Burgess, the man who took her husband. By the end of tonight, she promises herself, there will be no Rodrick Burgess. 

“Ow, dang you’ve got a grip on you,” She breaks eye contact with Rodrick when her escort for the evening exclaims out. She releases the iron grip she had wrapped around his lower arm and apologizes. 

“I am terribly sorry,” She apologizes. “Actually, I am parched, can you be a gentleman and fetch me some lemonade?” She bats her eyelashes and gives a smile. His face lights up in a blush and runs off to fetch her the lemonade she wants. 

As soon as he was out of eyesight, the goddess began moving. She moves between bodies like wind on the beachfront - gracefully, wistfully, but with purpose. She uses her senses to locate where her husband could be. It was like an invisible dance. 

When the sense weakens she backtracks, when it strengthens she moves forward. She was so lost in her quest that she almost did not register when she ran into a wool-covered chest. Surprise overtook her face as she looks up, ready to apologize and continue on her way. But she stops when she realizes that the man she bumps into is the very host of the party. 

“Rodrick Burgess,” She says almost breathlessly. Oh, how she wants to commit a grievous crime to this mortal. 

The old man chuckles above her and grabs onto her shoulders. His fingers are cold when they come into contact with her bare skin and she wants to cringe away from his touch, but he holds on strong. 

“You seem like a curious creature, my little dove,” He comments and starts to walk. Without much room to budge, she is reluctant to follow him.

“Yes,” She drawls out much like how Morpheus tends to do. She suddenly acts with interest when she realizes that the bond strength between her and her husband increases. She holds on tighter and presses her body against his arm.

“I heard that the great Magus kept the devil in the basement of his manor. Can we see it?” She fakes a supple voice and looks up at him with an innocent smile.

“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think a small thing such as yourself would want to see the devil.”

“No!” She belts out, a bit too quickly. But she recovers smoothly. “What I mean to say is, I am far too excited to see him. Please don’t deny me this one pleasure Great Magus.”

“How loathsome,” She thinks to herself. 

“Very well, I can’t deny you anything if you keep looking at me like that.” He confirms. 

Rodrick Burgess leads her away from the party, down a long and quiet hallway. It is decorated with antique and rare collectibles. The older man talks about each one, dragging on his time that leads to her husband, but she nods along anyway. 

She had waited decades to be in the arms of her husband again, a few more minutes surely wouldn’t hurt. Soon, she is led to a dark and demanding set of double doors. Locks and bolts seal it from top to bottom. With a nod of Rodrick’s head, the guards stationed outside open the door slowly and a cold air seeps out and blows her hair back. The basement smells musty of old water and stale air. A cough emits from further down the stairs and she frowns. 

“Scared yet, child?” Rodrick says to her mockingly. 

She only shakes her head no as she continues down the steps. 

The smell grows stronger as she gets closer and she can also make out a small portion of dirt and sand amidst it all. Despite it, the air was crisp and cold, suitable for a stone basement. 

A light emits from the end of the long staircase downwards and she can’t stop her jaw unhinging as she finally sets her eyes on her husband. Tears well up in her eyes as they dart across the room.

Arches supported the basement throughout the floor and a moat still separates between her and her husband. A singular fluorescent light is cast on him in a glass prison as if he were some circus animal on display. Below the glass prison were some sort of gold runic markings and even from far away, she could feel the real magic emitting from them. 

Rodrick releases her hold on him and turns to the two guards on duty that night. “You two may go,” He instructs, and the two leave without debate.

At the sound of his voice, Dream opens his eyes but remains in his laid position. His gaze pierces into his corrupt heart, if he even had one left, but quickly notices his wife by his side. With this, he sits up and gently places a hand on the glass barrier. 

“Would you look at that!” Rodrick boasts. “He moves, he doesn’t do that much. Perhaps he has feelings for a pretty thing like you.” 

The goddess doesn’t hear him and walks up to the glass cage in a trance. How does she free him? Tears fall restlessly down her face and her stature dejects. She snaps out of her trances on the small bridge above the stagnant water when a rough hand squeezes her upper arms. 

“Stop, you must not get any closer. He is trying to seduce you into releasing him!” Rodrick hashes out between gritted teeth. 

She opens her mouth to tell him something, anything, to release her husband but stops when she hears Dream’s voice again. 

“Wife,” He calls simply and her body fills with all of the love and adoration she had been missing for decades. 

Rodrick’s grip tightens at his voice, the first time he remembers hearing it. With a shocked face, he looks down at the woman in his grip. “Wife?!” He screams at her furiously. 

She takes a deep breath and steels herself, ripping herself away from his bruising grip, and stands between him and her husband. The tears had dried and only anger left in its wake. 

“The one before you is Daleena, Goddess of Husbandry, Mother of Agriculture and Protector of Animals, Saint of Farmers, Queen of the Dreaming, wife of Dream of the Endless. You face me now, mortal.” 

Wind swirls, somehow, in the basement but it is the least of Rodrick’s worries. He plants himself firmly as the wind picks up and sand envelops the two of them in a vortex of anger. 

“I have captured something more than a god! I have an Endless!” He points a finger at her, eyes scrutinizing. “What makes you think you can defeat me? The Great Magus Rodrick Burgess?” 

Walking a few steps forward, her shepherd’s crook materializes in her hand, the bell jingling violently in the wind. Her extremities start to glow their familiar light as she musters power. She points the staff at Rodrick as billets of wheat start growing around his feet and crawl up his legs, the nice wool of his pants long forgotten against the harsh stalks of the plants. The plants bloom as it sucks the life away from the very thing they grew on. 

Rodrick starts chanting in Greek. 

“Prostasía,” He chokes out. “Prostasía.” He chants again and he breathes easier. “Prostasía.” He chants one more time and he’s back to standing at his full height. The plants that were wrapped around him wither away and fell into dust, sucked into the sand vortex around them. 

The goddess frowns, she did not realize how much power she had lost until now when a simple protection chant could stave off her attacks. Rodrick lunges at her, hands open and clawed, ready to grab onto any piece of her clothing. In turn, she slams her crook into the ground and a fissure opens up, but not before he can shove her further and her body slams into the wall of the glass prison. The fissure separates the two opponents away from each other and Rodrick steps back before he falls into the Earth. 

She braces herself on the glass wall at the impact and loses her breath for a moment. She could feel the warmth of her husband’s hand and she turns away from Rodrick to look at him. His hand was aligned with her own, so close, only inches apart. 

“The runes, my love,” Morpheus tells her. She looks down at looks at the graphics that surround them, the sand had erased some of it through the abrasive nature of itself. The magic within the runes would still be strong if not for the defiant smudge she creates with her foot, just in time for the fissure to finish opening. With a final look at her husband, she walks closer to the fissure, pulling the sand vortex smaller so it was just her and Rodrick again. 

From the fissure glows a golden light, soft and merciful but quickly overshadowed by the growing dust. The light expands as the golden serpent which holds her daughter emerges. It had grown in size since the last time she had seen it. Its length and mass have nearly tripled in size and the baby bulge it used to flaunt was now merely a small bump. 

Rodrick’s stare grows higher and higher as the snake continues to emerge, it stares at the man, tongue flicking angrily at him for daring to harm the goddess. The snake lunges, all fangs and dripping venom, its large scales clattering against each other like gold coins. Rodrick moves to the side and the serpent misses. It hisses in retaliation and comes around again, this time wrapping its body around the legs of the Great Magus. 

Panic sets in as the serpent starts to constrict around the man and he can feel his pulse pounding against his head and the blood circulation gets cut off. The bones in his knees pop as they press together. 

“Father!” A young boy’s voice screams across the vortex and the goddess sees a glint of silver cross into the vortex arena. 

The serpent is halfway up Rodrick’s body when the goddess notices the sharp dagger that Rodrick now possesses. He rises it high in the air and with a large gasp plunges it into the flesh of the serpent. The golden scales provide little to no protection against the artifact. 

“No!” She screams and takes a step forward, only to be stopped by the protective tail of the serpent. 

The metal hisses as it melts against the golden scales, melting the scales together until they become smooth around the wound. Rodrick slides again and again until the weapon becomes too slippery with blood and he loses grip. The snake is now a mosaic of gold and red as it tightens one last time. 

“Curse… you…” Rodrick strains out, his face turning purple as the last bit of air leaves him. The serpent weakens and falls in a slump like an inanimate rope and the sand around them falls like rain. 

The goddess leaps over the fissure and after making sure the man is dead runs to the head of the golden serpent. Its eyes were dim, mouth agape as its muscles weakens and she can no longer feel it breathing on her skin when she places a hand above its nostrils. 

“No, no no,” She mumbles to herself. She grabs her dress up and away from her feet as she makes her way down the length of the serpent. When she reaches where she last saw the small baby bump, she runs her hand along its underside, soon becoming slick with cooling blood. 

She finds a particular cut that was deeper than normal and when she sticks her hand in there, they grab around a small appendage. A cry of relief leaves her lips as she digs deeper. She pulls her baby from the dying body and cradles it to her body. Golden scale imprints are decorated across her arms and legs and a few more along the spine of her back.

Her breath hiccups as silence fills the air. She pats her daughter’s back and wipes her mouth clean and panic seeps into her bones when still she remains quiet. 

Morpheus appears behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. She turns to him, tears streaking down her neck. 

“Crying, why-why isn’t she crying?!” She wails and clutches her child harder against her chest. 

Morpheus hugs her from behind and holds the two of them to his chest. 

“Y/N,” He calls her name, her real name. Not her titles, or what the mortals call her, but the name given to her since her creation. 

She weeps into his form, salty tears mixing with blood and the amniotic fluid that covers her child. Her tears fall into her daughter’s mouth and feed into the child her grief, regret, and guilt as well as the hope she still had in her. 

A soothing hand pets her and the silence disappears. Loud wailing comes from below and her eyes shoot open. Her daughter was finally crying, her hands in fists as they move around in the air. 

“Praises,” She sobs again, this time tears of joy. Her child's eyes peel open and smiles as she grabs at her mother’s hair. 

Morpheus smiles, a rare one, all teeth showing as he touches his daughter’s head gently. The three, now a family, return home to the Dreaming. There will be more to do, especially for Morpheus but for now, a small victory lies within the hope that is their daughter. 

Extra:

“Well I’ll be baffled, bamboozled, and befuddled,” Phanes says, hands on his hip and his staff leaning against one of the walls of the basement. 

He stares at his serpent covered in dried blood and dearly departed, lying alone on the cold basement floor. 

“Look at how they massacred my boy!” He screams to no one in particular, arms out in disbelief. 

He lets out a huff and crosses his arms. “I’ll let you borrow my snake, blah, blah, blah, take care of it like it’s your own, meh, meh, meh,” He mocks.

Phanes runs a hand across the top of the snake’s head and watches as the dried blood rehydrates and moves thickly back into the cuts. The gnashes done by the weapon stitch itself back close and the gold scales return to their original form. 

The snake shrinks smaller and smaller until it is back to its original size. At which, it perks up and flicks a tongue out in thanks to its god. 

“All right, let’s go,” Phanes says with a sigh as if this was a mundane chore. He extends out a hand for the serpent to slither up to.

“I am never making a deal with those two ever again, that was crazy.” He says to his snake. 

The snake flicks its tongue again and rattles the scales on its back.

“Ohh, that’s nice that she made you an enclosure.” He responds, then remains silent as the snake says something else. “What do you mean she forgot to put mice in the enclosure for you to eat?!”

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

[sovya]

like magic

ran haitani x f!reader (with hints of rindou haitani x f!reader)

minors n ageless blogs dni

cw: inc-st, dddne, use of honorifics ("nii-chan/san"), slight manipulation (on ran's part), pet names ("princess" "little girl" "sweetheart" "sweet girl"), D/s dynamics (including having rules), infantilization, slight humiliation, praise, degradation, teasing, hand as a gag (to keep you quiet), piv (mating press), size kink, free use (if you squint)

synopsis: ran, after a long day of work, wants nothing more than to decompress with his favourite girl—but he doesn't want to share. ♡

an: if i forgot any cws, pls let me know ! also srry this is so disgusting lol

wc: 2.5k

"you make it sound so easy..." a loud huff departs from his lips, pink and slick with your saliva and his own.

your whines cut through the heavy atmosphere of your sizeable bedroom, a sound that echoes off the finely decorated walls before seeking purchase in the recesses of ran's mind.

"but i need you... don't you need me?" long eyelashes give shade to your gaze as you look up at him longingly. you can almost see him question if you're asking in good faith or if you're simply trying to rile him up. 

either way, it's working. 

"aw, c'mon princess, you know that i do... nii-chan just hates to hurt his favourite little girl, that's all."

"but 'm tough... i can take it! i've taken you before."

"no, i know... i’m only worried that if you hurt too much, you'll scream and cry and then rindou will wake up. an' if rindou wakes up, he'll want a turn with you… and we both know rindou will be much meaner to you than i am."

your eyes leave his face as you look around the darkened room, just barely visible thanks to the lights of the city. he makes a good point, even though you wish he didn't. as much as you love how rin fucks you, your sleeplacking body might break under his strength alone. your gaze returns to your eldest brother's face, giving him a dejected nod. 

"hey, don't look so sad, little girl... 'm still gonna fuck you." his form hovers over yours rather menacingly, his hands on either side of your head holding himself up.

he looks like a God like this, you think to yourself. his normally perfectly styled hair now falling around his face after his nightly shower, the dark purple strands contrasting against his rather pale skin. the tattoo along the length of his neck bobs as his Adam's apple does, as if intentionally drawing attention to itself—though maybe that was the point of getting it on his neck in the first place. your sights trail further down his body, his work shirt having been discarded hours ago, hung up for dry cleaning the next time the maids come by. despite the strain on visibility, you can make out the distinct markings of his half body tattoo, eyes following the intricate patterns the ink has weaved into his skin. he's too good to be true but he's here and he's real and he's looking at you like he wants to eat you—not whole, but to savour you instead.

"so how are you going to..." your voice trails off, words fleeing into the sound of the fan running on the other side of your room.

"fuck you?" he smirks at your hesitation to use a curse word, something him and rin have agreed is strictly unallowed—only for you though, of course. "'s okay, honey, you can say it just this once. i won't tell rin."

"how are you going to f-fuck me if you don't want me to make loud noises?"

his smirk spreads wider, like a burning wildfire across his face, one he couldn't contain even if he tried.

"i’ll be gentle, sweet. take good care of ya." he shifts his weight to his left hand, using his right to caress your cheek, his thumb smoothing out the plush skin there.

“but… what if it hurts? like you said…”

“hm…” ran starts to look around the bed before reaching for your stuffed rabbit, placing it onto your chest, “hold your bunny, okay? cry into her if you need to cry.”

an involuntary whine escapes you, your arms wrapping around the stuffed animal your brothers bought you many years prior—prior to this moment, prior to them fucking you stupid nearly every night.

reaching his hand down to the waistband of his sweats, he haphazardly pulls them down until the band rests around his muscular thighs, his cock finally springing free.

“see, baby, there you go. just hold onto your bunny an’ nii-chan will be right here, okay?”

“okay…” the utterance comes out much less confident than ran was hoping for, but he’s too hard and his day has been too long to give a fuck.

he gathers the skirt of your nightgown and pushes it further up your hips, his large hands finding their way to your bum as he lifts you slightly, allowing the garment to collect around your body, just below your belly button. he leaves your bottom half completely exposed, your cunt now in full view.

“just as pretty as the first time i saw her…” ran sighs, speaking mostly to himself.

while his left hand remains on your body, touching your side with a gentleness not unfamiliar to you, his right hand pulls back, finding its way to his aching cock. he begins to touch himself, teasingly slow, as his gaze drags up and down your body.

“nii-chan…” whining, you give him a pout and ran can’t help but laugh.

“what?”

“want touches…” your eyes begin to well up as you watch him masturbate above you, knowing that the brothers gave you a rule against touching yourself without their express permission.

“what do you say, then?”

taking in a shaky breath, your brows furrow a little more, “please?”

“please what?”

you can’t totally see his face given the darkness of the room, but you can just tell he’s got a smirk plastered across his face.

“p-please… ran-nii, will you please touch me?”

“touch you where?”

goodness, you feel like sobbing. you feel a painful lump in your throat beginning to form and you swear it’s going to weigh you down into the mattress and leave you there, crying, for an eternity.

“r-ran… please? i need you. need you t-to touch me on my… in my… my…” you struggle desperately to get the words out, wrestling with your mind to just let you say the words—those incredibly humiliating words—you need to say.

“your… what?” his hands go back to your bum, lifting you up as he goes to line himself up with your entrance. afterall, you both know he can’t have you sobbing.

“there! touch me there! please!”

ran places a hand over your mouth, trying to keep you from nearly shouting at him again. the sheer size of it engulfs your face, causing you to clench against him, and he can feel it.

he hisses out a “fuck” when he feels your pulsating cunt against the tip of his cock, the way your arousal is dripping down your slit.

ran simply cannot wait any longer. he needs to feel you wrapped around his cock. his sanity depends on it.

the hand on your face presses harder against your skin, the bones of his digits digging in as he starts to sink himself inside of you. his jaw falls slack, letting a strained groan make its way past his lips. it may be dark in your bedroom, but he can see how your eyes dart around his face in a panic, never having taken him with this little prep before. you’re scared and incredibly pliant, just how he likes you.

you draw in a shaky breath, intense and fraught, like with every inch he presses inside of you, he threatens to knock more air out of your lungs. gripping onto your plushie tighter, you feel tears beginning to pool at your lash line, his cock stretching you with a harsh sting.

“there you go sweet girl… look so pretty like this…” ran whispers as he finally bottoms out, his gaze nothing short of absolutely adoring.

you blink and a tear falls down the side of your face and onto the pillow, “i do?”

ran lets out a breathy laugh, nodding while his hips start with a relaxed pace, “yeah, princess, so fuckin’ pretty.”

smiling up at him, you manage a small giggle, “thank you, ran”

he begins to speed up, the sound of his skin slapping against yours getting louder and more frequent, “that’s not what you call me… you know that…”

starting to sob, you partially hide your face with the head of your bunny plush, “sorry nii-chan… ‘m sorry…”

clenching his jaw, ran groans through his teeth, low and needy—like a man possessed.

“there we go, good girl… that’s what i like to hear.”

his cock stretches you open, keeps you open, as it drags along the gummy walls of your cunt. the feeling is almost agonizing, despite the arousal dripping down and forming a little puddle below you. you feel an intense ache in your core, like he’s threatening to tear you open. and through all of this, you feel so ardent, so eager, so good.

feeling you tighten around him, ran draws in a sharp breath, his fingers gripping at your pillows even harder, “fuck, sweetheart… love when you do that. w-what’s it you’re thinkin’ about in that pretty little head of yours?”

you give him a drawn-out whine, all of a sudden feeling overwhelmingly shy. looking up at him, your brows furrow as you shake your head.

“no? you don’t wanna tell me?”

you can feel yourself tighten around him again, but you repeat your headshake.

“alright, that’s fine.” suddenly, ran stops his movement, causing you to gasp—and you’ve got that precious panic face back on—how cute.

“wait… no. please keep going, ran-nii. i-i’ll tell you, promise,” you do your best to talk quietly, but the possibility of ran stopping is just too much for you to bear.

“you promise?” 

his cock is still buried inside of you, and he’s just as desperate as you are to keep going, but he’s gotta tease you. what else are big brothers for?

sniffling, you nod, opening your mouth to speak, “was just thinking about how you feel…”

ran starts to roll his hips into yours again, a smug look creeping across his face anew, “how i feel?”

“yeah… h-how you’re stretching me out and…”

moving faster, bringing himself back to his previous pace, ran raises an eyebrow at you, “and what?”

“just… how big you are…”

he licks his lips and his eyes grow heavily lidded, the classic haitani stare piercing through your soul, sending the most primal feelings surging through you—feelings you can almost guarantee are rushing through him too.

“how big i am, huh?” his large frame shifts above you, ran’s hands moving off the pillows and to the undersides of your thighs, pinning your legs to your chest.

you let out a squeal and ran’s hand finds its way to your mouth once again, attempting to keep you quiet as the weight of his body keeps your thighs pressed to your torso. a muffled “mhm” leaves your lips but is cut off by your big brother’s palm, causing him to laugh. the low rumble comes from deep in his chest and you can feel his abdominal muscles tensing against the backs of your legs as he chuckles.

he’s so strong, the feel of his muscles like absolute torment to you, causing your cunt to clench around him another time.

“you’re such a naughty girl… getting off on your big brother folding you in half and fucking you like a toy.” ran growls, throwing his head back and moaning. his head comes back down just as quickly so he can look at you while he speaks again, “but that’s okay, you know that… nii-san loves his dirty little girl.”

ran moves his hand from your mouth, pressing his sweaty forehead against your own, gazing into your eyes with so much love.

i love when he does this, you think to yourself. ran can play all the mind games he wants, can be conniving and tease you until you forget where he starts and you end, but the way he looks at you when he’s close gives all of his secrets away.

“i love you s’much, ran-nii.”

before you can register what’s happening, ran’s lips meet your own, capturing you in a kiss. it’s passionate and incredibly comforting all at once, making you dizzy and sending your heart pounding. his soft lips move against yours languidly, a wide contrast to how harshly his cock slams into you.

“nii-chan wants to make you cum, baby… ‘s that okay?” ran practically moans into your mouth, but you know his question is rhetorical. you know it doesn’t matter what you want, not really. that you finishing is all a part of his fun, too.

you nod anyway, lips parted and wet with both of your saliva.

ran snakes a hand down between the two of you, the pads of his middle and ring fingers touching your clit as he begins rubbing fast, tight circles against it.

you can’t help but squeeze your plushie tighter, tears starting to well up and fall, the crystalline droplets catching what little available light peers into your room.

“you’re so beautiful…” ran still speaks against your lips, as if he’s trying to convince you to let go right there underneath him. “the best little sister a guy could ask for.”

whimpering, you dig the back of your head further into your pillow, ran’s lips having no issue following.

“p-please?” although you’re unsure of exactly what you’re begging for, ran takes the cue to keep going. his long fingers continue swiping at your clit as his cock drags against the sweet spot inside of you, your entire body shivering and your eyelashes fluttering as you struggle to maintain eye contact.

your eldest brother ruts into you like an animal, breath catching in his chest with each thrust inside of you. his lips meet yours once more as he feels you starting to spasm and clench around him, desperate to swallow your moans, keeping them all to himself.

a high-pitched mewl escapes from your throat as you finally cum around his cock, your arms and legs trembling as sobs begin to wrack through your body.

ran’s orgasm isn’t far behind yours, his movements stuttering as he wraps his arms around your back, desiring nothing more than to hold you close as he finishes deep inside of you. he looks blissed out and incredibly vulnerable, so unlike the untouchable God you’re used to viewing him as. still, you can’t see him as anything short of perfect.

as the two of you lay there, you do your best to catch your breaths, hearing the sound of ran’s heavy exhaling right next to your ear.

“you okay, princess?” ran’s the first to speak, as always. you guys could have gone for hours and he could be mere moments away from passing out, and he would still check in on you, still do all the aftercare you needed. he’s attentive and sweet like that.

“yeah, ‘m okay… are you?” your voice comes out as a whisper, moving your hands from the plushie you were holding to return ran’s embrace.

he chuckles, maneuvering his head so he’s looking at you again, the warmest smile on his face, “just peachy.”

suddenly, the tender moment is interrupted by the sound of the doorknob to your bedroom jiggling, followed by the harsh light of the hallway as it creeps open.

"aniki... i believe it's my turn now."

[yoursinisforgiven]

PURITY ──

pairing: none, ivan x reader (pet) heavily mentioned 

cw: heavily implied sexualization(?), reader is implied not to be a virgin.

you are responsible for your own media consumption

Ivan, a man of wealth, status, pride, and ridiculously priced watches (ones that he often flaunted at social gatherings) was not by any means, fit to care for a vampire.

This became quite evident the day he referred to you as “succulent”, you hadn’t responded at first; you had been playing a game of chess against yourself—you stop suddenly as you hesitate to move the pawn, brows furring gears in your brain moving with great precision. A quiet tension filled the air. The word "succulent" echoed in your mind, its implications growing darker by the second. You had learned to read between the lines of people’s words over centuries, but Ivan's careless use of the term disturbed you. Was it a simple slip of the tongue, or something more deliberate?

You looked up from the board, locking eyes with him. His smirk widened, eyes gleaming with that dangerous cocktail of arrogance and curiosity that seemed to amuse him so much. The polished surface of his wristwatch caught the light, almost mocking the current moment—this is a man who believes he’s untouchable.

"Do you find that amusing?" you asked, your voice steady but laced with a coldness that made his smile falter, just for a second.Ivan shifted uncomfortably, but only for a moment. He was quick to mask it, leaning back in his chair and letting out a low chuckle. "Oh, come now. I was only making a compliment," he said, trying to regain control of the conversation, though there was a hint of unease in his tone.

You didn’t respond right away. Instead, your fingers hovered over the chess pieces, almost lazily. The game had stopped being a diversion a long time ago. Now, it was simply a way to stall for time, to think, to decide if this was the moment you’d reveal that beneath your composed, ageless demeanor, you were anything but an object for display.

With a slow, deliberate motion, you moved the pawn forward. Checkmate, you thought to yourself. Ivan was cornered, and he didn’t even realize it yet.

──

Perhaps that’s what led to—quite hurriedly—his library. Ivan didn't believe in books. Not in the traditional sense, anyway. To him, books were just decoration, status symbols displayed like rare art pieces—shiny and impressive, but hollow. 

You glide through Ivan's library, your fingers brushing the leather spines of books, seeking something—anything—that could offer some clarity, some understanding of the word he had used, the word that had unsettled you so deeply: succulent. The word itself lingered in your mind like a poisonous vine, twisting through your thoughts, wrapping around your sense of self with its cloying implications.

It wasn’t the word itself that disturbed you—it was what it meant. The way Ivan had used it, his tone dripped with something more than just idle admiration. There had been a distinct edge to his voice, a hint of ownership, of desire, like he was appraising a prized object, something to be savored and consumed. It felt…wrong. But you needed to understand why.

The sound of your footsteps was the only thing breaking the silence of the room. Ivan had long since retreated to his study, no doubt lost in some indulgent thought of his own. It was just you now, in this temple of pretension, where books were decorations and knowledge was as shallow as the man who owned them.

You search the shelves, eyeing the leather-bound volumes—poetry, philosophy, history. None of them were quite right. Your gaze flickers to a nearby desk where a set of dictionaries lies, their pages worn from years of neglect.

You reach for the thickest one, pulling it off the shelf with the delicate care of someone handling a fragile artifact. Dust rises from the pages as you open it, the sharp scent of old paper filling the air. You run your fingers along the text, skimming the definition.

"Succulent," you read aloud under your breath, the word still unfamiliar in its true sense.

The dictionary defines it as “juicy, rich in desirable qualities, full of nourishment or flavor.” You pause, your fingers hovering above the next line. “Especially of a plant with thick, fleshy parts that store moisture.”

Flesh. Moisture. Nourishment.

You read the next part again, more slowly this time: "Succulent—desirable, ripe for consumption." The phrase “ripe for consumption” lingers in your mind like a dagger of meaning, a metaphor that feels too close to the bone.

You close the dictionary with a soft thud, the weight of the word settling into your chest.

Ivan had called you succulent, as if you were something meant to be devoured. A feast for the senses, an object of desire to be consumed with no regard for the consequences. A fruit, ripe and full, ready to be tasted. But you were no mere fruit.

The word was a reflection of what Ivan thought of you, not a compliment. You were a thing, an object to be savored, consumed. And that, more than anything, made your blood run cold.

The pull of something darker stirs inside you. A thought that has been there, lurking at the edges of your consciousness. Ivan’s ignorance—it wasn’t just irritating, it was dangerous. His lustful, naive view of you made him blind to the truth of what you were. But there was also something else—a question that surfaced now, more clearly than ever before.

it wasn't just the word, either. It was the way he looked at you. The way his eyes lingered a little too long on your skin, your lips, the way his touch was just a little too possessive when he pulled you into his presence, his scent mingling with yours, his hands pressing into your waist. He wanted you. He wanted to claim you, to taste you, to consume you. But you were more than just flesh. Were you?

You had long since stopped being just flesh, but in this moment, as the walls of Ivan’s library pressed in on you, as the idea of succulent rooted itself deeper and deeper into your mind, you couldn’t help but wonder: What if he was right? What if there was something to the way he looked at you? Was there something beautiful about that desire? Something pure in his want for you?

No. No.

You had crossed that line too long ago. You had tasted too many lives, drained too many bodies, felt the lives slip through your fingers like sand. Purity was a lie. You were not a child anymore, not a virgin to the world.

But still, the obsession clawed at you. If you were a succulent, would that make you worthy of being desired? Would it absolve you of the endless sins that weighed on your conscience, the deaths you had caused, the lives you had stolen? Could you regain something of yourself, even just a shadow of it, by being the object of someone else’s obsession?

You remember the stories—the parables—the teachings you had once known. The sacrificial lamb, pure and blameless, offered up for the sins of the world. A symbol of innocence. A symbol of purity. You had once been that lamb.

But now?

Now you were something else entirely.

The image of the lamb bleeds into your thoughts—an offering to a god, pure, perfect, without fault. Was that the standard you had once hoped to live by? Was purity so simple that it could be found in a single act of faith, a single sacrifice? The idea was as absurd as it was seductive. You were no longer that innocent being, so untouched by the world. You had tasted the fruit—had bitten into the forbidden apple long ago—and now there was no return. No repentance that could undo the mark of sin. Your very existence was stained with it.

You know the answer. There is no salvation for you. You are not the lamb, nor the sacrifice. You are the sinner, the predator, the fallen one who no longer believes in redemption.

But still, the whisper of purity tugs at you. It’s not Ivan that you desire, not his eyes lingering on you like an object to be consumed. No, it’s something more, something deeper—the hope that maybe, just maybe, you could escape this, escape the darkness that you’ve inhabited for so long.

You’ve lived centuries like this, a creature of the night, a being who has feasted on the lives of the innocent, who has drowned in the blood of those who did not deserve it. You were once pure, yes—but you were also once alive. Now, all that remains is hunger and regret.

You close your eyes for a moment, allowing the silence of the library to envelope you, to drown out the noise of your thoughts. For a single, fleeting second, you almost believe that there could be light again. The faintest trace of something untouched, something that could still be saved.

But that’s a lie, isn’t it?

The image of the sacrificial lamb returns, but now you see it for what it is: a creature of innocence offered up to a greater power—consumed, devoured, destroyed in the name of something greater. There’s something strangely familiar in that image. It’s you, isn’t it? You are the offering, the one who has already been devoured by time, by sin, by the hunger that gnaws at you.

The library is silent. The books are still. And for a moment, the world outside doesn’t exist. There is only you, alone with your thoughts and your hunger.

You leave the dictionary on the desk, untouched, its weight no longer important. There is no answer to be found in its pages. There is no answer to be found anywhere.

──

author's note: asriel & elias fic will be coming soon, this just has been sitting in my drafts for a while

[doumadono]

My dearest friend. Now, it's my turn to place an emergency request. I'm in an emotionally abusive relationship and have no way out at present. I'm stuck away from home with nowhere to go and not even a career to fall back onto.

When I go out for my evening walks, I always stare at the moon, imagining that my beloved Kokushibo rescues me from it all. And....that's my request: being rescued by Upper Moon One.

Please take your time as this is simply an aggrevation of years and years of a chronic condition. And feel free to change the reason for me being rescued if the real-life reason is too confronting. Lysm 💞💞💞

A/N: My dear friend, I'm truly sorry to hear about the difficult situation you find yourself in. Yet, you have the strength to overcome this, and brighter days are ahead. Don't lose hope, and keep moving forward ♥

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST

In the eerie stillness of the night, as you gazed at the moon's pale glow during your evening walks, you held onto a secret wish. A yearning that transcended reality, a longing for escape from the torment of your emotionally abusive relationship. Little did you know, the universe had other plans.

One fateful evening, as you wandered along your familiar path, your eyes fixated on the moon's silvery visage. The world around you seemed to fade away, and you whispered a silent plea to the heavens.

As your heart poured its anguish into the night, the moonlight shimmered and swirled, forming an ethereal gateway. The air around you grew heavy, laden with an eerie presence. You stumbled back in awe and trepidation as a figure emerged from this otherworldly portal.

It was Kokushibo. His cold, yellowish irises bore into yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Dressed in his distinctive kimono, he radiated power and a kind of dark beauty that was both captivating and terrifying.

Without a word, Kokushibo extended a pale hand, beckoning you to him. His voice, like a haunting melody, echoed in your ears. "Come with me, and leave your suffering behind. I've been keeping an eye on you for quite a while."

As you took his hand, you felt a surge of otherworldly energy coursing through your veins. The two of you ascended into the night sky, leaving your earthly troubles behind.

The journey with Kokushibo through time and space was an astonishing blur of wondrous sights and sensations. It happened so swiftly that it was difficult to process every detail, but what remained etched in your memory was its breathtaking beauty.

As the journey with Kokushibo came to a sudden halt, you opened your eyes, having squeezed them shut to shield yourself from the overwhelming beauty of your cosmic voyage. When your vision cleared, you found yourself in a room that contrasted starkly with the celestial expanse you had just traversed.

This new space was intimate and warm, with wooden walls that exuded a comforting, earthy scent. The wooden floors felt solid and familiar beneath your feet. A single futon was laid out, inviting and cozy, offering respite after your ethereal adventure. The room held a few decorative items, their presence adding a personal touch to the space. On the wooden walls, you noticed intricate designs and patterns that seemed to tell a story of their own.

You gazed up at the tall, enigmatic demon, shivers running down your spine as you stood in that wooden room. You couldn't help but ask the question that had been burning in your mind since your arrival, "Where am I?"

Kokushibo, Upper Moon One, regarded you with those penetrating thee pairs of yellowish eyes. His voice was both commanding and reassuring as he spoke, "You are in your new home, a sanctuary where you can feel safe. You don't have to worry here. I'm not here to hurt you. I've heard your pleas for many nights," he confessed, his words carrying the weight of the countless moments you had looked up to the moon, seeking solace. "I listened as you prayed to the heavens and even the depths of hell for help. And it seems," he continued, "the second one, the one from the depths of darkness, was the one to respond. You see, little human, sometimes the answers to our deepest desires come from unexpected places, in forms we could never have imagined." His words hung in the air, carrying a profound truth about the mysterious and often unpredictable nature of life's responses to our fervent calls for help.

Curiosity burning within you, you couldn't help but ask the question that weighed on your mind. "What am I going to be doing here?" you inquired, your voice quivering with anticipation.

Kokushibo met your gaze with a knowing smile, his eyes never leaving yours. "You," he began, "will become my apprentice. Here, I will teach you everything there is to know about vengeance."

A small, determined smile crept onto your lips as you nodded in response. This was the very opportunity you had dreamt of, the chance to learn the means of retribution and take vengeance on the person who had inflicted so much pain upon you. The thought of turning the tables and finding a way to reclaim your power filled you with a renewed sense of purpose. With Kokushibo's guidance, you would embark on a path to reshape your own fate and confront the source of your deepest wounds.

[midiman100]

A Stylish Touch: Exploring the World of Cock Jewelry

In recent years, intimate jewelry has gained popularity as a bold way to express personal style, and cock jewelry is no exception. Whether it's for enhancing pleasure, spicing up the bedroom, or simply embracing the thrill of body adornment, cock rings and other erotic accessories are growing in appeal. But what exactly is cock jewelry, and how can it be a fashionable and functional part of your lifestyle? Let’s dive in.

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Different Types of Cock Jewelry Classic Cock Rings:

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Decorative Chains and Accessories: For those who want something less restrictive but equally eye-catching, decorative chains or beads can add a unique touch of intimacy. These pieces can drape elegantly around the waist or be affixed to a cock ring for an added layer of ornamentation.

Choosing the Right Cock Jewelry When selecting cock jewelry, comfort and fit should be top priorities. Here's what to consider:

Size and Fit: Choose the right size for your body. Too tight can cause discomfort, while too loose may not provide the intended effect. Many rings come in adjustable or stretchy designs for a customized fit.

Material: Metal cock rings offer a sleek, solid feel but may require more care in sizing, while silicone is more forgiving and beginner-friendly. Leather is also a stylish choice, particularly for those who enjoy the look and feel of soft, adjustable materials.

Purpose: Are you seeking something purely decorative, or do you want functional benefits like enhanced erection strength and sensation? Knowing what you want out of your cock jewelry can help guide your choice.

Safety and Care Tips Wearing cock jewelry can be a fun and exciting experience, but it’s important to keep safety in mind. Here are a few tips to ensure your experience is enjoyable:

Choose the Right Size: Always measure carefully before purchasing a metal or fixed-size ring. If you're unsure, start with an adjustable or stretchy option.

Lubrication: Using a bit of lubricant when putting on and removing your jewelry can help prevent irritation.

Clean Regularly: Make sure to clean your jewelry after every use, especially if it’s made of metal or silicone. Use warm water and mild soap, or a dedicated toy cleaner, to keep your items in top condition.

Where to Buy Cock Jewelry If you're new to cock jewelry, it's important to purchase from reputable sources like Hiddendelites.com who offer a full range of cock jewellery. Quality matters, particularly when it comes to intimate accessories.

Final Thoughts: Embrace Your Bold Style Cock jewelry is more than just an accessory—it's a statement. Whether you’re seeking to enhance your sexual experiences, explore new aesthetics, or simply express your individuality, there’s a piece of cock jewelry out there for you. As the popularity of intimate jewelry continues to rise, more men are discovering the thrill of adding a bit of stylish flair to their intimate lives.

So why not explore the exciting world of cock jewelry and see what suits your style?.

Visit hiddendelites to see our range of cock rings and body jewellery.

[amplifyme]

The call of the wild...

"It is truly quite extraordinary," she murmured, "to know what it is to be untamed, as they are. To seek out what is desired with no doubts, no thought given to the consequences. They know what they want. And if no one attempts to stop them, they simply take it." She laid aside the cloth she'd used to pat his wounds dry and felt a small tug. Looking to Sandor, she followed his gaze to see the lock of auburn hair he held captive between fingers and thumb. He rubbed at it thoughtfully and then lifted his face until it was level with hers. His eyes were deeply gray, dark and probing, and she found she couldn't look away - and didn't particularly want to.

"Listen to you," he said. "You talk of the wolves as though you're one yourself. Maybe you are. Wolf … and half a wildling, too. You've more the look of them now, than a daughter of Winterfell."

That much was true. Her hair had grown longer, well below her waist, thick and unruly with curls, her dress rough-spun wool and without decoration, scratchy on her skin without a shift beneath it, but warm, with simple laces that tied down the front. Her definition of luxury had changed when she had joined the pack and begun her travels, learning to get by with the barest of necessities and taking small pleasures wherever she could. The man before her in that moment, long legs bracketing her as she stood between them, was to Sansa like the ripest, sweetest fruit, a flesh and blood creation of everything she had gone without until then. With his ravaged, terrible face and the smell of his sweat sharp in her nostrils, the curves and planes of his powerful muscles beneath her hands, his skin softer than it had any right to be. She wanted him with a primal need.

Somehow her mouth was still able to form words, the sound of them filling spaces that seemed suddenly charged with anticipation. "Sometimes I think the wolves smarter than us, or at least more practical. If they are hungry, they hunt and eat. When they're thirsty, they find water and drink their fill. When tired, they simply stop to rest. And when the urge comes upon them, when the cycle of the moon tells them the time is right, they mate. It's all so very… simple."

Sandor released the lock of hair he'd been holding. His knuckles skimmed lightly over the upper slope of her breast as his hand fell away, and she fought the urge to grab it up and press his palm there.

"You're not, you know," he said, his voice settling rough in her ears – the already distinctive rasp even more pronounced. A fresh fission of heat shot through her and she almost lost her legs. She grasped for something to steady herself and her open hand landed on the wide plank of his thigh. They looked down at the same time, absorbing the tableau presented them, and then back up. Their eyes met again and she found she could manage barely more than a whisper.

"I'm not what?"

"Safe. With me. You never were."

"I am not that girl anymore, Sandor."

"Might be you're right. But I am still that man."

"I was once afraid of you. Now I am not."

"You should be."

"Why? What could you possibly do to me that other men have not already done?"

The Calling

[ferromagnetiic]

She'd been struggling with his birthday -- debating on how to celebrate him. If she wanted to celebrate him, at all. After all, he had (not-so-kindly) put a damper on her birthday celebration, and it would take her a while to forget it. It was likely that Kid would have a good birthday, with or without her input --- it made her wonder why she cared, at all. She did, though. And for that, Kid would receive an expensive bottle of whiskey from one of the best distilleries in his homeland. Along with it, a decanter set in the shape of a skull, with matching glasses. Something about it simply screamed Eustass Kidd, and Nami knew he had to have it when she saw it. Attached, was a little note. She didn't make it a long one; simple, precise, cursive writing centered on the page:

Happy birthday, dickhead. - 🍊🧡

【 KID'S BIRTHDAY 2024. 】 @chatcambrioleur

          When Kid had first discovered the Straw Hats were in the immediate vicinity, he had been keeping a very mindful eye out for their navigator in particular. If she was going to seek revenge for the events occurring during her last birthday, today would be the best day to do it. For this reason, he told himself he would be even more on guard than usual — but she was crafty, and he didn't trust her to not try something just because she was under additional surveillance.

Several hours have passed since he was first informed of their appearance, but he has still yet to spot her. Admittedly, his attention has since been divided; with his own crew members regularly approaching him to offer him warm words coupled with cold drinks, she has had plenty of opportunities to slip by him unnoticed. His attentiveness further dwindles with every mouthful of hard liquor, and his plan to intercept her arrival on his turf ebbs further and further away from him.

By the time he has found her gift, he has all but forgotten that he was originally intending to watch out for her. The copious amount of celebratory booze has stolen the scheme away from him, and the cat burglar has already successfully slipped away. In her wake, the note attached to the present she left him exposes his blunder. It is innocently placed on a wooden crate on the main deck, somehow teasing him, playfully mocking him with its mere presence. He recognizes her handwriting even without a blatant signature; her elegant script was distinct in its meticulousness.

If she ultimately does still intend to later return and make an attempt at humiliating him today, at least the generosity of the birthday present will soften the blow. There's no doubt over him liking the items she's selected — a pair of copper irises linger over the decorative skull-shaped bottle for a long time, and his expression brightens in a way that is immediately telling. Nami was always full of surprises, but he hadn't expected any of them to be the kind that would genuinely please him.

It is rare for him to willingly share with anyone other than those who sailed under his flag, and yet, he finds himself considering that if she has not yet entirely absconded the area, he might be willing to offer her a few sips. He carries the glass skull neatly tucked under his arm, and one of the corresponding glasses in each hand. It is likely the alcohol already in his system is the culprit for this minor display of geniality, but he will not consider that now.

He looks for her, briefly. He checks in with those on his crew who had been performing guard duty, and then he asks anyone who might have noticed when the whiskey first appeared. Stealth was her profession, and in the midst of birthday merriment, there was barely a sober member of his crew now remaining. She must have found it no major feat to appear, only to then quickly bleed back into the cover of nightfall.

A shame, he thinks. He might have liked to have asked if it was bought, or stolen. He suspects he may know the answer already, but he is starting to come to terms with the fact that he may be less adept at predicting her actions than he first assumed. He will drink his own glass, and then he will have hers as well. The smooth amber liquid reflects the quality of the artistic container it is presented in. She's got good taste, but he'd figured that much out a while ago.

Regardless of how good the whiskey is, he will make sure to save some for her to try the next time they meet. The first taste will be complementary, but on the understanding that additional refills will need to be exchanged for more of her tangerines.

[kangiramilan]

Rosewood Sofa Set

Introduction:

When it comes to furnishing your living room, choosing the right sofa set can transform the entire ambiance of the space. If you're looking for a blend of sophistication, durability, and natural beauty, a rosewood sofa set is an excellent choice. Rosewood, known for its rich color and grain pattern, adds an unmatched touch of elegance to any home. In this blog, we'll explore the unique characteristics and benefits of a rosewood sofa set, and why it's a worthy investment for your living space.

Unparalleled Aesthetic Appeal:

The distinct reddish-brown hue of rosewood brings a sense of warmth and luxury to your living room. The intricate grain pattern and fine texture create a visually stunning piece of furniture. Whether your interior style is traditional, modern, or eclectic, a rosewood sofa set effortlessly blends in, adding a touch of sophistication and class to your decor.

Timeless Beauty:

One of the remarkable qualities of rosewood is its ability to withstand the test of time. As the wood ages, it develops a rich patina that enhances its natural beauty. Unlike other materials that may lose their luster over the years, a rosewood sofa set maintains its elegance and allure, making it a long-lasting investment.

Durability and Strength:

Rosewood is known for its exceptional durability and strength. This hardwood is highly resistant to warping, cracking, and decay, ensuring that your sofa set remains sturdy and intact for years to come. Whether you have a bustling household with children and pets or simply want furniture that can withstand daily use, a rosewood sofa set is an ideal choice.

Versatile Design Options:

Rosewood offers a wide range of design options, allowing you to select a sofa set that perfectly complements your personal style and preferences. From classic and intricately carved designs to sleek and contemporary silhouettes, there is a rosewood sofa set to suit every taste. Additionally, the wood can be polished, stained, or left in its natural state, providing flexibility in matching your existing decor or creating a statement piece.

Comfort and Relaxation:

Apart from its aesthetic qualities, a rosewood sofa set offers exceptional comfort and relaxation. The solid construction, coupled with plush upholstery, ensures a cozy seating experience for you and your guests. Whether you're hosting a movie night or enjoying a quiet evening with a book, sinking into the luxurious cushions of a rosewood sofa is pure bliss.

Sustainable and Eco-Friendly Choice:

In today's environmentally conscious world, opting for sustainable furniture is crucial. Rosewood is a responsibly sourced hardwood, ensuring that your choice doesn't contribute to deforestation 

or harm the environment. By investing in a rosewood sofa set, you can enjoy the benefits of its beauty and durability while knowing that you've made an eco-friendly decision.

Natural and Non-Toxic

Rosewood is a natural material and doesn't typically contain harmful chemicals or toxins. This can be beneficial for individuals who are sensitive or allergic to synthetic materials commonly found in furniture made from plastics or particleboard.

Conclusion:

A rosewood sofa set is a timeless investment that combines exquisite craftsmanship, durability, and natural beauty. Its unmatched aesthetic appeal, versatile design options, and ability to age gracefully make it a perfect addition to any living space. Whether you're seeking elegance, comfort, or a touch of sophistication, a rosewood sofa set is sure to elevate your home's interior and create a lasting impression on your guests. Choose the enduring allure of rosewood and immerse yourself in a world of refined luxury.

To know more.

[mjolnir-viking-jewelry]

Wood mjolnir wall hanging – 299$

Introducing our Wood Mjolnir Wall Hanging, crafted in the iconic Oseberg Style a tribute to Viking heritage and craftsmanship. ✧ Material: oak ✧ Height: 15.74 inches (40 cm) ✧ Width: 12.59 inches (32 cm) This remarkable wall decor features a Thor's hammer design inspired by the prow of the famous Viking ship from the Oseberg burial site. Meticulously carved from high-quality oak, this wood carving captures the essence of Viking artistry and symbolism. The intricate detailing of the Mjolnir design adds a touch of Norse mythology to any room in your home or office. Embrace the spirit of the Vikings and elevate your space with this unique and historically inspired wood Thor hammer decor. Whether you're a history enthusiast, a lover of Viking culture, or simply seeking distinctive decor, our Wood Mjolnir Wall Hanging is sure to leave a lasting impression.

[colivingflats]

Nightlife and Living in Berlin: Kreuzberg, Charlottenburg, and Friedrichshain Compared

Berlin's distinct neighborhoods each possess their own rhythm, personality, and tempo. Nowhere is this more evident than in the boroughs of Kreuzberg, Charlottenburg, and Friedrichshain, which together represent a microcosm of the city’s evolution—from countercultural defiance to modern cosmopolitanism. Understanding these areas requires more than just a glance at a map; it involves delving into their histories, lifestyles, and notably, their renowned nightlife scenes. Berlin’s reputation as a global nightlife capital draws on its ability to host radically different atmospheres within mere kilometers. But beyond the clubs and bars lies the everyday reality of living in these spaces, which range from bohemian and edgy to stately and serene.

As we compare these three Berlin neighborhoods, we explore how each shapes and is shaped by the city's nocturnal spirit and daily rhythms. This comparison offers invaluable insights for those considering relocation or simply seeking to understand Berlin’s urban diversity on a deeper level. Whether you’re a night owl, a history buff, or someone looking for the ideal blend of excitement and tranquility, Berlin’s boroughs have something distinct to offer.

Kreuzberg: Creative Chaos and Cultural Layers

The Nightlife Pulse

Kreuzberg’s nightlife is legendary. As a symbol of rebellion and multiculturalism, this district has long been a haven for artists, punks, and political radicals. Its transformation from a marginalized neighborhood in the shadow of the Berlin Wall to a vibrant cultural hub underscores its adaptive spirit. The area around Schlesisches Tor and Görlitzer Park is especially rich with underground clubs, independent bars, and spontaneous open-air raves. Venues like SO36, steeped in punk and LGBTQ+ history, coexist with newer establishments offering eclectic electronic sets that attract international DJs.

What sets Kreuzberg apart is not just the variety of its venues, but the ethos that underpins them. This is a place where inclusivity, artistic expression, and anti-commercialism thrive. Unlike more polished districts, Kreuzberg’s nightlife maintains an authentic, somewhat anarchic edge. You’re just as likely to find an impromptu jam session in a squat as a curated lineup in a well-known club. The absence of rigid closing times amplifies this freedom, allowing nights to stretch seamlessly into mornings. For those who equate nightlife with creativity and unpredictability, Kreuzberg is a compelling choice.

Living in Kreuzberg

Life in Kreuzberg is anything but uniform. The district’s population is among the most diverse in Berlin, with strong Turkish, Arab, and African communities shaping its cultural and culinary landscape. From bustling street markets to alternative bookstores and vegan eateries, the urban fabric here caters to a wide range of lifestyles. Apartments often reside in Altbau buildings—pre-war structures characterized by high ceilings and decorative facades—though modern co-living spaces are becoming more common as demand increases.

Despite its gentrification, Kreuzberg retains a gritty charm and community-oriented spirit. Green spaces like Viktoriapark and the Landwehr Canal offer pockets of calm amid the urban energy. Public transportation is excellent, with U-Bahn lines like the U1 and U8 providing quick access to central Berlin. For those drawn to community activism, artistic experimentation, and an unpolished aesthetic, Kreuzberg offers a dynamic home base.

Charlottenburg: Elegance Meets Entertainment

Sophisticated Nightlife

Charlottenburg offers a stark contrast to Kreuzberg’s grunge and improvisation. Rooted in West Berlin’s bourgeois traditions, it showcases a more refined, cosmopolitan nightlife. Here, jazz clubs, historic theaters, and upscale lounges define the nocturnal experience. Kantstraße, with its array of chic cocktail bars and fusion restaurants, typifies the neighborhood’s modern affluence. Venues like Quasimodo provide timeless musical experiences, while hotel bars and rooftop lounges cater to those seeking comfort and class.

While Charlottenburg may lack the raw intensity of Kreuzberg, it compensates with polish and professionalism. This is a district where service quality, ambiance, and aesthetic detail are paramount. The clientele is diverse but leans towards professionals, expats, and those seeking a quieter night out. Cultural nightlife—opera, ballet, and art exhibitions—plays an equally significant role here, offering intellectual stimulation alongside social engagement.

Living in Charlottenburg

Charlottenburg is synonymous with grace. Tree-lined avenues, luxury boutiques, and neoclassical architecture convey a sense of stability and prestige. It's an ideal location for families and professionals who prioritize tranquility without sacrificing urban conveniences. The district’s housing stock includes both grand historic apartments and modern high-end residences. With its proximity to the sprawling Tiergarten park and the Ku’damm shopping boulevard, Charlottenburg combines green living with commercial vibrancy.

Educational institutions like the Technical University of Berlin contribute to a scholarly atmosphere, while embassies and international offices enhance its global character. Excellent public services and safety ratings make Charlottenburg particularly appealing to long-term residents. If Kreuzberg embodies Berlin’s heart, Charlottenburg represents its composed, elegant mind.

Friedrichshain: Youthful Energy and Electronic Beats

A Nightlife Destination

Friedrichshain is Berlin’s epicenter for electronic music. The neighborhood’s transformation from an industrial East Berlin sector to a nightlife powerhouse has been rapid and dramatic. The most iconic symbol of this change is Berghain, the globally renowned techno club housed in a former power plant. Yet Friedrichshain’s nightlife extends well beyond its most famous venue. Revaler Straße and Boxhagener Platz are dense with clubs, cocktail bars, and street parties, catering to a youthful, international crowd.

This district’s appeal lies in its adaptability. Whether you’re looking for a hardcore techno marathon, a casual beer garden, or a hipster dive bar, Friedrichshain delivers. Its nightlife is deeply rooted in East Berlin’s counterculture, and the area continues to celebrate freedom of expression and nonconformity. Compared to Kreuzberg’s artistic edge and Charlottenburg’s refinement, Friedrichshain is about endurance, community, and hedonism. It’s where Berlin’s fabled never-ending nights often begin—and sometimes never end.

Living in Friedrichshain

Friedrichshain balances its high-octane nightlife with livable charm. It has become increasingly popular among students, freelancers, and young families seeking affordability and accessibility. The neighborhood’s architecture is a mix of DDR-era Plattenbauten and meticulously renovated buildings. Many apartments have been modernized, though they often retain historical elements that reflect the area’s socialist past.

Despite its party reputation, Friedrichshain is also deeply residential. Weekly farmers' markets, bike-friendly infrastructure, and close proximity to the Spree River create a surprisingly relaxed daytime atmosphere. Green spaces like Volkspark Friedrichshain provide recreational relief and foster community gatherings. Accessibility is another strength, with S-Bahn and U-Bahn lines intersecting efficiently across the district. As demand grows, options like friedrichshain apartments offer an enticing entry point for those seeking an immersive Berlin experience.

Making a Choice: Lifestyle and Priorities

Choosing between these three districts ultimately comes down to lifestyle preferences and priorities. Kreuzberg appeals to those who value diversity, activism, and artistic chaos. Its nightlife is immersive, spontaneous, and often politically charged. Living here means being part of an ever-evolving social experiment, where the boundaries between public and private, performance and reality, blur.

Charlottenburg, on the other hand, is for those who appreciate order, tradition, and high standards. Its nightlife is curated and classic, offering refinement rather than shock. Residents can expect a high quality of life, defined by efficient services, cultural wealth, and architectural splendor. If comfort, heritage, and understated luxury resonate with you, this may be the ideal setting.

Friedrichshain sits somewhere in between—young, adaptable, and vibrant. It embraces the energy of Kreuzberg but filters it through a more structured environment. Nightlife here is intense and magnetic, yet its residential quarters remain surprisingly grounded. As rental demand rises, options like charlottenburg apartments for rent and kreuzberg apartments for rent provide attractive entry points into Berlin’s dynamic urban landscape.

Each of these boroughs offers a unique slice of Berlin, shaped by its history, its people, and its nightly rhythms. The choice among them is less about better or worse and more about what kind of life—and night—you wish to lead.

[thebeautifulcompanyuk]

Unique Designs of Men’s Platinum Wedding Rings That Stand Out

Selecting the right wedding ring is a momentous choice. It represents a lifelong bond of love and commitment, one that will be worn day in and day out.

For many men, platinum wedding rings are the ultimate choice. They seamlessly combine strength, prestige, and timeless beauty. Platinum’s natural white shine remains untouched by time, never fading or changing color. This makes it an excellent option for anyone searching for a wedding ring that will endure through the years.

However, it's not just about lasting power. The range of designs for men's platinum wedding rings is both varied and distinctive. Whether you’re drawn to a sleek, classic band or a more luxurious diamond-studded design, there’s a platinum ring to match every style.

In this article, we'll take you through the different styles and options available for men's platinum wedding rings. Plus, we’ll share some helpful tips to guide you in choosing the perfect ring.

So, whether you're about to tie the knot or simply have an appreciation for platinum jewelry, continue reading to find out more.

Introduction

Importance of Wedding Rings

Wedding rings are far more than just decorative pieces of jewelry. They symbolize the lasting bond and commitment shared between two individuals. Exchanged during the wedding ceremony, they serve as a continual reminder of the promises made and the love shared.

For many, a wedding ring represents unity. It becomes a daily symbol of two lives intertwined and the vows taken. As such, selecting the right wedding ring is a deeply meaningful choice, one that reflects both personal style and the values that hold the relationship together.

Across different cultures and throughout history, wedding rings have carried various meanings. Despite these differences, the underlying theme of love remains unchanged. The rich history and deep symbolism of wedding rings show why they hold such significance and why they are cherished in marriage ceremonies worldwide.

Why Choose Platinum?

Platinum has long been a popular choice for wedding rings, and for good reason. Known for its strength and durability, platinum is an excellent option for rings that are worn every day. Unlike other metals, platinum maintains its brilliant shine and resists tarnishing over time.

The metal's naturally bright white hue enhances the sparkle of diamonds and other gemstones, making it a favorite for those seeking a luxurious yet refined look. In addition to its visual appeal, platinum is hypoallergenic, making it an ideal choice for individuals with sensitive skin, ensuring both comfort and style.

What truly sets platinum apart is its rarity, adding to its charm and value. Choosing a platinum ring is not just about its aesthetic beauty—it's an investment in longevity and quality. It's a metal that speaks to refined taste and a true appreciation for excellence.

Popular Styles of Men’s Platinum Wedding Bands

Classic Plain Bands

Classic plain bands have remained a timeless option for many generations. Their simplicity conveys a sense of sophistication and elegance, making them a perfect choice for those who prefer understated beauty over elaborate designs.

In the world of wedding rings, plain bands are a staple that never goes out of style. Their smooth, polished surface and sleek design make them incredibly versatile, easily complementing any personal style. Whether for formal occasions or casual wear, these bands work seamlessly with any outfit.

What makes classic plain bands so appealing is their adaptability. They can be worn alone or paired with other jewelry pieces. And with various customization options, you can make a plain band truly your own:

Width Variations: Whether you prefer a narrower 4mm band or a wider, more substantial look, there’s something for everyone.

Finish Choices: From a high-polish sheen to a matte or brushed texture, you can choose the finish that best fits your style.

Weight: Some people enjoy the feel of a lightweight ring, while others prefer the substantial weight of a more robust design.

These options make it easy to find a plain band that reflects your personal taste.

Textured Designs

For those looking for something a bit more distinctive, textured designs bring a fresh and modern touch to wedding bands. These rings feature a variety of surface treatments, such as matte, hammered, or brushed textures, each offering a unique feel and appearance.

The beauty of textured bands lies in their individuality. Each finish provides a different tactile experience, making them especially appealing to those who want their ring to stand out without being overly flashy. These textures also have a practical benefit—they can help disguise scratches, keeping the ring looking pristine for longer.

Textured bands offer just enough personality while maintaining a refined and sophisticated look. This makes them versatile enough to complement both contemporary and traditional styles. Popular texture options include:

Matte Finish: A non-reflective surface for a subtle, elegant appearance.

Hammered Look: A handcrafted, artisanal touch that adds character.

Brushed Style: A soft, satin-like finish that exudes understated charm.

Choosing a textured design allows you to add a personal touch to your ring while keeping it simple and timeless.

With Diamond Accents

If you’re looking for something more luxurious, diamond-accented platinum bands offer the perfect combination of strength and brilliance. These rings pair the durability of platinum with the sparkle of diamonds, resulting in a breathtaking piece of jewelry that symbolizes commitment in a truly stunning way.

Diamond accents can elevate a simple band into something extraordinary. For those who appreciate fine details and craftsmanship, these rings are a perfect choice. Whether featuring a row of diamonds or scattered stones, the added sparkle brings depth and dimension to the design.

One of the greatest advantages of diamond-accented bands is their versatility. They can either complement a partner’s ring or stand out on their own. The contrast between diamonds’ cool sparkle and platinum’s gleaming white luster creates an unforgettable combination.

Here are some popular diamond settings to consider:

Channel Setting: Diamonds are set flush with the band, creating a sleek, seamless look.

Bezel Setting: Each diamond is encircled with platinum, offering both protection and prominence.

Pavé Setting: Tiny diamonds are embedded into the surface, creating a continuous sparkle.

These thoughtful design elements ensure that each ring is a beautiful, personalized symbol of love and commitment.

Trends in Men’s Platinum Wedding Bands

Vintage Inspiration

Vintage-inspired rings are making a comeback, with their timeless charm appealing to modern couples. These rings capture the elegance of past eras, often featuring intricate details like milgrain edges and delicate filigree patterns that set them apart.

These ornate designs tell a story of craftsmanship and history, making them especially attractive to those who appreciate artistry and heritage. Their heirloom-like qualities also make them an excellent choice for sentimental couples who want a wedding ring that feels as though it could be passed down through generations.

Vintage rings are more than just a nod to nostalgia; they represent a sophisticated style that never goes out of fashion. The detailed artistry and craftsmanship of these designs bring an added touch of luxury, perfect for those who wish to celebrate enduring love with a ring that speaks to timeless beauty.

Modern Minimalism

The minimalist trend is on the rise, with clean, sleek designs gaining popularity for their simplicity and elegance. These rings focus on unembellished surfaces, allowing the natural beauty of platinum to take center stage.

Modern minimalist rings typically feature smooth, refined bands that are free from any ornate detailing. This emphasis on simplicity creates a sense of quiet sophistication, appealing to those who prefer subtlety over extravagance.

The beauty of minimalist designs lies in their versatility. Their clean lines and understated elegance make them suitable for a wide range of personal styles. Perfect for those who value a timeless, less-is-more approach, modern minimalism speaks to those who appreciate quiet, refined luxury.

Personalized Designs

Personalized wedding rings are more popular than ever, allowing couples to express their individuality through custom features. Whether through unique shapes, personalized engravings, or the inclusion of meaningful gemstones, these designs tell a personal story.

Incorporating personal touches into a wedding ring makes it even more meaningful. Many couples opt for stones that carry special significance, such as birthstones or stones from significant moments in their relationship, ensuring the ring feels uniquely theirs.

The beauty of personalized designs lies in the endless possibilities they offer. From engraving names and dates to including custom gemstones, each choice reflects the couple's shared journey. Personalized wedding bands go beyond mere jewelry—they become treasured mementos, filled with memories and special meaning.

Caring for Your Platinum Wedding Ring

Cleaning Tips

To keep your platinum wedding ring shining for years to come, regular care is essential. Fortunately, cleaning your ring is a simple process that can help preserve its brilliance. Start by soaking the ring in a bowl of warm water mixed with mild dish soap to loosen any dirt or grime.

Once soaked, use a soft-bristled toothbrush to gently scrub the ring, paying extra attention to any crevices where dirt might gather. 

Afterward, rinse the ring thoroughly with warm water and dry it with a soft, lint-free cloth.

For optimal results, keep these tips in mind:

Clean your platinum ring every few weeks to maintain its shine.

Avoid using harsh chemicals, as they can damage the metal.

After cleaning, a microfiber cloth can help enhance the ring’s luster and finish.

Storage Recommendations

Proper storage is key to protecting your platinum ring from unnecessary wear and tear. Always store it in a safe, designated spot to keep it free from scratches and other potential damage.

A soft pouch or a lined jewelry box works best for keeping your ring protected from dust and external harm. It’s also important to keep your platinum ring separate from other jewelry to prevent scratches.

Here are some key storage tips:

Keep your ring in a separate pouch or compartment to avoid contact with other jewelry.

Store it in a dry place, away from humid areas to prevent tarnishing.

Keep the ring away from cleaning supplies or harsh chemicals to avoid any potential damage.

When to Seek Professional Help

While regular care is important, professional maintenance can be beneficial over time. As your platinum ring ages, it may lose some of its original shine. A professional jeweler can restore its luster through polishing and cleaning.

If you notice deep scratches or loose gemstones, it's a good idea to consult a jeweler. Professional help ensures any structural issues are addressed and that your ring stays in perfect condition. Jewelers have the tools and expertise to safely adjust and repair your precious piece.

It’s also a good practice to have your ring inspected by a professional at least once a year. This will help catch any potential issues early and ensure that your ring maintains its original beauty and integrity for many years to come.

[betpro9998]

Full Size Car Bed: The Perfect Blend of Comfort and Style

When it comes to bedroom furniture, the full-size car bed is becoming an increasingly popular choice for those looking to add a touch of excitement and uniqueness to their living space. Whether you're a car enthusiast or someone seeking a fun and functional sleeping solution, a full-size car bed offers both comfort and style. This article delves into the features, benefits, and considerations when choosing the perfect full-size car bed for your home.

What Is a Full-Size Car Bed?

A full-size car bed is exactly what it sounds like—a bed designed in the shape of a car, typically sized to accommodate a full mattress. These beds are usually crafted from sturdy materials like wood, metal, or plastic and feature intricate designs that resemble actual cars. Many full-size car beds come with features such as built-in storage, LED lights, and even sound systems, making them not just a bed but an exciting piece of furniture that doubles as a unique statement.

Why Choose a Full-Size Car Bed?

1. Unique Aesthetic Appeal

One of the most obvious reasons to choose a full-size car bed is its distinctive look. A race car or sports car-inspired bed adds a bold visual appeal to any room, especially for those who are passionate about automobiles. Whether it's for a kid's room or an adult's bedroom, a car bed makes a statement and brings a sense of adventure to the space.

2. Comfort and Functionality

Although the bed's appearance may steal the show, comfort remains a top priority. Full-size car beds are designed to provide ample space and support, just like any traditional full-size bed. With the right mattress, these beds ensure a restful night’s sleep. Additionally, many models come with features like under-bed storage drawers, offering a practical solution to maximize space in your room.

3. Ideal for Car Enthusiasts

For individuals who are passionate about cars, a full-size car bed is a great way to incorporate their love for automobiles into their home decor. Whether you're a collector or simply enjoy the thrill of racing, having a bed designed like a car can feel like a dream come true. From sleek, modern designs to vintage-style models, there’s a car bed that suits every car enthusiast’s taste.

Features to Look for in a Full-Size Car Bed

When shopping for a full-size car bed, it's important to consider a few key features to ensure you’re making the right choice for your needs.

1. Durability

Given that a full-size car bed can be a significant investment, durability is crucial. Look for beds made from high-quality materials that can withstand daily use. Opt for models with solid frames and reinforced corners for maximum stability.

2. Additional Features

Many full-size car beds come with extra features that enhance the overall experience. For instance, LED lights can add a fun touch, and built-in speakers or a sound system can provide an immersive atmosphere. Some models also include a built-in desk or nightstands for added convenience.

3. Design and Style

The design of the bed should match your personal aesthetic. Whether you prefer a sleek, modern car design or a more rugged, off-road style, you’ll find options that cater to every preference. Be sure to choose a style that complements the rest of your bedroom decor.

Considerations Before Buying a Full-Size Car Bed

While a full-size car bed can be a fantastic addition to your home, there are a few considerations to keep in mind before making a purchase.

1. Space Requirements

Full-size car beds can be bulky, especially when they include additional features such as storage or built-in electronics. Ensure that the bed fits comfortably in your room and leaves ample space for movement. Measure the available space before purchasing to avoid any surprises.

2. Budget

Full-size car beds can vary in price depending on the materials, design, and features. While some models are affordable, others with more advanced features can be quite expensive. Set a budget before shopping and choose a bed that meets your needs without compromising on quality.

3. Assembly

Some full-size car beds require assembly, which may be a daunting task for those who are not handy with tools. Be sure to check if the bed comes with detailed instructions or if professional assembly is available.

Conclusion

A full-size car bed is the ultimate fusion of comfort and style, offering both a functional sleeping space and an exciting design for car lovers. With options ranging from basic models to those featuring advanced features like storage and lights, there's a car bed for every preference. Keep in mind the size, design, and features that best fit your needs, and enjoy a fun, unique, and comfortable sleeping experience.

[conversifymarket]

Buy Affordable Metal, Clay, and Mexican Chimineas at Chiminea Shop UK

Enhancing your outdoor space with a chiminea is an excellent way to create a cozy atmosphere for gatherings, relaxation, and enjoyment of nature. For those seeking an affordable yet stylish solution, Chiminea Shop UK offers a diverse selection of metal, clay, and Mexican chimineas that cater to various preferences and budgets. With their unique designs, durability, and efficiency, these outdoor fireplaces not only provide warmth but also add a beautiful focal point to your garden or patio.

The Benefits of Owning a Chiminea

Chimineas serve as functional outdoor heating solutions, metal chiminea but their charm goes beyond practicality. These unique structures provide warmth when you want to extend your outdoor experiences into the cooler months. Sitting around a crackling fire with friends and family creates a welcoming atmosphere, fostering conversation and connection. Moreover, chimineas can transform an ordinary outdoor space into an inviting retreat where you can unwind, enjoy a meal, or simply gaze at the stars. By investing in a chiminea, you get more than just a heating element; you create memories and meaningful experiences.

Exploring Metal Chimineas

Metal chimineas are a popular choice for many homeowners due to their durability and modern aesthetic. Made from materials such as cast iron or stainless steel, these chimineas can withstand various weather conditions without deteriorating. They heat up quickly and provide effective warmth, making them perfect for chilly evenings. The sleek and contemporary designs of metal chimineas makes them versatile enough to fit into any outdoor decor theme, whether it’s a sleek patio or a rustic garden. Additionally, their structural integrity ensures a longer lifespan, making them a practical investment for any outdoor area.

The Allure of Clay Chimineas

On the other hand, clay chimineas embody a traditional charm that many homeowners find irresistible. Handcrafted from natural clay, these chimineas offer exceptional heat retention, radiating warmth long after the fire has died down. The distinct earthy colors and designs of clay chimineas add a rustic and artistic touch to outdoor spaces. Many clay models also feature intricate details that showcase the artisan's craftsmanship, making them not only functional but also stunning pieces of art. While clay chimineas require a bit more care and attention to prevent cracking in adverse weather conditions, their beauty and efficient heating capabilities make them a worthy addition to any garden.

Mexican Chimineas: A Cultural Touch

Mexican chimineas, in particular, stand out for their rich history and cultural significance. These unique outdoor fireplaces typically feature colorful hand-painted designs, reflecting the vibrant traditions of Mexican artisans. Each piece tells a story and adds a cultural flair to your outdoor area, making it a delightful conversation starter. The functionality of Mexican chimineas is just as impressive as their aesthetics. They effectively contain heat and smoke, allowing you to enjoy a fire without the annoyance of drifting smoke. By choosing a Mexican chiminea from Chiminea Shop UK, you’re not just purchasing a heating device; you're embracing a piece of culture and craftsmanship that enhances the charm of your outdoor space.

Affordable Options for Every Budget

Chiminea Shop UK is committed to providing affordable options without compromising on quality. With a wide range of metal, clay, and Mexican chimineas available at competitive prices, there is something to suit every budget. Shopping at Chiminea Shop allows customers to find the perfect chiminea that fits their style and space without breaking the bank. Plus, regular promotions and discounts make it even easier to find the ideal outdoor centerpiece for your home. This commitment to affordability ensures that more homeowners can enjoy the benefits of a chiminea in their outdoor living spaces.

Creating an Inviting Outdoor Atmosphere

Once you've chosen your ideal chiminea, creating an inviting outdoor atmosphere becomes a delightful journey. Consider arranging comfortable seating around the chiminea to encourage gatherings and facilitate conversation. Adding cushions, blankets, and outdoor rugs can increase comfort and enhance the aesthetic appeal of your setup. To set the mood, consider incorporating soft lighting, such as string lights or lanterns, that complement the soft glow of the fire. The result will be a magical outdoor space where you and your loved ones can spend memorable evenings, making it a vital component of your home.

Exceptional Customer Service at Chiminea Shop UK

At Chiminea Shop UK, customer satisfaction is a top priority. The team is dedicated to helping customers find the perfect chiminea that meets their needs and enhances their outdoor experience. With knowledgeable staff ready to answer any questions and provide guidance, shopping for a chiminea becomes an enjoyable process. Seamless online shopping, complete with detailed product descriptions and images, allows for informed decision-making. The commitment to excellent service ensures that every customer leaves with a chiminea they love, ready to enjoy the warmth and charm it brings to their outdoor space.

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Stylish Nautical Porthole Decor from GLOBEDECOR

Add a touch of maritime elegance to your space with GLOBEDECOR’s nautical porthole decor collection. These distinctive pieces capture the timeless beauty of ship windows, bringing the charm of the sea into your home. Perfect for coastal-inspired interiors or those seeking a nautical flair, our portholes are crafted with precision and quality. Whether you're outfitting a beach house or simply love ocean-inspired design, GLOBEDECOR offers the perfect nautical accents to elevate your home. Browse our selection today and let your space sail into style with GLOBEDECOR’s nautical porthole decor!

[jasonvanof]

Ceramic vs Porcelain: The 5 Differences You Should Know

When it comes to tableware and decorative items, the debate between ceramic and porcelain has long captivated both casual consumers and connoisseurs alike. Whether you are a restaurant owner seeking dinner plates wholesale or simply searching for the best housewarming gifts, understanding the key differences between these two materials can significantly impact your purchasing decisions. This comprehensive guide will delve into the five crucial distinctions that set ceramic and porcelain apart, helping you make informed choices for your home or business.

The Historical Journey

The story of ceramics and porcelain is deeply intertwined with human civilization. While ceramic production dates back to ancient civilizations across the globe, porcelain's discovery in China during the Tang Dynasty (618-907 CE) marked a revolutionary advancement in pottery-making. This "white gold," as it became known in Europe, was so valuable that it sparked international trade routes and influenced global commerce for centuries.

Understanding the Fundamental Differences

Composition and Manufacturing Process

At their core, both ceramic and porcelain are clay-based materials, but their composition and manufacturing processes differ significantly. Traditional ceramics are typically made from earthen clays, often combined with various minerals and water. The resulting mixture is shaped and fired at temperatures between 1,000°C and 1,200°C.

Porcelain, however, is crafted from a specific type of clay called kaolin, mixed with feldspar and quartz. This refined composition undergoes firing at much higher temperatures, usually between 1,200°C and 1,400°C. The intense heat causes the materials to vitrify, creating that characteristic translucent quality that makes porcelain particularly appealing as a gift for a wedding couple in Sri Lanka or other special occasions.

Density and Durability

The higher firing temperature of porcelain results in a denser, more durable material compared to traditional ceramics. This increased density makes porcelain more resistant to chipping and scratching, which explains why it is often chosen for employee gifts and other professional presentations where durability matters.

The molecular structure of porcelain is more tightly packed, creating fewer pores and air pockets within the material. This structural difference not only contributes to its strength but also affects its water absorption rate, which is typically less than 0.5% for porcelain compared to ceramics' 3% or higher.

Appearance and Aesthetic Quality

Perhaps the most immediately noticeable difference between ceramic and porcelain lies in their appearance. Ceramics generally have a more rustic, earthy appearance with varying degrees of translucency. The colour can range from deep terracotta to pure white, depending on the clay composition and glazing techniques used.

Porcelain, conversely, is known for its clean, bright white appearance and characteristic translucency when held up to light. This refined look comes from the kaolin clay and the high-temperature firing process, which creates a glass-like finish. While both materials can be glazed and decorated, porcelain typically achieves more delicate, precise patterns due to its smoother surface.

Versatility and Applications

Both materials offer unique advantages in different applications. Ceramics excel in situations where a more casual, rustic aesthetic is desired. They are often used in:

Everyday tableware.

Decorative pottery.

Garden planters.

Architectural elements.

Porcelain's superior strength and refined appearance make it ideal for:

Fine dining establishments.

Medical and laboratory equipment.

High-end bathroom fixtures.

Electrical insulators.

The versatility of both materials extends beyond their traditional uses, with modern manufacturing techniques expanding their potential applications continuously.

Cost and Value Considerations

The price difference between ceramic and porcelain items can be substantial, primarily due to their manufacturing processes and raw material costs. Ceramic products are generally more affordable, making them accessible for everyday use and casual settings. The simpler manufacturing process and more readily available materials contribute to their lower cost.

Porcelain's higher price point reflects its more complex production process, requiring specific raw materials and higher energy consumption during firing. However, its durability often makes it a more cost-effective choice in the long run, particularly for items that see frequent use.

Making the Right Choice

When deciding between ceramic and porcelain, consider these key factors:

Intended Use: Consider how the item will be used. For everyday casual dining, ceramics might be perfectly suitable. However, for special occasions or professional settings, porcelain's elegance and durability might justify the higher investment.

Maintenance Requirements: Both materials require careful handling, but porcelain's density makes it more resistant to staining and easier to clean. Ceramics might require more attention to prevent water absorption and staining, particularly in unglazed areas.

Environmental Conditions: If the items will be exposed to outdoor conditions or extreme temperature changes, porcelain's superior durability and lower water absorption rate make it the better choice. Ceramics are more susceptible to damage from freezing temperatures and moisture.

Final Thoughts

Understanding the differences between ceramic and porcelain empowers consumers to make informed decisions based on their specific needs and circumstances. While ceramics offer charm and affordability suitable for casual settings, porcelain's durability and refinement make it ideal for more formal or professional applications.

As manufacturing techniques continue to evolve, the line between these materials may become increasingly blurred. However, their distinct characteristics ensure that both ceramic and porcelain will maintain their unique places in our homes and workplaces. Whether you are selecting items for personal use or choosing corporate gifts, considering these five key differences will guide you toward the perfect choice for your specific needs.

Remember that quality varies significantly within both categories, and reputable manufacturers often provide detailed specifications about their products' composition and performance characteristics. By carefully considering your needs against these five fundamental differences, you can make choices that will serve you well for years to come.

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Garden Shed Inspiration: Modern, Rustic, and Vintage Designs

A Garden Shed enhances your outdoor area both appealingly and practically. A garden shed can reflect your personal style while also improving the general attractiveness of your garden whether you want modern polished beauty, old nation rustic charm, or a sentimental vintage feel. To ignite your imagination and change your outdoor environment, let's look at the top design ideas from contemporary, rustic, and vintage styles.

Modern Garden Shed Designs: Minimalism Meets Functionality

Contemporary garden sheds value functionality, clean lines, and simplicity. These plans are ideal for people who value modern aesthetics and practical space use.

Elegant and Simple

Many times a contemporary garden shed has minimalistic style and geometrical patterns. Think smooth surfaces, flat roofs, and a monochromatic color palette. Typically, materials such metal and glass are used to create the shed's stylish and ultramodern appearance. Combine this with LED lighting and clever storage ideas for more functionality.

Rustic Garden Shed Designs: Embracing Warmth and Nature

Beyond simply storage facilities, modern sheds frequently serve as creative areas, yoga studios, or home offices. Including big windows or sliding glass doors lets a great amount of natural light in, which helps to make the inside functional and welcoming. Including a green roof or vertical garden will help your shed feel more environmentally friendly.

Vintage Garden Shed Designs: Nostalgia Meets Elegance

For a contemporary look with some punch, think about industrial inspired decorations. Exposed metal, tough black frames, and concrete walls can help to give an urban sophistication. Combine this with minimalist outdoor furniture to achieve a consistent appearance that complements a modern garden design.

Rustic Garden Shed Concepts: Celebrating Nature and Warmth Rustic sheds create a warm, country feel that fits perfectly with the environment. These styles would excellent appeal to people who like earthy colors and comfortable, cosy ambience.

Ilex Sheds—{EIF|More Natural Sheds— A vintage wooden shed is as rustic as anything could possibly be. Choose reclaimed wood for an organic and environmentally friendly touch. Enhance the wood's natural grain with a protecting finish to stop weather damage and keep it seen. Use wooden planters or a climbing vine to link the building naturally into your yard.

Country style aesthetic. With barn style doors, a pitched roof, and quaint shutters, rustic garden sheds can be designed to simulate a farm house. Farmhouse appeal is enhanced by a soft, subdued colors scheme like light blues, grays, or whites. Complete the exterior design by adding potted flowers, lanterns, and a small seating area.

Stone And Timber Blend For an authentic rustic feel, include timber and organic stone in your shed design. Stone walls or highlights can give a distinctive texture as well as sturdiness; wood components maintain the house warm and cozy. A little porch or overhang can help the shed have a storybook feel.

Vintage garden shed ideas: elegance meets nostalgia Classic garden sheds lend any garden timeless charm and personality. These styles are ideal for people who appreciate antiqueinspired beauty thanks to their complex details and sentimental qualities.

Sheds Inspired by the Victorian Era

A classic Garden Shed Base with Victorian touches could carry you into a different time. Seek for ornamental trim, arched windows, and a pitched roof among other style elements. Soft pastel tones, like lavender or mint green, may help to create the vintage ambiance. Add anti que style outdoor seating or a vintage bench close by to complete the appearance.

Shabby Chic Elegance

For sheds inspired by vintage, shabby chic is quite common. Paint softly distressed finish in white or pastel colors on the structure for an aged, weathered appearance. For a bit of sophistication, adorn interior with vintage objects like wrought iron accents, lace curtains, and an antique chandelier.

Repurposed Materials

Reusing materials is a clear characteristic of vintage design. Repurposing old windows, doors, and even corrugated metal can help you to build a one of a kind shed. Not only do these symbols provide personality, but they also narrate a story. Encircle the shed with an unique collection of flowers and plants to create a relaxed garden escape.

Tips for Choosing the Perfect Garden Shed Style

Think about the theme of your garden: Your shed should match the general design of your garden. Modern sheds are perfect in a minimalist or city garden, for instance, whereas a rural shed fits a more natural wood land inspired environment.

Size and Location: Choose one that fits without cluttering the garden space. Place the shed where it beautifies the garden as well as conveniently reachable.

Material Selection: Several tones mate well with particular materials. Rustic sheds prefer wood and stone; modern ones usually use glass and metal; older ones benefit from repurposed materials and elaborate features.

Personalize your shed with paint, ornaments, and landscaping choices. Small touches can have a major effect from hanging lights to flower boxes.

Conclusion

More than simply a utility area, a garden shed may be a decorative and practical element that improves your outdoor living. Whether you prefer the chic and modern, the warm and rural, or the delightful and vintage style, there is a garden shed model to suit your preferences and requirements. Selecting the proper materials, finishes, and ornamental elements will give you a shed that not only fulfills its function but also become the main attraction of your garden.

So, what is your favorite style? Today, start designing your dream garden shed and see how your outside area becomes a real paradise of inspiration and creativity.