#the waves. sometimes its shallow sometimes its deep

[giveafike]

One where Jude and his girlfriend/wife go for a swim and she‘s scared? Thanks!

TLDR: Wife!reader x JudeBellingham on holidays, but he doesn't know about your fears.

Word count + info: 2.3k! Blurb! Tiny bit of Spanish incorporated, some dialogue too : )

Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW! Mention of Thalassophobia + a panic attack, if that is a trigger, proceed w caution!! Otherwise, nothing more : ).

Azzie Notes ✚: HI!! First ever Jude ask here! I'm sorry it took me a while to get around to this req, anon! I hope I did it justice for you, I was struggling with writer's block for this prompt for some time, thinking how to flesh it out.

Also, I made a twitter ( @azziegivesafike !!) Feel free to follow and msg me about non requests there, I'll be posting life updates, story + req updates and spoilers/teasers alongside other things, so it'd be nice to have a community over there!

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Waves - J.B.

The sun hung high and lazily over the quiet Mediterranean countryside, casting long shadows on the rolling hills of olive trees and wildflowers. You and Jude had stolen away from the world, far from the roars and pressures, to a little coastal town where time felt like it had slowed down and life felt more gentle. Jude’s off-season was sacred, a time for just the two of you, to reconnect without the distractions of football, press, and the ever-present hum of expectations. No obligations. No noise. Just love.

It wasn’t out of character for Jude to plan some sort of surprise during your time together. Sometimes it was a romantic dinner; other times, it was a helicopter ride over a city. But this time, he had gone a step further, maybe even a step in the wrong direction.

You walked hand in hand down to the dock, the scent of saltwater thick in the air. Jude was rambling on, his voice bright with excitement. He had planned a surprise: a yacht, just for you two, to spend the day on the open sea. His voice lilted with that familiar Birmingham cadence, thick and warm like the breeze that carried your laughter.

“I’m tellin’ ya,” he said, his eyes glimmering as he spoke. “Pre-season training camp’s gonna be intense, but I’m already buzzin’ for it. New lads seem sound, and we’ve got a proper chance at the title this year.” His hand squeezed yours as you neared the marina, the glint of the water stretching endlessly ahead. “But none of that matters now. Today, it’s just you and me.”

You smiled at him weakly, though your heart had already started its familiar, uneasy thud in your chest. The yacht, sleek and pristine, bobbed gently on the water. All you could see was the endless expanse of ocean beyond, that shimmering surface stretching far beyond the horizon.

You had been trying to get better, to be better, to manage your fear. But this was a step far out of your comfort zone. You're not really sure what or when your fear of water had really sunk into you but all you could remember was that prickly, hot, sickly feeling when you stood near a deep pool or saw videos of massive waves engulfing everything around it. The anxiety is all too familiar, the numbness in your body taking over each time.

With Jude, you’d started dipping your feet into pools, sometimes even wading up to your hips, standing at the shallow end of Jude’s villa pool in Spain. But that had taken everything, deep breaths, quiet pep talks, and the promise that you were safe. It made you feel awful seeing Jude splash around, wide-smiled and unafraid, while you sat by, fearing you might accidentally fall into the pool if you dangled too far in. You felt as though you might even hold him back in that sense. You had convinced yourself that in this bubble with Jude and his quiet and still pool, you were secure and okay.

But here, staring at the open sea, none of that safety was present. Still, Jude’s excitement was infectious, his beaming smile too bright to dim with your fears, his big brown eyes shining. You bit your lip, your fingers twitching in his as your pulse began to race.

Jude caught up in his excitement had barely noticed. He was a great husband, always attentive but his excitement overcame was overcoming all his senses and thoughts.

“Just wait ‘til we’re out there,” he said as you boarded the yacht, the sun catching the sea in dazzling shards of light. “You’ll love it. The water’s clear, you can see the coral and fish. It’s so perfect. No one or nothing around, just us.”

You stepped aboard, the fabric of your sundress flowing in the salty breeze, trying to focus on his voice, his plans for the afternoon, his talk of peace and quiet. But as the boat moved further from the dock, the tether to the land slipped further from view, replaced by the endless, glassy water that stretched on all sides. The small town grew minuscule in the distance as if it was swallowed entirely by the rippling waves.

The boat stopped near a small private swimming spot, the crystal-clear water below revealing hints of vibrant coral and fish darting below the surface. You could see Jude’s eyes light up as he gazed down at the water, his joy palpable. He blabbered on about all sorts of fish he could see, how quick they were, how clear the water was; all of it wasted on your deaf ears as you tried to slow your breathing for the umpteenth time. You could barely nod along, but your heart now thundered in your chest, trying desperately to ground yourself in the conversation.

“Uh-huh, and what’s the coral like? Pretty?” you forced out, voice thin and tight.

Jude grinned, already pulling off his shirt, his skin gleaming in the sunlight. “Yeah, proper beautiful down there. You’ve gotta come in with me, babe. You’ll love it.” He gestured to the water as he stood on the edge of the boat, his excitement undiminished. “Look how clear it is!”

You gently rose and glanced down at the water, the clarity revealing the depths below, a whole world of coral, fish, and sand. Your breath caught.

How far down does it go? What’s lurking beyond what you can see?

The distance between you and the ocean floor felt infinite as you stood a few steps from the edge, a chasm of the unknown. You tried to distract yourself, to hold onto the sound of Jude’s voice.

“I think I’ll stay here,” you called back, your voice small, like it might shatter if you pushed too hard. “I’m good on the boat.”

But Jude had already dived in, his sleek form cutting through the water, disappearing for a moment before resurfacing with a joyful whoop. He tread water effortlessly, his laughter echoing across the calm sea. “Babe, you’ve gotta feel this, it’s like bathwater! Perfect day for a swim!”

Your stomach churned as you watched him, so comfortable in a place that made you feel so small. The water cradled him, bright and blue and endless, while you stood on the deck, now tiptoeing towards the edge, gripping the railing like it was your last anchor to safety. Your knuckles were white and your hands clammy as you peered down. The gentle sway of the boat beneath your feet seemed to pull you toward the water, a slow, inevitable tug that made your head spin. It was almost as though it was mocking you, the waves teasing you, the fish swimming in hypnotic patterns to try to pull you to them, the gentle waves hitting the boat as a threat; it was far too much stimulation.

Your thoughts became your enemies. That clear water, once serene, now felt like a mouth, gaping wide, ready to swallow you whole.

It’s so deep. The ground’s gone. You’re so far from land.

You tried to push the thoughts away, focusing on the warmth of the sun, the distant cry of a seagull. But the waves inside your head began to build, crashing over your mind in relentless surges.

Your pulse skyrocketed, your heart pounding like a drum inside your chest, each beat louder, more frantic. Your breath quickened, short, gasping. The air around you thinned, each inhale shallower than the last. You felt that bundle of knots twisting painfully, feeling sickly and disgusting inside, the feeling of sweat prickling against your skin, tears burning your eyes. The sounds around you went mute as your ears rung loud; you knew full well what was coming.

The boat, once a place of peace, now felt like it was moving beneath you, rocking harder, tipping you toward the water. Your grip on the railing tightened, your knuckles bone white, but the world blurred as though the sun itself had turned against you. It was too bright. The horizon was too far. Everything spun as if the boat was dissolving into the sea.

“Jude...” The word barely left your throat, choking on the tightness that had coiled around your chest. When you moved, your legs gave way, useless, wobbling like they no longer belonged to you.

You’re going to fall if you stay standing here. You’re going to drown.

Panic seized you.

It crashed into you like a tidal wave, slamming you against the rail, knocking the breath from your lungs. You staggered, your knees giving out, collapsing onto the deck, falling onto the small step rather than off the boat. Your chest heaved as you gasped for air that wouldn’t come, the world shrinking to nothing but the wild, frantic roar inside your own head. The sensation was like drowning, without ever touching the water. You crawled and wobbled to the sunbed, digging your nails as you landed your hands on it. Your limbs were heavy and useless like they were trapped under an invisible current, the weight of it pulling you under.

Your cries felt muffled, swallowed by the sea of your mind. The world spun violently. Your vision blurred, darkening at the edges as your throat burned, air refusing to fill your lungs. The boat swayed, or maybe it was just you, thrown again and again against an invisible tide, your body curling in on itself. Your hair stuck to your face, tangled, distorting your vision as if the water had already risen up to surround you. You could feel it, cold, wet, suffocating, pressing in from all sides. Your limbs felt like dead weight, too heavy to move, too weak to fight.

You were drowning. Drowning on dry land.

The harder you fought to breathe, the more your chest constricted, the pressure unbearable, your vision narrowing to nothing but the dark tunnel in front of you. You couldn’t see. Couldn’t focus. Couldn’t breathe. The sound of your own gasps filled your ears, and the world dissolved into nothing but the relentless, terrifying roar of the panic gripping you.

Jude’s laughter stopped, his voice barely piercing through.

“Babe?”

His voice felt so distant, a muffled echo in the chaos of your mind. You barely registered the splash of water as he pulled himself back onto the boat, the pounding of his footsteps as he rushed toward you.

“Hey, hey, love, I’m here. I’m right here.”

His hands found your face, cupping your cheeks with the warmth you desperately needed. His voice, once carefree, was now a steady anchor in the storm thrashing through you. He wiped away the tears you hadn’t even realised were falling, his thumb brushing your skin with gentle strokes.

“Shh, it’s okay, cariño. You’re okay. Breathe with me, yeah? Just breathe.” His forehead pressed gently against yours, grounding you, bringing you back to something real.

Your lungs ached, your chest still tight, but you fought to follow his words.

Breathe. Just breathe.

You struggled to match the slow, steady rhythm of his breath. His chest rose and fell against yours, a steady, calming presence. Slowly, painfully, your breath began to slow, the sobs leaving your mouth, the grip around your lungs loosening little by little.

“Eso es, my love,” he murmured, his lips brushing soft kisses across your forehead, through your hair. “You’re alright. I’ve got you.” His hands stayed steady on your face, never leaving, his voice a constant, unwavering presence, pulling you back from the edge. He swept your hair back, away from your face, rubbing circles on your back.

“I-I didn’t know that you were scared of- well I-,” he whispered, the guilt heavy in his voice. “I wish I had known. I should’ve known. God, I would never put you through something like this,” His voice cracked, and he hugged her tightly, pulling her against him, his arms wrapping around her like a shield. “I didn’t see it. I really didn't know. I’m so sorry, cariño. I should’ve seen it.”

She let out a shaky breath, her body still trembling, but the worst of the panic had ebbed, her head resting against his shoulder, safe in the circle of his arms. She could feel the regret and sadness in every breath he took, his chest rising and falling with the weight of it.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I never knew how...” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “I didn’t want to ruin it for you, you were so excited, Jude.”

“You could never ruin anything for me,” he said softly, his lips brushing her temple. “Never. If I’d known, I would’ve never brought you out here, love. I’m such an idiot.” He kissed the top of her head, squeezing her tighter. “I should’ve realised. I was too caught up in everything…”

For a long moment, they stayed like that, her breathing finally steady, the calm returning as she clung to him, his solid, comforting presence pulling her back to herself. He kept whispering soft reassurances, holding her close until the panic had all but faded, replaced with the warmth of his embrace.

After a while, Jude pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and spoke softly. “I’m taking us back to land. Somewhere small, quiet, just us. Somewhere with your feet on solid ground, yeah?”

She nodded, breaking a small smile while tears still clung to her lashes, but she felt safe. “Somewhere dry would be nice.”

He smiled, kissing her one last time before getting up. “No more surprises, I promise. There's a little village close by, waiting for just the two of us.”

As the yacht turned back toward land, the pier coming into view in the distance, she knew that with Jude by her side, she could face anything.

[valkyriexo]

Hey Val

Can you please write about Chan comforting you during a thunderstorm? I have a fear, and sometimes I think it's really stupid, but I think Chan would be so comforting? thank u!!

You're Scared of Thunderstorms | Bang Chan

ᑉ³pairing; Bang Chan x Reader

ᑉ³genre; Fluff

ᑉ³warnings; Thunderstorms, Anxiety

ᑉ³Authors Note; Hope you all enjoy :) thank you for the request!

It was a quiet, peaceful evening. You were nestled comfortably in your bed, the soft glow of the television casting a warm light across your cozy bedroom. The rain pattered gently against the windows, creating a soothing backdrop to your movie night.

Your bedroom was your sanctuary. The walls were painted a soft, calming color, and your bed was piled high with plush pillows and a thick, fluffy comforter. You had a cup of hot cocoa on your bedside table, its warmth radiating through the mug.

You were watching your favorite feel-good movie, a romantic comedy that never failed to lift your spirits. The lead had just confessed his love for the girl in a beautifully lit park, and you couldn’t help but smile at the screen.

Just as the movie reached a heartwarming climax, the power suddenly went out. The television screen went dark, and the room was plunged into darkness. The comforting hum of the appliances ceased, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt a wave of unease wash over you.

Moments later, a loud crack of thunder split the air, followed by a flash of lightning that illuminated the room for a split second. The storm had arrived in full force, and you hadn't checked the weather. Your pulse quickened, and a wave of panic surged through you. You pulled the comforter up to your chin, trying to calm your racing heart, but the ominous rumbling and flashes of lightning outside only intensified your anxiety.

The house, which moments ago had felt like a safe haven, now seemed oppressive and dark. Each burst of thunder resonated through the walls. You tried to take deep breaths, but each one felt shallow and ineffective. Memories of past storms played in your mind—times when the thunder seemed endless, when you felt helpless and small against the raging elements.

Your fear of thunderstorms had roots deep in your childhood. You remembered one night in particular, when a fierce storm had knocked out the power for hours. You had been alone, hiding under your bed, every thunderclap feeling like it would shatter the world around you. Even now, as an adult, the raw terror of those nights lingered, resurfacing with every storm.

Another crash of thunder jolted you, and you found yourself trembling uncontrollably. The flashes of lightning seemed almost to mock your fear, each one revealing the room in stark, harsh relief before plunging it back into darkness. You felt trapped, as though the storm was pressing in on you from all sides, leaving no escape.

You tried to focus on the small, comforting details of your room—the scent of lavender, the softness of your pillows—but it was no use. The storm was all-consuming. Tears formed at the corners of your eyes, and you fought the urge to cry. 

Just then, you noticed a flash of light, but this time it wasn't from the storm—it was from your phone. You picked it up with shaking hands and saw a series of messages from Chan.

You took a deep breath, feeling a small surge of comfort from his concern. With trembling fingers, you typed a response.

You took a deep breath, trying to focus on Chan's words. The memory of that day in the kitchen brought a small smile to your face. You remembered the warmth of his arms around you, the sweet scent of cookies baking, and the sound of your laughter mingling with his. It was a happy, safe memory. But another loud thunderclap quickly snuffed out any relief you felt.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt paralyzed with fear, unable to move or think clearly.

Your phone buzzed again, the screen lighting up with another message from Chan.

You hesitated for a moment, your hands trembling, before finally pressing the call button. The phone rang twice before Chan's voice came through, calm and reassuring.

"Hey, baby, it's okay. I'm right here," he said softly.

"Chan," you whispered, your voice shaking.

"I'm coming over," he said firmly. "I can't leave you alone like this."

"But what about your dinner plans?" you asked, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and guilt.

"They can wait. You're more important," he replied without hesitation.

"No... Please don't cancel your plans because of me," you said, your voice wavering as you tried to sound brave. "It's gonna make me feel worse. It's just raining... It's just rain... I can do this." The words felt hollow, but you forced them out, shaking with fear. "I can be alone... Go with your friends."

Another super loud thunderclap struck, reverberating through the house and shaking the walls. You shrieked in fear, tears streaming down your face as you clutched the phone tighter, your whole body trembling.

"Baby, I know you're scared," Chan's voice was filled with concern. "I promise you're safe. It's just a storm, and you're inside. Nothing's going to happen to you."

"But the house is shaking," you cried, your tears blurring your vision as the fear threatened to overwhelm you.

"I know it's scary, but I swear you're safe. Just hang on a little longer. I'm almost there," he reassured you, his voice steady and comforting. "Just keep talking to me. You're doing great. Remember, it's just a storm. You're safe inside."

Another crash of thunder made you flinch, and you felt tears falling from your eyes. "I can't... I can't do this," you choked out.

"You can, baby. You're so strong, and I'm so proud of you. Just a little longer, okay? Remember when we went to that carnival, and you were so scared to go on the Ferris wheel? But you did it, and we had the best time. This is just like that. You can do this," Chan said, his voice gentle and encouraging.

The minutes stretched on like hours as you waited, every crash of thunder making you jump. You tried to focus on Chan's voice, his calm, steady words keeping you tethered as the storm raged outside.

"I'm going to use the spare key to come in, okay? Don't be scared. It's just me." Finally, you heard the sound of the front door opening and closing. Relief washed over you as you realized Chan was here. You heard his footsteps coming down the hallway, and then he was there, standing in the doorway of your bedroom, his presence instantly calming you.

Without hesitation, Chan sprinted across the room and scooped you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest. "It's okay, baby. I've got you," he murmured.

You clung to him, burying your face in his chest as the tears flowed freely. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your cheek was grounding, and you felt the storm's hold on you beginning to loosen.

Chan kissed the top of your head and rubbed your back in slow, comforting circles. "I'm here now. You're safe. Nothing can hurt you when I'm with you," he whispered, his breath warm against your hair.

Another clap of thunder rumbled through the house, but this time, it felt distant, less threatening with Chan's arms around you. He rocked you gently, his presence a fortress against the storm.

"Listen to me, baby," Chan said, his voice right by your ear. He tilted your head slightly so his mouth was close to your ear, and you could feel his breath against your skin. "Focus on my voice. Just listen to me." His words were deliberate, each one spoken to cover the sound of the thunder.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I'm sorry, Chan. This fear is so stupid. I shouldn't have pulled you away from your friends."

"Hey, hey," Chan interrupted gently, his voice soft and filled with love. "Don't apologize. This isn't stupid. Your feelings are never stupid."

"But I—" you started to say, but he shushed you softly.

"Shh, listen to me. There’s nothing to be sorry about," he reassured you. "I love everything about you. Your fear of thunderstorms doesn’t change that. It’s part of who you are, and I love every part of you."

Another roll of thunder echoed outside, but Chan’s voice kept you anchored. "I love how you light up when you talk about your favorite books. I love how kind you are to everyone, even strangers. I love your laugh, your smile, the way you make me feel when I’m around you."

His voice was steady, filled with a sincerity that melted your anxiety. "I love how you make me cookies when I've had a long day, how you remember the little things that make me happy. You make my life so much better just by being in it."

"I love how brave you are," he whispered, his lips close to your ear. "Even when you don't feel it, you’re stronger than you know."

You gripped onto his shirt for dear life, your fingers clutching the fabric as if it were a lifeline. You nodded against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

"I’m here, baby," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "And I’ll always be here. You never have to face anything alone. Not thunderstorms, not anything. I love you, exactly as you are."

The storm outside continued, but with Chan’s arms around you and his loving words filling your ear, it felt like a distant worry. You snuggled closer to him, feeling the warmth of his love and the safety of his embrace.

"I'm so lucky to have you," you whispered back, your voice filled with gratitude.

"And I'm lucky to have you," Chan replied, his voice full of warmth. "Now and always."

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[withoutyouimsaskia]

Sometimes It's Fated (Sandman Short Story Part 6)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 7 | Part 8

GIF: Originally posted by @harleytudinous

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader

Summary: Reader Self-Insert. After restoring the Dreaming and locating the missing dreams and nightmares, Morpheus turns his attention to finding you, the human he believes fate has chosen for him. (Title inspired by Placebo's "This Picture".)

Warnings: Minors DNI. Dark!Morpheus. Soulmates. Angst. Obsessive and possessive behaviour. Nudity. Language. Mentions of sex.

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Hello there! We're back in Morpheus' POV for this chapter. I've really enjoyed exploring the softer side of Morpheus with the aftercare but still keeping that foreboding undertones. Hope you like it too. Let me know what you think! All my love, Saskia xx

Sandman Masterlist

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Morpheus can see he has pushed your body to breaking point.

The only movements you are able to make are those that are involuntary. The intake of breath, sharp and shallow. The blink of eyelids, slow and drowsy. And the aftershocks feathering along the walls that still hug his softening cock.

The rapture of his own high vibrates in every cell, the humanoid form he takes being the epicentre, with waves of it expanding out across the expanse of the Dreaming, bathing it all in euphoria. He smiles faintly - anyone asleep during your union would have been privy to it in some aspect. Flashes of noises and sensations perhaps, or images of you entangled with him.

With a tender gaze, he looks at your exhausted form. He takes time to notice the details that others might have overlooked. The gradient of the dip of your navel. The vellus hair gracing your skin. The delicate lines on your face brought on by years of smiles. Every inch of you is perfection, the starshine streaming down enhancing your already incandescent air. Soulmate or not, you are the most remarkable person he has met.

There is no denying that you are to be his muse. Now that he has introduced you to his world he can resume work on creating new dreams, and your temperament and features are inspiring him already. His dreamers will be spoiled once the concepts are given life and sent forth into the Dreaming.

He is pulled away from observing your body by the sudden overflowing of silent tears. In the glow of the room, as they track down your cheeks, their lustre is like pearls washed up on a lonely seashore.

He's searching your expression for an indication to the source before they get close to wetting the sheets, cupping your face instinctually as feverous fear infects him. Is pain afflicting you?

His initial assessment gleans that they are falling despite there being no tangible signs of pain or sorrow, anger nor disgust. Further investigation is required.

He drops his register to the mellowest he can manage, whispering your name first, next asking, "Are you alright?"

You dip your chin in a solitary nod. A truthful nod.

You then take a deep breath, voice hoarse as you speak, "I just -"

Words fail you and you look down at your chest in lieu of finding the desired descriptors, hoping that he would catch on.

Your soul.

You make a little high-pitched sound in the back of your throat as he places a palm over its housing. Still very sensitive. With good reason.

Those last layers of defences that had been protecting you from the intensity of the soul bond had been steadfast in their resistance. Of course, they were never going to prevail over him, being the Endless that he is, yet the challenge could not be denied.

And now the conquest was over. He had you exactly where he wanted; physical form in the Dreaming, the Fates' prophecy fulfilled, soul tie complete.

He zeros in on your soul, using his aptitude for the metaphysical to see it in its actual form. The ball of light, two centimetres in diameter, that not too long ago was shattered, now criss-crossed with threads of rich blue, reminiscent of Kintsugi pottery. A mark of the small amount of his power - power that he'd quite literally fucked into you, that was slowly spreading out from your soul through your body, altering as it went. Only time would tell as to what enhancements it would bring if any.

His own soul was cleaved open at the end too, now infused with your essence; twines of seafoam green that he can feel rebalancing the constitution left so weary and depleted by his imprisonment.

It also appears that your mortality has been removed in the process; you are as eternal as he is now. He's against broaching this with you presently, feeling it would be misguided to do so. At this point in time you deserve the most diligent and gentle aftercare. It was your first time; you had trusted him with your wellbeing and that meant the moments after as well.

He will make his touches and movements so very delicate from here, continuing to keep his focus on your facial expressions and body language as much as possible.

Beginning with how he rises out of the position he had held over your body, giving him the ability to ease your crossed ankles out of the firm grip around his waist. Reluctantly, he withdraws himself from the warmth of your core, more trembles breaking free from the fluidity of the movement.

It makes you whimper loudly, the unintended stimulation and the way he guides your legs down to the mattress, as the recognition of how locked up your thigh and calf muscles are bark in your nerve endings.

"Would you allow me to clean you?" He asks, gesturing to the fluids that are now leaking from your cunt.

You seem surprised yet you agree nonetheless.

He conjures a bowl of water and a linen cloth, setting the former to the side of your right hip. The display has you propping yourself up on your forearms, fascinated by the shaping of form that comes so naturally to him. He moistens the fabric, pitter patters emanating erratically as he squeezes out the excess.

"I will stop if it is too much." A promise made while holding eye contact before beginning a gentle yet meticulous cleanse, re-dunking the cloth when needed.

Aside from a couple of flinches early on when he brushes over your clit, you cope with the touches very well, and Morpheus shows he acknowledges this in the murmured praises he looses with the completion of each swipe.

A stumble in your breathing has him stopping immediately though, drawing his attention to your startled face, eyes wide as you take in the pinkish tinge of colour in the water.

"Shit. I'm so sorry. I can finish taking care of it," your voice is warbled as you try and fail to close your trembling legs.

He puts a steady hand on your knee. "You have no reason to apologise."

A little dimple forms between your eyebrows, lips pulled thin by a grimace; evidently you are unconvinced.

"I want to take care of your needs. Please let me," he says with gentle candidness.

You blow out an unsteady breath as you struggle to look at him, attention darting all around the room, actively choosing to go anywhere but towards him.

These hallmarks of humiliation, vulnerability, they unreservedly rile him. Who had made you feel like this was unacceptable? No doubt your world's societal norms. Though Morpheus has seen improvements in them in recent years, there are lingering, foolish ideals on what was decorous when it came to the human body.

He relays his thoughts on the matter, "It is a natural occurrence, as natural as any other bleeding from broken skin. There is nothing to be ashamed of, Y/N."

He lets the reassurance settle in as he rubs his free hand up and down the outside of your left thigh.

"You know I speak the truth," he adds when you still remain silent.

Eventually you let your head slump back. "You're right."

His chest swells with pride at his successful reframing. "May I continue?"

You make a noise of affirmation.

Once he is done, the bowl and cloth de-materialise along with the patches of fluid that had been glistening on the sheets.

He leaves the space between your splayed legs, pausing as he kneels next you. You look like a ragdoll that has been dropped from a great height, limbs askew and head limp. He wishes to scoop you into his arms and re-arrange you, cocooning your beautiful body in the most luxurious fabrics his mind can create. So he does just that.

With a hand flat between your shoulder blades and another under your knees, he moves you to lay further up the bed, fashioning a sumptuous silk sheet to settle over you, a twin of the one tucked over the mattress. A knitted cashmere throw weighs down the sheet to seal in warmth. The last step is a plump pillow; he cradles your head carefully as he positions it.

"Thank you," you say shyly as he puts his head on an identical pillow, laying on his side so he can watch you.

"You are most welcome, my soulmate."

A beat. "Is there something I can do for you, Morpheus?"

He feels a thrill go through him, lust rising once more. Hearing his name on your lips is everything. Undoubtedly it always will be. He's instantly grappling with the urge to fuck you again and it is by sheer force of will he just manages to leash his lust.

"All I require is proximity to you," his words sounding much more gallant than he feels.

With visible effort, you roll onto your side, intent on providing him with delightful closeness despite the aches. Face to face, he decides now is time for a debrief.

"Is there anything you wish to discuss about the acts we performed together?"

You fiddle with your fingers, tentatively asking, "Did I do okay?"

The question is so endearing, it makes his chest tighten.

"Yes. You were, are perfection."

He catches the bashful glance your throw towards him and he draws even closer.

You had done so very well, taking everything in your stride since he found you in the waking world. Gone through a myriad of emotions, dealt with intense, sometimes painful physical reactions. And the sex... Well.

He runs a hand from your temple to jaw a few times to distract from the ever-mounting desires, thankfully taking the edge off with the affections.

"It is true. You are so trusting, communicative, generous. Receptive."

You huff out a noise of amusement. "How do you know that I wouldn't respond like that to everyone?"

Possessive jealousy drives a dagger into his heart, stiffening every part of his being, hackles rising as the sickening idea of anyone else touching you takes form in his expert imagination. Your question had been teasing - obvious from the impish quality in your eyes yet he cannot stop the rage that flares at the idea.

He extinguishes his temper, pushing it into the usual spot deep within, speaking with a level and authoritative cadence.

"You were not meant to be touched by anyone but me."

He holds your gaze resolutely, fascinated by how your pupils dilate from the covetous statement, fingers digging into the softness of your behind to add further weight to his claim.

"You derive pleasure from hearing me say that."

"Yes," you confirm, a telling half-smile appearing. "Though it would appear I am not the only one."

You nudge against the growing erection hidden by the sheets with your knuckles. The simple touch is a catalyst, his restraint almost breaking, eyes shifting to match the backdrop of the night sky above you both.

"Not right now," you assert.

His answering glare makes you raise your eyebrows. But you do not back down.

"Very well. I will keep myself contained. For the time being."

You press a sweet, quick kiss to his cheek. "I appreciate you enduring such hardship."

You laugh a little at the end of the teasing sentence. It is an effervescent sound, one that makes him feel so alive. When was the last time he truly felt like that?

He would do anything to keep you laughing like that, make you happy.

Inspired by that sentiment, he drapes an arm over your body and pulls you closer. You sigh in contentment, smiling warmly at him.

A crescent moon rises to accompany the stars in the ceiling sky. The slip of light it reflects is as peace-giving as your skin against his. Quiet descends.

Finally - after the frenzied events of the past couple of hours, the delirium that had ensnared the both of you in body and mind, spurring him to reveal the truth to you and initiate the binding of your souls - finally everything stills.

And in this stillness, after a considerable number of minutes, Morpheus begins to register the results of the soul bond between you; a direct line broadcasting your every emotion to him even though you are awake.

They are not particularly stable right now, kaleidoscopic in how quickly they evolve from one to the next. He is accustomed to knowing humanity's emotions, exposed to every facet of them for millennia yet this is different. With the dreamers there is a certain level of detachment. Being his soulmate, the impartiality is gone.

He is peering around the curtain.

And the emotions you are feeling are about him, directly influenced by him.

Exhilaration, fondness, trepidation, pensiveness.

His eyelids flutter at the intimacy, mouth dropping open with a shaky sigh.

"What is it?" You ask immediately as worry enters the mix. How adorable that your reflex was concern for him.

"Our soul bond is strengthening. I can feel your emotions."

You blink, stimulated by the notion first, then disappointed. "I can't feel anything coming from you."

"Give it time," he reassures.

"How much time?"

A little smile quirks his lips from your charming impatience.

"A few hours. Perhaps more."

Curiosity dances in your eyes as well as your mind; you study him closely, teeth nibbling on your bottom lip. "What's it like?"

"It is quite diverting."

In fact, it is the sort of thing that has potential to consume his every thought. He will have to be cautious of how much time he is dialled into the bond. As long as he makes the rules now then he will be okay. No over-use. No over-reliance.

A brush of fingers across the back of his hand, the inside of his wrist. "Tell me what you're feeling, Morpheus," you whisper.

He pulls himself from the compelling information flowing from you and takes a reading of his own internal state.

It's tempting to lay it all on the table. To tell you of the powerful emotional reactions happening. But he won't. The emotions must be compressed into something more regulated. He chooses the words carefully:

"I am wholly contented."

Joy and relief swirl from you and you kiss him. The softness of your lips help soothe the fierce feelings and when you part, Morpheus is fully reigned in.

He notes that your eyes are drifting now, glassy with oncoming sleep.

He rubs a thumb across your cheekbone.

"It is okay if you want to fall asleep," he murmurs. "My only request is that you permit me to hold you, so I may monitor how things progress."

There is much acclimation to be made. The scalding heat that had been rampant under his own skin has only just dropped to a simmer, let alone all the things to come. He must not leave your side until your body has adjusted to the energy within you.

"I wouldn't say no to sleep," you say with a lethargic smile.

He eases you into a nearer proximity. An arm slung across your middle. Legs tangling together. You nuzzle against the skin of his neck, inhaling deeply as if his scent could knock you right out.

"Good night, soulmate."

He kisses the top of your head, replying with the same.

You place a palm over his soul. "Thank you, Morpheus. For answering all my questions and being so patient with me."

"It is the least I can do, Y/N."

Morpheus keeps still as you sink into subconsciousness. Not a hard feat for him; he mastered that art long ago. Crossing the threshold into sleep is smooth for you, exhaustion efficiently picking the lock.

As soon as you are fully under he peers at you, cheeks already rosy from the warmth of the sheets and his body, lips parted. You appear serene on the surface - he decides to lean into that link one last time for tonight.

Yes. There it is. Evidence that you feel safe and happy. He has done his job well. Now to maintain this level of performance. For your sake as well as his own.

Your presence is the first rain after a drought. A lighthouse on a treacherous stormy night. You are an antidote to a poison that he hadn't realised he was choking on. You are healing him, just as he knew you would.

And there are measures that must be taken to keep it that way.

-------------------------------------

Tag list: @herfantasyworldd @kpopgirlbtssvt @littleblackcatinwonderland @1950schick @lollipopsandlandmines

"Controlling my feelings for too long. Forcing our darkest souls to unfold. Pushing us into self destruction. They make me, make me dream your dreams."

[thecatholicbozo]

Holy Silence in Daily Life

"Retirement is the laboratory of the spirit; interior solitude and silence are its two wings. All great works were prepared in the desert, including the redemption of the world." A.G. Sertillanges, OP, The Intellectual Life ================================================

I'm starting to realize I need to cultivate more silence in my life, especially in the evenings after work. I like staying productive, like listening to podcasts or lectures or audiobooks as I do chores or work on my hobbies, because I really do love learning (and it's a good way of making the chores more enjoyable).

But I think sometimes those things become a distraction if not done in moderation, even when they're beneficial & enjoyable. It takes me away from the task I am doing, as if my body was in one place & my mind was in another. It heightens a sense of "busy-ness" & being occupied, as if something has to always be happening.

Tonight, I was wrapping up some Warhammer painting when a chapter of an audiobook ended, and I chose to paint the remainder in silence, with just the noise of the crickets outside & my clock ticking. Those few minutes were profoundly refreshing, moreso than any of the things I was listening to (or even reading). It felt like I was so much more in the moment & open to God's activity than at almost any other point in the last couple of weeks. It felt like I was really engaged with Creation rather than merely "getting things done."

Abyssus abyssum invocat -"Deep is calling on deep in the roar of your waters, your billows and all your waves swept over me" (Ps 42:8). There's a real heaviness, a gravity to silence that I think draws us toward God & lets us be overwhelmed with him. When we strip away the rest of life's bustle & distractions, he is waiting in that raw & vulnerable silence. We find the clarity to remember the day's joys & sorrows, to pray for success in tomorrow's endeavors, to pray for our loved ones, and to just be comforted by God in that stillness. It's a reminder that ultimately, God is waiting for us, and reminds us of our purpose & mission as his creatures. And if there is still a busy-ness to our mind, I think silence makes it much more likely we find our way to moments of prayer & contemplation rather than pure distraction.

There's always a flood of new podcasts, album drops, sports broadcasts, and youtube videos to overwhelm our time & attention. But compared to God's majesty, they are just "shallow" calling upon us.

I hope y'all will join me in trying to be less "plugged in" / terminally online, and to try to sanctify some silence in daily life.

[alkaline-wtr]

ELEVATOR

Ghost x gn!reader

Description: Ghost and reader are neighbors who get stuck together in an elevator. Genre/Warnings: Ghost x reader, gn!reader, fluff, angst, a little hurt comfort, possibly enemies to lovers, imagine WC: 987

My Masterlist

**AN Good morning! Here's a little fluff, I don't exactly know if the genres I tagged it as fit, but either way i thought this piece was cute. Enjoy.

Ghost steps onto the elevator watching it close slowly, the doors are almost shut when he hears a voice.

"Wait!"

He peered through the two metal plates you come walking quickly down the hall.

Ghost lets out an irritated sigh realizing it's you.

You and Ghost were neighbors. Living on the same floor of the apartment building. For some reason, despite your efforts over the last year Ghost just didn't seem to like you. In fact, he despised you.

Ghost wasn't exactly sure what it was about you that made him dislike you so much. Maybe it was your intrusive nature.

You put your hand in between the doors causing them to retract.

"Good morning, Simon. How are you?"

You asked in a sweet voice as you stepped onto the elevator beside him.

"Fine."

Ghost grumbled in response. You smile back at him but there is a sadness in your eyes.

Ghost presses the button for the first floor. He is obviously in no mood for small talk.

The elevator begins its descent. A low hum emits from the fluorescent lights overhead. Filling the uncomfortable silence between you.

You're watching as the numbers go down when suddenly the elevator comes to a halt rumbling beneath your feet.

The first thought that comes to Ghost's mind is confusion. His hand reaches across you and taps the button a couple times.

You watch with wide eyes as Ghost fiddles with the buttons.

"We're not stuck, are we?"

Ghost's glares at you,

"Obviously." He snapped.

Normally the comment would have hurt you but all you felt at this moment was the rising panic at the realization of the situation.

Ghost sighs pulling out his phone. He immediately notices the absence of the little white bars on the top of the screen.

"No reception."

He states, holding his cell up in the air in an attempt to find a connection.

The pounding of your heart is like a drumbeat in your chest. The warm wave of the fear and adrenaline washing over you makes you feel disconnected. You don't hear Ghosts frustrated grunts.

You'd always had anxiety, and this was one of your biggest fears.

Ghost lowers his Phone and looks down to you.

"What?"

Ghost asks annoyed. Pure terror is apparent on your face.

"I-I just- This... has always been a fear of mine."

You stuttered.

His expression softens. Ghost was well aware of anxiety and the effects it can have.

"It'll be okay."

His attempts at reassuring you don't seem to work as your breathing grows shallower.

Instead of the usual irritation Ghost felt being in your presence, he felt sympathetic towards you. Understanding first-hand how you were feeling in this moment.

"I suffer from anxiety too sometimes."

His voice is soft, and you can see something in his eyes you never had before, vulnerability.

The momentary silence between you two is loud. Your eyes are locked with his before you finally speak.

"Simon?"

The words are soft. He looked at you expectantly.

"Why do you hate me so much?"

The whispered question hangs in the air. Ghost breathes out a sigh averting his eyes.

"I don't..."

He stops himself from answering and thinks. Ghost hadn't really had a reason. He just wasn't fond of you. His negative feelings were unjustified. As he thought back to all the previous interactions, he realized you'd never been anything but nice to him.

With the pain and hurt of his difficult past, He'd found it hard for him to tolerate your positive and bubbly attitude. He was hurting deep inside, and you only brought that to light.

The truth was you hadn't done anything wrong, Ghost just couldn't separate his feelings of frustration from his opinion of you.

"I owe you an apology, y/n. I've allowed my own frustrations to interfere with my behavior towards you. It is unfair, and you never deserved to bear the brunt of it."

You looked at him shocked by his words. Ghost didn't seem the type to apologize.

"Will you please forgive me?"

He asked. Ghost knew you had every right to turn him away. After the way he had treated you for so long, he didn't deserve your forgiveness.

As always you proved to be kindhearted with your generous response.

"Of course. We all have our struggles. I appreciate you being honest with me."

You smiled at him. Your smile seemed so genuine and pure.

"I know this may mean nothing but if I'm honest with you, I've always liked you."

Your admission takes Ghost by surprise. The truth of the matter was that you had feelings for Ghost for a while. By hanging around and being friendly you hoped he could eventually warm up to you. Although, it had all seemed stupid now, you should have just communicated.

Ghost searched your face for any indication of what you were thinking. He had no idea how to respond. So, he did the only thing that came to mind at the moment.

A rough hand grabs your cheek forcing you to face him. Ghost hovers his lips over yours for a moment a silent way of asking for your permission.

When you didn't pull away Ghost took that as an okay to continue. His plush lips brush against yours.

You stiffen in hesitation, unsure of your actions. This had been a moment you'd only dreamt of and now that it was happening you didn't want anything to mess it up.

Finally, you lean in, kissing him back.  laughing nervously, when he pulls away.

"I almost forgot that we are stuck in an elevator."

You whisper. Ghost chuckles to himself and glances around

"Oh yeah. We aren't we."

He leans across you and presses the emergency call button. As you're waiting for Ghost to find a solution to the situation you can't help but smile to yourself feeling giddy and excited about what is to come.

[tigerpearlsworld]

Pick a card

(deep in your soul who are you in core and what is your path)

Before you chose the cards know that this is a general pick a card and in this universe all the energies are different. you can only choose one card. this pick a card is meant for your soul not for you to resonate but for you to realize when you get the message and the truth. to pick the card you have to look for more then the image but you have to look for depth in each image. breathe in and breathe out, lit a candle, meditate and really feel the image and sense if you were not in your body but in the universe where would your soul be realistically. again its not about how you want to see, its about what your soul wants and when you feel the tug in your heart not your head know that its your card.

Sorry if my English is bad.

𝓣𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓮 𝔀𝓱𝓸 𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓲𝓵𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓼𝔀𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓵 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝔂 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓼 𝓫𝓮 𝓫𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓭 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓰𝓾𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓻𝓾𝓽𝓱.

Left to right :

pile 1 . pile 2 . pile 3

The reading starts...

Pile 1 :

(Healing,poems,sadness,withering,calling,acceptance,leaving)

Animal which came for you... Phoenix

Element which came for you... Fire and Water

Cards: (3 of cups, 7 of pentacles R x, ace of wands, 4 of cups, strength, the high priestess)

There is sadness a sense of loss. Deep in your soul I see you trying to dive deep but every time you do you're pushed back by life and its waves. I see restlessness you feel every time dread consuming you. At night it feels that you know something is missing but you don't like to feel and so you leave this feelings alone. I see the word which comes for you is " Deeper then you realize" yes that's you. you fail to understand yourself so people fail to understand you. you have good intuition and strength of mind but you have fears. I sense that your mind is blocked somewhere deep in your unconscious mind if it makes sense. I feel that your soul is very old and tired and that you were a victim in your past and even now. such tiredness such sadness yet you don't let it push you down you're relentless and even when you feel lonely you move again and again and again. you don't like to be too available but you crave freedom. I sense your heart is blocked too as you don't allow or maybe you try too but deep in your mind you chain yourself to suffering. it feels like you are trying to give justice to yourself from something you don't understand.

I see in the stars that you have been promised a house and a career. I sense that materially you will be always fulfilled now or later but in matters of heart, soul and tears you'll always be wounded and lost.

I see you in a boat alone trying to navigate your way but there is no light and sound and wind. that is where your soul feels you are. I see people show you illusions and try to take what is yours from you but you don't back down as you're strong. But I feel like you may have nightmares or bad dreams or even no dreams at all. But you feel in your heart that there is something empty. I see unlike your peers and people who always have it lucky ..from early on life your parent saw you as someone mature and you had responsibilities more then someone should have in your age. You feel as if people always ask you for guidance look at you as someone who has experience and know everything. sometimes you feel its unfair. you are also someone who has high standards and always in competition with others i see you're a jealous person and you like to have and be better then anyone. Emotionally in your present you are shallow and discontent, there is always a sense of rush in your mind towards everything weather it be goal, work or something....its always now or never. you cant rest because you are still tangled up in the veins of your punishment your mind punishes you for your past and it doesn't even lets you know or see your fault. it cages you.

the solution I see for you is to get in touch with your past and do fire rituals. Meditate on the fire to purify your mind. In this life your karma is to be mature and aware. Don't cage yourself in this loop of negativity but try to think and say good things. Do fire meditation or ritual before you sleep to get answers. feel that you're surrounded by love and light because I see many of your past people mainly ancestors are behind you in each step. Untangle yourself from the victimhood and destruction of your mind. Realize your full potential and you'll be unstoppable.

As i was channeling your energy this song came asking permission for your soul maybe you can resonate.

Pile 2 :

(Complain, voices, Lack, guardian, protected, Independent, Repent)

Animal which came for you.... Hawk

Element which came for you... Air and wood

Cards: (10 of swords, 10 of cups, page of cups, the world, the emperor)

Alice in the wonderlands is coming for you but also the story of red riding hood is coming.

I sense something is unforgivable and you live that unforgivable life. Maybe its something you had done or something done to you but you cant forgive. You're a stubborn soul who wont forgive and so even if you like to show yourself or others and tell that you don't focus on past but your path always leads you back to the past. your mind and heart always leaves you in lost . As because you don't understand what you want. you have so much potential to grow in ways you don't understand but your short coming is you're always lost as because you and your soul have different opinions and don't come in agreement as something is being rejected or hidden. You are realistic and you're skeptic I sense and that is your reality to always question and see things for what they are. you judge, yes. but you don't like to be judged. you have a ego problem too I see. And sometimes you chew more then you can swallow in that rage or moment of ego.

But I see you have talents and you garner jealousy from people if you realize or not. I can see in life you'll get many betrayals and experience many loss in terms of career, money, family, love, friendship. but something which you wont ever lose even if you try is you. and that is because even when you try to give up your stubborn soul doesn't lets you. you have a keen sense of knowing everything when you look at something or someone. your capability to sense danger or vibes which are off about people or situation is on point. you are a survivalist and you like to be prepared even if people say or see you as someone who is lazy but you work smart.

I see that you maybe popular or become popular in time. you may even have pets or be someone who advocates more for animals then fellow humans. "Antisocial and Watchful" is coming as words in my mind for you.

In your stars I see that you'll be given despair at one point of your life. unemployment and even homelessness is seen with poverty coming so strong. you will have to work hard and labor for each moment of life and suddenly I see that when your karma of repentance is complete YOUR STARS WILL GIVE YOU JUSTICE you'll be given a soul community of like minded people who feels like home and sudden wealth. I also see that your love life will blossom later in life but it will stick with you when it does happen. I also get a message for you "When you close your own seeing eyes and you trust your heart and the stars and let your hand be guided by the gods and the angel and you don't let past or doubt fill you in question but you're filled with peace, acceptance and forgiveness you'll meet your love" and your lover I can see will be a total angel who will always be with you and will always guide you towards light. just don't bring ego, independence and stubbornness. that is what I heard for you.

like i said early your word for you is repent and your soul wants to repent for something and its stubborn so till it repents it wont let you rest and will direct you back again and again to the past. and if you fight too much you'll lose.

I see you'll go through betrayals and even accidents where someone intentionally does bad to you but you'll survive and pick yourself up again. your key to success is to honor your past but not let it control you. you have to mine your way out towards a direction which is not in the same place or same thing you had previously done. you have to do something different and differently to get answers from your soul and the stars.

no one can control you, only you control yourself and in a way i feel that you already know that. you're a natural rebel and even may had bad relationship with authority figure and even your own father. you don't like to be controlled and told what to do as because you don't search for answers from others but from your self. you are an independent soul so you don't like when people are indecisive or change opinion or mind a lot. you are ride or die and loyalty is something huge for you. I also see that as you are so sure of yourself and independent in your thought and way of doing you may come in conflict with a lot of people. I'll tell you one thing your eyes are good and intuition is very on point. I see that you have the kind of eyes which See's through the facade of people and sometimes without even knowing the person and just by looking at them you can know what and how things will unfold with this person for you or others. Your eyes See's everything,every detail and you remember each and every word. but sometimes your all seeing eye and intuition can make you paranoid when you don't know how to use and so you may lose a lot of opportunities in life .Being independent is good but sometimes you should also lean on help that comes for you.

In this life to lessen your sorrow I see you must be more forgivable and also not come to conclusion about someone. I see that there is a lesson meant for you which is to be more social and accepting of people and their ways of doing things not everyone is perfect so let it rest and try to go on hike or walk in the nature when you feel restless or more chaotic. Doing more charity work or non profit work will also help you a lot in this life. To get less sorrows in life try to get blessings of people older and servants in your life.

This song was coming in my head for you as i was channeling your energy listen to the song maybe you can resonate.

Pile 3 :

(Distance, Travelling, Time, Healing, changes, Diet, path)

Animal which came for you... Lion

Element which came for you... Ether and fire

Cards: (Queen of wands, 5 of wands, 3 of wands, the hanged man, queen of pentacles)

The story which is coming for you in my head is Cinderella and the little mermaid.

you have the blessings of your ancestors, i see them blessing you and protecting you. there is this sense of stealth you have which always keeps you balanced and floating no matter what life throws at you. some call it luck but you know that its more then that.

what i sense for you is that your soul is someone who is strong and brave and someone who has mastered everything in the past life and so it feels confident and content within itself. for your soul freedom is the most important thing. i sense that you as an individual is someone with surreal themes of ultimate romance and tragic love where you want to be in love with the most pure form of love.

your soul doesn't allows you to get pin down by tradition and pushes you to be more then what is expected of you. sometimes you may come as aloof or hard to access to people and sometimes people may think you are submissive and a push over but those who know you close know how strong and spirited you are.

Even though your soul craves freedom sometimes you may panic not knowing your own path and may want others to decide, but whenever others decide for you.... it either bring bad fortune or you are discontent and do the opposite of what the person told you anyway.

i see you have a lot of competition in life and its not the kind of competition where you want to participate but the kind where you are forced to compete. you like to push your own limit and like to compete with yourself more then other. the idea of competition is something you may not like. i also see you waiting in life for something .... sometimes you may even dream about that certain something but what is coming for you is that rather then waiting for something to happen in life you should do more initiation in life. yes. initiation.

"a thought out action is better than a action with no thoughts", is the message coming from the ancestors towards you.

"know who you are and only accept things which are worthy to you"

i feel that there is two sides of you which comes like a tree which was planted and then it branched two different ways. i sense that as a kid you may have been very trustworthy and naive to the point of people abusing and using you and then suddenly something so major happened in life that you did not remain the same naive innocent person you once were. i sense there is a lot of traumatic experience you had to deal as a child and you had lots of hopes. i also sense for some not all that you family members abused you or controlled you , but you break free from them and moved away.

i see that you are someone who is very unorthodox and someone with a lot of alien fashion and thoughts in your head. you like to dream. you like art too. but you also are someone who is very scientific, like i said you have two face but its not a bad thing you learned that in life everyone wear mask. and although your small version would have disapproved as you were such a bundle of innocence and dreams but now its different.

you are someone who is full of beauty and also can be both a career woman and a house maker.

in your stars i see escapism and pleasure is coming for you, i sense that you have a lot going in your heart and head always and that you're someone who is very sensitive in your heart...empath to be precise so i would say don't try the shortcut and don't do drugs or alcohol it would severe your connection from your ancestor and your luck would lessen if you do. also i can see a major transformation happening in your life where once you may had been imprison for real in jail or in house through relationship i sense something traumatic is written in your life which would free you from that bondage of imprisonment and make you powerful. i also sense that you have lot of people trying to get your attention and fight for you in love and some of them can be as toxic as wanting to control you but don't falter and settle down. As the romance you crave you will find, yes true love that you have once dreamt or wished when young that wish will be fulfilled. I sense that your star is always helping you get to the right track in life and always shows you your true path, you are guided even when you think you're not. the stars has written that in your faith even when you feel lost you wont be. you are protected. also look for butterflies especially yellow once they may guide you sometimes.

In this life you must be true to you, your karma in this life is to transform. Its saying you must be careful in your words and action, more like be precise with them. Be mindful with your group of friends. To connect with your ancestors try to bath in the early sun light and do meditation.

No song came for you during my reading, sorry.

[fallingstarsandthemoon]

Cookie Run x MCYT AU-ANCIENTS, anybody?

Feel free to send in asks and requests for this AU alongside my other AUs! Fanart is welcomed WITH CREDIT!

This is a little creative project I’ve been working on for a couple months now, (I usually draw faster than that, but procrastination is a bitch and some of these were hard to design due to it being a stark contrast from the usual style I have,) but I’m proud I got the ancients out of the way, whom I decided would be OG MCYTs. Here are their mock in-game descriptions:

Diamond Cookie (DanTDM)- Perseverance:

In a dark, yet lively, effervescent cave leagues below the surface, a radiant diamond cluster, naturally forged by the thickest molten sugar and pressure to withstand almost anything, surfaced within the cave. Little did it know that it would become the main ingredient to a legend. Diamond Cookie sticks true to his resistant and valuable ingredients as well as the Soul Jam of Perseverance, believing if something isn’t working out, try, try again. As a  past scientist, engineer, adventurer, and now a hero, he’s had several mishaps and failures over the years, but he still picks himself up again and keeps moving, seeking to help inspire others to push forward and make something new out of the broken and old.

Even if he or everything he’s ever loved is crumbling around him, he’ll fight to the bitter end.

Berry Soda Cookie (LDshadowlady)- Empathy:

Among the shimmering sands, the vibrant coral reefs, and the open blue, there lives a guardian and a master of the waves and tides, wielding a glittering trident and the Soul Jam of Empathy. Berry Soda Cookie, baked with a myriad of berries and having lived on both land and sea, she has a vast understanding of other’s distress and feelings. If there’s worry or a change in the usual nature of her domain, she’ll be the first to know about it. She loves getting to know about every perspective and lifestyle she can. She has eyes all over the ocean wherever the light touches, from the shallows to the deep blue, and tends to act as a mediator in most situations. She’ll do everything she can to keep a stable balance. That is, until that fateful day that caused her to retreat into the darkest depths of the sea.

Will her soul ever see the light once more?

Golden Cream Cookie (Stampy)-Compassion:

Baked with the sweetest and richest of merengue and cream, Golden Cream Cookie has a compassionate spirit for his denizens like no other, hence his Soul Jam. While he can’t exactly read minds, he always does his best to help those in distress. After all, his kingdom among the plains and forest is known for their bustling trade of goods and services. Despite being a king, he’ll help those communities in even the lowest of classes. He does have a tendency to overwork himself or sometimes misinterpret the cookies’ needs, but it doesn’t change the fact that he has a heart of gold. He promotes mutualism and color in life and strives for himself and others to leave Earthbread better than they came. He forgives many for their wrongdoings and does his best to guide them to fix it.

Even so, there’s always the hard truth to face that he can’t help or forgive everyone.

Cherry Choco Cookie (Captain Sparklez)- Harmony:

There stands a calm, solid, rhythmic presence at the center of the Chocolate Citadel. With a rose golden crown adorning his head and his Charred Cherryblade by his side, Cherry Choco Cookie firmly believes there’s harmony and unity in all things, hence his Soul Jam of Harmony. Where there’s chaos? There’s order. Where there’s death, life is sure to come in its steed. He was baked with the sweetest cherries and the most bitter cacao after all. In a way, it’s a miracle how he worked his way up from being just some bard to an expert swordsman and a king. He’s a soul of few words, but he means well, and he’s just as musically inclined as most of his kingdom.

Where has this sovereign of harmony gone? What has he seen?

Pure Iris Cookie (Aphmau) - Creativity:

There’s nobody who understands the diversity of talent more than the bold and energetic Pure Iris Cookie. Born from the petals of a perfect iris at the rebirth of summer, she started out as a simple mage who encouraged cookies to forge their own paths. She believes everyone has something they’re good at, no matter how common or rare, and that anything can be made into something special. No wonder her garden kingdom was a capital of the arts in Crispia. All cookies have to do is find their spark, which can be easier said than done at times, but the end result is what matters. She’d give anything to get the same glory of her old kingdom back… whether it be the petal feathers off her back or her own life…

She won’t fail them again. Over her crumbled dough and withered petals.

[imsuperhungry]

lust (yandere! ocs x reader)

Y'know, being perceived as innocent has its perks sometimes...

Take the present moment as an example: no one is even considering the possibility that you might be guilty. Your façade is so convincing that, despite any underlying doubts or suspicions, everyone remains completely assured of your innocence. They see only the mask you've meticulously crafted, unaware of the inner conflict and hidden truths you grapple with.

You were seen as a guardian angel in your small community, always helping the elderly, spreading kind smiles, and supporting the local bakeries.  Your unwavering dedication to lending a hand and brightening others' days earned you deep respect and affection

People adored you. You were greeted with smiles, waves, and hugs, and even received flowers! Your sweetness was renowned—how you consistently prioritized others' needs over your own, and how you maintained your kindness even in the face of the most difficult and unpleasant individuals.

But it was all just a façade, a persona you had to construct to endure. They were oblivious to how you rolled your eyes and discarded the flowers without a second thought. They didn't see the revulsion in your gaze whenever someone touched you, nor did they notice how your eyes constantly scanned the surroundings after you fed, vigilant to ensure no one could ever accuse you.

But you were the one responsible for it all—the blood, the bite marks, the slashes, the guts scattered everywhere. Every gruesome detail, every wound, every drop of spilled blood traces back to you, the horror in those eyes, the silent screams echoing in the void—it's all because of you.

But you can't be blamed. This was something you had to do, just as humans must eat to survive—you needed to feed, too. It was an instinct, a necessity that drove you, something beyond your control. The hunger inside you demanded it, pushing you to act, to hunt, to consume. Survival, after all, is a primal force, and you were merely following the path laid out for you, no different from any other creature driven by the need to sustain itself.

Sure, eating people wasn't exactly socially acceptable, but who was going to stop you? You were powerful, and you knew it. The rules of society meant nothing when you held all the power, and with every ounce of strength you possessed, you could defy them all. 

You could easily brush off any accusations thrown your way, thanks to the unfortunate reality of pretty privilege.

Humans were strange—why did appearances matter so much to them? It was baffling how they placed so much value on something so superficial, letting looks dictate their judgments and actions. Their obsession with outward beauty seemed shallow, yet it wielded an inexplicable power over their decisions and perceptions, this benefited you majorly.

You were considered the most beautiful girl wherever you went, with an irresistible aura that trailed you everywhere. Your presence turned heads and captivated attention, drawing admiration and envy alike. It was as if your beauty commanded a magnetic pull, making you the center of fascination and desire in every room you entered.

But underneath it all, you were a flesh-eating plague. You were a menace, the very embodiment of "evil." Your mesmerizing appearance only concealed a deep-seated darkness, a relentless malevolence that left chaos and despair in its wake.

The reflection in the mirror bore no resemblance to the soul within. But it didn't matter; they were unaware of the truth.

With a giggle, you left the police station, fully certain you wouldn't be caught. The bite marks on him were as brutal as a bear's mauling. deep and savage, a clear sign of something far more sinister than a simple attack. Still, as his "friend", you had to field a few questions.

You'd be satiated for the next few days, or even weeks. Given his larger size, there was plenty to sustain you. The ample supply would give you time to lay low and avoid drawing any unwanted attention, ensuring you could enjoy a period of relative peace before needing to hunt again.

As you stroll down the road, you notice the air has grown colder; summer nights here always bring a chill. The temperature has plummeted, with the cool air seeping through your clothes and nipping at your skin. It feels like a sharp, invisible edge grazing against you, making each breath visible in the dim light. The chill is persistent, wrapping around you like a thin layer of frost, and the once-warm evening now carries a biting, invigorating crispness that makes you shiver slightly and wish for the comfort of a warmer layer, this annoyed you.

The only sounds breaking the silence were the rush of cars speeding past on the adjacent road and the rhythmic click of your black, sleek heels. The steady clack against the pavement seemed almost musical, contrasting with the distant hum of engines. Each step you took reverberated through the quiet night, the sharp sounds slicing through the stillness and amplifying the solitude of the evening.

Then you started to ponder what you'd do once you got home. You realized you desperately needed a pedicure—it had been quite a while. Besides that, you also needed to catch up on some reading, tidy up the clutter that had accumulated over the week, and perhaps unwind with a hot bath to ease the day's stress. 

Lost in thought, you didn't notice the man lurking behind you. He moved cautiously, taking care to stay as silent as possible as he approached. His footsteps were barely audible, and the shadows seemed to cloak his presence, making him nearly invisible in the dim light. Each step was calculated, his breath held in anticipation as he closed the distance, intent on remaining undetected.

But men are all idiots.

He accidentally tripped over his own shoe, and with a clumsy lurch, he fell hard onto the cement pavement. His body hit the ground with a resounding 'Smack!', the sound echoing sharply in the night. He sprawled out, arms flailing as he lost his balance.

You jolted back to reality and spun around swiftly, only to find a man sprawled on the ground with his right cheek pressed against the pavement.

You immediately connected the dots. At first, you were irritated—someone had been trailing you for God knows how long. But as the realization sank in, your annoyance quickly turned into a smirk.

You suddenly realized what you were going to do with him. A plan took shape in your mind, one that would make use of this unexpected opportunity. The situation had shifted in your favor, and you saw a chance to turn the tables, ensuring that this intrusion wouldn't go unpunished...

[slashmagpie]

Shhhh.

It’s silliness, really, that makes Tango creep through the hollows in Decked Out’s walls to his mess of shulkers full of in-game items. He keeps his footsteps light, his breathing shallow, picturing himself a ghost as he slinks through the shadows and stone. It’s silly, but he can’t help but think that maybe, if he’s quiet enough, he might be able to—

Steal from the dungeon.

His fingers touch the shulker he needs, and the stone around him groans, deep and resonating through his bones. Tango grits his teeth, freezing. Busted. He’d known, really, but it’s still—

“It’s fine,” he says to the air, tail lashing, not quite opening the box just yet. “It’s a starter deck. If I was a normal player, I’d have had a Moment of Clarity in my deck from the get-go.”

Another grumble of discontent. Tango shivers. He can feel the disapproval crawling beneath his skin, and it takes all his willpower not to drop the shulker like a hot coal. 

“I know,” he says. “I thought I explained this! It’s an experiment, right? I’m seeing—seeing how dungeon knowledge makes up for a, uh, relative lack of skill.” The dungeon’s unhappiness remains where it is, but does not increase, and Tango lets out a shaking breath as he cracks open the lid of the shulker and peers inside just enough to spot and snag one of the cards he needs. He turns it between his fingers, glittering cardboard, the golden foil glittering in the torchlight. 

“I know I’m not a regular player,” Tango reassures the dungeon once again. “We talked about this, didn’t we? I’m not gonna submit Victory Tomes. And I’m starting behind everyone else. I won’t even run as much! I’m just—gonna try it. Think of it like the test runs again, yeah?” 

The discontent surges—then wanes, like a wave rushing back out to sea, and Tango feels like he can breathe again, the pressure on his lungs lessening. He hadn’t realised just how uncomfortable the weight had been until it was gone. Feeling ten tons lighter, Tango grins at the air.

“See? And, hey, if I run the dungeon, you’ll probably get to eat me loads more. You like that, don’t you?” A wry smirk. “I’m basically your favourite meal.”

The dungeon—doesn’t quite laugh, but the groan is quieter, softer, and tickles more than it prickles or aches. It’s not quite approval, and it’s not happy, but—it’s letting him. It’s letting him run, Moment of Clarity and all.

Tango tucks the additional card away inside his inventory and makes to leave the small, cramped storage room that isn’t a storage room and that Pearl would definitely murder him for. He hurries through his actual storage room and up to the water elevator. He should get his runs done before the dungeon changes its mind again. Honestly, sometimes Decked Out is more of a pain than the Ravagers are. 

…He is glad that it had fallen for his excuses, for the experiment and beta testing explanations, because he’s not sure the dungeon would appreciate his actual reasons for running quite as much. It’s quite particular about the place of its Dungeon Master, and what is and isn’t appropriate for Tango to do. It's why Tango spends hours and hours of his day watching people run the dungeon instead of working on all those repairs he’s got mounting on a list in the back of his mind. And why he has to give a mountain of excuses to play the game he’d helped make. Because really, in actuality—

Tango just wants to have a little fun.

Is that too much to ask?

He places a shard in the barrel and watches the doors open. He can feel the dungeon’s eyes on him already, and it’s weird to not be looking through them himself as he takes off his armour and stores his stuff in the chest. He takes a deep breath, tucks the stolen Moment of Clarity into his deck, and makes his way through the iron door.

Decked Out curls beneath his skin, curious and hungry, and as Tango places his deck into the slot, he feels the dungeon purr. 

[clangenrising]

Month 13 - Newleaf

Russetfrond sat perched at the top of the cornerstones, tail tip twitching slightly. He watched as Mystique and Yarrowshade crept through the foliage on opposite sides of a pair of squirrels. More accurately, he watched Mystique with a hawk eyed glare. At Goldenstar’s insistence, she had started joining hunting patrols over the last few days and he was there for every one of them. He didn’t trust anyone else to keep an eye on her. 

She moved softly through the undergrowth, somehow managing not to cause a single noise from her bell collar, her long blue coat brushing just above the leaves. She stopped a couple fox-lengths away from the squirrels and waited for Yarrowshade to move into place and, as she did, she cast her gaze up to Russetfrond. He scowled and she smiled and his scowl deepened. He wished she would stop smiling at him all the time. As if she could read his thoughts, she smirked and shook her head. 

Yarrowshade had moved into position. Mystique wiggled her haunches and then lunged forward, scuffing her paws noisily through the pine needles and leaf litter, a laugh burbling up from her chest. The squirrels panicked and fled straight into Yarrowshade’s waiting claws. He pounced on the smaller of them and snapped its neck in his teeth. The other squirrel veered off course and raced up a nearby tee. Mystique bounded after it and her paws were on the trunk when Russetfrond spoke up.

“Leave it,” he ordered. 

“Oh, come on…” she complained, tearing her claws down the bark. “I could have caught it!”

“Exactly,” he frowned. “You still don’t get it.” 

“Right,” she rolled her eyes, “I forgot there were a bunch of arbitrary rules about what prey you can and can't catch.” She sharpened her claws on the tree trunk for another second or two and then pushed off the trunk with a huff. 

“It’s not arbitrary,” Yarrowshade said. “We’re trying to preserve next year’s hunt. If we killed every squirrel we found there would be no squirrels next year and we’d all starve.” 

“Okay, but why not catch the fat one?” Mystique said. “Won’t that feed more cats?” 

“It was probably pregnant,” he shrugged, licking prey blood from his lips. “It’s that time of year. We let it go, that means more squirrels later on.” 

“I guess I see your point,” sighed the kittypet. Russetfrond huffed to himself and she looked up at him, nose scrunched petulantly. She even stuck her tongue out. He lashed his tail, hoping he had managed to come off as irritated rather than flustered. He hated how she got under his skin like that, especially with such childish behavior. 

“I think we’ve got a pretty good catch,” Yarrowshade said, unaware as usual. “Why don’t you grab the bird you caught earlier and we can head back.” 

“Aww, I wanna stay out,” she said. “The camp is so stuffy!” 

“Too bad,” said Russetfrond. He rose and bounded down the sloping side of the Cornerstones. The rough, mossy stone felt comforting under his paws and he imagined himself leaving a Gathering like this, leader of his Clan descending from the place of highest honor, walking in his mother’s pawsteps. It was a comforting fantasy, off put somewhat by coming down to be face to face with Mystique. 

“Come on, please?” she asked.

“Does that work on cats in the city?” he scowled back. 

“Sometimes,” she pressed her ears back against her head. 

“Just grab your damn bird,” he sighed. Yarrowshade was already heading off towards the border and he didn’t want them to fall too far behind. Mystique gave a beleaguered groan but went and fetched the bird from where they had stashed it without further complaint. 

They padded through the trees in silence until they reached the outskirts where the trees started to thin. The river stretched out in front of them. It was deep and fast near the SkyClan border but widened and grew shallow as it flowed towards EarthClan. Mystique brightened when she saw it, like she did every time, and her tail started to wave above her back.

“Ooh, maybe we could take a swim?” she suggested.

“Uh, no thanks,” Yarrowshade laughed. 

Mystique leaned in to bump her shoulders against his. “What, you afraid of a little water, Yare Bear?�� Russetfrond grimaced. 

“I’m not afraid,” said Yarrowshade, fur puffing up. “I just don’t like getting wet.”

“What are you talking about?” Mystique said. “Getting wet is the best feeling in the world.” Russetfrond couldn’t help but huff a little laugh through his nose at the phrasing. Mystique glanced over at him and smirked. “See, Bee Face gets it.” 

“Don’t include me in this,” he said, a touch of humor still lingering. “I wouldn’t know the first thing about that.” 

Mystique laughed, loud and bright. “Wow! Big self-own from Bee Face.” 

Yarrowshade looked puzzled. “W- Oh, stars, are you two flirting?” He rolled his eyes. Both Russetfrond and Mystique turned to scowl at him. 

“No,” snapped Russetfrond. 

“Gross,” said Mystique. 

“And besides,” continued Russetfrond, “if we were, you’re the last person who gets to complain. I can’t count the times I’ve had to suffer through your painful attempts at flirtation.” Yarrowshade bristled sourly. 

“Ooh!” Mystique’s gaze sharpened with interest. “Are you a little Romeo, Yare Bear?” 

“Don’t call me that,” Yarrowshade said, casting his face away uncomfortably. 

“What, Romeo or Yare Bear?” Mystique asked. 

“All of it,” Yarrowshade grumbled. “It’s weird.” 

“I dunno,” hummed Russetfrond, “I think it’s growing on me. Maybe I’ll start calling you Yare Bear.” Mystique chortled. 

“Ew,” Yarrowshade grimaced like he’d stepped in crowfood, “Stop it, man.” 

“Stop what, Yare Bear?” smiled Russetfrond. 

“Yeah, what’s wrong, Yare Bear?” asked Mystique, poorly hiding her laughter. 

“I’m serious!” Yarrowshade hissed, “Stop it!” He sounded so much like a whiny apprentice that Russetfrond couldn’t help but laugh at him.

“Oh, come on,” he said, “have a thicker hide than that.” 

“Yeah, we’re just poking fun,” said Mystique. 

“Whatever,” Yarrowshade scowled, his tail lashing. They reached the river shore and Yarrowshade angrily leapt to the first of the mossy crossing stones they had used on their way over. When he jumped to the next, his paw slid off of the slick moss and the river drenched his back half as he scrambled not to fall in entirely. Mystique fell over cackling and Russetfrond bit his lip to stop himself from laughing out loud. Her laughter was infectious even without the added hilarity of Yarrowshade’s predicament. 

Yarrowshade turned back, fur fluffed up in all directions except where it clung wetly to his skin, cheeks bright red in embarrassment. He seemed to growl tightly around the squirrel in his jaws. Silently fuming, he turned and quickly finished crossing, then dashed off into the grass without them. 

“Wait!” Russetfrond tried but he couldn’t stop the laughter tinging his voice and he knew that Yarrowshade was long gone. He sighed, shook his head, and looked over to Mystique who had rolled onto her back, overwhelmed by her own laughter. The bird lay beside her, forgotten. 

“What a dork!” she snorted. “Is he always like that?” 

“Pretty much,” Russetfrond said. 

“Man, it’s almost too easy!” She stood up and stepped into the river, ignoring the crossing stones. 

“Hey, don’t forget your catch,” Russetfrond’s scowl returned. 

“I’ll grab it in a minute,” she said, wading deeper into the river. “I wanna cool off for a sec.” 

“We’re going back to camp,” he said stubbornly. “Stop fooling around.” 

“Oh, you like it when I fool around,” she scoffed. 

“I do not,” he puffed up slightly with indignation. 

“Do too,” she said back. By now she was sinking into the river to douse her back. 

“Ah, the pinnacle of eloquence,” he droned sarcastically. 

“You know it,” she purred. She dunked her head under the water briefly and tossed it back, sending glittery droplets flying in a perfect arc. Russetfrond was ashamed at the way his throat tightened. 

“Get out,” he snapped, “We’re going back to camp now.” 

“Make me,” she smirked, looking over at him. He stared, dumbfounded. Was she really going to risk injury or getting banned from patrols over a few minutes in a river? Her grin only widened at his reaction. “You can’t, can you?” 

“Of course I can,” he said, leaping to the first of the crossing stones. 

“Yeah?” she challenged, silky fur swirling around her as she turned to face him. “I bet you can’t.” 

Russetfrond shifted his weight to make sure he was steady on his stepping stone before he tried to reach out and snag her by the scruff. She dipped into the water and let it carry her backwards, out of his reach. 

“Nuh-uh-uh,” she clucked, “You’re gonna have to get wet if you wanna stop me.” He growled one paw held to his chest as he considered her words. It looked like she was right. He didn’t enjoy getting wet but he didn’t hate it either, it was the aftermath that he hated, the chilly evaporation and the hours of grooming. Still, he wasn’t one to shirk an unpleasant task. Carefully, he adjusted himself for a jump, calculating the best place to land and making sure that he wasn’t about to faceplant or slip on a stone. Mystique watched him intently, hovering lightly on her paws with all but her head in the water. 

A moment, then another, and then Russetfrond jumped, landing on top of her with an enormous splash. She sank to get out from under him but he lunged and snagged her collar in his teeth. With a sharp tug, he yanked her to the surface. She gasped for air and reared up onto her hind legs, suddenly lifting him. She was taller than him, imposingly so on her hind legs, and he realized a second too late that he should have let go. 

She slammed forward, topping him backwards into the water, and her weight forced him to the bottom of the river. He realized suddenly that he was in danger. She had much better control in the water than he did. Had this all been a cunning ploy to drown her guard and get away? Adrenaline suddenly spiked through him and he lashed out with his hind claws. Her thick, unshed coat tangled his claws but the force of the kick landed in her gut and she quickly backed off of him. He spun to get his feet underneath him and burst from the water, gasping, then rounded on her, prepared for a counter attack. 

He wasn’t ready for the worried expression she was wearing.

“Are you alright?” she asked, sounding genuine. He coughed a little and scowled at her, not yet ready to ease out of his battle stance. 

“I’m sorry, I thought we were just messing around,” she continued, “I didn’t realize you couldn’t swim.” 

“I can swim,” he said, feeling the embarrassment of his fizzling adrenaline rising to his cheeks. “I just- I thought you were pulling something.” 

“Oh,” she sat down, face blank. Her lack of reaction made him even more embarrassed. Teeth gritted, he stomped out to the other side of the river and shook to get the water out of his ears. 

“Grab the bird and let’s go,” he growled. “I’m done wasting time.” 

“Yeah, okay,” she said limply. She sailed easily through the water, back to the far shore, and grabbed the bird, then slipped back into the water like a duck and pulled herself across. Russetfrond couldn’t understand how a cat could look so at home in water. Kittypets, he thought sourly. 

“Thank you,” he grunted. “Let’s go already.” 

“Yeah, okay,” she said, ears drooped. It was unsettling to him to see her this way. The sooner they got back to camp and he could stop thinking about her, the better. He picked up the pace through the grass, following Yarrowshade’s trail and trying not to shiver. 

After a while, Mystique said, “Hey, sorry about that. I promise I’m not gonna like… murder you.” 

“Why would you promise that?” he glared back at her. 

She frowned in surprise. “Uh, cause I’m not a monster?” 

“We’re enemies,” he said harshly. “What if your brother storms the camp and we’re forced to fight? You’re saying you wouldn’t raise your claws to defend your family?” 

“I’d probably try and stop the fighting,” she snapped as if he were being irrational. “I don’t have to choose between killing you or killing my brother.” 

“You might,” he said. 

“No way,” she insisted. “It’s unrealistic to say those are my only choices.” 

“That’s the kind of thinking that got Smokyrose killed,” he snarled, turning on her. She bristled and flattened backward. “You’re naive if you think Razor will give you another option.” She swallowed, searched his face, and he turned his head sharply away. He couldn’t stand that expression on her face. Without another word he stomped back to camp, only pausing to make sure she was behind him. She followed and for that he was grateful. She didn’t speak again and the walk back was stiff and silent. 

When they returned he assigned someone to guard her and went to clean his fur on top of the Stoneperch. Why did he feel betrayed somehow? It wasn’t even the fight that upset him, it was how she had gone all soft and quiet like a kicked dog. That was the part that upset him the most and it didn’t make any sense. He hoped that Goldenstar would do something about Mystique soon ‘cause he wasn’t sure how much longer he could put up with her.

[acasualcrossfade]

toes in, ankles deep

Written for STWG daily prompt: new beginnings

(happy belated birthday to @pearynice and @stevesbipanic since this prompt fell on their birthdays!)

Rating: T | CW: mentions of past drowning, mild cursing | Words: 1078

Steve is determined to swim with Eddie in Lake Michigan.

--

Steve looked out on the serene waves of Lake Michigan, the familiar panic curling around his lungs at the thought of the open water. The sun was overhead and shining bright, and yet he shivered. Steve still had nightmares about the way that thing gripped his leg, dragging him down, down, down under the water and far from the surface.

The memory always brought a roll of shame in its wake, whispering that he should be over this, that it’d been years since nearly drowning in Lover’s Lake, and that there were no monsters hiding in the depths of Lake Michigan. 

“Are you sure about this?” Eddie asked, stepping over their picnic to stand beside Steve. “We can walk the beach for a bit before heading back to the car.”

Steve gave Eddie an assured look. “I want to do this. I miss swimming with you.”

Moving to Chicago was their new beginning, and for Steve, this lake was part of their effort forward together. 

Their first time to the lake, Steve only made it toes in and ankles deep before retreating to shore. The third time he made it to his shins, and by the fifth, he made it to his chest and dove under the water.

Eddie always wrapped Steve in a soft beach towel afterwards. He pressed kisses and love into Steve’s goosebumpy skin, making sure Steve knew how brave he was, and how proud he felt. 

But even though Steve swam many times before, the fear still bubbled up in his chest. 

“I’m right here, okay? Won’t let anything happen,” Eddie reminded him.

Steve swallowed and adjusted his grip on Eddie’s hand.

Lake Michigan was rippling glass against the midday sun and Steve shivered as he stepped into the cold water. He watched the water rush over his bare feet before retreating, pulling pebbles of sand from in between his toes. Steve sucked in a breath, remembering how tightly that thing wrapped around his ankle, and how powerless he felt as the surface disappeared above him. 

Steve pushed away the thought of how easily he could be pulled in again, even in shallow water. He turned his gaze to watch a group of teens take a running start into the water, stepping and splashing loudly before they dove under and resurfaced with splashes and laughter.

Jealousy made Steve’s shame return; he wished it was that easy for him each time.

“Shh, hey,” Eddie crooned, his voice closer. “It’s okay. We’ve got time. There’s no rush.”

Steve felt the way Eddie’s words softened the harder edges of his panic. It was true, he could take his time. And he knew that Eddie would stand in shallow water as long as he needed.  

Steve let out a groan of annoyance. “It just…shouldn’t feel this hard. It’s been like, four years, Eds. Now it’s just getting pathetic.”

“Stevie, you’re so far from pathetic. And the fact you’re determined to swim again despite being afraid is impressive as fuck.” Eddie nodded over to the group of teens who’d now moved on to a handstand contest. “They have no idea there could be monsters in this world. What I wouldn’t give for that ignorant bliss sometimes.” 

He gave Steve’s hand a squeeze as he stood on his tippy toes to press a kiss to Steve’s cheek. “I’m right here,” Eddie softly reminded him. “We only go as far as you want to.”

“Maybe you could, um, go first?” 

“That can be arranged,” Eddie guided, taking Steve’s other hand with ease and turned so he faced Steve instead of the lake.

Steve looked down at both their feet, seeing that Eddie already stood in ankle-deep water. Determination bit at his fear. He wanted to swim, and he wanted to swim with Eddie.

Eddie took a step backward and Steve took one forward, holding both of Eddie’s hands tightly. He concentrated on their intertwined hands and the sturdiness of Eddie’s steps. Steve’s feet stepped an inch forward and his feet sunk into the sand below. 

Toes in, then, ankle-deep. 

Another step and Steve was up to his calves. 

Then, knees.

Steve never let go of Eddie’s hands and Eddie encouraged him with every step. And when Steve was chest-deep, he tensed. Going under was the second-hardest part, but he’d made it this far. His feet still touched the sandy bottom, and he let out a breath.

Just as something brushed his arm. 

He splashed it away with a gasp and Eddie was right there, just in time to see the tangle of seaweed bobbing away in the water. 

“Just seaweed,” Steve gasped breathlessly, taking a minute to rest his forehead on Eddie’s shoulder. He let out a shaky laugh. Then, he looked ahead to the open water, feeling braver.

“Wanna dive in? Together?” 

“On three,” Eddie nodded. 

Steve squeezed Eddie’s hand as they counted down, and on three, Steve pushed off the sandy bottom and took his last breath before diving under the water.

The cold hit full force and he resurfaced quickly with a gasp. A surprised smile split across his face as water poured from his soaked hair. He pushed it off his forehead and couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of him as Eddie resurfaced next to him. Eddie’s dark eyes looked bigger with his hair plastered to his forehead and cheeks.

“We’re swimming,” Steve laughed. 

“We’re swimming,” Eddie echoed. “You did it.”

Steve’s chest expanded as his fear dissipated, letting Eddie pull him closer. 

“And do you have any idea how amazing you are?”

“At this?” He shook his head. “Took me a good ten minutes to make it in.”

“But you made it in.” He nudged Steve. “Look at you, conquering fears and making it look easy.” Eddie’s own smile curled into something more, and he leaned into Steve in search of his lips. 

“You always make it easier,” Steve confessed before Eddie’s lips, kissing away the chill of the lake water. Eddie tasted like everything safe, everything encouraging, and Steve couldn't help himself as his hands found their way into Eddie’s curls.

Eddie pulled him closer and Steve’s legs wrapped around Eddie’s waist, smiling at the way the man could easily hold him up underwater. He tightened his legs around Eddie’s waist as he returned his lips to Eddie’s mouth.

And wrapped in Eddie with the heat of the sun on his back, in the open water of Lake Michigan, Steve was at peace. 

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

These translations are not intended as a replacement for the game. Please support Cybird by buying their stories. Expect grammatical errors.

On a holiday with a clear blue sky stretching endlessly, Silvio and I were at the beach together.

I squinted at the waves kissing the pure white sandy beach, the scent of the sea tickling my nose.

(The sea is still beautiful no matter how many times I come here.)

Silvio: "Hey."

Silvio called out to me as I headed toward the shallows, lured by the sound of the waves.

Silvio: "If you get too close to the sea, you might get wet."

Emma: "It's fine."

I lifted my skirt slightly and let the water touch my ankles, the cool sensation lifting my spirits.

Emma: "Hey, why don't you come over here too?"

Silvio: "Geez. You always have that excited look on your face."

I beckoned him over, and he reluctantly came, laughing.

Silvio: "You get so excited every time you look at the sea."

Silvio: "Aren't you used to it by now? What's so fun about it?"

Shrugging his shoulders, he dipped his feet into the water along with me.

Emma: "It's not about the sea. It's about being with you that makes it fun!"

I raised my voice slightly, trying to compete with the sound of the waves.

Silvio: "Ha?"

He furrowed his eyebrows after hearing me say it.

Silvio: "Is that so? I guess that's something I could get used to."

(He says that, but his ears are turning red.)

I couldn't help but smile seeing him like that.

Emma: "Are you embarrassed?"

Silvio: "Ha?"

Emma: "I was just wondering if you were embarrassed."

Silvio: "Stop smiling. I'm not embarrassed."

Emma: "But you're blushing."

Silvio: "Tch!"

I teased him again, and he firmly grabbed my chin.

Emma: "Mmph!"

Silvio: "You’re really fucking cocky."

Emma: "But it's the truth..."

Silvio: "Just shut up for now. Don't say anything anymore."

Emma: "!?"

He kissed me again with the same passion.

(Surprise attack!)

I tried to move away in a panic, but his arms held me tightly, leaving me unable to move.

Silvio: "What? It's too late to escape now."

He smiled like a beast that had caught its prey.

Emma: "Nngh!"

He inserted his tongue through the gap between my lips.

The sensation of his gentle yet intense exploration inside my mouth quickly captivated my heart.

Emma: "Haaa..."

Silvio: "What happened to your previous energy?"

Silvio: "Your face is a lot redder than mine now."

Emma: "That's... mmph!"

I tried to retort, but he blocked my words with another kiss.

Emma: "Prince Silvio..."

(My head is getting fuzzy.)

My body wobbled and staggered from our deep kiss.

Silvio: "Tch."

He supported me as I nearly collapsed.

Silvio: "Haah, you're so defenseless. What happened to your earlier energy?"

As he said this, his hand bewitchingly stroked my waist.

(This feeling...!)

Sensing this, I suddenly snapped back to my senses.

Emma: "Prince Silvio, not in a place like this!"

Silvio: "!?"

I pushed his chest and kicked up the water with the same force, the violently splashing water hitting his hair and face.

Silvio: "You!"

I kicked the water again, but he quickly and gracefully avoided it.

Silvio: "You've done it now, you cheeky woman."

Emma: “!”

He closed the distance between us and firmly grabbed my head with his large hand.

Silvio: “You’ve got a lot of nerve to splash water on me.”

Emma: “Please stop. No violence!”

Silvio: “Which is more violent? You splashing water on me or this?”

(He does have a point. This doesn’t hurt at all.)

He sometimes acted rough, but in reality, he was gentle.

(He would never do anything to hurt me.)

Suddenly, a feeling of affection welled up, and my expression softened again.

Silvio: "What are you smiling about?"

Emma: "I'm not smiling. It's because you're doing something shameless."

Silvio: "Ha? You know I always do more than that."

Emma: "Don't even mention it right now."

Silvio: "I'm just taking advantage of the fight you started."

Silvio: "What? Don't just stay silent. Say something!"

Emma: "Meanie, sleazebag, coward."

Silvio: "You can call me whatever you want."

Emma • Silvio: ".........."

Emma • Silvio: "Hahaha!"

After a brief exchange, we looked at each other and burst out laughing.

Silvio: "Ah, geez. That's enough! Let's stop this pointless bickering."

Emma: "Fufu. I never get bored when I'm with you."

Silvio: "You're right."

Silvio: "I don't think I'll ever get used to your cuteness."

Emma: "----!"

(He really had to say that right now!?)

I could feel the heat gathering in my face, and he chuckled upon seeing it.

Silvio: "What's the matter with you? You're blushing again. You're getting too embarrassed just because I'm in front of you."

Emma: "I-I'm not embarrassed!"

Silvio: "Heh?”

Emma: "It’s true!”

The more I got to know this person, the more I fell in love with him, and the more I couldn't stay away.

By his side, I strongly wished to continue living like this, smiling and laughing, for a long time.

[silverinkbottle]

Chapter 2:Titles and Tribulations

Summary: Sometimes moments are only fleeting. But the memories of them last forever.

A/N: Thanks for all the love on the last chapter! This one is a bit longer so please enjoy!

Chapter 1 Linked Below

Chapter 1: Oh, You

-> Chapter 3: Shopping Around

Titles and Tribulations

Well, the hotel seemed to be structurally sound as you peered up at the gleaming windows. A far cry from the pile of rubble that once cluttered the ground. Sighing under your breath, you raised your fist to rap on the gleaming wooden surface of the double doors. Your stoic expression shifted into surprise as your knock met bare air instead of solid wood. Followed by a piercing squeal of excitement as you found yourself dragged into the inside by hand first, feebly looking behind at the paperboys who ‘shared’ a shrug before running after you.

“Welcome to the brand NEW, Hazbin Hotel. We are so HAPPY to have our first NEW guest after our sudden refurbishment. Now as you can see-” 

It was all too easy to tune out the little Princess’s words while making the appropriate nods and hums as you followed her flourished gestures. Charlie Morningstar wasn’t what you expected, but at the same time it was. A strange dichotomy of impossible bubbliness against the rumored fierceness that lurked underneath her smile. Not like you could have gotten an interview with the poor bastards that had gone against her a week ago. 

“Oh, here is the statue of the bestest boy ever Dazzle! He was-”

Extracting your hand from her grip was like trying to scrape off slimy seaweed in the shallows. Yet, somehow you managed as you forced a polite smile on your face that seemed to dim in the brilliance of Charlie’s smile. 

“Lovely scenery, Miss Morningstar, but I am not-”

Another squeak of joy interrupted your speech as Charlies was peering around your skirts. To the huddled forms of the paperboys, their ears flat against their heads as if they could sense something about the Hellborne Princess. 

“Aren’t they adorable, these your kids- Look at their little buttons and vests. Just so-. Are..you alright?”

Her first question sent you into a coughing fit as you hastily waved off her concerns. Eyes watering as you managed the word ‘No’. It was impossible to protest as you found yourself ushered towards the bar and its’ equally grouchy but polished looking bartender.

“What can I get you? Aside from Charlie off your back, can’t help you there..”

“Gin. Tonic. Don’t you touch that.” Your last words were sent as a low hiss catching sight of a floppy ear peering around the bar front. Its paws trembling in excitement as the glass gin decanter glimmered in the lighting. 

“A little booze never hurt no one. Trust me, toots.” The other bar patron waggled his fingers at you. Angel Dust, wasn’t it? He was all but baiting the souls as he dangled a shot glass above their smaller forms.  The spider demon let out a yelp as small black holes materialized on their masks, eagerly drinking down the meager offer of liquor.

“Watch your pockets.” You retorted as you took another deep drink of your glass. Fingers tapping on the marble countertop as a timer. A telltale yelp came from their victim followed by the pair scurrying off their prize secured in their paws.

“Little bastards pickpocketed me,both of em. I must be loos’en my touch to not feel that.” Angel whined as you laughed into your glass. It made a hollow sound all too soon as there was a clink of ice. He was quick to scurry after them feebly chasing after the thieves. It was like trying to grab a shadow as the paperboys materialized their own ‘holes’ to hop in and out of utilizing the inner spaces of Purgatory. 

“I warned you. Can’t even give them pocket lint, any items bind them further to this reality. Makes them little kelptos. Can’t tell you how many pens I have lost from that unfortunate hab-” 

“FUCK.” Angel let out a yelp as he pulled back one of his arms, now bearing a fresh bite mark as he daringly stuck in hand in one of the tiny portals. Curious. He was far too curious as you withdrew your little black book from your pocket to add to your notes. It seemed to be a running theme of eavesdroppers as you sighed before lowering the book to allow Charlie a better look at it. At least she was too polite to rip it from your grasp.

“Angel Dust. Porn Star. Mafia ties? Power-” Charlie flushed over the word before sheepishly passing the book back over. 

“So, a little black book of secrets is it? Been a while since I have seen one of those.” Husker rasped before holding out his paw to flick through the book. His eyes widened as he too quickly passed over the book. 

“Are you some kinda journalist?” Husk growled with an edge of suspicion as you gave a wry smile. Something like that he was close enough. While Charlie, an apparent optimist clapped her hands together before once again taking your hands in her clutches. 

“Maybe you can do a piece of the hotel. For its grand reopening. Oh, oh, we can start with the introduction of the new parlor room. We even installed new stained glass windows that really make the ambiance pop. Oh, please say yes, it would be a perfect-”  

“Perfect time for her to leave. You mean, right darling Charlie?” Alastor’s less than pleased tone boomed over the room as all eyes watched the Radio Demon descend the stairs. Microphone in hand. As if it hadn’t been broken into two pieces like a match last time you saw it. No, this was entirely Alastor’s bravado instead of the mess that you met before.

“Better make me another drink, it seems.” You muttered under your breath as the faintest hint of smirk slid over your lips as Alastor’s gaze flickered from Charlie’s tight grip on your right hand, while your left slid protectively over the little black book on the bar. 

“Hold that thought, Husker.” Alastor snapped as the bartender’s scowl deepened before slamming the decanter of gin back on the bar. 

“Husker do this, Husker don’t do that. I have about had it with-” Husker’s grumbles were ignored by Alastor as he seemed to have grown a faint sliver of patience. An impressive feat if it wasn’t causing your glass to remain empty. Even the ice cubes were melting as you rattled the cool glass.

“Why should she leave? She’s a new guest.” Charlie protested as you chuckled at the thought. You, a Sinner looking for a chance of redemption. Perhaps, you should have tried to write funnies after all. Or perhaps the Princess of Hell had a strange bizarre sense of humor.

“Apologies Princess, I am afraid you have gotten the wrong impression of me.” You explained gently pulling your hand from hers as you tried to find the right words about the entire affair. It wasn’t like you had planned to move into the hotel to stir up the pot. Far from it.

“FOR THE LAST TIME I AM NOT YOUR SECRETARY. YOU CAN’T EXPECT ME TO WRITE DOWN YOUR THOUGHTS FROM LAST WEEK AND REMIND YOU OF THEM. CHARLIE, I CAN’T- A shrill rant was punctured by the ruffle of wings as a gray streak quickly took refuge behind the princess. Wings? A quick flicker through your notes as you could feel Alastor’s gaze burning into your hands with each whisper of the paper.

“Please don’t worry, Vaggie. I have a solution to your concerns.” You muttered as you slipped the book back into your pocket. 

“Charlie, sweetheart, please tell your girlfriend, a genius like me needs-”

“Every thought dictated back to him like a parrot. Yes, I know that sir. I am afraid I hear your voice in my dreams. Or should I call them nightmares. Who knows what sort of information you stuffed into that poor girl’s head.” You chirped lightly as you swept your way past Alastor. As if he was a mere tree amongst the woods. Dropping into the smallest of curtsy as Luicfer clapped in his hands together in an all too familiar gesture. Like father like daughter, you soon found yourself caught in his grip, a familiar hand around your waist as he ushered you back to the group.

A shell-shocked, wide eyed group as all you could manage was an almost shy wave as Lucifer began to sing your praises without a hint of awareness. 

“Everyone, may I present the newest staff member of the hotel. Well, my personal staff member. My ever diligent, steadfast and almost too prompt Secretary. It’s been my request that she take up quarters here.”

“Well, it was said work is a new kind of Hell. At least it will be a stylish one.” You deadpanned weakly as a burst of laughter broke the tension in the air. Your tail flicked angrily as Alastor wiped a tear from his eye as he managed to speak through his laughter.

“You. A Secretary. For HIM. You must be-”

Anger seized your heart as your tail thrashed about, your ears flat as venom dripped in your next words. 

“Fuck you. I wasn’t aware I needed my ex-husband’s permission to do my job. One that I am quite exceptional at.”

“HUSBAND?” A chorus of voices rang through the silent foyer as Husker let out a low whistle before thoughtfully pouring the gin into your abandoned glass. The alcohol’s blissful coolness did little to dampen your temper as another word left Alastor’s curled lips.

“Till death do us part. I would consider this a technicality.”

“Oh don’t start that-” Husker protested as you grabbed the almost empty decanter, hurling it at the infuriating radio demon. His words fatigued like this wasn’t the first spat between lovers he had witnessed behind the bar. The glass smashed against the far wall as Alastor easily stepped out of the weapon’s range. His smug expression didn’t last long as he stumbled out of the way a sudden switch blade aimed for his gut. A single furry arm reaching out furiously swinging as another portal aimed for his knees. Draining your glass with a single long drink, you were quick to join the fray. The weapon of choice is a feathered quill, its sharp dripping crimson as Alastor fell into step with your challenge. A macabre dance of sorts as Alastor dipped into a mocking bow, ears tucking back to narrowly miss shining glint of metal.

“Fuck you. You broke those vows a LONG time AGO.”You snarled as you could feel anger begin to court something you hadn’t felt in years. Sentiment.  The cool burn of the fucking ring still on your finger, like a vice trapping the flesh of a forgotten life, but would ruin you to amputate. A string tying to a much happier time. At least one with glimpses of the emotion.

Alastor’s hand caught your wrist with ease as you snarled when he removed the silken glove from your left hand, revealing the accursed piece of brass. A cheap little thing, but it once meant the world to some stupid woman. Alastor’s eyes widened for the briefest second as if he hadn’t thought that his mocking words from earlier held any weight. Or was it because he hadn’t expected your free hand to strike him across the face.

“I didn’t ASK your PERMISSION. I DON’T FUCKING NEED IT. I NEVER DID.” Your voice was a low hiss now as your hand drifted to your throat. Black ink was slowly spreading across the crisp collar in a slow haze as splotches seeped through here and there on your dress. Ink oozed across the floor like a slow haze as Angel hastily scurried up onto the couch away from the ooze. The slippery forms of hands reached out from the ooze like a drowning man trying to breach the surface, their stained hands gripping your ankles. Alastor kicked at far more hostile hands, their passive grasp turning into sharp claws eager to sink into flesh.

“So. You made some new associates, kit. As did I”

“ALASTOR, ENOUGH.” Charlie’s voice broke through the haze of violence as you bit back your retort under Lucifer’s cool glare. The ink dissipated, but the trembling of your form didn’t. Control was something you always lacked when your temper sparked. It was your fatal flaw, it made you reckless. It scorched you from the inside out as your hands curled around yourself protectively, fighting the urge to gag as if each breath provoked another splattering of ink from the depths of your throat. 

“Breathe.” Lucifer muttered as he offered you a spare handkerchief. It was almost a shame to see the dark liquid greedily seep into the silk cloth like a drunk to drink. Angel was quick to pull up alongside you with a waste basket as you retched further ink into the bin.

“Had enough experience with the gutter to know the “oh fuck I am gonna hurl face”. Angel teased as you glared up at him. Managing only the faintest laugh as Angel winked cheekily at you.

“Well, that wasn’t the worst introduction to the hotel.” Charlie chimed weakly trying to lighten the mood as she stood in front of Alastor. Protecting you from him? Or was it the other way around. Or perhaps it was to spare the risk of another massive clean-up as an excited giggle lit up the room. A maid skittered about the room mop in hand as she invasively wiped a wet cloth over your face before darting off to the next puddle.

“Thank you, Niffty. We would be lost without you.” Lucifer mused as the maid gave a quick salute to the compliment. 

“I mean I did do the stabbing of the nasty big bug” Niffty said in a sing-song voice as you connected the words. This, this was the Sinner that managed to kill the first Man?

“Oh, now I can see why you were so out of sorts.” You sneered as there was that telltale twitch of Alastor’s left eye.

“Fuck you.”

“Oh never again darling.” 

“Well, now that this little reunion is settled. I do hope your files are in order. We have A LOT to cover.” Lucifer announced with a dramatic sigh. It was all false theatrics, you knew likely better than anyone of the renewed passion that had been lit in the King of Hell. The management of the realm itself, to remind the Sinners that he was in charge for a reason. With or without the rumors surrounding his prestige.

“Of course. Sir.” You answered flatly as you snapped your fingers once more. It was like watching a small parade of rabbits as the tiny creatures streamed into the hotel door. Needing little direction as Lucifer’s words began flowing like a river. Your pen dancing over the pages in furious shorthand. Allowing yourself to fall into the intoxicating haze of work into the long hours of the night.

“Now I think it’s time to call it a night. It was quite an eventful day for you.”

The words skittered over the page without a thought as your tired eyes read over them. It wasn’t diction, no, it was the start of a conversation. Lucifer observing you through steepled fingers as you put the finishing punctuation with a loud clack of the keys. Taking extra time to carefully remove the delicate paper from the roller, you wistfully blew over the damp ink. Ignoring the click of Lucifer’s tongue as he knew your procrastination tactics. He couldn’t exactly scold you for being considerate now could he.

“It won’t be a problem. It’s in the-” You began as Lucifer waved you over to the seat in front of his desk.  Now you were feeling like some school girl about to be lectured by the teacher as you slid into the seat with a guarded expression.

“I wouldn’t mind it being a problem. Smug prick could use another reminder of his standing. As powerful as he is, he is still a Sinner. Once human with an apparent speck of a heart that can be rattled it would seem. Especially if you know how to stab at the soft parts.” Lucifer mused with a raised brow.

“Are you asking me to kill Alastor, sir. I wouldn’t be against throttling him in his sleep tonight.” You deadpanned as your fingers twitched at the thought. 

“No. No. A bit of emotional torment is just dessert for me. Besides, I think Charlie would be a bit put out if it came to that. She was already so disappointed with the misunderstanding about a new Guest. Much less I had to talk her down from giving you a rousing speech after your little spat with him.”

You cringed at the imaginary conversation. You could all but see the wide-eyed princess flailing over the dramatics of love and how it’s worth fighting for. Possibly with an extra flair of confetti and trying to ply into a bit of romantic history. An impossible conversational trap that would make flaying feel preferable.

“I appreciate that, sir.” You muttered gratefully as Lucifer chuckled at your pained expression. However, you couldn’t help but feel like this was another trap when the devil’s expression turned from thoughtful to serious.

“I need you here. Charlie needs him here for some inane reason. Don’t push him too far, but don’t let him take advantage of you either. That’s a direct order. Now, off you go, we have plenty of nights to burn the midnight oil on.” Lucifer tutted before turning his chair, his own version of dismissal as you quietly left the study.

Your steps were aimless but seemed impossibly loud in the massive corridors of the hotel. Pale blue lighting drifting through the glass windows. As if it was a true moon outside instead of an endless haze of neon in the Pentagram below.  What would the fireflies look like here? Like some bastardized version of the one’s from Earth, perhaps emitting fire balls instead of a soft glow.  Fireflies dancing over the low tides of some forgotten lake as the early morning fog rolled in soon to be burned away by the rising sun.

“Oh, I know that look. Means it's time for a drink.” A hoarse voice broke you from your thoughts as you sheepishly ducked your head at the knowing words. It was almost embarrassing for Sinners to be caught lost in their memories from before, much to remember them in such vivid details. For many, regardless of age, their memories would come for them in their dreams. Sinners were meant to be punished, dreams ripping apart by the seams into their worst nightmares.  Or callous reminders of their sins amplified by tenfold to send them bolting upright in their beds.

“Afraid that won’t help me much tonight. Today was a bit..excessive” You admitted softly as Husk snorted at your shoddy attempt of downplaying the chaos of the day. The cat demon’s wings ruffled as the pregnant pause filled the space. You could only imagine the questions that were burning to be asked. Ones that you would loath to answer without a bit of sleep.

“So, how did-”

“How many broads do you take on midnight strolls, Whiskers. Hurting my feelings here. I am only a bit late..” 

Your luck may have been changing as Angel’s arrival easily caught Husk’s attention. Or more so, Angel demanded it as he stood behind the shorter demon with a knowing look. A moonlight stroll? You quickly covered your faint laugh with your hand as Husk’s gaze narrowed displeased. 

“A mere accident. Enjoy your night.” You mused as the pair exchanged a quick glance. It seemed they were just as eager to escape the conversation as you were.  The faintest notes of jazz punctured the silence as Husk rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“Course, he is still in a prickly mood..” Husk growled 

Alastor and jazz was like watching the aftermath of a storm. Sometimes it was gentle lull ushering away dark clouds and foul weather. Other times it was the preamble to things to come as the restless notes went on into the early hours of the morning. 

“Ah, he’ll get over it if someone puts him-” Angel teased with a wink as you could feel your face begin to burn like a coal over the open fire.

“Have a good night.” Your words cut over the suggestive tone, perhaps too abruptly as the pair's laughter echoed after your footsteps. As if running away from the mere implication wouldn’t let your mind dance over the words. Your nails dug into the skin of your palms as you could almost taste the burn of rye. The ghostly touch on the back of your neck as you ran your hand over your face. As if that would wipe away the memories starting to prickle in the back of your mind. 

“Fuck.” You hissed as you realized your distracted steps had led you even closer to the source of the sound. Like the luring lull of a siren as there was a quiet rumble of a trumpet that sent goosebumps over your skin. All that was missing was the sweet scent of tobacco and low rumble of conversation. You startled backward onto the floor as the door slammed open at the crescendo of the song.

“Well, this is a surprise, do come in.” Alastor muttered as you silently cursed any entity for putting you in this position. Your dress slid up to above your knees, revealing the torn and ripped stockings beneath it as you hastily smoothed it back down. Alastor’s head tilting as he follows your hands up to your murderous expression before smiling that smug infuriating smile. 

“A leopard can’t change its spots. An intriguing idea isn’t it?” Alastor mused as he lazily waved to the free chair next to the fireplace. The nostalgic force barreled through your skull as your nails sank into the soft fabric of the arm rest. Everything about the room did. The pale tone of greens of the wallpaper, its edges fraying with its deceiving quality. The gentle crackle of the fire tinted by the low notes of jazz. Even the curious restless tap of Alastor’s fingers as he waited to hear your retort. 

“It can if the spots are painted on by another..” You huffed as you forced yourself to not fidget under his keen gaze. Like he was wanting to peel you open like a bit of wrapping paper over a shoddy gift. 

“But what sort of paints would the King of Hell use?” 

“Ones that I bought. I refuse to compromise on that.” 

“Well, even paint begins to fade. Funny how that happens.”

“Perhaps I should use ink instead. That continues to stain.”

The words were barbed and pointed as neither side was willing to back down. Did he really think you all but threw yourself at Lucifer’s feet without a second thought? Clinging to the nearest chance to pull yourself out from torment and torture. For the minute of peace in exchange for blistered fingers and reddened palms. 

“I am surprised you can’t see the stain on your hands. Seems like it was all over earlier.” Alastor quipped as you looked down at your hands. Still covered by the linen gloves as if that could conceal the blood on them. The dark sticky residue that once shown crimson, now tainted every single stroke of your pen.

“There are far worse reminders of our mistakes.” You nudged one side of your face, forcing it into a half smile as Alastor blinked once, but said nothing. You weren’t that blind to the fact that he was holding his cards close to the chest. Not willing to let the smallest risk of letting himself slip like he did before in the ruins of the radio station.

“Now let’s not dwell on the past.” Alastor proposed as you snorted at the clear diversion. There was a quick rattle of tea cups and the gentle floral notes of chamomile tea waiting to be poured within a blink of the eye. The hot liquid tasted slightly metallic on your tongue as you queried a brow but said nothing.  The faint chime of the cup hitting the saucer was all too loud in the room.

“You seem..better.” Hesitation in your voice as if cautiously approaching an injured animal. A single slow blink of Alastor’s eyes was a silent warning. Yet you couldn’t help but brooch the topic. 

“I am right as rain, my dear. Why wouldn’t I be?” Alastor hummed as you clicked your tongue in disapproval. Lying, he was lying to you. As if you weren’t the one that stumbled upon his little fit days prior. The obvious injuries inflicted on him by otherworldly forces, the faint twitch in his left arm when your gaze settled on it.

Now it was like falling back into familiar motions as your feet moved on their own accord to kneel next down to his chair. Your fingers diligently undoing the cuffed sleeve with a single snap of a button. Sharp nails curled under your chin forcing your focus from the fabric to Alastor. Less than impressed as you could feel your heartbeat thud a little bit faster from the malevolence of his ridgid form.

“Don’t act like a child.” You snipped as Alastor’s glare could have burnt into your soul. Well, if it still existed as you defiantly rolled up the fabric with a small hiss under your breath. Tendon and viscera was feebly trying to keep itself together by Alastor’s will. If infection ever existed in Hell, it would have to look like this at least it didn’t smell like rot.

“Pleased with yourself?” Alastor snapped coldly before pulling his arm away with a defiant snap of the button cuff. It was a mere glance but he was acting like you had proposed the idea of amputating the limb entirely. Now it was becoming nostalgic as a slow smirk spread across your lips as you leaned down closer to him. Your hands splayed comfortably over the top of the chair. There was a twitch in Alastor’s smile as you could all but see the same memories begin to play out.

“Still stubborn?”

“Always.” Alastor teased as his fingers sprawled over the length of your throat. Feeling your pulse underneath it. He was cheating in this little game of wills as a low hiss curled in your throat as his smile widened daring you to make the next move.

Any and all tension fled the room like a dog with its tail between its legs as the room’s door slammed open. A wide eyed and jittery Lucifer all but barged in without a single hint of volume regulation. A weary looking paperboy skittered after him with a blocky paper in its hand bearing the single word.

‘Sorry.’

“Cancel all my appointments tomorrow and fetch the coffee. I need to-”

Lucifer’s eyes went as a smirk slid over his snake-like features. His expression the picture of innocence as if he didn’t barge into the intimate moment. Hands tucked into his suit pockets as he slammed the final nail in the coffin for any chance of redemption. 

“Am I interrupting something?” Smug, amused notes that made you want to crawl into a hole and be buried alive.

“No.”

“Yes.”

Your answer came first in a rushed hiss as you quickly stood up to grab the troublesome rabbit by its ears as it frantically scribbled on its scrap of paper to explain the situation. That it had attempted to lead away your boss, but he just got this odd look when he heard the jazz. Please watch the ears. The excuses made your grip all the tighter as the little creature squealed in protest as it was thrown out into the hallway. 

While Alastor’s ‘No’ was far less pleased as the Devil was taking insurmountable delight in the situation. He smoothed out the rumpled edge of the sleeve with little ceremony as Lucifer seemed almost impatient for his next words. It was difficult to cover your laughter as the words never came, only the clatter of china and a loud sip of tea. 

“Now, before I fetch that coffee. What is the issue?” You huffed as you snapped your fingers together allowing your quill the float aimlessly around you. Lucifer spun on his heel before grabbing you by the wrist with a bright smile

“I want to redecorate my office. It’s looking a bit..drab. That means measuring, shopping and all the other joys of furnishing. Now let’s hop to it. We only have a few hours till morning, moonlight is wasting away as we speak. Since I wasn’t interrupting anything..” Lucifer declared as he wrapped his arm around your waist, all but ushering you from the room without a single second to spare.

You made sure to burn the coffee and watched with immense pleasure in seeing him choke it down.

[forgottensibiria]

Amphibian Perucetus and giant scissor sharks

In previous posts, we considered Moropiton and Poseideongenia, two groups of animals that migrated to Siberia through the Ural Sea in the Late Carboniferous. Before moving on to the actual descendants of these Seymouries - the Angarians themselves - we can distract ourselves with the creatures that the Moscow settlers could encounter on a vegetable raft.

The Dynasty of marine amphibians

Let's start with a strange speculative kind that shouldn't exist. Ichthyocetus, the "whale fish", is a large animal reaching a size of up to 2.5 meters and is a direct descendant of tetrapods of the Moscow Sea, primarily tulerpeton. The latter is known primarily for its six-toed limbs developed relative to other modern tetropods, as well as for its location. The fact is that the remains of the tulerpiton were located 200 kilometers from the supposed shore: this and the very structure of the body of the tetrapod under discussion suggest that the animal lived in shallow water, breathing atmospheric air (no bones corresponding to the gills were found, and the head was separated from the body - i.e. the tulerpeton could lift its head) and moving forward using the legs, pushing them off the bottom (their strength would not be enough to allow the toolerpeton to move on land). It is possible that some tetrapods could have stayed in this habitat, becoming the main predators of shallow waters, where larger predators like eugeneodonts or placoderms could not move normally.

Tulerpeton, 360 m.y.a. Art by Dmitry Bogdanov

Tulerpeton found fossils

Ichthyocetus is the last representative of this hypothetical clade, whose population was almost completely destroyed by the decline in sea level due to the new peak of the Karoo ice Age. His basic diet is benthos, which he can find in the buried ground: echinoderms, starfish and lilies, as well as, if luck smiles, the corpses of marine animals that the surf brings. He could also purposefully hunt for moropitons if they swam too deep. The bones of ichthyocetus are incredibly dense; this allows it to stay in the water during strong waves. This animal is able to sense the approach of a storm - then it tries to find the shore and crawl out onto it, burrowing into the sand; then they are most vulnerable. If it is impossible to find the shore, then the ichthyocetuses go to depth, swallowing air, where they can stay for 3-4 hours. Sometimes this tetropods go deep in search of new food sources, where they can catch young eugeneodonts or small fish. Surprisingly, ichthyocetuses are not the largest representatives of their clade (let's call it Ichthyocetusae): some species could grow up to 3 meters and lead a more pelagic lifestyle.

They usually appeared during periods of intense glaciation with a reduction in their original habitat. Unfortunately, this time climate change has become insurmountable.

Something about scissor sharks

If the meeting of protoseimurians with their "cousin" was unreliable, then the same cannot be said about eugeneodonts. The largest animals of the sea were the edestus, or protopirates. Although the largest protopirate species, E. vorax, could reach 6 meters (making it the largest predator of its time), the Moscow species were somewhat smaller and reached a maximum of 4 meters. These sizes correspond to the modern white shark and mako shark.

Edestus, 313—307  m.y.a. Art by Dmitry Bogdanov

Comparison of the four species of Edestus. Authors of this illustration is Leif Tapanila and Jesse Pruitt

Both poseideonogenes and moropitons encountered these cartilaginous fish - most likely, they were four-meter E. heinrichi and E. triserratus commensurate with ichthyocetus. Most likely, the edestus hunted numerous nautiloids and other soft-bodied prey and could well attack rafts, mistaking them for a dead cephalopod with a spiral shell. The protoseimuria themselves would not be of interest to the edestus - they are too small. That's what saved them.

[acourtofinkandpapyrus]

Late Night Comfort (Morrigan x Reader)

Warnings: Angst and fluff

After another bad breakup, you go to your bestfriend for comfort, when something snaps into place.

I run away, tears falling down my face as I make my way through the beautiful streets of Velaris.

I couldn’t notice any of its beauty right now, not as my now ex-girlfriends words were ringing through my head.

We had been having a discussion once again about letting people know about our relationship.  I had told her when we first got together that I wasn’t, and might never be ready to be out about anyone I loved.

“You’re selfish Y/N.  This isn’t just some fling anymore, I actually love you!”

Those words were the killing blow.  I knew after that, that no matter how much I wanted her to understand, she would never believe me when I told her that my reluctance to let people see in was the reason, and not her.

I had still fought for her though, because I loved her.  I mean, I thought I loved her.

Now… I wasn’t so sure.  I was still sad, but I also felt surprisingly empty, like part of me had already moved on.

Maybe it was because I knew this had been coming for a while.  The way she tried to hint to her friends that we were more than we appeared, her attempts to plant kisses on my cheek in public places.

So maybe I had known, but I still had hoped.  Hope that someone would understand.

I made my way up to the front door of my friend, Morrigan.  She had been with me through every bad breakup, partied the nights away with me until I was too drunk to remember why I had been sad in the first place.

So I knocked on her door, hard enough to wake the neighbors up from a dead sleep.

Normally I wouldn’t wake her up at such a late hour, but it felt almost as if there was a string tugging me towards her.  It was like that sometimes, like we were connected, she understood me so well sometimes it scared me.

As I wait for her to answer, I huff a laugh as I think of the first time I met her, how dorky I was and the gigantic crush I had on her.

She was, and is, way out of my league, and even if that wasn’t a problem, I had no idea where she stood with females.  I know she’s had quite a few flings, but I don’t know where her heart lies.

I sigh, realizing that she may not even be home, and turn around to leave when her door creaks open.

“Y/N?”  Mor’s tired voice called out, opening the door wider as I turned around.

I ran up the stairs of her porch, launching myself into her arms, barely holding back another wave of tears.

“Oh, hey, it’s okay.”  She murmured into my hair, drawing me more tightly into a hug.  “Hey, come inside, everything will be alright.”

She led me inside, locking the door behind her, and I went over to her stupidly extravagant couch and sat down, sniffling back the rest of my tears.

“I’m going to make us some hot cocoa, you don’t move.”

After two warm mugs or hot chocolate and me spilling everything that happened, I was exhausted, half laying on her shoulder.

“That’s awful.”  Mor said, petting my hair.  “You’re not selfish Y/N, and you did nothing wrong.”

I shuddered, trying not to start crying again.  “But I did.  She’s right, I should have just sucked it up and let people know-”

Morrigan grabbed my chin gently, pulling my head so I was looking into her eyes.  “No.  If she had truly cared about you, she wouldn’t have kept pulling those little tricks in public.  She crossed a line, and honestly, I think you should have dumped her right there and then.”

I laughed lightly, trying not to think about the deep emotion behind her words as her rich brown eyes bored into mine.  “You’re forgetting she dumped me.”  I say, looking away in an attempt to hide the blush that was now creeping up my cheeks.

“Her loss.”  She says, and normally it would be just another reassurance, but the way she said it felt more… personal.

I look at her again, and she’s studying me, her brows knit together in concentration.

My breath turns shallow as she leans forward, her head tilting slightly as she cupped my face with her hand-

And then she gasps, and I feel it too.  That string that I felt connecting us- it wasn’t just some emotional attachment as I thought it was.

It was a mating bond.

I quickly pull away at the wide look in her eyes.

She was horrified, she didn’t want this- she was never going to talk to me again.

I went to move off the couch, to run away, to vomit, I didn’t know.

I’m stopped by her hands on my shoulders, pulling me forward and kissing me deeply.

I’m dizzy as she pulls away, both of us gasping for breath.  “Don’t go.”  She said, letting go with one hand to tuck my hair behind my ear.

“Please don’t go.”  She repeats, hugging me closer to her.

I open my mouth to apologize, but I stop.  Maybe, maybe for just a minute, I could let myself imagine this is real, that she actually wants me.

So I wrap my arms around her, hugging her back for a long time, and eventually I fall asleep in her arms.

[slut-and-falcon]

Wicked headcannon

Elphaba isn’t allergic to water- she’s scared of it.

When she was a young child, Nanny tried to drown her. And Elphaba’s mother was never sober due to taking a variety of herbs and alcohol (which young Elphaba would interpret to be water because it’s clear). So it creates this deep rooted trauma in her mind that manifests as a deep fear of water.

This phobia is to the point that she sometimes panics and feels pain when water touches her even though it’s not causing actual damage (neuroplasticity but in reverse!).

And we also see this manifest in her behavior- she doesn’t wash her hair often so it’s usually tied up due to be oily. He clothes are ragged because they aren’t rinsed in water enough to avoid getting stiff from soap, and she tries to harshly rub the stiffness out with a wash board causing the fabric to ware.

Before Shiz, her nails always have white flour or dirt under them from avoiding excess time washing her hands. So she starts wearing gloves whenever she does the chores to stop needing to wash her hands. (Nessa thinks it’s to hide the green, Frex just is thankful it’s actually hiding the green)

Fiyero comes barging into Elphaba’s life, and comes from a diverse region where water is sometimes rare. And he’s sympathetic to her avoidance of water. He quickly learns she won’t talk about it, and takes his suggestions as criticism of her hygiene. (She uses coconut oil to wash her self, baking soda to clean her hair and teeth, and milk to bath in when necessary thank you very much)

Realizing she likes books and learning, he starts slowly suggesting some anthropological books about the dry regions of the Vinkus, knowing she would eventually read about the recorded water alternatives. He also starts practicing some of the techniques he grew up with- like using oil to clean his hands and tools, using powders to clean up spills, using dry exfoliation, etc, so that she will learn by observation. And also she will figure out that he knows stuff that might be helpful for her.

Time skip- Fiyero and Elphaba are together and he’s learning more and more about her everyday. In a vulnerable moment, she shares her fear of water and how she was drowned as a child, and everything clicks into place for him.

So he slowly introduces her to water in a positive way- using it to cool his canteen from the inside and then setting it against her face when it’s got outside. Or using it to water color berry paint pictures on rocks for her (because of course he does and it’s cute af), and eventually using it to comb out and detangle her hair for her without the water touching her scalp but it feeling very good.

And little by little coaxing her to jump into puddles with him, to enjoy the sound of rain while they are sheltered, to look forward to the rainbows.

Eventually he gets her to walk through a stream (previously he would carry over over because that’s hot af ngl), and then again but barefoot, and then they are wading into shallow water, but never putting their heads under. Fiyero takes the opportunity to make these good experiences (*wink wink*), and also starts to help her wash her hair without submerging her head. He even braids her hair while it’s wet so it dries in controlled waves that she adores.

He also makes sure their drinking water doesn’t look like the clear alcohol her mother drank- mixing berries and roots into it to change its taste and color.

And in return, she is in charge of the fires and kindling while they camp since he’s afraid of it.