#their gifts all reflect his nature but are brought separately

[patron-saint-of-lesbeans]

I am never not thinking about the three wise men.

[rainbowmoonstonestories]

Let Your Dreams Be Your Wings | Chapter 12

Chapters: 12/? Fandom: The Sandman (Netflix 2022, minor content from the Comics) Rating: Explicit Relationships Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x F!Reader  Characters: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus, Lucienne, Matthew the Raven, Mervyn Pumpkinhead, Hob Gadling, Death, Rose Walker, The Corinthian, other minor Sandman characters, Original Characters. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, POV switching, very long chapters to read. Summary: You always dreamed of becoming a successful Fashion Designer, sharing your creations with the world and making your father proud. But with him being very ill and so many costs solely weighting on your shoulders, things didn’t go as planned and you had to take a different path instead. An interesting offer led you to the elder Alex Burgess and you were hired as a new housemaid for a very good pay. However, your kindness and outstanding empathy convinced the man to give you an additional task for a doubled compensation; gaining the trust of Dream Of the Endless, held captive into the basement for over a century. Despite the shock of finding such an ethereal entity stripped of all his clothes and contained into a confined space, you had to accept for the sake of your father. But the more you got to speak to the mysterious anthropomorphic personification who didn’t utter a single word, the more you were lost into his eyes that, conversely, seemed to contain the entire universe. A deep connection formed between the two of you, separated only by a thick layer of glass.

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

Credits: The moon dividers were made by firefly-graphics

Tagging: @number-0-iz, @emarich7. If anyone else wants to be tagged in the next updates, let me know! I noticed that Tumblr sometimes won't let me tag everyone for some unknown reason, so if it comes to that I can at least send you a message to notify you.

You can also read this on AO3 if you feel more comfortable!

What initially appeared as a tedious and bothersome obstacle at work, turned out to be something far more sinister and perilous. Fortunately, Morpheus was there to safeguard you. Or rather, the essence of him that resided within your pendant.

Chapter 12

Upon awakening the next morning, it came as no surprise to find the necklace still securely adorning your neck, having traversed realms during the night. The touch of the stone against your skin evoked a sense of comforting warmth, tranquility, and security.

Your attention became completely absorbed as you gazed at the crystal's reflection in the mirror, almost losing track of time. Although the blue glow was no longer animated with a life of its own, it continued to radiate stunningly whenever the natural light illuminated the stone’s surface from various angles. It almost appeared to emit a gentle luminescence in the darkness, reminiscent of a magical Fairy amulet.

During your younger years, you cultivated a keen fascination for healing crystals and their diverse properties. Your interest was so deep that one Christmas Eve, your father gifted you a meticulously detailed book containing the names and descriptions of various crystals. From what you could recall, the Rainbow Moonstone held the distinction of being one of the most coveted and priciest stones available in the market, standing out from other minerals due to its iridescent color.

While you had never possessed one before, you held an unwavering conviction that no other Moonstone could come close to the enchantment and beauty of the jewel you had received from Morpheus. The pendant was far more than a mere decorative accessory, containing a fragment of his essence with the primary function of safeguarding you in his absence.

While you were uncertain about the specific intricacies, accepting the gift had brought immeasurable joy to your boyfriend, and ultimately, that was the most important thing to you.

Ella was absolutely thrilled to hear that her suggestion had been incredibly successful. Upon learning that you had formalized your relationship with Morpheus, she was overwhelmed with excitement and let out a joyous scream right in your ear. She eagerly asked to be introduced to your boyfriend, complimenting you on the captivating necklace that caught everyone's attention at work.

Furthermore, your colleagues were quick to observe a striking transformation in your appearance and couldn't resist praising your radiant and youthful look. The women in the office were curious about your skincare routine and makeup products, initially skeptical when you explained that you hadn't made any changes to your habits. However, after a while, they decided to let it go and returned to their tasks.

As they continued to describe you so highly, you couldn't help but question whether there was a correlation between their perception of you and the pendant you were wearing. Considering the fact that both Alex and Paul had experienced prolonged lifespans due to The Endless' presence in their basement, you started to entertain the possibility that the fragment of power infused into the stone might be having a similar effect on you.

Unfortunately, that seemed to further exacerbate the situation at work, with Maya's growing hostility causing trouble with a supplier. Despite her supposed competence in managing things, Maya failed to inform you about an important delivery of fabrics and materials scheduled for your day off. As a consequence, the supplier discovered that your team was ill-prepared and expressed his frustration, interpreting it as a lack of professionalism on your part. Luckily, you were able to resolve the issue by explaining that you were not informed about his arrival. After apologizing multiple times, he eventually calmed down and decided to let the matter go.

You confronted Maya about the situation, only for her to feign ignorance and insist that she had left a post-it note on your desk. While Ella dismissed the incident and speculated that the note had been lost accidentally, you couldn't shake the feeling that something much more malicious was happening against you.

Despite your suspicions, you made the choice to withhold any further complaints, aiming to deprive Maya of the satisfaction she sought. Instead, you channeled your energy into excelling at your job, and the rewarding outcome of your hard work was so satisfying that you didn't want to waste any more thoughts on Maya and her envy.

Your eyes filled with emotion as you witnessed your latest creation showcased on one of the massive LED screens in Piccadilly Circus. A wave of people expressed their admiration for the clothing designs and digital editing skills to such an extent that they were driven to scour local stores in pursuit of the coveted Corbyn&Jones brand.

Oliver reported that the sales were soaring in a manner unprecedented even with Isaac on their team. This only heightened the anticipation for the upcoming fashion show, bolstering the confidence that you had been lacking for quite some time.

Your father was overjoyed, taking a stroll every day just to marvel at your company's advertisements scattered throughout the city and boast about his daughter to anyone he encountered. Making him proud had always been your ultimate life goal, and now you could finally release the weight of anxiously fearing that you might disappoint him.

And yet, for some unknown reason, you had observed a sudden shift in his mood. On random occasions when you visited, you noticed him drifting off and appearing melancholic. Concerned, you felt the need to ensure that he wasn't concealing any physical decline, but you were relieved to hear that he was in better health than ever. Nevertheless, you still felt compelled to delve deeper and probe further to uncover the underlying issue.

Eventually, he disclosed that he was going through a post-traumatic episode, plagued by nightly nightmares stemming from the fear of falling ill again. Despite harboring a lingering uncertainty about the truthfulness of his words, you decided to confide in Morpheus and seek his aid. Your boyfriend reassured you that he would visit your father in his dreams to alleviate his distress and ease the man’s anxieties, earning a radiant smile and a tender kiss from you.

One night, Morpheus planned a delightful surprise that filled you with sheer happiness. He awaited you at the dream beach, wearing a charming little smile with his hands crossed in front of him. Instead of embarking on a typical adventure through enchanted realms or historical eras, Morpheus presented you with a formal invitation to his castle. He expressed his desire to give you a proper tour of his abode and to introduce you to Lucienne in a dignified way.

The moment Morpheus mentioned his librarian, your memory instantly conjured up the recollection of your encounter with her during a previous dream. While you had always regarded the entire realm of the Dreaming as Morpheus' home, the fact that he specifically invited you to his palace served to strengthen the love and trust he had for you.

With gentle guidance, Morpheus led you on a serene walk across a curved bridge that evoked a strong sense of familiarity, appearing to be the very same you had crossed on the day you reconciled. However, this time, there was no trace of fog or haziness to obstruct your view, allowing you to completely immerse yourself in the breathtaking scenery that unfolded before your eyes. Below, an expansive body of water stretched out, while two majestic stone hands supported the bridge, seemingly reaching towards the vast blue sky adorned with fluffy white clouds. Surrounding you, lush green hills extended as far as the eye could behold. To your astonishment, there appeared to be a woman intricately carved into the rocks, reclining and appearing at peace.

What captivated you the most was the sight of a grand palace that awaited you at the end of the path. It radiated enchantment, reminiscent of the Disney castle, the opulence of the Sultan's home from Aladdin, and the majestic landmarks found in RPG games. It’s towering pillars and soaring, pointed towers, were adorned with intricate domes that added to its grandeur.

Hovering just above the main doors were three mystical creatures: a Wyvern, a Griffin, and a Hippogriff, which you recognized from your readings. Contrary to its name, the Hippogriff did not possess the frontquarters of an eagle, but rather resembled a majestic winged horse. They shifted their positions, looking down at the two of you and adding an undeniable sense of fascination to the scene.

"You know, when I was a child, I always wished I could go to Disneyland. But now I realize that it would pale in comparison to this. Your realm is beyond anything I could have ever dreamed of.”

Morpheus leaned in close, whispering intimately in your ear. “My love, you are asleep.”

You suppressed the shiver that traveled down your spine, aware that his closeness elicited a physical response in your body. You didn't want to let those vibrations escalate into something more. Yet.

You chuckled softly, unable to contain your amusement. "Point taken," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. You let your fingers glide down his elbow, until your hand reached his wrist, where your fingers naturally intertwined with his.

Morpheus remained almost motionless, but you could sense his touch growing stronger against you. The doors at the entrance opened autonomously, offering a warm welcome to the King and his esteemed guest.

In your previous dreams, you were only able to catch glimpses of the castle, primarily making your way to the Throne room without the opportunity to explore any other areas in detail. Now, with Morpheus at your side, your dream was incredibly vivid and stable, allowing you to fully experience everything exactly as it was.

The dark floor gleamed with a flawless polish and reflected the ambient light, while the walls showcased an intricate and captivating Gothic architectural design. On either side, numerous column torches illuminated the surroundings with their flickering flames, casting a warm glow throughout the space.

Morpheus gracefully accompanied you as you traversed the crimson red carpet that extended along the main hall and gracefully ascended the grand staircase. As you made your way, you inspected the aged portraits and glass windows above you.

As you entered a new room, the architecture underwent a complete transformation, presenting a structure crafted entirely from wood. The yellow curtains were all drawn back, allowing the vibrant natural light to fill the space with its radiance.

At the far end of the room, someone stood before a printed wallpaper that showcased a remarkably realistic image of a library. Clad in what appeared to be a janitor uniform, the figure held a paint roller in their hand as they inspected the wall with a sense of contentment.

After a moment, you realized that it wasn't a person at all, but rather an eerie scarecrow-like creature with a massive pumpkin head in a typical Jack O’Lantern style.

Noticing your presence, the pumpkin man nervously cleared its throat and greeted its lord. "It’s finished, boss.”

You smiled as you observed the creature, noting that it had the voice of a grumpy middle-aged man.

"Thank you, Mervyn," Morpheus replied, releasing your hand and placing his fingers on your back. "Y/N, Mervyn is the caretaker of my castle, responsible for the upkeep and maintenance of the Dreaming.”

Mervyn's gaze narrowed as he locked eyes with you.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mervyn. You are doing a wonderful job," you said with genuine kindness.

Introducing yourself to such a fantastical character felt both peculiar and mesmerizing at the same time.

"Oh, I… well," he replied, visibly savoring your unexpected compliment. "Welcome to the castle.”

His statement lacked any hint of enthusiasm, but you surmised that it was simply a characteristic of his worn-out, wayward personality.

"I'll be nearby if you need me, boss.”

As you observed Mervyn walking away out of the corner of your eye, Morpheus gently encouraged you to move forward. He came to a stop in front of the wallpaper, and you couldn't help but admire its flawless integration with the wall, as if it were an intrinsic part of the structure itself. Gazing upon the image, you perceived a certain depth to it, creating the illusion of a genuine passage leading to the library.

To your surprise, you soon confirmed that the wallpaper was indeed as tangible as it seemed to be. Morpheus took a step forward, effortlessly passing through it and seamlessly crossing the threshold.

"Come," he beckoned, turning to you with a smug expression. "It poses no harm to you.”

You couldn't contain your laughter as you followed him, walking through the wallpaper and being instantly transported into a real, physical library. The sight of numerous shelves brimming with books enveloped you, creating a mesmerizing and immersive atmosphere that fueled the elation within you.

It was evident that Morpheus had deliberately chosen a longer route, leading you to a higher floor before descending along the metallic stairs. He found your reactions entertaining to observe, delighting in your wonder as you expressed admiration for everything before you.

The castle was far from ordinary, with its abundance of shortcuts that efficiently transitioned to Morpheus’ intended destinations. The Dreaming was something that defied description, unlike any amusement park one could find in the Waking World. It was a realm of constant metamorphosis, unpredictable and boundless, imbued with endless magic and mystery.

And yet, humans could only ever glimpse a small fragment of its vastness.

The height of the ceiling was unfathomable, stretching far beyond what you could imagine. The sight of the long spiraling stairs made you question if anyone would ever dare to climb them, as they seemed to ascend in such a way that even watching them felt terrifying.

Comparing yourself to Belle from Beauty and the Beast felt like an understatement, as every aspect of your adventure reflected elements from the known fairytale. The grand castle, the magnificent library, the dress you wore, the mystical characters in the halls, and the presence of the godly creature beside you, who had often been depicted as a monster by many.

He was the King of Dreams and Nightmares. But above all, he was your enchanting boyfriend, your savior, and the hero of your childhood. Anything but a monster.

When you locked eyes with him, he raised an eyebrow inquisitively, but you didn't give him the chance to speak. Bringing your hands to either side of his face, you leaned in and pressed a passionate, joyful kiss against his lips, savoring every moment in a lingering embrace. Time seemed to stand still as you cherished the connection between you.

As you slowly pulled away, the sound of your lips parting from his reverberated through the air. He tenderly grasped one of your wrists, softly stroking it up and down with his cool hand. "What was that?" he questioned, The glint of satisfaction in his eyes indicated that he was by no means annoyed by it.

"I'm just so incredibly happy to be here that I couldn't resist expressing it,” you replied. “Thank you for this.”

"No need. You will always be welcome to my realm, and my castle.”

As your smile widened, you gently smoothed out his coat and affectionately adjusted his collar, even though there was nothing noticeably amiss with it. Stepping back, you gently ran your fingers along the wooden surface of one of the prominent tables at the center, feeling the cold texture as if you were touching it in the Waking World. There was no lack of contact with the surface, and your fingers didn't sink into it or appear strange to the eye.

The table was nearly swallowed by a collection of scrolls, bulky tomes, and various vintage boxes. Your curiosity enticed you to delve deeper into the contents, but you restrained yourself, choosing not to pry.

The sound of approaching footsteps grabbed your attention, prompting you to lift your head from the sea of objects. Emerging from behind a shelf, Lucienne appeared, clutching a book that dwarfed all the other volumes on the expansive desk.

She looked exactly as you remembered, sporting the same pair of round glasses perched on her nose and her distinctive pointy ears. Her jacket had been cast aside, giving her a more casual appearance with the dark purple vest and long-sleeved white shirt.

As she glanced up, she spotted you and Morpheus standing before her, hastily setting the weighty book aside.

"Oh, my apologies, sir. I didn't hear you coming," she said politely. "I see you've brought a special guest.”

"Lucienne, I am certain you remember Y/N.”

Morpheus' voice was deep and low, resonating through your entire being as he placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Of course, my Lord.”

Lucienne’s gentle eyes sparkled in the dim library light, and a soft smile graced her face as she drew nearer. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Y/N.”

Overwhelmed by the magnitude of the moment, you allowed your boldness to take over. Without hesitation, you embraced Lucienne, wrapping your arms around her neck and giving her a gentle squeeze.

"Oh dear," she exclaimed, her voice filled with surprise as she stood frozen in shock.

Inexplicably, you had a sense of familiarity with her that extended beyond the very brief interaction you had with the woman once. Perhaps it was because of the deep attachment you had formed to the Dreaming, and subsequently, to everything that was a part of it.

"The pleasure is mine, Lucienne.”

As you slowly disentangled from the embrace and released her, she quickly regained her composure, straightening her posture and gesturing towards the bookshelves around her.

"Welcome to the Library. Here, we have every book ever written, as well as those yet unwritten,” she explained.

"This place is absolutely incredible," you said in amazement. "I wouldn't even know where to begin.”

Morpheus regarded you with a hint of pride, but then, he had to interject. "It is here that I take my leave of you. You are in good hands with Lucienne.”

As his touch left your skin, a pang of disappointment tugged at your heart. "Do you have to leave?" you asked, almost hoping for a different answer.

"Yes, for the moment," he answered. "I will return.”

While you had hoped that he would remain by your side throughout the entirety of your dream, you realized that being his girlfriend didn't automatically entitle you to have him all to yourself. Given the multitude of dreamers in the realm, it came as no surprise that the King of Dreams had important matters to attend to. While you held a special place in his heart, there were occasions when Morpheus’ priorities took precedence over your personal desires.

And so you nodded, holding back from showing any affectionate gestures in front of his librarian. Morpheus acknowledged your understanding with a silent but complicit look as he walked away.

Alone with Lucienne, she wasted no time in asking about your literary preferences and offering to give you a comprehensive tour of the entire place. The idea was enticing, and you found yourself eagerly following her around. Her speeches were remarkably smooth and detailed, showcasing her formal yet clear manner of explaining things.

Upon returning to the main table, she graciously invited you to take a seat on the most luxurious armchair positioned behind it. In your hands, you held the largest and grandest book you had ever laid eyes on. It was a novel that had yet to be published, a carefully guarded fantasy reading that she graciously allowed you to glimpse into.

After some time had passed, Matthew swooped through the library and landed gracefully in front of you, greeting you warmly with his usual cheerful demeanor. With your excitement still running high, you gently cradled the raven in your hands, planting a kiss on the top of his head.

If birds were capable of blushing, you were certain that Matthew would have turned crimson red.

"Oh, wow. That was unexpected," he blurted out.

His comment earned a soft chuckle from you, while Lucienne simply broke into an amused grin.

It felt as though your dream could have lasted forever. You remained there for what seemed like hours, although it was likely that time flowed differently in that realm compared to your own. With Lucienne's permission, you wandered amidst the countless shelves, gazing at the myriad of books they held as you relished in the scent of paper and old leather.

Eventually, you became completely absorbed in the books, taking one after another and running your fingertips or nails along the pages before carefully placing them back. The Library was overflowing with knowledge, and the wealth of history and literature you discovered there was more inspiring than anything you had ever come across in the Waking World.

The Dreaming was a true treasure, something that needed to be safeguarded at all costs. The mere thought of it being destroyed, reduced to rubble and dust by the hands of one man driven by greed, only intensified your contempt for humanity.

As you carefully set the last book onto its designated shelf, you were taken by surprise when Morpheus' voice resonated in your ear, causing you to nearly jump in startlement.

"Hello.”

When you turned around, you found him standing magnificently close to you, his gaze filled with love as he looked upon your face.

"Hi," you responded. “I thought you were busy.”

"I was.”

You noticed that he was gradually moving closer, gently pressing you against the shelf behind you.

"I was hoping to see you again before waking up,” you muttered.

“Here I am.”

“Here you are.”

As your back made contact with the wooden structure, a soft gasp escaped your lips. He remained silent, his fingers indulging as they traced along the fabric of your dress.

With a mixture of apprehension and a sudden, growing arousal in the pit of your stomach, you whispered to him, “We’re not alone.”

"We are," he stated firmly. "I have used my power to isolate this part of the library. It is just you and me.”

His lips slightly parted, and in the presence of his aura, the Moonstone necklace reacted, emanating a vibrant blue glow that grew in intensity as if it were dancing.

Unconsciously, you darted the tip of your tongue out to moisten your lower lip. "Oh.”

"Are you disappointed?" he asked, his voice filled with a hint of concern.

You shook your head. "Why would I be?”

"Perhaps you had something else in mind," he clarified, taking a handful of fabric into his hands.

Your heart began to race even faster. "Morpheus, you can't be serious.”

“About what?”

Your breath was trembling, and you could feel the anticipation building as he skillfully worked along your dress, gradually lifting the gown up, bit by bit.

"You know the effect you have on me," you replied.

Hearing that, a corner of his lips lifted in a subtle smile. "Do I?”

As he raised your skirt to the desired height, he slipped one of his hands beneath it. His fingers delicately lingered on the hem of your underwear, playfully toying with the lacy fabric.

"You do," you remarked with a mixture of confidence and desire. "Very well, in fact.”

He brought his mouth tantalizingly close to yours, his lips hovering just a breath away. "You speak truly, my love.”

Before you could utter a response, your voice was cut off as his index and middle fingers brushed against your covered clit, descending just below it to confirm your need. As he continued to touch you, you could feel the wetness building and spreading with each stroke, moving back and forth in a steady, delicate rhythm.

“Morpheus-”

“I know.”

As his mouth eagerly melded with yours, you responded with equal hunger, your arms encircling his shoulders as you pulled him closer. Your tongues entwined in a passionate waltz, while his fingers ventured delicately, exploring your entrance through the fabric of your undergarment.

In the Waking World, you repeatedly tossed and turned in your bed, tightly clutching the sheets as your dream exerted its influence on you.

The last time you had a night out was during your college days. When Ella invited you to join the team for a dinner and drinks, you were initially tempted to decline. However, your friend was insistent and wouldn't take no for an answer.

Ella arrived at 7 PM to pick you up, with Oliver at the wheel of their Volkswagen Golf. If she already looked stunning in her office attire, she now radiated with the glamour of a Hollywood diva. Her green eyes and blond hair, elegantly styled in a bun, were enhanced by a captivating mossy tube dress. Oliver couldn't resist showering Ella with loving and appreciative comments, expressing his admiration for her beauty. However, he also took the time to respectfully compliment your appearance, a sentiment that Ella readily endorsed.

You spent an unreasonable amount of time in front of the closet, and your indecisiveness put you at risk of being late. Ultimately, you opted for a classy dress that struck a perfect balance, neither too short nor overly long.

If you were already feeling nervous before, the news that Maya would also be present only intensified your uneasiness. No matter how hard you tried to treat her kindly and show that you welcomed her presence at work, every attempt resulted in her spewing venom at you. You repeatedly cautioned both Ella and Oliver about the negative impression she was making on you, but they consistently ignored your concerns, convinced that she would eventually warm up.

You knew better than anyone else that your gut feeling was never wrong.

Regrettably, there was little you could do to improve the situation. Maya had worked for the company much longer than you had, and despite the importance of your role, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were seen as a paranoid newcomer. Although you cherished your relationship with Ella and wouldn't trade your job for anything else, you yearned for the ability to go to the office without the constant fear of the havoc that Maya's malignant plans could unleash.

Upon arriving at the designated location, Oliver expertly parked the car across the street. He then walked alongside Ella, embodying the persona of a perfect gentleman as he offered his arm to her. Deep down, you felt a longing to include Morpheus in these social gatherings, but you were aware that he preferred not to partake in such human events. After all, the King of Dreams and Nightmares wouldn't exactly fit in at a casual pizza night.

Maya, along with a few other colleagues, had already made her presence known, clad in a black leather jacket and a form-fitting red dress. Her long, dark curls had always been the feature you admired most about her. They were wild and full, yet smooth and shiny. Her lips were consistently adorned with her signature coral tint, and the dark makeup she wore accentuated her brown eyes, making them stand out even more.

There was no denying that she was absolutely gorgeous, but there was an unsettling energy about her that didn't sit well with you.

Contrary to your expectations, the dinner turned out to be a delightful experience. Your colleagues were just as enjoyable outside of work as they were within the office, and you discovered that you shared many common interests with most of them. Laughter filled the air as you engaged in lively conversations, relishing in the taste of one of the most delicious pizza you had ever ordered. As you let your mind wander and unwind, you found yourself truly able to relax.

While the unique connection you had with Morpheus and his realm was incomparable, the company of your new friends brought more comfort and enrichment to your waking life.

All of them, except for one person.

Maya remained silent throughout the entire dinner, only offering brief responses to occasional questions. You couldn't shake off the feeling that her intense gaze was aimed at you like daggers, but for the sake of your sanity, you chose to pretend not to notice.

Around midnight, Ella proposed the idea of heading to a nearby club for one last drink and a dance, aiming to give that perfect night an unforgettable ending.

Although you were not typically one to enjoy wild parties, the unanimous agreement made you hesitant to go home alone. While clubs were not your preferred choice, you didn't want to dampen the mood of such a fantastic night with a complaint. Reluctantly, you accepted to join them, despite your reservations.

The music wasn't terrible, but it happened to be excessively loud for your liking. Every time you wanted to say something, you had to shout in someone's ear, only to be asked to repeat it. Due to the limited space available, you had no choice but to occupy a small table with a round couch that left you all crumpled and tightly squeezed together. Additionally, your cocktail was so strong that you had no choice but to leave most of it untouched.

Ella had always been fond of clubs, a passion that had developed since her teenage years. Apart from you, the only person who seemed to feel out of place was Oliver, but he still wore a charming smile for the sake of his wife. For the next hour or so, he lovingly watched her revel in the joy of the dance floor, spinning and leaping to the rhythm. Whenever someone ventured too close, he swiftly stepped in, encircling her in a protective embrace.

As your throat grew parched and you couldn't bear to take another sip of your dreadful drink, you stood up from the couch and headed to the bar for a refreshing soda. From there, you continued to gaze at the married couple, smiling and admiring the beautiful way they complemented each other in everything they did.

But then, your thoughts took a sharp turn when you heard a male voice, unfamiliar and filled with flirtation, right beside you.

"Hey beautiful, are you here alone?”

When you turned to look at the stranger, you noticed that he was standing uncomfortably close to you, emanating a strong scent reminiscent of a beer barrel.

"I'm not," you replied, attempting to move away from his sweaty presence.

"Oh really? I don't see anyone else," he retorted.

You let out a grunt. "My friends are over there," you pointed with your head. "And I'm waiting for my boyfriend.”

Unfortunately, the man was unfazed by your response. "Yeah, sure. That's quite an old excuse."

Getting away from him proved to be quite a challenge, as the more you distanced yourself, the more persistently he pursued you.

"It's not an excuse," you falsely claimed. "And I genuinely want you to respect my boundaries and leave me alone.”

The man erupted into laughter, throwing his head back and slamming his hand against the counter. "Oh, I do love a woman who can challenge me," he exclaimed.

"Good for you.”

You moved away from the counter, determined to walk past him without any further obstacles. However, once again, the man intercepted you, blocking your path and forcefully gripping your upper arm. Panic surged through you as your eyes darted around, realizing that you were completely isolated. None of your friends seemed to notice your distress from their positions, and the growing crowd only served to hinder any potential assistance.

You tugged at your arm, but the grip around it refused to loosen.

"Come on, dance with me. How bad could it be?" he insisted, trying to persuade you.

You gritted your teeth, furrowed your eyebrows, and shot him one of the most menacing looks you could muster. As you did so, you failed to notice that the necklace was beginning to glow amidst the flashing, colorful lights of the club.

To your surprise, just as you anticipated him to persist and attempt to drag you away, the man's gaze abruptly shifted upwards. His face turned pale, and his eyes widened in sheer terror, as if they were on the verge of popping out of their sockets.

For a moment, you considered the possibility that he might have consumed some illicit substance that induced hallucinations, given his startled expression resembling someone who had just encountered a ghost.

His grip loosened, releasing your arm as his hand slowly withdrew. "I... I'm sorry. I didn't know... I mean... I didn't think..." he stammered.

As a familiar black figure emerged from behind you, everything fell into place, and all became clear.

"I am quite certain that she has requested for you to keep your distance," Morpheus stated, locking eyes with the man, his hands tucked into his pockets, and a sinister aura surrounding him. All the sounds in the dancing hall became muffled, and all you could hear now was his voice alone.

“Y-Yes, she did, I-”

“I strongly suggest that you comply," Morpheus warned with an authoritative tone. "Unless you wish to face the consequences for your impertinence.”

The man was shaking so violently now that you thought he might faint right then and there. In an instant, he turned on his wobbling legs and sprinted away, crashing into a few people as he made his exit.

Everything around you regained its clarity, and the music resumed the loud thumping in the air. As Morpheus's gaze met yours, you couldn't resist the urge to take a step forward, filled with eagerness for physical contact. "What are you doing here?" you asked.

He hesitated, his eyes lowering to the pendant around your neck. "I needed to speak with you.”

Although you were confident that you could have found a way to extricate yourself from that situation, you were more than grateful for his intervention.

You were about to respond, but before you could even open your mouth, Ella and Oliver appeared beside you. "Y/N? Is everything okay?”

Ella's focus immediately shifted to Morpheus, who reciprocated by looking directly at her without any visible reaction.

"Yes, just a drunken idiot who tried to force himself on me. But he's gone now," you explained.

Immediately, Ella's countenance brightened as she pieced everything together, giving you that familiar knowing look. But before she could ask any more questions or address Morpheus directly, the Endless leaned slightly closer to you.

"Follow me."

And with that, he turned away, disappearing into the crowd as he made his way towards the exit.

You realized that Morpheus didn't seem inclined to be part of your friendly exchange. As much as you wanted to introduce him to them, you also wished to respect his need for privacy.

"Sorry about that," you said apologetically. "He's reserved and not particularly fond of crowded places.”

At that, Ella emitted a soft hum of comprehension. "So he's your boyfriend?" she asked over the music.

"Yes, that's him."

"Damn, girl. I can see why you're so into him," Ella remarked with a playful grin.

"Oh, come on! You can't say that in front of your husband," you exclaimed, playfully scolding your friend for her customary daring.

"You know how she is," Oliver chimed in, completely at ease and unaffected. "And I must confess, even as a man, I can understand her perspective.”

"See? That's why I married him!”

Seeing them so close-knit was rejuvenating, as they were the perfect embodiment of true love that had weathered many obstacles to fully blossom. With a final, warm smile, you wrapped an arm around Ella's shoulder to speak into her ear, your throat burning for the exertion. "I have to go, he's waiting for me.”

"Don't let me hold you back, then. Enjoy the rest of your night!”

With a playful wink, she hinted at a deeper meaning behind her words, causing you to shake your head in amusement. Oliver nodded politely, bidding you a final farewell, to which you responded with a light pat on his arm. "See you at work, guys."

And so, you deftly wove through the throng of people, their bodies pressed together as they danced and celebrated like there was no tomorrow. When you finally reached the door, you pushed the bar to open it, taking a moment to adjust your jacket and shield yourself from the chilly night air.

Standing in front of the entrance, Morpheus had his feet slightly apart and his hands once again tucked into the pockets of his coat. Unconcerned by his solemn demeanor, you planted a kiss on his cheek.

When he didn't reciprocate your gesture and instead remained motionless, gazing downwards, your smile faded away. “What’s wrong?”

He took a moment to reply, his lips parting, but no words emerged right away.

"I disapprove of your choice of clothing.”

That was definitely not the answer you were expecting.

"Why...? Does this dress not look good on me?" you asked, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

"No, quite the opposite," he said, his voice softening. "These mortals should not have the audacity to lay their hands on you.”

The relief and warmth you felt were incomparable, causing your grip around his coat to weaken. He averted his gaze from you, his attention moving to the ground as if finding it suddenly more interesting.

"In other words, you're jealous," you concluded with a smile.

“No.”

“You’re not?”

"Not exactly," he clarified. "But I do have concerns about other men touching you.”

You laughed, brushing your nose against his. "Which means you are, indeed, jealous," you teased.

He swallowed, struggling to find the right words to explain himself, but ultimately coming up empty-handed.

In the end, he sighed in resignation. "Very well. If it makes you feel better," he conceded.

You pressed your lips against his, savoring their softness and fullness. "You have no idea."

He relaxed at your touch, finally letting his hands leave their safe haven and wrap around your waist. "I do not want anyone else to claim what is rightfully mine," he declared with possessiveness.

If anything, his words only intensified your euphoria.

"As if anyone could ever succeed at that. I am yours and yours alone," you declared with unwavering conviction.

Morpheus let out a long breath, closing his eyes as he lightly traced his lips along your forehead, leaving a trail of tender pecks on your skin.

How long had you longed for a man who would exhibit such a profound level of care for you? Someone who would take action for your well-being and hold you in such high regard, considering you an indispensable part of his life.

At that point, the number of years had become immeasurable. That feeling had been ingrained for so long that it had become an integral part of your being, woven into the very fabric of your existence.

"Y/N," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "There is an important matter I need to apprise you of.”

You locked eyes with him, curiosity and apprehension filling your gaze. "Right, you mentioned that you wanted to talk to me. What is it?"

You could sense his nervousness, as if he were apprehensive about divulging the contents of what he had been keeping inside.

"It is about Calliope," he revealed. "She was captured by a human 60 years ago.”

You were overcome with a sense of dread, feeling your chest constricting with pain. "What...?”

"She turned to me for help, calling my name," he explained, his voice tinged with remorse. "But my realm was not in a suitable condition for me to intervene, and my powers needed to be restored.”

You nodded, signaling for him to continue.

“She is bound by the law, I cannot help her. Not directly.”

You pinched your nose in frustration, feeling exasperated. "What is wrong with humans imprisoning gods? This is absolutely ridiculous.”

His fingers tightened their grip on your back, pulling you closer to him.

"Is there anything you can do?" you asked with desperation. "I saw what they did to you when you were trapped in that sphere. I can only imagine the suffering she is enduring right now.”

Morpheus nodded, his expression determined. "There is," he affirmed.

Under normal circumstances, the knowledge that his ex-wife had summoned him would have been cause for concern. However, this time, the urgency to seek justice was undeniable. After what happened to Morpheus, it was impossible to ignore that someone else was exploiting a deity, subjecting her to unimaginable torture.

“Then you must go,” you asserted.

"I seek an extensive favor of you," he uttered, "Yet, is there a prospect for you to wait for my return?”

Was he truly contemplating the idea that you would terminate your recently formed relationship? Was he sincerely afraid of losing you solely because he intended to help his former partner with a situation he had gone through himself?

"Morpheus, I won't stand in your way. Calliope was once your wife and the mother of your son, so I shouldn't expect you to abandon her now that she has no other means of escape. And please know that I would never want that either.”

Morpheus smiled, albeit subtly, but you could still catch a glimpse of it.

“I'll wait for you, no matter how long it takes.”

"You, Y/N Y/L, are the most extraordinary creature which I have ever encountered throughout my entire existence.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and a blush spread across your cheeks, impossible to hide. "That can't be true, I'm just a mere human.”

"You are far greater than you believe yourself to be, my sweet love.”

That was the ultimate reassurance you needed, erasing any remnants of doubt. Your love and trust for Morpheus encompassed every aspect of your being, and in your heart, you stood firm, unencumbered by even the slightest fear of never being reunited with him.

As the two of you strolled across the street, leaving the club behind, Maya eyed you with an intense, fiery fixation. She attempted to quell her anger by biting her nails, but the escalating blaze within her had already consumed the final shreds of her tolerance.

That night, she made a solemn vow to herself that she would make what you had her own, regardless of the consequences.

While you undeniably had complete faith in Morpheus, a part of you couldn't help but think about the potential outcomes of him meeting his wife again. You were completely supportive of him offering her his help; you knew she was in trouble, and the last thing you wanted was for Calliope to endure another 60 years of imprisonment.

Despite the tremendous tragedy they both had faced, you couldn't dismiss the possibility of them somehow reconciling. You knew that he loved you, and he made it clear on more than one occasion. But if things were to take a different turn, would he still choose you above anything and anyone else?

You felt so confident and resolute when you assured him that you were completely okay with what needed to be done. So why couldn't you shake off this newfound sense of anxiety now?

Throughout the entire following day, you made a conscious effort not to dwell on it. You worked overtime without even realizing that you were supposed to be home an hour earlier, to the point that Ella had to physically pull you away from your computer.

When you arrived home, your stomach was in knots, and you didn't have much of an appetite. You tried to text Hob about the idea of grabbing a drink at the New Inn, but unfortunately, he was already engrossed in a post-dinner briefing with the teaching staff.

And so, you settled on the couch with a cozy blanket draped over your legs and a steaming mug of tea in your hands. You flipped through TV channels in search of a captivating movie, documentary, or reality show to distract and exhaust you. The empty plate from the small dinner you had eaten sat on the coffee table, and you stared at it for a while before deciding that you had absolutely no motivation to wash it.

The coziness of the living room, the plush cushions beneath you, and the cocooning warmth of your blanket were so comforting that you started to drift off to sleep, placing the half-empty mug next to the neglected plate.

Your mind started to explore various destinations you could visit. However, considering Morpheus's preoccupation with his ex-wife's predicament, the dream beach was not a suitable option to choose. You felt like visiting Lucienne once again and explore more of the library, but then your thoughts changed as you were reminded of Abel and Cain, along with their beautiful Gargoyle companion, Gregory.

For a moment, you had forgotten about it all until Morpheus freed himself from the basement and resumed his position as the King of Dreams. You reminisced about their kindness and the joy they exuded in the presence of a dreamer, in a realm that had been disconnected from humanity. The tea they served was delightful, and their companionship felt like being with a family you would cherish spending Christmas with.

As you tried to vividly recollect their land, your head found solace against the plush pillows on the couch. Gradually, you felt yourself becoming weightless, floating in the air and twirling like a leaf gracefully dancing in the wind.

It took some time for your full lucidity to return in your dream. As you walked through a beautiful, verdant forest that seemed to glow and transform with each step, a few brilliant fireflies encircled you, emitting a soft and enchanting sound. Your consciousness heightened as you found yourself standing in front of a bridge at the edge of the woodland, with two familiar houses proudly standing at the end of it.

Feeling exhilarated, you sprinted towards the shared garden, which seemed to radiate even more vibrancy and meticulous maintenance compared to your first visit.

“Cain! Able! Are you there?”

Without hesitation, you called out their names, and as if in response, the doors swung open simultaneously. Standing before you were the two hosts, their expressions filled with surprise upon seeing you.

“Oh! It’s Y/N!!”

As Abel hurried towards you, you eagerly grasped his hands, giving them a firm squeeze and shaking them with excitement. “Hello, Able. It’s so nice to see you again.”

Cain also joined the gathering, and after you released Abel's hands, he delicately took hold of one of yours. With a graceful bow, he displayed a gesture of chivalry towards you. “Y/N, Welcome back to our land.”

"Thank you, Cain. I apologize for abruptly waking up during my visit here.”

"Oh, there's no need to worry," replied Abel. "It happens quite often.”

You smiled brightly, marveling at the elegance and virtue of their garden, which had been fully restored to its former glory. But as you quickly surveyed the area, you immediately sensed that something, or rather someone, was absent from the scene. “Where’s Gregory?”

Suddenly, your question cast a somber mood, causing Cain and Abel to lower their heads in a gesture of mourning.

Cain scoffed and turned away, while Abel let out a heavy sigh and looked at you with tear-filled eyes. "Gregory is no longer with us, I’m afraid," he said.

"Oh no... What happened...?”

You remembered how the Gargoyle had startled you by descending at full speed, only to greet you with the most adorable big snout you had ever seen.

"Well, you see," Able explained, "Lord Morpheus needed his power restored, and at that time, Gregory was the only thing that still contained a fragment of it.”

"I understand," you replied.

"But you know," he continued, his smile returning. "I believe he left something else in return.”

As you tilted your head, about to ask what it was, the actual answer materialized right before your eyes. To your surprise, what appeared to be a baby Gargoyle climbed up onto Abel's shoulder, settling itself comfortably on it. It resembled a miniature version of Gregory, complete with a pair of large, curious red eyes that stared intensely at you.

Able gently scooped up the little creature in his hands, offering you a chance to hold it. "Y/N, this is Goldie. Isn't he the cutest little Gargoyle?”

As Goldie opened his mouth in what appeared to be a wide, innocent smile, your heart melted. The moment Abel gently placed him in your hands, an overwhelming desire to hold him forever flooded over you.

"Are you kidding me? He's the cutest thing I've ever laid eyes on," you expressed, delighting in the way Goldie clung to your thumbs for support.

As you looked up, you noticed Cain watching the two of you with a silent adoration, cherishing the sight of how well you and Goldie harmonized together. When your eyes met, Cain cleared his throat, attempting to mask his moment of vulnerability with a gruff comment. "Please, come inside. Tea is almost ready.”

He straightened his vest and turned around, walking briskly and crossing the threshold of his house. Abel leaned closer to you, lowering his voice so that his brother couldn't overhear. "Cain is angry about what Lord Morpheus did to Gregory, but I believe he left the egg with Goldie as a way to apologize."

Knowing Morpheus, you knew that he had no intention of taking Gregory away. Therefore, it came as no surprise to you that he felt compelled to repay them for the loss he had been forced to inflict.

“I’m sure that was the case,” you told him with a nod. “Can I keep him for a while?”

You felt a sense of peace as Goldie nestled into your hands. You instinctively cradled him against your chest, as if he were a precious human child in need of comfort.

"Of course!" he exclaimed, extending his arm for you to hold. "Would you care for some tea, my friend?”

With another warm smile, you grasped his arm with enthusiasm. "Absolutely!"

Once again, the tea was exquisite. Cain and Abel engaged in their banter over trivial matters, and you found their interactions highly entertaining to watch. They treated you with gentleness and kindness, offering their utmost respect, as if you were a princess to be revered and celebrated.

Goldie settled in your lap, stretching his tiny limbs and finding solace on your legs. Slowly, he drifted into slumber, his little body and tiny wings rising and falling with each peaceful breath, accompanied by the sweet and endearing sounds he made. With one hand, you lovingly stroked his warm head, letting your fingertips glide over his velvety skin.

Fortunately, your tea time was not interrupted by any sudden awakenings. The brothers captivated you with enthralling tales about the Dreaming, and they even accompanied you on a wonderful walk through their seemingly boundless garden, where every step unveiled new marvels and splendors. Goldie seemed to have developed a deep affection for you, staying perched on your shoulder and playfully tugging at your hair as you walked along.

It was only when the alarm on your phone resonated through the living room that the familiar haziness of the REM phase enveloped you. Reluctantly, you felt yourself being pulled back to the Waking World, leaving your Dreaming friends behind a second time.

As you woke up, you gently rubbed your tired eyes, slowly rising from the couch and reaching to turn off the TV. Despite feeling relaxed and content after such a beautiful dream, there was a lingering sense of contemplation in your heart. Thoughts of Morpheus and Calliope persistently occupied your mind, and you attempted to dismiss any notions that arose.

That day at work was incredibly chaotic, with an overwhelming influx of tasks vying for attention all at once. With the Fashion Show looming closer, the weight of creating and designing numerous new products pressed heavily on your shoulders, leaving little room for respite or even a moment to catch your breath.

Glued to your computer from morning until evening, you finally reached the end of your work, saving your files and stretching your arms in relief. A smile spread across your face as you gazed at the clothes hanging in front of you, freshly sewn and poised to be captured in photographs. As you turned off the lights and closed the door of the studio, you gently cracked your aching neck and let out a weary sigh.

A peculiar sound from behind captured your attention, causing you to abruptly stop and pivot on your heels. As you glanced down the corridor, everything appeared to be normal, with no one in sight and nothing out of the ordinary. Dismissing it as nothing, you continued on your way.

With most of the team already gone, you made a detour to Ella's office to share your new sketches and discuss the upcoming plans before calling it a day and heading home. Things were going so seamlessly that you were able to fit in more than originally discussed, expanding the collection and outlining the presentation for the Show. Since you joined the team, the Corbyn&Jones brand had gained significant recognition, and Ella couldn't help but boast about how fortunate she was to have you as a friend.

If it weren't for Ella and the enduring friendship that kept you connected, truth be told, you might not have reached a similar milestone in your life. While your skills and creativity undoubtedly played a crucial role, it was the call she gave you that served as the perfect catalyst to help you fully blossom.

You had everything you had ever wanted and then some.

But as we all know, the most beautiful rainbows often emerge after the fiercest storms. And while you had encountered your fair share of challenges in the past, here was an imminent threat of something potentially catastrophic happening that evening.

Ella stood up from her desk, gathering her belongings and placing them back into her bag. She switched off the table light before preparing to leave, but a strange smell filled the air, causing you to instinctively sniff a few times to confirm that you weren't mistaken.

It was rather faint, seemingly insignificant and perhaps not worth worrying about, but it undeniably seemed like something had been overcooked.

"Ella? Is it just me, or do you also smell something burning?”

She halted, furrowing her eyebrows and taking a deep breath to investigate. She inhaled, then exhaled slowly, repeating the process two more times consecutively.

"No, wait. It’s not just you.”

Confused, you both stared at each other in silence, until the fire alarm in the office abruptly blared to life. Your heart leaped into your chest as the door swung open, and a panting Amelia rushed in, her face turning pale.

"Girls, we have a problem," she declared. "I believe there is a fire coming from the studio.”

You gasped. "What?! But I was just there a few minutes ago!”

"I don't know, I saw smoke coming out. I didn't dare open the door.”

Ella let out a frustrated curse, nervously scratching her arm as she began to pace back and forth. "Is anyone else still here besides us?" she asked anxiously.

Amelia shook her head. "Harry left 10 minutes ago. It's just the three of us.”

A thought crossed your mind, and in an instant, a wave of dread surged through your stomach. “Shit, Ella. The studio. Everything we have is in there.”

"What about the USB drive?”

Your breath became shallow. "It's in my desk drawer. In the studio.”

“…Fuck me sideways.”

As the smell of burning intensified, you also noticed a trail of smoke beginning to fill the corridor.

"I'll get the fire extinguisher," Ella said. "Amy, call 999 immediately. We don't know what we're up against here.”

“Right away!”

A wave of nervousness climbed over you, and the fear of potentially losing everything you had worked so hard for twisted your gut, leaving you feeling unsettled. The backup of all your work since you joined the company, the meticulously crafted clothes reserved for the Fashion Show, and even the catalog of the latest collection, yet to be published in the monthly magazine. All of it was now at risk, if not already reduced to ashes.

Without giving it much thought and disregarding caution, you sprinted out of the office as fast as you could.

“Y/N, wait!!”

The path to the studio was shrouded in darkness and thick fog, causing you to struggle for breath and cough violently. Through the crack under the door, you could see an ominous orange glow, accompanied by puffs of smoke billowing out.

Opening the door was the last thing you should have done, but driven by your instinct and worries, you reached for the handle and pushed it down. As soon as you stepped into the room, you were met with a growing fire, fierce flames consuming part of the apparel and spreading along the cables connecting the computers to the electrical panel.

One of the monitors had been damaged, emitting sparks, while another one was dangerously close to overheating.

“What the-!?”

Ella stood right behind you, holding the fire extinguisher in her hands, paralyzed by the sight before her. The temperature in the studio had become almost unbearable, as if you were stepping directly into the depths of Hell.

Holding your ground, you ran to your desk and opened the drawer, retrieving the USB drive that had fortunately remained safely away from the approaching flames. The catalog was also within your reach, and with a quick motion, you extended your arm to secure it.

Ella started using the extinguisher to spray a section of the fire, successfully keeping it partially under control. However, despite her efforts, the other side of the room continued to deteriorate, with the flames intensifying by the second and spreading at an alarming rate.

"Y/N, Amy just went down. We need to leave as well, now!" Ella shouted urgently.

You knew that she was right, but you couldn't bring yourself to abandon everything as it was. Spotting a section of clothing that was still untouched by the fire, you hurriedly gathered as many pieces as you could and tossed them over your shoulder, disregarding the scattered hangers on the floor.

“Y/N, just leave it!”

Ignoring the imminent danger, you persisted in removing the clothes from their hangers. You persevered until you had taken off the very last garment, even though the other half had already been irreversibly ruined.

“Watch out!!”

Everything happened in such a blur that it was difficult for you to process and make sense of it all. The electrical panel on your right exploded as soon as the flames reached the main circuits, and you found yourself engulfed in a colossal tongue of fire that transformed everything around you into a fiery red inferno.

You struggled to catch your breath, battling against the overpowering heat that enveloped you. However, despite the circumstances, an inexplicable calmness replaced fear within you. Despite the high risk of being consumed by the flames or suffering severe injuries because of it, you felt an indescribable calmness settling in your chest. As your pendant began to emit a vibrant blue light, the ferocious flames were swept away by its glow. You felt a protective aura expand around your entire being, shielding you from the fire right where you stood.

As the flames diminished, you emerged from them completely unharmed, not a single mark blemishing your skin. Ella, astounded and wide-eyed with disbelief, hurried towards you, reaching out to touch your face, needing to confirm for herself that you had truly emerged unscathed.

“You... how…?”

Realizing there was no time to spare, you jolted Ella out of her stupor by placing a few articles of clothing into her arms. "Let's go."

With her mouth agape, she nodded in compliance and used the remaining power in the extinguisher to douse a few more flames in front of you. Yet, as the fire expanded and reached the entrance, creating an intensified wall of dense smoke, the extinguisher ran out of its capacity, leaving you without any means to overcome the blockage.

"Stay by my side," you instructed, encircling an arm around Ella's waist as the two of you navigated through it.

“Wait, there is no way out…”

The necklace continued to emit a brilliant blaze of light, and with a firm clench of your jaw, you tightened your grip around Ella. Fueled by unwavering determination, you pressed on, forging ahead.

“Y/N, we’re walking right into it!”

“Trust me,” you told her. “Just keep moving!”

And so she did, with no other option remaining as the room was nearly consumed.

The empty extinguisher fell to the floor with a resounding thud as Ella tightly gripped your shirt, desperately clinging to you for support. The energy from the pendant now encompassed both of you, creating an imperceptible barrier that repelled the flames, causing them to bounce against it.

As you continued walking towards the elevator, Ella's gaze remained transfixed on your necklace, her eyes darting between the gemstone and your face, uncertain of what she was truly witnessing.

Morpheus looked at Calliope with a heavy heart, acknowledging her statement that in the past, he would have left her to suffer without turning a hair.

What intensified his feelings of guilt was the undeniable truth in her words. He had often let himself be blinded by resentment and pride, causing him to act thoughtlessly on numerous occasions.

Without looking up, Calliope asked, “Do you still hate me for leaving you? For blaming you for what happened-”

“No.”

His response was quick, coming so naturally that he didn't even need to ponder over it.

“I’ve learnt much in recent times and…”

Calliope appeared expectant, even surprised by the manner in which he spoke.

In the end, he struggled to find the right words to convey what he truly meant. “No matter. I do not hate you.”

At least, he answered with complete honesty. All the animosity he once held for her, the wounds she had caused him, had completely vanished.

In a fleeting moment, Calliope's lips curved into a smile, suggesting her satisfaction with the response she had received.

“I think you should release the mortal now. He has set me free, and without forgiveness wounds will never heal.”

“You would forgive him for what he has done?” He asked, his contempt for the human named Richard Madoc still smoldering inside him.

“I would not forgive what he has done, but I must forgive the man. Not for him, for me.”

They locked eyes in a silent exchange, and through her gaze, she implored him. “Will you free him?”

“If that is what you wish, it shall be done,” he said, resigned to her request.

Calliope silently acknowledged her desires to him with a nod. Consequently, he acquiesced, leaving the writer to face the excruciating realization that there were no more stories to be told without his muse.

As they made their way towards the front door, Calliope posed an unexpected question, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “May I… visit you in the Dream Realm sometime, so that we may finally talk about our son?”

Morpheus parted his lips, but he discovered himself incapable of uttering a response.

She continued. “And… grieve him properly?”

A part of him longed to say yes, but as he reflected on the fate that had befallen Orpheus, he was faced with his own lack of fortitude and emotional strength to confront it.

“One day perhaps, but…”

Calliope's expression hardened as she replied, "I understand.”

Unable to meet her gaze any longer, he quickly turned his head away. Holding the door open for her, he positioned himself beside it, his posture tense, as a deluge of painful memories from the past crashed over him like a chilling shower.

Anticipating her departure without another word, he was taken aback when she stopped, standing just inches away from his face. “Thank you Oneiros. I will not forget this.”

Morpheus felt his heart shatter in his chest, and he steadfastly kept his eyes ahead.

“Fare you well,” she whispered, her forehead gently brushing against the side of his face. “Fortune be with you.”

Finally, he summoned the courage to look at her once more. "Goodbye, Calliope."

With those words, he aimed to bring closure to their unresolved situation, in a way that had eluded them when she had walked away from his side. There was no lingering anger or unfinished business, only the faint traces of a love that had once thrived but had now reached its conclusion, leaving an indelible imprint on both their hearts.

Calliope offered one last smile, radiating acceptance and tranquility. With grace, she stepped out into the world, embracing the freedom she had finally earned. He watched her depart, her white dress trailing behind her, gently brushing against the ground.

Morpheus found himself gripped by a mix of sorrow and relief, their tendrils entwining. And in that very moment, he detected a potent presence—an intense energy emanating from another part of the Waking World. It felt familiar, a connection to his very being and essence. Soon, with a sudden flash of recognition, he realized that it emanated from you.

“Y/N…”

Something felt amiss, an undercurrent of danger that left him on high alert.

In a heartbeat, a swirling wave of sand erupted from the ground, whisking him away to where he could find you.

The local firefighters arrived promptly, containing the flames and preventing them from spreading to other parts of the building. They skillfully extinguished the fire, limiting the damage to the studio. and managing to salvage two out of the four computers, including the one you used for your work.

Although this was a positive outcome, the devastating reality remained that the most important room suffered severe damage, resulting in the loss of a portion of the completed apparel and part of the expensive equipment.

Ella was in such a state of shock that she found it difficult to respond adequately to the inquiries. Consequently, you took charge and spoke on her behalf. The authorities were actively investigating the incident to ascertain the cause of the fire, whether it was an unintentional electrical malfunction or something else entirely.

You were immediately struck by the recollection of a particular sound you had heard upon leaving the studio, something that eluded your identification. It made you wonder if there was a possibility for you to have averted the whole thing, rather than simply walking away without any attentive investigation.

Ella's tight grip on your hand immediately dissuaded any feelings of guilt, causing your knuckles to ache. It was clear that she had something of great importance to discuss with you, but with so many people around, it seemed difficult for her to find the appropriate moment to speak.

To you, deciphering her thoughts wasn't a difficult task, and now that the adrenaline had faded and you were both out of harm's way, you genuinely didn't know how to approach the subject.

After half an hour, Oliver arrived, forcefully navigated through the growing crowd on the street. His complexion turned ashen as he finally laid eyes on his wife. Overwhelmed by a flood of emotions, he instantly enveloped her in a tight embrace, teetering on the brink of tears as he observed her disheveled state.

In truth, both of you appeared slightly worn out, with smudges of soot on your cheeks and hair. Oliver meticulously examined Ella, anxiously relieved when he found no signs of injury on her.

In the end, Ella revealed to her husband that she owed her safe escape entirely to you. She disclosed that you had selflessly protected her from the encroaching flames, ensuring that they never posed a serious threat. You attempted to deny it, but she adamantly refused to perceive it in any other way.

You found yourself in Oliver's firm grasp, his hold so powerful that it felt as though your lungs might burst from your chest. While he had already demonstrated himself to be distinct and notably more relaxed than any previous boss you had encountered, the last thing you expected was for him to exhibit such a tender gesture of affection towards you. He expressed his gratitude repeatedly, to the extent that you were uncertain how to respond, stating that he would go to any extent to repay you.

You wanted none of that. After all, the sole reason Ella had placed herself in jeopardy was your obstinacy, disregarding her warnings. Without the necklace given to you by Morpheus, would you have acted on the same impulse?

Perhaps not, but you couldn't dismiss the possibility entirely.

Exhaustion seeped into your body, and as Oliver held Ella close, affectionately cradling her against his shoulder, she lifted her head and seemed to notice something in the distance. “Y/N, isn’t that your boyfriend?”

It felt as though a switch had been flipped, infusing you with renewed energy. Turning to look in the direction she pointed, you allowed your eyes to roam until they landed on Morpheus, who was standing just a few feet away.

He observed you with concern, but at the same time, he hesitated to approach you because you were not alone. For how long had he been there, looking at you from afar?

Your feet seemed to move of their own accord, starting off slowly before you found yourself running towards him with an urgent pace.

Morpheus withdrew his hands from the pockets of his coat, opening his arms to embrace you as you collided against him.

You had expected him to take much longer to reappear, but you couldn't be happier about it. "You're here.”

"I am.”

You grasped a handful of his coat between your fingers, keeping your arms firmly around his neck. "When did you arrive?"

"A few moments ago," he replied. "I did not want to disturb you.”

"Disturb me? I would do anything to be in your embrace," you confessed.

“You are now.”

“Indeed. Please, just keep holding me. I need it.”

You didn't want to release him, burying your face in the hollow of his neck and savoring his intoxicating, exotic scent.

On the other hand, Morpheus could distinctly smell ashes and burnt remnants on you. In contrast to your request, he withdrew slightly to examine you closely, delicately caressing your face with his hands. The coolness of his palms brought a soothing and grounding sensation, filled with love and adoration.

“My love, are you hurt?"

"Not at all," you responded assuredly. "I don't know what happened. One of the rooms in our office suddenly erupted in flames. I... I was there, right in the midst of the fire. But nothing happened to me.”

As you explained the situation, you brought your hand to the pendant and gently grazed your fingers against it. Morpheus glanced at your nails as they brushed against the stone, and you could see the fear of what might have occurred distorting his features.

"You saved me, Morpheus," you declared with gratitude. “And my friend, too.”

As you turned to look at Ella, you noticed her pressing herself against Oliver, her legs weakening as the built-up tension started to ebb away.

But what you caught sight of in that split second, among the group of people on the sidewalk, made your blood run cold through your veins. Right there, far enough to be mistaken for one of the bystanders, stood Maya. She seemed nervous and hesitant, taking a few tentative steps back before vanishing from your sight.

You might have been tired and still shaken from what you had gone through, but you were absolutely certain that you saw was not a figment of your imagination. What was she doing there? Didn't she leave with the rest of the team long before the fire broke out?

Suddenly, realization hit you like a swollen river, so hard that it took your breath away. When you turned to look at your boyfriend, your distressed expression caught his attention. He frowned, waiting for you to reveal what was running through your mind.

"Morpheus," your voice was hushed, wary, and filled with fractures. "I don't believe it was an accident.”

The seed of doubt was now implanted, inciting a tempest inside him. From the anger manifesting on his face and his eyes growing darker, you knew that he had no intention of treating the matter lightly, not if it meant that someone had done such a thing to you, whether it was intended to harm you directly or not.

“I need to prove it," you asserted.

He didn't need to say a single word, for the way he looked at you expressed his question with utmost clarity. You understood exactly what he was asking.

Maya Davies was about to incur the wrath of the king of nightmares, and you were fully supportive of it. With a single nod, you gave him your approval.

"I will assist you, my love. But not tonight. Please, let me give you a good rest.”

You smiled, taking his right hand between yours and softly pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

"What would I ever do without you?”

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 13 ->

[mantou-rin]

The Warmest Touch

Prompt: Holding hands with Mitsuki

Characters: Mitsuki Izumi, reader

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 1,318

A/N: Happy birthday Mikki! (Please excuse any errors my writing might have)

You stood outside your office building, aimlessly swiping on your phone as you waited for your boyfriend to come pick you up. There was a new eatery that opened in one of the nearby malls, and the two of you were eager to try it after seeing all the good reviews. 

The cool breeze blew gently towards you, accompanied with the sound of rustling leaves from the nearby trees which reflected a beautiful golden hue against the setting sun, a reminder that autumn was just around the corner. From afar you could hear the faint chirping of the birds as well as the sound of busy footsteps of others who walked past you, but all these sounds just served as white noise to you as your head was filled with nothing but thoughts about meeting your boyfriend soon. 

Maybe it was because of age, but you often found yourself lost in your own thoughts. It was mainly your mind replaying previous dates you had with Mitsuki, the way he always greeted you with the brightest smile on his face, the way his eyes lit up when he saw you from across the street and the way it seemed that his energy level doubled when he was with you. You felt giddy with happiness when you recalled the first time he slipped his hand into yours and held you close to him as the two of you navigated a crowded night market. You couldn’t help but break out into a smile at that thought. 

Your daydreaming was interrupted with the sound of your name being called by a familiar voice. Your head snapped up and turned to look towards the direction of the noise, and you immediately broke out into the widest grin.

There he was. 

At the sight of you, Mitsuki’s footsteps quickened, almost breaking out into a run as he approached you. Never once did his vibrant expression falter, he truly was the very embodiment of sunshine, and very soon you found yourself being held in his embrace, and a wave of happiness enveloped you. 

“Sorry, you probably waited for a while.” You heard him say, to which you responded by shaking your head and assuring him that you didn’t have to wait long at all. 

Naturally, Mitsuki’s hand quickly found yours and held it firmly. Once again, you were overcome with the same ecstatic feeling everytime the two of you were in contact with each other. Mitsuki always held you like you were the most precious jewel in the world - delicate but at the same time the most beautiful thing he laid his eyes on. 

Walks with Mitsuki were hardly ever quiet, he always had a lot to tell you, and likewise, you had a lot to tell him too. A conversation between you two could stem from anywhere and everywhere, and the two of you could go on for hours and hours. There was no such thing as a dull moment when you were with him. 

Very soon, the two of you reached the eating place and as expected, there was a snaking queue formed outside of the place. But Mitsuki had already called ahead to reserve a spot for the both of you, and with his hand still firmly holding yours, he gently led you inside the place, and you could feel the attention from the people in the queue being diverted to you as they whispered among themselves. 

Dating an idol was not easy, it never was. This was something that the two of you had established before even going into the relationship. There would be periods of long separation, you had to keep your profile low and dates in public spaces were difficult. Sometimes you would have fans approach you asking for your help in passing a gift to Mitsuki and sometimes you would have fans throwing nasty looks in your direction when you so much as accidentally breathe near them. 

But you wouldn’t exchange this relationship for anything else in the world. Every moment spent with Mitsuki was precious and something you hold dear to your heart. He brought out the best in you, and changed your life in the best way possible. 

The employee led the both of you to a small private room, and Mitsuki as usual, being the gentleman he is, gently ushered you to an empty seat, making sure you were all comfortable before heading to sit across from you. He did this all the time when you went out to eat even after you told him he didn't have to go through all the trouble, to which he replied saying that he wanted to treat you like a princess. 

Well, you weren't going to lie but yes, you did indeed feel like a princess with the way he treated you. 

Given the wide array of food available at the restaurant, the both of you took a while before deciding on your dinner, eventually settling on a good amount of food that was sure to fill the both of you up. And as you continued to engage in your usual chatter, the food quickly arrived at the table. 

Since the both of you loved food so much, it was only natural that you wasted no time in tucking into the delicious meal in front of you, occasionally dropping remarks about how good the food was and how you wanted to come back again to try the other dishes. 

Very quickly the two of you cleared the food on the table, but stayed behind a while longer to catch up. It was a rare moment of peace the two of you could get, and you spent it exchanging what went about your day or sometimes reminiscing about the previous dates you had. Your surroundings always seemed to slow down, yet time seemed to go by so fast during times like these. 

As the night grew deeper, the weather got colder as well. You had Mitsuki’s jacket draped over your shoulder, and once again his hand naturally found its way to yours. The usually busy park was now quiet, with many people already heading home to unwind for the day. From beside you, you could hear your boyfriend go on about the recent schedules he had with the other members. 

He was always so detailed with the stories he told you, and there was something so soothing about his voice that always made you feel at ease. Every once in a while, you could feel him adjusting his grip on your hand, his thumb slowly rubbing across your knuckles. You were glad it was already dark out, or he would have seen the blush that tinted your cheeks ever so slightly. 

Mitsuki pulled you into one more hug before the two of you had to part ways. You felt your heart drop slightly - it was going to be a while before you could see him again. But at the same time you could feel every ounce of his love for you everytime you were in his embrace, and that made it all better. 

He insisted you keep his jacket, he definitely didn’t need you feeling cold on your way home, but also because he knew how much you liked to wear his clothes so that you didn’t feel lonely. You tried not to let your sadness show on your face when you pulled away from the hug, but nothing ever escaped Mitsuki’s sharp eyes. 

Placing his hand on your head, Mitsuki broke out into a soft smile, “We’ll meet again soon my dear, I promise.”

Your hand reached out to hold his again, you just wanted to feel his touch once more. 

“Let’s meet soon Mitsuki, I love you.”

Mitsuki nodded in agreement and the two of you said your final goodbyes before leaving for your separate ways.

Throughout your journey home, the lingering touch from Mitsuki’s hand remained. 

[a-man-for-hire-and-his-archives]

Crew for Stan series Scrublands: Silver reflect on ideal coastal destination for TV production

written by Warren Hately | Augusta Margaret River Times

Producer Martha Coleman with actors Luke Arnold and Bella Heathcote alongside director Ben Young. Credit: David Dare Parker/Photograph by David Dare Parker

The cast and crew of Stan crime drama Scrublands have reported mixed feelings about their pending wrap on their season two shoot in Augusta.

Production has taken over the seaside town and brought a welcome boost to the economy at the outset of winter, before filming concludes on July 12.

Rhetoric aside, co-producer Martha Coleman from Third Act Stories and the Australian show’s leading stars expressed a deep fondness for the coastal hamlet.

Coleman told the Times the visiting film crew quickly felt at home in Augusta after residents embraced the production and opened their doors and businesses to the cast, which included lead actors Bella Heathcote and Luke Arnold.

But Coleman said many genuinely felt there was something “incredibly special” about Augusta and its surrounds and she urged local authorities to protect its existing character against future over-development.

“It’s like a coastal town from my childhood in that it hasn’t been ruined,” Coleman said.

“It’s not become something it’s not.

“It’s like the gift that keeps giving. We’ve got all of our locations there.”

Operating under the code name Silver, the Stan series sees Arnold’s journalist character return to his WA home town with his girlfriend, played by Heathcote.

As is typical of crime dramas, things soon turn pear-shaped.

Arnold said he appreciated the warm welcome from the Augusta community.

“It didn’t take long for people to start talking about wanting to move here,” he said.

“We couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful location both on-screen and off.

“Everybody is filling their weekends with incredible food, wine, and adventure.”

Coleman and Heathcote also talked up the region’s scenic beauty.

“Augusta is so stunningly beautiful and the people here have been nothing but warm and welcoming,” Heathcote said.

“The best thing about shooting in pre-existing locations is that it feels like I’ve been taken on this weeks-long tour of the town: from the lighthouse to Ellis Street Jetty and everything around and between.

“I’ll be sad to say goodbye.”

Coleman said scoping for the series was undertaken during a magical summer, but when wintry conditions set in on day one of shooting at the Ellis Street Jetty, the directors chose to lean into the powerful natural feel of the region.

That included long days shooting at Flinders and Hamelin Bay, which had transformed since summer from a pristine white-sand beach to a wild and seaweed-wracked locale.

“We shifted our focus on the location not being pristine, but powerful,” the co-producer said.

“We wanted a coastal town that hasn’t yet been gone over by the developers.”

Coleman herself had moved her company back to Perth during the pandemic and the partnership with east coast company Easy Tiger — rumoured to be shooting some additional scenes in Augusta for their separate production The Twelve — mean idyllic places like the town and other parts of the Margaret River region are likely to appear in future shows.

Coleman said despite the stiff drive from Perth, the region was relatively well set-up to support a burgeoning film industry and local and State authorities had “bent over backwards” to smooth out any problems.

The biggest challenge faced was with telecommunications.

The region’s woeful broadband and phone system have raised the ire of South West creatives for years, and while the Stan production had its own unit van to help when in dead zones like Hamelin Bay, greater investment was needed on that front if authorities wanted to get serious about supporting local creative industries, she said.

Source: The West Australia

[bardic-tales]

Header created by @oasiswinds

Adaki and Cynthia has been in character development since the launch of SWTOR. These are just some head canons for them. While I typically write about their rise to power, etc, I wanted to share some softer head canons for them.

General

Adaki and Cynthia share a profound connection that often goes beyond words. They understand each other on a level that few can comprehend, and this is thanks to the Force bond they share. This bond allows them to feel each other's emotions and thoughts. Adaki often says that he can feel her the moment she steps foot in Dromund Kaas' space station.

Despite their complex and sometimes conflicting personalities, they deeply respect each other. He admires her intelligence, resourcefulness, and unwavering loyalty to him. She loves his cunning, wisdom, and power he wields as a Sith Lord and Council member.

As it is her, Adaki often provides a safe space for vulnerability to help each other find strength in moments of weaknesses. This is seen as Cynthia's assault during a mission to Corellia.

They share a common vision for the future and work together to achieve their goals. They strive to create a legacy that transcends their individual ambitions, seeking to reshape the Empire according to their ideals.

Adaki's strategic thinking and her tactical expertise form a formidable combination. They complement each other's skills. They have a unique synergy to their partnership, making them an unstoppable force when working together.

Trust is the foundation on which their relationship was built. They confide in each other, knowing that their secrets and vulnerabilities are safe in each other's hands.

Adaki is fiercely protective of Cytnhia, willing to go to great lengths to ensure her safety and well-being. This is seen when he reshapes Imperial Intelligence as Darth Jadus to find her when she was forcefully extracted from his household.

Their theme song is Phantom of the Opera.

As opposed to canon events, Lana Beniko and Cynthia worked together to free Adaki from the grip of Arcann. She even buried the hatchet with her twin sister. Together, they sought Gor'en Arturis, Adaki' estranged son, to help get to Zakuul and rescue Adaki.

The clones that Adaki uses on Dromund Kaas as Jadus are clones of Cynthia. He created them when she was separated from him the first time.

Their shipping name is Arescost.

Cute:

Adaki and Cynthia have endearing nicknames for each other that they only use in private. He likes to call her 'Cyn' as she is his favorite sin. Cynthia calls him darling.

Despite their serious roles, they will often engage in playful banter and teasing when they are alone together. They enjoy light-hearted exchanges that showcase their wit and sense of humor.

Adaki loves to surprise Cynthia with gifts. As Jadus, he gifted her her ship, and, even, an apartment.

It is a running gag in their relationship. Cynthia just can't cook. Adaki loves preparing food for her and serving it to her. he often makes Iridonian dishes for her to try, and she loves them.

They share a love for dancing. They tend to attend formal events together and steal moments on the dance floor.

They tend to have surprised kisses. Whether it's a quick peck on the cheek or a lingering kiss, these displays of affection keep the flames of their love alive.

Both of their love languages are physical touch. They often exchange gentle caresses, such as a gentle brush of his fingers through her long hair.

Disturbing (as he is a Sith):

Adaki will often present unsettling gifts that reflect his Sith Nature. He captured a Loth wolf and brought it to the Dark Heart on Voss to corrupt it.

Adaki's love for Cynthia often manifests as an obsession to protect her at all costs. This often leads him to questionable actions: eliminating potential rivals. He heard about how she 'married' a voss who lived in a tea house to enter the Dark Heart. he burnt the tea house to the ground with Cynthia's 'husband' inside.

He is willing to sacrifice anything, including innocent lives, in the name of their live. He justifies his actions as necessary to protect their relationship and ensure their survival.

Adaki sees her as an extension of himself and is willing to destroy anyone or anything that threatens to take her away from him. This includes murdered rogue force users that Imperial Intelligence sent to bring her to Shadow Town on Nar Shaddaa. This was his last act as Darth Jadus.

Intimate

Adaki will often surprise Cynthia with romantic candlelit dinners, prepared with meticulous attention to detail.

Amidst their chaotic lives, Adaki and Cynthia retreat to secluded safehouses. Here, they find solace in each other's arms, away from the prying eyes of the Empire.

Adaki and Cynthia often attend Imperial gatherings together, disguised as a power couple. They play the roles of charismatic and influential individuals while subtly working to gather intelligence or manipulate key figures.

On quiet evenings, Adaki will often take Cynthia to secluded locations where they can lay under the stars. He will often whisper poetic words of love and admiration.

After a long day of Sith intrigues and covert missions, Adaki and Cynthia will often find solace in each other's arms. They stay up late into the night, sharing their deepest thoughts and dreams. Cynthia is the only one who knows his true fears.

He will often indulge her in sensual bathing rituals. He prepares luxurious baths with fragrant oils and petals. He enjoys washing her body.

Adaki offers private training to Cynthia, where he guides her in honing her Sith abilities after he does away with the block placed on her mind, dampening her force abilities. These sessions become moments of intense focus and vulnerability, where he pushes her to her limits and helps her unlock her hidden potential.

As part of their training, they often engage in trust exercises. This includes blindfolded combat training or situations where she places her life in his hands.

In moments of vulnerability, Cynthia allows Adaki to interrogate her, testing her loyalty and resolve. However, these interrogations take on an intimate nature, with Adaki delving into Cynthia's deepest secrets, fears, and desires. The trust she places in him during these sessions strengthens their connection.

Sometimes, Adaki and Cynthia find comfort in the silence of each other's presence. They don't need words to express their love. Their mere existence together is enough. They will often sit together, enjoying the simple pleasures of being in each other's arms.

Once a mission is successfully completed, Adaki and Cynthia celebrate in private, relishing their victories. These celebrations often lead to passionate moments of intimacy, where the adrenaline of their triumphs spills over into their connection as they revel in their shared achievements.

NSFW

Adaki and Cynthia revel in the passionate intensity they share during their intimate moments.

Adaki and Cynthia take pleasure in discovering each other's erogenous zones and eliciting intense sensations. They enjoy the gentle caresses and kisses on sensitive areas such as the neck, ears, inner thighs, and abdomen, heightening the anticipation and arousal.

Adaki and Cynthia relish in the sensations of their bodies intertwining and the pleasure derived from their tactile connection. They delight in exploring each other's curves, muscles, and contours, reveling in the power of touch as it ignites their desires.

He loves it when she strips for him. She will often throw clothes at him, and he breaths in the clothing, inhaling her scent.

Passionate and intense kisses are a favorite of Adaki and Cynthia. They savor the taste and feel of each other's lips, often incorporating playful biting and nibbling to heighten their arousal and add an element of primal desire.

Adaki and Cynthia enjoy whispering sweet nothings and provocative phrases to each other. The sound of their voices, laden with desire and longing, adds an extra layer of intimacy and arousal to their encounters.

Maintaining intense eye contact is a powerful aspect of Adaki and Cynthia's lovemaking. They lock gazes, seeking a deep connection and a sense of intimacy as they engage in their passionate encounters, heightening the emotional and physical connection between them.

Adaki and Cynthia appreciate the beauty and allure of each other's bodies. They take pleasure in admiring and worshiping one another, appreciating every inch of exposed skin, and reveling in the physical attraction they share.

The climax of their lovemaking is a highly anticipated and deeply satisfying moment for both Adaki and Cynthia. They relish in the intense pleasure that courses through their bodies, often experiencing simultaneous climaxes.

Adaki and Cynthia share a mutual thrill in the exhibitionist nature of their intimacy. They find excitement in the possibility of being observed or discovered while engaging in their passionate encounters. They love to make love in semi-public places like secluded balconies or dimly lit corridors and don't care if someone watches. This is shown after a passionate sparring when they make love not caring about who was around them or in his seat in the Dark Council chamber on Korriban before the events of KOTFE.

Tagging: @serenofroses and @starryeyes2000 since I know how you like SWTOR or are a fan of Arescost.

[moreapples]

As for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins, in which you used to live when you followed the ways of this world and of the ruler of the kingdom of the air, the spirit who is now at work in those who are disobedient. All of us also lived among them at one time, gratifying the cravings of our flesh and following its desires and thoughts. Like the rest, we were by nature deserving of wrath. But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved. And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus. For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do. – Ephesians 2:1-10

~~~~~

"Alive with Christ, Dead Without"

By Jennifer Kane

I was dead in sin—not just ill. Dead.

Following the world, fading into obscurity,

trying to hide, only to sink deeper,

lost in the dark.

I needed mercy—more than wealth, more than success,

just mercy.

But God, rich in mercy, reached down to me.

His mercy vast, unmeasured, reached

to the pit, to the shadowed depths,

to my mewling, desperate self.

Out of love, He saved me.

Made me alive in Christ,

brought me to life with Jesus.

Saved by grace, an unearned gift—

faith itself, a gift, not my own.

Alien faith, a gift from Him, not from me.

No pride to boast in this.

His work alone, crafted by His hand,

He raised me up, seated me with Christ.

Now, this life reflects the richness,

the true richness of God’s grace to the world.

God, the Master Craftsman, made me with purpose,

uniquely shaped for His will.

Awaken me, deepen our bond,

that I may praise Him,

for His mercy, His grace,

for making me alive in Christ.

~~~~~

In Ephesians 2:1-10, Paul reveals a stunning transformation that takes place when we are made alive in Christ. Before knowing Him, we were spiritually dead, living in darkness, unable to free ourselves from sin’s hold. This death is not just a moral flaw—it is a state of complete separation from God, a life shaped by cravings and self-focus, far from His holiness.

Imagine a soul confined to a suffocating darkness, where sin feels like the only reality. Yet, because of God’s incredible love, He does not leave us there. “But God,” rich in mercy, reached down and made us alive together with Christ. By His grace—this undeserved kindness—we are given new life. We did not, and could not, earn this; it is His gift to us, bringing us out of spiritual death and into vibrant, purposeful life.

Just as God raised Jesus from the dead, He raises us, seating us with Christ in heavenly realms. This new position is one of complete acceptance and rest in His presence. No longer under condemnation, we now live securely as beloved children, called to reflect His grace and mercy in all we do.

This profound transformation also carries a purpose. Paul tells us that we are “God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works.” We are not merely saved from death; we are saved for a life that glorifies Him. Each of us is a unique expression of His creativity, designed with intentionality to walk in the good works He has set before us. As His workmanship, we carry the light of His grace into the world, showing others the freedom and love we have received.

As we walk this path, we remember that it is grace—not our own strength—that sustains us. The same grace that saved us empowers us daily, reminding us that our worth and purpose are secure in Him. In Christ, we have moved from death to life, from darkness to light, and now live with eternal hope, shaped and purposed by His hand.

Take time today to reflect on God’s transforming work in your life. Where has He brought new life, freedom, or purpose since you began following Him? Write down these reflections as a reminder of His ongoing grace and the purpose He has prepared for you in Christ.

~~~~~

Heavenly Father, thank You for the incredible gift of new life in Christ. Your mercy is overwhelming, reaching me even when I was lost in sin. Remind me each day that I am Your workmanship, crafted with purpose to share Your love. Help me to live by Your strength, fulfilling the good works You have prepared for me. Let my life bring You glory, as I walk in the light of Your grace. Amen.

[originemesis]

@deathinfeathers xxx

"I DON'T KNOW, Adam! Okay? I don't know what I was thinking—I don't know what I was believing or what I was doing or what I am doing! You were gone! You were gone and I needed somebody to pay for it!!" What else was she supposed to do? Forgive? Forget? Move on? To what? What is there to move on to without him? He's everything. He's always been everything. The foundation on which her existance, her life, her identity is built. There was nothing before him and there would be nothing after him. If this past year and the truths which have been unearthed over it's course has cemented anything as immutable fact, it is that. There is no Lute without Adam. Literally. figuratively. Indisputably. In a twisted, roundabout sort of way, she is to him what he is to Yahweh. A warped reflection—down to the earthen characteristics of her pseudo-corporeal form. Does he feel godly when he looks at her? She has to wonder, if he even understands how fundamentally inconceivable it is for her to be without him? There is no place or purpose for her in this world that isn't by his side. Heaven? The council? The almighty? Fuck them. Fuck them all. All that she is is for him, from him, of him—her creation may have been ill-conceived and based In little more than vanity, but wasn't his as well? What crimes has he committed which the creator is not equally guilty of? The more she has learned about the forces which make the wheels of this universe turn the more she has come to realize that the supposed greater purpose they were all brought into this world to serve does not exist. It's all vanity. It's all bullshit. Talons rake through snowy strands, abusing the underlying flesh in an endeavor to distract from the tingling sensation crawling up her sinuses and pooling in the corners of her eyes. He sidles in and she can feel his warmth seeping into the space separating her arm from his. The sensation draws her marigolds a few degrees in his direction, just far enough to catch sight of his bleary silhouette out of her peripherals. She listens. Listens well, evidenced by the attentive swivel of a pointed ear. Just to keep my head above the surface, he says. Sounds familiar. Except she hadn't been doing a very convincing job of it. And it shows, too, in the dullness of her skin, poorly kempt feathers, eyes which look through but never at. There's no real fire in her anymore—utterly beaten down in every conceivable way. A slow blink as knuckles meet with cheek, dislodging a little, watery pearl which had been clinging to her lashes for dear life. "It's just you...Adam. It's always been you. What else could i possibly want for?" The words come hushed and brittle through twitching lips. "I have never thought of you as unremarkable...or insufficient...Not back then. Not now. Not ever."

Raising her head to properly face him at long last, she sucks a needless breath through clenched teeth into nonexistent lungs, a hand rising to grasp his reaching fingers loosely within an ashen palm. It still comes naturally. "The shit that they spew, up there...it's just noise. I never heard a word...because I know you...you are everything those poor, blind saps wish they could be if they had one, singular ounce of sense stowed away somewhere inside their essence of being. You were made with this incredible gift of choice, of free will. Free...and yet, all they've ever done is put you in chains....what a miserable fate, to subject something so extraordinary to." The free hand finds it's perch upon a bronze cheek, touching the plush pad of a thumb to the soft arch beneath the umbra cradling the sliver of gold that remains in his eyes. "...you are perfect."

Somebody had to pay for it-

Well wasn't she the cutest thing to have ever worshipped him? Maybe the only thing, despite how every soul on earth traced the rotten apple core of their being- the very atoms that created a golem husk of a holding cell for mortality- back to him. All that he'd done on earth would still be, and the signs of his contributions still remained etched into his ethereal form. Maybe not in the directly obvious way that initials were carved into tree bark like the scar of A+E he'd used as a talon sharpening target shortly before his perfect disaster of a storm in Eden toppled the tree that bore it.

No, it was more like the gradual pulling of sand grains by a ceaseless tide- never really diminishing the shoreline enough to ever erase it. Particle by particle, time stripped the one iota of what separated men from the monsters born of Lilith and transferred them to new depths- transformed them into some human passing hybrid of the two because even if not all of Earth's apples were bad, one rotten one would spoil the bunch in every other batch. Endless were those poisoned seeds swallowed, and the evidence of each piece of him passed showed in the ever sleepless bags under his gaze muddled with the ever present need for several caffeinated drinks throughout the day. It culminated in the clear chaos of constant cowlicks cocked in a mixture of bed and helmet hair, in wings tucked in to blanket the filling in of flanks not starved since Eden's exclusively vegan menu, in the grumpy slouch of stiff shoulders, and tacked onto the end of Lucifer's sentiment as a resounding punctuation: so this is what you've been up to? Deteriorating. The image of God.

And yet none of those filthy sinners, nor the angels tasked with the expectation of service to the divine worshipped him. 'The Man' didn't look the part anymore. Was that why He started all this? To remember what absolute power actually resembled before pieces of it were either divided, or corrupted and rotted away? A castle in the sand, gradually drying out and crumbling to an indication of what it had once been. Perhaps that was the feeling of a potter gazing down on the toil of their work- the very earth spun, molded and fired to hopefully withstand the cracks and chips that would eventually find it- ruin it. And yet, she with her own shiny newness to reflect his own deteriorated beginnings didn't seem to notice when her crockery came with chips. That or she saw them as well used for a reason. That or she saw it as a challenge to add her own marks to show she'd loved it more for its inconsistencies. Worship like that...was everlasting. An Ever After. How could he have even considered she'd turn him away now ? Even if the crack from a curb stomp into hell would definitely drop molten soup into her lap if she chose to sup from him now.

Vanity of the creator had kept the burdening weight of his soul pinned to the clouds with clothespins until there simply wasn't enough of Him to recognize in man, and though there many more- endless, really, each of them bore such a furthering resemblance from the source material that there were no qualms to hold when they all landed in hell, and he with them now... unrecognizable and with the same vanity still stuck like a badge on what remained because he would never fully shake that human feeling of fleeting satisfaction in seeing himself in his sons or in her eyes when they'd filled with tears over her favored bowl shattered on the ground in pieces she'd try to glue together if he wasn't so quick to sweep up and bin himself.

As she speaks, he fidgets. Talons still toying with the wet globule guarded by her lashes like the boughs of a gold pear, he rubs its resplendence into the memory of warped fingerprints once it pops as if the burn of holy tears could brand him a new set made uniquely of her.

Kneading the burn in, he disguises a soft hiss as a scoff, the ridges of his smile always a twitch away from formulating the most outlandish observation he could manage from context clues read backwards. "Really-? So the sex was bangin' and definitely not mid?" With a snort and a shift that caused the counter stool to creak under the effort, he blinks as she sits up to catch the burnished remnants of his eyes with hers. A half formed wince chars the corner of his eye when the mold of her hand mashes the golden smears in like an ointment left to burn but mend all the same. Hearing the truth...at least theirs take the form of a butterfly wing's beat on her breath certainly feels conductive to closing the wounds left to fester like the raised flesh along his back where one wing was no more than severed bone gnawed down, but it still burned the same.

"Tch. Then you know I was free to keep'em on." He's soft, the state of her hand on his cheek translating through the hushed grit of a soul still on the mend from all the deep bruising of angelic steel's punishing punctures that if it were not for the involuntary opening of a chest portal some fifteen of fifty plus, would have ended his solo career. "I wouldn't just break a chain that you're a link in..." Said chest portal had begun to yawn at his clavicle, though instead of the golden light beyond- a swirl of darkness pervaded. Three shards of a halo now felled floated inside, and from the combined light of them it almost seemed like the inner workings of the different dimension shimmered. "Course, it does make a bitchin' ring, huh?"

With a pause, he permeates in the praise, the claw of his thumb rolling circles along the back of her palm, neck arched down to keep her damp gaze with the same ghost of a smile he'd seen her off with against the backdrop of heaven captured briefly in a closing circle.

"...perfect-ly capable of lying to you. Was going to lie to you even at the end there." The hint of low-hanging humor seems to stall, and the weight of his tail in her lap straps her in place like a seatbelt for a roller coaster ride she didn't ask for- but at least came with feathers to tickle her triceps. "Back before you took off, I was going to tell you that you're ugly when you cry." It wasn't a secret he didn't like waterworks, especially on her- a lieutenant that needed to look like she inflicted tears and never shed them. Messed up her pretty face, he'd claim. "But that's the farthest thing from the truth. You weren't made for me, and I wasn't made for anyone. Yet everything you do...everything you are-" Another scoff and the itch to shake his head ends with pressing his face into her open palm, nosing in place like a bull impatient for a pat.

"Look, being perfect by heaven's standards? It's overrated- it's cringe. But what I see when I look at you doing...literally anything? It's enough."

-and isn't that what he always wanted to be?

"You've always been." A quick tilt of his head earns her the nubs on his forehead combing through the crown of her silver with a Shepard's care. "Now...are you going to be enough of a good little demon ass destroyer and bring it in, or do I gotta simmer in the cringe-stew some more?"

[magicbutsevenofit]

Chapter 1: Escape

We open on a little boy being led to a chapel (RUN!) by his father to meet an important person. This is a dream and unusually (apparently), the guy notes that he's never met that person or been to that place before and yet, he's filled with a sense of nostalgia.

Next, we're at the Barsburg Empire, 1st District, where the 315th class of the Barsburg Empire's Military Academy are having their graduation exam ceremony or whatever. A guy named Shuuri is speaking on stage and every boy wants to fuck him. Shuuri then says that out of the 500 students taking the exam, only 20 will actually graduation (would be a shitty way to secure funds over here but whatever.).

After the ceremony, Shuuri points out Chairman Miroku's favorite student, with his resting bitch face and ardent refusal to talk to his fellow students: Teito Klein.

Everybody pours shit on him, asking how a shortie like him can even be in the special course before going that they should be nicer or he'll snitch on them to the chairman. They say he used to be a slave...how jove! Teito can hear them but he struggles to keep his cool. Some guy puts his hand on his shoulder and gives him a legitimate warm greeting and Teito strikes out at him, telling him to fuck off. Before we decide this event, clearly influenced by his emotional state in this hostile environment, should color our perception of him to the grave and beyond, that guy is his friend Mikage and they're always like this. After calming down, Mikage asks to eat lunch with him and Teito tries to brush him off, saying if people saw him with him, they'll bully him too. Mikage says he's only sick of Teito trying to scare him off with that.

In class, Teacher Guy explains that the army's executive officers will be showing up tomorrow to view the graduation exam. The students around say Shuuri will obviously be the one picked to be made an officer. Meanwhile, Teacher Guy asks why Teito doesn't come to his practical skill lessons. Teito says he was excused from them. Shuuri doesn't let this pass without comment, saying of course Miroku's dog gets special treatment, his (butt) buddy saying that it's a level up from being a slave. Teito does something with his hand and suddenly, Shuuri is discovered to have brought porn to class...

Mikage and Teito look outside the window and see a creepy floating fortress, pointing if they pass the graduation exam, they'll both be accepted into that Fort Hohburg (Yay...?). Mikage is going to fight for the Empire and protect his family, much to Teito's pride. Then they overheard students talking about how people tend to die in the graduation exam...so a suddenly nervous Mikage agrees to Teito's offer of practicing so that they're pumped for the exam tomorrow.

So for this series' gimmick: There's this magic system called Zaiphon which the users use to fight. It's a gift powered by God that is mostly controlled with the hands and enables one to convert a life source into various forms. People who could use this are rare and the few who can have different capabilities which tend to reflect their natures.

Anyway, the next morning, the kids get into groups of ten and enter separate assembly halls. Our idiots Mikage and Teito fought all night so they're tired and on the A team (situations unrelated). For their exam, they have to beat a prisoner. This guy:

Beat him and do not abandon your comrades. Those are the rules. One guy goes up and says, "Ya'll some pussies! That's obviously a projection used for training!" The gentleman pictured above says that he's happy to have a live bunch this year and he's going to enjoy this...

Yeah, he's real. The exam attendant cheerfully tells the students to use all the skills they've learnt this year or they will die~! Let the exam begin! The prisoner goes on the offense, saying that for every student he fucks up, his sentence gets reduced. Meanwhile, Chief-Of-Staff Ayanami shows up to watch. He asks if the students have any backbone in them this year. Well...

Those bitches are getting slaughtered.

The attendant happily says that most students drop out here. After all, battle skill learnt in the classroom means nothing if it's inapplicable to real combat. Teito ad Mikage are doing well against the prisoner (despite Teito flashing back to some dude with a mustache telling him his greatest weakness is compassion) and Teito gets the guy at hand point, telling him to stand down. Ayanami steps in, saying the guy has to die for Teito to pass the exam. Teito argues that he's not a real enemy so there's no reason before Ayanami suddenly cuts the dude's head off with a flick of his hand, calling Teito slow.

So...exam over.

19 students were accepted, including Teito and Mikage. While his injuries are being treated, Mikage says he didn't think Teito would actually be the type to save Shuuri during the exam. Teito says he only did it instinctively and Mikage says he's proud of him.

Then Teito reminds Mikage that he used a slave. And not just any slave: a slave used for battle. He was sold to the army when he was young and he never knew the love of a family. Basically, Mikage is the only real "love" that he has. Mikage cries and so does everybody else reading.

So Mikage makes a promise: he will never abandon Teito on the battlefield and vice-versa. They fist-bump to seal it.

Teito has the dream from the beginning of the chapter where the weird guy apologizes for not being by his side but says someday, he will understand his true mission. Then everything gets bloody.

The next day, Teito is running to turn in a report to Shigure (who I assume is the Teacher Guy). He then overhears Ayanami talking about him with others, saying he has magnificent talent and if he keeps it up, he'll be made a cadet of the Eye of Mikhail. But in other news, a stone had disappeared during the battle with the enemy coutnry, Raggs. They say Raphael, whatever that is, is reacting so it still must be around. But they've been performing autopsies on all of Ragg's royalties and the stone wasn't there (Is it in the kidneys or...?). Then Ayanami takes out a necklace that apparently belongs to the King of Raggs...and Teito gets a massive headache.

He gets the ol repressed memories back, finally remembering the guy in his dreams as his father...who is dead. Killed by you guessed it, Ayanami. Ayanami himself realizes that someone has been a nosy nellie and Teito responds by trying to jump his ass...only for a dude in glasses casually goomba stomping him into the ground, politely telling him if he stands against Ayanami again, he'll kill him. Ayanami asks why he was trying to square up before recognizing him as the slave that was picked up from Raggs. He orders him to be thrown into prison until he comes to get him. Until then, make him spill everything.

Mikage overhears that. Rescue operation time.

As all of Teito's stuff is taken out of his dorm for "speaking against" Ayanami, Mikage skulks outside the jail waiting for an opportunity to break in. Mikage sneaks in only to notice Teito surrounded by fallen guards. Smiling, Teito tells him that he can't stay at the academy anymore and thanks him for everything...and Mikage responds by dragging him out by the wrist to run out.

Teito shouts that he doesn't want Mikage to get involved but Mikage shouts back if he goes against Ayanami, he'll die. So he needs to run away and hide to survive. Teito begs that if there is a god, please, protect Mikage.

The alert goes out that Teito has escaped his cell and he and Mikage are soon cornered by the guards. Teito responds by taking Mikage as his hostage, whispering in his ear that he can't let Mikage turn himself into a criminal on his account. He'll run away on his own. After the two assure each other that they'll always be best friends, Teito throws Mikage at the guards before stealing some type of motorbike.

Ayanami looks out his window, noting how noisy it is. He sees Teito escaping while glaring up at him so he hits him with the ol' magic hands. Teito gets damaged but he uses his own abilities to shield himself so that he can get away. The guards come in to tell Ayanami that Teito has escaped and Ayanami tells them to let him go since Chairman Miroku is away from his office. He'll get him soon enough...

On the road, a biker tells Teito not to ride on the side of the wall because he'll get hurt. He should know, he's a thrill-seeker. Sure enough, Teito wipes out and falls off, causing a landslide to cushion himself and landing on the thrill-seeker. The chapter ends with the guy noting that Teito has been through a lot...

[noah-moth-cursed-chaos]

One thing you learn quickly in a monster hunting family, is souls look different for different types of creatures.

Human souls were round, hardy things, usually some tail or growth sprouting off that was reminiscent of the type of person it’d once belonged to. Angel souls took the form of their haloes, it must have been a horrible process to fall, her father had a video of it happening to an angel. The wings went all black and then the halo went, like fake leather flaking off an old jacket. It took hours. He didn’t have the compassion she did for their anguish. The compassion she shouldn’t. This is what she was raised for, this type of cruelty. Demons technically were their souls, they were comprised entirely of magic, and their physical form was just a projection of the type of magic that formed them. It made them remarkable spell-casters. Werewolf and vampire souls were the same as humans, after all it was mostly misfortune that separated them. Elves had been extinct for centuries, but it was said their souls looked like plants sprouting up out of nothing. Anything from a dandelion to a towering tree. She wondered how the grim reaper came to collect such a thing, did he have to pluck them or cut them down first?

What she didn’t know however, was what a fae soul looked like.

She imagined it’d look like the strange, likely enchanted, decorations on her father’s corkboard. Still fluttering or skittering insects, mostly butterflies. They were strangely beautiful. But she couldn’t bear to watch them. It looked painful.

Currently she was wedged firmly between two of the cabinets shoved into his closet’s office. Staring at the floor so she didn’t have to see that dreadful board through the slots in the door. She was waiting. Any moment now…

The door opened, her father stepped through, followed by a strange looking man, his eyes were slightly too big, his fingers slightly too long, his skin didn’t reflect the light quite properly. She swore his ears were pointed. Fae. He had to have been fae. But why was her dad meeting with him? Why had he been meeting with similar people on a regular basis for as long as she’d been alive? She’d seen this same man in her house once or twice a month since she was six. One time she’d given him a cookie. The next time he came he brought her a gift, her father told her not to touch it, and not to thank him. The gift sat on the table untouched and unclaimed for months until it mysteriously vanished.

“Warden, I have followed for orders for years.”

“Barely.”

“But I still have, which it should be noted often go against my own morals and nature, but I cannot do this. I will not do it. I refuse to put another fae in my predicament for you.”

“Need I remind you of the power I have over you, peacock?”

“No, I assure you the pin sticking through it has me very aware.” What..? “But that is exactly why I will not subject one of my own to such a fate.”

The conversation went on as she sat in that closet, her eyes now locked onto the corkboard she usually avoided. She quietly stared at the peacock butterfly, and realized the thing was going nuts. Fluttering and flapping like it was trying to get away from something-or maybe… or maybe to something. A knot grew in her stomach as the exchange between her father and this man became a blur she wasn’t truly comprehending, what was it that man had called him? Warden?

Later that day her father would announce he was going on a hunting trip, he was already packed and gone within the hour. She couldn’t help but notice that horseshoe on his hip as she hugged him goodbye.

She waited until she was sure he was gone to go back to the office, he didn’t know the door’s lock could be defeated with a simple gift card she’d gotten for Christmas two months before. Or maybe he did, and didn’t believe fae could carry gift cards with them?

Regardless it wasn’t the fae he should worry about today. Or maybe it would be, after she was done. She opened the window, pushed the screen up, and started with the less terrifying looking insects first, moths, butterflies, fireflies, they all shot off the board like a bat out of hell, desperate to get somewhere. She then worked her way through all of them, dragonflies, beetles, roaches, things she’d never even seen before. Once she board stood clear and the last of them had exited through the window, she once more pushed down the screen, closed it, and locked it for good measure. She wasn’t the one who’d done this, but she was that man’s daughter, and she didn’t want to know what his victims would do to her if they got inside.

Sadly it seemed locks didn’t apply to them, as when she walked into the living room she saw a truly magnificent, if a bit terrifying, creature. With wings behind it like a peacock butterfly. It grinned when it saw her, and she noted that nothing really needed that many teeth. She took a step back.

“You’re a brave one, aren’t you?” He asked, with the voice of that man from earlier, although this was even more certainly no human man.

“… I just did what I thought was right.”

“Which, for a monster hunter’s daughter, is certainly not what your father would have wanted.”

“I don’t much care for what he wants if I’m being honest. I. I love him but, he’s not a good man.” She wondered if she should be telling him this? Probably not. But the words had been said and she couldn’t really take them back.

“That he is not.” The fae stated, “You have done a great service to myself and quite a number of my kind.”

“I wouldn’t want a part of me pinned up in an office.” She shrugged, “I also wouldn’t want someone who hates my kind to have power over me.”

“This type of kindness would generally be returned in some way.”

“… This isn’t a type of gift I could politely refuse, is it?” She asked quietly. One thing she did know of the fae, is even in good intentions they could harm you. Fae and humans are very different creatures, and something that to them sounds helpful or charming could lead to a human’s demise.

“No, I do not believe it is.”

Deep Water Prompt #3020

The butterflies pinned to the board in my father’s office flutter sometimes. Strange men that must be fae visit often, calling him Warden, and I realize it’s not a decoration. It’s a jail.

[tpanan]

My Sunday Daily Blessings

June 4, 2023

Be still quiet your heart and mind, the LORD is here, loving you talking to you...........        

Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity (Catholic Observance) Lectionary 164

First Reading:  

Ex 34:4b-6, 8-9

Responsorial Psalm: 

Dn 3:52, 53, 54, 55, 56

Second Reading:

2 Cor 13:11-13

Verse Before the Gospel:    

Cf. Rv 1:8

R. Alleluia, alleluia.

Glory to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit; to God who is, who was, and who is to come.

R. Alleluia, alleluia.

**Gospel:      

Jn 3:16-18

**Reflection:

What does Scripture tell us about God and how he relates to us? When God met with Moses on Mount Sinai and made a covenant with the people of Israel, he revealed the nature of his character and his personal love for them:

"The LORD passed before him, and proclaimed, "The LORD, the LORD, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in mercy and faithfulness'" (Exodus 34:6).

God is all-loving, faithful, merciful, and forgiving by nature. God's love is supreme because it directs, orders, and shapes everything he does.

Love and judgment Scripture tells us that God is all just and all loving. How does his love and justice go together? God opposes sin and evil with his just wrath (his righteous anger) and right judgment - and he approaches sinful people and evil doers with mercy ("slow to anger" and "ready to forgive") and discipline ("fatherly correction" and "training in righteousness"). John the Evangelist tells us that the Father sent his Son into the world - not to condemn but to redeem - not to destroy but to heal and restore. Paul the Apostle tells us that "the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Romans 6:23). God does not desire the death of anyone (Ezekiel 18:23,32, Ezekiel 33:11, Wisdom of Solomon 1:13). Instead he gives us the freedom to choose between life and death - good and evil.

When we choose to sin and to go our own way apart from God, we bring condemnation upon ourselves. Sin draws us away from God and leads to a spiritual death - a death that is worse than physical loss of life because it results in a hopeless life of misery and separation from God's peace and joy. Jesus was sent on a rescue mission to free us from slavery to sin and death and to bring us the abundant life which will never end. His death brought us true freedom and abundant new life in his Spirit - as well as pardon, reconciliation and adoption as sons and daughters of God.

Jesus took upon himself all of our sins and nailed them to the cross (Colossians 2:14). His death was an atoning sacrifice for our sins and a perfect offering to the Father on our behalf. We can find no greater proof of God's love for fallen sinful humanity than the cross of Jesus Christ. "To ransom a slave God gave away his Son" (from an early Christian hymn for the Easter vigil liturgy). Jesus' mission was motivated by love and obedience. That is why he willingly laid down his life for us. Jesus told his disciples that there is no greater love than for a person to willingly lay down his or her life for a friend (John 15:13). Jesus loved us first - even while we were captives to sin and Satan - in order to set us free and make us friends and beloved children of God.

Believing in the Son of God Do you believe that Jesus personally died for you - for you alone - simply because he loved you? Scripture tells us that God knew each one of us even before we were knit in our mother's womb (Psalm 139:13, Jeremiah 1:5). We were created for a purpose - to be united with God and to share in his love and glory now and forever. Augustine of Hippo wrote: "God loves each one of us as if there were only one of us to love." God's love is complete and perfect because it is wholly directed towards our greatest good - to make us whole and to unite us in a perfect bond of love and peace. That is why God was willing to go to any length necessary to save us from slavery to sin and death.

How does God's love bring healing, pardon, and wholeness to our lives? God's love has power to set each one of us free from every form of bondage to sin - whether it be bondage to fear and guilt, pride and greed, envy and hatred. We can only know the love of God and experience his healing power to the degree that we put our faith in him and surrender our lives to his will. Faith is the key that opens the door to Christ and to his healing power in our lives. But for faith to be effective we must act and do our part. That is why faith requires repentance and obedience - turning away from unbelief and disobedience - and turning to the Lord with a believing heart and listening ear. That is why Jesus said, "whoever believes in me is not condemned" (John 3:18).

To believe that Jesus is the only Son of God who died for our sins is the key that opens the door to his presence and work in our lives. Jesus said, "Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me" (Revelation 3:20). The Lord Jesus knocks at the door of your heart - will you listen today and open at once?

Triune nature of God The Lord Jesus has revealed to his disciples the great mystery of our faith - the triune nature of God and the inseparable union of the eternal Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Jesus' mission is to reveal the glory of God to us - a Trinity of persons - God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit - and to unite us with God in a community of love. The ultimate end, the purpose for which God created us, is the entry of God's creatures into the perfect unity of the blessed Trinity.

The Jews understood God as Creator and Father of all that he made (Deuteronomy 32:6) and they understood the nation of Israel as God's firstborn son (Exodus 4:22). Jesus reveals the Father in an unheard of sense. He is eternally Father by his relationship to his only Son, who, reciprocally, is Son only in relation to his Father (see Matthew 11:27). The Spirit, likewise, is inseparably one with the Father and the Son.

The mission of Jesus and of the Holy Spirit are the same. That is why Jesus tells his disciples that the Spirit will reveal the glory of the Father and the Son and will speak what is true. Before his Passover, Jesus revealed the Holy Spirit as the "Paraclete" and Helper who will be with Jesus' disciples to teach and guide them "into all the truth" (John 14:17,26; 16:13). In baptism we are called to share in the life of the Holy Trinity here on earth in faith and after death in eternal light.

Clement of Alexandria, a third century church father, wrote:"What an astonishing mystery! There is one Father of the universe, one Logos (Word) of the universe, and also one Holy Spirit, everywhere one and the same; there is also one virgin become mother, and I should like to call her 'Church'."

We can know God personally May the Lord Jesus put his hands on our eyes also, for then we too shall begin to look not at what is seen but at what is not seen. May he open the eyes that are concerned not with the present but with what is yet to come, may he unseal the heart's vision, that we may gaze on God in the Spirit, through the same Lord, Jesus Christ, whose glory and power will endure throughout the unending succession of ages. (prayer of Origin, 185-254 AD)

Sources: 

Lectionary for Mass for use in the Dioceses of the United States, second typical edition, copyright (c) 2001, 1998, 1986, 1970 Confraternity of Christian Doctrine; Psalm refrain (c) 1968, 1981, 1997, international committee on english in the liturgy, Inc All rights reserved. Neither this work nor any part of it may be reproduced, distributed, performed or displayed in any medium, including electronic or digital, without permission in writing from the copyright owner. 

**Meditations may be freely reprinted for non-commercial use - please cite:  copyright © 2023 Servants of the Word, source:  dailyscripture.net, author Don Schwager.

[bellygunnr]

Muffled Perceptions

A gift for @poisonheadcrabsalesmansman

----

The sensation is not unlike a skull fracturing into pieces, not unlike watching someone's head being dashed against a rock, through a screen, through a video, footage distorted by limits of the hardware. One second, everything is in tact, then it is not, torn asunder in a violent burst-- he understands, now, the injuries humans sustain and how they might affect him, how a broken spine feels, rendered inoperable by the calculated delivery of a hammer head.

The worst part of it might be the lingering awareness. Death doesn't come for him, not like this, not when the engines are still burning and her keel isn't fully separated. The ropes are snapping, sure, but his dying breaths are used to make demands, usher things to do his bidding, shuffle his humans aboard escape pods and pray that his floundering subroutines are enough to keep their trajectory straight. Something base compels him. Something innate guides him, like an arrow, into doing the right thing.

But equally important is the Cole Protocol. Its decree echoes within his matrix, flooding his core, and he is brought deep within a prison cell once more-- an earnest pursuit of moral curiosity rebuked, his sense of self muffled by things he had no control over. Thoughts of breaking free, of ripping his own self apart, tease him, but this time--

He will have to cut his losses. There is no time. He has done everything in his power.

Everything becomes very small. Darkness is blinding him, eating away at his world. Familiar faces gaze upon him.

"Commander," Roland says readily. "All evac procedures are go. Pull me."

There's no need for fanfare. Witticisms would be in poor taste. The chances of survival disappear as the Infinity's hull-- his very body-- breaks into flame.

"You won't be riding with either of us, Roland. It's not safe. We're too high profile," Commander Palmer says.

She sounds pained. Her helmet jerks behind her. Captain Lasky is already gone, stuffed inside a getaway pod of his own design. The bridge security detail, however, remains.

Because they were never assigned to protect the bridge or its high-ranking inhabitants. No, they always guarded something more ephemeral, intangential. Him.

"Spartan Miller will be your carrier for the day," Commander Palmer says. "Grab him and go. We'll regroup planet-side. You know what to do."

Roland knows Spartan Miller. He wonders if gods and myths are real, wonders if they're sparing a bit of their attention to impart some fortune in this long list of disasters. He salutes, silent, busy with breaking himself down for retrieval.

Mjolnir armor was nothing like starship architecture. He's not sure why anyone would say differently.

His consciousness shorts out as Spartan Miller passes his hand through his hologram.

Jared wakes up with a gasp. Sweat slicks his skin, floods his helmet, so he yanks it off with a jerk, blinking away the afterimages of his dream. Reality feels uncertain, the ground swimming in and out of focus as he struggles to come to terms with residual adrenaline and the incompatible notion of being everything.

It takes him a minute, but eventually his heart slows down. His breathing evens out, lungs languishing in the luxury of fresh air. He figures it's alright to enjoy it-- just this once.

The Brutes were, somehow, a diurnal race, and it reflected in their military stratagem.

Are you alright?

The voice is small in the back of his brain, not his own.

"I'm alright," Jared sighs. "I'm okay."

Sorry.

It's strange to hear Him apologize. For a while, Jared thought it wasn't in His nature.

"Don't be," he says. "That was yours, then? Is that how it felt?"

Something like that.

He turns his helmet over, watching the blue visor flash gold in time with the conversation. He rubs a gloved thumb over a crack, wondering if it was superficial or more serious.

"Do you...?" Jared swallows, trying not to let his voice crack. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Carefully, Jared slots his helmet back on. The HUD flickers, taking a moment to re-sync with the greater part of the systems in play. The presence, as best as he can describe it, recedes, but never truly goes away.

"We don't have time to talk about it," Roland says, plaintive.

"Sure, Roland. We have nothing but time."

Especially if they woke up this early.

Aside from readjusting his position on the wet ground, Jared doesn't move. He settles deeper into the gap he's made between overgrowth and stones, flinching at the sudden scattering of birds. The sun hasn't yet risen, but experience tells both of them that dawn is just around the corner.

Roland sighs, scuffing the speakers. Ice water trickles down Jared's spine as he sinks deeper into their shared bond, cozying up to the neural lace plunged into the human's brain.

"I didn't think I could dream," Roland says slowly. "That's what I get for watching yours."

Jared tilts his head. "You can see my dreams?"

"A little, yes."

"Alright. So we're having nightmares about the same thing, then?"

His skin prickles, the equivalent of Roland shrugging. By now, he's come to expect it, though he can't help but wonder if the Master Chief and Cortana also played this song and dance when riding together.

"Are we? Or are you somehow influencing how I dream? What if that wasn't me at all?" Roland asks, an edge to his voice.

"Roland," Jared says tightly.

This type of conversation isn't new, per se. No one enjoys nightmares, especially when they involve their occupation. No one enjoys acknowledging their experiences as traumatic. He can only imagine how Roland, a so-called "Smart" AI, feels, contending with this all too human development.

He doesn't like it. Jared knows that, not just because he can feel it, but because he knows Roland, far better than he has any right to. It was luck that brought them together when the Infinity went down, but luck couldn't account for the rapport they already had.

If he wasn't afraid Commander Palmer was dead, he'd bet she knew about them, too.

But there was no way to know now.

"That was our home," Jared says. "And she's gone. And we're losing. Stress is normal."

"Stress is an understatement," Roland says bitterly. "But it's over and done with."

Maybe they do need to move. Jared can feel it, like lactic acid in the muscles. Roland is anxious and jittery in the back of his head, his overactive threads starting to pluck through the software fabric of his armor. A golden hue lines his HUD as proof.

He picks himself up, mindful not to disturb his surroundings anymore than he already had, tries to remember what their attack plan was beyond 'survive.' Occasionally, they tapped into the remaining UNSC comms, just to get an idea of their locations and progress, but there was a certain necessity to hiding their existence even from allies. Willfully staying out of the fight blackened his soul, but humanity couldn't afford Roland to die in a mortal's firefight.

(He couldn't afford it).

Not paying complete attention leads to Jared gouging hand prints into the rock face. He stares at the evidence, feeling Roland 'lean forward' to also look, distantly bemused. They both shrug it off and haul themselves up and over the crest, armaments rattling as they slip in their magnetic clasps.

"Six klicks thataway an Elite detachment overtook FOB Golf," Roland whispers in his ear. "If you're looking for something a little more engaging."

Jared snorts. "Fun as that would be, I have a different idea."

More cold. Fingers, sifting through his thoughts.

"The lockers?" Roland says in surprise. "What about them?"

"Need to be useful in a different way. Gonna turn them into supply caches."

Cool satisfaction. Jared doesn't understand how Roland can feel so cold when he's such a warm color, a warm presence. They reach the top of their rock formation and linger, looking out over their limited expanse. The lack of conventional horizon still rubs him the wrong way. Even Requiem had a horizon. A sun and a moon.

Zeta Halo does too, but it's all wrong. An uncanny valley facsimile.

With no input from him, Roland places a nav point on his HUD. It's not in the direction Jared was thinking, but he pulls the sniper rifle out anyway, borrowing its scope to better understand the intent.

"A different wreck?"

"The frigate Close but No Cigar," Roland explains. "You know, I have a map?"

"Yeah? Is it any more accurate than last time?"

Jared tracks their nearer surroundings with the rifle. Nothing was moving yet, but sunlight was starting to leak out, brightening the grass. It's so earth-like, even if the day and night cycles are all wrong. He hates it.

Roland doesn't respond, a haughty indignation lingering in his circuits. Jared frowns, feeling a little bad. But their journey through is silent-- until a strange glowing tower pulls them up short.

From it, words belted, distinctly not English. Jared waits patiently for his translator to parse it, smoothly shifting into the whiny nasal squeak of an Unggoy.

"Well," Jared sighs. "That's... a development."

They-- not himself, not Roland, but them, together, reach for their sniper rifle. If Jared looks down, he might see a golden overlay turning his hands iridescent, but he doesn't, focused on lining up a high-calibre shot with its exposed power source.

A resounding, jaw-shaking bang later, and the broadcast is snuffed. Roland sighs, fingers shaking.

Jared pulls them together and closes the rest of the distance between themselves and the nav point.

The Close but No Cigar did not go easily, if her twisted, split hull is anything to go by. Whatever had taken her down must have been unique-- or she was caught in the ring's slipspace jump, hence the radiation still lingering on her body, and the fact that her bow is nearly a kilometer away--

"Roland," Jared says firmly.

The thoughts slow, but the information is still fresh. Jared reviews it distantly, clinically, trying to offer some kind of reprieve for his friend.

"No survivors," Roland says dully. "Not new."

We're not here for survivors, Jared thinks, and hopes Roland doesn't hear it.

"We don't know that," is what he says instead. "Come on."

They both know for a fact that whatever poor ship had managed to crash on the Halo were used as bases, however briefly. That meant hodgepodge supplies and survivors (friends) and Jared puts on a smile that makes his facial muscles ache, doggedly picking his way down the crest that overlooked the bisected frigate. He knows they need to be careful, but before he can reach it, Roland is already activating their camo unit.

At the very least, the wreck is no longer burning. Maybe it never did, or the scorched metal is from something more recent. Jared peeks around the cover he'd tucked under, clicking his jaw shut at what greets him.

Schematics for Strident-class frigates scroll over his HUD. Jared tolerates them for a second, then dismisses them, squaring his shoulders and darting into the torn open guts of the ship.

Shock trooper drop pods fill up the narrow space, undeployed. Evacuation procedures for the frigates are loud in the back of his mind and panic is a broken ice flow in his lace. On the upper deck, there will be, possibly, untapped supplies.

—

Spartan armor or no, there’s only so much one man can carry. Still, Jared is pleased with what he’s managed to filch– whatever roving band of UNSC fell upon his caches would hopefully find the resources useful. But with that out of the way, he now had to sit down and focus, steady himself in the face of the torrential screaming in the back of his head and the gold tinge to his HUD.

“Roland.”

He has to say it out loud, loud enough that it vibrates in his helmet. His thoughts are swarmed and drowned out by Roland himself, after all; it’d been hard enough keeping his brain together long enough to even walk. 

“Roland, hey. Hey!”

Idly, he wonders if his shock training will work on an AI. It has to, right? Roland’s talked about it before– smart AI is built off of fresh-dead human brains. The degree of separation is minimal at best. His throat tightens as the panicking in the back of his head suddenly stops.

All of Roland’s attention is on him.

“We’re done. No more frigate. I got some data for you, if you want to go through it.”

Of course, the data is strictly related to the frigate, but maybe without the constant visual reminder–

“You got the ship registers?”

Roland sounds breathless. Instinctively, Jared holds out his palm, laying it flat so that the in-built projector activates itself, warming up to the tune of amber pixels spooling into a seven-inch tall shape. Roland seems to glitch at the edges before bursting into nervous movement, hands akimbo.

“I did. And I don’t think– I don’t think there was as much of a tragedy there. I think a lot of them got out.”

He cups his hands around Roland’s form. The screaming has subsided. Thoughtful consideration seeps into their neural link.

“...Okay. But don’t give me the files yet, Miller.”

He measures his breathing. One, two, threefour. God, he could use a smoke.

“Don’t go stealing it either, Roland,” he says teasingly. 

Not for the first time, Roland and Jared share a mutual longing– to abandon their objective, their hiding, and rally with the scattered and broken UNSC. Jared sinks down into his encampment instead, helmet knocking against the rock. The lockers and caches would have to be enough.

For now, at least.

[spikesbimbo]

 Kingky

Pairing: Prince!Atsumu x f!reader

Summary: getting royal dick on valentine's day < 3

cw:  body worship, dacryphilia, marking, breeding , praise (receiving and giving), sir/king kink, defaming royalty??(idfk what to call it) treason, possessiveness, borderline yandere, hurt/comfort, body worship, rough sex to soft sex, mind games, sacrilege, slight cnc (barley), former virgin reader, corruption kink, false sympathy, sweetheart to meanie >: ( , idk if this is slow burn

wc: 7.8k

a/n:  for the jj plays cupid event!!!!! Thanks to @alto-march-of-death and @kmorgzz for helping build this story and giving me the title.

Happy valentines day, 

            love valentine < 3

- 18+ Minors DNI

“Stop being a crybaby, calm down”

His stern voice making you more anxious, not knowing how you ended up sitting in his lap. Feeling like a dog under him, or right now on top of him. Wondering how you got in this position daily, hourly.

You didn't understand why he kept you around, always having his hand around you whenever he could. You weren't the only pretty girl in the country, you weren't even qualified to be with him, being a somewhat servant before him snatching you up.

As much as you tried you couldn't ignore the stares and side comments of all the other girls in the harem, it made your eyes water, trying to wipe them when you got back to your room the prince gave you, all the others living in the same building, much more run down than yours; maybe that was one of the reasons.

Looking in the solid gold mirror he gifted you, ‘just cause’, always reflecting your red and puffy eyes daily as you called your most trusted maid to grab you some ice.

She was the only thing keeping you sane. No, the prince never did or pushed you to give him anything, but it was natural to be scared. Being in a foreign state after your guardians sold you. Aran, the only one who treated you like a human being and not a prize, saving you from being sold completely by saying that the prince would take care of you. As he worked under him his whole life as guard, proving his dedication.

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

Thinking back to the day you listened to the first love of your life, dressing in their outfits on the day of the celebration. Aran keeping a close watch on you, seeing your uncertainty knowing you had no other way out.

He flashed you a small smile, not big enough for anyone to see but you, trying his best to reassure you that everything was going as planned.

Hearing the drums stop, you and everyone else at the festival turned their heads to the large door, carved out of the most luxurious stone, their family crest being engraved onto it.

You bowed seeing everyone else do it, the head advisors words being caught in your mind, "To properly curtsy, you place the right foot behind the left and then it's just a slight bob, what you don't want is when a lady goes too far down and then she can't come up."

This being the third time you done it since you've been here, the first after running into prince Sakusa’s advisor. Him declaring that you would be a perfect match for his concubine after seeing you at the banquet the other day.

He continued by saying that he wouldn't be able to deny your beauty and that you would be perfect for him, even making an exception for you due to his distaste with the women in his country.

You tried to zone out of the conversation until the words “produce an heir” brought you back. You froze, throat closing, sweat now forming on your body extremely repulsed at the thought of being in that situation. Aran quickly noticed the state you were in and told his advisor that you weren't feeling good, leading you back to your room, his hand supporting your back as you trembled in his hold.

You entered the room that had been provided for you while you stayed here, immediately crying your eyes out as soon as the door closed. Your dreams of having a family, a normal family, the only thing you've ever wanted, being snatched right from your roughed up hands.

You turned your attention back , hearing the Herald speak. His voice being loud shocking you, but you still kept your balance not wanting to mess up already.

“Now introducing His Grace, the Duke of Inari, followed by His Royal Highnesses, the Princes of Inari.”

You slightly looked up, seeing the king followed by the two princes, not being able to tell them apart.

But luckily Aran moved ajar to his prince, the other prince’s and duke’s guard doing the same for them before they went their separate ways. Everyone lifting their heads now as you did the same following in suit. The party resumed itself as you could see everyone going back to drinking and taking along with the music returning.

They moved to the prince's chair, making out that they were talking, not being able to read their lips, not that you wanted too, what was their business you had no involvement in nor did you want to. But that changed when you saw aran gesture towards you out of the corner of your eye.

That's when the prince you would grow to care for laid his dark eyes on you for the first time, not being able to take them off, making you shiver in embarrassment. The outfit you had on only covering the parts that needed to be. The ‘dress’ you had on having slits on your legs all the way up your upper thighs,borderline hips.

The white, almost see through material held together by jewels and gold, along with your hair being fastened the same way, hoping nothing was out of place. You wanted to do a good job for him, trusting him with all your heart since he was the only you've had your whole life.

You were brought back to reality by noticing that Aran and the price weren't in the same place, quickly looking around before you were greeted by a charming smile as you turned your head straight again.

“Good evening my lady” he said, holding his right hand covered in jewels out, slightly bowing to be eye level with you, his smile not fading. And as you looked him in the eyes you froze yet again, getting entranced by his gaze, so warm and compassionate yet terrifyingly cold, remembering the power he held.

You looked up at aran for a second, him reassuring you that you were supposed to give him your hand, so you did.

“Good evening, your royal highness.” trying to be as confident as you could, again breaking eye contact with the prince one again to look at aran, making sure everything you did was right.

“Would you care to join me for some drinks?” the crown on his head shining brighter than the stars, his eyes still lingering on you.

“Y-yes your highness” you stuttered out, shocked that this was working. Even if you didnt what you were supposed to say. No? You'd probably be executed if you did, the thoughts plaguing your mind as you walked alongside him and Aran towards their table.

He sat down patting next to him for you to sit. Yo looked up at Aran, standing there nodding as confirmation. As you then sat next to him, as far away as you could without it being obvious, or at least he didn't mind.

He poured you a drink into a gold cup, guessing the red liquid to be wine, before pushing it towards you “Thank you your highness” you said more assured this time, picking it up with both hands wrapped around it, nervous that you'd drop it.

This continued the whole night, feeling more comfortable due to the alcohol and Aran being your ‘protector’; even though he'd kill you if the prince asked him too. Lucky that you weren't lightheaded, this night being the first time you've ever had more than one drink.

You even laughed, the prince saying something funny trying to get it out of you, and from the moment he saw your smile he was entranced.

A few days after you were requested by the prince, Aran coming to fetch you. The relief on both of your faces that you'd at least end up somewhere where he could watch over you too.

You were greeted by him after passing through the gate, the prince himself helping you get out of the carriage and not your guard. He expressed that he couldn't keep his mind off you for days, your pretty face being the only thing running though his mind before finally asking you to be one of his girls.

As much as you didnt want to be “one of his many girls” you didn't have any other option than to be with, some random guy, sorry- a prince. Or be sold to an old guy whose wife ‘suddenly’ died, the thought making you cringe.

You put on a fake smile, finally let go of all your hopes and dreams, letting yourself be his, completely in and out. “Yes your highness. I would love that!”

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

“Miss y/n!” your maid said coming back. “The prince wants to see you!” she exasperatedly said, running back here as it was urgent to get you ready to see him, always having to look perfect for him.

He probably wanted to talk to you about valentine’s day, something he or anyone in this country doesn't celebrate, mentioning it to him about a week ago as you laid in his arms after being with him the whole evening.

Thinking back on it; being embarrassed at how you asked, covering your face at the thought.

“I-it's um-, a day where… couples spend together” you said in a combination of mumbling and whispering out the last part, not wanting to make anything out of you twos 'relationship’. Not expecting anything after being together after being his for almost 9 months.

You've grown accustomed to not expecting anything, always getting disappointed in the end. Being emotional was hard, running in the nearest private place letting your tears run free at the littlest things, but at the end of the day it was just because no one listened to you. Someone being the slightest bit attentive to you was all it took to make you happy,.

She ran a bath for you, the steam rising as you got in it, giving you the ice you requested for your face while putting in some oils from the flowers you were growing.

Them residing in the same garden that grew the ones you planted for the a few months ago, wanting to give them as a sort of goodbye present, or not. Still being unsure about staying with him, even already writing a letter around a month ago; hiding it in the pocket in the fur coat.

You just knew at the moment you were going to play into his hands, letting him do whatever he wanted to you, not that you wouldn't enjoy it; he always took care of you.

Another reason you've grown attached to him, not realizing if you genuinely liked him, or the affection and attention he so profusely gave you. Sometimes you ever questioned your love, not romantic anymore for Aran, wondering the same. The both of them being the only ones to ever treat you with any sort of care or respect, besides your personal maid.

After doing your hair the way he liked it, along with putting on the light fitted dress you loved to wear, tou took one last look in the mirror before you walked to his office.

“My lord...” you stummerd now, clinging onto his robe straddling his leg, a heat rising up to your face. Your body never knowing how to control itself after being with him.

The other woman's jealousy still got to you, even the way they looked at you made you cower. You were sensitive, still not numb to it after everything you've been through. You were weak inside and outside. Nowhere near good enough to be his, whatever he wanted to call it.

But he noticed, not letting none of them do anything to you, you having your own personal bodyguard now. Usually spending the night with him in his room, and during the day you just sit in his lap and entertain him while he works.

He was in no way a bad prince, in fact he was a great one in your opinion, putting everyone first along with his brother, twin brother, as you learned. But something you also understood was do as you were told or it would be the end of your life, as your dear friend Aran said.

“Just because he likes you doesn't mean he’ll keep you forever.” His words always replaying themselves in your mind every time the prince did something for you, whether it was buying you something again, or that one time he gifted you a whole garden for you to tend to when he couldn't be around.

Yes you were insecure about you two’s ‘relationship’, wondering if you should just leave as you later found out any of the girls were free to leave. But the way he treats you you've grown accustomed to. Waking up in the morning, the first thing crossing your mind being him, even if you slept in separate beds. Immediately reaching out for him being disappointed when he wasn't next to you.

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

There’s nobody else here, which is as much of a surprise to you as it is to the rest of the girls that had been ushered out. It’s just you and him, with the overwhelming tension blinding and dizzying.

The bath that you two were in, warmed to your liking, was only adding to that fact. After rubbing his shoulders and feeding him the sliced apples he liked, pampering him like the royalty he was, your arms got tired along with your mind. Thinking about the fact that you may not be here in a month, the ache in your heart growing.

Reaching out for some of the wine his maids had prepared earlier in the glasses as he beat you to it. Gently taking your jaw into his hand, tilting your head back enough, as you let him. Letting the slightly chilled liquid make its way down your throat. His eyes grazing you like you were a little lamb and he was a big bad wolf coming knocking on your door.

His thumb swipes once across your lips, partly cleaning up some of the wine that escaped your them. His soft grin widening, his voice being laced with the smell of liquor. “you’re so pretty, my love.” pushing your pulled up hair to the side, laying soft open mouthed kisses along your neck. Shivering at the touch while melting into his arms. “so pretty.”

You heart flutters in fearful anticipation, the lust in your body rising to the top. Every movement of his forcing a sharp, terrifying jab at your chest. He stares, stares for too long

His fingers holding a vice grip to your jaw, thumb poking at your lips, tugging your lower lip down. Marveling at you for a few more moments, before his hand falls back to his side, and he sighs.

He was entranced from the very moment he saw you.

He helped you out of the tub as it grew too cool, placing your hands in his as he then picked you up over the ledge. Placing your feet on the floor, your wet body now getting cold while admiring his slightly tanned figure as he loosely wrapped the light robe around your frame, doing the same to himself.

His broad toned chest peeking through; his pretty collarbones exposed just for you. Impure thoughts getting to you as you remembered the last time the two of you were in here. Your legs wrapped around his head, dangling, as he made you cum over and over again on the cold marble countertop.

He picked you up again, mumbling out something along the lines of “beautiful”. His big arms supporting your back and legs as he took you to his bed, sitting you down in his lap as he calls the maids in, always females, telling them to bring in some food before placing his attention back on you.

“Are you okay dear?” he asked looking at you yet again bringing you back to reality, placing his hand on your thigh, making its way slightly under your robe .

“Yes your highness-, I'm fine. Thank you for asking.” you responded giving him a warm smile. Not entirely fake, as you were enjoying yourself, but were you really happy?

You wanted the average; a nice house, a family you could always come back to, a warm bed and clothes. And he made sure to give you all the material things you could ask for. But again, were you really happy? At the end of the day you just wanted genuine love and affection.

The maids knocked on the door, him letting them in as they brought trays of food, your eyes lighting up as a smile peeked through when you saw your favorite. Making you heart beat even faster that he remembered what you told him, even though he asked you.

You fed him as usual, placing him before yourself as you were taught, not minding. Instead feeling like a mom feeding her kids, a giggle coming between you lips at how peaceful he looked.

“What's so funny?” he asked, his words coming out as concerned that he wasn't in on it.

“Nothing my lord, its just… i was thinking of how cute you looked” you said trying to hold back the laughs still trying to make their way out of your mouth.

“Cute?” he questioned, looking vaguely offended that someone would call him, the strong, handsome, intimating prince ‘cute’.

“Yes my lord”

“What about me is cute, huh?” he asked again, sounding like a child. “Is it this?” he said, now grabbing a piece of meat while opening your mouth. Taking the food in between your lips, your cheeks stuffed as you chewed on it, looking the happiest he's ever seen you. His heart growing with every movement you did. “Your right… it is.”

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked, moving his hand to your waist firmly gripping it. Feeling the affection ooze out of him as he leaned into your neck. His breath being blown onto your neck with every word, his lips being so close yet so far.

You nodded, another smile appearing on your face, trying to hold back your eyes watering, not letting one tear slip out. You turned your body facing him, his hands never leaving your body. Resting your head against his chest, letting you do whatever you wanted to him.

He turned your head out of his body, facing him now. Connecting your eyes with his while he stroked your forehead.

His lips meet yours, not even realizing for a second, the feeling of his plump ones against yours being so natural at this point. Making you give him a good morning, goodnight, a good whenever kiss, everyday. One kiss turning into many, an overwhelming amount by the time his mouth is trailing down your shoulder. His wet open mouth kisses, spit and marks being left behind.

Stopping when his neck can't turn anymore. Instead repositioning you to sit higher on his lap as he now can kiss your arm, doing the same but adding his hands down your body this time.

You let out a whine when he slid your dainty little robe to the side, your body now being exposed to the cooler air, tensing you up. Hardening, hoping he would just keep paying attention to everything but that, your nipples rubbing up and down against the linen fabric, your legs straddled his thigh as he slightly bounced you everytime he reattached himself to your skin.

His warm hand eased the cold feeling as he placed in on your inner thigh; a wave of heat rushing through you as he gripped it, fingers inching closer and closer while his eyes looked down upon you, his lip behind your ears, feeling his hot breath be blown onto the to top of your spine making yous shiver in his summery embrace.

“y -ah, your high-ness” you moaned out, your hands nothing compared to the size of his, reaching out for his wrist, barely being able to wrap your trembling fingers around it.

Your dramatic, conscious tears finally spilling out as you feel his length grown against the swell of your ass involuntary grinding against it.

“Why so formal my love?” he smirked, the hunger in his voice evident, spreading your poor little cunt open. His fingers sliding down it, gathering the slick in between them before teasing his finger in your hole. Only putting just past his nail in, feeling the wet hotness slide down his knuckle letting out a heavy groan at the sight.

He pulled the finger out, moving his head so you could have a clear view of him as he placed his ring finger on his tongue sucking on it, deliberately making it sound as lewd as it could. Loving how flustered your pretty face got as you hid into his arm, clenching your fists around the fluff of his collar.

He let out a little laugh, thinking about how precious you were while sliding his hands up your thigh and separating the sides of your robe letting the shoulder fall off completely all the way down to your waist.

His fingers covered in slick and saliva now fondling your tits he freed, his middle finger and thumb pinching your nipple, already hardened from earlier. Internally blaming it on the cold and not how worked up he got you.

Opening your legs with his other hand, letting you back rest of his chest once again, hiking your knees up to give him a full view, looking down or in the big mirror he had against the wall.

Returning his hands to the mess of your cunt, this time actually sliding his finger fully in, no warning besides the fact that he was obviously growing impatient. Wanting to devour you, but reminding himself that he had to take his time or he would break you.

“You get like this… for me?” he teased nudging his head into yours, forcing you to look at your reflection. Your legs spread open just for him, your greedy little hole swallowing him up as you whined out not knowing for what.

Your mostly naked body against his still clothed,m while his eyes stared into yours from the mirror, your cheeks being squished into his hands as he makes you maintain looking at the scene, bringing your pouted lips to his, so irresistible.

The formerly neat bed you two were on now being the opposite, the roses you said you loved being spread out all over the mattress as he pulled away from the kiss to lay you down on the soft quilt

His body towering over yours, knowing already in the back of his head that the maids would have to come in for a second time to clean up, just to throw away his sheets after he took care of you tonight.

Voice high pitched as you sobbed in embarrassment from his lips attaching to your nipple, fingers fucking into you shallowly, his slow pace getting faster every second. 

Sucking on your chest, the pain being eased by his tongue dragging the spit over them, before working against it by using his teeth almost drawing blood. Your writhing under him, mouth open, no sound coming out except gasps, the way you’re squirming under him makes him grow even harder .

“I just want to fuck you, my dear, over and over again. The only thing I ever think of is you. Your precious moans and the pleasured look on your face is always running through my mind.” kissing away the tears falling on your cheeks before they fell onto your chest.

 Leaning back into you and whispering into your ear, his breath tickling your baby hairs. “Fuck you till you cant think anymore, till all you can think of is me... just like you deserve.”

Sweat dripping down your back as he flips you over, your robe falling completely off, bare as the day you were born. Him trailing his finger down your spine, your ass already in the air knowing how he liked it.

Feeling the need burning under your skin, your hole clenching around nothing, wanting so desperately to be filled.

 He wants to defile you, fuck you so much that all you know is him. Whether it was his cock making its way into your hole or mouth, barely being able to fit it but doing your best. His cock twitching at the thought of it.

His hand wrapping around your throat bringing you out of your own little world, choking you with your back to his chest, your knees doing their best to support you.

 The atmosphere quickly changing, feeling the displeasure seep out from him. “Now what was that letter, hmm?” he questioned, already knowing, wanting you to explain what the fuck was going on in that pretty little head of yours.

The fact that you, a noble now thanks to him, wanted to leave the man who gave you everything you heart desired? He thought you were crazy. Even questioning if anyone had put any poison in your food.

“Y-your highness!” you choked out, turning around quickly trying to solve the problem you created, fat tears falling once again.

 “I- um, well… the other women were-“ you cried thinking back to this morning when you went to grab the white and yellow flowers that you've been pampering for so long. This now being the second time they've done something like this.

“A-and…i've taken a liking to you, Your highness. please forgive me!” you sobbed out, knowing what you said. His naturally flirty nature made you doubt yourself, Not knowing if he even liked you back. 

Your head now hurting from putting yourself in this position, already getting too attached to him, what were you thinking? You? With the future king, your food must have really been tampered with.

“Huh?” he said, ignoring the words coming out of your mouth being music to his ears. His somber voice turning damned as his anger was rising.

“you'd think i'd let you leave me? I don't think you understand dear...i'd kill you and everyone working under you if you left me.'' you winced at the threat is his tone, not knowing if he was being sincere or not, working against it so you'd never find out.

“You don't think I noticed? I always have guards around you. They let me know your every movement, whether it's taking a stroll outside or going to the bathroom in the middle of the night, and they just so happened to see you crying your eyes out.” He stated loosening his grip. “But don't worry dear, I took care of them.”

“W-what?”

“You'll never have to see them again my love, I got rid of them.” he said with his unforgiving smile, almost cooing at you. Moving his hand from around your neck to cupping your face, his body still hovering over you. “So now it's just me and you.”

The strange thing is that you felt no fear, even knowing that getting rid of them meant he killed some of them, but why did it make your heart flutter? Why did it get you more excited? You were really going insane.

“You know I'm the only man that can take care of you, the only one can fill this needy little cunt up. he said, spreading you open, slightly pushing one of his fingers in. “i've got your slutty body trained to get soaking at just my presence”

“my lord-” you sang, thinking of how gentle he was while still controlling you. Remembering the first time he laid his hands on you. It hurt so bad, even though he spent a good amount of time prepping you to the point where you felt ‘messy’, but it still pained you to take him.

The first time you've ever been touched, and when you told him he froze, never being in this situation before. He thrived knowing that he would be the one to take the purity out of your body, preparing a whole week to ease you up. But you would never tell him this, not because you were scared for your life, but more of a caring reason, not wanting to hurt his feelings and ego in a sense.

“That's not my name.” he said, shoving his finger all the way in you in one motion, gasping at the action, still not letting a word out . “Fuck princess, call me by my name.”

You hesitated, your body not following suit. “Cmon love” he said almost pleading with you, his voice once changing again, sounding like a sad kid right now. “You're not gonna get anything till I hear that pretty voice say my name” he continued moving his finger in you, your moans bouncing off the walls.

You've never been so conflicted, not knowing what to do, just letting yourself be his completely in and out again. “P-prince Atsumu-”

“Fuck.” he groaned, your soft whine letting out his name, accompanied by prince. But he could deal with that. That fact that he's got you wrapped around his finger right now, literally, has him fueled. This all he needs to keep him going, to prove you would be nothing without him, without realizing deep down it was the same for him.

“You only get like this for me don't you. Of course you do! i'm the only man you've ever been with.” he confidently stated, keeping it that way, not caring if he had to use his bloodthirsty hands to do it. “Your brain only thinks dirty thoughts when I'm around, huh?”

He continued playing with you, touching every part of your body, the parts that he taught you about, some that you couldn't even get to, making you act like a fool under him getting him even more ansty. “fuck-.” he groaned taking his clothes fully off, letting his cock finally be free. The friction of his robe already making it leak with pre-cum, standing on its own against his stomach, so red and needy.

“You ready princess?” he said dragging you by your ass towards him, rolling you over as you arched your back, now face down ass up.

Presenting yourself for him as he let his cock rest on your ass, lubing it all up with your slick as he rubbed against it, wanting to stretch you out comfortably for you, pain and pleasure to mix not be separate.

“a-ahh,” you panted out, his thrusts immediately taking your breath away, not being able to catch it. His hands wandering all over your body before grabbing you shoulder, pulling you back against him, his other hand grabbing your tits, his grip tight.

HIs slow pace quickens as you clench around him, his other hand gripping under your hips to hold you up. He's never heard something so beautiful in his life, your moans and whines echoing around in his big room.

He's also never seen something this beautiful, looking in the mirror as your face is all fucked out for him. You tiny little cunt taking him whole, his balls slapping against your clit making you squeal with every thrust.

This position being his favorite, him able to see your body in every angle with help of the mirror, letting him abuse your body for hours. Watching his big hands tease your hardened nipples while you wheezed out nonsense, going completely dumb from his dick.

“You gonna be louder? Gonna let your precious guard know your getting fucked?” he tells you, thrusting into you harder, the jealousy that was settled in him rising back up. Ever since he first saw you he noticed the way you looked at him, putting it to the side due to the fact that he and Aran were close and that you too had nothing going on.

But the possessiveness in him grew after you tried to leave him, wanting to claim you in every way, wanting you to not be even able to function without him or his dick, him being the only thing in your mind. The heat growing under his skin this time, burning up throughout him as he fucks into you harder, pulling you close to him, his face now in your neck.

You could only whine at the shame you felt, Aran not even crossing your mind like that anymore. His hand unyielding its place on your breast, his fingernails leaving marks there as leaves sloppy kisses under your ear, knowing how sensitive you were there.

“You like this, right? Getting fucked like a whore, showing off. Like it when you’re stuffed full of my cock, pounding my own cum into you? You know cant leave me”

The vulgar splurge of words coming from his mouth along with his cock nuding your cervix at this angle was knocking the sense out of you, letting your moans finally be free, not holding them back anymore. Your body going limp in his hold, lucky that he was holding onto you so desperately, his hot breath sticking to the slobber he left on your neck.

“tsumu,” you gasped out to his delight, not even realizing what you had just said, too lost in pleasure. Knowing that he now has you in the palm of his hand. Saying his name so casually and lewd, like he wasn't going to rule the country one day. Pushing against his tight unchanging hold on you. “Can’t , please― ”

“You’re addressing someone of importance you know.” He said, regripping the base of your neck hard enough to hold you in place. “People are killed for not addressing royalty properly. Confidence overflowing through his words, finally having the upper hand.

“It would be a shame if that happened to you”. He continued, a slight tease in his voice, his cock getting harder looking at your pretty little tears dripping down your cheeks, falling onto your tits.

“-i didn’t mean to!” you sniffled, moving your arms backwards, grabbing onto him, lucky that he wouldn't cut your hands off for touching royalty at him. Tears now flowing from fear and pleasure.

“Tell me who I am, then I might forgive you.” he teased, playing mind games with you, having you fall and break into his hands, made him grow in excitement. “M-my lord” you moaned, not wanting to give in. “No.” he asserted, his grip on your neck tightening again. “Tell me who i really am”

You trembled in his hold that was growing looser with every second, knowing exactly what he wanted. “f-future king” you muttered out trying not to cry, embarrassed of how this, he, was affecting you.

You would normally be scared in this situation but the way his cock was pulsing inside you making all your worries go away. If you were to die, you would gladly if this was the reason why.

Your words getting to him, somehow fucking into you harder, bruising your cervix, breaking into your womb. “You want me cum inside? Leave my cum stuffed up inside of you? Hmm?” you could only nod, knowing you had no other choice, not that you wouldn't choose the other option in this situation, the feeling of pleasure overriding your logical thoughts.

“Can't hear you.” He uttered, groans following him. ”y-yes!” you whined like a baby, not wanting the feeling of him to leave. You were really spoiled, always getting what you wanted, and as usual he followed though, never saying no to you. “What a good girl, already thinking of how to help me.”

You don't know how long it’s been anymore, can’t think of anything besides ‘Prince Atsumu’, just how he wanted it. He couldn't picture anything other than him fucking you full of cum until your swelling with it. Unable to move as he flips you over facing him, wanting to see face first the mess he was making in your cunt.

Every part of him wants to own you, in and out. Wants to break you down until you're completely his, until your body responds to only him, until your brain is trained to be completely his, not giving any other man any attention.

“Want me to breed you, want me to fuck so much of my cum into you, that it’ll be spilling outta you for days? M’gonna knock you up full of my babies, just like a good little girl,” he groaned, having your wrists pinned to the bed with one hand.

Not like you could move, his strong arms holding you in place. Your pitiful whines not being heard over the sound of his balls slapping into you, the sound of you creaming all over him being white noise at this point. But the idea is nice at the moment; being unable to move, just being Prince Atsumu’s, the future king of Inari’s plaything to fuck as he pleases.

“Tight little cunt, swallowing my cock up,” he tells you, watching as the drool escapes your mouth, kissing it off of you. “Gonna fuck you till your pregnant angel, I’m gonna fuck you again and again until your carrying my heir. You’d like that, right love? Fuck my cum in and out of you.”

“y-yeah tsumu please tsu- tsumiee, please -ahhh” you cried, not caring what the consequences were. He was thrilled, his excitement being shown through his body, finally breaking you down to this state.

The fact that he turned you, a sweet, nervous virgin, into a needy little thing. Still remembering the day he took it, getting on his knees for the first time in his life, being the first person he's ever pleased and not the opposite.

Something about you made him keep coming back, wanting to see your face scrunch up in delight, caring about you more than himself, wanting to be your first and last. He genuinely thought he was going crazy, not experiencing a human emotion.

“Gonna fill you up with little princesses and princes so you gotta stick around and we’ll make a whole kingdom for ourselves.” he stated, wanting to make sure no one could mistake you as anything but his.

Your “yeah” makes his heart burst. You soft, sweet voice saying just what he wants makes him snap, hips relentless as he fucks you, unable to think beyond anything except fucking a baby, or two, into you. Wanting to see you so big and needy.

His heads in a whole nother world, the urge to fuck you, make you his own, the only thing not draining him. He trails finger down to your clit, rubbing it energetically. Listening to your sobs, edging him to not stop.

“Please” you voiced out, choking on your words. Being so close, yet so far. Him not letting you orgasm until he wanted you to. His selfish desires making you kick your legs out in complaint.

Feeling his cock pulsing inside you, finally moving his fingers on your clit again; blessing the gods that he at last let you cum, your body shaking as he slid his length deeper into you. You let out a cry, clinging onto him. His shoulders being placed into your arms as you didnt let him go, chest rising and falling dramatically.

“Fuck!,” he grunted. You nails digging into his skin, leaving little crescents there. Dropping into your neck as he finally feels sedated, cum shooting hot and thick into you. Holding you as you did him, your eyes already staring to close.

“You take everything so good, princess. so slutty,” he says, affectionate as he can be, looking at the mess you were making. His newfound love for you pouring out with every touch he laid on you. Not pulling out of you as he picked you up to get the dirty sheets off the bed, your head falling back his arms, eyes burning to close, lips slightly open.

“My love...” he murmured, now laying his body on yours, skin to skin. His face in your chest, your hands grabbing onto his fluffy hair. “You’re such a sweet girl… a pretty little thing.” he whispered, knowing you loved when the words left his mouth.

You murmured back, wanting the words ‘I love you'' to come out so desperately. Hiccupping as he adjusted himself in you. Leaving light kisses on your chest, clenching at the sensation, hating being so sensitive.

As he trails his hand down your chest to the pendant necklace laying in between your breasts, the first gift he ever got you.

He noticed you never took it off, just this one, not the countess rings, headpieces and other necklaces he bought you. He knew that you very much appreciated those, but this one was special to you, even keeping it on whenever you had to put on other jewelry whenever he had events, tucking it in the chest part of your corset.

You coddled him, his real personality coming back, where he acted like a needy baby, loving how you held him in your arms. Feeling like home along with his mellow smell, the scent of burnt amber mixed with the comfy smell of fresh linen making you melt into his touch everytime he pulled you closer.

He didn't want to admit how attached to you he was. Your warm smile, soft body, always knowing how to take care of him and make him feel warm and cozy, his personal stress reliever. Swearing he saw a halo around you head when you woke him up every morning, the light shining through the windows providing another testament.

“Were you serious?” you said, voice course and shaky. Wanting to hear the words you wanted the most.

“I'm the future king, they can't go against my orders.” He said reading your mind again, understanding how stressful it must be in your position. “Besides you already are in the eye of the people.” he huffed out, rubbing your stomach with his warm hands.

You saw a smile appear on his face before he disconnected himself from you, disregarding the warmth leaving your body.

“P-prince Astumu! You can't!” you uttered trying to take it off as fast as you could, hands scrambling. “Shh, see?” he said, turning your head to the mirror. “Look at how well it fits you.” he continued. You thinking his mind was clouded right now. Your naked form covered by the sheets the sheets. Your being a mess, along with your eyes looking red and swollen.The crown being the only thing presentable, sitting upon your fucked out head.

“fuck, you’re so pretty...” he said, giving you a longing kiss on the forehead, taking his time separating from you.

“W-what are we?”you said finally placing the crown back on the dresser.

“What do you want us to be?” he said, letting out a laugh, trying not to be so serious as he's never felt this way before. Being nervous for the first time since he was a kid.

“I'm serious.” you said pulling away from him. His shocked attitude working the fastest he's ever done in his whole career. His face expressing his need

“Ok...” pulling you back to him, the thought of you leaving making him want to crumble. ‘I need you.”

“And?…i'm not the only one you need.” you said trying to push him, his immature side coming in at the worst times.

“Fuck, okay my love, i promise you, you or I won’t be going anywhere, okay? I swear on god's green earth and everything I own.” suffocating you in his arms so you couldn't leave, pressing his lips against your head speaking every word that came into his mind.

Before you moved your head looking at him in the eyes, the blanket pulled up over the both of you, the roses wilted all over the floor. Your stare halting his thoughts, your eyes telling him to spill every secret that he held against you, wanting to know his very thought about you.

His eyes met yours, not being able to look away. A sigh left his lips as a blush grew on his face, you being the first person to leave him like this. At last he regained his composure, his messy haired, scratched up self speaking. “If you'd just let me explain.”

[starshipsofstarlord]

The Eyes Are Lined

Summary: whilst on the last days of set of filming the show where he plays Tommy Lee, Sebastian is greeted with a surprise guest in his trailer, and he is certainly not going to be one to complain whence he’s gets a treat as sweet as you

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, mentions of phone sex, oral sex (male + female receiving), unprotected sex, penetrative sex, p in v, degradation, spanking, daddy kink, teasing, fingering, pet names

Word Count: 4133

Masterlist Link

It fell from his lips as a relieved sigh, it had felt like forever since he had last seen you, and as he took in your form coiled in a baggy sweatshirt of his and hopefully nothing more, he was fast to close and lock the door behind himself. His tongue darted out to swipe the upon the underbite of his lip as he stepped slowly forwards in his adjourned flip flops, the wide shorts hanging off his legs. For this role he had very much diversified his appearance; lost weight, changed his hair, worn temporary tattoos - yet from the prowess that resonated through your eyes, nothing in the way of your attraction had changed.

“Sebba.” You greeted him with a wide smile, dismissing your phone that had been in your hand to the side of the couch, and crawling off the seat that you had taken up residence in. Instantly, your arms wrapped around his sleek torso, taking in the aroma of his deodorant that obliterated the senses through your nostrils. He pulled your face up with the grip of his heavy palm against your courteous cheek, as his breath fanned against the platter of your forehead.

“You’re here early, shooting doesn’t finish for another three days.” He stated, the grin that was tugging at his features clearly showing that he was anything but disappointed by your unspoken arrival. Tucking your arms to land around his waist like a belt that was enclosing him against you, you happily sighed, stroking your nose against the expanse of his bare chest that was beholden before you through the open curtains of his plain black hoodie. For a moment your eyes flickered down to the fake piercings that were strung like light fixtures from his nipples, watching as the silver metal beamed in contrast to the bulb that was fixed into the ceiling.

“I wanted to surprise you, it feels like forever since we were that close.” Was your confessing admission, as you pressed a warm kiss upon his revealed flesh, causing him to hum in acknowledgement of the amorous act. “Though I’m happy that god awful shadow is gone from your chin, if you want hair there then I suggest that you grow your beard back out.” You stroked your thumb over the crescent of his chin, running the pad through the indent as he inwardly cocked his brow, stiffening his jaw at your straight opinion.

“What’d you think of everything else? Be honest now darling.” He clicked his tongue, staring down at you with his smokily framed eyes, as you coiled back into your shoulders so that you could get a better overall viewpoint of him, as your hands descended to cupping the inward joints of his elbows. You balanced your weight on both of your feet, juggling between them to remain sturdy as you felt the mood in the trailer punctually shift, as though you were crossing through the mysterious channel that inhabited the Bermuda Triangle.

“Hmmm, well I’m rocking for the eyeliner, it really makes your eyes stand out more than they already do. And you know I’ve always been an absolute sucker for the longer hair, but I’m a sucker for you in general.” At that suggestive statement, you casted a sultry wink at him, hoping that he caught onto the act rather than thinking you had something entrapped in the perimeter of your eye. It was not dust that had clogged upon your pupil, instead it were lust, gripping onto the very image of him. It had been months, long ones at that since the pair of you had seen each other.

All the intimacy that your relationship confined in its long distance was dealt with over the phone, never once did the space that his work divulged the two of you apart make you feel lonely, he tried his utmost to ensure that you were comfortable even with miles for what seemed like an eternity separating you. The cellular contact that immersed your spare time furloughed for both late night calls that brought an innocent lovesick smile to resort upon the spectating image of your face that was reflected through the front camera of your phone, and sexual conducts that travelled across the countries that you were both in to bring you closer and alternatively higher together, in a blissful reunion that swamped your head with hyperactive hormones that followed after your mutual orgasms.

“Naughty.” He condoned you for your filthy innuendo, his hand cascading down the artwork of your body, and moving behind you, so that his fingertips were dancing upon the crown of your exempt ass cheek. “Guess all that time away has gotten you desperate for me, huh? Do you want to some sucking up to me? I’ve had a pretty hard day, and it would help me relieve a bunch of the stress that depends on these last few days. Not to mention I am so pent up from not seeing you all this time, it was practically torture honey bee, I’m not even sure how I survived.”

Dragging his head down to meet with your own, you pressed luscious and. Extended pecks onto his thin lips,having missed them covering every inch o your skin with the love that swelled in his chest and other places for you. “I don’t even know if you’ll last that long Bas, its been a certain while of you solely using your hand.” A giggle reaped from your throat as your hearing absorbed the gasp that slithered out of his mouth; he playfully pushed down upon the line of your shoulders, only enhancing your amusement by doing so. “So pushy.”

“That is right, and I will only get rougher with you the longer that it takes you to get down on your knees for me, so I would think logically. After all, after I completely wrap on this show, I’m going to have all the spare one in the world to put you in your little place and stop you from being a disobedient little brat.” It was a promise, he was threatening you in the most sexual way possible, and you’d be lying if you were to say that some aroused nectar hadn’t gathered in the passage that divided your highs down the middle. You gulped, intimacy written in every speck of your irises as you lowered yourself to be poised on your thighs, your face near the tent forming at his crotch.

The material of his shorts gathered with creases as his cock grew beneath the baggy subject that defined his legs that much more. A hand ravelled through your locks as you found yourself darting your tongue out to caress his legs, moving your muscle upwards as your hands teased the waistband of the barrier that prevented you from seeing all of him. “How much have you missed me baby, let daddy know.” Lightly, he begs to roll his hips forwards, pressing his erection teasingly against your face, and you were loving every second of it. His balls were pressing against your chin on every mimic forwards, and as you tried to speak, your voice was a tiny bit muffled by them.

“So much Sebby, I hated being apart from you.” You thought that would be a good enough answer, but as his fingers threaded further through your hair, a quiet yelp ejected from your throat as he strayed you head to be leant upwards so that you were gazing into his domineering eyes. That was when you realised that you must have made a mistake, but no matter what it was, it was much too late to take it back. Sexual fear paved through your gaze as you poured, wanting nothing to get back to your journey of duty which was to suck his cock, however, you could not continue if Sebastian had other things, such as whatever you had done so wrongly plaguing his mind.

“Bitch no cause why did you pronounce my name wrong? It begins with your favourite letter; a D, remember? And now I’m not even sure that you deserve my D. Right now I am not your Sebastian, what am I little girl?” He growled down at you, his toes rigidly curling in the open toed shoes that he were sporting, his hand remaining tangled in your hair.

“Daddy.” You tried not to sob out of dismissal, and instead expedited for apologising to refrain from angering him any further. “I’m so sorry daddy, I’ll do anything. Anything to make it up to you, please, I’ll never make that mistake again.” Unless it was not in this scenario of course, the pebbles of your tears brought a vivid richness and innocence upon your face, as though you were pooling diamonds out of the windows of your explicit soul. And I’m return, you were met with the gift of Seb shoving his shorts to be draped over his feet, his cock playing the curve of a sail as it stiffened more so at the air that hit it.

“Are you wearing anything underneath that sweatshirt baby?” He enquired as his right hand held his length in hand, enclosing his fist around the warm flesh that was beading with visible emotion at the tip. It was as though a pearl was balancing on the sector of his slit, teasing you as you dryly licked your lips, wanting nothing more than to ingest that into your body. To answer his question, your hands toyed with the bottom of his clothing article, pulling it up so that he could see your bare abdomen, of which was dressed in nothing more than your flawless skin.

“No daddy, I’m not. Am I in more trouble for that?” You worried that you were, all that you had wanted to do was surprise him, and you felt yourself grow a little giddy as he slowly shook his head, and pull back the coat of his foreskin to flash off as much of his cock as possible. He was teasing you to the slyest of his abilities, he wanted to subject you into doing something against your better judgement, and you remained strong, no matter how much you wanted to coil your lips around the head of his member and take him as far as the hollow of your throat would naturally allow.

“No baby, imma let you off the hook for that because I haven’t seen you in so long and I know that pretty little cunt has missed me probably more than the rest of you, but don’t test me again angel, or on the plane home you’re gonna have to sit on a bag of ice.” A part of you wanted to smirk, to coyly piss him off to see if that perseverance were to be true, however if you knew Sebastian, and you knew him more than well, you wouldn’t put anything past him nor his motives. “Go on, I can see you practically drooling to take me in your mouth. Don’t tease or I’ll fuck your face; be a good girl would ya.”

You weren’t going to waste anymore time, for all that you aware, any one of the set assistants could take him away from you, and that possibility only fuelled your instincts further as you hovered your head away from his hand, that was now patting and gently playing with your locks instead of using them as a leash, and flickered your tongue out to swipe that sample of precum and swallow it without hesitation. Before your mind could comprehend it, your body had already taken the next steps forwards and started to swallow down his member, your lashes fluttering closed as you hummed, sending a rhythm through Sebastian’s body of which made him cuss.

He was looking through half lidded eyes, almost shutting them, though stopping from doing so when he noticed your hand creep down the smooth skin of your thigh, and pry at your own folds. He was going to reprimand you for being so confident that you weren’t going to get caught doing something that was so ludicrous, but he decided that he were to allow you to continue for a moment. If he made a scene after revelling in his own pleasure, then you would be more compliant with whichever punishment that he nailed you down with. The tips of your digits quivered around your lips, before sinking within your walls and the rest of your palm cupped your pussy.

It made more sense now you were moaning against him, for not only the taste of him that hung heavily on your tongue, but from the slip of power that you thought you had over him, even if it be cloaked in secrecy. As he thought more of that, he found himself starting to fume with an underlining of rage, his fists stiffened at his sides as he exhaled through a combination of the sensations rippling beneath his skin. It was a combination of brewing disappointment and foreseen arousal; his veins burned with both, turning his blood warm and drumming his brain with one thing - it were his birthright to make you submit before him.

And though you were positioned in front of him, cast to your knees as you worked on his hard cock with your heavenly mouth, your mind had slithered away from the laws that you were supposed to obey as you fingered yourself against and without his jurisdiction. To retain from speaking out just yet Seb put the pressure of his front teeth down upon his bottom lip, as he tuned his ears on the sounds of your mouth i taking his cock and slathering it with the natural lubricant of your saliva, and if he paid enough attention, the sound of your nimble fingers darting in and out of your entrance was echoed through the slick that was provided from your hormonal body, that coated your fingers and glistened underneath the lighting.

As he felt a spark approaching through the intermissions of his pleasured body, he found it to be best to direct you away, and exhibit distance despite having forgone with that flow for the time space that you hadn’t seen each other in. And thus he gently stepped back, allowing his cock to fall past your lips and a string of spit to be the only thing connecting you to it. It was an instinct for you to whine as you watched him take his cock back into his hand, giving himself a couple of easing tugs to cool himself down from his ruined orgasm.

And that was when all prevailed in realisation for you, that he continued to ogle at you from above as your index and middle fingers on your right hand remained inside of your cunt, and as your mind sparked some sense back into it, you instantly removed them despite the emptiness that attained within that area. Your eyes remained wide as you watched with caution as Seb took it upon himself to take a seat on the sofa that was below the blind strung window of his trailer, his hand temptingly patting his thick thighs as a means to convince you to move closer.

“Get up here you deviant minx.” It was not a sweet gesture that he were offering you, no, instead you were getting punished despite evading such a fate earlier on. Pushing yourself up from your knees, you went to lay yourself against him homely lap, however as you went to do so, he tugged at the sweatshirt that compiled a flush of heat against your addictive body, pulling it up a few inches to send you the message. Once you had completely removed the appeared and were dressed to the eye in nothing more than your naked flesh, that was when Sebastian allowed you to continue laying your stomach across his legs, as your own legs and breasts were draped either side of them.

His rough fingertips caressed the muscles of your back, making them twitch from rugged anticipation. They descended lower as he dug his knee into your ribs, enjoying the way that your breath hitched. “You know the rules angel, you don’t touch without permission, and yet you did. Do you have anything to say for yourself before I bruise this beautiful ass red and blue?” The worst thing was you could imagine how your cheeks would look all bruised up from the harsh strokes from his commanding hands; it had happened before and each and every time you’d tell yourself that it’d never happen again, that you’d avoid such intimate brutality because you’d behave.

But you both knew better than to trust those empty promises that wailed from your desperate throat as you were subjected to a pain that made your mind hazy and your throat parched. “No daddy, just that I’m sorry.” A yelp quickly followed after as he collided his hand down upon the fat of your behind, your entire body jolting as you shakily inhaled, knowing that in a few minutes that you’d get used to the pain and find it less surprising. The first strike was always the worst, and as another clapped down, followed by more and more, tears reigned the paving of your face as they spilt down your cheeks.

Your apology was simply a waver in the air, it did nothing other than tell him something that he’d heard a million times by this point. And when nothing added to the soreness of your bosom, you swore that you were in heaven, it continued to sting though as relief washed over your aura, and your lashes flickered through the fallen tears, slowly drying from the sobbing that they had commenced. “You took that well, okay.” Seb breathed, beginning to softly stroke your ass which made you whimper from the feather light pressure that digressed against the impact he had prohibited you to dwindle in. “I’m gonna reward you, think you can turn over baby?”

He slipped out from beneath you, allowing you to remain on your stomach for the moment until you had finally came up with your decision. You wriggled a little, stretching your toes as you hummed in reply and switched, despite the searing conundrum that resorted favour over your backside, onto the polar of your position, only to find your lover of whom was in control crawling towards you, the rings around his eyes looking sinful as he stared at your naked body as though you were his prey. His hands began to reel up your legs, coercing you into squirming against the cushioning that was managing to keep you at the same physical level as him, though the same couldn’t be said for the mental premise that rendered in interference of your relationship.

Hot air brushed upon your mound as he pressed a kiss to the hill that lead to the lake that was fawning at his close proximity, waves crashing and glistening to appeal to his ocean eyes. “Daddy, can you please do something?” A grunt differed from his throat as he inhaled the sea salt that subordinated his nose to the all natural scent, all before he nipped at the inside of your thigh before delving his face between the tightened proximity, sealing his mouth around your sensitive bud as he mumbled moans against your reactive flesh, earning himself a deeper invasion as you rutted your hips up to his face.

Sebastian Stan was a man of many talents; he could clearly mimic anyone that a script needed him to, but the one thing that he was truly magical at was using his mouth. It was a skill set that made you mercilessly comply to him, it was his superpower, which was indeed ironic considering that he played a hero in one of the world’s biggest franchises known to cinema. He raised his hands to grasp at your own as he trailed them into his strongly pigmented hair, giving you permission to ravel your hands through his straight hair, and feel the smooth sheen against the judge of your skin. You liked it, as you knew that you would.

Using his tongue, he pried at your entrance, sinking it within you as he began to shake his unruly head, extracting small screams from your throat as you became victim to his plentiful evidence of love. Your chest raised out in the air as your eyes rolled back, and a tweak pulled at your clit once more, and looking down, it revealed that it were your beloved tugging at the button with his teeth, as he gouged your reaction. When you reached your orgasm, he dived head first back into your emptying cavern, cleansing all that he had subdued from your body via his amazingly versed and performed sentiment.

“Taste so fucking good baby.” To prove his point, he clambered above you, slipping his lips against your own as he swabbed your tongue with his own, sharing your own juices so that you could feel them balance on your taste buds. His hand ran down your body as he pinched your hardened nipples, earning himself a withered and high pitched sigh from your mouth as he pulled away from the kiss. “Think you for another one in you angel? Daddy wants to fuck this sweet pussy, you okay with that?” A dazed nod gave him permission, though he grasped your jaw with his strong hand as he ensured that you stared back at him. “I need to hear you.”

“Yes, want your cock in me daddy. Always do.” A content smile used your mouth as it’s efficient puppet as he held onto his cock, and teased it around your folds, wetting his foreskin and other areas to make it more pleasurable for the both of you when he went to push in. And when he did, you felt like you had died and gone to heaven, it made you wonder how you ever survived going months without his touch, in any which way. Your hands held onto his hips as you steadied his weight, silently giving him the okay to start moving, and he did, he sunk within your cavernous walls, only to pull back and repeat the action. “Seb.” You breathed the shortened version of his name, the hot air leaving your mouth hitting his shoulder as he panted beside your face, his nose dragging up your cheek as you ran your hand down, cupping his balls and stroking them with the tender contact of your thumb.

For once under these circumstances, he did not shun you for saying his true name, instead he was too busy with the maddening rush that flew through his body as he fornicated with you. His pace increased, provoking the sound of flesh slapping upon flesh in the air as your thighs and hips clashed, amongst other parts. “Fuck sugar, ya close?” He asked you hurriedly, his forehead scrunching up as he felt immense pleasure as your cunt clenched around him, using his leverage to play with your clit once more. You ravenously nodded your head, dragging your nails over his body as you tried to jut your body up against his, chasing the approaching high which ultimately had you slumping against the cushions as he continued to pummel your body with his delivering thrusts.

“Shit.” He almost shouted, a soothing buzz ongoing in his body as he released his seed within you, you being able to feel every drop even after he pulled out and rolled to lay beside you, tugging you to be laying on his chest, neither of you caring for the cum that was escaping from your entrance that also happened to be the exit. “Why you laughing at me angel face?” Sebastian queried as he heard your cheeky sounds of amusement, a grin ruining the formation of his rocker disguise.

“You’re eyeliner’s all smudged.” You laughed, running the pad of your thumb beneath his eye and in the crows feet that dipped below, blending it further into his skin and giving it a grey hue to its ebony gradient. “You still look hot though.” You shrugged, nestling your head deeper into his chest, finally relieved that you and Sebastian were in the same place at the same time again.

[anniebrainrots]

Family

In which you reflect upon yours and Technoblade’s shared past. 

=============

warnings: mentions of violence (nothing too graphic), slight gore, angst, SBI family dynamic, no y/n 

wc: 3.2k 

notes: i’m sorry if there are any grammatical errors, i really tried my best :,) 

===========

You can’t remember a time when you and Technoblade actually fought. You had always been attached at the hip, you had watched him grow up from a young boy full of ambition and fire to an accomplished man with strong ideals and a fierce personality. That’s one of the things that you had prided yourself in, well, that and your impeccable ability to calm the pink-haired piglin. 

You remember the first time the voices had appeared; he had come to you after he had gone hunting with Phil for the first time. He had mentioned his first kill, how it had awoken something in him, how it almost felt like he had been running on autopilot when he shot the arrow. You hadn’t known how to talk to him through his episodes then, though with years you had learned what to say to not set him off. 

The first time he had killed a man hadn’t been that long after his first hunt. A bandit had come to your small camp in the forest in the middle of the night. You couldn’t have been older than twelve at the time, Techno being thirteen. You had been held at knifepoint, held in front of Phil and Wilbur while the hybrid had gone out to get more firewood when your campfire dwindled. You remember seeing horror cross the two faces in front of you before the grip on your neck had loosened and a man had dropped right to the floor. You had tried your best to erase traces of that night from your memory, but the thin scar on your neck always made a point to remind you of it. 

He had changed since then, an insatiable thirst for bloodlust had festered deep within him, unable to be satisfied. He hadn’t been too good at controlling the voices at that time, and the first time he had lost control in your presence he couldn’t bear to look at you for a week out of shame. It had taken the help of Phil, Wilbur, and even Tommy to talk him out of separating himself from you. After that, your bond with him had only grown stronger. When you had left the family to pursue your own adventure with Techno, you had learned how to talk to him, to ease the voices that always screamed at him. 

The second time he had lost control around you it hadn’t been directed at you. The both of you had entered a tournament for money, and the result had been devastating for you. Techno had gotten his long hair cut short while your wings had ended up getting chopped off. It had been a foul play, ambushed from the back while you had fought another in front of you. Techno had seen nothing but red, finishing off both people before consoling you the best he could. You had mourned the loss of your flight and your precious wings for weeks, not eating and barely alive, according to Techno. He had half the mind to send you back to Phil, doubting his abilities to protect you but you had insisted to stay with him, that you would simply be too ashamed to look your father in the eyes and tell him why your wings had no longer been on your back. 

Years later, even though you still held the loss of your wings close to your heart, you had learned to move on with the help of your companion, finding solace in causing chaos and taking down unjust governments. Naturally, when Wilbur and Tommy had called upon you both to help them with their revolution against a tyrant who had taken charge of their old country, you had been more than happy to come. 

The first few weeks had been spent catching up with your brothers, and you had exchanges of your adventures and their experiences running their country. You couldn’t help but notice darkness festering deep within Wilbur’s eyes, and one night he broke, asking Tommy if they had been the bad guys all along. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell them you had followed them that night, eavesdropping on their conversation. You had confided in Technoblade, the piglin merely dismissing your concerns for your brother as he urged you to start preparing for the war. You had tried to ignore it, the way Wilbur’s tongue dripped with acid every time he had spoken of L’manburg, the way Tommy had flinched when Wilbur would walk into the same room, the way Wilbur constantly disappeared in the dead of the night when he had thought no one was watching. But you had been, you had always been watching him. 

The day he hid behind Dream, the man that had nearly killed Tommy twice in their war against the Dream SMP, you had nearly taken it upon yourself to incapacitate Wilbur. Technoblade, as war-hungry as he always had been, paid no attention to this, which had angered you greatly. Once you had learned of Wilbur’s planting of hundreds of TNT underneath L’manburg, you had tried to talk him out of it. 

“L’manburg is a fallen nation, birdie. It’s done nothing but cause pain for everyone, so why does it have to exist? You wouldn’t understand, you weren’t there when we built it, so stay out of our fucking business or leave.” The nickname that Wilbur had given you in your youth sounded like nothing but pure venom and ice, and his words had stung you far more than anything else. 

That night, you had approached Technoblade; you couldn’t help but notice how you had been falling apart due to how busy he had become with his preparations.  It had been obvious to you how stressed he was, spacing out more frequently while you had conversed. When you brought up your concern over Wilbur’s plans, he lashed out. 

“God, you’re so annoyin’, always havin’ concern over what Wilbur wants to do or not. The man ran the country way before we even got here so why do you care so much?” 

“I’m worried because everyone’s life is on the line here, Techno. You’re telling me you’d let your brothers fight in a war that will end up in explosions? What about Tommy, you’re gonna let him go through with this? Why can’t you see that Wilbur’s gone crazy, and he needs to be stopped?” 

“I can’t let you do that. No matter what you want, I promised to help Wilbur and if you don’t agree with his ideals, then just leave. We don’t want you here.” For the second time that night alone, you had been told to leave by some of the most important people in your lives. You choked back the rising sob in your throat, letting your sadness dissipate and anger take over. You had marched right out of his base, not a single call of your name from the man you had just spoken with, and you had concluded that that would be the last time you would talk to him. 

You had gone deep into the forest into your small cottage, taking all of your valuables and putting them in your ender chest, stuffing food and all of your weapons into your bags where they had fit. You had taken a few pieces of TNT, no one needed the rest of these items anyways. You had been deep enough in the forest that the explosion would not be heard from anywhere near PogTopia, so you had quickly ignited the TNT and watched as your house exploded onto tiny remnants. A small crater had been left in its place, small enough to pass off as a creeper explosion in the night. 

Your second stop had been to Tommy’s quarters, where you had found him sitting by his bed. 

He had looked up at you in slight confusion, noting your packed bags and outdoor attire. He had wondered if you were going to go scouting in L’manburg and almost wanted to ask if he could come, but you had cut him off before he could. 

You handed him a sword, the first one you had ever made with your own hands when you were barely his age. 

“What’s this for? And why are you dressed like that?” 

You gave him a watery smile, “this sword helped me survive all this time, so I hope it serves you well in the war. And I can’t fight alongside you anymore, Tommy. Technoblade and Wilbur had made that very clear tonight.” 

“What? Wilbur? I’ll go speak to him right now if he’s makin’ you leave. You can’t leave, you just can’t!” Tommy stood to his full height, arms wrapping themselves around your smaller form. You patted his back, offering words of comfort. 

That night, you had left with a heavy heart, and despite your rather unpleasant last experiences with Will and Techno, you couldn’t help but to think of them fondly from time to time. 

That led to where you are now, in the Tundra, in a humble cottage in the middle of a clearing. There’s a village nearby, with wonderful farmers offering you discounted golden carrots for all the help you provided for them in the past 6 months. 

You never did find out the outcome of that war, and something tells you that it didn’t end in celebrations. You traveled far enough that even news from L’manburg would be unlikely to reach all the way here. Still, though, you can’t help but wonder where Technoblade is, if he’s been taking care of himself, if he’s even still alive. You snort at that, of course he’s still alive; Technoblade never dies. 

One day, you wake up with a slightly more cheery attitude than most other mornings. You prance around your house, humming songs to yourself while you clean and cook. It’s quiet, like it always is, and sometimes you find yourself wishing you’re back to the old days, when everything was loud, chaotic, and bloody. The silence, however, is a luxury you never knew you needed. 

Your black cape and golden crown (one that Techno gave you in order to match with him), hangs in your closet, unused. 

You make sure to polish the crown once a week, it being a gift from a man you harbored feelings for since your youth, you couldn’t bear to leave it to collect dust. You sigh wistfully, placing the newly polished crown on your head while looking at your reflection in the mirror. 

You can’t help but notice the way your features have softened, given your lifestyle with Techno over the years, you were almost never given a break from all of the bloodshed. Your eyes are brighter, and your face gleamed with a newfound glow, one that had always been stained by dirt and grime from the battlefield. You note faint scars running down your arms, a brief moment of insecurity passing through you as you remember the perfectly clean complexion the village women had. 

You’re cut off by your thoughts by a rapid and harsh knock on your front door, and you rush to take off the crown and place it back in your closet and head back downstairs. It’s odd, almost no one visits the Tundra, so the very idea that someone is knocking on your door is already incredibly bizarre. You figure it’s probably a wandering trader, a very impatient one sounding from the hurried knocks. 

You open the door roughly and step back slightly in shock. Phil stares back at you with equal emotion in his eyes, he obviously wasn’t expecting you to answer the door. Your gaze shifts to the man by his shoulders, hanging limply with his head down. 

“Help,” is all Phil’s able to say before you quickly wrap your arms around Techno’s midsection and lead him to lay down on your couch. Blood pools around his waist staining your cushions, but you can’t even acknowledge that. He’s passed out and pale, so you make quick work to tend to his injuries, finding him improperly wrapped in loose bandages. 

After cleaning his injuries, the worst of which being a stab wound on his midsection and a large gash on the arm, you wrap him with bandages and give him healing potions to speed up the recovery. With the help of your adopted father, you move Techno to your bed, closing the door before joining Phil on the floor near the fireplace. 

Phil watches you sit down next to him, eyeing your bloody hands before blinking away to stare at the flickering flame. He also notices your wings, or lack thereof, but chooses to stay silent. 

“What happened? Why is Techno like that?” 

He’s silent for a moment before answering, “after the big battle, they reclaimed L’manburg but reinstituted Tubbo as the new president. Techno didn’t like that, so he fought back. It was him against everyone else. After that he fled to escape but someone was able to shoot him down with an arrow and stab him. I knocked the guy out and tried to fix Techno, but I couldn’t do that with everyone chasing us down. So, I took him on a boat and ended up here. Gave him enough healing potions to not die, but I barely had enough. Thank god we found you.” 

You go quiet at that, a question annoying you at the back of your mind. 

“Did he do it?” From your tone, the man realizes you’re referring to Wilbur, and his heart clenches at the fresh memory. 

“He did. I barely got there in time, mate. I tried to talk him out of it but…” he trails off, shoving his face into his hands to hide his tears, “I killed him.” 

Your shoulders slump in sympathy, about to comfort him, “Phil, it’s not your faul—” 

“No. I literally killed him. When he pressed the button, he gave me his sword and…” this time he lets out a weak laugh, “did I do the right thing, birdie? Was I right to kill my own son?” 

You can’t wrap your head around that. “Wilbur’s dead?” 

Phil cries quietly to himself, nodding his head to affirm your thoughts, making you let out a small ‘oh’. 

You’re at a loss for words. Sure, Wilbur had been nothing but toxic to you the last time you had seen him, but that didn’t overshadow the years of love and affection he had given you in your childhood. Deep down, you knew the Wilbur you had seen last had been nothing but the shell of the person that gave you piggy back rides when you were learning to fly so you can experience being off your feet, of the person that bandaged your knee when you had tripped and had been too scared to tell Phil you had gotten hurt, of the person that sang you songs on his guitar whenever you felt restless at night because he knew they helped you sleep. Wilbur is—was—your brother. 

“He went crazy, Phil. Too clouded by his emotions to think straight. He endangered the lives of everyone around him. He wasn’t Wilbur anymore at that time, Phil. He was just a man that had lost everything, too scared to rebuild from scratch that he just destroyed his work so no one else could have it. It was like watching a child who lost their favorite toy. Jesus, Phil, if you’d seen him then…” You watch the crackling fire, words caught in your throat, unable to finish the sentence, silence lying heavily in the air. “He needed to be stopped.” 

The man you saw as your father goes quiet, and from the corner of your eyes you see just how this man aged. Despite being immortal, Phil always had what you called ‘sleepy eyes’ referring to the way he seems to constantly have bags underneath his eyes that made him look sleep deprived despite being well-rested; a trait that Wilbur inherited, and Techno had purely because of his lack of a proper sleep schedule. Tommy used to tease them about it, despite having developed it slightly after his staying up with you, Wilbur, and Techno in the dead of the night to sneak out when Philza was asleep. 

“Guess we’re both flightless now, huh?” You ask after a moment, studying his burned feathers that would surely never heal properly enough for him to take flight. He let out a humorless chuckle, dull eyes closing for a moment. 

“I tried to shield him from the explosion but it resulted in quite some irreversible damage.” He stretches his wings out, barely even a quarter of its original length, black feathers singed and unrecognizable. He gives you a glance from the side, “you never told me about yours.” 

You hum, and your back burns with phantom pain. “I lost them in an arena. A couple years after we left, Techno and I participated in this free-for-all arena and some guy ambushed me from behind and cut them off.” Your left hand grips your sleeve, images of red and withering feathers flashing before your eyes. You feel a gentle hand on your back, and all of it stops. 

You and Phil sit together in well-appreciated silence, basking in each other’s presence after so many years of no contact. A shuffle from the other room catches your attention, you turn and see Techno stepping out of the room, one hand supporting himself on the wall and the other wrapped around his midsection, tight against his fresh wound. You and him make eye contact for a split second before you turn away and he redirects his gaze to Phil. 

From the corner of your eyes you see them staring at each other, having what seems to be a silent conversation before the older man sighs and gets up. He pats you on the head once and gives Techno a nod before stepping outside. Uh oh. You know what’s coming next and you don’t know if you’re ready for it. You say nothing when you hear approaching footsteps from behind you, staring at the dwindling flame in the fireplace. You say nothing when he sits behind you on the couch, unable to sit on the floor because of his injuries. You say nothing when you turn around from your sitting position on the floor to look up at him. 

Despite only being apart for 6 months, Techno sure looks older. Maybe it had been the effects of war, but both you and him have gone through countless battles before and you had never seen his face like this. Grim, serious, unapproachable. Something in his eyes flicker when he stares at you; pity, remorse. 

“I’m sorry.” Techno says after a moment, looking guilty as his facade slowly breaks. 

You don’t know what to say. The Blood God, infamous for his unyielding wrath and immeasurable power, for his countless victories in war, for his presence made to induce fear upon people, bowing his head to you in remorse. Was this the same Blood God that you hear countless stories of? No, this is Techno. Your best friend, your partner in crime, your person. 

“I know.” 

[sepia-mahogany]

Platonic Hanahaki

The stories are just as widely known, of loving and losing, of yearning and forgetting, common in present time as they were years ago, of loving someone so deeply, without desire but not without passion, of kings and warriors, of lovers and brothers, of people not kin not lovers, growing in their lungs the flowers with thorns that cut deep, and drank away their blood without leaving any survivors.

Of course the tales are many, as tragic as they are, of how a man who killed his beloved for making him feel what he deemed unnecessary, his beloved who offered him a little white carnation, covered red in blood, but he held up his sword and cut through flesh, only to follow few days later in his grief.

Or of how a woman travelled across seas, in search of her soulmate, for the agony of her blood kept her comfort, for the heartbeat that echoed along with the garden she grew inside her lungs, because it meant her beloved was well, until one day, she coughed up a black rose and sank to her knees, disappearing from the world.

Of course, there were the ones who lived and got their happy ends, filled with their beloved ones caress or tears of guilt, and so was recorded, the flowers turning to dust and fading away, for their love had been acknowledged, so why the need for the reminder in their veins? Only marks appear on their skin, the place where they first made contact, sometimes the cheek, sometimes the hand, sometimes unseen under the clothes from when they rough-housed as kids.

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

Jiang Fengmian closed the book that he read, the pain blossoming sharp in his lungs, since that night when he sat, staring at the lotuses under the moonlight, his mind drifting to moments of the past, of longing of what once was, Lotus Pier once his home, felt more like a shackle around his wrists, yet this was his responsibility and he would bear the weight.

He thought to the day he waved away his dearest friend, the one by his side since they were young and grown into the men they were today, and as life went on, it was natural and it was expected, so Fengmian had not been forlorn but rather joyfully wished them well with sincerity and hoped they could visit some time in the future.

He was happy for Changze, for he had found his One, he’d seen the way he looked at her and she at him, he may have held affections for one of them but his love for their friendship outweighed it, and he would be content if they were healthy and successful in the path they chose, but even he knew with their own busy lives, it would be difficult to meet for a long time, so he bid them farewell and cherished their memories.

He didn’t feel as disappointed over his marriage as he originally did, it might have been arranged because of Meishan Yu Sect’s pressuring and his mother’s continuous desire for wanting one of theirs to be his bride, ‘to be the stern hand to his mellowness’ she had said, and what kind of a filial son would he be if he broke the betrothal off now?

And it was not as if he knew the Third Lady of Meishan Yu personally, seeing his brother-in arm’s relationship, his heart could not help but swell with hope, perhaps they could come to understand one another? He looked at his flowers, the ones he had grown with them, and the purple lotuses blooming near the entrance and thought, would she notice how the the colour reflected her eyes? Maybe a boat ride would help? Making future plans with anticipation, he felt a smile blooming on his face.

The day of the wedding came and went, except the chambers of the first night of the married couple remained empty, for his wife had requested for separate quarters in the privacy of their room, he agreed, perhaps she was nervous? Knowing each other better was better than consummation with a stranger, he nodded to himself, he should probably help make her comfortable as her husband.

He approached her room after he finished dressing and knocked lightly, and hesitantly called out “Third-lady?” The door opened, by one of the two girl’s Yu Ziyuan had brought over, and he saw his heart skip a beat when he saw her sitting clothed in Yunmeng Jiang’s purple, her violet eyes staring at him, her lips pursed in a line.

“What is it?” she asked, annoyance clear by her expression, he hesitated yet again, perhaps he had come too early? Yesterday had been a busy banquet. “Would you like to come to the pavilion with me today?” her eyes narrowed and he thought he saw a brief anger flash on her face, was she misunderstanding his intentions?? “The flowers are quite beautiful and the weather is quite good today, tea outside seems a calming time, doesn’t it?” he added, trying to make sure his tone did not seem too hurried, except she became even more angry.

Just when he expected her to refuse, she nodded curtly, “What time?” He let out a breath he did not even realise that he was holding, “Whatever seems comfortable.” He smiled at her gently, her eyes roamed over his face once again before she looked away, knowing full well she meant for him to leave, he got up.

He was happy throughout the day and it must have shown on his face, because his right-hand man told him to leave the Sect work to him for today and ‘just go Sect Leader!”, he had prepared the afternoon snacks himself, the place polished and ready for a wonderful evening, despite that, he still could not help but anxiously look over everything as he waited for her arrival, and she arrived, wearing the same robes as she was in the morning.

He got up to extend her seat. “Good Evening, Third-Lady” She had been looking around the garden since she had entered, he thought it out of appreciation, since these were the flowers they cultivated for years, until her eyes landed on him, which held the same anger as they did earlier in the morning. He served her the tea which she held tightly in her hands, and he found himself worrying, “Is something wrong?”

He expected her to say that the tea was not up to her taste at best, he expected her to criticise the garden’s decor at worse, what he had not expected were the words that left her mouth. “So this is the garden you cultivated with that woman? And you dared to bring me, your wife, here on the first day after our marriage?” She hissed, her words crisp and cutting, he felt confusion, followed by horrified upon realisation of the implications. 

“Third-Lady! What are you saying??”

“What am I saying?! Do you deny it? Do you take me for a fool? You married me once you were rejected by her, everyone knows that and you think that I will sit here calmly while being disrespected!? What do you take me for??” She yelled at him, slamming the cup down, he was truly shocked and frozen in his spot looking at her in bewilderment, had that really been what everyone was saying?

However, she took his shocked silence for agreement and got up to leave, “Third-Lady wait! It isn’t as you think, at all! Let me explain, we were friends and nothing else” He saw her pause, her back towards him so he hurried to explain.

“Changze brought her over once, to show her the garden we had cultivated since we were kids.” He paused to take a breath, “The only thing that was planted upon her suggestion were the purple lotuses-” He saw her head tilt as she looked the flowers, with a hopeful heart he thought, ‘maybe..?’ But before he could finish, Yu Ziyuan had turned around, a sneer upon her lips as she trampled upon the flowers next to her.

‘...to be the first thing you see, when you enter the garden.’

She left him staring at the trampled flowers, the tea cup tipped all over the table from when she smashed it in anger, and he sat there, processing what had happened, until a disciple knocked at the door, “Sect Leader?” The disciple peeked inside to catch his eye and stammered, “The meeting is about to begin, some urgent things came up and-” he smiled and replied “Of course, I’ll be on my way.” He sent the disciple off, grabbed a few napkins to clean up the table, and picked up the trampled flowers from the ground.

The days that followed went on without much words spoken between them, he did not dare to make the first move, because if she could misunderstand him in ways to such high extents, he was not sure what she would think if her sent over gifts, even if the thought of sending some crossed his mind, her scowling face and the violet of her eyes reminded him of that day, leading him to stay away.

He entered the garden, as months went by, the flowers that were once blooming wilted, just like everything in life had its end, some more sooner than the others, some caused by another, he thought as his eyes lingered on the place where once the purple lotus flowers stood. 

--------

“She’ll love them!” Cangse Sanren had said with that confident smile of hers, giving him thumbs up with both hands covered in dirt from where she planted her side of the lotuses with Changze, who nodded as well when he looked at him. “The ones on the right are from us, the ones to left were planted by her were own future-husband.” She grinned as he could feel flush creeping up his cheeks, he cleared his throat accompanied by Changze’s fond sigh. 

“She’ll probably melt, Sect Leader Jiang, down on his hands and knees in dirt, planting flowers in her-” Jiang Fengmian cut her off “Okay, enough! Enough!” he muttered, wiping his hands clean and looking at Changze, who only looked the other way as his wife cackled, the traitor. “Besides I plant flowers anyway, so does Changze, it’s not anything special like that.” He said defensively, Cangse Sanren had the audacity to roll her eyes, at Sect Leader, and his own home at that. “Sureee, Fengmian, sure.” 

---------

When he began to plant new fresh seeds, it took him much longer without Changze doing the other half, now, the thought of even considering Yu Ziyuan to plant the other half seemed laughable, he had been wrong in thinking they could come to understand one another, but now what was done was done, he could not exactly with separate her just within a few months of marriage, so he took a deep breath and decided upon a peace offering.

She was the Violet Spider, with a harsh temper and equally cutting words, what would be a gift that would be to her liking? He did not need to ponder over it for long, because to his surprise, he was approached by her during the evening, when he was alone. “I want to handle the training of the disciples.” She stated more than asked, Jiang Fengmian hesitated, that was a mistake, “What? Don’t think I’m good enough to train Yunmeng Jiangs disciples? Not good enough as your-” he cut her off,

 “No! That’s not what I was thinking-” the original instructor had been hand picked and carried the legacy of his forefathers, how could he alter what was passed down for generations- “Did you speak over me!? Trying to silence me, are you? With how you married me as a substitute for her? Is that not it?? Is that why you’re so hesitant?? Or perhaps is it that I’m a woman and you’re scared-” what?? “My Lady! That’s not it at all! I-”

“Then prove it, or else it's not believable at all, what other reason would you have then, to think that I am somehow inferior in your mind?” Her words dripped with poison, her eyes locking onto him, eyes of a venomous spider, he raised up his hand to massage his forehead. “Its not that simple! The instructing handlers have been passed down through generations, I cannot just change it on a whim.”

And she leaned back, smug as if she had won the argument, “Then perhaps it is not I who is lacking.” He felt cold all over, the anger he felt giving him no warmth, insulting his friends, insulting him, and now his sect. “Third-Lady, please be careful of what you speak, careless words aren’t able to be taken back easily.” Her smile remained, “Who says these are careless words? I mean every one of them, your Sect teachings haven’t produced any excelling disciple for the past years, while other Sect’s flourish, give me the reigns and I’ll show you how its done.”

Not only accepting all her words as intentional, but also implying she could do better than the Jiang Sect’s teachings over hundreds of years, he realised more and more what sort of a person he had been tied down to, would it not be better to just end the marriage? He instead looked over her smug expression and took a deep breath, “Fine, but give me time.” She nodded and left at that, a means to an end, giving her the benefit of the doubt, he did not know at the time, would turn out to be one of his worst mistakes.

It took him months but he managed to get some disciples under Yu Ziyuan, but his concerns were not simply over the teachings, if Yu Ziyuan could act the way she did with him, well with disciples? So he supervised the training lessons, but again to his surprise, other than some curt words, she did not verbally attack them the way she had attacked him, so it wasn’t her behaviour in general, just with him.

Of course he had called over one of the disciples randomly, although nervous and stuttering, the boy had answered that the training was going quite well, and with no reports or complaints in the following months, he could not do anything but let the matter drop, with this however, the matter of their distance remained as it was.

Soon he found that she relocated the aides he had, he had been angry of course, and immediately gone to her. “Where did you send Li Feng and the rest? And with what authority, you have no right-” she cut him off slamming her hands on top of the table. “With authority as your wife!? Or have you forgotten who your wife is?? So what? Can’t I move around servants here??” the anger churned his insides more so than anything else. 

“Those people aren’t servants, Li Feng is my right-hand man, please refer to them respectfully.” He tried to speak as calmly as possible, she glared at him “As the Madam of this house, I can do however I want.” he pinched the bridge of his nose, looked at her, her violet eyes, and exhaled. “Every action I do is met with anger, scorn or contempt,” He began, voice devoid of previous anger, “Then perhaps we should part ways.” He finished and her expression changed.

Out went the anger from her glare, instead for the first time she looked at him with shock instead of rage, and it was the first time he heard her stutter. “F-Fengmian, you can’t…” He looked at her, much relaxed with his mind made up, “Third-Lady, we clearly aren’t meant to be, we are completely different.” He turned his back and made to leave, with his hand on the door handle, “How dare you do this to me?”

Still the same, he closed his eyes, “How dare you, when I work day and night to train your disciples, how dare you, when you agreed to marry me in the first place, if anything, it's all your fault these things happen!” She yelled and he turned to look at her in disbelief, she cried “Why did you marry me if you were going to abandon me later?? How dare you!” she grabbed the nearest object, a cup and threw it at him, but he caught it before it broke.

‘Your fault’ she said, how was it his fault with any of it?? With how she behaved- “Have I caused problems in your Sect?? Have I gone out of my way to harm your people? All I did was rearrange the schedule setting but you seem to think I have committed treason?!”

She looked at him with anger “Did you not approach me first on that day? I was fine in my own quarters but you had to approach me.” He did but it was for purpose of getting to know each other better!

“Then all I asked was to train your disciples, only to get your suspicion” She huffed angrily “Do you think think me blind? That I would not if you called them to check if I was abusing them?? What do you take me for exactly!?” She saw him staring wide-eyed and nodded “You don’t get to ask for separation when I’m one who has suffered, after I’ve worked so hard, you could make some efforts too, if you weren’t so obsessed with that woman, and hate me unreasonably for not being her, then perhaps you would know!” She left, slamming the door behind her.

Her words repeated over and over in his head, ‘your fault’, true he had approached her first that day...but..and again the thing with disciples, he felt guilt creeping up in his heart, he should have tried harder if she misunderstood him, he should have explained it better, in a few days he saw his aides once again under him, but instead of greeting him like they usually did, they looked at him as if a stranger. 

“Is everything alright?” He asked, Li Feng answered “Of course, Sect Leader.” He nodded, not noticing anything odd, except over the next month, he realised they were treating him distantly, he couldn’t share with them what was on his mind, nor any of his opinions, being met with “As Sect Leader wishes.” Was Yu Ziyuan right? Was he the one lacking in communication? But he never had Changze misunderstand him...

In his state, he did not notice rumours spreading about how Jiang Fengmian did not like Yu Ziyuan because he was ‘still in love with another woman’.

Most of time was spent busy with his work, not knowing how to face her again, days became months, he would sometimes reminisce over his past times, feeling guilt weighing him down and pain in his chest, there no reason for him to feel anything out of the ordinary, until one day, when he was sitting in his room while looking down at his garden, the flowers did not bloom, he thought, and he felt a wave of coldness wash over him

Thinking how the once lively Lotus Pier turned into a place of coldness for him, his wife refused to talk to him, his aides and friends looked at him with judgement in their eyes, and then the pain increased unnaturally, until he couldn’t help but take in deep breaths helping to no avail, and then he coughed.

He coughed and coughed until he could feel his lungs bleed and he tasted metal on his tongue, until he could feel thorns scratching his throat as he choked with panic overtaking him, barely able to breath he vomited, instead of feeling his blanket get wet from what he thought was bile, he opened his eyes to be greeted by flowers, lots of carnations, stargazer lilies and purple hyacinths mixed together, covered in blood and vines.

He laughed, he had not laughed since the day he got married to Yu Ziyuan, he laughed and laughed bitterly, tears forming in his eyes, he felt so alone, he thought ‘how good would it be if I could just leave?’, at least, he thought between breaths, at least they are alright, it had been a long time since he had heard from his friends.

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

A year had passed just like that, Yu Ziyuan’s angry scornful comments continued any time he so much as tried to speak to her that he gave up trying, his aides while weren’t exactly the same with him anymore, he did catch them staring at him with concern sometimes, few reassurances had them going back to work.

Hearing knocking at the door, with Yu Ziyuan’s “It’s me”, exhaustion filled him, and his heart skipped a beat with fear, of course it wasn’t that he was afraid of her, but her reaction, her words if she knew, he glanced once at the hiding place of the book and got up to open the door, tired as he did not want to face more of her tirades or whatever she wanted from him.

She walked in, eyes roaming over his room and sat on the edge of his bed, “Fengmian” she began, and he took a deep breath, she wanted to ask for something when she spoke like that, “What is it Third-Lady?” he asked, a bit resigned.

“The people have been talking.” She said a bit curtly, that phrase always sent his thoughts back to when they first talked, and since whenever she uttered it, it was almost always followed by anger, he did not like it at all.

Though reluctant, he still asked weakly “About what, Third-Lady?” she looked away. “Heirs” With that one word, he felt a surge of that unpleasant coldness forming in the pit of his stomach. “‘Heirs?’” he repeated, he had known that one day he would have to consummate their relationship, and he had foolishly avoided it being brought up, with what reason could he deny this?

“Make up your mind, people have been talking, how Fengmian has not touched his wife since her arrival.” She said, turning to look at her, the violet of her eyes made him sick, his thoughts filled with the purple hyacinths covered in blood, he felt breath come short to his lungs. “Give me time, Third-Lady.” He whispered weakly, and winced when he realised it was the wrong thing to say as her expression twisted.

“Do you hear yourself? Always ‘give me time’ whenever I ask you for something, haven’t I given you enough time to come to yourself? Always dazed nowadays!” She snapped and he flinched, “Third-Lady no! I-” She interrupted “Don’t speak over me!” She got up, and walked closer to him, prompting him to take a step back. 

“You, always yearning for your beloved it it?” She sniffed and he felt his heart drop, she couldn’t possibly have known, he went alone and- “You...you had people following me??” He whispered, angered, afraid, he did not know what he was feeling, except that he wanted to be far far away from her. Were it the people he once called his aides? 

“Does it matter? Who knows when you’d meet up with that wh-” He slammed his hand on the door “Third-Lady, please leave.” He said taking in deep breaths to keep the pain at bay, “Just go” He added when a look of anger overcame her yet again “Fengmian you-” he didn’t let her speak. “You want heirs? Heirs right? Let's talk about that later, out” He pointed to the door, she bit her lips but ultimately left, knowing her words wouldn’t be needed any more having accomplished what she came for.

He closed the door and tried to move to the inside of the room, where he coughed, coughed until blood poured down his mouth, blood until the purple flowers fell from his mouth, it was getting worse than before, he huffed and washed clean the blood, washed cleaned the flowers, a drawer he opened, entirely filled with violet flowers, a reminder of the fool he had been. 

He sat on his knees as he stared them, despair heavy on his face,  “Ah Changze, what am I supposed to do?”

So, they shared the moment of what should have been their wedding night, he left as soon as morning came, with the urge to vomit yet again at his throat, and it was not entirely due to the diseases spike, he would hope that was the one and only moment time they would ever have to take part in matrimonial duties, for her cutting words didn’t ever seem to hold back, no matter the occasion.

Months passed and confirmation came that she was with child, it was a relief to him, less about acquiring an heir and more not having to deal with the woman, except in her state she was more unbearable than ever but he couldn’t say anything, for he would be met with her rant of “You did this to me!” From her, he fulfilled her every wish, but he couldn’t think to be with her in the same room for more than a few minutes, without bile rising to his throat.

But when the day of the birth came, he sat as she held his arm, as she screamed in pain, that was the least he could do as her husband, suppressing all moments of disgust he felt upon her touch, and after hours and hours, he got to hold his daughter while her mother took rest, and his heart filled with love, his little one, she was his dearest child, Jiang Yanli.

For a few days, things seemed better, Yu Ziyuan seemed to hold back on her anger, he assumed she had been happy as well, how wrong he had been, when she came to him and spoke about betrothal with her Sworn Sister, Madam Jin of Jin Sect, and he felt disbelief coursing his veins and it was the first time he truly raised his voice at her. “No.” he said firmly, no matter how much she yelled or screamed, he refused.

He had said, “Her marriage will done with her own choice, no matter what.” he thought later that had been a mistake, because Yu Ziyuan started to arrange play-dates between Yanli and the Jin heirs son, he still refused, until Jiang Yanli herself came to him, claiming she loved the boy she saw but barely knew anything of, if she did, she would have seen the disdain the boy held for prospect of marriage, the same disdain he saw in Yu Ziyuan.

The woman came to him again, “A-Li likes him, or are you going to deny what you had said?”  He wanted to argue, Yanli was barely old enough to understand but knowing Yu Ziyuan, he knew there was no way she would give up, so he agreed, hoping to break it off later in the future, when Yanli was old enough to understand, his daughter would know that there was no love lost between her and the boy.

Until her 3rd birthday, when it became more and more obvious that Yanli could not form a core, and Yu Ziyuan’s anger burned again, he tried to keep Yanli around him more than her, but when she came asking to talk to her daughter, as her mother, he could not refuse, his daughter usually looked down instead of looking at her.

One of those days, when Yu Ziyuan had come to ask, Jiang Yanli held tightly on his clothes and looked at him with her light coloured eyes, Ziyuan’s purple reminded him of poison, of those hyacinths in his lungs, and Yanli’s reminded him of those purple lotuses, that he had grown with love, he made an excuse, and the woman huffed away, “Fine, send her over later then.” He did not, “She was tired.” He said calmly, when Yu Ziyuan later yelled at him.

They had to share the bed once more when the question of heirs was brought up, and he had spent the rest of the day in his room, vomiting, sick to his stomach, both the blood and the food, for the first time since Yanli’s birth. As usual, he cleaned up without letting anyone know.

Nearing the evening, he heard a light knock at his door. “Father?” He heard, Yanli call out, he got up to open the door, and invited his little daughter in, “Father’s not well?” she questioned as she climbed up onto his lap, he patted her head lovingly. “Father is okay. A-Li does not have to worry, but he wonders what has she been doing? I saw her go to the kitchen earlier today.” He pretended to be puzzled.

“A-Li learnt how to make soup from Old Fa!” She said excitedly, holding her hands together. “But Mother says its a servant’s job, she doesn’t like it.” She wilted and he looked at her directly. “Father would love to eat a-li’s soup.” She looked at him hopefully, “I know it’d taste delicious!” She cheered up. 

“I made it for father today.” She ran out and came back with a bowl filled with what was..the soup. He drank it anyway and gave a strained smile, “Could use a little less salt” He choked out, and her smile was worth it.

Weeks passed peacefully, he was with Yanli in the kitchen, watching as Old Fa taught her how to knead, cooking was one of the few things that brought a smile to her face, seeing her so excited, he relaxed as well, until Yu Ziyuan joined them, he hadn’t expected her to, given her mindset of it being a servants job,  “A-Li you’re doing it wrong.” She said after watching her for a moment, in the same tone of voice as she used when training disciples.

“A-Xuan won’t like it if all you can do is cook, come with me to the training grounds.” She said, he cut her off “A-Li doesn’t have to do everything for him.” And Yu Ziyuan turned to him “If you want her to do a servant job then that's on you, she’s my daughter too, and as the daughter of Violet Spider, she should be able to fight! Not partaking in these weak acts-” He cut her off “Third Lady! Control your words!”

Before he could say more, soft sniffles cut him off, he looked at his daughter, her hands still inside the dough, tears she was trying to wipe on her shoulder, “Third-Lady is not allowed in the kitchen anymore.” He said and watched Old Fa escort her out, not before Yu Ziyuan shouted, “You cannot keep me from training my daughter!” She yelled as if he had ordered her banishment instead.

“No one is keeping you, if you have nothing good to say to a-li, it's better if you stay away from her, Third-Lady, take the day to cool off” He nodded towards the door, “Fine! If you want your daughter to be a weak-” he cut her off “Third-Lady! Leave.” She threw one last look at them and left fuming.

He knelt next to his daughter, pulled her into a hug. “A-Li is sorry Father!” She sobbed, and rubbed her back “A-Li doesn’t have to be sorry, a-li’s mother should be saying sorry.”

“Mother says father doesn’t like a-li” She said after calming down a bit “Because a-li looks like her mother-” he pulled back to look at her in the eye and enunciated his every word, “A-Li is not her mother, a-li is my beloved daughter, and I love everything a-li does” He told her comfortingly. 

“A-Li is not weak, a-li is peaceful, there is strength in nurturing and kindness.” Yanli finally seemed to calm down, hiccuping but not sobbing anymore, he wiped her tears away and smiled “Father loves a-li a lot.” he said as he kissed the top of her head.

---------

And then the day came when Yanli’s little sibling came into the world, accompanied by just as much of screaming, but less hours lost, Yanli cooed over her little brother, a tiny little thing in her mother’s arms, she reached out and lightly pressed his cheek, “So small.” Her father chuckled and said “A-Li was also this small when she was born.” Yu Ziyuan showed a rare smile as well, “His name will be Jiang Cheng.” She said.

Things went a bit smoothly after that, even though Ziyuan was the same as always Yanli his beloved daughter was eight years old, and his son, Jiang Cheng was four, his core formed well and he thought Yu Ziyuan had been happy, so he had not expected when she was walked into his room and started yelling,

 “Why are you ostracising your son!? Yanli’s going to be married into Jin Sect and yet you spend time coddling her! And you don’t spend the same amount of time with your son?”

He really hadn’t expected her random onslaught, nor where she was coming from, his son was working hard, and he had overlooked his training personally, teaching him the Jiang teachings along with Yu Ziyuan’s own training. “Oh is it because I’m his mother? Because you cannot handle seeing your own son when you want to see a son with her-” Where was she coming from, he felt horrified, “Third-Lady! What’re you saying!?”

The door swung open and their son, Jiang Cheng stood shocked, scared at being caught and tears in his eyes, before he ran away. He turned to her disgust forming heavy, before leaving her where she stood spluttering how she didn’t mean for him to hear her.

He found his son sobbing as Yanli comforted him in his room. “Mother doesn’t mean it.” Yanli told him as she rubbed his back, “She loves you.” He only sobbed louder, “But she’s right, Father likes you more because he hates me. He likes that boy more-” Yanli looked as if she didn’t know what to say, and Fengmian felt confused, who were they talking about?

“No, I absolutely, do not.” He said and his children froze and turned to him, “You do! Why do you make me work more than everyone else!?” His son got up, and lightly started punching him from where he reached his knees while he sobbed, Jiang Fengmian, placed a hand on his shoulder, suppressing the pain in his heart and lungs.

“Because A-Cheng is going to be the Sect Leader, A-Cheng needs to be strong.” He said evenly as his son shook his head. “That’s not what you said to Jie!” and ran to his bed, “A-Cheng listen-” His son turned to look at him with anger “If you did then you wouldn’t have that disease!”

Jiang Fengmian stared at him, too shocked to feel anything. How? Or Why? Did she tell them that?! How did she even- his thoughts cut off as he thought back, if she could send people tailing him, what couldn’t she do? 

He looked at his daughter who avoided his gaze, “A-Li?” she answered silently “Mother said Father would replace him for-” She frowned, trying to remember a name, “‘Wei Ying’, the son of your-” She sneaked a peak at him “Your ‘beloved’.” And looked away, as if feeling guilt.

“A-Li, no, I love you both, how can she-” Yanli nodded, “I know that you love us, but A-Cheng thinks Father doesn’t like him because of Mother…” she hesitated. “And that you regret it wasn’t someone else, instead.”

He regretted, he regretted letting his children near Yu Ziyuan’s poisonous words, but the only regret was Yu Ziyuan, not his love for his children, it was not something he would ever regret, he didn’t even know Wei Changze had a son. 

“A-Li” He began gently, knowing A-Cheng was listening when his shaking under the blanket stopped, “They were my friends, like you and-” He thought for a second, “-like you and A-Cheng, we grew up together but they were my friends, and you’re my children, I love you both.” He kissed the top of her head and her shoulders dropped in what could only be relief, and reached up to pat Jiang Cheng’s head under the blanket, and left them for a moment.

He knocked on Yu Ziyuan’s door, only to find it open and empty, he walked inside and opened the cabinets and drawers until he found what he was looking for, for her to know she must have- and there they were.

Pages over pages, written in a familiar writing, ranging from containing details of travels, requesting permission to visit, to mentions of ‘Wei Ying’s’ birth, he felt tears form in his own eyes, with his heart filled with overwhelming pain and indignation, he now understood her random bursts, they were each time a letter was received, over jealousy-

Before he could go out and confront her, the pain in his lungs became unbearable, he choked and coughed, no matter how much he tried to restrain it, he coughed until he collapsed to his knees, why now? His body heated up feeling thorns tear at this lungs and throat. 

He could barely breath as he vomited, vision fading from the corner of his eyes, he was confused until he caught a look of the flowers he coughed, pure black roses mixed with the hyacinths, the rose thorns dripping with blood, no sign of lilies and carnations, his heart and soul filled with agony and he cried, and then he knew nothing more.

When he woke up, he felt nothing, he knew he hated Yu Ziyuan, but he felt nothing but blank emptiness, when he stared at the woman standing at the door, his children on either side of his bed. “Oh good, that you’re awake.” She hissed as if he was an inconvenience and he found no rage, and he nodded calmly instead.

He knew his friends had passed but he did not, could not feel grief, he knew he loved his children, so he reached out with both his hands, patting them as they muttered apologies while sobbing. “It wasn’t your fault, father was a bit sad, and was already sick, but he’s well now.” He said gently, and once the children left, he looked at the woman who was his wife and said “I’ll bring A-Ying back.”

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Authors note

Jfm knew he cared for Wei Ying, yet he felt nothing.

He knew he loved his children, he felt nothing,

He knew he hated his wife, yet he felt, nothing.

---------

So yesterday i was looking through @angstymdzsthoughts  and came across platonic hanahaki and thought hey sounds angsty, and thought ‘hey what if jfm had platonic hanahaki for cangse sanren and wei changze?’ i deliberately tried to keep it ambiguous which one he was in love with XD Madam Yu kept assuming and he didn’t give a fuk about correcting her, also like i couldnt bring myself to even write them spending the night together idk y, took a lot of effort lol. Started out with thinking hanaki, got more of JFM’s descent to feeling nothing oof.

Also like it turned out more focus on the fact that even before wwx was brought to lp, there would still be yzy biching and making everyone miserable so-

[cherrywoes]

bambi. miya osamu x f! reader.

au: idol au

pairing: miya osamu x female reader.

word count: 1.5k

prompt: established relationship.

rating: 16+

tw: alcohol, strong language, inferiority complex.

summary: osamu struggles with comparisons to his brother, but you’re always there to comfort him in the end.

genre: fluff, comfort fic.

a/n: this is part of the cafe x hangout collab! hopefully it’s fluffy enough for everyone’s tastes, it isn’t sickeningly sweet--it’s just enough. i hope everyone likes it! <3

“THANKS, EVERYONE.” Osamu yawned into his hand sleepily. The bright white of his screen kept him awake, along with the endless stream of comments popping up in the left hand corner of the screen. Several of them lamented that he was leaving so early, but a quick glance at the clock revealed that it had been over four hours that he’d been streaming—so almost immediately after he had gotten home, then. A rustling in his kitchen, so faint he barely heard it, snapped his attention back to the Instagram live he was about to shut down. He ran a hand through his hair, destroying it even further than it already was, and shrugged to the screen. “I’m going to call it a night, guys. I’m pretty tired and I have a packed schedule tomorrow; remember to rest and take care of yourselves.”

He ended the stream without looking at the rest of the comments, his eye barely catching one reading ‘Atsumu would have stayed on longer until he fell asleep :(‘. Closing his eyes tightly against the bright light, Osamu huffed and tossed his phone on his bed. He didn’t want to look at it right now—not when every time he logged on to Instagram it was to Atsumu’s cheery face, snapping selfies with his fans or whatever cafe he’d happen to stumble upon that particular day. They were just cafes he’d introduced his brother to, but every time he mentioned them he would have to move on and find another one to get away from all of the attention Atsumu brought him.

His own fans were okay—but Atsumu’s were on an entirely different level. From stalking his every move, staking out his apartment for discreet photos of his bare face and pajamas when he took out the trash, investigating everyone who came and went from his apartment (thankfully he lived in a complex where a lot of A-list celebrities lived), and even running down his license plate number to follow him on the road.

It was ridiculous. Osamu just wanted a quiet existence separate from his identity as an idol, but whenever he turned a corner, there was Atsumu dragging him into another crowd of people, exposing him to his insane fans and getting them to like him, too. He’d virtually given up trying to have some semblance of a private life, smiling politely whenever he was photographed in public and tiredly soothing fans who would break out into tears whenever they passed him on the street.

“‘Samu?” You poked your head past his door, scanning for his phone to see if he was still live. When the light bounced off the phone screen on his bed, you stepped further inside, this time revealing a tray of food, chamomile tea—Osamu could smell it—and his migraine medicine. “I brought you dinner—well, a late dinner, but I know you didn’t eat before you came home—”

Except you. A particularly bright spot in his life, the only one if he was to be honest; a reminder of what he came home to every day when his ‘idol’ facade was over until the next day. He sat up and mused his hair into something resembling the style he usually wore, although judging by the little giggle you tried to hide he had probably failed in that aspect.

You set down the tray on his desk, reaching over and smoothing down the pieces that stuck up like duck feathers in the back of his head. He leaned forward and pressed his nose into your collarbone, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you closer. He sighed, all of the tension and anxiety deflating from him like a balloon, and smiled his first genuine smile of the day when you tipped his head back to look at his face.

“Aw, ‘Samu,” you tutted, swiping your thumbs underneath his eyes. “You look so tired nowadays; is Atsumu bothering you again? You know I can set him right, if you want me to.”

Osamu grimaced at the thought of you ‘setting his brother right’. The last time it had happened he had been sitting between the both of you while you yanked on Atsumu’s ear and hair with all of your might, screeching your fury—and Osamu’s irritation—at his brother. Naturally, it had gotten through his twin’s thick skull, but only for a few weeks before he was back at it again, shoving media attention at him worse than before. Those weeks had been the best days of Osamu’s life; even his management had commented on it, saying he looked more livelier when he was performing.

“No,” he sighed. You drummed your fingers against his brow bone, waiting for him to elaborate, and hummed softly to yourself while you did. “Not really. It’s more… Comparing me to him again, I guess.”

You clucked your tongue thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s your fans that I need to set straight then, hmm?”

You were no idol. It was different for actresses, at least for now; you could be as rude or curt to your fans about their behavior if you wanted, whereas he had to be kind, docile, polite—all of which Osamu was decidedly not in normal company. He was as snarky and droll as Atsumu was normally, but that contradicted their identity as ‘twins’; management couldn’t have two of the same person, even if they were different in their own ways. Their consumers wouldn’t see it that way.

Keeping your relationship—while serious—secret had been the worst part of it all. He hated that he couldn’t go out with you in public or take you to his favorite spots without gathering some rather nasty attention. Once had been enough; the scandal had rocketed through the tabloids until he’d said it was just a business transaction for his new video. Which had been true: you had starred in his music video. But the look of quiet hurt as you read all of the comments on the article had hit him hard.

“No,” he laughed quietly, pulling away and reaching for the bowl of broth and salmon. Another con: his diet. “Did you cook this?”

“Mhm. It’s pretty plain,” you began, side-eyeing him while picking at the clutter on his desk and straightening up a stack of books near the corner,”but I read your diet planner and that was really all I could come up with.”

“It’s good,” he reassured you, taking another healthy sip from his spoon. It wasn’t as strong as what he would cook, but it was the thought that counted, and he appreciated it. “I’m thinking about quitting, honestly.”

“What?” You hummed. You cracked open a book, saw it was a gift from Atsumu (his taste in literature was infamous) and shut it quickly with a frown. “Your diet?”

“Being an idol.”

You didn’t react like he had thought—there wasn’t any anger or disbelief. Instead, relief made your shoulders sag. “Oh, thank god, you’re finally getting out of that shithole. Oh, ‘Samu, you don’t know how agonizing it’s been watching you deteriorate into some carbon copy of—”

“You aren’t mad?” He blurted, wondering how you would act if it had been Atsumu who had said that—how you would act if it was Atsumu who was your boyfriend, not him.

“Are you serious?” The disbelief crept in, then, but not in the way he imagined. You rolled your eyes when he stayed quiet and cupped his face in your hands, pressing a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose. “No, you silly boy, I’m not mad. I’m happy you’re considering it. You seem so miserable doing those lives and fan meets—I’m not dumb. You hate being an idol. You even told me as much. Not in so many words, but I can pick up some clues, too, you know.”

Osamu blinked up at you, almost stupidly. “So… You’re okay with—?”

“Of course I am.” You smiled then, pushing all of his hair away from his forehead with a laugh. “Who do you think I am, Atsumu?”

Almost immediately his mood soured. Atsumu. The reason he had even become an idol in the first place; what would he say? What would he think of this? He would hate him. He’d be pissed, too—

“Hey,” you chided, tapping his cheek to get his attention.  “You went and left again, ‘Samu. What are you thinking about?”

His silence told you all you needed to know.

“Alright. Here.” You snatched his phone up from the bed and unlocked it, typed a quick text, and held it out to him. “There. Done. Atsumu knows now. It isn’t his business what you do now.”

Osamu stared at the screen for a moment, then sighed and buried his face in your chest. “Thank you, [Name].”

“No problem, honey.” You ran a soothing hand down the back of his neck, ignoring the ping of a single text from Atsumu that you knew he was reading behind your back. “Come on, let’s watch Bambi while you eat. I’ve had a stroke of nostalgia lately while you’ve been busy.”

He put his phone face down on the desk, picking up his bowl and tea and toddling after you to the living room. “Alright, lead the way.”

The phone screen remained lit, reflecting a single, honest, ‘Finally’ on the wooden surface.

                                              requests: open.