#Wake up to righteousness

[wecanbeperfect]

THE RESURRECTION DEFENDED

[bonefall]

I made a super self indulgent "Firestar is a BrokenTiger kit for shits and giggles" where Brokensky/star was supposed to bring back SkyClan or something and didn't, so the job was passed on to Firestar. Also Firepaw is an absolute brat good lord, if this were to be written I would have to change the protagonist to Ravenpaw or something just so the plot would get moving

You could use Firepaw being kind of a brat to your advantage. I have a philosophy; every character trait is a coin, and its strength is heads and its weakness is tails.

So maybe he's an entitled brat and plays up his privilege, but what does that mean in the brutal society he'd grow up in? That he doesn't like getting blood on his claws? That he's allowed to break up a fight? He might very well have a "childlike" sense of justice that he's leaned into.

And what would Ravenpaw be contributing to that dynamic? What exactly does Firepaw lack that Raven would bring? Not just 'brattiness', I mean, does Raven bring a respect of the code? Practical logistical considerations? Agency, as in Raven is the one who wants to get stuff done?

If your protag is having issues getting the plot started, you may have an easier time identifying how you can tweak them to get the story in motion.

Nothing's worse than a protag, or a DND character, or any other main "plot mover" who's allergic to getting involved in the plot!

[inkskinned]

what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?

i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?

a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?

in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.

girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.

there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.

for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.

something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.

is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.

most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."

a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.

[minty-bubblegum]

I FOUND MY FAVE SHORTS!!!!! ALL IS RIGHY IN THE WORLD I AM SO HAPPY I SM GLEEFUL EVEN

[moonsaver]

Finished penacony. Sunday. Oh dear oh dear.

Yan!Sunday who seems obsessively off with you for the early start of something like a relationship. Calm, but underlying warning tones. One wrong word and you might tip him off too much. You've learned one way to decode his emotions are his wings. They tense up whenever you mention something.. unpleasant. Its a warning. You cut yourself off in the middle of your sentence. The silence passes, and his wings relax. He turns to you with a calm smile on his face. You barely squeezed through, this time.

Yan!Sunday who's just a bit delusional. He deludes himself into thinking about righteousness, and you're some sort of reward for him, for him to keep, and shelter, and nurture, like a christmas gift pet, but something more tender. Tender like a bruise, anyway.

Yan!Sunday, who seems.. to be slipping indisputably. In the corners of your eyes, in private, where he meticulously plans everything, every second where you breathe. He helps you dress and laces up your clothing just as he normally does, but huffs, and insists on doing it again. The first few times, he redid it only twice. His frustration would bleed through his fingers the more things proceeded in time, tightening the lace so much, your limbs almost went blue. He apologizes through gritted teeth, and you forgive him. It doesn't help the fact he practically suffocates you with the way he kisses you, though. His lips land on yours a bit too harshly, and you wonder if he actually hates you. Those thoughts dissipate when he relaxes more into it, though.

Yan!Sunday, who stares at you unblinking, waiting for you in the dreamscape, in the reverie, anywhere. Robin's.. departure has put him under more strain, so just for his sake.. ignore the way he tightly grips your arm, fearing it'll snap.

Yan!Sunday – you can't leave his watchful gaze. The last time you did it, he practically forced you to walk through the real dreamscape, deathly shivering as the atmosphere almost froze you, being forced to walk through unyieldingly harsh and twisted paths, doors never staying in the same place, being forced to use rough traversing methods, the dizziness of the memoria almost feverish. He waits for you at the end, a much gentler version of him. You fall into his arms, sobbing and weeping, and for once he handles you with care. Gently wiping your tears, stroking your hair, his hand guiding the back of your head to his shoulder, burying your nose into the crook of his neck. You notice just how much more warmer he feels in the dreamscape, not just due to the cold atmosphere. His wings gently flutter on your face. Let's leave now, he says. I trust you've learnt, my dear.

Yan!Sunday, who decides that maybe keeping you in the alternate dreamscape, Golden Hour, would be much more preferable. He seethes watching you be eyed by everyone – officials, businessmen, representatives, whoever it may be. He gently lulls you into the dream fluid, kissing your hands, up to your arms, neck, til your cheek, until you finally fall asleep. He places you down and gets to work in a second. When you panic, not being able to wake up, he's right beside you in a heartbeat, telling you there's just been a slight error.

Yan!Sunday, who would even go as far as to construct an entirely new dream for you and you alone. No one would be allowed to visit except him. He tells you it's for the better. Everyone lies in Penacony. Stay put and let him take care of this. Let him take care of you. Of everything. You dont miss the way his hands harden their grip around your waist. His gaze settles gently on yours. It's a harsh contrast to his eerily peering one, in reality. If you even remember what it's like being there, of course.

[jinnie-ret]

cigarette duet

poly!stray kids x ninth member!reader

genre: angst, fluff at the end

content warnings: smoking, mentions of rehab, mentions of recovery

word count: 3k

summary: you get hounded by your boyfriends after they catch you smoking. how will they react when you disappear and go off the radar?

requested: @ihrtlix

It has been a while since I've written! I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get around to the requests for this event but I'm getting back into the swing of things! Hope you enjoy! Please don't take offense to any opinions presented in this imagine. Enjoy! And if you want to be tagged in anything I write please lemme know! <3

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MAIN MASTERLIST

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Perhaps you had smoked one too many cigarettes last night. Waking up the next morning after battling your stresses with the addictive feed of nicotine, your throat felt dry, hoarse, scratchy even.

"Baby, are you sure you're not sick?" Felix fussed, placing his hand delicately on your forehead to gain an idea of your temperature. "I mean, you don't feel hot, but maybe you're coming down with something?"

"I'm fine, love, just need some water," you kiss his hand that was pulling away from your face, offering a reassuring smile after clearing your throat.

And in your mind, that was enough. You didn't notice the little things that your boyfriends did however.

"Binnie, what are you doing? You look like a perv haha," Hyunjin giggled at the sight of Changbin rummaging through the laundry basket and sniffing your hoodie.

"Ssshhh, keep it down. And plus, it's not being pervy, people in relationships do it all the time. It's comforting smelling each other's clothing," Changbin righteously pointed out to his boyfriend, puffing his chest before adding, "well, normally it is..." he sighed.

"Woah that's mean, you can't say our girlfriend smells," Hyunjin pushed Changbin's shoulder, laughing again but with wide eyes this time round.

"No, no, you've got the wrong idea anyways. I think... I think Y/N's been smoking. I can smell it on her hoodie," Changbin sighed, tossing the white hoodie of yours back into the washing basket that was full to the brim. He was about to continue his spiel of conspiracies until he jumped when your arms wrapped around behind him.

"Aw, babe, are you doing the washing? Thank god for that, I was worried it would never get done," you squeezed him tightly once more before kissing him on the cheek and continuing your venture into the kitchen, Felix trailing behind you.

"I think she's getting sick, I'm gonna see if we have any meds in the cupboard, or some throat sweets at least," Felix pouted as he walked past his two boyfriends, Hyunjin ruffling his hair on the way.

Changbin threw a meaningful look at Hyunjin, alarms going off in his head because it only added more fuel to the blazing fire of thoughts in his head.

"Look, we don't know that she is smoking for sure. Maybe she's just been around some friends that are?" Hyunjin whispers hurriedly, yet this caught Seungmin's attention, and his ears too.

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Seungmin casually stood between the two, grabbing laundry detergent and capsules from the cupboard to act natural yet because practical at the same time.

"I'll explain later, to all of you. I'm just a bit concerned," Changbin sighed, rubbing his hand across his face before actually making a start on the chore at hand.

It was an escape for you, much like it was for other people who smoked cigarettes. And plus, you hadn't been doing it for long. You thought what could the harm be when you didn't do it a lot? Plus, it was handy that none of your boyfriends batted an eyelid in the studio when you said you wanted to go outside for some air. In fact, it gave the opportunity for Changbin to lay out his thoughts to the rest of your boyfriends who hadn't yet heard his observations.

"Y/N... I don't think she'd do that, I can't picture it," Jeongin shook his head, shaking his hands in confusion because the picture being painted in front of them seemed very unlikely and it wasn't a nice one to think of.

"And she knows it's too risky. First of all we're idols. I hate to say it but we have to think about that first in situations like these. Even when we're drinking we've got to be careful. If you're right about this, Binnie, then..." Chan groaned, leaning back into his seat with a huff.

"But she did just go out 'for some air'," Han added on, brows furrowed as he thought what Changbin was saying was quite plausible.

"Ok. We'll go check then," Minho shrugged as he stood.

"What?" Felix too stood up.

"We can't sit here and keep worrying. Let's go check and see for ourselves. If we're wrong... And I hope we are... Then it's fine," Minho grabbed his phone and shoved it into his pocket, scanning around the room for his boyfriends' reactions.

"And if we're not wrong, then what?" Hyunjin voiced his concerns.

"Let's just hope we're not," Chan was first to walk out the door, the rest of Stray Kids following along after him like ducklings and their mother. Apart from this time it wasn't the cute, adorable scene you'd hope for, especially because they could smell the smoke and see your lax figure as soon as they rounded the corner to the back of the building.

"No. Y/N you've got to be kidding me!" Chan snatched the cigarette out of your hand and immediately stomped it out.

"Chan I-" you fumbled on your words, eyes wide as you had all eight of your lovers stood in front of you. And the way they looked at you made you stomach twist into knots you were sure you'd never felt.

Disappointment. Anger. Concern. Indifference.

"Let's talk about this inside," Changbin wrapped an arm around your shoulder as he spoke quietly to you.

Your heart was racing faster. They were going to think the worst. But you had a way out of this. It wasn't even that bad. Sure, over the past month maybe you'd have been spending more money on packs of cigarettes, yet on the inside you felt as if there were worse things you could be doing to yourself.

"Sit," Minho bluntly said, face unreadable, tone void of emotion.

And so you did.

"We'll just have a conversation about this, nice and calm, ok?" Felix nudged Chan in particular with his leg.

It seemed however that it wasn't a conversation, but more of an intervention. A heated one, at that.

"I can't be nice and calm, Lix! Our girlfriend is destroying her body, and for what?" Chan's voice rose ever so slightly, hands squeezing the arms of the chair he was tensely sat in.

"It's just a cigarette," you feebly replied. That backbone of yours was slowly wearing away the more and more anger you felt radiating off of your partners.

"Don't be ridiculous," Seungmin scoffed, "think of the damage it's doing. Think about your career."

"It's more than just the odd cigarette, right?" Changbin prodded, wanting answers to the millions of questions he had. After all, he was the first one to notice how you gradually stopped voicing your concerns to him but still sometimes had the habits that showed your anxiety.

"Well, yes, but-" you began but were cut off.

"No buts. That's... It's, you're hurting yourself, hurting your lungs. Why are you doing this, baby?" Jeongin took your hand in his, concern not the only thing glistening in his eyes, which broke your heart.

"It's just a nice distraction, that's all. It won't go on forever, I'll just stop when I want to," you shrug your shoulders, squeezing his hand to show you meant what you said.

"It's not that easy. Nicotine. It's addictive. You think you can just stop like that?" Hyunjin frowned, shaking his head.

"I know I can," you firmly said, urging them with your voice to trust you.

"I don't know what planet you're living on," Chan shook his head.

"Channie..." Felix bit his lip, feeling torn. On one hand he didn't want your boyfriend to be so tough with you, but he also disagreed with the choices you made, the ones you were making.

"No I'm sorry but Y/N, babe, you've made one of the stupidest choices you could make! Seungminnie is right, Jeongin too. It's damaging for your body, let alone your career. You keep this up, you're not going to be able to sing as well as before. And then it'll get to the point where you can't breathe as well anymore," Chan ranted, fiddling with the bracelets adorning his wrist as he didn't take his eyes away from yours, not once.

"I just told you it's not going to go that far!" your face contorted to one of disbelief.

"That's out of your control," Minho sternly redirected your attention to him.

"Wow. It's like you don't even trust me. I'm not some kid. I can make my own decisions. So what if I'm doing this for a little bit of stress relief? For a bit of fun. It helps me," your voice almost turns to pleading, wanting them to hear you out, hear your reasoning.

"It hurts you, baby. And when it hurts you, it hurts us as well," Han bit his lip after shakily speaking up. He didn't like this situation, not one bit.

"I'm not doing it to hurt you. I'd never do that," your voice wobbled, throat feeling as if it was closing up from the sob that was lodged down there.

"Too late. I mean just look," Chan emptied your handbag, empty packets of cigarettes and some not, falling out onto the floor of the studio.

"Y/N, that's a lot," Hyunjin gasped, clutching a hand on his chest.

"It's not. It's not that bad..." you denied as you knelt on the floor and tidied up the mess.

"You're in complete denial," Seungmin rolled his eyes.

"I'm not! I'm well aware of my actions thank you very much!" you shouted suddenly, causing everyone to freeze at the volume you had just reached.

The guilt set in. It was never meant to go this far. It was just meant to be for stress relief. Something to distract you from the aches and pains, physical and mental. It wasn't long until you'd be performing a special fanmeeting and relearning old choreographies and a cover had you feeling like you were being worked down to the bone. Even iconic dances like God's Menu were hard to remember, and you felt like you had no chance. No choice. It was like it fell into your lap so easily.

The first time you had stood outside to catch some air, it was for that genuine reason. And you weren't alone. You didn't know if the person worked at your company, if you knew them, whatever. But their hand offering you something that could bring you temporary bliss was a solution you were grateful for. Only now, you were seeing that it was short term.

"You need help. Seriously..." Chan spat, grabbing his backpack and storming out of the studio.

"Find a way to end this, Y/Nnie," Felix mumbled, stroking your hair gently before following Chan out with a rush.

"You're all just going to go?" your voice cracked. Were they leaving you now?

"We just need some time," Changbin sighed. And then he was gone too.

"You're leaving me?" you sniffled, standing up to face your boyfriends that were still in the room.

"Not like that, baby. We're just giving you time to think about how you can stop this, ok?" Han stroked your face as he made sure you knew this wasn't the end. And then he left too, Minho, Hyunjin, Seungmin and Jeongin leaving too.

All alone. Perhaps it was what you deserved. You relied on the cigarettes more than your boyfriends. And they were all you had left for the moment. That was when it sank in. You had to make a change. You had to stop this habit form taking over your life, from pushing away the people you love most, and from taking your life away.

•••

"She's sorting herself out at least... that's got to be commendable."

"I guess so. Let's just hope it doesn't get out that a JYP idol is at rehab for smoking."

"It won't. And she's doing well from what I've heard..."

This was the only time Han was grateful for the staff gossiping. Immediately, he felt calmer. Considering the boys had spent the last few days blowing up your phone and worrying where you went, it was an oddly relieving feeling hearing you were at rehab. They had tried asking JYP himself, asking the manager of the company where you were but all they said was that you were safe.

"I know where she is!" Han bursted through the apartment door, slamming it shut behind him as he panted out of breath.

"Woah, woah, ok, deep breaths, let's sit down," Chan, with the darkest circles around his eyes yet, gently sat Han down on the sofa. He felt awful. He thought he had driven you away from them all. From the group. From the relationship. And that had been eating him up inside. It was a wonder he could act so calm with the news of you going into rehab.

"Rehab? For smoking? I didn't even know that was a thing," Seungmin hummed in thought, his arms crossed.

"I didn't either, but I overheard the staff. They say she's doing well. It's a good thing, right?" Han's eyes stared through the souls of everyone gathered in the lounge, begging for some sort of confirmation that things would get better.

"I mean, at least we're a bit more in the know then our own fans about why our girlfriend is on hiatus," Changbin brushed his fluffy, dark hair out of his eye.

"Can't we go and see her?" Felix wondered, lifting his head up from where it rested on Minho's shoulder.

"We shouldn't," Minho quietly sighed.

"Why not?" Jeongin quickly turned to him, mouth parted in shock that he didn't want to see Y/N.

"No, he's right. She's gone there for a reason. To get better. It's what we all said to her, isn't it? We'll see her soon. And when we do... It'll all be better," Chan helped everyone see sense. He was right. You had listened to them. You went and got help and were solving the problem. If they suddenly ambushed you and got in the way of that... You'd be back to square one.

•••

Today was the day, you were finally going back to the boys. You spent a good 3 weeks at rehab, and had been advised on some good coping mechanisms to take your mind off of smoking and how to create some healthier habits. You had shown good progress and it was deemed acceptable for you to leave and spend time back with your loved ones. And you couldn't lie, you were incredibly nervous. You had dropped a text without reading the spam that littered the groupchat, notifying your boyfriends what time you'd be returning, but after that you once again did not read anything else that was sent.

"Oh my baby, I've missed you so much," Han was the first one at the door, pressing kisses all over your face as he took you into his arms, holding you lightly.

"I've missed you too," you cried immediately, despite the weight off your shoulders.

"You're good now, right, darling?" Seungmin softly tugged you away from Han, both of his hands cupping your face whilst his thumbs wiped away your tears.

"I'm better," you nod through tears, Seungmin pressing a kiss to your head and giving space for your other boyfriends to soothe you and reunite with you. It had only been three weeks, yes, but 21 days had never felt so long.

"I'm proud of you, come here," Changbin scooped you into his arms and lifted you slightly, making you giggle before your feet touched the ground once more.

"Thank you... I'm sorry. I didn't realise what I had done... How far it went, you know?" you began, looking down at the floor as Hyunjin came and wrapped his arms around you from behind, his long arms securing you to him.

"We're just happy to see you here, honey, healthier," he whispered into your ear soothingly.

"And please talk to us in future. We had time to think after that, moment, and we know you were doing it as an escape. But we're here for you," Jeongin pecked you on the lips, your heads pressed against each other for a moment before he too moved away.

"Always, we're always here," Felix reiterated what Jeongin preached, and kisses you as well, noses rubbing against each other as he moved away, a cute expression on his face.

"Come here," Minho opened his arms, and you reluctantly left Hyunjin's arms only to be happy again in the warmth of your other boyfriend's embrace.

"Thank you for waiting, all of you," you swayed with him in his hug, until you pulled away and it was only Chan left.

He stood a few metres away, back to you, shoulders shaking ever so slightly.

"Channie... babe," you sighed, tugging his hand to turn him and face you. His words had hurt you the most but it was also a huge wake up call. "Please, look at me, I'm not mad. I'm so grateful."

"I was too harsh with you," he bit his lip, hard, not wanting to let any tears escape.

"I needed it. Look at me now, I'm here, I'm better, and I've got habits I can stick to instead. Ones that won't hurt me. And they won't hurt you guys either," you looked up at him, one hand running through the hair at the nape of his neck and the other cupping his face.

"I'm so glad you're back... We were worried... Lost without you," Chan admitted, staring up at the ceiling before kissing you deeply, expressing all the emotions he had held back whilst you were gone.

"It's all good now. Plus, you should all be proud of me-"

"We are proud of you, baby," Jeongin cut you off stroking your hair.

"Well, be even prouder because I know how to bake an amazing carrot cake if I say so myself," you laughed, sharing a new skill that had occupied your stress and been taught whilst you were away.

"You can bake with me now! Oh my gosh! It's a miracle!" Felix cheered, tugging you into the kitchen as the other boys chuckled from behind you both.

"I didn't think you meant this very second!"

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tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @kailee08 @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @turtledove824 @2minstan @royal-shinigami @yangbbokari @skzoologist @crabrangoongirl25 @atinyniki @writingforstraykids @minholing @lilmisssona @astraysimp @lixie-phoria

[mrpenguinpants]

Turning Red

— He's always so serious that they can't help but wonder what kind of emotions he's hiding underneath. Good thing you're around.

— Dan Heng, Gepard, Blade + Jing Yuan

Slight spoilers for Xianzhou and Kafka's companion quest.

[Masterlist]

I've fallen into the Honkai train, but here we are. Also, I know Jing Yuan doesn't fit this prompt but I like him so who cares.

Dan Heng

"Dan Heng! We need one more person to play Celestial Jade!" March hollars down the hallway only to receive no response. It makes her pout, biting the inside of her cheek as she taps her foot restless against the floor, "If you don't come soon then I'll be the one in trouble you know!"

Again no response...

She's checked his room and the archives, and yet no sign of the man. The Express is only so big so surely he didn't wander off somewhere outside right? Maybe you know where he is? Dan Heng seems to talk to you more than he does with her, so maybe he gave you a heads-up that he was going somewhere? It's not a solid plan, but it's a plan nonetheless so she marches her way to your room.

"Hey, have you seen Dan Heng anywh-" March starts as she opens your door only to stop mid-sentence since the eyes of the very man she was looking for are staring right back at her. "Ah. Oops."

Her eyes slowly trail down from his and ah- she understands why he was missing. You're curled up around him, arms haphazardly laid across his waist while your head is cushioned by his chest. Dan Heng doesn't seem to find your sleeping position bothersome, if anything it looks like he's trying to slowly nudge you closer without waking you up. One hand is on his phone, probably typing away on the databank, while the other is curled around your waist. His chin rests on top of yours contentedly as his white and turquoise coat is used as a mock blanket, leaving him in the black turtle neck.

Dan Heng looks like he's about to say something but you shift and mumble something in your sleep and they both go still. Scared that they may have accidentally woken you up and the Express doesn't have enough space for March to run and hide from Dan Heng but thankfully, you seem to settle down and return to your dreams. Thus, March and Dan Heng are locked in a staring contest before she slowly reaches into her back pocket without breaking eye contact.

"Don't you dare," Dan Heng whispers as loud as he dares, although his pink cheeks don't do anything to make him look intimidating.

"Oh, I think I dare," she grins too widely as she raises her camera, making sure it's on silent before she starts to bombard her gallery with a pink Dan Heng because he can't stop her unless he gets up. The most he can do is turn his face away but it shows the world his red ears. Once she's satisfied, she's sticking her tongue out and darts out of the room. She expects that two things will happen. Dan Heng will hunt her down and make her delete the pictures, but not before she sends them all to him. As soon as the door closes and March walks down at the end of the hallway she let her mini explosion commence because Geez! That was so cute! Who knew Dan Heng could be so adorable! Why can't she have that with someone special, this isn't fair!!

Gepard

Gepard Landau. The prestigious young captain of the Silvermane Guards who belongs to the noble Landau family. A personality of righteousness, a good family background, and on top of that he sure has a pretty face. The absolute perfect man.

What a boring guy.

That's the only thought that runs through Sampo's mind as he observes the blond hair man talking to his subordinate from a distance. The two of you are supposed to be on break - he knows this because it makes the other Silvermane Guards more relaxed so it's easier for him to run around - and yet Gepard has his back straight and looks as if he's never heard of what a day-off is. What a shame that those pretty blues only have eyes for reports.

"This part here has been causing some issues for our intelligence team," he hears the subordinate say and Sampo's eyes shift to you. He's heard of you before although not as much as Gepard. A simple errand girl who frequently moves between the Silvermane Guards and the Neverwinter Workshop to deliver messages and supplies. Nothing incredibly remarkable but you're a kind person who keeps to themselves. Sampo thinks you and him could get along if you didn't hang around Gepard so often.

"Let me see..." Gepard mumbles and leans down closer to read the fine print before you turn your head to the side and plant a small kiss on his cheek. Despite the cute gesture, Gepard doesn't change or make any expression. He simply steps back into a polite distance, a hand coming up to loosen his collar as he clears his throat, before reprimanding you on workplace-appropriate jokes. You don't seem to take offense to his lack of response, just adorably hiding your smile behind your paper before waving goodbye to the Captain. Meanwhile, Sampo is coughing violently behind his fist because what the hell was that? So much build-up only for a lackluster ending? As a man of the dramatics, it's too much for him.

"Seriously, there's nothing fun about this guy," Sampo sighs, shrugging his shoulders as if to console himself. He's about to turn and leave but the rushed clinking of armor has him looking back at the Captain.

"Seriously..." Gepard mutters before hiding his face behind his hand. Even from this distance, Sampo can see how red the Captain's ears have gotten just from a simple cheek kiss.

Blade

Kafka thinks you're cute. Really cute.

Everyone in the Stellaron Hunters hides their true emotions behind multiple masks and it's refreshing to meet someone who wears their heart on their sleeve. Although it could also be because you're incredibly bad at hiding your feelings. Even if Kafka wasn't as skilled as she is with reading people, you do a piss poor job. Still, it's fun for her and that's the important part.

"Oh? Back so soon?" Kafka greets you as you step out of the alleyway. Even if your face isn't plastered across the Xianzhou like Kafka's and Blades, it wouldn't look good to be seen conversing with them. Plus you rather like being able to walk in broad daylight without the fear of the Cloud Knights chasing you down to slap some cuffs on you.

"Yes ma'am. We can depart when you're ready," you salute and she can't help but laugh at your cute mannerism. It makes you falter the slightest bit but you hold your pose.

"Good. Good. It must have been hard to pilot a ship so close to the Xianzhou without being detected. Especially given," she makes a gesture at Blade, "recent events."

You only nod at her hidden meaning before she's suddenly stepping into your personal space. You can only make a small noise before her arm is wrapped around your waist pulling you closer to her, and you pointedly ignore how her chest is pressed against yours, and her other hand raises your chin until your lips brush against hers. With her so close, she can see the pink in your cheeks growing and how tense your body is against hers. Your eyes dart from her down to her lip before catching yourself and instead looking behind her. It's cute.

"Would you like a reward?" she whispers next to your ear.

"Don't tease so much."

"Oh," Kafka blinks twice, turning her head to her companion as she lets go of your chin so she can press her fingertips against her mouth like one of those posh ladies when they find out about the latest gossip, "how out of character Bladie."

He doesn't dignify her with a response, just closes his eyes and goes back into his meditation. His face fell into that perfect stone that she could have imagined that he spoke. But those piercing eyes carving their way into her bones are unmistakable that even if they are closed, she still feels watched. But she relents and drops her arms around you before sending you off back to the ship. They'll join you soon.

"That's interesting," Kafka muses, she rolls her fingers as thin magenta strings appear before being flicked away with her wrist. Blade shouldn't be able to register anything but herself and yet, he seemed to notice you.

Jing Yuan

Yanqing has the sneaking suspicion that his General is sneaking off to slack off again. While he knows Jing Yuan is incredibly busy and he tends to do things discreetly, this getting far too strange. The General always has a complacent smile, but recently, it's been a tiny bit more genuine every time he waltzs in. For someone so tall, at least in Yanqing's opinion, he's able to slip past everyone and it's impossible to get in contact with him until he suddenly appears hours later. Yanqing would know, he's blasted the General's phone only to receive a cute emote and a "Surely my lieutenant is more than suitable for this, no?". Does it make Yanqing swell with so much pride that he forgets about Jing Yuan slacking off, maybe, but that's beside the point.

"General, what exactly are you doing in your... "off time"," Yanqing words slowly, unsure of what he was asking is considered a pry into Jing Yuan's personal life and if he will get upset with him.

"You're making it sound as if I'm doing something depraved during this "off time"," Jing Yuan chuckles at how fast Yanqing turns pink at his implications. Yanqing's hands quickly come up in a placating nature as he shakes his head so hard that his ponytail smacks against the wall.

"N-Not at all General! I was just curious- but you don't need to answer if it's something important!" Yanqing struggles through his words but luckily, Jing Yuan doesn't seem to take offense. If anything, he finds it amusing as he rubs Yanqing's head like an overactive puppy. It makes Yanqing huff and shoos away the offending hand before crossing his arms, expectantly waiting for an answer.

"It's not anything that needs to be kept as a secret. I'm simply taking a walk around Xianzhou to distress. You should take some time to do so as well, training every single day without a break will only lead to weary bones and stiff muscles," Jing Yuan advises which Yanqing nods carefully along to. Although Yanqing's eyes drift from the General's eyes to mouth, he seems more...softer around the edges? Even though he's the only one here, it looks like Jing Yuan is speaking to someone else through him.

"Are you sure you're not doing something indecent?" Yanqing deadpans to which the General laughs. He reaches over to ruffle his disciple's hair again before crossing them behind his back and walking ahead. Seriously, Yanqing thinks as he fixes his hair back into place, he can never get a good read on his General.

[yourdarkcherry]

Feeling righteously yummy || J.M

Summary: you’re grounded and JJ is pleading you to come with him on another late night adventure, when you refuse he decides that he should just finger you in your bedroom.

Warnings: smut, fingering (r!receiving), nipple biting and sucking, lots and lots of dirty talk, fem!reader.

Divider by: @/cafekitsune

Your parents hate JJ Maybank. They hate the effect he has on you, it’s a visceral type of change that comes in and disturbs everything in your world. 

You don’t blame them at all, because when he comes knocking at your window, or more likely throwing rocks,  you would throw away everything and hop into his motorcycle, not caring where he takes you as long as he takes you with him. 

He returns you to your home just by dawn, sometimes he doesn’t drop you off and you simply sleep over in questionable places with him. You’ve never been caught when you commit the latter, but you were the previous day and you were grounded, your window shut and your mother guarding the front door.

But if JJ Maybank was anything, he was born with the kind of persistence that tires you out and makes you do whatever he wants you to do. He’s holding into a tree branch and leaning against your bedroom window, managed to climb it with the help of the massive tree next to your house. 

His hand is extended to you, inviting you to join him on another adventure tonight. Looking so handsome and so charming, as he’s leaning against the tree he reminds you of the apple that attracted Eve. 

“I can’t,” you tell him, slapping his hand away when he wiggles his fingers to you, “I’m grounded.”

“You can’t, or you won’t?” he asks, and you roll your eyes at him when he says, “because you have your legs and you have a free will, so I think you can but you just won’t.”

“JJ I’m literally grounded, and mom comes to check my room every five minutes so if she sees me gone I will be grounded until the day I die,” you argue, JJ laughs and you feel your heart flutters at the sound of his chuckle, “I think you’re being dramatic.”

“I’m serious, please,” you plead, “if my mom saw you here she’d kill me first and then kill you.” and then you try to loosen his grip on the windowsill, “I think you’re gonna kill me first!” he says loudly, and you instantly let go of him as you cover your face, afraid that your mother heard him shouting downstairs. 

But all you can hear is the muffled noise of the television, “come on cupcake, I bet she’s already sleeping, and I will drop you off before she even wakes up.”

“Yeah well, you told me that yesterday and I woke up at John B’s couch, and to a million calls from my parents.” You replied sassily, crossing your arms over your chest and glaring at him. You entirely blamed JJ for your punishment, because if he hadn’t coaxed you into drinking then you wouldn’t have gotten drunk and everyone knew you were a sleepy drunk, and he was an irresponsible drunk so it was easily a recipe for disaster.

You snoozed at John B’s couch, and he thought that he should let you sleep and your parents wouldn’t even realize you were gone because he would drop you at home early in the morning like he always does.

“This time it wouldn’t happen, scout’s honor.” he says, tapping his chest and you can’t help the smile stretching on your lips at his actions. 

“If I were to say yes, where are you taking me anyways?” you asked, sitting on the chair by your window. 

Truth to be said, you’ve never cared where he’d take you as long as you were with him. But your fight with your parents earlier, and the punishment you received afterwards slightly worried you. What if he takes you somewhere far away and you don’t get back home in time? If that were to happen, you would never be allowed to see JJ.

He wasn’t even your boyfriend, even though you’ve made out several times, but you were afraid to ask him what you two were because you knew JJ doesn’t do relationships. If you asked him to put a name on what the two of you have, then you’re scared he’d bail.

So, for now you’re content with what you two have.

JJ shrugs, “I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out eventually.” you roll your eyes at his words, then attempt to shut the window, “Then I’m not risking anything, JJ, go home.” He fights your attempt to shut the window, he wins because he’s persistent and you lose because you never actually wanted him to leave.

“I just don’t understand, you’re nineteen, you can do whatever the fuck you want.” he starts his usual argument, and you exhale as you answer with your usual answer, “because I live under their roof and they worry, a lot.”

“They have nothing to worry about though, it’s not like we do drugs or anything.” He says, you can't help but laugh and add sarcastically, “right, all we do is get drunk, smoke weed and skinny dip.”

He smiles, “come on, we don’t do anything wrong.”

“JJ, please.” you plead.

“No, you please. Come join me, I promise no crazy business and I’d have you back in an hour.” He tries, you shake your head despite feeling your heart relenting, but when you imagine your parents’ reaction you build your stubborn walls again. 

“I just don’t understand why your parents don’t like me.” He says with a shrug.

“Because you don’t use the front door, and you take me out during midnight.” you answered instantly. 

“I would say I use the front door pretty frequently,” he says with a wiggle of his eyebrows that makes your face heat up and your heart swoon despite him clearly using a nasty innuendo. If it was anyone else you’d have slapped them, but since it was JJ you laughed and tried to cool your hot face with your cold fingers.

“Come on…” he pleads, and you shake your head. He stares at you with those sapphire blues that captivate you. Neither of you speak, only you drowning into his entrancing gaze.

Then he sighs and nods, “fine,” you feel your heart drop at him giving up despite it being the best outcome. If you were found out, you’d be giving a harsher punishment.

JJ looks defeated for a moment, his shoulders slumping as he lets go of the windowsill. You feel a pang of guilt seeing him like this, but the fear of facing your parents' wrath overpowers it. “Alright, alright,” he mumbles, stepping back from the window. 

“I’ll…” you trail, standing up from the chair and walking away from the window and crossing your arms over your chest tighter, and staring at him, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” 

“Hell yeah you are.” He says, and you grin but your smile turns into confusion when he looks like he’s about to jump from the branch to your window. Your lips are frozen with shock, and you’re stunned when he actually manages to bounce from the tree and then inside your bedroom.

He walks towards you, his signature smirk on his lips and his big warm hands rest on your cheeks, “you thought I would just leave that easily, cupcake?”

You want to yell at him, and tell him that he’s fucking crazy for even thinking he can stay with you in your bedroom. If your mother saw him, then you could only kiss your freedom goodbye. But the magnetic pull he has on you. Despite the chaos he brings into your life, there's a thrill in being with him that you can't resist, and the only thing you could do is try to fight your growing smile but failing miserably.

You know you look crazy as you’re smiling and hissing at him, “JJ, are you insane?! What if my mom catches you in here?!” 

He grins, completely unbothered, and wraps his left arm around your waist, his right hand still cupping your cheek. “Then you’re gonna have to hide me, but I’m sure we can manage, what's the worst that could happen? It’s not like she would kill me or anything.”

You huff a laugh, but there's no denying the truth in his words. There's something intoxicating about JJ's carefree spirit, his ability to turn even the most mundane moments into adventures. 

He’s the devil, you think, or the most tempting sin ever. You lightly push against his chest, trying to create some distance between you two. “JJ, this is a terrible idea. You can't just waltz into my room like it's no big deal.”

He chuckles, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your cheek. “Come on, cupcake, where's your sense of adventure? Life's too short to play by all the rules.”

Your eyes narrow at him, but you can't deny the fluttering feeling in your stomach. “My mom would kill me if she found you here.”

He presses a quick, sweet kiss to your forehead. “Then let's not get caught.”

As he pulls away, you can't help but sigh. JJ’s presence is a whirlwind of excitement and trouble, and though you know better, you find yourself giving in to his charm. The thought of spending the night sneaking around with him is both thrilling and terrifying.

He glances around your room, his eyes settling on the open window. “I would offer to go back out if it makes you feel better, but I’m afraid you’d say yes so I wouldn’t.” he smirks.

You shake your head, a mix of frustration and amusement in your voice. “You're unbelievable, JJ. Fine, but you have to be quiet and stay out of sight. If my mom finds you, I'm blaming this entirely on you.”

He grins, taking your hand. “Deal, cupcake.”

Slapping his chest, “I hate it when you call me that.” and you try to make space between you both, but he’s stronger and more stubborn than you, the space you make is insignificant. 

“Why not? You taste sweet just like frosting of one.” He whispers against your lips, leaning down to kiss you daringly, and slowly. Your heartbeat is fast, and then it completely drops to your pussy at his dirty words and his slow kissing. 

You manage to gather enough willpower to push him away, panting slightly as you scold him. “JJ, we need to be quiet, remember?” He holds both of your hands by your wrists, bringing them to rest on his chiseled chest, he pushes you towards your bed.

“No,” he says and interrupting himself to kiss your lips, “No,” he repeats and this time he kisses your neck and your jaw slacks at the crazy sensation, “You need to be quiet.” He whispers hotly against your ear, and you actually have to hold onto his shirt to stabilize yourself or your jelly-like legs would expose how weak he makes you feel.

The hand on your cheek slides down to your neck, down your shoulder and then finally to your boobs. He holds a handful and squeezes them, you bite your neck to not moan loudly. You struggle to keep your eyes open, and you’re painfully aware of your unlocked door.

“JJ, the door.” You slur, his kisses lowering down to your cleavage, and when he bites the mound of fat on your chest you stifle a low moan with the back of your palm. But you lose your balance when he pushes you to your bed, you gasp at the drop and watch him with hungry eyes take off his shirt and toes off his shoes. 

He climbs over your body, and rids you of your own shirt, and doesn’t bother with breaking off the distance in order to take off your bra, he only pushes the cups under your breasts. Then lowers his head to swirl his tongue around your hard nipples. You shut your eyes, relishing in the feeling of his soft, hot and wet mouth around your nipple, he pinches the other one making you bite your tongue to stifle your noises.

Then he bites your nipple and you squeak, “JJ!” you hiss and pull his hair back but this only makes him more riled up. His hand travels down your chest, and then unbuttons your shorts, struggling to reach behind your thongs but when he does he easily finds the source of wetness.

His middle and ring finger slip in the parting of your pussy, then between the hot wet folds. He moans against your tits, making your body outstretch against his. You feel his hard cock prod the inside of your thigh when he comes to kiss your lips. 

“You’re always so fucking wet for me, do I turn you on that much, cupcake?” he whispers against your lips.

You reach for his clothed cock, groping the hardness and whispering back, “what about you, always thinking of fucking me that you get hard isntantly?” You feel his lips stretching in a smile against your own.

“Is it so wrong? Look at you, can’t believe the hottest girl in obx lets me fuck her whenever I want.” He says, his fingers parting your folds and going up and down over your clit. Your eyes instantly close at the sensation, feeling yourself grow wetter. 

“Do your parents know you let me fuck whenever I want?” he asks against your lips. You bring him to kiss you so you can moan freely against his mouth, you feel your mixing saliva dripping down your mouth. 

“I think if they knew they would hate me even more,” he says, his fingers prodding to go inside your cunt. You gasp at the sensation, but you feel more slickness seeping out of your pussy and it’s embarrassing the way your pussy makes noises in the quietness of your bedroom. 

“If you knew what I think of when I see you, I don’t think you’d go anywhere with me at midnight.” He whispers, his fingers coming out to stroke your wet clit, you feel your heart going faster. “Do you trust me this much? Letting me take you anywhere and letting me fuck you anywhere?” he kisses you, and you feel your walls tightening around his fingers.

The coil in the depth of your stomach feels like it’s getting tighter at everything he’s doing to you, at how he’s making you feel. 

“I can feel you getting tighter, are you going to cum?” he asks, whispering lowly and hotly in your ear and parting to stare into your eyes. Your voice betrays you, and you know if you speak you would only moan and whine, so you only nod whining lowly.

“You’re going to cum around my fingers? Please, I want to feel you cum around my fingers, please, baby?” he is basically pleading, at his last words the coil snaps and your vision turns white, he kisses you to muffle your moans.

His tongue twisting around your own and sucking your saliva, your hips buck against his hand as you’re riding out your orgasm. He doesn’t stop even when you’ve finished cumming, and only does that when you’re whining at him to stop with how overstimulated you were getting, your body jerking against his.

Embarrassingly, his fingers slip out of your pussy with a loud ‘pop’ that makes your face turn hot and makes his smirk widen, he brings his fingers to his mouth while maintaining eye contact with you. 

Your jaw slacks at the scenery, his pupils blown wide against his baby blue irises, and his cheeks flushed. 

He’s so beautiful, everything about him is magnetic. His tousled hair and rogue smirk only add to the allure. A walking embodiment of charisma, JJ’s heat is undeniable, a blaze impossible to resist.

“Let me give you a taste of your sweet pussy.” He states, and before you could respond he leans down to kiss you hungrily and passionately, it’s messy and sweet and overwhelming. Just like him. 

You’re the one that breaks the kiss, turning to the side to breathe in oxygen sharply. He lays on his side, staring down at you as you look back at him. Your smile widening at his infectious one.

JJ fixes your messed up hair strands, tucking them behind your ear and grinning. Resting on his elbow and looking down at you, then his hands travel to your exposed tits, meaning to cover them but not before pinching your nipples making you whine and slap his chest. 

He laughs, then when you look decent, he asks, “so, when are you going to ask me to be your boyfriend?” His laughter still lingers in the air, a playful melody that resonates. You raise an eyebrow, feeling your heart picking up its pace at your surprise by his candid question. “Boyfriend? JJ, you want to be…” you trail off, feeling your face grow hot at his question, his teasing smirk fueling the warmth. “Yeah, I mean, we’re practically inseparable, right?” JJ’s gaze holds a glint of sincerity beneath the playful facade. Your heart wavers between uncertainty and excitement. “I just never thought you were the type to do relationships, plus you’ve never asked to be my boyfriend” you admit, a smile tugging at your lips.

Then you wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him to kiss him, he kisses back with the same level of devotion, if not more. 

When you break the kiss you kiss his cheek, he parts away just a little to look into your eyes, “Can I be your boyfriend?”

A mixture of emotions swirl within you– uncertainty, excitement, and a tinge of fear. JJ Maybank, the perpetual rebel, is asking for something beyond the usual thrill seeking adventures. It’s a side of him you hadn’t anticipated, and yet, it feels like a natural progression.

“I would love it.” You answer.

JJ’s grin widens, and he pulls you into a tight embrace, as if sealing the deal. “Well, then, consider it official, cupcake.”

[kelppsstuff]

Reading your recent post actually made me tear up, in public of all places, I want to give the two of em some.. uh.. comfort

New resident in Charlie's hotel! Who might it be?

Well, since sir pentious can rise, another can go down, right?

Let's say that the reader might've killed one demon before when she joined them in their exterminations

It makes me wonder so damn bad what'll lute and Adam react when they see this demon, the painstakingly similar in body, height, physique darling who, even when damned to hell, still kept her sweetheart personality

This is to soothe the sadness I felt from reading that

“I’m so fucking sorry!” Part two

Part One | Part Two

Masterlist

Warnings: mentions of death.

Summery: After you die for Lute and Adam they find how your reborn a sinner.

Taglist: @lutesb1tch @strawberryclumsy @fandomsbookclub @adamsfavoritesinner @mimmieme

When you died you didn’t expect for you to be reborn a sinner. You had lived an after-life of pure righteousness. The only thing you had ever done was defend yourself and accidentally killed a sinner. So to say you were shocked was an understatement.

You wanted to see Adam and Lute again, but you knew how they felt about sinners. Would they just toss you aside?

You knocked of the newly build hotel, nervous. The door opened and the Princess opened the door. She immediately knew who you were. You looked the same besides slightly larger black wings and the horns on your head. “I had no where else to go.” You voice small and timid.

You waited for her to slam the door in your face but instead she smiled brightly. “I’m so happy you’re okay! I felt so sorry about you death. And some how I even felt sorry for Adam.” She mumbled the last sentence but I still caught it. Adam.

He hated sinners the most. Sure Lute could maybe get behind the fact your one now but she had known Adam longer. Would she choose him over you. If it came down to a choice you’d want her to choose him, so neither of them stayed alone.

“Can I stay for a bit?”

The princess hugged you and showed you around.

—

You had spent the next month getting situated. You found it hard to look in the mirror. You looked so different. A new feature that you had was fangs. They slightly stuck out every now and then. But you noticed when you got mad they’d grow along with your horns.

Today was the same as every other. Wake up, clean around the bar, show sinners to there rooms, go to sleep. Though as you were looking down at the room booking book you heard a voice. A very familiar voice.

“Room for two.”

Adam. You looked up in shock and saw him there Lute right by him. You could see the glare in his eyes.

Adam hadn’t recognized you. But the woman beside him did immediately. Lute felt a sense of happiness wash over her as she saw you. She didn’t care about your new look. All she cared about was that you were here.

The two originally came to completely destroy the hotel and every time they’d rebuild it they wanted to tear it down again.

“A-Adam.” You turned your head to Lute tears of joy and shock in your eyes. “Lute.” Lute gave you the brightest smile you ever saw and was quick to jump over the desk, hugging you.

Adam at first was about to question the hell out of Lute. But when your voice replayed in his head he felt the weight on his chest lift. Was it really you? Did god hear his pleas? “Y/N?” Adam asked, he had to be sure, if this was some joke he’d tear down heaven and hell both.

You looked up over Lutes shoulder and smiled nervous at him. “Hi Adam.” He could hear the nerves in your voice but he didn’t give a shit.

He — just like Lute — jumped over the table and hugged you both. You could feel the breath leaving your body as they started to held you too tight. But you didn’t pull away, finally happy, finally with them. Your heaven. “I missed you guys.” You said to the two. Voice full of love.

“Fuck, I can’t believe you died on us. That totally did not rock.” Leave it to Adam to make his two girls laugh.

Adam felt joy, it had been the first time Lute laughed since the incident. Adam always tried to crack a joke to make her smile, but it was always dimmed.

“I’m a sinner now.” You were scared. This was the moment you were prepared for them to turn their backs on you. But you should have known better, they’d never turn their backs on their sun.

“We couldn’t care less.” Lute pulled away from the hug and cupped you cheek, leaving a friendly kiss on your lips. “Yeah listen to her hot stuff.” Adam spoke and he kissed your other cheek.

Finally with the people who you belonged with.

—

Over the next course of months Adam and Lute would visit you. They talked to Sera and gave the okay on the Hotel. But even if Sera said no, they’d still visit you and every now and then bring a certain snake occasionally.

They two angels had started to noticed you avoiding mirrors and when you saw one you’d just stare at yourself until someone pulled you away.

They watch you look at you reflection out the window. The two sat on your bed, staring at you worried.

Adam was the first to speak, filling the silence in the room. “You okay babe?”

We’re you okay? You didn’t know.

Nothing about you was okay anymore, so you thought. Your white pure angelic wings were now tarnished in black. You’d lost your halo. Nothing about that was okay. But you’d put on a show for them.

“I’m okay, Adam.” You’d never really called Adam and Lute by their names unless you were worried. You’d call Adam, apple and Lute, wild girl. “No your not.” Lute said in her knowing voice. You sighed, you can’t really hide anything from them can you?

“I’m hideous. I’m a sinner, I should be holy and yet I’m a monster.” You could feel the tears looking at your words.

“Your not a monster.” Lute tried to comfort you.

“LOOK AT ME!” You turned to them, horns bigger than normal, fangs longer, eyes glowing red. “This is who I am now!” “And I love you just the same.” She spoke as she made her way to you. Adam unusually quiet.

“How could you love me, when I don’t even love myself?”

Adam shook his head in disbelief at your words. He got off the bed and made his way to you. Cupping your cheeks and looking tenderly into your eyes he spoke. “You should know better than anyone that loving someone isn’t a choice, it’s a gift. You loved me at my worse, of course we would love you through hell and back.” He leaned down and placed a familiar kiss onto your lips. He wrapped an arm around your neck and his other around Lute, pulling you all into a comforting hug.

Maybe, maybe everything would be okay. And maybe Adam and Lute really did love you still.

Who are we kidding, let’s stop with the maybes. They loved you more than ever.

—

HI I’m sorry if this was a bit short, but i hope it brought you the comfort you wanted! Thank you for liking this little journey with Adam, Lute, and Reader. Have a great day! 💛

And a little extra!

You smiled as you squeezed Lutes hand. She had done so good bringing a little girl into the world.

Adam cut the umbilical cord while you took care for of Lute. Adam looked up to you smiling and gestured for you to come to him. “I’ll be right back you wild girl.” You whispered to Lite and walked over to Adam. You looked at the crying baby, she looked just like her dad ironically. “Hold her.” Adam whispered to you. You turned to him in shock. What? You would have thought Adam would want to be the first person to hold his daughter. “Go on.”

You picked her up and started to rock her, bringing her over to Lute, Adam putting his hands on your shoulders lovingly, before giving a kiss to Lute.

Lute cried while she held her baby. Adam crying as well, and gosh you were practically sobbing in happiness.

Some would think you’d be jealous over the two, but that wasn’t the case. You all loved each other equally and you would love that kid as if she were your own. “What’s her name?” The only thing the two had held off on telling you. You didn’t know why, but you were excited to hear what to call the little chipmunk.

Adam and Lute looked to each-other smiling before turning there heads to you.

“Y/N.” The two spoke together and you swore your heart stopped. “What?”

“Y/N. After the person to show us what heaven really is.” Tears flew down your face as you all FOUR hugged.

When little Y/N turned 1, you had been pregnant with two twins on the way. This is what a happy ever after really is. You all three though as you watched Little Y/N playing in the sand. Adam and Lute holding your belly.

—

THANK YOU FOR THE IDEA! This was such a cute scene to write! 💛

Taglist

[evil-youth-messrs]

Okay so here's the list of moments in EPIC: the musical (in order) that make me go feral. Believe it or not, I tried to keep it as short and concise as possible but the albums are just too good.

The Troy Saga 💙

*tudududu dum tum tum tum tum*

PENELOPEEEE

who was that *CAWWWW* 🦅🦅

thisisthesonofnoneotherthan ~troooy's~ veryown prince hec!tor!

but when!? does a comet become a meteor??? (both solo and ensemble versions)

six! hundred! men

and ithaca's waiting, my kindom is waiting, PENELOPE'S WAITIIIING for meeee

my second iiin commaaand

we're up, we're off and away we go (again both versions)

I'm fiiiiiiine, Polites 🙄

stay back!!! (lotus eaters: stay back~~)

you can relax my friend

*the intro and pianooo for warriors of the mind*

HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN THE LESSONS I THAUGHT YOUUU

LET ME REMIND YOU

one day a boy came! for the thrill! a boy whose mind rivaled the boar's own wiiiiiiill

LET'S GO !!

*the entire chorus*

NAAAAAH DON'T BE MODEST, I KNOW YOU'RE A GODDESS

you are ~ATHEEENAA~ (*the growl* !!!)

if you're LOOking for a mentor, I'll make sure your time's well spent

*the chorus when they both sing*

*honestly every single line in this song*

The Cyclops Saga 👁

*the water droplets sound at the beginning*

loook at all this foood 😃

my name is nooooooobody, nooooooobody, noOoOoOoOoOobody

I'm so glad we see eye to eye

show me how. greatisyourwilltoSURVIIIIIIIVE

six hundred liiiives at stake

*how the guitar fades in in remember them*

what do we do with our fallen friends? *silence* remember them

*athena's piano and clock ticking*

HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN! THE LESSONS! I THAUGHT YOU ??

he's still a threat! until he's DEEEEAAAAD

HEY, CYCLOPS!

remember them remember us REMEMBER ME

I'M THE REIGNING KING OF ITHACA I AM NEITHER MAN NOR MYTHICAAAL IIII AM YOUR DARKEST MOMENT I AM THE INFAAAMOUUUS. odysseus!

this way! you won't disappoint me, this way! you won't waste my time, thiiis waay

slefish and prideful and vain 🙄

YOU'RE NOT LOOKING FOR A MENTOR I'M NOT LOOKING FOR A FRIEND I MISTOOK YOU FOR A GENERAL WHAT A WASTE OF EFFORT SPENT

at least I know what I'm fighting for while you're fighting to be known

YOU'RE ALONE !!!

but not today for after all you're JUST A MAAAN

this day! you SEVER your own head, this day! you CUT the liiine

The Ocean Saga 🌊

*trumpetttt*

these ~waves~ and ~tides~

is it nature? or diviiiine?

COMRADES

full spead aHEAD TOWARDS THE ISLAND

an island in the sky 🤩

we're in the home of the ✨️wind god✨️ we don't know for sure how many floating islands have you seen before??

captain HOW? much longer til your luck. runs. out.

you rely on wit and people die on it

I took six hundred men to war! and not one of them died there. in case you needed a reminderr.

woooaahoookayyy? okay. thank you🙄

*ambient intro to keep your friends close*

*growly hahahas*

KEEP YOUR FRIENDS CLOSE AND YOUR ENEMIES CLOSER

if they wanna get the bag open you gotta say no sirrr.

open the bag, let's see what you got. NO! DO! NOT!

see how this bag is closed that's how it's supposed to be

I'm getting closer to youuuu (PENELOPEEE)

JUST KEEP YOUR EYES OPEN

wake up! wake up! odysseus, they're opening the bag WAKEEE UUUUP!

STOOOOfullOOOOspeedOOOOOaheadOORM

OOOOOOOOODYSSEUS OF ITHACAAAAA do you know who I am?

PO SEI DON PO SEI DON PO SEI DON poseidon 😨

I try to chill~ with the waves

*THE GROWLY VOCALS*

that's right the cyclops you made blind. is mine. NO

the pack of wolves is swimming with the shark now

RuThLeSsNeSs is MERCY upon ourselves

you 🫵 are the worst kind of good cause you're NOT. EVEN. GREAT!

a greek. who reeks. of false righteousness that's what I HATE

I mean you totally could've avoided all this had you just. killed. my. son. but nOoOu💅

it's the final crack we're 'bout to break the ice now

CAPTAIN! CAPTAIN! CAPTAIN! CAPTAIN!

when does a ripple become a tidal wave?

*somebody stop me I just wrote every line of this song*

Click here for The Circe Saga 🐷

If you read all of that, thank you and honestly WOW.

[hadesoftheladies]

“that’s just war” is what i keep getting told. women get raped and butchered? that’s just war. children get bombed and buried? that’s just war. when i read stories of the hamas hostages and the frustration and pain of jewish families caught up in the war, what do online politics offer? “that’s just war.” that’s just the price of resistance. when i tell my dad while watching the news on palestine “thousands more children were bombed by israeli forces this week” all he can say is “that’s just war.” if a man pointed a gun at you wouldn’t you want to have a gun, too?

were the allied soldiers better than the nazis? depends on who you ask. they bombed, raped, sabotaged the planes of women in their own army. nazis were terrible. did that make allied soldiers saints? we weep for the mass graves in 20th century concentration camps across the world. then when we grow up we learn that those black and white photos were actually grey all along. the victims had also victimized others. male prisoners could rape as the soldiers did.

“ignore war men will be men” some women say. “they’ll find a way to keep killing each other. let them have at it.” is it feminist action to bask in our own self righteousness as women? do people sleeping while sirens go off in their city have any choice other than to wake up and run? can they ignore such a thing?

where should i stand? will the white women online help me if their president ordered a siege of my country? my country’s history is riddled with blood. the resistance gave me freedom. I can walk on my own land. go to school and own a car. I can dress myself without dressing a white mistress first. I can farm for myself and not for some smelly englishman. that’s good, isn’t it? but they also killed scores of setttlers, the resistance. they raped white women and girls. slaughtered white children and dumped their bodies in pits for their husbands and fathers to find. wasn’t that bad? but wasn’t it the black kikuyu children and women that bent their backs over white fields? wasn’t it the white people who put them in camps and exacted harsh curfews. didn’t white men shove broken glass up black detainee’s private parts? which white women came to free them? didn’t they laugh at the same racist jokes as their husbands did? didn’t she smile and pour tea for him as he told her about work? didn’t she love having such a wide sprawling estate? wasn’t that bad?

“so you stand with the evil black men that raped white women just because they could? you think their rape served a purpose?” no, but— “so you stand with white women who were okay ordering your people to be shipped, slaughtered and starved?” no! these questions are like asking me which bullet i’d prefer to be shot with. the answer is i don’t want to die. i am not comforted by the rape of women or by the enslavement of my people. why would either be something i want?

what this all is, ultimately, is a question the entitled never like to hear. in regard to the oppression of women by men, blacks by whites, the indigenous by the colonial, the one question at the heart of it all is this:

who has the right to self defense?

why is the woman that killed her rapist jailed? why is the slave that killed his master himself killed? by what means and to what extent do we rule an act of violence as self-defense or something monstrous?

the answer is even more uncomfortable: to the extent that we view the aggressor as human.

it’s not an answer that really solves anything. it doesn’t change what happens in war. it won’t stop any war.

but in these scenarios, my way has been to accept that there is rarely such a thing as moral purity in a human, and for this reason, our default attitude may need to be humility, the acceptance that we can be hypocrites. that we aren’t exempt from tragedy or more special than another life. that we’re as alike as we are different, even if we may not be equally guilty of certain acts. because if we are open to the humanity and dignity of the life of others (and I do extend this to animals as well, because they have the capacity to suffer and the will to live), we are bound to be less prone to repeat the cruelties we decry.

and maybe that’s more of a solution than a neat, easy answer or a casual dismissal like “that’s just war” might be.

[demaparbat-hp]

I can definitely see a version of katara, a couple years after sokka goes off with their dad, watching her tribe struggle for resources, first being overjoyed to welcome this air nomad, somebody around her age and also trying to save whats left of their culture in the fire nation’s wake, and then so betrayed when he’s (in her eyes) suddenly the reason they’ve all been suffering for so long, the reason she doesn’t know whether her brother and father are alive or not.

And then zuko coming along, not only with a tangible plan to stop the war and help her family, but also a way *out*. She loves her tribe and would do anything for them, but she’s also a teenager that feels so angry, so alone and helpless, and can only see a future where she lives and dies on this small patch of ice, feeling the pull of the moon but being too busy, too tired, too ignorant to heed its call. Of course its the scariest thing she’s ever done. I bet she deals with nightmares after the righteousness wears off and it sinks in what shes signed up for, the last waterbender of the southern water tribe on a metal fire nation boat. But if katara does anything its buckle down and commit.

I would love to know how zuko even gets into a position to have a conversation with katara and tell her his plan. What is their first meeting like, to not only divulge that, but want her on his crew? Do the two of them do their best to teach her waterbending; does uncle iroh help? I can only imagine watching katara struggle but keep on getting up to try the forms again and again brings back some of his own memories learning bending (i love your art, i love all the details about this au and all the others youve dropped, thank you for sharing even when people are dicks)

You have put this into words much better than I ever could. Her journey, her development and what drove her to make the decision to leave it all behind.

Zuko is a different person in this AU, and has had different experiences. He respects their village's boundaries, and comes in a small ship with two unmasked members of his crew, a man and a woman. He introduces himself in the way of the Water Tribe (I am Zuko, son of Ursa—no father, only his mother's name when it should have come last), and asks for permission to stay in their lands as his ship is repaired. Away from the village, where their presence wouldn't be a burden or a threat, and they could be easily forgotten or watched.

Katara is the only person to look him directly in the eye and, when she goes to where his ship is docked late at night and threatens to end his life if he so much as lights a fire in the direction of the village, he doesn't dismiss her fury or her capabilities. He smiles instead, eyes old and tired. I can end you, right here, right now, she says. I know, he answers. I know.

Days pass, Aang has been making himself scarce and the Prince has kept to his word. He doesn't ask for anything, he isn't seen unless someone from the village goes to stand watch, and he looks at her with something akin to respect.

Then, a few days after his arrival, Zuko asks for an audience with the village's mathriach and her family. He isn't surprised when Katara is there, and he addresses her directly, as if her opinion is something to value.

He hasn't been entirely honest, he says, with the countenance of someone about to play it all in a move that could earn him either victory or defeat. His ship needed repairs and he was closer to their shores than Earth Kingdom land, this is true. But it was so because the person he was chasing after had damaged his ship and, according to maps and calculations and sheer dumb luck, the only place they could have run to was here, in the Southern Water Tribe.

But why would he chase someone like that?

To return home. To earn back the rights to challenge his father for the throne, and end the war.

Why do such a thing?

For his mother. For his sister and uncle. For the world.

Why tell them this?

Because they had a right to know, since the person he was after was right here, right now.

Who?

The Avatar.

Who?

The airbender.

(Later, after Aang abandoned them again, Katara approached the Prince and offered herself to him. She knew the Avatar, she said. She was a waterbender and could help them in the seas. She was the Sea Wolf's daughter, and could ensure an alliance. She needed a way out. He accepted.)

[paloma-ascends-into-hellfire]

Moments in Epic that live in my head rent free (in order cuz i'm cool like that)

"Nestor, secureHelenandprotecther"

"Penelope... Penelope... and Telemachus... I fight for us, I fight for us"

"But when does a comet become a meteor? When does a candle become a blaze? When does a man become a MONSTER? "

"Forgive me"

"Six hundred men. Six hundred men under my command with only one goal in mind: make it back alive to our homeland"

"We're up, we're off, and away we go!"

"I see in your face, there is so much guilt inside your heart" [rip Polites]

The entirety of "Warrior of the Mind"

"You killed my sheep. My favourite sheep. What gives you this right to deal a pain so deep? Don't you know pain you sow is pain you reap?"

"My name is Nobody, Nobody, Nobody"

"Yes, you shall be the final man to die." "Wh-what? ...WATCH OUT!"

"Six hundred LIIIIVES at stake. It's just one LIIFE to take! And when we kill him then our jouurneyy's oooverrr. No dying OOOON us now. Defeat is NOOOT allowed!"

Like all of "Remember Them" but especially "They will not DII-EY-EYE IN VAIN! Remember them!"

"Who hurts you?" "It was Nobody, Nobody" "If nobody hurts you, be silent." "Don't go!"

"I am the reigning king of Ithaca. I am neither man nor mythical. I am your darkest moment. I am the infamous... ODYSSEUS!"

All of "My Goodbye"

"stOoOoOoOOOoooOoOoOrm!"

"at this rate we won't make it out aliive!"

"How much longer till our luck runs out?"

"you rely on wit, and people die on it, whoa-whoa."

"Hahaha! I am the wind, twisting and turning!"

"keep your friends close and your enemies closer (never really know who you can trust)"

"Everything's changed since Polites" [not the NAMEDROP]

"Just keep your eyes open..."

"Wake up! Wake up, Odysseus, they're open the bag, wake UUUUP!"

"I said to keep the bag closed, but you weren't compliant. If I had to guess, you're headed to the land of the giants!"

"OOOOODYSSEUS OF ITHACA! Do you know who I am?"

"but damn, you crossed a liIiIiIne."

"You are the worst kind of good cuz you're NOT EVEN GREAT! A greek who reeks of false righteousness, THAT'S WHAT I HATE!"

"Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves! OURSELVES!"

"Ruthlessness is mercy-" "Die."

"ALL I GOTTA DO IS OPEN THIS BAG" "what."

[mlarty]

About Marrow's resistance and choices

Marrow resists Bhaal and her Dark Urge nature. Yeah, we know we draw her as if she is evil, but no, guys, she has her own way. And not like noble and good way, the resistance works really badly for her actually. In our headcanon, despite all attempts, she sometimes loses control, commits hidden and open murders, waking up in unfamiliar places far from her camp, naked and covered in blood, with the taste of meat in her mouth. Alfira was not her last victim. Yes, Marrow did not kill "plot-important characters," but the price was just random victims. Innocent and defenseless victims. Sometimes, her Urge is so powerful that she becomes a risk to even her allies in battle, and Slayer's form in her story is not a reward, but a curse — a form in which she loses all control and attacks everything around her. In the game, it would look like random checks during and outside of combat

On top of all this, she's got headaches, insomnia, constant hunger, nausea, twitches, and other unpleasant effects to deal with…. This girl lives in angst :’)

And all this struggle isn't for the sake of heroic deeds or moral righteousness. Her morals are rather gray and questionable, but what she really desires is freedom. Be yourself. Be the person she was in some distant past that she can't remember, before she became the Dark Urge. That's her wish for Astarion too — he doesn't need to be anything more to be strong. And that's why she supported him to abandon the ritual. They're both still little monsters, but monsters don't mean evil

Marrow was on the Druids side. It's hard to call it a choice. Tbh, she almost refused to help them and would have preferred not to waste time on conflict, but pressure from Karlach and Wyll convinced her not to lose good allies. Her reputation in Act 1 is absolutely terrible and hardly anyone really believes her, so she didn't want them to turn against. Besides, goblins were too nasty to her and didn't seem to be the ones who could help. And… you know it's too hard to resist to stop killing them lol

And we both play! More precisely, one is playing and the other is watching. But we make decisions and choose dialogues together

[glitchydyke]

es is literally such an insane concept for a character btw like... what do you do when you’re not yourself? when you’ve never been yourself? you wake up in this place, this twisted labyrinth full of music and murderers, and you’re told you’re there to judge. you, 15 years old, scared and alone and confused, are there to decide the fates of people you’ve never even met. but what can you do? you can’t run. you can’t leave. so you play along, you meet the prisoners, you talk to them. it’s difficult - some barely talk to you, others try their hardest to make you bleed. you listen to them sing about the tragedies that have befallen them, you watch them relive the lowest points of their lives and smile at you with bared fangs, and you tell them whether they deserve to live or die. and it all feels far away. why does it feel far away? these people are hurting, they’re risking death at your hands, and you can barely bring yourself to feel. your head feels full of static. full of noise. full of voices. you make the decision, and your hands don’t feel your own. the words of one of the prisoners has stuck with you all this time, even as you’ve watched her descend into a strange, cruel righteousness. they’re your own thoughts, you know. your hands shake with it. why are you treating them like they’re somebody else’s? your head spins, twisting and turning. hey, prison guard, when you say “i…” who are you talking about?” …god, you don’t know. everything you’ve done, everything you’ve said, every judgement you’ve passed with a barely shaking voice, have they ever even been your own? have you ever been your own? what about you is real, and what’s just a defence mechanism crafted to keep you safe? can you feel the threads around your wrists, pulling you along? when you take a step, is it by your own free will? innocent, guilty, forgiven, unforgiven, life, death. did you ever make these choices? have your hands killed just as much as theirs? does it even matter? it’s time for another song.

[thoughtsfromlayla]

My Dearest Defiance

Summary:  Equal as an Endless, more than a human, yet less than a god. Where did you even belong? The question has haunted you since you first saw humanity rise into power. Now your brother has been kidnapped and you can't do anything to help him.

Notes: ~7.5k words, This fic is a follow-up to this post sent in by the lovely @kpopgirlbtssvt, thank you so much for the idea! I took a few liberties with the plot and I hope that's okay with you!

Warnings: Platonic! Big Brother x little sister! Reader, *side eyes* a lot of angst, violence, physical abuse, heavy mentions of cancer, implied alcohol consumption, minor Dreaming mind-fuckery, death of Reader (you come back...ish), death of characters, comfort in the end :)

Masterlist

Mother Night and Father Time, the first lovers, the everlasting lovers. And it was through their love that the Endless were born. Your eldest brother Destiny came first, birthed in dark cloaks and the book that was named after him. He is in charge of the fate of every being to live. 

Every being who has lived must follow the path of this fate and fate always ends in Death, your eldest sister. When Mother and Father realized that the humans must do something while waiting for Death, they birthed your favorite brother, Dream. He is hope, the one who gives the humans courage to stand up for themselves and make do with their lives. Soon, humans wanted more and in succession, the rest of your siblings were born: Destruction, Desire, Despair, and sweet Delight soon to be Delierum. 

While every Endless was busy tending to their own realms and their own duties, you were born. Endless in name but not in power. You were the runt of the family, with no realm to call your own, and no responsibilities of your own. Yet here you stood amongst the humans that soon called you Defiance, the human spirit, the resilience to continue despite all odds. 

You’re sure your siblings knew of you, certainly enough to be invited to family dinner once every 100 years. Yet you could never shake the feeling of inadequacy when you were sat at the far end, only to be over-talked by everyone. They were discussing important matters, after all, nothing that you had to concern yourself with. 

You only find solace in Dream, where no matter how difficult the days get, you may always find a home in his realm. While he is adamant about letting you stay in the castle, you find it more comfortable to live in a cottage at the edge of the realm where the forest meets with the vast unknown and you grow vegetables from the soil you tow. It also allows you to escape to the waking world without Dream knowing.

You love humans, their lives fascinate you to no end. They know of you, just as they know of all of your Endless siblings, but sometimes it just takes a little more for them to realize. You would never push them to admit to your existence and somewhere along the millions of years of existence, you have given up trying to be the center of attention. 

To understand humans is to live like them, talk like them, and love like them. Unfortunately, humans are more than that and often succumb to feelings of anger, depression, righteousness, and violence. You try not to associate yourself with those emotions, but it’s innate. 

It’s been a few weeks since you stepped foot in Dream’s castle, and who could blame you? The village in which you reside is much more fun than the dreary castle your brother tends to enjoy more. The thick castle wall blocks out the sunlight, it’s filled with dust and smells of wet stones and old books. Not to mention, when Dream was busy, there was no one to talk to. Lucienne was always busy, picking up after her King, and you don’t even want to get started on Mervin. 

He’s only nice to you cause you gave him his pumpkin head when his original turnip head started going out of style. Otherwise, it’s cigar smoke being blown into your face and sassy remarks. 

You’re out in the market square when you feel the presence of your Endless Sibling. You turn from the flower vendor with a big smile and wave at Dream as he makes his way towards you. The dreams that he created step to the side in the presence of their sovereign.

“Brother!” You exclaim when he gets close enough for you, wrapping one of your arms around his while the woven basket hangs in the other. 

The basket was filled with a few apples and a fresh loaf of bread. You were just about to buy a few glass snowdrop flowers before you were pleasantly surprised by Dream. 

“How do you do this afternoon, dear sister?” He speaks, leaning into your face to tease you. 

You giggle at him as the two of you walk the main road, passing dreams and nightmares alike, a few waving at you in greeting that you return.

“I’m doing great. I was thinking of going to the waking world later today and spending some time with Death, actually.” You respond, your arm leaves Dream’s as a different vendor catches your eyes. They were selling acrylic paints in colors that you haven’t seen since half a century ago. 

“Here, hold this,” You say as you hand off your basket to Dream. He does as he’s told and holds the basket, the white paint offputting to his otherwise completely black outfit. 

You grab a few jars of paint and can already think of the wonderful things to draw when you get back into your cottage. There was a specific lake nearby that you haven’t been able to do justice to, but you think you finally can with the new color. 

A brief conversation of exchange happens between you and the vendor before you turn around. You burst out laughing at the sight before you. Dream stood in the middle of the road where you had first told him to hold your basket and hadn’t moved an inch. His shoulders were stiff and taught as he held your basket as far away from his body as possible. 

“It’s not going to bite you, you know!” You practically cackle at him. Your giggles follow you as you carefully place the jars of paint into your basket. You think that you will paint some flowers and ivy onto your basket later tonight. 

You go to take the basket back from him but he’s quick to move it away from your grabby hands. 

“You specified that I should hold it, so hold it I shall,” He says and holds the basket higher, just out of your reach, when you go to grab at it again. 

You huff at his rather stubborn behavior, but he’s been like this since the beginning. He always looks after you and takes care of you. You’re always grateful for it, but you can carry your own basket. You resolve the conversation with a roll of your eyes but the smile on your face stays in place when you turn your back to him. 

Dream walks you home, basket now significantly heavier and full of things you didn’t really need. Well, except maybe the paint, it’s good to splurge every once in a while. Your cottage is basked in a warm light as the Dreaming’s sun slowly disappears beyond the horizon to rise in another universe. The pie you had baked this morning had long since cooled and you brought it inside with a hum, your brother still following you. 

He set the basket on the simple kitchen table before taking a seat and watching you slice up the pie with a smile. You set the pastry down in front of him and another plate for yourself. The savory apple flavoring takes over the senses when you take the first delicious bite. 

“I would like you to come back to the castle soon,” Your brother says as you take another bite. 

“Whatever for?” You question, a little bit of apple filling falling out of your mouth. “The cottage is my home.”

Dream sighs but answers anyway. “I will be gone for a moment, I need to take care of a rouge nightmare,  and would like you to be cared for while I am away from the Dreaming.”

“How long will you be gone for you to want me to live in that dreadful place?” You make a face as you think about the boring days ahead of you. Well, maybe you can escape to the castle garden if Mervin isn’t paying attention. 

“I cannot tell you for I do not know.” 

You purse your lips as you think about his request. “Fine,” You groan. 

“Best not see Sister Death today.” When you don’t bother with a response he speaks against “Farwell, sister. I will be back soon,” He promises you before standing. You didn’t get the chance to follow him to the door before he leaves, his apple pie still untouched. 

“Ugh, how wasteful.” You joke to yourself. 

You spend the rest of your evening painting your basket as you had wanted before packing up a few items for the castle. Your basket was a gift from your brother and had an infinite amount of storage. So you managed to shove an extensive amount of your wardrobe, the paints, and some of the freshly baked pastries into the small wooden thing. You set off when the moon was high in the sky and the stars came down from their afternoon nap and danced in the village square. 

Their stardust shoes clink like pure jade against the cobblestone road, illuminating the otherwise quiet and sleeping town. A few wave  at you, shimmering particles following their movements before they return to their waltz. You wave back to them before continuing on your journey, mindful of where you stepped. 

When stars come down to the Dreaming they become transparent and more gaseous than solid but that doesn’t stop them from burning hot. And unless you wanted to recounter that one time you stepped through one and started sneezing and coughing stardust for the next 10 years, you’ll keep your distance - only allowing for their natural light to guide your way out of the village and towards the castle. 

By the time you reach the castle, Dream is nowhere to be found and you assume he went out to do what he mentioned earlier that day. Your room was set up for you,  Dream obviously had some palace staff tidy up the room as you took a look around the clean environment. Otherwise, everything was in the same place you had left it since the last time you were at the castle. You yawn as you set your basket down by the door. First a good night’s rest, then you can go to the waking world to do your own things. 

You sneak out of the castle a few minutes before dawn, the soft bed and good night’s rest giving you the energy you need to do so. You grimace when the door creaks loudly as you slowly open it, smelling the early morning dew on the grass and the warming dawn wind. 

“Where are you headed, my dear?” A voice stops you in your tracks. You suck your lips into your mouth as you soon recognize the voice. 

“Good morning, Lucienne,” You greet curtly, holding, or rather, hiding, your basket behind your black skirt. 

Lucienne gives you a pointed look. “Yes, good morning.” 

You give her a smile before stepping back out the door, only to be stopped when she purposefully clears her throat. 

“The question?” She presses.

You feign innocence and bat your eyelashes, not that it would work. “What question?”

“Lady Defiance, my Lord specifically states that I keep my eyes on you.” Lucienne holds her hands behind her back as she takes her stance. 

“By all means, keep your eyes - hey what’s that?!” You gawk as you point behind Lucienne. 

Lucienne snaps her head around to look at what you were so surprised by. She doesn’t see or sense anything when she does. It’s about two seconds of her searching before she realizes that she has been duped. When she turns around the door is swinging shut and you are nowhere to be seen. She slams the door open and only sees the last of your figure disappearing on the horizon.

You’re still giggling to yourself about pulling off that little trick when you reach the ocean of the Dreaming. The little wooden dock creaks under your weight as you skip across it. Having done this traveling before, you jump right in with a squeal, holding your nose close so you don’t get any water in. 

The water pushes and pulls but you don’t fight the current knowing that it will take you where you wanted to go. When you emerge, you cough once and the water falls off your body, leaving you dry in cloudy 1916 England. You wrap your blazer closer to your body as the wind picks up and leave the alleyway. The familiar smell of roasted peanuts from street vendors and car fumes tickles your nose when you turn the corner to walk into the hospital. 

“Hi, I’m here to visit Genny, uh, Geniveve, Geniveve Colemen,” You correct yourself to the receptionist. The woman nods and looks down at her computer. 

“She’s in the same room, 443. Here’s your visitor’s pass.” She hands you a laminated badge on a lanyard. 

You thank her before wearing the lanyard and going towards the nearest elevator. The elevator smelled of shoe polish and disinfectant spray and it made your nose crinkle. You just hope the smell doesn’t transfer onto your clothes. 

When you reach your destination, you knock on Genny’s door before entering. She wears her hospital gown and was reading a book when she looks up. A smile pasters onto her face when she sees you.

“Y/N!” She drops her book and sits up straighter. 

“Genny!” You exclaim back with the same amount of excitement. You place your basket by her bed before pulling out a fresh vase of flowers and setting it by her bedside table. 

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever, what have you been up to?” She asks.

“Yeah, my mother took me to some private tutor to help me study for my tests,” You lie through your teeth as you fluff the flowers to make them look more appealing. 

You tuck your school skirt underneath you when you sit down next to Genny and reach for your basket again. “I brought you some homebaked goods. I know this hospital’s food has got to be horrendous.” 

You bring out the baked loaf of bread you bought the day before and rip off a slice for her. She takes the loaf and inhales the scent. 

“Gosh, Y/N, I don’t know how you make such good baked goods. Your husband will be a lucky one if you stop trying to chase them off.” She giggles and muffles through her full mouth. 

You laugh with her, sparing her the details of your actual life. You bring forth the lie you had carefully planted yourself as instead. A straight-A student that goes to the same school as Genny before she was diagnosed with cancer, how you were her best friend that visited her when you got the chance, how you had gotten onto the school council and despite all of her poking and prodding, she would not get to know what the school formal’s dance theme is going to be unless she went with you tomorrow to the dance. You try not to think about how frail she has gotten since the first time you’ve met her. Her collarbones were poking out and you can see how hard it was for her to take even breaths. 

When she asks you again later in the visit about the school dance you rebuttal quickly. 

“Are you going to come to the dance with me?” You laugh. “Speaking of which, I got you a dress, too!” You go back to your basket, pulling out a formal dress, and setting it in front of Genny. 

“Wow! Look at the bead stitching,” She says, running a delicate finger over the beading and gems then over the lacing. 

“I’ve got a good eye, don’t I?” You sit back down with a smile and a tilt of the head. “It matches my dress, too.”

“What about your own date?”

“Oh, please, I don’t have time for boys!” You giggle again, hiding behind the lie that you don’t actually go to her school. 

“Oh alright, I suppose I must go to the dance with you so you won’t be lonely.” Genny surrenders. 

You smile at her, happy she finally agreed. “You’re a great friend.” 

Genny coughs after your compliment and you’re quick to reach for the water and hand it over to her. When she sits up to drink you go to fluff her pillow. Genny lays back down with a sigh and all of the warmth that was in the room leaves through the window. She looks like she’s aged when she looks at you again, another cough crawling its way past her throat. 

“I’ll leave you to rest,” You say, turning around to grab your things. 

“No,” Genny refuses. “Can you stay for a little bit longer?” She coughs again and holds your hand weakly. “I want to feel like a normal girl for a little while longer.”

“Okay,” You whisper and sit back down, feeling the chill of the hospital around your ankles. 

You watch over her as she falls asleep, the conversation taking the last of her energy. You begin to stare off into space, thinking about your life. You did your best with the gift of immortality, but as you stare at Genny’s tense face, you wish you could do more. Equal as an Endless, more than a human, yet less than a god. Where did you even belong? The question has haunted you since you first saw humanity rise into power. 

Your thoughts leave you when you feel the beating of wings and a flush of wind from the door. Your head snaps and you see your sister standing there in her black tank top and the same combats boots you wore. 

“Sister Death,” You greet with a small smile, previous thoughts disappearing. “What brings you here today?” 

Your sister only smiles at you. Your excitement of seeing your sister again is soon taken over by dread. You look between your sister and your friend and the dots connect. 

“Oh... what? No!” You stand abruptly between your sister and Genny. “No! She still has so much to do in life!” You try to reason with her. 

“You cannot bargain with me, Defiance. You know that,” She says in her soft voice. 

“I don’t care,” Your lips form into a line. “At least let her go to the dance with me?” You try one more time. 

Death sighs with exaggeration. “Fine, but not an hour more.” 

“Thanks…” You’re not entirely sure how you managed to pull that off, unbeknownst to you that your sister has a soft spot for you much like Dream. 

Your sister looks you up and down before she leans on the door. “So how are you doing, then?” 

You look off to the side when you answer. “Fine,” You grumble out. 

She lets out a huff, or perhaps a laugh, you can’t really tell. “Would you like to go on a walk with me?”

It was a tempting offer, after all, you haven’t spent time with your sister in a while. You thought about it for a little while longer. “No,” You end up refusing. 

“Genny asked me to stay a little while longer, so I shall.” You turn away from your sister and sit back down in the uncomfortable hospital chair. You keep your head straight, looking after Genny, and don’t take your eyes off her even when you hear your sister departing. 

When she does, a tremble runs over your body. You feel tears prick at your lashline as you come to terms with the fact that your friend will be dying soon. You did your best to prevent the inevitable, but with no powers of your own, it’s only a waiting game now. 

You leave when visiting hours are over, Genny has yet to wake up from her nap. You leave the rest of the loaf on her bedside table, and a slice of your apple pie. You decide to tidy up the room as quietly as you can and hang her dress on the hook that was nailed to the wall. With one final look at her, you leave, only hoping that your sister doesn’t go back on her word and take her before her allotted time. 

You spend the rest of the evening in the waking world, catching up on new things the humans have done with their time. You end your day on a park bench, illuminated only by a single street lamp. The park was quiet, you’re only accompanied by the sound of crickets and the wind along the trees. You take in a deep breath of fresh air. Oh, how you have missed this. If only it was closer to summer vacation, you would’ve taken Genny to the beach and had some sun time with her. 

When you are done relaxing you go to the pond at the center of the park, the fountain in the middle still squirting out water and creating magnificent shapes and splashes along the surface. You could see the stars' reflection rippling as you peer at the lake over a bridge. The wind blows and you close your eyes to savor the moment. 

“I wouldn’t jump if that’s what you’re thinking,” Someone says next to you. 

You open your eyes and turn to see a man standing next to you, no older than 20. He takes off his hat when you speak. 

“I wasn’t, but thank you,” You reply simply and go back to looking out towards the expanding city. He doesn’t leave your side despite your answer and it gets a bit awkward.

“Are you thinking of jumping? Because I would also not recommend that, sir,” You turn to him again and see him laughing. 

“No,” He says. “I am just here to think.”

“Just like me then. What bothers your mortal mind?” You ask. 

“Many things… I’m afraid I have let my family down.” 

“How so?”

“We came here on a boat from the motherland, nothing to our name but a few pennies. I was supposed to go to college and finally put our family on the map. But I failed and now here I am, talking to a stranger on a bridge in the middle of the night.”

You laugh along with him. You knew of him and saw his dreams a few times when you went out exploring in the Dreaming. He wanted to be a doctor, specifically an athletic injuries doctor but failed out of medical school before he even got the chance. You rack your brain to think of his name, and when it comes to you, you speak. 

“Do not worry, Albert Brocken, I’m sure there are many opportunities that will come alight in the near horizon. Perhaps you should take the entrance exam again, and see where it takes you.” You yawn and you realize that you should probably start heading home. 

“Yeah… maybe I should,” He concludes with a sigh. “I think I might go into somnology,” He says more to himself than you. 

“Somnology sounds fascinating,” You agree. “I must go home now, but best of luck to you!” You walk away, your shoes barely audible on the stone bridge over the gushing fountain. Albert doesn’t look your way when you depart, too focused on his new goal in life. 

You find yourself standing before an old winding cottonwood tree in the same park. It’s been here for years, growing into the magnificent tree it is today. It’s passed by thousands of England residents almost every day, yet none of them are willing to stare at it hard enough to realize that the bark of the tree isn’t real. 

You take one last look around the park to make sure no one else sees you before walking straight into the tree, the danging leaves caressing you like a gentle mother’s touch. The trunk of the tree turns into a curtain of falling sand and you pass through with no problems. When you emerge on the other side, the bright moon of the Dreaming greets you, illuminating and basking you in a soft welcome. When you come back into the castle, Lucienne is on top of you like a hot iron. 

“Thank the Gods you are well,” She panics as she holds your arms. After taking a good overall look at you, she wraps her arms around your body and brings you into a hug. 

“Lucienne?” Your question muffled against her crisp uniform. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, my dear, you hadn’t come back all day. I thought perhaps…” She trails off before she takes a breath. “Lord Morpheus hasn’t returned, and neither had you, so I presumed the worst.”

“Morpheus hasn’t returned?”

“No, but you are here. Tell me, did you see him while you were in the waking world today?” Lucienne holds hope in her eyes and you resent the next word you say.

“No,” Your thoughts trailed off. “Morpheus hasn’t returned?” You ask again.

“I am sure there is nothing to worry about. I may just be overthinking is all.” Lucienne reassures you. 

“Okay…” You don’t completely believe her, somewhere deep inside you you can feel that Morpheus is in danger. As the King of Dreams and Nightmares, a rouge nightmare shouldn’t be anything to be worried about. He should be home by now. 

Your eyes close as soon as your head hits the pillow, but thoughts consume you. After the dance tomorrow night with Genny, you will go searching for your brother. The following day came quickly and you paced back and forth in the castle hall, the formal dress you had on jingling with your movements. Your thoughts were in overdrive, there was Morpheus of course, but you also knew that tonight was going to be Genny’s last day. And knowing that puts a weight on your shoulders. You have to make sure that tonight is going to be the best night of her life. 

When the time came, you went to the waking world feeling dolled up and in an antique car with the roof down. Your hair had enough hairspray to survive a storm from Zeus himself. You pull up to the hospital in a screech, Genny already waiting for you in the lobby. You check your lipstick in the mirror one last time before Genny reaches your car. 

“You know how to drive?!” Genny says with a smile and excitement that you found contagious. 

You resecure the silk scarf that protected your hair from the wind and open a pair of sunglasses to put over your eyes. You look at her over the bridge of your nose, your eyes shining past the sunglasses before stepping on the gas pedal.

“I know how to do many things, sweet Genny!” You shout over the wind, pushing the glasses back to their original position. 

Each time you looked over at Genny, her smile still hadn’t faltered and the last bits of the sun’s rays caught on the embroidery of her dress. Her softness brings a smile to your face and for a moment you forget about your brother. 

You pull into the gravel driveway of the school formal’s destination. You had managed to weasel your way into the school council and they were able to get help from the local people. The theme for this year's dance was “A Magical Night” and a local citizen opened his manor to the students for the night. He called himself a mage, something that you rolled your eyes at as magic has been rare in this world since the faeries left it half a century ago. But you kept that to yourself, if he wanted to play make-believe, then so let him. 

Students were already lining up outside the decorated manor when the two of you arrived. You hand your keys off to a valet and walk towards the door, hand in hand with Genny. Her excitement buzzed through her like a shot of tequila. 

When you cross over the threshold of the manor you are genuinely surprised at the decorations of the place. The ballroom had been cleared out and a live band was playing music for students to dance to. There was a bar on the far end of the ballroom serving drinks and small snacks. A doorman takes your jacket away from you before you grab Genny’s hand and head to the dance floor. 

Many of Genny’s old friends soon recognize her and start to surround you two, the night is still young and the sound of laughter soon fills the air. You and Genny danced the night away until you both were sweaty and out of breath. Your make-up had gone a bit smudged but you didn’t mind. It was nearing midnight when most of the students started to leave and you pulled Genny away for one last surprise. 

Genny started to slow down a bit, the exercise of the dance sapping away her energy. She pulls through though and follows you to a winding staircase that leads to one of the roofs of the manor. The spring air chills you to your bone, but it is well received after the sweat you have built up. You help Genny sit down before you sit down next to her, the shingles of the roof poking through your dress in an uncomfortable way. 

A satisfied sigh leaves your lips when you look out to the vast countryside behind the manor. The stars twinkle as far as the eyes can see and from your advantage point, no trees are blocking the view either. Genny pants beside you as she calms herself down from the climb and leans her head against your shoulder. 

“I am so glad you made me come to this dance,” She whispers as she looks out to the stars. 

“Me too,” You agree, you begin the absentmindedly swing your legs back and forth. Your heels come loose and slip from your feet and both you and Genny laugh at it. 

“Gosh, I hope that didn’t hit anyone,” She continues to laugh as she cautiously peers over the side. 

“Or else they’d have to smell my stinky feet, ewww!” You continue her joke. 

Her laugh turns into a cough and your mood shifts to melancholy. 

A shift in the winds tells you that her time will soon be up. “Genny,” You start. “My sister is going to be here soon.”

“Oh, really? I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“Yes, I have a huge family actually.”

“Well, tell me about your sister,” She smiles, head feeling heavier as she puts her full weight on your shoulder. 

“She is really sweet, and a soft, kind-hearted soul. Just like you, I suppose.” You say. 

Genny doesn’t reply and tears prick your eyes. When you turn your head you see Genny standing up with a smile, yet her body still remains on your shoulder. Behind her stands your sister, a reassuring smile and a gentle hand rest around Genny in a side hug. 

“Your sister says that she’ll take great care of me,” She starts and looks at Death with a solemn smile. “Will she?” 

“Yeah, she’s one of the best…” Your voice dips into a murmur as you feel your lips tremble. 

Your answer is enough for her and she turns to leave. She seems to have remembered something as she turns back around and wraps her hands around your shoulders, her ghostly figure slightly falling through your physical form. 

“I’ll see you again, right?” Genny asks, hope lines her figure and you can’t bear to see it fade. 

“Yes,” You lie through your teeth. “Good-bye.” 

She turns to leave with your sister, blissfully unaware of your last farewell. The sound of Death’s beating wings was the last thing you heard before it was just the barren countryside again. Genny’s body grows cold by your side as you pet her hair for the last time. 

The manor staff came soon when you faked a scream and soon ambulances came and went with her body. You’re left in the aftermath of a romantic dream of confection and ribbons alone in the middle of the dance floor feeling numb. 

“Hey, lady, if you’re going to stand here moping you can at least help out,” A staff member calls out and you snap out of your thoughts. 

He hands you a few foldable chairs and tells you to put them up. You nodded along, not really having much else to do. You meander through the halls when you realize that he didn’t tell you where to put the chairs. It’s when you find yourself at a set of stairs that lead down towards the basement. And to you, it made all logical sense for humans to store their things in the basement. 

You open the heavy double doors and descend further into the musky basement. Candles were lit on the stairs and its melted wax coats the edges as it lightens the path. When you get to the bottom, you’re greeted by the host of the party that you met earlier in the night. 

“What are you doing here, girl!” He scolds. 

You hold up the chairs, unaware of his tone. “Hi, Mr. Burgess. I’m helping with clearing up after the dan…” Your final word trails off as your eyes wander past his figure. 

Behind him sits your brother and your jaw drops. Mr. Burgess tries to stand between you and him when he notices that your attention is no longer on him. Dream stands fully in his glass prison and you would have made fun of the fact that he was fully rocking out in his birthday suit if not for the situation at hand. 

“Oh, what the fuck,” You whisper, dropping the chairs.

You breeze past Mr. Burgess and stand before Morpheus. Golden runes that surround his prison stop you short as if there was some sort of invisible force field. Your head whips around and faces your host again. He stands tall as he stares back. 

“Why do you have my brother in a-a… fucking FISH BOWL!” Your words stumble out at the utter audacity of the situation, your hands moving around expressively. 

Realization dawns on him and you realize that you made a mistake. “So, you are one of his family. That man warned me about your kind. Which one are you.” He seethes as he walks towards you. 

“You face Defiance of the Endless,” You spit back at him.

You were in no mood to play, first, your friend dies in your arms and then you learn that Lucienne’s suspicions were right and that something did happen to your brother. This whole time he had been here under your feet while you were having fun. His clothes, tools, and dignity stripped from him as you drank enough sparkling cocktails to make Dionysus jealous. 

The man scoffs at you and spits at your feet. “Oh please, and I thought that it was going to be hard. I’ve heard of you, little girl. They told me that you are nothing, a nobody. You have no realm, no powers, you are barely a god.”

You stay silent as he speaks, rage flushes through your body and your muscles tremble. His words rang true, but here you shall stand for your brother. He advances on you and you find that you have nowhere to go. A sharp pain burns across your cheek as his pierced cane comes into contact with your skin. 

Your body follows the force as it throws you off balance. Your head cracks against the stone floor of the basement and a gasp leaves you. Your vision blurs from the hit and you feel warm blood sliding down your cheek like an unshed tear. In the distance of your mind, you hear Dream slamming his fist against his glass prison. You stand again, determined to not be bested by a mere mortal. 

His cane comes down again like a whip, hitting your shins and then once again on the back of your knees. The blow forces you to kneel before him, and your cries of pain echo in your head. The coarse floor scratches at your palm but you keep your breath as even as you can. 

“Is that all you got?” You sneer as you look up at him through your eyelashes. 

His foot comes towards your face and you squeeze your eyes shut right before the impact follows. Your body tumbles further away from Dream, but his slamming continues. You feel the wall behind you, its surface cooling down your heating body. 

“Stop, I command you to stop!” Morpheus shouts, command muffled.

“Dream of the Endless commands you to stop,” You repeat your brother's words. You use the wall to brace yourself to stand on wobbling legs.

Iron fills your mouth and you spit it out back at Burgess’ feet, much like he did to you before. You grin when you see him grimace at the act. You wipe your mouth clean with the back of your hand, very unladylike, but between the three of you, who is going to judge? 

A backhanded slap snaps your head to the side and another painful scream follows. 

“Stop! Cease yourself or face my wrath!” Dream continues to scream as your vision blurs again. 

“No, I can take it,” Your voice is coarse but the message is heard loud and clear. 

“Oh, you can take it, hmm?” Burgess taunts and his cane jabs into your abdomen. 

You feel like you couldn’t breathe, that no matter how much your mouth gaped open, oxygen didn’t fill in your lungs as you needed it to. 

“I can take it,” You wheeze out again, another hit forces you back down and this time you don’t have the strength to get up again. 

“I suppose one step higher than capturing an Endless is to kill one,” Burgess laughs on top of you. His heavy body straddles you and you feel his hands wrap around your neck. 

Black dots swarm your vision like the expanding universe. Your nails claw at his hands, drawing blood, as your body tries its best to fight back. Burgess picks you up by the neck and slams your back down, stars waltz behind your eyelids and a brief vision of home comforts you. A ragged breath crawls through your throat before another slam into the ground silences you. Despite your efforts, your hands grow limp and you feel your body start to break down. It flakes away like spring cherry blossom petals as you take your last breath. 

“No!” Dream’s scream is the last thing you hear. 

Your consciousness fades to black and it is quiet for once. It’s odd to think that an immortal being can die, but it’s true. The only thing that differentiates it is that you could be reborn. Immortality is a fickle thing. 

When you come back into consciousness, you can feel the Dreaming heal your soul. It wraps its warmth around you like a soft blanket and you finally feel safe enough to stop everything that ran through your mind. When you stretch out your limbs you realize that you weren’t in your human form anymore. 

Your perception spans further and you can see new angles you haven’t seen before through your eyes. You wiggle your toes, or what you thought were your toes and feel soft and fertilizing soil below you. When you look down you notice that your legs have turned into the soft bark of a willow tree. Your arms shake and the reaching leaves of the tree shake from the action. You sigh and your bark groans and creeks under your deflation. 

You soon become a welcomed resident in Fiddler’s Green, providing shade for the decreasing amount of dreamers that come to visit you. As the years pass, the Dreaming starts to die around you as Morpheus stays entrapped under the Burgess Manor. You stay as a tree, unable to move and help. Guilt eats you alive, leaving your core to rot from the inside out. 

Lucienne comes to visit now and then, but as the castle starts to fall apart, she can’t find the time to come by anymore. Your days grow lonelier as Fiddler’s Green decides to leave the Dreaming as well. You stand on dry soil in a barren wasteland. Your inaction keeping you hostage like a ladybug in a spiderweb. The more you struggled, the harder you found it to keep your human consciousness. 

So, you did the most human you could think of: you cried. Fitting, you thought to yourself, a weeping willow, well, weeping. Your tears came to fruition in the form of vibrant yellow blossoming flowers against the beige and cracking surroundings. 

You stayed like that for the next 106 years. Your roots had grown so long that you could feel each corner of the dreaming, searching high and low for water to drink from. Soon, even that would run out. Another tear runs down your bark, your trunk growing deep grooves where the previous century of tears had carved. Despite all odds, your leaves were still vibrant and your flowers would change colors based on your mood. A trick that took you a few decades to learn. 

The moon rises higher and higher over the horizon. You follow its path, counting the fragments to keep your mind from boredom. It split in half 15 years after Dream’s capture and every five years or so, another fragment separates from the moon. You counted 18 fragments this time around, the same as the day before, and the week before that. You yawn, the bark shaking as you do so and close your eyes to rest.

You wake to a soft hand on your bark just as dawn cracks. Your leaves shake in surprise as someone touches you. It takes a moment to reorientate yourself and when you look down from your height your breath hitches. 

“Sister?” Dream calls out, his hand still on your bark. 

Relief floods your system just as a soft breeze runs its fingers through your thin leaves. Your catkin flowers caress his skin when he smiles at you. Just as fast as relief has found you, guilt consumes you again. Morpheus has escaped, it had taken him 106 years and all you have done is stand here and do nothing. Your branches groan again, more flowers blooming in its wake as you weep again, and the individual petals turn a deep blue color. 

Dream grabs one of your leaves gently as it tries to recede from his touch. “Y/N,” He calls out carefully. “I do not blame you for what happened 106 years ago.”

“I am touched by your sacrifice.” He pauses as he picks his next words carefully. “You were the only one who came to my side when I needed it.” 

You still stay quiet but your petals slowly start to return to their yellow colors. Morpheus takes this as a good sign and continues. 

“I love you, dear sister, I wish for you to never doubt that. If only I could give you a hug for all that you had done for me,” He prods and extends both of his hands outwards. 

You purse your non-existent lips in thought, a very tempting offer. Why not try one more time, to be by your brother’s side? Your bark groans again and you concentrate. You try to remember the details of your human body. How did your hair look? How did you hold yourself? Did you have a mole on this side of your face? 

Your leaves and branches start to shake and shrink in on themselves the more you think. You call in your roots and start to wiggle your toes. You think of your fingers and how they had done so much for you: the paintings you made, the pastries you baked. One last tear escapes down your raw skin and when you open your eyes again, you are looking at Dream through new eyes. 

Morpheus comes into your space and wraps his steadying arms around you. You sob into his jacket until it becomes uncomfortable. Your throat is raw when you’re finally reduced to hiccups. Through it all, Dream is holding onto you, gently caressing your hair the way you have liked since you were born. 

“I like this new hair of yours,” He comments as he pulls at a few strands of your hair. It’s longer this time around and kept the same emotional properties your flowers had. It changes from blue to green as your mood shifts. 

“Great, now I can’t hide my emotions anymore.” You mutter weakly to yourself as it changes to red at your slight annoyance. 

Dream chuckles above you and gives you one final tight squeeze. 

“Welcome home, sister,” He whispers. You take a deep breath, letting it fill your lungs thoroughly. 

“Yes, I am home.” 

I did a surprising amount of research for this fic. Apparently, the first woman to attain a driver's license was like in 1900 so that's why Genny was so surprised you could drive. Also, I would not recommend driving in a 1916 vehicle? Looks like it could explode at any minute.

This was a request! And requests are open, just go to my page and hit that button to submit one.

If you do submit a request, it may take me a bit to get to them just because of the nature of it and my classes are starting to get ready for finals. (Your girl is graduating this semester woohoo!)

I will see you in the next fic!

♡ Yours, Layla