#dream that there must - there must be some special story inside me and if only i find out what it's about perhaps I'll be able to remove all

[lacunasbalustrade]

.

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Sleepy Bitch Syndrome: Chapter One

Sleepy Bitch Syndrome: You've got narcolepsy and have been visiting the Dreaming daily for years. Then its Lord and King finally return and he doesn't know quite what to think of you.

Warnings: None.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x Narcoleptic!Reader, for you dear @aralezinspace.

Word Count: ~2.6k

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You awaken to the familiar yet deteriorating landscape of the Dreaming. For years, your narcolepsy has transported you daily into this realm—a realm that, despite its barrenness and brokenness, has become your sanctuary. The muted grays and browns are beautiful to you, in a special way, but you know that the true majesty of the realm cannot emerge without its master, Dream. A being you've never met and only heard stories of. Yet, despite its decay, you have forged friendships here, finding solace among its inhabitants.

You walk through the desolate meadow, the grass crunching underfoot like dried paper. The sky is a dull, oppressive gray, reflecting the sea of sand and rock that neighbors the palace ruins. Your destination is the Library, a place that has barely managed to retain some semblance of order thanks to Lucienne’s tireless efforts. As you approach the grand, time-worn doors of the library, you feel a pang of sorrow for the state of this once magnificent realm.

“Lucienne?” you call out, your voice echoing through the cavernous hall as you step inside.

From behind a towering stack of books, Lucienne appears, her face lighting up with a weary smile when she sees you. “Ah, there you are. I was wondering when you would pop up. How are you today?”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “It’s hard to see the Dreaming like this. It feels like a part of me is withering along with it and it was already withering to begin with.”

Lucienne nods, her expression somber. “We all feel it. The absence of Lord Morpheus has taken a toll on this realm. But we must hold on to hope. Things may yet change.”

"It's been over a century, Luce," You point out, "I've been visiting for at least a decade and we've never seen hide nor hair of him. What— what if he's not coming back?"

Lucienne sighs softly, closing the book and replacing it on the shelf. "Maybe not," she admits. "But we can't give up...we must continue searching."

All of the residents that remain, a precious few, were adamant that Dream would return. You believed them, you truly did, but what being abandoned their people like this?? Something terrible must have happened, it was the only explanation you can think of. You were staying strong and hopeful for them, after all, the Dreaming was there home. It was only a temporary place for you to wander until you rouse from your episode. As you ponder what you would do next in this dream, the palace creaks and shakes, the sounds of more stone breaking off and falling to the ground greets your ears.

"Perhaps it would be best if you get out of the palace and visit the brothers? Maybe play with Gregory?" Lucienne offers to you, hoping to get you out of the crumbling palace before you decided to were going to spend your time assisting Mervyn.

"But what if Mervyn—" The librarian cuts you off with a stern look over her spectacles. You glance at Lucienne, her stern expression brooking no argument. With a resigned sigh, you turn and head out of the library, feeling the cool air of the Dreaming settle against your skin. The path to Cain and Abel’s house winds through the remnants of what once was a lush garden, now overrun with thorny vines and twisted trees. At least that's what Mervyn had told you.

As you approach the brothers’ abode, you hear a faint rustling sound followed by a series of thuds. Rounding the corner, you find Gregory tangled up in a net of brambles, his wings flapping uselessly as he tries to free himself.

“Gregory!” you exclaim, rushing to his side. His large, expressive eyes brighten when he sees you. Like a giant puppy, he chirps at you and wiggles his body. You chuckle softly as you begin to untangle the brambles from around his wings. “What happened this time?”

Gregory chirps again, his eyes wide with a mix of relief and sheepishness. You carefully work your way through the tangle of brambles, pulling each thorny vine away from his stone skin. The gargoyle’s weight shifts as he tries to help by flapping his wings, but it only makes the process more cumbersome.

“Hold still, Gregory. You’re not making this any easier,” you mutter with a half-smile.

He lets out a low rumble, a sound that almost seems like an apology. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you manage to free him. Gregory stretches his wings wide and gives a joyful hop, sending a cloud of dust into the air.

“Feeling better?” you ask, brushing off your hands.

Gregory nods vigorously, then nuzzles your shoulder with his large head. His granite skin is always surprisingly warm against your own.

You laugh softly and give him a pat. “Come on, let’s find Cain and Abel.”

The two of you make your way toward the brothers’ house, Gregory trailing close behind like an oversized shadow. As you approach, you hear the unmistakable sound of an argument brewing inside. The voices grow louder until you can make out individual words.

“It was mine! You had no right to take it!” Abel’s voice trembles with indignation.

Cain’s reply is sharp and dismissive. “You never appreciate what you have! Someone needs to teach you a lesson!”

You exchange a knowing glance with Gregory and push open the door. Inside, Cain stands over Abel, who is clutching something close to his chest—a small, tattered book by the looks of it. Both brothers freeze when they see you.

“Is everything alright here?” you ask, trying to keep your tone neutral.

Cain straightens up and crosses his arms over his chest. “Just a little brotherly disagreement,” he says coolly.

Abel’s eyes dart between Cain and you before he speaks up in a softer voice. “He took my journal. I was writing in it, and he just—”

“It’s just a book,” Cain interrupts with a wave of his hand. “No need to get all worked up about it.”

You step closer to Abel and gently place a hand on his shoulder. “Abel, would you like to show me what you’ve been writing?”

He hesitates for a moment but then nods slowly, opening the journal to reveal pages filled with neat handwriting and detailed sketches—mostly of Gregory in various playful poses.

“These are wonderful,” you say genuinely, flipping through the pages. “You have real talent and Gregory is a stellar model!”

Abel blushes slightly under the praise while Cain rolls his eyes but doesn't comment further on the topic. Cain then suggests you stay for tea, his tone surprisingly warm. "Why don't you join us for some tea? Abel's been perfecting his recipe."

You nod, sensing the tension ebbing away. "I'd love to."

Abel beams and scurries off to prepare the tea. Gregory settles down near the hearth, his tail curling around his feet like a giant cat. You take a seat at the table, watching as Cain busies himself with setting out cups and saucers.

"So," Cain begins, filling the kettle with water. "What brings you here today?"

"Lucienne thought I needed a break," you say, leaning back in your chair. "She suggested visiting you and Abel."

Cain chuckles. "Smart woman. This place can be a bit... intense."

Abel returns with a tray of biscuits just as Cain sets the kettle on the stove. He places the tray in the center of the table and sits down across from you, his expression shy but hopeful.

"I hope you like them," Abel says quietly. "They're Gregory's new favorite."

You smile and reach for a biscuit, breaking it in half and offering a piece to Gregory. The gargoyle's eyes light up as he delicately takes the treat from your hand, chewing with surprising grace.

"These are delicious, Abel," you say after taking a bite of your own half. The biscuit is buttery and sweet, with just the right amount of crunch.

Abel's face lights up with pride. "Thank you! I've been experimenting with different ingredients."

The kettle whistles, and Cain pours steaming tea into each cup before passing them around. You take a sip, savoring the warm, fragrant brew.

"So," Cain says after a moment of silence, "how have things been with managing your narcolepsy Have your doctors come up with any new treatments?"

You take another sip of tea, letting the warmth spread through you. "It's been challenging," you admit. "They've tried a few new medications, but nothing seems to make a significant difference. I'm still visiting the Dreaming just as often."

Cain nods, his expression thoughtful. "It must be difficult, living between two worlds like that."

"It is," you agree, "but the Dreaming feels like a second home now. Even with its current state, there's something comforting about it."

Abel looks up from his tea, curiosity in his eyes. "Do you ever meet anyone else in your dreams? Other than us, I mean."

You think back to the fleeting faces and shadowy figures you've encountered over the years. "Occasionally. Most of them are just passing through, I think. But there are a few regulars."

Cain raises an eyebrow. "Regulars?"

You nod. "People who seem to visit the Dreaming as often as I do. We don't always interact, but there's a sense of familiarity. Like we’re all taking the same bus to work.”

Gregory nuzzles your arm again, reminding you of his presence. You smile and give him another biscuit piece.

"Maybe they’re like us," Abel muses, stirring his tea absently.

"Maybe," you say, watching Gregory's eyes follow the crumbs that fall from your hand.

Cain leans back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head. "Well, if you ever need a break from your other world, you're always welcome here."

"Thank you," you say sincerely.

The room falls into a comfortable silence as you all enjoy your tea and biscuits. The tension that had filled the air earlier has dissipated, replaced by a sense of camaraderie.

After a while, Abel stands up and starts clearing the table. Gregory helps by nudging dishes towards him with his nose.

"You know," Cain says thoughtfully, "I've been working on something in the garden. Would you like to see it?"

Your curiosity piqued, you nod eagerly. "I'd love to."

He leads you outside to a small patch of land behind their house where he’s cultivated a modest garden despite the Dreaming’s decay. It's filled with strange and beautiful plants that seem to shimmer in the dim light.

"It's not much," Cain says modestly, "but it's something to focus on."

"It's wonderful," you say sincerely, admiring the vibrant colors and unusual shapes.

Gregory chirps happily beside you while Abel joins Cain's side with a proud smile on his face.

You find yourself at the crumbling gate, alongside Lucienne, helping her clear away some of the rubble that has fallen from the deteriorating structure. The two of you work in  silence, the only sounds being the crunch of debris underfoot and the occasional groan of the ancient walls. Where was Mervyn? He usually helped out with clean up since he was the custodian and grounds keeper.

As you lift a particularly large piece of stone, a sudden gust of wind blows its way past where you stand, carrying with it an eerie, almost tangible sense of presence. You glance at Lucienne, who has frozen in place, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and hope.

“Lucienne?” you begin to ask, but she’s already moving, dropping the rubble she was holding and rushing towards the source of the disturbance. You follow her gaze and see him—Morpheus, the Lord of Dreams—lying amidst a swirl of sand. His dark form contrasts starkly against the desolation around him. Lucienne reaches him first, her voice trembling with a blend of reverence and concern.

“Lord Morpheus!” she exclaims, kneeling beside him. “Sir! Sir!”

You make it to where Lucienne crouches and Morpheus lays. His form is gaunt, his skin pale as moonlight, but his presence is undeniable. Lucienne's hands hover over him, uncertain whether to touch him or not.

“Is he...?” you start to ask, but Lucienne shakes her head.

“He’s alive,” she says, her voice trembling with a mix of relief and disbelief. “He’s come back.”

You watch as Morpheus’s chest rises and falls with shallow breaths. His eyes remain closed, and his expression is one of exhaustion. You kneel beside Lucienne, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on you.

“What do we do?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. But before Lucienne replies, Morpheus stirs slightly, his eyes fluttering open.

Lucienne gasps softly and leans closer. “Lord Morpheus? Sir?” His eyes focus on her slowly as if waking from a deep sleep. When he finally speaks, his voice is weak but unmistakably his own.

“Lucienne,” he whispers. Tears fill her eyes as she takes his hand gently in hers.

“Welcome back,” she says softly.

Morpheus’s gaze shifts to you briefly, a darkness flickering within his eyes before it disappears. You rise to your feet and step a few steps back, unsure of what to do or say. Morpheus slowly rises to his feet, his eyes scanning his surroundings with a distant look. He finally focuses on Lucienne, then shifts his gaze to you. His expression is unreadable, a mix of curiosity and confusion.

“Who is this?” he asks, his voice carrying an otherworldly echo.

Lucienne glances back at you before answering. “This is one of our regular visitors. They’ve been coming here for the past decade.”

Morpheus studies you intently, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Why do you visit so often?”

You swallow hard, feeling the weight of his scrutiny. “I think we have more pressing concerns at the moment, Lord Morpheus. The Dreaming, she's suffering." Morpheus's eyes bore into you, searching for something unspoken. You hold his gaze, standing your ground even as the weight of his presence presses against you.

"You're right," Morpheus finally concedes, his voice a shadow of its former strength. He had more pressing matters to attend to. He turns to Lucienne. "What has happened here?"

Lucienne hesitates, glancing at you before she begins. "After your disappearance, the Dreaming started to decay. Parts of it have crumbled away entirely."

You nod in agreement, stepping forward. "We’ve been doing our best to maintain it, but without your presence, it’s been difficult."

Morpheus looks around, his expression hardening as he takes in the desolation. He reaches out a hand and brushes his fingers against a nearby fragment of stone, and you see a flicker of energy pulse through him. The stone vibrates slightly, as if responding to his touch.

"It will require time to mend," he mutters, mostly to himself. Then he faces you and Lucienne. "But we will reconstruct." Although he directs his words to Lucienne, his eyes focus on you, filled with hostility. You feel unwelcome.

Date Published: 7/10/24

Last Edit: 7/10/24

Masterlist | Next

[hollowbutcanlove]

The language of the flowers Pt. 1

TW: foul language, mention of fucking.

Yoru - narcissus - deceitful hopes, desire, selfishness.

Your relationship seemed strange to you from the beginning. You saw each other infrequently in private places to satisfy your lustful needs. Outside of those meetings, you had no contact. Or rather, he didn't make contact at all. When you tried to start even a conversation about a joint mission, he quickly swept you off your feet without even letting you finish your sentence. And you were hurting. Your heart clenched and bled, anxious thoughts turning your brain upside down trying to figure out what you were doing wrong.

"Yoru, wait," you finally manage to grab hold of him during the mission. He's wounded, so he can't run far. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"Found time to ask," - he snorts and turns away. - "Don't blink your eyes, and look around."

"There's no way I can get through to you at any other time!" - You shriek and tug at his wounded arm.

" Shit! What the fuck do you want?" - he yells and yanks his hand out of your grasp.

"Just tell me why you're avoiding me? Isn't everything that's going on between us..."

"Between us? There is no us. We just fuck every now and then. " - he quips dryly, then abruptly pulls out his gun and shoots somewhere behind your back. - "I told you to watch, didn't I! No use for you besides a nice body."

Something inside you cracks and you stare in shock at the guy, who clearly doesn't care about what you're feeling. He crawls away to a more secluded spot, waiting for help, while you stare at the spot where Yoru was just sitting. His words have shaken you to the core. Did you make it all up? Did you make up something that never happened?

Iso - bird cherry - joy; "I have much to tell you," "I want to see you as soon as possible!"

The silence in the common living room was broken by someone's footsteps, which brought you out of your slumber. You slowly lifted over the couch to look at the insolent man who dared to pull you out of your sweet half-dreams. At the other end of the room stood Iso, apparently just back from a mission. He and a few of the other agents hadn't been at headquarters for a while, but the others were out of sight for some reason.

"They'll be here later," he must have read your mind. - "I brought you something."

He pulls a small toy out of his sweatshirt pocket, a local symbol of the country they were in. You smile softly and sit down fully on the couch, waiting for Iso.

"There's so much I want to tell you about what happened," he takes a seat next to me and begins his story. - "Did you sleep?"

"It's okay," you nod.

After your approval, he begins to recount all the events that have come their way. You only listened silently and nodded occasionally to give some feedback. It's rare that Iso is so talkative and open, but he's always there for you. And all you have to do is enjoy listening to his voice.

Omen - aster white - "I love you more than you love me"; "Not convinced of your love".

"Omen," you quietly call out to your partner in the semi-darkness of the room.

You see him near his bonsai, which Omen was carefully and carefully trimming with special scissors. The painstaking and patient way he was doing his work made you wonder if all living things are allowed to feel such care from a ghostly being.

"Omen!" - You called out louder, and he was finally distracted from what he was doing.

"Yes, dear?" - he resumed his occupation, listening to the sounds you would make. A chill ran through the room, and you shrank back.

"I think..." - you stammered, not knowing how to choose your words. "You... I... Shit..."

The sound of scissors filled the silence that hung in the air.

"Damn, Omen..." - you finally exhale. - "I feel like you don't feel anything for me. Like I love you more than you love me."

He stops and three times the slits in his face turn in your direction. An awkward moment of silence is replaced by a quiet sound that meant Omen put his scissors down on the tabletop.

"You know this is hard for me. Human feelings feel differently to me. "

"But it's hard for me too. And I'm trying to do something about it. Unlike you." - you bite your lip and look away.

"I do some things too, to understand you and not to hurt you. You don't notice them." - A note of anger slipped into the ghost's voice, then his footsteps began to drift away. He didn't like talking to you in a fit of anger, so he just walked away. At times like this you both felt abandoned and misunderstood, but in the end you always end up back where you started. The vicious circle of misunderstandings and reconciliations will always be with you, because you are two different beings who will hardly ever understand each other 100%.

[cafeinthemoon]

Ever Dream (Apollo x reader)

Chapter 1/1

Wordcount 7,3k

Title Ever Dream

Fandom Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok

Symbols ✔ . 1️⃣ . 💛

Warnings: Apollo is extremely inconvenient in the beginning; angst with a soft, bittersweet ending

Tagging ? (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A. Finally I can fulfill my promise and post this little story with Apollo!

At first, he wasn't appealing to me at all, but as his character was developed, I found myself liking him (I basically understood that my lack of interest in him and his fight was due to me not moving on from Hades' loss, since snv doesn't feel the same for me anymore) Also his personality is a bit weird in this one bc I've started to write it before his flashback came out, and since I've wrote so much it would be a waste to restart my work to adjust his depiction to something more "pleasing", so I just kept things this way. But I hope you have fun with it :)

“Come out, come out

Wherever you are [...]

Give in, give in for my touch

For my taste

For my lust”

(Nightwish, Ever Dream)

Summer days might be the favorites among the mortals, for they were long and favorable to the body and the heart, as a good presage for the ones who needed it, but that didn’t apply to you. Yes, as many, you appreciated cheerful encounters of friends under the shadow of a tree on a warmth afternoon, as well as playing games in the city’s lake with your sisters, but none of these small delights were enough to make you enjoy Summer above the other seasons. Honestly, you would be happier during Spring, when the beauty of the flowers would be in its apex, or during Winter, when you would stay long periods at home, in front of a good fire, with warm food and crafting to occupy your hands; even Autumn had a special place in your heart, with its meadows of red leaves and winds whispering mysterious tunes.

The thing is that you used to work as a gardener during Spring and Summer, and this latter was always the most difficult one, for the land where you lived was always too hot for any activity to be possible under midday sun, so you would adjust your routine to work at early morning or when the sunset approached.

It was a hard work: the plants would suffer with the heat, and you must know the right moment of the day to pour water in them, in order to not burn their roots; some of them would even become dusty with the lack of rain, only to be harmed after sudden, summer storms, and it would take an entire day for you to clean the fallen leaves, broken branches and garbage brought by the wind – not to speak about the mud; and, as if none of this wasn’t enough, you would have to fight against seasonal infestations.

It was a lonely work, also: there would be days when you would stay in silence for so long that hearing your own voice after going back home or speaking to yourself during work brought a sensation of strangeness. But you enjoyed the solitude, using it to perfect your abilities and organize your thoughts.

Some would say that you should start thinking seriously about your situation, that is, that you couldn’t live only for the plants and that you were already in the age of considering marriage, but you would just escape from their demands inside the labyrinths of the garden. Not that you would get angry with them, though. You understood their preoccupations, but you were aware of where they came from: they didn’t understand that happiness could have many sources in human life beyond building a family.

And, as long as your own happiness came from the garden, you would stay inside it.

***

If the humans who knew you were the only ones watching your steps with what you’d call an abnormal interest, you could deal with it. But fate wanted things to be complicated for you, so your peculiar, solitary routine hasn’t caught only the mortals’ attention.

It happened that, close to your garden’s location, upon a greenish hill, a temple was built centuries ago. A temple to honor the deity whose powers were always strong across those lands – Apollo, Son of Zeus and Guardian of the Sun, Master of Poetry and Music, and owner of more titles than you could remember. You’ve never seen him in person, though it was said that he used that building as his temporary residence on summer days, which explained the intense temperatures during that time of the year; it also explained why the lights of the temple would be fed until late hours and why there would be sound of chords, drums and high voices all day. You respected the work of the people living there, of course, but you’d appreciate a bit of silence during a period that was so difficult for you, and there you had another reason to show up only when the sun wasn’t shinning in all its splendor.

Little you knew that, from the highest spot of the temple, upon a parapet only accessible to himself, the Lord of that house, to whom all those honors were directed, has been observing that lonely, little mortal who would come every day to take care of her flowers with the same dedication as Heracles by the time he had to fulfill his twelve tasks.

He couldn’t remember when was the first time he saw you: the only thing he knew was that, while he stood at that temple, he couldn’t spend one day without seeing you. Every morning, before his worshipers woke up, Apollo would walk up the stairs that led to the private space where the highest balcony of the temple was, and he would sit at it, with his back leaning on a column, to witness the girl’s arrival and her preparations before work; he would stay there, watching in ecstatic silence as she separated her tools, touched each plant with those delicate fingers of hers, examined each spot of them and gave them the necessary treatment, smiling and, sometimes, mumbling to herself.

Not only he noticed your diligence and dedication, but it didn’t escape him how much you were beautiful. Yes, you were surrounded by appealing fruit trees, flowers of the most interesting shapes and shades, all of them between intricate green walls that only added in majesty, yet your figure caught the man’s eyes above all of them – eyes that were trained to not miss anything that could be pleasing to one’s sight.

The god would cheer at himself with the fact that you were oblivious to this, while he, at that height, was completely out of your sight. It was like in the old days, where he would observe the mortal realm from his spot at the Olympus, except that this time there would be no difficulties in reaching you: as one of the city’s inhabitants, you were basically his neighbor, and knowing that building like the palm of his hand, he knew the secret shortcuts that would lead him to your garden’s gates.

At first, Apollo would state that his morning observations were just a hobby, and that with all the work to keep him occupied at the temple and the attentions he would get from the worshipers – particularly from the priestesses – he would soon forget about you and your flowers. However, he wasn’t fool to the point of lying to himself for too long, and soon he would admit that he was interested in you. Well, he was already desiring you, in a way that didn’t happen since… a few centuries ago, maybe by the time of that temple’s inauguration, when he would lure some of the city’s mortals into it. And now, there he was, leaving the comfort of his bed every morning, sometimes even before the sun came up to greet him, for anything but to catch the exact moment when your feet stepped into that garden, wondering how your voice would send shivers all over his body in case you whispered in his ears with the same docility you did to the flowers, how soft your skin would feel if he caught your frail form between his arms, and the heat he would sense once his lips touched yours.

This extended for days, until he finally had enough.

That morning, he watched you as always, but this time something inside him awakened, and he just let his body move away from the parapet and reach for his private chambers, where he caught his best garments and a pair of golden sandals, and then wandered to outside the temple, to the narrow path behind the hill, covered in stones and sand, only known by himself, and in one minute or two, he was standing at the garden’s entry.

Today is the day. The day when I shall make you mine.

***

It should be a pacific, ordinary morning of work at the garden.

You arrived at the usual hour, reached for the spot of the garden where you started working the day before, separated your tools and went to take care of your tasks.

You’ve spent one hour, maybe two like this, so concentrated in what your were doing that the sudden rustling between the leaves somewhere behind you made you startle and drop your garden shears. You turned around…

And found quite a spectacle for that time of the day.

Coming out of a narrow space between two green walls, you saw a young man dressed in garments that you supposed to be only appropriate for the Summer Festivities, not so far in the land’s calendar: he had a white toga around his body, which hems and details appeared to be sewn with golden threads; golden were also the strappy sandals he had on his feet, as well as the laurel wreath on his head. The first rays of the sun reached the space between you at that hour, and the golden light poured itself over the man’s figure as the hug of a beloved one, revealing that the metallic ornaments he carried were, in fact, gold, and conceding a singular glimmer to his eyes, which you thought to be of the same shade. But that wasn’t the only peculiarity seen in his appearance: his hair, falling on straight strands to his waist, were of a soft pink that reminded you of some of the flowers in your garden, but a comparison wasn’t possible, since they were out of sight at that moment.

Yes, the visitor was a beautiful man, though eccentric, so your first thought was that he was the son of a noble family that came to the city to honor the god of the Sun at the temple beside your garden.

He’s probably thinking that the garden is part of the temple’s territory. I must clarify this mistake and lead him back through the right path.

And you were going to do that very thing, but he was faster.

Without waiting for an invitation or at least a question about his presence there, the man approached your spot and stopped in front of you, observing your tiny person surrounded by flowers and tools with a mixture of curiosity and disbelief: was this girl really engaging in physical work this early?, his eyes seemed to ask.

You stepped behind, closer to a bush of wild roses, but glanced over your shoulder before touching the thorns – something that made the stranger giggle. You didn’t like that at all.

The first words said between you were his.

– I’ve always said that wild roses were not my favorites, but the truth is that they’ve scared me and charmed me at the same time, and I just couldn’t deal with it – he stretched an arm to touch a spot above and behind you; not disguising the feeling that he was closer than a stranger should be, your eyes followed his movement and found his fingers reaching for a flower of the bush – A ridiculous mistake from an arrogant heart… – and, turning his golden eyes to you, – Don’t you think, my flower?

Your eyes widened, but you managed to control your mouth to not scoff at those words: you’ve been working at that garden for too long now, and from time to time there would be one and other man who would come to celebrate the Summer Festivities at Apollo’s temple, many of them from privileged houses… and about whom you’ve already had a clear opinion.

Let me see… Extravagant clothing at this time of the day, bad sense of direction, abnormally elevated self-confidence and no regard for personal space. Of course, another womanizer who relies on cheap flirting to win innocent hearts. He knows that this type of chatting only works when the speaker is young and beautiful like him, but things would be very different if we had an old, naughty man in his place.

You knew that, if you didn’t do anything to get rid of him, he would bother you for the rest of the morning, and you wouldn’t be able to complete the works of the day, but fortunately you also knew how to deal with this kind of situation, so you decided to act right now...

By moving aside and bending down to grab the garden shears that he made you drop. You stood up again and started removing the small, green leaves from its blades as you spoke.

– My Lord, I suppose you entered here by accident – you started; and, looking into his eyes, still with the shears’ blades up – Because, you see, despite the proximity, this garden doesn’t belong to Apollo’s temple. No festivities will happen here.

It was with a bit of diversion that you observed the bright smile fading from his pretty face, but you remained impassible, for you were aware that this one was an experienced gentleman and wouldn’t give up so easily.

And he didn’t.

– I must be indelicate and disagree with you, Miss – he moved his hand away from the flower, but, with an eye on your shears, he hid both hands behind his back – For a garden is a never-ending festivity itself, and the one that is going on right here owes all its beauty to the work of your hands.

You swallowed. He did have a way with words, then. But not even this would be enough for you to allow delays in your routine, and you made that very clear.

– If this is the case, my Lord, I must make use of the same indelicacy and interrupt our conversation here – in a swift move of your hands, the shears closed and opened twice with a metallic whisper – And keep working on the garden’s beauty.

And, without waiting for a response, you turned your back on the man and restarted to prune the bush with the roses, just as you were doing when he arrived.

Not even this was able to shake the young man’s confidence, for he just stepped aside and continued to talk, caressing the flowers at the same time. No irritation or offense was sensed in his tone.

– Then I must leave you to complete your mission – and, after a pause, – But I’m trapped here, and you’re the only one who can release me... by letting me know your name.

Your hands stopped and you turned to him again. You weren’t willing to reveal it to him, but if that was going to make him go away, you would do it.

– Y/n s/n.

The young man opened a satisfied smile. But, instead of saying his own name in return, he just stepped back and nodded.

– For this I will be forever grateful, my y/n. I will make sure that Apollo’s blessing falls over you and your work concerning this celebration of beauty.

And without waiting for a response, he turned away and left.

***

If only the Festivities in honor of the Lord of the Sun were shorter, or if your garden was located in somewhere else, the strange events of yesterday involving that extravagant individual would be just a funny story to remember in an encounter between your friends, or even something you would forget after a week.

But, unfortunately, things don’t always go as we plan, so to your surprise – and exasperation – the situation happened again in the next day.

You were pouring water on the soil, in a spot of the garden not so far from the one where your first encounter happened, having only the sounds of the water falling from the can and the early birds singing on the trees as your company, when the rustling noise of indiscreet steps upon the grass caught your attention.

You turned around… and found the shinning figure of the young man smiling at you, his right hand leaning on the tree at his side, his golden eyes upon you with the same enthusiasm of the last day.

You bit your lip.

I can’t believe it. Did he forget everything that happened yesterday?

If he noticed your displease or if he chosen to ignore it, you didn’t know, but he started a casual conversation without waiting for an invitation.

– Good morning, dear y/n! – he left his spot beside the tree and walked toward you with no sign of embarrassment – As I can see, the festivities continue today.

You just gave him a silent nod in reply. The man’s smile widened in contentment.

– That’s good to hear, for today I bring you something that you might appreciate…

Only then you noticed the object he was carrying on his left hand: a bracelet made of gold, in the shape of a vine and with a white gem in its center, with rays surrounding it as an imitation of the sun. You looked at the object and hesitated.

– My Lord, it is not…

But when the words were still crossing your lips, you felt a strong hand holding your wrist and pulling it forward, making you drop the watering can; before you did anything, the man put the bracelet around your wrist and spent a moment admiring it, with your tiny hand between his.

You even tried to pull it back, but the he held you in place. You swallowed.

Heavens, his appearance is the most deceiving thing I’ve ever seen! I don’t know many soldiers who possess this strength!

Because of this, you understood that you might have been in danger since the other day, so that time you kept your mouth shut and waited to see what his next step would be.

And you didn’t know if you should feel relieved or shocked when you found it out.

– Now you were granted the necessary permission, my dear – he spoke with softness; and, pulling you closer to whisper in your ear, – The way to the Summer Festivities has opened to you at the Temple of the Great Apollo.

You had no time to respond, to move away or to show any form of refusal. The man, still holding your hand, pulled you with him and started running between the green walls and trees, rushing toward the depths of the garden and not allowing you to stop.

You glanced behind and your heart ached when you saw your work unfinished and the watering can forgotten on the spot it fell, the remaining water leaking and soaking the soil.

***

The path through which he led you, as well as the environment you found when you entered the temple was what you would sense in a dream: in one moment, he was carrying you by the hand through the green labyrinth, in a pace that defied time; in the next one, you were inside high walls of white, imposing columns with marble flowers surrounding them from their highest to their lowest spot, and countless tables of gold with goblets, jars and trays full of fruits, sweets and other tempting treats that were taken by uninhibited, joyful people dressed in flowing fabrics and barefoot, running, hopping and dancing between themselves to the frenetic sound of chords, flutes and drums. The place was a mixture of sounds, colors and smells that confused and numbed your senses, in a way that you were only able to stand thanks to the strong hold of the young man.

Despite that, you still noticed how strange was that those people seemed to move to the music as if they were just one, yet they acted like they weren’t seeing each other, lost in their particular world, to the point you wondered if they knew what they were doing or if they were just caught under a spell.

Are they really happy, or are they forced into this? It’s unsettling...

The people only showed a believable reaction when you arrived… Well, actually, when they put their eyes on the young man, and started reaching for him with no regard for your presence, pushing, bumping and even stepping upon your feet.

In a way you couldn’t understand, he opened his arms wide to receive them without letting go of your hand, with a satisfied smile on his face that seemed to light up when the first rays of sunshine entered the place, embracing him with the same passion as the people around.

It was when a thought crossed your mind as fast as those rays, and you stared at him with a knot in your stomach.

Could it be that he…?

The chorus around you, chanting the same words in delight, was the confirmation for it.

– Apollo! Apollo-sama! You finally arrived, Apollo-sama! Please don’t make us wait this long for you again, Apollo-sama!

His face brightened up with the call of the humans, as if it absorbed their joy and turned it into vital force, returning it to them with the warmth of the sun; to them, he was god, father, husband and master, and he was more than happy in taking all those roles for himself, in what you saw as a hungry, even predatory way. Though you still found it a beautiful thing to observe, you no longer saw any resemblance with a man in his figure.

He was something else.

Feeding himself with their energies and keeping them gravitating around him is like a diversion to him. How scary.

And with the same diversion, he pulled you to a tight embrace, giving you no choice to walk away, for many people came to him and were no dismissed, so that you were trapped between him and them, and you didn’t know for how long you would be able to breathe.

Somehow, he managed to walk among his worshipers and take you with him before you in fact were smothered, and without decreasing in enthusiasm, he looked around and chanted:

– My children, my flowers! Another day of Summer came to bless you! Enjoy it, cherish it like it’s your last!

Immediately, the people obeyed him and, as if slowly forgetting about his very presence, restarted the celebration, dancing and jumping around and opening the way for you two at the same time, not really realizing what they were doing.

Not wanting to join them and not being able to release yourself from Apollo’s grip, you had no choice but to follow him.

***

You walked up spiral, white stairs with golden banisters, ran through a corridor and ended up in front of an enormous pair of doors, which he opened with a slight touch of his hand.

They revealed a wide room that, even in your lack of experience in these matters, you knew to be worthy of a god: everywhere you looked, you saw comfortable chairs and couches, covered with satin sheets and surrounded by trays of sweets and fruits, and countless jars of wine; there was also a small fountain pouring water, with a jar and cups around it. You also saw books, parchments and musical instruments ready to be used. Everything there was arranged to display beauty and pleasure, as expected from its owner.

Once you stepped inside, you heard the sound of the keys turning to lock the doors from inside and shivered.

– My y/n, will you follow me to the balcony? – Apollo passed to your side – There’s something I need to reveal to you, but it has to be in an appropriate place!

And, without waiting for your response, he tightened his grip around your wrist and pulled you across the room, to reach the said balcony.

You passed under an arc with a pair of curtains of a peach shade and found yourself in a place that could serve as a common room of a human house by its largeness, except for the fact that it was uncovered; on it, there was wine, fod and water as well, and a couch twice the size of the ones inside the room, yet none of those objects interfered while you walked among them.

Apollo stopped at the parapet with you by his side. With his arm stretched over it, he indicated the entire view.

– Let your pretty eyes enjoy what’s in front of them with no shame, my dear – he laughed – Trust me, the view of your lands from the Olympus is no match for this!

And you were, in fact, impressed with what you saw.

From there, you were able to spot various things, from the mountains that surrounded the city, passing through the town itself, with its marketplace and daily movement, to nearer places… such as your garden, its open fields and the very spot where you were working this morning when Apollo arrived and abducted you.

Your face burned with the thought.

He has been spying on me from here? Since when…?

You never had the opportunity to inquire him on this, because he had no shame in telling you the whole story.

– Since this Summer started, though I cannot precise the day, I’ve been trapped in this balcony, just as I am now – he turned to you with a strange glimmer in his eyes; you sensed his hand letting go of your wrist and wrapping itself around your waist, bringing you closer as he spoke – I’ve been trapped by you, my flower, for I couldn’t spent one morning without seeing you from here, cherishing with your whole figure, your steps, the work of your hands, all for your precious garden…

You put your hands between you and him, in an attempt to prevent him from approaching even more.

– My Lord, with all the respect, this is my work – you managed to speak – I would never be able to properly take care of a garden if I refused to pour my heart into it…

The god’s response was to widen his already present smile, giving to it a hint of something that would be called presumption if he was a mortal man.

– I know it! I know well how these things work, and for this I am jealous – he caressed your face for an instant, his eyes swallowing each traits of yours with greed – I am jealous of your flowers, of your trees, and everything that has been blessed by the touch of your hands…

You gasped.

– My Lord, I think this is going too fa…

Your words were cut off by his next act, which consisted in wrapping his arms around you and lifting you from the floor, taking you to the couch you saw before, not so far from your spot on the parapet. There he sat you down, then knelt to take off your sandals – of course, without missing the chance to let his fingertips wander through your feet and legs. With no visible ways to escape this situation, you could only observe the scene in silence.

The door is locked, I don’t think I could open it as fast as he closed it, he’s too strong for me to put a physical fight and is too lost in his own fantasies to hear a word I say. I see no solution besides climbing up the parapet and jump.

While this thought was still crossing your mind (and your eyes glancing at the parapet), Apollo was already climbing the couch. You tried to move away, but he was faster: holding your jawline, he pulled you close to him, his lips brushing yours as he spoke.

– I beg you, my little flower… stop making me jealous… pour your heart to me… be mine…

You opened your mouth to speak, to reply, to try and reason with him one last time, to ask for his divine favor and beg him to let you go, but Apollo didn’t even give you the time to breathe: convinced that actions would teach you better than words, he covered your mouth with hungry kisses, his tongue reaching for yours in a hurry, his hands grabbing your body with voracity. With the lack of air, your lungs started to burn and your eyes got filled with tears.

Your hands, still free, pulled him away by his chin; he stared at you in incredulity.

– Please… my Lord… – you forced your words out, alternating them with gasps – Please… reconsider…

For the first time, Apollo seemed to have his patience tested, and the slight twist in the color of his eyes instilled fear in your heart like you’ve never felt before.

– Too late to think, my y/n… It’s time to act.

He pushed himself upon you on the couch and a second kiss happened, longer and hotter. Now that your attempt to stop him failed, desperation was taking over you, leaving you with two choices: letting him continue or dying for opposing to a god’s will.

The latter seemed less painful for you, so you opted for it.

Beside the couch, just like the other seats at that room, there was a small table with a metallic jar on it; you glanced at it when Apollo let go of your mouth and brought his kisses to your neck, and supposed that it was full. An idea came to you, but you had to be careful.

If I fail at this, it’s over for me.

With slow movements, you managed to bring your body closer to the table’s side, taking the god with you, leaving him too occupied in his caresses to notice anything around. You even reciprocated some of his touches to disguise your nervousness, and waited until you were sure that your hand would reach the jar’s wing.

When the moment came, you stretched your left arm… and your fingers closed around its wing, lifting it from the table with all the strength you could find.

Everything happened too fast for your eyes to follow: catching him in a surprise was your only and greatest advantage, and you managed to do it. The jar flew from the table and hit Apollo’s head, forcing him away from you and dropping the laurel wreath from his hair; confirming your prediction, the jar was full, and the water spread all over the place as the metal clanged against the floor.

You wasted no time: you dragged your body out of the couch and fled the balcony, leaving your sandals and a paralyzed, dismayed Apollo behind. You crossed the room like a ray and somehow unlocked the door easily despite your shaking hands; not only this, but you had the nerve to take the key with you and lock the door from outside to slow the man who would certainly come after you.

***

Your feet barely touched the stairs while you walked down. Behind your back, there was still silence, but you knew it wouldn’t take long until Apollo reached the door and found a way to open it, so you wouldn’t stay to see what was going to happen.

You soon were back to the wide room where his worshipers were celebrating, and it was with no surprise that you found them as happy as before, and that, as you joined the crowd to reach the exit, they barely remembered you. Still, you couldn’t help finding it scary to be squeezed and pushed to all sides by those strangers, who screamed, sang and danced with no regard for each other and for themselves, as victims of a sinister spell.

***

The image of you running away from him was the most terrifying of the nightmares.

Apollo could have ran after you, grabbed you and pulled you back to the balcony. He could have also stretched his hand toward you and used his golden threads to wrap your body and force you to stay, to submit to him. He even managed to raise his hand while you turned your back to him and moved away, passing under the arc that separated the balcony to the rest of the room… but he didn’t do anything.

He just stood there, paralyzed by the surprise with your reaction and the resulting dizziness in his head, his vision darkening as he came to the shameful conclusion.

What I did… there was nothing beautiful about it.

***

The sun was higher in the sky when he regained his consciousness and left the balcony. It must have been one hour or two, judging by its position now – long enough for the effects of the strike to diminish. His head hurt so much that he was sure he would be dead if he was human.

He left the balcony and passed by a mirror, not so far from its entry. He spotted the bruise on his forehead and flinched: it was darker, deeper than he first imagined. Not that he should be worried about having a permanent scar, of course, but it would ache for days.

The god crossed the silent room and stopped by the doors. One look to the lock and he noticed the absence of the key; the shadow of a smile came to his lips.

Clever girl. Trying to slow me down.

He raised his left hand and, working with his golden threads, he involved the doors and pushed them out of their hinges, destroying both with a thunderous sound. He walked out of the room in firm steps, the wreckage cracking under his golden sandals as he approached the stairs and walked them down.

In a minute, he has reached the first floor, where his worshipers continued to celebrate, yet this time a wave of uneasiness has spread silently among them, clearly provoked by the sound of wrecking materials upon there.

Of course, he was eager to leave and start chasing after you, but he was empathetic with the ones who were there just to love him, and made sure they were all calmed down by his words; with this, they were free to go back to their worshiping, knowing that their Lord would be back in a few moments.

He left the temple and rushed to the garden, as his feet were led by instinct to the place that first connected you, but it was with no surprise that he saw you weren’t there; you didn’t even use the garden as escape route. Still, his heart didn’t ache less with the sight of your tools on the soil, and your flowers abandoned, for they meant only one thing.

Not only you were gone, but you weren’t coming back.

***

Autumn came sooner to those lands that year.

The Temple of the Sun closed its gates long before the last week of Summer, and the worshipers returned to their homes with a strange weight in their hearts; it was clear that their god wasn’t content, but the reason was only known by himself, and perhaps as an act of mercy, he protected them from his wrath by sending them away, assuring them of their innocence and promising a warmer season of festivities for the next year.

The days quickly became short, and the winds of the new season were colder than they were in the previous years; the city’s inhabitants were caught in a surprise, and even feared what Winter has reserved for them. The streets were empty, the markets saw their clientele grow thin, the richest traveled to distant lands and the common people were hidden inside their houses. In the wild, the beasts and the small creatures were sharing the same difficulties, and just as it happened with the humans, there was no guarantee that they would make it through the longer period of cold.

Apollo, on his turn, stood in that house alone, instead of traveling back to his place and his divine fellows at the Olympus: he missed their company, but had no strength to face them after the ugliness he created; it has been a monstrosity and a shame, and this was something he must endure all by himself. And so he did it, spending his days and nights wandering among the cold walls of marble, inside which the sound of chords, voices of adoration and the wine being poured in the goblets wouldn’t be heard, and the echo of his own steps were his only partner; the fires lightened by his followers stopped making him warm even before they turned into smoke and cinders, the sweetness of their incense made him sick and the golden altars and objects of devotion turned gray to his eyes.

All because of what he did to you. Because in his eagerness to make you stay, he ended up scaring you away, and the sun that should have kept you content and safe almost burned you to death. How, he asked himself, how did he deprive love from its natural beauty, he who lived to exalt the beautiful? But silence was the only thing to reply.

***

Apollo visited your garden every morning, staying there for a while before returning to his temple and to his dark meditations. Protecting his physical form from the cold with a gray cloak, he wandered through the natural walls that were once green, but now had only brown and red to offer to his sight; the grass was now a shadow of what they were, just dried vegetation that would crack and whiter under his feet, and the flowers came undone to the touch of his fingers.

Many times he passed by the spot where he abducted you, and tears would fill his eyes as he looked at the watering can and the tools rotten on the cold soil, useless after so long time without executing their functions. One morning, he even considered touching them, but when he approached his hand no remnants of your spirit could be sensed in them, and he moved away.

Well, your presence just vanished from the garden itself, and even from the town: sometimes, he would disguise himself among the mortals and seek for your face in the corners of the streets, but he knew the search was worthless. You were long gone.

Actually, you left and hid on the other side of the land, and even your acquaintances haven’t heard about you since Autumn began. But even you couldn’t deny that the season was less merciful that year… and it didn’t take long for you to realize it had something to do with the episode at Apollo’s House. Maybe he couldn’t accept that a mortal woman defied him, and decided to punish her entire land in return; or maybe he just decided to leave sooner, and with him Summer has left. It was hard to be sure when it came to the gods.

However, as much as you weren’t willing to try and seek for his favor against your will in order to save the people of the city, innocent and defenseless against Nature, your heart has been yearning for your garden, your true house, where your happiness and strength and life purpose were. You’ve been struggling to stay in your hideout and wait until the god’s wrath was over, but you just couldn’t take it anymore.

One morning, despite the cold and the adversities, you dressed up and traveled back there. You had no idea of what you were going to find once you stepped into your beloved garden, and a thousand nightmares haunted you while you were on your way, and the times when you thought of giving up and return to the hideout weren’t few…

But all of this noise disappeared when you found yourself, in fact, standing before the garden’s gates. A breeze passed by you at that moment, coming from inside the garden, and sent a chill through your body – a chill that reached your heart.

You forced your feet to move ahead.

As you walked, farther from the entry and closer to the depths of the garden, you noticed that the sensation of loneliness that you were anticipating didn’t come. Yes, the flowers were dead, the grass was dry and the birds disappeared from the trees, but you had this strange feeling telling you that you weren’t the only living being wandering among the reddish vegetation.

A sudden instinct led your feet to the very place where your watering can and shears were left the day you were taken away by Apollo. Were they in the same place, still waiting for your return? You’d only know if you reached there.

And you did. And they were there. Covered in dirt, dead leaves and ivy.

But they weren’t alone. Someone was watching them in silence, standing among the desolation as if they were just a part of it that was waiting for you to come back as well.

And, perhaps, they were, for when they turned to you, your heart dropped.

It was him. It was him, there was no way for you to be mistaken.

The golden bright in his eyes has faded away, and so was his smile. The pink of his hair was no longer glowing, and the paleness on his skin was unsettling. He was still the god of the Sun, but the Sun just settled.

Suddenly, you were scared. What if he was there waiting to cease your existence in revenge? What if that was just a vision to deceive you, and you were now in a new trap, from which you had no chance to escape like the first one?

You tried to move your feet, but they wouldn’t obey you. Your heart ached inside you, and your eyes were getting filled with tears.

Is this how I’m going to die, then?

Apollo left his spot and walked toward you. He was still silent, but no sign of his intentions could be sensed, and you were too scared to try and guess them. Still, something wasn’t right – and when you finally had the courage to look straight to his face, you understood what it was.

From his eyes you saw tears rolling. And in his expression there was only room for incredulity and pain. It was when you knew: it wasn’t a vision; it was really him. And he couldn’t believe you were there.

Apollo stopped before you and you flinched, not knowing what to expect. You shut your eyes tight… and no touch, no extravagances nor punishment came.

You opened them again and found the proud god kneeling on the dirt soil, taking his cloak from his shoulders and leaving it beside him on the ground, his eyes glued on you all the time, as if you could disappear at the slightest distraction.

You didn’t know how long you stood like this, having only the winds to voice your anguish, but the silence became unbearable, and you opened your mouth to speak – but, as always, he was faster.

– Forgive me.

Two words only, but enough to shake your spirit and think of how strange reality could become. A god apologizing? When would you imagine such a thing?

– Forgive me, my flower – he repeated, since you stood quiet – For those things I’ve done weren’t but terrifying.

He stretched his hand to touch your clothes, but gave up on the gesture as to prove his feeling of shame.

Again, your heart ached, and your mouth dried out. You couldn’t just stand there with no reaction, no word, after traveling for so long to reunite with your beloved garden. But you didn’t know what to do or what would be right, so you just let your body decide.

You knelt on the soil too, before the astonished god, and didn’t try to stop yourself when you saw your arms throwing themselves around him, your head resting on his shoulder, and your skin shivering to the warmth of that embrace. You should be scared, you should be aware of any spell working at that very moment, you should be disgusted to see him there – but you weren’t.

– Yes, Apollo-sama – you murmured, not recognizing your own voice – They were terrifying. But I’m no longer scared.

And that was true. All your fear was leaving. And with the first signs that the Autumn was going away with it, you were strangely in peace.

[otomehonyaku]

Diabolik Lovers Lost Eden Stellaworth Tokuten Short Stories スペシャル特典小冊子 ☽ Carla ver.

This short story booklet was part of the Stellaworth set for Lost Eden! Keep reading below the cut for Carla’s version. The final two, Shin and Kino, are coming soon!

S ☽ [Ayato’s version by @kyouxa] [Laito’s version by @kyouxa] [Shuu’s version] [Reiji’s version] [Kanato’s version] [Subaru’s version]

M ☽ [Ruki’s version] [Yuma's version] [Kou’s version] [Azusa’s version]

TK ☽ [Carla’s version] [Shin’s version] [Kino’s version]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

As always, special thanks to @karleksmumskladdkaka for providing the scans ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ Please do not reuse or post my translations elsewhere or translate my work into other languages without my permission.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When I slowly opened my eyes, the lovely face that filled my vision inadvertently made my mouth go slack.

Some time had passed since we had returned to Banmaden. My days had been filled to the brim with preparations for the future of the new Founders, but only this small moment, the moment when I got to look at the woman’s sleeping face, could ease my mind.

I lightly stroked her hair so as to not wake her up, but still, she stirred.

“Carla…”

When she called my name, I briefly thought she had woken up, but then her breathing settled once more. She was somehow still sound asleep. She was smiling, too. She must have been having a pleasant dream.

I wondered what she was dreaming about. I had been curious about it for a while… I was determined to ask her once she woke up.

In truth, I did not want to look away from her sleeping face just yet. For a little while, I gave in to that thought, and continued to stroke her soft hair for a little while longer.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After what felt like a long time, she slowly stirred to life, and her still unfocused eyes looked in my direction.

Her sleeping face was already lovely, but her face after she had only just woken up had its charms as well. I decided that it was because I was the only one she showed those kinds of faces to… Although, for me, that was quite a childish sentiment to have.

I would not dare to tell Shin that these were the thoughts of the former King of the Founders, even if my life depended on it.

Her drowsy voice interrupted my thoughts.

“Mm… Carla…?”

“You’re awake?”

She blinked a few times when I called out to her, but then, a soft smile played on her face.

“I am… Good morning.”

“Morning.”

I inclined my head and lowered my hand that had been stroking her hair. I shot my burning question at her right away.

“You were mumbling my name in your sleep earlier… What were you dreaming about?”

“Huh…!?”

Her sleepy eyes snapped wide open in an instant. Her cheeks became redder by the second.

I had already had a hunch, but her reaction proved my hypothesis. Nevertheless, it would not be so bad to hear the words coming from her own mouth.

“What’s wrong? Can you not tell me?”

Having caught her in her embarrassment, she nodded. Her face was still bright red, which only made me want to make her say it out loud even more… I wondered when she would learn.

I embraced her and pulled her close, my lips at her ear.

“That won’t do. I will not let you go until you tell me.”

“That’s…!” She tried to struggle, but I kissed her. Her body immediately stilled in surprise.

“Are you really intent on defying me?” 

When I grinned at her, she held her tongue. Then, after a brief moment of hesitation, she opened her mouth to speak. 

“I dreamt of you and I… and our child, playing together.”

My breath caught in my throat. I had assumed I was involved in the dream, but to think that she would dream of a child…

Caught off guard by her answer, my gaze drifted to her stomach.

A small life. I could feel it inside of her body as I held her in my arms. It was the Founders’ wish, but most of all… it was the proof of our love.

When I thought about it, the child would only make the woman even more dear to me. To think I would be having these thoughts–truly, this woman was deeply important to me.

I laughed abruptly, and she craned her neck to look at me in confusion. As careful as though I might break her body otherwise, I wrapped my arms around her a little tighter.

“In the near future, that dream might become reality.”

The woman smiled at me happily. She wrapped her arms around me, too.

“I suppose so. Let’s do lots of fun things together when the child is born.”

“...Yes. I promise.”

What would become of the Demon World after this? And what would become of the founders? Much was still uncertain about the future.

At least, the light of a new life was waiting for us. When I thought of it that way, my anxieties dissipated. 

As I reflected on my warm feelings, I made a promise in my heart–that I would never lose the two sources of hope that I now held in my arms.

[jovialmoonprincess]

AU: Journey to Redemption (Part 2)

First Part. / The Winter Ball

Coriolanus Snow x Fem!reader 

Summary: Y/N, a young idealist in Panem, dreams of making a difference in a post-war society. As the winner of the prestigious Plinth Prize is about to be announced, a mysterious woman unveils a grim fate for Coriolanus Snow, Y/N's nemesis. Offered a chance to alter destiny, Y/N must navigate her conflicting emotions and intervene in pivotal moments to prevent Snow's descent into darkness. The story unfolds against the backdrop of complex relationships, past connections, and the challenges of a changing world, as Y/N grapples with the responsibility of shaping an unexpected destiny and challenging the very fabric of fate.

Word Count: 2k.

Warning(s): None, 15 yo Corio!! FLUFF FLUFF THE KIISS READ IT FOR THE KISS

A/N: First Fic EVER, dont be mean pls. Also Im not a english native speaker, sorry for any spelling errors. Just saw Songbirds and Snakes and Tom Blyth as President Snow is living rent free in my head! Feedback is appreciated! Comment to be tag in the next part" And REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!

Y/N was nervous. Attending parties wasn't something she was used to, especially in the Capitol. Her father always reminded her not to trust anyone, and distrust had become second nature to her. Tigris, her friend, had borrowed her a dress, even though her father could now afford to buy as many as she wanted. Tigris insisted she needed something special, something she had that would be perfect. When Y/N asked if Tigris was going to wear it, the answer was no; the dress wasn't hers and wouldn't fit, but it would look gorgeous on Y/N. Tigris, with her generous heart, always tried to cheer up Y/N when she cried out of fear and missed her friends from the districts. And surprisingly, Tigris never judged her, perhaps because she shared her own fears and people to care about.

Tigris understood when Y/N called suggesting a girls' night. It was a code for "my father is unbearable, only talks about war, and I want to stay away from him at least tonight." Tigris simply made a list of activities for them, from plucking eyebrows to watching romance movies on TV.

Y/N's dress was stunning, in a bright navy blue shade. And it was the first time she wore heels. Tigris also borrowed her the jewelry. Y/N walked with cautious steps, afraid that someone would look at her and discover she was an imposter. Even though she was part of the Capitol now, she didn't know how people would react.

After almost an hour of pretending to be invisible and enjoying the chocolate dessert on the table, people started leaving the dance floor. They got tired of dancing and were heading for the food, the only activity they seemed to practice. Y/N left the table to get some air; so many people were starting to tire her, even without talking to them yet. Outside, the scenery was beautiful, with a flower-filled garden, water mirrors, and something like an illuminated gazebo. She walked there; it was already night, and she wanted some fresh air. Looking at the night sky was comforting, something shared by everyone, regardless of their districts.

"Hey, this dress looks beautiful on you." She almost had a heart attack; it wasn't for anyone to notice her. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." It was Corio, Tigris's cousin, always kind when he saw her.

"Thank you, it was Tigris…" She couldn't finish the sentence.

"It was my mother's; my grandmother gave it to Tigris, but it suits you much better. Tigris likes things less… simple." A compliment, perhaps?

"Thank you, it's a really beautiful dress." She replied with a smile. Almost too beautiful that it doesn't suit me. She felt guilty for undoing the memory of the boy's mother.

"What are you doing here?" He asked. Y/N couldn't stop looking into his blue eyes; how could someone be so beautiful? It was almost painful.

"I came out to get some air; it was too hot inside." She replied.

"Just when I was about to invite you to dance?" He smiled; my God, he looked even more beautiful smiling. Y/N! What's happening to you?? He's from the Capitol. You shouldn't be getting involved with these people, at least not sincerely.

"Oh, I don't know how to dance." She lied; what if he leaves and forgets that she's wearing his mother's dress. Maybe that's why he's here; he must have confused his feelings. After all, why else would he approach her? Oh, maybe he just wants to be friends with his cousin's friend. Could be, right?

"I can teach you." He was already so close to her; she could feel her heart beating in her throat. "If you want…" He extended his hand to her, and Y/N took it. What harm could it do, after all?

The touch of their skins was electrifying. He placed a hand on her waist, and she breathed; it was as if there wasn't enough air between them. She didn't even realize she was holding her breath. The music could be heard clearly from there, as well as the sound of their feet on the wooden floor.

"Tigris talks a lot about you. I think you're the only friend she really likes. She feels at home with you." There was sincerity in his words.

"We have very similar stories; I also went hungry during the first rebellion." Corio was an intriguing character; Y/N didn't know what his real intentions were. He seemed like a good guy, even if he was closed off.

"I heard your father is sick, is it true?" He seemed slightly concerned. Y/N met Trigis first, because of their parents. They became good friends despite the age difference.

"Oh, yes, it seems that sometimes winning a battle doesn't mean winning the war. The battle ends, but life goes on, and problems still arise." She spoke with a sad and thoughtful voice.

"It's kind of unfair, isn't it?" He asked as they continued to dance slowly.

"What?"

"Having to worry about hunger while there are people inside who claim to be hungry all the time, even without knowing the real meaning." She didn't expect to hear that, at least not from him. Corio seemed quite comfortable among his friends.

"Yes, it's unfair." She replied seriously. "I wish I could change all of this."

"You know, people like you, me, and Tigris. We deserve more; we have to strive to reach the top." Corio was ambitious; anyone could see that.

"I think we're already at the top." Whether she liked it or not, feeling hungry in the Capitol was different from living in the outer districts. At least here, they had a chance to be heard if they spoke at the right time.

"This isn't the top, Y/N." She didn't know how much she needed to hear him say her name until he said it for the first time. "We're in the Capitol, but we're still not at the top."

"What would be the top for you, Corio?"

"Being president. It's the highest position; I'm sure that when I get there, I can really do something." The way he spoke was as if he wanted to improve the country's situation. To be a fair and democratic leader.

"Sorry about the dress; I didn't know it was your mother's." Y/N didn't want to ruin the moment by talking about politics. They would have better opportunities for that.

Tigris probably said something about Corio's mother, but Y/N's memory was terrible.

"It's been a while since she died, in my sister's birth." She could see a glimpse of pain in his eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"The dress looks beautiful on you; I'm glad my grandmother kept it." Y/N's heart skipped a beat.

"Thank you."

All was silent. All was still. But as they looked at each other's eyes, they heard the unmistakable clamor of their own hearts. Corio was getting closer to her, his lips so close to hers. It was like one of the movies she watched with Tigris.

When their lips touched, something ignited inside Y/N; it was as if nothing else existed. It was a feeling that, if cultivated, promised to become addictive, a sweet dependence that she wouldn't be in a hurry to overcome. His lips were soft, an irresistible invitation, and his touch was like a gentle caress, unhurried, as if he wanted to savor every moment of that unique moment. One of Corio's hands held Y/N's waist with care, while the other stroked her face gently and firmly, as if sealing a silent pact between them. The kiss was like a hot summer day in the middle of winter, a comforting surprise that transported her to a place where there was only the softness of Corio's lips and the delicate and firm touch of his hands.

It was a kiss that transcended time and space, a promise of something deeper and more intense that awaited on the horizon. Breaking the kiss, the gaze they exchanged contained the promise of a future that, at that moment, seemed full of exciting possibilities. The world around them may have continued in silence, but within them, the melody of that kiss would echo for a long time.

The first kiss was a revelation, a sublime experience that transcended circumstances. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to attribute part of this enchantment to the beauty of the setting, but above all to the even more dazzling figure of Coriolanus. At that moment, for the first time, Y/N felt truly beautiful, removed from the ruthless clutches of war. It was as if, for a brief moment, she found the calm before the storm.

Although she wanted to prolong the kiss, Y/N interrupted it, yielding to the inevitable need for a pause. Their gazes intertwined in silence, a communication deeper than any words could express. Coriolanus's eyes, an ocean of blue fascination, were irresistible, and Y/N felt submerged in the intensity of that gaze. Withdrawing gently, she sought refuge on a nearby bench, and Corio, in silence, took a seat beside her. Hesitation hung between them, neither daring to initiate the next exchange of words.

"Did you enjoy the chocolate dessert, didn't you?" Corio's soft voice broke the silence, eliciting a sincere laugh from Y/N. Had he noticed the taste of chocolate on her lips, or had he just watched her during the dance in the hall? The question lingered in the air, hovering between them, lacking the courage to be asked.

"I loved it," confessed Y/N, although she couldn't determine if she was talking about the dance, the dessert, or the kiss. Perhaps all the options were correct.

"You lied to me," accused the young Snow.

"What?" Y/N laughed again.

"You said you didn't know how to dance." The accusation came with a smile from Corio.

"Maybe," she replied, smiling.

Hours unfolded in deep conversations, a natural harmony between Y/N and Corio. Words flowed, laughter echoed, and the kiss, a magical moment that both chose to ignore, was never mentioned again. Corio, a dreamer aligned with Y/N's aspirations, revealed remarkable ambition and unwavering confidence. Meanwhile, Y/N still struggled with uncertainties about her destiny, eager to capture some of the determination radiating from Corio.

It was the ultimate moment when Y/N felt truly connected to Corio. At that moment, she sincerely believed that he was destined for an extraordinary future as a student in the Capitol. With the passage of time, that memory became nostalgic, a pearl of an irrecoverable past.

In present times, in the Capitol (4 years later)

Y/N, immersed in reverie, contemplated a photo taken with Tigris during the ball. After this glimpse of the past, resentment towards Corio increased. How could he get so close so quickly and distance himself just as fast? They could have continued. However, after that winter break that year, Snow didn't spend more than 5 seconds near her. Their interactions were limited to fights, but even so, Y/N couldn't ignore the boy's beauty.

A last dance preceded the Plinth Prize weekend. It would be an opportunity to meet Corio again, four years after that memorable kiss, in drastically altered circumstances. Y/N awaited eagerly, sometimes questioning her sanity, pondering if everything that woman had said would come true. Corio would graduate, go to university, meet someone, and find happiness. He wouldn't become a murderer, let alone a dictator.

Y/N couldn't help but notice that something had changed in Corio since that first kiss. The boy who was once dreamy and affable now exhibited a more closed-off side, as if a shadow had settled in his soul. Every word was measured, and his smiles were scarce, replaced by a serious and concerned expression.

Corio had become more abrupt, and the lightness that characterized his personality seemed to have been replaced by intense seriousness. Y/N noticed that he closed himself off, keeping a distance that didn't exist before. That touch of softness and charm, present in the boy who taught her to dance and gave her an unforgettable kiss, had turned into an aura of tension.

Y/N remembered one of their first fights.

In a classroom full of tension and academic expectations, the teacher announced with a firm voice, "For the next assignment, we'll have randomly assigned pairs." The students' gazes met, a mixture of anxiety and curiosity. Among them were Y/N and Corio, both already known for their rivalries and fierce competitions.

The draw took place, and fate decided that Y/N and Corio would be partners in the next academic endeavor. A wave of murmurs ran through the room, accompanied by intrigued looks directed at the two protagonists.

On a cold study afternoon in the library, Y/N was immersed in her books, tracing meticulous notes and underlining important passages. Corio, on the other hand, flipped through pages with a serious expression, focused on absorbing all available knowledge.

As the hours passed, tension grew. Each had their own approach to the task, and soon the differences became apparent. Y/N preferred to explore ideas and theories more broadly, while Corio delved into specific details, prioritizing accuracy.

"You need to focus, Y/N. These assignments will shape our academic future," said Corio, his tone a mixture of concern and impatience.

Y/N lifted her eyes from the books, facing Corio with a resistant expression. "I'm not disregarding the importance, Corio. I just believe that there are more ways to learn than simply burying yourself in books all the time."

Y/N's words hit Corio like a challenge, and his response came with an unexpected intensity. "Do you think you can afford not to dedicate yourself entirely to studies? The competition here is fierce, Y/N, and only the best succeed." The discussion unfolded, and sharp words flew between them like arrows. Y/N advocated the idea that university life should be more than just grades and rankings, while Corio insisted that the path to success was paved with tireless effort and dedication.

The tension reached its peak when Y/N, driven by frustration, accused Corio of having lost the ability to dream and live beyond academic expectations. Corio, in turn, responded with the accusation that Y/N was being naive and reckless about her future.

The argument, fueled by intense emotions and fundamental differences, echoed through the silent library, drawing curious glances from other students trying to focus on their own studies. As the inflamed words dissipated, Y/N and Corio stared at each other, aware that they had crossed a line separating their views, revealing the depth of the differences that now threatened the stability of their relationship. The ensuing silence was laden with resentment and the bitter feeling that something significant, beyond grades and books, was shattering between them.

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Just wanted to drop a quick note to say a massive thank you for all the love, likes, comments, and follows on my story. <3

Big virtual hugs and high-fives to each and every one of you. See you on Part III.

Taglist: @shari-berri @h-l-vlovesvintage @tea-bobba @daenerysqueenofhearts

Again: REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!!

[pedroscurls]

Title: The Teacher (Part 1).

CHAPTER TITLE: Welcome to Jackson

Character(s): Joel Miller, Reader (female, first person POV), Tommy Miller, Maria Miller Summary: You have been on your own for over a year and after Maria saves you and brings you to Jackson, you try and settle in, doing your best to contribute to the community. Though, it doesn’t help that your neighbor, Joel Miller, reminds you of a special person from before the outbreak.  Word Count: 3,872 Author's Note: I’m still getting used to writing Joel Miller (and Pedro Pascal stories in general), but this idea has been on my mind for weeks now and I hope you all enjoy. Thanks for reading!  Warning: None.

You were dirty, exhausted, and starving when you arrived in Jackson. A woman named Maria found you, passed out in the middle of a field; she was sure that you were dead, but when your eyes opened and you scrambled to grab your gun, she knew that you were very much alive. 

You didn’t know if you were dead or dreaming, but you were sure this wasn’t real. Jackson was a real community, a resemblance of the old world, and you were in utter disbelief. 

Maria must have taken notice of the look on your face because she let out a soft chuckle and looked over at you.

“Welcome to Jackson.”

“T–This is real?” Your throat felt dry and your voice came out as a whisper. Being alone for over a year meant you rarely spoke. Your voice sounded foreign to you, almost as if it didn’t belong to you.

“Very real. My father and I built this community, trying to bring back some semblance of the old world.” Maria smiled. “My husband helps me run this community and you’ll meet him later. As of right now, how about we get you showered, some clean clothes, and then some food?”

Your eyes widened.

“You have water? Food?”

Maria just smiled. She would never get tired of that expression on people’s faces when they see Jackson for the first time. She took pride in it, being able to restore what once was. 

“Yes, we do.”

“I’m not dead, right?”

Maria chuckled. “I can assure you that you aren’t. Come. Follow me.”

You felt out of place as she walked you through the community. Everyone was polite, nodding in Maria’s direction and flashing you a smile once they saw that you were with her. 

You almost bumped into Maria once she stopped walking, your eyes taking in all of Jackson. You muttered an apology and she simply just smiled, nodding her head.

“Don’t worry about it. We’re here.”

“Here? It’s a house.”

Maria chuckled, leading her inside. You noticed two men sitting on a couch in the living room. One had slightly longer hair while the other man had shorter hair, however, both men had a beard and when the longer haired man stood, you immediately went to stand behind Maria. You had encountered plenty of men since the outbreak and not all of them were pleasant. 

“Hi baby,” he said, leaning over to kiss Maria’s cheek. He gave you a polite smile and you noticed the way Maria leaned against him. This was her husband. “Who’s this?”

She said your name and stepped to the side so that you could face Tommy. You didn’t meet his eyes though, staring down at your feet as you tried to make sense of what this was. 

Were they just putting up a facade of being nice? 

Was this place too good to be true? 

“Well, nice to meet ya. I’m Tommy,” he smiled. He pointed over his shoulder and referred to the other man on the couch. “That old man over there is my older brother, Joel. Be a gentleman and say hello.”

Joel grunted, waving a hand in the air. “Howdy.”

“He’s a grouch,” Tommy teased. 

You actually giggled, a smile lining your lips. It had been a long time since you heard that sound escape your lips. You finally looked up at him, noticing the friendly look behind his eyes and then looked over his shoulder at Joel. 

“You’re okay,” Maria said, noticing your timidness. “I promise you, you’re safe here.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just– It’s all overwhelming,” you admitted. 

“That’s understandable. Well, you’re in good hands with Maria and I’m not only sayin’ that because she’s my wife,” he winked. 

Joel finally stood from the couch and walked over to the trio. He looked down at you and tilted his head, pocketing a hand in his jeans. 

“Welcome to Jackson,” he said.

You looked up at him, getting a good look at the other man. There was something about him that reminded you of someone you knew, of your old world, and it broke your heart. You just nodded in his direction before looking over at Maria, pleading with your eyes to bring you elsewhere but here. She noticed the look on your face and cleared her throat, motioning towards the stairs. 

“Come on. I’ll show you where the bathroom is.” 

Joel looked over at Tommy, furrowing a brow. “I say somethin’ wrong?”

Tommy shrugged. “I don’t think so, but you gotta admit… Jackson is pretty overwhelming for someone who has been out there for too long and from the looks of it, she seems like she’s been on her own for a while.”

Joel sighed. “Sure.” He knew what Tommy was referring to; when he and Ellie first arrived at Jackson, it was all so surprising to him too. “Makes sense.”

Both men moved back to the living room, sitting on the couch and each grabbing their beers. They glanced in the direction of the stairs when they saw Maria descending them. She walked over to the couch and sat next to Tommy, taking a deep breath. 

“She okay?” Joel asked.

Maria and Tommy looked at him. Normally Joel didn’t really care or bother to ask about a newcomer’s wellbeing. 

“What?” he asked, taking note of the couple’s looks. 

“Nothin’.” Tommy replied.

Maria cracked a smile before looking over at Tommy. “She’s in rough shape.”

“Where’d ya find her?”

“On one of my routes. I thought she was dead,” Maria sighed. “She was alone and looks like she’s been alone for a while.”

“That’s what I assumed too,” Tommy replied. “Know anythin’ about her?”

“She used to be a teacher,” Maria answered. “But that’s all I know.” 

“A teacher, huh?” Tommy asked. “That might be useful here in Jackson since we got little ones runnin’ around. Could be good to start a school.”

Maria nodded. “That’s exactly what I was thinking. Sounded like she loved teaching and getting her to talk about it helped her understand that I wasn’t a threat.”

“You? A threat?” Tommy scoffed. “Please.”

Maria narrowed her eyes, gently slapping his arm which caused a snicker to come from Joel. 

“Y’all are sure entertainin’,” he commented.

“By the way, there’s one house available that I was thinking she could move into…” Maria began, glancing between the Miller brothers. 

Tommy arched a brow in her direction. “And where’s that?”

“Next to Joel. I was noticing the way she was looking around and how overwhelmed she looked… Plus, she’s alone and she don’t need a big house. The one next to Joel’s is perfect for a single person.”

Joel shrugged. “I don’t really get a say in this, do I?”

Maria shook her head. “Nope, but I figure I let you know.”

“Well, thanks, that’s kind of you,” he teased playfully. 

“You just gotta promise to be a good neighbor,” Tommy laughed. “You know, be nice and… Well, neighborly.” 

Joel rolled his eyes. “I am nice.”

“You come off as a bit of a grouch.”

“I gotta agree,” Maria chimed.

“Okay, okay. I’ll be on my best behavior,” he scoffed. 

Before the trio could start talking again, you descended the stairs after the much needed shower. Your hair had grown and you pulled it into a single braid, strands of hair falling from your face. You were dressed in clothes that Maria had given you, thankful that they fit and actually felt quite comfortable. 

You were dressed in dark jeans with a dark t-shirt underneath a flannel. The boots, however, felt like clouds on your feet. It had been a long time since you felt this comfortable and this good. You tried to tell yourself that this was too good to be true, to not let your guard down, but it was difficult. This place had running water, food, clothes, and people who seemed genuinely nice. 

Joel immediately looked in your direction. Even before the shower, he had felt an immediate pull to you and he couldn’t quite put his finger on the reason why. Instead, he told himself to keep his distance, even now that he knew you would be his new next door neighbor. He didn’t need for his small circle to get bigger, so when you descended the stairs and met his gaze, he stood and pointed towards the front door. 

“I’m gonna get goin’,” he muttered, turning on his heel. “It was nice meetin’ ya.” He called out before leaving Tommy and Maria’s house in a hurry. The couple looked between each other and shared a knowing look before their attention was shifted to you. 

“You hungry?” Tommy was the first to break the silence once Joel left. “I can make a really good omelet,” he smiled.

Maria nodded in agreement. “He’s right. His omelets are pretty good.” 

“Sure,” you replied, looking between the couple. “I just feel like I’m imposing and–”

“Not at all,” Maria reassured. “We just wanna get to know you first before we show you where you’ll be staying.”

“Staying?”

Tommy stood and walked into the kitchen and you decided to take a seat next to Maria on the couch, looking over at the other woman. 

“There’s a small house nearby. It’s perfect,” she replied. 

“I’m fine with just a bed and–”

Maria nodded, saying your name to interrupt you. “Listen, Jackson is… We strive to provide a safe haven. All of us here have seen and encountered some very difficult situations. I promise you, you will be fine here.”

“Well, I have to contribute somehow.” You replied. 

“Of course. Tommy and I were already talking about the perfect job for you.”

“You have?”

Maria nodded. “We’ve been meaning to open up a school since we have lots of kids here, but could never find the right teacher.”

Your eyes lit up. Before the outbreak, you had been a teacher of all ages; elementary, middle, and high school generally. You loved being a teacher, enjoyed seeing your students and helping them succeed. So, when the world ended, it pained you to even think about where your students might be or what could have happened to them. You had such a big heart; you weren’t cut out for this new world, but you learned how to survive and how to protect yourself. 

“Really?” You finally replied. “I– I would be honored to teach the kiddos.”

“I remember seeing your face light up when we talked about what you used to do before Outbreak Day and well, it seems like the perfect job for you.” 

“Is there a catch?” You asked hesitantly. Again, it seemed too good to be true. 

Maria shook her head. “No catch, just avoid getting into trouble, contribute to the community, be civil with everyone… It’s basic–”

“Common sense,” you finished. “I honestly can’t thank you enough.”

“Like I said, Jackson’s a safe haven. We’re glad to have you.” 

Tommy interrupted the conversation to bring you a plate. The aroma of food filled your senses and once you received the plate, you didn’t hesitate to scarf down the contents, not even bothering to savor the taste.

“Whoa,” Tommy chuckled. “You might wanna slow down there or else you’ll get sick.”

You felt slightly embarrassed, nodding your head and swallowing the food in your mouth. “Sorry. It’s just– It’s been a while. I can’t believe you have eggs.”

“Yeah, it’s quite amazing actually. We’ve got a farm here in Jackson. We even have a butcher shop, a bar…”

You couldn’t believe it. You looked between Tommy and Maria before continuing to eat. “Thank you,” you repeated. “Thank you both.”

Tommy nodded, looking over at you. “So, Maria tells me you were a teacher.”

“Yeah. I loved teaching,” you smiled to yourself. “Each day was always different.” 

“You must have a lot of patience,” he chuckled.

“Something like that, yeah.”

“You married?” Tommy asked.

You choked on your food, looking up at him and back at Maria who looked to be scolding him with her eyes. 

“Damn, I’m sorry,” Tommy said. “Listen, you ain’t gotta–”

“Yes, I was married,” you interrupted him. You figure they wanted to know more about your life, about how you had survived this long; they didn’t only want to know what your line of work was before the world ended.

Maria looked over at you with soft eyes. “We’re so sorry…”

You sighed. “It’s okay, really.”

“Do you mind if I ask–”

“He died before Outbreak day, if that’s what you both are wondering.” You bit your lower lip, looking down at your plate and suddenly not feeling very hungry. You had dedicated yourself to your work when your husband unexpectedly passed. 

Maria sighed. “How long before Outbreak day?”

“Five years before,” you sighed. 

Tommy cursed under his breath and looked over at Maria. He had never thought he would settle down and to think that losing Maria only made him reach out to her and rest a hand protectively on her thigh.

“What–”

“Car accident,” you interrupted Tommy. “My husband was on his way back home from getting dinner. It was just– It was a terrible accident.” 

“How long were you two together?” Maria asked.

You smiled sadly. You could still remember the sound of his voice, the scent of his cologne every morning, the feel of his strong arms around you and the feel of his lips. He was truly your soulmate, your partner and losing him hurt just as much. 

“We met in high school. He was a couple of years older than me. We were high school sweethearts,” you replied with a sad smile. “We got married very young.”

Tommy immediately reached for Maria’s hand, lacing his fingers with hers instantly. It definitely made him grateful for the woman who was sitting next to him and Maria instinctively leaned against him. 

“We had a good life together,” you added. “It wasn’t long enough, but I was still grateful for the amount of time and the memories we shared.” 

“Did you both have any kids?” Maria asked.

You shook your head. “We tried, for a long time, but we found out I couldn’t get pregnant and so, being a teacher kind of filled that void. My students were my children,” you smiled sadly, bringing a hand to wipe your tears. “Sorry. It’s been a while since I talked about my old life. Seems like a very distant memory now.”

“Looks like you’ve been a fighter from the beginning,” Maria said. 

You shrugged. You never considered yourself a fighter, instead, you were just the type of person to just keep pushing forward, take it day by day. It didn’t make it any easier, but you were grateful that your husband wasn’t around to see what this world had become. 

Tommy nodded in agreement, glancing over at the front door as his mind drifted to Joel, the childhood they shared, and his life before Outbreak day. 

“You ready to go see where you’ll be staying?” Tommy asked.

You nodded. “Sure, but like I said, I’m fine with–”

Maria interrupted with a smile. “You ain’t winning this argument. Come on.”

You set your plate aside and followed Maria and Tommy out of their house. Once again, you were taken aback by your surroundings. Jackson did genuinely seem like a good place to be at and you internally decided to give this place a chance. You knew what it was like outside of these walls and you were more than capable of taking care of yourself, so you decided it would be nice to just… Not fight anymore. Not unless you had to. 

Once your house came to view, you noticed Joel sitting on his porch with a guitar and a cup at a small table nearby. He set the guitar down and nodded in your direction before going into his home. 

“Wait, he’s my neighbor?” You asked.

“Will that be a problem? I promise, he’s a big softie inside.” Tommy chuckled. 

You shook your head. You glanced over at the house next door and bit your lower lip; you knew there was just something about Joel that reminded you of your husband, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. 

“No, not at all. I was just wondering. He just– It didn’t seem like he liked me.”

Maria chuckled, “That’s just Joel, but I promise you, he’s a really good man.” 

Tommy nodded in agreement. “He also lives with a young girl named Ellie, so you might see her around as well.”

“I’m just grateful to be here,” you replied. “Thank you again.”

They led you into the home and you were overwhelmed once more. You looked around and let tears fill your eyes at the sight. It was small and cozy, already furnished with the necessary furniture and decorations. 

“You’re surprised,” Tommy noticed. 

“I just– It’s like this isn’t real,” you replied. “Like I’ve died and this is what the afterlife is.”

Maria chuckled, “Well, I think that’s quite the compliment.”

Tommy smiled, “Maria and her father worked hard to build this community and we’re just trying to resemble life before the outbreak.”

You bit your lower lip. “How do you know who to take in and who to push away?”

Maria and Tommy looked at each other. “Let’s just say we follow our gut feeling.”

You shook your head, looking between the couple. “And your gut is always right?”

Maria shrugged, “Everyone deserves a second chance. This new world has caused all of us to do things we would never do, but we honestly believe that people’s morality is still there… Somewhere.”

You sighed in relief, looking at Maria. You didn’t know what you deserved to have been saved by her, to be here in Jackson, but you were grateful. It sounded like the people of this community were genuinely nice people and it was a change of pace from the groups you had been in before. 

Maybe you would be able to develop friendships, let your guard down, allow yourself to live again. 

“I don’t think I can ever thank you enough,” you told Maria. “I’m so grateful…”

Maria gently placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. “We were meant to meet and I’m a firm believer that things happen for a reason.”

“Me too,” you smiled. “And I can’t wait to start teaching.”

Tommy grinned, “That’s great to hear. I’m sure the other families will be excited too. For now, how about you take a couple of days to get yourself settled and we can discuss everything later?”

Maria nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I agree. We’ll get things settled on our end and meet back with you so that we’re all on the same page.”

“That sounds great, thank you.”

“And if you need anything, you know where we live,” Tommy said. “And Joel’s right next door also.”

You bit your lower lip. 

Joel.

“Thank you,” you repeated. 

When the couple left your home, you looked around and sighed to yourself. It was hard to relax, but you used this time to walk around and get yourself acquainted with your new house. In the living room, there was a bookcase attached to the wall with a loveseat and sofa seated in the middle. To the left of your living room was a small, rounded dining table with a cozy looking kitchen. You imagined yourself cooking again and it brought you such excitement. Then, down the hall, you noticed the bathroom to the left and right across was a bedroom. Stepping inside, your eyes widened at the large bed in the middle with two nightstands on either side. There was also a large dresser facing the bed with a mirror attached. 

It was truly cozy and perfect for just one person. 

You immediately went to the bed and fell back onto it, feeling the softness of the mattress bring you immediate comfort. It had been so long since you had fallen asleep on a mattress and you curled into a ball, finding yourself drifting. 

You were exhausted and now that you felt safe, you had fallen into a deep slumber. Though, you were only asleep for a couple of hours before you jolted awake. You glanced around the bedroom, blinking away the sleep as you remembered where you were. The sun was peering through your window, showcasing that it was near sunset, so you walked to your kitchen, rummaging through the cupboards. You found a glass and filled it with water from the sink, downing the contents. 

Then, you walked out onto your porch and smiled at the sight of the sky. It was beautiful. There was a hint of orange and red in the blue sky, noticing the sun slowly beginning to set. Before you could look around, you heard his voice. 

“Hey,” Joel called out. 

You walked over to the end of your porch near his house and saw him lean against his railing with a cup in his hand.

“Hi.”

Joel cleared his throat, bringing his cup to his lips. He was staring at you and he didn’t know exactly what else to say. He didn’t even know why he started a conversation in the first place, but once again, when he saw you, he felt himself wanting to get closer, to get to know you, and he didn’t know why.

“Sorry,” he started. “Um, how d’ya like your place?”

You glanced over your shoulder and smiled to yourself. “It’s cozy. I still can’t believe this place exists, if I’m being honest with you.”

Joel let the corner of his lips turn upwards, glancing over at the sky and noticing how there was a glow around you that he found himself captivated by. It had been such a long time since he had felt this way and it was as if he didn’t know how to act. 

“Yeah. Jackson can be a bit overwhelming,” Joel replied. “Maria mentioned you were a teacher?”

You smiled over at him. Joel found himself biting his lower lip at the sight of your smile. “I was, yeah. Maria and Tommy mentioned starting a school for the kids in this community and wanted me to teach, so I guess I’m gonna be teaching again.”

“Oh?” Joel tilted his head. “You excited?”

“Very,” you replied. 

Joel nodded, dropping his eyes down to his boots. He wanted to invite you over to his porch, so you both could talk more, to be closer, rather than at a distance. 

You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, noticing his quiet demeanor and how he looked to be in deep thought. You bit your lower lip, finding yourself wanting to talk to him more. 

“Have you seen all of Jackson yet?” Joel asked. 

You shook your head. “I feel like I could get lost,” you teased.

Joel smiled. “Well, would ya like a tour?”

“Are you gonna be my tour guide?” You teased. 

Joel nodded, “I’ll make sure you won’t get lost.”

You felt butterflies in your tummy and your cheeks heating up at the offer. You couldn’t help but allow the smile to line your lips once more. “You promise?” 

“With me, you’ll be in good hands, darlin’.”

---

Part 2.

[5eraphim]

Oof sorry for another one but can you do something where engi and you have your first date together at his house, but you have a tiny bit of an odd feeling about him. He's very sweet, but almost overly nice. He offers to make dinner for you and you say yes, but what you don't know is that he put aphrodisiacs in your food.

These prompts were so fire! So freaking fun to write for, thank you for these!!! I feel like ever since I've been writing short stories I've wanted to write a "you don't love me, you love how being loved make you feel" confrontation between reader and their yandere- very cathartic to finally get that scene out of my head and into a finished work!

Title: Birthday Cake

Rating: X (MINORS DNI, YOU KNOW THIS ISNT FOR YOU)

Content Warnings: MAJOR daddy kink, dub-con, spanking, aphrodisiacs, yandere, toxic relationship, forced intimacy, fingering, possessiveness

Word Count: 7k

MASTER LIST

TIP JAR

"In my dreams I am kissing your mouth and you're whispering 'where have you been?' I say, 'I've been lost but I'm here now. You're the only person who has wver been able to find me.'" unknown title, Sue Zhao

You should've known better than to give in to the kindness of strangers. Well, perhaps not strangers, but the excessive displays of affection from your teammate Engie had long since worn out their novelty. You'd only been a member of the team for a few months yet, ever since then, Engie'd taken a certain special liking to you, something which bothered you right away. It wasn't your style to accept being fussed over by anyone, but no matter how you tried to politely push him away, he never seemed to take the hint. 

What really surprised you was his latest act of kindness, inviting you to his place to share a meal together. A birthday dinner, his treat. You knew you never told him your birthday or anyone else for that matter, and you couldn't even guess how he found out or how long he'd known, and honestly, you weren't sure you wanted to know. You initially tried to politely decline, planning to make up some lie about plans to call family after work to celebrate. But he was stubborn, absolutely refusing to take no for an answer.

Something about his forwardness bothered you, but still, there were worse ways to spend a birthday, and you agreed to meet up at his place later that night. Giving you a comfortable amount of time to get cleaned up and changed out of your work clothes before you found yourself at the address he provided you earlier. Knocking at the door, you tried to ignore your rising anxieties and let yourself believe Engie was your friend and you had no reason to be so skittish. Perhaps a little too friendly sometimes, but not someone who would ever hurt you.

Engie held the door open for you as you entered, leading you through the kitchen; the smell of well-seasoned food cooking on the stovetop and roasting in the oven overtook you before you entered. While you'd never actually stepped foot in Engie's home, it looked exactly how you'd imagined. A cozy rustic kitchen with a wood stove, gingham-printed curtains and tablecloth, and a grand wooden table in the center, modestly set for two. You could hear the lazy strumming of some folk song on the small radio on the dark wood of the kitchen counter over the crackling of the low fire burning in the furnace on the other side of the room. Engie lived alone, but you knew he regularly invited family over; the dinner table alone could easily sit 10, but something about the sight of the massive table set for only two made it look so lonely, and you couldn't help but imagine how empty it must look set for only one as Engie was no doubt used to.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Engie's eyes following you as you made your way inside, and you wondered when was the last time he'd had non-blood-related company over. While you were still a bit uncomfortable with his forwardness, you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt and believe he was just nervous, and you had no reason to feel uncomfortable around him. He was your friend, an ally, surely not one who would mean you any harm. 

You sat at one of the seats set for dinner, watching as he prepared two plates. Before he even opened the oven, the smell of Texan comfort food hung heavy in the kitchen and dining room. He kept the dishes he'd made in the oven to keep warm until you showed up, and judging by the considerable pile of dirty bowls and utensils piled by the sink, you reckoned he must've spent hours cooking. Watching from the table, you heard Engie humming as he pulled out a few deep dish bowls, unlidding them before loading up the two plates. He piled on roasted vegetables, mashed potatoes, and thick cuts of meat you couldn't quite identify coated in a rich dark sauce, which were just the first things you noticed him dishing. 

He said to you from over his shoulder, "There's biscuits on the table for you if you need something to nibble while you're waiting." Like you were even that hungry. But if the biscuits were half as appetizing as what he was dishing out, you were certainly tempted. You pulled one from the cloth-covered basket in the center of the table and bit into the still-warm biscuit, watching him approaching with two full plates in hand.

"I made sweet tea fresh this morning; care for a glass?" Before you could say yes, he was already turning back around to fetch the pitcher from the fridge.

"You really pulled out all the stops tonight, huh?" You were joking, though simultaneously were genuinely overwhelmed by his generosity. He just chuckled, and you thought you heard him muttering something under his breath along the lines of, "Anything for you."

For a few minutes, you chatted politely, listening to the radio, enjoying the home-cooked meal, and feeling the stress of the day melting away as you genuinely enjoyed the taste of his cooking. 

"You made this all yourself?"

"Sure did! But it's all mamma's old recipes. You oughtta be thankin' her... How'd I do?" He smiled and tried to look modest, but the look in his eyes said, "I know it's perfect." 

"It's amazing; she must've taught you well." You saw a light blush coloring his cheeks and the tips of his ears as he looked down with a big smile. You hadn't expected he would get so flustered over such a simple statement. Though now that you thought about it, Engie was a bit friendlier this evening than normal, which for him was saying something. Perhaps it was for the best you tried to leave now before he got too carried away. Pulling away from the table slightly, you pushed your plate forward.

"Well, this has been wonderful, but I've had enough. Thank you so much for all this; you're so sweet." To your surprise, Engie's smile faltered for just a moment.

"You didn't finish…" He didn't look mad, but his face didn't entirely mask his disappointment. 

"It's been a long day, Engie, but I'm about ready to crawl into bed… You aren't upset, are you?"

He perked right up after you said, "Aw shucks, of course not! I understand! I'm not upset. I just hoped I'd get the chance to give you one last thing." 

Engie stood from his chair before you could ask what he meant by this, pulling something from the fridge, hiding it close to his chest, and out of sight from you. While you didn't know exactly what he was hiding, you consoled yourself by acknowledging, at least, whatever it was; it must've been quite small. He fidgeted with the thing for a moment before shutting the door to the fridge.

Engie smiled sheepishly, turning around, holding on to a little teacup saucer holding a miniature cupcake so small it could fit in the palm of your hand. A single little yellow birthday candle flickering on top.

"Engie, I can't accept this-'' You forced a nervous laugh while you felt guilty for letting him spoil you with dinner earlier; the cupcake made you feel even worse. 

"Sure I did; it's your birthday, ain't it?" He drew closer, depositing the little treat before you as the candle continued to burn, little trails of wax dripping down the sides. You were conflicted, feeling a combination of obligation to accept the gift he'd been saving for last and not wanting to take anything more from Engie after he'd done so much already. While you admittedly didn't eat too much of the dinner he prepared, just enough to show gratitude for his efforts and to keep him from noticing how you kept cutting up the food into tiny pieces, pushing them around on your plate. While you felt bad about wasting the food, you knew you'd be sick if you tried to force yourself to eat it all. 

There was no way you could get away with doing that with this. But you had to admit, it was pretty cute, and you didn't have the heart to turn him down now that that cupcake was right under your nose. Closing your eyes briefly, you inhaled before blowing out the candle, wishing silently to yourself out of this charmingly claustrophobic kitchen as fast as possible. Pulling the candle from the top of the cupcake, you held it in your hand for a moment before taking a bite.

You could've sworn you felt an oddness in the cake's texture for a split second when you swallowed. The cake was denser than you expected but tasted just as appetizing as it looked; you finished the tiny cake in a few bites. 

Engie smiled warmly, reaching over and squeezing your shoulder, "Happy birthday, buddy'." 

You were about to say something when you felt a bizarre warm feeling in the pit of your stomach, not unpleasant, just a little tingly. You took a deep breath, repositioning yourself in your seat, feeling a bit hot under the collar out of nowhere. Clearing your throat, you thought maybe the cupcake went down wrong, and there was a perfectly valid reason you felt so heated out of nowhere, but internally you felt a twinge of panic. 

If this were a sudden sickness, it was like nothing you'd felt before. You tried your hardest to keep composure, telling yourself this was all in your head, there's no way you were genuinely so suddenly weak out of nowhere, but your body wouldn't listen. Once again, you found yourself fidgeting in your seat, unable to find a comfortable position. So distracted by the warmth spreading from deep in your gut through the rest of your body you almost didn't notice how heavy your head felt or the dryness in your mouth. Placing both elbows on the table, you clasped your hands together, resting your head on top of your fingers to keep yourself from losing balance. 

Fortunately, Engie didn't seem to mind, or maybe didn't even notice, how quiet you were as he cleaned up the kitchen, humming softly to himself along with the radio. You heard his footsteps close behind. 

"I'll get this out of your way."

You cleared your throat again, nodding a silent "thank you" as he took the saucer away. While you knew there was something a little off about the taste of the cake, you couldn't put your finger on what.

Forcing yourself to take another steady breath, you scooted back in your chair a little bit to press your back harder against the back of the chair, rolling out your neck slightly as you started panting. Much to your dismay, however, this did nothing to extinguish the odd warm sensation in your gut, which felt like it was spreading so quickly to spite you. Thankfully, due to the room's low light, there was no way Engie could see the way your face had begun to heat up. You didn't know if you were blushing because of the new found warm feeling between your legs, the strain of trying to appear emotionless and unbothered, or the embarrassment of being caught in such a situation in the first place, or likely an unbearable combination of the three. 

You couldn't stop fidgeting, unclasping your hands to grip the chair's armrests as you backed up a little harder into your seat. Under the table, your legs, already crossed, began to squeeze a little tighter together, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to suppress a sound of frustration as you felt the skin of your breasts and nipples tingle a little, becoming more sensitive on account of whatever the hell it was going on inside your body."No, no, not the body- just in your head. It's all in your head; just take a few deep breaths, hug him goodbye, and you'll be out in no time. you've got this." You could feel your hands white-knuckling your chair's armrests as your head dipped forwards, eyes shutting as you tried to maintain composure. 

By now, your breathing had become rapid, and while you knew it was best to keep your head back to let in as much oxygen as you could, you no longer had that kind of inner strength. The best you could do now was pant as quietly as possible as that awful warmth intensified deep inside. You were scared, wondering what the hell had gotten into you, but to a lesser extent didn't care and wanted nothing but to grind your legs together even harder or slip a hand between your legs. To do something- anything, to satisfy the awful neediness between your legs. There was no denying it now; you were wet for sure.

This was agony. Your jeans felt a size too tight, the cotton denim like sandpaper against your legs, chafing your poor sensitive skin, to say nothing of the inseam of your jeans you were painfully aware of against your clit. Swallowing hard, had no idea you'd been salivating so notably. While the intensity of your arousal began to plateau, focusing on anything else like this was impossible. 

Before now, you tried to keep your eyes open, spotting against random objects you could see in the room to try and keep yourself grounded, but by now, your eyes were fluttering and shut against your will, and the room seemed to spin when you tried to focus on anything. The feeling of Engie's hand suddenly touching your shoulder, his fingers barely making contact, caused you to jolt fully upright in alarm. 

You had no idea how he got back to you so fast, nor how long he'd been standing over you like that, but you were rendered functionally speechless in surprise, looking up with him wide-eyed, your neck still bent forward slightly, unable to support the full weight of your head, forcing you to turn your face to make eye contact, feeling pathetic as he looked down at you from this position.

"Hey, did ya hear me? Are you feeling alright? You're looking a little, uh… warm." It was hard not to cringe hearing him speak like that. Engie could sense you were extremely uncomfortable, but you silently prayed he just thought you were feeling ill. Trying desperately to convince yourself he couldn't detect your sudden unexplainable arousal. He knew something was happening with you, and it was humiliating to hear him trying to be so polite about it. 

You managed to lean away from his touch; you tried to force yourself to straighten back up in your chair and were about to answer when a spontaneous throb of arousal caused you to tense up and shrink into yourself. Engie had to grab both your shoulders to keep you steady and prevent your head from crashing forward into the table. Despite this, you tried to wriggle away again but couldn't manage to shake his hold on you. 

You can hear him saying your name, his voice heavy with worry, only making you feel sicker. But your head felt too fuzzy to speak, no matter how hard you try to respond. Your mouth won't work, and you were forced to stay held in place until you manage to center yourself well enough to answer. Taking a shaky breath, you speak in a rasp,

"I'll be fine; I just need rest." You hardly sounded like yourself, so trembling and hoarse.

"Honey, c'mon now, you can tell me what's wrong." He tried to squeeze your shoulders a little to relax you, but you only whined slightly at the feeling of his strong fingers, feeling so supportive and stable against your limp, overheated body. You knew if his hands were enough to make your head spin like this, you needed to get out as fast as possible.

"Engie- I'm going home now." Even though your words were slurred, you managed to speak clearly enough to express that much, still fidgeting in your seat to try and break free from his hold on your shoulders. Your eyelids felt so heavy, your face so warm, all you wanted to do was change into your pajamas and get a little sleep. Wanting more than anything to get back in your own bed and get rid of the awful burning inside your body. But thinking like that was dangerous, and you didn't dare let your mind wander while you were already feeling so turned on.

"You can rest upstairs in my room, c'mon lemme help you up."

"No!" Your eyes shot open as you tried to lurch out of his grip like a cornered wild animal; you were already scared, and thinking about what would happen if he brought you up to his room only made things worse. 

"Don't take me up there! Wanna go home- please, please, not upstairs- I don't want to!" It was humiliating to hear yourself begging like a child being sent to bed early, but you couldn't stop. You tried to use your grip on the armrests to pull yourself away from Engie, but he was too strong, and all you would do was tire yourself out fighting like this. You couldn't tell if you were actually crying or if you just felt like you were. Trying to fight against the wicked desire quickly sapped all your inner strength; it hurt to try and keep up like this; you just wanted it all to be over.

"Hey, easy now, I've gotcha. I'm not gonna hurt ya-" Engie spoke to you like he was trying to calm a spooked mare. He let go of one of your shoulders to turn the chair you were sitting in away from the table so you were facing him before returning the hand to your shoulder. You were too embarrassed to look him in the eye, keeping your line of sight straight ahead on the wall behind him. Feel sick listening to him patronizing you like you were his little pet, not another grown adult, much less his own comrade.

"Then let go!" You meant to sound immature, but the meat you could manage was another childish pout. 

"I ain't lettin' go. You're not looking too good there, honey; if I let ya go, you're gonna hurt yourself. I ain't about to let that happen." Despite having to physically wrangle you like this, Engie sounded as calm as ever. You whined as your muscles went limp, as you finally gave in and let him hold you upright.

"Engie, I don't wanna- Please, just take me home…." Surely he could feel how you continued to tremble under his hold, maybe even picking up on how your skin was practically hot to the touch, but you didn't care. 

"Listen, I know you don't feel well, and you're lookin' even worse. My room is right upstairs; I want you to sleep in my bed until you're feeling better." Despite his syrupy-sweet voice, you still felt too disturbed to let your guard down.

"Don't make me go to your bed…" To your surprise, you could hear Engie laughing gently about this before feeling him help you up. You wrapped your arms around his forearms to help brace your weight a little while you struggled to find your footing before wrapping one of your arms around his neck, leaning entirely against him to support yourself. Your face was now painfully close to his, all while he merely regarded you with his easygoing smile.

"Aw honey, I wasn't gonna make us share the bed!" He winked before continuing, "Temptin' offer though it may be." Feeling your body pressed close against him like this was doing nothing to help your situation, you grit your teeth, forcing your face to turn from his to the stairs across the room. Without another word, he helped you make your way to the stairs.

A part of you wondered if he was going so slowly up the stairs to prolong your misery as long as he could; at least, that's what it felt like to you. You used one arm to grab his arm around your shoulders while the other white-knuckled the handrail; not once did his arms budge from either around your waist or from your shoulders, the side of his body crushingly tight up against yours. While the feeling of helplessness and discombobulation was wretched, you hated yourself for clinging so tightly against Engie, letting him lead you upstairs to his bedroom, despite your trepidation. 

When the two of you finally made it to the top of the staircase, you were about to step foot on the second floor when you felt Engie mumble something into your ear as you bit down on your lower lip to keep from moaning at the feeling of his lips grazing against your ear, breath fanning over the side of your face, and tickling your neck without warning. 

"Almost there now, honey. You're doing so good, just a little longer." You nodded, feeling as though your knees were about to give out at any second. 

By the time you reached the doorway of Engie's bedroom, you didn't wait for him to get the door first. You turned the knob yourself and pushed open the door, too blinded by the idea of finally getting to lay down to worry about waiting to be invited in first. Engie helped push the door open wider as the two of you staggered inside. You refused to stop moving until you were in bed, and with almost drunken, unsteady steps, you finally found your respite, crashing into the soft flannel sheets the moment your shin connected with the edge of the bed. 

Finally lying down, you lay, sprawled out on your back for a moment, giving yourself time to catch your breath. At last, you were lying down and in bed; nothing in the world mattered right now except for the cozy cotton sheets that provided you with a little nook to curl up inside of.

For just a moment, you felt better, the burning wasn't gone, but at least now it was a bit less uncomfortable. 

"Usually, I'd make the bed before the company shows up, but you look pretty cozy down there. Are you feeling any better, darlin'?" You didn't answer; rolling onto your side, away from the side of the bed where he stood, you buried your head in the pillows, twisting the sheets and blankets in your hands, pulling them closer. Not exactly to cover yourself with, but just to have something soft and comfortable to grip onto, something much better than the hardwood of your chair's armrest. But it was more than that. Something about being in his bed like this felt so perfect like you were exactly where you needed to be in the universe. You were hyper-aware of Engie's scent trapped in the bedding, shamelessly nestling your face directly into it, wanting to feel it all over you. No matter how embarrassing it was to be watched in a state like this for a moment, you allowed yourself to indulge. Writhing into the blankets, using them to wick the sweat from your forehead and neck, nestling your head into the nook where the pillows met the bed. 

You thought you could hear him chuckling from above, but you weren't sure, but the idea of him getting so much enjoyment watching you nestling into his bed made you self-conscious, making you whine in irritation, the sound almost entirely drowned out by the pillow. Still, the shame wasn't enough to keep you from wrapping both legs around the top blanket of the bed, spooning the fabric, feeling blissful but frustratingly unsatisfying on account of your jeans keeping the blankets from rubbing up against your bare skin. Despite the bed's softness, you somehow couldn't manage to get comfortable and couldn't stop from kicking and thrashing like a fish out of water. The smell of Engie flooding your senses was the only thing going through your mind, but it still didn't feel like enough. You could feel the bed dipping as Engie sat on the side of the bed, his hand against your shoulder, making you shiver and your nails dig into the blankets.

"Can't get comfy down there? You need me to grab you something to drink?" With a snicker, he continued, "Need daddy to read you a bedtime story?"

You frowned, looking up at him over your shoulder, "Don't talk to me like that."

"Aw c'mon, you know I'm only-" He tried to laugh it off, but for some reason, you found yourself more agitated than usual at his ribbing. 

"You know what I mean!"

"Pardon?" He lifted his hand from your shoulder as you rolled from your belly to your side to look at him. Something about the awful heat coursing through you made you more brazen than usual, and you could not stop yourself from acting confrontational.

"I hate when you act like that- When you look at me like you know better than me! You're not responsible for me. I don't need you to take care of me!" His brow creased as he looked at you, hurt, confused, and completely taken aback by your sudden attitude. Your breathing was ragged, and it was hard to keep your voice from rising. You didn't know where this anger was coming from, but it felt as though you were finally telling him how much you hated when he babied you. The suddenness and intensity confused you, but the catharsis was there all the same. Telling him how you really felt. For so long, you'd been forced to be professional and mild-mannered around your comrade while he would condescend and coddle you; to finally bear your emotions like this felt damn good.

Engie tried his best to force a small smile to mask the hurt you could still see in his eyes, "I don't do this because you're weak; I never said you were weak-"

You laughed bitterly, "Right, it's because you're just such a nice guy; how could I forget?"

Engie spoke slowly, "I only do this because I care about you; I only want what's best. You know that."

"You don't love me. You love how being needed makes you feel!" By now, you were certain you were crying and weren't even really talking to Engie; now, you were talking to him. In your heart, you weren't really mad at him, but you hated how weak you felt when he prioritized you over the rest of the team. You slackened a little, pulling the blanket up to bury your head in it, sobbing. After a moment, you felt his hand putting the top of your head.

"Of course I love you-" 

"No, you don't! You just want to protect the weak, isn't that right? That must be why you're always focused on me, right? I'm nothing but the weakest of the team to you! I'm nothing but a charity case; all you care about is making yourself feel better." You were helpless to stop all the awful insecurities you tried so hard to hide from the rest of the world from surfacing now. Engie huffed a little, moving his hand from your hair to your chin, forcing you to turn and look at him.

"So I'm the selfish one, is that it? I spend all this time with you, cook for you, let you sleep in my own bed, and that makes me the selfish one?" You had to bite back a moan at the feeling of his fingers gripping your face so tightly.

"You slipped me something, didn't you?" It was a surprise to hear your voice so level after screaming and crying. Engie looked more surprised than offended by your words but didn't say anything to his defense.

"I bet you did this, didn't you! Fucking hell, you'd do anything to be the hero- to just come to everyone's rescue. You don't care about me; I bet you don't even like any of the rest of us!"

His eyes narrowed. "Don't say that."

"That's the only reason I'm here, isn't it? You wanted to get me all alone, slip me God knows what so you could take me here and wait till it knocked out to start touching yourself over my unconscious body. You've been planning this, haven't you!" Despite your harsh words, Engie didn't look offended. Nothing worked, no matter how you tried to anger or convince him to kick you out. He merely sighed, face softening as his fingers gently caressed the side of your face.

"Let it out, sweetheart; you've had a long day. Just get it out of your system; you'll be alright." You didn't say anything in return, and for a moment, you wondered, "Would it really be so bad to let him have his way?" Your eyes drift shut as you feel Engie's fingers brush away your tears, smoothing back your hair. No matter how you tried to deny it, letting, him treat you like his little girl felt good. Why had you fought him back for so long? Now that you weren't fighting back, his touch no longer felt smothering but soothing. And you felt in that moment that he was the only thing in the world that could satisfy your desire.

"I'm gonna get you a change of clothes, just lay back." The bed creaked a little as he lifted himself from the mattress.

You spoke in a broken, pitifully small voice, "I shouldn't have said that."

"I know you didn't mean it." He was in the same room but sounded so far away you wanted him back in bed.

"It was still wrong to say.." As he returned to his perch by your side, you twisted in bed, laying on your side.

He smiled, "I forgive you." You wanted to say you didn't deserve it, but at the moment, you couldn't find the words; all you could manage to do was stare at him with puppy eyes.

"Do you want me to help you out of your clothes?"

At first, you were about to question why he was acting so brazen, but then you realized at some point during your fight you'd started to wriggle in bed nervously, mindlessly pawing at your bottoms, trying to pull them off while your fingers were too numb and awkward to work the buttons or the zipper. Time felt like it slowed down for a moment; the two of your eyes locked as you understood the weight of his question. You nodded. 

"I need to hear you say it." Engie's soft voice is as assuring and gentle as ever, yet unmistakably firm. While you were putting up a fight for a while there, you both knew who was really in charge here. Forcing yourself to keep eye contact, you managed a "yes, I would." Engie's sweet smile betrayed his dirty mind. 

"Roll back over onto your stomach." You didn't understand why he wanted this, but you immediately complied. You bit down on a pillow to muffle the sounds you made when you felt Engie's fingers find your jean's button, undoing it and pulling the zipper all the way down just as easily, while you couldn't help but whine and twitch at the feeling of his fingers brushing against your bare underbelly, and the sensation of his fingers over your clothed pubic mound for just a second as he undid the zipper. You took a deep breath after the zipper was undone, feeling the most relief you'd felt all night. He gave you a moment to breathe deeply before his hands made their way to the waistband of your jeans and, with a few tugs, pulled them past your hips as you kicked your legs to try and help him remove the awful denim from your body. Your thighs spread wider, blessedly now unrestricted against Engie's blankets while he looked down at the beautiful sight. You couldn't help but sigh audibly into the pillow; at long last, you were free.

"Shirt too?" You mumbled, but Engie understood what you wanted, grabbing the bottom hem of your top as he pushed it up and over your head with your bra while you slid your arms through the sleeves. Leaving you stripped down to nothing but your underwear. The feeling of his sheets, his smell now directly below your skin, felt heavenly, your tits perking up a little, still tingling from earlier as you rubbed yourself over the bed, breathing heavily in through your nose and out through your mouth. While Engie was more than excited to finally get a chance to get his hands on you, he wasn't about to rush you here.

You were entirely right to call him out for planning this, and despite a few snags along the way, the evening was shaping up exactly how he hoped it would. And while he expected your hesitation and your near-certain anger when you realized he was responsible for your current situation, Engie had every confidence that in just a bit of time, you would be thanking him for all this. All he had to do was wait, and for you, he'd wait forever if he must.

He trailed his feeling hand down the curve of your ass as you felt the rubber glove brushing against the swell of your hip. His fingers playfully drummed along the flesh of your ass while you shivered and bit down a little harder on the pillow in your mouth.

"I forgive you, and I love you- but you outta know how to watch that mouth of yours." 

" 'M sorry, it won't happen again." You babbled, half talking to him, half speaking into the pillow. You weren't strong enough to look him in the eye, but you were just horny enough to tell him whatever he needed to hear.

"Oh, I'm sure it won't. But someone ought to teach you a lesson." You felt his ungloved fingers squeezing against the flesh of your ass, assuring you of exactly where his attention was. Knowing you had his full attention elicited another stir of excitement inside you.

"Mhm?" He spoke softly, but you could pick up on the dark edge of his words even in such an inebriated state.

"Maybe this is my fault. I've been spoiling you all this time, and I haven't even laid a hand on you." Using his gloved hand, he gave a little testing pat against your rear, not hard at all, but enough to make a sharp smacking sound fill the room. You sighed at the feeling; he was right; he was being too soft, and you needed more. Needed his attention now more than ever before.

You were about to say something, anything to urge him on, but he literally beat you to it, his glove slapping against your ass again, a little bit harder this time, forcing you to bite down onto his pillow to muffle your little shriek of surprise. The residual soreness didn't have time to set in fully before you felt another blow, followed by another and another and another. Not harder or softer, he set a steady rhythm for the two of you. You could feel the blood rushing to the sore area and couldn't imagine how red you must've looked.

It felt good to be used like this. To feel held accountable for taking advantage of "the nice guy" for so long. Now he wasn't going easy on you, and it was exactly what you needed. By accident, his hand struck a little closer to your cunt than he intended; maybe he didn't aim right, or perhaps you accidentally spread your legs too wide. You didn't know. In response to this feeling, you spread your legs even wider.

"Maybe I ought to bring you off the battlefield and back home with me. Set ya to work on the old Conagher farm. I know it'll do ya real good to get outta the city, give ya a 'lil perspective. You'd fit right in; I can see it now." He was mostly rambling to himself than actually speaking to you, but you followed along all the same. In any other situation, you'd never let him get away with implying he could so easily take you home and "tame you," but given how horny you already felt, you were ready to tell him everything he wanted to hear if it meant you would finally get some satisfaction.

"I'll go anywhere with you! Please, Engie, please keep going; I fucking need it! I-I need you so bad, Daddy!" You peeked your head over your shoulder and felt your heartthrob at the sight of his face softened with love and eyes twinkling like little stars. Good Lord, would you give anything to cum on that beautiful face of his. You weren't aware of the wet spot of drool he could see from where you were biting down on the pillow and the mess of spit around your lips. 

He used his thick fingers to brush against the soaked fabric covering your sex; the feeling of at last getting a bit of friction between your legs made your head roll forward, crushing your face into the pillow, mindlessly rocking your hips against his fingers.

"You're gonna be good for me from now on? No more attitude?" He was moving too slow, intentionally shying his fingers away whenever you tried to get closer, mocking your neediness. While you were reduced to a wet, mindless mess sobbing incoherently, "Yes, I will! I promise I'll be good; I promise I'll be good! Please, Daddy, please, Daddy- I need it so bad, please!"

His fingers paused, directly over exactly where you needed them, his glove gripping the curve of your hip, keeping you from grinding against him, forcing you to remain painfully in place, the strain of staying in this position its own hell on Earth. "You promise you'll behave?"

Without missing a beat, you kept, "I promise!" 

You can hear his proud smile without looking back at his face. "All right, darlin', if you promise." He sounded just like a proud father; no wonder he stepped into the role so well. 

He continued to grope at your ass with his gloved hand, pushing your underwear to the side as he finally slipped his fingers inside. By now, you were practically too weak to keep grinding against him, but fortunately, you wouldn't last much longer. You felt like you were on edge for hours, and feeling Engie's fingers working their magic inside your body was that last little push you needed to send you over the edge. His thumb worked in sync with his fingers, a thick coating of your slick messily seeping from inside, helping him to go even faster. 

You wished you didn't have to be on your stomach, Engie sitting off to the side, so far away. You wanted to wrap your arms around him, feel his naked flesh against your body, but inhaling his smell and grinding against his sheets would have to do for now. You spread your thighs wider as you felt yourself clenching against his fingers, your climax so close it hurt. Back arching as you mindlessly pushed yourself even harder against his fingers, the intensity building until you finally came. Seeing all white as relief washed over your entire body, the tension easing up as pleasant little after-shocks began to set in. The awful burning desire inside satisfied as you went limp, settling heavily into his bed with a heavy sigh. 

By now, the sheets were dampened by your sweat, though you were too tired to care much, feeling no real discomfort while laying in a little puddle of your own sweat. While Engie's handiwork had mercifully taken care of the burning inside, you could tell your head wasn't quite clear yet. The loopy, needy feeling now morphed into comfortable drowsiness, making your afterglow feel all the sweeter. You winced a little while Engie withdrew his fingers and the vague sensation of your wetness sloppily trailing his hand. You could hear him wiping the slick off onto the bedsheets before petting the top of your head gently.

"Feelin' better now?" Your tongue felt too heavy in your mouth to formulate any words, but you nodded, making a quiet sound of affirmation while your head remained buried in the pillows. 

"And what do we say when someone does something nice for us?" He sounded easygoing, but you knew he wanted a real answer out of you. Turning your head to rest a cheek on the pillow, you sleepily half-opened one eye to try and focus on him.

"Thank you, Daddy." It was a dull mumble of an answer, but it appeased him well enough. He ruffled your hair before you could hear the sound of Engie undressing, letting his button-up shirt and stiff work pants join your jeans on the floor. By the time he nestled up in bed with you, wrapping your limp body up with his strong arms, you were already more than half-asleep. Maybe the excessive fatigue was a side-effect of whatever slipped earlier. For a moment, you wondered if you would wake up with a hangover or not, but the thought left your head almost as quickly as it came. Even without the mystery drug in your system, it was certainly possible that your brain was better off trying to shut down and try not to think too hard about what just happened and even less about what the morning might bring.

Within your final moments of coherency, you could feel your body pulled against Engie's bare chest until you were close enough to rest your cheek against his flesh. He tucked your head under his chin as he muttered to himself.

"I wasn't lying' when I said I love you, honey. I love you more than anything else; I'd never lie about that." 

[cuubism]

[[[I fanficced your fanfic, I hope you don't mind 😅 was craving soft/sad cryptid Dream. Feel free to post, delete, modify, ignore, whatever, as you will, it's your universe! And thank you for creating such a compelling one💜]]]

It’s an unremarkable day, meandering into an unremarkable night, when there’s a stiff, solitary knock at the coffee shop door. This, in and of itself, is still unremarkable. That’s how Dream knocks, and Dream comes by almost as many days as he doesn’t; but when Hob goes to let him in, he finds his friend looking— well. Remarkable, in a different way than usual.

Dream looks, in a word, frazzled. In fact, it takes his eyes full, near-comical seconds to focus, before he peers around the empty shop interior. “You are closed?”

“To the public,” Hob assures him, and just in case that isn’t a clear enough answer, he gets a hand on Dream’s elbow and steers him inside and to a clean table. “What can I make you?”

“Nothing,” Dream huffs. “Thank you. There is— a book I must read. I only sought somewhere safe to do so.”

“Okay, well.” Hob smiles. “I’ve got some cleaning up to do down here that should take a while. And if I finish before you do, I’ll come join you. Or we can go up to my flat.”

“Thank you,” Dream repeats. His breathing has calmed, but his eyes have not. He’ll definitely need some cheering up, or calming down— or both— before too long. But for now Hob’s got a shop that needs tidying. And Dream, apparently, has a book that needs reading.

Hob leaves him to it. About half the tables still need wiping-down, not to mention the counters; the syrups need refilling, and tomorrow’s specials menu needs writing, and—

That’s as far as he gets before deciding that he deserves a break and a kiss, thanks. Assuming Dream’s up for that—

—which, it seems, he isn’t.

Sat quietly at the table where Hob left him, Dream is buried in his book’s yellowed pages; tears are streaming silently, though plentifully, down his cheeks.

“Hey.”

Dream’s voice is a croak. “Hob Gadling.”

“Good book?”

It’s a bit of a tease, but Hob’s got a reason for it: if Dream wants the chance to shrug this off, explain that he’s just lost himself in a tearjerker, he deserves that chance. But even as he offers it up, Hob knows it won’t be taken. Dream has not been moved to tender tears by a lovely story; he is properly crying, properly upset.

Hob gentles his voice, squeezes lightly at Dream’s shoulder. “Let me make you some tea.”

“Thank you,” Dream whispers, after a tired pause. His eyes finally move from the text before him; but they sink to the floor, instead of raising to meet Hob’s gaze.

Hob gives another shoulder squeeze, then jogs back to the counter.

Three minutes later he sets before Dream a mug of hot tea and a stack of paper napkins, one of which his friend seizes to wipe his now-dribbling nose. He’s reading again. Hob lets him be.

Hob’s calmer than he might have expected, as the evening progresses. His stomach, sunk at the first sight of Dream’s tears, hasn’t made it back to its proper place yet; and still his mind is steady. Level. Dream needed a safe place; and he came here.

He trusts Hob so much that Hob is starting to trust himself.

When the last of the chores have been completed, Hob settles in the chair opposite Dream. “Finished cleaning,” he tells him, and offers a smile.

“I will leave you.”

“Don’t be daft,” Hob replies, covering Dream’s free hand with his own. “I only wanted to ask if you’d rather stay down here, or go up to the flat? Got stronger stuff than tea up there. And proper tissues, and such.”

(The napkins, which had seemed a good idea at the time, have left the edges of his nostrils red and sore. Combined with his now-puffy eyes, Dream looks a great deal less ethereal than usual— though no less beautiful.)

“Come on,” Hob continues, encircling Dream’s hand now.

“You needn’t worry—”

“You need,” Hob replies, “a drink, and tissues, and maybe a nice blanket.”

Dream blinks. A fresh tear slips free; and he stands.

In his flat, Hob sets Dream up on the sofa, with a blanket across his lap and a glass of whiskey and box of tissues close at hand. Dream reads, and cries, entirely without sound. He’s such a quiet companion, in fact, that Hob must drift off for a while; because when he wakes, Dream has set the book aside, and poured himself a glass of wine from a bottle Hob’s sure wasn’t in his flat.

His eyes are dry now, albeit raw. When he senses Hob stirring, he looks up with a painful expression that's maybe supposed to be a smile.

“Finished your book?” Hob prompts.

“For now.”

“Would you like to talk about it?”

“No. Thank you. Wine?”

“Sure,” Hob replies, taking the opportunity to come and sit at Dream’s side. Their arms brush, and Dream lets go a shuddering breath.

“I’m tired, Hob.”

“Yeah? Rest a bit. And you know you’re welcome to spend the night.”

“Only welcome?”

“Okay. You know I’d lose my mind if you spent the night. Although truth be told I wonder if you couldn’t use a good cuddle more than anything right now.”

Hob’s not sure if that was the wrong thing to say— or maybe the perfect thing to say— but in that instant fresh tears gather in Dream’s eyes.

“Come here,” Hob murmurs, setting his wine on the coffee table and then plucking Dream’s from his hand and doing the same. “Come here. Let me hold you.”

Contrary to his usual reserve, Dream comes easily, wilting into Hob’s arms the moment they are opened to him. In small, uncertain motions, he snuggles close to cry.

It takes a minute for him to settle. At first he tosses about, leaving wet patches in four or five spots on Hob’s shirt; but eventually he makes himself comfortable. Sets about the business of properly weeping— no longer quite silently— and Hob rubs his back as he sniffles and sighs.

“You’re kinder to me than I deserve,” Dream murmurs, after a while of this. Hob spends another moment formulating his reply.

“Whether or not that’s true from your perspective,” Hob replies, eventually, “it isn’t true from mine. I think you deserve a lot of kindness.”

“I really don’t.” Low as it is, Dream’s voice still cracks. “But I thank you for saying so.”

When his tears seem to have run their course (for the second time), Dream lifts his head and regards Hob fondly. His eyes look all the bluer against the red around their edges. He captures Hob’s lips in a soft kiss, mouth barely open; he tastes like salt and chardonnay.

“Thank you,” Dream whispers, when they part.

“I’m just glad you came over, okay?”

He nods.

“Can I get you anything?” Hob asks, then quickly answers his own question. “I’m going to get you a washcloth. Your eyes look like they hurt.”

Dream does not agree aloud; but when Hob returns and dabs the dampened cloth against his eyes, he groans softly. “That feels good.”

“Yeah? Good. Crying helps. But, fuck, it takes it out of you, dunnit?”

“It— does.”

“Please stay the night,” Hob whispers, and lowers his hand so Dream can open his eyes. “My bed’s lovely. And you can borrow some pyjamas. It just kills me to think of you going and being alone right now.”

“I. Have no desire, to be alone tonight, either.”

“Good,” Hob says again, and presses another kiss to Dream’s lips. “We can do whatever you like. If that’s just cuddling up, hey, I’m all for it.”

The inflammation is beginning to fade, just a touch; but the exhaustion in those blue eyes is only growing. “Can we,” Dream asks, “just go to bed now. And decide in a little while?”

“Of course,” Hob cooes; but before he lets Dream stand he cannot help himself from reaching out and touching his face one more time. He forgoes the washcloth. Smooths the pad of one thumb along Dream’s salt-clumpy lower lashes; and Dream, though tiredly, smiles.

FANFIC OF FANFIC!! :D how delightful! and how flattering!

I love fic-of-fic, inspirations and interconnected fics, it reminds me of something Michael Sheen said once on twitter (I saved it) about fanfic being an infinitely branching tree of stories dreaming itself.

Cryptic book lore... cuddles... the cafe is open only to Dream... perfect 🥰 thank you for sharing it! <3

[loveisnotfinite]

I have been reading some comments around and just thought I would give you my two cents about a couple of things. Just for the sake of sharing and infusing some calming positivity above the fandom I hope.

I come from a long viewer experience; deeply invested viewer experience. I love tv shows, I love falling in love with them; I am kinda selective, I do not waste much time on those that do not resonate for me, but I can watch crime stories, horror ones, love stories, spies ones, as long as they have something that intrigues me. But when there’s a good love story, I am like Penelope. I can’t resist. I love to watch the relationships unfolding, I love the ups and downs, the rollercoaster of emotions. Blending comedy with drama, as well. And from time to time I love the feeling to find just my perfect cup of tea. That one show feeding my soul in that particular moment of my life. Among my favs, just to give a picture: This is Us, Jane the Virgin, The Good Place, The Good Wife, Modern Family, House, and many others.

I come from a long experience then. And getting invested, shipping a couple with the highest level of expectations can be tricky. Especially if you let PR strategy get to you.

On one level, you expect so much from the show you’re watching, you start making up fantasies of your own, picturing stuff in your head and that of course never materializes. It would be impossible. And yet some creative decisions serve a higher purpose. It’s a work of art. Some people would always find something they do not like so much, others will go along. If you don’t have expectations and are less invested, you probably end up enjoying it more, in a sense. But there’s a lot of work behind it all, so many professionals giving their hearts and souls to the project, putting their whole selves in it, to give us the best story, told in the best way they could conceive it. Doing their absolute best. And it feels disrespectful to me, destroying their efforts, just because a few things weren’t the dream come true of my expectations.

On the other hand, and this goes beyond what should be said or discussed, PR strategy is just what it is. And it adds some fun of course but actors have their lives. Although they generously share them with us, play with us, humor the fandom. We don’t have any idea how difficult that must be at times. At yet they do it with a smile of their faces, keeping up the facade even if they might feel unease (which is understandable even if they can play along and laugh about it cause they are professionals and actors to the core). That being said, despite someone might like to fantasize, whatever personal choices or people they love or date, that doesn’t diminish the bonds they create, the chemistry, the affection or the special connection we observe and love so much about them. All of these have fueled their performance, nurture it. And I believe it’s a blessing. Just as much Kanthony was so good because of the great friendship b/w John and Simone. Paraphrasing Benedict, there might be enough love for everyone. To have a special someone and yet loving to bits one of your best friends, who might even be some sort of soulmate or just a what if that nevertheless will never come true. Or maybe not. Everyone is the main character of their own life. Only they can tell. But as a friendly advice, from an older me to my younger self, and to the ones among you feeling off right now, I would say, do learn to separate fiction from reality. Characters from people. Their lives go on just the same. Yours might feel deprived of something that is just in your heads and was never truly yours. You just borrowed someone else’s alleged emotions, picking up glances and smiles, and cute stuff alright but… focus on your life. And take advantage of fiction when it can let you fly high, elsewhere, far way, and get you come back home with a different feeling inside you. Healing or filling whatever hole you felt that needed care and mending.

I want to let it sink in. And go back rewatching season 3 with some more detachment. I gave it 9 out 10 really. I feel so blessed by this tale of love and so grateful for all the fun of the press tour.

Let’s keep having fun.

[youreallyshouldtalkmore]

Belayed Invitation_P1

A.N: This is a direct sequel to my Crimson Flowers: Glorious Masquerade Special. Although you don't necessarily need to read that to understand this but it helps.

Twisted Wonderland Masterlist  

—————————————————-

As the first years decided to adjourn their study session, Mia pulled out her bag and was rummaging through it as she cried, “Sebek! Sebek! Sebek! Before you leave….” 

“What is it, human? I must make haste to my lord’s side.” Sebek asked, raising an eyebrow. 

She didn’t look up from her bag, “Yes, I know, but this involves your lord. Ah, here, it is. I put it up so good, I couldn’t find it my own self.” 

Sebek gazed at her curiously, as did the rest. When he saw the small green envelope she had flourished to him, he cried, “Wait!! You finally did it?”

She grinned, “Yep! I told you! Give me some time and I’ll get it handled. This is an invitation for Malleus.” 

Epel spoke, “Ah, is this when you promised to throw him a tea party, so you could personally invite him?” 

“When was this?” Ace asked confused. 

Deuce explained, “During our social trip to Noble Bell College. Remember when we told you that Malleus flipped out? Mia said she’s send him an invitation after we got back.” 

“Oh, is this when she lectured Malleus?!” Ace hooted. He always loved hearing about that part. Jack and Ace had just looked at her when they were first told the story. Neither could believe that she had no fear to lecture Malleus of all people. 

She had merely sniffed unapologetic at the time, “Well, he made it my problem. He got angry over something so profoundly stupid, and I just said what I said.”  

Mia grinned, waving the green envelope, “Indeed. All systems a go! Sebek, I entrust this to you to get to your lord. Make sure he follows the instructions inside.” 

Sebek took it carefully, “Worry not, Mia! I shall deliver it to him, posthaste! Even though the Noble Bell College social ended up still going, I know my lord shall be ecstatic to receive another invitation. So rarely does he get one!  Honestly, if you had it this entire time, you should have given it to me earlier!” 

Jack rolled his eyes, “If she did that, you would have darted off with nothing but Malleus on your brain. We needed to study, you know.” 

Sebek frowned once but grinned, “Regardless, I shall be taking my leave of you! This shall be another thing to award you for, Mia! As a human, you showed stellar sense during that trip!” 

Mia blinked, “I did….” 

“Yes, you we in awe of Malleus beauty, right?” 

Ace gave a sly grin, “Was this when you said he was walking dream?” 

Mia slapped her face in her hands, “Stop bringing that up!” 

“There is no shame to be had!” Sebek eyes glittered as he pressed on, “It only showed that you had clear vision. Yes, I cannot believe I forgot! When I have delivered this to Malleus-sama’s keeping, I shall think deeply upon your reward.” 

“I guess you never mentioning that event again as a reward wouldn’t be on the table, would it?” 

“That’s no reward! Alright, I don’t have time to debate this right now! Be patient as I deliver this! I will see you all later!” Sebek stated before turning on his heel and marching away with purpose. 

“.....” 

“.......So, what does a walking dream look like?” Ace asked. 

Jack sighed when Mia took her backpack and swung at Ace, who dogged with a laugh. Epel and Deuce exchanged smiles but knew better than to get involve. 

—

At Diasomnia Dorm, Malleus blinked at the green envelope that Sebek had presented him with, “For me?” 

“Yes, my lord! I wasted no time bringing this to you. It’s from Mia.” Sebek smiled. 

“Ahh, good job, Sebek. Malleus, stop standing on ceremony. Take it and open it! You are keeping us on pins and needles.” Lilia spoke. 

Silver smiled, “So she finally got around to it.” 

Malleus gingerly took the invitation, his green eyes missing no detail. He flipped it over to see his full name in a really, pretty script. Without tearing the envelope, he opened it and pulled out a card that was also a shade of green with a gold frame around it. On the front side read: You are cordial invited…. 

Then he flipped it open, catching the few small cards that slid out. He wasn’t sure what to start with first, but ended up reading the rest of the inside that said: ….to a tea party on Monday at 5:30pm in the garden of Ramshackle Dorm. Dress: Ceremonial Robes 

Only then, did he address the smaller two smaller cards. They were both the same card that was a matching set to the larger card but said: VIP 

He furrowed his eyebrow. He wasn’t sure what to do with it, so he continued to the other card. He realized it was an ordinary piece of paper that held instructions that read: 

If you accept my invitation, return one of the VIP cards back to me after writing ‘I accept’ on the back. Keep the other VIP card. You will use that to get into the tea party. P.S: Don’t have Sebek out here knocking on my door all hours to return it to me, if you choose to accept. 

“Oh my, she clearly put quite a bit of thought into this!” Silver asked impressed, “You even get to wear your ceremonial robes to this! You rarely get a chance to wear it!”  

“And I resent that!” Sebek fumed, “I would not be knocking on her door, at all hours. I only wish to convey my lord’s wishes as soon as possible!”  

“Oh, pipe down! This invite is quite pretty! And she made this especially for you, Malleus.” Lilia grinned. 

“Wait, she made this? From scratch, herself?” Silver asked astonished. He knew that she as an artist, but he didn’t realize the extent of her talent.   

“Fufu, she has asked my opinion on the sly about some things regarding this tea party. I couldn’t help but to pitch in if it brought our Malleus some joy.” 

“That she took time out of her day to personalize an invite is worthy of praise!” exclaimed Sebek, “Exactly as it should be. If all put in even half that much work towards Malleus-sama, the world would be a much better place.  Malleus-sama are you pleased?” 

“.....”

Both Silver and Sebek exchanged glances. They weren’t sure what expression was on Malleus’ face. To Silver’s way of thinking, he seemed rather….dazed…. 

Lilia only laughed, unbothered, “It seems Malleus is stunned beyond words.” 

Finally, after some time: 

“.........I should write ‘I accept’ on one of these VIP cards…..” 

“I shall find you a pen, Malleus-sama!!” Sebek cried, bounding away. 

Part 2

[satoshi-mochida]

Visual novel Stella of The End coming to Switch in 2024 - Gematsu

PROTOYPE will release Key-developed visual novel Stella of The End for Switch in 2024, the latest issue of Weekly Famitsu reveals.

Stella of The End first launched for PC on October 28 in Japan, followed by iOS and Android on April 21, 2023, and an English-localized PC release via Steam on September 26, 2023.

Here is an overview of the game, via its Steam page:

■ Story

The world no longer belongs to humanity. Giant machines now roam the earth, pushing mankind to the brink of extinction. Jude Gray, a wandering Courier, receives a request to deliver some very special cargo. This cargo turns out to be Philia, an android girl who is unaffected by the enigmatic Singularity Machines. Jude is left with no choice but to escort Philia to her destination, doing his best to protect her from harm and teach her how to survive in this harsh world. Together, they must traverse the hostile wilderness, avoiding threats both mechanical and human. The whole time, Philia insists she’s going to become human someday. What awaits Jude and Philia at the end of the road? Can humanity really be saved, or is it already too late…?

■ Characters

Philia

An Android Who Dreams of Being Human “If I become human… I can save everyone. I think.” An android girl discovered inside an ancient replicator capsule. Ever since she opened her eyes, she’s been fixated on finding a way to become human. Philia has a bright, innocent personality and zero real life experience. It’s up to Jude to teach her how the world works. She’s curious about everything around her and occasionally charges in without thinking about the consequences. She also has a natural affinity with AI, being able to understand them on an almost instinctual level.

Jude Gray

A Wandering Courier Just Trying to Get By “I have to protect you somehow, and shooting down threats is the only way I know how.” A man who makes his living as a traveling jack of all trades. His knowledge of technology and engineering means he gravitates toward more specialized jobs, for better or worse. Jude’s mind is always on survival first and foremost. He doesn’t allow himself to be influenced by emotions or any abstract sense of duty. An avid gun enthusiast, he often gets so wrapped up preparing his gear that he loses track of time.

Willem Grosvenor

A Nobleman Working to Revive Humanity “I have a dream. One I’ve harbored all my life.” This mysterious old man claims to be working on a project to take the world back from the Machines. He has access to highly advanced technology that has kept him alive for over 100 years. After contacting Jude via a drone delivery, Willem offers him a king’s ransom to retrieve and deliver Philia. He’s only ever seen on video calls, making his actual whereabouts a mystery.

Delilah

An Android Seeking Her Father “He’s the one who taught me everything I know.” An android rescued from a gang of bandits, who appears to be the same model as Philia. She’s been treated badly, and now has a cracked-open head, a missing leg, and a multitude of other injuries. She was separated from the man she calls her father, and is desperate to find him again.

[sircesimblr]

Manon: Pardon me?!

Stam: What kind of a suit is that?!

Klaus-Ove: Me? Mine?

Manon: Why, yes!

Orbin: Mine, probably.

Stam: Orbin! You're positively reeking of mothballs! Don't - ugh, don't even think of coming near Rachel in that thing. You'll ruin your... why! am I even saying this?

Orbin: Sorry. It's my father's wedding suit. He wore it on the happiest day of his life. I don't own a suit myself so I figured it "suits", haha, to borrow it, for a special day like this. Don't I look, like, "flashy"?

Manon and Stam: "Flashy"?

Manon: Oh, my eyes are hurting me, Mr. Larsen. I cannot look at you. Flashy? Those colours are thunder flashes to the soul. You may be artistic, little pup, but this isn't exactly a display of good taste and modesty!

Klaus-Ove: And why not?

Manon and Stam: Why not?!

Klaus-Ove: People, look at the big picture. Squint your eyes. I am just a simplified representation of this breathtaking nature all around us: the green and mustard grasses, the grey skies and waters, my seven ginger strands of hair, hahaha. I could've gone a little more with the greys, I admit. But imagine Rachel next to me. She's got her hair up. She wears a long dress, like, teal, or soft flaxen... white? Would she not be the only one, anybody would be looking at, next to me? Exactly. And nothing would make me happier. Mr. Stam "let me show some more of my chest so everyone will notice how hot I am" Hardenes!

Stam: I.. I... Oh, shut it.

Klaus-Ove: Hahaha, just teasing, man. You don't care about looks, I know, it's okay, you probably lost a button when you changed. I'll help you look for it later.

Manon: Oh, this is terrible. Absolutely terrible. My apologies, dear Rachel, this was a true misreckoning on my part. Please, please, erase their formal appearance from your mind when this is over... They were such fine, charming gentlemen before... Do - I urge you - do take them to a taylor's first, before you'll debut with either of them in society! Now, gentlemen, let's not prolong this and take our leave. A final bow, a kiss, to our esteemed lady!

And with that, Miss Rachel Murray, I feel my little adventure, my story about love, is coming to an end.

It wasn't an easy task, but I'm honoured to feel a little of what it must have been for you. My big little nibbles, presenting their solemnest of hearts to only you, dearest and loveliest you. By now they're all behaving like loosened hosiery, pardon me, but you've seen them. Their ways and wishes, words and dreams, and in between the lines, who they truly are.

Dearest Rachel, I wish you the very best of luck. Meeting my gentlemen, and the many more that seek your friendship and affection. Have fun, dear girl, on your journey. I bow to you too. And please, let me, or let my Watcher know some day, how it all turned out for you. It's not only love, it is life.

So, good-day, Watchers, Authors and Readers! Thank you so very much for spending your time with us. And now: back to our own worlds.

(behind the scenes:)

The gentlemen: Thanks, Miss de La Haye. A bow and a kiss for you too. Here. Here!

Manon: Stop it. Stop it.

The gentlemen: Well done! Good job. Rachel will be over the moon. We'll take it from here! But we'll forever and always be your big little nibbles too.

Manon: My heart. My goodness. Give me a minute to breathe, to recuperate, before our Watcher just magically poofs us back to where we came from. Please excuse me, lovelies. This is not the easiest thing to say good-bye to...

My big little nibbles. This desolate, lovely island. My heart, my heart, connecting with these gentle souls, like it does with each and every one of my children... it's, it's - how did I ever get to experience this? How do I go back to Praaven remembering this? Knowing these kind of men exist, knowing this kind of love exists, ready to be given to one special woman... Not me...

How do I live on, with all this inside of me?

What... And what... if she makes me... forget? What if my Watcher makes me forget this ever happened, when she sends me back?!

Heavens, no! To forget what became so dear... I don't want to, no... she can't - is that hell? Will she truly send me through hell, to get back?! All of us?!

My goodness, my goodness!! May the heavens help me!!

Stam: Guys, something is wrong with our hostess. She's having a ... meltdown? Miss! Miss de La Haye, are you alright?!

Orbin: Miss de La Haye? Are you in pain?

Klaus-Ove: Miss de La Haye!

(prev)

[railroadmike1]

Baby Blue and Baby Pink

This is a fiction story about two adults in an adult nursery and the adventure they were not expecting to ever happen. ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Diaper Play:

Baby Blue and Baby Pink, are two adults complete strangers, at an adult nursery, Blue is a 40 year old man and pink is a late 20's young woman, both had applied online and were given a date and time to arrive at this adult nursery, they had know idea they would be used together in the same scene the man's name was Jacob, he was a tax agent that lost his job and wanted something fun he had fantasized about being an adult baby and saw this add online for a local adult nursery and decided to make the appointment to par take in this lifestyle.

Pink, being a 24 year old young woman dropped out of collage and became a waitress she herself was a baby to a strict daddy whom mistreated her so she did not want to start with a new daddy she wanted a skilled mommy. Pinks name is Stephanie, she wouldn't even talk to Jacob when he smiled and said hello to her, since she had a bad experience from a male Dom she did not want to think about speaking to him she just looked away from him and sat in a chair quietly. the idea of sharing her time with this man was something she was hoping would not happen.

Madam Deloris runs the adult nursery and came out and sat down with them both she said; this is my nursery and I have a dedicated staff of two other ladies that will work with me to ensure your visit here is a good one the contracts you both signed online will keep you here for three weeks. After that time if you wish to stay longer it will cost you an additional 25k per month, or lifelong and I will ensure you remain for the rest of your life as a baby. But for now a three week contract starts now. Jacob was excited. and Stephanie thought to herself, wow a three week session with a skilled mommy and no interaction from this other person. To her it was a dream come true. Madam Deloris said Oh and you will both need to change there is a his and hers changing room go get changed and we will begin. Stephanie, looked over at Jacob, and finally spoke to him, It's customary for girls to go first, I will get to play with mommy first. she then walked into the dressing room first. Jacob just smiled and stated to himself, there is plenty of mommy to go around dear. and went into his changing room what was in there was a black duffle bag that had a note attached to it the note clearly said undress and place all your clothing and under ware in this bag place the bonnet on your head once done step out thru the next door.

In the next room a tall redhead woman was standing there in what looked like a white maids outfit with a white apron on she said you must be Jacob, I am Madam Diane, I am an assistant to madam Deloris you will refer to her as Mommy ok. I have some items for you before you go into the main room of the nursery. First I will need you you get up on this table it's a special table so I can place your legs in these stirrups and shave your cock and balls, so your baby smooth. once Jacob was well shaven and a slight baby oil was smeared all over his cock and balls. Madam Diane put baby powder all over his cock and lifted his but up to slide in a diaper and attach it in place this was a large puffy kind of diaper. next was mittens these will ensure you can't use your fingers for anything. next are the booties these are spiked on the inside to ensure you don't stand or try to walk, as babies are only allowed to crawl. lastly is a pacifier babies don't talk ok and to keep this in it acts like a mouth gag and it locks behind your head only mommy has the keys to these locks. Ok all is good time to enter the nursery now on your hands and knees baby, and your new name is baby blue.

Stephanie got the same treatment but her name is baby Pink, when the doors opened both pink and blue crawled out of the rooms into the play area, this nursery looked amazing it had toys blankets and lots of stuffed animals, It had a large table for diaper changing. Both looked at each other as madam Diane whom took care of blue and madam Jessica who took care of pink both looked at each other and said now you babies play nice mommy will be in in a few minutes to feed you. Both in diapers, hands secured in MITs and both gagged with a pacifier. they both wore booties, they looked at each other and were both naked but for a diaper and bonnet and gag. this made pink nervous as she tried to cover herself as she did not like the idea of this guy blue looking at her full and large breasts. but she couldn't keep her eyes off his growing erection in his diaper. It was about that time madam Jessica and Madam Diane came in with a pair of matching onesies both babies were taken to a changing table, in the center of the room and were placed on the table, blue was first his diaper was slightly removed and a enema tube up his ass, a 3 gallon water bag was connected to it and filled him up a small plug was inserted to keep it there and his diaper was attached and then his onesie was placed on him. and lowered back to the floor the agony in his eyes said it was extreme pressure and really hurt. the two madams grabbed pink and did the same to her as well once her enema was done her belly looked as if she was 3 months pregnant. she to was lowered to the floor and the two madams walked out of the room the plugs in there asses were a dissolvable plug so unknown to them as to when there asses would fill there diapers but they didn't know when it would happen.

About that time Mommy walked in and placed pink in a cart and rolled her into a different room where she was placed on a bed, she thought finally something soft but to her surprise mommy removed the pacifier gag and said the most haunting words she heard mommy say, It's feeding time. Pinks gut was full of warm water and now mommy stated as the other two madams placed pink in place under mommies right breast, mommy said For a baby like you It's time for you to eat and what better than from mommies breast. Pink was in shock to hear this her stomach was full but mommy breasts were massively full her boobs held over 3 gallons of milk, pinks head was strapped into a special harness that kept pinks mouth open and mommy's nipple secured in pinks mouth. A device that squeezed mommies breast and her milk flowing into pinks mouth was attached to mommies breast. This would keep her milk flowing, pink swallowed gulp after gulp of fresh sweet breast milk. Once mommies boob was dry, pink was lifted up, and her pacifier gag placed back in her mouth and taken back to the nursery blue looked at pink with her pacifier gag back on she laid on the blanket moaning her once flat belly now looked six to eight months pregnant, Blue was taken to mommy and the same treatment followed, once mommies left boob was emptied, blue was taken to a different room this was the sleeping room a large crib was in there and blue was placed on his back, his head placed on a large pillow he thought to himself well this is comfortable, Pink was brought in and saw that blue was taking up all the space in the crib but to her surprise she was lifted up and placed on top of blue, a special leather head harness was secured to his head with wrist restraints attached to the sides of his head, Pink the very young woman was to laying on top of blue the crib was about the size for only one of them but as Pink was strapped with the same head harness as blue was they both looked at each other a bit confused. These two were placed in a 69 situation by the two ladies, both wearing diapers, both wearing strange head harnesses.

Mommy walked in the room and locked blues wrists to the sides of pinks head harness and pinks belly was so full it hurt a but to be laying down like this on top of this strange man that she now was laying on top of, Mommy then pushed pinks head down to meet Blues diapered crotch, pinks face was now rested between blues legs. Mommy took pink's wrists and pulled them behind her and locked them to both sides of blues head harness, with pinks arms at her sides. Mommy pushed pinks diapered butt down till it was semi smothered into blues face and the same pressing pinks face into blues crotch. Mommy then tightened all the restraints and added a wide thick belt around both of the babies back's securing them together even more pinks belly was smashed into blues chest and blues stomach into pinks chest.

Mommy then explained; my sweet babies, your now going to sleep for the night, However for your mommies, pleasure if either of you attempt to move too much by attempting to pull your arms free you will in turn smother the other deep into your diaper, For both of my babies you both took in a 3 gallon enema, then fed three gallons of my sweet fresh breast milk, the plugs in your asses is a timed release that should be in a few min from now, once it releases as your both already in a secured smothering position with each others face pressed against each others diapers, your diaper will fill up and in turn will smother you both yes it will be hard to breath but it's mommies pleasure to see you both suffer this way. as you are now both my smother babies.

Mommy expects very messy diapers by morning if mommy is not happy then mommy will just have to feed you both more breast milk and fill your asses full of hot water so that you both smother each others face for long hours breathing messy dirty diapers for awhile and I almost forgot there will not be a diaper change anytime soon, Mommy is only happy when babies suffer in each others dirty dirty messy diapers. So have a good night my sweet smothering babies. As there faces were now secured to each others diapers they both tried to wiggle free however other restraints kept them secured together and in place in this tiny crib, blue felt a cramp in his ass and tried to hold back as he did he pulled his arms up but just smothered pinks face deeper into his own crotch as pink was forced to endure being smothered now into a fresh shitty diaper she decided to fight back and let her own enema flow from her ass and pulled her arms tight smothering Blues face deep into her now soaking wet diaper as she pissed as did blue piss and shit filled each others diapers for the next 9 hours they would struggle to breath fresh air, as they both relaxed there hold over each other, but there full diapers kept them both in a full facial diaper smothering. They both struggled to breath and worst part they could not speak to each other due to the intensity of the smothering.

They were released from there restraints by the two madams the following morning only to receive another hot water enema and placed on a feeding table where both blue and pink were now secured and strapped in place there heads a few inches apart as Mommy came in her massive triple TTT boobs massive as they were she sat between blue and pink in a recliner like chair and like the day before the two madams Diane and Jessica strapped a custom leather bra like harness to mommy the bra cups had a head harness for both blue and pink this would in turn force a nipple in each of there mouths and with a device that both madams controlled rolled out mommies breasts and squeezed them forcing out mommies milk down to both babies awaiting mouths and into there throats, forcing them to swallow this session would last 4 to 5 hours.

Mommy would feed them more of her breast milk. This would go on for the duration of there stay, every day both blue and Pink where kept restrained like this. Every afternoon blue and pink were allowed play time, and every night they would be in the crib bound and secured, pink on top of blue in a forced 69 being diapered smothering all night long.

Why would mommy do this to blue and pink, Mommy had a great wonderful life till she had children whom kept her awake so mommy came up with a way to torment her children, both had to eat and mommy's boobs grew and filled with milk so mommy came up with this plan for both blue and pink. blue and pinks pacifiers only came out of there mouths for feeding on mommies breast, blue and pink could moan but not speak, sometimes mommy would nurse them both at the same time before making them suffer. this was mommy's way and that was how blue and pink lived there lives every day. Later one evening Mommy came up with an idea to have the crib with both babies in it moved down to her old basement, as the room was sound proof and mommy could have her house parties and no one other than Madam Diane and Jessica, would know there were two Adult Babies diapered smothered secured in a crib right below them. So mommy did and had several parties she made sure to feed her babies twice a day, and the two madams would make sure both had a hot water enema's, also bathed them once every day. That was till the day came that mommy did not show up nor did the two madam's. the sound of people was so muffled neither blue or pink knew who was there and who was not.

Mommy and the two Madam's all got into a massive fight screaming and yelling both Diane and Jessica left the house for good. later that night Mommy got into another serious argument on the phone and dropped to the floor, Mommy had died of a heart attack. Her oldest daughter Trish, was aware that she had two live in slaves, but was not sure as to where they were that was till she made her way to the basement. Pink and Blue had forgotten there previous lives and only knew how to smother each other and be happy, the daughter of mommy became the new mommy. Blue and pink would never feel the joys of a real orgasm while in mommy's care mommy would be the only one to enjoy a good orgasms', as mommy was an adult and babies are not. the new mommy name is mommy Trish, she found her mothers diary and read about how she grew her breasts naturally, so she could feed her live in slave babies. Mommy Trish was strict more than the first mommy. Mommy Trish added shock collars to both babies and was mean to them she would make them retain loaded diapers for a week sometimes two weeks. bathing became a once a month thing. feeding was two to three times a day and enemas became boiling hot water and nearly five gallons of it. added things like tiger balm on Pinks dildo and on Blues crotch.

Blue and pink were secured in there crib never to be released Mommy Trish gave them both a feeding mixture and on a pump and sealed off the basement no one would ever hear them again and she sold the house. Blue and pink feed ran out one week later just before passing out for good the feed system came back to life Madam Diane and Madam Jessica reloaded the feeding system but this time decided to keep them both in Diapers no changing for a year. Madam Diane and Madam Jessica took control of the house and now care for the babies and keep them in tight secured face smothering bondage for the rest of there lives. …………………………………………………………………………………………………………… Thank You for reading, If you found this fun and would like to read more from my many thoughts just ask me to I will be happy to. Understand this is an ABDL fiction story, and not real nothing like this has ever happened that I am aware of. This is purely a fantasy of what if. Nothing more. I do have other stories in the works I will get to them as time allows.

-Master Mike-

[moistvonlipwig]

3, 12, 18, and 19 for teen wolf (no worries if you want to pass on any of them)?

3. screenshot or description of the worst take you’ve seen on tumblr

oh see now this question is impossible because teen wolf fandom is capable of producing bad takes that other fandoms can only dream of. "scott helping align a dog's broken leg in his capacity as an assistant vet tech is animal abuse." "stalia is problematic because malia is 45 in coyote years." "scott violated/raped derek" (re: a scene in which scott is forced under duress to make derek bite gerard, which derek only objected to because he did not know about scott's secret plan). "stiles is the only one who ever respected derek." "scott has been narrating the entire show to make himself look better." "deaton is shady and evil." "scott abused jackson" (a real thing someone sent to my inbox). even jeff davis got in on it with "kira's story didn't have anything left to explore." however despite stiff competition i do think we have to give this award to "scott is a werewolf colonizer" because there is something so special about accusing a mexican boy of colonizing the culture of white people who are living in california. and also because it is so so funny to say.

12. the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

hm. i don't know if i like any characters who are unpopular within the fandom circles i travel in. like certainly scott is unpopular with the fandom at large, we know this, but i don't travel in those circles so. idk. i guess i think victoria argent is interesting? imo after allison she's the most compelling argent. i think killing yourself rather than becoming a werewolf shows a kind of commitment to one's ideology that automatically makes a character interesting. i don't know what the popular opinion on victoria argent is but that's my take.

18. it’s absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on…

see again i could point to fandom at large for this but frankly fandom at large sleeps on anything that isn't sterek or steter so i could say anything and it would be true. so my actual answer is that i think more people should ship theo/mason. i get why sceo is popular but i don't know why thiam is so big when...thason? meo? (personally i am voting for meo as a ship name because it looks like meow. however i am willing to be overruled.)...is right there. one of my actual most unpopular opinions is idgaf about morey because i couldn't care less about corey. i don't even know that boy's last name. he's nothing to me. but theo/mason??? both of them experimented on by the dread doctors, one of them 'evil' and the other 'good' (too 'good' to be traumatized, if you ask jeff davis, which is why you should never ask jeff davis), one of them so compassionate and caring, the other callous and lacking empathy, on opposite sides of the fight, yet both bound by the same trauma, and both deep inside wanting to help? look i'm not a big m/m shipper so i'm not gonna write the fic but SOMEONE should write the fic. is what i'm saying.

19. you’re mad/ashamed/horrified you actually kind of like…

disclaimer i am not ashamed of liking anything because, to paraphrase the great cordelia chase, shame is not something to be proud of. however i am a little mad that stiles and derek genuinely have such a fun relationship. i do actually wish they had more scenes together and i would happily watch an entire episode that was just the two of them on a buddy cop roadtrip and if people wrote more platonic fic of them with their canon personalities being forced into Situations together then i Would read it. i don't ship them because it's not my cup of tea shipping-wise and i think fanon sterek is nothing like canon sterek and is deeply uninteresting but in the year 2024 i must confess that canon stiles & derek did make some points.

[valentinehorrors]

Her

(TW: Gore)

Every night the same dream. The same dinner, the same conversations, the same two act structure.

But every once in a while, right before he could end the dream, he was able to speak to the one responsible.

She appeared wearing his face, sitting at the opposite side of the table. Her eyes were blood red, and darkness seemed to overflow from every crevice it could, her eyes, her mouth, the cracks in her mirrored shell.

"You do realize, that this stopped working a long time ago." Mikey said as he stared at his bloody plate, three hearts. Once he eats all three, the dream ends.

"I'll take your annoyance over your disturbance." Her voice sounded like two overlapping each other, one of them was his voice, the other was what he had assumed was her true voice, a feminine but deeper voice, almost as cold as him.

He didn't even bat an eye as he took the first heart and took a bite. Despite it being a dream, he never forgot the first time he had to sit through act 2. The taste is burned into his mind, not just from having the same dream every night. It was cold, presumably from having been laying on the table for a while, and very salty. The texture was... almost indescribable, chewy and tough, without his sharpened canines, it would've taken him a lot longer to chew through it.

She frowned and leaned forward "You're not special you know."

"So you've said."

"I'm just weakened."

"Mhm."

"I would've taken you over right now if I wanted."

"Mhm."

"Killed your whole family and make you watch-"

"While you make me eat them?" Mikey held up the half eaten heart before continuing to eat. He theorized this was Raph's, tougher and chewier than the other two and took just a bit more effort.

He could hear her huff in frustration. She's always like this.

Irritating.

Mikey sighed as he swallowed his last bite of the first heart, he could vaguely hear cracking somewhere far off, the beginning of the end of the dream.

He could hear the tapping of her fingers from across the table, the next one was saltier, he ties it to being Donnie's. His eyes drifting over to said brother's corpse, blood painting his front plastron. A hole was ripped into him, organs and other bones pushed to the side, some bits of broken shell having caved in and stuck inside muscle. The imagery that appears in his mind is also nothing new, a fight between him and Donnie, ending with him plunging his hand into his brother's chest, a desperation suddenly overcoming him to eat.

Boring.

He must admit, if some type of confrontation were to break out between him and Donnie, he knew it wouldn't be all that physical, at least not at first. His persona is solid and unshakeable, he had contingencies on top of contingencies in the case of even the smallest crack being spotted by his brothers. Raph would take any explanation easily, waving off and dismissing whatever he would see. Leo would probably hold some doubt for about a few days, but then convince himself that any explanation offered make sense, after all, it's Mikey, his little brother.

Donnie is a coin flip.

Mikey knows his family, he's analyzed all of them for their whole lives, he can script out most of their interactions, knowing how things will play out. Which is why he considers Donnie the biggest threat. He's scripted out in his head how it would happen.

Donnie would catch on that something is off, he'd keep poking and poking and no matter what Mikey tried, he'd start to see behind his mask. If there was anyone who would be the first to pry the mask off of Mikey's face against his will, it would be Donnie. Convincing the other two would be a different story but it would only be a matter of time.

He's always careful when it comes to tugging at Donnie's strings.

He didn't realize he had already finished the heart by the time his thought train concluded.

She looked even more annoyed at how nonchalant and bored Mikey seemed, good.

The last heart was the definition of average, he could describe it as bland and boring, this was Leo's.

"You're welcome by the way. Usually mortals need to offer me some great sacrifice to use any of my abilities and here you are, using them for free, and to spy on some random mortal, ugh."

"Mhm." He wasn't ashamed, she was right. Ever since Mikey learned how to keep tabs on Casey every chance he got, that's exactly what he did.

He quickly learned Casey's schedule, saw his household life, his school life and his outings with... April.

Ugh.

He heard her chuckle and glanced over to see her too wide smile, "I felt that. I must say, I utterly adore how some redhead gets your blood boiling so quickly~"

"Shut up." Mikey snapped, he just didn't like her, that was all.

I fantasize of her bones breaking, blood pouring, muscles tearing, fear in her eyes, a shuddering final breath.

She laughed, a sound Mikey firmly disliked, "oh what I would give to have her be the first to discover me... perhaps I'll do just that when I take over."

Just empty threats, he's heard a million of them all along the lines of things she'll do when she 'takes over.' At first he took it seriously, but five years later, and her threats have yet to hold any water.

It still gets to him, though he wishes it didn't, just so she would stop smiling.

"You know... she does seem to be very close with your favorite human..."

Shut up...

"They spend a lot of time together..."

She doesn't even know why he's actually missing teeth.

"He seems to quite enjoy her company..."

She doesn't even know he's trans.

"And he might like it too~"

Mikey's eyes boil with rage as he stares at her, his true anger being silent. But they were in a dream, in Mikey's mind, so his thoughts were on full display, their surroundings cracked like a broken mirror, each shard showing a different fantasy.

Smashing her head against the concrete, grabbing her by her stupid ponytail and making sure her skull is mush.

A kusarigama blade sliding across her throat and reveling in the cascade of blood.

Breaking the bones in her limbs and making her watch as I bend every joint the wrong way.

"That's enough." He simply stated as he took the last bite, the last echo in his mind being her cackling laugh.

He woke up in his bed, still feeling the fuming anger. He had to take more than a few minutes to calm the storm in his mind, pushing his palms into his eyes as he sighed, he truly hated her.

"Which her?"

He groaned as he sat up in his bed, taking another moment to calm himself, she can't get to him if he stays calm, apathetic. He glances over at his phone, pausing to listen carefully outside his door...

Everyone is asleep, he checks the time in his phone to make sure it's late enough that they won't be waking up for a while.

Then, without a second thought, he opened up his text messages and sent a simple message.

"Roof"