#he even went on to forgive them and focus instead on himself moving on from the abuse

[ddiidi]

bf!Bangchan x gn!reader (ot8 mentioned)

Masterlist

When he calls you clingy, so you distance yourself

Previous Pt. 1

Pt. 2

Next Pt. 3

!Warnings: angst, swearing, fun at the end bc reader needs fun in life (lmk if i missed anything)

Important!Side-Note!: Should I do a happy ending for them?

It has been 3 days since that incident. 3 days and still not a single message from Chan, not even an apology for yelling at you, nothing. You've been texting him every now and then, to ask if he's okay, eats and sleeps. He never replied to any of them, nor has he seen them, so you spend most of the time packing your stuff and working from home. You were glad you had a job you also could work from home for. Every now and then, you went over to the building, to check a few things, walking extra detours, to make sure, you won't bump into Chan.

A few of the other members texted you the past days, asking if everything is okay and why the haven't seen you around for a while, to which you just replied with "Busy with work and private stuff, dww:)". It made you happy they actually care that much about you, just because they haven't seen you in a few days, but also anxious and sad, since they care, but chan hasn't even shown any intress in you the past days. You weren't even able to tell him that you're moving.

More days pass, and a few days, turn into a week of no textes from Chan. At this point, you wondered if he even knew that you still exist.

So here you were, in your old apartment, stuffed with boxes, not being able to get your mind off chan and his well-being, even though, you're still deeply hurt from what he said, you couldn't just not not care about him....He pointed out two of your insecurities, just like that as if it was nothing and he doesn't even care...not about you not your feelings.

You let out a deep sigh. You should be getting ready for a day with your friends. Not think about some man, who happened to be the love of your life, who calls you his partner, but doesn't even know how to cherish you.

You let out another, heavy, sigh as you drop to the floor to put on your shoes, Let's just focus on having a great time today, you thought to yourself and left the apartment.

Well, maybe it was not the best decision to go out today...

Chan for his part, had to listen to a lectur from Felix, after you ran out, crying. "Chris..you really shouldn't have said all that to her. I understand that you were annoyed or whatever, but that was no reason to yell at her" "Really now? They were just being a fucking, clingy and annoying crybaby that couldn't take no for an answer, for whatever reason." chan sighed out, at the younger member. "That crybaby...was really uncalled for chris. They're your partner, not some random person on the street you can yell at. I wouldn't wonder if they took that "Leave me alone" to heart and actually leave you after that action." "But I-" chan starts, "I'm just saying chris. You better fix this before it's too late. After what you pulled, partners are faster gone than you could blink" with that, Felix leaves the room, leaving Chan alone, again.

Since that talk, Chan locked himself in his studio, thinking about the best way to apologize for what he said. But he couldn't find one. No matter how long he thought, days, a whole week, there was nothing but regret. He just had to apologize in person and beg for forgivness, hoping that you'd actually forgive him.

So there he was, with a giant bouquet of flowers, fresh clothes and hope.

He had the code to your apartment, so he opened the door, ready to be greeted by the warm, wide open hallway, but was greeted with the cold gray of bunch of boxes instead and the first thing he felt, was panic."Y/n? Y/n are you there?" he yelled, as he ran through your whole apartment, but as he saw that even all your date polaroid pictures where gone, he couldn't help but panic even more.

He let's the flowers fall on the floor, running to your room and nearly collapsed when he found..nothing. Where were you? Did you actually go? Did you actually leave him? All these questions consumed his head and that's when he broke, crying to the point he couldn't breath. He took out his phone and called the first number he saw in his recent calls. It peeped a few times, before someone took the call.

"Hey Chris everything alr-" "They're gone! Felix they're gone, they're not here i don't know what to do! I've never meant it I was just-" chan cried and gasped out at felix on the other line. "Woah there calm down, try to breath I don't understand a word. Relax, I'll be there okay? You know there is an explination for everything, that's what you always say, so try to relax it's okay" Felix tried to soothen the older man, while grabbing his keys and running out to his car. Chan didn't reply anything to that and continued soobing.

I have your location, I'll be there in 5." that's the last thing chan heared from felix, before he collapsed on the floor in your apartment.

And you? You were drinking coffee with your friends, while your bestie told you guys a story how she saw a horse that nearly drowned.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾✧༺🖤༻✧✧༺🖤༻✧✧༺🖤༻✧☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

@finnbbl @wolfs-howling

[starrylothcat]

2 and 11 from the most recent prompt list?

(Kisses down the neck underneath a high necked shirt (cough blacks cough)) (Kisses all over the face until.) With Crosshair? Man always is so sassy but I want a little sugar with him sometimes too.

Happily Ever After

Pairing: Crosshair x GenReader

Summary: You and Crosshair share a ‘lil cozy romantic moment.

Warnings: None? Cheesy drabble with kissing. Potential implied sexy times at the end but nothing is described or explicit. Can be read either way I think. Reader isn’t described. Established relationship.

WC: 1,000

A/N: I am filled with cheese (and sugar) after writing this. It’s getting colder where I live and I’m feeling cozy. I love writing ‘lil soft moments with this man. Also he’s totally a reader. Thanks so much for the ask! ❤️

You were curled up on the couch next to Crosshair, a small fire crackling in your fireplace.

Though Pabu was mostly tropical, the winter months dropped enough in temperature to warrant a small fire in the evenings.

Your legs were on his lap as you laid on the couch, Crosshair using them as an armrest.

You were absentmindedly watching a silly Holovid while Crosshair read on his datapad. Ever since being rescued from the Empire, Crosshair had taken up a few hobbies to keep him busy on Pabu. One of them was reading. He devoured literature, often finishing a novel in a day or two.

You were used to this routine, quiet evenings with just the two of you. You loved hearing him speak of the tales he finished, hearing his thoughts on characters and motivations.

You tried to keep up with him and read the same books, though his keen eyes were able to read and process words much faster than you.

The novels you could finish, you’d sometimes talk for hours about them with him.

You tried to focus on the Holovid, but you were distracted by his profile as he read. His sharp features have softened a bit in the time he’s been on Pabu, the delicate warmth of the fireplace adding a glow to his skin.

He looked peaceful, serene even. You knew the trials and tribulations he went through, the heartbreak and tragedy. You knew he still carried regret like stones in his heart, never quite forgiving himself for what he put his brothers through, though they have forgiven him.

You shifted, slowly sitting up. Crosshair didn’t budge, engrossed in the story. It wasn’t until you moved your legs off his lap and turned off the vid that he gave you a questioning look.

You stretched your arms above your head, readjusting yourself next to him.

You peeked at the words on his datapad, this story about a pirate who kidnaps a hot-headed princess for ransom, but ends up falling for her instead.

“Enjoying this one?” You asked, leaning your head on his shoulder.

Crosshair shrugged.

“It’s fine. Could use some more action and less romance, though.”

You snorted, flicking your eyes up to him.

“Too lovey dovey for you?”

A ghost of a smirk played at the corners of his mouth.

“The princess should kick the pirate’s ass instead of kissing them, is all I’m saying.”

You turned toward him more fully.

“But the pirate has a heart of gold and she sees straight through him! Tale old as time.”

“How do you know?” Crosshair asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I read the summary.” You replied, laughing.

Crosshair still stared at you.

“Okay, okay. I watched the Holofilm they made for this story!”

Crosshair let out a dry chuckle, setting the datapad down.

“Well, you can save me the time and just tell me the rest of the story. Let me guess, they live happily ever after?”

You snorted. “Is that so bad?”

You traced your hand over his, slowly moving up his arm.

Crosshair grunted as your hand made its way up to his shoulder, and up to his cheek. You cupped his face, gently moving his head to face you entirely.

“Is it so bad for the princess to fall for the handsome, roguish fiend?” You whispered, the fire now reflecting in his eyes as he focused on you.

You kissed his cheek, starting a slow path to his other cheek, over his nose and down to his chin.

Crosshair’s long fingers were now tracing up and down your back as you left featherlight pecks all over his face.

You felt him relax into the couch, his breath hitching slightly as you made your way from his stubbled jawline and under his ear, a highly sensitive spot only you knew about.

“It’s not so bad, I suppose.” Crosshair mumbled, his eyes closing, getting lost in the feeling of your lips on his skin.

You made your way down his neck, mentally making a note of how his breathing changed at certain spots.

You hooked a finger at the collar of his blacks, tugging them down to get more access to his skin. You took in his musky scent, how his hand was subtly pulling you closer to him as you continued your journey, relishing in this reserved moment of him letting you take control.

You left small nibbles, using your tongue to trace small patterns at the skin of his neck, which was now flushed with some color, pulling his blacks down further.

His slight grunts and labored breathing was music to your ears that you could listen to forever, his skin becoming hot under your ministrations. You finally lifted your head and topped it all off with a long, deep kiss on his lips.

Crosshair groaned as he lifted you into his lap, fully wrapping his arms around you, taking back some control as his mouth moved with yours.

His tongue danced across your lips, announcing his intention. You invited him in, letting your tongues slowly slide against one another, his hand cradling the back of your head. It was a languid kiss, perfectly matching the tone of the night.

When you finally pulled yourself away from him to catch a much-needed breath, his eyes held a mirthful glint.

“Do you really want me to tell you how the story ends?” You whispered, touching your forehead to his.

“Hmmm…” Crosshair hummed, beginning his own mission of leaving kisses on your cheeks, your forehead, your chin, and down to your neck, your own body heating up at his touch.

“I’ll have to decide that later.” Crosshair’s breath was hot on your skin, his kisses becoming more intense.

You let out a squeal as Crosshair quickly maneuvered you on your back, bouncing slightly on the plush cushions as his lithe body hovered over you.

You smiled as he continued on, leaving no part of your skin untouched by his lips.

By the time you were finished, the fire had burned to embers, and you lay entwined together, drifting off in one another’s arms enjoying the peace of the night.

Though Crosshair would never say it out loud, he did find his happily ever after, and that was in these moments with you.

Taglist: @crosshairlovebot @sev-on-kamino @kimiheartblade @wizardofrozz @clonemedickix @sunshinesdaydream @kashasenpai @freesia-writes @multi-fan-dom-madness @aconstructofamind @dreamie411 @dystopicjumpsuit @wings-and-beskar @starqueensthings @idontgetanysleep @secretthegriffin @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @secondaryrealm @littlemissmanga @maybethatfanfictionwriter @pb-jellybeans @wanderer-six @king-chaos-world @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar @523rdrebel @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @sleepingsun501 @coraex @cw80831 @dangraccoon @mythical-illustrator @eternal-transcience @the-cantina @nahoney22 @moonlightwarriorqueen @skellymom

Divider by @dystopicjumpsuit

[matan4il]

Buddie 616 meta

Maybe I’ll start with Eddie confirming something I’d already discussed in my meta posts more than once before, most recently in my 614 meta, which is that he married Shannon because she got pregnant. He heavily insinuated this to Bobby back in 217, but now he said it explicitly, to everyone, and without the same kind of weight which we saw from him in the past. I think this change is indicative of how he IS healing from the trauma of how badly his marriage failed and how guilty he’s felt over it, now that he’s capable of talking about it more lightly than he did before. I love that for our boy. ~~

Speaking of these men actually being boys, moron husbands, partners in dumbness, we got Buck and Eddie sharing one brain cell and NOT putting it to good use. Even though in the overall scheme of 911 things, that might not seem that significant, I have to say I just love seeing them like that. It’s FUN seeing them being morons who support each other in the way they try to deal with Chim thinking that just popping the question to Maddie is enough, or in Eddie supporting Buck’s dumbass suggestion of a flash mob, or just being pressed together in the fire truck ‘coz they never have any personal boundaries with each other and they don’t understand why those would even be needed (seriously, don’t think too long about how all of a sudden five people had to squeeze in the back instead of four, and OF COURSE it would be Buck and Eddie rubbing thighs together, because no other pair out of the whole team is as comfortable with each other’s bodies). This may not be the deepest part of their bond, but it IS a part of it, a consistent one, the daily partnership that’s the foundation for the big, important, profound parts. ~~

Once again, we get a demonstration of how the way Buck and Eddie are with each other is different to how they act with their other friends. Even when Eddie is exasperated with Buck, he never actually gets upset, he just tries to get Buck to focus, like we saw him in 516. But with Ravi, Eddie does kinda snap.

Buck as well, when he hears some unpleasant truths about Madney from Hen, there’s no fondness underlining their talk, as much as we know that they DO love each other and have a sibling-like relationship. But compare that to how insufferably affectionate the glances that Buddie exchanged in 504 were as Eddie did essentially the same thing for Buck. ~~

And then of course, we see how Hen has Chimney’s back in this ep, putting his well being first, but she does end up hurting him. They talk it over, and within the same ep she apologizes, he forgives her, everything is resolved, and they move. It’s lovely, but think about the difference in intensity between this and what Buddie went through back in s3. Buck files the lawsuit that would stop him from seeing Eddie in 304. Then the very reserved Eddie has a public meltdown, in the middle of a store, and right in front of his colleagues, because he can’t deal with Buck not being in his life. In fact, that’s the final straw that makes Eddie turn to street fighting. Not only that, because the intensity of his feelings overwhelms him, he doesn’t even directly express his hurt, he uses Chris to convey how much Eddie himself is missing Buck. When Buck realizes just how much pain he unintentionally caused, he wants to apologize, but Eddie is too hurt to be able to hear him out right away. It’s only in 306 that they finally talk, Eddie forgives Buck and then we get the beauty of their hug. But this is STILL not the final piece, no. The show will get back to this in the kitchen scene in 309, where Buck shows Eddie he’s worth apologizing to a second time (even though he’s not even asking Buck to), and the final shot of this is the domestic image of Buddifer on the couch, playing video games together. This is when we know that all is TRULY forgiven, when we get to see them once more as a family unit. Because that’s what they are on top of being best friends, like Hen and Chimney. ~~

I’ll point out that Madney and Buddie paralleling is not new. This has been an ongoing theme since Buck and Chim’s new love interests were both introduced in 201, and since Madney got their onset in 206. The very fact that Maddie thinking Chim’s cute is revealed through a dialogue between the Buckley siblings that also indicates Buck sees Eddie in the same light says it all. I have also gone on about how Buck and Maddie served as truth tellers, voicing their sibling’s crush back to them, I have talked about how Madney were friends first, incredibly domestic friends with their own intertwined routine, before they became explicitly romantic, I wrote a whole meta post about the parallels between Madney and Buddie in 512, and now I can add to this. Because Madney easily fell into the comfort of domestic life, Chim told us this week that got in the way of them stopping to make their commitment official. That’s in a sense Buddie’s story, too. They’ve been building their lives and family unit together without even clocking that they can and should stop to figure out what this thing between them is, and commit to it.

~~ (my weekly meta posts) (my Buddie gifs) (all of my content)

~~ ~~ My tag list will follow in the reblog, please let me know if you wanna be added/removed here.

~~ I’m so thankful to the amazing @whosoldherout​​ for the meta gifs she does each week! They’re always challenging, and you always manage to knock it out of the park!

~~ Thank you to anyone supporting these meta posts. I could never express enough how grateful I am and that they continue to exist thanks to you!

[god-complex-12]

I've read alot of your moon knight stuff and am a big fan. So if you dont mind can I request Steven grant trying to power bottom for the first time but reader just takes over and fucks him instead.

Tried Your Best *

— Paring; [Mr. Knight] Steven Grant x male reader. Fandom; Moon Knight/Marvel

Quote; “Bet you won’t be trying this again, huh?”

Disclaimer; SMUT. Restraints. Embarrassment. Dumbification. Riding. Teasing. Penetration (Character receiving). Sub Steven. Dom reader. Amab reader.

Word Count: 0.9k

Masterlist

A/N: If you know me irl (you know who you are) do not read this. Thank you for your request and once again, I am so so sorry for how long it has taken me to get to these requests. I am sorry. I’ve just been really really busy, please forgive me. My request will remain closed until I can get these other ones out.

Steven was tired, so so tired. His thighs ached, and his dick throbbed. He was sweaty and his face was red with frustration and embarrassment. He felt both under and overstimulated. His movements never stopped, but his pleasured moans did. He only panted in desperation. He looked like a wreck. His hair was messy and his brows were knitted together. He was supposed to take the reins, but Steven couldn’t even please himself, let alone Y/N. He was pathetically sloppy, losing all the rhythm he had before.

Steven looked down to the restrained man below him. He cringed at Y/N’s smug expression. He whined and stilled himself — almost in defeat. His face was red with embarrassment. He gripped at Y/N’s shoulders, his nails digging into the flesh in frustration.

“Need help?” Y/N asked with an almost- no, a taunting grin.

Steven’s pathetic glare made Y/N chuckle teasingly. “Come on.” Y/N gentured to Steven’s desperate state with his head. . “You’re getting nowhere like this. Let me help you.” He tried to offer.

Steven whined. “You’re more bottom than power when you make noises like that.” Y/N said with a taunting grin and laugh.

Steven tried moving again, only to stop again in defeat. He begins to fist himself in desperation. His frustration grew every second he was deprived of a release. Y/N gripped at the rope around his wrists. “This is sad to watch.” Y/N lied, Y/N loved watching every but of this. Every single bit.

“Shut up.” Steven grumbled. Any snarkiness in his voice was gone, instead he sounded whiny and shaky. He went back to trying to move again, but he was quickly met with the same disappointing fate. Steven whines in frustration. He shoved his red face in his hands as he let out a dramatic sob.

Y/N looked up at his restraints then back to Steven. His eyebrows rose in an offer. He didn’t say anything — he didn’t have to. His face said it all and Steven understood immediately.

Steven hesitates to undo the rope that bound Y/N to the head board. Y/N grins as his hands are free. He rubs his slightly sore wrists. He then leaned up and kissed Steven. He gently flipped both of them — Steven on his back, Y/N hovering over him. Y/N’s hands roam over Steven’s thighed and chest. Y/N was slow at first despite Steven’s whines in protest.

Y/N began moving. A moan escaped Steven’s mouth as his eyes squeezed shut as he finally felt some relief. He was slow at first. The urge to cum came quickly for Steven from all the over-under stimulation. Y/N puts his hand on Steven's cock and begins rubbing his thumb on the tip. Steven bit his lip and moaned.

Y/N sets a fast pace, his thrusts way more coordinated than how Steven was before. Steven's moans and gasps filled the room. His eyes were squeezed shut as if to focus on the pleasure he wasn’t able to get before. He felt his orgasm was approaching way quicker than he had expected.

“I’m close- oh, shit- I’m close.” He moaned out. His arms wrapped around Y/N.

Y/N chuckled. “Oh, yeah?” He said, tauntingly.

Steven groaned and his head shot back into the pillow. He bit his lip and hummed in confrontation. Y/N snickered at the sight. “Come on, Steven.” He said with a grin. He gripped Steven's thighs.

Steven practically sobbed as he came all over himself. Y/N fucks Steven through his high. “Don’t you feel so much better?” He cooed, gently rubbing circles on Steven’s thighs. Steven pants and nods frantically, his eyes still closed.

Y/N continues to move, this time at a slow pace so as to not hurt the man below him too bad. Steven doesn’t stop him despite the pain — instead, he finds a bit of pleasure in it. Y/N slowly picks up his pace again. Steven whined in the slight overstimulation, but it felt too good to stop. Y/N attached himself to Steven's neck, leaving a pretty little mark for the morning.

Steven felt all control leave him when Y/N hit the same spot over and over. His mind hazed over with lust, pleasure and pain. Multiple pleads spill from his mouth. “Please, please, don’t stop.” He begged. “Oh, please.” He babbles out nonsense.

Y/N’s chuckle was cut off by a moan himself. Steven desperately clawed at Y/N back. The mix of pain and pleasure caused Y/N to groan. Y/N leaned down and kissed Steven. Steven was too out of it to really kiss back, but he tried. Y/N chuckled against his lips when he realized he was fucking the poor guy dumb.

“Bet you won’t be trying this again, huh?” He teased.

“Shut up.”

[janus-cadet]

So, I've been watching Hazbin Hotel, and Helluva Boss.

Loved it. Therefore, obviously, to none of my friends' surprise, I added the fandom in that nonsensical tarot project of mine- and it starts with Lucifer, the short king himself, as the Five of Cups.

(The Devil was already taken, which both caused me immense amont of dismay, and just as much relief, because that version of Lucifer does NOT fit the Devil card as much as he could.)

Now, under the cut (only for the braves who can handle a long post spoken in broken english), the mandatory explanation for the choice of the card and the composition.

A joyous card, isn't it! Ahah? Totally. Let's get right into it.

The Five of Cups, Upright, often appears in a reading when a situation hasn't turned out the way you expected, leaving you sad, regretful and disappointed. I mean, you just gave one (1) apple to humanity, just to give them free will, and look what they did with it! What the hell, literally! You are blaming yourself, and instead of moving on with your life (despite the small inconvenience of being banished to an endless pit of evil and horror), you ar choosing to wallow in your self-pity. All you can focus on right now is what went wrong and how you failed. You're stuck in the past, and you can't let go; old wounds you never closed are keeping you from trying to create some positive changes. Which is why the card is here: to help you forgive. Forgiveness, to others and to yourself, is the only way you'll be able to release yourself from your sadness and disappointment. Remember that foresight and wisdom in the present moments comes from mistakes of the past: reflect on what led you to this point, and try to find something positive by reflecting on the lessons learned. You can rebuilt, you still can challenge an unfair system, despite everything! New possibilities are waiting for you, as shown by your daughter. You just have to be ready to accept it. Shift your mindset and focus on what can go right from this point forward.

Reversed, the card suggests that you might look at yourself specifically as a failure. You are stuck in a loop of self-loathing, and can't bring yourself to open up to others about those feelings. The reversed Five of Cups card is here to encourage you to open up: people around you may not see how much pain you're in right now, so don't be afraid to ask for help or talk to someone you trust.

You cannot undo the past, and just as Lucifer at the end of the first season, you are starting to accept that. You are slowly discovering how to be open to the new opportunities and ideas shown to you; you are finally starting to be more hopeful anout the future. You may not be fully okay again, you might still be in pain, but you are taking the first step: the card encourage you to keep doing so. Focus on the bright side. Not all is lost!

Lot of talks already, so I'll quickly go over those. The cups (that I spend too long on for such a small detail in the whole piece agh agh) are, as I drew them, a symbols of the regrets and the remorses felt. The regrets are the titled, broken cups: Lucifer's marriage, his relation with his daughter, and the dreams he had as an angel. Three things that feels like they are lost, damaged beyond repairs- but that are, in fact, still within reach. The content hasn't even spill yet. The remorses are the acts that can't be undone, and the effect on the vision he has of himself- the bitten apple, and the beastly devil that can't be trust. Those are te things he keeps blaming himself for, and the source of the self-loathing he's stuck into. But! He's turning his back on them, as a way to show he is not as linked to those things as he thinks he is. One is a thing of the past, the other is merely a shadow of who he is- what's important is what lays in front of him.

And that's it for today! You're still here? Dang, you're resilient. Thank you very much, hope you enjoyed this. And you're just in time for a little ending poll!

See, I started two other WIPs while drawing Lucifer. Therefore...

[ronanziriano]

Augusnippets Day 17 - Forgiveness

Things had been nonstop since Whumpee had returned to his team. From the whirlwind rescue mission to the point where they had been clear enough of danger to give Whumpee the medical attention he had desperately needed, it was all a rush, a cacophony of flashing lights and gunshots and his teammates’ voices and his own aching wounds and spinning head and inability to stay fully conscious. This was the first time that Whumpee got a bit of peace and quiet.

Well, almost. One teammate still stood at his bedside, chewing their lip and wringing their hands, unable to look Whumpee in the eyes.

Whumpee knew why. Whumper had filled him in on just how he had been able to find and capture him in the first place. But he didn’t want to bring it up first. He’d wait for Teammate to break that ice.

It took them a while. Several times they opened their mouth as if ready to speak, only to close it again with a nervous grimace. The longer it went on, the more awkward the silence became between them. Whumpee was almost ready to give in and break it himself, when finally, in a strained squeak, Teammate blurted out, “I’m sorry!”

Once the first words were out, it was like flootgates had been thrown open. Teammate barely paused for breath as they apologized over and over. They sobbed as they explained that they had thought they were making the right move, how Whumper’s offer in exchange for the information that had taken Whumpee down was too good to refuse. How they hadn’t known how much torture they were setting Whumpee up to endure, how they’d been so sure the team would been able to rescue him much sooner than they did. How terrible they felt. How they would understand if Whumpee hated them forever.

Whumpee listened to it all, letting Teammate’s crying echo in the otherwise silent room. He had known that this confrontation was coming, and wasn’t sure how he was going to feel when it did. He still didn’t quite know what he was feeling. The pang of betrayal was still there, and a sense of dread filled his gut at being here alone with someone who had hurt him so badly, but Teammate’s sorrowful apology almost made Whumpee feel guilty himself, for being part of putting them in that pitiful state. At one point Teammate took his hand in their own, and tears came unbidden to Whumpee’s own eyes.

Overwhelmed - that was probably the best word for his state of mind.

He didn’t interrupt for the longest time, not until Teammate’s speech devolved into whispered, blubbering apologies repeated over and over like a mantra, barely coherent through the tears. When he was finally ready to speak, he took a long, deep breath and, voicy shaky and soft, said, “I - I get it. I mean, I don’t - I’m not saying I would have done the same, in your shoes. But I get why you did it. I understand.”

Teammate’s jaw dropped. “You - you do?” they stammered incredulously.

“Yeah. Yeah. You’re, um - I know you. You’re my friend. I know you wouldn’t… wouldn’t do something like that, if - if you didn’t have a very good - ”

“Oh, god, don’t. It doesn’t matter what my reason was, I never should have done it! You didn’t deserve this, any of this. I am so, so - ”

“I know,” Whumpee cut them off. “I know, I believe you.” He took another steadying breath. “The important thing is, I’m back now, right? So now, just need to focus on healing, and - and moving past this. Hey.” He looked Teammate right in the eye. “I forgive you. I do.”

Teammate responded with a wordless cry as they wrapped Whumpee in a hug, not tight enough to further agitate the healing injuries, but enough that they could nestle their head into Whumpee’s shoulder as the tears came flowing even harder than before.

Whumpee, for his part, patted them gently on the back, whispering, “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

Teammate probably believed it.

Whumpee certainly hoped they did. It was taking every ounce of his willpower not to scream and shove Teammate away. To keep patting them consolingly instead of moving their hand up just a few inches to grab Teammate’s neck and try his damnedest to snap it in two.

But he had to wait. He had to let his body heal, and let things get back to normal among the team, let Teammate think everything was okay between them. The fact that they thought things could ever be made right, that what they did was anywhere near forgivable, was laughable. Naïve. And Whumpee wasn’t naïve, not anymore. Whumper had made sure to beat that quality out of him long ago, leaving only desolation in its place.

An opportunity would come later, he knew, to make Teammate suffer as much as he had. And the only way for that to happen was for the betrayal to truly sting, to come from someone they had trusted, had embraced as family.

He just needed to bide his time.

@augusnippets

[frankenjoly]

By chance

- for fukumori week 2024's day 1: jealousy - no-powers au, mori & elise are childhood besties

In theory, Fukuzawa could handle himself in almost every social situation. In practice, these kinds of parties weren’t exactly his forté.

He  had only attended because Gen’ichirô (the one actually invited there from the two of them) had somehow convinced him (one of his arguments being how he needed to hang out with more people than either him and his own coworkers/trainees). So every time he went on to greet someone he knew, Fukuzawa mainly stood there, waiting for his friend to come back.

At least until he introduced him to the party’s hosts, when saying he got awestruck wouldn’t exactly be an understatement.

The pair were a blond blue-eyed woman who looked like and was dressed like a porcelain doll, which couldn’t be anyone else but the main reason the event had gotten to take place in the first place, and the man who instantly took Fukuzawa’s breath away. Way more tangible-looking than his companion but not in any way less gorgeous because of that, with black hair tied into a low ponytail and purple eyes so enticing he couldn’t help but stare. And the man in question, instead of acting coy, responded by staring back.

“Yukichi, this is the birthday girl in the flesh, our esteemed–” His focus only came back when Gen’ichirô started making introductions, until being interrupted by the woman herself. 

Or it would be more accurate to state he simply let her take the reins instead.

“You can just call me Elise.” She instantly said, smiling wide and not bothering to hide a giggle at his confusion. And he had all the right to be confused; the idea of addressing someone he had just met so casually felt odd. “And this is–” She smiled mischievously, poking her companion with her index finger. “Rintarô, are you with us?” Even when he started to react, she went on and repeated the gesture a couple of times more, each one more insistent than the previous one.

“Of course, Elise-chan, dear.” The man blinked, directing his gaze towards Elise and away from Fukuzawa, also taking her hand as if to plead for forgiveness. “I would never dare to ignore you, less so at your birthday party.”

“Pfft, whatever you say, dum-dum.”

The way they addressed each other, informal and affectionate, as well as the very little to no single qualms they had when it came to physical touch, obviously meant a great deal of closeness between the two. And shouldn’t be like that, especially not when it involved a man he had just met, but the mere fact stirred something uncomfortable in Fukuzawa’s insides.

“You won’t believe me? After all we’ve been through?” After Elise answered with a scoff, he moved his attention back to Fukuzawa. “Pardon me.” Were his next words, accompanied by a slight bow. “Mori Ôgai, pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Fukuzawa instantly said, mirroring his gesture. 

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

“Also, sorry for the indiscretion, but I must ask. Have you two been a couple for too long?”

Both Mori and Elise’s reactions were similar in nature, but different in intensity. He let out a brief laugh, waving a hand to dismiss the idea, while she straight up bursted into laughter with no trace of shame nor making any attempt at avoiding attracting attention. That obviously caused several heads to turn in their direction, and Fukuzawa silently prayed to be rescued by Gen’ichirô, who had gone away for a while upon recognizing his most trusted work colleague at her arrival.

“Please–” It took Elise a few minutes and a ton of laughing more to calm down enough to answer; so, at said point, her eyes were filled with tears of amusement and her make-up hadn’t been ruined by sheer power of will. “One may think I’d be used to this by now, but it’s hilarious nonetheless.”

“No need to worry, Fukuzawa-dono. It tends to be a common mistake.” Mori added, smiling in a way that caught him absolutely off guard.

“My apologies, still.”

“We’ve been thick as thieves since forever, we’ll give you that. But it’s not romantic, please. In fact…” Elise also smiled, partly as a remnant of her cackling and partly with a mischievous undertone. “Rintarô’s single.”

The uncomfortable feeling setting inside him while making the incorrect assumption not only dissipated the moment she said so, but also Fukuzawa’s chest got instantly struck by a warm and bubbly feeling.

(Also on ao3.)

[mauesartetc]

I've seen it stated in a comment on reddit that Blitzo "deserved what happened to him at Ozzie’s. He forced himself on M&M’s date and then went out of his way to draw attention to himself KNOWING fizz was there. The entire event was a result of his own actions. Hell, Stolas treated it as an actual date and at least tried to make an effort to be sweet."

They also said:

""I’d like an acknowledgment of Blitz being the one who was in the wrong and admitting it himself. Stolas may be an out of touch rich aristocrat yes, but Blitz was neglecting him and taking advantage from the start. Stolas arguably had no reason to suspect that objectifying blitz was a problem considering he never seemed bothered by it until Ozzy’s. I’d like to think the hospital scene is what is starting the process of Stolas finally realizing blitz can’t be helped until he helps up himself and deals with his issues."

And I'm like: wtf? Are you seriously making Stolas into the injured party despite all the cr*p he has done? Hes the one who has apologizing to do; for objectifying and fetishizing Blitzo all while looking down on imps.

The last part stinks of not wanting white/privileged people to take accountability for microaggressions based on the excuse of them being "innocent".

Sorry, I know this is wildly beside the point, but:

cr*p

Dude, this is Tumblr, not TikTok. You don't have to censor yourself here. You don't have to make every word you write commercially viable. It's okay. Be free, little bird! Spew expletives left and right if you feel so moved!

I want everyone to feel free to speak their minds on this blog, and if that includes a few naughty words, so be it. Besides, I'm pretty sure no one's getting in trouble at work for reading a post that contained the word "crap".

Anyway, to the more pressing issue at hand: It's important to recognize at all times that these are fictional characters, not real people. They are puppets whose actions are dictated by writers. Yes, giving characters the illusion of agency when writing stories is a great way to engage your audience, but when analyzing stories, you have to focus on why the people who wrote them made the choices they did. Debating which character was in the wrong, or which character was more wrong, or which one should apologize, yadda yadda yadda, is a futile fucking exercise if you don't include the writers' intent in that conversation.

Let's look at Blitzo. He pretty objectively caused most of what went down at Ozzie's. He followed Moxxie and Millie, he invited Stolas, he drew attention to himself when he knew people who hated him were present. Now that last one seems pretty stupid, like the kind of mistake no one of sound mind in the real world would ever reasonably make. We could spend all day speculating what about his personality would lead him to do this, whether it's zero sense of self-preservation, a subconscious desire for self-sabotage, or simple inability to keep his damn mouth shut, but here's the thing: Other Helluva Boss characters have the same problem. To reiterate what I said here:

"Why did Octavia fully forgive her dad, no questions asked, even when he couldn't explain why he cheated on her mom? If Loona hates being around Blitzo so much, why didn't she just stay with the succubi on the beach? [...] Why did Moxxie make a huge romantic gesture in an environment where such gestures are frowned upon? [...] Why did Stolas bring an imp to a couples-only club despite knowing it'd ruin his reputation?"

The answer to all these questions is "because the plot demanded it." The writers wanted a certain outcome and wrote themselves into a corner before they could reach it organically. Instead of putting themselves into the characters' shoes or retracing their steps to make the endpoint feel like a logical conclusion, they just said "fuck it" and brute-forced the easiest solution, causing the result to make no goddamn sense.

Given the level this writing is on, it feels kinda pointless to argue with internet strangers over which character was in the right and which one wasn't. Subsequent episodes haven't addressed the events of "Ozzie's" (at least not in a way that means anything), leading me to believe the writers never cared enough about them to spark any sort of in-depth conversation. So why should we?

Honestly, this person just sounds like a Stolas simp. It's kind of a leap to assume they don't want real people of a certain race and class to bear responsibility for their actions. It's not that deep. None of this is that deep.

[truearchangel]

[COMPANY][SETTLE] // Eve wanted to talk to Michael and it somehow ended up with them comforting him

@solmxri HURT. [ COMPANY ] for one muse to sit with the other so they don’t have to be alone while they’re upset. [ SETTLE ] for one muse to comfort the other and end up cuddling.

   MICHAEL DOESN’T LET HIMSELF express much emotion. He’s learned, early on, that doing so can lead to them being used against you or others perceiving you as weak. Whenever he ends up feeling too much he meditates or bottles it down until they’re nothing more than a buzzing background noise and he can go back to work. Because that’s how he processes things, by not processing it. By ignoring it until he can move on. By shutting it all own until his head is clear enough to focus on the problem at hand. 

   There is one instance where this apparently doesn’t work. 

   Lucifer is a difficult subject for Michael. So much pain and agonizing emotions were wrapped around his twin. They’re difficult to process as they’re difficult to swallow down, to understand that–well, his brother doesn’t have to and never will forgive him. The things that he did, the way that he hurt him, are not forgivable acts. No matter how much he would long for the chance to just sit and talk to him, even if words weren’t his specialty and would never come easily. 

   Lucifer is his weakness, the person that can get most easily under his skin, a topic that can wreck him in ways he never wants it to. Which had been what happened today. 

   Michael had been down in Hell again, studying the sinners and the Princess of Hell. Someone had made a comment, just a few cruel words thrown around. Things one can expect from someone to say who lives in Hell. They’re not words he hasn’t heard before, nothing he never thought of himself. But still to hear them outloud, to hear so many people agree, no matter what sort of acts Michael tries to present to the world he is still an angel. He’s a creature that feels, that experiences emotions, that can still be hurt. Even if he hates that. 

   Like a coward in response he had ran. Had fled the conversation and the entirety of Hell in general. Though he should have gone back to Heaven, should have shut himself in his office and worked until he couldn’t think about anything other than numbers and Heaven’s problems–he went to Earth. One long grocery shopping session later, he was apparently knocking on Adam and Eve’s door with a useless amount of food they would have absolutely no need for. 

   And like the angel they were and should have still continued to be, Eve simply blinked at them and allowed them inside the house. No questions, no strange looks, just a door held open and Michael invited inside like this was normal. It’s not, it’s only the third time he’s been here, Eve could have turned him away and he would have done what he should have. Gone up to Heaven and shut himself in his office. 

   Instead, with the door held open, he made his way inside with the groceries and dropped them gently onto the counter. Eve helped him put them away, left out what Michael wanted to work with, and then started to work their way through the ‘comfort food’ as humans called it. “The woman at the store told me to make lasagna.” More accurately, she took one look at him and said “you need lasagna”. He had no idea what that was until she started shoving ingredients into his arms.

   Thankfully, Eve knew what that was. 

   There’s no strange ingredients added into it this time, no odd choices chosen. He stuck behind Eve this time and let them dictate the recipe they were following. Surprisingly, with the both of them actually putting an effort in, what came out was correct and normal. Something actually edible that Adam wouldn’t run in fear of thinking Michael was attempting to poison him. The food actually looked good and the top was browned with a breadcrumb surface that was pleasing to the eyes. 

   Edible. 

   He poked the dish with the tip of the butterknife and gave a small hum at it. “I think we did alright. Your partner might actually eat it this time if we save him some. I’m never quite sure what he likes and doesn’t like but at least this turned out fine.” He felt better that something actually turned out well, but it was more the act of doing something with someone else that actually took off that top of that horrible burning feeling in his chest. That ache that threatened to consume him. 

   “Do you want to get a few conta–” a set of arms wrapped around his waist and despite all attempts, Michael felt himself stiffen in response. He has siblings, he’s used to being grabbed, hugged, yanked on at any point doing the day. Angels were incredibly affectionate and touchy people, he can’t go a second in the same room with one of his siblings without them hanging off of him. But expecting it from them and getting it from Eve of all people is very different honestly. 

   It’s not a bad feeling either. In fact, it feels rather nice to have. Those arms wrapped around his waist, that gentle touch that was trying to provide some sort of comfort. The weight of the fallen angel against his back. The longer that Eve hangs on the easier it is to release the stiffness to his posture, his shoulders easing a bit and a tense breath slips from Michael’s lips. No, it’s really not that horrible at all. He would even day admit he was enjoying the comfort offered to him. 

   After an aching moment he finally turned around in the other’s old and leaned forward, resting his forehead down against Eve’s chest and just taking a moment to absorb the reassurance that was being offered to him. 

   Everything was fine. 

   It was going to be fine. It had to be fine. 

   It’s been fine for countless millennia, what difference does one more day make? He just has to keep going the same. Keep pushing through. Nothing was going to change, nothing was meant to change. That was the way that Heaven was designed, the way they wanted their Heavenly Order to be. The way that angels are meant to follow the threads of fate. Lucifer was doomed to eternal damnation, and Michael was meant to continue to uphold the Word of God. Two separate fates down two different burning paths. He will never get his brother back, and he had known that the day he threw him from Heaven. 

   Why is that hurting so much today though? 

   “I’m fine.” It’s a lie, but he doesn’t get a choice but to be.

[dragonbma]

I feel bad for waiting so long to add to these scriptscratches again so I’m just going to infodump on all four topics right now: (Vos Possession AU additions)

Moving into the Emporium:

During episodes one & two: Vos isn’t in control of himself when he enters Beacontown for the first time after returning from the Sea Temple. Romeo is ecstatic to explore this new location through Vos’ eyes, but doesn’t talk to too many residents. Instead, knowing that the Colossus is on its way, ‘Vos’ opts to take a nap in the emporium since Jack offered him a room. Vos doesn’t argue with Romeo on this one because it’s been a decade since he’s had a good rest and promptly passes out on the floor before Jack can bring him a sleeping bag. (Also, although Vos can hear Romeo’s thoughts too, he has no idea the Colossus is approaching.) Romeo splits from Vos to focus all his energy into being the Colossus. Later after a part of the shop gets wrecked, Vos wakes up in a panic and realizes he is in control of himself. Rushing out of the emporium mid-fight, he sees Jesse, Petra, Lukas, and Jack fighting the Colossus. Romeo is has to re-possess him before he can make it to Jack so he doesn’t ruin anything.

Post- episode five: Vos lives in the attic of the emporium and he and Jack have friendship lanterns. They like to activate the lanterns at the randomest points at night to wake the other one up. (more on that below)

Romeo’s Reparations:

Unlike in game where Petra argues to leave Romeo in the Terminal Zone, she instead is the more sympathetic one. Jack in turn wants to leave him there, abandoning Romeo as Romeo once abandoned so many. He didn’t get to see the cabin or the journal that Jesse and Petra found; all he knows is Romeo’s crimes against the previous admins, the people of the Underneath, and especially his friends. Because of this, Petra has to convince Jack to give him a second chance when they all return to Beacontown. Vos has mixed feelings. He wants to forgive Romeo, but is pretty wary after everything he went through so he opts to avoid the ex-admin whenever possible. (He sometimes freezes up in panic when Romeo is around.)

Jack asks Romeo about what became of the Sea Temple, but Romeo assures him that with his admin powers removed, the temple would be dormant and the entities within/around would vanish. Jack doesn’t seem convinced so Romeo offers to go himself to check. His theory was correct. The temple is essentially dead save for one peculiar oddity…

When Romeo returns from the temple, he has a gift: two linked sea lanterns. They remain dim until one is touched and both light up. (Like how friendship lanterns work.) “How is that even possible?” “Not sure really… I found them in the rubble. I figured I’d bring one back in case you wanted it, but when I picked it up, the other one lit up too. My guess is they must still be linked from being a part of the puzzle door.” (Since the door would only open if mirrored, each block got enchanted with its mirrored block to recognize the other. Does this make sense? Idk.) Jack finds this sufficient to mostly forgive Romeo and gives him props for working to make amends. ^ This scene is also fun because Jack had the initial conversation with Romeo without Vos’ knowledge as not to make his friend anxious. So when Romeo knocks on the emporium doors to deliver the lanterns, Vos accidentally opens the door and just stares for a minute before asking Nurm to get Jack. Jack of course explains the whole thing and Vos ends up forgiving Romeo, even giving him a hug.

Romeo patches a few things up in Beacontown before heading to the Underneath to try and make amends with Xara. (The people of the Underneath now live on the surface, but Xara stayed behind.)

Character Interactions:

Vos is socially anxious after having no one but himself to talk to for a decade. (During the first trip to Beacontown, Romeo hides this very well with his eager demeanor. Vos is honestly somewhat relieved to not be the one conversating.) Jack is quick to notice this and does his best to help his friend meet the residents of Beacontown. The people of Bad Luck Alley would probably find Vos interesting since he was an old friend of Jack.

Ivor is the first resident Jack introduces Vos to. After the events of season two, Jack is eager to show Vos around town and jumps at the chance to have his friend meet his idol. (Especially since Ivor settles back down in Beacontown after being a ninja.) The two are quick friends and Ivor is happy there is another alchemist in town. He also gets to explain to Vos what the Witherstorm was so that’s fun. Can’t imagine how that conversation would go. Turns out the two actually have a lot in common. (Plus, they both look old enough to remember Nether reactor cores /j)

For some reason, I feel like Nell tends to notice new arrivals in Beacontown and helps to assure them that the place is a chill area. She probably confides in Vos that she felt overwhelmed when first moving to Beacontown too, and offers to show him around. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?” The two likely have an interesting conversation after everything is over with and repairs are being made to the town.

What if Radar mentions how Jesse helped with Stampy and Stacy’s dessert booth and ‘Vos’ perks up? After eating nothing but pork chops for years, he is eager to have anything else so Jack buys him a whole cake which he attempts to eat in one sitting. /j unless…

Lluna! I already had a whole post dedicated to her so here’s that! Still haven’t decided what the adventure would be though…

New Adventures:

With his old friend back in his life, Jack is once again inspired to go adventuring again. He and Nurm usually just went exploring to map new locations and it’s been a while since he went on a real adventure. Petra still wants to take a break from Beacontown and find her life on the road so they head off together. Jack is eager to share some of his favorite locations. Jack asks Vos and Nurm to join to which Vos happily joins and Nurm instead stays behind to tend to the shop and Archie. (They return after a week or two for reasons to be added.)

Possible adventuring locations during their trip: swamp (I have a fun idea in mind with this one), woodland mansion, maybe a place Petra mentions from the displays in the emporium-

I can’t wait for them to find a pillager outpost. Jack and Petra go to take out the guards while Vos snoops around… and stumbles upon an allay locked up nearby. Seeing himself in the new mob, he frees it from the cage immediately. Not realizing how they work, he gives it a torch and just assumes it’s following him because he saved it. Vos names the allay “Callou” because obvious pun. Now whenever the trio hear about outposts, they make it a game to disrupt them. Jack and Petra take turns baiting the guards (like walking up and striking up conversations or just outright teasing the pillagers) while the other hides nearby to take them out. Vos checks for any allays or golems nearby and rescues them.

Lush cave. Lush cave. Lush cave. What more do I have to say?

(If you all have any Qs or just want me to elaborate on anything, feel free to ask!)

[just-dreaming-marvel]

The Truth About Love ~ 15

THE TRUTH ABOUT LOVE MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,635ish

Summary: You and Steve work on your relationship at the pace you need.

Notes: I changed this chapter up a little bit compared to my original plan since I’ve been so scared of disappointing my readers and some of the most vocal of ones seem to really want the sexy fluff to ensue... I hope that it’s alright. I’m really second-guessing everything right now with this series. There is no sex or smut though.

Steve woke up and immediately remembered where he was. Your arms were wrapped around him, with one of your legs pushed in between his. You hadn’t had an easy night and so he didn’t dare move in fear of waking you. He wanted you to sleep as long as you were able. You deserved this break, this moment of peace. Looking down at you, Steve felt like he stopped breathing. Even as you slept, tucked in so close to him, you were the most beautiful person in the world.

“Why the hell do I keep screwing up?” Steve muttered to himself as he gently trailed a finger down your face. He stopped when you moaned and moved closer to him.

Your eyes blinked open, taking their time to focus and look up at him. “Hi,” you breathed out.

“Hi,” he repeated softly. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Steve.”

“How did you sleep?”

“Better… thank you for staying with me.”

“Of course.”

An easy silence fell between the two of you. Neither of you bothered to move away from the other. As you studied Steve, you came to the conclusion that if he continued on like this, it would be very easy to forgive him. You could feel yourself slowly starting to anyway.

“We should probably go downstairs,” Steve whispered, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Yeah, okay,” you responded quietly.

~~~

You and Steve went downstairs, holding hands. Ma was already awake and in the kitchen finishing up breakfast.

“Good morning,” she excitedly greeted. “I hope you two slept well.”

“Morning, Ma,” Steve smiled, letting go of your hand to go over and kiss his mother’s cheek. He glanced around. “Where’s Tony?”

Sarah sighed. “He left about an hour ago. Something about a problem at work.”

“What problem could possibly be happening at the company right now?”

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter. At least I still have you two here.”

~~~

Steve had been careful not to get you anything for Christmas. His last presents were a little bit over the top and pushed you away, so he was too scared to give you anything. You didn’t have anything for him either though, only a simple plant for Sarah which she said that she loved. Sarah got you a gift of a homemade quilt. It was so beautiful, you were in complete awe of it.

You and Steve stayed with Sarah until after dinner, playing games, eating, talking, and really just enjoying each other’s company. It was nice to spend Christmas with them, it helped keep your mind off your mother.

When you and Steve arrived back at the apartment complex, you walked up to your doors holding hands. The two of you stopped in front of the doors and faced each other.

“Thank you for inviting me, Steve,” you said. “It truly meant a lot to me and I had a good time.”

“I’m glad,” Steve answered. “I know that Ma enjoyed having you there.”

“Just your Ma?”

Steve chuckled lightly. “I enjoyed it too… Do you, uh, when is your next day off?”

“Next Sunday.”

“Do you… Gosh, I’m so nervous,” the two of you laughed.

“I’d love to do something together, Steve.”

“Good,” his smile grew. “Okay.”

“I guess I’ll see you then?”

“I don’t know if I can stay away from you that long, sweetheart.” 

You looked away, feeling your face heat up. Steve stepped closer to you. He really wanted to kiss you, it had been too long and he missed the way your lips felt against his. But, he knew that he needed to wait until you were ready. So instead, Steve kissed the top of your head.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he whispered against your head. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Steve.”

~~~

Steve couldn’t even make it a day without seeing you. He no longer had your schedule memorized, so he had gone to the cafe to see if you were there only to find out that you were working at the diner. He made it to the diner and sat himself down at a booth, getting out his sketchbook. You came out with a tray of food for customers and were surprised to see him setting in a booth. You really didn’t have much time to talk, but you made sure that he was given coffee and a piece of apple pie.

Steve continued to show up at your places of work, never bothering you. He would quietly work in his sketchbook and only talk when you started the conversation. You appreciated how slow he was going with you, how it was doing everything on your turns.

When Sunday rolled around, Steve texted you to tell you that he’d pick you up around 5 in the evening. The day dragged on for you. You were interested in knowing that Steve had planned, but you weren’t going to push him for information. You were sitting on the couch, trying not to eagerly wait for Steve, when there was a knock on the door. Taking a deep inhale, you stood up and went over to open the door.

Steve was standing on the other side, rocking slightly on his heels. He smiled when his eyes met yours.

“Hi,” he said. “You ready?”

“I guess,” you responded. “I don’t know what exactly to be ready for.”

Steve laughed. “Don’t worry, you look perfect.” 

He held out his hand. You took it as you shut the door and locked it. Steve led you out of the building and into his truck before driving you to his studio. You were content with the quiet as you went up to his studio, as long as you got to keep holding his hand. When the elevator door opened, you gasped. The studio was lit by the lights from outside and the burning candles that were everywhere. In the center of the room, was a blanket with a basket of food on it.

“I thought we could go on a picnic,” Steve said. 

“I love it,” you replied. “It’s so beautiful.”

“I’m glad. Come on.”

Steve guided you to the blanket and pulled you down to sit beside him. The two of you passed out the food and chatted while you ate. It was a nice and normal date, that helped you realize how much Steve truly cared. Though he went about things the wrong way and slipped up, he did care. 

Steve caught you staring at him. “What?” He questioned. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No,” you smiled, shaking your head.

“Then what is it?”

“I just… I just…” you sighed. “You mean a lot to me, Steve.”

He moved so that he was kneeling in front of you and took your hands in his. “You mean a lot to me too. More than I think you’ll ever know.” His face moved closer to yours, lips hovering over your own.

“Steve…”

The sound of your whispered plea sent him smashing his lips with yours. His hands let go of yours, allowing him to pull you closer to him. Your arms wrapped around his back, wanting to be as close to Steve as possible. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, easily dominating you. You barely pulled away, needing some air and to tell Steve something.

“I’m sorry,” he quickly told you, thinking he had done something wrong again.

“Oh, Steve,” you smiled at him, making sure to meet his gaze. “I… I forgive you.” You good see the hope glimmer in his eyes. “I know that we still have a lot to work through. But I want you to know that I want to. I want to work through everything with you as long as you’ll let me.”

One of his hands moved to cup your cheek as he smiled so happily at you. “You are my everything, sweetheart. Forever and always.”

You were the one to go in for the kiss this time. Neither of you felt like you could get close enough to each, grasping onto the other to feel the other’s heart next to their own.

“Steve,” you moaned into his mouth.

“We… can… slow… down,” Steve told you between kisses, fighting the urge to kiss everywhere but your lips.

“No, it’s fine… just…” You pulled back slightly. “Do you have a condom?”

Steve nodded. He stood up and walked over to his desk. Your body was screaming, already missing being so close to him. You watched as he opened a drawer and pulled out some protection. As he walked back, he made sure to make eye contact with you.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked as he knelt back down in front of you. “We don’t have to do this.”

You sighed, feeling a mixture of emotions. “I am a little nervous but—“

“Then we’ll stop. This can wait.”

“Steve,” you took hold of his hands, “I’m only nervous because I’ve never been this intimate with someone before.”

“Oh, OH… Are you sure you want to do this with me?”

“You’re the only one I want to do this with… I just…” You looked down, embarrassed, suddenly becoming overwhelmed with your nervous emotions.

“Hey.” Steve hooked a finger under your chin and guided your head up so that you were looking at him. “If you aren’t ready for this, that is okay. I’m in no rush and I want you to be completely confident and safe with me.”

You sighed. “I’m sorry… I know… Gosh, I’m being so confusing. I’m so sorry.”

Steve shook his head. “Don’t be… we’ll wait for whenever you’re ready, however long it takes.” He kissed your head. “I’m okay with laying here and watching a movie.”

“Thank you.” You pressed a light kiss to his lips. “I really appreciate it.”

“Anything and everything for you, sweetheart.”

next chapter >

TAGLIST IS CLOSED - Taglist Information

[zoeysdamn]

There shall be night - Part.12 Morpheus x priestess! reader

[Part.11]

Time seemed to have slowed down to the point it had completely stopped. Maybe it had somehow. When (Y/N) came back to her senses, emerging from the numbness, she didn’t have the slightest idea of how much time had passed. Stumbling with no real direction in mind the priestess wasn’t even really aware of her surroundings. The outlines of the inside of her house were something she vaguely registered, but her brain didn’t account for it. 

Her body acted on its own, moving around the house like an empty shell and when she finally sat down, it felt like the weight of the world was put on her shoulders. The silence became almost deafening in her ears but she didn’t move. Her clenched hands didn’t lose their grip altogether, so much her knuckles were raw white. 

Slowly opening her palms, the priestess revealed the small skull she was cradling in them. While she rubbed her thumbs on the white faces softly, her mind started to pick up bits of what had happened. Little by little, she remembered glimpses; her whimpering in Morpheus’ arms, the way he cradled her like he always did; the soft caress of his lips on her forehead, then of his sand around her frame; his deep voice assuring that he would fix things; that she needed to go back home and rest; the distant feeling of his lingering touch on her hands while the sand carried her away, back to her home. Her own body had walked on its own while her mind was blank. It was a strange feeling, to feel this far away from her own body. 

The priestess sniffled even if her tears had dried out long ago. She didn’t know how much time had passed since she left the hotel with her heart full of grief and pain. The weight of her sorrow had made her forget everything else. She couldn’t focus on anything; not on the killers at the convention, not on Rose Walker and the vortex, not on anything. Maybe the Dreaming was disappearing, but she couldn’t even feel it. The grief just made her so numb.

She didn’t know how long she stayed here, sitting down and haggard eyes veiling over the small skull. Maybe hours, a day perhaps. Only when a deep rumble echoed in the room did she feel something else than numbness and pain. 

“My love” 

Her head slowly rose up, taking in the tall and dark frame of the Dream Lord with tired eyes. 

“Morpheus” she whispered. 

The way her voice sounded so broken made his heart squeeze in pain. Slowly making his way toward her, gaze never leaving her own, he lowered himself in front of the priestess. His hands went to take hers, but (Y/N) had an instinctive movement to tug the skull closer to her defensively. Noticing her scared move, he retracted slowly and put his hands on her knees instead. He knew how much physical contact calmed her. How his touch soothed her. 

“I’m sorry for your loss” said the Dream Lord softly. 

The priestess could only nod slowly in thanks. She was afraid that if she tried to speak, she'd cry again. And even though Morpheus was technically the one that had unmade the Corinthian, she was relieved he was here. 

“You lost him too” she finally muttered in a broken voice, looking at him intensely. 

Morpheus nodded his head, eyes still covering her with reassurance “But he was not bound to me as he was to you. I’m sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you today, my love” 

She let one of her hands loosen her grip and put it on his own, a kind look behind her watery lashes. 

“We need to stop looking for who’s guilty in all of this,” she said in a soft voice, even if a little trembling with emotion. “What’s done…is done. No matter how deep it hurts” 

Morpheus could only stare at her with deep admiration and awe. Even at her lowest point, just having lost the one she had considered as a son for centuries, she still held so much wisdom and kindness. She was a beacon; of hope, and of forgiveness even when everything seemed doomed. 

“I love you” he muttered with a voice sounding almost disbelieved. Yet he hadn’t been more sure of anything else in his life. “You’re so much better than anyone else in this realm, and every other”

Bending his face down, he kissed her hands gently. His lips pressed on her skin with tenderness like he was trying to pour all of his affection for her in this embrace. 

“I’m only a woman who loves very much, and very deeply,” she answered gently, nuzzling her face in his hair. “The dreamers, the ill ones…the dreams and the nightmares, Beatrice…Corinthian, you…I’ve always held love, for every single one of them. Different loves for sure, but deep, and grounding emotions. That is how,” she carried on, cradling Morpheus’ face up to reveal his cerulean blue eyes “I’ve been able to carry on during all those years even through the darkest times. And how I will overcome this grief, eventually” 

The slow caress on his cheeks didn’t dull the wave of evergrowing adoration the Dream Lord has for her. She was so strong. 

With slow movements, (Y/N) tugged her hands away and carefully laid the skull on a nearby table, caressing its outlines tenderly. Tugging her in his arms carefully, Morpheus guided her up without a word. He walked them both to her room where he laid them gently on her bed, never breaking their embrace. Cradling her close to his chest, the Dream Lord run his fingers through (Y/N)’s hair in a gentle manner. He had rejected her help then, when he was facing his own grief; but he wouldn’t repeat his mistakes now, and would help her in any way possible, even if it meant to just be by her side. 

That night, neither the priestess or the Endless went back to the Dreaming. For the dreamers it was a quiet evening but inside of the small home near the last standing temple dedicated to the Dream Lord, soft sobs and quiet soothing sounds could be heard. Two lovers entangled together in a mutual grief, taking in each other’s presence to heal their wounds and being, just for this night, only what they were for their other half. Not a Dream Lord, not a priestess. That night, it was just them together, because they needed it. 

Following the events of the vortex’s destruction, things hadn’t changed much in the realm of dreams and nightmares. Several weeks had passed since the whole affair with Rose Walker, Unity Kinkaid and the resolution of the vortex issue. As she wasn’t there during the tense confrontation between the Dream Lord and the vortex, Morpheus had told (Y/N) of the outcomes of the issue. From the courageous choice of Rose to sacrifice herself to save both the Waking world and the Dreaming, to Unity Kinkaid’s miraculous interference, the role she was supposed to carry, and eventually the passing of the older woman. Even if she was deeply relieved by knowing both worlds and the young Rose were safe, the priestess felt sad for Unity Kinkaid. (Y/N) had searched her book and read about Unity’s peculiar life. The poor woman had not had enough time to enjoy life, yet she hadn’t hesitated a second to give her life to save not one, but two worlds. The priestess felt deeply sorry and in high admiration for her. In her temple in the Waking world, she had erected a small altar in her memory. 

“Does Rose Walker know of this altar?” asked Lucienne once. 

“I don’t think so” answered the priestess while helping the librarian tidy up the shelves of books. “I’m not even sure she knows there is a temple still standing. And maybe now isn’t the best time to come to her with such information” she added in a thoughtful tone. 

“She’s safe now, my lady” reassured the librarian with a kind tone “I’m sure she’d be honoured to see such a memorial gesture to her ancestor”

(Y/N) hummed quietly “Maybe you’re right. I might go to meet her in person one day rather than in her dreams, when she’ll be comfortable enough facing anyone related to the realm again”

As Lucienne gave a small nod of approval, (Y/N) felt the familiar tug of Morpheus’ presence in her mind. Their bond was stronger in the Dreaming, especially since she spent almost all of her time within the realm. Excusing herself to the librarian, she exited the library to set her pace to the lush green fields of Fiddler’s green. This creation of Morpheus was back to the Dreaming, to most of its inhabitant's delight. The priestess had never met him in his human form, but she was glad he was back without consequences for his leave in the Waking world. The rich flora he created was a sight for sore eyes and it finally seemed that the realm was back to its former glory.

Reaching the heart of the Dreaming after a few minutes of walking, (Y/N) saw the tall figure of Morpheus among the verdant fields. Warmth spread through her body at the sight of him, even more when he turned in her direction and a soft smile broke on his face. 

“My heart” she greeted him when she reached his side, taking one of his hands to press a soft kiss on its back. 

Dropping an equally tender kiss on her forehead, the King of Dreams and Nightmares closed his eyes, taking in her scent, touch and presence like the most soothing feeling he ever knew. 

“My love,” he said in his deep comforting voice “How are you feeling?” 

She raised her head up to give him a reassuring smile “Good. Better every day”

The Endless frowned a little but her bright smile eased his worry slightly. Since the vortex ordeal and the cereal convention, (Y/N) had barely gone back to the Waking world. At first, Dream had been afraid that she wouldn’t want to ever go to his realm again, thinking that it might be full of a painful reminder of the Corinthian’s absence. Even if his priestess knew that he had to unmade the nightmare for the greater good, her time of grief was legitimate and not to be rushed. But if his worries had happened to be true the first day, she proved him wrong every single following one. (Y/N) needed his presence and his comfort to overcome this difficult time, and she had wished to stay in the Dreaming for this time being. Although surprised, Morpheus didn’t object to it in the slightest. Of course, he knew he needed to be with her, to help her and offer support, he would even have stayed in the Waking world with her, should she have asked him to. But she never ceased to amaze him. 

Turns out that the familiar realm was much easier for her to be in, rather than the Waking world that reminded her too much of her son’s absence. Like every door could open and reveal his cocky face any second, or that he would appear out of nowhere and teasingly call her mother, enquiring about her wellbeing under his snarky comments. Being at her home, or at the temple, the two places where he always knew he could find her, was still too painful. Maybe she needed more time and for now, the Dreaming and Morpheus’ arms were the perfect healing place. 

“I’ve missed you this morning” she confessed as Morpheus offered her his arm and they started to wander through the fields. 

“Apologises my love,” he said in a sorry voice, though he knew there was no scolding in her words, “I needed to pay a visit to one of my siblings” 

“Which one of them?” she asked out of curiosity. 

“Desire”

Her heart dropped in her chest, and a lump started to grow in her throat. (Y/N)’s last and only encounter with the Endless hadn’t been the most pleasant one. Sensing her anxiety building up, Morpheus squeezed her hand that was on his arm in reassurance. 

“Things needed to be sorted out concerning their participation in the vortex’s matter” he explained to ease his lover’s mind. 

“What did they say about it?” she asked, knowing about Unity Kinkaid’s revelations about her miracle baby and Morpheus’ suspicion about his sibling plotting. 

“Not much” grumbled the Dream Lord “But I made sure to warn them if they ever try to plot against me again”

“Do you think they’ll risk defying you again? They’re your family after all” said the priestess in a concerned tone. 

He huffed “None of them lifted a finger when I was imprisoned. Besides, Desire had already pushed their luck too far by tricking you, my love”

(Y/N) ducked her head down for a second, somehow a little ashamed by this mention. They had never talked again of her powers, nor had she used them for a long time. But the subject was always nagging at the back of her mind. 

Noticing her discomfort, Morpheus softened his tone. 

“I’ve asked them about your powers” he said, surprising her as she looked up at him. 

“What of it?” said the priestess with a tint of hope in her voice. 

At the sight of the Dream Lord’s sorry expression, she already knew the answer. 

“They can’t take it back, I’m afraid”

“Oh” she whispered, not exactly knowing if it was out of relief or deception. 

The dream lord stopped walking to face his lover, grabbing both of her hands in his own and sinking his gaze on hers. 

“Are you disappointed?” he asked. 

“I- I’m not sure, to be honest” she admitted while rubbing her thumb over his hands in soothing patterns – more for herself than for him. “I don’t know much about it, sure it scared me plenty of times but…” she trailed, recalling the dream she had created on her own. Despite the gruelling ending, it had started oh so lovely. “I can’t resign myself to think this can only create chaos and pain”

Morpheus hummed quietly, leaning into her touch “Desire had no intention of ever taking this power back, so it seems they hadn’t created it to be removed. It has thrived with your own desires, they couldn’t dissociate it from you, my love”

“Could you?” she asked with uncertainty. 

“...in theory, I suppose I could” answered the King of Dreams after a long second of thought. “It seems that your power had evolved along with your abilities related to the Dreaming…maybe I could separate them, should you want it” 

The priestess nodded, pondering her options. On one hand she’d be relieved of a terrifying yet powerful thing, but on the other she didn’t know what the process could do to her older abilities she used to help the dreamers. 

“You don’t have to give it up, you know” said Morpheus softly, cradling her cheek with his hand. 

(Y/N)’s eyebrows rose up slightly in surprise. 

“We could figure out how to control it” continued the dream Lord “Not in seek of power, but to ensure you feel safe enough with that” 

She blinked away a tear that threatened to escape her eyelash “Do you trust me with those powers?” she asked in a voice softened by a mix of amazement and disbelief. 

He kissed her forehead gently “I do. I always trusted you, and I always will”

The priestess smiled brightly and bringing his face down to hers with a hand, pressed her lips on his in the softest kiss. When they parted, she let her forehead lay against his for a moment. 

“Thank you” she breathed against his face, eyes closed “Thank you for trusting me and giving me time”

“Anything, my love” he reassured in the same tone, gently nudging his nose against her own. 

Cradling his face with both of her hands and slightly pulling away to admire his sharp features and loving face, (Y/N) smiled softly at him. 

“You’re a good man Morpheus” she said in her softest voice “I love you so much”

The King of Dreams didn’t answer but his bright smile did. She had rarely seen him smile like that before, and knew it was worth every love confession. Deposing a quick and gentle kiss on the corner of his lips, she then let go of his face and slid her hand into one of his, ready to continue their walk. With this weight lifted from her shoulders and heart she looked so radiant. 

But as (Y/N) began to make her way to lead them to a nearby path leading to the castle, Morpheus slightly tugged at her hand. Swinging her head back to him, her eyebrows slightly knitted in confusion when she took notice of her lover’s unmoving stance. 

“What is it, my heart?” she asked softly, bringing herself closer to him once more. 

The affectionate nickname made something flutter in his chest. How he loved the way she called him that way. 

“If you allow me to voice my opinion on that matter, my love…” he started with his deep voice while his eyes were gazing at the horizon and not at her, like he was hesitant to speak. 

“Of course” she reassured promptly, covering the hand that was already holding her other one “You can tell me anything, Morpheus”

Finally, the dream Lord looked up at his lover, his deep blue eyes meeting her concerned ones. Then, after a moment: 

“I’d like you to keep your powers, if you feel safe with them”

That definitely surprised the priestess “Why?”

Another beat passed, where the look on Dream’s face almost looked apologetic. Or nostalgic, she wasn’t so sure. 

“I saw your dream” he finally admitted. 

(Y/N)’s mouthed slowly shaped into an ‘O’ of surprise. 

“How…?” she asked in a disbelieved voice. Yet, she was somehow relieved he experienced her dream. All of it. 

“The night you told me about this dream…vision you had, I…opened myself to share your dream” he explained slowly. 

“But…I thought you didn’t find me in the Dreaming?” 

He nodded “And I didn’t. I had to push myself into this dream of yours, I couldn’t walk into it like I usually can. Because you created it, not me”

The priestess slowly nodded her head too “I see…”

A silence took place between the two of them. She wasn’t sure how to react, knowing Morpheus had seen everything, yet hadn’t uttered a word about it. But then, the dream Lord took another step to her, their chest grazing and his gaze comforting. Almost pleading. 

“I saw your dream, my love” he said softly “It was a beautiful one”

Once again, her eyes became teary but out of joy “Yes it was” she breathed out. 

Cradling up the hand he was holding, Morpheus pressed a soft kiss on the inside of her wrist, before looking at her again with infinite tenderness. 

“You have created something beautiful, thanks to your powers. And I truly think that with both of our abilities…we could make it real” 

A soft gasp escaped her lips as her eyes widened in surprise. The priestess didn’t even try to stop her joyful tears anymore, as she stared at him in awe. 

“Do you think it’d be possible?” she whispered, and her other hand came unconsciously to press on her belly. 

The Endless couldn’t stop smiling softly at her gleeful joy “I do. Biological rules do not work the same way here as in the Waking” he said with a soft tone. “You’ve created a whole dream in the Waking world, my love. I can’t imagine what we could do together in the Dreaming” 

Her eyes full of stars had nothing to envy the brightest night sky. Yet, after a few seconds of radiant hope and joy, a veil of concern came through her face. 

“...do you want a child, Morpheus?” she asked softly with her characteristic gentle selfless concern, that made his heart swell every time. “Are you ready to be a father again?” A glimpse of sadness passed in his eyes, even though he wanted to be reassuring. His son’s passing had been over two millennia ago and he was by no means the perfect model of grieving a lost child. But this was something else. He had made mistakes, and yes, there were still things unsaid with Calliope concerning Orpheus’ death. (Y/N)’s concern about him and his desire to be a father again were legitimate and touching, and he loved her more than anything for that. And for this exact reason, he knew that she would be the one he could dream of a future family with.

“I do” he whispered in an assured voice “With you. Because I have dreamed of this child every night since I saw your vision. And there is nothing I wouldn’t do to hold both of you in my arms in my waking hours, if you allow me to”

He barely finished his sentence when a pair of lips crashed against his own with burning passion. Chuckling in their kiss, Morpheus draped his arms around her, holding her tightly against him. Tears melted into the kiss, but none of them cared. When she parted, the priestess clinged on his arms for her dear life. 

“Thank you Morpheus” she whispered against his lips. 

He pressed another kiss to her forehead, as the skies of the Dreaming started to tint into the soft warm hues of the setting sun. It would probably take time; but they had plenty to heal, rebuild themselves and face the future. Side by side.

A swirl of sand grazed the stone wall of one of Athens’ old buildings in the middle of the night. No one noticed the woman cladded in a dark blue dress stepping out of the dead end alley, except maybe for the yellow eyes of a stray cat, following her graceful and silent movement as she walked away, pace set on a very specific goal. 

She walked down the street like a shadow, an unnoticed presence in the well-known streets. Things had changed over the years, but she knew where she was going; (Y/N) simply couldn’t forget the streets she grew up with. 

Reaching one of the town’s oldest cemeteries, she pushed the gates open and slipped inside the area, heading toward a small stone vault. The previously laid flowers were long dried, but this time (Y/N) didn’t push them away. Instead, she gathered the small cream-colored urn kept in the vault with utmost precaution, careful to not let it fall. Cradling the object like her most precious possession, (Y/N) let her fingers run across the carved stone fondly. She had specifically asked for this carving, providing the sculptor with a rough yet very precise sketch she had made herself. The man had seemed surprised for a second then had shrugged away, agreeing to sculpt a small view of an ancient Greek temple for one’s vault pediment. But it had meant a lot to (Y/N), when she asked for this commission almost two centuries ago. She remembered the first temple in every detail, and wanted the image to be honoured. Sadly, she couldn’t take the heavy carved stone with her today. 

“It’s time to go, grandmother” she whispered to herself as she stood up. A few seconds later, the cemetary was empty again, a gust of wind swaying away the last remnants of foreign sand. 

The new room inside the Dreaming’s palace was the place where (Y/N) reappeared, carried by the sand. A small curved wall contained several chapels, large enough to take small objects. Another urn, carved in stone, was already set in one. Lighting the candles with a flicker of her wrists, (Y/N) took sight of the room with deep emotion. She had hidden the ashes of her Grandmother for centuries, but always kept a track of its location. From time to time, she had placed them in cemetaries, and moved if they had been there too long. Despite being centuries old, she still cherished her loved one’s memories. And finally, she could reunite them in the same place to let them rest where they belonged. 

Crossing the room, (Y/N) delicately put the urn beside the one containing Beatrice’s ashes. Among all of the other priestesses, friends and lovers, she was the only one that (Y/N) had also kept close to her, even in the afterlife. 

“I’m glad you can finally rest where you both belong” she said in a hushed tone, like a prayer. “You devoted your lives to the Dreaming, and now you can rest here. As the devoted and brilliant women you both have been” 

Her gaze travelled fondly over a third chapel, where Jessamy’s skull lay on a black velvet cushion. 

“I’m also here the life I shared with you” she continued, somehow sounding ashamed when there was nothing but gratitude in her. “I’ve lived centuries as a devoted priestess of the Dream Lord, and I wouldn’t trade any of those years by yours or our sister’s side for anything”

Ducking her head in memories of the lost priestesses, she let the emotion sink in her for a moment. Then a silver glimpse on her hand reminded her of her presence here and a fond smile painted her face. 

“My time as a priestess had come to an end. But,” she continued as she slid her right thumb absently over the outlines of a ring adorning the finger on her left hand, “my mission is not forsaken. It’ll never be, and as long as I’ll live, I’ll carry on my duties to the dreamers and to this beloved realm”

This mausoleum had been her idea. As she had completely abandoned her human life and condition, welcoming the Dreaming as her home, she wanted to recreate a temple of her own. The one she had built in England was still here, of course, and should someone come to the place to seek help, she would come. But in the realm, she wanted to honour the fallen devotees. Her family, and her friends. Because as sure as there shall be night, they needed the respect they had inspired her through their lives. 

She bowed her head at her long-lost friends one last time, before exiting the room and casually walking through the palace’s corridors. Her steps quickly led her outside, on the black sand-filled field without her thinking about it. She knew her steps would always lead her to him. 

The back of the Dream Lord and his librarian faced her as sand twirled, materialising a new form in front of them. A nebulous, radiant feminine form with delicate wings and skin like a vibrant galaxy slowly opened her eyes. Gault was now a dream. 

“Thank you my King” she said, bowing to the Endless. 

Dream nodded back to her in a gesture of respect, as (Y/N) reached his side. Noticing her presence, the newborn dream bowed deeply to her. 

“My Queen” she greeted her. 

(Y/N) smiled brightly at her, while in the corner of her eye she didn’t miss Morpheus’ slight smirk out of pride in hearing those words.

“You look radiant Gault” she said to her, while the dream admired her wings. 

“I feel like it” she said in a mesmerised voice. Then, with a flick of her wings, she rose high in the Dreaming’s skies, delighted in her newfound form and freedom. 

On the ground, the three figures smiled brightly at the new dream. Her joy was infectious and it sure looked like a true dream. Shaking her head but not dropping her smile, Lucienne cleared her throat slightly and looked at the two other inanimate forms in front of her king. 

“Are you planning on creating new dreams and nightmares, my lord?” she asked politely. 

Returning his attention to the unfinished creation, Dream hummed pensively. 

“I just might” he said in a knowing tone, sharing a gentle look with (Y/N). “New dreams…new nightmares…”

With delicacy he took (Y/N)’s hand in his own, fondly caressing her ring. Silver embroidering the light-capturing faces of the ruby adorning it. His ruby. On this delicate hand. Not the one of his devotees, of his lover or of his priestess. Of his wife’s. 

Lucienne witnessed the soft exchange of his king and his new queen with gentle eyes. They had held no ceremony, just a private exchange of their vows in Fiddler’s Green most secluded clearing. But all of the Dreaming had celebrated the arrival of a Queen, especially since she was the long-known presence most of the inhabitants had come to cherish. As for her personal opinion on the matter, Lucienne wasn’t quite surprised by this turn of events. (Y/N) would make an excellent queen to this realm, as for her kind heart and spiritual nature. But the king of dreams and nightmares and his wife needed their privacy, so a private wedding was not surprising. Their love and affection to the other was emanating enough in every of their mutual gestures. And for them, it was all that mattered. 

“We might be here awhile” announced Morpheus to the librarian. “Would you mind…taking care of things while we work?”

With a polite smile Lucienne bowed to her lord, not without sharing a knowing amused look with her new queen. 

“With pleasure, sir”

She bowed to the both of them again before taking her leave, delighted with her newfound duties. 

Morpheus smiled to his wife, before returning his attention to the unfinished creations again. 

“Shall we continue, my love?”

With a nod of her head, she reached into her pocket to cradle a little skull with eye sockets filled with teeth in her left hand. It was time. 

“We shall. I’m ready”

Clutching his hand with her, she offered him a soft smile. A new era indeed.

[Epilogue] 

A/N: Almost the end ahhhh

Each liking, comments and rebloging are making my day, I love y’all so much blblbllblbHope you’re all doing okay, take care of you ♥

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[freemase]

 "They're your daughters, Isaac,” Mason says with a sigh. “So forgive me if I overstep-"

"Oh, please,” the King scoffs. A telling smile plays across his lips. “You've been by my side since they were infants. They adore you and you them. They're as much yours as mine."

Mason takes a moment to digest that. It’s true when he looks back on the twin princess’s childhood, he is a strong feature in them. It’s their father he loves the most. His King and Sovereign, but most of all – a good man who has held Mason’s heart in his hand since the moment Mason stepped through the castle’s gilded gates and he had laid eyes on the young King.

It hadn’t stopped him from planting the royal’s face into the dirt a few days later, slicked with sweat and bare chested. The Order of the Sunless Path had been the only thing Mason had known – trained since he was a child to fight and dance along a blade, heralding death wherever he went. His order was revered and mysterious and Mason had long resigned himself to giving his life to it, until the King had asked for it instead.

Mason goes to where Isaac is sitting tiredly by the stone window, the view beyond illuminated in silver shadows by the twin moons wanning overhead. He places his hands on the King’s shoulders and presses his chest to the other man’s back. He can feel the tension in his shoulders that never really leaves – the weight of a kingdom bearing down on him. They had lived in peace for almost ten years now, but Mason knew there was every chance a war was coming.

And if he knew, so did the King.

He presses a kiss to the side of the King’s neck before he speaks, smiling against the tiny shiver his touch creates. “It means a lot to hear you say that.” He presses another kiss, regretful. He’s bit his tongue until now but he can’t stay silent anymore. On most things, he saw eye to eye with his king, the keeper of his heart, but in this, he feared they may clash. “But it only makes what I have to say all the more important."

Isaac doesn't answer, just continues staring out over the bustling city and the parapets beyond. The city within the castle walls teems with life even at this late hour. Mason tries not to wonder if the princess is out there, skulking through the shadows with her druid companions… or her warrior knight.

“Your daughters are princesses,” Mason begins, wrapping his arms around Isaac from behind. It’s cowardly to say this at his back but Mason hopes his embrace somehow softens the blow. “- the court already expects much of them. Of you. They're almost of age now. It's going to be expected that you move on that. And soon."

"I won't use my children as political pawns, Mason. Not like I was. I want them to have the freedom to choose."

"I know, Zac," Mason uses the private nickname he has for him that no-one else ever hears - he's not trying to talk to Isaac as his liege right now, just his lover. "But Lucia and Ser Ryan... Have you seen them together?"

He has, Mason knows he has. The fierce intensity the youngest princess has for the knight almost ten years her senior borders on obsessive. And Ser Ryan was doing little to dissuade her.

"Lucia has always been... different,” Isaac answers finally. “She has little love of court life, always preferring to be with her herbs.” Isaac’s voice grows slightly distant. “Sometimes I wonder if allowing her to spend so much time with the druids was too indulgent of me."

"It's not the druids that are her focus now. Ser Ryan is one of your best warriors but...” Mason tries to choose his words carefully. He doesn’t want to question his king, but as the king’s lover, he wonders if he is privy to things the King can’t – or won’t – see. “Is he really the best suitor for a princess? He has no lands, no title-"

Isaac barks a laugh and the force of it causes Mason to release him from his embrace in surprise. Isaac turns away from the window. "Oh, he has lands. He just refuses to acknowledge them. And every title I have offered, he's rejected. He has nothing to offer Lucia but himself. And she wants him anyway. He has no desire for anything else - not her title, her lands-"

It slowly dawns on Mason that Isaac is far more across this than he realised. Of course he is. There's little that goes on in this court and his kingdom that the king isn't aware of.

"A true love match," Mason murmurs and Isaac inclines his head. Mason thinks of the Queen, his thoughts churning. Clarity ensues. "Like you never had."

Isaac's expression softens at Mason’s understanding and Mason steps close to pull Isaac back into his arms. They share a kiss, part apology and part relief on Mason’s side and all muted passion on Isaac’s.

When they pull back, Mason touches his forehead against Isaac’s, smiling to himself. “I suppose we can at least be grateful that Izzy has had the forethought to fall in love with a man with a royal bloodline. The court will be satisfied with that."

[pred1059]

Runaway Wind Chapter Twenty Six

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Who am I?

“Who is she?” 

What am I here for?

“A new recruit?”

Where am I?

She tried to focus, open her eyes. Everything was so blurry and blue, but there were two shapes in sight. She heard a voice, barely enough to make it out. “She will not....Though darkness anchors...light holds too much...though given time.”

One shape moved closer, and she could see a face, silver-white hair and yellow eyes. “Well either way it looks like Vexen’s work was successful.” They groaned and rolled their eyes. “Don’t tell me I need to train her.”

The other shape moved forward, a yellowish green eye visible from under grey bangs. “That is not necessary Exon. You shall go to the basement and begin to secure our friend.” 

Exon moved away and something darker appeared further out of sight. “Zexion, do I need to carry—?” 

“Yes. Now go.” At the other figure’s prompting, Exon moved towards that darkness. A darkness that

...she was afraid of?

Her fear was cut short as there was a hiss and rush of water, and the blue around her began to descend.

No...it drained, and with that she could see far easier in her tube. The whole room was white. With the exception of grey and silver machines with lights. And Zexion in front of her in black. She asked him the same question that had haunted her until she was. 

“Who am I?” Looking down at herself, clothed in white and purple, bracelets on her wrists. Her hands in front of her flexed as she got used to them. “What am I here for?”

“Your name is Xion.” 

Xion nodded at Zexion’s words. Yes, that seemed right.

“You will meet a boy named Sora. He will call you Kairi. You understand this?”

Of course. It made sense to her. “Sora will call me Kairi.”

He held up a finger to her, emphasizing his commands as he continued, “You are to follow him. Let him keep you safe. Do not tell him your true name.”

Xion nodded. But then began to wonder, “What do I do?”

Zexion simply smiled, and began to help her off the tube. “You don’t need to think about it. We will deal with everything.”

But...

“Why?” Why wouldn’t she think about it? But even as Xion asked her question, Zexion began to lead her through hallways upon hallways. All of them the same marble white. Every attempt for her to ask for something more was ignored by Zexion. “Please...just tell me! What am I here for.” 

Zexion stopped finally as they came to a stairway down to an open set of double doors. “You’ll know soon enough.” Pushing them open, he shoved her down the steps towards the room. She spun around to see him thumbing through a book as the passageway sealed behind her. Frantically she ran to the doors, banging on them to try and get them to open again.

But then she heard a voice behind her and she stopped.

“Kairi?! KAIRI!!!”

Sora sighed as he closed the door behind him to the illusion of the 100 Acre Wood. He had dreaded having to walk through a forest where Pooh and his friends were afraid of him. But instead what he found was almost worse. Nobody was there. Absolutely no-one. Just empty houses and belongings. Was it getting worse? Was he truly losing all the friends he made the further he went?

“Sora…” Goofy fidgeted as they climbed up the stairs. “You sure you don’t wanna go back?”

It was tempting, and some part of him was screaming at him that he should have left this castle alone to begin with. But he sadly shook his head. “No, if Riku’s here, he might have some idea of where King Mickey is.”

“If that’s even Riku!” Donald snapped as he jogged ahead and stood in front of them to block the way. “This whole castle makes illusions of places we’ve been, remember? That might not be Riku at all!”

Sora grimaced before answering back, “But if it is and I just left him…” At his answer Donald deflated and moved aside to follow.He could never forgive himself if that was true. As hollow as they were, Riku's accusations of being left behind stung. Even the idea that he’d leave his friends to suffer while he explored was something that turned his stomach to ice. Not to mention, without a ship they had no other leads to finding their friends. All they could do was climb Castle Oblivion, floor after floor. Door after door.

But as the three of them arrived at another sanctuary, they stopped as they saw who was banging her fists on the door ahead of them.  “Kairi?!” Sora gasped as she saw her, and then ran to her in a panic. “KAIRI!”

“How’d you get all the way over here!”

“Shouldn’t you be home?”

But even as she turned to look at him with Donald and Goofy’s cries, Kairi still backed away from Sora towards the closed door with wide eyes. “You...Who…”

Her confusion brought him to halt as that dread stabbed itself into his heart. “It’s...it’s me. Sora.” He tried to reach out, hoping she would remember something. Anything. But as she looked him over without recognition, horror began to come over him. “You...don’t know me...do you?” 

Kairi was quiet but at his question, she slowly nodded. “I...I know you’ll protect me.”

It was small, but it was enough for Sora to hold on. Clutching the lucky charm in his pocket, he nodded. “Yeah. We’re going to be home together one day.” Sora did his best to smile. If nothing else, he could give her that. “Just like I promised.”

“Thank you.” While it wasn’t quite as wide as his, Kairi’s smile as she spoke helped to soothe his pained heart. If only by a little.

Goofy put a hand on his shoulder, “Sora, ya sure you’re gonna be alright?” 

Sora began to fish in his pockets for the world card. “I’ll be fine.”

“It’s just…” He looked over to Donald, who seemed to be bothered by something. But he just sighed and shook his head. “Nevermind.”

“I don’t know. This whole thing just doesn’t seem right.” Jiminy Cricket peeked out from Sora’s hood, concern clear on his face. “The four of us seem to be the only ones who aren’t being really affected by this magic. We still care about the friends we know and each other.”

 Sora shook his head as he found the world card in his pocket. “Either way, we don’t have a choice.” There was only one card left. One more memory on this journey. Hollow Bastion. He held it up high and the door began to open.

Sora could only hope that helping Kairi through this world would be enough.

DiZ watched the replica follow Sora into the illusion. The Darkness within the boy was teeming within him. He had hoped his companions would see it and say something. But now, still the boy continued on, blind to the Organization’s machinations.

Though to be fair, DiZ also failed to grasp the sheer scope of the plan his apprentice had in mind.

The first indication something was wrong was when the nobody of Ienzo had begun to control their operations in the castle. The boy was more content to work as a more secondary resource when he was alive, and although his nobody had become more assertive he was not the type to challenge authority on his own. Much less seize it. Yet as the plan to use illusions to manipulate Sora proceeded, Zexion commanded the group as if it was nothing. 

But it was the replica of Riku that made him realize worse things were afoot. The confrontation with Sora had sent it spiraling into a mental collapse, hardly able to be controlled with the minimal instruction the Organization gave it. When Zexion took aside to take care of it, DiZ assumed he would dispose of the replica now that it’s purpose had been served. But instead the replica was given a heart dripping with darkness, and immediately it was calmed. 

From that day on, the newly dubbed Exon worked with Zexion in concert. He rarely left Zexion’s side without his permission. But that which truly unnerved him was how they almost seemed to know each other now. As if they had truly been connected by something else. Or if they simply had everything in common. But DiZ would have to be blind not to notice how their eyes changed color. While Zexion’s had been gradually shifting, the change was almost immediate for Exon.

And just how much their language was so similar to that of an old apprentice.

Which raised a possibility that chilled DiZ to the bone. One he needed to confirm observing Exon’s errand. He turned his gaze to Riku traversing the castle and coming to the room leading to the next floor. The boy stopped as he heard a voice call out to him, “So you’re the one that this body was based on.” 

Riku gasped as the replica appeared to him for the first time. The vision of himself in the dark suit caused Riku to take a step back as Exon approached him. “Who are you? Why do you look like me?”

“Looks are all we have in common.” The replica smirked as yellow eyes met light blue. “I am Exon, and unlike you I don’t fear the dark. The darkness gives me purpose. It gives me clarity.”

DiZ felt his gut sink at that word. Clarity. At the height of Xehanort’s experiments before he had ordered him to stop, he claimed the darkness provided clarity to the heart’s inner workings.

Riku on his part was enraged at the comparison. “Purpose?! You keep following the darkness and it will destroy you!”

Exon simply shook his head and crossed his arms. “Only when it is resisted. So long as the light within you struggles against the dark, it will cause you pain.” He then stretched out and summoned a mote of shadow in an outstretched palm. “But when one truly understands that power, they are invincible.” Riku narrowed his eyes at the display and readied himself to fight, at this Exon sighed and snuffed out the darkness by closing his fist. “But if the darkness is such a burden to you. It might as well be taken from you.”

Riku flinched at the threat. He took a step forward demanding answers, “What do you mean?” However, Exon had already begun to summon a dark portal away. “Hey! Wait!”

“Make it through this floor, and you’ll get one last chance to keep your power.” With that threat, the replica vanished into darkness. To his credit, Riku was quick to recover from the intimidation, pulling out yet another world card.

DiZ however, had a mind mired in thoughts over the exchange. If they planned to take Riku’s darkness, then clearly the empty replica would need to serve as a vessel. But to what end? To simply transfer him over to Sora as he fell to darkness? Would the dark seeker even cooperate with these nobodies? Even the original body he had spawned from? And why would they need him now, if they could already produce functional duplicates of Xehanort in other empty things?

He shook his head. That mattered little right now, what was clear was that both Riku and Sora were being led into traps. And if he was to waylay either of those plans, he needed to act now. Focusing on his power, DiZ called his old friend to the castle. The dark portal would bring Mickey close to Riku. Though he could not say if it would be enough to stop what was coming in its entirety, it should give Riku the chance to survive.

More importantly, it would give DiZ the opportunity to contact the one who could save Sora.

Kairi finished packing up her items. She could only hope she was closer to either Sora or Riku. Or just someone she could talk to that wasn’t trying to fight her. Some sign of life in the empty memories of worlds that wasn’t trying to kill her. And yet even as she fought, no matter how much she tried to ignore it, those words could never stop haunting her.

Her father.

Clenching her eyes shut, she got to her feet. Right now, she couldn’t dive into that mystery even if she wanted to. Not when she was just trying to find Sora or Riku. All she could hope for now was that she wouldn’t run into any more distractions. “I can’t waste any more time.”

“I could hardly agree more.” The older voice of a man spoke from a dark corridor that had opened by the exit door. Kairi summoned her keyblade to her hands and readied herself. Out from the shadows walked a figure in red and black robes. With red bandages covering every inch of his face, save for the mouth and an orange eye.

Kairi held the keyblade tighter in her grip as he looked at her. “Are you another member of the organization?” 

He shook his head, hands folded behind his back. “No. I am not one of their numbers. I am DiZ, the Darkness in Zero, and I am here to assist you.”

Kairi raised an eyebrow, keyblade still in her hand. “I’ve had some very bad experiences with darkness.”

For a moment, the man was quiet before looking to the side. “I have no doubt. I do not use the darkness by choice, but it nevertheless defines me.” Turning back to Kairi, DiZ looked back at her and spoke, “I realize that there is little besides what I have already done for you that could earn your trust.”

“What you’ve already done?” Kairi didn’t quite understand what he was talking about at first. Brow furrowed as she tried to recall her journey through the castle. The only person she had even talked to besides the members of the Organization was...“Wait. Back when I first got here. There was a voice.” She looked down at the weapon in her hands as it came together. “Your voice. You gave me this keyblade!”

DiZ shook his head with a closed eye. “It was always yours. If things were different, then I would be content with letting you go on your way to save your friends.” He turned to the door ahead and raised a hand, darkness gathering in his fist. “But with what I know, I cannot hide idly any longer, lest we lose everything.”

Kairi stepped forward, keyblade still at her side. “Lose everything? What do you mean? What are you doing with the door?”

DiZ continued on, the door frame glowing in shadow as well. “Recent events have forced my hand with regards to the Organization’s plans for Sora. They have been preying on his fears. Cultivating the darkness within him with care. And I fear that plan is about to come to fruition.” 

Kairi’s eyes widened as the horrifying possibility became clear. “They want to find a way to control him. Like with Riku and Ansem.” Just thinking about losing him to something like that was horrific. Sora was always someone who never hesitated to help, always willing to lend a hand when he could. Always knew the best way to help people smile. Not only that, he fought against the heartless and saved everyone. 

He saved her. 

For someone like him to just be smothered in darkness and turned into a cruel monster like Ansem? There was no way she’d let that happen. Not to Sora. He was…

Some part of her hesitated to think about him just as a best friend. Because after everything, her feelings towards Sora had become something more.

“Sora is one floor ahead.” DiZ's voice cut through her concerns. “Fortunately, this one is empty, and the rest of the Organization is occupied. I can use my power to keep the path clear for you to catch up.”

“Thank you!” Kairi barely looked back at DiZ as she wrenched the doors open. She ran through the 100 Acre Wood faster than she’d even run in her life. All the fears clawing away at her were forgotten with adrenaline. No matter what trouble Sora was in, or how far Riku had fallen, she’d find a way to bring them back to Destiny Islands again.

It just wouldn’t be home without them.

“Woah! Watch it, kid!”

“Sorry!” Ven shouted back to an upset Cid. But right now, he didn’t have time to wait. Not while the dream was still fresh enough in his mind. The first thing he did as he woke up was throw on some clothes and run to find the other person in his dream. He’d heard old stories about how hearts were connected, even in sleep. Even though he’d never seen it for himself, and nobody back in the land of departure talked about it.

Okay, it was a long shot, but the only one he had. He just had to figure out where…

“Hey! Slow down!”

There! At the sound of Yuffie’s voice he took a left instead of a right down the hall. And sure enough, he saw an out of breath Naminé coming to a halt with Yuffie beside her. Seeing her in a similar state gave him hope, so Ventus asked in between gasps for air, “Naminé...last night...did you have a dream of—?”

“…a woman? ...with blue hair...in a dark world?”

His eyes went wide at Naminé’s answer. “Aqua...She’s alive.” He grinned at finally having some semblance of a clue to where she was. “I don’t know where, but somehow she’s alive!”

Only for Yuffie to step in between the two of them, her arms on both of their shoulders. “Hey, I get that you’re glad on finding something, but I think you might be jumping ahead several steps here. Especially when you’re just running wild off of a few dreams.” 

“Actually, it’s not as bad of an idea as you think.” The three of them turned to Merlin who had happened on the trio. With a smile he adjusted his glasses. “In fact, The Castle of Dreams is home to someone who specializes in such dreams.”

Ventus turned to Yuffie with a triumphant grin, while Naminé seemed almost smug in her satisfaction. Yuffie just rolled her eyes with a smile and let go of Ventus and Naminé.“Well, okay. But could we start with the thing that happened last night with your memories?” 

Only for the growl of Ventus’ stomach to interrupt that thought.

“After breakfast?”

[cryingtulips]

This Place is Not a Home

The pain meant he was repenting, and he needed to repent. If Lady Clara wouldn’t listen to his prayers for forgiveness, he would earn it another way.

CW: Religious themes, religious trauma

crossposted to ao3 || moodboard || Ch 4 || Ch 5 || Ch 6

~+~

Ch 5: I Only Want to Help

The next few weeks at Puffy’s were strange, but pleasant.

Puffy didn’t give him a chance to delve into his thoughts, something Tommy was thankful for. At first, Puffy assigned Tommy simple housework, too cautious to push him beyond his limits with his wings still healing. She asked him to broom, to dust, to do the laundry, to do the dishes, meanwhile, she was doing all the heavy lifting that Tommy should have been doing.

He was there to help, after all, and how could he help if he was constantly pushed away? It frustrated Tommy, to be babied and treated like glass. He wasn’t delicate, he wouldn’t break under the strain of a little weight.

Puffy would always argue otherwise, that she wasn’t babying him, but taking into consideration his back and wing muscles. “Have you even seen the state of your wings?” she would stress. Unknown to her, he hadn’t. Ever since his fall, he never properly looked at them.

He knew the state of his feathers when he first arrived. Half were gone, others frayed and damaged. What once was pure white and gold–bright enough to blind a human, was now a gentle gray, proof of his corruption. Whenever he moved, pain would spread throughout his back to the end tips of his feathers, some days it was manageable like a constant itch. Then there were the days where it felt like all the air in his lungs was punched out as his nerves burned.

He knew they were bad, but he never bothered to look at how drastic the state was.

He couldn’t.

He could never bring himself to.

He found himself scared, scared at what he would see, scared at what would come after. Not that his feelings mattered, because at the end of the day, his wings were meant to be a punishment. Whatever state they were in, it didn’t matter as long as it hurt, because if it hurt, that meant he was doing what Lady Clara asked of him.

The pain meant he was repenting, and he needed to repent. If Clara wouldn’t listen to his prayers for forgiveness, he would earn it another way.

But that was hard to do when Puffy would never listen to him.

At first, the arguments started small. Just little comments here and there, Tommy throwing an attitude whenever he saw Puffy, he even took to the silent treatment in a desperate hope that maybe she would finally see him, and listen to what he needs.

It never worked, and she would just send him off on another meager task. A month passed with no improvement, and soon, Tommy made the impulsive decision to act on his own.

It was after breakfast, and Puffy went out to feed the animals as Tommy was tasked to clean the living room. His back was itching, but it was nothing new, so Tommy ignored it.

Instead of doing as asked, Tommy stayed out on the porch, watching Puffy in the distance.

She was feeding the chickens first, seeing they were the easiest to handle as she spread the feeding over the grass. The hens were distracted, and Tommy watched as she gathered her basket as she headed into the coop, in the hope of more fresh eggs to sell that upcoming Sunday.

It was the monthly farmers market, one that Puffy had been preparing all week for; collecting homegrown fruits and vegetables and eggs, even preparing wool to sell. Puffy’s farm was small but well-known in the area, and this market provides Puffy some easy extra money.

Tommy knew how important it was to her, and had only wanted to help.

That’s all he ever wanted to do, was be of service like he was asked to do, both by his designation as an angel and by his deal with Puffy.

He ran to the shed that faced away from the coop, eyes flickering with no focus as the itch spread to something more painful, quickly overwhelmed on trying to decide what to grab in his haste to help.

He didn't know what to feed the cows and sheep, didn’t know what the different mixes were meant to be, or their measurements. Eyeing the shovel and wheelbarrow on the side of the wall, Tommy grinned at his solution. He may not know what the animals ate, but he knew for a fact the stalls had to be clean.

He grabbed the shovel, and threw it in the wheelbarrow without care, breath stuttering in anticipation. He grabbed the wheelbarrow, already planning the route to the barn that would go unnoticed. But the moment he tried to lift the cart, his wings and back were engulfed in pain, vision flashing as his body crumbled.

When he came to, it was to the muddled sight of Puffy’s face as the world blurred around him. There was tension in the lines of her mouth, and Tommy wanted to wipe the furrow away from her eyes. But everything was spinning and he felt nauseous, and the pain spiked when he attempted to move his wings.

He wanted to reassure her that he was fine, to put him down. But his limbs refused to move and his mouth struggled to cooperate and soon he found himself in darkness again, too weak to fight against fluttering eyelids.

When he finally opened his eyes again, certain he would be in Limbo, he found himself in Puffy’s living room. It gave him whiplash how much it resumed his first meeting with the human, all those days ago. He struggled to sit up, an ache to his limbs that felt alien and unfamiliar. He felt the blanket that was wrapped around him drop to his lap, and he turned his head to Puffy’s form.

She wasn’t looking at him but to the book in her lap. She wasn’t moving, and Tommy thought she perhaps fell asleep. He tried getting up, to do what he wasn’t sure, but he needed to get up. He didn’t want to be more of a burden, and needed to get up–to do something, anything. He tried getting up, only to freeze as his body strongly protested this idea, sharp breath hissing out from his lips. He tensed further at the sound of a book snapping close, slowly looking up into Puffy’s stare.

She looked mad, tense where she was sitting. Without meaning to, Tommy found himself flinching back, wings folding further up to hide him. Humans were fickle creatures, constantly changing and adapting their behaviors and attitudes. It used to fascinate him, their adaptability, but now only frightened him. Just because Puffy had never hurt him before didn't mean this would never change.

He was curled against the couch, fingers tightly holding the blanket. He watched as Puffy took a slow breath, eyes closing before opening up again to meet his own. She looked calmer, but Tommy didn’t fool himself into believing the anger wasn’t still there.

“Tommy,” she practically hissed despite her attempts to cool down earlier, “what did—what were you thinking?” She pushed the book away from her lap and leaned forward in an attempt to make eye contact with him. He refused to look her way. “Tommy, do you understand how much that scared me? I told you—I told you to rest, and you!”—Tommy wilted at her anger. He didn’t understand what he did wrong. He was just trying to be useful—” Why do you want to hurt yourself so much?”

Tommy didn’t understand what she meant by that. Tommy, Tommy didn’t want this. To be banished from the only home he knew, to have mangled wings that weren’t healing, to be such a fuck up that even Lady Clara is abandoning him. Tommy doesn’t want to be in constant pain or to be so lonely that silence feels like nails against his skin. He didn’t…he just wanted to prove himself worthy of saving.

Tommy picked at the skin around his nails, the sight of liquid gold filling him with relief at that divine proof that he hasn’t screwed up yet, that something within him still proves to pureness despite his selfish wants. The gold was proof he can still rectify his mistakes, to Lady Clara, to Puffy.

He can still fix things.

“I just,” he mumbled as Puffy’s rant ended, eyes still only on his hands, at the blood that stains them. “I only wanted to help you.” He rushed to continue as Puffy opened her mouth again, “The deal was that I helped you, and these tasks you keep–keep giving me, they aren’t allowing me to fulfill my part of the deal. How can I help if you don’t let me?” he pleaded at the end.

Tommy heard Puffy shift, but didn't look up to see what she was doing. “Tommy,” she sounded a lot closer, and he saw her hands reach out to his, curling both his hands into hers. He ignored how heartbroken she sounded. “Tommy, can you look at me?” He didn’t respond, couldn’t bear to.

He felt her hand nudge his chin, and his eyes startled open at the gentle touch. He didn’t know when he closed them. “Tommy, you don’t need to be useful or fix things for you to stay here. My top priority is your wings. They were healing so well!” But you ruined it was left unsaid, but Tommy heard it either way. Puffy didn't need to say it, he could see it in her eyes. He ruined everything.

“But, but the deal was I can stay as long as I help out on the farm! I haven’t even, I haven’t even done anything. I just, all I do is broom the floor or clean dishes. How is that beneficial for you?”

Puffy only sighed in response. “That is helpful,” her voice was firm, and Tommy knew any arguments couldn’t persuade her. “Keeping up with the farm, it’s a lot. When you weren’t here, I found some days when I was too exhausted to broom or dust the furniture. There was always a thin balance between making sure my animals were healthy and happy, and my own well-being. With you here,” she nudges him with her elbow, eyes indescribable, and if Tommy dared to hope, he would call them fond, “things are easier to manage.”

Tommy frowned at the explanation. He wasn’t content with the explanation, but if Puffy said it was acceptable, then. Then maybe Tommy shouldn't push it. “Ok,” he said, “ ok, but I’m still not happy about it.”

“Ok,” Puffy had the nerve to laugh. “How about a compromise?”

Tommy hummed in response, happy for the chance to still prove his worth.

“I will allow you to do more tasks with the animals, but only under my instructions and supervision. Your wings are still healing, and we can’t have you fucking up anything else because you’re trying to lift something heavy,” Tommy ignored the pointed look she sent him, just happy he would be able to do more.

“That works with me.”

[defaulttwig]

Beast

Edward Cullen x fem!reader (18+)

Summary: Edward is just a beast when it comes to sex lol

WC: 1.6k

Warnings: jumps right into sex lol, no build up

A/N: Batman got me back on the Rob train, which led me back to Edward. I don’t write him often so he’s probably ooc here but it doesn’t matter, this is smut. (p.s. back muscles hhhhhgghg)

His name stopped on the tip of your tongue. You called for him, instead, with little gasps and moans. He answered with a slow blink, his head dipping to capture your mouth with his.

 Two fingers rubbed your clit in circles at a less-than-forgiving pace. He’d started slow, but the lust in the air fogged his brain. It was all he could do to keep you trembling and thrusting your hips to deepen the pressure.

 Your lips parted in another moan, swallowed down by him as his tongue lapped at the roof of your mouth. You shivered and gripped his shirt tightly, nails raking through the material to scratch at his back.

 Edward broke the kiss, his breath fanning across your face. You locked eyes with him, your brows knitted and your mind all but begged him to kiss you again. And what could he do against your sweet, persuading look, than to give in without a fight.

 He trained his thumb on your clit, fingers soaked enough to slip into you. Your back arched as he curled his fingers, the pads of his fingers rubbing amazingly against your walls. You bucked your hips to meet the thrusts, moaning into his mouth.

 The speed he flexed his fingers into you left your mouth open completely, blissed out of your mind. He near vibrated thanks to the vampiric agility. It didn’t take too long for your walls to squeeze around his fingers after he added a third, and your lower half spasmed around him.

 His whole hand had soaked by the time you gently pushed him and asked for more. More of Edward, even after he swore to you to contain himself. He feared what he’d do to you on a normal day. Again, though, your sweet, soft, moans that begged for him, pulled at his heart. And the way you moaned his name, spread your legs a little wider, and tried to pull him closer? It pushed him over the edge.

 He made quick work of unbuckling his pants and pulling them down. Caution went out the window the moment you two decided chancing this was a good idea. He held his dick in his slicked hand, coating it in your juices as he pumped himself a few times.

 You raised your head off the pillows to look at it. You hadn’t given it too much attention, flopping back onto the pillow and wriggling your hips invitingly. Gold eyes locked onto yours and he inched himself toward your hole.

 The tip just kissed your entrance before he stilled. Edward’s brows drew together in worry. You cupped the back of his head, threading your fingers in his hair.

 “I trust you,” you muttered sweetly.

 It was enough to crumble his resolve. What little part of him thought this idea was bad, Edward pushed it aside to grab the back of your thigh and inch it further away. He nestled himself close and dropped his eyes to focus between you.

 He pushed into you slowly, allowing you time to adjust to his size while he fought to maintain his composure. All the way to the hilt, he swallowed hard. It was too good, too tight, and so much. Your walls flexed around him and he lurched over, bracing one hand by your head as he squeezed your thigh.

 “You’ll let me know if it’s too much.” He posed it as less of a question and more of a demand.

 You nodded, nonetheless, biting your lip. What little pain had drummed up from him pushing into you had eased away. Edward read your mind, focusing on the pain aspect of your thoughts. He let go of your thigh to toy with your clit once more, his thumb swiping up and down the sensitive bud.

 Your thighs threatened to close, stopped only from him sitting between them. Edward cracked a smile at the curses that flooded through your mind. You were at your wit's end and just wanted him to move. It melted the tension from his shoulders. He had still hesitated in fear of hurting you until now.

 His movements started slow, hips pulling away from yours. You felt every inch of him shift, stuck in a tremble as he continued to flick your clit. Until just the tip remained, he snapped his hips into you.

 You both sucked in harsh breaths. You, out of pleasure. Edward, out of shock and a dash of guilt. He meant to be slow, but couldn’t help himself. His stomach twisted in knots until your mind’s filthy thoughts stole his attention. Your hands rested on his shoulders and pulled him slightly. He obliged and brought his mouth to yours.

 You wrapped your legs around his hips and all but kicked your heel against his thigh like a horse.

 Edward couldn’t deny it any longer. From how you wrapped around him to the taste of your mouth, he fully relinquished himself to his urges.

 The inhuman pace he set nearly rammed you into the headboard if your legs weren’t wrapped around him. You pulled on his shirt, a moan lodged in your throat, caught in painful pleasure. Your mouth hung open, tossed your head back, and you arched yourself into him.

 Edward dropped his head to capture your lips with his again, relishing in the broken thoughts in your mind. He rendered you blank, thinking only of him, his cock, Edward, Edward…It stroked him the right way.

 He broke the kiss and your lips chased after his. As much as he wanted to give you what you wanted, he also wanted to watch your cute expressions. You dropped your head to the pillows and cried for him. He chuckled until in your fit you exposed your neck. You continued to tug him toward you, unaware of the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly.

 He bucked into you faster to distract himself. Impossibly, you’d think, but Edward managed to. He’d have broken a sweat from how he concentrated solely where you joined together and not at your pretty neck, shiny with your sweat. Your head lulled further to the side and Edward took it upon himself to cup your head and set you right up.

 It didn’t help. You leaned into his touch, exposing the side of your neck again as you struggled to match his pace. Edward unconsciously leaned toward it. His lips parted, fangs dragging along his bottom lip. Your eyes locked onto the canines, but you didn’t care. As long as he never stopped.

 More. More. More.

 Your thoughts encouraged him. Messed with his own thinking. His gaze trained on your neck. The wild beating of your heart and choked moans called for him. You arched your back, exposing your breasts to him.

 He dipped his head to the exposed skin, hoping for a brief distraction. His tongue flattened and swiped along one perky bud. He met your gaze and you shivered. It did nothing to distract him. His teeth grazed against your breast, aching to sink into something.

 “Edward,” you moaned. 

 You swallowed dryly and the simple shift of your neck had him latch his mouth over your pulse point. His mind fell away, teeth closer and closer to piercing your skin.

 Your voice raised in pitch. “I’m close.”

 He was too. Closer to breaking skin, to tasting you. He didn’t know if he could stop once it happened.

 “Edward.” You cried.

 His attention broke away to the way your cunt spasmed around him. He groaned, coming to his senses, and pulled away from your neck to connect his mouth to yours. All your heavy panting and sweet moans were swallowed eagerly.

 The fangs sank into your bottom lip.

 Blood filled both your mouths, licked and sucked up by Edward. He grabbed your face, lost in the taste of you. Your walls spasmed around him. His shirt began to tear at the seams from how long you’d tugged at it.

 His pace became animalistic. You moaned deeply into his mouth and pulled him closer.

 All too soon, the bed broke under you. It gave you both a jump and you broke the kiss, a line of red saliva between you two. You shook your head, dizzy and dazed, and pulled him back in.

 Edward sucked on your lip, his thrusts bruising your pelvis. It hurt so good.

 A pressure stirred in Edward. It climbed higher and higher, and his thrusts grew more erratic. You completely tore his shirt as his orgasm hit. He broke your kiss to lay his forehead against yours, lost in the hot liquid pushing out of him, filling you completely.

 You moaned in his face, nails scratching at his bare skin and earning a grunt from him. The warmth pooling in your cunt from him sent heat all over you. Your walls fluttered around him and another orgasm took over you.

 Once the ride of the high was over, Edward stilled on top of you. He blinked owlishly before he saw blood dribbling out the corner of your mouth. In an instant, he made to pull away, but your legs’ grip served to keep him in place.

 “You’re bleeding,” he said.

 You shook your head and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “Relax. I’m fine.”

 Whether you were or not, he wouldn’t know. Your mind had gone completely blank, blissed out from the sex. You tugged on him again and he allowed himself to fall into you, his head nestled between your breasts.

 You lazily played with his hair, licking the pinpricks on your lip. He focused on the rise and fall of your chest.

 Briefly, you both realized the bed frame needed to be replaced.

 Later.